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From the 1897 “Library Edition”, painted by Albert Letchford.
Burton’s The Book of The Thousand Nights and a Night was originally privately published by The Kama Shastra Society, in ten volumes, in 1885. (A further six volumes were subsequently published as a Supplement to the Nights.)
This web edition has used the online plain-text transcription from Project Gutenberg <http://gutenberg.org> — in which most volumes are noted as "Privately Published by the Burton Society". Edition details are otherwise sketchy. Unfortunately, the Project Gutenberg transcription contains many errors (either from typing or OCR conversion). Many of these errors have been corrected here, but some undoubtedly remain. The Editor will be pleased to receive any notifications of errors found.
In creating this web edition, some organisational changes have been made from the original. Most obviously, the division into ten volumes has gone, and this edition is published as a single piece. The original division into volumes was deemed of no relevance to the text, especially in as much as tales were split between volumes. The dedications in each of the original volumes have been retained, and collected together at the beginning of the edition.
The second obvious change is to footnotes, which occur at the foot of each page in the original. The transcribers of the Project Gutenberg version had collected all footnotes together at the end of each volume. In this web edition, I have relocated footnotes to the end of each section of text, placing them as near as practical to the reference point without overly interrupting the flow.
Thirdly, I have grouped the text into sections, in two ways: first by starting a new section at the start of each tale; second by starting a new section at the start of each new night. The whole collection of tales is then arbitrarily split into parts, so that each part is no more than 100,000 bytes long — this purely for the convenience of readers, who may find larger pieces to be too big a bite at one time.
In all other respects, the arrangement of the original is unaffected.
A facsimile edition is available from the Internet Archive:
The book of the thousand nights and a night; a plain and literal translation of the Arabian nights' entertainments, with introd., explanatory notes on the manners and customs of Moslem men and a terminal essay upon the history of the nights / Reprinted from the original ed. and edited by Leonard G. Smithers 1897 v.1; v.2; v.3; v.4; v.5; v.6; v.7; v.8; v.9; v.10; v.11; v.12
S.G.A. Thomas,
March 2006.
Inscribed to the Memory
of
My Lamented Friend
John Frederick Steinhaeuser,
(Civil Surgeon, Aden)
who
A Quarter of a Century Ago
Assisted Me in this Translation.
To John Payne, Esq.
My Dear Sir,
Allow me thus publicly to express my admiration of your magnum opus, “The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night;” and to offer you my cordial thanks for honouring me with the dedication of that scholar-like and admirable version.
Ever yours sincerely,
Richard F. Burton.
Queen’s College, Oxford,
August 1, 1885.
Inscribed to the Memory
of
A Friend
Who
During A Friendship of Twenty–Six Years
Ever Showed Me The Most
Unwearied Kindness,
Richard Monckton Milnes
Baron Houghton.
To Foster Fitzgerald Arbuthnot.
My Dear Arbuthnot,
I have no fear that a friend, whose friendship has lasted nearly a third of a century, will misunderstand my reasons for inscribing his name upon these pages. You have lived long enough in the East and, as your writings show, observantly enough, to detect the pearl which lurks in the kitchen-midden, and to note that its lustre is not dimmed nor its value diminished by its unclean surroundings.
Ever yours sincerely,
Richard F. Burton.
Athenæum Club, October 1, 1885
To Doctor George Bird.
My Dear Bird,
This is not a strictly medical work, although in places treating of subjects which may modestly be called hygienic. I inscribe it to you because your knowledge of Egypt will enable you to appreciate its finer touches; and for another and a yet more cogent reason, namely, that you are one of my best and oldest friends.
Ever yours sincerely,
Richard F. Burton
Athenæum Club, October 20, 1885.
I Inscribe This Volume
To My Old And Valued Correspondent,
I Whose Debt I Am Deep,
Professor Aloys Sprenger
(of Heidelberg),
Arabist, Philosopher and Friend.
Richard F. Burton.
I Inscribe these pages
to
An Old And Valued Friend,
John W. Larking
(Whilome of Alexandria).
In Whose Hospitable Home (“The Sycamores”) I Made My Final
Preparations For A Pilgrimage To Meccah
and El–Medinah.
R. F. Burton
A Message to
Frederick Hankey,
formerly of No. 2, Rue Laffitte, Paris.
My Dear Fred,
If there be such a thing as “continuation,” you will see these lines in the far Spirit-land and you will find that your old friend has not forgotten you and Annie.
Richard F. Burton.
To Alexander Baird of Urie.
My Dear Baird,
I avail my self of a privilege of authorship, not yet utterly obsolete, to place your name at the head of this volume. Your long residence in Egypt and your extensive acquaintance with its “politic,” private and public, make you a thouroughly competent judge of the merits and demerits of this volume; and encourage me to hope that in reading it you will take something of the pleasure I have had in writing it.
Ever yours sincerely,
Richard F. Burton.
Tangier, December 31, 1885.
To
His Excellency Yacoub Artin Pasha,
Minister of Instruction, Etc. Etc. Etc. Cairo.
My Dear Pasha,
During the last dozen years, since we first met at Cairo, you have done much for Egyptian folk-lore and you can do much more. This volume is inscribed to you with a double purpose; first it is intended as a public expression of gratitude for your friendly assistance; and, secondly, as a memento that the samples which you have given us imply a promise of further gift. With this lively sense of favours to come I subscribe myself
Ever yours friend and fellow worker,
Richard F. Burton
London, July 12, 1886.
“To the pure all things are pure” (Puris omnia pura)
— Arab Proverb.
“Niuna corrotta mente intese mai sanamente parole.”
— “Decameron” — conclusion.
“Erubuit, posuitque meum Lucretia librum Sed coram Bruto. Brute! reced, leget.
— Martial.
“Miculx est de ris que de larmes escripre, Pour ce que rire est le propre des hommes.”
— Rabelais.
“The pleasure we derive from perusing the Thousand and One Stories makes us regret that we possess only a comparatively small part of these truly enchanting fictions.”
— Crichton’s “History of Arabia.”
This work, labourious as it may appear, has been to me a labour of love, an unfailing source of solace and satisfaction. During my long years of official banishment to the luxuriant and deadly deserts of Western Africa, and to the dull and dreary half clearings of South America, it proved itself a charm, a talisman against ennui and despondency. Impossible even to open the pages without a vision starting into view; with out drawing a picture from the pinacothek of the brain; without reviving a host of memories and reminiscences which are not the common property of travellers, however widely they may have travelled. From my dull and commonplace and “respectable” surroundings, the Jinn bore me at once to the land of my pre-direction, Arabia, a region so familiar to my mind that even at first sight, it seemed a reminiscence of some by gone metem-psychic life in the distant Past. Again I stood under the diaphanous skies, in air glorious as aether, whose every breath raises men’s spirits like sparkling wine. Once more I saw the evening star hanging like a solitaire from the pure front of the western firmament; and the after glow transfiguring and transforming, as by magic, the homely and rugged features of the scene into a fairy land lit with a light which never shines on other soils or seas. Then would appear the woollen tents, low and black, of the true Badawin, mere dots in the boundless waste of lion tawny clays and gazelle brown gravels, and the camp fire dotting like a glow worm the village centre. Presently, sweetened by distance, would be heard the wild weird song of lads and lasses, driving or rather pelting, through the gloaming their sheep and goats; and the measured chant of the spearsmen gravely stalking behind their charge, the camels; mingled with bleating of the flocks and the bellowing of the humpy herds; while the reremouse flitted overhead with his tiny shriek, and the rave of the jackal resounded through deepening glooms, and — most musical of music — the palm trees answered the whispers of the night breeze with the softest tones of falling water.
And then a shift of scene. The Shaykhs and “white beards” of the tribe gravely take their places, sitting with outspread skirts like hillocks on the plain, as the Arabs say, around the camp fire, whilst I reward their hospitality and secure its continuance by reading or reciting a few pages of their favourite tales. The women and children stand motionless as silhouettes outside the ring; and all are breathless with attention; they seem to drink in the words with eyes and mouths as well as with ears. The most fantastic flights of fancy, the wildest improbabilities, the most impossible of impossibilities, appear to them utterly natural, mere matters of every day occurrence. They enter thoroughly into each phase of feeling touched upon by the author: they take a personal pride in the chivalrous nature and knightly prowess of Taj al-Mulúk; they are touched with tenderness by the self sacrificing love of Azízah; their mouths water as they hear of heaps of untold gold given away in largesse like clay; they chuckle with delight every time a Kázi or a Fakír — a judge or a reverend — is scurvily entreated by some Pantagruelist of the Wilderness; and, despite their normal solemnity and impassibility, all roar with laughter, sometimes rolling upon the ground till the reader’s gravity is sorely tried, at the tales of the garrulous Barber and of Ali and the Kurdish Sharper. To this magnetising mood the sole exception is when a Badawi of superior accomplishments, who sometimes says his prayers, ejaculates a startling “Astagh-faru’llah”— I pray Allah’s pardon! — for listening, not to Carlyle’s “downright lies,” but to light mention of the sex whose name is never heard amongst the nobility of the Desert.
Nor was it only in Arabia that the immortal Nights did me such notable service: I found the wildlings of Somali land equally amenable to its discipline; no one was deaf to the charm and the two women cooks of my caravan, on its way to Harar, were in continently dubbed by my men “Shahrazad” and “Dinazad.”
It may be permitted me also to note that this translation is a natural outcome of my Pilgrimage to Al–Medinah and Meccah. Arriving at Aden in the (so called) winter of 1852, I put up with my old and dear friend, Steinhaeuser, to whose memory this volume is inscribed; and, when talking over Arabia and the Arabs, we at once came to the same conclusion that, while the name of this wondrous treasury of Moslem folk lore is familiar to almost every English child, no general reader is aware of the valuables it contains, nor indeed will the door open to any but Arabists. Before parting we agreed to “collaborate” and produce a full, complete, unvarnished, uncastrated copy of the great original, my friend taking the prose and I the metrical part; and we corresponded upon the subject for years. But whilst I was in the Brazil, Steinhaeuser died suddenly of apoplexy at Berne in Switzerland and, after the fashion of Anglo India, his valuable Mss. left at Aden were dispersed, and very little of his labours came into my hands.
Thus I was left alone to my work, which progressed fitfully amid a host of obstructions. At length, in the spring of 1879, the tedious process of copying began and the book commenced to take finished form. But, during the winter of 1881–82, I saw in the literary journals a notice of a new version by Mr. John Payne, well known to scholars for his prowess in English verse, especially for his translation of “The Poems of Master Francis Villon, of Paris.” Being then engaged on an expedition to the Gold Coast (for gold), which seemed likely to cover some months, I wrote to the “Athenaeum” (Nov. 13, 1881) and to Mr. Payne, who was wholly unconscious that we were engaged on the same work, and freely offered him precedence and possession of the field till no longer wanted. He accepted my offer as frankly, and his priority entailed another delay lasting till the spring of 1885. These details will partly account for the lateness of my appearing, but there is yet another cause. Professional ambition suggested that literary labours, unpopular with the vulgar and the half educated, are not likely to help a man up the ladder of promotion. But common sense presently suggested to me that, professionally speaking, I was not a success, and, at the same time, that I had no cause to be ashamed of my failure. In our day, when we live under a despotism of the lower “middle class” Philister who can pardon anything but superiority, the prizes of competitive services are monopolized by certain “pets” of the Médiocratie, and prime favourites of that jealous and potent majority — the Mediocnties who know “no nonsense about merit.” It is hard for an outsider to realise how perfect is the monopoly of common place, and to comprehend how fatal a stumbling stone that man sets in the way of his own advancement who dares to think for himself, or who knows more or who does more than the mob of gentlemen employee who know very little and who do even less.
Yet, however behindhand I may be, there is still ample room and verge for an English version of the “Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.”
Our century of translations, popular and vernacular, from (Professor Antoine) Galland’s delightful abbreviation and adaptation (A.D. 1704), in no wise represent the eastern original. The best and latest, the Rev. Mr. Foster’s, which is diffuse and verbose, and Mr. G. Moir Bussey’s, which is a re- correction, abound in gallicisms of style and idiom; and one and all degrade a chef d’oeuvre of the highest anthropological and ethnographical interest and importance to a mere fairy book, a nice present for little boys.
After nearly a century had elapsed, Dr. Jonathan Scott (LL.D. H.E.I.C.‘s S., Persian Secretary to the G. G. Bengal; Oriental Professor, etc., etc.), printed his “Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters, translated from the Arabic and Persian,” (Cadell and Davies, London, A.D. 1800); and followed in 1811 with an edition of “The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments” from the Ms. of Edward Wortley Montague (in 6 vols., small 8vo, London: Longmans, etc.). This work he (and he only) describes as “Carefully revised and occasionally corrected from the Arabic.” The reading public did not wholly reject it, sundry texts were founded upon the Scott version and it has been imperfectly reprinted (4 vole., 8vo, Nimmo and Bain, London, 1883). But most men, little recking what a small portion of the original they were reading, satisfied themselves with the Anglo French epitome and metaphrase. At length in 1838, Mr. Henry Torrens, B.A., Irishman, lawyer (“of the Inner Temple”) and Bengal Civilian, took a step in the right direction; and began to translate, “The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,” (1 vol., 8vo, Calcutta: W. Thacker and Co.) from the Arabic of the Ægyptian (!) Ms. edited by Mr. (afterwards Sir)William H. Macnaghten. The attempt, or rather the intention, was highly creditable; the copy was carefully moulded upon the model and offered the best example of the verbatim et literatim style. But the plucky author knew little of Arabic, and least of what is most wanted, the dialect of Egypt and Syria. His prose is so conscientious as to offer up spirit at the shrine of letter; and his verse, always whimsical, has at times a manner of Hibernian whoop which is comical when it should be pathetic. Lastly he printed only one volume of a series which completed would have contained nine or ten.
That amiable and devoted Arabist, the late Edward William Lane does not score a success in his “New Translation of the Tales of a Thousand and One Nights” (London: Charles Knight and Co., MDCCCXXXIX.) of which there have been four English editions, besides American, two edited by E. S. Poole. He chose the abbreviating Bulak Edition; and, of its two hundred tales, he has omitted about half and by far the more characteristic half: the work was intended for “the drawing room table;” and, consequently, the workman was compelled to avoid the “objectionable” and aught “approaching to licentiousness.” He converts the Arabian Nights into the Arabian Chapters, arbitrarily changing the division and, worse still, he converts some chapters into notes. He renders poetry by prose and apologises for not omitting it altogether: he neglects assonance and he is at once too Oriental and not Oriental enough. He had small store of Arabic at the time — Lane of the Nights is not Lane of the Dictionary — and his pages are disfigured by many childish mistakes. Worst of all, the three handsome volumes are rendered unreadable as Sale’s Koran by their anglicised Latin, their sesquipedalian un English words, and the stiff and stilted style of half a century ago when our prose was, perhaps, the worst in Europe. Their cargo of Moslem learning was most valuable to the student, but utterly out of place for readers of “The Nights;” re-published, as these notes have been separately (London, Chatto, 1883), they are an ethnological text book.
Mr. John Payne has printed, for the Villon Society and for private circulation only, the first and sole complete translation of the great compendium, “comprising about four times as much matter as that of Galland, and three times as much as that of any other translator;” and I cannot but feel proud that he has honoured me with the dedication of “The Book of The Thousand Nights and One Night.” His version is most readable: his English, with a sub-flavour of the Mabinogionic archaicism, is admirable; and his style gives life and light to the nine volumes whose matter is frequently heavy enough. He succeeds admirably in the most difficult passages and he often hits upon choice and special terms and the exact vernacular equivalent of the foreign word, so happily and so picturesquely that all future translators must perforce use the same expression under pain of falling far short. But the learned and versatile author bound himself to issue only five hundred copies, and “not to reproduce the work in its complete and uncastrated form.” Consequently his excellent version is caviaire to the general — practically unprocurable.
And here I hasten to confess that ample use has been made of the three versions above noted, the whole being blended by a callida junctura into a homogeneous mass. But in the presence of so many predecessors a writer is bound to show some raison d’etre for making a fresh attempt and this I proceed to do with due reserve.
Briefly, the object of this version is to show what “The Thousand Nights and a Night” really is. Not, however, for reasons to be more fully stated in the Terminal Essay, by straining verbum reddere verbo, but by writing as the Arab would have written in English. On this point I am all with Saint Jerome (Pref. in Jobum) “Vel verbum e verbo, vel sensum e sensu, vel ex utroque commixtum, et medic temperatum genus translationis.” My work claims to be a faithful copy of the great Eastern Saga book, by preserving intact, not only the spirit, but even the mécanique, the manner and the matter. Hence, however prosy and long drawn out be the formula, it retains the scheme of The Nights because they are a prime feature in the original. The Ráwí or reciter, to whose wits the task of supplying details is left, well knows their value: the openings carefully repeat the names of the dramatic personae and thus fix them in the hearer’s memory. Without the Nights no Arabian Nights! Moreover it is necessary to retain the whole apparatus: nothing more ill advised than Dr. Jonathan Scott’s strange device of garnishing The Nights with fancy head pieces and tail pieces or the splitting up of Galland’s narrative by merely prefixing “Nuit,” etc., ending moreover, with the ccxxxivth Night: yet this has been done, apparently with the consent of the great Arabist Sylvestre de Sacy (Paris, Ernest Bourdin). Moreover, holding that the translator’s glory is to add something to his native tongue, while avoiding the hideous hag like nakedness of Torrens and the bald literalism of Lane, I have carefully Englished the picturesque turns and novel expressions of the original in all their outlandishness; for instance, when the dust cloud raised by a tramping host is described as “walling the horizon.” Hence peculiar attention has been paid to the tropes and figures which the Arabic language often packs into a single term; and I have never hesitated to coin a word when wanted, such as “she snorted and sparked,” fully to represent the original. These, like many in Rabelais, are mere barbarisms unless generally adopted; in which case they become civilised and common currency.
Despite objections manifold and manifest, I have preserved the balance of sentences and the prose rhyme and rhythm which Easterns look upon as mere music. This “Saj’a,” or cadence of the cooing dove, has in Arabic its special duties. It adds a sparkle to description and a point to proverb, epigram and dialogue; it corresponds with our “artful alliteration” (which in places I have substituted for it) and, generally, it defines the boundaries between the classical and the popular styles which jostle each other in The Nights. If at times it appear strained and forced, after the wont of rhymed prose, the scholar will observe that, despite the immense copiousness of assonants and consonants in Arabic, the strain is often put upon it intentionally, like the Rims cars of Dante and the Troubadours. This rhymed prose may be “un English” and unpleasant, even irritating to the British ear; still I look upon it as a sine quâ non for a complete reproduction of the original. In the Terminal Essay I shall revert to the subject.
On the other hand when treating the versical portion, which may represent a total of ten thousand lines, I have not always bound myself by the metrical bonds of the Arabic, which are artificial in the extreme, and which in English can be made bearable only by a tour de force. I allude especially to the monorhyme, Rim continuat or tirade monorime, whose monotonous simplicity was preferred by the Troubadours for threnodies. It may serve well for three or four couplets but, when it extends, as in the Ghazal-cannon, to eighteen, and in the Kasidah, elegy or ode, to more, it must either satisfy itself with banal rhyme words, when the assonants should as a rule be expressive and emphatic; or, it must display an ingenuity, a smell of the oil, which assuredly does not add to the reader’s pleasure. It can perhaps be done and it should be done; but for me the task has no attractions: I can fence better in shoes than in sabots. Finally I print the couplets in Arab form separating the hemistichs by asterisks.
And now to consider one matter of special importance in the book — its turpiloquium. This stumbling-block is of two kinds, completely distinct. One is the simple, naïve and child like indecency which, from Tangiers to Japan, occurs throughout general conversation of high and low in the present day. It uses, like the holy books of the Hebrews, expressions “plainly descriptive of natural situations;” and it treats in an unconventionally free and naked manner of subjects and matters which are usually, by common consent, left undescribed. As Sir William Jones observed long ago, “that anything natural can be offensively obscene never seems to have occurred to the Indians or to their legislators; a singularity (?) pervading their writings and conversation, but no proof of moral depravity.” Another justly observes, Les peuples primitifs n’y entendent pas malice: ils appellent les choses par leurs noms et ne trouvent pas condamnable ce qui est naturel. And they are prying as children. For instance the European novelist marries off his hero and heroine and leaves them to consummate marriage in privacy; even Tom Jones has the decency to bolt the door. But the Eastern story teller, especially this unknown “prose Shakespeare,” must usher you, with a flourish, into the bridal chamber and narrate to you, with infinite gusto, everything he sees and hears. Again we must remember that grossness and indecency, in fact les turpitudes, are matters of time and place; what is offensive in England is not so in Egypt; what scandalises us now would have been a tame joke tempore Elisœ. Withal The Nights will not be found in this matter coarser than many passages of Shakespeare, Sterne, and Swift, and their uncleanness rarely attains the perfection of Alcofribas Naiser, “divin maitre et atroce cochon.” The other element is absolute obscenity, sometimes, but not always, tempered by wit, humour and drollery; here we have an exaggeration of Petronius Arbiter, the handiwork of writers whose ancestry, the most religious and the most debauched of mankind, practised every abomination before the shrine of the Canopic Gods.
In accordance with my purpose of reproducing the Nights, not virginibus puerisque, but in as perfect a picture as my powers permit, I have carefully sought out the English equivalent of every Arabic word, however low it may be or “shocking” to ears polite; preserving, on the other hand, all possible delicacy where the indecency is not intentional; and, as a friend advises me to state, not exaggerating the vulgarities and the indecencies which, indeed, can hardly be exaggerated. For the coarseness and crassness are but the shades of a picture which would otherwise be all lights. The general tone of The Nights is exceptionally high and pure. The devotional fervour often rises to the boiling point of fanaticism. The pathos is sweet, deep and genuine; tender, simple and true, utterly unlike much of our modern tinsel. Its life, strong, splendid and multitudinous, is everywhere flavoured with that unaffected pessimism and constitutional melancholy which strike deepest root under the brightest skies and which sigh in the face of heaven:—
Vita quid est hominis? Viridis floriscula mortis;
Sole Oriente oriens, sole cadente cadens.
Poetical justice is administered by the literary Kází with exemplary impartiality and severity; “denouncing evil doers and eulogising deeds admirably achieved.” The morale is sound and healthy; and at times we descry, through the voluptuous and libertine picture, vistas of a transcendental morality, the morality of Socrates in Plato. Subtle corruption and covert licentiousness are utterly absent; we find more real”vice” in many a short French roman, say La Dame aux Camélias, and in not a few English novels of our day than in the thousands of pages of the Arab. Here we have nothing of that most immodest modern modesty which sees covert implication where nothing is implied, and “improper” allusion when propriety is not outraged; nor do we meet with the Nineteenth Century refinement; innocence of the word not of the thought; morality of the tongue not of the heart, and the sincere homage paid to virtue in guise of perfect hypocrisy. It is, indeed, this unique contrast of a quaint element, childish crudities and nursery indecencies and “vain and amatorious” phrase jostling the finest and highest views of life and character, shown in the kaleidoscopic shiftings of the marvellous picture with many a “rich truth in a tale’s presence”, pointed by a rough dry humour which compares well with “wut; “the alternations of strength and weakness, of pathos and bathos, of the boldest poetry (the diction of Job) and the baldest prose (the Egyptian of today); the contact of religion and morality with the orgies of African Apuleius and Petronius Arbiter — at times taking away the reader’s breath — and, finally, the whole dominated everywhere by that marvellous Oriental fancy, wherein the spiritual and the supernatural are as common as the material and the natural; it is this contrast, I say, which forms the chiefest charm of The Nights, which gives it the most striking originality and which makes it a perfect expositor of the medieval Moslem mind.
Explanatory notes did not enter into Mr. Payne’s plan. They do with mine: I can hardly imagine The Nights being read to any profit by men of the West without commentary. My annotations avoid only one subject, parallels of European folklore and fabliaux which, however interesting, would overswell the bulk of a book whose speciality is anthropology. The accidents of my life, it may be said without undue presumption, my long dealings with Arabs and other Mahommedans, and my familiarity not only with their idiom but with their turn of thought, and with that racial individuality which baffles description, have given me certain advantages over the average student, however deeply he may have studied. These volumes, moreover, afford me a long sought opportunity of noticing practices and customs which interest all mankind and which “Society” will not hear mentioned. Grate, the historian, and Thackeray, the novelist, both lamented that the bégueulerie of their countrymen condemned them to keep silence where publicity was required; and that they could not even claim the partial licence of a Fielding and a Smollett. Hence a score of years ago I lent my best help to the late Dr. James Hunt in founding the Anthropological Society, whose presidential chair I first occupied (pp. 2–4 Anthropologia; London, Balliere, vol. i., No. I, 1873). My motive was to supply travellers with an organ which would rescue their observations from the outer darkness of manuscript, and print their curious information on social and sexual matters out of place in the popular book intended for the Nipptisch and indeed better kept from public view. But, hardly had we begun when “Respectability,” that whited sepulchre full of all uncleanness, rose up against us. “Propriety” cried us down with her brazen blatant voice, and the weak kneed brethren fell away. Yet the organ was much wanted and is wanted still. All now known barbarous tribes in Inner Africa, America and Australia, whose instincts have not been overlaid by reason, have a ceremony which they call “making men.” As soon as the boy shows proofs of puberty, he and his coevals are taken in hand by the mediciner and the Fetisheer; and, under priestly tuition, they spend months in the “bush,” enduring hardships and tortures which impress the memory till they have mastered the “theorick and practick” of social and sexual relations. Amongst the civilised this fruit of the knowledge tree must be bought at the price of the bitterest experience, and the consequences of ignorance are peculiarly cruel. Here, then, I find at last an opportunity of noticing in explanatory notes many details of the text which would escape the reader’s observation, and I am confident that they will form a repertory of Eastern knowledge in its esoteric phase. The student who adds the notes of Lane (“Arabian Society,” etc., before quoted) to mine will know as much of the Moslem East and more than many Europeans who have spent half their lives in Orient lands. For facility of reference an index of anthropological notes is appended to each volume.
The reader will kindly bear with the following technical details. Steinhaeuser and I began and ended our work with the first Bulak (“Bul.”) Edition printed at the port of Cairo in A.H. 1251 = A.D. 1835. But when preparing my Mss. for print I found the text incomplete, many of the stories being given in epitome and not a few ruthlessly mutilated with head or feet wanting. Like most Eastern scribes the Editor could not refrain from “improvements,” which only debased the book; and his sole title to excuse is that the second Bulak Edition (4 vols. A.H. 1279 = A.D. 1863), despite its being “revised and corrected by Sheik Mahommed Qotch Al-Adewi,” is even worse; and the same may be said of the Cairo Edit. (4 vols. A.H. 1297 = A. D. 1881). The Calcutta (“Calc.”) Edition, with ten lines of Persian preface by the Editor, Ahmed al-Shirwani (A.D. 1814), was cut short at the end of the first two hundred Nights, and thus made room for Sir William Hay Macnaghten’s Edition (4 vols. royal 4to) of 1839–42. This (“Mac.”), as by far the least corrupt and the most complete, has been assumed for my basis with occasional reference to the Breslau Edition (“Bres.”) wretchedly edited from a hideous Egyptian Ms. by Dr. Maximilian Habicht (1825–43). The Bayrut Text “Alif–Leila we Leila” (4 vols. at. 8vo, Beirut, 1881–83) is a melancholy specimen of The Nights taken entirely from the Bulak Edition by one Khalil Sarkis and converted to Christianity; beginning without Bismillah, continued with scrupulous castration and ending in ennui and disappointment. I have not used this missionary production.
As regards the transliteration of Arabic words I deliberately reject the artful and complicated system, ugly and clumsy withal, affected by scientific modern Orientalists. Nor is my sympathy with their prime object, namely to fit the Roman alphabet for supplanting all others. Those who learn languages, and many do so, by the eye as well as by the ear, well know the advantages of a special character to distinguish, for instance, Syriac from Arabic, Gujrati from Marathi. Again this Roman hand bewitched may have its use in purely scientific and literary works; but it would be wholly out of place in one whose purpose is that of the novel, to amuse rather than to instruct. Moreover the devices perplex the simple and teach nothing to the learned. Either the reader knows Arabic, in which case Greek letters, italics and “upper case,” diacritical points and similar typographic oddities are, as a rule with some exceptions, unnecessary; or he does not know Arabic, when none of these expedients will be of the least use to him. Indeed it is a matter of secondary consideration what system we prefer, provided that we mostly adhere to one and the same, for the sake of a consistency which saves confusion to the reader. I have especially avoided that of Mr. Lane, adopted by Mr. Payne, for special reasons against which it was vain to protest: it represents the debased brogue of Egypt or rather of Cairo; and such a word as Kemer (ez-Zeman) would be utterly un-pronounceable to a Badawi. Nor have I followed the practice of my learned friend, Reverend G. P. Badger, in mixing bars and acute accents; the former unpleasantly remind man of those hateful dactyls and spondees, and the latter should, in my humble opinion, be applied to long vowels which in Arabic double, or should double, the length of the shorts. Dr. Badger uses the acute symbol to denote accent or stress of voice; but such appoggio is unknown to those who speak with purest articulation; for instance whilst the European pronounces Mus-cat’, and the Arab villager Mas’-kat; the Children of the Waste, “on whose tongues Allah descended,” articulate Mas-kat. I have therefore followed the simple system adopted in my “Pilgrimage,” and have accented Arabic words only when first used, thinking it unnecessary to preserve throughout what is an eyesore to the reader and a distress to the printer. In the main I follow “Johnson on Richardson,” a work known to every Anglo–Orientalist as the old and trusty companion of his studies early and late; but even here I have made sundry deviations for reasons which will be explained in the Terminal Essay. As words are the embodiment of ideas and writing is of words, so the word is the spoken word; and we should write it as pronounced. Strictly speaking, the e-sound and the o-sound (viz. the Italian o-sound not the English which is peculiar to us and unknown to any other tongue) are not found in Arabic, except when the figure Imálah obliges: hence they are called “Yá al-Majhúl” and “Waw al-Majhúl” the unknown y (í) and u. But in all tongues vowel-sounds, the flesh which clothes the bones (consonants) of language, are affected by the consonants which precede and more especially which follow them, hardening and softening the articulation; and deeper sounds accompany certain letters as the sád ( ) compared with the sín ( ). None save a defective ear would hold, as Lane does, “Maulid” ( = birth-festival) “more properly pronounced ‘Molid.’” Yet I prefer Khokh (peach) and Jokh (broad cloth) to Khukh and Jukh; Ohod (mount) to Uhud; Obayd (a little slave) to Ubayd; and Hosayn (a fortlet, not the P. N. Al–Husayn) to Husayn. As for the short e in such words as “Memlúk” for “Mamluk” (a white slave), “Eshe” for “Asha” (supper), and “Yemen” for “Al-Yaman,” I consider it a flat Egyptianism, insufferable to an ear which admires the Badawi pronunciation. Yet I prefer “Shelebi” (a dandy) from the Turkish Chelebi, to “Shalabi;” “Zebdani” (the Syrian village) to “Zabdani,” and “Fes and Miknes” (by the figure Imálah) to “Fas and Miknás,”, our “Fez and Mequinez.”
With respect to proper names and untranslated Arabic words I have rejected all system in favour of common sense. When a term is incorporated in our tongue, I refuse to follow the purist and mortify the reader by startling innovation. For instance, Aleppo, Cairo and Bassorah are preferred to Halab, Kahirah and Al–Basrah; when a word is half naturalised, like Alcoran or Koran, Bashaw or Pasha, which the French write Pacha; and Mahomet or Mohammed (for Muhammad), the modern form is adopted because the more familiar. But I see no advantage in retaining,, simply because they are the mistakes of a past generation, such words as “Roc” (for Rikh),), Khalif (a pretentious blunder for Kalífah and better written Caliph) and “genie” ( = Jinn) a mere Gallic corruption not so terrible, however, as “a Bedouin” ( = Badawi).). As little too would I follow Mr. Lane in foisting upon the public such Arabisms as “Khuff” (a riding boot), “Mikra’ah” (a palm rod) and a host of others for which we have good English equivalents. On the other hand I would use, but use sparingly, certain Arabic exclamations, as “Bismillah” ( = in the name of Allah!) and “Inshallah” ( = if Allah please!), (= which have special applications and which have been made familiar to English ears by the genius of Fraser and Morier.
I here end these desultory but necessary details to address the reader in a few final words. He will not think lightly of my work when I repeat to him that with the aid of my annotations supplementing Lane’s, the student will readily and pleasantly learn more of the Moslem’s manners and customs, laws and religion than is known to the average Orientalist; and, if my labours induce him to attack the text of The Nights he will become master of much more Arabic than the ordinary Arab owns. This book is indeed a legacy which I bequeath to my fellow countrymen in their hour of need. Over devotion to Hindu, and especially to Sanskrit literature, has led them astray from those (so called) “Semitic” studies, which are the more requisite for us as they teach us to deal successfully with a race more powerful than any pagans — the Moslem. Apparently England is ever forgetting that she is at present the greatest Mohammedan empire in the world. Of late years she has systematically neglected Arabism and, indeed, actively discouraged it in examinations for the Indian Civil Service, where it is incomparably more valuable than Greek and Latin. Hence, when suddenly compelled to assume the reins of government in Moslem lands, as Afghanistan in times past and Egypt at present, she fails after a fashion which scandalises her few (very few) friends; and her crass ignorance concerning the Oriental peoples which should most interest her, exposes her to the contempt of Europe as well as of the Eastern world. When the regrettable raids of 1883–84, culminating in the miserable affairs of Tokar, Teb and Tamasi, were made upon the gallant Sudani negroids, the Bisharin outlying Sawakin, who were battling for the holy cause of liberty and religion and for escape from Turkish task-masters and Egyptian tax-gatherers, not an English official in camp, after the death of the gallant and lamented Major Morice, was capable of speaking Arabic. Now Moslems are not to be ruled by raw youths who should be at school and college instead of holding positions of trust and emolument. He who would deal with them successfully must be, firstly, honest and truthful and, secondly, familiar with and favourably inclined to their manners and customs if not to their law and religion. We may, perhaps, find it hard to restore to England those pristine virtues, that tone and temper, which made her what she is; but at any rate we (myself and a host of others) can offer her the means of dispelling her ignorance concerning the Eastern races with whom she is continually in contact.
In conclusion I must not forget to notice that the Arabic ornamentations of these volumes were designed by my excellent friend Yacoub Artin Pasha, of the Ministry of Instruction, Cairo, with the aid of the well-known writing artist, Shayth Mohammed Muunis the Cairene. My name, Al–Hajj Abdullah ( = the Pilgrim Abdallah) was written by an English calligrapher, the lamented Professor Palmer who found a premature death almost within sight of Suez.
Richard F. Burton
Wanderers’ Club, August 15, 1885.
In the Name of Allah,
the Compassionating, the Compassionate!
Praise Be to Allah
The Beneficent King
The Creator of the Universe
Lord of the Three Worlds
Who Set Up the Firmament Without Pillars in Its Stead
and Who Stretched Out the Earth Even As A Bed
and Grace, and Prayer-Blessing Be Upon Our Lord Mohammed
Lord of Apostolic Men
and Upon his Family and Companion Train
Prayer and Blessings Enduring and Grace Which Unto the Day of Doom Shall Remain
Amen!
O Thou of the Three Worlds Sovereign!
And afterwards. Verily the works and words of those gone before us have become instances and examples to men of our modern day, that folk may view what admonishing chances befel other folk and may therefrom take warning; and that they may peruse the annals of antique peoples and all that hath betided them, and be thereby ruled and restrained:— Praise, therefore, be to Him who hath made the histories of the Past an admonition unto the Present! Now of such instances are the tales called “A Thousand Nights and a Night,” together with their far famed legends and wonders. Therein it is related (but Allah is All knowing of His hidden things and All ruling and All honoured and All giving and All gracious and All merciful 1) that, in tide of yore and in time long gone before, there was a King of the Kings of the Banu Sásán in the Islands of India and China, a Lord of armies and guards and servants and dependents.2 He left only two sons, one in the prime of manhood and the other yet a youth, while both were Knights and Braves, albeit the elder was a doughtier horseman than the younger. So he succeeded to the empire; when he ruled the land and forded it over his lieges with justice so exemplary that he was beloved by all the peoples of his capital and of his kingdom. His name was King Shahryár3, and he made his younger brother, Shah Zamán hight, King of Samarcand in Barbarian land. These two ceased not to abide in their several realms and the law was ever carried out in their dominions; and each ruled his own kingdom, with equity and fair dealing to his subjects, in extreme solace and enjoyment; and this condition continually endured for a score of years. But at the end of the twentieth twelvemonth the elder King yearned for a sight of his younger brother and felt that he must look upon him once more. So he took counsel with his Wazír4 about visiting him, but the Minister, finding the project unadvisable, recommended that a letter be written and a present be sent under his charge to the younger brother with an invitation to visit the elder. Having accepted this advice the King forthwith bade prepare handsome gifts, such as horses with saddles of gem encrusted gold; Mamelukes, or white slaves; beautiful handmaids, high breasted virgins, and splendid stuffs and costly. He then wrote a letter to Shah Zaman expressing his warm love and great wish to see him, ending with these words, “We therefore hope of the favour and affection of the beloved brother that he will condescend to bestir himself and turn his face us wards. Furthermore we have sent our Wazir to make all ordinance for the march, and our one and only desire is to see thee ere we die; but if thou delay or disappoint us we shall not survive the blow. Wherewith peace be upon thee!” Then King Shahryar, having sealed the missive and given it to the Wazir with the offerings aforementioned, commanded him to shorten his skirts and strain his strength and make all expedition in going and returning. “Harkening and obedience!” quoth the Minister, who fell to making ready without stay and packed up his loads and prepared all his requisites without delay. This occupied him three days, and on the dawn of the fourth he took leave of his King and marched right away, over desert and hill’ way, stony waste and pleasant lea without halting by night or by day. But whenever he entered a realm whose ruler was subject to his Suzerain, where he was greeted with magnificent gifts of gold and silver and all manner of presents fair and rare, he would tarry there three days,5 the term of the guest rite; and, when he left on the fourth, he would be honourably escorted for a whole day’s march. As soon as the Wazir drew near Shah Zaman’s court in Samarcand he despatched to report his arrival one of his high officials, who presented himself before the King; and, kissing ground between his hands, delivered his message. Hereupon the King commanded sundry of his Grandees and Lords of his realm to fare forth and meet his brother’s Wazir at the distance of a full day’s journey; which they did, greeting him respectfully and wishing him all prosperity and forming an escort and a procession. When he entered the city he proceeded straightway to the palace, where he presented himself in the royal presence; and, after kissing ground and praying for the King’s health and happiness and for victory over all his enemies, he informed him that his brother was yearning to see him, and prayed for the pleasure of a visit. He then delivered the letter which Shah Zaman took from his hand and read: it contained sundry hints and allusions which required thought; but, when the King had fully comprehended its import, he said, “I hear and I obey the commands of the beloved brother!” adding to the Wazir, “But we will not march till after the third day’s hospitality.” He appointed for the Minister fitting quarters of the palace; and, pitching tents for the troops, rationed them with whatever they might require of meat and drink and other necessaries. On the fourth day he made ready for wayfare and got together sumptuous presents befitting his elder brother’s majesty, and stablished his chief Wazir viceroy of the land during his absence. Then he caused his tents and camels and mules to be brought forth and encamped, with their bales and loads, attend ants and guards, within sight of the city, in readiness to set out next morning for his brother’s capital. But when the night was half spent he bethought him that he had forgotten in his palace somewhat which he should have brought with him, so he re turned privily and entered his apartments, where he found the Queen, his wife, asleep on his own carpet bed, embracing with both arms a black cook of loathsome aspect and foul with kitchen grease and grime. When he saw this the world waxed black before his sight and he said, “If such case happen while I am yet within sight of the city what will be the doings of this damned whore during my long absence at my brother’s court?” So he drew his scymitar and, cutting the two in four pieces with a single blow, left them on the carpet and returned presently to his camp without letting anyone know of what had happened. Then he gave orders for immediate departure and set out at once and began his travel; but he could not help thinking over his wife’s treason and he kept ever saying to himself, “How could she do this deed by me? How could she work her own death?,” till excessive grief seized him, his colour changed to yellow, his body waxed weak and he was threatened with a dangerous malady, such an one as bringeth men to die. So the Wazir shortened his stages and tarried long at the watering stations and did his best to solace the King. Now when Shah Zaman drew near the capital of his brother he despatched vaunt couriers and messengers of glad tidings to announce his arrival, and Shahryar came forth to meet him with his Wazirs and Emirs and Lords and Grandees of his realm; and saluted him and joyed with exceeding joy and caused the city to be decorated in his honour. When, however, the brothers met, the elder could not but see the change of complexion in the younger and questioned him of his case whereto he replied, “Tis caused by the travails of wayfare and my case needs care, for I have suffered from the change of water and air! but Allah be praised for reuniting me with a brother so dear and so rare!” On this wise he dissembled and kept his secret, adding, “O King of the time and Caliph of the tide, only toil and moil have tinged my face yellow with bile and hath made my eyes sink deep in my head.” Then the two entered the capital in all honour; and the elder brother lodged the younger in a palace overhanging the pleasure garden; and, after a time, seeing his condition still unchanged, he attributed it to his separation from his country and kingdom. So he let him wend his own ways and asked no questions of him till one day when he again said, “O my brother, I see thou art grown weaker of body and yellower of colour.” “O my brother,” replied Shah Zaman “I have an internal wound:”6 still he would not tell him what he had witnessed in his wife. Thereupon Shahryar summoned doctors and surgeons and bade them treat his brother according to the rules of art, which they did for a whole month; but their sherbets and potions naught availed, for he would dwell upon the deed of his wife, and despondency, instead of diminishing, prevailed, and leach craft treatment utterly failed. One day his elder brother said to him, “I am going forth to hunt and course and to take my pleasure and pastime; maybe this would lighten thy heart.” Shah Zaman, however, refused, saying, “O my brother, my soul yearneth for naught of this sort and I entreat thy favour to suffer me tarry quietly in this place, being wholly taken up with my malady.” So King Shah Zaman passed his night in the palace and, next morning, when his brother had fared forth, he removed from his room and sat him down at one of the lattice windows overlooking the pleasure grounds; and there he abode thinking with saddest thought over his wife’s betrayal and burning sighs issued from his tortured breast. And as he continued in this case lo! a pastern of the palace, which was carefully kept private, swung open and out of it came twenty slave girls surrounding his bother’s wife who was wondrous fair, a model of beauty and comeliness and symmetry and perfect loveliness and who paced with the grace of a gazelle which panteth for the cooling stream. Thereupon Shah Zaman drew back from the window, but he kept the bevy in sight espying them from a place whence he could not be espied. They walked under the very lattice and advanced a little way into the garden till they came to a jetting fountain amiddlemost a great basin of water; then they stripped off their clothes and behold, ten of them were women, concubines of the King, and the other ten were white slaves. Then they all paired off, each with each: but the Queen, who was left alone, presently cried out in a loud voice, “Here to me, O my lord Saeed!” and then sprang with a drop leap from one of the trees a big slobbering blackamoor with rolling eyes which showed the whites, a truly hideous sight.7 He walked boldly up to her and threw his arms round her neck while she embraced him as warmly; then he bussed her and winding his legs round hers, as a button loop clasps a button, he threw her and enjoyed her. On like wise did the other slaves with the girls till all had satisfied their passions, and they ceased not from kissing and clipping, coupling and carousing till day began to wane; when the Mamelukes rose from the damsels’ bosoms and the blackamoor slave dismounted from the Queen’s breast; the men resumed their disguises and all, except the negro who swarmed up the tree, entered the palace and closed the postern door as before. Now, when Shah Zaman saw this conduct of his sister in law he said in himself, “By Allah, my calamity is lighter than this! My brother is a greater King among the kings than I am, yet this infamy goeth on in his very palace, and his wife is in love with that filthiest of filthy slaves. But this only showeth that they all do it8 and that there is no woman but who cuckoldeth her husband, then the curse of Allah upon one and all and upon the fools who lean against them for support or who place the reins of conduct in their hands.” So he put away his melancholy and despondency, regret and repine, and allayed his sorrow by constantly repeating those words, adding, “ ’Tis my conviction that no man in this world is safe from their malice!” When supper time came they brought him the trays and he ate with voracious appetite, for he had long refrained from meat, feeling unable to touch any dish however dainty. Then he returned grateful thanks to Almighty Allah, praising Him and blessing Him, and he spent a most restful night, it having been long since he had savoured the sweet food of sleep. Next day he broke his fast heartily and began to recover health and strength, and presently regained excellent condition. His brother came back from the chase ten days after, when he rode out to meet him and they saluted each other; and when King Shahryar looked at King Shah Zaman he saw how the hue of health had returned to him, how his face had waxed ruddy and how he ate with an appetite after his late scanty diet. He wondered much and said, “O my brother, I was so anxious that thou wouldst join me in hunting and chasing, and wouldst take thy pleasure and pastime in my dominion!” He thanked him and excused himself; then the two took horse and rode into the city and, when they were seated at their ease in the palace, the food trays were set before them and they ate their sufficiency. After the meats were removed and they had washed their hands, King Shahryar turned to his brother and said, “My mind is overcome with wonderment at thy condition. I was desirous to carry thee with me to the chase but I saw thee changed in hue, pale and wan to view, and in sore trouble of mind too. But now Alham-dolillah — glory be to God! — I see thy natural colour hath returned to thy face and that thou art again in the best of case. It was my belief that thy sickness came of severance from thy family and friends, and absence from capital and country, so I refrained from troubling thee with further questions. But now I beseech thee to expound to me the cause of thy complaint and thy change of colour, and to explain the reason of thy recovery and the return to the ruddy hue of health which I am wont to view. So speak out and hide naught!” When Shah Zaman heard this he bowed groundwards awhile his head, then raised it and said, “I will tell thee what caused my complaint and my loss of colour; but excuse my acquainting thee with the cause of its return to me and the reason of my complete recovery: indeed I pray thee not to press me for a reply.” Said Shahryar, who was much surprised by these words, “Let me hear first what produced thy pallor and thy poor condition.” “Know, then, O my brother,” rejoined Shah Zaman, “that when thou sentest thy Wazir with the invitation to place myself between thy hands, I made ready and marched out of my city; but presently I minded me having left behind me in the palace a string of jewels intended as a gift to thee. I returned for it alone and found my wife on my carpet bed and in the arms of a hideous black cook. So I slew the twain and came to thee, yet my thoughts brooded over this business and I lost my bloom and became weak. But excuse me if I still refuse to tell thee what was the reason of my complexion returning.” Shahryar shook his head, marvelling with extreme marvel, and with the fire of wrath flaming up from his heart, he cried, “Indeed, the malice of woman is mighty!” Then he took refuge from them with Allah and said, “In very sooth, O my brother, thou hast escaped many an evil by putting thy wife to death,9 and right excusable were thy wrath and grief for such mishap which never yet befel crowned King like thee. By Allah, had the case been mine, I would not have been satisfied without slaying a thousand women and that way madness lies! But now praise be to Allah who hath tempered to thee thy tribulation, and needs must thou acquaint me with that which so suddenly restored to thee complexion and health, and explain to me what causeth this concealment.” “O King of the Age, again I pray thee excuse my so doing!” “Nay, but thou must.” “I fear, O my brother, lest the recital cause thee more anger and sorrow than afflicted me.” “That were but a better reason,” quoth Shahryar, “for telling me the whole history, and I conjure thee by Allah not to keep back aught from me.” Thereupon Shah Zaman told him all he had seen, from commencement to con elusion, ending with these words, “When I beheld thy calamity and the treason of thy wife, O my brother, and I resected that thou art in years my senior and in sovereignty my superior, mine own sorrow was belittled by the comparison, and my mind recovered tone and temper: so throwing off melancholy and despondency, I was able to eat and drink and sleep, and thus I speedily regained health and strength. Such is the truth and the whole truth.” When King Shahryar heard this he waxed wroth with exceeding wrath, and rage was like to strangle him; but presently he recovered himself and said, “O my brother, I would not give thee the lie in this matter, but I cannot credit it till I see it with mine own eyes.” “An thou wouldst look upon thy calamity,” quoth Shah Zaman, “rise at once and make ready again for hunting and coursing.10 and then hide thyself with me, so shalt thou witness it and thine eyes shall verify it.” “True,” quoth the King; whereupon he let make proclamation of his in tent to travel, and the troops and tents fared forth without the city, camping within sight, and Shahryar sallied out with them and took seat amidmost his host, bidding the slaves admit no man to him. When night came on he summoned his Wazir and said to him, “Sit thou in my stead and let none wot of my absence till the term of three days.” Then the brothers disguised themselves and returned by night with all secrecy to the palace, where they passed the dark hours: and at dawn they seated themselves at the lattice overlooking the pleasure grounds, when presently the Queen and her handmaids came out as before, and passing under the windows made for the fountain. Here they stripped, ten of them being men to ten women, and the King’s wife cried out, “Where art thou, O Saeed?” The hideous blackamoor dropped from the tree straightway; and, rushing into her arms without stay or delay, cried out, “I am Sa’ad al Din Saood!”11 The lady laughed heartily, and all fell to satisfying their lusts, and remained so occupied for a couple of hours, when the white slaves rose up from the handmaidens’ breasts and the blackamoor dismounted from the Queen’s bosom: then they went into the basin and, after performing the Ghusl, or complete ablution, donned their dresses and retired as they had done before. When King Shahryar saw this infamy of his wife and concubines he became as one distraught and he cried out, “Only in utter solitude can man be safe from the doings of this vile world! By Allah, life is naught but one great wrong.” Presently he added, “Do not thwart me, O my brother, in what I propose;” and the other answered, “I will not.” So he said, “Let us up as we are and depart forthright hence, for we have no concern with Kingship, and let us overwander Allah’s earth, worshipping the Almighty till we find some one to whom the like calamity hath happened; and if we find none then will death be more welcome to us than life.” So the two brothers issued from a second private postern of the palace; and they never stinted wayfaring by day and by night, until they reached a tree a middle of a meadow hard by a spring of sweet water on the shore of the salt sea. Both drank of it and sat down to take their rest; and when an hour of the day had gone by: lo! they heard a mighty roar and uproar in the middle of the main as though the heavens were falling upon the earth; and the sea brake with waves before them, and from it towered a black pillar, which grew and grew till it rose skywards and began making for that meadow. Seeing it, they waxed fearful exceedingly and climbed to the top of the tree, which was a lofty; whence they gazed to see what might be the matter. And behold, it was a Jinni,12 huge of height and burly of breast and bulk, broad of brow and black of blee, bearing on his head a coffer of crystal. He strode to land, wading through the deep, and coming to the tree whereupon were the two Kings, seated himself beneath it. He then set down the coffer on its bottom and out it drew a casket, with seven padlocks of steel, which he unlocked with seven keys of steel he took from beside his thigh, and out of it a young lady to come was seen, white-skinned and of winsomest mien, of stature fine and thin, and bright as though a moon of the fourteenth night she had been, or the sun raining lively sheen. Even so the poet Utayyah hath excellently said:—
She rose like the morn as she shone through the night
And she gilded the grove with her gracious sight:
From her radiance the sun taketh increase when
She unveileth and shameth the moonshine bright.
Bow down all beings between her hands
As she showeth charms with her veil undight.
And she floodeth cities13 with torrent tears
When she flasheth her look of leven light.
The Jinni seated her under the tree by his side and looking at her said, “O choicest love of this heart of mine! O dame of noblest line, whom I snatched away on thy bride night that none might prevent me taking thy maidenhead or tumble thee before I did, and whom none save myself hath loved or hath enjoyed: O my sweetheart! I would fief sleep a little while.” He then laid his head upon the lady’s thighs; and, stretching out his legs which extended down to the sea, slept and snored and sparked like the roll of thunder. Presently she raised her head towards the tree top and saw the two Kings perched near the summit; then she softly lifted off her lap the Jinni’s pate which she was tired of supporting and placed it upon the ground; then standing upright under the tree signed to the Kings, “Come ye down, ye two, and fear naught from this Ifrit.”14 They were in a terrible fright when they found that she had seen them and answered her in the same manner, “Allah upon thee15 and by thy modesty, O lady, excuse us from coming down!” But she rejoined by saying, “Allah upon you both, that ye come down forthright, and if ye come not, I will rouse upon you my husband, this Ifrit, and he shall do you to die by the illest of deaths;” and she continued making signals to them. So, being afraid, they came down to her and she rose be fore them and said, “Stroke me a strong stroke, without stay or delay, otherwise will I arouse and set upon you this Ifrit who shall slay you straightway.” They said to her, “O our lady, we conjure thee by Allah, let us off this work, for we are fugitives from such and in extreme dread and terror of this thy husband. How then can we do it in such a way as thou desirest?” “Leave this talk: it needs must be so;” quoth she, and she swore them by Him16 who raised the skies on high, without prop or pillar, that, if they worked not her will, she would cause them to be slain and cast into the sea. Whereupon out of fear King Shahryar said to King Shah Zaman, “O my brother, do thou what she biddeth thee do;” but he replied, “I will not do it till thou do it before I do.” And they began disputing about futtering her. Then quoth she to the twain, “How is it I see you disputing and demurring; if ye do not come forward like men and do the deed of kind ye two, I will arouse upon you the If rit.” At this, by reason of their sore dread of the Jinni, both did by her what she bade them do; and, when they had dismounted from her, she said, “Well done!” She then took from her pocket a purse and drew out a knotted string, whereon were strung five hundred and seventy17 seal rings, and asked, “Know ye what be these?” They answered her saying, “We know not!” Then quoth she; “These be the signets of five hundred and seventy men who have all futtered me upon the horns of this foul, this foolish, this filthy Ifrit; so give me also your two seal rings, ye pair of brothers.” When they had drawn their two rings from their hands and given them to her, she said to them, “Of a truth this If rit bore me off on my bride night, and put me into a casket and set the casket in a coffer and to the coffer he affixed seven strong padlocks of steel and deposited me on the deep bottom of the sea that raves, dashing and clashing with waves; and guarded me so that I might remain chaste and honest, quotha! none save himself might have connexion with me. But I have lain under as many of my kind as I please, and this wretched Jinni wotteth not that Des tiny may not be averted nor hindered by aught, and that whatso woman willeth the same she fulfilleth however man nilleth. Even so saith one of them. —
Rely not on women;
Trust not to their hearts,
Whose joys and whose sorrows
Are hung to their parts!
Lying love they will swear thee
Whence guile ne’er departs:
Take Yusuf18 for sample
‘Ware sleights and ‘ware smarts!
Iblis19 ousted Adam
(See ye not?) thro’ their arts.
And another saith:—
Stint thy blame, man! ’Twill drive to a passion without bound;
My fault is not so heavy as fault in it hast found.
If true lover I become, then to me there cometh not
Save what happened unto many in the bygone stound.
For wonderful is he and right worthy of our praise
Who from wiles of female wits kept him safe and kept him sound.”
Hearing these words they marvelled with exceeding marvel, and she went from them to the Ifrit and, taking up his head on her thigh as before, said to them softly, “Now wend your ways and bear yourselves beyond the bounds of his malice.” So they fared forth saying either to other, “Allah! Allah!” and, “There be no Majesty and there be no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great; and with Him we seek refuge from women’s malice and sleight, for of a truth it hath no mate in might. Consider, O my brother, the ways of this marvellous lady with an Ifrit who is so much more powerful than we are. Now since there hath hap pened to him a greater mishap than that which befel us and which should bear us abundant consolation, so return we to our countries and capitals, and let us decide never to intermarry with womankind and presently we will show them what will be our action.” Thereupon they rode back to the tents of King Shahryar, which they reached on the morning of the third day; and, having mustered the Wazirs and Emirs, the Chamberlains and high officials, he gave a robe of honour to his Viceroy and issued orders for an immediate return to the city. There he sat him upon his throne and sending for the Chief Minister, the father of the two damsels who (Inshallah!) will presently be mentioned, he said, “I command thee to take my wife and smite her to death; for she hath broken her plight and her faith.” So he carried her to the place of execution and did her die. Then King Shahryar took brand in hand and repairing to the Serraglio slew all the concubines and their Mamelukes.20 He also sware himself by a binding oath that whatever wife he married he would abate her maidenhead at night and slay her next morning to make sure of his honour; “For,” said he, “there never was nor is there one chaste woman upon face of earth.” Then Shah Zaman prayed for permission to fare homewards; and he went forth equipped and escorted and travelled till he reached his own country. Mean while Shahryar commanded his Wazir to bring him the bride of the night that he might go in to her; so he produced a most beautiful girl, the daughter of one of the Emirs and the King went in unto her at eventide and when morning dawned he bade his Minister strike off her head; and the Wazir did accordingly for fear of the Sultan. On this wise he continued for the space of three years; marrying a maiden every night and killing her the next morning, till folk raised an outcry against him and cursed him, praying Allah utterly to destroy him and his rule; and women made an uproar and mothers wept and parents fled with their daughters till there remained not in the city a young person fit for carnal copulation. Presently the King ordered his Chief Wazir, the same who was charged with the executions, to bring him a virgin as was his wont; and the Minister went forth and searched and found none; so he returned home in sorrow and anxiety fearing for his life from the King. Now he had two daughters, Shahrazad and Dunyazad hight,21 of whom the elder had perused the books, annals and legends of preceding Kings, and the stories, examples and instances of by gone men and things; indeed it was said that she had collected a thousand books of histories relating to antique races and departed rulers. She had perused the works of the poets and knew them by heart; she had studied philosophy and the sciences, arts and accomplish meets; and she was pleasant and polite, wise and witty, well read and well bred. Now on that day she said to her father, “Why do I see thee thus changed and laden with cark and care? Concerning this matter quoth one of the poets. —
Tell whoso hath sorrow
Grief never shall last:
E’en as joy hath no morrow
So woe shall go past.”
When the Wazir heard from his daughter these words he related to her, from first to last, all that had happened between him and the King. Thereupon said she, “By Allah, O my father, how long shall this slaughter of women endure? Shall I tell thee what is in my mind in order to save both sides from destruction?” “Say on, O my daughter,” quoth he, and quoth she, “I wish thou wouldst give me in marriage to this King Shahryar; either I shall live or I shall be a ransom for the virgin daughters of Moslems and the cause of their deliverance from his hands and thine.”22 “Allah upon thee!” cried he in wrath exceeding that lacked no feeding, “O scanty of wit, expose not thy life to such peril! How durst thou address me in words so wide from wisdom and unfar from foolishness? Know that one who lacketh experience in worldly matters readily falleth into misfortune; and whoso considereth not the end keepeth not the world to friend, and the vulgar say:— I was lying at mine ease: nought but my officiousness brought me unease.” “Needs must thou,” she broke in, “make me a doer of this good deed, and let him kill me an he will: I shall only die a ransom for others.” “O my daughter,” asked he. “and how shall that profit thee when thou shalt have thrown away thy life?” and she answered, “O my father it must be, come of it what will!” The Wazir was again moved to fury and blamed and reproached her, ending with, “In very deed — I fear lest the same befal thee which befel the Bull and the Ass with the Husband man.” “And what,” asked she, “befel them, O my father?” Whereupon the Wazir began the
1 Allaho A’alam, a deprecatory formula, used because the writer is going to indulge in a series of what may possibly be untruths.
2 The “Sons of Sásán” are the famous Sassanides whose dynasty ended with the Arabian Conquest (A.D.641). “Island” Jazírah) in Arabic also means “Peninsula,” and causes much confusion in geographical matters.
3 Shahryár not Shahriyar (Persian) = “City-friend.” The Bulak edition corrupts it to Shahrbáz (City-hawk), and the Breslau to Shahrbán or “Defender of the City,” like Marz-ban=Warden of the Marshes. Shah Zamán (Persian)=“King of the Age:” Galland prefers Shah Zenan, or “King of women,” and the Bull edit. changes it to Shah Rummán, “Pomegranate King.” Al–Ajam denotes all regions not Arab (Gentiles opposed to Jews, Mlechchhas to Hindus, Tajiks to Turks, etc., etc.), and especially Persia; Ajami (a man of Ajam) being an equivalent of the Gr. {Greek Letters}. See Vol.. ii., p. 1.
4 Galland writes “Vizier,” a wretched frenchification of a mincing Turkish mispronunciation; Torrens, “Wuzeer” (Anglo- Indian and Gilchristian); Lane, “Wezeer”; (Egyptian or rather Cairene); Payne, “Vizier,” according to his system; Burckhardt (Proverbs), “Vizír;” and Mr. Keith–Falconer, “Vizir.” The root is popularly supposed to be “wizr” (burden) and the meaning “Minister;” Wazir al-Wuzará being “Premier.” In the Koran (chaps. xx., 30) Moses says, “Give me a Wazir of my family, Harun (Aaron) my brother.” Sale, followed by the excellent version of the Rev. J. M. Rodwell, translates a “Counsellor,” and explains by “One who has the chief administration of affairs under a prince.” But both learned Koranists learnt their Orientalism in London, and, like such students generally, fail only upon the easiest points, familiar to all old dwellers in the East.
5 This three-days term (rest-day, drest-day and departure day) seems to be an instinct-made rule in hospitality. Among Moslems it is a Sunnat or practice of the Prophet.)
6 i.e., I am sick at heart.
7 Debauched women prefer negroes on account of the size of their parts. I measured one man in Somali-land who, when quiescent, numbered nearly six inches. This is a characteristic of the negro race and of African animals; e.g. the horse; whereas the pure Arab, man and beast, is below the average of Europe; one of the best proofs by the by, that the Egyptian is not an Asiatic, but a negro partially white-washed. Moreover, these imposing parts do not increase proportionally during erection; consequently, the “deed of kind” takes a much longer time and adds greatly to the woman’s enjoyment. In my time no honest Hindi Moslem would take his women-folk to Zanzibar on account of the huge attractions and enormous temptations there and thereby offered to them. Upon the subject of Imsák = retention of semen and “prolongation of pleasure,” I shall find it necessary to say more.
8 The very same words were lately spoken in England proving the eternal truth of The Nights which the ignorant call “downright lies.”
9 The Arab’s Tue la!
10 Arab. “Sayd wa kanas”: the former usually applied to fishing; hence Sayda (Sidon) = fish-town. But noble Arabs (except the Caliph Al–Amin) do not fish; so here it means simply “sport,” chasing, coursing, birding (oiseler), and so forth.
11 In the Mac. Edit. the negro is called “Mas’úd”; here he utters a kind of war-cry and plays upon the name, “Sa’ád, Sa’íd, Sa’úd,” and “Mas’ud”, all being derived from one root, “Sa’ad” = auspiciousness, prosperity.
12 The Arab. singular (whence the French “génie”), fem. Jinniyah; the Div and Rakshah of old Guebre-land and the “Rakshasa,” or “Yaksha,” of Hinduism. It would be interesting to trace the evident connection, by no means “accidental,” of “Jinn” with the “Genius” who came to the Romans through the Asiatic Etruscans, and whose name I cannot derive from “gignomai” or “genitus.” He was unknown to the Greeks, who had the Daimon {Greek Letters}, a family which separated, like the Jinn and the Genius, into two categories, the good (Agatho-dæmons) and the bad (Kako-dæmons). We know nothing concerning the status of the Jinn amongst the pre-Moslemitic or pagan Arabs: the Moslems made him a supernatural anthropoid being, created of subtile fire (Koran chapts. xv. 27; lv. 14), not of earth like man, propagating his kind, ruled by mighty kings, the last being Ján bin Ján, missionarised by Prophets and subject to death and Judgment. From the same root are “Junún” = madness (i.e., possession or obsession by the Jinn) and “Majnún”=a madman. According to R. Jeremiah bin Eliazar in Psalm xii. 5, Adam was excommunicated for one hundred and thirty years, during which he begat children in his own image (Gen. v. 3) and these were Mazikeen or Shedeem-Jinns. Further details anent the Jinn will presently occur.
13 Arab. “Amsár” (cities): in Bull Edit. “Amtár” (rains), as in Mac. Edit. So Mr. Payne (I., 5) translates: And when she flashes forth the lightning of her glance, She maketh eyes to rain, like showers, with many a tear. I would render it, “She makes whole cities shed tears,” and prefer it for a reason which will generally influence me its superior exaggeration and impossibility.
14 Not “A-frit,” pronounced Aye-frit, as our poets have it. This variety of the Jinn, who, as will be shown, are divided into two races like mankind, is generally, but not always, a malignant being, hostile and injurious to mankind (Koran xxvii. 39).
15 i.e., “I conjure thee by Allah;” the formula is technically called “Inshád.”
16 This introducing the name of Allah into an indecent tale is essentially Egyptian and Cairene. But see Boccaccio ii. 6, and vii. 9.
17 So in the Mac. Edit.; in others “ninety.” I prefer the greater number as exaggeration is a part of the humour. In the Hindu “Kathá Sárit Ságara” (Sea of the Streams of Story), the rings are one hundred and the catastrophe is more moral, the good youth Yashodhara rejects the wicked one’s advances; she awakes the water-sprite, who is about to slay him, but the rings are brought as testimony and the improper young person’s nose is duly cut off. (Chap. Ixiii.; p. 80, of the excellent translation by Prof. C. H. Tawney: for the Bibliotheca Indica: Calcutta, 1881.) The Kathá, etc., by Somadeva (century xi), is a poetical version of the prose compendium, the “Vrihat Kathá” (Great Story) by Gunadhya (cent. vi).
18 The Joseph of the Koran, very different from him of Genesis. We shall meet him often enough in The Nights.
19 “Iblis,” vulgarly written “Eblis,” from a root meaning The Despairer, with a suspicious likeness to Diabolos; possibly from “Bales,” a profligate. Some translate it The Calumniator, as Satan is the Hater. Iblis (who appears in the Arab. version of the N. Testament) succeeded another revolting angel Al–Haris; and his story of pride refusing to worship Adam, is told four times in the Koran from the Talmud (Sanhedrim 29). He caused Adam and Eve to lose Paradise (ii. 34); he still betrays mankind (xxv. 31), and at the end of time he, with the other devils, will be “gathered together on their knees round Hell” (xix. 69). He has evidently had the worst of the game, and we wonder, with Origen, Tillotson, Burns and many others, that he does not throw up the cards.
20 A similar tale is still told at Akká (St. John d’Acre) concerning the terrible “butcher”— Jazzár (Djezzar) Pasha. One can hardly pity women who are fools enough to run such risks. According to Frizzi, Niccolò, Marquis of Este, after beheading Parisina, ordered all the faithless wives of Ferrara to be treated in like manner.
21 “Shahrázád” (Persian) = City-freer, in the older version Scheherazade (probably both from Shirzád=lion-born). “Dunyázád”=World-freer. The Bres. Edit. corrupts former to Sháhrzád or Sháhrazád, and the Mac. and Calc. to Shahrzád or Shehrzád. I have ventured to restore the name as it should be. Galland for the second prefers Dinarzade (?) and Richardson Dinazade (Dinázád = Religion — freer): here I have followed Lane and Payne; though in “First Footsteps” I was misled by Galland. See Vol. ii. p. 1.
22 Probably she proposed to “Judith” the King. These learned and clever young ladies are very dangerous in the East.
Know, O my daughter, that there was once a merchant who owned much money and many men, and who was rich in cattle and camels; he had also a wife and family and he dwelt in the country, being experienced in husbandry and devoted to agriculture. Now Allah Most High had endowed him with under standing the tongues of beasts and birds of every kind, but under pain of death if he divulged the gift to any. So he kept it secret for very fear. He had in his cow house a Bull and an Ass each tethered in his own stall one hard by the other. As the merchant was sitting near hand one day with his servants and his children were playing about him, he heard the Bull say to the Ass, “Hail and health to thee O Father of Waking!2 for that thou enjoyest rest and good ministering; all under thee is clean swept and fresh sprinkled; men wait upon thee and feed thee, and thy provaunt is sifted barley and thy drink pure spring water, while I (unhappy creature!) am led forth in the middle of the night, when they set on my neck the plough and a something called Yoke; and I tire at cleaving the earth from dawn of day till set of sun. I am forced to do more than I can and to bear all manner of ill treatment from night to night; after which they take me back with my sides torn, my neck flayed, my legs aching and mine eyelids sored with tears. Then they shut me up in the byre and throw me beans and crushed straw,3 mixed with dirt and chaff; and I lie in dung and filth and foul stinks through the livelong night. But thou art ever in a place swept and sprinkled and cleansed, and thou art always lying at ease, save when it happens (and seldom enough!) that the master hath some business, when he mounts thee and rides thee to town and returns with thee forthright. So it happens that I am toiling and distress while thou takest thine ease and thy rest; thou sleepest while I am sleepless; I hunger still while thou eatest thy fill, and I win contempt while thou winnest good will.” When the Bull ceased speaking, the Ass turned to wards him and said, “O Broad o’ Brow,4 0 thou lost one! he lied not who dubbed thee Bull head, for thou, O father of a Bull, hast neither forethought nor contrivance; thou art the simplest of simpletons,5 and thou knowest naught of good advisers. Hast thou not heard the saying of the wise:—
For others these hardships and labours I bear
And theirs is the pleasure and mine is the care;
As the bleacher who blacketh his brow in the sun
To whiten the raiment which other men wear.6
But thou, O fool, art full of zeal and thou toilest and moilest before the master; and thou tearest and wearest and slayest thy self for the comfort of another. Hast thou never heard the saw that saith, None to guide and from the way go wide? Thou wendest forth at the call to dawn prayer and thou returnest not till sundown; and through the livelong day thou endurest all manner hardships; to wit, beating and belabouring and bad language. Now hearken to me, Sir Bull! when they tie thee to thy stinking manger, thou pawest the ground with thy forehand and rashest out with thy hind hoofs and pushest with thy horns and bellowest aloud, so they deem thee contented. And when they throw thee thy fodder thou fallest on it with greed and hastenest to line thy fair fat paunch. But if thou accept my advice it will be better for thee and thou wilt lead an easier life even than mine. When thou goest a field and they lay the thing called Yoke on thy neck, lie down and rise not again though haply they swinge thee; and, if thou rise, lie down a second time; and when they bring thee home and offer thee thy beans, fall backwards and only sniff at thy meat and withdraw thee and taste it not, and be satis fied with thy crushed straw and chaff; and on this wise feign thou art sick, and cease not doing thus for a day or two days or even three days, so shalt thou have rest from toil and moil.” When the Bull heard these words he knew the Ass to be his friend and thanked him, saying, “Right is thy rede;” and prayed that all blessings might requite him, and cried, “O Father Wakener!7 thou hast made up for my failings.” (Now8 the merchant, O my daughter, understood all that passed between them.) Next day the driver took the Bull, and settling the plough on his neck,9 made him work as wont; but the Bull began to shirk his ploughing, according to the advice of the Ass, and the ploughman drubbed him till he broke the yoke and made off; but the man caught him up and leathered him till he despaired of his life. Not the less, however, would he do nothing but stand still and drop down till the evening. Then the herd led him home and stabled him in his stall: but he drew back from his manger and neither stamped nor ramped nor butted nor bellowed as he was wont to do; whereat the man wondered. He brought him the beans and husks, but he sniffed at them and left them and lay down as far from them as he could and passed the whole night fasting. The peasant came next morning; and, seeing the manger full of beans, the crushed straw untasted and the ox lying on his back in sorriest plight, with legs outstretched and swollen belly, he was concerned for him, and said to himself, “By Allah, he hath assuredly sickened and this is the cause why he would not plough yesterday.” Then he went to the merchant and reported, “O my master, the Bull is ailing; he refused his fodder last night; nay more, he hath not tasted a scrap of it this morning.” Now the merchant farmer understood what all this meant, because he had overheard the talk between the Bull and the Ass, so quoth he, “Take that rascal donkey, and set the yoke on his neck, and bind him to the plough and make him do Bull’s work.” Thereupon the ploughman took the Ass, and worked him through the live long day at the Bull’s task; and, when he failed for weakness, he made him eat stick till his ribs were sore and his sides were sunken and his neck was hayed by the yoke; and when he came home in the evening he could hardly drag his limbs along, either fore hand or hind legs. But as for the Bull, he had passed the day lying at full length and had eaten his fodder with an excellent appetite, and he ceased not calling down blessings on the Ass for his good advice, unknowing what had come to him on his ac count. So when night set in and the Ass returned to the byte the Bull rose up before him in honour, and said, “May good tidings gladden thy heart, O Father Wakener! through thee I have rested all this day and I have eaten my meat in peace and quiet.” But the Ass returned no reply, for wrath and heart burning and fatigue and the beating he had gotten; and he repented with the most grievous of repentance; and quoth he to himself: “This cometh of my folly in giving good counsel; as the saw saith, I was in joy and gladness, nought save my officiousness brought me this sadness. But I will bear in mind my innate worth and the nobility of my nature; for what saith the poet?
Shall the beautiful hue of the Basil10 fail
Tho’ the beetle’s foot o’er the Basil crawl?
And though spider and fly be its denizens
Shall disgrace attach to the royal hall?
The cowrie,11 I ken, shall have currency
But the pearl’s clear drop, shall its value fall?
And now I must take thought and put a trick upon him and return him to his place, else I die.” Then he went aweary to his manger, while the Bull thanked him and blessed him. And even so, O my daughter, said the Wazir, thou wilt die for lack of wits; therefore sit thee still and say naught and expose not thy life to such stress; for, by Allah, I offer thee the best advice, which cometh of my affection and kindly solicitude for thee.” “O my father,” she answered, “needs must I go up to this King and be married to him.” Quoth he, “Do not this deed;” and quoth she, “Of a truth I will:” whereat he rejoined, “If thou be not silent and bide still, I will do with thee even what the merchant did with his wife.” “And what did he?” asked she. “Know then, answered the Wazir, that after the return of the Ass the merchant came out on the terrace roof with his wife and family, for it was a moonlit night and the moon at its full. Now the ter race overlooked the cowhouse and presently, as he sat there with his children playing about him, the trader heard the Ass say to the Bull, “Tell me, O Father Broad o’ Brow, what thou purposest to do to morrow?” The Bull answered, “What but continue to follow thy counsel, O Aliboron? Indeed it was as good as good could be and it hath given me rest and repose; nor will I now depart from it one little: so, when they bring me my meat, I will refuse it and blow out my belly and counterfeit crank.” The Ass shook his head and said, “Beware of so doing, O Father of a Bull!” The Bull asked, “Why,” and the Ass answered, “Know that I am about to give thee the best of counsel, for verily I heard our owner say to the herd, If the Bull rise not from his place to do his work this morning and if he retire from his fodder this day, make him over to the butcher that he may slaughter him and give his flesh to the poor, and fashion a bit of leather12 from his hide. Now I fear for thee on account of this. So take my advice ere a calamity befal thee; and when they bring thee thy fodder eat it and rise up and bellow and paw the ground, or our master will assuredly slay thee: and peace be with thee!” Thereupon the Bull arose and lowed aloud and thanked the Ass, and said, “To morrow I will readily go forth with them;” and he at once ate up all his meat and even licked the manger. (All this took place and the owner was listening to their talk.) Next morning the trader and his wife went to the Bull’s crib and sat down, and the driver came and led forth the Bull who, seeing his owner, whisked his tail and brake wind, and frisked about so lustily that the merchant laughed a loud laugh and kept laughing till he fell on his back. His wife asked him, “Whereat laughest thou with such loud laughter as this?”; and he answered her, “I laughed at a secret something which I have heard and seen but cannot say lest I die my death.” She returned, “Perforce thou must discover it to me, and disclose the cause of thy laughing even if thou come by thy death!” But he rejoined, “I cannot re veal what beasts and birds say in their lingo for fear I die.” Then quoth she, “By Allah, thou liest! this is a mere pretext: thou laughest at none save me, and now thou wouldest hide somewhat from me. But by the Lord of the Heavens! an thou disclose not the cause I will no longer cohabit with thee: I will leave thee at once.” And she sat down and cried. Whereupon quoth the merchant, “Woe betide thee! what means thy weeping? Bear Allah and leave these words and query me no more questions.” “Needs must thou tell me the cause of that laugh,” said she, and he replied, “Thou wottest that when I prayed Allah to vouchsafe me understanding of the tongues of beasts and birds, I made a vow never to disclose the secret to any under pain of dying on the spot.” “No matter,” cried she, “tell me what secret passed between the Bull and the Ass and die this very hour an thou be so minded;” and she ceased not to importune him till he was worn out and clean distraught. So at last he said, “Summon thy father and thy mother and our kith and kin and sundry of our neighbours,” which she did; and he sent for the Kazi13 and his assessors, intending to make his will and reveal to her his secret and die the death; for he loved her with love exceeding because she was his cousin, the daughter of his father’s brother, and the mother of his children, and he had lived with her a life of an hundred and twenty years. Then, having assembled all the family and the folk of his neighbourhood, he said to them, “By me there hangeth a strange story, and ’tis such that if I discover the secret to any, I am a dead man.” Therefore quoth every one of those present to the woman, “Allah upon thee, leave this sinful obstinacy and recognise the right of this matter, lest haply thy husband and the father of thy children die.” But she rejoined, “I will not turn from it till he tell me, even though he come by his death.” So they ceased to urge her; and the trader rose from amongst them and repaired to an out house to perform Wuzu ablution,14 and he purposed thereafter to return and to tell them his secret and to die. Now, daughter Shahrazad, that merchant had in his out houses some fifty hens under one cock, and whilst making ready to farewell his folk he heard one of his many farm dogs thus address in his own tongue the Cock, who was flapping his wings and crowing lustily and jumping from one hen’s back to another and treading all in turn, saying “O Chanticlear! how mean is thy wit and how shameless is thy conduct! Be he disappointed who brought thee up!15 Art thou not ashamed of thy doings on such a day as this!” “And what,” asked the Rooster, “hath occurred this day?” when the Dog answered, “Doss thou not know that our master is this day making ready for his death? His wife is resolved that he shall disclose the secret taught to him by Allah, and the moment he so doeth he shall surely die. We dogs are all a mourning; but thou clappest thy wings and clarionest thy loudest and treadest hen after hen. Is this an hour for pastime and pleasuring? Art thou not ashamed of thyself?”16 “Then by Allah,” quoth the Cock, “is our master a lack wit and a man scanty of sense: if he cannot manage matters with a single wife, his life is not worth prolonging. Now I have some fifty Dame Partlets; and I please this and provoke that and starve one and stuff another; and through my good governance they are all well under my control. This our master pretendeth to wit and wisdom, and he hath but one wife, and yet knoweth not how to manage her.” Asked the Dog, “What then, O Cock, should the master do to win clear of his strait?” “He should arise forthright,” answered the Cock, “and take some twigs from yon mulberry tree and give her a regular back basting and rib roasting till she cry:— I repent, O my lord! I will never ask thee a question as long as I live! Then let him beat her once more and soundly, and when he shall have done this he shall sleep free from care and enjoy life. But this master of ours owns neither sense nor judgment.” “Now, daughter Shahrazad,” continued the Wazir, “I will do to thee as did that husband to that wife.” Said Shahrazad, “And what did he do?” He replied, “When the merchant heard the wise words spoken by his Cock to his Dog, he arose in haste and sought his wife’s chamber, after cutting for her some mulberry twigs and hiding them there; and then he called to her, “Come into the closet that I may tell thee the secret while no one seeth me and then die.” She entered with him and he locked the door and came down upon her with so sound a beating of back and shoulders, ribs, arms and legs, saying the while, “Wilt thou ever be asking questions about what concerneth thee not?” that she was well nigh senseless. Presently she cried out, “I am of the repentant! By Allah, I will ask thee no more questions, and indeed I repent sincerely and wholesomely.” Then she kissed his hand and feet and he led her out of the room submissive as a wife should be. Her parents and all the company rejoiced and sadness and mourning were changed into joy and gladness. Thus the merchant learnt family discipline from his Cock and he and his wife lived together the happiest of lives until death. And thou also, O my daughter!” continued the Wazir, “Unless thou turn from this matter I will do by thee what that trader did to his wife.” But she answered him with much decision, “I will never desist, O my father, nor shall this tale change my purpose. Leave such talk and tattle. I will not listen to thy words and, if thou deny me, I will marry myself to him despite the nose of thee. And first I will go up to the King myself and alone and I will say to him:— I prayed my father to wive me with thee, but he refused being resolved to disappoint his lord, grudging the like of me to the like of thee.” Her father asked, “Must this needs be?” and she answered, “Even so.” Hereupon the Wazir being weary of lamenting and contending, persuading and dissuading her, all to no purpose, went up to King Shahryar and after blessing him and kissing the ground before him, told him all about his dispute with his daughter from first to last and how he designed to bring her to him that night. The King wondered with exceeding wonder; for he had made an especial exception of the Wazir’s daughter, and said to him, “O most faithful of Counsellors, how is this? Thou wottest that I have sworn by the Raiser of the Heavens that after I have gone in to her this night I shall say to thee on the morrow’s morning:— Take her and slay her! and, if thou slay her not, I will slay thee in her stead without fail.” “Allah guide thee to glory and lengthen thy life, O King of the age,” answered the Wazir, “it is she that hath so determined: all this have I told her and more; but she will not hearken to me and she persisteth in passing this coming night with the King’s Majesty.” So Shahryar rejoiced greatly and said, “’Tis well; go get her ready and this night bring her to me.” The Wazir returned to his daughter and reported to her the command saying, “Allah make not thy father desolate by thy loss!” But Shahrazed rejoiced with exceeding joy and got ready all she required and said to her younger sister, Dunyazad, “Note well what directions I entrust to thee! When I have gone in to the King I will send for thee and when thou comest to me and seest that he hath had his carnal will of me, do thou say to me:— O my sister, an thou be not sleepy, relate to me some new story, delectable and delightsome, the better to speed our waking hours;” and I will tell thee a tale which shall be our deliverance, if so Allah please, and which shall turn the King from his blood thirsty custom.” Dunyazad answered “With love and gladness.” So when it was night their father the Wazir carried Shahrazad to the King who was gladdened at the sight and asked, “Hast thou brought me my need?” and he answered, “I have.” But when the King took her to his bed and fell to toying with her and wished to go in to her she wept; which made him ask, “What aileth thee?” She replied, “O King of the age, I have a younger sister and fief would I take leave of her this night before I see the dawn.” So he sent at once for Dunyazad and she came and kissed the ground between his hands, when he permitted her to take her seat near the foot of the couch. Then the King arose and did away with his bride’s maidenhead and the three fell asleep. But when it was midnight Shahrazad awoke and signalled to her sister Dunyazad who sat up and said, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, recite to us some new story, delightsome and delectable, wherewith to while away the waking hours of our latter night.”17 “With joy and goodly gree,” answered Shahrazad, “if this pious and auspicious King permit me.” “Tell on,” quoth the King who chanced to be sleepless and restless and therefore was pleased with the prospect of hearing her story. So Shahrazad rejoiced; and thus, on the first night of the Thousand Nights and a Night, she began with the
1 In Egypt, etc., the bull takes the place of the Western ox. The Arab. word is “Taur” (Thaur, Saur); in old Persian “Tore” and Lat. “Taurus,” a venerable remnant of the days before the “Semitic” and “Aryan’> families of speech had split into two distinct growths. “Taur” ends in the Saxon “Steor” and the English “Steer ”
2 Arab. “Abú Yakzán” = the Wakener, because the ass brays at dawn.
3 Arab. “Tibn”; straw crushed under the sledge: the hay of Egypt, Arabia, Syria, etc. The old country custom is to pull up the corn by handfuls from the roots, leaving the land perfectly bare: hence the “plucking up” of Hebrew Holy Writ. The object is to preserve every atom of “Tibn.”
4 Arab. “Yá Aftah”: Al–Aftah is an epithet of the bull, also of the chameleon.
5 Arab. “Balíd,” a favourite Egyptianism often pleasantly confounded with “Wali” (a Santon), hence the latter comes to mean “an innocent,” a “ninny.”
6 From the Calc. Edit., Vol. 1., p. 29.
7 Arab. “Abu Yakzán” is hardly equivalent with “Père l’Eveillé.”
8 In Arab. the wa (x) is the sign of parenthesis.
9 In the nearer East the light little plough is carried afield by the bull or ass.
10 Ocymum basilicum, the “royal herb,” so much prized all over the East, especially in India, where, under the name of “Tulsi,” it is a shrub sacred to the merry god Krishna. I found the verses in a Ms. copy of The Nights.
11 Arab. “Sadaf,” the Kauri, or cowrie, brought from the Maldive and Lakdive Archipelago. The Kámús describes this “Wada’” or Concha Veneris as “a white shell (whence to “shell out”) which is taken out of the sea, the fissure of which is white like that of the date-stone. It is hung about the neck to avert the evil eye.” The pearl in Arab. is “Murwarid,” hence evidently “Margarita” and Margaris (woman’s name).
12 Arab. “Kat’a” (bit of leather): some read “Nat’a;” a leather used by way of table-cloth, and forming a bag for victuals; but it is never made of bull’s hide.
13 The older “Cadi,” a judge in religious matters. The Shuhúd, or Assessors, are officers of the Mahkamah or Kazi’s Court.
14 Of which more in a future page. He thus purified himself ceremonially before death.
15 This is Christian rather than Moslem: a favourite Maltese curse is “Yahrak Kiddisak man rabba-k!” = burn the Saint who brought thee up!
16 A popular Egyptian phrase: the dog and the cock speak like Fellahs.
17 i. e. between the last sleep and dawn when they would rise to wash and pray.
It is related, O auspicious King, that there was a merchant of the merchants who had much wealth, and business in various cities. Now on a day he mounted horse and went forth to re cover monies in certain towns, and the heat sore oppressed him; so he sat beneath a tree and, putting his hand into his saddle bags, took thence some broken bread and dry dates and began to break his fast. When he had ended eating the dates he threw away the stones with force and lo! an Ifrit appeared, huge of stature and brandishing a drawn sword, wherewith he approached the mer chant and said, “Stand up that I may slay thee, even as thou slewest my son!” Asked the merchant, “How have I slain thy son?” and he answered, “When thou atest dates and threwest away the stones they struck my son full in the breast as he was walking by, so that he died forthwith.”1 Quoth the merchant, “Verily from Allah we proceeded and unto Allah are we re turning. There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! If I slew thy son, I slew him by chance medley. I pray thee now pardon me.” Rejoined the Jinni, “There is no help but I must slay thee.” Then he seized him and dragged him along and, casting him to the earth, raised the sword to strike him; whereupon the merchant wept, and said, “I commit my case to Allah,” and began repeating these couplets:—
Containeth Time a twain of days, this of blessing that of bane
And holdeth Life a twain of halves, this of pleasure that of pain.
See’st not when blows the hurricane, sweeping stark and striking strong
None save the forest giant feels the suffering of the strain?
How many trees earth nourisheth of the dry and of the green
Yet none but those which bear the fruits for cast of stone complain.
See’st not how corpses rise and float on the surface of the tide
While pearls o’price lie hidden in the deepest of the main!
In Heaven are unnumbered the many of the stars
Yet ne’er a star but Sun and Moon by eclipse is overta’en.
Well judgedst thou the days that saw thy faring sound and well
And countedst not the pangs and pain whereof Fate is ever fain.
The nights have kept thee safe and the safety brought thee pride
But bliss and blessings of the night are ‘genderers of bane!
When the merchant ceased repeating his verses the Jinni said to him, “Cut thy words short, by Allah! needs must I slay thee.” But the merchant spake him thus, “Know, O thou Ifrit, that I have debts due to me and much wealth and children and a wife and many pledges in hand; so permit me to go home and dis charge to every claimant his claim; and I will come back to thee at the head of the new year. Allah be my testimony and surety that I will return to thee; and then thou mayest do with me as thou wilt and Allah is witness to what I say.” The Jinni took sure promise of him and let him go; so he returned to his own city and transacted his business and rendered to all men their dues and after informing his wife and children of what had betided him, he appointed a guardian and dwelt with them for a full year. Then he arose, and made the Wuzu ablution to purify himself before death and took his shroud under his arm and bade farewell to his people, his neighbours and all his kith and kin, and went forth despite his own nose.2 They then began weeping and wailing and beating their breasts over him; but he travelled until he arrived at the same garden, and the day of his arrival was the head of the New Year. As he sat weeping over what had befallen him, behold, a Shaykh,3 a very ancient man, drew near leading a chained gazelle; and he saluted that merchant and wishing him long life said, “What is the cause of thy sitting in this place and thou alone and this be a resort of evil spirits?” The merchant related to him what had come to pass with the Ifrit, and the old man, the owner of the gazelle, wondered and said, “By Allah, O brother, thy faith is none other than exceeding faith and thy story right strange; were it graven with gravers on the eye corners, it were a warner to whoso would be warned.” Then seating himself near the merchant he said, “By Allah, O my brother, I will not leave thee until I see what may come to pass with thee and this Ifrit.” And presently as he sat and the two were at talk the merchant began to feel fear and terror and exceeding grief and sorrow beyond relief and ever growing care and extreme despair. And the owner of the gazelle was hard by his side; when behold, a second Shaykh approached them, and with him were two dogs both of greyhound breed and both black. The second old man after saluting them with the salam, also asked them of their tidings and said “What causeth you to sit in this place, a dwelling of the Jann?”4 So they told him the tale from beginning to end, and their stay there had not lasted long before there came up a third Shaykh, and with him a she mule of bright bay coat; and he saluted them and asked them why they were seated in that place. So they told him the story from first to last: and of no avail, O my master, is a twice told tale! There he sat down with them, and lo! a dust cloud advanced and a mighty send devil appeared amidmost of the waste. Presently the cloud opened and behold, within it was that Jinni hending in hand a drawn sword, while his eyes were shooting fire sparks of rage. He came up to them and, haling away the merchant from among them, cried to him, “Arise that I may slay thee, as thou slewest my son, the life stuff of my liver.”5 The merchant wailed and wept, and the three old men began sighing and crying and weeping and wailing with their companion. Presently the first old man (the owner of the gazelle) came out from among them and kissed the hand of the Ifrit and said, “O Jinni, thou Crown of the Kings of the Jann! were I to tell thee the story of me and this gazelle and thou shouldst consider it wondrous wouldst thou give me a third part of this merchant’s blood?” Then quoth the Jinni “Even so, O Shaykh! if thou tell me this tale, and I hold it a marvellous, then will I give thee a third of his blood.” Thereupon the old man began to tell
1 Travellers tell of a peculiar knack of jerking the date-stone, which makes it strike with great force: I never saw this “Inwá” practised, but it reminds me of the water splashing with one hand in the German baths.
2 i.e., sorely against his will.
3 Arab. “Shaykh”=an old man (primarily), an elder, a chief (of the tribe, guild, etc.), and honourably addressed to any man. Comp. among the neo Latins “Sieur,” “Signora,” “Señor,” “Senhor,” etc. from Lat. “Senior,” which gave our “Sire” and “Sir.” Like many in Arabic the word has a host of different meanings and most of them will occur in the course of The Nights. Ibrahim (Abraham) was the first Shaykh or man who became grey. Seeing his hairs whiten he cried, “O Allah what is this?” and the answer came that it was a sign of dignified gravity. Hereupon he exclaimed, “O Lord increase this to me!” and so it happened till his locks waxed snowy white at the age of one hundred and fifty. He was the first who parted his hair, trimmed his mustachios, cleaned his teeth with the Miswák (tooth-stick), pared his nails, shaved his pecten, snuffed up water, used ablution after stool and wore a shirt (Tabari).
4 The word is mostly plural = Jinnís: it is also singular = a demon; and Ján bin Ján has been noticed.
5 With us moderns “liver” suggests nothing but malady: in Arabic and Persian as in the classic literature of Europe it is the seat of passion, the heart being that of affection. Of this more presently.
Know O Jinni! that this gazelle is the daughter of my paternal uncle, my own flesh and blood, and I married her when she was a young maid, and I lived with her well nigh thirty years, yet was I not blessed with issue by her. So I took me a concubine1 who brought to me the boon of a male child fair as the full moon, with eyes of lovely shine and eyebrows which formed one line, and limbs of perfect design. Little by little he grew in stature and waxed tall; and when he was a lad fifteen years old, it became needful I should journey to certain cities and I travelled with great store of goods. But the daughter of my uncle (this gazelle) had learned gramarye and egromancy and clerkly craft2 from her childhood; so she bewitched that son of mine to a calf, and my handmaid (his mother) to a heifer, and made them over to the herdsman’s care. Now when I returned after a long time from my journey and asked for my son and his mother, she answered me, saying “Thy slave girl is dead, and thy son hath fled and I know not whither he is sped.” So I remained for a whole year with grieving heart, and streaming eyes until the time came for the Great Festival of Allah.3 Then sent I to my herdsman bid ding him choose for me a fat heifer; and he brought me one which was the damsel, my handmaid, whom this gazelle had ensorcelled. I tucked up my sleeves and skirt and, taking a knife, proceeded to cut her throat, but she lowed aloud and wept bitter tears. Thereat I marvelled and pity seized me and I held my hand, saying to the herd, “Bring me other than this.” Then cried my cousin, “Slay her, for I have not a fatter nor a fairer!” Once more I went forward to sacrifice her, but she again lowed aloud upon which in ruth I refrained and commanded the herdsman to slay her and flay her. He killed her and skinned her but found in her neither fat nor flesh, only hide and bone; and I repented when penitence availed me naught. I gave her to the herdsman and said to him, “Fetch me a fat calf;” so he brought my son ensorcelled. When the calf saw me, he brake his tether and ran to me, and fawned upon me and wailed and shed tears; so that I took pity on him and said to the herdsman, “Bring me a heifer and let this calf go!” Thereupon my cousin (this gazelle) called aloud at me, saying, “Needs must thou kill this calf; this is a holy day and a blessed, whereon naught is slain save what be perfect pure; and we have not amongst our calves any fatter or fairer than this!” Quoth I, “Look thou upon the condition of the heifer which I slaughtered at thy bidding and how we turn from her in disappointment and she profited us on no wise; and I repent with an exceeding repentance of having killed her: so this time I will not obey thy bidding for the sacrifice of this calf.” Quoth she, “By Allah the Most Great, the Compassionating, the Compassionate! there is no help for it; thou must kill him on this holy day, and if thou kill him not to me thou art no man and I to thee am no wife.” Now when I heard those hard words, not knowing her object I went up to the calf, knife in hand — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.4 Then quoth her sister to her, “How fair is thy tale, and how grateful, and how sweet and how tasteful!” And Shahrazad answered her, “What is this to that I could tell thee on the coming night, were I to live and the King would spare me?” Then said the King in himself, “By Allah, I will not slay her, until I shall have heard the rest of her tale.” So they slept the rest of that night in mutual em brace till day fully brake. Then the King went forth to his audience hall5 and the Wazir went up with his daughter’s shroud under his arm. The King issued his orders, and promoted this and deposed that, until the end of the day; and he told the Wazir no whit of what had happened. But the Minister wondered thereat with exceeding wonder; and when the Court broke up King Shahryar entered his palace.
1 Originally in Al–Islam the concubine (Surriyat, etc.) was a captive taken in war and the Koran says nothing about buying slave-girls. But if the captives were true believers the Moslem was ordered to marry not to keep them. In modern days concubinage has become an extensive subject. Practically the disadvantage is that the slave-girls, knowing themselves to be the master’s property, consider him bound to sleep with them; which is by no means the mistress’s view. Some wives, however, when old and childless, insist, after the fashion of Sarah, upon the husband taking a young concubine and treating her like a daughter — which is rare. The Nights abound in tales of concubines, but these are chiefly owned by the Caliphs and high officials who did much as they pleased. The only redeeming point in the system is that it obviated the necessity of prostitution which is, perhaps, the greatest evil known to modern society.
2 Arab. “Al–Kahánah”=the craft of a “Káhin” (Heb. Cohen) a diviner, soothsayer, etc.
3 Arab. “Id al-kabír = The Great Festival; the Turkish Bayrám and Indian Bakar-eed (Kine-fête), the pilgrimage-time, also termed “Festival of the Kurbán” (sacrifice) because victims are slain, Al–Zuha (of Undurn or forenoon), Al–Azhá (of serene night) and Al–Nahr (of throat-cutting). For full details I must refer readers to my “Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El–Medinah and Meccah” (3 vols. 8vo, London, Longmans, 1855). I shall have often to refer to it.
4 Arab. “Kalám al-mubáh,” i.e., that allowed or permitted to her by the King, her husband.
5 Moslem Kings are expected, like the old Gabble Monarchs, to hold “Darbar” (i.e., give public audience) at least twice a day, morning and evening. Neglect of this practice caused the ruin of the Caliphate and of the Persian and Moghul Empires: the great lords were left uncontrolled and the lieges revolted to obtain justice. The Guebre Kings had two levée places, the Rozistan (day station) and the Shabistan (night-station — istán or stán being a nominal form of istádan, to stand, as Hindo-stán). Moreover one day in the week the sovereign acted as “Mufti” or Supreme Judge.
said Dunyazad to her sister Shahrazad, “O my sister, finish for us that story of the Merchant and the Jinni;” and she answered “With joy and goodly gree, if the King permit me.” Then quoth the King, “Tell thy tale;” and Shahrazad began in these words: It hath reached me, O auspicious King and Heaven directed Ruler! that when the merchant purposed the sacrifice of the calf but saw it weeping, his heart relented and he said to the herdsman, “Keep the calf among my cattle.” All this the old Shaykh told the Jinni who marvelled much at these strange words. Then the owner of the gazelle continued:— O Lord of the Kings of the Jann, this much took place and my uncle’s daughter, this gazelle, looked on and saw it, and said, “Butcher me this calf, for surely it is a fat one;” but I bade the herdsman take it away and he took it and turned his face homewards. On the next day as I was sitting in my own house, lo! the herdsman came and, standing before me said, “O my master, I will tell thee a thing which shall gladden thy soul, and shall gain me the gift of good tidings.”1 I answered, “Even so.” Then said he, “O merchant, I have a daughter, and she learned magic in her childhood from an old woman who lived with us. Yesterday when thou gayest me the calf, I went into the house to her, and she looked upon it and veiled her face; then she wept and laughed alternately and at last she said:— O my father, hath mine honour become so cheap to thee that thou bringest in to me strange men? I asked her:— Where be these strange men and why west thou laughing, and crying?; and she answered, Of a truth this calf which is with thee is the son of our master, the merchant; but he is ensorcelled by his stepdame who bewitched both him and his mother: such is the cause of my laughing; now the reason of his weeping is his mother, for that his father slew her unawares. Then I marvelled at this with exceeding marvel and hardly made sure that day had dawned before I came to tell thee.” When I heard, O Jinni, my herdsman’s words, I went out with him, and I was drunken without wine, from the excess of joy and gladness which came upon me, until I reached his house. There his daughter welcomed me and kissed my hand, and forthwith the calf came and fawned upon me as before. Quoth I to the herdsman’s daughter, “Is this true that thou sayest of this calf?” Quoth she, “Yea, O my master, he is thy son, the very core of thy heart.” I rejoiced and said to her, “O maiden, if thou wilt release him thine shall be whatever cattle and property of mine are under thy father’s hand.” She smiled and answered, “O my master, I have no greed for the goods nor will I take them save on two conditions; the first that thou marry me to thy son and the second that I may be witch her who bewitched him and imprison her, otherwise I cannot be safe from her malice and malpractices.” Now when I heard, O Jinni, these, the words of the herdsman’s daughter, I replied, “Beside what thou askest all the cattle and the house hold stuff in thy father’s charge are thine and, as for the daughter of my uncle, her blood is lawful to thee.” When I had spoken, she took a cup and filled it with water: then she recited a spell over it and sprinkled it upon the calf, saying, “If Almighty Allah created thee a calf, remain so shaped, and change not; but if thou be enchanted, return to thy whilom form, by command of Allah Most Highest!” and lo! he trembled and became a man. Then I fell on his neck and said, “Allah upon thee, tell me all that the daughter of my uncle did by thee and by thy mother.” And when he told me what had come to pass between them I said, “ O my son, Allah favoured thee with one to restore thee, and thy right hath returned to thee.” Then, O Jinni, I married the herdsman’s daughter to him, and she transformed my wife into this gazelle, saying:— Her shape is a comely and by no means loathsome. After this she abode with us night and day, day and night, till the Almighty took her to Himself. When she deceased, my son fared forth to the cities of Hind, even to the city of this man who hath done to thee what hath been done;2 and I also took this gazelle (my cousin) and wandered with her from town to town seeking tidings of my son, till Destiny drove me to this place where I saw the merchant sitting in tears. Such is my tale! Quoth the Jinni, “This story is indeed strange, and therefore I grant thee the third part of his blood.” There upon the second old man, who owned the two greyhounds, came up and said, “ O Jinni, if I recount to thee what befel me from my brothers, these two hounds, and thou see that it is a tale even more wondrous and marvellous than what thou hast heard, wilt thou grant to me also the third of this man’s blood?” Replied the Jinni, “Thou hast my word for it, if thine adventures be more marvellous and wondrous.” Thereupon he thus began
1 Arab. “Al–Bashárah,” the gift everywhere claimed in the East and in Boccaccio’s Italy by one who brings good news. Those who do the reverse expose themselves to a sound strappado.
2 A euphemistic formula, to avoid mentioning unpleasant matters. I shall note these for the benefit of students who would honestly prepare for the public service in Moslem lands.
Know, O lord of the Kings of the Jann! that these two dogs are my brothers and I am the third. Now when our father died and left us a capital of three thousand gold pieces,1 I opened a shop with my share, and bought and sold therein, and in like guise did my two brothers, each setting up a shop. But I had been in business no long while before the elder sold his stock for a thousand diners, and after buying outfit and merchandise, went his ways to foreign parts. He was absent one whole year with the caravan; but one day as I sat in my shop, behold, a beggar stood before me asking alms, and I said to him, “Allah open thee another door!”2 Whereupon he answered, weeping the while, “Am I so changed that thou knowest me not?” Then I looked at him narrowly, and lo! it was my brother, so I rose to him and welcomed him; then I seated him in my shop and put questions concerning his case. “Ask me not,” answered he; “my wealth is awaste and my state hath waxed un stated!” So I took him to the Hammam bath3 and clad him in a suit of my own and gave him lodging in my house. Moreover, after looking over the accounts of my stock in trade and the profits of my business, I found that industry had gained me one thousand diners, while my principal, the head of my wealth, amounted to two thousand. So I shared the whole with him saying, “Assume that thou hast made no journey abroad but hast remained at home; and be not cast down by thine ill luck.” He took the share in great glee and opened for himself a shop; and matters went on quietly for a few nights and days. But presently my second brother (yon other dog), also setting his heart upon travel, sold off what goods and stock in trade he had, and albeit we tried to stay him he would not be stayed: he laid in an outfit for the journey and fared forth with certain wayfarers. After an absence of a whole year he came back to me, even as my elder brother had come back; and when I said to him, “O my brother, did I not dissuade thee from travel?” he shed tears and cried, “O my brother, this be destiny’s decree: here I am a mere beggar, penniless4 and without a shirt to my back.” So I led him to the bath, O Jinni, and clothing him in new clothes of my own wear, I went with him to my shop and served him with meat and drink. Furthermore I said to him, “O my brother, I am wont to cast up my shop accounts at the head of every year, and whatso I shall find of surplusage is between me and thee.”5 So I proceeded, O Ifrit, to strike a balance and, finding two thousand diners of profit, I returned praises to the Creator (be He extolled and exalted!) and made over one half to my brother, keeping the other to my self. Thereupon he busied himself with opening a shop and on this wise we abode many days. After a time my brothers began pressing me to travel with them; but I refused saying, “What gained ye by travel voyage that I should gain thereby?” As I would not give ear to them we went back each to his own shop where we bought and sold as before. They kept urging me to travel for a whole twelvemonth, but I refused to do so till full six years were past and gone when I consented with these words, “O my brothers, here am I, your companion of travel: now let me see what monies you have by you.” I found, however, that they had not a doit, having squandered their substance in high diet and drinking and carnal delights. Yet I spoke not a word of reproach; so far from it I looked over my shop accounts once more, and sold what goods and stock in trade were mine; and, finding myself the owner of six thousand ducats, I gladly proceeded to divide that sum in halves, saying to my brothers, “These three thousand gold pieces are for me and for you to trade withal,” adding, “Let us bury the other moiety underground that it may be of service in case any harm befal us, in which case each shall take a thousand wherewith to open shops.” Both replied, “Right is thy recking;” and I gave to each one his thousand gold pieces, keeping the same sum for myself, to wit, a thousand diners. We then got ready suitable goods and hired a ship and, having embarked our merchandise, proceeded on our voyage, day following day, a full month, after which we arrived at a city, where we sold our venture; and for every piece of gold we gained ten. And as we turned again to our voyage we found on the shore of the sea a maiden clad in worn and ragged gear, and she kissed my hand and said, “O master, is there kindness in thee and charity? I can make thee a fitting return for them.” I answered, “Even so; truly in me are benevolence and good works, even though thou render me no return.” Then she said, “Take me to wife, O my master, and carry me to thy city, for I have given myself to thee; so do me a kindness and I am of those who be meet for good works and charity: I will make thee a fitting return for these and be thou not shamed by my condition.” When I heard her words, my heart yearned towards her, in such sort as willed it Allah (be He extolled and exalted!); and took her and clothed her and made ready for her a fair resting place in the vessel, and honourably entreated her. So we voyaged on, and my heart became attached to her with exceeding attachment, and I was separated from her neither night nor day, and I paid more regard to her than to my brothers. Then they were es banged from me, and waxed jealous of my wealth and the quantity of merchandise I had, and their eyes were opened covetously upon all my property. So they took counsel to murder me and seize my wealth, saying, “Let us slay our brother and all his monies will be ours;” and Satan made this deed seem fair in their sight; so when they found me in privacy (and I sleeping by my wife’s side) they took us both up and cast us into the sea. My wife awoke startled from her sleep and, forthright be coming an Ifritah,6 she bore me up and carried me to an island and disappeared for a short time; but she returned in the morning and said, “Here am I, thy faithful slave, who hath made thee due recompense; for I bore thee up in the waters and saved thee from death by command of the Almighty. Know — that I am a Jinniyah, and as I saw thee my heart loved thee by will of the Lord, for I am a believer in Allah and in His Apostle (whom Heaven bless and preserve!). Thereupon I came to thee conditioned as thou sawest me and thou didst marry me, and see now I have saved thee from sinking. But I am angered against thy brothers and assuredly I must slay them.” When I heard her story I was surprised and, thanking her for all she had done, I said, “But as to slaying my brothers this must not be.” Then I told her the tale of what had come to pass with them from the beginning of our lives to the end, and on hearing it quoth she, “This night will I fly as a bird over them and will sink their ship and slay them.” Quoth I, “Allah upon thee, do not thus, for the proverb saith, O thou who doest good to him that cloth evil, leave the evil doer to his evil deeds. Moreover they are still my brothers.” But she rejoined, “By Allah, there is no help for it but I slay them.” I humbled myself before her for their pardon, whereupon she bore me up and flew away with me till at last she set me down on the terrace roof of my own house. I opened the doors and took up what I had hidden in the ground; and after I had saluted the folk I opened my shop and bought me merchan disc. Now when night came on I went home, and there I saw these two hounds tied up; and, when they sighted me, they arose and whined and fawned upon me; but ere I knew what happened my wife said, “These two dogs be thy brothers!” I answered, “And who hath done this thing by them?” and she rejoined, “I sent a message to my sister and she entreated them on this wise, nor shall these two be released from their present shape till ten years shall have passed.” And now I have arrived at this place on my way to my wife’s sister that she may deliver them from this condition, after their having endured it for half a score of years. As I was wending onwards I saw this young man, who acquainted me with what had befallen him, and I determined not to fare hence until I should see what might occur between thee and him. Such is my tale! Then said the Jinni, “Surely this is a strange story and therefor I give thee the third portion of his blood and his crime.” Thereupon quoth the third Shaykh, the master of the mare mule, to the Jinni, “I can tell thee a tale more wondrous than these two, so thou grant me the remainder of his blood and of his offense,” and the Jinni answered, “So be it!” Then the old man began
1 Arab. “Dínár,” from the Latin denarius (a silver coin worth ten ounces of brass) through the Greek {Greek Letters}: it is a Koranic word (chaps. iii.) though its Arab equivalent is “Miskál.” It also occurs in the Kathá before quoted, clearly showing the derivation. In the “Book of Kalilah and Dimnah” it is represented by the Daric or Persian Dinár, {Greek Letters}, from Dárá= a King (whence Darius). The Dinar, sequin or ducat, contained at different times from 10 and 12 (Abu Hanifah’s day) to 20 and even 25 dirhams or drachmas, and, as a weight, represented a drachma and a half. Its value greatly varied, but we may assume it here at nine shillings or ten francs to half a sovereign. For an elaborate article on the Dinar see Yule’s “Cathay and the Way Thither” (ii., pp. 439–443).
2 The formula used in refusing alms to an “asker” or in rejecting an insufficient offer: “Allah will open to thee!” (some door of gain — not mine)! Another favourite ejaculation is “Allah Karim” (which Turks pronounce “Kyereem”) = Allah is All-beneficent! meaning Ask Him, not me.
3 The public bath. London knows the word through “The Hummums.”
4 Arab. “Dirham” (Plur. diráhim, also used in the sense of money, “siller”), the drachuma of Plautus (Trin. 2, 4, 23). The word occurs in the Panchatantra also showing the derivation; and in the Syriac Kalilah wa Dimnah it is “Zúz.” This silver piece was = 6 obols (9 3/4d.) and as a weight = 66 1/2 grains. The Dirham of The Nights was worth six “Dánik,” each of these being a fraction over a penny. The modern Greek Drachma is=one franc.
5 In Arabic the speaker always puts himself first, even if he address the King, without intending incivility.
6 A she-Ifrit, not necessarily an evil spirit.
Know, O Sultan and head of the Jann, that this mule was my wife. Now it so happened that I went forth and was absent one whole year; and when I returned from my journey I came to her by night, and saw a black slave lying with her on the carpet bed and they were talking, and dallying, and laughing, and kissing and playing the close buttock game. When she saw me, she rose and came hurriedly at me with a gugglet1 of water; and, muttering spells over it, she besprinkled me and said, “Come forth from this thy shape into the shape of a dog;” and I became on the instant a dog. She drove me out of the house, and I ran through the doorway nor ceased running until I came to a butcher’s stall, where I stopped and began to eat what bones were there. When the stall owner saw me, he took me and led me into his house, but as soon as his daughter had sight of me she veiled her face from me, crying out, “Doss thou bring men to me and cost thou come in with them to me?” Her father asked, “Where is the man?”; and she answered, “This dog is a man whom his wife hath ensorcelled and I am able to release him.” When her father heard her words, he said, “Allah upon thee, O my daughter, release him.” So she took a gugglet of water and, after uttering words over it, sprinkled upon me a few drops, saying, “Come forth from that form into thy former form.” And I returned to my natural shape. Then I kissed her hand and said, “I wish thou wouldest transform my wife even as she bans formed me.” Thereupon she gave me some water, saying, “As soon as thou see her asleep, sprinkle this liquid upon her and speak what words thou heardest me utter, so shall she become whatsoever thou desirest.” I went to my wife and found her fast asleep; and, while sprinkling the water upon her, I said, “Come forth from that form into the form of a mare mule.” So she became on the instant a she mule, and she it is whom thou seest with thine eyes, O Sultan and head of the Kings of the Jann! Then the Jinni turned towards her and said, “Is this sooth?” And she nodded her head and replied by signs, “In deed, ’tis the truth: for such is my tale and this is what hath be fallen me.” Now when the old man had ceased speaking the Jinni shook with pleasure and gave him the third of the mer chant’s blood. And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth Dunyazad, “O. my sister, how pleasant is thy tale, and how tasteful; how sweet and how grateful!” She replied, “And what is this com pared with that I could tell thee, the night to come, if I live and the King spare me?”2 Then thought the King, “By Allah, I will not slay her until I hear the rest of her tale, for truly it is wondrous.” So they rested that night in mutual embrace until the dawn. After this the King went forth to his Hall of Estate, and the Wazir and the troops came in and the court was crowded, and the King gave orders and judged and appointed and deposed, bidding and forbidding during the rest of the day. Then the Divan broke up, and King Shahryar entered his palace.
1 Arab. “Kullah” (in Egypt pron. “gulleh”), the wide mouthed jug, called in the Hijaz “baradlyah,” “daurak” being the narrow. They are used either for water or sherbet and, being made of porous clay, “sweat,” and keep the contents cool; hence all old Anglo Egyptians drink from them, not from bottles. Sometimes they are perfumed with smoke of incense, mastich or Kafal (Amyris Kafal). For their graceful shapes see Lane’s “Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians” (chaps. v) I quote, here and elsewhere, from the fifth edition, London, Murray, 1860.
2 “And what is?” etc. A popular way of expressing great difference. So in India:— “Where is Rajah Bhoj (the great King) and where is Gangá the oilman?”
And the King had had his will of the Wazir’s daughter, Dunyazad, her sister, said to her, “Finish for us that tale of thine;” and she replied, “With joy and goodly gree! It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the third old man told a tale to the Jinni more wondrous than the two preceding, the Jinni marveiled with exceeding marvel, and, shaking with delight, cried, Lo! I have given thee the remainder of the merchant’s punishment and for thy sake have I released him.” Thereupon the merchant embraced the old men and thanked them, and these Shaykhs wished him joy on being saved and fared forth each one for his own city. Yet this tale is not more wondrous than the fisherman’s story.” Asked the King, “What is the fisherman’s story?” And she answered by relating the tale of
It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that there was a Fisher man well stricken in years who had a wife and three children, and withal was of poor condition. Now it was his custom to cast his net every day four times, and no more. On a day he went forth about noontide to the sea shore, where he laid down his basket; and, tucking up his shirt and plunging into the water, made a cast with his net and waited till it settled to the bottom. Then he gathered the cords together and haled away at it, but found it weighty; and however much he drew it landwards, he could not pull it up; so he carried the ends ashore and drove a stake into the ground and made the net fast to it. Then he stripped and dived into the water all about the net, and left not off working hard until he had brought it up. He rejoiced thereat and, donning his clothes, went to the net, when he found in it a dead jackass which had torn the meshes. Now when he saw it, he exclaimed in his grief, “There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great!” Then quoth he, “This is a strange manner of daily bread;” and he began re citing in extempore verse:—
O toiler through the glooms of night in peril and in pain
Thy toiling stint for daily bread comes not by might and main!
Seest thou not the fisher seek afloat upon the sea
His bread, while glimmer stars of night as set in tangled skein.
Anon he plungeth in despite the buffet of the waves
The while to sight the bellying net his eager glances strain;
Till joying at the night’s success, a fish he bringeth home
Whose gullet by the hook of Fate was caught and cut in twain.
When buys that fish of him a man who spent the hours of night
Reckless of cold and wet and gloom in ease and comfort fain,
Laud to the Lord who gives to this, to that denies his wishes
And dooms one toil and catch the prey and other eat the fishes.1
Then quoth he, “Up and to it; I am sure of His beneficence, Inshallah!” So he continued:—
When thou art seized of Evil Fate, assume
The noble soul’s long suffering: ’tis thy best:
Complain not to the creature; this be plaint
From one most Ruthful to the ruthlessest.
The Fisherman, when he had looked at the dead ass, got it free of the toils and wrung out and spread his net; then he plunged into the sea, saying, “In Allah’s name!” and made a cast and pulled at it, but it grew heavy and settled down more firmly than the first time. Now he thought that there were fish in it, and he made it fast, and doffing his clothes went into the water, and dived and haled until he drew it up upon dry land. Then found he in it a large earthen pitcher which was full of sand and mud; and seeing this he was greatly troubled and began repeating these verses2:—
Forbear, O troubles of the world,
And pardon an ye nill forbear:
I went to seek my daily bread
I find that breadless I must fare:
For neither handcraft brings me aught
Nor Fate allots to me a share:
How many fools the Pleiads reach
While darkness whelms the wise and ware.
So he prayed pardon of Allah and, throwing away the jar, wrung his net and cleansed it and returned to the sea the third time to cast his net and waited till it had sunk. Then he pulled at it and found therein potsherds and broken glass; whereupon he began to speak these verses:—
He is to thee that daily bread thou canst nor loose nor bind
Nor pen nor writ avail thee aught thy daily bread to find:
For joy and daily bread are what Fate deigneth to allow;
This soil is sad and sterile ground, while that makes glad the hind.
The shafts of Time and Life bear down full many a man of worth
While bearing up to high degree wights of ignoble mind.
So come thou, Death! for verily life is not worth a straw
When low the falcon falls withal the mallard wings the wind:
No wonder ’tis thou seest how the great of soul and mind
Are poor, and many a loser carle to height of luck designed.
This bird shall overfly the world from east to furthest west
And that shall win her every wish though ne’er she leave the nest.
Then raising his eyes heavenwards he said, “O my God!3 verily Thou wottest that I cast not my net each day save four times4; the third is done and as yet Thou hast vouchsafed me nothing. So this time, O my God, deign give me my daily bread.” Then, having called on Allah’s name,5 he again threw his net and waited its sinking and settling; whereupon he haled at it but could not draw it in for that it was entangled at the bottom. He cried out in his vexation “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!” and he began reciting:—
Fie on this wretched world, an so it be
I must be whelmed by grief and misery:
Tho’ gladsome be man’s lot when dawns the morn
He drains the cup of woe ere eve he see:
Yet was I one of whom the world when asked
“Whose lot is happiest?” oft would say “’Tis he!”
Thereupon he stripped and, diving down to the net, busied him self with it till it came to land. Then he opened the meshes and found therein a cucumber shaped jar of yellow copper,6 evidently full of something, whose mouth was made fast with a leaden cap, stamped with the seal ring of our Lord Sulayman son of David (Allah accept the twain!). Seeing this the Fisherman rejoiced and said, “If I sell it in the brass bazar ’tis worth ten golden diners.” He shook it and finding it heavy continued, “Would to Heaven I knew what is herein. But I must and will open it and look to its contents and store it in my bag and sell it in the brass market.” And taking out a knife he worked at the lead till he had loosened it from the jar; then he laid the cup on the ground and shook the vase to pour out whatever might be inside. He found nothing in it; whereat he marvelled with an exceeding marvel. But presently there came forth from the jar a smoke which spired heavenwards into aether (whereat he again marvelled with mighty marvel), and which trailed along earth’s surface till presently, having reached its full height, the thick vapour condensed, and became an Ifrit, huge of bulk, whose crest touched the clouds while his feet were on the ground. His head was as a dome, his hands like pitchforks, his legs long as masts and his mouth big as a cave; his teeth were like large stones, his nostrils ewers, his eyes two lamps and his look was fierce and lowering. Now when the Fisherman saw the Ifrit his side muscles quivered, his teeth chattered, his spittle dried up and he became blind about what to do. Upon this the Ifrit looked at him and cried, “There is no god but the God, and Sulayman is the prophet of God;” presently adding, “O Apostle of Allah, slay me not; never again will I gainsay thee in word nor sin against thee in deed.”7 Quoth the Fisherman, “O Marid,8 diddest thou say, Sulayman the Apostle of Allah; and Sulayman is dead some thousand and eight hundred years ago,9 and we are now in the last days of the world! What is thy story, and what is thy account of thyself, and what is the cause of thy entering into this cucurbit?” Now when the Evil Spirit heard the words of the Fisherman, quoth he; “There is no god but the God: be of good cheer, O Fisherman!” Quoth the Fisherman, “Why biddest thou me to be of good cheer?” and he replied, “Because of thy having to die an ill death in this very hour.” Said the Fisherman, “Thou deservest for thy good tidings the withdrawal of Heaven’s protection, O thou distant one!10 Wherefore shouldest thou kill me and what thing have I done to deserve death, I who freed thee from the jar, and saved thee from the depths of the sea, and brought thee up on the dry land?” Replied the Ifrit, “Ask of me only what mode of death thou wilt die, and by what manner of slaughter shall I slay thee.” Rejoined the Fisherman, “What is my crime and wherefore such retribution?” Quoth the Ifrit, “Hear my story, O Fisherman!” and he answered, “Say on, and be brief in thy saying, for of very sooth my life breath is my nostrils.”11 Thereupon quoth the Jinni, “Know, that I am one among the heretical Jann and I sinned against Sulayman, David son (on the twain be peace!) I together with the famous Sakhr al Jinni;”12 whereupon the Prophet sent his minister, Asaf son of Barkhiya, to seize me; and this Wazir brought me against my will and led me in bonds to him (I being downcast despite my nose) and he placed me standing before him like a suppliant. When Sulayman saw me, he took refuge with Allah and bade me embrace the True Faith and obey his behests; but I refused, so sending for this cucurbit13 he shut me up therein, and stopped it over with lead whereon he impressed the Most High Name, and gave his orders to the Jann who carried me off, and cast me into the midmost of the ocean. There I abode an hundred years, during which I said in my heart, “Whoso shall release me, him will I enrich for ever and ever.” But the full century went by and, when no one set me free, I entered upon the second five score saying, “Whoso shall release me, for him I will open the hoards of the earth.” Still no one set me free and thus four hundred years passed away. Then quoth I, “Whoso shall release me, for him will I fulfil three wishes.” Yet no one set me free. Thereupon I waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and said to myself, “Whoso shall release me from this time forth, him will I slay and I will give him choice of what death he will die; and now, as thou hast released me, I give thee full choice of deaths.” The Fisherman, hearing the words of the Ifrit, said, “O Allah! the wonder of it that I have not come to free thee save in these days!” adding, “Spare my life, so Allah spare thine; and slay me not, lest Allah set one to slay thee.” Replied the Contumacious One, “There is no help for it; die thou must; so ask me by way of boon what manner of death thou wilt die.” Albeit thus certified the Fisherman again addressed the Ifrit saying, “Forgive me this my death as a generous reward for having freed thee;” and the Ifrit, “Surely I would not slay thee save on account of that same release.” “O Chief of the Ifrits,” said the Fisherman, “I do thee good and thou requitest me with evil! in very sooth the old saw lieth not when it saith:—
We wrought them weal, they met our weal with ill;
Such, by my life! is every bad man’s labour:
To him who benefits unworthy wights
Shall hap what inapt to Ummi Amir’s neighbor.14”
Now when the Ifrit heard these words he answered, “No more of this talk, needs must I kill thee.” Upon this the Fisherman said to himself, “This is a Jinni; and I am a man to whom Allah hath given a passably cunning wit, so I will now cast about to com pass his destruction by my contrivance and by mine intelligence; even as he took counsel only of his malice and his frowardness.”15 He began by asking the Ifrit, “Hast thou indeed resolved to kill me?” and, receiving for all answer, “Even so,” he cried, “Now in the Most Great Name, graven on the seal ring of Sulayman the Son of David (peace be with the holy twain!), an I question thee on a certain matter wilt thou give me a true answer?” The Ifrit replied “Yea;” but, hearing mention of the Most Great Name, his wits were troubled and he said with trembling, “Ask and be brief.” Quoth the Fisherman, “How didst thou fit into this bottle which would not hold thy hand; no, nor even thy foot, and how came it to be large enough to contain the whole of thee?” Replied the Ifrit, “What! cost not believe that I was all there?” and the Fisherman rejoined, “Nay! I will never believe it until I see thee inside with my own eyes.” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Here, as in other places, I have not preserved the monorhyme, but have ended like the English sonnet with a couplet; as a rule the last two lines contain a “Husn makta’” or climax.
2 Lit. “he began to say (or speak) poetry,” such improvising being still common amongst the Badawin as I shall afterwards note. And although Mohammed severely censured profane poets, who “rove as bereft of their senses through every valley” and were directly inspired by devils (Koran xxvi.), it is not a little curious to note that he himself spoke in “Rajaz” (which see) and that the four first Caliphs all “spoke poetry.” In early ages the verse would not be written, if written at all, till after the maker’s death. I translate “inshád” by “versifying” or “repeating” or “reciting,” leaving it doubtful if the composition be or be not original. In places, however, it is clearly improvised and then as a rule it is model doggrel.
3 Arab. “Allahumma”=Yá Allah (O Allah) but with emphasis the Fath being a substitute for the voc. part. Some connect it with the Heb. “Alihím,” but that fancy is not Arab. In Al–Hariri and the rhetoricians it sometimes means to be sure; of course; unless indeed; unless possibly.
4 Probably in consequence of a vow. These superstitious practices, which have many a parallel amongst ourselves, are not confined to the lower orders in the East.
5 i.e., saying “Bismillah!” the pious ejaculation which should precede every act. In Boccaccio (viii., 9) it is “remembering Iddio e’ Santi.”
6 Arab. Nahás asfar = brass, opposed to “Nahás” and “Nahás ahmar,” = copper.
7 This alludes to the legend of Sakhr al-Jinn), a famous fiend cast by Solomon David son into Lake Tiberias whose storms make it a suitable place. Hence the “Bottle imp,” a world-wide fiction of folk-lore: we shall find it in the “Book of Sindibad,” and I need hardly remind the reader of Le Sage’s “Diable Boiteux,” borrowed from “El Diablo Cojuelo,” the Spanish novel by Luiz Velez de Guevara.
8 Márid (lit. “contumacious” from the Heb. root Marad to rebel, whence “Nimrod” in late Semitic) is one of the tribes of the Jinn, generally but not always hostile to man. His female is “Máridah.”
9 As Solomon began to reign (according to vulgar chronometry) in B.C. 1015, the text would place the tale circ. A.D. 785, = A.H. 169. But we can lay no stress on this date which may be merely fanciful. Professor Tawney very justly compares this Moslem Solomon with the Hindu King, Vikramáditya, who ruled over the seven divisions of the world and who had as many devils to serve him as he wanted.
10 Arab. “Yá Ba’íd:” a euphemism here adopted to prevent using grossly abusive language. Others will occur in the course of these pages.
11 i. e. about to fly out; “My heart is in my mouth.” The Fisherman speaks with the dry humour of a Fellah.
12 “Sulayman,” when going out to ease himself, entrusted his seal-ring upon which his kingdom depended to a concubine “Amínah” (the “Faithful”), when Sakhr, transformed to the King’s likeness, came in and took it. The prophet was reduced to beggary, but after forty days the demon fled throwing into the sea the ring which was swallowed by a fish and eventually returned to Sulayman. This Talmudic fable is hinted at in the Koran (chaps. xxxviii.), and commentators have extensively embroidered it. Asaf, son of Barkhiya, was Wazir to Sulayman and is supposed to be the “one with whom was the knowledge of the Scriptures” (Koran, chaps. xxxvii.), i.e. who knew the Ineffable Name of Allah. See the manifest descendant of the Talmudic Koranic fiction in the “Tale of the Emperor Jovinian” (No. lix.) of the Gesta Romanorum, the most popular book of mediæval Europe composed in England (or Germany) about the end of the thirteenth century.
13 Arab. “Kumkam,” a gourd-shaped bottle of metal, china or glass, still used for sprinkling scents. Lane gives an illustration (chaps. viii., Mod. Egypt.).
14 Arab. meaning “the Mother of Amir,” a nickname for the hyena, which bites the hand that feeds it.
15 The intellect of man is stronger than that of the Jinni; the Ifrit, however, enters the jar because he has been adjured by the Most Great Name and not from mere stupidity. The seal-ring of Solomon according to the Rabbis contained a chased stone which told him everything he wanted to know.
Her sister said to her, “Please finish us this tale, an thou be not sleepy!” so she resumed:— It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Fisherman said to the Ifrit, “I will never and nowise believe thee until I see thee inside it with mine own eyes;” the Evil Spirit on the instant shook1 and became a vapour, which condensed, and entered the jar little and little, till all was well inside when lo! the Fisherman in hot haste took the leaden cap with the seal and stoppered therewith the mouth of the jar and called out to the Ifrit, saying, “Ask me by way of boon what death thou wilt die! By Allah, I will throw thee into the sea2 be fore us and here will I build me a lodge; and whoso cometh hither I will warn him against fishing and will say:— In these waters abideth an Ifrit who giveth as a last favour a choice of deaths and fashion of slaughter to the man who saveth him!” Now when the Ifrit heard this from the Fisherman and saw him self in limbo, he was minded to escape, but this was prevented by Solomon’s seal; so he knew that the Fisherman had cozened and outwitted him, and he waxed lowly and submissive and began humbly to say, “I did but jest with thee.” But the other an swered, “Thou liest, O vilest of the Ifrits, and meanest and filthiest!” and he set off with the bottle for the sea side; the Ifrit calling out “Nay! Nay!” and he calling out “Aye! Aye!” There upon the Evil Spirit softened his voice and smoothed his speech and abased himself, saying, “What wouldest thou do with me, O Fisherman?” “I will throw thee back into the sea,” he answered; “where thou hast been housed and homed for a thousand and eight hundred years; and now I will leave thee therein till Judgment day: did I not say to thee:— Spare me and Allah shall spare thee; and slay me not lest Allah slay thee? yet thou spurn east my supplication and hadst no intention save to deal un graciously by me, and Allah hath now thrown thee into my hands and I am cunninger than thou.” Quoth the Ifrit, “Open for me and I may bring thee weal.” Quoth the Fisherman, “Thou liest, thou accursed! my case with thee is that of the Wazir of King Yunan with the sage Duban.”3 “And who was the Wazir of King Yunan and who was the sage Duban; and what was the story about them?” quoth the Ifrit, whereupon the Fisherman began to tell
1 The Mesmerist will notice this shudder which is familiar to him as preceding the “magnetic” trance.
2 Arab. “Bahr” which means a sea, a large river, a sheet of water, etc., lit. water cut or trenched in the earth. Bahri in Egypt means Northern; so Yamm (Sea, Mediterranean) in Hebrew is West.
3 In the Bull Edit. “Ruyán,” evidently a clerical error. The name is fanciful not significant.
Know, O thou Ifrit, that in days of yore and in ages long gone before, a King called Yunan reigned over the city of Fars of the land of the Roum.1 He was a powerful ruler and a wealthy, who had armies and guards and allies of all nations of men; but his body was afflicted with a leprosy which leaches and men of science failed to heal. He drank potions and he swallowed pow ders and he used unguents, but naught did him good and none among the host of physicians availed to procure him a cure. At last there came to his city a mighty healer of men and one well stricken in years, the sage Duban hight. This man was a reader of books, Greek, Persian, Roman, Arabian, and Syrian; and he was skilled in astronomy and in leechcraft, the theorick as well as the practick; he was experienced in all that healeth and that hurteth the body; conversant with the virtues of every plant, grass and herb, and their benefit and bane; and he understood philosophy and had compassed the whole range of medical science and other branches of the knowledge tree. Now this physician passed but few days in the city, ere he heard of the King’s malady and all his bodily sufferings through the leprosy with which Allah had smitten him; and how all the doctors and wise men had failed to heal him. Upon this he sat up through the night in deep thought and, when broke the dawn and appeared the morn and light was again born, and the Sun greeted the Good whose beauties the world adorn,2 he donned his handsomest dress and going in to King Yunan, he kissed the ground before him: then he prayed for the endurance of his honour and prosperity in fairest language and made himself known saying, “O King, tidings have reached I me of what befel thee through that which is in thy person; and how the host of physicians have proved themselves unavailing to abate it; and lo! I can cure thee, O King; and yet will I not make thee drink of draught or anoint thee with ointment.” Now when King Yunan heard his words he said in huge surprise, “How wilt thou do this? By Allah, if thou make me whole I will enrich thee even to thy son’s son and I will give thee sumptuous gifts; and whatso thou wishest shall be thine and thou shalt be to me a cup companion3 and a friend.” The King then robed him with a dress of honour and entreated him graciously and asked him, “Canst thou indeed cure me of this complaint without drug and unguent?” and he answered, “Yes! I will heal I thee without the pains and penalties of medicine.” The King marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, “O physician, when shall be this whereof thou speakest, and in how many days shall it take place? Haste thee, O my son!” He replied,“I hear and I obey; the cure shall begin tomorrow.” So saying he went forth from the presence, and hired himself a house in the city for the better storage of his books and scrolls, his medicines and his aromatic roots. Then he set to work at choosing the fittest drugs and simples and he fashioned a bat hollow within, and furnished with a handle without, for which he made a ball; the two being prepared with consummate art. On the next day when both were ready for use and wanted nothing more, he went up to the King; and, kissing the ground between his hands bade him ride forth on the parade ground4 there to play at pall and mall. He was accompanied by his suite, Emirs and Chamberlains, Wazirs and Lords of the realm and, ere he was seated, the sage Duban came up to him, and handing him the bat said, “Take this mall and grip it as I do; so! and now push for the plain and leaning well over thy horse drive the ball with all thy might until thy palm be moist and thy body perspire: then the medicine will penetrate through thy palm and will permeate thy person. When thou hast done with playing and thou feelest the effects of the medicine, return to thy palace, and make the Ghusl ablation5 in the Hammam bath, and lay thee down to sleep; so shalt thou be come whole; and now peace be with thee!” Thereupon King Yunan took the bat from the Sage and grasped it firmly; then, mounting steed, he drove the ball before him and gallopped after it till he reached it, when he struck it with all his might, his palm gripping the bat handle the while; and he ceased not malling the ball till his hand waxed moist and his skin, perspiring, imbibed the medicine from the wood. Then the sage Duban knew that the drugs had penetrated his person and bade him return to the palace and enter the Hammam without stay or delay; so King Yunan forthright returned and ordered them to clear for him the bath. They did so, the carpet spreaders making all haste, and the slaves all hurry and got ready a change of raiment for the King. He entered the bath and made the total ablution long and thoroughly; then donned his clothes within the Hammam and rode therefrom to his palace where he lay him down and slept. Such was the case with King Yunan, but as regards the sage Duban, he returned home and slept as usual and when morning dawned he repaired to the palace and craved audience. The King ordered him to be admitted; then, having kissed the ground between his hands, in allusion to the King he recited these couplets with solemn intonation:—
Happy is Eloquence when thou art named her sire
But mourns she whenas other man the title claimed.
O Lord of fairest presence, whose illuming rays
Clear off the fogs of doubt aye veiling deeds high famed,
Ne’er cease thy face to shine like Dawn and rise of Morn
And never show Time’s face with heat of ire inflamed!
Thy grace hath favoured us with gifts that worked such wise
As rain clouds raining on the hills by words enframed:
Freely thou lavishedst thy wealth to rise on high
Till won from Time the heights whereat thy grandeur aimed.
Now when the Sage ceased reciting, the King rose quickly to his feet and fell on his neck; then, seating him by his side he bade dress him in a sumptuous dress; for it had so happened that when the King left the Hammam he looked on his body and saw no trace of leprosy: the skin was all clean as virgin silver. He joyed thereat with exceeding joy, his breast broadened6 with delight and he felt thoroughly happy. Presently, when it was full day he entered his audience hall and sat upon the throne of his kingship whereupon his Chamberlains and Grandees flocked to the presence and with them the Sage Duban. Seeing the leach the King rose to him in honour and seated him by his side; then the food trays furnished with the daintiest viands were brought and the physician ate with the King, nor did he cease companying him all that day. Moreover, at nightfall he gave the physician Duban two thousand gold pieces, besides the usual dress of honour and other gifts galore, and sent him home on his own steed. After the Sage had fared forth King Yunan again expressed his amazement at the leach’s art, saying, “This man medicined my body from without nor anointed me with aught of ointments: by Allah, surely this is none other than consummate skill! I am bound to honour such a man with re wards and distinction, and take him to my companion and my friend during the remainder of my days.” So King Yunan passed the night in joy and gladness for that his body had been made whole and had thrown off so pernicious a malady. On the morrow the King went forth from his Serraglio and sat upon his throne, and the Lords of Estate stood about him, and the Emirs and Wazirs sat as was their wont on his right hand and on his left. Then he asked for the Sage Duban, who came in and kissed the ground before him, when the King rose to greet him and, seating him by his side, ate with him and wished him long life. Moreover he robed him and gave him gifts, and ceased not con versing with him until night approached. Then the King ordered him, by way of salary, five dresses of honour and a thousand dinars.7 The physician returned to his own house full of gratitude to the King. Now when next morning dawned the King repaired to his audience hall, and his Lords and Nobles surrounded him and his Chamberlains and his Ministers, as the white en closeth the black of the eye.8 Now the King had a Wazir among his Wazirs, unsightly to look upon, an ill omened spectacle; sor did, ungenerous, full of envy and evil will. When this Minister saw the King place the physician near him and give him all these gifts, he jaloused him and planned to do him a harm, as in the saying on such subject, “Envy lurks in every body;” and the say ing, “Oppression hideth in every heart: power revealeth it and weakness concealeth it.” Then the Minister came before the King and, kissing the ground between his hands, said, “O King of the age and of all time, thou in whose benefits I have grown to manhood, I have weighty advice to offer thee, and if I withhold it I were a son of adultery and no true born man; wherefore an thou order me to disclose it I will so do forthwith.” Quoth the King (and he was troubled at the words of the Minister), “And what is this counsel of thine?” Quoth he, “O glorious monarch, the wise of old have said:— Whoso regardeth not the end, hath not Fortune to friend; and indeed I have lately seen the King on far other than the right way; for he lavisheth largesse on his enemy, on one whose object is the decline and fall of his king ship: to this man he hath shown favour, honouring him with over honour and making of him an intimate. Wherefore I fear for the King’s life.” The King, who was much troubled and changed colour, asked, “Whom cost thou suspect and anent whom doest thou hint?” and the Minister answered, “O King, an thou be asleep, wake up! I point to the physician Duban.” Rejoined the King, “Fie upon thee! This is a true friend who is favoured by me above all men, because he cured me with some thing which I held in my hand, and he healed my leprosy which had baffled all physicians; indeed he is one whose like may not be found in these days — no, not in the whole world from furthest east to utmost west! And it is of such a man thou sayest such hard sayings. Now from this day forward I allot him a settled solde and allowances, every month a thousand gold pieces; and, were I to share with him my realm ’twere but a little matter. Perforce I must suspect that thou speakest on this wise from mere envy and jealousy as they relate of the King Sindibad.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth Dunyazad, “O my sister, how pleasant is thy tale, and how tasteful, how sweet, and how grateful!” She replied, “And where is this compared with what I could tell thee on the coming night if the King deign spare my life?” Then said the King in himself, “By Allah, I will not slay her until I hear the rest of her tale, for truly it is wondrous.” So they rested that night in mutual embrace until the dawn. Then the King went forth to his Hall of Rule, and the Wazir and the troops came in, and the audience chamber was thronged and the King gave orders and judged and appointed and deposed and bade and forbade during the rest of that day till the Court broke up, and King Shahryar returned to his palace.
1 The geography is ultra-Shakespearean. “Fárs” (whence “Persia”) is the central Province of the grand old Empire now a mere wreck, “Rúm” (which I write Roum, in order to avoid Jamaica) is the neo-Roman or Byzantine Empire, while “Yunan” is the classical Arab term for Greece (Ionia) which unlearned Moslems believe to be now under water.
2 The Sun greets Mohammed every morning even as it dances on Easter Day for Christendom. Risum teneatis?
3 Arab. “Nadím,” a term often occurring. It denotes one who was intimate enough to drink with the Caliph, a very high honour and a dangerous. The last who sat with “Nudamá” was Al–Razi bi’llah A.H. 329 = 940. See Al–Siyuti’s famous “History of the Caliphs” translated and admirably annotated by Major H. S. Jarrett, for the Bibliotheca Indica, Calcutta, 1880.
4Arab. Maydán (from Persian); Lane generally translates it “horse course ‘ and Payne “tilting yard.” It is both and something more; an open space, in or near the city, used for reviewing troops, races, playing the Jeríd (cane-spear) and other sports and exercises: thus Al–Maydan=Gr. hippodrome. The game here alluded to is our —‘polo,” or hockey on horseback, a favourite with the Persian Kings, as all old illustrations of the Shahnamah show. Maydan is also a natural plain for which copious Arabic has many terms, Fayhah or Sath (a plain generally), Khabt (a low-lying plain), Bat’há (a low sandy flat), Mahattah (a plain fit for halting) and so forth. (Pilgrimage iii., 11.)
5 For details concerning the “Ghusl” see Night xliv.
6 A popular idiom and highly expressive, contrasting the upright bearing of the self-satisfied man with the slouch of the miserable and the skirt-trailing of the woman in grief. I do not see the necessity of such Latinisms as “dilated” or “expanded.”
7 All these highest signs of favour foreshow, in Eastern tales and in Eastern life, an approaching downfall of the heaviest; they are so great that they arouse general jealousy. Many of us have seen this at native courts.
8 This phrase is contained in the word “ihdák” =encompassing, as the conjunctive does the pupil.
Her sister said, “Do you finish for us thy story if thou be not sleepy,” and she resumed:— It hath reached me, O auspicious King and mighty Monarch, that King Yunan said to his Minister, “O Wazir, thou art one whom the evil spirit of envy hath possessed because of this physician, and thou plottest for my putting him to death, after which I should repent me full sorely, even as repented King Sindibad for killing his falcon.” Quoth the Wazir, Pardon me, O King of the age, how was that?” So the King began the story of
It is said (but Allah is All knowing!1) that there was a King of the Kings of Fars, who was fond of pleasuring and diversion, especially coursing end hunting. He had reared a falcon which he carried all night on his fist, and whenever he went a chasing he took with him this bird; and he bade make for her a golden cuplet hung around her neck to give her drink therefrom. One day as the King was sitting quietly in his palace, behold, the high falcaner of the household suddenly addressed him, “O King of the age, this is indeed a day fit for birding.” The King gave orders accordingly and set out taking the hawk on fist; and they fared merrily forwards till they made a Wady2 where they planted a circle of nets for the chase; when lo! a gazelle came within the toils and the King cried, “Whoso alloweth yon gazelle to spring over his head and loseth her, that man will I surely slay.” They narrowed the nets about the gazelle when she drew near the King’s station; and, planting herself on her hind quarter, crossed her forehand over her breast, as if about to kiss the earth before the King. He bowed his brow low in acknowledgment to the beast; when she bounded high over his head and took the way of the waste. Thereupon the King turned towards his troops and seeing them winking and pointing at him, he asked, “O Wazir, what are my men saying?” and the Minister answered, “They say thou didst proclaim that whoso alloweth the gazelle to spring over his head, that man shall be put to death.” Quoth the King, “Now, by the life of my head! I will follow her up till I bring her back.” So he set off gallopping on the gazelle’s trail and gave not over tracking till he reached the foot hills of a mountain chain where the quarry made for a cave. Then the King cast off at it the falcon which presently caught it up and, swooping down, drove her talons into its eyes, bewildering and blinding it;3 and the King drew his mace and struck a blow which rolled the game over. He then dismounted; and, after cutting the antelope’s throat and flaying the body, hung it to the pommel of his saddle. Now the time was that of the siesta4 and the wold was parched and dry, nor was any water to be found anywhere; and the King thirsted and his horse also; so he went about searching till he saw a tree dropping water, as it were melted butter, from its boughs. Thereupon the King who wore gauntlets of skin to guard him against poisons took the cup from the hawk’s neck, and filling it with the water set it before the bird, and lo! the falcon struck it with her pounces and upset the liquid. The King filled it a second time with the dripping drops, thinking his hawk was thirsty; but the bird again struck at the cup with her talons and overturned it. Then the King waxed wroth with the hawk and filling the cup a third time offered it to his horse: but the hawk upset it with a flirt of wings. Quoth the King, “Allah confound thee, thou unluckiest of flying things! thou keepest me from drinking, and thou deprivest thyself also, and the horse.” So he struck the falcon with his sword and cut off her wing; but the bird raised her head and said by signs, “Look at that which hangeth on the tree!” The King lifted up his eyes accordingly and caught sight of a brood of vipers, whose poison drops he mistook for water; thereupon he repented him of having struck off his falcon’s wing, and mounting horse, fared on with the dead gazelle, till he arrived at the camp, his starting place. He threw the quarry to the cook saying, Take and broil it,” and sat down on his chair, the falcon being still on his fist when suddenly the bird gasped and died; whereupon the King cried out in sorrow and remorse for having slain that falcon which had saved his life. Now this is what occurred in the case of King Sindibad; and I am assured that were I to do as thou desirest I should repent even as the man who killed his parrot.” Quoth the Wazir, “And how was that?” And the King began to tell
1 I have noted this formula, which is used even in conversation when about to relate some great unfact.
2 We are obliged to English the word by “valley,” which is about as correct as the “brook Kedron,” applied to the grisliest of ravines. The Wady (in old Coptic wah, oah, whence “Oasis”) is the bed of a watercourse which flows only after rains. I have rendered it by “Fiumara” (Pilgrimage i., 5, and ii., 196, etc.), an Italian or rather a Sicilian word which exactly describes the “wady.”
3 I have described this scene which Mr. T. Wolf illustrated by an excellent lithograph in “Falconry, etc.” (London, Van Voorst, MDCCCLII.)
4 Arab. “Kaylúlah,” mid-day sleep; called siesta from the sixth canonical hour.
A certain man and a merchant to boot had married a fair wife, a woman of perfect beauty and grace, symmetry and loveliness, of whom he was mad-jealous, and who contrived successfully to keep him from travel. At last an occasion compelling him to leave her, he went to the bird market and bought him for one hundred gold pieces a she parrot which he set in his house to act as duenna, expecting her to acquaint him on his return with what had passed during the whole time of his absence; for the bird was kenning and cunning and never forgot what she had seen and heard. Now his fair wife had fallen in love with a young Turk, 2 who used to visit her, and she feasted him by day and lay with him by night. When the man had made his journey and won his wish he came home; and, at once causing the Parrot be brought to him, questioned her concerning the conduct of his consort whilst he was in foreign parts. Quoth she, “Thy wife hath a man friend who passed every night with her during thine absence.” Thereupon the husband went to his wife in a violent rage and bashed her with a bashing severe enough to satisfy any body. The woman, suspecting that one of the slave girls had been tattling to the master, called them together and questioned them upon their oaths, when all swore that they had kept the secret, but that the Parrot had not, adding, “And we heard her with our own ears.” Upon this the woman bade one of the girls to set a hand mill under the cage and grind therewith and a second to sprinkle water through the cage roof and a third to run about, right and left, dashing a mirror of bright steel through the livelong night. Next morning when the husband returned home after being entertained by one of his friends, he bade bring the Parrot before him and asked what had taken place whilst he was away. “Pardon me, O my master,” quoth the bird, “I could neither hear nor see aught by reason of the exceeding murk and the thunder and lightning which lasted throughout the night.” As it happened to be the summer tide the master was astounded and cried, “But we are now in mid Tammuz,3 and this is not the time for rains and storms.” “Ay, by Allah,” rejoined the bird, “I saw with these eyes what my tongue hath told thee.” Upon this the man, not knowing the case nor smoking the plot, waxed exceeding wroth; and, holding that his wife had been wrongously accused, put forth his hand and pulling the Parrot from her cage dashed her upon the ground with such force that he killed her on the spot. Some days after wards one of his slave girls confessed to him the whole truth,4 yet would he not believe it till he saw the young Turk, his wife’s lover, coming out of her chamber, when he bared his blade 5 and slew him by a blow on the back of the neck; and he did the same by the adulteress; and thus the twain, laden with mortal sin, went straightways to Eternal Fire. Then the merchant knew that the Parrot had told him the truth anent all she had seen and he mourned grievously for her loss, when mourning availed him not. The Minister, hearing the words of King Yunan, rejoined, ‘O Monarch, high in dignity, and what harm have I done him, or what evil have I seen from him that I should compass his death? I would not do this thing, save to serve thee, and soon shalt thou sight that it is right; and if thou accept my advice thou shalt be saved, otherwise thou shalt be destroyed even as a certain Wazir who acted treacherously by the young Prince.” Asked the King, “How was that?” and the Minister thus began
1 This parrot-story is world-wide in folk-lore and the belief in metempsychosis, which prevails more or less over all the East, there lends it probability. The “Book of Sindibad” (see Night dlxxix. and “The Academy,” Sept. 20, 1884, No. 646) converts it into the “Story of the Confectioner, his Wife and the Parrot,” and it is the base of the Hindostani text — book, “Tota–Kaháni” (Parrot-chat), an abridgement of the Tutinámah (Parrot-book) of Nakhshabi (circ. A.D. 1300), a congener of the Sanskrit “Suka Saptati,” or Seventy Parrot-stories. The tale is not in the Bull. or Mac. Edits. but occurs in the Bresl. (i., pp. 90, 91) much mutilated; and better in the Calc. Edit I cannot here refrain from noticing how vilely the twelve vols. of the Breslau Edit have been edited; even a table of contents being absent from the first four volumes.
2 The young “Turk” is probably a late addition, as it does not appear in many of the Mss., e. g. the Bresl. Edit. The wife usually spreads a cloth over the cage; this in the Turkish translation becomes a piece of leather.
3 The Hebrew–Syrian month July used to express the height of summer. As Herodotus tells us (ii. 4) the Egyptians claimed to be the discoverers of the solar year and the portioners of its course into twelve parts.
4 This proceeding is thoroughly characteristic of the servile class; they conscientiously conceal everything from the master till he finds a clew; after which they tell him everything and something more.
5 Until late years, merchants and shopkeepers in the nearer East all carried and held it a disgrace to leave the house unarmed.
A certain King, who had a son over much given to hunting and coursing, ordered one of his Wazirs to be in attendance upon him whithersoever he might wend. One day the youth set out for the chase accompanied by his father’s Minister; and, as they jogged on together, a big wild beast came in sight. Cried the Wazir to the King’s son, “Up and at yon noble quarry!” So the Prince followed it until he was lost to every eye and the chase got away from him in the waste; whereby he was confused and he knew not which way to turn, when lo! a damsel appeared ahead and she was in tears. The King’s son asked, “Who art thou?” and she answered, “I am daughter to a King among the Kings of Hind, and I was travelling with a caravan in the desert when drowsiness overcame me, and I fell from my beast unwittingly whereby I am cut off from my people and sore bewildered.” The Prince, hearing these words, pitied her case and, mounting her on his horse’s crupper, travelled until he passed by an old ruin 1, when the damsel said to him, “O my master, I wish to obey a call of nature”: he therefore set her down at the ruin where she delayed so long that the King’s son thought that she was only wasting time; so he followed her without her knowledge and behold, she was a Ghulah,2 a wicked Ogress, who was saying to her brood, “O my children, this day I bring you a fine fat youth, 3 for dinner;” whereto they answered, “Bring him quick to us, O our mother, that we may browse upon him our bellies full.” The Prince hearing their talk, made sure of death and his side muscles quivered in fear for his life, so he turned away and was about to fly. The Ghulah came out and seeing him in sore affright (for he was trembling in every limb? cried, “Wherefore art thou afraid?” and he replied, “I have hit upon an enemy whom I greatly fear.” Asked the Ghulah, “Diddest thou not say:— I am a King’s son?” and he answered, “Even so.” Then quoth she, “Why cost not give thine enemy something of money and so satisfy him?” Quoth he, “He will not be satisfied with my purse but only with my life, and I mortally fear him and am a man under oppression.” She replied, “If thou be so distressed, as thou deemest, ask aid against him from Allah, who will surely protect thee from his ill doing and from the evil whereof thou art afraid.” Then the Prince raised his eyes heavenwards and cried, “O Thou who answerest the necessitous when he calleth upon Thee and dispellest his distress; O my God! grant me victory over my foe and turn him from me, for Thou over all things art Almighty.” The Ghulah, hearing his prayer, turned away from him, and the Prince returned to his father, and told him the tale of the Wazir; whereupon the King summoned the Minister to his presence and then and there slew him. Thou likewise, O King, if thou continue to trust this leach, shalt be made to die the worst of deaths. He verily thou madest much of and whom thou entreatedest as an intimate, will work thy destruction. Seest thou not how he healed the disease from outside thy body by something grasped in thy hand? Be not assured that he will not destroy thee by something held in like manner! Replied King Yunan, “Thou hast spoken sooth, O Wazir, it may well be as thou hintest O my well advising Minister; and belike this Sage hath come as a spy searching to put me to death; for assuredly if he cured me by a something held in my hand, he can kill me by a something given me to smell.” Then asked King Yunan, “O Minister, what must be done with him?” and the Wazir answered, “Send after him this very instant and summon him to thy presence; and when he shall come strike him across the neck; and thus shalt thou rid thyself of him and his wickedness, and deceive him ere he can I deceive thee.” ‘Thou hast again spoken sooth, O Wazir,” said the King and sent one to call the Sage who came in joyful mood for he knew not what had appointed for him the Compassionate; as a certain poet saith by way of illustration:—
O Thou who fearest Fate, confiding fare
Trust all to Him who built the world and wait:
What Fate saith “Be” perforce must be, my lord!
And safe art thou from th undecreed of Fate.
As Duban the physician entered he addressed the King in these lines:—
An fail I of my thanks to thee nor thank thee day by day
For whom com posed I prose and verse, for whom my say and lay?
Thou lavishedst thy generous gifts ere they were craved by me
Thou lavishedst thy boons unsought sans pretext or delay:
How shall I stint my praise of thee, how shall I cease to laud
The grace of thee in secresy and patentest display?
Nay; I will thank thy benefits, for aye thy favours lie
Light on my thought and tongue, though heavy on my back they weigh.
And he said further on the same theme:—
Turn thee from grief nor care a jot!
Commit thy needs to Fate and Lot!
Enjoy the Present passing well
And let the Past be clean forgot
For whatso haply seemeth worse
Shall work thy weal as Allah wot
Allah shall do whate’er He wills
And in His will oppose Him not.
And further still. —
To th’ All wise Subtle One trust worldly things
Rest thee from all whereto the worldling clings:
Learn wisely well naught cometh by thy will
But e’en as willeth Allah, King of Kings.
And lastly. —
Gladsome and gay forget thine every grief
Full often grief the wisest hearts outwore:
Thought is but folly in the feeble slave
Shun it and so be saved evermore.
Said the King for sole return, “Knowest thou why I have summoned thee?” and the Sage replied, “Allah Most Highest alone kenneth hidden things!” But the King rejoined, “I summoned thee only to take thy life and utterly to destroy thee.” Duban the Wise wondered at this strange address with exceeding wonder and asked, “O King, and wherefore wouldest thou slay me, and what ill have I done thee?” and the King answered, “Men tell me thou art a spy sent hither with intent to slay me; and lo! I will kill thee ere I be killed by thee;” then he called to his Sworder, and said, “Strike me off the head of this traitor and deliver us from his evil practices.” Quoth the Sage, “Spare me and Allah will spare thee; slay me not or Allah shall slay thee.” And he repeated to him these very words, even as I to thee, O Ifrit, and yet thou wouldst not let me go, being bent upon my death. King Yunan only rejoined, “I shall not be safe without slaying thee; for, as thou healedst me by something held in hand, so am I not secure against thy killing me by something given me to smell or otherwise.” Said the physician, “This then, O King, is thy requital and reward; thou returnest only evil for good.” The King replied, “There is no help for it; die thou must and without delay.” Now when the physician was certified that the King would slay him without waiting, he wept and regretted the good he had done to other than the good. As one hath said on this subject:—
Of wit and wisdom is Maymunah4 bare
Whose sire in wisdom all the wits outstrippeth:
Man may not tread on mud or dust or clay
Save by good sense, else trippeth he and slippeth.
Hereupon the Sworder stepped forward and bound the Sage Duban’s eyes and bared his blade, saying to the King, “By thy leave;” while the physician wept and cried, “Spare me and Allah will spare thee, and slay me not or Allah shall slay thee,” and began repeating:—
I was kind and ’scaped not, they were cruel and escaped;
And my kindness only led me to Ruination Hall,
If I live I’ll ne’er be kind; if I die, then all be damned
Who follow me, and curses their kindliness befal.
“Is this,” continued Duban, “the return I meet from thee? Thou givest me, meseems, but crocodile boon.” Quoth the King,“What is the tale of the crocodile?”, and quoth the physician, “Impossible for me to tell it in this my state; Allah upon thee, spare me, as thou hopest Allah shall spare thee.” And he wept with ex ceeding weeping. Then one of the King’s favourites stood up and said, “O King! grant me the blood of this physician; we have never seen him sin against thee, or doing aught save healing thee from a disease which baffled every leach and man of science.” Said the King, “Ye wot not the cause of my putting to death this physician, and this it is. If I spare him, I doom myself to certain death; for one who healed me of such a malady by something held in my hand, surely can slay me by something held to my nose; and I fear lest he kill me for a price, since haply he is some spy whose sole purpose in coming hither was to compass my destruction. So there is no help for it; die he must, and then only shall I be sure of my own life.” Again cried Duban, “Spare me and Allah shall spare thee; and slay me not or Allah shall slay thee.” But it was in vain. Now when the physician, O Ifrit, knew for certain that the King would kill him, he said, “O King, if there be no help but I must die, grant me some little delay that I may go down to my house and release myself from mine obligations and direct my folk and my neighbours where to bury me and distribute my books of medicine. Amongst these I have one, the rarest of rarities, which I would present to thee as an offering: keep it as a treasure in thy treasury.” “And what is in the book?” asked the King and the Sage answered, “Things beyond compt; and the least of secrets is that if, directly after thou hast cut off my head, thou open three leaves and read three lines of the page to thy left hand, my head shall speak and answer every question thou deignest ask of it.” The King wondered with exceeding wonder and shaking5 with delight at the novelty, said, “O physician, cost thou really tell me that when I cut off thy head it will speak to me?” He replied, “Yes, O King!” Quoth the King, “This is indeed a strange matter!” and forthwith sent him closely guarded to his house, and Duban then and there settled all his obligations. Next day he went up to the King’s audience hall, where Emirs and Wazirs, Chamberlains and Nabobs, Grandees and Lords of Estate were gathered together, making the presence chamber gay as a garden of flower beds. And lo! the physician came up and stood before the King, bearing a worn old volume and a little etui of metal full of powder, like that used for the eyes.6 Then he sat down and said, “Give me a tray.” So they brought him one and he poured the powder upon it and levelled it and lastly spake as follows: “O King, take this book but do not open it till my head falls; then set it upon this tray, and bid press it down upon the powder, when forthright the blood will cease flowing. That is the time to open the book.” The King thereupon took the book and made a sign to the Sworder, who arose and struck off the physician’s head, and placing it on the middle of the tray, pressed it down upon the powder. The blood stopped flowing, and the Sage Duban unclosed his eyes and said, “Now open the book, O King!” The King opened the book, and found the leaves stuck together; so he put his finger to his mouth and, by moistening it, he easily turned over the first leaf, and in like way the second, and the third, each leaf opening with much trouble; and when he had un stuck six leaves he looked over them and, finding nothing written thereon, said, “O physician, there is no writing here!” Duban re plied, “Turn over yet more;” and he turned over three others in the same way. Now the book was poisoned; and before long the venom penetrated his system, and he fell into strong convulsions and he cried out, “The poison hath done its work!” Whereupon the Sage Duban’s head began to improvise:—
There be rulers who have ruled with a foul tyrannic sway
But they soon became as though they had never, never been:
Just, they had won justice: they oppressed and were oppress
By Fortune, who requited them with ban and bane and teen:
So they faded like the morn, and the tongue of things repeats
“Take this far that, nor vent upon Fortune’s ways thy spleen.”
No sooner had the head ceased speaking than the King rolled over dead. Now I would have thee know, O Ifrit, that if King Yunan had spared the Sage Duban, Allah would have spared him, but he refused so to do and decreed to do him dead, wherefore Allah slew him; and thou too, O Ifrit, if thou hadst spared me, Allah would have spared thee. And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say: then quoth Dunyazad, “O my sister, how pleasant is thy tale, and how tasteful; how sweet, and how grateful!” She replied, “And where is this compared with what I could tell thee this coming night, if I live and the King spare me?” Said the King in himself, “By Allah, I will not slay her until I hear the rest of her story, for truly it is wondrous.” They rested that night in mutual embrace until dawn: then the King went forth to his Darbar; the Wazirs and troops came in and the audience hall was crowded; so the King gave orders and judged and appointed and deposed and bade and forbade the rest of that day, when the court broke up, and King Shahryar entered his palace,
1 The Bresl. Edit. absurdly has Jazírah (an island).
2 The Ghúlah (fem. of Ghúl) is the Heb. Lilith or Lilis; the classical Lamia; the Hindu Yogini and Dakini, the Chaldean Utug and Gigim (desert-demons) as opposed to the Mas (hill-demon) and Telal (who steal into towns); the Ogress of our tales and the Bala yaga (Granny-witch) of Russian folk-lore. Etymologically “Ghul” is a calamity, a panic fear; and the monster is evidently the embodied horror of the grave and the graveyard.
3 Arab. “Shább” (Lat. juvenis) between puberty and forty or according to some fifty; when the patient becomes a “Rajul ikhtiyár” (man of free will) politely termed, and then a Shaykh or Shaybah (gray-beard, oldster).
4 Some proverbial name now forgotten. Torrens (p. 48) translates it “the giglot” (Fortune?) but “cannot discover the drift.”
5 Arab. “Ihtizáz,” that natural and instinctive movement caused by good news suddenly given, etc.
6 Arab. “Kohl,” in India, Surmah, not a “collyrium,” but powdered antimony for the eyelids. That sold in the bazars is not the real grey ore of antimony but a galena or sulphuret of lead. Its use arose as follows. When Allah showed Himself to Moses on Sinai through an opening the size of a needle, the Prophet fainted and the Mount took fire: thereupon Allah said, “Henceforth shalt thou and thy seed grind the earth of this mountain and apply it to your eyes!” The powder is kept in an étui called Makhalah and applied with a thick blunt needle to the inside of the eyelid, drawing it along the rim; hence etui and probe denote the sexual rem in re and in cases of adultery the question will be asked, “Didst thou see the needle in the Kohl-pot?” Women mostly use a preparation of soot or lamp-black (Hind. Kajala, Kajjal) whose colour is easily distinguished from that of Kohl. The latter word, with the article (Al–Kohl) is the origin of our “alcohol;” though even M. Littré fails to show how “fine powder” became “spirits of wine.” I found this powder (wherewith Jezebel “painted” her eyes) a great preservative from ophthalmia in desert-travelling: the use in India was universal, but now European example is gradually abolishing it.
Her sister, Dunyazad, said to her,“Pray finish for us thy story;” and she answered, “I will if the King give me leave.” “Say on,” quoth the King. And she continued:— It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Fisherman said to the Ifrit, “If thou hadst spared me I would have spared thee, but nothing would satisfy thee save my death; so now I will do thee die by jailing thee in this jar and I will hurl thee into this sea.” Then the Marid roared aloud and cried, “Allah upon thee, O Fisher man, don’t! Spare me, and pardon my past doings; and, as I have been tyrannous, so be thou generous, for it is said among sayings that go current:— O thou who doest good to him who hath done thee evil, suffice for the ill doer his ill deeds, and do not deal with me as did Umamah to ‘Atikah.”1 Asked the Fisherman, “And what was their case?” and the Ifrit answered, “This is not the time for story telling and I in this prison; but set me free and I will tell thee the tale.” Quoth the Fisherman, “Leave this language: there is no help but that thou be thrown back into the sea nor is there any way for thy getting out of it for ever and ever. Vainly I placed myself under thy protection,2 and I humbled my self to thee with weeping, while thou soughtest only to slay me, who had done thee no injury deserving this at thy hands; nay, so far from injuring thee by any evil act, I worked thee nought but weal in releasing thee from that jail of thine. Now I knew thee to be an evil doer when thou diddest to me what thou didst, and know, that when I have cast thee back into the sea, I will warn whomsoever may fish thee up of what hath befallen me with thee, and I will advise him to toss thee back again; so shalt thou abide here under these waters till the End of Time shall make an end of thee.” But the Ifrit cried aloud, “Set me free; this is a noble occasion for generosity and I make covenant with thee and vow never to do thee hurt and harm; nay, I will help thee to what shall put thee out of want.” The Fisherman accepted his promises on both conditions, not to trouble him as before, but on the contrary to do him service; and, after making firm the plight and swearing him a solemn oath by Allah Most Highest he opened the cucurbit. Thereupon the pillar of smoke rose up till all of it was fully out; then it thickened and once more became an Ifrit of hideous presence, who forthright ad ministered a kick to the bottle and sent it flying into the sea. The Fisherman, seeing how the cucurbit was treated and making sure of his own death, piddled in his clothes and said to himself, “This promiseth badly;” but he fortified his heart, and cried, “O Ifrit, Allah hath said3:— Perform your covenant; for the performance of your covenant shall be inquired into hereafter. Thou hast made a vow to me and hast sworn an oath not to play me false lest Allah play thee false, for verily he is a jealous God who respiteth the sinner, but letteth him not escape. I say to thee as said the Sage Duban to King Yunan, “Spare me so Allah may spare thee!” The Ifrit burst into laughter and stalked away, saying to the Fisherman, “Follow me;” and the man paced after him at a safe distance (for he was not assured of escape) till they had passed round the suburbs of the city. Thence they struck into the uncultivated grounds, and crossing them descended into a broad wilderness, and lo! in the midst of it stood a mountain tarn. The Ifrit waded in to the middle and again cried, “Follow me;” and when this was done he took his stand in the centre and bade the man cast his net and catch his fish. The Fisherman looked into the water and was much astonished to see therein vari coloured fishes, white and red, blue and yellow; however he cast his net and, hauling it in, saw that he had netted four fishes, one of each colour. Thereat he rejoiced greatly and more when the Ifrit said to him, “Carry these to the Sultan and set them in his presence; then he will give thee what shall make thee a wealthy man; and now accept my excuse, for by Allah at this time I wot none other way of benefiting thee, inasmuch I have lain in this sea eighteen hundred years and have not seen the face of the world save within this hour. But I would not have thee fish here save once a day.” The Ifrit then gave him God speed, saying, Allah grant we meet again;”4 and struck the earth with one foot, whereupon the ground clove asunder and swallowed him up. The Fisherman, much marvelling at what had happened to him with the Ifrit, took the fish and made for the city; and as soon as he reached home he filled an earthen bowl with water and therein threw the fish which began to struggle and wriggle about. Then he bore off the bowl upon his head and repairing to the King’s palace (even as the Ifrit had bidden him) laid the fish before the presence; and the King wondered with exceeding wonder at the sight, for never in his lifetime had’ he seen fishes like these in quality or in conformation. So he said, “Give those fish to the stranger slave girl who now cooketh for us,” meaning the bond maiden whom the King of Roum had sent to him only three days before, so that he had not yet made trial of her talents in the dressing of meat. Thereupon the Wazir carried the fish to the cook and bade her fry them5 saying, “O damsel, the King sendeth this say to thee:— I have not treasured thee, O tear o’ me! save for stress time of me; approve, then, to us this day thy delicate handiwork and thy savoury cooking; for this dish of fish is a present sent to the Sultan and evidently a rarity.” The Wazir, after he had carefully charged her, returned to the King, who commanded him to give the Fisherman four hundred diners: he gave them accordingly, and the man took them to his bosom and ran off home stumbling and falling and rising again and deeming the whole thing to be a dream. However, he bought for his family all they wanted and lastly he went to his wife in huge joy and gladness. So far concerning him; but as regards the cookmaid, she took the fish and cleansed them and set them in the frying pan, basting them with oil till one side was dressed. Then she turned them over and, behold, the kitchen wall crave asunder, and therefrom came a young lady, fair of form, oval of face, perfect in grace, with eyelids which Kohl lines enchase.6 Her dress was a silken head kerchief fringed and tasseled with blue: a large ring hung from either ear; a pair of bracelets adorned her wrists; rings with bezels of priceless gems were on her fingers; and she hent in hand a long rod of rattan cane which she thrust into the frying pan, saying, “O fish! O fish! be ye constant to your covenant?” When the cookmaiden saw this apparition she swooned away. The young lady repeated her words a second time and a third time, and at last the fishes raised their heads from the pan, and saying in articulate speech “Yes! Yes!” began with one voice to recite:—
Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I!
And if ye fain forsake, I’ll requite till quits we cry!
After this the young lady upset the frying pan and went forth by the way she came in and the kitchen wall closed upon her. When the cook maiden recovered from her fainting fit, she saw the four fishes charred black as charcoal, and crying out, “His staff brake in his first bout,”7 she again fell swooning to the ground. Whilst she was in this case the Wazir came for the fish and looking upon her as insensible she lay, not knowing Sunday from Thursday, shoved her with his foot and said, “Bring the fish for the Sultan!” Thereupon recovering from her fainting fit she wept and in formed him of her case and all that had befallen her. The Wazir marvelled greatly and exclaiming, “This is none other than a right strange matter!”, he sent after the Fisherman and said to him, “Thou, O Fisherman, must needs fetch us four fishes like those thou broughtest before.” Thereupon the man repaired to the tarn and cast his net; and when he landed it, lo! four fishes were therein exactly like the first. These he at once carried to the Wazir, who went in with them to the cook maiden and said, “Up with thee and fry these in my presence, that I may see this business.” The damsel arose and cleansed the fish, and set them in the frying pan over the fire; however they remained there but a little while ere the wall crave asunder and the young lady appeared, clad as before and holding in hand the wand which she again thrust into the frying pan, saying, “O fish! O fish! be ye constant to your olden covenant?” And behold, the fish lifted their heads, and repeated “Yes! Yes!” and recited this couplet:
Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I!
But if ye fain forsake, I’ll requite till quits we cry!
And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The tale of these two women is now forgotten.
2 Arab. “Atadakhkhal.” When danger threatens it is customary to seize a man’s skirt and cry “Dakhíl-ak!” ( = under thy protection). Among noble tribes the Badawi thus invoked will defend the stranger with his life. Foreigners have brought themselves into contempt by thus applying to women or to mere youths.
3 The formula of quoting from the Koran.
4 Lit. “Allah not desolate me” (by thine absence). This is still a popular phrase — Lá tawáhishná = Do not make me desolate, i.e. by staying away too long, and friends meeting after a term of days exclaim “Auhashtani!”=thou hast made me desolate, Je suis desole.
5 Charming simplicity of manners when the Prime Minister carries the fish (shade of Vattel!)!) to the cookmaid. The “Gesta Romanorum” is nowhere more naïve.
6 Arab. “Kahílat al-taraf” = lit. eyelids lined with Kohl; and figuratively “with black lashes and languorous look.” This is a phrase which frequently occurs in The Nights and which, as will appear, applies to the “lower animals” as well as to men. Moslems in Central Africa apply Kohl not to the thickness of the eyelid but upon both outer lids, fixing it with some greasy substance. The peculiar Egyptian (and Syrian) eye with its thick fringes of jet-black lashes, looking like lines of black drawn with soot, easily suggests the simile. In England I have seen the same appearance amongst miners fresh from the colliery.
7 Of course applying to her own case.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the fishes spoke, and the young lady upset the frying pan with her rod, and went forth by the way she came and the wall closed up, the Wazir cried out, “This is a thing not to be hidden from the King.” So he went and told him what had happened, where upon quoth the King, “There is no help for it but that I see this with mine own eyes.” Then he sent for the Fisherman and commended him to bring four other fish like the first and to take with him three men as witnesses. The Fisherman at once brought the fish: and the King, after ordering them to give him four hundred gold pieces, turned to the Wazir and said, “Up and fry me the fishes here before me!” The Minister, replying “To hear is to obey,” bade bring the frying pan, threw therein the cleansed fish and set it over the fire; when lo! the wall crave asunder, and out burst a black slave like a huge rock or a remnant of the tribe Ad1 bearing in hand a branch of a green tree; and he cried in loud and terrible tones, “O fish! O fish! be ye all constant to your antique covenant?” whereupon the fishes lifted their heads from the frying pan and said, “Yes! Yes! we be true to our vow;” and they again recited the couplet:
Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I!
But if ye fain forsake, I’ll requite till quits we cry!
Then the huge blackamoor approached the frying pan and upset it with the branch and went forth by the way he came in. When he vanished from their sight the King inspected the fish; and finding them all charred black as charcoal, was utterly bewildered and said to the Wazir, “Verily this is a matter whereanent silence cannot be kept, and as for the fishes, assuredly some marvellous adventure connects with them.” So he bade bring the Fisherman and asked him, saying “Fie on thee, fellow! whence came these fishes?” and he answered, “From a tarn between four heights lying behind this mountain which is in sight of thy city.” Quoth the King, “How many days’ march?” Quoth he, “O our lord the Sultan, a walk of half hour.” The King wondered and, straight way ordering his men to march and horsemen to mount, led off the Fisherman who went before as guide, privily damning the Ifrit. They fared on till they had climbed the mountain and descended unto a great desert which they had never seen during all their lives; and the Sultan and his merry men marvelled much at the wold set in the midst of four mountains, and the tarn and its fishes of four colours, red and white, yellow and blue. The King stood fixed to the spot in wonderment and asked his troops and all present, “Hath any one among you ever seen this piece of water before now?” and all made answer, “O King of the age never did we set eyes upon it during all our days.” They also questioned the oldest inhabitants they met, men well stricken in years, but they replied, each and every, “A lakelet this we never saw in this place.” Thereupon quoth the King, “By Allah I will neither return to my capital nor sit upon the throne of my forbears till I learn the truth about this tarn and the fish therein.” He then ordered his men to dismount and bivouac all around the mountain; which they did; and summoning his Wazir, a Minister of much experience, sagacious, of penetrating wit and well versed in affairs, said to him, “’Tis in my mind to do a certain thing whereof I will inform thee; my heart telleth me to fare forth alone this night and root out the mystery of this tarn and its fishes. Do thou take thy seat at my tent door, and say to the Emirs and Wazirs, the Nabobs and the Chamberlains, in fine to all who ask thee:— The Sultan is ill at ease, and he hath ordered me to refuse all admittance;2 and be careful thou let none know my design.” And the Wazir could not oppose him. Then the King changed his dress and ornaments and, slinging his sword over his shoulder, took a path which led up one of the mountains and marched for the rest of the night till morning dawned; nor did he cease wayfaring till the heat was too much for him. After his long walk he rested for a while, and then resumed his march and fared on through the second night till dawn, when suddenly there appeared a black point in the far distance. Hereat he rejoiced and said to himself, “Haply some one here shall acquaint me with the mystery of the tarn and its fishes.” Presently drawing near the dark object he found it a palace built of swart stone plated with iron; and, while one leaf of the gate stood wide open, the other was shut, The King’s spirits rose high as he stood before the gate and rapped a light rap; but hearing no answer he knocked a second knock and a third; yet there came no sign. Then he knocked his loudest but still no answer, so he said, “Doubtless ’tis empty.” Thereupon he mustered up resolution and boldly walked through the main gate into the great hall and there cried out aloud, “Holla, ye people of the palace! I am a stranger and a wayfarer; have you aught here of victual?” He repeated his cry a second time and a third but still there came no reply; so strengthening his heart and making up his mind he stalked through the vestibule into the very middle of the palace and found no man in it. Yet it was furnished with silken stuffs gold starred; and the hangings were let down over the door ways. In the midst was a spacious court off which set four open saloons each with its raised dais, saloon facing saloon; a canopy shaded the court and in the centre was a jetting fount with four figures of lions made of red gold, spouting from their mouths water clear as pearls and diaphanous gems. Round about the palace birds were let loose and over it stretched a net of golden wire, hindering them from flying off; in brief there was everything but human beings. The King marvelled mightily thereat, yet felt he sad at heart for that he saw no one to give him account of the waste and its tarn, the fishes, the mountains and the palace itself. Presently as he sat between the doors in deep thought behold, there came a voice of lament, as from a heart grief spent and he heard the voice chanting these verses:—
I hid what I endured of him3 and yet it came to light,
And nightly sleep mine eyelids fled and changed to sleepless night:
Oh world! Oh Fate! withhold thy hand and cease thy hurt and harm
Look and behold my hapless sprite in colour and affright:
Wilt ne’er show ruth to highborn youth who lost him on the way
Of Love, and fell from wealth and fame to lowest basest wight.
Jealous of Zephyr’s breath was I as on your form he breathed
But whenas Destiny descends she blindeth human sight4
What shall the hapless archer do who when he fronts his foe
And bends his bow to shoot the shaft shall find his string undight?
When cark and care so heavy bear on youth5 of generous soul
How shall he ’scape his lot and where from Fate his place of flight?
Now when the Sultan heard the mournful voice he sprang to his feet; and, following the sound, found a curtain let down over a chamber door. He raised it and saw behind it a young man sitting upon a couch about a cubit above the ground; and he fair to the sight, a well shaped wight, with eloquence dight; his forehead was flower white, his cheek rosy bright, and a mole on his cheek breadth like an ambergris mite; even as the poet cloth indite:—
A youth slim waisted from whose locks and brow
The world in blackness and in light is set.
Throughout Creation’s round no fairer show
No rarer sight thine eye hath ever met:
A nut brown mole sits throned upon a cheek
Of rosiest red beneath an eye of jet.6
The King rejoiced and saluted him, but he remained sitting in his caftan of silken stuff pureed with Egyptian gold and his crown studded with gems of sorts; but his face was sad with the traces of sorrow. He returned the royal salute in most courteous wise adding, “O my lord, thy dignity demandeth my rising to thee; and my sole excuse is to crave thy pardon.”7 Quoth the King, “Thou art excused, O youth; so look upon me as thy guest come hither on an especial object. I would thou acquaint me with the secrets of this tarn and its fishes and of this palace and thy loneliness therein and the cause of thy groaning and wailing.” When the young man heard these words he wept with sore weeping;8 till his bosom was drenched with tears and began reciting —
Say him who careless sleeps what while the shaft of Fortune flies
How many cloth this shifting world lay low and raise to rise?
Although thine eye be sealed in sleep, sleep not th’ Almighty’s eyes
And who hath found Time ever fair, or Fate in constant guise?
Then he sighed a long fetched sigh and recited:—
Confide thy case to Him, the Lord who made mankind;
Quit cark and care and cultivate content of mind;
Ask not the Past or how or why it came to pass:
All human things by Fate and Destiny were designed!
The King marvelled and asked him, “What maketh thee weep, O young man?” and he answered, “How should I not weep, when this is my case!” Thereupon he put out his hand and raised the skirt of his garment, when lo! the lower half of him appeared stone down to his feet while from his navel to the hair of his head he was man. The King, seeing this his plight, grieved with sore grief and of his compassion cried, “Alack and well away! in very sooth, O youth, thou heapest sorrow upon my sorrow. I was minded to ask thee the mystery of the fishes only: whereas now I am concerned to learn thy story as well as theirs. But there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!9 Lose no time, O youth, but tell me forthright thy whole tale.” Quoth he, “Lend me thine ears, thy sight and thine in sight;” and quoth the King, “All are at thy service!” Thereupon the youth began, “Right wondrous and marvellous is my case and that of these fishes; and were it graven with gravers upon the eye corners it were a warner to whoso would be warned.” “How is that?” asked the King, and the young man began to tell
1 Prehistoric Arabs who measured from 60 to 100 cubits high: Koran, chaps. xxvi., etc. They will often be mentioned in The Nights.
2 I Arab. “Dastúr” (from Persian) = leave, permission. The word has two meanings (see Burckhardt, Arab. Prov. No. 609) and is much used, ea. before walking up stairs or entering a room where strange women might be met. So “Tarík” = Clear the way (Pilgrimage, iii., 319). The old Persian occupation of Egypt, not to speak of the Persian speaking Circassians and other rulers has left many such traces in popular language. One of them is that horror of travelers — “Bakhshísh” pron. bakh-sheesh and shortened to shísh from the Pers. “bakhshish.” Our “Christmas box” has been most unnecessarily derived from the same, despite our reading:–
Gladly the boy, with Christmas box in hand.
And, as will be seen, Persians have bequeathed to the outer world worse things than bad language, e.g.. heresy and sodomy.
3 He speaks of his wife but euphemistically in the masculine.
4 A popular saying throughout Al–Islam.
5 Arab. “Fata”: lit.=a youth; a generous man, one of noble mind (as youth-tide should be). It corresponds with the Lat. “vir,” and has much the meaning of the Ital. “Giovane,” the Germ. “Junker” and our “gentleman.”
6 From the Bul.Edit.
7 The vagueness of his statement is euphemistic.
8 This readiness of shedding tears contrasts strongly with the external stoicism of modern civilization; but it is true to Arab character, and Easterns, like the heroes of Homer and Italians of Boccacio, are not ashamed of what we look upon as the result of feminine hysteria — “a good cry.”
9 The formula (constantly used by Moslems) here denotes displeasure, doubt how to act and so forth. Pronounce, “Lá haula wa lá kuwwata illá bi ‘lláhi ‘I-Aliyyi ‘I-Azim.” As a rule mistakes are marvellous: Mandeville (chaps. xii.) for “Lá iláha illa ‘lláhu wa Muhammadun Rasúlu ’llah” writes “La ellec sila, Machomete rores alla.” The former (lá haula, etc.), on account of the four peculiar Arabic letters, is everywhere pronounced differently. and the exclamation is called “Haulak” or “Haukal.”
Know then, O my lord, that whilome my sire was King of this city, and his name was Mahmud, entitled Lord of the Black Islands, and owner of what are now these four mountains. He ruled three score and ten years, after which he went to the mercy of the Lord and I reigned as Sultan in his stead. I took to wife my cousin, the daughter of my paternal uncle,1 and she loved me with such abounding love that whenever I was absent she ate not and she drank not until she saw me again. She cohabited with me for five years till a certain day when she went forth to the Hammam bath; and I bade the cook hasten to get ready all requisites for our supper. And I entered this palace and lay down on the bed where I was wont to sleep and bade two damsels to fan my face, one sitting by my head and the other at my feet. But I was troubled and made restless by my wife’s absence and could not sleep; for although my eyes were closed my mind and thoughts were wide awake. Presently I heard the slave girl at my head say to her at my feet, “O Mas’udah, how miserable is our master and how wasted in his youth and oh! the pity of his being so be trayed by our mistress, the accursed whore!’’2 The other replied, “Yes indeed: Allah curse all faithless women and adulterous; but the like of our master, with his fair gifts, deserveth something better than this harlot who lieth abroad every night.” Then quoth she who sat by my head, “Is our lord dumb or fit only for bubbling that he questioneth her not!” and quoth the other, “Fie on thee! cloth our lord know her ways or cloth she allow him his choice? Nay, more, cloth she not drug every night the cup she giveth him to drink before sleep time, and put Bhang3 into it? So he sleepeth and wotteth not whither she goeth, nor what she doeth; but we know that after giving him the drugged wine, she donneth her richest raiment and perfumeth herself and then she fareth out from him to be away till break of day; then she cometh to him, and burneth a pastile under his nose and he awaketh from his deathlike sleep.” When I heard the slave girl’s words, the light became black before my sight and I thought night would never-fall. Presently the daughter of my uncle came from the baths; and they set the table for us and we ate and sat together a fair half hour quaffing our wine as was ever our wont. Then she called for the particular wine I used to drink before sleeping and reached me the cup; but, seeming to drink it according to my wont, I poured the contents into my bosom; and, lying down, let her hear that I was asleep. Then, behold, she cried, “Sleep out the night, and never wake again: by Allah, I loathe thee and I loathe thy whole body, and my soul turneth in disgust from cohabiting with thee; and I see not the moment when Allah shall snatch away thy life!” Then she rose and donned her fairest dress and perfumed her person and slung my sword over her shoulder; and, opening the gates of the palace, went her ill way. I rose and followed her as she left the palace and she threaded the streets until she came to the city gate, where she spoke words I understood not, and the padlocks dropped of themselves as if broken and the gate leaves opened. She went forth (and I after her without her noticing aught) till she came at last to the outlying mounds4 and a reed fence built about a round roofed hut of mud bricks. As she entered the door, I climbed upon the roof which commanded a view of the interior, and lo! my fair cousin had gone in to a hideous negro slave with his upper lip like the cover of a pot, and his lower like an open pot; lips which might sweep up sand from the gravel-floor of the cot. He was to boot a leper and a paralytic, lying upon a strew of sugar cane trash and wrapped in an old blanket and the foulest rags and tatters. She kissed the earth before him, and he raised his head so as to see her and said, “Woe to thee! what call hadst thou to stay away all this time? Here have been with me sundry of the black brethren, who drank their wine and each had his young lady, and I was not content to drink because of thine absence.” Then she, “O my lord, my heart’s love and coolth of my eyes 5 knowest thou not that I am married to my cousin whose very look I loathe, and hate myself when in his company? And did not I fear for thy sake, I would not let a single sun arise before making his city a ruined heap wherein raven should croak and howlet hoot, and jackal and wolf harbour and loot; nay I had removed its very stones to the back side of Mount Kaf.” 6 Rejoined the slave, Thou liest, damn thee! Now I swear an oath by the velour and honour of blackamoor men (and deem not our manliness to be; the poor manliness of white men), from today forth if thou stay away till this hour, I will not keep company with thee nor will I glue my body with thy body and strum and belly bump Dost play fast and loose with us, thou cracked pot, that we may satisfy thy dirty lusts? stinkard! bitch! vilest of the vile whites!” When I heard his words, and saw with my own eyes what passed between these two wretches, the world waxed dark be fore my face and my soul knew not in what place it was. But my wife humbly stood up weeping before and wheedling the slave, and saying, O my beloved, and very fruit of my heart, there is none left to cheer me but thy dear self; and, if thou cast me off who shall take me in, O my beloved, O light of my eyes?” And she ceased not weeping and abasing herself to him until he deigned be reconciled with her. Then was she right glad and stood up and doffed her clothes, even to her petticoat trousers, and said, 0 my master what hast thou here for thy handmaiden to eat? Uncover the basin,” he grumbled, “and thou shalt find t the bottom the broiled bones of some rats we dined on, pick at them, and then go to that slop pot where thou shalt find some leavings of beer 7 which thou mayest drink.” So she ate and drank and washed her hands, and went and lay down by the side of the slave, upon the cane trash and, stripping herself stark naked, she crept in with him under his foul coverlet and his rags and tatters. When I saw my wife, my cousin, the daughter of my uncle, do this deed8 I clean lost my wits, and climbing down from the roof, I entered and took the sword which she had with her and drew it, determined to cut down the twain. I first struck at the slave’s neck and thought that the death decree had fallen on him.”—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 An Arab holds that he has a right to marry his first cousin, the daughter of his father’s brother, and if any win her from him a death and a blood-feud may result. It was the same in a modified form amongst the Jews and in both races the consanguineous marriage was not attended by the evil results (idiotcy, congenital deafness, etc.) observed in mixed races like the English and the Anglo–American. When a Badawi speaks of “the daughter of my uncle” he means wife; and the former is the dearer title, as a wife can be divorced, but blood is thicker than water.
2 Arab. “Kahbah;” the coarsest possible term. Hence the unhappy “Cave” of Don Roderick the Goth, which simply means The Whore.
3 The Arab “Banj” and Hindú “Bhang” (which I use as most familiar) both derive from the old Coptic “Nibanj” meaning a preparation of hemp (Cannabis sativa seu Indica); and here it is easy to recognise the Homeric “Nepenthe.” Al — Kazwini explains the term by “garden hemp (Kinnab bostáni or Sháhdánaj). On the other hand not a few apply the word to the henbane (hyoscyamus niger) so much used in mediæval Europe. The Kámús evidently means henbane distinguishing it from Hashish al haráfísh” = rascals’ grass, i.e. the herb Pantagruelion. The “Alfáz Adwiya” (French translation) explains “Tabannuj” by “Endormir quelqu’un en lui faisant avaler de la jusquiame.” In modern parlance Tabannuj is = our anæsthetic administered before an operation, a deadener of pain like myrrh and a number of other drugs. For this purpose hemp is always used (at least I never heard of henbane); and various preparations of the drug are sold at an especial bazar in Cairo. See the “powder of marvellous virtue” in Boccaccio, iii., 8; and iv., 10. Of these intoxicants, properly so termed, I shall have something to say in a future page.
The use of Bhang doubtless dates from the dawn of civilisation, whose earliest social pleasures would be inebriants. Herodotus (iv. c. 75) shows the Scythians burning the seeds (leaves and capsules) in worship and becoming drunken with the fumes, as do the S. African Bushmen of the present day. This would be the earliest form of smoking: it is still doubtful whether the pipe was used or not. Galen also mentions intoxication by hemp. Amongst Moslems, the Persians adopted the drink as an ecstatic, and about our thirteenth century Egypt, which began the practice, introduced a number of preparations to be noticed in the course of The Nights.
4 The rubbish heaps which outlie Eastern cities, some (near Cairo) are over a hundred feet high.
5 Arab. “Kurrat al-aye;” coolness of eyes as opposed to a hot eye (“sakhin”) one red with tears. The term is true and picturesque so I translate it literally. All coolness is pleasant to dwellers in burning lands: thus in Al–Hariri Abu Z yd says of Bassorah, “I found there whatever could fill the eye with coolness.” And a “cool booty” (or prize) is one which has been secured without plunging into the flames of war, or imply a pleasant prize.
6 Popularly rendered Caucasus (see Night cdxcvi): it corresponds so far with the Hindu “Udaya” that the sun rises behind it; and the “false dawn” is caused by a hole or gap. It is also the Persian Alborz, the Indian Meru (Sumeru), the Greek Olympus and the Rhiphæan Range (Veliki Camenypoys) or great starry girdle of the world, etc.
7 Arab. “Mizr” or “Mizar;” vulg. Búzah; hence the medical Lat. Buza, the Russian Buza (millet beer), our booze, the O. Dutch “buyzen” and the German “busen.” This is the old of negro and negroid Africa, the beer of Osiris, of which dried remains have been found in jars amongst Egyptian tombs. In Equatorial Africa it known as Pombe; on the Upper Nile “Merissa” or “Mirisi” and amongst the Kafirs (Caffers) “Tshuala,” “Oala” or “Boyala:” I have also heard of “Buswa”in Central Africa which may be the origin of “Buzah.” In the West it became, (Romaic, Xythum and cerevisia or cervisia, the humor ex hordeo, long before the days of King Gambrinus. Central Africans drink it in immense quantities: in Unyamwezi the standing bedsteads, covered with bark-slabs, are all made sloping so as to drain off the liquor. A chief lives wholly on beef and Pombe which is thick as gruel below. Hops are unknown: the grain, mostly Holcus, is made to germinate, then pounded, boiled and left to ferment. In Egypt the drink is affected chiefly by Berbers, Nubians and slaves from the Upper Nile, but it is a superior article and more like that of Europe than the “Pombe.” I have given an account of the manufacture in The Lake Regions of Central Africa, vol. ii., p. 286. There are other preparations, Umm-bulbul (mother nightie gale), Dinzáyah and Súbiyah, for which I must refer to the Shaykh El–Tounsy.
8 There is a terrible truth in this satire, which reminds us of the noble dame who preferred to her handsome husband the palefrenier laid, ord et infâme of Queen Margaret of Navarre (Heptameron No. xx.). We have all known women who sacrificed everything despite themselves, as it were, for the most worthless of men. The world stares and scoffs and blames and understands nothing. There is for every woman one man and one only in whose slavery she is “ready to sweep the floor.” Fate is mostly opposed to her meeting him but, when she does, adieu husband and children, honour and religion, life and “soul.” Moreover Nature (human) commands the union of contrasts, such as fair and foul, dark and light, tall and short; otherwise mankind would be like the canines, a race of extremes, dwarf as toy-terriers, giants like mastiffs, bald as Chinese “remedy dogs,” or hairy as Newfoundlands. The famous Wilkes said only a half truth when he backed himself, with an hour s start, against the handsomest man in England; his uncommon and remarkable ugliness (he was, as the Italians say, un bel brutto) was the highest recommendation in the eyes of very beautiful women.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young ensorcelled Prince said to the King, “When I smote the slave with intent to strike off his head, I thought that I had slain him; for he groaned a loud hissing groan, but I had cut only the skin and flesh of the gullet and the two arteries! It awoke the daughter of my uncle, so I sheathed the sword and fared forth for the city; and, entering the palace, lay upon my bed and slept till morning when my wife aroused me and I saw that she had cut off her hair and had donned mourning garments. Quoth she:— O son of my uncle, blame me not for what I do; it hath just reached me that my mother is dead, and my father hath been killed in holy war, and of my brothers one hath lost his life by a snake sting and the other by falling down some precipice; and I can and should do naught save weep and lament. When I heard her words I refrained from all reproach and said only:— Do as thou list; I certainly will not thwart thee. She continued sorrowing, weeping and wailing one whole year from the beginning of its circle to the end, and when it was finished she said to me. — I wish to build me in thy palace a tomb with a cupola, which I will set apart for my mourning and will name the House of Lamentations.1 Quoth I again:— Do as thou list! Then she builded for herself a cenotaph wherein to mourn, and set on its centre a dome under which showed a tomb like a Santon’s sepulchre. Thither she carried the slave and lodged him; but he was exceeding weak by reason of his wound, and unable to do her love service; he could only drink wine and from the day of his hurt he spake not a word, yet he lived on because his appointed hour2 was not come. Every day, morning and evening, my wife went to him and wept and wailed over him and gave him wine and strong soups, and left not off doing after this manner a second year; and I bore with her patiently and paid no heed to her. One day, however, I went in to her unawares; and I found her weeping and beating her face and crying:— Why art thou absent from my sight, O my heart’s delight? Speak to me, O my life; talk with me, O my love? Then she recited these verses:—
For your love my patience fails and albeit you forget
I may not, nor to other love my heart can make reply:
Bear my body, bear my soul wheresoever you may fare
And where you pitch the camp let my body buried lie:
Cry my name above my grave, and an answer shall return
The moaning of my bones responsive to your cry.3
Then she recited, weeping bitterly the while:—
The day of my delight is the day when draw you near
And the day of mine affright is the day you turn away:
Though I tremble through the night in my bitter dread of death
When I hold you in my arms I am free from all affray
Once more she began reciting:—
Though a morn I may awake with all happiness in hand
Though the world all be mine and like Kisra-kings4 I reign;
To me they had the worth of the winglet of the gnat
When I fail to see thy form, when I look for thee in vain
When she had ended for a time her words and her weeping I said to her — O my cousin, let this thy mourning suffice, for in pouring forth tears there is little profit! Thwart me not, answered she, in aught I do, or I will lay violent hands on myself! So I held my peace and left her to go her own way; and she ceased not to cry and keen and indulge her affliction for yet another year. At the end of the third year I waxed aweary of this lonesome mourning, and one day I happened to enter the cenotaph when vexed and angry with some matter which had thwarted me, and suddenly I heard her say:— O my lord, I never hear thee vouch safe a single word to me! Why cost thou not answer me, O my master? and she began reciting:—
O thou tomb! O, thou tomb! be his beauty set in shade?
Hast thou darkened that countenance all sheeny as the noon?
O thou tomb! neither earth nor yet heaven art to me
Then how cometh it in thee are conjoined my sun and moon?
When I heard such verses as these rage was heaped upon my rage I cried out:— Well away! how long is this sorrow to last? and I began repeating:—
O thou tomb! O thou tomb! be his horrors set in blight?
Hast thou dark ened his countenance that sickeneth the soul?
O thou tomb! neither cess pool nor pipkin art to me
Then how cometh it in thee are conjoined soil and coal?
When she heard my words she sprang to her feet crying. — Fie upon thee, thou cur! all this is of thy doings; thou hast wounded my heart s darling and thereby worked me sore woe and thou hast wasted his youth so that these three years he hath lain abed more dead than alive! In my wrath I cried:— O thou foulest of harlots and filthiest of whores ever futtered by negro slaves who are hired to have at thee!5 Yes indeed it was I who did this good deed; and snatching up my sword I drew it and made at her to cut her down. But she laughed my words and mine intent to scorn crying: To heel, hound that thou art! Alas6 for the past which shall no more come to pass nor shall any one avail the dead to raise. Allah hath indeed now given into my hand him who did to me this thing, a deed that hath burned my heart with a fire which died not and a flame which might not be quenched! Then she stood up; and, pronouncing some words to me unintelligible, she said:— By virtue of my egromancy become thou half stone and half man; whereupon I became what thou seest, unable to rise or to sit, and neither dead nor alive. Moreover she ensorcelled the city with all its streets and garths, and she turned by her gramarye the four islands into four mountains around the tarn whereof thou questionest me; and the citizens, who were of four different faiths, Moslem, Nazarene, Jew and Magian, she transformed by her enchantments into fishes; the Moslems are the white, the Magians red, the Christians blue and the Jews yellow.7 And every day she tortureth me and scourgeth me with an hundred stripes, each of which draweth floods of blood and cutteth the skin of my shoulders to strips; and lastly she clotheth my upper half with a hair cloth and then throweth over them these robes.” Hereupon the young man again shed tears and began reciting:—
In patience, O my God, I endure my lot and fate;
I will bear at will of Thee whatsoever be my state:
They oppress me; they torture me; they make my life a woe
Yet haply Heaven’s happiness shall compensate my strait:
Yea, straitened is my life by the bane and hate o’ foes
But Mustafa and Murtaza8 shall ope me Heaven’s gate.
After this the Sultan turned towards the young Prince and said, “O youth, thou hast removed one grief only to add another grief; but now, O my friend, where is she; and where is the mausoleum wherein lieth the wounded slave?” “The slave lieth under yon dome,” quoth the young man, “and she sitteth in the chamber fronting yonder door. And every day at sunrise she cometh forth, and first strippeth me, and whippeth me with an hundred strokes of the leathern scourge, and I weep and shriek; but there is no power of motion in my lower limbs to keep her off me. After ending her tormenting me she visiteth the slave, bringing him wine and boiled meats. And to morrow at an early hour she will be here.” Quoth the King, “By Allah, O youth, I will as suredly do thee a good deed which the world shall not willingly let die, and an act of derring do which shall be chronicled long after I am dead and gone by.” Then the King sat him by the side of the young Prince and talked till nightfall, when he lay down and slept; but, as soon as the false dawn9 showed, he arose and doffing his outer garments10 bared his blade and hastened to the place wherein lay the slave. Then was he ware of lighted candles and lamps, and the perfume of incenses and unguents, and directed by these, he made for the slave and struck him one stroke killing him on the spot: after which he lifted him on his back and threw him into a well that was in the palace. Presentry he returned and, donning the slave’s gear, lay down at length within the mausoleum with the drawn sword laid close to and along his side. After an hour or so the accursed witch came; and, first going to her husband, she stripped off his clothes and, taking a whip, flogged him cruelly while he cried out, “Ah! enough for me the case I am in! take pity on me, O my cousin!’ But she replied, “Didst thou take pity on me and spare the life of my true love on whom I coated?” Then she drew the cilice over his raw and bleeding skin and threw the robe upon all and went down to the slave with a goblet of wine and a bowl of meat broth in her hands. She entered under the dome weeping and wailing, “Well-away!” and crying, “O my lord! speak a word to me! O my master! talk awhile with me!” and began to recite these couplets. —
How long this harshness, this unlove, shall bide?
Suffice thee not tear floods thou hast espied?
Thou cost prolong our parting purposely
And if wouldst please my foe, thou’rt satisfied!
Then she wept again and said, “O my lord! speak to me, talk with me!” The King lowered his voice and, twisting his tongue, spoke after the fashion of the blackamoors and said “‘lack! ‘lack! there be no Ma’esty and there be no Might save in Allauh, the Gloriose, the Great!” Now when she heard these words she shouted for joy, and fell to the ground fainting; and when her senses returned she asked, “O my lord, can it be true that thou hast power of speech?” and the King making his voice small and faint answered, “O my cuss! cost thou deserve that I talk to thee and speak with thee?” “Why and wherefore?” rejoined she; and he replied “The why is that all the livelong day thou tormentest thy hubby; and he keeps calling on ‘eaven for aid until sleep is strange to me even from evenin’ till mawnin’, and he prays and damns, cussing us two, me and thee, causing me disquiet and much bother: were this not so, I should long ago have got my health; and it is this which prevents my answering thee.” Quoth she, “With thy leave I will release him from what spell is on him;“and quoth the King, “Release him and let’s have some rest!” She cried, “To hear is to obey;” and, going from the cenotaph to the palace, she took a metal bowl and filled it with water and spake over it certain words which made the contents bubble and boil as a cauldron seetheth over the fire. With this she sprinkled her husband saying, “By virtue of the dread words I have spoken, if thou becamest thus by my spells, come forth out of that form into thine own former form.” And lo and behold! the young man shook and trembled; then he rose to his feet and, rejoicing at his deliverance, cried aloud, “I testify that there is no god but the God, and in very truth Mohammed is His Apostle, whom Allah bless and keep!” Then she said to him, “Go forth and return not hither, for if thou do I will surely slay thee;” screaming these words in his face. So he went from between her hands; and she returned to the dome and, going down to the sepulchre, she said, “O my lord, come forth to me that I may look upon thee and thy goodliness!” The King replied in faint low words, “What11 thing hast thou done? Thou hast rid me of the branch but not of the root.” She asked, “O my darling! O my negro ring! what is the root?” And he answered, “Fie on thee, O my cuss! The people of this city and of the four islands every night when it’s half passed lift their heads from the tank in which thou hast turned them to fishes and cry to Heaven and call down its anger on me and thee; and this is the reason why my body’s baulked from health. Go at once and set them free then come to me and take my hand, and raise me up, for a little strength is already back in me.” When she heard the King’s words (and she still supposed him to be the slave) she cried joyously, O my master, on my head and on my eyes be thy commend, Bismillah12!’’ So she sprang to her feet and, full of joy and gladness, ran down to the tarn and took a little of its water n the palm of her hand — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Every Moslem burial-ground has a place of the kind where honourable women may sit and weep unseen by the multitude. These visits are enjoined by the Apostle:— Frequent the cemetery, ’twill make you think of futurity! Also:— Whoever visiteth the graves of his parents (or one of them) every Friday, he shall be written a pious son, even though he might have been in the world, before that, a disobedient. (Pilgrimage, ii., 71.) The buildings resemble our European “mortuary chapels.” Said, Pasha of Egypt, was kind enough to erect one on the island off Suez, for the “use of English ladies who would like shelter whilst weeping and wailing for their dead.” But I never heard that any of the ladles went there.
2 Arab. “Ajal”=the period of life, the appointed time of death: the word is of constant recurrence and is also applied to sudden death. See Lane’s Dictionary, s.v.
3 “The dying Badawi to his tribe” (and lover) appears to me highly pathetic. The wild people love to be buried upon hill slopes whence they can look down upon the camp; and they still call out the names of kinsmen and friends as they pass by the grave-yards. A similar piece occurs in Wetzstein (p. 27, “Reisebericht ueber Hauran,” etc.):—
O bear with you my bones where the camel bears his load
And bury me before you, if buried I must be;
And let me not be burled ‘neath the burden of the vine
But high upon the hill whence your sight I ever see!
As you pass along my grave cry aloud and name your names
The crying of your names shall revive the bones of me:
I have fasted through my life with my friends, and in my death,
I will feast when we meet, on that day of joy and glee.
4 The Akásirah (plur. of Kasrá=Chosroës) is here a title of the four great dynasties of Persian Kings. 1. The Peshdadian or Assyrian race, proto-historics for whom dates fail, 2. The Káyánián (Medes and Persians) who ended with the Alexandrian invasion in B. C. 331. 3. The Ashkánián (Parthenians or Arsacides) who ruled till A. D. 202; and 4. The Sassanides which have already been mentioned. But strictly speaking “Kisri” and “Kasra” are titles applied only to the latter dynasty and especially to the great King Anushirwan. They must not be confounded with “Khusrau” (P. N. Cyrus, Ahasuerus? Chosroës?), and yet the three seem to have combined in “Cæsar,” Kaysar and Czar. For details especially connected with Zoroaster see vol. I, p. 380 of the Dabistan or School of Manners, translated by David Shea and Anthony Troyer, Paris, 1843. The book is most valuable, but the proper names are so carelessly and incorrectly printed that the student is led into perpetual error.
5 The words are the very lowest and coarsest; but the scene is true to Arab life.
6 Arab.“Hayhát:” the word, written in a variety of ways is onomatopoetic, like our “heigh-ho!” it sometimes means “far from me (or you) be it!” but in popular usage it is simply “Alas.”
7 Lane (i., 134) finds a date for the book in this passage. The Soldan of Egypt, Mohammed ibn Kala’ún, in the early eighth century (Hijrah = our fourteenth), issued a sumptuary law compelling Christians and Jews to wear indigo-blue and saffron-yellow turbans, the white being reserved for Moslems. But the custom was much older and Mandeville (chaps. ix.) describes it in A. D. 1322 when it had become the rule. And it still endures; although abolished in the cities it is the rule for Christians, at least in the country parts of Egypt and Syria. I may here remark that such detached passages as these are absolutely useless for chronology: they may be simply the additions of editors or mere copyists.
8 The ancient “Mustaphá” = the Chosen (prophet, i. e. Mohammed), also titled Al–Mujtaba, the Accepted (Pilgrimage, ii., 309). “Murtaza”=the Elect, i.e. the Caliph Ali is the older “Mortada” or “Mortadi” of Ockley and his day, meaning “one pleasing to (or acceptable to) Allah.” Still older writers corrupted it to “Mortis Ali” and readers supposed this to be the Caliph’s name.
9 The gleam (zodiacal light) preceding the true dawn; the Persians call the former Subh-i-kázib (false or lying dawn) opposed to Subh-i-sádik (true dawn) and suppose that it is caused by the sun shining through a hole in the world — encircling Mount Kaf.
10 So the Heb. “Arún” = naked, means wearing the lower robe only; = our “in his shirt.”
11 Here we have the vulgar Egyptian colloquialism “Aysh” (— Ayyu shayyin) for the classical “Má” = what.
12 “In the name of Allah!” here said before taking action.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the young woman, the sorceress, took in hand some of the tarn water and spake over it words not to be understood, the fishes lifted their heads and stood up on the instant like men, the spell on the people of the city having been removed. What was the lake again became a crowded capital; the bazars were thronged with folk who bought and sold; each citizen was occupied with his own calling and the four hills became islands as they were whilome. Then the young woman, that wicked sorceress, returned to the King and (still thinking he was the negro) said to him, O my love! stretch forth thy honoured hand that I may assist thee to rise.” “Nearer to me,” quoth the King in a faint and feigned tone. She came close as to embrace him when he took up the sword lying hid by his side and smote her across the breast, so that the point showed gleaming behind her back. Then he smote her a second time and cut her in twain and cast her to the ground in two halves. After which he fared forth and found the young man, now freed from the spell, awaiting him and gave him joy of his happy release while the Prince kissed his hand with abundant thanks. Quoth the King, “Wilt thou abide in this city or go with me to my capital?” Quoth the youth, “O King of the age, wottest thou not what journey is between thee and thy city?” “Two days and a half,” answered he, whereupon said the other, “An thou be sleeping, O King, awake! Between thee and thy city is a year’s march for a well girt walker, and thou haddest not come hither in two days and a half save that the city was under enchantment. And I, O King, will never part from thee; no, not even for the twinkling of an eye.” The King rejoiced at his words and said, “Thanks be to Allah who hath bestowed thee upon me! From this hour thou art my son and my only son, for that in all my life I have never been blessed with issue.” Thereupon they embraced and joyed with exceeding great joy; and, reaching the palace, the Prince who had been spell bound informed his lords and his grandees that he was about to visit the Holy Places as a pilgrim, and bade them get ready all things necessary for the occasion. The preparations lasted ten days, after which he set out with the Sultan, whose heart burned in yearning for his city whence he had been absent a whole twelvemonth. They journeyed with an escort of Mamelukes1 carrying all manners of precious gifts and rarities, nor stinted they wayfaring day and night for a full year until they approached the Sultan’s capital, and sent on messengers to announce their coming. Then the Wazir and the whole army came out to meet him in joy and gladness, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing their King; and the troops kissed the ground before him and wished him joy of his safety. He entered and took seat upon his throne and the Minister came before him and, when acquainted with all that had be fallen the young Prince, he congratulated him on his narrow escape. When order was restored throughout the land the King gave largesse to many of his people, and said to the Wazir, “Hither the Fisherman who brought us the fishes!” So he sent for the man who had been the first cause of the city and the citizens being delivered from enchantment and, when he came in to the presence, the Sultan bestowed upon him a dress of honour, and questioned him of his condition and whether he had children. The Fisherman gave him to know that he had two daughters and a son, so the King sent for them and, taking one daughter to wife, gave the other to the young Prince and made the son his head treasurer. Furthermore he invested his Wazir with the Sultanate of the City in the Black Islands whilome belonging to the young Prince, and dispatched with him the escort of fifty armed slaves together with dresses of honour for all the Emirs and Grandees. The Wazir kissed hands and fared forth on his way; while the Sultan and the Prince abode at home in all the solace and the delight of life; and the Fisherman became the richest man of his age, and his daughters wived with Kings, until death came to them. And yet, O King! this is not more wondrous than the story of
1 Arab. “Mamlúk” (plur. Mamálik) lit. a chattel; and in The Nights a white slave trained to arms. The “Mameluke Beys” of Egypt were locally called the “Ghuzz,” I use the convenient word in its old popular sense;
’Tis sung, there’s a valiant Mameluke
In foreign lands ycleped (Sir Luke)—
Hudibras.
And hence, probably, Molière’s “Mamamouchi”; and the modern French use “Mamalue.” See Savary’s Letters, No. xl.
Once upon a time there was a Porter in Baghdad, who was a bachelor and who would remain unmarried. It came to pass on a certain day, as he stood about the street leaning idly upon his crate, behold, there stood before him an honourable woman in a mantilla of Mosul1 silk, broidered with gold and bordered with brocade; her walking shoes were also purfled with gold and her hair floated in long plaits. She raised her face veil2 and, showing two black eyes fringed with jetty lashes, whose glances were soft and languishing and whose perfect beauty was ever blandishing, she accosted the Porter and said in the suavest tones and choicest language, “Take up thy crate and follow me.” The Porter was so dazzled he could hardly believe that he heard her aright, but he shouldered his basket in hot haste saying in himself, “O day of good luck! O day of Allah’s grace!” and walked after her till she stopped at the door of a house. There she rapped, and presently came out to her an old man, a Nazarene, to whom she gave a gold piece, receiving from him in return what she required of strained wine clear as olive oil; and she set it safely in the hamper, saying “Lift and follow.” Quoth the Porter, “This, by Allah, is indeed an auspicious day, a day propitious for the granting of all a man wisheth.” He again hoisted up the crate and followed her; till she stopped at a fruiterer’s shop and bought from him Shami3 apples and Osmani quinces and Omani4 peaches, and cucumbers of Nile growth, and Egyptian limes and Sultani oranges and citrons; besides Aleppine jasmine, scented myrtle berries, Damascene nenuphars, flower of privet5 and camomile, blood red anemones, violets, and pomegranate bloom, eglantine and narcissus, and set the whole in the Porter’s crate, saying, “Up with it.” So he lifted and followed her till she stopped at a butcher’s booth and said, “Cut me off ten pounds of mutton.” She paid him his price and he wrapped it in a banana leaf, whereupon she laid it in the crate and said “Hoist, O Porter.” He hoisted accordingly, and followed her as she walked on till she stopped at a grocer’s, where she bought dry fruits and pistachio kernels, Tihamah raisins, shelled almonds and all wanted for dessert, and said to the Porter, “Lift and follow me.” So he up with his hamper and after her till she stayed at the confectioner’s, and she bought an earthen platter, and piled it with all kinds of sweetmeats in his shop, open worked tarts and fritters scented with musk and “soap cakes,” and lemon loaves and melon preserves,6 and “Zaynab’s combs,” and “ladies’ fingers,” and “Kazi’s tit-bits” and goodies of every description; and placed the platter in the Porter’s crate. Thereupon quoth he (being a merry man), “Thou shouldest have told me, and I would have brought with me a pony or a she camel to carry all this market stuff.” She smiled and gave him a little cuff on the nape saying, “Step out and exceed not in words for (Allah willing!) thy wage will not be wanting.” Then she stopped at a perfumer’s and took from him ten sorts of waters, rose scented with musk, grange Lower, waterlily, willow flower, violet and five others; and she also bought two loaves of sugar, a bottle for perfume spraying, a lump of male in cense, aloe wood, ambergris and musk, with candles of Alex’ andria wax; and she put the whole into the basket, saying, “Up with thy crate and after me.” He did so and followed until she stood before the greengrocer’s, of whom she bought pickled safflower and olives, in brine and in oil; with tarragon and cream cheese and hard Syrian cheese; and she stowed them away in the crate saying to the Porter, “Take up thy basket and follow me.” He did so and went after her till she came to a fair mansion fronted by a spacious court, a tall, fine place to which columns gave strength and grace: and the gate thereof had two leaves of ebony inlaid with plates of red gold. The lady stopped at the door and, turning her face veil sideways, knocked softly with her knuckles whilst the Porter stood behind her, thinking of naught save her beauty and loveliness. Presently the door swung back and both leaves were opened, whereupon he looked to see who had opened it; and behold, it was a lady of tall figure, some five feet high; a model of beauty and loveliness, brilliance and symmetry and perfect grace. Her forehead was flower white; her cheeks like the anemone ruddy bright; her eyes were those of the wild heifer or the gazelle, with eyebrows like the crescent moon which ends Sha’aban and begins Ramazan;7 her mouth was the ring of Sulayman,8 her lips coral red, and her teeth like a line of strung pearls or of camomile petals. Her throat recalled the antelope’s, and her breasts, like two pomegranates of even size, stood at bay as it were,9 her body rose and fell in waves below her dress like the rolls of a piece of brocade, and her navel10 would hold an ounce of benzoin ointment. In fine she was like her of whom the poet said:—
On Sun and Moon of palace cast thy sight
Enjoy her flower like face, her fragrant light:
Thine eyes shall never see in hair so black
Beauty encase a brow so purely white:
The ruddy rosy cheek proclaims her claim
Though fail her name whose beauties we indite:
As sways her gait I smile at hips so big
And weep to see the waist they bear so slight.
When the Porter looked upon her his wits were waylaid, and his senses were stormed so that his crate went nigh to fall from his head, and he said to himself, “Never have I in my life seen a day more blessed than this day!” Then quoth the lady portress to the lady cateress, “Come in from the gate and relieve this poor man of his load.” So the provisioner went in followed by the portress and the Porter and went on till they reached a spacious ground floor hall,11 built with admirable skill and beautified with all manner colours and carvings; with upper balconies and groined arches and galleries and cupboards and recesses whose curtains hung before them. In the midst stood a great basin full of water surrounding a fine fountain, and at the upper end on the raised dais was a couch of juniper wood set with gems and pearls, with a canopy like mosquito curtains of red satin silk looped up with pearls as big as filberts and bigger. Thereupon sat a lady bright of blee, with brow beaming brilliancy, the dream of philosophy, whose eyes were fraught with Babel’s gramarye12 and her eye brows were arched as for archery; her breath breathed ambergris and perfumery and her lips were sugar to taste and carnelian to see. Her stature was straight as the letter I13 and her face shamed the noon sun’s radiancy; and she was even as a galaxy, or a dome with golden marquetry or a bride displayed in choicest finery or a noble maid of Araby.14 Right well of her sang the bard when he said:—
Her smiles twin rows of pearls display
Chamomile-buds or rimey spray
Her tresses stray as night let down
And shames her light the dawn o’ day.
15The third lady rising from the couch stepped forward with grace ful swaying gait till she reached the middle of the saloon, when she said to her sisters, “Why stand ye here? take it down from this poor man’s head!” Then the cateress went and stood before him, and the portress behind him while the third helped them, and they lifted the load from the Porter’s head; and, emptying it of all that was therein, set everything in its place. Lastly they gave him two gold pieces, saying, “Wend thy ways, O Porter.” But he went not, for he stood looking at the ladies and admiring what uncommon beauty was theirs, and their pleasant manners and kindly dispositions (never had he seen goodlier); and he gazed wistfully at that good store of wines and sweet scented flowers and fruits and other matters. Also he marvelled with exceeding marvel, especially to see no man in the place and delayed his going; whereupon quoth the eldest lady, “What aileth thee that goest not; haply thy wage be too little?” And, turning to her sister the cateress, she said, “Give him another diner!” But the Porter answered, “By Allah, my lady, it is not for the wage; my hire is never more than two dirhams; but in very sooth my heart and my soul are taken up with you and your condition. I wonder to see you single with ne’er a man about you and not a soul to bear you company; and well you wot that the minaret toppleth o’er unless it stand upon four, and you want this same fourth; and women’s pleasure without man is short of measure, even as the poet said:—
Seest not we want for joy four things all told
The harp and lute, the flute and flageolet;
And be they companied with scents four fold
Rose, myrtle, anemone and violet
Nor please all eight an four thou wouldst withold
Good wine and youth and gold and pretty pet.
You be there and want a fourth who shall be a person of good sense and prudence; smart witted, and one apt to keep careful counsel.” His words pleased and amused them much; and they laughed at him and said, “And who is to assure us of that? We are maidens and we fear to entrust our secret where it may not be kept, for we have read in a certain chronicle the lines of one Ibn al-Sumam:-
Hold fast thy secret and to none unfold
Lost is a secret when that secret’s told
An fail thy breast thy secret to conceal
How canst thou hope another’s breast shall hold?
And Abu Nowás16 said well on the same subject:—
Who trusteth secret to another’s hand
Upon his brow deserveth burn of brand!”
When the Porter heard their words he rejoined, “By your lives! I am a man of sense and a discreet, who hath read books and perused chronicles; I reveal the fair and conceal the foul and I act as the poet adviseth:—
None but the good a secret keep
And good men keep it unrevealed:
It is to me a well shut house
With keyless locks and door ensealed”17
When the maidens heard his verse and its poetical application addressed to them they said, “Thou knowest that we have laid out all our monies on this place. Now say, hast thou aught to offer us in return for entertainment? For surely we will not suf fer thee to sit in our company and be our cup companion, and gaze upon our faces so fair and so rare without paying a round sum.18 Wottest thou not the saying:—
Sans hope of gain
Love’s not worth a grain?”
Whereto the lady portress added, “If thou bring anything thou art a something; if no thing, be off with thee, thou art a nothing;” but the procuratrix interposed, saying, “Nay, O my sisters, leave teasing him for by Allah he hath not failed us this day, and had he been other he never had kept patience with me, so whatever be his shot and scot I will take it upon myself.” The Porter, over joyed, kissed the ground before her and thanked her saying, “By Allah, these monies are the first fruits this day hath given me.” Hearing this they said, “Sit thee down and welcome to thee,” and the eldest lady added, “By Allah, we may not suffer thee to join us save on one condition, and this it is, that no questions be asked as to what concerneth thee not, and frowardness shall be soundly flogged.” Answered the Porter, “I agree to this, O my lady, on my head and my eyes be it! Lookye, I am dumb, I have no tongue. Then arose the provisioneress and tightening her girdle set the table by the fountain and put the flowers and sweet herbs in their jars, and strained the wine and ranged the flasks in row and made ready every requisite. Then sat she down, she and her sisters, placing amidst them the Porter who kept deeming himself in a dream; and she took up the wine flagon, and poured out the first cup and drank it off, and likewise a second and a third.19 After this she filled a fourth cup which she handed to one of her sisters; and, lastly, she crowned a goblet and passed it to the Porter, saying:—
“Drink the dear draught, drink free and fain
What healeth every grief and pain.”
He took the cup in his hand and, louting low, returned his best thanks and improvised:—
Drain not the bowl save with a trusty friend
A man of worth whose good old
For wine, like wind, sucks sweetness from the sweet
And stinks when over stench It haply blow:”
Adding:—
Drain not the bowl; save from dear hand like thine
The cup recall thy gifts; thou, gifts of wine.”
After repeating this couplet he kissed their hands and drank and was drunk and sat swaying from side to side and pursued:—
“All drinks wherein is blood the Law unclean
Doth hold save one, the blood shed of the vine:
Fill! fill! take all my wealth bequeathed or won
Thou fawn! a willing ransom for those eyne.”
Then the cateress crowned a cup and gave it to the portress, who took it from her hand and thanked her and drank. Thereupon she poured again and passed to the eldest lady who sat on the couch, and filled yet another and handed it to the Porter. He kissed the ground before them; and, after drinking and thanking them, he again began to recite:
“Here! Here! by Allah, here!
Cups of the sweet, the dear’
Fill me a brimming bowl
The Fount o’ Life I speer
Then the Porter stood up before the mistress of the house and said, “O lady, I am thy slave, thy Mameluke, thy white thrall, a, thy very bondsman;” and he began reciting:—
“A slave of slaves there standeth at thy door
Lauding thy generous boons and gifts galore
Beauty! may he come in awhile to ‘joy
Thy charms? for Love and I part nevermore!”
She said to him, “Drink; and health and happiness attend thy drink.” So he took the cup and kissed her hand and recited these lines in sing song:
“I gave her brave old wine that like her cheeks
Blushed red or flame from furnace flaring up:
She bussed the brim and said with many a smile
How durst thou deal folk’s cheek for folk to sup?
“Drink!” (said I) “these are tears of mine whose tinct
Is heart blood sighs have boiled in the cup.”
She answered him in the following couplet:—
“An tears of blood for me, friend, thou hast shed
Suffer me sup them, by thy head and eyes!”
Then the lady took the cup, and drank it off to her sisters’ health, and they ceased not drinking (the Porter being in the midst of them), and dancing and laughing and reciting verses and singing ballads and ritornellos. All this time the Porter was carrying on with them, kissing, toying, biting, handling, groping, fingering; whilst one thrust a dainty morsel in his mouth, and another slapped him; and this cuffed his cheeks, and that threw sweet flowers at him; and he was in the very paradise of pleasure, as though he were sitting in the seventh sphere among the Houris20 of Heaven. They ceased not doing after this fashion until the wine played tucks in their heads and worsted their wits; and, when the drink got the better of them, the portress stood up and doffed her clothes till she was mother naked. However, she let down her hair about her body by way of shift, and throwing herself into the basin disported herself and dived like a duck and swam up and down, and took water in her mouth, and spurted it all over the Porter, and washed her limbs, and between her breasts, and inside her thighs and all around her navel. Then she came up out of the cistern and throwing herself on the Porter’s lap said, “O my lord, O my love, what callest thou this article?” pointing to her slit, her solution of continuity. “I call that thy cleft,” quoth the Porter, and she rejoined, Wah! wah, art thou not ashamed to use such a word?” and she caught him by the collar and soundly cuffed him. Said he again, Thy womb, thy vulva;” and she struck him a second slap crying, “O fie, O fie, this is another ugly word; is here no shame in thee?” Quoth he, “Thy coynte;” and she cried, O thou! art wholly destitute of modesty?” and thumped and bashed him. Then cried the Porter, “Thy clitoris,”21 whereat the eldest lady came down upon him with a yet sorer beating, and said, “No;” and he said, “’Tis so,” and the Porter went on calling the same commodity by sundry other names, but whatever he said they beat him more and more till his neck ached and swelled with the blows he had gotten; and on this wise they made him a butt and a laughing stock. At last he turned upon them asking, And what do you women call this article?” Whereto the damsel made answer, “The basil of the bridges.”22 Cried the Porter, “Thank Allah for my safety: aid me and be thou propitious, O basil of the bridges!” They passed round the cup and tossed off the bowl again, when the second lady stood up; and, stripping off all her clothes, cast herself into the cistern and did as the first had done; then she came out of the water and throwing her naked form on the Porter’s lap pointed to her machine and said, “O light of mine eyes, do tell me what is the name of this concern?” He replied as before, “Thy slit;” and she rejoined, “Hath such term no shame for thee?” and cuffed him and buffeted him till the saloon rang with the blows. Then quoth she, “O fie! O fie! how canst thou say this without blushing?” He suggested, “The basil of the bridges;” but she would not have it and she said, “No! no!” and stuck him and slapped him on the back of the neck. Then he began calling out all the names he knew, “Thy slit, thy womb, thy coynte, thy clitoris;” and the girls kept on saying, “No! no!” So he said, “I stick to the basil of the bridges;” and all the three laughed till they fell on their backs and laid slaps on his neck and said, “No! no! that’s not its proper name.” Thereupon he cried, “O my sisters, what is its name?” and they replied, “What sayest thou to the husked sesame seed?” Then the cateress donned her clothes and they fell again to carousing, but the Porter kept moaning, “Oh! and Oh!” for his neck and shoulders, and the cup passed merrily round and round again for a full hour. After that time the eldest and handsomest lady stood up and stripped off her garments, whereupon the Porter took his neck in hand, and rubbed and shampoo’d it, saying, “My neck and shoulders are on the way of Allah!”23 Then she threw herself into the basin, and swam and dived, sported and washed; and the Porter looked at her naked figure as though she had been a slice of the moon24 and at her face with the sheen of Luna when at full, or like the dawn when it brighteneth, and he noted her noble stature and shape, and those glorious forms that quivered as she went; for she was naked as the Lord made her. Then he cried “Alack! Alack!“ and began to address her, versifying in these couplets:—
“If I liken thy shape to the bough when green
My likeness errs and I sore mistake it;
For the bough is fairest when clad the most
And thou art fairest when mother naked.”
When the lady heard his verses she came up out of the basin and, seating herself upon his lap and knees, pointed to her genitory and said, “O my lordling, what be the name of this?” Quoth he, “The basil of the bridges;” but she said, “Bah, bah!” Quoth he, “The husked sesame;” quoth she, “Pooh, pooh!” Then said he, “Thy womb;” and she cried, “Fie, Fie! art thou not ashamed of thyself?” and cuffed him on the nape of the neck. And whatever name he gave declaring “’Tis so,” she beat him and cried “No! no!” till at last he said, “O my sisters, and what is its name?” She replied, “It is entitled the Khan25 of Abu Mansur;” whereupon the Porter replied, “Ha! ha! O Allah be praised for safe deliverance! O Khan of Abu Mansur!” Then she came forth and dressed and the cup went round a full hour. At last the Porter rose up, and stripping off all his clothes, jumped into the tank and swam about and washed under his bearded chin and armpits, even as they had done. Then he came out and threw himself into the first lady’s lap and rested his arms upon the lap of the portress, and reposed his legs in the lap of the cateress and pointed to his prickle26 and said, “O my mistresses, what is the name of this article?” All laughed at his words till they fell on their backs, and one said, “Thy pintle!” But he replied, “No!” and gave each one of them a bite by way of forfeit. Then said they, “Thy pizzle!” but he cried “No,” and gave each of them a hug; And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The name of this celebrated succesor of Nineveh, where some suppose The Nights were written, is orig. (middle-gates) because it stood on the way where four great highways meet. The Arab. form “Mausil” (the vulgar “Mosul”) is also significant, alluding to the “junction” of Assyria and Babylonis. Hence our “muslin.”
2 This is Mr. Thackeray’s “nose-bag.” I translate by “walking-shoes” the Arab “Khuff” which are a manner of loose boot covering the ankle; they are not usually embroidered, the ornament being reserved for the inner shoe.
3 i.e. Syria (says Abulfeda) the “land on the left” (of one facing the east) as opposed to Al–Yaman the “land on the right.” Osmani would mean Turkish, Ottoman. When Bernard the Wise (Bohn, p.24) speaks of “Bagada and Axiam” (Mabillon’s text) or “Axinarri” (still worse), he means Baghdad and Ash–Shám (Syria, Damascus), the latter word puzzling his Editor. Richardson (Dissert, lxxii.) seems to support a hideous attempt to derive Shám from Shámat, a mole or wart, because the country is studded with hillocks! Al–Shám is often applied to Damascus-city whose proper name Dimishk belongs to books: this term is generally derived from Damáshik b. Káli b. Málik b. Sham (Shem). Lee (Ibn Batùtah, 29) denies that ha-Dimishki means “Eliezer of Damascus.”
4 From Oman = Eastern Arabia.
5 Arab. “Tamar Hannà” lit. date of Henna, but applied to the flower of the eastern privet (Lawsonia inermis) which has the sweet scent of freshly mown hay. The use of Henna as a dye is known even in Enland. The “myrtle” alluded to may either have been for a perfume (as it is held an anti-intoxicant) or for eating, the bitter aromatic berries of the “Ás” being supposed to flavour wine and especially Raki (raw brandy).
6 Lane. (i. 211) pleasantly remarks, “A list of these sweets is given in my original, but I have thought it better to omit the names” (!) Dozy does not shirk his duty, but he is not much more satisfactory in explaining words interesting to students because they are unfound in dictionaries and forgotten by the people. “Akrás (cakes) Laymunìyah (of limes) wa Maymunìyah” appears in the Bresl. Edit. as “Ma’amuniyah” which may mean “Ma’amun’s cakes” or “delectable cakes.” “Amshát” = (combs) perhaps refers to a fine kind of Kunàfah (vermicelli) known in Egypt and Syria as “Ghazl al-banát” = girl’s spinning.
7 The new moon carefully looked for by all Moslems because it begins the Ramazán-fast.
8 Solomon’s signet ring has before been noticed.
9 The “high-bosomed” damsel, with breasts firm as a cube, is a favourite with Arab tale tellers. Fanno baruffa is the Italian term for hard breasts pointing outwards.
10 A large hollow navel is looked upon not only as a beauty, but in children it is held a promise of good growth.
11 Arab. “Ka’ah,” a high hall opening upon the central court: we shall find the word used for a mansion, barrack, men’s quarters, etc.
12 Babel = Gate of God (El), or Gate of Ilu (P. N. of God), which the Jews ironically interpreted “Confusion.” The tradition of Babylonia being the very centre of witchcraft and enchantment by means of its Seven Deadly Spirits, has survived in Al–Islam; the two fallen angels (whose names will occur) being confined in a well; Nimrod attempting to reach Heaven from the Tower in a magical car drawn by monstrous birds and so forth. See p. 114, Francois Fenormant’s “Chaldean Magic,” London, Bagsters.
13 Arab. “Kámat Alfíyyah” = like the letter Alif, a straight perpendicular stroke. In the Egyptian hieroglyphs, the origin of every alphabet (not syllabarium) known to man, one form was a flag or leaf of water-plant standing upright. Hence probably the Arabic Alif-shape; while other nations preferred other modifications of the letter (ox’s head, etc), which in Egyptian number some thirty-six varieties, simple and compound.
14 I have not attempted to order this marvellous confusion of metaphors so characteristic of The Nights and the exigencies of Al-Saj’a = rhymed prose.
15 Here and elsewhere I omit the “kála (dice Turpino)” of the original: Torrens preserves “Thus goes the tale” (which it only interrupts). This is simply letter-wise and sense-foolish.
16 Of this worthy more at a future time.
17 i.e., sealed with the Kazi or legal authority’s seal of office.
18 “Nothing for nothing” is a fixed idea with the Eastern woman: not so much for greed as for a sexual point d’ honneur when dealing with the adversary — man.
19 She drinks first, the custom of the universal East, to show that the wine she had bought was unpoisoned. Easterns, who utterly ignore the “social glass” of Western civilisation drink honestly to get drunk; and, when far gone are addicted to horse-play (in Pers. “Badmasti” = le vin mauvais) which leads to quarrels and bloodshed. Hence it is held highly irreverent to assert of patriarchs, prophets and saints that they “drank wine;” and Moslems agree with our “Teatotallers” in denying that, except in the case of Noah, inebriatives are anywhere mentioned in Holy Writ.
20 Arab. “Húr al-Ayn,” lit. (maids) with eyes of lively white and black, applied to the virgins of Paradise who will wive with the happy Faithful. I retain our vulgar “Houri,” warning the reader that it is a masc. for a fem. (“Huríyah”) in Arab, although accepted in Persian, a genderless speach.
21 Arab. “Zambúr,” whose head is amputated in female circumcision. See Night cccclxxiv.
22 Ocymum basilicum noticed in Introduction, the bassilico of Boccaccio iv. 5. The Book of Kalilah and Dimnah represents it as “sprouting with something also whose smell is foul and disgusting and the sower at once sets to gather it and burn it with fire.” (The Fables of Bidpai translated from the later Syriac version by I. G. N. Keith–Falconer, etc., etc., etc., Cambridge University Press, 1885). Here, however, Habk is a pennyroyal (mentha puligium), and probably alludes to the pecten.
23 i. e. common property for all to beat.
24 “A digit of the moon” is the Hindú equivalent.
25 Better known to us as Caravanserai, the “Travellers’ Bungalow” of India: in the Khan, however, shelter is to be had, but neither bed nor board.
26 Arab. “Zubb.” I would again note that this and its synonyms are the equivalents of the Arabic, which is of the lowest. The tale-teller’s evident object is to accentuate the contrast with the tragical stories to follow.
Quoth her sister Dunyazad, “Finish for us thy story;” and she answered, “With joy and goodly greet” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsels stinted not saying to the Porter “Thy prickle, thy pintle, thy pizzle,” and he ceased not kissing and biting and hugging until his heart was satisfied, and they laughed on till they could no more. At last one said, “O our brother, what, then, is it called?” Quoth he, “Know ye not?” Quoth they, “No!” “Its veritable name,” said he, “is mule Burst all, which browseth on the basil of the bridges, and muncheth the husked sesame, and nighteth in the Khan of Abu Mansur.” Then laughed they till they fell on their backs, and returned to their carousel, and ceased not to be after this fashion till night began to fall. Thereupon said they to the Porter, ‘‘Bismillah,1 O our master, up and on with those sorry old shoes of thine and turn thy face and show us the breadth of thy shoulders!” Said he, “By Allah, to part with my soul would be easier for me than departing from you: come let us join night to day, and to morrow morning we will each wend our own way.” “My life on you,” said the procuratrix, “suffer him to tarry with us, that we may laugh at him: we may live out our lives and never meet with his like, for surely he is a right merry rogue and a witty.”2 So they said, “Thou must not remain with us this night save on condition that thou submit to our com mends, and that whatso thou seest, thou ask no questions there anent, nor enquire of its cause.” “All right,” rejoined he, and they said, “Go read the writing over the door.” So he rose and went to the entrance and there found written in letters of gold wash; Whoso speaketh of what concerneth him not, shall hear what pleaseth him not! 3 The Porter said, Be ye witnesses against me that I will not speak on whatso concerneth me not.” Then the cateress arose, and set food before them and they ate; after which they changed their drinking place for an other, and she lighted the lamps and candles and burned amber gris and aloes wood, and set on fresh fruit and the wine service, when they fell to carousing and talking of their lovers. And they ceased not to eat and drink and chat, nibbling dry fruits and laughing and playing tricks for the space of a full hour when lo! a knock was heard at the gate. The knocking in no wise dis turbed the seance, but one of them rose and went to see what it was and presently returned, saying, “Truly our pleasure for this night is to be perfect.” “How is that?” asked they; and she answered, “At the gate be three Persian Kalandars4 with their beards and heads and eyebrows shaven; and all three blind of the left eye — which is surely a strange chance. They are foreigners from Roum-land with the mark of travel plain upon them; they have just entered Baghdad, this being their first visit to our city; and the cause of their knocking at our door is simply because they cannot find a lodging. Indeed one of them said to me:— Haply the owner of this mansion will let us have the key of his stable or some old out house wherein we may pass this night; for evening had surprised them and, being strangers in the land, they knew none who would give them shelter. And, O my sisters, each of them is a figure o’ fun after his own fashion; and if we let them in we shall have matter to make sport of.” She gave not over persuading them till they said to her, “Let them in, and make thou the usual condition with them that they speak not of what concerneth them not, lest they hear what pleaseth them not.” So she rejoiced and going to the door presently returned with the three monoculars whose beards and mustachios were clean shaven.5 They salam’d and stood afar off by way of respect; but the three ladies rose up to them and welcomed them and wished them joy of their safe arrival and made them sit down. The Kalandars looked at the room and saw that it was a pleasant place, clean swept and garnished with cowers; and the lamps were burning and the smoke of perfumes was spireing in air; and beside the dessert and fruits and wine, there were three fair girls who might be maidens; so they exclaimed with one voice, “By Allah, ’tis good!” Then they turned to the Porter and saw that he was a merry faced wight, albeit he was by no means sober and was sore after his slappings. So they thought that he was one of themselves and said, “A mendicant like us! whether Arab or foreigner.”6 But when the Porter heard these words, he rose up, and fixing his eyes fiercely upon them, said, “Sit ye here without exceeding in talk! Have you not read what is writ over the door? surely it befitteth not fellows who come to us like paupers to wag your tongues at us.” “We crave thy pardon, O Fakír,”7 rejoined they, “and our heads are between thy hands.” The ladies laughed consumedly at the squabble; and, making peace between the Kalandars and the Porter, seated the new guests before meat and they ate. Then they sat together, and the portress served them with drink; and, as the cup went round merrily, quoth the Porter to the askers, “And you, O brothers mine, have ye no story or rare adventure to amuse us withal?” Now the warmth of wine having mounted to their heads they called for musical instruments; and the portress brought them a tambourine of Mosul, and a lute of Irák, and a Persian harp; and each mendicant took one and tuned it; this the tambourine and those the lute and the harp, and struck up a merry tune while the ladies sang so lustily that there was a great noise.8 And whilst they were carrying on, behold, some one knocked at the gate, and the portress went to see what was the matter there. Now the cause of that knocking, O King (quoth Shahrazad) was this, the Caliph, Harun al-Rashid, had gone forth from the palace, as was his wont now and then, to solace himself in the city that night, and to see and hear what new thing was stirring; he was in merchant’s gear, and he was attended by Ja’afar, his Wazir, and by Masrur his Sworder of Vengeance.9 As they walked about the city, their way led them towards the house of the three ladies; where they heard the loud noise of musical instruments and singing and merriment; so quoth the Caliph to Ja’afar, “I long to enter this house and hear those songs and see who sing them.” Quoth Ja’afar, “O Prince of the Faithful; these folk are surely drunken with wine, and I fear some mischief betide us if we get amongst them.” “There is no help but that I go in there,” replied the Caliph, “and I desire thee to contrive some pretext for our appearing among them.” Ja’afar replied, “I hear and I obey;”10 and knocked at the door, whereupon the portress came out and opened. Then Ja’afar came forward and kissing the ground before her said, “O my lady, we be merchants from Tiberias town: we arrived at Baghdad ten days ago; and, alighting at the mer chants’ caravanserai, we sold all our merchandise. Now a certain trader invited us to an entertainment this night; so we went to his house and he set food before us and we ate: then we sat at wine and wassail with him for an hour or so when he gave us leave to depart; and we went out from him in the shadow of the night and, being strangers, we could not find our way back to our Khan. So haply of your kindness and courtesy you will suffer us to tarry with you this night, and Heaven will reward you!”11 The portress looked upon them and seeing them dressed like merchants and men of grave looks and solid, she returned to her sisters and repeated to them Ja’afar’s story; and they took compassion upon the strangers and said to her, “Let them enter.” She opened the door to them, when said they to her, “Have we thy leave to come in?” “Come in,” quoth she; and the Caliph entered followed by Ja’afar and Masrur; and when the girls saw them they stood up to them in respect and made them sit down and looked to their wants, saying, “Welcome, and well come and good cheer to the guests, but with one condition!” “What is that?” asked they, and one of the ladies answered, “Speak not of what concerneth you not, lest ye hear what pleaseth you not.” “Even so,” said they; and sat down to their wine and drank deep. Presently the Caliph looked on the three Kalandars and, seeing them each and every blind of the left eye, wondered at the sight; then he gazed upon the girls and he was startled and he marvelled with exceeding marvel at their beauty and loveliness. They continued to carouse and to converse and said to the Caliph, “Drink!” but he replied, “I am vowed to Pilgrimage;”12 and drew back from the wine. Thereupon the portress rose and spreading before him a table cloth worked with gold, set thereon a porcelain bowl into which she poured willow flower water with a lump of snow and a spoonful of sugar candy. The Caliph thanked her and said in himself,“By Allah, I will recompense her to morrow for the kind deed she hath done.” The others again addressed themselves to conversing and carousing; and, when the wine get the better of them, the eldest lady who ruled the house rose and making obeisance to them took the cateress by the hand, and said, “Rise, O my sister and let us do what is our devoir.” Both answered “Even so!” Then the portress stood up and proceeded to remove the table service and the remnants of the banquet; and renewed the pastiles and cleared the middle of the saloon. Then she made the Kalandars sit upon a sofa at the side of the estrade, and seated the Caliph and Ja’afar and Masrur on the other side of the saloon; after which she called the Porter, and said, “How scanty is thy courtesy! now thou art no stranger; nay, thou art one of the household.” So he stood up and, tightening his waist cloth, asked, “What would ye I do?” and she answered, “Stand in thy place.” Then the procuratrix rose and set in the midst of the saloon a low chair and, opening a closet, cried to the Porter, “Come help me.” So he went to help her and saw two black bitches with chains round their necks; and she said to him, “Take hold of them;” and he took them and led them into the middle of the saloon. Then the lady of the house arose and tucked up her sleeves above her wrists and, seizing a scourge, said to the Porter, “Bring forward one of the bitches.” He brought her forward, dragging her by the chain, while the bitch wept, and shook her head at the lady who, however, came down upon her with blows on the sconce; and the bitch howled and the lady ceased not beating her till her forearm failed her. Then, casting the scourge from her hand, she pressed the bitch to her bosom and, wiping away her tears with her hands, kissed her head. Then she said to the Porter, “Take her away and bring the second;” and, when he brought her, she did with her as she had done with the first. Now the heart of the Caliph, was touched at these cruel doings; his chest straitened and he lost all patience in his desire to know why the two bitches were so beaten. He threw a wink at Ja’afar wishing him to ask, but; the Minister turning towards him said by signs, “Be silent!” Then quoth the portress to the mistress of the house, “O my lady, arise and go to thy place that I in turn may do my devoir.”13 She answered, “Even so”; and, taking her seat upon the couch of juniper wood, pargetted with gold and silver, said to the portress and cateress, “Now do ye what ye have to do.” Thereupon the portress sat upon a low seat by the couch side; but the procuretrix, entering a closet, brought out of it a bag of satin with green fringes and two tassels of gold. She stood up before the lady of the house and shaking the bag drew out from it a lute which she tuned by tightening its pegs; and when it was in perfect order, she began to sing these quatrains:—
“Ye are the wish, the aim of me
And when, O Love, thy sight I see14
The heavenly mansion openeth;15
But Hell I see when lost thy sight.
From thee comes madness; nor the less
Comes highest joy, comes ecstasy:
Nor in my love for thee I fear
Or shame and blame, or hate and spite.
When Love was throned within my heart
I rent the veil of modesty;
And stints not Love to rend that veil
Garring disgrace on grace to alight;
The robe of sickness then I donned
But rent to rags was secrecy:
Wherefore my love and longing heart
Proclaim your high supremest might;
The tear drop railing adown my cheek
Telleth my tale of ignomy:
And all the hid was seen by all
And all my riddle ree’d aright.
Heal then my malady, for thou
Art malady and remedy! But she whose cure is in thy hand
Shall ne’er be free of bane and blight;
Burn me those eyne that radiance rain
Slay me the swords of phantasy;
How many hath the sword of Love
Laid low, their high degree despite?
Yet will I never cease to pine
Nor to oblivion will I flee. Love is my health, my faith, my joy
Public and private, wrong or right.
O happy eyes that sight thy charms
That gaze upon thee at their gree!
Yea, of my purest wish and will
The slave of Love I’ll aye be hight.”
When the damsel heard this elegy in quatrains she cried out “Alas! Alas!” and rent her raiment, and fell to the ground fainting; and the Caliph saw scars of the palm rod16 on her back and welts of the whip; and marvelled with exceeding wonder. Then the portress arose and sprinkled water on her and brought her a fresh and very fine dress and put it on her. But when the company beheld these doings their minds were troubled, for they had no inkling of the case nor knew the story thereof; so the Caliph said to Ja’afar, “Didst thou not see the scars upon the damsel’s body? I cannot keep silence or be at rest till I learn the truth of her condition and the story of this other maiden and the secret of the two black bitches.” But Ja’afar answered, “O our lord, they made it a condition with us that we speak not of what concerneth us not, lest we come to hear what pleaseth us not.” Then said the portress “By Allah, O my sister, come to me and complete this service for me.” Replied the procuratrix, “With joy and goodly gree;” so she took the lute; and leaned it against her breasts and swept the strings with her finger tips, and began singing:—
“Give back mine eyes their sleep long ravished
And say me whither be my reason fled:
I learnt that lending to thy love a place
Sleep to mine eyelids mortal foe was made.
They said, “We held thee righteous, who waylaid
Thy soul?” “Go ask his glorious eyes,” I said.
I pardon all my blood he pleased to spill
Owning his troubles drove him blood to shed.
On my mind’s mirror sun like sheen he cast
Whose keen reflection fire in vitals bred
Waters of Life let Allah waste at will
Suffice my wage those lips of dewy red:
An thou address my love thou’lt find a cause
For plaint and tears or ruth or lustihed.
In water pure his form shall greet your eyne
When fails the bowl nor need ye drink of wine.17”
Then she quoted from the same ode:—
“I drank, but the draught of his glance, not wine,
And his swaying gait swayed to sleep these eyne:
’Twas not grape juice grips me but grasp of Past
’Twas not bowl o’erbowled me but gifts divine:
His coiling curl-lets my soul ennetted
And his cruel will all my wits outwitted.18”
After a pause she resumed:—
“If we ‘plain of absence what shall we say?
Or if pain afflict us where wend our way?
An I hire a truchman19 to tell my tale
The lover’s plaint is not told for pay:
If I put on patience, a lover’s life
After loss of love will not last a day:
Naught is left me now but regret, repine
And tears flooding cheeks for ever and aye:
O thou who the babes of these eyes20 hast deaf
Thou art homed in heart that shall never stray
Would heaven I wot hast thou kept our pact
Long as stream shall cow, to have firmest fey?
Or hast forgotten the weeping slave
Whom groans afflict and whom griefs waylay?
Ah, when severance ends and we side by side
Couch, I’ll blame thy rigours and chide thy pride!”
Now when the portress heard her second ode she shrieked aloud and said, “By Allah! ’tis right good!”; and laying hands on her garments tore them, as she did the first time, and fell to the ground fainting. Thereupon the procuratrix rose end brought her a second change of clothes after she had sprinkled water on her. She recovered and sat upright and said to her sister the cateress, “Onwards, and help me in my duty, for there remains but this one song.” So the provisioneress again brought out the lute and began to sing these verses:—
“How long shall last, how long this rigour rife of woe
May not suffice thee all these tears thou seest flow?
Our parting thus with purpose fell thou cost prolong
Is’t not enough to glad the heart of envious foe?
Were but this Iying world once true to lover heart
He had not watched the weary night in tears of woe:
Oh pity me whom overwhelmed thy cruel will
My lord, my king, ’tis time some ruth to me thou show:
To whom reveal my wrongs, O thou who murdered me?
Sad, who of broken troth the pangs must undergo!
Increase wild love for thee and phrenzy hour by hour
And days of exile minute by so long, so slow;
O Moslems, claim vendetta21 for this slave of Love
Whose sleep Love ever wastes, whose patience Love lays low:
Doth law of Love allow thee, O my wish! to lie
Lapt in another’s arms and unto me cry Go!?
Yet in thy presence, say, what joys shall I enjoy
When he I love but works my love to overthrow?”
When the portress heard the third song she cried aloud; and, laying hands on her garments, rent them down to the very skirt and fell to the ground fainting a third time, again showing the scars of the scourge. Then said the three Kalandars, “Would Heaven we had never entered this house, but had rather righted on the mounds and heaps outside the city! for verily our visit hath been troubled by sights which cut to the heart.” The Caliph turned to them and asked, “Why so?” and they made answer, “Our minds are sore troubled by this matter.” Quoth the Caliph, “Are ye not of the household?” and quoth they, “No; nor indeed did we ever set eyes on the place till within this hour.” Hereat the Caliph marvelled and rejoined, “This man who sitteth by you, would he not know the secret of the matter?” and so saying he winked and made signs at the Porter. So they questioned the man but he replied, “By the All might of Allah, in love all are alike!22 I am the growth of Baghdad, yet never in my born days did I darken these doors till to day and my companying with them was a curious matter.” “By Allah,” they rejoined, “we took thee for one of them and now we see thou art one like ourselves.” Then said the Caliph, “We be seven men, and they only three women without even a fourth to help them; so let us question them of their case; and, if they answer us not, fain we will be answered by force.” All of them agreed to this except Ja’afar who said,23 “This is not my recking; let them be; for we are their guests and, as ye know, they made a compact and condition with us which we accepted and promised to keep: wherefore it is better that we be silent concerning this matter; and, as but little of the night remaineth, let each and every of us gang his own gait.” Then he winked at the Caliph and whispered to him, “There is but one hour of darkness left and I can bring them before thee to morrow, when thou canst freely question them all concerning their story.” But the Caliph raised his head haughtily and cried out at him in wrath, saying, “I have no patience left for my longing to hear of them: let the Kalandars question them forthright.” Quoth Ja’afar, “This is not my rede.” Then words ran high and talk answered talk, and they disputed as to who should first put the question, but at last all fixed upon the Porter. And as the jingle increased the house mistress could not but notice it and asked them, “O ye folk! on what matter are ye talking so loudly?” Then the Porter stood up respectfully before her and said, “O my lady, this company earnestly desire that thou acquaint them with the story of the two bitches and what maketh thee punish them so cruelly; and then thou fallest to weeping over them and kissing them; and lastly they want to hear the tale of thy sister and why she hath been bastinado’d with palm sticks like a man. These are the questions they charge me to put, and peace be with thee.”24 Thereupon quoth she who was the lady of the house to the guests, “Is this true that he saith on your part?” and all replied, “Yes!” save Ja’afar who kept silence. When she heard these words she cried, “By Allah, ye have wronged us, O our guests. with grievous wronging; for when you came before us we made compact and condition with you, that whoso should speak of what concerneth him not should hear what pleaseth him not. Sufficeth ye not that we took you into our house and fed you with our best food? But the fault is not so much yours as hers who let you in.” Then she tucked up her sleeves from her wrists and struck the floor thrice with her hand crying, “Come ye quickly;” and lo! a closet door opened and out of it came seven negro slaves with drawn swords in hand to whom she said, “Pinion me those praters’ elbows and bind them each to each.” They did her bidding and asked her, “O veiled and virtuous! is it thy high command that we strike off their heads?”; but she answered, “Leave them awhile that I question them of their condition, before their necks feel the sword.” “By Allah, O my lady!” cried the Porter, “slay me not for other’s sin; all these men offended and deserve the penalty of crime save myself. Now by Allah, our night had been charming had we escaped the mortification of those monocular Kalandars whose entrance into a populous city would convert it into a howling wilderness.” Then he repeated these verses:
“How fair is ruth the strong man deigns not smother!
And fairest fair when shown to weakest brother:
By Love’s own holy tie between us twain,
Let one not suffer for the sin of other.”
When the Porter ended his verse the lady laughed And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “ln the name of Allah,” is here a civil form of dismissal.
2 Lane (i. 124) is scandalised and naturally enough by this scene, which is the only blot in an admirable tale admirably told. Yet even here the grossness is but little more pronounced than what we find in our old drama (e. g., Shakespeare’s King Henry V.) written for the stage, whereas tales like The Nights are not read or recited before both sexes. Lastly “nothing follows all this palming work:” in Europe the orgie would end very differently. These “nuns of Theleme” are physically pure: their debauchery is of the mind, not the body. Galland makes them five, including the two doggesses.
3 So Sir Francis Walsingham’s “They which do that they should not, should hear that they would not.”
4 The old “Calendar,” pleasantly associated with that form of almanac. The Mac. Edit. has Karandaliyah,” a vile corruption, like Ibn Batutah’s “Karandar” and Torrens’ “Kurundul:” so in English we have the accepted vulgarism of “Kernel” for Colonel. The Bull Edit. uses for synonym “Su’ulúk”=an asker, a beggar. Of these mendicant monks, for such they are, much like the Sarabaites of mediæval Europe, I have treated and of their institutions and its founder, Shaykh Sharif Bu Ali Kalandar (ob. A. H. 724 =1323–24), at some length in my “History of Sindh,” chaps. viii. See also the Dabistan (i. 136) where the good Kalandar exclaims:—
If the thorn break in my body, how trifling the pain!
But how sorely I feel for the poor broken thorn!
D’Herbelot is right when he says that the Kalandar is not generally approved by Moslems: he labours to win free from every form and observance and he approaches the Malámati who conceals all his good deeds and boasts of his evil doings — our “Devil’s hypocrite.”
5 The “Kalandar” disfigures himself in this manner to show “mortification.”
6 Arab. “Gharíb:” the porter is offended because the word implies “poor devil;” esp. one out of his own country.
7 A religious mendicant generally.
8 Very scandalous to Moslem “respectability” Mohammed said the house was accursed when the voices of women could be heard out of doors. Moreover the neighbours have a right to interfere and abate the scandal.
9 I need hardly say that these are both historical personages; they will often be mentioned, and Ja’afar will be noticed in the Terminal Essay.
10 Arab. “Same ‘an wa tá‘atan”; a popular phrase of assent generally translated “to hear is to obey;” but this formula may be and must be greatly varied. In places it means “Hearing (the word of Allah) and obeying” (His prophet, viceregent, etc.)
11 Arab. “Sawáb”==reward in Heaven. This word for which we have no equivalent has been naturalized in all tongues (e. g. Hindostani) spoken by Moslems.
12 Wine-drinking, at all times forbidden to Moslems, vitiates the Pilgrimage rite: the Pilgrim is vowed to a strict observance of the ceremonial law and many men date their “reformation” from the “Hajj.” Pilgrimage, iii., 126.
13 Here some change has been necessary; as the original text confuses the three “ladies.”
14 In Arab. the plural masc. is used by way of modesty when a girl addresses her lover and for the same reason she speaks of herself as a man.
15 Arab. “Al–Na’ím”, in ful “Jannat-al-Na’ím” = the Garden of Delights, i.e. the fifth Heaven made of white silver. The generic name of Heaven (the place of reward) is “Jannat,” lit. a garden; “Firdaus” being evidently derived from the Persian through the Greek {Greek Letters}, and meaning a chase, a hunting park. Writers on this subject should bear in mind Mandeville’s modesty, “Of Paradise I cannot speak properly, for I was not there.”
16 Arab. “Mikra’ah,” the dried mid-rib of a date-frond used for many purposes, especially the bastinado.
17 According to Lane (i., 229) these and the immediately following verses are from an ode by Ibn Sahl al-Ishbili. They are in the Bull Edit. not the Mac. Edit.
18 The original is full of conceits and plays on words which are not easily rendered in English.
19 Arab. “Tarjumán,” same root as Chald. Targum ( = a translation), the old “Truchman,” and through the Ital. “tergomano” our “Dragoman,” here a messenger.
20 Lit. the “person of the eyes,” our “babe of the eyes,” a favourite poetical conceit in all tongues; much used by the Elizabethans, but now neglected as a silly kind of conceit. See Night ccix.
21 Arab. “Sár” (Thár) the revenge-right recognised by law and custom (Pilgrimage, iii., 69).
22 That is “We all swim in the same boat.”
23 Ja’afar ever acts, on such occasions, the part of a wise and sensible man compelled to join in a foolish frolic. He contrasts strongly with the Caliph, a headstrong despot who will not be gainsaid, whatever be the whim of the moment. But Easterns would look upon this as a proof of his “kingliness.”
24 Arab. “Wa’l — Salám” (pronounced Was–Salám); meaning “and here ends the matter.” In our slang we say “All right, and the child’s name is Antony.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the lady, after laughing at the Porter despite her wrath, came up to the party and spake thus, “Tell me who ye be, for ye have but an hour of life; and were ye not men of rank and, perhaps, notables of your tribes, you had not been so froward and I had hastened your doom.” Then said the Caliph, “Woe to thee, O Ja’afar, tell her who we are lest we be slain by mistake; and speak her fair be fore some horror befal us.” “’Tis part of thy deserts,“replied he; whereupon the Caliph cried out at him saying, “There is a time for witty words and there is a time for serious work.” Then the lady accosted the three Kalandars and asked them, “Are ye brothers?”; when they answered, “No, by Allah, we be naught but Fakirs and foreigners.” Then quoth she to one among them, “West thou born blind of one eye?”; and quoth he, “No, by Allah, ’twas a marvellous matter and a wondrous mischance which caused my eye to be torn out, and mine is a tale which, if it were written upon the eye corners with needle gravers, were a warner to whoso would be warned.”1 She questioned the second and third Kalandar; but all replied like the first, “By Allah, O our mistress, each one of us cometh from a different country, and we are all three the sons of Kings, sovereign Princes ruling over suzerains and capital cities.” Thereupon she turned towards them and said, “Let each and every of you tell me his tale in due order and explain the cause of his coming to our place; and if his story please us let him stroke his head2 and wend his way.” The first to come forward was the Hammal, the Porter, who said, “O my lady, I am a man and a porter. This dame, the cateress, hired me to carry a load and took me first to the shop of a vintner, then to the booth of a butcher; thence to the stall of a fruiterer; thence to a grocer who also sold dry fruits; thence to a confectioner and a perfumer cum druggist and from him to this place where there happened to me with you what happened. Such is my story and peace be on us all!” At this the lady laughed and said, “Rub thy head and wend thy ways!”; but he cried, “By Allah, I will not stump it till I hear the stories of my companions.” Then came forward one of the Monoculars and began to tell her
1 This is a favourite jingle, the play being upon “ibrat” (a needle-graver) and “ ‘ibrat” (an example, a warning).
2 That is “make his bow,” as the English peasant pulls his forelock. Lane (i., 249) suggests, as an afterthought, that it means:—“Recover thy senses; in allusion to a person’s drawing his hand over his head after sleep or a fit.” But it occurs elsewhere in he sense of “cut thy stick.”
Know, O my lady, that the cause of my beard being shorn and my eye being out torn was as follows. My father was a King and he had a brother who was a King over another city; and it came to pass that I and my cousin, the son of my paternal uncle, were both born on one and the same day. And years and days rolled on; and, as we grew up, I used to visit my uncle every now and then and to spend a certain number of months with him. Now my cousin and I were sworn friends; for he ever entreated me with exceeding kindness; he killed for me the fattest sheep and strained the best of his wines, and we enjoyed long conversing and carousing. One day when the wine had gotten the better of us, the son of my uncle said to me, “O my cousin, I have a great service to ask of thee; and I desire that thou stay me not in whatso I desire to do!” And I replied, “With joy and goodly will.” Then he made me swear the most binding oaths and left me; but after a little while he returned leading a lady veiled and richly apparelled with ornaments worth a large sum of money. Presently he turned to me (the woman being still behind him) and said, “Take this lady with thee and go before me to such a burial ground” (describing it, so that I knew the place), “and enter with her into such a sepulchre1 and there await my coming.” The oaths I swore to him made me keep silence and suffered me not to oppose him; so I led the woman to the cemetery and both I and she took our seats in the sepulchre; and hardly had we sat down when in came my uncle’s son, with a bowl of water, a bag of mortar and an adze somewhat like a hoe. He went straight to the tomb in the midst of the sepulchre and, breaking it open with the adze set the stones on one side; then he fell to digging into the earth of the tomb till he came upon a large iron plate, the size of a wicket door; and on raising it there appeared below it a staircase vaulted and winding. Then he turned to the lady and said to her, “Come now and take thy final choice!” She at once went down by the staircase and disappeared; then quoth he to me, “O son of my uncle, by way of completing thy kindness, when I shall have descended into this place, restore the trap door to where it was, and heap back the earth upon it as it lay before; and then of thy goodness mix this unslaked lime which is in the bag with this water which is in the bowl and, after building up the stones, plaster the outside so that none looking upon it shall say:— This is a new opening in an old tomb. For a whole year have I worked at this place whereof none knoweth but Allah, and this is the need I have of thee;” presently adding, “May Allah never bereave thy friends of thee nor make them desolate by thine absence, O son of my uncle, O my dear cousin!” And he went down the stairs and disappeared for ever. When he was lost to sight I replaced the iron plate and did all his bidding till the tomb became as it was before and I worked almost unconsciously for my head was heated with wine. Returning to the palace of my uncle, I was told that he had gone forth a-sporting and hunting; so I slept that night without seeing him; and, when the morning dawned, I remembered the scenes of the past evening and what happened between me and my cousin; I repented of having obeyed him when penitence was of no avail, I still thought, however, that it was a dream. So I fell to asking for the son of my uncle; but there was none to answer me concerning him; and I went out to the grave-yard and the sepulchres, and sought for the tomb under which he was, but could not find it; and I ceased not wandering about from sepulchre to sepulchre, and tomb to tomb, all without success, till night set in. So I returned to the city, yet I could neither eat nor drink; my thoughts being engrossed with my cousin, for that I knew not what was become of him; and I grieved with exceeding grief and passed another sorrowful night, watching until the morning. Then went I a second time to the cemetery, pondering over what the son of mine uncle had done; and, sorely repenting my hearkening to him, went round among all the tombs, but could not find the tomb I sought. I mourned over the past, and remained in my mourning seven days, seeking the place and ever missing the path. Then my torture of scruples2 grew upon me till I well nigh went mad, and I found no way to dispel my grief save travel and return to my father. So I set out and journeyed homeward; but as I was entering my father’s capital a crowd of rioters sprang upon me and pinioned me.3 I wondered thereat with all wonderment, seeing that I was the son of the Sultan, and these men were my father’s subjects and amongst them were some of my own slaves. A great fear fell upon me, and I said to my soul,4 “Would heaven I knew what hath happened to my father!” I questioned those that bound me of the cause of their doing, but they returned me no answer. However, after a while one of them said to me (and he had been a hired servant of our house), “Fortune hath been false to thy father; his troops betrayed him and the Wazir who slew him now reigneth in his stead and we lay in wait to seize thee by the bidding of him.” I was well nigh distraught and felt ready to faint on hearing of my father’s death; when they carried me off and placed me in presence of the usurper. Now between me and him there was an olden grudge, the cause of which was this. I was fond of shooting with the stone bow,5 and it befel one day as I was standing on the terrace roof of the palace, that a bird lighted on the top of the Wazir’s house when he happened to be there. I shot at the bird and missed the mark; but I hit the Wazir’s eye and knocked it out as fate and fortune decreed. Even so saith the poet:—
We tread the path where Fate hath led
The path Fate writ we fain must tread:
And man in one land doomed to die
Death no where else shall do him dead.
And on like wise saith another:—
Let Fortune have her wanton way
Take heart and all her words obey:
Nor joy nor mourn at anything
For all things pass and no things stay.
Now when I knocked out the Wazir’s eye he could not say a single word, for that my father was King of the city; but he hated me everafter and dire was the grudge thus caused between us twain. So when I was set before him hand bound and pinioned, he straightway gave orders for me to be beheaded. I asked, “For what crime wilt thou put me to death?”; whereupon he answered, “What crime is greater than this?” pointing the while to the place where his eye had been Quoth I, “This I did by accident not of malice prepense;” and quoth he, “If thou didst it by accident, I will do the like by thee with intention.’’6 Then cried he, “Bring him forward,” and they brought me up to him, when he thrust his finger into my left eye and gouged it out; whereupon I became one eyed as ye see me. Then he bade bind me hand and foot, and put me into a chest and said to the sworder, “Take charge of this fellow, and go off with him to the waste lands about the city; then draw thy scymitar and slay him, and leave him to feed the beasts and birds.” So the headsman fared forth with me and when he was in the midst of the desert, he took me out of the chest (and I with both hands pinioned and both feet fettered) and was about to bandage my eyes before striking off my head. But I wept with exceeding weeping until I made him weep with me and, looking at him I began to recite these couplets:—
“I deemed you coat o’ mail that should withstand
The foeman’s shafts, and you proved foeman’s brand
I hoped your aidance in mine every chance
Though fail my left to aid my dexter hand:
Aloof you stand and hear the railer’s gibe
While rain their shafts on me the giber-band:
But an ye will not guard me from my foes
Stand clear, and succour neither these nor those!”
And I also quoted:—
“I deemed my brethren mail of strongest steel
And so they were — from foes I to fend my dart!
I deemed their arrows surest of their aim;
And so they were– when aiming at my heart!”
When the headsman heard my lines (he had been sworder to my sire and he owed me a debt of gratitude) he cried, “O my lord, what can I do, being but a slave under orders?” presently adding, “Fly for thy life and nevermore return to this land, or they will slay thee and slay me with thee, even as the poet said:—
Take thy life and fly whenas evils threat;
Let the ruined house tell its owner’s fate:
New land for the old thou shalt seek and find
But to find new life thou must not await.
Strange that men should sit in the stead of shame,
When Allah’s world is so wide and great!
And trust not other, in matters grave
Life itself must act for a life beset:
Ne’er would prowl the lion with maned neck,
Did he reckon on aid or of others reck.”
Hardly believing in my escape, I kissed his hand and thought the loss of my eye a light matter in consideration of my escaping from being slain. I arrived at my uncle’s capital; and, going in to him, told him of what had befallen my father and myself; whereat he wept with sore weeping and said, “Verily thou addest grief to my grief, and woe to my woe; for thy cousin hath been missing these many days; I wot not what hath happened to him, and none can give me news of him.” And he wept till he fainted. I sorrowed and condoled with him; and he would have applied certain medicaments to my eye, but he saw that it was become as a walnut with the shell empty. Then said he, “O my son, better to lose eye and keep life!” After that I could no longer remain silent about my cousin, who was his only son and one dearly loved, so I told him all that had happened. He rejoiced with extreme joyance to hear news of his son and said, “Come now and show me the tomb;” but I replied, “By Allah, O my uncle, I know not its place, though I sought it carefully full many times, yet could not find the site.” However, I and my uncle went to the grave yard and looked right and left, till at last I recognised the tomb and we both rejoiced with exceeding joy. We entered the sepulchre and loosened the earth about the grave; then, up raising the trap door, descended some fifty steps till we came to the foot of the staircase when lo! we were stopped by a blinding smoke. Thereupon said my uncle that saying whose sayer shall never come to shame, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” and we advanced till we suddenly came upon a saloon, whose floor was strewed with flour and grain and provisions and all manner necessaries; and in the midst of it stood a canopy sheltering a couch. Thereupon my uncle went up to the couch and inspecting it found his son and the lady who had gone down with him into the tomb, lying in each other’s embrace; but the twain had become black as charred wood; it was as if they had been cast into a pit of fire. When my uncle saw this spectacle, he spat in his son’s face and said, “Thou hast thy deserts, O thou hog!7 this is thy judgment in the transitory world, and yet remaineth the judgment in the world to come, a durer and a more enduring “— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This would be a separate building like our family tomb and probably domed, resembling that mentioned in “The King of the Black Islands.” Europeans usually call it “a little Wali;” or, as they write it, “Wely,” the contained for the container; the “Santon” for the “Santon’s tomb.” I have noticed this curious confusion (which begins with Robinson, i. 322) in “Unexplored Syria,” i. 161.
2 Arab. “Wiswás,” = diabolical temptation or suggestion. The “Wiswásí” is a man with scruples (scrupulus, a pebble in the shoe), e.g. one who fears that his ablutions were deficient, etc.
3 Arab. “Katf” = pinioning by tying the arms behind the back and shoulders (Kitf) a dire disgrace to free-born men.
4 Arab. “Nafs.”=Hebr. Nephesh (Nafash) =soul, life as opposed to “Ruach”= spirit and breath. In these places it is equivalent to “I said to myself.” Another form of the root is “Nafas,” breath, with an idea of inspiration: so ‘Sáhib Nafas” ( = master of breath) is a minor saint who heals by expiration, a matter familiar to mesmerists (Pilgrimage, i., 86).
5 Arab. “Kaus al-Banduk;” the “pellet bow” of modern India; with two strings joined by a bit of cloth which supports a ball of dry clay or stone. It is chiefly used for birding.
6 In the East blinding was a common practice, especially in the case of junior princes not required as heirs. A deep perpendicular incision was made down each corner of the yes; the lids were lifted and the balls removed by cutting the optic nerve and the muscles. The later Caliphs blinded their victims by passing a red-hot sword blade close to the orbit or a needle over the eye-ball. About the same time in Europe the operation was performed with a heated metal basin — the well known bacinare (used by Ariosto), as happened to Pier delle Vigne (Petrus de Vineâ), the “godfather of modern Italian.”
7 Arab. “Khinzír” (by Europeans pronounced “Hanzír”), prop. a wild-boar, but popularly used like our “you pig!”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Kalandar thus went on with his story before the lady and the Caliph and Ja’afar:— My uncle struck his son with his slipper1 as he lay there a black heap of coal. I marvelled at his hardness of heart, and grieving for my cousin and the lady, said, “By Allah, O my uncle, calm thy wrath: cost thou not see that all my thoughts are occupied with this misfortune, and how sorrowful I am for what hath befallen thy son, and how horrible it is that naught of him remaineth but a black heap of charcoal? And is not that enough, but thou must smite him with thy slipper?” Answered he,“O son of my brother, this youth from his boyhood was madly in love with his own sister;2 and often and often I forbade him from her, saying to myself:— They are but little ones. However, when they grew up sin befel between them; and, although I could hardly believe it, I confined him and chided him and threatened him with the severest threats; and the eunuchs and servants said to him:— Beware of so foul a thing which none be fore thee ever did, and which none after thee will ever do; and have a care lest thou be dishonoured and disgraced among the Kings of the day, even to the end of time. And I added:— Such a report as this will be spread abroad by caravans, and take heed not to give them cause to talk or I will assuredly curse thee and do thee to death. After that I lodged them apart and shut her up; but the accursed girl loved him with passionate love, for Satan had got the mastery of her as well as of him and made their foul sin seem fair in their sight. Now when my son saw that I separated them, he secretly built this souterrain and furnished it and transported to it victuals, even as thou seest; and, when I had gone out a-sporting, came here with his sister and hid from me. Then His righteous judgment fell upon the twain and consumed them with fire from Heaven; and verily the last judgment will deal them durer pains and more enduring!” Then he wept and I wept with him; and he looked at me and said, “Thou art my son in his stead.” And I bethought me awhile of the world and of its chances, how the Wazir had slain my father and had taken his place and had put out my eye; and how my cousin had come to his death by the strangest chance: and I wept again and my uncle wept with me. Then we mounted the steps and let down the iron plate and heaped up the earth over it; and, after restoring the tomb to its former condition, we returned to the palace. But hardly had we sat down ere we heard the tomtoming of the kettle drum and tantara of trumpets and clash of cymbals; and the rattling of war men’s lances; and the clamours of assailants and the clanking of bits and the neighing of steeds; while the world was canopied with dense dust and sand clouds raised by the horses’ hoofs.3 We were amazed at sight and sound, knowing not what could be the matter; so we asked and were told us that the Wazir who usurped my father’s kingdom had marched his men; and that after levying his soldiery and taking a host of wild Arabs4 into service, he had come down upon us with armies like the sands of the sea; their number none could tell and against them none could prevail. They attacked the city unawares; and the citizens, being powerless to oppose them, surrendered the place: my uncle was slain and I made for the suburbs saying to myself, “If thou fall into this villain’s hands he will assuredly kill thee.” On this wise all my troubles were renewed; and I pondered all that had betided my father and my uncle and I knew not what to do; for if the city people or my father’s troops had recognised me they would have done their best to win favour by destroying me; and I could think of no way to escape save by shaving off my beard and my eyebrows. So I shore them off and, changing my fine clothes for a Kalandar’s rags, I fared forth from my uncle’s capital and made for this city; hoping that peradventure some one would assist me to the presence of the Prince of the Faithful,5 and the Caliph who is the Viceregent of Allah upon earth. Thus have I come hither that I might tell him my tale and lay my case before him. I arrived here this very night, and was standing in doubt whither I should go, when suddenly I saw this second Kalandar; so I salam’d to him saying —“I am a stranger!” and he answered:—“I too am a stranger!” And as we were conversing behold, up came our companion, this third Kalandar, and saluted us saying:—“I am a stranger!” And we answered:—“We too be strangers!” Then we three walked on and together till darkness overtook us and Destiny crave us to your house. Such, then, is the cause of the shaving of my beard and mustachios and eyebrows; and the manner of my losing my right eye. They marvelled much at this tale and the Caliph said to Ja’afar, “By Allah, I have not seen nor have I heard the like of what hath happened to this Kalandar!” Quoth the lady of the house, “Rub thy head and wend thy ways;” but he replied, “I will not go, till I hear the history of the two others.” Thereupon the second Kalandar came forward; and, kissing the ground, began to tell
1 Striking with the shoe, the pipe-stick and similar articles is highly insulting, because they are not made, like whips and scourges, for such purpose. Here the East and the West differ diametrically. “Wounds which are given by instruments which are in one’s hands by chance do not disgrace a man,” says Cervantes (D. Q. i., chaps. 15), and goes on to prove that if a Zapatero (cobbler) cudgel another with his form or last, the latter must not consider himself cudgelled. The reverse in the East where a blow of a pipe stick cost Mahommed Ali Pasha’s son his life: Ishmail Pasha was burned to death by Malik Nimr, chief of Shendy (Pilgrimage, i., 203). Moreover, the actual wound is less considered in Moslem law than the instrument which caused it: so sticks and stones are venial weapons, whilst sword and dagger, gun and pistol are felonious. See ibid. (i., 336) for a note upon the weapons with which nations are policed.
2 Incest is now abominable everywhere except amongst the overcrowded poor of great and civilised cities. Yet such unions were common and lawful amongst ancient and highly cultivated peoples, as the Egyptians (Isis and Osiris), Assyrians and ancient Persians. Physiologically they are injurious only when the parents have constitutional defects: if both are sound, the issue, as amongst the so-called “lower animals “ is viable and healthy.
3 Dwellers in the Northern Temperates can hardly imagine what a dust-storm is in sun parched tropical lands. In Sind we were often obliged to use candles at mid-day, while above the dust was a sun that would roast an egg.
4 Arab. “ ‘Urban,” now always used of the wild people, whom the French have taught us to call les Bedouins; “Badw” being a waste or desert, and Badawi (fem. Badawíyah, plur. Badáwi and Bidwán), a man of the waste. Europeans have also learnt to miscall the Egyptians “Arabs”: the difference is as great as between an Englishman and a Spaniard. Arabs proper divide their race into sundry successive families. “The Arab al-Arabá” (or al — Aribah, or al-Urubíyat) are the autochthones, prehistoric, proto-historic and extinct tribes; for instance, a few of the Adites who being at Meccah escaped the destruction of their wicked nation, but mingled with other classes. The “Arab al-Muta’arribah,” (Arabised Arabs) are the first advenæ represented by such noble strains as the Koraysh (Koreish), some still surviving. The “Arab al-Musta’aribah” (insititious, naturalized or instituted Arabs, men who claim to be Arabs) are Arabs like the Sinaites, the Egyptians and the Maroccans descended by intermarriage with other races. Hence our “Mosarabians” and the “Marrabais” of Rabelais (not, “a word compounded of Maurus and Arabs”). Some genealogists, however, make the Muta’arribah descendants of Kahtan (possibly the Joktan of Genesis x., a comparatively modern document, B.C. 700?); and the Musta’aribah those descended from Adnán the origin of Arab genealogy. And, lastly, are the “Arab al-Musta’ajimah,” barbarised Arabs, like the present population of Meccah and Al–Medinah. Besides these there are other tribes whose origin is still unknown, such as the Mahrah tribes of Hazramaut, the “Akhdám” (=serviles) of Oman (Maskat); and the “Ebná” of Al–Yaman: Ibn Ishak supposes the latter to be descended from the Persian soldiers of Anushirwan who expelled the Abyssinian invader from Southern Arabia. (Pilgrimage, m., 31, etc.)
5 Arab. “Amír al-Muuminín.” The title was assumed by the Caliph Omar to obviate the inconvenience of calling himself “Khalífah” (successor) of the Khalífah of the Apostle of Allah (i.e. Abu Bakr); which after a few generations would become impossible. It means “Emir (chief or prince) of the Muumins,” men who hold to the (true Moslem) Faith, the “Imán” (theory, fundamental articles) as opposed to the “Dín,” ordinance or practice of the religion. It once became a Wazirial time conferred by Sultan Malikshah (King King — king) on his Nizám al-Murk. (Richardson’s Dissert. [viii.)
Know, O my lady, that I was not born one eyed and mine is a strange story; an it were graven with needle graver on the eye corners, it were a warner to whoso would be warned. I am a King, son of a King, and was brought up like a Prince. I learned intoning the Koran according the seven schools;1 and I read all manner books, and held disputations on their contents with the doctors and men of science; moreover I studied star lore and the fair sayings of poets and I exercised myself in all branches of learning until I surpassed the people of my time; my skill in calligraphy exceeded that of all the scribes; and my fame was bruited abroad over all climes and cities, and all the kings learned to know my name. Amongst others the King of Hind heard of me and sent to my father to invite me to his court, with offerings and presents and rarities such as befit royalties. So my father fitted out six ships for me and my people; and we put to sea and sailed for the space of a full month till we made the land. Then we brought out the horses that were with us in the ships; and, after loading the camels with our presents for the Prince, we set forth inland. But we had marched only a little way, when behold, a dust cloud up flew, and grew until it walled2 the horizon from view. After an hour or so the veil lifted and discovered beneath it fifty horsemen, ravening lions to the sight, in steel armour dight. We observed them straightly and lo! they were cutters off of the highway, wild as wild Arabs. When they saw that we were only four and had with us but the ten camels carrying the presents, they dashed down upon us with lances at rest. We signed to them, with our fingers, as it were saying, “We be messengers of the great King of Hind, so harm us not!” but they answered on like wise, “We are not in his dominions to obey nor are we subject to his sway.” Then they set upon us and slew some of my slaves and put the lave to flight; and I also fled after I had gotten a wound, a grievous hurt, whilst the Arabs were taken up with the money and the presents which were with us. I went forth unknowing whither I went, having become mean as I was mighty; and I fared on until I came to the crest of a mountain where I took shelter for the night in a cave. When day arose I set out again, nor ceased after this fashion till I arrived at a fair city and a well filled. Now it was the season when Winter was turning away with his rime and to greet the world with his flowers came Prime, and the young blooms were springing and the streams flowed ringing, and the birds were sweetly singing, as saith the poet concerning a certain city when describing it:—
A place secure from every thought of fear
Safety and peace for ever lord it here:
Its beauties seem to beautify its sons
And as in Heaven its happy folk appear.
I was glad of my arrival for I was wearied with the way, and yellow of face for weakness and want; but my plight was pitiable and I knew not whither to betake me. So I accosted a Tailor sitting in his little shop and saluted him; he returned my salam, and bade me kindly welcome and wished me well and entreated me gently and asked me of the cause of my strangerhood. I told him all my past from first to last; and he was concerned on my account and said, “O youth, disclose not thy secret to any: the King of this city is the greatest enemy thy father hath, and there is blood wit3 between them and thou hast cause to fear for thy life.” Then he set meat and drink before me; and I ate and drank and he with me; and we conversed freely till night fall, when he cleared me a place in a corner of his shop and brought me a car pet and a coverlet. I tarried with him three days; at the end of which time he said to me, “Knowest thou no calling whereby to win thy living, O my son?” “I am learned in the law,” I replied, “and a doctor of doctrine; an adept in art and science, a mathematician and a notable penman.” He rejoined, “Thy calling is of no account in our city, where not a soul under standeth science or even writing or aught save money making.” Then said I, “By Allah, I know nothing but what I have mentioned;” and he answered, “Gird thy middle and take thee a hatchet and a cord, and go and hew wood in the wold for thy daily bread, till Allah send thee relief; and tell none who thou art lest they slay thee.” Then he bought me an axe and a rope and gave me in charge to certain wood cutters; and with these guardians I went forth into the forest, where I cut fuel wood the whole of my day and came back in the evening bearing my bundle on my head. I sold it for half a diner, with part of which I bought provision and laid by the rest. In such work I spent a whole year and when this was ended I went out one day, as was my wont, into the wilderness; and, wandering away from my companions, I chanced on a thickly grown lowland4 in which there was an abundance of wood. So I entered and I found the gnarled stump of a great tree and loosened the ground about it and shovelled away the earth. Presently my hatchet rang upon a copper ring; so I cleared away the soil and behold, the ring was attached to a wooden trap door. This I raised and there appeared beneath it a staircase. I descended the steps to the bottom and came to a door, which I opened and found myself in a noble hall strong of structure and beautifully built, where was a damsel like a pearl of great price, whose favour banished from my heart all grief and cark and care; and whose soft speech healed the soul in despair and captivated the wise and ware. Her figure measured five feet in height; her breasts were firm and upright; her cheek a very garden of delight; her colour lively bright; her face gleamed like dawn through curly tresses which gloomed like night, and above the snows of her bosom glittered teeth of a pearly white.5 As the poet said of one like her:—
Slim waisted loveling jetty hair encrowned
A wand of willow on a sandy mound:
And as saith another. —
Four things that meet not, save they here unite
To shed my heart blood and to rape my sprite:
Brilliantest forehead; tresses jetty bright;
Cheeks rosy red and stature beauty dight.
When I looked upon her I prostrated myself before Him who had created her, for the beauty and loveliness He had shaped in her, and she looked at me and said, “Art thou man or Jinni?” “I am a man,” answered I, and she, “Now who brought thee to this place where I have abided five and twenty years without even yet seeing man in it?” Quoth I (and indeed I found her words wonder sweet, and my heart was melted to the core by them), “O my lady, my good fortune led me hither for the dispelling of my cark and care.” Then I related to her all my mishap from first to last, and my case appeared to her exceeding grievous; so she wept and said, “I will tell thee my story in my turn. I am the daughter of the King Ifitamus, lord of the Islands of Abnus,6 who married me to my cousin, the son of my paternal uncle; but on my wedding night an Ifrit named Jirjís7 bin Rajmús, first cousin that is, mother’s sister’s son, of Iblís, the Foul Fiend, snatched me up and, flying away with me like a bird, set me down in this place, whither he conveyed all I needed of fine stuffs, raiment and jewels and furniture, and meat and drink and other else. Once in every ten days he comes here and lies a single night with me, and then wends his way, for he took me without the consent of his family; and he hath agreed with me that if ever I need him by night or by day, I have only to pass my hand over yonder two lines engraved upon the alcove, and he will appear to me before my fingers cease touching. Four days have now passed since he was here; and, as there remain six days before he come again, say me, wilt thou abide with me five days, and go hence the day before his coming?” I replied “Yes, and yes again! O rare, if all this be not a dream!” Hereat she was glad and, springing to her feet, seized my hand and carried me through an arched doorway to a Hammam bath, a fair hall and richly decorate. I doffed my clothes, and she doffed hers; then we bathed and she washed me; and when this was done we left the bath, and she seated me by her side upon a high divan, and brought me sherbet scented with musk. When we felt cool after the bath, she set food before me and we ate and fell to talking; but presently she said to me, “Lay thee down and take thy rest, for surely thou must be weary.” So I thanked her, my lady, and lay down and slept soundly, forgetting all that had happened to me. When I awoke I found her rubbing and shampooing my feet;8 so I again thanked her and blessed her and we sat for awhile talking. Said she, “By Allah, I was sad at heart, for that I have dwelt alone underground for these five and twenty years; and praise be to Allah, who hath sent me some one with whom I can converse!” Then she asked, “O youth, what sayest thou to wine?” and I answered, “Do as thou wilt.” Whereupon she went to a cupboard and took out a sealed flask of right old wine and set off the table with flowers and scented herbs and began to sing these lines:—
“Had we known of thy coming we fain had dispread
The cores of our hearts or the balls of our eyes;
Our cheeks as a carpet to greet thee had thrown
And our eyelids had strown for thy feet to betread.”
Now when she finished her verse I thanked her, for indeed love of her had gotten hold of my heart and my grief and anguish were gone. We sat at converse and carousel till nightfall, and with her I spent the night — such night never spent I in all my life! On the morrow delight followed delight till midday, by which time I had drunken wine so freely that I had lost my wits, and stood up, staggering to the right and to the left, and said “Come, O my charmer, and I will carry thee up from this underground vault and deliver thee from the spell of thy Jinni.” She laughed and replied “Content thee and hold thy peace: of every ten days one is for the Ifrit and the other nine are thine.” Quoth I (and in good sooth drink had got the better of me), “This very instant will I break down the alcove whereon is graven the talisman and summon the Ifrit that I may slay him, for it is a practice of mine to slay Ifrits!” When she heard my words her colour waxed wan and she said, “By Allah, do not!” and she began repeating:—
“This is a thing wherein destruction lies
I rede thee shun it an thy wits be wise.”
And these also:—
“O thou who seekest severance, draw the rein
Of thy swift steed nor seek o’ermuch t’ advance;
Ah stay! for treachery is the rule of life,
And sweets of meeting end in severance.”
I heard her verse but paid no heed to her words, nay, I raised my foot and administered to the alcove a mighty kick And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This may also mean “according to the seven editions of the Koran “ the old revisions and so forth (Sale, Sect. iii. and D’Herbelot “Alcoran.”) The schools of the “Mukri,” who teach the right pronunciation wherein a mistake might be sinful, are seven, Harnzah, Ibn Katír, Ya’akúb, Ibn Amir, Kisái, Asim and Hafs, the latter being the favourite with the Hanafis and the only one now generally known in Al–Islam.
2 Arab. “Sadd”=wall, dyke, etc. the “bund” or “band” of Anglo–India. Hence the “Sadd” on the Nile, the banks of grass and floating islands which “wall” the stream. There are few sights more appalling than a sandstorm in the desert, the “Zauba’ah” as the Arabs call it. Devils, or pillars of sand, vertical and inclined, measuring a thousand feet high, rush over the plain lashing the sand at their base like a sea surging under a furious whirlwind; shearing the grass clean away from the roots, tearing up trees, which are whirled like leaves and sticks in air and sweeping away tents and houses as if they were bits of paper. At last the columns join at the top and form, perhaps three thousand feet above the earth, a gigantic cloud of yellow sand which obliterates not only the horizon but even the mid-day sun. These sand-spouts are the terror of travellers. In Sind and the Punjab we have the dust-storm which for darkness, I have said, beats the blackest London fog.
3 Arab. Sár = the vendetta, before mentioned, as dreaded in Arabia as in Corsica.
4 Arab. “Ghútah,” usually a place where irrigation is abundant. It especially applies (in books) to the Damascus-plain because “it abounds with water and fruit trees.” The Ghutah is one of the four earthly paradises, the others being Basrah (Bassorah), Shiraz and Samarcand. Its peculiarity is the likeness to a seaport the Desert which rolls up almost to its doors being the sea and its ships being the camels. The first Arab to whom we owe this admirable term for the “Companion of Job” is “Tarafah” one of the poets of the Suspended Poems: he likens (v. v. 3, 4) the camels which bore away his beloved to ships sailing from Aduli. But “ships of the desert” is doubtless a term of the highest antiquity.
5 The exigencies of the “Saj’a,” or rhymed prose, disjoint this and many similar pas. sages.
6 The “Ebony” Islands; Scott’s “Isle of Ebene,” i., 217.
7 “Jarjarís” in the Bul. Edit.
8 Arab. “Takbís.” Many Easterns can hardly sleep without this kneading of the muscles, this “rubbing” whose hygienic properties England is now learning.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the second Kalandar thus continued his tale to the lady:— But when, O my mistress, I kicked that alcove with a mighty kick, behold, the air starkened and darkened and thundered and lightened; the earth trembled and quaked and the world became invisible. At once the fumes of wine left my head: I cried to her, “What is the matter?” and she replied, “The Ifrit is upon us! did I not warn thee of this? By Allah, thou hast brought ruin upon me; but fly for thy life and go up by the way thou camest down!” So I fled up the staircase; but, in the excess of my fear, I forgot sandals and hatchet. And when I had mounted two steps I turned to look for them, and lo! I saw the earth cleave asunder, and there arose from it an Ifrit, a monster of hideousness, who said to the damsel “What trouble and posher be this wherewith thou disturbest me? What mishap hath betided thee?” “No mishap hath befallen me” she answered, “save that my breast was straitened1 and my heart heavy with sadness! so I drank a little wine to broaden it and to hearten myself; then I rose to obey a call of Nature, but the wine had gotten into my head and I fell against the alcove.” “Thou liest, like the whore thou art!” shrieked the Ifrit; and he looked around the hall right and left till he caught sight of my axe and sandals and said to her, “What be these but the belongings of some mortal who hath been in thy society?” She answered, “I never set eyes upon them till this moment: they must have been brought by thee hither cleaving to thy garments.” Quoth the Ifrit, “These words are absurd; thou harlot! thou strumpet!” Then he stripped her stark naked and, stretching her upon the floor, bound her hands and feet to four stakes, like one crucified;2 and set about torturing and trying to make her confess. I could not bear to stand listening to her cries and groans; so I climbed the stair on the quake with fear; and when I reached the top I replaced the trap door and covered it with earth. Then repented I of what I had done with penitence exceeding; and thought of the lady and her beauty and loveliness, and the tortures she was suffering at the hands of the accursed Ifrit, after her quiet life of five and twenty years; and how all that had happened to her was for the cause of me. I bethought me of my father and his kingly estate and how I had become a woodcutter; and how, after my time had been awhile serene, the world had again waxed turbid and troubled to me. So I wept bitterly and repeated this couplet:—
What time Fate’s tyranny shall most oppress thee
Perpend! one day shall joy thee, one distress thee!
Then I walked till I reached the home of my friend, the Tailor, whom I found most anxiously expecting me; indeed he was, as the saying goes, on coals of fire for my account. And when he saw me he said, “All night long my heart hath been heavy, fearing for thee from wild beasts or other mischances. Now praise be to Allah for thy safety!” I thanked him for his friendly solicitude and, retiring to my corner, sat pondering and musing on what had befallen me; and I blamed and chided myself for my meddlesome folly and my frowardness in kicking the alcove. I was calling myself to account when behold, my friend, the Tailor, came to me and said, “O youth, in the shop there is an old man, a Persian,3 who seeketh thee: he hath thy hatchet and thy sandals which he had taken to the woodcutters,4 saying, “I was going out at what time the Mu’azzin began the call to dawn prayer, when I chanced upon these things and know not whose they are; so direct me to their owner.” The woodcutters recognised thy hatchet and directed him to thee: he is sitting in my shop, so fare forth to him and thank him and take thine axe and sandals.” When I heard these words I turned yellow with fear and felt stunned as by a blow; and, before I could recover myself, lo! the floor of my private room clove asunder, and out of it rose the Persian who was the Ifrit. He had tortured the lady with exceeding tortures, natheless she would not confess to him aught; so he took the hatchet and sandals and said to her, “As surely as I am Jirjis of the seed of Iblis, I will bring thee back the owner of this and these!”5 Then he went to the woodcutters with the presence aforesaid and, being directed to me, after waiting a while in the shop till the fact was confirmed, he suddenly snatched me up as a hawk snatcheth a mouse and dew high in air; but presently descended and plunged with me under the earth (I being aswoon the while), and lastly set me down in the subterranean palace wherein I had passed that blissful night. And there I saw the lady stripped to the skin, her limbs bound to four stakes and blood welling from her sides. At the sight my eyes ran over with tears; but the Ifrit covered her person and said, “O wanton, is not this man thy lover?” She looked upon me and replied, “I wot him not nor have I ever seen him before this hour!” Quoth the Ifrit, “What! this torture and yet no confessing;” and quoth she,“I never saw this man in my born days, and it is not lawful in Allah’s sight to tell lies on him.” “If thou know him not,” said the Ifrit to her, “take this sword and strike off his head.’’6 She hent the sword in hand and came close up to me; and I signalled to her with my eyebrows, my tears the while flowing adown my cheeks. She understood me and made answer, also by signs, “How couldest thou bring all this evil upon me?” and I rejoined after the same fashion, “This is the time for mercy and forgiveness.” And the mute tongue of my case7 spake aloud saying:—
Mine eyes were dragomans for my tongue betted
And told full clear the love I fain would hide:
When last we met and tears in torrents railed
For tongue struck dumb my glances testified:
She signed with eye glance while her lips were mute
I signed with fingers and she kenned th’ implied:
Our eyebrows did all duty ‘twixt us twain;
And we being speechless Love spake loud and plain.
Then, O my mistress, the lady threw away the sword and said, “How shall I strike the neck of one I wot not, and who hath done me no evil? Such deed were not lawful in my law!” and she held her hand. Said the Ifrit, “’Tis grievous to thee to slay thy lover; and, because he hath lain with thee, thou endurest these torments and obstinately refusest to confess. After this it is clear to me that only like loveth and pitieth like.” Then he turned to me and asked me, “O man, haply thou also cost not know this woman;” whereto I answered, “And pray who may she be? assuredly I never saw her till this instant.” “Then take the sword,” said he “and strike off her head and I will believe that thou wottest her not and will leave thee free to go, and will not deaf ‘hardly with thee.” I replied, “That will I do;” and, taking the sword went forward sharply and raised my hand to smite. But she signed to me with her eyebrows, “Have I failed thee in aught of love; and is it thus that thou requirest me?” I understood what her looks implied and answered her with an eye-glance, “I will sacrifice my soul for thee.” And the tongue of the case wrote in our hearts these lines:—
How many a lover with his eyebrows speaketh
To his beloved, as his passion pleadeth:
With flashing eyne his passion he inspireth
And well she seeth what kits pleading needeth.
How sweet the look when each on other gazeth;
And with what swiftness and how sure it speedeth:
And this with eyebrows all his passion writeth;
And that with eyeballs all his passion readeth.
Then my eyes filled with tears to overflowing and I cast the sword from my hand saying, “O mighty Ifrit and hero, if a woman lacking wits and faith deem it unlawful to strike off my head, how can it be lawful for me, a man, to smite her neck whom I never saw in my whole life. I cannot do such misdeed though thou cause me drink the cup of death and perdition.” Then said the Ifrit, “Ye twain show the good understanding between you; but I will let you see how such doings end.” He took the sword, and struck off the lady’s hands first, with four strokes, and then her feet; whilst I looked on and made sure of death and she farewelled me with her dying eyes. So the Ifrit cried at her, “Thou whorest and makest me a wittol with thine eyes;” and struck her so that her head went flying. Then he turned to me and said, “O mortal, we have it in our law that, when the wife committeth advowtry it is lawful for us to slay her. As for this damsel I snatched her away on her bride-night when she was a girl of twelve and she knew no one but myself. I used to come to her once every ten days and lie with her the night, under the semblance of a man, a Persian; and when I was well assured that she had cuckolded me, I slew her. But as for thee I am not well satisfied that thou hast wronged me in her; nevertheless I must not let thee go unharmed; so ask a boon of me and I will grant it.” Then I rejoiced, O my lady, with ex ceeding joy and said, “What boon shall I crave of thee?” He replied, “Ask me this boon; into what shape I shall bewitch thee; wilt thou be a dog, or an ass or an ape?” I rejoined (and indeed I had hoped that mercy might be shown me), “By Allah, spare me, that Allah spare thee for sparing a Moslem and a man who never wronged thee.” And I humbled myself before him with exceeding humility, and remained standing in his presence, saying, “I am sore oppressed by circumstance.” He replied “Talk me no long talk, it is in my power to slay thee; but I give thee instead thy choice.” Quoth I, “O thou Ifrit, it would besit thee to pardon me even as the Envied pardoned the Envier.” Quoth he, “And how was that?” and I began to tell him
1 The converse of the breast being broadened, the drooping, “draggle-tail” gait compared with the head held high and the chest inflated.
2 This penalty is mentioned in the Koran (chaps. v.) as fit for those who fight against Allah and his Apostle, but commentators are not agreed if the sinners are first to be put to death or to hang on the cross till they die. Pharaoh (chaps. xx.) threatens to crucify his magicians on palm-trees, and is held to be the first crucifier.
3 Arab. “‘Ajami”=foreigner, esp. a Persian: the latter in The Nights is mostly a villain. I must here remark that the contemptible condition of Persians in Al–Hijáz (which I noted in 1852, Pilgrimage, i., 327) has completely changed. They are no longer, “The slippers of All and hounds of Omar:” they have learned the force of union and now, instead of being bullied, they bully.
4 The Calc. Edit. turns into Tailors (Khayyátín) and Torrens does not see the misprint.
5 i.e. Axe and sandals.
6 Lit. “Strike his neck.”
7 A phrase which will frequently recur; meaning the situation suggested such words a these.
They relate, O Ifrit, that in a certain city were two men who dwelt in adjoining houses, having a common party wall; and one of them envied the other and looked on him with an evil eye,1 and did his utmost endeavour to injure him; and, albeit at all times he was jealous of his neighbour, his malice at last grew on him till he could hardly eat or enjoy the sweet pleasures of sleep. But the Envied did nothing save prosper; and the more the other strove to injure him, the more he got and gained and throve. At last the malice of his neighbour and the man’s constant endeavour to work him a harm came to his knowledge; so he said, “By Allah! God’s earth is wide enough for its people;” and, leaving the neighbourhood, he repaired to another city where he bought himself a piece of land in which was a dried up draw well,2 old and in ruinous condition. Here he built him an oratory and, furnishing it with a few necessaries, took up his abode therein, and devoted himself to prayer and worshipping Allah Almighty; and Fakirs and holy mendicants docked to him from all quarters; and his fame went abroad through the city and that country side. Presently the news reached his envious neighbour, of what good fortune had befallen him and how the city notables had become his disciples; so he travelled to the place and presented himself at the holy man’s hermitage, and was met by the Envied with welcome and greeting and all honour. Then quoth the Envier, “I have a word to say to thee; and this is the cause of my faring hither, and I wish to give thee a piece of good news; so come with me to thy cell.” Thereupon the Envied arose and took the Envier by the hand, and they went in to the inmost part of the hermitage; but the Envier said, “Bid thy Fakirs retire to their cells, for I will not tell thee what I have to say, save in secret where none may hear us.” Accordingly the Envied said to his Fakirs, “Retire to your private cells;” and, when all had done as he bade them, he set out with his visitor and walked a little way until the twain reached the ruinous old well. And as they stood upon the brink the Envier gave the Envied a push which tumbled him headlong into it, unseen of any; whereupon he fared forth, and went his ways, thinking to have had slain him. Now this well happened to be haunted by the Jann who, seeing the case, bore him up and let him down little by little, till he reached the bottom, when they seated him upon a large stone. Then one of them asked his fellows, “Wot ye who be this man?” and they answered, “Nay.” “This man,” continued the speaker, “is the Envied hight who, flying from the Envier, came to dwell in our city, and here founded this holy house, and he hath edified us by his litanies3 and his lections of the Koran; but the Envier set out and journeyed till he rejoined him, and cunningly contrived to deceive him and cast him into the well where we now are. But the fame of this good man hath this very night come to the Sultan of our city who designeth to visit him on the morrow on account of his daughter.” “What aileth his daughter?” asked one, and another answered “She is possessed of a spirit; for Maymun, son of Damdam, is madly in love with her; but, if this pious man knew the remedy, her cure would be as easy as could be.” Hereupon one of them inquired, “And what is the medicine?” and he replied, “The black tom cat which is with him in the oratory hath, on the end of his tail, a white spot, the size of a dirham; let him pluck seven white hairs from the spot, then let him fumigate her therewith and the Marid will flee from her and not return; so she shall be sane for the rest of her life.” All this took place, O Ifrit, within earshot of the Envied who listened readily. When dawn broke and morn arose in sheen and shone, the Fakirs went to seek the Shaykh and found him climbing up the wall of the well; whereby he was magnified in their eyes.4 Then, knowing that naught save the black tomcat could supply him with the remedy required, he plucked the seven tail hairs from the white spot and laid them by him; and hardly had the sun risen ere the Sultan entered the hermitage, with the great lords of his estate, bidding the rest of his retinue to remain standing outside. The Envicd gave him a hearty welcome, and seating him by his side asked him, “Shall I tell thee the cause of thy coming?” The King answered, “Yes.” He continued, “Thou hast come upon pretext of a visitation;5 but it is in thy heart to question me of thy daughter.” Replied the King, “’Tis even so, O thou holy Shaykh;” and the Envied continued, “Send and fetch her, and I trust to heal her forthright (an such it be the will of Allah!)” The King in great joy sent for his daughter, and they brought her pinioned and fettered. The Envied made her sit down behind a curtain and taking out the hairs fumigated her therewith; whereupon that which was in her head cried out and departed from her. The girl was at once restored to her right mind and veiling her face, said, “What hath happened and who brought me hither?” The Sultan rejoiced with a joy that nothing could exceed, and kissed his daughter’s eyes,6 and the holy man’s hand; then, turning to his great lords, he asked, “How say ye! What fee deserveth he who hath made my daughter whole?” and all answered, “He deserveth her to wife;” and the King said, “Ye speak sooth!” So he married him to her and the Envied thus became son in law to the King. And after a little the Wazir died and the King said, “Whom can I make Minister in his stead?” “Thy son in law,” replied the courtiers. So the Envied became a Wazir; and after a while the Sultan also died and the lieges said, “Whom shall we make King?” and all cried, “The Wazir.” So the Wazir was forthright made Sultan, and he became King regnant, a true ruler of men. One day as he had mounted his horse; and, in the eminence of his kinglihood, was riding amidst his Emirs and Wazirs and the Grandees of his realm his eye fell upon his old neighbour, the Envier, who stood afoot on his path; so he turned to one of his Ministers, and said, “Bring hither that man and cause him no affright.” The Wazir brought him and the King said, “Give him a thousand miskals7 of gold from the treasury, and load him ten camels with goods for trade, and send him under escort to his own town.” Then he bade his enemy farewell and sent him away and forbore to punish him for the many and great evils he had done. See, O Ifrit, the mercy of the Envied to the Envier, who had hated him from the beginning and had borne him such bitter malice and never met him without causing him trouble; and had driven him from house and home, and then had journeyed for the sole purpose of taking his life by throwing him into the well. Yet he did not requ ite his injurious dealing, but forgave him and was bountiful to him.8 Then I wept before him, O my lady, with sore weeping, never was there sorer, and I recited:—
“Pardon my fault, for ’tis the wise man’s wont
All faults to pardon and revenge forgo:
In sooth all manner faults in me contain
Then deign of goodness mercy grace to show:
Whoso imploreth pardon from on High
Should hold his hand from sinners here below.”
Said the Ifrit, “Lengthen not thy words! As to my slaying thee fear it not, and as to my pardoning thee hope it not; but from my bewitching thee there is no escape.” Then he tore me from the ground which closed under my feet and hew with me into the firmament till I saw the earth as a large white cloud or a saucer9 in the midst of the waters. Presently he set me down on a moun fain, and taking a little dust, over which he muttered some magical words, sprinkled me therewith, saying, “Quit that shape and take thou the shape of an ape!” And on the instant I became an ape, a tail less baboon, the son of a century10. Now when he had left me and I saw myself in this ugly and hateful shape, I wept for myself, but resigned my soul to the tyranny of Time and Circumstance, well weeting that Fortune is fair and constant to no man. I descended the mountain and found at the foot a desert plain, long and broad, over which I travelled for the space of a month till my course brought me to the brink of the briny sea.11 After standing there awhile, I was ware of a ship in the offing which ran before a fair wind making for the shore. I hid myself behind a rock on the beach and waited till the ship drew near, when I leaped on board. I found her full of merchants and passengers and one of them cried, “O Captain, this ill omened brute will bring us ill luck!” and another said, “Turn this ill omened beast out from among us;” the Captain said, “Let us kill it!” another said, “Slay it with the sword;” a third, “Drown it;” and a fourth, “Shoot it with an arrow.” But I sprang up and laid hold of the Rais’s12 skirt, and shed tears which poured down my chops. The Captain took pity on me, and said, “O merchants! this ape hath appealed to me for protection and I will protect him; henceforth he is under my charge: so let none do him aught hurt or harm, otherwise there will be bad blood between us.” Then he entreated me kindly and whatsoever he said I understood and ministered to his every want and served him as a servant, albeit my tongue would not obey my wishes; so that he came to love me. The vessel sailed on, the wind being fair, for the space of fifty days; at the end of which we cast anchor under the walls of a great city wherein was a world of people, especially learned men, none could tell their number save Allah. No sooner had we arrived than we were visited by certain Mameluke officials from the King of that city; who, after boarding us, greeted the merchants and giving them joy of safe arrival said, “Our King welcometh you, and sendeth you this roll of paper, whereupon each and every of you must write a line. For ye shall know that the King’s Minister, a calligrapher of renown, is dead, and the King hath sworn a solemn oath that he will make none Wazir in his stead who cannot write as well as he couId.” Hethen gave us the scroll which measured ten cubits long by a breadth of one, and each of the merchants who knew how to write wrote a line thereon, even to the last of them; after which I stood up (still in the shape of an ape) and snatched the roll out of their hands. They feared lest I should tear it or throw it overboard; so they tried to stay me and scare me, but I signed to them that i could write, whereat all marvelled, saying, “We never yet saw an, ape write.” And the Captain cried, “Let him write; and if he scribble and scrabble we will kick him out and kill him; but if he; write fair and scholarly I will adopt him as my son; for surely I never yet saw a more intelligent and well mannered monkey than he. Would Heaven my real son were his match in morals and manners.” I took the reed, and stretching out my paw, dipped it in ink and wrote, in the hand used for letters,13 these two couplets:—
Time hath recorded gifts she gave the great;
But none recorded thine which be far higher
Allah ne’er orphan men by loss of thee
Who be of Goodness mother. Bounty’s sire.
And I wrote in Rayháni or larger letters elegantly curved14:—
Thou hast a reed15 of rede to every land,
Whose driving causeth all the world to thrive;
Nil is the Nile of Misraim by thy boons
Who makest misery smile with fingers five
Then I wrote in the Suls16 character:—
There be no writer who from Death shall fleet,
But what his hand hath writ men shall repeat:
Write, therefore, naught save what shall serve thee when
Thou see’s on Judgment–Day an so thou see’s!
Then I wrote in the character Naskh17:—
When to sore parting Fate our love shall doom,
To distant life by Destiny decreed,
We cause the inkhorn’s lips to ‘plain our pains,
And tongue our utterance with the talking reed.
And I wrote in the Túmár character18:—
Kingdom with none endures; if thou deny
This truth, where be the Kings of earlier earth?
Set trees of goodliness while rule endures,
And when thou art fallen they shall tell thy worth.
And I wrote in the character Muhakkak19:—
When oped the inkhorn of thy wealth and fame
Take ink of generous heart and gracious hand;
Write brave and noble deeds while write thou can
And win thee praise from point of pen and brand.
Then I gave the scroll to the officials and, after we all had written our line, they carried it before the King. When he saw the paper no writing pleased him save my writing; and he said to the assembled courtiers, “Go seek the writer of these lines and dress him in a splendid robe of honour; then mount him on a she mule,20 let a band of music precede him and bring him to the presence.” At these words they smiled and the King was wroth with them and cried, “O accursed! I give you an order and you laugh at me?” “O King,” replied they, “if we laugh ’tis not at thee and not without a cause.” “And what is it?” asked he; and they answered, “O King, thou orderest us to bring to thy presence the man who wrote these lines; now the truth is that he who wrote them is not of the sons of Adam,21 but an ape, a tail-less baboon, belonging to the ship captain.” Quoth he, “Is this true that you say?” Quoth they, “Yea! by the rights of thy munificence!” The King marvelled at their words and shook with mirth and said, “I am minded to buy this ape of the Captain.” Then he sent messengers to the ship with the mule, the dress, the guard and the state drums, saying, “Not the less do you clothe him in the robe of honour and mount him on the mule and let him be surrounded by the guards and preceded by the band of music.” They came to the ship and took me from the Captain and robed me in the robe of honour and, mounting me on the she mule, carried me in state procession through the streets’, whilst the people were amazed and amused. And folk said to one another, “Halloo! is our Sultan about to make an ape his Minister?”; and came all agog crowding to gaze at me, and the town was astir and turned topsy turvy on my account. When they brought me up to the King and set me in his presence, I kissed the ground before him three times, and once before the High Chamberlain and great officers, and he bade me be seated, and I sat respectfully on shins and knees,22 and all who were present marvelled at my fine manners, and the King most of all. Thereupon he ordered the lieges to retire; and, when none remained save the King’s majesty, the Eunuch on duty and a little white slave, he bade them set before me the table of food, con taining all manner of birds, whatever hoppeth and flieth and treadeth in nest, such as quail and sand grouse. Then he signed me to eat with him; so I rose and kissed ground before him, then sat me down and ate with him. And when the table was removed I washed my hands in seven waters and took the reed-case and reed; and wrote instead of speaking these couplets:—
Wail for the little partridges on porringer and plate;
Cry for the ruin of the fries and stews well marinate:
Keen as I keen for loved, lost daughters of the Katá-grouse,23
And omelette round the fair enbrowned fowls agglomerate:
O fire in heart of me for fish, those deux poissons I saw,
Bedded on new made scones24 and cakes in piles to laniate.
For thee, O vermicelli! aches my very maw! I hold
Without thee every taste and joy are clean annihilate
Those eggs have rolled their yellow eyes in torturing pains of fire
Ere served with hash and fritters hot, that delicatest cate.
Praised be Allah for His baked and roast and ah! how good
This pulse, these pot-herbs steeped in oil with eysill combinate!
When hunger sated was, I elbow-propt fell back upon
Meat pudding25 wherein gleamed the bangles that my wits amate.
Then woke I sleeping appetite to eat as though in sport
Sweets from broceded trays and kickshaws most elaborate.
Be patient, soul of me! Time is a haughty, jealous wight;
Today he seems dark-lowering and tomorrow fair to sight.26
Then I rose and seated myself at a respectful distance while the King read what I had written, and marvelled, exclaiming, “O the miracle, that an ape should be gifted with this graceful style and this power of penmanship! By Allah, ’tis a wonder of wonders!” Presently they set before the King choice wines in flagons of glass and he drank: then he passed on the cup to me; and I kissed the ground and drank and wrote on it:—
With fire they boiled me to loose my tongue,27
And pain and patience gave for fellowship:
Hence comes it hands of men upbear me high
And honey dew from lips of maid I sip!
And these also:—
Morn saith to Night, “withdraw and let me shine;”
So drain we draughts that dull all pain and pine:28
I doubt, so fine the glass, the wine so clear,
If ’tis the wine in glass or glass in twine.
The King read my verse and said with a sigh, “Were these gifts29 in a man, he would excel all the folk of his time and age!” Then he called for the chess board, and said, “Say, wilt thou play with me?”; and I signed with my head, “Yes.” Then I came forward and ordered the pieces and played with him two games, both of which I won. He was speechless with surprise; so I took the pen case and, drawing forth a reed, wrote on the board these two couplets:—
Two hosts fare fighting thro’ the livelong day
Nor is their battling ever finished,
Until, when darkness girdeth them about,
The twain go sleeping in a single bed.30
The King read these lines with wonder and delight and said to his Eunuch,31 “O Mukbil, go to thy mistress, Sitt al-Husn,32 and say her, ‘Come, speak the King who biddeth thee hither to take thy solace in seeing this right wondrous ape!”’ So the Eunuch went out and presently returned with the lady who, when she saw me veiled her face and said, “O my father! hast thou lost all sense of honour? How cometh it thou art pleased to send for me and show me to strange men?” “O Sitt al-Husn,” said he, “no man is here save this little foot page and the Eunuch who reared thee and I, thy father. Prom whom, then, cost thou veil thy face?” She answered, “This whom thou deemest an ape is a young man, a clever and polite, a wise and learned and the son of a King; but he is ensorcelled and the Ifrit Jirjaris, who is of the seed of Iblis, cast a spell upon him, after putting to death his own wife the daughter of King Ifitamus lord of the Islands of Abnus.” The King marvelled at his daughter’s words and, turning to me, said, “Is this true that she saith of thee?”; and I signed by a nod of my head the answer, “Yea, verily;” and wept sore. Then he asked his daughter, “Whence knewest thou that he is ensorcelled?”; and she answered, “O my dear papa, there was with me in my childhood an old woman, a wily one and a wise and a witch to boot, and she taught me the theory of magic and its practice; and I took notes in writing and therein waxed perfect, and have committed to memory an hundred and seventy chapters of egro mantic formulas, by the least of which I could transport the stones of thy city behind the Mountain Kaf and the Circum ambient Main,33 or make its site an abyss of the sea and its people fishes swimming in the midst of it.” “O my daughter,” said her father, “I conjure thee, by my life, disenchant this young man, that I may make him my Wazir and marry thee to him, for indeed he is an ingenious youth and a deeply learned.” “With joy and goodly gree,” she replied and, hending in hand an iron knife whereon was inscribed the name of Allah in Hebrew characters, she described a wide circle — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The smiter with the evil eye is called “A’in” and the person smitten “Ma’ím” or “Ma’ún.”
2 Arab. “Sákiyah,” the well-known Persian wheel with pots and buckets attached to the tire. It is of many kinds, the boxed, etc., etc., and it is possibly alluded to in the “pitcher broken at the fountain” (Eccleslastes xii. 6) an accident often occurring to the modern “Noria.” Travellers mostly abuse its “dismal creaking” and “mournful monotony”: I have defended the music of the water-wheel in Pilgrimage ii. 198.
3 Arab. “Zikr” lit. remembering, mentioning (i. c. the names of Allah), here refers to the meetings of religious for devotional exercises; the “Zikkirs,” as they are called, mostly standing or sitting in a circle while they ejaculate the Holy Name. These “rogations” are much affected by Darwayshes, or begging friars, whom Europe politely divides Unto “dancing” and “howling”; and, on one occasion, greatly to the scandal of certain Engländerinns to whom I was showing the Ezbekiyah I joined the ring of “howlers.” Lane (Mod. Egypt, see index) is profuse upon the subject of “Zikrs” and Zikkíts. It must not be supposed that they are uneducated men: the better class, however, prefers more privacy.
4 As they thought he had been there for prayer or penance.
5 Arab. “Ziyárat,” a visit to a pious person or place.
6 This is a paternal salute in the East where they are particular about the part kissed. A witty and not unusually gross Persian book, called the “Al-Námah” because all questions begin with “Al” (the Arab article) contains one “Al–Wajib al-busidan?” (what best deserves bussing?) and the answer is “Kus-i-nau-pashm,” (a bobadilla with a young bush).
7 A weight of 71–72 English grains in gold; here equivalent to the diner.
8 Compare the tale of The Three Crows in Gammer Grethel, Evening ix.
9 The comparison is peculiarly apposite; the earth seen from above appears hollow with a raised rim.
10 A hundred years old.
11 “Bahr” in Arab. means sea, river, piece of water; hence the adjective is needed.
12 The Captain or Master of the ship (not the owner). In Al–Yaman the word also means a “barber,” in virtue of the root, Rass, a head.
13 The text has “in the character Ruká’í,”,” or Riká’í,, the correspondence-hand.
14 A curved character supposed to be like the basil-leaf (rayhán). Richardson calls it “Rohani.”
15 I need hardly say that Easterns use a reed, a Calamus (Kalam applied only to the cut reed) for our quills and steel pens.
16 Famous for being inscribed on the Kiswah (cover) of Mohammed’s tomb; a large and more formal hand still used for engrossing and for mural inscriptions. Only seventy two varieties of it are known (Pilgrimage, ii., 82).
17 The copying and transcribing hand which is either Arabi or Ajami. A great discovery has been lately made which upsets all our old ideas of Cufic, etc. Mr. Löytved of Bayrut has found, amongst the Hauranic inscriptions, one in pure Naskhi, dating A. D. 568, or fifty years before the Hijrah; and it is accepted as authentic by my learned friend M. Ch. Clermont–Ganneau (p. 193, Pal. Explor. Fund. July 1884). In D’Herbelot and Sale’s day the Koran was supposed to have been written in rude characters, like those subsequently called “Cufic,” invented shortly before Mohammed’s birth by Murámir ibn Murrah of Anbar in Irák, introduced into Meccah by Bashar the Kindian, and perfected by Ibn Muklah (Al–Wazir, ob. A. H. 328=940). We must now change all that. See Catalogue of Oriental Caligraphs, etc., by G. P, Badger, London, Whiteley, 1885.
18 Capital and uncial letters; the hand in which the Ka’abah veil is inscribed (Pilgrimage iii. 299, 300).
19 A “Court hand” says Mr. Payne (i. 112): I know nothing of it. Other hands are: the Ta’alík; hanging or oblique, used for finer Mss. and having, according to Richardson, “the same analogy to the Naskhi as our Italic has to the Roman.” The Nasta’ lík (not Naskh–Ta’alik) much used in India, is, as the name suggests, a mixture of the Naskhi (writing of transactions) and the Ta’alik. The Shikastah (broken hand) everywhere represents our running hand and becomes a hard task to the reader. The Kirmá is another cursive character, mostly confined to the receipts and disbursements of the Turkish treasury. The Diváni, or Court (of Justice) is the official hand, bold and round. a business character, the lines often rising with a sweep or curve towards the (left) end. The Jáli or polished has a variety, the Jali–Ta’alik: the Sulsi (known in many books) is adopted for titles of volumes, royal edicts, diplomas and so forth; “answering much the same purpose as capitals with us, or the flourished letters in illuminated manuscripts” (Richardson) The Tughrái is that of the Tughrá, the Prince’s cypher or flourishing signature in ceremonial writings, and containing some such sentence as: Let this be executed. There are others e. g. Yákuti and Sirenkil known only by name. Finally the Maghribi (Moorish) hand differs in form and diacritical points from the characters used further east almost as much as German running hand does from English. It is curious that Richardson omits the Jali (intricate and convoluted) and the divisions of the Sulusí, Sulsi or Sulus (Thuluth) character, the Sulus al-Khafíf, etc.
20 Arab. “Baghlah”; the male (Bagful) is used only for loads. This is everywhere the rule: nothing is more unmanageable than a restive “Macho”, and he knows that he can always get you off his back when so minded. From “Baghlah” is derived the name of the native craft Anglo–Indicè a “Buggalow.”
21 In Heb. ““Ben — Adam” is any man opp. to “Beni ish” (Psalm iv. 3) =filii viri, not homines.
22 This posture is terribly trying to European legs; and few white men (unless brought up to it) can squat for any time on their heels. The ‘‘tailor-fashion,” with crossed legs, is held to be free and easy.
23 Arab. “Katá”=Pterocles Alchata, the well-known sand-grouse of the desert. It is very poor white flesh.
24 Arab. “Khubz” which I do not translate “cake” or ‘‘bread,’’ as thee would suggest the idea Of our loaf. The staff of life in the East is a thin flat circle of dough baked in the oven or on the griddle, and corresponding with the Scotch “scone,” the Spanish tortilla and the Australian “flap-jack.”
25 Arab. “Harísah,” a favourite dish of wheat (or rice) boiled and reduced to a paste with shredded meat, spices and condiments. The “bangles” is a pretty girl eating with him.
26 These lines are repeated with a difference in Night cccxxx. They affect Rims cars, out of the way, heavy rhymes: e. g. here Sakáríj (plur. of Sakrúj, platters, porringers); Tayáhíj (plur. of Tayhúj, the smaller caccabis-partridge); Tabáhíj (Persian Tabahjah, an me et or a stew of meat, onions, eggs, etc.) Ma’áríj (“in stepped piles” like the pyramids Lane ii 495, renders “on the stairs”); Makáríj (plur. of Makraj, a small pot); Damálíj (plur. of dumlúj, a bracelet, a bangle); Dayábíj (brocades) and Tafáríj (openings, enjoyments). In Night cccxxx. we find also Sikábíj (plur. of Sikbáj, marinated meat elsewhere explained); Faráríj (plur. of farrúj, a chicken, vulg. farkh) and Dakákíj (plur. of Gr. dakújah,, a small Jar). In the first line we have also (though not a rhyme) Gharánik Gr., a crane, preserved in Romaic. The weeping and wailing are caused by the em remembrance that all these delicacies have been demolished like a Badawi camp.
27 This is the vinum coctum, the boiled wine, still a favourite in Southern Italy and Greece.
28 Eastern topers delight in drinking at dawn: upon this subject I shall have more to say in other Nights.
29 Arab. “Adab,” a crux to translators, meaning anything between good education and good manners. In mod. Turk. “Edibiyyet” (Adabiyat) = belles lettres and “Edebi’ or “Edíb” = a littérateur.
30 The Caliph Al–Maamún, who was a bad player, used to say, “I have the administration of the world and am equal to it, whereas I am straitened in the ordering of a space of two spans by two spans.” The “board” was then “a square field of well-dressed leather.”
31 The Rabbis (after Matth. xix. 12) count three kinds of Eunuchs; (1) Seris chammah=of the sun, i.e. natural, (2) Seris Adam=manufactured per homines; and (3) Seris Chammayim — of God (i.e.. religious abstainer). Seris (castrated) or Abd (slave) is the general Hebrew name.
32 The “Lady of Beauty.”
33 “Káf” has been noticed as the mountain which surrounds earth as a ring does the finger:: it is popularly used like our Alp and Alpine. The “circumambient Ocean” (Bahr al-muhit) is the Homeric Ocean-stream.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Kalandar continued his tale thus:— O my lady, the King’s daughter hent in hand a knife whereon were inscribed Hebrew characters and described a wide circle in the midst of the palace hall, and therein wrote in Cufic letters mysterious names and talismans; and she uttered words and muttered charms, some of which we under stood and others we understood not. Presently the world waxed dark before our sight till we thought that the sky was falling upon our heads, and lo! the Ifrit presented himself in his own shape and aspect. His hands were like many pronged pitch forks, his legs like the masts of great ships, and his eyes like cressets of gleaming fire. We were in terrible fear of him but the King’s daughter cried at him, “No welcome to thee and no greeting, O dog!” whereupon he changed to the form of a lion and said, “O traitress, how is it thou hast broken the oath we sware that neither should contraire other!” “O accursed one,” answered she, “how could there be a compact between me and the like of thee?” Then said he, “Take what thou has brought on thy self;” and the lion opened his jaws and rushed upon her; but she was too quick for him; and, plucking a hair from her head, waved it in the air muttering over it the while; and the hair straightway became a trenchant sword blade, wherewith she smote the lion and cut him in twain. Then the two halves flew away in air and the head changed to a scorpion and the Princess became a huge serpent and set upon the accursed scorpion, and the two fought, coiling and uncoiling, a stiff fight for an hour at least. Then the scorpion changed to a vulture and the serpent became an eagle which set upon the vulture, and hunted him for an hour’s time, till he became a black tom cat, which miauled and grinned and spat. Thereupon the eagle changed into a piebald wolf and these two battled in the palace for a long time, when the cat, seeing himself overcome, changed into a worm and crept into a huge red pomegranate,1 which lay beside the jetting fountain in the midst of the palace hall. Whereupon the pomegranate swelled to the size of a water melon in air; and, falling upon the marble pavement of the palace, broke to pieces, and all the grains fell out and were scattered about till they covered the whole floor. Then the wolf shook himself and became a snow white cock, which fell to picking up the grains purposing not to leave one; but by doom of destiny one seed rolled to the fountain edge and there lay hid. The cock fell to crowing and clapping his wings and signing to us with his beak as if to ask, ‘ Are any grains left?” But we understood not what he meant, and he cried to us with so loud a cry that we thought the palace would fall upon us. Then he ran over all the floor till he saw the grain which had rolled to the fountain edge, and rushed eagerly to pick it up when behold, it sprang into the midst of the water and became a fish and dived to the bottom of the basin. Thereupon the cock changed to a big fish, and plunged in after the other, and the two disappeared for a while and lo! we heard loud shrieks and cries of pain which made us tremble. After this the Ifrit rose out of the water, and he was as a burning flame; casting fire and smoke from his mouth and eyes and nostrils. And immediately the Princess likewise came forth from the basin and she was one live coal of flaming lowe; and these two, she and he, battled for the space of an hour, until their fires entirely compassed them about and their thick smoke filled the palace. As for us we panted for breath, being well nigh suffocated, and we longed to plunge into the water fearing lest we be burnt up and utterly destroyed; and the King said, There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great! Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him are we returning! Would Heaven I had not urged my daughter to attempt the disenchantment of this ape fellow, whereby I have imposed upon her the terrible task of fighting yon accursed Ifrit against whom all the Ifrits in the world could not prevail. And would Heaven we had never seen this ape, Allah never assain nor bless the day of his coming! We thought to do a good deed by him before the face of Allah,2 and to release him from enchantment, and now we have brought this trouble and travail upon our heart.” But I, O my lady, was tongue tied and powerless to say a word to him. Suddenly, ere we were ware of aught, the Ifrit yelled out from under the flames and, coming up to us as we stood on the estrade, blew fire in our faces. The damsel overtook him and breathed blasts of fire at his face and the sparks from her and from him rained down upon us, and her sparks did us no harm, but one of his sparks alighted upon my eye and destroyed it making me a monocular ape; and another fell on the King’s face scorching the lower half, burning off his beard and mustachios and causing his under teeth to fall out; while a third alighted on the Castrato’s breast, killing him on the spot. So we despaired of life and made sure of death when lo! a voice repeated the saying, “Allah is most Highest! Allah is most Highest! Aidance and victory to all who the Truth believe; and disappointment and disgrace to all who the religion of Mohammed, the Moon of Faith, unbelieve.” The speaker was the Princess who had burnt the Ifrit, and he was become a heap of ashes. Then she came up to us and said, “Reach me a cup of water.” They brought it to her and she spoke over it words we understood not, and sprinkling me with it cried, “By virtue of the Truth, and by the Most Great name of Allah, I charge thee return to thy former shape.” And behold, I shook, and became a man as before, save that I had utterly lost an eye. Then she cried out, “The fire! The fire! O my dear papa an arrow from the accursed hath wounded me to the death, for I am not used to fight with the Jann; had he been a man I had slain him in the beginning. I had no trouble till the time when the pomegranate burst and the grains scattered, but I overlooked the seed wherein was the very life of the Jinni. Had I picked it up he had died on the spot, but as Fate and Fortune decreed, I saw it not; so he came upon me all unawares and there befel between him and me a sore struggle under the earth and high in air and in the water; and, as often as I opened on him a gate,3 he opened on me another gate and a stronger, till at last he opened on me the gate of fire, and few are saved upon whom the door of fire openeth. But Destiny willed that my cunning prevail over his cunning; and I burned him to death after I vainly exhorted him to embrace the religion of al-Islam. As for me I am a dead woman; Allah supply my place to you!” Then she called upon Heaven for help and ceased not to implore relief from the fire; when lo! a black spark shot up from her robed feet to her thighs; then it flew to her bosom and thence to her face. When it reached her face she wept and said, “I testify that there is no god but the God and that Mahommed is the Apostle of God!” And we looked at her and saw naught but a heap of ashes by the side of the heap that had been the Ifrit. We mourned for her and I wished I had been in her place, so had I not seen her lovely face who had worked me such weal become ashes; but there is no gainsaying the will of Allah. When the King saw his daughter’s terrible death, he plucked out what was left of his beard and beat his face and rent his raiment; and I did as he did and we both wept over her. Then came in the Chamberlains and Grandees and were amazed to find two heaps of ashes and the Sultan in a fainting fit; so they stood round him till he revived and told them what had befallen his daughter from the If rit; whereat their grief was right grievous and the women and the slave girls shrieked and keened,4 and they continued their lamentations for the space of seven days. Moreover the King bade build over his daughter’s ashes a vast vaulted tomb, and burn therein wax tapers and sepulchral lamps: but as for the Ifrit’s ashes they scattered them on the winds, speeding them to the curse of Allah. Then the Sultan fell sick of a sickness that well nigh brought him to his death for a month’s space; and, when health returned to him and his beard grew again and he had been converted by the mercy of Allah to al-Islam, he sent for me and said, “O youth, Fate had decreed for us the happiest of lives, safe from all the chances and changes of Time, till thou camest to us, when troubles fell upon us. Would to Heaven we had never seen thee and the foul face of thee! For we took pity on thee and thereby we have lost our all. I have on thy account first lost my daughter who to me was well worth an hundred men, secondly I have suffered that which befel me by reason of the fire and the loss of my teeth, and my Eunuch also was slain. I blame thee not, for it was out of thy power to prevent this: the doom of Allah was on thee as well as on us and thanks be to the Almighty for that my daughter delivered thee, albeit thereby she lost her own life! Go forth now, O my son, from this my city, and suffice thee what hath befallen us through thee, even although ’twas decreed for us. Go forth in peace; and if I ever see thee again I will surely slay thee.” And he cried out at me. So I went forth from his presence, O my lady, weeping bitterly and hardly believing in my escape and knowing not whither I should wend. And I recalled all that had befallen me, my meeting the tailor, my love for the damsel in the palace beneath the earth, and my narrow escape from the Ifrit, even after he had determined to do me die; and how I had entered the city as an ape and was now leaving it a man once more. Then I gave thanks to Allah and said, “My eye and not my life!” and before leaving the place I entered the bath and shaved my poll and beard and mustachios and eye brows; and cast ashes on my head and donned the coarse black woollen robe of a Kalandar. Then I fared forth, O my lady, and every day I pondered all the calamities which had betided me, and I wept and repeated these couplets:—
“I am distraught, yet verily His ruth abides with me,
Tho’ round me gather hosts of ills, whence come I cannot see:
Patient I’ll be till Patience self with me impatient wax;
Patient for ever till the Lord fulfil my destiny:
Patient I’ll bide without complaint, a wronged and vanquish” man;
Patient as sunparcht wight that spans the desert’s sandy sea:
Patient I’ll be till Aloe’s5 self unwittingly allow
I’m patient under bitterer things than bitterest aloë:
No bitterer things than aloes or than patience for mankind,
Yet bitterer than the twain to me were Patience’ treachery:
My sere and seamed and seared brow would dragoman my sore
If soul could search my sprite and there unsecret secrecy:
Were hills to bear the load I bear they’d crumble ‘neath the weight,
‘Twould still the roaring wind, ‘twould quench the flame-tongue’s flagrancy,
And whoso saith the world is sweet certès a day he’ll see
With more than aloes’ bitterness and aloes’ pungency.”
Then I journeyed through many regions and saw many a city intending for Baghdad, that I might seek audience, in the House of Peace,6 with the Commander of the Faithful and tell him all that had befallen me. I arrived here this very night and found my brother in Allah, this first Kalandar, standing about as one perplexed; so I saluted him with “Peace be upon thee,” and entered into discourse with him. Presently up came our brother, this third Kalandar, and said to us, “Peace be with you! I am a stranger;” whereto we replied, “And we too be strangers, who have come hither this blessed night.” So we all three walked on together, none of us knowing the other’s history, till Destiny crave us to this door and we came in to you. Such then is my story and my reason for shaving my beard and mustachios, and this is what caused the loss of my eye. Said the house mistress, “Thy tale is indeed a rare; so rub thy head and wend thy ways;” but he replied, “I will not budge till I hear my companions’ stories.” Then came forward the third Kalandar, and said, “O illustrious lady! my history is not like that of these my comrades, but more wondrous and far more marvellous. In their case Fate and Fortune came down on them unawares; but I drew down destiny upon my own head and brought sorrow on mine own soul, and shaved my own beard and lost my own eye. Hear then
1 The pomegranate is probably chosen here because each fruit is supposed to contain one seed from Eden-garden. Hence a host of superstitions (Pilgrimage iii., 104) possibly connected with the Chaldaic–Babylonian god Rimmon or Ramanu. Hence Persephone or Ishtar tasted the “rich pomegranate’s seed.” Lenormant, loc. cit. pp. 166, 182.
2 i.e. for the love of God — a favourite Moslem phrase.
3 Arab. “Báb,” also meaning a chapter (of magic, of war, etc.), corresponding with the Persian “Dar” as in Sad-dar, the Hundred Doors. Here, however, it is figurative “I tried a new mode.” This scene is in the Mabinogion.
4 I use this Irish term = crying for the dead, as English wants the word for the præfica,or myrialogist. The practice is not encouraged in Al–Islam; and Caliph Abu Bakr said,; “Verily a corpse is sprinkled with boiling water by reason of the lamentations of the living, i.e. punished for not having taken measures to prevent their profitless lamentations. But the practice is from Negroland whence it reached Egypt, and the people have there developed a curious system in the “weeping-song” I have noted this in “The Lake Regions of Central Africa.” In Zoroastrianism (Dabistan, chaps. xcvii.) tears shed for the dead form a river in hell, black and frigid.
5 These lines are hardly translatable. Arab. “Sabr” means “patience” as well as “aloes,” hereby lending itself to a host of puns and double entendres more or less vile The aloe, according to Burckhardt, is planted in graveyards as a lesson of patience: it is also slung, like the dried crocodile, over house doors to prevent evil spirits entering: “thus hung without earth and water,” says Lane (M.E., chaps. xi.), “it will live for several years and even blossom. Hence (?) it is called Sabr, which signifies patience. But Sibr as well as Sabr (a root) means “long sufferance.” I hold the practice to be one of the many Inner African superstitions. The wild Gallas to the present day plant aloes on graves, and suppose that when the plant sprouts the deceased has been admitted to the gardens of Wák, the Creator. (Pilgrimage iii. 350.)
6 Every city in the East has its specific title: this was given to Baghdad either on account of its superior police or simply because it was the Capital of the Caliphate. The Tigris was also called the “River of Peace (or Security).”
Know, O my lady, that I also am a King and the son of a King and my name is Ajíb son of Kazíb. When my father died I succeeded him; and I ruled and did justice and dealt fairly by all my lieges. I delighted in sea trips, for my capital stood on the shore, before which the ocean stretched far and wide; and near hand were many great islands with sconces and garrisons in the midst of the main. My fleet numbered fifty merchantmen, and as many yachts for pleasance, and an hundred and fifty sail ready fitted for holy war with the Unbelievers. It fortuned that I had a mind to enjoy myself on the islands aforesaid, so I took ship with my people in ten keel; and, carrying with me a month’s victual, I set out on a twenty days’ voyage. But one night a head wind struck us, and the sea rose against us with huge waves; the billows sorely buffetted us and a dense darkness settled round us. We gave ourselves up for lost and I said, “Whoso endangereth his days, e’en an he ’scape deserveth no praise.” Then we prayed to Allah and besought Him; but the storm blasts ceased not to blow against us nor the surges to strike us till morning broke when the gale fell, the seas sank to mirrory stillness and the sun shone upon us kindly clear. Presently we made an island where we landed and cooked somewhat of food, and ate heartily and took our rest for a couple of days. Then we set out again and sailed other twenty days, the seas broadening and the land shrinking. Presently the current ran counter to us, and we found ourselves in strange waters, where the Captain had lost his reckoning, and was wholly bewildered in this sea; so said we to the look out man,1 “Get thee to the mast head and keep thine eyes open.” He swarmed up the mast and looked out and cried aloud, “O Rais, I espy to starboard something dark, very like a fish floating on the face of the sea, and to larboard there is a loom in the midst of the main, now black and now bright.” When the Captain heard the look out’s words he dashed his turband on the deck and plucked out his beard and beat his face saying, “Good news indeed! we be all dead men; not one of us can be saved.” And he fell to weeping and all of us wept for his weeping and also for our lives; and I said, “O Captain, tell us what it is the look out saw.” “O my Prince,” answered he, “know that we lost our course on the night of the storm, which was followed on the morrow by a two days’ calm during which we made no way; and we have gone astray eleven days reckoning from that night, with ne’er a wind to bring us back to our true course. To morrow by the end of the day we shall come to a mountain of black stone, hight the Magnet Mountain;2 for thither the cu rents carry us willy-nilly. As soon as we are under its lea, the ship’s sides will open and every nail in plank will fly out and cleave fast to the mountain; for that Almighty Allah hath gifted the loadstone with a mysterious virtue and a love for iron, by reason whereof all which is iron travelleth towards it; and on this mountain is much iron, how much none knoweth save the Most High, from the many vessels which have been lost there since the days of yore. The bright spot upon its summit is a dome of yellow laton from Andalusia, vaulted upon ten columns; and on its crown is a horseman who rideth a horse of brass and holdeth in hand a lance of laton; and there hangeth on his bosom a tablet of lead graven with names and talismans.” And he presently added, “And, O King, none destroyeth folk save the rider on that steed, nor will the egromancy be dispelled till he fall from his horse.’’3 Then, O my lady, the Captain wept with exceeding weeping and we all made sure of death doom and each and every one of us farewelled his friend and charged him with his last will and testament in case he might be saved. We slept not that night and in the morning we found ourselves much nearer the Loadstone Mountain, whither the waters crave us with a violent send. When the ships were close under its lea they opened and the nails flew out and all the iron in them sought the Magnet Mountain and clove to it like a network; so that by the end of the day we were all struggling in the waves round about the mountain. Some of us were saved, but more were drowned and even those who had escaped knew not one another, so stupefied were they by the beating of the billows and the raving of the winds. As for me, O my lady, Allah (be His name exalted!) preserved my life that I might suffer whatso He willed to me of hardship, misfortune and~calamity; for I scrambled upon a plank from one of the ships, and the wind and waters threw it at the feet of the Mountain. There I found a practicable path leading by steps carven out of the rock to the summit, and I called on the name of Allah Almighty”4 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This is very characteristic: the passengers finding themselves in difficulties at once take command. See in my Pilgrimage (I. chaps. xi.) how we beat and otherwise maltreated the Captain of the “Golden Wire.”
2 The fable is probably based on the currents which, as in Eastern Africa, will carry a ship fifty miles a day out of her course. We first find it in Ptolemy (vii. 2) whose Maniólai Islands, of India extra Gangem, cause iron nails to fly out of ships, the effect of the Lapis Herculeus (Loadstone). Rabelais (v. c. 37) alludes to it and to the vulgar idea of magnetism being counteracted by Skordon (Scordon or garlic). Hence too the Adamant (Loadstone) Mountains of Mandeville (chaps. xxvii.) and the “Magnetic Rock” in Mr Puttock’s clever “Peter Wilkins.” I presume that the myth also arose from seeing craft built, as on the East African Coast, without iron nails. We shall meet with the legend again. The word Jabal (“Jebel” in Egypt) often occurs in these pages. The Arabs apply it to any rising ground or heap of rocks; so it is not always = our mountain. It has found its way to Europe e. g. Gibraltar and Monte Gibello (or Mongibel in poetry) “Mt. Ethne that men clepen Mounte Gybelle.” Other special senses of Jabal will occur.
3 As we learn from the Nubian Geographer the Arabs in early ages explored the Fortunate Islands (Jazírát al-Khálidát=Eternal Isles), or Canaries, on one of which were reported a horse and horseman in bronze with his spear pointing west. Ibn al-Ward) notes two images of hard stone, each an hundred cubits high, and upon the top of each a figure of copper pointing with its hand backwards, as though it would say:— Return for there is nothing behind me!” But this legend attaches to older doings. The 23rd Tobba (who succeeded Bilkis), Malik bin Sharhabíl, (or Sharabíl or Sharahíl) surnamed Náshir al-Ní‘am=scatterer of blessings, lost an army in attempting the Western sands and set up a statue of copper upon whose breast was inscribed in antique characters:—
There is no access behind me,
Nothing beyond,
(Saith) The Son of Sharabíl.
4 i.e. I exclaimed “Bismillah!”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the third Kalandar said to the lady (the rest of the party sitting fast bound and the slaves standing with swords drawn over their heads):— And after calling on the name of Almighty Allah and passionately beseeching Him, I breasted the ascent, clinging to the steps and notches hewn in the stone, and mounted little by little. And the Lord stilled the wind and aided me in the ascent, so that I succeeded in reaching the summit. There I found no resting place save the dome, which I entered, joying with exceeding joy at my escape; and made the Wuzu-ablution1 and prayed a two bow prayer,2 a thanksgiving to God for my preservation. Then I fell asleep under the dome, and heard in my dream a mysterious Voice3 saying, “O son of Khazib! when thou wakest from thy sleep dig under thy feet and thou shalt find a bow of brass and three leaden arrows, inscribed with talismans and characts. Take the bow and shoot the arrows at the horseman on the dome top and free mankind from this sore calamity. When thou hast shot him he shall fall into the sea, and the horse will also drop at thy feet: then bury it in the place of the bow. This done, the main will swell and rise till it is level with the mountain head, and there will appear on it a skiff carrying a man of laton (other than he thou shalt have shot) holding in his hand a pair of paddles. He will come to thee and do thou embark with him but beware of saying Bismillah or of otherwise naming Allah Almighty. He will row thee for a space of ten days, till he bring thee to certain Islands called the Islands of Safety, and thence thou shalt easily reach a port and find those who will convey thee to thy native land; and all this shall be fulfilled to thee so thou call not on the name of Allah.” Then I started up from my sleep in joy and gladness and, hastening to do the bidding of the mysterious Voice, found the bow and arrows and shot at the horseman and tumbled him into the main, whilst the horse dropped at my feet; so I took it and buried it. Presently the sea surged up and rose till it reached the top of the mountain; nor had I long to wait ere I saw a skiff in the offing coming towards me. I gave thanks to Allah; and, when the skiff came up to me, I saw therein a man of brass with a tablet of lead on his breast inscribed with talismans and characts; and I embarked without uttering a word. The boatman rowed on with me through the first day and the second and the third, in all ten whole days, till I caught sight of the Islands of Safety; whereat I joyed with exceeding joy and for stress of gladness exclaimed, “Allah! Allah! In the name of Allah! There is no god but the God and Allah is Almighty.’’4 Thereupon the skiff forthwith upset and cast me upon the sea; then it righted and sank deep into the depths. Now I am a fair swimmer, so I swam the whole day till nightfall, when my forearms and shoulders were numbed with fatigue and I felt like to die; so I testified to my faith, expecting naught but death. The sea was still surging under the violence of the winds, and presently there came a billow like a hillock; and, bearing me up high in air, threw me with a long cast on dry land, that His will might be fulfilled. I crawled up the beach and doffing my raiment wrung it out to dry and spread it in the sunshine: then I lay me down and slept the whole night. As soon as it was day, I donned my clothes and rose to look whither I should walk. Presently I came to a thicket of low trees; and, making a cast round it, found that the spot whereon I stood was an islet, a mere holm, girt on all sides by the ocean; whereupon I said to myself, “Whatso freeth me from one great calamity casteth me into a greater!” But while I was pondering my case and longing for death behold, I saw afar off a ship making for the island; so I clomb a tree and hid myself among the branches. Presently the ship anchored and landed ten slaves, blackamoors, bearing iron hoes and baskets, who walked on till they reached the middle of the island. Here they dug deep into the ground, until they uncovered a plate of metal which they lifted, thereby opening a trap door. After this they returned to the ship and thence brought bread and flour, honey and fruits, clarified butter,5 leather bottles containing liquors and many household stuffs; also furniture, table service and mirrors rugs, carpets and in fact all needed to furnish a dwelling; and they kept going to and fro, and descending by the trap door, till they had transported into the dwelling all that was in the ship. After this the slaves again went on board and brought back with them garments as rich as may be, and in the midst of them came an old, old man, of whom very little was left, for Time had dealt hardly and harshly with him, and all that remained of him was a bone wrapped in a rag of blue stuff through which the winds whistled west and east. As saith the poet of him:—
Time gars me tremble Ah, how sore the baulk!
While Time in pride of strength cloth ever stalk:
Time was I walked nor ever felt I tired,
Now am I tired albe I never walk!
And the Shaykh held by the hand a youth cast in beauty’s mould, all elegance and perfect grace; so fair that his comeliness deserved to be proverbial; for he was as a green bough or the tender young of the roe, ravishing every heart with his loveliness and subduing every soul with his coquetry and amorous ways.6 It was of him the poet spake when he said:—
Beauty they brought with him to make compare,
But Beauty hung her head in shame and care:
Quoth’ they, “O Beauty, hast thou seen his like?”
And Beauty cried, “His like? not anywhere!”
They stinted not their going, O my lady, till all went down by the trap door and did not reappear for an hour, or rather more; at the end of which time the slaves and the old man came up without the youth and, replacing the iron plate and carefully closing the door slab as it was before, they returned to the ship and made sail and were lost to my sight. When they turned away to depart, I came down from the tree and, going to the place I had seen them fill up, scraped off and removed the earth; and in patience possessed my soul till I had cleared the whole of it away. Then appeared the trap door which was of wood, in shape and size like a millstone; and when I lifted it up it disclosed a winding staircase of stone. At this I marvelled and, descending the steps till I reached the last, found a fair hall, spread with various kinds of carpets and silk stuffs, wherein was a youth sitting upon a raised couch and leaning back on a round cushion with a fan in his hand and nosegays and posies of sweet scented herbs and flowers before him;7 but he was alone and not a soul near him in the great vault. When he saw me he turned pale; but I saluted him courteously and said, “Set thy mind at ease and calm thy fears; no harm shall come near thee; I am a man like thyself and the son of a King to boot; whom the decrees of Destiny have sent to bear thee company and cheer thee in thy loneliness. But now tell me, what is thy story and what causeth thee to dwell thus in solitude under the ground?” When he was assured that I was of his kind and no Jinni, he rejoiced and his fine colour returned; and, making me draw near to him he said, “O my brother, my story is a strange story and ’tis this. My father is a merchant-jeweller possessed of great wealth, who hath white and black slaves travelling and trading on his account in ships and on camels, and trafficking with the most distant cities; but he was not blessed with a child, not even one. Now on a certain night he dreamed a dream that he should be favoured with a son, who would be short lived; so the morning dawned on my father bringing him woe and weeping. On the following night my mother conceived and my father noted down the date of her becoming pregnant.8 Her time being fulfilled she bare me; whereat my father rejoiced and made banquets and called together the neighbors and fed the Fakirs and the poor, for that he had been blessed with issue near the end of his days. Then he assembled the astrologers and astronomers who knew the places of the planets, and the wizards and wise ones of the time, and men learned in horoscopes and nativities,9 and they drew out my birth scheme and said to my father, “Thy son shall live to fifteen years, but in his fifteenth there is a sinister aspect; an he safely tide it over he shall attain a great age. And the cause that threateneth him with death is this. In the Sea of Peril standeth the Mountain Magnet hight; on whose summit is a horseman of yellow laton seated on a horse also of brass and bearing on his breast a tablet of lead. Fifty days after this rider shall fall from his steed thy son will die and his slayer will be he who shoots down the horseman, a Prince named Ajib son of King Khazib.” My father grieved with exceeding grief to hear these words; but reared me in tenderest fashion and educated me excellently well until my fifteenth year was told. Ten days ago news came to him that the horseman had fallen into the sea and he who shot him down was named Ajib son of King Khazib. My father thereupon wept bitter tears at the need of parting with me and became like one possessed of a Jinni. However, being in mortal fear for me, he built me this place under the earth; and, stocking it with all required for the few days still remaining, he brought me hither in a ship and left me here. Ten are already past and, when the forty shall have gone by without danger to me, he will come and take me away; for he hath done all this only in fear of Prince Ajib. Such, then, is my story and the cause of my loneliness.” When I heard his history I marvelled and said in my mind, “I am the Prince Ajib who hath done all this; but as Allah is with me I will surely not slay him!” So said I to him, “O my lord, far from thee be this hurt and harm and then, please Allah, thou shalt not suffer cark nor care nor aught disquietude, for I will tarry with thee and serve thee as a servant, and then wend my ways; and after having borne thee company during the forty days, I will go with thee to thy home where thou shalt give me an escort of some of thy Mamelukes with whom I may journey back to my own city; and the Almighty shall requite thee for me.” He was glad to hear these words, when I rose and lighted a large wax candle and trimmed the ramps end the three lanterns; and I set on meat and drink and sweetmeats. We ate and drank and sat talking over various matters till the greater part of the night was gone; when he lay down to rest and I covered him up and went to sleep myself. Next morning I arose and warmed a little water, then lifted him gently so as to awake him and brought him the warm water wherewith he washed his face10 and said to me, “Heaven requite thee for me with every blessing, O youth! By Allah, if I get quit of this danger and am saved from him whose name is Ajib bin Khazib, I will make my father reward thee and send thee home healthy and wealthy; and, if I die, then my blessing be upon thee.” I answered, “May the day never dawn on which evil shall betide thee; and may Allah make my last day before thy last day!” Then I set before him somewhat of food and we ate; and I got ready perfumes for fumigating the hall, wherewith he was pleased. Moreover I made him a Mankalah-cloth;11 and we played and ate sweetmeats and we played again and took our pleasure till nightfall, when I rose and lighted the lamps, and set before him somewhat to eat, and sat telling him stories till the hours of darkness were far spent. Then he lay down to rest and I covered him up and rested also. And thus I continued to do, O my lady, for days and nights and affection for him took root in my heart and my sorrow was eased, and I said to myself, “The astrologers lied12 when they predicted that he should be slain by Ajib bin Khazib: by Allah, I will not slay him.” I ceased not ministering to him and conversing and carousing with him and telling him all manner tales for thirty nine days. On the fortieth night13 the youth rejoiced and said, “O my brother, Alhamdo, lillah! — praise be to Allah — who hath preserved me from death and this is by thy blessing and the blessing of thy coming to me and I pray God that He restore thee to thy native land. But now, O my brother, I would thou warm me some water for the Ghusl ablution and do thou kindly bathe me and change my clothes.” I replied, “With love and gladness;” and I heated water in plenty and carrying it in to him washed his body all over the washing of health,14 with meal of lupins15 and rubbed him well and changed his clothes and spread him a high bed whereon he lay down to rest, being drowsy after bathing. Then said he, “O my brother, cut me up a water melon, and sweeten it with a little sugar candy.”16 So I went to the store room and bringing out a fine water melon I found there, set it on a platter and laid it before him saying, “O my master hast thou not a knife?” “Here it is,” answered he, “over my head upon the high shelf.” So I got up in haste and taking the knife drew it from its sheath; but my foot slipped in stepping down and I fell heavily upon the youth holding in my hand the knife which hastened to fulfil what had been written on the Day that decided the destinies of man, and buried itself, as if planted, in the youth’s heart. He died on the instant. When I saw that he was slain and knew that I had slain him, maugre myself, I cried out with an exceeding loud and bitter cry and beat my face and rent my raiment and said, “Verily we be Allah’s and unto Him we be returning, O Moslems! O folk fain of Allah! there remained for this youth but one day of the forty dangerous days which the astrologers and the learned had foretold for him; and the predestined death of this beautiful one was to be at my hand. Would Heaven I had not tried to cut the watermelon. What dire misfortune is this I must bear fief or loath? What a disaster! What an affliction! O Allah mine, I implore thy pardon and declare to Thee my innocence of his death. But what God willeth let that come to pass.’’17 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The lesser ablution of hands, face and feet; a kind of “washing the points.” More in Night ccccxl.
2 Arab. “Ruka’tayn”; the number of these bows which are followed by the prostrations distinguishes the five daily prayers.
3 The “Beth Kol” of the Hebrews; also called by the Moslems “Hátif”; for which ask the Spiritualists. It is the Hindu “voice divine” or “voice from heaven.”
4 These formulae are technically called Tasmiyah, Tahlil (before noted) and Takbír: i.e. “testifying” is Tashhíd.
5 Arab. “Samn,” (Pers. “Raughan” Hind. “Ghi”) the “single sauce” of the East; fresh butter set upon the fire, skimmed and kept (for a century if required) in leather bottles and demijohns. Then it becomes a hard black mass, considered a panacea for wounds and diseases. It is very “filling”: you say jocosely to an Eastern threatened with a sudden inroad of guests, “Go, swamp thy rice with Raughan.” I once tried training, like a Hindu Pahlawan or athlete, on Gur (raw sugar), milk and Ghi; and the result was being blinded by bile before the week ended.
6 These handsome youths are always described in the terms we should apply to women.
7 The Bull Edit. (i. 43) reads otherwise:— I found a garden and a second and a third and so on till they numbered thirty and nine; and, in each garden, I saw what praise will not express, of trees and rills and fruits and treasures. At the end of the last I sighted a door and said to myself, “What may be in this place?; needs must I open it and look in!” I did so accordingly and saw a courser ready saddled and bridled and picketed; so I loosed and mounted him, and he flew with me like a bird till he set me down on a terrace-roof; and, having landed me, he struck me a whisk with his tail and put out mine eye and fled from me. Thereupon I descended from the roof and found ten youths all blind of one eye who, when they saw me exclaimed, “No welcome to thee, and no good cheer!” I asked them, “Do ye admit me to your home and society?” and they answered, “No, by Allah’ thou shalt not live amongst us.” So I went forth with weeping eyes and grieving heart, but Allah had written my safety on the Guarded Tablet so I reached Baghdad in safety, etc. This is a fair specimen of how the work has been curtailed in that issue.
8 Arabs date pregnancy from the stopping of the menses, upon which the fœtus is supposed to feed. Kalilah wa Dimnah says, “The child’s navel adheres to that of his mother and thereby he sucks” (i. 263).
9 This is contrary to the commands of Al–Islam, Mohammed expressly said “The Astrologers are liars, by the Lord of the Ka’abah!”; and his saying is known to almost all Moslems, lettered or unlettered. Yet, the further we go East (Indiawards) the more we find these practices held in honour. Turning westwards we have:
Iuridicis, Erebo, Fisco, fas vivere rapto:
Militibus, Medicis, Tortori occidere ludo est;
Mentiri Astronomis, Pictoribus atque Poetis.
10 He does not perform the Wuzu or lesser ablution because he neglects his dawn prayers.
11 For this game see Lane (M. E. Chapt. xvii.) It is usually played on a checked cloth not on a board like our draughts; and Easterns are fond of eating, drinking and smoking between and even during the games. Torrens (p. 142) translates “I made up some dessert,” confounding “Mankalah” with “Nukl” (dried fruit, quatre-mendiants).
12 Quoted from Mohammed whose saying has been given.
13 We should say “the night of the thirty-ninth.”
14 The bath first taken after sickness.
15 Arab. “Dikák” used by way of soap or rather to soften the skin: the meal is usually of lupins, “Adas”=“Revalenta Arabica,” which costs a penny in Egypt and half-a-crown in England.
16 Arab. “Sukkar-nabát.” During my day (1842–49) we had no other sugar in the Bombay Presidency.
17 This is one of the myriad Arab instances that the decrees of “Anagké,” Fate, Destiny, Weird, are inevitable. The situation is highly dramatic; and indeed The Nights, as will appear in the Terminal Essay, have already suggested a national drama.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ajib thus continued his tale to the lady:— When I was certified that I had slain him, I arose and ascending the stairs replaced the trap- door and covered it with earth as before. Then I looked out seawards and saw the ship cleaving the waters and making for the island, wherefore I was afeard and said, “The moment they come and see the youth done to death, they will know ’twas I who slew him and will slay me without respite.” So I climbed up into a high tree and concealed myself among its leaves; and hardly had I done so when the ship anchored and the slaves landed with the ancient man, the youth’s father, and made direct for the place and when they removed the earth they were surprised to see it soft.1 Then they raised the trap door and went down and found the youth lying at full length, clothed in fair new garments, with a face beaming after the bath, and the knife deep in his heart. At the sight they shrieked and wept and beat their faces, loudly cursing the murderer; whilst a swoon came over the Shaykh so that the slaves deemed him dead, unable to survive his son. At last they wrapped the slain youth in his clothes and carried him up and laid him on the ground covering him with a shroud of silk. Whilst they were making for the ship the old man revived; and, gazing on his son who was stretched out, fell on the ground and strewed dust over his head and smote his face and plucked out his beard; and his weeping redoubled as he thought of his murdered son and he swooned away once more. After awhile a slave went and fetched a strip of silk whereupon they lay the old man and sat down at his head. All this took place and I was on the tree above them watching everything that came to pass; and my heart became hoary before my head waxed grey, for the hard lot which was mine, and for the distress and anguish I had undergone, and I fell to reciting:—
“How many a joy by Allah’s will hath fled
With flight escaping sight of wisest head!
How many a sadness shall begin the day,
Yet grow right gladsome ere the day is sped!
How many a weal trips on the heels of ill,
Causing the mourner’s heart with joy to thrill!”2
But the old man, O my lady, ceased not from his swoon till near sunset, when he came to himself and, looking upon his dead son, he recalled what had happened, and how what he had dreaded had come to pass; and he beat his face and head and recited these couplets:—
“Racked is my heart by parting fro’ my friends
And two rills ever fro’ my eyelids flow:
With them3 went forth my hopes, Ah, well away!
What shift remaineth me to say or do?
Would I had never looked upon their sight,
What shift, fair sirs, when paths e’er strainer grow?
What charm shall calm my pangs when this wise burn
Longings of love which in my vitals glow?
Would I had trod with them the road of Death!
Ne’er had befel us twain this parting blow:
Allah: I pray the Truthful show me Roth
And mix our lives nor part them evermo’e!
How blest were we as ‘death one roof we dwelt
Conjoined in joys nor recking aught of woe;
Till Fortune shot us pith the severance shaft;
Ah who shall patient bear such parting throe?
And dart of Death struck down amid the tribe
The age’s pearl that Morn saw brightest show:
I cried the while his case took speech and said:—
Would Heaven, my son, Death mote his doom foreslow!
Which be the readiest road wi’ thee to meet
My Son! for whom I would my soul bestow?
If sun I call him no! the sun cloth set;
If moon I call him, wane the moons; Ah no!
O sad mischance o’ thee, O doom of days,
Thy place none other love shall ever know:
Thy sire distracted sees thee, but despairs
By wit or wisdom Fate to overthrow:
Some evil eye this day hath cast its spell
And foul befal him as it foul betel!”
Then he sobbed a single sob and his soul fled his flesh. The slaves shrieked aloud, “Alas, our lord!” and showered dust on their heads and redoubled their weeping and wailing. Presently they carried their dead master to the ship side by side with his dead son and, having transported all the stuff from the dwelling to the vessel, set sail and disappeared from mine eyes. I descended from the tree and, raising the trap-door, went down into the underground dwelling where everything reminded me of the youth; and I looked upon the poor remains of him and began repeating these verses:—
“Their tracks I see, and pine with pain and pang
And on deserted hearths I weep and yearn:
And Him I pray who doomed them depart
Some day vouchsafe the boon of safe return.’’4
Then, O my lady, I went up again by the trap-door, and every day I used to wander round about the island and every night I returned to the underground hall. Thus I lived for a month, till at last, looking at the western side of the island, I observed that every day the fibs ebbed, leaving shallow water for which the flow did not compensate; and by the end of the month the sea showed dry land in that direction. At this I rejoiced making certain of my safety; so I arose and fording what little was left of the water got me to the mainland, where I fell in with great heaps of loose sand in which even a camel’s hoof would sink up to the knee.5 However I emboldened my soul and wading through the sand behold, a fire shone from afar burning with a brazing light.6 So I made for it hoping haply to find succour, and broke out into these verses:—
“Belike Fortune may her bridle turn
And Time bring weal although he’s jealous hight;
Forward my hopes, and further all my needs,
And passed ills with present weals requite.”
And when I drew near the fire aforesaid lo! it was a palace with gates of copper burnished red which, when the rising sun shone thereon, gleamed and glistened from afar showing what had seemed to me a fire. I rejoiced in the sight, and sat down over against the gate, but I was hardly settled in my seat before there met me ten young men clothed in sumptuous gear and all were blind of the left eye which appeared as plucked out. They were accompanied by a Shaykh, an old, old man, and much I marvelled at their appearance, and their all being blind of the same eye When they saw me, they saluted me with the Salam and asked me of my case and my history; whereupon I related to them all what had befallen me, and what full measure of misfortune was mine. Marvelling at my tale they took me to the mansion, where I saw ranged round the hall ten couches each with its blue bedding and coverlet of blue stuff7 and amiddlemost stood a smaller couch furnished like them with blue and nothing else. As we entered each of the youths took his seat on his own couch and the old man seated himself upon the smaller one in the middle saying to me, “O youth, sit thee down on the floor and ask not of our case nor of the loss of our eyes.” Presently he rose up and set before each young man some meat in a charger and drink in a large mazer, treating me in like manner; and after that they sat questioning me concerning my adventures and what had betided me: and I kept telling them my tale till the night was far spent. Then said the young men, “O our Shaykh, wilt not thou set be fore us our ordinary? The time is come.” He replied, “With love and gladness,” and rose and entering a closet disappeared, but presently returned bearing on his head ten trays each covered with a strip of blue stuff. He set a tray before each youth and, lighting ten wax candles, he stuck one upon each tray, and drew off the covers and lo! under them was naught but ashes and powdered charcoal and kettle soot. Then all the young men tucked up their sleeves to the elbows and fell a weeping and wailing and they blackened their faces and smeared their clothes and buffetted their brows and beat their breasts, continually exclaiming, “We were sitting at our ease but our frowardness brought us unease! “ They ceased not to do this till dawn drew nigh, when the old man rose and heated water for them; and they washed their faces, and donned other and clean clothes. Now when I saw this, O my lady, for very wonderment my senses left me and my wits went wild and heart and head were full of thought, till I forgot what had betided me and I could not keep silence feeling I fain must speak out and question them of these strangenesses; so I said to them, “How come ye to do this after we have been so open hearted and frolicksome? Thanks be to Allah ye be all sound and sane, yet actions such as these befit none but mad men or those possessed of an evil spirit. I conjure you by all that is dearest to you, why stint ye to tell me your history, and the cause of your losing your eyes and your blackening your faces with ashes and soot?” Hereupon they turned to me and said, “O young man, hearken not to thy youthtide’s suggestions and question us no questions.” Then they slept and I with them and when they awoke the old man brought us somewhat of food; and, after we had eaten and the plates and goblets had been removed, they sat conversing till night fall when the old man rose and lit the wax candles and lamps and set meat and drink before us. After we had eaten and drunken we sat conversing and carousing in companionage till the noon of night, when they said to the old man, “Bring us our ordinary, for the hour of sleep is at hand!” So he rose and brought them the trays of soot and ashes; and they did as they had done on the preceding night, nor more, nor less. I abode with them after this fashion for the space of a month during which time they used to blacken their faces with ashes every night, and to wash and change their raiment when the morn was young; and I but marvelled the more and my scruples and curiosity increased to such a point that I had to forego even food and drink. At last, I lost command of myself, for my heart was aflame with fire unquenchable and lowe unconcealable and I said, “O young men, will ye not relieve my trouble and acquaint me with the reason of thus blackening your faces and the meaning of your words:— We were sitting at our ease but our frowardness brought us unease?” Quoth they “’Twere better to keep these things secret.” Still I was bewildered by their doings to the point of abstaining from eating and drinking and, at last wholly losing patience, quoth I to them, There is no help for it: ye must acquaint me with what is the reason of these doings.” They replied, “We kept our secret only for thy good: to gratify thee will bring down evil upon thee and thou wilt become a monocular even as we are.” I repeated “There is no help for it and, if ye will not, let me leave you and return to mine own people and be at rest from seeing these things, for the proverb saith:—
Better ye ’bide and I take my leave:
For what eye sees not heart shall never grieve.”
Thereupon they said to me, “Remember, O youth, that should ill befal thee we will not again harbour thee nor suffer thee to abide amongst us;” and bringing a ram they slaughtered it and skinned it. Lastly they gave me a knife saying, “Take this skin and stretch thyself upon it and we will sew it around thee, presently there shall come to thee a certain bird, hight Rukh,8 that will catch thee up in his pounces and tower high in air and then set thee down on a mountain. When thou feelest he is no longer flying, rip open the pelt with this blade and come out of it; the bird will be scared and will fly away and leave thee free. After this fare for half a day, and the march will place thee at a palace wondrous fair to behold, towering high in air and builded of Khalanj9, lign-aloes and sandal-wood, plated with red gold, and studded with all manner emeralds and costly gems fit for seal rings. Enter it and thou shalt win to thy wish for we have all entered that palace; and such is the cause of our losing our eyes and of our blackening our faces. Were we now to tell thee our stories it would take too long a time; for each and every of us lost his left eye by an adventure of his own.” I rejoiced at their words and they did with me as they said; and the bird Rukh bore me off end set me down on the mountain. Then I came out of the skin and walked on till I reached the palace. The door stood open as I entered and found myself in a spacious and goodly hall, wide exceedingly, even as a horse-course; and around it were an hundred chambers with doors of sandal and aloes woods plated with red gold and furnished with silver rings by way of knockers.10 At the head or upper end11 of the hall I saw forty damsels, sumptuously dressed and ornamented and one and all bright as moons; none could ever tire of gazing upon them and all so lovely that the most ascetic devotee on seeing them would become their slave and obey their will. When they saw me the whole bevy came up to me and said “Welcome and well come and good cheer12 to thee, O our lord! This whole month have we been expecting thee. Praised be Allah who hath sent us one who is worthy of us, even as we are worthy of him!” Then they made me sit down upon a high divan and said to me, “This day thou art our lord and master, and we are thy servants and thy hand-maids, so order us as thou wilt.” And I marvelled at their case. Presently one of them arose and set meat before me and I ate and they ate with me; whilst others warmed water and washed my hands and feet and changed my clothes and others made ready sherbets and gave us to drink; and all gathered around me being full of joy and gladness at my coming. Then they sat down and conversed with me till nightfall, when five of them arose and laid the trays and spread them with flowers and fragrant herbs and fruits, fresh and dried, and confections in profusion. At last they brought out a fine wine service with rich old wine; and we sat down to drink and some sang songs and others played the lute and psaltery and recorders and other instruments, and the bowl went merrily round. Hereupon such gladness possessed me that I forgot the sorrows of the world one and all and said, “This is indeed life; O sad that ’tis fleeting!” I enjoyed their company till the time came for rest; and our heads were all warm with wine, when they said, “O our lord, choose from amongst us her who shall be thy bed-fellow this night and not lie with thee again till forty days be past.” So I chose a girl fair of face and perfect in shape, with eyes Kohl-edged by nature’s hand;13 hair long and jet black with slightly parted teeth14 and joining brows: ‘twas as if she were some limber graceful branchlet or the slender stalk of sweet basil to amaze and to bewilder man’s fancy, even as the poet said of such an one —
To even her with greeny bough were vain
Fool he who finds her beauties in the roe:
When hath the roe those lively lovely limbs
Or honey dews those lips alone bestow?
Those eyne, soul piercing eyne, which slay with love,
Which bind the victim by their shafts laid low?
My heart to second childhood they beguiled
No wonder: love sick-man again is child!
And I repeated to her the maker’s words who said:—
“None other charms but thine shall greet mine eyes,
Nor other image can my heart surprise:
Thy love, my lady, captives all my thoughts
And on that love I’ll die and I’ll arise.
So I lay with her that night; none fairer I ever knew; and, when it was morning, the damsels carried me to the Hammam bath and bathed me and robed me in fairest apparel. Then they served up food, and we ate and drank and the cup went round till nightfall when I chose from among them one fair of form and face, soft-sided and a model of grace, such an one as the poet described when he said. —
On her fair bosom caskets twain I scanned,
Sealed fast with musk seals lovers to withstand
With arrowy glances stand on guard her eyes,
Whose shafts would shoot who dares put forth a hand.
With her I spent a most goodly night; and, to be brief, O my mistress, I remained with them in all solace and delight of life, eating and drinking, conversing and carousing and every night lying with one or other of them. But at the head of the new year they came to me in tears and bade me farewell, weeping and crying out and clinging about me: whereat I wondered and said, “What may be the matter? verily you break my heart!” They exclaimed, “Would Heaven we had never known thee; for, though we have companies with many, yet never saw we a pleasanter than thou or a more courteous.” And they wept again. “But tell me more clearly,” asked I, “what causeth this weeping which maketh my gall-bladder15 like to burst;” and they answered, “O our lord and master, it is severance which maketh us weep; and thou, and thou only, art the cause of our tears. If thou hearken to us we need never be parted and if thou hearken not we part for ever; but our hearts tell us that thou wilt not listen to our words and this is the cause of our tears and cries.” “Tell me how the case standeth?” “Know, O our lord, that we are the daughters of Kings who have met here and have lived together for years; and once in every year we are perforce absent for forty days; and afterwards we return and abide here for the rest of the twelve month eating and drinking and taking our pleasure and enjoying delights: we are about to depart according to our custom; and we fear lest after we be gone thou contraire our charge and disobey our injunctions. Here now we commit to thee the keys of the palace which containeth forty chambers and thou mayest open of these thirty and nine, but beware (and we conjure thee by Allah and by the lives of us!) lest thou open the fortieth door, for therein is that which shall separate us for ever.”16 Quoth I, “Assuredly I will not open it, if it contain the cause of severance from you.” Then one among them came up to me and falling on my neck wept and recited these verses. —
“If Time unite us after absent while,
The world harsh frowning on our lot shall smile
And if thy semblance deign adorn mine eyes,17
I’ll pardon Time past wrongs and by gone guile.”
And I recited the following:—
“When drew she near to bid adieu with heart unstrung,
While care and longing on that day her bosom wrung
Wet pearls she wept and mine like red carnelians rolled
And, joined in sad rivière, around her neck they hung.”
When I saw her weeping I said, “By Allah I will never open that fortieth door, never and no wise!” and I bade her farewell. Thereupon all departed flying away like birds; signalling with their hands farewells as they went and leaving me alone in the palace. When evening drew near I opened the door of the first chamber and entering it found myself in a place like one of the pleasaunces of Paradise. It was a garden with trees of freshest green and ripe fruits of yellow sheen; and its birds were singing clear and keen and nils ran wimpling through the fair terrene. The sight and sounds brought solace to my sprite; and I walked among the trees, and I smelt the breath of the flowers on the breeze; and heard the birdies sing their melodies hymning the One, the Almighty in sweetest litanies; and I looked upon the apple whose hue is parcel red and parcel yellow; as said the poet:—
Apple whose hue combines in union mellow
My fair’s red cheek, her hapless lover’s yellow.
Then I looked upon the quince, and inhaled its fragrance which to shame musk and ambergris, even as the poet hath said:
Quince every taste conjoins; in her are found
Gifts which for queen of fruits the Quince have crowned
Her taste is wine, her scent the waft of musk;
Pure gold her hue, her shape the Moon’s fair round.
Then I looked upon the pear whose taste surpasseth sherbet and sugar; and the apricot18 whose beauty striketh the eye with admiration, as if she were a polished ruby. Then I went out of the place and locked the door as it was before. When it was the morrow I opened the second door; and entering found myself in a spacious plain set with tall date palms and watered by a running stream whose banks were shrubbed with bushes of rose and jasmine, while privet and eglantine, oxe-eye, violet and lily, narcissus, origane and the winter gilliflower carpeted the borders; and the breath of the breeze swept over these sweet smelling growths diffusing their delicious odours right and left, perfuming the world and filling my soul with delight. After taking my pleasure there awhile I went from it and, having closed the door as it was before, opened the third door wherein I saw a high open hall pargetted with parti-coloured marbles and pietra dura of price and other precious stones, and hung with cages of sandal-wood and eagle-wood; full of birds which made sweet music, such as the Thousand voiced,19 and the cushat, the merle, the turtle-dove and the Nubian ring dove. My heart was filled with pleasure thereby; my grief was dispelled and I slept in that aviary till dawn. Then I undocked the door of the fourth chamber and there in found a grand saloon with forty smaller chambers giving upon it. All their doors stood open: so I entered and found them full of pearls and jacinths and beryls and emeralds and corals and car buncles, and all manner precious gems and jewels, such as tongue of man may not describe. My thought was stunned at the sight and I said to myself, “These be things methinks united which could not be found save in the treasuries of a King of Kings, nor could the monarchs of the world have collected the like of these!” And my heart dilated and my sorrows ceased, “For,” quoth I, “now verily am I the monarch of the age, since by Allah’s grace this enormous wealth is mine; and I have forty damsels under my hand nor is there any to claim them save myself.” Then I gave not over opening place after place until nine and thirty days were passed and in that time I had entered every chamber except that one whose door the Princesses had charged me not to open. But my thoughts, O my mistress, ever ran on that forbidden fortieth20 and Satan urged me to open it for my own undoing; nor had I patience to forbear, albeit there wanted of the trysting time but a single day. So I stood before the chamber aforesaid and, after a moment’s hesitation, opened the door which was plated with red gold, and entered. I was met by a perfume whose like I had never before smelt; and so sharp and subtle was the odour that it made my senses drunken as with strong wine, and I fell to the ground in a fainting fit which lasted a full hour. When I came to myself I strengthened my heart and, entering, found myself in a chamber whose floor was bespread with saffron and blazing with light from branched candelabra of gold and lamps fed with costly oils, which diffused the scent of musk and ambergris. I saw there also two great censers each big as a mazer-bowl,21 flaming with lign-aloes, nadd- perfume,22 ambergris and honied scents; and the place was full of their fragrance. Presently, O my lady, I espied a noble steed, black as the murks of night when murkiest, standing, ready saddled and bridled (and his saddle was of red gold) before two mangers, one of clear crystal wherein was husked sesame, and the other also of crystal containing water of the rose scented with musk. When I saw this I marvelled and said to myself, “Doubtless in this animal must be some wondrous mystery;” and Satan cozened me, so I led him without the palace end mounted him, but he would not stir from his place. So I hammered his sides with my heels, but he moved not, and then I took the rein whip,23 and struck him withal. When he felt the blow, he neighed a neigh with a sound like deafening thunder and, opening a pair of wings24 flew up with me in the firmament of heaven far beyond the eyesight of man. After a full hour of flight he descended and alighted on a terrace roof and shaking me off his back lashed me on the face with his tail and gouged out my left eye causing it roll along my cheek. Then he flew away. I went down from the terrace and found myself again amongst the ten one eyed youths sitting upon their ten couches with blue covers; and they cried out when they saw me, “No welcome to thee, nor aught of good cheer! We all lived of lives the happiest and we ate and drank of the best; upon brocades and cloths of gold we took rest and we slept with our heads on beauty’s breast, but we could not await one day to gain the delights of a year!” Quoth I, “Behold I have become one like unto you and now I would have you bring me a tray full of blackness, wherewith to blacken my face, and receive me into your society.” “No, by Allah,” quoth they, “thou shalt not sojourn with us and now get thee hence!” So they drove me away. Finding them reject me thus I foresaw that matters would go hard with me, and I remembered the many miseries which Destiny had written upon my forehead; and I fared forth from among them heavy hearted and tearful eyed, repeating to myself these words, “I was sitting at mine ease but my frowardness brought me to unease.” Then I shaved beard and mustachios and eye brows, renouncing the world, and wan dered in Kalandar garb about Allah’s earth; and the Almighty decreed safety for me till I arrived at Baghdad, which was on the evening of this very night. Here I met these two other Kalandars standing bewildered; so I saluted them saying, “I am a stranger!” and they answered, “And we likewise be strangers!” By the freak of Fortune we were like to like, three Kalandars and three monoculars all blind of the left eye. Such, O my lady, is the cause of the shearing of my beard and the manner of my losing an eye. Said the lady to him, “Rub thy head and wend thy ways;” but he answered, “By Allah, I will not go until I hear the stories of these others.” Then the lady, turning towards the Caliph and Ja’afar and Masrur, said to them, “Do ye also give an account of yourselves, you men!” Whereupon Ja’afar stood forth and told her what he had told the portress as they were entering the house; and when she heard his story of their being merchants and Mosul men who had outrun the watch, she said, “I grant you your lives each for each sake, and now away with you all.” So they all went out and when they were in the street, quoth the Caliph to the Kalandars, “O company, whither go ye now, seeing that the morning hath not yet dawned?” Quoth they, “By Allah, O our lord, we know not where to go.” “Come and pass the rest of the night with us,” said the Caliph and, turning to Ja’afar, “Take them home with thee and to morrow bring them to my presence that we may chronicle their adventures.” Ja’afar did as the Caliph bade him and the Commander of the Faithful returned to his palace; but sleep gave no sign of visiting him that night and he lay awake pondering the mishaps of the three Kalandar princes and impatient to know the history of the ladies and the two black bitches. No sooner had morning dawned than he went forth and sat upon the throne of his sovereignty; and, turning to Ja’afar, after all his Grandees and Officers of state were gathered together, he said, “Bring me the three ladies and the two bitches and the three Kalandars.” So Ja’afar fared forth and brought them all before him (and the ladies were veiled); then the Minister turned to them and said in the Caliph s name, “We pardon you your maltreatment of us and your want of courtesy, in consideration of the kindness which forewent it, and for that ye knew us not: now however I would have you to know that ye stand in presence of the fifth25 of the sons of Abbas, Harun al-Rashid, brother of Caliph Músá al-Hádi, son of Al–Mansúr; son of Mohammed the brother of Al–Saffáh bin Mohammed who was first of the royal house. Speak ye therefore before him the truth and the whole truth!” When the ladies heard Ja afar’s words touching the Commander of the Faithful, the eldest came forward and said, “O Prince of True Believers, my story is one which, were it graven with needle-gravers upon the eye corners were a warner for whoso would be warned and an example for whoso can take profit from example.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Having lately been moved by Ajib.
2 Mr. Payne (i. 131) omits these lines which appear out of place; but this mode of inappropriate quotation is a characteristic of Eastern tales.
3 Anglicè “him.”
4 This march of the tribe is a lieu commun of Arab verse e.g. the poet Labid’s noble elegy on the “Deserted Camp.” We shall find scores of instances in The Nights.
5 I have heard of such sands in the Desert east of Damascus which can be crossed only on boards or camel furniture; and the same is reported of the infamous Region “Al–Ahkláf” (“Unexplored Syria”).
6 Hence the Arab. saying “The bark of a dog and not the gleam of a fire;” the tired traveller knows from the former that the camp is near, whereas the latter shows from great distances.
7 Dark blue is the colour of mourning in Egypt as it was of the Roman Republic. The Persians hold that this tint was introduced by Kay Kawús (B. C. 600) when mourning for his son Siyáwush. It was continued till the death of Husayn on the 10th of Muharram (the first month, then representing the vernal equinox) when it was changed for black. As a rule Moslems do not adopt this symbol of sorrow (called “Hidád”) looking upon the practice as somewhat idolatrous and foreign to Arab manners. In Egypt and especially on the Upper Nile women dye their hands with indigo and stair. their faces black or blacker.
8 The older Roc, of which more in the Tale of Sindbad. Meanwhile the reader curious about the Persian Símurgh (thirty bird) will consult the Dabistan, i., 55,191 and iii., 237, and Richardson’s Diss. p. xlviii. For the Anka (Enka or Unka — long necked bird) see Dab. iii., 249 and for the Humá (bird of Paradise) Richardson lxix. We still lack details concerning the Ben or Bennu (nycticorax) of Egypt which with the Article pi gave rise to the Greek “phœnix.”
9 Probably the Haledj of Forskal (p. xcvi. Flor. Ægypt. Arab.), “lignum tenax, durum, obscuri generic.” The Bres. Edit. has “ákúl”=teak wood, vulg. “Sáj.”
10 The knocker ring is an invention well known to the Romans.
11 Arab. “Sadr”; the place of honour; hence the “Sudder Adawlut” (Supreme Court) in the Anglo–Indian jargon.
12 Arab. “Ahlan wa sahlan wa marhabá,” the words still popularly addressed to a guest.
13 This may mean “liquid black eyes”; but also, as I have noticed, that the lashes were long and thick enough to make the eyelids appear as if Kohl-powder had been applied to the inner rims.
14 A slight parting between the two front incisors, the upper only, is considered a beauty by Arabs; why it as hard to say except for the racial love of variety. “Sugar” (Thug) in the text means, primarily, the opening of the mouth, the gape: hence the front teeth.
15 i.e. makes me taste the bitterness of death, “bursting the gall-bladder” (Marárah) being our “breaking the heart.”
16 Almost needless to say that forbidden doors and rooms form a lieu-commun in Fairie: they are found in the Hindu Katha Sarit Sagara and became familiar to our childhood by “Bluebeard.”
17 Lit. “apply Kohl to my eyes,” even as Jezebel “painted her face,” in Heb. put her eyes in painting (2 Kings ix. 30).
18 Arab. “Al–Barkúk,” whence our older “Apricock.” Classically it is “Burkúk” and Pers. for Arab. “Mishrnish,” and it also denotes a small plum or damson. In Syria the side next the sun” shows a glowing red flush.
19 Arab. “Hazár” (in Persian, a thousand) = a kind of mocking bird.
20 Some Edits. make the doors number a hundred, but the Princesses were forty and these coincidences, which seem to have significance and have none save for Arab symmetromania, are common in Arab stories.
21 Arab. “Májur”: hence possibly our “mazer,” which is popularly derived from Masarn, a maple.
22 A compound scent of ambergris, musk and aloes.
23 The ends of the bridle-reins forming the whip.
24 The flying horse is Pegasus which is a Greek travesty of an Egyptian myth developed in India.
25 The Bres. Edit. wrongly says “the seventh.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that she stood forth before the Commander of the Faithful and began to tell
Verily a strange tale is mine and ’tis this:— Yon two black bitches are my eldest sisters by one mother and father; and these two others, she who beareth upon her the signs of stripes and the third our procuratrix are my sisters by another mother. When my father died, each took her share of the heritage and, after a while my mother also deceased, leaving me and my sisters german three thousand diners; so each daughter received her portion of a thousand diners and I the same, albe the youngest. In due course of time my sisters married with the usual festivities and lived with their husbands, who bought merchandise with their wives monies and set out on their travels together. Thus they threw me off. My brothers in law were absent with their wives five years, during which period they spent all the money they had and, becoming bankrupt, deserted my sisters in foreign parts amid stranger folk. After five years my eldest sister returned to me in beggar’s gear with her clothes in rags and tatters1 and a dirty old mantilla;2 and truly she was in the foulest and sorriest plight. At first sight I did not know my own sister; but presently I recognised her and said “What state is this?” “O our sister,” she replied, “Words cannot undo the done; and the reed of Destiny hath run through what Allah decreed.” Then I sent her to the bath and dressed her in a suit of mine own, and boiled for her a bouillon and brought her some good wine and said to her, “O my sister, thou art the eldest, who still standest to us in the stead of father and mother; and, as for the inheritance which came to me as to you twain, Allah hath blessed it and prospered it to me with increase; and my circumstances are easy, for I have made much money by spinning and cleaning silk; and I and you will share my wealth alike.” I entreated her with all kindliness and she abode with me a whole year, during which our thoughts and fancies were always full of our other sister Shortly after she too came home in yet fouler and sorrier plight than that of my eldest sister; and I dealt by her still more honorably than I had done by the first, and each of them had a share of my substance. After a time they said to me, ‘O our sister, we desire to marry again, for indeed we have not patience to drag on our days without husbands and to lead the lives of widows bewitched;” and I replied, “O eyes of me!3 ye have hitherto seen scanty weal in wedlock, for now-a-days good men and true are become rarities and curiosities; nor do I deem your projects advisable, as ye have already made trial of matrimony and have failed.” But they would not accept my advice and married without my consent: nevertheless I gave them outfit and dowries out of my money; and they fared forth with their mates. In a mighty little time their husbands played them false and, taking whatever they could lay hands upon, levanted and left them in the lurch. Thereupon they came to me ashamed and in abject case and made their excuses to me, saying, Pardon our fault and be not wroth with us;4 for although thou art younger in years yet art thou older in wit; henceforth we will never make mention of marriage; so take us back as thy hand maidens that we may eat our mouthful.” Quoth I, “Welcome to you, O my sisters, there is naught dearer to me than you.” And I took them in and redoubled my kindness to them. We ceased not to live after this loving fashion for a full year, when I resolved to sell my wares abroad and first to fit me a conveyance for Bassorah; so I equipped a large ship, and loaded her with merchandise and valuable goods for traffic, and with provaunt and all needful for a voyage, and said to my sisters, “Will ye abide at home whilst I travel, or would ye prefer to accompany me on the voyage?” “We will travel with thee,” answered they, “for we cannot bear to be parted from thee.” So I divided my monies into two parts, one to accompany me and the other to be left in charge of a trusty person, for, as I said to myself, “Haply some accident may happen to the ship and yet we remain alive; in which case we shall find on our return what may stand us in good stead.” I took my two sisters and we went a voyaging some days and nights; but the master was careless enough to miss his course, and the ship went astray with us and entered a sea other than the sea we sought. For a time we knew naught of this; and the wind blew fair for us ten days, after which the look out man went aloft to see about him and cried, “Good news!” Then he came down rejoicing and said, “I have seen what seemeth to be a city as ’twere a pigeon.” Hereat we rejoiced and, ere an hour of the day had passed, the buildings showed plain in the offing and we asked the Captain, “What is the name of yonder city?” and he answered By Allah I wot not, for I never saw it before and never sailed these seas in my life: but, since our troubles have ended in safety, remains for you only to land there with your merchandise and, if you find selling profitable, sell and make your market of what is there; and if not, we will rest here two days and provision ourselves and fare away.” So we entered the port and the Captain went up town and was absent awhile, after which he returned to us and said, “Arise; go up into the city and marvel at the works of Allah with His creatures and pray to be preserved from His righteous wrath!” So we landed and going up into the city, saw at the gate men hending staves in hand; but when we drew near them, behold, they had been translated5 by the anger of Allah and had become stones. Then we entered the city and found all who therein woned into black stones enstoned: not an inhabited house appeared to the espier, nor was there a blower of fire.6 We were awe struck at the sight and threaded the market streets where we found the goods and gold and silver left lying in their places; and we were glad and said, “Doubtless there is some mystery in all this.” Then we dispersed about the thorough-fares and each busied himself with collecting the wealth and money and rich stuffs, taking scanty heed of friend or comrade. As for myself I went up to the castle which was strongly fortified; and, entering the King’s palace by its gate of red gold, found all the vaiselle of gold and silver, and the King himself seated in the midst of his Chamberlains and Nabobs and Emirs and Wazirs; all clad in raiment which confounded man’s art. I drew nearer and saw him sitting on a throne incrusted and inlaid with pearls and gems; and his robes were of gold-cloth adorned with jewels of every kind, each one flashing like a star. Around him stood fifty Mamelukes, white slaves, clothed in silks of divers sorts holding their drawn swords in their hands; but when I drew near to them lo! all were black stones. My understanding was confounded at the sight, but I walked on and entered the great hall of the Harim,7 whose walls I found hung with tapestries of gold striped silk and spread with silken carpets embroidered with golden cowers. Here I saw the Queen lying at full length arrayed in robes purfled with fresh young8 pearls; on her head was a diadem set with many sorts of gems each fit for a ring9 and around her neck hung collars and necklaces. All her raiment and her ornaments were in natural state but she had been turned into a black stone by Allah’s wrath. Presently I espied an open door for which I made straight and found leading to it a flight of seven steps. So I walked up and came upon a place pargetted with marble and spread and hung with gold-worked carpets and tapestry, amiddlemostof which stood a throne of juniper wood inlaid with pearls and precious stones and set with bosses of emeralds. In the further wall was an alcove whose curtains, bestrung with pearls, were let down and I saw a light issuing therefrom; so I drew near and perceived that the light came from a precious stone as big as an ostrich egg, set at the upper end of the alcove upon a little chryselephantine couch of ivory and gold; and this jewel, blazing like the sun, cast its rays wide and side. The couch also was spread with all manner of silken stuffs amazing the gazer with their richness and beauty. I marvelled much at all this, especially when seeing in that place candles ready lighted; and I said in my mind, “Needs must some one have lighted these candles.” Then I went forth and came to the kitchen and thence to the buttery and the King’s treasure chambers; and continued to explore the palace and to pace from place to place; I forgot myself in my awe and marvel at these matters and I was drowned in thought till the night came on. Then I would have gone forth, but knowing not the gate I lost my way, so I returned to the alcove whither the lighted candles directed me and sat down upon the couch; and wrapping myself in a coverlet, after I had repeated somewhat from the Koran, I would have slept but could not, for restlessness possessed me. When night was at its noon I heard a voice chanting the Koran in sweetest accents; but the tone thereof was weak; so I rose, glad to hear the silence broken, and followed the sound until I reached a closet whose door stood ajar. Then peeping through a chink I considered the place and lo! it was an oratory wherein was a prayer niche10 with two wax candles burning and lamps hanging from the ceiling. In it too was spread a prayer carpet whereupon sat a youth fair to see; and before him on its stand11 was a copy of the Koran, from which he was reading. I marvelled to see him alone alive amongst the people of the city and entering saluted him; whereupon he raised his eyes and returned my salam. Quoth I, “Now by the Truth of what thou readest in Allah’s Holy Book, I conjure thee to answer my question.” He looked upon me with a smile and said, “O handmaid of Allah, first tell me the cause of thy coming hither, and I in turn will tell what hath befallen both me and the people of this city, and what was the reason of my escaping their doom.” So I told him my story whereat he wondered; and I questioned him of the people of the city, when he replied, “Have patience with me for a while, O my sister!” and, reverently closing the Holy Book, he laid it up in a satin bag. Then he seated me by his side; and I looked at him and behold, he was as the moon at its full, fair of face and rare of form, soft sided and slight, of well proportioned height, and cheek smoothly bright and diffusing light; in brief a sweet, a sugar stick,12. even as saith the poet of the like of him in these couplets:—
That night th’ astrologer a scheme of planets drew,
And lo! a graceful shape of youth appeared in view:
Saturn had stained his locks with Saturninest jet,
And spots of nut brown musk on rosy side face blew:13
Mars tinctured either cheek with tinct of martial red;
Sagittal shots from eyelids Sagittarius threw:
Dowered him Mercury with bright mercurial wit;
Bore off the Bear14 what all man’s evil glances grew:
Amazed stood Astrophil to sight the marvel birth
When louted low the Moon at full to buss the Earth.
And of a truth Allah the Most High had robed him in the raiment of perfect grace and had purfled and fringed it with a cheek all beauty and loveliness, even as the poet saith of such an one:—
By his eyelids shedding perfume and his fine slim waist I swear,
By the shooting of his shafts barbed with sorcery passing rare;
By the softness of his sides,15 and glances’ lingering light,
And brow of dazzling day-tide ray and night within his hair;
By his eyebrows which deny to who look upon them rest,
Now bidding now forbidding, ever dealing joy and care;
By the rose that decks his cheek, and the myrtle of its moss,16
By jacinths bedded in his lips and pearl his smile lays bare;
By his graceful bending neck and the curving of his breast,
Whose polished surface beareth those granados, lovely pair;
By his heavy hips that quiver as he passeth in his pride,
Or he resteth with that waist which is slim beyond compare;
By the satin of his skin, by that fine unsullied sprite;
By the beauty that containeth all things bright and debonnair;
By that ever open hand; by the candour of his tongue;
By noble blood and high degree whereof he’s hope and heir;
Musk from him borrows muskiness she loveth to exhale
And all the airs of ambergris through him perfume the air;
The sun, methinks, the broad bright sun, before my love would pale
And sans his splendour would appear a paring of his nail.17
I glanced at him with one glance of eyes which caused me a thousand sighs; and my heart was at once taken captive wise, so I asked him, “O my lord and my love, tell me that whereof I questioned thee;” and he answered, “Hearing is obeying! Know O handmaid of Allah, that this city was the capital of my father who is the King thou sawest on the throne transfigured by Allah’s wrath to a black stone, and the Queen thou foundest in the alcove is my mother. They and all the people of the city were Magians who fire adored in lieu of the Omnipotent Lord18 and were wont to swear by lowe and heat and shade and light and the spheres revolving day and night. My father had ne’er a son till he was blest with me near the last of his days; and he reared me till I grew up and prosperity anticipated me in all things. Now it so fortuned that there was with us an old woman well stricken in years, a Moslemah who, inwardly believing in Allah and His Apostle, conformed outwardly with the religion of my people; and my father placed thorough confidence in her for that he knew her to be trustworthy and virtuous; and he treated her with ever increasing kindness believing her to be of his own belief. So when I was well nigh grown up my father committed me to her charge saying:— Take him and educate him and teach him the rules of our faith; let him have the best in structions and cease not thy fostering care of him. So she took me and taught me the tenets of Al–Islam with the divine ordinances19 of the Wuzu ablution and the five daily prayers and she made me learn the Koran by rote, often repeating:— Serve none save Allah Almighty! When I had mastered this much of knowledge she said to me:— O my son, keep this matter concealed from thy sire and reveal naught to him lest he slay thee. So I hid it from him and I abode on this wise for a term of days when the old woman died, and the people of the city redoubled in their impiety20 and arrogance and the error of their ways. One day, while they were as wont, behold, they heard a loud and terrible sound and a crier crying out with a voice like roaring thunder so every ear could hear, far and near, “O folk of this city, leave ye your fire worshipping and adore Allah the All-compassionate King!” At this, fear and terror fell upon the citizens and they crowded to my father (he being King of the city) and asked him, “What is this awesome voice we have heard, for it hath confounded us with the excess of its terror?” and he answered, “Let not a voice fright you nor shake your steadfast sprite nor turn you back from the faith which is right.” Their hearts inclined to his words and they ceased not to worship the fire and they persisted in rebellion for a full year from the time they heard the first voice; and on the anniversary came a second cry, and a third at the head of the third year, each year once Still they persisted in their malpractises till one day at break of dawn, judgment and the wrath of Heaven descended upon them with all suddenness, and by the visitation of Allah all were metamorphosed into black stones,21 they and their beasts and their cattle; and none was saved save myself who at the time was engaged in my devotions. From that day to this I am in the case thou seest, constant in prayer and fasting and reading and reciting the Koran; but I am indeed grown weary by reason of my loneliness, having none to bear me company.” Then said I to him (for in very sooth he had won my heart and was the lord of my life and soul), “O youth, wilt thou fare with me to Baghdad city and visit the Olema and men learned in the law and doctors of divinity and get thee increase of wisdom and understanding and theology? And know that she who standeth in thy presence will be thy handmaid, albeit she be head of her family and mistress over men and eunuchs and servants and slaves Indeed my life was no life before it fell in with thy youth. I have here a ship laden with merchandise; and in very truth Destiny drove me to this city that I might come to the knowledge of these matters, for it was fated that we should meet.” And I ceased not to persuade him and speak him fair and use every art till he consented. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sharmutah” (plur. Sharámít) from the root Sharmat, to shred, a favourite Egyptian word also applied in vulgar speech to a strumpet, a punk, a piece. It is also the popular term for strips of jerked or boucaned meat hung up in the sun to dry, and classically called “Kadíd.”
2 Arab. “Izár,” the man’s waistcloth opposed to the Ridá or shoulder-cloth, is also the sheet of white calico worn by the poorer Egyptian women out of doors and covering head and hands. See Lane (M. E., chaps. i.). The rich prefer a “Habárah” of black silk, and the poor, when they have nothing else, use a bed-sheet.
3 i.e. “My clears.”
4 Arab. “Lá tawákhizná:” lit. “do not chastise (or blame) us;” the pop. expression for, “excuse (or pardon) us.”
5 Arab. “Maskhút,” mostly applied to change of shape as man enchanted to monkey, and in vulgar parlance applied to a statue (of stone, etc.). The list of metamorphoses in Al–Islam is longer than that known to Ovid. Those who have seen Petra, the Greek town of the Haurán and the Roman ruins in Northern Africa will readily detect the bests upon which these stories are built. I shall return to this subject in The City of Iram (Night cclxxvi.) and The City of Brass (dlxvii.).
6 A picturesque phrase enough to express a deserted site, a spectacle familiar to the Nomades and always abounding in pathos to the citizens.
7 The olden “Harem” (or gynæceum, Pers. Zenanah, Serraglio): Harím is also used by synecdoche for the inmates; especially the wife.
8 The pearl is supposed in the East to lose 1% per ann. of its splendour and value.
9 Arab. “Fass,” properly the bezel of a ring; also a gem cut en cabochon and generally the contenant for the contenu.
10 Arab. “Mihráb” = the arch-headed niche in the Mosque-wall facing Meccah-wards. Here, with his back to the people and fronting the Ka’abah or Square House of Meccah (hence called the “Kiblah” = direction of prayer), stations himself the Imám, artistes or fugleman, lit. “one who stands before others;” and his bows and prostrations give the time to the congregation. I have derived the Mihrab from the niche in which the Egyptian God was shrined: the Jews ignored it, but the Christians preserved it for their statues and altars. Maundrell suggests that the empty niche denotes an invisible God. As the niche (symbol of Venus) and the minaret (symbol of Priapus) date only from the days of the tenth Caliph, Al–Walid (A.H. 86–96=105–115), the Hindus charge the Moslems with having borrowed the two from their favourite idols — The Linga–Yoni or Cunnus phallus (Pilgrimage ii. 140), and plainly call the Mihrab a Bhaga= Cunnus (Dabistan ii. 152). The Guebres further term Meccah “Mah-gah,” locus Lunæ, and Al–Medinah, “Mahdinah,” = Moon of religion. See Dabistan i., 49, etc.
11 Arab “Kursi,” a stool of palm-fronds, etc., X-shaped (see Lane’s illustration, Nights i., 197), before which the reader sits. Good Moslems will not hold the Holy Volume below the waist nor open it except when ceremonially pure. Englishmen in the East should remember this, for to neglect the “Adab al-Kúran” (respect due to Holy Writ) gives great scandal.
12 Mr. Payne (i. 148) quotes the German Zuckerpüppchen.
13 The Persian poets have a thousand conceits in praise of the “mole,” (Khál or Shámah) for which Hafiz offered “Samarkand and Bokhara” (they not being his, as his friends remarked). Another “topic” is the flight of arrows shot by eyelashes.
14 Arab. “Suhá” a star in the Great Bear introduced only to balance “wushát” = spies, enviers, enemies, whose “evil eye” it will ward off.
15 In Arab tales beauty is always “soft-sided,” and a smooth skin is valued in proportion to its rarity.
16 The myrtle is the young hair upon the side face
17 In other copies of these verses the fourth couplet swears “by the scorpions of his brow” i.e. the accroche-cæurs, the beau-catchers, bell-ropes or aggravators,” as the B.P. calls them. In couplet eight the poet alludes to his love’s “Unsur,” or element his nature made up of the four classicals, and in the last couplet he makes the nail paring refer to the moon not the sun. I
18 This is regular formula when speaking of Guebres.
19 Arab. “Faráiz”; the orders expressly given in the Koran which the reader will remember, is Uncreate and Eternal. In India “Farz” is applied to injunctions thrice repeated; and “Wájíb” to those given twice over. Elsewhere scanty difference is made between them.
20 Arab. “Kufr” = rejecting the True Religion, i.e. Al–Islam, such rejection being “Tughyán” or rebellion against the Lord. The “terrible sound” is taken from the legend of the prophet Sálih and the proto-historic tribe of Thámúd which for its impiety was struck dead by an earthquake and a noise from heaven. The latter, according to some commentators, was the voice of the Archangel Gabriel crying “Die all of you” (Koran, chapts. vii., xviii., etc.). We shall hear more of it in the “City of many-columned Iram.” According to some, Salih, a mysterious Badawi prophet, is buried in the Wady al-Shaykh of the so-called Sinaitic Peninsula.
21 Yet they kept the semblance of man, showing that the idea arose from the basaltic statues found in Hauranic ruins. Mohammed in his various marches to Syria must have seen remnants of Greek and Roman settlements; and as has been noticed “Sesostris”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the lady ceased not persuading with soft speech the youth to depart with her till he consented and said “Yes.” She slept that night lying at his feet and hardly knowing where she was for excess of joy. As soon as the next morning dawned (she pursued, addressing the Caliph), I arose and we entered the treasuries and took thence whatever was light in weight and great in worth; then we went down side by side from the castle to the city, where we were met by the Captain and my sisters and slaves who had been seeking for me. When they saw me they rejoiced and asked what had stayed me, and I told them all I had seen and related to them the story of the young Prince and the transformation wherewith the citizens had been justly visited. Hereat all marvelled, but when my two sisters (these two bitches, O Commander of the Faithful!) saw me by the side of my young lover they jaloused me on his account and were wroth and plotted mischief against me. We awaited a fair wind and went on board rejoicing and ready to fly for joy by reason of the goods we had gotten, but my own greatest joyance was in the youth; and we waited awhile till the wind blewfair for us and then we set sail and fared forth. Now as we sat talking, my sisters asked me, “And what wilt thou do with this handsome young man?”; and I answered, “I purpose to make him my husband!” Then I turned to him and said, “O my lord, I have that to propose to thee wherein thou must not cross me; and this it is that, when we reach Baghdad, my native city, I offer thee my life as thy handmaiden in holy matrimony, and thou shalt be to me baron and I will be femme to thee.” He answered, “I hear and I obey!; thou art my lady and my mistress and whatso thou doest I will not gainsay.” Then I turned to my sisters and said, “This is my gain; I content me with this youth and those who have gotten aught of my property let them keep it as their gain with my good will.” “Thou sayest and doest well,” answered the twain, but they imagined mischief against me. We ceased not spooning before a fair wind till we had exchanged the sea of peril for the seas of safety and, in a few days, we made Bassorah city, whose buildings loomed clear before us as evening fell. But after we had retired to rest and were sound alseep, my two sisters arose and took me up, bed and all, and threw me into the sea: they did the same with the young Prince who, as he could not swim, sank and was drowned and Allah enrolled him in the noble army of Martyrs.1 As for me would Heaven I had been drowned with him, but Allah deemed that I should be of the saved; so when I awoke and found myself in the sea and saw the ship making off like a dash of lightning, He threw in my way a piece of timber which I bestrided, and the waves tossed me to and fro till they cast me upon an island coast, a high land and an uninhabited. I landed and walked about the island the rest of the night and, when morning dawned, I saw a rough track barely fit for child of Adam to tread, leading to what proved a shallow ford connecting island and mainland. As soon as the sun had risen I spread my garments to dry in its rays; and ate of the fruits of the island and drank of its waters; then I set out along the foot track and ceased not walking till I reached the mainland. Now when there remained between me and the city but a two hours’ journey behold, a great serpent, the bigness of a date palm, came fleeing towards me in all haste, gliding along now to the right then to the left till she was close upon me, whilst her tongue lolled ground wards a span long and swept the dust as she went. She was pursued by a Dragon2 who was not longer than two lances, and of slender build about the bulk of a spear and, although her terror lent her speed, and she kept wriggling from side to side, he overtook her and seized her by the tail, whereat her tears streamed down and her tongue was thrust out in her agony. I took pity on her and, picking up a stone and calling upon Allah for aid, threw it at the Dragon’s head with such force that he died then and there; and the serpent opening a pair of wings Hew into the lift and disappeared from before my eyes. I sat down marvelling over that adventure, but I was weary and, drowsiness overcoming me, I slept where I was for a while. When I awoke I found a jet black damsel sitting at my feet shampooing them; and by her side stood two black bitches (my sisters, O Commander of the Faithful!). I was ashamed before her3 and, sitting up, asked her, “O my sister, who and what art thou?”; and she answered, “How soon hast thou forgotten me! I am she for whom thou wroughtest a good deed and sowedest the seed of gratitude and slowest her foe; for I am the serpent whom by Allah’s aidance thou didst just now deliver from the Dragon. I am a Jinniyah and he was a Jinn who hated me, and none saved my life from him save thou. As soon as thou freedest me from him I Dew on the wind to the ship whence thy sisters threw thee, and removed all that was therein to thy house. Then I ordered my attendant Marids to sink the ship and I transformed thy two sisters into these black bitches; for I know all that hath passed between them and thee; but as for the youth, of a truth he is drowned.” So saying, she dew up with me and the bitches, and presently set us down on the terrace roof of my house, wherein I found ready stored the whole of what property was in my ship, nor was aught of it missing. “Now (continued the serpent that was), I swear by all engraver on the seal-ring of Solomon4 (with whom be peace!) unless thou deal to each of these bitches three hundred stripes every day I will come and imprison thee forever under the earth.” I answered, “Hearkening and obedience!”; and away she Dew. But before going she again charged me saying, “I again swear by Him who made the two seas flow5 (and this be my second oath) if thou gainsay me I will come and transform thee like thy sisters.” Since then I have never failed, O Commander of the Faithful, to beat them with that number of blows till their blood flows with my tears, I pitying them the while, and well they wot that their being scourged is no fault of mine and they accept my excuses. And this is my tale and my history! The Caliph marvelled at her adventures and then signed to Ja’afar who said to the second lady, the Portress, “And thou, how camest thou by the welts and wheels upon thy body?” So she began the
1 Arab. “Shuhadá”; highly respected by Moslems as by other religionists; although their principal if not only merit seems as a rule to have been intense obstinacy and devotion to one idea for which they were ready to sacrifice even life. The Martyrs-category is extensive including those killed by falling walls; victims to the plague, pleurisy and pregnancy, travellers drowned or otherwise lost when journeying honestly, and chaste lovers who die of “broken hearts” i.e. impaired digestion. Their souls are at once stowed away in the crops of green birds where they remain till Resurrection Day, “eating of the fruits and drinking of the streams of Paradise,” a place however, whose topography is wholly uncertain. Thus the young Prince was rewarded with a manner of anti-Purgatory, a preparatory heaven.
2 Arab. “Su’ubán:” the Badawin give the name to a variety of serpents all held to be venomous; but in tales the word, like “Tannín,” expresses our “dragon” or “cockatrice.”
3 She was ashamed to see the lady doing servile duty by rubbing her feet. This massage, which B. de la Brocquière describes in 1452 as “kneading and pinching,” has already been noticed. The French term is apparently derived from the Arab. “Mas-h.”
4 Alluding to the Most High Name, the hundredth name of God, the Heb. Shem hamphorash, unknown save to a favoured few who by using it perform all manner of miracles.
5 i e. the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean.
Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that I had a father who, after fulfilling his time, deceased and left me great store of wealth. I remained single for a short time and presently married one of the richest of his day. I abode with him a year when he also died, and my share of his property amounted to eighty thousand diners in gold according to the holy law of inheritance.1 Thus I became passing rich an my reputation spread far and wide, for I had made me ten changes of raiment, each worth a thousand diners One day as I was sitting at home, behold, there came in to me an old woman2 with lantern jaws and cheeks sucked in, and eyes rucked up, and eyebrows scant and scald, and head bare and bald; and teeth broken by time and mauled, and back bending and neck nape nodding, and face blotched, and rheum running, and hair like a snake black and white speckled, in complexion a very fright, even as saith the poet of the like of her:—
Ill-omened hag! unshriven be her sins
Nor mercy visit her on dying bed:
Thousand head strongest he mules would her guiles,
Despite their bolting lead with spider thread.
And as saith another:—
A hag to whom th’ unlawful lawfullest
And witchcraft wisdom in her sight are grown:
A mischief making brat, a demon maid,
A whorish woman and a pimping crone.3
When the old woman entered she salamed to me and kissing the ground before me, said, “I have at home an orphan daughter and this night are her wedding and her displaying.4 We be poor folks and strangers in this city knowing none inhabitant and we are broken hearted. So do thou earn for thyself a recompense and a reward in Heaven by being present at her displaying and, when the ladles of this city shall hear that thou art to make act of presence, they also will present themselves; so shalt thou comfort her affliction, for she is sore bruised in spirit and she hath none to look to save Allah the Most High.” Then she wept and kissed my feet reciting these couplets:—
“Thy presence bringeth us a grace
We own before thy winsome face:
And wert thou absent ne’er an one
Could stand in stead or take thy place.”
So pity get hold on me and compassion and I said, “Hearing is consenting and, please Allah, I will do somewhat more for her; nor shall she be shown to her bridegroom save in my raiment and ornaments and jewelry.” At this the old woman rejoiced and bowed her head to my feet and kissed them, saying, “Allah requite thee weal, and comfort thy heart even as thou hast comforted mine! But, O my lady, do not trouble thyself to do me this service at this hour; be thou ready by supper time,5 when I will come and fetch thee.” So saying she kissed my hand and went her ways. I set about stringing my pearls and donning my brocades and making my toilette, Little recking what Fortune had in womb for me, when suddenly the old woman stood before me, simpering and smiling till she showed every tooth stump, and quoth she, “O my mistress, the city madams have arrived and when I apprized them that thou promisedst to be present, they were glad and they are now awaiting thee and looking eagerly for thy coming and for the honour of meeting thee.” So I threw on my mantilla and, making the old crone walk before me and my handmaidens behind me, I fared till we came to a street well watered and swept neat, where the winnowing breeze blew cool and sweet. Here we were stopped by a gate arched over with a dome of marble stone firmly seated on solidest foundation, and leading to a Palace whose walls from earth rose tall and proud, and whose pinnacle was crowned by the clouds,6 and over the doorway were writ these couplets:—
I am the wone where Mirth shall ever smile;
The home of Joyance through my lasting while:
And ’mid my court a fountain jets and flows,
Nor tears nor troubles shall that fount defile:
The merge with royal Nu’uman’s7 bloom is dight,
Myrtle, Narcissus-flower and Chamomile.
Arrived at the gate, before which hung a black curtain, the old woman knocked and it was opened to us; when we entered and found a vestibule spread with carpets and hung around with lamps all alight and wax candles in candelabra adorned with pendants of precious gems and noble ores. We passed on through this passage till we entered a saloon, whose like for grandeur and beauty is not to be found in this world. It was hung and carpeted with silken stuffs, and was illuminated with branches sconces and tapers ranged in double row, an avenue abutting on the upper or noble end of the saloon, where stood a couch of juniper wood encrusted with pearls and gems and surmounted by a baldaquin with mosquito curtains of satin looped up with margaritas. And hardly had we taken note of this when there came forth from the baldaquin a young lady and I looked, O Commander of the Faithful, upon a face and form more perfect than the moon when fullest, with a favour brighter than the dawn gleaming with saffron-hued light, even as the poet sang when he said —
Thou pacest the palace a marvel sight,
A bride for a Kisra’s or Kaisar’s night!
Wantons the rose on thy roseate cheek,
O cheek as the blood of the dragon8 bright!
Slim waisted, languorous, sleepy eyed,
With charms which promise all love
And the tire which attires thy tiara’d brow
Is a night of woe on a morn’s glad light.
The fair young girl came down from the estrade and said to me, “Welcome and well come and good cheer to my sister, the dearly beloved, the illustrious, and a thousand greetings!” Then she recited these couplets:—
“An but the house could know who cometh ‘twould rejoice,
And kiss the very dust whereon thy foot was placed
And with the tongue of circumstance the walls would say,
“Welcome and hail to one with generous gifts engraced!”
Then sat she down and said to me, “O my sister, I have a brother who hath had sight of thee at sundry wedding feasts and festive seasons: he is a youth handsomer than I, and he hath fallen desperately in love with thee, for that bounteous Destiny hath garnered in thee all beauty and perfection; and he hath given silver to this old woman that she might visit thee; and she hath contrived on this wise to foregather us twain. He hath heard that thou art one of the nobles of thy tribe nor is he aught less in his; and, being desirous to ally his lot with thy lot, he hath practiced this device to bring me in company with thee; for he is fain to marry thee after the ordinance of Allah and his Apostle; and in what is lawful and right there is no shame.” When I heard these words and saw myself fairly entrapped in the house, I said, “Hearing is consenting.” She was delighted at this and clapped her hands;9 whereupon a door opened and out of it came a young man blooming in the prime of life, exquisitely dressed, a model of beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace, with gentle winning manners and eyebrows like a bended bow and shaft on cord, and eyes which bewitched all hearts with sorcery lawful in the sight of the Lord; even as saith some rhymer describing the like of him:—
His face as the face of the young moon shines
And Fortune stamps him with pearls for signs.10
And Allah favour him who said:—
Blest be his beauty; blest the Lord’s decree
Who cast and shaped a thing so bright of blee:
All gifts of beauty he conjoins in one;
Lost in his love is all humanity;
For Beauty’s self inscribed on his brow
“I testify there be no Good but he!”11
When I looked at him my heart inclined to him and I loved him; and he sat by my side and talked with me a while, when the young lady again clapped her hands and behold, a side door opened and out of it came the Kazi with his four assessors as witnesses; and they saluted us and, sitting down, drew up and wrote out the marriage contract between me and the youth and retired. Then he turned to me and said, “Be our night blessed,” presently adding, “O my lady, I have a condition to lay on thee.” Quoth I, “O my lord, what is that?” Whereupon he arose and fetching a copy of the Holy Book presented it to me saying “Swear hereon thou wilt never look at any other than myself nor incline thy body or thy heart to him.” I swore readily enough to this and he joyed with exceeding joy and embraced me round the neck while love for him possessed my whole heart. Then they set the table12 before us and we ate and drank till we were satisfied, but I was dying for the coming of the night. And when night did come he led me to the bride chamber and slept with me on the bed and continued to kiss and embrace me till the morning — such a night I had never seen in my dreams. I lived with him a life of happiness and delight for a full month, at the end of which I asked his leave13 to go on foot to the bazar and buy me certain especial stuffs and he gave me permission. So I donned my mantilla and, taking with me the old woman and a slave-girl,14 I went to the khan of the silk-mercers, where I seated myself in the shop front of a young merchant whom the old woman recommended, saying to me, “This youth’s father died when he was a boy and left him great store of wealth: he hath by him a mighty fine15 stock of goods and thou wilt find what thou seekest with him, for none in the bazar hath better stuffs than he. Then she said to him, “Show this lady the most costly stuffs thou hast by thee;” and he replied, “Hearken ing and obedience!” Then she whispered me, “Say a civil word to him!”; but I replied, “I am pledged to address no man save my lord. And as she began to sound his praise I said sharply to her, We want nought of thy sweet speeches; our wish is to buy of him whatsoever we need, and return home.” So he brought me all I sought and I offered him his money, but he refused to take it saying, “Let it be a gift offered to my guest this day!” Then quoth I to the old woman, “If he will not take the money, give him back his stuff.” “By Allah,” cried he, “not a thing will I take from thee: I sell it not for gold or for silver, but I give it all as a gift for a single kiss; a kiss more precious to me than everything the shop containeth.” Asked the old woman, “What will the kiss profit thee?”; and, turning to me, whispered, “O my daughter, thou hearest what this young fellow saith? What harm will it do thee if he get a kiss from thee and thou gettest what thou seekest at that price?” Replied I, “I take refuge with Allah from such action! Knowest thou not that I am bound by an oath?’’16 But she answered, “Now whist! just let him kiss thee and neither speak to him nor lean over him, so shalt thou keep thine oath and thy silver, and no harm whatever shall befal thee.” And she ceased not to persuade me and importune me and make light of the matter till evil entered into my mind and I put my head in the poke17 and, declaring I would ne’er consent, consented. So I veiled my eyes and held up the edge of my mantilla between me and the people passing and he put his mouth to my cheek under the veil. But while kissing me he bit me so hard a bite that it tore the flesh from my cheek,18 and blood flowed fast and faintness came over me. The old woman caught me in her arms and, when I came to myself, I found the shop shut up and her sorrowing over me and saying, “Thank Allah for averting what might have been worse!” Then she said to me, “Come, take heart and let us go home before the matter become public and thou be dishonoured. And when thou art safe inside the house feign sickness and lie down and cover thyself up; and I will bring thee powders and plasters to cure this bite withal, and thy wound will be healed at the latest in three days.” So after a while I arose and I was in extreme distress and terror came full upon me; but I went on little by little till I reached the house when I pleaded illness and lay me down. When it was night my husband came in to me and said, “What hath befallen thee, O my darling, in this excursion of thine?”; and I replied, “I am not well: my head acheth badly.” Then he lighted a candle and drew near me and looked hard at me and asked, “What is that wound I see on thy cheek and in the tenderest part too?” And I answered, When I went out to day with thy leave to buy stuffs, a camel laden with firewood jostled me and one of the pieces tore my veil and wounded my cheek as thou seest; for indeed the ways of this city are strait.” “To morrow,” cried he, “I will go complain to the Governor, so shall he gibbet every fuel seller in Baghdad.” “Allah upon thee,” said I, “burden not thy soul with such sin against any man. The fact is I was riding on an ass and it stumbled, throwing me to the ground; and my cheek lighted upon a stick or a bit of glass and got this wound.” “Then,” said he, “to morrow I will go up to Ja’afar the Barmaki and tell him the story, so shall he kill every donkey boy in Baghdad.” “Wouldst thou destroy all these men because of my wound,” said I, “when this which befel me was by decree of Allah and His destiny?” But he answered, “There is no help for it;” and, springing to his feet, plied me with words and pressed me till I was perplexed and frightened; and I stuttered and stammered and my speech waxed thick and I said, “This is a mere accident by decree of Allah.” Then, O Commander of the Faithful, he guessed my case and said, “Thou hast been false to thine oath.” He at once cried out with a loud cry, whereupon a door opened and in came seven black slaves whom he commanded to drag me from my bed and throw me down in the middle of the room. Furthermore, he ordered one of them to pinion my elbows and squat upon my head; and a second to sit upon my knees and secure my feet; and drawing his sword he gave it to a third and said, “Strike her, O Sa’ad, and cut her in twain and let each one take half and cast it into the Tigris19 that the fish may eat her; for such is the retribution due to those who violate their vows and are unfaithful to their love.” And he redoubled in wrath and recited these couplets:—
“An there be one who shares with me her love,
I’d strangle Love tho’ life by Love were slain
Saying, O Soul, Death were the nobler choice,
For ill is Love when shared ‘twixt partners twain.”
Then he repeated to the slave, “Smite her, O Sa’ad!” And when the slave who was sitting upon me made sure of the command he bent down to me and said, “O my mistress, repeat the profession of Faith and bethink thee if there be any thing thou wouldst have done; for verily this is the last hour of thy life.” “O good slave,” said I, “wait but a little while and get off my head that I may charge thee with my last injunctions.” Then I raised my head and saw the state I was in, how I had fallen from high degree into lowest disgrace; and into death after life (and such life!) and how I had brought my punishment on myself by my own sin; where upon the tears streamed from mine eyes and I wept with exceed ing weeping. But he looked on me with eyes of wrath, and began repeating:—
“Tell her who turneth from our love to work it injury sore,
And taketh her a fine new love the old love tossing o’er:
We cry enough o’ thee ere thou enough of us shalt cry!
What past between us cloth suffice and haply something more.”20
When I heard this, O Commander of the Faithful, I wept and looked at him and began repeating these couplets:—
“To severance you doom my love and all unmoved remain;
My tear sore lids you sleepless make and sleep while I complain:
You make firm friendship reign between mine eyes and insomny;
Yet can my heart forget you not, nor tears can I restrain:
You made me swear with many an oath my troth to hold for aye;
But when you reigned my bosom’s lord you wrought me traitor bane:
I loved you like a silly child who wots not what is Love;
Then spare the learner, let her not be by the master slain!
By Allah’s name I pray you write, when I am dead and gone,
Upon my tomb, This died of Love whose senses Love had ta’en:
Then haply one shall pass that way who fire of Love hath felt,
And treading on a lover’s heart with ruth and woe shall melt.”
When I ended my verses tears came again; but the poetry and the weeping only added fury to his fury, and he recited:—
“’Twas not satiety bade me leave the dearling of my soul,
But that she sinned a mortal sin which clips me in its clip:
She sought to let another share the love between us twain,
But my True Faith of Unity refuseth partnership.”21
When he ceased reciting I wept again and prayed his pardon and humbled myself before him and spoke him softly, saying to myself, “I will work on him with words; so haply he will refrain from slaying me, even though he take all I have.” So I complained of my sufferings and began to repeat these couplets:—
“Now, by thy life and wert thou just my life thou hadst not ta’en,
But who can break the severance law which parteth lovers twain!
Thou loadest me with heavy weight of longing love, when I
Can hardly bear my chemisette for weakness and for pain:
I marvel not to see my life and soul in ruin lain:
I marvel much to see my frame such severance pangs sustain.”
When I ended my verse I wept again; and he looked at me and reviled me in abusive language,22 repeating these couplets:—
“Thou west all taken up with love of other man, not me;
’Twas thine to show me severance face, ‘’twas only mine to see:
I’ll leave thee for that first thou west of me to take thy leave
And patient bear that parting blow thou borest so patiently:
E’en as thou soughtest other love, so other love I’ll seek,
And make the crime of murdering love thine own atrocity.”
When he had ended his verses he again cried out to the slave, “Cut her in half and free us from her, for we have no profit of her. So the slave drew near me, O Commander of the Faithful and I ceased bandying verses and made sure of death and, despairing of life, committed my affairs to Almighty Allah, when behold, the old woman rushed in and threw herself at my husband’s feet and kissed them and wept and said, “O my son, by the rights of my fosterage and by my long service to thee, I conjure thee pardon this young lady, for indeed she hath done nothing deserving such doom. Thou art a very young man and I fear lest her death be laid at thy door; for it is said:— Whoso slayeth shall be slain. As for this wanton (since thou deemest her such) drive her out from thy doors, from thy love and from thy heart.” And she ceased not to weep and importune him till he relented and said, ‘I pardon her, but needs must I set on her my mark which shall show upon her all my life.” Then he bade the slaves drag me along the ground and lay me out at full length, after stripping me of all my clothes;23 and when the slaves had so sat upon me that I could not move, he fetched in a rod of quince tree and came down with it upon my body, and continued beating me on the back and sides till I lost consciousness from excess of pain, and I despaired of life. Then he commanded the slaves to take me away as soon as it was dark, together with the old woman to show them the way and throw me upon the floor of the house wherein I dwelt before my marriage. They did their lord’s bidding and cast me down in my old home and went their ways. I did not revive from my swoon till dawn appeared, when I applied myself to the dressing of my wounds with ointments and other medicaments; and I medicined myself, but my sides and ribs still showed signs of the rod as thou hast seen. I lay in weakly case and confined to my bed for four months before I was able to rise and health returned to me. At the end of that time I went to the house where all this had happened and found it a ruin; the street had been pulled down endlong and rubbish heaps rose where the building erst was; nor could I learn how this had come about. Then I betook myself to this my sister on my father’s side and found her with these two black bitches. I saluted her and told her what had betided me and the whole of my story and she said, “O my sister, who is safe from the despite of Time and secure? Thanks be to Allah who has brought thee off safely;” and she began to say:—
“Such is the World, so bear a patient heart
When riches leave thee and when friends depart!”
Then she told me her own story, and what had happened to her with her two sisters and how matters had ended; so we abode together and the subject of marriage was never on our tongues for all these years. After a while we were joined by our other sister, the procuratrix, who goeth out every morning and buyeth all we require for the day and night; and we continued in such condition till this last night. In the morning our sister went out, as usual, to make her market and then befel us what befel from bringing the Porter into the house and admitting these three Kalandar men., We entreated them kindly and honourably and a quarter of the night had not passed ere three grave and respectable merchants from Mosul joined us and told us their adventures. We sat talking with them but on one condition which they violated, whereupon we treated them as sorted with their breach of promise, and made them repeat the account they had given of themselves. They did our bidding and we forgave their offence; so they departed from us and this morning we were unexpectedly summoned to thy presence. And such is our story! The Caliph wondered at her words and bade the tale be recorded and chronicled and laid up in his muniment-chambers. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. Settled by the Koran.
2 The uglier the old woman the better procuress she is supposed to make. See the Santa Verdiana in Boccaccio v., 10. In Arab. “Ajuz” (old woman) is highly insulting and if addressed to an Egyptian, whatever be her age she will turn fiercely and resent it. The polite term is Shaybah (Pilgrimage hi., 200).
3 The four ages of woman, considered after Demosthenes in her three-fold character, prostitute for pleasure, concubine for service and wife for breeding.
4 Arab. “Jilá” (the Hindostani Julwa) = the displaying of the bride before the bridegroom for the first time, in different dresses, to the number of seven which are often borrowed for the occasion. The happy man must pay a fee called “the tax of face-unveiling” before he can see her features. Amongst Syrian Christians he sometimes tries to lift the veil by a sharp movement of the sword which is parried by the women present, and the blade remains entangled in the cloth. At last he succeeds’ the bride sinks to the ground covering her face with her hands and the robes of her friends: presently she is raised up, her veil is readjusted and her face is left bare.
5 Arab. “Ishá”= the first watch of the night, twilight, supper-time, supper. Moslems have borrowed the four watches of the Romans from 6 (a.m. or p.m.) to 6, and ignore the three original watches of the Jews, even, midnight and cockcrow (Sam. ii. 19, Judges vii. 19, and Exodus xiv. 24).
6 A popular Arab hyperbole.
7 Arab. “Shakáik al-Nu’uman,” lit. the fissures of Nu’uman, the beautiful anemone, which a tyrannical King of Hirah, Nu’uman Al–Munzir, a contemporary of Mohammed, attempted to monopolize.
8 Arab. “Andam”=here the gum called dragon’s blood; in other places the dye-wood known as brazil.
9 I need hardly say that in the East, where bells are unused, clapping the hands summons the servants. In India men cry “Quy hye” (Koi hái?) and in Brazil whistle “Pst!” after the fashion of Spain and Portugal.
10 The moles are here compared with pearls; a simile by no means common or appropriate.
11 A parody on the testification of Allah’s Unity.
12 Arab. “Simát” (prop. “Sumát”); the “dinner-table,” composed of a round wooden stool supporting a large metal tray, the two being called “Sufrah” (or “Simat”): thus “Sufrah házirah!” means dinner is on the table. After the meal they are at once removed.
13 In the text “Dastúr,” the Persian word before noticed; “Izn” would be the proper Arabic equivalent.
14 In the Moslem East a young woman, single or married, is not allowed to appear alone in the streets; and the police have a right to arrest delinquents. As a preventive of intrigues the precaution is excellent. During the Crimean war hundreds of officers, English, French and Italian, became familiar with Constantinople; and not a few flattered themselves on their success with Turkish women. I do not believe that a single bona fide case occurred: the “conquests” were all Greeks, Wallachians, Armenians or Jewesses.
15 Arab. “Azím”: translators do not seem to know that this word in The Nights often bears its Egyptian and slang sense, somewhat equivalent to our “deuced” or “mighty” or “awfully fine.”
16 This is a very serious thing amongst Moslems and scrupulous men often make great sacrifices to avoid taking an oath.
17 We should say “into the noose.”
18 The man had fallen in love with her and determined to mark her so that she might be his.
19 Arab. “Dajlah,” in which we find the Heb. Hid-dekel.
20 Such an execution would be contrary to Moslem law: but people would look leniently upon the peccadillo of beheading or sacking a faithless wife. Moreover the youth was of the blood royal and A quoi bon être prince? as was said by a boy of viceroyal family in Egypt to his tutor who reproached him for unnecessarily shooting down a poor old man.
21 Arab. “Shirk,” partnership, evening or associating gods with God; polytheism: especially levelled at the Hindu triadism, Guebre dualism and Christian Trinitarianism.
22 Arab. “Shatm”— abuse, generally couched in foulest language with especial reference to the privy parts of female relatives.
23 When a woman is bastinadoed in the East they leave her some portion of dress and pour over her sundry buckets of water for a delicate consideration. When the hands are beaten they are passed through holes in the curtain separating the sufferer from mankind, and made fast to a “falakah” or pole.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph commanded this story and those of the sister and the Kalandars to be recorded in the archives and be set in the royal muniment-chambers. Then he asked the eldest lady, the mistress of the house, “Knowest thou the whereabouts of the Ifritah who spelled thy sisters?”; and she answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, she gave me a ringlet of her hair saying:— Whenas thou wouldest see me, burn a couple of these hairs and I will be with thee forthright, even though I were beyond Caucasus-mountain.” Quoth the Caliph, “Bring me hither the hair.” So she brought it and he threw the whole lock upon the fire As soon as the odour of the burning hair dispread itself, the palace shook and trembled, and all present heard a rumbling and rolling of thunder and a noise as of wings and lo! the Jinniyah who had been a serpent stood in the Caliph’s presence. Now she was a Moslemah, so she saluted him and said, “Peace be with thee O Vicar1 of Allah;” whereto he replied, “And with thee also be peace and the mercy of Allah and His blessing.” Then she continued, “Know that this damsel sowed for me the seed of kindness, wherefor I cannot enough requite her, in that she delivered me from death and destroyed mine enemy. Now I had seen how her sisters dealt with her and felt myself bound to avenge her on them. At first I was minded to slay them, but I feared it would be grievous to her, so I transformed them to bitches; but if thou desire their release, O Commander of the Faithful, I will release them to pleasure thee and her for I am of the Moslems.” Quoth the Caliph, “Release them and after we will look into the affair of the beaten lady and consider her case carefully; and if the truth of her story be evidenced I will exact retaliation2 from him who wronged her.” Said the Ifritah, “O Commander of the Faithful, I will forthwith release them and will discover to thee the man who did that deed by this lady and wronged her and took her property, and he is the nearest of all men to thee!” So saying she took a cup of water and muttered a spell over it and uttered words there was no understanding; then she sprinkled some of the water over the faces of the two bitches, saying, “Return to your former human shape!” whereupon they were restored to their natural forms and fell to praising their Creator. Then said the Ifritah, “O Commander of the Faithful, of a truth he who scourged this lady with rods is thy son Al–Amin brother of Al–Maamun;3 for he had heard of her beauty and love liness and he played a lover’s stratagem with her and married her according to the law and committed the crime (such as it is) of scourging her. Yet indeed he is not to be blamed for beating her, for he laid a condition on her and swore her by a solemn oath not to do a certain thing; however, she was false to her vow and he was minded to put her to death, but he feared Almighty Allah and contented himself with scourging her, as thou hast seen, and with sending her back to her own place. Such is the story of the second lady and the Lord knoweth all.” When the Caliph heard these words of the Ifritah, and knew who had beaten the damsel, he marvelled with mighty marvel and said, “Praise be to Allah, the Most High, the Almighty, who hath shown his exceeding mercy towards me, enabling me to deliver these two damsels from sorcery and torture, and vouchsafing to let me know the secret of this lady’s history! And now by Allah, we will do a deed which shall be recorded of us after we are no more.” Then he summoned his son Al–Amin and questioned him of the story of the second lady, the portress; and he told it in the face of truth; whereupon the Caliph bade call into presence the Kazis and their witnesses and the three Kalandars and the first lady with her sisters german who had been ensorcelled; and he married the three to the three Kalandars whom he knew to be princes and sons of Kings and he appointed them chamberlains about his person, assigning to them stipends and allowances and all that they required, and lodging them in his palace at Baghdad. He returned the beaten lady to his son, Al–Amin, renewing the marriage contract between them and gave her great wealth and bade rebuild the house fairer than it was before. As for himself he took to wife the procuratrix and lay with her that night: and next day he set apart for her an apartment in his Serraglio, with handmaidens for her service and a fixed daily allowance And the people marvelled at their Caliph’s generosity and natural beneficence and princely widsom; nor did he forget to send all these histories to be recorded in his annals. When Shahrazad ceased speaking Dunyazad exclaimed, “O my own sister, by Allah in very sooth this is a right pleasant tale and a delectable; never was heard the like of it, but prithee tell me now another story to while away what yet remaineth of the waking hours of this our night.” She replied, “With love and gladness if the King give me leave;” and he said, “Tell thy tale and tell it quickly.” So she began, in these words,
1 Arab. “Khalifah,” Caliph. The word is also used for the successor of a Santon or holy man.
2 Arab. “Sár,” here the Koranic word for carrying out the venerable and undying lex talionis the original basis of all criminal jurisprudence. Its main fault is that justice repeats the offence.
3 Both these sons of Harun became Caliphs, as we shall see in The Nights.
They relate, O King of the age and lord of the time and of these days, that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid summoned his Wazir Ja’afar one night and said to him, ‘I desire to go down into the city and question the common folk concerning the conduct of those charged with its governance; and those of whom they complain we will depose from office and those whom they commend we will promote.” Quoth Ja’afar, “Hearkening and obedience!” So the Caliph went down with Ja’afar and Eunuch Masrur to the town and walked about the streets and markets and, as they were threading a narrow alley, they came upon a very old man with a fishing-net and crate to carry small fish on his head, and in his hand a staff; and, as he walked at a leisurely pace, he repeated these lines:—
“They say me:— Thou shinest a light to mankind
With thy lore as the night which the Moon doth uplight!
I answer, “A truce to your jests and your gibes;
Without luck what is learning? — a poor-devil wight!
If they take me to pawn with my lore in my pouch,
With my volumes to read and my ink-case to write,
For one day’s provision they never could pledge me;
As likely on Doomsday to draw bill at sight:”
How poorly, indeed, doth it fare wi’ the poor,
With his pauper existence and beggarly plight:
In summer he faileth provision to find;
In winter the fire-pot’s his only delight:
The street-dogs with bite and with bark to him rise,
And each losel receives him with bark and with bite:
If he lift up his voice and complain of his wrong,
None pities or heeds him, however he’s right;
And when sorrows and evils like these he must brave
His happiest homestead were down in the grave.”
When the Caliph heard his verses he said to Ja’afar, “See this poor man and note his verses, for surely they point to his necessities.” Then he accosted him and asked, “O Shaykh, what be thine occupation?” and the poor man answered, “O my lord, I am a fisherman with a family to keep and I have been out between mid-day and this time; and not a thing hath Allah made my portion wherewithal to feed my family. I cannot even pawn myself to buy them a supper and I hate and disgust my life and I hanker after death.” Quoth the Caliph, “Say me, wilt thou return with us to Tigris’ bank and cast thy net on my luck, and whatsoever turneth up I will buy of thee for an hundred gold pieces?” The man rejoiced when he heard these words and said, “On my head be it! I will go back with you;” and, returning with them river-wards, made a cast and waited a while; then he hauled in the rope and dragged the net ashore and there appeared in it a chest padlocked and heavy. The Caliph examined it and lifted it finding it weighty; so he gave the fisherman two hundred dinars and sent him about his business; whilst Masrur, aided by the Caliph, carried the chest to the palace and set it down and lighted the candles. Ja’afar and Masrur then broke it open and found therein a basket of palm-leaves corded with red worsted. This they cut open and saw within it a piece of carpet which they lifted out, and under it was a woman’s mantilla folded in four, which they pulled out; and at the bottom of the chest they came upon a young lady, fair as a silver ingot, slain and cut into nineteen pieces. When the Caliph looked upon her he cried, “Alas!” and tears ran down his cheeks and turning to Ja’afar he said, “O dog of Wazirs, 1 shall folk be murdered in our reign and be cast into the river to be a burden and a responsibility for us on the Day of Doom? By Allah, we must avenge this woman on her murderer and he shall be made die the worst of deaths!” And presently he added, “ Now, as surely as we are descended from the Sons of Abbas, 2 if thou bring us not him who slew her, that we do her justice on him, I will hang thee at the gate of my palace, thee and forty of thy kith and kin by thy side.” And the: Caliph was wroth with exceeding rage. Quoth Ja’afar, “Grant me three days’ delay;” and quoth the Caliph, “We grant thee this.” So Ja’afar went out from before him and returned to his own house, full of sorrow and saying to himself, “How shall I find him who murdered this damsel, that I may bring him before the Caliph? If I bring other than the murderer, it will be laid to my charge by the Lord: in very sooth I wot not what to do.” He kept his house three days and on the fourth day the Caliph sent one of the Chamberlains for him and, as he came into the presence, asked him, “Where is the murderer of the damsel?” to which answered Ja’afar, “O Commander of the Faithful, am I inspector of “ murdered folk that I should ken who killed her?” The Caliph was furious at his answer and bade hang him before the palace-gate and commanded that a crier cry through the streets of Baghdad, “Whoso would see the hanging of Ja’afar, the Barmaki, Wazir of the Caliph, with forty of the Barmecides, 3 his cousins and kinsmen, before the palace-gate, let him come and let him look!” The people flocked out from all the quarters of the city to witness the execution of Ja’afar and his kinsmen, not knowing the cause. Then they set up the gallows and made Ja’afar and the others stand underneath in readiness for execution, but whilst every eye was looking for the Caliph’s signal, and the crowd wept for Ja’afar and his cousins of the Barmecides, lo and behold! a young man fair of face and neat of dress and of favour like the moon raining light, with eyes black and bright, and brow flower-white, and cheeks red as rose and young down where the beard grows, and a mole like a grain of ambergris, pushed his way through the people till he stood immediately before the Wazir and said to him, “Safety to thee from this strait, O Prince of the Emirs and Asylum of the poor! I am the man who slew the woman ye found in the chest, so hang me for her and do her justice on me!” When Ja’afar heard the youth’s confession he rejoiced at his own deliverance. but grieved and sorrowed for the fair youth; and whilst they were yet talking behold, another man well stricken in years pressed forwards through the people and thrust his way amid the populace till he came to Ja’afar and the youth, whom he saluted saying, “Ho thou the Wazir and Prince sans-peer! believe not the words of this youth. Of a surety none murdered the damsel but I; take her wreak on me this moment; for, an thou do not thus, I will require it of thee before Almighty Allah.” Then quoth the young man, “O Wazir, this is an old man in his dotage who wotteth not whatso he saith ever, and I am he who murdered her, so do thou avenge her on me!” Quoth the old man, “O my son, thou art young and desirest the joys of the world and I am old and weary and surfeited with the world: I will offer my life as a ransom for thee and for the Wazir and his cousins. No one murdered the damsel but I, so Allah upon thee, make haste to hang me, for no life is left in me now that hers is gone.” The Wazir marvelled much at all this strangeness and, taking the young man and the old man, carried them before the Caliph, where, after kissing the ground seven times between his hands, he said, “O Commander of the Faithful, I bring thee the murderer of the damsel!” “Where is he?” asked the Caliph and Ja’afar answered, “This young man saith, I am the murderer, and this old man giving him the lie saith, I am the murderer, and behold, here are the twain standing before thee.” The Caliph looked at the old man and the young man and asked, “Which of you killed the girl?” The young man replied, “No one slew her save I;” and the old man answered, “Indeed none killed her but myself.” Then said the Caliph to Ja’afar, “Take the twain and hang them both;” but Ja’afar rejoined, “Since one of them was the murderer, to hang the other were mere injustice.”4 “By Him who raised the firmament and dispread the earth like a carpet,” cried the youth, “I am he who slew the damsel;” and he went on to describe the manner of her murder and the basket, the mantilla and the bit of carpet, in fact all that the Caliph had found upon her. So the Caliph was certified that the young man was the murderer; whereat he wondered and asked him, ‘What was the cause of thy wrongfully doing this damsel to die and what made thee confess the murder without the bastinado, and what brought thee here to yield up thy life, and what made thee say Do her wreak upon me?” The youth answered, “Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that this woman was my wife and the mother of my children; also my first cousin and the daughter of my paternal uncle, this old man who is my father’s own brother. When I married her she was a maid 5 and Allah blessed me with three male children by her; she loved me and served me and I saw no evil in her, for I also loved her with fondest love. Now on the first day of this month she fell ill with grievous sickness and I fetched in physicians to her; but recovery came to her little by little. and, when I wished her to go to the Hammam. bath, she said, “There is a something I long for before I go to the bath and I long for it with an exceeding longing.” To hear is to comply,” said I. “And what is it?” Quoth she, “I have a queasy craving for an apple, to smell it and bite a bit of it.” I replied, “Hadst thou a thousand longings I would try to satisfy them!” So I went on the instant into the city and sought for apples but could find none; yet, had they cost a gold piece each, would I have bought them. I was vexed at this and went home and said, “O daughter of my uncle. by Allah I can find none!” She was distressed, being yet very weakly, and her weakness in. creased greatly on her that night and I felt anxious and alarmed on her account. As soon as morning dawned I went out again and made the round of the gardens, one by one, but found no apples anywhere. At last there met me an old gardener. of whom I asked about them and he answered, “O my son, this fruit is a rarity with us and is not now to be found save in the garden of the Commander of the Faithful at Bassorah, where the gardener keepeth it for the Caliph’s eating.” I returned to my house troubled by my ill-success; and my love for my wife and my affection moved me to undertake the journey. So I gat me ready and set out and travelled fifteen days and nights, going and coming, and brought her three apples which I bought from the gardener for three dinars. But when I went in to my wife and set them before her, she took no pleasure in them and let them lie by her side; for her weakness and fever had increased on her and her malady lasted without abating ten days, after which time she began to recover health. So I left my house and be. taking me to my shop sat there buying and selling; and about midday behold, a great ugly black slave, long as a lance and broad as a bench, passed by my shop holding in hand one of the three apples wherewith he was playing. Quoth I, “O my good slave, tell me whence thou tookest that apple, that I may get the like of it?” He laughed and answered, “I got it from my mistress, for I had been absent and on my return I found her lying ill with three apples by her side, and she said to me, ‘My horned wittol of a husband made a journey for them to Bassorah and bought them for three dinars.’ So I ate and drank with her and took this one from her.” 6 When I heard such words from the slave, O Commander of the Faithful, the world grew black before my face, and I arose and locked up my shop and went home beside myself for excess of rage. I looked for the apples and finding only two of the three asked my wife, “O my cousin, where is the third apple?”; and raising her head languidly she answered, “I wet not, O son of my uncle, where ’tis gone!” This convinced me that the slave had spoken the truth, so I took a knife and coming behind her got upon her breast without a word said and cut her throat. Then I hewed off her head and her limbs in pieces and, wrapping her in her mantilla and a rag of carpet, hurriedly sewed up the whole which I set in a chest and, locking it tight, loaded it on my he-mule and threw it into the Tigris with my own hands. So Allah upon thee, O Commander of the Faithful, make haste to hang me, as I fear lest she appeal for vengeance on Resurrection Day. For, when I had thrown her into the river and none knew aught of it, as I went back home I found my eldest son crying and yet he knew naught of what I had done with his mother. I asked him, “What hath made thee weep, my boy?” and he answered, “I took one of the three apples which were by my mammy and went down into the lane to play with my brethren when behold, a big long black slave snatched it from my hand and said. ‘Whence hadst thou this?’ Quoth I, ‘My father travelled far for it, and brought it from Bassorah for my mother who was ill and two other apples for which he paid three ducats.’ He took no heed of my words and I asked for the apple a second and a third time, but he cuffed me and kicked me and went off with it. I was afraid lest my mother should swinge me on account of the apple, so for fear of her I went with my brother outside the city and stayed there till evening closed in upon us; and indeed I am in fear of her; and now by Allah, O my father, say nothing to her of this or it may add to her ailment!” When I heard what-my child said I knew that the slave was he who had foully slandered my wife, the daughter of my uncle, and was certified that I had slain her wrong. fully. So I wept with exceeding weeping and presently this old man, my paternal uncle and her father, came in; and I told him what had happened and he sat down by my side and wept and we ceased not weeping till midnight. We have kept up mourning for her these last five days and we lamented her in the deepest sorrow for that she was unjustly done to die. This came from the gratuitous lying of the slave, the blackamoor, and this was the manner of my killing her; so I conjure thee, by the honour of thine ancestors, make haste to kill me and do her justice upon me, as there is no living for me after her!” The Caliph marvelled at his words and said, “By Allah, the young man is excusable: I will hang none but the accursed slave and I will do a deed which shall comfort the ill-at-ease and suffering, and which shall please the All-glorious King.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 “Dog” and “hog” are still highly popular terms of abuse. The Rabbis will not defile their lips with “pig;” but say “Dabhar akhir”=“another thing.”
2 The “hero eponymus” of the Abbaside dynasty, Abbas having been the brother of Abdullah the father of Mohammed. He is a famous personage in Al-Islam (D’Herbelot).
3 Europe translates the word “Barmecides. It is Persian from bar (up) and makidan (to suck). The vulgar legend is that Ja’afar, the first of the name, appeared before the Caliph Abd al-Malik with a ring poisoned for his own need; and that the Caliph, warned of it by the clapping of two stones which he wore ad hoc, charged the visitor with intention to murder him. He excused himself and in his speech occurred the Persian word “Barmakam,” which may mean “I shall sup it up,” or “I am a Barmak,” that is, a high priest among the Guebres. See D’Herbelot s.v.
4 Arab.“Zulm,” the deadliest of monarch’s sins. One of the sayings of Mohammed, popularly quoted, is, “Kingdom endureth with Kufr or infidelity (i. e. without accepting Al-Islam) but endureth not with Zulm or injustice.” Hence the good Moslem will not complain of the rule of Kafirs or Unbelievers, like the English, so long as they rule him righteously and according to his own law.]
5 All this aggravates his crime: had she been a widow she would not have had upon him “the claims of maidenhead,” the premio della verginita of Boccaccio, x. 10.
6 It is supposed that slaves cannot help telling these fatal lies. Arab story-books are full of ancient and modern instances and some have become “Joe Millers.” Moreover it is held unworthy of a free-born man to take over-notice of these servile villanies; hence the scoundrel in the story escapes unpunished. I have already noticed the predilection of debauched women for these “skunks of the human race;” and the young man in the text evidently suspected that his wife had passed herself this “little caprice.” The excuse which the Caliph would find for him is the pundonor shown in killing one he loved so fondly.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph swore he would hang none but the slave, for the youth was excusable. Then he turned to Ja’afar and said to him, “Bring before me this accursed slave who was the sole cause of this calamity; and, if thou bring him not before me within three days, thou shalt be slain in his stead.” So Ja’afar fared forth weeping and saying. “Two deaths have already beset me, nor shall the crock come of safe from every shock.’ 1 In this matter craft and cunning are of no avail; but He who preserved my life the first time can preserve it a second time. By Allah, I will not leave my house during the three days of life which remain to me and let the Truth (whose perfection be praised!) do e’en as He will.” So he kept his house three days, and on the fourth day he summoned the Kazis and legal witnesses and made his last will and testament, and took leave of his children weeping. Presently in came a messenger from the Caliph and said to him, “The Commander of the Faithful is in the most violent rage that can be, and he sendeth to seek thee and he sweareth that the day shall certainly not pass without thy being hanged unless the slave be forth. coming.” When Ja’afar heard this he wept, and his children and slaves and all who were in the house wept with him. After he had bidden adieu to everybody except his youngest daughter, he proceeded to farewell her; for he loved this wee one, who was a beautiful child, more than all his other children; and he pressed her to his breast and kissed her and wept bitterly at parting from her; when he felt something round inside the bosom of her dress and asked her, “O my little maid, what is in thy bosom pocket?”; “O my father,” she replied, “it is an apple with the name of our Lord the Caliph written upon it. Rayhán our slave brought it to me four days ago and would not let me have it till I gave him two dinars for it.” When Ja’afar heard speak of the slave and the apple, he was glad and put his hand into his child’s pocket 2 and drew out the apple and knew it and rejoiced saying, “O ready Dispeller of trouble “ 3 Then he bade them bring the slave and said to him, “Fie upon thee, Rayhan! whence haddest thou this apple?” “By Allah, O my master,” he replied, “though a lie may get a man once off, yet may truth get him off, and well off, again and again. I did not steal this apple from thy palace nor from the gardens of the Commander of the Faithful. The fact is that five days ago, as I was walking along one of the alleys of this city, I saw some little ones at play and this apple in hand of one of them. So I snatched it from him and beat him and he cried and said, ‘O youth this apple is my mother’s and she is ill. She told my father how she longed for an apple, so he travelled to Bassorah and bought her three apples for three gold pieces, and I took one of them to play withal.’ He wept again, but I paid no heed to what he said and carried it off and brought it here, and my little lady bought it of me for two dinars of gold. And this is the whole story.” When Ja’afar heard his words he marvelled that the murder of the damsel and all this misery should have been caused by his slave; he grieved for the relation of the slave to himself, while rejoicing over his own deliverance, and he repeated these lines:—
“If ill betide thee through thy slave,
Make him forthright thy sacrifice:
A many serviles thou shalt find,
But life comes once and never twice.”
Then he took the slave’s hand and, leading him to the Caliph, related the story from first to last and the Caliph marvelled with extreme astonishment, and laughed till he fell on his back and ordered that the story be recorded and be made public amongst the people. But Ja’afar said, “Marvel not, O Commander of the Faithful, at this adventure, for it is not more wondrous than the History of the Wazir Núr al-Dín Ali of Egypt and his brother Shams al-Dín Mohammed. — Quoth the Caliph, “Out with it; but what can be stranger than this story?” And Ja’afar answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, I will not tell it thee, save on condition that thou pardon my slave;” and the Caliph rejoined, “If it be indeed more wondrous than that of the three apples, I grant thee his blood, and if not I will surely slay thy slave.” So Ja’afar began in these words the
Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that in times of yore the land of Egypt was ruled by a Sultan endowed with justice and generosity, one who loved the pious poor and companied with the Olema and learned men; and he had a Wazir, a wise and an experienced, well versed in affairs and in the art of government. This Minister, who was a very old man, had two sons, as they were two moons; never man saw the like of them for beauty and grace, the elder called Shams al-Din Mohammed and the younger Nur al-Din Ali; but the younger excelled the elder in seemliness and pleasing semblance, so that folk heard his fame in far countries and men flocked to Egypt for the purpose of seeing him. In course of time their father, the Wazir, died and was deeply regretted and mourned by the Sultan, who sent for his two sons and, investing them with dresses of honour, 1 said to them, “Let not your hearts be troubled, for ye shall stand in your father’s stead and be joint Ministers of Egypt.” At this they rejoiced and kissed the ground before him and performed the ceremonial mourning 2 for their father during a full month; after which time they entered upon the Wazirate, and the power passed into their hands as it had been in the hands of their father, each doing duty for a week at a time. They lived under the same roof and their word was one; and whenever the Sultan desired to travel they took it by turns to be in attendance on him. It fortuned one night that the Sultan purposed setting out on a journey next morning, and the elder, whose turn it was to accompany him, was sitting conversing with his brother and said to him, “O my brother, it is my wish that we both marry, I and thou, two sisters; and go in to our wives on one and the same night.” “Do, O my brother, as thou desirest,” the younger replied, “for right is thy recking and surely I will comply with thee in whatso thou sayest.” So they agreed upon this and quoth Shams al-Din, “If Allah decree that we marry two damsels and go in to them on the same night, and they shall conceive on their bridenights and bear children to us on the same day, and by Allah’s will they wife bear thee a son and my wife bear me a daughter, let us wed them either to other, for they will be cousins.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “O my brother, Shams al-Din, what dower 3 wilt thou require from my son for thy daughter?” Quoth Shams al-Din, “I will take three thousand dinars and three pleasure gardens and three farms; and it would not be seemly that the youth make contract for less than this.” When Nur al-Din heard such demand he said, “What manner of dower is this thou wouldst impose upon my son? Wottest thou not that we are brothers and both by Allah’s grace Wazirs and equal in office? It behoveth thee to offer thy daughter to my son without marriage settlement; or if one need be, it should represent a mere nominal value by way of show to the world: for thou knowest that the masculine is worthier than the feminine, and my son is a male and our memory will be preserved by him, not by thy daughter.” “But what,” said Shams al-Din, “is she to have?”; and Nur al-Din continued, “Through her we shall not be remembered among the Emirs of the earth; but I see thou wouldest do with me according to the saying:— An thou wouldst bluff off a buyer, ask him high price and higher; or as did a man who, they say, went to a friend and asked something of him being in necessity and was answered, ‘Bismallah, 4 in the name of Allah, I will do all what thou requirest but come to-morrow!’ Whereupon the other replied in this verse:—
‘When he who is asked a favour saith “To-morrow,”
The wise man wots ‘tis vain to beg or borrow.’”
Quoth Shams al-Din, “Basta! 5 I see thee fail in respect to me by making thy son of more account than my daughter; and ‘tis plain that thine understanding is of the meanest and that thou lackest manners. Thou remindest me of thy partnership in the Wazirate, when I admitted thee to share with me only in pity for thee, and not wishing to mortify thee; and that thou mightest help me as a manner of assistant. But since thou talkest on this wise, by Allah, I will never marry my daughter to thy son; no, not for her weight in gold!” When Nur al-Din heard his brother’s words he waxed wroth and said, “And I too, I will never, never marry my son to thy daughter; no, not to keep from my lips the cup of death.” Shams al-Din replied, “I would not accept him as a husband for her, and he is not worth a paring of her nail. Were I not about to travel I would make an example of thee; however when I return thou shalt see, and I will show thee, how I can assert my dignity and vindicate my honour. But Allah doeth whatso He willeth.”6 When Nur al-Din heard this speech from his brother, he was filled with fury and lost his wits for rage; but he hid what he felt and held his peace; and each of the brothers passed the night in a place far apart, wild with wrath against the other. As soon as morning dawned the Sultan fared forth in state and crossed over from Cairo 7 to Jizah 8 and made for the pyramids, accompanied by the Wazir Shams al-Din, whose turn of duty it was, whilst his brother Nur al-din, who passed the night in sore rage, rose with the light and prayed the dawn-prayer. Then he betook himself to his treasury and, taking a small pair of saddle-bags, filled them with gold; and he called to mind his brother’s threats and the contempt wherewith he had treated him, and he repeated these couplets:—
“Travel! and thou shalt find new friends for old ones left behind;
Toil! for the sweets of human life by toil and moil are found:
The stay-at-home no honour wins nor aught attains but want;
So leave thy place of birth 9 and wander all the world around!
I’ve seen, and very oft I’ve seen, how standing water stinks,
And only flowing sweetens it and trotting makes it sound:
And were the moon for ever full and ne’er to wax or wane,
Man would not strain his watchful eyes to see its gladsome round:
Except the lion leave his lair he ne’er would fell his game,
Except the arrow leave the bow ne’er had it reached its bound:
Gold-dust is dust the while it lies untravelled in the mine,
And aloes-wood mere fuel is upon its native ground:
And gold shall win his highest worth when from his goal ungoal’d;
And aloes sent to foreign parts grows costlier than gold.”
When he ended his verse he bade one of his pages saddle him his Nubian mare-mule with her padded selle. Now she was a dapple-grey, 10 with ears like reed-pens and legs like columns and a back high and strong as a dome builded on pillars; her saddle was of gold-cloth and her stirrups of Indian steel, and her housing of Ispahan velvet; she had trappings which would serve the Chosroes, and she was like a bride adorned for her wedding night. Moreover he bade lay on her back a piece of silk for a seat, and a prayer-carpet under which were his saddle-bags. When this was done he said to his pages and slaves, “I purpose going forth a-pleasuring outside the city on the road to Kalyub-town, 11 and I shall lie three nights abroad; so let none of you follow me, for there is something straiteneth my breast.” Then he mounted the mule in haste; and, taking with him some provaunt for the way, set out from Cairo and faced the open and uncultivated country lying around it. 12 About noontide he entered Bilbays-city, 13 where he dismounted and stayed awhile to rest himself and his mule and ate some of his victual. He bought at Bilbays all he wanted for himself and forage for his mule and then fared on the way of the waste. Towards night-fall he entered a town called Sa’adiyah 14 where he alighted and took out somewhat of his viaticum and ate; then he spread his strip of silk on the sand and set the saddle-bags under his head and slept in the open air; for he was still overcome with anger. When morning dawned he mounted and rode onward till he reached the Holy City, 15 Jerusalem, and thence he made Aleppo, where he dismounted at one of the caravanserais and abode three days to rest himself and the mule and to smell the air. 16 Then, being determined to travel afar and Allah having written safety in his fate, he set out again, wending without wotting whither he was going; and, having fallen in with certain couriers, he stinted not travelling till he had reached Bassorah-city albeit he knew not what the place was. It was dark night when he alighted at the Khan, so he spread out his prayer-carpet and took down the saddle-bags from the back of his mule and gave her with her furniture in charge of the door-keeper that he might walk her about. The man took her and did as he was bid. Now it so happened that the Wazir of Bassorah, a man shot in years, was sitting at the lattice-window of his palace opposite the Khan and he saw the porter walking the mule up and down. He was struck by her trappings of price and thought her a nice beast fit for the riding of Wazirs or even of royalties; and the more he looked the more was he perplexed till at last he said to one of his pages, “Bring hither yon door-keeper,” The page went and returned to the Wazir with the porter who kissed the ground between his hands, and the Minister asked him, “Who is the owner of yonder mule and what manner of man is he?”; and he answered, “O my lord, the owner of this mule is a comely young man of pleasant manners, withal grave and dignified, and doubtless one of the sons of the merchants.” When the Wazir heard the door-keeper’s words he arose forthright; and, mounting his horse, rode to the Khan 17 and went in to Nur al-Din who, seeing the minister making towards him, rose to his feet and advanced to meet him and saluted him. The Wazir welcomed him to Bassorah and dismounting, embraced him and made him sit down by his side and said, “O my son, whence comest thou and what dost thou seek?” “O my lord,” Nur al-Din replied, “I have come from Cairo-city of which my father was whilome Wazir; but he hath been removed to the grace of Allah;” and he informed him of all that had befallen him from beginning to end, adding, “I am resolved never to return home before I have seen all the cities and countries of the world.” When the Wazir heard this, he said to him, “O my son, hearken not to the voice of passion lest it cast thee into the pit; for indeed many regions be waste places and I fear for thee the turns of Time.” Then he let load the saddle-bags and the silk and prayer-carpets on the mule and carried Nur al-Din to his own house, where he lodged him in a pleasant place and entreated him honourably and made much of him, for he inclined to love him with exceeding love. After a while he said to him, “O my son, here am I left a man in years and have no male children, but Allah hath blessed me with a daughter who eventh thee in beauty; and I have rejected all her many suitors, men of rank and substance. But affection for thee hath entered into my heart; say me, then, wilt thou be to her a husband? If thou accept this, I will go up with thee to the Sultan of Bassorah 18 and will tell him that thou art my nephew, the son of my brother, and bring thee to be appointed Wazir in my place that I may keep the house for, by Allah, O my son, I am stricken in years and aweary.” When Nur al-Din heard the Wazir’s words, he bowed his head in modesty and said, “To hear is to obey!” At this the Wazir rejoiced and bade his servants prepare a feast and decorate the great assembly-hall, wherein they were wont to celebrate the marriages of Emirs and Grandees. Then he assembled his friends and the notables of the reign and the merchants of Bassorah and when all stood before him he said to them, “I had a brother who was Wazir in the land of Egypt, and Allah Almighty blessed him with two sons, whilst to me, as well ye wot, He hath given a daughter. My brother charged me to marry my daughter to one of his sons, whereto I assented; and, when my daughter was of age to marry, he sent me one of his sons, the young man now present, to whom I purpose marrying her, drawing up the contract and celebrating the night of unveiling with due ceremony; for he is nearer and dearer to me than a stranger and, after the wedding, if he please he shall abide with me, or if he desire to travel I will forward him and his wife to his father’s home.” Hereat one and all replied, “Right is thy recking;” and they all looked at the bridegroom and were pleased with him. So the Wazir sent for the Kazi and legal witnesses and they wrote out the marriage-contract, after which the slaves perfumed the guests with incense, 19 and served them with sherbet of sugar and sprinkled rose-water on them and all went their ways. Then the Wazir bade his servants take Nur al-Din to the Hammam-baths and sent him a suit of the best of his own especial raiment, and napkins and towelry and bowls and perfume-burners and all else that was required. After the bath, when he came out and donned the dress, he was even as the full moon on the fourteenth night; and he mounted his mule and stayed not till he reached the Wazir’s palace. There he dismounted and went in to the Minister and kissed his hands, and the Wazir bade him welcome. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Khila’ah” prop. What a man strips from his person: gen. An honorary gift. It is something more than the “robe of honour” of our chivalrous romances, as it includes a horse, a sword (often gold-hilted), a black turban (amongst the Abbasides) embroidered with gold, a violet-mantle, a waist-shawl and a gold neck-chain and shoe-buckles.
2 Arab. “Izá,” i.e. the visits of condolence and so forth which are long and terribly wearisome in the Moslem East.
3 Arab. “Mahr,” the money settled by the man before marriage on the woman and without which the contract is not valid. Usually half of it is paid down on the marriage-day and the other half when the husband dies or divorces his wife. But if she take a divorce she forfeits her right to it, and obscene fellows, especially Persians, often compel her to demand divorce by unnatural and preposterous use of her person.
4 Bismillah here means “Thou art welcome to it.”
5 Arab. “Bassak,” half Pers. (bas = enough) and — ak = thou; for thee. “Bas” sounds like our “buss” (to kiss) and there are sundry good old Anglo–Indian jokes of feminine mistakes on the subject.
6 This saving clause makes the threat worse. The scene between the two brothers is written with characteristic Arab humour; and it is true to nature. In England we have heard of a man who separated from his wife because he wished to dine at six and she preferred half-past six.
7 Arab. “Misr.” (vulg. Masr). The word, which comes of a very ancient house, was applied to the present capital about the time of its conquest by the Osmanli Turks A.H. 923 = 1517.
8 The Arab. “Jízah,” = skirt, edge; the modern village is the site of an ancient Egyptian city, as the “Ghizah inscription” proves (Brugsch, History of Egypt, ii. 415)
9 Arab. “Watan” literally meaning “birth-place” but also used for “patria, native country”; thus “Hubb al-Watan” = patriotism. The Turks pronounce it “Vatan,” which the French have turned it into Va-t’en!
10 Arab. “Zarzariyah” = the colour of a stare or starling (Zurzúr).
11 Now a Railway Station on the Alexandria–Cairo line.
12 Even as late as 1852, when I first saw Cairo, the city was girt by waste lands and the climate was excellent. Now cultivation comes up to the house walls; while the Mahmudiyah Canal, the planting the streets with avenues and over-watering have seriously injured it; those who want the air of former Cairo must go to Thebes. Gout, rheumatism and hydrophobia (before unknown) have become common of late years.
13 This is the popular pronunciation: Yakút calls it “Bilbís.”
14 An outlying village on the “Long Desert,” between Cairo and Palestine.
15 Arab. “Al–Kuds” = holiness. There are few cities which in our day have less claim to this title than Jerusalem; and, curious to say, the “Holy Land” shows Jews, Christians and Moslems all in their worst form. The only religion (if it can be called one) which produces men in Syria is the Druse. “Heiligen-landes Jüden” are proverbial and nothing can be meaner than the Christians while the Moslems are famed for treachery.
16 Arab. “Shamm al-hawá.” In vulgar parlance to “smell the air” is to take a walk, especially out of town. There is a peculiar Egyptian festival called “Shamm al-Nasím” (smelling the Zephyr) which begins on Easter–Monday (O.S.), thus corresponding with the Persian Nau-roz, vernal equinox and introducing the fifty days of “Khammasín” or “Mirísi” (hot desert winds). On awakening, the people smell and bathe their temples with vinegar in which an onion has been soaked and break their fast with a “fisikh” or dried “búri” = mullet from Lake Menzalah: the late Hekekiyan Bey had the fish-heads counted in one public garden and found 70,000. The rest of the day is spent out of doors “Gypsying,” and families greatly enjoy themselves on these occasions. For a longer description, see a paper by my excellent friend Yacoub Artin Pasha, in the Bulletin de l’Institut Égyptien, 2nd series, No. 4, Cairo, 1884. I have noticed the Mirísi (south-wester) and other winds in the Land of Midian, i., 23.
17 So in the days of the “Mameluke Beys” in Egypt a man of rank would not cross the street on foot.
18 Arab. Basrah. The city is now in decay and not to flourish again till the advent of the Euphrates Valley R.R., is a modern place, founded in A.H. 15, by the Caliph Omar upon the Aylah, a feeder of the Tigris. Here, according to Al–Haríri, the “whales and the lizards meet,” and, as the tide affects the river,
Its stream shows prodigy, ebbing and flowing.
In its far-famed market-place, Al–Marbad, poems used to be recited; and the city was famous for its mosques and Saint- shrines, fair women and school of Grammar which rivalled that of Kúfah. But already in Al–Hariri’s day (nat. A.H. 446 = A.D. 1030) Baghdad had drawn off much of its population.
19 This fumigation (Bukhúr) is still used. A little incense or perfumed wood is burnt upon an open censor (Mibkharah) of earthenware or metal, and passed round, each guest holding it for a few moments under his beard. In the Somali County, the very home of incense, both sexes fumigate the whole person after carnal intercourse. Lane (Mod. Egypt, chapt. viii) gives an illustration of the Mibkharah).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir stood up to him and welcoming him said, “Arise and go in to thy wife this night, and on the morrow I will carry thee to the Sultan, and pray Allah bless thee with all manner of weal.” So Nur al-Din left him and went into his wife the Wazir’s daughter. Thus far concerning him, but as regards his eldest brother, Shams al-Din, he was absent with the Sultan a long time and when he returned from his journey he found not his brother; and he asked of his servants and slaves who answered, “On the day of thy departure with the Sultan, thy brother mounted his mule fully caparisoned as for state procession saying, ‘I am going towards Kalyub-town and I shall be absent one day or at most two days; for my breast is straitened, and let none of you follow me.’ Then he fared forth and from that time to this we have heard no tidings of him.” Shams al-Din was greatly troubled at the sudden disappearance of his brother and grieved with exceeding grief at the loss and said to himself, “This is only because I chided and upbraided him the night before my departure with the Sultan; haply his feelings were hurt and he fared forth a-travelling; but I must send after him.” Then he went in to the Sultan and acquainted him with what had happened and wrote letters and dispatches, which he sent by running footmen to his deputies in every province. But during the twenty days of his brother’s absence Nur al-Din had travelled far and had reached Bassorah; so after diligent search the messengers failed to come at any news of him and returned. Thereupon Shams al-Din despaired of finding his brother and said, “Indeed I went beyond all bounds in what I said to him with reference to the marriage of our children. Would that I had not done so! This all cometh of my lack of wit and want of caution.” Soon after this he sought in marriage the daughter of a Cairene merchant, 1 and drew up the marriage contract and went in to her. And it so chanced that, on the very same night when Shams al-Din went in to his wife, Nur al-Din also went in to his wife the daughter of the Wazir of Bassorah; this being in accordance with the will of Almighty Allah, that He might deal the decrees of Destiny to His creatures. Furthermore, it was as the two brothers had said; for their two wives became pregnant by them on the same night and both were brought to bed on the same day; the wife of Shams al-Din, Wazir of Egypt, of a daughter, never in Cairo was seen a fairer; and the wife of Nur al-Din of a son, none more beautiful was ever seen in his time, as one of the poets said concerning the like of him:—
That jetty hair, that glossy brow,
My slender-waisted youth, of thine,
Can darkness round creation throw,
Or make it brightly shine.
The dusky mole that faintly shows
Upon his cheek, ah! blame it not:
The tulip-flower never blows
Undarkened by its spot 2
And as another also said:—
His scent was musk and his cheek was rose;
His teeth are pearls and his lips drop wine;
His form is a brand and his hips a hill;
His hair is night and his face moon-shine.
They named the boy Badr al-Din Hasan and his grandfather, the Wazir of Bassorah, rejoiced in him and, on the seventh day after his birth, made entertainments and spread banquets which would befit the birth of Kings’ sons and heirs. Then he took Nur al-Din and went up with him to the Sultan, and his son-in-law, when he came before the presence of the King, kissed the ground between his hands and repeated these verses, for he was ready of speech, firm of sprite and good in heart as he was goodly in form:—
“The world’s best joys long be thy lot, my lord!
And last while darkness and the dawn o’erlap:
O thou who makest, when we greet thy gifts,
The world to dance and Time his palms to clap.” 3
Then the Sultan rose up to honour them, and thanking Nur al-Din for his fine compliment, asked the Wazir, “Who may be this young man?”; and the Minister answered, “This is my brother’s son,” and related his tale from first to last. Quoth the Sultan, “And how comes he to be thy nephew and we have never heard speak of him?” Quoth the Minister, “O our lord the Sultan, I had a brother who was Wazir in the land of Egypt and he died, leaving two sons, whereof the elder hath taken his father’s place and the younger, whom thou seest, came to me. I had sworn I would not marry my daughter to any but to him; so when he came I married him to her. 4 Now he is young and I am old; my hearing is dulled and my judgement is easily fooled; wherefore I would solicit our lord the Sultan 5 to set him in my stead, for he is my brother’s son and my daughter’s husband; and he is fit for the Wazirate, being a man of good counsel and ready contrivance.” The Sultan looked at Nur al-Din and liked him, so he stablished him in office as the Wazir had requested and formally appointed him, presenting him with a splendid dress of honour and a she-mule from his private stud; and assigning to him solde, stipends and supplies. Nur al-Din kissed the Sultan’s hand and went home, he and his father-in-law, joying with exceeding joy and saying, “All this followeth on the heels of the boy Hasan’s birth!” Next day he presented himself before the King and, kissing the ground, began repeating:—
“Grow thy weal and thy welfare day by day:
And thy luck prevail o’er the envier’s spite;
And ne’er cease thy days to be white as day,
And thy foeman’s day to be black as night!”
The Sultan bade him be seated on the Wazir’s seat, so he sat down and applied himself to the business of his office and went into the cases of the lieges and their suits, as is the wont of Ministers; while the Sultan watched him and wondered at his wit and good sense, judgement and insight. Wherefor he loved him and took him into intimacy. When the Divan was dismissed Nur al-Din returned to his house and related what had passed to his father-in-law who rejoiced. And thenceforward Nur al-Din ceased not so to administer the Wazirate that the Sultan would not be parted from him night or day; and increased his stipend and supplies until his means were ample and he became the owner of ships that made trading voyages at his command, as well as of Mamelukes and blackamoor slaves; and he laid out many estates and set up Persian wheels and planted gardens. When his son Hasan was four years of age, the old Wazir deceased and he made for his father-in-law a sumptuous funeral ceremony ere he was laid in the dust. Then he occupied himself with the education of this son and, when the boy waxed strong and came to the age of seven, he brought him a Fakih, a doctor of law and religion, to teach him in his own house and charged him to give him a good education and instruct him in politeness and manners. So the tutor made the boy read and retain all varieties of useful knowledge, after he had spent some years in learning the Koran by heart; 6 and he ceased not to grow in beauty and stature and symmetry, even as saith the poet:—
In his face-sky shines the fullest moon;
In his cheeks’ anemone glows the sun:
He so conquered Beauty that he hath won
All charms of humanity one by one.
The professor brought him up in his father’s palace teaching him reading, writing and cyphering, theology and belles lettres. His grandfather the old Wazir had bequeathed to him the whole of his property when he was but four years of age. Now during all the time of his earliest youth he had never left the house, till on a certain day his father, the Wazir Nur al-Din, clad him in his best clothes and, mounting him on a she-mule of the finest, went up with him to the Sultan. The King gazed at Badr al-Din Hasan and marvelled at his comeliness and loved him. As for the city- folk, when he first passed before them with his father, they marvelled at his exceeding beauty and sat down on the road expecting his return, that they might look their fill on his beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace; even as the poet said in these verses:—
As the sage watched the stars, the semblance clear Of a fair youth on ‘s scroll he saw appear. Those jetty locks Canopus o’er him threw, And tinged his temple curls a musky hue; Mars dyed his ruddy cheek; and from his eyes The Archer-star his glittering arrow flies; His wit from Hermes came; and Soha’s care, (The half-seen star that dimly haunts the Bear) Kept off all evil eyes that threaten and ensnare, The sage stood mazed to see such fortunes meet, And Luna kissed the earth beneath his feet. 7
And they blessed him aloud as he passed and called upon Almighty Allah to bless him. 8 The Sultan entreated the lad with especial favour and said to his father, “O Wazir, thou must needs bring him daily to my presence;” whereupon he replied, “I hear and I obey.” Then the Wazir returned home with his son and ceased not to carry him to court till he reached the age of twenty. At that time the Minister sickened and, sending for Badr al-Din Hasan, said to him, “Know, O my son, that the world of the Present is but a house of mortality, while that of the Future is a house of eternity. I wish, before I die, to bequeath thee certain charges and do thou take heed of what I say and incline thy heart to my words.” Then he gave him last instructions as to the properest way of dealing with his neighbours and the due management of his affairs; after which he called to mind his brother and his home and his native land and wept over his separation from those he had first loved. Then he wiped away his tears and, turning to his son, said to him, “Before I proceed, O my son, to my last charges and injunctions, know that I have a brother, and thou hast an uncle, Shams al-Din hight, the Wazir of Cairo, which whom I parted, leaving him against his will. Now take thee a sheet of paper and write upon it whatso I say to thee.” Badr al-Din took a fair leaf and set about doing his father’s bidding and he wrote thereon a full account of what had happened to his sire first and last; the dates of his arrival at Bassorah and of his foregathering with the Wazir; of his marriage, of his going in to the Minister’s daughter and of the birth of his son; brief, his life of forty years from the date of his dispute with his brother, adding the words, “And this is written at my dictation and may Almighty Allah be with him when I am gone!” Then he folded the paper and sealed it and said, “O Hasan, O my son, keep this paper with all care; for it will enable thee to stablish thine origin and rank and lineage and, if anything contrary befal thee, set out for Cairo and ask for thine uncle and show him this paper and say to him that I died a stranger far from mine own people and full of yearning to see him and them.” So Badr al-Din Hasan took the document and folded it; and, wrapping it up in a piece of waxed cloth of his skull-cap and wound his light turband 9 round it. And he fell to weeping over his father and at parting with him, and he but a boy. Then Nur al-Din lapsed into a swoon, the forerunner of death; but presently recovering himself he said, “O Hasan, O my son, I will now bequeath to thee five last behests. The first behest is, Be over-intimate with none, nor frequent any, nor be familiar with any; so shalt thou be safe from his mischief; 10 for security lieth in seclusion of thought and a certain retirement from the society of thy fellows; and I have heard it said by a poet:—
In this world there is none thou mayst count upon
To befriend thy case in the nick of need:
So live for thyself nursing hope of none
Such counsel I give thee: enow, take heed!
The second behest is, O my son: Deal harshly with none lest fortune with thee deal hardly; for the fortune of this world is one day with thee and another day against thee and all worldly goods are but a loan to be repaid. And I have heard a poet say:-
Take thought nor hast to win the thing thou wilt;
Have ruth on man for ruth thou may’st require:
No hand is there but Allah’s hand is higher;
No tyrant but shall rue worse tyrant’s ire!
The third behest is, Learn to be silent in society and let thine own faults distract thine attention from the faults of other men: for it is said:— In silence dwelleth safety, and thereon I have heard the lines that tell us:—
Reserve’s a jewel, Silence safety is;
Whenas thou speakest many a word withhold;
For an of Silence thou repent thee once,
Of speech thou shalt repent times manifold.
The fourth behest, O my son, is Beware of wine-bibbing, for wine is the head of all frowardness and a fine solvent of human wits. So shun, and again I say, shun mixing strong liquor; for I have heard a poet say 11:—
From wine 12 I turn and whoso wine-cups swill;
Becoming one of those who deem it ill:
Wine driveth man to miss salvation-way, 13
And opes the gateway wide to sins that kill.
The fifth behest, O my son, is Keep thy wealth and it will keep thee; guard thy money and it will guard thee; and waste not thy substance lest haply thou come to want and must fare a-begging from the meanest of mankind. Save thy dirhams and deem them the sovereignest salve for the wounds of the world. And here again I have heard that one of the poets said:—
When fails my wealth no friend will deign befriend:
When wealth abounds all friends their friendship tender:
How many friends lent aid my wealth to spend;
But friends to lack of wealth no friendship render.
On this wise Nur al-Din ceased not to counsel his son Badr al-Din Hasan till his hour came and, sighing one sobbing sigh, his life went forth. Then the voice of mourning and keening rose high in his house and the Sultan and all the grandees grieved for him and buried him; but his son ceased not lamenting his loss for two months, during which he never mounted horse, nor attended the Divan nor presented himself before the Sultan. At last the King, being wroth with him, stablished in his stead one of the Chamberlains and made him Wazir, giving orders to seize and set seals on all Nur al-Din’s houses and goods and domains. So the new Wazir went forth with a mighty posse of Chamberlains and people of the Divan, and watchmen and a host of idlers to do this and to seize Badr al-Din Hasan and carry him before the King, who would deal with him as he deemed fit. Now there was among the crowd of followers a Mameluke of the deceased Wazir who, when he heard this order, urged his horse and rode at full speed to the house of Badr al-Din Hasan; for he cold not endure to see the ruin of his old master’s son. He found him sitting at the gate with head hung down and sorrowing, as was his wont, for the loss of his father; so he dismounted and kissing his hand said to him, “O my lord and son of my lord, haste ere ruin come and lay waste!” When Hasan heard this he trembled and asked, “What may be the matter?; and the man answered, “The Sultan is angered with thee and hath issued a warrant against thee, and evil cometh hard upon my track; so flee with thy life!” At these words Hasan’s heart flamed with the fire of bale, and his rose-red cheek turned pale, and he said to the “Mameluke, “O my brother, is there time for me to go in and get me some worldly gear which may stand me in stead during my strangerhood?” But the slave replied, “O my lord, up at once and save thyself and leave this house, while it is yet time.” And he quoted these lines:—
“Escape with thy life, if oppression betide thee,
And let the house of its builder’s fate!
Country for country thou’lt find, if thou seek it;
Life for life never, early or late.
It is strange men should dwell in the house of abjection,
When the plain of God’s earth is so wide and so great!” 14
At these words of the Mameluke, Badr al-Din covered his head with the skirt of his garment and went forth on foot till he stood outside of the city, where he heard folk saying, “The Sultan hath sent his new Wazir to the house of the old Wazir, now no more, to seal his property and seize his son Badr al-Din Hasan and take him before the presence, that he may put him to death; “ and all cried, “Alas for his beauty and his loveliness!” When he heard this he fled forth at hazard, knowing not whither he was going, and gave not over hurrying onwards till Destiny drove him to his father’s tomb. So he entered the cemetery and, threading his way through the graves, at last he reached the sepulchre where he sat down and let fall from his head the skirt of his long robe 15 which was made of brocade with a gold-embroidered hem whereon were worked these couplets:—
O thou whose forehead, like the radiant East,
Tells of the stars of Heaven and bounteous dews:
Endure thine honour to the latest day,
And Time thy growth of glory ne’er refuse!
While he was sitting by his father’s tomb behold, there came to him a Jew as he were a Shroff, 16 a money-changer, with a pair of saddle-bags containing much gold, who accosted him and kissed his hand, saying, “Whither bound, O my lord; ‘tis late in the day and thou art clad but lightly land I read signs of trouble in thy face?” “I was sleeping within this very hour,” answered Hasan, “when my father appeared to me and chid me for not having visited his tomb; so I awoke trembling and came hither forthright lest the day should go by without my visiting him, which would have been grievous to me.” “O my lord,” rejoined the Jew, 17 “thy father had many merchantmen at sea and, as some of them are now due, it is my wish to buy of thee the cargo of the first ship that cometh into port with this thousand dinars of gold.” “I consent,” quoth Hasan, whereupon the Jew took out a bag of gold and counted out a thousand sequins which he gave to Hasan, the son of the Wazir, saying, “Write me a letter of sale and seal it.” So Hasan took a pen and paper and wrote these words in duplicate, “The writer, Hasan Badr al-Din, son of Wazir Nur al-Din, hath to Isaac the Jew all the cargo of the first of his father’s ships which cometh into port, for a thousand dinars, and he hath received the price in advance.” And after he had taken one copy the Jew put it into his pouch and went away; but Hasan fell a-weeping as he thought of the dignity and prosperity which had erst been his and he began reciting:—
“This house, my lady, since you left is now a home no more
For me, not neighbours, since you left, prove kind and neighbourly:
The friend, whilere I took to heart, alas! no more to me
Is friend; and even Luna’s self displayeth lunacy:
You left and by your going left the world a waste, a wolf,
And lies a gloomy murk upon the face of hill and lea:
O may the raven-bird whose cry our hapless parting croaked
Find ne’er a nesty home and eke shed all his plumery!
At length my patience fails me; and this absence wastes my flesh;
How many a veil by severance rent our eyes are doomed see:
Ah! shall I ever sight again our fair past nights of your;
And shall a single house become a home for me once more?”
Then he wept with exceeding weeping and night came upon him; so he leant his head against his father’s grave and sleep overcame him: Glory to him who sleepeth not! He ceased not slumbering till the moon rose, when his head slipped from off the tomb and he lay on his back, with limbs outstretched, his face shining bright in the moonlight. Now the cemetery was haunted day and night by Jinns who were of the True Believers, and presently came out a Jinniyah who, seeing Hasan asleep, marvelled at his beauty and loveliness and cried, “Glory to God! This youth can be none other than one of the Wuldan of Paradise.18 Then she flew firmament-wards to circle it, as was her custom, and met an Ifrit on the wing who saluted her and she said to him, “Whence comest thou?” “From Cairo,” he replied. “Wilt thou come with me and look upon the beauty of a youth who sleepeth in yonder burial place?” she asked and he answered, “I will.” So they flew till they lighted at the tomb and she showed him the youth and said, “Now diddest thou ever in thy born days see aught like this?” The Ifrit looked upon him and exclaimed, “Praise be to Him that hath no equal! But, O my sister, shall I tell thee what I have seen this day?” Asked she, “What is that?” and he answered, “I have seen the counterpart of this youth in the land of Egypt. She is the daughter of the Wazir Shams al-Din and she is a model of beauty and loveliness, of fairest favour and formous form, and dight with symmetry and perfect grace. When she had reached the age of nineteen, 19 the Sultan of Egypt heard of her and, sending for the Wazir her father, said to him, ‘Hear me, O Wazir: it hath reached mine ear that thou hast a daughter and I wish to demand her of thee in marriage.” The Wazir replied, “O our lord the Sultan, deign accept my excuses and take compassion on my sorrows, for thou knowest that my brother, who was partner with me in the Wazirate, disappeared from amongst us many years ago and we wot not where he is. Now the cause of his departure was that one night, as we were sitting together and talking of wives and children to come, we had words on the matter and he went off in high dudgeon. But I swore that I would marry my daughter to none save to the son of my brother on the day her mother gave her birth, which was nigh upon nineteen years ago. I have lately heard that my brother died at Bassorah, where he married the daughter of the Wazir and that she bare him a son; and I will not marry my daughter but to him in honour of my brother’s memory. I recorded the date of my marriage and the conception of my wife and the birth of my daughter; and from her horoscope I find that her name is conjoined with that of her cousin; 20 and there are damsels in foison for our lord the Sultan.’ The King, hearing his Minister’s answer and refusal, waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and cried, ‘When the like of me asketh a girl in marriage of the like of thee, he conferreth an honour, and thou rejectest me and puttest me off with cold 21 excuses! Now, by the life of my head I will marry her to the meanest of my men in spite of the nose thee! 22 There was in the palace a horse-groom which was a Gobbo with a bunch to his breast and a hunch to his back; and the Sultan sent for him and married him to the daughter of the Wazir, lief or loath, and hath ordered a pompous marriage procession for him and that he go in to his bride this very night. I have now just flown hither from Cairo, where I left the Hunchback at the door of the Hammam-bath amidst the Sultan’s white slaves who were waving lighted flambeaux about him. As for the Minister’s daughter she sitteth among her nurses and tirewomen, weeping and wailing; for they have forbidden her father to come near her. Never have I seen, O my sister, more hideous being than this Hunchback 23 whilest the young lady is the likest of all folk to this young man, albeit even fairer than he,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased her permitted say.
1 The reader of The Nights will remark that the merchant is often a merchant-prince, consorting and mating with the highest dignitaries. Even amongst the Romans, a race of soldiers, statesmen and lawyers, “mercatura” on a large scale was “not to be vituperated.” In Boccacio (x.19) they are netti e delicati uomini. England is perhaps the only country which has made her fortune by trade, and much of it illicit trade, like that in slaves which built Liverpool and Bristol, and which yet disdains or affects to disdain the trader. But the unworthy prejudice is disappearing with the last generation, and men who formerly would have half starved as curates and ensigns, barristers and carabins are now only too glad to become merchants.
2 These lines in the Calc. And Bul. Edits. Have already occurred (Night vii.) but such carelessness is characteristic despite the proverb, “In repetition is no fruition.” I quote Torrens (p. 60) by way of variety. As regards the anemone (here called a tulip) being named “Shakík” = fissure, I would conjecture that it derives from the flower often forming long lines of red like stripes of blood in the landscape. Travellers in Syria always observe this.
3 Such an address to a royalty (Eastern) even in the present day, would be a passport to future favours.
4 In England the man marries and the woman is married: there is no such distinction in Arabia.
5 “Sultan” (and its corruption “Soldan”) etymologically means lord, victorious, ruler, ruling over. In Arabia it is a not uncommon proper name; and as a title it is taken by a host of petty kinglets. The Abbaside Caliphs (as Al-Wásik who has been noticed) formally created these Sultans as their regents. Al-Tá‘i bi’llah (regn. A.H. 363 = 974), invested the famous Sabuktagin with the office; and as Alexander–Sikander was wont to do, fashioned for him two flags, one of silver, after the fashion of nobles, and the other of gold, as Viceroy-designate. Sabuktagin’s son, the famous Mahmúd of the Ghaznavite dynasty in A.H. 393 = 1002, was the first to adopt “Sultan” as an independent title some two hundred years after the death of Harun al-Rashid. In old writers we have the Soldan of Egypt, the Soudan of Persia, and the Sowdan of Babylon; three modifications of one word.
6 i.e. he was a “Háfiz,” one who commits to memory the whole of the Koran. It is a serious task and must be begun early. I learnt by rote the last “Juzw” (or thirtieth part) and found that quite enough. This is the vulgar use of “Hafiz”: technically and theologically it means the third order of Traditionists (the total being five) who know by heart 300,000 traditions of the Prophet with their ascriptions. A curious “spiritualist” book calls itself “Hafed, Prince of Persia,” proving by the very title that the Spirits are equally ignorant of Arabic and Persian.
7 Here again the Cairo Edit. repeats the six couplets already given in Night xvii. I take them from Torrens (p. 163).
8 This naïve admiration of beauty in either sex characterised our chivalrous times. Now it is mostly confined to “professional beauties” or what is conventionally called the “fair sex”; as if there could be any comparison between the beauty of man and the beauty of woman, the Apollo Belvidere with the Venus de Medici.
9 Arab. “Shásh” (in Pers. urine) a light turband generally of muslin.
10 This is a lieu commun of Eastern worldly wisdom. Quite true! Very unadvisable to dive below the surface of one’s acquaintances, but such intimacy is like marriage of which Johnson said, “Without it there is no pleasure in life.”
11 The lines are attributed to the famous Al–Mutanabbi = the claimant to “Prophecy,” of whom I have given a few details in my Pilgrimage iii. 60, 62. He led the life of a true poet, somewhat Chauvinistic withal; and, rather than run away, was killed in A.H. 354 = 965.
12 Arab. “Nabíz” = wine of raisins or dates; any fermented liquor; from a root to “press out” in Syriac, like the word “Talmiz” (or Tilmiz says the Kashf al-Ghurrah) a pupil, student. Date-wine (ferment from the fruit, not the Tádi, or juice of the stem, our “toddy”) is called Fazikh. Hence the Masjid al-Fazikh at Al–Medinah where the Ansar or Auxiliaries of that city were sitting cup in hand when they heard of the revelation forbidding inebriants and poured the liquor upon the ground (Pilgrimage ii. 322).
13 Arab. “Huda” = direction (to the right way), salvation, a word occurring in the Opening Chapter of the Koran. Hence to a Kafir who offers the Salam-salutation many Moslems reply “Allah-yahdík” = Allah direct thee! (i.e. make thee a Moslem), instead of Allah yusallimak = Allah lead thee to salvation. It is the root word of the Mahdi and Mohdi.
14 These lines have already occurred in The First Kalandar’s Story (Night xi.) I quote by way of change and with permission Mr. Payne’s version (i. 93).
15 Arab. “Farajíyah,” a long-sleeved robe worn by the learned (Lane, M.E., chapt. i.).
16 Arab. “Sarráf” (vulg. Sayrafi), whence the Anglo–Indian “Shroff,” a familiar corruption.
17 Arab. “Yahúdi” which is less polite than “Banú Isráil” = Children of Israel. So in Christendom “Israelite” when in favour and “Jew” (with an adjective or a participle) when nothing is wanted of him.
18 Also called “Ghilmán” = the beautiful youths appointed to serve the True Believers in Paradise. The Koran says (chapt. lvi. 9 etc.) “Youths, which shall continue in their bloom for ever, shall go round about to attend them, with goblets, and beakers, and a cup of flowing wine,” etc. Mohammed was an Arab (not a Persian, a born pederast) and he was too fond of women to be charged with love of boys: even Tristam Shandy (vol. vii. chapt. 7; “No, quoth a third; the gentleman has been committing ——”) knew that the two tastes are incompatibles. But this and other passages in the Koran have given the Chevaliers de la Pallie a hint that the use of boys, like that of wine, here forbidden, will be permitted in Paradise.
19 Which, by the by, is the age of an oldish old maid in Egypt. I much doubt puberty being there earlier than in England where our grandmothers married at fourteen. But Orientals are aware that the period of especial feminine devilry is between the first menstruation and twenty when, according to some, every girl is a “possible murderess.” So they wisely marry her and get rid of what is called the “lump of grief,” the “domestic calamity”— a daughter. Amongst them we never hear of the abominable egotism and cruelty of the English mother, who disappoints her daughter’s womanly cravings in order to keep her at home for her own comfort; and an “old maid” in the house, especially a stout, plump old maid, is considered not “respectable.” The ancient virgin is known by being lean and scraggy; and perhaps this diagnosis is correct.
20 This prognostication of destiny by the stars and a host of follies that end in — mancy is an intricate and extensive subject. Those who would study it are referred to chapt. xiv. of the “Qanoon-e-Islam, or the Customs of the Mussulmans of India; etc., etc., by Jaffur Shurreeff and translated by G. A. Herklots, M. D. of Madras.” This excellent work first appeared in 1832 (Allen and Co., London) and thus it showed the way to Lane’s “Modern Egyptians” (1833–35). The name was unfortunate as “Kuzzilbash” (which rhymed to guzzle and hash), and kept the book back till a second edition appeared in 1863 (Madras: J. Higginbotham).
21 Arab. “Bárid,” lit. cold: metaph. vain, foolish, insipid.
22 Not to “spite thee” but “in spite of thee.” The phrase is still used by high and low.
23 Arab. “Ahdab,” the common hunchback; in classical language the Gobbo in the text would be termed “Ak’as” from “Ka’as,” one with protruding back and breast; sometimes used for hollow back and protruding breast.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Jinni narrated to the Jinniyah how the King had caused the wedding contract to be drawn up between the hunchbacked groom and the lovely young lady who was heart-broken for sorrow; and how she was the fairest of created things and even more beautiful than this youth, the Jinniyah cried at him “Thou liest! this youth is handsomer than any one of his day.” The Ifrit gave her the lie again, adding, “By Allah, O my sister, the damsel I speak of is fairer than this; yet none but he deserveth her, for they resemble each other like brother and sister or at least cousins. And, well-away! how she is wasted upon that Hunchback!” Then said she, “O my brother, let us get under him and lift him up and carry him to Cairo, that we may compare him with the damsel of whom thou speakest and so determine whether of the twain is the fairer.” “To hear is to obey!” replied he, “thou speakest to the point; nor is there a righter recking than this of thine, and I myself will carry him.” So he raised him from the ground and flew with him like a bird soaring in upper air, the Ifritah keeping close by his side at equal speed, till he alighted with him in the city of Cairo and set him down on a stone bench and woke him up. He roused himself and finding that he was no longer at his father’s tomb in Bassorah-city he looked right and left and saw that he was in a strange place; and he would have cried out; but the Ifrit gave him a cuff which persuaded him to keep silence. Then he brought him rich raiment and clothed him therein and, giving him a lighted flambeau, said, “Know that I have brought thee hither, meaning to do thee a good turn for the love of Allah: so take this torch and mingle with the people at the Hammam-door and walk on with them without stopping till thou reach the house of the wedding-festival; then go boldly forward and enter the great saloon; and fear none, but take thy stand at the right hand of the Hunchback bridegroom; and, as often as any of the nurses and tirewomen and singing-girls come up to thee, 1 put thy hand into thy pocket which thou wilt find filled with gold. Take it out and throw it to them and spare not; for as often as thou thrustest fingers in pouch thou shalt find it full of coin. Give largesse by handsful and fear nothing, but set thy trust upon Him who created thee, for this is not by thine own strength but by that of Allah Almighty, that His decrees may take effect upon his creatures.” When Badr al-Din Hasan heard these words from the Ifrit he said to himself, “Would Heaven I knew what all this means and what is the cause of such kindness!” However, he mingled with the people and, lighting his flambeau, moved on with the bridal procession till he came to the bath where he found the Hunchback already on horseback. Then he pushed his way in among the crowd, a veritable beauty of a man in the finest apparel, wearing tarbush 2 and turband and a long-sleeved robe purfled with gold; and, as often as the singing-women stopped for the people to give them largesse, he thrust his hand into his pocket and, finding it full of gold, took out a handful and threw it on the tambourine 3 till he had filled it with gold pieces for the music-girls and the tirewomen. The singers were amazed by his bounty and the people marvelled at his beauty and loveliness and the splendour of his dress. He ceased not to do thus till he reached the mansion of the Wazir (who was his uncle), where the Chamberlains drove back the people and forbade them to go forward; but the singing-girls and the tirewomen said, “By Allah we will not enter unless this young man enter with us, for he hath given us length o’ life with his largesse and we will not display the bride unless he be present.” Therewith they carried him into the bridal hall and made him sit down defying the evil glances of the hunchbacked bridegroom. The wives of the Emirs and Wazirs and Chamberlains and Courtiers all stood in double line, each holding a massy cierge ready lighted; all wore thin face-veils and the two rows right and left extended from the bride’s throne 4 to the head of the hall adjoining the chamber whence she was to come forth. When the ladies saw Badr al-Din Hasan and noted his beauty and loveliness and his face that shone like the new moon, their hearts inclined to him and the singing-girls said to all that were present, “Know that this beauty crossed our hands with naught but red gold; so be not chary to do him womanly service and comply with all he says, no matter what he ask. 5 So all the women crowded around Hasan with their torches and gazed upon his loveliness and envied him his beauty; and one and all would gladly have lain on his bosom an hour or rather a year. Their hearts were so troubled that they let fall their veils from before their faces and said, “Happy she who belongeth to this youth or to whom he belongeth!”; and they called down curses on the crooked groom and on him who was the cause of his marriage to the girl-beauty; and as often as they blessed Badr al-Din Hasan they damned the Hunchback, saying, “Verily this youth and none else deserveth our Bride: al, well-away for such a lovely one with this hideous Quasimodo; Allah’s curse light on his head and on the Sultan who commanded the marriage!” Then the singing-girls beat their tabrets and lulliloo’d with joy, announcing the appearing of the bride; and the Wazir’s daughter came in surrounded by her tirewomen who had made her goodly to look upon; for they had perfumed her and incensed her and adorned her hair; and they had robed her in raiment and ornaments befitting the mighty Chosroes Kings. The most notable part of her dress was a loose robe worn over her other garments; it was diapered in red gold with figures of wild beasts, and birds whose eyes and beaks were of gems, and claws of red rubies and green beryl; and her neck was graced with a necklace of Yamani work, worth thousands of gold pieces, whose bezels were great round jewels of sorts, the like of which was never owned by Kaysar or by Tobba King. 6 And the bride was as the full moon when at fullest on fourteenth night; and as she paced into the hall she was like one of the Houris of Heaven — praise be to Him who created her in such splendour of beauty! The ladies encompassed her as the white contains the black of the eye, they clustering like stars whilst she shone amongst them like the moon when it eats up the clouds. Now Badr al-Din Hasan of Bassorah was sitting in full gaze of the folk, when the bride came forward with her graceful swaying and swimming gait, and her hunchbacked groom stood up to meet 7 and receive her: she, however, turned away from the wight and walked forward till she stood before her cousin Hasan, the son of her uncle. Whereat the people laughed. But when the wedding-guests saw her thus attracted towards Badr al-Din they made a mighty clamour and the singing-women shouted their loudest; whereupon he put his hand into his pocket and, pulling out a handful of gold, cast it into their tambourines and the girls rejoiced and said, “Could we win our wish this bride were thine!” At this he smiled and the folk came round him, flambeaux in hand like the eyeball round the pupil, while the Gobbo bridegroom was left sitting alone much like a tail-less baboon; for every time they lighted a candle for him it went out willy-nilly, so he was left in darkness and silence and looking at naught but himself. 8 When Badr al-Din Hasan saw the bridegroom sitting lonesome in the dark, and all the wedding-guests with their flambeaux and wax candles crowding around himself, he was bewildered and marvelled much; but when he looked at his cousin, the daughter of his uncle, he rejoiced and felt an inward delight: he longed to greet her and gazed intently on her face which was radiant with light and brilliancy. Then the tirewomen took off her veil and displayed her in the first bridal dress which was of scarlet satin; and Hasan had a view of her which dazzled his sight and dazed his wits, as she moved to and fro, swaying with graceful gait; 9 and she turned the heads of all the guests, women as well as men, for she was even as saith the surpassing poet:—
A sun on wand in knoll of sand she showed
Clad in her cramoisy-hued chemisette:
Of her lips honey-dew she gave me drink,
And with her rosy cheeks quencht fire she set.
Then they changed that dress and displayed her in a robe of azure; and she reappeared like the full moon when it riseth over the horizon, with her coal-black hair and cheeks delicately fair; and teeth shown in sweet smiling and breasts firm rising and crowning sides of the softest and waist of the roundest. And in this second suit she was as a certain master of high conceits saith of the like of her:—
She came apparrelled in an azure vest,
Ultramarine, as skies are deckt and dight;
I view’d th’ unparrellel’d sight, which show’d my eyes
A moon of Summer on a Winter-night.
Then they changed that suit for another and, veiling her face in the luxuriance of her hair, loosed her lovelocks, so dark, so long that their darkness and length outvied the darkest nights, and she shot through all hearts with the magical shaft of her eye-babes. They displayed her in the third dress and she was as said of her the sayer:—
Veiling her cheeks with hair a-morn she comes,
And I her mischiefs with the cloud compare:
Saying, “Thou veilest morn with night!” “Ah, no!”
Quoth she, “I shroud full moon with darkling air!”
Then they displayed her in the fourth bridal dress and she came forward shining like the rising sun and swaying to and fro with lovesome grace and supple ease like a gazelle-fawn. And she clave all hearts with the arrows of her eyelashes, even as saith one who described a charmer like her:—
The sun of beauty she to sight appears
And, lovely-coy, she mocks all loveliness;
And when he fronts her favour and her smile
A-morn, the Sun of day in clouds must dress.
Then she came forth in the fifth dress, a very light of loveliness like a wand of waving willow or a gazelle of the thirsty wold. Those locks which stung like scorpions along her cheeks were bent, and her neck was bowed in blandishment, and her hips quivered as she went. As saith one of the poets describing her in verse:—
She comes like fullest moon on happy night;
Taper of waist, with shape of magic might:
She hath an eye whose glances quell mankind,
And Ruby on her cheeks reflects his light:
Enveils her hips the blackness of her hair;
Beware of curls that bite with viper-bite!
Her sides are silken-soft, the while the heart
Mere rock behind that surface lurks from sight:
From the fringed curtains of her eyne she shoots
Shafts which at farthest range on mark alight:
When round her neck or waist I throw my arms
Her breasts repel me with their hardened height.
Ah, how her beauty all excels! ah how
That shape transcends the graceful waving bough!
Then they adorned her with the sixth toilette, a dress which was green. And now she shamed her slender straightness the nut-brown spear; her radiant face dimmed the brightest beams of full moon and she outdid the bending branches in gentle movement and flexible grace. Her loveliness exalted the beauties of earth’s four quarters and she broke men’s hearts by the significance of her semblance; for she was even as saith one of the poets in these lines:—
A damsel ‘twas the tirer’s art had decked with snares and sleight.10
And robed in rays as though the sun from her had borrowed light:
She came before us wondrous clad in chemisette of green,
As veiled by its leafy screen pomegranate hides from sight:
And when he said “How callest thou the manner of thy dress?”
She answered us in pleasant way with double meaning dight;
“We call this garment creve-coeur; and rightly is it hight,
For many a heart wi’ this we broke 11 and conquered many a sprite!”
Then they displayed her in the seventh dress, coloured between safflower 12 and saffron, even as one of the poets saith:—
In vest of saffron pale and safflower red
Musk’d, sandal’d ambergris’d, she came to front:
“Rise!” cried her youth, “go forth and show thyself!”
“Sit!” said her hips, “we cannot bear the brunt!”
And when I craved a bout, her Beauty said
“Do, do!” and said her pretty shame, “Don’t, don’t!”
Thus they displayed the bride in all her seven toilettes before Hasan al-Basri, wholly neglecting the Gobbo who sat moping alone; and, when she opened her eyes 13 she said, “O Allah make this man my goodman and deliver me from the evil of this hunchbacked groom.” As soon as they had made an end of this part of the ceremony they dismissed the wedding guests who went forth, women, children and all, and none remained save Hasan and the Hunchback, whilst the tirewomen led the bride into an inner room to change her garb and gear and get her ready for the bridegroom. Thereupon Quasimodo came up to Badr al-Din Hasan and said, “O my lord, thou hast cheered us this night with thy good company and overwhelmed us with thy kindness and courtesy; but now why not get thee up and go?” “Bismallah,” he answered, “In Allah’s name so be it!” and rising, he went forth by the door, where the Ifrit met him and said, “Stay in thy stead, O Badr al-Din, and when the Hunchback goes out to the closet of ease go in without losing time and seat thyself in the alcove; and when the bride comes say to her, “‘Tis I am thy husband, for the King devised this trick only fearing for thee the evil eye, and he whom thou sawest is but a Syce, a groom, one of our stablemen.’ Then walk boldly up to her and unveil her face; for jealousy hath taken us of this matter.” While Hasan was still talking with the Ifrit behold, the groom fared forth from the hall and entering the closet of ease sat down on the stool. Hardly had he done this when the Ifrit came out of the tank, 14 wherein the water was, in semblance of a mouse and squeaked out “Zeek!” Quoth the Hunchback, “What ails thee?”; and the mouse grew and grew till it became a coal-black cat and caterwauled “Meeao! Meeao!”15 Then it grew still more and more till it became a dog and barked out “Owh! Owh!” When the bridegroom saw this he was frightened and exclaimed “Out with thee, O unlucky one!” 16 But the dog grew and swelled till it became an ass-colt that brayed and snorted in his face “Hauk! Hauk!” 17 Whereupon the Hunchback quaked and cried, “Come to my aid, O people of the house!” But behold, the ass-colt grew and became big as a buffalo and walled the way before him and spake with the voice of the sons of Adam, saying, “Woe to thee, O thou Bunch-back, thou stinkard, O thou filthiest of grooms!” Hearing this the groom was seized with a colic and he sat down on the jakes in his clothes with teeth chattering and knocking together. Quoth the Ifrit, “Is the world so strait to thee thou findest none to marry save my lady-love?” But as he was silent the Ifrit continued, “Answer me or I will do thee dwell in the dust!” “By Allah,” replied the Gobbo, “O King of the Buffaloes, this is no fault of mine, for they forced me to wed her; and verily I wot not that she had a lover among the buffaloes; but now I repent, first before Allah and then before thee.” Said the Ifrit to him, “I swear to thee that if thou fare forth from this place, or thou utter a word before sunrise, I assuredly will wring thy neck. When the sun rises wend thy went and never more return to this house.” So saying, the Ifrit took up the Gobbo bridegroom and set him head downwards and feet upwards in the slit of the privy, 18 and said to him, “I will leave thee here but I shall be on the look-out for thee till sunrise; and, if thou stir before then, I will seize thee by the feet and dash out they brains against the wall: so look out for thy life!” Thus far concerning the Hunchback, but as regards Badr al-Din Hasan of Bassorah he left the Gobbo and the Ifrit jangling and wrangling and, going into the house, sat him down in the very middle of the alcove; and behold, in came the bride attended by an old woman who stood at the door and said, “O Father of Uprightness, 19 arise and take what God giveth thee.” Then the old woman went away and the bride, Sitt al-Husn or the Lady of Beauty hight, entered the inner part of the alcove broken-hearted and saying in herself, “By Allah I will never yield my person to him; no, not even were he to take my life!” But as she came to the further end she saw Badr al-Din Hasan and she said, “Dearling! Art thou still sitting here? By Allah I was wishing that thou wert my bridegroom or, at least, that thou and the hunchbacked horse-groom were partners in me.” He replied, “O beautiful lady, how should the Syce have access to thee, and how should he share in thee with me?” “Then,” quoth she, “who is my husband, thou or he?” “Sitt al-Husn,” rejoined Hasan, “we have not done this for mere fun, 20 but only as a device to ward off the evil eye from thee; for when the tirewomen and singers and wedding guests saw they beauty being displayed to me, they feared fascination and they father hired the horse-groom for ten dinars and a porringer of meat to take the evil eye off us; and now he hath received his hire and gone his gait.” When the Lady of Beauty heard these words she smiled and rejoiced and laughed a pleasant laugh. Then she whispered him, “By the Lord thou hast quenched a fire which tortured me and now, by Allah, O my little dark-haired darling, take me to thee and press me to thy bosom!” Then she began singing:—
“By Allah, set thy foot upon my soul;
Since long, long years for this alone I long:
And whisper tale of love in ear of me;
To me ‘tis sweeter than the sweetest song!
No other youth upon my heart shall lie;
So do it often, dear, and do it long.”
Then she stripped off her outer gear and she threw open her chemise from the neck downwards and showed her parts genital and all the rondure of her hips. When Badr al-Din saw the glorious sight his desires were roused, and he arose and doffed her clothes, and wrapping up in his bag-trousers 21 the purse of gold which he had taken from the Jew and which contained the thousand dinars, he laid it under the edge of the bedding. Then he took off his turband and set it upon the settle 22 atop of his other clothes, remaining in his skull-cap and fine shirt of blue silk laced with gold. Whereupon the Lady of Beauty drew him to her and he did likewise. Then he took her to his embrace and set her legs round his waist and point-blanked that cannon 23 placed where it battereth down the bulwark of maidenhead and layeth it waste. And he found her a pearl unpierced and unthridden and a filly by all men save himself unridden; and he abated her virginity and had joyance of her youth in his virility and presently he withdrew sword from sheath; and then returned to the fray right eath; and when the battle and the siege had finished, some fifteen assaults he had furnished and she conceived by him that very night. Then he laid his hand under her head and she did the same and they embraced and fell asleep in each other’s arms, as a certain poet said of such lovers in these couplets:—
Visit thy lover, spurn what envy told;
No envious churl shall smile on love ensoul’d.
Merciful Allah made no fairer sight
Than coupled lovers single couch doth hold;
Breast pressing breast and robed in joys their own,
With pillowed forearms cast in finest mould:
And when heart speaks to heart with tongue of love,
Folk who would part them hammer steel ice-cold:
If a fair friend24 thou find who cleaves to thee,
Live for that friend, that friend in heart enfold.
O ye who blame for love us lover kind
Say, can ye minister to diseasèd mind?
This much concerning Badr al-Hasan and Sitt al-Husn his cousin; but as regards the Ifrit, as soon as he saw the twain asleep, he said to the Ifritah, “Arise, slip thee under the youth and let us carry him back to his place ere dawn overtake us; for the day is nearhand.” Thereupon she came forward and, getting under him as he lay asleep, took him up clad only in his fine blue shirt, leaving the rest of his garments; and ceased not flying (and the Ifrit vying with her in flight) till the dawn advised them that it had come upon them mid-way, and the Muezzin began his call from the Minaret, “Haste ye to salvation! Haste ye to salvation!” 25 Then Allah suffered his angelic host to shoot down the Ifrit with a shooting star, 26 so he was consumed, but the Ifritah escaped and she descended with Badr al-Din at the place where the Ifrit was burnt, and did not carry him back to Bassorah, fearing lest he come to harm. Now by the order of Him who predestineth all things, they alighted at Damascus of Syria, and the Ifritah set down her burden at one of the city-gates and flew away. When day arose and the doors were opened, the folks who came forth saw a handsome youth, with no other raiment but his blue shirt of gold-embroidered silk and skull-cap,27 lying upon the ground drowned in sleep after the hard labour of the night which had not suffered him to take his rest. So the folk looking at him said, “O her luck with whom this one spent the night! but would he had waited to don his garments.” Quoth another, “A sorry lot are the sons of great families! Haply he but now came forth of the tavern on some occasion of his own and his wine flew to his head,28 whereby he hath missed the place he was making for and strayed till he came to the gate of the city; and finding it shut lay him down and to by-by!” As the people were bandying guesses about him suddenly the morning breeze blew upon Badr al-Din and raising his shirt to his middle showed a stomach and navel with something below it, 29 and legs and thighs clear as crystal and smooth as cream. Cried the people, “By Allah he is a pretty fellow!”; and at the cry Badr al-din awoke and found himself lying at a city-gate with a crowd gathered around him. At this he greatly marvelled and asked, “Where am I, O good folk; and what causeth you thus to gather round me, and what have I had to do with you?”; and they answered, “We found thee lying here asleep during the call to dawn-prayer and this is all we know of the matter, but where diddest thou lie last night?” 30 “By Allah, O good people,” replied he, “I lay last night in Cairo.” Said somebody, “Thou hast surely been eating Hashish,” 31 and another, “He is a fool;” and a third, “He is a citrouille;” and a fourth asked him, “Art thou out of thy mind? thou sleepest in Cairo and thou wakest in the morning at the gate of Damascus-city!” 32 Cried he, “By Allah, my good people, one and all, I lie not to you: indeed I lay yesternight in the land of Egypt and yesternoon I was at Bassorah.” Quoth one, “Well! well!”; and quoth another, “Ho! ho!”; and a third, “So! so!”; and a fourth cried, “This youth is mad, is possessed of the Jinni!” So they clapped hands at him and said to one another, “Alas, the pity of it for his youth: by Allah a madman! and madness is no respecter of persons.” Then they said to him, “Collect thy wits and return to thy reason! How couldest thou be in Bassorah yesterday and Cairo yesternight and withal awake in Damascus this morning?” But he persisted, “Indeed I was a bridegroom in Cairo last night.” “Belike thou hast been dreaming,” rejoined they, “and sawest all this in thy sleep.” So Hasan took thought for a while and said to them, “By Allah, this is no dream; nor vision-like doth it seem! I certainly was in Cairo where they displayed the bride before me, in presence of a third person, the Hunchback groom who was sitting hard by. By Allah, O my brother, this be no dream, and if it were a dream, where is the bag of gold I bore with me and where are my turband and my robe, and my trousers?” Then he rose and entered the city, threading its highways and by-ways and bazar-streets; and the people pressed upon him and jeered at him, crying out “Madman! madman!” till he, beside himself with rage, took refuge in a cook’s shop. Now that Cook had been a trifle too clever, that is, a rogue and thief; but Allah had made him repent and turn from his evil ways and open a cook-shop; and all the people of Damascus stood in fear of his boldness and his mischief. So when the crowd saw the youth enter his shop, they dispersed being afraid of him, and went their ways. The Cook looked at Badr al-Din and, noting his beauty and loveliness, fell in love with him forthright and said, “Whence comest thou, O youth? Tell me at once thy tale, for thou art become dearer to me than my soul.” So Hasan recounted to him all that had befallen him from beginning to end (but in repetition there is no fruition) and the Cook said, “O my lord Badr al-Din, doubtless thou knowest that this case is wondrous and this story marvellous; therefore, O my son, hide what hath betided thee, till Allah dispel what ills be thine; and tarry with me here the meanwhile, for I have no child and I will adopt thee.” Badr al-Din replied, “Be it as thou wilt, O my uncle!” Whereupon the Cook went to the bazar and bought him a fine suit of clothes and made him don it; then fared with him to the Kazi, and formally declared that he was his son. So Badr al-Din Hasan became known in Damascus-city as the Cook’s son and he sat with him in the shop to take the silver, and on this wise he sojourned there for a time. Thus far concerning him; but as regards his cousin, the Lady of Beauty, when morning dawned she awoke and missed Badr al-Din Hasan from her side; but she thought that he had gone to the privy and she sat expecting him for an hour or so; when behold, entered her father Shams al-Din Mohammed, Wazir of Egypt. Now he was disconsolate by reason of what had befallen him through the Sultan, who had entreated him harshly and had married his daughter by force to the lowest of his menials and he too a lump of a groom bunch-backed withal, and he said to himself, “I will slay this daughter of mine if of her own free will she have yielded her person to this acursed carle.” So he came to the door of the bride’s private chamber and said, “Ho! Sitt al-Husn.” She answered him, “Here am I! here am I!” 33 O my lord,” and came out unsteady of gait after the pains and pleasures of the night; and she kissed his hand, her face showing redoubled brightness and beauty for having lain in the arms of that gazelle, her cousin. When her father, the Wazir, saw her in such case, he asked her, “O thou accursed, art thou rejoicing because of this horse-groom?”, and Sitt al-Husn smiled sweetly and answered, “By Allah, don’t ridicule me: enough of what passed yesterday when folk laughed at me, and evened me with that groom-fellow who is not worthy to bring my husband’s shoes or slippers; nay who is not worth the paring of my husband’s nails! By the Lord, never in my life have I nighted a night so sweet as yesternight!, so don’t mock by reminding me of the Gobbo.” When her parent heard her words he was filled with fury, and his eyes glared and stared, so that little of them showed save the whites and he cried, “Fie upon thee! What words are these? ‘Twas the hunchbacked horse-groom who passed the night with thee!” “Allah upon thee,” replied the Lady of Beauty, “do not worry me about the Gobbo, Allah damn his father; 34 and leave jesting with me; for this groom was only hired for ten dinars and a porringer of meat and he took his wage and went his way. As for me I entered the bridal-chamber, where I found my true bridegroom sitting, after the singer-women had displayed me to him; the same who had crossed their hands with red gold, till every pauper that was present waxed wealthy; and I passed the night on the breast of my bonny man, a most lively darling, with his black eyes and joined eyebrows.” 35 When her parent heard these words the light before his face became night, and he cried out at her saying, “O thou whore! What is this thou tellest me? Where be thy wits?” “O my father,” she rejoined, “thou breakest my heart; enough for thee that thou hast been so hard upon me! Indeed my husband who took my virginity is but just now gone to the draught-house and I feel that I have conceived by him.” 36 The Wazir rose in much marvel and entered the privy where he found the hunchbacked groom with his head in the hole, and his heels in the air. At this sight he was confounded and said, “This is none other than he, the rascal Hunchback!” So he called to him, “Ho Hunchback!” The Gobbo grunted out, “Taghum! Taghum!” 37 thinking it was the Ifrit spoke to him; so the Wazir shouted at him and said, “Speak out, or I’ll strike off thy pate with this sword.” Then quoth the Hunchback, “By Allah, O Shaykh of the Ifrits, ever since thou settest me in this place, I have not lifted my head; so Allah upon thee, take pity and entreat me kindly!” When the Wazir heard this he asked, “What is this thou sayest? I’m bride’s father and no Ifrit.” “Enough for thee that thou hast well nigh done me die, “ answered Quasimodo; “now go thy ways before he come upon thee who hath served me thus. Could ye not marry me to any save the lady-love of buffaloes and the beloved of Ifrits? Allah curse her and curse him who married me to her and was the cause of this my case,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This is the custom with such gentry, who, when they see a likely man sitting, are allowed by custom to ride astraddle upon his knees with most suggestive movements, till he buys them off. These Ghawázi are mostly Gypsies who pretend to be Moslems; and they have been confused with the Almahs or Moslem dancing-girls proper (Awálim, plur. of Alimah, a learned feminine) by a host of travellers. They call themselves Barámikah or Barmecides only to affect Persian origin. Under native rule they were perpetually being banished from and returning to Cairo (Pilgrimage i., 202). Lane (M.E., chapts. xviii. and xix.) discusses the subject, and would derive Al’mah, often so pronounced, from Heb. Almah, girl, virgin, singing-girl, hence he would translate Al–Alamoth shir (Psalm xlvi.) and Nebalim al-alamoth (I. Chron., xv.20) by a “song for singing-girls” and “harps for singing-girls.” He quotes also St. Jerome as authority that Alma in Punic (Phœnician) signified a virgin, not a common article, I may observe, amongst singing-girls. I shall notice in a future page Burckhardt’s description of the Ghawazi, p.173, “Arabic Proverbs;” etc., etc. Second Edition. London: Quaritch, 1875.
2 I need hardly describe the tarbúsh, a corruption of the Per. “Sar-púsh” (headcover) also called “Fez” from its old home; and “tarbrush” by the travelling Briton. In old days it was a calotte worn under the turban; and it was protected by scalp-perspiration by an “Arakiyah” (Pers. Arak-chin) a white skull-cap. Now it is worn without either and as a head-dress nothing can be worse (Pilgrimage ii. 275).
3 Arab. “Tár.”: the custom still prevails. Lane (M.E., chapt. xviii.) describes and figures this hoop-drum.
4 The couch on which she sits while being displayed. It is her throne, for she is the Queen of the occasion, with all the Majesty of Virginity.
5 This is a solemn “chaff;” such liberties being permitted at weddings and festive occasions.
6 The pre-Islamític dynasty of Al–Yaman in Arabia Felix, a region formerly famed for wealth and luxury. Hence the mention of Yamani work. The caravans from Sana’á, the capital, used to carry patterns of vases to be made in China and bring back the porcelains at the end of the third year: these are the Arabic inscriptions which have puzzled so many collectors. The Tobba, or Successors, were the old Himyarite Kings, a dynastic name like Pharaoh, Kisra (Persia), Negush (Abyssinia), Khakan or Khan (Tartary), etc., who claimed to have extended their conquests to Samarcand and made war on China. Any history of Arabia (as Crichton I., chapt. iv.) may be consulted for their names and annals. I have been told by Arabs that “Tobba” (or Tubba) is still used in the old Himvarland = the Great or the Chief.
7 Lane and Payne (as well as the Bres. Edit.) both render the word “to kiss her,” but this would be clean contrary to Moslem usage.
8 i.e. he was full of rage which he concealed.
9 The Hindus (as the Katha shows) compare this swimming gait with an elephant’s roll.
10 Arab. “Fitnah,” a word almost as troublesome as “Adab.” Primarily, revolt, seduction, mischief: then a beautiful girl (or boy), and lastly a certain aphrodisiac perfume extracted from mimosa-flowers (Pilgrimage i., 118).
11 Lit. burst the “gall-bladder:” In this and in the “liver” allusions I dare not be baldly literal.
12 Arab. “Usfur” the seeds of Carthamus tinctorius = Safflower (Forskal, Flora, etc. lv.). The seeds are crushed for oil and the flowers, which must be gathered by virgins or the colour will fail, are extensively used for dying in Southern Arabia and Eastern Africa.
13 On such occasions Miss Modesty shuts her eye and looks as if about to faint.
14 After either evacuation the Moslem is bound to wash or sand the part; first however he should apply three pebbles, or potsherds or clods of earth. Hence the allusion in the Koran (chapt. ix), “men who love to be purified.” When the Prophet was questioning the men of Kuba, where he founded a mosque (Pilgrimage ii., 215), he asked them about their legal ablutions, especially after evacuation; and they told him that they used three stones before washing. Moslems and Hindus (who prefer water mixed with earth) abhor the unclean and unhealthy use of paper without ablution; and the people of India call European draught-houses, by way of opprobrium, “Kághaz-khánah” = paper closets. Most old Anglo–Indians, however, learn to use water.
15 “Miao” or “Mau” is the generic name of the cat in the Egyptian of the hieroglyphs.
16 Arab. “Ya Mah’úm” addressed to an evil spirit.
17 “Heehaw!” as we should say. The Bresl. Edit. makes the cat cry “Nauh! Nauh!” and the ass-colt “Manu! Manu!” I leave these onomatopœics as they are in Arabic; they are curious, showing the unity in variety of hearing inarticulate sounds. The bird which is called “Whip poor Will” in the U.S. is known to the Brazilians as “Joam corta páo” (John cut wood); so differently do they hear the same notes.
18 It is usually a slab of marble with a long slit in front and a round hole behind. The text speaks of a Kursi (= stool); but this is now unknown to native houses which have not adopted European fashions.
19 This again is chaff as she addresses the Hunchback. The Bul. Edit. has “O Abu Shiháb” (Father of the shooting-star = evil spirit); the Bresl. Edit. “O son of a heap! O son of a Something!” (al-afsh, a vulgarism).
20 As the reader will see, Arab ideas of “fun” and practical jokes are of the largest, putting the Hibernian to utter rout, and comparing favourably with those recorded in Don Quixote.
21 Arab. “Saráwil” a corruption of the Pers. “Sharwál”; popularly called “libás” which, however, may also mean clothing in general and especially outer-clothing. I translate “bag-trousers” and “petticoat-trousers,” the latter being the divided skirt of our future. In the East, where Common Sense, not Fashion, rules dress, men, who have a protuberance to be concealed, wear petticoats and women wear trousers. The feminine article is mostly baggy but sometimes, as in India, collant-tight. A quasi-sacred part of it is the inkle, tape or string, often a most magnificent affair, with tassels of pearl and precious stones; and “laxity in the trouser-string” is equivalent to the loosest conduct. Upon the subject of “libás,” “sarwál” and its variants the curious reader will consult Dr. Dozy’s “Dictionnaire Détaillé des Noms des Vêtements chez les Arabes,” a most valuable work.
22 The turban out of respect is not put upon the ground (Lane, M. E., chapt. i.).
23 Arab. “Madfa” showing the modern date or the modernization of the tale. In Lebid “Madáfi” (plur. of Madfa’) means water-courses or leats.
24 In Arab. the “he” is a “she;” and Habíb (“friend”) is the Attic {Greek Letters}, a euphemism for lover. This will occur throughout The Nights. So the Arabs use a phrase corresponding with the Stoic {Greek Letters}, i.e. is wont, is fain.
25 Part of the Azán, or call to prayer.
26 Arab. “Shiháb,” these mentors being the flying shafts shot at evil spirits who approach too near heaven. The idea doubtless arose from the showers of August and November meteors (The Perseides and Taurides) which suggest a battle raging in upper air. Christendom also has its superstition concerning these and called those of August the “fiery tears of Saint Lawrence,” whose festival was on August 10.
27 Arab. “Tákiyah” = Pers. Arak-chin; the calotte worn under the Fez. It is, I have said, now obsolete and the red woollen cap (mostly made in Europe) is worn over the hair; an unclean practice.
28 Often the effect of cold air after a heated room.
29 i.e. He was not a Eunuch, as the people guessed.
30 In Arab. “this night” for the reason before given.
31 Meaning especially the drink prepared of the young leaves and florets of Cannabis Sativa. The word literally means “day grass” or “herbage.” This intoxicant was much used by magicians to produce ecstasy and thus to “deify themselves and receive the homage of the genii and spirits of nature.”
32 Torrens, being an Irishman, translates “and woke in the morning sleeping at Damascus.”
33 Arab. “Labbayka,” the cry technically called “Talbiyah” and used by those entering Meccah (Pilgrimage iii. 125–232). I shall also translate it by “Adsum.” The full cry is:—
Here am I, O Allah, here am I!
No partner hast Thou, here am I:
Verily the praise and the grace and the kingdom are thine:
No partner hast Thou: here am I!
A single Talbiyah is a “Shart” or positive condition: and its repetition is a Sunnat or Custom of the Prophet. See Night xci.
34 The staple abuse of the vulgar is curing parents and relatives, especially feminine, with specific allusions to their “shame.” And when dames of high degree are angry, Nature, in the East as in the West, sometimes speaks out clearly enough, despite Mistress Chapone and all artificial restrictions.
35 A great beauty in Arabia and the reverse in Denmark, Germany and Slav-land, where it is a sign of being a were-wolf or a vampire. In Greece also it denotes a “Brukolak” or vampire.
36 This is not physiologically true: a bride rarely conceives the first night, and certainly would not know that she had conceived. Moreover the number of courses furnished by the bridegroom would be against conception. It is popularly said that a young couple often undoes in the morning what it has done during the night.
37 Torrens (Notes, xxiv.) quotes “Fleisher” upon the word “Ghamghama” (Diss. Crit. De Glossis Habichtionis), which he compares with “Dumbuma” and Humbuma,” determining them to be onomatopœics, “an incomplete and an obscure murmur of a sentence as it were lingering between the teeth and lips and therefore difficult to be understood.” Of this family is “Taghúm”; not used in modern days. In my Pilgrimage (i.313) I have noticed another, “Khyas’, Khyas’!” occurring in a Hizb al-Bahr (Spell of the Sea). Herklots gives a host of them; and their sole characteristics are harshness and strangeness of sound, uniting consonants which are not joined in Arabic. The old Egyptians and Chaldeans had many such words composed at will for theurgic operations.
Said she, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the hunchbacked groom spake to the bride’s father saying, “Allah curse him who was the cause of this my case!” Then said the Wazir to him, “Up and out of this place!” “Am I mad,” cried the groom, “that I should go with thee without leave of the Ifrit whose last words to me were:—“When the sun rises, arise and go they gait.” So hath the sun risen or no?; for I dare not budge from this place till then.” Asked the Wazir, “Who brought thee hither?”; and he answered “I came here yesternight for a call of nature and to do what none can do for me, when lo! a mouse came out of the water, and squeaked at me and swelled and waxed gross till it was big as a buffalo, and spoke to me words that entered my ears. Then he left me here and went away, Allah curse the bride and him who married me to her!” The Wazir walked up to him and lifted his head out of the cesspool hole; and he fared forth running for dear life and hardly crediting that the sun had risen; and repaired to the Sultan to whom he told all that had befallen him with the Ifrit. But the Wazir returned to the bride’s private chamber, sore troubled in spirit about her, and said to her, “O my daughter, explain this strange matter to me!” Quoth she, “Tis simply this. The bridegroom to whom they displayed me yestereve lay with me all night, and took my virginity and I am with child by him. He is my husband and if thou believe me not, there are his turband, twisted as it was, lying on the settle and his dagger and his trousers beneath the bed with a something, I wot not what, wrapped up in them.” When her father heard this he entered the private chamber and found the turband which had been left there by Badr al-Din Hasan, his brother’s son, and he took it in hand and turned it over, saying, “This is the turband worn by Wazirs, save that it is of Mosul stuff.” 1 So he opened it and, finding what seemed to be an amulet sewn up in the Fez, he unsewed the lining and took it out; then he lifted up the trousers wherein was the purse of the thousand gold pieces and, opening that also, found in it a written paper. This he read and it was the sale-receipt of the Jew in the name of Badr al-Din Hasan, son of Nur al-Din Ali, the Egyptian; and the thousand dinars were also there. No sooner had Shams al-Din read this than he cried out with a loud cry and fell to the ground fainting; and as soon as he revived and understood the gist of the matter he marvelled and said, “There is no God, but the God, who All-might is over all things! Knowest thou, O my daughter, who it was that became the husband of thy virginity?” “No,” answered she, and he said, “Verily he is the son of my brother, thy cousin, and this thousand dinars is thy dowry. Praise be to Allah! and would I wot how this matter came about!” then opened he the amulet which was sewn up and found therein a paper in the handwriting of his deceased brother, Nur al-Din the Egyptian, father of Badr al-Din Hasan; and, when he saw the hand-writing, he kissed it again and again; and he wept and wailed over his dead brother and improvised this lines:—
“I see their traces and with pain I melt,
And on their whilome homes I weep and yearn:
And Him I pray who dealt this parting-blow
Some day he deign vouchsafe a safe return.” 2
When he ceased versifying, he read the scroll and found in it recorded the dates of his brother’s marriage with the daughter of the Wazir of Bassorah, and of his going in to her, and her conception, and the birth of Badr al-Din Hasan and all his brother’s history and doings up to his dying day. So he marvelled much and shook with joy and, comparing the dates with his own marriage and going in to his wife and the birth of their daughter, Sitt al-Husn, he found that they perfectly agreed. So he took the document and, repairing with it to the Sultan, acquainted him with what had passed, from first to last; whereat the King marvelled and commanded the case to be at once recorded. 3 The Wazir abode that day expecting to see his brother’s son but he came not; and he waited a second day, a third day and so on to the seventh day, without any tidings of him. So he said, “By Allah, I will do a deed such as none hath ever done before me!”; and he took reed-pen and ink and drew upon a sheet of paper the plan of the whole house, showing whereabouts was the private chamber with the curtain in such a place and the furniture in such another and so on with all that was in the room. Then he folded up the sketch and, causing all the furniture to be collected, he took Badr al-Din’s garments and the turband and Fez and robe and purse, and carried the whole to his house and locked them up, against the coming of his nephew, Badr al-Din Hasan, the son of his lost brother, with an iron padlock on which he set his seal. As for the Wazir’s daughter, when her tale of months was fulfilled, she bare a son like the full moon, the image of his father in beauty and loveliness and fair proportions and perfect grace. They cut his navel-string 4 and Kohl’d his eyelids to strengthen his eyes, and gave him over to the nurses and nursery governesses, 5 naming him Ajib, the Wonderful. His day was as a month and his month was as a year; 6 and, when seven years had passed over him, his grandfather sent him to school, enjoining the master to teach him Koran-reading, and to educate him well. he remained at the school four years, till he began to bully his schoolfellows and abuse them and bash them and thrash them and say, “Who among you is like me? I am the son of Wazir of Egypt!” At last the boys came in a body to the Monitor 7 of what hard usage they were wont to have from Ajib, and he said to them, “I will tell you somewhat you may do to him so that he shall leave off coming to the school, and it is this. When he enters to-morrow, sit ye down about him and say some one of you to some other, ‘By Allah none shall play with us at this game except he tell us the names of his mamma and his papa; for he who knows not the names of his mother and his father is a bastard, a son of adultery, 8 and he shall not play with us.’” When morning dawned the boys came to school, Ajib being one of them, and all flocked around him saying, “We will play a game wherein none can join save he can tell the name of his mamma and his papa.” And they all cried, “By Allah, good!” Then quoth one of them, “My name is Majid and my mammy’s name is Alawiyah and my daddy’s Izz al-Din.” Another spoke in like guise and yet a third, till Ajid’s turn came, and he said, “my name is Ajib, and my mother’s is Sitt al-Husn, and my father’s Shams al-Din, the Wazir of Cairo.” “By Allah,” cried they, “the Wazir is not thy true father.” Ajib answered, “The Wazir is my father in very deed.” Then the boys all laughed and clapped their hands at him, saying “He does not know who is his papa: get out from among us, for none shall play with us except he know his father’s name.” Thereupon they dispersed from around him and laughed him to scorn; so his breast was straitened and he well nigh choked with tears and hurt feelings. Then said the Monitor to him, “We know that the Wazir is thy grandfather, the father of thy mother, Sitt al-Husn, and not thy father. As for thy father, neither dost thou know him nor yet do we; for the Sultan married thy mother to the hunchbacked horse-groom; but the Jinni came and slept with her and thou hast no known father. Leave, then, comparing thyself too advantageously with the little ones of the school, till thou know that thou hast a lawful father; for until then thou wilt pass for a child of adultery amongst them. Seest thou that not even a huckster’s son knoweth his own sire? Thy grandfather is the Wazir of Egypt; but as for thy father we wot him not and we way indeed that thou hast none. So return to thy sound senses!” When Ajib heard these insulting words from the Monitor and the school boys and understood the reproach they put upon him, he went out at once and ran to his mother, Sitt al-Husn, to complain; but he was crying so bitterly that his tears prevented his speech for a while. When she heard his sobs and saw his tears her heart burned as though with fire for him, and she said, “O my son, why dost thou weep? Allah keep the tears from thine eyes! Tell me what hath betided thee?” So he told her all that he heard from the boys and from the Monitor and ended with asking, “And who, O my mother, is my father?” She answered, “Thy father is the Wazir of Egypt;” but he said, “Do not lie to me. The Wazir is thy father, not mine! who then is my father? Except thou tell me the very truth I will kill myself with this hanger.” 9 When his mother heard him speak of his father she wept, remembering her cousin and her bridal night with him and all that occurred thereon and then, and she repeated these couplets:—
“Love in they heart they lit and went their ways,
And all I love to furthest lands withdrew;
And when they left me sufferance also left,
And when we parted Patience bade adieu:
They fled and flying with my joys they fled,
In very consistency my spirit flew:
They made my eyelids flow with severance tears
And to the parting-pang these drops are due:
And when I long to see reunion-day,
My groans prolonging sore for ruth I sue:
Then in my heart of hearts their shapes I trace,
And love and longing care and cark renew:
O ye, whose names cling round me like a cloak,
Whose love yet closer than a shirt I drew,
Beloved ones! how long this hard despite?
How long this severance and this coy shy flight?”
Then she wailed and shrieked aloud and her son did the like; and behold, in came the Wazir whose heart burnt within him at the sight of their lamentations, and he said, “What makes you weep?” So the Lady of Beauty acquainted him with what had happened between her son and the school boys; and he also wept, calling to mind his brother and what had past between them and what had betided his daughter and how he had failed to find out what mystery there was in the matter. Then he rose at once and, repairing to the audience-hall, went straight to the King and told his tale and craved his permission 10 to travel eastward to the city of Bassorah and ask after his brother’s son. Furthermore, he besought the Sultan to write for him letters patent, authorising him to seize upon Badr al-Din, his nephew and son-in-law, wheresoever he might find him. And he wept before the King, who had pity on him and wrote royal autographs to his deputies in all climes 11 and countries and cities; whereat the Wazir rejoiced and prayed for blessings on him. Then, taking leave of his Sovereign, he returned to his house, where he equipped himself and his daughter and his adopted child Ajib, with all things meet for a long march; and set out and travelled the first day and the second and the third and so forth till he arrived at Damascus-city. He found it a fair place abounding in trees and streams, even as the poet said of it:—
When I nighted and dayed in Damascus town,
Time sware such another he ne’er should view:
And careless we slept under wing of night,
Till dappled Morn ‘gan her smiles renew:
And dew-drops on branch in their beauty hung,
Like pearls to be dropt when the Zephyr blew:
And the Lake 12 was the page where birds read and note,
And the clouds set points to what breezes wrote.
The Wazir encamped on the open space called Al–Hasa; 13 and, after pitching tents, said to his servants, “A halt here for two days!” So they went into the city upon their several occasions, this to sell and this to buy; this to go to the Hammam and that to visit the Cathedral-mosque of the Banu Umayyah, the Ommiades, whose like is not in this world. 14 Ajib also went, with his attendant eunuch, for solace and diversion to the city and the servant followed with a quarter-staff 15 of almond-wood so heavy that if he struck a camel therewith the beast would never rise again. 16 When the people of Damascus saw Ajib’s beauty and brilliancy and perfect grace and symmetry (for he was a marvel of comeliness and winning loveliness, softer than the cool breeze of the North, sweeter than limpid waters to a man in drowth, and pleasanter than the health for which sick man sueth), a mighty many followed him, whilest others ran on before, and sat down on the road until he should come up, that they might gaze on him, till, as Destiny had decreed, the Eunuch stopped opposite the shop of Ajib’s father, Badr al-Din Hasan. Now his beard had grown long and thick and his wits had ripened during the twelve years which had passed over him, and the Cook and ex-rogue having died, the so-called Hasan of Bassorah had succeeded to his goods and shop, for that he had been formally adopted before the Kazi and witnesses. When his son and the Eunuch stepped before him he gazed on Ajib and, seeing how very beautiful he was, his heart fluttered and throbbed, and blood drew to blood and natural affection spake out and his bowels yearned over him. He had just dressed a conserve of pomegranate-grains with sugar, and Heaven-implanted love wrought within him; so he called to his son Ajib and said, “O my lord, O thou who hast gotten the mastery of my heart and my very vitals and to whom my bowels yearn; say me, wilt thou enter my house and solace my soul by eating of my meat?” Then his eyes streamed with tears which he could not stay, for he bethought him of what he had been and what he had become. When Ajib heard his father’s words his heart also yearned himwards and he looked at the Eunuch and said to him, “Of a truth, O my good guard, my heart yearns to this cook; he is as one that hath a son far away from him: so let us enter and gladden his heart by tasting of his hospitality. Perchance for our so doing Allah may reunite me with my father.” When the Eunuch heard these words he cried, “A fine thing this, by Allah! Shall the sons of Wazirs be seen eating in a common cook-shop? Indeed I keep off the folk from thee with this quarter-staff lest they even look upon thee; and I dare not suffer thee to enter this shop at all.” When Hasan of Bassorah heard his speech he marvelled and turned to the Eunuch with the tears pouring down his cheeks; and Ajib said, “Verily my heart loves him!” But he answered, “Leave this talk, thou shalt not go in.” Thereupon the father turned to the Eunuch and said, “O worthy sir, why wilt thou not gladden my soul by entering my shop? O thou who art like a chestnut, dark without but white of heart within! O thou of the like of whom a certain poet said ” The Eunuch burst out a-laughing and asked —“Said what? Speak out by Allah and be quick about it.” So Hasan the Bassorite began reciting these couplets:—
“If not master of manners or aught but discreet
In the household of Kings no trust could he take:
And then for the Harem! what Eunuch 17 is he
Whom angels would serve for his service sake.”
The Eunuch marvelled and was pleased at these words, so he took Ajib by the hand and went into the cook’s shop: whereupon Hasan the Bassorite ladled into a saucer some conserve of pomegranate-grains wonderfully good, dressed with almonds and sugar, saying, “You have honoured me with your company: eat then and health and happiness to you!” Thereupon Ajib said to his father, “Sit thee down and eat with us; so perchance Allah may unite us with him we long for.” Quoth Hasan, “O my son, hast thou then been afflicted in thy tender years with parting from those thou lovest?” Quoth Ajib, “Even so, O nuncle mine; my heart burns for the loss of a beloved one who is non other than my father; and indeed I come forth, I and my grandfather, 18 to circle and search the world for him. Oh, the pity of it, and how I long to meet him!” Then he wept with exceeding for his own bereavement, which recalled to him his long separation from dear friends and from his mother; and the Eunuch was moved to pity for him. Then they ate together till they were satisfied; and Ajib and the slave rose and left the shop. Hereat Hasan the Bassorite felt as though his soul had departed his body and had gone with them; for he could not lose sight of the boy during the twinkling of an eye, albeit he knew not that Ajib was his son. So he locked up his shop and hastened after them; and he walked so fast that he came up with them before they had gone out of the western gate. The Eunuch turned and asked him, “What ails the?”; and Badr al-Din answered, “When ye went from me, meseemed my soul had gone with you; and, as I had business without the city-gate, I purposed to bear you company till my matter was ordered and so return.” The Eunuch was angered and said to Ajib, “This is just what I feared! we ate that unlucky mouthful (which we are bound to respect), and here is the fellow following us from place to place; for the vulgar are ever the vulgar.” Ajib, turning and seeing the Cook just behind him, was wroth and his face reddened with rage and he said to the servant; “Let him walk the highway of the Moslems; but, when we turn off it to our tents, and find that he still follows us, we will send him about his business with a flea in his ear.” Then he bowed his head and walked on, the Eunuch walking behind him. But Hasan of Bassorah followed them to the plain Al–Hasa; and, as they drew near to the tents, they turned round and saw him close on their heels; so Ajib was very angry, fearing that the Eunuch might tell his grandfather what had happened. His indignation was the hotter for apprehension lest any say that after he had entered a cook-shop the cook had followed him. So he turned and looked at Hasan of Bassorah and found his eyes fixed on his own, for the father had become a body without a soul; and it seemed to Ajib that his eye was a treacherous eye or that he was some lewd fellow. So his rage redoubled and, stooping down, he took up a stone weighing half a pound and threw it at his father. It struck him on the forehead, cutting it open from eye-brow to eye-brow and causing the blood to stream down: and Hasan fell to the ground in a swoon whilst Ajib and the Eunuch made for the tents. When the father came to himself he wiped away the blood and tore off a strip from his turband and bound up his head, blaming himself the while, and saying, “I wronged the lad by shutting up my shop and following, so that he thought I was some evil-minded fellow.” Then he returned to his place where he busied himself with the sale of his sweetmeats; and he yearned after his mother at Bassorah, and wept over her and broke out repeating:—
“Unjust it were to bid the World 19 be just
And blame her not: She ne’er was made for justice:
Take what she gives thee, leave all grief aside,
For now to fair and then to foul her lust is.”
So Hasan of Bassorah set himself steadily to sell his sweetmeats; but the Wazir, his uncle, halted in Damascus three days and then marched upon Emesa, and passing through that town he made enquiry there and at every place where he rested. Thence he fared on by way of Hamah and Aleppo and thence to Diyar Bakr and Maridin and Mosul, still enquiring, till he arrived at Bassorah-city. Here, as soon as he had secured a lodging, he presented himself before the Sultan, who entreated him with high honour and the respect due to his rank, and asked the cause of his coming. The Wazir acquainted him with his history and told him that the Minister Nur al-Din was his brother; whereupon the Sultan exclaimed, “Allah have mercy upon him!” and added, “My good Sahib!” 20; he was my Wazir for fifteen years and I loved him exceedingly. Then he died leaving a son who abode only a single month after his father’s death; since which time he has disappeared and we could gain no tidings of him. But his mother, who is the daughter of my former Minister, is still among us.” When the Wazir Shams al-Din heard that his nephew’s mother was alive and well, he rejoiced and said, “O King I much desire to meet her.” The King on the instant gave him leave to visit her; so he betook himself to the mansion of his brother, Nur al-Din, and cast sorrowful glances on all things in and around it and kissed the threshold. Then he bethought him of his brother, Nur al-Din Ali, and how he had died in a strange land far from kith and kin and friends; and he wept and repeated these lines:—
“I wander ’mid these walls, my Layla’s walls,
And kissing this and other wall I roam:
‘Tis not the walls or roof my heart so loves,
But those who in this house had made their home.”
Then he passed through the gate into a courtyard and found a vaulted doorway builded of hardest syenite 21 inlaid with sundry kinds of multi-coloured marble. Into this he walked and wandered about the house and, throwing many a glance around, saw the name of his brother, Nur al-Din, written in gold wash upon the walls. So he went up to the inscription and kissed it and wept and thought of how he had been separated from his brother and had now lost him for ever, and he recited these couplets:—
“I ask of you from every rising sun,
And eke I ask when flasheth levenlight:
When I pass my nights in passion-pain,
Yet ne’er I ‘plain me of my painful plight;
My love! if longer last this parting throe
Little by little shall it waste my sprite.
An thou wouldst bless these eyne with sight of thee
One day on earth, I crave none other sight:
Think not another could possess my mind
Nor length nor breadth for other love I find.”
Then he walked on till he came to the apartment of his brother’s widow, the mother of Badr al-Din Hasan, the Egyptian. Now from the time of her son’s disappearance she had never ceased weeping and wailing through the light hours and the dark; and, when the years grew longsome with her, she built for him a tomb of marble in the midst of the saloon and there used to weep for him day and night, never sleeping save thereby. When the Wazir drew near her apartment, he heard her voice and stood behind the door while she addressed the sepulchre in verse and said:—
“Answer, by Allah! Sepulchre, are all his beauties gone?
Hath change the power to blight his charms, that Beauty’s paragon?
Thou art not earth, O Sepulchre! nor art thou sky to me;
How comes it, then, in thee I see conjoint the branch and moon?”
While she was bemoaning herself after this fashion, behold, the Wazir went in to her and saluted her and informed her that he was her husband’s brother; and, telling her all that had passed between them, laid open before her the whole story, how her son Badr al-Din Hasan had spent a whole night with his daughter full ten years ago but had disappeared in the morning. And he ended with saying, “My daughter conceived by thy son and bare a male child who is now with me, and he is thy son and thy son’s son by my daughter.” When she heard the tidings that her boy, Badr al-Din, was still alive and saw her brother-in-law, she rose up to him and threw herself at his feet and kissed them, reciting these lines:—
“Allah be good to him that gives glad tidings of thy steps;
In very sooth for better news mine ears would never sue:
Were he content with worn-out robe, upon his back I’d throw
A heart to pieces rent and torn when heard the word Adieu.”
Then the Wazir sent for Ajib and his grandmother stood up and fell on his neck and wept; but Shams al-Din said to her, “This is no time for weeping; this is the time to get thee ready for travelling with us to the land of Egypt; haply Allah will reunite me and thee with thy son and my nephew.” Replied she, “Hearkening and obedience;” and, rising at once, collected her baggage and treasures and her jewels, and equipped herself and her slave-girls for the march, whilst the Wazir went to take his leave of the Sultan of Bassorah, who sent by him presents and rarities for the Soldan of Egypt. Then he set out at once upon his homeward march and journeyed till he came to Damascus-city where he alighted in the usual place and pitched tents, and said to his suite, “We will halt a se’nnight here to buy presents and rare things for the Soldan.” Now Ajib bethought him of the past so he said to the Eunuch, “O Laik, I want a little diversion; come, let us go down to the great bazar of Damascus, 22 and see what hath become of the cook whose sweetmeats we ate and whose head we broke, for indeed he was kind to us and we entreated him scurvily.” The Eunuch answered, “Hearing is obeying!” So they went forth from the tents; and the tie of blood drew Ajib towards his father, and forthwith they passed through the gateway, Bab al-Faradis 23 hight, and entered the city and ceased not walking through the streets till they reached the cookshop, where they found Hasan of Bassorah standing at the door. It was near the time of mid-afternoon prayer 24 and it so fortuned that he had just dressed a confection of pomegranate-grains. When the twain drew near to him and Ajib saw him, his heart yearned towards him, and noticing the scar of the blow, which time had darkened on his brow, he said to him, “Peace be on thee, O man!” 25 know that my heart is with thee.” But when Badr al-Din looked upon his son his vitals yearned and his heart fluttered, and he hung his head earthwards and sought to make his tongue give utterance to his words, but he could not. Then he raised his head humbly and suppliant-wise towards his boy and repeated these couplets:—
“I longed for my beloved but when I saw his face,
Abashed I held my tongue and stood with downcast eye;
And hung my head in dread and would have hid my love,
But do whatso I would hidden it would not lie;
Volumes of plaints I had prepared, reproach and blame,
But when we met, no single word remembered I.”
And then said he to them, “Heal my broken heart and eat of my sweetmeats; for, by Allah, I cannot look at thee but my heart flutters. Indeed I should not have followed thee the other day, but that I was beside myself.” “By Allah,” answered Ajib, “thou dost indeed love us! We ate in thy house a mouthful when we were here before and thou madest us repent of it, for that thou followedst us and wouldst have disgraced us; so now we will not eat aught with thee save on condition that thou make oath not to go out after us nor dog us. Otherwise we will not visit thee again during our present stay; for we shall halt a week here, whilst my grandfather buys certain presents for the King.” Quoth Hasan of Bassorah, “I promise you this.” So Ajib and the Eunuch entered the shop, and his father set before them a saucer-full of conserve of pomegranate-grains. Said Ajib, “Sit thee down and eat with us, so haply shall Allah dispel our sorrows.” Hasan the Bassorite was joyful and sat down and ate with them; but his eyes kept gazing fixedly on Ajib’s face, for his very heart and vitals clove to him; and at last the boy said to him, “Did I not tell thee thou art a most noyous dotard?; so do stint thy staring in my face!” But when Hasan of Bassorah heard his son’s words he repeated these lines:—
“Thou hast some art the hearts of men to clip;
Close-veiled, far-hidden mystery dark and deep:
O thou whose beauties sham the lustrous moon,
Wherewith the saffron Morn fears rivalship!
Thy beauty is a shrine shall ne’er decay;
Whose signs shall grow until they all outstrip; 26
Must I be thirst-burnt by that Eden-brow
And die of pine to taste that Kausar-lip?” 27
Hasan kept putting morsels into Ajib’s mouth at one time and at another time did the same by the Eunuch and they ate till they were satisfied and could no more. Then all rose up and the cook poured water on their hands; 28 and, loosing a silken waist-shawl, dried them and sprinkled them with rose-water from a casting-bottle he had by him. Then he went out and presently returned with a gugglet of sherbet flavoured with rose-water, scented with musk and cooled with snow; and he set this before them saying, “Complete your kindness to me!” So Ajib took the gugglet and drank and passed it to the Eunuch; and it went round till their stomachs were full and they were surfeited with a meal larger than their wont. Then they went away and made haste in walking till they reached the tents, and Ajib went in to his grandmother, who kissed him and, thinking of her son, Badr al-Din Hasan, groaned aloud and wept and recited these lines:—
“I still had hoped to see thee and enjoy thy sight,
For in thine absence life has lost its kindly light:
I swear my vitals wot none other love but thine
By Allah, who can read the secrets of the sprite!”
Then she asked Ajib, “O my son! where hast thou been?”; and he answered, “In Damascus-city;” Whereupon she rose and set before him a bit of scone and a saucer of conserve of pomegranate-grains (which was too little sweetened), and she said to the Eunuch, “Sit down with thy master!” Said the servant to himself, “By Allah, we have no mind to eat: I cannot bear the smell of bread;” but he sat down and so did Ajib, though his stomach was full of what he had eaten already and drunken. Nevertheless he took a bit of the bread and dipped it in the pomegranate-conserve and made shift to eat it, but he found it too little sweetened, for he was cloyed and surfeited, so he said, “Faugh; what be this wild-beast 29 stuff?” “O my son,” cried his grandmother, “dost thou find fault with my cookery? I cooked this myself and none can cook it as nicely as I can save thy father, Badr al-Din Hasan.” “By Allah, O my lady, Ajib answered, “this dish is nasty stuff; for we saw but now in the city of Bassorah a cook who so dresseth pomegranate-grains that the very smell openeth a way to the heart and the taste would make a full man long to eat; and, as for this mess compared with his, ‘tis not worth either much or little.” When his grandmother heard his words she waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and looked at the servant — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This may mean either “it is of Mosul fashion” or, it is of muslin.
2 To the English reader these lines would appear the reverse of apposite; but Orientals have their own ways of application, and all allusions to Badawi partings are effective and affecting. The civilised poets of Arab cities throw the charm of the Desert over their verse by images borrowed from its scenery, the dromedary, the mirage and the well as naturally as certain of our bards who hated the country, babbled of purling rills, etc. thoroughly to feel Arabic poetry one must know the Desert (Pilgrimage iii., 63).
3 In those days the Arabs and the Portuguese recorded everything which struck them, as the Chinese and Japanese in our times. And yet we complain of the amount of our modern writing!
4 This is mentioned because it is the act preliminary to naming the babe.
5 Arab. “Kahramánát” from Kahramán, an old Persian hero who conversed with the Simurgh–Griffon. Usually the word is applied to women-at-arms who defend the Harem, like the Urdu-begani of India, whose services were lately offered to England (1885), or the “Amazons” of Dahome.
6 Meaning he grew as fast in one day as other children in a month.
7 Arab. Al–Aríf; the tutor, the assistant-master.
8 Arab. “Ibn harám,” a common term of abuse; and not a factual reflection on the parent. I have heard a mother apply the term to her own son.
9 Arab. “Khanjar” from the Persian, a syn. with the Arab. “Jambiyah.” It is noted in my Pilgrimage iii., pp. 72,75. To “silver the dagger” means to become a rich man. From “Khanjar,” not from its fringed loop or strap, I derive our silly word “hanger.” Dr. Steingass would connect it with Germ. Fänger, e.g. Hirschfänger.
10 Again we have “Dastur” for Izn.”
11 Arab. “Iklím”; the seven climates of Ptolemy.
12 Arab. “Al–Ghadir,” lit. a place where water sinks, a lowland: here the drainage-lakes east of Damascus into which the Baradah (Abana?) discharges. The higher eastern plain is “Al- Ghutah” before noticed.
13 The “Plain of Pebbles” still so termed at Damascus; an open space west of the city.
14 Every Guide-book, even the Reverend Porter’s “Murray,” gives a long account of this Christian Church ‘verted to a Mosque.
15 Arab. “Nabút”; Pilgrimage i. 336.
16 The Bres. Edit. says, “would have knocked him into Al-Yaman,” (Southern Arabia), something like our slang phrase “into the middle of next week.”
17 Arab. “Khádim”: lit. a servant, politely applied (like Aghá = master) to a castrato. These gentry wax furious if baldly called “Tawáshi” = Eunuch. A mauvais plaisant in Egypt used to call me The Agha because a friend had placed his wife under my charge.
18 This sounds absurd enough in English, but Easterns always put themselves first for respect.
19 In Arabic the World is feminine.
20 Arab. “Sáhib” = lit. a companion; also a friend and especially applied to the Companions of Mohammed. Hence the Sunnis claim for them the honour of “friendship” with the Apostle; but the Shia’hs reply that the Arab says “Sahaba-hu’l-himár” (the Ass was his Sahib or companion). In the text it is a Wazirial title, in modern India it is = gentleman, e.g. “Sahib log” (the Sahib people) means their white conquerors, who, by the by, mostly mispronounce the word “Sáb.”
21 Arab. “Suwán,” prop. Syenite, from Syene (Al–Suwan) but applied to flint and any hard stone.
22 It was famous in the middle ages, and even now it is, perhaps, the most interesting to travellers after that “Sentina Gentium,” the “Bhendi Bazar” of unromantic Bombay.
23 “The Gate of the Gardens,” in the northern wall, a Roman archway of the usual solid construction shaming not only our modern shams, but our finest masonry.
24 Arab. “Al–Asr,” which may mean either the hour or the prayer. It is also the moment at which the Guardian Angels relieve each other (Sale’s Koran, chapt. v.).
25 Arab. “Ya házá” = O this (one)! a somewhat slighting address equivalent to “Heus tu! O thou, whoever thou art.” Another form is “Yá hú” = O he! Can this have originated Swift’s “Yahoo”?
26 Alluding to the {Greek Letters} (“minor miracles which cause surprise”) performed by Saints’ tombs, the mildest form of thaumaturgy. One of them gravely recorded in the Dabistan (ii. 226) is that of the holy Jamen, who opened the Sámran or bead-bracelet from the arm of the beautiful Chistápá with member erect, “thus evincing his manly strength and his command over himself”(!)
27 The River of Paradise, a lieu commun of poets (Koran, chapt. cviii.): the water is whiter than milk or silver, sweeter than honey, smoother than cream, more odorous than musk; its banks are of chrysolite and it is drunk out of silver cups set around it thick as stars. Two pipes conduct it to the Prophet’s Pond which is an exact square, one month’s journey in compass. Kausar is spirituous like wine; Salsabil sweet like clarified honey; the Fount of Mildness is like milk and the Fount of Mercy like liquid crystal.
28 The Moslem does not use the European basin because water which has touched an impure skin becomes impure. Hence it is poured out from a ewer (“ibrík” Pers. Abríz) upon the hands and falls into a basin (“tisht”) with an open-worked cover.
29 Arab. “Wahsh,” a word of many meanings; nasty, insipid, savage, etc. The offside of a horse is called Wahshi opposed to Insi, the near side. The Amir Taymur (“Lord Iron”) whom Europeans unwittingly call after his Persian enemies’ nickname, “Tamerlane,” i.e. Taymur-I-lang, or limping Taymur, is still known as “Al–Wahsh” (the wild beast) at Damascus, where his Tartars used to bury men up to their necks and play at bowls with their heads for ninepins.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ajib’s grandmother heard his words, she waxed wroth and looked at the servant and said, “Woe to thee! dost thou spoil my son, 1 and dost take him into common cookshops?” The Eunuch was frightened and denied, saying, “We did not go into the shop; we only passed by it.” “By Allah,” cried Ajib, “but we did go in and we ate till it came out of our nostrils, and the dish was better than thy dish!” Then his grandmother rose and went and told her brother-in-law, who was incensed against the Eunuch, and sending for him asked him, “Why didst thou take my son into a cookshop?”; and the Eunuch being frightened answered, “We did not go in.” But Ajib said, “We did go inside and ate conserve of pomegranate-grains till we were full; and the cook gave us to drink of iced and sugared sherbet.” At this the Wazir’s indignation redoubled and he questioned the Castrato but, as he still denied, the Wazir said to him, “If thou speak sooth, sit down and eat before us.” So he came forward and tried to eat, but could not eat and threw away the mouthful crying “O my lord! I am surfeited since yesterday.” By this the Wazir was certified that he had eaten at the cook’s and bade the slaves throw him 2 which they did. Then they came down on him with a rib-basting which burned him till he cried for mercy and help from Allah, saying, “O my master, beat me no more and I will tell thee the truth;” whereupon the Wazir stopped the bastinado and said, “Now speak thou sooth.” Quoth the Eunuch, “Know then that we did enter the shop of a cook while he was dressing conserve of pomegranate-grains and he set some of it before us: by Allah! I never ate in my life its like, nor tasted aught nastier than this stuff which is now before us.”3 Badr al-Din Hasan’s mother was angry at this and said, “Needs thou must go back to the cook and bring me a saucer of conserved pomegranate-grains from that which is in his shop and who it to thy master, that he may say which be the better and the nicer, mine or his.” Said the unsexed, “I will.” So on the instant she gave him a saucer and a half dinar and he returned to the shop and said to the cook, “O Shaykh of all Cooks, 4 we have laid a wager concerning thy cookery in my lord’s house, for they have conserve of pomegranate-grains there also; so give me this half-dinar’s worth and look to it; for I have eaten a full meal of stick on account of thy cookery, and so do not let me eat aught more thereof.” Hasan of Bassorah laughed and answered, “By Allah, none can dress this dish as it should be dressed save myself and my mother, and she at this time is in a far country.” Then he ladled out a saucer-full; and, finishing it off with musk and rose-water, put it in a cloth which he sealed 5 and gave it to the Eunuch, who hastened back with it. No sooner had Badr al-Din Hasan’s mother tasted it and perceived its fine flavour and the excellence of the cookery, than she knew who had dressed it, and she screamed and fell down fainting. The Wazir, sorely started, sprinkled rose-water upon her and after a time she recovered and said, “If my son be yet of this world, none dressed this conserve of pomegranate-grains but he; and this Cook is my very son Badr al-Din Hasan; there is no doubt of it nor can there be any mistake, for only I and he knew how to prepare it and I taught him.” When the Wazir heard her words he joyed with exceeding joy and said, “O the longing of me for a sight of my brother’s son! I wonder if the days will ever unite us with him! Yet it is to Almighty Allah alone that we look for bringing about this meeting.” Then he rose without stay or delay and, going to his suite said to them, “Be off, some fifty of you with sticks and staves to the Cook’s shop and demolish it; then pinion his arms behind him with his own turband, saying, ‘It was thou madest that foul mess of pomegranate-grains!’ and drag him here perforce but without doing him a harm.” And they replied, “It is well.” Then the Wazir rode off without losing an instant to the Palace and, foregathering with the Viceroy of Damascus, showed him the Sultan’s orders. After careful perusal he kissed the letter, and placing it upon his head said to his visitor, “Who is this offender of thine?” Quoth the Wazir, “A man who is a cook.” So the Viceroy at once sent his apparitors to the shop; which they found demolished and everything in it broken to pieces; for whilst the Wazir was riding to the palace his men had done his bidding. Then they awaited his return from the audience, and Hasan of Bassorah who was their prisoner kept saying, “I wonder what they have found in the conserve of pomegranate-grains to bring things to this pass!” 6 When the Wazir returned to them, after his visit to the Viceroy who had given him formal permission to take up his debtor and depart with him, on entering the tents he called for the Cook. They brought him forward pinioned with his turband; and, when Badr al-Din Hasan saw his uncle, he wept with excessive weeping and said, “O my lord, what is my offence against thee?” “Art thou the man who dressed that conserve of pomegranate-grains?”; asked the Wazir, and he answered “Yes! didst thou find in it aught to call for the cutting off of my head?” Quoth the Wazir, “That were the least of thy deserts!” Quoth the cook, “O my lord, wilt thou not tell me my crime and what aileth the conserve of pomegranate-grains?” “Presently,” replied the Wazir and called aloud to his men, “Bring hither the camels.” So they struck the tents and by the Wazir’s orders the servants took Badr al-Din Hasan, and set him in a chest which they padlocked and put on a camel. Then they departed and stinted not journeying till nightfall, when they halted and ate some victual, and took Badr al-Din Hasan out of his chest and gave him a meal and locked him up again. They set out once more and travelled till they reached Kimrah, where they took him out of the box and brought him before the Wazir who asked him, “Art thou he who dressed that conserve of pomegranate-grains?” He answered “Yes, O my lord!”; and the Wazir said “Fetter him!” So they fettered him and returned him to the chest and fared on again till they reached Cairo and lighted at the quarter called Al–Raydaniyah.7 Then the Wazir gave order to take Badr al-Din Hasan out of the chest and sent for a carpenter and said to him, “Make me a cross of wood 8 for his fellow!” Cried Badr al-Din Hasan “And what wilt thou do with it?”; and the Wazir replied, “I mean to crucify thee thereon, and nail thee thereto and parade thee all about the city.” “And why wilt thou use me after this fashion?” “Because of thy villanous cookery of conserved pomegranate-grains; how durst thou dress it and sell it lacking pepper?” “And for that it lacked pepper wilt thou do all this to me? Is it not enough that thou hast broken my shop and smashed my gear and boxed me up in a chest and fed me only once a day?” “Too little pepper! too little pepper! this is a crime which can be expiated only upon the cross!” Then Badr al-Din Hasan marvelled and fell a-mourning for his life; whereupon the Wazir asked him, “Of what thinkest thou?”; and he answered him, “Of maggoty heads like thine; 9 for an thou had one ounce of sense thou hadst not treated me thus.” Quoth the Wazir, “It is our duty to punish thee lest thou do the like again.” Quoth Badr al-Din Hasan, “Of a truth my offense were over-punished by the least of what thou hast already done to me; and Allah damn all conserve of pomegranate-grains and curse the hour when I cooked it and would I had died ere this!” But the Wazir rejoined, “There is no help for it; I must crucify a man who sells conserve of pomegranate-grains lacking pepper.” All this time the carpenter was shaping the wood and Badr al-Din looked on; and thus they did till night, when his uncle took him and clapped him into the chest, saying, “The thing shall be done to-morrow!” Then he waited until he knew Badr al-Din “Hasan to be asleep, when he mounted; and taking the chest up before him, entered the city and rode on to his own house, where he alighted and said to his daughter, Sitt al-Husn, “Praised be Allah who hath reunited thee with thy husband, the son of thine uncle! Up now, and order the house as it was on thy bridal night.” So the servants arose and lit the candles; and the Wazir took out his plan of the nuptial chamber, and directed them what to do till they had set everything in its stead, so that whoever saw it would have no doubt but it was the very night of the marriage. Then he bade them put down Badr al-Din Hasan’s turband on the settle, as he had deposited it with his own hand, and in like manner his bag-trousers and the purse which were under the mattress: and told daughter to undress herself and go to bed in the private chamber as on her wedding-night, adding, “When the son of thine uncle comes in to thee, say to him:— Thou hast loitered while going to the privy; and call him to lie by thy side and keep him in converse till daybreak, when we will explain the whole matter to him.” Then he bade take Badr al-Din Hasan out of the chest, after loosing the fetters from his feet and stripping off all that was on him save the fine shirt of blue silk in which he had slept on his wedding-night; so that he was well-nigh naked and trouserless. All this was done whilst he was sleeping on utterly unconscious. Then, by doom of Destiny, Badr al-Din Hasan turned over and awoke; and, finding himself in a lighted vestibule, said to himself, “Surely I am in the mazes of some dream.” So he rose and went on to a little to an inner door and looked in and lo! he was in the very chamber wherein the bride had been displayed to him; and there he saw the bridal alcove and the settle and his turband and all his clothes. When he saw this he as confounded and kept advancing with one foot, and retiring with the other, saying, “Am I sleeping or waking?” And he began rubbing his forehead and saying (for indeed he was thoroughly astounded), “By Allah, verily this is the chamber of the bride who was displayed before me! Where am I then? I was surely but now in a box!” Whilst he was talking with himself, Sitt al-Husn suddenly lifted the corner of the chamber-curtain and said, “O my lord, wilt thou not come in? Indeed thou hast loitered long in the water-closet.” When he heard her words and saw her face he burst out laughing and said, “Of a truth this is a very nightmare among dreams!” Then he went in sighing, and pondered what had come to pass with him and was perplexed about his case, and his affair became yet more obscure to him when he saw his turband and bag-trousers and when, feeling the pocket, he found the purse containing the thousand gold pieces. So he stood still and muttered, “Allah is all knowing! Assuredly I am dreaming a wild waking dream!” Then said the Lady of Beauty to him, “What ails thee to look puzzled and perplexed?”; adding, “Thou wast a very different man during the first of the night!” He laughed and asked her, “How long have I been away from thee?”; and she answered him, “Allah preserve thee and His Holy Name be about thee! Thou didst but go out an hour ago for an occasion and return. Are thy wits clean gone?” When Badr al-Din Hasan heard this, he laughed, 10 and said, “Thou hast spoken truth; but, when I went out from thee, I forgot myself awhile in the draught-house and dreamed that I was a cook at Damascus and abode there ten years; and there came to me a boy who was of the sons of the great, and with him an Eunuch.” Here he passed his hand over his forehead and, feeling the scar, cried, “By Allah, O my lady, it must have been true, for he struck my forehead with a stone and cut it open from eye-brow to eye-brow; and here is the mark: so it must have been on wake.” Then he added, “But perhaps I dreamt it when we fell asleep, I and thou, in each other’s arms, for meseems it was as though I travelled to Damascus without tarbush and trousers and set up as a cook there.” Then he was perplexed and considered for awhile, and said, “By Allah, I also fancied that I dressed a conserve of pomegranate-grains and put too little pepper in it. By Allah, I must have slept in the numerocent and have seen the whole thing in a dream; but how long was that dream!” “Allah upon thee,” said Sitt al-Husn, “and what more sawest thou?” So he related all to her; and presently said, “By Allah had I not woke up they would have nailed me to a cross of wood!” “Wherefore?” asked she; and he answered, “For putting too little pepper in the conserve of pomegranate-grains, and meseemed they demolished my shop and dashed to pieces my pots and pans, destroyed all my stuff and put me in a box; they then sent for the carpenter to fashion a cross for me and would have crucified me thereon. Now Alhamdolillah! thanks be to Allah, for that all this happened to me in sleep, and not on wake.” Sitt al-Husn laughed and clasped him to her bosom and he her to his: then he thought again and said, “By Allah, it could not be save while I was awake: truly I know not what to think of it.” Then he lay him down and all the night he was bewildered about his case, now saying, “I was dreaming!” and then saying, “I was awake!”, till morning, when his uncle Shams al-Din, the Wazir, came to him and saluted him. When Badr al-Din Hasan saw him he said, “By Allah, art thou not he who bade bind my hands behind me and smash my shop and nail me to a cross on a matter of conserved pomegranate-grains because the dish lacked a sufficiency of pepper?” Whereupon the Wazir said to him, “Know, O my son, that truth hath shown it soothfast and the concealed hath been revealed! 11 Thou art the son of my brother, and I did all this with thee to certify myself that thou wast indeed he who went in unto my daughter that night. I could not be sure of this, till I saw that thou knewest the chamber and thy turband and thy trousers and thy gold and the papers in thy writing and in that of thy father, my brother; for I had never seen thee afore that and knew thee not; and as to thy mother I have prevailed upon her to come with me from Bassorah.” So saying, he threw himself on his nephew’s breast and wept for joy; and Badr al-Din Hasan, hearing these words from his uncle, marvelled with exceeding marvel and fell on his neck and also shed tears for excess of delight. Then said the Wazir to him, “O my son, the sole cause of all this is what passed between me and thy sire;” and all that had occurred to part them. Lastly the Wazir sent for Ajib; and when his father saw him he cried, “And this is he who struck me with the stone!” Quoth the Wazir, “This is thy son!” And Badr al-Din Hasan threw himself upon his boy and began repeating:—
“Long have I wept o’er severance ban and bane,
Long from mine eyelids tear-rills rail and rain:
And vowed I if Time re-union bring
My tongue from name of “Severance” I’ll restrain:
Joy hath o’ercome me to this stress that I
From joy’s revulsion to shed tears am fain:
Ye are so trained to tears, O eyne of me!
You weep with pleasure as you weep with pain.” 12
When he had ended his verse his mother came in and threw herself upon him and began reciting:—
“When we met we complained,
Our hearts were sore wrung:
But plaint is not pleasant
Fro’ messenger’s tongue.”
Then she wept and related to him what had befallen her since his departure, and he told her what he had suffered, and they thanked Allah Almighty for their reunion. Two days after his arrival the Wazir Shams al-din went in to the Sultan and, kissing the ground between his hands, greeted him with the greeting due to Kings. The Sultan rejoiced at his return and his face brightened and, placing him hard by his side, 13 asked him to relate all he had seen in his wayfaring and whatso had betided him in his going and coming. So the Wazir told him all that had passed from first to last and the Sultan said, “Thanks be to Allah for thy victory 14 and the winning of thy wish and thy safe return to thy children and thy people! And now I needs must see the son of thy brother, Hasan of Bassorah, so bring him to the audience-hall to-morrow.” Shams al-Din replied, “Thy slave shall stand in thy presence to-morrow, Inshallah, if it be God’s will.” Then he saluted him and, returning to his own house, informed his nephew of the Sultan’s desire to see him, whereto replied Hasan, whilome the Bassorite, “The slave is obedient to the orders of his lord.” And the result was that next day he accompanied his uncle, Shams al-Din, to the Divan; and, after saluting the Sultan and doing him reverence in most ceremonious obeisance and with most courtly obsequiousness, he began improvising these verses:—
“The first in rank to kiss the ground shall deign
Before you, and all ends and aims attain:
You are Honour’s fount; and all that hope of you,
Shall gain more honour than Hope hoped to gain.”
The Sultan smiled and signed to him to sit down. So he took a seat close to his uncle, Shams al-Din, and the King asked him his name. Quoth Badr al-Din Hasan, “The meanest of thy slaves is known as Hasan the Bassorite, who is instant in prayer for thee day and night.” The Sultan was pleased at his words and, being minded to test his learning and prove his good breeding, asked him, “Dost thou remember any verses in praise of the mole on the cheek?” He answered, “I do,” and began reciting:—
“When I think of my love and our parting-smart,
My groans go forth and my tears upstart:
He’s a mole that reminds me in colour and charms
O’ the black o’ the eye and the grain 15 of the heart.”
The King admired and praised the two couplets and said to him, “Quote something else; Allah bless thy sire and may thy tongue never tire!” So he began:—
“That cheek-mole’s spot they evened with a grain
Of musk, nor did they here the simile strain:
Nay, marvel at the face comprising all
Beauty, nor falling short by single grain.”
The King shook with pleasure 16 and said to him, “Say more: Allah bless thy days!” So he began:—
“O you whose mole on cheek enthroned recalls
A dot of musk upon a stone of ruby,
Grant me your favours! Be not stone at heart!
Core of my heart whose only sustenance you be!”
Quoth the King, “Fair comparison, O Hasan! 17 thou hast spoken excellently well and hast proved thyself accomplished in every accomplishment! Now explain to me how many meanings be there in the Arabic language 18 for the word Khal or mole.” He replied, “Allah keep the King! Seven and fifty and some by tradition say fifty.” Said the Sultan, “Thou sayest sooth,” presently adding, “Hast thou knowledge as to the points of excellence in beauty?” “Yes,” answered Badr al-Din Hasan, “Beauty consisteth in brightness of face, clearness of complexion, shapeliness of nose, gentleness of eyes, sweetness of mouth, cleverness of speech, slenderness of shape and seemliness of all attributes. But the acme of beauty is in the hair and, indeed, al-Shihab the Hijazi hath brought together all these items in his doggrel verse of the metre Rajaz, 19 and it is this:
Say thou to skin “Be soft,” to face “Be fair,”
And gaze, nor shall they blame howso thou stare:
Fine nose in Beauty’s list is high esteemed;
Nor less an eye full, bright and debonnair:
Eke did they well to laud the lovely lips
(Which e’en the sleep of me will never spare);
A winning tongue, a stature tall and straight; 20
A seemly union of gifts rarest rare:
But Beauty’s acme in the hair one views it;
So hear my strain and with some few excuse it!”
The Sultan was captivated by his converse and, regarding him as a friend, asked, “What meaning is there in the saw ‘Shurayh is foxier than the fox’?” And he answered, “Know, O King (whom Almighty Allah keep!) that the legist Shurayh 21 was wont, during the days of the plague, to make a visitation to Al–Najaf; and, whenever he stood up to pray, there came a fox which would plant himself facing him and which, by mimicking his movements, distracted him from his devotions. Now when this became longsome to him, one day he doffed his shirt and set it upon a cane and shook out the sleeves; then placing his turband on the top and girding its middle with a shawl, he stuck it up in the place where he used to pray. Presently up trotted the fox according to his custom and stood over against the figure, whereupon Shurayh came behind him, and took him. Hence the sayer saith, ‘Shurayh foxier than the fox.’” When the Sultan heard Badr al-Din Hasan’s explanation he said to his uncle, Shams al-Din, “Truly this the son of thy brother is perfect in courtly breeding and I do not think that his like can be found in Cairo.” At this Hasan arose and kissed the ground before him and sat down again as a Mameluke should sit before his master. When the Sultan had thus assured himself of his courtly breeding and bearing and his knowledge of the liberal arts and belles-lettres, he joyed with exceeding joy and invested him with a splendid robe of honour and promoted him to an office whereby he might better his condition. 22 Then Badr al-Din Hasan arose and, kissing the ground before the King, wished him continuance of glory and asked leave to retire with his uncle, the Wazir Shams al-Din. The Sultan gave him leave and he issued forth and the two returned home, where food was set before them and they ate what Allah had given them. After finishing his meal Hasan repaired to the sitting-chamber of his wife, the Lady of Beauty, and told her what had past between him and the Sultan; whereupon quoth she, “He cannot fail to make thee a cup-companion and give thee largess in excess and load thee with favours and bounties; so shalt thou, by Allah’s blessing, dispread, like the greater light, the rays of thy perfection wherever thou be, on shore or on sea.” Said he to her, “I purpose to recite a Kasidah, an ode, in his praise, that he may redouble in affection for me.” “Thou art right in thine intent,” she answered, “so gather thy wits together and weigh thy words, and I shall surely see my husband favoured with his highest favour.” Thereupon Hasan shut himself up and composed these couplets on a solid base and abounding in inner grace and copies them out in a hand-writing of the nicest taste. They are as follows:—
Mine is a Chief who reached most haught estate,
Treading the pathways of the good and great:
His justice makes all regions safe and sure,
And against froward foes bars every gate:
Bold lion, hero, saint, e’en if you call
Seraph or Sovran 23 he with all may rate!
The poorest supplicant rich from him returns,
All words to praise him were inadequate.
He to the day of peace is saffron Morn,
And murky Night in furious warfare’s bate.
Bow ‘neath his gifts our necks, and by his deeds
As King of freeborn 24 souls he ‘joys his state:
Allah increase for us his term of years,
And from his lot avert all risks and fears!
When he had finished transcribing the lines, he despatched them, in charge of one of his uncle’s slaves, to the Sultan, who perused them and his fancy was pleased; so he read them to those present and all praised them with the highest praise. Thereupon he sent for the writer to his sitting-chamber and said to him, “Thou art from this day forth my boon-companion and I appoint to thee a monthly solde of a thousand dirhams, over and above that I bestowed on thee aforetime.” So Hasan rose and, kissing the ground before the King several times, prayed for the continuance of his greatness and glory and length of life and strength. Thus Badr al-Din Hasan the Bassorite waxed high in honour and his fame flew forth to many regions and he abode in all comfort and solace and delight of life with his uncle and his own folk till Death overtook him. When the Caliph Harun al-Rashid heard this story from the mouth of his Wazir, Ja’afar the Barmecide, he marvelled much and said, “It behoves that these stories be written in letters of liquid gold.” Then he set the slave at liberty and assigned to the youth who had slain his wife such a monthly stipend as sufficed to make his life easy; he also gave him a concubine from amongst his own slave-girls and the young man became one of his cup-companions. “Yet this story,” (continued Shahrazad) “is in no wise stranger than the tale of the Tailor and the Hunchback and the Jew and the Reeve and the Nazarene, and what betided them.” Quoth the King, “And what may that be?” So Shahrazad began, in these words,25
1 For “grandson” as being more affectionate. Easterns have not yet learned that clever Western saying:— The enemies of our enemies are our friends.
2 This was a simple bastinado on the back, not the more ceremonious affair of beating the feet-soles. But it is surprising what the Egyptians can bear; some of the rods used in the time of the Mameluke Beys are nearly as thick as a man’s wrist.
3 The woman-like spite of the eunuch intended to hurt the grandmother’s feelings.
4 The usual Cairene “chaff.”
5 A necessary precaution against poison (Pilgrimage i. 84, and iii. 43).
6 The Bresl. Edit. (ii. 108) describes the scene at greater length.
7 The Bul. Edit. gives by mistake of diacritical points, “Zabdaniyah:” Raydaniyah is or rather was a camping ground to the North of Cairo.
8 Arab. “La’abat” = a plaything, a puppet, a lay figure. Lane (i. 326) conjectures that the cross is so called because it resembles a man with arms extended. But Moslems never heard of the fanciful ideas of mediæval Christian divines who saw the cross everywhere and in everything. The former hold that Pharaoh invented the painful and ignominious punishment. (Koran, chapt. vii.).
9 Here good blood, driven to bay, speaks out boldly. But, as a rule, the humblest and mildest Eastern when in despair turns round upon his oppressors like a wild cat. Some of the criminals whom Fath Ali Shah of Persia put to death by chopping down the fork, beginning at the scrotum, abused his mother till the knife reached their vitals and they could no longer speak.
10 These repeated “laughs” prove the trouble of his spirit. Noble Arabs “show their back-teeth” so rarely that their laughter is held worthy of being recorded by their biographers.
11 A popular phrase, derived from the Koranic “Truth is come, and falsehood is vanished: for falsehood is of short continuance” (chapt. xvii.). It is an equivalent of our adaptation from 1 Esdras iv. 41, “Magna est veritas et prævalebit.” But the great question still remains, What is Truth?
12 In Night lxxv. these lines will occur with variants.
13 This is always mentioned: the nearer seat the higher the honour.
14 Alluding to the phrase “Al-safar zafar” = voyaging is victory (Pilgrimage i., 127).
15 Arab. “Habb;” alluding to the black drop in the human heart which the Archangel Gabriel removed from Mohammed by opening his breast.
16 This phrase, I have said, often occurs: it alludes to the horripilation (Arab. Kush’arírah), horror or gooseflesh which, in Arab as in Hindu fables, is a symptom of great joy. So Boccaccio’s “pelo arriciato” v., 8: Germ. Gänsehaut.
17 Arab. “Hasanta ya Hasan” = Bene detto, Benedetto! the usual word-play vulgarly called “pun”: Hasan (not Hassan, as we will write it) meaning “beautiful.”
18 Arab. “Loghah” also = a vocabulary, a dictionary; the Arabs had them by camel-loads.
19 The seventh of the sixteen “Bahr” (metres) in Arabic prosody; the easiest because allowing the most license and, consequently, a favourite for didactic, homiletic and gnomic themes. It means literally “agitated” and was originally applied to the rude song of the Cameleer. De Sacy calls this doggrel “the poet’s ass” (Torrens, Notes xxvi.). It was the only metre in which Mohammed the Apostle ever spoke: he was no poet (Koran xxxvi., 69) but he occasionally recited a verse and recited it wrongly (Dabistan iii., 212). In Persian prosody Rajaz is the seventh of nineteen and has six distinct varieties (pp. 79–81), “Gladwin’s Dissertations on Rhetoric,” etc. Calcutta, 1801). I shall have more to say about it in the Terminal Essay.
20 “Her stature tall — I hate a dumpy woman” (Don Juan).
21 A worthy who was Kazi of Kufah (Cufa) in the seventh century. Al–Najaf, generally entitled “Najaf al-Ashraf” (the Venerand) is the place where Ali, the son-in-law of Mohammed, lies or is supposed to lie buried, and has ever been a holy place to the Shi’ahs. I am not certain whether to translate “Sa’alab” by fox or jackal; the Arabs make scant distinction between them. “Abu Hosayn” (Father of the Fortlet) is certainly the fox, and as certainly “Sha’arhar” is the jackal from the Pehlevi Shagál or Shaghál.
22 Usually by all manner of extortions and robbery, corruption and bribery, the ruler’s motto being
Fiat injustitia ruat Cœlum.
There is no more honest man than the Turkish peasant or the private soldier; but the process of deterioration begins when he is made a corporal and culminates in the Pasha. Moreover official dishonesty is permitted by public opinion, because it belongs to the condition of society. A man buys a place (as in England two centuries ago) and retains it by presents to the heads of offices. Consequently he must recoup himself in some way, and he mostly does so by grinding the faces of the poor and by spoiling the widow and the orphan. The radical cure is high pay; but that phase of society refuses to afford it.
23 Arab. “Malik” (King) and “Malak” (angel) the words being written the same when lacking vowels and justifying the jingle.
24 Arab. “Hurr”; the Latin “ingenuus,” lit. freeborn; metaph. noble as opp. to a slave who is not expected to do great or good deeds. In pop. use it corresponds, like “Fatá,” with our “gentleman.”
25 This is one of the best tales for humour and movement, and Douce and Madden show what a rich crop of fabliaux, whose leading incident was the disposal of a dead body, it produced.
It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that there dwelt during times of yore, and years and ages long gone before, in a certain city of China,1 a Tailor who was an open handed man that loved pleasuring and merry making; and who was wont, he and his wife, to solace themselves from time to time with public diversions and amusements. One day they went out with the first of the light and were returning in the evening when they fell in with a Hunchback, whose semblance would draw a laugh from care and dispel the horrors of despair. So they went up to enjoy looking at him and invited him to go home with them and converse and carouse with them that night. He consented and accompanied them afoot to their home; whereupon the Tailor fared forth to the bazaar (night having just set in) and bought a fried fish and bread and lemons and dry sweetmeats for dessert; and set the victuals before the Hunchback and they ate. Presently the Tailor’s wife took a great fid of fish and gave it in a gobbet to the Gobbo, stopping his mouth with her hand and saying, “By Allah, thou must down with it at a single gulp; and I will not give thee time to chew it.” So he bolted it; but therein was a stiff bone which stuck in his gullet and, his hour being come, he died. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Other editions read, “at Bassorah” and the Bresl. (ii. 123) “at Bassorah and Kájkár” (Káshghár): somewhat like in Dover and Sebastopol. I prefer China because further off and making the improbabilities more notable.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Tailor’s wife gave the Hunchback that mouthful of fish which ended his term of days he died on the instant. Seeing this the Tailor cried aloud, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! Alas, that this poor wretch should have died in so foolish fashion at our hands!” and the woman rejoined, “Why this idle talk? Hast thou not heard his saying who said:—
Why then waste I my time in grief, until
I find no friend to bear my weight of woe
How sleep upon a fire that flames unquenched?
Upon the flames to rest were hard enow!”
Asked her husband, “And what shall I do with him?”; and she answered, “Rise and take him in thine arms and spread a silken kerchief over him; then I will fare forth, with thee following me this very night and if thou meet any one say, ‘This is my son, and his mother and I are carrying him to the doctor that he may look at him.’” So he rose and taking the Hunchback in his arms bore him along the streets, preceded by his wife who kept crying, “O my son, Allah keep thee! what part paineth thee and where hath this small-pox1 attacked thee?” So all who saw them said “’Tis a child sick of small-pox.” 2 They went along asking for the physician’s house till folk directed them to that of a leach which was a Jew. They knocked at the door, and there came down to them a black slave girl who opened and, seeing a man bearing a babe, and a woman with him, said to them, “What is the matter?” “We have a little one with us,” answered the Tailor’s wife, “and we wish to show him to the physician: so take this quarter dinar and give it to thy master and let him come down and see my son who is sore sick.” The girl went up to tell her master, whereupon the Tailor’s wife walked into the vestibule and said to her husband, “Leave the Hunchback here and let us fly for our lives.” So the Tailor carried the dead man to the top of the stairs and propped him upright against the wall and ran away, he and his wife. Meanwhile the girl went in to the Jew and said to him, “At the door are a man and a woman with a sick child and they have given me a quarter dinar for thee, that thou mayest go down and look at the little one and prescribe for it.” As soon as the Jew saw the quarter dinar he rejoiced and rose quickly in his greed of gain and went forth hurriedly in the dark; but hardly had he made a step when he stumbled on the corpse and threw it over, when it rolled to the bottom of the staircase. So he cried out to the girl to hurry up with the light, and she brought it, whereupon he went down and examining the Hunchback found that he was stone dead. So he cried out, “O for Esdras!3 O for Moses! O for Aaron! O for Joshua, son of Nun! O the Ten Commandments! I have stumbled against the sick one and he hath fallen downstairs and he is dead! How shall I get this man I have killed out of my house? O by the hoofs of the ass of Esdras!” Then he took up the body and, carrying it into the house, told his wife what had happened and she said to him, “Why dost thou sit still? If thou keep him here till day break we shall both lose our lives. Let us two carry him to the terrace roof and throw him over into the house of our neighbour, the Moslem, for if he abide there a night the dogs will come down on him from the adjoining terraces and eat him up.” Now his neighbour was a Reeve, the controller of the Sultan’s kitchen, and was wont to bring back great store of oil and fat and broken meats; but the cats and rats used to eat it, or, if the dogs scented a fat sheep’s tail they would come down from the nearest roofs and tear at it; and on this wise the beasts had already damaged much of what he brought home. So the Jew and his wife carried the Hunchback up to the roof; and, letting him down by his hands and feet through the wind-shaft4 into the Reeve’s house, propped him up against the wall and went their ways. Hardly had they done this when the Reeve, who had been passing an evening with his friends hearing a recitation of the Koran, came home and opened the door and, going up with a lighted candle, found a son of Adam standing in the corner under the ventilator. When he saw this, he said, “Wah! by Allah, very good forsooth! He who robbeth my stuff is none other than a man.” Then he turned to the Hunchback and said, “So ’tis thou that stealest the meat and the fat! I thought it was the cats and dogs, and I kill the dogs and cats of the quarter and sin against them by killing them. And all the while ’tis thou comest down from the house terrace through the wind shaft. But I will avenge myself upon thee with my own hand!” So he snatched up a heavy hammer and set upon him and smote him full on the breast and he fell down. Then he examined him and, finding that he was dead, cried out in horror, thinking that he had killed him, and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” And he feared for his life, and added “Allah curse the oil and the meat and the grease and the sheep’s tails to boot! How hath fate given this man his quietus at my hand!” Then he looked at the body and seeing it was that of a Gobbo, said, “Was it not enough for thee to be a hunchback,5 but thou must likewise be a thief and prig flesh and fat! O thou Veiler,6 deign to veil me with Thy curtain of concealment!” So he took him up on his shoulders and, going forth with him from his house about the latter end of the night, carried him to the nearest end of the bazaar, where he set him up on his feet against the wall of a shop at the head of a dark lane, and left him and went away. After a while up came a Nazarene,7 the Sultan’s broker who, much bemused with liquor, was purposing for the Hammam bath as his drunkenness whispered in his ear, “Verily the call to matins8 is nigh.” He came plodding along and staggering about till he drew near the Hunchback and squatted down to make water9 over against him; when he happened to glance around and saw a man standing against the wall. Now some person had snatched off the Christian’s turband10 in the first of the night; so when he saw the Hunchback hard by he fancied that he also meant to steal his headdress. Thereupon he clenched his fist and struck him on the neck, felling him to the ground, and called aloud to the watchman of the bazaar, and came down on the body in his drunken fury and kept on belabouring and throttling the corpse. Presently the Charley came up and, finding a Nazarene kneeling on a Moslem and frapping him, asked, “What harm hath this one done?”; and the Broker answered, “The fellow meant to snatch off my turband.” “Get up from him,” quoth the watch man. So he arose and the Charley went up to the Hunchback and finding him dead, exclaimed, “By Allah, good indeed! A Christian killing a Mahometan!” Then he seized the Broker and, tying his hands behind his back, carried him to the Governor’s house,11 and all the while the Nazarene kept saying to himself, “O Messiah! O Virgin! how came I to kill this fellow? And in what a hurry he must have been to depart this life when he died of a single blow!” Presently, as his drunkenness fled, came dolour in its stead. So the Broker and the body were kept in the Governor’s place till morning morrowed, when the Wali came out and gave order to hang the supposed murderer and commanded the executioner12 make proclamation of the sentence. Forthwith they set up a gallows under which they made the Nazarene stand and the torch bearer, who was hangman, threw the rope round his neck and passed one end through the pulley, and was about to hoist him up13 when lo! the Reeve, who was passing by, saw the Broker about to be hanged; and, making his way through the people, cried out to the executioner, “Hold! Hold! I am he who killed the Hunchback!” Asked the Governor, “What made thee kill him?”; and he answered, “I went home last night and there found this man who had come down the ventilator to steal my property; so I smote him with a hammer on the breast and he died forthright. Then I took him up and carried him to the bazaar and set him up against the wall in such a place near such a lane;” adding, “Is it not enough for me to have killed a Moslem without also killing a Christian? So hang none other but me.” When the Governor heard these words he released the Broker and said to the torch bearer, “Hang up this man on his own confession.” So he loosed the cord from the Nazarene’s neck and threw it round that of the Reeve and, making him stand under the gallows tree, was about to string him up when behold, the Jewish physician pushed through the people and shouted to the executioner, “Hold! Hold! It was I and none else killed the Hunchback! Last night I was sitting at home when a man and a woman knocked at the door carrying this Gobbo who was sick, and gave my handmaid a quarter dinar, bidding her hand me the fee and tell me to come down and see him. Whilst she was gone the man and the woman brought him into the house and, setting him on the stairs, went away; and presently I came down and not seeing him, for I was in the dark, stumbled over him and he fell to the foot of the staircase and died on the moment. Then we took him up, I and my wife, and carried him on to the top terrace; and, the house of this Reeve being next door to mine, we let the body down through the ventilator. When he came home and found the Hunchback in his house, he fancied he was a thief and struck him with a hammer, so that he fell to the ground, and our neighbour made certain that he had slain him. Now is it not enough for me to have killed one Moslem unwittingly, without burdening myself with taking the life of another Moslem wittingly?” When the Governor heard this he said to the hangman, “Set free the Reeve and hang the Jew.” Thereupon the torch bearer took him and slung the cord round his neck when behold, the Tailor pushed through the people, and shouted to the executioner, “Hold! Hold! It was I and none else killed the Hunchback; and this was the fashion thereof. I had been out a pleasuring yesterday and, coming back to supper, fell in with this Gobbo, who was drunk and drumming away and singing lustily to his tambourine. So I accosted him and carried him to my house and bought a fish, and we sat down to eat. Presently my wife took a fid of fish and, making a gobbet of it,14 crammed it into his mouth; but some of it went down the wrong way or stuck in his gullet and he died on the instant. So we lifted him up, I and my wife, and carried him to the Jew’s house where the slave girl came down and opened the door to us and I said to her, ‘Tell thy master that there are a man and a woman and a sick person for thee to see!’ I gave her a quarter dinar and she went up to tell her master; and, whilst she was gone, I carried the Hunchback to the head of the staircase and propped him up against the wall, and went off with my wife. When the Jew came down he stumbled over him and thought that he had killed him.” Then he asked the Jew, “Is this the truth?”; and the Jew answered, “Yes.” Thereupon the Tailor turned to the Governor, and said, “Leave go the Jew and hang me.” When the Governor heard the Tailor’s tale he marvelled at the matter of this Hunchback and exclaimed. “Verily this is an adventure which should be recorded in books!” Then he said to the hangman, “Let the Jew go and hang the Tailor on his own confession.” The executioner took the Tailor and put the rope around his neck and said, “I am tired of such slow work: we bring out this one and change him for that other, and no one is hanged after all!” Now the Hunchback in question was, they relate, jester to the Sultan of China who could not bear him out of his sight; so when the fellow got drunk and did not make his appearance that night or the next day till noon, the Sultan asked some of his courtiers about him and they answered, “O our lord, the Governor hath come upon him dead and hath ordered his murderer to be hanged; but, as the hangman was about to hoist him up there came a second and a third and a fourth and each one said, ‘It is I, and none else killed the Hunchback!’ and each gave a full and circumstantial account of the manner of the jester being killed.” When the King heard this he cried aloud to the Chamberlain in waiting, “Go down to the Governor and bring me all four of them.” So the Chamberlain went down at once to the place of execution, where he found the torch bearer on the point of hanging the Tailor and shouted to him, “Hold! Hold!” Then he gave the King’s command to the Governor who took the Tailor, the Jew, the Nazarene and the Reeve (the Hunchback’s body being borne on men’s shoulders) and went up with one and all of them to the King. When he came into the presence, he kissed the ground and acquainted the ruler with the whole story which it is needless to relate for, as they say, There is no avail in a thrice told tale. The Sultan hearing it marvelled and was moved to mirth and commanded the story to be written in letters of liquid gold, saying to those present, “Did ye ever hear a more wondrous tale than that of my Hunchback?” Thereupon the Nazarene broker came forward and said, “O King of the age, with thy leave I will tell thee a thing which happened to myself and which is still more wondrous and marvellous and pleasurable and delectable than the tale of the Hunchback.” Quoth the King “Tell us what thou hast to say!” So he began in these words
1 Arab. “Judri,” lit. “small stones” from the hard gravelly feeling of the pustules (Rodwell, p. 20). The disease is generally supposed to be the growth of Central Africa where it is still a plague and passed over to Arabia about the birth-time of Mohammed. Thus is usually explained the “war of the elephant” (Koran, chaps. cv.) when the Abyssinian army of Abrahah, the Christian, was destroyed by swallows (Abábíl which Major Price makes the plural of Abilah = a vesicle) which dropped upon them “stones of baked clay,” like vetches (Pilgrimage ii. 175). See for details Sale (in loco) who seems to accept the miraculous defence of the Ka’abah. For the horrors of small-pox in Central Intertropical Africa the inoculation, known also to the Badawin of Al–Hijáz and other details, readers will consult “The Lake Regions of Central Africa” (ii. 318). The Hindus “take the bull by the horns” and boldly make “Sítlá” (small-pox) a goddess, an incarnation of Bhawáni, deëss of destruction-reproduction. In China small-pox is believed to date from B.C. 1200; but the chronology of the Middle Kingdom still awaits the sceptic.
2 In Europe we should add “and all fled, especially the women.” But the fatalism inherent in the Eastern mind makes the great difference.
3 Arab. “Uzayr.” Esdras was a manner of Ripp van Winkle. He was riding over the ruins of Jerusalem when it had been destroyed by the Chaldeans and he doubted by what means Allah would restore it; whereupon he died and at the end of a hundred years he revived. He found his basket of figs and cruse of wine as they were; but of his ass only the bones remained. These were raised to life as Ezra looked on and the ass began at once to bray. Which was a lesson to Esdras. (Koran, chaps. ii.) The oath by the ass’s hoofs is to ridicule the Jew. Mohammed seems to have had an idée fixe that “the Jews say, Ezra is the son of God” (Koran ix.); it may have arisen from the heterodox Jewish belief that Ezra, when the Law was utterly lost, dictated the whole anew to the scribes of his own memory. His tomb with the huge green dome is still visited by the Jews of Baghdad.
4 Arab. “Bádhanj,” the Pers. Bád. (wind) — gír (catcher): a wooden pent-house on the terrace-roof universal in the nearer East.
5 The hunchback, in Arabia as in Southern Europe, is looked upon by the vulgar with fear and aversion. The reason is that he is usually sharper-witted than his neighbours.
6Arab. “Yá Sattár” = Thou who veilest the discreditable secrets of Thy creatures.
7 Arab. “Nasráni,” a follower of Him of Nazareth and an older name than “Christian” which (Acts xi., 26) was first given at Antioch about A.D. 43. The cry in Alexandria used to be “Ya Nasráni, Kalb awáni!”=O Nazarene! O dog obscene! (Pilgrimage i., 160).). “Christian” in Arabic can be expressed only by “Masíhi” = follower of the Messiah.
8 Arab. “Tasbíh,” = Saluting in the Subh (morning).
9 In the East women stand on minor occasions while men squat on their hunkers in a way hardly possible to an untrained European. The custom is old. Herodotus (ii., 35) says, “The women stand up when they make water, but the men sit down.” Will it be believed that Canon Rawlinson was too modest to leave this passage in his translation? The custom was perpetuated by Al–Islam because the position prevents the ejection touching the clothes and making them ceremonially impure; possibly they borrowed it from the Guebres. Dabistan, Gate xvi. says, “It is improper, whilst in an erect posture, to make water, it is therefore necessary to sit at squat and force it to some distance, repeating the Avesta mentally.”
10 This is still a popular form of the “Kinchin lay,” and as the turbands are often of fine stuff, the petite industrie pays well.
11Arab. “Wali” =Governor; the term still in use for the Governor General of a Province as opposed to the “Muháfiz,” or district-governor. In Eastern Arabia the Wali is the Civil Governor opposed to the Amir or Military Commandant. Under the Caliphate the Wali acted also as Prefect of Police (the Indian Fanjdár), who is now called “Zábit.” The older name for the latter was “Sáhib al-Shartah” (=chief of the watch) or “Mutawalli”; and it was his duty to go the rounds in person. The old “Charley,” with his lantern and cudgel, still guards the bazaars in Damascus.
12 Arab. “Al–Mashá ilí” = the bearer of a cresses (Mash’al) who was also Jack Ketch. In Anglo–India the name is given to a lower body-servant. The “Mash’al” which Lane (M. E., chaps. vi.) calls “Mesh’al” and illustrates, must not be confounded with its congener the “Sha’ilah” or link (also lamp, wick, etc.).
13 I need hardly say that the civilised “drop” is unknown to the East where men are strung up as to a yardarm. This greatly prolongs the suffering.
14 Arab. “Lukmah”; = a mouthful. It is still the fashion amongst Easterns of primitive manners to take up a handful of rice, etc., ball it and put it into a friend’s mouth honoris causâ. When the friend is a European the expression of his face is generally a study.
O King of the age, I came to this thy country with merchandise and Destiny stayed me here with you: but my place of birth was Cairo, in Egypt, where I also was brought up, for I am one of the Copts and my father was a broker before me. When I came to man’s estate he departed this life and I succeeded to his business. One day, as I was sitting in my shop, behold, there came up to me a youth as handsome as could be, wearing sumptuous raiment and riding a fine ass.1 When he saw me he saluted me, and I stood up to do him honour: then he took out a kerchief containing a sample of sesame and asked, “How much is this worth per Ardabb?”;2 whereto I answered, “An hundred dirhams.” Quoth he, “Take porters and gaugers and metesmen and come to morrow to the Khan al-Jawáli,3 by the Gate of Victory quarter where thou wilt find me.” Then he fared forth leaving with me the sample of sesame in his kerchief; and I went the round of my customers and ascertained that every Ardabb would fetch an hundred and twenty dirhams. Next day I took four metesmen and walked with them to the Khan, where I found him awaiting me. As soon as he saw me he rose and opened his magazine, when we measured the grain till the store was empty; and we found the contents fifty Ardabbs, making five thousand pieces of silver. Then said he, “Let ten dirhams on every Ardabb be thy brokerage; so take the price and keep in deposit four thousand and five hundred dirhams for me; and, when I have made an end of selling the other wares in my warehouses, I will come to thee and receive the amount.” “I will well,” replied I and kissing his hand went away, having made that day a profit of a thousand dirhams. He was absent a month, at the end of which he came to me and asked, “Where be the dirhams?” I rose and saluted him and answered to him, “Wilt thou not eat somewhat in my house?” But he refused with the remark, “Get the monies ready and I will presently return and take them.” Then he rode away. So I brought out the dirhams and sat down to await him, but he stayed away for another month, when he came back and said to me, “Where be the dirhams?” I rose and saluting him asked, “Wilt thou not eat some thing in my house?” But he again refused adding, “Get me the monies ready and I will presently return and take them.” Then he rode off. So I brought out the dirhams and sat down to await his return; but he stayed away from me a third month, and I said, “Verily this young man is liberality in incarnate form.” At the end of the month he came up, riding a mare mule and wearing a suit of sumptuous raiment; he was as the moon on the night of fullness, and he seemed as if fresh from the baths, with his cheeks rosy bright, and his brow flower white, and a mole spot like a grain of ambergris delighting the sight; even as was said of such an one by the poet:—
Full moon with sun in single mansion
In brightest sheen and fortune rose and shone,
With happy splendour changing every sprite:
Hail to what guerdons prayer with blissful! boon!
Their charms and grace have gained perfection’s height,
All hearts have conquered and all wits have won.
Laud to the Lord for works so wonder strange,
And what th’ Almighty wills His hand hath done!
When I saw him I rose to him and invoking blessings on him asked, O my lord, wilt thou not take thy monies?” “Whence the hurry?”4 quoth he, “Wait till I have made an end of my business and then I will come and take them.” Again he rode away and I said to myself, “By Allah, when he comes next time needs must I make him my guest; for I have traded with his dirhams and have gotten large gains thereby.” At the end of the year he came again, habited in a suit of clothes more sumptuous than the former; and, when I conjured him by the Evangel to alight at my house and eat of my guest food, he said, “I consent, on condition that what thou expendest on me shall be of my monies still in thy hands. I answered, “So be it,” and made him sit down whilst I got ready what was needful of meat and drink and else besides; and set the tray before him, with the invitation “Bismillah”!5 Then he drew near the tray and put out his left hand6 and ate with me; and I marvelled at his not using the right hand. When we had done eating, I poured water on his hand and gave him wherewith to wipe it. Upon this we sat down to converse after I had set before him some sweetmeats; and I said to him, “O my master, prithee relieve me by telling me why thou eatest with thy left hand? Perchance something aileth thy other hand?” When he heard my words, he repeated these verses:—
“Dear friend, ask not what burneth in my breast,
Lest thou see fiery pangs eye never saw:
Wills not my heart to harbour Salma in stead
Of Layla’s7 love, but need hath ne’er a law!”
And he put out his right arm from his sleeve and behold, the hand was cut off, a wrist without a fist. I was astounded at this but he said, “Marvel not, and think not that I ate with my left hand for conceit and insolence, but from necessity; and the cutting off my right hand was caused by an adventure of the strangest.” Asked I, “And what caused it?”; and he answered:—“Know that I am of the sons of Baghdad and my father was of notables of that city. When I came to man’s estate I heard the pilgrims and wayfarers, travellers and merchants talk of the land of Egypt and their words sank deep into my mind till my parent died, when I took a large sum of money and furnished myself for trade with stuffs of Baghdad and Mosul and, packing them up in bales, set out on my wanderings; and Allah decreed me safety till I entered this your city. Then he wept and began repeating:—
The blear eyed ’scapes the pits
Wherein the lynx eyed fall:
A word the wise man slays
And saves the natural:
The Moslem fails of food
The Kafir feasts in hall:
What art or act is man’s?
God’s will obligeth all!
Now when he had ended his verse he said, So I entered Cairo and took off my loads and stored my stuffs in the Khan “Al-Masrúr.”8 Then I gave the servant a few silvers wherewith to buy me some food and lay down to sleep awhile. When I awoke I went to the street called “Bayn al-Kasrayn”— Between the two Palaces — and presently returned and rested my night in the Khan. When it was morning I opened a bale and took out some stuff saying to myself, “I will be off and go through some of the bazaars and see the state of the market.” So I loaded the stuff on some of my slaves and fared forth till I reached the Kaysariyah or Exchange of Jaharkas;9 where the brokers who knew of my coming came to meet me. They took the stuffs and cried them for sale, but could not get the prime cost of them. I was vexed at this, however the Shaykh of the brokers said to me, “O my lord, I will tell thee how thou mayest make a profit of thy goods. Thou shouldest do as the merchants do and sell thy merchandise at credit for a fixed period, on a contract drawn up by a notary and duly witnessed; and employ a Shroff to take thy dues every Monday and Thursday. So shalt thou gain two dirhams and more, for every one; and thou shalt solace and divert thyself by seeing Cairo and the Nile.” Quoth I, “This is sound advice,” and carried the brokers to the Khan. They took my stuffs and went with them on ‘Change where I sold them well taking bonds for the value. These bonds I deposited with a Shroff, a banker, who gave me a receipt with which I returned to the Khan. Here I stayed a whole month, every morning breaking my fast with a cup of wine and making my meals on pigeon’s meat, mutton and sweetmeats, till the time came when my receipts began to fall due. So, every Monday and Thursday I used to go on ‘Change and sit in the shop of one or other of the merchants, whilst the notary and money changer went round to recover the monies from the traders, till after the time of mid afternoon prayer, when they brought me the amount, and I counted it and, sealing the bags, returned with them to the Khan. On a certain day which happened to be a Monday,10 I went to the Hammam and thence back to my Khan, and sitting in my own room11 broke my fast with a cup of wine, after which I slept a little. When I awoke I ate a chicken and, perfuming my person, repaired to the shop of a merchant hight Badr al-Din al-Bostáni, or the Gardener,12 who welcomed me; and we sat talking awhile till the bazaar should open. Presently, behold, up came a lady of stately figure wearing a head-dress of the most magnificent, perfumed with the sweetest of scents and walking with graceful swaying gait; and seeing me she raised her mantilla allowing me a glimpse of her beautiful black eyes. She saluted Badr al-Din who returned her salutation and stood up, and talked with her; and the moment I heard her speak, the love of her got hold of my heart. Presently she said to Badr al-Din, “Hast thou by thee a cut piece of stuff woven with thread of pure gold?” So he brought out to her a piece from those he had bought of me and sold it to her for one thousand two hundred dirhams; when she said, “I will take the piece home with me and send thee its price.” “That is impossible, O my lady,” the merchant replied, “for here is the owner of the stuff and I owe him a share of profit.” “Fie upon thee!” she cried, “Do I not use to take from thee entire rolls of costly stuff, and give thee a greater profit than thou expectest, and send thee the money?” “Yes,” rejoined he; “but I stand in pressing need of the price this very day.” Hereupon she took up the piece and threw it back upon his lap, saying “Out on thee! Allah confound the tribe of you which estimates none at the right value;” and she turned to go. I felt my very soul going with her; so I stood up and stayed her, saying, “I conjure thee by the Lord, O my lady, favour me by retracing thy gracious steps.” She turned back with a smile and said, “For thy sake I return,” and took a seat opposite me in the shop. Then quoth I to Badr al-Din, “What is the price they asked thee for this piece?”; and quoth he, “Eleven hundred dirhams.” I rejoined, “The odd hundred shall be thy profit: bring me a sheet of paper and I will write thee a discharge for it.” Then I wrote him a receipt in my own handwriting and gave the piece to the lady, saying, “Take it away with thee and, if thou wilt, bring me its price next bazaar day; or better still, accept it as my guest gift to thee.” “Allah requite thee with good,” answered she, “and make thee my husband and lord and master of all I have!”13 And Allah favoured her prayer. I saw the Gates of Paradise swing open before me and said, “O my lady, let this piece of stuff be now thine and another like it is ready for thee, only let me have one look at thy face.” So she raised her veil and I saw a face the sight of which bequeathed to me a thousand sighs, and my heart was so captivated by her love that I was no longer ruler of my reason. Then she let fall her face veil and taking up the piece of stuff said, “O my lord make me not desolate by thine absence!” and turned away and disappeared from my sight. I remained sitting on ‘Change till past the hour of after noon prayer, lost to the world by the love which had mastered me, and the violence of my passion compelled me to make enquiries concerning her of the merchant, who answered me, “This is a lady and a rich: she is the daughter of a certain Emir who lately died and left her a large fortune.” Then I took leave of him and returned home to the Khan where they set supper before me; but I could not eat for thinking of her and when I lay down to sleep, sleep came not near me. So I watched till morning, when I arose and donned a change of raiment and drank a cup of wine and, after breaking my fast on some slight matter, I went to the merchant’s shop where I saluted him and sat down by him. Presently up came the lady as usual, followed by a slave girl and wearing a dress more sumptuous than before; and she saluted me without noticing Badr al-Din and said in fluent graceful speech (never heard I voice softer or sweeter), “Send one with me to take the thousand and two hundred dirhams, the price of the piece.” “Why this hurry?” asked I and she answered, “May we never lose thee!”14 and handed me the money. Then I sat talking with her and presently I signed to her in dumb show, whereby she understood that I longed to enjoy her person,15 and she rose up in haste with a show of displeasure. My heart clung to her and I went forth from the bazaar and followed on her track. As I was walking suddenly a black slave girl stopped me and said, “O my master, come speak with my mistress.”16 At this I was surprised and replied, “There is none who knows me here;” but she rejoined, “0 my lord, how soon hast thou forgotten her! My lady is the same who was this day at the shop of such a merchant.” Then I went with her to the Shroff’s, where I found the lady who drew me to her side and said, “O my beloved, thine image is firmly stamped upon my fancy, and love of thee hath gotten hold of my heart: from the hour I first saw thee nor sleep nor food nor drink hath given me aught of pleasure.” I replied, “The double of that suffering is mine and my state dispenseth me from complaint.” Then said she, “O my beloved, at thy house, or at mine?” “I am a stranger here and have no place of reception save the Khan, so by thy favour it shall be at thy house.” “So be it; but this is Friday17 night and nothing can be done till tomorrow after public prayers; go to the Mosque and pray; then mount thine ass, and ask for the Habbániyah18 quarter; and, when there, look out for the mansion of Al–Nakib19 Barakát, popularly known as Abu Shámah the Syndic; for I live there: so do not delay as I shall be expecting thee.” I rejoiced with still greater joy at this; and took leave of her and returned to my Khan, where I passed a sleepless night. Hardly was I assured that morning had dawned when I rose, changed my dress, perfumed myself with essences and sweet scents and, taking fifty dinars in a kerchief, went from the Khan Masrúr to the Zuwaylah20 gate, where I mounted an ass and said to its owner, “Take me to the Habbaniyah.” So he set off with me and brought up in the twinkling of an eye at a street known as Darb al-Munkari, where I said to him, “Go in and ask for the Syndic’s mansion.” He was absent a while and then returned and said, “Alight.” “Go thou before me to the house,” quoth I, adding, “Come back with the earliest light and bring me home;” and he answered, “In Allah’s name;” whereupon I gave him a quarter dinar of gold, and he took it and went his ways. Then I knocked at the door and out came two white slave girls, both young; high-bosomed virgins, as they were moons, and said to me, “Enter, for our mistress is expecting thee and she hath not slept the night long for her delight in thee.” I passed through the vestibule into a saloon with seven doors, floored with parti-coloured marbles and furnished with curtains and hangings of coloured silks: the ceiling was cloisonné with gold and corniced with inscriptions21 emblazoned in lapis lazuli; and the walls were stuccoed with Sultání gypsum22 which mirrored the beholder’s face. Around the saloon were latticed windows overlooking a garden full of all manner of fruits; whose streams were railing and riffling and whose birds were trilling and shrilling; and in the heart of the hall was a jetting fountain at whose corners stood birds fashioned in red gold crusted with pearls and gems and spouting water crystal clear. When I entered and took a seat. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 I need hardly note that this is an old Biblical practice. The ass is used for city-work as the horse for fighting and travelling, the mule for burdens and the dromedary for the desert. But the Badawi, like the Indian, despises the monture and sings:—
The back of the steed is a noble place
But the mule’s dishonour, the ass disgrace!
The fine white asses, often thirteen hands high, sold by the Banu Salíb and other Badawi tribes, will fetch £100, and more. I rode a little brute from Meccah to Jedda (42 miles) in one night and it came in with me cantering.
2 A dry measure of about five bushels (Cairo). The classical pronunciation is Irdabb and it measured 24 sa’a (gallons) each filling four outstretched hands.
3 “Al–Jawáli” should be Al-Jáwali (Al–Makrizi) and the Bab al-Nasr (Gate of Victory) is that leading to Suez. I lived in that quarter as shown by my Pilgrimage (i. 62).
4 Arab. “Al-‘ajalah,” referring to a saying in every Moslem mouth, “Patience is from the Protector (Allah): Hurry is from Hell.” That and “Inshallah bukra!” (Please God tomorrow.) are the traveller’s bêtes noires.
5 Here it is a polite equivalent for “fall to!”
6 The left hand is used throughout the East for purposes of ablution and is considered unclean. To offer the left hand would be most insulting and no man ever strokes his beard with it or eats with it: hence, probably, one never sees a left handed man throughout the Moslem east. In the Brazil for the same reason old-fashioned people will not take snuff with the right hand. And it is related of the Khataians that they prefer the left hand, “Because the heart, which is the Sultan of the city of the Body, hath his mansion on that side” (Rauzat al-Safá).
7 Two feminine names as we might say Mary and Martha.
8 It was near the Caliph’s two Palaces (Al Kasrayn); and was famous in the 15th century A. D. The Kazi’s Mahkamah (Court house) now occupies the place of the Two Palaces
9 A Kaysariah is a superior kind of bazaar, a “bezestein.” That in the text stood to the east of the principal street in Cairo and was built in A. H. 502 (=1108–9) by a Circassian Emir, known as Fakhr al-Din Jahárkas, a corruption of the Persian “Chehárkas” = four persons (Lane, i. 422, from Al–Makrizi and Ibn Khallikan). For Jahárkas the Mac. Edit. has Jirjís (George) a common Christian name. I once lodged in a ‘Wakálah (the modern Khan) Jirjis.” Pilgrimage, i. 255.
10Arab. “Second Day,” i.e. after Saturday, the true Sabbath, so marvellously ignored by Christendom.
11 Readers who wish to know how a traveller is lodged in a Wakálah, Khan, or Caravanserai, will consult my Pilgrimage, i. 60.
12 The original occupation of the family had given it a name, as amongst us.
13 The usual “chaff” or banter allowed even to modest women when shopping, and — many a true word is spoken in jest.
14 “La adamnák” = Heaven deprive us not of thee, i.e. grant I see thee often!
15 This is a somewhat cavalier style of advance; but Easterns under such circumstances go straight to the point, hating to filer the parfait amour.
16 The peremptory formula of a slave delivering such a message.
17 This would be our Thursday night, preceding the day of public prayers which can be performed only when in a state of ceremonial purity. Hence many Moslems go to the Hammam on Thursday and have no connection with their wives.
18 Lane (i. 423) gives ample details concerning the Habbániyah, or grain-sellers’ quarter in the southern part of Cairo; and shows that when this tale was written (or transcribed?) the city was almost as extensive as it is now.
19 Nakíb is a caravan-leader, a chief, a syndic; and “Abú Shámah”= Father of a cheek mole, while “Abú Shámmah” = Father of a smeller, a nose, a snout. The “Kuniyah,” bye-name, patronymic or matronymic, is necessary amongst Moslems whose list of names, all connected more or less with religion, is so scanty. Hence Buckingham the traveller was known as Abu Kidr, the Father of a Cooking-pot and Haj Abdullah as Abu Shawárib, Father of Mustachios (Pilgrimage, iii., 263).
20 More correctly Bab Zawilah from the name of a tribe in Northern Africa. This gate dates from the same age as the Eastern or Desert gate, Bab al-Nasr (A.D. 1087) and is still much admired. M. Jomard describes it (Description, etc., ii. 670) and lately my good friend Yacoub Artin Pasha has drawn attention to it in the Bulletin de l’Inst. Egypt., Deuxième Série, No. 4, 1883.
21 This ornament is still seen in the older saloons of Damascus: the inscriptions are usually religious sentences, extracts from the Koran, etc., in uncial characters. They take the place of our frescos; and, as a work of art, are generally far superior.
22 Arab. “Bayáz al-Sultání,” the best kind of gypsum which shines like polished marble. The stucco on the walls of Alexandria, built by Alexander of the two Horns, was so exquisitely tempered and beautifully polished that men had to wear masks for fear of blindness.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued, When I entered and took a seat, the lady at once came in crowned with a diadem1 of pearls and jewels; her face dotted with artificial moles in indigo,2 her eyebrows pencilled with Kohl and her hands and feet reddened with Henna. When she saw me she smiled in my face and took me to her embrace and clasped me to her breast; then she put her mouth to my mouth and sucked my tongue3 (and I did likewise) and said, “Can it be true, O my little darkling, thou art come to me?” adding, “Welcome and good cheer to thee! By Allah, from the day I saw thee sleep hath not been sweet to me nor hath food been pleasant.” Quoth I, “Such hath also been my case: and I am thy slave, thy negro slave.” Then we sat down to converse and I hung my head earthwards in bashfulness, but she delayed not long ere she set before me a tray of the most exquisite viands, marinated meats, fritters soaked in bee’s4 honeys and chickens stuffed with sugar and pistachio nuts, whereof we ate till we were satisfied. Then they brought basin and ewer and I washed my hands and we scented ourselves with rose water musk’d and sat down again to converse. So she began repeating these couplets5:
“Had we wist of thy coming, thy way had been strewn
With the blood of our heart and the balls of our sight:
Our cheek as a foot cloth to greet thee been thrown,
That thy step on our eyelids should softly alight.”
And she kept plaining of what had befallen her and I of what had betided me; and love of her got so firm hold of my heart that all my wealth seemed a thing of naught in comparison with her. Then we fell to toying and groping and kissing till night fall, when the handmaidens set before us meats and a complete wine service, and we sat carousing till the noon of night, when we lay down and I lay with her; never in my life saw I a night like that night. When morning morrowed I arose and took leave of her, throwing under the carpet bed the kerchief wherein were the dinars6 and as I went out she wept and said, “O my lord, when shall I look upon that lovely face again?” “I will be with thee at sunset,” answered I, and going out found the donkey boy, who had brought me the day before, awaiting at the door. So I mounted ass and rode to the Khan of Masrur where I alighted and gave the man a half dinar, saying, “Return at sunset;” and he said “I will.” Then I breakfasted and went out to seek the price of my stuffs; after which I returned, and taking a roast lamb and some sweetmeats, called a porter and put the provision in his crate, and sent it to the lady paying the man his hire.7 I went back to my business till sunset, when the ass driver came to me and I took fifty dinars in a kerchief and rode to her house where I found the marble floor swept, the brasses burnisht, the branch lights burning, the wax candles ready lighted, the meat served up and the wine strained.8 When my lady saw me she threw her arms about my neck, and cried, “Thou hast desolated me by thine absence.” Then she set the tables before me and we ate till we were satisfied, when the slave girls carried off the trays and served up wine. We gave not over drinking till half the night was past; and, being well warmed with drink, we went to the sleeping chamber and lay there till morning. I then arose and fared forth from her leaving the fifty dinars with her as before; and, finding the donkey boy at the door, rode to the Khan and slept awhile. After that I went out to make ready the evening meal and took a brace of geese with gravy on two platters of dressed and peppered rice, and got ready colocasia9-roots fried and soaked in honey, and wax candles and fruits and conserves and nuts and almonds and sweet scented cowers; and I sent them all to her. As soon as it was night I again tied up fifty dinars in a kerchief and, mounting the ass as usual, rode to the mansion where we ate and drank and lay together till morning when I threw the kerchief and dinars to her10 and rode back to the Khan. I ceased not doing after that fashion till, after a sweet night, I woke one fine morning and found myself beggared, dinar-less and dirhamless. So said I to myself “All this be Satan’s work;” and began to recite these couplets:—
“Poverty dims the sheen of man whate’er his wealth has been,
E’en as the sun about to set shines with a yellowing light
Absent he falls from memory, forgotten by his friends;
Present he shareth not their joys for none in him delight
He walks the market shunned of all, too glad to hide his head,
In desert places tears he sheds and moans his bitter plight
By Allah, ’mid his kith and kin a man, however good,
Waylaid by want and penury is but a stranger wight!”
I fared forth from the Khan and walked down “Between the Palaces” street till I came to the Zuwaylah Porte, where I found the people crowding and the gateway blocked for the much folk. And by the decree of Destiny I saw there a trooper against whom I pressed unintentionally, so that my hand came upon his bosom pocket and I felt a purse inside it. I looked and seeing a string of green silk hanging from the pocket knew it for a purse; and the crush grew greater every minute and just then, a camel laden with a load of fuel happened to jostle the trooper on the opposite side, and he turned round to fend it off from him, lest it tear his clothes; and Satan tempted me, so I pulled the string and drew out a little bag of blue silk, containing something which chinked like coin. But the soldier, feeling his pocket suddenly lightened, put his hand to it and found it empty; whereupon he turned to me and, snatching up his mace from his saddle bow, struck me with it on the head. I fell to the ground, whilst the people came round us and seizing the trooper’s mare by the bridle said to him, “Strikest thou this youth such a blow as this for a mere push!” But the trooper cried out at them, “This fellow is an accursed thief!” Whereupon I came to myself and stood up, and the people looked at me and said, “Nay, he is a comely youth: he would not steal anything;” and some of them took my part and others were against me and question and answer waxed loud and warm. The people pulled at me and would have rescued me from his clutches; but as fate decreed behold, the Governor, the Chief of Police, and the watch11 entered the Zuwaylah Gate at this moment and, seeing the people gathered together around me and the soldier, the Governor asked, “What is the matter?” “By Allah! O Emir,” answered the trooper, “this is a thief! I had in my pocket a purse of blue silk lined with twenty good gold pieces and he took it, whilst I was in the crush.” Quoth the Governor, “Was any one by thee at the time?”; and quoth the soldier, “No.” Thereupon the Governor cried out to the Chief of Police who seized me, and on this wise the curtain of the Lord’s. protection was withdrawn from me. Then he said “Strip him;” and, when they stripped me, they found the purse in my clothes. The Wali took it, opened it and counted it; and, finding in it twenty dinars as the soldier had said, waxed exceeding wroth and bade his guard bring me before him. Then said he to me, “Now, O youth, speak truly: didst thou steal this purse?”12 At this I hung my head to the ground and said to myself, “If I deny having stolen it, I shall get myself into terrible trouble.” So I raised my head and said, “Yes, I took it.” When the Governor heard these words he wondered and summoned witnesses who came forward and attested my confession. All this happened at the Zuwaylah Gate. Then the Governor ordered the link bearer to cut off my right hand, and he did so; after which he would have struck off my left foot also; but the heart of the soldier softened and he took pity on me and interceded for me with the Governor that I should not be slain.13 Thereupon the Wali left me, and went away and the folk remained round me and gave me a cup of wine to drink. As for the trooper he pressed the purse upon me, and said, “Thou art a comely youth and it befitteth not thou be a thief.” So I repeated these verses:—
“I swear by Allah’s name, fair sir! no thief was I,
Nor, O thou best of men! was I a bandit bred:
But Fortune’s change and chance o’erthrew me suddenly,
And cark and care and penury my course misled:
I shot it not, indeed, ’twas Allah shot the shaft
That rolled in dust the Kingly diadem from my head.”14
The soldier turned away after giving me the purse; and I also went my ways having wrapped my hand in a piece of rag and thrust it into my bosom. My whole semblance had changed, and my colour had waxed yellow from the shame and pain which had befallen me. Yet I went on to my mistress’s house where, in extreme perturbation of spirit I threw myself down on the carpet bed. She saw me in this state and asked me, “What aileth thee and why do I see thee so changed in looks?”; and I answered, “My head paineth me and I am far from well.” Whereupon she was vexed and was concerned on my account and said, “Burn not my heart, O my lord, but sit up and raise thy head and recount to me what hath happened to thee today, for thy face tells me a tale.” “Leave this talk,” replied I. But she wept and said, “Me seems thou art tired of me, for I see thee contrary to thy wont.” But I was silent; and she kept on talking to me albeit I gave her no answer, till night came on. Then she set food before me, but I refused it fearing lest she see me eating with my left hand and said to her, “I have no stomach to eat at present.” Quoth she, “Tell me what hath befallen thee to day, and why art thou so sorrowful and broken in spirit and heart?” Quoth I, “Wait awhile; I will tell thee all at my leisure.” Then she brought me wine, saying, “Down with it, this will dispel thy grief: thou must indeed drink and tell me of thy tidings.” I asked her, “Perforce must I tell thee?”; and she answered, “Yes.” Then said I, “If it needs must be so, then give me to drink with thine own hand.” She filled and drank,15 and filled again and gave me the cup which I took from her with my left hand and wiped the tears from my eyelids and began repeating:
“When Allah willeth aught befall a man
Who hath of ears and eyes and wits full share:
His ears He deafens and his eyes He blinds
And draws his wits e’en as we draw a hair16
Till, having wrought His purpose, He restores
Man’s wits, that warned more circumspect he fare.”
When I ended my verses I wept, and she cried out with an exceeding loud cry, “What is the cause of thy tears? Thou burnest my heart! What makes thee take the cup with thy left hand?” Quoth I, “Truly I have on my right hand a boil;” and quoth she, “Put it out and I will open it for thee.”17 “It is not yet time to open it,” I replied, “so worry me not with thy words, for I will not take it out of the bandage at this hour.” Then I drank off the cup, and she gave not over plying me with drink until drunkenness overcame me and I fell asleep in the place where I was sitting; whereupon she looked at my right hand and saw a wrist without a fist. So she searched me closely and found with me the purse of gold and my severed hand wrapped up in the bit of rag.18 With this such sorrow came upon her as never overcame any and she ceased not lamenting on my account till the morning. When I awoke I found that she had dressed me a dish of broth of four boiled chickens, which she brought to me together with a cup of wine. I ate and drank and laying down the purse, would have gone out; but she said to me, “Whither away?”; and I answered, “Where my business calleth me;” and said she, “Thou shalt not go: sit thee down.” So I sat down and she resumed, “Hath thy love for me so overpowered thee that thou hast wasted all thy wealth and hast lost thine hand on my account? I take thee to witness against me and also Allah be my witness that I will never part with thee, but will die under thy feet; and soon thou shalt see that my words are true.” Then she sent for the Kazi and witnesses and said to them, “Write my contract of marriage with this young man, and bear ye witness that I have received the marriage settlement.”19 When they had drawn up the document she said, “Be witness that all my monies which are in this chest and all I have in slaves and handmaidens and other property is given in free gift to this young man.” So they took act of this statement enabling me to assume possession in right of marriage; and then withdrew, after receiving their fees. Thereupon she took me by the hand and, leading me to a closet, opened a large chest and said to me, “See what is herein;” and I looked and behold, it was full of kerchiefs. Quoth she, “This is the money I had from thee and every kerchief thou gavest me, containing fifty dinars, I wrapped up and cast into this chest; so now take thine own, for it returns to thee, and this day thou art become of high estate. Fortune and Fate afflicted thee so that thou didst lose thy right hand for my sake; and I can never requite thee; nay, although I gave my life ’twere but little and I should still remain thy debtor.” Then she added, “Take charge of thy property.”; so I transferred the contents of her chest to my chest, and added my wealth to her wealth which I had given her, and my heart was eased and my sorrow ceased. I stood up and kissed her and thanked her; and she said, “Thou hast given thy hand for love of me and how am I able to give thee an equivalent? By Allah, if I offered my life for thy love, it were indeed but little and would not do justice to thy claim upon me.” Then she made over to me by deed all that she possessed in clothes and ornaments of gold and pearls, and goods and farms and chattels, and lay not down to sleep that night, being sorely grieved for my grief, till I told her the whole of what had befallen me. I passed the night with her. But before we had lived together a month’s time she fell sorely sick and illness increased upon her, by reason of her grief for the loss of my hand, and she endured but fifty days before she was numbered among the folk of futurity and heirs of immortality. So I laid her out and buried her body in mother earth and let make a pious perfection of the Koran20 for the health of her soul, and gave much money in alms for her; after which I turned me from the grave and returned to the house. There I found that she had left much substance in ready money and slaves, mansions, lands and domains, and among her store houses was a granary of sesame seed, whereof I sold part to thee; and I had neither time nor inclination to take count with thee till I had sold the rest of the stock in store; nor, indeed, even now have I made an end of receiving the price. So I desire thou baulk me not in what I am about to say to thee: twice have I eaten of thy food and I wish to give thee as a present the monies for the sesame which are by thee. Such is the cause of the cutting off my right hand and my eating with my left.” “Indeed,” said I, “thou hast shown me the utmost kindness and liberality.” Then he asked me, “Why shouldst thou not travel with me to my native country whither I am about to return with Cairene and Alexandrian stuffs? Say me, wilt thou accompany me?”; and I answered “I will.” So I agreed to go with him at the head of the month, and I sold all I had and bought other merchandise; then we set out and travelled, I and the young man, to this country of yours, where he sold his venture and bought other investment of country stuffs and continued his journey to Egypt But it was my lot to abide here, so that these things befell me in my strangerhood which befell last night, and is not this tale, O King of the age, more wondrous and marvellous than the story of the Hunchback? “Not so,” quoth the King, “I cannot accept it: there is no help for it but that you be hanged, every one of you.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This Iklíl, a complicated affair, is now obsolete, its place having been taken by the “Kurs,” a gold plate, some five inches in diameter, set with jewels, etc. Lane (M. E. Appendix A) figures it.
2 The woman-artist who applies the dye is called “Munakkishah.”
3 “Kissing with th’ inner lip,” as Shakespeare calls it; the French langue fourrée: and Sanskrit “Samputa.” The subject of kissing is extensive in the East. Ten different varieties are duly enumerated in the “Ananga–Ranga;” or, The Hindu Art of Love (Ars Amoris Indica) translated from the Sanskrit, and annotated by A. F. F. and B. F. R It is also connected with unguiculation, or impressing the nails, of which there are seven kinds; morsication (seven kinds); handling the hair and lappings or pattings with the fingers and palm (eight kinds).
4 Arab. “asal-nahl,” to distinguish it from “honey” i.e. syrup of sugar-cane and fruits
5 The lines have occurred in Night xii. By way of variety I give Torrens’ version p. 273.
6 The way of carrying money in the corner of a pocket-handkerchief is still common.
7 He sent the provisions not to be under an obligation to her in this matter. And she received them to judge thereby of his liberality
8 Those who have seen the process of wine-making in the Libanus will readily understand why it is always strained.
9 Arab. “Kulkasá,” a kind of arum or yam, eaten boiled like our potatoes.
10At first he slipped the money into the bed-clothes: now he gives it openly and she accepts it for a reason.
11 Arab. Al–Zalamah lit. = tyrants, oppressors, applied to the police and generally to employés of Government. It is a word which tells a history.
12 Moslem law is never completely satisfied till the criminal confess. It also utterly ignores circumstantial evidence and for the best of reasons: amongst so sharp-witted a people the admission would lead to endless abuses. I greatly surprised a certain Governor–General of India by giving him this simple information
13 Cutting off the right hand is the Koranic punishment (chaps. v.) for one who robs an article worth four dinars, about forty francs to shillings. The left foot is to be cut off at the ankle for a second offence and so on; but death is reserved for a hardened criminal. The practice is now obsolete and theft is punished by the bastinado, fine or imprisonment. The old Guebres were as severe. For stealing one dirham’s worth they took a fine of two, cut off the ear-lobes, gave ten stick-blows and dismissed the criminal who had been subjected to an hour’s imprisonment. A second theft caused the penalties to be doubled; and after that the right hand was cut off or death was inflicted according to the proportion stolen.
14 Koran viii. 17.
15 A universal custom in the East, the object being originally to show that the draught was not poisoned.
16 Out of paste or pudding.
17 Boils and pimples are supposed to be caused by broken hair-roots and in Hindostani are called Bál-tor.
18 He intended to bury it decently, a respect which Moslems always show even to the exuviæ of the body, as hair and nail parings. Amongst Guebres the latter were collected and carried to some mountain. The practice was intensified by fear of demons or wizards getting possession of the spoils.
19 Without which the marriage was not valid. The minimum is ten dirhams (drachmas) now valued at about five francs to shillings; and if a man marry without naming the sum, the woman, after consummation, can compel him to pay this minimum.
20 Arab. “Khatmah” = reading or reciting the whole Koran, by one or more persons, usually in the house, not over the tomb. Like the “Zikr,” Litany or Rogation, it is a pious act confined to certain occasions.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King of China declared “There is no help for it but that you be hanged,” the Reeve of the Sultan’s Kitchen came forward and said, “If thou permit me I will tell thee a tale of what befell me just before I found this Gobbo, and, if it be more wondrous than his story, do thou grant us our lives.” And when the King answered “Yes” he began to recount
Know, O King, that last night I was at a party where they made a perfection of the Koran and got together doctors of law and religion skilled in recitation and intoning; and, when the readers ended, the table was spread and amongst other things they set before us was a marinated ragout1 flavoured with cumin seed. So we sat down, but one of our number held back and refused to touch it. We conjured him to eat of it but he swore he would not; and, when we again pressed him, he said, “Be not instant with me; sufficeth me that which hath already befallen me through eating it”, and he began reciting:
“Shoulder thy tray and go straight to thy goal;
And, if suit thee this Kohl why,-use this Kohl!”2
When he ended his verse we said to him, “Allah upon thee, tell us thy reason for refusing to eat of the cumin ragout?” ‘‘If so it be,” he replied, “and needs must I eat of it, I will not do so except I wash my hand forty times with soap, forty times with potash and forty times with galangale,3 the total being one hundred and twenty washings.” Thereupon the hospitable host bade his slaves bring water and whatso he required; and the young man washed his hand as afore mentioned. Then he sat down, as if disgusted and frightened withal, and dipping his hand in the ragout, began eating and at the same time showing signs of anger. And we wondered at him with extreme wonderment, for his hand trembled and the morsel in it shook and we saw that his thumb had been cut off and he ate with his four fingers only. So we said to him, “Allah upon thee, what happened to thy thumb? Is thy hand thus by the creation of God or hath some accident befallen it?” “O my brothers,” he answered, “it is not only thus with this thumb, but also with my other thumb and with both my great toes, as you shall see.” So saying he uncovered his left hand and his feet, and we saw that the left hand was even as the right and in like manner that each of his feet lacked its great toe. When we saw him after this fashion, our amazement waxed still greater and we said to him, “We have hardly patience enough to await thy history and to hear the manner of the cutting off of thy thumbs, and the reason of thy washing both hands one hundred and twenty times.” Know then, said he, that my father was chief of the merchants and the wealthiest of them all in Baghdad city during the reign of the Caliph Harun al Rashid; and he was much given to wine drinking and listening to the lute and the other instruments of pleasaunce; so that when he died he left nothing. I buried him and had perlections of the Koran made for him, and mourned for him days and nights: then I opened his shop and found that he had left in it few goods, while his debts were many. However I compounded with his creditors for time to settle their demands and betook myself to buying and selling, paying them something from week to week on account; and I gave not over doing this till I had cleared off his obligations in full and began adding to my principal. One day, as I sat in my shop, suddenly and unexpectedly there appeared before me a young lady, than whom I never saw a fairer, wearing the richest raiment and ornaments and riding a she mule, with one negro slave walking before her and another behind her. She drew rein at the head of the exchange bazaar and entered followed by an eunuch who said to her, “O my lady come out and away without telling anyone, lest thou light a fire which will burn us all up.” Moreover he stood before her guarding her from view whilst she looked at the merchants’ shops. She found none open but mine; so she came up with the eunuch behind her and sitting down in my shop saluted me; never heard I aught fairer than her speech or sweeter than her voice. Then she unveiled her face, and I saw that she was like the moon and I stole a glance at her whose sight caused me a thousand sighs, and my heart was captivated with love of her, and I kept looking again and again upon her face repeating these verses:—
“Say to the charmer in the dove hued veil,
Death would be welcome to abate thy bale!
Favour me with thy favours that I live:
See, I stretch forth my palm to take thy vail!
When she heard my verse she answered me saying:—
“I’ve lost all patience by despite of you;
My heart knows nothing save love plight to you!
If aught I sight save charms so bright of you;
My parting end not in the sight of you!
I swear I’ll ne’er forget the right of you;
And fain this breast would soar to height of you:
You made me drain the love cup, and I lief
A love cup tender for delight of you:
Take this my form where’er you go, and when
You die, entomb me in the site of you:
Call on me in my grave, and hear my bones
Sigh their responses to the shright of you:
And were I asked ‘Of God what wouldst thou see?’
I answer, ‘first His will then Thy decree!’
When she ended her verse she asked me, “O youth, hast thou any fair stuffs by thee?”; and I answered, “O my lady, thy slave is poor; but have patience till the merchants open their shops, and I will suit thee with what thou wilt.” Then we sat talking, I and she (and I was drowned in the sea of her love, dazed in the desert4 of my passion for her), till the merchants opened their shops; when I rose and fetched her all she sought to the tune of five thousand dirhams. She gave the stuff to the eunuch and, going forth by the door of the Exchange, she mounted mule and went away, without telling me whence she came, and I was ashamed to speak of such trifle. When the merchants dunned me for the price, I made myself answerable for five thousand dirhams and went home, drunken with the love of her. They set supper before me and I ate a mouthful, thinking only of her beauty and loveliness, and sought to sleep, but sleep came not to me. And such was my condition for a whole week, when the merchants required their monies of me, but I persuaded them to have patience for another week, at the end of which time she again appeared mounted on a she mule and attended by her eunuch and two slaves. She saluted me and said, “O my master, we have been long in bringing thee the price of the stuffs; but now fetch the Shroff and take thy monies.” So I sent for the money changer and the eunuch counted out the coin before him and made it over to me. Then we sat talking, I and she, till the market opened, when she said to me, “Get me this and that.” So I got her from the merchants whatso she wanted, and she took it and went away without saying a word to me about the price. As soon as she was out of sight, I repented me of what I had done; for the worth of the stuffs bought for her amounted to a thousand dinars, and I said in my soul, “What manner of love is this? She hath brought me five thousand dirhams, and hath taken goods for a thousand dinars.”5 I feared lest I should be beggared through having to pay the merchants their money, and I said, “They know none other but me; this lovely lady is naught but a cheat and a swindler, who hath diddled me with her beauty and grace; for she saw that I was a mere youth and laughed at me for not asking her address.” I ceased not to be troubled by these doubts and fears, as she was absent more than a month, till the merchants pestered me for their money and were so hard upon me that I put up my property for sale and stood on the very brink of ruin. However, as I was sitting in my shop one day, drowned in melancholy musings, she suddenly rode up and, dismounting at the bazaar gate, came straight towards me. When I saw her all my cares fell from me and I forgot every trouble. She came close up to me and greeted me with her sweet voice and pleasant speech and presently said, “Fetch me the Shroff and weigh thy money.”6 So she gave me the price of what goods I had gotten for her and more, and fell to talking freely with me, till I was like to die of joy and delight Presently she asked me, “Hast thou a wife?”; and I answered “No, indeed: I have never known woman”; and began to shed tears. Quoth she “Why weepest thou?” Quoth I “It is nothing!” Then giving the eunuch some of the gold pieces, I begged him to be go between7 in the matter; but he laughed and said, “She is more in love with thee than thou with her: she hath no occasion for the stuffs she hath bought of thee and did all this only for the love of thee; so ask of her what thou wilt and she will deny thee nothing.” When she saw me giving the dinars to the eunuch, she returned and sat down again; and I said to her, “Be charitable to thy slave and pardon him what he is about to say.” Then I told her what was in my mind and she assented and said to the eunuch, “Thou shalt carry my message to him,” adding to me, “And do thou whatso the eunuch biddeth thee.” Then she got up and went away, and I paid the merchants their monies and they all profited; but as for me, regret at the breaking off of our intercourse was all my gain; and I slept not the whole of that night. However, before many days passed her eunuch came to me, and I entreated him honourably and asked him after his mistress. “Truly she is sick with love of thee,” he replied and I rejoined, “Tell me who and what she is.” Quoth he, “The Lady Zubaydah, queen consort of Harun al-Rashid, brought her up as a rearling8 and hath advanced her to be stewardess of the Harim, and gave her the right of going in and out of her own sweet will. She spoke to her lady of thee and begged her to marry her to thee; but she said, ‘I will not do this, till I see the young man; and, if he be worthy of thee, I will marry thee to him.’ So now we look for the moment to smuggle thee into the Palace and if thou succeed in entering privily thou wilt win thy wish to wed her; but if the affair get wind, the Lady Zubaydah will strike off thy head.9 What sayest thou to this?” I answered, “I will go with thee and abide the risk whereof thou speakest.” Then said he, “As soon as it is night, go to the Mosque built by the Lady Zubaydah on the Tigris and pray the night prayers and sleep there.” “With love and gladness,” cried I. So at nightfall I repaired to the Mosque, where I prayed and passed the night. With earliest dawn, behold, came sundry eunuchs in a skiff with a number of empty chests which they deposited in the Mosque; then all of them went their ways but one, and looking curiously at him, I saw he was our go between. Presently in came the handmaiden, my mistress, walking straight up to us; and I rose to her and embraced her while she kissed me and shed tears.10 We talked awhile; after which she made me get into one of the chests which she locked upon me. Presently the other eunuchs came back with a quantity of packages and she fell to stowing them in the chests, which she locked down, one by one, till all were shut. When all was done the eunuchs embarked the chests in the boat and made for the Lady Zubaydah’s palace. With this, thought began to beset me and I said to myself, “Verily thy lust and wantonness will be the death of thee; and the question is after all shalt thou win to thy wish or not?” And I began to weep, boxed up as I was in the box and suffering from cramp; and I prayed Allah that He deliver me from the dangerous strait I was in, whilst the boat gave not over going on till it reached the Palace gate where they lifted out the chests and amongst them that in which I was. Then they carried them in, passing through a troop of eunuchs, guardians of the Harim and of the ladies behind the curtain, till they came to the post of the Eunuch in Chief11 who started up from his slumbers and shouted to the damsel “What is in those chests?” “They are full of wares for the Lady Zubaydah!” “Open them, one by one, that I may see what is in them.” “And wherefore wouldst thou open them?” “Give me no words and exceed not in talk! These chests must and shall be opened.” So saying, he sprang to his feet, and the first which they brought to him to open was that wherein I was; and, when I felt his hands upon it, my senses failed me and I bepissed myself in my funk, the water running out of the box. Then said she to the Eunuch in Chief, “O steward! thou wilt cause me to be killed and thyself too, for thou hast damaged goods worth ten thousand dinars. This chest contains coloured dresses, and four gallon flasks of Zemzem water;12 and now one of them hath got unstoppered and the water is running out over the clothes and it will spoil their colours.” The eunuch answered, “Take up thy boxes and get thee gone to the curse of God!” So the slaves carried off all the chests, including mine; and hastened on with them till suddenly I heard the voice of one saying, “Alack, and alack! the Caliph! the Caliph!” When that cry struck mine ears I died in my skin and said a saying which never yet shamed the sayer, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! I and only I have brought this calamity upon myself.” Presently I heard the Caliph say to my mistress, “A plague on thee, what is in those boxes?”; and she answered, “Dresses for the Lady Zubaydah”;13 whereupon he, “Open them before me!” When I heard this I died my death outright and said to myself, “By Allah, today is the very last of my days in this world: if I come safe out of this I am to marry her and no more words, but detection stares me in the face and my head is as good as stricken off.” Then I repeated the profession of Faith, saying, “There is no god but the God, and Mohammed is the Apostle of God!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zirbájah” = meat dressed with vinegar, cumin-seed (Pers. Zír) and hot spices. More of it in the sequel of the tale.
2 A saying not uncommon meaning, let each man do as he seems fit; also = “age quad agis”: and at times corresponding with our saw about the cap fitting.
3 Arab. “Su’úd,” an Alpinia with pungent rhizome like ginger; here used as a counter-odour.
4 Arab. “Tá‘ih” = lost in the “Tíh,” a desert wherein man may lose himself, translated in our maps ‘The Desert of the Wanderings,” scil. of the children of Israel. “Credat Judæus.”
5 i e. £125 and £500.
6 A large sum was weighed by a professional instead of being counted, the reason being that the coin is mostly old and worn: hence our words “pound” and “pension” (or what is weighed out).
7 The eunuch is the best possible go-between on account of his almost unlimited power over the Harem.
8 i.e., a slave-girl brought up in the house and never sold except for some especial reason, as habitual drunkenness, etc.
9 Smuggling men into the Harem is a stock “topic” of eastern tales. “By means of their female attendants, the ladies of the royal harem generally get men into their apartments in the disguise of women,” says Vatsyayana in The Kama Sutra, Part V. London: Printed for the Hindoo Kamashastra Society. 1883. For private circulation.
10 These tears are shed over past separation. So the “Indians” of the New World never meet after long parting without beweeping mutual friends they have lost.
11 A most important Jack in office whom one can see with his smooth chin and blubber lips, starting up from his lazy snooze in the shade and delivering his orders more peremptorily than any Dogberry. These epicenes are as curious and exceptional in character as in external conformation. Disconnected, after a fashion, with humanity, they are brave, fierce and capable of any villainy or barbarity (as Agha Mohammed Khan in Persia 1795–98). The frame is unnaturally long and lean, especially the arms and legs; with high, flat, thin shoulders, big protruding joints and a face by contrast extraordinarily large, a veritable mask; the Castrato is expert in the use of weapons and sits his horse admirably, riding well “home” in the saddle for the best of reasons; and his hoarse, thick voice, which apparently does not break, as in the European “Cáppone,” invests him with all the circumstance of command.
12 From the Meccan well used by Moslems much like Eau de Lourdes by Christians: the water is saltish, hence the touch of Arab humour (Pilgrimage iii., 201–202).
13 Such articles would be sacred from Moslem eyes.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued as follows: Now when I testified, “I bear witness that there is no god save the God,” I heard my mistress the handmaid declare to the Caliph, “These chests, O Commander of the Faithful, have been committed to my charge by the Lady Zubaydah, and she doth not wish their contents to be seen by any one.” “No matter!” quoth the Caliph, “needs must they be opened, I will see what is in them”; and he cried aloud to the eunuchs, “Bring the chests here before me.” At this I made sure of death (without benefit of a doubt) and swooned away. Then the eunuchs brought the chests up to him one after another and he fell to inspecting the contents, but he saw in them only otters and stuffs and fine dresses; and they ceased not opening the chests and he ceased not looking to see what was in them, finding only clothes and such matters, till none remained unopened but the box in which I was boxed. They put forth their hands to open it, but my mistress the handmaid made haste and said to the Caliph, “This one thou shalt see only in the presence of the Lady Zubaydah, for that which is in it is her secret.” When he heard this he gave orders to carry in the chests; so they took up that wherein I was and bore it with the rest into the Harim and set it down in the midst of the saloon; and indeed my spittle was dried up for very fear.1 Then my mistress opened the box and took me out, saying, “Fear not: no harm shall betide thee now nor dread; but broaden thy breast and strengthen thy heart and sit thee down till the Lady Zubaydah come, and surely thou shalt win thy wish of me.” So I sat down and, after a while, in came ten hand maidens, virgins like moons, and ranged themselves in two rows, five facing five; and after them twenty other damsels, high bosomed virginity, surrounding the Lady Zubaydah who could hardly walk for the weight of her raiment and ornaments. As she drew near, the slave girls dispersed from around her, and I advanced and kissed the ground between her hands. She signed to me to sit and, when I sat down before her chair, she began questioning me of my forbears and family and condition, to which I made such answers that pleased her, and she said to my mistress, “Our nurturing of thee, O damsel, hath not disappointed us.” Then she said to me, “Know that this handmaiden is to us even as our own child and she is a trust committed to thee by Allah.” I again kissed the ground before her, well pleased that I should marry my mistress, and she bade me abide ten days in the palace. So I abode there ten days, during which time I saw not my mistress nor anybody save one of the concubines, who brought me the morning and evening meals. After this the Lady Zubaydah took counsel with the Caliph on the marriage of her favourite handmaid, and he gave leave and assigned to her a wedding portion of ten thousand gold pieces. So the Lady Zubaydah sent for the Kazi and witnesses who wrote our marriage contract, after which the women made ready sweetmeats and rich viands and distributed them among all the Odahs2 of the Harim. Thus they did other ten days, at the end of which time my mistress went to the baths.3 Meanwhile, they set before me a tray of food where on were various meats and among those dishes, which were enough to daze the wits, was a bowl of cumin ragout containing chickens breasts, fricandoed4 and flavoured with sugar, pistachios, musk and rose water. Then, by Allah, fair sirs, I did not long hesitate; but took my seat before the ragout and fell to and ate of it till I could no more. After this I wiped my hands, but forgot to wash them; and sat till it grew dark, when the wax candles were lighted and the singing women came in with their tambourines and proceeded to display the bride in various dresses and to carry her in procession from room to room all round the palace, getting their palms crossed with gold. Then they brought her to me and disrobed her. When I found myself alone with her on the bed I embraced her, hardly believing in our union; but she smelt the strong odours of the ragout upon my hands and forth with cried out with an exceeding loud cry, at which the slave girls came running to her from all sides. I trembled with alarm, unknowing what was the matter, and the girls asked her, “What aileth thee, O our sister?” She answered them, “Take this mad man away from me: I had thought he was a man of sense!” Quoth I to her, “What makes thee think me mad?” Quoth she, “Thou madman’ what made thee eat of cumin ragout and forget to wash thy hand? By Allah, I will requite thee for thy misconduct. Shall the like of thee come to bed with the like of me with unclean hands?”5 Then she took from her side a plaited scourge and came down with it on my back and the place where I sit till her forearms were benumbed and I fainted away from the much beating; when she said to the handmaids, “Take him and carry him to the Chief of Police, that he may strike off the hand wherewith he ate of the cumin ragout, and which he did not wash.” When I heard this I said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! Wilt thou cut off my hand, because I ate of a cumin ragout and did not wash?” The handmaidens also interceded with her and kissed her hand saying, “O our sister, this man is a simpleton, punish him not for what he hath done this nonce;” but she answered, “By Allah, there is no help but that I dock him of somewhat, especially the offending member.” Then she went away and I saw no more of her for ten days, during which time she sent me meat and drink by a slave girl who told me that she had fallen sick from the smell of the cumin ragout. After that time she came to me and said, “O black of face!6 I will teach thee how to eat cumin ragout without washing thy hands!” Then she cried out to the handmaids, who pinioned me; and she took a sharp razor and cut off my thumbs and great toes; even as you see, O fair assembly! Thereupon I swooned away, and she sprinkled some powder of healing herbs upon the stumps and when the blood was stanched, I said, “Never again will I eat of cumin ragout without washing my hands forty times with potash and forty times with galangale and forty times with soap!” And she took of me an oath and bound me by a covenant to that effect. When, therefore, you brought me the cumin ragout my colour changed and I said to myself, “It was this very dish that caused the cutting off of my thumbs and great toes;” and, when you forced me, I said, “Needs must I fulfil the oath I have sworn.” “And what befell thee after this?” asked those present; and he answered, “When I swore to her, her anger was appeased and I slept with her that night. We abode thus awhile till she said to me one day, “Verily the Palace of the Caliph is not a pleasant place for us to live in, and none ever entered it save thyself; and thou only by grace of the Lady Zubaydah. Now she hath given me fifty thousand dinars,” adding, “Take this money and go out and buy us a fair dwelling house.” So I fared forth and bought a fine and spacious mansion, whither she removed all the wealth she owned and what riches I had gained in stuffs and costly rarities. Such is the cause of the cutting off of my thumbs and great toes. We ate (continued the Reeve), and were returning to our homes when there befell me with the Hunchback that thou wottest of. This then is my story, and peace be with thee! Quoth the King; “This story is on no wise more delectable than the story of the Hunchback; nay, it is even less so, and there is no help for the hanging of the whole of you.” Then came forward the Jewish physician and kissing the ground said, “O King of the age, I will tell thee an history more wonderful than that of the Hunchback.” “Tell on,” said the King of China; so he began the
1 Physiologically true, but not generally mentioned in describing the emotions.
2 Properly “Uta,” the different rooms, each “Odalisque,” or concubine, having her own.
3 Showing that her monthly ailment was over.
4 Arab “Muhammarah” = either browned before the fire or artificially reddened.
5 The insolence and licence of these palace-girls was (and is) unlimited, especially when, as in the present case, they have to deal with a “lofty.” On this subject numberless stories are current throughout the East.
6 i.e., blackened by the fires of Jehannam.
Right marvellous was a matter which came to pass to me in my youth. I lived in Damascus of Syria studying my art and, one day, as I was sitting at home behold, there came to me a Mameluke from the household of the Sahib and said to me, “Speak with my lord!” So I followed him to the Viceroy’s house and, entering the great hall, saw at its head a couch of cedar plated with gold whereon lay a sickly youth beautiful withal; fairer than he one could not see. I sat down by his head and prayed to Heaven for a cure; and he made me a sign with his eyes, so I said to him, “O my lord! favour me with thy hand, and safety be with thee!”1 Then he put forth his left hand and I marvelled thereat and said, “By Allah, strange that this handsome youth, the son of a great house, should so lack good manners. This can be nothing but pride and conceit!” However I felt his pulse and wrote him a prescription and continued to visit him for ten days, at the end of which time he recovered and went to the Hammam,2 whereupon the Viceroy gave me a handsome dress of honour and appointed me superintendent of the hospital which is in Damascus.3 I accompanied him to the baths, the whole of which they had kept private for his accommodation; and the servants came in with him and took off his clothes within the bath, and when he was stripped I saw that his right hand had been newly cut off, and this was the cause of his weakliness At this I was amazed and grieved for him: then, looking at his body, I saw on it the scars of scourge stripes whereto he had applied unguents. I was troubled at the sight and my concern appeared in my face. The young man looked at me and, comprehending the matter, said, “O Physician of the age, marvel not at my case; I will tell thee my story as soon as we quit the baths.” Then we washed and, returning to his house, ate somewhat of food and took rest awhile; after which he asked me, “What sayest thou to solacing thee by inspecting the supper hall?”; and I answered “So let it be.” Thereupon he ordered the slaves to carry out the carpets and cushions required and roast a lamb and bring us some fruit. They did his bidding and we ate together, he using the left hand for the purpose. After a while I said to him, “Now tell me thy tale.” “O Physician of the age,” replied he, “hear what befell me. Know that I am of the sons of Mosul, where my grandfather died leaving nine children of whom my father was the eldest. All grew up and took to them wives, but none of them was blessed with offspring except my father, to whom Providence vouchsafed me. So I grew up amongst my uncles who rejoiced in me with exceeding joy, till I came to man’s estate. One day which happened to be a Friday, I went to the Cathedral mosque of Mosul with my father and my uncles, and we prayed the congregational prayers, after which the folk went forth, except my father and uncles, who sat talking of wondrous things in foreign parts and the marvellous sights of strange cities. At last they mentioned Egypt, and one of my uncles said, “Travellers tell us that there is not on earth’s face aught fairer than Cairo and her Nile;” and these words made me long to see Cairo. Quoth my father, “Whoso hath not seen Cairo hath not seen the world. Her dust is golden and her Nile a miracle holden; and her women are as Houris fair; puppets, beautiful pictures; her houses are palaces rare; her water is sweet and light4 and her mud a commodity and a medicine beyond compare, even as said the poet in this his poetry:—
The Nile5 flood this day is the gain you own;
You alone in such gain and bounties wone:
The Nile is my tear flood of severance,
And here none is forlorn but I alone.
Moreover temperate is her air, and with fragrance blent, Which surpasseth aloes wood in scent; and how should it be otherwise, she being the Mother of the World? And Allah favour him who wrote these lines:—
An I quit Cairo and her pleasaunces,
Where can I wend to find so gladsome ways?
Shall I desert that site, whose grateful scents
Joy every soul and call for loudest praise?
Where every palace, as another Eden,
Carpets and cushions richly wrought displays;
A city wooing sight and sprite to glee,
Where Saint meets Sinner and each ‘joys his craze;
Where friend meets friend, by Providence united
In greeny garden and in palmy maze:
People of Cairo, and by Allah’s doom
I fare, with you in thoughts I wone always!
Whisper not Cairo in the ear of Zephyr,
Lest for her like of garden scents he reave her,6
And if your eyes saw her earth, and the adornment thereof with bloom, and the purfling of it with all manner blossoms, and the islands of the Nile and how much is therein of wide spread and goodly prospect, and if you bent your sight upon the Abyssinian Pond,7 your glance would not revert from the scene quit of wonder; for nowhere would you behold the fellow of that lovely view; and, indeed, the two arms of the Nile embrace most luxuriant verdure,8 as the white of the eye encompasseth its black or like filigreed silver surrounding chrysolites. And divinely gifted was the poet who there anent said these couplets:—
By th’ Abyssinian Pond, O day divine!
In morning twilight and in sunny shine:
The water prisoned in its verdurous walls,
Like sabre flashes before shrinking eyne:
And in The Garden sat we while it drains
Slow draught, with purfled sides dyed finest fine:
The stream is rippled by the hands of clouds;
We too, a-rippling, on our rugs recline,
Passing pure wine, and whoso leaves us there
Shall ne’er arise from fall his woes design:
Draining long draughts from large and brimming bowls,
Administ’ring thirst’s only medicine — wine.
And what is there to compare with the Rasad, the Observatory, and its charms whereof every viewer as he approacheth saith, ‘Verily this spot is specialised with all manner of excellence!’ And if thou speak of the Night of Nile full,9 give the rainbow and distribute it! 10 And if thou behold The Garden at eventide, with the cool shades sloping far and wide, a marvel thou wouldst see and wouldst incline to Egypt in ecstasy. And wert thou by Cairo’s river side,11 when the sun is sinking and the stream dons mail coat and habergeon12 over its other vestments, thou wouldst be quickened to new life by its gentle zephyrs and by its all sufficient shade.” So spake he and the rest fell to describing Egypt and her Nile. As I heard their accounts, my thoughts dwelt upon the subject and when, after talking their fill, all arose and went their ways, I lay down to sleep that night, but sleep came not because of my violent longing for Egypt; and neither meat pleased me nor drink. After a few days my uncles equipped themselves for a trade journey to Egypt; and I wept before my father till he made ready for me fitting merchandise, and he consented to my going with them, saying however, “Let him not enter Cairo, but leave him to sell his wares at Damascus.” So I took leave of my father and we fared forth from Mosul and gave not over travelling till we reached Aleppo13 where we halted certain days. Then we marched onwards till we made Damascus and we found her a city as though she were a Paradise, abounding in trees and streams and birds and fruits of all kinds. We alighted at one of the Khans, where my uncles tarried awhile selling and buying; and they bought and sold also on my account, each dirham turning a profit of five on prime cost, which pleased me mightily. After this they left me alone and set their faces Egyptwards; whilst I abode at Damascus, where I had hired from a jeweller, for two dinars a month, a mansion14 whose beauties would beggar the tongue. Here I remained, eating and drinking and spending what monies I had in hand till, one day, as I was sitting at the door of my house be hold, there came up a young lady clad in costliest raiment never saw my eyes richer. I winked 15 at her and she stepped inside without hesitation and stood within. I entered with her and shut the door upon myself and her; whereupon she raised her face veil and threw off her mantilla, when I found her like a pictured moon of rare and marvellous loveliness; and love of her gat hold of my heart. So I rose and brought a tray of the most delicate eatables and fruits and whatso befitted the occasion, and we ate and played and after that we drank till the wine turned our heads. Then I lay with her the sweetest of nights and in the morning I offered her ten gold pieces; when her face lowered and her eye brows wrinkled and shaking with wrath she cried, “Fie upon thee, O my sweet companion! dost thou deem that I covet thy money?” Then she took out from the bosom of her shift16 fifteen dinars and, laying them before me, said, “By Allah! unless thou take them I will never come back to thee.” So I accepted them and she said to me, “O my beloved! expect me again in three days’ time, when I will be with thee between sunset and supper tide; and do thou prepare for us with these dinars the same entertainment as yesternight.” So saying, she took leave of me and went away and all my senses went with her. On the third day she came again, clad in stuff weft with gold wire, and wearing raiment and ornaments finer than before. I had prepared the place for her ere she arrived and the repast was ready; so we ate and drank and lay together, as we had done, till the morning, when she gave me other fifteen gold pieces and promised to come again after three days. Accordingly, I made ready for her and, at the appointed time, she presented herself more richly dressed than on the first and second occasions, and said to me, “O my lord, am I not beautiful?” “Yea, by Allah thou art!” answered I, and she went on, “Wilt thou allow me to bring with me a young lady fairer than I, and younger in years, that she may play with us and thou and she may laugh and make merry and rejoice her heart, for she hath been very sad this long time past, and hath asked me to take her out and let her spend the night abroad with me?” “Yea, by Allah!” I replied; and we drank till the wine turned our heads and slept till the morning, when she gave me other fifteen dinars, saying, “Add something to thy usual provision on account of the young lady who will come with me.” Then she went away, and on the fourth day I made ready the house as usual, and soon after sunset behold, she came, accompanied by another damsel carefully wrapped in her mantilla. They entered and sat down; and when I saw them I repeated these verses:—
“How dear is our day and how lucky our lot,
When the cynic’s away with his tongue malign!
When love and delight and the swimming of head
Send cleverness trotting, the best boon of wine.
When the full moon shines from the cloudy veil,
And the branchlet sways in her greens that shine:
When the red rose mantles in freshest cheek,
And Narcissus17 opeth his love sick eyne:
When pleasure with those I love is so sweet,
When friendship with those I love is complete!”
I rejoiced to see them, and lighted the candles after receiving them with gladness and delight. They doffed their heavy outer dresses and the new damsel uncovered her face when I saw that she was like the moon at its full never beheld I aught more beautiful. Then I rose and set meat and drink before them, and we ate and drank; and I kept giving mouthfuls to the new comer, crowning her cup and drinking with her till the first damsel, waxing inwardly jealous, asked me, “By Allah, is she not more delicious than I?”; whereto I answered, “Ay, by the Lord!” “It is my wish that thou lie with her this night; for I am thy mistress but she is our visitor. Upon my head be it, and my eyes.” Then she rose and spread the carpets for our bed18 and I took the young lady and lay with her that night till morning, when I awoke and found myself wet, as I thought, with sweat. I sat up and tried to arouse the damsel; but when I shook her by the shoulders my hand became crimson with blood and her head rolled off the pillow. Thereupon my senses fled and I cried aloud, saying, “O All powerful Protector, grant me Thy protection!” Then finding her neck had been severed, I sprung up and the world waxed black before my eyes, and I looked for the lady, my former love, but could not find her. So I knew that it was she who had murdered the damsel in her jealousy,19 and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! What is to be done now?” I considered awhile then, doffing my clothes, dug a hole in the middle of the court yard, wherein I laid the murdered girl with her jewellery and golden ornaments; and, throwing back the earth on her, replaced the slabs of the marble20 pavement. After this I made the Ghusl or total ablution,21 and put on pure clothes; then, taking what money I had left, locked up the house and summoned courage and went to its owner to whom I paid a year’s rent, saying, “I am about to join my uncles in Cairo.” Presently I set out and, journeying to Egypt, foregathered with my uncles who rejoiced in me, and I found that they had made an end of selling their merchandise. They asked me, “What is the cause of thy coming?”; and I answered “I longed for a sight of you;” but did not let them know that I had any money with me. I abode with them a year, enjoying the pleasures of Cairo and her Nile,22 and squandering the rest of my money in feasting and carousing till the time drew near for the departure of my uncles, when I fled from them and hid myself. They made enquiries and sought for me, but hearing no tidings they said, “He will have gone back to Damascus.” When they departed I came forth from my hiding place and abode in Cairo three years, until naught remained of my money. Now every year I used to send the rent of the Damascus house to its owner, until at last I had nothing left but enough to pay him for one year’s rent and my breast was straitened. So I travelled to Damascus and alighted at the house whose owner, the jeweller, was glad to see me and I found everything locked up as I had left it. I opened the closets and took out my clothes and necessaries and came upon, beneath the carpet bed whereon I had lain that night with the girl who had been beheaded, a golden necklace set with ten gems of passing beauty. I took it up and, cleansing it of the blood, sat gazing upon it and wept awhile. Then I abode in the house two days and on the third I entered the Hammam and changed my clothes. I had no money by me now; so Satan whispered temptation to me that the Decree of Destiny be carried out. Next day I took the jewelled necklace to the bazaar and handed it to a broker who made me sit down in the shop of the jeweller, my landlord, and bade me have patience till the market was full,23 when he carried off the ornament and proclaimed it for sale, privily and without my knowledge. The necklet was priced as worth two thousand dinars, but the broker returned to me and said, “This collar is of copper, a mere counterfeit after the fashion of the Franks24 and a thousand dirhams have been bidden for it.” “Yes,” I answered, “I knew it to be copper, as we had it made for a certain person that we might mock her: now my wife hath inherited it and we wish to sell it; so go and take over the thousand dirhams.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Bi’l-Salámah” = in safety (to avert the evil eye). When visiting the sick it is usual to say something civil; “The Lord heal thee! No evil befall thee!” etc.
2 Washing during sickness is held dangerous by Arabs; and “going to the Hammam” is, I have said, equivalent to convalescence.
3 Arab. “Máristán” (pronounced Múristan) a corruption of the Pers. “Bímáristán” = place of sickness, a hospital much affected by the old Guebres (Dabistan, i., 165, 166). That of Damascus was the first Moslem hospital, founded by Al–Walid Son of Abd al-Malik the Ommiade in A. H. 88 = 706–7. Benjamin of Tudela (A. D. 1164) calls it “Dar-al Maraphtan” which his latest Editor explains by “Dar-al-Morabittan” (abode of those who require being chained). Al–Makrizi (Khitat) ascribes the invention of “Spitals” to Hippocrates; another historian to an early Pharaoh “Manákiyush;” thus ignoring the Persian Kings, Saint Ephrem (or Ephraim), Syru, etc. In modern parlance “Maristan” is a madhouse where the maniacs are treated with all the horrors which were universal in Europe till within a few years and of which occasional traces occur to this day. In A.D. 1399 Katherine de la Court held a “hospital in the Court called Robert de Paris,” but the first madhouse in Christendom was built by the legate Ortiz in Toledo A. D. 1483, and was therefore called Casa del Nuncio. The Damascus “Maristan” was described by every traveller of the last century: and it showed a curious contrast between the treatment of the maniac and the idiot or omadhaun, who is humanely allowed to wander about unharmed, if not held a Saint. When I saw it last (1870) it was all but empty and mostly in ruins. As far as my experience goes, the United States is the only country where the insane are rationally treated by the sane.
4 Hence the trite saying “Whoso drinks the water of the Nile will ever long to drink it again.” “Light” means easily digested water; and the great test is being able to drink it at night between the sleeps, without indigestion
5 “Níl” in popular parlance is the Nile in flood; although also used for the River as a proper name. Egyptians (modern as well as ancient) have three seasons, Al–Shitá (winter), Al–Sayf (summer) and Al-Níl (the Nile i.e. flood season’ our mid-summer); corresponding with the Growth months; Housing (or granary)-months and Flood-months of the older race.
6 These lines are in the Mac. Edit.
7 Arab. “Birkat al-Habash,” a tank formerly existing in Southern Cairo: Galland (Night 128) says “en remontant vers l’Ethiopie.”
8 The Bres. Edit. (ii., 190), from which I borrow this description, here alludes to the well-known Island, Al–Rauzah (Rodah) = The Garden.
9 Arab. “Laylat al-Wafá,” the night of the completion or abundance of the Nile (-flood), usually between August 6th and 16th, when the government proclaims that the Nilometer shows a rise of 16 cubits. Of course it is a great festival and a high ceremony, for Egypt is still the gift of the Nile (Lane M. E. chaps. xxvi — a work which would be much improved by a better index).
10 i.e., admiration will be complete.
11 Arab. “Sáhil Masr” (Misr): hence I suppose Galland’s villes maritimes.
12 A favourite simile, suggested by the broken glitter and shimmer of the stream under the level rays and the breeze of eventide.
13 Arab. “Halab,” derived by Moslems from “He (Abraham) milked (halaba) the white and dun cow.” But the name of the city occurs in the Cuneiforms as Halbun or Khalbun, and the classics knew it as {Greek Letters}, Beroca, written with variants.
14 Arab. “Ká‘ah,” usually a saloon; but also applied to a fine house here and elsewhere in The Nights.
15 Arab. “Ghamz” = winking, signing with the eye which, amongst Moslems, is not held “vulgar.”
16 Arab. “Kamís” from low Lat. “Camicia,” first found in St. Jerome:— “Solent militantes habere lineas, quas Camicias vocant.” Our shirt, chemise, chemisette, etc., was unknown to the Ancients of Europe.
17 Arab. “Narjís.” The Arabs borrowed nothing, but the Persians much, from Greek Mythology. Hence the eye of Narcissus, an idea hardly suggested by the look of the daffodil (or asphodel)-flower, is at times the glance of a spy and at times the die-away look of a mistress. Some scholars explain it by the form of the flower, the internal calyx resembling the iris, and the stalk being bent just below the petals suggesting drooping eyelids and languid eyes. Hence a poet addresses the Narcissus:—
O Narjis, look away! Before those eyes
I may not kiss her as a-breast she lies.
What! Shall the lover close his eyes in sleep
While thine watch all things between earth and skies?
The fashionable lover in the East must affect a frantic jealousy if he does not feel it.
18 In Egypt there are neither bedsteads nor bedrooms: the carpets and mattresses, pillows and cushions (sheets being unknown), are spread out when wanted, and during the day are put into chests or cupboards, or only rolled up in a corner of the room (Pilgrimage i. 53).
19 The women of Damascus have always been famed for the sanguinary jealousy with which European story-books and novels credit the “Spanish lady.” The men were as celebrated for intolerance and fanaticism, which we first read of in the days of Bertrandon de la Brocquière and which culminated in the massacre of 1860. Yet they are a notoriously timid race and make, physically and morally, the worst of soldiers: we proved that under my late friend Fred. Walpole in the Bashi–Buzuks during the old Crimean war. The men looked very fine fellows and after a month in camp fell off to the condition of old women.
20 Arab. “Rukhám,” properly = alabaster and “Marmar” = marble; but the two are often confounded.
21 He was ceremonially impure after touching a corpse.
22 The phrase is perfectly appropriate: Cairo without “her Nile” would be nothing.
23 “The market was hot” say the Hindustanis. This would begin between 7 and 8 a.m.
24 Arab. Al–Faranj, Europeans generally. It is derived from “Gens Francorum,” and dates from Crusading days when the French played the leading part. Hence the Lingua Franca, the Levantine jargon, of which Molière has left such a witty specimen.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the beautiful youth said to the broker, “Take over the thousand dirhams;” and when the broker heard this, he knew that the case was suspicious. So he carried the collar to the Syndic of the bazaar, and the Syndic took it to the Governor who was also prefect of police, and said to him falsely enough, “This necklet was stolen from my house, and we have found the thief in traders’ dress.” So before I was aware of it the watch got round me and, making me their prisoner, carried me before the Governor who questioned me of the collar. I told him the tale I had told to the broker; but he laughed and said, “These words are not true.” Then, before I knew what was doing, the guard stripped off my clothes and came down with palm rods upon my ribs, till for the smart of the stick I confessed, “It was I who stole it;” saying to myself, “’Tis better for thee to say, I stole it, than to let them know that its owner was murdered in thy house, for then would they slay thee to avenge her.” So they wrote down that I had stolen it and they cut off my hand and scalded the stump in oil,1 when I swooned away for pain; but they gave me wine to drink and I recovered and, taking up my hand, was going to my fine house, when my landlord said to me, “Inasmuch, O my son, as this hath befallen thee, thou must leave my house and look out for another lodging for thee, since thou art convicted of theft. Thou art a handsome youth, but who will pity thee after this?” “O my master” said I, “bear with me but two days or three, till I find me another place.” He answered, “So be it.” and went away and left me. I returned to the house where I sat weeping and saying, How shall I go back to my own people with my hand lopped off and they know not that I am innocent? Perchance even after this Allah may order some matter for me.” And I wept with exceeding weeping, grief beset me and I remained in sore trouble for two days; but on the third day my landlord came suddenly in to me, and with him some of the guard and the Syndic of the bazaar, who had falsely charged me with stealing the necklet. I went up to them and asked, “What is the matter?” however, they pinioned me with out further parley and threw a chain about my neck, saying, “The necklet which was with thee hath proved to be the property of the Wazir of Damascus who is also her Viceroy;” and they added, “It was missing from his house three years ago at the same time as his younger daughter.” When I heard these words, my heart sank within me and I said to myself, “Thy life is gone beyond a doubt! By Allah, needs must I tell the Chief my story; and, if he will, let him kill me, and if he please, let him pardon me.” So they carried me to the Wazir’s house and made me stand between his hands. When he saw me, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and said to those present, “Why did ye lop off his hand? This man is unfortunate, and there is no fault in him; indeed ye have wronged him in cutting off his hand.” When I heard this, I took heart and, my soul presaging good, I said to him, “By Allah, O my lord, I am no thief; but they calumniated me with a vile calumny, and they scourged me midmost the market, bidding me confess till, for the pain of the rods, I lied against myself and confessed the theft, albeit I am altogether innocent of it.” “Fear not,” quoth the Viceroy, “no harm shall come to thee.” Then he ordered the Syndic of the bazaar to be imprisoned and said to him, “Give this man the blood money for his hand; and, if thou delay I will hang thee and seize all thy property.” Moreover he called to his guards who took him and dragged him away, leaving me with the Chief. Then they loosed by his command the chain from my neck and unbound my arms; and he looked at me, and said, “O my son, be true with me, and tell me how this necklace came to thee.” And he repeated these verses:—
“Truth best befits thee, albeit truth
Shall bring thee to burn on the threatened fire.”
“By Allah, O my lord,” answered I, “I will tell thee nothing but the truth.” Then I related to him all that had passed between me and the first lady, and how she had brought me the second and had slain her out of jealousy, and I detailed for him the tale to its full. When he heard my story, he shook his head and struck his right hand upon the left,2 and putting his kerchief over his face wept awhile and then repeated:—
“I see the woes of the world abound,
And worldings sick with spleen and teen;
There’s One who the meeting of two shall part,
And who part not are few and far between!”
Then he turned to me and said, “Know, O my son, that the elder damsel who first came to thee was my daughter whom I used to keep closely guarded. When she grew up, I sent her to Cairo and married her to her cousin, my brother’s son. After a while he died and she came back: but she had learnt wantonness and ungraciousness from the people of Cairo;3 so she visited thee four times and at last brought her younger sister. Now they were sisters-german and much attached to each other; and, when that adventure happened to the elder, she disclosed her secret to her sister who desired to go out with her. So she asked thy leave and carried her to thee; after which she returned alone and, finding her weeping, I questioned her of her sister, but she said, ‘I know nothing of her.’ However, she presently told her mother privily of what had happened and how she had cut off her sister’s head and her mother told me. Then she ceased not to weep and say, ‘By Allah! I shall cry for her till I die.’ Nor did she give over mourning till her heart broke and she died; and things fell out after that fashion. See then, O my son, what hath come to pass; and now I desire thee not to thwart me in what I am about to offer thee, and it is that I purpose to marry thee to my youngest daughter; for she is a virgin and born of another mother;4 and I will take no dower of thee but, on the contrary, will appoint thee an allowance, and thou shalt abide with me in my house in the stead of my son.” “So be it,” I answered, “and how could I hope for such good fortune?” Then he sent at once for the Kazi and witnesses, and let write my marriage contract with his daughter and I went in to her. Moreover, he got me from the Syndic of the bazaar a large sum of money and I became in high favour with him. During this year news came to me that my father was dead and the Wazir despatched a courier, with letters bearing the royal sign manual, to fetch me the money which my father had left behind him, and now I am living in all the solace of life. Such was the manner of the cutting off my right hand.” I marvelled at his story (continued the Jew), and I abode with him three days after which he gave me much wealth, and I set out and travelled Eastward till I reached this your city and the sojourn suited me right well; so I took up my abode here and there befell me what thou knowest with the Hunchback. There upon the King of China shook his head5 and said, “This story of thine is not stranger and more wondrous and marvellous and delectable than the tale of the Hunchback; and so needs must I hang the whole number of you. However there yet remains the Tailor who is the head of all the offence;” and he added, “O Tailor, if thou canst tell me any thing more wonderful than the story of the Hunchback, I will pardon you all your offences.” Thereupon the man came forward and began to tell the
1 A process familiar to European surgery of the same date.
2 In sign of disappointment, regret, vexation; a gesture still common amongst Moslems and corresponding in significance to a certain extent with our stamping, wringing the hands and so forth. It is not mentioned in the Koran where, however, we find “biting fingers’ ends out of wrath” against a man (chaps. iii.).
3 This is no unmerited scandal. The Cairenes, especially the feminine half (for reasons elsewhere given), have always been held exceedingly debauched. Even the modest Lane gives a “shocking” story of a woman enjoying her lover under the nose of her husband and confining the latter in a madhouse (chaps. xiii.). With civilisation, which objects to the good old remedy, the sword, they become worse: and the Kazi’s court is crowded with would-be divorcees. Under English rule the evil has reached its acme because it goes unpunished: in the avenues of the new Isma’iliyah Quarter, inhabited by Europeans, women, even young women, will threaten to expose their persons unless they receive “bakhshísh.” It was the same in Sind when husbands were assured that they would be hanged for cutting down adulterous wives: at once after its conquest the women broke loose; and in 1843–50, if a young officer sent to the bazaar for a girl, half-a-dozen would troop to his quarters. Indeed more than once the professional prostitutes threatened to memorialise Sir Charles Napier because the “modest women,” the “ladies” were taking the bread out of their mouths. The same was the case at Kabul (Caboul) of Afghanistan in the old war of 1840; and here the women had more excuse, the husbands being notable sodomites as the song has it.
The worth of slit the Afghan knows;
The worth of hole the Kábul-man.
4 So that he might not have to do with three sisters-german. Moreover amongst Moslems a girl’s conduct is presaged by that of her mother; and if one sister go wrong, the other is expected to follow suit. Practically the rule applies everywhere, “like mother like daughter.”
5 In sign of dissent; as opposed to nodding the head which signifies assent. These are two items, apparently instinctive and universal, of man’s gesture-language which has been so highly cultivated by sundry North American tribes and by the surdo-mute establishments of Europe.
Know, O King of the age, that most marvellous was that which befell me but yesterday, before I foregathered with the Hunch back. It so chanced that in the early day I was at the marriage feast of one of my companions, who had gotten together in his house some twenty of the handicraftsmen of this city, amongst them tailors and silk spinners and carpenters and others of the same kidney. As soon as the sun had risen, they set food1 before us that we might eat when behold, the master of the house entered, and with him a foreign youth and a well favoured of the people of Baghdad, wearing clothes as handsome as handsome could be; and he was of right comely presence save that he was lame of one leg. He came and saluted us and we stood up to receive him; but when he was about to sit down he espied amongst us a certain man which was a Barber; whereupon he refused to be seated and would have gone away. But we stopped him and our host also stayed him, making oath that he should not leave us and asked him, “What is the reason of thy coming in and going out again at once?”; whereto he answered, “By Allah, O my lord, do not hinder me; for the cause of my turning back is yon Barber of bad omen,2 yon black o’face, yon ne’er do well!” When the housemaster heard these words he marvelled with extreme marvel and said, “How cometh this young man, who haileth from Baghdad, to be so troubled and perplexed about this Barber?” Then we looked at the stranger and said, “Explain the cause of thine anger against the Barber.” “O fair company,” quoth the youth, “there befell me a strange adventure with this Barber in Baghdad (which is my native city); he was the cause of the breaking of my leg and of my lameness, and I have sworn never to sit in the same place with him, nor even tarry in any town where he happens to abide; and I have bidden adieu to Baghdad and travelled far from it and came to stay in this your city; yet I have hardly passed one night before I meet him again. But not another day shall go by ere I fare forth from here.” Said we to him, “Allah upon thee, tell us the tale;” and the youth replied (the Barber changing colour from brown to yellow as he spoke): Know, O fair company, that my father was one of the chief merchants of Baghdad, and Almighty Allah had blessed him with no son but myself. When I grew up and reached man’s estate, my father was received into the mercy of Allah (whose Name be exalted!) and left me money and eunuchs, servants and slaves; and I used to dress well and diet well. Now Allah had made me a hater of women kind and one day, as I was walking along a street in Baghdad, a party of females met me face to face in the footway; so I fled from them and, entering an alley which was no thoroughfare, sat down upon a stone bench at its other end. I had not sat there long before the latticed window of one of the houses opposite was thrown open, and there appeared at it a young lady, as she were the full moon at its fullest; never in my life saw I her like; and she began to water some flowers on the window sill.3 She turned right and left and, seeing me watching her, shut the window and went away. Thereupon fire was suddenly enkindled in my heart; my mind was possessed with her and my woman hate turned to woman love. I continued sitting there, lost to the world, till sunset when lo! the Kazi of the city came riding by with his slaves before him and his eunuchs behind him, and dismounting entered the house in which the damsel had appeared. By this I knew that he was her father; so I went home sorrowful and cast myself upon my carpet bed in grief. Then my handmaids flocked in and sat about me, unknowing what ailed me; but I addressed no speech to them, and they wept and wailed over me. Presently in came an old woman who looked at me and saw with a glance what was the matter with me: so she by my head spoke me fair, saying, “O my son, tell me all about it and I will be the means of thy union with her.”4 So I related to her what had happened and she answered, “O my son, this one is the daughter of the Kazi of Baghdad who keepeth her in the closest seclusion; and the window where thou sawest her is her floor, whilst her father occupies the large saloon in the lower story. She is often there alone and I am wont to visit at the house; so thou shalt not win to her save through me. Now set thy wits to work and be of good cheer.” With these words she went away and I took heart at what she said and my people rejoiced that day, seeing me rise in the morning safe and sound. By and by the old woman returned looking chopfallen,5 and said, “O my son, do not ask me how I fared with her! When I told her that, she cried at me, ‘If thou hold not thy peace, O hag of ill omen, and leave not such talk, I will entreat thee as thou deservest and do thee die by the foulest of deaths.’ But needs must I have at her a second time.”6 When I heard this it added ailment to my ailment and the neighbours visited me and judged that I was not long for this world; but after some days, the old woman came to me and, putting her mouth close to my ear, whispered, “O my son; I claim from thee the gift of good news.” With this my soul returned to me and I said, “Whatever thou wilt shall be thine.” Thereupon she began, “Yesterday I went to the young lady who, seeing me broken in spirit and shedding tears from reddened eyes, asked me, ‘O naunty7 mine, what ails thee, that I see thy breast so straitened?’; and I answered her, weeping bitterly, ‘O my lady, I am just come from the house of a youth who loves thee and who is about to die for sake of thee!’ Quoth she (and her heart was softened), ‘And who is this youth of whom thou speakest?’; and quoth I, ‘He is to me as a son and the fruit of my vitals. He saw thee, some days ago, at the window watering thy flowers and espying thy face and wrists he fell in love at first sight. I let him know what happened to me the last time I was with thee, whereupon his ailment increased, he took to the pillow and he is naught now but a dead man, and no doubt what ever of it.’ At this she turned pale and asked, ‘All this for my sake?’; and I answered, ‘Ay, by Allah!8 what wouldst thou have me do?’ Said she, ‘Go back to him and greet him for me and tell him that I am twice more heartsick than he is. And on Friday, before the hour of public prayer, bid him here to the house, and I will come down and open the door for him. Then I will carry him up to my chamber and foregather with him for a while, and let him depart before my father return from the Mosque.’” When I heard the old woman’s words, all my sickness suddenly fell from me, my anguish ceased and my heart was comforted; I took off what clothes were on me and gave them to her and, as she turned to go, she said, “Keep a good heart!” “I have not a jot of sorrow left.” I replied. My household and intimates rejoiced in my recovery and I abode thus till Friday, when behold, the old woman came in and asked me how I did, to which I answered that I was well and in good case. Then I donned my clothes and perfumed myself and sat down to await the congregation going in to prayers, that I might betake myself to her. But the old woman said to me, “Thou hast time and to spare: so thou wouldst do well to go to the Hammam and have thy hair shaven off (especially after thy ailment), so as not to show traces of sickness.” “This were the best way,” answered I, “I have just now bathed in hot water, but I will have my head shaved.” Then I said to my page, “Go to the bazaar and bring me a barber, a discreet fellow and one not inclined to meddling or impertinent curiosity or likely to split my head with his excessive talk.”9 The boy went out at once and brought back with him this wretched old man, this Shaykh of ill omen. When he came in he saluted me and I returned his salutation; then quoth he, “Of a truth I see thee thin of body;” and quoth I, “I have been ailing.” He continued, “Allah drive far away from thee thy woe and thy sorrow and thy trouble and thy distress.” “Allah grant thy prayer!” said I. He pursued, “All gladness to thee, O my master, for indeed recovery is come to thee. Dost thou wish to be polled or to be blooded? Indeed it was a tradition of Ibn Abbas10 (Allah accept of him!) that the Apostle said, ‘Whoso cutteth his hair on a Friday, the Lord shall avert from him threescore and ten calamities;’ and again is related of him also that he said, ‘Cupping on a Friday keepeth from loss of sight and a host of diseases.’” “Leave this talk,” I cried; “come, shave me my head at once for I can’t stand it.” So he rose and put forth his hand in most leisurely way and took out a kerchief and unfolded it, and lo! it contained an astrolabe11 with seven parallel plates mounted in silver. Then he went to the middle of the court and raised head and instrument towards the sun’s rays and looked for a long while. When this was over, he came back and said to me, “Know that there have elapsed of this our day, which be Friday, and this Friday be the tenth of the month Safar in the six hundred and fifty — third year since the Hegira or Flight of the Apostle (on whom be the bestest of blessings and peace!) and the seven thousand three hundred and twentieth year of the era of Alexander, eight degrees and six minutes. Furthermore the ascendant of this our day is, according to the exactest science of computation, the planet Mars; and it so happeneth that Mercury is in conjunction with him, denoting an auspicious moment for hair cutting; and this also maketh manifest to me that thou desires union with a certain person and that your intercourse will not be propitious. But after this there occurreth a sign respecting a matter which will befall thee and whereof I will not speak.” “O thou,” cried I, “by Allah, thou weariest me and scatterest my wits and thy forecast is other than good; I sent for thee to poll my head and naught else: so up and shave me and prolong not thy speech.” “By Allah,” replied he, “if thou but knew what is about to befall thee, thou wouldst do nothing this day, and I counsel thee to act as I tell thee by computation of the constellations.” “By Allah,” said I, “never did I see a barber who excelled in judicial astrology save thyself: but I think and I know that thou art most prodigal of frivolous talk. I sent for thee only to shave my head, but thou comest and pesterest me with this sorry prattle.” “What more wouldst thou have?” replied he. “Allah hath bounteously bestowed on thee a Barber who is an astrologer, one learned in alchemy and white magic;12 syntax, grammar, and lexicology; the arts of logic, rhetoric and elocution; mathematics, arithmetic and algebra; astronomy, astromancy and geometry; theology, the Traditions of the Apostle and the Commentaries on the Koran. Furthermore, I have read books galore and digested them and have had experience of affairs and comprehended them. In short I have learned the theorick and the practick of all the arts and sciences; I know everything of them by rote and I am a past master in tota re scibili. Thy father loved me for my lack of officiousness, argal, to serve thee is a religious duty incumbent on me. I am no busy body as thou seemest to suppose, and on this account I am known as The Silent Man, also, The Modest Man. Wherefore it behoveth thee to render thanks to Allah Almighty and not cross me, for I am a true counsellor to thee and benevolently minded towards thee. Would that I were in thy service a whole year that thou mightest do me justice; and I would ask thee no wage for all this.” When I heard his flow of words, I said to him, “Doubtless thou wilt be my death this day!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This “Futur” is the real “breakfast” of the East, the “Chhoti házri” (petit déjeûner) of India, a bit of bread, a cup of coffee or tea and a pipe on rising, In the text, however, it is a ceremonious affair.
2 Arab. “Nahs,” a word of many meanings; a sinister aspect of the stars (as in Hebr. end Aram.) or, adjectivally, sinister, of ill-omen. Vulgarly it is used as the reverse of nice and corresponds, after a fashion, with our “nasty.”
3 “Window-gardening,” new in England, is an old practice in the East.
4 Her pimping instinct at once revealed the case to her.
5 The usual “pander-dodge” to get more money.
6 The writer means that the old woman’s account was all false, to increase apparent difficulties and pour se faire valoir.
7 Arab. “Yá Khálati” =mother’s sister; a familiar address to the old, as uncle or nuncle (father’s brother) to a man. The Arabs also hold that as a girl resembles her mother so a boy follows his uncle (mother’s brother): hence the address “Ya tayyib al-Khál!” = 0 thou nephew of a good uncle. I have noted that physically this is often fact.
8 “Ay w’ Alláhi,” contracted popularly to Aywa, a word in every Moslem mouth and shunned by Christians because against orders Hebrew and Christian. The better educated Turks now eschew that eternal reference to Allah which appears in The Nights and which is still the custom of the vulgar throughout the world of Al–Islam.
9 The “Muzayyin” or barber in the East brings his basin and budget under his arm: he is not content only to shave, he must scrape the forehead, trim the eyebrows, pass the blade lightly over the nose and correct the upper and lower lines of the mustachios, opening the central parting and so forth. He is not a whit less a tattler and a scandal monger than the old Roman tonsor or Figaro, his confrère in Southern Europe. The whole scene of the Barber is admirable, an excellent specimen of Arab humour and not over-caricatured. We all have met him.
10 Abdullah ibn Abbas was a cousin and a companion of the Apostle, also a well known Commentator on the Koran and conserver of the traditions of Mohammed.
11 I have noticed the antiquity of this father of our sextant, a fragment of which was found in the Palace of Sennacherib. More concerning the “Arstable” (as Chaucer calls it) is given in my “Camoens: his Life and his Lusiads,” p. 381.
12 Arab. “Simiyá” to rhyme with Kímiyá (alchemy proper). It is a subordinate branch of the Ilm al-Ruháni which I would translate “Spiritualism,” and which is divided into two great branches, “Ilwí or Rahmáni” (the high or related to the Deity) and Siflí or Shaytáni (low, Satanic). To the latter belongs Al–Sahr, magic or the black art proper, gramarye, egromancy, while Al — Simiyá is white magic, electro-biology, a kind of natural and deceptive magic, in which drugs and perfumes exercise an important action. One of its principal branches is the Darb al-Mandal or magic mirror, of which more in a future page. See Boccaccio’s Day x. Novel 5.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young man said to the Barber, “Thou certainly will be the death of me this very day!” “O master mine,” replied he, “I am he, The Silent Man hight, by reason of the fewness of my words, to distinguish me from my six brothers. For the eldest is called Al–Bakbúk, the prattler; the second Al–Haddár, the babbler; the third Al–Fakík, the gabbler; the fourth, his name is Al–Kuz al-aswáni, the long necked Gugglet, from his eternal chattering; the fifth is Al-Nashshár, the tattler and tale teller; the sixth Shakáshik, or many clamours; and the seventh is famous as Al-Sámit, The Silent Man, and this is my noble self!” Whilst he redoubled his talk, I thought my gall bladder would have burst; so I said to the servant, “Give him a quarter dinar and dismiss him and let him go from me in the name of God who made him. I won’t have my head shaved to day.” “What words be these, O my lord?” cried he. “By Allah! I will accept no hire of thee till I have served thee and have ministered to thy wants; and I care not if I never take money of thee. If thou know not my quality, I know thine; and I owe thy father, an honest man, on whom Allah Almighty have mercy! many a kindness, for he was a liberal soul and a generous. By Allah, he sent for me one day, as it were this blessed day, and I went in to him and found a party of his intimates about him. Quoth he to me, ‘Let me blood;’ so I pulled out my astrolabe and, taking the sun’s altitude for him, I ascertained that the ascendant was inauspicious and the hour unfavourable for brooding. I told him of this, and he did according to my bidding and awaited a better opportunity. So I made these lines in honour of him:—
I went to my patron some blood to let him,
But found that the moment was far from good:
So I sat and I talked of all strangenesses,
And with jests and jokes his good will I wooed:
They pleased him and cried he, ‘O man of wit,
Thou hast proved thee perfect in merry mood!’
Quoth I, ‘O thou Lord of men, save thou
Lend me art and wisdom I’m fou and wood
In thee gather grace, boon, bounty, suavity,
And I guerdon the world with lore, science and gravity.’
Thy father was delighted and cried out to the servant, ‘Give him an hundred and three gold pieces with a robe of honour!’ The man obeyed his orders, and I awaited an auspicious moment, when I blooded him; and he did not baulk me; nay he thanked me and I was also thanked and praised by all present. When the blood-letting was over I had no power to keep silence and asked him, ‘By Allah, O my lord, what made thee say to the servant, Give him an hundred and three dinars?’; and he answered, ‘One dinar was for the astrological observation, another for thy pleasant conversation, the third for the phlebotomisation, and the remaining hundred and the dress were for thy verses in my commendation.’” “May Allah show small mercy to my father,” exclaimed I, “for knowing the like of thee.” He laughed and ejaculated, “There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God! Glory to Him that changeth and is changed not! I took thee for a man of sense, but I see thou babblest and dotest for illness. Allah hath said in the Blessed Book,1 ‘Paradise is prepared for the goodly who bridle their anger and forgive men.’ and so forth; and in any case thou art excused. Yet I cannot conceive the cause of thy hurry and flurry; and thou must know that thy father and thy grandfather did nothing without consulting me, and indeed it hath been said truly enough, ‘Let the adviser be prized’; and, ‘There is no vice in advice’; and it is also said in certain saws, ‘Whoso hath no counsellor elder than he, will never himself an elder be’;2 and the poet says:—
Whatever needful thing thou undertake,
Consult th’ experienced and contraire him not!
And indeed thou shalt never find a man better versed in affairs than I, and I am here standing on my feet to serve thee. I am not vexed with thee: why shouldest thou be vexed with me? But whatever happen I will bear patiently with thee in memory of the much kindness thy father shewed me.” “By Allah,” cried I, “O thou with tongue long as the tail of a jackass, thou persistest in pestering me with thy prate and thou becomest more longsome in thy long speeches, when all I want of thee is to shave my head and wend thy way!” Then he lathered my head saying, “I perceive thou art vexed with me, but I will not take it ill of thee, for thy wit is weak and thou art but a laddy: it was only yesterday I used to take thee on my shoulder3 and carry thee to school.’ “O my brother,” said I, “for Allah’s sake do what I want and go thy gait!” And I rent my garments.4 When he saw me do this he took the razor and fell to sharpening it and gave not over stropping it until my senses were well nigh leaving me. Then he came up to me and shaved part of my head; then he held his hand and then he said, “O my lord, haste is Satan’s gait whilst patience is of Allah the Compassionate. But thou, O my master, I ken thou knowest not my rank; for verily this hand alighteth upon the heads of Kings and Emirs and Wazirs, and sages and doctors learned in the law, and the poet said of one like me:—
All crafts are like necklaces strung on a string,
But this Barber’s the union pear of the band:
High over all craftsmen he ranketh, and why?
The heads of the Kings are under his hand!”5
Then said I, “Do leave off talking about what concerneth thee not: indeed thou hast straitened my breast and distracted my mind.” Quoth he, “Meseems thou art a hasty man;” and quoth I, “Yes! yes! yes!” and he, “I rede thee practice restraint of self, for haste is Satan’s pelf which bequeatheth only repentance and ban and bane, and He (upon whom be blessings and peace!) hath said, ‘The best of works is that wherein deliberation lurks;’ but I, by Allah! have some doubt about thine affair; and so I should like thee to let me know what it is thou art in such haste to do, for I fear me it is other than good.” Then he continued, “It wanteth three hours yet to prayer time; but I do not wish to be in doubt upon this matter; nay, I must know the moment exactly, for truly, ‘A guess shot in times of doubt, oft brings harm about;’ especially in the like of me, a superior person whose merits are famous amongst mankind at large; and it doth not befit me to talk at random, as do the common sort of astrologers.” So saying, he threw down the razor and taking up the astrolabe, went forth under the sun and stood there a long time; after which he returned and counting on his fingers said to me, “There remain still to prayer time three full hours and complete, neither more nor yet less, according to the most learned astronomicals and the wisest makers of almanacks.” “Allah upon thee,” cried I, “hold thy tongue with me, for thou breakest my liver in pieces.” So he took the razor and, after sharpening it as before and shaving other two hairs of my head, he again held his hand and said, “I am concerned about thy hastiness and indeed thou wouldst do well to let me into the cause of it; ‘t were the better for thee, as thou knowest that neither thy father nor thy grandfather ever did a single thing save by my advice.” When I saw that there was no escape from him I said to myself, “The time for prayer draws near and I wish to go to her before the folk come out of the mosque. If I am delayed much longer, I know not how to come at her.” Then said I aloud, “Be quick and stint this talk and impertinence, for I have to go to a party at the house of some of my intimates.” When he heard me speak of the party, he said, “This thy day is a blessed day for me! In very sooth it was but yesterday I invited a company of my friends and I have forgotten to provide anything for them to eat. This very moment I was thinking of it: Alas, how I shall be disgraced in their eyes!” “Be not distressed about this matter,” answered I; “have I not told thee that I am bidden to an entertainment this day? So every thing in my house, eatable and drinkable, shall be thine, if thou wilt only get through thy work and make haste to shave my head.” He replied, “Allah requite thee with good! Specify to me what is in thy house for my guests that I may be ware of it.” Quoth I, “Five dishes of meat and ten chickens with reddened breasts6 and a roasted lamb.” “Set them before me,” quoth he “that I may see them.” So I told my people to buy, borrow or steal them and bring them in anywise, And had all this set before him. When he saw it he cried, “The wine is wanting,” and I replied, “I have a flagon or two of good old grape — juice in the house,” and he said, “Have it brought out!” So I sent for it and he exclaimed, “Allah bless thee for a generous disposition! But there are still the essences and perfumes.” So I bade them set before him a box containing Nadd,7 the best of compound perfumes, together with fine lign-aloes, ambergris and musk unmixed, the whole worth fifty dinars. Now the time waxed strait and my heart straitened with it; so I said to him, “Take it all and finish shaving my head by the life of Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!).” “By Allah,” said he, “I will not take it till I see all that is in it.” So I bade the page open the box and the Barber laid down the astrolabe, leaving the greater part of my head unpolled; and, sitting on the ground, turned over the scents and incense and aloes wood and essences till I was well nigh distraught. Then he took the razor and coming up to me shaved off some few hairs and repeated these lines:—
“The boy like his father shall surely show,
As the tree from its parent root shall grow.”8
Then said he, “By Allah, O my son, I know not whether to thank thee or thy father; for my entertainment this day is all due to thy bounty and beneficence; and, although none of my company be worthy of it, yet I have a set of honourable men, to wit Zantut the bath-keeper and Sali’a the corn-chandler; and Silat the bean-seller; and Akrashah the greengrocer; and Humayd the scavenger; and Sa’id the camel-man; and Suwayd the porter; and Abu Makarish the bathman;9 and Kasim the watchman; and Karim the groom. There is not among the whole of them a bore or a bully in his cups; nor a meddler nor a miser of his money, and each and every hath some dance which he danceth and some of his own couplets which he caroleth; and the best of them is that, like thy servant, thy slave here, they know not what much talking is nor what forwardness means. The bath keeper sings to the tom-tom10 a song which enchants; and he stands up and dances and chants,
‘I am going, O mammy, to fill up my pot.’
As for the corn-chandler he brings more skill to it than any; he dances and sings,
‘O Keener,11 0 sweetheart, thou fallest not short’
and he leaves no one’s vitals sound for laughing at him. But the scavenger sings so that the birds stop to listen to him and dances and sings,
‘News my wife wots is not locked in a box!’12
And he hath privilege, for ’tis a shrewd rogue13 and a witty; and speaking of his excellence I am wont to say,
My life for the scavenger! right well I love him,
Like a waving bough he is sweet to my sight:
Fate joined us one night, when to him quoth I
(The while I grew weak and love gained more might)
‘Thy love burns my heart!’ ‘And no wonder,’ quoth he
‘When the drawer of dung turns a stoker wight.’14
And indeed each is perfect in whatso can charm the wit with joy and jollity;” adding presently, “But hearing is not seeing; and indeed if thou make up thy mind to join us and put off going to thy friends, ’twill be better for us and for thee. The traces of illness are yet upon thee and haply thou art going among folk who be mighty talkers, men who commune together of what concerneth them not; or there may be amongst them some forward fellow who will split thy head, and thou half thy size from sickness.” “This shall be for some other day,” answered I, and laughed with heart angered: “finish thy work and go, in Allah Almighty’s guard, to thy friends, for they will be expecting thy coming.” “O my lord,” replied he, “I seek only to introduce thee to these fellows of infinite mirth, the sons of men of worth, amongst whom there is neither procacity nor dicacity nor loquacity; for never, since I grew to years of discretion, could I endure to consort with one who asketh questions concerning what concerneth him not, nor have I ever frequented any save those who are, like myself, men of few words. In sooth if thou were to company with them or even to see them once, thou wouldst forsake all thy intimates.” “Allah fulfil thy joyance with them,” said I, “needs must I come amongst them some day or other.” But he said, “Would it were this very day, for I had set my heart upon thy making one of us; yet if thou must go to thy friends to day, I will take these good things, wherewith thou hast honoured and favoured me, to my guests and leave them to eat and drink and not wait for me; whilst I will return to thee in haste and accompany thee to thy little party; for there is no ceremony between me and my intimates to prevent my leaving them. Fear not, I will soon be back with thee and wend with thee whithersoever thou wendest. There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” I shouted, “Go thou to thy friends and make merry with them; and do let me go to mine and be with them this day, for they expect me.” But the Barber cried, “I will not let thee go alone;” and I replied, “The truth is none can enter where I am going save myself.” He rejoined, “I suspect that to day thou art for an assignation with some woman, else thou hadst taken me with thee; yet am I the right man to take, one who could aid thee to the end thou wishest. But I fear me thou art running after strange women and thou wilt lose thy life; for in this our city of Baghdad one cannot do any thing in this line, especially on a day like Friday: our Governor is an angry man and a mighty sharp blade.” “Shame on thee, thou wicked, bad, old man!” cried I, “Be off! what words are these thou givest me?” “O cold of wit,”15 cried he, “thou sayest to me what is not true and thou hidest thy mind from me, but I know the whole business for certain and I seek only to help thee this day with my best endeavour.” I was fearful lest my people or my neighbours should hear the Barber’s talk, so I kept silence for a long time whilst he finished shaving my head; by which time the hour of prayer was come and the Khutbah, or sermon, was about to follow. When he had done, I said to him, “Go to thy friends with their meat and drink, and I will await thy return. Then we will fare together.” In this way I hoped to pour oil on troubled waters and to trick the accursed loon, so haply I might get quit of him; but he said, “Thou art cozening me and thou wouldst go alone to thy appointment and cast thyself into jeopardy, whence there will be no escape for thee. Now by Allah! and again by Allah! do not go till I return, that I may accompany thee and watch the issue of thine affair.” “So be it,” I replied, “do not be long absent.” Then he took all the meat and drink I had given him and the rest of it and went out of my house; but the accursed carle gave it in charge of a porter to carry to his home but hid himself in one of the alleys. As for me I rose on the instant, for the Muezzins had already called the Salam of Friday, the salute to the Apostle;16 and I dressed in haste and went out alone and, hurrying to the street, took my stand by the house wherein I had seen the young lady. I found the old woman on guard at the door awaiting me, and went up with her to the upper story, the damsel’s apartment. Hardly had I reached it when behold, the master of the house returned from prayers and entering the great saloon, closed the door. I looked down from the window and saw this Barber (Allah’s curse upon him!) sitting over against the door and said, “How did this devil find me out?” At this very moment, as Allah had decreed it for rending my veil of secrecy, it so happened that a handmaid of the house master committed some offence for which he beat her. She shrieked out and his slave ran in to intercede for her, whereupon the Kazi beat him to boot, and he also roared out. The damned Barber fancied that it was I who was being beaten; so he also fell to shouting and tore his garments and scattered dust on his head and kept on shrieking and crying “Help! Help!” So the people came round about him and he went on yelling, “My master is being murdered in the Kazi’s house!” Then he ran clamouring to my place with the folk after him, and told my people and servants and slaves; and, before I knew what was doing, up they came tearing their clothes and letting loose their hair17 and shouting, “Alas, our master!”; and this Barber leading the rout with his clothes rent and in sorriest plight; and he also shouting like a madman and saying, “Alas for our murdered master!” And they all made an assault upon the house in which I was. The Kazi, hearing the yells and the uproar at his door, said to one of his servants, “See what is the matter”; and the man went forth and returned and said, “O my master, at the gate there are more than ten thousand souls what with men and women, and all crying out, ‘Alas for our murdered master!’; and they keep pointing to our house.” When the Kazi heard this, the matter seemed serious and he waxed wroth; so he rose and opening the door saw a great crowd of people; whereat he was astounded and said, “O folk! what is there to do?” “O accursed! O dog! O hog!” my servants replied; “’Tis thou who hast killed our master!” Quoth he, “O good folk, and what hath your master done to me that I should kill him?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Chap. iii., 128. See Sale (in loco) for the noble application of this text by the Imam Hasan, son of the Caliph Ali.
2 These proverbs at once remind us of our old friend Sancho Panza and are equally true to nature in the mouth of the Arab and of the Spaniard.
3 Our nurses always carry in the arms: Arabs place the children astraddle upon the hip and when older on the shoulder.
4 Eastern clothes allow this biblical display of sorrow and vexation, which with our European garb would look absurd: we must satisfy ourselves with maltreating our hats
5 Koran xlviii., 8. It may be observed that according to the Ahádis (sayings of the Prophet) and the Sunnat (sayings and doings of Mahommed), all the hair should be allowed to grow or the whole head be clean shaven. Hence the “Shúshah,” or topknot, supposed to be left as a handle for drawing the wearer into Paradise, and the Zulf, or side-locks, somewhat like the ringlets of the Polish Jews, are both vain “Bida’at,” or innovations, and therefore technically termed “Makrúh,” a practice not laudable, neither “Halál” (perfectly lawful) nor “Harám” (forbidden by the law). When boys are first shaved generally in the second or third year, a tuft is left on the crown and another over the forehead; but this is not the fashion amongst adults. Abu Hanifah, if I am rightly informed, wrote a treatise on the Shushah or long lock growing from the Násiyah (head-poll) which is also a precaution lest the decapitated Moslem’s mouth be defiled by an impure hand; and thus it would resemble the chivalry lock by which the Redskin brave (and even the “cowboy” of better times) facilitated the removal of his own scalp. Possibly the Turks had learned the practice from the Chinese and introduced it into Baghdad (Pilgrimage i., 240). The Badawi plait their locks in Kurún (horns) or Jadáil (ringlets) which are undone only to be washed with the water of the she-camel. The wild Sherifs wear Haffah, long elf-locks hanging down both sides of the throat, and shaved away about a finger’s breadth round the forehead and behind the neck (Pilgrimage iii., 35–36). I have elsewhere noted the accroche-cœurs, the “idiot fringe,” etc.
6 Meats are rarely coloured in modern days; but Persian cooks are great adepts in staining rice for the “Puláo (which we call after its Turkish corruption “pilaff”): it sometimes appears in rainbow-colours, red, yellow and blue; and in India is covered with gold and silver leaf. Europe retains the practice in tinting Pasch (Easter) eggs, the survival of the mundane ovum which was hatched at Easter-tide; and they are dyed red in allusion to the Blood of Redemption.
7 As I have noticed, this is a mixture.
8 We say:—
Tis rare the father in the son we see:
He sometimes rises in the third degree.
9 Arab. “Ballán” i.e. the body-servant: “Ballánah” is a tire-woman.
10 Arab. “Darabukkah” a drum made of wood or earthen-ware (Lane, M. E., xviii.), and used by all in Egypt.
11 Arab. “Naihah” more generally “Naddábah” Lat. præfica or carina, a hired mourner, the Irish “Keener” at the conclamatio or coronach, where the Hullabaloo, Hulululu or Ululoo showed the survivors’ sorrow.
12 These doggerels, which are like our street melodies, are now forgotten and others have taken their place. A few years ago one often heard, “Dus ya lalli” (Tread, O my joy) and “Názil il’al-Ganínah” (Down into the garden) and these in due turn became obsolete. Lane (M. E. chaps. xviii.) gives the former e.g.
Tread, O my joy! Tread, O my joy!
Love of my love brings sore annoy,
A chorus to such stanzas as:—
Alexandrian damsels rare!
Daintily o’er the floor ye fare:
Your lips are sweet, are sugar-sweet,
And purfled Cashmere shawls ye wear!
It may be noted that “humming” is not a favourite practice with Moslems; if one of the company begin, another will say, “Go to the Kahwah” (the coffee-house, the proper music-hall) “and sing there!” I have elsewhere observed their dislike to Al-sifr or whistling.
13 Arab. Khalí‘a = worn out, crafty, an outlaw; used like Span. “Perdido.”
14 “Zabbál” is the scavenger, lit. a dung-drawer, especially for the use of the Hammam which is heated with the droppings of animals. “Wakkád” (stoker) is the servant who turns the fire. The verses are mere nonsense to suit the Barber’s humour.
15 Arab. “Yá bárid” = O fool.
16 This form of blessing is chanted from the Minaret about half-an-hour before midday, when the worshippers take their places in the mosque. At noon there is the usual Azán or prayer-call, and each man performs a two-bow, in honour of the mosque and its gathering, as it were. The Prophet is then blessed and a second Salám is called from the raised ambo or platform (dikkah) by the divines who repeat the midday-call. Then an Imam recites the first Khutbah, or sermon “of praise”; and the congregation worships in silence. This is followed by the second exhortation “of Wa’az,” dispensing the words of wisdom. The Imam now stands up before the Mihráb (prayer niche) and recites the Ikámah which is the common Azan with one only difference: after “Hie ye to salvation” it adds “Come is the time of supplication;” whence the name, “causing” (prayer) “to stand” (i.e., to begin). Hereupon the worshippers recite the Farz or Koran commanded noon-prayer of Friday; and the unco’ guid add a host of superogatories Those who would study the subject may consult Lane (M. E. chaps. iii. and its abstract in his “Arabian Nights,” I, p. 430, or note 69 to chaps. v.).
17 i.e., the women loosed their hair; an immodesty sanctioned only by a great calamity.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Kazi said to the servants, “What hath your master done to me that I should kill him? This is my house and it is open to you all.” Then quoth the Barber, “Thou didst beat him and I heard him cry out;” and quoth the Kazi, “But what was he doing that I should beat him, and what brought him in to my house; and whence came he and whither went he?” “Be not a wicked, perverse old man!” cried the Barber, “for I know the whole story; and the long and short of it is that thy daughter is in love with him and he loves her; and when thou knewest that he had entered the house, thou badest thy servants beat him and they did so: by Allah, none shall judge between us and thee but the Caliph; or else do thou bring out our master that his folk may take him, before they go in and save him perforce from thy house, and thou be put to shame.” Then said the Kazi (and his tongue was bridled and his mouth was stopped by confusion before the people), “An thou say sooth, do thou come in and fetch him out.” Whereupon the Barber pushed forward and entered the house. When I saw this I looked about for a means of escape and flight, but saw no hiding place except a great chest in the upper chamber where I was. So I got into it and pulled the lid down upon myself and held my breath. The Barber was hardly in the room before he began to look about for me, then turned him right and left and came straight to the place where I was, and stepped up to the chest and, lifting it on his head, made off as fast as he could. At this, my reason forsook me, for I knew that he would not let me be; so I took courage and opening the chest threw myself to the ground. My leg was broken in the fall, and the door being open I saw a great concourse of people looking in. Now I carried in my sleeve much gold and some silver, which I had provided for an ill day like this and the like of such occasion; so I kept scattering it amongst the folk to divert their attention from me and, whilst they were busy scrambling for it, I set off, hopping as fast as I could, through the by streets of Baghdad, shifting and turning right and left. But whithersoever I went this damned Barber would go in after me, crying aloud, “They would have bereft me of my master! They would have slain him who was a benefactor to me and my family and my friends! Praised be Allah who made me prevail against them and delivered my lord from their hands!” Then to me, “Where wilt thou go now? Thou wouldst persist in following thine own evil devices, till thou broughtest thyself to this ill pass; and, had not Allah vouchsafed me to thee, ne’er hadst thou escaped this strait into which thou hast fallen, for they would have cast thee into a calamity whence thou never couldest have won free. But I will not call thee to account for thine ignorance, as thou art so little of wit and inconsequential and addicted to hastiness!” Said I to him, “Doth not what thou hast brought upon me suffice thee, but thou must run after me and talk me such talk in the bazaar streets?” And I well nigh gave up the ghost for excess of rage against him. Then I took refuge in the shop of a weaver amiddlemost of the market and sought protection of the owner who drove the Barber away; and, sitting in the back room,1 I said to myself, “If I return home I shall never be able to get rid of this curse of a Barber, who will be with me night and day; and I cannot endure the sight of him even for a breathing space.” So I sent out at once for witnesses and made a will, dividing the greater part of my property among my people, and appointed a guardian over them, to whom I committed the charge of great and small, directing him to sell my houses and domains. Then I set out on my travels that I might be free of this pimp;2 and I came to settle in your town where I have lived some time. When you invited me and I came hither, the first thing I saw was this accursed pander seated in the place of honour. How then can my heart be glad and my stay be pleasant in company with this fellow who brought all this upon me, and who was the cause of the breaking of my leg and of my exile from home and native land. And the youth refused to sit down and went away. When we heard his story (continued the Tailor) we were amazed beyond measure and amused and said to the Barber, “By Allah, is it true what this young man saith of thee?” “By Allah,” replied he, “I dealt thus by him of my courtesy and sound sense and generosity. Had it not been for me he had perished and none but I was the cause of his escape. Well it was for him that he suffered in his leg and not in his life! Had I been a man of many words, a meddler, a busy body, I had not acted thus kindly by him; but now I will tell you a tale which befell me, that you may be well assured I am a man sparing of speech in whom is no forwardness and a very different person from those six Brothers of mine; and this it is.”
I was living in Baghdad during the times of Al–Mustansir bi’llah,1 Son of Al–Mustazi bi’llah the then Caliph, a prince who loved the poor and needy and companied with the learned and pious. One day it happened to him that he was wroth with ten persons, highwaymen who robbed on the Caliph’s highway, and he ordered the Prefect of Baghdad to bring them into the presence on the anniversary of the Great Festival.2 So the Prefect sallied out and, making them His prisoners, embarked with them in a boat. I caught sight of them as they were embarking and said to myself, “These are surely assembled for a marriage feast; methinks they are spending their day in that boat eating and drinking, and none shall be companion of their cups but I myself.” So I rose, O fair assembly; and, of the excess of my courtesy and the gravity of my understanding, I embarked with them and entered into conversation with them. They rowed across to the opposite bank, where they landed and there came up the watch and guardians of the peace with chains, which they put round the robbers’ necks. They chained me among the rest of them; and, O people, is it not a proof of my courtesy and spareness of speech, that I held my peace and did not please to speak? Then they took us away in bilbos and next morning carried us all before Al — Mustansir bi’llah, Commander of the Faithful, who bade smite the necks of the ten robbers. So the Sworder came forward after they were seated on the leather of blood;3 then drawing his blade, struck off one head after another until he had smitten the neck of the tenth; and I alone remained. The Caliph looked at me and asked the Heads man, saying, “What ails thee that thou hast struck off only nine heads?”; and he answered, “Allah forbid that I should behead only nine, when thou biddest me behead ten!” Quoth the Caliph, “Meseems thou hast smitten the necks of only nine, and this man before thee is the tenth.” “By thy beneficence!” replied the Headsman, “I have beheaded ten.” “Count them!” cried the Caliph and whenas they counted heads, lo! there were ten. The Caliph looked at me and said, “What made thee keep silence at a time like this and how camest thou to company with these men of blood? Tell me the cause of all this, for albeit thou art a very old man, assuredly thy wits are weak.” Now when I heard these words from the Caliph I sprang to my feet and replied, “Know, O Prince of the Faithful, that I am the Silent Shaykh and am thus called to distinguish me from my six brothers. I am a man of immense learning whilst, as for the gravity of my understanding, the wiliness of my wits and the spareness of my speech, there is no end of them; and my calling is that of a barber. I went out early on yesterday morning and saw these men making for a skiff; and, fancying they were bound for a marriage feast, I joined them and mixed with them. After a while up came the watch and guardians of the peace, who put chains round their necks and round mine with the rest; but, in the excess of my courtesy, I held my peace and spake not a word; nor was this other but generosity on my part. They brought us into thy presence, and thou gayest an order to smite the necks of the ten; yet did I not make myself known to thee and remained silent before the Sworder, purely of my great generosity and courtesy which led me to share with them in their death. But all my life long have I dealt thus nobly with mankind, and they requite me the foulest and evillest requital!” When the Caliph heard my words and knew that I was a man of exceeding generosity and of very few words, one in whom is no forwardness (as this youth would have it whom I rescued from mortal risk and who hath so scurvily repaid me), he laughed with excessive laughter till he fell upon his back. Then said he to me, “O Silent Man, do thy six brothers favour thee in wisdom and knowledge and spareness of speech?” I replied, “Never were they like me! Thou puttest reproach upon me, O Commander of the Faithful, and it becomes thee not to even my brothers with me; for, of the abundance of their speech and their deficiency of courtesy and gravity, each one of them hath gotten some maim or other. One is a monocular, another palsied, a third stone blind, a fourth cropped of ears and nose and a fifth shorn of both lips, while the sixth is a hunchback and a cripple. And conceive not, O Commander of the Faithful, that I am prodigal of speech; but I must perforce explain to thee that I am a man of greater worth and fewer words than any of them. From each one of my brothers hangs a tale of how he came by his bodily defect and these I will relate to thee.” So the Caliph gave ear to
1 i.e., “one seeking assistance in Allah.” He was the son of Al-Záhir bi’lláh (one pre-eminent by the decree of Allah). Lane says (i. 430), “great — grandson of Harun al-Rashid,” alluding to the first Mustansir son of Al–Mutawakkil (regn. A.H. 247–248 =861–862). But this is the 56th Abbaside and regn. A. H. 623–640 (= 1226–1242).
2 Arab. “Yaum al-Id,” the Kurban Bairam of the Turks, the Pilgrimage festival. The story is historical. In the “Akd,” a miscellany compiled by Ibn Abd Rabbuh (vulg. Rabbi-hi) of Cordova, who ob. A. H. 328 = 940 we read:— A sponger found ten criminals and followed them, imagining they were going to a feast; but lo, they were going to their deaths! And when they were slain and he remained, he was brought before the Khalifah (Al Maamun) and Ibrahim son of Al — Mahdi related a tale to procure pardon for the man, whereupon the Khalifah pardoned him. (Lane ii., 506.)
3 Arab. “Nate’ al-Dam”; the former word was noticed in the Tale of the Bull and the Ass. The leather of blood was not unlike the Sufrah and could be folded into a bag by a string running through rings round the edges. Moslem executioners were very expert and seldom failed to strike off the head with a single blow of the thin narrow blade with razor-edge, hard as diamond withal, which contrasted so strongly with the great coarse chopper of the European headsman.
Know then, O Commander of the Faithful, that my first brother, Al Bakbuk, the Prattler, is a Hunchback who took to tailoring in Baghdad, and he used to sew in a shop hired from a man of much wealth, who dwelt over the shop,1 and there was also a flour-mill in the basement. One day as my brother, the Hunchback, was sitting in his shop a tailoring, he chanced to raise his head and saw a lady like the rising full moon at a balconied window of his landlord’s house, engaged in looking out at the passers by.2 When my brother beheld her, his heart was taken with love of her and he passed his whole day gazing at her and neglected his tailoring till eventide. Next morning he opened his shop and sat him down to sew; but, as often as he stitched a stitch, he looked to the window and saw her as before; and his passion and infatuation for her increased. On the third day as he was sitting in his usual place gazing on her, she caught sight of him and, perceiving that he had been captivated with love of her, laughed in his face3 and he smiled back at her. Then she disappeared and presently sent her slave girl to him with a bundle containing a piece of red cowered silk. The handmaid accosted him and said, “My lady salameth to thee and desireth thee, of thy skill and good will, to fashion for her a shift of this piece and to sew it handsomely with thy best sewing. He replied, “Hearkening and obedience”; and shaped for her a chemise and finished sewing it the same day. When the morning morrowed the girl came back and said to him, “My lady salameth to thee and asks how thou hast passed yesternight; for she hath not tasted sleep by reason of her heart being taken up with thee. Then she laid before him a piece of yellow satin and said, My lady biddeth thee cut her two pair of petticoat trousers out of this piece and sew them this very day.” “Hearkening and obedience!’ replied he, “greet her for me with many greetings and say to her, Thy slave is obedient to thine order; so command him as thou wilt.” Then he applied himself to cutting out and worked hard at sewing the trousers; and after an hour the lady appeared at the lattice and saluted him by signs, now casting down her eyes, then smiling in his face, and he began to assure himself that he would soon make a conquest. She did not let him stir till he had finished the two pair of trousers, when she with drew and sent the handmaid to whom he delivered them; and she took them and went her ways. When it was night, he threw himself on his carpet bed, and lay tossing about from side to side till morning, when he rose and sat down in his place. Presently the damsel came to him and said, “My master calleth for thee.” Hearing these words he feared with exceeding fear; but the slave girl, seeing his affright, said to him, “No evil is meant to thee: naught but good awaiteth thee. My lady would have thee make acquaintance with my lord.” So my brother the tailor, rejoicing with great joy, went with her; and when he came into the presence of his landlord, the lady’s husband, he kissed the ground before him, and the master of the house returned his greeting andgave him a great piece of linen saying, “Shape me shirts out of this stuff and sew them well;” and my brother answered, “To hear is to obey.” Thereupon he fell to work at once, snipping, shaping and sewing till he had finished twenty shirts by supper time, without stopping to taste food. The house master asked him, “How much the wage for this?”; and he answered, “Twenty dirhams.” So the gentleman cried out to the slave girl, “Bring me twenty dirhams,” and my brother spake not a word; but the lady signed, “Take nothing from him;’ whereupon my brother said, “By Allah I will take naught from thy hand. And he carried off his tailor’s gear and returned to his shop, although he was destitute even to a red cent.4 Then he applied himself to do their work; eating, in his zeal and diligence, but a bit of bread and drinking only a little water for three days. At the end of this time came the handmaid and said to him, “What hast thou done?” Quoth he, “They are finished,” and carried the shirts to the lady’s husband, who would have paid him his hire: but he said, “I will take nothing,” for fear of her and, returning to his shop, passed the night without sleep because of his hunger. Now the dame had informed her husband how the case stood (my brother knowing naught of this); and the two had agreed to make him tailor for nothing, the better to mock and laugh at him. Next morning he went to his shop, and, as he sat there, the handmaid came to him and said, “Speak with my master.” So he accompanied her to the husband who said to him, “I wish thee to cut out for me five long sleeved robes.”5 So he cut them out6 and took the stuff and went away. Then he sewed them and carried them to the gentleman, who praised his sewing and offered him a purse of silver. He put out his hand to take it, but the lady signed to him from behind her husband not to do so, and he replied, “O my lord, there is no hurry, we have time enough for this.” Then he went forth from the house meaner and meeker than a donkey, for verily five things were gathered together in him viz.: love, beggary, hunger, nakedness and hard labour. Nevertheless he heartened himself with the hope of gaining the lady’s favours. When he had made an end of all their jobs, they played him another trick and married him to their slave girl; but, on the night when he thought to go in to her, they said to him, “Lie this night in the mill; and to morrow all will go well.” My brother concluded that there was some good cause for this and nighted alone in the mill. Now the husband had set on the miller to make the tailor turn the mill: so when night was half spent the man came in to him and began to say, “This bull of ours hath be come useless and standeth still instead of going round: he will not turn the mill this night, and yet we have great store of corn to be ground. However, I’ll yoke him perforce and make him finish grinding it before morning, as the folk are impatient for their flour.” So he filled the hoppers with grain and, going up to my brother with a rope in his hand, tied it round his neck and said to him, “Gee up! Round with the mill! thou, O bull, wouldst do nothing but grub and stale and dung!” Then he took a whip and laid it on the shoulders and calves of my brother, who began to howl and bellow; but none came to help him; and he was forced to grind the wheat till hard upon dawn, when the house master came in and, seeing my brother still tethered to the yoke and the man flogging him, went away. At day break the miller returned home and left him still yoked and half dead; and soon after in came the slave girl who unbound him, and said to him, “I and my lady are right sorry for what hath happened and we have borne thy grief with thee.” But he had no tongue wherewith to answer her from excess of beating and mill turning. Then he retired to his lodging and behold, the clerk who had drawn up the marriage deed came to him7 and saluted him, saying, “Allah give thee long life! May thy espousal be blessed! This face telleth of pleasant doings and dalliance and kissing and clipping from dusk to dawn.” “Allah grant the liar no peace, O thou thousandfold cuckold!”, my brother replied, “by Allah, I did nothing but turn the mill in the place of the bull all night till morning!” “Tell me thy tale,” quoth he; and my brother recounted what had befallen him and he said, “Thy star agrees not with her star; but an thou wilt I can alter the contract for thee,” adding, “‘Ware lest another cheat be not in store for thee.” And my brother answered him, “See if thou have not another contrivance.” Then the clerk left him and he sat in his shop, looking for some one to bring him a job whereby he might earn his day’s bread. Presently the handmaid came to him and said, “Speak with my lady.” “Begone, O my good girl,” replied he, “there shall be no more dealings between me and thy lady.” The handmaid returned to her mistress and told her what my brother had said and presently she put her head out of the window, weeping and saying, “Why, O my beloved, are there to be no more dealings ‘twixt me and thee?” But he made her no answer. Then she wept and conjured him, swearing that all which had befallen him in the mill was not sanctioned by her and that she was innocent of the whole matter. When he looked upon her beauty and loveliness and heard the sweetness of her speech, the sorrow which had possessed him passed from his heart; he accepted her excuse and he rejoiced in her sight. So he saluted her and talked with her and sat tailoring awhile, after which the handmaid came to him and said, “My mistress greeteth thee and informeth thee that her husband purposeth to lie abroad this night in the house of some intimate friends of his; so, when he is gone, do thou come to us and spend the night with my lady in delightsomest joyance till the morning.” Now her husband had asked her, “How shall we manage to turn him away from thee?”; and she answered, “Leave me to play him another trick and make him a laughing stock for all the town.” But my brother knew naught of the malice of women. As soon as it was dusk, the slave girl came to him and carried him to the house, and when the lady saw him she said to him, “By Allah, O my lord, I have been longing exceedingly for thee.” “By Allah,” cried he, “kiss me quick before thou give me aught else.”8 Hardly had he spoken, when the lady’s husband came in from the next room9 and seized him, saying, “By Allah, I will not let thee go, till I deliver thee to the chief of the town watch.” My brother humbled himself to him; but he would not listen to him and carried him before the Prefect who gave him an hundred lashes with a whip and, mounting him on a camel, promenaded him round about the city, whilst the guards proclaimed aloud, “This is his reward who violateth the Harims of honourable men!” Moreover, he fell off the camel and broke his leg and so became lame. Then the Prefect banished him from the city; and he went forth unknowing whither he should wend; but I heard of him and fearing for him went out after him and brought him back secretly to the city and restored him to health and took him into my house where he still liveth. The Caliph laughed at my story and said, “Thou hast done well, O Samit, O Silent Man, O spare of speech!”; and he bade me take a present and go away. But I said, “I will accept naught of thee except I tell thee what befell all my other brothers; and do not think me a man of many words.” So the Caliph gave ear to
1 The ground floor, which in all hot countries is held, and rightly so, unwholesome during sleep, is usually let for shops. This is also the case throughout Southern Europe, and extends to the Canary Islands and the Brazil.
2 This serious contemplation of street-scenery is one of the pleasures of the Harems.
3 We should say “smiled at him”: the laugh was not intended as an affront.
4 Arab. “Fals ahmar.” Fals is a fish-scale, also the smaller coin and the plural “Fulús” is the vulgar term for money (= Ital. quattrini ) without specifying the coin. It must not be confounded with the “Fazzah,” alias “Nuss,” alias “Páráh” (Turk.); the latter being made, not of “red copper” but of a vile alloy containing, like the Greek “Asper,” some silver; and representing, when at par, the fortieth of a piastre, the latter=2d. 2/5ths.
5 Arab “Farajiyah “ a long-sleeved robe; Lane’s “Farageeyeh,” (M. E., chaps. i)
6 The tailor in the East, as in Southern Europe, is made to cut out the cloth in presence of its owner, to prevent “cabbaging.”
7 Expecting a present.
8 Alluding to the saying, “Kiss is the key to Kitty.”
9 The “panel-dodge” is fatally common throughout the East, where a man found in the house of another is helpless.
Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that my second brother’s name was Al–Haddar, that is the Babbler, and he was the paralytic. Now it happened to him one day, as he was going about his business, that an old woman accosted him and said, “Stop a little, my good man, that I may tell thee of somewhat which, if it be to thy liking, thou shalt do for me and I will pray Allah to give thee good of it!” My brother stopped and she went on, “I will put thee in the way of a certain thing, so thou not be prodigal of speech.” “On with thy talk,” quoth he; and she, “What sayest thou to handsome quarters and a fair garden with flowing waters, flowers blooming, and fruit growing, and old wine going and a pretty young face whose owner thou mayest embrace from dark till dawn? If thou do whatso I bid thee thou shalt see something greatly to thy advantage.” “And is all this in the world?” asked my brother; and she answered, “Yes, and it shall be thine, so thou be reasonable and leave idle curiosity and many words, and do my bidding.” “I will indeed, O my lady,” said he, “how is it thou hast preferred me in this matter before all men and what is it that so much pleaseth thee in me?” Quoth she, “Did I not bid thee be spare of speech? Hold thy peace and follow me. Know, that the young lady, to whom I shall carry thee, loveth to have her own way and hateth being thwarted and all who gainsay; so, if thou humour her, thou shalt come to thy desire of her.” And my brother said, “I will not cross her in anything.” Then she went on and my brother followed her, an hungering after what she described to him till they entered a fine large house, handsome and choicely furnished, full of eunuchs and servants and showing signs of prosperity from top to bottom. And she was carrying him to the upper story when the people of the house said to him, “What dost thou here?” But the old woman answered them, “Hold your peace and trouble him not: he is a workman and we have occasion for him.” Then she brought him into a fine great pavilion, with a garden in its midst, never eyes saw a fairer; and made him sit upon a handsome couch. He had not sat long, be fore he heard a loud noise and in came a troop of slave girls surrounding a lady like the moon on the night of its fullest. When he saw her, he rose up and made an obeisance to her, whereupon she welcomed him and bade him be seated. So he sat down and she said to him, “Allah advance thee to honour! Is all well with thee?” “O my lady,” he answered, “all with me is right well.” Then she bade bring in food, and they set before her delicate viands; so she sat down to eat, making a show of affection to my brother and jesting with him, though all the while she could not refrain from laughing; but as often as he looked at her, she signed towards her handmaidens as though she were laughing at them. My brother (the ass!) understood nothing; but, in the excess of his ridiculous passion, he fancied that the lady was in love with him and that she would soon grant him his desire. When they had done eating, they set on the wine and there came in ten maidens like moons, with lutes ready strung in their hands, and fell to singing with full voices, sweet and sad, whereupon delight gat hold upon him and he took the cup from the lady’s hands and drank it standing. Then she drank a cup of wine and my brother (still standing) said to her “Health,” and bowed to her. She handed him another cup and he drank it off, when she slapped him hard on the nape of his neck.1 Upon this my brother would have gone out of the house in anger; but the old woman followed him and winked to him to return. So he came back and the lady bade him sit and he sat down without a word. Then she again slapped him on the nape of his neck; and the second slapping did not suffice her, she must needs make all her handmaidens also slap and cuff him, while he kept saying to the old woman, “I never saw aught nicer than this.” She on her side ceased not exclaiming, “Enough, enough, I conjure thee, O my mistress!”; but the women slapped him till he well nigh swooned away. Presently my brother rose and went out to obey a call of nature, but the old woman overtook him, and said, “Be patient a little and thou shalt win to thy wish.” “How much longer have I to wait,” my brother replied, “this slapping hath made me feel faint.” “As soon as she is warm with wine,” answered she, “thou shalt have thy desire.” So he returned to his place and sat down, where upon all the handmaidens stood up and the lady bade them perfume him with pastiles and besprinkle his face with rose-water. Then said she to him, “Allah advance thee to honour! Thou hast entered my house and hast borne with my conditions, for whoso thwarteth me I turn him away, and whoso is patient hath his desire.” “O mistress mine,” said he, “I am thy slave and in the hollow of thine hand!” “Know, then,” continued she, “that Allah hath made me passionately fond of frolic; and whoso falleth in with my humour cometh by whatso he wisheth.” Then she ordered her maidens to sing with loud voices till the whole company was delighted; after which she said to one of them, “Take thy lord, and do what is needful for him and bring him back to me forthright.” So the damsel took my brother (and he not knowing what she would do with him); but the old woman overtook him and said, “Be patient; there remaineth but little to do.” At this his face brightened and he stood up before the lady while the old woman kept saying, “Be patient; thou wilt now at once win to thy wish!”; till he said, “Tell me what she would have the maiden do with me?” “Nothing but good,” replied she, “as I am thy sacrifice! She wisheth only to dye thy eyebrows and pluck out thy mustachios.” Quoth he, “As for the dyeing of my eye brows, that will come off with washing,2 but for the plucking out of my mustachios, that indeed is a somewhat painful process.” “Be cautious how thou cross her,” cried the old woman; “for she hath set her heart on thee.” So my brother patiently suffered her to dye his eyebrows and pluck out his mustachios, after which the maiden returned to her mistress and told her. Quoth she “Remaineth now only one other thing to be done; thou must shave his beard and make him a smooth o’ face.”3 So the maiden went back and told him what her mistress had bidden her do; and my brother (the blockhead!) said to her, “How shall I do what will disgrace me before the folk?” But the old woman said, “She would do on this wise only that thou mayst be as a beardless youth and that no hair be left on thy face to scratch and prick her delicate cheeks; for indeed she is passionately in love with thee. So be patient and thou shalt attain thine object.” My brother was patient and did her bidding and let shave off his beard and, when he was brought back to the lady, lo! he appeared dyed red as to his eyebrows, plucked of both mustachios, shorn of his beard, rouged on both cheeks. At first she was affrighted at him; then she made mockery of him and, laughing till she fell upon her back, said, “O my lord, thou hast indeed won my heart by thy good nature!” Then she conjured him, by her life, to stand up and dance, and he arose, and capered about, and there was not a cushion in the house but she threw it at his head, and in like manner did all her women who also kept pelting him with oranges and lemons and citrons till he fell down senseless from the cuffing on the nape of the neck, the pillowing and the fruit pelting. “Now thou hast attained thy wish,” said the old woman when he came round; “there are no more blows in store for thee and there remaineth but one little thing to do. It is her wont, when she is in her cups, to let no one have her until she put off her dress and trousers and remain stark naked.4 Then she will bid thee doff thy clothes and run; and she will run before thee as if she were flying from thee; and do thou follow her from place to place till thy prickle stands at fullest point, when she will yield to thee;”5 adding, “Strip off thy clothes at once.” So he rose, well nigh lost in ecstasy and, doffing his raiment, showed himself mother naked. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This was the beginning of horseplay which often ends in a bastinado.
2 Hair-dyes, in the East, are all of vegetable matter, henna, indigo — leaves, galls, etc.: our mineral dyes are, happily for them, unknown. Herklots will supply a host of recipes The Egyptian mixture which I quoted in Pilgrimage (ii., 274) is sulphate of iron and ammoniure of iron one part and gall nuts two parts, infused in eight parts of distilled water. It is innocuous but very poor as a dye.
3 Arab. Amrad, etymologically “beardless and handsome,” but often used in a bad sense, to denote an effeminate, a catamite.
4 The Hindus prefer “having the cardinal points as her sole garment.” “Vêtu de climat,” says Madame de Stael. In Paris nude statues are “draped in cerulean blue.” Rabelais (iv.,29) robes King Shrovetide in grey and gold of a comical cut, nothing before, nothing behind, with sleeves of the same.
5 This scene used to be enacted a few years ago in Paris for the benefit of concealed spectators, a young American being the victim. It was put down when one of the lookers-on lost his eye by a pen-knife thrust into the “crevice.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman said to the Barber’s second brother, “Doff thy clothes,” he rose, well nigh lost in ecstasy; and, stripping off his raiment, showed himself mother naked. Whereupon the lady stripped also and said to my brother, “If thou want anything run after me till thou catch me.” Then she set out at a run and he ran after her while she rushed into room after room and rushed out of room after room, my brother scampering after her in a rage of desire like a veritable madman, with yard standing terribly tall. After much of this kind she dashed into a darkened place, and he dashed after her; but suddenly he trod upon a yielding spot, which gave way under his weight; and, before he was aware where he was, he found himself in the midst of a crowded market, part of the bazaar of the leather sellers who were crying the prices of skins and hides and buying and selling. When they saw him in his plight, naked, with standing yard, shorn of beard and mustachios, with eyebrows dyed red, and cheeks ruddied with rouge, they shouted and clapped their hands at him, and set to flogging him with skins upon his bare body till a swoon came over him. Then they threw him on the back of an ass and carried him to the Chief of Police. Quoth the Chief, “What is this?” Quoth they, “This fellow fell suddenly upon us out of the Wazir’s house1 in this state.” So the Prefect gave him an hundred lashes and then banished him from Baghdad. However I went out after him and brought him back secretly into the city and made him a daily allowance for his living: although, were it not for my generous humour, I could not have put up with the like of him.
1 Meaning that the trick had been played by the Wazir’s wife or daughter. I could mention sundry names at Cairo whose charming owners have done worse things than this unseemly frolic.
Then the Caliph gave ear to
My third brother’s name was Al–Fakík, the Gabbler, who was blind. One day Fate and Fortune drove him to a fine large house, and he knocked at the door, desiring speech of its owner that he might beg somewhat of him. Quoth the master of the house, “Who is at the door?” But my brother spake not a word and presently he heard him repeat with a loud voice, “Who is this?” Still he made no answer and immediately heard the master walk to the door and open it and say, “What dost thou want?” My brother answered “Something for Allah Almighty’s sake.”1 “Art thou blind?” asked the man, and my brother answered “Yes.” Quoth the other, “Stretch me out thy hand.” So my brother put out his hand thinking that he would give him something; but he took it and, drawing him into the house, carried him up from stair to stair till they reached the terrace on the house top, my brother thinking the while that he would surely give him something of food or money. Then he asked my brother, “What dost thou want, O blind man?” and he answered, “Something for the Almighty’s sake.” “Allah open for thee some other door!” “O thou! why not say so when I was below stairs?” “O cadger, why not answer me when I first called to thee?” “And what meanest thou to do for me now?” “There is nothing in the house to give thee.” “Then take me down the stair.” “The path is before thee.” So my brother rose and made his way downstairs, till he came within twenty steps of the door, when his foot slipped and he rolled to the bottom and broke his head. Then he went out, unknowing whither to turn, and presently fell in with two other blind men, companions of his, who said to him, “What didst thou gain to day?” He told them what had befallen him and added, “O my brothers, I wish to take some of the money in my hands and provide myself with it.” Now the master of the house had followed him and was listening to what they said; but neither my brother nor his comrades knew of this. So my brother went to his lodging and sat down to await his companions, and the house owner entered after him without being perceived. When the other blind men arrived, my brother said to them, “Bolt the door and search the house lest any stranger have followed us.” The man, hearing this, caught hold of a cord that hung from the ceiling and clung to it, whilst they went round about the house and searched but found no one. So they came back, and, sitting beside my brother, brought out their money which they counted and lo! it was twelve thousand dirhams. Each took what he wanted and they buried the rest in a corner of the room. Then they set on food and sat down, to eat. Presently my brother, hearing a strange pair of jaws munching by his side,2 said to his friends, “There is a stranger amongst us;” and, putting forth his hand, caught hold of that of the house master. Thereupon all fell on him and beat him;3 and when tired of belabouring him they shouted, “O ye Moslems! a thief is come in to us, seeking to take our money!” A crowd gathered around them, whereupon the intruder hung on to them; and complained with them as they complained, and, shutting his eyes like them, so that none might doubt his blindness, cried out, “O Moslems, I take refuge with Allah and the Governor, for I have a matter to make known to him!” Suddenly up came the watch and, laying hands on the whole lot (my brother being amongst them), drove them4 to the Governor’s who set them before him and asked, “What news with you?” Quoth the intruder, “Look and find out for thyself, not a word shall be wrung from us save by torture, so begin by beating me and after me beat this man our leader.”5 And he pointed to my brother. So they threw the man at full length and gave him four hundred sticks on his backside. The beating pained him, whereupon he opened one eye and, as they redoubled their blows, he opened the other eye. When the Governor saw this be said to him, “What have we here, O accursed?”; whereto he replied, “Give me the seal-ring of pardon! We four have shammed blind, and we impose upon people that we may enter houses and look upon the unveiled faces of the women and contrive for their corruption. In this way we have gotten great gain and our store amounts to twelve thousand dirhams. Said I to my company, ‘Give me my share, three thousand;’ but they rose and beat me and took away my money, and I seek refuge with Allah and with thee; better thou have my share than they. So, if thou wouldst know the truth of my words, beat one and every of the others more than thou hast beaten me, and he will surely open his eyes.” The Governor gave orders for the question to begin with my brother, and they bound him to the whipping post,6 and the Governor said, “O scum of the earth, do ye abuse the gracious gifts of Allah and make as if ye were blind!” “Allah! Allah!” cried my brother, “by Allah, there is none among us who can see.” Then they beat him till he swooned away and the Governor cried, “Leave him till he come to and then beat him again.” After this he caused each of the companions to receive more than three hundred sticks, whilst the sham Abraham kept saying to them “Open your eyes or you will be beaten afresh.” At last the man said to the Governor, “Dispatch some one with me to bring thee the money; for these fellows will not open their eyes, lest they incur disgrace before the folk.” So the Governor sent to fetch the money and gave the man his pretended share, three thousand dirhams; and, keeping the rest for himself, banished the three blind men from the city. But I, O Commander of the Faithful, went out and overtaking my brother questioned him of his case; whereupon he told me of what I have told thee; so I brought him secretly into the city, and appointed him (in the strictest privacy) an allowance for meat and drink! The Caliph laughed at my story and said, “Give him a gift and let him go;” but I said, “By Allah! I will take naught till I have made known to the Commander of the Faithful what came to pass with the rest of my brothers; for truly I am a man of few words and spare of speech.” Then the Caliph gave ear to
1 Arab. “Shayyun li’lláhi,” a beggar’s formula = per amor di Dio.
2 Noting how sharp-eared the blind become.
3 The blind in Egypt are notorious for insolence and violence, fanaticism and rapacity. Not a few foreigners have suffered from them (Pilgrimage i., 148). In former times many were blinded in infancy by their mothers, and others blinded themselves to escape conscription or honest hard work. They could always obtain food, especially as Mu’ezzins and were preferred because they could not take advantage of the minaret by spying into their neighbours’ households. The Egyptian race is chronically weak-eyed, the effect of the damp hot climate of the valley, where ophthalmia prevailed even during the pre-Pharaohnic days. The great Sesostris died stone-blind and his successor lost his sight for ten years (Pilgrimage ii., 176). That the Fellahs are now congenitally weak-eyed, may be seen by comparing them with negroes imported from Central Africa. Ophthalmia rages, especially during the damp season, in the lower Nile-valley; and the best cure for it is a fortnight’s trip to the Desert where, despite glare, sand and wind, the eye readily recovers tone.
4 i.e., with kicks and cuffs and blows, as is the custom. (Pilgrimage i., 174.)
5 Arab. Káid (whence “Alcayde”) a word still much used in North Western Africa.
6 Arab. “Sullam” = lit. a ladder; a frame-work of sticks, used by way of our triangles or whipping-posts.
Now as for my fourth brother, O Commander of the Faithful, Al–Kuz al-aswáni, or the long necked Gugglet hight, from his brimming over with words, the same who was blind of one eye, he became a butcher in Baghdad and he sold flesh and fattened rams; and great men and rich bought their meat of him, so that he amassed much wealth and got him cattle and houses. He fared thus a long while, till one day, as he was sitting in his shop, there came up an old man and long o’ the beard, who laid down some silver and said, “Give me meat for this.” He gave him his money s worth of flesh and the oldster went his ways. My brother examined the Shaykh’s silver, and, seeing that the dirhams were white and bright, he set them in a place apart. The greybeard continued to return to the shop regularly for five months, and my brother ceased not to lay up all the coin he received from him in its own box. At last he thought to take out the money to buy sheep; so he opened the box and found in it nothing, save bits of white paper cut round to look like coin;1 so he buffeted his face and cried aloud till the folk gathered about him, whereupon he told them his tale which made them marvel exceedingly. Then he rose as was his wont, and slaughtering a ram hung it up inside his shop; after which he cut off some of the flesh, and hanging it outside kept saying to himself, “O Allah, would the ill omened old fellow but come!” And an hour had not passed before the Shaykh came with his silver in hand; where upon my brother rose and caught hold of him calling out, “Come aid me, O Moslems, and learn my story with this villain!” When the old man heard this, he quietly said to him, “Which will be the better for thee, to let go of me or to be disgraced by me amidst the folk?” “In what wilt thou disgrace me?” “In that thou sellest man’s flesh for mutton!” “Thou liest, thou accursed!” “Nay, he is the accursed who hath a man hanging up by way of meat in his shop. If the matter be as thou sayest, I give thee lawful leave to take my money and my life.” Then the old man cried out aloud, “Ho, ye people! if you would prove the truth of my words, enter this man’s shop.” The folk rushed in and found that the ram was become a dead man2 hung up for sale. So they set upon my brother crying out, “O Infidel! O villain!”; and his best friends fell to cuffing and kicking him and kept saying, “Dost thou make us eat flesh of the sons of Adam?” Furthermore, the old man struck him on the eye and put it out. Then they carried the carcass, with the throat cut, before the Chief of the city watch, to whom the old man said, “O Emir, this fellow butchers men and sells their flesh for mutton and we have brought him to thee; so arise and execute the judgments of Allah (to whom be honour and glory!).” My brother would have defended himself, but the Chief refused to hear him and sentenced him to receive five hundred sticks and to forfeit the whole of his property. And, indeed, had it not been for that same property which he expended in bribes, they would have surely slain him. Then the Chief banished him from Baghdad; and my brother fared forth at a venture, till he came to a great town, where he thought it best to set up as a cobbler; so he opened a shop and sat there doing what he could for his livelihood. One day, as he went forth on his business, he heard the distant tramp of horses and, asking the cause, was told that the King was going out to hunt and course; so my brother stopped to look at the fine suite. It so fortuned that the King’s eye met my brother’s; whereupon the King hung down his head and said, “I seek refuge with Allah from the evil of this day!”;3 and turned the reins of his steed and returned home with all his retinue. Then he gave orders to his guards, who seized my brother and beat him with a beating so painful that he was well nigh dead; and my brother knew not what could be the cause of his maltreatment, after which he returned to his place in sorriest plight. Soon afterwards he went to one of the King’s household and related what had happened to him; and the man laughed till he fell upon his back and cried, “O brother mine, know that the King cannot bear to look at a monocular, especially if he be blind of the right eye, in which case he doth not let him go without killing him.” When my brother heard this, he resolved to fly from that city; so he went forth from it to another wherein none knew him and there he abode a long while. One day, being full of sorrowful thought for what had befallen him, he sallied out to solace himself; and, as he was walking along, he heard the distant tramp of horses behind him and said, “The judgement of Allah is upon me!” and looked about for a hiding place but found none. At last he saw a closed door which he pushed hard: it yielded. and he entered a long gallery in which he took refuge, but hardly had he done so, when two men set upon him crying out, “Allah be thanked for having delivered thee into our hands, O enemy of God! These three nights thou hast robbed us of our rest and sleep, and verily thou hast made us taste of the death cup.” My brother asked, “O folk, what ails you?”; and they answered, “Thou givest us the change and goest about to disgrace us and plannest some plot to cut the throat of the house master! Is it not enough that thou hast brought him to beggary, thou and thy fellows? But now give us up the knife wherewith thou threatenest us every night.” Then they searched him and found in his waist belt the knife used for his shoe leather; and he said, “O people, have the fear of Allah before your eyes and maltreat me not, for know that my story is a right strange!” “And what is thy story?” said they: so he told them what had befallen him, hoping they would let him go; however they paid no heed to what he said and, instead of showing some regard, beat him grievously and tore off his clothes: then, finding on his sides the scars of beating with rods, they said, “O accursed! these marks are the manifest signs of thy guilt!” They carried him before the Governor, whilst he said to himself, “I am now punished for my sins and none can deliver me save Allah Almighty!” The Governor addressing my brother asked him, “O villain, what led thee to enter their house with intention to murther?”; and my brother answered, “I conjure thee by Allah, O Emir, hear my words and be not hasty in condemning me!” But the Governor cried, “Shall we listen to the words of a robber who hath beggared these people, and who beareth on his back the scar of his stripes?” adding, “They surely had not done this to thee, save for some great crime.” So he sentenced him to receive an hundred cuts with the scourge, after which they set him on a camel and paraded him about the city, proclaiming, “This is the requital and only too little to requite him who breaketh into people’s houses.” Then they thrust him out of the city, and my brother wandered at random, till I heard what had befallen him; and, going in search of him, questioned him of his case; so he acquainted me with his story and all his mischances, and I carried him secretly to the city where I made him an allowance for his meat and drink. Then the Caliph gave ear to
1 This is one of the feats of Al-Símiyá = white magic; fascinating the eyes. In Europe it has lately taken the name of “Electro-biology.”
2 again by means of the “Símiyá” or power of fascination possessed by the old scoundrel.
3 A formula for averting “Al–Ayn,” the evil eye. It is always unlucky to meet a one-eyed man, especially the first thing in the morning and when setting out on any errand. The idea is that the fascinated one will suffer from some action of the physical eye. Monoculars also are held to be rogues: so the Sanskrit saying “Few one-eyed men be honest men.”
My fifth brother, Al–Nashshár,1 the Babbler, the same who was cropped of both ears, O Commander of the Faithful, was an asker wont to beg of folk by night and live on their alms by day. Now when our father, who was an old man well stricken in years sickened and died, he left us seven hundred dirhams whereof each son took his hundred; but, as my fifth brother received his portion, he was perplexed and knew not what to do with it. While in this uncertainty he bethought him to lay it out on glass ware of all sorts and turn an honest penny on its price. So he bought an hundred dirhams worth of verroterie and, putting it into a big tray, sat down to sell it on a bench at the foot of a wall against which he leant back. As he sat with the tray before him he fell to musing and said to himself, “Know, O my good Self, that the head of my wealth, my principal invested in this glass ware, is an hundred dirhams. I will assuredly sell it for two hundred with which I will forthright buy other glass and make by it four hundred; nor will I cease to sell and buy on this wise, till I have gotten four thousand and soon find myself the master of much money. With these coins I will buy merchandise and jewels and ottars2 and gain great profit on them; till, Allah willing, I will make my capital an hundred thousand dirhams. Then I will purchase a fine house with white slaves and eunuchs and horses; and I will eat and drink and disport myself; nor will I leave a singing man or a singing woman in the city, but I will summon them to my palace and make them perform before me.” All this he counted over in his mind, while the tray of glass ware,: worth an hundred dirhams, stood on the bench before him, and, after looking at it, he continued, “And when, Inshallah! my capital shall have become one hundred thousand3 dinars, I will send out marriage brokeresses to require for me in wedlock the daughters of Kings and Wazirs; and I will demand to wife the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister; for it hath reached me that she is perfect in beauty and prime in loveliness and rare in accomplishments. I will give a marriage settlement of one thousand dinars; and, if her father consent, well: but if not I will take her by force from under his very nose. When she is safely homed in my house, I will buy ten little eunuchs4 and for myself a robe of the robes of Kings and Sultans; and get me a saddle of gold and a bridle set thick with gems of price. Then I will mount with the Mamelukes preceding me and surrounding me, and I will make the round of the city whilst the folk salute me and bless me; after which I will repair to the Wazir (he that is father of the girl) with armed white slaves before and behind me and on my right and on my left. When he sees me, the Wazir stands up, and seating me in his own place sits down much below me; for that I am to be his son in law. Now I have with me two eunuchs carrying purses, each containing a thousand dinars; and of these I deliver to him the thousand, his daughter’s marriage settlement, and make him a free gift of the other thousand, that he may have reason to know my generosity and liberality and my greatness of spirit and the littleness of the world in my eyes. And for ten words he addresses to me I answer him two. Then back I go to my house, and if one come to me on the bride’s part, I make him a present of money and throw on him a dress of honour; but if he bring me a gift, I give it back to him and refuse to accept it,5 that they may learn what a proud spirit is mine which never condescends to derogate. Thus I establish my rank and status. When this is done I appoint her wedding night and adorn my house showily! gloriously! And as the time for parading the bride is come, I don my finest attire and sit down on a mattress of gold brocade, propping up my elbow with a pillow, and turning neither to the right nor to the left; but looking only straight in front for the haughtiness of my mind and the gravity of my understanding. And there before me stands my wife in her raiment and ornaments, lovely as the full moon; and I, in my loftiness and dread lordliness,6 will not glance at her till those present say to me, ‘O our lord and our master, thy wife, thy handmaid, standeth before thee; vouchsafe her one look, for standing wearieth her.’ Then they kiss the ground before me many times; whereupon I raise my eyes and cast at her one single glance and turn my face earthwards again. Then they bear her off to the bride chamber,7 and I arise and change my clothes for a far finer suit; and, when they bring in the bride a second time, I deign not to throw her a look till they have begged me many times; after which I glance at her out of the corner of one eye, and then bend down my head. I continue acting after this fashion till the parading and displaying are completed8”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Al–Nashshár from Nashr = sawing: so the fiddler in Italian is called the “village-saw” (Sega del villaggio). He is the Alnaschar of the Englished Galland and Richardson. The tale is very old. It appears as the Brahman and the Pot of Rice in the Panchatantra; and Professor Benfey believes (as usual with him) that this, with many others, derives from a Buddhist source. But I would distinctly derive it from Æsop’s market-woman who kicked over her eggs, whence the Lat. prov. Ante victoriam canere triumphum = to sell the skin before you have caught the bear. In the “Kalilah and Dimnah” and its numerous offspring it is the “Ascetic with his Jar of oil and honey;” in Rabelais (i., 33) Echephron’s shoemaker spills his milk, and so La Perette in La Fontaine. See M. Max Muller’s “Chips,” (vol. iii., appendix) The curious reader will compare my version with that which appears at the end of Richardson’s Arabic Grammar (Edit. Of 1811): he had a better, or rather a fuller Ms. (p. 199) than any yet printed.
2 Arab. “Atr” = any perfume, especially oil of roses; whence our word “Otter,’ through the Turkish corruption.
3 The texts give “dirhams” (100,000 = 5,000 dinars) for “dinars,” a clerical error as the sequel shows.
4 “Young slaves,” says Richardson, losing “colour.”
5 Nothing more calculated to give affront than such a refusal. Richardson (p. 204) who, however, doubts his own version (p. 208), here translates, “and I will not give liberty to my soul (spouse) but in her apartments.” The Arabic, or rather Cairene, is, “wa lá akhalli rúhi” I will not let myself go, i.e., be my everyday self, etc.
6 “Whilst she is in astonishment and terror.” (Richardson.)
7 “Chamber of robes,” Richardson, whose text has “Nám” for “Manám.”
8 “Till I compleat her distress,” Richardson, whose text is corrupt.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Barber’s fifth brother proceeded:— “Then I bend down my head and continue acting after this fashion till her parading and displaying are completed. Thereupon I order one of my eunuchs to bring me a bag of five hundred dinars which I give as largesse to the tire women present and bid them one and all lead me to the bride chamber. When they leave me alone with her I neither look at her nor speak to her, but lie1 by her side with my face to the wall showing my contempt, that each and every may again remark how high and haughty I am. Presently her mother comes in to me, and kissing2 my head and hand, says to me, ‘O my lord, look upon thine handmaid who longs for thy favour; so heal her broken spirit!’ I give her no answer; and when she sees this she rises and busses my feet many times and says, ‘O my lord, in very sooth my daughter is a beautiful maid, who hath never known man; and if thou show her this backwardness and aversion, her heart will break; so do thou incline to her and speak to her and soothe her mind and spirit.’ Then she rises and fetches a cup of wine; and says to her daughter, ‘Take it and hand it to thy lord.’ But as e approaches me I leave her standing between my hands and sit, propping my elbow on a round cushion purfled with gold thread, leaning lazily back, and without looking at her in the majesty of my spirit, so that she may deem me indeed a Sultan and a mighty man. Then she says to me, ‘O my lord, Allah upon thee, do not refuse to take the cup from the hand of thine hand maid, for verily I am thy bondswoman.’ But I do not speak to her and she presses me, saying, ‘There is no help but that thou drink it;’ and she puts it to my lips. Then I shake my fist in her face and kick her with my foot thus.” So he let out with his toe an knocked over the tray of glass ware which fell to the ground and, falling from the bench, all that was on it was broken to bits. ‘O foulest of pimps,3 this comes from the pride of my spirit’” cried my brother; and then, O Commander of the Faithful, he buffeted his face and rent his garments and kept on weeping and beating himself. The folk who were flocking to their Friday prayers saw him; and some of them looked at him and pitied him, whilst others paid no heed to him, and in this way my bother lost both capital and profit. He remained weeping a long while, and at last up came a beautiful lady, the scent of musk exhaling from her, who was going to Friday prayers riding a mule with a gold saddle and followed by several eunuchs. When she saw the broken glass and my brother weeping, her kind heart was moved to pity for him, and she asked what ailed him and was told that he had a tray full of glass ware by the sale of which he hoped to gain his living, but it was broken, and (said they), “there befell him what thou seest.” Thereupon she called up one of her eunuchs and said to him, Give what thou hast with thee to this poor fellow!”. And he gave my brother a purse in which he found five hundred dinars; and when it touched his hand he was well nigh dying for excess of joy and he offered up blessings for her. Then he returned to his abode a substantial man; and, as he sat considering, some one rapped at the door. So he rose and opened and saw an old woman whom he had never seen. “O my son,” said she, “know that prayer tide is near and I have not yet made my Wuzu-ablution;4 so kindly allow me the use of thy lodging for the purpose.” My brother answered, “To hear is to comply;” and going in bade her follow him. So she entered and he brought her an ewer wherewith to wash, and sat down like to fly with joy because of the dinars which he had tied up in his belt for a purse. When the old woman had made an end of her ablution, she came up to where he sat, and prayed a two bow prayer; after which she blessed my brother with a godly benediction, and he while thanking her put his hand to the dinars and gave her two, saying to himself “These are my voluntaries.”5 When she saw the gold she cried, “Praise be to Allah! why dost thou look on one who loveth thee as if she were a beggar? Take back thy money: I have no need of it; or, if thou want it not, return it to her who gave it thee when thy glass ware was broken. Moreover, if thou wish to be united with her, I can manage the matter, for she is my mistress.” “O my mother,” asked my brother, “by what manner of means can I get at her?”; and she answered, “O my son! she hath an inclination for thee, but she is the wife of a wealthy man; so take the whole of thy money with thee and follow me, that I may guide thee to thy desire: and when thou art in her company spare neither persuasion nor fair words, but bring them all to bear upon her; so shalt thou enjoy her beauty and wealth to thy heart’s content.” My brother took all his gold and rose and followed the old woman, hardly believing in his luck. She ceased not faring on, and my brother following her, till they came to a tall gate at which she knocked and a Roumi slave-girl6 came out and opened to them. Then the old woman led my brother into a great sitting room spread with wondrous fine carpets and hung with curtains, where he sat down with his gold before him, and his turband on his knee.7 He had scarcely taken seat before there came to him a young lady (never eye saw fairer) clad in garments of the most sumptuous; whereupon my brother rose to his feet, and she smiled in his face and welcomed him, signing to him to be seated. Then she bade shut the door and, when it was shut, she turned to my brother, and taking his hand conducted him to a private chamber furnished with various kinds of brocades and gold cloths. Here he sat down and she sat by his side and toyed with him awhile; after which she rose and saying, “Stir not from thy seat till I come back to thee;” disappeared. Meanwhile as he was on this wise, lo! there came in to him a black slave big of body and bulk and holding a drawn sword in hand, who said to him, “Woe to thee! Who brought thee hither and what dost thou want here?” My brother could not return him a reply, being tongue tied for terror; so the blackamoor seized him and stripped him of his clothes and bashed him with the flat of his sword blade till he fell to the ground, swooning from excess of belabouring. The ill omened nigger fancied that there was an end of him and my brother heard him cry, “Where is the salt wench?”8 Where upon in came a handmaid holding in hand a large tray of salt, and the slave kept rubbing it into my brother’s wounds;9 but he did not stir fearing lest the slave might find out that he was not dead and kill him outright. Then the salt girl went away, and the slave cried Where is the souterrain10 guardianess?” Hereupon in came the old woman and dragged my brother by his feet to a souterrain and threw him down upon a heap of dead bodies. In this place he lay two full days, but Allah made the salt the means of preserving his life by staunching the blood and staying its flow Presently, feeling himself able to move, Al–Nashshar rose and opened the trap door in fear and trembling and crept out into the open; and Allah protected him, so that he went on in the darkness and hid himself in the vestibule till dawn, when he saw the accursed beldam sally forth in quest of other quarry. He followed in her wake without her knowing it, and made for his own lodging where he dressed his wounds and medicined himself till he was whole. Meanwhile he used to watch the old woman, tracking her at all times and seasons, and saw her accost one man after another and carry them to the house. However he uttered not a word; but, as soon as he waxed hale and hearty, he took a piece of stuff and made it into a bag which he filled with broken glass and bound about his middle. He also disguised himself as a Persian that none might know him, and hid a sword under his clothes of foreign cut. Then he went out and presently, falling in with the old woman, said to her, speaking Arabic with a Persian accent, “Venerable lady,11 I am a stranger arrived but this day here where I know no one. Hast thou a pair of scales wherein I may weigh eleven hundred dinars? I will give thee somewhat of them for thy pains.” “I have a son, a money changer, who keepeth all kinds of scales,” she answered, “so come with me to him before he goeth out and he will weigh thy gold.” My brother answered “Lead the way!” She led him to the house and the young lady herself came out and opened it, whereupon the old woman smiled in her face and said, “I bring thee fat meat today.”12 Then the damsel took my brother by the hand, and led him to the same chamber as before; where she sat with him awhile then rose and went forth saying, “Stir not from thy seat till I come back to thee.” Presently in came the accursed slave with the drawn sword and cried to my brother, “Up and be damned to thee.” So he rose, and as the slave walked on before him he drew the sword from under his clothes and smote him with it, making head fly from body. Then he dragged the corpse by the feet to the souterrain and called out, “Where is the salt wench?” Up came the girl carrying the tray of salt and, seeing my brother sword in hand, turned to fly; but he followed her and struck off her head. Then he called out, “Where is the souterrain guardianess?, and in came the old woman to whom he said, “Dost know me again, ill omened hag?” “No my lord,” she replied, and he said, “I am the owner of the five hundred gold pieces, whose house thou enteredst to make the ablution and to pray, and whom thou didst snare hither and betray.” “Fear Allah and spare me,” cried she; but he regarded her not and struck her with the sword till he had cut her in four. Then he went to look for the young lady; and when she saw him her reason fled and she cried out piteously “Aman!13 Mercy!” So he spared her and asked, “What made thee consort with this blackamoor?”, and she answered, “I was slave to a certain merchant, and the old woman used to visit me till I took a liking to her. One day she said to me, ‘We have a marriage festival at our house the like of which was never seen and I wish thee to enjoy the sight.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ answered I, and rising arrayed myself in my finest raiment and ornaments, and took with me a purse containing an hundred gold pieces. Then she brought me hither and hardly had I entered the house when the black seized on me, and I have remained in this case three whole years through the perfidy of the accursed beldam.” Then my brother asked her, “Is there anything of his in the house?”; whereto she answered, “Great store of wealth, and if thou art able to carry it away, do so and Allah give thee good of it” My brother went with her and she opened to him sundry chests wherein were money bags, at which he was astounded; then she said to him, “Go now and leave me here, and fetch men to remove the money.”, He went out and hired ten men, but when he returned he found the door wide open, the damsel gone and nothing left but some small matter of coin and the household stuffs.14 By this he knew that the girl had overreached him; so he opened the store rooms and seized what was in them, together with the rest of the money, leaving nothing in the house. He passed the night rejoicing, but when morning dawned he found at the door some twenty troopers who laid hands on him saying, “The Governor wants thee!” My brother implored them hard to let him return to his house; and even offered them a large sum of money; but they refused and, binding him fast with cords, carried him off. On the way they met a friend of my brother who clung to his skirt and implored his protection, begging him to stand by him and help to deliver him out of their hands. The man stopped, and asked them what was the matter, and they answered, “The Governor hath ordered us to bring this fellow before him and, look ye, we are doing so.” My brother’s friend urged them to release him, and offered them five hundred dinars to let him go, saying, “When ye return to the Governor tell him that you were unable to find him.” But they would not listen to his words and took my brother, dragging him along on his face, and set him before the Governor who asked him, “Whence gottest thou these stuffs and monies?”; and he answered, “I pray for mercy!” So the Governor gave him the kerchief of mercy;15 and he told him all that had befallen him from first to last with the old woman and the flight of the damsel; ending with, “Whatso I have taken, take of it what thou wilt, so thou leave me sufficient to support life.”16 But the Governor took the whole of the stuffs and all the money for himself; and, fearing lest the affair come to the Sultan’s ears, he summoned my brother and said, “Depart from this city, else I will hang thee.” “Hearing and obedience” quoth my brother and set out for another town. On the way thieves fell foul of him and stripped and beat him and docked his ears; but I heard tidings of his misfortunes and went out after him taking him clothes; and brought him secretly into the city where I assigned to him an allowance for meat and drink. And presently the Caliph gave ear to
1 “Sleep by her side,” R. the word “Name” bearing both senses.
2 “Will take my hand,” R. “takabbal” being also ambiguous.
3 Arab. “Mu’arras” one who brings about “‘Ars,” marriages, etc. So the Germ. = “Kupplerinn” a Coupleress. It is one of the many synonyms for a pimp, and a word in general use (Pilgrimage i., 276).The most insulting term, like Dayyús, insinuates that the man panders for his own wife.
4 Of hands and face, etc. See Night cccclxiv.
5 Arab. “Sadakah” (sincerity), voluntary or superogatory alms, opposed to “Zakát” (purification), legal alms which are indispensable. “Prayer carries us half way to Allah, fasting brings us to the door of His palace and alms deeds (Sadakah) cause us to enter.” For “Zakát” no especial rate is fixed, but it should not be less than one-fortieth of property or two and a half per cent. Thus Al-lslam is, as far as I know, the only faith which makes a poor-rate (Zakát) obligatory and which has invented a property-tax, as opposed the unjust and unfair income-tax upon which England prides herself.
6 A Greek girl.
7 This was making himself very easy; and the idea is the gold in the pouch caused him to be so bold. Lane’s explanation (in loco) is all wrong. The pride engendered by sudden possession of money is a lieu commun amongst Eastern story tellers; even in the beast-fables the mouse which has stolen a few gold pieces becomes confident and stout-hearted.
8 Arab. “al-Málihah” also means the beautiful (fem.) from Milh=salt, splendour, etc., the Mac edit. has “Mumallihah” = a salt-vessel.
9 i.e., to see if he felt the smart.
10 Arab. “Sardábeh” (Persian)=an underground room used for coolness in the hot season. It is unknown in Cairo but every house in Baghdad, in fact throughout the Mesopotamian cities, has one. It is on the principle of the underground cellar without which wine will not keep: Lane (i., 406) calls it a “vault”.
11 In the orig. “O old woman!” which is insulting.
12 So the Italians say “a quail to skin.”
13 “Amen” is the word used for quarter on the battle-field; and there are Joe Millers about our soldiers in India mistaking it for “a man” or (Scottice) “a mon.”
14 Illustrating the Persian saying “Allah himself cannot help a fool.”
15 Any article taken from the person and given to a criminal is a promise of pardon, of course on the implied condition of plenary confession and of becoming “King’s evidence.”
16 A naïve proposal to share the plunder.
My sixth brother, O Commander of the Faithful, Shakashik,1 or Many clamours, the shorn of both lips, was once rich and became poor, so one day he went out to beg somewhat to keep life in him. As he was on the road he suddenly caught sight of a large and handsome mansion, with a detached building wide and lofty at the entrance, where sat sundry eunuchs bidding and forbidding.2 My brother enquired of one of those idling there and he replied “The palace belongs to a scion of the Barmaki house;” so he stepped up to the door keepers and asked an alms of them “Enter,” said they, “by the great gate and thou shalt get what thou seekest from the Wazir our master.” Accordingly he went in and, passing through the outer entrance, walked on a while and presently came to a mansion of the utmost beauty and elegance, paved with marble, hung with curtains and having in the midst of it a flower garden whose like he had never seen.3 My brother stood awhile as one bewildered not knowing whither to turn his steps; then, seeing the farther end of the sitting chamber tenanted, he walked up to it and there found a man of handsome presence and comely beard. When this personage saw my brother he stood up to him and welcomed him and asked him of his case; whereto he replied that he was in want and needed charity. Hearing these words the grandee showed great concern and, putting his hand to his fine robe, rent it exclaiming, “What! am I in a City, and thou here an hungered? I have not patience to bear such disgrace!” Then he promised him all manner of good cheer and said, “There is no help but that thou stay with me and eat of my salt.”4 “O my lord,” answered my brother, “I can wait no longer; for I am indeed dying of hunger.” So he cried, “Ho boy! bring basin and ewer;” and, turning to my brother, said, “O my guest come forward and wash thy hands.” My brother rose to do so but he saw neither ewer nor basin; yet his host kept washing his hands with invisible soap in imperceptible water and cried, “Bring the table!” But my brother again saw nothing. Then said the host, “Honour me by eating of this meat and be not ashamed.” And he kept moving his hand to and fro as if he ate and saying to my brother, “I wonder to see thee eating thus sparely: do not stint thyself for I am sure thou art famished.” So my brother began to make as though he were eating whilst his host kept saying to him, “Fall to, and note especially the excellence of this bread and its whiteness!” But still my brother saw nothing. Then said he to himself, “This man is fond of poking fun at people;” and replied, “O my lord, in all my days I never knew aught more winsome than its whiteness or sweeter than its savour.” The Barmecide said, “This bread was baked by a hand maid of mine whom I bought for five hundred dinars.” Then he called out, “Ho boy, bring in the meat pudding5 for our first dish, and let there be plenty of fat in it;” and, turning to my brother said, “O my guest, Allah upon thee, hast ever seen anything better than this meat pudding? Now by my life, eat and be not abashed.” Presently he cried out again, “Ho boy, serve up the marinated stew6 with the fatted sand grouse in it;” and he said to my brother, “Up and eat, O my guest, for truly thou art hungry and needest food.” So my brother began wagging his jaws and made as if champing and chewing,7 whilst the host continued calling for one dish after another and yet produced nothing save orders to eat. Presently he cried out, “Ho boy, bring us the chickens stuffed with pistachio nuts;” and said to my brother, “By thy life, O my guest, I have fattened these chickens upon pistachios; eat, for thou hast never eaten their like.” “O my lord,” replied my brother, “they are indeed first rate.” Then the host began motioning with his hand as though he were giving my brother a mouthful; and ceased not to enumerate and expatiate upon the various dishes to the hungry man whose hunger waxt still more violent, so that his soul lusted after a bit of bread, even a barley scone.8 Quoth the Barmecide, “Didst thou ever taste anything more delicious than the seasoning of these dishes?”; and quoth my brother, “Never, O my lord!” “Eat heartily and be not ashamed,” said the host, and the guest, “I have eaten my fill of meat;” So the entertainer cried, “Take away and bring in the sweets;” and turning to my brother said, “Eat of this almond conserve for it is prime and of these honey fritters; take this one, by my life, the syrup runs out of it.” “May I never be bereaved of thee, O my lord,” replied the hungry one and began to ask him about the abundance of musk in the fritters. “Such is my custom,” he answered: “they put me a dinar weight of musk in every honey fritter and half that quantity of ambergris.” All this time my brother kept wagging head and jaws till the master cried, “Enough of this. Bring us the dessert!” Then said he to him,’ “Eat of these almonds and walnuts and raisins; and of this and that (naming divers kinds of dried fruits), and be not abashed.” But my brother replied, “O my lord, indeed I am full: I can eat no more.” “O my guest,” repeated the host, “if thou have a mind to these good things eat: Allah! Allah!9 do not remain hungry;” but my brother rejoined, “O my lord, he who hath eaten of all these dishes how can he be hungry?” Then he considered and said to himself, “I will do that shall make him repent of these pranks.” Presently the entertainer called out “Bring me the wine;” and, moving his hands in the air, as though they had set it before them, he gave my brother a cup and said, “Take this cup and, if it please thee, let me know.” “O my lord,” he replied, “it is notable good as to nose but I am wont to drink wine some twenty years old.” “Knock then at this door,”10 quoth the host “for thou canst not drink of aught better.” “By thy kindness,” said my brother, motioning with his hand as though he were drinking. “Health and joy to thee,” exclaimed the house master and feigned to fill a cup and drink it off; then he handed another to my brother who quaffed it and made as if he were drunken. Presently he took the host unawares; and, raising his arm till the white of his armpit appeared, dealt him such a cuff on the nape of his neck that the palace echoed to it. Then he came down upon him with a second cuff and the entertainer cried aloud “What is this, O thou scum of the earth?” “O my lord,” replied my brother, “thou hast shown much kindness to thy slave, and admitted him into thine abode and given him to eat of thy victual; then thou madest him drink of thine old wine till he became drunken and boisterous; but thou art too noble not to bear with his ignorance and pardon his offence.” When the Barmaki heard my brother’s words he laughed his loudest and said, “Long have I been wont to make mock of men and play the madcap among my intimates, but never yet have I come across a single one who had the patience and the wit to enter into all my humours save thyself: so I forgive thee, and thou shalt be my boon companion in very sooth and never leave me.” Then he ordered the servants to lay the table in earnest and they set on all the dishes of which he had spoken in sport; and he and my brother ate till they were satisfied; after which they removed to the drinking chamber, where they found damsels like moons who sang all manner songs and played on all manner instruments. There they remained drinking till their wine got the better of them and the host treated my brother like a familiar friend, so that he became as it were his brother, and bestowed on him a robe of honour and loved him with exceeding love. Next morning the two fell again to feasting and carousing, and ceased not to lead this life for a term of twenty years; at the end of which the Barmecide died and the Sultan took possession of all his wealth and squeezed my brother of his savings, till he was left a pauper without a penny to handle. So he quitted the city and fled forth following his face;11 but, when he was half way between two towns, the wild Arabs fell on him and bound him and carried him to their camp, where his captor proceeded to torture him, saying, “Buy thy life of me with thy money, else I will slay thee!” My brother began to weep and replied, “By Allah, I have nothing, neither gold nor silver; but I am thy prisoner; so do with me what thou wilt.” Then the Badawi drew a knife, broad bladed and so sharp grinded that if plunged into a camel’s throat it would sever it clean across from one jugular to the other,12 and cut off my brother’s lips and waxed more instant in requiring money. Now this Badawi had a fair wife who in her husband’s absence used to make advances to my brother and offer him her favours, but he held off from her. One day she began to tempt him as usual and he played with her and made her sit on his lap, when behold, in came the Badawi who, seeing this, cried out, “Woe to thee, O accursed villain, wouldest thou debauch my wife for me?” Then he took out a knife and cut off my brother’s yard, after which he bound him on the back of a camel and, carrying him to a mountain, left him there. He was at last found by some who recognised him and gave him meat and drink and acquainted me with his condition; whereupon I went forth to him and brought him back to Baghdad where I made him an allowance sufficient to live on. This, then, O Commander of the Faithful, is the history of my six brothers, and I feared to go away without relating it all to thee and leave thee in the error of judging me to be like them. And now thou knowest that I have six brothers upon my hands and, being more upright than they, I support the whole family. When the Caliph heard my story and all I told him concerning my brothers, he laughed and said, “Thou sayest sooth, O Silent Man! thou art indeed spare of speech nor is there aught of forwardness in thee; but now go forth out of this city and settle in some other.” And he banished me under edict. I left Baghdad and travelled in foreign parts till I heard of his death and the accession of another to the Caliphate. Then I returned to Baghdad where I found all my brothers dead and chanced upon this young man, to whom I rendered the kindliest service, for without me he had surely been killed. Indeed he slanders me and accuses me of a fault which is not in my nature; and what he reports concerning impudence and meddling and forwardness is idle and false; for verily on his account I left Baghdad and travelled about full many a country till I came to this city and met him here in your company. And was not this, O worthy assemblage, of the generosity of my nature?
1 In popular literature “Schacabac.”, And from this tale comes our saying “A Barmecide’s Feast,” i.e., an illusion.
2 The Castrato at the door is still (I have said) the fashion of Cairo and he acts “Suisse” with a witness.
3 As usual in the East, the mansion was a hollow square surrounding what in Spain is called Patio: the outer entrance was far from the inner, showing the extent of the grounds.
4 “Nahnu málihín” = we are on terms of salt, said and say the Arabs. But the traveller must not trust in these days to the once sacred tie; there are tribes which will give bread with one hand and stab with the other. The Eastern use of salt is a curious contrast with that of Westerns, who made it an invidious and inhospitable distinction, e.g., to sit above the salt-cellar and below the salt. Amongst the ancients, however, “he took bread and salt” means he swore, the food being eaten when an oath was taken. Hence the “Bride cake” of salt, water and flour.
5 Arab. “Harísah,” the meat-pudding before explained.
6 Arab. “Sikbáj,” before explained; it is held to be a lordly dish, invented by Khusraw Parwiz. “Fatted duck” says the Bresl. Edit. ii., 308, with more reason.
7 I was reproved in Southern Abyssinia for eating without this champing, “Thou feedest like a beggar who muncheth silently in his corner;” and presently found that it was a sign of good breeding to eat as noisily as possible.
8 Barley in Arabia is, like our oats, food for horses: it fattens at the same time that it cools them. Had this been known to our cavalry when we first occupied Egypt in 1883–4 our losses in horse-flesh would have been far less; but official ignorance persisted in feeding the cattle upon heating oats and the riders upon beef, which is indigestible, instead of mutton, which is wholesome.
9 i.e. “I conjure thee by God.”
10 i.e. “This is the very thing for thee.”
11 i.e., at random.
12 This is the way of slaughtering the camel, whose throat is never cut on account of the thickness of the muscles. “Égorger un chameau” is a mistake often made in French books.
Then quoth the Tailor to the King of China: When we heard the Barber’s tale and saw the excess of his loquacity and the way in which he had wronged this young man, we laid hands on him and shut him up, after which we sat down in peace, and ate and drank and enjoyed the good things of the marriage feast till the time of the call to mid afternoon prayer, when I left the party and returned home. My wife received me with sour looks and said, “Thou goest a pleasuring among thy friends and thou leavest me to sit sorrowing here alone. So now, unless thou take me abroad and let me have some amusement for the rest of the day, I will cut the rope1 and it will be the cause of my separation from thee.” So I took her out and we amused ourselves till supper time, when we returned home and fell in with this Hunchback who was brimful of drink and trolling out these rhymes:
“Clear’s the wine, the cup’s fine;
Like to like they combine:
It is wine and not cup!
’Tis a cup and not wine!”
So I invited him to sup with us and went out to buy fried fish; after which we sat down to eat; and presently my wife took a piece of bread and a fid of fish and stuffed them into his mouth and he choked; and, though I slapped him long and hard between the shoulders, he died. Then I carried him off and contrived to throw him into the house of this leach, the Jew; and the leach contrived to throw him into the house of the Reeve; and the Reeve contrived to throw him on the way of the Nazarene broker. This, then, is my adventure which befell me but yesterday. Is not it more wondrous than the story of the Hunchback? When the King of China heard the Tailor’s tale he shook his head for pleasure; and, showing great surprise, said, “This that passed between the young man and the busy-body of a Barber is indeed more pleasant and wonderful than the story of my lying knave of a Hunchback.” Then he bade one of his Chamberlains go with the Tailor and bring the Barber out of jail, saying, “I wish to hear the talk of this Silent Man and it shall be the cause of your deliverance one and all: then we will bury the Hunchback, for that he is dead since yesterday, and set up a tomb over him.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. I will break bounds.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King of China bade, “Bring me the Barber who shall be the cause of your deliverance; then we will bury this Hunchback, for that he is dead since yesterday and set up a tomb over him.” So the Chamberlain and the Tailor went to the jail and, releasing the Barber, presently returned with him to the King. The Sultan of China looked at him and considered him carefully and lo and behold! he was an ancient man, past his ninetieth year; swart of face, white of beard, and hoar of eyebrows; lop eared and proboscis-nosed,1 with a vacant, silly and conceited expression of countenance. The King laughed at this figure o’ fun and said to him, “O Silent Man, I desire thee to tell me somewhat of thy history.” Quoth the Barber, “O King of the age, allow me first to ask thee what is the tale of this Nazarene and this Jew and this Moslem and this Hunchback (the corpse) I see among you? And prithee what may be the object of this assemblage?” Quoth the King of China, “And why dost thou ask?” “I ask,” he replied, “in order that the King’s majesty may know that I am no forward fellow or busy body or impertinent meddler; and that I am innocent of their calumnious charges of overmuch talk; for I am he whose name is the Silent Man, and indeed peculiarly happy is my sobriquet, as saith the poet:
When a nickname or little name men design,
Know that nature with name shall full oft combine.”
Then said the King, “Explain to the Barber the case of this Hunchback and what befell him at supper time; also repeat to him the stories told by the Nazarene, the Jew, the Reeve, and the Tailor; and of no avail to me is a twice told tale.” They did his bidding, and the Barber shook his head and said, “By Allah, this is a marvel of marvels! Now uncover me the corpse of yonder Hunchback. They undid the winding sheet and he sat down and, taking the Hunchback’s head in his lap, looked at his face and laughed and guffaw’d2 till he fell upon his back and said, “There is wonder in every death,3 but the death of this Hunchback is worthy to be written and recorded in letters of liquid gold!” The bystanders were astounded at his words and the King marvelled and said to him, “What ails thee, O Silent Man? Explain to us thy words!” “O King of the age,” said the Barber, “I swear by thy beneficence that there is still life in this Gobbo Golightly!” Thereupon he pulled out of his waist belt a barber’s budget, whence he took a pot of ointment and anointed therewith the neck of the Hunchback and its arteries. Then he took a pair of iron tweezers and, inserting them into the Hunchback’s throat, drew out the fid of fish with its bone; and, when it came to sight, behold, it was soaked in blood. Thereupon the Hunchback sneezed a hearty sneeze and jumped up as if nothing had happened and passing his hand over his face said, “I testify that there is no god, but the God, and I testify that Mohammed is the Apostle of God.” At this sight all present wondered; the King of China laughed till he fainted and in like manner did the others. Then said the Sultan, “By Allah, of a truth this is the most marvellous thing I ever saw! O Moslems, O soldiers all, did you ever in the lives of you see a man die and be quickened again? Verily had not Allah vouchsafed to him this Barber, he had been a dead man!” Quoth they, “By Allah, ’tis a marvel of marvels.” Then the King of China bade record this tale, so they recorded it and placed it in the royal muniment-rooms; after which he bestowed costly robes of honour upon the Jew, the Nazarene and the Reeve, and bade them depart in all esteem. Then he gave the Tailor a sumptuous dress and appointed him his own tailor, with suitable pay and allowances; and made peace between him and the Hunchback, to whom also he presented a splendid and expensive suit with a suitable stipend. He did as generously with the Barber, giving him a gift and a dress of honour; moreover he settled on him a handsome solde and created him Barber surgeon4 of state and made him one of his cup companions. So they ceased not to live the most pleasurable life and the most delectable, till there came to them the Destroyer of all delights and the Sunderer of all societies, the Depopulator of palaces and the Garnerer for graves. Yet, O most auspicious King! (continued Shahrazad) this tale is by no means more wonderful than that of the two Wazirs and Anís al-Jalís. Quoth her sister Dunyazad, “And what may that be?”, whereupon she began to relate the following tale of
1 The Arabs have a saying corresponding with the dictum of the Salernitan school:—
Noscitur a labiis quantum sit virginis antrum:
Noscitur a naso quanta sit haste viro;
(A maiden’s mouth shows what’s the make of her chose;
And man’s mentule one knows by the length of his nose.)
Whereto I would add:—
And the eyebrows disclose how the lower wig grows.
The observations are purely empirical but, as far as my experience extends, correct.
2 Arab. “Kahkahah,” a very low proceeding.
3 Or “for every death there is a cause;” but the older Arabs had a saying corresponding with “Deus non fecit mortem.”
4 The King’s barber is usually a man of rank for the best of reasons, that he holds his Sovereign’s life between his fingers. One of these noble Figaros in India married an English lady who was, they say, unpleasantly surprised to find out what were her husband’s official duties.
Quoth Shahrazad 1:— It hath reached me, O auspicious King of intelligence penetrating, that there was, amongst the Kings of Bassorah2, a King who loved the poor and needy and cherished his lieges, and gave of his wealth to all who believed in Mohammed (whom Allah bless and assain!), and he was even as one of the poets described him,
“A King who when hosts of the foe invade,
Receives them with lance-lunge and sabre-sway;
Writes his name on bosoms in thin red lines,
And scatters the horsemen in wild dismay.”3
His name was King Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni, and he had two Wazirs, one called Al–Mu’ín, son of Sáwí and the other Al–Fazl son of Khákán. Now Al–Fazl was the most generous of the people of his age, upright of life, so that all hearts united in loving him and the wise flocked to him for counsel; whilst the subjects used to pray for his long life, because he was a compendium of the best qualities, encouraging the good and lief, and preventing evil and mischief. But the Wazir Mu’ín bin Sáwí on the contrary hated folk 4 and loved not the good and was a mere compound of ill; even as was said of him,
“Hold to nobles, sons of nobles! ’tis ever Nature’s test
That nobles born of nobles shall excel in noble deed:
And shun the mean of soul, meanly bred, for ’tis the law,
Mean deeds come of men who are mean of blood and breed.”
And as much as the people loved and fondly loved Al–Fazl bin Khákán, so they hated and thoroughly hated the mean and miserly Mu’ín bin Sáwí. It befel one day by the decree of the Decreer, that King Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni, being seated on his throne with his officers of state about him, summoned his Wazir Al–Fazl and said to him, “I wish to have a slave-girl of passing beauty, perfect in loveliness, exquisite in symmetry and endowed with all praiseworthy gifts.” Said the courtiers, “Such a girl is not to be bought for less than ten thousand gold pieces:” whereupon the Sultan called out to his treasurer and said, “Carry ten thousand dinars to the house of Al–Fazl bin Khákán.” The treasurer did the King’s bidding; and the Minister went away, after receiving the royal charge to repair to the slave-bazar every day, and entrust to brokers the matter aforesaid. Moreover the King issued orders that girls worth above a thousand gold pieces should not be bought or sold without being first displayed to the Wazir. Accordingly no broker purchased a slave-girl ere she had been paraded before the minister; but none pleased him, till one day a dealer came to the house and found him taking horse and intending for the palace. So he caught hold of his stirrup saying,
“O thou, who givest to royal state sweet savour,
Thou’rt a Wazir shalt never fail of favour!
Dead Bounty thou hast raised to life for men;
Ne’er fail of Allah’s grace such high endeavour!”
Then quoth he, “O my lord, that surpassing object for whom the gracious mandate was issued is at last found; 5” and quoth the Wazir, “Here with her to me!” So he went away and returned after a little, bringing a damsel in richest raiment robed, a maid spear-straight of stature and five feet tall; budding of bosom with eyes large and black as by Kohl traced, and dewy lips sweeter than syrup or the sherbet one sips, a virginette smooth cheeked and shapely faced, whose slender waist with massive hips was engraced; a form more pleasing than branchlet waving upon the top-most trees, and a voice softer and gentler than the morning breeze, even as saith one of those who have described her,
“Strange is the charm which dights her brows like Luna’s disk that shine;
O sweeter taste than sweetest Robb6 or raisins of the vine.
A throne th’Empyrean keeps for her in high and glorious state,
For wit and wisdom, wandlike form and graceful bending line:
She in the Heaven of her face7 the seven-fold stars displays,
That guard her cheeks as satellites against the spy’s design:
If man should cast a furtive glance or steal far look at her,
His heart is burnt by devil-bolts shot by those piercing eyne.”
When the Wazir saw her she made him marvel with excess of admiration, so he turned, perfectly pleased, to the broker and asked, “What is the price of this girl?”; whereto he answered, “Her market-value stands at ten thousand dinars, but her owner swears that this sum will not cover the cost of the chickens she hath eaten, the wine she hath drunken and the dresses of honour bestowed upon her instructor: for she hath learned calligraphy and syntax and etymology; the commentaries of the Koran; the principles of law and religion; the canons of medicine, and the calendar and the art of playing on musical instruments.”8 Said the Wazir, “Bring me her master.” So the broker brought him at once and, behold, he was a Persian of whom there was left only what the days had left; for he was as a vulture bald and scald and a wall trembling to its fall. Time had buffetted him with sore smart, yet was he not willing this world to depart; even as said the poet,
“Time hath shattered all my frame,
Oh! how time hath shattered me.
Time with lordly might can tame
Manly strength and vigour free.
Time was in my youth, that none
Sped their way more fleet and fast:
Time is and my strength is gone,
Youth is sped, and speed is past.9”
The Wazir asked him, “Art thou content to sell this slave-girl to the Sultan for ten thousand dinars?”; and the Persian answered, “By Allah, if I offer her to the King for naught, it were but my devoir.”10 So the Minister bade bring the monies and saw them weighed out to the Persian, who stood up before him and said, “By the leave of our lord the Wazir, I have somewhat to say;” and the Wazir replied, “Out with all thou hast!” “It is my opinion,” continued the slave-dealer, “that thou shouldst not carry the maid to the King this day; for she is newly off a journey; the change of air11 hath affected her and the toils of trouble have fretted her. But keep her quiet in thy palace some ten days, that she may recover her looks and become again as she was. Then send her to the Hammam and clothe her in the richest of clothes and go up with her to the Sultan: this will be more to thy profit.” The Wazir pondered the Persian’s words and approved of their wisdom; so he carried her to his palace, where he appointed her private rooms, and allowed her every day whatever she wanted of meat and drink and so forth. And on this wise she abode a while. Now the Wazir Al–Fazl had a son like the full moon when sheeniest dight, with face radiant in light, cheeks ruddy bright, and a mole like a dot of ambergris on a downy site; as said of him the poet and said full right,
“A moon which blights you12 if you dare behold;
A branch which folds you in its waving fold:
Locks of the Zanj13 and golden glint of hair;
Sweet gait and form a spear to have and hold:
Ah! hard of heart with softest slenderest waist,
That evil to this weal why not remould?14
Were thy form’s softness placed in thy heart,
Ne’er would thy lover find thee harsh and cold:
Oh thou accuser! be my love’s excuser,
Nor chide if love-pangs deal me woes untold!
I bear no blame: ’tis all my hear and eyne;
So leave thy blaming, let me yearn and pine.”
Now the handsome youth knew not the affair of the damsel; and his father had enjoined her closely, saying, “Know, O my daughter, that I have bought thee as a bedfellow for our King, Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni; and I have a son who is a Satan for girls and leaves no maid in the neighbourhood without taking her maidenhead; so be on thy guard against him and beware of letting him see thy face or hear they voice.” “Hearkening and obedience,” said the girl; and he left her and fared forth. Some days after this it happened by decree of Destiny, that the damsel repaired to the baths in the house, where some of the slave women bathed her; after which she arrayed herself in sumptuous raiment; and her beauty and loveliness were thereby redoubled. Then she went in to the Wazir’s wife and kissed her hand; and the dame said to her, “Naiman! May it benefit thee,15 O Anis al-Jalis!16 Are not our baths handsome?” “O my mistress,” she replied, “I lacked naught there save thy gracious presence.” Thereupon the lady said to her slave-women, “Come with us to the Hammam, for it is some days since we went there:” they answered, “To hear is to obey!” and rose and all accompanied her. Now she had set two little slave-girls to keep the door of the private chamber wherein was Anis al-Jalis and had said to them, “Suffer none go in to the damsel.” Presently, as the beautiful maiden sat resting in her rooms, suddenly came in the Wazir’s son whose name was Nur al-Din Ali,17 and asked after his mother and her women, to which the two little slave-girls replied, “They are in the Hammam.” But the damsel, Anis al-Jalis, had heard from within Nur al-Din Ali’s voice and had said to herself, “O would Heaven I saw what like is this youth against whom the Wazir warned me, saying that he hath not left a virgin in the neighbourhood without taking her virginity: by Allah, I do long to have sight of him!” So she sprang to her feet with the freshness of the bath on her and, stepping to the door, looked at Nur al-Din Ali and saw a youth like the moon in its full and the sight bequeathed her a thousand sighs. The young man also glanced at her and the look make him heir to a thousand thoughts of care; and each fell into Love’s ready snare. Then he stepped up to the two little slave-girls and cried aloud at them; whereupon both fled before him and stood afar off to see what he would do. And behold, he walked to the door of the damsel’s chamber and, opening it, went in and asked her “Art thou she my father bought for me?” and she answered “Yes.” Thereupon the youth, who was warm with wine, came up to her and embraced her; then he took her legs and passed them round his waist and she wound her arms about his neck, and met him with kisses and murmurs of pleasure and amorous toyings. Next he sucked her tongue and she sucked his, and lastly, he loosed the strings of her petticoat-trousers and abated her maidenhead. When the two little slave-girls saw their young master get in unto the damsel, Anis al-Jalis, they cried out and shrieked; so as soon as the youth had had his wicked will of her, he rose and fled forth fearing the consequences of his ill-doing. When the Wazir’s wife heard the slave-girls’ cries, she sprang up and came out of the baths with the perspiration pouring from her face, saying, “What is this unseemly clamour in the house18?” Then she came up to the two little slave-girls and asked them saying, “Fie upon you! what is the matter?”; and both answered, “Verily our lord Nur al-Din came in and beat us, so we fled; then he went up to Anis al-Jalis and threw his arms round her and we know not what he did after that; but when we cried out to thee he ran away.” Upon this the lady went to Anis al-Jalis and said to her, “What tidings?” “O my lady,” she answered, “as I was sitting here lo! a handsome young man came in and said to me:— Art thou she my father bought for me?; and I answered Yes; for, by Allah, O mistress mine, I believed that his words were true; and he instantly came in and embraced me.” “Did he nought else with thee but this?” quoth the lady, and quoth she, “Indeed he did! But he did it only three times.” “He did not leave thee without dishonouring thee!” cried the Wazir’s wife and fell to weeping and buffetting her face, she and the girl and all the handmaidens, fearing lest Nur al-Din’s father should kill him.19 Whilst they were thus, in came the Wazir and asked what was the matter, and his wife said to him, “Swear that whatso I tell thee thou wilt attend to it.” “I will,” answered he. So she related to him what his son had done, whereat he was much concerned and rent his raiment and smote his face till his nose bled, and plucked out his beard by the handful. “Do not kill thyself,” said his wife, “I will give thee ten thousand dinars, her price, of my own money.” But he raised his head and cried, “Out upon thee! I have no need of her purchase-money: my fear is lest life as well as money go.” “O my lord, and how is that?” “Wottest thou not that yonder standeth our enemy Al Mu’ín bin Sáwí who, as soon as he shall hear of this matter, will go up to the Sultan”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Supplementarily to note 2, p. 2, [FN#2 Vol 1] and note 2, p. 14, [FN#21 Vol 1] vol. i., I may add that “Shahrázád,” in the Shams al-Loghat, is the P.N. of a King. L. Langlès (Les Voyages de Sindibâd Le Marin et La Ruse des Femmes, first appended to Savary’s Grammar and reprinted 12 mot pp. 161 + 113, Imprimerie Royale, Paris, M.D.CCC.XIV) explains it by Le cyprès, la beauté de la ville; and he is followed by (A. de Biberstein) Kazimirski (Ends el-Djelis Paris, Barrois, 1847). Ouseley (Orient. Collect.) makes Shahrzád=town-born; and others an Arabisation of Chehr-ázád (free of face, ingenuous of countenance) the petit nom of Queen Humay, for whom see the Terminal Essay. The name of the sister, whom the Fihrist converts into a Kahramánah, or nurse, vulgarly written Dínár-zád, would= child of gold pieces, freed by gold pieces, or one who has no need of gold pieces: Dínzád=child of faith and Daynázád, proposed by Langlès, “free from debt (!)” I have adopted Macnaghten’s Dunyazad. “Shahryar,” which Scott hideously writes “Shier ear,” is translated by the Shams, King of the world, absolute monarch and the court of Anushir wan while the Burhán-i-Káti’a renders it a King of Kings, and P.N. of a town. Shahr-báz is also the P.N. of a town in Samarcand.
2 Arab. “Malik,” here used as in our story-books: “Pompey was a wise and powerful King” says the Gesta Romanorum. This King is, as will appear, a Regent or Governor under Harun al-Rashid. In the next tale he is Viceroy of Damascus, where he is also called “Sultan.”
3 The Bull Edit. gives the lines as follows:—
The lance was his pen, and the hearts of his foes
His paper, and dipped he in blood for ink;
Hence our sires entitled the spear Khattíyah,
Meaning that withal man shall write, I think.
The pun is in “Khattíyah” which may mean a writer (feminine) and also a spear, from Khatt Hajar, a tract in the province Al–Bahrayn (Persian Gulf), and Oman, where the best Indian bamboos were landed and fashioned into lances. Imr al-Keys (Mu’allakah v. 4.) sings of “our dark spears firmly wrought of Khattiyan cane;” Al–Busírí of “the brown lances of Khatt;” also see Lebid v. 50 and Hamásah pp. 26, 231, Antar notes the “Spears of Khatt” and “Rudaynian lances.” Rudaynah is said to have been the wife of one Samhár, the Ferrara of lances; others make her the wife of Al–Ka’azab and hold Sambár to be a town in Abyssinia where the best weapons were manufactured The pen is the Calamus or Kalam (reed cut for pen) of which the finest and hardest are brought from Java: they require the least ribbing. The rhetorical figure in the text is called Husn al-Ta’alíl, our aetiology; and is as admirable to the Arabs as it appears silly to us.
4 “He loves folk” is high praise, meaning something more than benevolence and beneficence.. Like charity it covers a host of sins.
5 The sentence is euphuistic.
6 Arab. “Rubb”=syrup a word Europeanised by the “Rob Laffecteur.”
7 The Septentriones or four oxen and their wain.
8 The list fatally reminds us of “astronomy and the use of the globes” . . . “Shakespeare and the musical glasses.”
9 The octave occurs in Night xv. I quote Torrens (p. 360) by way of variety.
10 A courteous formula of closing with the offer.
11 To express our “change of climate” Easterns say, “change of water and air,” water coming first.
12 “The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night” (Psalm cxxi. 6). Easterns still believe in the blighting effect of the moon’s rays, which the Northerners of Europe, who view it under different conditions, are pleased to deny. I have seen a hale and hearty Arab, after sitting an hour in the moonlight, look like a man fresh from a sick bed; and I knew an Englishman in India whose face was temporarily paralysed by sleeping with it exposed to the moon.
13 The negroids and negroes of Zanzibar.
14 i.e. Why not make thy heart as soft as thy sides! The converse of this was reported at Paris during the Empire, when a man had by mistake pinched a very high personage: “Ah, Madame! if your heart be as hard as (what he had pinched) I am a lost man.”
15 “Na’íman” is said to one after bathing or head-shaving: the proper reply, for in the East every sign of ceremony has its countersign, is “Allah benefit thee!” (Pilgrimage i. 11, iii. 285; Lane M. E. chaps. viii.; Caussin de Perceval’s Arabic Grammar, etc., etc.) I have given a specimen (Pilgrimage i., 122) not only of sign and countersign, but also of the rhyming repartee which rakes love. Hanien! (pleasant to thee! said when a man drinks). Allah pleasure thee (Allah yuhanník which Arnauts and other ruffians perverted to Allah yaník, Allah copulate with thee); thou drinkest for ten! I am the cock and thou art the hen! (i.e. a passive catamite) Nay, I am the thick one (the penis which gives pleasure) and thou art the thin! And so forth with most unpleasant pleasantries.
16 In the old version she is called “The Fair Persian,” probably from the owner: her name means “The Cheerer of the Companion.”
17 Pronounce “Nooraddeen.” I give the name written in Arabic.
18 Amongst Moslems, I have said, it is held highly disgraceful when the sound of women’s cries can be heard by outsiders.
19 In a case like this, the father would be justified by Rasm (or usage) not by Koranic law, in playing Brutus with his son. The same would be the case in a detected intrigue with a paternal concubine and, in very strict houses, with a slave-girl.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir said to his wife, “Wottest thou not that yonder standeth our enemy Al–Mu’ín bin Sáwí who, as soon as he hears of this matter will go up to the Sultan and say to him, ‘Thy Wazir who, thou wilt have it loveth thee, took from thee ten thousand ducats and bought therewith a slave-girl whose like none ever beheld; but when he saw her, she pleased him and he said to his son, ‘Take her: thou art worthier of her than the Sultan.’ So he took her and did away with her virginity and she is now in his house.’ The King will say, ‘Thou liest!’ to which he will reply, ‘With thy leave I will fall upon him unawares and bring her to thee.’ The King will give him warranty for this and he will come down upon the house and will take the girl and present her to the Sultan, who will question her and she will not be able to deny the past. Then mine enemy will say, ‘O my lord, thou wottest that I give thee the best of counsel; but I have not found favour in thine eyes.’ Thereupon the Sultan will make an example of me, and I shall be a gazing-stock to all the people and my life will be lost.” Quoth his wife, “Let none know of this thing which hath happened privily, and commit thy case to Allah and trust in Him to save thee from such strait; for He who knoweth the future shall provide for the future.” With this she brought the Wazir a cup of wine and his heart was quieted, and he ceased to feel wrath and fear. Thus far concerning him; but as regards his son Nur al-Din Ali, fearing the consequence of his misdeed he abode his day long in the flower garden and came back only at night to his mother’s apartment where he slept; and, rising before dawn, returned to the gardens. He ceased not to do thus for two whole months without showing his face to his parent, till at last his mother said to his father, “O my lord, shall we lose our boy as well as the girl? If matters continue long in this way he will flee from us.” “And what to do?” asked he; and she answered, “Do thou watch this night; and, when he cometh, seize on him and frighten him: I will rescue him from thee and do thou make peace with him and give him the damsel to wife, for she loveth him as he loveth her. And I will pay thee her price.” So the Minister say up that night and, when his son came, he seized him and throwing him down knelt on his breast and showed as thou he would cut his throat; but his mother ran to the youth’s succour and asked her husband, “What wouldest thou do with him?” He answered her, “I will split his weasand.” Said the son to the father, “Is my death, then, so light a matter to thee?”; and his father’s eyes welled with tears, for natural affection moved him, and he rejoined, “O my son, how light was to thee the loss of my good and my life!” Quoth Nur al-Din, “Hear, O my father, what the poet hath said,
‘Forgive me! thee-ward sinned I, but the wise
Ne’er to the sinner shall deny his grace:
Thy foe may pardon sue when lieth he
In lowest, and thou holdest highest place!’”
Thereupon the Wazir rose from off his son’s breast saying, “I forgive thee!”; for his heart yearned to him; and the youth kissed the hand of his sire who said, “O my son, were I sure that thou wouldest deal justly by Anis al-Jalis, I would give her to thee.” “O my father, what justice am I to do to her?” “I enjoin thee, O my son, not to take another wife or concubine to share with her, nor sell her.” “O my father! I swear to thee that verily I will not do her injustice in either way.” Having sworn to that effect Nur al-Din went in to the damsel and abode with her a whole year, whilst Allah Almighty caused the King to forget the matter of the maiden; and Al–Mu’ín, though the affair came to his ears, dared not divulge it by reason of the high favour in which his rival stood with the Sultan. At the end of the year Al–Fazl went one day to the public baths; and, as he came out whilst he was still sweating, the air struck him1 and he caught a cold which turned to a fever; then he took to his bed. His malady gained ground and restlessness was longsome upon him and weakness bound him like a chain; so he called out, “Hither with my son;” and when Nur al-Din Ali came he said to him, “O my son, know that man’s lot and means are distributed and decreed; and the end of days by all must be dree’d; and that every soul drain the cup of death is nature’s need.” The he repeated these lines,
“I die my death, but He alone is great who dieth not!
And well I wot, soon shall I die, for death was made my lot:
A King there’s not that dies and holds his kingdom in his hand,
For Sovranty the Kingdom is of Him who dieth not.”
Then he continued, “O my son, I have no charge to leave thee save that thou fear Allah and look to the issues of thine acts and bear in mind my injunctions anent Anis al-Jalis.” “O my father!” said Nur al-Din, “who is like unto thee? Indeed thou art famed for well doing and preachers offer prayers for thee in their pulpits!” Quoth Al–Fazl, “O my son, I hope that Allah Almighty may grant me acceptance!” Then he pronounced the Two Testimonies,2 or Professions of the Faith, and was recorded among the blessed. The palace was filled with crying and lamentation and the news of his death reached the King, and the city-people wept, even those at their prayers and women at household cares and the school-children shed tears for Bin-Khákán. Then his son Nur al-Din Ali arose and made ready his funeral, and the Emirs and Wazirs and high Officers of State and city-notables were present, amongst them the Wazir al-Mu’ín bin Sáwí. And as the bier went forth from the house some one in the crowd of mourners began to chant these lines,
“On the fifth day I quitted al my friends for evermore,
And they laid me out and washed me on a slab without my door:3
They stripped me of the clothes I was ever wont to wear,
And they clothed me in the clothes which till then I never wore.
On four men’s necks they bore me and carried me from home
To chapel; and some prayed for him on neck they bore:
They prayed for me a prayer that no prostration knows;4
They prayed for me who praised me and were my friends of yore;
And they laid me in a house with a ceiling vaulted o’er,
And Time shall be no more ere it ope to me its door.”
When they had shovelled in the dust over him and the crowd had dispersed, Nur al-Din returned home and he lamented with sobs and tears; and the tongue of the case repeated these couplets,
“On the fifth day at even-tide they went away from me:
Farewelled them as faring they made farewell my lot:
But my spirit as they went, with them went and so I cried,
‘Ah return ye!’ but replied she, ‘Alas! return is not
To a framework lere and lorn that lacketh blood and life,
A frame whereof remaineth naught but bones that rattle and rot:
Mine eyes are blind and cannot see quencht by the flowing tear!
Mine ears are dull and lost to sense: they have no power to hear!’”
He abode a long time sorrowing for his father till, one day, as he was sitting at home, there came a knocking at the door; so he rose in haste and opening let in a man, one of his father’s intimates and who had been the Wazir’s boon-companion. The visitor kissed Nur al-Din’s hand and said to him, “O my lord, he who hath left the like of thee is not dead; and this way went also the Chief of the Ancients and the Moderns. 5 O my lord Ali, be comforted and leave sorrowing.” Thereupon Nur al-Din rose and going to the guest-saloon transported thither all he needed. Then he assembled his companions and took his handmaid again; and, collecting round him ten of the sons of the merchants, began to eat meat and drink wine, giving entertainment after entertainment and lavishing his presents and his favours. One day his Steward came to him and said, “O my lord Nur al-Din, hast thou not heard the saying, Whoso spendeth and reckoneth not, to poverty wendeth and recketh not?” And he repeated what the poet wrote,
“I look to my money and keep it with care,
For right well I wot ’tis my buckler and brand:
Did I lavish my dirhams on hostilest foes,6
I should truck my good luck by mine ill luck trepanned:
So I’ll eat it and drink it and joy in my wealth;
And no spending my pennies on others I’ll stand:
I will keep my purse close ’gainst whoever he be;
And a niggard in grain a true friend ne’er I fand:
Far better deny him than come to say:— Lend,
And five-fold the loan shall return to thy hand!
And he turns face aside and he sidles away,
While I stand like a dog disappointed, unmanned,
Oh, the sorry lot his who hath yellow-boys none,
Though his genius and virtues shine bright as the sun!
O my master,” continued the Steward, “this lavish outlay and these magnificent gifts waste away wealth.” When Nur al-Din Ali heard these words he looked at his servant and cried, “Of all thou hast spoken I will not heed one single word, for I have heard the saying of the poet who saith,
‘An my palm be full of wealth and my wealth I ne’er bestow,
A palsy take my hand and my foot ne’er rise again!
Show my niggard who by niggardise e’er rose to high degree,
Or the generous gifts generally hath slain.’”
And he pursued, “Know, O Steward, it is my desire that so long as thou hast money enough for my breakfast, thou trouble me not with taking thought about my supper.” Thereupon the Steward asked, “Must it be so?”; and he answered, “It must.” So the honest man went his way and Nur al-Din Ali devoted himself to extravagance; and, if any of his cup-companions chanced to say, “This is a pretty thing;” he would reply, “’Tis a gift to thee!”; or if another said, “O my lord, such a house is handsome;” he would answer, “Take it: it is thine!” After this reckless fashion he continued to live for a whole year, giving his friends a banquet in the morning and a banquet in the evening and a banquet at midnight, till one day, as the company was sitting together, the damsel Anis al-Jalis repeated these lines,
“Thou deemedst well of Time when days went well,
And feardest not what ills might deal thee Fate:
Thy nights so fair and restful cozened thee,
For peaceful nights bring woes of heavy weight.”
When she had ended her verse behold, somebody knocked at the door. So Nur al-Din rose to open it and one of his boon-companions followed him without being perceived. At the door he found his Steward and asked him, “What is the matter?”; and he answered, “O my lord, what I dreaded for thee hath come to pass!” “How so?” “Know that there remains not a dirham’s worth, less or more in my hands. Here are my Daftars and account books showing both income and outlay and the registers of thine original property.” When Nur al-Din heard these words he bowed his head and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!” When the man who had followed him privily to spy on him heard the Steward’s words, he returned to his friends and warned them saying, “Look ye well to what ye do: Nur al-Din is penniless;” and, as the young host came back to his guests, vexation showed itself in his face. Thereupon one of the intimates rose; and, looking at the entertainer, said to him, “O my lord, may be thou wilt give me leave to retire?” “And why so early retirement this day?”; asked he and the other answered him, “My wife is in childbirth and I may not be absent from her: indeed I must return and see how she does.” So he gave him leave, whereupon another rose and said, “O my lord Nur al-Din, I wish now to go to my brother’s for he circumciseth his son to-day.”7 In short each and every asked permission to retire on some pretence or other, till all the ten were gone leaving Nur al-Din alone. Then he called his slave-girl and said to her, “O Anis al-Jalis, hast thou seen what case is mine?” And he related to her what the Steward had told him. Then quoth she, “O my lord, for many nights I had it in my mind to speak with thee of this matter, but I heard thee repeating,
‘When the World heaps favours on thee, pass on
Thy favours to friends ere her hand she stay:
Largesse never let her when fain she comes,
Nor niggardise kept her from turning away!’
When I heard these verses I held my peace and cared not to exchange a word with thee.” “O Anis al-Jalis,” said Nur al-Din, “thou knowest that I have not wasted my wealth save on my friends, especially these ten who have now left me a pauper, and I think they will not abandon and desert me without relief.” “By Allah,” replied she, “they will not profit thee with aught of aid.” Said he, “I will rise at once and go to them and knock at their doors; it may be I shall get from them somewhat wherewith I may trade and leave pastime and pleasuring.” So he rose without stay or delay, and repaired to a street wherein all his ten friends lived. He went up to the nearest door and knocked; whereupon a handmaid came out and asked him, “Who art thou?”; and he answered, “Tell thy master that Nur al-Din Ali standeth at the door and saith to him, ‘Thy slave kisseth thy hand and awaiteth thy bounty.’” The girl went in and told her master, who cried at her, “Go back and say, ‘My master is not at home.’” So she returned to Nur al-Din, and said to him, “O my lord, my master is out.” Thereupon he turned away and said to himself, “If this one be a whoreson knave and deny himself, another may not prove himself such knave and whoreson.” Then he went up to the next door and sent in a like message to the house-master, who denied himself as the first had done, whereupon he began repeating,
“He is gone who when to his gate thou go’st,
Fed thy famisht maw with his boiled and roast.”
When he had ended his verse he said, “By Allah, there is no help but that I make trial of them all: perchance there be one amongst them who will stand me in the stead of all the rest.” So he went the round of the ten, but not one of them would open his door to him or show himself or even break a bit of bread before him; whereupon he recited,
“Like a tree is he who in wealth doth wone,
And while fruits he the folk to his fruit shall run:
But when bared the tree of what fruit it bare,
They leave it to suffer from dust and sun.
Perdition to all of this age! I find
Ten rogues for every righteous one.”
Then he returned to his slave-girl and his grief had grown more grievous and she said to him, “O my lord, did I not tell thee, none would profit thee with aught of aid?” And he replied, “By Allah, not one of them would show me his face or know me!” “O my lord,” quoth she, “sell some of the moveables and household stuff, such as pots and pans, little by little; and expend the proceeds until Allah Almighty shall provide.” So he sold all of that was in the house till nothing remained when he turned to Anis al-Jalis and asked her “What shall we do now?”; and she answered, “O my lord, it is my advice that thou rise forthwith and take me down to the bazar and sell me. Thou knowest that they father bought me for ten thousand dinars: haply Allah may open thee a way to get the same price, and if it be His will to bring us once more together, we shall meet again.” “O Anis al-Jalis,” cried he, “by Allah it is no light matter for me to be parted from thee for a single hour!” “By Allah, O my lord,” she replied, “nor is it easy to me either, but Need hath its own law, as the poet said,
‘Need drives a man into devious roads,
And pathways doubtful of trend and scope:
No man to a rope8 will entrust his weight,
Save for cause that calleth for case of rope.’”
Thereupon he rose to his feet and took her,9 whilst the tears rolled down his cheek like rain; and he recited with the tongue of the case these lines,
“Stay! grant one parting look before we part,
Nerving my heart this severance to sustain:
But, an this parting deal thee pain and bane,
Leave me to die of love and spare thee pain!”
Then he went down with her to the bazar and delivered her to the broker and said to him, “O Hajj Hasan,10 I pray thee note the value of her thou hast to cry for sale.” “O my lord Nur al-Din,” quoth the broker, “the fundamentals are remembered;”11 adding, “Is not this the Anis al-Jalis whom thy father bought of me for ten thousand dinars?” “Yes,” said Nur al-Din. Thereupon the broker went round to the merchants, but found that all had not yet assembled. So he waited till the rest had arrived and the market was crowded with slave-girls of all nations, Turks, Franks and Circassians; Abyssinians, Nubians and Takruris;12 Tartars, Georgians and others; when he came forward and standing cried aloud, “O merchants! O men of money! every round thing is not a walnut and every long thing a banana is not; all reds are not meat nor all whites fat, nor is every brown thing a date!13 O merchants, I have here this union-pearl that hath no price: at what sum shall I cry her?” “Cry her at four thousand five hundred dinars,” quoth one of the traders. The broker opened the door of sale at the sum named and, as he was yet calling, lo! the Wazir Al–Mu’ín bin Sáwí passed through the bazar and, seeing Nur al-Din Ali waiting at one side, said to himself, “Why is Khákán’s son14 standing about here? Hath this gallows-bird aught remaining wherewith to buy slave-girls?” Then he looked round and, seeing the broker calling out in the market with all the merchants around him, said to himself, “I am sure that he is penniless and hath brought hither the damsel Anis al-Jalis for sale;” adding, “O how cooling and grateful is this to my heart!” Then he called the crier, who came up and kissed the ground before him; and he said to him, “I want this slave-girl whom thou art calling for sale.” The broker dared not cross him, so he answered, “O my lord, Bismillah! in Allah’s name so be it;” and led forward the damsel and showed her to him. She pleased him much whereat he asked, “O Hasan, what is bidden for this girl?” and he answered, “Four thousand five hundred dinars to open the door of sale.” Quoth Al–Mu’ín, “Four thousand five hundred is my bid.” When the merchants heard this, they held back and dared not bid another dirham, wotting what they did of the Wazir’s tyranny, violence and treachery. So Al–Mu’ín looked at the broker and said to him, “Why stand still? Go and offer four thousand dinars for me and the five hundred shall be for thyself.” Thereupon the broker went to Nur al-Din and said, “O my lord, thy slave is going for nothing!” “And how so?” asked he. The broker answered, “We had opened the biddings for her at four thousand five hundred dinars; when that tyrant, Al–Mu’ín bin Sáwí, passed through the bazar and, as he saw the damsel she pleased him, so he cried to me, ‘Call me the buyer at four thousand dinars and thou shalt have five hundred for thyself.’ I doubt not but that he knoweth that the damsel if thine, and if he would pay thee down her price at once it were well; but I know his injustice and violence; he will give thee a written order upon some of his agents and will send after thee to say to them, ‘Pay him nothing.’ So as often as though shalt go in quest of the coin they will say, ‘We’ll pay thee presently!’ and they will put thee off day after day, and thou art proud of spirit; till at last, when they are wearied with thine importunity, they will say, ‘Show us the cheque.’ Then, as soon as they have got hold of it they will tear it up and so thou wilt lose the girl’s price.” When Nur al-Din heard this he looked at the broker and asked him, “How shall this matter be managed?”; and he answered, “I will give thee a counsel which, if thou follow, it shall bring thee complete satisfaction.” “And what is that?” quoth Nur al-Din. Quoth the broker, “Come thou to me anon when I am standing in the middle of the market and, taking the girl from my hand, give her a sound cuffing and say to her, ‘Thou baggage, I have kept my vow and brought thee down to the slave-market, because I swore an oath that I would carry thee from home to the bazar, and make brokers cry thee for sale.’ If thou do this, perhaps the device will impose upon the Wazir and the people, and they will believe that thou broughtest her not to the bazar, but for the quittance of thine oath.” He replied, “Such were the best way.” Then the broker left him and, returning into the midst of the market, took the damsel by the hand, and signed to the Wazir and said, “O my lord, here is her owner.” With this up came Nur al-Din Ali and, snatching the girl from the broker’s hand, cuffed her soundly and said to her, “Shame on thee, O thou baggage! I have brought thee to the bazar for quittance of mine oath; now get thee home and thwart me no more as is thy wont. Woe to thee! do I need thy price, that I should sell thee? The furniture of my house would fetch thy value many times over!” When Al–Mu’ín saw this he said to Nur al-Din, “Out on thee! Hast thou anything left for selling or buying?” And he would have laid violent hands upon him, but the merchants interposed (for they all loved Nur al-Din), and the young man said to them, “Here am I in your hands and ye all know his tyranny.” “By Allah,” cried the Wazir, “but for you I had slain him!” Then all signed with significant eyes to Nur al-Din as much as to say, “Take thy wreak of him; not one of us will come between thee and him.” Thereupon Nur al-Din, who was stout of heart as he was stalwart of limb, went up to the Wazir and, dragging him over the pommel of his saddle, threw him to the ground. Now there was in that place a puddling — pit for brick-clay,15 into the midst of which he fell, and Nur al-Din kept pummelling and fisti-cuffing him, and one of the blows fell full on his teeth, and his beard was dyed with his blood. Also there were with the minister ten armed slaves who, seeing their master entreated after this fashion, laid hand on sword-hilt and would have bared blades and fallen on Nur al-Din to cut him down; but the merchants and bystanders said to them, “This is a Wazir and that is the son of a Wazir; haply they will make friends some time or other, in which case you will forfeit the favour of both. Or perchance a blow may befal your lord, and you will all die the vilest of deaths; so it were better for you not to interfere.” Accordingly they held aloof and, when Nur al-Din had made an end of thrashing the Wazir, he took his handmaid and fared homewards. Al–Mu’ín also went his ways at once, with his raiment dyed of three colours, black with mud, red with blood and ash coloured with brick-clay. When he saw himself in this state, he bound a bit of matting16 round his neck and, taking in hand two bundles of coarse Halfah-grass,17 went up to the palace and standing under the Sultan’s windows cried aloud, “O King of the age, I am a wronged man! I am foully wronged!” So they brought him before the King who looked at him; and behold, it was the chief Minister; whereupon he said, “O Wazir who did this deed by thee?” Al–Mu’ín wept and sobbed and repeated these lines,
“Shall the World oppress me when thou art in’t?
In the lion’s presence shall wolves devour?
Shall the dry all drink of thy tanks and I
Under rain-cloud thirst for the cooling shower?”
“O my lord,” cried he, “the like will befal every one who loveth and serveth thee well.” “Be quick with thee,” quoth the Sultan, “and tell me how this came to pass and who did this deed by one whose honour is part of my honour.” Quoth the Wazir, “Know, O my lord, that I went out this day to the slave-market to buy me a cookmaid, when I saw there a damsel, never in my life long saw I a fairer; and I designed to buy her for our lord the Sultan; so I asked the broker of her and of her owner, and he answered, “She belongeth to Ali son of Al–Fazl bin Khákán. Some time ago our lord the Sultan gave his father ten thousand dinars wherewith to buy him a handsome slave-girl, and he bought this maiden who pleased him; so he grudged her to our lord the Sultan and gave her to his own son. When the father died, the son sold all he had of houses and gardens and household gear, and squandered the price till he was penniless. Then he brought the girl to the market that he might sell her, and he handed her over to the broker to cry and the merchants bid higher and higher on her, until the price reached four thousand dinars; whereupon quoth I to myself, ‘I will buy this damsel for our lord the Sultan, whose money was paid for her.’ So I said to Nur al-Din, ‘O my son, sell her to me for four thousand dinars.’ When he heard my words he looked at me and cried, ‘O ill-omened oldster, I will sell her to a Jew or to a Nazarene, but I will not sell her to thee!’ ‘I do not buy her for myself,’ said I, ‘I buy her for our lord and benefactor the Sultan.’ Hearing my words he was filled with rage; and, dragging me off my horse (and I a very old man), beat me unmercifully with his fists and buffeted me with his palms till he left me as thou seest, and all this hath befallen me only because I thought to buy this damsel for thee!” Then the Wazir threw himself on the ground and lay there weeping and shivering. When the Sultan saw his condition and heard his story, the vein of rage started out between his eyes18 and he turned to his body-guard who stood before him, forty white slaves, smiters with the sword, and said to them, “Go down forthright to the house built by the son of Khákán and sack it and raze it and bring to me his son Nur al-Din with the damsel; and drag them both on their faces with their arms pinioned behind them.” They replied, “To hear is to obey;” and, arming themselves, they set out for the house of Nur al-Din Ali. Now about the Sultan was a Chamerlain, Alam19 al-Din Sanjar hight, who had aforetime been Mameluke to Al–Fazl; but he had risen in the world and the Sultan had advanced him to be one of his Chamberlains. When he heard the King’s command and saw the enemies make them ready to slay his old master’s son, it was grievous to him: so he went out from before the Sultan and, mounting his beast, rode to Nur al-Din’s house and knocked at the door. Nur al-Din came out and knowing him would have saluted him: but he said, “O my master this is no time for greeting or treating. Listen to what the poet said,
‘Fly, fly with thy life if by ill overtaken!
Let thy house speak thy death by its builder forsaken!
For a land else than this land thou may’st reach, my brother,
But thy life tho’lt ne’er find in this world another.’”20
“O Alam al-Din what cheer?” asked Nur al-Din, and he answered, “Rise quickly and fly for thy life, thou and the damsel; for Al-Mu’ín hath set a snare for you both; and, if you fall into his hands, he will slay you. The Sultan hath despatched forty sworders against you and I counsel you to flee ere harm can hurt you.” Then Sanjar put his hand to his purse and finding there forty gold pieces took them and gave them to Nur al-Din, saying, “O my lord receive these and journey with them. Had I more I would give them to thee, but this is not the time to take exception.” Thereupon Nur al-Din went in to the damsel and told her what had happened, at which she wrung her hands. Then they fared forth at once from the city, and Allah spread over them His veil of protection, so that they reached the river-bank where they found a vessel ready for sea. Her skipper was standing amidships and crying, “Whoso hath aught to do, whether in the way of provisioning or taking leave of his people; or whoso hath forgotten any needful thing, let him do it at once and return, for we are about to sail”; and all of them saying, “There is naught left to be done by us, O captain!”, he cried to his crew, “Hallo there! cast off the cable and pull up the mooring-pole!”21 Quoth Nur al-Din, “Whither bound, O captain?” and quoth he, “To the House of Peace, Baghdad,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Orientals fear the “Zug” or draught as much as Germans; and with even a better reason. Draughts are most dangerous in hot climates.
2 The Unity of the Godhead and the Apostleship of Mohammed.
3 This would be done only in the case of the very poor.
4 Prayers over the dead are not universal in Al–Islam; but when they are recited they lack the “sijdah” or prostration.
5 Or, “Of the first and the last,” i.e. Mohammed, who claimed (and claimed justly) to be the “Seal” or head and end of all Prophets and Prophecy. For note that whether the Arab be held inspired or a mere imposter, no man making the same pretension has moved the world since him. Mr. J. Smith the Mormon (to mention one in a myriad) made a bold attempt and failed.
6 i.e. flatterers.
7 In one matter Moslems contrast strongly with Christians, by most scrupulously following the example of their law-giver: hence they are the model Conservatives. But (European) Christendom is here, as in other things, curiously contradictory: for instance, it still keeps a “Feast of the Circumcision,” and practically holds circumcision in horror. Eastern Christians, however, have not wholly abolished it, and the Abyssinians, who find it a useful hygenic precaution, still practise it. For ulcers, syphilis and other venereals which are readily cured in Egypt become dangerous in the Highlands of Ethiopia.
8 Arab. “Sabab,” the orig. and material sense of the word; hence “a cause,” etc.
9 Thus he broke his promise to his father, and it is insinuated that retribution came upon him.
10 “O Pilgrim” (Ya Hájj) is a polite address even to those who have not pilgrimaged. The feminine “Hájjah” (in Egypt pronounced “Hággeh”) is similarly used.
11 Arab. “usúl”=roots, i.e. I have not forgotten my business.
12 Moslems from Central and Western North Africa. (Pilgrimage i. 261; iii. 7, etc); the “Jabarti” is the Moslem Abyssinian.
13 This is a favourite bit of chaff and is to be lengthened out almost indefinitely e.g. every brown thing is not civet nor every shining thing a diamond; every black thing is not charcoal nor every white chalk; every red thing is not a ruby nor every yellow a topaz; every long-necked thing is not a camel, etc., etc., etc.
14 He gives him the name of his grandfather; a familiar usage.
15 Arab. “Ma’janah,” a place for making unbaked bricks (Tob=Span. Adobe) with chaff and bruised or charred straw. The use of this article in rainless lands dates from ages immemorial, and formed the outer walls of the Egyptian temple.
16 Arab. “Barsh,” a bit of round matting used by the poor as a seat. The Wazir thus showed that he had been degraded to the condition of a mat-maker.
17 The growth (a Poa of two species) which named Wady Halfá (vulg. “Halfah”), of which the home public has of late heard perhaps a trifle too much. Burckhardt (Prov. 226) renders it “dry reeds”— incorrectly enough.
18 This “Háshimi” vein, as they call it, was an abnormal development between the eyes of the house of Abbas, inherited from the great — grandfather of the Prophet; and the latter had it remarkably large, swelling in answer and battle-rage. The text, however, may read “The sweat of wrath,” etc.
19 Torrens and Payne prefer “Ilm”=knowledge. Lane has more correctly “Alam”=a sign, a flag.
20 The lines were in Night xi.: I have quoted Torrens (p. 379) for a change.
21 Still customary in Tigris–Euphrates land, where sea-craft has not changed since the days of Xisisthrus–Noah, and long before.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the skipper answered, “To the House of Peace, Baghdad,” Nur al-Din Ali and the damsel went on board, and they launched the craft and shook out the sails, and the ship sped forth as though she were a bird on wing; even as said one of them and said right well,
“Watch some tall ship, she’ll joy the sight of thee,
The breeze outstripping in her haste to flee;
As when a bird, with widely-spreading wings,
Leaveth the sky to settle on the sea.”
So the vessel sailed on her fastest and the wind to her was fairest. Thus far concerning them; but as regards the Mamelukes, they went to Nur al-Din’s mansion and, breaking open the doors, entered and searched the whole place, but could find no trace of him and the damsel; so they demolished the house and, returning to the Sultan, reported their proceedings; whereupon quoth he, “Make search for them both, wherever they may be;” and they answered, “Hearing is obeying.” The Wazir Al–Mu’ín had also gone home after the Sultan had bestowed upon him a robe of honour, and had set his heart at rest by saying, “None shall take blood-wreak for thee save I;” and he had blessed the King and prayed for his long life and prosperity. Then the Sultan bade proclaim about the city, “Oyez, O ye lieges one and all! It is the will of our lord the Sultan that whoso happeneth on Nur al-Din Ali son of Al-Fazl bin Khákán, and bringeth him to the Sultan, shall receive a robe of honour and one thousand gold pieces; and he who hideth him or knoweth his abiding place and informeth not, deserveth whatsoever pains and penalties shall befal him.” So all began to search for Nur al-Din Ali, but they could find neither trace nor tidings of him. Meanwhile he and his handmaid sailed on with the wind right aft, till they arrived in safety at Baghdad, and the captain said to them, “This is Baghdad and ’tis the city where security is to be had: Winter with his frosts hath turned away and Prime hath come his roses to display; and the flowers are a-glowing and the trees are blowing and the streams are flowing.” So Nur al-Din landed, he and his handmaid and, giving the captain five dinars, walked on a little way till the decrees of Destiny brought them among the gardens, and they came to a place swept and sprinkled, with benches along the walls and hanging jars filled with water.1 Overhead was a trellis of reed-work and canes shading the whole length of the avenue, and at the upper end was a garden gate, but this was locked. “By Allah,” quoth Nur al-Din to the damsel, “right pleasant is this place!”; and she replied, “O my lord sit with me a while on this bench and let us take our ease.” So they mounted and sat them down on the bench, after which they washed their faces and hands; and the breeze blew cool on them and they fell asleep and glory be to Him who never sleepeth! Not this garden was named the Garden of Gladness2 and therein stood a belvedere hight the Palace of Pleasure and the Pavilion of Pictures, the whole belonging to the Caliph Harun al-Rashid who was wont, when his breast was straitened with care, to frequent garden and palace and there to sit. The palace had eighty latticed windows and fourscore lamps hanging round a great candelabrum of gold furnished with wax-candles; and, when the Caliph used to enter, he would order the handmaids to throw open the lattices and light up the rooms; and he would bid Ishak bin Ibrahim the cup-companion and the slave-girls to sing till his breast was broadened and his ailments were allayed. Now the keeper of the garden, Shaykh Ibrahim, was a very old man, and he had found from time to time, when he went out on any business, people pleasuring about the garden gate with their bona robas; at which he was angered with exceeding anger.3 But he took patience till one day when the Caliph came to his garden; and he complained of this to Harun al-Rashid who said, “Whomsoever thou surprisest about the door of the garden, deal with him as thou wilt.” Now on this day the Gardener chanced to be abroad on some occasion and returning found these two sleeping at the gate covered with a single mantilla; whereupon said he, “By Allah, good! These twain know not that the Caliph hath given me leave to slay anyone I may catch at the door; but I will give this couple a shrewd whipping, that none may come near the gate in future.” So he cut a green palm-frond4 and went up to them and, raising his arm till the white of his arm-pit appeared, was about to strike them, when he bethought himself and said, “O Ibrahim, wilt thou beat them unknowing their case? Haply they are strangers or of the Sons of the Road,5 and the decrees of Destiny have thrown them here. I will uncover their faces and look at them.” So he lifted up the mantilla from their heads and said, “They are a handsome couple; it were not fitting that I should beat them.” Then he covered their faces again and, going to Nur al-Din’s feet, began to rub and shampoo them,6 whereupon the youth opened his eyes and, seeing an old man of grave and reverend aspect rubbing his feet, he was ashamed and drawing them in, sat up. Then he took Shaykh Ibrahim’s hand and kissed it. Quoth the old man, “O my son, whence art thou?”; and quoth he, “O my lord, we two are strangers,” and the tears started from his eyes. “O my son,” said Shaykh Ibrahim, “know that the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!) hath enjoined honour to the stranger;” and added, “Wilt not thou arise, O my son, and pass into the garden and solace thyself by looking at it and gladden thy heart?” “O my lord,” said Nur al-Din, “to whom doth this garden belong?;” and the other replied, “O my son, I have inherited it from my folk.” Now his object in saying this was to set them at their ease and induce them to enter the garden. So Nur al-Din thanked him and rose, he and the damsel, and followed him into the garden; and lo! it was a garden, and what a garden! The gate was arched like a great hall and over walls and roof ramped vines with grapes of many colours; the red like rubies and the black like ebonies; and beyond it lay a bower of trelliced boughs growing fruits single and composite, and small birds on branches sang with melodious recite, and the thousand-noted nightingale shrilled with her varied shright; the turtle with her cooing filled the site; the blackbird whistled like human wight7 and the ring-dove moaned like a drinker in grievous plight. The trees grew in perfection all edible growths and fruited all manner fruits which in pairs were bipartite; with the camphor-apricot, the almond-apricot and the apricot “Khorasani” hight; the plum, like the face of beauty, smooth and bright; the cherry that makes teeth shine clear by her sleight, and the fig of three colours, green, purple and white. There also blossomed the violet as it were sulphur on fire by night; the orange with buds like pink coral and marguerite; the rose whose redness gars the loveliest cheeks blush with despight; and myrtle and gilliflower and lavender with the blood-red anemone from Nu’uman hight. The leaves were all gemmed with tears the clouds had dight; the chamomile smiled showing teeth that bite, and Narcissus with his negro8 eyes fixed on Rose his sight; the citrons shone with fruits embowled and the lemons like balls of gold; earth was carpeted with flowers tinctured infinite; for Spring was come brightening the place with joy and delight; and the streams ran ringing, to the birds’ gay singing, while the rustling breeze upspringing attempered the air to temperance exquisite. Shaykh Ibrahim carried them up into the pavilion, and they gazed on its beauty, and on the lamps aforementioned in the latticed windows; and Nur al-Din, remembering his entertainments of time past, cried, “By Allah, this is a pleasant place; it hath quenched in me anguish which burned as a fire of Ghaza-wood.9” Then they sat down and Shaykh Ibrahim set food before them; and they ate till they were satisfied and washed their hands: after which Nur al-Din went up to one of the latticed windows, and, calling to his handmaid fell to gazing on the trees laden with all manner fruits. Presently he turned to the Gardener and said to him, “O Shaykh Ibrahim hast thou no drink here, for folk are wont to drink after eating?” The Shaykh brought him sweet water, cool and pleasant, but he said, “This is not the kind of drink I wanted.” “Perchance thou wishest for wine?” “Indeed I do, O Shaykh!” “I seek refuge from it with Allah: it is thirteen years since I did this thing, for the Prophet (Abhak10) cursed its drinker, presser, seller and carrier!” “Hear two words of me.” “Say on.” “If yon cursed ass11 which standeth there be cursed, will aught of his curse alight upon thee?” “By no means!” “Then take this dinar and these two dirhams and mount yonder ass and, halting afar from the wine-shop, call the first man thou seest buying liquor and say to him, ‘Take these two dirhams for thyself, and with this dinar buy me some wine and set it on the ass.’ So shalt thou be neither the presser, nor the buyer, nor the carrier; and no part of the curse will fall upon thee.” At this Shaykh Ibrahim laughed and said, “By Allah, O my son, I never saw one wilier of wit than thou art, nor heard aught sweeter than thy speech.” So he did as he was bidden by Nur al-Din who thanked him and said, “We two are now dependent on thee, and it is only meet that thou comply with our wishes; so bring us here what we require.” “O my son,” replied he, “this is my buttery before thee” (and it was the store-room provided for the Commander of the Faithful); “so go in, and take whatso thou wilt, for there is over and above what thou wantest.” Nur al-Din then entered the pantry and found therein vessels of gold and silver and crystal set with all kinds of gems, and was amazed and delighted with what he saw. Then he took out what he needed and set it on and poured the wine into flagons and glass ewers, whilst Shaykh Ibrahim brought them fruit and flowers and aromatic herbs. Then the old man withdrew and sat down at a distance from them, whilst they drank and made merry, till the wine got the better of them, so that their cheeks reddened and their eyes wantoned like the gazelle’s; and their locks became dishevelled and their brightness became yet more beautiful. Then said Shaykh Ibrahim to himself, “What aileth me to sit apart from them? Why should I not sit with them? When shall I ever find myself in company with the like of these two that favour two moons?” So he stepped forward and sat down on the edge of the dais, and Nur al-Din said to him, “O my lord, my life on thee, come nearer to us!” He came and sat by them, when Nur al-Din filled a cup and looked towards the Shaykh and said to him, “Drink, that thou mayest try the taste of it!” “I take refuge from it with Allah!” replied he; “for thirteen years I have not done a thing of the kind.” Nur al-Din feigned to forget he was there and, drinking off the cup, threw himself on the ground as if the drink had overcome him; whereupon Anis al-Jalis glanced at him and said, “O Shaykh Ibrahim see how this husband of mine treateth me;” and he answered, “O my lady, what aileth him?” “This is how he always serveth me,” cried she, “he drinketh awhile, then falleth asleep and leaveth me alone with none to bear me company over my cup nor any to whom I may sing when the bowl goeth round.” Quoth the Shaykh (and his mien unstiffened for that his soul inclined towards her), “By Allah, this is not well!” Then she crowned a cup and looking towards him said, “By my life thou must take and drink it, and not refuse to heal my sick heart!” So he put forth his hand and took it and drank it off and she filled a second and set it on the chandelier and said, “O master mine, there is still this one left for thee.” “By Allah, I cannot drink it;” cried he, “what I have already drunk is enough for me;” but she rejoined, “By Allah, there is no help for it.” So he took the cup and drank; and she filled him a third which he took and was about to drink when behold, Nur al-Din rolled round and sat upright — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 To cool the contents.
2 Hence the Khedivial Palace near Cairo “Kasr al-Nuzhah;” literally, “of Delights;” one of those flimsy new-Cairo buildings which contrast so marvellously with the architecture of ancient and even of mediæval Egypt, and which are covering the land with modern ruins. Compare Mohammed Ali’s mosque in the citadel with the older Sultan Hasan. A popular tale is told that, when the conquering Turk, Yáwúz Sultan Selim, first visited Cairo, they led him to Mosque Al–Ghúrí. “This is a splendid Ká‘ah (saloon)!” quoth he. When he entered Sultan Hasan, he exclaimed, “This is a citadel!”; but after inspecting the Mosque Al–Mu’ayyad he cried, “’Tis a veritable place of prayer, a fit stead for the Faithful to adore the Eternal!”
3 Arab. gardeners are very touchy on this point. A friend of mine was on a similar occasion addressed, in true Egyptian lingo, by an old Adam-son, “Ya ibn al-Kalb! beta’mil ay?” (O dog-son, what art thou up to?).
4 “The green palm-stick is of the trees of Paradise;” say the Arabs in Solomonic style but not Solomonic words: so our “Spare the rod,” etc.
5 Wayfarers, travellers who have a claim on the kindness of those at home: hence Abd al-Rahman al-Burai sings in his famous Ode:—
He hath claim on the dwellers in the places of their birth,
Whoso wandereth the world, for he lacketh him a home.
It is given in my “First Footsteps in East Africa” (pp. 53–55).
6 The good old man treated the youth like a tired child.
7 In Moslem writings the dove and turtle-dove are mostly feminine, whereas the female bird is always mute and only the male sings to summon or to amuse his mate.
8 An unsavoury comparison of the classical Narcissus with the yellow white of a nigger’s eyes.
9 A tree whose coals burn with fierce heat: Al–Hariri (Vth Seance). This Artemisia is like the tamarisk but a smaller growth and is held to be a characteristic of the Arabian Desert. A Badawi always hails with pleasure the first sight of the Ghazá, after he has sojourned for a time away from his wilds. Mr. Palgrave (i. 38) describes the “Ghadá” as an Euphorbia with a woody stem often 5–6 feet high and slender, flexible green twigs (?), “forming a feathery tuft, not ungraceful to the eye, while it affords some shelter to the traveller, and food to his camels.”
10 Arab. “Sal’am”=S(alla) A(llah) a(layhi) was S(allam); A(llah) b(less) h(im) a(nd) k(eep)=Allah keep him and assain!
11 The ass is held to be ill-omened. I have noticed the braying elsewhere. According to Mandeville the Devil did not enter the Ark with the Ass, but he left it when Noah said “Benedicite.” In his day (A.D. 1322) and in that of Benjamin of Tudela, people had seen and touched the ship on Ararat, the Judi (Gordiæi) mountains; and this dates from Berosus (S.C. 250) who, of course, refers to the Ark of Xisisthrus. See Josephus Ant. i. 3, 6; and Rodwell (Koran, pp. 65, 530).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din sat upright and said, “Ho, Shaykh Ibrahim, what is this? Did I not adjure thee a while ago and thou refusedst, saying, ‘What I! ’tis thirteen years ago since I have done such a thing!’” “By Allah,” quoth the Shaykh (and indeed he was abashed), “no sin of mine this, she forced me to do it.” Nur al-Din laughed and they sat down again to wine and wassail, but the damsel turned to her master and said in a whisper, “O my lord, drink and do not press him, that I may show thee some sport with him.” Then she began to fill her master’s cup and he hers and so they did time after time, till at last Shaykh Ibrahim looked at them and said, “What fashion of good fellowship is this? Allah curse the glutton who keepeth the cup to himself! Why dost thou not give me to drink, O my brother? What manners are these, O blessed one?” At this the two laughed until they fell on their backs; then they drank and gave him to drink and ceased not their carousal till a third part of the night was past. Then said the damsel, “O Shaykh Ibrahim, with thy leave I will get up and light one of these candles.” “Do so,” he replied, “but light no more than one.” So she sprang to her feet and, beginning with one candle, lighted all the eighty and sat down again. Presently Nur al-Din said, “O Shaykh Ibrahim, in what favour am I with thee? May I not light one of these lamps?” “Light one,” replied he, “and bother me no more in thy turn!” So he rose and lighted one lamp after another, till he had lighted the whole eight and the palace seemed to dance with brilliancy. Quoth the Shaykh (and indeed intoxication had overcome him), “Ye two are bolder than I am.” Then he rose to his feet and opened all the lattices and sat down again; and they fell to carousing and reciting verses till the place rang with their noisy mirth. Now Allah, the Decreer who decreeth all things and who for every effect appointeth a cause, had so disposed that the Caliph was at that moment sitting in the light of the moon at one of the windows of his palace overlooking the Tigris. He saw the blaze of the lamps and wax candles reflected in the river and, lifting his eyes, perceived that it came from the Garden Palace which was all ablaze with brilliancy. So he cried, “Here to me with Ja’afar the Barmaki!”; and the last word was hardly spoken ere the Wazir was present before the Commander of the Faithful, who cried at him, “O dog of a Minister, hast thou taken from me this city of Baghdad without saying aught to me?” “What words are these words?” asked Ja’afar; and the Caliph answered, “If Baghdad city were not taken from me, the Palace of Pictures would not be illuminated with lamps and candles, nor would its windows be thrown open. Woe to thee! who durst do a deed like this except the Caliphate had been taken from me?” Quoth Ja’afar (and indeed his side-muscles trembled as he spoke), “Who told thee that the Palace of Pictures was illuminated and the windows thrown open?” “Come hither and see,” replied the Caliph. Then Ja’afar came close to the Caliph and, looking towards the garden, saw the palace blazing with illumination that rayed through the gloom of the night; and, thinking that this might have been permitted by the keeper for some reason of his own, he wished to make an excuse for him; so quoth he, “O Commander of the Faithful, Shaykh Ibrahim said to me last week, ‘O my lord Ja’afar, I much wish to circumcise my sons during the life of the Commander of the Faithful and thy life.’ I asked, ‘What dost thou want?’; and he answered, ‘Get me leave from the Caliph to hold the festival in the Garden Palace.’ So said I to him, ‘Go circumcise them and I will see the Caliph and tell him.’ Thereupon he went away and I forgot to let thee know.” “O Ja’afar,” said the Caliph, “thou hast committed two offences against me; first in that thou didst no report to me, secondly, thou didst not give him what he sought; for he came and told thee this only as excuse to ask for some small matter of money, to help him with the outlay; and thou gavest him nothing nor toldest me.” “O Commander of the Faithful,” said Ja’afar, “I forgot.” “Now by the rights of my forefathers and the tombs of my forbears,” quoth the Caliph, “I will not pass the rest of this night save in company with him; for truly he is a pious man who frequenteth the Elders of the Faith and the Fakirs and other religious mendicants and entertaineth them; doubtless they are not assembled together and it may be that the prayer of one of them will work us weal both in this world and in the next. Besides, my presence may profit and at any rate be pleasing to Shaykh Ibrahim.” “O Commander of the Faithful,” quoth Ja’afar, “the greater part of the night is passed, and at this time they will be breaking up.” Quoth the Caliph, “It matters not: I needs must go to them.” So Ja’afar held his peace, being bewildered and knowing not what to do. Then the Caliph rose to his feet and, taking with him Ja’afar and Masrur the eunuch sworder, the three disguised themselves in merchants’ gear and leaving the City-palace, kept threading the streets till they reached the garden. The Caliph went up to the gate and finding it wide open, was surprised and said, “See, O Ja’afar, how Shaykh Ibrahim hath left the gate open at this hour contrary to his custom!” They went in and walked on till they came under the pavilion, when the Caliph said, “O Ja’afar, I wish to look in upon them unawares before I show myself, that I may see what they are about and get sight of the elders; for hitherto I have heard no sound from them, nor even a Fakir calling upon the name of Allah.1” Then he looked about and, seeing a tall walnut-tree, said to Ja’afar, “I will climb this tree, for its branches are near the lattices and so look in upon them.” Thereupon he mounted the tree and ceased not climbing from branch to branch, till he reached a bough which was right opposite one of the windows, and here he took seat and looked inside the palace. He saw a damsel and a youth as they were two moons (glory be to Him who created them and fashioned them!), and by them Shaykh Ibrahim seated cup in hand and saying, “O Princess of fair ones, drinking without music is nothing worth; indeed I have heard a poet say,
‘Round with bit and little, the bowl and cup,
Take either than moon2 in his sheen hath crowned:
Nor drink without music, for oft I’ve seen,
The horse drink best to the whistle’s sound!’”
When the Caliph saw this, the vein of wrath started up between his eyes and he came down and said to the Wazir, “O Ja’afar, never beheld I yet men of piety in such case; so do thou mount this tree and look upon them, lest the blessings of the blest be lost to thee.” Ja’afar, hearing the words of the Commander of the Faithful and being confounded by them, climbed to the tree-top and looking in, saw Nur al-Din and the damsel, and Shaykh Ibrahim holding in his hand a brimming bowl. At this sight he made sure of death and, descending, stood before the Commander of the Faithful, who said to him, “O Ja’afar, praise be to Allah who hath made us of those that observe external ordinances of Holy Law and hath averted from us the sin of disguising ourselves after the manner of hypocrites!”3 But Ja’afar could not speak a word for excess of confusion; so the Caliph looked at him and said, “I wonder how they came hither, and who admitted them into my pavilion! But aught like the beauty of this youth and this damsel my eyes never yet saw!” “Thou sayest sooth, O our Lord the Sultan!” replied Ja’afar (and he hoped to propitiate the Caliph Harun al-Rashid). Then quoth the Caliph, “O Ja’afar, let us both mount the branch opposite the window, that we may amuse ourselves with looking at them.” So the two climbed the tree and, peering in, heard Shaykh Ibrahim say, “O my lady, I have cast away all gravity mine by the drinking of wine, but ’tis not sweet save with the soft sounds of the lute-strings it combine.” “By Allah,” replied Anis al-Jalis, “O Shaykh Ibrahim, an we had but some instrument of music our joyance were complete.” Hearing this he rose to his feet and the Caliph said to Ja’afar, “I wonder what he is about to do!” and Ja’afar answered, “I know not.” The Shaykh disappeared and presently reappeared bringing a lute; and the Caliph took not of it and knew it for that of Abu Ishak the Cup-companion.4 “By Allah,” said the Caliph, “if this damsel sing ill I will crucify all of you; but if she sing well I will forgive them and only gibbet thee.” “O Allah cause her to sing vilely!” quoth Ja’afar. Asked the Caliph, “Why so?”; and he answered, “If thou crucify us all together, we shall keep one another company.” The Caliph laughed at his speech. Presently the damsel took the lute and, after looking at it and tuning it, she played a measure which made all hearts yearn to her; then she sang these lines,
“O ye that can aid me, a wretched lover,
Whom longing burns nor can rest restore me!
Though all you have done I have well deserved,
I take refuge with you, so exult not o’er me:
True, I am weak and low and vile,
But I’ll bear your will and whatso you bore me:
My death at your hands what brings it of glory?
I fear but your sin which of life forlore me!”
Quoth the Caliph, “By Allah, good! O Ja’afar, never in my life have I heard a voice so enchanting as this.” “Then haply the Caliph’s wrath hath passed away,” said Ja’afar, and he replied, “Yes, ’tis gone.” Thereupon they descended from the tree, and the Caliph said to Ja’afar, “I wish to go in and sit with them and hear the damsel sing before me.” “O Commander of the Faithful,” replied Ja’afar, “if thou go in to them they will be terribly troubled, and Shaykh Ibrahim will assuredly die of fright.” But the Caliph answered, “O Ja’afar, thou must teach me some device wherewith to delude them and whereby I can foregather with them without their knowing me.” So they walked towards the Tigris pondering the matter, and presently came upon a fisherman who stood fishing under the pavilion windows. Now some time before this, the Caliph (being in the pavilion) had called to Shaykh Ibrahim and asked him, “What noise is this I hear under the windows?” and he had answered, “It is voices of fisher folk catching fish:” so quoth the Caliph, “Go down and forbid them this place;” and he forbade them accordingly. However that night a fisherman named Karim, happening to pass by and seeing the garden gate open, said to himself, “This is a time of negligence; and I will take advantage of it to do a bit of fishing.” So he took his net and cast it, but he had hardly done so when behold, the Caliph come up single-handed and, standing hard by, knew him and called aloud to him, “Ho, Karim!” The fisherman, hearing himself named, turned round, and seeing the Caliph, trembled and his side-muscles quivered, as he cried, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I did it not in mockery of the mandate; but poverty and a large family drove me to what thou seest!” Quoth the Caliph, “Make a cast in my name.” At this the fisherman was glad and going to the bank threw his net, then waiting till it had spread out at full stretch and settled down, hauled it up and found in it various kinds of fish. The Caliph was pleased and said, “O Karim, doff thy habit.” So he put off a gaberdine of coarse woollen stuff patched in an hundred places whereon the lice were rampant, and a turband which had never been untwisted for three years but to which he had sown every rag he came upon. The Caliph also pulled off his person two vests of Alexandrian and Ba’lbak silk, a loose inner robe and a long-sleeved outer coat, and said to the fisherman, “Take them and put them on,” while he assumed the foul gaberdine and filthy turband and drew a corner of the head-cloth as a mouth-veil5 before his face. Then said he to the fisherman, “Get thee about thy business!; and the man kissed the Caliph’s feet and thanked him and improvised the following couplets,
“Thou hast granted more favours than ever I craved;
Thou hast satisfied needs which my heart enslaved:
I will thank thee and thank whileas life shall last,
And my bones will praise thee in grave engraved!”
Hardly had the fisherman ended his verse, when the lice began to crawl over the Caliph’s skin, and he fell to catching them on his neck with his right and left and throwing them from him, while he cried, “O fisherman, woe to thee! what be this abundance of lice on thy gaberdine.” “O my lord,” replied he, “they may annoy thee just at first, but before a week is past thou wilt not feel them nor think of them.” The Caliph laughed and said to him, “Out on thee! Shall I leave this gaberdine of thine so long on my body?” Quoth the fisherman, “I would say a word to thee but I am ashamed in presence of the Caliph!”; and quoth he, “Say what thou hast to say.” “It passed through my thought, O Commander of the Faithful,” said the fisherman, “that, since thou wishest to learn fishing so thou mayest have in hand an honest trade whereby to gain thy livelihood, this my gaberdine besitteth thee right well.”6 The Commander of the Faithful laughed at this speech, and the fisherman went his way. Then the Caliph took up the basket of fish and, strewing a little green grass over it, carried it to Ja’afar and stood before him. Ja’afar thinking him to be Karim the fisherman feared for him and said, “O Karim, what brought thee hither? Flee for thy life, for the Caliph is in the garden to-night and, if he see thee, thy neck is gone.” At this the Caliph laughed and Ja’afar recognized him and asked, “Can it be thou, our lord the Sultan?”; and he answered, “Yes, O Ja’afar, and thou art my Wazir and I and thou came hither together; yet thou knowest me not; so how should Shaykh Ibrahim know me, and he drunk? Stay here, till I came back to thee.” “To hear is to obey,” said Ja’afar. Then the Caliph went up to the door of the pavilion and knocked a gentle knock, whereupon said Nur al-Din,” O Shaykh Ibrahim, some one taps at the door.” “Who goes there?” cried the Shaykh and the Caliph replied, “It is I, O Shaykh Ibrahim!” “Who art thou,” quoth he, and quoth the other, “I am Karim the fisherman: I hear thou hast a feast, so I have brought thee some fish, and of a truth ’tis good fish.” When Nur al-Din heard the mention of fish, he was glad, he and the damsel, and they both said to the Shaykh, “O our lord, open the door and let him bring us his fish.” So Shaykh Ibrahim opened and the Caliph came in (and he in fisherman guise), and began by saluting them. Said Shaykh Ibrahim, “Welcome to the blackguard, the robber, the dicer! Let us see thy fish.” So the Caliph showed them his catch and behold, the fishes were still alive and jumping, whereupon the damsel exclaimed, “By Allah! O my lord, these are indeed fine fish: would they were fried!” and Shaykh Ibrahim rejoined, “By Allah, O my lady, thou art right.” Then said he to the Caliph, “O fisherman, why didst thou not bring us the fish ready fried? Up now and cook them and bring them back to us.” “On my head be thy commands!” said the Caliph, “I will fry thee a dish and bring it.” Said they, “Look sharp.” Thereupon he went and ran till he came up to Ja’afar when he called to him, “Hallo, Ja’afar!”; and he replied, “Here am I, O Commander of the Faithful, is all well?” “They want the fish fried,” said the Caliph, and Ja’afar answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, give it to me and I’ll fry it for them.” “By the tombs of my forbears,” quoth the Caliph, “none shall fry it but I, with mine own hand!” So he went to the gardener’s hut, where he searched and found all that he required, even to salt and saffron and wild marjoram and else besides. Then he turned to the brasier and, setting on the frying-pan, fried a right good fry. When it was done, he laid it on a banana-leaf, and gathering from the garden wind-fallen fruits, limes and lemons, carried the fish to the pavilion and set the dish before them. So the youth and the damsel and Shaykh Ibrahim came forward and ate; after which they washed their hands and Nur al-Din said to the Caliph, “By Allah, O fisherman, thou hast done us a right good deed this night.” Then he put hand in pouch and, taking out three of the dinars which Sanjar had given him, said, “O fisherman, excuse me. By Allah had I known thee before that which hath lately befallen me, I had done away the bitterness of poverty from thy heart; but take thou this as the best I can do for thee.” Then he threw the gold pieces to the Caliph, who took them and kissed them and put them in pouch. Now his sole object in doing all this was to hear the damsel sing; so he said to Nur al-Din, “Thou hast rewarded me most liberally, but I beg of thy boundless bounty that thou let this damsel sing an air, that I may hear her.”7 So Nur al-Din said, “O Anis al-Jalis!” and she answered “Yes!” and he continued, “By my life, sing us something for the sake of this fisherman who wisheth so much to hear thee.” Thereupon she took the lute and struck the strings, after she had screwed them tight and tuned them, and sang these improvised verses,
“The fawn of a maid hent her lute in hand
And her music made us right mettlesome:
For her song gave hearing to ears stone-deaf,
While Brava! Brava! exclaimed the dumb.”
Then she played again and played so ravishingly, that she charmed their wits and burst out improvising and singing these couplets,
“You have honoured us visiting this our land,
And your splendour illumined the glooms that blent:
So ’tis due that for you I perfume my place
With rose-water, musk and the camphor-scent!”
Hereupon the Caliph was agitated, and emotion so overpowered him that he could not command himself for excess of pleasure, and he exclaimed, “By Allah, good! by Allah, good! by Allah, good!”8 Asked Nur al-Din, “O fisherman, doth this damsel please thee?” and the Caliph answered, “Ay, by Allah!” Whereupon said Nur al-Din, “She is a gift to thee, a gift of the generous who repenteth him not of his givings and who will never revoke his gift!” Then he sprang to his feet and, taking a loose robe, threw it over the fisherman and bade him receive the damsel and be gone. But she looked at him and said, “O my lord, art thou faring forth without farewell? If it must be so, at least stay till I bid thee good-bye and make known my case.” And she began versifying in these verses,
“When love and longing and regret are mine,
Must not this body show of ills a sign?
My love! say not, ‘Thou soon shalt be consoled’;
When state speaks state none shall allay my pine.
If living man could swim upon his tears,
I first should float on waters of these eyne:
O thou, who in my heart infusedst thy love,
As water mingles in the cup with wine,
This was the fear I feared, this parting blow.
O thou whose love my heart-core ne’er shall tyne!
O Bin Khákán! my sought, my hope, my will,
O thou whose love this breast make wholly thine!
Against thy lord the King thou sinn’dst for me,
And winnedst exile in lands peregrine:
Allah ne’er make my lord repent my loss
To cream9 o’ men thou gavest me, one right digne.”
When she had ended her verses, Nur al-Din answered her with these lines,
“She bade me farewell on our parting day,
And she wept in the fire of our bane and pains:
‘What wilt thou do when fro’ thee I’m gone?’
Quoth I, ‘say this to whom life remains!’”
When the Caliph heard her saying in her verse,
“To Karim, the cream of men thou gavest me;”
his inclination for her redoubled and it seemed a hard matter and a grievous to part them; so quoth he to the youth, “O my lord, truly the damsel said in her verses that thou didst transgress against her master and him who owned her; so tell me, against whom didst thou transgress and who is it hath a claim on thee?” “By Allah, O fisherman,” replied Nur al-Din, “there befel me and this damsel a wondrous tale and a marvellous matter: an ‘t were graven with needle-gravers on the eye-corners it would be a warner to whoso would be warned.” Cried the Caliph, “Wilt thou not tell me thy story and acquaint me with thy case? Haply it may bring thee relief, for Allah’s aid is ever nearhand.” “O fisherman,” said Nur al-Din, “Wilt thou hear our history in verse or in prose?” “Prose is a wordy thing, but verses,” rejoined the Caliph, “are pearls on string.” Then Nur al-Din bowed his head, and made these couplets,
“O my friend! reft of rest no repose I command,
And my grief is redoubled in this far land:
Erst I had a father, a kinder ne’er was;
But he died and to Death paid the deodand:
When he went from me, every matter went wrong
Till my heart was nigh-broken, my nature unmanned:
He bought me a handmaid, a sweeting who shamed
A wand of the willow by Zephyr befanned:
I lavisht upon her mine heritage,
And spent like a nobleman puissant and grand:
Then to sell her compelled, my sorrow increased;
The parting was sore but I mote not gainstand:
Now as soon as the crier had called her, there bid
A wicked old fellow, a fiery brand:
So I raged with a rage that I could not restrain,
And snatched her from out of his hireling’s hand;
When the angry curmudgeon made ready for blows,
And the fire of a fight kindled he and his band,
I smote him in fury with right and with left,
And his hide, till well satisfied, curried and tanned:
Then in fear I fled forth and lay hid in my house,
To escape from the snares which my foeman had spanned:
So the King of the country proclaimed my arrest;
When access to me a good Chamberlain found:
And warned me to flee from the city afar,
Disappear, disappoint what my enemies planned:
Then we fled from our home ‘neath the wing of the night,
And sought us a refuge by Baghdad strand:
Of my riches I’ve nothing on thee to bestow,
O Fisher, except the fair gift thou hast scanned:
The loved of my soul, and when I from her part,
Know for sure that I give thee the blood of my heart.”10
When he had ended his verse, the Caliph said to him, “O my lord Nur al-Din, explain to me thy case more fully,” So he told him the whole story from beginning to end, and the Caliph said to him, “Whither dost thou now intend?” “Allah’s world is wide,” replied he. Quoth the Caliph, “I will write thee a letter to carry to the Sultan Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni, which when he readeth, he will not hurt nor harm thee in aught.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 As would happen at a “Zikr,” rogation or litany. Those who wish to see how much can be made of the subject will read “Pearls of the Faith, or Islam’s Rosary, being the ninety-nine beautiful names of Allah” (Asmá-el-Husna) etc. by Edwin Arnold: London, Trübner, 1883.
2 i.e. the Sáki, cup-boy or cup-bearer. “Moon-faced,” as I have shown elsewhere, is no compliment in English, but it is in Persian and Arabic.
3 He means we are “Záhirí,” plain honest Moslems, not “Bátiní,” gnostics (ergo reprobates) and so forth, who disregard all appearances and external ordinances. This suggests his opinion of Shaykh Ibrahim and possibly refers to Ja’afar’s suspected heresy.
4 This worthy will be noticed in a subsequent page.
5 Arab. “Lisám,” the end of the “Kufiyah,” or head-kerchief passed over the face under the eyes and made fast on the other side. This mouth-veil serves as a mask (eyes not being recognisable) and defends from heat, cold and thirst. I also believe that hooding the eyes with this article, Badawi-fashion, produces a sensation of coolness, at any rate a marked difference of apparent temperature; somewhat like a pair of dark spectacles or looking at the sea from a sandy shore. (Pilgrimage i., 210 and 346.) The woman’s “Lisám” (chin-veil) or Yashmak is noticed in i., 337.
6 Most characteristic is this familiarity between the greatest man then in the world and his pauper subject. The fisherman alludes to a practise of Al–Islman, instituted by Caliph Omar, that all rulers should work at some handicraft in order to spare the public treasure. Hence Sultan Mu’ayyad of Cairo was a calligrapher who sold his handwriting, and his example was followed by the Turkish Sultans Mahmúd, Abd al-Majíd and Abd al-Azíz. German royalties prefer carpentering and Louis XVI, watch-making.
7 There would be nothing singular in this request. The democracy of despotism levels all men outside the pale of politics and religion.
8 “Wa’lláhi tayyib!” an exclamation characteristic of the Egyptian Moslem.
9 The pretended fisherman’s name Karím=the Generous.
10 Such an act of generosity would appear to Europeans well-nigh insanity, but it is quite in Arab manners. Witness the oft-quoted tale of Hatim and his horse. As a rule the Arab is the reverse of generous, contrasting badly, in this point, with his cousin the Jew: hence his ideal of generosity is of the very highest. “The generous (i.e. liberal) is Allah’s friend, aye, though he be a sinner; and the miser is Allah’s foe, aye, though he be a saint!” Indian Moslems call a skin-flint Makhi-chús = fly-sucker. (Pilgrimage i. 242.)
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph said to Nur al-Din Ali, “I will write thee a letter to carry to the Sultan Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni, which when he readeth, he will not hurt nor harm thee in aught,” Nur al-Din asked “What! is there in the world a fisherman who writeth to Kings? Such a thing can never be!”; and the Caliph answered, “Thou sayest sooth, but I will tell thee the reason. Know that I and he learnt in the same school under one schoolmaster, and that I was his monitor. Since that time Fortune befriended him and he is become a Sultan, while Allah hath abased me and made me a fisherman; yet I never send to him to ask aught but he doeth my desire; nay, though I should ask of him a thousand favours every day, he would comply.” When Nur al-Din heard this he said, “Good! write that I may see.” So the Caliph took ink-case and reed-pen and wrote as follows — “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate! But after.1 This letter is written by Harun al-Rashid, son of Al–Mahdi, to his highness Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni, whom I have encompassed about with my favour and made my viceroy in certain of my dominions. The bearer of these presents is Nur al-Din Ali, son of Fazl bin Khákán the Wazir. As soon as they come to thy hand divest thyself forthright of the kingly dignity and invest him therewith; so oppose not my commandment and peace be with thee.” He gave the letter to Nur al-Din, who took it and kissed it, then put it in his turband and set out at once on his journey. So far concerning him; but as regards the Caliph, Shaykh Ibrahim stared to him (and he still in fisher garb) and said, “O vilest of fishermen, thou hast brought us a couple of fish worth a score of half-dirhams,2 and hast gotten three dinars for them; and thinkest thou to take the damsel to boot?” When the Caliph heard this, he cried out at him, and signed to Masrur who discovered himself and rushed in upon him. Now Ja’afar had sent one of the gardener-lads to the doorkeeper of the palace to fetch a suit of royal raiment for the Prince of the Faithful; so the man went and, returning with the suit, kissed the ground before the Caliph and gave it him. Then he threw of the clothes he had on3 and donned kingly apparel. Shaykh Ibrahim was still sitting upon his chair and the Caliph tarried to behold what would come next. But seeing the Fisherman become the Caliph, Shaykh Ibrahim was utterly confounded and he could do nothing but bite his finger-ends4 and say, “Would I knew whether am I asleep or am I awake!” At last the Caliph looked at him and cried, “O Shaykh Ibrahim, what state is this in which I see thee?” Thereupon he recovered from his drunkenness and, throwing himself upon the ground, repeated these verses,
“Pardon the sinful ways I did pursue;
Ruth from his lord to every slave is due:
Confession pays the fine that sin demands;
Where, then, is that which grace and mercy sue?”5
The Caliph forgave him and bade carry the damsel to the city-palace, where he set apart for her an apartment and appointed slaves to serve her, saying to her, “Know that we have sent thy lord to be Sultan in Bassorah and, Almighty Allah willing, we will dispatch him the dress of investiture and thee with it.” Meanwhile, Nur al-Din Ali ceased not travelling till he reached Bassorah, where he repaired to the Sultan’s palace and he shouted a long shout.6 The Sultan heard him and sent for him; and when he came into his presence, he kissed the ground between his hands and, producing the letter, presented it to him. Seeing the superscription in the writing of the Commander of the Faithful, the Sultan rose to his feet and kissed it three times; and after reading it said, “I hear and I obey Allah Almighty and the Commander of the Faithful!” Then he summoned the four Kazis7 and the Emirs and was about to divest himself of the rule royal, when behold, in came Al Mu’ín bin Sáwí. The Sultan gave him the Caliph’s letter and he read it, then tore it to pieces and putting it into his mouth, chewed it8 and spat it out. “Woe to thee,” quoth the Sultan (and indeed he was sore angered); “what induced thee to do this deed?” “Now by thy life! O our lord the Sultan,” replied Mu’ín, “this man hath never foregathered with the Caliph nor with his Wazir; but he is a gallows-bird, a limb of Satan, a knave who, having come upon a written paper in the Caliph’s hand, some idle scroll, hath made it serve his own end. The Caliph would surely not send him to take the Sultanate from thee without the imperial autograph9 and the diploma of investiture, and he certainly would have despatched with him a Chamberlain or a Minister. But he hath come alone and he never came from the Caliph, no, never! never! never!” “What is to be done?” asked the Sultan, and the Minister answered, “Leave him to me and I will take him and keep him away from thee, and send him in charge of a Chamberlain to Baghdad-city. Then, if what he says be sooth, they will bring us back autograph and investiture; and if not, I will take my due out of this debtor.” When the Sultan heard the Minister’s words he said, “Hence with thee and him too.” Al Mu’ín took trust of him from the King and, carrying him to his own house, cried out to his pages who laid him flat and beat him till he fainted. Then he let put upon his feet heavy shackles and carried him to the jail, where he called the jailor, one Kutayt,10 who came and kissed the ground before him. Quoth the Wazir, “O Kutayt, I wish thee to take this fellow and throw him into one of the underground cells11 in the prison and torture him night and day.” “To hear is to obey,” replied the jailor and, taking Nur al-Din into the prison, locked the door upon him. Then he gave orders to sweep a bench behind the door and, spreading on it a sitting-rug and a leather-cloth, seated Nur al-Din thereon and loosed his shackles and entreated him kindly. The Wazir sent every day enjoining the jailor to beat him, but he abstained from this, and so continued to do for forty days. On the forty-first day there came a present from the Caliph; which when the Sultan saw, it pleased him and he consulted his Ministers on the matter, when one of them said, “Perchance this present was for the new Sultan.” Cried Al–Mu’ín, “We should have done well had we put him to death at his first coming;” and the Sultan cried “By Allah, thou hast reminded me of him! Go down to the prison and fetch him, and I will strike off his head.” “To hear is to obey,” replied Al–Mu’ín: then he stood up and said, “I will make proclamation in the city:— Whoso would solace himself with seeing the beheading of Nur al-Din bin al-Fazl bin Khákán, let him repair to the palace! So follower and followed, great and small will flock to the spectacle, and I shall heal my heart and harm my foe.” “Do as thou wilt,” said the Sultan. The Wazir went off (and he was glad and gay), and ordered the Chief of Police to make the afore-mentioned proclamation. When the people heard the crier, they all sorrowed and wept, even the little ones at school and the traders in their shops; and some strove to get places for seeing the sight, whilst others went to the prison with the object of escorting him thence. Presently, the Wazir came with ten Mamelukes to the jail and Kutayt the jailor asked him, “Whom seekest thou, O our lord the Wazir?”; whereto he answered, “Bring me out that gallows — bird.” But the jailor said, “He is in the sorriest of plights for the much beating I have given him.” Then he went into the prison and found Nur al-Din repeating these verses,
“Who shall support me in calamities,
When fail all cures and greater cares arise?
Exile hath worm my heart, my vitals torn;
The World to foes hath turned my firm allies.
O folk, will not one friend amidst you all
Wail o’er my woes, and cry to hear my cries?
Death and it agonies seem light to me,
Since life has lost all joys and jollities:
O Lord of Mustafa,12 that Science-sea,
Sole Intercessor, Guide all-ware, all-wise!
I pray thee free me and my fault forego,
And from me drive mine evil and my woe.”
The jailor stripped off his clean clothes and, dressing him in two filthy vests, carried him to the Wazir. Nur al-Din looked at him and saw it was his foe that sought to compass his death; so he wept and said, “Art thou, then, so secure against the World? Hast thou not heard the saying of the poet,
‘Kisras and Caesars in a bygone day
Stored wealth; where it is, and ah! where are they?’
O Wazir,” he continued, “know that Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) will do whatso He will!” “O Ali,” replied he, “thinkest thou to frighten me with such talk? I mean this very day to smite thy neck despite the noses of the Bassorah folk and I care not; let the days do as they please; nor will I turn me to thy counsel but rather to what the poet saith,
‘Leave thou the days to breed their ban and bate,
And make thee strong t’ upbear the weight of Fate.’
And also how excellently saith another,
‘Whoso shall see the death-day of his foe,
One day surviving, wins his bestest wish.’”
Then he ordered his attendants to mount Nur al-Din upon the bare back of a mule; and they said to the youth (for truly it was irksome to them), “Let us stone him and cut him down thou our lives go for it.” But Nur al-Din said to them, “Do not so: have ye not heard the saying of the poet,
‘Needs must I bear the term by Fate decreed,
And when that day be dead needs must I die:
If lions dragged me to their forest-lair,
Safe should I live till draw my death-day nigh.’”
Then they proceeded to proclaim before Nur al-Din, “This is the least of the retribution for him who imposeth upon Kings with forgeries.” And they ceased not parading him round about Bassorah, till they made him stand beneath the palace-windows and set him upon the leather of blood,13 and the sworder came up to him and said, “O my lord, I am but a slave commanded in this matter: an thou have any desire, tell it me that I may fulfil it, for now there remaineth of they life only so much as may be till the Sultan shall put his face out of the lattice.” Thereupon Nur al-Din looked to the right and to the left, and before him and behind him and began improvising,
“The sword, the sworder and the blood-skin waiting me I sight,
And cry, Alack, mine evil fate! ah, my calamity!
How is’t I see no loving friend with eye of sense or soul?
What! no one here? I cry to all: will none reply to me?
The time is past that formed my life, my death term draweth nigh,
Will no man win the grace of God showing me clemency;
And look with pity on my state, and clear my dark despair,
E’en with a draught of water dealt to cool death’s agony?”
The people fell to weeping over him; and the headsman rose and brought him a draught of water; but the Wazir sprang up from his place and smote the gugglet with his hand and broke it: then he cried out at the executioner and bade him strike off Nur al-Din’s head. So he bound the eyes of the doomed man and folk clamoured at the Wazir and loud wailings were heard and much questioning of man and man. At this moment behold, rose a dense dust-cloud filling sky and wold; and when the Sultan, who was sitting in the palace, descried this, he said to his suite, “Go and see what yon cloud bringeth:” Replied Al Mu’ín, “Not till we have smitten this fellow’s neck;” but the Sultan said, “Wait ye till we see what this meaneth.” Now the dust-cloud was the dust of J’afar the Barmecide, Wazir to the Caliph, and his host; and the cause of his coming was as follows. The Caliph passed thirty days without calling to mind the matter of Nur al-Din Ali,14 and none reminded him of it, till one night, as he passed by the chamber of Anis al-Jalis, he heard her weeping and singing with a soft sweet voice these lines of the poet,
“In thought I see thy form when farthest far or nearest near;
And on my tongue there dwells a name which man shall ne’er unhear.”
Then her weeping redoubled; when lo! the Caliph opened the door and, entering the chamber, found Anis al-Jalis in tears. When she saw him she fell to the ground and kissing his feet three times repeated these lines,
“O fertile root and noble growth of trunk;
Ripe-fruitful branch of never sullied race;
I mind thee of what pact thy bounty made;
Far be ‘t from thee thou should’st forget my case!”
Quoth the Caliph, “Who art thou?” and she replied, “I am she whom Ali bin Khákán gave thee in gift, and I wish the fulfilment of thy promise to send me to him with the robe of honour; for I have now been thirty days without tasting the food of sleep.” Thereupon the Caliph sent for Ja’afar and said to him, “O Ja’afar, ’tis thirty days since we have had news of Nur al-Din bin Khákán, and I cannot suppose that the Sultan hath slain him; but, by the life of my head and by the sepulchres of my forefathers, if aught of foul play hath befallen him, I will surely make an end of him who was the cause of it, though he be the dearest of all men to myself! So I desire that thou set out for Bassorah within this hour and bring me tidings of my cousin, King Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni, and how he had dealt with Nur al-Din Ali bin Khákán;” adding, “If thou tarry longer on the road than shall suffice for the journey, I will strike off they head. Furthermore, do thou tell the son of my uncle the whole story of Nur al-Din, and how I sent him with my written orders; and if thou find, O my cousin,15 that the King hath done otherwise than as I commanded, bring him and the Wazir Al–Mu’ín bin Sáwí to us in whatsoever guise thou shalt find them.”16 “Hearing and obedience,” replied Ja’afar and, making ready on the instant, he set out for Bassorah where the news of his coming had foregone him and had reached to the ears of King Mohammed. When Ja’afar arrived and saw the crushing and crowding of the lieges, he asked, “What means all this gathering?” so they told him what was doing in the matter of Nur al-Din; whereupon he hastened to go to the Sultan and saluting him, acquainted him with the cause why he came and the Caliph’s resolve, in case of any foul play having befallen the youth, to put to death whoso should have brought it about. Then he took into custody the King and the Wazir and laid them in ward and, giving order for the release of Nur al-Din Ali, enthroned him as Sultan in the stead of Mohammed bin Sulayman. After this Ja’afar abode three days in Bassorah, the usual guest-time, and on the morning of the fourth day, Nur al-Din Ali turned to him and said, “I long for the sight of the Commander of the Faithful.” Then said Ja’afar to Mohammed bin Sulayman, “Make ready to travel, for we will say the dawn-prayer and mount Baghdad-wards;” and he replied, “To hear is to obey.” Then they prayed and they took horse and set out, all of them, carrying with them the Wazir, Al–Mu’ín bin Sáwí, who began to repent him of what he had done. Nur al-Din rode by Ja’afar’s side and they stinted not faring on till they arrived at Baghdad, the House of Peace, and going in to the Caliph told him how they had found Nur al-Din nigh upon death. Thereupon the Caliph said to the youth, “Take this sword and smite with it the neck of thine enemy.” So he took the sword from his hand and stepped up to Al–Mu’ín who looked at him and said, “I did according to my mother’s milk, do thou according to thine.”17 Upon this Nur al-Din cast the sword from his hand and said to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, he hath beguiled me with his words;” and he repeated this couplet,
“By craft and sleight I snared him when he came;
A few fair words aye trap the noble-game!”
“Leave him then,” cried the Caliph and, turning to Masrur said, “Rise thou and smite his neck.” So Masrur drew his sword and struck off his head. Then quoth the Caliph to Nur al-Din Ali, “Ask a boon of me.” “O my lord,” answered he, “I have no need of the Kingship of Bassorah; my sole desire is to be honoured by serving thee and by seeing the countenance.” “With love and gladness,” said the Caliph. Then he sent for the damsel, Anis al-Jalis, and bestowed plentiful favours upon them both and gave them one of his palaces in Baghdad, and assigned stipends and allowances, and made Nur al-Din Ali bin Fazl bin Khákán, one of his cup-companions; and he abode with the Commander of the Faithful enjoying the pleasantest of lives till death overtook him. “Yet (continued Shahrazad) is not his story in any wise more wondrous than the history of the merchant and his children.” The King asked “And what was that?” and Shahrazad began to relate the
1 Arab. “Ammá ba’ad” or (Wa ba’ad), an initiatory formula attributed to Koss ibn Sa’idat al-Iyadi, bishop of Najrán (the town in Al–Yaman which D’Herbelot calls Negiran) and a famous preacher in Mohammed’s day, hence “more eloquent than Koss” (Maydání, Arab. Prov., 189). He was the first who addressed letters with the incept, “from A. to B.”; and the first who preached from a pulpit and who leant on a sword or a staff when discoursing. Many Moslems date Ammá ba’ad from the Prophet David, relying upon a passage of the Koran (xxxviii. 19).
2 Arab. “Nusf”=half (a dirham): vulgarly pronounced “nuss,” and synonymous with the Egypt. “Faddah” (=silver), the Greek “Asper,” and the Turkish “paráh.” It is the smallest Egyptian coin, made of very base metal and, there being forty to the piastre, it is worth nearly a quarter of a farthing.
3 The too literal Torrens and Lane make the Caliph give the gardener-lad the clothes in which he was then clad, forgetting, like the author or copier, that he wore the fisherman’s lousy suit.
4 In sign of confusion, disappointment and so forth: not “biting his nails,” which is European and utterly un-Asiatic.
5 See lines like these in Night xiii. (i. 136); the sentiment is trite.
6 The Arab will still stand under his ruler’s palace and shout aloud to attract his attention. Sayyid Sa’íd known as the “Imán of Muskat” used to encourage the patriarchal practice. Mohammed repeatedly protested against such unceremonious conduct (Koran xciv. 11, etc.). The “three times of privacy” (Koran cv. 57) are before the dawn prayer, during the Siesta (noon) and after the even-prayer.
7 The Judges of the four orthodox schools.
8 That none might see it or find it ever after.
9 Arab. “Khatt Sharíf”=a royal autographical letter: the term is still preserved in Turkey, but Europeans will write “Hatt.”
10 Meaning “Little tom-cat;” a dim. of “Kitt” vulg. Kutt or Gutt.
11 Arab. “Matmúrah”— the Algerine “Matamor”— a “silo,” made familiar to England by the invention of “Ensilage.”
12 The older “Mustapha”=Mohammed. This Intercession-doctrine is fiercely disputed. (Pilgrimage ii. 77.) The Apostle of Al-Islam seems to have been unable to make up his mind upon the subject: and modern opinion amongst Moslems is apparently borrowed from the Christians.
13 Lane (i. 486) curiously says, “The place of the stagnation of blood:” yet he had translated the word aright in the Introduction (i. 41). I have noticed that the Nat’a is made like the “Sufrah,” of well-tanned leather, with rings in the periphery, so that a thong passed through turns it into a bag. The Sufrah used for provisions is usually yellow, with a black border and small pouches for knives or spoons. (Pilgrimage i. 111.)
14 This improbable detail shows the Caliph’s greatness.
15 “Cousin” is here a term of familiarity, our “coz.”
16 i.e. without allowing them a moment’s delay to change clothes.
17 i.e. according to my nature, birth, blood, de race.
It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that in times of yore and in years and ages long gone before, there lived in Damascus a merchant among the merchants, a wealthy man who had a son like the moon on the night of his fulness2 and withal sweet of speech, who was named Ghánim bin ‘Ayyúb, surnamed the Distraught, the Thrall o’ Love. He had also a daughter, own sister to Ghanim, who was called Fitnah, a damsel unique in beauty and loveliness. Their father died and left them abundant wealth. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Our “Job.” The English translators of the Bible, who borrowed Luther’s system of transliteration (of A.D. 1522), transferred into English the German “j” which has the sound of “i” or “y”; intending us to pronounce Yacob (or Yakob), Yericho, Yimnites, Yob (or Hiob) and Yudah. Tyndall, who copied Luther (A.D. 1525–26), preserved the true sound by writing lacob, Ben Iamin and Iudas. But his successors unfortunately returned to the German; the initial I, having from the xiii century been ornamentally lengthened and bent leftwards, became a consonant. The public adopted the vernacular sound of “j” (da) and hence our language and our literature are disgraced by such barbarisms as “Jehovah” and “Jesus”; Dgehovah and Dgeesus for Yehovah and Yesus. Future generations of school-teachers may remedy the evil; meanwhile we are doomed for the rest of our days to hear
Gee-rusalem! Gee-rusalem! etc.
Nor is there one word to be said in favour of the corruption except that, like the Protestant mispronunciation of Latin and the Erasmian ill-articulation of Greek, it has become English, and has lent its little aid in dividing the Britons from the rest of the civilised world.
2 The moon, I repeat, is masculine in the so-called “Semitic” tongues.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchant left his two children abundant wealth and amongst other things an hundred loads1 of silks and brocades, musk pods and mother o’ pearl; and there was written on every bale, “This is of the packages intended for Baghdad,” it having been his purpose to make the journey thither, when Almighty Allah took him to Himself, which was in the time of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid. After a while his son took the loads and, bidding farewell to his mother and kindred and townsfolk, went forth with a company of merchants, putting his trust in Allah Almighty, who decreed him safety, so that he arrived without let or stay at Baghdad. There he hired for himself a fair dwelling house which he furnished with carpets and cushions, curtains and hangings; and therein stored his bales and stabled his mules and camels, after which he abode a while resting. Presently the merchants and notables of Baghdad came and saluted him, after which he took a bundle containing ten pieces of costly stuffs, with the prices written on them, and carried it to the merchants’ bazar, where they welcomed and saluted him and showed him all honour; and, making him dismount from his beast, seated him in the shop of the Syndic of the market, to whom he delivered the package. He opened it and, drawing out the pieces of stuff, sold them for him at a profit of two diners on every diner of prime cost. At this Ghanim rejoiced and kept selling his silks and stuffs one after another, and ceased not to do on this wise for a full year. On the first day of the following year he went, as was his wont, to the Exchange which was in the bazar, but found the gate shut; and enquiring the reason was told, “One of the merchants is dead and all the others have gone to follow his bier,2 and why shouldst thou not win the meed of good deeds by walking with them?”3 He replied “Yes,” and asked for the quarter where the funeral was taking place, and one directed him thereto. So he purified himself by the Wuzu-ablution4 and repaired with the other merchants to the oratory, where they prayed over the dead, then walked before the bier to the burial place, and Ghanim, who was a bashful man, followed them being ashamed to leave them. They presently issued from the city, and passed through the tombs until they reached the grave where they found that the deceased’s kith and kin had pitched a tent over the tomb and had brought thither lamps and wax candles. So they buried the body and sat down while the readers read out and recited the Koran over the grave; and Ghanim sat with them, being overcome with bashfulness and saying to himself “I cannot well go away till they do.” They tarried listening to the Koranic perfection till nightfall, when the servants set supper and sweetmeats5 before them and they ate till they were satisfied; then they washed their hands and again took their places. But Ghanim’s mind was preoccupied with his house and goods, being in fear of robbers, and he said to himself, “I am a stranger here and supposed to have money; if I pass the night abroad the thieves will steal my money bags and my bales to boot.” So when he could no longer control his fear he arose and left the assembly, having first asked leave to go about some urgent business; and following the signs of the road he soon came to the city gate. But it was midnight and he found the doors locked and saw none going or coming nor heard aught but the hounds baying and the wolves howling. At this he exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! I was in fear for my property and came back on its account, but now I find the gate shut and I am in mortal fear for my life!” Then he turned back and, looking out for a place where he could sleep till morning, presently found a Santon’s tomb, a square of four walls with a date-tree in the central court and a granite gateway. The door was wide open; so he entered and would fain have slept, but sleep came not to him; and terror and a sense of desolation oppressed him for that he was alone amidst the tombs. So he rose to his feet and, opening the door, looked out and lo! he was ware of a light afar off in the direction of the city gate; then walking a little way towards it, he saw that it was on the road whereby he had reached the tomb. This made him fear for his life, so he hastily shut the door and climbed to the top of the dale tree where he hid himself in the heart of the fronds. The light came nearer and nearer till it was close to the tomb; then it stopped and he saw three slaves, two bearing a chest and one with a lanthorn, an adze and a basket containing some mortar. When they reached the tomb, one of those who were carrying the case said, “What aileth thee O Sawáb?”; and said the other, “What is the matter O Káfúr?”6 Quoth he, “Were we not here at supper tide and did we not leave the door open?” “Yes,” replied the other, “that is true.’’ “See,” said Kafur, “now it is shut and barred.” “How weak are your wits!” cried the third who bore the adze and his name was Bukhayt,7 “know ye not that the owners of the gardens use to come out from Baghdad and tend them and, when evening closes upon them, they enter this place and shut the door, for fear lest the wicked blackmen, like ourselves, should catch them and roast ’em and eat ’em.”8 “Thou sayest sooth,” said the two others, “but by Allah, however that may be, none amongst us is weaker of wits than thou.” “If ye do not believe me,” said Bukhayt, “let us enter the tomb and I will rouse the rat for you; for I doubt not but that, when he saw the light and us making for the place, he ran up the date tree and hid there for fear of us.” When Ghanim heard this, he said in himself, “O curstest of slaves! May Allah not have thee in His holy keeping for this thy craft and keenness of wit! There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! How shall I win free of these blackamoors?” Then said the two who bore the box to him of the adze, “Swarm up the wall and open the gate for us, O Bukhayt, for we are tired of carrying the chest on our necks; and when thou hast opened the gate thou shalt have one of those we catch inside, a fine fat rat which we will fry for thee after such excellent fashion that not a speck of his fat shall be lost.” But Bukhayt answered, “I am afraid of somewhat which my weak wits have suggested to me: we should do better to throw the chest over the gateway; for it is our treasure.” “If we throw it ’twill break,” replied they; and he said, “I fear lest there be robbers within who murder folk and plunder their goods, for evening is their time of entering such places and dividing their spoil.” “O thou weak o’ wits,” said both the bearers of the box, “how could they ever get in here!”9 Then they set down the chest and climbing over the wall dropped inside and opened the gate, whilst the third slave (he that was called Bukhayt) stood by them holding the adze, the lanthorn and the hand basket containing the mortar. After this they locked the gate and sat down; and presently one of them said, “O my brethren, we are wearied with walking and with lifting up and setting down the chest, and with unlocking and locking the gate; and now ’tis midnight, and we have no breath left to open a tomb and bury the box: so let us rest here two or three hours, then rise and do the job. Meanwhile each of us shall tell how he came to be castrated and all that befel him from first to last, the better to pass away our time while we take our rest.” Thereupon the first, he of the lanthorn and whose name was Bukhayt, said, “I’ll tell you my tale.” “Say on,” replied they; so he began as follows the
1 i.e. camel loads, about lbs. 300; and for long journeys lbs. 250.
2 Arab. “Janázah,” so called only when carrying a corpse; else Na’ash, Sarír or Tábút: Irán being the large hearse on which chiefs are borne. It is made of plank or stick work; but there are several varieties. (Lane, M. E. chaps. xxviii.)
3 It is meritorious to accompany the funeral cortège of a Moslem even for a few paces.
4 Otherwise he could not have joined in the prayers.
5 Arab. “Halwá” made of sugar, cream, almonds, etc. That of Maskat is famous throughout the East.
6 i.e. “Camphor” to a negro, as we say “Snowball,” by the figure antiphrase.
7 “Little Good Luck,” a dim. form of “bakht”=luck, a Persian word naturalized in Egypt.
8 There are, as I have shown, not a few cannibal tribes in Central Africa and these at times find their way into the slave market.
9 i.e. After we bar the door.
Know, O my brothers, that when I was a little one, some five years old, I was taken home from my native country by a slave driver who sold me to a certain Apparitor.1 My purchaser had a daughter three years old, with whom I was brought up; and they used to make mock of me, letting me play with her and dance for her2 and sing to her, till I reached the age of twelve and she that of ten; and even then they did not forbid me seeing her. One day I went in to her and found her sitting in an inner room, and she looked as if she had just come out of the bath which was in the house; for she was scented with essences and reek of aromatic woods, and her face shone like a circle of the moon on the fourteenth night. She began to sport with me, and I with her. Now I had just reached the age of puberty; so my prickle stood at point, as it were a huge key. Then she threw me on my back and, mounting astraddle on my breast, fell a wriggling and a bucking upon me till she had uncovered my yard. When she saw it standing with head erect, she hent it in hand and began rubbing it upon the lips of her little slit3 outside her petticoat trousers. Thereat hot lust stirred in me and I threw my arms round her, while she wound hers about my neck and hugged me to her with all her might, till, before I knew what I did, my pizzle split up her trousers and entered her slit and did away her maiden head. When I saw this, I ran off and took refuge with one of my comrades. Presently her mother came in to her; and, seeing her in this case, fainted clean away. However she managed the matter advisedly and hid it from the girl’s father out of good will to me; nor did they cease to call to me and coax me, till they took me from where I was. After two months had passed by, her mother married her to a young man, a barber who used to shave her papa, and portioned and fitted her out of her own monies; whilst the father knew nothing of what had passed. On the night of consummation they cut the throat of a pigeon poult and sprinkled the blood on her shift.4 After a while they seized me unawares and gelded me; and, when they brought her to her bridegroom, they made me her Agha,5 her eunuch, to walk before her wheresoever she went, whether to the bath or to her father’s house. I abode with her a long time enjoying her beauty and loveliness by way of kissing and clipping and coupling with her,6 till she died, and her husband and mother and father died also; when they seized me for the Royal Treasury as being the property of an intestate, and I found my way hither, where I became your comrade. This, then, O my brethren, is the cause of my cullions being cut off; and peace be with you! He ceased and his fellow began in these words the
1 Arab. “Jáwísh” from Turk. Cháwúsh, Chiaoosh, a sergeant, poursuivant, royal messenger. I would suggest that this is the word “Shálish” or “Jálish” in Al–Siynti’s History of the Caliphs (p. 501) translated by Carlyle “milites,” by Schultens “Sagittarius” and by Jarett “picked troops.”
2 This familiarity with blackamoor slave-boys is common in Egypt and often ends as in the story: Egyptian blood is sufficiently mixed with negro to breed inclination for miscegenation. But here the girl was wickedly neglected by her mother at such an age as ten.
3 Arab. “Farj”; hence a facetious designation of the other sex is “Zawi’l-furuj” (grammatically Zawátu’l — furúj)=habentes rimam, slit ones.
4 This ancient and venerable practice of inspecting the marriage-sheet is still religiously preserved in most parts of the East, and in old-fashioned Moslem families. It is publicly exposed in the Harem to prove that the “domestic calamity” (the daughter) went to her husband a clean maid. Also the general idea is that no blood will impose upon the exerts, or jury of matrons, except that of a pigeon-poult which exactly resembles hymeneal blood — when not subjected to the microscope. This belief is universal in Southern Europe and I have heard of it in England. Further details will be given in Night ccxi.
5 “Agha” Turk.=sir, gentleman, is, I have said, politely addressed to a eunuch.
6 As Bukhayt tells us he lost only his testes, consequently his erectio et distensio penis was as that of a boy before puberty and it would last as long as his heart and circulation kept sound. Hence the eunuch who preserves his penis is much prized in the Zenanah where some women prefer him to the entire man, on account of his long performance of the deed of kind. Of this more in a future page.
Know, O my brothers that, when beginning service as a boy of eight, I used to tell the slave dealers regularly and exactly one lie every year, so that they fell out with one another, till at last my master lost patience with me and, carrying me down to the market, ordered the brokers to cry, “Who will buy this slave, knowing his blemish and making allowance for it?” He did so and they asked him, “Pray, what may be his blemish?” and he answered, “He telleth me one single lie every year.” Now a man that was a merchant came up and said to the broker, “How much do they allow for him with his blemish?” “They allow six hundred dirhams,” he replied; and said the other, “Thou shalt have twenty dirhams for thyself.” So he arranged between him and the slave dealer who took the coin from him and the broker carried me to the merchant’s house and departed, after receiving his brokerage. The trader clothed me with suitable dress, and I stayed in his service the rest of my twelvemonth, until the new year began happily. It was a blessed season, plenteous in the produce of the earth, and the merchants used to feast every day at the house of some one among them, till it was my master’s turn to entertain them in a flower garden without the city. So he and the other merchants went to the garden, taking with them all that they required of provaunt and else beside, and sat eating and carousing and drinking till mid day, when my master, having need of some matter from his home, said to me, “O slave, mount the she mule and hie thee to the house and bring from thy mistress such and such a thing and return quickly.” I obeyed his bidding and started for the house but, as I drew near it, I began to cry out and shed tears, whereupon all the people of the quarter collected, great and small; and my master’s wife and daughters, hearing the noise I was making, opened the door and asked me what was the matter. Said I, “My master was sitting with his friends beneath an old wall, and it fell on one and all of them; and when I saw what had happened to them, I mounted the mule and came hither in haste to tell you.” When my master’s daughters and wife heard this, they screamed and rent their raiment and beat their faces, whilst the neighbours came around them. Then the wife over turned the furniture of the house, one thing upon another, and tore down the shelves and broke the windows and the lattices and smeared the walls with mud and indigo, saying to me, “Woe to thee, O Kafur! come help me to tear down these cupboards and break up these vessels and this china ware,1 and the rest of it.” So I went to her and aided her to smash all the shelves in the house with whatever stood upon them, after which I went round about the terrace roofs and every part of the place, spoiling all I could and leaving no china in the house unbroken till I had laid waste the whole, crying out the while “Well away! my master!” Then my mistress fared forth bare faced wearing a head kerchief and naught else, and her daughters and the children sallied out with her, and said to me, “O Kafur, go thou before us and show us the place where thy master lieth dead, that we may take him from under the fallen wall and lay him on a bier and bear him to the house and give him a fine funeral.” So I went forth before them crying out, “Slack, my master!”; and they after me with faces and heads bare and all shrieking, “Alas! Alas for the man!” Now there remained none in the quarter, neither man nor woman, nor epicene, nor youth nor maid, nor child nor old trot, but went with us smiting their faces and weeping bitterly, and I led them leisurely through the whole city. The folk asked them what was the matter, whereupon they told them what they had heard from me, and all exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!” Then said one of them, “He was a personage of consequence; so let us go to the Governor and tell him what hath befallen him.” When they told the Governor — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 It is or rather was the custom in Egypt and Syria to range long rows of fine China bowls along the shelves running round the rooms at the height of six or seven feet, and they formed a magnificent cornice. I bought many of them at Damascus till the people, learning their value, asked prohibitive prices.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when they told the Governor, he rose and mounted and, taking with him labourers, with spades and baskets, went on my track, with many people behind him; and I ran on before them, howling and casting dust on my head and beating my face, followed by my mistress and her children keening for the dead. But I got ahead of them and entered the garden before them, and when my master saw me in this state, I smiting my face and saying, “Well away! my mistress! Alas! Alas! Alas! who is left to take pity on me, now that my mistress is gone? Would I had been a sacrifice for her!”, he stood aghast and his colour waxed yellow and he said to me, “What aileth thee O Kafur! What is the matter?” “O my lord,” I replied, “when thou sentest me to the house, I found that the saloon wall had given way and had fallen like a layer upon my mistress and her children!” “And did not thy mistress escape?” “No, by Allah, O my master; not one of them was saved; the first to die was my mistress, thine elder daughter!” “And did not my younger daughter escape?”; “No, she did not!” “And what became of the mare mule I use to ride, is she safe?” “No, by Allah, O my master, the house walls and the stable walls buried every living thing that was within doors, even to the sheep and geese and poultry, so that they all became a heap of flesh and the dogs and cats are eating them and not one of them is left alive.” “And hath not thy master, my elder son, escaped?” “No, by Allah! not one of them was saved, and now there is naught left of house or household, nor even a sign of them: and, as for the sheep and geese and hens, the cats and dogs have devoured them.” When my master heard this the light became night before his sight; his wits were dazed and he so lost command of his senses that he could not stand firm on his feet: he was as one struck with a sudden palsy and his back was like to break. Then he rent his raiment and plucked out his beard and, casting his turband from off his head, buffeted his face till the blood ran down and he cried aloud, “Alas, my children! Alas, my wife! Alas, my calamity! To whom ever befel that which hath befallen me?” The merchants, his friends, also cried aloud at his crying and wept for his weeping and tore their clothes, being moved to pity of his case; and so my master went out of the garden, smiting his face with such violence that from excess of pain he staggered like one drunken with wine. As he and the merchants came forth from the garden gate, behold, they saw a great cloud of dust and heard a loud noise of crying and lamentation; so they looked and lo! it was the Governor with his attendants and the townsfolk, a world of people, who had come out to look on, and my master’s family following them, all screaming and crying aloud and weeping exceeding sore weeping. The first to address my owner were his wife and children; and when he saw them he was confounded and laughed2 and said to them, “How is it with all of you and what befel you in the house and what hath come to pass to you?” When they saw him they exclaimed, “Praise be to Allah for thy preservation!” and threw themselves upon him and his children hung about him crying, “Slack, our father! Thanks to Allah for thy safety, O our father!” And his wife said to him, “Art thou indeed well! Laud to Allah who hath shown us thy face in safety!” And indeed she was confounded and her reason fled when she saw him, and she asked, “O, my lord, how didst thou escape, thou and thy friends the merchants?”; and he answered her, “And how fared it with thee in the house?” Quoth they, “We were all well, whole and healthy, nor hath aught of evil befallen us in the house, save that thy slave Kafur came to us, bareheaded with torn garments and howling, ‘Alas, the master! Alas the master!’ So we asked him, ‘What tidings, O Kafur?’ and he answered ‘A wall of the garden hath fallen on my master and his friends the merchants, and they are all crushed and dead!’’’ “By Allah,” said my master, “he came to me but now howling, ‘Alas, my mistress! Alas, the children of the mistress!’, and said, ‘My mistress and her children are all dead, every one of them!’” Then he looked round and seeing me with my turband rent in rags round my neck, howling and weeping with exceeding weeping and throwing dust upon my head, he cried out at me. So I came to him and he said, “Woe to thee, O ill omened slave! O whoreson knave! O thou damned breed! What mischief thou hast wrought? By Allah! I will flog thy skin from thy flesh and cut thy flesh from thy bones!” I rejoined, “By Allah, thou canst do nothing of the kind with me, O my lord, for thou boughtest me with my blemish; and there are honest men to bear witness against thee that thou didst so accepting the condition, and that thou knewest of my fault which is to tell one lie every year. Now this is only a half lie, but by the end of the year I will tell the other half, then will the lie stand whole and complete.” “O dog, son of a dog!”, cried my master, “O most accursed of slaves, is this all of it but a half lie? Verily if it be a half lie ’tis a whole calamity! Get thee from me, thou art free in the face of Allah!” “By Allah,” rejoined I, if thou free me, I will not free thee till my year is completed and I have told thee the half lie which is left. When this is done, go down with me to the slave market and sell me as thou boughtest me to whoso will buy me with my blemish; but thou shalt not manumit me, for I have no handicraft whereby to gain my living;3 and this my demand is a matter of law which the doctors have laid down in the Chapter of Emancipation.”4 While we were at these words, up came the crowd of people, and the neighbours of the quarter, men, women and children, together with the Governor and his suite offering condolence. So my master and the other merchants went up to him and informed him of the adventure, and how this was but a half lie, at which all wondered, deeming it a whole lie and a big one. And they cursed me and reviled me, while I stood laughing and grinning at them, till at last I asked, “How shall my master slay me when he bought me with this my blemish?” Then my master returned home and found his house in ruins, and it was I who had laid waste the greater part of it,5 having broken things which were worth much money, as also had done his wife, who said to him, “’Twas Kafur who broke the vessels and chinaware.” Thereupon his rage redoubled and he struck hand upon hand exclaiming, “By Allah! in my life never saw I a whoreson like this slave; and he saith this is but a half lie! How, then, if he had told me a whole lie? He would ruin a city, aye or even two.” Then in his fury he went to the Governor, and they gave me a neat thing in the bastinado-line and made me eat stick till I was lost to the world and a fainting fit came on me; and, whilst I was yet senseless, they brought the barber who docked me and gelded me6 and cauterised the wound. When I revived I found myself a clean eunuch with nothing left, and my master said to me, “Even as thou hast burned my heart for the things I held dearest, so have I burnt thy heart for that of thy members whereby thou settest most store!” Then he took me and sold me at a profit, for that I was become an eunuch. And I ceased not bringing trouble upon all, wherever I was sold, and was shifted from lord to lord and from notable to notable, being sold and being bought, till I entered the palace of the Commander of the Faithful. But now my spirit is broken and my tricks are gone from me, so alas! are my ballocks. When the two slaves heard his history, they laughed at him and chaffed him and said, “Truly thou art skite7 and skite-son! Thou liedest an odious lie.” Then quoth they to the third slave, “Tell us thy tale.” “O sons of my uncle,” quoth he, “all that ye have said is idle: I will tell you the cause of my losing my testicles, and indeed I deserved to lose even more, for I futtered both my mistress and my master’s eldest son and heir: but my story is a long one and this is not the time to tell it; for the dawn, O my cousins, draweth near and if morning come upon us with this chest still unburied, we shall get into sore disgrace and our lives will pay for it. So up with you and open the door and, when we get back to the palace, I will tell you my story and the cause of my losing my precious stones.” Then he swarmed up and dropped down from the wall inside and opened the door, so they entered and, setting down the lantern, dug between four tombs a hole as long as the chest and of the same breadth. Kafur plied the spade and Sawab removed the earth by baskets full till they reached the depth of the stature of a man;8 when they laid the chest in the hole and threw back the earth over it: then they went forth and shutting the door disappeared from Ghanim’s eyes. When all was quiet and he felt sure that he was left alone in the place, his thought was busied about what the chest contained and he said to himself, “Would that I knew the contents of that box!” However, he waited till day broke, when morning shone and showed her sheen: whereupon he came down from the date tree and scooped away the earth with his hands, till the box was laid bare and disengaged from the ground. Then he took a large stone and hammered at the lock till he broke it and, opening the lid, behold a young lady, a model of beauty and loveliness, clad in the richest of garments and jewels of gold and such necklaces of precious stones that, were the Sultan’s country evened with them, it would not pay their price. She had been drugged with Bhang, but her bosom, rising and falling, showed that her breath had not departed. When Ghanim saw her, he knew that some one had played her false and hocussed her; so he pulled her out of the chest and laid her on the ground with her face upwards. As soon as she smelt the breeze and the air entered her nostrils, mouth and lungs, she sneezed and choked and coughed; when there fell from out her throat a pill of Cretan Bhang, had an elephant smelt it he would have slept from night to night. Then she opened her eyes and glancing around said, in sweet voice and gracious words, “Woe to thee O wind! there is naught in thee to satisfy the thirsty, nor aught to gratify one whose thirst is satisfied! Where is Zhar al-Bostan?” But no one answered her, so she turned her and cried out, “Ho Sabíhah! Shajarat al-Durr! Núr al-Hudá! Najmat al-Subh! be ye awake? Shahwah, Nuzhab, Halwá, Zarífah, out on you, speak!9’’ But no one answered; so she looked all around and said, “Woe’s me! have they entombed me in the tombs? O Thou who knowest what man’s thought enwombs and who givest compensation on the Day of Doom, who can have brought me from amid hanging screens and curtains veiling the Harim rooms and set me down between four tombs?” All this while Ghanim was standing by: then he said to her, “O my lady, here are neither screened rooms nor palace Harims nor yet tombs; only the slave henceforth devoted to thy love, Ghanim bin Ayyub, sent to thee by the Omniscient One above, that all thy troubles He may remove and win for thee every wish that cloth behove!” Then he held his peace. She was reassured by his words and cried, “I testify that there is no god but the God and I testify that Mohammed is the Apostle of God!”; then she turned to Ghanim and, placing her hands before her face, said to him in the sweetest speech, “O blessed youth, who brought me hither? See, I am now come to myself.” “O my lady,” he replied, “three slave eunuchs came here bearing this chest;” and related to her the whole of what had befallen him, and how evening having closed upon him had proved the cause of her preservation, otherwise she had died smothered.10 Then he asked her who she was and what was her story, and she answered, “O youth, thanks be to Allah who hath cast me into the hands of the like of thee! But now rise and put me back into the box; then fare forth upon the road and hire the first camel driver or muleteer thou findest to carry it to thy house. When I am there, all will be well and I will tell thee my tale and acquaint thee with my adventures, and great shall be thy gain by means of me.” At this he rejoiced and went outside the tomb. The day was now dazzling bright and the firmament shone with light and the folk had begun to circulate; so he hired a man with a mule and, bringing him to the tomb, lifted the chest wherein he had put the damsel and set it on the mule. Her love now engrossed his heart and he fared homeward with her rejoicing, for that she was a girl worth ten thousand gold pieces and her raiment and ornaments would fetch a mint of money. As soon as he arrived at his house he carried in the chest and opening it — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The tale is interesting as well as amusing, excellently describing the extravagance still practiced in middle-class Moslem families on the death of the pater familias. I must again note that Arab women are much more unwilling to expose the back of the head covered by the “Tarhah” (head-veil) than the face, which is hidden by the “Burke” or nose bag.
2 The usual hysterical laughter of this nervous race.
3 Here the slave refuses to be set free and starve. For a master so to do without ample reasons is held disgraceful. I well remember the weeping and wailing throughout Sind when an order from Sir Charles Napier set free the negroes whom British philanthropy thus doomed to endure if not to die of hunger.
4 Manumission, which is founded upon Roman law, is an extensive subject discussed in the Hidáyah and other canonical works. The slave here lays down the law incorrectly but his claim shows his truly “nigger” impudence.
5 This is quite true to nature. The most remarkable thing in the wild central African is his enormous development of “destructiveness.” At Zanzibar I never saw a slave break a glass or plate without a grin or a chuckle of satisfaction.
6 Arab. “Khassá-ni”; Khusyatáni (vulg.) being the testicles, also called “bayzatán” the two eggs) a double entendre which has given rise to many tales. For instance in the witty Persian book “Dozd o Kazi” (The Thief and the Judge) a footpad strips the man of learning and offers to return his clothes if he can ask him a puzzle in law or religion. The Kazi (in folk-lore mostly a fool) fails, and his wife bids him ask the man to supper for a trial of wits on the same condition. She begins with compliments and ends by producing five eggs which she would have him distribute equally amongst the three; and, when he is perplexed, she gives one to each of the men taking three for herself. Whereupon the “Dozd” wends his way, having lost his booty as his extreme stupidity deserved. In the text the eunuch, Kafur, is made a “Sandal” or smooth-shaven, so that he was of no use to women.
7 Arab. “Khara,” the lowest possible word: Yá Khara! is the commonest of insults, used also by modest women. I have heard one say it to her son.
8 Arab. “Kámah,” a measure of length, a fathom, also called “Bá‘a.” Both are omitted in that sadly superficial book, Lane’s Modern Egyptians, App. B.
9 Names of her slave-girls which mean (in order), Garden-bloom, Dawn (or Beautiful), Tree o’ Pearl (P. N. of Saladin’s wife), Light of (right) Direction, Star o’ the Morn Lewdness (= Shahwah, I suppose this is a chaff), Delight, Sweetmeat and Miss Pretty.
10 This mode of disposing of a rival was very common in Harems. But it had its difficulties and on the whole the river was (and is) preferred.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ghanim son of Ayyub arrived with the chest at his house, he opened it and took out the young lady, who looked about her and, seeing that the place was handsome, spread with carpets and dight with cheerful colours and other deckings; and noting the stuffs up piled and packed bales and other else than that, knew that he was a substantial merchant and a man of much money. There upon she uncovered her face and looked at him, and lo! he was a fair youth; so when she saw him she loved him and said, “O my lord, bring us something to eat.” “On my head and mine eyes!” replied he; and, going down to the bazar, bought a roasted lamb and a dish of sweetmeats and with these dry fruits and wax candles, besides wine and whatsoever was required of drinking materials, not forgetting perfumes. With all this gear he returned to the house; and when the damsel saw him she laughed and kissed him and clasped his neck. Then she began caressing him, which made his love wax hotter till it got the mastery of his heart. They ate and drank and each had conceived the fondest affection; for indeed the two were one in age and one in loveliness; and when night came on Ghanim bin Ayyub, the Distraught, the Thrall o’ Love, rose and lit the wax candles and lamps till the place blazed with light;1 after which he produced the wine service and spread the table. Then both sat down again, he and she, and he kept filling and giving her to drink, and she kept filling and giving him to drink, and they played and toyed and laughed and recited verses; whilst their joy increased and they dove in closer love each to each (glory be to the Uniter of Hearts!). They ceased not to carouse after this fashion till near upon dawn when drowsiness overcame them and they slept where they were, apart each from other, till the morning.2 Then Ghanim arose and going to the market, bought all they required of meat and vegetables and wine and what not, and brought them to the house; whereupon both sat down to eat and ate their sufficiency, when he set on wine. They drank and each played with each, till their cheeks flushed red and their eyes took a darker hue and Ghanim’s soul longed to kiss the girl and to lie with her and he said, “O my lady, grant me one kiss of that dear mouth: per chance ‘t will quench the fire of my heart.” “O Ghanim,” replied she, “wait till I am drunk and dead to the world; then steal a kiss of me, secretly and on such wise that I may not know thou hast kissed me.” Then she rose and taking off her upper dress sat; in a thin shift of fine linen and a silken head kerchief.3 At this passion inflamed Ghanim and he said to her, “O my lady, wilt thou not vouchsafe me what I asked of thee?” “By Allah,” she replied, “that may not be thine, for there is written upon my trouser string4 a hard word!” Thereupon Ghanim’s heart sank and desire grew on him as its object offered difficulties; and he improvised these verses,
“I asked the author of mine ills
To heal the wound with one sweet kiss:
No! No! she cried,5 for ever no!
But I, soft whispering, urged yes:
Quoth she, Then take it by my leave,
When smiles shall pardon thine amiss:
By force, cried I? Nay, she replied
With love and gladness eke I wis.
Now ask me not what next occurred
Seek grace of God and whist of this!
Deem what thou wilt of us, for love
By calumnies the sweeter is
Nor after this care I one jot
Whether my foe be known or not.”
Then his affection increased and love fires rose hotter in his heart, while she refused herself to him saying, “Thou canst not possess me.” They ceased not to make love and enjoy their wine and wassail, whilst Ghanim was drowned in the sea of love and longing; but she redoubled in coyness and cruelty till the night brought on the darkness and let fall on them the skirts of sleep. Thereupon Ghanim rose and lit the lamps and wax candles and refreshed the room and removed the table; then he took her feet and kissed them and, finding them like fresh cream, pressed his face6 on them and said to her, “O my lady, take pity on one thy love hath ta’en and thine eyes hath slain; for indeed I were heart whole but for thy bane!” And he wept somewhat. “O my lord, and light of my eyes,” quoth she, “by Allah, I love thee in very sooth and I trust to thy truth, but I know that I may not be thine.” “And what is the obstacle?” asked he; when she answered, “Tonight I will tell thee my tale, that thou mayst accept my excuse.” Then she threw herself upon him and winding her arms like a necklace about his neck, kissed him and caressed him and promised him her favours; and they ceased not playing and laughing till love get the firmest hold upon both their hearts. And so it continued a whole month, both passing the night on a single carpet bed, but whenever he would enjoy her, she put him off; whilst mutual love increased upon them and each could hardly abstain from other. One night, as he lay by her side, and both were warm with wine Ghanim passed his hand over her breasts and stroked them; then he slipped it down to her waist as far as her navel. She awoke and, sitting up, put her hand to her trousers and finding them fast tied, once more fell asleep. Presently, he again felt her and sliding his hand down to her trouser string, began pulling at it, whereupon she awoke and sat upright. Ghanim also sat up by her side and she asked him, “What dost thou want?” “I want to lie with thee,” he answered, “and that we may deal openly and frankly with each other.” Quoth she, “I must now declare to thee my case, that thou mayst know my quality; then will my secret be disclosed to thee and my excuse become manifest to thee.” Quoth he, “So be it!” Thereat she opened the skirt of her shift and taking up her trouser string, said to him, “O my lord, read what is worked on the flat of this string:” so he took it in hand, and saw these words broidered on it in gold, “I am thine, and thou art mine, O cousin of the Apostle!’’7 When he read this, he withdrew his hand and said to her, “Tell me who thou art!” “So be it,” answered she; “know that I am one of the concubines of the Commander of the Faithful, and my name is Kút al-Kulúb the Food of Hearts. I was brought up in his palace and, when I grew to woman’s estate, he looked on me and, noting what share of beauty and loveliness the Creator had given me, loved me with exceeding love, and assigned me a separate apartment, and gave me ten slave girls to wait on me and all these ornaments thou seest me wearing. On a certain day he set out for one of his provinces, and the Lady Zubaydah came to one of the slave girls in my service and said to her, ‘I have something to require of thee.’ ‘What is it, O my lady?’ asked she and the Caliph’s wife answered, ‘When thy mistress Kut al-Kulub is asleep, put this piece of Bhang into her nostrils or drop it into her drink, and thou shalt have of me as much money as will satisfy thee.’ ‘With love and gladness;’ replied the girl and took the Bhang from her, being a glad woman because of the money and because aforetime she had been one of Zubaydah’s slaves. So she put the Bhang in my drink, and when it was night drank, and the drug had no sooner settled in my stomach than I fell to the ground, my head touching my feet, and knew naught of my life but that I was in another world. When her device succeeded, she bade put me in this chest, and secretly brought in the slaves and the doorkeepers and bribed them; and, on the night when thou wast perched upon the date tree, she sent the blacks to do with me as thou sawest. So my delivery was at thy hands, and thou broughtest me to this house and hast entreated me honourably and with thy kindest. This is my story, and I wot not what is become of the Caliph during my absence. Know then my condition and divulge not my case.” When Ghanim heard her words and knew that she was a concubine of the Caliph, he drew back, for awe of the Caliphate beset him, and sat apart from her in one of the corners of the place, blaming himself and brooding over his affair and patiencing his heart bewildered for love of one he could not possess. Then he wept for excess of longing, and plained him of Fortune and her injuries, and the world and its enmities (and praise be to Him who causeth generous hearts to be troubled with love and the beloved, and who endoweth not the minds of the mean and miserly with so much of it as eveneth a grain-weight!). So he began repeating,
“The lover’s heart for his beloved must meet
Sad pain, and from her charms bear sore defeat:
What is Love’s taste? They asked and answered I,
Sweet is the taste but ah! ’tis bitter sweet.”
Thereupon Kut al-Kulub arose and took him to her bosom and kissed him; for the love of him was firm fixed in her heart, so that she disclosed to him her secret and all the affection she felt; and, throwing her arms round Ghanim’s neck like a collar of pearls, kissed him again and yet again. But he held off from her in awe of the Caliph. Then they talked together a long while (and indeed both were drowned in the sea of their mutual love); and, as the day broke, Ghanim rose and donned his clothes and going to the bazar, as was his wont, took what the occasion required and returned home. He found her weeping; but when she saw him she checked herself and, smiling through her tears, said, “Thou hast desolated me, O beloved of my heart. By Allah, this hour of absence hath been to me like a year!8 I have explained to thee my condition in the excess of my eager love for thee; so come now near me, and forget the past and have thy will of me.” But he interrupted her crying, “I seek refuge with Allah! This thing may never be. How shall the dog sit in the lion’s stead? What is the lord’s is unlawful to the slave!” So he with-drew from her, and sat down on a corner of the mat. Her passion for him increased with his forbearance; so she seated herself by his side and caroused and played with him, till the two were flushed with wine, and she was mad for her own dishonour. Then she sang these verses,
“The lover’s heart is like to break in twain:
Till when these coy denials ah! till when?
O thou who fliest me sans fault of mine,
Gazelles are wont at times prove tame to men:
Absence, aversion, distance and disdain,
How shall young lover all these ills sustain?”
Thereupon Ghanim wept and she wept at his weeping, and they ceased not drinking till nightfall, when he rose and spread two beds, each in its place. “For whom is this second bed?” asked she, and he answered her, “One is for me and the other is for thee: from this night forth we must not sleep save thus, for that which is the lord’s is unlawful to the thrall.” “O my master!” cried she, “let us have done with this, for all things come to pass by Fate and Fortune.” But he refused, and the fire was lighted in her heart and, as her longing waxed fiercer, she clung to him and cried, “By Allah, we will not sleep save side by side!” “Allah forefend!” he replied and prevailed against her and lay apart till the morning, when love and longing redoubled on her and distraction and eager thirst of passion. They abode after this fashion three full told months, which were long and longsome indeed, and every time she made advances to him, he would refuse himself and say, “Whatever belongeth to the master is unlawful to the man.” Now when time waxed tiresome and tedious to her and anguish and distress grew on her, she burst out from her oppressed heart with these verses,
“How long, rare beauty! wilt do wrong to me?
Who was it bade thee not belong to me?
With outer charms thou weddest inner grace
Comprising every point of piquancy:
Passion thou hast infused in every heart,
From eyelids driven sleep by deputy:
Erst was (I wet) the spray made thin of leaf.
O Cassia spray! Unlief thy sin I see:9
The hart erst hunted I: how is ‘t I spy
The hunter hunted (fair my hart!) by thee?
Wondrouser still I tell thee aye that I
Am trapped while never up to trap thou be!
Ne’er grant my prayer! For if I grudge thyself
To thee, I grudge my me more jealously
And cry so long as life belong to me,
Rare beauty how, how long this wrong to me?”
They abode in this state a long time, and fear kept Ghanim aloof from her. So far concerning these two; but as regards the Lady Zubaydah, when, in the Caliph’s absence she had done this deed by Kut al-Kulub she became perplexed, saying to herself, “What shall I tell my cousin when he comes back and asks for her? What possible answer can I make to him?” Then she called an old woman, who was about her and discovered her secret to her saying, “How shall I act seeing that Kut al-Kulub died by such untimely death?” “O my lady,” quoth the old crone, “the time of the Caliph’s return is near; so do thou send for a carpenter and bid him make thee a figure of wood in the form of a corpse. We will dig a grave for it midmost the palace and there bury it: then do thou build an oratory over it and set therein lighted candles and lamps, and order each and every in the palace to be clad in black.10 Furthermore command thy handmaids and eunuchs as soon as they know of the Caliph’s returning from his journey, to spread straw over the vestibule floors and, when the Commander of the Faithful enters and asks what is the matter, let them say:— Kut al-Kulub is dead, and may Allah abundantly compensate thee for the loss of her!11; and, for the high esteem in which she was held of our mistress, she hath buried her in her own palace. When he hears this he will weep and it shall be grievous to him; then will he cause perfections of the Koran to be made for her and he will watch by night at her tomb. Should he say to himself, ‘Verily Zubaydah, the daughter of my uncle, hath compassed in her jealousy the death of Kut al-Kulub’; or, if love longing overcome him and he bid her be taken out of her tomb, fear thou not; for when they dig down and come to the image in human shape he will see it shrouded in costly grave clothes; and, if he wish to take off the winding sheet that he may look upon her, do thou forbid him or let some other forbid him, saying, ‘The sight of her nakedness is unlawful.’ The fear of the world to come will restrain him and he will believe that she is dead and will restore the figure to its place and thank thee for thy doings; and thus thou shalt escape, please Almighty Allah, from this slough of despond.” When the Lady Zubaydah heard her words, she commended the counsel and gave her a dress of honour and a large sum of money, ordering her to do all she had said. So the old woman set about the business forthright and bade the carpenter make her the afore said image; and, as soon as it was finished, she brought it to the Lady Zubaydah, who shrouded it and buried it and built a sepulchre over it, wherein they lighted candles and lamps, and laid down carpets about the tomb. Moreover she put on black and she spread abroad in the Harim that Kut al-Kulub was dead. After a time the Caliph returned from his journey and went up to the palace, thinking only of Kut al-Kulub. He saw all the pages and eunuchs and handmaids habited in black, at which his heart fluttered with extreme fear; and, when he went in to the Lady Zubaydah, he found her also garbed in black. So he asked the cause of this and they gave him tidings of the death of Kut al-Kulub, whereon he fell a swooning. As soon as he came to himself, he asked for her tomb, and the Lady Zubaydah said to him, “Know, O Prince of the Faithful, that for especial honour I have buried her in my own palace.” Then he repaired in his travelling garb12 to the tomb that he might wail over her, and found the carpets spread and the candles and lamps lighted. When he saw this, he thanked Zubaydah for her good deed and abode perplexed, halting between belief and unbelief till at last suspicion overcame him and he gave order to open the grave and take out the body. When he saw the shroud and would have removed it to look upon her, the fear of Allah Almighty restrained him, and the old woman (taking advantage of the delay) said, “Restore her to her place.” Then he sent at once for Fakirs and Koran readers, and caused perfections to be made over her tomb and sat by the side of the grave, weeping till he fainted; and he continued to frequent the tomb and sit there for a whole month — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 An Eastern dislikes nothing more than drinking in a dim dingy place: the brightest lights seem to add to his “drinkitite.”
2 He did not sleep with her because he suspected some palace-mystery which suggested prudence, she also had her reasons.
3 This as called in Egypt “Allah.” (Lane M. E. chaps. i.)
4 It would be a broad ribbon-like band upon which the letters could be worked.
5 In the Arab. “he cried.” These “Yes, Yes!” and “No! No!” trifles are very common amongst the Arabs.
6 Arab. “Maragha” lit. rubbed his face on them like a fawning dog. Ghanim is another “softy” lover, a favourite character in Arab tales; and by way of contrast, the girl is masterful enough.
7 Because the Abbaside Caliphs descend from Al–Abbas, paternal uncle of Mohammed, text means more explicitly, “O descendant of the Prophet’s uncle!”
8 The most terrible part of a belle passion in the East is that the beloved will not allow her lover leave of absence for an hour.
9 It is hard to preserve these wretched puns. In the original we have “O spray (or branch) of capparis-shrub (aráki) which has been thinned of leaf and fruit (tujna, i.e., whose fruit, the hymen, has been plucked before and not by me) I see thee (aráka) against me sinning (tajní).
10 Apparently the writer forgets that the Abbaside banners and dress were black, originally a badge of mourning for the Imám Ibrahim bin Mohammed put to death by the Ommiade Caliph Al–Marwan. The modern Egyptian mourning, like the old Persian, is indigo-blue of the darkest; but, as before noted, the custom is by no means universal.
11 Koran, chaps. iv. In the East as elsewhere the Devil quotes Scripture.
12 A servant returning from a journey shows his master due honour by appearing before him in travelling suit and uncleaned.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph ceased not to frequent the tomb for the period of a whole month, at the end of which time it so happened one day that he entered the Serraglio, after dismissing the Emirs and Wazirs, and lay down and slept awhile; and there sat at his head a slave girl fanning him, and at his feet a second rubbing and shampooing them. Presently he awoke and, opening his eyes, shut them again and heard the handmaid at his head saying to her who was at his feet, “A nice business this, O Khayzarán!” and the other answered her “Well, O Kazíb al-Bán?”1 “Verily” said the first, “our lord knoweth naught of what hath happened and sitteth waking and watching by a tomb wherein is only a log of wood carved by the carpenter’s art.” “And Kut al-Kulub,” quoth the other, “what hath befallen her?” She replied, “Know that the Lady Zubaydah sent a pellet of Bhang by one of the slave women who was bribed to drug her; and when sleep overpowered her she let put her in a chest, and ordered Sawab and Kafur and Bukhayt to throw her amongst the tombs.” “What dost thou say, O Kazib al-Ban;” asked Khayzaran, “is not the lady Kut al-Kulub dead?” “Nay, by Allah!” she answered “and long may her youth be saved from death! but I have heard the Lady Zubaydah say that she is in the house of a young merchant named Ghanim bin Ayyub of Damascus, hight the Distraught, the Thrall o’ Love; and she hath been with him these four months, whilst our lord is weeping and watching by night at a tomb wherein is no corpse.” They kept on talking this sort of talk, and the Caliph gave ear to their words; and, by the time they had ceased speaking, he knew right well that the tomb was a feint and a fraud, and that Kut al-Kulub had been in Ghanim’s house for four months. Whereupon he was angered with exceeding anger and rising up, he summoned the Emirs of his state; and his Wazir Ja’afar the Barmaki came also and kissed the ground between his hands. The Caliph said to him in fury, “Go down, O Ja’afar, with a party of armed men and ask for the house of Ghanim son of Ayyub: fall upon it and spoil it and bring him to me with my slave girl, Kut al-Kulub, for there is no help but that I punish him!” “To hear is to obey,” said Ja’afar; and setting out with the Governor and the guards and a world of people, repaired to Ghanim’s house. Now about that time the youth happened to have brought back a pot of dressed meat and was about to put forth his hand to eat of it, he and Kut al-Kulub, when the lady, happening to look out saw calamity surrounding the house on every side; for the Wazir and the Governor, the night guard and the Mamelukes with swords drawn had girt it as the white of the eye girdeth the black. At this she knew that tidings of her had reached the Caliph, her lord; and she made sure of ruin, and her colour paled and her fair features changed and her favour faded. Then she turned to Ghanim and said to him, “O my love! fly for thy life!” “What shall I do,” asked he, “and whither shall I go, seeing that my money and means of maintenance are all in this house?”; and she answered, “Delay not lest thou be slain and lose life as well as wealth.” “O my loved one and light of mine eyes!” he cried, “how shall I do to get away when they have surrounded the house?” Quoth she, “Fear not;” and, stripping off his fine clothes, dressed him in ragged old garments, after which she took the pot and, putting in it bits of broken bread and a saucer of meat,2 placed the whole in a basket and setting it upon his head said, “Go out in this guise and fear not for me who wotteth right well what thing is in my hand for the Caliph.”3 So he went out amongst them, bearing the basket with its contents, and the Protector vouchsafed him His protection and he escaped the snares and perils that beset him, by the blessing of his good conscience and pure conduct. Meanwhile Ja’afar dismounted and entering the house, saw Kut al-Kulub who had dressed and decked herself in splendid raiments and ornaments and filled a chest with gold and jewellery and precious stones and rarities and what else was light to bear and of value rare. When she saw Ja’afar come in, she rose and, kissing the ground before him, said, “O my lord, the Reed hath written of old the rede which Allah decreed!’’4 “By Allah, O my lady,” answered Ja’afar, “he gave me an order to seize Ghanim son of Ayyub;” and she rejoined, “O my lord, he made ready his goods and set out therewith for Damascus and I know nothing more of him; but I desire thee take charge of this chest and deliver it to me in the Harim of the Prince of the Faithful.” “Hearing and obedience,” said Ja’afar, and bade his men bear it away to the head quarters of the Caliphate together with Kut al-Kulub, commanding them to entreat her with honour as one in high esteem. They did his bidding after they had wrecked and plundered Ghanim’s house. Then Ja’afar went in to the Caliph and told him all that had happened, and he ordered Kut al-Kulub to be lodged in a dark chamber and appointed an old women to serve her, feeling convinced that Ghanim had debauched her and slept with her. Then he wrote a mandate to the Emir Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Zayni, his viceroy in Damascus, to this effect: “The instant thou shalt receive this our letter, seize upon Ghanim bin Ayyub and send him to us.” When the missive came to the viceroy, he kissed it and laid it on his head; then he let proclaim in the bazars, “Whoso is desirous to plunder, away with him to the house of Ghanim son of Ayyub.”5 So they flocked thither, when they found that Ghanim’s mother and sister had built him a tomb6 in the midst of the house and sat by it weeping for him; whereupon they seized the two without telling them the cause and, after spoiling the house, carried them before the viceroy. He questioned them concerning Ghanim and both replied, “For a year or more we have had no news of him.” So they restored them to their place. Thus far concerning them; but as regards Ghanim, when he saw his wealth spoiled and his ruin utterest he wept over himself till his heart well nigh brake. Then he fared on at random till the last of the day, and hunger grew hard on him and walking wearied him. So coming to a village he entered a mosque7 where he sat down upon a mat and propped his back against the wall; but presently he sank to the ground in his extremity of famine and fatigue. There he lay till dawn, his heart fluttering for want of food; and, owing to his sweating, the lice8 coursed over his skin; his breath waxed fetid and his whole condition was changed. When the villagers came to pray the dawn prayer, they found him prostrate, ailing, hunger lean, yet showing evident signs of former affluence. As soon as prayers were over, they drew near him; and, understanding that he was starved with hunger and cold, they gave him an old robe with ragged sleeves and said to him, “O stranger, whence art thou and what sickness is upon thee?” He opened his eyes and wept but returned no answer; whereupon one of them, who saw that he was starving, brought him a saucer of honey and two barley scones. He ate a little and they sat with him till sun rise, when they went to their work. He abode with them in this state for a month, whilst sickness and weakliness grew upon him; and they wept for him and, pitying his condition, took counsel with one another upon his case and agreed to forward him to the hospital in Baghdad.9 Meanwhile behold, two beggar women, who were none other than Ghanim’s mother and sister,10 came into the mosque and, when he saw them, he gave them the bread that was at his head; and they slept by his side that night but he knew them not. Next day the villagers brought a camel and said to the cameleer, “Set this sick man on thy beast and carry him to Baghdad and put him down at the Spital door; so haply he may be medicined and be healed and thou shalt have thy hire.”11 “To hear is to comply,” said the man. So they brought Ghanim, who was asleep, out of the mosque and set him, mat and all, on the camel; and his mother and sister came out among the crowd to gaze upon him, but they knew him not. However, after looking at him and considering him carefully they said, “Of a truth he favours our Ghanim, poor boy!; can this sick man be he?” Presently, he woke and finding himself bound with ropes on a camel’s back, he began to weep and complain,12 and the village people saw his mother and sister weeping over him, albeit they knew him not. Then they fared forth for Baghdad, but the camel-man forewent them and, setting Ghanim down at the Spital gate, went away with his beast. The sick man lay there till dawn and, when the folk began to go about the streets, they saw him and stood gazing on him, for he had become as thin as a toothpick, till the Syndic of the bazar came up and drove them away from him, saying, “I will gain Paradise through this poor creature; for if they take him into the Hospital, they will kill him in a single day.”13 Then he made his young men carry him to his house, where they spread him a new bed with a new pillow,14 and he said to his wife, “Tend him carefully;” and she replied, “Good! on my head be it!” Thereupon she tucked up her sleeves and warming some water, washed his hands, feet and body; after which she clothed him in a robe belonging to one of her slave girls and made him drink a cup of wine and sprinkled rose wafer over him. So he revived and complained, and the thought of his beloved Kut al-Kulub made his grief redouble. Thus far concerning him; but as regards Kut al-Kulub, when the Caliph was angered against her — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The first name means “Rattan”, the second “Willow wand,” from the “Bán” or “Khiláf” the Egyptian willow (Salix Ægyptiaca Linn.) vulgarly called “Safsáf.” Forskal holds the “Bán” to be a different variety.
2 Arab. “Ta’ám,” which has many meanings: in mod. parlance it would signify millet holcus seed.
3 i.e. “I well know how to deal with him.”
4 The Pen (title of the Koranic chaps. Ixviii.) and the Preserved Tablet (before explained).
5 These plunderings were sanctioned by custom. But a few years ago, when the Turkish soldiers mutinied about arrears of pay (often delayed for years) the governing Pasha would set fire to the town and allow the men to loot what they pleased during a stated time. Rochet (soi-disant D’Hericourt) amusingly describes this manoeuvre of the Turkish Governor of Al–Hodaydah in the last generation. (Pilgrimage iii. 381.)
6 Another cenotaph whose use was to enable women to indulge in their pet pastime of weeping and wailing in company.
7 The lodging of pauper travellers, as the chapel in Iceland is of the wealthy. I have often taken benefit of the mosque, but as a rule it is unpleasant, the matting being not only torn but over-populous. Juvenal seems to allude to the Jewish Synagogue similarly used: “in quâ te quæro proseuchâ”? (iii. 296) and in Acts iii. we find the lame, blind and impotent in the Temple-porch.
8 This foul sort of vermin is supposed to be bred by perspiration. It is an epoch in the civilised traveller’s life when he catches his first louse.
9 The Moslem peasant is a kind hearted man and will make many sacrifices for a sick stranger even of another creed. It is a manner of “pundonor” with the village.
10 Such treatment of innocent women was only too common under the Caliphate and in contemporary Europe.
11 This may also mean, “And Heaven will reward thee,” but camel-men do not usually accept any drafts upon futurity.
12 He felt that he was being treated like a corpse.
13 This hatred of the Hospital extends throughout Southern Europe, even in places where it is not justified.
14 The importance of the pillow (wisádah or makhaddah) to the sick man is often recognised in The Nights. “He took to his pillow” is = took to his bed.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph was angered against Kut al-Kulub, he ordered her to a dark chamber where she abode eighty days, at the end of which the Caliph, happening to pass on a certain day the place where she was, heard her repeating poetry, and after she ceased reciting her verse, saying, “O my darling, O my Ghanim! how great is thy goodness and how chaste is thy nature! thou didst well by one who did ill by thee and thou guardedst his honour who garred thine become dishonour, and his Harim thou didst protect who to enslave thee and thine did elect! But thou shalt surely stand, thou and the Commander of the Faithful, before the Just Judge, and thou shalt be justified of him on the Day when the Lord (to whom be honour and glory!) shall be Kazi and the Angels of Heaven shall be witnesses!” When the Caliph heard her com plaint, he knew that she had been wronged and, returning to the palace, sent Masrur the Eunuch for her. She came before him with bowed head and eyes tearful and heart sorrowful; and he said to her, “O Kut al-Kulub, I find thou accuses me of tyranny and oppression, and thou avouches that I have done ill by one who did well by me. Who is this who hath guarded my honour while I garred his become dishonour? Who protected my Harim and whose Harim I wrecked?” “He is Ghanim son of Ayyub,” replied she, “for he never approached me in wantonness or with lewd intent, I swear by thy munificence, O Commander of the Faithful!” Then said the Caliph, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! Ask what thou wilt of me, O Kut al-Kulub.” “O Prince of the Faithful!”, answered she, “I require of thee only my beloved Ghanim son of Ayyub.” He did as she desired, whereupon she said, “O Lord of the Moslems, if I bring him to thy presence, wilt thou bestow me on him?”; and he replied, “If he come into my presence, I will give thee to him as the gift of the generous who revoketh not his largesse.” “O Prince of True Believers,” quoth she, “suffer me to go and seek him; haply Allah may unite me with him:” and quoth he, “Do even as thou wilt.” So she rejoiced and, taking with her a thousand diners in gold, went out and visited the elders of the various faiths and gave alms in Ghanim’s name.1 Next day she walked to the merchants’ bazar and disclosed her object to the Syndic and gave him money, saying, “Bestow this in charity to the stranger!” On the following Friday she fared to the bazar (with other thousand diners) and, entering the goldsmiths’ and jewellers’ market street, called the Chief and presented to him a thousand diners with these words, “Bestow this in charity to the stranger!” The Chief looked at her (and he was the Syndic who had taken in Ghanim) and said, “O my lady, wilt thou come to my house and look upon a youth, a stranger I have there and see how goodly and graceful he is?” Now the stranger was Ghanim, son of Ayyub, but the Chief had no knowledge of him and thought him to be some wandering pauper, some debtor whose wealth had been taken from him, or some lover parted from his beloved. When she heard his words her heart fluttered2 and her vitals yearned, and she said to him, “Send with me one who shall guide me to thy house.” So he sent a little lad who brought her to the house wherein was the head man’s stranger guest and she thanked him for this. When she reached the house, she went in and saluted the Syndic’s wife, who rose and kissed the ground between her hands, for she knew her. Then quoth Kut al-Kulub, “Where is the sick man who is with thee?” She wept and replied, “Here is he, O my lady; by Allah, he is come of good folk and he beareth the signs of gentle breeding: you see him lying on yonder bed.” So she turned and looked at him: and she saw something like him, but he was worn and wasted till he had become lean as a toothpick, so his identity was doubtful to her and she could not be certain that it was he. Yet pity for him possessed her and she wept saying, “Verily the stranger is unhappy, even though he be a prince in his own land!”; and his case was grievous to her and her heart ached for him, yet she knew him not to be Ghanim. Then she furnished him with wine and medicines and she sat awhile by his head, after which she mounted and returned to her palace and continued to visit every bazar in quest of her lover. Meanwhile Ghanim’s mother and sister Fitnah arrived at Baghdad and met the Syndic, who carried them to Kut al-Kulub and said to her, “O Princess of beneficent ladies, there came to our city this day a woman and her daughter, who are fair of favour and signs of good breeding and dignity are apparent in them, though they be dressed in hair cloth and have each one a wallet hanging to her neck; and their eyes are tearful and their hearts are sorrowful. So I have brought them to thee that thou mayst give them refuge, and rescue them from beggary, for they are not of asker folk and, if it please Allah, we shall enter Paradise through them.” “By Allah, O my master,” cried she, “thou makest me long to see them! Where are they?”, adding, “Here with them to me!” So he bade the eunuch bring them in; and, when she looked on them and saw that they were both of distinguished beauty, she wept for them and said, “By Allah, these are people of condition and show plain signs of former opulence.” “O my lady,” said the Syndic’s wife, “we love the poor and the destitute, more especially as reward in Heaven will recompense our love; and, as for these persons, haply the oppressor hath dealt hardly with them and hath plundered their property and harried their houses.” Then Ghanim’s mother and sister wept with sore weeping, remembering their former prosperity and contrasting it with their present poverty and miserable condition; and their thoughts dwelt upon son and brother, whilst Kut al-Kulub wept for their weeping; and they said, “We beseech Allah to reunite us with him whom we desire, and he is none other but my son named Ghanim bin Ayyud!” When Kut al-Kulub heard this, she knew them to be the mother and sister of her lover and wept till a swoon came over her. When she revived she turned to them and said, “Have no fear and sorrow not, for this day is the first of your prosperity and the last of your adversity!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kut al-Kulub had consoled them she bade the Syndic lead them to his house and let his wife carry them to the Hammam and dress them in handsome clothes and take care of them and honour them with all honour; and she gave him a sufficient sum of money. Next day, she mounted and, riding to his house, went in to his wife who rose up and kissed her hands and thanked her for her kindness. There she saw Ghanim’s mother and sister whom the Syndic’s wife had taken to the Hammam and clothed afresh, so that the traces of their former condition became manifest upon them. She sat talking with them awhile, after which she asked the wife about the sick youth who was in her house and she replied, “He is in the same state.” Then said Kut al-Kulub, “Come, let us go and visit him.” So she arose, she and the Chief’s wife and Ghanim’s mother and sister, and went in to the room where he lay and sat down near him. Presently Ghanim bin Ayyub, the Distraught, the Thrall o’ Love, heard them mention the name of Kut al-Kulub; whereupon life returned to him, emaciated and withered as he was and he raised his head from the pillow and cried aloud, “O Kut al-Kulub!” She looked at him and made certain it was he and shrieked rather than said, “Yes, O my beloved!” “Draw near to me;” said he, and she replied, “Surely thou art Ghanim bin Ayyub?”; and he rejoined “I am indeed!” Hereupon a swoon came upon her; and, as soon as Ghanim’s mother and his sister Fitnah heard these words, both cried out “O our joy’” and fainted clean away. When they all recovered, Kut al-Kulub exclaimed “Praise be to Allah who hath brought us together again and who hath reunited thee with thy mother and thy sister!” And she related to him all that had befallen her with the Caliph and said “I have made known the truth to the Commander of the Faithful, who believed my words and was pleased with thee; and now he desireth to see thee,” adding, “He hath given me to thee.” Thereat he rejoiced with extreme joy, when she said, “Quit not this place till I come back” and, rising forthwith, betook herself to her palace. There she opened the chest which she had brought from Ghanim’s house and, taking out some of the diners, gave them to the Syndic saying, “Buy with this money for each of them four complete suits of the finest stuffs and twenty kerchiefs, and else beside of whatsoever they require;” after which she carried all three to the baths and had them washed and bathed and made ready for them consommés, and galangale-water and cider against their coming out. When they left the Hammam, they put on the new clothes, and she abode with them three days feeding them with chicken meats and bouillis, and making them drink sherbert of sugar candy. After three days their spirits returned; and she carried them again to the baths, and when they came out and had changed their raiment, she led them back to the Syndic’s house and left them there, whilst she returned to the palace and craved permission to see the Caliph. When he ordered her to come in, she entered and, kissing the ground between his hands, told him the whole story and how her lord, Ghanim bin Ayyub, yclept the Distraught, the Thrall o’ Love, and his mother and sister were now in Baghdad. When the Caliph heard this, he turned to the eunuchs and said, “Here with Ghanim to me.” So Ja’afar went to fetch him; but Kut al-Kulub forewent him and told Ghanim, “The Caliph hath sent to fetch thee before him,” and charged him to show readiness of tongue and firmness of heart and sweetness of speech. Then she robed him in a sumptuous dress and gave him diners in plenty, saying, “Be lavish of largesse to the Caliph’s household as thou goest in to him.” Presently Ja’afar, mounted on his Nubian mule, came to fetch him; and Ghanim advanced to welcome the Wazir and, wishing him long life, kissed the ground before him. Now the star of his good fortune had risen and shone brightly; and Ja’afar took him; and they ceased not faring together, he and the Minister, till they went in to the Commander of the Faithful. When he stood in the presence, he looked at the Wazirs and Emirs and Chamberlains, and Viceroys and Grandees and Captains, and then at the Caliph. Hereupon he sweetened his speech and his eloquence and, bowing his head to the ground, broke out in these extempore couplets,
“May that Monarch’s life span a mighty span,
Whose lavish of largesse all Empyrean! lieges scan:
None other but he shall be Kaysar hight,
Lord of lordly hall and of haught Divan:
Kings lay their gems on his threshold-dust
As they bow and salam to the mighty man;
And his glances foil them and all recoil,
Bowing beards aground and with faces wan:
Yet they gain the profit of royal grace,
The rank and station of high
Earth’s plain is scant for thy world of men,
Camp there in Kay wan’s1 Empyrean!
May the King of Kings ever hold thee dear;
Be counsel thine and right steadfast plan
Till thy justice spread o’er the wide spread earth
And the near and the far be of equal worth.”
When he ended his improvisation the Caliph was pleased by it and marvelled at the eloquence of his tongue and the sweetness of his speech — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Pers. name of the planet Saturn in the Seventh Heaven. Arab. “Zuhal”; the Kiun or Chiun of Amos vi. 26.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph, after marvelling at his eloquence of tongue and sweetness of speech, said to him, “Draw near to me.” So he drew near and quoth the King, “Tell me thy tale and declare to me thy case.” So Ghanim sat down and related to him what had befallen him in Baghdad, of his sleeping in the tomb and of his opening the chest after the three slaves had departed, and informed him, in short, of everything that had happened to him from commencement to conclusion none of which we will repeat for interest fails in twice told tales. The Caliph was convinced that he was a true man; so he invested him with a dress of honour, and placed him near himself in token of favour, and said to him, “Acquit me of the responsibility I have incurred.’’1 And Ghanim so did, saying, “O our lord the Sultan, of a truth thy slave and all things his two hands own are his master’s.” The Caliph was pleased at this and gave orders to set apart a palace for him and assigned to him pay and allowances, rations and donations, which amounted to something immense. So he removed thither with sister and mother; after which the Caliph, hearing that his sister Fitnah was in beauty a very “fitnah,”2 a mere seduction, demanded her in marriage of Ghanim who replied, “She is thy handmaid as I am thy slave.” The Caliph thanked him and gave him an hundred thousand diners, then summoned the witnesses and the Kazi, and on one and the same day they wrote out the two contracts of marriage between the Caliph and Fitnah and between Ghanim bin Ayyub and Kut al-Kulub; and the two marriages were consummated on one and the same night. When it was morning, the Caliph gave orders to record the history of what had befallen Ghanim from first to last and to deposit it in the royal muniment rooms, that those who came after him might read it and marvel at the dealings of Destiny and put their trust in Him who created the night and the day. Yet, O auspicious King, this story to which thou hast deigned give ear is on no wise more wondrous than the
The King asked her, “And what was their story?” and she answered: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that there was in the City of Safety, Baghdad, before the Caliphate of Abd al-Malik bin Marwán,2 a King, Omar bin al-Nu’umán hight, who was of the mighty giants and had subjected the Chosroës of Persia and the Kaysars of Eastern Rome; for none could warm himself at his fire;3 nor could any avail to meet him in the field of foray and fray; and, when he was angered, there came forth from his nostrils sparks of flame. He had made himself King over all quarters, and Allah had subjected to him all His creatures; his word went forth to all great cities and his hosts had harried the farthest lands. East and West had come under his command with whatsoever regions lay interspersed between them, Hind and Sind and Sin,4 the Holy Land, Al–Hijaz, the rich mountains of Al–Yaman and the archipelagos of India and China. Moreover, he reigned supreme over the north country and Diyár Bakr, or Mesopotamia, and over Sudán, the Eastern Negro land and the Islands of the Ocean, and all the far famed rivers of the earth, Sayhún and Jayhún,5 Nile and Euphrates. He sent envoys and ambassadors to capitals the most remote, to provide him with true report; and they would bring back tidings of justice and peace, with assurance of loyalty and obedience and of prayers in the pulpits for King Omar bin al-Nu’uman; for he was, O Ruler of the Age, a right noble King; and there came to him presents of rarities and toll and tribute from all lands of his governing. This mighty monarch had a son yclept Sharrkan,6 who was likest of all men to his father and who proved himself one of the prodigies of his time for subduing the brave and bringing his contemporaries to bane and ban. For this his father loved him with love so great none could be greater, and made him heir to the kingdom after himself. This Prince grew up till he reached man’s estate and was twenty years old, and Allah subjected His servants to him, by reason of his great might and prowess in battle. Now his father, King Omar, had four wives legally married, but Allah had vouchsafed him no son by them, save Sharrkan, whom he had begotten upon one of them, and the rest were barren. Moreover he had three hundred and sixty concubines, after the number of days in the Coptic year, who were of all nations; and he had furnished for each and every a private chamber within his own palace. For he had built twelve pavilions, after the number of the months, each containing thirty private chambers, which thus numbered three hundred and three score, wherein he lodged his handmaids: and he appointed according to law for each one her night, when he lay with her and came not again to her for a full year;7 and on this wise he abode for a length of time. Meanwhile his son Sharrkan was making himself renowned in all quarters of the world and his father was proud of him and his might waxed and grew mightier; so that he passed all bounds and bore himself masterfully and took by storm castles and cities. Presently, by decree of the Decreer, a handmaid among the handmaids of Omar bin Nu’uman became pregnant; and, her pregnancy being announced to the Harim, the King was informed thereof; whereupon he rejoiced with exceeding joy and said, “Haply it will be a son, and so all my offspring will be males!” Then he documented the date of her conception and entreated her with all manner of kindness. But when the tidings came to Sharrkan, he was troubled and the matter seemed to him a sore one and a grievous; and he said, “Verily one cometh who shall dispute with me the sovereignty:” so quoth he to himself, “If this concubine bear a male child I will kill it:” but he kept that intention hidden in his heart. Such was the case with Sharrkan; but what happened in the matter of the damsel was as follows. She was a Roumiyah, a Greek girl, by name Sofiyah or Sophia,8 whom the King of Roum and Lord of Cæsarea had sent to King Omar as a present, together with great store of gifts and of rarities: she was the fairest of favour and loveliest of all his handmaids and the most regardful of her honour; and she was gifted with a wit as penetrating as her presence was fascinating. Now she had served the King on the night of his sleeping with her, saying to him, “O King! I desire of the God of the Heavens that he bless thee this night with a male child by me, so I may bring him up with the best of rearing, and enable him to reach man’s estate perfect in intelligence, good manners and prudent bearing”9 — a speech which much pleased the King. During her pregnancy she was instant in prayer, fervently supplicating the Lord to bless her with a goodly male child and make his birth easy to her; and Allah heard her petition so that after her months were accomplished she sat safely upon the birth stool.10 Now the King had deputed a eunuch to let him know if the child she should bring forth were male or female; and in like way his son Sharrkan had sent one to bring him tidings of the same. In due time Sophia was delivered of a child, which the midwives examined and found to be a girl with a face sheenier than the moon. So they announced this to all present in the room, whereupon the King’s messenger carried the news to him; and Sharrkan’s eunuch did the like with his master who rejoiced with exceeding joy. But, after the two had departed, quoth Sophia to the midwives, “Wait with me awhile, for I feel as if there were still somewhat in my womb.” Then she cried out and the pains of child bed again took her; and Allah made it easy to her and she gave birth to a second child. The wise women looked at it and found it a boy like the full moon, with forehead flower white, and cheek ruddy bright with rosy light; whereupon the mother rejoiced, as did the eunuchs and attendants and all the company; and Sophia was delivered of the after birth whilst all in the palace sent forth the trill of joy.11 The rest of the concubines heard it and envied her lot; and the tidings reached Omar son of Al — Nu’uman, who was glad and rejoiced at the excellent news. Then he rose and went to her and kissed her head, after which he looked at the boy; and, bending over him, kissed him, whilst the damsels struck the tabors and played on instruments of music; and the King gave order that the boy should be named Zau al-Makán and his sister Nuzhat al-Zamán.12 They answered “Hearing and obedience,” and did his bidding; so he appointed wet nurses and dry nurses and eunuchs and attendants to serve them; and assigned them rations of sugar and diet drinks and unguents and else beside, beyond the power of tongue to rehearse. Moreover the people of Baghdad, hearing that Allah had blessed their King with issue, decorated the city and made proclamation of the glad tidings with drum and tom tom; and the Emirs and Wazirs and high dignitaries came to the palace and wished King Omar bin al-Nu’uman joy of his son, Zau al-Makan, and of his daughter Nuzhat al-Zaman, wherefore he thanked them and bestowed on them dresses of honour and further favoured them with gifts, and dealt largesse to all, gentle and simple, who were present. After this fashion he did for four days full told, and he lavished upon Sophia raiment and ornaments and great store of wealth; and, every few days he would send a messenger to ask after her and the new-borns. And when four years had gone by, he provided her with the wherewithal to rear the two children carefully and educate them with the best of instructions. All this while his son Sharrkan knew not that a male child had been born to his father, Omar son of Al–Nu’uman, having news only that he had been blessed with the birth of Nuzhat al-Zaman; and they hid the intelligence from him, until days and years had sped by, whilst he was busied in battling with the brave and fighting single handed against the knights. One day, as King Omar was sitting in his palace, his Chamberlains came in to him and, kissing the ground before him, said, “O King there be come Ambassadors from the King of Roum, Lord of Constantinople the Great, and they desire admission to thee and submission to thy decree: if the King commend us to introduce them we will so do; and, if not, there is no disputing his behest.” He bade them enter and, when they came in, he turned to them and, courteously receiving them, asked them of their case, and what was the cause of their coming. They kissed the ground before him and said, “O King glorious and strong! O lord of the arm that is long! know that he who despatched us to thee is King Afrídún,13 Lord of Ionia land 14 and of the Nazarene armies, the sovereign who is firmly established in the empery of Constantinople, to acquaint thee that he is now waging fierce war and fell with a tyrant and a rebel, the Prince of Casarea; and the cause of this war is as follows. One of the Kings of the Arabs in past time, during certain of his conquests, chanced upon a hoard of the time of Alexander,15 whence he removed wealth past compute; and, amongst other things, three round jewels, big as ostrich eggs, from a mine of pure white gems whose like was never seen by man. Upon each were graven characts in Ionian characters, and they have many virtues and properties, amongst the rest that if one of these jewels be hung round the neck of a new-born child, no evil shall befal him and he shall neither wail, nor shall fever ail him as long as the jewel remain without fail.16 When the Arab King laid hands upon them and learned their secrets, he sent to King Afridun presents of certain rarities and amongst them the three jewels afore mentioned; and he equipped for the mission two ships, one bearing the treasure and the other men of might to guard it from any who might offer hindrance on the high seas, albeit well assured that none would dare waylay his vessels, for that he was King of the Arabs, and more by token that their course lay over waters subject to the King of Constantinople and they were bound to his port; nor were there on the shores of that sea any save the subjects of the Great King, Afridun. The two ships set out and voyaged till they drew near our city, when there sallied out on them certain corsairs from that country and amongst them troops from the Prince of Caesarea, who took all the treasures and rarities in the ships, together with the three jewels, and slew the crews. When our King heard of this, he sent an army against them, but they routed it; then he marched a second and a stronger but they put this also to flight — whereupon the King waxed wroth and swore that he would not go forth17 against them save in his own person at the head of his whole army; nor would he turn back from them till he had left Caesarea, of Armenia18 in ruins and had laid waste all the lands and cities over which her Prince held sway. So he sent us to the Lord of the age and the time, Sultan Omar bin al-Nu’uman, King of Baghdad and of Khorasan, desiring that he aid us with an army, so may honour and glory accrue to him; and he hath also forwarded by us somewhat of various kinds of presents, and of the King’s grace he beggeth their acceptance and the friendly boon of furtherance.” Then the Ambassadors kissed the ground before him — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This knightly tale, the longest in the Nights (xliv. — cxlv.), about one-eighth of the whole, does not appear in the Bres. Edit. Lane, who finds it “objectionable,” reduces it to two of its episodes, Azíz-cum-Azízah and Táj al-Mulúk. On the other hand it has been converted into a volume (8vo, pp. 240) “Scharkan, Conte Arabe,” etc. Traduit par M. Asselan Riche, etc. Paris: Dondey–Dupré. 1829. It has its longueurs and at times is longsome enough; but it is interesting as a comparison between the chivalry of Al–Islam and European knight-errantry. Although all the characters are fictitious the period is evidently in the early crusading days. Cæsarea, the second capital of Palestine, taken during the Caliphate of Omar (A.H. 19) and afterwards recovered, was fortified in A.H. 353 = 963 as a base against the Arabs by the Emperor Phocas, the Arab. “Nakfúr” i.e. Nicephorus. In A.H. 498=1104, crusading craft did much injury by plundering merchantmen between Egypt and Syria, to which allusion is found in the romance. But the story teller has not quite made up his mind about which Cæsarea he is talking, and M. Riche tells us that Césarée is a “ville de la Mauritanie, en Afrique” (p. 20).
2 The fifth Ommiade Caliph reign. A.H. 65–86 = 685–704.
3 This does not merely mean that no one was safe from his wrath: or, could approach him in the heat of fight: it is a reminiscence of the masterful “King Kulayb,” who established game-laws in his dominions and would allow no man to approach his camp-fire. Moreover the Jinn lights a fire to decoy travellers, but if his victim be bold enough to brave him, he invites him to take advantage of the heat.
4 China.
5 The Jaxartes and the Bactrus (names very loosely applied).
6 In full “Sharrun kána” i.e. an evil (Sharr) has come to being (kána) that is, “bane to the foe” a pagan and knightly name. The hero of the Romance “Al–Dalhamah” is described as a bitter gourd (colocynth), a viper, a calamity.
7 This is a Moslem law (Koran chaps. iv. bodily borrowed from the Talmud) which does not allow a man to marry one wife unless he can carnally satisfy her. Moreover he must distribute his honours equally and each wife has a right to her night unless she herself give it up. This was the case even with the spouses of the Prophet; and his biography notices several occasions when his wives waived their rights in favour of one another M. Riche kindly provides the King with la piquante francaise (p. 15).
8 So the celebrated mosque in Stambul, famed for being the largest church in the world is known to the Greeks as “Agia (pron. Aya) Sophia” and to Moslems as “Aye Sofíyeh” (Holy Wisdom) i.e. the Logos or Second Person of the Trinity (not a Saintess). The sending a Christian girl as a present to a Moslem would, in these days, be considered highly scandalous. But it was done by the Mukaukis or Coptic Governor of Egypt (under Heraclius) who of course hated the Greeks. This worthy gave two damsels to Mohammed; one called Sírín and the other Máriyah (Maria) whom the Prophet reserved for his especial use and whose abode is still shown at Al–Medinah. The Rev. Doctor Badger (loc. cit. p. 972) gives the translation of an epistle by Mohammed to this Mukaukis, written in the Cufic character (??) and sealed “Mohammed, The Apostle of Allah.” My friend seems to believe that it is an original, but upon this subject opinions will differ. It is, however, exceedingly interesting, beginning with “Bismillah,” etc., and ending (before the signature) with a quotation from the Koran (iii. 57); and it may be assumed as a formula addressee to foreign potentates by a Prophet who had become virtually “King of Arabia.”
9 This prayer before “doing the deed of kind” is, I have said, Moslem as well Christian.
10 Exodus i. 16, quoted by Lane (M. E., chaps. xxvii.). Torrens in his Notes cites Drayton’s “Moon-calf’:—
Bring forth the birth-stool — no, let it alone;
She is so far beyond all compass grown,
Some other new device us needs must stead,
Or else she never can be brought to bed.
It is the “groaning-chair” of Poor Robin’s Almanac (1676) and we find it alluded to in Boccaccio, the classical sedile which according to scoffers has formed the papal chair (a curule seat) ever since the days of Pope Joan, when it has been held advisable for one of the Cardinals to ascertain that His Holiness possesses all the instruments of virility. This “Kursí al-wiládah” is of peculiar form on which the patient is seated. A most interesting essay might be written upon the various positions preferred during delivery, e.g. the wild Irish still stand on all fours, like the so-called “lower animals.” Amongst the Moslems of Waday, etc., a cord is hung from the top of the hut, and the woman in labour holds on to it standing with her legs apart, till the midwife receives the child.
11 Some Orientalists call “lullilooing” the trilling cry, which is made by raising the voice to its highest pitch and breaking it by a rapid succession of touches on the palate with the tongue-tip, others “Ziraleet” and Zagaleet, and one traveller tells us that it began at the marriage-festival of Isaac and Rebecca (!). Arabs term it classically “Tahlíl” and vulgarly “Zaghrutah” (Plur. Zaghárit) and Persians “Kil.” Finally in Don Quixote we have “Lelilies,” the battle-cry of the Moors (Duffield iii. 289). Dr. Buchanan likens it to a serpent uttering human sounds, but the good missionary heard it at the festival of Jagannath. (Pilgrimage iii. 197 )
12 i.e. “Light of the Place” (or kingdom) and “Delight of the Age.”
13 It is utterly absurd to give the old heroic Persian name Afridun or Furaydun, the destroyer of Zohák or Zahhák to a Greek, but such anachronisms are characteristic of The Nights and are evidently introduced on purpose. See Boccaccio, ix. 9.
14 Arab. “Yunán” lit. Ionia, which applies to all Greece, insular and continental, especially to ancient Greece.
15 In 1870 I saw at Sidon a find of some hundreds of gold “Philippi” and “Alexanders.”
16 M. Riche has (p. 21), “Ces talismans travaillés par le ciseau du célèbre Califaziri,” adding in a note, “Je pense que c’est un sculpteur Arabe.”
17 This periphrase, containing what seems to us a useless negative, adds emphasis in Arabic.
18 This bit of geographical information is not in the Bull Edit.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that, after the Ambassadors and retinue from the Constantinopolitan King had kissed the ground before Omar and had delivered their embassage, they brought out the presents, which were fifty damsels of the choicest from Graecia-land, and fifty Mamelukes in tunics of brocade, belted with girdles of gold and silver, each wearing in his ears hoops of gold with pendants of fine pearls costing a thousand ducats every one. The girls were adorned in like fashion and were clad in stuffs worth a treasury of money. When the King saw them, he rejoiced in them and accepted them; then he bade the Ambassadors be honourably entreated and, summoning his Wazirs, took counsel with them of what he should do. Herewith rose up among them a Wazir, an ancient man, Dandan1 hight, who kissed the ground before Omar and said, “O King, there is nothing better to do in this matter than equip an army valiant and victorious, and set over it thy son Sharrkan with us as his lieutenants; and this rede commendeth itself to me on two counts; first, because the King of Roum hath invoked thine assistance and hath sent thee gifts which thou hast accepted; and, secondly, because while no enemy dareth attack our country, thine army may go forth safely and, should it succour the King of Graecia-land and defeat his foe, the glory will be thine. Moreover, the news of it will be noised abroad in all cities and countries and especially, when the tidings shall reach the Islands of the Ocean and the Kings of Mauritania shall hear it, they will send thee offerings of rarities and pay thee tribute of money.” The King pleased by the Wazir’s words and approving his rede, gave him a dress of honour and said to him, “Of the like of thee should Kings ask counsel, and it seemeth fit that thou shouldst conduct the van of our army and our son Sharrkan command the main battle.” Then he sent for his son who came and kissed ground before him and sat down; and he expounded to him the matter, telling him what the Ambassadors and the Wazir Dandan had said, and he charged him to take arms and equip himself for the campaign, enjoining him not to gainsay Dandan in aught he should do. Moreover, he ordered him to pick out of his army ten thousand horsemen, armed cap-à-pie and inured to onset and stress of war. Accordingly, Sharrkan arose on the instant, and chose out a myriad of horsemen, after which he entered his palace and mustered his host and distributed largesse to them, saying, “Ye have delay of three days.” They kissed the earth before him in obedience to his commands and began at once to lay in munitions, and provide provisions for the occasion; whilst Sharrkan repaired to the armouries and took therefrom whatsoever he required of arms and armour, and thence to the stable where he chose horses of choice blood and others. When the appointed three days were ended, the army drew out to the suburbs of Baghdad city;2 and King Omar came forth to take leave of his son who kissed the ground before him and received from the King seven parcels of money.3 Then he turned to Danden and commended to his care the army of his son; and the Wazir kissed the ground before him and answered, “I hear and I obey;” and lastly he charged Sharrkan that he should consult the Wazir on all occasions, which he promised to do. After this, the King returned to his city and Sharrkan ordered the officers to muster their troops in battle array. So they mustered them and their number was ten thousand horsemen, besides footmen and camp followers. Then they loaded their baggage on their beasts and the war drums beat and the trumpets blared and the bannerols and standards were unfurled, whilst Sharrkan mounted horse, with the Wazir Dandan by his side, and the colours fluttering over their heads. So the host fared forth and stinted not faring, with the ambassadors preceding them, till day departed and night drew nigh, when they alighted and encamped for the night. And as soon as Allah caused the morn tomorrow, they mounted and tried on, guided by the Ambassadors, for a space of twenty days; and by the night of the twenty first they came to a fine and spacious Wady well grown with trees and shrubbery. Here Sharrkan ordered them to alight and commanded a three days’ halt, so they dismounted and pitched their tents, spreading their camp over the right and the left slopes of the extensive valley, whilst the Wazir Dandan and the Ambassadors of King Afridun pitched in the sole of the Wady.4 As for Sharrkan, he tarried behind them for awhile till all had dismounted and had dispersed themselves over the valley sides; he then slacked the reins of his steed, being minded to explore the Wady and to mount guard in his own person, because of his father’s charge and owing to the fact that they were on the frontier of Graecia land and in the enemy’s country. So he rode out alone after ordering his armed slaves and his body guard to camp near the Wazir Dandan, and he fared on along the side of the valley till a fourth part of the night was passed, when he felt tired and drowsiness overcame him, so that he could no longer urge horse with heel. Now he was accustomed to take rest on horseback; so when slumber overpowered him, he slept and the steed ceased not going on with him till half the night was spent and entered one of the thickets5 which was dense with growth; but Sharrkan awoke not until his horse stumbled over wooded ground. Then he started from sleep and found himself among the trees, and the moon arose and shone brightly over the two horizons, Eastern and Western. He was startled when he found himself alone in this place and said the say which ne’er yet shamed its sayer, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” But as he rode on, in fear of wild beasts, behold, the moon spread her glad light over a meadow as if it were of the meads of Paradise; and he heard pleasant voices and a loud noise of talk and laughter captivating the senses of men. So King Sharrkan alighted and, tying his steed to one of the trees, went over a little way till he came upon a stream and heard a woman talking in Arabic and saying, “Now by the crush of the Messiah, this is not well of you! but whose utters a word, I will throw her and truss her up with her own girdle6!” He kept walking in the direction of the sound and when he reached the further side he looked and behold, a stream was gushing and flowing, and antelopes at large were frisking and roving, and wild cattle amid the pasture moving, and birds expressed joy and gladness in their divers tongues, and that place was purfled with all manner flowers and green herbs, even as a poet described it in these couplets,
“Most beautiful is earth in budding bloom,
When lucid waters course through plain and wood:
No work but His th’ All great, th’ All glorious,
Giver of all gifts, Giver of all good!”
And as Sharrkan considered the place, he saw in it a Christian Monastery within whose enceinte a castle towered high in air catching the light of the moon.7 Through the midst of the convent passed a stream, the water flowing amongst its gardens; and upon the bank sat the woman whose voice he had heard, while before her stood ten handmaids like moons and wearing various sorts of raiment and ornaments that dazed and dazzled the beholder, high bosomed virgins, as saith of them the poet in these couplets,
“The mead is bright with what is on’t
Of merry maidens debonnair:
Double its beauty and its grace
Those trooping damsels slender-fair:
Virgins of graceful swimming gait
Ready with eye and lip to ensnare;
And like the tendril’d vine they loose
The rich profusion of their hair:
Shooting their shafts and arrows from
Beautiful eyes beyond compare;
Overpowering and transpiercing
Every froward adversaire.”
Sharrkan gazed upon the ten girls and saw in their midst a lady like the moon at fullest, with ringleted hair and forehead sheeny white, and eyes wondrous wide and black and bright, and temple locks like the scorpion’s tail; and she was perfect in essence and attributes, as the poet said of her in these couplets,
“She beamed on my sight with a wondrous glance,
And her straight slender stature enshamed the lance:
She burst on my sight with cheeks rosy red,
Where all manner of beauties have habitance:
And the locks on her forehead were lowering as night
Whence issues a dawn tide of happiest chance.”
Then Sharrkan heard her say to the handmaids, “Come ye on, that I may wrestle with you and gravel you, ere the moon set and the dawn break!” So each came up to her in turn and she grounded them forthright, and pinioned them with their girdles, and ceased not wrestling and pitching them until she had overthrown one and all. Then there turned to her an old woman who was before her, and the beldam said as in wrath, “O strumpet, cost thou glory in grounding these girls? Behold I am an old woman, yet have I thrown them forty times! So what hast thou to boast of? But if thou have the strength to wrestle with me, stand up that I may grip thee and set thy head between thy heels!” The young lady smiled at her words, but she was filled with inward wrath, and she jumped up and asked, “O my lady Zat al-Dawahi,8 by the truth of the Messiah, wilt thou wrestle with me in very deed, or dost thou jest with me?”; and she answered, “Yea,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In Pers. = a tooth, the popular word.
2 This preliminary move, called in Persian Nakl-i Safar, is generally mentioned. So the Franciscan monks in California, when setting out for a long journey through the desert, marched three times round the convent and pitched tents for the night under its walls.
3 In Arab. “Khazinah” or “Khaznah” lit. a treasure, representing 1,000 “Kís” or purses (each=£5). The sum in the text is 7,000 purses X 5=£35,000.
4 Travellers often prefer such sites because they are sheltered from the wind, and the ground is soft for pitching tents; but many have come to grief from sudden torrents following rain.
5 Arab “Ghábah” not a forest in our sense of the word, but a place where water sinks and the trees (mostly Mimosas), which elsewhere are widely scattered, form a comparatively dense growth and collect in thickets. These are favourite places for wild beasts during noon-heats.
6 At various times in the East Jews and Christians were ordered to wear characteristic garments, especially the Zunnár or girdle.
7 The description is borrowed from the Coptic Convent, which invariably has an inner donjon or keep. The oldest monastery in the world is Mar Antonios (St. Anthony the Hermit) not far from Suez. (Gold Mines of Midian, p. 85.)
8 “Dawáhí,” plur. of Dáhiyah = a mishap. The title means “Mistress of Misfortunes” or Queen of Calamities (to the enemy); and the venerable lady, as will be seen, amply deserved her name, which is pronounced Zát al-Dawáhí.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the young lady asked Zat al-Dawahi, “By the truth of the Messiah, wilt wrestle with me or dost jest?”, and she answered, “Yea, I will wrestle with thee in very deed” (Sharrkan looking on the while), the damsel cried, “Rise up for the fall an thou have spunk so to do.” When the old woman heard this, she raged with exceeding rage, and her body hair stood on end like the bristles of a fretful hedgehog.1 Then she sprang to her feet, whilst the damsel stood up to her, and said, “Now by the truth of the Messiah, I will not wrestle with thee unless I be naked, Mistress whore!”2 So she loosed her petticoat trousers and, putting her hand under her clothes, tore them off her body; then twisted up a silken kerchief into cord shape, girt it round her middle and became as she were a scald head If ritah or a spotted snake. With this she inclined towards the damsel and said, “Do thou as I have done.” All this time, Sharrkan was gazing at the twain, and laughing at the beldam’s loathly semblance. So the damsel leisurely rose and, taking a sash of Yamani stuff, passed it twice round her waist, then she tucked up her trousers and displayed two calves of alabaster carrying a mound of crystal, smooth and rounded, and a stomach which exhaled musk from its dimples, as it were a bed of Nu’uman’s anemones; and breasts like double pomegranates. Then the old woman leant towards her, and the two laid hold either of each, while Sharrkan raised his head Heavenwards and prayed Allah that the belle might beat the beldam. Presently the young woman get beneath the old woman; and, gripping her waist cloth with the left and circling her neck with the right hand, hoisted her off the ground with both; whereupon the old woman strove to free herself and, in so doing fell on her back arsiversy, with her legs high in air and her hairy bush between them showed manifest in the moonshine; furthermore she let fly two great farts3 one of which blew up the dust from the earth’s face and the other steamed up to the gate of Heaven. Sharrkan laughed till he fell back upon the ground. Then he arose and, baring his brand looked right and left, but he saw no one save the old woman sprawling on her back, and said to himself, “He lied not who named thee Lady of Calamities! Verily thou knewest her prowess by her performance upon the others.” So he drew near them to hear what should pass between them. Then the young lady went up to the old one and, throwing a wrapper of thin silk upon her nakedness, helped her to don her clothes and made excuses saying, “O my lady Zat al-Dawahi, I intended only to throw thee and not all this, but thou triedst to twist out of my hands; so laud to Allah for safety!” She returned her no answer, but rose in her shame and walked away till out of sight, leaving the handmaids prostrate and pinioned, with the fair damsel standing amongst them. Quoth Sharrkan to himself, “Every luck hath its cause. Sleep did not fall upon me nor the war horse bear me hither save for my good fortune; for doubtless this maid and what is with her shall become booty to me.” So he made towards his steed and mounted and heeled4 him on, when he sped as the shaft speeds from the bow and in his hand he still hent his brand bare of sheath, which he brandished shouting the while his war cry, “Allah is All mighty5!” When the damsel saw him she sprang to her feet and, taking firm stand on the bank of the stream, whose breadth was six ells, the normal cubits, made one bound and landed clear on the farther side,6 where she turned and cried out with a loud voice, “Who art thou, O thou fellow, that breakest in upon our privacy and pastime, and that too hanger in hand as if charging a host? Whence camest thou and whither art thou going? Speak sooth, for truth will stand thee in good stead, and lie not, for lies come of villein breed Doubtless thou hast wandered this night from thy way, that thou chancedst upon this place whence escape were the greatest of mercies; for thou art now in an open plain and, did we shout but a single shout, would come to our rescue four thousand knights.7 So tell me what thou wantest; and if thou wouldst only have us set thee on the right road, we will do so.” When Sharrkan heard her words he replied, “I am a stranger of the Moslems, who fared forth this night single handed, seeking for spoil; nor could this moonlight show me a fairer booty than these ten maidens; so I shall seize them and rejoin my comrades with them.” Quoth she, “I would have thee know that as for the booty thou hast not come at it; and, as for the handmaids, by Allah, they shall never be thy spoil. Have I not told thee that to lie is villein vile?” Quoth he, “The wise man is he who taketh warning by others.” Thereupon quoth she, “By the truth of the Messiah, did I not fear that thy death would be on my hands, I would shout a shout should fill the mead for thee with war steeds and with men of might, but I take pity upon the stranger. So, if thou seek booty, I require of thee that thou alight from thy steed and swear to me, by thy faith, that thou wilt not advance against me aught like arms in hand, and we will wrestle, I and thou. If thou throw me, set me on thy steed and take all of us to thy booty; but if I throw thee, thou shalt become under my command. Swear this to me, for I fear thy treachery: indeed it hath become a common saw, ‘Where Perfidy is innate there Trust is a weakly mate.’ Now an thou wilt swear I will return and draw near to thee and tackle thee.” Answered Sharrkan (and indeed he lusted to seize her and said in his soul, “Truly she knoweth not that I am a champion of champions”); “Swear me by what oath thou wilt and by what thou deemest most binding, and I will not approach thee with aught till thou hast made thy preparation and sayest, ‘Draw near that I wrestle with thee.’ If thou throw me, I have money where withal to ransom myself; and if I throw thee, ’twill be booty and booty enough for me!” Rejoined the damsel, “I am content herewith!” and Sharrkan was astounded at her words and said, “And by the truth of the Apostle (whom Allah bless and keep!) I too am content on the other part!” Then said she, “Swear to me by Him who sprite in body dight and dealt laws to rule man kind aright, that thou wilt not offer me aught of violence save by way of wrestling; else mayst thou die without the pale of Al-Islam.” Sharrkan replied, “By Allah! were a Kazi to swear me, even though he were a Kazi of the Kazis,8 he would not impose upon me such an oath as this!” Then he sware to her by all she named and tied his steed to a tree; but he was drowned in the sea of thought, saying in himself, “Praise be to Him who fashioned her from dirty water!”9 Then he girt himself and made ready for wrestling, and said to her, “Cross the stream to me;” but she replied, “It is not for me to come over to thee: if thou wilt, pass thou over here to me.” “I cannot do that,” quoth he, and quoth she, “O boy, I will come across to thee.” So she tucked up her skirts and, leaping, landed on the other side of the stream by his side; whereupon he drew near to her and bent him forwards and clapped palms.10 But he was confounded by her beauty and loveliness; for he saw a shape which the Hand of Power had tanned with the dye leaves of the Jann, which had been fostered by the Hand of Beneficence and fanned by the Zephyrs of fair fortune and whose birth a propitious ascendant had greeted. Then she called out to him, “O Moslem, come on and let us wrestle ere the break of morning,” and tucked up her sleeves from a forearm like fresh curd, which illumined the whole place with its whiteness; and Sharrkan was dazzled by it. Then he bent forwards and clapped his palms by way of challenge, she doing the like, and caught hold of her, and the two grappled and gripped and interlocked hands and arms. Presently he shifted his hands to her slender waist, when his finger tips sank into the soft folds of her middle, breeding languishment, and he fell a trembling like the Persian reed in the roaring gale. So she lifted him up and, throwing him to the ground, sat upon his breast with hips and hinder cheeks like mounds of sand, for his soul had lost mastery over his senses. Then she asked him, “O Moslem! the slaying of Nazarenes is lawful to you folk; what then hast thou to say about being slain thyself?”; and he answered, “O my lady, thy speech as regards slaying me is not other than unlawful; for our prophet Mohammed (whom Allah bless and preserve!) prohibited the slaying of women and children, old men and monks!” “As it was thus revealed to your Prophet,” she replied, “it behoveth us to render the equivalent of his mercy; so rise. I give thee thy life, for generosity is never lost upon the generous.” Then she got off his breast and he rose and stood shaking the dust from his head against the owners of the curved rib, even women; and she said to him, “Be not ashamed; but verily one who entereth the land of Roum in quest of booty, and cometh to assist Kings against Kings, how happeneth it that he hath not strength enough to defend himself from one made out of the curved rib?” “’Twas not for lack of strength in me,” he answered; “nor didst thou throw me by thy force; it was thy loveliness overthrew me; so if thou wilt grant me another bout, it will be of thy courtesy.” She laughed and said, “I grant thee thy request: but these handmaids have long been pinioned and their arms and sides are weary, and it were only right I should loose them, for haply this next wrestling bout will be long.” Then she went to the slave girls and, unbinding them, said to them in the tongue of Greece, “Get ye to some safe place, till I foil this Moslem’s lust and longing for you.” So they went away, whilst Sharrkan kept gazing at them and they kept turning to look at the two. Then each approached the adversary and he set his breast against hers, but when he felt waist touch waist, his strength failed him; and she, waxing ware of this, lifted him with her hands swiftlier than the blinding leven-flash, and threw him to the ground. He fell on his back,11 and then she said to him, “Rise: I give thee thy life a second time. I spared thee in the first count because of thy Prophet, for that he made unlawful the slaying of women; and I do so on the second count because of thy weakliness and the greenness of thine years and thy strangerhood; but I charge thee, if there be in the Moslem army sent by Omar bin al-Nu’uman to succour the King of Constantinople, a stronger than thou, send him hither and tell him of me: for in wrestling there are shifts and trips, catches and holds, such as the feint or falsing and the snap or first grip, the hug, the feet-catch, the thigh Lite,12 the jostle and the leg-lock.” “By Allah, O my lady,” quoth Sharrkan (and indeed he was highly incensed against her), “had I been Master al-Safdí, Master Mohammed Kimál or Ibn al-Saddí,13 as they were in their prime, I had kept no note of these shifts thou mentionest; for O my mistress, by Allah, thou hast not grassed me by thy strength, but by the blandishments of thy back parts; for we men of Mesopotamia so love a full formed thigh that nor sense was left me nor foresight. But now, an thou wish, thou shalt try a third fall with me while my wits are about me, and this last match is allowed me by the laws of the game which sayeth the best of three: moreover I have regained my presence of mind.” When she heard his words she said to him, “Hast thou not had a belly full of this wrestling, O vanquished one? However come on, an thou wilt; but know that this must be the last round.” Then she bent forward and challenged him and Sharrkan did likewise, setting to it in real earnest and being right cautious about the throw: so the two strove awhile and the damsel found in him a strength such as she had not observed before and said to him, “O Moslem, thou art now on thy mettle.” “Yes,” he replied, “thou knowest that there remaineth to me but this one round, after which each of us will wend a different way.” She laughed and he laughed too;14 then she overreached at his thigh and caught firm hold of it unawares, which made him greet the ground and fall full on his back. She laughed at him and said, “Art thou an eater of bran? Thou are like a Badawi’s bonnet which falleth off with every touch or else the Father of Winds15 that droppeth before a puff of air. Fie upon thee, O thou poor thing!” adding, “Get thee back to the Moslem army and send us other than thyself, for thou fairest of thews; and proclaim for us, among the Arabs and Persians, the Turks and Daylamites,16 whoso hath might in him, let him come to us.” Then she made a spring and landed on the other side of the stream and said to Sharrkan, laughing, “Parting with thee is right grievous to me, O my lord; but get thee to thy mates before dawn, lest the Knights come upon thee and pick thee up on their lance points. Thou hast no strength to defend thee against a woman, so how couldst thou hold thine own amongst men of might and Knights?” Sharrkan was confounded and called to her (as she turned from him making towards the convent), “O my lady, wilt thou go away and leave the miserable stranger, the broken hearted slave of love?” So she turned to him laughing and said, “What is thy want? I will grant thee thy prayer.” “Have I set foot in thy country and tasted the sweetness of thy courtesy,” replied he, “and shall I return without eating of thy victual and tasting thy hospitality; I who have become one of thy servitors!” “None baulk kindliness save the base,” she rejoined, “honour us in Allah’s name, on my head and eyes be it! Mount thy steed and ride along the brink of the stream over against me, for now thou art my guest.” At this Sharrkan was glad and, hastening back to his horse, mounted and walked him abreast of her, and she kept faring on till they came to a drawbridge17 built of beams of the white poplar, hung by pullies and steel chains and made fast with hooks and padlocks. When Sharrkan looked, he saw awaiting her upon the bridge the same ten handmaids whom she had thrown in the wrestling bouts; and, as she came up to them, she said to one in the Greek tongue, “Arise and take the reins of his horse and conduct him across into the convent.” So she went up to Sharrkan and led him over, much puzzled and perturbed with what he saw, and saying to himself, “O would that the Wazir Dandan were here with me that his eyes might look upon these fairest of favours.” Then he turned to the young lady and said to her, “O marvel of loveliness, now I have two claims upon thee; first the claim of good fellowship, and secondly for that thou hast carried me to thy home and offered me thy hospitality. I am now under thy commandance and thy guidance; so do me one last favour by accompanying me to the lands of Al–Islam; where thou shalt look upon many a lion hearted warrior and thou shalt learn who I am.” When she heard this she was angered and said to him, “By the truth of the Messiah, thou hast proved thyself with me a man of keen wit; but now I see what mischief there is in thy heart, and how thou canst permit thyself a speech which proveth thy traitorous intent. How should I do as thou sayest, when I wot that if I came to that King of yours, Omar bin al — Nu’uman, I should never get free from him? For truly he hath not the like of me or behind his city walls or within his palace halls, Lord of Baghdad and of Khorasan though he be, who hath built for himself twelve pavilions, in number as the months of the year, and in each a concubine after the number of the days; and if I come to him he would not prove shy of me, for your folk believe I am lawful to have and to hold as is said in your writ, ‘Or those women whom your right hand shall possess as slaves.’18 So how canst thou speak thus to me? As for thy saying, ‘Thou shalt look upon the braves of the Moslems,’ by the truth of the Messiah, thou sayest that which is not true, for I saw your army when it reached our land, these two days ago; and I did not see that your ordinance was the ordinance of Kings, but I beheld only a rabble of tribesmen gathered together. And as to thy words, ‘Thou shalt know who I am,’ I did not do thee kindness because of thy dignity but out of pride in myself; and the like of thee should not talk thus to the like of me, even wert thou Sharrkan, Omar bin al — Nu’uman’s son, the prowess name in these days!” “Knowest thou Sharrkan?” asked he; and she answered Yes! and I know of his coming with an army numbering ten thousand horsemen; also that he was sent by his sire with this force to gain prevalence for the King of Constantinople.” “O my lady,” said Sharrkan, “I adjure thee by thy religion, tell me the cause of all this, that sooth may appear to me clear of untruth, and with whom the fault lies.” “Now by the virtue of thy faith,” she replied, “did I not fear lest the news of me be bruited abroad that I am of the daughters of Roum, I would adventure myself and sally forth single handed against the ten thousand horsemen and slay their leader, the Wazir Dandan and vanquish their champion Sharrkan.19 Nor would aught of shame accrue to me thereby, for I have read books and studied the rules of good breeding in the language of the Arabs. But I have no need to vaunt my own prowess to thee, more by token as thou hast proved in thy proper person my skill and strength in wrestling; and thou hast learnt my superiority over other women. Nor, indeed, had Sharrkan himself been here this night and it were said to him, ‘Clear this stream,’ could he have done it; and I only long and lust that the Messiah would throw him into my hands in this very convent, that I might go forth to him in the habit of a man and drag him from his saddle seat and make him my captive and lay him in bilboes.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kunfuz”=hedgehog or porcupine.
2 These flowers of speech are mere familiarities, not insults. In societies where the sexes are separated speech becomes exceedingly free. “Étourdie que vous êtes,” says M. Riche, toning down the text.
3 Arab. “Zirt,” a low word. The superlative “Zarrát” (fartermost) or, “Abu Zirt” (Father of farts) is a facetious term among the bean-eating Fellahs and a deadly insult amongst the Badawin (Night ccccx.). The latter prefer the word Taggáa (Pilgrimage iii. 84). We did not disdain the word in farthingale=pet en air.
4 Arab. “kicked” him, i.e. with the sharp corner of the shovel-stirrup. I avoid such expressions as “spurring” and “pricking over the plain,” because apt to give a wrong idea.
5 Arab. “Allaho Akbar!” the classical Moslem slogan.
6 Arab horses are never taught to leap, so she was quite safe on the other side of a brook nine feet broad.
7 “Batrík” (vulg. Bitrík)=patricius, a title given to Christian knights who commanded ten thousand men; the Tarkhan (or Nobb) heading four thousand, and the Kaumas (Arab. Káid) two hundred. It must not be confounded with Batrak (or Batrik)=patriarcha. (Lane’s Lex.)
8 Arab. “Kázi al-Kuzát,” a kind of Chief Justice or Chancellor. The office wag established under the rule of Harun al Rashid, who so entitled Abú Yúsuf Ya’akab al-Ansári: therefore the allusion is anachronistic. The same Caliph also caused the Olema to dress as they do still.
9 The allusion is Koranic: “O men, if ye be in doubt concerning the resurrection, consider that He first created you of the dust of the ground (Adam), afterwards of seed” (chaps. xxii.). But the physiological ideas of the Koran are curious. It supposes that the Mani or male semen is in the loins and that of women in the breast bone (chaps Ixxxvi.); that the mingled seed of the two (chaps. Ixxvi.) fructifies the ovary and that the child is fed through the navel with menstruous blood, hence the cessation of the catamenia. Barzoi (Kalilah and Dímnah) says:— “Man’s seed, falling into the woman’s womb, is mixed with her seed and her blood: when it thickens and curdles the Spirit moves it and it turns about like liquid cheese; then it solidifies, its arteries are formed, its limbs constructed and its joints distinguished. If the babe is a male, his face is placed towards his mother’s back; if a female, towards her belly.” (P. 262, Mr. L G.N. Keith — Falconer’s translation.) But there is a curious prolepsis of the spermatozoa-theory. We read (Koran chaps. vii.), “Thy Lord drew forth their posterity from the loins of the sons of Adam;” and the commentators say that Allah stroked Adam’s back and extracted from his loins all his posterity, which shall ever be, in the shape of small ants; these confessed their dependence on God and were dismissed to return whence they came.” From this fiction it appears (says Sale) that the doctrine of pre-existence is not unknown to the Mohammedans, and there is some little conformity between it and the modern theory of generatio ex animalculis in semine marium. The poets call this Yaum-i-Alast = the Day of Am-I-not (-your Lord)? which Sir William Jones most unhappily translated “Art thou not with thy Lord?” (Alasta bi Rabbi — kum); fand they produce a grand vision of unembodied spirits appearing in countless millions before their Creator.
10 The usual preliminary of a wrestling bout.
11 In Eastern wrestling this counts as a fair fail. So Ajax fell on his back with Ulysses on his breast. (Iliad xxxii., 700, etc.)
12 So biting was allowed amongst the Greeks in the
, the final struggle on the ground.
13 Supposed to be names of noted wrestlers. “Kayim” (not El–Kim as Torrens has it) is a term now applied to a juggler or “professor” of legerdemain who amuses people in the streets with easy tricks. (Lane, M. E., chaps. xx.)
14 Lit. “laughed in his face” which has not the unpleasant meaning it bears in English.
15 Arab. “Abu riyáh”=a kind of child’s toy. It is our “bull-roarer” well known in Australia and parts of Africa.
16 The people of the region south of the Caspian which is called “Sea of Daylam.” It has a long history; for which see D’Herbelot, s.v. “Dilem.”
17 Coptic convents in Egypt still affect these drawbridges over the keep-moat.
18 Koran iv., xxii. etc., meaning it is lawful to marry women taken in war after the necessary purification although their husbands be still living. This is not permitted with a free woman who is a True Believer. I have noted that the only concubine slave-girl mentioned in the Koran are these “captives possessed by the right hand.”
19 The Amazonian dame is a favourite in folk-lore and is an ornament to poetry from the Iliad to our modern day. Such heroines, apparently unknown to the Pagan Arabs, were common in the early ages of Al–Islam as Ockley and Gibbon prove, and that the race is not extinct may be seen in my Pilgrimage (iii. 55) where the sister of Ibn Rumi resolved to take blood revenge for her brother.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Nazarene damsel said to Sharrkan (and he listening impatiently enow), “Verily if Sharrkan fell into my hands, I would go forth to him in the habit of a man and drag him from his saddle seat and make him my captive and lay him in bilboes,” pride and passion and knightly jealousy took possession of him and he desired to discover and declare himself and to lay on load; but her loveliness restrained him and he began repeating,
“An faulty of one fault the Beauty prove,
Her charms a thousand advocates shall move.”
So she went up and Sharrkan after her; and, when he saw the maiden’s back and hinder cheeks that clashed against each other, like rollers in the rolling sea, he extemporised these couplets:-
“For her sins is a pleader that brow,
And all hearts its fair pleading must bow:
When I saw it I cried, “To night
The moon at its fullest doth show;
Tho’ Balkis’ own Ifrit1 try a bout,
Spite his force she would deal him a throw.”
The two fared on till they reached a gate over which rose a marble archway. This she opened and ushered Sharrkan into a long vestibule, vaulted with ten connected arches, from each of which hung a crystal lamp glistening like a spark of fire. The handmaids met her at the further end bearing wax candles of goodly perfume, and wearing on their heads golden fillets crusted with all manner bezel gems,2 and went on before her (Sharrkan still following), till they reached the inner convent. There the Moslem saw couches and sofas ranged all around, one opposite the other and all over hung with curtains flowered in gold. The monastery floor was paved with every kind of vari coloured marbles and mosaic work, and in the midst stood a basin that held four and twenty jetting fountains of gold, whence the water ran like molten silver; whilst at the upper end stood a throne spread with silks fit only for Kings. Then said the damsel, “Ascend, O my lord, this throne.” So he went up to it and sat down and she withdrew to remain absent for some time. Sharrkan asked of her from one of the servants who answered him, “She hath gone to her dormitory; but we will serve thee even as she ordered.” So they set before him viands of rare varieties, and he ate his sufficiency, when they brought him a basin of gold and an ewer of silver, and he washed his hands. Then his thoughts reverted to his army, knowing not what had befallen it in his absence and calling to mind also how he had forgotten his father’s injunctions: so he was troubled about his case, repenting of what he had done till the dawn broke and the day appeared; when he lamented and sighed and became drowned in sea of sadness and repeated,
“I am not lost to prudence, but indeed
Here I’m bewildered, what shall be my rede?
Would any aid me in mine ails of love,
By my own might and sleight would I be free’d:
But ah! my heart is lost and passion-shent:
To none save Allah can I trust my need!”
When he ended his verse behold, there came up to him a rare show and a fair, more than twenty maidens like crescents encompassing the young lady, who shone in their midst as the full moon among the constellations guarding and girding her. She was clad in brocades befitting Kings; her breasts were like twin pomegranates, a woven zone set with all kinds of jewels tightly clasped her waist which expanded below into jutting hips; and her hinder cheeks stood out as a mound of crystal3 supporting a silvern shaft. When Sharrkan looked at her his wits went nigh to fly away from him with delight; and he forgot army and Wazir as he gazed on her fair head decked and dight with a net work of pearls set off by divers sorts of gems. Handmaids on her right and handmaids on her left bore her train, as she paced with dainty graceful gait in all the pride of seemlihead. He sprang to his feet seeing such beauty and loveliness, and cried aloud, “Beware and beware of that zone rarely fair!” and broke out into these couplets,
“With heavy back parts, high breasts delicate,
And lissome form that sways with swimming gait
She deftly hides love longing in her breast;
But I may never hide its ban and bate
While hosts of followers her steps precede,4
Like pearls now necklaced and now separate.”
She gazed upon him for a long time and considered him till she was assured of him, when she came up to him and said, “In very sooth the place is honoured and illumined by thee, O Sharrkan! How sped thy night, O hero, after we went away and left thee?”; adding, “Verily lying is a vile thing and a shameful, especially in great Kings! and thou art Crown Prince Sharrkan, son and heir of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman; so henceforth make no secret of thy rank and condition, nor let me hear aught from thee but the truth; for leasing bequeatheth hate and despite. And as thou art pierced by the shaft of Fate, be resignation thine and abide content to wait.” When he heard her words he saw that artifice availed him naught and he acknowledged the truth, saying, “I am Sharrkan, bin Omar bin al-Nu’uman, whom fortune hath afflicted and cast into this place; so whatso thou willest, do it in my case!” She hung her head groundwards a long while, then turned to him and said, “Be of good cheer and let thine eyes be cool and clear;5 for thou art the guest of my hospitality, and bread and salt hath made a tie between me and thee; wherefore thou art in my ward and under my safeguard. Have no fear for, by the truth of the Messiah, if all on earth sought to do thee hurt they should not come at thee, till life had left my body for thy sake: indeed thou art now under the charge of the Messiah and of me.” Hereat she sat her down by his side and fell to playing with him, till his alarm subsided and he knew that had she desired to slay him, she would have done so during the past night. Presently she bespoke in the Grecian tongue one of her slave girls, who went away and soon came back bringing a beaker and a tray of food; but Sharrkan abstained from eating and said to himself, “Haply she hath put somewhat in this meat.” She knew what was in his thought; so she turned to him and said, “By the truth of the Messiah, the case is not on such wise, nor is there aught in this meat of what thou suspectest! Had my mind been set on slaying thee, I had slain thee ere now.” Then she walked up to the tray and ate of every dish a mouthful; where upon Sharrkan came forward and ate too. She was pleased at this and both ate till they were satisfied. They washed their hands and after that she rose and ordered a handmaid to bring perfumes and herbs of sweet savour, wines of all colours and kinds and a wine-service with vessels of gold, silver and crystal. She filled a first goblet and drank it off before offering it to him, even as she had done with the food: then she crowned a second and handed it to him. He drank and she said to him, “O Moslem, see how thou art here in all solace and delight of life!” And she ceased not to drink and ply him with drink, till he took leave of his wits, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 And Solomon said, “O nobles, which of you will bring me her throne?” A terrible genius (i.e. an If rit of the Jinn named Dhakwan or the notorious Sakhr) said, “ I will bring it unto thee before thou arise from thy seat (of justice); for I am able to perform it, and may be trusted” (Koran, xxvii. 38–39). Balkís or Bilkís (says the Durrat al-Ghawwás) daughter of Hozád bin Sharhabíl, twenty-second in the list of the rulers of Al — Yaman, according to some murdered her husband, and became, by Moslem ignorance, the Biblical “ Queen of Sheba.” The Abyssinians transfer her from Arabian Saba to Ethiopia and make her the mother by Solomon of Menelek, their proto-monarch; thus claiming for their royalties an antiquity compared with which all reigning houses in the world are of yesterday. The dates of the Tabábi’ah or Tobbas prove that the Bilkis of history ruled Al–Yaman in the early Christian era.
2 Arab. “Fass,” fiss or fuss; the gem set in a ring; also applied to a hillock rounded en cabochon. In The Nights it is used to signify “a fine gem.”
3 This prominence of the glutæi muscles is always insisted upon, because it is supposed to promise well in a bed-fellow. In Somali land where the people are sub — steatopygous, a rich young man, who can afford such luxury, will have the girls drawn up in line and choose her to wife who projects furthest behind
4 The “bull” is only half mine.
5 A favourite Arab phrase, the “hot eye” is one full of tears.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel ceased not to drink and ply Sharrkan with drink till he took leave of his wits, for the wine and the intoxication of love he bore her. Presently she said to the slave girl, “O Marjanah1! bring us some instruments of music!” “To hear is to obey,” said the hand maid and going out, returned in the twinkling of an eye with a Damascus lute,2 a Persian harp, a Tartar pipe, and an Egyptian dulcimer. The young lady took the lute and, after tuning each several string, began in gentle undersong to sing, softer than zephyr’s wing and sweeter than Tasmin3 spring, with heart safe and secure from everything the couplets following,
“Allah assain those eyne! What streams of blood they shed!
How many an arrowy glance those lids of thine have sped.
I love all lovers who to lovers show them cure;
’Twere wrong to rue the love in wrong head born and bred:
Haply fall hapless eye for thee no sleeping kens!
Heaven help the hapless heart by force of thee misled!
Thou doomest me to death who art my king, and I
Ransom with life the deemster who would doom me dead.”
Thereupon each and every of the maidens rose up and taking an instrument, played and recited couplets in the Roumi tongue; then their mistress sang also and seeing Sharrkan in ecstasies asked him, “O Moslem, dost thou understand what I say?”; and he answered, “Nay, my ecstasy cometh from the beauty of thy finger sips.” She laughed and continued, “If I sing to thee in Arabic what wouldst thou do?” “I should no longer,” quoth he, “be master of my senses.” Then she took an instrument and, changing the measure, began singing these verses,
“The smack of parting’s myrrh to me,
How, then, bear patience’ aloë?
I’m girt by ills in trinity
Severance, distance, cruelty!
My freedom stole that fairest she,
And parting irks me bitterly.”
When she ended her verse, she looked at Sharrkan and found him lost to existence, and he lay for a while stretched at full length and prone among the maidens.4 Then he revived and, remembering the songs, again inclined to mirth and merriment; and the twain returned to their wine and wassail, and continued their playing and toying, their pastime and pleasure till day ceased illuminating and night drooped her wing. Then the damsel went off to her dormitory and when Sharrkan asked after her they answered, “She is gone to her sleeping chamber,” whereto he rejoined, “Under Allah’s ward and His good guard!” As soon as it was morning, a handmaid came to him and said to him, “My mistress biddeth thee to her.” So he rose and followed her and, as he drew near her lodging, the damsels welcomed him with smitten tabrets and songs of greeting, and led him through a great door of ivory studded with pearls and jewels. Thence they passed with him into a tall and spacious hall, at the upper end of which was a wide dais carpeted with all kinds of silks, and round it open lattices commanding a view of trees and streams. About the saloon were figures carved in human form, and fashioned on such wise that the air passed through them and set in motion musical instruments within, so that the beholder would fancy they spoke.5 Here sat the young lady, looking at the figures; but when she saw Sharrkan, she sprang to her feet and, taking him by the hand, made him sit down by her side, and asked him how he had passed the night. He blessed her and the two sat talking awhile till she asked him, “Knowest thou aught touching lovers and slaves of love?”; and he answered “Yes! I wot somewhat in verse on that matter.” “Let me hear it,” quoth she, so he began quoting,
“Pleasure and health, good cheer, good appetite
To Azzah, freest with our name and fame!
By Allah! would I near her off she flies
At tangent, granting less the more I claim:
I dote on Azzah, but when clear I off
My rivals, clears me too that dearest dame;
Like wandering wight that chose for shade a cloud
Which, ere siesta done, thin air became.”
When she heard this she said, “Verily Al–Kuthayyir6 was conspicuous for sweet speech and chaste, and he was superlative in his praise of Azzah when he sang” (and she began to recite),
“Did Azzah deal behest to Sun o’ noon,
The judge had judged her beauty’s bestest boon;
And girls who come to me and carp at her,
God make their rosy cheeks her sandal-shoon!
And indeed,” quoth she, “’twas said that Azzah boasted exceeding beauty and loveliness.” Then she asked Sharrkan saying, “O Prince, cost thou know aught of Jamil’s7 verses to Buthaynah? if so repeat to us somewhat of them;” and he answered, “Yes, I know them better than any;” whereupon he began repeating these couplets,
“Jamil, in Holy war go fight!” to me they say:
What war save fight for fair ones would I e’er essay?
To me their every word and work are mere delight,
And martyrs crepe I all they slay in fight and fray:
An ask I, ‘O Buthaynah! what’s this love, I pray,
Which eats my heart?’ quoth she ‘ ’Twill stay for ever and aye!’
And when I cry, ‘Of wits return some small display
For daily use,’ quoth she, ‘Far, far ’tis fled away!
Thou seekst my death; naught else thy will can satisfy
While I no goal espy save thee and thee alway.’”
“Thou hast spoken right well,” said she, “O King’s son, and Jamil also spoke excellently well. But what would Buthaynah have done with him that he saith in his hemistich,
‘Thou seekst my death; naught else thy will can satisfy?’”
“O my lady,” quoth Sharrkan, “she willed to do him what thou willest to do with me, and even that will not satisfy thee.” She laughed at his opportune reply and they ceased not carousing till Day put out her light and Night came in darkness dight. Then she rose and went to her dormitory and slept, while Sharrkan slept in his place till morning dawned. As soon as he awoke, the hand maids came to him with tabrets and other instruments of mirth and merriment, as wont; and, kissing the ground between his hands, said to him, “Bismillah! in Allah’s name be so kind as to come8: our mistress biddeth thee to her presence!” So he rose and accompanied the slave girls who surrounded him, playing on tabrets and other instruments of music, till they passed from that saloon into another and a yet more spacious hall, decorated with pictured likenesses and figures of birds and beasts, passing all description. Sharrkan marvelled at the art and artifice of the place and began reciting,
“He plucks fruits of her necklace in rivalry,
And her breast-pearls that bedded in gold mine lie.
Pure water on silvern bars is her brow,
And her cheeks show roses with rubies vie:
Meseems in her eyne that the violet’s hue
Lies purpling set in the Ithmid’s9 dye.”
When the lady saw Sharrkan, she stood up to him in honour and, taking his hand, seated him by her side and asked, “O son of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, hast thou any cunning in the game of chess?” “Yes,” he answered, “but do not thou with me as said the poet,
‘I speak and longing love upties me and unties me;
Till with her honey dew of inner lip she plies me:
I brought the chess board and my liefest lover plays me
With white and black,10 but black cum white ne’er satisfies me:
’Twas as if King for Castle I were fain to place me
Till wilful loss of game atwixt two queens surprise me:
And if I seek to read intent in eyes that eye me
Oh man! that glance askance with hint of wish defies me.’”
Then she brought the chessboard and played with him; but Sharrkan, instead of looking at her moves, kept gazing at her fair mouth, and putting knight in place of elephant and elephant11 instead of knight. She laughed and said to him, “If thy play be after this fashion, thou knowest naught of the game.” “This is only our first,” replied he, “judge not by this bout.” When she beat him he replaced the pieces in position and played again with her; but she beat him a second time, a third, a fourth and a fifth. So she turned to him and said, “Thou art beaten in everything;” and he replied, “O my lady, how should one playing with the like of thee avoid being beaten?” Then she bade bring food, and they ate and washed their hands; after which the wine was set before them and they drank. Presently, she took the dulcimer, for her hand was cunning in smiting it, and she began repeating to an accompaniment these couplets,
“Twixt the close tied and open wide no medium Fortune knoweth,
Now ebb and flow then flow and ebb this wise her likeness showeth.
Then drink her wine the syne she’s thine and smiling thou dost find her
Anon she’ll fall and fare away when all thy good forth goeth.”
They ceased not to carouse till nightfall and this day was pleasanter even than the first. When darkness set in, the lady betook her to her dormitory, leaving him alone with the hand maids; so he threw himself on the ground and slept till dawn, when the damsels came to him with tambourines and other instruments according to custom. Seeing them he roused him hastily and sat up; and they carried him to their mistress, who came to meet him and, taking him by the hand, seated him by her side. Then she asked him how he had passed his night, whereat he prayed that her life be prolonged; and she took the lute and sang to it these verses which she improvised,
“Ne’er incline thee to part
Which embitters the heart
E’en the sun when he sets
Shall in pallor depart.”
While they were solacing themselves after this fashion, behold, there arose a great and sudden clamour, and a confused crowd of knights and men rushed in, holding drawn swords that glittered and gleamed in their hands, and cried aloud in the Grecian tongue “Thou hast fallen into our hands, O Sharrkan, so make thee sure of death!” When he heard this, he said to himself, “By Allah, she hath entrapped me and held me in play, till her men should come. These are the Knights with whom she threatened me; but ’tis I who have thrown myself into this strait.” Then he turned towards the young lady to reproach her, but saw that she had changed colour and her face was pale; and she sprang to her feet and asked the crowd, “Who are ye?” “O most gracious Princess and peerless onion pearl,” answered the leading Knight, “dost thou weet who is yon man by thy side?” “Not I,” she replied, “who may he be?” Quoth the Patrician, “This is of towns the highwayman! This is he who rideth in the horseman’s van! This is Sharrkan, son of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman! This is he that forceth fortalice and penetrateth every impregnable place! The news of him reached King Hardub, thy father, by report of the ancient dame Zat al-Dawahi; and thy sire, our sovereign, hath made sure that thou hast rendered good service to the army of the Greeks by taking captive this ominous lion.” When she heard this, she looked at the Knight and asked him, “What be thy name?” and he answered, “I am Másúrah, son of thy slave Mausúrah bin Káshardah, Knight of Knights.” “And how?” quoth she, “durst thou enter my presence without leave?” Quoth he, “O my lady, when I came to the gate, none forbade me, neither chamberlain nor porter, but all the door keepers rose and forewent us as of wont; although, when others come, they leave them standing at the gate while they ask permission to admit them. But this is not a time for long talking, when the King is expecting our return with this Prince, the scorpion sting12 of the Islamitic host, that he may kill him and drive back his men whither they came, without the bane of battling with them.” “These words be ill words,” rejoined the Princess, “and Dame Zat al-Dawahi lied, avouching an idle thing and a vain, whereof she weeteth not the truth; for by the virtue of the Messiah, this man who is with me is not Sharrkan, nor is he a captive, but a stranger who came to us seeking our hospitality, and I made him my guest. So even were we assured that this be Sharrkan and were it proved to us that it is he beyond a doubt, I say it would ill befit mine honour that I should deliver into your hands one who hath entered under my protection. So make me not a traitor to my guest and a disgrace among men; but return to the King, my father, and kiss the ground before him, and inform him that the case is contrariwise to the report of the Lady Zat al-Dawahi.” “O Abrízah,” replied Masurah, the Knight, “I cannot return to the King’s majesty without his debtor and enemy.” Quoth she (and indeed she had waxed very wroth). “Out on thee! Return to him with my answer, and no blame shall befal thee!” Quoth Masurah, “I will not return without him.” Thereupon her colour changed and she exclaimed, “Exceed not in talk and vain words; for verily this man had not come in to us, were he not assured that he could of himself and single handed make head against an hundred riders; and if I said to him, ‘Thou art Sharrkan, son of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman,’ he would answer, ‘Yes.’ But ’tis not of your competence to let or hinder him; for if you do so, he will not turn back from you till he hath slain all that are in this place. Behold, here he is by my side, and I will bring him before you sword and targe in hand.” “Albeit I were safe from thy wrath,” answered Masurah the Knight, “I am not safe from that of thy father, and when I see him, I shall sign to the Knights to take him captive, and we will carry him to the King bound and in abject sort.” When she heard this, she said, “The matter shall not pass thus, for ‘twould be blazoning mere folly. This man is but one and ye are an hundred Knights: so if you would attack him come out against him, one after one, that it may appear to the King which is the valiant amongst you.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e., “Coral,” coral branch, a favourite name for a slave-girl, especially a negress. It is the older “Morgiana.” I do not see why Preston in Al–Haríni’s “Makamah (Séance) of Singar” renders it pearls, because Golius gives “small pearls,” when it is evidently “coral.” Richardson (Dissert. xlviii.) seems to me justified in finding the Pari (fairy) Marjan of heroic Persian history reflected in the Fairy Morgain who earned off King Arthur after the battle of Camelon.
2 Arab. “‘Ud Jalaki”=Jalak or Jalik being a poetical and almost obsolete name of Damascus.
3 The fountain in Paradise whose water shall be drunk with “pure” wine mixed and sealed with musk (for clay). It is so called because it comes from the “Sanam” (Sanima, to be high) boss or highest ridge of the Moslem Heaven (Koran lv. 78 and lxxxiii. 27). Mr. Rodwell says “it is conveyed to the highest apartments in the Pavilions of Paradise.” (?)
4 This “hysterical” temperament is not rare even amongst the bravest Arabs.
5 An idea evidently derived from the Æolipyla (olla animatoria) the invention of Hero Alexandrinus, which showed that the ancient Egyptians could apply the motive force of steam.
6 Kuthayyir ibn Abi Jumah, a poet and far-famed Ráwí or Tale-reciter, mentioned by Ibn Khallikan he lived at Al–Medinah and sang the attractions of one Azzah, hence his soubriquet Sáhib (lover of) Azzah. As he died in A. H. 105 (=726), his presence here is a gross anachronism the imaginary Sharrkan flourished before the Caliphate of Abd al-Malik bin Marwán A. H. 65–86.
7 Jamíl bin Ma’amar, a poet and lover contemporary with Al–Kuthayrir.
8 Arab. “Tafazzal,” a word of frequent use in conversation=“favour me,” etc.
9 The word has a long history. From the Gr. or is the Lat. stibium; while the Low Latin “antimonium” and the Span. Althimod are by metathesis for Al–Ithmid. The dictionaries define the substance as a stone from which antimony is prepared, but the Arabs understand a semi-mythical mineral of yellow colour which enters into the veins of the eyes and gives them Iynx-like vision. The famous Anz nicknamed Zarká (the blue eyed) of Yamámah (Province) used it; and, according to some, invented Kohl. When her (protohistoric) tribe Jadis had destroyed all the rival race of Tasm, except Ribáh ibn Murrah; the sole survivor fled to the Tobba of Al–Yaman, who sent a host to avenge him. The king commanded his Himyarites to cut tree-boughs and use them as screens (again Birnam wood). Zarká from her Utum, or peel-tower, saw the army three marches off and cried, “O folk, either trees or Himyar are coming upon you!” adding, in Rajaz verse:—
I swear by Allah that trees creep onward, or that Himyar beareth somewhat which he draweth along!
She then saw a man mending his sandal. But Jadis disbelieved; Cassandra was slain and, when her eyes were cut out the vessels were found full of Ithmid. Hence Al–Mutanabbi sang:
“Sharper-sighted than Zarká of Jau” (Yamámah).
See C. de Perceval i. 101; Arab. Prov. i. 192; and Chenery p. 381. (The Assemblies of Al–Hariri; London, Williams and Norgate, 1867). I have made many enquiries into the true nature of Ithmid and failed to learn anything: on the Upper Nile the word is=Kohl.
10 The general colour of chessmen in the East, where the game is played on a cloth more often than a board.
11 Arab. “Al-fil,” the elephant=the French fol or fou and our bishop. I have derived “elephant” from Píl (old Persian, Sansk. Pilu) and Arab. Fil, with the article Al–Fil, whence the Greek {Greek text} the suffix — as being devoted to barbarous words as Obod-as (Al Ubayd), Aretas (Al-Háris), etc. Mr. Isaac Taylor (The Alphabet i. 169), preserves the old absurdity of “eleph-ant or ox-like (!) beast of Africa.” Prof. Sayce finds the word al-ab (two distinct characters) in line 3, above the figure of an (Indian) elephant, on the black obelisk of Nimrod Mound, and suggests an Assyrian derivation.
12 Arab. “Shaukat” which may also mean the “pride” or “mainstay” (of the army).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Princess Abrizah said to the Knight, “This man is but one, and ye are an hundred: so if ye would attack him, come out against him, one after one, that it may appear to the King which is the valiant.” Quoth Masurah, the Knight, “By the truth of the Messiah, thou sayest sooth, and none but I shall sally out against him first.” Quoth she, “Wait till I go to him and acquaint him with the case and hear what answer he will make. If he consent, ’tis well; but if he refuse, ye shall on no wise come to him, for I and my hand maids and whosoever is in the convent will be his ransom.” So she went to Sharrkan and told him the news, whereat he smiled and knew that she had not informed any of the Emirs; but that tidings of him had been bruited and blazed abroad, till the report reached the King, against her wish and intent. So he again began reproaching himself and said, “How came I to adventure and play with my life by coming to the country of the Greeks?” But hearing the young lady’s proposal he said to her, “Indeed their onset, one after one, would be overburdensome to them. Will they not come out against me, ten by ten?” “That would be villainy,” said she; “Let one have at one.” When he heard this, he sprang to his feet and made for them with his sword and battle gear; and Masurah, the Knight, also sprang up and bore down upon him. Sharrkan met him like a lion and delivered a shoulder cut1 which clove him to the middle, and the blade came out gleaming and glittering from his back and bowels. When the lady beheld that swashingblow, Sharrkan’s might was magnified in her sight and she knew that when she overthrew him in the wrestle it was not by her strength but by her beauty and loveliness. So she turned to the Knights and said, “Take wreak for your chief!” Thereupon out came the slain man’s brother, a fierce and furious Knight, and rushed upon Sharrkan, who delayed not, but smote him also with the shoulder cut and the sword came out glittering from his vitals. Then cried the Princess, “O ye servants of the Messiah, avenge your comrade!” So they ceased not charging down upon him, one after one; and Sharrkan also ceased not playing upon them with the blade, till he had slain fifty Knights, the lady looking on the while. And Allah cast a panic into the hearts of the survivors, so that they held back and dared not meet him in the duello, but fell upon him in a body; and he laid on load with heart firmer than a rock, and smote them and trod them down like straw under the threshing sled,2 till he had driven sense and soul out of them. Then the Princess called aloud to her damsels, saying, “Who is left in the convent?”; and they replied, “None but the gate keepers;” whereupon she went up to Sharrkan and took him to her bosom, he doing the same, and they returned to the palace, after he had made an end of the melee. Now there remained a few of the Knights hiding from him in the cells of the monastery, and when the Princess saw this she rose from Sharrkan’s side and left him for a while, but presently came back clad in closely meshed coat of ring mail and holding in her hand a fine Indian scymitar. And she said, “Now by the truth of the Messiah, I will not be a niggard of myself for my guest; nor will I abandon him though for this I abide a reproach and a by word in the land of the Greeks.” Then she took reckoning of the dead and found that he had slain fourscore of the Knights, and other twenty had taken to flight.3 When she saw what work he had made with them she said to him, “Allah bless thee, O Sharrkan! The Cavaliers may well glory in the like of thee.” Then he rose and wiping his blade clean of the blood of the slain began reciting these couplets,
“How oft in the mellay I’ve cleft the array,
And given their bravest to lions a prey:
Ask of me and of them when I proved me prow
O’er creation, on days of the foray and fray:
When I left in the onslaught their lions to lie
On the sands of the low lands4 in fieriest day.”
When he ended his verse, the Princess came up to him with smiles and kissed his hand; then she doffed her hauberk and he said to her, “O lady mine, wherefore didst thou don that coat of mail and bare thy brand?” “To guard thee against these caitiffs,”5 she replied. Then she summoned the gate keepers and asked them, “How came ye to admit the King’s Knights into my dwelling without leave of me?”; and they answered, “O Princess, it is not our custom to ask leave of thee for the King’s messengers, and especially for the chief of his Knights.” Quoth she, “I think ye were minded only to disgrace me and murder my guest;” and bade Sharrkan smite their necks. He did so and she cried to the rest of her servants, “Of a truth, they deserved even more than that!” Then turning to Sharrkan, she said to him, “Now that there hath become manifest to thee what was concealed, thou shalt be made acquainted with my history. Know, then, that I am the daughter of King Hardub of Roum; my name is Abrizah and the ancient dame, yclept Zat al-Dawahi, is my grandmother by the sword side. She it certainly is who told my father of thee, and as surely she will compass a sleight to slay me, more by token as thou hast slain my father’s chivalry and it is noised abroad that I have separated myself from the Nazarenes and have become no better than I should be with the Moslems. Wherefore it were wiser that I leave this dwelling while Zat al-Dawahi is on my track; but I require of thee the like kindness and courtesy I have shown thee, for enmity will presently befal between me and my father on thine account. So do not thou neglect to do aught that I shall say to thee, remembering all this betided me not save by reason of thee.” Hearing her words, Sharrkan joyed greatly; his breast broadened and his wits flew from him for delight, and he said, “By Allah, none shall come at thee, while life is in my bosom! But hast thou patience to bear parting from thy parents and thy people?” “Even so,” she answered; and Sharrkan swore to her and the two plighted their troth. Then said she, “Now is my heart at ease; but there remaineth one other condition for thee.” “What is it?” asked he and she answered, “It is that thou return with thy host to thine own country.” Quoth he, “O lady mine, my father, King Omar bin al — Nu’uman, sent me to wage war upon thy sire, on account of the treasure he plundered from the King of Constantinople, and amongst the rest three great jewels, noted givers of good fortune.” Quoth she, “Cheer thy heart and clear thine eyes: I will tell thee the whole of the tale and the cause of our feud with the King of Constantinople. Know that we have a yearly festival, hight the Convent Feast, whereat Kings from all quarters and the noblest women are wont to congregate; thither also come merchants and traders with their wives and families, and the visitors abide there seven days. I was wont to be one of them; but, when there befel enmity between us, my father forbade me to be present at the festival for the space of seven years. One year, it chanced that amongst the daughters of the great who resorted to the patron, as was their custom, came a daughter of the King of Constantinople, a beautiful girl called Sophia. They tarried at the monastery six days and on the seventh the folk went their ways;6 but Sophia said, ‘I will not return to Constantinople save by water.’ So they equipped for her a ship in which she embarked with her suite; and making sail they put out to sea; but as they were voyaging behold, a contrary wind caught them and drove the vessel from her course till, as Fate and Fortune would have it, she fell in with a Nazarene craft from the Camphor Island7 carrying a crew of five hundred armed Franks, who had been cruising about a long time. When they sighted the sails of the ship, wherein Sophia and her women were, they gave chase in all haste and in less than an hour they came up with her, then they laid the grappling irons aboard her and captured her. Then taking her in tow they made all sail for their own island and were but a little distant from it when the wind veered round and, splitting their sails, drove them on to a shoal which lies off our coast. Thereupon we sallied forth and, looking on them as spoil driven to us by Fate,8 boarded and took them; and, slaying the men, made prize of the wreck, wherein we found the treasures and rarities in question and forty maidens, amongst whom was the King’s daughter, Sophia. After the capture we carried the Princess and her women to my father, not knowing her to be a daughter of King Afridun of Constantinople; and he chose out for himself ten including her; and divided the rest among his dependents. Presently he set apart five damsels, amongst whom was the King s daughter, and sent them to thy father, King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, together with other gifts, such as broadcloth9 and woollen stuffs and Grecian silks. Thy father accepted them and chose out from amongst the five girls Sophia, daughter of King Afridun; nor did we hear more of her till the beginning of this year, when her father wrote to my father in words unfitting for me to repeat, rebuking him with menaces and saying to him: Two years ago, you plundered a ship of ours which had been seized by a band of Frankish pirates in which was my daughter, Sophia, attended by her maidens numbering some threescore. Yet ye informed me not thereof by messenger or otherwise; nor could I make the matter public, lest reproach befal me amongst the Kings, by reason of my daughter’s honour. So I concealed my case till this year, when I wrote to certain Frankish corsairs and sought news of my daughter from the Kings of the Isles. They replied, ‘By Allah we carried her not forth of thy realm; but we have heard that King Hardub rescued her from certain pirates. And they told me the whole tale.’ Then he added in the writing which he writ to my father: ‘Except you wish to be at feud with me and design to disgrace me and dishonour my daughter, you will, the instant my letter reacheth you, send my daughter back to me. But if you slight my letter and disobey my commandment, I will assuredly make you full return for your foul dealing and the baseness of your practices.’10 When my father read this letter and understood the contents,11 it vexed him and he regretted not having known that Sophia, King Afridun’s daughter, was among the captured damsels, that he might have sent her back to her sire; and he was perplexed about the case because, after so long a time, he could not send to King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and demand her back from him, especially as he had lately heard that Heaven had granted him boon of babe by this Sophia. So when we pondered that truth, we knew that this letter was none other than a grievous calamity; and my father found nothing for it but to write an answer to King Afridun, making his excuses and swearing to him by strong oaths that he knew not his daughter to be among the bevy of damsels in the ship and setting forth how he had sent her to King Omar bin al Nu’uman, who had gotten the blessing of issue by her. When my father’s reply reached King Afridun he rose up and sat down,12 and roared and foamed at the mouth crying:—‘What! shall he take captive my daughter and even her with slave girls and pass her on from hand to hand sending her for a gift to Kings, and they lie with her without marriage contract? By the Messiah and the true Faith,’ said he, ‘I will not desist till I have taken my blood vengeance for this and have wiped out my shame; and indeed I will do a deed which the chroniclers shall chronicle after me!’ So he bided his time till he devised a device and laid notable toils and snares, when he sent an embassy to thy father, King Omar, to tell him that which thou hast heard: accordingly thy father equipped thee and an army with thee and sent thee to King Afridun, whose object is to seize thee and thine army to boot. As for the three jewels whereof he told thy father when asking his aid, there was not one soothfast word in that matter, for they were with Sophia, his daughter; and my father took them from her, when he got possession of her and of her maidens, and gave them to me in free gift, and they are now with me. So go thou to thy host and turn them back ere they be led deep into, and shut in by, the land of the bevy of damsels in the ship and setting forth the Franks and the country of the Greeks; for as soon as you have come far enough into their interior, they will stop the roads upon you and there will be no escape for you till the Day of retribution and retaliation. I know that thy troops are still halting where thou leftest them, because thou didst order a three days’ rest; withal they have missed thee all this time and they wot not what to do.” When Sharrkan heard her words, he was absent awhile in thought; then he kissed Princess Abrizah’s hand and said, “Praise be to Allah who hath bestowed thee on me and appointed thee to be the cause of my salvation and the salvation of whoso is with me! But ’tis grievous to me to part from thee and I know not what will become of thee after my departure.” “Go now to thine army,” she replied, “and turn them back, while ye are yet near your own country. If the envoys be still with them, lay hands on them and keep them, that the case may be made manifest to you; and, after three days, I will be with you all and we will enter Baghdad together.” As he turned to depart she said, “Forget not the compact which is between me and thee,” then she rose to bid13 him farewell and embrace him and quench the fire of desire, so she took leave of him and, throwing her arms round his neck, wept with exceeding weeping, and repeated these verses,
“I bade adieu, my right hand wiped my tears away,
The while my left hand held her in a close embrace:
‘Fearest thou naught,’ quoth she, ‘of shame?’ I answered ‘Nay,
The lover’s parting day is lover’s worst disgrace.’”
Then Sharrkan left her and walked down from the convent. They brought his steed, so he mounted and rode down stream to the drawbridge which he crossed and presently threaded the woodland paths and passed into the open meadow. As soon as he was clear of the trees he was aware of horsemen which made him stand on the alert, and he bared his brand and rode cautiously, but as they drew near and exchanged curious looks he recognized them and behold, it was the Wazir Dandan and two of his Emirs. When they saw him and knew him, they dismounted and saluting him, asked the reason of his absence; whereupon he told them all that had passed between him and Princess Abrizah from first to last. The Wazir returned thanks to Almighty Allah for his safety and said,14 “Let us at once leave these lands; for the envoys who came with us are gone to inform the King of our approach, and haply he will hasten to fall on us and take us prisoners.” So Sharrkan cried to his men to saddle and mount, which they did and, setting out at once, they stinted not faring till they reached the sole of the valley wherein the host lay. The Ambassadors meanwhile had reported Sharrkan’s approach to their King, who forthright equipped a host to lay hold of him and those with him. But Sharrkan, escorted by the Wazir Dandan and the two Emirs, had no sooner sighted the army, than he raised the cry “March! March!” They took horse on the instant and fared through the first day and second and third day, nor did they cease faring for five days; at the end of which time they alighted in a well wooded valley, where they rested awhile. Then they again set out and stayed not riding for five and twenty days which placed them on the frontiers of their own country. Here, deeming themselves safe, they halted to rest; and the country people came out to them with guest gifts for the men and provender and forage for the beasts. They tarried there two days after which, as all would be making for their homes, Sharrkan put the Wazir Dandan in command, bidding him lead the host back to Baghdad. But he himself remained behind with an hundred riders, till the rest of the army had made one day’s march: then he called “To horse!” and mounted with his hundred men. They rode on two parasangs’15 space till they arrived at a gorge between two mountains and lo! there arose before them a dark cloud of sand and dust. So they checked their steeds awhile till the dust opened and lifted, discovering beneath it an hundred cavaliers, lion faced and in mail coats cased. As soon as they drew within earshot of Sharrkan and his meiny they cried out to them, saying, “By the virtue of John and Mary, we have won to our wish! We have been following you by forced marches, night and day, till we forewent you to this place. So dismount and lay down your arms and yield yourselves, that we may grant you your lives.” When Sharrkan heard this, his eyes stood out from his head and his cheeks flushed red and he said ‘How is it, O. Nazarene dogs, ye dare enter our country and overmatch our land? And doth not this suffice you, but ye must adventure yourselves and address us in such unseemly speech? Do you think to escape out of our hands and return to your country?” Then he shouted to his hundred horsemen, “Up and at these hounds, for they even you in number!” So saying, he bared his sabre and bore down on them, he and his, but the Franks met them with hearts firmer than rocks, and wight dashed against wight, and knight dashed upon knight, and hot waxed the fight, and sore was the affright, and nor parley nor cries of quarter helped their plight; and they stinted not to charge and to smite, right hand meeting right, nor to hack and hew with blades bright white, till day turned to night and gloom oppressed the sight. Then they drew apart and Sharrkan mustered his men and found none wounded save four only, who showed hurts but not death hurts. Said he to them, “By Allah, my life long have I waded in the clashing sea of fight and I have met many a gallant sprite, but none so unfrightened of the sword that smites and the shock of men that affrights like these valiant Knights!” “Know, O King,” said they, that there is among them a Frankish cavalier who is their leader and, indeed, he is a man of valour and fatal is his spear thrust: but, by Allah, he spares us great and small; for whoso falls into his hands he lets him go and forbears to slay him. By Allah, had he willed he had killed us all.” Sharrkan was astounded when he heard what the Knight had done and such high report of him, so he said, “When the morn shall morrow, we will draw out and defy them, for we are an hundred to their hundred; and we will seek aid against them from the Lord of the Heavens.” So they rested that night in such intent; whilst the Franks gathered round their Captain and said, “Verily this day we did not win our will of these;” and he replied, “At early dawn when the morrow shall morn, we will draw out and challenge them, one after one.” They also rested in that mind, and both camps kept guard until Almighty Allah sent the light of day dawn. Thereupon King Sharrkan and his hundred riders took horse and rode forth to the plain, where they found the Franks ranged in line of battle; and Sharrkan said to his followers, “Our foes have determined like ourselves to do their devoir; so up and at them and lay on load.” Then came forth an Herald of the Franks and cried out, saying, “Let there be no general engagement betwixt us this day, save by the duello, a champion of yours against a champion of ours.” Whereupon one of Sharrkan’s riders dashed out from the ranks and crave between the two lines crying, “Ho! who is for smiting? Let no dastard engage me this day nor niderling!” Hardly had he made an end of his vaunt, when there sallied forth to him a Frankish cavalier, armed cap-à-pie and clad in a surcoat of gold stuff, riding on a grey white steed,16 and he had no hair on his cheeks. He urged his charger on to the midst of the battle plain and the two fell to derring do of cut and thrust, but it was not long before the Frank foined the Moslem with the lance point; and, toppling him from his steed, took him prisoner and led him off crestfallen. His folk rejoiced in their comrade and, forbidding him to go out again to the field, sent forth another, to whom sallied out another Moslem, brother to the captive, and offered him battle. The two fell to, either against other, and fought for a little while, till the Frank bore down upon the Moslem and, falsing him with a feint, tumbled him by a thrust of the lance heel from his destrier and took him prisoner. After this fashion the Moslems ceased not dashing forwards, one after one, and the Franks to unhorse them and take them captive, till day departed and the night with darkness upstarted. Now they had captured of the Moslems twenty cavaliers, and when Sharrken saw this, it was grievous to him and he mustered his men and said to them, “What is this thing that hath befallen us? To — morrow, I myself will go forth to the field and offer singular combat to their chief and learn what is the cause of his entering our land and warn him against doing battle with our band. If he persist, we will punish him with death, and if he prove peaceable we will make peace with him.” They righted on this wise till Allah Almighty caused the morn to dawn, when mounted the twain and drew up for battle fain; and Sharrkan was going forth to the plain, but behold, more than one half of the Franks dismounted and remained on foot before one of them who was mounted, till they reached the midst of the battle plain. Sharrken looked at that horseman and lo! he was their chief. He was clad in a surcoat of blue satin and a close ringed mail shirt; his face was as the moon when it rises and no hair was upon his cheeks. He hent in hand an Indian scymitar and he rode a sable steed with a white blaze on brow, like a dirham; and he smote the horse with heel till he stood almost in the midst of the field when, signing to the Moslems, he cried out in fluent Arab speech “Ho, Sharrkan! Ho, son of Omar bin al — Nu’uman! Ho, thou who forcest fortalice and overthrowest cities and countries! up and out to battle bout, and blade single handed wield with one who halves with thee the field! Thou art Prince of thy people and I am Prince of mine; and whoso overcometh his adversary, him let the other’s men obey and come under his sway.” Hardly had he ended his speech, when out came Sharrkan with a heart full of fury, and urging his steed into the midst of the field, closed like a raging lion with the Frank who encountered him with wariness and steadfastness and met him with the meeting of warriors. Then they fell to foining and hewing, and they stinted not of onset and offset, and give and take, as they were two mountains clashing together or two seas together dashing; nor did they cease fighting until day darkened and night starkened. Then they drew apart and each returned to his own party; but as soon as Sharrkan foregathered with his comrades, he said, “Never looked I on the like of this cavalier: he hath one quality I have not yet seen in any and this it is that, when his foemen uncovereth a place for the death blow, he reverseth his weapon and smiteth with the lance-heel! In very deed I know not what will be the issue ‘twixt him and me; but ’tis my wish that we had in our host his like and the like of his men.” Then he went to his rest for the night and, when morning dawned, the Frank came forth and rode down to the mid field, where Sharrkan met him; and they fell to fighting and to wheeling, left and right; and necks were stretched out to see the sight, nor did they stint from strife and sword play and lunge of lance with main and might, till the day turned to night and darkness overwhelmed the light. Then the twain drew asunder and returned each to his own camp, where both related to their comrades what had befallen them in the duello; and at last the Frank said to his men, “Tomorrow shall decide the matter!” So they both passed that night restfully till dawn; and, as soon as it was day, they mounted and each bore down on other and ceased not to fight till half the day was done. Then the Frank bethought him of a ruse; first urging his steed with heel and then checking him with the rein, so that he stumbled and fell with his rider; thereupon Sharrkan threw himself on the foe, and would have smitten him with the sword fearing lest the strife be prolonged, when the Frank cried out to him, “O Sharrkan, champions are not wont to do thus! This is the act of a man accustomed to be beaten by a woman.”17 When Sharrkan heard this, he raised his eyes to the Frank’s face and gazing steadfastly at him, recognized in him Princess Abrizah with whom that pleasant adventure had befallen him in the convent; whereupon he cast brand from hand and, kissing the earth before her, asked her, “What moved thee to a deed like this?”; and she answered, “I desired to prove thy prowess afield and test thy doughtiness in tilting and jousting. These that are with me are my handmaids, and they are all clean maids; yet they have vanquished thy horsemen in fair press and stress of plain; and had not my steed stumbled with me, thou shouldst have seen my might and prowess in combat.” Sharrkan smiled at her speech and said, “Praise be to Allah for safety and for my reunion with thee, O Queen of the age!” Then she cried out to her damsels to loose the twenty captives of Sharrkan’s troop and dismount. They did as she bade and came and kissed the earth before her and Sharrkan who said to them, “It is the like of you that Kings keep in store for the need hour.” Then he signed to his comrades to salute the Princess; so all alighted and kissed the earth before her, for they knew the story. After this, the whole two hundred took horse, and fared on night and day for six days’ space, till they drew near to Baghdad, when they halted and Sharrkan bade Abrizah and her handmaids doff the Frankish garb that was on them — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lit. “smote him on the tendons of his neck.” This is the famous shoulder-cut (Tawash shuh) which, with the leg-cut (Kalam), formed, and still forms, the staple of Eastern attack with the sword.
2 Arab. “Dirás.” Easterns do not thresh with flails. The material is strewed over a round and smoothed floor of dried mud in the open air and threshed by different connivances. In Egypt the favourite is a chair-like machine called “Norag,” running on iron plates and drawn by bulls or cows over the corn. Generally, however, Moslems prefer the old classical, the Tribulum of Virgil and Varro, a slipper-shaped sled of wood garnished on the sole with large-headed iron nails, or sharp fragments of flint or basalt. Thus is made the “Tibn” or straw, the universal hay of the East, which our machines cannot imitate.
3 These numbers appear to be grossly exaggerated, but they were possible in the days of sword and armour: at the battle of Saffayn the Caliph Ali is said to have cut down five hundred and twenty-three men in a single night.
4 Arab. “Bika’á”: hence the “Buka’ah” or Cœlesyria.
5 Richardson in his excellent dictionary (note 103) which modern priggism finds “unscientific “ wonderfully derives this word from Arab. “Khattáf,” a snatcher (i.e. of women), a ravisher. It is an evident corruption of “captivus” through Italian and French
6 These periodical and fair-like visitations to convents are still customary; especially amongst the Christians of Damascus.
7 Camphor being then unknown.
8 The “wrecker” is known all over the world; and not only barbarians hold that ships driven ashore become the property of the shore
9 Arab. “Jokh”: it is not a dictionary word, but the only term in popular use for European broadcloth.
10 The second person plural is used because the writer would involve the subjects of his correspondent in the matter.
11 This part of the phrase, which may seem unnecessary to the European, is perfectly intelligible to all Orientalists. You may read many an Eastern letter and not understand it. Compare Boccacoo iv. 1.
12 i.e. he was greatly agitated
13 In text “Li-ajal a al-Taudi’a,” for the purpose of farewelling, a low Egyptianism; emphatically a “Kalám wáti.” (Pilgrimage thee iii. 330.)
14 In the Mac. Edit. Sharrkan speaks, a clerical error.
15 The Farsakh (Germ. Stunde) a measure of time rather than distance, is an hour’s travel or its equivalent, a league, a meile=three English stat. miles. The word is still used in Persia its true home, but not elsewhere. It is very old, having been determined as a lineal measure of distance by Herodotus (ii. 5 and 6; v. 53), who computes it at 30 furlongs (=furrow-lengths, 8 to the stat. mile). Strabo (xi.) makes it range from 40 to 60 stades (each=606 feet 9 inches), and even now it varies between 1,500 to 6,000 yards. Captain Francklin (Tour to Persia) estimates it = about four miles. (Pilgrimage ii. 113.)
16 Arab. “Ashhab.” Names of colours are few amongst semi civilised peoples, but in Arabia there is a distinct word for every shade of horseflesh.
17 She had already said to him “Thou art beaten in everything!”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sharrkan bade Princess Abrizah and her damsels doff the garb that was on them and don the garments of daughters of Greece; and thus did they. Then he despatched a company of his companions to Baghdad to acquaint his father Omar bin al-Nu’uman, with his arrival and report that he was accompanied by Princess Abrizah, daughter of King Hardub, Lord of Graecia-land. They halted forthright in the place they had reached, and Sharrkan also halted and all righted there; and when Almighty Allah made morning dawn, Sharrkan and his company and Abrizah and her company took horse and fared on towards the city; when lo! on the way they met the Wazir Dandan, who had come out amongst a thousand horse to honour Abrizah and Sharrkan, by especial commandment of King Omar Son of Al-Nu’uman. When the two drew near, they turned towards them and kissed ground before them; then they mounted again and escorted them into the city and went up with them to the palace. Sharrkan walked in to his father, who rose and embraced him and questioned him of his case. So he told him all that Abrizah had told him, and what had passed between them and said, “She hath parted from her sire and departed from her reign and hath chosen to take part with us and make her abode with us; and indeed,” he said to his father, “the King of Constantinople hath plotted to do us a mischief, because of his daughter Sophia, for that the King of Greece had made known to him her story and the cause of her being given to thee; and he (the Grecian King) not knowing her to be daughter of King Afridun, Lord of Constantinople; and, had he known that, he would not have bestowed her upon thee, but he would have restored her to her parent. And of a verity,” he continued, “we were saved from these perils only by the Lady Abrizah, and never saw we a more valiant than she.” And he went on to tell his father all that had passed from first to last of the wrestling and the single fighting. When King Omar heard the story of Sharrkan, Abrizah was exalted in his eyes, and he longed to see her and question her. Thereupon Sharrkan went out to her and said, “The King calleth for thee;” she replied, “I hear and I obey;” and he took her and brought her in to his father, who was seated on his throne and who, having dismissed his high officers, was attended only by his eunuchs. The Princess entered and kissing the ground between his hands, saluted him in choice terms. He was amazed at her eloquent speech and thanked her for her dealing with his son Sharrkan and bade her be seated. So she sat down and unveiled her face;1 and, when the King saw her beauty, his reason fled his head and he made her draw near and showed her favour, appointing her an especial palace for herself and her damsels, and assigning them solde and allowances. Then began he to ask her of the three jewels aforesaid, and she answered, “Here be they with me, O King of the age!” So saying, she rose and going to her lodging, unpacked her baggage and from it brought out a box and from the box a casket of gold. She opened the casket and taking out those three jewels, kissed them and gave them to the King. Then she went away bearing his heart with her. After her going the King sent for his son Sharrkan and gave him one jewel of the three, and when he enquired of the other two replied, “O my son! I mean to give one to thy brother Zau al-Makan, and the other to thy sister Nuzhat al — Zaman.” But when Sharrkan heard that he had a brother (for to that time he knew only of his sister) he turned to his sire and said to him, “O King, hast thou a son other than myself?” He answered, “Yes, and he is now six years old;” adding that his name was Zau al-Makan and that he and Nuzhat al-Zaman were twins, born at a birth. This news was grievous to Sharrkan, but he kept his secret and said, “The bless — ing of Allah Most High be upon them!”, and he cast the jewel from his hand and shook the dust off his clothes. Quoth the King, “How do I see thee change thy manner when hearing of this, considering that after me thou becomes” heir of the kingdom. Of a truth the troops have sworn to thee and the Emirs and Grandees have taken the oath of succession to thee; and this one of the three jewels is thine.” Sharrkan bowed his head to the ground and was ashamed to bandy words with his parent so he accepted the jewel and went away, knowing not what to do for exceeding wrath, and stayed not walking till he had entered Abrizah’s palace. As he approached she stood up to meet him and thanked him for what he had done and prayed for blessings on him and his sire. Then she sat down and seated him by her side; but when he had taken his place she saw rage in his face and questioned him, whereupon he told her that Allah had blessed his father with two children by Sophia, a boy and a girl, and that he had named the boy Zau al-Makan and the girl Nuzhat al-Zaman; adding, “He hath kept the other two jewels for them and hath given me one of thine, so I left it behind; I knew naught of Zau al-Makan’s birth till this day, and the twain are now six years old. So when I learnt this, wrath possessed me; and I tell thee the reason of my rage and hide nothing from thee. But now I fear lest my father take thee to wife, for he loveth thee and I saw in him signs of desire for thee: so what wilt thou say, if he wish this?” Quoth she, “Know, O Sharrkan, that thy father hath no dominion over me, nor can he have me without my consent; and if he prevail over me by force, I will take my own life. As for the three jewels, it was not my intent that he should give any of them to either of his children and I had no thought but that he would lay them up in his treasury with his things of price; but now I desire of thy favour that thou make me a present of the jewel which he gave thee, if thou have accepted it.” “Hearkening and obedience,” replied Sharrkan, and gave it to her. Then said she, “Fear nothing,” and talked with him awhile and continued, “I fear lest my father hear that I am with you and sit not patiently under my loss, but do his endeavours to find me; and to that end he may ally himself with King Afridun, on account of his daughter Sophia, and both come on thee with armies and so there befal great turmoil.” When Sharrken heard these words, he said to her, “O my lady, if it please thee to sojourn with us, take no thought of them; though there gather together against us all that be on land and on sea.” “ ’Tis well,” rejoined she; “if ye entreat me fair, I will tarry with you, and if ye deal evilly by me, I will depart from you.” Then she bade her slave maidens bring food; so they set the tables, and Sharrkan ate a little and went away to his own house, disturbed and perturbed. Such was his case; but regarding the affairs of his father, Omar bin al-Nu’uman, after dismissing his son Sharrkan he arose and, taking the other two jewels, betook himself to the Lady Sophia, who stood up when she saw him and remained standing till he was seated. Presently, his two children, Zau al-Makan and Nuzhat al-Zaman, came to him and he kissed them and hung a jewel round each one’s neck, at which they rejoiced and kissed his hands. Then went they to their mother, who joyed in their joy and wished the King long life; so he asked her, “Why hast thou not informed me all this time that thou art the daughter of King Afridun, Lord of Constantinople, that I might have honoured thee still more and enlarged thee in dignity and raised thy rank?” “O King,” answered Sophia, “and what could I desire greater or higher than this my standing with thee, overwhelmed as I am with thy favours and thy benefits? And, furthermore, Allah hath blessed me with two children by thee, a son and a daughter.” Her reply pleased the King and after leaving her, he set apart for her and her children a wondrous fine palace. Moreover, he appointed for them eunuchs and attendants and doctors of law and doctors of philosophy and astrologers and physicians and surgeons to do them service; and in every way he redoubled his favour and entreated them with the best of treatment. And presently he returned to the palace of his dominion and to his Court where he distributed justice among the lieges. So far concerning him and Sophia and her children; but in the matter of Abrizah the King was greatly occupied with love of her and burnt with desire of her night and day; and every night, he would go in to her and converse with her and pay his court to her, but she gave him no answer, only saying, “O King of the age! I have no desire for men at this present.” When he saw her withdraw from him, his passion waxed hotter and his longing and pining increased until, when weary of this, he summoned his Wazir Dandan and, opening his very heart to him, told him of his love for Princess Abrizah, daughter of Hardub, and informed him how she refused to yield to his wishes and how desire for her was doing him to die, for that he could get no grace of her. The Wazir, hearing these words, said to the King, “As soon as it is dark night, take thou a piece of Bhang the measure of a miskal, about an ounce, and go in to her and drink somewhat of wine with her. When the hour of ending the carousel shall draw near, fill her a last cup and dropping therein the Bhang, give it to her to drink, and she will not reach her sleeping chamber ere the drug take effect on her. Then do thou go in to her and take thy will of her; and such is my advice.”2 “Thy rede is aright,” quoth the King, and seeking his treasury, he took thence a piece of concentrated Bhang, if an elephant smelt it he would sleep from year to year. This he put in his bosom pocket and waited till some little of the night went by, when he betook himself to the palace of Princess Abrizah, who seeing him stood up to receive him; but he bade her sit down. So she sat down, and he sat by her, and he began to talk with her of wine and wassail, whereupon she furnished the carousing table3 and placed it before him. Then she set on the drinking vessels and lighted the candles and ordered to bring dried fruits and sweet meats and all that pertaineth to drinking. So they fell to tippling and the King ceased not to pledge her till drunkenness crept into her head; and seeing this he took out the bit of Bhang from his pocket and, holding it between his fingers, filled a cup with his own hand and drank it off. Then filling a second he said, “To thy companionship!”; and dropped the drug into her cup, she knowing naught of it. She took it and drank it off; then she rose and went to her sleeping chamber. He waited for less than an hour till he was assured that the dose had taken effect on her and had robbed her of her senses, when he went in to her and found her thrown on her back: and she had doffed her petticoat trousers and the air raised the skirt of her shift and discovered what was between her thighs. When the King saw the state of things and found a lighted candle at her head and another at her feet, shining upon what her thighs enshrined he took leave of his five senses for lust and Satan seduced him and he could not master himself, but put off his trousers and fell upon her and abated her maiden head. Then he rose off her and went to one of her women, by name Marjánah, and said, “Go in to thy lady and speak with her.” So she went in to her mistress and found her lying on her back insensible, with the blood running down to the calves of her legs, whereupon she took a kerchief and wiped away the blood and lay by her that night. As soon as Almighty Allah brought the dawn, the handmaid Marjanah washed her mistress’s hands and feet and brought rose water and bathed her face and mouth with it, where upon she sneezed and yawned and cast up from her inside that bit of Bhang like a bolus.4 Then she revived and washed her hands and mouth and said to Marjanah, “Tell me what hath befallen me.” So she told her what had passed and how she had found her, lying on her back, with the blood running down, wherefore she knew that King Omar bin al-Nu’uman had lain with her and had undone her and taken his will of her. At this she grieved with exceeding grief and retired into privacy, saying to her damsels, “Deny me to whoso would come in to me and say to him that I am ill, till I see what Allah will do with me.” Presently the news of her sickness came to the King; so he sent her sherbets and sugar electuaries. Some months she thus passed in solitude, during which time the King’s flame cooled and his desire for her was quenched, so that he abstained from her. Now she had conceived by him, and when the months of child breeding had gone by, her pregnancy appeared and her belly swelled, and the world was straitened upon her, so she said to her handmaid Marjanah, “Know that it is not the folk who have wronged me, but I who sinned against my own self5 in that I left my father and mother and country. Indeed, I abhor life, for my spirit is broken and neither courage nor strength is left me. I used, when I mounted my steed, to have the mastery of him, but now I am unable to ride. If I be brought to bed among them I shall be dishonoured before my hand women and every one in the palace will know that he hath taken my maidenhead in the way of shame; and if I return to my father, with what face shall I meet him or with what face shall I have recourse to him? How well quoth the poet,
‘Say, what shall solace one who hath nor home nor stable stead
Nor cup companion, nor a cup, nor place to house his head?’”
Marjanah answered her, “It is thine to command; I will obey;” and Abrizah said, “I desire at once to leave this place secretly, so that none shall know of me but thou; and return to my father and my mother, for when flesh stinketh, there is naught for it but its own folk and Allah shall do with me e’en as He will.” “O Princess,” Marjanah replied, “what thou wouldest do is well.” Then she made matters ready and kept her secret and waited for some days till the King went out to chase and hunt, and his son Sharrkan betook himself to certain of the fortresses to sojourn there awhile. Then said she to Marjanah, “I wish to set out this night, but how shall I do against my destiny? For already I feel the pangs of labour and child birth, and if I abide other four or five days, I shall be brought to bed here, and I shall be unable to travel to my country. But this is what was written on my forehead.” Then she considered awhile, and said to Marjanah, “Look us out a man who will go with us and serve us by the way, for I have no strength to bear arms.” “By Allah, O my lady,” replied Marjanah, “I know none but a black slave called Al-Ghazbán,6 who is one of the slaves of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman; he is a valiant wight, and he keepeth guard at our palace gate. The King appointed him to attend us, and indeed we have overwhelmed him with our favours; so, lookye, I will go out and speak with him of this matter, and promise him some monies and tell him that, if he have a mind to tarry with us, I will marry him to whom he will. He told me before to day that he had been a highwayman; so if he consent to us we shall win our wish and reach to our own land.” She rejoined, “Call him that I may talk with him;” whereupon Marjanah fared forth and said to the slave, ‘O Ghazban, Allah prosper thee, so thou fall in with what my lady saith to thee!” Then she took him by the hand and brought him to the Princess, whose hands he kissed but as she beheld him, her heart took fright at him. “How ever,” she said to herself, “of a truth, Need giveth the law;” and she approached to speak with him, yet her heart started away from him. Presently she said, “O Ghazban, say me, wilt thou help me against the perfidies of Fortune and conceal my secret if I discover it to thee?” When the slave saw her, his heart was taken by storm and he fell in love with her forthright and could not but reply; “O my mistress, whatsoever thou biddest me do, I will not depart therefrom.” Quoth she, “I would have thee take me at this hour and take this my handmaid and saddle us two camels and two of the King’s horses and set on each horse a saddle bag of goods and somewhat of provaunt, and go with us to our own country; where, if thou desire to abide with us, I will marry thee to her thou shalt choose of my handmaidens, or, if thou prefer return to thine own land, we will marry thee and give thee whatso thou desires” after thou hast taken of money what shall satisfy thee.” When Al Ghazban, heard this, he rejoiced with great joy and replied, “O my lady, I will serve both of you with mine eyes and will go at once and saddle the horses.” Then he went away gladsome and saying to himself, “I shall get my will of them and if they will not yield to me, I will kill them both and take their riches.” But he kept this his intent to himself, and presently returned with two camels and three head of horses, one of which he rode, and Princess Abrizah made Marjanah mount the second she mounting the third, albeit she was in labour pains and possessed not her soul for anguish. And the slave ceased not travelling with them night and day through the passes of the mountains, till there remained but musingly march between them and their own country; when the travail pangs came upon Abrizah and she could no longer resist; so she said to Al–Ghazban, “Set me down, for the pains of labour are upon me;” and cried to Marjanah, “Do thou alight and sit by me and deliver me.” Then Marjanah dismounted from her horse, and Al–Ghazban did in like sort, and they made fast the bridles and helped the Princess to dismount, for she was aswoon from excess of anguish. When Al–Ghazban saw her on the ground, Satan entered into him and he drew his falchion and brandishing it in her face, said “O my lady, vouchsafe me thy favours.” Hearing these words she turned to him and said, “It remaineth for me only that I yield me to negro slaves, after having refused Kings and Braves!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Showing that she was still a Christian.
2 This is not Badawi sentiment: the honoratioren amongst wild people would scorn such foul play; but amongst the settled Arabs honour between men and women is unknown and such “hocussing” would be held quite fair.
3 The table of wine, in our day, is mostly a japanned tray with glasses and bottles, saucers of pickles and fruits and, perhaps, a bunch of flowers and aromatic herbs. During the Caliphate the “wine-service” was on a larger scale.
4 Here the “Bhang” (almost a generic term applied to hellebore, etc.) may be hyoscyamus or henbane. Yet there are varieties of Cannabis, such as the Dakha of South Africa capable of most violent effect. I found the use of the drug well known to the negroes of the Southern United States and of the Brazil, although few of their owners had ever heard of it.
5 Amongst Moslems this is a reference to Adam who first “sinned against himself,’ and who therefore is called ” Safíyu’llah,” the Pure of Allah. (Pilgrimage iii. 333.)
6 Meaning, an angry, violent man.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Princess Abrizah said to the black slave Al Ghazban, “It remaineth for me only that I yield me to negro slaves, after having refused Kings and Braves!” And she was wroth with him and cried, “Woe to thee! what words are these thou sayest? Out on thee, and talk not thus in my presence and know that I will never consent to what thou sayest, though I drink the cup of death. Wait till I have cast my burden and am delivered of the after birth, and then, if thou be able thereto, do with me as thou wilt; but, an thou leave not lewd talk at this time assuredly I will slay myself with my own hand and quit the world and be at peace from all this.” And she began reciting extempore,1
“O spare me, thou Ghazban, indeed enow for me
Are heavy strokes of time, mischance and misery!
Whoredom my Lord forfends to all humanity;
Quoth He, ‘Who breaks my bidding Hell for home shall see!’
And if thou leave not suing me to whoredom’s way
Against th’ Almighty’s choicest gift, my chastity,
Upon my tribesmen I with might and main will call
And gather all, however far or near they be;
And with Yamáni blade were I in pieces hewn,
Ne’er shall he sight my face who makes for villeiny,
The face of free born come of noble folk and brave;
What then can be to me the seed of whoreson slave?”
When Ghazban heard these lines he was wroth exceedingly; his eyes reddened with blood and his face became a dusty grey2; his nostrils swelled, his lips protruded and the repulsiveness of his aspect redoubled. And he repeated these couplets,
“Ho thou, Abrizah, mercy! leave me not for I
Of thy love and
Yamáni3 glance the victim lie
My heart is cut to pieces by thy cruelty,
My body wasted and my patience done to die:
From glances ravishing all hearts with witchery
Reason far flies, the while desire to thee draws nigh;
Though at thy call should armies fill the face of earth
E’en now I’d win my wish and worlds in arms defy!”
When Abrizah heard these words, she wept with sore weeping and said to him, “Woe to thee, O Ghazban! How dareth the like of thee to address me such demand, O base born and obscene bred? Dost thou deem all folk are alike?” When the vile slave heard this from her, he waxt more enraged and his eyes grew redder: and he came up to her and smiting her with the sword on her neck wounded her to the death. Then he drove her horse before him with the treasure and made off with himself to the mountains. Such was the case with Al–Ghazban; but as regards Abrizah, she gave birth to a son, like the moon, and Marjanah took the babe and did him the necessary offices and laid him by his mother’s side; and lo and behold! the child fastened to its mother’s breast and she dying.4 When Marjanah saw this, she cried out with a grievous cry and rent her raiment and cast dust on her head and buffeted her cheeks till blood flowed, saying, “Alas, my mistress! Alas, the pity of it! Thou art dead by the hand of a worthless black slave, after all thy knightly prowess!” And she ceased not weeping when suddenly a great cloud of dust arose and walled the horizon;5 but, after awhile, it lifted and discovered a numerous conquering host. Now this was the army of King Hardub, Princess Abrizah’s father, and the cause of his coming was that when he heard of his daughter and her handmaids having fled to Baghdad, and that they were with King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, he had come forth, leading those with him, to seek tidings of her from travellers who might have seen her with the King. When he had gone a single day’s march from his capital, he espied three horse men afar off and made towards them, intending to ask whence they came and seek news of his daughter. Now these three whom he saw at a distance were his daughter and Marjanah and the slave Al — Ghazban; and he made for them to push inquiry. Seeing this the villain blackamoor feared for himself; so he killed Abrizah and fled for his life. When they came up, King Hardub saw his daughter lying dead and Marjanah weeping over her, and he threw himself from his steed and fell fainting to the ground. All the riders of his company, the Emirs and Waxirs, took foot and forth right pitched their tents on the mountain and set up for the King a great pavilion, domed and circular, without which stood the grandees of the realm. When Marjanah saw her master, she at once recognized him and her tears redoubled; and, when he came to himself, he questioned her and she told him all that had passed and said, “Of a truth he that hath slain thy daughter is a black slave belonging to King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, and she informed him how Sharrkan’s father had dealt with the Princess. When King Hardub heard this, the world grew black in his sight and he wept with sore weeping. Then he called for a litter and, therein laying his dead daughter, returned to Caesarea and carried her into the palace, where he went in to his mother, Zat al-Dawahi, and said to that Lady of Calamities, “Shall the Moslems deal thus with my girl? Verily King Omar bin al-Nu’uman despoiled her of her honour by force, and after this, one of his black slaves slew her. By the truth of the Messiah, I will assuredly take blood revenge for my daughter and clear away from mine honour the stain of shame; else will I kill myself with mine own hand!” And he wept passing sore. Quoth his mother, “None other than Marjanah killed thy daughter, for she hated her in secret;” and she continued to her son, “Fret not for taking the blood wit of thy daughter, for, by the truth of the Messiah, I will not turn back from King Omar bin al-Nu’uman till I have slain him and his sons; and of a very truth I will do with him a deed, passing the power of Sage and Knight, whereof the chroniclers shall tell chronicles in all countries and in every place: but needs must thou do my bidding in all I shall direct, for whoso be firmly set on the object of his desire shall surely compass his desire.” “By the virtue of the Messiah,” replied he, “I will not cross thee in aught thou shalt say.” Then quoth she, “Bring me a number of hand maids, high bosomed virgins, and summon the wise men of the age and let them teach them philosophy and the rules of behaviour before Kings, and the art of conversation and making verses; and let them talk with them of all manner science and edifying knowledge. And the sages must be Moslems, that they may teach them the language and traditions of the Arabs, together with the history of the Caliphs and the ancient annals of the Kings of Al–Islam; and if we persevere in this for four years’ space, we shall gain our case. So possess thy soul in patience and wait; for one of the Arabs saith, ‘If we take man bote after years forty the time were short to ye.’ When we have taught the girls these things, we shall be able to work our will with our foe, for he doteth on women and he hath three hundred and sixty concubines, whereto are now added an hundred of the flowers of thy handmaidens who were with thy daughter, she that hath found mercy.6 As soon as I have made an end of their education, as described to thee, I will take them and set out with them in person.” When King Hardub heard his mother’s words, he rejoiced and arose and kissed her head; and at once despatched messengers and couriers to lands sundry and manifold to fetch him Moslem sages. They obeyed his commands and fared to far countries and thence brought him the sages and the doctors he sought. When these came into presence, he honoured them with notable honorurs and bestowed dresses on them and appointed to them stipends and allowances and promised them much money whenas they should have taught the damsels. Then he committed the handmaidens to their hands — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Inshád,” which may mean reciting the verse of another or improvising one’s own. In Modern Egypt “Munshid” is the singer or reciter of poetry at Zikrs (Lane M. E. chaps. xxiv.). Here the verses are quite bad enough to be improvised by the hapless Princess.
2 The negro skin assumes this dust colour in cold, fear, concupiscence and other mental emotions.
3 He compares her glance with the blade of a Yamani sword, a lieu commun of Eastern poetry. The weapons are famous in The Nights; but the best sword-cutlery came from Persia as the porcelain from China to Sana’á. Here, however, is especial allusion as to the sword “Samsam” or “Samsamah.” It belonged to the Himyarite Tobba, Amru bin Ma’ad Kurb, and came into the hands of Harun al-Rashid. When the Emperor of the Greeks sent a present of superior sword-blades to him by way of a brave, the Caliph, in the presence of the Envoys, took “Samsam” in hand and cut the others in twain as if they were cabbages without the least prejudice to the edge of “Samsam.”
4 This touch of pathos is truly Arab. So in the “Romance of Dalhamah” (Lane, M. E. xxiii.) the infant Gundubah sucks the breast of its dead mother and the King exclaims, “If she had committed this crime she would not be affording the child her milk after she was dead.”
5 Arab. “Sadda’l-Aktár,” a term picturesque enough to be preserved in English. “Sadd,” I have said, is a wall or dyke, the term applied to the great dam of water — plants which obstructs the navigation of the Upper Nile, the lilies and other growths floating with the current from the (Victoria) Nyanza Lake. I may note that we need no longer derive from India the lotus-llily so extensively used by the Ancient Egyptians and so neglected by the moderns that it has well nigh disappeared. All the Central African basins abound in the Nymphæa and thence it found its way down the Nile Valley.
6 Arab. “Al Marhúmah”: equivalent to our “late lamented.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the sages and the doctors stood in presence of King Hardub, he honoured them with notable honours and committed the hand maidens to their hands, enjoining that these be instructed in all manner of knowledge, philosophy and polite accomplishments; and they set themselves to do his bidding. Such was the case with King Hardub; but as for King Omar bin al Nu’uman, when he returned from coursing and hunting and entered his palace, he sought Princess Abrizah but found her not, nor any one knew of her nor could any give him news of her. This was grievous to him and he said, “How could the lady leave the palace unknown of any? Had my kingdom been at stake in this case, it were in perilous condition there being none to govern it! I will never again go to sport and hunt till I have stationed at the gates those who shall keep good guard over them!” And he was sore vexed and his breast was straitened for the loss of Princess Abrizah. Hereupon behold, his son Sharrkan returned from his journey; and the father told him what had happened, and informed him how the lady had fled, whilst he was chasing and hunting, whereat he grieved with exceeding grief. Then King Omar took to visiting his children every day and making much of them and brought them learned men and doctors to teach them, appointing for them stipends. When Sharrkan saw this, he raged with exceeding rage and envied thereupon his brother and sister till the signs of chagrin appeared in his face and he ceased not to languish by reason of this matter: so one day his father said to him, “Why do I see thee grown weak in body and yellow of face?” “O my father,” replied Sharrkan, “every time I see thee fondle my brother and sister and make much of them, jealousy seizeth on me, and I fear lest it grow on me till I slay them and thou slay me in return. And this is the reason of my weakness of body and change of complexion. But now I crave of thy favour that thou give me one of thy castles outlying the rest, that I may abide there the remnant of my life, for as the sayer of bywords saith, ‘Absence from my friend is better and fitter for me’; and, ‘Whatso eye doth not perceive, that garreth not heart to grieve.’” And he bowed his head towards the ground. When King Omar bin al-Nu’uman heard his words and knew the cause of his ailment and of his being broken down, he soothed his heart and said to him, “O my son, I grant thee this and I have not in my reign a greater than the Castle of Damascus, and the government of it is thine from this time.” Thereupon he forthright summoned his secretaries of state and bade them write Sharrkan’s patent of investiture to the viceroyalty of Damascus of Syria. And when they had written it, he equipped him and sent with him the Wazir Dandan, and invested him with the rule and government and gave him instructions as to policy and regulations; and took leave of him, and the grandees and officers of state did likewise, and he set out with his host. When he arrived at Damascus, the townspeople beat the drums and blew the trumpets and decorated the city and came out to meet him in great state; whilst all the notables and grandees paced in procession, and those who stood to the right of the throne walked on his right flank, and the others to the left. Thus far concerning Sharrkan; but as regards his father, Omar bin al-Nu’uman, soon after the departure of his son, the children’s tutors and governors presented themselves before him and said to him, “O our lord, thy children have now learnt knowledge and they are completely versed in the rules of manners and the etiquette of ceremony.” The King rejoiced thereat with exceeding joy and conferred bountiful largesse upon the learned men, seeing Zau al-Makan grown up and flourishing and skilled in horsemanship. The Prince had reached the age of fourteen and he occupied himself with piety and prayers, loving the poor, the Olema and the Koran students, so that all the people of Baghdad loved him, men and women. One day, the procession of the Mahmil1 of Irák passed round Baghdad before its departure for the pilgrimage to Meccah and visitation of the tomb of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!). When Zau al-Makan the Mahmil procession he was seized with longing desire to become a pilgrim,2 so he went in to his sire and said, “I come to ask thy leave to make the pilgrimage.” But his father forbade him saying, “Wait till next year and I will go and thou too.” When the Prince saw that the matter was postponed, he betook himself to his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman, whom he found standing at prayer. As soon as she had ended her devotions he said to her, “I am dying with desire of pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah at Meccah and to visit the tomb of the Prophet, upon whom be peace! I asked my father’s leave, but he forbade me that, so I mean to take privily somewhat of money and set out on the pilgrimage without his knowledge.” “Allah upon thee,” exclaimed she, “take me with thee and deprive me not of visitation to the tomb of the Prophet, whom Allah bless and keep!” And he answered, “As soon as it is dark night, do thou come forth from this place, without telling any.” Accordingly,When it was the middle of the night she arose and took somewhat of money and donned a man’s habit; and she ceased not walking to the palace gate, where she found Zau al-Makan with camels ready for marching. So he mounted and mounted her; and the two fared on till they were in the midst of the Iraki3 pilgrim-party, and they ceased not marching and Allah wrote safety for them, till they entered Meccah the Holy and stood upon Arafát and performed the pilgrimage rites. Then they made a visitation to the tomb of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and assain!) and thought to return with the pilgrims to their native land. But Zau al-Makan said to his sister, “O my sister, it is in my mind to visit the Holy House,4 Jerusalem, and Abraham the Friend of Allah 5 (on whom be peace!).” “I also desire so to do,” replied she. So they agreed upon this and he fared forth and took passage for himself and her and they made ready and set out in the ship with a company of Jerusalem palmers. That very night the sister fell sick of an aguish chill, and was grievously ill but presently recovered, after which the brother also sickened. She tended him during his malady and they ceased not wayfaring till they arrived at Jerusalem, but the fever increased on him and he grew weaker and weaker. They alighted at a Khan and there hired a lodging; but Zau al — Makan’s sickness ceased not to increase on him, till he was wasted with leanness and became delirious. At this, his sister was greatly afflicted and exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! This is the decree of Allah!” They sojourned in that place awhile, his weakness ever increasing and she attending him and buying necessaries for him and for herself, till all the money she had was expended and she became so poor that she had not so much as a dirham left. Then she sent a servant of the Khan to the bazar with some of her clothes, and he sold them and she spent the price upon her brother; then sold she something more and she ceased not selling all she had, piece by piece, till nothing was left but an old rug. Whereupon she wept and exclaimed, “Verily is Allah the Orderer of the past and the future!” Presently her brother said to her, “O my sister, I feel recovery drawing near and my heart longeth for a little roast meat.” “By Allah! O my brother,” replied she, “I have no face to beg; but tomorrow I will enter some rich man’s house and serve him and earn somewhat for our living.” Then she bethought herself awhile and said, “Of a truth ’tis hard for me to leave thee and thou in this state, but I must despite myself!” He rejoined, “Allah forbid! Thou wilt be put to shame; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!” And he wept and she wept too. Then she said, “O my brother, we are strangers who have dwelt here a full year, but none hath yet knocked at our door. Shall we then die of hunger? I know no resource but that I go out and do service and earn somewhat to keep us alive, till thou recover from thy sickness, when we will travel back to our native land.” She sat weeping awhile and he wept too, propped upon his elbow. Then Nuzhat al-Zaman arose and, veiling her head with a bit of camlet,6 which had been of the cameleer’s clothes and which the owner had forgotten and left with them; she kissed the head of her brother and embraced him and went forth from him, weeping and knowing not whither she should wend. And she stinted not going and her brother Zau al-Makan awaiting her return till the supper time; but she came not, and he watched for her till the morning morrowed but still she returned not; and this endured till two days went by. He was greatly troubled thereat and his heart fluttered for her, and hunger was sore upon him. At last he left the chamber and, calling the servant of the caravanserai, said, “I wish thee to bear me to the bazar.” So he carried him to the market street and laid him down there; and the people of Jerusalem gathered round him and were moved to tears seeing his condition. He signed to them begging for somewhat to eat; so they brought him some money from certain of the merchants who were in the bazar, and bought food and fed him therewith; after which they carried him to a shop, where they spread him a mat of palm leaves and set an ewer of water at his head. When night fell, all the folk went away, sore concerned for him and, in the middle of the night, he called to mind his sister and his sickness redoubled on him, so that he abstained from eating and drinking and became insensible to the world around him. Then the bazar people arose and took for him from the merchants thirty seven dirhams, and hiring a camel, said to the driver, “Carry this sick man to Damascus and leave him in the hospital; haply he may be cured and recover health.” “On my head be it!” replied the camel man; but he said to himself, “How shall I take this sick man to Damascus, and he nigh upon death?” So he carried him away to a place and hid with him till the night, when he threw him down on the ash heap near the fire hole of a Hammam and went his way. When morning dawned the Stoker7 of the bath came to his work and, finding Zau al-Makan cast on his back, exclaimed, “Why did they not throw their dead body anywhere but here?” So saying, he gave him a kick and he moved; whereupon quoth the Fireman, “Some one of you who hath eaten a bit of Hashish and hath thrown himself down in whatso place it be!” Then he looked at his face and saw his hairless cheeks and his grace and comeliness; so he took pity on him and knew that he was sick and a stranger in the land. And he cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! verily, I have sinned against this youth, for indeed the Prophet (whom Allah bless and keep!) enjoineth honour to the stranger, more especially when the stranger is sick.” Then he carried him home and went in with him to his wife and bade her tend him. So she spread him a sleeping rug and set a cushion under his head, then warmed water for him and washed therewith his hands and feet and face. Meanwhile, the Stoker went to the market and bought some rose water and sugar, and sprinkled Zau al-Makan’s face with the water and gave him to drink of the sherbet. Then he fetched a clean shirt and put it on him. With this, Zau al-Makan sniffed the zephyr of health and recovery returned to him; and he sat up and leant against the pillow. Hereat the Fireman rejoiced and exclaimed, “Praise be to Allah for the welfare of this youth! O Allah, I beseech Thee by Thy knowledge of hidden things, that Thou make the salvation of this youth to be at my hands!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Vulgarly pronounced “Mahmal,” and by Egyptians and Turks “Mehmel.” Lane (M. E. xxiv.) has figured this queenly litter and I have sketched and described it in my Pilgrimage (iii. 12).
2 For such fits of religious enthusiasm see my Pilgrimage (iii. 254).
3 “Irák” (Mesopotamia) means “a level country beside the banks of a ever.”
4 “Al Kuds,” or “Bays al-Mukaddas,” is still the popular name of Jerusalem, from the Heb. Yerushalaim ha-Kadushah (legend on shekel of Simon Maccabeus).
5 “Follow the religion of Abraham” says the Koran (chaps. iii. 89). Abraham, titled “Khalílu’llah,” ranks next in dignity to Mohammed, preceding Isa, I need hardly say that his tomb is not in Jerusalem nor is the tomb itself at Hebron ever visited. Here Moslems (soi disant) are allowed by the jealousies of Europe to close and conceal a place which belongs to the world, especially to Jews and Christians. The tombs, if they exist, lie in a vault or cave under the Mosque.
6 Abá, or Abáyah, vulg. Abayah, is a cloak of hair, goat’s or camel’s; too well known to require description.
7 Arab. “Al–Wakkád,” the man who lights and keeps up the bath-fires.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Fireman exclaimed, “O Allah, I beseech Thee of Thy knowledge of hidden things, that Thou make this young man’s life the work of my hands!” And he ceased not to nurse him for three days, giving him to drink of sherbet of sugar and willow flower water and rose water; and doing him all manner of service and kindness, till health began to return to his body and Zau al-Makan opened his eyes. Presently came in the Fireman and, seeing him sitting up and showing signs of amendment, said to him, “What is now thy state, O my son?” “Praise be to Allah,” replied Zau al-Makan, “I am well and like to recover, if such be the will of Allah Almighty at this time.” The Stoker praised the Lord of All for this and, wending fast to the market, bought ten chickens, which he carried to his wife and said, “Kill two of these for him every day, one at dawn of day and the other at fall of day.” So she rose up and killed a fowl and brought it to him boiled, and fed him with the flesh and made him drink its broth. When he had done eating, she fetched hot water and he washed his hands and lay back upon the pillow, whereupon she covered him up with the coverlet, and he slept till the time of the mid afternoon prayer. Then she arose and killed another fowl and boiled it; after which she cut it up and, bringing it to Zau al-Makan, said, “Eat, O my son!” While he was eating; behold, her husband entered and seeing her feeding him, sat down at his head and said to him, “How is it with thee now, O my son?” “Thanks be to Allah for recovery!” he replied: “may the Almighty requite thee thy kindness to me.” At this the Fireman rejoiced and going out, bought sherbet of violets and rose water and made him drink it. Now the Stoker used to work at the Hammam all day for a wage of five dirhams, whereof he spent every day, for Zau al-Makan, one dirham upon sugar and sherbet of rose water and willow flower water,1 and another dirham for fowls; and he ceased not to entreat him thus kindly during a whole month, till the traces of illness ceased from him and he was once more sound and whole. Thereupon the Fireman and his wife rejoiced and asked him, “O my son, wilt thou go with me to the bath?”; whereto he answered, “Yes!” So the Stoker went to the bazar and fetched a donkey boy, and he mounted Zau al-Makan on the ass and supported him in the saddle till they came to the bath. Then he made him sit down and seated the donkey boy in the furnace-room and went forth to the market and bought Iote leaves and lupin-flour,2 with which he returned to the bath and said to Zau al-Makan, “O my master, in Allah’s name, walk in and I will wash thy body.” So they entered the inner room of the bath, and the Fireman took to rubbing Zau al-Makan’s legs and began to wash his body with the leaves and meal, when there came to them a bathman, whom the bath keeper had sent to Zau al-Makan; and he, seeing the Stoker washing and rubbing him, said, “This is doing injury to the keeper’s rights.” Replied the Fireman, “The master overwhelmeth us with his favours!” Then the bathman proceeded to shave Zau al-Makan’s head, after which he and the Stoker washed themselves and returned to the house, where he clad Zau al-Makan in a shirt of fine stuff and a robe of his own; and gave him a handsome turband and girdle and a light kerchief which he wound about his neck. Meanwhile the Fireman’s wife had killed and cooked two chickens; so, as soon as Zau al-Makan entered and seated himself on the carpet, the husband arose and, dissolving sugar in willow flower water, made him drink of it. Then he brought the food tray and, cutting up the chickens, fed him with the flesh and gave him the broth to drink till he was satisfied; when he washed his hands and praised Allah for recovery, and said to the Fireman, “Thou art he whom the Almighty vouchsafed to me and made the cause of my cure!” “Leave this talk,” replied the other, “and tell us the cause of thy coming to this city and whence thou art. Thy face showeth signs of gentle breeding.” “Tell me first how thou camest to fall in with me,” said Zau al-Makan; “and after I will tell thee my story.” Rejoined the Fireman, “As for that, I found thee lying on the rubbish heap by the door of the fire house, as I went to my work near the morning, and knew not who had thrown thee there. So I carried thee home with me; and this is all my tale.” Quoth Zau al-Makan, “Glory to Him who quickeneth the bones, though they be rotten! Indeed, O my brother, thou hast not done good save to one worthy of it, and thou shalt presently gather its fruitage.” And he added, “But where am I now?” “Thou art in the city of Jerusalem,” replied the Stoker; where upon Zau al-Makan called to mind his strangerhood and remembered his separation from his sister and wept. Then he discovered his secret to the Fireman and told him his story and began repeating,
“In love they bore me further than my force would go,
And for them made me suffer resurrection throe:
Oh, have compassion, cruel! on this soul of mine
Which, since ye fared, is pitied by each envious foe;
Nor grudge the tender mercy of one passing glance
My case to lighten, easing this excess of woe:
Quoth I ‘Heart, bear this loss in patience!’ Patience cried
‘Take heed! no patience in such plight I’m wont to show.’ ”
Then he redoubled his weeping, and the Fireman said to him, “Weep not, but rather praise Allah for safety and recovery.” Asked Zau al-Makan, “How far is it hence to Damascus?” Answered the other, “Six days’ journey.” Then quoth Zau al-Makan, “Wilt thou send me thither?” “O my lord,” quoth the Stoker, “how can I allow thee to go alone, and thou a youth and a stranger to boot? If thou would journey to Damascus, I am one who will go with thee; and if my wife will listen to and obey me and accompany me, I will take up my abode there; for it is no light matter to part with thee.” Then said he to his wife, “Wilt thou travel with me to Damascus of Syria or wilt thou abide here, whilst I lead this my lord thither and return to thee? For he is bent upon going to Damascus of Syria and, by Allah, it is hard to me to part with him, and I fear for him from highway men.” Replied she, “I will go with you both;” and he rejoined, “Praised be Allah for accord, and we have said the last word!” Then he rose and selling all his own goods and his wife’s gear — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Fire man and his wife agreed with Zau al-Makan to travel with him Damascus wards. Then the Stoker sold his goods and his wife’s gear and bought a camel and hired an ass for Zau al-Makan; and they set out, and ceased not wayfaring for six days till they reached Damascus. And they arrived there towards eventide; when the Fireman went forth and, as was his wont, bought some meat and drink. They had dwelt but five days in Damascus, when his wife sickened and, after a short illness, was translated to the mercy of Almighty Allah. Her death was a heavy matter to Zau al-Makan, for he was grown used to her as she had tended him assiduously; and the Fireman grieved for her with excessive grief. Presently the Prince turned to the Stoker and finding him mourning, said to him, “Grieve not, for at this gate we must all go in.” Replied he, “Allah make weal thy lot, O my son! Surely He will compensate us with His favours and cause our mourning to cease. What sayst thou, O my son, about our walking abroad to view Damascus and cheer thy spirits?” Replied Zau al-Makan, “Thy will is mine.” So the Fireman arose and placed his hand in that of Zau al — Makan and the two walked on till they came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they found camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs, and horses ready saddled and Bactrian dromedaries, while Mamelukes and negro slaves and folk in a hubbub were running to and fro. Quoth Zau al-Makan, “I wonder to whom belong all these chattels and camels and stuffs!” So he asked one of the eunuchs, “Whither this dispatching?’’ and he answered, “These are presents sent by the Emir of Damascus to King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, with the tribute of Syria.” Now when Zau al-Makan heard his father’s name his eyes brimmed over with tears, and he began repeating,
“Oh ye gone from the gaze of these ridded eyne,
Ye whose sight in my spirit shall ever dwell!
Your charms are gone, but this heart of me
Hath no sweet, and no pleasures its sour dispel;
If Allah’s grace make us meet again,
In long drawn love-tale my love I’ll tell.”
And when he had ended his verse, he wept and the Fireman said to him, “O my son, we hardly believed that thy health had returned;1 so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a relapse for thee.” And he ceased not comforting and cheering him, whilst Zau al-Makan sighed and moaned over his strangerhood and separation from his sister and his family; and tears streamed from his eyes and he recited these couplets,
“Get thee provaunt in this world ere thou wend upon thy way,
And know how surely Death descends thy life lot to waylay:
All thy worldly goods are pride and the painfullest repine;
All thy worldly life is vexing, of thy soul in vain display:
Say is not worldly wone like a wanderer’s place of rest,
Where at night he ‘nakhs’2 his camels and moves off at dawn of day?”
And he continued to weep and wail over his separation; whilst the Fireman also bewept the loss of his wife, yet ceased not to comfort Zau al-Makan till morning dawned. When the sun rose, he said to him, “Meseemeth thou yearnest for thy native land?” “Yes,” replied Zau al-Makan, “and I can no longer tarry here; so I will commend thee to Allah’s care and set out with these folk and journey with them, little by little, till I come to my mother land.” Said the Stoker, “And I with thee; for of a truth I cannot bear to part with thee. I have done thee kindly service and I mean to complete it by tending thee on thy travel.” At this, Zau al-Makan rejoiced and said, “Allah abundantly requite thee for me!” and was pleased with the idea of their travelling together. The Fireman at once went forth and bought another ass, selling the camel; and laid in his provaunt and said to Zau al-Makan, “This is for thee to ride by the way; and, when thou art weary of riding, thou canst dismount and walk.” Said Zau al-Makan, “May Allah bless thee and aid me to requite thee! for verily thou hast dealt with me more lovingly than one with his brother.” Then he waited till it was dark night, when he laid the provisions and baggage on that ass and set forth upon their journey. This much befel Zau al-Makan and the Fireman; but as regards what happened to his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman, when she left her brother in the Khan where they abode and, wrapped in the old camlet, went out to seek service with some one, that she might earn wherewithal to buy him the roast meat he longed for, she fared on, weeping and knowing not whither to go, whilst her mind was occupied with thoughts of her brother and of her family and her native land. So she implored Allah Almighty to do away with these calamities from them and began versifying,
“Dark falls the night and Passion comes sore pains to gar me
dree,
And pine upstirs those ceaseless pangs which work my tormentry,
And cease not separation flames my vitals to consume,
And drives me on destruction way this sorrow’s ecstacy
And longing breeds me restlessness; desire for ever fires,
And tears to all proclaim what I would keep in secrecy
No cunning shift is known to me a meeting to secure,
That I may quit this sickly state, may cure my malady:
The love which blazeth in my heart is fed with fancy fuel,
The lover from its hell of fire must bear Hell’s agony!3
O thou who blamest me for all befel me, ’tis enough,
Patient I bear what ever wrote the Reed of Doom for me:
By Love I swear I’ll never be consoled, no, never more;
I swear the oath of Love’s own slaves who know no perjury:
O Night, to chroniclers of Love the news of me declare;
That sleep hath fed mine eyelids of thy knowledge witness bear!”
Then she walked on, weeping and turning right and left as she went, when behold, there espied her an old Badawi4 who had come into the town from the desert with wild Arabs other five. The old man took note of her and saw that she was lovely, but she had nothing on her head save a piece of camlet, and, marvelling at her beauty, he said to himself, “This charmer dazzleth men’s wits but she is in squalid condition, and whether she be of the people of this city or she be a stranger, I needs must have her.” So he followed her, little by little, till he met her face to face and stopped the way before her in a narrow lane, and called out to her, asking her case, and said, “Tell me, O my little daughter! art thou a free woman or a slave?” When she heard this, she said to him, “By thy life, do not add to my sorrows!” Quoth he, “Allah hath blessed me with six daughters, of whom five died and only one is left me, the youngest of all; and I came to ask thee if thou be of the folk of this city or a stranger; that I might take thee and carry thee to her, to bear her company so as to divert her from pining for her sisters. If thou have no kith and kin, I will make thee as one of them and thou and she shall be as my two children.” Nuzhat al-Zaman bowed her head in bashfulness when she heard what he said and communed with herself, “Haply I may trust myself to this old man.” Then she said to him, “O nuncle, I am a maiden of the Arabs and a stranger and I have a sick brother; but I will go with thee to thy daughter on one condition, which is, that I may spend only the day with her and at night may return to my brother. If thou strike this bargain I will fare with thee, for I am a stranger and I was high in honour among my tribe, and I awoke one morning to find myself vile and abject. I came with my brother from the land of Al–Hijaz and I fearless he know not where I am.” When the Badawi heard this, he said to himself, “By Allah, I have got my desire!” Then he turned to her and replied, “There shall none be dearer to me than thou; I wish thee only to bear my daughter company by day and thou shalt go to thy brother at earliest nightfall. Or, if thou wilt, bring him over to dwell with us.” And the Badawi ceased not to console her heart and coax her, till she trusted in him and agreed to serve him. Then he walked on before her and, when she followed him, he winked to his men to go in advance and harness the dromedaries and load them with their packs and place upon them water and provisions, ready for setting out as soon as he should come up with the camels. Now this Badawi was a base born churl, a highway thief and a traitor to the friend he held most fief, a rogue in grain, past master of plots and chicane. He had no daughter and no son and was only passing through the town when, by the decree of the Decreer, he fell in with this unhappy one. And he ceased not to hold her in converse on the highway till they came without the city of Jerusalem and, when outside, he joined his companions and found they had made ready the dromedaries. So the Badawi mounted a camel, having seated Nuzhat al-Zaman behind him and they rode on all night. Then she knew that the Badawi’s proposal was a snare and that he had tricked her; and she continued weeping and crying out the whole night long, while they journeyed on making for the mountains, in fear any should see them. Now when it was near dawn, they dismounted from their dromedaries and the Badawi came up to Nuzhat al-Zaman and said to her, “O city strumpet, what is this weeping? By Allah, an thou hold not thy peace, I will beat thee to death, O thou town filth!” When she heard this she loathed life and longed for death; so she turned to him and said, “O accursed old man, O gray beard of hell, how have I trusted thee and thou hast played me false, and now thou wouldst torture me?” When he heard her reply he cried out, “O lazy baggage, dost thou dare to bandy words with me?” And he stood up to her and beat her with a whip, saying, “An thou hold not thy peace, I will kill thee!” So she was silent awhile, then she called to mind her brother and the happy estate she had been in and she shed tears secretly. Next day, she turned to the Badawi and said to him, “How couldst thou play me this trick and lure me into these bald and stony mountains, and what is thy design with me?” When he heard her words he hardened his heart and said to her, “O lazy baggage of ill omen and insolent! wilt thou bandy words with me?” and he took the whip and came down with it on her back till she felt faint. Then she bowed down over his feet and kissed5 them; and he left beating her and began reviling her and said, “By the rights of my bonnet,6 if I see or hear thee weeping, I will cut out thy tongue and stuff it up thy coynte, O thou city filth!” So she was silent and made him no reply, for the beating pained her; but sat down with her arms round her knees and, bowing her head upon her collar, began to look into her case and her abasement after her lot of high honour; and the beating she had endured; and she called to mind her brother and his sickness and forlorn condition, and how they were both strangers in a far country, which crave her tears down her cheeks and she wept silently and began repeating,
“Time hath for his wont to upraise and debase,
Nor is lasting condition for human race:
In this world each thing hath appointed turn;
Nor may man transgress his determined place:
How long these perils and woes? Ah woe
For a life, all woeful in parlous case!
Allah bless not the days which have laid me low
I’ the world, with disgrace after so much grace!
My wish is baffled, my hopes cast down,
And distance forbids me to greet his face:
O thou who passeth that dear one’s door,
Say for me, these tears shall flow evermore!”
When she had finished her verses, the Badawi came up to her and, taking compassion on her, bespoke her kindly and wiped away her tears. Then he gave her a barley scone and said, “I love not one who answereth at times when I am in wrath: so henceforth give me no more of these impertinent words and I will sell thee to a good man like myself, who will do well with thee, even as I have done.” “Yes; whatso thou doest is right,” answered she; and when the night was longsome upon her and hunger burnt her, she ate very little of that barley bread. In the middle of the night the Badawi gave orders for departure — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e., “Thou art only just recovered.”
2 To “Nakh” is to gurgle “Ikh! Ikh!” till the camel kneels. Hence the space called “Barr al-Manákhah” in Al–Medinah (Pilgrimage i. 222, ii. 91). There is a regular camel vocabulary amongst the Arabs, made up like our “Gee” (go ye!), etc. of significant words worn down.
3 Arab. “Laza,” the Second Hell provided for Jews.
4 The word has been explained (vol. i. 112).[see Volume 1, note 199] It is trivial, not occurring in the Koran which uses “Arabs of the Desert;” “Arabs who dwell in tents,” etc. (chaps. ix. and xxxiii.). “A’arábi” is the classical word and the origin of “Arab” is disputed. According to Pocock (Notæ Spec. Hist. Arab.): “Diverse are the opinions concerning the denomination of the Arabs; but the most certain of all is that which draws it from Arabah, which is part of the region of Tehama (belonging to Al–Medinah Pilgrimage ii. 118), which their father Ismail afterwards inhabited.” Tehamah (sierra caliente) is the maritime region of Al Hijaz, the Moslems Holy Land; and its “Arabah,” a very small tract which named a very large tract, must not be confounded, as some have done, with the Wady Arabah, the ancient outlet of the Dead Sea. The derivation of “Arab” from “Ya’arab” a fancied son of Joktan is mythological. In Heb. Arabia may be called “Eretz Ereb” (or “Arab”)=land of the West; but in Arabic “Gharb” (not Ereb) is the Occident and the Arab dates long before the Hebrew.
5 “When thine enemy extends his hand to thee, cut it off if thou can, or kiss it,” wisely said Caliph al-Mansur.
6 The Tartur was a peculiar turban worn by the Northern Arabs and shown in old prints. In modern Egypt the term is applied to the tall sugar-loaf caps of felt affected mostly by regular Dervishes. Burckhardt (Proverbs 194 and 398) makes it the high cap of felt or fur proper to the irregular cavalry called Dely or Delaty. In Dar For (Darfour) “Tartur” is a conical cap adorned with beads and cowries worn by the Manghwah or buffoon who corresponds with the Egyptian “Khalbús” or “Maskharah” and the Turkish “Sutari.” For an illustration see Plate iv. fig. 10 of Voyage au Darfour par Mohammed El Tounsy (The Tunisian), Paris, Duprat, 1845.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Badawi gave the barley scone to Nuzhat al-Zaman and promised he would sell her to a good man like himself, she replied, “Whatso thou doest is right!” and, about midnight when hunger burned her,1 she ate a very little of that barley bread and the Badawi ordered his party to set out; so they loaded their loads and he mounted a camel setting Nuzhat al-Zaman behind him. Then they journeyed and ceased not journeying for three days, till they entered the city of Damascus and alighted at the Sultan’s Khan, hard by the Viceroy’s Gate. Now she had lost her colour by grief and the fatigue of such travelling, and she ceased not to weep over her misfortunes. So the Badawi came up to her and said, “O thou city filth, by the right of my bonnet, if thou leave not this weeping, I will sell thee to none but a Jew!” Then he arose and took her by the hand and carried her to a chamber, and walked off to the bazar, and he went round to, the merchants who dealt in slave girls, and began to parley with them, saying, “I have brought a slave girl whose brother fell ill, and I sent him to my people about Jerusalem, that they might tend him till he is cured. As for her I want to sell her, but after the dog her brother fell sick, the separation from him was grievous to her, and since then she doth nothing but weep, and now I wish that whoso is minded to buy her of me speak softly to her and say, ‘Thy brother is with me in Jerusalem ill’; and I will be easy with him about her price.” Then one of the merchants came up to him and asked, “How old is she?” He answered “She is a virgin, just come to marriageable age, and she is endowed with sense and breeding and wit and beauty and loveliness. But from the day I sent her brother to Jerusalem, her heart hath been yearning for him, so that her beauty is fallen away and her value lessened.” Now when the merchant heard this, he set forth with the Badawi and said, “O Shaykh2 of the Arabs, I will go with thee and buy of thee this girl whom thou praisest so highly for wit and manners and beauty and loveliness; and I will pay thee her price but it must be upon conditions which if thou accept, I will give thee ready money, and if thou accept not I will return her to thee.” Quoth the Badawi, “An thou wilt, take her up to the Sultan Sharrkan, son of Omar bin al-Nu’uman lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorasan, and condition me any conditions thou likest, for when thou hast brought her before King Sharrkan, haply she will please him, and he will pay thee her price and a good profit for thyself to boot.” Rejoined the merchant, “It happens that I have just now something to ask from him, and it is this that he write me an order upon the office, exempting me from custom dues and also that he write me a letter of recommendation to his father, King Omar bin al-Nu’uman. So if he take the girl, I will weigh3 thee out her price at once.” “I agree with thee to this condition,” answered the Badawi. So they returned together to the place where Nuzhat al-Zaman was and the wild Arab stood at the chamber door and called out, saying, “O Nájiyah4!” which was the name wherewith he had named her. When she heard him, she wept and made no answer. Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, “There she sitteth; go to her and look at her and speak to her kindly as I enjoined thee.” So the trader went up to her in courteous wise and saw that she was wondrous beautiful and loveable, especially as she knew the Arabic tongue; and he said to the Badawi, “If she be even as thou saddest, I shall get of the Sultan what I will for her.” Then he bespake her, “Peace be on thee, my little maid! How art thou?” She turned to him and replied, “This also was registered in the Book of Destiny.” Then she looked at him and, seeing him to be a man of respectable semblance with a handsome face, she said to herself, “I believe this one cometh to buy me;” and she continued, “If I hold aloof from him, I shall abide with my tyrant and he will do me to death with beating. In any case, this person is handsome of face and maketh me hope for better treatment from him than from my brute of a Badawi. May be he cometh only to hear me talk; so I will give him a fair answer.” All this while her eyes were fixed on the ground; then she raised them to him and said in a sweet voice, “And upon thee be peace, O my lord, and Allah’s mercy and His benediction!5 This is what is commanded of the Prophet, whom Allah bless and preserve! As for thine enquiry how I am, if thou wouldst know my case, it is such as thou wouldst not wish but to thy foe.” And she held her peace. When the merchant heard what she said, his fancy took wings for delight in her and, turning to the Badawi, he asked him, “What is her price, for indeed she is noble?” Thereupon the Badawi waxed angry and answered, “Thou wilt turn me the girl’s head with this talk! Why dost thou say that she is noble,6 while she is of the scum of slave girls and of the refuse of folk? I will not sell her to thee!” When the merchant heard this, he knew the man to be weak of wits and said to him, “Calm thyself, for I will buy her of thee with these blemishes thou mentionest.” “And how much wilt thou give me for her?” enquired the Badawi. Replied the merchant, “Name thy price for her: none should name the son save his sire.” Rejoined the Badawi, “None shall name it but thou thyself.” Quoth the merchant to himself, “This wildling is a rudesby and a maggotty head. By Allah, I cannot tell her price, for she hath won my heart with her fair speech and good looks; and, if she can read and write, it will be complete fair luck to her and to her purchaser. But this Badawi does not know her worth.” Then he turned and said to him, “O Shaykh of the Arabs, I will give thee in ready money, clear of the tax and the Sultan’s dues, two hundred gold pieces.” Now when the Badawi heard this, he flew into a violent rage and cried at the merchant, saying, “Get up and go thy ways! By Allah, wert thou to offer me two hundred diners for the bit of camlet she weareth, I would not sell it to thee. And now I will not sell her, but will keep her by me, to pasture the camels and grind my grist.” And he cried out to her, saying, “Come here, thou stinkard! I will not sell thee.” Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, “I used to think thee a man of judgment; but, by the right of my bonnet, if thou begone not from me, I will let thee hear what shall not please thee!” Quoth the merchant to himself, “Of a truth this Badawi is mad and knoweth not her value, and I will say no more to him about her price at the present time; for by Allah, were he a man of sense, he would not say, ‘By the rights of my bonnet!’ By the Almighty, she is worth the kingdom of the Chosroës and I have not her price by me, but if he ask even more, I will give him what he will, though it be all my goods.” Then he turned and said to him, “O Shaykh of the Arabs, take patience and calm thyself and tell me what clothes she hath with thee?” Cried the Badawi, “And what hath the baggage to do with clothes? By Allah, this camlet in which she is wrapped is ample for her.” “With thy leave,” said the merchant, “I will unveil her face and examine her even as folk examine slave girls whom they think of buying.”7 Replied the other, “Up and do what thou wilt and Allah keep thy youth! Examine her outside and inside and, if thou wilt, strip off her clothes and look at her when she is naked.” Quoth the trader, “Allah forfend! I will look at naught save her face.”8 Then he went up to her and was put to shame by her beauty and loveliness — And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The term is picturesque and true; we say “gnaw,” which is not so good.
2 Here, meaning an Elder, a Chief, etc.; the word has been almost naturalised in English. I have noted that Abraham was the first “Shaykh.”
3 This mention of weighing suggests the dust of Dean Swift and the money of the Gold Coast It was done, I have said, because the gold coin, besides being “sweated” was soft and was soon worn down.
4 Fem. of Nájí (a deliverer, a saviour)=Salvadora.
5 This, I have noted, is according to Koranic command (chaps. iv. 88). “When you are saluted with a salutation, salute the person with a better salutation.” The longer answer to “Peace be with (or upon) thee! “ is still universally the custom. The “Salem” is so differently pronounced by every Eastern nation that the observant traveller will easily make of it a Shibboleth.
6 The Badawi, who was fool as well as rogue, begins to fear that he has kidnapped a girl of family.
7 These examinations being very indecent are usually done in strictest privacy. The great point is to make sure of virginity.
8 This is according to strict Moslem law: the purchaser may not look at the girl’s nakedness till she is his, and he ought to manage matters through an old woman.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchant went up to Nuzhat al-Zaman and was put to shame by her beauty and loveliness, so he sat by her side and asked her, “O my mistress, what is thy name?” She answered, “Doss thou ask what is my name this day or what it was before this day?” Thereupon the merchant enquired, “Hast thou then two names: to day’s and yesterday’s?” “Yes,” replied she, “my name in the past was Nuzhat al-Zaman, the Delight of the Age; but my name at this present is Ghussat1 al-Zaman, the Despight of the Age.” When the merchant heard this his eyes brimmed over with tears and quoth he to her, “Hast thou not a sick brother?” “Ay by Allah, O my lord, I have,” quoth she, “but fortune hath parted me and him and he lieth sick in Jerusalem.” The merchant’s head was confounded at the sweetness of her speech and he said to himself, “Verily, the Badawi spake the truth of her.” Then she called to mind her brother and his sickness and his strangerhood and her separation from him in his hour of weakness and her not knowing what had befallen him; and she thought of all that had happened to her with the Badawi and of her severance from her mother and father and native land; and the tears coursed down her cheeks and fast as they started they dropped; and she began reciting,
“Allah, where’er thou be, His aid impart
To thee, who distant dwellest in my heart!
Allah be near thee how so far thou fare;
Ward off all shifts of
Time, all dangers thwart!
Mine eyes are desolate for thy vanisht sight,
And start my tears-ah me, how fast they start!
Would Heaven I kenned what quarter or what land
Homes thee, and in what house and tribe thou art
An fount of life thou drain in greenth of rose,
While drink I tear drops for my sole desert?
An thou ‘joy slumber in those hours, when I
Peel ‘twixt my side and couch coals’ burning smart?
All things were easy save to part from thee,
For my sad heart this grief is hard to dree.”
When the merchant heard her verses, he wept and put out his hand to wipe away the tears from her cheeks; but she let down her veil over her face, saying, “Heaven forbid, O my lord!’’2 Then the Badawi, who was sitting at a little distance watching them, saw her cover her face from the merchant while about to wipe the tears from her cheeks; and he concluded that she would have hindered him from handling her: so he rose and running to her, dealt her, with a camel’s halter he had in his hand, such a blow on the shoulders that she fell to the ground on her face. Her eyebrow struck a stone which cut it open, and the blood streamed down her cheeks; whereupon she screamed a loud scream and felt faint and wept bitterly. The merchant was moved to tears for her and said in himself, “There is no help for it but that I buy this damsel, though at her weight in gold, and free her from this tyrant.” And he began to revile the Badawi whilst Nazhat al-Zaman lay in sensible. When she came to herself, she wiped away the tears and blood from her face; and she bound up her head: then, raising her glance to heaven, she besought her Lord with a sorrowful heart and began repeating,
“And pity one who erst in honour throve,
And now is fallen into sore disgrace.
She weeps and bathes her cheeks with railing tears,
And asks ‘What cure can meet this fatal case?’”
When she had ended her verse, she turned to the merchant and said in an undertone, “By the Almighty, do not leave me with a tyrant who knoweth not Allah the Most High! If I pass this night in his place, I shall kill myself with my own hand: save me from him, so Allah save thee from Gehenna-fire.” Then quoth the merchant to the Badawi, “O Shaykh of the Arabs, this slave is none of thine affair; so do thou sell her to me for what thou wilt.” “Take her,” quoth the Badawi, “and pay me down her price, or I will carry her back to the camp and there set her to feed the camels and gather their dung.”3 Said the merchant, “I will give thee fifty thousand diners for her.” “Allah will open!”4 replied the Badawi. “Seventy thousand,” said the merchant. “Allah will open!” repeated the Badawi: “this is not the capital spent upon her, for she hath eaten with me barley bread to the value of ninety thousand gold pieces.” The merchant rejoined, “Thou and thine and all thy tribe in the length of your lives have not eaten a thousand ducats’ worth of barley; but I will say thee one word, wherewith if thou be not satisfied, I will set the Viceroy of Damascus on thee and he will take her from thee by force.” The Badawi continued, “Say on!” “An hundred thousand,” quoth the merchant. “I have sold her to thee at that price,” answered the Badawi; “I shall be able to buy salt with her.” The merchant laughed and, going to his lodgings, brought the money and put it into the hand of the Badawi, who took it and made off, saying to himself, “Needs must I go to Jerusalem where, haply, I shall happen on her brother, and I will bring him here and sell him also.” So he mounted and journeyed till he arrived at Jerusalem, where he went to the Khan and asked for Zau al-Makan, but could not find him. Such was the case with him; but for what regards the merchant and Nazhat al-Zaman, when he took her he threw some of his clothes over her and carried her to his lodgings — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lit. wrath; affliction which chokes; in Hindustani it means simply anger.
2 i.e. Heaven forbid I be touched by a strange man.
3 Used for fuel and other purposes, such as making “doss stick.”
4 Arab “Yaftah’Allah” the offer being insufficient. The rascal is greedy as a Badaw and moreover he is a liar, which the Badawi is not.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the trader saved Nuzhat al-Zaman from the Badawi and bore her to his lodgings and robed her in the richest raiment, he went down with her to the bazar, where he bought her what ornaments she chose and put them in a satin bag, which he set before her, saying, “All is for thee and I ask nothing of thee in return but that, when I lead thee to the Sultan, Viceroy of Damascus, thou acquaint him with the price I paid for thee, albeit it was little compared with thy value: and, if seeing thee he buy thee of me, thou tell him how I have dealt with thee and ask of him for me a royal patent, and a written recommendation wherewith I can repair to his father, King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, Lord of Baghdad, to the intent that he may forbid the tax on my stuffs or any other goods in which I traffic.” When she heard his words, she wept and sobbed, and the merchant said to her, “O my lady, I observe that, every time I mention Baghdad, thine eyes are tearful: is there any one there whom thou lovest? If it be a trader or the like, tell me; for I know all the merchants and so forth there and, if thou wouldst send him a message, I will bear it for thee.” Replied she, “By Allah, I have no acquaintance among merchant folk and the like! I know none there but King Omar bin Nu’uman, Lord of Baghdad.” When the merchant heard her words, he laughed and rejoiced with exceeding joy and said in himself, “By Allah, I have won my wish!” Then he said to her, “Hast thou been shown to him in time past?” She answered, “No, but I was brought up with his daughter and he holdeth me dear and I have high honour with him; so if thou wouldst have the King grant thee thy desire, give me ink case and paper and I will write thee a letter; and when thou reachest the city of Baghdad, do thou deliver it into the hand of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and say to him, ‘Thy handmaid, Nuzhat al-Zaman, would have thee to know that the chances and changes of the nights and days have struck her as with a hammer, and have smitten her so that she hath been sold from place to place, and she sendeth thee her salams.’ And, if he ask further of her, say that I am now with the Viceroy at Damascus.” The merchant wondered at her eloquence, and his affection for her increased and he said to her I cannot but think that men have played upon thine understanding and sold thee for money. Tell me, dost thou know the Koran by heart?” “Yes,” answered she; “and I am also acquainted with philosophy and medicine and the prolegomena of science and the commentaries of Galen, the physician, on the canons of Hippocrates; and I have commented him and I have read the Tazkirah and have commented the Burhán; and I have studied the Simples of Ibn Baytár, and I have something to say of the canon of Meccah, by Avicenna. I can ree riddles and can solve ambiguities, and discourse upon geometry and am skilled in anatomy I have read the books of the Sháfi’í1 school and the Traditions of the Prophet and syntax; and I can argue with the Olema and discourse of all manner learning. Moreover I am skilled in logic and rhetoric and arithmetic and the making of talismans and almanacs, and I know thoroughly the Spiritual Sciences2 and the times appointed for religious duties and I understand all these branches of knowledge.” Then quoth she to the merchant, “Bring me ink case and paper, that I write thee a letter which shall aid thee on thy journey to Baghdad and enable thee to do without passports.” Now when the merchant heard this, he cried out “Brava! Brava!3 Then O happy he in whose palace thou shalt! Thereupon he brought her paper and ink case and a pen of brass and bussed the earth before her face to do her honour. She took a sheet and handled the reed and wrote therewith these verses,
“I see all power of sleep from eyes of me hath flown;
Say, did thy parting teach these eyne on wake to wone?
What makes thy memory light such burnings in my heart?
Hath every lover strength such memories to own?
How sweet the big dropped cloud which rained on summer day;
’Tis gone and ere I taste its sweets afar ’tis flown:
I pray the wind with windy breath to bring some news
From thee, to lover wightwi’ love so woe begone
Complains to thee a lover of all hope forlorn,
For parting pangs can break not only heart but stone.”
And when she had ended writing the verses she continued, “These words are from her who saith that melancholy destroyeth her and that watching wasteth her; in the murk of whose night is found no light and darkness and day are the same in her sight. She tosseth on the couch of separation and her eyes are blackened with the pencils of sleeplessness; she watcheth the stars arise and into the gloom she strains her eyes: verily, sadness and leanness have consumed her strength and the setting forth of her case would run to length. No helper hath she but tears and she reciteth these verses,
‘No ring dove moans from home on branch in morning light,
But shakes my very frame with sorrow’s killing might:
No lover sigheth for his love or gladdeth heart
To meet his mate, but breeds in me redoubled blight
I bear my plaint to one who has no ruth for me,
Ah me, how Love can part man’s mortal frame and sprite!’ ”
Then her eyes welled over with tears, and she wrote also these two couplets,
“Love smote my frame so sore on parting day,
That severance severed sleep and eyes for aye.
I waxt so lean that I am still a man,
But for my speaking, thou wouldst never say.”
Then she shed tears and wrote at the foot of the sheet, “This cometh from her who is far from her folk and her native land, the sorrowful hearted woman Nuzhat al-Zaman.” In fine, she folded the sheet and gave it to the merchant, who took it and kissed it and understood its contents and exclaimed, “Glory to Him who fashioned thee!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The third of the four great Moslem schools of Theology, taking its name from the Imam al-Sháfi’í (Mohammed ibn Idrís) who died in Egypt A.H. 204, and lies buried near Cairo. (Sale’s Prel. Disc. sect. viii.)
2 The Moslem form of Cabbala, or transcendental philosophy of the Hebrews.
3 Arab. “Bakh” the word used by the Apostle to Ali his son-in-law. It is the Latin “Euge.”
She said, It reached me, O auspicious King, that Nuzhat al-Zaman wrote the letter and gave it to the merchant; and he took it and read it and understood the contents and exclaimed, “Glory to Him who fashioned thee!” Then he redoubled his kindness and made himself pleasant to her all that day, and when night came he sallied out to the bazar and bought some food, wherewith he fed her; after which he carried her to the Hammam and said to the bath woman, “As soon as thou hast made an end of washing her head, dress her and send and let me know of it.” And she replied “Hearing is obeying.” Meanwhile he fetched food and fruit and wax candles and set them on the bench in the outer room of the bath; and when the tire woman had done washing her, she dressed her and led her out of the bath and seated her on the bench. Then she sent to tell the merchant, and Nuzhat al-Zaman went forth to the outer room, where she found the tray spread with food and fruit. So she ate and the tire woman with her, and gave the rest to the people and keeper of the bath. Then she slept till the morning, and the merchant lay the night in a place apart from her. When he aroused himself from sleep he came to her and waking her, presented her with a shift of fine stuff and a head kerchief worth a thousand diners, a suit of Turkish embroidery and walking boots purfled with red gold and set with pearls and gems. Moreover, he hung in each of her ears a circlet of gold with a fine pearl therein, worth a thousand diners, and threw round her neck a collar of gold with bosses of garnet and a chain of amber beads that hung down between her breasts over her navel. Now to this chain were attached ten balls and nine crescents, and each crescent had in its midst a bezel of ruby, and each ball a bezel of balass: the value of the chain was three thousand diners and each of the balls was priced at twenty thousand dirhams, so that the dress she wore was worth in all a great sum of money. When she had put these on, the merchant bade her adorn herself, and she adorned herself to the utmost beauty; then she let fall her fillet over her eyes and she fared forth with the merchant preceding her. But when folk saw her, all wondered at her beauty and exclaimed, “Blessed be Allah, the most excellent Creator! O lucky the man in whose house the hall be!” And the trader ceased not walking (and she behind him) till they entered the palace of Sultan Sharrkan; when he sought an audience and, kissing the earth between his hands, said, “O auspicious King, I have brought thee a rare gift, unmatched in this time and richly gifted with beauty and with good qualities.” Quoth the King, “Let me see it.” So the merchant went out and brought her, she following him till he made her stand before King Sharrkan. When he beheld her, blood yearned to blood, though she had been parted from him in childhood and though he had never seen her, having only heard a long time after her birth that he had a sister called Nuzhat al-Zaman and a brother Zau al-Makan, he having been jealous of them, because of the succession. And such was the cause of his knowing little about them. Then, having placed her before the presence, the merchant said, “O King of the age, besides being peerless in her time and beauty and loveliness, she is also versed in all learning, sacred and profane, including the art of government and the abstract sciences.” Quoth the King to the trader, “Take her price, according as thou boughtest her, and go thy ways.” “I hear and I obey,” replied the merchant; “but first write me a patent, exempting me for ever from paying tithe on my merchandise.” Said the King, “I will do this, but first tell me what price thou paidest for her.” Said the merchant, “I bought her for an hundred thousand diners, and her clothes cost me another hundred thousand.” When the Sultan heard these words, he declared, “I will give thee a higher price than this for her;” and, calling his treasurer, said to him, “Pay this merchant three hundred and twenty thousand ducats; so will he have an hundred and twenty thousand diners profit.” Thereupon the Sultan summoned the four Kazis and paid him the money in their presence and then he said, “I call you to witness that I free this my slave girl and purpose to marry her.” So the Kazis wrote out the deed of emancipation and the contract of marriage, when the Sultan scattered much gold on the heads of those present; and the pages and the eunuchs picked up this largesse. Then, after paying him his monies, Sharrkan bade them write for the merchant a perpetual patent, exempting him from toll, tax or tithe upon his merchandise and forbidding each and every in all his government to molest him, and lastly bestowed on him a splendid dress of honour. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Sharrkan bade them write for the merchant a mandate, after paying him his monies; and they wrote a perpetual patent, exempting him from the tithe upon his merchandise and forbidding any in his government to molest him; and lastly bestowed upon him a splendid dress of honour. Then all about him retired, and none remained save the Kazis and the merchant, whereupon said he to the judges, “I wish you to hear such discourse from this damsel as may prove her knowledge and accomplishments in all aimed for her by this trader, that we ascertain the truth of his assertions.” They answered, “There is no evil in that!”; and he commanded the curtain to be let down between him and those with him and the maiden and those with her; and the women about the damsel behind the curtains began to wish her joy and kiss her hands and feet, when they learned that she was become the King’s wife. Then they came round her and took off her dresses easing her of the weight of her clothes and began to look upon her beauty and loveliness. Presently the wives of the Emirs and Wazirs heard that King Sharrkan had bought a hand maiden unmatched for her beauty and learning and philosophy and account keeping, and versed in all branches of knowledge, that he had paid for her three hundred and twenty thousand dinars, and that he had set her free and had written a marriage contract with her and had summoned the four Kazis to make trial of her, how she would answer all their questions and hold disputetion with them. So they asked leave of their husbands and repaired to the palace wherein was Nuzhat al-Zaman. When they came in to her, they found the eunuchs standing before her; and, as soon as she saw the wives of the Emirs and Wazirs and Grandees of the realm coming to call upon her, she arose to them on her feet and met them with courtesy, her handmaidens standing behind her, and she received them saying, “Ye be welcome!” The while she smiled in their faces so as to win their hearts; and she promised them all manner of good and seated them in their proper stations, as if she had been brought up with them; so all wondered at her beauty and loveliness and said to one another, “This damsel is none other than a Queen, the daughter of a King.” Then they sat down, magnifying her worth and said to her, “O our lady, this our city is illumined by thee, and our country and abode and birth place and reign are honoured by thy presence. The kingdom indeed is thy kingdom and the palace is thy palace, and we all are thy handmaids; so, by Allah, do not shut us out from thy favours and the sight of thy beauty.” And she thanked them for this. All this while the curtains were let down between Nuzhat al-Zaman and the women with her, on the one side, and King Sharrkan and the four Kazis and the merchant seated by him on the other. Presently King Sharrkan called to her and said, “O Queen, the glory of thine age, this merchant hath described thee as being learned and accomplished; and he claimeth that thou art skilled in all branches of knowledge, even to astrology: so let us hear something of all this he hath mentioned, and favour us with a short discourse on such subjects.” She replied, saying: “O King, to hear is to obey.1 The first subjects whereof I will treat are the art of government and the duties of Kings and what behoveth governors of command meets according to religious law, and what is incumbent on them in respect of satisfactory speech and manners. Know then, O King, that all men’s works tend either to religious or to laical life, for none attaineth to religion save through this world, because it is the best road to futurity. Now the works of this world are not ordered save by the doings of its people, and men’s doings are divided into four divisions, government, commerce, husbandry and craftsmanship. Now government requireth perfect administration with just and true judgment; for government is the pivot of the edifice of the world, which world is the road to futurity; since Allah Almighty hath made the world for His servants as viaticum to the traveller for the attainment of his goal; and it befitteth each man that he receive of it such measure as shall bring him to Allah, and that he follow not herein his own mind and his individual lust. If folk would take of worldly goods with justice and equity, all cause of contention would be cut off; but they take thereof with violence ant after their own desires, and their persistence therein giveth rise to contentions; so they have need of the Sultan, that he do justice between them and order their affairs; and, if the King restrain not his folk from one another, the strong will drive the weak to the wall. Hence Ardeshir2 saith, ‘Religion and Kingship be twins’; religion is a hidden treasure and the King is its keeper; and the Divine Ordinances and men’s intelligence point out that it behoveth the people to adopt a Sultan who shall withhold oppressor from oppressed and do the weak justice against the strong and restrain the violence of the proud and the rebels against rule. For know, O King, that according to the measure of the Sultan’s good morals, even so will be the time; as saith the Apostle of Allah (on whom be peace and salvation!), ‘There be two classes who, if they be good, the people will be good; and if they be bad, the people will be bad, even the Olema and the Emirs.’ And it is said by a certain sage, ‘There be three kinds of Kings, the King of the Faith, the King who protecteth things to which reverence is due, and the King of his own lusts.’ The King of the Faith obligeth his subjects to follow their faith, and it behoveth he be the most faithful,3 for it is by him that they take pattern in the things of the Faith; and it becometh the folk to obey him in whatso he commandeth according to Divine Ordinance; but he shall hold the discontented in the same esteem as the contented, because of submission to the decrees of Destiny. As for the King who protecteth things to be reverenced, he upholdeth the things of the Faith and of the World and compelleth his folk to follow the Divine Law and to preserve the rights of humanity; and it fitteth him to unite Pen and Sword; for whoso declineth from what Pen hath written his feet slip and the King shall rectify his error with the sharp Sword and dispread his justice over all mankind. As for the King of his own lusts, he hath no religion but the following his desire and, as he feareth not the wrath of his Lord who set him on the throne, so his Kingdom inclineth to deposition and the end of his pride is in the house of perdition. And sages say, ‘The King hath need of many people, but the people have need of but one King’ wherefore it beseemeth that he be well acquainted with their natures, that he reduce their discord to concord, that with his justice be encompass them all and with his bounties overwhelm them all. And know, O King, that Ardeshir, styled Jamr Shadíd, or the Live Coal, third of the Kings of Persia, conquered the whole world and divided it into four divisions and, for this purpose, get for himself four seal rings, one for each division. The first seal was that of the sea and the police of prohibition and on it was written, Alterna lives. The second was the seal of tribute and of the receipt of monies, and on it was written, Building up. The third was the seal of the provisioning department and on it was written, Plenty. The fourth was the seal of the oppressed, and on it was written, Justice. And these usages remained valid in Persia until the revelation of Al–Islam. Chosroës also wrote his son, who was with the army, ‘Be not thou too open handed with thy troops, or they will be too rich to need thee.’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Readers, who read for amusement, will do well to “skip” the fadaises of this highly educated young woman.
2 There are three Persian Kings of this name (Artaxerxes) which means “Flour and milk,” or “high lion.” The text alludes to Ardeshir Babegan, so called because he married the daughter of Babak the shepherd, founder of the Sassanides in A.D. 202. See D,Herberot, and the Dabistan.
3 Alluding to the proverb, “Folk follow their King’s faith,” “Cujus regio ejus religio” etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Chosroës wrote his son, ‘Be not thou too open handed with thy troops, or they will be too rich to need thee; nor be thou niggardly with them, or they will murmur against thee. Give thy giving deliberately and confer thy favours advisedly; open thy hand to them in time of success and stint them not in time of distress.’ There is a legend that a desert Arab came once to the Caliph Al-Mansúr1 and said, ‘Starve thy dog and he shall follow thee.’ When the Caliph heard his words, he was enraged with the Arab, but Abu ‘l-Abbás of Tús said to him, ‘I fear that if some other than thou should show him a scone, the dog would follow him and leave thee alone.’ Thereupon the Caliph Al–Mansur’s wrath subsided and he knew that the wild Arab had intended no offence and ordered him a present. And know, O King, that Abd al-Malik bin Marwán wrote to his brother Abd al-Azíz, when he despatched him to Egypt, as follows, ‘Pay heed to thy Secretaries and thy Chamberlains, for the Secretaries will acquaint thee with estate fished matters and the Chamberlains with matters of official ceremony, whilst thine expenditure will make thy troops known to thee.’ Omar bin Al–Khattáb2 (whom Allah accept!) when engaging a servant was in the habit of conditioning him with four conditions; the first that he should not ride the baggage beasts, the second that he should not wear fine clothes, the third that he should not eat of the spoil and the fourth that he should not put off praying till after the proper period. It is said that there is no wealth more profitable than understanding, and there is no understanding like common sense and prudence, and there is no prudence like piety; that there is no means of drawing near to God like good morals, no measure like good breeding, no traffic like good works and no profit like earning the Divine favour; that there is no temperance like standing within the limits of the law, no science like that of meditation, no worship like obeying the Divine commends, no faith like modesty, no calculation like self abasement and no honour like knowledge. So guard the head and what it containeth and the belly and what it compriseth; and think of death and doom ere it ariseth. Saith Ali (whose face Allah honour!), ‘Beware of the wickedness of women and be on thy guard against them: consult them not in aught;3 but grudge not complaisance to them, lest they greed for intrigue.’ And eke quoth he, ‘Whoso leaveth the path of moderation his wits become perplexed’; and there be rules for this which we will mention, if it be Allah’s will. And Omar (whom Allah accept!) saith, ‘There are three kinds of women, firstly the true believing, Heaven fearing, love full and fruit full, who helpeth her mate against fate, not helping fate against her mate; secondly, she who loveth her children but no more and, lastly, she who is a shackle Allah setteth on the neck of whom He will.’ Men be also three: the wise when he exerciseth his own judgement; the wiser who, when befalleth somewhat whereof he knoweth not the issue, seeketh folk of good counsel and acteth by their advice; and the unwise irresolute ignoring the right way nor heeding those who would guide him straight. Justice is indispensable in all things; even slave girls have need of justice; and men quote as an instance highway robbers who live by violenting mankind, for did they not deal equitably among themselves and observe justice in dividing their booty, their order would fall to pieces.4 In short, for the rest, the Prince of noble qualities is Beneficence cum Benevolence; and how excellent is the saying of the poet,
By open hand and ruth the youth rose to his tribe’s command;
Go and do likewise for the same were easy task to thee.’
And quoth another,
‘In ruth and mildness surety lies and mercy wins respect,
And Truth is best asylum for the man of soothfast soul:
Whoso for wealth of gold would win and wear the world’s good word,
On glory’s course must ever be the first to gain the goal.’”
And Nazhat al-Zaman discoursed upon the policy of Kings till the bystanders said, “Never have we seen one reason of rule and government like this damsel! Haply she will let us hear some discourse upon subject other than this.” When she heard their words and understood them she said, “As for the chapter of good breeding, it is wide of comprehension, being a compend of things perfect. Now it so happened that one day there came to the Caliph Mu’áwiyah5 one of his companions, who mentioned the people of Irak and the goodness of their wit; and the Caliph’s wife Maysún, mother of Yezíd, heard his words. So, when he was gone, she said to the Caliph, ‘O Prince of the Faithful, I would thou let some of the people of Irak come in and talk to thee, that I may hear their discourse.’ Therewith Mu’awiyah said to his attendants, ‘See who is at the door?’ And they answered, ‘The Banu Tamim.’ ‘Let them come in,’ said he. So they came in and with them Al–Ahnáf son of Kays.6 Then quoth Mu’awiyah, ‘Enter, O Abu Bahr,’ and drew a curtain between himself and Maysun, that she might hear what they said without being seen herself; then he said to Al–Ahnaf, ‘O Son of the Sea, draw near and tell me what counsel thou hast for me.’ Quoth Al–Ahnaf, ‘Part thy hair and trim thy moustachio and pare thy nails and pluck thine armpits and shave thy pubes7 and ever use the toothstick because therein be two and seventy virtues, and make the Ghusl or complete ablution on Friday, as an expiation for all between the Fridays.’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Second Abbaside, A.H. 136–158 (=754–775).
2 The celebrated companion of Mohammed who succeeded Abu Bakr in the Caliphate (A.H. 13–23=634–644). The Sunnis know him as Al–Adil the Just, and the Shiahs detest him for his usurpation, his austerity and harshness. It is said that he laughed once and wept once. The laugh was caused by recollecting how he ate his dough-gods (the idols of the Hanifah tribe) in The Ignorance. The tears were drawn by remembering how he buried alive his baby daughter who, while the grave was being dug, patted away the dust from his hair and beard. Omar was doubtless a great man, but he is one of the most ungenial figures in Moslem history which does not abound in genialities. To me he suggests a Puritan, a Covenanter of the sourest and narrowest type; and I cannot wonder that the Persians abhor him, and abuse him on all occasions.
3 The austere Caliph Omar whose scourge was more feared than the sword was the — author of the celebrated saying “Consult them (feminines) and do clear contrary-wise.”
4 Our “honour amongst thieves.”
5 The sixth successor of Mohammed and founder of the Banu Umayyah or Ommiades, called the “sons of the little mother” from their eponymus (A.H. 41–60=661–680). For his Badawi wife Maysun, and her abuse of her husband, see Pilgrimage iii. 262.
6 Shaykh of the noble tribe, or rather nation, Banu Tamím and a notable of the day, surnamed, no one knows why, “Sire of the Sea.”
7 This is essential for cleanliness in hot lands: however much the bath may be used, the body-pile and lower hair, if submitted to a microscope, will show more or less sordes adherent. The axilla-hair is plucked because if shaved the growing pile causes itching and the depilatories are held deleterious. At first vellication is painful but the skin becomes used to it. The pecten is shaved either without or after using depilatories, of which more presently. The body-pile is removed by “Takhfíf”; the Libán Shámi (Syrian incense), a fir — gum imported from Scio, is melted and allowed to cool in the form of a pledget. This is passed over the face and all the down adhering to it is pulled up by the roots (Burckhardt No. 420). Not a few Anglo–Indians have adopted these precautions
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ahnaf bin Kays replied to Al–Mu’awiyah’s1 question, ‘And ever use the toothstick, because therein be two end seventy virtues and make the complete Friday ablution as an expiation for all between the two Fridays.’ Quoth Mu’awiyah, ‘What is thy counsel to thyself?’ ‘To set my feet firmly on the ground, to move them deliberately and watch over them with mine eyes!’ ‘How dost thou order thyself when thou goest in to one not of the nobles of thy tribe?’ ‘I lower mine eyes modestly and I salute first; I avoid what concerneth me not and I spare my words!’ ‘And how when thou goest in to thine equals?’ ‘I give ear to them when they speak and I do not assail them when they err!’ ‘When thou goest in to thy chiefs?’ ‘I salute without making any sign and await the reply: if they bid me draw near, I draw near, and if they draw off from me I withdraw!’ ‘How dost thou with thy wife?’ Quoth Ahnaf, ‘Excuse me from answering this, O Commander of the Faithful!’; but Mu’awiyah cried, ‘I conjure thee inform me.’ He said, ‘I entreat her kindly and show her familiarity and am large in expenditure, for woman was created of a crooked rib.’2 ‘And how dost thou when thou hast a mind to lie with her?’ ‘I bid her perfume herself and kiss her till she is moved to desire; then, should it be as thou knowest,3 I throw her on her back. If the seed abide in her womb I say, ‘O Allah make it blessed and let it not be a wastrel, but fashion it into the best of fashions!’4 Then I rise from her to ablution and first I pour water over my hands and then over my body and lastly, I praise Allah for the joy He hath given me.’ Said Mu’awiyah, ‘Thou hast answered right well and now tell me what be thy requirements?’ Said Ahnaf, ‘I would have thee rule thy subjects in the fear of Allah and do even handed justice between them.’ Thereupon Ahnaf rose to his feet and left the Caliph’s presence, and when he had gone Maysun said, ‘Were there but this man in Irak, he would suffice to it.’ Then continued Nuzhat al-Zaman, “And all this is a section of the chapter of good breeding, and know O King, that Muaykib was intendant of the public treasury during the Caliphate of Omar bin al-Khattáb,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This Caliph was a tall, fair, handsome man of awe-inspiring aspect. Omar used to look at him and say, “This is the Cæsar of the Arabs,” while his wife called him a “fatted ass.”
2 The saying is attributed to Abraham when “exercised” by the unkindly temper of Sarah; “woman is made hard and crooked like a rib;” and the modern addition is, “whoso would straighten her, breaketh her.”
3 i.e. “When ready and in erection.”
4 “And do first (before going in to your wives) some act which may be profitable unto your souls” or, for you: soul’s good. (Koran, chaps. ii. 223.) Hence Ahnaf makes this prayer.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nuzhat al-Zaman continued, “Know, O King, that Mu’aykib was intendant of the public treasury during the Caliphate of Omar bin al-Khattab; and it so befel him that he saw Omar’s son and gave him a dirham out of the treasury. Thereupon, quoth Mu’aykib, ‘I returned to my own house, and while I was sitting there behold, a messenger came to me from Omar and I was afraid and went to him, and when I came into his presence, in his hand was the dirham I had given his son. He said to me, ‘Woe to thee Mu’aykib! I have found somewhat concerning thy soul.’ I asked ‘And what is that?’; and he answered, ‘It is that thou hast shown thyself a foe to the followers of Mohammed (on whom be peace and salvation!) in the matter of this dirham, and thou wilt have to account for it on Resurrection Day.’1 And Omar also wrote a letter to Abú Músá al-Ashári2 as follows, ‘When these presents reach thee, give the people what is theirs and remit to me the rest.’ And he did so. Now when Othman succeeded to the Caliphate, he wrote a like letter to Abu Musa, who did his bidding and sent him the tribute accordingly, and with it came Ziyád.3 And when Ziyad laid the tribute before Othman, the Caliph’s son came in and took a dirham, whereupon Ziyad shed tears. Othman asked ‘Why weepest thou?’; and Ziyad answered, ‘I once brought Omar bin al-Khattab the like of this and his son took a dirham, where upon Omar bade snatch it from his hand. Now thy son hath taken of the tribute, yet I have seen none say aught to him or snatch the money from him.’ Then Othman4 cried, ‘And where wilt thou find the like of Omar?’ Again Zayd bin Aslam relates of his father that he said, ‘I went out one night with Omar till we approached a blazing fire. Quoth Omar, ‘O Aslam, I think these must be travellers who are suffering from the cold. Come, let us join them.’ So we walked on till we came to them and behold! we found a woman who had lighted a fire under a cauldron and by her side were two children, both a wailing. Said Omar, ‘Peace be with you, O folk of light (for it was repugnant to him to say ‘folk of fire’),5 what aileth you?’ Said she, ‘The cold and the night trouble us.’ He asked, ‘What aileth these little people that they weep?’; and she answered, ‘They are hungry.’ He enquired, ‘And what is in this cauldron?’; and she replied, ‘It is what I quiet them withal, and Allah will question Omar bin al-Khattab of them, on the Day of Doom.’ He said, ‘And what should Omar know of their case?’ ‘Why then,’ rejoined she, ‘should he manage people’s affairs and yet be unmindful of them?’ Thereupon Omar turned to me (continned Aslam) and cried, ‘Come with us!’ So we set off running till we reached the pay department of his treasury, where he took out a sack containing flour and a pot holding fat and said to me, ‘Load these on my back!’ Quoth I, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I will carry them for thee.’ He rejoined, ‘Wilt thou bear my load for me on the Day of Resurrection?’ So I put the things on his back, and we set off, running, till we threw down the sack hard by her. Then he took out some of the flour and put it in the cauldron; and, saying to the woman, ‘Leave it to me,’ he began blowing the fire under the cauldron. Now he was a long bearded man6 and I saw the smoke issuing from between the hairs of his beard till the flour was cooked, when he took some of the fat and threw it in and said to the woman, ‘Bed them while I cool it for them.’ So they fell to eating till they had eaten their fill, and he left the rest with her. Then he turned to me and said, ‘O Aslam, I see it was indeed hunger made them weep; and I am glad I did not go away ere I found out the cause of the light I saw.’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 It was popularly said that “Truth-speaking left Omar without a friend.” Entitled “The Just” he was murdered by Abu Lúlúah, alias Fírúz, a (Magian?) slave of Al–Maghírah for denying him justice.
2 Governor of Bassorah under the first four Caliphs. See D’Herbelot s.v. “Aschári.”
3 Ziyad bin Abi Sufyan, illegitimate brother of the Caliph Mu’awiyah afterwards governor of Bassorah, Cufa and Al–Hijaz.
4 The seditions in Kufah were mainly caused by the wilful nepotism of Caliph Othman bin Asákir which at last brought about his death. His main quality seems to have been personal beauty: “never was seen man or woman of fairer face than he and he was the most comely of men:” he was especially famed for beautiful teeth which in old age he bound about with gold wire. He is described as of middling stature, large — limbed, broad shouldered, fleshy of thigh and long in the fore-arm which was hairy. His face inclined to yellow and was pock-marked; his beard was full and his curly hair, which he dyed yellow, fell below his ears. He is called “writer of the Koran” from his edition of the M.S., and “Lord of the two Lights” because he married two of the Prophet’s daughters, Rukayyah and Umm Kulthum; and, according to the Shi’ahs who call him Othman-i-Lang or” limping Othman,” he vilely maltreated them. They justify his death as the act of an Ijmá’ al-Muslimín, the general consensus of Moslems which ratifies “Lynch law.” Altogether Othman is a mean figure in history.
5 “Nár” (fire) is a word to be used delicately from its connection with Gehenna. You say, e.g. “bring me a light, a coal (bassah)” etc.; but if you say “bring me fire! “ the enemy will probably remark “He wanteth fire even before his time!” The slang expression would be “bring the sweet.” (Pilgrimage i. 121.)
6 Omar is described as a man of fair complexion, and very ruddy, but he waxed tawny with age, when he also became bald and grey. He had little hair on the cheeks but a long mustachio with reddish ends. In stature he overtopped the people and was stout as he was tall. A popular saying of Mohammed’s is, “All (very) long men are fools save Omar, and all (very) short men are knaves save Ali.” The Persians, who abhor Omar, compare every lengthy, ungainly, longsome thing with him; they will say, “This road never ends, like the entrails of Omar.” We know little about Ali’s appearance except that he was very short and stout, broad and full-bellied with a tawny complexion and exceedingly hairy, his long beard, white as cotton, filling all the space between his shoulders. He was a “pocket. Hercules,” and incredible tales, like that about the gates of Khaybar, are told of his strength. Lastly, he was the only Caliph who bequeathed anything to literature: his “Cantiloquium” is famous and he has left more than one mystical and prophetic work. See Ockley for his “Sentences” and D’Herbelot s. D. “Ali” and “Gebr.” Ali is a noble figure in Moslem history.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nuzhat al-Zaman continued, “It is related that Omar passed by a flock of sheep, kept by a Mameluke, and asked him to sell him a sheep. He answered, ‘They are not mine.’ ‘Thou art the man I sought,’ said Omar, and bought him and freed him; whereupon the slave exclaimed, ‘O Allah, as thou hast bestowed on me the lesser emancipation; so vouchsafe me the greater!’1 It is also said that Omar bin al — Khattab was wont to give his servants sweet milk and himself eat coarse fare, and to clothe them softly and himself wear rough garments. He rendered unto all men their due, and exceeded in his giving to them. He once gave a man four thousand dirhams and added thereto a thousand, wherefore it was said to him, ‘Why dost thou not increase to thy son as thou increasest to this man?’ He answered, ‘This man’s father stood firm at the battle day of Ohod.’2 Al–Hasan relates that Omar once came back from foray with much money, and that Hafsah3 approached him and said, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, the due of kinship!’ ‘O Hafsah!’ replied he, ‘verily Allah hath enjoined us to satisfy the dues of kinship, but not with the monies of the True Believers. Indeed, thou pleasest” thy family, but thou angerest thy father.’ And she went away trailing her skirts.4 The son of Omar said, ‘I implored the Lord to show me my father one year after his death, till at last I saw him wiping the sweat from his brow and asked him, ‘How is it with thee, O my father?’ He answered, ‘But for my Lord’s mercy thy father surely had perished.’ Then said Nuzhat al-Zaman, “Hear, O auspicious King, the second division of the first chapter of the instances of the followers of the Apostle and other holy men. Saith Al Hasan al-Basrí,5 Not a soul of the sons of Adam goeth forth of the world without regretting three things — failure to enjoy what he hath amassed, failure to compass what he hoped, failure to provide himself with sufficient viaticum for that hereto he goeth. 6 It was said of Sufyan,7 ‘Can a man be a religious and yet possess wealth?’ He replied, ‘Yes, so he be patient when grieved and be thankful when he hath received.’ Abdullah bin Shaddád, being about to die, sent for his son Mohammed and admonished him, saying, ‘O my son, I see the Summoner of Death summoning me, and so I charge thee to fear Allah both in public and private, to praise Allah and to be soothfastin thy speech, for such praise bringeth increase of prosperity, and piety in itself is the best of provision for the next world; even as saith one of the poets,
‘I see not happiness lies in gathering gold;
The man most pious is man happiest:
In truth the fear of God is best of stores,
And God shall make the pious choicely blest.’
Then quoth Nuzhat al-Zaman, “Let the King also give ear to these notes from the second section of the first chapter.” He asked her ‘What be they?’; and she answered, “When Omar bin Abd al-Azíz 8 succeeded to the Caliphate, he went to his household and laying hands on all that was in their hold, put it into the public treasury. So the Banu Umayyah flew for aid to his father’s sister, Fátimah, daughter of Marwan, and she sent to him saying, ‘I must needs speak to thee.’ So she came to him by night and, when he had made her alight from her beast and sit down, he said to her, ‘O aunt, it is for thee to speak first, since thou hast some thing to ask: tell me then what thou wouldst with me.’ Replied she, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, it is thine to speak first, for thy judgment perceiveth that which is hidden from the intelligence of others.’ Then said Omar, ‘Of a verity Allah Almighty sent Mohammed as a blessing to some and a bane to others; and He elected for him those with him, and commissioned him as His Apostle and took him to Himself,’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The emancipation from the consequences of his sins; or it may mean a holy death.
2 Battle fought near Al–Medinah A.D. 625. The word is derived from “shad” (one). I have described the site in my Pilgrimage, (vol. ii. 227).
3 “Haphsa” in older writers; Omar’s daughter and one of Mohammed’s wives, famous for her connection with the manuscripts of the Koran. From her were (or claimed to be) descended the Hafsites who reigned in Tunis and extended their power far and wide over the Maghrib (Mauritania), till dispossessed by the Turks.
4 i.e. humbly without the usual strut or swim: it corresponds with the biblical walking or going softly. (I Kings xxi. 27; Isaiah xxxviii. 15, etc.)
5 A theologian of the seventh and eighth centuries.
6 i.e. to prepare himself by good works, especially alms-giving, for the next world.
7 A theologian of the eighth century.
8 Abd al-Aziz was eighth Ommiade (regn. A.H. 99=717) and the fifth of the orthodox, famed for a piety little known to his house. His most celebrated saying was, “ Be constant in meditation on death: if thou bein straitened case ’twill enlarge it, and if in affluence ’twill straiten it upon thee.” He died. poisoned, it is said, in A.H 101,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nuzhat al-Zaman continued thus, “Said Omar, ‘Verily Allah commissioned as His Apostle Mohammed (upon whom be the benediction of Allah and His salvation!), for a blessing to some and a bane to others; and He elected for him those with him and took him to Himself, leaving the people a stream whereof they might drink. After him Abu Bakr1 the Truth teller became Caliph and he left the river as it was, doing what was pleasing to Allah. Then arose Omar and worked a work and strove in holy war and strife where of none might do the like. But when Othman arose to power he diverted a streamlet from the stream, and Mu’awiyah in his turn diverted from it several streamlets; and without ceasing in like manner, Yezid and the Banu Marwán such as Abd al-Malik and Walíd and Sulaymán2 drew away water from the stream, and the main course dried up, till rule devolved upon me, and now I am minded to restore the stream to its normal condition.’ When Fatimah heard this, she said, ‘I came wishing only to speak and confer with thee, but if this be thy word, I have nothing to say to thee.’ Then she returned to the Ommiades and said to them, ‘Now take ye the consequences of your act when ye allied yourselves by marriage with Omar bin al-Khattab.’3 And it is also said that when Omar was about to die, he gathered his children round him, and Maslamah4 bin Abd al-Malik said to him, ‘O Prince of the Faithful, how wilt thou leave thy children paupers and thou their protector? None can hinder thee in thy lifetime from giving them what will suffice them out of the treasury; and this indeed were better than leaving the good work to him who shall rule after thee.’ Omar looked at him with a look of wrath and wonder and presently replied, ‘O Maslamah, I have defended them from this sin all the days of my life, and shall I make them miserable after my death? Of a truth my sons are like other men, either obedient to Almighty Allah who will prosper them, or disobedient and I will not help them in their disobedience. Know, O Maslamah, that I was present, even as thou, when such an one of the sons of Marwanwas buried, and I fell asleep by him and saw him in a dream given over to one of the punishments of Allah, to whom belong Honour and Glory! This terrified me and made me tremble, and I vowed to Allah, that if ever I came to power, I would not do such deeds as the dead man had done. I have striven to fulfil this vow all the length of my life and I hope to die in the mercy of my Lord.’ Quoth Maslamah, ‘A certain man died and I was present at his burial, and when all was over I fell asleep and I saw him as a sleeper seeth a dream, walking in a garden of flowing waters clad in white clothes. He came up to me and said: ‘O Maslamah, it is for the like of this that rulers should rule.’ Many are the instances of this kind, and quoth one of the men of authority, ‘I used to milk the ewes in the Caliphate of Omar bin Abd al-Aziz, and one day I met a shepherd, among whose sheep I saw a wolf or wolves. I thought them to be dogs, for I had never before seen wolves; so I asked, ‘What dost thou with these dogs?’ ‘They are not dogs, but wolves,’ answered the shepherd. Quoth I, ‘Can wolves be with sheep and not hurt them?’ Quoth he, ‘When the head is whole, the body is whole.’5 Omar bin Abd al-Aziz once preached from a pulpit of clay and, after praising and glorifying Allah Almighty, said three words as follows, ‘O folk, make clean your inmost hearts, that your outward lives may be dean to your brethren, and abstain ye from the things of the world. Know that between us and Adam there is no one man alive among the dead. Dead are Abd al — Malik and those who forewent him, and Omar also shall die and those who forewent him.’ Asked Maslamah, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, an we set a pillow behind thee, wilt thou lean on it a little while?’ But Omar answered, ‘I fear lest it be a fault about my neck on Resurrection Day.’ Then he gasped with the death rattle and fell back in a faint; whereupon Fatimah cried out, saying, ‘Ho, Maryam! Ho, Muzahim!6 Ho, such an one! Look to this man!’ And she began to pour water on him weeping, till he revived from his swoon; and, seeing her in tears said to her, ‘What causeth thee to weep, O Fatimah?’ She replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I saw thee lying prostrate before us and thought of thy prostration in death before Almighty Allah, of thy departure from the world and of thy separation from us. This is what made me weep.’ Answered he, ‘Enough, O Fatimah, for indeed thou exceedest.’ Then he would have risen, but fell down and Fatimah strained him to her and said, ‘Thou art to me as my father and my mother, O Commander of the Faithful! We cannot speak to thee, all of us.’ Then quoth Nuzhat al-Zaman to her brother Sharrkan and the four Kazis, “Here endeth the second section of the first chapter.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Abu Bakr originally called Abd al-Ka’abah (slave of the Ka’abah) took the name of Abdullah and was surnamed Abu Bakr (father of the virgin) when Mohammed, who before had married only widows, took to wife his daughter, the famous or infamous Ayishah. “Bikr” is the usual form, but “Bakr,” primarily meaning a young camel, is metaphorically applied to human youth (Lane’s Lex. s. c.). The first Caliph was a cloth-merchant, like many of the Meccan chiefs. He is described as very fair with bulging brow, deep set eyes and thin-checked, of slender build and lean loined, stooping and with the backs of his hands fleshless. He used tinctures of Henna and Katam for his beard. The Persians who hate him, call him “Pir-i-Kaftár,” the old she-hyaena, and believe that he wanders about the deserts of Arabia in perpetual rut which the males must satisfy.
2 The second, fifth, sixth and seventh Ommiades.
3 The mother of Omar bin Abd al-Aziz was a granddaughter of Omar bin al-Khattab.
4 Brother of this Omar’s successor, Yezid II.
5 So the Turkish proverb “The fish begins to stink at the head.”
6 Calling to the slaves.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nuzhat al-Zaman said to her brother Sharrkan and the four Kazis, “Here endeth the second section of the first chapter. And it so happened that Omar bin Abd al-Aziz wrote to the people of the festival at Meccah as follows, ‘I call Allah to witness, in the Holy Month, in the Holy City and on the day of the Greater Pilgrimage,1 that I am innocent of your oppression and of his wrongs that doth wrong you, in that I have neither commanded this nor purposed it, neither hath any report of aught thereof hitherto reached me, nor have I compassed any knowledge thereof; and I trust that a cause for pardon will be found in that none hath authority from me to oppress any man, for I shall assuredly be questioned concerning every one oppress. And if any of my officers swerve from the right and act otherwise than the Holy Book and the Traditions of the Apostle do authorise, obey him not so that he may return to the way of righteousness.’ He said also (Allah accept of him!), ‘I do not wish to be relieved from death, because it is the supreme thing for which the True Believer is rewarded.’ Quoth one of authority, ‘I went to the Prince of the Faithful, Omarbin Abd al-Aziz, who was then Caliph, and saw before him twelve dirhams, which he ordered for deposit in the public treasury. So I said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, thou impoverishest thy children and reducest them to beggary having nothing whereon to live. An thou wouldst appoint somewhat by will to them and to those who are poor of the people of thy house, it were well.’ ‘Draw near to me,’ answered he: so I drew near to him and he said, ‘Now as for thy saying, ‘Thou beggarest thy children; provide for them and for the poor of thy household,’ it is without reason; for Allah of a truth will replace me to my children and to the poor of my house, and He will be their guardian. Verily, they are like other men; he who feareth Allah, right soon will Allah provide for him a happy issue, and he that is addicted to sins, I will not up hold him in his sin against Allah.’ Then he summoned his sons who numbered twelve, and when he beheld them his eyes dropped tears and presently he said to them, ‘Your Father is between two things; either ye will be well to do, and your parent will enter the fire, or ye will be poor and your parent will enter Paradise; and your father’s entry into Paradise is liefer to him than that ye should be well to do.2 So arise and go, Allah be your helper, for to Him I commit your affairs!’ Khálid bin Safwán3 said, ‘Yúsuf bin Omar 4 accompanied me to Hishám bin Abd al-Malik,5 and as I met him he was coming forth with his kinsmen and attendants. He alighted and a tent was pitched for him. When the people had taken their seats, I came up to the side of the carpet whereon he sat reclining and looked at him; and, waiting till my eyes met his eyes, bespoke him thus, ‘May Allah fulfil His bounty to thee, O Commander of the Faithful, I have an admonition for thee, which hath come down to us from the history of the Kings preceding thee!’ At this, he sat up whenas he had been reclining and said to me, ‘Bring what thou hast, O son of Safwan!’ Quoth I, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, one of the Kings before thee went forth in a time before this thy time, to this very country and said to his companions, ‘Saw ye ever any state like mine and say me, hath such case been given to any man even as it hath been given unto me?’ Now there was with him a man of those who survive to bear testimony to Truth; upholders of the Right and wayfarers in its highway, and he said to him, ‘O King, thou askest of a grave matter. Wilt thou give me leave to answer?’ ‘Yes,’ replied the King, and the other said, ‘Dost thou judge thy present state to be short lasting or ever lasting?’ ‘It is temporary,’ replied the King. ‘How then,’ rejoined the man, ‘do I see thee exulting in that which thou wilt enjoy but a little while and whereof thou wilt be questioned for a long while and for the rendering an account whereof thou shalt be as a pledge which is pawned?’ Quoth the King, ‘Whither shall I flee and what must I seek for me?’ ‘That thou abide in thy kingship,’ replied the other, ‘or else robe thee in rags6 and apply thyself to obey Almighty Allah thy Lord until thine appointed hour. I will come to thee again at daybreak.’ Khalid bin Safwan further relates that the man knocked at the door at dawn and behold, the King had put off his crown and resolved to become an anchorite, for the stress of his exhortation. When Hishám bin Abd al-Malik heard this, he wept till his beard was wet, and, bidding his rich apparel be put off, shut himself up in his palace. Then the grandees and dependents came to Khalid and said, ‘What is this thou hast done with the Commander of the Faithful? Thou hast troubled his pleasure and disturbed his life!’ Then quoth Nuzhat al-Zaman, addressing herself to Sharrkan, “How many instances of admonition are there not in this chapter! Of a truth I cannot report all appertaining to this head in a single sitting,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 When the “Day of Arafat” (9th of Zú‘l-Hijjah) falls upon a Friday. For this Hajj al — Akbar see my Pilgrimage iii. 226. It is often confounded by writers (even by the learned M. Caussin de Perceval) with the common Pilgrimage as opposed to the Umrah, or ” Lesser Pilgrimage” (ibid. iii. 342, etc.). The latter means etymologically cohabiting with a woman in her father’s house as opposed to ‘Ars or leading her to the husband’s home: it is applied to visiting Meccah and going through all the pilgrim-rites but not at the Pilgrimage-season. Hence its title “Hajj al-Asghar” the “Lesser Hajj.” But “Umrah” is also applied to a certain ceremony between the hills Safá (a large hard rock) and Marwah (stone full of flints), which accompanies the Hajj and which I have described (ibid. iii. 344). At Meccah I also heard of two places called Al–Umrah, the Greater in the Wady Fátimah and the Lesser half way nearer the city (ibid. iii. 344).
2 A fair specimen of the unworthy egoism which all religious systems virtually inculcate Here a pious father leaves his children miserable to save his own dirty soul.
3 Chief of the Banú Tamín, one of the noblest of tribes, derived from Tamím, the uncle of Kuraysh (Koreish); hence the poets sang:—
There cannot be a son nobler than Kuraysh,
Nor an uncle nobler than Tamím.
The high minded Tamín is contrasted with the mean-spirited Kays, who also gave rise to a tribe; and hence the saying concerning one absolutely inconsistent, “Art thou now Tamín and then Kays?”
4 Surnamed Al–Sakafi, Governor of Al–Yaman and Irak.
5 Tenth Ommiade (regn. A H. 105–125 = 724–743).
6 Or “clothe thee in worn-out clothes” i.e. “Become a Fakir” or religious mendicant.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nuzhat al-Zaman continued, speaking to Sharrkan, “Know, O King, that in this chapter be so many instances of admonition that of a truth I cannot report all appertaining to this head in a single sitting but, with length of days, O King of the age, all will be well.” There said the Kazis, “O King, of a truth this damsel is the wonder of the world, and of our age the unique pearl! Never heard we her like in the length of time or in the length of our lives.” And they called down blessings on the King and went away. Then Sharrkan turned to his attendants and said, “Begin ye to prepare the marriage festival and make ready food of all kinds.” So they forthright did his bidding as regards the viands, and he commanded the wives of the Emirs and Wazirs and Grandees depart not until the time of the wedding banquet and of the unveiling of the bride. Hardly came the period of afternoon prayer when the tables were spread with whatso heart can desire or eye can delight in of roast meats and geese and fowls; and the subjects ate till they were satisfied. Moreover, Sharrkan had sent for all the singing women of Damascus and they were present, together with every slave girl of the King and of the notables who knew how to sing. And they went up to the palace in one body. When the evening came and darkness starkened they lighted candles, right and left, from the gate of the citadel to that of the palace; and the Emirs and Wazirs and Grandees marched past before King Sharrkan, whilst the singers and the tire women took the damsel to dress and adorn her, but found she needed no adornment. Meantime King Sharrkan went to the Hammam and coming out, sat down on his seat of estate, whilst they paraded the bride before him in seven different dresses: after which they eased her of the weight of her raiment and ornaments and gave such injunctions as are enjoined upon virgins on their wedding nights. Then Sharrkan went in unto her and took her maidenhead;1 and she at once conceived by him and, when she announced it, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and commanded the savants to record the date of her conception. On the morrow he went forth and seated himself on his throne, and the high officers came in to him and gave him joy. Then he called his private secretary and bade him write a letter to his father, King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, saying that he had bought him a damsel, who excels in learning and good breeding and who is mistress of all kinds of knowledge. Moreover he wrote, “There is no help but that I send her to Baghdad to visit my brother Zau al-Makan and my sister Nuzhat al-Zaman. I have set her free and married her and she hath conceived by me.” And he went on to praise her wit and salute his brother and sister together with the Wazir Dandan and all the Emirs. Then he sealed the letter and despatched it to his father by a post courier who was absent a whole month, after which time he returned with the answer and presented it in the presence. Sharrkan took it and read as follows, “After the usual Bismillah, this is from the afflicted distracted man, from him who hath lost his children and home by bane and ban, King Omar bin al — Nu’uman, to his son Sharrkan. Know that, since thy departure from me, the place is become contracted upon me, so that no longer I have power of patience nor can I keep my secret: and the cause thereof is as follows. It chanced that when I went forth to hunt and course Zau al-Makan sought my leave to fare Hijaz wards, but I, fearing for him the shifts of fortune, forbade him therefrom until the next year or the year after. My absence while sporting and hunting endured for a whole month”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This gratuitous incest in ignorance injures the tale and is as repugnant to Moslem as to Christian taste.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Omar bin al-Nu’uman wrote in his letter, “My absence while sporting and hunting endured for a whole month, and when I returned I found that thy brother and sister had taken somewhat of money and had set out with the pilgrim caravan for pilgrimage by stealth. When I knew this, the wide world narrowed on me, O my son! but I awaited the return of the caravan, hoping that haply they would come back with it. Accordingly, when the palmers appeared I asked concerning the twain, but they could give me no news of them; so I donned mourning for them, being heavy at heart, and in sleep I have no part and I am drowned in the tears of my eyes.” Then he wrote in verse,
“That pair in image quits me not one single hour,
Whom in my heart’s most honourable place I keep:
Sans hope of their return I would not live one hour,
Without my dreams of them I ne’er would stretch me in sleep.”
The letter went on, “And after the usual salutations to thee and thine, I command thee neglect no manner of seeking news of them for indeed this is a shame to us.” When Sharrkan read the letter he felt grief for his father and joy for the loss of his brother and sister. Then he took the missive and went in with it to Nuzhat al-Zaman who knew not that he was her brother, nor he that she was his sister, albeit he often visited her both by night and by day till the months were accomplished and she sat down on the stool of delivery. Allah made the child birth easy to her and she bare a daughter, whereupon she sent for Sharrkan and seeing him she said to him, “This is thy daughter: name her as thou wilt.” Quoth he, “It is usual to name children on the seventh day after birth.1” Then he bent over the child to kiss it and he saw, hung about its neck, a jewel, which he knew at once for one of those which Princess Abrizah had brought from the land of the Greeks. Now when he saw the jewel hanging from his babe’s neck he recognised it right well, his senses fled and wrath seized on him; his eyes rolled in rage and he looked at Nuzhat al — Zaman and said to her, “Whence hadst thou this jewel, O slave girl?” When she heard this from Sharrkan she replied, “I am thy lady, and the lady of all in thy palace! Art thou not ashamed to say to me Slave girl? I am a Queen, daughter of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman.” Hearing this, he was seized with trembling and hung his head earthwards — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The child is named either on the day of its birth or on that day week. The father whispers it in the right ear, often adding the Azán or prayer-call, and repeating in the left ear the “Ikámah” or Friday sentence. There are many rules for choosing names according to the week-day, the ascendant planet, the “Sortes Coranicæ,” etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sharrkan heard these words, his heart fluttered and his colour waxed yellow and he was seized with trembling and he hung his head earthwards, for he knew that she was his sister by the same father. Then he lost his senses; and, when he revived, he abode in amazement, but did not discover his identity to her and asked, O my lady, say, art thou in sooth the daughter of King Omar bin al — Nu’uman?” “Yes,” answered she; and he continued, “Tell me the cause of thy leaving thy sire and of thy being sold for a slave.” So she related to him all that had befallen her from beginning to end, how she had left her brother sick in the Sanctified City, Jerusalem, and how the Badawi had kidnapped her and had sold her to the trader. When Sharrkan heard this, he was certified of her being his sister on the sword side and said to himself, “How can I have my sister to wife? By Allah, needs must I marry her to one of my chamberlains; and, if the thing get wind, I will declare that I divorced her before consummation and married her to my Chief Chamberlain.” Then he raised his head and sighing said, “O Nuzhat al-Zaman, thou art my very sister and I cry: ‘I take refuge with Allah from this sin whereinto we have fallen,’ for I am Sharrkan, son of Omar bin al-Nu’uman.” She looked at him and knew he spoke the truth; and, becoming as one demented, she wept and buffeted her face, exclaiming, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! Verily have we fallen into mortal sin!1 What shall I do and what shall I say to my father and my mother when they ask me, Whence hadst thou thy daughter?” Quoth Sharrkan, “It were meetest that I marry thee to my Chamberlain and let thee bring up my daughter in his house, that none may know thou be my sister. This hath befallen us from Almighty Allah for a purpose of his own, and nothing shall cover us but thy marriage with this Chamberlain, ere any know.” Then he fell to comforting her and kissing her head and she asked him, “What wilt thou call the girl?” “Call her Kuzia Fakán,”2 answered he. Then he gave the mother in marriage to the Chief Chamberlain, and transferred her to his house with the child, which they reared on the laps of the slave girls, and fed with milk and dosed with powders. Now all this occurred whilst the brother, Zau al-Makan, still tarried with the Fireman at Damascus. One day there came to King Sharrkan a courier from his father, with a letter which he took and read and found therein, “After the Bismillah know, O beloved King, that I am afflicted with sore affliction for the loss of my children: sleep ever faileth me and wakefulness ever assaileth me. I send thee this letter that, as soon as thou receivest it, thou make ready the monies and the tribute, and send them to us, together with the damsel whom thou hast bought and taken to wife; for I long to see her and hear her discourse; more especially because there hath come to us from Roumland an old woman of saintly bearing and with her be five damsels high bosomed virgins, endowed with knowledge and good breeding and all arts and sciences befitting mortals to know; and indeed tongue faileth me to describe this old woman and these who with her wend; for of a truth they are compendiums of perfections in learning and accomplishments. As soon as I saw them I loved them, and I wished to have them in my palace and in the compass of my hand; for none of the Kings owneth the like of them; so I asked the old woman their price and she answered, ‘I will not sell them but for the tribute of Damascus.’ And I, by Allah, did not hold this price exorbitant, indeed it is but little, for each one of them is worth the whole valuation. So I agreed to that and took them into my palace, and they remain in my possession. Wherefore do thou forward the tribute to us that the woman may return to her own country; and send to us the damsel to the end that she may dispute with them before the doctors; and, if she prevail over them, I will return her to thee accompanied by the tribute of Baghdad.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Amongst Moslems as amongst Christians there are seven deadly sins: idolatry, murder, falsely charging modest women with unchastity, robbing orphans, usury, desertion in Holy War and disobedience to parents. The difference between the two creeds is noteworthy. And the sage knows only three, intemperance, ignorance and egoism.
2 Meaning, “It was decreed by Destiny; so it came to pass,” appropriate if not neat.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Omar son of Al–Nu’uman said in his letter, “And send to us the damsel to the end that she may dispute with them before the doctors and, if she prevail over them, I will return her to thee accompanied with the tribute of Baghdad.” As soon as Sharrkan knew the contents, he went in to his brother in law and said to him, “Bring the damsel to whom I married thee;” and when she came he showed her the letter and said, “O my sister! what answer wouldst thou advise me make to this letter?” Replied she, “Seek advice from thyself!” and presently added (for she yearned after her people and her native land), “Send me together with my husband the Chamberlain, to Baghdad, that I may tell my father my tale and let him know whatso befel me with the Badawi who sold me to the merchant, and that I also inform him how thou boughtest me of the trader and gavest me in marriage to the Chamberlain, after setting me free.” “Be it so,” replied Sharrkan. Then Sharrkan took his daughter, Kuzia Fakan, and committed her to the charge of the wet nurses and the eunuchs, and he made ready the tribute in haste, bidding the Chamberlain travel with the Princess and the treasure to Baghdad. He also furnished him two travelling litters one for himself and the other for his wife. And the Chamberlain replied, “To hear is to obey.” Moreover Sharrkan collected camels and mules and wrote a letter to his father and committed it to the Chamberlain; then he bade farewell to his sister, after he had taken the jewel from her and hung it round his daughter’s neck by a chain of pure gold; and she and her husband set out for Baghdad the same night. Now it so happened that Zau al-Makan and his friend the Fireman had come forth from the hut in which they were, to see the spectacle, and they beheld camels and Bukhti1 dromedaries and bât-mules and torches and lanterns alight; and Zau al-Makan enquired about the loads and their owner and was told that it was the tribute of Damascus going to King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, Lord of the City of Baghdad. He then asked, “Who be the leader of the caravan?” and they answered, “The Head Chamberlain who hath married the damsel so famous for learning and science.” Thereupon Zau al-Makan wept with bitter weeping and was minded of his mother and his father and his sister and his native land, and he said to the Stoker, “I will join this caravan and, little by little, will journey homewards.” Quoth the Fireman, “I would not suffer thee to travel single handed from the Holy City to Damascus, then how shall I be sure of thy safety when thou farest for Baghdad? But I will go with thee and care for thee till thou effectest thine object.” “With joy and good will,” answered Zau al-Makan. Then the Fireman get him ready for the journey and hired an ass and threw saddle bags over it and put therein something of provaunt; and, when all was prepared, he awaited the passage of the caravan. And presently the Chamberlain came by on a dromedary and his footmen about him. Then Zau al-Ma ken mounted the ass and said to his companion, “Do thou mount with me.” But he replied, “Not so: I will be thy servant.” Quoth Zau al-Makan, “There is no help for it but thou ride awhile.” “’Tis well,” quoth the Stoker; “I will ride when I grow tired.” Then said Zau al-Makan, “O my brother, soon shalt thou see how I will deal with thee, when I come to my own folk.” So they fared on till the sun rose and,When it was the hour of the noonday sleep2 the Chamberlain called a halt and they alighted and reposed and watered their camels. Then he gave the signal for departure and, after five days, they came to the city of Hamáh,3 where they set down and made a three days’ halt; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The short, stout, dark, long-haired and two-bunched camel from “Bukhtar” (Bactria), the “Eastern” (Bakhtar) region on the Amu or Jayhun (Oxus) River; afterwards called Khorasan. The two-humped camel is never seen in Arabia except with northern caravans, and to speak of it would be a sore test of Badawi credulity.
2 “Kaylúlah” is the “forty-winks” about noon: it is a Sunnat or Practice of the Prophet who said, “Make the mid-day siesta, for verily at this hour the devils sleep not.” “Aylúlain” is slumbering after morning prayers (our “beauty-sleep”), causing heaviness andid leness: “Ghaylúlah” is dozing about 9 a.m. engendering poverty and wretchedness: “Kaylúlah” (with the guttural Kaf) is sleeping before evening prayers and “Faylúlah” is slumbering after sunset — both held to be highly detrimental. (Pilgrimage ii 49.)
3 The Biblical “Hamath” (Hightown) too well known to require description. It is still famous for the water-wheels mentioned by al-Hariri (assembly of the Banu Harám).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that they halted in the city of Hamah three days; they then fared forwards and ceased not travelling till they reached another city. Here also they halted three days and thence they travelled till they entered the province Diyár Bakr. Here blew on them the breezes of Baghdad, and Zau al-Makan bethought him of his father and mother and native land, and how he was returning to his sire without his sister: so he wept and sighed and complained, and his regrets grew on him, and he began improvising these couplets,
“Sweetheart! How long must I await by so long suffering teed?
Nor cometh messenger to tell me where thou dost abide:
Ah me! in very sooth our meeting time was short enow:
Would Heaven shorter prove to me the present parting-tide!
Now trend my hand and open my robe and thou within shall sight
How wasted are the limbs of me and yet the waste I hide:
When say they ‘Comfort take for loss of love’ I but reply
‘By Allah, till the Day of Doom no comfort shall betide!’ ”
Thereupon said to him the Fireman, “Leave this weeping and wailing, for we are near the Chamberlain’s tent.” Quoth Zau al-Makan, “Needs must I recite somewhat of verse; haply it may quench the fire of my heart.” “Allah upon thee,” cried the other, “cease this lamentation till thou come to thine own country; then do what thou wilt, and I will be with thee wherever thou art.” Replied Zau al-Makan, “By Allah! I cannot forbear from this!” Then he turned his face towards Baghdad and the moon was shining brightly and shedding her light on the place, and Nuzhat al-Zaman could not sleep that night, but was restless and called to mind her brother and wept. And while she was in tears, he heard Zau al-Makan weeping and improvising the following distichs,
‘Al–Yaman’s1 leven-gleam I see,
And sore despair despaireth me
For friend who erst abode wi’ me
Crowning my cup with gladdest gree:
It minds me o’ one who jilted me
To mourn my bitter liberty.
Say sooth, thou fair sheet lightning! shall
We meet once more in joy and glee?
O blamer! spare to me thy blame
My Lord hath sent this dule to dree,
Of friend who left me, fain to flee;
Of Time that breeds calamity:
All bliss hath fled the heart of me
Since Fortune proved mine enemy.
He2 brimmed a bowl of merest pine,
And made me drain the dregs, did he:
I see me, sweetheart, dead and gone
Ere I again shall gaze on thee.
Time! prithee bring our childhood back,
Restore our happy infancy,
When joy and safety ‘joyed we
From shafts that now they shoot at me!
Who aids the hapless stranger wight,
That nights in fright and misery,
That wastes his days in lonely grief,
For ‘Time’s Delight’3 no more must be?
Doomed us despite our will to bear
The hands of base bores cark and care.”
When he ended his verse he cried out and fell down in a fainting fit. This is how it fared with him; but as regards Nuzhat al- Zaman, when she heard that voice in the night, her heart was at rest and she rose and in her joy she called the Chief Eunuch, who said to her, “What is thy will?” Quoth she, “Arise and bring me him who recited verses but now.” Replied he, “Of a truth I did not hear him”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 When they say, “The levee flashes bright on the hills of Al–Yaman,” the allusion is to the south quarter, where summer-lightning is seen. Al–Yaman (always with the article) means, I have said, the right-hand region to one facing the rising sun and Al–Sham (Syria) the left-hand region.
2 Again “he” for “she,” in delicacy and jealousy of making public the beauty or conditions of the “veiled sex.” Even public singers would hesitate to use a feminine pronoun. As will be seen however, the rule is not invariably kept and hardly ever in Badawi poetry.
3 The normal pun on “Nuzhat al-Zaman” = Delight of the Age or Time.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nuzhat Al–Zaman heard her brother reciting, she called the Chief Eunuch and said to him, “Go, fetch me the man who is repeating this poetry!” Replied he, “Of a truth I heard him not and I wot him not and folks are all sleeping.” But she said, “Whomsoever thou seest awake, he is the reciter.” So he went, yet found none on wake save the Stoker; for Zau al-Makan was still insensible, and when his companion saw the Eunuch standing by his head he was afraid of him. Then said the Eunuch, “Art thou he who repeated poetry but now and my lady heard him?” The Stoker fancied that the dame was wroth with the reciter; and, being afraid, he replied, “By Allah, ’twas not I!” Rejoined the Eunuch, “Who then was the reciter?: point him out to me. Thou must know who it was, seeing that thou art awake.” The Fireman feared for Zau al- Makan and said in himself, “Haply the Eunuch will do him some hurt”; so he answered, “By Allah, I know not who it was.” Said the Eunuch, “By Allah, thou liest, for there is none on wake here but thou! So needs must thou know him.” “By Allah,” replied the Fireman, “I tell thee the truth!: some passer by, some wayfarer must have recited the verses and disturbed me and kept me awake; Allah requite him!” Quoth the Eunuch, “If thou happen upon him, point him out to me and I will lay hands on him and bring him to the door of our lady’s litter1 or do thou take him with thine own hand.” Said the Fireman, “Go thou back and I will bring him to thee.” So the Eunuch left him and went his ways; and, going in to his mistress, told her all this and said to her, “None knoweth who it was; it must have been some passer by, some wayfarer.” And she was silent. Meanwhile, Zau al-Makan came to himself and saw that the moon had reached the middle Heavens; the breath of the dawn breeze2 breathed upon him and his heart was moved to longing and sadness; so he cleared his throat and was about to recite verses, when the Fire man asked him, “What wilt thou do?” Answered Zau al-Makan, “I have a mind to repeat somewhat of poetry, that I may quench therewith the fire of my heart.” Quoth the other, “Thou knowest not what befel me whilst thou wast a faint, and how I escaped death only by beguiling the Eunuch.” “Tell me what happened,” quoth Zau al-Makan. Replied the Stoker, “Whilst thou wast aswoon there came up to me but now an Eunuch, with a long staff of almond tree wood in his hand, who took to looking in all the people’s faces, as they lay asleep, and asked me who it was recited the verses, finding none awake but myself. I told him in reply it was some passerby, some wayfarer; so he went away and Allah delivered me from him; else had he killed me. But first he said to me, ‘If thou hear him again, bring him to us.’” When Zau al-Makan heard this he wept and said, “Who is it would forbid me to recite? I will surely recite, befal me what may; for I am near mine own land and care for none.” Rejoined the Fireman, “Thy design is naught save to lose thy life;” and Zau al-Makan retorted, “Needs must I recite verses.” “Verily,” said the Stoker, “needs must there be a parting between me and thee in this place, albeit;I had intended not to leave thee, till I had brought thee to thy native city and reunited thee with thy mother and father. Thou hast now tarried with me a year and a half and I have never harmed thee in aught. What ails thee, then, that thou must needs recite verses, seeing that we are tired out with walking and watching and all the folk are asleep, for they require sleep to rest them of their fatigue?” But Zau al-Makan answered, “I will not be turned away from my purpose.”3 Then grief moved him and he threw off concealment and began repeating these couplets,
“Stand thou by the homes and hail the lords of the ruined stead;
Cry thou for an answer, belike reply to thee shall be sped:
If the night and absence irk thy spirit kindle a torch
Wi’ repine; and illuminate the gloom with a gleaming greed:
If the snake of the sand dunes hiss, I shall marvel not at all!
Let him bite so I bite those beauteous lips of the luscious red:
O Eden, my soul hath fled in despite of the maid I love:
Had I lost hope of Heaven my heart in despair were dead.”
And he also improvised the two following distichs,
“We were and were the days enthralled to all our wills,
Dwelling in union sweet and homed in fairest site:
Who shall restore the home of the beloved, where showed
Light of the Place for aye conjoined with Time’s
Delight?’’4
And as he ceased his verses, he shrieked three shrieks and fell senseless to the ground and the Fireman rose and covered him. When Nuzhat al-Zaman heard the first improvisation, she called to mind her father and her mother and her brother and their whilome home; then she wept and cried at the Eunuch and said to him, “Woe to thee! He who recited the first time hath recited a second time and I heard him hard by. By Allah, an thou fetch him not to me, I will assuredly rouse the Chamberlain on thee, and he shall beat thee and cast thee out. But take these hundred diners and give them to the singer and bring him to me gently, and do him no hurt. If he refuse, hand to him this purse of a thousand diners, then leave him and return to me and tell me, after thou hast informed thyself of his place and his calling and what countryman he is. Return quickly and linger not.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The reader will find in my Pilgrimage (i. 305) a sketch of the Takht-rawan or travelling-litter, in which pilgrimesses are wont to sleep.
2 In poetry it holds the place of our Zephyr; end the “Bád- i-Sabá”=Breeze o’ the morn, Is much addressed by Persian poets.
3 Here appears the nervous, excitable, hysterical Arab temperament which is almost phrensied by the neighbourhood of a home from which he had run away.
4 Zau al-Makan and Nuzhat al-Zaman.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nuzhat al- Zaman sent the Eunuch to make enquiries concerning the singer and said, “Beware how thou come back to me and report, I could not find him.” So the Eunuch went out and laid about the people and trod in their tents, but found none awake, all being asleep for weariness, till he came to the Stoker and saw him sitting up, with his head uncovered. So he drew near and seizing him by the hand, said to him, “It was thou didst recite the verses!” The Fireman was afeard for his life and replied, “No, by Allah, O chief of the people, it was not I!” But the Eunuch said, “I will not leave thee till thou show me who it was that recited the verses, for I dread returning to my lady without him.” Now when the Fireman heard these words he feared for Zau al-Makan and wept with exceeding weeping and said to the Eunuch, “By Allah, it was not I, and I know him not. I only heard some passer by, some wayfarer, recite verses: so do not thou commit sin on me, for I am a stranger and come from the Holy City of Jerusalem; and Abraham, the friend of Allah, be with you all.” “Rise up and fare with me,” rejoined the Eunuch, “and tell my lady this with thine own mouth, for I have seen none awake save thyself.” Quoth the Stoker, “Hast thou not come and seen me sitting in the place where I now am, and dost thou not know my station? Thou wottest none can stir from his place, except the watchman seize him. So go thou to thy station and if thou again meet any one after this hour reciting aught of poetry, whether he be near or far, it will be I or some one I know, and thou shalt not learn of him but by me.” Then he kissed the Eunuch’s head and spake him fair till he went away; but the Castrato fetched a round and, returning secretly, came and stood behind the Fireman, fearing to go back to his mistress without tidings. As soon as he was gone, the Stoker arose and aroused Zau al-Makan and said to him, “Come, sit up, that I may tell thee what hath happened.” So Zau al-Makan sat up, and his companion told him what had passed, and he answered, “Let me alone; I will take no heed of this and I care for none, for I am mine own country.”1 Quoth the Stoker, “Why wilt thou obey thy flesh and the devil? If thou fear no one, I fear for thee and for my life, so Allah upon thee! recite nothing more of verses till thou come to thine own land. Indeed, I had not deemed thee so ill conditioned. Dost thou not know that this lady is the wife; of the Chamberlain and is minded to chastise thee for disturbing her? Belike, she is ill or restless for fatigue of the journey and the distance of the place from her home, and this is the second time she hath sent the Eunuch to look for thee.” However Zau al-Makan paid no heed to the Fireman’s words but cried out a third time and began versifying with these couplets,
“I fly the carper’s injury,
Whose carping sorely vexeth me:
He chides and taunts me, wotting not
He burns me but more grievously.
The blamer cries ‘He is consoled!’
I say, ‘My own dear land2 to see:’
They ask, ‘Why be that land so dear?’
I say, ‘It taught me in love to be:’
They ask, ‘What raised its dignity?’
I say, ‘What made my ignomy:’
Whate’er the bitter cup I drain,
Far be fro’ me that land to flee:
Nor will I bow to those who blame,
And for such love would deal me shame.
Hardly had he made an end of his verses and come to a conclusion, when the Eunuch (who had heard him from his hiding place at his head) came up to him; whereupon the Fireman fled and stood afar off to see what passed between them. Then said the Eunuch to Zau al-Makan, “Peace be with thee, O my lord!” “And on thee be peace,” replied Zau al-Makan, “and the mercy of Allah and His blessings!” “O my lord,” continued the Eunuch — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Eunuch said to Zau al-Makan, “O my lord, I have sought thee these several times this night, for my mistress biddeth thee to her.” Quoth Zau al — Makan, “And who be this bitch that seeketh for me? Allah curse her and curse her husband with her!”1 And he began to revile the Eunuch, who could make him no answer, because his mistress had charged him to do Zau al-Makan no hurt, nor bring him save of his own especial free will; and, if he would not accompany him, to give him the thousand diners. So the Castrato began to speak him fair and say to him, “O my lord, take this purse and go with me. We will do thee no upright, O my son, nor wrong thee in aught; but our object is that thou bend thy gracious steps with me to my mistress, to receive her answer and return in weal and safety: and thou shalt have a handsome present as one who bringeth good news.” When Zau al — Makan heard this, he arose and went with the Eunuch and walked among the sleeping folk, stepping over them; whilst the Fireman followed after them from afar, and kept his eye upon him and said to himself, “Alas the pity of his youth! Tomorrow they will hang him.” And he ceased not following them till he approached their station,2 without any observing him. Then he stood still and said, “How base it will be of him, if he say it was I who bade him recite the verses!” This was the case of the Stoker; but as regards what befel Zau al-Makan, he ceased not walking with the Eunuch till he reached his station and the Castrato went in to Nuzhat al-Zaman and said, “O my lady, I have brought thee him whom thou soughtest, and he is a youth, fair of face and bearing the marks of wealth and gentle breeding.” When she heard this, her heart fluttered and she cried, “Let him recite some verses, that I may hear him near hand, and after ask him his name and his condition and his native land.” Then the Eunuch went out to Zau al-Makan and said to him, “Recite what verses thou knowest, for my lady is here hard by, listening to thee, and after I will ask thee of thy name and thy native country and thy condition.” Replied he, “With love and gladness but, an thou ask my name, it is erased and my trace is unplaced and my body a waste. I have a story, the beginning of which is not known nor can the end of it be shown, and behold, I am even as one who hath exceeded in wine drinking and who hath not spared himself; one who is afflicted with distempers and who wandereth from his right mind, being perplexed about his case and drowned in the sea of thought.” When Nuzhat al-Zaman heard this, she broke out into excessive weeping and sobbing, and said to the Eunuch, “Ask him if he have parted from one he loveth even as his mother or father.” The Castrato asked as she bade him, and Zau al-Makan replied, “Yes, I have parted from every one I loved: but the dearest of all to me was my sister, from whom Fate hath separated me.” When Nuzhat al-Zaman heard this, she exclaimed, “Allah Almighty reunite him with what he loveth!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard his words she said, “Allah reunite him with what he loveth!” Then quoth she to the Eunuch, “Tell him to let me hear somewhat anent his separation from his countrymen and his country.” The Eunuch did so, and Zau al-Makan sighed heavily and began repeating these couplets,1
“Is not her love a pledge by all mankind confest?
The house that hometh Hinda be forever blest’
Her love all levels; man can reck of naught beside;
Naught or before or after can for man have zest
’Tis though the vale is paved with musk and ambergris
That day when Hinda’s footstep on its face is prest:
Hail to the beauty of our camp, the pride of folk,
The dearling who en’ Slaves all hearts by her behest:
Allah on ‘Time’s Delight’ send large dropped clouds that teem
With genial rain but bear no thunder in their breast.”
And also these,
“I vow to Allah if at home I sight
My sister Nuzhat al-Zamani hight
I’ll pass the days in joyance and delight
Mid bashful minions, maidens soft and white:
To sound of harps in various modes they smite
Draining the bowl, while eyes rain lively light
‘Neath half closed lids, a sipping lips red bright
By stream bank flowing through my garden site.”
When he had finished his verse, Nuzhat al-Zaman lifted up a skirt of the litter curtain and looked at him. As soon as her eyes fell on his face, she knew him for certain and cried out, “O my brother! O Zau al-Makan!” He also looked at her and knew her and cried out, “O my sister! O Nuzhat al-Zaman!” Then she threw herself upon him and he gathered her to his bosom and the twain fell down in a fainting fit. When the Eunuch saw this case, he wondered at them and throwing over them somewhat to cover them, waited till they should recover. After a while they came to themselves, and Nuzhat al-Zaman rejoiced with exceeding joy: oppression and depression left her and gladness took the mastery of her, and she repeated these verses,
“Time sware my life should fare in woeful waste;
Forsworn art Time, expiate thy sin in haste!2
Comes weal and comes a welcome friend to aid;
To him who brings good news, rise, gird thy waist
I spurned old world tales of Eden bliss;
Till came I Kausar3 on those lips
When Zau al-Makan heard this, he pressed his sister to his breast; tears streamed from his eyes for excess of joy and he repeated these couplets,4
“Long I lamented that we fell apart,
While tears repentant railed from these eyne;
And sware, if Time unite us twain once more,
‘Severance’ shall never sound from tongue of mine:
Joy hath so overwhelmed me that excess
Of pleasure from mine eyes draws gouts of brine:
Tears, O mine eyes, have now become your wont
Ye weep for pleasure and you weep for pine!”
They sat awhile at the litter door till she said to him, “Come with me into the litter and tell me all that hath befallen thee, and I will tell thee what happened to me.” So they entered and Zau al-Maken said, “Do thou begin thy tale.” Accordingly she told him all that had come to her since their separation at the Khan and what had happened to her with the Badawi; how the merchant had bought her of him and had taken her to her brother Sharrkan and had sold her to him; how he had freed her at the time of buying; how he had made a marriage contract with her and had gone in to her and how the King, their sire, had sent and asked for her from Sharrkan. Then quoth she, “Praised be Allah who hath vouchsafed thee to me and ordained that, even as we left our father together, so together shall we return to him!” And she added, “Of a truth my brother Sharrkan gave me in marriage to this Chamberlain that he might carry me to my father. And this is what befel me from first to last; so now tell me how it hath fared with thee since I left thee.” Thereupon he told her all that had happened to him from beginning to end; and how Allah vouchsafed to send the Fireman to him, and how he had journeyed with him and spent his money on him and had served him night and day. She praised the Stoker for this and Zau al-Makan added, “Of a truth, O my sister, this Fireman hath dealt with me in such benevolent wise as would not lover with lass nor sire with son, for that he fasted and gave me to eat, and he walked whilst he made me ride; and I owe my life to him.” Said she, “Allah willing, we will requite him for all this, according to our power.” Then she called the Eunuch, who came and kissed Zau al-Makan’s hand, and she said, “Take thy reward for glad tidings, O face of good omen! It was thy hand reunited me with my brother; so the purse I gave thee and all in it are thine. But now go to thy master and bring him quickly to me.” The Castrato rejoiced and, going in to the Chamberlain, him to his mistress. Accordingly, he came in to his wife and finding Zau al-Makan with her, asked who he was. So she told him all that had befallen them both, first and last, and added, “Know, O Chamberlain, that thou hast married no slave girl; far from it, thou hast taken to wife the daughter of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman for I am Nuzhat al-Zaman, and this is my brother, Zau al-Makan.” When the Chamberlain heard the story he knew it to be sooth, and its manifest truth appeared to him and he was certified that he was become King Omar bin al-Nu’uman’s son in law, so he said to himself, “ ’Twill be my fate to be made viceroy of some province.”5 Then he went up to Zau al-Makan and gave him joy of his safety and reunion with his sister, and bade his servants forthwith make him ready a tent and one of the best of his own horses to ride. Thereupon said Nuzhat al-Zaman, “We are now near our country and I would be left alone with my brother, that we may enjoy each other’s company and take our fill of it ere we reach Baghdad; for we have been parted a long, long time.” “Be it as thou biddest,” replied the Chamberlain, and, going forth from them, sent them wax candles and various kinds of sweetmeats, together with three suits of the costliest for Zau al-Makan. Then he returned to the litter and related the good he had done and Nuzhat al-Zaman said to him, “Bid the Eunuch bring me the Fireman and give him a horse to ride and ration him with a tray of food morning and evening, and let him be forbidden to leave us.” The Chamberlain called the Castrato and charged him to do accordingly; so he replied, “I hear and I obey;” and he took his pages with him and went out in search of the Stoker till he found him in the rear of the caravan, girthing his ass and preparing for flight. The tears were running adown his cheeks, out of fear for his life and grief for his separation from Zau al-Makan; and he was saying to himself, “Indeed, I warned him for the love of Allah, but he would not listen to me; Oh would I knew what is become of him!” Ere he had done speaking the Eunuch was standing by his head whilst the pages surrounded him The Fireman turned and seeing the Eunuch and the pages gathered around him became yellow with fear — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Mr. Payne (ii. 109) borrows this and the next quotation from the Bull Edit. i. 386.
2 For the expiation of inconsiderate oaths see Koran (chaps. v.). I cannot but think that Al–Islam treats perjury too lightly: all we can say is-that it improves upon Hinduism which practically seems to leave the punishment to the gods.
3 “Kausar,” as has been said, represents the classical nectar, the Amrita of the Hindus.
4 From Bull Edit. i. 186. The couplet in the Mac. Edit. i. 457 is very wildly applied.
5 The “insula” of Sancho Panza.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Stoker girthed his ass for flight and bespake himself, saying, “Oh would I knew what is become of him!”; ere he had done speaking the Castrato was standing by his head and his side muscles quivered for fear and he lifted up his voice and cried, “Verily he knoweth not the value of the good offices I have done him! I believe he hath denounced me to the Eunuch (hence these pages et about me) and he hath made me an accomplice in his crime.” Then the effeminated one cried at him, saying, “Who was it recited the verses? O liar! why didst thou say, ‘I never repeated these couplets, nor do I know who repeated them;’ when it was thy companion? But now I will not leave thee between this place and Baghdad, and what betideth thy comrade shall betide thee.” Quoth the Fireman, “What I feared hath befallen me.” And he repeated this couplet,
“’Twas as I feared the coming ills discerning:
But unto Allah we are all returning.”
Then the Eunuch cried upon the pages, saying, “Take him off the ass.” So they carried him along with the caravan, surrounded by the pages, as the white contains the black of the eye; and the Castrato said to them, “If a hair of him be lost, you will be lost with it.” And he bade them privily treat him with honour and not humiliate him. But when the Stoker saw himself beset by the pages, he despaired of his life and turning to the Eunuch, said to him, “O Chief, I am neither this youth’s brother nor am I akin to him, nor is he sib to me; but I was a Fireman in a Hammam and found him cast out, in his sickness, on the dung heap.” Then the caravan fared on and the Stoker wept and imagined in himself a thousand things, whilst the Eunuch walked by his side and told him nothing, but said to him, “Thou disturbedst our mistress by reciting verses, thou and this youth: but fear nothing for thy self;” and kept laughing at him the while to himself. Whenever the caravan halted, they served him with food, and he and the Castrato ate from one dish.1 Then the Eunuch bade his lads bring a gugglet of sugared sherbet and, after drinking himself, gave it to the Fireman, who drank; but all the while his tears never dried, out of fear for his life and grief for his separation from Zau al-Makan and for what had befallen them in their strangerhood. So they both travelled on with the caravan, whilst the Chamberlain now rode by the door of his wife’s litter, in attendance on Zau al-Makan and his sister, and now gave an eye to the Fireman; and Nuzhat al-Zaman and her brother occupied themselves with converse and mutual condolence; and they ceased not after this fashion till they came within three days’ journey from Baghdad. Here they alighted at eventide and rested till the morning morrowed; and as they awoke and they were about to load the beasts, behold, there appeared afar off a great cloud of dust that darkened the firmament till it became black as gloomiest night.2 Thereupon the Chamberlain cried out to them, “Stay, and your loading delay!”; then, mounting with his Mamelukes, rode forward in the direction of the dust cloud. When they drew near, suddenly appeared under it a numerous conquering host like the full tide sea, with flags and standards, drums and kettledrums, horsemen and footmen. The Chamberlain marvelled at this; and when the troops saw him, there detached itself from amongst them a plump of five hundred cavaliers, who fell upon him and his suite and surrounded them, five for one; whereupon said he to them, “What is the matter and what are these troops, that ye do this with us?” Asked they, “Who art thou; and whence comest thou, and whither art thou bound?” and he answered, “I am the Chamberlain of the Emir of Damascus, King Sharrkan, son of Omar bin al-Nu’uman, Lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorasan, and I bring tribute and presents from him to his father in Baghdad.” When the horsemen heard his words they let their head kerchiefs fall over their faces and wept, saying, “In very sooth King Omar is dead and he died not but of poison. So fare ye forwards; no harm shall befal you till you join his Grand Wazir, Dandan.” Now when the Chamberlain heard this, he wept sore and exclaimed, “Oh for our disappointment in this our journey!” Then he and all his suite wept till they had come up with the host and sought access to the Wazir Dandan, who granted an interview and called a halt and, causing his pavilion to be pitched, sat down on a couch therein and commanded to admit the Chamberlain. Then he bade him be seated and questioned him; and he replied that he was Chamberlain to the Emir of Damascus and was bound to King Omar with presents and the tribute of Syria. The Wazir, hearing the mention of King Omar’s name, wept and said, “King Omar is dead by poison, and upon his dying the folk fell out amongst themselves as to who should succeed him, until they were like to slay one another on this account; but the notables and grandees and the four Kazis interposed and all the people agreed to refer the matter to the decision of the four judges and that none should gainsay them. So it was agreed that we go to Damascus and fetch thence the King’s son, Sharrkan, and make him Sultan over his father’s realm. And amongst them were some who would have chosen the cadet, Zau Al–Makan, for, quoth they, his name be Light of the Place, and he hath a sister Nuzhat al-Zaman hight, the Delight of the Time; but they set out five years ago for Al–Hijaz and none wotteth what is become of them.” When the Chamberlain heard this, he knew; that his wife had told him the truth of her adventures; and he grieved with sore grief for the death of King Omar, albeit he joyed with exceeding joy, especially at the arrival of Zau al-Makan, for that he would now become Sultan of Baghdad in his father’s stead — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sharrkan’s Chamberlain heard of the death of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman he mourned, but he rejoiced because of his wife and her brother Zau al-Makan who would become Sultan of Baghdad in his father’s stead. So he turned to the Wazir Dandan and said to him, “Verily your tale is a wonder of wonders! Know, O Chief Wazir, that here, where you have encountered me, Allah hath given you rest from fatigue and bringeth you your desire after the easiest of fashions, for that His Almighty Will restoreth to you Zau al-Makan and his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman; whereby we will settle the matter as we easily can.” When the Minister heard these words he rejoiced with great joy and said, “O Chamberlain, tell me the tale of the twain and what befel them and the cause of their long absence.” So he repeated to him the whole story and told him that Nuzhat al-Zaman was his wife and related to him the adventures of Zau al-Makan from first to last. As soon as he had ended his tale, the Wazir sent for the Emirs and Wazirs and Chief Officers and acquainted them with the matter; whereat they rejoiced with great joy and wondered at the happy chance. Then they gathered in a body and went in to the Chamberlain and did their service to him, kissing the ground between his hands; and the Wazir Dandan also rose and went out to meet him and stood before him in honour. After this, the Chamberlain held on that day a Divan council; and he and the Wazir sat upon a throne, whilst all the Emirs and Grandees and Officers of State took their places before them, according to their several ranks.1 Then they melted sugar in rose water and drank, after which the Emirs sat down to hold council and permitted the rest of the host to mount and ride forward leisurely, till they should make an end of their debate and overtake them. So the officers kissed the ground between their hands and mounting, rode onwards, preceded by the standards of war. When the grandees had finished their conference, they took horse and rejoined the host; and the Chamberlain approached the Wazir Dandan and said, “I deem it well to ride on before you, and precede you, that I may get ready a place for the Sultan and notify him of your coming and of your choosing him as Sultan over the head of his brother Sharrkan.” “Aright thou reckest,” answered the Wazir Then the Chamberlain rose up in haste and Dandan also stood up to do him honour and brought him presents, which he conjured him to accept. In similar guise did all the Emirs and Grandees and Officers of State, bringing him gifts and calling down blessings on him and saying to him, “Haply thou wilt mention our case to Sultan Zau al-Makan and speak to him to continue us in our dignities.”2 The Chamberlain promised all they required and bade his pages be ready to march, whereupon the Wazir Dandan sent with him tents and bade the tent pitchers set them up at a day’s journey from the city. And they did his bidding. Then the Chamberlain mounted and rode forward, full of joy and saying to himself, “How blessed is this gurney!”, and indeed his wife was exalted in his eyes, she and her brother Zau al-Makan. They made all haste over their wayfare, till they reached a place distant a day’s journey from Baghdad, where the Chamberlain called a halt for rest, and bade his men alight and make ready a sitting place for the Sultan Zau al-Makan, son of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, while he rode forward with his Mamelukes and, alighting at a distance from Nuzhat al-Zaman’s litter, commanded the eunuchs to ask leave of admission to the presence. They did so and she gave permission; whereupon he went in to her and conversed with her and her brother; and told them of the death of their father; and of Zau al-Makan, how the heads of the people had made him King over them in the stead of his sire; and he gave them joy of the kingdom. They both wept for their father and asked the manner of his being killed; but the Chamberlain answered, “The news rests with the Wazir Dandan who will be here tomorrow leading all the host; and it only remaineth for thee, O King, to do what they counsel, since they have unanimously chosen thee Sultan; for if thou do not this, they will choose some one else and thou canst not be sure of thy life with another Sultan. Haply he will kill thee, or discord may befal between you twain and the kingdom pass out of the hands of both.” Zau al-Makan bowed his head awhile and then said, “I accept this position;” for indeed there was no refusing; and he was certified that the Chamberlain had counselled him well and wisely and set him on the right way. Then he added, “O my uncle, how shall I do with my brother Sharrkan?” “O my son,” replied the Chamberlain, “thy brother will be Sultan of Damascus and thou Sultan of Baghdad; so take heart of grace and get ready thy case.” Zau al-Makan accepted this and the Chamberlain presented him with a suit of royal raiment and a dagger3 of state, which the Wazir Dandan had brought with him; then leaving him he bade the tent pitchers choose a spot of rising ground and set up thereon a spacious pavilion, wherein the Sultan might sit to receive the Emirs and Grandees. Moreover he ordered the kitcheners to cook rich viands and serve them and he commanded the water carriers to dispose the water troughs. They did as he bade them and presently arose a cloud of dust from the ground and spread till it walled the horizon round. After awhile, the dust dispersed and there appeared under it the army of Baghdad and Khorasan, a conquering host like the full tide sea. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 I have derived this word from the Persian “rang”=colour, hue, kind.
2 Otherwise all would be superseded, like U. S. officials under a new President.
3 Arab. “Nímshah” from the Pers. Nímchah, a “half-sword,” a long dagger worn in the belt. Richardson derives it from Namsh, being freckled (damasked).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Chamberlain bade the tent pitchers set up a pavilion spacious enough to receive the subjects flocking to their Sultan, they planted a splendid Sháhmiyánah1 befitting Kings. And as they ended their labours behold, a dust cloud spired aloft and the breeze made it lift and beneath it showed a conquering host; and presently it appeared that this was the army of Baghdad and Khorasan preceded by the Wazir Dandan. And in it all rejoiced at the accession of the “Light of the Place.” Now Zau al-Makan had donned robes of royal estate and girt himself with the sword of state: so the Chamberlain brought him a steed and he mounted surrounded by the Mamelukes and all the company from the tents on foot, to do him service, and he rode on until he came to the great pavilion, where he sat down and he laid the royal dagger across his thighs, whilst the Chamberlain stood in attendance on him and his armed slaves stationed themselves under the entrance awning of the Shahmiyanah, with drawn swords in their hands. Presently, up came the troops and the host and craved admission so the Chamberlain went in to Zau al-Makan and asked his leave whereupon he bade admit them, ten by ten. The Chamberlain acquainted them with the King’s commands, to which they replied, “We hear and we obey;” and all drew up before the pavilion entrance. Then he took ten of them and carried them through the vestibule into the presence of Sultan Zau al-Makan, whom when they saw, they were awed; but he received them with most gracious kindness and promised them all good. So they gave him joy of his safe return and invoked Allah’s blessings upon him after which they took the oath of fealty never to gainsay him in aught and they kissed ground before him and withdrew. Then other ten entered and he entreated them as he had entreated the ethers; and they ceased not to enter, ten by ten, till none was left but the Wazir Dandan. Lastly the Minister went in and kissed the ground before Zau al-Makan, who rose to meet him, saying, “Welcome, O Wazir and sire sans peer! Verily, thine acts are those of a counsellor right dear, and judgement and foreseeing clear are in the hands of the Subtle of Lere.” Then bade he the Chamberlain forthwith go out and cause the tables to be spread and order all the troops thereto. So they came and ate and drank. Moreover the Sultan commanded his Wazir Dandan call a ten days’ halt of the army, that he might be private with him and learn from him how and wherefore his father had been slain. The Wazir obeyed the commands of the Sultan with submission and wished him eternity of glory and said, “This needs must be!” He then repaired to the heart of the encampment and ordered the host to halt ten days. They did as he bade them and, moreover, he gave them leave to divert themselves and ordered that none of the lords in waiting should attend upon the King for service during the space of three days. Then the Wazir went to the Sultan and reported all to him, and Zau al-Makan waited until nightfall, when he went in to his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman and asked her, “Dost thou know the cause of my father’s murder or not?” “I have no knowledge of the cause,” she answered, and drew a silken curtain before herself, whilst Zau al-Makan seated himself without the curtain and commanded the Wazir to the presence and, when he came, said to him, “I desire thou relate to me in detail the cause of the killing of my sire, King Omar bin al-Nu’uman!” “Know then, O King,” replied Dandan, “that King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, when he returned to Baghdad from his chasing and hunting and entered the city, enquired for thee and thy sister, but could not find you and knew that you twain had gone on the Pilgrimage; whereat he was greatly grieved and much angered, and his breast was straitened and he abode thus half a year, seeking news of you from all who came and went but none could give him any tidings. Now while we were in attendance upon him one day, after a whole year had sped since ye were lost to his sight, lo! there came to us an ancient dame with signs of being a devotee, accompanied by five damsels, high bosomed virgins like moons, endowed with such beauty and loveliness as tongue faileth to describe; and, to crown their perfections of comeliness, they could read the Koran and were versed in various kinds of learning and in the histories of bygone peoples. Then that old woman sought audience of the King, and he bade admit her; whereupon she entered the presence and kissed the ground between his hands. I was then sitting by his side and he, seeing in her the signs of asceticism and devoutness, made her draw near and take seat hard by him. And when she had sat down she addressed him and said, ‘Know, O King, that with me are five damsels, whose like no King among the Kings possesseth; for they are endowed with wit and beauty and loveliness and perfection. They read the Koran — and the Traditions and are skilled in all manner of learning and in the history of bygone races. They stand here between thy hands to do thee service, O King of the Age, and it is by trial that folk are prized or despised. ‘Thy father, who hath found mercy;2 looked at the damsels and their favour pleased him; so he said to them, Let each and every of you make me hear something of what she knoweth anent the history of the folk of yore and of peoples long gone before!’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Indian term for a tent large enough to cover a troop of cavalry.
2 Arab. “Marhúm” a formula before noticed. It is borrowed from the Jewish, “of blessed memory” (after the name of the honoured dead, Prov. x. 17.); with the addition of “upon whom be peace,” as opposed to the imprecation, “May the name of the wicked rot!”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan said unto King Zau al-Makan, “Thy father, who hath found mercy, glanced at the damsels and their favour pleased him and he said to them, ‘Let each and every of you make me hear something of what she knoweth anent the history of the folk of yore and of peoples long gone before!’ Thereupon one of them came forward and, kissing the ground before him, spake as follows1 ‘Know, O King, that it behoveth one of good breeding to eschew impertinence and adorn himself with excellencies, and observe the Divine injunctions and avoid mortal sins; and to this he should apply himself with the assiduity of one who, if he stray therefrom, falleth into perdition; for the foundation of good breeding is virtuous behaviour. And know that the chief cause and reason of man’s existence is the endeavour after life everlasting, and the right way thereto is the service of Allah. Wherefore it behoveth thee to deal beneficently with the people: and swerve not from this canon, for the mightier men are in dignity, the more their need of prudence and foresight; and indeed Monarchs need this more than the many, for the general cast themselves into affairs, without taking thought to the issue thereof. Be thou prodigal of thy life and thy good in the way of Allah, and know that, if an enemy dispute with thee, thou mayst dispute with him and refute him with proofs and be proof against him; but as for thy friend, there is none can judge between thee and him save righteousness and fair dealing. Choose, therefore, thy friend for thyself, after thou hast proved him. If he be of the brotherhood of futurity,2 let him be zealous in observing the externals of the Holy Law and versed in its inner meaning, as far as may be; and if he be of the brotherhood of the world, let him be free born, sincere, neither a fool nor a perverse, for the fool man is such that even his parents might well flee from him, and a liar cannot be a true friend. Indeed the word, Siddík3 (‘friend’) deriveth from Sidk (‘truth’) that welleth up from the bottom of the heart; and how can this be the case, when falsehood is manifest upon the tongue? And know, that the observance of the Law profiteth him who practiseth it: so love thy brother, if he be of this quality and do not cast him off, even if thou see in him that which irketh thee, for a friend is not I like a wife, whom one can divorce and re-marry: nay, his heart is like glass: once broken, it may not be mended. And Allah bless him who saith,
‘Ware how thou hurtest man with hurt of heart;
’Tis hard to win thee back the heart offended:
For hearts indeed, whence love is alien made,
Like broken glass may nevermore be mended.’
The maiden continued and concluded with pointing out to us what sages say, ‘The best of brethren is he who is the most constant in good counsel; the best of action is that which is fairest in its consequence, and the best of praise is not that which is in the mouths of men. It is also said, ‘It behoveth not the servant to neglect thanking Allah especially for two favours, health and reason.’ Again it is said, ‘Whoso honoureth himself, his lust is a light matter to him, and he who maketh much of his small troubles, Allah afflicteth him with the greater; he who obeyeth his own inclination neglecteth his duties and he who listeneth to the slanderer loseth the true friend. He who thinketh well of thee, do thou fulfill his thought of thee. He who exceedeth in contention sinneth, and he who against upright standeth not on ward, is not safe from the sword. Now will I tell thee somewhat of the duties of Kazis and judges. Know, O King, that no judgement serveth the cause of justice save it be given after proof positive, and it behoveth the judge to treat all people on the same level, to the intent that the great may not hunger for oppression nor the small despair of justice. Furthermore he should extract proof from the complainant and impose an oath upon the defendant; and mediation is admissible between Moslems, except it be a compromise sanctioning the unlawful or forbidding the lawful.4 If thou shalt have done aught during the day, of which thy reason is doubtful but thy good intention is proved, thou (O Kazi) shouldst revert to the right, for to do justice is a religious obligation and to return to that which is right is better than persistence in wrong. Then (O judge) thou shouldest study precedents and the law of the case and do equal justice between the suitors, withal fixing thine eyes upon the truth and committing thine affair to Allah (be He extolled and exalted!). And require thou proof of the complainant, and if he adduce evidence let him have due benefit of it; and if not, put the defendant to his oath; for this is the ordinance of Allah. Receive thou the testimony of competent Moslem witnesses, one against other, for Almighty Allah hath commanded judges to judge by externals, He Himself taking charge of the inner and secret things. It behoveth the judge also to avoid giving judge meet, whilst suffering from stress of pain or hunger,5 and that in his decisions between folk he seek the face of Allah Almighty for he whose intent is pure and who is at peace with himself, Allah shall guarantee him against what is between him and the people.’ Quoth al-Zuhri,6 ‘There are three things for which, if they be found in a Kazi, he should be deposed; namely, if he honour the base, if he love praise and if he fear dismissal. And Omar bin Abd al-Aziz once deposed a Kazi, who asked him, ‘Why hast thou dismissed me? It hath reached me,’ answered Omar, ‘that thy converse is greater than thy condition.’ It is said also that Iskandar7 said to his Kazi, ‘I have invested thee with this function and committed to thee in it my soul and mine honour and my manliness; so do thou guard it with thy sense and thine understanding.’ To his Cook he said, ‘Thou art the Sultan of my body; so look thou tender it as thine own self.’ To his Secretary he said, ‘Thou art the controller of my wit: so do thou watch over me in what thou writest for me and from me.’” Thereupon the first damsel backed out from the presence and a second damsel came forward. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The speeches of the five damsels should be read only by students.
2 i.e. Those who look for “another and a better.”
3 The title of Caliph Abu Bakr because he bore truthful witness to the Apostle’s mission or, others say, he confirmed the “Mi’ráj” or nocturnal journey to Heaven.
4 All this is Koranic (chaps. ii., etc.).
5 This may have applied more than once to “hanging judges” in the Far West.
6 A traditionist and jurisconsult of Al–Medinah in the seventh and eighth centuries.
7 The Alexander of the Koran and Eastern legends, not to be confounded with the Alexander of Macedon. He will be noticed in a future Night.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan said to Zau al-Makan, “Thereupon the first damsel backed out from the presence and a second damsel came forward and, kissing the ground seven times before the King thy father, spake as follows, ‘The sage Lukmán1 said to his son, ‘There be three who are known only in three several cases; the merciful man is unknown save in time of wrath, the brave only in battle, and thy friend in time of need.’ It is said that the oppressor shall be depress though by people praised, and that the oppress is at rest though by people blamed. Quoth Allah Almighty,2 ‘Assuredly deem not that those who rejoice in what they have done, and who love to be praised for what they have not done, shall escape reckoning of punishment: indeed there is reserved for them a grievous penalty.’ And he said3 (on whom be salvation and salutation!), ‘Works are according to intention and to each man is attributed that which he intendeth.’ He said also, ‘In the body is a part which being sound the rest is sound, and which being unsound the whole is unsound.’ And this is the heart. Now this heart is the most marvellous of what is in man, since it is that which ordereth his whole affair: If covetise stir in it, desire destroyeth him, and if affliction master it, anguish slayeth him; if anger rage in it, danger is hard upon him; if it be blest with contentment, he is safe from discontent; if fear surprise it, he is full of mourning; and if calamity overtake it, affliction betideth him. If a man gain the use of wealth, peradventure he is diverted thereby from the remembrance of his Lord; if poverty choke him his heart is distracted by woe, or if disquietude waste his heart, weakness causeth him to fall. Thus, in any case, nothing profiteth him but that he be mindful of Allah and occupy himself with gaining his livelihood in this world and securing his place in the next. It was asked of a certain sage, ‘Who is the most ill conditioned of men?’; and he answered, ‘The man whose lusts master his manhood and whose mind soareth over high, so that his knowledge dispreadeth and his excuse diminisheth; and how excellently saith the poet,
Freest am I of all mankind fro’ meddling wight
Who, seeing others err, self error ne’er can sight:
Riches and talents are but loans to creature lent,
Each wears the cloak of that he bears in breast and sprite:
If by mistaken door attempt on aught thou make,
Thou shalt go wrong and if the door be right, go right!’
Continued the maiden, ‘As for anecdotes of devotees, quoth Hisham bin Bashar, ‘I asked Omar bin Ubayd, What is true piety?’; and he answered, ‘The Apostle of Allah (to whom be salutation and salvation!) hath explained it when he sayeth, The pious is he who forgetteth not the grave nor calamity and who preferreth that which endureth to that which passeth away; who counteth not the morrow as of his days but reckoneth himself among the dead.’ And it is related that Abu Zarr4 used to say, Want is dearer to me than wealth, and unheal is dearer to me than health.’ Quoth one of the listeners, ‘May Allah have mercy on Abu Zarr!’. For my part, I say, ‘Whoso putteth his trust in the goodness of the election of Almighty Allah should be content with that condition which Allah hath chosen for him.’ Quoth one of the Companions of the Prophet, ‘Ibn Abi Aufa5 once prayed with us the dawn prayer. When he had done, he recited, ‘O Thou Enwrapped!’6 till he came to where Allah saith, ‘When there shall be a trumping on the trumpet,’ and fell down dead. It is said that Sabit al-Banani wept till he well nigh lost his eyes. They brought him a man to medicine him who said to him, ‘I will cure thee, provided thou obey my bidding’ Asked Sabit, ‘In what matter?’ Quoth the leach, ‘In that thou leave weeping!’ ‘What is the worth of mine eyes?’, rejoined Sabit, ‘if they do not weep?’ Quoth a man to Mohammed bin Abdillah, ‘Exhort thou me!’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Æsop, according to the Arabs: of him or rather of the two Lukmans, more presently.
2 Koran ii. 185.
3 Mohammed.
4 One of the Asháb or Companions of Mohammed.
5 A noted traditionist at Cufa in the seventh century.
6 Koran, chaps. lxxiv. I (and verse 8 follows). The Archangel Gabriel is supposed to address Mohammed and not a few divines believe this Surah (chapter) to have been first revealed. Mr. Rodwell makes it No. ii. following the Fatrah or silent interval which succeeded No. xcvi. “Clots of Blood.” See his 2nd Edit. p. 3 for further details.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan said to Zau al-Makan, “Thus spake the second hand maid to the King who hath found mercy, Omar bin al-Nu’uman. ‘Quoth a man to Mohammed bin Abdillah, Exhort thou me!’ ‘I exhort thee,’ replied he, ‘to be a self ruler, an abstainer in this world, and in the next a greedy slave.’ ‘How so?’ asked the other and Mohammed answered, ‘The abstinent man in this world conquereth both the world that is and the world to come.’ And quoth Ghaus bin Abdillah, ‘There were two brothers among the sons of Israel, one of whom said to the other, ‘What be the most perilous1 thing thou hast done?’ Replied the brother, ‘I once came upon a nest of young birds; so I took out one and threw it back into the nest; but among the chickens were some which drew apart from it. This is the most perilous thing I ever did; now what be the most perilous thing thou hast ever done?’ He rejoined, ‘When I arise for prayer I am fearful that it is only for the sake of the reward.’ Now their father heard these words and exclaimed, ‘O Allah, an say they sooth take them to Thyself!’ It was declared by one of the wise men, ‘Verily, these were of the most virtuous of children.’ Quoth Sa’íd bin Jubayr,2 ‘I was once in company with Fuzalah bin ‘Ubaydand said to him, ‘Exhort thou me!, Replied he, ‘Bear in mind these two necessaries, Shun syntheism3 and harm not any of Allah’s creatures.’ And he repeated these two couplets,
‘Be as thou wilt, for Allah still is bounteous Lord,
And care dispeller dread not therefore bane and ban
To two things only never draw thee nigh, nor give
Partner to Allah trouble to thy brother man.’
And how well saith the poet,
‘An thou of pious works a store neglect
And after death meet one who did collect,
Thou shalt repent thou diddest not as he,
Nor madest ready as he did elect.’
Then the third damsel came forward, after the second had with drawn, and said, ‘Of a truth, the chapter of piety is exceeding wide; but I will mention what occurreth to me thereof, concerning the pious of old. Quoth a certain holy man, ‘I congratulate myself in death, though I am not assured of rest therein, save that I know death interveneth between a man and his works; so I hope for the doubling of good works and the docking off of ill works.’ And Ita’a al Salami, when he had made an end of an exhortation, was wont to tremble and grieve and weep sore; and as they asked him why he did this he answered, ‘I desire to enter upon a grave matter, and it is the standing up before Almighty Allah to do in accordance with my exhortation.’ In similar guise Zayn al-Abidín,4 son of Al–Husayn, was wont to tremble when he rose to pray. Being asked the cause of this, he replied, ‘Know ye not before whom I stand and whom I address?’ It is said that there lived near Sufyán al-Thauri5 a blind man who, when the month of Ramazan came, went out with the folk to pray,6 but remained silent and hung back. Said Sufyan, ‘On the Day of Resurrection he shall come with the people of the Koran and they will be distinguished by increase of honour from their fellows.’ Quoth Sufyan, ‘Were the soul established in the heart as befitteth, it would fly away for joy and pining for Paradise, and for grief and fear of hell-fire.’ It is related also of Sufyan Al–Thauri that he said, ‘To look upon the face of a tyrant is a sin.’ Then the third damsel retired and came for ward the fourth, who said, ‘Here am I to treat of sundry traditions of pious men which suggest themselves to me. It is related that Bishr Barefoot7 said, ‘I once heard Khálid say, ‘Beware of secret polytheism.’ I asked, ‘What may secret polytheism be?’; and he answered, ‘When one of you in praying prolong his inclinations and prostrations till a cause of impurity8 come upon him.’ And one of the sages said, ‘Doing works of weal expiateth what is ill.’ Quoth Ibrahim,9 ‘I supplicated Bishr Barefoot to acquaint me with some theological mysteries; but he said, ‘O my son, this knowledge it behoveth us not to teach to every one; of every hundred five, even as the legal alms upon money.’ Said Ibrahim, ‘I thought his reply excellent and approved of it and while I was praying behold, Bishr was also praying: so I stood behind him10 making the prayer bow till the Mu’ezzin called his call. Then rose a man of tattered appearance and said, O folk, beware of a truth which bringeth unweal, for there is no harm in a lie bringing weal,11 and in time of need no choice we heed: speech booteth not in the absence of good qualities even as silence hurteth not in the presence of good. Presently I saw Bishr drop a danik,12 so I picked it up and exchanged it for a dirham which I gave him. Quoth he, ‘I will not take it.’ Quoth I, ‘It is perfectly lawful change’; but he rejoined ‘I cannot take in exchange the riches of the present world for those of the future world.’ It is related also that Bishr Barefoot’s sister once went to Ahmad bin Hanbal”13 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. dangerous to soul-health.
2 In the Mac. Edit. “Abd” for “Sa’id.” The latter was a black and a native of Cufa during the first century (A.H ) and is still famous as a traditionist.
3 Arab. “Shirk,” giving a partner to Allah, attending chiefly to Christians and idolaters and in a minor degree to Jews and Guebres. We usually English it by “polytheism,” which is clumsy and conveys a wrong idea
4 Grandson of the Caliph Ali. He is one of the Imams (High-priests) of the Shi’ah school.
5 An eminent traditionist of the eighth century (A.D.).
6 The prayers of the Fast-month and Pilgrimage-month are often said in especial places outside the towns and cities; these are the Indian Id(Eed-)gáh. They have a screen of wall about a hundred yards long with a central prayer-niche and the normal three steps for the preacher; and each extremity is garnished with an imitation minaret. They are also called Namáz-gah and one is sketched by Herklots (Plate iii. fig. 2). The object of the trips thither in Zu’l-Ka’adah and Zu’l-Hijjah is to remind Moslems of the “Ta’aríf,” or going forth from Meccah to Mount Arafat.
7 Arab. “Al-Háfi,” which in Egyptian means sore-footed as well. He was an ascetic of the eighth and ninth centuries (A.D.). He relates a tradition of the famous soldier saint Khálid bin Walíd who lies buried like the poet Ka’ab al-Ahbár near Hums (Emessa) once the Bœotia, Phrygia, Abdera, Suabia of Syria now Halbun (pronounced Halbáun) near Damascus. I cannot explain how this Kuraysh noble (a glorious figure in Moslem history) is claimed by the Afghans as one of their countrymen and made to speak Pukhtu or Pushtu, their rough old dialect of Persian. The curious reader will consult my Pilgrimage iii. 322 for the dialogue between Mohammed and Khalid. Again there is general belief in Arabia that the English sent a mission to the Prophet, praying that Khalid might be despatched to proselytise them: unfortunately Mohammed was dead and the “Ingríz” ratted. It is popularly held that no armed man can approach Khalid’s grave; but I suppose my revolver did not count.
8 When he must again wash before continuing prayer.
9 Bin Adham; another noted ascetic of the eighth century. Those curious about these unimportant names will consult the great Biographical Dictionary of Ibn Khallikan, translated by Baron MacGuckin de Slane (1842–45).
10 Thus making Bishr the “Imám” (artistes) lit. one who stands in front. In Koran xvii. 74 it means “leader”: in ii. 118 Allah makes Abraham an “Imam to mankind.”
11 A favourite sentiment in the East: we find it at the very beginning of Sa’di’s Gulistan: better a weal-bringing lie than a harm-dealing truth.
12 A penny, one sixth of the drachma.
13 Founder of the Hanbali, fourth (in date) of the four orthodox Moslem schools. The Caliph al-Mu’atasim bi’llah, son of Harun al-Rashid, who believed the Koran to have been created and not a Logos (whatever that may be), co-eternal with Allah, scourged this Imam severely for “differing in opinion” (A.H. 220=833). In fact few of the notable reverends of that day escaped without a caress of the scourge or the sword.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan continued to bespeak Zau al-Makan on this wise, “And quoth the maiden to thy father, ‘Bishr Barefoot’s sister once went to Ahmad bin Hanbal and said to him, ‘O Imam of the Faith, we are a family that spin thread by night and work for our living by day; and oftentimes the cressets of the watch of Baghdad pass by and we on the roof spinning by their light. Is this forbidden to us?’ Asked Ahmad:‘Who are thou?’ ‘I am the sister of Bishr Barefoot,’ answered she. Rejoined the Iman, ‘O household of Bishr, I shall never cease to drink full draughts of piety from your hearts.’ Quoth one of the sages, ‘When Allah willeth well to His servant He openeth upon him the gate of action.’ Málik bin Dinár,1 when he passed through the bazar and saw aught he desired, was wont to say, ‘O soul, take patience, for I will not accord to thee what thou desirest.’ He said also (Allah accept him!), ‘The salvation of the soul lies in resistance to it and its damnation in submission to it.’ Quoth Mansúr bin Ammár,2 ‘I made a pilgrimage and was faring Meccahwards by way of Cufa, and the night was overcast, when I heard a voice crying out from the deeps of the darkness saying, ‘O Allah, I swear by Thy Greatness and Thy Glory, I meant not through my disobedience to transgress against Thee; for indeed I am not ignorant of Thee; but my fault is one Thou didst foreordain to me from eternity without beginning;3 so do Thou pardon my transgression, for indeed I disobeyed Thee of my ignorance!’ When he had made an end of his prayer he recited aloud the verse, ‘O true believers, save your souls and those of your families from the fire whose fuel is men and stones.’4 Then I heard a fall, but not knowing what it was I passed on. When the morning morrowed, as we went our way, behold, we fell in with a funeral train, followed by an old woman whose strength had left her. I asked her of the dead, and she answered, ‘This is the funeral of a man who passed by us yesterday whilst my son was standing at prayer and after his prayers he recited a verse from the Book of Allah Almighty when the man’s gall bladder burst and he fell dead.’ Therewith the fourth damsel retired and the fifth came forward and said, ‘I here will also repeat what occurreth to me regarding the acts of devotees in olden time. Maslamah bin Dinár used to say, ‘By making sound the secret thoughts, sins great and small are covered’; and, ‘when the servant of Allah is resolved to leave sinning, victory cometh to him.’ Also quoth he, ‘Every worldly good which doth not draw one nearer to Allah is a calamity, for a little of this world distracteth from a mickle of the world to come and a mickle of the present maketh thee forget the whole of the future.’ It was asked of Abú Házim,5 ‘Who is the most prosperous of men?’; and he answered, ‘Whoso spendeth his life in submission to Allah.’ The other enquired, ‘And who is the most foolish of mankind?’ ‘Whoso selleth his future for the worldly goods of others,’ replied Abu Hazim. It is reported of Moses6 (on whom be peace!) that when he came to the waters of Midian he exclaimed, ‘O Lord, verily I stand in need of the good which thou shalt send down to me.’7 And he asked of his Lord and not of his folk. There came two damsels and he drew water for them both and allowed not the shepherds to draw first. When the twain returned, they informed their father Shu’ayb (on whom be peace!) who said, ‘Haply, he is hungry,’ adding to one of them, ‘Go back to him and bid him hither.’ Now when she came to Moses, she veiled her face and said, ‘My father biddeth thee to him that he may pay thee thy wage for having drawn water for us.’ Moses was averse to this and was not willing to follow her. Now she was a woman large in the back parts, and the wind blowing upon her garment8 covered the hinder cheeks to Moses; which when Moses saw, he lowered his eyes and said to her, ‘Get thee behind while I walk in front.’ So she followed him till he entered the house of Shu’ayb where supper was ready.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A learned man of the eighth century at Bassorah (A.D.).
2 A traditionist of Khorasan in the ninth century (A.D.).
3 “Azal,” opp. to “Abad,” eternity without end, infinity.
4 Koran lxvi. 6.
5 A traditionist of Al–Medinah, eighth century (A.D.).
6 Arab. “Músá”: the Egyptian word was “Mesu,” the “child” or the “boy” (brought up in the palace?), and the Hebrews made it “Mosheh” or “one drawn out of the water;” “Mu” in Egypt being water, the Arab “Ma”; whence probably the moderns have derived the dim. “Moyeh,” vulg. Egyptian for water.
7 Koran, chaps. xxviii.: Shu’ayb is our Jethro: Koran, chaps. vii. and xi. Mr. Rodwell suggests (p. 101) that the name has been altered from Hobab (Numb. x. 29).
8 Arab. “Taub” (Saub), the long shirt popularly written in English Tobe and pronounced so by Egyptians. It is worn by both sexes (Lane, M. E. chaps. i. “Tob”) in Egypt, and extends into the heart of Moslem Africa: I can compare it with nothing but a long nightgown dyed a dirty yellow by safflower and about as picturesque as a carter’s smock-frock.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan, “Now, quoth the fifth damsel to thy sire, ‘When Moses (on whom be peace!) entered the home of Shu’ayb where supper was ready, Shu’ayb said to him, ‘O Moses, I desire to pay thee thy wage for having drawn water for these two.’ But Moses answered, ‘I am of a household which selleth nothing of the fashion of the next world1 for what is on earth of gold and silver.’ Then quoth Shu’ayb, ‘O youth! nevertheless thou art my guest, and it is my wont and that of my forbears to honour the guest by setting food before him.’ So Moses sat down and ate. Then Shu’ayb hired Moses for eight pilgrimages, that is to say, eight years, and made his wage marriage with one of his two daughters, and Moses’ service to him was to stand for her dowry. As saith the Holy Writ of him, ‘Verily I will give thee one of these my two daughters in marriage, on condition that thou serve me for hire eight pilgrimages: and if thou fulfil ten years, it is in thine own breast; for I seek not to impose a hardship on thee.’2 A certain man once said to one of his friends whom he had not met for many days, ‘Thou hast made me desolate, for that I have not seen thee this long while.’ Quoth the other, ‘I have been distracted from thee by Ibn Shiháb: dost thou know him?’ Quoth his friend, ‘Yes, he hath been my neighbour these thirty years, but I have never spoken to him.’ He replied, ‘Verily thou forgettest Allah in forgetting — thy neighbour! If thou lovedst Allah thou wouldst love thy neighbour. Knowest thou not that a neighbour hath a claim upon his neighbour,3 even as the right of kith and kin?’ Said Huzayfah, ‘We entered Meccah with Ibráhím bin Adham, and Shakík al-Balkhí was also making a pilgrimage that year. Now we met whilst circumambulating the Ka’abah and Ibrahim said to Shakik, ‘What is your fashion in your country?’ Replied Shakik, ‘When we are blest with our daily bread we eat, and when we hunger we take patience.’ ‘This wise,’ said Ibrahim, ‘do the dogs of Balkh; but we, when blest with plenty, do honour to Allah and when an hungered we thank Him.’ And Shakik seated himself before Ibrahim and said to him, ‘Thou art my master.’ Also said Mohammed bin Imrán, ‘A man once asked of Hátim the Deaf4 ‘What maketh thee to trust in Allah?’ ‘Two things,’ answered he, ‘I know that none save myself shall eat my daily bread, so my heart is at rest as to that; and I know that I was not created without the knowledge of Allah, and am abashed before Him.’ Then the fifth damsel retired and the ancient dame came forward and, kissing the ground before thy father nine times, said, ‘Thou hast heard, O King, what these all have spoken on the subject of piety; and I will follow their example in relating what hath reached me of the famous men of past times. It is said that the Imam al-Sháfi’í departed the night into three portions, the first for study, the second for sleep and the third for prayer. The Imam Abú Hanífah5 was wont also to pass half the night in prayer. One day a man pointed him out to another, as he walked by and remarked, ‘Yonder man watcheth the whole night.’ When he heard this Abu Hanifah said, ‘I was abashed before Allah to hear myself praised for what was not in me’; so after this he used to watch the whole night. And one of the Sages hath said,
‘Who seeketh for pearl in the Deep dives deep;
Who on high would hie robs his night of sleep.’
Al–Rabí a relates that Al–Shafi’i used to recite the whole Koran seventy times during the month of Ramazan, and that in his daily prayers. Quoth Al–Shafi’i (Allah accept him!), ‘During ten years I never ate my fill of barley bread, for fullness hardeneth the heart and deadeneth the wit and induceth sleep and enfeebleth one from standing up to pray.’6 It is reported of Abdullah bin Mohammed al-Sakrá that he said, ‘I was once talking with Omar and he observed to me, ‘Never saw I a more God fearing or eloquent man than Mohammed bin Idris al-Shafi’i.’ It so happened I went out one day with Al-Háris bin Labíb al-Saffár, who was a disciple of Al–Muzani7 and had a fine voice and he read the saying of the Almighty, ‘This shall be a day whereon they shall not speak to any purpose, nor shall they be permitted to excuse themselves.’8 I saw Al–Shafi’i’s colour change; his skin shuddered with horripilation, he was violently moved and he fell down in a fainting fit When he revived he said, ‘I take refuge with Allah from the stead of the liars and the lot of the negligent! O Allah, before whom the hearts of the wise abase themselves, O Allah, of Thy bene ficence accord to me the remission of my sins, adorn me with the curtain of Thy protection and pardon me my shortcomings, by the magnanimity of Thy Being!’ Then I rose and went away. Quoth one of the pious, ‘When I entered Baghdad, Al–Shafi’i was there. So I sat down on the river bank to make the ablution before prayer; and behold, there passed me one who said, ‘O youth, make thy Wuzu-ablution well and Allah will make it well for thee in this world and in the next.’ I turned and lo! there was a man behind whom came a company of people. So I hastened to finish my ablution and followed him. Presently, he turned and asked me, ‘Say, dost thou want aught?’ ‘Yes,’ answered I, ‘I desire that thou teach me somewhat of that which Allah Almighty hath taught thee.’ He said, ‘Know then that whoso believeth in Allah shall be saved, and whoso jealously loveth his faith shall be delivered from destruction, and whoso practiseth abstinence in this world, his eyes shall be solaced on the morrow of death. Shall I tell thee any more?’ I replied, ‘Assuredly;’ and he continued, ‘Be thou of the world that is, heedless; and of the world to come, greediest. Be truthful in all thy dealings, and thou shalt be saved with the Salvationists.’ Then he went on and I asked about him and was told that he was the Imam Al–Shafi’i. Al–Shafi’i was wont to remark, ‘I love to see folk profit by this learning of mine, on condition that nothing of it be attributed to me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 There is nothing of this in the Koran; and it is a most unhappy addition, as Moses utterly and pretentiously ignored a “next world.”
2 Koran xxviii. 22–27. Mohammed evidently confounded the contract between Laban and Jacob. (Gen. xxix. 15–39.)
3 So says Al–Hariri (Ass. of Sasan), “The neighbour before the house and the traveller before the journey.” In certain cities the neighbourhood is the real detective police, noting every action and abating scandals (such as orgies, etc.) with a strong hand and with the full consent of public opinion and of the authorities. This loving the neighbour shows evident signs of being borrowed from Christianity.
4 Al–Asamm a theologian of Balkh, ninth century (A.D.).
5 The founder of the Senior School, for which see Sale Prel. Disc. sect. viii.
6 Thus serving the Lord by sinning against his own body.
7 An Egyptian doctor of the law (ninth century).
8 Koran lxxvii. 35, 36. This is one of the earliest and most poetical chapters of the book.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan, “The old woman bespake thy sire, saying, ‘The Imam Al–Shafi’i was wont to remark, I love to see folk profit by this learning of mine on condition that nothing of it be attributed to me.’ He also said, ‘I never disputed with any one, but I would that Almighty Allah should give him the knowledge of the Truth and aid him to dispread it: nor did I ever dispute with anyone at all but for the showing forth of the Truth, and I reck not whether Allah manifest it by my tongue or by His.’ He said also (whom Allah accept!), ‘If thou fear to grow conceited of thy lore, then bethink thee Whose grace thou seekest and for what good thou yearnest and what punishment thou dreadest.’ It was told to Abu Hanífah that the Commander of the Faithful, Abú Ja’afar al-Mansúr, had appointed him Kazi and ordered him a salary of ten thousand dirhams; but he would not accept of this; and, when the day came on which the money was to be paid him, he prayed the dawn prayer, then covered his head with his robe — and spoke not. When the Caliph’s messenger came with the money, he went in to the Imam and accosted him, but he would not speak to him. So the messenger said, ‘Verily this money is lawfully thine.’ ‘I know that it is lawfully mine,’ replied he: ‘but I abhor that the love of tyrants get a hold upon my heart.’1 Asked the other, ‘If thou go in to them canst thou not guard thyself from loving them?’ Answered Abu Hanifah, ‘Can I look to enter the sea without my clothes being wet?’ Another of Al–Shafi’i’s sayings (Allah accept him!) is,
‘Oh soul of me, an thou accept my rede,
Thou shalt be wealthy and of grace entire:
Cast off ambitious hopes and vain desires,
How many a death was done by vain desire!’
Among the sayings of Sufyán al-Thaurí, with which he admonished Ali bin al-Hasan al-Salami was, ‘Be thou a man of truth and ‘ware lies and treachery and hypocrisy and pride. Be not indebted save to Him who is merciful to His debtors; and let thine associate be one who shall dissociate thee from the world. Be ever mindful of death and be constant in craving pardon of Allah and in beseeching of Allah peace for what remaineth of thy life. Counsel every True Believer, when he asketh thee concerning the things of his faith; and beware of betraying a Believer, for whoso betrayeth a Believer, betrayeth Allah and His Apostle. Avoid dissensions and litigation; and leave that which causeth doubt in thee for things which breed no doubt:2 so shalt thou be at peace. Enjoin beneficence and forbid malevolence: so shalt thou be loved of Allah. Adorn thine inner man and Allah shall adorn thine outer man. Accept the excuse of him who excuseth self to thee and hate not any one of the Moslems. Draw near unto those who withdraw from thee and excuse those that misuse thee: so shalt thou be the friend of the Prophets. Let thine affairs, both public and private, be in Allah’s charge, and fear Him with the fear of one who knoweth he is dead and who fareth towards Resurrection and Judgement stead between the hands of the Lord of Dread; and remember that to one of two houses thou art sped, either for Heavens eterne or to the Hell fires that burn.’ Thereupon the old woman sat down beside the damsels. Now when thy father, who hath found mercy, heard their discourse, he knew that they were the most accomplished of the people of their time; and, seeing their beauty and loveliness and the extent of their wisdom and lore, he showed them all favour. Moreover, he turned to the ancient dame and treated her with honour, and set apart for her and her damsels the palace which had lodged Princess Abrizah, daughter of the King of Greece, to which he bade carry all the luxuries they needed. They abode with him ten days and the old woman abode with them; and, whenever the King visited them, he found her absorbed in prayer, watching by night and fasting by day; whereby love of her took hold upon his heart and he said to me, ‘O Wazir, verily this old woman is of the pious, and awe of her is strong in my heart.’ Now on the eleventh day, the King visited her, that he might pay her the price of the damsels; but she said to him, ‘O King, know that the price of these maidens surpasseth the competence of men; indeed I seek not for them either gold or silver or jewels, be it little or much.’ Now when thy father heard these words he wondered and asked her, ‘O my lady and what is their price?’; whereto she answered, ‘I will not sill them to thee save on condition that thou fast, watching by night a whole month, and abstaining by day, all for the love of Allah Almighty; and, if thou do this, they are thy property to use in thy palace as thou please.’ So the King wondered at the perfection of her rectitude and piety and abnegation; she was magnified in his eyes and he said, ‘Allah make this pious woman to profit us!’ Then he agreed with her to fast for a month as she had stipulated, and she said to him, ‘I will help thee with the prayers I pray for thee and now bring me a gugglet of water.’ They brought one and she took it and recited over it and muttered spells, and sat for an hour speaking in speech no one understood or knew aught thereof. Lastly she covered it with a cloth and, sealing it with her signet ring, gave it to thy sire, saying, ‘When thou hast fasted the first ten days, break thy fast on the eleventh night with what is in this gugglet, for it will root out the love of the world from thy heart and fill it with light and faith. As for me, tomorrow I will go forth to my brethren, the Invisible3 Controuls, for I yearn after them, and I will return to thee when the first ten days are past. Thy father took the gugglet and arose and set it apart in a closet of his palace, then locked the door and put the key in his pocket. Next day the King fasted and the old woman went her ways.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Abu Hanifah was scourged for refusing to take office and was put to death in prison, it is said by poison (A.H. 150=A.D. 767), for a judicial sentence authorising rebellion against the second Abbaside, Al–Mansur, surnamed Abu’l-Dawánik (Father of Pence) for his exceeding avarice.
2 “Lá rayba fí-hi” says the Koran (ii. 1) of itself; and the saying is popularly applied to all things of the Faith.
3 Arab. “Rivál al-Ghayb,” somewhat like the “Himalayan Brothers” of modern superstition. See Herklots (Qanoon-e-Islam) for a long and careful description of these “Mardán-i-Ghayb” (Pers.), a “class of people mounted on clouds,” invisible, but moving in a circular orbit round the world, and suggesting the Hindu “Lokapálas.” They should not be in front of the traveller nor on his right, but either behind or on his left hand. Hence tables, memorial couplets and hemistichs are required to ascertain the station, without which precaution journeys are apt to end badly.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan thus continued to Zau al-Makan, “Now when came the day for the Sultan’s fast, the old woman went her ways. And after he had accomplished the ten days thereof, on the eleventh he opened the gugglet and drank what was therein and found it cordial to his stomach. Within the second ten days of the month the old woman returned, bringing sweetmeats wrapped in a green leaf, like no leaf of known tree. She went in to thy sire and saluted him; and, when he saw her, he rose to her saying, ‘Welcome, O pious lady!’ ‘O King,’ quoth she, ‘the Invisible Controuls salute thee, for I told them of thee, and they rejoiced in thee and have sent thee their Halwá,1 which is of the sweetmeats of the other world. Do thou break thy fast on it at the end of the day.’ The King rejoiced at this with great joy, and exclaimed, ‘Praised be Allah, who hath given me brethren of the Invisible World!’ Thereupon he thanked the ancient dame and kissed her hands; and he honoured her and the damsels with exceeding honour. She went forth for the twenty days of thy father’s fast at the end of which time she came to him and said, ‘Know, O King, that I told the Invisible Controuls of the love which is between me and thee, and informed them how I had left the maidens with thee, and they were glad that the damsels should belong to a King like thee; for they were wont, when they saw them, to be strenuous in offering on their behalf prayers and petitions ever granted. So I would fain carry them to the Invisible Controuls that they may benefit by the breath of their favour, and peradventure, they shall not return to thee without some treasure of the treasures of the earth, that thou, after completing thy fast, mayst occupy thyself with their raiment and help thyself by the money they shall bring thee, to the extent of thy desires.’ When thy sire heard her words, he thanked her for them and said, ‘Except that I fear to cross thee, I would not accept the treasure or aught else; but when wilt thou set out with them?’ Replied she, ‘On the seven and twentieth night; and I will bring them back to thee at the head of the month, by which time thou wilt have accomplished thy fast and they will have had their courses and be free from impurity; and they shall become thine and be at thy disposal. By Allah, each damsel of them is worth many times thy kingdom!’ He said, ‘I know it, O pious lady!’ Then quoth the old woman, ‘There is no help but that thou send with them someone in thy palace who is dear to thee, that she may find solace and seek a blessing of the Invisible Controuls.’ Quoth he, ‘I have a Greek slave called Sophia, by whom I have been blessed with two children, a girl and a boy; but they were lost; years ago. Take her with thee that she may get the blessing’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A sweetmeat before noticed.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan, “Quoth thy sire to the ancient woman when she demanded the handmaids of him, ‘I have a Greek slave called Sophia, by whom I have been blest with two children, a girl and a boy, but they were lost years ago; so take her with thee, haply she may get the benediction and, belike, the Invisible Controuls will sue Allah for her that her two children may be restored to her.’ ‘Thou hast said well,’ replied she; ‘for that indeed was her grievousest want.’ Thy sire gave not over finishing his fast till the old woman said to him, ‘O my son, I am going to the Invisible Controuls; so bring me Sophia.’ Accordingly, he summoned her and she came forthright, and he delivered her to the old woman who mixed her up with the other damsels. Then she went in to her chamber and bringing out a sealed cup, presented it to the Sultan saying, ‘On the thirtieth day, do thou repair to the Hammam and when thou comest out, enter one of the closets in thy palace and drink what is in this cup. Then sleep, and thou shalt attain what thou seekest, and peace be with thee’! Thereat the King was glad and thanked her and kissed her hands. Quoth she, ‘I commend thee to Allah’s care;’ whereat quoth he, ‘And when shall I see thee again, O pious lady? In very sooth I love not to part with thee.’ Then she called down blessings on him and departed with the five damsels and the Queen; whilst the King fasted after her departure other three days, till the month ended, when he arose and went to the Hammam and coming out shut himself up in a closet of his palace, commanding that none should go in to him. There, after making fast the door, he drank what was in the cup and lay down to sleep; and we sat awaiting him till the end of the day, but he did not come out and we said, ‘Perchance he is tired with the bath and with watching by night and fasting by day; wherefore he sleepeth.’ So we waited till next day; but still he did not come forth. Then we stood at the closet door and cried aloud so haply he might awake and ask what was the matter. But nothing came of that; so at last we lifted up the door;1 and, going in, found him dead, with his flesh torn into strips and bits and his bones broken.2 When we saw him in this condition it was grievous to us, and we took up the cup and found within its cover a piece of paper whereon was inscribed, ‘Whoso doeth evil leaveth no regrets, and this be the reward of him who playeth traitor with the daughters of Kings and who debaucheth them; and we make known to all who fall upon this scroll that Sharrkan, when he came to our country, seduced our Queen Abrizah; nor did that suffice him but he must needs take her from us and bring her to you. Then he3 sent her away in company of a black slave who slew her, and we found her lying dead on the desert sward and thrown out to wild beasts. This be no kingly deed, and he who did this is requited with naught but what he merited. So do ye suspect none of having killed him, for no one slew him but the cunning witch, whose name is Zat al-Dawahi. And behold, I have taken the King’s wife, Sophia, and have carried her to her father, Afridun King of Constantinople. Moreover, there is no help for it but that we wage war upon you and kill you and take your country from you, and ye shall be cut off even to the last man, nor shall a living soul be spared by Death nor one who bloweth fire with his breath, save he who Cross and Belt4 worshippeth.’ When we read this paper, we knew that the ancient woman had beguiled us and carried out her plot against us: whereupon we cried aloud and buffeted our faces and wept sore when weeping availed us naught. And the troops fell out as to whom they should make Sultan; some would have thee, and others would have thy brother Sharrkan; and we ceased not to dispute about this for the space of a month, at the end of which certain of us drew together and agreed to repair to thy brother Sharrkan: so we set out and journeyed on till we fell in with thee. And such is the manner of the death of Sultan Omar bin al-Nu’uman!” Now when the Wazir Dandan had made an end of his story, Zau al-Makan and his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman wept; and the Chamberlain, who wept also, said to Zau al-Makan, “O King, weeping will avail thee naught; nor shall aught profit thee but that thou harden thy heart and strengthen thy stress and establish thy sovranty; for verily whoso leaveth the like of thee is not dead.” Thereupon Zau al-Makan gave over his weeping and caused his throne to be set up without the pavilion, and then commanded the army to pass in review order before him. And the Chamberlain sat by his side and all the armour-bearers5 behind him, whilst the Wazir Dandan and the rest of the Emirs and Grandees stood each in his individual stead. Then quoth King Zau al-Makan to the Minister Dandan, “Inform me concerning my sire’s treasures;” and he replied, “I hear and I obey;” and gave him to know of the late King’s hoards and monies, and what was in the treasury of amassed wealth and jewels, and acquainted him with other precious things. So Zau al-Makan opened his hand to the army, and gave a sumptuous robe of honour to the Wazir Dandan, saying, “Thou continues” in office. Whereupon Dandan kissed the ground before him and wished him long life. Then he bestowed dresses on the Emirs, after which he said to the Chamberlain, “Bring out before me the tribute of Damascus that is with thee.” So he was shown the chests of money and rarities and jewels, when he took them and parted them all amongst the troops — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Door hinges in the east are two projections for the top and bottom of the leaf playing in hollows of the lintel and threshold. It appears to be the primitive form, for we find it in the very heart of Africa. In the basaltic cities of the Hauran, where the doors are of thick stone, they move easily on these pins. I found them also in the official (not the temple)City of Palmyra, but all broken.
2 The effect of the poison and of the incantation which accompanied it.
3 King Omar who had raped her. My sympathies are all with the old woman who nightly punished the royal lecher.
4 Arab. “Zunnár,” the Gr.. Christians and Jews were compelled by the fanatical sumptuary laws of the Caliph Al-Mutawakkil (AD. 856) to wear a broad leather belt in public, hence it became a badge of the Faith. Probably it was confounded with the “Janeo” (Brahmanical thread) and the Parsi sacred girdle called Kashti. (Dabistan i, 297, etc.). Both Mandeville and La Brocquière speak of “Christians of the Girdle, because they are all girt above,” intending Jacobites or Nestorians.
5 “Siláh dár” (Arab. and Pers.)=a military officer of high rank; literally an “armour-bearer,” chosen for velour and trustworthiness. So Jonathan had a “young man” (brave) who bare his armour (I Sam. xiv. 1, 6 and 7); and Goliath had a man that bare the shield before him (ibid. xvii. 7, 41). Men will not readily forget the name of Sulayman Agha, called the Silahdar, in Egypt. (Lane M. E. chaps. iv.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Zau al- Makan ordered the Chamberlain to bring out before him what he had brought of the tribute of Damascus; and, when he was shown the chests of money and rarities and jewels, he took them and parted them all amongst the troops, till nothing was left. And the Emirs kissed the ground before him and wished him long life, saying, “Never saw we a King, who gave the like of these gifts.” Then all went away to their tents and when it was morning he gave orders for marching. So they marched for three days, till, on the fourth day, they drew near to Baghdad. When they entered the city, they found it decorated, and Zau al-Makan, the Sultan, went up to his father’s palace and sat down on the throne, whilst the Emirs of the army and the Wazir Dandan and the Chamberlain of Damascus stood between his hands. Then he bade his private secretary write a writ to his brother Sharrkan, acquainting him with all that had passed, from first to last, and he concluded, “As soon as thou hast read this letter, make ready thine affair and join us with thine army, that we may turn to Holy War upon the Infidels and take man bote for our father and wipe out the stain upon our honour.” Then he folded the letter and sealed it with his seal ring and said to the Minister Dandan, “None shall carry this letter but thou; and it behoveth thee speak my brother fair and say to him, ‘If thou have a mind to thy father’s kingdom, it is thine, and thy brother shall be Viceroy for thee in Damascus; for to this effect am I instructed by him.’” So the Wazir went down from before him and made ready for his march. Then Zau al-Makan bade set apart a magnificent house for the Fireman and furnished it with the best of furniture and long is the tale of that Fireman.1 Presently Zau al-Makan went out chasing and hunting and, as he was returning to Baghdad, one of the Emirs presented him with blood horses and with beauteous handmaids whose description the tongue evades. One of the damsels pleased him: so he went in unto her and knew her that night, and she conceived by him forthright. After a while, the Wazir Dandan returned from his journey, bringing him news of his brother Sharrkan and that he was then on his way to him, and said, “It were fitting thou go forth to meet him.” Zau al — Makan replied, “I hear and I consent;” and riding forth with his Grandees a day’s journey from Baghdad, he pitched his pavilions there awaiting his brother. Next morning appeared King Sharrkan amid the army of Syria, a horseman of might, a lion fierce in fight, a prow and doughty knight. As the squadrons drew nigh and the dust clouds came hard by and the troops rode up with banners on high, Zau al-Makan and those with him pushed forward to meet Sharrkan and his men; and when Zau al-Makan saw his brother, he desired to dismount, but Sharrkan conjured him not to do on this wise, and himself footed it, and walked a few paces towards him.2 As soon as he reached Zau al-Makan, the new Sultan threw himself upon him, and Sharrkan embraced him and wept with great weeping and the twain condoled with each other. Then they mounted and rode onward, they and their troops, till they reached Baghdad, where they alighted and went up to the royal palace and there they passed that night, and when next morning came, Zau al-Makan went forth and bade summon the troops from all parts, and proclaimed a Holy War and a Razzia.3 They then awaited the coming of the levies from each quarter of the kingdom, and every one who came they entreated with honour and promised him all manner of good; till in so doing a full month had sped, and the fighting men flocked to them in a continuous body. Then Sharrkan said to Zau al-Makan, “O my brother, tell me thy history.” So he told him all that had befallen him from first to last, including the benevolent dealing of the Fireman with him. Asked Sharrkan, ‘Hast thou requited his kindness?”; and he answered, “O my brother! I have not rewarded him as yet, but Inshallah! I will recompense him whenas I return from this raid”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sharrkan asked his brother Zau al-Makan, “Hast thou requited the Fireman for his kindness?”; and he answered, “O my brother, I have not rewarded him as yet, but Inshallah! I will recompense him whenas I return from this raid and find time so to do.” Therewith Sharrkan was certified that his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, had told him the whole truth; but he concealed what had passed between them and offered his salutation to her by her husband the Chamberlain. She sent him back her greeting, calling down blessings on him and enquiring after her daughter Kuzia–Fakan, to which he replied that the maiden was well and in the best of health and safety. Where upon she praised Almighty Allah and gave him thanks. Then Sharrkan went to his brother to take counsel with him for departure; and Zau al-Makan said, “O my brother, as soon as the army is complete and the Arabs have come in from all parts, we will march forth.” So he bade make ready the commissariat and prepare munitions of war and went in to his wife, who was now five months gone with child; and he put under her astrologers and mathematicians, to whom he appointed stipends and allowances. Then he set out three months after the arrival of the army of Syria, and as soon as the Arabs were come in and the troops were assembled from all directions; and, as he fared forth, he was followed by the warriors and the united host. Now the name of the General of the Daylam army was Rustam and that of the General of the army of the Turks1 Bahram. And Zau al-Makan marched in mid host and on his right was his brother Sharrkan, and on his left the Chamberlain his brother-in-law. So the squadrons broke up and pushed forward and the battalions and companies filed past in battle array, till the whole army was in motion. They ceased not to fare on for the space of a month, and each body dismounted at its own ground and there rested every week three days (for the host was great); and they advanced in this order till they came to the country of the Greeks. Then the people of the villages and hamlets and the poorer sort took fright at them and fled to Constantinople. But when King Afridun heard the tidings he arose and betook himself to Zat al-Dawahi, the same who had contrived the stratagem, and had travelled to Baghdad and had slain King Omar bin Al–Nu’uman; and who after carrying off her slaves and Queen Sophia, had returned with them all to her native land. Now when she had been restored to her son, the King of Greece, and felt herself safe, she said to King Hardub, “Cool thine eyes; for I have avenged by blood the shame of thy daughter Abrizah, and have killed Omar bin al-Nu’uman and have brought back Sophia. So now let us go to the King of Constantinople and carry to him his daughter and acquaint him with what hath happened, that all of us be on guard and prepare our forces; and I will fare with thee to King Afridun, Lord of Constantinople, for I opine that the Moslems will not await our attack.” Said Hardub, “Tarry thou till they draw near our country, that we may make us ready meantime and assemble our power.” Accordingly they took to levying their forces and preparing for war, and, when the news of the Moslems’ advance reached them, they were prepared for defence; and Zat al Dawahi had preceded them. Now when she and her son arrived at Constantinople, the King of Kings, Afridun, hearing of the approach of Hardub, King of the Greeks, came forth to meet him and asked how it was with him and the cause of his visit. So Hardub acquainted him with the cunning doings of his mother, Zat al-Dawahi, how she had slain the Moslem King and recovered from him Queen Sophia, and had said, “The Moslems have assembled their forces and are on their way to attack us, wherefore it behoveth that we two join hands in single band and meet them.” Now King Afridun rejoiced in the return of his daughter and the killing of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman; and he sent to all countries seeking succour and acquainting the folk with the cause of slaying the Moslem King. So the Nazarene troops flocked to him and three months were not past ere the army of the Greeks was complete, besides which there joined themselves to him Franks from all their lands, French, Germans2 and Ragusans, 3 with men of Zara,4 Venetians, Genoese, and all the hosts of the Yellow Faces5; and, when the gathering was at its full, earth was straitened on them by reason of their multitude. Then Afridun, the Great King, ordered a march; so they set out and ceased not to defile through the city for ten days. They fared on till they reached the Wady hight Al–Nu’uman, a broad sided vale hard by the Salt Sea, where they halted three days; and on the fourth they were about to set out again, when news came that the army of Al–Islam on them press, and the defenders of the faith of Mohammed, of Men the Best. So they halted in it other three days, and on the eighth they espied a dust cloud which towered till it walled the whole land; nor was an hour of the day past ere that dust began to drift and was torn to shreds in the lift, and pierced through its shades the starry radiance of lance and the white levee of blades. Presently there appeared beneath it the banners Islamitan and the ensigns Mahometan; the horsemen urged forward, like the letting loose of seas that surged, clad in mail, as they were mackerel-back clouds which the moon enveil; whereupon the two hosts clashed, like two torrents on each other dashed. Eyes fell upon eyes; and the first to seek combat singular was the Wazir Dandan, he and the army of Syria, numbering thirty thousand bridles, and with him were the General of the Turks, and the General of Daylam, Rustam and Bahram, amid twenty thousand horse, behind whom came the men from the shores of the Salt Sea, clad in iron mail, as they were full moons that past through a night o’ercast. Then the Nazarene host called out on Jesus and Mary, and the defiled6 Cross and they heaped themselves upon the Wazir Dandan and those with him of the Syrian host. Now all this was in pursuance of a stratagem devised by that ancient woman Zat al-Dawahi; for, before his departure, King Afridun had gone in to her and asked her, “How shall I do and what plan shall I pursue?; it is thou hast caused this great distress to us;” and she had answered, “O great King and mighty Cohen!7 I will teach thee a trick would baffle Iblis himself, though he summon to his assistance all his grisly hosts.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Turk in modern parlance means a Turkoman, a pomade: the settled people call themselves Osmanli or Othmanli. Turkoman=Turk-like.
2 Arab. “Nimsá;” southern Germans, Austrians; from the Slav. “Nemica” (any Germans), literally meaning “The dumb” (nemac), because they cannot speak Slav.
3 Arab. “Dubárá” from the Slav. “Dubrovnik,” from “Dub” (an oak) and “Dubrava” (an oak forest). Ragusa, once a rival of Venice, gave rise to the word “Argosy.” D’Herbelot calls it “Dobravenedik” or “Good Venice,” the Turkish name, because it paid tribute when Venice would not (?).
4 Arab. “Jawarnah,” or, “Júrnah” evidently Zara, a place of many names, Jadera (Hirtius de Bell. Alex. cap. 13), Jadra, Zadra (whence the modern term), Diadora, Diadosca and Jadrossa. This important Liburnian city sent forth many cruisers in crusading days; hence the Arabs came to know its name.
5 Arab. “Banu’l-Asfar;” which may mean “Pale faces,” in the sense of “yeller girls” (New Orleans) and that intended by North American Indians, or, possibly, the peoples with yellow (or rather tow-coloured) hair we now call Russians. The races of Hindostan term the English not “white men,” but “red men;” and the reason will at once be seen by comparing a Britisher with a high-caste Nágar Brahman whose face is of parchment colour as if he had drunk exsangue cuminum. The Yellow-faces of the text correspond with the Sansk. “Svetadvipa”— Whiteman’s Land.
6 Arab. “Al–Musakhkham.” No Moslem believes that Isa was crucified and a favourite fancy is that Judas, changed to the likeness of Jesus, thus paid for his treason. (Evangel. Barnabæ.) Hence the resurrection is called not “Kiyámah” but “Kumámah”=rubbish. This heresy about the Cross they share with the Docetes, “certain beasts in the shape of men” (says Ignatius), who held that a phantom was crucified. So far the Moslems are logical, for “Isa,” being angelically, miraculously and immaculately conceived, could not be; but they contradict themselves when they hold a vacant place near Mohammed’s tomb for the body of Isa after his second coming as a forerunner to Mohammed and Doomday. (Pilgrimage ii. 89.)
7 A diviner, priest, esp. Jewish, and not belonging to the tribe of Levi.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, all this was a stratagem of the ancient woman, for that the King before his departure had gone to her and asked, “How shall I do and what plan shall I pursue? it is thou hast caused this great distress to us!” And she had answered, “O great King and mighty Cohen, I will teach thee a trick would baffle the Devil himself though he summon to his assistance all his grisly hosts. It is that thou send fifty thousand men going down in ships, and sailing over the sea to the Mountain of Smoke; and there let them land and stir not till {he standards of Al–Islam come upon thee, when do thou up and at them. Then bid the troops from the seaward sally out upon the Moslems and take them in rear, whilst we confront them from the landward. So not one of them shall escape, and our sorrows shall tease and peace abide with us.” Now the counsel of this ancient woman commended itself to King Afridun, and he replied, “Right is the recking thou reckest, O Princess of wits and recourse of Kings and Cohens warring for their blood wit!” So when the army of Al–Islam came upon them in chat valley, before they knew of it the flames began to burn up the tents and the swords in men’s bodies to make rents. Then hurried up the army of Baghdad and Khorasan who numbered one hundred and twenty thousand horse, with Zau al-Makan in the front of war. When the host of the Infidels that lay by the sea saw them, they sallied out against them and followed in their tracks; and when Zau al-Makan espied this he cried out to his men, “Turn back to the Infidels, O People of the Chosen Apostle, and slay those who deny and hate the authority of the Compassionating, the Compassionate!” So they turned and fought with the Christians. Then Sharrkan marched up with another corps of the Moslem host, some hundred thousand men, whilst the Infidels numbered nigh upon a thousand and six hundred thousand men. When the Moslems were united, their hearts were strengthened and they cried out, saying, “Verily Allah hath pro mised us victory, and to the Infidels hath assigned defeat.” And they clashed together with sword and spear. Now Sharrkan tare through rank and row and raged among the masses of the foe, fighting so fierce a fight as to make children grey grow; nor did he cease tourneying among the infidel horde and working havoc among them with the keen edged sword, shouting “Allaho Akbar!” (Allah is Most Great) till he drove back the host to the coast. Then failed the force of the foe and Allah gave victory to the faith of Al–Islam, and folk fought folk, drunken without strong drink till they slew of the Infidels in this affair forty and five thousand, while of the Moslems but three thousand and five hundred fell. Moreover, the Lion of the Faith, King Sharrkan, and his brother, Zau al-Makan, slept not that night, but occupied themselves with congratulating their braves and with looking to the wounded and with assuring the army of victory and salvation and promise of reward in the world to come. Thus far concerning the Moslem; but as regards King Afridun, Lord of Constantinople and Sovran of Roum, and Zat Al–Dawahi, they assembled the Emirs of the host and said to them, “Verily, we had worked our will and solaced our hearts, but our over confidence in our numbers, and that only, defeated us.” Then quoth to them the ancient one, the Lady of Calamities, “In very sooth nought shall profit you, except ye draw you nigh unto the Messiah and put your trust in the True Belief, for, by the virtue of the Messiah, the whole strength of the Moslem host lieth in that Satan, King Sharrkan.” “Tomorrow,” said King Afridun, “I have resolved to draw up in battle array and to send out against them that redoubtable cavalier, Lúká bin Shamlút; for if King Sharrkan come forth as a champion to fight single handed, our man will slay him and will slay the other Moslem Knights, till not one is left. And I purpose this night to sacre you all with the Holy Incense.” When the Emirs heard these words they kissed the ground before him. Now the incense which he designated was the excrement of the Chief Patriarch, the denier, the defiler of the Truth, and they sought for it with such instance, and they so highly valued it that the high priests of the Greeks used to send it to all the countries of the Christians in silken wraps after mixing it with musk and ambergris. Hearing of it Kings would pay a thousand gold pieces for every dram and they sent for and sought it to fumigate brides withal; and the Chief Priests and the great Kings were wont to use a little of it as collyrium for the eyes and as a remedy in sickness and colic; and the Patriarchs used to mix their own skite1 with it, for that the skite of the Chief Patriarch could not suffice for ten countries.2 So, as soon as dawn was seen and the morning shone with its shine and sheen, the horsemen ran to their spears full keen, and King Afridun — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Again the coarsest word “Khara.” The allusion is to the vulgar saying, “Thou eatest skite!” (i.e. thou talkest nonsense). Decent English writers modify this to, “Thou eatest dirt:” and Lord Beaconsfield made it ridiculous by turning it into “eating sand.”
2 These silly scandals, which cause us only to smile, excite Easterns to fury. I have seen a Moslem wild with rage on hearing a Christian parody the opening words of the Koran, “Bismillahi ‘l-Rahmáni ‘l-Rahím, Mismish wa Kamar al-din,” roughly translated, “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate! Apricots and marmalede.” The idea of the Holy Merde might have been suggested by the Hindus: see Mandeville, of the archiprotopapaton (prelate) carrying ox-dung and urine to the King, who therewith anoints his brow and breast, &c. And, incredible to relate, this is still practiced after a fashion by the Parsis, one of the most progressive and the sharpest witted of Asiatic races.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, as soon as dawn was seen and the morning shone with its shine and sheen, the horsemen ran to their spears full keen and King Afridun summoned his chief Knights and Nobles and invested them with dresses of honour; and, drawing the sign of the cross on their brows, incensed them with the incense which as aforesaid was the skite of the Chief Patriarch, the Cohen, the Heresiarch. This incensing done, he called for Luka bin Shamlut, surnamed the Sword of the Messiah; and, after fumigating him and rubbing his palate with the Holy Merde, caused him to snuff it and smeared his cheeks and anointed his moustaches with the rest. Now there was no stouter champion in the land of Roum than this accursed Luka, nor any better at bending of bow or sway of sword or lunge with lance on the day of devoir; but he was foul of favour, for his face was as the face of an ass, his shape that of an ape and his look as the look of a malignant snake: his presence was grievouser than parting from the beloved make; and blacker than night was his blackness and more fetid than the lion was his breath for foulness; more crooked than a bow was his crookedness and grimmer than the leopard was his ugliness, and he was branded with the mark of the Infidels on face.1 After this he came up to King Afridun and kissed his feet and stood before him; and the King said to him, “I desire thou go out against Sharrkan, King of Damascus, son of Omar bin al-Nu’uman, and deliver us from this affliction.” Quoth Luka, “Hearkening and obedience;” and the King made the sign of the cross on his forehead and felt assured of help from Heaven being near hand. Then Luka went out from the presence and the accursed one mounted a sorrel horse; he was clad in a red robe and a hauberk of gold set with jewels, and he bore a trident spear, as he were Iblis the damned on the day of drewing out his hosts war to darraign. Then he rode forward, he and his horde of Infidels, even as though they were driving to the Fire, preceded by a herald, crying aloud in the Arabic tongue and saying, “Ho, sect of Mohammed (upon whom be salutation and salvation!), let none of you come out but your champion Sharrkan, the Sword of Al–Islam, Lord of Damascus in Shám2!” Nor had he made an end of speaking, when arose a tumult in the plain; all the people heard the strain and the whole moving bodies of the armies twain called to mind the Day of Complain. Then the cowards trembled and all necks turned towards the sound, and lo! it was King Sharrkan, son of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman. For when his brother, Zau al-Makan, saw that accursed one push out on the plain, and heard the pursuivant, he turned to Sharrkan and said to him, “Of a surety they seek for thee.” Said he, “Should it so be, ’twere most pleasing to me.” So when they made sure of the matter and heard the herald crying in the plain, “Let none of you come out against me save Sharrkan,” they knew this cursed Luka to be champion of the land of Roum who had sworn to sweep the earth clean of Moslems. Now he was one of the greatest of villains, a wretch who caused hearts to pain; and the DayIamites, Turks and Kurds dreaded his might and main. Presently Sharrkan crave at him like a lion angry grim, mounted on a courser like a wild gazelle flying snell and slim; and coming nigh to him made the spear he hent to shake as it were a darting snake, and recited these couplets,
“I have a sorrel steed, whose pride is fain to bear the rein,
Shall give thee what thou likest not and make thee feel his main:
I have a handy limber spear full bright and keen of point,
Upon whose shaft the dam of Death her throny seat hath ta’en:
I have a trenchant glaive of Hind; and, when I bare its face
Of scabbard veil, from out its brow the rays of levee rain.”
Luka understood not the sense of his speech nor did he apprehend the vehemence of the verse; but he smote his forehead with his hand, in honour of the Cross drawn thereon and kissed it; then he couched his throw spear and ran at Sharrkan. But first he tossed the javelin with one hand in air to such height that it was lost to the spectators’ sight; and, catching it with the other hand as do the jugglers, hurled it at Sharrkan. It flew from his grasp like a shooting star and folk clamoured and feared for Sharrkan; but, as the spear flew near him, he put out his hand and caught it in full flight to the amazement of all who saw the sight. Then he shook it with the hand that took it till it was well nigh broken, and hurled it so high into the welkin that it disappeared from view. As it descended, he caught it again with the other hand, in less than the twinkling of an eye, and cried out from his heart core, saying, “By the truth of Him who created the sevenfold skies, I will assuredly make this cursed wight a byword for mankind to despise!” Then threw he the throw spear at Luka, who thought to do as Sharrkan had done and put forth his hand to trend it in mid flight; but Sharrkan prevented him, and sped at him a second throw spear which smote him and the point fell on his forehead, in the very centre of the sign of the Cross, and Allah hurried his soul to the Fire and Dwelling place dire.3 But when the Infidels saw Luka bin Shamlut fall slain, they buffeted their faces and they cried, “Alas!” and “Woe worth the day!” and called for aid upon the Abbots of the monasteries — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Meaning that he had marked his brow with a cross (of ashes?) as certain do on Ash Wednesday.
2 Syria, the “left-hand land” as has before been explained. The popular saying about its people is “Shámi shúmi!”— the Syrian is small potatoes (to render the sense Americanicè). Nor did Syrus, the slave in Roman days, bear the best of names. In Al–Hijaz the Syrian is addressed “Abú Shám” (Father of Syria) and insulted as “Abuser of the Salt” (a traitor). Yet many sayings of Mohammed are recorded in honour of Syria, and he sometimes used Syriac words. Such were “Bakh, bakh” (=euge, before noticed), and “Kakh,” a congener of the Latin Cacus and Caca which our day has docked to “cack.” (Pilgrimage iii. 115)
3 Koran xiv. 34. “They (Unbelievers) shall be thrown therein (i.e., the House of Perdition=Hell); and an unhappy dwelling shall it be.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Infidels saw Luka bin Shamlut fall slain, they buffeted their faces and cried, “Alas!” and “Woe worth the day!” and called upon the Abbots of the monasteries and cried, “Where be the crosses?” So the Religious offered up prayers and the Christians all drew together against Sharrkan; and, brandishing their scymitars and lances, rushed forward to the attack. Then army met army and breasts fell under hoof, whilst spear and sword ruled the day and forearms and wrists grew weak and the coursers seemed created without legs;1 nor did the herald of-war cease calling to fight, till arms were aweary and day took flight and night came on with darkness dight. So the two hosts drew apart, whilst every brave staggered like a drunken knave, for that with so much cut and thrust they strave; and the place was choked with the slain; fell were the wounds and the hurt knew not by whom they fell. Then Sharrkan joined his brother, Zau al-Makan, and the Chamberlain and the Wazir Dandan, and said to them, “Verily Allah hath opened a door for the Infidels to fall, praised be the Lord of the Worlds one and all!” Replied Zau al-Makan, “Let us never cease to praise Allah, for that He hath dispelled trouble from the Arab and the Ajam. Indeed the folk, generation after generation, shall tell of thy derring do against the accursed Luka, the falsifier of the Evangel;2 of thy catching the throng spear in mid-flight, and how the enemy of Allah among men thou didst smite; and thy fame shall endure until the end of time.” Then said Sharrkan, “Harkye, O grand Chamberlain and doughty Capitayne!” and he answered, “Adsum!”3 Quoth Sharrkan, “Take with thee the Wazir Dandan and twenty thousand horse, and lead them seven parasangs towards the sea, and force the march till ye shall have come near the shore, and there remain only two parasangs between thee and the foe. Then ambush ye in the hollows of the ground till ye hear the tumult of the Infidels disembarking from their ships; and the war cry from every side strike your ear and ye know that the sabres have begun labour between us and them; and, whenso ye see our troops falling back, as if defeated, and all the Infidels following them, as well those in front as those from the seaward and the tents, do ye still lie in wait for them: but as soon as ye see the standard with the words, There is no god but the God, and Mohammed is God’s Apostle (on whom be salutation and salvation!), then up with the green banner, and do your endeavour and fall on their rear and shout, ‘Alla ho Akbar! Allah is most Great!’ and circle round that they may not interpose between the retreating army and the sea.” He replied, “To hear is to obey!”; and forthright they agreed upon this matter and they went forth. Now the Chamberlain took with himself the Wazir Dandan and twenty thousand men even as Sharrkan had commanded. As soon as dawned the morn, the troops sprung to horse when they had donned their armour gear and drawn the scymitar and slung the spear. Then the Christians dispread themselves over hill and dale and the Ecclesiasts4 cried out and all heads were bared, and those in the ships hoisted the Cross at their mast heads and began making for shore from every side, and landed their horses and get them ready for fight and fray, whilst the sword blades glittered bright and the javelins glanced like levee light on mail shirt white; and all joined fight and the grind mill of Death whirled round and ground those who fought from horse and aground: heads from bodies flew end tongues mute grew and eyes no vision knew. Scymitars strave with utmost strain and heads flew over the battle plain; gall bladders crave and wrists were shorn in twain; steeds plashed in pools of gore and beards were gripped right sore; the host of Al–Islam called out, saying, “On the Prince of Mankind be blessings and peace, and to the Compassionate glory and praise, which ne’er shall cease, for His boons which aye increase;” and the host of the Infidels shouted, “Glory to the Cross and the Belt and the vine press juice, and the wine presser and the Priests and the Monks and the Festival of Palms and the Metropolitan!” Now Zau al-Makan and Sharrkan held back and their troops gave way and feigned flight from before the enemy, while the Infidel array pressed hard upon them deeming them in rout, and made ready to foin and hew. Then the meiny of the Moslems raised their voices, reciting the first verses of the Chapter of the Cow,5 whilst the dead were trampled under hoofs of steeds, and the heralds of the Greeks cried out, “Ho, servants of the Messiah! Ho, people of the True Faith! Ho, followers of the Primate!6 Verily Divine grace upon you opes; for see, the hosts of Al Islam like birds with broken wings incline to elope! So turn ye not to them your backs, but let your swords cleave deep in their necks and hold not your hands from them, else are ye outcasts from the Messiah, Mary’s son, who spoke even when a cradled one!”7 Now Afridun, King of Constantinople, deemed that the Infidels were victorious, knowing not that this was but a clever stratagem of the Moslems, and sent to King Hardub of Roum congratulations on success, adding, “Availed us naught but the Holy Merde of the Arch Patriarch, whose fragrance exhaled from the beards and mustachios of the slaves of the Cross near and far; and I swear, by the Miracles of the Messiah; and by thy daughter Abrizah, the Nazarene, the Mariolater; and by the Waters of Baptism, that I will not leave upon the earth a single defender of Al — Islam! And to the bitter end will I carry out this plan.” So the messenger betook himself with the address to King Hardub, whilst the Infidels called to one another saying, “Take we vengeance wreak for Luka!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The leg-cut is a prime favourite with the Eastern Sworder, and a heavy two-handed blade easily severs a horse’s leg.
2 Mohammed repeatedly declared (Koran lxi.) that the Christians had falsified the passage (“I go to my Father and the Paraclete shall come,” John xvi. 7) promising the advent of the Comforter, (ibid. xiv. 20; xv. 26) by substituting the latter word for glorious, renowned, i.e., Ahmed or Mohammed=the praised one. This may have been found in the Arabic translation of the Gospels made by Warakah, cousin to Mohammed’s first wife; and hence in Koran lxi. we find Jesus prophesying of an Apostle “whose name shall be Ahmad.” The word has consequently been inserted into the Arabic Gospel of Saint Barnabas (Dabistan iii. 67). Moslems accept the Pentateuch, the Psalter and the Gospel; but assert (Koran, passim.) that all extant copies have been hopelessly corrupted, and they are right. Moses, to whom the Pentateuch is attributed, notices his own death and burial —“the mair the miracle,” said the old Scotch lady. The “Psalms of David” range over a period of some five hundred years, and there are three Isaiahs who pass with the vulgar for one. The many apocryphal Gospels, all of which have been held genuine and canonical at different times and in different places, prove that the four, which are still in use, were retained because they lack the manifest absurdities of their discarded rivals.
3 Arab. “ Labbayka; “ the Pilgrimage-cry (Night xxii.) which in Arabic is,
Labbayk’ Allahumma, Labbayk’!
Lá Sharíka lake, Labbayk’!
Inna ‘l-hamda w’al ni’amata lake wa’l mulk!
Labbayk’ Allahumma, Labbayk’!
Some add “Here am I, and I honour Thee, the son of Thy two slaves; beneficence and good are all between Thy hands.“With the “Talbiyah” the pilgrims should bless the Prophet, pray Allah to grant Heaven and exclaim, “By Thy mercy spare us from the pains of Hell-fire!” (Pilgrimage iii. 232.) Labbayka occurs in the verses attributed to Caliph Ali; so labba=he faced, and yalubbu=it faces (as one house faces another); lastly, he professed submission to Allah; in which sense, together with the verbal noun “Talbiyah,” it is used by Al-Hanri (Pref. and Ass. of Su’adah).
4 Arab. “Kissís” (plur. Kusús) from ‘.
5 Koran ii. The “red cow” is evidently the “red heifer” of Barnabas, chaps. vii.
6 Arab. “Al-Jásalík”=.
7 This is from the first “Gospel of Infancy,” wherein Jesus said to his mother, “Verily I am Jesus, the Son of God, the Word which thou hast brought forth, as the Angel Gabriel did declare unto thee; and my Father hath sent me to save the world” (chaps. i. 2.). The passage is virtually quoted in the Koran (chaps. iii. 141), of course omitting “ the Son of God”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Infidels called to one another, saying, “Take we vengeance wreak for Luka!” while Hardub King of Greece cried aloud, “Ho, to our revenge for Abrizah!” Thereupon King Zau al-Makan shouted “Ho, servants of the Requiting King!: smite the children of denial and disobedience with the blanch of sword and the brown of spear!” So the Moslems returned to the Infidels and plied them with the keen edged scymitar, whilst their herald cried aloud, “Up, and at the foes of the Faith, all ye who love the Prophet Elect, with hope of salvation on the Day of Fear, to win favour of the Bountiful, the Forgiving One; for verily the Garden of Paradise is under the shadow of swords!” And behold, Sharrkan and his men charged down upon the Infidels and cut off their retreat and wheeled and tourneyed among the ranks; when lo! a knight of goodly presence opened a passage through the army of Unbelievers and circled hither and thither amongst the Deniers, cutting and thrusting and covering the ground with heads and trunks, so that the Faithless feared him and their necks bent under his lunge and hew. He was girt with two swords, his glances and his brand, and he was armed with two lances, one of bamboo cane and the other his straight wand like shape; and his flowing hair stood him in stead of many warriors, even as saith the poet,
“Laud not long hair,1 except it be dispread
In two fold locks, on day of fight and fray,
O’er youth who bears his lance ‘twixt flank and thigh,
From many a whis kered knight to win the day.”
And as singeth another,
“I say to him, what while he slings his sword,
‘For sword shall serve those looks that sword like show!’
Says he, ‘My sabre looks for those I love,
My sword for those who sweets of love unknow!’”
When Sharrkan saw him, he said to him, “I conjure thee by the Koran and the attributes of the Compassionate One, O Champion of the Champions! tell me who thou art: for verily by thy deeds this day thou hast pleased the Requiting King, whom one thing distracteth not from other thing; in that thou hast been discomforting the children of impiety and in rebellion revelling.” Then cried the Cavalier to him saying, “Thou art he who madest brother covenant with me but yesterday: how quickly thou hast forgotten me!” Thereupon he withdrew his mouth veil,2 so that what was hidden of his beauty was disclosed, and lo! it was none other than Zau al-Makan. Then Sharrkan rejoiced in his brother, save that he feared for him the rush of fighting and the crush of braves a smiting; and this for two reasons, the first, his tender age and exposure to the evil eye, and the second, that his safety was to the kingdom the greater of the two overshadowing wings. So he said to him, “O King! thou riskest thy life, so join thy steed to mine; in very sooth I fear for thee from the foe; and better thou stint hazarding thyself forth of these squadrons, that we may shoot at the enemy thine unerring shaft.” Quoth Zau al-Makan, “I desire to even thee in fray and I will not be niggard of myself before thee in the melay.” Then the host of Al–Islam, heaping itself upon the Infidels, girt them on all sides, warred on them a right Holy War, and brake the power of the children of impiety and pride and stowre. But King Afridun sighed when he saw the evil wreak that had fallen on the Greek, and they turned their backs from fight and addressed themselves to flight, making for the ships, when lo! there came out upon them from the seacoast another host, led by the Minister Dandan, the champion who was wont to make champions bite the dust, and to lay load on them with cut and thrust. Nor less came forth the Emir Bahram, Lord of the Provinces of Sham, amid twenty thousand horse doughty of arm; and the host of Al–Islam pressed them in front and on flank and wrought them grievous harm. Then a body of the Moslems turned against those who in the ships remained, and perdition on them rained, till they threw themselves into the main, and they slew of them many slain, more than a hundred thousand noblemen, nor was one of their champions, great or small, saved from bale and bane. Moreover, they took their ships, with all the money and treasure and cargo, save a score of keel, and the Moslems got that loot whose like was never gotten in by gone years; nor was such cut and thrust ever heard of by men’s ears.3 Now amongst the booty were fifty thousand horses, besides treasure and spoil past reckoning and arithmetic, whereat the Moslems rejoiced with an exceeding joy for that Allah had given them victory and protection. Such was the case with them; but as regards the fugitive Infidels they soon reached Constantinople, whither the tidings preceded them that King Afridun had prevailed over the Moslems; so quoth the ancient dame, Zat al-Dawahi, “I know that my son Hardub, King of Roum, is no runagate and that he feareth not the Islamitic hosts, but will restore the whole world to the Nazarene faith.” Then she bade the Great King, Afridun, give command that the city be decorated, and the people held festival high and drank their wines drunkenly and knew not the decrees of Destiny. Now whilst they were in the midst of their rejoicings, behold, the raven of dule and downfall croaked over them, and up came the twenty fugitive ships wherein was the King of Cæsarea. So King Afridun, Lord of Constantinople, met them on the sea shore, and they told him all that had befallen them from the Moslem, and they wept sore and groaned and moaned; and rejoicing at weal was turned into dismay for unheal; and they informed him concerning Luka son of Shamlut, how calamity had betided him and how Death had shot him with his shaft. Thereat the horrors of Doomday rose upon King Afridun,4 and he knew that there was no making straight their crook. Then came up from them the sound of weeping and wailing; the city was full of men mourning and the keepers were keening, and sighs and cries were heard from all sides. And when King Hardub of Greece met King Afridun he told him the truth of the case and how the flight of the Moslems was by way of stratagem and deceit, and said to him, “Look not to see any of the army, save those who have already reached thee.” When King Afridun heard these words he fell down in a fainting fit, with his nose under his feet; and, as soon as he revived, he exclaimed, “Surely the Messiah was wroth with them that he caused the Moslems to prevail over them!” Then came the Arch Patriarch sadly to the King who said to him, “O our father, annihilation hath overtaken our army and the Messiah hath punished us!” Replied the Patriarch, “Grieve not nor feel concerned, for it cannot be but that one of you have sinned against the Messiah, and all have been punished for his offence; but now we will read prayers for you in the churches, that the Mohammeden hosts may be repelled from you.” After which the old woman, Zat al-Dawahi, came to Afridun and said to him, “O King, verily the Moslem hosts are many, and we shall never overcome them save by wile: wherefore I purpose to work upon them by guile and repair to this army of Al–Islam, haply I may win my wish of their leader and slay their champion, even as I slew his father. If my stratagem succeed in his case, not one of the host he leads shall return to his native land, for all are strong only because of him; but I desire to have some Christian dwellers of Syria, such as go out every month and year to sell their goods, that they may help me (for this they can do) in carrying out my plan.” Replied the King, “Be it so whenever thou wilt.” So she bade fetch an hundred men, natives of Najrán,5 in Sham, and the King asked them, “Have ye not heard what hath befallen the Christians with the Moslems?” “Yes,” answered they; and he rejoined, “Know ye that this woman hath devoted her life to the Messiah and purposeth to go forth with you, disguised as Monotheists and Mohammedans, to work out a device which shall profit us and hinder the Moslem from us: say, then, are ye also willing to devote yourselves to the Anointed and I will give you a quintal of gold?6 He of you who escapeth shall have the money, and him of you who dieth will the Messiah reward.” “O King,” replied they, “we will devote our lives to the Messiah, and we will be thy sacrifice.” Thereupon the old woman took all she required of aromatic roots and placed them in water which she boiled over the fire till the black essence of them was extracted. She waited till the decoction was cold, then dipped the corner of a long kerchief therein and stained her face therewith. Moreover, she donned over her clothes a long gaberdine with an embroidered border and took in her hand a rosary, and afterwards went in to King Afridun, who knew her not, nor did any of his companions know her, till she discovered herself to them: and there was none in the assembly but who thanked and praised her for her cunning; and her son rejoiced and said, “May the Messiah never fail thee!” Thereupon she took with her the Syrian Christians, and set out for the army of Baghdad. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Mohammed allowed his locks to grow down to his ear-lobes but never lower.
2 Arab. “Lisám” I have explained as a covering for the lower face, made by drawing over it the corner of the head-kerchief (Pilgrimage i. 346). The Lisám of the African Tawárik hoods the eyes so that a man must turn up his face to see, and swathes all the lower half, leaving only the nose exposed. And this is worn by many men by night as well as by day, doubtless to avoid the evil eye. The native Sultans of Darfur, like those of Bornu and others further west, used white muslin as a face-wrap: hence, too, the ceremonies when spitting, etc., etc. The Kúfiyah or head-kerchief of the Arabs soon reached Europe and became in Low Latin Cuphia; in Spanish Escofia; in Ital. Cuffia or Scuffia; in French Escoffion, Scofion (Reine Marguerite) Coëffe (une pellicule, marque de bonheur) Coiffe and Coife, &c.; the Scotch Curch or Coif, opposed to the maiden snood, and, lastly our Sergeant-at-Law’s Coif. Littré, the Learned, who in erudition was né coiffé, has missed this obvious derivation.
3 “Cutting,” throughout the book, alludes to the scymitar with which Arabs never give point; and “thrusting” to the footman’s spear and the horseman’s lance.
4 A popular phrase, I repeat, for extreme tenor and consternation.
5 The name usually applies to a well-known district and city of Al Yaman, where “Koss the eloquent” was bishop in Mohammed’s day: the Negiran of D’Herbelot. Here, however, it is the Syrian Najrán (Nejrân of Missionary Porter’s miserable Handbook), now a wretched village near the volcanic Lajjá, about one hundred and twenty miles direct south of Damascus and held by Druzes and Christians.
6 The Kantár (quintal) of 100 ratls (Ibs.) =98–99 Ibs. avoir.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Afridun heard these words, he fell into a fainting fit with his nose under his feet; and, as soon as he revived, fear fluttered the scrotum1 below his belly and he complained to the ancient dame, Zat al-Dawahi. Now this accursed old woman was a witch of the witches, past mistress in sorcery and deception; wanton and wily, deboshed and deceptious; with foul breath, red eyelids, yellow cheeks, dull brown face, eyes bleared, mangy body, hair grizzled, back humped, skin withered and wan and nostrils which ever ran. But she had studied the scriptures of Al–Islam and had made the Pilgrimage to the Holy House of Meccah and all this that she might come to the knowledge of the Mohammedan ordinances and the miraculous versets of the Koran; and she had professed Judaism in the Holy City of Jerusalem2 for two years’ space, that she might master the magic of men and demons; so that she was a plague of plagues and a pest of pests, wrong headed as to belief and to no religion fief. Now the chief reason of her sojourn with her son, King Hardub of Greece, was on account of the slave virgins at his court: for she was given to tribadism3 and could not exist without sapphism or she went mad: so if any damsel pleased her, she was wont to teach her the art of rubbing clitoris against clitoris and would anoint her with saffron4 till she fainted away for excess of volupty. Whoso obeyed her she was wont to favour and make her son incline towards her; but whoso repelled her she would contrive to destroy; and so she abode for a length of time. This was known to Marjanah and Rayhánah and Utrijah, the handmaids of Abrizah, and their Princess loathed the old woman and abhorred to lie with her, because of the rank smell from her armpits, the stench of her fizzles more fetid than carrion, and the roughness of her hide coarser than palm fibre. She was wont to bribe those who rubbed parts with her by means of jewels and instructions; but Abrizah held aloof from her and sought refuge with the Omnipotent, the Omniscient; for, by Allah, right well quoth the poet,
“Ho thou who grovellest low before the great
Nor over fording lesser men dost blench
Who gildest dross by dirham gathering,
No otter scent disguises carrion stench!
And now to return to the story of her stratagem and the woes of her working. Presently she departed, taking the chief Nazarenes with their hosts, and turned towards the army of the Moslems. Whereupon King Hardub went in to King Afridun and said to him, “O King, we have no need of the Chief Patriarch nor of his prayers, but will consult my mother’s counsel and observe what she will do with her craft unending against the Moslem hosts; for these are marching with all their power, they will soon be upon us and they will encircle us on all sides.” When King Afridun heard this, terror took hold upon his heart and he wrote letters, without stay or delay, to all the nations of the Nazarenes, saying, “It behoveth none of the Messiahites or Cross knights to hold back, especially the folk of the strongholds and forts: but let them all come to us, foot and horse, women and children, for the Moslem hosts already tread our soil. So haste! haste ye! ere what we fear to us here appear.” Thus much concerning them; but regarding the work of the old woman, Zat al-Dawahi; when she went forth from the city with her suite, she clad them in the clothing of Moslem merchants, having provided herself with an hundred mules carrying stuffs of Antioch, such as goldwoven satins and royal brocades and so forth. And she had taken a letter from King Afridun to the following effect: “These be merchantmen from the land of Sham who have been with us: so it besitteth none to do them harm or hindrance, nor take tax and tithe of them, till they reach their homes and safe places, for by merchants a country flourisheth, and these are no men of war nor of ill faith.” Then quoth the accursed Zat al-Dawahi to those with her, “Verily I wish to work out a plot for the destruction of the Moslem.” Replied they, “O Queen, command us whatso thou wilt; we are at thy disposal and may the Messiah never disappoint thy dealings!” Then she donned a gown of fine white wool and rubbed her forehead, till she made a great mark as of a scar and anointed it with an ointment of her own fashion, so that it shone with prodigious sheen. Now the old hag was lean bodied and hollow eyed, and she bound her legs tightly round with cords5 just above her feet, till she drew near the Moslem camp, when she unwound them, leaving their marks deeply embedded in her ankles. Then she anointed the wheels with dragon’s blood and bade her companions beat her with a severe beating, and set her in a chest and, quoth she, “Cry abroad the Refrain of Unity,6 nor fear from it aught of damage!” Replied they, “How can we beat thee, who be our sovereign lady, Zat al-Dawahi, mother of the King we glory in?” Then said she, “We blame not nor deal reproach to him who goeth to the jakes, and in need evil becometh good deed. When ye have set me in the chest, take it and make it one of the bales and place it on mule back and fare forth with it and the other goods through the Moslem camp, and fear ye no blame. And if any of the Moslems hinder you, give up the mules and their lading and be take yourselves to their King, Zau al-Makan, and implore his protection saying, ‘We were in the land of the Infidels and they took nothing from us, but wrote us a passport, that none shall do us hindrance or work our mischance.’ If he ask you, ‘What profit had ye of your property in the land of Roum?’ answer him, ‘We profited in the deliverance of a pious man, who had been bound down in an underground cell nigh fifteen years, crying out for help yet none helped him. Nay, the Infidels tortured him night and day. We knew not this; but, after we had tarried in Constantinople for some time, having sold our goods and bought others in their stead, we determined on and made ready for a return to our native land. We spent that night conversing about our journey and when day broke, we saw figured upon the wall a human form and as we drew nigh it, behold, it moved and said, ‘O Moslems, is there amongst you one who is minded to woo the favour of the Lord of the three Worlds?’7 ‘How so?’ asked we; and the figure answered, ‘Know that Allah hath made me speak to you, to the intent that your faith be fortified, and that your belief embolden you and that you may go forth of the country of the Infidels and repair to the Moslem host; for with them wones the Sword of the Com passionate One, of our Age the Champion, King Sharrkan, by whom He shall conquer Constantinople town and destroy the sect of the Nazarene. And when ye shall have journeyed three days, you will find an hermitage known as the Hermitage of the ascetic Matruhina8 and containing a cell; visit it with pure intent and contrive to arrive there by force of will, for therein is a Religious from the Holy City, Jerusalem, by name Abdullah, and he is one of the devoutest of mankind, endowed with the power of working saintly miracles9 such as dispel doubts and obscurity. Certain of the monks seized him by fraud and shut him up in a souterrain where he hath lain a long time. By his deliverance you will please the Lord of Faithful Men, for such release is better than fighting for the Faith.’” Now when the ancient dame and those with her had agreed upon such words, she said, “As soon as that which I impart shall reach the ears of King Sharrkan, say him further, ‘Hearing this from that image we knew that the holy man’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Juráb (bag) mi’adat — ih (of his belly),” the “curdling of the testicles” in fear is often mentioned.
2 Clearly alluding to the magic so deeply studied by mediæval Jews.
3 Arab. “Sahákah,” lit. rubbing. The Moslem Harem is a great school for this “Lesbian (which I would call Atossan) love “; but the motive of the practice lies deeper. As amongst men the mixture of the feminine with the masculine temperament leads to sodomy, so the reverse makes women prefer their own sex. These tribades are mostly known by peculiarities of form and features, hairy cheeks and upper lips, gruff voices, hircine odour and the large projecting clitoris with erectile powers known to the Arabs as “bazar” hence Tabzír=circumcision or amputation of such clitoris. Burckhardt (Prov. 436) translates “ Bazarah” by slut or wench. He adds “ it originally signifies the labia which the Cairenes also entice Zambúr and which are cut off in girlhood.” See also Lane, Lex. s.v.; Tabzír. Both writers confuse excision of the nymphæ with circumcision of the clitoris (Zambúr) Al–Siyúti (Kitab al-Izá’ fi’Ilm al-Nikah) has a very interesting chapter on Sapphic venery, which is well known to Europe as proved by such works as “Gamiani,” and “Anandria ou Confessions de Mademoiselle Sappho, avec la Clef,” Lesbos, 1718. Onanism is fatally prevalent: in many Harems and girls’ schools tallow candles and similar succedanea are vainly forbidden and bananas when detected are cut into four so as to be useless; of late years, however, China has sent some marvellous artificial phalli of stuffed bladder, horn and even caoutchouc, the latter material of course borrowed from Europe.
4 This is considered a powerful aphrodisiac in the East. Hence male devotees are advised to avoid tile “two reds,” i.e. meat and wine; while the “two reds,” which corrupt women, are gold and saffron, that is perfumery. Hence also the saying of Mohammed:— “Perfumes for men should have scent and not colour; for women should have colour and not scent.” (Mishkát al-Masábíh ii. 361.)
5 These are the “Hibás” or thin cords of wool which the Badawi binds round his legs, I believe to keep off cramp. (Pilgrimage iii. 78).
6 Crying out “La iláha illa ’llah.” (There is no god but the God.); technically called “Tahlíl.”
7 i.e. Men, angels and devils, the “Triloka” (triple people) of the Hindus. Alamín (plur.), never Alamayn (dual), is the Triregno denoted by the papal Tiara, the three Christian kingdoms being Heaven, Hell and Purgatory.
8 Matrahinna or Mit–Rahinah is a well-known village near Memphis, the name being derived from the old Egyptian Minat-ro-hinnu, the port at the mouth of the canal. Let me remark that two of these three words, “Minat” and “Ru,” are still common in ” Aryan” Persian.
9 Kirámat, a sign, a prodigy, opposed to Mu’ujizah, a miracle wrought by a prophet. The Sufis explain this thaumaturgy by Allah changing something of Nature’s ordinary course in favour of an especial worshipper, and, after a fashion, this is Catholic doctrine (See Dabistan, iii. 173).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman, Zat al-Dawahi, and those with her had agreed upon such words, she said, “Now as soon as that which I impart shall reach the ears of King Sharrkan say him further, ‘Hearing these words from that image we knew that the holy man was indeed of the chiefest devotees and Allah’s servants of purest qualities; so we made three days’ march till we came in sight of that hermitage, and then we went up to it and passed the day in buying and selling, as is the wont of merchants. As soon as day had departed our sight and night was come to darken light, we repaired to the cell wherein was the dungeon, and we heard the holy man, after chanting some verses of the Koran, repeat the following couplets,
‘My heart disheartened is, my breast is strait,
And sinks my soul in sea of bale and bate
Unless escape be near I soon shall die;
And Death were better than this doleful strait:
O Lightning an thou light my home and folk,
An their still brighter charms thy shine abate,
Say, what my path to meet them, being barred
By wars, and barricado’d succour’s gate?’
“When once ye have brought me into the Moslem camp, and I mix with them you shall see,” the old woman continued, “how I will make shift to beguile them and slay them all, even to the last man.” The Nazarenes hearing whet she said, kissed her hands and set her in the chest, after they had beaten her with a grievous beating in obedience to her commands, for they saw it was incumbent on them to do her bidding in this; then they all made for the Moslem host as hath erst been said. Such was the case with the damned hag, Zat al-Dawahi and her companions; but as regards the Mohammeden army, they indeed, after Allah had given them victory over their enemies and they had plundered everything in the ships of money and hoards, all sat down to converse with one another and Zau al-Makan said to his brother Sharrkan, “Verily, Allah hath granted us to prevail because of our just dealing and discipline and concord amongst ourselves; wherefore continue, O Sharrkan, to obey my commandment, in submission to Allah (be He exalted and extolled!), for I mean to slay ten Kings in blood revenge for my sire, to cut the throat of fifty thousand Greeks and to enter Constantinople.” Replied Sharrkan, “My life be thy ransom against death! Needs must I follow out the Holy War, though I wone many a year in their country. But I have, O my brother, in Damascus a daughter, named Kuzia Fakan, whom I love heartily for she is one of the marvels of the time and she will soon be of age.’ Said Zau al-Makan, “And I also have left my wife with child and near her time, nor do I know what Allah will vouchsafe me by her. But promise me, O my brother, that if Allah bless me with a son, thou wilt grant me thy daughter for wife to him, and make covenant with me and pledge me thy faith thereon.” “With love and good will, replied Sharrkan; and, stretching out his hand to his brother, he said, If she bring thee a son, I will give him my daughter Kuzia Fakan, to wife.” At this Zau al-Makan rejoiced, and they fell to congratulating each other on the victory over the enemy. And the Wazir Dandan also congratulated the two brothers and said to them, “Know, O ye Kings, that Allah hath given us the victory, for that we have devoted our lives to Him (be He exalted and ex tolled!); and we have left our homes and households; and it is my counsel that we follow up the foe and press upon him and harass him, so haply Allah shall enable us to win our wishes, and we shall destroy our enemies, branch and root. If it please you, do ye go down in these ships and sail over the sea, whilst we fare forward by land and bear the brunt of battle and the thrust of fight.” And the Minister Dandan ceased not to urge them to combat and repeated his words who said,
“To slay my foes is chiefest bliss I wist,
And on the courser’s back be borne a list;
Comes promising tryst a messenger from friend
Full oft, when comes the friend withouten tryst.”
And these words of another,
“War for my mother (an I live) I’ll take;
Spear for my brother; scymitar for sire
With every shag haired brave who meets his death
Smiling, till won from Doom his dear desire!”
And when the Wazir ended his verses, he said, “Praise be to Him who aided us dear victory to uphold and who hath given us spoil of silver and fine gold!” Then Zau al-Makan commanded the army to depart; and they fared on forcing their marches for Constantinople, till they came to a wide and spacious champaign, full of all things fair and fain, with wild cattle frisking and gazelles pacing to and fro across the plain. Now they had traversed great deserts and drink had been six days cut off from them, when they drew near this meadow and saw therein waters founting and ripe fruits daunting and that land as it were Paradise; for it had donned its adornments and decked itself.1 Gently waved the branches of its trees drunken with the new wine of the dew, and combined with the nectar of Tasnim the soft breathings of the morning breeze. Mind and gazer were confounded by its beauty, even as saith the poet,
“Behold this lovely garden! ’tis as though
Spring o’er its frame her greeny cloak had spread.
Looking with fleshly eyne, thou shalt but sight
A lake whose waters balance in their bed,
But look with spirit eyes and lo! shalt see
Glory in every leaf o’erwaves thy head.”
And as another saith,
“The stream’s a cheek by sunlight rosy dyed,
Whose down2 is creeping shade of tamarisk stems
Round legs of tree trunks waveless roll in rings
Silvern, and blossoms are the diadems.”
When Zau al-Makan saw this champaign, with its trees bowing and its flowers blooming and its birds warbling, he called to his brother Sharrkan and said, “O my brother, verily in Damascus is naught the like of this place. We will not march from it save after three days, that we may take rest ourselves and that the army of Al–Islam may regain strength and their souls be fortified to encounter the blamed Infidels.” So they halted therein and while camping behold, they heard a noise of voices from afar, and Zau al-Makan asked the cause thereof, and was answered that a caravan of merchants from the Land of Syria had halted there to rest and that the Moslem troops had come on them and had haply seized something of the goods which they had brought from the country of the Infidels. After a while up came the merchants, crying out and appealing to the King for aidance. When Zau al- Makan saw this, he bade them be brought before him and, when in presence they said to him, “O King, we have been in the country of the Infidels and they plundered us of nothing: why then do our brothers the Moslems despoil our goods, and we in their own land? Of a truth when we saw your troops, we went up to them and they robbed us of what we had with us and we have now reported to thee all that hath befallen us.” Thereupon they brought out to him the letter of the King of Constantinople, and Sharrkan read it and said, “We will presently restore to you what hath been taken from you; but yet it behoveth you not to carry merchandise to the country of the Infidels.” Replied they, “O our Lord, in very sooth Allah despatched us thither that we might win what Gházi3 never won the like of, not even thou in all thy razzias.” Asked Sharrkan, “What was it ye won?” “O King,” answered they, “we will not tell thee save in private; for if this matter be noised among the folk, haply it may come to the ears of some,4 and this will be the cause of our ruin and of the ruin of all Moslems who resort to the land of the Greeks.” Now they had hidden the chest wherein was the damned Zat al-Dawahi. So Zau al-Makan and his brother brought them to a private place, where they laid bare to both of them the story of the devotee, and wept till they made the two Kings weep. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Koran, x. 25, “until the earth receive its vesture and be adorned with various plants.”
2 i.e. the young hair sprouting on the boy’s cheek.
3 A fighter for the faith and now a title which follows the name, e.g. Osmán Páshá Ghází, whom the English press dubbed “Ghazi Osman.”
4 That is the King of Constantinople.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Nazarenes who wore merchants’ weed, when brought to a private place by Zau al-Makan and his brother Sharrkan, laid bare to both of them the story of the devotee and wept till they made the two Kings weep and repeated to them all which had been taught by the old witch Zat al-Dawahi. Thereupon Sharrkan’s heart yearned to the devotee and he was moved to ruth for him and was fired with zeal for the service of Almighty Allah. So quoth he to them, “Did ye rescue this holy man or is he still in the hermitage?” Quoth they, “We delivered him and slew the hermit, fearing for our lives; after which we made haste to fly for dread of death; but a trusty man told us that in this hermitage are quintals of gold and silver and stones of price.” Then they fetched the chest and brought out the accursed old woman, as she were a cassia pod1 for excess of blackness and leanness, and she was laden with the same fetters and shackles. When Zau al-Makan and the bystanders saw her, they took her for a man of the best of Allah’s devotees and surpassing in pious qualities, more especially because of the shining of her forehead for the ointment wherewith she had anointed her face. So Zau al-Makan and Sharrkan wept sore; then they rose up in honour and kissed her hands and feet, sobbing aloud: but she signed to them and said, “Cease this weeping and hear my words. Hereat they dried their tears in obedience to her bidding, and she said, “Know ye both that I was content to accept what my Lord did unto me, for I kenned that the affliction which befel me was a trial from Him (be He exalted and extolled!); and whoso hath not patience under calamity and tribulation, for him there is no coming to the delights of Paradise. I had indeed supplicated Him that I might return to my native land, not as a compensation for the sufferings decreed to me, but that I might die under the horse hoofs of warriors fighting for the Faith who, being slain in fray, live again without suffering death.”2 Then she repeated the following couplets,
“Our Fort is Tor,3 and flames the fire of fight:
Moses art thou and this is time for aid:
Cast down thy rod, ’twill swallow all they wrought,
Nor dread for men their ropes be vipers made.4
For Chapters read on fight day lines of foes,
And on their necks ‘grave versets5 wi’ thy blade!”
When the old woman had ended her verse, her eyes overflowed with tears and her forehead under the unguent shone like gleaming light, and Sharrkan rose and kissed her hand and caused food be brought before her: but she refused it, saying, “I have not broken my fast by day for fifteen years; and how should I break it at such a time when my Lord hath been bountiful to me in delivering me from the captivity of the Infidels and removing from me that which was more grievous to me than torment of fire? I will wait till sun down.” So when it was nightfall, Sharrkan and Zau al-Makan came and served her with food and said, “Eat, O ascetic!” But she said, “This is no time for eating; it is the time for worshipping the Requiting King.” Then she stood up in the prayer niche and remained praying till the night was spent; and she ceased not to do after this fashion for three days and nights, sitting not but at the time of the Salám or salutation6 ending with several prayers. When Zau al-Makan saw her on this wise, firm belief in her get hold of his heart and he said to Sharrkan, “Cause a tent of perfumed leather to be pitched for this Religious, and appoint a body servant to wait upon him.” On the fourth day she called for food; so they brought her all kinds of meats that could seduce the sense or delight the sight; but of all this she would eat only a scone with salt. Then she again turned to her fast and, as the night came, she rose anew to pray; when Sharrkan said to Zau al-Makan, “Verily, this man carrieth renunciation of the world to the extreme of renouncing, and, were it not for this Holy War, I would join myself to him and worship Allah in his service, till I came before His presence. And now I desire to enter his tent and talk with him for an hour.” Quoth Zau al-Makan, “And I also: tomorrow we sally forth to fight against Constantinople, and we shall find no time like the present.” Said the Wazir Dandan, “And I no less desire to see this ascetic; haply he will pray for me that I find death in this Holy War and come to the presence of my Lord, for I am aweary of the world.” So as soon as night had darkened, they repaired to the tent of that witch, Zat al-Dawahi; and, seeing her standing to pray, they drew near her and fell a weeping for pity of her; but she paid no heed to them till midnight was past, when she ended her orisons by pronouncing the salutation. Then she turned to them and after wishing them long life, asked them “Wherefore come ye?”, whereto they answered, “O thou holy man! diddest thou not hear us weep around thee?” She rejoined, “To him who standeth in the presence of Allah, remaineth no existence in time, either for hearing any or for seeing aught about him.” Quoth they, “We would have thee recount to us the cause of thy captivity and pray for us this night, for that will profit us more than the possession of Constantinople.” Now when she heard their words she said, “By Allah, were ye not the Emirs of the Moslems, I would not relate to you aught of this at any time; for I complain not but to Allah alone. However, to you I will relate the circumstances of my captivity. Know, then, that I was in the saintly City of Jerusalem with certain ecstatics and inspired men, and did not magnify myself among them, for that Allah (be He exalted and extolled!) had endowed me with humility and abnegation, till I chanced to go down to the sea one night and walked upon the water. Then entered into me pride; whence I know not, and I said to myself, ‘Who like me can walk the water?’ And my heart from that time hardened and Allah afflicted me with the love of travel. So I journeyed to Roum land and visited every part for a whole year, and left no place but therein I worshiped Allah. When I came to this spot,7 I clomb the mountain and saw there an hermitage, inhabited by a monk called Matrubina, who, when he sighted me, came out and kissed my hands and feet and said, ‘Verily, I have seen thee since thou enteredst the land of the Greeks, and thou hast filled me with longing for the land of Al–Islam.’ Then he took my hand and carried me into that hermitage, and brought me to a dark room; and, when I entered it unawares, he locked the door on me and left me there forty days, without meat or drink; for it was his intent to kill me by delay. It chanced one day, that a Knight called Dakianús8 came to the hermitage, accompanied by ten squires and his daughter Tamásil, a girl whose beauty was incom parable. When they entered that hermitage, the monk Matruhina told them of me, and the Knight said, ‘Bring him out, for surely there is not on him a bird’s meal of meat.’ So they opened the door of the dark room and found me standing in the niche, praying and reciting the Koran and glorifying Allah and humbling myself before the Almighty. When they saw me in this state Matrohina exclaimed, ‘This man is indeed a sorcerer of the sorcerers!’; and hearing his words, they all came in on me, Dakianus and his company withal, and they beat me with a grievous beating, till I desired death and reproached myself, saying, ‘This is his reward who exalteth himself and who prideth himself on that which Allah hath vouchsafed to him, beyond his own competence! And thou, O my soul, verily self esteem and arrogance have crept into thee. Dost thou not know that pride angereth the Lord and hardeneth the heart and bringeth men to the Fire?’ Then they laid me in fetters and returned me to my place which was the dungeon under ground. Every three days, they threw me down a scone of barley bread and a draught of water; and every month or two the Knight came to the hermitage. Now his daughter Tamasil had grown up, for she was nine years old when I first saw her, and fifteen years passed over me in captivity, so that she had reached her four and twentieth year. There is not in our land nor in the land of the Greeks a fairer than she, and her father feared lest the King take her from him; for she had vowed herself to the Messiah and rode with Dakianus in the habit of a cavalier, so that albeit none might compare with her in loveliness, no one who saw her knew her for a woman. And her father had laid up his monies in this hermitage, every one who had aught of price or treasured hoard being wont to deposit it therein; and I saw there all manner of gold and silver and jewels and precious vessels and rarities, none may keep count of them save Almighty Allah. Now ye are worthier of these riches than those Infidels; so lay hands on that which is in the hermitage and divide it among the Moslems and especially on fighters in the Holy War. When these merchants came to Constantinople and sold their merchandise, that image which is on the wall spoke to them, by grace of a marvel which Allah granted to me; so they made for that hermitage and slew Matruhina, after torturing him with most grievous torments, and dragging him by the beard, till he showed them the place where I was; when they took me and found no path but flight for dread of death. Now tomorrow night Tamasil will visit that hermitage as is her habit, and her father and his squires will come after her, as he feareth for her; so, if ye would witness these things, take me with you and I will deliver to you the monies and the riches of the Knight Dakianus which be in that mountain; for I saw them bring out vessels of gold and silver to drink therefrom, and I heard a damsel of their company sing to them in Arabic and well-away! that so sweet a voice should not be busied in chaunting the Koran. If, then, ye will; enter into that hermitage and hide there against the coming of Dakianus and his daughter; and take her, for she is fit only for the King of the Age, Sharrkan, or King Zau al-Makan.” Thereat they all rejoiced with the exception of the Wazir Dandan, who put scant faith in her story, for her words took no hold on his reason, and signs of doubt in her and disbelief showed in his face.9 Yet he was confounded at her discourse, but he feared to speak with her for awe of the King. Then quoth the ancient dame, Zat al-Dawahi, “Verily, I fear lest the Knight come and, seeing these troops encamped in the meadow, be afraid to enter the hermitage.” So Zau al-Makan ordered the army to march upon Constantinople and said, “I have resolved to take with me an hundred horse and many mules and make for that mountain, where we will load the beasts with the monies which be in the hermitage.” Then he sent at once for the Chief Chamberlain whom they brought into the presence; and he summoned likewise the leaders of the Turks and Daylamites and said, “As soon as it is dawn, do ye set forth for Constantinople; and thou, O Chamberlain, shalt take my place in council and contrivance, while thou, O Rustam, shalt be my brother’s deputy in battle. But let none know that we are not with you and after three days we will rejoin you.” Then he chose out an hundred of the doughtiest riders, and he and Sharrkan and the Minister Dandan set out for the hermitage, and the hundred horsemen led the mules with chests for transporting the treasure. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Cassia fistularis, a kind of carob: “ Shambar” is the Arab. form of the Persian “ Chambar.”
2 Koran, ii. 149. Hence the vulgar idea that Martyrs are still alive in the flesh. See my Pilgrimage (ii. 110 and elsewhere) for the romantic and picturesque consequences of that belief. The Commentators (Jalál al-Dín, etc.) play tricks with the Koranic words, “ they (martyrs) are not dead but living” (iii. 179) by placing the happy souls in the crops of green birds which eat of the fruits and drink of the waters of Paradise; whereas the reprobates and the (very) wicked are deposited in black birds which drain the sanies and the boiling waters of Hell. Amongst the Greeks a body remaining entire long after death suggests Anathema Maranatha: it is the contrary with Catholic Christians (Boccaccio iv. 5, of the Pot of Basil). Concerning this creed see Maundrell, Letter of 1698.
3 Tor is “Mount Sinai” in the Koran (xcv. 1). I have only to repeat my opinion concerning the present site so called: “It is evident that Jebel Serbal dates only from the early days of Coptic Christianity; that Jebel Musa, its Greek rival, rose after the visions of Helena in the fourth century; whilst the building of the Convent by Justinian belongs to A.D 527. Ras Safsáfah, its rival to the north, is an affair of yesterday, and may be called the invention of Robinson; and Jebel Katerina, to the south is the property of Rüppell” (Midian Revisited i., 237). I would therefore call the “Sinaitic” Peninsula, Peninsula of Paran in old days and Peninsula of Tor (from its chief port) in our time. It is still my conviction that the true Mount Sinai will be found in Jabal Aráif, or some such unimportant height to the north of the modern Hajj-road from Suez to Akabah. Even about the name (which the Koran writes “Sainá” and “Sínín”) there is a dispute: It is usually derived from the root “Sanah”=sentis, a bush; but this is not satisfactory. Our eminent Assyriologist, Professor Sayce, would connect it with “Sin,” the Assyrian Moon — god as Mount Nebo with the Sun-god and he expects to find there the ruins of a Lunar temple as a Solar fane stands on Ba’al Zapuna (Baal Zephon) or the classical Mount Casius.
4 Alluding to the miracle of Aaron’s rod (the gift of Jethro) as related in the Koran (chapts. vii. 1., xx., etc.), where the Egyptian sorcerers threw down thick ropes which by their magic twisted and coiled like serpents.
5 Arab. “Ayát” lit. “signs,” here “miracles of the truth,” 1. c. Koranic versets as opposed to chapters. The ranks of the enemy represent the latter, sword-cuts the former — a very persuasive mode of preaching.
6 Lane (M. E. chapt.. iii.) shows by a sketch the position of the worshipper during this “Salám” which is addressed, some say, to the guardian angels, others suppose to all brother-believers and angels.
7 i.e., where the Syrians found him.
8 i.e., Dedianus Arabised; a name knightly and plebian.
9 In such tales the Wazir is usually the sharp-witted man, contrasting with the “dummy,” or master.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sharrkan and his brother, Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan set off with an hundred horse for the hermitage described to them by that accursed Zat al-Dawahi, and they took with them mules and chests for transporting the treasure. Now as soon as dawned the morn, the Chamberlain signalled to the host an order for departure, and they set out thinking that the two Kings and the Wazir were with them; knowing not that the three had made for the monastery. Such was the case with the host, but as regards the two Kings and the Minister, they tarried in their place till the end of that day. Now the Infidels who were with Zat al-Dawahi took their departure privily, after they had gone in to her and kissed her hands and feet and obtained her leave to march. So she not only gave them permission but also taught them all she minded of wile and guile. And when it was dark night, she arose and went in to Zau al-Makan and his companions and said to them, “Come, let us set out for the mountain, and take with you a few men at arms.” They obeyed her and left five horsemen at the foot of the mountain, whilst the rest rode on before Zat al-Dawahi, who gained new strength for excess of joy, so that Zau al-Makan said, “Glory be to Him who sustaineth this holy man, whose like we never saw!” Now the witch had written a letter to the King of Constantinople and despatched it on the wings of a bird,1 acquainting him with what had passed and ending, “I wish thee to send me ten thousand horsemen of the bravest of the Greeks and let them steal along the foot of the mountains with caution, lest the host of Al–Islam get sight of them; and, when they reach the hermitage, let them ambush themselves there, till I come to them with the Moslem King and his brother, for I shall inveigle them and will bring them thither, together with the Wazir and an hundred horse and no more, that I may presently deliver to them the crosses which be in the hermitage. I am resolved to slay the Monk Matruhina, since my scheme cannot be carried out but by taking his life. If my plot work well, not one of the Moslems shall return to his own country; no, not a living wight nor one who blows the fire alight; and Matruhina shall be a sacrifice for the followers of the Nazarene faith and the servants of the Cross, and praise be to the Messiah, first and last.” When this letter reached Constantinople, the keeper of the carrier pigeons carried it to King Afridun, who read it and forthwith inspected his host and equipped ten thousand cavaliers with horses and dromedaries and mules and provaunt and bade them repair to that hermitage and, after reaching the tower, to hide therein. Thus far concerning them; but as regards King Zau al-Makan and his brother Sharrkan and the Wazir Dandan and the escort, when they reached the hermitage they entered and met the Monk Matruhina, who came out to see who and what they were; whereupon quoth that pious man Zat al-Dawahi, “Slay this damned fellow.”2 So they smote him with their swords and made him drink the cup of death. Then the accursed old woman carried them to the place of offerings and ex votos, and brought out to them treasures and precious things more than she had described to them; and after gathering the whole together, they set the booty in chests and loaded the mules therewith. As for Tamasil, she came not, she or her father, for fear of the Moslems; so Zau al-Makan tarried there, awaiting her all that day and the next and a third, till Sharrkan said to him, “By Allah, I am troubled anent the army of Al–Islam, for I know not what is become of them.” His brother replied, “And I also am concerned for them: we have come by this great treasure and I do not believe that Tamasil or any one else will approach the hermitage, after that befel which hath befallen the host of the Christians. It behoveth us, then, to content ourselves with what Allah hath given us and depart; so haply He will help us conquer Constantinople.” Accordingly they came down from the mountain, while Zat al-Dawahi was impotent to oppose their march for fear of betraying her deceit; and they fared forwards till they reached the head of a defile, where the old woman had laid an ambush for them with the ten thousand horse. As soon as these saw the Moslems they encircled them from all sides, couching lance and baring the white sabre blade; and the Infidels shouted the watch word of their faithless Faith and set the shafts of their mischief astring. When Zau al-Makan and his brother Sharrkan and the Minister Dandan looked upon this host, they saw that it was a numerous army and said, “Who can have given these troops information of us?” Replied Sharrkan, “O my brother, this be no time for talk; this is the time for smiting with swords and shooting with shafts) so gird up your courage and hearten your hearts, for this strait is like a street with two gates; though, by the virtue of the Lord of Arabs and Ajams, were not the place so narrow I would bring them to naught, even though they were an hundred thousand men!” Said Zau al-Makan, “Had we wotted this we would have brought with us five thousand horse;” and the Wazir Dandan continued, “If we had ten thousand horse they had availed us naught in these narrows; but Allah will succour us against them. I know this defile and its straitness, and I know there be many places of refuge in it; for I have been here on razzia with King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, what while we besieged Constantinople. We abode in this place, and here is water colder than snow. So come, let us push out of this defile ere the Infidel host increase on us and get the start of us to the mountain top, whence they will hurl down rocks upon us, and we powerless to come at them.” So they began hurrying on to get out of those narrows; but the pious man, Zat al-Dawahi, looked at them and said, “What is it ye fear, ye who have vowed yourselves to the Lord, and to working His will? By Allah, I abode imprisoned underground for fifteen years, yet never gainsaid the Almighty in aught he did with me! Fight ye in Allah’s way; so whoever of you is slain Paradise shall be his abode, and whoso slayeth, his striving shall be to his honour.” When they heard from the ascetic these words, their care and anxiety ceased from them and they stood firm till the Infidels charged down from all sides, whilst the swords played upon their necks and the cup of death went round amongst them. The Moslems fought for the service of Allah a right good fight, and wrought upon His foes with sway of sword and lunge of lance; whilst Zau al-Makan smote upon the men and garred the knights bite the dust and their heads from their bodies take flight, five by five and ten by ten, till he had done to death a number of them past numbering and an accompt beyond counting. Now while so doing, he looked at the accursed old woman who was waving her sword and heartening them, and all who feared fled to her for shelter; but she was also signing the Infidels to slay Sharrkan. So troop after troop rushed on him with design to do him die; but each troop that charged, he charged and drove back; and when another troop attacked him he repelled the assault with the sword in their backs; for he thought it was the devotee’s blessing that gave him the vic tory, and he said in himself, “Verily on this holy men Allah looketh with eyes of His favour and strengtheneth my prowess against the Infidels with the purity of his pious intent: for I see that they fear me and cannot prevail against me, but every one who assaileth me turneth tail and taketh flight.” So they battled the rest of the day and, when night fell, the Moslems took refuge in a cave of that defile being weary with stress of war and cast of stone: and that day were slain of them five and forty. And when they were gathered together, they sought the devotee, but could find no trace of him; and this was grievous to them and they said, “Belike, he hath died a martyr.” Quoth Sharrkan, “I saw him heartening the horsemen with divine instances and using as talisman verses of Holy Writ.” Now while they were talking, behold, the accursed old woman, Zat al-Dawahi, stood before them, hending in hand the head of the Chief Captain of the ten thousand horse, a noble knight, a champion fierce in fight and a Satan for blight. One of the Turks had slain him with an arrow, and Allah hurried his soul to the fire; and when the Infidels saw what that Moslem had done with their leader, they all fell on him and wrought his bane and hewed him in pieces with their swords, and Allah hurried his soul to Heaven. Then the accursed old woman cut off that Knight’s head and brought it and threw it at the feet of Sharrkan and Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan. Now when Sharrkan sew her, he sprang up hastily before her and exclaimed, “Praised be Allah for thy safety and for our sighting thee, O holy man and devout champion of the Religion!” Replied she, O my son, I have sought martyrdom this day, and have thrown my life away amid the Infidel array, but they feared me with dismay. When ye dispersed, I waxed jealous for your honour; so I rushed on the Chief Knight their leader, albeit he was a match for a thousand horse, and I smote him till I severed head from trunk. Not one of the Infidels could near me; so I brought his head to you,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Carrier-pigeons were extensively used at this time. The Caliph Al-Násir li-Díni ‘lláh (regn. A.H. 575=1180) was, according to Ibn Khaldún, very fond of them. The moderns of Damascus still affect them. My successor, Mr. Consul Kirby Green, wrote an excellent report on pigeon-fancying at Damascus. The so-called Maundeville or Mandeville in A. D. 1322 speaks of carrier-pigeons in Syria as a well-known mode Of intercourse between lord and lord.
2 Mohammed who declared “There is no monkery in Al–Islam,” and who virtually abolished the priest, had an especial aversion to the shaveling (Ruhbán). But the “Gens æterna in quâ nemo nascitur” (Pliny v. 17) managed to appear even in Al-lslam, as Fakirs,, Dervishes, Súfis, etc. Of this more hereafter.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damned witch, Zat al-Dawahi, took the head of the Knight, the leader of the twenty thousand Infidels, she brought it and threw it down before Zau al-Makan and his brother Sharrkan and the Wazir Dandan, saying, “When I saw your condition, I waxed jealous for your honour; so I rushed on the Chief Knight and smote him with the sword till I severed head from trunk. And none could near me, so I brought his head to you, that you may be strengthened in Holy War and work out with your swords the will of the Lord of the Faithful. And now I purpose leaving you to strive against the Infidels, whilst I go to your army, though they be at the gates of Constantinople, and return with twenty thousand horse to destroy these Unfaithfuls.” Quoth Sharrkan, “How wilt thou pass to them, O thou holy man, seeing that the valley is blocked up on all sides by the Miscreants?” Quoth the accursed hag, “Allah will veil me from their eyes and they shall not sight me;1 nor, if any saw me, would he dare to attack me at that time, for I shall be as one non existing, absorbed in Allah, and He will fend off from me His foes.” “Thou sayest sooth, O holy man,” rejoined Sharrkan, “for indeed I have been witness of that; so, if thou can pass out at the first of the night, ’twill be best for us.” Replied she, “I will set out at this very hour and, if thou desire, thou shalt go with me and none shall see thee. Furthermore if thy brother also have a mind to go with us we will take him, but none else; for the shadow of a saint can cover only twain.” Sharrkan said, “As for me I will not leave my comrades; but, if my brother will, there is no harm in his going with thee and setting us free of this strait; for he is the stronghold of the Moslems and the sword of the Lord of the three Worlds; and if it be his pleasure, let him take with him the Wazir Dandan, or whom else he may elect and send us ten thousand horse to succour us against these caitiffs.” So after debate they agreed on this and the old woman said, “Give me leisure to go before you and consider the condition of the Infidels, if they be asleep or awake.” Quoth they, “We will not go forth save with thee and trust our affair to Allah.” “If I do your bidding,” replied she, “blame me not but blame yourselves; for it is my rede that you await me till I bring you tidings of the case.” Then said Sharrkan, “Go to them and delay not from us, for we shall be awaiting thee.” Thereupon she fared forth and Sharrkan turned to his brother addressing him and said, “Were not this holy man a miracle worker, he had never slain yonder furious knight. This is proof sufficient of the ascetic’s power; and of a truth the pride of the Infidels is laid low by the slaying of this cavalier, for he was violent, an evil devil and a stubborn.” Now whilst they were thus devising of the mighty works of the devotee, behold, the accursed Zat al-Dawahi came upon them and promised them victory over the Unbelievers; wherefor they thanked her (not knowing that all this was wile and guile) and the damned hag asked, “Where be the King of the Age, Zau al-Makan, and the Minister Dandan?” Answered he, “Here am I!” Take with thee thy Wazir,” said she, “and follow after me, that we may fare forth to Constantinople.” Now she had acquainted the Infidels with the cheat she had put upon the Moslems, and they rejoiced with exceeding great joy, and said, Our hearts will not be contented till we shall have slain their King in return for the Knight’s death; because we had no stouter rider than he;” and they added (bespeaking the ill omened hag as she told them her plan of faring to the land of the Moslems), “When thou bringest him to us, we will bear him to King Afridun.” Then she went out and went out with her Zau al-Makan and the Minister Dandan, and she walked on before the two saying, “Fare forth with the blessing of Almighty Allah!” So they did her bidding, for the shaft of Pate and Fortune of man’s lot had shot them, and she ceased not leading them both through the midst of the Grecian camp, till they came to the defile, the narrow pass aforesaid, whilst the Infidel enemy watched them, but did them no hindrance; for the infernal old woman had enjoined this. Now when Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan saw that the Infidel host offered them no let and stay and yet had them in sight, the Wazir exclaimed, “By Allah, this is one of the holy man’s saintly miracles! and doubtless he be of the elect.” Rejoined Zau al-Makan, “By Allah, I think the Infidels be naught but blind, for we see them and they see us not.” And while they were thus praising the holy man and recounting his mighty works and his piety and his prayers, behold, the Infidels charged down on them from all sides and surrounded them and seized them, saying, “Is there anyone else with you twain, that we may seize upon him too?” And the Wazir Dandan replied, “See you not yon other man that is before us? ’ Replied the Unbelievers, “By the truth of the Messiah and the Monks, and the Primate and the Metropolitan, we see none save you two!” Then Zau Al–Makan said, “By Allah, this is a chastisement decreed to us by Almighty Allah!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. her holiness would act like a fascinating talisman.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Unfaithful had seized upon King Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan, they said to the two, “Is there anyone else with you twain, that we may seize upon him also?” And the Wazir Dandan replied, “See you not yon other man who be with us?” They rejoined, “By the truth of the Messiah and the Monks and the Primate and the Metropolitan, we see none save you two!” Then the Infidels laid shackles on their feet and set men to guard them during the night, whilst Zat al-Dawahi fared on and disappeared from their sight. So they fell to lamenting and saying to each other, “Verily, the opposing of pious men leadeth to greater distress than this, and we are punished by the strait which hath befallen us.” So far concerning Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan; but as regards King Sharrkan, he passed that night in the cavern with his comrades, and when dawned the day and he had prayed the morn prayer, he and his men made ready to do battle with the Infidel and he heartened them and promised them all good. Then they sallied out till they were hard upon the Unbelievers and, when these saw them from afar, they cried out to them, saying, “O Moslems, we have taken captives your Sultan and your Wazir who hath the ordering of your affairs; and except ye leave off fighting us, we will slay you to the last man; but an you yield yourselves we will take you to our King, who will make peace with you on condition that you quit our country and return home and harm us in naught, and we will do you no harm in aught. If ye accept, it will be well for you; but if ye refuse there remaineth nothing for you but death. So we have told you sooth, and this is our last word to you.” Now when Sharrkan heard this and was certified of the captivity of his brother and the Wazir Dandan, he was weighed down with woe and wept; his force failed him and, making sure of death, he said to himself, “Would I knew the cause of their capture! Did they fail of respect to the holy man or disobey him, or what was the matter?” Then they sprang up to battle with the Unbelievers and slew great numbers of them. The brave was known that day from craven men, and sword and spear were dyed with bloody stain; for the Infidels flocked up on them, as flies flock to drink, from hill and from plain; but Sharrkan and his men ceased not to wage the fight of those who fear not to die, nor let death hinder them from the pursuit of victory, till the valley ran gore and earth was full of the slain she bore. And when night fell the armies separated each making for his own place; and the Moslems returned to the cavern where gain and loss were manifest to them: few remained of them and there was no dependence for them but on Allah and the scymitar. Now there had been slain of them that day five and thirty men of the chiefest Emirs, and they had killed thousands of the Infidels, footmen and fighters on horse. When Sharrkan saw this, the case was grievous to him and he asked his comrades “What shall we do?”; whereto all answered, “That which Almighty Allah willeth shall befal us.” On the morning of the second day, Sharrkan said to the remnant of his troop, “If ye go forth to fight, not one of you will remain alive and we have but little left of food and water; so I deem ye would do better to bare your brands and go forth and stand at the mouth of this cavern, to hinder any from entering. Haply the holy man may have reached the Moslem host, and may return with ten thousand horses to succour us in fight with the Infidels, for belike the Unfaithful may have failed to see him and those with him.” They said, This were the better course to take, and of its expediency no doubt we make.” So the troop went out and held the cavern mouth standing by its walls; and every one of the Infidels who sought to enter in, they slew. Thus did they fend off the foe from the gape of the cave and they patiently supported all such assaults, till day was done and night came on dusky and dun; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the army of the Moslems held the cavern mouth and stood by its walls and they fended off the foe, and every one of the Infidels attempted to charge them, him they slew; and they patiently supported all such assaults till day was done and night came on dusky and dun, by which time King Sharrkan had only five and twenty men and no more left. Then quoth the Infidels to one another, “When shall these battle days have an end? We are weary of warring the Moslems.” And quoth one of them, “Up and at them, for there remain of them but five and twenty men! If we cannot prevail on them to fight, let us light a fire upon them;1 and if they submit themselves and yield to us, we will take them prisoners; but if they refuse we will leave them for fuel to the fire, so shall they become to men of foreseeing mind a warning dire. May the Messiah on their fathers have no grace, and may the sojourn of the Nazarenes be for them no abiding place!” So they carried fuel to the jaws of the cavern and set fire to it. Thereupon Sharrkan and his companions made sure of perdition and yielded themselves prisoners. And while they were in this condition, lo! the knight their captain said to those who counselled their slaughter, “It is not for any save for King Afridun to kill them, that he may gratify his wrath; therefore it behoveth us to keep them in durance by us till the morrow, when we will journey with them to Constantinople and deliver them to our King, who shall deal with them as he please.” Said they, “This is the right course;” and he commanded to pinion them and set guards over them. Then, as soon as it was black night, the Infidels busied themselves with feasting and making festival; and they called for wine and drank it till all fell upon their backs. Now Sharrkan and his brother, Zau al-Makan, were in confinement and so also were his companion knights; whereupon the elder turned to the younger brother and said to him, “O my brother, how win free?” “By Allah,” replied Zau al Makan, “I know not; for here we be like birds in cage.” Then Sharrkan waxed wroth and sighed for excess of rage and stretched himself, till his pinion bonds brass asunder; whereupon being free he arose and went up to the Captain of the guard, and taking from his pocket the keys of the fetters, freed Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan and the rest of his men. Then he turned to the two and said, “I desire to slay three of these Infidels and take and don their dress, we three; so that we shall be guised as Greeks and we will pass through them, with out their knowing us, and fare forth to our own force.” Replied Zau al-Makan, “This is no safe counsel for if we kill them, I fear some of their comrades may hear their shrieks and the foe be aroused upon us and kill us. ’Twere the surer way to pass out of the defile.” So they agreed upon this and set out; and, when they had left the head of the strait a little distance behind, they saw horses picketed and the riders sleeping: and Sharrkan said to his brother, “Better we take each one of us a steed.” There were five and twenty horsemen, so they took five and twenty horses, whilst Allah sent sleep upon the Infidels for a purpose He knew and the Faithful mounted and fared on till they were out of reach. Meanwhile Sharrkan set to gathering from the Infidels as many weapons, swords, and spears, as were wanted. And while they took saddle and struck forwards none of the Infidels supposed that anyone could release Zau al-Makan and his brother and their men; or that their prisoners had power to escape. Now when all the captives were safe from the Unfaithful, Sharrkan came up with his comrades, and found them awaiting his arrival, on coals of flame, expecting him in anxious grame, so he turned to them and said, “Feel no fear since Allah protecteth us. I have that to propose which haply shall effect our purpose.” “What is it?” asked they and he answered, “I desire that ye all climb to the mountain top and cry out with one voice, ‘Allaho Akbar!’ and ye add, ‘The army of Al Islam is upon you! Allaho Akbar!’ This wise their company will surely be dissolved nor will they find out the trick for they are drunk, but they will think that the Moslem troops have encompassed them about on all sides and have mingled with them; so they will fall on one another brand in hand during the confusion of drunkenness and sleep, and we will cleave them asunder with their own swords and the scymitar will go round amongst them till dawn.” Replied Zau al-Makan, “This plan is not good; we should do better to make our way to our army and speak not a word; for if we cry out ‘Allaho Akbar,’ they will wake and fall on us and not one of us will escape.” Rejoined Sharrkan, “By Allah, though they should awake tis no matter, and I long that ye fall in with my plan, for naught save good can come of it!” So they agreed thereon and clomb the mountain and shouted, “Allaho Akbar!” And hills and trees and rocks reworded their Allaho Akbar for fear of the Almighty. But when the Kafirs heard this slogan they cried out to one another — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The “smoking out” practice is common amongst the Arabs: hence Marshal Pelissier’s so — called “ barbarity.” The Public is apt to forget that on a campaign the general’s first duty is to save his own men by any practice which the laws of fair warfare do not absolutely forbid.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sharrkan spake thus, “I long that ye fall in with this my plan, for naught save good can come of it.” So they agreed thereon and clomb the mountain head and shouted, “Allaho Akbar!”; and hills and trees and rocks re worded their Allaho Akbar for fear of the Almighty. The Infidels heard it and cried out one to other and donned their armour and said, “The foe is upon us, by the truth of the Messiah!” Then they fell on one another and slew of their own men more than any knoweth save Almighty Allah. As soon as it was dawn, they sought for the captives, but found no trace of them, and their captains said, “They who did this were the prisoners in our possession; up, then, and after them in all haste till ye overtake them, when we will make them quaff the cup of requital; and let not fright nor the panic of sudden awaking possess you.” So they took horse and rode after the fugitives and it wanted but an eye twinkling before they overtook them and surrounded them. Now when Zau al-Makan saw this, he was seized with increase of terror and said to his brother, “What I feared would come, is come upon us, and now it remaineth only for us to fight for the Faith.” But Sharrkan preferred to hold his peace. Then Zau al-Makan and his companions rushed down from the hill crest, shouting, “Allaho Akbar!” and his men repeated the war cry and addressed themselves to fight and to sell their lives in the service of the Lord of Faithful Men; and while they were in this case, behold, they heard many voices voicing, “There is no god but the God! God is most great! Salutation and salvation upon the Apostle, the Bringer of glad Tidings, the Bearer of bad Tidings!’’1 So they turned towards the direction of the sound and saw a company of Moslems who believed in one God, pushing towards them, whereat their hearts were heartened and Sharrkan charged upon the Infidels crying out, “There is no god but the God! God is most great! he and those with him, so that earth quaked as with an earthquake and the Unbeliever host brake asunder and fled into the mountains and the Moslems followed them with lunge and blow; and Zau al-Makan and his comrades of the Moslems ceased not to smite the hosts of the Infidel foe, and parted heads from bodies till day darkened and night coming on starkened sight. Thereupon the Moslems drew together and passed the night in congratulations, and, when morning dawned and daybreak shone with its shine and sheen, they saw Bahram, the captain of the Daylamites, and Rustam, the captain of the Turks, advancing to join them, with twenty thousand cavaliers like lions grim. As soon as they saw Zau al-Makan, the riders dismounted and saluted him, and kissed ground between his hands when he said to them, “Rejoice ye in the glad tidings of the victory of the Moslem and the discomfiture of the tribe of Unbelievers!” Then they gave one another joy of their deliverance and of the greatness of their reward after Resurrection Day. Now the cause of the coming of the succours to that place was this. When the Emir Bahram and the Emir Rustam and the Chief Chamberlain, with the Moslem host and flags flaunting high ahead, came in sight of Constantinople they saw that the Nazarenes had mounted the walls and manned the towers and the forts, and had set all their defenders in order of defence, as soon as they learned of the approach of the host of Al–Islam and the banners Mohammedan, and they heard the clash of arms and the noise of war voices and tramp of horse hoofs and from their look outs they beheld the Moslems, with their standards and ensigns of the Faith of Unity under the dust clouds and lo! they were like a flight of locusts or rain clouds raining rain, and the voices of the Moslems chanting the Koran and glorifying the Compassionate One, struck their ears. Now the Infidels knew of the approach of this host through Zat al-Dawahi with her craft and whoredom,2 calumny and contrivance. And the armies of Al–Islam drew near, as it were the swollen sea, for the multitude of footmen and horsemen and women and children. Then quoth the General of the Turks to the General of the Daylamites, “O Emir, of a truth, we are in jeopardy from the multitude of the foe who is on the walls. Look at yonder bulwarks and at this world of folk like the seas that clash with dashing billows. Indeed yon Infidel outnumbereth us an hundredfold and we cannot be safe from spies who may inform them that we are without a Sultan. In very sooth, we run danger from these enemies, whose numbers may not be told and whose resources none can withhold, especially in the absence of King Zau al-Makan and his brother Sharrkan and the illustrious Wazir Dandan. If they know of this, they will be emboldened to attack us in their absence and with the sword they will annihilate us to the last man; not one of us safety shall see. So it is my counsel that thou take ten thousand riders of the allies and the Turks, and march them to the hermitage of Matruhina and the meadow of Malúkhiná in quest of our brothers and comrades. If thou act by my advice, it may be we shall approve ourselves the cause of their deliverance, in case they be hard pressed by the Infidels; and if thou act not, blame will not attach to me. But, an ye go, it behoveth that ye return quickly, for ill suspicion is part of prudence.” The Emir aforesaid fell in with his counsel; so they chose twenty thousand horse and they set out covering the roads and making for the monastery above mentioned. So much for the cause of their coming; but as regards the ancient dame, Zat al-Dawahi, as soon as she had delivered Sultan Zau al-Makan and his brother Sharrkan and the Wazir Dandan into the hands of the Infidels, the foul whore mounted a swift steed, saying to the Faithless, “I design to rejoin the Moslem army which is at Constantinople and contrive for their destruction; for I will inform them that their chiefs are dead, and when they hear that from me, their joining will be disjointed and the cord of their confederation cut and their host scattered. Then will I go to King Afridun, Lord of Constantinople, and to my son Hardub, King of Roum, and relate to them their tidings and they will sally forth on the Moslems with their troops and will destroy them and will not leave one of them alive.” So she mounted and struck across country on her good steed all the livelong night; and, when day dawned, appeared the armies of Bahram and Rustam advancing towards her. So she turned into a wayside brake and hid her horse among the trees and she walked a while saying to herself, “Haply the Moslem hosts be returning, routed, from the assault of Constantinople.” However, as she drew near them she looked narrowly and made sure that their standards were not reversed,3 and she knew that they were coming not as conquered men, but fearing for their King and comrades. When she was assured of this, she hastened towards them, running at speed, like a devil of ill rede, till reaching them she cried out, “Haste ye! haste ye! O soldiers of the Compassionate One, hasten to the Holy War against the hosts of Satan!” When Bahram saw her he dismounted and kissed the ground before her and asked her, “O friend of Allah what is behind thee?” Answered she, “Question not of sad case and sore condition; for when our comrades had taken the treasure from the hermitage of Matruhina, and designed to win their way Constantinople wards, thereupon came out on them a driving host and a dreadful of the Infidels.” And the damned witch repeated to them the story to fill them with trouble and terror, adding, “The most of them are dead, and there are but five and twenty men left.” Said Bahram, “O holy man! when didst thou leave them?” “But this night,”4 replied she. He cried, “Glory be to Allah! to Him who hath rolled up the far distance for thee like a rug, so that thou hast sped thus walking upon thy feet and props upon a mid-rib of palm-tree! But thou art one of the saints which fly like birds when inspired and possessed by His directions.”5 Then he mounted his horse, and he was perplexed and confounded by what he had heard from the beldam so strong in lies and ill calumnies, and he said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily our labour is lost and our hearts are heavy within us, for our Sultan is a prisoner and those who are with him.” Then they cut across the country, wide and side, night and day, and when morning dawned they reached the head of the defile and saw Zau al-Makan and Sharrkan shouting. “There is no god but the God! Allaho Akbar! and Salutation and Salvation upon the Congratulator, the Comminator.”6 Whereupon he and his drove at the Unbelievers and whelmed them, as the rain torrent whelms the waste; and cried out their war cries, till fear get hold of the prowess Knights and the mountains were cloven in affright. And when shone the day and showed its shine and sheen, the breeze of morning blew upon them sweet and fragrant, and each recognised other as hath been said before. Then they kissed the ground before the King and before his brother Sharrkan, who told them all that had befallen the party in the cave. Now thereat they marvelled and said to one another, “Hasten we back to Constantinople, for we left our companions there, and our hearts are with them.” So they hurried departure, commending themselves to the Subtle, the All-wise, and Zau al-Makan exhorted the Moslems to steadfast — ness and versified in the following couplets,7
“Be praises mine to all praiseworthy Thee,
O Lord, who stinted not mine aid to be!
Though was I lost abroad, Thou west to me
Strongest support which vouchsafed victory:
Thou gav’st me wealth and reign and goodly gifts,
And slungest con quering sword of valiancy:
Thou mad’st me blest beneath Thy kingly shade,
Engraced with generous boons dealt fain and free:
Thou savedst from every fear I feared, by aid
Of my Wazir, the
Age’s noblest he!
Garred us Thy grace in fight to throw the Greek,
Who yet came back dight in War’s cramoisie:
Then made I feint to fly from out the fight;
But like grim lion turning made them flee,
And left on valley sole my foemen, drunk
Not with old wine8 but Death-cup’s revelry:
Then came the Saintly Hermit, and he showed
His marvels wrought for town and wold to see;
When slew they hero-wights who woke to dwell
In Eden bowers wherein sweet rill-lets well.”
But, when Zau al-Makan had made an end of versifying, his brother Sharrkan congratulated him on his safety and thanked him for the deeds he had done; after which both set out forcing their marches to rejoin their army. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. Mohammed, who promised Heaven and threatened Hell.
2 Arab. “Ahr” or “ihr,” fornication or adultery, i.e., irreligion, infidelity as amongst the Hebrews (Isaiah xxiii.17).
3 A sign of defeat.
4 In English “last night”: I have already noted that the Moslem day, like the Jewish and the Scandinavian, begins at sundown; and “layl “ a night, is often used to denote the twenty- four hours between sunset and sunset, whilst “yaum,” a day, would by us be translated in many cases “battle-day.”
5 Iterum the “Himalayan Brothers.”
6 Again, Mohammed who promised Good to the Good, and vice versâ.
7 They are sad doggrel like most of the pièces d’occasion inserted in The Nights.
8 Here “Kahwah” (coffee) is used in its original sense of strong old wine. The derivation is “Akhá”=fastidire fecit, causing disinclination for food, the Matambre (kill — hunger) of the Iberians. In old days the scrupulous called coffee “Kihwah” in order to distinguish it from ‘Kakwah,” wine.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sharrkan congratulated his brother, Zau al-Makan, on his safety and thanked him for the deeds he had done; after which both set out forcing their marches to rejoin their army. Such was their case; but as regards the old woman, Zat al-Dawahi, after she had foregathered with the hosts of Rustam and Bahram, she returned to the coppice, where she took her steed and mounted and sped on at speed, till she drew near the Moslem army that beleaguered Constantinople, when she lighted down from her destrier and led it to the pavilion tent of the Chief Chamberlain. And when he saw her, he stood up to her in honour and signed to her with his right hand and said, “Welcome O pious recluse!” Then he questioned her of what had befallen, and she repeated to him her disquieting lies and deluding calumnies, saying, “In sooth I fear for the Emir Rustam, and the Emir Bahram, for that I met them and theirs on the way and sent them and their following to relieve the King and his companions. Now there are but twenty thousand horse and the Unbelievers outnumber them; so I would have thee at this moment send off the rest of thy troops at full speed to their suc cour, lest they be slain to the last man.” And she cried to them, “Haste! Haste!” When the Chamberlain and the Moslems heard these words, their spirits fell and they wept; but Zat al-Dawahi said to them, “Ask aidance of Allah and bear patiently this triburation; for ye have the example of those who have been before you of the people of Mohammed; and Paradise with its palaces is laid out by Allah for those who die martyrs; and needs must all die, but most praiseworthy is dying while fighting for the Faith.” The Chamberlain, hearing this speech of the accursed old woman, called for the Emir Bahram’s brother, a knight by name Tarkash; and, choosing out for him ten thousand horse, riders famed for force, bade him set out at once. So he fared forth and marched all that day and the whole of the next night, till he neared the Moslems. When daylight dawned, Sharrkan saw the dust cloud about them and feared for the men of Al–Islam and said, “If these troops which are coming upon us be Moslem men our victory is assured by them; but, if these be Nazarenes, there is no gainsaying Destiny’s decrees.” Then he turned to his brother, Zau al — Makan, and said, Never fear, for with my life I will ransom thee from death. If these be Mohammedan troops, then were it an increase of heavenly favours; but, if they be our foes, there is no help save that we fight them. Yet do I long to meet the Holy Man ere I die, so I may beg him to pray that I die not save by death of martyrdom.” Whilst the twain were thus speaking, behold, there appeared the banners inscribed with the words, “There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God;” and Sharrkan cried out, “How is it with the Moslems?” “All are sound and safe,” replied they, “and we came not but out of concern for you.” Then the Chief of the army dismounted and, kissing ground before Sharrkan, asked, “O my lord, how be the Sultan and the Wazir Dandan and Rustam and my brother Bahram; are they all in safety?” He answered, “All well; but who brought thee tidings of us?” Quoth Tarkash; “It was the Holy Man who told us that he had met my brother Bahram and Rustam and had sent them both to you and he also assured us that the Infidels had encompassed you and out numbered you; but I see not the case save the contrary thereof and that you are victorious.” They questioned him, “And how did the Holy Man reach you?”; and he replied, “Walking on his feet and he had compassed in a day and a night, ten days’ journey for a well girt horseman.” “There is no doubt but that he is a Saint of Allah,” said Sharrkan, “but where is he now?” They rejoined, “We left him with our troops, the folk of the Faith, moving them to do battle with the rebels and the Faithless.” Thereat Sharrkan rejoiced and all thanked Allah for their own deliverance and the safety of the Holy Man; and commended the dead to His mercy saying, “This was writ in the Book.” Then they set out making for Constantinople by forced marches, and whilst they were on this enterprise, behold, a dust cloud arose to such height that it walled the two horizons, the eastern and the western, from man’s sight and the day was darkened by it to night. But Sharrkan looked at it and said, “Verily, I fear lest this be the Infidels who have routed the army of Al–Islam for that this dust walleth the world, east and west, and hideth the two horizons, north and south.” Presently appeared under the dust a pillar of darkness, blacker than the blackness of dismal days; nor ceased to come upon them that column more dreadful than the dread of the Day of Doom. Horse and foot hastened up to look at it and know the terrors of the case, when behold, they saw it to be the recluse aforesaid; so they thronged round him to kiss his hands and he cried out, “O people of the Best of Mankind,1 the lamp which shineth in darkness blind, verily the Infidels have outwitted the Moslems by guile, for they fell upon the host of the One God whilst they deemed themselves safe from the Faithless, and attacked them in their tents and made a sore slaughter of them what while they looked for no wile; so hasten to the aid of the Believers in the unity of God, and deliver them from those who deny Him!” Now when Sharrkan heard these words, his heart flew from his breast with sore trouble; and, alighting from his steed in amazement, he kissed the Recluse’s hands and feet. On like wise did his brother, Zau al-Makan, and the rest of the foot and horse troops; except the Wazir Dandan, who dismounted not but said, “By Allah, my heart flieth from this devotee, for I never knew show of devotion to religion that bred not bane. So leave him and rejoin your comrades the Moslems, for this man is of the outcasts from the gate of the mercy of the Lord of the Three Worlds! How often have I here made razzias with King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and trodden the earth of these lands!” Said Sharrkan, “Put away from thee such evil thought, hast thou not seen this Holy Man exciting the Faithful to fight, and holding spears and swords light? So slander him not, for backbiting is blameable and poisoned is the flesh of the pious.2 Look how he inciteth us to fight the foe; and, did not Almighty Allah love him, He had cast him aforetime into fearful torment.” Then Sharrkan bade bring a Nubian mule for the ascetic to ride and said, “Mount, O pious man, devout and virtuous!” But the devotee refused to ride and feigned self denial, that he might attain his end; and they knew not that this holy personage was like him of whom the poet saith,
“He prayeth and he fasteth for an end he doth espy;
When once his end is safely won then fast and prayer good bye.”3
So the devotee ceased not to walk among the horsemen and the footmen, like a wily fox meditating guile, and began to uplift her voice, chanting the Koran and praising the Compassionate One. And they continued pressing forward till they approached the camp of Al–Islam, where Sharrkan found the Moslem in conquered plight and the Chamberlain upon the brink of falling back in flight, whilst the sword of Greece havoc dight among the Faithful, the righteous and those who work upright — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sharrkan saw the Moslems in conquered plight and the Chamberlain upon the brink of retreat and flight and the sword havoc dight among the righteous and the workers of upright, the cause of this weakness among the Moslems was that the accursed old woman, Zat al — Dawahi, the foe of the Faith, after seeing that Bahram and Rustam had set forward with their troops to join Sharrkan and his brother Zau al-Makan, repaired to the camp of the Mahometans before Constantinople and caused the mission of the Emir Tarkash, as hath been before said. In this her purpose was to divide the Moslem forces the better to weaken them. Then she left them and entered Constantinople, and called with a loud voice on the knights of the Greeks, saying, “Let me down a cord that I may tie thereto this letter, and do ye bear it to your King Afridun, that he may read it and to my son King Hardub that they both do what is written therein of bidding and forbidding.” So they let down for her a string and she tied thereto a letter whose purport was the following: “From the terriblest of tribulations1 and the chiefest of all calamities, Zat al-Dawahi, to King Afridun greeting. But afterwards, of a truth I have contrived a device for destroying the Moslems; so bide ye quiet and content. I have cozened and captured their Sultan and the Wazir Dandan; and then I returned to their camp and acquainted them therewith, whereby their pride had a fall and their withers were wrung. And I have so wrought upon the host ‘leaguering Constantinople that they have sent ten thousand men under the Emir Tarkash to succour the capitves, of whom there be now left but few; it is therefore my object that ye sally forth against them with all your power while this day endureth; and that ye fall on them in their tents and that ye leave them not till ye shall have slain them to the last man; for, verily the Messiah looketh down upon you and the Blessed Virgin favoureth you; and I hope of the Messiah that he forget not what deed I have done.” When her letter came to King Afridun, he rejoiced with great joyance; and, sending at once for King Hardub of Greece, son of Zat al-Dawahi, read the letter to him as soon as he came,whereathe was exceeding glad and said, “See my mother’s craft; verily it dispenseth with swords, and her aspect standeth in stead of the terrors of the Day of Dread.” Rejoined Afridun, “May the Messiah not bereave us of thy venerable parent nor deprive her of her wile and guile!” Then he bade the Knights give orders for sallying outside the city, and the news was noised abroad in Constantinople. So the Nazarenes and the cohorts of the Cross burst forth and unsheathed their keen sabres in their numbers, shouting out their professions of impiety and heresies, and blaspheming the Lord of all Creatures. When the Chamberlain saw the sally, he said, “Behold, the Greek is upon us and they surely have learned that our Sultan is far away; and haply they have attacked us, for that the most part of our troops have marched to the succour of King Zau al-Makan!” Therewith he waxed wroth and cried out, “Ho, soldiers of Al–Islam and favourers of the True Faith, an you flee you are lost, but if ye stand fast, ye win! Know ye that valiancy lieth in endurance of outrance and that no case is so strait but that the Almighty is able to make it straight; Allah assain you and look upon you with eyes of compassion fain!” Thereupon the Moslems cried out, “Allaho Akbar!” and the believer in the One God shouted his slogan, and whirled the mill wheels of fight with cutting and thrusting in main and might; scymitars and spears played sore and the plains and valleys were swamped with gore. The priests and monks priested it, tight girding their girdles and uplifting the Crucifixes, while the Moslem shouted out the professions of the Requiting King and verses of the Koran began to sing. The hosts of the Compassion are One fought against the legions of Satan; and head flew from body of man, while the good Angels hovered above the people of the Chosen Prophet, nor did the sword cease to smite till the day darkened and night came on and starkened. Now the miscreants had encompassed the Moslems and made sure of escaping the pains that awaited them; and the Faithless greeded for victory over the Faithful until day dawned and dazzled. There upon the Chamberlain mounted, he and his men, trusting thee Allah would help them to victory; and host was mingled with host and battle rose a foot and took post. And heads flew from trunks whilst the brave stood fast in stead; the craven turned tail and fled; and the Judge of death judged and sentence sped, so that the champions fell from their saddles slain and corpses cumbered meadow and plain. Then the Moslem began to give ground and rearwards bent; and the Greek took possession of some of their tents; whereupon the Moslems were about to break and retreat and take flight, when meanwhile behold, up came Sharrkan with the rest of the host of Al–Islam and the standards of the Believers in Unity. And having come up with them, he charged the Infidels; and followed him Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan and the Emirs Bahram and Rustam with his brother Tarkash. When the foe saw this, they lost head and their reason fled, and the dust clouds towered till they covered the country whilst the righteous Believers joined their pious comrades. Then Sharrkan accosted the Chamberlain and praised him for his steadfastness; and he in turn gave the Prince joy of his timely succour and his gaining the day. Thereat the Moslems were glad and their hearts were heartened; so they rushed upon their enemies and devoted themselves to Allah in their Fight for the Faith. But when the Idolaters beheld the standards Mohammedan and there on the profession of Faith Islamitan, proclaiming the Unity, they shrieked “Woe!” and “Ruin!” and besought succour of the Patriarchs of the Monasteries. Then fell they to calling upon John and Mary and the Cross abhorrent and stayed their hands from slaughter, whilst King Afridun went up to consult King Hardub of Greece, for the two Kings stood one at the head of each wing, right and left. Now there was with them also a famous cavalier, Lawiya hight, who commanded the centre; and they drew out in battle array, but indeed they were full of alarm and affray. Meanwhile, the Moslems aligned their forces and thereupon Sharrkan came to his brother, Zau al-Makan, and said, “O King of the Age, doubtless they mean to champion it, and that is also the object of our desire; but it is my wish to push forward the stoutest hearted of our fighters, for by forethought is one half of life wrought.” Replied the Sultan, “As thou wilt, O companion of good counsel!” “It is my wish,” added Sharrkan, “to stand in mid line opposite the Infidel, with the Wazir Dandan on my left and thee on my right, whilst the Emir Bahram leads the dexter wing and the Emir Rustam leads the wing sinistral; and thou, O mighty King, shalt be under the standards and the ensigns, for that thou art the pillar of our defence; upon thee, after Allah, is our dependence and we will all be thy ransom from aught that can harm thee.” Zau al-Makan thanked him therefor, and the slogan arose and the sabre was drawn; but, as things stood thus, behold, there came forth a cavalier from the ranks of Roum; and, as he drew near, they saw that he was mounted on a slow paced she mule, fleeing with her master from the shock of swords. Her housings were of white silk covered by a prayer-carpet of Cash mere stuff, and on her back sat a Shaykh, an old man of comely presence and reverend aspect, garbed in a gown of white wool. He stinted not pushing her and hurrying her on till he came near the Moslem and said, “I am an ambassador to you all, and an ambassador hath naught to do save to deliver; so give me safe conduct and permit of speech, that I communicate to you my message.” Replied Sharrkan, “Thou art in safety: fear neither sway of sword nor lunge of lance.” Thereupon the old man dismounted and, taking the Cross from his neck, placed it before the Sultan and humbled himself with much humility. Then quoth to him the Moslems, “What is with thee of news?”; and quoth he, “I am an ambassador from King Afridun, for I counselled him to avert the destruction of all these frames of men and temples of the Compassionate One; and to him it seemed righteous to stay the shedding of blood and limit it to the encounter of two knights in shock of fight singular; so he agreed to that and he saith to you, ‘Verily, I will ransom my army with my life; so let the Moslem King do as I do and with his life ransom his host. And if he kill me, there will be no stay left in the army of Roum, and if I kill him, there will be no stability with the Moslems.” When Sharrkan heard this he said, “O monk, I agree to that, for it is just nor may it be gainsaid; and behold, I will meet him in duello and do with him derring do, for I am Champion of the Faithful even as he is Champion of the Faithless; and if he slay me, he will have won the day and naught will remain for the Moslems forces save flight. So return to him, O thou monk, and say that the single combat shall take place to morrow, for this day we have come off our journey and are aweary; but after rest neither reproach nor blame fear ye.” So the monk returned (and he rejoicing) to King Afridun and King Hardub, and told them both what Sharrkan had said, whereat King Afridun was glad with exceeding gladness and fell from him anxiety and sadness, and he said to himself, “No doubt but this Sharrkan is their doughtiest swayer of the sword and the dourest at lunge of lance; and when I shall have slain him, their hearts will be disheartened and their strength will be shattered.” Now Zat al-Dawahi had written to King Afridun of that and had told him how Sharrkan was a Knight of the Braves and the bravest of knights and had warned him against him; but Afridun was a stalwart cavalier who fought in many a fashion; he could hurl rocks and throw spears and smite with the iron mace and he feared not the prowess of the prow. So when he heard the report of the monk that Sharrkan agreed to the duello, he was like to fly for exceeding joy because he had self confidence and he knew that none could with stand him. The Infidels passed that night in joy and jubilee and wine bibbing; and, as soon as it was dawn, the two armies drew out with the swart of spear and the blanch of blade. And behold a cavalier rode single handed into the plain, mounted on a steed of purest strain, and for foray and fray full ready and fain. And that Knight had limbs of might and he was clad in an iron cuirass made for stress of fight. On his breast he wore a jewelled mirror and in his hand he bore a keen scymitar and his lance of Khalanj wood,2 the curious work of the Frank, weighing a quintal. Then the rider uncovered his face and cried out, saying, “Whoso knoweth me verily hath enough of me, and whoso knoweth me not right soon3 shall ken who I be. I am Afridun the overwhelmed by the well omened Shawáhi,4 Zat al-Dawahi.” But he had not ended speaking ere Sharrkan, the Champion of the Moslems, fared forth to meet him, mounted on a sorrel horse worth a thousand pieces of red gold with accoutrements purfled in pearls and precious stone; and he bore in baldrick a blade of watered Indian steel that through necks shore and made easy the hard and sore. He crave his charger between the two hosts in line whilst the horsemen all fixed on him their eyne, and he cried out to Afridun, “Woe to thee, O accursed! dost thou deem me one of the horsemen thou hast overta’en who cannot stand against thee on battle plain?” Then each rushed upon other and they bashed together like two mountains crashing or two billows dash ing and clashing: they advanced and retreated; and drew together and withdrew; and stinted not of fray and fight and weapon play, and strife and stay, with stroke of sword and lunge of lance. Of the two armies looking on, some said, “Sharrkan is victor!” and others, “Afridun will conquer!”; and the two riders stayed not their hands from the hustle until ceased the clamour and the bustle; and the dust columns rose and the day waned and the sun waxed yellow and wan. Then cried out King Afridun to Sharrkan, saying, “By the truth of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, thou art nought save a doughty rider and a stalwart fighter; but thou art fraudful and thy nature is not that of the noble. I ken thy work is other than praiseworthy nor is thy prowess that of a Prince; for thy people behave to thee as though thou wert a slave;5 and see! they bring thee out a charger which is not thine, that thou mayst mount and return to the fight. But by the truth of my Faith, thy fighting irketh and fatigueth me and I am weary of cutting and thrusting with thee; and if thou purpose to lay on load with me to night, thou wouldst not change aught of thy harness nor thy horse, till thou approve to the cavaliers, thy generous blood and skill in brunt.” When Sharrkan heard him say these words concerning his own folk behaving to him though he were a slave, he waxt wroth and turned towards his men, meaning to sign to them and bid them not prepare him change of harness or horse, when lo! Afridun shook his throw spear high in air and cast it at Sharrkan. Now when the Moslem turned his back, he found none of the men near him, and he knew this to be a trick of the accursed Infidel; so he wheeled round in haste and behold, the javelin came at him, so he swerved from it, till his head was bent low as his saddle bow. The weapon grazed his breast, and pierced the skin of his chest, for Sharrkan was high bosomed: whereupon he gave one cry and swooned away. Thereat the accursed Afridun was joyful, thinking he had slain him; and shouted to the Infidels bidding them rejoice, whereat the Faithless were encouraged and the Faithful wept. When Zau al-Makan saw his brother reeling in selle so that he well nigh fell, he despatched cavaliers towards him and the braves hurried to his aid and came up with him. Thereupon the Infidels drove at the Moslems; the two hosts joined battle and the two lines were mingled, whilst the keen scymitar of Al–Yaman did good work. Now the first to reach Sharrkan was the Wazir Dandan — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. to the enemy: the North American Indians (so called) use similar forms of “inverted speech”; and the Australian aborigines are in no way behind them.
2 See Vol. i., p. 154 (Night xvi.).
3 Arab. “Sauf,” a particle denoting a near future whereas “Sa-” points to one which may be very remote.
4 From the root “Shanh”=having a fascinating eye, terrifying. The Irish call the fascinater “eybitter” and the victim (who is also rhymed to death) “eybitten.”
5 i.e., not like the noble-born, strong in enduring the stress of fight.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Zau al-Makan saw that the accursed Infidel had struck with javelin his brother Sharrkan, he deemed him dead, and despatched cavaliers towards him; and the first to reach him were the Wazir Dandan and the Emir of the Turks, Bahram, and the Emir of the Daylamites, Rustam. They found him falling from his horse; so they stayed him in his saddle and returned with him to his brother, Zau al-Makan; then they gave him in charge to his pages, and went again to do the work of cut and thrust. So the strife redoubled and the weapons together clashed and ceased not bate and debate and naught was to be seen but blood flowing and necks bowing; nor did the swords cease on the napes of men to make play nor the strife to rage with more and more affray, till the most part of the night was past away and the two hosts were aweary of the mellay. So they called a truce and each army returned to its tents, whilst all the Infidels repaired to King Afridun and kissed the ground before him, and the priests and monks wished him joy of his victory over Sharrkan. Then the King fared for Constantinople and sat upon the throne of his realm, when King Hardub came to him and said, “May the Messiah strengthen thy fore arm and never cease to be thy helper and hearken to what prayers my pious mother, Zat al-Dawahi, shall pray for thee! Know that the Moslems can make no stay without Sharrkan.” Replied Afridun, “To morrow shall end the affair when to fight I fare: I will seek Zau al-Makan and slay him, and their army shall turn tail and of flight shall avail.” Such was the case with the Kafirs; but as regards the host of Al–Islam, when Zau al-Makan returned to his tent, he thought of naught but his brother and, going into the pavilion, found him in evil case and sore condition; whereupon he summoned for counsel the Wazir Dandan and Rustam and Bahram. When they entered, they opined to assemble the physicians that they might medicine Sharrkan, and they wept and said, “The world will not readily afford his like!” and they watched by him all that night, and about the later hours came to them the Recluse in tears. When Zau al-Makan saw him, he rose in honour; and the Religious stroked Sharrkan’s wound with his hand, chanting somewhat of the Koran and repeating by way of talisman some of the verses of the Compassionate One. And the pretender ceased not to watch over him till dawn, when he came to himself and, opening his eyes, moved his tongue in his mouth and spake. At this Zau al-Makan rejoiced, saying, “Of a truth the blessing of the Holy Man hath taken effect on him!” And Sharrkan said, “Praised be Allah for recovery; indeed, I am well at this hour. That accursed one played me false; and, but that I swerved aside lighter than lightening, the throw spear had pierced through my breast. So praised be Allah for saving me! And how is it with the Moslems?” Answered Zau al-Makan, “All are weeping for thee.” Quoth Sharrkan, “I am well and in good case; but where is the Holy Man?” Now he was sitting by him and said, “At thy head.” So the Prince turned to him and kissed his hand when he said, “O my son! Be of good patience and Allah shall increase thy reward; for the wage is measured by the work.” Sharrkan rejoined, “Pray for me,” and he prayed for him. As soon as morning dawned and day brake in shine and sheen, the Moslems sallied out to the plain and the Kafirs made ready to thrust and cut. Then the Islamite host advanced and offered fight with weapons ready dight, and King Zau al-Makan and Afridun made to charge one at other. But when Zau al-Makan fared forth into the field, there came with him the Wazir Dandan and the Chamberlain and Bahram, saying, “We will be thy sacrifice.” He replied, “By the Holy House and Zemzem and the Place!1 I will not be stayed from going forth against these wild asses.” And when he rode out into the field he played with sword and spear till riders marvelled and both armies wondered; then he rushed upon the foe’s right wing and of it slew two knights and in like manner he dealt with the left wing. Presently he stayed his steed in the midst of the field and cried out, “Where is Afridun, that I may make him taste the cup of disgrace?” But when King Hardub saw the case he conjured Afridun not to attack him, saying, “O King, yesterday it was thy turn to fight: it is mine to day. I care naught for his prowess.” So he rushed out towards Zau al-Makan brand in hand and under him a stallion like Abjar, which was Antar’s charger and its coat was jet black even as saith the poet,
“On the glancing racer outracing glance
He speeds, as though he would collar Doom:
His steed’s black coat is of darkest jet,
And likest Night in her nightliest gloom:
Whose neigh sounds glad to the hearer’s ears
Like thunders rolling in thun d’rous boom:
If he race the wind he will lead the way,
And the lightning flash will behind him loom.’’2
Then each rushed upon the opponent, parrying blows and proving the marvellous qualities were stored in him; and they fell to drawing on and withdrawing till the breasts of the bystanders were straitened and they were weary of waiting for the event. At last Zau al-Makan cried out his war cry and rushed upon Hardub, King of Cæsarea,3 and struck him a stroke that shore head from trunk and slew him on the spot. When the Infidels saw this, they charged in a body, compact and united, upon Zau al-Makan, who met them amidfield, and they engaged in hewing and foining, till blood ran in rills. Then the Moslems cried out, “Allaho Akbar!” (God is most Great) and “There is no god but the God!”, and invoked salvation for the Prophet, the Bringer of Glad Tidings, the Bearer of Bad Tidings. And there befel a great fight, but Allah assigned victory to the Faithful and defeat to the Faithless. The Wazir Dandan shouted, “Take your blood revenge for King Omar bin al Nu’uman and his son Sharrkan!”; and bared his head and cried out to the Turks. Now there were by his side more than twenty thousand horse, and all charged with him as men, when the Faithless found naught to save their lives but flight. So they turned tail to fly while the biting sabre wrought its havoc and the Moslems slew of them that day some fifty thousand horse and took more than that number: much folk also were slain while going in at the gates, for the flock was great. Then the Greeks hove to the doors and swarmed up the walls to await the assault; and in fine the Moslem hosts returned to their tents aided to glory and victory, and King Zau al-Makan went in to his brother whom he found in most joyous case. So he made a prostration of thanks to the Bountiful and the Exalted; and then he came forward and gave Sharrkan joy of his recovery. Answered he, “Verily we are all under the benediction of this Religious, holy and righteous, nor would you have been victorious, but for his accepted orisons; indeed all day he remained at prayer to invoke victory on the Moslems.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e., of Abraham. For the Well Zemzem and the Place of Abraham see my Pilgrimage (iii. 171–175, etc.), where I described the water as of salt-bitter taste, like that of Epsom (iii. 203). Sir William Muir (in his excellent life of Mahomet, I. cclviii.) remarks that “the flavour of stale water bottled up for months would not be a criterion of the same water freshly drawn;” but soldered tins-full of water drawn a fortnight before are to be had in Calcutta and elsewhere after Pilgrimage time; and analysis would at once detect the salt.
2 Racing was and is a favourite pastime with those hippomanists, the Arabs; but it contrasts strongly with our civilised form being a trial of endurance rather than of speed. The Prophet is said to have limited betting in these words, “There shall be no wagering save on the Kuff (camel’s foot), the Hafir (hoof of horse, ass, etc.) or the Nasal (arrow-pile or lance head).”
3 In the Mac. Edit. “Arman”=Armenia, which has before occurred. The author or scribe here understands by “Cæsarea” not the old Turris Stratonis, Herod’s city called after Augustus, but Cæsareia the capital of Cappadocia (Pliny, vi. 3), the royal residence before called Mazaca (Strabo).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zau al — Makan went in to his brother Sharrkan, he found him sitting with the Holy Man by his side; so he rejoiced and drew near him and gave him joy of his recovery. Answered he, “Verily we are all under the benediction of this Recluse nor would you have been victorious but for his prayers, indeed he felt no fear this day and he ceased not supplication for the Moslems. I found strength return to me, when I heard your ‘Allaho Akbar,’ for then I knew you to be victorious over your enemies. But now recount to me, O my brother, what befel thee.” So he told him all that had passed between him and the accursed Hardub and related how he had slain him and sent him to the malediction of Allah; and Sharrkan praised him and thanked him for his prowess. When Zat al-Dawahi heard tell of her son’s death (and she still drest as a devotee), her face waxed yellow and her eyes ran over with railing tears: she kept her counsel, however, and feigned to the Moslems that she was glad and wept for excess of joy. But she said to herself, “By the truth of the Messiah, there remaineth no profit of my life, if I burn not his heart for his brother, Sharrkan, even as he hath burned my heart for King Hardub, the mainstay of Christendom and the hosts of Crossdom!” Still she kept her secret. And the Wazir Dandan and King Zau al-Makan and the Chamberlain remained sitting with Sharrkan till they had dressed and salved his wound; after which they gave him medicines and he began to recover strength; whereat they joyed with exceeding joy and told the troops who congratulated themselves, saying, “To morrow he will ride with us and do manly devoir in the siege.” Then said Sharrkan to them, “Ye have fought through all this day and are aweary of fight; so it behoveth that you return to your places and sleep and not sit up.” They accepted his counsel and then each went away to his own pavilion, and none remained with Sharrkan but a few servants and the old woman Zat al-Dawahi. He talked with her through part of the night, then he stretched himself to rest: and his servants did likewise and presently sleep overcame them all and they lay like the dead. Such was the case with Sharrkan and his men; but as regards the old woman she alone abode awake while they slumbered in the tent and, looking at Sharrkan she presently saw that he was drowned in sleep. Thereupon she sprang to her feet, as she were a scald she bear or a speckled snake, and drew from her waist cloth a dagger so poisoned that if laid thereon it would have melted a rock. Then she unsheathed the poniard and went up to Sharrkan’s head and she drew the knife across his throat and severed his weasand and hewed off his head from his body. And once more she sprang to her feet; and, going the round of the sleeping servants, she cut off their heads also, lest they should awake. Then she left the tent and made for the Sultan’s pavilion, but finding the guards on the alert, turned to that of the Wazir Dandan. Now she found him reading the Koran and when his sight fell upon her he said, “Welcome to the Holy Man!” Hearing this from the Wazir, her heart trembled and she said, “The reason of my coming hither at this time is that I heard the voice of a saint amongst Allah’s Saints and am going to him.” Then she turned her back, but the Wazir said to himself, “By Allah, I will follow our Devotee this night!” So he rose and walked after her; but when the accursed old woman sensed his footsteps, she knew that he was following her: wherefore she feared the disgrace of discovery and said in herself, “Unless I serve some trick upon him he will disgrace me.” So she turned and said to him from afar, “Ho, thou Wazir, I am going in search of this Saint that I may learn who he is; and, after learning this much, I will ask his leave for thee to visit him. Then I will come back and tell thee: for I fear thine accompanying me, without having his permission, lest he take umbrage at me seeing thee in my society.” Now when the Wazir heard these words, he was ashamed to answer her; so he left her and returned to his tent, and would have slept; but sleep was not favourable to him and the world seemed heaped upon him. Presently he rose and went forth from the tent saying in himself, “I will go to Sharrkan and chat with him till morning.” But when he entered into Sharrkan’s pavilion, he found the blood running like an aqueduct and saw the servants lying with their throats cut like beasts for food. At this he cried a cry which aroused all who were asleep; the folk hastened to him and, seeing the blood streaming, set up a clamour of weeping and wailing. Then the noise awoke the Sultan, who enquired what was the matter, and it was said to him, “Sharrkan thy brother and his servants are murthered.” So he rose in haste and entered the tent, and found the Wazir Dandan shrieking aloud and he saw his brother’s body without a head. Thereat he swooned away and all the troops crowded around him, weeping and crying out, and so remained for a while, till he came to himself, when he looked at Sharrkan and wept with sore weeping, while the Wazir and Rustam and Bahram did the like. But the Chamberlain cried and lamented more than the rest and asked leave to absent himself, such was his alarm. Then said Zau al-Makan, “Know ye who did this deed and how is it I see not the Devotee, him who the things of this world hath put away?” Quoth the Wazir, “And who should have been the cause of this affliction, save that Devotee, that Satan? By Allah, my heart abhorred him from the first, because I know that all who pretend to be absorbed in practices religious are vile and treacherous!” And he repeated to the King the tale of how he would have followed the Religious, but he forbade him, whereupon the folk broke out into a tumult of weeping and lamentation and humbled themselves before Him who is ever near, Him who ever answereth prayer, supplicating that He would cause the false Devotee who denied Allah’s testimony to fall into their hands. Then they laid Sharrken out and buried him in the mountain aforesaid and mourned over his far-famed virtues. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that they laid Sharrkan out and buried him in the mountain aforesaid and mourned over his far-famed virtues. Then they looked for the opening of the city gate; but it opened not and no sign of men appeared to them on the walls; whereat they wondered with exceeding wonder. But King Zau al-Makan said, “By Allah, I will not turn back from them, though I sit here for years and years, till I take blood revenge for my brother Sharrkan and waste Constantinople and kill the King of the Nazarenes, even if death overcome me and I be at rest from this woeful world!” Then he bade be brought out the treasure taken from the Monastery of Matruhina; and mustered the troops and divided the monies among them, and he left not one of them but he gave him gifts which contented him. Moreover, he assembled in the presence three hundred horse of every division and said to them, “Do ye send supplies to your households, for I am resolved to abide by this city, year after year, till I have taken man bote for my brother Sharrkan, even if I die in this stead.” And when the army heard these words and had received his gifts of money they replied, “To hear is to obey!” Thereupon he summoned couriers and gave them letters and charged them to deliver the same, together with the monies, to the soldiers’ families and inform them that all were safe and satisfied, and acquaint them saying, “We are encamped before Constantinople and we will either destroy it or die; and, albeit we be obliged to abide here months and years, we will not depart hence till we take it.” Moreover, he bade the Wazir Dandan write to his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, and said to him, “Acquaint her with what hath befallen us, and what be our situation and commend my child to her care since that, when I went out to war, my wife was near her delivery and by this time she must needs have been brought to bed; and if she hath given birth to a boy, as I have heard say, hasten your return and bring me the acceptable news.” Then he gave them somewhat of money, which they pouched and set out at once; and all the people flocked forth to take leave of them and entrust them with the monies and the messages. After they had departed, Zau al-Makan turned to the Wazir Dandan and commanded him to advance with the army against the city walls. So the troops pushed forward, but found none on the ramparts, whereat they marvelled, while Zau al-Makan was troubled at the case, for he deeply mourned the severance from his brother Sharrkan and he was sore perturbed about that traitor the Ascetic. In this condition they abode three days without seeing anyone. So far concerning the Moslems; but as regards the Greeks and the cause of their refusing to fight during these three days the case was this. As soon as Zat al-Dawahi had slain Sharrkan, she hastened her march and reached the walls of Constantinople, where she called out in the Greek tongue to the guards to throw her down a rope. Quoth they, “Who art thou?”; and quoth she, “I am Zat al-Dawahi.” They knew her and let down a cord to which she tied herself and they drew her up; and, when inside the city, she went in to the King Afridun and said to him, “What is this I hear from the Moslems? They say that my son King Hardub is slain.” He answered, “Yes;” and she shrieked out and wept right grievously and ceased not weeping thus till she made Afridun and all who were present weep with her. Then she told the King how she had slain Sharrkan and thirty of his servants, whereat he rejoiced and thanked her; and, kissing her hands, exhorted her to resignation for the loss of her son. Said she, “By the truth of the Messiah, I will not rest content with killing that dog of the Moslem dogs in blood revenge for my son, a King of the Kings of the age! Now there is no help for it but that I work some guile and I contrive a wile whereby to slay the Sultan Zau al-Makan and the Wazir Dandan and the Chamberlain and Rustam and Bahram and ten thousand cavaliers of the army of Al–Islam; for it shall never be said that my son’s head be paid with the bloodwit of Sharrkan’s head; no, never!” Then said she to King Afridun, “Know, O King of the Age, that it is my wish to set forth mourning for my son and to cut my Girdle and to break the Crosses.” Replied Afridun, “Do what thou desire; I will not gainsay thee in aught. And if thou prolong thy mourning for many days it were a little thing; for though the Moslems resolve to beleaguer us years and years, they will never win their will of us nor gain aught of us save trouble and weariness.” Then the Accursed One (when she had ended with the calamity she had wrought and the ignominies which in herself she had thought) took ink case and paper and wrote thereon: “From Shawahi, Zat al-Dawahi, to the host of the Moslems. Know ye that I entered your country and duped by my cunning your nobles and at first hand I slew your King Omar bin al-Nu’uman in the midst of his palace. Moreover, I slew, in the affair of the mountain pass and of the cave, many of your men; and the last I killed were Sharrkan and his servants. And if fortune do not stay me and Satan obey me, I needs must slay me your Sultan and the Wazir Dandan, for I am she who came to you in disguise of a Recluse and who heaped upon you my devices and deceits. Wherefore, an you would be in safety after this, fare ye forth at once; and if you seek your own destruction cease not abiding for the nonce; and though ye tarry here years and years, ye shall not do your desire on us. And so peace be yours!” After writing her writ she devoted three days to mourning for King Hardub; arid, on the fourth, she called a Knight and bade him take the letter and make it fast to a shaft and shoot it into the Moslem camp. When this was done, she entered the church and gave herself up to weeping and wailing for the loss of her son, saying to him who took the kingship after him, “Nothing will serve me but I must kill Zau al-Makan and all the nobles of Al–Islam.” Such was the case with her; but as regards what occurred to the Moslems, all passed three days in trouble and anxiety, and on the fourth when gazing at the walls behold, they saw a knight holding a bow and about to shoot an arrow along whose side a letter was bound. So they waited till he had shot it among them and the Sultan bade the Wazir Dandan take the missive and read it. He perused it accordingly; and, when Zau al-Makan heard it to end and understood its purport, his eyes filled with tears and he shrieked for agony at her perfidy; and the Minister Dandan said, “By Allah, my heart shrank from her!” Quoth the Sultan, “How could this whore play her tricks upon us twice? But by the Almighty I will not depart hence till I fill her cleft with molten lead and jail her with the jailing of a bird encaged, then bind her with her own hair and crucify her over the gate of Constantinople.” And he called to mind his brother and wept with excessive weeping. But when Zat al-Dawahi arrived amongst the Infidels and related to them her adventures at length, they rejoiced at her safety and at the slaying of Sharrkan. There upon the Moslems addressed themselves again to the siege of the city and the Sultan promised his men that, if it should be taken, he would divide its treasures among them in equal parts. But he dried not his tears grieving for his brother till his body was wasted and sick, growing thin as a tooth pick. Presently the Wazir Dandan came in to him and said, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear; in very sooth thy brother died not but because his hour was come, and there is no profit in this mourning. How well saith the poet,
“Whatso is not to be no sleight shall bring to pass;
What is to be without a failure shall become;
Soon the becoming fortune shall be found to be,
And Folly’s brother1 shall abide forlorn and glum.”
Wherefore do thou leave this weeping and wailing and hearten thy heart to bear arms.” He replied, “O Wazir, my heart is heavy for the death of my father and my brother and for our absence from hearth and home; and my mind is concerned for my subjects.” Thereupon the Wazir and the bystanders wept; but they ceased not from pushing forward the siege of Constantinople for a length of days. And they being thus, behold, news arrived from Baghdad, by one of the Emirs to the effect that the King’s wife had been blessed with a boy, and that his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, had named him Kánmákán.2 Moreover, that the boy bid fair to be famous, already showing wondrous signs and marvellous tokens; and that she had commanded the Olema and the preachers to pray for mother and child from the pulpits and bless them in all wise; furthermore that the twain were well, that the land had enjoyed abundant rains, and that his comrade the Fireman was established in all prosperity, with eunuchs and slaves to wait upon him; but that he was still ignorant of what had befallen him. And she ended with the greeting of peace. Then quoth Zau al — Makan to the Wazir Dandan, “Now is my back strengthened for that I have been blest with a son whose name is Kanmakan.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when they brought him the news of his wife having borne him a boy child, Zau al — Makan rejoiced with great joy and cried, “Now is my back strengthened, for that I have been blessed with a son1 whose name is Kanmakan.” And he spake to the Wazir Dandan, saying, “I am minded to leave this mourning and order perfections of the Koran for my brother and command almsdeeds on his account.” Quoth the Wazir, “Thy design is good.” Thereupon he caused tents to be pitched over his brother’s tomb; so they raised them and gathered together such of the men at arms as could repeat the Koran; and some began reciting the Holy volume; whilst others chanted litanies containing the names of Allah, and thus they did till the morning. Then Zau al-Makan went up to the grave of his brother Sharrkan and poured forth copious tears, and improvised these couplets,
“They bore him bier’d, and all who followed wept
With Moses’ shrieks what day o’erhead shook Tor;2
Till reached the grave which Pate had made his home,
Dug in men’s souls who one sole God adore:
Ne’er had I thought before to see my joy
Borne on the bier which heads of bearers bore:
Ah no! nor ere they homed thee in the dust
That stars of heaven earth ever covered o’er.
Is the tomb dweller hostage of a stead,
Where light and splendour o’er thy face shall pour?
Praise to restore his life her word hath pledged:
Cribbed and confined he shall dispread the more!”
When Zau al-Makan had made an end of his versifying he wept and wept with him all the troops; then he came to the grave and threw himself upon it wild with woe, and the Wazir repeated the words of the poet,
“Pain leaving life that fleets thou hast th’ eternal won;
Thou didst as whilom many a doer like thee hath done
Leftest this worldly house without reproach or blame;
Ah, may th’ ex change secure thee every benison!
Thou west from hostile onset shield and firm defence,
For us to baffle shafts and whistling spears to shun.
I see this world is only cheat and vanity,
Where man naught else must seek but please the Truthful One:
Th’ Empyrean’s Lord allow thee bower of heavenly bliss,
And wi’ thy faithful friends The Guide show goodly wone:
I bid thee last good e’en with sigh of bitter grief,
Seeing the
West in woe for lack of Easting Sun.”
When the Wazir Dandan had finished his reciting, he wept with sore weeping and the tears rained from his eyes like cushioned pearls. Then came forward one who had been of Sharrkan’s boon companions in his cups and he wept till ran in rills the drops, and he enumerated the dead man’s generous qualities, reciting the following pentastichs,
“Where gone is Bounty since thy hand is turned to clay?
And I in misery lie since thou west ta’en away.
See’st not, O litter guide3 (Heaven keep thee glad and gay!),
How tears adorn my cheeks, these furrowed wrinkles fray?
A sight to joy thine eyes and fill thee with dismay.4
By Allah ne’er this heart within I spoke of thee;
Ah no! nor dared my sight to see thy brilliancy:
Save that my tear drops sorest wound have garred me dree
Yea! and if e’er on other rest these eyne of me,
May yearning draw their reins nor suffer sleep to see.”
And when the man stinted reciting, Zau al-Makan and the Minister Dandan wept and the whole army was moved to tears; after which all retired to their tents, and the King turning to the Wazir took counsel with him concerning the conduct of the campaign. On this wise the two passed days and nights, while Zau al-Makan was weighed down with grief and mourning till at last he said, “I long to hear stories and adventures of Kings and tales of lover folk enslaved by love; haply Allah may make this to solace that which is on my heart of heavy anxiety, and stint and stay my weeping and wailing.” Quoth the Wazir, “If naught can dispel thy trouble but hearing curious tales of Kings and people long gone before and stories of folk enslaved by love of yore, and so forth, this thing were easy, for I had no other business, in the lifetime of thy father (who hath found mercy) than to relate stories and to repeat verses to him. This very night I will tell thee a tale of a lover and his beloved, so shall thy breast be broadened.” When Zau al-Makan heard these words from the Minister, his heart was set upon that which had been promised to him and he did nothing but watch for the coming of the night, that he might hear what the Wazir Dandan had to tell of the Kings of yore and distracted lovers long gone before. And hardly would he believe that night had fallen ere he bade light the wax candles and the lamps and bring all that was needful of meat and drink and perfume gear, and what not; and when all was in presence, he summoned the Wazir Dandan, and the Emirs Rustam and Bahram and Tarkash and the Grand Chamberlain; then waited till the whole party was seated before him; whereupon he turned to the Minister and said, “Know, O Wazir, that night is come and hath let down over us its veil of gloom, and we desire that thou tell us those tales which thou promisedst us.” Replied the Wazir, “With joy and good will.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A son being “the lamp of a dark house.”
2 When the Israelites refused to receive the Law (the souls of all the Prophets even those unborn being present at the Covenant), Allah tore up the mountain (Sinai which is not mentioned) by the roots and shook it over their heads to terrify them, saying, “Receive the Law which we have given you with a resolution to keep it” (Koran chaps. xlx. 170). Much of this story is from the Talmud (Abodah Sar. 2, 2, Tract Sabbath, etc.) whence Al–Islam borrowed so much of its Judaism, as it took Christianity from the Apocryphal New Testament. This tradition is still held by the Israelites, says Mr. Rodwell (p. 333) who refers it to a misunderstanding of Exod. xix. 17, rightly rendered in the E. version “at the nether part of the mountain.”
3 Arab. “Azghán” = the camel-litters in which women travel.
4 i.e. to joy foes and dismay friends.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Zau Al–Makan summoned the Wazir and the Chamberlain and Rustam and Bahram, he turned towards the Minister Dandan and said, “Know, O Wazir, that night is come and hath let down over us its veil of gloom, and we desire that thou tell us those tales which thou promisedst us.” Replied the Wazir, “With love and gladness! Know, O auspicious King, that there reached my ears a relation of a lover and a loved one and of the discourse between them and what befel them of things rare and fair, a story such as repelleth care from the heart and dispelleth sorrow like unto that of the patriarch Jacob1; and it is as follows”:
1 Whose eyes became white (i.e. went blind) with mourning for his son Joseph (Koran, chaps. xii. 84). He recovered his sight when his face was covered with the shirt which Gabriel had given to the youth after his brethren had thrown him into the well.
There stood in times long gone by behind the Mountains of Ispahán, a city hight the Green City, wherein dwelt a King named Suláyman Sháh. Now he was a man of liberality and beneficence, of justice and integrity, of generosity and sincerity, to whom travellers repaired from every country, and his name was noised abroad in all regions and cities and he reigned many a year in high worship and prosperity, save that he owned neither wives nor children. He had a Minister who rivalled him in goodness and generosity and it so happened that one day, he sent for him and when he came into the presence said to him, “O my Wazir, my heart is heavy and my patience is past and my force faileth me, for that I have neither wife nor child. This is not the way of Kings who rule over all men, princes. and paupers; for they rejoice in leaving behind them children and successors whereby are doubled their number and their strength. Quoth the Prophet (whom Allah bless and keep!); ‘Marry ye, increase ye, and multiply ye, that I may boast me of your superiority over the nations on the Day of Resurrection.’ So what is thy rede, O Wazir? Advise me of what course and contrivance be advisable!” When the Minister heard these words, the tears sprang from his eyes in streams, and he replied, “Far be it from me, O King of the Age, that I debate on that which appertaineth to the Compassionate One! Wilt thou have me cast into the fire by the All powerful King’s wrath and ire? Buy thee a concubine.” Rejoined the King, “Know, O Wazir, that when a sovereign buyeth a female slave, he knoweth neither her rank nor her lineage and thus he cannot tell if she be of simple origin that he may abstain from her, or of gentle strain that he may be intimate in her companionship. So, if he have commerce with her, haply she will conceive by him and her son be a hypocrite, a man of wrath and a shedder of blood. Indeed the like of such woman may be instanced by a salt and marshy soil, which if one till for ever it yieldeth only worthless growth and no endurance show eth; for it may be that her son will be obnoxious to his Lord’s anger, doing not what He biddeth him or abstaining from what He for biddeth him. Wherefore will I never become the cause of this through the purchase of a concubine; and it is my desire that thou demand for me in marriage the daughter of some one of the Kings, whose lineage is known and whose loveliness hath renown. If thou can direct me to some maiden of birth and piety of the daughters of Moslem Sovranty, I will ask her in marriage and wed her in presence of witnesses, so may accrue to me the favour of the Lord of all Creatures.” Said the Wazir, “O King, verily Allah hath fulfilled thy wish and hath brought thee to thy desire;” presently adding, “Know, O King, it hath come to my knowledge that King Zahr Shah,1 Lord of the White Land, hath a daughter of surpassing loveliness whose charms talk and tale fail to express: she hath not her equal in this age, for she is perfect in proportion and symmetry, black eyed as if Kohl dyed and long locked, wee of waist and heavy of hip. When she draweth nigh she seduceth and when she turneth her back2 she slayeth; she ravisheth heart and view and she looketh even as saith of her the poet,
‘A thin waist maid who shames the willow wand;
Nor sun nor moon can like her rising shine:
’Tis as her honey dew of lips were blent
With wine, and pearls of teeth were bathed in wine:
Her form, like heavenly Houri’s, graceful slim;
Fair face; and ruin dealt by glancing eyne:
How many a dead done man her eyes have slain
Upon her way of love in ruin li’en:
An live I she’s my death! I’ll say no more
But dying without her vain were life of mine.’ ”
Now when the Wazir had made an end of describing that maiden, he said to Sulayman Shah, “It is my counsel, O King, that thou despatch to her father an ambassador, sagacious, experienced and trained in the ways of the world, who shall courteously demand her in marriage for thee of her sire; for in good sooth she hath not her equal in the far parts of the world nor in the near. So shalt thou enjoy her lovely face in the way of grace, and the Lord of Glory be content with thy case; for it is reported of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!) that he said, ‘There be no monkery in Al–Islam.”’ At this the King was transported to perfect joy; his breast was broadened and lightened; care and cark ceased from him and he turned to the Wazir and said, “Know thou, O Minister, that none shall fare about this affair save thou, by reason of thy consummate intelligence and good breeding; wherefore hie thee home and do all thou hast to do and get thee ready by the morrow and depart and demand me in marriage this maiden, with whom thou hast occupied my heart and thought; and return not to me but with her.” Replied the Wazir, “I hear and I obey.” Then he tried to his own house and bade make ready presents befitting Kings, of precious stones and things of price and other matters light of load but weighty of worth, besides Rabite steeds and coats of mail, such as David made3 and chests of treasure for which speech hath no measure. And the Wazir loaded the whole on camels and mules, and set out attended by an hundred slave girls with flags and banners flaunting over his head. The King charged him to return to him after a few days; and, when he was gone, Sulayman Shah lay on coals of fire, engrossed night and day with desire; while the envoy fared on without ceasing through gloom and light, spanning fertile field and desert site, till but a day’s march remained between him and the city whereto he was bound. Here he sat him down on the banks of a river and, summoning one of his confidants, bade him wend his way to King Zahr Shah and announce his approach without delay. Quoth the messenger, “I hear and I obey!” And he rode on in haste to that city and, as he was about to enter therein, it so chanced that the King, who was sitting in one of his pleasaunces before the city gate, espied him as he was passing the doors, and knowing him for a stranger, bade bring him before the presence. So the messenger coming forward informed him of the approach of the Wazir of the mighty King Sulayman Shah, Lord of the Green Land and of the Mountains of Ispahan: whereat King Zahr Shah rejoiced and welcomed him. Then he carried him to his palace and asked him, “Where leavedst thou the Wazir?”; and he answered, “I left him in early day on the banks of such a river and tomorrow he will reach thee, Allah continue his favours to thee and have mercy upon thy parents!” Thereupon King Zahr Shah commanded one of his Wazirs to take the better part of his Grandees and Chamberlains and Lieutenants and Lords of the land, and go out to meet the ambassador in honour of King Sulayman Shah; for that his dominion extended over the country. Such was the case with Zahr Shah; but as regards the Wazir he abode in his stead till night was half spent4 and then set out for the city; but when morning shone and the sun rose upon hill and down, of a sudden he saw King Zahr Shah’s Wazir approaching him, with his Chamberlains and high Lords and Chief Officers of the kingdom; and the two parties joined company at some parasangs’ distance from the city.5 Thereat the Wazir made sure of the success of his errand and saluted the escort, which ceased not preceding him till they reached the King’s palace and passed in before him through the gate to the seventh vestibule, a place where none might enter on horseback, for it was near to where the King sat. So the Minister alighted and fared on a foot till he came to a lofty saloon, at whose upper end stood a marble couch, set with pearls and stones of price, and having for legs four elephant’s tusks. Upon it was a coverlet of green satin purfled with red gold, and above it hung a canopy adorned with pearls and gems, whereon sat King Zahr Shah, whilst his officers of state stood in attendance before him. When the Wazir went in to him, he composed his mind and, unbinding his tongue, displayed the oratory of Wazirs and saluted the King in the language of eloquence. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 “Poison King” (Persian); or “Flower–King” (Arabic).
2 A delicate allusion to the size of her hips and back parts, in which volume is, I have said, greatly admired for the best of reasons.
3 All Prophets had some manual trade and that of David was making coats of mail, which he invented, for before his day men used plate-armour. So “Allah softened the iron for him” and in his hands it became like wax (Koran xxi. xxxiv., etc.). Hence a good coat of mail is called “Davidean.” I have noticed (First Footsteps, p. 33 and elsewhere) the homage paid to the blacksmith on the principle which made Mulciber (Malik Kabir) a god. The myth of David inventing mail possibly arose from his peculiarly fighting career. Moslems venerate Dáúd on account of his extraordinary devotion, nor has this view of his character ceased: a modern divine preferred him to “all characters in history.”
4 “Travel by night,” said the Prophet, “when the plagues of earth (scorpions, serpents, etc.) afflict ye not.” Yet the night- march in Arabia is detestable (Pilgrimage iii.).
5 This form of ceremony is called “Istikbál” (coming forth to greet) and is regulated by the severest laws of etiquette. As a rule the greater the distance (which may be a minimum of one step) the higher the honour. Easterns infinitely despise strangers who ignore these vitals of politeness.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir of King Sulayman Shah entered the presence of King Zahr Shah he composed his mind and, unbinding his tongue, displayed the oratory of Wazirs and saluted the King in the language of eloquence and improvised these couplets,
“He cometh robed and bending gracefully:
O’er crop and cropper dews of grace sheds he:
He charms; nor characts, spells nor gramarye
May fend the glances of those eyne from thee:
Say to the blamer, “Blame me not, for I
From love of him will never turn to flee”:
My heart hath played me false while true to him,
And Sleep, in love with him, abhorreth me:
O heart! th’art not the sole who loveth him,
So bide with him while I desertion dree:
There’s nought to joy mine ears with joyous sound
Save praise of King Zahr Shah in jubilee:
A King albeit thou leave thy life to win
One look, that look were all sufficiency:
And if a pious prayer thou breathe for him,
Shall join all Faithfuls in such pious gree:
Folk of his realm! If any shirk his right
For other hoping, gross Unfaith I see.”
When the Wazir had ended his poetry, King Zahr Shah bade him draw near and honoured him with the highmost honours; then, seating him by his own side, smiled in his face and favoured him with a gracious reply. They ceased not on this wise till the time of the under meal when the attendants brought forward the tables of food in that saloon and all ate till they were sated; after which the tables were removed and those who were in the assembly withdrew, leaving only the chief officers. Now when the Minister saw this, he rose to his feet and, after complimenting the King a second time and kissing the ground before him, spake as follows, “O mighty King and dread Lord! I have travelled hither and have visited thee upon a matter which shall bring thee peace, profit and prosperity: and it is this, that I come as ambassador to thee, seeking in marriage thy daughter, the noble and illustrious maid, from Sulayman Shah, a Prince famed for justice and integrity, sincerity and generosity, Lord of the Green Land and of the Mountains of Ispahan, who sendeth thee of presents a store, and gifts of price galore, ardently desiring to become thy son in law. But art thou inclined to him as he to thee?” He then kept silence, awaiting a reply. When King Zahr Shah heard these words, he sprang to his feet and kissed the ground respectfully before the Wazir, while the bystanders were confounded at his condescension to the ambassador and their minds were amazed. Then he praised Him who is the Lord of Honour and Glory and replied (and he still standing), “O mighty Wazir and illustrious Chief; hear thou what I say! Of a truth we are to King Sulayman Shah of the number of his subjects, and we shall be ennobled by his alliance and we covet it ardently; for my daughter is a handmaid of his handmaidens, and it is my dearest desire that he may become my stay and my reliable support.” Then he summoned the Kazis and the witnesses, who should bear testimony that King Sulayman Shah had despatched his Wazir as proxy to conclude the marriage, and that King Zahr Shah joyfully acted and officiated for his daughter. So the Kazis concluded the wedding contract and offered up prayers for the happiness and prosperity of the wedded feres; after which the Wazir arose and, fetching the gifts and rarities and precious things, laid them all before the King. Then Zahr Shah occupied himself anent the fitting out of his daughter and honourably entertained the Wazir and feasted his subjects all, great and small; and for two months they held high festival, omitting naught that could rejoice heart and eye. Now when all things needful for the bride were ready, the King caused the tents to be carried out and they pitched the camp within sight of the city, where they packed the bride’s stuffs in chests and get ready the Greek handmaids and Turkish slave girls, and provided the Princess with great store of precious treasures and costly jewels. Then he had made for her a litter of red gold, inlaid with pearls and stones of price, and set apart two mules to carry it; a litter which was like one of the chambers of a palace, and within which she seemed as she were of the loveliest Houris and it became as one of the pavilions of Paradise. And after they had made bales of the treasures and monies, and had loaded them upon the mules and camels, King Zahr Shah went forth with her for a distance of three parasangs; after which he bade farewell to her and the Wazir and those with him, and returned to his home in gladness and safety. Thereupon the Wazir, faring with the King’s daughter, pushed on and ceased not his stages over desert ways — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir fared on with the King’s daughter and ceased not forcing his stages over desert ways and hastened his best through nights and days, till there remained between him and his city but three marches. Thereupon he sent forward to King Sulayman Shah one who should announce the coming of the bride. The King rejoiced thereat and bestowed on the messenger a dress of honour; and bade his troops march forth in grand procession to meet the Princess and her company for due worship and honour, and don their richest apparel with banners flying over their heads. And his orders were obeyed. He also commanded to cry throughout the city that neither curtained damsel nor honoured lady nor time-ruptured crone should fail to fare forth and meet the bride. So they all went out to greet her and the grandest of them vied in doing her service and they agreed to bring her to the King’s palace by night. More over, the chief officers decided to decorate the road and to stand in espalier of double line, whilst the bride should pass by preceded by her eunuchs and serving women and clad in the gear her father had given her. So when she made her appearance, the troops surrounded her, these of the right wing and those of the left, and the litter ceased not advancing with her till she approached the palace; nor remained any but came forth to gaze upon the Princess. Drums were beaten and spears were brandished and horns blared and flags fluttered and steeds pranced for precedence and scents shed fragrance till they reached the Palace gate and the pages entered with the litter through the Harim wicket. The place shone with its splendours and the walls glittered for the glamour of its gear. Now when night came, the eunuchs threw open the doors of the bridal chamber and stood surrounding the chief entrance whereupon the bride came forward and amid her damsels she was like the moon among stars or an union shining on a string of lesser pearls, and she passed into the bridal closet where they had set for her a couch of alabaster inlaid with unions and jewels. As soon as she had taken seat there, the King came in to her and Allah filled his heart with her love so he abated her maidenhead and ceased from him his trouble and disquiet. He abode with her well nigh a month but she had conceived by him the first night; and, when the month was ended, he went forth and sat on his sofa of state, and dispensed justice to his subjects, till the months of her pregnancy were accomplished. On the last day of the ninth month, towards day break, the Queen was seized with the pangs of labour; so she sat down on the stool of delivery and Allah made the travail easy to her and she gave birth to a boy child, on whom appeared auspicious signs. When the King heard of this, he joyed with exceeding joy and rewarded the bearer of the good tidings with much treasure; and of his gladness he went in to the child and kissed him between the eyes and wondered at his brilliant loveliness; for in him was approved the saying of the poet,
“In the towering forts Allah throned him King,
A lion, a star in the skies of reign:
At his rising the spear and the throne rejoiced,
The gazelle, the ostrich, The men of main:1
Mount him not on the paps, for right soon he’ll show
That to throne on the war steed’s loins he’s fain:
And wean him from sucking of milk, for soon
A sweeter drink, the foe’s blood, he’ll drain.”
Then the midwives took the newborn child and cut the navel cord and darkened his eyelids with Kohl powder2 and named him Táj al-Mulúk Khárán.3 He was suckled at the breast of fond indulgence and was reared in the lap of happy fortune; and thus his days ceased not running and the years passing by till he reached the age of seven. Thereupon Sulayman Shah summoned the doctors and learned men and bade them teach his son writing and science and belle-lettres. This they continued to do for some years, till he had learnt what was needful; and, when the King saw that he was well grounded in whatso he desired, he took him out of the teachers’ and professors’ hands and engaged for him a skilful master, who taught him cavalarice and knightly exercises till the boy attained the age of fourteen; and when he fared abroad on any occasion, all who saw him were ravished by his beauty and made him the subject of verse; and even pious men were seduced by his brilliant loveliness. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, That when Taj al-Muluk Kharan, son of Sulayman Shah, became perfect in riding craft and excelled all those of his time, his excessive beauty, when he fared abroad on any occasion, caused all who saw him to be ravished and to make him the subject of verse; and even pious men were seduced by his brilliant loveliness. Quoth the poet of him,
“I clipt his form and wax’d drunk with his scent,
Fair branch to whom Zephyr gave nutriment:
Nor drunken as one who drinks wine, but drunk
With night draught his lips of the honey dew lent:
All beauty is shown in the all of him,
Hence all human hearts he in hand hath hens:
My mind, by Allah! shall ne’er unmind
His love, while I wear life’s chains till spent:
If I live, in his love I’ll live; if I die
For pine and longing, ‘O blest!’ I’ll cry
When he reached the eighteenth year of his age, tender down1 sprouted, on his side face fresh with youth, from a mole upon one rosy cheek and a second beauty spot, like a grain of ambergris adorned the other; and he won the wits and eyes of every wight who looked on him, even as saith the poet,
“He is Caliph of Beauty in Yúsufs lieu,
And all lovers fear when they sight his grace:
Pause and gaze with me; on his cheek thou’lt sight
The Caliphate’s banner of sable hue.”2
And as saith another,
“Thy sight hath never seen a fairer sight,
Of all things men can in the world espy,
Than yon brown mole, that studs his bonny cheek
Of rosy red beneath that jet black eye.”
And as saith another,
“I marvel seeing yon mole that serves his cheeks’ bright flame
Yet burneth not in fire albeit Infidel3
I wonder eke to see that apostolic glance,
Miracle working, though it work by magic spell:
How fresh and bright the down that decks his cheek, and yet
Bursten gall bladders feed which e’en as waters well.”
And as saith another,
“I marvel hearing people questioning of
The Fount of Life and in what land ’tis found:
I see it sprung from lips of dainty fawn,
Sweet rosy mouth with green mustachio down’d:
And wondrous wonder ’tis when Moses viewed
That Fount, he rested not from weary round.”4
Now having developed such beauty, when he came to man’s estate his loveliness increased, and it won for him many comrades and intimates; while every one who drew near to him wished that Taj al-Muluk Kharan might become Sultan after his father’s death, and that he himself might be one of his Emirs. Then took he passionately to chasing and hunting which he would hardly leave for a single hour. His father, King Sulayman Shah, would have forbidden him the pursuit fearing for him the perils of the waste and the wild beasts; but he paid no heed to his warning voice. And it so chanced that once upon a time he said to his attendants “Take ye ten days food and forage;” and, when they obeyed his bidding, he set out with his suite for sport and disport. They rode on into the desert and ceased not riding four days, till they came to a place where the ground was green, and they saw in it wild beasts grazing and trees with ripe fruit growing and springs flowing. Quoth Taj al-Muluk to his followers, “Set up the nets here and peg them in a wide ring and let our trysting place be at the mouth of the fence, in such a spot.” So they obeyed his words and staked out a wide circle with toils; and there gathered together a mighty matter of all kinds of wild beasts and gazelles, which cried out for fear of the men and threw themselves for fright in the face of the horses. Then they loosed on to them the hounds and lynxes5 and hawks; 6 and they shot the quarry down with shafts which pierced their vitals; and, by the time they came to the further end of the net ring, they had taken a great number of the wild beasts, and the rest fled. Then Taj al-Muluk dismounted by the water side and bade the game be brought before himself, and divided it, after he had set apart the best of the beasts for his father, King Sulayman Shah, and despatched the game to him; and some he distributed among the officers of his court. He passed the night in that place, and when morning dawned there came up a caravan of merchants conveying negro slaves and white servants, and halted by the water and the green ground. When Taj al-Muluk saw them, he said to one of his companions, “Bring me news of yonder men and question them why they have halted in this place.”7 So the messenger went up to them and addressed them, “Tell me who ye be, and answer me an answer without delay.” Replied they, “We are merchants and have halted to rest, for that the next station is distant and we abide here because we have confidence in King Sulayman Shah and his son, Taj al-Muluk, and we know that all who alight in his dominions are in peace and safety; more over we have with us precious stuffs which we have brought for the Prince.” So the messenger returned and told these news to the King’s son who, hearing the state of the case and what the merchants had replied, said, “If they have brought stuff on my account I will not enter the city nor depart hence till I see it shown to me.” Then he mounted horse and rode to the caravan and his Mamelukes followed him till he reached it. Thereupon the merchants rose to receive him and invoked on him Divine aid and favour with continuance of glory and virtues; after which they pitched him a pavilion of red satin, embroidered with pearls and jewels, wherein they spread him a kingly divan upon a silken carpet worked at the upper end with emeralds set in gold. There Taj al-Muluk seated himself whilst his white servants stood in attendance upon him, and sent to bid the merchants bring out all that they had with them. Accordingly, they produced their merchandise, and displayed the whole and he viewed it and took of it what liked him, paying them the price. Then he looked about him at the caravan, and remounted and was about to ride onwards, when his glance fell on a handsome youth in fair attire, and a comely and shapely make, with flower white brow and moon like face, save that his beauty was wasted and that yellow hues had overspread his cheeks by reason of parting from those he loved; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane (i. 531) translates “the grey down.” The Arabs use “Akhzar” (prop. “green”) in many senses, fresh, gray-hued, etc.
2 Allusion to the well-known black banners of the house of Abbas. The Persians describe the growth of hair on a fair young face by, “His cheeks went into mourning for the loss of their charms.”
3 Arab. “Káfir” a Koranic word meaning Infidel, the active participle of Kufr= Infidelity i.e. rejecting the mission of Mohammed. It is insulting and in Turkish has been degraded to “Giaour.” Here it means black, as Hafiz of Shiraz terms a cheek mole “Hindu” i.e. dark-skinned and idolatrous.
4 Alluding to the travel of Moses (Koran chaps. xviii.) with Al–Khizr (the “evergreen Prophet”) who had drunk of the Fountain of Life and enjoyed flourishing and continual youth. Moses is represented as the external and superficial religionist; the man of outsight; Al–Khizr as the spiritual and illuminated man of insight.
5 The lynx was used like the lion in Ancient Egypt and the Chita-leopard in India: I have never seen or heard of it in these days.
6 Arab. “Sukúr,” whence our “Saker” the falcon, not to be confounded with the old Falco Sacer, the Gr.. Falconry which, like all arts, began in Egypt, is an extensive subject throughout Moslem lands. I must refer my readers to “Falconry in the Valley of the Indus” (Van Voorst, 1852) and a long note in Pilgrimage iii. 71.
7 It was not respectful to pitch their camp within dog-bark.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Taj Al- Muluk, when he looked about him at the caravan, saw a handsome youth in neat attire and of shapely make, with flower like forehead and moon like face, save that his beauty was wasted and yellow hues had overspread his cheeks by reason of parting from those he loved; and great was his groaning and moaning, and the tears streamed from his eyelids as he repeated these couplets,
“Longsome is Absence; Care and Fear are sore,
And ceaseless tears, O friend, mine eyes outpour:
Yea, I farewelled my heart on parting day
And heartless, hopeless, now I bide forlore:
Pause, O my friend, with me farewelling one
Whose words my cure can work, my health restore!”
Now when the youth ended his poetry he wept awhile and fell down in a fainting fit, whilst Taj al-Muluk looked at him and wondered at his case. Then, coming to himself, he stared with distracted air, and versified in these couplets,
“Beware her glance I rede thee, ’tis like wizard wight,
None can escape unscathed those eye shafts’ glancing flight:
In very sooth black eyes, with languorous sleepy look,
Pierce deeper than white swords however these may bite.
Be not thy senses by her sweets of speech beguiled,
Whose brooding fever shall ferment in thought and sprite:
Soft sided Fair1 did silk but press upon her skin,
‘Twould draw red blood from it, as thou thyself canst sight.
Chary is she of charms twixt neck and anklets dwell,
And ah! what other scent shall cause me such delight?2”
Then he sobbed a loud sob and swooned away. But when Taj al- Muluk saw him in this case, he was perplexed about his state and went up to him; and, as the youth came to his senses and saw the King’s son standing at his head, he sprang to his feet and kissed the ground between his hands. Taj al-Muluk asked him, ‘Why didst thou not show us thy merchandise?” end he answered, O my lord, there is naught among my stock worthy of thine august highness.” Quoth the Prince, “Needs must thou show me what thou hast and acquaint me with thy circumstance; for I see thee weeping eyed and heavyhearted. If thou have been oppressed, we will end thine oppression, and if thou be in debt, we will pay thy debt; for of a truth my heart burneth to see thee, since I first set eyes on thee.”3 Then Taj al-Muluk bade the seats be set, and they brought him a chair of ivory and ebony with a net work of gold and silk, and spread him a silken rug for his feet. So he sat down on the chair and bidding the youth seat himself on the rug said to him, “Show me thy stock in trade!” The young merchant replied, “O my Lord, do not name this to me, for my goods be unworthy of thee.” Rejoined Taj al-Muluk “It needs must be thus!”; and bade some of the pages fetch the goods. So they brought them in despite of him; and, when he saw them, the tears streamed from his eyes and he wept and sighed and lamented: sobs rose in his throat and he repeated these couplets,
“By what thine eyelids show of Kohl and coquetry!
By what thy shape displays of lissome symmetry!
By what thy liplets store of honey dew and wine!
By what thy mind adorns of gracious kindly gree!
To me thy sight dream-visioned, O my hope! exceeds
The happiest escape from horriblest injury.”
Then the youth opened his bales and displayed his merchandise to Taj Al–Muluk in detail, piece by piece, and amongst them he brought out a gown of satin brocaded with gold, worth two thousand dinars. When he opened the gown there fell a piece of linen from its folds. As soon as the young merchant saw this he caught up the piece of linen in haste and hid it under his thigh; and his reason wandered, and he began versifying,
“When shall be healed of thee this heart that ever bides in woe?
Than thee the Pleiad-stars more chance of happy meeting show
Parting and banishment and longing pain and lowe of love,
Procrastinating4 and delay these ills my life lay low:
Nor union bids me live in joy, nor parting kills by grief,
Nor travel draws me nearer thee nor nearer comest thou:
Of thee no justice may be had, in thee dwells naught of rush,
Nor gain of grace by side of thee, nor flight from thee I know:
For love of thee all goings forth and comings back are strait
On me, and I am puzzled sore to know where I shall go.”
Taj al-Muluk wondered with great wonder at his verse, and could not comprehend the cause. But when the youth snatched up the bit of linen and placed it under thigh, he asked him, “What is that piece of linen?” “O my Lord,” answered the merchant, “thou hast no concern with this piece.” Quoth the King’s son, “Show it me;” and quoth the merchant, “O my lord, I refused to show thee my goods on account of this piece of linen; for I cannot let thee look upon it.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 Easterns attach great importance to softness and smoothness of skin and they are right: a harsh rough epidermis spoils sport with the handsomest woman.
2 Canticles vii. 8: Hosea xiv. 6.
3 The mesmeric attraction of like to like.
4 Arab. “Taswif”=saying “Sauf,” I will do it soon. It is a beautiful word-etymologically.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant said to Taj al-Muluk, “I did not refuse to show thee my goods save on this account, for I cannot let thee look upon it.” Whereupon Taj al Muluk retorted, “Perforce I must and will see it;” and insisted and became angry. So the youth drew it out from under his thigh, and wept and moaned and redoubled his sighs and groans, and repeated these verses,
“Now blame him not; for blame brings only irk and pain!
Indeed,
I spake him sooth but ne’er his ear could gain:
May Allah guard my moon which riseth in the vale
Beside our camp, from loosed robe like skyey plain:1
I left him but had Love vouchsafed to leave for me
Some peace in life such leave of him I ne’er had ta’en:
How long he pleaded for my sake on parting morn,
While down his cheeks and mine tears ran in railing rain:
Allah belie me not: the garb of mine excuse
This parting rent, but I will Mend that garb again!
No couch is easy to my side, nor on such wise
Aught easeth him, when all alone without me lain:
Time with ill omened hand hath wrought between us two,
And made my waxing joys to wane and his to wane,
And poured mere grief and woe, what time Time fain had crowned
The bowl he made me drink and gave for him to drain.”
When he ended his recitation, quoth Taj al-Muluk, “I see thy conduct without consequence; tell me then why weepest thou at the sight of this rag!” When the young merchant heard speak of the piece of linen, he sighed and answered, “O my lord, my story is a strange and my case out of range, with regard to this piece of linen and to her from whom I brought it and to her who wrought on it these figures and emblems.” Hereupon, he spread out the piece of linen, and behold, thereon was the figure of a gazelle wrought in silk and worked with red gold, and facing it was another gazelle traced in silver with a neck ring of red gold and three bugles2 of chrysolite upon the ring. When Taj al-Muluk saw the beauty of these figures, he exclaimed, “Glory be to Allah who teacheth man that which he knoweth not!”3 And his heart yearned to hear the youth’s story; so he said to him, “Tell me thy story with her who owned these gazelles.” Replied the young man: “Hear, O my Lord, the
My father was a wealthy merchant and Allah had vouchsafed him no other child than myself; but I had a cousin, Azízah hight, daughter of my paternal uncle and we twain were brought up in one house; for her father was dead and before his death, he had agreed with my father that I should marry her. So when I reached man’s estate and she reached womanhood, they did not separate her from me or me from her, till at last my father spoke to my mother and said, “This very year we will draw up the contract of marriage between Aziz and Azizah.” So having agreed upon this he betook himself to preparing provision for the wedding feast. Still we ceased not to sleep on the same carpet knowing naught of the case, albeit she was more thoughtful, more intelligent and quicker witted than I. Now when my father had made an end of his preparations, and naught remained for him but to write out the contract and for me but to consummate the marriage with my cousin, he appointed the wedding for a certain Friday, after public prayers; and, going round to his intimates among the mer chants and others, he acquainted them with that, whilst my mother went forth and invited her women friends and summoned her kith and kin. When the Friday came, they cleaned the saloon and prepared for the guests and washed the marble floor; then they spread tapestry about our house and set out thereon what was needful, after they had hung its walls with cloth of gold. Now the folk had agreed to come to us after the Friday prayers; so my father went out and bade them make sweetmeats and sugared dishes, and there remained nothing to do but to draw up the contract. Then my mother sent me to the bath and sent after me a suit of new clothes of the richest; and, when I came out of the Hammam, I donned those habits which were so perfumed that as I went along, there exhaled from them a delicious fragrance scenting the wayside. I had designed to repair to the Cathedral mosque when I bethought me of one of my friends and returned in quest of him that he might be present at the writing of the contract; and quoth I to myself, “This matter will occupy me till near the time of congregational prayer.” So I went on and entered a by street which I had never before entered, perspiring profusely from the effects of the bath and the new clothes on my body; and the sweat streamed down whilst the scents of my dress were wafted abroad: I therefore sat me at the upper end of the street resting on a stone bench, after spreading under me an embroidered kerchief I had with me. The heat oppressed me more and more, making my forehead perspire and the drops trickled along my cheeks; but I could not wipe my face with my kerchief because it was dispread under me. I was about to take the skirt of my robe and wipe my cheeks with it, when unexpectedly there fell on me from above a white kerchief, softer to the touch than the morning breeze and pleasanter to the sight than healing to the diseased. I hent it in hand and raised my head to see whence it had fallen, when my eyes met the eyes of the lady who owned these gazelles. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say
1 Both words (masc. and fem.) mean “dear, excellent, highly-prized.” The tale is the Arab form of the European “Patient Griselda” and shows a higher conception of womanly devotion, because Azizah, despite her wearisome weeping, is a girl of high intelligence and Aziz is a vicious zany, weak as water and wilful as wind. The phenomenon (not rare in life) is explained by the couplet:—
I love my love with an S—
Because he is stupid and not intellectual.
This fond affection of clever women for fools can be explained only by the law of unlikeness which mostly governs sexual unions in physical matters; and its appearance in the story gives novelty and point. Aziz can plead only the violence of his passion which distinguished him as a lover among the mob of men who cannot love anything beyond themselves. And none can pity him for losing a member which he so much abused.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth continued to Taj al-Muluk: “So I raised my head to see whence this kerchief had fallen, when my eyes met those of the lady who owned these gazelles. And lo! she was looking out of a wicket in a lattice of brass and never saw my eyes a fairer than she, and in fine my tongue faileth to describe her beauty. When she caught sight of me looking at her, she put her forefinger into her mouth, then joined her middle finger and her witness finger1 and laid them on her bosom, between her breasts; after which she drew in her head and closed the wicket shutter and went her ways. There upon fire broke out in and was heaped upon my heart, and greater grew my smart; the one sight cost me a thousand sighs and I abode perplexed, for that I heard no word by her spoken, nor understood the meaning of her token. I looked at the window a second time, but found it shut and waited patiently till sundown, but sensed no sound and saw no one in view. So when I despaired of seeing her again, I rose from my place and taking up the handkerchief, opened it, when there breathed from it a scent of musk which caused me so great delight I became as one in Paradise.2 Then I spread it before me and out dropped from it a delicate little scroll; whereupon I opened the paper which was perfumed with a delicious perfume, and therein were writ these couplets,
“I sent to him a scroll that bore my plaint of love,
Writ in fine delicate hand; for writing proves man’s skill:
Then quoth to me my friend, ‘Why is thy writing thus;
So fine, so thin drawn ’tis to read unsuitable?’
Quoth I, ‘for that I’m fine-drawn wasted, waxed thin,
Thus lovers’ writ Should be, for so Love wills his will.
And after casting my eyes on the beauty of the kerchief,3 I saw upon one of its two borders the following couplets worked in with the needle,
“His cheek down writeth (O fair fall the goodly scribe!)
Two lines on table of his face in Rayhán-hand:4
O the wild marvel of the Moon when comes he forth!
And when he bends, O shame to every Willow wand!”
And on the opposite border these two couplets were traced,
“His cheek down writeth on his cheek with ambergris on pearl
Two lines, like jet on apple li’en, the goodliest design:
Slaughter is in those languid eyne whene’er a glance they deal,
And drunkenness in either cheek and not in any wine.”
When I read the poetry on the handkerchief the flames of love darted into my heart, and yearning and pining redoubled their smart. So I took the kerchief and the scroll and went home, knowing no means to win my wish, for that I was incapable of conducting love affairs and inexperienced in interpreting hints and tokens. Nor did I reach my home ere the night was far spent and I found the daughter of my uncle sitting in tears. But as soon as she saw me she wiped away the drops and came up to me, and took off my walking dress and asked me the reason of my absence, saying, “All the folk, Emirs and notables and merchants and others, assembled in our house; and the Kazi and the witnesses were also present at the appointed time. They ate and tarried awhile sitting to await thine appearance for the writing of the contract; and, when they despaired of thy presence, they dispersed and went their ways. And indeed,” she added, “thy father raged with exceeding wrath by reason of this, and swore that he would not celebrate our marriage save during the coming year, for that he hath spent on these festivities great store of money.” And she ended by asking, “What hath befallen thee this day to make thee delay till now?; and why hast thou allowed that to happen which happened because of thine absence?” Answered I, “O daughter of mine uncle, question me not concerning what hath befallen me.”5 Then I told her all that had passed from beginning to end, and showed her the handkerchief. She took the scroll and read what was written therein; and tears ran down her cheeks and she repeated these cinquains,
“Who saith that Love at first of free will came,
Say him: Thou liest! Love be grief and grame:
Yet shall such grame and grief entail no shame;
All annals teach us one thing and the same
Good current coin clips coin we may not crepe!
An please thou, say there’s pleasure in thy pain,
Find
Fortune’s playful gambols glad and fain:
Or happy blessings in th’ unhappy’s bane,
That joy or grieve, with equal might and main:
Twixt phrase and antiphrase I’m all a heap!
But he, withal, whose days are summer bright,
Whom maids e’er greet with smiling lips’ delight;
Whom spicey breezes fan in every site
And wins whate’er he wills, that happy wight
White blooded coward heart should never keep!”
Then she asked me, “What said she, and what signs made she to thee?” I answered, “She uttered not a word, but put her fore finger in her mouth, then joining it to her middle finger, laid both fingers on her bosom and pointed to the ground. Thereupon she withdrew her head and shut the wicket; and after that I saw her no more. However, she took my heart with her, so I sat till sun down, expecting her again to look out of the window; but she did it not; and, when I despaired of her, I rose from my seat and came home. This is my history and I beg thee to help me in this my sore calamity.” Upon this she raised her face to me and said, “O son of mine uncle, if thou soughtest my eye, I would tear it for thee from its eyelids, and perforce I cannot but aid thee to thy desire and aid her also to her desire; for she is whelmed in passion for thee even as thou for her.” Asked I, “And what is the interpretation of her signs?”; and Azizah answered, “As for the putting her finger in her mouth,6 it showed that thou art to her as her soul to her body and that she would bite into union with thee with her wisdom teeth. As for the kerchief, it betokeneth that her breath of life is bound up in thee. As for the placing her two fingers on her bosom between her breasts, its explanation is that she saith; ‘The sight of thee may dispel my grief.’ For know, O my cousin, that she loveth thee and she trusteth in thee. This is my interpretation of her signs and, could I come and go at Will, I would bring thee and her together in shortest time, and curtain you both with my skirt.” Hearing these words I thanked her (continued the young merchant) for speaking thus, and said to myself, “I will wait two days.” So I abode two days in the house, neither going out nor coming in; neither eating nor drinking but I laid my head on my cousin’s lap, whilst she comforted me and said to me, “Be resolute and of good heart and hope for the best!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 Arab. “Sháhid,” the index, the pointer raised in testimony: the comparison of the Eastern and the Western names is curious.
2 Musk is one of the perfumes of the Moslem Heaven; and “musky” is much used in verse to signify scented and dark-brown.
3 Arab. “Mandíl”: these kerchiefs are mostly oblong, the shore sides being worked with gold and coloured silk, and often fringed, while the two others are plain.
4 Arab. “Rayhání,” of the Ocymum Basilicum or sweet basil: a delicate handwriting, so called from the pen resembling a leaf (?) See vol. i. p. 128. [Volume 1, note 229 & 230]
5 All idiom meaning “something unusual happened.”
6 An action common in grief and regret: here the lady would show that she sighs for union with her beloved.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth pursued to Taj al-Muluk:—“And when the two days were past she said to me, “Be of good cheer and clear thine eyes of tears and take courage to dress thyself and go to her, according to thy tryst.” Then she rose and changed my clothes and perfumed me with incense smoke. So I braced myself up and heartened my heart and went out and walked on till I came to the by-street, where I sat down on the bench awhile. And behold, the wicket suddenly opened and I looked up and seeing her, fell down in a swoon. When I revived, I called up resolution and took courage and gazed again at her and again became insensible to the world around me. Then I came to myself and looking at her, saw that she held in hand a mirror and a red kerchief. Now when she caught my glance, she bared her forearms and opened her five fingers and smote her breast with palm and digits; and after this she raised her hands and, holding the mirror outside the wicket, she took the red kerchief and retired into the room with it, but presently returned and putting out her hand with the kerchief, let it down towards the lane three several times, dipping it and raising it as often. Then she wrung it out and folded it in her hands, bending down her head the while; after which she drew it in from the lattice and, shutting the wicket shutter, went away without a single word; nay, she left me confounded and knowing not what signified her signs.1. I tarried sitting there till supper time and did not return home till near midnight; and there I found the daughter of my uncle with her cheek props in her hand and her eyelids pouring forth tears; and she was repeating these couplets,
“Woe’s me! why should the blamer gar thee blaming bow?
How be consoled for thee that art so tender bough?
Bright being! on my vitals cost thou prey, and drive
My heart before platonic passion’s2 force to bow.
Thy Turk like3 glances havoc deal in core of me,
As furbished sword thin ground at curve could never show:
Thou weigh’s” me down with weight of care, while I have not
Strength e’en to bear my shift, so weakness lays me low:
Indeed I weep blood tears to hear the blamer say;
‘The lashes of thy lover’s eyne shall pierce thee through!’
Thou hast, my prince of loveliness! an Overseer,4
Who wrongs me, and a Groom5 who beats me down with brow.
He foully lies who says all loveliness belonged
To Joseph, in thy loveliness is many a Joe:
I force myself to turn from thee, in deadly fright
Of spies; and what the force that turns away my sight!”
When I heard her verse, cark increased and care redoubled on me and I fell down in a corner of our house; whereupon she arose in haste and, coming to me lifted me up and took off my outer clothes and wiped my face with her sleeve. Then she asked me what had befallen me, and I described all that had happened from her. Quoth she, “O my cousin, as for her sign to thee with her palm and five fingers its interpretation is, Return after five days; and the putting forth of her head out of the window, and her gestures with the mirror and the letting down and raising up and wringing out of the red kerchief,6 signify, Sit in the dyer’s shop till my messenger come to thee.” When I heard her words fire flamed up in my heart and I exclaimed, “O daughter of my uncle, thou sayest sooth in this thine interpretation; for I saw in the street the shop of a Jew dyer.” Then I wept, and she said, “Be of good cheer and strong heart: of a truth others are occupied with love for years and endure with constancy the ardour of passion, whilst thou hast but a week to wait; why then this impatience?” Thereupon she went on cheering me with comfortable talk and brought me food: so I took a mouthful and tried to eat but could not; and I abstained from meat and drink and estranged myself from the solace of sleep, till my colour waxed yellow and I lost my good looks; for I had never been in love before nor had I ever savoured the ardour of passion save this time. So I fell sick and my cousin also sickened on my account; but she would relate to me, by way of consolation, stories of love and lovers every night till I fell asleep; and when ever I awoke, I found her wakeful for my sake with tears running down her cheeks. This ceased not till the five days were past, when my cousin rose and warmed some water and bathed me with it. Then she dressed me in my best and said to me, “Repair to her and Allah fulfil thy wish and bring thee to thy desire of thy beloved!” So I went out and ceased not walking on till I came to the upper end of the by street. As it was the Sabbath7 I found the dyer’s shop locked and sat before it, till I heard the call to mid afternoon prayer. Then the sun yellowed and the Mu’ezzins8 chanted the call to sundown prayer and the night came; but I saw no sign nor heard one word, nor knew any news of her. So I feared for my life sitting there alone; and at last I arose and walked home reeling like a drunken man. When I reached the house, I found my cousin Azizah standing, with one hand grasping a peg driven into the wall and the other on her breast; and she was sighing and groaning and repeating these couplets,
“The longing of an Arab lass forlorn of kith and kin
(Who to
Hijazian willow wand and myrtle9 cloth incline,
And who, when meeting caravan, shall with love-lowe set light
To bivouac fire, and bang for conk her tears of pain and pine)
Exceeds not mine for him nor more devotion shows, but he
Seeing my heart is wholly his spurns love as sin indign.”
Now when she had finished her verse she turned to me and, seeing me, wiped away her tears and my tears with her sleeve. Then she smiled in my face and said, “O my cousin, Allah grant thee enjoyment of that which He hath given thee! Why didst thou not pass the night by the side of thy beloved and why hast thou not fulfilled thy desire of her?” When I heard her words, I gave her a kick in the breast and she fell down in the saloon and her brow struck upon the edge of the raised pavement and hit against a wooden peg therein. I looked at her and saw that her forehead was cut open and the blood running — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (i. 608) has a valuable note on the language of signs, from M. du Vigneau’s “Secretaire Turc,” etc. (Paris, 1688), Baron von Hammer–Purgstall (“Mines de [‘Orient,” No. 1, Vienna, 1809) and Marcel’s “Comes du Cheykh El–Mohdy” (Paris, 1833). It is practiced in Africa as well as in Asia. At Abeokuta in Yoruba a man will send a symbolical letter in the shape of cowries, palm-nuts and other kernels strung on rice — straw, and sharp wits readily interpret the meaning. A specimen is given in p. 262 of Miss Tucker’s “Abbeokuta; or Sunrise within the Tropics.”
2 Mr. Payne (ii. 227) translates “Hawá al-‘Urzí” by “the love of the Beni Udhra, an Arabian tribe famous for the passion and devotion with which love was practiced among them.” See Night dclxxxiii. I understand it as “excusable love” which, for want of a better term, is here translated “platonic.” It is, however, more like the old “bundling” of Wales and Northern England; and allows all the pleasures but one, the toyings which the French call les plaisirs de la petite ode; a term my dear old friend Fred. Hankey derived from la petite voie. The Afghans know it as “Námzad-bází” or betrothed play (Pilgrimage, ii. 56); the Abyssinians as eye-love; and the Kafirs as Slambuka a Shlabonka, for which see The traveller Delegorgue.
3 “Turk” in Arabic and Persian poetry means a plunderer, a robber. Thus Hafiz: “Agar án Turk-i-Shirázi ba-dast árad dil-i-márá,” If that Shirazi (ah, the Turk!) would deign to take my heart in hand, etc.
4 Arab. “Názir,” a steward or an eye (a “looker”). The idea is borrowed from Al–Hariri (Assemblies, xiii.), and —
5 Arab. “Hájib,” a groom of the chambers, a chamberlain; also an eyebrow. See Al–Hariri, ibid. xiii. and xxii.
6 This gesture speaks for itself: it is that of a dyer staining a cloth. The “Sabbágh’s” shop is the usual small recess, open to the street and showing pans of various dyes sunk like “dog-laps” in the floor.
7 The Arab. “Sabt” (from sabata, he kept Sabt) and the Heb. “Sabbath” both mean Saturn’s day, Saturday, transferred by some unknown process throughout Christendom to Sunday. The change is one of the most curious in the history of religions. If there be a single command stronger than all others it is “Keep the Saturday holy.” It was so kept by the Founder of Christianity; the order was never abrogated and yet most Christians are not aware that Sabbath, or “Sawbath,” means Saturn’s day, the “Shiyár” of the older Arabs. And to complete its degradation “Sabbat” in French and German means a criaillerie, a “row,” a disorder, an abominable festival of Hexen (witches). This monstrous absurdity can be explained only by aberrations of sectarian zeal, of party spirit in religion.
8 The men who cry to prayer. The first was Bilál, the Abyssinian slave bought and manumitted by Abu Bakr. His simple cry was “I testify there is no Iláh (god) but Allah (God)! Come ye to prayers!” Caliph Omar, with the Prophet’s permission, added, “I testify that Mohammed is the Apostle of Allah.” The prayer-cry which is beautiful and human, contrasting pleasantly with the brazen clang of the bell. now is
Allah is Almighty (bis).
I declare no god is there but Allah (bis).
Hie ye to Rogation (Hayya=halumma).
Hie ye to Salvation (Faláh=prosperity, Paradise).
(“Hie ye to Edification,” a Shi’ah adjunct).
Prayer is better than sleep (in the morning, also bis).
No god is there but Allah
This prayer call is similarly worded and differently pronounced and intoned throughout Al–Islam.
9 i.e. a graceful youth of Al–Hijaz, the Moslem Holy Land, whose “sons” claim especial privileges.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued to Taj al-Muluk: “Now when I kicked the daughter of my uncle in the breast she fell on the edge of the raised pavement in the saloon and her brow struck upon a wooden peg. Thereby her forehead was cut open and the blood ran down, but she was silent and did not utter a single sound.1 Presently she rose up, and made some tinder of rags, then staunching with it the bleeding wound, bound her forehead with a bandage; after which she wiped up the blood that had fallen on the carpet, and it was as if nothing had been. Presently she came up to me and smiling in my face, said with gentle voice, “By Allah, O son of my uncle, I spake not these words to mock at thee or at her! But I was troubled with an ache in my head and was minded to be blooded, but now thou hast eased my head and lightened my brow; so tell me what hath befallen thee to day.” Thereupon I told her all that had passed between me and her that day; and she wept as she heard my words and said, “O son of my uncle, rejoice at the good tidings of thy desire being fulfilled and thine aim being attained. Of a truth this is a sign of acceptance; for that she stayed away only because she wisheth to try thee and know if thou be patient or not, and sincere in thy love for her or otherwise. Tomorrow, repair to her at the old place and see what sign she maketh to thee; for indeed thy gladness is near and the end of thy sadness is at hand.” And she went on to comfort me; but my cark and care ceased not to increase on me. Presently she brought me food which I kicked away with my foot so that the contents of every saucer were scattered in all directions, and I said, “Every lover is a madman; he inclineth not to food neither enjoyeth he sleep.” And my cousin Azizah rejoined, “By Allah, O son of my uncle, these be in very deed the signs of love!” And the tears streamed down her cheeks whenas she gathered the fragments of the saucers and wiped up the food; then she took seat and talked to me, whilst I prayed Allah to hasten the dawn. At last, when morning arose with its sheen and shine, I went out to seek her and hastening to her by street sat down on that bench, when lo! the wicket opened and she put out her head laughing. Then she disappeared within and returned with a mirror, a bag; and a pot full of green plants and she held in hand a lamp. The first thing she did was to take the mirror and, putting it into the bag, tie it up and throw it back into the room; then she let down her hair over her face and set the lamp on the pot of flowers during the twinkling of an eye; then she took up all the things and went away shutting the window without saying a word. My heart was riven by this state of the case, and by her secret signals, her mysterious secrets and her utter silence; and thereby my longing waxed more violent and my passion and distraction redoubled on me. So I retraced my steps, tearful-eyed and heavy hearted, and returned home, where I found the daughter of my uncle sitting with her face to the wall; for her heart was burning with grief and galling jealousy; albeit her affection forbade her to acquaint me with what she suffered of passion and pining when she saw the excess of my longing and distraction. Then I looked at her and saw on her head two bandages, one on account of the accident to her forehead and the other over her eye in consequence of the pain she endured for stress of weeping; and she was in miserable plight shedding tears and repeating these couplets,
“I number nights; indeed I count night after night;
Yet lived I long ere learnt so sore accompt to see, ah!
Dear friend, I compass not what Allah pleased to doom
For Laylá, nor what Allah destined for me, ah!
To other giving her and unto me her love,
What loss but Layla’s loss would He I ever dree, ah!”
And when she had finished her reciting, she looked towards me and seeing me through her tears, wiped them away and came up to me hastily, but could not speak for excess of love. So she remained silent for some while and then said, “O my cousin, tell me what befel thee with her this time.” I told her all that had passed and she said, “Be patient, for the time of thy union is come and thou hast attained the object of thy hopes. As for her signal to thee with the mirror which she put in the bag, it said to thee, When the sun is set; and the letting down of her hair over her face signified, When night is near and letteth fall the blackness of the dark and hath starkened the daylight, come hither. As for her gesture with the pot of green plants it meant, When thou comest, enter the flower garden which is behind the street; and as for her sign with the lamp it denoted, When thou enterest the flower garden walk down it and make for the place where thou seest the lamp shining; and seat thyself beneath it and await me; for the love of thee is killing me.” When I heard these words from my cousin, I cried out from excess of passion and said, “How long wilt thou promise me and I go to her, but get not my will nor find any true sense in thine interpreting.” Upon this she laughed and replied, “It remaineth for thee but to have patience during the rest of this day till the light darken and the night starker and thou shalt enjoy union and accomplish thy hopes; and indeed all my words be without leasing.” Then she repeated these two couplets,
“Let days their folds and plies deploy,
And shun the house that deals annoy!
Full oft when joy seems farthest far
Thou nighmost art to hour of joy.”’
Then she drew near to me and began to comfort me with soothing speech, but dared not bring me aught of food, fearing lest I be angry with her and hoping I might incline to her; so when coming to me she only took off my upper garment and said to me, “Sit O my cousin, that I may divert thee with talk till the end of the day and, Almighty Allah willing, as soon as it is night thou shalt be with thy beloved.” But I paid no heed to her and ceased not looking for the approach of darkness, saying, “O Lord, hasten the coming of the night!” And when night set in, the daughter of my uncle wept with sore weeping and gave me a crumb of pure musk, and said to me, “O my cousin, put this crumb in thy mouth, and when thou hast won union with thy beloved and hast taken thy will of her and she hath granted thee thy desire, repeat to her this couplet,
‘Ho, lovers all! by Allah say me sooth
What shall he do when love sore vexeth youth?’”2
And she kissed me and swore me not to repeat this couplet till I should be about to leave my lover and I said, “Hearing is obeying!” And when it was supper-tide I went out and ceased not walking on till I came to the flower garden whose door I found open. So I entered and, seeing a light in the distance, made towards it and reaching it, came to a great pavilion vaulted over with a dome of ivory and ebony, and the lamp hung from the midst of the dome. The floor was spread with silken carpets embroidered in gold and silver, and under the lamp stood a great candle, burning in a candelabrum of gold. In mid pavilion was a fountain adorned with all manner of figures;3 and by its side stood a table covered with a silken napkin, and on its edge a great porcelain bottle full of wine, with a cup of crystal inlaid with gold. Near all these was a large tray of silver covered over, and when I uncovered it I found therein fruits of every kind, figs and pomegranates, grapes and oranges, citrons and shaddocks4 disposed amongst an infinite variety of sweet scented flowers, such as rose, jasmine, myrtle, eglantine, narcissus and all sorts of sweet smelling herbs. I was charmed with the place and I joyed with exceeding joy, albeit I found not there a living soul and my grief and anxiety ceased from me. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “harf’= a letter, as we should say a syllable.
2 She uses the masculine “fatá,” in order to make the question more mysterious.
3 The fountain-bowl is often ornamented by a rude mosaic of black and white marble with enlivenments of red stone or tile in complicated patterns.
4 Arab. “Kubád” = shaddock (citrus decumana): the huge orange which Captain Shaddock brought from the West Indies; it is the Anglo–Indian pompelmoose, vulg. pummelo. An excellent bitter is made out of the rind steeped in spirits. Citronworts came from India whence they spread throughout the tropics: they were first introduced into Europe by the heroic Joam de Castro and planted in his garden at Cintra where their descendants are still seen.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued to Taj al-Muluk: “I was charmed with the place and joyed with great joy albeit there I found not a living soul of Almighty Allah’s creatures, and saw nor slave nor hand maid to oversee these things or to watch and ward these properties. So I sat down in the pavilion to await the coming of the beloved of my heart; but the first hour of the night passed by, and the second hour, and the third hour, and still she came not. Then hunger grew sore upon me, for that it was long since I had tasted food by reason of the violence of my love: but when I found the place even as my cousin had told me, and saw the truth of her in terpretation of my beloved’s signs, my mind was set at rest and I felt the pangs of hunger; moreover, the odour of the viands on the table excited me to eat. So making sure of attaining my desire, and being famished for food I went up to the table and raised the cover and found in the middle a china dish containing four chickens reddened with roasting and seasoned with spices, round the which were four saucers, one containing sweetmeats, another conserve of pomegranate seeds, a third almond pastry1 and a fourth honey fritters; and the contents of these saucers were part sweet and part sour. So I ate of the fritters and a piece of meat, then went on to the almond cakes and ate what I could; after which I fell upon the sweetmeats, whereof I swallowed a spoonful or two or three or four, ending with part of a chicken and a mouthful of something beside. Upon this my stomach became full and my joints loose and I waxed too drowsy to keep awake; so I laid my head on a cushion, after having washed my hands, and sleep over came me; I knew not what happened to me after this, and I awoke not till the sun’s heat scorched me, for that I had never once tasted sleep for days past. When I awoke I found on my stomach a piece of salt and a bit of charcoal; so I stood up and shook my clothes and turned to look right and left, but could see no one; and discovered that I had been sleeping on the marble pavement without bedding beneath me. I was perplexed thereat and afflicted with great affliction; the tears ran down my cheeks and I mourned for myself. Then I returned home, and when I entered, I found my cousin beating her hand on her bosom and weeping tears like rain shedding clouds; and she versified with these couplets,
“Blows from my lover’s land a Zephyr cooly sweet,
And with its every breath makes olden love new glow:
O Zephyr of the morning hour, come show to us
Each lover hath his lot, his share of joy and woe:
Could I but win one dearest wish, we had embraced
With what embrace and clip of breast fond lovers know.
Allah forbids, while bides unseen my cousin’s face,
All joys the World can give or hand of Time bestow.
Would Heaven I knew his heart were like this heart of me,
Melted by passion-flame and charged with longing owe.”
When she saw me, she rose in haste and wiped away her tears and addressed me with her soft speech, saying, “O son of my uncle, verily Allah hath been gracious to thee in thy love, for that she whom thou lovest loveth thee, whilst I pass my time in weeping and bewailing my severance from thee who blamest me and chidest me; but may Allah not punish thee for my sake!” Thereupon she smiled in my face a smile of reproach and caressed me; then taking off my walking clothes, she spread them out and said, “By Allah, this is not the scent of one who hath enjoyed his lover! So tell me what hath befallen thee, O my cousin.” I told her all that had passed, and she smiled again a smile of reproach and said, “Verily, my heart is full of pain; but may he not live who would hurt thy heart! Indeed, this woman maketh herself inordinately dear and difficult to thee, and by Allah, O son of my uncle, I fear for thee from her.2 Know, O my cousin, that the meaning of the salt is thou west drowned in sleep like insipid food, disgustful to the taste; and it is as though she said to thee; ‘It behoveth thou be salted lest the stomach eject thee; for thou professes to be of the lovers noble and true; but sleep is unlawful and to a lover undue; therefore is thy love but a lie.’ However, it is her love for thee that lieth; for she saw thee asleep yet aroused thee not and were her love for thee true, she had indeed awoken thee. As for the charcoal, it means ‘Allah blacken thy face’3 for thou makest a lying presence of love, whereas thou art naught but a child and hast no object in life other than eating and drinking and sleeping! such is the interpretation of her signs, and may Allah Almighty deliver thee from her!” When I heard my cousin’s words, I beat my hand upon my breast and cried out, “By Allah, this is the very truth, for I slept and lovers sleep not! Indeed I have sinned against myself, for what could have wrought me more hurt than eating and sleeping? Now what shall I do?” Then I wept sore and said to the daughter of my uncle, “Tell me how to act and have pity on me, so may Allah have pity on thee: else I shall die.” As my cousin loved me with very great love — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Bakláwah,” Turk. “Baklává,” a kind of pastry with blanched almonds bruised small between layers of dough, baked in the oven and cut into lozenges. It is still common
2 Her just fear was that the young woman might prove “too clever by half” for her simpleton cousin.
3 The curse is pregnant with meaning. On Judgment-day the righteous shall arise with their faces shining gloriously: hence the blessing, “Bayyaz’ Allaho wajh-ak” (=Allah whiten thy countenance!). But the wicked shall appear with faces scorched black and deformed by horror (Koran xxiv.): hence “God blacken thy brow!” I may observe that Easterns curse, the curse being everywhere the language of excited destructiveness; but only Westerns, and these chiefly English, swear, a practice utterly meaningless. “Damn it” without specifying what the “it” is, sounds like the speech of a naughty child anxious only to use a “wicked word.” “Damn you!” is intelligible all the world over. It has given rise to “les goddams” in France, “Godámes” in the Brazil and “Gotáma” amongst the Somal of Eastern Africa, who learn it in Aden,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued his tale to Taj al-Muluk: “Thereupon quoth I to the daughter of my uncle, “Tell me what to do and have pity on me, so may Allah have pity on thee!” As the daughter of my uncle loved me with great love, she replied, “On my head and eyes! But, O my cousin, I repeat what I have told thee oftentimes, if I could go in and out at will, I would at once bring you two together and cover you both with my skirt: nor would I do this but hoping to win thy favour. Inshallah, I will do my utmost endeavour to unite you; but hear my words and do my bidding. Go thou to the very same place and sit down where thou sattest before and at supper tide look thou eat not, for eating induceth sleep; and have a care-thou slumber not, for she will not come to thee till a fourth part of the night be passed. And the Almighty avert her mischief from thee!” Now when I heard these words I rejoiced and besought Allah to hasten the night; and, as soon as it was dark, I was minded to go, and my cousin said to me, “When thou shalt have met her, repeat to her the couplet I taught thee before, at the time of thy leave taking.” Replied I, “On my head and eyes!” and went out and repaired to the garden, where I found all made ready in the same state as on the previous night, with every requisite of meat and drink, dried fruits, sweet scented flowers and so forth. I went up into the pavilion and smelt the odour of the viands and my spirit lusted after them; but I possessed my soul in patience for a while, till at last I could no longer withstand temptation. So I arose from my seat and went up to the table and, raising its cover, found a dish of fowls, surrounded by four saucers containing four several meats. I ate a mouthful of each kind and as much as I would of the sweetmeats and a piece of meat: then I drank from the saucer a sauce yellowed with saffron1 and as it pleased me, I supped it up by the spoonful till I was satisfied and my stomach was full. Upon this, my eyelids drooped; so I took a cushion and set it under my head, saying, “Haply I can recline upon it without going to sleep.” Then I closed my eyes and slept, nor did I wake till the sun had risen, when I found on my stomach a cube of bone,2 a single tip-cat stick, 3 the stone of a green date4 and a carob pod. There was no furniture nor aught else in the place, and it was as if there had been nothing there yesterday. So I rose and shaking all these things off me, fared forth in fury; and, going home, found my cousin groaning and versifying with these couplets,
“A wasted body, heart enpierced to core,
And tears that down my poor cheeks pour and pour:
And lover cure of access; but, but still
Naught save what’s fair can come from fairest flow’r:
O cousin mine thou fill’st my soul with pate,
And from these tears mine eyelids ache full sore!”
I chid the daughter of my uncle and abused her, whereat she wept; then, wiping away her tears, she came up to me and kissed me and began pressing me to her bosom, whilst I held back from her blaming myself. Then said she to me, “O my cousin, it seemeth thou sleptest again this night?” Replied I, “Yes; and when I awoke, I found on my stomach a cube of bone, a single tip-cat stick, a stone of a green date and a carob pod, and I know not why she did this.” Then I wept and went up to her and said, “Expound to me her meaning in so doing and tell me how shall I act and aid me in my sore strait.” She answered, “On my head and eyes! By the single tip cat stick and the cube of bone which she placed upon thy stomach she saith to thee ‘Thy body is present but thy heart is absent’; and she meaneth, ‘Love is not thus: so do not reckon thyself among lovers.’ As for the date stone, it is as if she said to thee, ‘An thou wert in love thy heart would be burning with passion and thou wouldst not taste the delight of sleep; for the sweet of love is like a green date5 which kindleth a coal of fire in the vitals.’ As for the carob pod6 it signifieth to thee, ‘The lover’s heart is wearied’; and thereby she saith, ‘Be patient under our separation with the patience of Job.’ “ When I heard this interpretation, fires darted into my vitals like a dart and grief redoubled upon my heart and I cried out, saying, “Allah decreed sleep to me for my ill fortune.” Then I said to her, “O my cousin, by my life, devise me some device whereby I may win my will of her!” She wept and answered, “O Aziz, O son of my uncle, verily my heart is full of sad thought which I cannot speak: but go thou again to night to the same place and beware thou sleep not, and thou shalt surely attain thy desire. This is my counsel and peace be with thee!” Quoth I, “If Allah please I will not sleep, but will do as thou biddest me.” Then my cousin rose, and brought me food, saying, “Eat now what may suffice thee, that nothing may divert thy heart.” So I ate my fill and, when night came, my cousin rose and bringing me a sumptuous suit of clothes clad me therein. Then she made me swear I would repeat to my lover the verse aforesaid and bade me beware of sleeping. So I left her and repaired to the garden and went up into that same pavilion where I occupied myself in holding my eyelids open with my fingers and nodding my head as the night darkened on me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zardah,” usually rice dressed with saffron and honey, from Pers. “Zard,” saffron, yellow. See Night dcxii.
2 Vulgarly called “knuckle-bone,” concerning which I shall have something to say.
3 A bit of wood used in the children’s game called “Táb” which resembles our tip-cat (Lane M. E. chaps. xvii.).
4 Arab. “Balah,” the unripened date, which is considered a laxative and eaten in hot weather.
5 Lane (i. 611), quoting Al–Kazwíní, notes that the date-stone is called “Nawá” (dim. “Nawáyah”) which also means distance, absence, severance. Thus the lady threatens to cast off her greedy and sleepy lover.
6 The pad of the carob-bean which changes little after being plucked is an emblem of constancy.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued to Taj al Muluk: “So I repaired to the garden and went up into that same pavilion and occupied myself in gazing upon the flower beds and in holding my eyelids open with my fingers and nodding my head as the night darkened on me. And presently I grew hungry with watching and the smell of the meats being wafted towards me, my appetite increased: so I went up to the table and took off the cover and ate a mouthful of every dish and a bit of meat; after which I turned to the flagon of wine, saying to myself, I will drink one cup. I drank it, and then I drank a second and a third, till I had drunk full ten, when the cool air smote me and I fell to the earth like a felled man. I ceased not to lie thus till day arose, when I awoke and found myself out side the garden, and on my stomach were a butcher’s knife and a dram-weight of iron.1 Thereat I trembled and, taking them with me, went home, where I found my cousin saying, “Verily, I am in this house wretched and sorrowful, having no helper but weeping.” Now when I entered, I fell down at full length and throwing the knife and the dram weight from my hand, I fainted clean away. As soon as I came to myself, I told her what had befallen me and said, Indeed, I shall never enjoy my desire.” But when she saw my tears and my passion, they redoubled her distress on my account, and she cried, “Verily, I am helpless! I warned thee against sleeping; but thou wouldst not hearken to my warning, nor did my words profit thee aught.” I rejoined, “By Allah, I conjure thee to explain to me the meaning of the knife and the iron dram-weight.” “By the dram weight,” replied my cousin, “she alludeth to her right eye,2 and she sweareth by it and saith, ‘By the Lord of all creatures and by my right eye! if thou come here again and sleep, I will cut thy throat with this very knife.’ And indeed I fear for thee, O my cousin, from her malice; my heart is full of anguish for thee and I cannot speak. Nevertheless, if thou can be sure of thyself not to sleep when thou returnest to her, return to her and beware of sleeping and thou shalt attain thy desire; but if when returning to her thou wilt sleep, as is thy wont, she will surely slaughter thee.” Asked I, “What shall I do, O daughter of my uncle: I beg thee, by Allah, to help me in this my calamity.” Answered she, “On my head and eyes! if thou wilt hearken to my words and do my bidding, thou shalt have thy will.” Quoth I, “I will indeed hearken to thy words and do thy bidding;” and quoth she, “When it is time for thee to go, I will tell thee.” Then she pressed me to her bosom and laying me on the bed, shampoo’d my feet, till drowsiness overcame me and I was drowned in sleep, then she took a fan and seated herself at my head with the fan in her hand and she was weeping till her clothes were wet with tears. Now when she saw that I was awake, she wiped away the drops and fetched me some food and set it before me. I refused it, but she said to me, “Did I not tell thee that thou must do my bidding? Eat!” So I ate and thwarted her not and she proceeded to put the food into my mouth and I to masticate it, till I was full. Then she made me drink jujube sherbet3 and sugar and washed my hands and dried them with a kerchief; after which she sprinkled me with rose water, and I sat with her awhile in the best of spirits. When the darkness had closed in, she dressed me and said to me, “O son of my uncle, watch through the whole night and sleep not; for she will not come to thee this tide till the last of the dark hours and, Allah willing, thou shalt be at one with her this night; but forget not my charge.” Then, she wept, and my heart was pained for her by reason of her over much weeping, and I asked, “What is the charge thou gayest me?” She answered, “When thou takest leave of her repeat to her the verse before mentioned.” So, full of joy I left her and repairing to the garden, went up into the pavilion where, being satiated with food, I sat down and watched till a fourth part of the dark hours was past. That night seemed longsome to me as it were a year: but I remained awake till it was three quarters spent and the cocks crew and I was famished for long watching. Accordingly I went up to the table and ate my fill, whereupon my head grew heavy and I wanted to sleep, when behold, a light appeared making towards me from afar. I sprang up and washed my hands and mouth and roused myself; and before long she came with ten damsels, in whose midst she was like the full moon among the stars. She was clad in a dress of green satin purfled with red gold, and she was as saith the poet,
“She lords it o’er our hearts in grass green gown,
With buttons4 loose and locks long flowing down.
Quoth I, ‘What is thy name?’ Quoth she, ‘I’m she,
Who burns the lover-heart live coals upon:’
I made my plaint to her of loving lowe;
Laughed she, ‘To stone thou moanest useless moan!’
Quoth I, ‘An be of hardest stone thy heart,
Allah drew sweetest spring from hardest stone.’ ”
When she saw me she laughed and said, “How is it that thou art awake and that sleep overcame thee not? Forasmuch as thou hast watched through the night, I know that thou art a lover; for night watching is the mark of lovers displaying brave endurance of their desires.” Then she turned to her women and signed to them and they went away from her, whereupon she came up to me and strained me to her breast and kissed me, whilst I kissed her, and she sucked my upper lip whilst I sucked her lower lip. I put my hand to her waist and pressed it and we came not to the ground save at the same moment. Then she undid her petticoat trousers which slipped down to her anklets, and we fell to clasping and embracing and toying and speaking softly and biting and inter twining of legs and going round about the Holy House and the corners thereof,5 till her joints became relaxed for love delight and she swooned away. I entered the sanctuary, and indeed that night was a joy to the sprite and a solace to the sight even as saith the poet,
“Sweetest of nights the world can show to me, that night
When cups went round and round as fed by ceaseless spring:
There utter severance made I ‘twixt mine eyes and sleep,
And joined, re joined mine ear drop with the anklet ring.”6
We lay together in close embrace till the morning when I would have gone away, but she stopped me and said, “Stay till I tell thee something”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This dirham=48 grains avoir.
2 The weight would be round: also “Hadíd” (=iron) means sharp or piercing (Koran chaps. Vii. 21). The double “swear” is intended to be very serious. Moreover iron conjures away fiends: when a water-spout or a sand-devil (called Shaytán also in Arabia) approaches, you point the index at the Jinn and say, “Iron, O thou ill-omened one!” Amongst the Ancient Egyptians the metal was ill-omened being the bones of Typhon, 80 here, possibly, we have an instance of early homœopathy — similia similibus.
3 Probably fermented to a kind of wine. The insipid fruit (Unnáb) which looks like an apple in miniature, is much used in stews, etc. It is the fruit (Nabak classically Nabik) of Rhamnus Nabeca (or Sidrat) also termed Zizyphus Jujuba, seu Spina Christi because fabled to have formed the crown of thorns: in the English market this plum is called Chinese Japonica. I have described it in Pilgrimage ii. 205, and have noticed the infusion of the leaves for washing the dead (ibid. ii. 105): this is especially the use of the “Ber” in India, where the leaves are superstitiously held peculiarly pure. Our dictionaries translate “Sidr” by “Lote-tree”; and no wonder that believers in Homeric writ feel their bile aroused by so poor a realisation of the glorious myth. The Homerids probably alluded to Hashish or Bhang.
4 Arab. “Azrár”: the open collar of the Saub (“Tobe”) or long loose dress is symptomatic. The Eastern button is on the same principle as ours (both having taken the place of the classical fibula); but the Moslem affects a loop (like those to which we attach our “frogs”) and utterly ignores a button-hole.
5 Alluding to the ceremonious circumambulation of the Holy House at Meccah: a notable irreverence worthy of Kneph-town (Canopus).
6 The ear-drop is the penis and the anklet its crown of glory.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued his recital to Taj al Muluk: “When I would have gone away, she stopped me and said, “Stay, till I tell thee something and charge thee with a charge.” So I stayed whilst she unfolded a kerchief and drew out this piece of linen and spread it open before me. I found worked on it these two figures of gazelles and admired it with great admiration. Then I took the piece of linen and went away, joyful, after we had agreed that I should visit her every night in the garden; but in my joy I forgot to repeat to her the verse my cousin had taught me. For when giving me the piece of linen with the gazelles she had said to me, “Keep this carefully, as it is my sister’s handiwork.” I asked her, “What is thy sister’s name?”; and she answered, “Her name is Núr al-Hudá.” When I went to my cousin, I found her lying down; but as soon as she saw me, she rose, with the tears running from her eyes, and came up to me, and kissed me on the breast and said, “Didst thou do as I enjoined thee? and repeat the verse to her?” “I forgot it,” replied I; “and nothing drove it out of my mind but these two figured gazelles.” And I threw the piece of linen on the floor before her. She rose and sat down again, but was unable to contain herself for impatience, and her eyes ran over with tears, whilst she repeated these two couplets,
“O thou who seekest parting, softly fare!
Let not the Pair delude with cunning art:
Pare softly, Fortune’s nature is to ‘guile,
And end of every meeting is to part.”
And when she ended her recitation she said, “O my cousin, give me this piece of linen.” So I gave it to her and she took it and unfolding it, saw what was therein. When the tryst time came for my going to my lover, the daughter of my uncle said to me, “Go, and peace attend thee; and when thou art about to leave her, recite to her the verse I taught thee long ago and which thou didst forget.” Quoth I, “Tell it me again”; and she repeated it. Then I went to the garden and entered the pavilion, where I found the young lad, awaiting me. When she saw me, she rose and kissed me and made me sit in her lap; and we ate and drank and did our desire as before. In the morning, I repeated to her my cousin’s verse which was this,
“Ho, lovers all! by Allah say me sooth
What shall he do when
Love sor’ vexeth youth?”
When she heard this, her eyes filled with tears and she answered and said,
“Strive he to cure his case, to hide the truth,
Patiently humble self and sue for rush!”
I committed it to memory and returned home rejoicing at having done my cousin’s bidding. When I entered the house I found her lying down and my mother at her head weeping over her case; but as soon as I went in to her my mother said to me, “A foul plague on such a cousin! How couldst thou leave the daughter of thy uncle ailing and not ask what ailed her?” But when my cousin saw me she raised her head and sat up and asked me, “O Aziz, didst thou repeat to her the couplet I taught thee?” I answered, “Yes, and when she heard it she wept and recited in answer another couplet which I committed to memory.” Quoth my cousin, “Tell it me.” I did so; and when she heard it she wept with much weeping and repeated the following verses,
‘How shall youth cure the care his life undo’th,
And every day his heart in pieces hew’th?
In sooth he would be patient, but he findeth
Naught save a heart which love with pains imbu’th.”
Then added my cousin, “When thou goest to her as of wont, repeat to her also these two couplets which thou hast heard.” I replied, “Hearkening and obedience!” and I went at the wonted time, to the garden, where there passed between my mistress and myself what tongue faileth to describe. When I was about to leave her, I repeated to her those two couplets of my cousin’s; whereupon the tears streamed from her eyes and she replied,
“If he of patience fail the truth to hide
For him no cure save
Death my vision view’th!”
I committed them to memory and returned home, and when I went in to my cousin I found her fallen into a fit and my mother sitting at her head. When she heard my voice, she opened her eyes and asked, “O Aziz! didst thou repeat the two couplets to her?” whereto I answered, “Yes; but she wept on hearing them and she replied with this couplet beginning, If he of patience fail, to the end.” And I repeated it; whereupon my cousin swooned again, and when she came to herself, she recited these two couplets,
“Hearkening, obeying, with my dying mouth
I greet who joy of union ne’er allow’th:
Pair fall all happy loves, and fair befal
The hapless lover dying in his drowth!”
Again when it was night, I repaired to the garden as usual where I found the young lady awaiting me. We sat down and ate and drank, after which we did all we wanted and slept till the morning; and, as I was going away, I repeated to her the saying of my cousin. When she heard the couplet she cried out with a loud cry and was greatly moved and exclaimed, “Awáh! Awáh!1 By Allah, she who spake these lines is dead!” Then she wept and said to me, “Woe to thee! How is she who spoke thus related to thee?” Replied I, “She is the daughter of my father’s brother.” “Thou liest,” rejoined she; “by Allah, were she thy cousin, thou hadst borne her the same love as she bore thee! It is thou who hast slain her and may the Almighty kill thee as thou killedst her! By Allah, hadst thou told me thou hadst a cousin, I would not have admitted thee to my favours!” Quoth I, “Verily it was she who interpreted to me the signs thou madest and it was she who taught me how to come to thee and how I should deal with thee; and, but for her, I should never have been united to thee.” She then asked me, “Did thy cousin then know of us?”; and I answered, “Yes;” whereupon she exclaimed, “Allah give thee sorrow of thy youth, even as thou hast sorrowed her youth!” Then she cried to me, “Go now and see after her.” So I went away troubled at heart, and ceased not walking till I reached our street, when I heard sounds of wailing, and asking about it, was answered, “Azizah, we found her dead behind the door.” I entered the house, and when my mother saw me, she said, “Her death lieth heavy on thy neck and may Allah not acquit thee of her blood!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Equivalent to our “Alas! Alas!” which, by the by, no one ever says. “Awah,” like “Yauh,” is now a woman’s word although used by Al–Hariri (Assembly of Basrah) and so Al-awwáh=one who cries from grief “Awáh.” A favourite conversational form is “Yehh” with the aspirate exasperated, but it is an expression of astonishment rather than sorrow. It enters into Europe travel-books.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued to Taj al-Muluk: “So I entered the house and when my mother saw me she said, “Her death lieth heavy on thy neck and may Allah not acquit thee of her blood! A plague on such a cousin!” Then came my father, and we laid her out and get ready her bier and buried her; and we had recitations of the whole Koran over her tomb and we abode by her grave three days, after which we returned to our home, and I grieving for her grievously. Then my mother came to me and said, “I would fain know what thou didst to her, to break her heart1 for, O my son, I questioned her at all times of the cause of her complaint, but she would tell me nothing nor let me know aught of it. So Allah upon thee, tell me what thou hast been doing to her that she died.” Quoth I, “I did nothing.” Quoth my mother, “Allah avenge her on thee! Verily she told me naught, but kept her secret till she died of her love longings for thee; but when she died I was with her and she opened her eyes and said to me; ‘O wife of my uncle may Allah hold thy son guiltless of my blood and punish him not for what he hath done by me! And now Allah transporteth me from the house of the world which is perishable to the house of the other world which is eternal.’ Said I, ‘O my daughter, Allah preserve thee and preserve thy youth!’ And as I questioned her of the cause of her illness, she made me no answer; but she smiled and said, ‘O wife of my uncle, bid thy son, whenever he would go whither he goeth every day, repeat these two saws at his going away; ‘Faith is fair! Unfaith is foul!’ For this is of my tender affection to him, that I am solicitous concerning him during my lifetime and after my death.’ Then she gave me somewhat for thee and sware me that I would not give it until I see thee weeping for her and lamenting her death. The thing is with me; and, when I have seen thy case as I have said, I will make it over to thee.” “Show it me,” cried I: but she would not. Then I gave myself up to love delights and thought no more of my cousin’s death: for my mind was unsettled and fain would I have been with my lover the livelong day and night.2 So hardly had I perceived the darkness fall when I betook myself to the garden, where I found the young lady sitting on coals of fire for much impatience. As soon as she was sure that she saw me, she ran to me and throwing her arms about my neck, enquired of the daughter of my uncle. I replied, “Sooth to say she is dead, and we have caused Zikr — litanies and recitations of the Koran to be performed for her; and it is now four nights and this be the fifth since she is gone.” When she heard that, she shrieked aloud and wept and said, “Did I not tell thee that thou hast slain her? Hadst thou let me know of her before her death, I would have requited her the kindness she did me, in that she served me and united thee to me; for without her, we had never foregathered, we twain, and I fear lest some calamity befal thee because of thy sin against her.” Quoth I, “She acquitted me of offence ere she died;” and I repeated to her what my mother had told me. Quoth she, “Allah upon thee! when thou returnest to thy mother, learn what thing she keepeth for thee.” I rejoined, “My mother also said to me; ‘Before the daughter of thy uncle died, she laid a charge upon me, saying, Whenever thy son would go whither he is wont to go, teach him these two saws, ‘Faith is fair; Unfaith is foul!’ “ When my lady heard this she exclaimed, “The mercy of Almighty Allah be upon her! Indeed, she hath delivered thee from me, for I minded to do thee a mischief, but now I will not harm thee nor trouble thee.” I wondered at this and asked her, “What then west thou minded to do with me in time past and we two being in bond of love?” Answered she, “Thou art infatuated with me; for thou art young in life and a raw laddie; thy heart is void of guile and thou weetest not our malice and deceit. Were she yet alive, she would protect thee; for she is the cause of thy preservation and she hath delivered thee from destruction. And now I charge thee speak not with any woman, neither accost one of our sex, be she young or be she old; and again I say Beware! for thou art simple and raw and knowest not the wiles of women and their malice, and she who interpreted the signs to thee is dead. And indeed I fear for thee, lest thou fall into some disgrace and find none to deliver thee from it, now that the daughter of thy uncle is no more.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued to Taj al-Muluk: “Then the young lady said to me, “I fear for thee lest thou fall into some disgrace and find none to deliver thee from it. Alas for thy cousin and ah, the pity of her! Would I had known her before her death, that I might have requited by waiting upon her the fair service she did me. The mercy of Allah Almighty be upon her, for she kept her secret and revealed not what she suffered, and but for her thou hadst never foregathered with me; no, never! But there is one thing I desire of thee.” I asked, “What is it?”; and she answered, “It is that thou bring me to her grave, that I may visit her in the tomb wherein she is and write some couplets thereon.” I rejoined, “To morrow, if Allah please!”1 I slept with her that night, and she ceased not saying after every hour, “Would thou hadst told me of thy cousin before her death!” And I asked her, “What is the meaning of the two saws she taught me? ‘Faith is fair! Unfaith is foul!’” But she made no answer. As soon as it was day she rose and, taking a purse of gold pieces, said to me, “Come, show me her tomb, that I may visit it and grave some verses thereon and build a dome over it and commend her to Allah’s mercy and bestow these diners in alms for her soul.” I replied, “To hear is to obey!”; and walked on before her, whilst she followed me, giving alms as she went and saying to all upon whom she lavisht bounty, “This is an alms for the soul of Azizah, who kept her counsel till she drank the cup of death and never told the secret of her love.” And she stinted not thus to give alms and say, “for Azizah’s soul,” till the purse was empty and we came to the grave. And when she looked at the tomb, she wept and threw herself on it; then, pulling out a chisel of steel and a light hammer, she graved therewith upon the head stone in fine small characters these couplets,
“I past by a broken tomb amid a garth right sheen,
Whereon seven blooms of Nu’uman2 glowed with cramoisie;
Quoth I, ‘Who sleepeth in this tomb?’ Quoth answering Earth
‘Before a lover Hades-tombed3 bend reverently!’
Quoth I, ‘May Allah help thee, O thou slain of Love,
And grant thee home in Heaven and Paradise height to see!’
Hapless are lovers all e’en tombed in their tombs,
Where amid living folk the dust weighs heavily!
Pain would I plant a garden blooming round thy grave,
And water every flower with tear drops flowing free!”
Then she turned away in tears and I with her and returned to the garden where she said to me, “By Allah! I conjure thee never leave me!” “To hear is to obey,” replied I. Then I gave myself wholly up to her and paid her frequent visits: she was good and generous to me; and as often as I passed the night with her, she would make much of me and would ask me of the two saws my cousin Azizah told my mother and I would repeat them to her. And matters ceased not to be on this wise and I continued for a whole year eating and drinking and enjoying dalliance and wearing change of rich raiment until I waxed gross and fat, so that I lost all thought of sorrowing and mourning, and I clean forgot my cousin Azizah. And on New Year’s day I went to the bath, where I refreshed myself and put on a suit of sumptuous clothes; then coming out I drank a cup of wine and smelt the scent of my new gear which was perfumed with various essences; and my breast was broadened thereby, for I knew not the tricks of Pate nor the changing ways of Time. When the hour of night prayer came, I was minded to repair to my lover; but, being the worse for wine, I knew not when going to her whither I went, so my drunkenness turned me into a by street called Syndic Street;4 and the while I walked up that street behold, I caught sight of an old woman faring with a lighted taper in one hand, and in the other a folded letter. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Inshallah bukra!” a universal saying which is the horror of travellers.
2 I have explained “Nu’uman’s flower” as the anemone which in Grecised Arabic is “Anúmiyá.” Here they are strewed over the tomb; often the flowers are planted in a small bed of mould sunk in the upper surface.
3 Arab. “Barzakh” lit. a bar, a partition: in the Koran (chapts. xxiii. and xxxv.) the space or the place between death and resurrection where souls are stowed away. It corresponds after a fashion with the classical Hades and the Limbus (Limbo) of Christendom, e.g.. Limbus patrum, infantum, fatuorum. But it must not be confounded with Al-A’aráf, The Moslem purgatory.
4 Arab. “Zukák al-Nakíb,” the latter word has been explained as a chief, leader, head man.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant, whose name was Aziz, continued to Taj al-Muluk:— And when I entered the street called Syndic Street behold, I caught sight of an old woman walking with a lighted taper in one hand and in the other a folded letter and I drew near her and lo! she was weeping and repeating these couplets,
“O glad news bearer well come! Welcome! Hail!
How sweet thy speech to me, what treat thy tale:
O messenger from him whose weal I love,
God bless thee long as breathes soft morning-gale!”
Now when she saw me she asked, “O my son! canst thou read?”; and I answered, of my officiousness, “Yes, old naunty!” Rejoined she, “Then take this letter and read it to me.” And when she handed it to me, I took it and unfolding it read it to her and behold it was from an absent man to his friends and lovers whom he greeted; and, when she heard its purport, she rejoiced at the good tidings and blessed me, saying, “Allah dispel thine anxiety, even as thou hast dispelled mine!” Then she took the letter and walked on. Meanwhile, I was urged by a call of nature and sat down on my heels to make water.1 When I had ended I stood up and wiped the orifice with a pebble and then, letting down my clothes, I was about to wend my way, when suddenly the old woman came up to me again and, bending down over my hand, kissed it and said, “O my master! the Lord give thee joy of thy youth! I entreat thee to walk with me a few steps as far as yonder door, for I told them what thou didst read to me of the letter, and they believe me not, so come with me two steps and read them the letter from behind the door and accept the prayers of a righteous woman.” I enquired, “What is the history of this letter?”, and she replied, “O my son, this letter is from my son, who hath been absent for a term of ten years. He set out with a stock of merchandise and tarried long in foreign parts, till we lost hope of him and supposed him to be dead. Now after all that delay cometh this letter from him, and he hath a sister who weepeth for him night and day; so I said to her, ‘He is well and all right.’ But she will not believe me and declares, ‘There is no help but thou bring me one who will read this letter in my presence, that my heart may be at rest and my mind at ease.’ Thou knowest, O my son, that all who love are wont to think evil: so be good enough to go with me and read to her this letter, standing behind the curtain, whilst I call his sister to listen within the door, so shalt thou dispel our heed and fulfil our need. Verily quoth the Apostle of Allah (whom Allah bless and preserve!), ‘Whoso easeth the troubled of one of the troubles of this troublous world, Allah will ease him of an hundred troubles’; and according to another tradition, ‘Whoso easeth his brother of one of the troubles of this troublous world, Allah shall relieve him of seventy and two troubles on the Day of Resurrection.’ And I have betaken myself to thee; so disappoint me not.” Replied I, “To hear is to obey: do thou go before me!” So she walked on devancing me and I followed her a little way, till she came to the gate of a large and handsome mansion whose door was plated with copper.2 I stood behind the door, whilst the old woman cried out in Persian, and ere I knew it a damsel ran up with light and nimble step. She had tucked up her trousers to her knees, so that I saw a pair of calves that confounded thinker and lighter, and the maid herself was as saith the poet describing her,
“O thou who barest leg calf, better to suggest
For passion madded amourist better things above!
Towards its lover cloth the bowl go round and run;
Now these legs were like two pillars of alabaster adorned with anklets of gold, wherein were set stones of price. And the damsel had tucked up the end of her gown under her arm pit and had rolled up her sleeves to the elbow, so that I could see her white wrists whereon were two pairs of bracelets with clasps of great pearls; and round her neck was a collar of costly gems. Her ears were adorned with pendants of pearls and on her head she wore a kerchief5 of brocade, brand new and broidered with jewels of price. And she had thrust the skirt of her shift into her trousers string being busy with some household business. So when I saw her in this undress, I was confounded at her beauty, for she was like a shining sun. Then she said, with soft, choice speech, never heard I sweeter, “O my mother! is this he who cometh to read the letter?” “It is,” replied the old woman; and she put out her hand to me with the letter. Now between her and the door was a distance of about half a rod6; so I stretched forth my hand to take the letter from her and thrust head and shoulders within the door, thinking to draw near her and read the letter when, before I knew what her design was, the old woman butted her head against my back and pushed me forwards with the letter in my hand, so that ere I could take thought I found myself in the middle of the hall far beyond the vestibule. Then she entered, faster than a flash of blinding leven, and had naught to do but to shut the door. And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Moslems never stand up at such times, for a spray of urine would make their clothes ceremonially impure: hence the scrupulous will break up with stick or knife the hard ground in front of them. A certain pilgrim was reported to have made this blunder which is hardly possible in Moslem dress. A high personage once asked me if it was true that he killed a man who caught him in a standing position; and I found to my surprise that the absurd scandal was already twenty years old. After urinating the Moslem wipes the os penis with one to three bits of stone, clay or handfuls of earth, and he must perform Wuzu before he can pray. Tournefort (Voyage au Levant iii. 335) tells a pleasant story of certain Christians at Constantinople who powdered with “Poivre-d’Inde” the stones in a wall where the Moslems were in the habit of rubbing the os penis by way of wiping The same author (ii. 336) strongly recommends a translation of Rabelais’ Torcheculative chapter (Lib i., chaps. 13) for the benefit of Mohammedans.
2 Arab. “Nuhás ahmar,” lit. red brass.
3 The cup is that between the lady’s legs.
4 A play upon “Sák” = calf, or leg, and “Sákí,” a cup- bearer. The going round (Tawáf) and the running (Sa’i) allude to the circumambulation of the Ka’abah, and the running between Mount Safá and Marwah (Pilgrimage ii. 58, and iii. 343). A religious Moslem would hold the allusion highly irreverent.
5 Lane (i. 614) never saw a woman wearing such kerchief which is deshabille. It is either spread over the head or twisted turband-wise.
6 The “Kasabah” was about two fathoms of long measure, and sometimes 12 ½ feet; but the length has been reduced.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth Aziz pursued to Taj al Muluk: “When the old woman pushed me forwards I found myself, ere I could think, inside the vestibule; and the old woman entered faster than a flash of blinding levee and had naught to do but to shut the door. When the girl saw me in the vestibule, she came up to me and strained me to her bosom, and threw me to the floor; then she sat astraddle upon my breast and kneaded my belly with her fingers, till I well nigh lost my senses. Thereupon she took me by the hand and led me, unable to resist for the violence of her pressure, through seven vestibules, whilst the old woman forewent us with the lighted candle, till we came to a great saloon with four estrades whereon a horseman might play Polo.1 Here she released me, saying, “Open thine eyes.” So I opened them still giddy for the excess of her embracing and pressing, and saw that the whole saloon was built of the finest marbles and alabasters, and all its furniture was of silk and brocade even to the cushions and mattresses. Therein also were two benches of yellow brass and a couch of red gold, set with pearls and precious stones, befitting none save Kings like thyself. And off the saloon were smaller sitting rooms; and the whole place was redolent of wealth. Then she asked, “O Aziz, which is liefer to thee life or death?” “Life,” answered I; and she said, “If life be liefer to thee, marry me.” Quoth I, “Indeed I should hate to marry the like of thee.” Quoth she, “If thou marry me thou wilt at least be safe from the daughter of Dalílah the Wily One.”2 I asked, “And who be that daughter of the Wily One?” Whereupon she laughed and replied, “ ’Tis she who hath companied with thee this day for a year and four months (may the Almighty destroy and afflict her with one worse than herself!) By Allah, there liveth not a more perfidious than she. How many men hath she not slain before thee and what deeds hath she not done. Nor can I understand how thou hast been all the time in her company, yet she hath not killed thee nor done thee a mischief.” When I heard her words, I marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, “O my lady, who made thee to know her?” Said she, “I know her as the age knoweth its calamities; but now I would fain have thee tell me all that hath passed between you two, that I may ken the cause of thy deliverance from her.” So I told her all that had happened between us, including the story of my cousin Azizah. She expressed her pity when she heard of the death, and her eyes ran over with tears and she claps hand on hand and cried out, Her youth was lost on Allah’s way,3 and may the Lord bless thee for her good works! By Allah, O Aziz, she who died for thee was the cause of thy preservation from the daughter of Dalia the Wily; and, but for her, thou hadst been lost. And now she is dead I fear for thee from the Crafty One’s perfidy and mischief; but my throat is choking and I cannot speak.” Quoth I Ay, by Allah: all this happened even as thou sayest.” And she shook her head and cried, “There liveth not this day the like of Azizah. I continued, “And on her death bed she bade me repeat to my lover these two saws, ‘Faith is fair! Unfaith is foul’” When she heard me say this, she exclaimed, “O Aziz, by Allah those same words saved thee from dying by her hand; and now my heart is at ease for thee from her, for she will never kill thee and the daughter of thy uncle preserved thee during her lifetime and after her death. By Allah, I have desired thee day after day but could not get at thee till this time when I tricked thee and outwitted thee; for thou art a raw youth4 and knowest not the wiles of young women nor the deadly guile of old women.” Rejoined I, No, by Allah!” Then said she to me, “Be of good cheer and eyes clear; the dead hath found Allah’s grace, and the live shall be in good case. Thou art a handsome youth and I do not desire thee but according to the ordinance of Allah and His Apostle (on whom be salutation and salvation!). Whatever thou requirest of money and stuff, thou shalt have forthright without stint, and I will not impose any toil on thee, no, never!, for there is with me always bread baked hot and water in pot. All I need of thee is that thou do with me even as the cock doth.” I asked “And what doth the cock?” Upon this she laughed and clapped her hands and fell over on her back for excess of merriment then she sat up and smiled and said, “O light of my eyes, really dost thou not know what cock’s duty is?” “No, by Allah!” replied I, and she, “The cock’s duty is to eat and drink and tread.’ I was abashed at her words and asked, “Is that the cock’s duty? Yes, answered she; “and all I ask of thee now is to gird thy loins and strengthen thy will and futter thy best.” Then she clapped her hands and cried out, saying, “O my mother, bring forward those who are with thee.” And behold, in came the old woman accompanied by four lawful witnesses, and carrying a veil of silk. Then she lighted four candles, whilst the witnesses saluted me and sat down; and the girl veiled herself with the veil and deputed one of them to execute the contract on her behalf. So they wrote out the marriage bond and she testified to have received the whole sum settled upon her, both the half in advance and the half in arrears; and that she was indebted to me in the sum of ten thousand dirhams. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “Bat and ball,” or hockey on horseback (Polo) is one of the earliest Persian games as shown by every illustrated copy of Firdausi’s “Shahnámeh.” This game was played with a Kurrah or small hand-ball and a long thin bat crooked at the end called in Persian Chaugán and in Arabic Saulaján. Another sense of the word is given in the Burhán-i-Káti translated by Vullers (Lex. Persico–Latinum), a large bandy with bent head to which is hung an iron ball, also called Kaukabah (our “morning-star”) and like the umbrella it denotes the grandees of the court. The same Kaukabah particularly distinguished one of the Marquesses of Waterford. This Polo corresponds with the folliculus, the pallone, the baloun-game (moyen âge) of Europe, where the horse is not such a companion of man; and whereof the classics sang:—
Folle decet pueros ludere, folle senes.
In these days we should spell otherwise the “folle” of seniors playing at the ball or lawn-tennis.
2 “Dalíl” means a guide; ‘‘Dalílah,” a woman who misguides, a bawd. See the Tale of Dalílah the Crafty, Night dcxcviii.
3 i.e. she was a martyr.
4 Arab. “Ghashím” a popular and insulting term, our “Johnny Raw.” Its use is shown in Pilgrimage i. 110.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant continued to Taj al-Muluk: When they wrote out the marriage contract, she testified to having received the whole sum settled upon her, the half in advance and the half in arrears and that she was indebted to me in the sum of ten thousand dirhams. She paid the witnesses their wage and they withdrew whence they came. Thereupon she arose and cast off her clothes and stood in a chemise of fine silk edged with gold lace, after which she took off her trousers and seized my hand and led me up to the couch, saying, “There is no sin in a lawful put in.” She lay down on the couch outspread upon her back; and, drawing me on to her breast, heaved a sigh and followed it up with a wriggle by way of being coy. Then she pulled up the shift above her breasts, and when I saw her in this pose, I could not withhold myself from thrusting it into her, after I had sucked her lips, whilst she whimpered and shammed shame and wept when no tears came, and then said she, “O my beloved, do it, and do thy best!” Indeed the case reminded me of his saying, who said,
“When I drew up her shift from the roof of her coynte,
I found it as strait as my mind and my money:
So I drove it half-way, and she sighed a loud sigh
Quoth I, ‘Why this sigh?’: ‘For the rest of it, honey!’”
And she repeated, “O my beloved, let the finish be made for I am thine handmaid. My life on thee, up with it! give it me, all of it! that I may take it in my hand and thrust it into my very vitals!” And she ceased not to excite me with sobs and sighs and amorous cries in the intervals of kissing and clasping until amid our murmurs of pleasure we attained the supreme delight and the term we had in sight. We slept together till the morning, when I would have gone out; but lo! she came up to me, laughing, and said, “So! So! thinkest thou that going into the Hammam is the same as going out?1 Dost thou deem me to be the like of the daughter of Dalilah the Wily One? Beware of such a thought, for thou art my husband by contract and according to law. If thou be drunken return to thy right mind, and know that the house wherein thou art openeth but one day in every year. Go down and look at the great door.” So I arose and went down and found the door locked and nailed up and returned and told her of the locking and nailing. “O Aziz,” said she, “We have in this house flour, grain, fruits and pomegranates; sugar, meat, sheep, poultry and so forth enough for many years; and the door will not be opened till after the lapse of a whole twelvemonth and well I weet thou shalt not find thyself without this house till then.” Quoth I “There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” “And how can this harm thee,” rejoined she; “seeing thou knowest cock’s duty, whereof I told thee?” Then she laughed and I laughed too, and I conformed to what she said and abode with her, doing cock’s duty and eating and drinking and futtering for a year of full twelve months, during which time she conceived by me, and I was blessed with a babe by her. On the New Year’s day I heard the door opened and behold, men came in with cakes and flour and sugar. Upon this, I would have gone out but my wife said, “Wait till supper tide and go out even as thou camest in.” So I waited till the hour of night prayer and was about to go forth in fear and trembling, when she stopped me, saying, “By Allah, I will not let thee go until thou swear to come back this night before the closing of the door.” I agreed to this, and she swore me a solemn oath on Blade and Book,2 and the oath of divorce to boot, that I would return to her. Then I left her and going straight to the garden, found the door open as usual; where at I was angry and said to myself, “I have been absent this whole year and come here unawares and find the place open as of wont! I wonder is the damsel still here as before? I needs must enter and see before I go to my mother, more by reason that it is now nightfall.” So I entered the flower garden — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Shahrazad continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Aziz pursued to Taj al-Muluk: Then I entered the flower garden and made for the pavilion, where I found the daughter of Dalilah the Wily One, sitting with head on knee and hand to cheek. Her colour was changed and her eyes were sunken; but, when she saw me, she exclaimed, “Praised be Allah for thy safety!” And she was minded to rise but fell down for joy. I was abashed before her and hung my head; presently, however, I went up to her and kissed her and asked, “How knewest thou that I should come to thee this very night?” She answered, “I knew it not! By Allah, this whole year past I have not tasted the taste of sleep, but have watched through every night, expecting thee; and such hath been my case since the day thou wentest out from me and I gave thee the new suit of clothes, and thou promisedst me to go to the Hammam and to come back! So I sat awaiting thee that night and a second night and a third night; but thou camest not till after so great delay, and I ever expecting thy coming; for this is lovers’ way. And now I would have thee tell me what hath been the cause of thine absence from me the past year long?” So I told her. And when she knew that I was married, her colour waxed yellow, and I added, “I have come to thee this night but I must leave thee before day.” Quoth she, “Doth it not suffice her that she tricked thee into marrying her and kept thee prisoner with her a whole year, but she must also make thee swear by the oath of divorce, that thou wilt return to her on the same night before morning, and not allow thee to divert thyself with thy mother or me, nor suffer thee to pass one night with either of us, away from her? How then must it be with one from whom thou hast been absent a full year, and I knew thee before she did? But Allah have mercy on thy cousin Azizah, for there befel her what never befel any and she bore what none other ever bore and she died by thy ill usage; yet ’twas she who protected thee against me. Indeed, I thought thou didst love me, so I let thee take thine own way; else had I not suffered thee to go safe in a sound skin, when I had it in my power to clap thee in jail and even to slay thee.” Then she wept with sore weeping and waxed wroth and shuddered in my face with skin bristling1 and looked at me with furious eyes. When I saw her in this case I was terrified at her and my side muscles trembled and quivered, for she was like a dreadful she Ghul, an ogress in ire, and I like a bean over the fire. Then said she, “Thou art of no use to me, now thou art married and hast a child; nor art thou any longer fit for my company; I care only for bachelors and not for married men:2 these profit us nothing Thou hast sold me for yonder stinking armful; but, by Allah, I will make the whore’s heart ache for thee, and thou shalt not live either for me or for her!” Then she cried a loud cry and, ere I could think, up came the slave girls and threw me on the ground; and when I was helpless under their hands she rose and, taking a knife, said, “I will cut thy throat as they slaughter he goats; and that will be less than thy desert, for thy doings to me and the daughter of thy uncle before me.” When I looked to my life and found myself at the mercy of her slave women, with my cheeks dust soiled, and saw her sharpen the knife, I made sure of death. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan thus continued his tale to Zau al-Makan: Then quoth the youth Aziz to Taj al-Muluk, Now when I found my life at the mercy of her slave women with my cheeks dust soiled, and I saw her sharpen the knife, I made sure of death and cried out to her for mercy. But she only redoubled in ferocity and ordered the slave girls to pinion my hands behind me, which they did; and, throwing me on my back, she seated herself on my middle and held down my head. Then two of them came up and squatted on my shin bones, whilst other two grasped my hands and arms; and she summoned a third pair and bade them beat me. So they beat me till I fainted and my voice failed. When I revived, I said to myself, “ ’Twere easier and better for me to have my gullet slit than to be beaten on this wise!” And I remembered the words of my cousin, and how she used to say to me, “Allah, keep thee from her mischief!”; and I shrieked and wept till my voice failed and I remained without power to breathe or to move. Then she again whetted the knife and said to the slave girls, “Uncover him.” Upon this the Lord inspired me to repeat to her the two phrases my cousin had taught me, and had bequeathed to me, and I said, “O my lady, dost thou not know that Faith is fair, Unfaith is foul?” When she heard this, she cried out and said, “Allah pity thee, Azizah, and give thee Paradise in exchange for thy wasted youth! By Allah, of a truth she served thee in her life time and after her death, and now she hath saved thee alive out of my hands with these two saws. Nevertheless, I cannot by any means leave thee thus, but needs must I set my mark on thee, to spite yonder brazen faced piece, who hath kept thee from me.” There upon she called out to the slave women and bade them bind my feet with cords and then said to them, “Take seat on him!” They did her bidding, upon which she arose and fetched a pan of copper and hung it over the brazier and poured into it oil of sesame, in which she fried cheese.1 Then she came up to me (and I still insensible) and, unfastening my bag trousers, tied a cord round my testicles and, giving it to two of her women, bade them trawl at it. They did so, and I swooned away and was for excess of pain in a world other than this. Then she came with a razor of steel and cut off my member masculine,2 so that I remained like a woman: after which she seared the wound with the boiling and rubbed it with a powder, and I the while unconscious. Now when I came to myself, the blood had stopped; so she bade the slave girls unbind me and made me drink a cup of wine. Then said she to me, “Go now to her whom thou hast married and who grudged me a single night, and the mercy of Allah be on thy cousin Azizah, who saved thy life and never told her secret love! Indeed, haddest thou not repeated those words to me, I had surely slit thy weasand. Go forth this instant to whom thou wilt, for I needed naught of thee save what I have just cut off; and now I have no part in thee, nor have I any further want of thee or care for thee. So begone about thy business and rub thy head3 and implore mercy for the daughter of thine uncle!” Thereupon she kicked me with her foot and I rose, hardly able to walk; and I went, little by little, till I came to the door of our house. I saw it was open, so I threw myself within it and fell down in a fainting fit; whereupon my wife came out and lifting me up, carried me into the saloon and assured herself that I had become like a woman. Then I fell into a sleep and a deep sleep; and when I awoke, I found myself thrown down at the garden gate — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 As a styptic. The scene in the text has often been enacted in Egypt where a favourite feminine mode of murdering men is by beating and bruising the testicles. The Fellahs are exceedingly clever in inventing methods of manslaughter. For some years bodies were found that bore no outer mark of violence, and only Frankish inquisitiveness discovered that the barrel of a pistol had been passed up the anus and the weapon discharged internally Murders of this description are known in English history; but never became popular practice.
2 Arab. “Zakar,” that which betokens masculinity. At the end of the tale we learn that she also gelded him; thus he was a “Sandal),” a rasé.
3 See vol. i. p. 104. {see Volume 1, Note 188}
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan pursued to King Zau al-Makan, The youth Aziz thus continued his story to Taj al-Muluk: When I awoke and found myself thrown down at the garden gate, I rose, groaning for pain and misery, and made my way to our home and entering, I came upon my mother weeping for me, and saying, “Would I knew, O my son, in what land art thou?” So I drew near and threw myself upon her, and when she looked at me and felt me, she knew that I was ill; for my face was coloured black and tan. Then I thought of my cousin and all the kind offices she had been wont to do me, and I learned when too late that she had truly loved me; so I wept for her and my mother wept also Presently she said to me, “O my son, thy sire is dead.” At this my fury against Fate redoubled, and I cried till I fell into a fit. When I came to myself, I looked at the place where my cousin Azizah had been used to sit and shed tears anew, till I all but fainted once more for excess of weeping; and I ceased not to cry and sob and wail till midnight, when my mother said to me, “Thy father hath been dead these ten days.” “I shall never think of any one but my cousin Azizah,” replied I; “and indeed I deserve all that hath befallen me, for that I neglected her who loved me with love so dear.” Asked she, “What hath befallen thee?” So I told her all that had happened and she wept awhile, then she rose and set some matter of meat and drink before me. I ate a little and drank, after which I repeated my story to her, and told her the whole occurrence; whereupon she exclaimed, “Praised be Allah, that she did but this to thee and forbore to slaughter thee!” Then she nursed me and medicined me till I regained my health; and, when my recovery was complete, she said to me, “O my son, I will now bring out to thee that which thy cousin committed to me in trust for thee; for it is thine. She swore me not to give it thee, till I should see thee recalling her to mind and weeping over her and thy connection severed from other than herself; and now I know that these conditions are fulfilled in thee.” So she arose, and opening a chest, took out this piece of linen, with the figures of gazelles worked thereon, which I had given to Azizah in time past; and taking it I found written therein these couplets,
“Lady of beauty, say, who taught thee hard and harsh design,
To slay with longing Love’s excess this hapless lover thine?
An thou fain disremember me beyond our parting day,
Allah will know, that thee and thee my memory never shall tyne.
Thou blamest me with bitter speech yet sweetest ’tis to me;
Wilt generous be and deign one day to show of love a sign?
I had not reckoned Love contained so much of pine and pain;
And soul distress until I came for thee to pain and pine
Never my heart knew weariness, until that eve I fell
In love wi’ thee, and prostrate fell before those glancing eyne!
My very foes have mercy on my case and moan therefor;
But thou, O heart of Indian steel, all mercy dost decline.
No, never will I be consoled, by Allah, an I die,
Nor yet forget the love of thee though life in ruins lie!”
When I read these couplets, I wept with sore weeping and buffeted my face; then I unfolded the scroll, and there fell from it an other paper. I opened it and behold, I found written therein, ‘Know, O son of my uncle, that I acquit thee of my blood and I beseech Allah to make accord between thee and her whom thou lovest; but if aught befal thee through the daughter of Dalilah the Wily, return thou not to her neither resort to any other woman and patiently bear thine affliction, for were not thy fated life tide a long life, thou hadst perished long ago; but praised be Allah who hath appointed my death day before thine! My peace be upon thee; preserve this cloth with the gazelles herein figured and let it not leave thee, for it was my companion when thou was absent from me;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan pursued to King Zau al-Makan, And the youth Aziz continued to Taj al-Muluk: So I read what my cousin had written and the charge to me which was, “Preserve this cloth with the gazelles and let it not leave thee, for it was my companion when thou west absent from me and, Allah upon thee! if thou chance to fall in with her who worked these gazelles, hold aloof from her and do not let her approach thee nor marry her; and if thou happen not on her and find no way to her, look thou consort not with any of her sex. Know that she who wrought these gazelles worketh every year a gazelle cloth and despatcheth it to far countries, that her report and the beauty of her broidery, which none in the world can match, may be bruited abroad. As for thy beloved, the daughter of Dalilah the Wily, this cloth came to her hand, and she used to ensnare folk with it, showing it to them and saying, ‘I have a sister who wrought this.’ But she lied in so saying, Allah rend her veil! This is my parting counsel; and I have not charged thee with this charge, but because I know1 that after my death the world will be straitened on thee and, haply, by reason of this, thou wilt leave thy native land and wander in foreign parts, and hearing of her who wrought these figures, thou mayest be minded to fore gather with her. Then wilt thou remember me, when the memory shall not avail thee; nor wilt thou know my worth till after my death. And, lastly, learn that she who wrought the gazelles is the daughter of the King of the Camphor Islands and a lady of the noblest.” Now when I had read that scroll and understood what was written therein, I fell again to weeping, and my mother wept because I wept, and I ceased not to gaze upon it and to shed tears till night fall. I abode in this condition a whole year, at the end of which the merchants, with whom I am in this cafilah, prepared to set out from my native town; and my mother counseled me to equip myself and journey with them, so haply I might be consoled and my sorrow be dispelled, saying, “Take comfort and put away from thee this mourning and travel for a year or two or three, till the caravan return, when perhaps thy breast may be broadened and thy heart heartened.” And she ceased not to persuade me with endearing words, till I provided myself with merchandise and set out with the caravan. But all the time of my wayfaring, my tears have never dried; no, never! and at every halting place where we halt, I open this piece of linen and look on these gazelles and call to mind my cousin Azizah and weep for her as thou hast seen; for indeed she loved me with dearest love and died, oppressed by my unlove. I did her nought but ill and she did me nought but good. When these merchants return from their journey, I shall return with them, by which time I shall have been absent a whole year: yet hath my sorrow waxed greater and my grief and affliction were but increased by my visit to the Islands of Camphor and the Castle of Crystal. Now these islands are seven in number and are ruled by a King, by name Shahriman,2 who hath a daughter called Dunyá;3 and I was told that it was she who wrought these gazelles and that this piece in my possession was of her embroidery. When I knew this, my yearning redoubled and I burnt with the slow fire of pining and was drowned in the sea of sad thought; and I wept over myself for that I was become even as a woman, without manly tool like other men, and there was no help for it. From the day of my quitting the Camphor Islands, I have been tearful eyed and heavy hearted, and such hath been my case for a long while and I know not whether it will be given me to return to my native land and die beside my mother or not; for I am sick from eating too much of the world. Thereupon the young merchant wept and groaned and complained and gazed upon the gazelles; whilst the tears rolled down his cheeks in streams and he repeated these two couplets,
“Joy needs shall come,” a prattler ‘gan to prattle:
“Needs cease thy blame!” I was commoved to rattle:
‘In time,’ quoth he: quoth I ‘ ’Tis marvellous!
Who shall ensure my life, O cold of tattle!’”4
And he repeated also these,
“Well Allah weets that since our severance day
I’ve wept till forced to ask of tears a loan:
‘Patience! (the blamer cries): thou’lt have her yet!’
Quoth I, ‘O blamer where may patience wone?’”
Then said he, “This, O King! is my tale: hast thou ever heard one stranger?” So Taj al-Muluk marvelled with great marvel at the young merchant’s story, and fire darted into his entrails on hearing the name of the Lady Dunya and her loveliness. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The purity and intensity of her love had attained to a something of prophetic strain.
2 Lane corrupts this Persian name to Sháh Zemán (i. 568).
3 i.e. the world, which includes the ideas of Fate, Time, Chance.
4 Arab. “Bárid,” silly, noyous, contemptible; as in the proverb
Two things than ice are colder cold:—
An old man young, a young man old.
A “cold-of-countenance”=a fool: “May Allah make cold thy face!”=may it show want and misery. “By Allah, a cold speech!”=a silly or abusive tirade (Pilgrimage, ii. 22).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan: Now when Taj al-Muluk heard the story of the young merchant, he marvelled with great marvel and fire darted into his entrails on hearing the name of the Lady Dunya who, as he knew, had embroidered the gazelles; and his love and longing hourly grew, so he said to the youth, “By Allah, that hath befallen thee whose like never befel any save thyself, but thou hast a life term appointed, which thou must fulfil; and now I would fain ask of thee a question.” Quoth Aziz, “And what is it?” Quoth he, “Wilt thou tell me how thou sawest the young lady who wrought these gazelles?” Then he, “O my lord, I got me access to her by a sleight and it was this. When I entered her city with the caravan, I went forth and wandered about the garths till I came to a flower garden abounding in trees, whose keeper was a venerable old man, a Shaykh stricken in years. I addressed him, saying, ‘O ancient sir, whose may be this garden?’ and he replied, ‘It belongs to the King’s daughter, the Lady Dunya. We are now beneath her palace and, when she is minded to amuse herself, she openeth the private wicket and walketh in the garden and smelleth the fragrance of the flowers.’ So I said to him, ‘Favour me by allowing me to sit in this garden till she come; haply I may enjoy a sight of her as she passeth.’ The Shaykh answered, ‘There can be no harm in that.’ Thereupon I gave him a dirham or so and said to him, Buy us something to eat.’ He took the money gladly and opened door and, entering himself, admitted me into the garden, where we strolled and ceased not strolling till we reached a pleasant spot in which he bade me sit down and await his going and his returning. Then he brought me somewhat of fruit and, leaving me, disappeared for an hour; but after a while he returned to me bringing a roasted lamb, of which we ate till we had eaten enough, my heart yearning the while for a sight of the lady. Presently, as we sat, the postern opened and the keeper said to me, ‘Rise and hide thee.’ I did so; and behold, a black eunuch put his head out through the garden wicket and asked, ‘O Shaykh, there any one with thee?’ ‘No,’ answered he; and the eunuch said, ‘Shut the garden gate.’ So the keeper shut the gate, and lo! the Lady Dunya came in by the private door. When I saw her, methought the moon had risen above the horizon and was shining; I looked at her a full hour and longed for her as one athirst longeth for water. After a while she withdrew and shut the door; whereupon I left the garden and sought my lodging, knowing that I could not get at her and that I was no man for her, more especially as I was become like a woman, having no manly tool: moreover she was a King’s daughter and I but a merchant man; so; how could I have access to the like of her or — to any other woman? Accordingly, when these my companions made ready for the road, I also made preparation and set out with them, and we journeyed towards this city till we arrived at the place ere we met with thee. Thou askedst me and I have answered; and these are my adventures and peace be with thee!” Now when Taj al-Muluk heard that account, fires raged in his bosom and his heart and thought were occupied love for the Lady Dunya; and passion and longing were sore upon him. Then he arose and mounted horse and, taking Aziz with him, returned to his father’s capital, where he settled him in a separate house and supplied him with all he needed in the way of meat and drink and dress. Then he left him and returned to his palace, with the tears trickling down his cheeks, for hearing oftentimes standeth instead of seeing and knowing.1 And he ceased not to be in this state till his father came in to him and finding him wan faced, lean of limb and tearful eyed, knew that something had occurred to chagrin him and said, “O my son, acquaint me with thy case and tell me what hath befallen thee, that thy colour is changed and thy body is wasted. So he told him all that had passed and what tale he had heard of Aziz and the account of the Princess Dunya; and how he had fallen in love of her on hearsay, without having set eyes on her. Quoth his sire, “O my son, she is the daughter of a King whose land is far from ours: so put away this thought and go in to thy mother’s palace.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The popular form is, “often the ear loveth before the eye.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan: And the father of Taj al-Muluk spake to him on this wise, “O my son, her father is a King whose land is far from ours: so put away this thought and go into thy mother’s palace where are five hundred maidens like moons, and whichsoever of them pleaseth thee, take her; or else we will seek for thee in marriage some one of the King’s daughters, fairer than the Lady Dunya.” Answered Taj al-Muluk, “O my father, I desire none other, for she it is who wrought the gazelles which I saw, and there is no help but that I have her; else I will flee into the world and the waste and I will slay myself for her sake.” Then said his father, “Have patience with me, till I send to her sire and demand her in marriage, and win thee thy wish as I did for myself with thy mother. Haply Allah will bring thee to thy desire; and, if her parent will not consent, I will make his kingdom quake under him with an army, whose rear shall be with me whilst its van shall be upon him.” Then he sent for the youth Aziz and asked him, “O my son, tell me dost thou know the way to the Camphor Islands?” He answered “Yes”; and the King said, “I desire of thee that thou fare with my Wazir thither.” Replied Aziz, “I hear and I obey, O King of the Age!”; where upon the King summoned his Minister and said to him, “Devise me some device, whereby my son’s affair may be rightly managed and fare thou forth to the Camphor Islands and demand of their King his daughter in marriage for my son, Taj al-Muluk.” The Wazir replied, “Hearkening and obedience.” Then Taj al-Muluk returned to his dwelling place and his love and longing redoubled and the delay seemed endless to him; and when the night darkened around him, he wept and sighed and complained and repeated this poetry,
“Dark falls the night: my tears unaided rail
And fiercest flames of love my heart assail:
Ask thou the nights of me, and they shall tell
An I find aught to do but weep and wail:
Night long awake, I watch the stars what while
Pour down my cheeks the tears like dropping hail:
And lone and lorn I’m grown with none to aid;
For kith and kin the love lost lover fail.”
And when he had ended his reciting he swooned away and did not recover his senses till the morning, at which time there came to him one of his father’s eunuchs and, standing at his head, summoned him to the King’s presence. So he went with him and his father, seeing that his pallor had increased, exhorted him to patience and promised him union with her he loved. Then he equipped Aziz and the Wazir and supplied them with presents; and they set out and fared on day and night till they drew near the Isles of Camphor, where they halted on the banks of a stream, and the Minister despatched a messenger to acquaint the King of his arrival. The messenger hurried forwards and had not been gone more than an hour, before they saw the King’s Chamberlains and Emirs advancing towards them, to meet them at a parasang’s distance from the city and escort them into the royal presence. They laid their gifts before the King and became his guests for three days. And on the fourth day the Wazir rose and going in to the King, stood between his hands and acquainted him with the object which induced his visit; whereat he was perplexed for an answer inasmuch as his daughter misliked men and disliked marriage. So he bowed his head groundwards awhile, then raised it and calling one of his eunuchs, said to him, “Go to thy mistress, the Lady Dunya, and repeat to her what thou hast heard and the purport of this Wazir’s coming.” So the eunuch went forth and returning after a time, said to the King, “O King of the Age, when I went in to the Lady Dunya and told her what I had heard, she was wroth with exceeding wrath and rose at me with a staff designing to break my head; so I fled from her, and she said to me ‘If my Father force me to wed him, whomsoever I wed I will slay.’ Then said her sire to the Wazir and Aziz, “Ye have heard, and now ye know all! So let your King wot of it and give him my salutations and say that my daughter misliketh men and disliketh marriage.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Shahriman thus addressed the Wazir and Aziz, “Salute your King from me and inform him of what ye have heard, namely that my daughter misliketh marriage.” So they turned away unsuccessful and ceased not faring on till they rejoined the King and told him what had passed; whereupon he commanded the chief officers to summon the troops and get them ready for marching and campaigning. But the Wazir said to him, “O my liege Lord, do not thus: the King is not at fault because, when his daughter learnt our business, she sent a message saying, ‘If my father force me to wed, whomsoever I wed I will slay and myself after him.’ So the refusal cometh from her.” When the King heard his Minister’s words he feared for Taj al-Muluk and said, “Verily if I make war on the King of the Camphor Islands and carry off his daughter, she will kill herself and it will avail me naught.” Then he told his son how the case stood, who hearing it said, “O my father, I cannot live without her; so I will go to her and contrive to get at her, even though I die in the attempt, and this only will I do and nothing else.” Asked his father, “How wilt thou go to her?” and he answered, “I will go in the guise of a merchant.”1 Then said the King, “If thou need must go and there is no help for it, take with thee the Wazir and Aziz.” Then he brought out money from his treasuries and made ready for his son merchandise to the value of an hundred thousand dinars. The two had settled upon this action; and when the dark hours came Taj al-Muluk and Aziz went to Aziz’s lodgings and there passed that night, and the Prince was heart smitten, taking no pleasure in food or in sleep; for melancholy was heavy upon him and he was agitated with longing for his beloved. So he besought the Creator that he would vouch safe to unite him with her and he wept and groaned and wailed and began versifying,
“Union, this severance ended, shall I see some day?
Then shall my tears this love lorn lot of me portray.
While night all care forgets I only minded thee,
And thou didst gar me wake while all forgetful lay.”
And when his improvising came to an end, he wept with sore weeping and Aziz wept with him, for that he remembered his cousin; and they both ceased not to shed tears till morning dawned, whereupon Taj al-Muluk rose and went to farewell his mother, in travelling dress. She asked him of his case and he repeated the story to her; so she gave him fifty thousand gold pieces and bade him adieu; and, as he fared forth, she put up prayers for his safety and for his union with his lover and his friends. Then he betook himself to his father and asked his leave to depart. The King granted him permission and, presenting him with other fifty thousand dinars, bade set up a tent for him without the city and they pitched a pavilion wherein the travellers abode two days. Then all set out on their journey. Now Taj al-Muluk delighted in the company of Aziz and said to him, “O my brother, henceforth I can never part from thee.” Replied Aziz, “And I am of like mind and fain would I die under thy feet: but, O my brother, my heart is concerned for my mother.” “When we shall have won our wish,” said the Prince, “there will be naught save what is well!” Now the Wazir continued charging Taj al-Muluk to be patient, whilst Aziz entertained him every evening with talk and recited poetry to him and diverted him with histories and anecdotes. And so they fared on diligently night and day for two whole months, till the way became tedious to Taj al-Muluk and the fire of desire redoubled on him; and he broke out,
“The road is lonesome; grow my grief and need,
While on my breast love fires for ever feed:
Goal of my hopes, sole object of my wish!
By him who moulded man from drop o’ seed,
I bear such loads of longing for thy love,
Dearest, as weight of al Shumm Mounts exceed:
O ‘Lady of my World’2 Love does me die;
No breath of life is left for life to plead;
But for the union hope that lends me strength,
My weary limbs were weak this way to speed.”
When he had finished his verses, he wept (and Aziz wept with him) from a wounded heart, till the Minister was moved to pity by their tears and said, “O my lord, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes clear of tears; there will be naught save what is well!” Quoth Taj al-Muluk, “O Wazir, indeed I am weary of the length of the way. Tell me how far we are yet distant from the city.” Quoth Aziz, “But a little way remaineth to us.” Then they continued their journey, cutting across river vales and plains, words and stony wastes, till one night, as Taj al-Muluk was sleeping, he dreamt that his beloved was with him and that he embraced her and pressed her to his bosom; and he awoke quivering, shivering with pain, delirious with emotion, and improvised these verses,
“Dear friend, my tears aye flow these cheeks adown,
With longsome pain and pine, my sorrow’s crown:
I plain like keening woman child bereft,
And as night falls like widow dove I groan:
An blow the breeze from land where thou cost wone,
I find o’er sunburnt earth sweet coolness blown.
Peace be wi’ thee, my love, while zephyr breathes,
And cushat flies and turtle makes her moan.”
And when he had ended his versifying, the Wazir came to him and said, “Rejoice; this is a good sign: so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, for thou shalt surely compass thy desire.” And Aziz also came to him and exhorted him to patience and applied himself to divert him, talking with him and telling him tales. So they pressed on, marching day and night, other two months, till there appeared to them one day at sunrise some white thing in the distance and Taj al-Muluk said to Aziz, “What is yonder whiteness?” He replied, “O my lord! yonder is the Castle of Crystal and that is the city thou seekest.” At this the Prince rejoiced, and they ceased not faring forwards till they drew near the city and, as they approached it, Taj al-Muluk joyed with exceeding joy, and his care ceased from him. They entered in trader guise, the King’s son being habited as a merchant of importance; and repaired to a great Khan, known as the Merchants’ Lodging. Quoth Taj al-Muluk to Aziz, “Is this the resort of the merchants?”; and quoth he, “Yes; ’tis the Khan wherein I lodged before.” So they alighted there and making their baggage camels kneel, unloaded them and stored their goods in the warehouses.3 They abode four days for rest; when the Wazir advised that they should hire a large house. To this they assented and they found them a spacious house, fitted up for festivities, where they took up their abode, and the Wazir and Aziz studied to devise some device for Taj al-Muluk, who remained in a state of perplexity, knowing not what to do. Now the Minister could think of nothing but that he should set up as a merchant on ‘Change and in the market of fine stuffs; so he turned to the Prince and his companion and said to them, “Know ye that if we tarry here on this wise, assuredly we shall not win our wish nor attain our aim; but a something occurred to me whereby (if Allah please!) we shall find our advantage.” Replied Taj al-Muluk and Aziz, “Do what seemeth good to thee, indeed there is a blessing on the grey beard; more specially on those who, like thyself, are conversant with the conduct of affairs: so tell us what occurreth to thy mind.” Rejoined the Wazir “It is my counsel that we hire thee a shop in the stuff bazar, where thou mayst sit to sell and buy. Every one, great and small, hath need of silken stuffs and other cloths; so if thou patiently abide in thy shop, thine affairs will prosper, Inshallah! more by token as thou art comely of aspect. Make, however, Aziz thy factor and set him within the shop, to hand thee the pieces of cloth and stuffs.” When Taj al-Muluk heard these words, he said, ‘This rede is right and a right pleasant recking.” So he took out a handsome suit of merchant’s weed, and, putting it on, set out for the bazar, followed by his servants, to one of whom he had given a thousand dinars, wherewith to fit up the shop. They ceased not walking till they came to the stuff market, and when the merchants saw Taj al-Muluk’s beauty and grace, they were confounded and went about saying, “Of a truth Rizwán4 hath opened the gates of Paradise and left them unguarded, so that this youth of passing comeliness hath come forth.” And others, “Peradventure this is one of the angels.” Now when they went in among the traders they asked for the shop of the Overseer of the market and the merchants directed them thereto. So they delayed not to repair thither and to salute him, and he and those who were with him rose to them and seated them and made much of them, because of the Wazir, whom they saw to be a man in years and of reverend aspect; and viewing the youths Aziz and Taj al-Muluk in his company, they said to one another, “Doubtless our Shaykh is the father of these two youths.” Then quoth the Wazir, “Who among you is the Overseer of the market?” “This is he,” replied they; and behold, he came forward and the Wazir observed him narrowly and saw him to be an old man of grave and dignified carriage, with eunuchs and servants and black slaves. The Syndic greeted them with the greeting of friends and was lavish in his attentions to them: then he seated them by his side and asked them, “Have ye any business which we5 may have the happiness of transacting?” The Minister answered, “Yes; I am an old man, stricken in years, and have with me these two youths, with whom I have travelled through every town and country, entering no great city without tarrying there a full year, that they might take their pleasure in viewing it and come to know its citizens. Now I have visited your town intending to sojourn here for a while; so I want of thee a handsome shop in the best situation, wherein I may establish them, that they may traffic and learn to buy and sell and give and take, whilst they divert themselves with the sight of the place, and be come familiar with the usages of its people.” Quoth the Overseer, “There is no harm in that;” and, looking at the two youths, he was delighted with them and affected them with a warm affection. Now he was a great connoisseur of bewitching glances, preferring the love of boys to that of girls and inclining to the sour rather than the sweet of love. So he said to himself, “This, indeed, is fine game. Glory be to Him who created and fashioned them out of vile water!”6 and rising stood before them like a servant to do them honour. Then he went out and made ready for them a shop which was in the very midst of the Exchange; nor was there any larger or better in the bazar, for it was spacious and handsomely decorated and fitted with shelves of ivory and ebony wood. After this he delivered the keys to the Wazir, who was dressed as an old merchant, saying, “Take them, O my lord, and Allah make it a blessed abiding place to thy two sons!” The Minister took the keys and the three returning to the Khan where they had alighted, bade the servants transport to the shop all their goods and stuffs. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Not the first time that royalty has played this prank, nor the last, perhaps.
2 i.e. the Lady Dunya.
3 These magazines are small strongly-built rooms on the ground floor, where robbery is almost impossible.
4 Lit. “approbation,” “benediction”; also the Angel who keeps the Gates of Paradise and who has allowed one of the Ghilmán (or Wuldán) the boys of supernatural beauty that wait upon the Faithful, to wander forth into this wicked world.
5 In Europe this would be a plurale majestatis, used only by Royalty. In Arabic it has no such significance, and even the lower orders apply it to themselves; although it often has a soupçon of “I and thou.”
6 Man being an “extract of despicable water” (Koran xxxii. 7) ex spermate genital), which Mr. Rodwell renders “from germs of life,” “from sorry water.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir took the shop keys, he went accompanied by Taj al-Muluk and Aziz to the Khan, and they bade the servants transport to the shop all their goods and stuffs and valuables of which they had great store worth treasures of money. And when all this was duly done, they went to the shop and ordered their stock in trade and slept there that night. As soon as morning morrowed the Wazir took the two young men to the Hammam bath where they washed them clean; and they donned rich dresses and scented themselves with essences and enjoyed themselves to the utmost. Now each of the youths was passing fair to look upon, and in the bath they were even as saith the poet,
“Luck to the Rubber, whose deft hand o’erdies
A frame begotten twixt the lymph and light:1
He shows the thaumaturgy of his craft,
And gathers musk in form of camphor dight.”2
After bathing they left; and, when the Overseer heard that they had gone to the Hammam, he sat down to await the twain, and presently they came up to him like two gazelles; their cheeks were reddened by the bath and their eyes were darker than ever; their faces shone and they were as two lustrous moons or two branches fruit laden. Now when he saw them he rose forthright and said to them, “O my sons, may your bath profit you always!”3 Where upon Taj al-Muluk replied, with the sweetest of speech, “Allah be bountiful to thee, O my father; why didst thou not come with us and bathe in our company?” Then they both bent over his right hand and kissed it and walked before him to the shop, to entreat him honourably and show their respect for him, for that he was Chief of the Merchants and the market, and he had done them kindness in giving them the shop. When he saw their hips quivering as they moved, desire and longing redoubled on him; and he puffed and snorted and he devoured them with his eyes, for he could not contain himself, repeating the while these two couplets,
“Here the heart reads a chapter of devotion pure;
Nor reads dispute if Heaven in worship partner take:
No wonder ’tis he trembles walking ‘neath such weight!
How much of movement that revolving sphere must make.4”
Furthermore he said,
“I saw two charmers treading humble earth.
Two I must love an tread they on mine eyes.”
When they heard this, they conjured him to enter the bath with them a second time. He could hardly believe his ears and hastening thither, went in with them. The Wazir had not yet left the bath; so when he heard of the Overseer’s coming, he came out and meeting him in the middle of the bath hall invited him to enter. He refused, whereupon Taj al-Muluk taking him by the hand walked on one side and Aziz by the other, and carried him into a cabinet; and that impure old man submitted to them, whilst his emotion increased on him. He would have refused, albeit this was what he desired; but the Minister said to him, “They are thy sons; let them wash thee and cleanse thee.” “Allah preserve them to thee!” exclaimed the Overseer, “By Allah your coming and the coming of those with you bring down blessing and good luck upon our city!” And he repeated these two couplets,
“Thou camest and green grew the hills anew;
And sweetest bloom to the bridegroom threw,
While aloud cried Earth and her earth-borns too
‘Hail and welcome who comest with grace to endue.’”
They thanked him for this, and Taj al-Muluk ceased not to wash him and to pour water over him and he thought his soul in Paradise. When they had made an end of his service, he blessed them and sat by the side of the Wazir, talking but gazing the while on the youths. Presently, the servants brought them towels, and they dried themselves and donned their dress. Then they went out, and the Minister turned to the Syndic and said to him, “O my lord! verily the bath is the Paradise5 of this world.” Replied the Overseer, “Allah vouchsafe to thee such Paradise, and health to thy sons and guard them from the evil eye! Do ye remember aught that the eloquent have said in praise of the bath.?” Quoth Taj al-Muluk, “I will repeat for thee a pair of couplets;” and he recited,
The life of the bath is the joy of man’s life,6
Save that time is short for us there to bide:
A Heaven where irksome it were to stay;
A Hell, delightful at entering-tide.”
When he ended his recital, quoth Aziz, “And I also remember two couplets in praise of the bath.” The Overseer said, “Let me hear them,” so he repeated the following,
“A house where flowers from stones of granite grow,
Seen at its best when hot with living lows:
Thou deem’st it Hell but here, forsooth, is Heaven,
And some like suns and moons within it show.”
And when he had ended his recital, his verses pleased the Overseer and he wondered at his words and savoured their grace and fecundity and said to them, “By Allah, ye possess both beauty and eloquence. But now listen to me, you twain!” And he began chanting, and recited in song the following verses,
“O joy of Hell and Heaven! whose tormentry
Enquickens frame and soul with lively gree:
I marvel so delightsome house to view,
And most when ‘neath it kindled fires I see:
Sojourn of bliss to visitors, withal
Pools on them pour down tears unceasingly.”
Then his eye-sight roamed and browsed on the gardens of their beauty and he repeated these two couplets,
“I went to the house of the keeper-man;
He was out, but others to smile began:
When they heard these verses they were charmed, and the Over seer invited them to his house; but they declined and returned to their own place, to rest from the great heat of the bath. So they took their ease there and ate and drank and passed that night in perfect solace and satisfaction, till morning dawned, when they arose from sleep and making their lesser ablution, prayed the dawn — prayer and drank the morning draught.11 As soon as the sun had risen and the shops and markets opened, they arose and going forth from their place to the bazar opened their shop, which their servants had already furnished, after the handsomest fashion, and had spread with prayer rugs and silken carpets and had placed on the divans a pair of mattresses, each worth an hundred dinars. On every mattress they had disposed a rug of skin fit for a King and edged with a fringe of gold; and a-middlemost the shop stood a third seat still richer, even as the place required. Then Taj al-Muluk sat down on one divan, and Aziz on another, whilst the Wazir seated himself on that in the centre, and the servants stood before them. The city people soon heard of them and crowded about them, so that they sold some of their goods and not a few of their stuffs; for Taj al-Muluk’s beauty and loveliness had become the talk of the town. Thus they passed a trifle of time, and every day the people flocked to them and pressed upon them more and more, till the Wazir, after exhorting Taj al-Muluk to keep his secret, commended him to the care of Aziz and went home, that he might commune with himself alone and cast about for some contrivance which might profit them. Meanwhile, the two young men sat talking and Taj al-Muluk said to Aziz, “Haply some one will come from the Lady Dunya.” So he ceased not expecting this chance days and nights, but his heart was troubled and he knew neither sleep nor rest; for desire had got the mastery of him, and love and longing were sore upon him, so that he renounced the solace of sleep and abstained from meat and drink; yet ceased he not to be like the moon on the night of fullness. Now one day as he sat in the shop, behold, there came up an ancient woman. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. begotten by man’s seed in the light of salvation (Núr al-hudá).
2 The rolls of white (camphor-like) scarf-skin and sordes which come off under the bathman’s glove become by miracle of Beauty, as brown musk. The Rubber or Shampooer is called in Egypt “Mukayyis” (vulgarly “Mukayyisáti”) or “bagman,” from his “Kís,” a bag-glove of coarse woollen stuff. To “Johnny Raws” he never fails to show the little rolls which come off the body and prove to them how unclean they are, but the material is mostly dead scarf-skin
3 The normal phrase on such occasions (there is always a “dovetail” de rigueur) “Allah give thee profit!”
4 i.e. We are forced to love him only, and ignore giving him a rival (referring to Koranic denunciations of “Shirk,” or attributing a partner to Allah, the religion of plurality, syntheism not polytheism): see, he walks tottering under the weight of his back parts wriggling them whilst they are rounded like the revolving heavens.
5 Jannat al-Na’ím (Garden of Delight); the fifth of the seven Paradises made of white diamond; the gardens and the plurality being borrowed from the Talmud. Mohammed’s Paradise, by the by, is not a greater failure than Dante’s. Only ignorance or pious fraud asserts it to be wholly sensual; and a single verse is sufficient refutation: “Their prayer therein shall be ‘Praise unto thee, O. Allah!’ and their salutation therein shall be ‘Peace!’ and the end of their prayer shall be, ‘Praise unto God, the Lord of all creatures”’ (Koran x. 10–11). See also lvi. 24- 26. It will also be an intellectual condition wherein knowledge will greatly be increased (lxxxviii viii. 17–20). Moreover the Moslems, far more logical than Christians, admit into Paradise the so-called “lower animals.”
6 Sed vitam faciunt balnea, vine, Venus! The Hammam to Easterns is a luxury as well as a necessity; men sit there for hours talking chiefly of money and their prowess with the fair; and women pass half the day in it complaining of their husbands’ over-amativeness and contrasting their own chaste and modest aversion to camel congress.
7 The frigidarium or cold room, coolness being delightful to the Arab.
8 The calidarium or hot room of the bath.
9 The Angel who acts door-keeper of Hell; others say he specially presides over the torments of the damned (Koran xliii. 78).
10 The Door-keeper of Heaven before mentioned who, like the Guebre Zamiyád has charge of the heavenly lads and lasses, and who is often charged by poets with letting them slip.
11 Lane (i. 616), says “of wine, milk, sherbet, or any other beverage.” Here it is wine, a practice famed in Persian poetry, especially by Hafiz, but most distasteful to a European stomach. We find the Mu allakah of Imr al-Keys noticing “our morning draught.” Nott (Hafiz) says a “cheerful cup of wine in the morning was a favourite indulgence with the more luxurious Persians. And it was not uncommon among the Easterns, to salute friend by saying.“May your morning potation be agreeable to you!” In the present day this practice is confined to regular debauchees.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan: Now one day as Taj al-Muluk sat in his shop, behold, there appeared an ancient woman, who came up to him followed by two slave girls. She ceased not advancing till she stood before the shop of Taj al-Muluk and, observing his symmetry and beauty and loveliness, marvelled at his charms and sweated in her petticoat trousers, exclaiming, “Glory to Him who created thee out of vile water, and made thee a temptation to all beholders!” And she fixed her eyes on him and said, “This is not a mortal, he is none other than an angel deserving the highest respect.”1 Then she drew near and saluted him, whereupon he returned her salute and rose to his feet to receive her and smiled in her face (all this by a hint from Aziz); after which he made her sit down by his side and fanned her with a fan, till she was rested and refreshed. Then she turned to Taj al-Muluk and said, “O my son! O thou who art perfect in bodily gifts and spiritual graces; say me, art thou of this country?” He replied, in voice the sweetest and in tone the pleasantest, “By Allah, O my mistress, I was never in this land during my life till this time, nor do I abide here save by way of diversion.” Rejoined she, “May the Granter grant thee all honour and prosperity! And what stuffs hast thou brought with thee? Show me something passing fine; for the beauteous should bring nothing but what is beautiful.” When he heard her words, his heart fluttered and he knew not their inner meaning; but Aziz made a sign to him and he replied, “I have everything thou canst desire and especially I have goods that besit none but Kings and King’s daughters; so tell me what stuff thou wantest and for whom, that I may show thee what will be fitting for him.” This he said, that he might learn the meaning of her words; and she rejoined, “I want a stuff fit for the Princess Dunya, daughter of King Shahriman.” Now when the Prince heard the name of his beloved, he joyed with great joy and said to Aziz, “Give me such a parcel.” So Aziz brought it and opened it before Taj al-Muluk who said to the old woman, “Select what will suit her; for these goods are to be found only with me.” She chose stuffs worth a thousand dinars and asked, “How much is this?”; and she ceased not the while to talk with him and rub what was inside her thighs with the palm of her hand. Answered Taj al-Muluk, “Shall I haggle with the like of thee about this paltry price? Praised be Allah who hath acquainted me with thee!” The old woman rejoined, “Allah’s name be upon thee! I commend thy beautiful face to the protection of the Lord of the Daybreak.2 Beautiful face and eloquent speech! Happy she who lieth in thy bosom and claspeth thy waist in her arms and enjoyeth thy youth, especially if she be beautiful and lovely like thyself!” At this, Taj al-Muluk laughed till he fell on his back and said to himself, “O Thou who fulfillest desires human by means of pimping old women! They are the true fulfillers of desires!” Then she asked, “O my son, what is thy name?” and he answered, “My name is Taj al-Muluk, the Crown of Kings.” Quoth she, “This is indeed a name of Kings and King’s sons and thou art clad in merchant’s clothes.” Quoth Aziz, “for the love his parents and family bore him and for the value they set on him, they named him thus.” Replied the old woman, “Thou sayest sooth, Allah guard you both from the evil eye and the envious, though hearts be broken by your charms!” Then she took the stuffs and went her way; but she was amazed at his beauty and stature and symmetry, and she ceased not going till she found the Lady Dunya and said to her, “O my mistress! I have brought thee some handsome stuffs.” Quoth the Princess, “Show me that same”; and the old woman, “O apple of my eye, here it is, turn it over and examine it.” Now when the Princess looked at it she was amazed and said, “O my nurse, this is indeed handsome stuff: I have never seen its like in our city.” “O my lady,” replied the old nurse, “he who sold it me is handsomer still. It would seem as if Rizwan had left the gates of Paradise open in his carelessness, and as if the youth who sold me this stuff had come bodily out of Heaven. I would he might sleep this night with thee and might lie between thy breasts.3 He hath come to thy city with these precious stuffs for amusement’s sake, and he is a temptation to all who set eyes on him.” The Princess laughed at her words and said, “Allah afflict thee, O pernicious old hag! Thou dotest and there is no sense left in thee.” Presently, she resumed, “Give me the stuff that I may look at it anew.” So she gave it her and she took it again and saw that its size was small and its value great. It pleased her, for she had never in her life seen its like, and she exclaimed, “By Allah, this is a handsome stuff!” Answered the old woman, “O my lady, by Allah! if thou sawest its owner thou wouldst know him for the handsomest man on the face of the earth.” Quoth the Lady Dunya, “Didst thou ask him if he had any need, that he might tell us and we might satisfy it?” But the nurse shook her head and said, “The Lord keep thy sagacity! By Allah, he hath a want, may thy skill not fail thee. What! is any man free from wants?” Rejoined the Princess, “Go back to him and salute him and say to him, ‘Our land and town are honoured by thy visit and, if thou have any need, we will fulfil it to thee, on our head and eyes.’ “ So the old woman at once returned to Taj al-Muluk, and when he saw her his heart jumped for joy and gladness and he rose to his feet before her and, taking her hand, seated her by his side. As soon as she was rested, she told him what Princess Dunya had said; and he on hearing it joyed with exceeding joy; his breast dilated to the full; gladness entered his heart and he said to himself, “Verily, I have my need.” Then he asked the old woman, “Haply thou wilt take her a message from me and bring me her answer?”; and she answered, “I hear and I obey.” So he said to Aziz, “Bring me ink-case and paper and a brazen pen.” And when Aziz brought him what he sought, he hent the pen in hand and wrote these lines of poetry,
“I write to thee, O fondest hope! a writ
Of grief that severance on my soul cloth lay:
Saith its first line, ‘Within my heart is [owe!’
Its second, ‘Love and Longing on me prey!’
Its third, ‘My patience waste is, fades my life!’
Its fourth, ‘Naught shall my pain and pine allay!’
Its fifth, ‘When shall mine eyes enjoy thy sight?’
Its sixth, ‘Say, when shall dawn our meeting-day?’ ”
And, lastly, by way of subscription he wrote these words.
“This letter is from the captive of captivation prisoned in the hold of longing expectation wherefrom is no emancipation but in anticipation and intercourse and in unification after absence and separation. For from the severance of friends he loveth so fain he suffereth love pangs and pining pain.”
Then his tears rushed out, and he indited these two couplets,
“I write thee, love, the while my tears pour down;
Nor cease they ever pouring thick and fleet:
Yet I despair not of my God, whose grace
Haply some day will grant us twain to meet.”
Then he folded the letter4 and sealed it with his signet ring and gave it to the old woman, saying, “Carry it to the Lady Dunya.” Quoth she, “To hear is to obey;” whereupon he gave her a thousand dinars and said to her, “O my mother! accept this gift from me as a token of my affection.” She took both from him and blessed him and went her way and never stinted walking till she went in to the Lady Dunya. Now when the Princess saw her she said to her, “O my nurse, what is it he asketh of need that we may fulfil his wish to him?” Replied the old woman, “O my lady, he sendeth thee this letter by me, and I know not what is in it;” and handed it to her. Then the Princess took the letter and read it; and when she understood it, she exclaimed, “Whence cometh and whither goeth this merchant man that he durst address such a letter to me?” And she slapt her face saying, “‘Whence are we that we should come to shopkeeping? Awah! Awah! By the lord, but that I fear Almighty Allah I had slain him;” and she added, “Yea, I had crucified5 him over his shop door!” Asked the old woman, “What is in this letter to vex thy heart and move thy wrath on this wise? Doth it contain a complaint of oppression or demand for the price of the stuff?” Answered the Princess, “Woe to thee! There is none of this in it, naught but words of love and endearment. This is all through thee: otherwise whence should this Satan6 know me?” Rejoined the old woman, “o my lady, thou sittest in thy high palace and none may have access to thee; no, not even the birds of the air. Allah keep thee, and keep thy youth from blame and reproach! Thou needest not care for the barking of dogs, for thou art a Princess, the daughter of a King. Be not wroth with me that I brought thee this letter, knowing not what was in it; but I opine that thou send him an answer and threaten him with death and forbid him this foolish talk; surely he will abstain and not do the like again.” Quoth the Lady Dunya, “I fear that, if I write to him, he will desire me the more.” The old woman returned “When he heareth thy threats and promise of punishment, he will desist from his persistence.” She cried, “Here with the ink case and paper and brazen pen;” and when they brought them she wrote these couplets,
“O thou who for thy wakeful nights wouldst claim my love to boon,
For what of pining thou must feel and tribulation!
Dost thou, fond fool and proud of sprite, seek meeting with the Moon?
Say, did man ever win his wish to take in arms the Moon?
I counsel thee, from soul cast out the wish that dwells therein,
And cut that short which threatens thee with sore risk oversoon:
An to such talk thou dare return, I bid thee to expect
Fro’ me such awful penalty as suiteth froward loon:
I swear by Him who moulded man from gout of clotted blood,7
Who lit the Sun to shine by day and lit for night the moon,
An thou return to mention that thou spakest in thy pride,
Upon a cross of tree for boon I’ll have thee crucified!”
Then she folded the letter and handing it to the old woman said, “Give him this and say him, ‘Cease from this talk!’ “ “Hearkening and obedience,” replied she, and taking the letter with joy, returned to her own house, where she passed the night; and when morning dawned she betook herself to the shop of Taj al-Muluk whom she found expecting her. When he saw her, he was ready to fly8 for delight, and when she came up to him, he stood to her on his feet and seated her by his side. Then she brought out the letter and gave it to him, saying, “Read what is in this;” adding “When Princess Dunya read thy letter she was angry; but I coaxed her and jested with her till I made her laugh, and she had pity on thee and she hath returned thee an answer.” He thanked her for her kindness and bade Aziz give her a thousand gold pieces: then he perused the letter and understanding it fell to weeping a weeping so sore that the old woman’s heart was moved to ruth for him, and his tears and complaints were grievous to her. Presently she asked him, “O my son, what is there in this letter to make thee weep?” Answered he, “She hath threatened me with death and crucifixion and she forbiddeth me to write to her, but if I write not my death were better than my life. So take thou my answer to the letter and let her work her will.” Rejoined the old woman, “By the life of thy youth, needs must I risk my existence for thee, that I may bring thee to thy desire and help thee to win what thou hast at heart!” And Taj al-Muluk said, “Whatever thou dost, I will requite thee for it and do thou weigh it in the scales of thy judgement, for thou art experienced in managing matters, and skilled in reading the chapters of the book of intrigue: all hard matters to thee are easy doings; and Allah can bring about everything.” Then he took a sheet of paper and wrote thereon these improvised couplets,
“Yestre’en my love with slaughter menaced me,
But sweet were slaughter and Death’s foreordainèd:
Yes, Death is sweet for lover doomed to bear
Long life, rejected, injured and constrainèd:
By Allah! deign to visit friendless friend!
Thy thrall am I and like a thrall I’m chainèd:
Mercy, O lady mine, for loving thee!
Who loveth noble soul should be assainèd.”
Then he sighed heavy sighs and wept till the old woman wept also and presently taking the letter she said to him, “Be of good cheer and cool eyes and clear; for needs must I bring thee to thy wish.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Koran xii. 31. The words spoken by Zulaykhá‘s women friends and detractors whom she invited to see Beauty Joseph.
2 A formula for averting fascination. Koran, chaps. cxiii. 1. “Falak” means “cleaving” hence the breaking forth of light from darkness, a “wonderful instance of the Divine power.”
3 The usual delicate chaff.
4 Such letters are generally written on a full-sized sheet of paper (“notes” are held slighting in the East) and folded till the breadth is reduced to about one inch. The edges are gummed, the ink, much like our Indian ink, is smeared with the finger upon the signet ring; the place where it is to be applied is slightly wetted with the tongue and the seal is stamped across the line of junction to secure privacy. I have given a specimen of an original love-letter of the kind in “Scinde, or the Unhappy Valley,” chaps. iv.
5 Arab. “Salb” which may also mean hanging, but the usual term for the latter in The Nights is “shanak.” Crucifixion, abolished by the superstitious Constantine, was practised as a servile punishment as late as the days of Mohammed Ali Pasha the Great e malefactors were nailed and tied to the patibulum or cross-piece without any sup pedaneum or foot-rest and left to suffer tortures from flies and sun, thirst and hunger. They often lived three days and died of the wounds mortifying and the nervous exhaustion brought on by cramps and convulsions. In many cases the corpses were left to feed the kites and crows; and this added horror to the death. Moslems care little for mere hanging. Whenever a fanatical atrocity is to be punished, the malefactor should be hung in pig-skin, his body burnt and the ashes publicly thrown into a common cesspool.
6 Arab “Shaytán” the insolent or rebellious one is a common term of abuse. The word I. Koramc, and borrowed as usual from the Jews. “Satan” occurs four times in the O.T. of which two are in Job where, however, he is a subordinate angel.
7 Arab. “Alak” from the Koran xxii. 5. “ O men . . . consider that we first created you of dust (Adam); afterwards of seed (Rodwell’s “moist germs of life”); afterwards of a little coagulated (or clots of) blood.” It refers to all mankind except Adam, Eve and Isa. Also chaps. xcvi. 2, which, as has been said was probably the first composed at Meccah. Mr. Rodwell (v. 10) translates by ‘Servant of God” what should be “Slave of Allah,” alluding to Mohammed’s original name Abdullah. See my learned friend Aloys Sprenger, Leben, etc., i.155.
8 The Hindus similarly exaggerate: “He was ready to leap out of his skin in his delight” (Katha, etc., p. 443).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Taj al-Muluk wept the old woman said to him, “Be of good cheer and cool eyes and clear; for needs must I bring thee to thy wish.” Then she rose and left him on coals of fire; and returned to Princess Dunya, whom she found still showing on her changed face rage at Taj al-Muluk’s letter. So she gave her his second letter, whereat her wrath redoubled and she said, “Did I not say he would desire us the more?” Replied the old woman, “What thing is this dog that he should aspire to thee?” Quoth the Princess, “Go back to him and tell him that, if he write me after this, I will cut off his head.” Quoth the nurse, “Write these words in a letter and I will take it to him that his fear may be the greater.” So she took a sheet of paper and wrote thereon these couplets,
“Ho thou, who past and bygone risks regardest with uncare!
Thou who to win thy meeting prize dost overslowly fare!
In pride of spirit thinkest thou to win the star Soha1?
Albe thou may not reach the Moon which shines through upper air?
How darest thou expect to win my favours, hope to clip
Upon a lover’s burning breast my lance like shape and rare?
Leave this thy purpose lest my wrath come down on thee some day,
A day of wrath shall hoary turn the partings of thy hair!”
Then she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who took it and repaired to Taj al-Muluk. And when he saw her, he rose to his feet and exclaimed, “May Allah never bereave me of the blessing of thy coming!” Quoth she, “Take the answer to thy letter.” He took it and reading it, wept with sore weeping and said, “I long for some one to slay me at this moment and send me to my rest, for indeed death were easier to me than this my state!” Then he took ink case and pen and paper and wrote a letter containing these two couplets,
“O hope of me! pursue me not with rigour and disdain:
Deign thou to visit lover wight in love of thee is drowned;
Deem not a life so deeply wronged I longer will endure;
My soul for severance from my friend divorced this frame unsound.”
Lastly he folded the letter and handed it to the old woman, saying, “Be not angry with me, though I have wearied thee to no purpose.” And he bade Aziz give her other thousand ducats, saying, “O my mother, needs must this letter result in perfect union or utter severance.” Replied she, “O my son, by Allah, I desire nought but thy weal; and it is my object that she be thine, for indeed thou art the shining moon, and she the rising sun.2 If I do not bring you together, there is no profit in my existence; and I have lived my life till I have reached the age of ninety years in the practice of wile and intrigue; so how should I fail to unite two lovers, though in defiance of right and law?” Then she took leave of him having comforted his heart, and ceased not walking till she went in to the Lady Dunya. Now she had hidden the letter in her hair: so when she sat down by the Princess she rubbed her head and said, “O my lady, maybe thou wilt untwist my hair knot, for it is a time since I went to the Hammam.” The King’s daughter bared her arms to the elbows and, letting down the old woman’s locks, began to loose the knot of back hair; when out dropped the letter and the Lady Dunya seeing it, asked, “What is this paper?” Quoth the nurse, “As I sat in the merchant’s shop, this paper must have stuck to me: give it to me that I may return it to him; possibly it containeth some account whereof he hath need.” But the Princess opened it and read it and, when she understood it, she cried out, “This is one of thy manifold tricks, and hadst thou not reared me, I would lay violent hands on thee this moment! Verily Allah hath afflicted me with this merchant: but all that hath befallen me with him is on thy head. I know not from what country this one can have come: no man but he would venture to affront me thus, and I fear lest this my case get abroad, more by token as it concerneth one who is neither of my kin nor of my peers.” Rejoined the old woman “None would dare speak of this for fear of thy wrath and for awe of thy sire; so there can be no harm in sending him an answer.” Quoth the Princess, “O my nurse, verily this one is a perfect Satan! How durst he use such language to me and not dread the Sultan’s rage. Indeed, I am perplexed about his case: if I order him to be put to death, it were unjust; and if I leave him alive his boldness will increase.” Quoth the old woman, “Come, write him a letter; it may be he will desist in dread.” So she called for paper and ink case and pen and wrote these couplets,
“Thy folly drives thee on though long I chid,
Writing in verse: how long shall I forbid?
For all forbiddal thou persistest more,
And my sole grace it is to keep it hid;
Then hide thy love nor ever dare reveal,
For an thou speak, of thee I’ll soon be rid
If to thy silly speech thou turn anew,
Ravens shall croak for thee the wold amid:
And Death shall come and beat thee down ere long,
Put out of sight and bury ‘neath an earthen lid:
Thy folk, fond fool! thou’lt leave for thee to mourn,
And through their lives to sorrow all forlorn.”
Then she folded the letter and committed it to the old woman, who took it and returning to Taj al-Muluk, gave it to him. When he read it, he knew that the Princess was hard hearted and that he should not win access to her; so he complained of his case to the Wazir and besought his counsel. Quoth the Minister, “Know thou that naught will profit thee save that thou write to her and invoke the retribution of Heaven upon her.” And quoth the Prince, “O my brother, O Aziz, do thou write to her as if my tongue spake, according to thy knowledge.” So Aziz took a paper and wrote these couplets,
“By the Five Shaykhs,3 O Lord, I pray deliver me;
Let her for whom I suffer bear like misery:
Thou knowest how I fry in flaming lowe of love,
While she I love hath naught of ruth or clemency:
How long shall I, despite my pain, her feelings spare?
How long shall she wreak tyranny o’er weakling me?
In pains of never ceasing death I ever grieve:
O Lord, deign aid; none other helping hand I see.
How fain would I forget her and forget her love!
But how forget when Love garred Patience death to dree?
O thou who hinderest Love to ‘joy fair meeting tide
Say! art thou safe from Time and Fortune’s jealousy?
Art thou not glad and blest with happy life, while I
From folk and country for thy love am doomed flee?”
Then Aziz folded the letter and gave it to Taj al-Muluk, who read it and was pleased with it. So he handed it to the old woman, who took it and went in with it to Princess Dunya. But when she read it and mastered the meaning thereof, she was enraged with great rage and said, “All that hath befallen me cometh by means of this ill omened old woman!” Then she cried out to the damsels and eunuchs, saying, “Seize this old hag, this accursed trickstress and beat her with your slippers!” So they came down upon her till she swooned away; and, when she came to herself, the Princess said to her, “By the Lord! O wicked old woman, did I not fear Almighty Allah, I would slay thee.” Then quoth she to them, “Beat her again” and they did so till she fainted a second time, whereupon she bade them drag her forth and throw her outside the palace door. So they dragged her along on her face and threw her down before the gate; but as soon as she revived she got up from the ground and, walking and sitting by turns, made her way home. There she passed the night till morning, when she arose and went to Taj al-Muluk and told them all that had occurred. He was distressed at this grievous news and said, “O my mother, hard indeed to us is that which hath befallen thee, but all things are according to fate and man’s lot.” Replied she, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, for I will not give over striving till I have brought thee and her together, and made thee enjoy this wanton who hath burnt my skin with beating.” Asked the Prince “Tell me what caused her to hate men;” and the old woman answered, “It arose from what she saw in a dream.” “And what was this dream?” “’Twas this: one night, as she lay asleep, she saw a fowler spread his net upon the ground and scatter wheat grain round it. Then he sat down hard by, and not a bird in the neighbourhood but flocked to his toils. Amongst the rest she beheld a pair of pigeons, male and female; and, whilst she was watching the net, behold, the male bird’s foot caught in the meshes and he began to struggle; whereupon all the other birds took fright and flew away. But presently his mate came back and hovered over him, then alighted on the toils unobserved by the fowler, and fell to pecking with her beak and pulling at the mesh in which the male bird’s foot was tangled, till she released the toes and they flew away together. Then the fowler came up, mended his net and seated himself afar off. After an hour or so the birds flew back and the female pigeon was caught in the net; whereupon all the other birds took fright and scurried away; and the male pigeon fled with the rest and did not return to his mate, but the fowler came up and took the female pigeon and cut her throat. The Princess awoke, troubled by her dream, and said, ‘All males are like this pigeon, worthless creatures: and men in general lack grace and goodness to women.’” When the old woman had ended her story, the Prince said to her, “O my mother, I desire to have one look at her, though it be my death; so do thou contrive me some contrivance for seeing her.” She replied, “Know then that she hath under her palace windows a garden wherein she taketh her pleasure; and thither she resorteth once in every month by the private door. After ten days, the time of her thus going forth to divert herself will arrive; so when she is about to visit the garden, I will come and tell thee, that thou mayst go thither and meet her. And look thou leave not the garden, for haply, an she see thy beauty and Loveliness, her heart will be taken with love of thee, and love is the most potent means of union.” He said, “I hear and obey;” whereupon he and Aziz arose and left the shop and, taking the old woman with them, showed her the place where they lodged. Then said Taj al-Muluk to Aziz, “O my brother, I have no need of the shop now, having fulfilled my purpose of it; so I give it to thee with all that is in it; for that thou hast come abroad with me and hast left thy native land for my sake.” Aziz accepted his gift and then they sat conversing, while the Prince questioned him of the strange adventures which had befallen him, and his companion acquainted him with the particulars thereof. Presently, they went to the Wazir and, reporting to him Taj al-Muluk’s purpose, asked him, “What is to be done?” “Let us go to the garden,” answered he. So each and every donned richest clothes and went forth, followed by three white slaves to the garden, which they found thick with thickets and railing its rills. When they saw the keeper sitting at the gate, they saluted him with the Salam and he returned their salute. Then the Wazir gave him an hundred gold pieces, saying, “Prithee, take this small sum and fetch us somewhat to eat; for we are strangers and I have with me these two lads whom I wish to divert.”4 The Gardener took the sequins and said to them, “Enter and amuse yourselves in the garden, for it is all yours; and sit down till I bring you what food you require.” So he went to the market while the Wazir and Taj al-Muluk and Aziz entered the garden. And shortly after leaving for the bazar the Gardener returned with a roasted lamb and cotton white bread, which he placed before them, and they ate and drank; thereupon he served up sweetmeats, and they ate of them, and washed their hands and sat talking. Presently the Wazir said to the garth keeper, “Tell me about this garden: is it thine or dost thou rent it?” The Shaykh replied, “It doth not belong to me, but to our King’s daughter, the Princess Dunya.” “What be thy monthly wages?” asked the Wazir and he answered, “One diner and no more.” Then the Minister looked round about the garden and, seeing in its midst a pavilion tall and grand but old and disused, said to the keeper, “O elder, I am minded to do here a good work, by which thou shalt remember me. Replied the other, “O my lord, what is the good work thou wouldest do?” “Take these three hundred diners,” rejoined the Wazir When the Keeper heard speak of the gold, he said, “O my lord, whatso thou wilt, do!” So the Wazir gave him the monies, saying, “Inshallah, we will make a good work in this place!” Then they left him and returned to their lodging, where they passed the night; and when it was the next day, the Minister sent for a plasterer and a painter and a skilful goldsmith and, furnishing them with all the tools they wanted, carried them to the garden, where he bade them whitewash the walls of the pavilion and decorate it with various kinds of paintings. Moreover he sent for gold and lapis lazuli5 and said to the painter, “Figure me on the wall, at the upper end of this hall, a man fowler with his nets spread and birds falling into them and a female pigeon entangled in the meshes by her bill.” And when the painter had finished his picture on one side, the Wazir said, “Figure me on the other side a similar figure and represent the she pigeon alone in the snare and the fowler seizing her and setting the knife to her neck; and draw on the third side wall, a great raptor clutching the male pigeon, her mate, and digging talons into him.” The artist did his bidding, and when he and the others had finished the designs, they received their hire and went away. Then the Wazir and his companions took leave of the Gardener and returned to their place, where they sat down to converse. And Taj al-Muluk said to Aziz, “O my brother, recite me some verses: perchance it may broaden my breast and dispel my dolours and quench the fire flaming in my heart.” So Aziz chanted with sweet modulation these couplets,
“Whate’er they say of grief to lovers came,
I, weakling I, can single handed claim:
An seek thou watering spot,6 my streaming eyes
Pour floods that thirst would quench howe’er it flame
Or wouldest view what ruin Love has wrought
With ruthless hands, then see this wasted frame.”
And his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated these couplets also,
“Who loves not swan-neck and gazelle-like eyes,
Yet claims to know Life’s joys, I say he lies:
In Love is mystery, none avail to learn
Save he who loveth in pure loving wise.
Allah my heart ne’er lighten of this love,
Nor rob the wakefulness these eyelids prize.”
Then he changed the mode of song and sang these couplets:
“Ibn Síná7 in his Canon cloth opine
Lovers’ best cure is found in merry song:
In meeting lover of a like degree,
Dessert in garden, wine draughts long and strong:
I chose another who of thee might cure
While Force and Fortune aided well and long
But ah! I learnt Love’s mortal ill, wherein
Ibn Sina’s recipe is fond and wrong.”
After hearing them to the end, Taj al-Muluk was pleased with his verses and wondered at his eloquence and the excellence of his recitation, saying, “Indeed, thou hast done away with somewhat of my sorrow.” Then quoth the Wazir “Of a truth, there occurred to those of old what astoundeth those who hear it told.” Quoth the Prince, “If thou canst recall aught of this kind, prithee let us hear thy subtle lines and keep up the talk.” So the Minister chanted in modulated song these couplets,
“Indeed I deemed thy favours might be bought
By gifts of gold and things that joy the sprite
And ignorantly thought thee light-o’-love,
When can thy love lay low the highmost might;
Until I saw thee choosing one, that one
Loved with all favour, crowned with all delight:
Then wot I thou by sleight canst ne’er be won
And under wing my head I hid from sight
And in this nest of passion made my wone,
Wherein I nestle morning, noon and night.”
So far concerning them; but as regards the old woman she remained shut up from the world in her house, till it befel that the King’s daughter was taken with a desire to divert herself in the garden. Now she had never been wont so to do save in company with her nurse; accordingly she sent for her and made friends with her and soothed her sorrow, saying, “I wish to go forth to the garden, that I may divert myself with the sight of its trees and Fruits, and broaden my breast with the scent of its flowers.” Replied the old woman, “I hear and obey; but first I would go to my house, and soon I will be with thee.” The Princess rejoined, “Go home, but be not long absent from me.” So the old woman left her and, repairing to Taj al-Muluk, said to him, “Get thee ready and don thy richest dress and go to the garden and find out the Gardener and salute him and then hide thyself therein.” “To hear is to obey” answered he; and she agreed with him upon a signal, after which she returned to the Lady Dunya. As soon as she was gone, the Wazir and Aziz rose and robed Taj al-Muluk in a splendid suit of royal raiment worth five thousand diners, and girt his middle with a girdle of gold set with gems and precious metals. Then they repaired to the garden and found seated at the gate the Keeper who, as soon as he saw the Prince, sprang to his feet and received him with all respect and reverence, and opening the gate, said, “Enter and take thy pleasure in looking at the garden.” Now the Gardener knew not that the King’s daughter was to visit the place that day; but when Taj al-Muluk had been a little while there, he heard a hubbub and ere he could think, out issued the eunuchs and damsels by the private wicket. The Gardener seeing this came up to the Prince, informed him of her approach and said to him, “O my lord, what is to be done? The Princess Dunya, the King’s daughter, is here.” Replied the Prince, “Fear not, no harm shall befal thee; for I will hide me somewhere about the garden.” So the Keeper exhorted him to the utmost prudence and went away. Presently the Princess entered the garden with her damsels and with the old woman, who said to herself, “If these eunuchs stay with us, we shall not attain our end.” So quoth she to the King’s daughter, “O my lady, I have somewhat to tell thee which shall ease thy heart.” Quoth the Princess, “Say what thou hast to say.” “O my lady, rejoined the old woman, “thou hast no need of these eunuchs at a time like the present; nor wilt thou be able to divert thyself at thine ease, whilst they are with us; so send them away;” and the Lady Dunya replied, “Thou speakest sooth” Accordingly she dismissed them and presently began to walk about, whilst Taj al-Muluk looked upon her and fed his eyes on her beauty and loveliness (but she knew it not); and every time he gazed at her he fainted by reason of her passing charms.8 The old woman drew her on by converse till they reached the pavilion which the Wazir had bidden be decorated, when the Princess entered and cast a glance round and perceived the picture of the birds the fowler and the pigeon; whereupon she cried, “Exalted be Allah! This is the very counterfeit presentment of what I saw in my dream.” She continued to gaze at the figures of the birds and the fowler with his net, admiring the work, and presently she said, “O my nurse, I have been wont to blame and hate men, but look now at the fowler how he hath slaughtered the she bird who set free her mate; who was minded to return to her and aid her to escape when the bird of prey met him and tore him to pieces.” Now the old woman feigned ignorance to her and ceased not to occupy her in converse, till they drew near the place where Taj al-Muluk lay hidden. Thereupon she signed to him to come out and walk under the windows of the pavilion, and, as the Lady Dunya stood looking from the casement, behold, her glance fell that way and she saw him and noting his beauty of face and form, said to the old woman, “O my nurse, whence cometh yonder handsome youth?” Replied the old woman, “I know nothing of him save that I think he must be some great King’s son, for he attaineth comeliness in excess and extreme loveliness.” And the Lady Dunya fell in love with him to distraction; the spells which bound her were loosed and her reason was overcome by his beauty and grace; and his fine stature and proportions strongly excited her desires sexual. So she said, “O my nurse! this is indeed a handsome youth;” and the old woman replied, “Thou sayest sooth, O my lady,” and signed to Taj al-Muluk to go home. And though desire and longing flamed in him and he was distraught for love, yet he went away and took leave of the Gardener and returned to his place, obeying the old woman and not daring to cross her. When he told the Wazir and Aziz that she had signed him to depart, they exhorted him to patience, saying, “Did not the ancient dame know that there was an object to be gained by thy departure, she had not signalled thee to return home.” Such was the case with Taj al-Muluk, the Wazir and Aziz but as regards the King’s daughter, the Lady Dunya, desire and passion redoubled upon her; she was overcome with love and longing and she said to her nurse, “I know not how I shall manage a meeting with this youth, but through thee.” Exclaimed the old woman, “I take refuge with Allah from Satan the stoned! Thou who art averse from men! How cometh it then that thou art thus afflicted with hope and fear of this young man? Yet, by Allah, none is worthy of thy youth but he.” Quoth the Lady Dunya, “O my nurse, further my cause and help me to foregather with him, and thou shalt have of me a thousand diners and a dress of honour worth as much more: but if thou aid me not to come at him, I am a dead woman in very sooth.” Replied the ancient dame, “Go to thy palace and leave me to devise means for bringing you twain together. I will throw away my life to content you both!” So the Lady Dunya returned to her palace, and the old woman betook herself to Taj al-Muluk who, when he saw her, rose to receive her and entreated her with respect and reverence making her sit by his side. Then she said, “The trick hath succeeded,” and told him all that had passed between herself and the Princess. He asked her, “When is our meeting to be?”; and she answered, “Tomorrow.” So he gave her a thousand diners and a dress of like value, and she took them and stinted not walking till she returned to her mistress, who said to her, “O my nurse! what news of the be loved?” Replied she, “I have learnt where he liveth and will bring him to thee tomorrow.” At this the Princess was glad and gave her a thousand diners and a dress worth as much more, and she took them and returned to her own place, where she passed the night till morning. Then she went to Taj al-Muluk and dressing him in woman’s clothes, said to him, “Follow me and sway from side to side9 as thou steppest, and hasten not thy pace nor take heed of any who speaketh to thee.” And after thus charging him she went out, and the Prince followed her in woman’s attire and she continued to charge and encourage him by the way, that he might not be afraid; nor ceased they walking till they came to the Palace-gate. She entered and the Prince after her, and she led him on, passing through doors and vestibules, till they had passed seven doors.10 As they approached the seventh, she said to him, “Hearten thy heart and when I call out to thee and say, ‘O damsel pass on!’ do not slacken thy pace, but advance as if about to run. When thou art in the vestibule, look to thy left and thou wilt see a saloon with doors: count five doors and enter the sixth, for therein is thy desire.” Asked Taj al-Muluk, “And whither wilt thou go?”; and she answered, “Nowhere shall I go except that perhaps I may drop behind thee, and the Chief Eunuch may detain me to chat with him.” She walked on (and he behind her) till she reached the door where the Chief Eunuch was stationed and he, seeing Taj al-Muluk with her dressed as a slave girl, said to the old woman, “What business hath this girl with thee?” Replied she, “This is a slave girl of whom the Lady Dunya hath heard that she is skilled in different kinds of work and she hath a mind to buy her.” Rejoined the Eunuch, “I know neither slave girls nor anyone else; and none shall enter here without my searching according to the King’s commands.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A star in the tail of the Great Bear, one of the “Banát al-Na’ash,” or a star close to the second. Its principal use is to act foil to bright Sohayl (Canopus) as in the beginning of Jámí‘s Layla–Majnún:—
To whom Thou’rt hid, day is darksome night:
To whom shown, Sohá as Sohayl is bright.
See also al-Hariri (xxxii. and xxxvi.). The saying, “I show her Soha and she shows me the moon” (A. P. i. 547) arose as follows. In the Ignorance a beautiful Amazon defied any man to take her maidenhead; and a certain Ibn al-Ghazz won the game by struggling with her till she was nearly senseless. He then asked her, “How is thine eye-sight: dost thou see Soha?” and she, in her confusion, pointed to the moon and said, “That is it!”
2 The moon being masculine (lupus) and the sun feminine.
3 The “five Shaykhs” must allude to that number of Saints whose names are doubtful; it would be vain to offer conjectures. Lane and his “Sheykh” (i. 617) have tried and failed.
4 The beauties of nature seem always to provoke hunger in Orientals, especially Turks, as good news in Englishmen.
5 Pers. “Lájuward”: Arab. “Lázuward”; prob. the origin of our “azure,” through the Romaic and the Ital. azzurro; and, more evidently still, of lapis lazuli, for which do not see the Dictionaries.
6 Arab. “Maurid.” the desert-wells where caravans drink: also the way to water wells.
7 The famous Avicenna, whom the Hebrews called Aben Sina. The early European Arabists, who seem to have learned Arabic through Hebrew, borrowed their corruption, and it long kept its place in Southern Europe.
8 According to the Hindus there are ten stages of love-sickness: (1) Love of the eyes (2) Attraction of the Manas or mind; (3) Birth of desire; (4) Loss of sleep; (5) Loss of flesh; (6) Indifference to objects of sense; (7) Loss of shame, (8) Distraction of thought (9) Loss of consciousness; and (10) Death.
9 We should call this walk of “Arab ladies” a waddle: I have never seen it in Europe except amongst the trading classes of Trieste, who have a “wriggle” of their own.
10 In our idiom six doors.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Chamberlain Eunuch cried to the old woman, “I know neither slave girl nor anyone else; and none shall enter here without my searching him according to the King’s commands.” Then quoth she, feigning to be angry, “I thought thee a man of sense and good breeding; but, if thou be changed, I will let the Princess know of it and tell her how thou hinderest her slave girl;” and she cried out to Taj al-Muluk, saying, “Pass on, O damsel!” So he passed on into the vestibule as she bade him, whilst the Eunuch was silent and said no more. The Prince counted five doors and entered the sixth where he found the Princess Dunya standing and awaiting him. As soon as she saw him, she knew him and clasped him to her breast, and he clasped her to his bosom. Presently the old woman came in to them, having made a pretext to dismiss the Princess’s slave girls for fear of disgrace; and the Lady Dunya said to her, “Be thou our door keeper!” So she and Taj al-Muluk abode alone together and ceased not kissing and embracing and twining leg with leg till dawn.1 When day drew near, she left him and, shutting the door upon him, passed into another chamber, where she sat down as was her wont, whilst her slave women came in to her, and she attended to their affairs and conversed with them. Then she said to them, “Go forth from me now, for I wish to amuse myself in privacy.” So they withdrew and she betook herself to Taj al-Muluk, and the old woman brought them food, of which they ate and returned to amorous dalliance till dawn. Then the door was locked upon him as on the day before; and they ceased not to do thus for a whole month. This is how it fared with Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya; but as regards the Wazir and Aziz when they found that the Prince had gone to the Palace of the King’s daughter and there delayed all the while, they concluded that he would never return from it and that he was lost for ever; and Aziz said to the Wazir, “O my father, what shall we do?” He replied, “O my son, this is a difficult matter, and except we return to his sire and tell him, he will blame us therefor.” So they made ready at once and forthright set out for the Green Land and the Country of the Two Columns, and sought Sulayman Shah’s capital. And they traversed the valleys night and day till they went in to the King, and acquainted him with what had befallen his son and how from the time he entered the Princess’s Palace they had heard no news of him. At this the King was as though the Day of Doom had dawned for him and regret was sore upon him, and he proclaimed a Holy War2 throughout his realm. After which he sent forth his host without the town and pitched tents for them and took up his abode in his pavilion, whilst the levies came from all parts of the kingdom; for his subjects loved him by reason of his great justice and beneficence. Then he marched with an army walling the horizon, and departed in quest of his son. Thus far concerning them; but as regards Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya the two remained as they were half a year’s time, whilst every day they redoubled in mutual affection; and love and longing and passion and desire so pressed upon Taj al Muluk, that at last he opened his mind and said to her, “Know, O beloved of my heart and vitals, that the longer I abide with thee, the more love and longing and passion and desire increase on me, for that I have not yet fulfilled the whole of my wish.” Asked she, “What then wouldst thou have, O light of my eyes and fruit of my vitals? If thou desire aught beside kissing and embracing and entwining of legs with legs, do what pleaseth thee; for, by Allah, no partner hath any part in us.”3 But he answered “It is not that I wish: I would fain acquaint thee with my true story. Know, then, that I am no merchant, nay, I am a King the son of a King, and my father’s name is the supreme King Sulayman Shah, who sent his Wazir ambassador to thy father, to demand thee in marriage for me, but when the news came to thee thou wouldst not consent.” Then he told her his past from first to last, nor is there any avail in a twice told tale, and he added, “And now I wish to return to my father, that he may send an ambassador to thy sire, to demand thee in wedlock for me, so we may be at ease.” When she heard these words, she joyed with great joy because it suited with her own wishes, and they passed the night on this understanding. But it so befel by the decree of Destiny that sleep overcame them that night above all nights and they remained till the sun had risen. Now at this hour, King Shahriman was sitting on his cushion of estate, with his Emirs and Grandees before him, when the Syndic of the goldsmiths presented himself between his hands, carrying a large box. And he advanced and opening it in presence of the King, brought out therefrom a casket of fine work worth an hundred thousand diners, for that which was therein of precious stones, rubies and emeralds beyond the competence of any sovereign on earth to procure. When the King saw this, he marvelled at its beauty; and, turning to the Chief Eunuch (him with whom the old woman had had to do), said to him, “O Kafur,4 take this casket and wend with it to the Princess Dunya.” The Castrato took the casket and repairing to the apartment of the King’s daughter found the door shut and the old woman lying asleep on the threshold; whereupon said he, “What! sleeping at this hour?” When the old woman heard the Eunuch’s voice she started from sleep and was terrified and said to him, “Wait till I fetch the key.” Then she went forth and fled for her life. Such was her case; but as regards the Epicene he, seeing her alarm, lifted the door off its hinge pins,5 and entering found the Lady Dunya with her arms round the neck of Taj al-Muluk and both fast asleep. At this sight he was confounded and was preparing to return to the King, when the Princess awoke, and seeing him, was terrified and changed colour and waxed pale, and said to him, “O Kafur, veil thou what Allah hath veiled!”6 But he replied, “I cannot conceal aught from the King”; and, locking the door on them, returned to Shahriman, who asked him, “Hast thou given the casket to the Princess?” Answered the Eunuch, “Take the casket, here it is for I cannot conceal aught from thee. Know that I found a handsome young man by the side of the Princess and they two asleep in one bed and in mutual embrace.” The King commanded them to be brought into the presence and said to them, “What manner of thing is this?” and, being violently enraged, seized a dagger and was about to strike Taj al-Muluk with it, when the Lady Dunya threw herself upon him and said to her father, “Slay me before thou slayest him.” The King reviled her and commended her to be taken back to her chamber: then he turned to Taj al-Muluk and said to him, “Woe to thee! whence art thou? Who is thy father and what hath emboldened thee to debauch my daughter?” Replied the Prince, “Know, O King, that if thou put me to death, thou art a lost man, and thou and all in thy dominions will repent the deed.” Quoth the King, “How so?”; and quoth Taj al-Muluk “Know that I am the son of King Sulayman Shah, and ere thou knowest it, he will be upon thee with his horse and foot.” When King Shahriman heard these words he would have deferred killing Taj al-Muluk and would rather have put him in prison, till he should look into the truth of his words; but his Wazir said to him, “O King of the Age, it is my opinion that thou make haste to slay this gallows bird who dares debauch the daughters of Kings.” So the King cried to the headsman, “Strike off his head; for he is a traitor.” Accordingly, the herdsman took him and bound him fast and raised his hand to the Emirs, signing to consult them, a first and a second signal, thinking thereby to gain time in this matter;7 but the King cried in anger to him, “How long wilt thou consult others? If thou consult them again I will strike off thine own head.;’ So the headsman raised his hand till the hair of his armpit showed’ and was about to smite his neck — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 They refrained from the highest enjoyment, intending to marry.
2 Arab. “Jihád,” lit. fighting against something; Koranically, fighting against infidels non — believers in Al-lslam (chaps. Ix. 1). But the “Mujáhidún” who wage such war are forbidden to act aggressively (ii. 186). Here it is a war to save a son.
3 The lady proposing extreme measures is characteristic: Egyptians hold, and justly enough, that their women are more amorous than men.
4 “O Camphor,” an antiphrase before noticed. The vulgar also say “Yá Taljí”=O snowy (our snowball), the polite “Ya Abú Sumrah!” =O father of brownness.
5 i.e. which fit into sockets in the threshold and lintel and act as hinges. These hinges have caused many disputes about how they were fixed, for instance in caverns without moveable lintel or threshold. But one may observe that the upper projections are longer than the lower and that the door never fits close above, so by lifting it up the inferior pins are taken out of the holes. It is the oldest form and the only form known to the Ancients. In Egyptian the hinge is called Akab=the heel, hence the proverb Wakaf’ al-báb alá ‘akabin; the door standeth on its heel; i.e. every thing in proper place.
6 Hence the addresses to the Deity: Yá Sátir and Yá Sattár — Thou who veilest the sins of Thy Servants! said e.g., when a woman is falling from her donkey, etc.
7 A necessary precaution, for the headsman who would certainly lose his own head by overhaste.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the headsman raised his hand to smite off his head when behold, loud cries arose and the folk closed their shops; whereupon the King said to the headsman, “Wait awhile,” and despatched one to learn the news. The messenger fared forth and presently returned and reported, “I saw an army like the dashing sea with its clashing surge: and their horses curvetting till earth trembleth with the tramp; and I know no more of them.” When the King heard this, he was confounded and feared for his realm lest it should be torn from him; so he turned to his Minister and said, “Have not any of our army gone forth to meet this army?” But ere he had done speaking, his Chamberlains entered with messengers from the King who was approaching, and amongst them the Wazir who had accompanied Taj al-Muluk. They began by saluting the King, who rose to receive them and bade them draw near, and asked the cause of their coming; whereupon the Minister came forward from amongst them and stood before him and said “Know that he who hath come down upon thy realm is no King like unto the Kings of yore and the Sultans that went before.” “And who is he?” asked Shahriman, and the Wazir answered, “He is the Lord of justice and loyalty, the bruit of whose magnanimity the caravans have blazed abroad, the Sultan Sulayman Shah, Lord of the Green Land and the Two Columns and the Mountains of Ispahan; he who loveth justice and equity, and hateth oppression and iniquity. And he saith to thee that his son is with thee and in thy city; his son, his heart’s very core and the fruit of his loins, and if he find him in safety, his aim is won and thou shalt have thanks and praise; but if he have been lost from thy realm or if aught of evil have befallen him, look thou for ruin and the wasting of thy reign! for this thy city shall become a wold wherein the raven shall croak. Thus have I done my errand to thee and peace be with thee!” Now when King Shahriman heard from the messenger these words, his heart was troubled and he feared for his kingdom: so he cried out for his Grandees and Ministers, Chamberlains and Lieutenants; and, when they appeared, he said to them, “Woe to you! Go down and search for the youth.” Now the Prince was still under the headsman’s hands, but he was changed by the fright he had undergone. Presently, the Wazir, chancing to glance around, saw the Prince on the rug of blood and recognised him; so he arose and threw himself upon him, and so did the other envoys. Then they proceeded to loose his bonds and they kissed his hands and feet, whereupon Taj al-Muluk opened his eyes and, recognising his father’s Wazir and his friend Aziz, fell down a fainting for excess of delight in them. When King Shahriman made sure that the coming of this army was indeed because of this youth, he was confounded and feared with great fear; so he went up to Taj al-Muluk and, kissing his head, said to him, “O my son, be not wroth with me, neither blame the sinner for his sin; but have compassion on my grey hairs, and waste not my realm.” Whereupon Taj al-Muluk drew near unto him and kissing his hand, replied, “No harm shall come to thee, for indeed thou art to me as my father; but look that nought befal my beloved, the Lady Dunya!” Rejoined the King, “O my lord! fear not for her; naught but joy shall betide her;” and he went on to excuse himself and made his peace with Sulayman Shah’s Wazir to whom he promised much money, if he would conceal from the King what he had seen. Then he bade his Chief Officers take the Prince with them and repair to the Hammam and clothe him in one of the best of his own suits and bring him back speedily. So they obeyed his bidding and bore him to the bath and clad him in the clothes which King Shahriman had set apart for him; and brought him back to the presence chamber. When he entered the King rose to receive him and made all his Grandees stand in attendance on him. Then Taj al-Muluk sat down to converse with his father’s Wazir and with Aziz, and he acquainted them with what had befallen him; after which they said to him, “During that delay we returned to thy father and gave him to know that thou didst enter the palace of the Princess and didst not return therefrom, and thy case seemed doubtful to us. But when thy sire heard of this he mustered his forces; then we came to this land and indeed our coming hath brought to thee relief in extreme case and to us great joy.” Quoth he, “Good fortune hath attended your every action, first and last.” While this was doing King Shahriman went in to his daughter Princess Dunya, and found her wailing and weeping for Taj al-Muluk. Moreover, she had taken a sword and fixed the hilt in the ground and had set the point to the middle of her heart between her breasts; and she bent over the blade saying, “Needs must I slay myself and not survive my beloved.” When her father entered and saw her in this case, he cried out to her, saying, “O Princess of kings’ daughters, hold thy hand and have ruth on thy sire and the folk of thy realm!” Then he came up to her and continued, “Let it not be that an ill thing befal thy father for thy sake!” And he told her the whole tale that her lover was the son of King Sulayman Shah and sought her to wife and he added, “The marriage waiteth only for thy consent.” Thereat she smiled and said, “Did I not tell thee that he was the son of a Sultan? By Allah, there is no help for it but that I let him crucify thee on a bit of wood worth two pieces of silver!” Replied the King, “O my daughter, have mercy on me, so Allah have mercy on thee!” Rejoined she, “Up with you and make haste and go bring him to me without delay.” Quoth the King, “On my head and eyes be it!”; and he left her and, going in hastily to Taj al-Muluk, repeated her words in his ear.1 So he arose and accompanied the King to the Princess, and when she caught sight of her lover, she took hold of him and embraced him in her father’s presence and hung upon him and kissed him, saying, “Thou hast desolated me by thine absence!” Then she turned to her father and said, “Sawest thou ever any that could do hurt to the like of this beautiful being, who is moreover a King, the son of a King and of the free born,2 guarded against ignoble deeds?” There upon King Shahriman went out shutting the door on them with his own hand; and he returned to the Wazir and to the other envoys of Sulayman Shah and bade them inform their King that his son was in health and gladness and enjoying all delight of life with his beloved. So they returned to King Sulayman and acquainted him with this; whereupon King Shahriman ordered largesse of money and vivers to the troops of King Sulayman Shah; and, when they had conveyed all he had commanded, he bade be brought out an hundred coursers and an hundred dromedaries and an hundred white slaves and an hundred concubines and an hundred black slaves and an hundred female slaves; all of which he forwarded to the King as a present. Then he took horse, with his Grandees and Chief Officers, and rode out of the city in the direction of the King’s camp. As soon as Sultan Sulayman Shah knew of his approach, he rose and advanced many paces to meet him. Now the Wazir and Aziz had told him all the tidings, whereat he rejoiced and cried, “Praise be to Allah who hath granted the dearest wish of my son!” Then King Sulayman took King Shahriman in his arms and seated him beside himself on the royal couch, where they conversed awhile and had pleasure in each other’s conversation. Presently food was set before them, and they ate till they were satisfied; and sweetmeats and dried fruits were brought, and they enjoyed their dessert. And after a while came to them Taj al-Muluk, richly dressed and adorned, and when his father saw him, he stood up and embraced him and kissed him. Then all who were sitting rose to do him honour; and the two Kings seated him between them and they sat conversing a while, after which quoth King Sulayman Shah to King Shahriman, “I desire to have the marriage contract between my son and thy daughter drawn up in the presence of witnesses, that the wedding may be made public, even as is the custom of Kings.” “I hear and I obey,” quoth King Shahriman and thereon summoned the Kazi and the witnesses, who came and wrote out the marriage contract between Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya. Then they gave bakhshish3 of money and sweetmeats; and lavished incense and essences; and indeed it was a day of joy and gladness and all the grandees and soldiers rejoiced therein. Then King Shahriman proceeded to dower and equip his daughter; and Taj al-Muluk said to his sire, “Of a truth, this young man Aziz is of the generous and hath done me a notable service, having borne weariness with me; and he hath travelled with me and hath brought me to my desire. He ceased never to show sufferance with me and exhort me to patience till I accomplished my intent; and now he hath abided with us two whole years, and he cut off from his native land. So now I purpose to equip him with merchandise, that he may depart hence with a light heart; for his country is nearhand.” Replied his father, “Right is thy rede;” so they made ready an hundred loads of the richest stuffs and the most costly, and Taj al-Muluk presented them with great store of money to Aziz, and farewelled him, saying, “O my brother and my true friend! take these loads and accept them from me by way of gift and token of affection, and go in peace to thine own country.” Aziz accepted the presents and kissing the ground between the hands of the Prince and his father bade them adieu. Moreover, Taj al-Muluk mounted and accompanied him three miles on his homeward way as a proof of amity, after which Aziz conjured him to turn back, saying, “By Allah, O my master, were it not for my mother, I never would part from thee! But, good my lord! leave me not without news of thee.” Replied Taj al-Muluk, “So be it!” Then the Prince returned to the city and Aziz journeyed on till he came to his native town; and he entered it and ceased not faring till he went in to his mother and found that she had built him a monument in the midst of the house and used to visit it continually. When he entered, he saw her with hair dishevelled and dispread over the tomb, weeping and repeating these lines,
“Indeed I’m strong to bear whate’er befal;
But weak to bear such parting’s dire mischance:
What heart estrangement of the friend can bear?
What strength withstand assault of severance?”
Then sobs burst from her breast, and she recited also these couplets,
“What’s this? I pass by tombs, and fondly greet
My friends’ last homes, but send they no reply:
For saith each friend, ‘Reply how can I make
When pledged to clay and pawned to stones I lie?
Earth has consumed my charms and I forget
Thy love, from kith and kin poor banisht I.’ ”
While she was thus, behold, Aziz came in to her and when she saw him, she fell down, fainting for very joy. He sprinkled water on her face till she revived and rising, took him in her arms and strained him to her breast, whilst he in like manner embraced her. Then he greeted her and she greeted him, and she asked the reason of his long absence, whereupon he told her all that had befallen him from first to last and informed her how Taj al-Muluk had given him an hundred loads of monies and stuffs. At this she rejoiced, and Aziz abode with his mother in his native town, weeping for what mishaps had happened to him with the daughter of Dalilah the Wily One, even her who had castrated4 him. Such was the case with Aziz; but as regards Taj al-Muluk he went in unto his beloved, the Princess Dunya, and abated her maidenhead. Then King Shahriman proceeded to equip his daughter for her journey with her husband and father in law, and bade bring them provaunt and presents and rarities. So they loaded their beasts and set forth, whilst King Shahriman escorted them, by way of farewell, three days’ journey on their way, till King Shah Sulayman conjured him to return. So he took leave of them and turned back, and Taj al-Muluk and his wife and father fared for wards night and day, with their troops, till they drew near their capital. As soon as the news of their coming spread abroad, the folk decorated for them the city — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The passage has also been rendered, “and rejoiced him by what he said” (Lane i, 600).
2 Arab. “Hurr”=noble, independent (opp. to ‘Abd=a servile) often used to express animæ nobilitas as in Acts xvii. 11; where the Berœans were “more noble” than the Thessalonians. The Princess means that the Prince would not lie with her before marriage.
3 The Persian word is now naturalized as Anglo–Egypeian.
4 Arab. “khassat hu” = removed his testicles, gelded him.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Shah Sulayman drew near his capital, the folk decorated the city for him and for his son. So they entered in state and the King, sitting on his throne with his son by his side, gave alms and largesse and loosed all who were in his jails. Then he held a second bridal for his son, and the sound of the singing women and players upon instruments was never silent for a whole month, and the tire women stinted not to adorn the Lady Dunya and display her in various dresses; and she tired not of the displaying nor did the women weary of gazing on her. Then Taj al-Muluk, after having foregathered awhile with his father and mother, took up his sojourn with his wife, and they abode in all joyance of life and in fairest fortune, till there came to them the Destroyer of all delights.1 Now when the Wazir Dandan had ended the tale of Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya, Zau al-Makan said to him, “Of a truth, it is the like of thee who lighten the mourner’s heart and who deserve to be the boon companions of Kings and to guide their policy in the right way.” All this befel and they were still besieging Constantinople, where they lay four whole years, till they yearned after their native land; and the troops murmured, being weary of vigil and besieging and the endurance of fray and foray by night and by day. Then King Zau al-Makan summoned Rustam and Bahram and Tarkash, and when they were in presence bespoke them thus, “Know that we have lain here all these years and we have not won to our wish; nay, we have but gained increase of care and concern; for indeed we came, thinking to take our man bote for King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and in so doing my brother Sharrkan was slain; so is our sorrow grown to sorrows twain and our affliction to afflictions twain. All this came of the old woman Zat al-Dawahi, for it was she who slew the Sultan in his kingdom and carried off his wife, the Queen Sophia; nor did this suffice her, but she must put another cheat on us and cut the throat of my brother Sharrkan and indeed I have bound myself and sworn by the solemnest oaths that there is no help but I take blood wit from her. What say ye? Ponder my address and answer me.” Then they bowed their heads and answered, “It is for the Wazir Dandan to opine.” So the Minister came forward and said, “Know O King of the Age! it booteth us nought to tarry here; and ’tis my counsel that we strike camp and return to our own country, there to abide for a certain time and after that we should return for a razzia upon the worshippers of idols.” Replied the King, “This rede is right, for indeed the folk weary for a sight of their families, and I am an other who is also troubled with yearning after my son Kanmakan and my brother ‘s daughter Kuzia Fakan, for she is in Damascus and I know not how is her case.” When the troops heard this report, they rejoiced and blessed the Wazir Dandan. Then the King bade the crier call the retreat after three days. They fell to preparing for the march, and, on the fourth day, they beat the big drums and unfurled the banners and the army set forth, the Wazir Danden in the van and the King riding in the mid battle, with the Grand Chamberlain by his side; and all journeyed without ceasing, night and day, till they reached Baghdad city. The folk rejoiced in their return, and care and fear ceased from them whilst the stay at homes met the absentees and each Emir betook him to his own house. As for Zau al-Makan he marched up to the Palace and went in to his son Kanmakan, who had now reached the age of seven; and who used to go down to the weapon plain and ride. As soon as the King was rested of his journey, he entered the Hammam with his son, and returning, seated himself on his sofa of state, whilst the Wazir Dandan took up his station before him and the Emirs and Lords of the realm presented themselves and stood in attendance upon him. Then Zau al-Makan called for his comrade, the Fireman, who had befriended him in his wanderings; and, when he came into presence, the King rose to do him honour and seated him by his side. Now he had acquainted the Wazir with all the kindness and good turns which the Stoker had done him; and he found that the wight had waxed fat and burly with rest and good fare, so that his neck was like an elephant’s throat and his face like a dolphin’s belly. Moreover, he was grown dull of wit, for that he had never stirred from his place; so at first he knew not the King by his aspect. But Zau al-Makan came up to him smiling in his face, and greeted him after the friendliest fashion, saying, “How soon hast thou forgotten me?” With this the Fireman roused himself and, looking steadfastly at Zau al-Makan, made sure that he knew him; whereupon he sprang hastily to his feet and exclaimed, “O my friend, who hath made thee Sultan?” Then Zau al-Makan laughed at him and the Wazir, coming up to him expounded the whole story to him and said, “In good sooth he was thy brother and thy friend; and now he is King of the land and needs must thou get great good of him. So I charge thee, if he say, ‘Ask a boon of me,’ ask not but for some great thing; for thou art very dear to him.” Quoth the Fireman, “I fear lest, if I ask of him aught, he may not choose to give it or may not be able to grant it.” Quoth the Wazir, “Have no care; whatsoever thou askest he will give thee.” Rejoined the Stoker, “By Allah, I must at once ask of him a thing that is in my thought: every night I dream of it and implore Almighty Allah to vouchsafe it to me.” Said the Wazir, “Take heart; by Allah, if thou ask of him the government of Damascus, in place of his brother, he would surely give it thee and make thee Governor.” With this the Stoker rose to is feet and Zau al-Makan signed to him to sit; but he refused, saying, “Allah forfend! The days are gone by of my sitting in thy presence.’ Answered the Sultan, “Not so, they endure even now. Thou west in very deed the cause that I am at present alive and, by Allah, whatever thing most desired thou requirest of me, I will give that same to thee. But ask thou first of Allah, and then of me!” He said, “O my lord, I fear” “Fear not,” quoth the Sultan He continued, “I fear to ask aught and that thou shouldst refuse it to me and it is only” At this the King laughed and replied, “If thou require of me the half of my kingdom I would share it with thee: so ask what thou wilt and leave talking.” Repeated the Fireman “I fear” “Don’t fear,” quoth the King. He went on, “I fear lest I ask a thing and thou be not able to grant it.” Upon this the Sultan waxed wroth and cried, “Ask what thou wilt.” Then said he, “I ask, first of Allah and then of thee, that thou write me a patent of Syndicate over all the Firemen of the baths in the Holy City, Jerusalem.” The Sultan and all present laughed and Zau al-Makan said, “Ask something more than this.” He replied, “O my lord, said I not I feared that thou wouldst not choose to give me what I should ask or that thou be not able to grant it?” Therewith the Wazir signed him with his foot once and twice and thrice, and every time he began, “I ask of thee” Quoth the Sultan, “Ask and be speedy.” So he said, “I ask thee to make me Chief of the Scavengers in the Holy City of Jerusalem, or in. Damascus town.” Then all those who were present fell on their backs with laughter and the Wazir beat him; whereupon he turned to the Minister and said to him, “What art thou that thou shouldest beat me? ’Tis no fault of mine: didst thou not thyself bid me ask some important thing?” And he added, “Let me go to my own land.” With this, the Sultan knew that he was jesting and took patience with him awhile; then turned to him and said, “O my brother, ask of me some important thing, befitting our dignity.” So the Stoker said, “O King of the Age, I ask first of Allah and then of thee, that thou make me Viceroy of Damascus in the place of thy brother;” and the King replied, “Allah granteth thee this.” Thereupon the Fireman kissed ground before him and he bade set him a chair in his rank and vested him with a viceroy’s habit. Then he wrote him a patent and sealed it with his own seal, and said to the Wazir Dandan, “None shall go with him but thou; and when thou makest the return journey, do thou bring with thee my brother’s daughter, Kuzia Fakan.” “Hearken ing and obedience,” answered the Minister; and, taking the Fire man, went down with him and made ready for the march. Then the King appointed for the Stoker servants and suite, and gave him a new litter and a princely equipage and said to the Emirs, “Whoso loveth me, let him honour this man and offer him a handsome present.” So each and every of the Emirs brought him his gift according to his competence; and the King named him Zibl Khán,2 and conferred on him the honourable surname of al-Mujáhid.3 As soon as the gear was ready, he went up with the Wazir Dandan to the King, that he might take leave of him and ask his permission to depart. The King rose to him and embraced him, and charged him to do justice between his subjects and bade him make ready for fight against the Infidels after two years. Then they took leave of each other and the King,4 the Fighter for the Faith hight Zibl Khan, having been again exhorted by Zau al-Makan to deal fairly with his subjects, set out on his journey, after the Emirs had brought him Mamelukes and eunuchs, even to five thousand in number, who rode after him. The Grand Chamberlain also took horse, as did Bahram, captain of the Daylamites, and Rustam, captain of the Persians, and Tarkash, captain of the Arabs, who attended to do him service; and they ceased not riding with him three days’ journey by way of honour. Then, taking their leave of him, they returned to Baghdad and the Sultan Zibl Khan and the Wazir Dandan fared on, with their suite and troops, till they drew near Damascus. Now news was come, upon the wings of birds, to the notables of Damascus, that King Zau al-Makan had made Sultan over Damascus a King named Zibl Khan and surnamed Al–Mujahid; so when he reached the city he found it dressed in his honour and everyone in the place came out to gaze on him. The new Sultan entered Damascus in a splendid progress and went up to the citadel, where he sat down upon his chair of state, whilst the Wazir Dandan stood in attendance on him, to acquaint him with the ranks of the Emirs and their stations. Then the Grandees came in to him and kissed hands and called down blessings on him. The new King, Zibl Khan, received them graciously and bestowed on them dresses of honour and various presents and bounties; after which he opened the treasuries and gave largesse to the troops, great and small. Then he governed and did justice and proceeded to equip the Lady Kuzia Fakan, daughter of King Sharrkan, appointing her a litter of silken stuff. Moreover he furnished the Wazir Dandan equally well for the return journey and offered him a gift of coin but he refused, saying, “Thou art near the time appointed by the King, and haply thou wilt have need of money, or after this we may send to seek of thee funds for the Holy War or what not.” Now when the Wazir was ready to march, Sultan al-Mujahid mounted to bid the Minister farewell and brought Kuzia Fakan to him, and made her enter the litter and sent with her ten damsels to do her service. Thereupon they set forward, whilst King “Fighter for the Faith” returned to his government that he might order affairs and get ready his munitions of war, awaiting such time as King Zau al-Makan should send a requisition to him. Such was the case with Sultan Zibl Khan, but as regards the Wazir Dandan, he ceased not faring forward and finishing off the stages, in company with Kuzia Fakan till they came to Ruhbah5 after a month’s travel and thence pushed on, till he drew near Baghdad. Then he sent to announce his arrival to King Zau al-Makan who, when he heard this, took horse and rode out to meet him. The Wazir Dandan would have dismounted, but the King conjured him not to do so and urged his steed till he came up to his side. Then he questioned him of Zibl Khan hight Al–Mujahid, whereto the Wazir replied that he was well and that he had brought with him Kuzia Fakan the daughter of his brother. At this the King rejoiced and said to Dandan, “Down with thee and rest thee from the fatigue of the journey for three days, after which come to me again.” Replied the Wazir “With joy and gratitude,” and betook himself to his own house, whilst the King rode up to his Palace and went in to his brother’s daughter, Kuzia Fakan, a girl of eight years old. When he saw her, he rejoiced in her and sorrowed for her sire; then he bade make for her clothes and gave her splendid jewelry and ornaments, and ordered she be lodged with his son Kanmakan in one place. So they both grew up the brightest of the people of their time and the bravest; but Kuzia Fakan became a maiden of good sense and understanding and knowledge of the issues of events, whilst Kanmakan approved him a generous youth and freehanded, taking no care in the issue of aught. And so they continued till each of them attained the age of twelve. Now Kuzia Fakan used to ride a horseback and fare forth with her cousin into the open plain and push forward and range at large with him in the word; and they both learnt to smite with swords and spike with spears. But when they had reached the age of twelve, King Zau al-Makan, having completed his preparations and provisions and munitions for Holy War, summoned the Wazir Dandan and said to him, “Know that I have set mind on a thing, which I will discover to thee, and I want thine opinion thereon; so do thou with speed return me a reply.” Asked the Wazir, “What is that, O King of the Age?”; and the other answered, “I am resolved to make my son Kanmakan Sultan and rejoice in him in my lifetime and do battle before him till death overtake me. What reckest thou of this?” The Wazir kissed the ground before the King and replied, “Know, O King and Sultan mine, Lord of the Age and the time! that which is in thy mind is indeed good, save that it is now no tide to carry it out, for two reasons; the first, that thy son Kanmakan is yet of tender years; and the second, that it often befalleth him who maketh his son King in his life time, to live but a little while thereafterward.6 And this is my reply.” Rejoined the King, “Know, O Wazir that we will make the Grand Chamberlain guardian over him, for he is now one of the family and he married my sister, so that he is to me as a brother.” Quoth the Wazir, “Do what seemeth good to thee: we have only to obey thine orders.” Then the King sent for the Grand Chamberlain whom they brought into the presence together with the Lords of the realm and he said to them, “Ye know that this my son Kanmakan is the first cavalier of the age, and that he hath no peer in striking with the sword and lunging with the lance; and now I appoint him to be Sultan over you and I make the Grand Chamberlain, his uncle, guardian over him.” Replied the Chamberlain, “I am but a tree which thy bounty hath planted”; and Zau al-Makan said, “O Chamberlain, verily this my son Kanmakan and my niece Kuzia Fakan are brothers’ children; so I hereby marry her to him and I call those present to witness thereof.” Then he made over to his son such treasures as no tongue can describe, and going in to his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, told her what he had done, whereat she was a glad woman and said, “Verily the twain are my children: Allah preserve thee to them and keep thy life for them many a year!” Replied he, “O my sister, I have accomplished in this world all my heart desired and I have no fear for my son! yet it were well thou have an eye on him, and an eye on his mother.” And he charged the Chamberlain and Nuzhat al-Zaman with the care of his son and niece and wife, and this he continued to do nights and days till he fell sick and deemed surely that he was about to drink the cup of death; so he took to his bed, whilst the Chamberlain busied himself with ordering the folk and realm. At the end of the year, the King summoned his son Kanmakan and the Wazir Dandan and said, “O my son, after my death this Wazir is thy sire; for know that I am about to leave this house of life transitory for the house of eternity. And indeed I have fulfilled my will of this world; yet there remaineth in my heart one regret which may Allah dispel through and by thy hands.” Asked his son, “What regret is that, O my father?” Answered Zau al-Makan, “O my son, the sole regret of me is that I die without having avenged thy grandfather, Omar bin al-Nu’uman, and thine uncle, Sharrkan, on an old woman whom they call Zat al-Dawahi; but, if Allah grant thee aid, sleep not till thou take thy wreak on her, and so wipe out the shame we have suffered at the Infidel’s hands; and beware of the old hag’s wile and do what the Wazir Dandan shall advise thee; because he from old time hath been the pillar of our realm.” And his son assented to what he said. Then the King’s eyes ran over with tears and his sickness redoubled on him; whereupon his brother in law, the Chamberlain took charge over the country and, being a capable man, he judged and bade and forbade for the whole of that year, while Zau al-Makan was occupied with his malady. And his sickness was sore upon him for four years, during which the Chief Chamberlain sat in his stead and gave full satisfaction to the commons and the nobles; and all the country blessed his rule. Such was the case with Zau al-Makan and the Chamberlain, but as regards the King’s son, he busied himself only with riding and lunging with lance and shooting with shaft, and thus also did the daughter of his uncle, Kuzia Fakan; for he and she were wont to fare forth at the first of the day and return at nightfall, when she would go in to her mother, and he would go in to his mother whom he ever found sitting in tears by the head of his father’s couch. Then he would tend his father all night long till daybreak, when he would go forth again with his cousin according to their wont. Now Zau al-Makan’s pains and sufferings were lonesome upon him and he wept and began versifying with these couplets,
“Gone is my strength, told is my tale of days
And, lookye! I am left as thou dost see:
In honour’s day most honoured wont to be,
And win the race from all my company
Would Heaven before my death I might behold
My son in seat of empire sit for me
And rush upon his foes, to take his wreak
With sway of sword and lance lunged gallantly:
In this world and the next I am undone,
Except the Lord vouchsafe me clemency.”
When he had ended repeating these verses, he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes and slept. Then saw he in his sleep one who said to him, “Rejoice, for thy son shall fill the lands with justest sway; and he shall rule them and him shall the lieges obey.”; Then he awoke from his dream gladdened by the good tidings he had seen, and after a few days, Death smote him, and because of his dying great grief fell on the people of Baghdad, and simple and gentle mourned for him. But Time passed over him, as though he had never been7 and Kanmakan’s estate was changed; for the people of Baghdad set him aside and put him and his family in a place apart. Now when his mother saw this, she fell into the sorriest of plights and said, “There is no help but that I go to the Grand Chamberlain, and I must hope for the aidance of the Subtle, the All–Wise!” Then she rose from her place and betook herself to the house of the Chamberlain who was now become Sultan, and she found him sitting upon his carpet. So she went in to his wife, Nuzhat al-Zaman, and wept with sore weeping and said unto her, “Verily the dead hath no friend! May Allah never bring you to want as long as your age and the years endure, and may you cease not to rule justly over rich and poor. Thine ears have heard and thine eyes have seen all that was ours of kingship and honour and dignity and wealth and fair fortune of life and condition; and now Time hath turned upon us, and fate and the world have betrayed us and wrought in hostile way with us, wherefore I come to thee craving thy favours, I from whom favours were craved: for when a man dieth, women and maidens are brought to despisal.” And she repeated these couplets,
“Suffice thee Death such marvels can enhance,
And severed lives make lasting severance:
Man’s days are marvels, and their stations are
But water-pits8 of misery and mischance.
Naught wrings my heart save loss of noble friends,
Girt round by rings of hard, harsh circumstance.”
When Nuzhat al-Zaman heard these words, she remembered her brother, Zau al-Makan, and his son Kanmakan, and, making her draw near to her and showing her honour, she said, “Verily at this moment, by Allah, I am grown rich and thou art poor; now by the Lord! we did not cease to seek thee out, but we feared to wound thy heart lest thou shouldest fancy our gifts to thee an alms gift. Withal, whatso weal we now enjoy is from thee and thy husband; so our house is thy house and our place thy place, and thine is all our wealth and what goods we have belong to thee.” Then she robed her in sumptuous robes and set apart for her a place in the Palace adjoining her own; and they abode therein, she and her son, in all delight of life. And Nuzhat al-Zaman clothed him also in Kings’ raiment and gave to them both especial handmaids for their service. After a little, she related to her husband the sad case of the widow of her brother, Zau al-Makan, whereat his eyes filled with tears and he said, “Wouldest thou see the world after thee, look thou upon the world after other than thyself. Then entreat her honourably and enrich her poverty.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Here ends the compound tale of Taj al-Muluk cum Aziz plus Azizah, and we return to the history of King Omar’s sons.
2 “Zibl” popularly pronounced Zabal, means “dung.” Khan is “Chief,” as has been noticed; “Zabbál,” which Torrens renders literally “dung-drawer,” is one who feeds the Hammam with bois-de-vache, etc.
3 i.e one who fights the Jihád or “Holy War”: it is equivalent to our “good knight.”
4 Arab. “Malik.” Azud al Daulah, a Sultan or regent under the Abbaside Caliph Al-Tá‘i li ’llah (regn. A.H. 363–381) was the first to take the title of “Malik.” The latter in poetry is still written Malík.
5 A townlet on the Euphrates, in the “awwal Shám,” or frontier of Syria.
6 i.e., the son would look to that.
7 A characteristic touch of Arab pathos, tender and true.
8 Arab. “Mawarid” from “ward” = resorting to pool or water-pit (like those of “Gakdúl”) for drinking, as opposed to “Sadr”=returning after having drunk at it. Hence the “Sádir” (part. act.) takes precedence of the “Wárid” in Al–Hariri (Ass. of the Badawi).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nuzhat Al–Zaman related to her husband the sad case of the widow of her brother, Zau al-Makan, the Chamberlain said, “Entreat her honourably and enrich her poverty.” Thus far concerning Nuzhat al-Zaman and her consort and the relict of Zau al-Makan; but as regards Kanmakan and his cousin Kuzia Fakan, they grew up and flourished till they waxed like unto two fruit-laden boughs or two shining moons; and they reached the age of fifteen. And she was indeed the fairest of maids who are modestly veiled, lovely faced with smooth cheeks graced, and slender waist on heavy hips based; and her shape was the shaft’s thin line and her lips were sweeter than old wine and the nectar of her mouth as it were the fountain Salsabíl1; even as saith the poet in these two couplets describing one like her,
“As though ptisane of wine on her lips honey dew
Dropt from the ripened grapes her mouth in clusters grew
And, when her frame thou doublest, and low bends her vine,
Praise her Creator’s might no creature ever knew.”
Of a truth Allah had united in her every charm: her shape would shame the branch of waving tree and the rose before her cheeks craved lenity; and the honey dew of her lips of wine made jeer, however old and clear, and she gladdened heart and beholder with joyous cheer, even as saith of her the poet,
“Goodly of gifts is she, and charm those perfect eyes,
With lashes shaming Kohl and all the fair ones Kohl’d2
And from those eyne the glances pierce the lover’s heart,
Like sword in Mír al-Muminína Ali’s hold.”
And (the relator continueth) as for Kanmakan, he became unique in loveliness and excelling in perfection no less; none could even him in qualities as in seemliness and the sheen of velour between his eyes was espied, testifying for him while against him it never testified. The hardest hearts inclined to his side; his eyelids bore lashes black as by Kohl; and he was of surpassing worth in body and soul. And when the down of lips and cheeks began to sprout bards and poets sang for him far and near,
“Appeared not my excuse till hair had clothed his cheek,
And gloom o’ercrept that side-face (sight to stagger!)
A fawn, when eyes would batten on his charms,
Each glance deals thrust like point of Khanjar-dagger.”
And saith another,
“His lovers’ souls have drawn upon his cheek
An ant that perfected its rosy light:
I marvel at such martyrs Lazá-pent
Who yet with greeny robes of Heaven are dight.’’3
Now it chanced one holiday, that Kuzia Fakan fared forth to make festival with certain kindred of the court, and she went surrounded by her handmaids. And indeed beauty encompassed her, the roses of her cheeks dealt envy to their mole; from out her smiling lips levee flashed white, gleaming like the chamomile4; and Kanmakan began to turn about her and devour her with his sight, for she was the moon of resplendent light. Then he took heart and giving his tongue a start began to improvise,
“When shall the disappointed heart be healed of severance,
And lips of Union smile at ceasing of our hard mischance?
Would Heaven I knew shall come some night, and with it surely bring
Meeting with friend who like myself endureth sufferance.”5
When Kuzia Fakan heard these couplets, she showed vexation and disapproval and, putting on a haughty and angry air, said to him, “Dost thou name me in thy verse, to shame me amongst folk? By Allah, if thou turn not from this talk, I will assuredly complain of thee to the Grand Chamberlain, Sultan of Khorasan and Baghdad and lord of justice and equity; that disgrace and punishment may befal thee!” Kanmakan made no reply for anger but he returned to Baghdad; and Kuzia Fakan also returned to her palace and complained of her cousin to her mother, who said to her, “O my daughter, haply he meant thee no harm, and is he aught but an orphan? Withal, he said nought of reproach to thee; so beware thou tell none of this, lest perchance it come to e Sultan’s ears and he cut short his life and blot out his name and make it even as yesterday, whose memory hath passed away.” However, Kanmakan’s love for Kuzia Fakan spread abroad in Baghdad, so that the women talked of it. Moreover, his breast became straitened and his patience waned and he knew not what to do, yet he could not hide his condition from the world. Then longed he to give vent to the pangs he endured, by reason of the lowe of separation; but he feared her rebuke and her wrath; so he began improvising,
“Now is my dread to incur reproaches, which
Disturb her temper and her mind obscure,
Patient I’ll bear them; e’en as generous youth his case to cure.’’
Beareth the burn of brand his case to cure.”6
And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 One of the fountains of Paradise (Koran, chaps. Ixxvi.): the word lit. means “water flowing pleasantly down the throat.” The same chapter mentions “Zanjabíl,” or the Ginger-fount, which to the Infidel mind unpleasantly suggests “ginger pop.”
2 Arab. “Takhíl” = adorning with Kohl.
3 The allusions are far-fetched and obscure as in Scandinavian poetry. Mr. Payne (ii. 314) translates “Naml” by “net.” I understand the ant (swarm) creeping up the cheeks, a common simile for a young beard. The lovers are in the Lazá (hell) of jealousy etc., yet feel in the Na’ím (heaven) of love and robe in green, the hue of hope, each expecting to be the favoured one.
4 Arab. “Ukhuwán,” the classical term. There are two chamomiles, the white (Bábúnaj) and the yellow (Kaysún), these however are Syrian names and plants are differently called in almost every Province of Arabia
5 In nomadic life the parting of lovers happens so frequently that it become. a stock topic in poetry and often, as here, the lover complains of parting when he is not parted. But the gravamen lies in the word “Wasl” which may mean union, meeting, reunion Or coition. As Ka’ab ibn Zuhayr began his famous poem with “Su’ád hath departed,” 900 imitators (says Al–Siyuti) adopted the Násib or address to the beloved and Su’ad came to signify a cruel, capricious mistress.
6 As might be expected from a nation of camel-breeders actual cautery which can cause only counter-irritation, is a favourite nostrum; and the Hadis or prophetic saying is “Akhir al-dawá (or al-tibb) al-Kayy” = cautery is the end of medicine-cure; and “Fire and sickness cannot cohabit.” Most of the Badawi bear upon their bodies grisly marks Of this heroic treatment, whose abuse not unfrequently brings on gangrene. The Hadis (Burckhardt, Proverbs, No. 30) also means “if nothing else avail, take violent measures.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Grand Chamberlain became Sultan they named him King Sásán; and after he had assumed the throne he governed the people in righteous way. Now as he was giving audience one day, Kanmakan’s verses came to his knowledge. Thereupon he repented him of the past and going in to his wife Nuzhat al-Zaman, said to her, “Verily, to join Halfah grass and fire,1 is the greatest of risks, and man may not be trusted with woman, so long as eye glanceth and eyelid quivereth. Now thy brother’s son, Kanmakan, is come to man’s estate and it behoveth us to forbid him access to the rooms where anklets trinkle, and it is yet more needful to forbid thy daughter the company of men, for the like of her should be kept in the Harim.” Replied she, “Thou sayest sooth, O wise King!” Next day came Kanmakan according to his wont; and, going in to his aunt saluted her. She returned his salutation and said to him, “O my son! I have some what to say to thee which I would fain leave unsaid; yet I must tell it thee despite my inclination.” Quoth he, “Speak;” and quoth she, Know then that thy sire the Chamberlain, the father of Kuzia Fakan, hath heard of the verses thou madest anent her, and hath ordered that she be kept in the Harim and out of thy reach; if therefore, O my son, thou want anything from us, I will send it to thee from behind the door; and thou shalt not look upon Kuzia Fakan nor shalt thou return hither from this day forth.” When he heard this he arose and withdrew with out speaking a single word; and, betaking himself to his mother related what his aunt had said. She observed, “This all cometh of thine overtalking. Thou knowest that the news of thy passion for Kuzia Fakan is noised abroad and the tattle hath spread everywhere how thou eatest their food and thereafter thou courtest their daughter.” Rejoined he, “And who should have her but I? She is the daughter of my father’s brother and I have the best of rights to her.” Retorted his mother, “These are idle words. Be silent, lest haply thy talk come to King Sasan’s ears and it prove the cause of thy losing her and the reason of thy ruin and increase of thine affliction. They have not sent us any supper to-night and we shall die an hungered; and were we in any land but this, we were already dead of famine or of shame for begging our bread.” When Kanmakan heard these words from his mother, his regrets redoubled; his eyes ran over with tears and he complained and began improvising,
“Minish this blame I ever bear from you:
My heart loves her to whom all love is due:
Ask not from me of patience jot or little,
Divorce of Patience by God’s House! I rue:
What blamers preach of patience I unheed;
Here am I, love path firmly to pursue!
Indeed they bar me access to my love,
Here am I by God’s ruth no ill I sue!
Good sooth my bones, whenas they hear thy name,
Quail as birds quailed when Nisus o’er them flew:2
Ah! say to them who blame my love that I
Will love that face fair cousin till I die.”
And when he had ended his verses he said to his mother, “I have no longer a place in my aunt’s house nor among these people, but I will go forth from the palace and abide in the corners of the city.” So he and his mother left the court; and, having sought an abode in the neighbourhood of the poorer sort, there settled; but she used to go from time to time to King Sasan’s palace and thence take daily bread for herself and her son. As this went on Kuzia Fakan took her aside one day and said to her, “Alas, O my naunty, how is it with thy son?” Replied she, “O my daughter, sooth to say, he is tearful-eyed and heavy hearted, being fallen into the net of thy love.” And she repeated to her the couplets he had made; whereupon Kuzia Fakan wept and said, “By Allah! I rebuked him not for his words, nor for ill-will to him, but because I feared for him the malice of foes. Indeed my passion for him is double that he feeleth for me; my tongue may not describe my yearning for him; and were it not for the extravagant wilfulness of his words and the wanderings of his wit, my father had not cut off from him favours that besit, nor had decreed unto him exclusion and prohibition as fit. However, man’s days bring nought but change, and patience in all case is most becoming: peradventure He who ordained our severance will vouchsafe us reunion!” And she began versifying in these two couplets,
“O son of mine uncle! same sorrow I bear,
And suffer the like of thy cark and thy care
Yet hide I from man what I suffer for pine;
Hide it too, and such secret to man never bare!”
When his mother heard this from her, she thanked her and blessed her: then she left her and acquainted her son with what she had said; whereupon his desire for her increased and he took heart, being eased of his despair and the turmoil of his love and care. And he said, “By Allah, I desire none but her!”; and he began improvising,
“Leave this blame, I will list to no flout of my foe!
I divulged a secret was told me to keep:
He is lost to my sight for whose union I yearn,
And I watch all the while he can slumber and sleep.”
So the days and nights went by whilst Kanmakan lay tossing upon coals of fire,3 till he reached the age of seventeen; and his beauty had waxt perfect and his wits were at their brightest. One night, as he lay awake, he communed with himself and said, “Why should I keep silence till I waste away and see not my lover? Fault have I none save poverty; so, by Allah, I am resolved to remove me from this region and wander over the wild and the word; for my position in this city is a torture and I have no friend nor lover therein to comfort me; wherefore I am determined to distract myself by absence from my native land till I die and take my rest after this shame and tribulation.” And he began to improvise and recited these couplets,
“Albeit my vitals quiver ‘neath this ban;
Before the foe myself I’ll ne’er unman!
So pardon me, my vitals are a writ
Whose superscription are my tears that ran:
Heigh ho! my cousin seemeth Houri may
Come down to earth by reason of Rizwan:
’scapes not the dreadful sword lunge of her look
Who dares the glancing of those eyne to scan:
O’er Allah’s wide spread world I’ll roam and roam,
And from such exile win what bread I can
Yes, o’er broad earth I’ll roam and save my soul,
All but her absence bear ing like a man
With gladsome heart I’ll haunt the field of fight,
And meet the bravest Brave in battle van!”
So Kanmakan fared forth from the palace barefoot and he walked in a short sleeved gown, wearing on his head a skull cap of felt4 seven years old and carrying a scone three days stale, and in the deep glooms of night betook himself to the portal of al-Arij of Baghdad. Here he waited for the gate being opened and when it was opened, he was the first to pass through it; and he went out at random and wandered about the wastes night and day. When the dark hours came, his mother sought him but found him not; whereupon the world waxt strait upon her for all that it was great and wide, and she took no delight in aught of weal it supplied. She looked for him a first day and a second day and a third day till ten days were past, but no news of him reached her. Then her breast became contracted and she shrieked and shrilled, saying, “O my son! O my darling! thou hast revived my regrets. Sufficed not what I endured, but thou must depart from my home? After thee I care not for food nor joy in sleep, and naught but tears and mourning are left me. O my son, from what land shall I call thee? And what town hath given thee refuge?” Then her sobs burst out, and she began repeating these couplets,
“Well learnt we, since you left, our grief and sorrow to
sustain,
While bows of severance shot their shafts in many a railing rain:
They left me, after girthing on their selles of corduwayne
To fight the very pangs of death while spanned they sandy plain:
Mysterious through the nightly gloom there came the moan of dove;
A ring dove, and replied I, ‘Cease thy plaint, how durst complain?’
If, by my life, her heart, like mine, were full of pain and pine
She had not decks her neck with ring nor sole with ruddy stain.5
Fled is mine own familiar friend, bequeathing me a store
Of parting pang and absence ache to suffer evermore.”
Then she abstained from food and drink and gave herself up to excessive tear shedding and lamentation. Her grief became public property far and wide and all the people of the town and country side wept with her and cried, “Where is thine eye, O Zau al- Makan?” And they bewailed the rigours of Time, saying, “Would Heaven we knew what hath befallen Kanmakan that he fled his native town, and chased himself from the place where his father used to fill all in hungry case and do justice and grace?” And his mother redoubled her weeping and wailing till the news of Kanmakan’s departure came to King Sasan. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Spaniards have the same expression: “Man is fire and woman is tinder.”
2 Arab. “Báshik” from Persian “Báshah” (accipiter Nisus) a fierce little species of sparrow-hawk which I have described in “Falconry in the Valley of the Indus” (p. 14, etc.).
3 Lit. “Coals (fit) for frying pan.”
4 Arab. “Libdah,” the sign of a pauper or religious mendicant. He is addressed “Yá Abu libdah!” (O father of a felt calotte!)
5 In times of mourning Moslem women do not use perfumes or dyes, like the Henna here alluded to in the pink legs and feet of the dove.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that came to King Sasan the tidings of the departure of Kanmakan, through the Chief Emirs who said to him, “Verily he is the son of our Sovran and the seed of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and it hath reached us that he hath exiled himself from the land.” When King Sasan heard these words, he was wroth with them and ordered one of them to be hanged by way of silencing him, whereat the fear of him fell upon the hearts of all the other Grandees and they dared not speak one word. Then he called to mind all the kindness that Zau al-Makan had done him, and how he had charged him with the care of his son; wherefore he grieved for Kanmakan and said, “Needs must I have search made for him in all countries.” So he summoned Tarkash and bade him choose an hundred horse and wend with them in quest of the Prince. Accordingly he went out and was absent ten days, after which he returned and said, “I can learn no tidings of him and have hit on no trace of him, nor can any tell me aught of him.” Upon this King Sasan repented him of that which he had done by the Prince; whilst his mother abode in unrest continual nor would patience come at her call: and thus passed over her twenty days in heaviness all. This is how it fared with these; but as regards Kanmakan, when he left Baghdad, he went forth perplexed about his case and knowing not whither he should go: so he fared on alone through the desert for three days and saw neither footman nor horseman; withal, his sleep fled and his wakefulness redoubled, for he pined after his people and his homestead. He ate of the herbs of the earth and drank of its flowing waters and siesta’d under its trees at hours of noontide heats, till he turned from that road to another way and, following it other three days, came on the fourth to a land of green leas, dyed with the hues of plants and trees and with sloping valley sides made to please, abounding with the fruits of the earth. It had drunken of the cups of the cloud, to the sound of thunders rolling loud and the song of the turtle-dove gently sough’d, till its hill slopes were brightly verdant and its fields were sweetly fragrant. Then Kanmakan recalled his father’s city Baghdad, and for excess of emotion he broke out into verse,
“I roam, and roaming hope I to return;
Yet of returning see not how or when:
I went for love of one I could not win,
Nor way of ‘scaping ills that pressed could ken.”
When he ended his recital he wept, but presently he wiped away his tears and ate of the fruits of the earth enough for his present need. Then he made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed the ordained prayers which he had neglected all this time; and he sat resting in that place through the livelong day. When night came he slept and ceased not sleeping till midnight, when he awoke and heard a human voice declaiming these couplets,
“What’s life to me, unless I see the pearly sheen
Of teeth I love, and sight that glorious mien?
Pray for her Bishops who in convents reign,
Vying to bow before that heavenly queen.
And Death is lighter than the loved one’s wrath,
Whose phantom haunts me seen in every scene:
O joy of cup companions, when they meet,
And loved and lover o’er each other lean!
E’en more in time of spring, the lord of flowers,
When fragrant is the world with bloom and green:
Drainer of vine-juice! up wi’ thee, for now
Earth is a Heaven where sweet waters flow.1”
When Kanmakan heard these distichs his sorrows surged up; his tears ran down his cheeks like freshets and flames of fire darted into his heart. So he rose to see who it was that spake these words, but saw none for the thickness of the gloom; whereupon passion increased on him and he was frightened and restlessness possessed him. He descended from his place to the sole of the valley and walked along the banks of the stream, till he heard the same voice sighing heavy sighs and reciting these couplets,
“Tho’ ’tis thy wont to hide thy love perforce,
Yet weep on day of parting and divorce!
Twixt me and my dear love were plighted vows;
Pledge of reunion, fonder intercourse:
With joy inspires my heart and deals it rest
Zephyr, whose coolness doth desire enforce.
O Sa’adá,2 thinks of me that anklet wearer?
Or parting broke she troth without remorse?
And say! shall nights foregather us, and we
Of suffered hardships tell in soft discourse?
Quoth she, ‘Thou’rt daft for us and fey’; quoth I,
‘ ‘Sain thee! how many a friend hast turned to corse!’
If taste mine eyes sweet sleep while she’s away,
Allah with loss of her these eyne accurse.
O wounds in vitals mine! for cure they lack
Union and dewy lips’ sweet theriack.”3
When Kanmakan heard this verse again spoken by the same voice yet saw no one, he knew that the speaker was a lover like unto himself, debarred from union with her who loved him; and he said to himself, “’Twere fitting that this man should lay his head to my head and become my comrade in this my strangerhood.”4 Then he hailed the speaker and cried out to him, saying, “O thou who farest in sombrest night, draw near to me and tell me thy tale haply thou shalt find me one who will succour thee in thy sufferings.” And when the owner of the voice heard these words, he cried out, “O thou that respondest to my complaint and wouldest hear my history, who art thou amongst the knights? Art thou human or Jinni? Answer me speedily ere thy death draw near for I have wandered in this desert some twenty days and have seen no one nor heard any voice but thy voice.” At these words Kanmakan said to himself, “This one’s case is like my case, for I, even I, have wandered twenty days, nor during my wayfare have I seen man or heard voice:” and he added, “I will make him no answer till day arise.” So he was silent, and the voice again called out to him, saying, “O thou that callest, if thou be of the Jinn fare in peace and, if thou be man, stay awhile till the day break stark and the night flee with the dark.” The speaker abode in his place and Kanmakan did likewise and the twain in reciting verses never failed, and wept tears that railed till the light of day began loom and the night departed with its gloom. Then Kanmakan looked at the other and found him to be of the Badawi Arabs, a youth in the flower of his age; clad in worn clothes and bearing in baldrick a rusty sword which he kept sheathed, and the signs of love longing were apparent on him. He went up to him and accosted him and saluted him, and the Badawi returned the salute and greeted him with courteous wishes for his long life, but somewhat despised him, seeing his tender years and his condition, which was that of a pauper. So he said to him, “O youth, of what tribe art thou and to whom art thou kin among the Arabs; and what is thy history that thou goest by night, after the fashion of knights? Indeed thou spakest to me in the dark words such as are spoken of none but doughty cavaliers and lion-like warriors; and now I hold thy life in hand. But I have compassion on thee by reason of thy green years; so I will make thee my companion and thou shalt go with me, to do me service.” When Kanmakan heard him speak these unseemly words, after showing him such skill in verse, he knew that he despised him and would presume with him; therefore he answered him with soft and well-chosen speech, saying, “O Chief of the Arabs, leave my tenderness of age and tell me why thou wanderest by night in the desert reciting verses. Thou talkest, I see, of my serving thee; who then art thou and what moved thee to talk this wise?” Answered he, “Hark ye, boy! I am Sabbáh, son of Rammáh bin Humám.5 My people are of the Arabs of Syria and I have a cousin, Najmah hight, who to all that look on her brings delight. And when my father died I was brought up in the house of his brother, the father of Najmah; but as soon I grew up and my uncle’s daughter became a woman, they secluded her from me and me from her, seeing that I was poor and without money in pouch. Then the Chiefs of the Arabs and the heads of the tribes rebuked her sire, and he was abashed before them and consented to give me my cousin, but upon condition that I should bring him as her dower fifty head of horses and fifty dromedaries which travel ten days6 without a halt and fifty camels laden with wheat and a like number laden with barley, together with ten black slaves and ten handmaids. Thus the weight he set upon me was beyond my power to bear; for he exacted more than the marriage settlement as by law established. So here am I, travelling from Syria to Irak, and I have passed twenty days with out seeing other than thyself; yet I mean to go to Baghdad that I may ascertain what merchant men of wealth and importance start thence. Then will I fare forth in their track and loot their goods, and I will slay their escort and drive off their camels with their loads. But what manner of man art thou?” Replied Kanmakan, “Thy case is like unto my case, save that my evil is more grievous than thine ill; for my cousin is a King’s daughter and the dowry of which thou hast spoken would not content her people, nor would they be satisfied with the like of that from me.” Quoth Sabbah, “Surely thou art a fool or thy wits for excess of passion are gathering wool! How can thy cousin be a King’s daughter? Thou hast no sign of royal rank on thee, for thou art but a mendicant.” Re joined Kanmakan, “O Chief of the Arabs, let not this my case seem strange to thee; for what happened, happened;7 and if thou desire proof of me, I am Kanmakan, son of King Zau al-Makan, son of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman Lord of Baghdad and the realm Khorasan; and Fortune banned me with her tyrant ban, for my father died and my Sultanate was taken by King Sasan. So I fled forth from Baghdad secretly, lest I be seen of any man, and have wandered twenty days without any but thyself to scan. So now I have discovered to thee my case, and my story is as thy story and my need as thy need.” When Sabbab heard this, he cried out, “O my joy, I have attained my desire! I will have no loot this day but thy self; for since thou art of the seed of Kings and hast come out in beggar’s garb, there is no help but thy people will seek thee; and, if they find thee in any one’s power, they will ransom thee with monies galore. So show me thy back, O my lad, and walk before me.” Answered Kanmakan, “O brother of the Arabs, act not on this wise, for my people will not buy me with silver nor with gold, not even with a copper dirham; and I am a poor man, having with me neither much nor little, so cease then to be upon this track and take me to thy comrade. Fare we forth for the land of Irak and wander over the world, so haply we may win dower and marriage portion, and we may seek and enjoy our cousins’ kisses and embraces when we come back.” Hearing this, Sabbah waxed angry; his arrogance and fury redoubled and he said, “Woe to thee! Dost thou bandy words with me, O vilest of dogs that be? Turn thee thy back, or I will come down on thee with clack!” Kanmakan smiled and answered, “Why should I turn my back for thee? Is there no justice in thee? Dost thou not fear to bring blame upon the Arab men by driving a man like myself captive, in shame and disdain, before thou hast proved him on the plain, to know if he be a warrior or of cowardly strain?” Upon this Sabbah laughed and replied, “By Allah, a wonder! Thou art a boy in years told, but in talk thou art old. These words should come from none but a champion doughty and bold: what wantest thou of justice?” Quoth Kanmakan, “If thou wilt have me thy captive, to wend with thee and serve thee, throw down thine arms and put off thine outer gear and come on and wrestle with me; and whichever of us throw his opponent shall have his will of him and make him his boy.” Then Sabbah laughed and said, “I think this waste of breath de noteth the nearness of thy death.” Then he arose and threw down his weapon and, tucking up his skirt, drew near unto Kanmakan who also drew near and they gripped each other. But the Badawi found that the other had the better of him and weighed him down as the quintal downweighs the diner; and he looked at his legs firmly planted on the ground, and saw that they were as two minarets8 strongly based, or two tent-poles in earth encased, or two mountains which may not he displaced. So he acknowledged himself to be a failure and repented of having come to wrestle with him, saying in himself, “Would I had slain him with my weapon!” Then Kanmakan took hold of him and mastering him, shook him till the Badawi thought his bowels would burst in his belly, and he broke out, “Hold thy hand, O boy!” He heeded not his words, but shook him again and, lifting him from the ground, made with him towards the stream, that he might throw him therein: where upon the Badawi roared out, saying, “O thou valiant man, what wilt thou do with me?”9 Quoth he, “I mean to throw thee into this stream: it will bear thee to the Tigris. The Tigris will bring thee to the river Isa and the Isa will carry thee to the Euphrates, and the Euphrates will land thee in thine own country; so thy tribe shall see thee and know thy manly cheer and how thy passion be sincere.” Then Sabbah cried aloud and said, “O Champion of the desert lair, do not with me what deed the wicked dare but let me go, by the life of thy cousin, the jewel of the fair!” Hearing this, Kanmakan set him on the ground, but when he found him self at liberty, he ran to his sword and targe and taking them up stood plotting in himself treachery and sudden assault on his adversary.10 The Prince kenned his intent in his eye and said to him, “I con what is in thy heart, now thou hast hold of thy sword and thy targe. Thou hast neither length of hand nor trick of wrestling, but thou thinkest that, wert thou on thy mare and couldst wheel about the plain, and ply me with thy skene, I had long ago been slain. But I will give thee thy requite, so there may be left in thy heart no despite; now give me the targe and fall on me with thy whinger; either thou shalt kill me or I shall kill thee.” “Here it is,” answered Sabbah and, throwing him the targe, bared his brand and rushed at him sword in hand; Kanmakan hent the buckler in his right and began to fend himself with it, whilst Sabbah struck at him, saying at each stroke, “This is the finishing blow!” But it fell harmless enow, for Kanmakan took all on his buckler and it was waste work, though he did not reply lacking the wherewithal to strike and Sabbah ceased not to smite at him with his sabre, till his arm was weary. When his opponent saw this, he rushed upon him and, hugging him in his arms, shook him and threw him to the ground. Then he turned him over on his face and pinioned his elbows behind him with the baldrick of his sword, and began to drag him by the feet and to make for the river. Thereupon cried Sabbah, “What wilt thou do with me, O youth, and cavalier of the age and brave of the plain where battles rage?” Answered he, “Did I not tell thee that it was my intent to send thee by the river to thy kin and to thy tribe, that thy heart be not troubled for them nor their hearts be troubled for thee, and lest thou miss thy cousin’s bride-feast!” At this Sabbah shrieked aloud and wept and screaming said, “Do not thus, O champion of the time’s braves! Let me go and make me one of thy slaves!” And he wept and wailed and began reciting these verses,
“I’m estranged fro’ my folk and estrangement’s long:
Shall I die amid strangers? Ah, would that I kenned!
I die, nor my kinsman shall know where I’m slain,
Die in exile nor see the dear face of my friend!”
Thereupon Kanmakan had compassion on him and said, “Make with me a covenant true and swear me an oath to be a comrade as due and to bear me company wheresoever I may go.” “’Tis well,” replied Sabbah and swore accordingly. Then Kanmakan loosed him and he rose and would have kissed the Prince’s hand; but he forbade him that. Then the Badawi opened his scrip and, taking out three barley scones, laid them before Kanmakan and they both sat down on the bank of the stream to eat.11 When they had done eating together, they made the lesser ablution and prayed; after which they sat talking of what had befallen each of them from his people and from the shifts of Time. Presently said Kanmakan, “Whither dost thou now intend?” Replied Sabbah, “I purpose to repair to Baghdad, thy native town, and abide there, until Allah vouchsafe me the marriage portion.” Rejoined the other, “Up then and to the road! I tarry here.” So the Badawi farewelled him and took the way for Baghdad, whilst Kanmakan remained behind, saying to himself, “O my soul, with what face shall I return pauper- poor? Now by Allah, I will not go back empty handed and, if the Almighty please, I will assuredly work my deliverance.” Then he went to the stream and made the Wuzu-washing and when prostrating he laid his brow in the dust and prayed to the Lord, saying, “O Allah! Thou who sendest down the dew, and feedest the worm that homes in the stone, I beseech Thee vouchsafe me my livelihood of Thine Omnipotence and the Grace of Thy benevolence!” Then he pronounced the salutation which closes prayer; yet every road appeared closed to him. And while he sat turning right and left, behold, he espied a horseman making towards him with bent back and reins slack. He sat up right and after a time reached the Prince; and the stranger was at the last gasp and made sure of death, for he was grievously wounded when he came up; the tears streamed down his cheeks like water from the mouths of skins, and he said to Kanmakan, “O Chief of the Arabs, take me to thy friendship as long as I live, for thou wilt not find my like; and give me a little water though the drinking of water be harmful to one wounded, especially whilst the blood is flowing and the life with it. And if I live, I will give thee what shall heal thy penury and thy poverty: and if I die, mayst thou be blessed for thy good intent.” Now under that horseman was a stallion, so noble a Rabite12 the tongue fails to describe him; and as Kanmakan looked at his legs like marble shafts, he was seized with a longing and said to himself, “Verily the like of this stallion13 is not to be found in our time.” Then he helped the rider to alight and entreated him in friendly guise and gave him a little water to swallow; after which he waited till he had taken rest and addressed him, saying, “Who hath dealt thus with thee?” Quoth the rider, “I will tell thee the truth of the case. I am a horse thief and I have busied myself with lifting and snatching horses all my life, night and day, and my name is Ghassan, the plague of every stable and stallion. I heard tell of this horse, that he was in the land of Roum, with King Afridun, where they had named him Al–Katúl and surnamed him Al Majnún.14 So I journeyed to Constantinople for his sake and watched my opportunity and whilst I was thus waiting, there came out an old woman, one highly honoured among the Greeks, and whose word with them is law, by name Zat al-Dawahi, a past mistress in all manner of trickery. She had with her this steed and ten slaves, no more, to attend on her and the horse; and she was bound for Baghdad and Khorasan, there to seek King Sasan and to sue for peace and pardon from ban. So I went out in their track, longing to get at the horse,15 and ceased not to follow them, but was unable to come by the stallion, because of the strict guard kept by the slaves, till they reached this country and I feared lest they enter the city of Baghdad. As I was casting about to steal the stallion lo! a great cloud of dust arose on them and walled the horizon. Presently it opened and disclosed fifty horsemen, gathered together to waylay merchants on the highway, and their captain, by name Kahrdash, was a lion in daring and dash; a furious lion who layeth knights flat as carpets in battle-crash.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Koran, chaps. ii. 23. The idea is repeated in some forty Koranic passages.
2 A woman’s name, often occurring. The “daughters of Sa’ada” are zebras, so called because “they resemble women in beauty and graceful agility.”
3 Arab. “Tiryák” from Gr. a drug against venomous bites. It was compounded mainly of treacle, and that of Baghdad and Irák was long held sovereign. The European equivalent, “Venice treacle,” (Theriaca Andromachi) is an electuary containing many elements. Badawin eat for counter-poison three heads of garlic in clarified butter for forty days. (Pilgrimage iii 77 )
4 Could Cervantes have read this? In Algiers he might easily have heard it recited by the tale-tellers. Kanmakan is the typical Arab Knight, gentle and valiant as Don Quixote Sabbáh is the Grazioso, a “Beduin” Sancho Panza. In the “Romance of Antar” we have a similar contrast with Ocab who says: “Indeed I am no fighter: the sword in my hand-palm chases only pelicans;” and, “whenever you kill a satrap, I’ll plunder him.”
5 i.e. The Comely, son of the Spearman, son of the Lion, or Hero.
6 Arab. “Ushári.” Old Purchas (vi., i. 9) says there are three kinds of camels (1 ) Huguin (=Hejin) of tall stature and able to carry 1,000 lbs. (2) Bechete (=Bukhti) the two-humped Bactrian before mentioned and, (3) the Raguahill (Rahíl) small dromedaries unfit for burden but able to cover a hundred miles in a day. The “King of Timbukhtu” (not “Bukhtu’s well” pop. Timbuctoo) had camels which reach Segelmesse (Sijalmas) or Darha, nine hundred miles in eight days at most. Lyon makes the Maherry (also called El–Heirie=Mahri) trot nine miles an hour for a long time. Other travellers in North Africa report the Sabayee (Saba’i=seven days weeder) as able to get over six hundred and thirty miles (or thirty-five caravan stages=each eighteen miles) in five to seven days. One of the dromedaries in the “hamlah” or caravan of Mr. Ensor (Journey through Nubia and Darfoor — a charming book) travelled one thousand one hundred and ten miles in twenty — seven days. He notes that his beasts were better with water every five to seven days, but in the cold season could do without drink for sixteen. I found in Al–Hijaz at the end of August that the camels suffered much after ninety hours without drink (Pilgrimage iii. 14). But these were “Júdi” fine-haired animals as opposed to “Khawár” (the Khowás of Chesney, p. 333), coarse-haired, heavy, slow brutes which will not stand great heat.
7 i.e. Fortune so willed it (euphemistically).
8 The “minaret” being feminine is usually compared with a fair young girl. The oldest minaret proper is supposed to have been built in Damascus by the Ommiade Caliph (No. X.) Al–Walid A.H. 86–96 (=705–715). According to Ainsworth (ii. 113) the second was at Kuch Hisar in Chaldea.
9 None of the pure Badawi can swim for the best of reasons, want of waters.
10 The baser sort of Badawi is never to be trusted: he is a traitor born, and looks upon fair play as folly or cowardice. Neither oath nor kindness can bind him: he unites the cruelty of the cat with the wildness of the wolf. How many Englishmen have lost their lives by not knowing these elementary truths! The race has not changed from the days of Mandeville (A.D. 1322) whose “Arabians, who are called Bedouins and Ascopards (?), are right felonious and foul, and of a cursed nature.” In his day they “carried but one shield and one spear, without other arm:” now, unhappily for travellers, they have matchlocks and most tribes can manufacture a something called by courtesy gunpowder.
11 Thus by Arab custom they become friends.
12 Our classical term for a noble Arab horse.
13 In Arab. “Khayl” is=horse; Husan, a stallion; Hudúd, a brood stallion; Faras, a mare (but sometimes used as a horse and meaning “that tears over the ground”), Jiyád a steed (noble); Kadísh, a nag (ignoble); Mohr a colt and Mohrah, a filly. There are dozens of other names but these suffice for conversation
14 Al–Katúl, the slayer; Al–Majnún, the mad; both high compliments in the style inverted.
15 This was a highly honourable exploit, which would bring the doer fame as well as gain.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the wounded rider spake thus to Kanmakan, “Then came out the same Kahrdash, and fell on the old woman and her men and bore down upon them bashing them, nor was it long before they bound her and the ten slaves and bore off their captives and the horse, rejoicing. When I saw this, I said to myself, ‘My pains were in vain nor did I attain my gain.’ However, I waited to see how the affair would fare, and when the old woman found herself in bonds, she wept and said to the captain, Kahrdash, ‘O thou doughty Champion and furious Knight, what wilt thou do with an old woman and slaves, now that thou hast thy will of the horse?’ And she beguiled him with soft words and she sware that she would send him horses and cattle, till he released her and her slaves. Then he went his way, he and his comrades, and I followed them till they reached this country; and I watched them, till at last I found an opportunity of stealing the horse, whereupon I mounted him and, drawing a whip from my wallet, struck him with it. When the robbers heard this, they came out on me and surrounded me on all sides and shot arrows and cast spears at me, whilst I stuck fast on his back and he fended me with hoofs and forehand,1 till at last he bolted out with me from amongst them like unerring shaft or shooting star. But in the stress and stowre I got sundry grievous wounds and sore; and, since that time, I have passed on his back three days without tasting food or sleeping aught, so that my strength is down brought and the world is become to me as naught. But thou hast dealt kindly with me and hast shown ruth on me; and I see thee naked stark and sorrow hath set on thee its mark, yet are signs of wealth and gentle breeding manifest on thee. So tell me, what and whence art thou and whither art thou bound?” Answered the Prince, “My name is Kanmakan, son of Zau al-Makan, son of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman. When my father died and an orphan lot was my fate, a base man seized the throne and became King over small and great.” Then he told him all his past from first to last; and the horse thief said to him for he pitied him, “By Allah, thou art one of high degree and exceeding nobility, and thou shalt surely attain estate sublime and become the first cavalier of thy time. If thou can lift me on horseback and mount thee behind me and bring me to my own land, thou shalt have honour in this world and a reward on the day of band calling to band,2 for I have no strength left to steady myself; and if this be my last day, the steed is thine alway, for thou art worthier of him than any other.” Quoth Kanmakan, By Allah, if I could carry thee on my shoulders or share my days with thee, I would do this deed without the steed! For I am of a breed that loveth to do good and to succour those in need; and one kindly action in Almighty Allah’s honour averteth seventy calamities from its doer. So make ready to set out and put thy trust in the Subtle, the All-Wise.” And he would have lifted him on to the horse and fared forward trusting in Allah Aider of those who seek aid, but the horse thief said, “Wait for me awhile. Then he closed his eyes and opening his hands, said I testify that there is no god but the God, and I testify that Mohammed is the Apostle of God!” And he added, “O glorious One, pardon me my mortal sin, for none can pardon mortal sins save the Immortal!” And he made ready for death and recited these couplets,
“I have wronged mankind, and have ranged like wind
O’er the world, and in wine-cups my life has past:
I’ve swum torrent course to bear off the horse;
And my guiles high places on plain have cast.
Much I’ve tried to win and o’er much my sin,
And Katul of my winnings is most and last:
I had hoped of this steed to gain wish and need,
But vain was the end of this journey vast.
I have stolen through life, and my death in strife
Was doomed by the Lord who doth all forecast
And I’ve toiled these toils to their fatal end
For an orphan, a pauper sans kith or friend!”
And when he had finished his verses he closed his eyes and opened his mouth; then with a single death-rattling he left this world. Thereupon Kanmakan rose and dug a grave and laid him in the dust; after which he went up to the steed and kissed him and wiped his face and joyed with exceeding joy, saying, “None hath the fellow of this stallion; no, not even King Sasan.” Such was the case with Kanmakan; but as regards King Sasan, presently news came to him that the Wazir Dandan had thrown off his allegiance, and with him half the army who swore that they would have no King but Kanmakan: and the Minister had bound the troops by a solemn covenant and had gone with them to the Islands of India and to Berber-land and to Black-land;3 where he had levied armies from far and near, like unto the swollen sea for fear and none could tell the host’s van from its rear. And the Minister was resolved to make for Baghdad and take the kingdom in ward and slay every soul who dare retard, having sworn not to return the sword of war to its sheath, till he had made Kanmakan King. When this news came to Sasan, he was drowned in the sea of appal, knowing that the whole state had turned against him, great and small; and his trouble redoubled and his care became despair. So he opened his treasuries and distributed his monies among his officers; and he prayed for Kanmakan’s return, that he might draw his heart to him with fair usage and bounty; and make him commander of those troops which ceased not being faithful to him, so might he quench the sparks ere they became a flame. Now when the news of this reached Kanmakan by the merchants, he returned in haste to Baghdad on the back of the aforesaid stallion, and as King Sasan sat perplexed upon his throne he heard of the coming of Kanmakan; whereupon he despatched all the troops and head-men of the city to meet him. So all who were in Baghdad fared forth and met the Prince and escorted him to the palace and kissed the thresholds, whilst the damsels and the eunuchs went in to his mother and gave her the fair tidings of his return. She came to him and kissed him between the eyes, but he said to her, “O mother mine, let me go to my uncle King Sasan who hath overwhelmed me with weal and boon.” And while he so did, all the palace-people and head-men marvelled at the beauty of the stallion and said, “No King is like unto this man.” So Kanmakan went in to King Sasan and saluted him as he rose to receive him; and, kissing his hands and feet, offered him the horse as a present. The King greeted him, saying, “Well come and welcome to my son Kanmakan! By Allah, the world hath been straitened on me by reason of thine absence, but praised be Allah for thy safety!” And Kanmakan called down blessings on him. Then the King looked at the stallion, Al–Katul hight, and knew him for the very horse he had seen in such and such a year whilst beleaguering the Cross-worshippers of Constantinople with Kanmakan’s sire, Zau al-Makan, that time they slew his uncle Sharrkan. So he said to the Prince, “If thy father could have come by this courser, he would have bought it with a thousand blood horses: but now let the honour return to the honourable. We accept the steed and we give him back to thee as a gift, for to him thou hast more right than any wight, being knightliest of knights.” Then King Sasan bade bring forth for him dresses of honour and led horses and appointed to him the chief lodging in the palace, and showed him the utmost affection and honour, because he feared the issue of the Wazir Dandan’s doings. At this Kanmakan rejoiced and shame and humiliation ceased from him. Then he went to his house and, going to his mother, asked, “O my mother, how is it with the daughter of my uncle?” Answered she, “By Allah, O my son, my concern for thine absence hath distracted me from any other, even from thy beloved; especially as she was the cause of thy strangerhood and thy separation from me.” Then he complained to her of his case, saying, “O my mother, go to her and speak with her; haply she will vouchsafe me her sight to see and dispel from me this despondency.” Replied his mother, “Idle desires abase men’s necks; so put away from thee this thought that can only vex; for I will not wend to her nor go in to her with such message.’ Now when he heard his mother’s words he told her what said the horse-thief concerning Zat al-Dawahi, how the old woman was then in their land purposing to make Baghdad, and added, “It was she who slew my uncle and my grandfather, and needs must I avenge them with man-bote, that our reproach be wiped out.” Then he left her and repaired to an old woman, a wicked, whorish, pernicious beldam by name Sa’adánah and complained to her of his case and of what he suffered for love of his cousin Kuzia Fakan and begged her to go to her and win her favour for him. “I hear and I obey,” answered the old hag and leaving him betook herself to Kuzia Fakan’s palace, that she might intercede with her in his behalf. Then she returned to him and said, “Of a truth Kuzia Fakan saluteth thee and promiseth to visit thee this night about midnight.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is a true and life-like description of horse-stealing in the Desert: Antar and Burckhardt will confirm every word. A noble Arab stallion is supposed to fight for his rider and to wake him at night if he see any sign of danger. The owner generally sleeps under the belly of the beast which keeps eyes and ears alert till dawn.
2 Arab. “Yaum al tanádi,” i.e. Resurrection-day.
3 Arab. “Bilád al-Súdan”=the Land of the Blacks, negro-land, whence the slaves came, a word now fatally familiar to English ears. There are, however, two regions of the same name, the Eastern upon the Upper Nile and the Western which contains the Niger Valley, and each considers itself the Sudan. And the reader must not confound the Berber of the Upper Nile, the Berderino who acts servant in Lower Egypt, with the Berber of Barbary: the former speaks an African language; the latter a “Semitic” (Arabic) tongue.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman came to Kanmakan and said, “Of a truth the daughter of thine uncle saluteth thee and she will visit thee this night about midnight;” he rejoiced and sat down to await the fulfilment of his cousin’s promise. But before the hour of night she came to him, wrapped in a veil of black silk, and she went in to him and aroused him from sleep, saying, “How canst thou pretend to love me, when thou art sleeping heart-free and in complete content?” So he awoke and said, “By Allah, O desire of my heart, I slept not but in the hope that thine image might visit my dreams!” Then she chid him with soft words and began versifying in these couplets,
“Hadst thou been leaf in love’s loyalty,
Ne’er haddest suffered sleep to seal those eyne:
O thou who claimest lover-loyalty,
Treading the lover’s path of pain and pine!
By Allah, O my cousin, never yet
Did eyes of lover sleep such sleep indign.”
Now when he heard his cousin’s words, he was abashed before her and rose and excused himself. Then they embraced and complained to each other of the anguish of separation; and they ceased not thus till dawn broke and day dispersed itself over the horizon; when she rose preparing to depart. Upon this Kanmakan wept and sighed and began improvising these couplets,
“O thou who deignest come at sorest sync,
Whose lips those teeth like necklaced pearls enshrine’
I kissed him1 thousand times and clips his waist,
And spent the night with cheek to cheek close li’en
Till to depart us twain came dawning day,
Like sword edge drawn from sheath in radiant line.”
And when he ended his poetry, Kuzia Fakan took leave of him and returned to her palace. Now certain of her damsels became aware of her secret, and one of these slave girls disclosed it to King Sasan, who went into Kuzia Fakan and, drawing his sabre upon her, would have slain her: but her mother Nuzhat al-Zaman entered and said to him, “By Allah, do her no harm, for if thou hurt her, the report will be noised among the folk and thou shalt become a reproach amongst the Kings of the age! Know thou that Kanmakan is no son of adultery, but a man of honour and nobility, who would not do aught that could shame him, and she was reared with him. So be not hasty; for verily the report is spread abroad, among all the palace-people and all the folk of Baghdad, how the Wazir Dandan hath levied armies from all countries and is on his way hither to make Kanmakan King.” Quoth Sasan, “By Allah, needs must I cast him into such calamity that neither earth shall support him nor sky shall shadow him! I did but speak him fair and show him favour because of my lieges and my lords, lest they incline to him; but right soon shalt thou see what shall betide.” Then he left her and went out to order the affairs of the realm. Such, then, was the case with King Sasan; but as regards Kanmakan, on the next day he came in to his mother and said, “O my mother! I am resolved to ride forth a raiding and a looting: and I will cut the road of caravans and lift horses and flocks, negroes and white slaves and, as soon as I have collected great store and my case is bettered galore, I will demand my cousin Kuzia Fakan in marriage of my uncle Sasan.” Replied she, “O my son, of a truth the goods of men are not ready to hand like a scape-camel;2 for on this side of them are sword-strokes and lance-lungings and men that eat the wild beast and lay countries waste and chase lynxes and hunt lions.” Quoth he, Heaven forefend that I turn back from my resolve, till I have won to my will! Then he despatched the old woman to Kuzia Fakan, to tell her that he was about to set out in quest of a marriage settle ment befitting her, saying to the beldam, “Thou needs must pray her to send me an answer.” “I hear and I obey,” replied the old woman and going forth, presently returned with Kuzia Fakan’s reply, which was, “She will come to thee at midnight.” So he abode awake till one half of the night was passed, when restlessness get hold on him, and before he was aware she came in to him, saying, “My life be thy ransom from wakefulness!” and he sprang up to receive her, exclaiming, “O desire of my heart, my life be thy redemption from all ills and evils!” Then he acquainted her, with his intent, and she wept: but he said, “Weep not, O daughter of my uncle; for I beseech Him who decreed our separation to vouchsafe us reunion and fair understanding.” Then Kanmakan, having fixed a day for departure, went in to his mother and took leave of her, after which came he down from his palace and threw the baldrick of his sword over his shoulder and donned turband and face-veil; and mounting his horse, Al–Katul, and looking like the moon at its full, he threaded the streets of Baghdad, till he reached the city gate. And behold, here he found Sabbah bin Rammah coming out of town; and his comrade seeing him, ran to his stirrup and saluted him. He returned his salutation, and Sabbah asked him, “O my brother, how camest thou by this good steed and this sword and clothes, whilst I up to present time have gotten nothing but my sword and target?” Answered Kanmakan, “The hunter returneth not but with quarry after the measure of his intention. A little after thy departure, fortune came to me: so now say, wilt thou go with me and work thine intent in my company and journey with me in this desert?” Replied Sabbah, “By the Lord of the Ka’abah, from this time forth I will call thee naught but ‘my lord’!” Then he ran on before the horse, with his sword hanging from his neck and his budget between his shoulder blades, and Kanmakan rode a little behind him; and they plunged into the desert, for a space of four days, eating of the gazelles and drinking water of the springs. On the fifth day they drew near a high hill, at whose foot was a spring-encampment3 and a deep running stream; and the knolls and hollows were filled with camels and cattle and sheep and horses, and little children played about the pens and folds. When Kanmakan saw this, he rejoiced at the sight and his breast was filled with delight; so he addressed himself to fight, that he might take the camels and the cattle, and said to Sabbah, “Come, fall with us upon this loot, whose owners have left it unguarded here, and do we battle for it with near and far, so haply may fall to our lot of goods some share.” Replied Sabbah, “O my lord, verily they to whom these herds belong be many in number; and among them are doughty horsemen and fighting footmen; and if we venture lives in this derring do we shall fall into danger great and neither of us will return safe from this bate; but we shall both be cut off by fate and leave our cousins desolate.” Then Kanmakan laughed and knew that he was a coward; so he left him and rode down the rise, intent on rapine, with loud cries and chanting these couplets,
“Oh a valiant race are the sons of Nu’umán,
Braves whose blades shred heads of the foeman-clan!4
A tribe who, when tried in the tussle of war,
Taketh prowess stand in the battle-van:
In their tents safe close gaberlunzie’s eyne,
Nor his poverty’s ugly features scan:
And I for their aidance sue of Him
Who is King of Kings and made soul of man.”
Then he rushed upon the she-camels like a he-camel in rut and drove all before him, sheep and cattle, horses and dromedaries. Therewith the slaves ran at him with their blades so bright and their lances so long; and at their head rode a Turkish horseman who was indeed a stout champion, doughty in fray and in battle chance and skilled to wield the nut-brown lance and the blade with bright glance. He drove at Kanmakan, saying, “Woe to thee! Knewest thou to whom these herds belong thou hadst not done this deed. Know that they are the goods of the band Grecian, the champions of the ocean and the troop Circassian; and this troop containeth none but valiant wights numbering an hundred knights, who have cast off the allegiance of every Sultan. But there hath been stolen from them a noble stallion, and they have vowed not to return hence without him.” Now when Kanmakan heard these words, he cried out, saying, “O villain, this I bestride is the steed whereof ye speak and after which ye seek, and ye would do battle with me for his sake’ So come out against me, all of you at once, and do you dourest for the nonce!” Then he shouted between the ears of Al–Katul who ran at them like a Ghul; whereupon Kanmakan let drive at the Turk5 and ran him through the body and threw him from his horse and let out his life; after which he turned upon a second and a third and a fourth, and also of life bereft them. When the slaves saw this, they were afraid of him, and he cried out and said to them, “Ho, sons of whores, drive out the cattle and the stud or I will dye my spear in your blood.” So they untethered the beasts and began to drive them out; and Sabbah came down to Kanmakan with loud voicing and hugely rejoicing; when lo! there arose a cloud of dust and grew till it walled the view, and there appeared under of it riders an hundred, like lions an-hungered. Upon this Sabbah took flight, and fled to the hill’s topmost height, leaving the assailable site, and enjoyed sight of the fight, saying, “I am no warrior; but in sport and jest I delight.”6 Then the hundred cavaliers made towards Kanmakan and surrounded him on all sides, and one of them accosted him, saying, “Whither goest thou with this loot?” Quoth he, “I have made it my prize and am carrying it away; and I forbid you from it, or come on to the combat, for know ye that he who is before you is a terrible lion and an honourable champion, and a sword that cutteth wherever it turneth!” When the horseman heard these words, he looked at Kanmakan and saw that he was a knight like a mane-clad lion in might, whilst his face was as the full moon rising on its fourteenth night, and velour shone from between his eyes. Now that horseman was the captain of the hundred horse, and his name was Kahrdash; and when he saw in Kanmakan the perfection of cavalarice with surpassing gifts of comeliness, his beauty reminded him of a beautiful mistress of his whose name was Fátin.7 Now she was one of the fairest of women in face, for Allah had given her charms and grace and noble qualities of all kinds, such as tongue faileth to explain and which ravish the hearts of men. Moreover, the cavaliers of the tribe feared her prowess and all the champions of that land stood in awe of her high spirit; and she had sworn that she would not marry nor let any possess her, except he should conquer her in combat (Kahrdash being one of her suitors); and she said to her father, “None shall approach me, save he be able to deal me over throw in the field and stead of war thrust and blow. Now when this news reached Kahrdash, he scorned to fight with a girl, fearing reproach; and one of his intimates said to him, “Thou art complete in all conditions of beauty and goodliness; so if thou contend with her, even though she be stronger than thou, thou must needs overcome her; for when she seeth thy beauty and grace, she will be discomfited before thee and yield thee the victory; for verily women have a need of men e’en as thou heedest full plain.” Nevertheless Kahrdash refused and would not contend with her, and he ceased not to abstain from her thus, till he met from Kanmakan that which hath been set down. Now he took the Prince for his beloved Fatin and was afraid; albeit indeed she loved him for what she had heard of his beauty and velour; so he went up to him and said, “Woe to thee,8 O Fatin! Thou comest here to show me thy prowess; but now alight from thy steed, that I may talk with thee, for I have lifted these cattle and have foiled my friends and waylaid many a brave and man of knightly race, all for the sake of thy beauty of form and face, which are without peer. So marry me now, that Kings’ daughters may serve thee and thou shalt become Queen of these countries.” When Kanmakan heard these words, the fires of wrath flamed up in him and he cried out, “Woe to thee, O Persian dog! Leave Fatin and thy trust and mistrust, and come to cut and thrust, for eftsoon thou shalt lie in the dust;” and so saying, he began to wheel about him and assail him and feel the way to prevail. But when Kahrdash observed him closely he knew him for a doughty knight and a stalwart in fight; and the error of his thought became manifest to him, whenas he saw the green down on his cheeks dispread like myrtles springing from the heart of a rose bright-red. And he feared his onslaught and quoth he to those with him, “Woe to you! Let one of you charge down upon him and show him the keen sword and the quivering spear; for know that when many do battle with one man it is foul shame, even though he be a kemperly wight and an invincible knight.” Upon this, there ran at Kanmakan a horseman like a lion in fight, mounted on a black horse with hoofs snow-white and a star on his forehead, the bigness of a dirham, astounding wit and sight, as he were Abjar, which was Antar’s destrier, even as saith of him the poet,
“The courser chargeth on battling foe,
Mixing heaven on high with the earth down low:9
As though the Morning had blazed his brow,
And he rends her vitals as quid pro quo.”
He rushed upon Kanmakan, and they wheeled about awhile, giving blows and taking blows such as confound the sprite and dim the sight; but Kanmakan was the first to smite the foe a swashing blow, that rove through turband and iron skull cap and reached his head, and he fell from his steed with the fall of a camel when he rolleth over. Then a second came out to him and offered battle, and in like guise a third, a fourth and a fifth, and he did with them all as he had done with the first. Thereupon the rest at once rushed upon him, for indeed they were roused by rage and wild with wrath; but it was not long before he had pierced them all with the point of his spear. When Kahrdash saw these feats of arms, he feared death; for he knew that the youth was stoutest of heart and concluded that he was unique among knights and braves; and he said to Kanmakan, “I waive my claim to thy blood and I pardon thee the blood of my comrades: so take what thou wilt of the cattle and wend thy ways, for thy firmness in fight moveth my ruth and life is better for thee than death.” Replied Kanmakan, “Thou lackest not of the generosity of the noble! but leave this talk and run for thy life and reck not of blame nor think to get back the booty; but take the straight path for thine own safety.” Thereupon Kahrdash waxed exceeding wroth, and rage moved him to the cause of his death; so he said to Kanmakan, “Woe to thee, an thou knew who I be, thou wouldst not wield these words in the open field. I am the lion to bash known as Kahrdash, he who spoileth great Kings and waylayeth all travellings and seizeth the merchants’ preciousest things. And the steed under thee is that I am seeking; and I call upon thee to tell me how thou camest by him and hast him in thy keeping.” Replied Kan makan, “Know thou that this steed was being carried to my uncle King Sasan, under the escort of an ancient dame high in rank attended by ten slaves, when thou fellest upon her and tookest the horse from her; and I have a debt of blood against this old woman for the sake of my grandfather King Omar bin al Nu’uman and my uncle King Sharrkan.’ “Woe to thee!” quoth Kahrdash, “who is thy father, O thou that hast no lawful mother?” Quoth he, “Know that I am Kanmakan, bin Zau al-Makan, son of Omar bin al-Nu’uman.” But when Kahrdash heard this address he said, “Thy perfection cannot be denied, nor yet the union in thee of knightly virtue and seemlihead,” and he added, “Fare in peace, for thy father showed us favour.” Rejoined Kanmakan, “By Allah, I will not deign to honour thee, O wretch I disdain, so far as to overcome thee in battle plain!” Upon this the Badawi waxed wroth and they drove at each other, shouting aloud, whilst their horses pricked their ears and raised their tails.10 And they ceased not clashing together with such a crash that it seemed to each as if the firmament were split in sunder, and they continued to strive like two rams which butt, smiting and exchanging with their spears thrust and cut. Presently Kahrdash foined at Kanmakan; but he evaded it and rejoined upon him and so pierced him through the breast that the spearhead issued from his back. Then he collected the horses and the plunder, and he cried out to the slaves, saying, “Up and be driving as hard as ye may!” Hearing this, down came Sabbah and, accosting Kanmakan, said to him, “Right well hast thou dight, O Knight of the age! Verily I prayed Allah for thee and the Lord heard my prayer.” Then he cut off Kahrdash’s head and Kanmakan laughed and said, “Woe to thee, O Sabbah! I thought thee a rider fain of fight.” Quoth the Badawi, “Forget not thy slave in the division of the spoil, so haply therewith I may marry my cousin Najmah.” Answered Kanmakan, “Thou shalt assuredly share in it, but now keep watch over the booty and the slaves.” Then he set out for his home and he ceased not journeying night and day till he drew near Baghdad city, and all the troops heard of Kanmakan, and saw what was his of loot and cattle and the horse-thief’s head on the point of Sabbah’s spear. Also (for he was a noted highwayman) the merchants knew Kahrdash’s head and rejoiced, saying, “Allah hath rid mankind of him!”; and they marvelled at his being slain and blessed his slayer. Thereupon all the people of Baghdad came to Kanmakan, seeking to know what adventures had befallen him, and he told them what had passed, whereupon all men were taken with awe of him and the Knights and champions feared him. Then he drove his spoil under the palace walls; and, planting the spear heel, on whose point was Kahrdash’s head, over against the royal gate, gave largesse to the people of Baghdad, distributing horses and camels, so that all loved him and their hearts inclined to him. Presently he took Sabbah and lodged him in a spacious dwelling and gave him a share of the loot; after which he went in to his mother and told her all that had befallen him in his last journey. Meanwhile the news of him reached the King, who rose from his levee and, shutting himself up with his chief officers, said to them, “Know ye that I desire to reveal to you my secret and acquaint you with the hidden facts of my case. And further know that Kanmakan will be the cause of our being uprooted from this kingdom, our birth place; for he hath slain Kahrdash, albeit he had with him the tribes of the Kurds and the Turks, and our affair with him will end in our destruction, seeing that the most part of our troops are his kinsmen and ye weet what the Wazir Dandan hath done; how he disowneth me, after all I have shown him of favours; and after being faithful he hath turned traitor. Indeed it hath reached me that he hath levied an army in the provinces and hath planned to make Kanmakan Sultan, for that the Sultanate was his father’s and his grandfather’s; and assuredly he will slay me without mercy.” Now when the Lords of the Realm heard from him these words, they replied, “O King, verily this man.11 is unequal to this, and did we not know him to have been reared by thee, not one of us would approve of him. And know thou that we are at thy commandment; if thou desire his death, we will do him die; and if thou wilt remove him, we will remove him.” Now when King Sasan heard this, he said, “Verily, to slay him were wise; but needs must ye swear an oath to it.” So all sware to slay Kanmakan without giving him a chance; to the end that, when the Wazir Dandan should come and hear of his death, his force might be weakened and he fail of his design. When they had made this compact and covenant with trim, the king honoured them with the highest honours and presently retired to his own apartments. But the officers deserted him and the troops refused their service and would neither mount nor dismount until they should espy what might befal, for they saw that most of the army was with the Wazir Dandan. Presently, the news of these things came to Kuzia Fakan and caused her much concern; so that she sent for the old woman who was wont to carry messages between her and her cousin, and when she came, bade her go to him and warn him of the plot. Whereto he replied, “Bear my salutation to the daughter of my uncle and say to her, ‘Verily the earth is of Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!), and He giveth it as heritage to whomsoever of His servants He willeth.’ How excellent is the saying of the sayer,
‘Allah holds Kingship! Whoso seeks without Him victory
Shall be cast out, with soul condemned to Hell of low degree:
Had I or any other man a finger breadth of land,
The rule were changed and men a twain of partner gods would see.’ ”
Then the old woman returned to Kuzia Fakan and told her his reply and acquainted her that he abode in the city. Meanwhile, King Sasan awaited his faring forth from Baghdad, that he might send after him some who would slay him; till it befel one morning that Kanmakan went out to course and chase, accompanied by Sabbah, who would not leave him night or day. He caught ten gazelles and among them one that had tender black eyes and turned right and left: so he let her go and Sabbah said to him, “Why didst thou free this gazelle?” Kanmakan laughed and set the others free also, saying, “It is only humane to release gazelles that have young, and this one turned not from side to side, save to look for her fawns: so I let her go and released the others in her honour.” Quoth Sabbah, “Do thou release me, that I may go to my people.” At this Kanmakan laughed and smote him with the spear butt on the breast, and he fell to the ground squirming like a snake. Whilst they were thus doing, behold, they saw a dust cloud spireing high and heard the tramp of horses; and presently there appeared under it a plump of knights and braves. Now the cause of their coming was this. Some of his followers had acquainted King Sasan with Kanmakan’s going out to the chase; so he sent for an Emir of the Daylamites, called Jámi’ and twenty of his horsemen; and gave them money and bade them slay Kanmaken. So when they drew near the Prince, they charged down upon him and he met them in mid-charge and killed them all, to the last man. And behold, King Sasan took horse and riding out to meet his people, found them all slain, whereat he wondered and turned back; when lo! the people of the city laid hands on him and bound him straitly. As for Kanmakan after that adventure, he left the place behind him and rode onward with Sabbah the Badawi. And the while he went, lo! he saw a youth sitting at the door of a house on his road and saluted him. The youth returned his greeting and, going into the house, brought out two platters, one full of soured milk and the other of brewis swimming in clarified butter; and he set the platter before Kanmakan, saying “Favour us by eating of our victual.” But he refused and quoth the young man to him, “What aileth thee, O man, that thou wilt not eat?” Quoth Kanmakan, “I have a vow upon me.” The youth asked, “What is the cause of thy vow?”, and Kanmakan answered, “Know that King Sasan seized upon my kingdom like a tyrant and an enemy, although it was my father’s and my grand father’s before me; yet he became master of it by force after my father’s death and took no count of me, by reason of my tender years. So I have bound myself by a vow to eat no man’s victual till I have eased my heart of my foe.” Rejoined the youth, “Rejoice, for Allah hath fulfilled thy vow. Know that he hath been prisoned in a certain place and methinks he will soon die.” Asked Kanmakan, “In what house is he confined?” “Under yon high dome,” answered the other. The Prince looked and saw the folk entering and buffeting Sasan, who was suffering the agonies of the dying. So he arose and went up to the pavilion and noted what was therein; after which he returned to his place and, sitting down to the proferred victual, ate what sufficed him and put the rest in his wallet. Then he took seat in his own place and ceased not sitting till it was dark night and the youth, whose guest he was slept; when he rose and repaired to the pavilion wherein Sasan was confined. Now about it were dogs guarding it, and one of them sprang at him; so he took out of his budget a bit of meat and threw it to him. He ceased not casting flesh to the dogs till he came to the pavilion and, making his way to where King Sasan was, laid his hand upon his head; whereupon he said in a loud voice, “Who art thou?” He replied, “I am Kanmakan whom thou stravest to kill; but Allah made thee fall into thine evil device. Did it not suffice thee to take my kingdom and the kingdom of my father, but thou must purpose to slay me?”12 And Sasan swore a false oath that he had not plotted his death and that the bruit was untrue. So Kanmakan forgave him and said to him, “Follow me.” Quoth he, “I cannot walk a single step for weakness.” Quoth Kanmakan, “If the case be thus we will get us two horses and ride forth, I and thou, and seek the open.” So he did as he said, and he took horse with Sasan and rode till day break, when they prayed the dawn prayer and fared on, and ceased not faring till they came to a garden, where they sat down and talked. Then Kanmakan rose to Sasan and said, “Is aught left to set thy heart against me?” “No, by Allah!” replied Sasan. So they agreed to return to Baghdad and Sabbah the Badawi said, “I will go before you, to give folk the fair tidings of your coming.” Then he rode on in advance, acquainting women and men with the good news; so all the people came out to meet Kanmakan with tabrets and pipes; and Kuzia Fakan also came out, like the full moon shining in all her splendour of light through the thick darkness of the night. So Kanmakan met her, and soul yearned to soul and body longed for body. There was no talk among the people of the time but of Kanmakan; for the Knights bore witness of him that he was the most valiant of the folk of the age and said, “It is not right that other than Kanmakan should be our Sultan, but the throne of his grandfather shall revert to him as it began.” Meanwhile Sasan went in to his wife, Nuzhat al-Zaman, who said to him, “I hear that the folk talk of nothing but Kanmakan and attribute to him such qualities as tongue never can.” He replied, “Hearing of a man is not like seeing a man. I have seen him, but have noted in him none of the attributes of perfection. Not all that is heard is said; but folk ape one another in extolling and cherishing him, and Allah maketh his praises to run on the lips of men, so that there incline to him the hearts of the people of Baghdad and of the Wazir Dandan, that perfidious and treacherous man; who hath levied troops from all lands and taketh to himself the right of naming a King of the country; and who chooseth that it shall be under the hand of an orphan ruler whose worth is naught.” Asked Nuzhat al-Zaman, “What then is it that thou purposest to do?”; and the King answered, “I mean to kill him, that the Wazir may be baulked of his intent and return to his allegiance, seeing nothing for it but my service.” Quoth she, “In good sooth perfidy with strangers is a foul thing and how much more with kith and kin! The righteous deed to do would be to marry him to thy daughter Kuzia Fakan and give heed to what was said of old time,
‘An Fate some person ‘stablish o’er thy head,
And thou being worthier her choice upbraid,
Yet do him honour due to his estate;
He’ll bring thee weal though far or near thou vade:
Nor speak thy thought of him, else shalt thou be
Of those who self degrade from honour’s grade:
Many Haríms are lovelier than the Bride,
But Time and Fortune lent the Bride their aid.’”
When Sasan heard these her words and comprehended what her verse intended, he rose from her in anger and said, “Were it not that thy death would bring on me dishonour and disgrace, I would take off thy head with my blade and make an end of thy breath.” Quoth she, “Why art thou wroth with me? I did but jest with thee.” Then she rose to him and bussed his head and hands, saying, “Right is thy foresight, and I and thou will cast about for some means to kill him forthright.” When he heard this, he was glad and said, “Make haste and contrive some deceit to relieve me of my grieving: for in my sooth the door of device is straitened upon me!” Replied she, “At once I will devise for thee to do away his life.” “How so?” asked he; and she answered, “By means of our female slave the so-called Bákún.” Now this Bakun was past mistress in all kinds of knavery and was one of the most pestilent of old women, in whose religion to abstain from wickedness was not lawful; she had brought up Kuzia Fakan and Kanmakan who had her in so great affection that he used to sleep at her feet. So when King Sasan heard his wife name her, he said, “Right is this recking”; and, sending for the old woman, told her what had passed and bade her cast about to kill Kanmaken, promising her all good. Replied she, “Thy bidding shall be obeyed; but I would have thee, O my lord, give me a dagger13 which hath been tempered in water of death, that I may despatch him the speedilier for thee.” Quoth Sasan, “And welcome to thee!”; and gave her a hanger that would devance man’s destiny. Now this slave women had heard stories and verses and had learned by rote great store of strange sayings and anecdotes: so she took the dagger and went out of the room, considering how she could compass his doom. Then she repaired to Kanmakan, who was sitting and awaiting news of tryst with the daughter of his uncle, Kuzia Fakan; so that night his thought was taken up with her and the fires of love for her raged in his heart. And while he was thus, behold, the slave woman, Bakun, went in to him and said, “Union time is at hand and the days of disunion are over and gone.” Now when he heard this he asked, “How is it with Kuzia Fakan?”; and Bakun answered, “Know that her time is wholly taken up with love of thee.” At this he rose and doffing his outer clothes put them on her and promised her all good. Then said she, “Know that I mean to pass this night with thee, that I may tell thee what talk I have heard and console thee with stories of many passion distraughts whom love hath made sick.” “Nay,” quoth he, “rather tell me a tale that will gladden my heart and gar my cares depart.” “With joy and good will,” answered she; then she took seat by his side (and that poniard under her dress) and began to say: “Know thou that the pleasantest thing my ears ever heard was
1 “Him” for “her.”
2 Arab. “Sáibah,” a she-camel freed from labour under certain conditions amongst the pagan Arabs; for which see Sale (Prel. Disc. sect. v.).
3 Arab. “Marba’.” In early spring the Badawi tribes leave the Rasm or wintering-place (the Turco–Persian “Kishlák”) in the desert, where winter-rains supply them, and make for the Yaylák, or summer-quarters, where they find grass and water. Thus the great Ruwala tribe appears regularly every year on the eastern slopes of the Anti–Libanus (Unexplored Syria, i. 117), and hence the frequent “partings.”
4 This “renowning it” and boasting of one’s tribe (and oneself) before battle is as natural as the war-cry: both are intended to frighten the foe and have often succeeded. Every classical reader knows that the former practice dates from the earliest ages. It is still customary in Arabia during the furious tribal fights, the duello on a magnificent scale which often ends in half the combatants on either side being placed hors-de-combat. A fair specimen of “renowning it” is Amrú‘s Suspended Poem with its extravagant panegyric of the Taghlab tribe (p. 64, “Arabian Poetry for English Readers,” etc., by W. A. Clouston, Glasgow: privately printed MDCCCLXXXI.; and transcribed from Sir William Jones’s translation).
5 The “Turk” appeared soon amongst the Abbaside Caliphs. Mohammed was made to prophecy of them under the title Banú Kantúrah, the latter being a slave-girl of Abraham. The Imam Al- Shafi’i (A.H. 195=A.D. 810) is said to have foretold their rule in Egypt where an Ottoman defended him against a donkey-boy. (For details see Pilgrimage i. 216 ) The Caliph Al–Mu’atasim bi’llah (A.D. 833–842) had more than 10,000 Turkish slaves and was the first to entrust them with high office; so his Arab subjects wrote of him:—
A wretched Turk is thy heart’s desire;
And to them thou showest thee dam and sire.
His successor Al-Wásik (Vathek, of the terrible eyes) was the first to appoint a Turk his Sultan or regent. After his reign they became praetorians and led to the downfall of the Abbasides.
6 The Persian saying is “First at the feast and last at the fray.”
7 i.e. a tempter, a seducer.
8 Arab. “Wayl-ak” here probably used in the sense of “Wayh-ak” an expression of affectionate concern.
9 Firdausi, the Homer of Persia, affects the same magnificent exaggeration. The trampling of men and horses raises such a dust that it takes one layer (of the seven) from earth and adds it to the (seven of the) Heavens. The “blaze” on the stallion’s forehead (Arab. “Ghurrah”) is the white gleam of the morning.
10 A noted sign of excitement in the Arab blood horse, when the tail looks like a panache covering the hind-quarter.
11 i.e. Prince Kanmakan.
12 The “quality of mercy” belongs to the noble Arab, whereas the ignoble and the Bada win are rancorous and revengeful as camels.
13 Arab. “Khanjar,” the poison was let into the grooves and hollows of the poniard.
A certain man loved fair women, and spent his substance on them, till he became so poor that nothing remained to him; the world was straitened upon him and he used to go about the market-streets begging his daily bread. Once upon a time as he went along, behold, a bit of iron nail pierced his finger and drew blood; so he sat down and wiping away the blood, bound up his finger. Then he arose crying out, and fared forwards till he came to a Hammam and entering took off his clothes, and when he looked about him he found it clean and empty. So he sat him down by the fountain-basin, and ceased not pouring water on his head, till he was tired. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the man sat down by the fountain basin and ceased not pouring water on his head till he was tired. Then he went out to the room in which was the cistern of cold water; and seeing no one there, he found a quiet corner and taking out a piece of Hashísh,1 swallowed it. Presently the fumes mounted to his brain and he rolled over on to the marble floor. Then the Hashish made him fancy that a great lord was shampooing him and that two slaves stood at his head, one bearing a bowl and the other washing gear and all the requisites of the Hammam. When he saw this, he said in himself, “Meseemeth these here be mistaken in me; or else they are of the company of us Hashish-eaters.”2 Then he stretched out his legs and he imagined that the bathman said to him, “O my master, the time of thy going up to the Palace draweth near and it is to-day thy turn of service.” At this he laughed and said to himself, “As Allah willeth,3 O Hashish!” Then he sat and said nothing, whilst the bathman arose and took him by the hand and girt his middle with a waist-cloth of black silk, after which the two slaves followed him with the bowls and gear, and they ceased not escorting him till they brought him into a cabinet, wherein they set incense and perfumes a-burning. He found the place full of various kinds of fruits and sweet-scented flowers, and they sliced him a watermelon and seated him on a stool of ebony, whilst the bathman stood to wash him and the slaves poured water on him; after which they rubbed him down well and said, “O our lord, Sir Wazir, health to thee forever!” Then they went out and shut the door on him; and in the vanity of phantasy he arose and removed the waist-cloth from his middle, and laughed till he well nigh fainted. He gave not over laughing for some time and at last quoth he to himself, “What aileth them to address me as if I were a Minister and style me Master, and Sir? Haply they are now blundering; but after an hour they will know me and say, This fellow is a beggar; and take their fill of cuffing me on the neck.” Presently, feeling hot he opened the door, whereupon it seemed to him that a little white slave and an eunuch came in to him carrying a parcel. Then the slave opened it and brought out three kerchiefs of silk, one of which he threw over his head, a second over his shoulders and a third he tied round his waist. Moreover, the eunuch gave him a pair of bath-clogs,4 and he put them on; after which in came white slaves and eunuchs and sup ported him (and he laughing the while) to the outer hall, which he found hung and spread with magnificent furniture, such as be seemeth none but kings; and the pages hastened up to him and seated him on the divan. Then they fell to kneading him till sleep overcame him; and he dreamt that he had a girl in his arms. So he kissed her and set her between his thighs; then, sitting to her as a man sitteth to a woman,5 he took yard in hand and drew her towards him and weighed down upon her, when lo! he heard one saying to him, “Awake, thou ne’er-do-well! The noon hour is come and thou art still asleep.” He opened his eyes and found him self lying on the merge of the cold-water tank, amongst a crowd of people all laughing at him; for his prickle was at point and the napkin had slipped from his middle. So he knew that all this was but a confusion of dreams and an illusion of Hashish and he was vexed and said to him who had aroused him, “Would thou hadst waited till I had put it in!” Then said the folk, “Art thou not ashamed, O Hashish-eater, to be sleeping stark naked with stiff standing tool?” And they cuffed him till his neck was red. Now he was starving, yet forsooth had he savoured the flavour of pleasure in his dream. When Kanmakan heard the bondwoman’s tale, he laughed till he fell backward and said to Bakun, “O my nurse, this is indeed a rare story and a delectable; I never heard the like of this anecdote. Say me! hast more?” “Yes,” replied she, and she ceased not to tell him merry adventures and laughable absurdities, till sleep overcame him. Then she sat by his head till the most part of the night was past, when she said to herself, “It is time to profit by the occasion.” So she sprang to her feet and unsheathed the hanger and rushing up to Kanmakan, was about to cut his throat when behold, his mother came in upon the twain. As soon as Bakun saw her, she rose in respect and advanced to meet her, and fear get hold of her and she fell a-trembling, as if he had the ague. When his mother looked at her she marvelled to see her thus and aroused her son, who awoke and found her sitting at his head. Now the cause of her coming was that Kuzia Fakan overheard the conversation and the concert to kill Kanmakan, and she said to his mother, “O wife of my uncle, go to thy son, ere that wicked whore Bakun murther him;” and she told her what had passed from first to last. So she fared forth at once, and she thought of naught and stayed not for aught till she went in to her son at the very moment when Bakun was about to slay him in his sleep. When he awoke, he said to his mother, “O my mother, indeed thou comest at a good time, for nurse Bakun hath been with me this night.” Then he turned to Bakun and asked her, “By my life! knowest thou any story better than those thou hast told me?” She answered, “And where is what I have told thee compared with what I will tell thee?; but however better it be, it must be told at another time.” Then she rose to depart, hardly believing, in her escape albeit he said, “Go in peace!” for she perceived by her cunning that his mother knew what had occurred. So she went her way; whereupon his mother said to him, “O my son, blessed be this night, for that Almighty Allah hath delivered thee from this accursed woman.” “And how so?” enquired he, and she told him the story from beginning to end. Quoth he, “O my mother, of a truth the live man findeth no slayer, and though slain he shall not die; but now it were wiser that we depart from amongst these enemies and let Allah work what He will.” So, when day dawned he left the city and joined the Wazir Dandan, and after his departure, certain things befel between King Sasan and Nuzhat al-Zaman, which compelled her also to quit the city and join herself to them; and presently they were met by all the high officers of King Sasan who inclined to their party. Then they sat in counsel together devising what they should do, and at last all agreed upon a razzia into the land of Roum there to take their revenge for the death of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and his son Sharrkan. So they set out with this in tent and, after sundry adventures (which it were tedious to tell as will appear from what follows), they fell into the hands of Rúmzán, King of the Greeks. Next morning, King Rumzan caused Kanmakan and the Wazir Dandan and their company to be brought before him and, when they came, he seated them at his side, and bade spread the tables of food. So they ate and drank and took heart of grace, after having made sure of death, when they were summoned to the King’s presence; and they had said to one another, “He hath not sent for us but to slay us.” And when they were comforted the King said, “In truth I have had a dream, which I related to the monks, and they said, “None can expound it to thee save the Wazir Dandan.” Quoth the Minister, “Weal it was thou didst see in thy dream, O King of the age!” Quoth the King, “O Wazir, I dreamt that I was in a pit which seemed a black well where multitudes were tormenting me; and I would have risen, but when springing up I fell on my feet and could not get out of that same pit. Then I turned and saw therein a girdle of gold and I stretched out my hand to take it; but when I raised it from the ground, I saw it was two girdles. So I girt my middle with them both and behold, the girdles became one girdle; and this, O Wazir, is my dream and what I saw when my sleep was deepest.” Said Dandan, “O our Lord the Sultan! know that this thy dream denoteth thou hast a brother or a brother’s son or an uncle’s son or other near kinsman of thy flesh and blood whom thou knowest not; withal he is of the noblest of you all.” Now when the King heard these words he looked at Kanmakan and Nuzhat al-Zaman and Kuzia Fakan and the Wazir Dandan and the rest of the captives and said to himself, “If I smite these people’s necks, their troops will lose heart for the destruction of their chiefs and I shall be able to return speedily to my realm, lest the Kingship pass out of my hands.” So having determined upon this he called the Sworder and bade him strike off Kanmakan’s head upon the spot and forthright, when lo! up came Rumzan’s nurse and said to him, “O auspicious King, what purposest thou?” Quoth he, “I purpose slaughtering these prisoners who are in my power; and after that I will throw their heads among their men: then will I fall upon them, I and all my army in one body, and kill all we can kill and rout the rest: so will this be the decisive action of the war and I shall return speedily to my kingdom ere aught of accident befal among my subjects.” When the nurse heard these words, she came up to him and said in the Frankish tongue, “How canst thou prevail upon thyself to slay thine own brother’s son, and thy sister, and thy sister’s daughter?” When he heard this language, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and said to her, “O accursed woman, didst thou not tell me that my mother was murthered and that my father died by poison? Didst thou not give me a jewel and say to me, ‘Of a truth this jewel was thy father’s?’ Why didst thou not tell me the truth?” Replied she, “All that I told thee is true, but my case and thy case are wonderful and my history and thy his tory are marvellous. My name is Marjanah and thy mother’s name was Abrizah: and she was gifted with such beauty and loveliness and velour that proverbs were made of her, and her prowess was renowned among men of war. And thy father was King Omar bin al- Nu’uman, Lord of Baghdad and Khorasan, without doubt or double dealing or denial. He sent his son Sharrkan on a razzia in company with this very Wazir Dandan; and they did all that men can. But Sharrkan, thy brother, who had preceded the force, separated himself from the troops and fell in with thy mother Queen Abrizah in her palace; and we happened to have sought a place apart in order to wrestle, she and I and her other damsels. He came upon us by chance while we were in such case, and wrestled with thy mother, who overcame him by the power of her splendid beauty and by her prowess. Then she entertained him five days in her palace, till the news of this came to her father, by the old woman Shawahi, surnamed Zat al-Dawahi, whereupon she embraced Al–Islam at the hands of Sharrkan, and he took her and carried her by stealth to Baghdad, and with her myself and Rayhánab and twenty other damsels, all of us having, like her, followed the True Faith. When we came into the presence of thy Father, the King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, and he saw thy mother, Queen Abrizah, he fell in love with her and going in unto her one night, had connection with her, and she conceived by him and became with child of thee. Now thy mother had three jewels which she presented to thy father; and he gave one of them to his daughter, Nuzhat al-Zaman, another to thy brother, Zau al- Makan, and the third to thy brother Sharrkan. This last thy mother took from Sharrkan and kept it for thee. But as the time of her delivery drew near she yearned after her own people and disclosed to me her secret; so I went to a black slave called Al-Ghazban; and, privily telling him our case, bribed him to go with us. Accordingly the negro took us and fled the city with us, thy mother being near her time. But as we approached a desert place on the borders of our own country, the pangs of labour came upon thy mother. Then the slave proved himself a lustful villain and approaching her sought of her a shameful thing; whereupon she cried out at him with a loud cry, and was sore affrighted at him. In the excess of her fright she gave birth to thee at once, and at that moment there arose, in the direction of our country, a dust-cloud which towered and flew till it walled the view. Thereupon the slave feared for his life; so he smote Queen Abrizah with his sword and slew her in his fury; then mounting his horse he went his way. Soon after his going, the dust lifted and discovered thy grandfather, King Hardub, Lord of Græcia-land, who, seeing thy mother (and his daughter) lying slain on the plain, was sorely troubled with a distress that redoubled, and questioned me of the manner of her death and the cause of her secretly quitting her father’s realm. So I told him all that had passed, first and last; and this is the cause of the feud between the people of the land of the Greeks and the people of the city of Baghdad. Then we bore off thy murthered mother and buried her; and I took thee and reared thee, and hung about thy neck the jewel which was with Queen Abrizah. But, when being grown up thou camest to man’s estate, I dared not acquaint thee with the truth of the matter, lest such information stir up a war of blood revenge between you. More over, thy grandfather had enjoined me to secrecy, and I could not gainsay the commandment of thy mother’s father, Hardub, King of the Greeks. This, then, is the cause of my concealment and the reason why I forbore to inform thee that thy father was King Omar bin al-Nu’uman; but when thou camest to the throne, I told thee what thou knowest; and I durst not reveal to thee the rest till this moment, O King of the Age! So now I have discovered to thee my secret and my proof, and I have acquainted thee with all I know; and thou reckest best what is in thy mind.” Now all the captives had heard the slave woman Marjanah, nurse to King Rumzan, speaking as she spake; when Nuzhat al-Zaman, without stay or delay, cried out, saying, “This King Rumzan is my brother by my father, King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, and his mother was Queen Abrizah, daughter of King Hardub, Lord of the Greeks; and I know this slave-woman Marjanah right well.” With this, trouble and perplexity got hold upon Rumzan and he caused Nuzhat al-Zaman to be brought up to him forthright. When he looked upon her, blood yearned to blood and he questioned her of his history. She told him the tale and her story tallied with that of Marjanah, his nurse; whereupon the King was assured that he was, indeed and without a doubt, of the people of Irak; and that King Omar bin al-Nu’uman was his father. So without losing time he caused his sister to be unpinioned, and Nuzhat al-Zaman came up to him and kissed his hands, whilst her eves ran over with tears. The King west also to see her weeping, and brotherly love possessed him and his heart yearned to his brother’s son Sultan Kanmakan. So he sprang to his feet and, taking the sword from the Sworder’s hands (whereat the captives made sure of death), he caused them to be set close to him and he cut their bonds with the blade and said to his nurse Marjanah, “Explain the matter to this company, even as thou hast explained it to me.” Replied she, “O King, know that this Shayth is the Wazir Dandan and he is the best of witnesses to my story, seeing that he knoweth the facts of the case.” Then she turned to the captives and repeated the whole story to them on the spot and forthright, and in presence of the Kings of the Greeks and the Kings of the Franks; whereupon Queen Nuzhat al-Zaman and the Wazir Dandan and all who were prisoners with them confirmed her words. When Marjanah, the bond-woman, had finished, chancing to look at Sultan Kanmakan she saw on his neck the third jewel, fellow to the two which were with Queen Abrizah; and, recognising it, she cried so loud a cry, that the palace re-echoed it and said to the King, “O my son, know that now my certainty is still more assured, for this jewel that is about the neck of yonder captive is the fellow to that I hung to thy neck; and, these being the two, this captive is indeed thy brother’s son, Kanmakan.” Then the slave women Marjanah turned to Kanmakan and said to him, “Let me see that jewel, O King of the Age!”; so he took it from his neck and handed it to her. Then she asked Nuzhat al-Zaman of the third jewel and she gave it to her; and when the two were in her hand she delivered them to King Rumzan, and the truth and proof were made manifest to him; and he was assured that he was indeed Sultan Kanmakan’s uncle and that his father was King Omar bin al-Nu’uman. So he rose at once and on the spot and, going up to the Wazir Dandan, threw his arms round his neck; then he embraced King Kanmakan and the twain cried a loud cry for excess of joy. The glad news was blazed abroad without delay; and they beat the tabrets and cymbals, whilst the shawms sounded and the people held high festival. The armies of Irak and Syria heard the clamour of rejoicing among the Greeks; so they mounted to the last man, and King Zibl Khan also took horse saying to himself, “Would I knew what can be the cause of this clamour and rejoicing in the army of the Franks and the Greeks!” Then the army of Irak dight itself for fight and advanced into the plain and place of cut and foin. Presently, King Rumzan turned him round and saw the army deployed and in preparing for battle employed, so he asked the cause thereof and was told the state of the case. Thereupon he bade his niece and brother’s daughter, Kuzia Fakan, return at once and forthright to the troops of Syria and Irak and acquaint them with the plight that had betided and how it was come to light that King Rumzan was uncle to Sultan Kanmakan. She set out, putting away from her sorrows and troubles and, coming to King Zibl Khan,6 saluted him and told him all that had passed of the good accord, and how King Rumzan had proved to be her uncle and uncle of Kanmakan. And when she went in to him she found him tearful eyed, in fear for the captive Emirs and Princes; but when he heard what had passed, from first to last, the Moslem’s sadness was abated and they joyed with the more gladness. Then King Zibl Khan and all his officers and his retinue took horse and followed Princess Kuzia Fakan till they reached the pavilion of King Rumzan; and when entering they found him sitting with his nephew, Sultan Kanmakan. Now he had taken counsel with the Wazir Dandan concerning King Zibl Khan and had agreed to commit to his charge the city of Damascus of Sham and leave him King over it as he before had been while they themselves entered Irak. Accordingly, they confirmed him in the vice royalty of Damascus of Syria, and bade him set out at once for his government; so he fared forth with his troops and they rode with him a part of the way to bid him farewell. Then they returned to their own places whereupon, the two armies foregathered and gave orders for the march upon Irak; but the Kings said one to other, “Our hearts will never be at rest nor our wrath cease to rage till we have taken our wreak of the old woman Shawahi, surnamed Zat al-Dawahi, and wiped away our shame and blot upon our honour.” Thereupon King Rumzan and his nephew set out, surrounded by their Nobles and Grandees; and indeed Kanmakan rejoiced in his uncle, King Rumzan, and called down blessings on nurse Marjanah who had made them known to each other. They fared on and ceased not faring till they drew near their home Baghdad, and when the Chief Chamberlain, Sasan, heard of their approach, he came out to meet them and kissed the hand of King Rumzan who bestowed on him a dress of honour. Then the King of Roum sat down on the throne and seated by his side his nephew Sultan Kanmakan, who said to him, “O my uncle, this Kingdom befitteth none but thee.” Replied Rumzan, “Allah be my refuge and the Lord forbid that I should supplant thee in thy Kingdom!” Upon this the Wazir Dandan counselled them to share the throne between the two, ruling each one day in turn; and with this they were well satisfied. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Pers. “Bang”, Indian “Bhang”, Maroccan “Fasúkh” and S. African “Dakhá.” (Pilgrimage i. 64.) I heard of a “Hashish-orgie” in London which ended in half the experimentalists being on their sofas for a week. The drug is useful for stokers, having the curious property of making men insensible to heat. Easterns also use it for “Imsák” prolonging coition of which I speak presently.
2 Arab. “Hashsháshín;” whence De Sacy derived “Assassin.” A notable effect of the Hashish preparation is wildly to excite the imagination, a kind of delirium imaginans sive phantasticum.
3 Meaning “Well done!” Mashallah (Má sháa ’llah) is an exclamation of many uses, especially affected when praising man or beast for fear lest flattering words induce the evil eye.
4 Arab. “Kabkáb” vulg. “Kubkáb.” They are between three and ten inches high, and those using them for the first time in the slippery Hammam must be careful.
5 Arab. “Majlis”=sitting. The postures of coition, ethnologically curious and interesting, are subjects so extensive that they require a volume rather than a note. Full information can be found in the Ananga-ranga, or Stage of the Bodiless One, a treatise in Sanskrit verse vulgarly known as Koka Pandit from the supposed author, a Wazir of the great Rajah Bhoj, or according to others, of the Maharajah of Kanoj. Under the title Lizzat al-Nisá (The Pleasures — or enjoying — of Women) it has been translated into all the languages of the Moslem East, from Hindustani to Arabic. It divides postures into five great divisions: (1) the woman lying supine, of which there are eleven subdivisions; (2) lying on her side, right or left, with three varieties; (3) sitting, which has ten, (4) standing, with three subdivisions, and (5) lying prone, with two. This total of twenty — nine, with three forms of “Purusháyit,” when the man lies supine (see the Abbot in Boccaccio i. 4), becomes thirty-two, approaching the French quarante façons. The Upavishta, majlis, or sitting postures, when one or both “sit at squat” somewhat like birds, appear utterly impossible to Europeans who lack the pliability of the Eastern’s limbs. Their object in congress is to avoid tension of the muscles which would shorten the period of enjoyment. In the text the woman lies supine and the man sits at squat between her legs: it is a favourite from Marocco to China. A literal translation of the Ananga range appeared in 1873 under the name of Káma-Shástra; or the Hindoo Art of Love (Ars Amoris Indica); but of this only six copies were printed. It was re-issued (printed but not published) in 1885. The curious in such matters will consult the Index Librorum Prohibitorum (London, privately printed, 1879) by Pisanus Fraxi (H. S. Ashbee).
6 i.e. Le Roi Crotte.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the two Kings agreed each to rule one day in turn: then made they feasts and offered sacrifices of clean beasts and held high festival; and they abode thus awhile, whilst Sultan Kanmakan spent his nights with his cousin Kuzia Fakan. And after that period, as the two Kings sat rejoicing in their condition and in the happy ending of their troubles, behold, they saw a cloud of dust arise and tower till it walled the world from their eyes. And out of it came a merchant shrieking and crying aloud for succour and saying, “O Kings of the Age! how cometh it that I woned safely in the land of the Infidels and I am plundered in your realm, though it be the biding place of justice1 and peace?” Then King Rumzan went up to him and questioned him of his case and he replied, “I am a merchant and, like other merchants, I have been long absent from my native land, travelling in far countries for some twenty years; and I have a patent of exemption from the city of Damascus which the Viceroy, King Sharrkan (who hath found mercy) wrote me, for the cause that I had made him gift of a slave-girl. Now as I was drawing near my home, having with me an hundred loads of rarities of Hind, when I brought them near Baghdad, which be the seat of your sovereignty and the place of your peace and your justice, out there came upon me wild Arabs and Kurds2 in band gathered together from every land; and they slew my many and they robbed my money and this is what they have done me.” Then the trader wept in presence of King Rumzan, saying that he was an old man and infirm; and he bemoaned himself till the King felt for him and had compassion on him; and likewise did King Kanmakan and they swore that they would sally forth upon the thieves. So they set out amid an hundred horse, each reckoned worth thou sands of men, and the merchant went before them to guide them in the right way; and they ceased not faring on all that day and the livelong night till dawnbreak, when they came to a valley abounding in rills and shady with trees. Here they found the foray dispersed about the valley, having divided that merchant’s bales among them; but there was yet some of the goods left. So the hundred horsemen fell upon them and surrounded them on all sides, and King Rumzan shouted his war cry, and thus also did his nephew Kanmakan, and ere long they made prize of them all, to the number of near three hundred horsemen, banded together of the refuse of rascality.3 They took what they could find of the merchant’s goods and, binding them tightly, brought them to Baghdad, where King Rumzan and his nephew, King Kanmakan, sat down together on one throne and, passing the prisoners in review before them, questioned them of their case and their chiefs. They said, “We have no chiefs but these three men and it was they who gathered us together from all corners and countries.” The Kings said to them, “Point out to us your headmen!”; and, when this was done, they bade lay hands on the leaders and set their comrades free, after taking from them all the goods in their possession and restoring them to the merchant, who examined his stuffs and monies and found that a fourth of his stock was missing. The Kings engaged to make good the whole of his loss, where upon the trader pulled out two letters, one in the handwriting of Sharrkan, and the other in that of Nuzhat al-Zaman; for this was the very merchant who had bought Nuzhat al-Zaman of the Badawi, when she was a virgin, and had forwarded her to her brother Sharrkan; and that happened between them which happened.4 Hereupon King Kanmakan examined the letters and recognised the handwriting of his uncle Sharrkan, and, having heard the history of his aunt, Nuzhat al-Zaman, he went in to her with the second letter written by her to the merchant who had lost through her his monies; Kanmakan also told her what had befallen the trader from first to last. She knew her own handwriting and, recognising the merchant, despatched to him guest gifts and commended him to her brother and nephew, who ordered him largesse of money and black slaves and pages to wait on him; besides which Nuzhat al-Zaman sent him an hundred thousand dirhams in cash and fifty loads of merchandise and presented to him other rich presents. Then she sent for him and when he came, she went up to him and saluted him and told him that she was the daughter of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and that her brother was King Rumzan and that King Kanmakan was her nephew. Thereupon the merchant rejoiced with great joy, and congratulated her on her safety and on her reunion with her brother, and kissed her hands thanking her for her bounty, and said to her, “By Allah! a good deed is not lost upon thee!” Then she withdrew to her own apartment and the trader sojourned with them three days, after which he took leave of them and set out on his return march to the land of Syria. Thereupon the two Kings sent for the three robber chiefs who were of the highway men, and questioned them of their case, when one of them came forward and said, “Know ye that I am a Badawi who am wont to lie in wait, by the way, to snatch small children5 and virgin girls and sell them to merchants; and this I did for many a year until these latter days, when Satan incited me to join yon two gallows birds in gathering together all the riff-raff of the Arabs and other peoples, that we might plunder merchandise and waylay merchants.” Said the Kings, “Tell us the rarest of the adventures that have befallen thee in kidnapping children and maidens.” Replied he, “O Kings of the Age, the strangest thing that happened to me was that one day, two-and-twenty years ago, I snatched a girl who belonged to the Holy City; she was gifted with beauty and comeliness, despite that she was but a servant and was clad in threadbare clothes, with a piece of camlet-cloth on her head. So I entrapped her by guile as she came out of the caravanserai; and at that very hour mounting her on a camel, made off with her, thinking to carry her to my own people in the Desert and there set her to pasture the camels and gather their droppings in the valley. But she wept with so sore a weeping that after coming down upon her with blows, I took her and carried her to Damascus city where a merchant saw her with me and, being astounded at her beauty and marvelling at her accomplishments, wished to buy her of me and kept on bidding me more and more for her, till at last I sold her to him for an hundred thousand dirhams. After selling her I heard her display prodigious eloquence; and it reached me that the merchant clothed her in handsome gear and presented her to the Viceroy of Damascus, who gave him three times the price which he had paid to me, and this price, by my life! was but little for such a damsel. This, O Kings of the Age, is the strangest thing that ever befel me.” When the two Kings heard her story they wondered thereat, but when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard what the Badawi related, the light became darkness before her face and she cried out and said to her brother Rumzan, “Sure and sans doubt this is the very Badawi who kidnapped me in the Holy City Jerusalem!” Then she told them all that she had endured from him in her stranger hood of hardship, blows, hunger, humiliation, contempt, adding, “And now it is lawful for me to slay him.” So saying she seized a sword and made at him to smite him; and behold, he cried out and said, “O Kings of the Age, suffer her not to slay me, till I shall have told you the rare adventures that have betided me.” And her nephew Kanmakan said to her, “O my aunt, let him tell us his tale, and after that do with him as thou wilt.” So she held her hand and the Kings said to him, “Now let us hear thy history.” Quoth he, “O Kings of the Age, if I tell you a rare tale will ye pardon me?” “Yes,” answered they. Then the Badawi robber-chief began,
1 This seems to be a punning allusion to Baghdad, which in Persian would mean the Garden (bágh) of Justice (dád). See “Biographical Notices of Persian Poets” by Sir Gore Ouseley, London, Oriental Translation Fund, 1846
2 The Kardoukhoi (Carduchi) of Xenophon; also called (Strabo xv.) “Kárdakís, from a Persian word signifying manliness,” which would be “Kardak”=a doer (of derring do). They also named the Montes Gordæi the original Ararat of Xisisthrus-Noah’s Ark. The Kurds are of Persian race, speaking an old and barbarous Iranian tongue and often of the Shi’ah sect. They are born bandits, highwaymen, cattle-lifters; yet they have spread extensively over Syria and Egypt and have produced some glorious men, witness Sultan Saláh al-Din (Saladin) the Great. They claim affinity with the English in the East, because both races always inhabit the highest grounds they can find.
3 These irregular bands who belong to no tribe are the most dangerous bandits in Arabia, especially upon the northern frontier. Burckhardt, who suffered from them, gives a long account of their treachery and utter absence of that Arab “pundonor” which is supposed to characterise Arab thieves.
4 An euphemistic form to avoid mentioning the incestuous marriage.
5 The Arab form of our “Kinchin lay.”
And he said:— Know ye that a short while ago, I was sore wakeful one night and thought the morn would never dawn; so, as soon as it was break of day I rose, without stay or delay; and, slinging over my shoulder my sword, mounted horse and set my lance in rest. Then I rode out to sport and hunt and, as I went along, a company of men accosted me and asked me whither I was bound I told them and they said, “We will keep thee company.” So we all fared on together, and, whilst we were faring, lo and behold! up started an ostrich and we gave her chase, but she escaped our pursuit and spreading wings ceased not to fly before us (and we following by sight) till she lost us in a desert wherein there was neither grass nor water, nor heard we aught therein save hiss of snake and wail of Jinn and howl of Ghul; and when we reached that place the ostrich disappeared nor could we tell whether she had flown up into the sky or into the ground had gone down. Then we turned our horses’ heads and thought to return; but found that to retrace our steps at that time of burning heat would be toilsome and dangerous; for the sultry air was grievous to us, so that we thirsted with sore thirst and our steeds stood still. We made sure of death; but while we were in this case we suddenly espied from afar a spacious mead where gazelles were frisking Therein was a tent pitched and by the tent side a horse tethered and a spear was planted with head glittering in the sun.1 Upon this our hearts revived after we had despaired, and we turned our horses’ heads towards that tent making for the meadow and the water which irrigated it; and all my comrades fared for it and I at their head, and we ceased not faring till we reached the mead. Then we alighted at the spring and watered our beasts. But I was seized with a fever of foolish curiosity and went up to the door of that tent, wherein I saw a young man, without hair on his cheeks, who fellowed the new moon; and on his right hand was a slender-waisted maid, as she were a willow-wand. No sooner did I set eyes on her than love get hold upon my heart and I saluted the youth, who returned my greeting. Then said I, “O my brother, tell me who thou art and what to thee is this damsel sitting by thy side?”2 Thereupon the youth bent his head groundwards awhile, then raised it and replied, “Tell me first who thou art and what are these horsemen with thee?” Answered I, “I am Hammad son of al-Fazari, the renowned knight, who is reckoned among the Arabs as five hundred horse. We went forth from our place this morning to sport and chase and were overcome by thirst; so I came to the door of this tent, thinking haply to get of thee a draught of water.” When he heard these my words, he turned to the fair maiden and said, “Bring this man water and what food there is ready.” So she arose trailing her skirts, whilst the golden bangles tinkled on her ankles and her feet stumbled in her long locks, and she disappeared for a little while. Presently she returned bearing in her right hand a silver vessel full of cold water and in her left hand a bowl brimming with milk and dates, together with some flesh of wild cattle. But I could take of her nor meat nor drink for the excess of my passion, and I applied to her these two couplets, saying,
“It was as though the sable dye3 upon her palms,
Were raven perching on a swathe of freshest snow;
Thou seest Sun and Moon conjoined in her face,
While Sun fear-dimmed and Moon fright-pallid show.”
After I had eaten and drunk I said to the youth, “Know thou, O Chief of the Arabs, that I have told thee in all truth who and what I am, and now I would fain have thee do the like by me and tell me the truth of thy case.” Replied the young man, “As for this damsel she is my sister.” Quoth I, “It is my desire that thou give me her to wife of thy free will: else will I slay thee and take her by force.” Upon this, he bowed his head groundwards awhile, then he raised his eyes to me and answered, “Thou sayest sooth in avouching thyself a renowned knight and famed in fight and verily thou art the lion of the desert; but if ye all attack me treacherously and slay me in your wrath and take my sister by force, it will be a stain upon your honour. An you be, as ye aver, cavaliers who are counted among the Champions and reck not the shock of foray and fray, give me a little time to don my armour and sling on my sword and set lance in rest and mount war steed. Then will we go forth into the field of fight, I and you; and, if I conquer you, I will kill you to the last man; but if you overcome me and slay me, this damsel, my sister, is yours.” Hearing such words I replied, “This is only just, and we oppose it not.” Then I turned back my horse’s head (for my love for the damsel waxed hotter and hotter) and returned to my companions, to whom I set forth her beauty and loveliness as also the comeliness of the young man who was with her, together with his velour and strength of soul and how he had avouched himself a match for a thousand horse. Moreover, I described to my company the tent and all the riches and rarities therein and said to them, “Know ye that this youth would not have cut himself off from society and have taken up his abode alone in this place, were he not a man of great prowess: so I propose that whoso slayeth the younker shall take his sister.” And they said, “This contenteth us.” Then my company armed themselves and mounting, rode to the tent, where we found that the young man had donned his gear and backed his steed; but his sister ran up to him (her veil being drenched with tears), and took hold of his stirrup and cried out, saying, “Alas!” and, “Woe worth the day!” in her fear for her brother, and recited these couplets,
“To Allah will I make my moan of travail and of woe,
Maybe Iláh of Arsh4 will smite their faces with affright:
Fain would they slay thee, brother mine, with purpose felon-fell;
Albe no cause of vengeance was, nor fault forewent the fight.
Yet for a rider art thou known to those who back the steed,
And twixt the East and West of knights thou art the prowess knight:
Thy sister’s honour thou shalt guard though little might be hers,
For thou’rt her brother and for thee she sueth Allah’s might:
Then let not enemy possess my soul nor ‘thrall my frame,
And work on me their will and treat thy sister with despight.
I’ll ne’er abide, by Allah’s truth, in any land or home
Where thou art not, though dight it be with joyance and delight
For love and yearning after thee myself I fain will slay,
And in the gloomy darksome tomb spread bed upon the clay.”
But when her brother heard her verse he wept with sore weeping and turned his horse’s head towards his sister and made this answer to her poetry,
“Stand by and see the derring-do which I to-day will show,
When meet we and I deal them blows that rend and cleave and split;
E’en though rush out to seek a bout the lion of the war,
The stoutest hearted brave of all and eke the best in wit;
To him I’ll deal without delay a Sa’alabiyan blow,5
And dye my cane-spear’s joint in blood by wound of foe bespit:
If all I beat not off from thee, O sister, may this frame
Be slain, and cast my corpse to birds, for so it would befit:
Yes, for thy dearest sake I’ll strike my blows with might and main,
And when we’re gone shall this event in many a book be writ.”
And when he had ended his verse, he said, “O my sister, give ear to what I shall enjoin on thee”; whereto she replied, “Hearkening and obedience.” Quoth he, “If I fall, let none possess thy person;” and thereupon she buffeted her face and said, “Allah forbid, O my brother, that I should see thee laid low and yield myself to thy foe!” With this the youth put out his hand to her and withdrew her veil from her face, whereupon it shone forth as the sun shineth out from the white clouds. Then he kissed her between the eyes and bade her farewell; after which he turned to us and said, “Holla, Knights! Come ye as guests or crave ye cuts and thrusts? If ye come to us as your hosts, rejoice ye in the guest rite; and, if ye covet the shining moon, come ye out against me, knight by knight, into this plain and place of fight.” There upon rushed out to him a doughty rider and the young man said to him, “Tell me thy name and thy father’s name, for I am under an oath not to slay any whose name tallies with mine and whose father’s name is that of my father; and if this be the case with thee, I will give thee up the maid.” Quoth the horseman, “My name is Bilál;”6 and the young man answered him, saying,
“Thou liest when speaking of ‘benefits,’ while
Thou comest to front with thine evillest will
An of prowess thou’rt prow, to my words give ear,
I’m he who make’ champions in battle-field reel
With keen blade, like the horn of the cusped moon,
So ‘ware thrust the, shall drill through the duress hill!”
Then they charged down, each at each, and the youth thrust his adversary in the breast so that the lance head issued from his back. With tints, another came out, and the youth cried,
“Ho thou hound, who art rotten with foulness in grain,7
What high meed is there easy for warrior to gain?
’Tis none save the lion of strain purest pure
Who uncareth for life in the battle plain!”
Nor was it long before the youth left him drowned in his blood and cried out, “Who will come forth to me?” So a third horse man rushed out upon the youth and began saying,
“To thee come I forth with my heart a-flame,
And summon my friends and my comrades by name:
When thou slewest the chief of the Arabs this day,
This day thou remainest the pledge of my claim.”
Now when the youth heard this he answered him in these words,
“Thou liest, O foulest of Satans that are,
And with easings calumnious thou comest to war
This day thou shalt fall by a death dealing point
Where the lances lunge and the scymitars jar!”
Then he so foined him in the breast that the spear-point issued from his back and he cried out, saying, “Ho! will none come out? So a fourth fared forwards and the youth asked him his name and he answered, “My name is Hilál, the New Moon.” And the youth began repeating,
“Thou hast failed who would sink me in ruin sea,
Thou who camest in malice with perfidy:
I, whose verses hast heard from the mouth of me,
Will ravish thy soul though unknown to thee.”
Then they drave at each other and delivered two cuts, but the youth’s stroke devanced that of the rider his adversary and slew him: and thus he went on to kill all who sallied out against him. Now when I saw my comrades slain, I said to myself, “If I go down to fight with him, I shall not be able to prevail against him; and, if I flee, I shall become a byword of shame among the Arabs.” But the youth gave me no time to think, for he ran at me and dragged me from my saddle and hurled me to the ground. I fainted at the fall and he raised his sword designing to cut off my head; but I clung to his skirts, and he lifted me in his hand as though I were a sparrow. When the maiden saw this, she rejoiced in her brother’s prowess and coming up to him, kissed him between the eyes. Then he delivered me to her, saying, “Take him and look to him and entreat him hospitably, for he is come under our rule.” So she took hold of the collar of my hauberk8 and led me away by it as one would lead a dog. Then she did off her brother’s coat of mail and clad him in a robe, and set for him a stool of ivory, on which he sat down; and she said to him, “Allah whiten thy honour and prevent from thee the shifts of fortune!” And he answered her with these couplets,
“My sister said, as saw she how I stood
In fight, when sun-rays lit my knightlihood
‘Allah assain thee for a Brave of braves
To whom in vale bow lions howso wood!’
Quoth I, ‘Go ask the champions of my case,
When feared the Lords of war my warrior mood!
My name is famed for fortune and for force,
And soared my spirit to such altitude,’
Ho thou, Hammád, a lion hast upstirred,
Shall show thee speedy death like viper brood.”
Now when I heard his verse, I was perplexed as to my case and considering my condition and how I was become a captive, I was lowered in my own esteem. Then I looked at the damsel, his sister, and seeing her beauty I said to myself, “’Tis she who caused all this trouble”; and I fell a-marvelling at her loveliness till the tears streamed from my eyes and I recited these couplets,
“Dear friend! ah leave thy loud reproach and blame;
Such blame but irks me yet may not alarm:
I’m clean distraught for one whom saw I not
Without her winning me by winsome charm
Yestreen her brother crossed me in her love,
A Brave stout-hearted and right long of arm.”
Then the maiden set food before her brother and he bade me eat with him, whereat I rejoiced and felt assured that I should not be slain. And when he had ended eating, she brought him a flagon of pure wine and he applied him to it till the fumes of the drink mounted to his head and his face flushed red. Then he turned to me and said, “Woe to thee, O Hammad! dost thou know me or not?” Replied I, “By thy life, I am rich in naught save ignorance!’ Quoth he, “O Hammad, I am ‘Abbád bin Tamím bin Sa’labah and indeed Allah giveth thee thy liberty and leadeth thee to a happy bride and spareth thee confusion.” Then he drank to my long life and gave me a cup of wine and I drank it off; and presently he filled me a second and a third and a fourth, and I drained them all; while he made merry with me and swore me never to betray him. So I sware to him one thousand five hundred oaths that I would never deal perfidiously with him at any time, but that I would be a friend and a helper to him. Thereupon he bade his sister bring me ten suits of silk, so she brought them and laid them on my person, and this dress I have on my body is one of them. Moreover, he made bring one of the best of his she-dromedaries9 carrying stuffs and provaunt, he bade her also bring a sorrel horse, and when they were brought he gave the whole of them to me. I abode with them three days, eating and drinking, and what he gave me of gifts is with me to this present. At the end of the three days he said to me, “O Hammad, O my brother, I would sleep awhile and take my rest and verily I trust my life to thee; but, if thou see horsemen making hither, fear not, for know that they are of the Banu Sa’labah, seeking to wage war on me.” Then he laid his sword under his head-pillow and slept; and when he was drowned in slumber Iblis tempted me to slay him; so I arose in haste, and drawing the sword from under his head, dealt him a blow that made his head fall from his body. But his sister knew what I had done, and rushing out from within the tent, threw herself on his corpse, rending her raiment and repeating these couplets,
“To kith and kin bear thou sad tidings of our plight;
From doom th’ All-wise decreed shall none of men take flight:
Low art thou laid, O brother! strewn upon the stones,
With face that mirrors moon when shining brightest bright!
Good sooth, it is a day accurst, thy slaughter-day
Shivering thy spear that won the day in many a fight!
Now thou be slain no rider shall delight in steed,
Nor man child shall the breeding woman bring to light.
This morn Hammád uprose and foully murthered thee,
Falsing his oath and troth with foulest perjury.”
When she had ended her verse she said to me, “O thou of accursed forefathers, wherefore didst thou play my brother false and slay him when he purposed returning thee to thy native land with provisions; and it was his intent also to marry thee to me at the first of the month?” Then she drew a sword she had with her, and planting the hilt in the earth, with the point set to her breast, she bent over it and threw herself thereon till the blade issued from her back and she fell to the ground, dead. I mourned for her and wept and repented when repentance availed me naught. Then I arose in haste and went to the tent and, taking whatever was light of load and weighty of worth, went my way; but in my haste and horror I took no heed of my dead comrades, nor did I bury the maiden and the youth. And this my tale is still more wondrous than the story of the serving-girl I kidnapped from the Holy City, Jerusalem. But when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard these words from the Badawi, the light was changed in her eyes to night. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These are the signs of a Shaykh’s tent.
2 These questions, indiscreet in Europe, are the rule throughout Arabia, as they were in the United States of the last generation.
3 Arab. “Khizáb” a paste of quicklime and lamp-black kneaded with linseed oil which turns the Henna to a dark olive. It is hideously ugly to unaccustomed eyes and held to be remarkably beautiful in Egypt.
4 i.e. the God of the Empyrean.
5 A blow worthy of the Sa’alabah tribe to which he belonged.
6 i.e. “benefits”; also the name of Mohammed’s Mu’ezzin, or crier to prayer, who is buried outside the Jábiah gate of Damascus. Hence amongst Moslems, Abyssinians were preferred as mosque-criers in the early ages of Al–Islam. Egypt chose blind men because they were abundant and cheap; moreover they cannot take note of what is doing on the adjoining roof terraces where women and children love to pass the cool hours that begin and end the day. Stories are told of men who counterfeited blindness for years in order to keep the employment. In Moslem cities the stranger required to be careful how he appeared at a window or on the gallery of a minaret: the people hate to be overlooked and the whizzing of a bullet was the warning to be off. (Pilgrimage iii. 185.)
7 His instinct probably told him that this opponent was a low fellow but such insults are common when “renowning it.”
8 Arab. “Dare’ “ or “Dira’,” a habergeon, a coat of ring-mail, sometimes worn in pairs. During the wretched “Sudan” campaigns much naïve astonishment was expressed by the English Press to hear of warriors armed cap-à-pie in this armour like medieval knights. They did not know that every great tribe has preserved, possibly from Crusading times, a number of hauberks, even to hundreds. I have heard of only one English traveller who had a mail jacket made by Wilkinson of Pall Mall, imitating in this point Napoleon III. And (according to the Banker-poet, Rogers) the Duke of Wellington. That of Napoleon is said to have been made of platinum-wire, the work of a Pole who received his money and an order to quit Paris. The late Sir Robert Clifton (they say) tried its value with a Colt after placing it upon one of his coat-models or mannequins. It is easy to make these hauberks arrow-proof or sword-proof, even bullet-proof if Arab gunpowder be used: but against a modern rifle-cone they are worse than worthless as the fragments would be carried into the wound. The British serjeant was right in saying that he would prefer to enter battle in his shirt: and he might even doff that to advantage and return to the primitive custom of man — gymnomachy.
9 Arab. “Jamal” (by Badawin pronounced “Gamal” like the Hebrew) is the generic term for “Camel” through the Gr.: “Ibl” is also the camel-species but not so commonly used. “Hajín” is the dromedary (in Egypt, “Dalúl” in Arabia), not the one-humped camel of the zoologist (C. dromedarius) as opposed to the two-humped (C. Bactrianus), but a running i.e. a riding camel. The feminine is Nákah for like mules females are preferred. “Bakr” (masc.) and “Bakrah” (fem.) are camel-colts. There are hosts of special names besides those which are general. Mr. Censor is singular when he states (p.40) “the male (of the camel) is much the safer animal to choose;” and the custom of t e universal Ease disproves his assertion. Mr. McCoan (“Egypt as it is”) tells his readers that the Egyptian camel has two humps, in fact, he describes the camel as it is not.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard these words from the Badawi, the light was changed in her eyes to night, and she rose and drawing the sword, smote Hammad the Arab between the shoulder-blades so that the point issued from the apple of his throat.1 And when all present asked her, ‘Why hast thou made haste to slay him;” she answered, “Praised be Allah who hath granted me in my life tide to avenge myself with mine own hand!” And she bade the slaves drag the body out by the feet and cast it to the dogs. Thereupon they turned to the two prisoners who remained of the three; and one of them was a black slave, so they said to him, What is thy name, fellow? Tell us the truth of thy case.” He replied, “As for me my name is Al–Ghazbán,” and acquainted them what had passed between himself and Queen Abrizah, daughter of King Hardub, Lord of Greece, and how he had slain her and fled. Hardly had the negro made an end of his story, when King Rumzan struck off his head with his scymitar, saying, Praise to Allah who gave me life! I have avenged my mother with my own hand.” Then he repeated to them what his nurse Marjanah had told him of this same slave whose name was Al–Ghazban; after which they turned to the third prisoner. Now this was the very camel-driver2 whom the people of the Holy City, Jerusalem, hired to carry Zau al-Makan and lodge him in the hospital at Damascus of Syria; but he threw him down on the ashes midden and went his way. And they said to him, “Acquaint us with thy case and tell the truth.” So he related to them all that had happened to him with Sultan Zau al-Makan; how he had been carried from the Holy City, at the time when he was sick, till they made Damascus and he had been thrown into the hospital; how also the Jerusalem folk had paid the cameleer money to transport the stranger to Damascus, and he had taken it and fled after casting his charge upon the midden by the side of the ash-heap of the Hammam. But when he ended his words, Sultan Kanmakan took his sword forthright and cut off his head, saying, “Praised be Allah who hath given me life, that I might requite this traitor what he did with my father, for I have heard this very story from King Zau al-Makan himself.” Then the Kings said each to other, “It remaineth only for us to wreak our revenge upon the old woman Shawahi, yclept Zat al-Dawahi, because she is the prime cause of all these calamities and cast us into adversity on this wise. Who will deliver her into our hands that we may avenge ourselves upon her and wipe out our dishonour?” And King Rumzan said, “Needs must we bring her hither.” So without stay or delay he wrote a letter to his grandmother, the aforesaid ancient woman, giving her to know therein that he had subdued the kingdoms of Damascus and Mosul and Irak, and had broken up the host of the Moslems and captured their princes, adding, “I desire thee of all urgency to come to me, bringing with thee Queen Sophia, daughter of King Afridun, and whom thou wilt of the Nazarene chiefs, but no armies; for the country is quiet and wholly under our hand.” And when she read the letter and recognised the handwriting of King Rumzan, she rejoiced with great joy and forthright equipping herself and Queen Sophia, set out with their attendants and journeyed, without stopping, till they drew near Baghdad. Then she foresent a messenger to acquaint the King of her arrival, whereupon quoth Rumzan, “We should do well to don the habit of the Franks and fare forth to meet the old woman, to the intent that we may be assured against her craft and perfidy.” Whereto Kanmakan replied, “Hearing is consenting.” So they clad themselves in Frankish clothes and, when Kuzia Fakan saw them, she exclaimed, “By the truth of the Lord of Worship, did I not know you, I should take you to be indeed Franks!” Then they sallied forth with a thousand horse, King Rumzan riding on before them, to meet the old woman. As soon as his eyes fell on hers, he dismounted and walked towards her and she, recognizing him, dismounted also and embraced him, but he pressed her ribs with his hands, till he well nigh broke them. Quoth she, “What is this, O my son?” But before she had done speaking, up came Kanmakan and Dandan; and the horsemen with them cried out at the women and slaves and took them all prisoners. Then the two Kings returned to Baghdad, with their captives, and Rumzan bade them decorate the city which they did for three days, at the end of which they brought out the old woman Shawahi, hight Zat al-Dawahi, with a peaked red turband of palm-leaves on her head, diademed with asses’ dung and preceded by a herald proclaiming aloud, “This is the reward of those who presume to lay hands on Kings and the sons of Kings!” Then they crucified her on one of the gates of Baghdad; and, when her companions saw what befel her, all embraced in a body the faith of Al–Islam. As for Kanmakan and his uncle Rumzan and his aunt Nuzhat al-Zaman and the Wazir Dandan, they marvelled at the wonderful events that had betided them and bade the scribes chronicle them in books that those who came after might read. Then they all abode for the remainder of their days in the enjoyment of every solace and comfort of life, till there overtook them the Destroyer of all delights and the Sunderer of all societies. And this is the whole that hath come down to us of the dealings of fortune with King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and his sons Sharrkan and Zau al-Makan and his son’s son Kanmakan and his daughter Nuzhat al-Zaman and her daughter Kuzia Fakan. Thereupon quoth Shahryar to Shahrazad, “I desire that thou tell me somewhat about birds;” and hearing this Dunyazad said to her sister, “I have never seen the Sultan light at heart all this while till the present night, and his pleasure garreth me hope that the issue for thee with him may be a happy issue.” Then drowsiness overcame the Sultan, so he slept;3 — And Shahrazad perceived the approach of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 So, in the Romance of Dalhamah (Zát al-Himmah, the heroine the hero Al–Gundubah (“one locust-man”) smites off the head of his mother’s servile murderer and cries, I have taken my blood-revenge upon this traitor slave’” (Lane, M. E. chaps. xx iii.)
2 This gathering all the persons upon the stage before the curtain drops is highly artistic and improbable.
3 He ought to have said his dawn prayers.
Shahrazad began to relate, in these words, the tale of
Quoth she, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that in times of yore and in ages long gone before, a peacock abode with his wife on the seashore. Now the place was infested with lions and all manner wild beasts, withal it abounded in trees and streams. So cock and hen were wont to roost by night upon one of the trees, being in fear of the beasts, and went forth by day questing food. And they ceased not thus to do till their fear increased on them and they searched for some place wherein to dwell other than their old dwelling place; and in the course of their search behold, they happened on an island abounding in streams and trees. So they alighted there and ate of its fruits and drank of its waters. But whilst they were thus engaged, lo! up came to them a duck in a state of extreme terror, and stayed not faring forwards till she reached the tree whereon were perched the two peafowl, when she seemed re assured in mind. The peacock doubted not but that she had some rare story; so he asked her of her case and the cause of her concern, whereto she answered, “I am sick for sorrow, and my horror of the son of Adam:2 so beware, and again I say beware of the sons of Adam!” Rejoined the peacock, “Fear not now that thou hast won our protection.” Cried the duck, “Alhamdolillah! glory to God, who hath done away my cark and care by means of you being near! For indeed I come of friendship fain with you twain.” And when she had ended her speech the peacock’s wife came down to her and said, “Well come and welcome and fair cheer! No harm shall hurt thee: how can son of Adam come to us and we in this isle which lieth amiddlemost of the sea? From the land he cannot reach us neither can he come against us from the water. So be of good cheer and tell us what hath betided thee from the child of Adam.” Answered the duck, “Know, then, O thou peahen, that of a truth I have dwelt all my life in this island safely and peacefully, nor have I seen any disquieting thing, till one night, as I was asleep, I sighted in my dream the semblance of a son of Adam, who talked with me and I with him. Then I heard a voice say to me, ‘O thou duck, beware of the son of Adam and be not imposed on by his words nor by that he may suggest to thee; for he aboundeth in wiles and guiles; so beware with all wariness of his perfidy, for again I say, he is crafty and right cunning even as singeth of him the poet,
He’ll offer sweetmeats with his edgèd tongue,
And fox thee with the foxy guile of fox.
And know thou that the son of Adam circumventeth the fishes and draweth them forth of the seas; and he shooteth the birds with a pellet of clay3 and trappeth the elephant with his craft. None is safe from his mischief and neither bird nor beast escapeth him; and on this wise have I told thee what I have heard concerning the son of Adam.’ So I awoke, fearful and trembling and from that hour to this my heart hath not known gladness, for dread of the son of Adam, lest he surprise me unawares by his wile or trap me in his snares. By the time the end of the day overtook me, my strength was grown weak and my spunk failed me; so, desiring to eat and drink, I went forth walking, troubled in spirit and with a heart ill at ease. Now when I reached yonder mountain I saw a tawny lion whelp at the door of a cave, and sighting me he joyed in me with great joy, for my colour pleased him and my gracious shape; so he cried out to me saying, ‘Draw nigh unto me.’ I went up to him and he asked me, ‘What is thy name, and what is thy nature?’ Answered I, ‘My name is Duck, and I am of the bird kind;’ and I added, ‘But thou, why tarriest thou in this place till this time?’ Answered the whelp, ‘My father the lion hath for many a day warned me against the son of Adam, and it came to pass this night that I saw in my sleep the semblance of a son of Adam.’ And he went on to tell me the like of that I have told you. When I heard these words, I said to him, ‘O lion, I take asylum with thee, that thou mayest kill the son of Adam and be steadfast in resolve to his slaughter; verily I fear him for myself with extreme fear and to my fright affright is added for that thou also dreadest the son of Adam, albeit thou art Sultan of savage beasts.’ Then I ceased not, O my sister, to bid the young lion beware of the son of Adam and urge him to slay him, till he rose of a sudden and at once from his stead and went out and he fared on, and I after him and I noted him lashing flanks with tail. We advanced in the same order till we came to a place where the roads forked and saw a cloud of dust arise which, presently clearing away, discovered below it a runaway naked ass, now galloping and running at speed and now rolling in the dust. When the lion saw the ass, he cried out to him, and he came up to him in all humility. Then said the lion, ‘Harkye, crack brain brute! What is thy kind and what be the cause of thy coming hither?’ He replied, ‘O son of the Sultan! I am by kind an ass — Asinus Caballus — and the cause of my coming to this place is that I am fleeing from the son of Adam.’ Asked the lion whelp, ‘Dost thou fear then that he will kill thee?’ Answered the ass, ‘Not so, O son of the Sultan, but I dread lest he put a cheat on me and mount upon me; for he hath a thing called Pack saddle, which he setteth on my back; also a thing called Girths which he bindeth about my belly; and a thing called Crupper which he putteth under my tail, and a thing called Bit which he placeth in my mouth: and he fashioneth me a goad4 and goadeth me with it and maketh me run more than my strength. If I stumble he curseth me, and if I bray, he revileth me;5 and at last when I grow old and can no longer run, he putteth on me a panel6 of wood and delivereth me to the water carriers, who load my back with water from the river in skins and other vessels, such as jars, and I cease not to wone in misery and abasement and fatigue till I die, when they cast me on the rubbish-heaps to the dogs. So what grief can surpass this grief and what calamities can be greater than these calamities?’ Now when I heard, O peahen, the ass’s words, my skin shuddered, and became as gooseflesh at the son of Adam; and I said to the lion whelp, ‘O my lord, the ass of a verity hath excuse and his words add terror to my terror.’ Then quoth the young lion to the ass, ‘Whither goest thou?’ Quoth he, ‘Before sunrise I espied the son of Adam afar off, and fled from him; and now I am minded to flee forth and run without ceasing for the greatness of my fear of him, so haply I may find me a place of shelter from the perfidious son of Adam.’ Whilst the ass was thus discoursing with the lion whelp, seeking the while to take leave of us and go away, behold, appeared to us another cloud of dust, whereat the ass brayed and cried out and looked hard and let fly a loud fart7. After a while the dust lifted and discovered a black steed finely dight with a blaze on the forehead like a dirham round and bright;8 handsomely marked about the hoof with white and with firm strong legs pleasing to sight and he neighed with affright. This horse ceased not running till he stood before the whelp, the son of the lion who, when he saw him, marvelled and made much of him and said, ‘What is thy kind, O majestic wild beast and wherefore freest thou into this desert wide and vast?’ He replied, O lord of wild beasts, I am a steed of the horse kind, and the cause of my running is that I am fleeing from the son of Adam.’ The lion whelp wondered at the horse’s speech and cried to him ‘Speak not such words for it is shame to thee, seeing that thou art tall and stout. And how cometh it that thou fearest the son of Adam, thou, with thy bulk of body and thy swiftness of running when I, for all my littleness of stature am resolved to encounter the son of Adam and, rushing on him, eat his flesh, that I may allay the affright of this poor duck and make her dwell in peace in her own place? But now thou hast come here and thou hast wrung my heart with thy talk and turned me back from what I had resolved to do, seeing that, for all thy bulk, the son of Adam hath mastered thee and hath feared neither thy height nor thy breadth, albeit, wert thou to kick him with one hoof thou wouldst kill him, nor could he prevail against thee, but thou wouldst make him drink the cup of death.’ The horse laughed when he heard the whelps words and replied, ‘Far, far is it from my power to overcome him, O Prince. Let not my length and my breadth nor yet my bulk delude thee with respect to the son of Adam; for that he, of the excess of his guile and his wiles, fashioneth me a thing called Hobble and applieth to my four legs a pair of ropes made of palm fibres bound with felt, and gibbeteth me by the head to a high peg, so that I being tied up remain standing and can neither sit nor lie down. And when he is minded to ride me, he bindeth on his feet a thing of iron called Stirrup9 and layeth on my back another thing called Saddle, which he fasteneth by two Girths passed under my armpits. Then he setteth in my mouth a thing of iron he calleth Bit, to which he tieth a thing of leather called Rein; and, when he sitteth in the saddle on my back, he taketh the rein in his hand and guideth me with it, goading my flanks the while with the shovel stirrups till he maketh them bleed. So do not ask, O son of our Sultan, the hardships I endure from the son of Adam. And when I grow old and lean and can no longer run swiftly, he selleth me to the miller who maketh me turn in the mill, and I cease not from turning night and day till I grow decrepit. Then he in turn vendeth me to the knacker who cutteth my throat and flayeth off my hide and plucketh out my tail, which he selleth to the sieve maker; and he melteth down my fat for tallow candles.’ When the young lion heard the horse’s words, his rage and vexation redoubled and he said, ‘When didst thou leave the son of Adam? Replied the horse, ‘At midday and he is upon my track.’ Whilst the whelp was thus conversing with the horse lo! there rose a cloud of dust and, presently opening out, discovered below it a furious camel gurgling and pawing the earth with his feet and never ceasing so to do till he came up with us. Now when the lion whelp saw how big and buxom he was, he took him to be the son of Adam and was about to spring upon him when I said to him, ‘O Prince, of a truth this is not the son of Adam, this be a camel, and he seemeth to fleeing from the son of Adam.’ As I was thus conversing, O my sister, with the lion whelp, the camel came up and saluted him; whereupon he returned the greeting and said, ‘What bringeth thee hither?’ Replied he, ‘I came here fleeing from the son of Adam.’ Quoth the whelp, ‘And thou, with thy huge frame and length and breadth, how cometh it that thou fearest the son of Adam, seeing that with one kick of thy foot thou wouldst kill him?’ Quoth the camel, ‘O son of the Sultan, know that the son of Adam hath subtleties and wiles, which none can withstand nor can any prevail against him, save only Death; for he putteth into my nostrils a twine of goat’s hair he calleth Nose-ring,10 and over my head a thing he calleth Halter; then he delivereth me to the least of his little children, and the youngling draweth me along by the nose ring, my size and strength notwithstanding. Then they load me with the heaviest of burdens and go long journeys with me and put me to hard labour through the hours of the night and the day. When I grow old and stricken in years and disabled from working, my master keepeth me not with him, but selleth me to the knacker who cutteth my throat and vendeth my hide to the tanners and my flesh to the cooks: so do not ask the hardships I suffer from the son of Adam.’ ‘When didst thou leave the son of Adam?’ asked the young lion; and he answered, ‘At sundown, and I suppose that coming to my place after my departure and not finding me there, he is now in search of me: wherefore let me go, O son of the Sultan, that I may flee into the wolds and the wilds.’ Said the whelp, ‘Wait awhile, O camel, till thou see how I will tear him, and give thee to eat of his flesh, whilst I craunch his bones and drink his blood.’ Replied the camel, ‘O King’s son, I fear for thee from the child of Adam, for he is wily and guilefull.’ And he began repeating these verses:—
‘When the tyrant enters the lieges’ land,
Naught remains for the lieges but quick remove!’
Now whilst the camel was speaking with the lion whelp, behold, there rose a cloud of dust which, after a time, opened and showed an old man scanty of stature and lean of limb; and he bore on his shoulder a basket of carpenter’s tools and on his head a branch of a tree and eight planks. He led little children by the hand and came on at a trotting pace,11 never stopping till he drew near the whelp. When I saw him, O my sister, I fell down for excess of fear; but the young lion rose and walked forward to meet the carpenter and when he came up to him, the man smiled in his face and said to him, with a glib tongue and in courtly terms, ‘O King who defendeth from harm and lord of the long arm, Allah prosper thine evening and thine endeavouring and increase thy valiancy and strengthen thee! Protect me from that which hath distressed me and with its mischief hath oppressed me, for I have found no helper save only thyself.’ And the carpenter stood in his presence weeping and wailing and complaining. When the whelp heard his sighing and his crying he said, ‘I will succour thee from that thou fearest. Who hath done thee wrong and what art thou, O wild beast, whose like in my life I never saw, nor ever espied one goodlier of form or more eloquent of tongue than thou? What is thy case?’ Replied the man, ‘O lord of wild beasts, as to myself I am a carpenter; but as to who hath wronged me, verily he is a son of Adam, and by break of dawn after this coming night12 he will be with thee in this place.’ When the lion whelp heard these words of the carpenter, the light was changed to night before his sight and he snorted and roared with ire and his eyes cast forth sparks of fire. Then he cried out saying, ‘By Allah, I will assuredly watch through this coming night till dawn, nor will I return to my father till I have won my will.’ Then he turned to the carpenter and asked, ‘Of a truth I see thou art short of step and I would not hurt thy feelings for that I am generous of heart; yet do I deem thee unable to keep pace with the wild beasts: tell me then whither thou goest?’ Answered the carpenter, ‘Know that I am on my way to thy father’s Wazir, the lynx; for when he heard that the son of Adam had set foot in this country he feared greatly for himself and sent one of the wild beasts on a message for me, to make him a house wherein he should dwell, that it might shelter him and fend off his enemy from him, so not one of the sons of Adam should come at him. Accordingly I took up these planks and set forth to find him.’ Now when the young lion heard these words he envied the lynx and said to the carpenter, ‘By my life there is no help for it but thou make me a house with these planks ere thou make one for Sir Lynx! When thou hast done my work, go to him and make him whatso he wisheth.’ The carpenter replied, ‘O lord of wild beasts, I cannot make thee aught till I have made the lynx what he desireth: then will I return to thy service and build thee a house as a fort to ward thee from thy foe.’ Exclaimed the lion whelp, ‘By Allah, ‘I will not let thee leave this place till thou build me a house of planks.’ So saying he made for the carpenter and sprang upon him, thinking to jest with him, and cuffed him with his paw knocking the basket off his shoulder; and threw him down in a fainting fit, whereupon the young lion laughed at him and said, ‘Woe to thee, O carpenter, of a truth thou art feeble and hast no force; so it is excusable in thee to fear the son of Adam.’ Now when the carpenter fell on his back, he waxed exceeding wroth; but he dissembled his wrath for fear of the whelp and sat up and smiled in his face, saying, ‘Well, I will make for thee the house.’ With this he took the planks he had brought and nailed together the house, which he made in the form of a chest after the measure of the young lion. And he left the door open, for he had cut in the box a large aperture, to which he made a stout cover and bored many holes therein. Then he took out some newly wrought nails and a hammer and said to the young lion, ‘Enter the house through this opening, that I may fit it to thy measure.’ Thereat the whelp rejoiced and went up to the opening, but saw that it was strait; and the carpenter said to him, ‘Enter and crouch down on thy legs and arms!’ So the whelp did thus and entered the chest, but his tail remained outside. Then he would have drawn back and come. out; but the carpenter said to him, ‘Wait patiently a while till I see if there be room for thy tail with thee.’ The young lion did as he was bid when the carpenter twisted up his tail and, stuffing it into the chest, whipped the lid on to the opening and nailed it down; whereat the whelp cried out and said, ‘O carpenter, what is this narrow house thou hast made me? Let me out, sirrah!’ But the carpenter answered, ‘Far be it, far be it from thy thought! Repentance for past avails naught, and indeed of this place thou shalt not come out.’ He then laughed and resumed, ‘Verily thou art fallen into the trap and from thy duress there is no escape, O vilest of wild beasts!’ Rejoined the whelp, ‘O my brother, what manner of words are these thou addresses” to me?’ The carpenter replied ‘know, O dog of the desert! that thou hast fallen into that which thou fearedst: Fate hath upset thee, nor shall caution set thee up. ‘ When the whelp heard these words, O my sister, he knew that this was indeed the very son of Adam, against whom he had been warned by his sire in waking state and by the mysterious Voice in sleeping while; and I also was certified that this was indeed he without doubt; wherefore great fear of him for myself seized me and I withdrew a little apart from him and waited to see what he would do with the young lion. Then I saw, O my sister, the son of Adam dig a pit in that place hard by the chest which held the whelp and, throwing the box into the hole, heap dry wood upon it and burn the young lion with fire. At this sight, O sister mine, my fear of the son of Adam redoubled and in my affright I have been these two days fleeing from him.” But when the peahen heard from the duck this story — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Here begins what I hold to be the oldest subject matter in The Nights, the apologues or fables proper; but I reserve further remarks for the Terminal Essay. Lane has most objectionably thrown this and sundry of the following stories into a note (vol. ii., pp. 53–69).
2 In beast stories generally when man appears he shows to disadvantage.
3 Shakespeare’s “stone bow” not Lane’s “cross-bow” (ii. 53).
4 The goad still used by the rascally Egyptian donkey-boy is a sharp nail at the end of a stick; and claims the special attention of societies for the protection of animals.
5 “The most ungrateful of all voices surely is the voice of asses” (Koran xxxi. 18); and hence the “braying of hell” (Koran Ixvii.7). The vulgar still believe that the donkey brays when seeing the Devil. “The last animal which entered the Ark with Noah was the Ass to whose tail Iblis was clinging. At the threshold the ass seemed troubled and could enter no further when Noah said to him:—“Fie upon thee! come in.” But as the ass was still troubled and did not advance Noah cried:—“Come in, though the Devil be with thee!”, so the ass entered and with him Iblis. Thereupon Noah asked:—“O enemy of Allah who brought thee into the Ark?”, and Iblis answered:—“Thou art the man, for thou saidest to the ass, ‘come in though the Devil be with thee!” (Kitáb al-Unwán fi Makáid al-Niswán quoted by Lane ii. 54).
6 Arab. “Rihl,” a wooden saddle stuffed with straw and matting. In Europe the ass might complain that his latter end is the sausage. In England they say no man sees a dead donkey: I have seen dozens and, unfortunately, my own.
7 The English reader will not forget Sterne’s old mare. Even Al–Hariri, the prince of Arab rhetoricians, does not distain to use “pepedit,” the effect being put for the cause — terror. But Mr. Preston (p. 285) and polite men translate by “fled in haste” the Arabic farted for fear.”
8 This is one of the lucky signs and adds to the value of the beast. There are some fifty of these marks, some of them (like a spiral of hair in the breast which denotes that the rider is a cuckold) so ill-omened that the animal can be bought for almost nothing. Of course great attention is paid to colours, the best being the dark rich bay (“red” of Arabs) with black points, or the flea-bitten grey (termed Azrak=blue or Akhzar=green) which whitens with age. The worst are dun, cream coloured, piebald and black, which last are very rare. Yet according to the Mishkát al-Masábih (Lane 2, 54) Mohammed said, ‘The best horses are black (dark brown?) with white blazes (Arab. “Ghurrah”) and upper lips; next, black with blaze and three white legs (bad, because white- hoofs are brittle):next, bay with white blaze and white fore and hind legs.” He also said, “Prosperity is with sorrel horses;” and praised a sorrel with white forehead and legs; but he dispraised the “Shikál,” which has white stockings (Arab. “Muhajjil”) on alternate hoofs (e.g. right hind and left fore). The curious reader will consult Lady Anne Blunt’s “Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates, with some Account of the Arabs and their Horses” (1879); but he must remember that it treats of the frontier tribes. The late Major Upton also left a book “Gleanings from the Desert of Arabia” (1881); but it is a marvellous production deriving e.g. Khayl (a horse generically) from Kohl or antimony (p. 275). What the Editor was dreaming of I cannot imagine. I have given some details concerning the Arab horse especially in Al–Yaman, among the Zú Mohammed, the Zú Husayn and the Banu Yam in Pilgrimage iii. 270. As late as Marco Polo’s day they supplied the Indian market via Aden; but the “Eye o Al–Yaman” has totally lost the habit of exporting horses.
9 The shovel-iron which is the only form of spur.
10 Used for the dromedary: the baggage-camel is haltered.
11 Arab. “Harwalah,” the pas gymnastique affected when circumambulating the Ka’abah (Pilgrimage iii. 208).
12 “This night” would be our “last night”: the Arabs, I repeat, say “night and day,” not “day and night.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the peahen heard from the duck this story, she wondered with exceeding wonder and said to her, “O my sister, here thou art safe from the son of Adam, for we are in one of the islands of the sea whither there is no way for the son of Adam; so do thou take up thine abode with us till Allah make easy thy case and our case. Quoth the duck, “I fear lest some calamity come upon me by night, for no runaway can rid him of fate by flight.” Rejoined the peahen, “Abide with us, and be like unto, us;” and ceased not to persuade her, till she yielded, saying, “O my sister, thou knowest how weak is my resistance; but verily had I not seen thee here, I had not remained.” Said the peahen, “That which is on our foreheads1 we must indeed fulfil, and when our doomed day draweth near, who shall deliver us? But not a soul departeth except it have accomplished its predestined livelihood and term. Now the while they talked thus, a cloud of dust appeared and approached them, at sight of which the duck shrieked aloud and ran down into the sea, crying out, “Beware! beware! though flight there is not from Fate and Lot!”2 After awhile the dust opened out and discovered under it an antelope; whereat the duck and the peahen were reassured and the peacock’s wife said to her companion, “O my sister, this thou seest and wouldst have me beware of is an antelope, and here he is, making for us. He will do us no hurt, for the antelope feedeth upon the herbs of the earth and, even as thou art of the bird kind, so is he of the beast kind. Be there fore of good cheer and cease care taking; for care taking wasteth the body.” Hardly had the peahen done speaking, when the antelope came up to them, thinking to shelter him under the shade of the tree; and, sighting the peahen and the duck, saluted them and said, ‘I came to this island to-day and I have seen none richer in herbage nor pleasanter for habitation.” Then he besought them for company and amity and, when they saw his friendly behaviour to them, they welcomed him and gladly accepted his offer. So they struck up a sincere friendship and sware thereto; and they slept in one place and they ate and drank together; nor did they cease dwelling in safety, eating and drinking their fill, till one day there came thither a ship which had strayed from her course in the sea. She cast anchor near them and the crew came forth and dispersed about the island. They soon caught sight of the three friends, antelope, peahen and duck, and made for them; whereupon the peahen flew up into the tree and thence winged her way through air; and the antelope fled into the desert, but the duck abode paralyzed by fear. So they chased her till they caught her and she cried out and said, “Caution availed me naught against Fate and Lot!’; and they bore her off to the ship. Now when the peahen saw what had betided the duck, she removed from the island, saying, “I see that misfortunes lie in ambush for all. But for yonder ship, parting had not befallen between me and this duck, because she was one of the truest of friends.” Then she flew off and rejoined the antelope, who saluted her and gave her joy of her safety and asked for the duck, to which she replied, “The enemy hath taken her, and I loathe the sojourn of this island after her.” Then she wept for the loss of the duck and began repeating,
“The day of parting cut my heart in twain:
In twain may Allah cut the parting-day!
And she spake also this couplet,
“I pray some day that we reunion gain,
So may I tell him Parting’s ugly way.”
The antelope sorrowed with great sorrow, but dissuaded the peahen from her resolve to remove from the island. So they abode there together with him, eating and drinking, in peace and safety, except that they ceased not to mourn for the loss of the duck; and the antelope said to the peahen, “O my sister, thou seest how the folk who came forth of the ship were the cause of our severance from the duck and of her destruction; so do thou beware of them and guard thyself from them and from the wile of the son of Adam and his guile.” But the peahen replied, I am assured that nought caused her death save her neglecting to say Subhan’ Allah, glory to God; indeed I often said to her, ‘Exclaim thou, ‘Praised be Allah, and verily I fear for thee, because thou neglectest to laud the Almighty; for all things created by Allah glorify Him on this wise, and whoso neglecteth the formula of praise3 him destruction waylays.’” When the antelope heard the peahen’s words he exclaimed, “Allah make fair thy face!” and betook himself to repeating the formula of praise, and ceased not there from a single hour. And it is said that his form of adoration was as follows, “Praise be to the Requiter of every good and evil thing, the Lord of Majesty and of Kings the King!” And a tale is also told on this wise of
1 The vulgar belief is that man’s fate is written upon his skull, the sutures being the writing.
2 Koran ii. 191.
3 Arab. “Tasbíh”=saying, “Subhán’ Allah.” It also means a rosary (Egypt. Sebhah for Subhah) a string of 99 beads divided by a longer item into sets of three and much fingered by the would-appear pious. The professional devotee carries a string of wooden balls the size of pigeons’ eggs.
A certain hermit worshipped on a certain mountain, whither resorted a pair of pigeons; and the worshipper was wont to make two parts of his daily bread — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the worshipper was wont to make two parts of his daily bread, eating one half himself and giving the other to the pigeon pair. He also prayed for them both that they might be blest with issue so they increased and multiplied greatly. Now they resorted only to that mountain where the hermit was, and the reason of their fore- gathering with the holy man was their assiduity in repeating “Praised be Allah!” for it is recounted that the pigeon1 in praise, “Praised be the Creator of all Creatures, the Distributor of daily bread, the Builder of the heavens and Dispreader of the earths!” And that couple ceased not to dwell together in the happiest of life, they and their brood till the holy man died, when the company of the pigeons was broken up and they dispersed among the towns and villages and mountains. Now it is told that on a certain other mountain there dwelt a shepherd, a man of piety and good sense and chastity; and he had flocks of sheep which he tended, and he made his living by their milk and wool. The mountain which gave him a home abounded in trees and pasturage and also in wild beasts, but these had no power over his flocks; so he ceased not to dwell upon that highland in full security, taking no thought to the things of the world, by reason of his beatitude and his assiduity in prayer and devotion, till Allah ordained that he should fall sick with exceeding sickness. Thereupon he betook himself to a cavern in the mountain and his sheep used to go out in the morning to the pasturage and take refuge at night in the cave. But Allah Almighty, being minded to try him and prove his patience and his obedience, sent him one of His angels, who came in to him in the semblance of a fair woman and sat down before him. When the shepherd saw that woman seated before him, his flesh shuddered at her with horripilation2 and he said to her, ‘O thou woman, what was it invited thee to this my retreat? I have no need of thee, nor is there aught betwixt me and thee which calleth for thy coming in to me.” Quoth she, “O man, cost thou not behold my beauty and loveliness and the fragrance of my breath; and knowest thou not the need women have of men and men of women? So who shall forbid thee from me when I have chosen to be near thee and desire to enjoy thy company? Indeed, I come to thee willingly and do not withhold myself from thee, and near us there is none whom we need fear; and I wish to abide with thee as long as thou sojournest in this mountain, and be thy companion and thy true friend. I offer myself to thee, for thou needest the service of woman: and if thou have carnal connection with me and know me, thy sickness shall be turned from thee and health return to thee; and thou wilt repent thee of the past for having foresworn the company of women during the days that are now no more. In very sooth, I give thee good advice: so incline to my counsel and approach me.” Quoth the shepherd, “Go out from me, O woman deceitful and perfidious! I will not incline to thee nor approach thee. I want not thy company nor wish for union with thee; he who coveteth the coming life renounceth thee, for thou seducest mankind, those of past time and those of present time. Allah the Most High lieth in wait for His servants and woe unto him who is cursed with thy company!” Answered she, “O thou that errest from the truth and wanderest from the way of reason, turn thy face to me and look upon my charms and take thy full of my nearness, as did the wise who have gone before thee. Indeed, they were richer than thou in experience and sharper of wit; withal they rejected not, as thou rejectest, the enjoyment of women; nay, they took their pleasure of them and their company even as thou renouncest them, and it did them no hurt in things temporal or things spiritual. Wherefore do thou recede from thy resolve and thou shalt praise the issue of thy case.” Rejoined the shepherd, “All thou sayest I deny and abhor, and all thou offerest I reject: for thou art cunning and perfidious and there is no honesty in thee nor is there honour. How much of foulness hidest thou under thy beauty, and how many a pious man hast thou seduced from his duty and made his end penitence and perdition? Avaunt from me, O thou who devotest thyself to corrupt others!” Thereupon, he threw his goat’s hair cloak over his head that he might not see her face, and betook himself to calling upon the name of his Lord. And when the angel saw the excellence of his submission to the Divine Will, he went out from him and ascended to heaven. Now hard by the hermit’s hill was a village wherein dwelt a pious man, who knew not the other’s station, till one night he heard in a dream a Voice saying to him, “In such a place near to thee is a devout man: go thou to him and be at his command!” So when morning dawned he set out to wend thither, and what time the heat was grievous upon him, he came to a tree which grew beside a spring of running water. So he sat down to rest in the shadow of that tree and behold, he saw beasts and birds coming to that fount to drink, but when they caught sight of the devotee sitting there, they took fright and fled from before his face. Then said he, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! I rest not here but to the hurt of these beasts and fowls.” So he arose, blaming him self and saying, “Verily my tarrying here this day hath wronged these animals, and what excuse have I towards my Creator and the Creator of these birds and beasts for that I was the cause of their flight from their drink and their daily food and their place of pasturage? Alas for my shame before my Lord on the day when He shall avenge the hornless sheep on the sheep with horns!’’3 And he wept and began repeating these couplets,
“Now an, by Allah, unto man were fully known
Why he is made, in careless sleep he ne’er would wone:
First Death, then cometh Wake and dreadful Day of Doom,
Reproof with threats sore terror, frightful malison.
Bid we or else forbid we, all of us are like
The Cave companions4 when at length their sleep was done.”
Then he again wept for that he had driven the birds and beasts from the spring by sitting down under the tree, and he fared on till he came to the shepherd’s dwelling and going in, saluted him. The shepherd returned his salutation and embraced him, weeping and saying, “What hath brought thee to this place where no man hath ever yet come to me.” Quoth the other devotee, “I saw in my sleep one who described to me this thy stead and bade me repair to thee and salute thee: so I came, in obedience to the commandment.” The shepherd welcomed him, rejoicing in his company and the twain abode upon that mountain, worshipping Allah with the best of worship; and they ceased not serving their Lord in the cavern and living upon the flesh and milk of their sheep, having clean put away from them riches and children and what not, till the Certain, the Inevitable became their lot. And this is the end of their story. Then said King Shahyrar, “O Shahrazad, thou wouldst cause me to renounce my kingdom and thou makest me repent of having slain so many women and maidens. Hast thou any bird stories?” “Yes,” replied she, and began to tell the
1 The pigeon is usually made to say, ‘ “Wahhidú Rabba-kumu ‘‘llazi khalaka-kum, yaghfiru lakum zamba-kum” = “Unify (Assert the Unity of) your Lord who created you; so shall He forgive your sin!” As might be expected this “language” is differently interpreted. Pigeon-superstitions are found in all religions and I have noted (Pilgrimage iii, 218) how the Hindu deity of Destruction — reproduction, the third Person of their Triad, Shiva and his Spouse (or active Energy), are supposed to have dwelt at Meccah under the titles of Kapoteshwara (Pigeon-god) and Kapoteshí (Pigeon-goddess).
2 I have seen this absolute horror of women amongst the Monks of the Coptic Convents.
3 After the Day of Doom, when men’s actions are registered, that of mutual retaliation will follow and all creatures (brutes included) will take vengeance on one another.
4 The Comrades of the Cave, famous in the Middle Ages of Christianity (Gibbon chaps. xxxiii.), is an article of faith with Moslems, being part subject of chapter xviii., the Koranic Surah termed the Cave. These Rip Van Winkle-tales begin with Endymion so famous amongst the Classics and Epimenides of Crete who slept fifty-seven years; and they extend to modern days as La Belle au Bois dormant. The Seven Sleepers are as many youths of Ephesus (six royal councillors and a shepherd, whose names are given on the authority of Ali); and, accompanied by their dog, they fled the persecutions of Dakianús (the Emperor Decius) to a cave near Tarsús in Natolia where they slept for centuries. The Caliph Mu’awiyah when passing the cave sent into it some explorers who were all killed by a burning wind. The number of the sleepers remains uncertain, according to the Koran (ibid. v. 21) three, five or seven and their sleep lasted either three hundred or three hundred and nine years. The dog (ibid. v. 17) slept at the cave-entrance with paws outstretched and, according to the general, was called “Katmir” or “Kitmir;” but Al–Rakím (v. 8) is also applied to it by some. Others hold this to be the name of the valley or mountain and others of a stone or leaden tablet on which their names were engraved by their countrymen who built a chapel on the spot (v. 20). Others again make the Men of Al–Rakím distinct from the Cave-men, and believe (with Bayzáwi) that they were three youths who were shut up in a grotto by a rock-slip. Each prayed for help through the merits of some good deed: when the first had adjured Allah the mountain cracked till light appeared; at the second petition it split so that they saw one another and after the third it opened. However that may be, Kitmir is one of the seven favoured animals: the others being the Hudhud (hoopoe) of Solomon (Koran xxii. 20); the she-camel of Sálih (chaps. Ixxxvii.); the cow of Moses which named the Second Surah; the fish of Jonah; the serpent of Eve, and the peacock of Paradise. For Koranic revelations of the Cave see the late Thomas Chenery (p. 414 The Assemblies of Al–Hariri: Williams and Norgate, 1870) who borrows from the historian Tabari.
It is related by truthful men, O King, that a certain bird flew high up firmament wards and presently lit on a rock in the midst of water which was running. And as he sat there, behold, the current carried to him the carcass of a man, and lodged it against the rock, for being swollen it floated. The bird, which was a water fowl, drew near and examining it, found that it was the dead body of a son of Adam and saw in it sign of spear and stroke of sword. So he said to himself, “I presume that this man who hath been slain was some evil doer, and that a company banded themselves together against him and put him to death and were at peace from him and his evil doing.” And as he continued marvelling at this, suddenly the vultures and kites came down upon the carcass from all sides and get round it; which when the water fowl saw, he feared with sore affright and said, “I cannot abide here any longer.” So he flew away in quest of a place where he might wone, till that carcass should come to an end and the birds of prey leave it; and he stayed not in his flight, till he found a river with a tree in its midst. So he alighted on the tree, troubled and distraught and sore grieved for departing from his birth place, and said to himself, “Verily sorrows cease not to follow me: I was at my ease when I saw that carcass, and rejoiced therein with much joy, saying, ‘This is a gift of daily bread which Allah hath dealt to me:’ but my joy became annoy and my gladness turned to sadness, for the ravenous birds, which are like lions, seized upon it and tare it to pieces and came between me and my prize So how can I hope to be secure from misfortune in this world, or put any trust therein? Indeed, the proverb saith,‘The world is the dwelling of him who hath no dwelling’: he who hath no wits is cozened by it and entrusteth it with his wealth and his child and his family and his folk; and whoso is cozened ceaseth not to rely upon it, pacing proudly upon earth until he is laid under earth and the dust is cast over his corpse by him who of all men was dearest to him and nearest. But naught is better for generous youth than patience under its cares and miseries. I have left my native place and it is abhorrent to me to quit my brethren and friends and loved ones.” Now whilst he was thus musing lo! a male tortoise descended into the river and, approaching the water fowl, saluted him, saying, “O my lord, what hath exiled thee and driven thee so far from thy place?” Replied the water fowl, “The descent of enemies thereon; for the wise brooketh not the neighbourhood of his foe; and how well saith the poet,
“Whenas on any land the oppressor doth alight,
There’s nothing left for those, that dwell therein, but flight.”1
Quoth the tortoise, “If the matter be as thou sayest and the case as thou describest, I will not leave thee nor cease to stand before thee, that I may do thy need and fulfil thy service; for it is said that there is no sorer desolation than that of him who is an exile, cut off from friends and home; and it is also said that no calamity equalleth that of severance from the good; but the best solace for men of understanding is to seek companionship in strangerhood and be patient under sorrows and adversity. Wherefore I hope that thou wilt approve of my company, for I will be to thee a servant and a helper.” Now when the water fowl heard the tortoise’s words he answered, “Verily, thou art right in what thou sayest for, by my life, I have found grief and pain in separation, what while I have been parted from my place and sundered from my brethren and friends; seeing that in severance is an admonition to him who will be admonished and matter of thought for him who will take thought. If the generous youth find not a companion to console him, weal is forever cut off from him and ill is eternally established with him; and there is nothing for the sage but to solace himself in every event with brethren and be constant in patience and endurance: indeed these two are praiseworthy qualities, and both uphold one under calamities and vicissitudes of the world and ward off startling sorrows and harrowing cares, come what will.” Rejoined the tortoise, “Beware of sorrow, for it will spoil thy life and waste thy manliness.” And the two gave not over conversing till the bird said, “Never shall I cease fearing the shifts of time and vicissitudes of events.” When the tortoise heard this, he came up to him and, kissing him between the eyes, said to him, “Never may the company of the birds cease to be blest in thee and through thee, and find wisdom in thy good counsel! How shalt thou be burdened with care and harm?” And he went on to comfort the water fowl and soothe his terrors till he became reassured. Then he flew to the place where the carcass was and found on arriving there the birds of prey gone, and they had left nothing of the body but bones; whereupon he returned to the tortoise and acquainted him with the fact that the foe had disappeared from his place, saying, “Know that of a truth I long for return homewards to enjoy the society of my friends; for the sage cannot endure separation from his native place.” So they both went thither and found naught to affright them; whereupon the water fowl began repeating,
“And haply whenas strait descends on lot of generous youth
Right sore, with Allah only lies his issue from annoy:
He’s straitened, but full oft when rings and meshes straitest clip,
He ’scapes his strait and joyance finds, albe I see no joy.”
So the twain abode in that island; and while the water fowl was enjoying a life of peace and gladness, suddenly Fate led thither a hungry falcon, which drove its talons into the bird’s belly and killed him, nor did caution avail him when his term of life was ended. Now the cause of his death was that he neglected to use the formula of praise, and it is said that his form of adoration was as follows, “Praised be our Lord in that He ordereth and ordaineth; and praised be our Lord in that He enricheth and impoverisheth!” Such was the waterfowl’s end and the tale of the ravenous birds. And when it was finished quoth the Sultan, “O Shahrazad, verily thou overwhelmest me with admonitions and salutary instances. Hast thou any stories of beasts?” “Yes,” answered she, and began to tell the
1 These lines have occurred in Night cxlvi.: I quote Mr. Payne by way of variety.
Know, O King, that a fox and a wolf once cohabited in the same den, harbouring therein together by day and resorting thither by night; but the wolf was cruel and oppressive to the fox. They abode thus awhile, till it so befel that the fox exhorted the wolf to use gentle dealing and leave off his ill deeds, saying, “If thou persist in thine arrogance, belike Allah will give the son of Adam power over thee, for he is past master in guile and wile; and by his artifice he bringeth down the birds from the firmament and he haleth the mighty fish forth of the flood-waters: and he cutteth the mountain and transporteth it from place to place. All this is of his craft and wiliness: wherefore do thou betake thyself to equity and fair dealing and leave frowardness and tyranny; and thou shalt fare all the better for it.” But the wolf would not accept his counsel and answered him roughly, saying, “What right hast thou to speak of matters of weight and importance?” And he dealt the fox a cuff that laid him senseless; but, when he revived, he smiled in the wolf’s face and, excusing himself for his unseemly speech, repeated these two couplets,
“If any sin I sinned, or did I aught
In love of you, which hateful mischief wrought;
My sin I sore repent and pardon sue;
So give the sinner gift of pardon sought.”
The wolf accepted his excuse and held his hand from further ill-treatment, saying, “Speak not of whatso concerneth thee not, lest thou hear what will please thee not.” Answered the fox, “To hear is to obey!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The wolf (truly enough to nature) is the wicked man without redeeming traits; the fox of Arab folk-lore is the cunning man who can do good on occasion. Here the latter is called “Sa’alab” which may, I have noted, mean the jackal; but further on “Father of a Fortlet” refers especially to the fox. Herodotus refers to the gregarious Canis Aureus when he describes Egyptian wolves as being “not much bigger than foxes” (ii. 67). Canon Rawlinson, in his unhappy version, does not perceive that the Halicarnassian means the jackal and blunders about the hyena.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the wolf to the fox, “Speak not of whatso concerneth thee not, lest thou hear what will please thee not!” Answered the fox, “To hear is to obey! I will abstain henceforth from what pleaseth thee not; for the sage saith, ‘Have a care that thou speak not of that whereof thou art not asked; leave that which concerneth thee not for that which concerneth thee, and by no means lavish good counsel on the wrongous, for they will repay it to thee with wrong.’” And reflecting on the words of the wolf he smiled in his face, but in his heart he meditated treachery against him and privily said, “There is no help but that I compass the destruction of this wolf.” So he bore with his injurious usage, saying to himself, “Verily insolence and evil-speaking are causes of perdition and cast into confusion, and it is said, ‘The insolent is shent and the ignorant doth repent; and whose feareth, to him safety is sent’: moderation marketh the noble and gentle manners are of gains the grandest. It behoveth me to dissemble with this tyrant and needs must he be cast down.” Then quoth he to the wolf, “Verily, the Lord pardoneth his erring servant and relenteth towards him, if he confess his offences; and I am a weak slave and have offended in presuming to counsel thee. If thou knewest the pain that befel me by thy buffet, thou wouldst ken that even the elephant could not stand against it nor endure it: but I complain not of this blow’s hurt, because of the joy and gladness that hath betided me through it; for though it was to me exceeding sore yet was its issue of the happiest. And with sooth saith the sage, ‘The blow of the teacher is at first right hurtful, but the end of it is sweeter than strained honey.’” Quoth the wolf, “I pardon thine offence and I cancel thy fault; but beware of my force and avow thyself my thrall; for thou hast learned my severity unto him who showeth his hostility!” Thereupon the fox prostrated himself before the wolf, saying, “Allah lengthen thy life and mayst thou never cease to overthrow thy foes!” And he stinted not to fear the wolf and to wheedle him and dissemble with him. Now it came to pass that one day, the fox went to a vineyard and saw a breach in its walls; but he mistrusted it and said to himself, “Verily, for this breach there must be some cause and the old saw saith, ‘Whoso seeth a cleft in the earth and shunneth it not and is not wary in approaching it, the same is self-deluded and exposeth himself to danger and destruction.’ Indeed, it is well known that some folk make the figure of a fox in their vineyards; nay, they even set before the semblance grapes in plates, that foxes may see it and come to it and fall into perdition. In very sooth I regard this breach as a snare and the proverb saith, ‘Caution is one half of cleverness.’ Now prudence requireth that I examine this breach and see if there be aught therein which may lead to perdition; and coveting shall not make me cast myself into destruction.” So he went up to the hole and walked round it right warily, and lo! it was a deep pit, which the owner of the vineyard had dug to trap therein the wild beasts which laid waste his vines. Then he said to himself, “Thou hast gained, for that thou hast refrained!”; and he looked and saw that the hole was lightly covered with dust and matting. So he drew back from it saying, “Praised be Allah that I was wary of it! I hope that my enemy, the wolf, who maketh my life miserable, will fall into it; so will the vineyard be left to me and I shall enjoy it alone and dwell therein at peace.” Saying thus, he shook his head and laughed a loud laugh and began versifying,
“Would Heaven I saw at this hour
The Wolf fallen down in this well,
He who anguisht my heart for so long,
And garred me drain eisel and fel!
Heaven grant after this I may live
Free of Wolf for long fortunate spell
When I’ve rid grapes and vineyard of him,
And in bunch-spoiling happily dwell.”
His verse being finished he returned in haste to the wolf and said to him, “Allah hath made plain for thee the way into the vineyard without toil and moil. This is of thine auspicious fortune; so good luck to thee and mayest thou enjoy the plentiful plunder and the profuse provaunt which Allah hath opened up to thee without trouble!” Asked the wolf, “What proof hast thou of what thou assertest?”: and the fox answered, “I went up to the vineyard and found that the owner was dead, having been torn to pieces by wolves: so I entered the orchard and saw the fruit shining upon the trees.” The wolf doubted not the fox’s report and his gluttony gat hold of him; so he arose and repaired to the cleft, for that greed blinded him; whilst the fox falling behind him lay as one dead, quoting to the case the following couplet,
“For Layla’s1 favour dost thou greed? But, bear in mind
Greed is a yoke of harmful weight on neck of man.”
And when the wolf had reached the breach the fox said, “Enter the vineyard: thou art spared the trouble of climbing a ladder, for the garden-wall is broken down, and with Allah it resteth to fulfil the benefit.” So the wolf went on walking and thought to enter the vineyard; but when he came to the middle of the pit-covering he fell through; whereupon the fox shook for joy and gladness; his care and concern left him and he sang out for delight and improvised these couplets,
“Fortune had mercy on the soul of me,
And for my torments now shows clemency,
Granting whatever gift my heart desired,
And far removing what I feared to see:
I will, good sooth, excuse her all her sins
She sinned in days gone by and much sinned she:
Yea, her injustice she hath shown in this,
She whitened locks that were so black of blee:
But now for this same wolf escape there’s none,
Of death and doom he hath full certainty.
Then all the vineyard comes beneath my rule,
I’ll brook no partner who’s so fond a fool.”
Then the fox looked into the cleft and, seeing the wolf weeping in repentance and sorrow for himself, wept with him; whereupon the wolf raised his head to him and asked, “Is it of pity for me thou weepest, O Father of the Fortlet2?” Answered the fox, “No, by Him who cast thee into this pit! I weep for the length of thy past life and for regret that thou didst not fall into the pit before this day; for hadst thou done so before I foregathered with thee, I had rested and enjoyed repose: but thou wast spared till the fulfilment of thine allotted term and thy destined time.” Then the wolf said to him as one jesting, “O evil-doer, go to my mother and tell her what hath befallen me; haply she may devise some device for my release.” Replied the fox, “Of a truth thou hast been brought to destruction by the excess of thy greed and thine exceeding gluttony, since thou art fallen into a pit whence thou wilt never escape. Knowest thou not the common proverb, O thou witless wolf, ‘Whoso taketh no thought as to how things end, him shall Fate never befriend nor shall he safe from perils wend.” “O Reynard,” quoth the wolf, “thou was wont to show me fondness and covet my friendliness and fear the greatness of my strength. Hate me not rancorously because of that I did with thee; for he who hath power and forgiveth, his reward Allah giveth; even as saith the poet,
‘Sow kindness-seed in the unfittest stead;
’Twill not be wasted whereso thou shalt sow:
For kindness albe buried long, yet none
Shall reap the crop save sower who garred it grow.’”
Rejoined the fox, “O witlessest of beasts of prey and stupidest of the wild brutes which the wolds overstray! Hast thou forgotten thine arrogance and insolence and tyranny, and thy disregarding the due of goodfellowship and thy refusing to be advised by what the poet saith?
‘Wrong not thy neighbour e’en if thou have power;
The wronger alway vengeance-harvest reaps:
Thine eyes shall sleep, while bides the wronged on wake
A-cursing thee; and Allah’s eye ne’er sleeps.’”
“O Abu ‘l-Hosayn,” replied the wolf, “twit me not with my past sins; for forgiveness is expected of the generous and doing kind deeds is the truest of treasures. How well saith the poet,
‘Haste to do kindness while thou hast much power,
For at all seasons thou hast not such power.’”
And he ceased not to humble himself before the fox and say, “Haply, thou canst do somewhat to deliver me from destruction.” Replied the fox, “O thou wolf, thou witless, deluded, deceitful trickster! hope not for deliverance, for this is but the just reward of thy foul dealing and its due retaliation.” Then he laughed with chops wide open and repeated these two couplets,
“No longer beguile me,
Thou’lt fail of thy will!
What can’t be thou seekest;
Thou hast sown so reap Ill!”
Quoth the wolf, “O gentlest of ravenous beasts, I fain hold thee too faithful to leave me in this pit.” Then he wept and complained and, with tears streaming from his eyes, recited these two couplets,
“O thou whose favours have been out of compt,
Whose gifts are more than may be numbered!
Never mischance befel me yet from time
But that I found thy hand right fain to aid.”
“O thou ninny foe,” quoth the fox, “how art thou reduced to humiliation and prostration and abjection and submission, after insolence and pride and tyranny and arrogance! Verily, I kept company with thee only for fear of thy fury and I cajoled thee without one hope of fair treatment from thee: but now trembling is come upon thee and vengeance hath overtaken thee.” And he repeated these two couplets,
“O thou who seekest innocence to ‘guile,
Thou’rt caught in trap of thine intentions vile:
Now drain the draught of shamefullest mischance,
And be with other wolves cut off, thou scroyle!”
Replied the wolf, “O thou clement one, speak not with the tongue of enemies nor look with their eyes; but fulfil the covenant of fellowship with me, ere the time of applying remedy cease to be. Rise and make ready to get me a rope and tie one end of it to a tree; then let the other down to me, that I may lay hold of it, so haply I shall from this my strait win free, and I will give thee all my hand possesseth of wealth and fee.” Quoth the fox, “Thou persistest in conversation concerning what will not procure thy liberation. Hope not for this, for thou shalt never, never get of me wherewithal to set thee at liberty; but call to mind thy past misdeeds and the craft and perfidy thou didst imagine against me and bethink thee how near thou art to being stoned to death. For know that thy soul is about the world to quit and cease in it and depart from it; so shalt thou to destruction hie and ill is the abiding-place thou shalt aby!”3 Rejoined the wolf, “O Father of the Fortlet, hasten to return to amity and persist not in this rancorous enmity. Know that whoso from ruin saveth a soul, is as if he had quickened it and made it whole; and whoso saveth a soul alive, is as if he had saved all mankind.4 Follow not frowardness, for the wise forbid it: and it were most manifest frowardness to leave me in this pit draining the agony of death and dight to look upon mine own doom, whenas it lieth in thy power to deliver me from my stowre. So do thy best to release me and deal with me benevolently.” Answered the fox, “O thou base and barbarous wretch, I compare thee, because of the fairness of thy professions and expressions, and the foulness of thy intentions and thy inventions to the Falcon and the Partridge.” Asked the wolf, “How so?”; and the fox began to tell
1 The older “Leila” or “Leyla”: it is a common name and is here applied to woman in general. The root is evidently “layl”=nox, with, probably, the idea, “She walks in beauty like the night.”
2 Arab. Abu ‘l-Hosayn; his hole being his fort (Unexplored Syria, ii. 18).
3 A Koranic phrase often occurring.
4 Koran v. 35.
Once upon a time I entered a vineyard to eat of its grapes; and, whilst so doing behold, I saw a falcon stoop upon a partridge and seize him; but the partridge escaped from the seizer and, entering his nest, hid himself there. The falcon followed apace and called out to him, saying, “O imbecile, I saw thee an-hungered in the wold and took pity on thee; so I picked up for thee some grain and took hold of thee that thou mightest eat; but thou fleddest from me; and I wot not the cause of thy flight, except it were to put upon me a slight. Come out, then, and take the grain I have brought thee to eat and much good may it do thee, and with thy health agree.” When the partridge heard these words, he believed and came out to him, whereupon the falcon struck his talons into him and seized him. Cried the partridge, “Is this that which thou toldest me thou hadst brought me from the wold, and whereof thou badest me eat, saying, ‘Much good may it do thee, and with thy health agree?’ Thou hast lied to me, and may Allah cause what thou eatest of my flesh to be a killing poison in thy maw!” So when the falcon had eaten the partridge, his feathers fell off and his strength failed and he died on the spot. “Know, then, O wolf!” (pursued the fox), “that he who diggeth for his brother a pit himself soon falleth into it, and thou first deceivedst me in mode unfit.” Quoth the wolf, “Spare me this discourse nor saws and tales enforce, and remind me not of my former ill course, for sufficeth me the sorry plight I endure perforce, seeing that I am fallen into a place, in which even my foe would pity me, much more a true friend. Rather find some trick to deliver me and be thou thereby my saviour. If this cause thee trouble, remember that a true friend will undertake the sorest travail for his true friend’s sake and will risk his life to deliver him from evil; and indeed it hath been said, ‘A leal friend is better than a real brother.’ So if thou stir thyself to save me and I be saved, I will forsure gather thee such store as shall be a provision for thee against want however sore; and truly I will teach thee rare tricks whereby to open whatso bounteous vineyards thou please and strip the fruit-laden trees.” Rejoined the fox, laughing, “How excellent is what the learned say of him who aboundeth in ignorance like unto thee!” Asked the wolf, “What do the wise men say?” And the fox answered, “They have observed that the gross of body are gross of mind, far from intelligence and nigh unto ignorance. As for thy saying, O thou stupid, cunning idiot! that a true friend should undertake sore travail for his true friend’s sake, it is sooth as thou sayest, but tell me, of thine ignorance and poverty of intelligence, how can I be a true friend to thee, considering thy treachery. Dost thou count me thy true friend? Nay, I am thy foe who joyeth in thy woe; and couldst thou trow it, this word were sorer to thee than slaughter by shot of shaft. As for thy promise to provide me a store against want however sore and teach me tricks, to plunder whatso bounteous vineyards I please, and spoil fruit-laden trees, how cometh it, O guileful traitor, that thou knowest not a wile to save thyself from destruction? How far art thou from profiting thyself and how far am I from accepting thy counsel! If thou have any tricks, make shift for thyself to save thee from the risk, wherefrom I pray Allah to make thine escape far distant! So look, O fool, if there be any trick with thee; and therewith save thyself from death ere thou lavish instruction upon thy neighbours. But thou art like a certain man attacked by a disease, who went to another diseased with the same disease, and said to him, ‘Shall I heal thee of thy disease?’ Replied the sick man, ‘Why dost thou not begin by healing thyself?’ So he left him and went his way. And thou, O ignorant wolf, art like this; so stay where thou art and under what hath befallen thee be of good heart!” When the wolf heard what the fox said, he knew that from him he had no hope of favour; so he wept for himself, saying, “Verily, I have been heedless of my weal; but if Allah deliver me from this ill I will assuredly repent of my arrogance towards those who are weaker than I, and will wear woollens3 and go upon the mountains, celebrating the praises of Almighty Allah and fearing His punishment. And I will withdraw from the company of other wild beasts and forsure will I feed the poor fighters for the Faith.” Then he wept and wailed, till the heart of the fox softened when he heard his humble words and his professions of penitence for his past insolence and arrogance. So he took pity upon him and sprang up joyfully and, going to the brink of the breach, squatted down on his hind quarters and let his tail hang in the hole; whereupon the wolf arose and putting out his paw, pulled the fox’s tail, so that he fell down in the pit with him. Then said the wolf, “O fox of little mercy, why didst thou exult in my misery, thou that wast my companion and under my dominion? Now thou art fallen into the pit with me and retribution hath soon overtaken thee. Verily, the sages have said, ‘If one of you reproach his brother with sucking the dugs of a bitch, he also shall suck her.’ And how well quoth the poet,
‘When Fortune weighs heavy on some of us,
And makes camel kneel by some other one,4
Say to those who rejoice in our ills:— Awake!
The rejoicer shall suffer as we have done!’
And death in company is the best of things;5 wherefore I will certainly and assuredly hasten to slay thee ere thou see me slain.” Said the fox to himself, “Ah! Ah! I am fallen into the snare with this tyrant, and my case calleth for the use of craft and cunning; for indeed it is said that a woman fashioneth her jewellery for the day of display, and quoth the proverb, ‘I have not kept thee, O my tear, save for the time when distress draweth near.’ And unless I make haste to circumvent this prepotent beast I am lost without recourse; and how well saith the poet,
‘Make thy game by guile, for thou’rt born in a Time
Whose sons are lions in forest lain;
And turn on the leat6 of thy knavery
That the mill of subsistence may grind thy grain;
And pluck the fruits or, if out of reach,
Why, cram thy maw with the grass on plain.’”
Then said the fox to the wolf, “Hasten not to slay me, for that is not the way to pay me and thou wouldst repent it, O thou valiant wild beast, lord of force and exceeding prowess! An thou accord delay and consider what I shall say, thou wilt ken what purpose I proposed; but if thou hasten to kill me it will profit thee naught and we shall both die in this very place.” Answered the wolf “O thou wily trickster, what garreth thee hope to work my deliverance and thine own, that thou prayest me to grant thee delay? Speak and propound to me thy purpose.” Replied the fox, “As for the purpose I proposed, it was one which deserveth that thou guerdon me handsomely for it; for when I heard thy promises and thy confessions of thy past misdeeds and regrets for not having earlier repented and done good; and when I heard thee vowing, shouldst thou escape from this strait, to leave harming thy fellows and others; forswear the eating of grapes and of all manner fruits; devote thyself to humility; cut thy claws and break thy dog-teeth; don woollens and offer thyself as an offering to Almighty Allah, then indeed I had pity upon thee, for true words are the best words. And although before I had been anxious for thy destruction, whenas I heard thy repenting and thy vows of amending should Allah vouchsafe to save thee, I felt bound to free thee from this thy present plight. So I let down my tail, that thou mightest grasp it and be saved. Yet wouldest thou not quit thy wonted violence and habit of brutality; nor soughtest thou to save thyself by fair means, but thou gavest me a tug which I thought would sever body from soul, so that thou and I are fallen into the same place of distress and death. And now there is but one thing can save us and, if thou accept it of me, we shall both escape; and after it behoveth thee to fulfil the vows thou hast made and I will be thy veritable friend.” Asked the wolf, “What is it thou proposest for mine acceptance?” Answered the fox, “It is that thou stand up at full height till I come nigh on a level with the surface of the earth. Then will I give a spring and reach the ground; and, when out of the pit, I will bring thee what thou mayst lay hold of, and thus shalt thou make thine escape.” Rejoined the wolf, “I have no faith in thy word, for sages have said, ‘Whoso practiseth trust in the place of hate, erreth;’ and, ‘Whoso trusteth in the untrustworthy is a dupe; he who re-trieth him who hath been tried shall reap repentance and his days shall go waste; and he who cannot distinguish between case and case, giving each its due, and assigneth all the weight to one side, his luck shall be little and his miseries shall be many.’ How well saith the poet,
‘Let thy thought be ill and none else but ill;
For suspicion is best of the worldling’s skill:
Naught casteth a man into parlous place
But good opinion and (worse) good-will!’
And the saying of another,
‘Be sure all are villains and so bide safe;
Who lives wide awake on few Ills shall light:
Meet thy foe with smiles and a smooth fair brow,
And in heart raise a host for the battle dight!’
And that of yet another,7
‘He thou trusted most is thy worst unfriend;
‘Ware all and take heed with whom thou wend:
Fair opinion of Fortune is feeble sign;
So believe her ill and her Ills perpend!’”
Quoth the fox, “Verily mistrust and ill opinion of others are not to be commended in every case; nay trust and confidence are the characteristics of a noble nature and the issue thereof is freedom from stress of fear. Now it behoveth thee, O thou wolf, to devise some device for thy deliverance from this thou art in, and our escape will be better to us both than our death: so quit thy distrust and rancour; for if thou trust in me one of two things will happen; either I shall bring thee something whereof to lay hold and escape from this case, or I shall abandon thee to thy doom. But this thing may not be, for I am not safe from falling into some such strait as this thou art in, which, indeed, would be fitting punishment of perfidy. Of a truth the adage saith, ‘Faith is fair and faithlessness is foul.’8 So it behoveth thee to trust in me, for I am not ignorant of the haps and mishaps of the world; and delay not to contrive some device for our deliverance, as the case is too close to allow further talk.” Replied the wolf, “For all my want of confidence in thy fidelity, verily I knew what was in thy mind and that thou wast moved to deliver me whenas thou heardest my repentance, and I said to myself, ‘If what he asserteth be true, he will have repaired the ill he did; and if false, it resteth with the Lord to requite him.’ So, look’ee, I have accepted thy proposal and, if thou betray me, may thy traitorous deed be the cause of thy destruction!” Then the wolf stood bolt upright in the pit and, taking the fox upon his shoulders, raised him to the level of the ground, whereupon Reynard gave a spring from his back and lighted on the surface of the earth. When he found himself safely out of the cleft he fell down senseless and the wolf said to him, “O my friend! neglect not my case and delay not to deliver me.” The fox laughed with a loud haw-haw and replied, “O dupe, naught threw me into thy hands save my laughing at thee and making mock of thee; for in good sooth when I heard thee profess repentance, mirth and gladness seized me and I frisked about and made merry and danced, so that my tail hung low into the pit and thou caughtest hold of it and draggedst me down with thee. And the end was that Allah Almighty delivered me from thy power. Then why should I be other than a helper in thy destruction, seeing that thou art of Satan’s host? I dreamt yesterday that I danced at thy wedding and I told my dream to an interpreter who said to me, ‘Verily thou shalt fall into imminent deadly danger and thou shalt escape therefrom.’ So now I know that my falling into thy hand and my escape are the fulfillment of my dream, and thou, O imbecile, knowest me for thy foe; so how couldest thou, of thine ignorance and unintelligence, nurse desire of deliverance at my hands, after all thou hast heard of harsh words from me; and wherefore should I attempt thy salvation whenas the sages have said, ‘In the death of the wicked is rest for mankind and a purge for the earth’? But, were it not that I fear to bear more affliction by keeping faith with thee than the sufferings which follow perfidy, I had done mine endeavour to save thee.” When the wolf heard this, he bit his forehand for repentance. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Bází,” Pers. “Báz” (here Richardson is wrong s.v.); a term to a certain extent generic, but specially used for the noble Peregrine (F. Peregrinator) whose tiercel is the Sháhín (or “Royal Bird”). It is sometimes applied to the goshawk (Astur palumbarius) whose proper title, however, is Shah-báz (King-hawk). The Peregrine extends from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin and the best come from the colder parts: in Iceland I found that the splendid white bird was sometimes trapped for sending to India. In Egypt “Bazi” is applied to the kite or buzzard and “Hidyah” (a kite) to the falcon (Burckhardt’s Prov. 159, 581 and 602). Burckhardt translates “Hidáyah,” the Egyptian corruption, by “an ash-grey falcon of the smaller species common throughout Egypt and Syria.”
2 Arab. “Hijl,” the bird is not much prized in India because it feeds on the roads. For the Shinnár (caccabis) or magnificent partridge of Midian as large as a pheasant, see “Midian Revisted” ii. 18.
3 Arab. “Súf;” hence “Súfi,”=(etymologically) one who wears woollen garments, a devotee, a Santon; from =wise; from =pure, or from Safá=he was pure. This is not the place to enter upon such a subject as “Tasawwuf,” or Sufyism; that singular reaction from arid Moslem realism and materialism, that immense development of gnostic and Neo-platonic transcendentalism which is found only germinating in the Jewish and Christian creeds. The poetry of Omar-i-Khayyám, now familiar to English readers, is a fair specimen; and the student will consult the last chapter of the Dabistan “On the religion of the Sufiahs.” The first Moslem Sufi was Abu Háshim of Kufah, ob. A. H. 150=767, and the first Convent of Sufis called “Takiyah” (Pilgrimage i. 124) was founded in Egypt by Saladin the Great.
4 i.e. when she encamps with a favourite for the night.
5 The Persian proverb is “Marg-i-amboh jashni dáred”— death in a crowd is as good as a feast.
6 Arab. “Kanát”, the subterranean water-course called in Persia “Kyáriz.” Lane (ii. 66) translates it “brandish around the spear (Kanát is also a cane-lance) of artifice,” thus making rank nonsense of the line. Al–Hariri uses the term in the Ass. of the Banu Haram where “Kanát” may be a pipe or bamboo laid underground.
7 From Al–Tughrái, the author of the Lámiyat al-Ajam, the “Lay of the Outlander;” a Kasidah (Ode) rhyming in Lám (the letter “l” being the ráwi or binder). The student will find a new translation of it by Mr. J. W. Redhouse and Dr. Carlyle’s old version (No. liii.) in Mr. Clouston’s “Arabian Poetry.” Muyid al-Din al-Hasan Abu Ismail nat. Ispahan ob. Baghdad A.H. 182) derived his surname from the Tughrá, cypher or flourish (over the “Bismillah” in royal and official papers) containing the name of the prince. There is an older “Lamiyat al-Arab” a pre-Islamitic L-poem by the “brigand-poet” Shanfara, of whom Mr. W. G. Palgrave has given a most appreciative account in his “Essays on Eastern Questions,” noting the indomitable self-reliance and the absolute individualism of a mind defying its age and all around it. Al–Hariri quotes from both.
8 The words of the unfortunate Azízah, vol. ii., p. 323.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the wolf heard the fox’s words he bit his forehand for repentance. Then he gave the fox fair words, but this availed naught and he was at his wits’ end for what to do; so he said to him in soft, low accents, “Verily, you tribe of foxes are the most pleasant people in point of tongue and the subtlest in jest, and this is but a joke of thine; but all times are not good for funning and jesting.” The fox replied, “O ignoramus, in good sooth jesting hath a limit which the jester must not overpass; and deem not that Allah will again give thee possession of me after having once delivered me from thy hand.” Quoth the wolf, “It behoveth thee to compass my release, by reason of our brotherhood and good fellowship; and, if thou release me, I will assuredly make fair thy recompense.” Quoth the fox, “Wise men say, ‘Take not to brother the wicked fool, for he will disgrace thee in lieu of gracing thee; nor take to brother the liar for, if thou do good, he will conceal it; and if thou do ill he will reveal it.’ And again, the sages have said, ‘There is help for everything but death: all may be warded off, except Fate.’ As for the reward thou declarest to be my due from thee, I compare thee herein with the serpent which fled from the charmer.1 A man saw her affrighted and said to her, ‘What aileth thee, O thou serpent?’ Replied she, ‘I am fleeing from the snake-charmer, for he seeketh to trap me and, if thou wilt save me and hide me with thee, I will make fair thy reward and do thee all manner of kindness.’ So he took her, incited thereto by lust for the recompense and eager to find favour with Heaven, and set her in his breastpocket. Now when the charmer had passed and had wended his way and the serpent had no longer any cause to fear, he said to her, ‘Where is the reward thou didst promise me? Behold, I have saved thee from that thou fearedest and soughtest to fly.’ Replied she, ‘Tell me in what limb or in what place shall I strike thee with my fangs, for thou knowest we exceed not that recompense.’ So saying, she gave him a bite whereof he died. And I liken thee, O dullard, to the serpent in her dealings with that man. Hast thou not heard what the poet saith?
‘Trust not to man when thou hast raised his spleen
And wrath, nor that ’twill cool do thou misween:
Smooth feels the viper to the touch and glides
With grace, yet hides she deadliest venene.’”
Quoth the wolf, “O thou glib of gab and fair of face, ignore not my case and men’s fear of me; and well thou weetest how I assault the strongly walled place and uproot the vines from base. Wherefore, do as I bid thee, and stand before me even as the thrall standeth before his lord.” Quoth the fox, “O stupid dullard who seekest a vain thing, I marvel at thy folly and thy front of brass in that thou biddest me serve thee and stand up before thee as I were a slave bought with thy silver; but soon shalt thou see what is in store for thee, in the way of cracking thy sconce with stones and knocking out thy traitorous dog-teeth.” So saying the fox clomb a hill overlooking the vineyard and standing there, shouted out to the vintagers; nor did he give over shouting till he woke them and they, seeing him, all came up to him in haste. He stood his ground till they drew near him and close to the pit wherein was the wolf; and then he turned and fled. So the folk looked into the cleft and, spying the wolf, set to pelting him with heavy stones, and they stinted not smiting him with stones and sticks, and stabbing him with spears, till they killed him and went away. Thereupon the fox returned to that cleft and, standing over the spot where his foe had been slain, saw the wolf dead: so he wagged his head for very joyance and began to recite these couplets,
“Fate the Wolf’s soul snatched up from wordly stead;
Far be from bliss his soul that perished!
Abu Sirhan!2 how sore thou sought’st my death;
Thou, burnt this day in fire of sorrow dread:
Thou’rt fallen into pit, where all who fall
Are blown by Death-blast down among the dead.”
Thenceforward the aforesaid fox abode alone in the vineyard unto the hour of his death secure and fearing no hurt. And such are the adventures of the wolf and the fox. But men also tell a
1 Arab. “Háwí”=a juggler who plays tricks with snakes: he is mostly a Gypsy. The “recompense” the man expects is the golden treasure which the ensorcelled snake is supposed to guard. This idea is as old as the Dragon in the Garden of the Hesperides — and older.
2 The “Father of going out (to prey) by morning”; for dawn is called Zanab Sirhán the Persian Dum-i-gurg=wolf’s tail, i.e. the first brush of light; the Zodiacal Light shown in morning. Sirhán is a nickname of the wolf — Gaunt Grim or Gaffer Grim, the German Isengrin or Eisengrinus (icy grim or iron grim) whose wife is Hersent, as Richent or Hermeline is Mrs. Fox. In French we have lopez, luppe, leu, e.g.
Venant à la queue, leu, leu,
i.e. going in Indian file. Hence the names D’Urfé and Saint–Loup. In Scandinavian, the elder sister of German, Ulf and in German (where the Jews were forced to adopt the name) Wolff whence “Guelph.” He is also known to the Arabs as the “sire of a she-lamb,” the figure metonymy called “Kunyat bi ‘l-Zidd” (lucus a non lucendo), a patronymic or by-name given for opposition and another specimen of “inverted speech.”
A mouse and an ichneumon once dwelt in the house of a peasant who was very poor; and when one of his friends sickened, the doctor prescribed him husked sesame. So the hind sought of one of his comrades sesame to be husked by way of healing the sick man; and, when a measure thereof was given to him, he carried it home to his wife and bade her dress it. So she steeped it and husked it and spread it out to dry. Now when the ichneumon saw the grain, she went up to it and fell to carrying it away to her hole, and she toiled all day, till she had borne off the most of it. Presently, in came the peasant’s wife and, seeing much of the grain gone, stood awhile wondering; after which she sat down to watch and find out who might be the intruder and make him account for her loss. After a while, out crept the ichneumon to carry off the grain as was her wont, but spying the woman seated there, knew that she was on the watch for her and said in her mind, “Verily, this affair is like to end blameably; and sore I fear me this woman is on the look-out for me, and Fortune is no friend to who attend not to issue and end: so there is no help for it but that I do a fair deed, whereby I may manifest my innocence and wash out all the ill-doings I have done.” So saying, she began to take the sesame out of her hole and carry it forth and lay it back upon the rest. The woman stood by and, seeing the ichneumon do thus, said to herself, “Verily this is not the cause of our loss, for she bringeth it back from the hole of him who stole it and returneth it to its place; and of a truth she hath done us a kindness in restoring us the sesame, and the reward of those who do us good is that we do them the like good. It is clear that it is not she who stole the grain; but I will not cease my watching till he fall into my hands and I find out who is the thief.” The ichneumon guess what was in her mind, so she went to the mouse and said to her, “O my sister, there is no good in one who observeth not the claims of neighborship and who showeth no constancy in friendship.” The mouse replied, “Even so, O my friend, and I delight in thee and in they neighborhood; but what be the motive of this speech?” Quoth the ichneumon, “The house-master hath brought home sesame and hath eaten his fill of it, he and his family, and hath left much; every living being hath eaten of it and, if thou take of it in they turn, thou art worthier thereof than any other.” This pleased the mouse and she squeaked for joy and danced and frisked her ears and tail, and greed for the grain deluded her; so she rose at once and issuing forth of her home, saw the sesame husked and dry, shining with whiteness, and the woman sitting at watch and ward. The mouse, taking no thought to the issue of the affair (for the woman had armed herself with a cudgel), and unable to contain herself, ran up to the sesame and began turning it over and eating of it; whereupon the woman smote her with that club and cleft her head: so the cause of her destruction were her greed and heedlessness of consequences. Then said the Sultan, “O Shahrazad, by Allah! this be a goodly parable! Say me, hast thou any story bearing on the beauty of true friendship and the observance of its duty in time of distress and rescuing from destruction?” Answered she:— Yes, it hath reached me that they tell a tale of
1 Arab. “Bint’ Arús” = daughter of the bridegroom, the Hindustani Mungus (vulg. Mongoose); a well-known weasel-like rodent often kept tame in the house to clear it of vermin. It is supposed to know an antidote against snake-poison, as the weasel eats rue before battle (Pliny x. 84; xx. 13). In Modern Egypt this viverra is called “Kitt (or Katt) Far’aun” = Pharaoh’s cat: so the Percnopter becomes Pharaoh’s hen and the unfortunate (?) King has named a host of things, alive and dead. It was worshipped and mummified in parts of Ancient Egypt e.g. Heracleopolis, on account of its antipathy to serpents and because it was supposed to destroy the crocodile, a feat with Ælian and others have overloaded with fable. It has also a distinct antipathy to cats. The ichneumon as a pet becomes too tame and will not leave its master: when enraged it emits an offensive stench. I brought home for the Zoological Gardens a Central African specimen prettily barred. Burckhardt (Prov. 455) quotes a line:—
Rakas’ Ibn Irsin wa zamzama ‘l-Nimsu,
(Danceth Ibn Irs whileas Nims doth sing)
and explains Nims by ichneumon and Ibn Irs as a “species of small weasel or ferret, very common in Egypt: it comes into the house, feeds upon meat, is of gentle disposition although not domesticated and full of gambols and frolic.”
Once upon a time, a crow and a cat lived in brotherhood; and one day as they were together under a tree, behold, they spied a leopard making towards them, and they were not aware of his approach till he was close upon them. The crow at once flew up to the tree-top; but the cat abode confounded and said to the crow, “O my friend, hast thou no device to save me, even as all my hope is in thee?” Replied the crow, “Of very truth it behoveth brethren, in case of need, to cast about for a device when peril overtaketh them, and how well saith the poet,
‘A friend in need is he who, ever true,
For they well-doing would himself undo:
One who when Fortune gars us parting rue
Victimeth self reunion to renew.’”
Now hard by that tree were shepherds with their dogs; so the crow flew towards them and smote the face of the earth with his wings, cawing and crying out. Furthermore he went up to one of the dogs and flapped his wings in his face and flew up a little way, whilst the dog ran after him thinking to catch him. Presently, one of the shepherds raised his head and saw the bird flying near the ground and lighting alternately; so he followed him, and the crow ceased not flying just high enough to save himself and to throw out the dogs; and yet tempting them to follow for the purpose of tearing him to pieces. But as soon as they came near him, he would fly up a little; and so at last he brought them to the tree, under which was the leopard. And when the dogs saw him they rushed upon him and he turned and fled. Now the leopard thought to eat the cat who was saved by the craft of his friend the crow. This story, O King, showeth that the friendship of the Brothers of Purity2 delivereth and saveth from difficulties and from falling into mortal dangers. And they also tell a tale of
1 Arab. “Sinnaur” (also meaning a prince). The common name is Kitt which is pronounced Katt or Gatt; and which Ibn Dorayd pronounces a foreign word (Syriac?). Hence, despite Freitag, Catus (which Isidore derives from catare, to look for) = gatto, chat, cat, an animal unknown to the Classics of Europe who used the mustela or putorius vulgaris and different species of viverræ. The Egyptians, who kept the cat to destroy vermin, especially snakes, called it Mau, Mai, Miao (onomatopoetic): this descendent of the Felis maniculata originated in Nubia; and we know from the mummy pits and Herodotus that it was the same species as ours. The first portraits of the cat are on the monuments of “Beni Hasan,” B.C. 2500. I have ventured to derive the familiar “Puss” from the Arab. “Biss (fem.:Bissah”), which is a congener of Pasht (Diana), the cat-faced goddess of Bubastis (Pi–Pasht), now Zagázig. Lastly, “tabby (brindled)-cat” is derived from the Attábi (Prince Attab’s) quarter at Baghdad where watered silks were made. It is usually attributed to the Tibbie, Tibalt, Tybalt, Thibert or Tybert (who is also executioner), various forms of Theobald in the old Beast Epic; as opposed to Gilbert the gib-cat, either a tom-cat or a gibbed (castrated) cat.
2 Arab. “Ikhwán al-Safá,” a popular term for virtuous friends who perfectly love each other in all purity: it has also a mystic meaning. Some translate it “Brethren of Sincerity,” and hold this brotherhood to be Moslem Freemasons, a mere fancy (see the Mesnevi of Mr. Redhouse, Trubner 1881). There is a well-known Hindustani book of this name printed by Prof. Forbes in Persian character and translated by Platts and Eastwick.
A Fox once dwelt in a cave of a certain mountain and, as often as a cub was born to him and grew stout, he would eat the young one, for he had died of hunger, had he instead of so doing left the cub alive and bred it by his side and preserved and cherished his issue. Yet was this very grievous to him. Now on the crest of the same mountain a crow had made his nest, and the fox said to himself, “I have a mind to set up a friendship with this crow and make a comrade of him, that he may help me to my daily bread; for he can do in such matters what I cannot.” So he drew near the crow’s home and, when he came within sound of speech, he saluted him and said, “O my neighbour, verily a true-believer hath two claims upon his true-believing neighbour, the right of neighbourliness and the right of Al–Islam, our common faith; and know, O my friend, that thou art my neighbour and thou hast a claim upon me which it behoveth me to observe, the more that I have long been thy neighbour. Also, there be implanted in my breast a store of love to thee, which biddeth me speak thee fair and obligeth me to solicit thy brothership. What sayest thou in reply?” Answered the crow, “Verily, the truest speech is the best speech; and haply thou speakest with thy tongue that which is not in thy heart; so I fear lest thy brotherhood be only of the tongue, outward, and thy enmity be in the heart, inward; for that thou art the Eater and I the Eaten, and faring apart were apter to us than friendship and fellowship. What, then, maketh thee seek that which thou mayst not gain and desire what may not be done, seeing that I be of the bird-kind and thou be of the beast-kind? Verily, this thy proffered brotherhood1 may not be made, neither were it seemly to make it.” Rejoined the fox, “Of a truth whoso knoweth the abiding-place of excellent things, maketh better choice in what he chooseth therefrom, so perchance he may advantage his brethren; and indeed I should love to wone near thee and I have sued for thine intimacy, to the end that we may help each other to our several objects; and success shall surely wait upon our amity. I have a many tales of the goodliness of true friendship, which I will relate to thee if thou wish the relating.” Answered the crow, “Thou hast my leave to let me hear thy communication; so tell thy tale, and relate it to me that I may hearken to it and weigh it and judge of thine intent thereby.” Rejoined the fox, “Hear then, O my friend, that which is told of a flea and a mouse and which beareth out what I have said to thee.” Asked the crow, “How so?” and the fox answered:— They tell this tale of
1 Among Eastern men there are especial forms for “making brotherhood.” The “Munhbolá-bhái” (mouth-named brother) of India is well-known. The intense “associativeness” of these races renders isolation terrible to them, and being defenceless in a wild state of society has special horrors. Hence the origin of Caste for which see Pilgrimage (i. 52). Moslems, however, cannot practise the African rite of drinking a few drops of each other’s blood. This, by the by, was also affected in Europe, as we see in the Gesta Romanoru, Tale lxvii., of the wise and foolish knights who “drew blood (to drink) from the right arm.”
Once upon a time a mouse dwelt in the house of a merchant who owned much merchandise and great stories of monies. One night, a flea took shelter in the merchant’s carpet-bed and, finding his body soft, and being thirsty drank of his blood. The merchant was awakened by the smart of the bite and sitting up called to his slave-girls and serving men. So they hastened to him and, tucking up their sleeves, fell to searching for the flea; but as soon as the bloodsucker was aware of the search, he turned to flee and coming on the mouse’s home, entered it. When the mouse saw him, she said to him, “What bringeth thee in to me, thou who art not of my nature nor of my kind, and who canst not be assured of safety from violence or of not being expelled with roughness and ill usage?” Answered the flea, “Of a truth, I took refuge in thy dwelling to save me from slaughter; and I have come to thee seeking thy protection and on nowise coveting thy house; nor shall any mischief betide thee from me to make thee leave thy home. Nay I hope right soon to repay thy favours to me with all good and then shalt thou see and praise the issue of my words.” And when the mouse heard the speech of the flea, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the mouse heard the words of the flea, she said, “If the case be as thou dost relate and describe, then be at thine ease here; for naught shall befal thee save the rain of peace and safety; nor shall aught betide thee but what shall joy thee and shall not annoy thee, nor shall it annoy me. I will lavish on thee my affections without stint; and do not thou regret having lost the merchant’s blood nor lament for thy subsistence from him, but be content with what sustenance thou canst obtain; for indeed that is the safer for thee. And I have heard, O flea, that one of the gnomic poets saith as follows in these couplets,
‘I have fared content in my solitude
With wate’er befel, and led life of ease,
On a water-draught and a bite of bread,
Coarse salt and a gown of tattered frieze:
Allah might, an He pleased, give me easiest life,
But with whatso pleaseth Him self I please.’”
Now when the flea heard these words of the mouse, he rejoined, “I hearken to thy charge and I submit myself to obey thee, nor have I power to gainsay thee, till life be fulfilled in this righteous intention.” Replied the mouse, “Pure intention sufficeth to sincere affection.” So the tie of love arose and was knitted between them twain, and after this, the flea used to visit the merchant’s bed by night and not exceed in his diet, and house him by day in the hole of the mouse. Now it came to pass one night, the merchant brought home great store of dinars and began to turn them over. When the mouse heard the chink of the coin, she put her head out of her hole and fell to gazing at it, till the merchant laid it under his pillow and went to sleep, when she said to the flea, “Seest thou not the proffered occasion and the great good fortune? Hast thou any device to bring us to our desire of yonder dinars? Quoth the flea, “Verily, it is not good that one strives for aught, unless he be able to win his will; because, if he lack ability thereto, he falleth into that which he should avoid and he attaineth not his wish by reason of his weakness, albeit he use all power of cunning, like the sparrow which picketh up grain and falleth into the net and is caught by the fowler. Thou hast no strength to take the dinars and to transport them out of this house, nor have I force sufficient to do this; on the contrary, I could not carry a single ducat of them; so what hast thou to do with them?” Quoth the mouse, “I have made me for my house these seventy openings, whence I may go out at my desire, and I have set apart a place strong and safe, for things of price; and if thou can contrive to get the merchant out of the house, I doubt not of success, an so be that Fate aid me.” Answered the flea, “I will engage to get him out of the house for thee;” and, going to the merchant’s bed, bit him a fearful bite, such as he had never before felt, then fled to a place of safety, where he had no fear of the man. So the merchant awoke and sought for the flea, but finding him not, lay down again on his other side. Then the flea bit him a second time more painfully than before. So he lost patience and, leaving his bed, went out and lay down on the bench before his door and slept there and woke not till the morning. Meanwhile the mouse came out and fell to carrying the dinars into her hole, till she left not a single one; and when day dawned the merchant began to suspect the folk and fancy all manner of fancies. And (continued the fox) know thou, O wise and experienced crow with the clear-seeing eyes, that I tell thee this only to the intent that thou mayst reap the recompense of thy kindness to me, even as the mouse reaped the reward of her kindness to the flea; for see how he repaid her and requited her with the goodliest of requitals. Said the crow, “It lies with the benefactor to show benevolence or not to show it; nor is it incumbent on us to entreat kindly one who seeketh a connection that entaileth separation from kith and kin. If I show thee favour who art my foe by kind, I am the cause of cutting myself off from the world; and thou, O fox, art full of wiles and guiles. Now those whose characteristics are craft and cunning, must not be trusted upon oath; and whoso is not to be trusted upon oath, in him there is no good faith. The tidings lately reached me of thy treacherous dealing with one of thy comrades, which was a wolf; and how thou didst deceive him until thou leddest him into destruction by thy perfidy and stratagems; and this thou diddest after he was of thine own kind and thou hadst long consorted with him: yet didst thou not spare him; and if thou couldst deal thus with thy fellow which was of thine own kind, how can I have trust in they truth and what would be thy dealing with thy foe of other kind than thy kind? Nor can I compare thee and me but with the saker and the birds.” “How so?” asked the fox. Answered the crow, they relate this tale of
There was once a saker who was a cruel tyrant”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The F. Sacer in India is called “Laghar” and tiercel “Jaghar.” Mr. T.E. Jordan (catalogue of Indian Birds, 1839) says it is rare; but I found it the contrary. According to Mr. R. Thompson it is flown at kites and antelope: in Sind it is used upon night-heron (nyctardea nycticorax), floriken or Hobara (Otis aurita), quail, partridge, curlew and sometimes hare: it gives excellent sport with crows but requires to be defended. Indian sportsmen, like ourselves, divide hawks into two orders: the “Siyáh-chasm,” or black-eyed birds, long-winged and noble; the “Gulábi-chasm” or yellow-eyed (like the goshawk) round-winged and ignoble.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the crow pursued, “They relate that there was once a saker who was a cruel tyrant in the days of his youth, so that the raveners of the air and the scavengers of the earth feared him, none being safe from his mischief; and many were the haps and mishaps of his tyranny and his violence, for this saker was ever in the habit of oppressing and injuring all the other birds. As the years passed over him, he grew feeble and his force failed him, so that he was often famished; but his cunning waxed stronger with the waning of his strength and redoubled in his endeavour and determined to be present at the general assembly of the birds, that he might eat of their orts and leavings; so in this manner he fed by fraud instead of feeding by fierceness and force. And out, O fox, art like this: if thy might fail thee, thy sleight faileth thee not; and I doubt not that thy seeking my society is a fraud to get thy food; but I am none of those who fall to thee and put fist into thy fist;1 for that Allah hath vouchsafed force to my wings and caution to my mind and sharp sight to my eyes; and I know that whoso apeth a stronger than he, wearieth himself and haply cometh to ruin. Wherefore I fear for thee lest, if thou ape a stronger than thyself, there befal thee what befel the sparrow.” Asked the fox, “What befel the sparrow?” Allah upon thee, tell me his tale.” And the crow began to relate the story of
1 i.e. put themselves at thy mercy.
I have heard that a sparrow was once flitting over a sheep-fold, when he looked at it carefully and behold, he saw a great eagle swoop down upon a newly weaned lamb and carry it off in his claws and fly away. Thereupon the sparrow clapped his wings and said, “I will do even as this one did;” and he waxed proud in his own conceit and mimicked a greater than he. So he flew down forthright and lighted on the back of a fat ram with a thick fleece that was become matted by his lying in his dung and stale till it was like woollen felt. As soon as the sparrow pounced upon the sheep’s back he flapped his wings to fly away, but his feet became tangled in the wool and, however hard he tried, he could not set himself free. While all this was doing the shepherd was looking on, having seen what happened first with the eagle and afterwards with the sparrow; so he came up to the wee birdie in a rage and seized him. Then he plucked out his wing-feathers and, tying his feet with a twine, carried him to his children and threw him to them. “What is this?” asked one of them; and he answered, “This is he that aped a greater than himself and came to grief.” “Now thou, O fox, art like this and I would have thee beware of aping a greater than thou, lest thou perish. This is all I have to say to thee; so fare from me in peace!” When the fox despaired of the crow’s friendship, he turned away, groaning for sorrow and gnashing teeth upon teeth in his disappointment; and the crow, hearing the sound of weeping and seeing his grief and profound melancholy, said to him, “O fox, what dole and dolour make thee gnash thy canines?” Answered the fox, “I gnash my canines because I find thee a greater rascal than myself;” and so saying he made off to his house and ceased not to fare until he reached his home. Quoth the Sultan, “O Shahrazad, how excellent are these thy stories, and how delightsome! Hast thou more of such edifying tales?” Answered she:— They tell this legend concerning
A hedgehog once too up his abode by the side of a date-palm, whereon roosted a wood-pigeon and his wife that had built their next there and lived a life of ease and enjoyment. So he said to himself, “This pigeon-pair eateth of the fruit of the date tree and I have no means of getting at it; but needs must I find some fashion of tricking them. Upon this he dug a hole at the foot of the palm tree and took up his lodgings there, he and his wife; moreover, he built an oratory beside the hole and went into retreat there and made a show of devotion and edification and renunciation of the world. The male pigeon saw him praying and worshipping, and his heart was softened towards him for his excess of devoutness; so he said to him, “How many years hast thou been thus?” Replied the hedgehog, “During the last thirty years.” “What is thy food?” “That which falleth from the palm-tree.” “And what is thy clothing?” “Prickles! and I profit by their roughness.” “And why hast thou chosen this for place rather than another?” “I chose it and preferred it to all others that I might guide the erring into the right way and teach the ignorant!” “I had fancied thy case,” quoth the wood-pigeon, “other than this, but now I yearn for that which is with thee.” Quoth the hedgehog, “I fear lest thy deed contradict thy word and thou be even as the husbandman who, when the seed-season came, neglected to sow, saying, ‘Verily I dread lest the days bring me not to my desire and by making hast to sow I shall only waste my substance!’ When harvest-time came and he saw the folk earing their crops, he repented him of what he had lost by his tardiness and he died of chagrin and vexation.” Asked the wood-pigeon, “What then shall I do that I may be freed from the bonds of the world and cut myself loose from all things save the service of my Lord?” Answered the hedgehog, “Betake thee to preparing for the next world and content thyself with a pittance of provision.” Quoth the pigeon, “How can I do this, I that am a bird and unable to go beyond the date-tree whereon is my daily bread? And even could I do so, I know of no other place wherein I may wone.” Quoth the hedgehog, “Thou canst shake down of the fruit of the date-tree what shall suffice thee and thy wife for a year’s provaunt; then do ye take up your abode in a nest under the trunk, that ye may prayerfully seek to be guided in the right way, and then turn thou to what thou hast shaken down and transport it all to thy home and store it up against what time the dates fail; and when the fruits are spent and the delay is longsome upon you, address thyself to total abstinence.” Exclaimed the pigeon, “Allah requite thee with good for the righteous intention wherewith thou hast reminded me of the world to come and hast directed me into the right way!” Then he and his wife worked hard at knocking down the dates, till nothing was left on the palm-tree, whilst the hedgehog, finding whereof to eat, rejoiced and filled his den with the fruit, storing it up for his subsistence and saying in his mind, “When the pigeon and his wife have need of their provision, they will seek it of me and covet what I have, relying upon thy devoutness and abstinence; and, from what they have heard of my counsels and admonitions, they will draw near unto me. Then will I make them my prey and eat them, after which I shall have the place and all that drops from the date-tree to suffice me.” presently, having shaken down the fruits, the pigeon and his wife descended from the tree-top and finding that the hedgehog had removed all the dates to his own place, said to him, “O hedgehog! thou pious preacher and of good counsel, we can find no sign of the dates and know not on what else we shall feed.” Replied the hedgehog, “Probably the winds have carried them away; but the turning from the provisions to the Provider is of the essence of salvation, and He who the mouth-corners cleft, the mouth without victual hath never left.” And he gave not over improving the occasion to them on this wise, and making a show of piety and cozening them with fine words and false until they put faith in him and accepted him and entered his den and had no suspicion of his deceit. Thereupon he sprang to the door and gnashed his teeth, and the wood-pigeon, seeing his perfidy manifested, said to him, “What hath to-night to do with yester-night? Knowest thou not that there is a Helper for the oppressed? Beware of craft and treachery, lest that mishap befal thee which befel the sharpers who plotted against the merchant.” “What was that?” asked the hedgehog. Answered the pigeon:— I have heard tell this tale of
In a city called Sindah there was once a very wealthy merchant, who made ready his camel-loads and equipped himself with goods and set out with his outfit for such a city, purposing to sell it there. Now he was followed by two sharpers, who had made up into bales what merchandise they could get; and, giving out to the merchant that they also were merchants, wended with him by the way. So halting at the first halting-place they agreed to play him false and take all he had; but at the same time, each inwardly plotted foul play to the other, saying in his mind, “If I can cheat my comrade, times will go well with me and I shall have all these goods for myself.” So after planning this perfidy, one of them took food and putting therein poison, brought it to his fellow; the other did the same and they both ate of the poisoned mess and they both died. Now they had been sitting with the merchant; so when they left him and were long absent from him, he sought for tidings of them and found the twain lying dead; whereby he knew that they were sharpers who had plotted to play him foul, but their foul play had recoiled upon themselves. So the merchant was preserved and took what they had. Then quoth the Sultan, “O Shahrazad, verily thou hast aroused me to all whereof I was negligent! So continue to edify me with these fables.” Quoth she:— It hath reached me, O King, that men tell this tale of
A certain man had a monkey and that man was a thief, who never entered any of the street-markets of the city wherein he dwelt, but he made off with great profit. Now it came to pass one day that he saw a man offering for sale worn clothes, and he went calling them in the market, but none bid for them and all to whom he showed them refused to buy of him. Presently the thief who had the monkey saw the man with the ragged clothes set them in a wrapper and sit down to rest for weariness; so he made the ape sport before him to catch his eye and, whilst he was busy gazing at it, stole the parcel from him. Then he took the ape and made off to a lonely place, where he opened the wrapper and, taking out the old clothes, folded them in a piece of costly stuff. This he carried to another bazar and exposed for sale together with what was therein, making it a condition that it should not be opened, and tempting the folk with the lowness of the price he set on it. A certain man saw the wrapper and its beauty pleased him; so he bought the parcel on these terms and carried it home, doubting not that he had done well. When his wife saw it she asked, “What is this?” and he answered, “It is costly stuff, which I have bought at lowest price, meaning to sell it again and take the profit.” Rejoined she, “O dupe, would this stuff be sold under its value, unless it had been stolen? Dost thou not know that whoso buyeth aught without examining it, falleth into error and becometh like unto the weaver?” Quoth he, “And what is the story of the weaver?”; and quoth she:— I have heard this take of
1 I have remarked (Pilgrimage iii.307) that all the popular ape-names in Arabic and Persian, Sa’adán, Maymún, Shádi, etc., express propitiousness — probably euphemistically applied to our “poor relation.”
There was once in a certain village a weaver who worked hard but could not earn his living save by overwork. Now it chanced that one of the richards of the neighbourhood made a marriage feast and invited the folk thereto: the weaver also was present and found the guests, who wore rich gear, served with delicate viands and made much of by the house-master for what he saw of their fine clothes. So he said in his mind, “If I change this my craft for another craft easier to compass and better considered and more highly paid, I shall amass great store of money and I shall buy splendid attire, so I may rise in rank and be exalted in men’s eyes and become even with these.” Presently, he beheld one of the mountebanks, who was present at the feast, climbing up to the top of a high and towering wall and throwing himself down to the ground and alighting on his feet. Whereupon the waver said to himself, “Needs must I do as this one hath done, for surely I shall not fail of it.” So he arose and swarmed upon the wall and casting himself down, broke his neck against the ground and died forthright. “Now I tell thee this that thou sayst get thy living by what way thou knowest and thoroughly understandest, lest peradventure greed enter into thee and thou lust after what is not of thy condition.” Quoth the woman’s husband, “Not every wise man is saved by his wisdom, nor is every fool lost by his folly. I have seen it happen to a skilful charmer, well versed in the ways of serpents, to be struck by the fangs of a snake1 and killed, and others prevail over serpents who had no skill in them and no knowledge of their ways.” And he went contrary to his wife and persisted in buying stolen goods below their value till he fell under suspicion and perished therefor: even as perished the sparrow in the tale of
1 The serpent does not “sting” nor does it “bite;” it strikes with the poison-teeth like a downward stab with a dagger. These fangs are always drawn by the jugglers but they grow again and thus many lives are lost. The popular way of extracting the crochets is to grasp the snake firmly behind the neck with one hand and with the other to tantalise it by offering and withdrawing a red rag. At last the animal is allowed to strike it and a sharp jerk tears out both eye-teeth as rustics used to do by slamming a door. The head is then held downwards and the venom drains from its bag in the shape of a few drops of slightly yellowish fluid which, as conjurers know, may be drunk without danger. The patient looks faint and dazed, but recovers after a few hours and feels as if nothing had happened. In India I took lessons from a snake-charmer but soon gave up the practice as too dangerous.
There was once upon a time a sparrow, that used every day to visit a certain king of the birds and ceased not to wait upon him in the mornings and not to leave him till the evenings, being the first to go in and the last to go out. One day, a company of birds chanced to assemble on a high mountain and one of them said to another, “Verily, we are waxed many, and many are the differences between us, and there is no help for it but we have a king to look into our affairs; so shall we all be at one and our differences will disappear.” Thereupon up came that sparrow and counselled them to choose for King the peacock (that is, the prince he used to visit). So they chose the peacock to their King and he, become their sovereign, bestowed largesse upon them and made the sparrow his secretary and Prime Minister. Now the sparrow was wont by times to quit his assiduous serve in the presence and look into matters in general. So one day he absented himself at the usual time, whereat the peacock was sore troubled; and, while things stood thus, he returned and the peacock said to him, “What hath delayed thee, and thou the nearest to me of all my servants and the dearest of all my dependents?” replied the sparrow, “I have seen a thing which is doubtful to me and whereat I am affrighted.” Asked the peacock, “What was it thou sawest?”; and the sparrow answered, “I saw a man set up a net, hard by my nest, peg down its pegs, strew grain in its midst and withdraw afar off. And I sat watching what he would do when behold, fate and fortune drave thither a crane and his wife, which fell into the midst of the net and began to cry out; whereupon the fowler rose up and took them. This troubled me, and such is the reason for my absence from thee, O King of the Age, but never again will I abide in that nest for fear of the net.” Rejoined the peacock, “Depart not thy dwelling, for against fate and lot forethought will avail the naught.” And the sparrow obeyed his bidding and said, “I will forthwith arm myself with patience and forbear to depart in obedience to the King.” So he ceased not taking care of himself, and carrying food to his sovereign, who would eat what sufficed him and after feeding drink his water and dismiss the sparrow. Now one day as he was looking into matters, lo and behold! he saw two sparrows fighting on the ground and said in his mind, “How can I, who am the King’s Wazir, look on and see sparrows fighting in my neighbourhood? By Allah, I must make peace between them!” So he flew down to reconcile them; but the fowler cast the net over the whole number and the sparrow happened to be in their very midst. Then the fowler arose and took him and gave him to his comrade, saying, “Take care of him, “ I never saw fatter or finer.” But the sparrow said to himself, “I have fallen into that which I feared and none but the peacock inspired me with false confidence. It availed me naught to beware of the stroke of fate and fortune, since even he who taketh precaution may never flee from destiny. And how well said the poet in this poetry,
“Whatso is not to be shall ne’er become;
No wise! and that to be must come to pass;
Yea it shall come to pass at time ordained,
And th’ Ignoramus1 aye shall cry ‘Alas!’”
Whereupon quoth the King, “O Shahrazad, recount me other of these tales!”; and quoth she, “I will do so during the coming night, if life be granted to by the King whom Allah bring to honour!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Akh al-Jahálah” = brother of ignorance, an Ignorantin; one “really and truly” ignorant; which is the value of “Ahk” in such phrases as a “brother of poverty,” or, “of purity.”
She said:— I will relate the
It hath reached me, O august King, that in days of yore and in times and ages long gone before, during the Caliphate of Harun al-Rashid, there was a merchant who named his son Abú al-Hasan1 Ali bin Táhir; and the same was great of goods and grace, while his son was fair of form and face and held in favour by all folk. He used to enter the royal palace without asking leave, for all the Caliph’s concubines and slave-girls loved him, and he was wont to be companion with Al–Rashid in his cups and recite verses to him and tell him curious tales and witty. Withal he sold and bought in the merchants’ bazar, and there used to sit in his shop a youth named Ali bin Bakkár, of the sons of the Persian Kings2 who was formous of form and symmetrical of shape and perfect of figure, with cheeks red as roses and joined eyebrows; sweet of speech, laughing-lipped and delighting in mirth and gaiety. Now it chanced one day, as the two sat talking and laughing behold, there came up ten damsels like moons, every one of them complete in beauty and loveliness, and elegance and grace; and amongst them was a young lady riding on a she-mule with a saddle of brocade and stirrups of gold. She wore an outer veil of fine stuff, and her waist was girt with a girdle of gold-embroidered silk; and she was even as saith the poet,
“Silky her skin and silk that zoned waist;
Sweet voice; words not o’er many nor too few:
Two eyes quoth Allah ‘Be,’ and they became;
And work like wine on hearts they make to rue:
O love I feel! grow greater every night:
O solace! Doom-day bring our interview.”
And when the cortège reached Abu al-Hasan’s shop, she alighted from her mule, and sitting down on the front board,3 saluted him, and he returned her salam. When Ali bin Bakkar saw her, she ravished his understanding and he rose to go away; but she said to him, “Sit in thy place. We came to thee and thou goest away: this is not fair!” Replied he, “O my lady, by Allah, I flee from what I see; for the tongue of the case saith,
‘She is a sun which towereth high a-sky;
So ease thy heart with cure by Patience lent:
Thou to her skyey height shalt fail to fly;
Nor she from skyey height can make descent.’”
When she heard this, she smiled and asked Abu al-Hasan, “What is the name of this young man?”; who answered, “He is a stranger;” and she enquired, “What countryman is he?”; whereto the merchant replied, “He is a descendant of the Persian Kings; his name is Ali son of Bakkar and the stranger deserveth honour.” Rejoined she, “When my damsel comes to thee, come thou at once to us and bring him with thee, that we may entertain him in our abode, lest he blame us and say, ‘There is no hospitality in the people of Baghdad’; for niggardliness is the worst fault a man can have. Thou hearest what I say to thee and, if thou disobey me, thou wilt incur my displeasure and I will never again visit thee or salute thee.” Quoth Abu al-Hasan, “On my head and my eyes: Allah preserve me from thy displeasure, fair lady!” Then she rose and went her way. Such was her case; but as regards Ali bin Bakkar he remained in a state of bewilderment. Now after an hour the damsel came to Abu al-Hasan and said to him, “Of a truth my lady Shams al-Nahár, the favourite of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, biddeth thee to her, thee and thy friend, my lord Ali bin Bakkar.” So he rose and, taking Ali with him, followed the girl to the Caliph’s palace, where she carried them into a chamber and made them sit down. They talked together awhile, when behold, trays of food were set before them, and they ate and washed their hands. Then she brought them wine, and they drank deep and made merry; after which she bade them rise and carried them into another chamber, vaulted upon four columns, furnished after the goodliest fashion with various kinds of furniture, and adorned with decorations as it were one of the pavilions of Paradise. They were amazed at the rarities they saw; and, as they were enjoying a review of these marvels, suddenly up came ten slave-girls, like moons, swaying and swimming in beauty’s pride, dazzling the sight and confounding the sprite; and they ranged themselves in two ranks as if they were of the black-eyed Brides of Paradise. And after a while in came other ten damsels, bearing in their hands lutes and divers instruments of mirth and music; and these, having saluted the two guests, sat down and fell to tuning their lute-strings. Then they rose and standing before them, played and sang and recited verses: and indeed each one of them was a seduction to the servants of the Lord. Whilst they were thus busied there entered other ten damsels like unto them, high-bosomed maids and of an equal age, with black-eyes and cheeks like the rose, joined eyebrows and looks languorous; a very fascination to every faithful wight and to all who looked upon them a delight; clad in various kinds of coloured silks, with ornaments that amazed man’s intelligence. They took up their station at the door, and there succeeded them yet other ten damsels even fairer than they, clad in gorgeous array, such as no tongue can say; and they also stationed themselves by the doorway. Then in came a band of twenty damsels and amongst them the lady, Shams al-Nahar hight, as she were the moon among the stars swaying from side to side, with luring gait and in beauty’s pride. And she was veiled to the middle with the luxuriance of her locks, and clad in a robe of azure blue and a mantilla of silk embroidered with gold and gems of price; and her waist was girt with a zone set with various kinds of precious stones. She ceased not to advance with her graceful and coquettish swaying, till she came to the couch that stood at the upper end of the chamber and seated herself thereon. But when Ali bin Bakkar saw her, he versified with these verses,
“Source of mine evils, truly, she alone ‘s,
Of long love-longing and my groans and moans;
Near her I find my soul in melting mood,
For love of her and wasting of my bones.”
And finishing his poetry he said to Abu al-Hasan, “Hadst thou Dealt more kindly with me thou haddest forewarned me of these things ere I came hither, that I might have made up my mind and taken patience to support what hath befallen me.” And he wept and groaned and complained. Replied Abu al-Hasan, “O my brother, I meant thee naught but good; but I feared to tell thee this, lest such transport should betide thee as might hinder thee from foregathering with her, and be a stumbling-block between thee and her. But be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear;4 for she to thee inclineth and to favour thee designeth.” Asked Ali bin Bakkar, “What is this young lady’s name?” Answered Abu al-Hasan, “She is hight Shams al-Nahar, one of the favourites of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, and this is the palace of the Caliphate.” Then Shams al-Nahar sat gazing upon the charms of Ali bin Bakkar and he upon hers, till both were engrossed with love for each other. Presently she commanded the damsels, one and all, to be seated, each in her rank and place, and all sat on a couch before one of the windows, and she bade them sing; whereupon one of them took up the lute and began caroling,
“Give thou my message twice
Bring clear reply in trice!
To thee, O Prince of Beau
— ty5 with complaint I rise:
My lord, as heart-blood dear
And Life’s most precious prize!
Give me one kiss in gift
Or loan, if thou devise: And if thou crave for more
Take all that satisfies.6 Thou donn’st me sickness-dress
Thee with health’s weed I bless.”
Her singing charmed Ali bin Bakkar, and he said to her, “Sing me more of the like of these verses.” So she struck the strings and began to chaunt these lines,
“By stress of parting, O beloved one,
Thou mad’st these eyelids torment — race to run:
Oh gladness of my sight and dear desire,
Goal of my wishes, my religion!
Pity the youth whose eyne are drowned in tears
Of lover gone distraught and clean undone.”
When she had finished her verses, Shams al-Nahar said to another damsel, “Let us hear something from thee!” So she played a lively measure and began these couplets,
“His7 looks have made me drunken, not his wine;
His grace of gait disgraced sleep to these eyne:
Dazed me no cup, but cop with curly crop;
His gifts overcame me not the gifts of vine:
His winding locks my patience-clue unwound:
His robed beauties robbed all wits of mine.”
When Shams Al–Nahar heard this recital from the damsel, she sighed heavily and the song pleased her. Then she bade another damsel sing; so she took the lute and began chanting,
“Face that with Sol in Heaven lamping vies;
Youth-tide’s fair fountain which begins to rise;
Whose curly side-beard writeth writ of love,
And in each curl concealeth mysteries:
Cried Beauty, ‘When I met this youth I knew
’Tis Allah’s loom such gorgeous robe supplies.’”
When she had finished her song, Ali bin Bakkar said to the slave-maiden nearest him, “Sing us somewhat, thou O damsel.” So she took the lute and began singing,
“Our trysting-time is all too short
For this long coyish coquetry:
How long this ‘Nay, Nay!’ and ‘Wait, wait?’
This is not old nobility!
And now that Time deigns lend delight
Profit of th’ opportunity.”
When she ended, Ali bin Bakkar followed up her song with flowing tears; and, as Shams al-Nahar saw him weeping and groaning and complaining, she burned with love-longing and desire; and passion and transport consumed her. So she rose from the sofa and came to the door of the alcove, where Ali met her and they embraced with arms round the neck, and fell down fainting in the doorway; whereupon the damsels came to them and carrying them into the alcove, sprinkled rose-water upon them both. When they recovered, they found not Abu al-Hasan who had hidden himself by the side of a couch, and the young lady said, “Where is Abu al-Hasan?” So he showed himself to her from beside the couch and she saluted him, saying, “I pray Allah to give me the means of requiting thee, O kindest of men!” Then she turned to Ali bin Bakkar and said to him, “O my lord, passion hath not reached this extreme pass with thee without my feeling the like; but we have nothing to do save to bear patiently what calamity hath befallen us.” Replied he, “By Allah, O my lady, union with thee may not content me nor gazing upon thee assuage the fire thou hast lighted, nor shall leave me the love of thee which hath mastered my heart but with the leaving of my life.” So saying, he wept and the tears ran down upon his cheeks like thridded pearls; and when Shams al-Nahar saw him weep, she wept for his weeping. But Abu al-Hasan exclaimed, “By Allah, I wonder at your case and am confounded at your condition; of a truth, your affair is amazing and your chance dazing. What! this weeping while ye are yet together: then how will it be what time ye are parted and far separated?” And he continued, “Indeed, this is no tide for weeping and wailing, but a season for meeting and merry-making; rejoice, therefore, and take your pleasure and shed no more tears!” Then Shams al-Nahar signed to a slave-girl, who arose and presently returned with handmaids bearing a table, whose dishes of silver were full of various rich viands. They set the table before the pair and Shams al-Nahar began to eat8 and to place tid-bits in the mouth of Ali bin Bakkar; and they ceased not so doing till they were satisfied, when the table was removed and they washed their hands. Then the waiting-women fetched censers with all manner of incense, aloe-wood and ambergris and mixed scents; and sprinkling-flasks full of rose-water were also brought and they were fumigated and perfumed. After this the slaves set on vessels of graven gold, containing all kinds of sherbets, besides fruits fresh and dried, that heart can desire and eye delight in; and lastly one brought a flagon of carnelion full of old wine. Then Shams al-Nahar chose out ten handmaids to attend on them and ten singing women; and, dismissing the rest to their apartments, bade some of those who remained strike the lute. They did as she bade them and one of them began to sing,
“My soul to him who smiled back my salute,
In breast reviving hopes that were no mo’e:
The hand o’ Love my secret brought to light,
And censor’s tongues what lies my ribs below:9
My tear-drops ever press twixt me and him,
As though my tear-drops showing love would flow.”
When she had finished her singing, Shams al-Nahar rose and, filling a goblet, drank it off, then crowned it again and handed it to Ali bin Bakkar; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 1) writes “Abu-l-Hasan;” Payne (iii. 49) “Aboulhusn” which would mean “Father of Beauty (Husn)” and is not a Moslem name. Hasan (beautiful) and its dimin. Husayn, names now so common, were (it is said), unknown to the Arabs, although Hassán was that of a Tobba King, before the days of Mohammed who so called his two only grandsons. In Anglo–India they have become “Hobson and Jobson.” The Bresl. Edit. (ii. 305) entitles this story “Tale of Abu ‘l Hasan the Attár (druggist and perfumer) with Ali ibn Bakkár and what befel them with the handmaid (=járiyah) Shams al-Nahár.”
2 i.e. a descendant, not a Prince.
3 The Arab shop is a kind of hole in the wall and buyers sit upon its outer edge (Pilgrimage i. 99).
4 By a similar image the chamæleon is called Abú Kurrat=Father of coolness; because it is said to have the “coldest” eye of all animals and insensible to heat and light, since it always looks at the sun.
5 This dividing the hemistich words is characteristic of certain tales; so I have retained it although inevitably suggesting:—
I left Matilda at the U-
niversity of Gottingen.
6 These naïve offers in Eastern tales mostly come from the true seducer — Eve. Europe and England especially, still talks endless absurdity upon the subject. A man of the world may “seduce” an utterly innocent (which means an ignorant) girl. But to “seduce” a married woman! What a farce!
7 Masculine again for feminine: the lines are as full of word-plays, vulgarly called puns, as Sanskrit verses.
8 The Eastern heroine always has a good appetite and eats well. The sensible Oriental would infinitely despise that maladive Parisienne in whom our neighbours delight, and whom I long to send to the Hospital.
9 i.e. her rivals have discovered the secret of her heart.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shams al-Nahar filled a goblet and handed it to Ali bin Bakkar; after which she bade another damsel sing; and she began singing these couplets,
“My tears thus flowing rival with my wine,
Pouring the like of what fills cup to brink:1
By Allah wot I not an run these eyne
Wi’ wine, or else it is of tears I drink.”
And when she ended her recitation, Ali bin Bakkar drained his cup and returned it to Shams al-Nahar. She filled it again and gave it to Abu al-Hasan who tossed it off. Then she took the lute, saying, “None shall sing over my cup save myself;” so she screwed up the strings and intoned these verses,
“The tears run down his cheeks in double row,
And in his breast high flameth lover-lowe:
He weeps when near, a-fearing to be far;
And, whether far or near, his tear-drops flow.”
And the words of another,
“Our life to thee, O cup-boy Beauty-dight!
From parted hair to calves; from black to white:
Sol beameth from thy hands, and from thy lips
Pleiads, and full Moon through thy collar’s night,2
Good sooth the cups, which made our heads fly round,
Are those thine eyes pass round to daze the sight:
No wonder lovers hail thee as full moon
Waning to them, for self e’er waxing bright:
Art thou a deity to kill and quicken,
Bidding this fere, forbidding other wight?
Allah from model of thy form made Beau
— ty and the Zephyr scented with thy sprite.
Thou art not of this order of human
— ity but angel lent by Heaven to man.”
When Ali bin Bakkar and Abu al-Hasan and those present heard Shams al-Nahar’s song, they were like to fly for joy, and sported and laughed; but while they were thus enjoying themselves lo! up came a damsel, trembling for fear and said, “O my lady, the Commander of the Faithful’s eunuchs are at the door, Afíf and Masrúr and Marján3 and others whom wot I not.” When they heard this they were like to die with fright, but Shams al-Nahar laughed and said, “Have no fear!” Then quoth she to the damsel, “Keep answering them whilst we remove hence.” And she caused the doors of the alcove to be closed upon Ali and Abu al-Hasan, and let down the curtains over the entrance (they being still within); after which she shut the door of the saloon and went out by the privy wicket into the flower-garden, where she seated herself on a couch she had there and made one of the damsels knead her feet.4 Then she dismissed the rest of her women to their rooms and bade the portress admit those who were at the door; whereupon Masrur entered, he and his company of twenty with drawn swords. And when they saluted her, she asked, “Wherefore come ye?”; whereto they answered, “The Commander of the Faithful saluteth thee. Indeed he is desolated for want of thy sight; he letteth thee know that this be to him a day of joy and great gladness and he wisheth to seal his day and complete his pleasure with thy company at this very hour. So say, wilt go to him or shall he come to thee?” Upon this she rose and, kissing the earth, replied, “I hear and I obey the commandment of the Prince of True Believers!” Then she summoned the women guards of her household and other slave-damsels, who lost no time in attending upon her and made a show of obeying the Caliph’s orders. And albeit everything about the place was in readiness, she said to the eunuchs, “Go to the Commander of the Faithful and tell him that I await him after a little space, that I may make ready for him a place with carpets and other matters.” So they returned in haste to the Caliph, whilst Shams al-Nahar, doffing her outer gear, repaired to her lover, Ali bin Bakkar, and drew him to her bosom and bade him farewell, whereat he wept sore and said, “O my lady, this leave-taking will cause the ruin of my very self and the loss of my very soul; but I pray Allah grant me patience to support the passion wherewith he hath afflicted me!” Replied she, “By Allah, none shall suffer perdition save I; for thou wilt fare forth to the bazar and consort with those that shall divert thee, and thy life will be sound and thy love hidden forsure; but I shall fall into trouble and tristesse nor find any to console me, more by token that I have given the Caliph a tryst, wherein haply great peril shall betide me by reason of my love for thee and my longing for thee and my grief at being parted from thee. For with what tongue shall I sing and with what heart shall I present myself before the Caliph? and with what speech shall I company the Commander of the Faithful in his cups? and with what eyes shall I look upon a place where thou art absent? and with what taste shall I drink wine of which thou drinkest not?” Quoth Abu al-Hasan, “Be not troubled but take patience and be not remiss in entertaining the Commander of the Faithful this night, neither show him any neglect, but be of good heart.” Now at this juncture, behold, up came a damsel, who said to Shams al-Nahar, “O my lady, the Caliph’s pages are come.” So she hastily rose to her feet and said to the maid, “Take Abu al-Hasan and his friend and carry them to the upper balcony5 giving upon the garden and there leave them till darkness come on; when do thou contrive to carry them forth.” Accordingly the girl led them up to the balcony and, locking the door upon them both, went her way. As they sat looking on the garden lo! the Caliph appeared escorted by near an hundred eunuchs, with drawn swords in hand and girt about with a score of damsels, as they were moons, all clad in the richest of raiment and on each one’s head was a crown set with jewels and rubies; while each carried a lighted flambeau. The Caliph walked in their midst, they encompassing him about on all sides, and Masrur and Afíf and Wasíf6 went before him and he bore himself with a graceful gait. So Shams al-Nahar and her maidens rose to receive him and, meeting him at the garden-door, kissed ground between his hands; nor did they cease to go before him till they brought him to the couch whereon he sat down, whilst all the waiting-women who were in the garden and the eunuchs stood before him and there came fair handmaids and concubines holding in hand lighted candles and perfumes and incense and instruments of mirth and music. Then the Sovereign bade the singers sit down, each in her place, and Shams al-Nahar came up and, seating herself on a stool by the side of the Caliph’s couch, began to converse with him; all this happening whilst Abu al-Hasan and Ali bin Bakkar looked on and listened, unseen of the King. Presently the Caliph fell to jesting and toying with Shams al-Nahar and both were in the highest spirits, glad and gay, when he bade them throw open the garden pavilion. So they opened the doors and windows and lighted the tapers till the place shone in the season of darkness even as the day. Then the eunuchs removed thither the wine-service and (quoth Abu al-Hasan) “I saw drinking-vessels and rarities whose like mine eyes never beheld, vases of gold and silver and all manner of noble metals and precious stones, such as no power of description can describe, till indeed it seemed to me I was dreaming, for excess of amazement at what I saw!” But as for Ali bin Bakkar, from the moment Shams al-Nahar left him, he lay strown on the ground for stress of love and desire; and, when he revived, he fell to gazing upon these things that had not their like and saying to Abu al-Hasan, “O my brother, I fear lest the Caliph see us or come to know of our case; but the most of my fear is for thee. For myself, of a truth I know that I am about to be lost past recourse, and the cause of my destruction is naught but love and longing and excess of desire and distraction, and disunion from my beloved after union with her; but I beseech Allah to deliver us from this perilous predicament.” And they ceased not to look out of the balcony on the Caliph who was taking his pleasure, till the banquet was spread before him, when he turned to one of the damsels and said to her, “O Gharám,7 let us hear some of thine enchanting songs.” So she took the lute and tuning it, began singing,
“The longing of a Bedouin maid, whose folks are far away,
Who yearns after the willow of the Hejaz and the bay,8 —
Whose tears, when she on travellers lights, might for their water serve
And eke her her passion, with its heat, their bivouac-fire purvey —
Is not more fierce nor ardent than my longing for my love,
Who deems that I commit a crime in loving him alway.”9
Now when Shams al-Nahar heard these verses she slipped off the stool whereon she sat and fell to the earth fainting and became insensible to the world around her; upon which the damsels came and lifted her up. And when Ali bin Bakkar saw this from the balcony he also slipped down senseless, and Abu al-Hasan said, “Verily Fate hath divided love-desire equally upon you twain!”10 As he spoke lo! in came the damsel who had led them up to the balcony and said to him, “O Abu al-Hasan, arise thou and thy friend and come down, for of a truth the world hath waxed strait upon us and I fear lest our case be discovered or the Caliph become aware of you; unless you descend at once we are dead ones.” Quoth he, “And how shall this youth descend with me seeing that he hath no strength to rise?” Thereupon the damsel began sprinkling rose-water on Ali bin Bakkar till he came to his senses, when Abu al-Hasan lifted him up and the damsel made him lean upon her. So they went down from the balcony and walked on awhile till the damsel opened a little iron door, and made the two friends pass through it, and they came upon a bench by the Tigris’ bank. Thereupon the slave-girl clapped her hands11 and there came up a man with a little boat to whom said she, “Take up these two young men and land them on the opposite side.” So both entered the boat and, as the man rowed off with them and they left the garden behind them, Ali bin Bakkar looked back towards the Caliph’s palace and the pavilion and the grounds; and bade them farewell with these two couplets,
“I offered this weak hand as last farewell,
While to heart-burning fire that hand is guided:
O let not this end union! Let not this
Be last provision for long road provided!”
Thereupon the damsel said to the boatman, “Make haste with them both.” So he plied his oars deftly (the slave-girl being still with them); — And Shahrazad perceived the dawning day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. blood as red as wine.
2 The wine-cup (sun-like) shines in thy hand; thy teeth are bright as the Pleiads and thy face rises like a moon from the darkness of thy dress-collar.
3 The masculine of Marjánah (Morgiana) “the she coral-branch;” and like this a name generally given to negroes. We have seen white applied to a blackamoor by way of metonomy and red is also connected with black skins by way of fun. A Persian verse says:
“If a black wear red, e’en an ass would grin.”
4 Suggesting that she had been sleeping.
5 Arab. “Raushan,” a window projecting and latticed: the word is orig. Persian: so Raushaná (splendour)=Roxana. It appears to me that this beautiful name gains beauty by being understood.
6 The word means any servant, but here becomes a proper name. “Wasífah” usually= a concubine.
7 i.e. eagerness, desire, love-longing.
8 Arab. “Rind,” which may mean willow (oriental), bay or aloes wood: Al–Asma’i denies that it ever signifies myrtle.
9 These lines occur in Night cxiv.: by way of variety I give (with permission) Mr. Payne’s version (iii. 59).
10 Referring to the proverb “Al–Khauf maksúm”=fear (cowardice) is equally apportioned: i.e. If I fear you, you fear me.
11 The fingers of the right hand are struck upon the palm of the left.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the boatman rowed them towards the other bank till they reached it and landed, whereupon she took leave of them, saying, “It were my wish not to abandon you, but I can go no farther than this.” Then she turned back, whilst Ali bin Bakkar lay prostrate on the ground before Abu al-Hasan and by no manner of means could he rise, till his friend said to him, “Indeed this place is not sure and I fear lest we lose our lives in this very spot, by reason of the lewd fellows who infest it and highwaymen and men of lawlessness.” Upon this Ali bin Bakkar arose and walked a little but could not continue walking. Now Abu al-Hasan had friends in that quarter; so he made search for one of them, in whom he trusted, and who was of his intimates, and knocked at the door. The man came out quickly and seeing them, bade them welcome and brought them into his house, where he seated them and talked with them and asked them whence they came. Quoth Abu al-Hasan, “We came out but now, being obliged thereto by a person with whom I had dealings and who hath in his hands dirhams of mine. And it reached me that he designed to flee into foreign parts with my monies; so I fared forth to-night in quest of him, taking with me for company this youth, Ali bin Bakkar; but, when we came hoping to see the debtor, he hid from us and we could get no sight of him. Accordingly we turned back, empty-handed without a doit, but it was irksome to us to return home at this hour of the night; so weeting not whither to go, we came to thee, well knowing thy kindness and wonted courtesy.” “Ye are welcome and well come!” answered the host, and studied to do them honour; so the twain abode with him the rest of their night and as soon as the daylight dawned, they left him and made their way back without aught of delay to the city. When they came to the house of Abu al-Hasan, he conjured his comrade to enter; so they went in and lying down on the bed, slept awhile. As soon as they awoke, Abu al-Hasan bade his servants spread the house with rich carpets, saying in his mind, “Needs must I divert this youth and distract him from thinking of his affliction, for I know his case better than another.” Then he called for water for Ali bin Bakkar who, when it was brought, rose up from his bed and making his ablutions, prayed the obligatory prayers which he had omitted for the past day and night1; after which he sat down and began to solace himself by talking with his friend. When Abu al-Hasan saw this, he turned to him and said, “O my lord, it were fitter for thy case that thou abide with me this night, so thy breast may be broadened and the distress of love-longing that is upon thee be dispelled and thou make merry with us, so haply the fire of thy heart may thus be quenched.” Ali replied, “O my brother, do what seemeth good to thee; for I may not on any wise escape from what calamity hath befallen me; so act as thou wilt.” Accordingly, Abu al-Hasan arose and bade his servants summon some of the choicest of his friends and sent for singers and musicians who came; and meanwhile he made ready meat and drink for them; so they sat eating and drinking and making merry through the rest of the day till nightfall. Then they lit the candles, and the cups of friendship and good fellowship went round amongst them and the time passed pleasantly with them. Presently, a singing-woman took the lute and began singing,
“I’ve been shot by Fortune, and shaft of eye
Down struck me and parted from fondest friend:
Time has proved him foe and my patience failed,
Yet I ever expected it thus would end.”
When Ali bin Bakkar heard her words, he fell to the earth in a swoon and ceased not lying in his fainting fit till day-break; and Abu al-Hasan despaired of him. But, with the dawning, he came to himself and sought to go home; nor could his friend hinder him, for fear of the issue of his affair. So he made his servants bring a she-mule and, mounting Ali thereon, carried him to his lodgings, he and one of his men. When he was safe at home, Abu al-Hasan thanked Allah for his deliverance from that sore peril and sat awhile with him, comforting him; but Ali could not contain himself, for the violence of his love and longing. So Abu al-Hasan rose to take leave of him and return to his own place. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 There are intricate rules for “joining” the prayers; but this is hardly the place for a subject discussed in all religious treatises. (Pilgrimage iii. 239.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abu al-Hasan rose to take leave of him, Ali son of Bakkar exclaimed, “O my brother, leave me not without news.” “I hear and obey,” replied the other; and forthwith went away and, repairing to his shop, opened it and sat there all day, expecting news of Shams al-Nahar. But none came. He passed the night in his own house and, when dawned the day, he walked to Ali bin Bakkar’s lodging and went in and found him thrown on his bed, with his friends about him and physicians around him prescribing something or other, and the doctors feeling his pulse. When he saw Abu al-Hasan enter he smiled, and the visitor, after saluting him, enquired how he did and sat with him till the folk withdrew, when he said to him, “What plight is this?” Quoth Ali bin Bakkar, “It was bruited abroad that I was ill and my comrades heard the report; and I have no strength to rise and walk so as to give him the lie who noised abroad my sickness, but continue lying strown here as thou seest. So my friends came to visit me; say, however, O my brother, hast thou seen the slave-girl or heard any news of her?” He replied, “I have not seen her, since the day we parted from her on Tigris’ bank;” and he presently added, “O my brother, beware thou of scandal and leave this weeping.” Rejoined Ali, “O my brother, indeed, I have no control over myself;” and he sighed and began reciting,
“She gives her woman’s hand a force that fails the hand of me,
And with red dye on wrist she gars my patience fail and flee:
And for her hand she fears so sore what shafts her eyes discharge,
She’s fain to clothe and guard her hand with mail-ring panoply:1
The leach in ignorance felt my pulse the while to him I cried,
‘Sick is my heart, so quit my hand which hath no malady:’
Quoth she to that fair nightly vision favoured me and fled,
‘By Allah picture him nor add nor ‘bate in least degree!’
Replied the Dream, ‘I leave him though he die of thirst,’
I cry,
‘Stand off from water-pit and say why this persistency.’
Rained tear-pearls her Narcissus-eyes, and rose on cheek belit
She made my sherbet, and the lote with bits of hail she bit.”2
And when his recital was ended he said, “O Abu al-Hasan, I am smitten with an affliction from which I deemed myself in perfect surety, and there is no greater ease for me than death.” Replied he, “Be patient, haply Allah will heal thee!” Then he went out from him and repairing to his shop opened it, nor had he sat long, when suddenly up came the handmaid who saluted him. He returned her salam and looking at her, saw that her heart was palpitating and that she was in sore trouble and showed signs of great affliction: so he said to her, “Thou art welcome and well come! How is it with Shams al-Nahar?” She answered, “I will presently tell thee, but first let me know how doth Ali bin Bakkar.” So he told her all that had passed and how his case stood, whereat she grieved and sighed and lamented and marvelled at his condition. Then said she, “My lady’s case is still stranger than this; for when you went away and fared homewards, I turned back, my heart beating hard on your account and hardly crediting your escape. On entering I found her lying prostrate in the pavilion, speaking not nor answering any, whilst the Commander of the Faithful sat by her head not knowing what ailed her and finding none who could make known to him aught of her ailment. She ceased not from her swoon till midnight, when she recovered and the Prince of the Faithful said to her, ‘What harm hath happened to thee, O Shams al-Nahar, and what hath befallen thee this night?’ Now when she heard the Caliph’s words she kissed his feet and said, ‘Allah make me thy ransom, O Prince of True Believers! Verily a sourness of stomach lighted a fire in my body, so that I lost my senses for excess of pain, and I know no more of my condition.’ Asked the Caliph, ‘What hast thou eaten to-day?’; and she answered, ‘I broke my fast on something I had never tasted before.’ Then she feigned to be recovered and calling for a something of wine, drank it, and begged the Sovereign to resume his diversion. So he sat down again on his couch in the pavilion and the sitting was resumed, but when she saw me, she asked me how you fared. I told her what I had done with you both and repeated to her the verses which Ali bin Bakkar had composed at parting-tide, whereat she wept secretly, but presently held her peace. After awhile, the Commander of the Faithful ordered a damsel to sing, and she began reciting,
‘Life has no sweet for me since forth ye fared;
Would Heaven I wot how fare ye who forsake:
’Twere only fit my tears were tears of blood,
Since you are weeping for mine absence sake.’
But when my lady heard this verse she fell back on the sofa in a swoon,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The hands being stained with Henna and perhaps indigo in stripes are like the ring rows of chain armour. See Lane’s illustration (Mod. Egypt, chaps. i.).
2 She made rose-water of her cheeks for my drink and she bit with teeth like grains of hail those lips like the lotus-fruit, or jujube: Arab. “Unnab” or “Nabk,” the plum of the Sidr or Zizyphus lotus.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the slave-girl continued to Abu al-Hasan, “But when my lady heard this verse, she fell back on the sofa in a swoon, and I seized her hand and sprinkled rose-water on her face, till she revived, when I said to her, ‘O my lady, expose not thyself and all thy palace containeth. By the life of thy beloved, be thou patient!’ She replied, ‘Can aught befal me worse than death which indeed I seek, for by Allah, my ease is therein?’ Whilst we were thus talking, another damsel sang these words of the poet,
‘Quoth they, ‘Maybe that Patience lend thee ease!’
Quoth I, ‘Since fared he where is Patience’ place?
Covenant he made ‘twixt me and him, to cut
The cords of Patience at our last embrace!’1
And as soon as she had finished her verse Shams al-Nahar swooned away once more, which when the Caliph saw, he came to her in haste and commanded the wine to be removed and each damsel to return to her chamber. He abode with her the rest of the night, and when dawned the day, he sent for chirurgeons and leaches and bade them medicine her, knowing not that her sickness arose from love and longing. I tarried with her till I deemed her in a way of recovery, and this is what kept me from thee. I have now left her with a number of her body-women, who were greatly concerned for her, when she bade me go to you two and bring her news of Ali bin Bakkar and return to her with the tidings.” When Abu al-Hasan heard her story, he marvelled and said, “By Allah, I have acquainted thee with his whole case; so now return to thy mistress; and salute her for me and diligently exhort her to have patience and say to her, ‘Keep thy secret!’; and tell her that I know all her case which is indeed hard and one which calleth for nice conduct.” She thanked him and taking leave of him, returned to her mistress. So far concerning her; but as regards Abu al-Hasan, he ceased not to abide in his shop till the end of the day, when he arose and shut it and locked it and betaking himself to Ali bin Bakkar’s house knocked at the door. One of the servants came out and admitted him; and when Ali saw him, he smiled and congratulated himself on his coming, saying, “O Abu al-Hasan, thou hast desolated me by thine absence this day; for indeed my soul is pledged to thee during the rest of my time.” Answered the other, “Leave this talk! Were thy healing at the price of my hand, I would cut it off ere thou couldst ask me; and, could I ransom thee with my life, I had already laid it down for thee. Now this very day, Shams al-Nahar’s handmaid hath been with me and told me that what hindered her coming ere this was the Caliph’s sojourn with her mistress; and she acquainted me with everything which had betided her.” And he went on to repeat to him all that the girl had told him of Shams al-Nahar; at which Ali bin Bakkar lamented sore and wept and said to him, “Allah upon thee, O my brother, help me in this affliction and teach me what course I shall take. Moreover, I beg thee of thy grace to abide with me this night, that I may have the solace of thy society.” Abu al-Hasan agreed to this request, replying that he would readily night there; so they talked together till even-tide darkened, when Ali bin Bakkar groaned aloud and lamented and wept copious tears, reciting these couplets,
“Thine image in these eyne, a-lip thy name,
My heart thy home; how couldst thou disappear?
How sore I grieve for life which comes to end,
Nor see I boon of union far or near.”
And these the words of another,
“She split my casque of courage with eye-swords that sorely
smite;
She pierced my patience’ ring-mail with her shape like cane-spear light:
Patched by the musky mole on cheek was to our sight displayed
Camphor set round with ambergris, light dawning through the night.2
Her soul was sorrowed and she bit carnelion stone with pearls
Whose unions in a sugared tank ever to lurk unite:3
Restless she sighed and smote with palm the snows that clothe her breast,
And left a mark whereon I looked and ne’er beheld such sight,
Pens, fashioned of her coral nails with ambergris for ink,
Five lines on crystal page of breast did cruelly indite:
O swordsmen armed with trusty steel! I bid you all beware
When she on you bends deadly glance which fascinates the sprite:
And guard thyself, O thou of spear! whenas she draweth near
To tilt with slender quivering shape, likest the nut-brown spear.”
And when Ali bin Bakkar ended his verse, he cried out with a great cry and fell down in a fit. Abu al-Hasan thought that his soul had fled his body and he ceased not from his swoon till day- break, when he came to himself and talked with his friend, who continued to sit with him till the forenoon. Then he left him and repaired to his shop; and hardly had he opened it, when lo! the damsel came and stood by his side. As soon as he saw her, she made him a sign of salutation which he returned; and she delivered to him the greeting message of her mistress and asked, “How doth Ali bin Bakkar?” Answered he, “O handmaid of good, ask me not of his case nor what he suffereth for excess of love-longing; he sleepeth not by night neither resteth he by day; wakefulness wasteth him and care hath conquered him and his condition is a consternation to his friend.” Quoth she, “My lady saluteth thee and him, and she hath written him a letter, for indeed she is in worse case than he; and she entrusted the same to me, saying, ‘Do not return save with the answer; and do thou obey my bidding.’ Here now is the letter, so say, wilt thou wend with me to him that we may get his reply?” “I hear and obey,” answered Abu al-Hasan, and locking his shop and taking with him the girl he went, by a way different from that whereby he came, to Ali bin Bakkar’s house, where he left her standing at the door and walked in. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Meaning to let Patience run away like an untethered camel.
2 i.e. her fair face shining through the black hair. “Camphor” is a favourite with Arab poets: the Persians hate it because connected in their minds with death; being used for purifying the corpse. We read in Burckhardt (Prov. 464) “Singing without siller is like a corpse without Hanút”— this being a mixture of camphor and rose-water sprinkled over the face of the dead before shrouded. Similarly Persians avoid speaking of coffee, because they drink it at funerals and use tea at other times.
3 i.e. she is angry and bites her carnelion lips with pearly teeth.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu al-Hasan went with the girl to the house of Ali son of Bakkar, where he left her standing at the door and walked in to his great joy. And Abu al-Hasan said to him, “The reason of my coming is that such an one hath sent his handmaid to thee with a letter, containing his greeting to thee and mentioning therein that the cause of his not coming to thee was a matter that hath betided him. The girl standeth even now at the door: shall she have leave to enter?”; and he signed to him that it was Shams al-Nahar’s slave-girl. Ali understood his signal and answered, “Bring her in,” and when he saw her, he shook for joy and signed to her, “How doth thy lord?; Allah grant him health and healing!” “He is well,” answered she and pulling out the letter gave it to him. He took it and kissing it, opened and read it; after which he handed it to Abu al-Hasan, who found these verses written therein,
“This messenger shall give my news to thee;
Patience what while my sight thou canst not see:
A lover leav’st in love’s insanity,
Whose eyne abide on wake incessantly:
I suffer patience-pangs in woes that none
Of men can medicine; — such my destiny!
Keep cool thine eyes; ne’er shall my heart forget,
Nor without dream of thee one day shall be.
Look what befel thy wasted frame, and thence
Argue what I am doomed for love to dree!
“And afterwards1:
Without fingers 2 I have written to thee, and without tongue I have spoken to thee to resume my case,
I have an eye wherefrom sleeplessness departeth not
and a heart whence sorrowful thought stirreth not
It is with me as though health I had never known
nor in sadness ever ceased to wone
nor spent an hour in pleasant place
but it is as if I were made up of pine and of the pain of passion and chagrin
Sickness unceasingly troubleth
and my yearning ever redoubleth
desire still groweth
and longing in my heart still gloweth
I pray Allah to hasten our union
and dispel of my mind the confusion
And I would fain thou favour me with some words of thine
that I may cheer my heart in pain and repine
Moreover, I would have thee put on a patience lief,
until Allah vouchsafe relief
And His peace be with thee.”3
When Ali bin Bakkar had read this letter he said in weak accents and feeble voice, “With what hand shall I write and with what tongue shall I make moan and lament? Indeed she addeth sickness to my sickness and draweth death upon my death!” Then he sat up and taking in hand ink-case and paper, wrote the following reply, “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate!4 Thy letter hath reached me, O my lady, and hath given ease to a sprite worn out with passion and love-longing, and hath brought healing to a wounded heart cankered with languishment and sickness; for indeed I am become even as saith the poet,
‘Straitened bosom; reveries dispread;
Slumberless eyelids; body wearied;
Patience cut short; disunion longsomest;
Reason deranged and heart whose life is fled!’
And know that complaining is unavailing; but it easeth him whom love-longing disordereth and separation destroyeth and, with repeating, ‘Union,’ I keep myself comforted and how fine is the saying of the poet who said,
‘Did not in love-plight joys and sorrows meet,
How would the message or the writ be sweet?’”
When he had made an end of this letter, he handed it to Abu al-Hasan, saying, “Read it and give it to the damsel.” So he took it and read it and its words stirred his soul and its meaning wounded his vitals. Then he committed it to the girl, and when she took it Ali bin Bakkar said to her, “Salute thy lady for me and acquaint her with my love and longing and how passion is blended with my flesh and my bones; and say to her that in very deed I need a woman who shall snatch me from the sea of destruction and save me from this dilemma; for of a truth Fortune oppresseth me with her vicissitudes; and is there any helper to free me from her turpitudes?” And he wept and the damsel wept for his weeping. Then she took leave of him and went forth and Abu al-Hasan went out with her and farewelled her. So she ganged her gait and he returned to his shop, which he opened and sat down there, as was his wont; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Wa ba’ad;” the formula which follows “Bismillah”— In the name of Allah. The French translate it or sus, etc. I have noticed the legend about its having been first used by the eloquent Koss, Bishop of Najran.
2 i.e. Her mind is so troubled she cannot answer for what she writes.
3 The Bul. Edit. (i. 329) and the Mac. Edit. (i. 780) give to Shams al-Nahar the greater part of Ali’s answer, as is shown by the Calc. Edit. (230 et seq.) and the Bresl. Edit. (ii. 366 et seq.) Lane mentions this (ii. 74) but in his usual perfunctory way gives no paginal references to the Calc. or Bresl.; so that those who would verify the text may have the displeasure of hunting for it.
4 Arab. “Bi’smi ‘lláhi’ r-Rahmáni’r-Rahím.” This auspicatory formula was borrowed by Al–Islam not from the Jews but from the Guebre “Ba nám-i-Yezdán bakhsháishgar-i-dádár!” (in the name of Yezdan–God — All-generous, All-just!). The Jews have, “In the name of the Great God;” and the Christians, “In the name of the Father, etc.” The so-called Sir John Mandeville begins his book, In the name of God, Glorious and Almighty. The sentence forms the first of the Koran and heads every chapter except only the ninth, an exception for which recondite reasons are adduced. Hence even in the present day it begins all books, letters and writings in general; and it would be a sign of Infidelity (i.e. non-Islamism) to omit it. The difference between “Rahmán” and “Rahím” is that the former represents an accidental (compassionating), the latter a constant quality (compassionate). Sale therefore renders it very imperfectly by “In the name of the most merciful God;” the Latinists better, “In nomine Dei misericordis, clementissimi” (Gottwaldt in Hamza Ispahanensis); Mr. Badger much better, “In the name of God, the Pitiful, the Compassionate”— whose only fault is not preserving the assonance: and Maracci best, “In nomine Dei miseratoris misericordis.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu al-Hasan farewelled the slave-girl and returned to his shop which he opened and sat down there according to his custom; but as he tarried, he found his heart oppressed and his breast straitened, and he was perplexed about his case. So he ceased not from melancholy the rest of that day and night, and on the morrow he betook himself to Ali bin Bakkar, with whom he sat till the folk withdrew, when he asked him how he did. Ali began to complain of desire and to descant upon the longing and distraction which possessed him, and repeated these words of the poet.
“Men have ‘plained of pining before my time,
Live and dead by parting been terrified:
But such feelings as those which my ribs immure
I have never heard of, nor ever espied.”
And these of another poet,
“I have borne for thy love what never bore
For his fair, Kays the ‘Daft one’1 hight of old:
Yet I chase not the wildlings of wold and wild
Like Kays, for madness is manifold.”
Thereupon quoth Abu al-Hasan, “Never did I see or hear of one like unto thee in thy love! When thou sufferest all this transport and sickness and trouble being enamoured of one who returneth thy passion, how would it be with thee if she whom thou lovest were contrary and contumelious, and thy case were discovered through her perfidy?” “And Ali the son of Bakkar” (says Abu al-Hasan) “was pleased with my words and he relied upon them and he thanked me for what I had said and done. I had a friend” (continued Abu al-Hasan), “to whom I discovered my affair and that of Ali and who knew that we were intimates; but none other than he was acquainted with what was betwixt us. He was wont to come to me and enquire how Ali did and after a little, he began to ask me about the damsel; but I fenced him off, saying, ‘She invited him to her and there was between him and her as much as can possibly take place, and this is the end of their affair; but I have devised me a plan and an idea which I would submit to thee.’” Asked his friend, “And what is that?” Answered Abu al-Hasan, “I am a person well known to have much dealing among men and women, and I fear, O my brother, lest the affair of these twain come to light and this lead to my death and the seizure of my goods and the rending of my repute and that of my family. Wherefore I have resolved to get together my monies and make ready forthright and repair to the city of Bassorah and there abide, till I see what cometh of their case, that none may know of me; for love hath lorded over both and correspondence passeth between them. At this present their go-between and confidante is a slave-girl who hath till now kept their counsel, but I fear lest haply anxiety get the better of her and she discover their secret to some one and the matter, being bruited abroad, might bring me to great grief and prove the cause of my ruin; for I have no excuse to offer my accusers.” Rejoined his friend, “Thou hast acquainted me with a parlous affair, from the like of which the wise and understanding will shrink with fear. Allah avert from thee the evil thou dreadest with such dread and save thee from the consequences thou apprehendest! Assuredly thy recking is aright.” So Abu al-Hasan returned to his place and began ordering his affairs and preparing for his travel; nor had three days passed ere he made an end of his business and fared forth Bassorah-wards. His friend came to visit him three days after but finding him not, asked of him from the neighbours who answered, “He set out for Bassorah three days ago, for he had dealings with its merchants and he is gone thither to collect monies from his debtors; but he will soon return.” The young man was confounded at the news and knew not whither to wend; and he said in his mind, “Would I had not parted from Abu al-Hasan!” Then he bethought him of some plan whereby he should gain access to Ali bin Bakkar; so he went to his lodging, and said to one of his servants, “Ask leave for me of thy lord that I may go in and salute him.” The servant entered and told his master and presently returning, invited the man to walk in. So he entered and found Ali bin Bakkar thrown back on the pillow and saluted him. Ali returned his greeting and bade him welcome; whereupon the young man began to excuse himself for having held aloof from him all that while and added, “O my lord, between Abu al-Hasan and myself there was close friendship, so that I used to trust him with my secrets and could not sever myself from him an hour. Now it so chanced that I was absent three days’ space on certain business with a company of my friends; and, when I came back and went to him, I found his shop locked up; so I asked the neighbours about him and they replied, ‘He is gone to Bassorah.’ Now I know he had no surer friend than thou; so, by Allah, tell me what thou knowest of him.” When Ali bin Bakkar heard this, his colour changed and he was troubled and answered, “I never heard till this day of his departure and, if the case be as thou sayest, weariness is come upon me.” And he began repeating,
“For joys that are no more I wont to weep,
While friends and lovers stood by me unscattered;
This day when disunited me and them
Fortune, I weep lost loves and friendship shattered.”
Then he hung his head ground-wards in thought awhile and presently raising it and looking to one of his servants, said, “Go to Abu al-Hasan’s house and enquire anent him whether he be at home or journeying abroad. If they say, ‘He is abroad’; ask whither he be gone.” The servant went out and returning after a while said to his master, “When I asked for Abu al-Hasan, his people told me that he was gone on a journey to Bassorah; but I saw a damsel standing at the door who, knowing me by sight, though I knew her not, said to me, ‘Art thou not servant to Ali bin Bakkar?’ ‘Even so,’ answered I; and she rejoined, ‘I bear a message for him from one who is the dearest of all folk to him.’ So she came with me and she is now standing at the door.” Quoth Ali bin Bakkar, “Bring her in.” The servant went out to her and brought her in, and the man who was with Ali looked at her and found her pretty. Then she advanced to the son of Bakkar and saluted him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 Arab. Majnún (i.e. one possessed by a Jinni) the well-known model lover of Layla, a fictitious personage for whom see D’Herbelot (s. v. Megnoun). She was celebrated by Abu Mohammed Nizam al-Din of Ganjah (ob. A.H. 597=1200) pop. known as Nizámi, the caustic and austere poet who wrote:—
The weals of this world are the ass’s meed!
Would Nizami were of the ass’s breed.
The series in the East begins chronologically with Yúsuf and Zulaykhá (Potiphar’s wife) sung by Jámi (nat. A.H. 817=1414); the next in date is Khusraw and Shirin (also by Nizami); Farhad and Shirin; and Layla and Majnun (the Night-black maid and the Maniac-man) are the last. We are obliged to compare the lovers with “Romeo and Juliet,” having no corresponding instances in modern days: the classics of Europe supply a host as Hero and Leander, Theagenes and Charicleia, etc. etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the slave-girl came in to Ali bin Bakkar, she advanced to him and saluted him and spake with him secretly; and from time to time during the dialogue he exclaimed with an oath and swore that he had not talked and tattled of it. Then she took leave of him and went away. Now Abu al-Hasan’s friend was a jeweller,1 and when she was gone, he found a place for speech and said to Ali bin Bakkar, “Doubtless and assuredly the Caliph’s household have some demand upon thee or thou hast dealings therewith?” “Who told thee of this?” asked Ali; and the jeweller answered, “I know it by yonder damsel who is Shams al-Nahar’s slave-girl; for she came to me a while since with a note wherein was written that she wanted a necklace of jewels; and I sent her a costly collar.” But when Ali bin Bakkar heard this, he was greatly troubled, so that the jeweller feared to see him give up the ghost, yet after a while he recovered himself and said, “O my brother, I conjure thee by Allah to tell me truly how thou knowest her.” Replied he, “Do not press this question upon me;” and Ali rejoined, “Indeed, I will not turn from thee till thou tell me the whole truth.” Quoth the jeweller, “I will tell thee all, on condition that thou distrust me not, and that my words cause thee no restraint; nor will I conceal aught from thee by way of secret but will discover to thee the truth of the affair, provided that thou acquaint me with the true state of thy case and the cause of thy sickness.” Then he told him all that had passed from first to last between Abu al-Hasan and himself, adding, “I acted thus only out of friendship for thee and of my desire to serve thee;” and assured him that he would keep his secret and venture life and good in his service. So Ali in turn told him his story and added, “By Allah, O my brother, naught moved me to keep my case secret from thee and from others but my fear lest folk should lift the veils of protection from certain persons.” Rejoined the jeweller, “And I desired not to foregather with thee but of the great affection I bear thee and my zeal for thee in every case, and my compassion for the anguish thy heart endureth from severance. Haply I may be a comforter to thee in the room of my friend, Abu al-Hasan, during the length of his absence: so be thou of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear.” Thereupon Ali thanked him and repeated these couplets,
“An say I, ‘Patient I can bear his faring,’
My tears and sighings give my say the lie;
How can I hide these tears that course adown
This plain, my cheek, for friend too fain to fly?”
Then he was silent awhile, and presently said to the jeweller “Knowest thou what secret the girl whispered to me?” Answered he, “Not I, by Allah, O my lord!” Quoth Ali, “She fancied that I directed Abu al-Hasan to go to Bassorah and that I had devised this device to put a stop to our correspondence and consorting. I swore to her that this was on nowise so; but she would not credit me and went away to her mistress, persisting in her injurious suspicions; for she inclined to Abu al-Hasan and gave ear to his word.” Answered the young jeweller, “O my brother, I understood as much from the girl’s manner; but I will win for thee thy wish, Inshallah!” Rejoined Ali bin Bakkar, “Who can be with me in this and how wilt thou do with her, when she shies and flies like a wildling of the wold?” Cried the jeweller “By Allah, needs must I do my utmost to help thee and contrive to scrape acquaintance with her without exposure or mischief!” Then he asked leave to depart and Ali bin Bakkar said, “O my brother, mind thou keep my counsel;” and he looked at him and wept. The jeweller bade him good-bye and fared forth. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The jeweller of Eastern tales from Marocco to Calcutta, is almost invariably a rascal: here we have an exception.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the jeweller bade him good-bye and fared forth not knowing what he should do to win for him his wishes; and he ceased not walking, while over-musing the matter, till he spied a letter lying in the road. He took it up and looked at its direction and superscription, then read it and behold, it ran:—“From the least worthy of lovers to the most worthy of beloveds.” So he opened it and found these words written therein,
“A messenger from thee came bringing union-hope,
But that he erred somehow with me the thought prevailed;
So I rejoiced not; rather grew my grief still more;
Weeting my messenger of wits and wit had failed.
“But afterwards: Know, O my lord! that I ken not the reason why our correspondence between thee and me hath been broken off: but, if the cruelty arise from thy part, I will requite it with fidelity, and if thy love have departed, I will remain constant to my love of the parted, for I am with thee even as says the poet,
‘Be proud; I’ll crouch! Bully; I’ll bear! Despise; I’ll pray!
Go; I will come! Speak; I will hear! Bid; I’ll obey!’”
As he was reading lo! up came the slave-girl, looking right and left, and seeing the paper in the jeweller’s hand, said to him, “O my master, this letter is one I let fall.” He made her no answer, but walked on, and she walked behind him, till he came to his house, when he entered and she after him, saying, “O my master, give me back this letter, for it fell from me.” Thereon he turned to her and said, “O handmaid of good, fear not neither grieve, for verily Allah the Protector loveth those who protect; but tell me in truthful way thy case, as I am one who keepeth counsel. I conjure thee by an oath not to hide from me aught of thy lady’s affairs; for haply Allah shall help me to further her wishes and make easy by my hand that which is hard.” When the slave-girl heard these words she said, “O my lord, indeed a secret is not lost whereof thou art the secretist; nor shall any affair come to naught for which thou strivest. Know that my heart inclineth to thee and would interest thee with my tidings, but do thou give me the letter.” Then she told him the whole story, adding, “Allah is witness to whatso I say.” Quoth he, “Thou hast spoken truly, for I am acquainted with the root of the matter.” Then he told her his tale of Ali bin Bakkar and how he had learned his state of mind; and related to her all that had passed from first to last, whereat she rejoiced; and they two agreed that she should take the letter and carry it to Ali and return and acquaint the jeweller with all that happened. So he gave her the letter and she took it and sealed it up as it was before, saying, “My mistress Shams al-Nahar gave it to me sealed; and when he hath read it and given me its reply, I will bring it to thee.” Then she took leave and repaired to Ali bin Bakkar, whom she found waiting, and gave him the letter. He read it and writing a paper by way of reply, gave it to her; and she carried it to the jeweller, who tore asunder the seal1 and read it and found written therein these two couplets,
“The messenger, who kept our commerce hid,
Hath failed, and showeth wrath without disguise;2
Choose one more leal from your many friends
Who, truth approving, disapproves of lies.
“To proceed:
Verily, I have not entered upon perfidy
nor have I abandoned fidelity
I have not used cruelty
neither have I out off lealty
no covenant hath been broken by me
nor hath love-tie been severed by me
I have not parted from penitence
nor have I found aught but misery and ruin after severance
I know nothing of that thou avouchest
nor do I love aught but that which thou lovest
By Him who knoweth the secret of hidden things none discover
I have no desire save union with my lover
and my one business is my passion to conceal
albeit with sore sickness I ail.
This is the exposition of my case and now all hail!”
When the jeweller read this letter and learnt its contents he wept with sore weeping, and the slave-girl said to him, “Leave not this place till I return to thee; for he suspecteth me of such and such things, in which he is excusable; so it is my desire to bring about a meeting between thee and my mistress, Shams al-Nahar, howsoever I may trick you to it. For the present I left her prostrate, awaiting my return with the reply.” Then she went away and the jeweller passed the night with a troubled mind. And when day dawned he prayed his dawn-prayer and sat expecting the girl’s coming; and behold, she came in to him rejoicing with much joy and he asked her, “What news, O damsel?” She answered, “After leaving thee I went to my mistress and gave her the letter written by Ali bin Bakkar; and, when she read it and understood it, she was troubled and confounded; but I said to her, ‘O my lady, have no fear of your affair being frustrated by Abu al-Hasan’s disappearance, for I have found one to take his place, better than he and more of worth and a good man to keep secrets.’ Then I told her what was between thyself and Abu al-Hasan and how thou camest by his confidence and that of Ali bin Bakkar and how that note was dropped and thou camest by it; and I also showed her how we arranged matters betwixt me and thee.” The jeweller marvelled with much wonder, when she resumed, “And now my mistress would hear whatso thou sayest, that she may be assured by thy speech of the covenants between thee and him; so get thee ready to go with me to her forthwith.” When the jeweller heard the slave-girl’s words, he saw that the proposed affair was grave and a great peril to brave, not lightly to be undertaken or suddenly entered upon, and he said to her, “O my sister, verily, I am of the ordinary and not like unto Abu al-Hasan; for he being of high rank and of well-known repute, was wont to frequent the Caliph’s household, because of their need of his merchandise. As for me, he used to talk with me and I trembled before him the while. So, if thy mistress would speak with me, our meeting must be in some place other than the Caliph’s palace and far from the abode of the Commander of the Faithful; for my common sense will not let me consent to what thou proposest.” On this wise he refused to go with her and she went on to say that she would be surety for his safety, adding, “Take heart and fear no harm!” and pressed him to courage till he consented to accompany her; withal, his legs bent and shivered and his hands quivered and he exclaimed, “Allah forbid that I should go with thee! Indeed, I have not strength to do this thing!” Replied she, “Hearten thy heart, if it be hard for thee to go to the Caliph’s palace and thou canst not muster up courage to accompany me, I will make her come to thee; so budge not from thy place till I return to thee with her.” Then the slave-girl went away and was absent for a while, but a short while, after which she returned to the jeweller and said to him, “Take thou care that there be with thee none save thyself, neither man-slave nor girl-slave.” Quoth he, “I have but a negress, who is in years and who waiteth on me.”3 So she arose and locked the door between his negress and the jeweller and sent his man-servants out of the place; after which she fared forth and presently returned, followed by a lady who, entering the house, filled it with the sweet scent of her perfumes. When the jeweller saw her, he sprang up and set her a couch and a cushion; and she sat down while he seated himself before her. She abode awhile without speaking till she had rested herself, when she unveiled her face and it seemed to the jeweller’s fancy as if the sun had risen in his home. Then she asked her slave-girl, “Is this the man of whom thou spakest to me?” “Yes,” answered she; whereupon the lady turned to the jeweller and said to him, “How is it with thee?” Replied he, “Right well! I pray Allah for thy preservation and that of the Commander of the Faithful.” Quoth she, “Thou hast moved us to come to thee and possess thee with what we hold secret.” Then she questioned him of his household and family; and he disclosed to her all his circumstance and his condition and said to her, “I have a house other than this; and I have set it apart for gathering together my friends and brethren; and there is none there save the old negress, of whom I spoke to thy handmaid.” She asked him on what wise he came first to know how the affair began and the matter of Abu al-Hasan and the cause of his way-faring: accordingly he told her all he knew and how he had advised the journey. Thereupon she bewailed the loss of Abu al-Hasan and said to the jeweller, “Know, O such an one,4 that men’s souls are active in their lusts and that men are still men; and that deeds are not done without words nor is end ever reached without endeavour. Rest is won only by work.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This must not be understood of sealing-wax, which, however, is of ancient date. The Egyptians (Herod. ii. 38) used “sealing earth” ( ) probably clay, impressed with a signet ( ); the Greeks mud-clay ( ); and the Romans first cretula and then wax (Beckmann). Mediæval Europe had bees-wax tempered with Venice turpentine and coloured with cinnabar or similar material. The modern sealing-wax, whose distinctive is shell-lac, was brought by the Dutch from India to Europe; and the earliest seals date from about A.D. 1560. They called it Ziegel-lak, whence the German Siegel-lack, the French preferring cire-à-cacheter, as distinguished from cire-à-sceller, the softer material. The use of sealing-wax in India dates from old times and the material, though coarse and unsightly, is still preferred by Anglo–Indians because it resists heat whereas the best English softens like pitch.
2 Evidently referring to the runaway Abu al-Hasan, not to the she-Mercury.
3 An unmarried man is not allowed to live in a respectable quarter of a Moslem city unless he takes such precaution. Lane (Mod. Egypt. passim) has much to say on this point; and my excellent friend the late Professor Spitta at Cairo found the native prejudice very troublesome.
4 Arab. “Yá fulán”=O certain person (fulano in Span. and Port.) a somewhat contemptuous address.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shams al-Nahar thus addressed the jeweller, “Rest is gained only by work and success is gendered only by help of the generous. Now I have acquainted thee with our affair and it is in thy hand to expose us or to shield us; I say no more, because thy generosity requireth naught. Thou knowest that this my handmaiden keepeth my counsel and therefore occupieth high place in my favour; and I have selected her to transact my affairs of importance. So let none be worthier in thy sight than she and acquaint her with thine affair; and be of good cheer, for on her account thou art safe from all fear, and there is no place shut upon thee but she shall open it to thee. She shall bring thee my messages to Ali bin Bakkar and thou shalt be our intermediary.” So saying, she rose, scarcely able to rise, and fared forth, the jeweller faring before her to the door of her house, after which he returned and sat down again in his place, having seen of her beauty and heard of her speech what dazzled him and dazed his wit, and having witnessed of her grace and courtesy what bewitched his sprite. He sat musing on her perfections till his mind waxed tranquil, when he called for food and ate enough to keep soul and body together. Then he changed his clothes and went out; and, repairing to the house of the youth Ali bin Bakkar, knocked at the door. The servants hastened to admit him and walked before him till they had brought him to their master, whom he found strown upon his bed. Now when he saw the jeweller, he said to him, “Thou hast tarried long from me, and that hath heaped care upon my care.” Then he dismissed his servants and bade the doors be shut; after which he said to the jeweller, “By Allah, O my brother, I have not closed my eyes since the day I saw thee last; for the slave-girl came to me yesterday with a sealed letter from her mistress Shams al-Nahar;” and went on to tell him all that had passed with her, adding, “By the Lord, I am indeed perplexed concerning mine affair and my patience faileth me: for Abu al-Hasan was a comforter who cheered me because he knew the slave-girl.” When the jeweller heard his words, he laughed; and Ali said, “Why dost thou laugh at my words, thou on whose coming I congratulated myself and to whom I looked for provision against the shifts of fortune?” Then he sighed and wept and repeated these couplets,1
“Full many laugh at tears they see me shed
Who had shed tears an bore they what I bore;
None feeleth pity for th’ afflicted’s woe,
Save one as anxious and in woe galore:
My passion, yearning, sighing, thought, repine
Are for me cornered in my heart’s deep core:
He made a home there which he never quits,
Yet rare our meetings, not as heretofore:
No friend to stablish in his place I see;
No intimate but only he and — he.”
Now when the jeweller heard these lines and understood their significance, he wept also and told him all that had passed betwixt himself and the slave-girl and her mistress since he left him. And Ali bin Bakkar gave ear to his speech, and at every word he heard his colour shifted from white to red and his body grew now stronger and then weaker till the tale came to an end, when he wept and said, “O my brother, I am a lost man in any case: would mine end were nigh, that I might be at rest from all this! But I beg thee, of thy favour, to be my helper and comforter in all my affairs till Allah fulfil whatso be His will; and I will not gainsay thee with a single word.” Quoth the jeweller, “Nothing will quench thy fire save union with her whom thou lovest; and the meeting must be in other than this perilous place. Better it were in a house of mine where the girl and her mistress met me; which place she chose for herself, to the intent that ye twain may there meet and complain each to other of what you have suffered from the pangs of love.” Quoth Ali bin Bakkar, “O good Sir, do as thou wilt and with Allah be thy reward!; and what thou deemest is right do it forthright: but be not long in doing it, lest I perish of this anguish.” “So I abode with him (said the jeweller) that night conversing with him till the morning morrowed,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Mr. Payne remarks, “These verses apparently relate to Aboulhusn, but it is possible that they may be meant to refer to Shemsennehar.” (iii. 80.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the jeweller continued:—“So I abode with him that night conversing with him till the morning morrowed, when I prayed the dawn-prayers and, going out from him, returned to my house. Hardly had I settled down when the damsel came up and saluted me; and I returned her salutation and told her what had passed between myself and Ali bin Bakkar, and she said, ‘Know that the Caliph hath left us and there is no one in our place and it is safer for us and better.’ Replied I, ‘Sooth thou sayest; yet is it not like my other house which is both fitter and surer for us;’ and the slave-girl rejoined ‘Be it as thou seest fit. I am now going to my lady and will tell her what thou sayest and acquaint her with all thou hast mentioned.’ So she went away and sought her mistress and laid the project before her, and presently returned and said to me, ‘It is to be as thou sayest: so make us ready the place and expect us.’ Then she took out of her breast-pocket a purse of dinars and gave this message, ‘My lady saluteth thee and saith to thee, ‘Take this and provide therewith what the case requireth.’ But I swore that I would accept naught of it; so she took the purse and returning to her mistress, told her, ‘He would not receive the money, but gave it back to me.’ ‘No matter,’ answered Shams al-Nahar. As soon as the slave-girl was gone” (continued the jeweller), “I arose and betook myself to my other house and transported thither all that was needful, by way of vessels and furniture and rich carpets; and I did not forget china vases and cups of glass and gold and silver; and I made ready meat and drink required for the occasion. When the damsel came and saw what I had done, it pleased her and she bade me fetch Ali bin Bakkar; but I said, ‘None shall bring him save thou.’ Accordingly she went to him and brought him back perfectly dressed and looking his best. I met him and greeted him and then seated him upon a divan befitting his condition, and set before him sweet-scented flowers in vases of china and vari-coloured glass.1 Then I set on a tray of many-tinted meats such as broaden the breast with their sight, and sat talking with him and diverting him, whilst the slave-girl went away and was absent till after sundown-prayers, when she returned with Shams al-Nahar, attended by two maids and none else. Now as soon as she saw Ali bin Bakkar and he saw her, he rose and embraced her, and she on her side embraced him and both fell in a fit to the ground. They lay for a whole hour insensible; then, coming to themselves, they began mutually to complain of the pains of separation. Thereupon they drew near to each other and sat talking charmingly, softly, tenderly; after which they somewhat perfumed themselves and fell to thanking me for what I had done for them. Quoth I, ‘Have ye a mind for food?’ ‘Yes,’ quoth they. So I set before them a small matter of food and they ate till they were satisfied and then washed their hands; after which I led them to another sitting-room and brought them wine. So they drank and drank deep and inclined to each other; and presently Shams al-Nahar said to me, ‘O my master, complete thy kindness by bringing us a lute or other instrument of mirth and music that the measure of our joy may be fully filled.’ I replied, ‘On my head and eyes!’ and rising brought her a lute, which she took and tuned; then laying it in her lap she touched it with a masterly touch, at once exciting to sadness and changing sorrow to gladness; after which she sang these two couplets,
‘My sleeplessness would show I love to bide on wake;
And would my leanness prove that sickness is my make:
And tear-floods course adown the cheeks they only scald;
Would I knew union shall disunion overtake!’
Then she went on to sing the choicest and most affecting poesy to many and various modes, till our senses were bewitched and the very room danced with excess of delight and surprise at her sweet singing; and neither thought nor reason was left in us. When we had sat awhile and the cup had gone round amongst us, the damsel took the lute and sang to a lively measure these couplets,
‘My love a meeting promised me and kept it faithfully,
One night as many I shall count in number and degree:
O Night of joyance Fate vouchsafed to faithful lovers tway,
Uncaring for the railer loon and all his company!
My lover lay the Night with me and clipt me with his right,
While I with left embraced him, a-faint for ecstasy;
And hugged him to my breast and sucked the sweet wine of his lips,
Full savouring the honey-draught the honey-man sold to me.’
Whilst we were thus drowned in the sea of gladness” (continued the jeweller) “behold, there came in to us a little maid trembling and said, ‘O my lady, look how you may go away for the folk have found you out and have surrounded the house; and we know not the cause of this!’ When I heard her words, I arose startled and lo! in rushed a slave-girl who cried, ‘Calamity hath come upon you.’ At the same moment the door was burst open and there rushed in upon us ten men masked in kerchiefs with hangers in their hands and swords by their sides, and as many more behind them. When I saw this, the world was straitened on me for all its wideness, and I looked to the door but saw no issue; so I sprang from the terrace into the house of one of my neighbours and there hid myself. Thence I found that folk had entered my lodgings and were making a mighty hubbub; and I concluded that the Caliph had got wind of us and had sent his Chief of the Watch to seize us and bring us before him. So I abode confounded and ceased not remaining in my place, without any possibility of quitting it till midnight. And presently the house-master arose, for he had heard me moving, and he feared with exceeding great fear of me; so he came forth from his room with drawn brand in hand and made at me, saying, ‘Who is this in my house?’ Quoth I, ‘I am thy neighbour the jeweller;’ and he knew me and retired. Then he fetched a light and coming up to me, said, ‘O my brother, indeed that which hath befallen thee this night is no light matter to me.’ I replied, ‘O my brother, tell me who was in my house and entered it breaking in my door; for I fled to thee not knowing what was to do.’ He answered, ‘Of a truth the robbers who attacked our neighbours yesterday and slew such an one and took his goods, saw thee on the same day bringing furniture into this house; so they broke in upon thee and stole thy goods and slew thy guests.’ Then we arose” (pursued the jeweller), “I and he, and repaired to my house, which we found empty without a stick remaining in it; so I was confounded at the case and said to myself, ‘As for the gear I care naught about its loss, albeit I borrowed part of the stuff from my friends and it hath come to grief; yet is there no harm in that, for they know my excuse in the plunder of my property and the pillage of my place. But as for Ali bin Bakkar and the Caliph’s favourite concubine, I fear lest their case get bruited abroad and this cause the loss of my life.’ So I turned to my neighbour and said to him, ‘Thou art my brother and my neighbour and wilt cover my nakedness; what then dost thou advise me to do?’ The man answered, ‘What I counsel thee to do is to keep quiet and wait; for they who entered thy house and took thy goods have murdered the best men of a party from the palace of the Caliphate and have killed not a few of the watchmen: the government officers and guards are now in quest of them on every road and haply they will hit upon them, whereby thy wish will come about without effort of thine.’” The jeweller hearing these words returned to his other house, that wherein he dwelt — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. and Pers “Bulúr” (vulg. billaur) retaining the venerable tradition of the Belus — river. In Al–Hariri (Ass. of Halwán) it means crystal and there is no need of proposing to translate it by onyx or to identify it with the Greek, the beryl.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the jeweller heard these words he returned to his other house wherein he dwelt, and said to himself, “Indeed this that hath befallen me is what Abu al-Hasan feared and from which he fled to Bassorah. And now I have fallen into it.” Presently the pillage of his pleasure-house was noised abroad among the folk, and they came to him from all sides and places, some exulting in his misfortune and others excusing him and condoling with his sorrow; whilst he bewailed himself to them and for grief neither ate meat nor drank drink. And as he sat, repenting him of what he had done, behold one of his servants came in to him and said, “There is a person at the door who asketh for thee; and I know him not.” The jeweller went forth to him and saluted him who was a stranger; and the man whispered to him, “I have somewhat to say between our two selves.” Thereupon he brought him in and asked him, “What hast thou to tell me?” Quoth the man, “Come with me to thine other house;” and the jeweller enquired, “Dost thou then know my other house?” Replied the other, “I know all about thee and I know that also whereby Allah will dispel thy dolours.” “So I said to myself” (continued the jeweller) “‘I will go with him whither he will;’ and went out and walked on till we came to my second house; and when the man saw it he said to me, ‘It is without door or doorkeeper, and we cannot possibly sit in it; so come thou with me to another place.’ Then the man continued passing from stead to stead (and I with him) till night overtook us. Yet I put no question to him of the matter in hand and we ceased not to walk on, till we reached the open country. He kept saying, ‘Follow me,’ and quickened his pace to a trot, whilst I trotted after him heartening my heart to go on, until we reached the river, where he took boat with me, and the boatman rowed us over to the other bank. Then he landed from the boat and I landed after him: and he took my hand and led me to a street which I had never entered in all my days, nor do I know in what quarter it was. Presently the man stopped at the door of a house, and opening it entered and made me enter with him; after which he locked the door with an iron padlock,1 and led me along the vestibule, till he brought me in the presence of ten men who were as though they were one and the same man; they being brothers. We saluted them” (continued the jeweller) “and they returned our greeting and bade us be seated; so we sat down. Now I was like to die for excess of weariness; but they brought me rose-water and sprinkled it on my face; after which they gave me a sherbet to drink and set before me food whereof some of them ate with me. Quoth I to myself, ‘Were there aught harmful in the food, they would not eat with me.’ So I ate, and when we had washed our hands, each of us returned to his place. Then they asked me, ‘Dost thou know us?’ and I answered, ‘No! nor in my life have I ever seen you; nay, I know not even him who brought me hither.’ Said they, ‘Tell us thy tidings and lie not at all.’ Replied I, ‘Know then that my case is wondrous and my affair marvellous; but wot ye anything about me?’ They rejoined, ‘Yes! it was we took thy goods yesternight and carried off thy friend and her who was singing to him.’ Quoth I, ‘Allah let down His veil over you! Where be my friend and she who was singing to him?’ They pointed with their hands to one side and replied, ‘Yonder, but, by Allah, O our brother, the secret of their case is known to none save to thee, for from the time we brought the twain hither up to this day, we have not looked upon them nor questioned them of their condition, seeing them to be persons of rank and dignity. Now this and this only it was that hindered our killing them: so tell us the truth of their case and thou shalt be assured of thy safety and of theirs.’ When I heard this” (continued the jeweller) “I almost died of fright and horror, and I said to them, ‘Know ye, O my brethren, that if generosity were lost, it would not be found save with you; and had I a secret which I feared to reveal, none but your breasts would conceal it.’ And I went on exaggerating their praises in this fashion, till I saw that frankness and readiness to speak out would profit me more than concealing facts; so I told them all that had betided me to the very end of the tale. When they heard it, they said, ‘And is this young man Ali Bakkar-son and this lady Shams al-Nahar?’ I replied, ‘Yes.’ Now this was grievous to them and they rose and made their excuses to the two and then they said to me, ‘Of what we took from thy house part is spent, but here is what is left of it.’ So speaking, they gave me back most of my goods and they engaged to return them to their places in my house, and to restore me the rest as soon as they could. My heart was set at ease till they split into two parties, one with me and the other against me; and we fared forth from that house and such was my case. But as regards Ali bin Bakkar and Shams al-Nahar; they were well-nigh dying for excess of fear, when I went up to them and saluting them, asked, ‘What happened to the damsel and the two maids, and where be they gone?’, and they answered only, ‘We know nothing of them.’ Then we walked on and stinted not till we came to the river-bank where the barque lay; and we all boarded it, for it was the same which had brought me over on the day before. The boatman rowed us to the other side; but hardly had we landed and taken seat on the bank to rest, when a troop of horse swooped down on us like eagles and surrounded us on all sides and places, whereupon the robbers with us sprang up in haste like vultures, and the boat put back for them and took them in and the boatman pushed off into mid-stream, leaving us on the river bank, unable to move or to stand still. Then the chief horseman said to us, ‘Whence be ye!’; and we were perplexed for an answer, but I said” (continued the jeweller), “‘Those ye saw with us are rogues; we know them not. As for us, we are singers, and they intended taking us to sing for them, nor could we get free of them, save by subtlety and soft words; so on this occasion they let us go, their works being such as you have seen.’ But they looked at Shams al-Nahar and Ali bin Bakkar and said to me, ‘Thou hast not spoken sooth but, if thy tale be true, tell us who ye are and whence ye are; and what be your place and in what quarter you dwell.’ I knew not what to answer them, but Shams al-Nahar sprang up and approaching the Captain of the horsemen spoke with him privily, whereupon he dismounted from his steed and, setting her on horse-back, took the bridle and began to lead his beast. And two of his men did the like with the youth, Ali bin Bakkar, and it was the same with myself. The Commandant of the troop ceased not faring on with us, till they reached a certain part of the river bank, when he sang out in some barbarous jargon2 and there came to us a number of men with two boats. Then the Captain embarked us in one of them (and he with us) whilst the rest of his men put off in the other, and rowed on with us till we arrived at the palace of the Caliphate where Shams al-Nahar landed. And all the while we endured the agonies of death for excess of fear, and they ceased not faring till they came to a place whence there was a way to our quarter. Here we landed and walked on, escorted by some of the horsemen, till we came to Ali bin Bakkar’s house; and when we entered it, our escort took leave of us and went their way. We abode there, unable to stir from the place and not knowing the difference between morning and evening; and in such case we continued till the dawn of the next day. And when it was again nightfall, I came to myself and saw Ali bin Bakkar and the women and men of his household weeping over him, for he was stretched out without sense or motion. Some of them came to me and thoroughly arousing me said, ‘Tell us what hath befallen our son and say how came he in this plight?’ Replied I, ‘O folk, hearken to me!’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the jeweller answered them, “‘O folk, hearken to my words and give me no trouble and annoyance! but be patient and he will come to and tell you his tale for himself.’ And I was hard upon them and made them afraid of a scandal between me and them, but as we were thus, behold, Ali bin Bakkar moved on his carpet-bed, whereat his friends rejoiced and the stranger folk withdrew from him; but his people forbade me to go away. Then they sprinkled rose-water on his face and he presently revived and sensed the air; whereupon they questioned him of his case, and he essayed to answer them but his tongue could not speak forthright and he signed to them to let me go home. So they let me go, and I went forth hardly crediting my escape and returned to my own house, supported by two men. When my people saw me thus, they rose up and set to shrieking and slapping their faces; but I signed to them with my hand to be silent and they were silent. Then the two men went their way and I threw myself down on my bed, where I lay the rest of the night and awoke not till the forenoon, when I found my people gathered round me and saying, ‘What calamity befel thee, and what evil with its mischief did fell thee?’ Quoth I ‘Bring me somewhat to drink.’ So they brought me drink, and I drank of it what I would and said to them, ‘What happened, happened.’ Thereupon they went away and I made my excuses to my friends, and asked if any of the goods that had been stolen from my other house had been returned. They answered, ‘Yes! some of them have come back; by token that a man entered and threw them down within the doorway and we saw him not.’ So I comforted myself and abode in my place two days, unable to rise and leave it; and presently I took courage and went to the bath, for I was worn out with fatigue and troubled in mind for Ali bin Bakkar and Shams al-Nahar, because I had no news of them all this time and could neither get to Ali’s house nor, out of fear for my life, take my rest in mine own. And I repented to Almighty Allah of what I had done and praised Him for my safety. Presently my fancy suggested to me to go to such and such a place and see the folk and solace myself; so I went on foot to the cloth-market and sat awhile with a friend of mine there. When I rose to go, I saw a woman standing over against me; so I looked at her, and lo! it was Shams al-Nahar’s slave-girl. When I saw her, the world grew dark in my eyes and I hurried on. She followed me, but I was seized with affright and fled from her, and whenever I looked at her, a trembling came upon me whilst she pursued me, saying. ‘Stop, that I may tell thee somewhat!’ But I heeded her not and never ceased walking till I reached a mosque, and she entered after me. I prayed a two-bow prayer, after which I turned to her and, sighing, said, ‘What cost thou want?’ She asked me how I did, and I told her all that had befallen myself and Ali bin Bakkar and besought her for news of herself. She answered, ‘Know that when I saw the robbers break open thy door and rush in, I was in sore terror, for I doubted not but that they were the Caliph’s officers and would seize me and my mistress and we should perish forthwith: so we fled over the roofs, I and the maids; and, casting ourselves down from a high place, came upon some people with whom we took refuge; and they received us and brought us to the palace of the Caliphate, where we arrived in the sorriest of plights. We concealed our case and abode on coals of fire till nightfall, when I opened the river-gate and, calling the boatman who had carried us the night before, said to him, ‘I know not what is become of my mistress; so take me in the boat, that we may go seek her on the river: haply I shall chance on some news of her. Accordingly he took me into the boat and went about with me and ceased not wending till midnight, when I spied a barque making towards the water gate, with one man rowing and another standing up and a woman lying prostrate between them twain. And they rowed on till they reached the shore when the woman landed, and I looked at her, and behold, it was Shams al-Nahar. Thereupon I got out and joined her, dazed for joy to see her after having lost all hopes of finding her alive.’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the slave-girl went on telling the jeweller, “‘I was dazed for joy to see her, after having lost all hopes of finding her alive. When I came up to her, she bade me give the man who had brought her thither a thousand gold pieces; and we carried her in, I and the two maids, and laid her on her bed; where she passed that night in a sorely troubled state; and, when morning dawned, I forbade the women and eunuchs to go in to her, or even to draw near her for the whole of that day; but on the next she revived and somewhat recovered and I found her as if she had come out of her grave. I sprinkled rose-water upon her face and changed her clothes and washed her hands and feet; nor did I cease to coax her, till I brought her to eat a little and drink some wine, though she had no mind to any such matter. As soon as she had breathed the fresh air and strength began to return to her, I took to upbraiding her, saying, ‘O my lady, consider and have pity on thyself; thou seest what hath betided us: surely, enough and more than enough of evil hath befallen thee; for indeed thou hast been nigh upon death. She said, ‘By Allah, O good damsel, in sooth death were easier to me than what hath betided me; for it seemed as though I should be slain and no power could save me. When the robbers took us from the jeweller’s house they asked me, Who mayest thou be? and hearing my answer, ‘I am a singing girl, they believed me. Then they turned to Ali bin Bakkar and made enquiries about him, ‘And who art thou and what is thy condition?; whereto he replied, ‘I am of the common kind. So they took us and carried us along, without our resisting, to their abode; and we hurried on with them for excess of fear; but when they had us set down with them in the house, they looked hard at me and seeing the clothes I wore and my necklaces and jewellery, believed not my account of myself and said to me, ‘Of a truth these necklaces belong to no singing-girl; so be soothfast and tell us the truth of thy case. I returned them no answer whatever, saying in my mind, ‘Now will they slay me for the sake of my apparel and ornaments; and I spoke not a word. Then the villains turned to Ali bin Bakkar, asking, ‘And thou, who art thou and whence art thou? for thy semblance seemeth not as that of the common kind. But he was silent and we ceased not to keep our counsel and to weep, till Allah softened the rogues’ hearts to pity and they said to us, ‘Who is the owner of the house wherein we were?’ We answered, ‘Such an one, the jeweller; whereupon quoth one of them, ‘I know him right well and I wot the other house where he liveth and I will engage to bring him to you this very hour. Then they agreed to set me in a place by myself and Ali bin Bakkar in a place by himself, and said to us, ‘Be at rest ye twain and fear not lest your secret be divulged; ye are safe from us. Meanwhile their comrade went away and returned with the jeweller, who made known to them our case, and we joined company with him; after which a man of the band fetched a barque, wherein they embarked us all three and, rowing us over the river, landed us with scant ceremony on the opposite bank and went their ways. Thereupon up came a horse-patrol and asked us who we were; so I spoke with the Captain of the watch and said to him, ‘I am Shams al-Nahar, the Caliph’s favourite; I had drunken strong wine and went out to visit certain of my acquaintance of the wives of the Wazirs, when yonder rogues came upon me and laid hold of me and brought me to this place; but when they saw you, they fled as fast as they could. I met these men with them: so do thou escort me and them to a place of safety and I will requite thee as I am well able to do. When the Captain of the watch heard my speech, he knew me and alighting, mounted me on his horse; and in like manner did two of his men with Ali bin Bakkar. So I spoke to her’ (continued the handmaid) ‘and blamed her doings, and bade her beware, and said to her, ‘O my lady, have some care for thy life!’ But she was angered at my words and cried out at me; accordingly I left her and came forth in quest of thee, but found thee not and dared not go to the house of Ali bin Bakkar; so stood watching for thee, that I might ask thee of him and wot how it goes with him. And I pray thee, of thy favour, to take of me some money, for thou hast doubtless borrowed from thy friends part of the gear and as it is lost, it behoveth thee to make it good with folk.’ I replied, ‘To hear is to obey! go on;’ and I walked with her till we drew near my house, when she said to me, ‘Wait here till I come back to thee.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after the slave-girl had addressed the jeweller, “‘Wait here till I come back to thee!’ she went away and presently returned with the money, which she put” (continued the jeweller) “into my hand, saying, ‘O my master, in what place shall we meet?’ Quoth I, ‘I will start and go to my house at once and suffer hard things for thy sake and contrive how thou mayst win access to him, for such access is difficult at this present.’ Said she, ‘Let me know some spot, where I shall come to thee,’ and I answered, ‘In my other house, I will go thither forthright and have the doors mended and the place made safe again, and henceforth we will meet there.’ Then she took leave of me and went her way, whilst I carried the money home, and counting it, found it five thousand dinars. So I gave my people some of it and to all who had lent me aught I made good their loss, after which I arose and took my servants and repaired to my other house whence the things had been stolen; and I brought builders and carpenters and masons who restored it to its former state. Moreover, I placed my negress-slave there and forgot the mishaps which had befallen me. Then I fared forth and repaired to Ali bin Bakkar’s house and, when I reached it, his slave-servants accosted me, saying, ‘Our lord calleth for thee night and day, and hath promised to free whichever of us bringeth thee to him; so they have been wandering about in quest of thee everywhere but knew not in what part to find thee. Our master is by way of recovering strength, but at times he reviveth and at times he relapseth; and whenever he reviveth he nameth thee, and saith, ‘Needs must ye bring him to me, though but for the twinkling of an eye;’ and then he sinketh back into his torpor.’ Accordingly” (continued the jeweller) “I accompanied the slave and went in to Ali bin Bakkar; and, finding him unable to speak, sat down at his head, whereupon he opened his eyes and seeing me, wept and said, ‘Welcome and well come!’ I raised him and making him sit up, strained him to my bosom, and he said, ‘Know, O my brother, that, from the hour I took to my bed, I have not sat up till now: praise to Allah that I see thee again!’ And I ceased not to prop him and support him until I made him stand on his feet and walk a few steps, after which I changed his clothes and he drank some wine: but all this he did for my satisfaction. Then, seeing him somewhat restored, I told him what had befallen me with the slave-girl (none else hearing me), and said to him, ‘Take heart and be of good courage, I know what thou sufferest.’ He smiled and I added, ‘Verily nothing shall betide thee save what shall rejoice thee and medicine thee.’ Thereupon he called for food, which being brought, he signed to his pages, and they withdrew. Then quoth he to me, ‘O my brother, hast thou seen what hath befallen me?’; and he made excuses to me and asked how I had fared all that while. I told him everything that had befallen me, from beginning to end, whereat he wondered and calling his servants, said, ‘Bring me such and such things.’ They brought in fine carpets and hangings and, besides that, vessels of gold and silver, more than I had lost, and he gave them all to me; so I sent them to my house and abode with him that night. When the day began to yellow, he said to me, ‘Know thou that as to all things there is an end, so the end of love is either death or accomplishment of desire. I am nearer unto death, would I had died ere this befel!; and had not Allah favoured us, we had been found out and put to shame. And now I know not what shall deliver me from this my strait, and were it not that I fear Allah, I would hasten my own death; for know, O my brother, that I am like bird in cage and that my life is of a surety perished, choked by the distresses which have befallen me; yet hath it a period stablished firm and an appointed term.’ And he wept and groaned and began repeating,
‘Enough of tears hath shed the lover-wight,
When grief outcast all patience from his sprite:
He hid the secrets which united us,
But now His eye parts what He did unite!’”
When he had finished his verses, the jeweller said to him, “O my lord, I now intend returning to my house.” He answered, “There be no harm in that; go and come back to me with news as fast as possible, for thou seest my case.” “So I took leave of him” (continued the jeweller) “and went home, and hardly had I sat down, when up came the damsel, choked with long weeping. I asked, ‘What is the matter’?; and she answered, ‘O my lord, know then that what we feared hath befallen us; for, when I left thee yesterday and returned to my lady, I found her in a fury with one of the two maids who were with us the other night, and she ordered her to be beaten. The girl was frightened and ran away; but, as she was leaving the house, one of the door-porters and guards of the gate met her and took her up and would have sent her back to her mistress. However, she let fall some hints, which were a disclosure to him; so he cajoled her and led her on to talk, and she tattled about our case and let him know of all our doings. This affair came to the ears of the Caliph, who bade remove my mistress, Shams al-Nahar, and all her gear to the palace of the Caliphate; and set over her a guard of twenty eunuchs. Since then to the present hour he hath not visited her nor hath given her to know the reason of his action, but I suspect this to be the cause; wherefore I am in fear for my life and am sore troubled, O my lord, knowing not what I shall do, nor with what contrivance I shall order my affair and hers; for she hath none by her more trusted or more trustworthy than myself.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the slave-girl thus addressed the jeweller, “‘And in very sooth my lady hath none by her more trusted or more trustworthy in matter of secrecy than myself. So go thou, O my master, and speed thee without delay to Ali bin Bakkar; and acquaint him with this, that he may be on his guard and ward; and, if the affair be discovered, we will cast about for some means whereby to save our lives.’ On this” (continued the jeweller), “I was seized with sore trouble and the world grew dark in my sight for the slave-girl’s words; and when she was about to wend, I said to her, ‘What reckest thou and what is to be done?’ Quoth she, ‘My counsel is that thou hasten to Ali bin Bakkar, if thou be indeed his friend and desire to save him; thine be it to carry him this news at once without aught of stay and delay, or regard for far and near; and mine be it to sniff about for further news.’ Then she took her leave of me and went away: so I rose and followed her track and, betaking myself to Ali bin Bakkar, found him flattering himself with impossible expectations. When he saw me returning to him so soon, he said, ‘I see thou hast come back to me forthwith and only too soon.’ I answered, ‘Patience, and cut short this foolish connection and shake off the pre-occupation wherein thou art, for there hath befallen that which may bring about the loss of thy life and good.’ Now when he heard this, he was troubled and strongly moved; and he said to me, ‘O my brother, tell me what hath happened.’ Replied I, ‘O my lord, know that such and such things have happened and thou art lost without recourse, if thou abide in this thy house till the end of the day.’ At this, he was confounded and his soul well-nigh departed his body, but he recovered himself and said to me, ‘What shall I do, O my brother, and what counsel hast thou to offer.’ Answered I, ‘My advice is that thou take what thou canst of thy property and whom of thy slaves thou trustest, and flee with us to a land other than this, ere this very day come to an end.’ And he said, ‘I hear and I obey.’ So he rose, confused and dazed like one in epilepsy, now walking and now falling, and took what came under his hand. Then he made an excuse to his household and gave them his last injunctions, after which he loaded three camels and mounted his beast; and I did likewise. We went forth privily in disguise and fared on and ceased not our wayfare the rest of that day and all its night, till nigh upon morning, when we unloaded and, hobbling our camels, lay down to sleep. But we were worn with fatigue and we neglected to keep watch, so that there fell upon us robbers, who stripped us of all we had and slew our slaves, when these would have beaten them off, leaving us naked and in the sorriest of plights, after they had taken our money and lifted our beasts and disappeared. As soon as they were gone, we arose and walked on till morning dawned, when we came to a village which we entered, and finding a mosque took refuge therein for we were naked. So we sat in a corner all that day and we passed the next night without meat or drink; and at day-break we prayed our dawn-prayer and sat down again. Presently behold, a man entered and saluting us prayed a two-bow prayer, after which he turned to us and said, ‘O folk, are ye strangers?’ We replied, ‘Yes: the bandits waylaid us and stripped us naked, and we came to this town but know none here with whom we may shelter.’ Quoth he, ‘What say ye? will you come home with me?’ And” (pursued the jeweller) “I said to Ali bin Bakkar, ‘Up and let us go with him, and we shall escape two evils; the first, our fear lest some one who knoweth us enter this mosque and recognise us, so that we come to disgrace; and the second, that we are strangers and have no place wherein to lodge.’ And he answered helplessly, ‘As thou wilt.’ Then the man said to us again, ‘O ye poor folk, give ear unto me and come with me to my place,’ and I replied, ‘Hearkening and obedience;’ whereupon he pulled off a part of his own clothes and covered us therewith and made his excuses to us and spoke kindly to us. Then we arose and accompanied him to his house and he knocked at the door, whereupon a little slave-boy came out and opened to us. The host entered and we followed him;1 when he called for a bundle of clothes and muslins for turbands, and gave us each a suit and a piece; so we dressed and turbanded ourselves and sat us down. Presently, in came a damsel with a tray of food and set it before us, saying, ‘Eat.’ We ate some small matter and she took away the tray: after which we abode with our host till nightfall, when Ali bin Bakkar sighed and said to me, ‘Know, O my brother, that I am a dying man past hope of life and I would charge thee with a charge: it is that, when thou seest me dead, thou go to my parent2 and tell her of my decease and bid her come hither that she may be here to receive the visits of condolence and be present at the washing of my corpse, and do thou exhort her to bear my loss with patience.’ Then he fell down in a fainting fit and, when he recovered he heard a damsel singing afar off and making verses as she sang. Thereupon he addressed himself to give ear to her and hearken to her voice; and now he was insensible, absent from the world, and now he came to himself; and anon he wept for grief and mourning at the love which had befallen him. Presently, he heard the damsel who was singing repeat these couplets,
‘Parting ran up to part from lover-twain
Free converse, perfect concord, friendship fain:
The Nights with shifting drifted us apart,
Would heaven I wot if we shall meet again:
How bitter after meeting ’tis to part,
May lovers ne’er endure so bitter pain!
Death-grip, death-choke, lasts for an hour and ends,
But parting-tortures aye in heart remain:
Could we but trace where Parting’s house is placed,
We would make Parting eke of parting taste!’
When Ali son of Bakkar heard the damsel’s song, he sobbed one sob and his soul quitted his body. As soon as I saw that he was dead” (continued the jeweller), “I committed his corpse to the care of the house-master and said to him ‘Know thou, that I am going to Baghdad, to tell his mother and kinsfolk, that they may come hither and conduct his burial.’ So I betook myself to Baghdad and, going to my house, changed my clothes; after which I repaired to Ali bin Bakkar’s lodging. Now when his servants saw me, they came to me and questioned me of him, and I bade them ask permission for me to go in to his mother. She gave me leave; so I entered and saluting her, said, ‘Verily Allah ordereth the lives of all creatures by His commandment and when He decreeth aught, there is no escaping its fulfilment; nor can any soul depart but by leave of Allah, according to the Writ which affirmeth the appointed term.’3 She guessed by these words that her son was dead and wept with sore weeping, then she said to me, ‘Allah upon thee! tell me, is my son dead?’ I could not answer her for tears and excess of grief, and when she saw me thus, she was choked with weeping and fell to the ground in a fit. As soon as she came to herself she said to me, ‘Tell me how it was with my son.’ I replied, ‘May Allah abundantly compensate thee for his loss!’ and I told her all that had befallen him from beginning to end. She then asked, ‘Did he give thee any charge?’; and I answered, ‘Yes,’ and told her what he had said, adding, ‘Hasten to perform his funeral.’ When she heard these words, she swooned away again; and, when she recovered, she addressed herself to do as I charged her. Then I returned to my house; and as I went along musing sadly upon the fair gifts of his youth, behold, a woman caught hold of my hand;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This is the rule; to guard against the guet-apens.
2 Arab. “Wálidati,” used when speaking to one not of the family in lieu of the familiar “Ummi”=my mother. So the father is Wálid=the begetter.
3 This is one of the many euphemistic formulæ for such occasions: they usually begin “May thy head live.” etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the jeweller thus continued:—“A woman caught hold of my hand; and I looked at her and lo! it was the slave-girl who used to come from Shams al-Nahar, and she seemed broken by grief. When we knew each other we both wept and ceased not weeping till we reached my house, and I said to her, ‘Knowest thou the news of the youth, Ali bin Bakkar?’ She replied, ‘No, by Allah!’; so I told her the manner of his death and all that had passed, whilst we both wept; after which quoth I to her, ‘How is it with thy mistress?’ Quoth she, ‘The Commander of the Faithful would not hear a single word against her; but, for the great love he bore her, saw all her actions in a favourable light, and said to her, ‘O Shams al-Nahar, thou art dear to me and I will bear with thee and bring the noses of thy foes to the grindstone. Then he bade them furnish her an apartment decorated with gold and a handsome sleeping-chamber, and she abode with him in all ease of life and high favour. Now it came to pass that one day, as he sat at wine according to his custom, with his favourite concubines in presence, he bade them be seated in their several ranks and made Shams al-Nahar sit by his side. But her patience had failed and her disorder had redoubled upon her. Then he bade one of the damsels sing: so she took a lute and tuning it struck the chords, and began to sing these verses,
‘One craved my love and I gave all he craved of me,
And tears on cheek betray how ’twas I came to yield:
Tear-drops, meseemeth, are familiar with our case,
Revealing what I hide, hiding what I revealed:
How can I hope in secret to conceal my love,
Which stress of passion ever showeth unconcealed:
Death, since I lost my lover, is grown sweet to me;
Would I knew what their joys when I shall quit the field!
Now when Shams al-Nahar heard these verses sung by the slave-girl, she could not keep her seat; but fell down in a fainting-fit whereupon the Caliph cast the cup from his hand and drew her to him crying out; and the damsels also cried out, and the Prince of True Believers turned her over and shook her, and lo and behold! she was dead. The Caliph grieved over her death with sore grief and bade break all the vessels and dulcimers1 and other instruments of mirth and music which were in the room; then carrying her body to his closet, he abode with her the rest of the night. When the day broke, he laid her out and commanded to wash her and shroud her and bury her. And he mourned for her with sore mourning, and questioned not of her case nor of what caused her condition. And I beg thee in Allah’s name’ (continued the damsel) ‘to let me know the day of the coming of Ali bin Bakkar’s funeral procession that I may be present at his burial.’ Quoth I, ‘For myself, where thou wilt thou canst find me; but thou, where art thou to be found, and who can come at thee where thou art?’ She replied, ‘On the day of Shams al-Nahar’s death, the Commander of the Faithful freed all her women, myself among the rest;2 and I am one of those now abiding at the tomb in such a place.’ So I rose and accompanied her to the burial-ground and piously visited Shams al-Nahar’s tomb; after which I went my way and ceased not to await the coming of Ali bin Bakkar’s funeral. When it arrived, the people of Baghdad went forth to meet it and I went forth with them: and I saw the damsel among the women and she the loudest of them in lamentation, crying out and wailing with a voice that rent the vitals and made the heart ache. Never was seen in Baghdad a finer funeral than his; and we ceased not to follow in crowds till we reached the cemetery and buried him to the mercy of Almighty Allah; nor from that time to this have I ceased to visit the tombs of Ali son of Bakkar and of Shams al-Nahar. This, then, is their story, and Allah Almighty have mercy upon them!”3 And yet is not their tale (continued Shahrazad) more wonderful than that of King Shahriman. The King asked her “And what was his tale?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kánún,” an instrument not unlike the Austrian zither; it is illustrated in Lane (ii. 77).
2 This is often done, the merit of the act being transferred to the soul of the deceased.
3 The two amourists were martyrs; and their amours, which appear exaggerated to the Western mind, have many parallels in the East. The story is a hopeless affair of love; with only one moral (if any be wanted) viz., there may be too much of a good thing. It is given very concisely in the Bul. Edit. vol. i.; and more fully in the Mac. Edit. aided in places by the Bresl. (ii. 320) and the Calc. (ii. 230).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, as regards the
That there was in times of yore and in ages long gone before a King called Shahrimán,1 who was lord of many troops and guards, and officers, and who reigned over certain islands, known as the Khálidán Islands,2 on the borders of the land of the Persians. But he was stricken in years and his bones were wasted, without having been blessed with a son, albeit he had four wives, daughters of Kings, and threescore concubines, with each of whom he was wont to lie one night in turn.3 This preyed upon his mind and disquieted him, so that he complained thereof to one of his Wazirs, saying, “Verily I fear lest my kingdom be lost when I die, for that I have no son to succeed me.” The Minister answered, “O King, peradventure Allah shall yet bring something to pass; so rely upon the Almighty and be instant in prayer. It is also my counsel that thou spread a banquet and invite to it the poor and needy, and let them eat of thy food; and supplicate the Lord to vouchsafe thee a son; for perchance there may be among thy guests a righteous soul whose prayers find acceptance; and thereby thou shalt win thy wish.” So the King rose, made the lesser ablution, and prayed a two-bow prayer,4 then he cried upon Allah with pure intention; after which he called his chief wife to bed and lay with her forthright. By grace of God she conceived and, when her months were accomplished, she bore a male child, like the moon on the night of fulness. The King named him Kamar al-Zamán,5 and rejoiced in him with extreme joy and bade the city be dressed out in his honour; so they decorated the streets seven days, whilst the drums beat and the messengers bore the glad tidings abroad. Then wet and dry nurses were provided for the boy and he was reared in splendour and delight, until he reached the age of fifteen. He grew up of surpassing beauty and seemlihead and symmetry, and his father loved him so dear that he could not brook to be parted from him day or night. One day he complained to a certain of his Ministers anent the excess of his love for his only child, saying, “O thou the Wazir, of a truth I fear for my son, Kamar al-Zaman, the shifts and accidents which befal man and fain would I marry him in my life-time.” Answered the Wazir, “O King, know thou that marriage is one of the most honourable of moral actions, and thou wouldst indeed do well and right to marry thy son in thy lifetime, ere thou make him Sultan.” On this quoth the King, “Hither with my son Kamar al-Zaman;” so he came and bowed his head to the ground in modesty before his sire. “O Kamar al Zaman,” said King Shahriman, “of a truth I desire to marry thee and rejoice in thee during my lifetime.” Replied he, “O my father, know that I have no lust to marry nor cloth my soul incline to women; for that concerning their craft and perfidy I have read many books and heard much talk, even as saith the poet,
‘Now, an of women ask ye, I reply:—
In their affairs I’m versed a doctor rare!
When man’s head grizzles and his money dwindles,
In their affections he hath naught for share.’
And another said:—
‘Rebel against women and so shalt thou serve Allah the more;
The youth who gives women the rein must forfeit all hope to soar.
They’ll baulk him when seeking the strange device, Excelsior,
Tho’ waste he a thousand of years in the study of science and lore.’ ”
And when he had ended his verses he continued, “O my father, wedlock is a thing whereto I will never consent; no, not though I drink the cup of death.” When Sultan Shahriman heard these words from his son, light became darkness in his sight and he grieved thereat with great grief. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane is in error (vol. ii. 78) when he corrects this to “Sháh Zemán”; the name is fanciful and intended to be old Persian, on the “weight” of Kahramán. The Bul. Edit. has by misprint “Shahramán.”
2 The “topothesia” is worthy of Shakespeare’s day. “Khálidán” is evidently a corruption of “Khálidatáni” (for Khálidát), the Eternal, as Ibn Wardi calls the Fortunate Islands, or Canaries, which owe both their modern names to the classics of Europe. Their present history dates from A.D. 1385, unless we accept the Dieppe–Rouen legend of Labat which would place the discovery in A.D. 1326. I for one thoroughly believe in the priority on the West African Coast, of the gallant descendants of the Northmen.
3 Four wives are allowed by Moslem law and for this reason. If you marry one wife she holds herself your equal, answers you and “gives herself airs”; two are always quarrelling and making a hell of the house; three are “no company” and two of them always combine against the nicest to make her hours bitter. Four are company, they can quarrel and “make it up” amongst themselves, and the husband enjoys comparative peace. But the Moslem is bound by his law to deal equally with the four, each must have her dresses her establishment and her night, like her sister wives. The number is taken from the Jews (Arbah Turim Ev. Hazaer, i.) “the wise men have given good advice that a man should not marry more than four wives.” Europeans, knowing that Moslem women are cloistered and appear veiled in public, begin with believing them to be mere articles of luxury, and only after long residence they find out that nowhere has the sex so much real liberty and power as in the Moslem East. They can possess property and will it away without the husband’s leave: they can absent themselves from the house for a month without his having a right to complain; and they assist in all his counsels for the best of reasons: a man can rely only on his wives and children, being surrounded by rivals who hope to rise by his ruin. As regards political matters the Circassian women of Constantinople really rule the Sultanate and there soignez la femme! is the first lesson of getting on in the official world.
4 This two-bow prayer is common on the bride-night; and at all times when issue is desired.
5 The older Camaralzaman=“Moon of the age.” Kamar is the moon between her third and twenty-sixth day: Hilál during the rest of the month: Badr (plur. Budúr whence the name of the Princess) is the full moon.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Shahriman heard these words from his son, the light became darkness in his sight and he grieved over his son’s lack of obedience to his directions in the matter of marriage; yet, for the great love he bore him, he was unwilling to repeat his wishes and was not wroth with him, but caressed him and spake him fair and showed him all manner of kindness such as tendeth to induce affection. All this, and Kamar al-Zaman increased daily in beauty and loveliness and amorous grace; and the King bore with him for a whole year till he became perfect in eloquence and elegant wit. All men were ravished with his charms; and every breeze that blew bore the tidings of his gracious favour; his fair sight was a seduction to the loving and a garden of delight to the longing, for he was honey-sweet of speech and the sheen of his face shamed the full moon; he was a model of symmetry and blandishment and engaging ways; his shape was as the willow-wand or the rattan-cane and his cheeks might take the place of rose or red anemone. He was, in fine the pink of perfection, even as the poet hath said of him,
“He came and cried they, ‘Now be Allah blest!
Praise Him that clad that soul in so fair vest!’
He’s King of Beauty where the beauteous be;
All are his Ryots,1 all obey his hest:
His lip-dew’s sweeter than the virgin honey;
His teeth are pearls in double row close press:
All charms are congregate in him alone,
And deals his loveliness to man unrest.
Beauty wrote on those cheeks for worlds to see
‘I testify there is none good but He.’”2
When the year came to an end, the King called his son to him and said, “O my son, wilt thou not hearken to me?” Whereupon Kamar al-Zaman fell down for respect and shame before his sire and replied, “O my father, how should I not hearken to thee, seeing that Allah commandeth me to obey thee and not gain-say thee?” Rejoined King Shahriman, “O my son, know that I desire to marry thee and rejoice in thee whilst yet I live, and make thee King over my realm, before my death.” When the Prince heard his sire pronounce these words he bowed his head awhile, then raised it and said, “O my father, this is a thing which I will never do; no, not though I drink the cup of death! I know of a surety that the Almighty hath made obedience to thee a duty in religion; but, Allah upon thee! press me not in this matter of marriage, nor fancy that I will ever marry my life long; for that I have read the books both of the ancients and the moderns, and have come to know all the mischiefs and miseries which have befallen them through women and their endless artifices. And how excellent is the saying of the poet,
‘He whom the randy motts entrap
Shall never see deliverance!
Though build he forts a thousand-fold,
Whose mighty strength lead-plates enhance,3
Their force shall be of no avail;
These fortresses have not a chance!
Women aye deal in treachery
To far and near o’er earth’s expanse
With fingers dipt in Henna-blood
And locks in braids that mad the glance;
And eyelids painted o’er with Kohl
They gar us drink of dire mischance.’
And how excellently saith another,
‘Women, for all the chastity they claim,
Are offal cast by kites where’er they list:
This night their talk and secret charms are thine,
That night another joyeth calf and wrist:
Like inn, whence after night thou far’st at dawn,
And lodges other wight thou hast not wist.’”4
Now when King Shahriman heard these his son’s words and learnt the import of his verses and poetical quotations, he made no answer, of his excessive love for him, but redoubled in graciousness and kindness to him. He at once broke up the audience and, as soon as the seance was over, he summoned his Minister and taking him apart, said to him, “O thou the Wazir! tell me how I shall deal with my son in the matter of marriage.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted stay.
1 Arab “Ra’áyá” plur. of ‘Ra’íyat” our Anglo–Indian Ryot, lit. a liege, a subject; secondarily a peasant, a Fellah.
2 Another audacious parody of the Moslem “testification” to the one God, and to Mohammed the Apostle.
3 Showing how long ago forts were armed with metal plates which we have applied to war-ships only of late years.
4 The comparison is abominably true — in the East.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King summoned his Minister; and, taking him apart, said to him, “O thou the Wazir, tell me what I shall do with my son in the matter of marriage. Of a truth I took counsel with thee thereon and thou didst counsel me to marry him, before making him King. I have spoken with him of wedlock time after time and he still gainsaid me; so do thou, O Wazir, forthright advise me what to do.” Answered the Minister, “O King, wait another year and, if after that thou be minded to speak to him on the matter of marriage, speak not to him privily, but address him on a day of state, when all the Emirs and Wazirs are present with the whole of the army standing before thee. And when all are in crowd then send for thy son, Kamar al-Zaman, and summon him; and, when he cometh, broach to him the matter of marriage before the Wazirs and Grandees and Officers of state and Captains; for he will surely be bashful and daunted by their presence and will not dare to oppose thy will.” Now when King Shahriman heard his Wazir’s words, he rejoiced with exceeding joy, seeing success in the project, and bestowed on him a splendid robe of honour. Then he took patience with his son another year, whilst, with every day that passed over him, Kamar al-Zaman increased in beauty and loveliness, and elegance and perfect grace, till he was nigh twenty years old. Indeed Allah had clad him in the cloak of comeliness and had crowned him with the crown of completion: his eye-glance was more bewitching than Hárút and Marút1 and the play of his luring looks more misleading than Tághút;2 and his cheeks shone like the dawn rosy-red and his eyelashes stormed the keen-edged blade: the whiteness of his brow resembled the moon shining bright, and the blackness of his locks was as the murky night; and his waist was more slender than the gossamer3 and his back parts than two sand heaps bulkier, making a Babel of the heart with their softness; but his waist complained of the weight of his hips and loins; and his charms ravished all mankind, even as one of the poets saith in these couplets,
“By his eyelash tendril curled, by his slender waist I swear,
By the dart his witchery feathers, fatal hurtling through the air;
By the just roundness of his shape, by his glances bright and keen
By the swart limping of his locks, and his fair forehead shining sheen;
By his eyebrows which deny that she who looks on them should sleep,
Which now commanding, now forbidding, o’er me high dominion keep;
By the roses of his cheek, his face as fresh as myrtle wreath
His tulip lips, and those pure pearls that hold the places of his teeth;
By his noble form, which rises featly turned in even swell
To where upon his jutting chest two young pomegranates seem to dwell
By his supple moving hips, his taper waist, the silky skin,
By all he robbed Perfection of, and holds enchained his form within;
By his tongue of steadfastness, his nature true, and excellent,
By the greatness of his rank, his noble birth, and high descent,
Musk from my love her savour steals, who musk exhales from every limb
And all the airs ambergris breathes are but the Zephyr’s blow o’er him.
The sun, methinks, the broad bright sun, as low before my love should quail
As would my love himself transcend the paltry paring of his nail!”4
So King Shahriman, having accepted the counsel of his Wazir, waited for another year and a great festival — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Two fallen angels who taught men the art of magic. They are mentioned in the Koran (chaps. ii.), and the commentators have extensively embroidered the simple text. Popularly they are supposed to be hanging by their feet in a well in the territory of Babel, hence the frequent allusions to “Babylonian sorcery” in Moslem writings; and those who would study the black art at head-quarters are supposed to go there. They are counterparts of the Egyptian Jamnes and Mambres, the Jannes and Jambres of St. Paul (2 Tim. iii. 8).
2 An idol or idols of the Arabs (Allat and Ozza) before Mohammed (Koran chaps. ii. 256). Etymologically the word means “error” and the termination is rather Hebraic than Arabic.
3 Arab. “Khayt hamayán” (wandering threads of vanity), or Mukhát al-Shaytan (Satan’s snivel),=our “gossamer”=God’s summer (Mutter Gottes Sommer) or God’s cymar (?).
4 These lines occur in Night xvii.; so I borrow from Torrens (p. 163) by way of variety.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shahriman having accepted the counsel of his Wazir, waited for another year and a great festival, a day of state when the audience hall was filled with his Emirs and Wazirs and Grandees of his reign and Officers of State and Captains of might and main. Thereupon he sent for his son Kamar al-Zaman who came, and kissing the ground before him three times, stood in presence of his sire with his hands behind his back the right grasping the left.1 Then said the King to him, “Know O my son, that I have not sent for thee on this occasion and summoned thee to appear before this assembly and all these officers of estate here awaiting our orders save and except that I may lay a commandment on thee, wherein do thou not disobey me; and my commandment is that thou marry, for I am minded to wed thee to a King’s daughter and rejoice in thee ere I die.” When the Prince heard this much from his royal sire, he bowed his head groundwards awhile, then raising it towards his father and being moved thereto at that time by youthful folly and boyish ignorance, replied, “But for myself I will never marry; no, not though I drink the cup of death! As for thee, thou art great in age and small of wit: hast thou not, twice ere this day and before this occasion, questioned me of the matter of marriage and I refused my consent? Indeed thou dotest and are not fit to govern a flock of sheep!” So saying Kamar al-Zaman unclasped his hands from behind his back and tucked up his sleeves above his elbows before his father, being in a fit of fury; moreover, he added many words to his sire, knowing not what he said in the trouble of his spirits. The King was confounded and ashamed, for that this befel in the presence of his grandees and soldier-officers assembled on a high festival and a state occasion; but presently the majesty of Kingship took him, and he cried out at his son and made him tremble. Then he called to the guards standing before him and said, “Seize him!’ So they came forward and laid hands on him and, binding him, brought him before his sire, who bade them pinion his elbows behind his back and in this guise make him stand before the presence. And the Prince bowed down his head for fear and apprehension, and his brow and face were beaded and spangled with sweat; and shame and confusion troubled him sorely. Thereupon his father abused him and reviled him and cried, “Woe to thee, thou son of adultery and nursling of abomination!2 How durst thou answer me on this wise before my captains and soldiers? But hitherto none hath chastised thee,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Shahriman cried out to his son Kamar al-Zaman, “How durst thou answer me on this wise before my captains and soldiers? But hitherto none hath chastised thee. Knowest thou not that this deed thou hast done were a disgrace to him had it been done by the meanest of my subjects?” And the King commanded his Mamelukes to loose his elbow bonds and imprison him in one of the bastions of the citadel. So they took the Prince and thrust him into an old tower, wherein there was a dilapidated saloon and in its middle a ruined well, after having first swept it and cleansed its floor-flags and set therein a couch on which they laid a mattress, a leathern rug and a cushion; and then they brought a great lanthorn and a wax candle, for that place was dark, even by day. And lastly the Mamelukes led Kamar al-Zaman thither, and stationed an eunuch at the door. And when all this was done, the Prince threw himself on the couch, sad-spirited, and heavy-hearted; blaming himself and repenting of his injurious conduct to his father, whenas repentance availed him naught, and saying, “Allah curse marriage and marriageable and married women, the traitresses all! Would I had hearkened to my father and accepted a wife! Had I so done it had been better for me than this jail.” This is how it fared with him; but as regards King Shahri man, he remained seated on his throne all through the day until sundown; then he took the Minister apart and said to him “Know thou, O Wazir, that thou and thou only west the cause of all this that hath come to pass between me and my son by the advice thou west pleased to devise; and so what dost thou counsel me to do now?” Answered he, “O King, leave thy son in limbo for the space of fifteen days: then summon him to thy presence and bid him wed; and assuredly he shall not gainsay thee again.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir, said to King Shahriman, “Leave thy son in limbo for the space of fifteen days; then summon him to thy presence and bid him wed; and assuredly he shall not gainsay thee again.” The King accepted the Wazir’s opinion and lay down to sleep that night troubled at heart concerning his son; for he loved him with dearest love because he had no other child but this; and it was his wont every night not to sleep, save after placing his arm under his son’s neck. So he passed that night in trouble and unease on the Prince ‘s account, tossing from side to side, as he were laid on coals of Artemisia-wood1: for he was overcome with doubts and fears and sleep visited him not all that livelong night; but his eyes ran over with tears and he began repeating,;
“While slanderers slumber, longsome is my night;
Suffice thee a heart so sad in parting-plight;
I say, while night in care slow moments by,
‘What! no return for thee, fair morning light?’”
And the saying of another,
“When saw I Pleiad-stars his glance escape
And Pole star draught of sleep upon him pour;
And the Bier-daughters2 wend in mourning dight,
I knew that morning was for him no more!”
Such was the case with King Shahriman; but as regards Kamar al- Zaman, when the night came upon him the eunuch set the lanthorn before him and lighting the wax-candle, placed it in the candlestick; then brought him somewhat of food. The Prince ate a little and continually reproached himself for his unseemly treatment of his father, saying to himself, “O my soul, knowest thou not that a son of Adam is the hostage of his tongue, and that a man’s tongue is what casteth him into deadly perils?” Then his eyes ran over with tears and he bewailed that which he had done, from anguished vitals and aching heart, repenting him with exceeding repentance of the wrong wherewith he had wronged his father and repeating,
“Fair youth shall die by stumbling of the tongue:
Stumble of foot works not man’s life such wrong:
The slip of lip shall oft smite off the head,
While slip of foot shall never harm one long.”
Now when he had made an end of eating, he asked for the wherewithal to wash his hands and when the Mameluke had washed them clean of the remnants of food, he arose and made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed the prayers of sundown and nightfall, conjoining them in one; after which he sat down. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ghazá,” the Artemisia (Euphorbia?) before noticed. If the word be a misprint for Ghadá it means a kind of Euphorbia which, with the Arák (wild caper-tree) and the Daum palm (Crucifera thebiaca), is one of the three normal growths of the Arabian desert (Pilgrimage iii. 22).
2 Arab. “Banát al-Na’ash,” usually translated daughters of the bier, the three stars which represent the horses in either Bear, “Charles’ Wain,” or Ursa Minor, the waggon being supposed to be a bier. “Banát” may be also sons, plur. of Ibn, as the word points to irrational objects. So Job (ix. 9 and xxxviii. 32) refers to U. Major as “Ash” or “Aysh” in the words, “Canst thou guide the bier with its sons?” (erroneously rendered “Arcturus with his sons”) In the text the lines are enigmatical, but apparently refer to a death parting.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Prince Kamar al-Zaman had prayed (conjoining them in one) the prayers of sundown and nightfall, he sat down on the well and began reciting the Koran, and he repeated “The Cow,” the “House of Imrán,” and “Y. S.;” “The Compassionate,” “Blessed be the King,” “Unity” and “The two Talismans’’1; and he ended with blessing and supplication and with saying, “I seek refuge with Allah from Satan the stoned.”2 Then he lay down upon his couch which was covered with a mattress of satin from al-Ma’adin town, the same on both sides and stuffed with the raw silk of Irak; and under his head was a pillow filled with ostrich-down And when ready for sleep, he doffed his outer clothes and drew off his bag-trousers and lay down in a shirt of delicate stuff smooth as wax; and he donned a head-kerchief of azure Marázi3 cloth; and at such time and on this guise Kamar al-Zaman was like the full-orbed moon, when it riseth on its fourteenth night. Then, drawing over his head a coverlet of silk, he fell asleep with the lanthorn burning at his feet and the wax-candle over his head, and he ceased not sleeping through the first third of the night, not knowing what lurked for him in the womb of the Future, and what the Omniscient had decreed for him. Now, as Fate and Fortune would have it, both tower and saloon were old and had been many years deserted; and there was therein a Roman well inhabited by a Jinniyah of the seed of Iblis4 the Accursed, by name Maymúnah, daughter of Al-Dimiryát, a renowned King of the Jánn. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Chapters are: 2, 3, 36, 55, 67 and the two last (“Daybreak” cxiii. and “Men” cxiv.), which are called Al–Mu’izzatáni (vulgar Al–Mu’izzatayn), the “Two Refuge-takings or Preventives,” because they obviate enchantment. I have translated the two latter as follows:—
“Say:— Refuge I take with the Lord of the Day-break
from mischief of what He did make
from mischief of moon eclipse-showing
and from mischief of witches on cord-knots blowing
and from mischief of envier when envying.”
“Say:— Refuge I take with the Lord of men
the sovran of men
the God of men
from the Tempter, the Demon
who tempteth in whisper the breasts of men
and from Jinnis and (evil) men.”
2 The recitations were Náfilah, or superogatory, two short chapters only being required and the taking refuge was because he slept in a ruin, a noted place in the East for Ghuls as in the West for ghosts.
3 Lane (ii. 222) first read “Múroozee” and referred it to the Murúz tribe near Herat he afterwards (iii. 748) corrected it to “Marwazee,” of the fabric of Marw (Margiana) the place now famed for “Mervousness.” As a man of Rayy (Rhages) becomes Rází (e.g. Ibn Fáris al-Razí), so a man of Marw is Marázi, not Murúzi nor Márwazi. The “Mikna’ “ was a veil forming a kind of “respirator,” defending from flies by day and from mosquitos, dews and draughts by night. Easterns are too sensible to sleep with bodies kept warm by bedding, and heads bared to catch every blast. Our grandfathers and grandmothers did well to wear bonnets-de-nuit, however ridiculous they may have looked.
4 Iblis, meaning the Despairer, is called in the Koran (chaps. xviii. 48) “One of the genii (Jinnis) who departed from the command of his Lord.” Mr. Rodwell (in loco) notes that the Satans and Jinnis represent in the Koran (ii. 32, etc.) the evil-principle and finds an admixture of the Semitic Satans and demons with the “Genii from the Persian (Babylonian?) and Indian (Egyptian?) mythologies.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the name of the Jinniyah in question was Maymunah, daughter of Al–Dimiryat; a renowned King of the Jann. And as Kamar al-Zaman continued sleeping till the first third of the night, Maymunah came up out of the Roman well and made for the firmament, thinking to listen by stealth to the converse of the angels; but when she reached the mouth of the well, she saw a light shining in the tower, contrary to custom; and having dwelt there many years without seeing the like, she said to herself, “Never have I witnessed aught like this”; and, marvelling much at the matter, determined that there must be some cause therefor. So she made for the light and found the eunuch sleeping within the door; and inside she saw a couch spread, whereon was a human form with the wax-candle burning at his head and the lanthorn at his feet, and she wondered to see the light and stole towards it little by little. Then she folded her wings and stood by the bed and, drawing back the coverlid, discovered Kamar al-Zaman’s face. She was motionless for a full hour in admiration and wonderment; for the lustre of his visage outshone that of the candle; his face beamed like a pearl with light; his eyelids were languorous like those of the gazelle; the pupils of his eyes were intensely black and brilliant1; his cheeks were rosy red; his eye-brows were arched like bows and his breath exhaled a scent of musk, even as saith of him the poet,
“I kissed him: darker grew those pupils,2 which
Seduce my soul, and cheeks flushed rosier hue;
O heart, if slanderers dare to deem there be
His like in chasms, Say ‘Bring him hither, you!’ ”
Now when Maymunah saw him, she pronounced the formula of praise,3 and said, “Blessed be Allah, the best of Creators!”; for she was of the true-believing Jinn; and she stood awhile gazing on his face, exclaiming and envying the youth his beauty and loveliness. And she said in herself, “By Allah! I will do no hurt to him nor let any harm him; nay, from all of evil will I ransom him, for this fair face deserveth not but that folk should gaze upon it and for it praise the Lord. Yet how could his family find it in their hearts to leave him in such desert place where, if one of our Márids came upon him at this hour, he would assuredly slay him.” Then the Ifritah Maymunah bent over him and kissed him between the eyes, and presently drew back the sheet over his face which she covered up; and after this she spread her wings and soaring into the air, flew upwards. And after rising high from the circle of the saloon she ceased not winging her way through air and ascending skywards till she drew near the heaven of this world, the lowest of the heavens. And behold, she heard the noisy flapping of wings cleaving the welkin and, directing herself by the sound, she found when she drew near it that the noise came from an Ifrit called Dahnash. So she swooped down on him like a sparrow-hawk and, when he was aware of her and knew her to be Maymunah, the daughter of the King of the Jinn, he feared her and his side-muscles quivered; and he implored her forbearance, saying, I conjure thee by the Most Great and August Name and by the most noble talisman graven upon the seal-ring of Solomon, entreat me kindly and harm me not!” When she heard these words her heart inclined to him and she said, “Verily, thou conjurest me, O accursed, with a mighty conjuration. Nevertheless, I will not let thee go, till thou tell me whence thou comest at this hour.” He replied, “O Princess, Know that I come from the uttermost end of China-land and from among the Islands, and I will tell thee of a wonderful thing I have seen this night. If thou kind my words true, let me wend my way and write me a patent under thy hand and with thy sign manual that I am thy freedman, so none of the Jinn-hosts, whether of the upper who fly or of the lower who walk the earth or of those who dive beneath the waters, do me let or hindrance.” Rejoined Maymunah, “And what is it thou hast seen this night, O liar, O accursed! Tell me without leasing and think not to escape from my hand with falses, for I swear to thee by the letters graven upon the bezel of the seal-ring of Solomon David son (on both of whom be peace!), except thy speech be true, I will pluck out thy feathers with mine own hand and strip off thy skin and break thy bones!” Quoth the Ifrit Dahnash son of Shamhúrish4 the Flyer, “I accept, O my lady, these conditions.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Of course she could not see his eyes when they were shut; nor is this mere Eastern inconsequence. The writer means, “had she seen them, they would have showed,” etc.
2 The eyes are supposed to grow darker under the influence of wine and sexual passion.
3 To keep off the evil eye.
4 Like Dahnash this is a fanciful P. N., fit only for a Jinni. As a rule the appellatives of Moslem “genii” end in–ús (oos), as Tarnús, Huliyánus, the Jewish in — nas, as Jattunas; those of the Tarsá (the “funkers” i.e. Christians) in — dús, as Sidús, and the Hindus in — tús, as Naktús (who entered the service of the Prophet Shays, or Seth, and was converted to the Faith). The King of the Genii is Malik Katshán who inhabits Mount Kaf; and to the west of him lives his son-in-law, Abd al-Rahman with 33,000 domestics: these names were given by the Apostle Mohammed. “Baktanús” is lord of three Moslem troops of the wandering Jinns, which number a total of twelve bands and extend from Sind to Europe. The Jinns, Divs, Peris (“fairies”) and other pre-Adamitic creatures were governed by seventy-two Sultans all known as Sulayman and the last I have said was Ján bin Ján. The angel Háris was sent from Heaven to chastise him, but in the pride of victory he also revolted with his followers the Jinns whilst the Peris held aloof. When he refused to bow down before Adam he and his chiefs were eternally imprisoned but the other Jinns are allowed to range over earth as a security for man’s obedience. The text gives the three orders. flyers. walkers and divers.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Dahnash spoke thus to Maymunah, “I accept, O my lady, these conditions.” Then he resumed, “Know, O my mistress, that I come to-night from the Islands of the Inland Sea in the parts of China, which are the realms of King Ghayúr, lord of the Islands and the Seas and the Seven Palaces. There I saw a daughter of his, than whom Allah hath made none fairer in her time: I cannot picture her to thee, for my tongue would fail to describe her with her due of praise; but I will name to thee a somewhat of her charms by way of approach. Now her hair is like the nights of disunion and separation and her face like the days of union and delectation; and right well hath the poet said when picturing her,
‘She dispread the locks from her head one night,
Showing four fold nights into one night run
And she turned her visage towards the moon,
And two moons showed at moment one.’
She hath a nose like the edge of the burnished blade and cheeks like purple wine or anemones blood-red: her lips as coral and carnelian shine and the water of her mouth is sweeter than old wine; its taste would quench Hell’s fiery pain. Her tongue is moved by wit of high degree and ready repartee: her breast is a seduction to all that see it (glory be to Him who fashioned it and finished it!); and joined thereto are two upper arms smooth and rounded; even as saith of her the poet Al–Walahán,1
‘She hath wrists which, did her bangles not contain,
Would run from out her sleeves in silvern rain.’
She hath breasts like two globes of ivory, from whose brightness the moons borrow light, and a stomach with little waves as it were a figured cloth of the finest Egyptian linen made by the Copts, with creases like folded scrolls, ending in a waist slender past all power of imagination; based upon back parts like a hillock of blown sand, that force her to sit when she would fief stand, and awaken her, when she fain would sleep, even as saith of her and describeth her the poet,
‘She hath those hips conjoined by thread of waist,
Hips that o’er me and her too tyrannise
My thoughts they daze whene’er I think of them,
And weigh her down whene’er she would uprise.’2
And those back parts are upborne by thighs smooth and round and by a calf like a column of pearl, and all this reposeth upon two feet, narrow, slender and pointed like spear-blades,3 the handiwork of the Protector and Requiter, I wonder how, of their littleness, they can sustain what is above them. But I cut short my praises of her charms fearing lest I be tedious.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. distracted (with love); the Lakab, or poetical name, of apparently a Spanish poet.
2 Nothing is more “anti-pathetic” to Easterns than lean hips and flat hinder-cheeks in women and they are right in insisting upon the characteristic difference of the male and female figure. Our modern sculptors and painters, whose study of the nude is usually most perfunctory, have often scandalised me by the lank and greyhound-like fining off of the frame, which thus becomes rather simian than human.
3 The small fine foot is a favourite with Easterns as well as Westerns. Ovid (A.A.) is not ashamed “ad teneros Oscula (not basia or suavia) ferre pedes.” Ariosto ends the august person in
Il breve, asciutto, e ritondetto piece,
(The short-sized, clean-cut, roundly-moulded foot).
And all the world over it is a sign of “blood,” i.e. the fine nervous temperament.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifrit Dahnash bin Shamhurish said to the Ifritah Maymunah, “Of a truth I cut short my praises fearing lest I be tedious.” Now when Maymunah heard the description of that Princess and her beauty and loveliness, she stood silent in astonishment; whereupon Dahnash resumed, “The father of this fair maiden is a mighty King, a fierce knight, immersed night and day in fray and fight; for whom death hath no fright and the escape of his foe no dread, for that he is a tyrant masterful and a conqueror irresistible, lord of troops and armies and continents and islands, and cities and villages, and his name is King Ghayur, Lord of the Islands and of the Seas and of the Seven Palaces. Now he loveth his daughter, the young maiden whom I have described to thee, with dearest love and, for affection of her, he hath heaped together the treasures of all the kings and built her therewith seven palaces, each of a different fashion; the first of crystal, the second of marble, the third of China steel, the fourth of precious stones and gems of price, the fifth of porcelain and many-hued onyxes and ring bezels, the sixth of silver and the seventh of gold. And he hath filled the seven palaces with all sorts of sumptuous furniture, rich silken carpets and hangings and vessels of gold and silver and all manner of gear that kings require; and hath bidden his daughter to abide in each by turns for a certain season of the year; and her name is the Princess Budur.1 Now when her beauty became known and her name and fame were bruited abroad in the neighbouring countries, all the kings sent to her father to demand her of him in marriage, and he consulted her on the matter, but she disliked the very word wedlock with a manner of abhorrence and said, O my father, I have no mind to marry; no, not at all; for I am a sovereign Lady and a Queen suzerain ruling over men, and I have no desire for a man who shall rule over me. And the more suits she refused, the more her suitors’ eagerness increased and all the Royalties of the Inner Islands of China sent presents and rarities to her father with letters asking her in marriage. So he pressed her again and again with advice on the matter of espousals; but she ever opposed to him refusals, till at last she turned upon him angrily and cried, ‘O my father, if thou name matrimony to me once more, I will go into my chamber and take a sword and, fixing its hilt in the ground, will set its point to my waist; then will I press upon it, till it come forth from my back, and so slay myself.’ Now when the King heard these her words, the light became darkness in his sight and his heart burned for her as with a flame of fire, because he feared lest she should kill herself; and he was filled with perplexity concerning her affair and the kings her suitors. So he said to her ‘If thou be determined not to marry and there be no help for it abstain from going and coming in and out.’ Then he placed her in a house and shut her up in a chamber, appointing ten old women as duennas to guard her, and forbade her to go forth to the Seven Palaces; moreover, he made it appear that he was incensed against her, and sent letters to all the kings, giving them to know that she had been stricken with madness by the Jinns; and it is now a year since she hath thus been secluded.” Then continued the Ifrit Dahnash, addressing the Ifritah Maymunah, “And I, O my lady go to her every night and take my fill of feeding my sight on her face and I kiss her between the eyes: yet, of my love to her, I do her no hurt neither mount her, for that her youth is fair and her grace surpassing: every one who seeth her jealouseth himself for her. I conjure thee, therefore, O my lady, to go back with me and look on her beauty and loveliness and stature and perfection of proportion; and after, if thou wilt, chastise me or enslave me; and win to thy will, for it is thine to bid and to forbid.” So saying, the Ifrit Dahnash bowed his head towards the earth and drooped his wings downward; but Maymunah laughed at his words and spat in his face and answered, “What is this girl of whom thou pratest but a potsherd wherewith to wipe after making water?2 Faugh! Faugh! By Allah, O accursed, I thought thou hadst some wondrous tale to tell me or some marvellous news to give me. How would it be if thou were to sight my beloved? Verily, this night I have seen a young man, whom if thou saw though but in a dream, thou wouldst be palsied with admiration and spittle would flow from thy mouth.” Asked the Ifrit, “And who and what is this youth?”; and she answered, “Know, O Dahnash, that there hath befallen the young man the like of what thou tellest me befel thy mistress; for his father pressed him again and again to marry, but he refused, till at length his sire waxed wroth at being opposed and imprisoned him in the tower where I dwell: and I came up to-night and saw him.” Said Dahnash, “O my lady, shew me this youth, that I may see if he be indeed handsomer than my mistress, the Princess Budur, or not; for I cannot believe that the like of her liveth in this our age.” Rejoined Maymunah, “Thou liest, O accursed, O most ill-omened of Marids and vilest of Satans!3 Sure am I that the like of my beloved is not in this world.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. “full moons”: the French have corrupted it to “Badoure”; we to “Badoura.” winch is worse.
2 As has been said a single drop of urine renders the clothes ceremoniously impure, hence a Stone or a handful of earth must be used after the manner of the torche-cul. Scrupulous Moslems, when squatting to make water, will prod the ground before them with the point o f stick or umbrella, so as to loosen it and prevent the spraying of the urine.
3 It is not generally known to Christians that Satan has a wife called Awwá (“Hawwá” being the Moslem Eve) and, as Adam had three sons, the Tempter has nine, viz., Zu ‘l-baysun who rules in bazars. Wassin who prevails in times of trouble. Awan who counsels kings; Haffan patron of wine-bibbers; Marrah of musicians and dancers; Masbut of news-spreaders (and newspapers?); Dulhán who frequents places of worship and interferes with devotion. Dasim, lord of mansions and dinner tables, who prevents the Faithful saying “Bismillah” and “Inshallah,” as commanded in the Koran (xviii. 23), and Lakís, lord of Fire worshippers (Herklots, chap. xxix. sect. 4).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifritah Maymunah spake thus to the Ifrit Dahnash, “Sure am I that the like of my beloved is not in this world! Art thou mad to fellow thy beloved with my beloved?” He said, “Allah upon thee, O my lady, go back with me and look upon my mistress, and after I will with thee and look upon thy beloved.” She answered, “It must needs be so, O accursed, for thou art a knavish devil; but I will not go with thee nor shalt thou come with me, save upon condition of a wager which is this. If the lover thou lovest and of whom thou boastest so bravely, prove handsomer than mine whom I mentioned and whom I love and of whom I boast, the bet shall be thine against me; but if my beloved prove the handsomer the bet shall be mine against thee.” Quoth Dahnash the Ifrit, “O my lady, I accept this thy wager and am satisfied thereat; so come with me to the Islands.” Quoth Maymunah; “No! for the abode of my beloved is nearer than the abode of thine: here it is under us; so come down with me to see my beloved and after we will go look upon thy mistress.” “I hear and I obey,” said Dahnash. So they descended to earth and alighted in the saloon which the tower contained; then Maymunah stationed Dahnash beside the bed and, putting out her hand, drew back the silken coverlet from Kamar al-Zaman’s face, when it glittered and glistened and shimmered and shone like the rising sun. She gazed at him for a moment, then turning sharply round upon Dahnash said, “Look, O accursed, and be not the basest of madmen; I am a maid, yet my heart he hath waylaid.” So Dahnash looked at the Prince and long continued gazing steadfastly on him then, shaking his head, said to Maymunah, “By Allah, O my lady, thou art excusable; but there is yet another thing to be considered, and this is, that the estate female differeth from the male. By Allah’s might, this thy beloved is the likest of all created things to my mistress in beauty and loveliness and grace and perfection; and it is as though they were both cast alike in the mould of seemlihead.” Now when Maymunah heard these words, the light became darkness in her sight and she dealt him with her wing so fierce a buffet on the head as well-nigh made an end of him. Then quoth she to him, “I conjure thee, by the light of his glorious countenance, go at once, O accursed, and bring hither thy mistress whom thou lovest so fondly and foolishly, and return in haste that we may lay the twain together and look on them both as they lie asleep side by side; so shall it appear to us which be the goodlier and more beautiful of the two. Except thou obey me this very moment, O accursed, I will dart my sparks at thee with my fire and consume thee; yea, in pieces I will rend thee and into the deserts cast thee, that to stay at home and wayfarer an example thou be!” Quoth Dahnash, “O my lady, I will do thy behests, for I know forsure that my mistress is the fairer and the sweeter.” So saying the If rit flew away and Maymunah flew with him to guard him. They were absent awhile and presently returned, bearing the young lady, who was clad in a shift of fine Venetian silk, with a double edging of gold and purfled with the most exquisite of embroidery having these couplets worked upon the ends of the sleeves,
“Three matters hinder her from visiting us, in fear
Of hate-full, slandering envier and his hired spies:
The shining light of brow, the trinkets’ tinkling voice,
And scent of essences that tell whene’er she tries:
Gi’en that she hide her brow with edge of sleeve, and leave
At home her trinketry, how shall her scent disguise?’’1
And Dahnash and Maymunah stinted not bearing that young lady till they had carried her into the saloon and had laid her beside the youth Kamar al-Zaman. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Strong perfumes, such as musk (which we Europeans dislike and suspect), are always insisted upon in Eastern poetry, and Mohammed’s predilection for them is well known. Moreover the young and the beautiful are held (justly enough) to exhale a natural fragrance which is compared with that of the blessed in Paradise. Hence in the Mu’allakah of Imr al-Keys:—
Breathes the scent of musk when they rise to rove,
As the Zephyr’s breath with the flavour o’clove.
It is made evident by dogs and other fine-nosed animals that every human being has his, or her, peculiar scent which varies according to age and health. Hence animals often detect the approach of death.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifrit Dahnash and the Ifritah Maymunah stinted not bearing Princess Budur till they descended and laid her on the couch beside Kamar al — Zaman. Then they uncovered both their faces, and they were the likest of all folk, each to other, as they were twins or an only brother and sister; and indeed they were a seduction to the pious, even as saith of them the poet Al–Mubín,
“O heart! be not thy love confined to one,
Lest thou by doting or disdain be undone:
Love all the fair, and thou shalt find with them
If this be lost, to thee that shall be won.”
And quoth another,
“Mine eyes beheld two lying on the ground;
Both had I loved if on these eyne they lay!”
So Dahnash and Maymunah gazed on them awhile, and he said, “By Allah, O my lady, it is good! My mistress is assuredly the fairer.” She replied, “Not so, my beloved is the fairer; woe to thee, O Dahnash! Art blind of eye and heart that lean from fat thou canst not depart? Wilt thou hide the truth? Dost thou not see his beauty and loveliness and fine stature and symmetry? Out on thee, hear what I purpose to say in praise of my beloved and, if thou be a lover true to her thou dost love, do thou the like for her thou Lovest.” Then she kissed Kamar al-Zaman again and again between the eyes and improvised this ode,
“How is this? Why should the blamer abuse thee in his pride?
What shall console my heart for thee, that art but slender bough?
A Nature Kohl’d1 eye thou hast that witcheth far and wide;
From pure platonic love2 of it deliverance none I trow!
Those glances, fell as plundering Turk, to heart such havoc deal
As never havocked scymitar made keenest at the curve.
On me thou layest load of love the heaviest while I feel
So feeble grown that under weight of chemisette I swerve.
My love for thee as wottest well is habit, and my lowe
Is nature; to all others false is all the love I tender:
Now were my heart but like to thine I never would say No;
Only my wasted form is like thy waist so gracious slender:
Out on him who in Beauty’s robe for moon like charms hath fame,
And who is claimed by mouth of men as marvel of his tribe!
‘Of man what manner may he be’ (ask they who flyte and blame)
‘For whom thy heart is so distressed?’ I only cry ‘Describe!’
Oh stone-entempered heart of him! learn of his yielding grace
And bending form to show me grace and yielding to consent.
Oh my Prince Beautiful, thou hast an Overseer in place3
Who irketh me, and eke a Groom whose wrong cloth ne’er relent.
Indeed he lieth who hath said that all of loveliness
Was pent in Joseph: in thy charms there’s many and many a Joe!
The Genii dread me when I stand and face to face address;
But meeting thee my fluttering heart its shame and terror show.
I take aversion semblance and I turn from thee in fright,
But more aversion I assume, more love from me dost claim;
That hair of jetty black! That brow e’er raying radiant light!
Those eyne wherein white jostles black!4 That dearling dainty frame!”
When Dahnash heard the poesy which Maymunah spake in praise of her beloved, he joyed with exceeding joy and marvelled with excessive wonderment. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say
1 Arab. “Kahlá.” This has been explained. Mohammed is said to have been born with “Kohl’d eyes.”
2 Hawá al-‘uzrí, before noticed (Night cxiv.).
3 These lines, with the Názir (eye or steward), the Hájib (Groom of the Chambers or Chamberlain) and Joseph, are also repeated from Night cxiv. For the Nazir see Al–Hariri (Nos. xiii. and xxii.)
4 The usual allusion to the Húr (Houris) from “Hangar,” the white and black of the eye shining in contrast. The Persian Magi also placed in their Heaven (Bihisht or Minu) “Huran,” or black-eyed nymphs, under the charge of the angel Zamiyád.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Ifrit Dahnash heard the poesy which Maymunah spake in praise of her beloved, he shook for exceeding joy and said, “Thou hast celebrated thy beloved in song and thou hast indeed done well in praise of him whom thou lovest! And there is no help for it but that I also in my turn do my best to enfame my mistress, and recite somewhat in her honour.” Then the Ifrit went up to the Lady Budur; and’ kissing her between the eyes, looked at Maymunah and at his beloved Princess and recited the following verses, albeit he had no skill in poesy,
“Love for my fair they chide in angry way;
Unjust for ignorance, yea unjustest they!
Ah lavish favours on the love mad, whom
Taste of thy wrath and parting woe shall slay:
In sooth for love I’m wet with railing tears,
That rail mine eyelids blood thou mightest say:
No marvel what I bear for love, ’tis marvel
That any know my “me” while thou’rt away:
Unlawful were our union did I doubt
Thy love, or heart incline to other May.”
And eke these words:—
“I feed eyes on their stead by the valley’s side,
And I’m slain and my slaver1 aside hath tried:
Grief-wine have I drunken, and down my cheeks
Dance tears to the song of the camel-guide:
For union-blessing I strive though sure,
In Budur and Su’ad all my bliss shall bide:2
Wot I not which of three gave me most to ‘plain,
So hear them numbered ere thou decide:
Those Sworders her eyne, that Lancer her fig —
— ure, or ring-mail’d Locks which her forehead hide.
Quoth she (and I ask of her what so wights
Or abide in towns or in desert ride3 )
To me, ‘In thy heart I dwell, look there!’
Quoth I, ‘Where’s my heart ah where? ah where?’”
When Maymunah heard these lines from the Ifrit, she said, “Thou hast done well, O Dahnash! But say thou which of the two is the handsomer?” And he answered, “My mistress Budur is handsomer than thy beloved!” Cried Maymunah, “Thou liest, O accursed. Nay, my beloved is more beautiful than thine!” But Dahnash persisted, “Mine is the fairer.” And they ceased not to wrangle and challenge each other’s words till Maymunah cried out at Dahnash and would have laid violent hands on him, but he humbled himself to her and, softening his speech, said, “Let not the truth be a grief to thee, and cease we this talk, for all we say is to testify in favour of our lovers; rather let each of us withdraw the claim and seek we one who shall judge fairly between us which of the two be fairer; and by his sentence we will abide.” “I agree to this,” answered she and smote the earth with her foot, whereupon there came out of it an Ifrit blind of an eye, humpbacked and scurvy-skinned, with eye-orbits slit up and down his face.4 On his head were seven horns and four locks of hair fell to his heels; his hands were pitchfork-like and his legs mast-like and he had nails as the claws of a lion, and feet as the hoofs of the wild ass.5 When that If rit rose out of the earth and sighted Maymunah, he kissed the ground before her and, standing with his hands clasped behind him, said, “What is thy will, O my mistress, O daughter of my King?”6 She replied, “O Kashkash, I would have thee judge between me and this accursed Dahnash.” And she made known to him the matter, from first to last, whereupon the Ifrit Kashkash looked at the face of the youth and then at the face of the girl; and saw them lying asleep, embraced, each with an arm under the other’s neck, alike in beauty and loveliness and equal in grace and goodliness. The Marid gazed long upon them, marvelling at their seemlihead; and, after carefully observing the twain, he turned to Maymunah and Dahnash, and reseated these couplets.
“Go, visit her thou lovest, and regard not The words detractors utter, envious churls Can never favour love. Oh! sure the Merciful Ne’er made a thing more fair to look upon, Than two fond lovers in each others’ arms, Speaking their passion in a mute embrace. When heart has turned to heart, the fools would part them Strike idly on cold steel. So when thou’st found One purely, wholly thine, accept her true heart, And live for her alone. Oh! thou that blamest The love-struck for their love, give o’er thy talk, How canst thou minister to a mind diseased?”7
Then he turned again to Maymunah and Dahnash and said to them, “By Allah, if you will have the truth, I tell you fairly the twain be equal in beauty, and loveliness and perfect grace and goodliness, nor can I make any difference between them on account of their being man and woman. But I have another thought which is that we wake each of them in turn, without the knowledge of the other, and whichever is the more enamoured shall be held inferior in seemlihead and comeliness.” Quoth Maymunah, “Right is this recking,” and quoth Dahnash, “I consent to this.” Then Dahnash changed himself to the form of a flea and bit Kamar al-Zaman, whereupon he started from sleep in a fright. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In the first hemistich, “bi-shitt ‘it wády” (by the wady-bank): in the second, “wa shatta ‘l wády” (“and my slayer”— i.e. wády act. part. of wady, killing —“hath paced away”).
2 The double entendre is from the proper names Budúr and Su’ád (Beatrice) also meaning “auspicious (or blessed) full moons.”
3 Arab. “Házir” (also Ahl al-hazer, townsmen) and Bádi, a Badawi, also called “Ahl al-Wabar,” people of the camel’s hair (tent) and A’aráb (Nomadic) as opposed to Arab (Arab settled or not). They still boast with Ibn Abbas, cousin of Mohammed, that they have kerchiefs (not turbands) for crowns, tents for houses, loops for walls, swords for scarves and poems for registers or written laws.
4 This is a peculiarity of the Jinn tribe when wearing hideous forms. It is also found in the Hindu Rakshasa.
5 Which, by the by, are small and beautifully shaped. The animal is very handy with them, as I learnt by experience when trying to “Rareyfy” one at Bayrut.
6 She being daughter of Al–Dimiryát, King of the Jinns. Mr. W. F. Kirby has made him the subject of a pretty poem.
7 These lines have occurred in Night xxii. I give Torrens’s version (p. 223) by way of variety.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Dahnash changed himself to the form of a flea and bit Kamar al-Zaman who started from sleep in a fright and rubbed the bitten part, his neck, and scratched it hard because of the smart. Then turning sideways, he found lying by him something whose breath was sweeter than musk and whose skin was softer than cream. Hereat marvelled he with great marvel and he sat up and looked at what lay beside him; when he saw it to be a young lady like an union pearl, or a shining sun, or a dome seen from afar on a well built wall; for she was five feet tall, with a shape like the letter Alif1, bosomed high and rosy checked; even as saith of her the poet,
“Four things which ne’er conjoin, unless it be
To storm my vitals and to shed my blood:
Brow white as day and tresses black as night
Cheeks rosy red and lips which smiles o’erflood.”
And also quoth another,
“A Moon she rises, Willow wand she waves,
Breathes Ambergris, and gazes, a Gazelle:
Meseems that sorrow woes my heart and wins
And, when she wendeth hastes therein to dwell!”
And when Kamar al-Zaman saw the Lady Budur, daughter of King Ghayur, and her beauty and comeliness, she was sleeping clad in a shift of Venetian silk, without her petticoat-trousers, and wore on her head a kerchief embroidered with gold and set with stones of price: her ears were hung with twin earrings which shone like constellations and round her neck was a collar of union pearls, of size unique, past the competence of any King. When he saw this, his reason was confounded and natural heat began to stir in him; Allah awoke in him the desire of coition and he said to himself, “Whatso Allah willeth, that shall be, and what He willeth not shall never be!” So saying, he put out his hand and, turning her over, loosed the collar of her chemise; then arose before his sight her bosom, with its breasts like double globes of ivory; whereat his inclination for her redoubled and he desired her with exceeding hot desire, He would have awakened her but she would not awake, for Dahnash had made her sleep heavy; so he shook her and moved her, saying, “O my beloved, awake and look on me; I am Kamar al-Zaman.” But she awoke not, neither moved her head; where-upon he considered her case for a long hour and said to himself, “If I guess aright, this is the damsel to whom my father would have married me and these three years past I have refused her; but Inshallah! — God willing — as soon as it is dawn, I will say to him, ‘Marry me to her, that I may enjoy her.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kámat Alfiyyah,” like an Alif, the first of the Arabic alphabet, the Heb. Aleph. The Arabs, I have said, took the flag or water leaf form and departed very far from the Egyptian original (we know from Plutarch that the hieroglyphic abecedarium began with “a”), which was chosen by other imitators, namely the bull’s head, and which in the cursive form, especially the Phœnician, became a yoke. In numerals “Alif” denotes one or one thousand. It inherits the traditional honours of Alpha (as opposed to Omega) and in books, letters and writings generally it is placed as a monogram over the “Bismillah,” an additional testimony to the Unity. (See vol. i. p. 1.) In mediæval Christianity this place of honour was occupied by the cross: none save the wildest countries have preserved it, but our vocabulary still retains Criss’ (Christ-)cross Row, for horn-book, on account of the old alphabet and nine digits disposed in the form of a Latin cross. Hence Tickell (“The Horn-book”):
—— Mortals ne’er shall know
More than contained of old the Chris’-cross Row.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman said to himself, “By Allah, when I see dawn I will say to my sire, ‘Marry me to her that I may enjoy her’; nor will I let half the day pass ere I possess her and take my fill of her beauty and loveliness.” Then he bent over Budur to buss her, whereat the Jinniyah Maymunah trembled and was abashed and Dahnash, the Ifrit, was like to fly for joy. But, as Kamar al- Zaman was about to kiss her upon the mouth, he was ashamed before Allah and turned away his head and averted his face, saying to his heart, “Have patience.” Then he took thought awhile and said, “I will be patient; haply my father when he was wroth with me and sent me to this jail, may have brought my young lady and made her lie by my side to try me with her, and may have charged her not to be readily awakened when I would arouse her, and may have said to her, ‘Whatever thing Kamar al-Zaman do to thee, make me ware thereof’; or belike my sire standeth hidden in some stead whence (being himself unseen) he can see all I do with this young lady; and to morrow he will scold me and cry, ‘How cometh it that thou sayest, I have no mind to marry; and yet thou didst kiss and embrace yonder damsel?’ So I will withhold myself lest I be ashamed before my sire; and the right and proper thing to do is not to touch her at this present, nor even to look upon her, except to take from her somewhat which shall serve as a token to me and a memorial of her; that some sign endure between me and her.” Then Kamar al-Zaman raised the young lady’s hand and took from her little finger a seal-ring worth an immense amount of money, for that its bezel was a precious jewel and around it were graven these couplets,
“Count not that I your promises forgot,
Despite the length of your delinquencies
Be generous, O my lord, to me inclining;
Haply your mouth and cheeks these lips may kiss:
By Allah, ne’er will I relinquish you
Albe you will transgress love’s boundaries.”
Then Kamar al-Zaman took the seal-ring from the little finger of Queen Budur and set it on his own; then, turning his back to her, went to sleep.1 When Maymunah the Jinniyah saw this, she was glad and said to Dahnash and Kashkash, “Saw ye how my beloved Kamar al-Zaman bore himself chastely towards this young lady? Verily, this was of the perfection of his good gifts; for observe you twain how he looked on her and noted her beauty and loveliness, and yet embraced her not neither kissed her nor put his hand to her, but turned his back and slept.” Answered they, “Even so!” Thereupon Maymunah changed herself into a flea and entering into the raiment of Budur, the loved of Dahnash, crept up her calf and came upon her thigh and, reaching a place some four carats2 below her navel, there bit her. Thereupon she opened her eyes and sitting up in bed, saw a youth lying beside her and breathing heavily in his sleep, the loveliest of Almighty Allah’s creatures, with eyes that put to shame the fairest Houris of Heaven; and a mouth like Solomon’s seal, whose water was sweeter to the taste and more efficacious than a theriack, and lips the colour of coral-stone, and cheeks like the blood red anemone, even as saith one, describing him in these couplets,
“My mind’s withdrawn from Zaynab and Nawár3
By rosy cheeks that growth of myrtle bear;
I love a fawn, a tunic-vested boy,
And leave the love of bracelet-wearing Fair:
My mate in hall and closet is unlike
Her that I play with, as at home we pair.
Oh thou, who blam’st my flight from Hind and Zaynab,
The cause is clear as dawn uplighting air!
Would’st have me fare4 a slave, the thrall of thrall,
Cribbed, pent, confined behind the bar and wall?”
Now when Princess Budur saw him, she was seized by a transport of passion and yearning and love-longing — And Shahrazad per ceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The young man must have been a demon of chastity.
2 Arab. “Kirát” from i.e. bean, the seed of the Abrus precatorius, in weight=two to three (English) grains; and in length=one finger-breadth here; 24 being the total. The Moslem system is evidently borrowed from the Roman “as” and “uncia.”
3 Names of women.
4 Arab. “Amsa” (lit. he passed the evening) like “asbaha” (he rose in the morning) “Azhá” (he spent the forenoon) and “bata” (he spent the night), are idiomatically used for “to be in any state, to continue” without specification of time or season.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Princess Budur saw Kamar al-Zaman she was forthwith seized with a transport of passion and yearning and love longing, and she said to herself, “Alas, my shame! This is a strange youth and I know him not. How cometh he to be lying by my side on one bed?” Then she looked at him a second time and, noting his beauty and loveliness, said, “By Allah, he is indeed a comely youth and my heart1 is well-nigh torn in sunder with longing for him! But alas, how am I shamed by him! By the Almighty, had I known it was this youth who sought me in marriage of my father, I had not rejected him, but had wived with him and enjoyed his loveliness!” Then she gazed in his face and said, “O my lord and light of mine eyes, awake from sleep and take thy pleasure in my beauty and grace.” And she moved him with her hand; but Maymunah the Jinniyah let down sleep upon him as it were a curtain, and pressed heavily on his head with her wings so that Kamar al-Zaman awoke not. Then Princess Budur shook him with her hands and said, “My life on thee, hearken to me; awake and up from thy sleep and look on the narcissus and the tender down thereon, and enjoy the sight of naked waist and navel; and touzle me and tumble me from this moment till break of day! Allah upon thee, O my lord, sit up and prop thee against the pillow and slumber not!” Still Kamar al-Zaman made her no reply but breathed hard in his sleep. Continued she, “Alas! Alas! thou art insolent in thy beauty and comeliness and grace and loving looks! But if thou art handsome, so am I handsome; what then is this thou dost? Have they taught thee to flout me or hath my father, the wretched old fellow,2 made thee swear not to speak to me to-night?” But Kamar al-Zaman opened not his mouth neither awoke, whereat her passion for him redoubled and Allah inflamed her heart with love of him. She stole one glance of eyes that cost her a thousand sighs: her heart fluttered, and her vitals throbbed and her hands and feet quivered; and she said to Kamar al-Zaman “Talk to me, O my lord! Speak to me, O my friend! Answer me, O my beloved, and tell me thy name, for indeed thou hast ravished my wit!” And during all this time he abode drowned in sleep and answered her not a word, and Princess Budur sighed and said, “Alas! Alas! why art thou so proud and self satisfied?” Then she shook him and turning his hand over, saw her seal-ring on his little finger, whereat she cried a loud cry, and followed it with a sigh of passion and said, “Alack! Alack! By Allah, thou art my beloved and thou lovest me! Yet thou seemest to turn thee away from me out of coquetry, for all, O my darling, thou camest to me, whilst I was asleep and knew not what thou didst with me, and tookest my seal-ring; and yet I will not pull it off thy finger.” So saying, she opened the bosom of his shirt and bent over him and kissed him and put forth her hand to him, seeking somewhat that she might take as a token, but found nothing. Then she thrust her hand into his breast and, because of the smoothness of his body, it slipped down to his waist and thence to his navel and thence to his yard, whereupon her heart ached and her vitals quivered and lust was sore upon her, for that the desire of women is fiercer than the desire of men,3 and she was ashamed of her own shamelessness. Then she plucked his seal-ring from his finger, and put it on her own instead of the ring he had taken, and bussed his inner lips and hands, nor did she leave any part of him unkissed; after which she took him to her breast and embraced him and, laying one of her hands under his neck and the other under his arm-pit, nestled close to him and fell asleep by his side. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lit. “my liver;” which viscus, and not the heart, is held the seat of passion, a fancy dating from the oldest days. Theocritus says of Hercules, “In his liver Love had fixed a wound” (Idyl. xiii.). In the Anthologia “Cease, Love, to wound my liver and my heart” (lib. vii.). So Horace (Odes, i. 2); his Latin Jecur and the Persian “Jigar” being evident congeners. The idea was long prevalent and we find in Shakespeare:—
Alas, then Love may be called appetite,
No motion of the liver but the palate.
2 A marvellous touch of nature, love ousting affection; the same trait will appear in the lover and both illustrate the deep Italian saying, “Amor discende, non ascende.” The further it goes down the stronger it becomes as of grand-parent for grand-child and vice versa.
3 This tenet of the universal East is at once fact and unfact. As a generalism asserting that women’s passion is ten times greater than man’s (Pilgrimage, ii. 282), it is unfact. The world shows that while women have more philoprogenitiveness, men have more amativeness; otherwise the latter would not propose and would nurse the doll and baby. Pact, however, in low-lying lands, like Persian Mazanderan versus the Plateau; Indian Malabar compared with Marátha-land; California as opposed to Utah and especially Egypt contrasted with Arabia. In these hot damp climates the venereal requirements and reproductive powers of the female greatly exceed those of the male; and hence the dissoluteness of morals would be phenomenal, were it not obviated by seclusion, the sabre and the revolver. In cold-dry or hot-dry mountainous lands the reverse is the case; hence polygamy there prevails whilst the low countries require polyandry in either form, legal or illegal (i,e. prostitution) I have discussed this curious point of “geographical morality” (for all morality is, like conscience, both geographical and chronological), a subject so interesting to the lawgiver, the student of ethics and the anthropologist, in “The City of the Saints “ But strange and unpleasant truths progress slowly, especially in England.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Princess Budur fell asleep by the side of Kamar al-Zaman, after doing that which she did, quoth Maymunah to Dahnash, Night thou, O accursed, how proudly and coquettishly my beloved bore himself, and how hotly and passionately thy mistress showed herself to my dearling? There can be no doubt that my beloved is handsomer than thine; nevertheless I pardon thee.” Then she wrote him a document of manumission and turned to Kashkash and said, “Go, help Dahnash to take up his mistress and aid him to carry her back to her own place, for the night waneth apace and there is but little left of it.” “I hear and I obey;” answered Kashkash. So the two Ifrits went forward to Princess Budur and upraising her flew away with her; then, bearing her back to her own place, they laid her on her bed, whilst Maymunah abode alone with Kamar al-Zaman, gazing upon him as he slept, till the night was all but spent, when she went her way. As soon as morning morrowed, the Prince awoke from sleep and turned right and left, but found not the maiden by him and said in his mind, “What is this business? It is as if my father would incline me to marriage with the damsel who was with me and have now taken her away by stealth, to the intent that my desire for wedlock may redouble.” Then he called out to the eunuch who slept at the door, saying, “Woe to thee, O damned one, arise at once!” So the eunuch rose, bemused with sleep, and brought him basin and ewer, whereupon Kamar al-Zaman entered the water closet and did his need;1 then, coming out made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed the dawn-prayer, after which he sat telling on his beads the ninety-and-nine names of Almighty Allah. Then he looked up and, seeing the eunuch standing in service upon him, said, “Out on thee, O Sawáb! Who was it came hither and took away the young lady from my side and I still sleeping?” Asked the eunuch, ‘O my lord, what manner of young lady?” “The young lady who lay with me last night,” replied Kamar al-Zaman. The eunuch was startled at his words and said to him, “By Allah, there hath been with thee neither young lady nor other! How should young lady have come in to thee, when I was sleeping in the doorway and the door was locked? By Allah, O my lord, neither male nor female hath come in to thee!” Exclaimed the Prince, “Thou liest, O pestilent slave!: is it of thy competence also to hoodwink me and refuse to tell me what is become of the young lady who lay with me last night and decline to inform me who took her away?” Replied the eunuch (and he was affrighted at him), “By Allah, O my lord, I have seen neither young lady nor young lord!” His words only angered Kamar al-Zaman the more and he said to him, “O accursed one, my father hath indeed taught thee deceit! Come hither.” So the eunuch came up to him, and the Prince took him by the collar and dashed him to the ground; whereupon he let fly a loud fart2 and Kamar al-Zaman, kneeling upon him, kicked him and throttled him till he fainted away. Then he dragged him forth and tied him to the well-rope, and let him down like a bucket into the well and plunged him into the water, then drew him up and lowered him down again. Now it was hard winter weather, and Kamar al-Zaman ceased not to plunge the eunuch into the water and pull him up again and douse him and haul him whilst he screamed and called for help; and the Prince kept on saying “By Allah, O damned one, I will not draw thee up out of this well till thou tell me and fully acquaint me with the story of the young lady and who it was took her away, whilst I slept.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This morning evacuation is considered, in the East, a sine quâ non of health; and old Anglo–Indians are unanimous in their opinion of the “bard fajar” (as they mispronounce the dawn-clearance). The natives of India, Hindús (pagans) and Hindís (Moslems), unlike Europeans, accustom themselves to evacuate twice a day, evening as well as morning. This may, perhaps, partly account for their mildness and effeminacy; for:—
C’est la constipation qui rend l’homme rigoureux.
The English, since the first invasion of cholera, in October, 1831, are a different race from their costive grandparents who could not dine without a “dinner-pill.” Curious to say the clyster is almost unknown to the people of Hindostan although the barbarous West Africans use it daily to “wash ‘um belly,” as the Bonney-men say. And, as Sonnini notes to propose the process in Egypt under the Beys might have cost a Frankish medico his life.
2 The Egyptian author cannot refrain from this characteristic polissonnerie; and reading it out is always followed by a roar of laughter. Even serious writers like Al-Hariri do not, as I have noted, despise the indecency.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman said to the eunuch, “By Allah! I will not draw thee up out of this well until thou tell me the story of the young lady and who it was took her away whilst I slept.” Answered the eunuch, after he had seen death staring him in the face; “O my lord, let me go and I will relate to thee the truth and the whole tale.” So Kamar al-Zaman pulled him up out of the well, all but dead for suffering, what with cold and the pain of dipping and dousing, drubbing and dread of drowning. He shook like cane in hurricane, his teeth were clenched as by cramp and his clothes were drenched and his body befouled and torn by the rough sides of the well: briefly he was in a sad pickle. Now when Kamar al-Zaman saw him in this sorry plight, he was concerned for him; but, as soon as the eunuch found himself on the floor, he said to him, “O my lord, let me go and doff my clothes and wring them out and spread them in the sun to dry, and don others; after which I will return to thee forthwith and tell thee the truth of the matter.” Answered the Prince, “O rascal slave! hadst thou not seen death face to face, never hadst thou confessed to fact nor told me a word; but go now and do thy will, and then come back to me at once and tell me the truth.” Thereupon the eunuch went out, hardly crediting his escape, and ceased not running, stumbling and rising in his haste, till he came in to King Shahriman, whom he found sitting at talk with his Wazir of Kamar al-Zaman’s case. The King was saying to the Minister, “I slept not last night, for anxiety concerning my son, Kamar al-Zaman and indeed I fear lest some harm befal him in that old tower. What good was there in imprisoning him?” Answered the Wazir, “Have no care for him. By Allah, no harm will befal him! None at all! Leave him in prison for a month till his temper yield and his spirit be broken and he return to his senses.” As the two spoke behold, up rushed the eunuch, in the aforesaid plight, making to the King who was troubled at sight of him; and he cried “O our lord the Sultan! Verily, thy son’s wits are fled and he hath gone mad, he hath dealt with me thus and thus, so that I am become as thou seest me, and he kept saying, ‘A young lady lay with me this night and stole away secretly whilst I slept. Where is she?’ And he insisteth on my letting him know where she is and on my telling him who took her away. But I have seen neither girl nor boy: the door was locked all through the night, for I slept before it with the key under my head, and I opened to him in the morning with my own hand. When King Shahriman heard this, he cried out, saying, “Alas, my son!;” and he was enraged with sore rage against the Wazir, who had been the cause of all this case and said to him, “Go up, bring me news of my son and see what hath befallen his mind.” So the Wazir rose and, stumbling over his long skirts, in his fear of the King’s wrath, hastened with the slave to the tower. Now the sun had risen and when the Minister came in to Kamar al-Zaman, he found him sitting on the couch reciting the Koran; so he saluted him and seated himself by his side, and said to him, “O my lord, this wretched eunuch brought us tidings which troubled and alarmed us and which incensed the King.” Asked Kamar al-Zaman, “And what hath he told you of me to trouble my father? In good sooth he hath troubled none but me.” Answered the Wazir, “He came to us in fulsome state and told us of thee a thing which Heaven forfend; and the slave added a lie which it befitteth not to repeat, Allah preserve thy youth and sound sense and tongue of eloquence, and forbid to come from thee aught of offense!” Quoth the Prince, “O Wazir, and what thing did this pestilent slave say of me?” The Minister replied, “He told us that thy wits had taken leave of thee and thou wouldst have it that a young lady lay with thee last night, and thou west instant with him to tell thee whither she went and thou diddest torture him to that end.” But when Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, he was enraged with sore rage and he said to the Wazir, “’Tis manifest to me in very deed that you people taught the eunuch to do as he did.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her per misted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar al-Zaman heard the words of the Wazir he was enraged with sore rage and said to him, “’Tis manifest to me in very deed that you people taught the eunuch to do as he did and forbade him to tell me what became of the young lady who lay with me last night. But thou, O Wazir, art cleverer than the eunuch, so do thou tell me without stay or delay, whither went the young lady who slept on my bosom last night; for it was you who sent her and bade her steep in my embrace and we lay together till dawn; but, when I awoke, I found her not. So where is she now?” Said the Wazir, “O my lord Kamar al-Zaman, Allah’s name encompass thee about! By the Almighty, we sent none to thee last night, but thou layest alone, with the door locked on thee and the eunuch sleeping behind it, nor did there come to thee young lady or any other. Regain thy reason, O my lord, and stablish thy senses and occupy not thy mind with vanities.” Rejoined Kamar al-Zaman who was incensed at his words, “O Wazir, the young lady in question is my beloved, the fair one with the black eyes and rosy cheeks, whom I held in my arms all last night.” So the Minister wondered at his words and asked him, “Didst thou see this damsel last night with thine own eyes on wake or in sleep?” Answered Kamar al-Zaman, “O ill-omened old man, dost thou fancy I saw her with my ears? Indeed, I saw her with my very eyes and awake, and I touched her with my hand, and I watched by her full half the night, feeding my vision on her beauty and loveliness and grace and tempting looks. But you had schooled her and charged her to speak no word to me; so she feigned sleep and I lay by her side till dawn, when I awoke and found her gone.” Rejoined the Wazir, “O my lord Kamar al-Zaman, haply thou sawest this in thy sleep; it must have been a delusion of dreams or a deception caused by eating various kinds of food, or a suggestion of the accursed devils.” Cried the Prince, “O pestilent old man! wilt thou too make a mock of me and tell me this was haply a delusion of dreams, when that eunuch confessed to the young lady, saying, ‘At once I will return to thee and tell thee all about her?’” With these words, he sprang up and rushed at the Wazir and gripped hold of his beard (which was long1) and, after gripping it, he twisted his hand in it and haling him off the couch, threw him on the floor. It seemed to the Minister as though his soul departed his body for the violent plucking at his beard; and Kamar al-Zaman ceased not kicking the Wazir and basting his breast and ribs and cuffing him with open hand on the nape of his neck till he had well-nigh beaten him to death. Then said the old man in his mind, “Just as the eunuch-slave saved his life from this lunatic youth by telling him a lie, thus it is even fitter that I do likewise; else he will destroy me. So now for my lie to save myself, he being mad beyond a doubt.” Then he turned to Kamar al-Zaman and said, “O my lord, pardon me; for indeed thy father charged me to conceal from thee this affair of the young lady; but now I am weak and weary and wounded with funding; for I am an old man and lack strength and bottom to endure blows. Have, therefore, a little patience with me and I will tell thee all and acquaint thee with the story of the young woman.” When the Prince heard this, he left off drubbing him and said, “Wherefore couldst thou not tell me the tale until after shame and blows? Rise now, unlucky old man that thou art, and tell me her story.” Quoth the Wazir, “Say, dost thou ask of the young lady with the fair face and perfect form?” Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, “Even so! Tell me, O Wazir, who it was that led her to me and laid her by my side, and who was it that took her away from me by night; and let me know forthright whither she is gone, that I myself may go to her at once. If my father did this deed to me that he might try me by means of that beautiful girl, with a view to our marriage, I consent to wed her and free myself of this trouble; for he did all these dealings with me only because I refused wedlock. But now I consent and I say again, I consent to matrimony: so tell this to my father, O Wazir, and advise him to marry me to that young lady; for I will have none other and my heart loveth none save her alone. Now rise up at once and haste thee to my father and counsel him to hurry on our wedding and bring me his answer within this very hour.” Rejoined the Wazir, “’Tis well!” and went forth from him, hardly believing himself out of his hands. Then he set off from the tower, walking and tripping up as he went, for excess of fright and agitation, and he ceased not hurrying till he came in to King Shahriman. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “‘Long beard and little wits,” is a saying throughout the East where the Kausaj (= man with thin, short beard) is looked upon as cunning and tricksy. There is a venerable Joe Miller about a schoolmaster who, wishing to singe his long beard short, burnt it off and his face to boot:— which reminded him of the saying. A thick beard is defined as one which wholly conceals the skin; and in ceremonial ablution it must be combed out with the fingers till the water reach the roots. The Sunnat, or practice of the Prophet, was to wear the beard not longer than one hand and two fingers’ breadth. In Persian “Kúseh” (thin beard) is an insulting term opposed to “Khush-rísh,” a well-bearded man. The Iranian growth is perhaps the finest in the world, often extending to the waist; but it gives infinite trouble, requiring, for instance, a bag when travelling. The Arab beard is often composed of two tufts on the chin-sides and straggling hairs upon the cheeks; and this is a severe mortification, especially to Shaykhs and elders, who not only look upon the beard as one of man’s characteristics, but attach a religious importance to the appendage. Hence the enormity of Kamar al-Zaman’s behaviour. The Persian festival of the vernal equinox was called Kusehnishín (Thin-beard sitting). An old man with one eye paraded the streets on an ass with a crow in one hand and a scourge and fan in the other, cooling himself, flogging the bystanders and crying heat! heat! (garmá! garmá!). For other particulars see Richardson (Dissertation, p. Iii.). This is the Italian Giorno delle Vecchie, Thursday in Mid Lent, March 12 (1885), celebrating the death of Winter and the birth of Spring.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir, fared forth from the tower, and ceased not running till he came in to King Shahriman, who said to him as he sighted him, “O thou Wazir, what man hath brought thee to grief and whose mischief hath treated thee in way unlief; how happeneth it that I see thee dumb foundered and coming to me thus astounded?” Replied the Wazir, “O King! I bring thee good news.” “And what is it?” quoth Shahriman, and quoth the Wazir, “Know that thy son Kamar al-Zaman’s wits are clean gone and that he hath become stark mad.” Now when the King heard these words of the Minister, light became darkness in his sight and he said, “O Wazir, make clear to me the nature of his madness.” Answered the Wazir, “O my lord, I hear and I obey.” Then he told him that such and such had passed and acquainted him with all that his son had done; whereupon the King said to him, “Hear, O Wazir, the good tidings which I give thee in return for this thy fair news of my son’s insanity; and it shall be the cutting off of thy head and the forfeiture of my favour, O most ill-omened of Wazirs and foulest of Emirs! for I feel that thou hast caused my son’s disorder by the wicked advice and the sinister counsel thou hast given me first and last. By Allah, if aught of mischief or madness have befallen my son I will most assuredly nail thee upon the palace dome and make thee drain the bitterest draught of death!’’ Then he sprang up and, taking the Wazir, with him, fared straight for the tower and entered it. And when Kamar al-Zaman saw the two, he rose to his father in haste from the couch whereon he sat and kissing his hands drew back and hung down his head and stood before him with his arms behind him, and thus remained for a full hour. Then he raised his head towards his sire; the tears gushed from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks and he began repeating,
“Forgive the sin ‘neath which my limbs are trembling, For the slave seeks for mercy from his master; I’ve done a fault, which calls for free confession, Where shall it call for mercy, and forgiveness?’’1
When the King heard this, he arose and embraced his son, and kissing him between the eyes, made him sit by his side on the couch; then he turned to the Wazir, and, looking on him with eyes of wrath, said, “O dog of Wazirs, how didst thou say of my son such and such things and make my heart quake for him?” Then he turned to the Prince and said, “O my son, what is to-day called?” He answered, “O my father, this day is the Sabbath, and to morrow is First day: then come Second day, Third, Fourth, Fifth day and lastly Friday.”2 Exclaimed the King, “O my son, O Kamar al-Zaman, praised be Allah for the preservation of thy reason! What is the present month called in our Arabic?” “Zú‘l Ka’adah,” answered Kamar al-Zaman, “and it is followed by Zú‘l hijjah; then cometh Muharram, then Safar, then Rabí‘a the First and Rabí‘a the Second, the two Jamádás, Rajab, Sha’aban, Ramazán and Shawwál.” At this the King rejoiced exceedingly and spat in the Wazir’s face, saying, “O wicked old man, how canst thou say that my son is mad? And now none is mad but thou.” Hereupon the Minister shook his head and would have spoken, but bethought himself to wait awhile and see what might next befal. Then the King said to his child, “O my son, what words be these thou saddest to the eunuch and the Wazir, declaring, ‘I was sleeping with a fair damsel this night?’3 What damsel is this of whom thou speakest?” Then Kamar al-Zaman laughed at his father’s words and replied, “O my father, know that I can bear no more jesting; so add me not another mock or even a single word on the matter, for my temper hath waxed short by that you have done with me. And know, O my father, with assured knowledge, that I consent to marry, but on condition that thou give me to wife her who lay by my side this night; for I am certain it was thou sentest her to me and madest me in love with her and then despatchedst a message to her before the dawn and tookest her away from beside me.” Rejoined the King, “The name of Allah encompass thee about, O my son, and be thy wit preserved from witlessness!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 I quote Torrens (p. 400) as these lines have occurred in Night xxxviii.
2 Moslems have only two names for week days, Friday, Al–Jum’ah or meeting-day, and Al–Sabt, Sabbath day, that is Saturday. The others are known by numbers after Quaker fashion with us, the usage of Portugal and Scandinavia.
3 Our last night.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth King Shahriman to his son Kamar al-Zaman, “The name of Allah encompass thee about, O my son, and be thy wit preserved from witlessness! What thing be this young lady whom thou fanciest I sent to thee last night and then again that I sent to withdraw her from thee before dawn? By the Lord, O my son, I know nothing of this affair, and Allah upon thee, tell me if it be a delusion of dreaming or a deception caused by indisposition. For verily thou layest down to sleep last night with thy mind occupied anent marriage and troubled with the talk of it (Allah damn marriage and the hour when I spake of it and curse him who counselled it!); and without doubt or diffidence I can say that being moved in mind by the mention of wedlock thou dreamedst that a handsome young lady embraced thee and didst fancy thou sawest her when awake. But all this, O my son, is but an imbroglio of dreams.” Replied Kamar al-Zaman, “Leave this talk and swear to me by Allah, the All creator, the Omniscient; the Humbler of the tyrant Caesars and the Destroyer of the Chosroes, that thou knowest naught of the young lady nor of her woning-place.” Quoth the King, “By the Might of Allah Almighty, the God of Moses and Abraham, I know naught of all this and never even heard of it; it is assuredly a delusion of dreams thou hast seen in sleep.’ Then the Prince replied to his sire, “I will give thee a self evident proof that it happened to me when on wake.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al Zamar said to his sire, “I will give thee a self-evident proof that this happened to me when on wake. Now let me ask thee, did it ever befal any man to dream that he was battling a sore battle and after to awake from sleep and find in his hand a sword-blade besmeared with blood? Answered the King, “No, by Allah, O my son, this hath never been.” Rejoined Kamar al-Zaman, “I will tell thee what happened to me and it was this. Meseemed I awoke from sleep in the middle of the past night and found a girl lying by my side, whose form was like mine and whose favour was as mine. I embraced her and turned her about with my hand and took her seal-ring, which I put on my finger, and she pulled off my ring and put it on hers. Then I went to sleep by her side, but refrained from her for shame of thee, deeming that thou hadst sent her to me, intending to tempt me with her and incline me to marriage, and suspecting thee to be hidden somewhere whence thou couldst see what I did with her. And I was ashamed even to kiss her on the mouth for thy account, thinking over this temptation to wedlock; and, when I awoke at point of day, I found no trace of her, nor could I come at any news of her, and there befel me what thou knowest of with the eunuch and with the Wazir. How then can this case have been a dream and a delusion, when the ring is a reality? Save for her ring on my finger I should indeed have deemed it a dream; but here is the ring on my little finger: look at it, O King, and see what is its worth.” So saying he handed the ring to his father, who examined it and turned it over, then looked to his son and said, “Verily, there is in this ring some mighty mystery and some strange secret. What befel thee last night with the girl is indeed a hard nut to crack, and I know not how intruded upon us this intruder. None is the cause of all this posher save the Wazir; but, Allah upon thee, O my son, take patience, so haply the Lord may turn to gladness this thy grief and to thy sadness bring complete relief: as quoth one of the poets,
‘Haply shall Fortune draw her rein, and bring
Fair chance, for she is changeful, jealous, vain:
Still I may woo my want and wishes win,
And see on heels of care unfair, the fain.’
And now, O my son, I am certified at this hour that thou art not mad; but thy case is a strange one which none can clear up for thee save the Almighty.” Cried the Prince, “By Allah, O my father, deal kindly with me and seek out this young lady and hasten her coming to me; else I shall die of woe and of my death shall no one know.” Then he betrayed the ardour of his passion; and turned towards his father and repeated these two couplets,
“If your promise of personal call prove untrue,
Deign in vision to grant me an interview:
Quoth they, ‘How can phantom1 appear to the sight
Of a youth, whose sight is fordone, perdue?’”
Then, after ending his poetry, Kamar al-Zaman again turned to his father, with submission and despondency, and shedding tears in flood, began repeating these lines. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Tayf”=phantom, the nearest approach to our “ghost,” that queer remnant of Fetishism imbedded in Christianity; the phantasma, the shade (not the soul) of tile dead. Hence the accurate Niebuhr declares, “apparitions (i.e., of the departed) are unknown in Arabia.” Haunted houses are there tenanted by Ghuls, Jinns and a host of supernatural creatures; but not by ghosts proper; and a man may live years in Arabia before he ever hears of the “Tayf.” With the Hindus it is otherwise (Pilgrimage iii. 144). Yet the ghost, the embodied fear of the dead and of death is common, in a greater or less degree, to all peoples; and, as modern Spiritualism proves, that ghost is not yet laid.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar al-Zaman had repeated to his father these verses, he wept and complained and groaned from a wounded heart; and added these lines,
“Beware that eye glance which hath magic might;
Wherever turn those orbs it bars our flight:
Nor be deceived by low sweet voice, that breeds
A fever festering in the heart and sprite:
So soft that silky skin, were rose to touch it
She’d cry and tear-drops rain for pain and fright:
Did Zephyr e’en in sleep pass o’er her land,
Scented he’d choose to dwell in scented site:
Her necklets vie with tinkling of her belt;
Her wrists strike either wristlet dumb with spite:
When would her bangles buss those rings in ear,
Upon the lover’s eyne high mysteries ‘light:
I’m blamed for love of her, nor pardon claim;
Eyes are not profiting which lack foresight:
Heaven strip thee, blamer mine! unjust art thou;
Before this fawn must every eye low bow.”1
After which he said, “By Allah, O my father, I cannot endure to be parted from her even for an hour.” The King smote hand upon hand and exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! No cunning contrivance can profit us in this affair.” Then he took his son by the hand and carried him to the palace, where Kamar al-Zaman lay down on the bed of languor and the King sat at his head, weeping and mourning over him and leaving him not, night or day, till at last the Wazir came in to him and said, “O King of the age and the time, how long wilt thou remain shut up with thy son and hide thyself from thy troops. Haply, the order of thy realm may be deranged, by reason of thine absence from thy Grandees and Officers of State. It behoveth the man of understanding, if he have various wounds in his body, to apply him first to medicine the most dangerous; so it is my counsel to thee that thou remove thy son from this place to the pavilion which is in the palace overlooking the sea; and shut thyself up with him there, setting apart in every week two days, Thursday and Monday, for state receptions and progresses and reviews. On these days let thine Emirs and Wazirs and Chamberlains and Viceroys and high Officials and Grandees of the realm and the rest of the levies and the lieges have access to thee and submit their affairs to thee; and do thou their needs and judge among them and give and take with them and bid and forbid. And the rest of the week thou shalt pass with thy son, Kamar al-Zaman, and cease not thus doing till Allah shall vouchsafe relief to you twain. Think not, O King, that thou art safe from the shifts of Time and the strokes of Change which come like a traveller in the night; for the wise man is ever on his guard and how well saith the poet,
‘Thou deemedst well of Time when days went well,
And fearedst not what ills might bring thee Fate:
The Nights so fair and restful cozened thee,
For peaceful Nights bring woes of heavy weight.
Oh children of mankind whom Time befriends,
Beware of Time’s deceits or soon or late!’’’2
When the Sultan heard his Wazir’s words he saw that they were right and deemed his counsel wise, and it had effect upon him for he feared lest the order of the state be deranged; so he rose at once and bade transport his son from his sick room to the pavilion in the palace overlooking the sea. Now this palace was girt round by the waters and was approached by a causeway twenty cubits wide. It had windows on all sides commanding an ocean-view; its floor was paved with parti-coloured marbles and its ceiling was painted in the richest pigments and figured with gold and lapis-lazuli. They furnished it for Kamar al-Zaman with splendid upholstery, embroidered rugs and carpets of the richest silk; and they clothed the walls with choice brocades and hung curtains bespangled with gems of price. In the midst they set him a couch of juniper3-wood inlaid with pearls and jewels, and Kamar al-Zaman sat down thereon, but the excess of his concern and passion for the young lady had wasted his charms and emaciated his body; he could neither eat nor drink nor sleep; and he was like a man who had been sick twenty years of sore sickness. His father seated himself at his head, grieving for him with the deepest grief, and every Monday and Thursday he gave his Wazirs and Emirs and Chamberlains and Viceroys and Lords of the realm and levies and the rest of his lieges leave to come up to him in that pavilion. So they entered and did their several service and duties and abode with him till the end of the day, when they went their ways and the King returned to his son in the pavilion whom he left not night nor day; and he ceased not doing on this wise for many days and nights. Such was the case with Kamar al-Zaman, son of King Shahriman; but as regards Princess Budur, daughter of King Ghayur, Lord of the Isles and the Seven Palaces, when the two Jinns bore her up and laid her on her bed, she slept till daybreak, when she awoke and sitting upright looked right and left, but saw not the youth who had lain in her bosom. At this her vitals fluttered, her reason fled and she shrieked a loud shriek which awoke all her slave girls and nurses and duennas. They flocked in to her; and the chief of them came forward and asked, “What aileth thee, O my lady?” Answered the Princess, “O wretched old woman, where is my beloved, the handsome youth who lay last night in my bosom? Tell me whither he is gone.” Now when the duenna heard this, the light starkened in her sight and she feared from her mischief with sore affright, and said to her, “O my Lady Budur, what unseemly words are these?” Cried the Princess, “Woe to thee pestilent crone that thou art! I ask thee again where is my beloved, the goodly youth with the shining face and the slender form, the jetty eyes and the joined eyebrows, who lay with me last night from supper-tide until near daybreak?” She rejoined “By Allah, O my lady, I have seen no young man nor any other. I conjure thee, carry not this unseemly jest too far lest we all lose our lives; for perhaps the joke may come to thy father’s ears and who shall then deliver us from his hand?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Mr. Payne (iii. 133) omits the lines which are àpropos de rein and read much like “nonsense verses.” I retain them simply because they are in the text.
2 The first two couplets are the quatrain (or octave) in Night xxxv.
3 Arab. “Ar’ar,” the Heb. “Aroer,” which Luther and the A. V. translate “heath.” The modern Aramaic name is “Lizzáb” (Unexplored Syria. i. 68).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the duenna bespake the Lady Budur in these words, “Allah upon thee, O my lady! carry not this unseemly jest too far; for perhaps it may come to thy father’s ears, and who shall then deliver us from his hand?” The Princess rejoined, “In very sooth a youth lay with me last night, one of the fairest-faced of men.” Exclaimed the duenna, “Heaven preserve thy reason! indeed no one lay with thee last night.” Thereupon the Princess looked at her hand and, finding Kamar al-Zaman’s seal-ring on her finger in stead of her own, said to her, “Woe to thee, thou accursed! thou traitress! wilt thou lie to me and tell me that none lay with me last night and swear to me a falsehood in the name of the Lord?” Replied the duenna, “By Allah, I do not lie to thee nor have I sworn falsely.” Then the Princess was incensed by her words and, drawing a sword she had by her, she smote the old woman with it and slew her;1 whereupon the eunuch and the waiting-women and the concubines cried out at her, and ran to her father and, without stay or delay, acquainted him with her case. So the King went to her, and asked her, “O my daughter, what aileth thee?”; and she answered, “O my father, where is the youth who lay with me last night?” Then her reason fled from her head and she cast her eyes right and left and rent her raiment even to the skirt. When her sire saw this, he bade the women lay hands on her; so they seized her and manacled her, then putting a chain of iron about her neck, made her fast to one of the palace-windows and there left her.2 Thus far concerning Princess Budur; but as regards her father, King Ghayur, the world was straitened upon him when he saw what had befallen his daughter, for that he loved her and her case was not a little grievous to him. So he summoned on it the doctors and astrologers and men skilled in talisman-writing and said to them, “Whoso healeth my daughter of what ill she hath, I will marry him to her and give him half of my kingdom; but whoso cometh to her and cureth her not, I will strike off his head and hang it over her palace-gate.” Accordingly, all who went in to her, but failed to heal her, he beheaded and hung their heads over the palace-gates, till he had beheaded on her account forty doctors and crucified forty astrologers; wherefor the general held aloof from her, all the physicians having failed to medicine her malady; and her case was a puzzle to the men of science and the adepts in cabalistic characters. And as her longing and passion redoubled and love and distraction were sore upon her, she poured forth tears and repeated these couplets,
“My fondness, O my moon, for thee my foeman is,
And to thy comradeship the nights my thought compel:
In gloom I bide with fire that flames below my ribs,
Whose lowe I make comparison with heat of Hell:
I’m plagued with sorest stress of pine and ecstasy;
Nor clearest noon tide can that horrid pain dispel.”
Then she sighed and repeated these also,
“Salams fro’ me to friends in every stead;
Indeed to all dear friends do I incline:
Salams, but not salams that bid adieu;
Salams that growth of good for you design:
I love you dear, indeed, nor less your land,
But bide I far from every need of mine!”
And when the Lady Budur ceased repeating her poetry, she wept till her eyes waxed sore and her cheeks changed form and hue, and in this condition she continued three years. Now she had a foster-brother, by name Marzawán,3 who was travelling in far lands and absent from her the whole of this time. He loved her with an exceeding love, passing the love of brothers; so when he came back he went in to his mother and asked for his sister, the Princess Budur. She answered him, “O my son, thy sister hath been smitten with madness and hath passed these three years with a chain of iron about her neck; and all the physicians and men of science have failed of healing her.” When Marzawan heard these words he said, “I must needs go in to her; peradventure I may discover what she hath, and be able to medicine her;” and his mother replied, “Needs must thou visit her, but wait till to morrow, that I may contrive some thing to suit thy case.” Then she went a-foot to the palace of the Lady Budur and, accosting the eunuch in charge of the gates, made him a present and said to him, “I have a daughter, who was brought up with thy mistress and since then I married her; and, when that befel the Princess which befel her, she became troubled and sore concerned, and I desire of thy favour that my daughter may go in to her for an hour and look on her; and then return whence she came, so shall none know of it.” Quoth the eunuch, “This may not be except by night, after the King hath visited his child and gone away; then come thou and thy daughter.” So she kissed the eunuch’s hand and, returning home, waited till the morrow at nightfall; and when it was time she arose and sought her son Marzawan and attired him in woman’s apparel; then, taking his hand in hers, led him towards the palace, and ceased not walking with him till she came upon the eunuch after the Sultan had ended his visit to the Princess. Now when the eunuch saw her, he rose to her, and said, “Enter, but do not prolong thy stay!” So they went in and when Marzawan beheld the Lady Budur in the aforesaid plight, he saluted her, after his mother had doffed his woman’s garb: then he took out of their satchel books he had brought with him; and, lighting a wax-candle, he began to recite certain conjurations Thereupon the Princess looked at him and recognising him, said, “O my brother, thou hast been absent on thy travels’ and thy news have been cut off from us.” He replied, “True! but Allah hath brought me back safe and sound, I am now minded to set out again nor hath aught delayed me but the news I hear of thee; wherefore my heart burned for thee and I came to thee, so haply I may free thee of thy malady.” She rejoined, O my brother, thinkest thou it is madness aileth me?” “Yes.” answered he, and she said, “Not so, by Allah! ’tis even as saith the poet,
‘Quoth they ‘Thou rav’st on him thou lov’st’: quoth I,
‘The sweets of love are only for th’ insane!’
Love never maketh Time his friend befriend;
Only the Jinn-struck wight such boon can gain:
Well! yes, I’m mad: bring him who madded me
And, if he cure m: madness, blame restrain!’”
Then she let Marzawan know that she was love-daft and he said “Tell me concerning thy tale and what befel thee: haply there may be in my hand something which shall be a means of deliverance for thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of da, and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In the old version and the Bresl. Edit. (iii. 220) the Princess beats the “Kahramánah,” but does not kill her.
2 ‘This is still the popular Eastern treatment of the insane.
3 Pers. “Marz-bán” = Warden of the Marches, Margrave. The foster-brother in the East is held dear as, and often dearer than, kith and kin.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Marzawar thus addressed Princess Budur, “Tell me concerning thy tale and what befel thee: haply Allah may inspire me with a means of deliverance for thee.” Quoth she, “O my brother, hear my story which is this. One night I awoke from sleep, in the last third of the night1 and, sitting up, saw by my side the handsomest of youths that be, and tongue faileth to describe him, for he was as a willow-wand or an Indian rattan-cane. So methought it was my father who had done on this wise in order thereby to try me, for that he had consulted me concerning wedlock, when the Kings sought me of him to wife, and I had refused. It was this though withheld me from arousing him, for I feared that, if I did aught of embraced him, he would peradventure inform my father of m, doings. But in the morning, I found on my finger his seal-ring, in place of my own which he had taken. And, O my brother, m, heart was seized with love of him at first sight; and, for the violence of my passion and longing, I have never savoured the taste of sleep and have no occupation save weeping alway and repeating verses night and day. And this, O my brother, is my story and the cause of my madness.” Then she poured forth tears and repeated these couplets,
“Now Love hast banished all that bred delight;
With that heart-nibbling fawn my joys took flight:
Lightest of trifles lover’s blood to him
Who wastes the vitals of the hapless wight!
For him I’m jealous of my sight and thought;
My heart acts spy upon my thought and sight:
Those long-lashed eyelids rain on me their shafts
Guileful, destroying hearts where’er they light:
Now, while my portion in the world endures,
Shall I behold him ere I quit world-site?
What bear I for his sake I’d hide, but tears
Betray my feelings to the spy’s despight.
When near, our union seemeth ever far;
When far, my thoughts to him aye nearest are.”
And presently she continued, “See then, O my brother, how thou mayest aid me in mine affliction.” So Marzawan bowed his head ground-wards awhile, wondering and not knowing what to do, then he raised it and said to her, “All thou hast spoken to me I hold to be true, though the case of the young man pass my understanding: but I will go round about all lands and will seek for what may heal thee; haply Allah shall appoint thy healing to be at my hand. Meanwhile, take patience and be not disquieted.” Thereupon Marzawan farewelled her, praying that she might be constant and left her repeating these couplets,
“Thine image ever companies my sprite,
For all thou’rt distant from the pilgrim’s sight:
But my heart-wishes e’er attract thee near:
What is the lightning’s speed to Thought’s swift flight?
Then go not thou, my very light of eyes
Which, when thou’rt gone, lack all the Kohl of light.”
Then Marzawan returned to his mother’s house, where he passed the night. And when the morrow dawned, having equipped himself for his journey, he fared forth and ceased not faring from city to city and from island to island for a whole month, till he came to a town named Al–Tayrab.2 Here he went about scenting news of the townsfolk, so haply he might light on a cure for the Princess’s malady, for in every capital he entered or passed by, it was reported that Queen Budur, daughter of King Ghayur, had lost her wits. But arriving at Al–Tayrab city, he heard that Kamar al-Zaman, son of King Shahriman, was fallen sick and afflicted with melancholy madness. So Marzawan asked the name of the Prince’s capital and they said to him, “It is on the Islands of Khalidan and it lieth distant from our city a whole month’s journey by sea, but by land it is six months’ march.” So he went down to the sea in a ship which was bound for the Khalidan Isles, and she sailed with a favouring breeze for a whole month, till they came in sight of the capital; and there remained for them but to make the land when, behold, there came out on them a tempestuous wind which carried away the masts and rent the canvas, so that the sails fell into the sea and the ship capsized, with all on board — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the ship capsized with all on board, each sought his own safety; and as for Marzawan the set of the sea carried him under the King’s palace, wherein was Kamar al-Zaman. And by the decree of destiny it so happened that this was the day on which King Shahriman gave audience to his Grandees and high officers, and he was sitting, with his son’s head on his lap, whilst an eunuch fanned away the flies; and the Prince had not spoken neither had he eaten nor drunk for two days, and he was grown thinner than a spindle.1 Now the Wazir was standing respectfully a-foot near the latticed window giving on the sea and, raising his eyes, saw Marzawan being beaten by the billows and at his last gasp; whereupon his heart was moved to pity for him, so he drew near to the King and moving his head towards him said, “I crave thy leave, O King, to go down to the court of the pavilion and open the water-gate that I may rescue a man who is at the point of drowning in the sea and bring him forth of danger into deliverance; peradventure, on this account Allah may free thy son from what he hath!” The King replied, “O thou Wazir, enough is that which hath befallen my son through thee and on thine account. Haply, if thou rescue this drowning man, he will come to know our affairs, and look on my son who is in this state and exult over me; but I swear by Allah, that if this half-drowned wretch come hither and learn our condition and look upon my son and then fare forth and speak of our secrets to any, I will assuredly strike off thy head before his; for thou, O my Minister art the cause of all that hath betided us, first and last. Now do as thou wilt.” Thereupon the Wazir sprang up and, opening the private pastern which gave upon the sea, descended to the causeway; then walked on twenty steps and came to the water where he saw Marzawan nigh unto death. So he put out his hand to him and, catching him by his hair, drew him ashore in a state of insensibility, with belly full of water and eyes half out of his head. The Wazir waited till he came to himself, when he pulled off his wet clothes and clad him in a fresh suit, covering his head with one of his servants’ turbands; after which he said to him, Know that I have been the means of saving thee from drowning: do not thou requite me by causing my death and thine own.”—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Maghzal;” a more favourite comparison is with a tooth pick. Both are used by Nizami and Al–Hariri, the most “elegant” of Arab writers.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir did to Marzawan what he did, he thus addressed him Know that I have been the cause of saving thee from drowning so requite me not by causing my death and thine own.” Asked Marzawan, And how so?”; and the Wazir answered, “Thou art at this hour about to go up and pass among Emirs and Wazirs all of them silent and none speaking, because of Kamar al-Zaman the son of the Sultan.” Now when Marzawan heard the name of Kamar al-Zaman, he knew that this was he whom he had heard spoken of in sundry cities and of whom he came in search, but he feigned ignorance and asked the Wazir, “And who is Kamar al-Zaman? Answered the Minister, “He is the son of Sultan Shahriman and he is sore sick and lieth strown on his couch restless alway, eating not nor drinking neither sleeping night or day; indeed he is nigh upon death and we have lost hope of his living and are certain that he is dying. Beware lest thou look too long on him, or thou look on any other than that where thou settest thy feet: else thou art a lost man, and I also.” He replied, “Allah upon thee, O Wazir, I implore thee, of thy favour, acquaint me touching this youth thou describest, what is the cause of the condition in which he is.” The Wazir replied, “I know none, save that, three years ago, his father required him to wed, but he refused; whereat the King was wroth and imprisoned him. And when he awoke on the morrow, he fancied that during the night he had been roused from sleep and had seen by his side a young lady of passing loveliness, whose charms tongue can never express; and he assured us that he had plucked off her seal-ring from her finger and had put it on his own and that she had done likewise; but we know not the secret of all this business. So by Allah, O my son, when thou comest up with me into the palace, look not on the Prince, but go thy way; for the Sultan’s heart is full of wrath against me.” So said Marzawan to himself, “By Allah; this is the one I sought!” Then he followed the Wazir up to the palace, where the Minister seated himself at the Prince’s feet; but Marzawan found forsooth nothing to do but go up to Kamar al-Zaman and stand before him at gaze. Upon this the Wazir, died of affright in his skin, and kept looking at Marzawan and signalling him to wend his way; but he feigned not to see him and gave not over gazing upon Kamar al-Zaman, till he was well assured that it was indeed he whom he was seeking — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Marzawan looked upon Kamar al-Zaman and knew that it was indeed he whom he was seeking, he cried, “Exalted be Allah, Who hath made his shape even as her shape and his complexion as her complexion and his cheek as her cheek!’’ Upon this Kamar al-Zaman opened his eyes and gave earnest ear to his speech; and, when Marzawan saw him inclining to hear, he repeated these couplets1,
“I see thee full of song and plaint and love’s own ecstasy; Delighting in describing all the charms of loveliness:
Art smit by stroke of Love or hath shaft-shot wounded thee? None save the wounded ever show such signals of distress!
Ho thou! crown the wine cup and sing me singular Praises to Sulaymá, Al–Rabáb, Tan’oum addrest;2
Go round the grape-vine sun3 which for mansion hath a jar; Whose East the cup boy is, and here my mouth that opes for West.
I’m jealous of the very clothes that dare her sides enroll When she veils her dainty body of the delicatest grace:
I envy every goblet of her lips that taketh toll When she sets the kissing cup on that sweetest kissing-place.
But deem not by the keen-edged scymitar I’m slain — The hurts and harms I dree are from arrows of her eyes.
I found her finger tips, as I met her once again, Deep-reddened with the juice of the wood that ruddy dyes;4
And cried, ‘Thy palms thou stainedst when far away was I And this is how thou payest one distracted by his pine!’
Quoth she (enkindling in my heart a flame that burned high Speaking as one who cannot hide of longing love the sign),
‘By thy life, this is no dye used for dyeing; so forbear Thy blame, nor in charging me with falsing Love persist!
But when upon our parting-day I saw thee haste to fare, The while were bared my hand and my elbow and my wrist;
‘I shed a flood of blood-red tears and with fingers brushed away; Hence blood-reddened were the tips and still blood-red they
remain.’
Had I wept before she wept, to my longing-love a prey, Before repentance came, I had quit my soul of pain;
But she wept before I wept and I wept to see her care And I said, ‘All the merit to precedent;’5
Blame me not for loving her, now on self of Love I swear For her sake, for her only, these pains my soul torment.
She hath all the lere of Lukmán6 and Yúsuf’s beauty lief; Sweet singer David’s voice and Maryam’s chastity:
While I’ve all Jacob’s mourning and Jonah’s prison-grief, And the sufferings of Job and old Adam’s history:
Yet kill her not, albeit of my love for her I die; But ask her why my blood to her was lawful. ask her why?”
When Marzawan recited this ode, the words fell upon Kamar al- Zaman’s heart as freshness after fever and returning health; and he sighed and, turning his tongue in his mouth, said to his sire, “O my father, let this youth come and sit by my side.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These form a Kasídah, Ode or Elegy= rhymed couplets numbering more than thirteen: If shorter it is called a “Ghazal.” I have not thought it necessary to preserve the monorhyme.
2 Sulaymá dim. of Salmá= any beautiful woman Rabáb = the viol mostly single stringed: Tan’oum=she who is soft and gentle. These fictitious names are for his old flames.
3 i.e. wine. The distich is highly fanciful and the conceits would hardly occur to a
4 Arab. “Andam,” a term applied to Brazil-wood (also called “Bakkam”) and to “dragon’s blood,” but not, I think, to tragacanth, the “goat’s thorn,” which does not dye. Andam is often mentioned in The Nights.
5 The superior merit of the first (explorer, etc.) is a lieu commun with Arabs. So Al–Hariri in Preface quotes his predecessor:—
Justly of praise the price I pay;
The praise is his who leads the way.
6 There were two Lukmans, of whom more in a future page.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman said to his sire, “O my father, allow this youth to come and sit by my side.” Now when the King heard these words from his son, he rejoiced with exceeding joy, though at the first his heart had been set against Marzawan and he had determined that the stranger’s head needs must be stricken off: but when he heard Kamar al-Zaman speak, his anger left him and he arose and drawing Marzawan to him, seated him by his son and turning to him said, “Praised be Allah for thy safety!” He replied, “Allah preserve thee! and preserve thy son to thee!” and called down blessings on the King. Then the King asked, “From what country art thou?”; and he answered, “From the Islands of the Inland Sea, the kingdom of King Ghayur, Lord of the Isles and the Seas and the Seven Palaces.” Quoth King Shahriman, “Maybe thy coming shall be blessed to my son and Allah vouchsafe to heal what is in him.” Quoth Marzawan, “Inshallah, naught shall be save what shall be well!” Then turning to Kamar al-Zaman, he said to him in his ear unheard of the King and his court, ‘O my lord! be of good cheer, and hearten thy heart and let thine eyes be cool and clear and, with respect to her for whose sake thou art thus, ask not of her case on thine account. But thou keptest thy secret and fellest sick, while she told her secret and they said she had gone mad; so she is now in prison, with an iron chain about her neck, in most piteous plight; but, Allah willing, the healing of both of you shall come from my hand.” Now when Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, his life returned to him and he took heart and felt a thrill of joy and signed to his father to help him sit up; and the King was like to fly for gladness and rose hastily and lifted him up. Presently, of his fear for his son, he shook the kerchief of dismissal1; and all the Emirs and Wazirs withdrew; then he set two pillows for his son to lean upon, after which he bade them perfume the palace with saffron and decorate the city, saying to Marzawan, “By Allah, O my son, of a truth thine aspect be a lucky and a blessed!” And he made as much of him as he might and called for food, and when they brought it, Marzawan came up to the Prince and said, “Rise, eat with me.” So he obeyed him and ate with him, and all the while the King invoked blessings on Marzawan and said, “How auspicious is thy coming, O my son!” And when the father saw his boy eat, his joy and gladness redoubled, and he went out and told the Prince’s mother and all the household. Then he spread throughout the palace the good news of the Prince’s recovery and the King commanded the decoration of the city and it was a day of high festival. Marzawan passed that night with Kamar al-Zaman, and the King also slept with them in joy and delight for his son’s recovery. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This symbolic action is repeatedly mentioned in The Nights.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Shahriman also passed that night with them in the excess of his joy for his son’s recovery. And when the next morning dawned, and the King had gone away and the two young men were left alone, Kamar al-Zaman told his story from beginning to end to Marzawan who said, “In very sooth I know her with whom thou didst foregather; her name is the Princess Budur and she is daughter to King Ghayur.” Then he related to him all that had passed with the Princess from first to last and acquainted him with the excessive love she bore him, saying, “All that befel thee with thy father hath befallen her with hers, and thou art without doubt her beloved, even as she is thine; so brace up thy resolution and take heart, for I will bring thee to her and unite you both anon and deal with you even as saith the poet,
“Albe to lover adverse be his love,
And show aversion howso may he care;
Yet will I manage that their persons1 meet,
E’en as the pivot of a scissor pair.”
And he ceased not to comfort and solace and encourage Kamar al- Zaman and urged him to eat and drink till he ate food and drank wine, and life returned to him and he was saved from his ill case; and Marzawan cheered him and diverted him with talk and songs and stories, and in good time he became free of his disorder and stood up and sought to go to the Hammam.2 So Marzawan took him by the hand and both went to the bath, where they washed their bodies and made them clean. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar al-Zaman, son of King Shahriman, went to the Hammam, his father in his joy at this event freed the prisoners, and presented splendid dresses to his grandees and bestowed large alm-gifts upon the poor and bade decorate the city seven days. Then quoth Marzawan to Kamar al-Zaman, “Know, O my lord, that I came not from the Lady Budur save for this purpose, and the object of my journey was to deliver her from her present case; and it remaineth for us only to devise how we may get to her, since thy father cannot brook the thought of parting from thee. So it is my counsel that to-morrow thou ask his leave to go abroad hunting. Then do thou take with thee a pair of saddle-bags full of money and mount a swift steed, and lead a spare horse, and I will do the like, and say to thy sire, ‘I have a mind to divert myself with hunting the desert and to see the open country and there to pass one night.’ Suffer not any servant to follow us, for as soon as we reach the open country, we will go our ways.” Kamar al-Zaman rejoiced in this plan with great joy and cried, “It is good.” Then he stiffened his back and, going in to his father, sought his leave and spoke as he had been taught, and the King consented to his going forth a-hunting and said, “O my son, blessed be the day that restoreth thee to health! I will not gainsay thee in this; but pass not more than one night in the desert and return to me on the morrow; for thou knowest that life is not good to me without thee, and indeed I can hardly believe thee to be wholly recovered from what thou hadst,1 because thou art to me as he of whom quoth the poet,
‘Albe by me I had through day and night
Solomon’s carpet and the Chosroes’ might,
Both were in value less than wing of gnat,
Unless these eyne could hold thee aye in sight.’”2
Then the King equipped his son Kamar al-Zaman and Marzawan for the excursion, bidding make ready for them four horses, together with a dromedary to carry the money and a camel to bear the water and belly timber; and Kamar al-Zaman forbade any of his attendants to follow him. His father farewelled him and pressed him to his breast and kissed him, saying, “I ask thee in the name of Allah, be not absent from me more than one night, wherein sleep will be unlawful to me, for I am even as saith the poet,
‘Thou present, in the Heaven of heavens I dwell;
Bearing thine absence is of hells my Hell:
Pledged be for thee my soul! If love for thee
Be crime, my crime is of the fellest fell.
Does love-lowe burn thy heart as burns it mine,
Doomed night and day Gehenna-fire to smell?’”
Answered Kamar al-Zaman, “O my father, Inshallah, I will lie abroad but one night!” Then he took leave of him, and he and Marzawan mounted and leading the spare horses, the dromedary with the money and the camel with the water and victual, turned their faces towards the open country; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawning day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The words “malady” and “disease” are mostly avoided during these dialogues as ill-omened words which may bring on a relapse.
2 Solomon’s carpet of green silk which carried him and all his host through the air is a Talmudic legend generally accepted in Al–Islam though not countenanced by the Koran. chaps xxvii. When the “gnat’s wing” is mentioned, the reference is to Nimrod who, for boasting that he was lord of all, was tortured during four hundred years by a gnat sent by Allah up his ear or nostril.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman and Marzawan fared forth and turned their faces towards the open country; and they travelled from the first of the day till nightfall, when they halted and ate and drank and fed their beasts and rested awhile; after which they again took horse and ceased not journeying for three days, and on the fourth they came to a spacious tract wherein was a thicket. They alighted in it and Marzawan, taking the camel and one of the horses, slaughtered them and cut off their flesh and stripped their bones. Then he doffed from Kamar al-Zaman his shirt and trousers which he smeared with the horse’s blood and he took the Prince’s coat which he tore to shreds and befouled with gore; and he cast them down in the fork of the road. Then they ate and drank and mounting set forward again; and, when Kamar al — Zaman asked why this was done, and said, “What is this O my brother, and how shall it profit us?”; Marzawan replied, “Know that thy father, when we have outstayed the second night after the night for which we had his leave, and yet we return not, will mount and follow in our track till he come hither; and, when he happeneth upon this blood which I have spilt and he seeth thy shirt and trousers rent and gore-fouled, he will fancy that some accident befel thee from bandits or wild-beasts, so he will give up hope of thee and return to his city, and by this device we shall win our wishes.” Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, “By Allah, this be indeed a rare device! Thou hast done right well.’’1 Then the two fared on days and nights and all that while Kamar al-Zaman did naught but complain when he found himself alone, and he ceased not weeping till they drew near their journeys end, when he rejoiced and repeated these verses,
“Wilt tyrant play with truest friend who thinks of thee each
hour,
And after showing love-desire betray indifference? May I forfeit every favour if in love I falsed thee,
If thee I left, abandon me by way of recompense:
But I’ve been guilty of no crime such harshness to deserve,
And if I aught offended thee I bring my penitence;
Of Fortune’s wonders one it is thou hast abandoned me,
But Fortune never wearieth of showing wonderments.”
When he had made an end of his verses, Marzawan said to him, “Look! these be King Ghayur’s Islands;” whereat Kamar al-Zaman joyed with exceeding joy and thanked him for what he had done, and kissed him between the eyes and strained him — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The absolute want of morality and filial affection in the chaste young man is supposed to be caused by the violence of his passion, and he would be pardoned because he “loved much.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Marzawan said “Look! these be the Islands of King Ghayur;” Kamar al-Zaman joyed with exceeding joy and thanked him for what he had done and kissed him between the eyes and strained him to his bosom. And after reaching the Islands and entering the city they took up their lodging in a khan, where they rested three days from the fatigues of their wayfare; after which Marzawan carried Kamar al-Zaman to the bath and, clothing him in merchant’s gear, provided him with a geomantic tablet of gold,1 with a set of astrological instruments and with an astrolabe of silver, plated with gold. Then he said to him, “Arise, O my lord, and take thy stand under the walls of the King’s palace and cry out, ‘I am the ready Reckoner; I am the Scrivener; I am he who weeteth the Sought and the Seeker; I am the finished man of Science; I am the Astrologer accomplished in experience! Where then is he that seeketh?’ As soon as the King heareth this, he will send after thee and carry thee in to his daughter the Princess Budur, thy lover; but when about going in to her do thou say to him, ‘Grant me three days’ delay, and if she recover, give her to me to wife; and if not, deal with me as thou dealest with those who forewent me.’ He will assuredly agree to this, so as soon as thou art alone with her, discover thyself to her; and when she seeth thee, she will recover strength and her madness will cease from her and she will be made whole in one night. Then do thou give her to eat and drink. and her father, rejoicing in her recovery, will marry thee to her and share his kingdom with thee; for he hath imposed on himself this condition and so peace be upon thee.” Now when Kamar al-Zaman heard these words he exclaimed, “May I never lack thy benefits!”, and, taking the set of instruments aforesaid, sallied forth from the caravanserai in the dress of his order. He walked on till he stood under the walls of King Ghayur’s palace, where he began to cry out, saying, “I am the Scribe, I am the ready Reckoner, I am he who knoweth the Sought and the Seeker; I am he who openeth the Volume and summeth up the Sums;2 who Dreams can expound whereby the sought is found! Where then is the seeker?” Now when the city people heard this, they flocked to him, for it was long since they had seen Scribe or Astrologer, and they stood round him and, looking upon him, they saw one in the prime of beauty and grace and perfect elegance, and they marvelled at his loveliness, and his fine stature and symmetry. Presently one of them accosted him and said, “Allah upon thee, O thou fair and young, with the eloquent tongue! incur not this affray; nor throw thy life away in thine ambition to marry the Princess Budur. Only cast thine eyes upon yonder heads hung up; all their owners have lost their lives in this same venture.” Yet Kamar al-Zaman paid no heed to them, but cried out at the top of his voice, saying, “I am the Doctor, the Scrivener! I am the Astrologer, the Calculator!” And all the townsfolk forbade him from this, but he regarded them not at all, saying in his mind, “None knoweth desire save whoso suffereth it.” Then he began again to cry his loudest, shouting, “I am the Scrivener, I am the Astrologer!”— And Shahrazad per ceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 I have noticed the geomantic process in my “History of Sindh”
(chaps. vii.). It is called “Zarb al-Ram!” (strike the sand, the French say “frapper le sable”) because the rudest form
is to make on the ground dots at haphazard, usually in four lines one above the other: these are counted and, if
even-numbered, two are taken ( ); if odd one ( ); and thus the four lines will form a scheme say
This is repeated three times, producing the same number of figures; and then the combination is sought in an
explanatory table or, if the practitioner be expert, he pronounces off-hand. The Nights speak of a “Takht Raml” or a
board, like a schoolboy’s slate, upon which the dots are inked instead of points in sand. The moderns use a “Kura’h,”
or oblong die, upon whose sides the dots, odd and even, are marked; and these dice are hand-thrown to form the e
figure. By way of complication Geomancy is mixed up with astrology and then it becomes a most complicated kind of
ariolation and an endless study. “Napoleon’s Book of Fate,” a chap-book which appeared some years ago, was Geomancy in
its simplest and most ignorant shape. For the rude African form see my Mission to Dahome, i. 332, and for that of
Darfour, pp. 360–69 of Shaykh Mohammed’s Voyage before quoted.
2 Translators understand this of writing marriage contracts; I take it in a more general sense.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman in no wise heeded the words of the citizens, but continued to cry out, “I am the Calculator! I am the Astrologer!” Thereupon all the townsfolk were wroth with him and said to him, “Thou art nothing but an imbecile, silly, self-willed lad! Have pity on thine own youth and tender years and beauty and loveliness.” But he cried all the more, “I am the Astrologer, I am the Calculator! Is there any one that seeketh?” As he was thus crying and the people forbidding him, behold, King Ghayur heard his voice and the clamour of the lieges and said to his Wazir, “Go down and bring me yon Astrologer.” So the Wazir, went down in haste, and taking Kamar al-Zaman from the midst of the crowd led him up to the King; and when in the presence he kissed the ground and began versifying,
“Eight glories meet, all, all conjoined in thee,
Whereby may Fortune aye thy servant be:
Lere, lordliness, grace, generosity;
Plain words, deep meaning, honour, victory!”
When the King looked upon him, he seated him by his side and said to him, “By Allah, O my son, an thou be not an astrologer, venture not thy life nor comply with my condition; for I have bound myself that whoso goeth in to my daughter and healeth her not of that which hath befallen her I will strike off his head; but whoso healeth her him I will marry to her. So let not thy beauty and loveliness delude thee: for, by Allah! and again, by Allah! If thou cure her not, I will assuredly cut off thy head.” And Kamar al-Zaman replied, “This is thy right; and I consent, for I wot of this ere came I hither.” Then King Ghayur took the Kazis to witness against him and delivered him to the eunuch, saying, “Carry this one to the Lady Budur.” So the eunuch took him by the hand and led him along the passage; but Kamar al-Zaman outstripped him and pushed on before, whilst the eunuch ran after him, saying, “Woe to thee! Hasten not to thine own ruin: never yet saw I astrologer so eager for his proper destruction; but thou weetest not what calamities are before thee.” Thereupon Kamar al-Zaman turned away his face from the eunuch — And Shah razed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the eunuch thus addressed Kamar al-Zaman, “Patience, and no indecent hurry!”; the Prince turned away his face and began repeating these couplets,
“A Sage, I feel a fool before thy charms;
Distraught, I wot not what the words I say:
If say I ‘Sun,’ away thou dost not pass
From eyes of me, while suns go down with day:
Thou hast completed Beauty, in whose praise
Speech-makers fail, and talkers lose their way.”
Then the eunuch stationed Kamar al-Zaman behind the curtain of the Princess’s door and the Prince said to him, “Which of the two ways will please thee more, treat and cure thy lady from here or go in and heal her within the curtain?” The eunuch marvelled at his words and answered, “An thou heal her from here it were better proof of thy skill.” Upon this Kamar al-Zaman sat down behind the curtain and, taking out ink case, pen and paper, wrote the following:
“This is the writ of one whom passion swayeth,
and whom longing waylayeth
and wakeful misery slayeth
one who despaireth of living
and looketh for naught but dying
with whose mourning heart
nor comforter nor helper taketh part
One whose sleepless eyes
none succoureth from anxieties
whose day is passed in fire
and his night in torturing desire
whose body is wasted for much emaciation
and no messenger from his beloved bringeth him consolation.”
And after this he indited the following couplets,
“I write with heart devoted to thy thought,
And eyelids chafed by tears of blood they bled;
And body clad, by loving pine and pain,
In shirt of leanness, and worn down to thread,
To thee complain I of Love’s tormentry,
Which ousted hapless Patience from her stead:
A toi! show favour and some mercy deign,
For Passion’s cruel hands my vitals shred.”
And beneath his lines he wrote these cadenced sentences,
“The heart’s pain is removed
by union with the beloved
and whomso his lover paineth
only Allah assaineth!
If we or you have wrought deceit
may the deceiver win defeat!
There is naught goodlier than a lover who keeps faith
with the beloved who works him scathe.”
Then, by way of subscription, he wrote,
“From the distracted and despairing man
whom love and longing trepan
from the lover under passion’s ban
the prisoner of transport and distraction
from this Kamar al-Zaman
son of Shahriman
to the peerless one
of the fair Houris the pearl-union
to the Lady Budur
daughter of King Al Ghayur
Know thou that by night
I am sleepless
and by day in distress
consumed with increasing wasting and pain
and longing and love unfain
abounding in sighs
with tear flooded eyes
by passion captive
ta’en of Desire the slain
with heart seared by the parting of us twain
the debtor of longing bane, of sickness cup-companion
I am the sleepless one, who never closeth eye
the slave of love, whose tears run never dry
for the fire of my heart is still burning
and never hidden is the flame of my yearning.”
Then on the margin Kamar al-Zaman wrote this admired verse,
“Salem from graces hoarded by my Lord
To her, who holds my heart and soul in hoard!”
And also these,
“Pray’ee grant me some words from your lips, belike
Such mercy may comfort and cool these eyne:
From the stress of my love and my pine for you,
I make light of what makes me despised, indign:
Allah guard a folk whose abode was far,
And whose secret I kept in the holiest shrine:
Now Fortune in kindness hath favoured me
Thrown on threshold dust of this love o’ mine:
By me bedded I looked on Budúr, whose sun
The moon of my fortunes hath made to shine.”
Then, having affixed his seal-ring to the missive, he wrote these couplets in the place of address,
“Ask of my writ what wrote my pen in dole,
And hear my tale of misery from this scroll;
My hand is writing while my tears down flow,
And to the paper ‘plains my longing soul:
My tears cease not to roll upon this sheet,
And if they stopped I’d cause blood-gouts to roll.”
And at the end he added this other verse,
“I’ve sent the ring from off thy finger bore
I when we met, now deign my ring restore!”
Then Kamar al-Zaman set the Lady Budur’s ring inside the letter and sealed it and gave it to the eunuch, who took it and went in with it to his mistress. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman, after setting the seal-ring inside the epistle, gave it to the eunuch who took it and went in with it to his mistress; and, when the Lady Budur opened it, she found therein her own very ring. Then she read the paper and when she understood its purport and knew that it was from her beloved, and that he in person stood behind the curtain, her reason began to fly and her breast swelled for joy and rose high; and she repeated these couplets,
“Long, long have I bewailed the sev’rance of our loves,
With tears that from my lids streamed down like burning rain;
And vowed that, if the days deign reunite us two,
My lips should never speak of severance again:
Joy hath o’erwhelmed me so that, for the very stress
Of that which gladdens me to weeping I am fain.
Tears are become to you a habit, O my eyes,
So that ye weep as well for gladness as for pain.’’1
And having finished her verse, the Lady Budur stood up forthwith and, firmly setting her feet to the wall, strained with all her might upon the collar of iron, till she brake it from her neck and snapped the chains. Then going forth from behind the curtain she threw herself on Kamar al-Zaman and kissed him on the mouth, like a pigeon feeding its young.2 And she embraced him with all the stress of her love and longing and said to him, “O my lord do I wake or sleep and hath the Almighty indeed vouchsafed us reunion after disunion? Laud be to Allah who hath our loves repaired, even after we despaired!” Now when the eunuch saw her in this case, he went off running to King Ghayur and, kissing the ground before him, said, “O my lord, know that this Astrologer is indeed the Shaykh of all astrologers, who are fools to him, all of them; for verily he hath cured thy daughter while standing behind the curtain and without going in to her.” Quoth the King, “Look well to it, is this news true?” Answered the eunuch, “O my lord, rise and come and see for thyself how she hath found strength to break the iron chains and is come forth to the Astrologer, kissing and embracing him.” Thereupon the King arose and went in to his daughter who, when she saw him, stood up in haste and covered her head,3 and recited these two couplets,
“The toothstick love I not; for when I say,
‘Siwák,’4 I miss thee, for it sounds ‘Siwá-ka’.
The caper-tree I love; for when I say,
‘Arák’5 it sounds I look on thee, ‘Ará-ka.’”
Thereupon the King was so transported for joy at her recovery that he felt like to fly and kissed her between the eyes, for he loved her with dearest love; then, turning to Kamar al-Zaman, he asked him who he was, and said, “What countryman art thou?” So the Prince told him his name and rank, and informed him that he was the son of King Shahriman, and presently related to him the whole story from beginning to end; and acquainted him with what happened between himself and the Lady Budur; and how he had taken her seal-ring from her finger and had placed it on his own; whereat Ghayur marvelled and said, “Verily your story deserveth in books to be chronicled, and when you are dead and gone age after age be read.” Then he summoned Kazis and witnesses forthright and married the Lady Budur to Prince Kamar al-Zaman; after which he bade decorate the city seven days long. So they spread the tables with all manner of meats, whilst the drums beat and the criers anounced the glad tidings, and all the troops donned their richest clothes; and they illuminated the city and held high festival. Then Kamar al-Zaman went in to the Lady Budur and the King rejoiced in her recovery and in her marriage; and praised Allah for that He had made her to fall in love with a goodly youth of the sons of Kings. So they unveiled her and displayed the bride before the bridegroom; and both were the living likeness of each other in beauty and comeliness and grace and love-allurement. Then Kamar al-Zaman lay with her that night and took his will of her, whilst she in like manner fulfilled her desire of him and enjoyed his charms and grace; and they slept in each other’s arms till the morning. On the morrow, the King made a wedding-feast to which he gathered all comers from the Islands of the Inner and Outer Seas, and he spread the tables with choicest viands nor ceased the banquetting for a whole month. Now when Kamar al-Zaman had thus fulfilled his will and attained his inmost desire, and whenas he had tarried awhile with the Princess Budur, he bethought him of his father, King Shahriman, and saw him in a dream, saying, “O my son, is it thus thou dealest with me?” and recited in the vision these two couplets,
“Indeed to watch the darkness-moon he blighted me,
And to star-gaze through longsome night he plighted me:
Easy, my heart! for haply he’ll unite with thee;
And patience, Sprite! with whatso ills he dight to thee.”
Now after seeing his father in the dream and hearing his re preaches, Kamar al-Zaman awoke in the morning, afflicted and troubled, whereupon the Lady Budur questioned him and he told her what he had seen. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These lines are repeated from Night Ixxv.: with Mr. Payne’s permission I give his rendering (iii. 153) by way of variety.
2 The comparison is characteristically Arab.
3 Not her “face”: the head, and especially the back of the head, must always be kept covered, even before the father.
4 Arab. “Siwák”=a tooth-stick; “Siwá-ka”=lit. other than thou.
5 Arab. “Arák”=tooth stick of the wild caper-tree; “Ará-ka” lit.=I see thee. The capparis spinosa is a common desert-growth and the sticks about a span long (usually called Miswák), are sold in quantities at Meccah after being dipped in Zemzem water. In India many other woods are used, date-tree, Salvadora, Achyrantes, phyllanthus, etc. Amongst Arabs peculiar efficacy accompanies the tooth-stick of olive, “the tree springing from Mount Sinai” (Koran xxiii. 20); and Mohammed would use no other, because it prevents decay and scents the mouth. Hence Koran, chaps. xcv. 1. The “Miswák” is held with the unused end between the ring-finger and minimus, the two others grasp the middle and the thumb is pressed against the back close to the lips. These articles have long been sold at the Medical Hall near the “Egyptian Hall,” Piccadilly. They are better than our unclean tooth-brushes because each tooth gets its own especial rubbing’ not a general sweep; at the same time the operation is longer and more troublesome. In parts of Africa as well as Asia many men walk about with the tooth-stick hanging by a string from the neck.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar al-Zaman acquainted the Lady Budur with what he had seen in his dream, she and he went in to her sire and, telling him what had passed, besought his leave to travel. He gave the Prince the permission he sought; but the Princess said, “O my father, I cannot bear to be parted from him.” Quoth Ghayur, her sire, “Then go thou with him,” and gave her leave to be absent a whole twelvemonth and afterwards to visit him in every year once; so she kissed his hand and Kamar al-Zaman did the like. Thereupon King Ghayur proceeded to equip his daughter and her bridegroom for the journey, and furnished them with outfit and appointments for the march; and brought out of his stables horses marked with his own brand, blood-dromedaries1 which can journey ten days without water, and prepared a litter for his daughter, besides loading mules and camels with victual; moreover, he gave them slaves and eunuchs to serve them and all manner of travellinggear; and on the day of departure, when King Ghayur took leave of Kamar al-Zaman, he bestowed on him ten splendid suits of cloth of gold embroidered with stones of price, together with ten riding horses and ten she-camels, and a treasury of money;2 and he charged him to love and cherish his daughter the Lady Budur. Then the King accompanied them to the farthest limits of his Islands where, going in to his daughter Budur in the litter, he kissed her and strained her to his bosom, weeping and repeating,
“O thou who wooest Severance, easy fare!
For love-embrace belongs to lover-friend:
Fare softly! Fortune’s nature falsehood is,
And parting shall love’s every meeting end.”
Then leaving his daughter, he went to her husband and bade him farewell and kissed him; after which he parted from them and, giving the order for the march he returned to his capital with his troops. The Prince and Princess and their suite fared on without stopping through the first day and the second and the third and the fourth, nor did they cease faring for a whole month till they came to a spacious champaign, abounding in pasturage, where they pitched their tents; and they ate and drank and rested, and the Princess Budur lay down to sleep. Presently, Kamar al-Zaman went in to her and found her lying asleep clad in a shift of apricot-coloured silk that showed all and everything; and on her head was a coif of gold-cloth embroidered with pearls and jewels. The breeze raised her shift which laid bare her navel and showed her breasts and displayed a stomach whiter than snow, each one of whose dimples would contain an ounce of benzoin-ointment.3 At this sight, his love and longing redoubled, and he began reating,
“An were it asked me when by hell-fire burnt,
When flames of heart my vitals hold and hem,
‘Which wouldst thou chose, say wouldst thou rather them,
Or drink sweet cooling draught?’ I’d answer, ‘Them!’ ”
Then he put his hand to the band of her petticoat-trousers and drew it and loosed it, for his soul lusted after her, when he saw a jewel, red as dye-wood, made fast to the band. He untied it and examined it and, seeing two lines of writing graven thereon, in a character not to be read, marvelled and said in his mind, “Were not this bezel something to her very dear she had not bound it to her trousers-band nor hidden it in the most privy and precious place about her person, that she might not be parted from it. Would I knew what she cloth with this and what is the secret that is in it.” So saying, he took it and went outside the tent to look at it in the light — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The “Mehari,” of which the Algerine–French speak, are the dromedaries bred by the Mahrah tribe of Al–Yaman, the descendants of Mahrat ibn Haydan. They are covered by small wild camels (?) called Al-Húsh, found between Oman and Al–Shihr: others explain the word to mean “stallions of the Jinns “ and term those savage and supernatural animals, “Najáib al-Mahriyah”-nobles of the Mahrah.
2 Arab. “Khaznah”=a thousand purses; now about £5000. It denotes a large sum of money, like the “Badrah,” a purse containing 10,000 dirhams of silver (Al–Hariri), or 80,000 (Burckhardt Prov. 380); whereas the “Nisáb” is a moderate sum of money, gen. 20 gold dinars=200 silver dirhams.
3 As The Nights show, Arabs admire slender forms; but the hips and hinder cheeks must be highly developed and the stomach fleshy rather than lean. The reasons are obvious. The Persians who exaggerate everything say e.g. (Husayn Váiz in the Anvár-i-Suhayli):—
How paint her hips and waist? Who saw
A mountain (Koh) dangling to a straw (káh)?
In Antar his beloved Abla is a tamarisk (T. Orientalis). Others compare with the palm-tree (Solomon), the Cypress (Persian, esp. Hafiz and Firdausi) and the Arák or wild Capparis (Arab.).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when he took the bezel to look at it in the light, the while he was holding it behold, a bird swooped down on him and, snatching the same from his hand, flew off with it and then lighted on the ground. There-upon Kamar al-Zaman fearing to lose the jewel, ran after the bird; but it flew on before him, keeping just out of his reach, and ceased not to draw him on from dale to dale and from hill to hill, till the night starkened and the firmament darkened, when it roosted on a high tree. So Kamar al-Zaman stopped under the tree confounded in thought and faint for famine and fatigue, and giving himself up for lost, would have turned back, but knew not the way whereby he came, for that darkness had overtaken him. Then he exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious the Great!”; and laying him down under the tree (whereon was the bird) slept till the morning, when he awoke and saw the bird also wake up and fly away. He arose and walked after it, and it flew on little by little before him, after the measure of his faring; at which he smiled and said, “By Allah, a strange thing! Yesterday, this bird flew before me as fast as I could run, and to-day, knowing that I have awoke tired and cannot run, he flieth after the measure of my faring. By Allah, this is wonderful! But I must needs follow this bird whether it lead me to death or to life; and I will go wherever it goeth, for at all events it will not abide save in some inhabited land.1 So he continued to follow the bird which roosted every night upon a tree; and he ceased not pursuing it for a space of ten days, feeding on the fruits of the earth and drinking of its waters. At the end of this time, he came in sight of an inhabited city, whereupon the bird darted off like the glance of the eye and, entering the town, disappeared from Kamar al-Zaman, who knew not what it meant or whither it was gone; so he marvelled at this and exclaimed, “Praise be to Allah who hath brought me in safety to this city!” Then he sat down by a stream and washed his hands and feet and face and rested awhile; and, recalling his late easy and pleasant life of union with his beloved and contrasting it with his present plight of trouble and fatigue and distress and strangerhood and famine and severance, the tears streamed from his eyes and he began repeating these cinquains,
“Pain had I hid thy handwork, but it showed,
Changed sleep for wake, and wake with me abode:
When thou didst spurn my heart I cried aloud
Pate, hold thy hand and cease to gird and goad:
In dole and danger aye my sprite I spy!
An but the Lord of Love were just to me,
Sleep fro’ my eyelids ne’er were forced to flee.
Pity, my lady, one for love o’ thee
Prom his tribes darling brought to low degree:
Love came and doomed Wealth beggar-death to die.
The railers chide at thee: I ne’er gainsay,
But stop my ears and dumbly sign them Nay:
‘Thou lov’st a slender may,’ say they; I say,
‘I’ve picked her out and cast the rest away:’
Enough; when Fate descends she blinds man’s eye!”2
And as soon as he had finished his poetry and had taken his rest, he rose and walked on little by little, till he entered the city. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Ubi aves ibi angel). All African travellers know that a few birds flying about the bush, and a few palm-trees waving in the wind, denote the neighbourhood of a village or a camp (where angels are scarce). The reason is not any friendship for man but because food, animal and vegetable, is more plentiful Hence Albatrosses, Mother Carey’s (Mater Cara, the Virgin) chickens, and Cape pigeons follow ships.
2 The stanza is called Al–Mukhammas=cinquains; the quatrains and the “bob,” or “burden” always preserve the same consonance. It ends with a Koranic lieu commun of Moslem morality.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that as soon as Kamar al-Zaman had finished his poetry and had taken his rest, he arose and entered the city-gate1 not knowing whither he should wend. He crossed the city from end to end, entering by the land-gate, and ceased not faring on till he came out at the sea-gate, for the city stood on the sea-shore. Yet he met not a single one of its citizens. And after issuing from the land-gate he fared forwards and ceased not faring till he found himself among the orchards and gardens of the place; and, passing among the trees presently came to a garden and stopped before its door; where-upon the keeper came out to him and saluted him. The Prince returned his greeting and the gardener bade him welcome, saying, “Praised be Allah that thou hast come off safe from the dwellers of this city! Quick, come into the garth, ere any of the townfolk see thee.” Thereupon Kamar al-Zaman entered that garden, wondering in mind, and asked the keeper, “What may be the history of the people of this city and who may they be?” The other answered, “Know that the people of this city are all Magians: but Allah upon thee, tell me how thou camest to this city and what caused thy coming to our capital.” Accordingly Kamar al-Zaman told the gardener all that had befallen him from beginning to end, whereat he marvelled with great marvel and said, “Know, O my son, that the cities of Al–Islam lie far from us; and between us and them is a four months’ voyage by sea and a whole twelve months’ journey by land. We have a ship which saileth every year with merchandise to the nearest Moslem country and which entereth the seas of the Ebony Islands and thence maketh the Khalidan Islands, the dominions of King Shahriman.” Thereupon Kamar al-Zaman considered awhile and concluded that he could not do better than abide in the garden with the gardener and become his assistant, receiving for pay one fourth of the produce. So he said to him, “Wilt thou take me into thy service, to help thee in this garden?” Answered the gardener, “To hear is to consent;” and began teaching him to lead the water to the roots of the trees. So Kamar al-Zaman abode with him, watering the trees and hoeing up the weeds and wearing a short blue frock which reached to his knees. And he wept floods of tears; for he had no rest day or night, by reason of his strangerhood and he ceased not to repeat verses upon his beloved, amongst others the following couplets,
“Ye promised us and will ye not keep plight?
Ye said a say and shall not deed be dight?
We wake for passion while ye slumber and sleep;
Watchers and wakers claim not equal right:
We vowed to keep our loves in secrecy,
But spake the meddler and you spoke forthright:
O friend in pain and pleasure, joy and grief,
In all case you, you only, claim my sprite!
Mid folk is one who holds my prisoned heart;
Would he but show some ruth for me to sight.
Not every eye like mine is wounded sore,
Not every heart like mine love-pipings blight:
Ye wronged me saying, Love is wrongous aye
Yea! ye were right, events have proved that quite.
Forget they one love-thralled, whose faith the world
Robs not, though burn the fires in heart alight:
If an my foeman shall become my judge,
Whom shall I sue to remedy his despight?
Had not I need of love nor love had sought,
My heart forsure were not thus love-distraught.”
Such was the case with Kamar al-Zaman; but as regards his wife, the Lady Budur, when she awoke she sought her husband and found him not: then she saw her petticoat-trousers undone, for the band had been loosed and the bezel lost, whereupon she said to herself, “By Allah, this is strange! Where is my husband? It would seem as if he had taken the talisman and gone away, knowing not the secret which is in it. Would to Heaven I knew whither can he have wended! But it must needs have been some extraordinary matter that drew him away, for he cannot brook to leave me a moment. Allah curse the stone and damn its hour!” Then she considered awhile and said in her mind, “If I go out and tell the varlets and let them learn that my husband is lost they will lust after me: there is no help for it but that I use stratagem. So she rose and donned some of her husband’s clothes and riding- boots, and a turband like his, drawing one corner of it across her face for a mouth-veil.2 Then, setting a slave-girl in her litter, she went forth from the tent and called to the pages who brought her Kamar al-Zaman’s steed; and she mounted and bade them load the beasts and resume the march. So they bound on the burdens and departed; and she concealed her trick, none doubting but she was Kamar al-Zaman, for she favoured him in face and form; nor did she cease journeying, she and her suite, days and nights, till they came in sight of a city overlooking the Salt Sea, where they pitched their tents without the walls and halted to rest. The Princess asked the name of the town and was told, “It is called the City of Ebony; its King is named Armanús, and he hath a daughter Hayát al-Nufús3 hight,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Moslem port towns usually have (or had) only two gates. Such was the case with Bayrut, Tyre, Sidon and a host of others; the faubourg-growth of modern days has made these obsolete. The portals much resemble the entrances of old Norman castles — Arques for instance. (Pilgrimage i. 185.)
2 Arab. “Lisám”; before explained.
3 i.e. Life of Souls (persons, etc.).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Lady Budur halted within sight of the Ebony City to take her rest, King Armanus sent a messenger, to learn what King it was who had encamped without his capital; so the messenger, coming to the tents, made inquiry anent their King, and was told that she was a King’s son who had lost the way being bound for the Khalidan Islands; whereupon he returned to King Armanus with the tidings; and, when the King heard them, he straightway rode out with the lords of his land to greet the stranger on arrival. As he drew near the tents the Lady Budur came to meet him on foot, whereupon the King alighted and they saluted each other. Then he took her to the city and, bringing her up to the palace, bade them spread the tables and trays of food and commanded them to transport her company and baggage to the guess house. So they abode there three days; at the end of which time the King came in to the Lady Budur. Now she had that day gone to the Hammam and her face shone as the moon at its full, a seduction to the world and a rending of the veil of shame to mankind; and Armanus found her clad in a — suit of silk, embroidered with gold and jewels; so he said to her, ‘O my son, know that I am a very old man, decrepit withal, and Allah hath blessed me with no child save one daughter, who resembleth thee in beauty and grace; and I am now waxed unfit for the conduct of the state. She is thine, O my son; and, if this my land please thee and thou be willing to abide and make thy home here, I will marry thee to her and give thee my kingdom and so be at rest.” When Princess Budur heard this, she bowed her head and her forehead sweated for shame, and she said to herself. “How shall I do, and I a woman? If I refuse and depart from him, I cannot be safe but that haply send after me troops to slay me; and if I consent, belike I shall be put to shame. I have lost my beloved Kamar al-Zaman and know not what is become of him; nor can I escape from this scrape save by holding my peace and consenting and abiding here, till Allah bring about what is to be.” So she raised her head and made submission to King Armanus, saying, “Hearkening and obedience!”; whereat he rejoiced and bade the herald make proclamation throughout the Ebony Islands to hold high festival and decorate the houses. Then he assembled his Chamberlains and Nabobs, and Emirs and Wazirs and his officers of state and the Kazis of the city; and, formally abdicating his Sultanate, endowed Budur therewith and invested her in all the vestments of royalty. The Emirs and Grandees went in to her and did her homage, nothing doubting but that she was a young man, and all who looked on her bepissed their bag-trousers, for the excess of her beauty and loveliness. Then, after the Lady Budur had been made Sultan and the drums had been beaten in announcement of the glad event, and she had been ceremoniously enthroned, King Armanus proceeded to equip his daughter Hayat al-Nufus for marriage, and in a few days, they brought the Lady Budur in to her, when they seemed as it were two moons risen at one time or two suns in conjunction. So they entered the bridal-chamber and the doors were shut and the curtains let down upon them, after the attendants had lighted the wax-candles and spread for them the carpet-bed. When Budur found herself alone with the Princess Hayat al-Nufus, she called to mind her beloved Kamar al-Zaman and grief was sore upon her. So she wept for his absence, and estrangement and she began repeating,
“O ye who fled and left my heart in pain low li’en,
No breath of life if found within this frame of mine:
I have an eye which e’er complains of wake, but lo!
Tears occupy it would that wake content these eyne!
After ye marched forth the lover ‘bode behind;
Question of him what pains your absence could design!
But for the foods of tears mine eyelids rail and rain,
My fires would flame on high and every land calcine.
To Allah make I moan of loved ones lost for aye,
Who for my pine and pain no more shall pain and pine:
I never wronged them save that over love I nurst:
But Love departs us lovers into blest and curst.”
And when she had finished her repeating, the Lady Budur sat down beside the Princess Hayat al-Nufus and kissed her on the mouth; after which rising abruptly, she made the minor ablution and betook herself to her devotions; nor did she leave praying till Hayat al-Nufus fell asleep, when she slips into bed and lay with her back to her till morning. And when day had broke the King and Queen came in to their daughter and asked her how she did. whereupon she told them what she had seen, and repeated to them the verses she had heard. Thus far concerning Hayat al-Nufus and her father; but as regards Queen Budur she went forth and seated herself upon the royal throne and all the Emirs and Captains and Officers of state came up to her and wished her joy of the kingship, kissing the earth before her and calling down blessings upon her. And she accosted them with smiling face and clad them in robes of honour, augmenting the fiefs of the high officials and giving largesse to the levies; wherefore all the people loved her and offered up prayers for the long endurance of her reign, doubting not but that she was a man. And she ceased not sitting all day in the hall of audience, bidding and forbidding; dispensing justice, releasing prisoners and remitting the customs-dues, till nightfall, when she withdrew to the apartment prepared for her. Here she found Hayat al-Nufus seated, so she sat down by her side and, clapping her on the back, coaxed and caressed her and kissed her between the eyes, and fell to versifying in these couplets,
“What secret kept I these my tears have told,
And my waste body must my love unfold:
Though hid my pine, my plight on parting day
To every envious eye my secret sold:
O ye who broke up camp, you’ve left behind
My spirit wearied and my heart a-cold:
In my hearts core ye dwell, and now these eyne
Roll blood-drops with the tears they whilome rolled:
The absent will I ransom with my soul;
All can my yearning for their sight behold:
I have an eye whose babe,1 for love of thee,
Rejected sleep nor hath its tears controlled.
The foeman bids me patient bear his loss,
Ne’er may mine ears accept the ruth he doled!
I tricks their deme of me, and won my wish
Of Kamar al-Zaman’s joys manifold:
He joins all perfect gifts like none before,
Boasted such might and main no King of old:
Seeing his gifts, Bin Zá‘idah’s2 largesse
Forget we, and Mu’áwiyah mildest-soul’d:3
Were verse not feeble and o’er short the time
I had in laud of him used all of rhyme.”
Then Queen Budur stood up and wiped away her tears and, making the lesser ablution,4 applied her to pray: nor did she give over praying till drowsiness overcame the Lady Hayat al-Nufus and she slept, whereupon the Lady Budur came and lay by her till the morning. At daybreak, she arose and prayed the dawn-prayer; and presently seated herself on the royal throne and passed the day in ordering and counter ordering and giving laws and administering justice. This is how it fared with her; but as regards King Armanus he went in to his daughter and asked her how she did; so she told him all that had befallen her and repeated to him the verses which Queen Budur had recited, adding, “O my father, never saw I one more abounding in sound sense and modesty than my husband, save that he cloth nothing but weep and sigh.” He answered, “O my daughter, have patience with him yet this third night, and if he go not in unto thee and do away thy maidenhead, we shall know how to proceed with him and oust him from the throne and banish him the country.” And on this wise he agreed with his daughter what course he would take. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Insánu-há”=her (i.e. their) man: i.e. the babes of the eyes: the Assyrian Ishon, dim. of Ish=Man; which the Hebrews call “Bábat” or “Bit” (the daughter) the Arabs “Bubu (or Hadakat) al-Aye”; the Persians “Mardumak-i-chashm” (mannikin of the eye); the Greeks {Greek text} and the Latins pupa, pupula, pupilla. I have noted this in the Lyricks of Camoens (p. 449).
2 Ma’an bin Zá‘idah, a soldier and statesman of the eighth century.
3 The mildness of the Caliph Mu’áwiyah, the founder of the Ommiades, proverbial among the Arabs, much resembles the “meekness” of Moses the Law-giver, which commentators seem to think has been foisted into Numbers xii. 3.
4 Showing that there had been no consummation of the marriage which would have demanded “Ghusl,” or total ablution, at home or in the Hammam.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Armanus had agreed with his daughter on this wise and had determined what course he would take and night came on, Queen Budur arose from the throne of her kingdom and betaking herself to the palace, entered the apartment prepared for her. There she found the wax-candles lighted and the Princess Hayat al-Nufus seated and awaiting her; whereupon she bethought her of her husband and what had betided them both of sorrow and severance in so short a space; she wept and sighed and groaned groan upon groan, and began improvising these couplets,
“News of my love fill all the land, I swear,
As suns on Ghazá1-wold rain heat and glare:
Speaketh his geste but hard its sense to say;
Thus never cease to grow my cark and care:
I hate fair Patience since I loved thee;
E’er sawest lover hate for love to bear?
A glance that dealt love-sickness dealt me death,
Glances are deadliest things with torments rare:
He shook his love locks down and bared his chin,
Whereby I spied his beauties dark and fair:
My care, my cure are in his hands; and he
Who caused their dolour can their dole repair:
His belt went daft for softness of his waist;
His hips, for envy, to uprise forbear:
His brow curl-diademed is murky night;
Unveil ‘t and lo! bright Morn shows brightest light.”
When she had finished her versifying, she would have risen to pray, but, lo and behold! Hayat al-Nufus caught her by the skirt and clung to her saying, “O my lord, art thou not ashamed before my father, after all his favour, to neglect me at such a time as this?” When Queen Budur heard her words, she sat down in the same place and said, “O my beloved, what is this thou sayest?” She replied, “What I say is that I never saw any so proud of himself as thou. Is every fair one so disdainful? I say not this to incline thee to me; I say it only of my fear for thee from King Armanus; because he purposeth, unless thou go in unto me this very night, and do away my maidenhead, to strip thee of the kingship on the morrow and banish thee his kingdom; and peradventure his excessive anger may lead him to slay thee. But I, O my lord, have ruth on thee and give thee fair warning; and it is thy right to reck.”2 Now when Queen Budur heard her speak these words, she bowed her head ground-wards awhile in sore perplexity and said in herself, “If I refuse I’m lost; and if I obey I’m shamed. But I am now Queen of all the Ebony Islands and they are under my rule, nor shall I ever again meet my Kamar al-Zaman save in this place; for there is no way for him to his native land but through the Ebony Islands. Verily, I know not what to do in my present case, but I commit my care to Allah who directeth all for the best, for I am no man that I should arise and open this virgin girl.” Then quoth Queen Budur to Hayat al- Nufus, “O my beloved, that I have neglected thee and abstained from thee is in my own despite.” And she told her her whole story from beginning to end and showed her person to her, saying, “I conjure thee by Allah to keep my counsel, for I have concealed my case only that Allah may reunite me with my beloved Kamar al-Zaman and then come what may.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Lady Budur acquainted Hayat al-Nufus with her history and bade her keep it secret, the Princess heard her with extreme wonderment and was moved to pity and prayed Allah to reunite her with her beloved, saying, “Fear nothing, O my sister; but have patience till Allah bring to pass that which must come to pass:” and she began repeating,
“None but the men of worth a secret keep; With worthy men a secret’s hidden deep; As in a room, so secrets lie with me, Whose door is sealed, lock shot and lost the key.”1
And when Hayat al-Nufus had ended her verses, she said, “O my sister, verily the breasts of the noble and brave are of secrets the grave; and I will not discover thine.” Then they toyed and embraced and kissed and slept till near the Mu’ezzin’s call to dawn prayer, when Hayat al-Nufus arose and took a pigeon-poult,2 and cut its throat over her smock and besmeared herself with its blood. Then she pulled off her petticoat-trousers and cried aloud, where-upon her people hastened to her and raised the usual lullilooing and outcries of joy and gladness. Presently her mother came in to her and asked her how she did and busied herself about her and abode with her till evening; whilst the Lady Budur arose with the dawn, and repaired to the bath and, after washing herself pure, proceeded to the hall of audience, where she sat down on her throne and dispensed justice among the folk. Now when King Armanus heard the loud cries of joy, he asked what was the matter and was informed of the consummation of his daughter’s marriage; whereat he rejoiced and his breast swelled with gladness and he made a great marriage-feast whereof the merry-making lasted a long time. Such was their case: but as regards King Shahriman it was on this wise. After his son had fared forth to the chase accompanied by Marzawan, as before related, he tarried patiently awaiting their return at nightfall; but when his son did not appear he passed a sleepless night and the dark hours were longsome upon him; his restlessness was excessive, his excitement grew upon him and he thought the morning would never dawn. Anc when day broke he sat expecting his son and waited till noon, but he came not; whereat his heart forebode separation and was fired with fears for Kamar al-Zaman; and he cried, “Alas! my son!” and he wept till his clothes were drenched with tears, and repeated with a beating heart,
“Love’s votaries I ceased not to oppose,
Till doomed to taste Love’s bitter and Love’s sweet:
I drained his rigour-cup to very dregs,
Self humbled at its slaves’ and freemen’s feet:
Fortune had sworn to part the loves of us;
She kept her word how truly, well I weet!”
And when he ended his verse, he wiped away his tears and bade his troops make ready for a march and prepare for a long expedition. So they all mounted and set forth, headed by the Sultan, whose heart burnt with grief and was fired with anxiety for his son Kamar al-Zaman; and they advanced by forced marches. Now the King divided his host into six divisions, a right wing and a left wing, a vanguard and a rear guard;3 and bade them rendezvous for the morrow at the cross-roads. Accordingly they separated and scoured the country all the rest of that day till night, and they marched through the night and at noon of the ensuing day they joined company at the place where four roads met. But they knew not which the Prince followed, till they saw the sign of torn clothes and sighted shreds of flesh and beheld blood still sprinkled by the way and they noted every piece of the clothes and fragment of mangled flesh scattered on all sides. Now when King Shahriman saw this, he cried from his heart-core a loud cry, saying, “Alas, my son!”; and buffeted his face and plucks his beard and rent his raiment, doubting not but his son was dead. Then he gave himself up to excessive weeping and wailing, and the troops also wept for his weeping, all being assured that Prince Kamar al-Zaman had perished. They threw dust on their heads, and the night surprised them shedding tears and lamenting till they were like to die. Then the King with a heart on fire and with burning sighs spake these couplets,
“Chide not the mourner for bemourning woe;
Enough is yearning every Ill to show:
He weeps for stress of sorrow and of pain,
And these to thee best evidence his lowe:
Happy!4 of whom Love sickness swore that ne’er
Should cease his eye lids loving tears to flow:
He mourns the loss of fairest, fullest Moon,
Shining o’er all his peers in glorious glow:
But death made drink a brimming cup, what day
He fared from natal country fain to go:
His home left he and went from us to grief;
Nor to his brethren could he say adieu:
Yea, his loss wounded me with parting pangs,
And separation cost me many a throe:
He fared farewelling, as he fared, our eyes;
Whenas his Lord vouch-safed him Paradise.”
And when King Shahriman had ended his verses, he returned with the troops to his capital — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This quatrain occurs in Night ix.: I have borrowed from Torrens (p. 79) by way of variety.
2 The belief that young pigeon’s blood resembles the virginal discharge is universal; but the blood most resembling man’s is that of the pig which in other points is so very human. In our day Arabs and Hindus rarely submit to inspection the nuptial sheet as practiced by the Israelites and Persians. The bride takes to bed a white kerchief with which she staunches the blood and next morning the stains are displayed in the Harem. In Darfour this is done by the bridegroom. “Prima Venus debet esse cruenta,” say the Easterns with much truth, and they have no faith in our complaisant creed which allows the hymen-membrane to disappear by any but one accident.
3 Not meaning the two central divisions commanded by the King and his Wazir.
4 Ironicè.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Shahriman had ended his verses, he returned with the troops to his capital, giving up his son for lost, and deeming that wild beasts or banditti had set upon him and torn him to pieces; and made proclamation that all in the Khalidan Islands should don black in mourning for him. Moreover, he built, in his memory, a pavilion, naming it House of Lamentations; and on Mondays and Thursdays he devoted himself to the business of the state and ordering the affairs of his levies and lieges; and the rest of the week he was wont to spend in the House of Lamentations, mourning for his son and bewailing him with elegiac verses,1 of which the following are some:—
“My day of bliss is that when thou appearest;
My day of bale2 is that whereon thou farest:
Though through the night I quake in dread of death;
Union wi’ thee is of all bliss the dearest.”
And again he said,
“My soul be sacrifice for one, whose going
Afflicted hearts with sufferings sore and dread:
Let joy her widowed term3 fulfil, for I
Divorced joy with the divorce thrice-said.”4
Such was the case with King Shahriman; but as regards Queen Budur daughter of King Ghayur, she abode as ruler in the Ebony Islands, whilst the folk would point to her with their fingers, and say, “Yonder is the son-in-law of King Armanus.” And every night she lay with Hayat al-Nufus, to whom she lamented her desolate state and longing for her husband Kamar al-Zaman; weeping and describing to her his beauty and loveliness, and yearning to enjoy him though but in a dream: And at times she would repeat,
“Well Allah wots that since my severance from thee,
I wept till forced to borrow tears at usury:
‘Patience!’ my blamer cried, ‘Heartsease right soon shalt see!’
Quoth I, ‘Say, blamer, where may home of Patience be?’”
This is how it fared with Queen Budur; but as regards Kamar al- Zaman, he abode with the gardener in the garden for no short time, weeping night and day and repeating verses bewailing the past time of enjoyment and delight; whilst the gardener kept comforting him and assuring him that the ship would set sail for the land of the Moslems at the end of the year. And in this condition he continued till one day he saw the folk crowding together and wondered at this; but the gardener came in to him and said, “O my son, give over work for this day nor lead water to the trees; for it is a festival day, whereon folk visit one another. So take thy rest and only keep thine eye on the garden, whilst I go look after the ship for thee; for yet but a little while and I send thee to the land of the Moslems.” Upon this, he went forth from the garden leaving to himself Kamar al-Zaman, who fell to musing upon his case till his heart was like to break and the tears streamed from his eyes. So he wept with excessive weeping till he swooned away and, when he recovered, he rose and walked about the garden, pondering what Time had done with him and bewailing the long endurance of his estrangement and separation from those he loved. As he was thus absorbed in melancholy thought, his foot stumbled and he fell on his face, his forehead striking against the projecting root of a tree; and the blow cut it open and his blood ran down and mingled with his tears Then he rose and, wiping away the blood, dried his tears and bound his brow with a piece of rag; then continued his walk about the garden engrossed by sad reverie. Presently, he looked up at a tree and saw two birds quarrelling thereon, and one of them rose up and smote the other with its beak on the neck and severed from its body its head, wherewith it flew away, whilst the slain bird fell to the ground before Kamar al-Zaman. As it lay, behold, two great birds swooped down upon it alighting, one at the head and the other at the tail, and both drooped their wings and bowed their bills over it and, extending their necks towards it, wept. Kamar al-Zaman also wept when seeing the birds thus bewail their mate, and called to mind his wife and father, And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Rasy”=praising in a funeral sermon.
2 Arab. “Manáyá,” plur. of “Maniyat” = death. Mr. R. S. Poole (the Academy, April 26, 1879) reproaches Mr. Payne for confounding “Muniyat” (desire) with “Maniyat” (death) but both are written the same except when vowel-points are used.
3 Arab. “Iddat,” alluding to the months of celibacy which, according to Moslem law, must be passed by a divorced woman before she can re-marry.
4 Arab. “Talák bi’l-Salásah”=a triple divorce which cannot be revoked; nor can the divorcer re-marry the same woman till after consummation with another husband. This subject will continually recur.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman wept and lamented his separation from spouse and sire, when he beheld those two birds weeping over their mate. Then he looked at the twain and saw them dig a grave and therein bury the slain bird; after which they flew away far into the firmament and disappeared for a while; but presently they returned with the murtherer-bird and, alighting on the grave of the murthered, stamped on the slayer till they had done him to death. Then they rent his belly and tearing out his entrails, poured the blood on the grave of the slain1: moreover, they stripped off his skin and tare his flesh in pieces and, pulling out the rest of the bowels, scattered them hither and thither. All this while Kamar al-Zaman was watching them wonderingly; but presently, chancing to look at the place where the two birds had slain the third, he saw therein something gleaming. So he drew near to it and noted that it was the crop of the dead bird. Whereupon he took it and opened it and found the talisman which had been the cause of his separation from his wife. But when he saw it and knew it, he fell to the ground a-fainting for joy; and, when he revived, he said, “Praised be Allah! This is a foretaste of good and a presage of reunion with my beloved.” Then he examined the jewel and passed it over his eyes2; after which he bound it to his forearm, rejoicing in coming weal, and walked about till nightfall awaiting the gardener’s return; and when he came not, he lay down and slept in his wonted place. At daybreak he rose to his work and, girding his middle with a cord of palm-fibre, took hatchet and basket and walked down the length of the garden, till he came to a carob-tree and struck the axe into its roots. The blow rang and resounded; so he cleared away the soil from the place and discovered a trap-door and raised it. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 An allusion to a custom of the pagan Arabs in the days of ignorant Heathenism The blood or brain, soul or personality of the murdered man formed a bird called Sady or Hámah (not the Humá or Humái, usually translated “phœnix”) which sprang from the head, where four of the five senses have their seat, and haunted his tomb, crying continually, “Uskúni!”=Give me drink (of the slayer’s blood)! and which disappeared only when the vendetta was accomplished. Mohammed forbade the belief. Amongst the Southern Slavs the cuckoo is supposed to be the sister of a murdered man ever calling or vengeance.
2 To obtain a blessing and show how he valued it.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar al-Zaman raised the trap-door, he found a winding stair, which he descended and came to an ancient vault of the time of Ad and Thamúd,1 hewn out of the rock. Round the vault stood many brazen vessels of the bigness of a great oil-jar which he found full of gleaming red gold: whereupon he said to himself, “Verily sorrow is gone and solace is come!” Then he mounted from the souterrain to the garden and, replacing the trap-door as it was before, busied himself in conducting water to the trees till the last of the day, when the gardener came back and said to him, “O my son, rejoice at the good tidings of a speedy return to thy native land: the merchants are ready equipped for the voyage and the ship in three days’ time will set sail for the City of Ebony, which is the first of the cities of the Moslems, and after making it, thou must travel by land a six months’ march till thou come to the Islands of Khalidan, the dominions of King Shahriman.” At this Kamar al-Zaman rejoiced and began repeating,
“Part not from one whose wont is not to part from you;
Nor with your cruel taunts an innocent mortify:
Another so long parted had ta’en heart from you,
And had his whole condition changed — but not so I.”
Then he kissed the gardener’s hand and said, “O my father, even as thou hast brought me glad tidings, so I also have great good news for thee,’ and told him anent his discovery of the vault; whereat the gardener rejoiced and said, “O my son, fourscore years have I dwelt in this garden and have never hit on aught whilst thou, who hast not sojourned with me a year, hast discovered this thing; wherefore it is Heaven’s gift to thee, which shall end thy crosses and aid thee to rejoin thy folk and foregather with her thou lovest.” Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, “There is no help but it must be shared between me and thee.” Then he carried him to the underground-chamber and showed him the gold, which was in twenty jars: he took ten and the gardener ten, and the old man said to him, “O my son, fill thyself leather bottles2 with the sparrow-olives 3 which grow in this garden, for they are not found except in our land; and the merchants carry them to all parts. Lay the gold in the bottles and strew it over with olives: then stop them and cover them and take them with thee in the ship.” So Kamar al-Zaman arose without stay or delay and took fifty leather bottles and stored in each somewhat of the gold, and closed each one after placing a layer of olives over the gold; and at the bottom of one of the bottles he laid the talisman. Then sat he down to talk with the gardener, confident of speedy reunion with his own people and saying to himself, “When I come to the Ebony Islands I will journey thence to my father’s country and enquire for my beloved Budur. Would to Heaven I knew whether she returned to her own land or journeyed on to my father’s country or whether there befel her any accident by the way.” And he began versifying,
“Love in my breast they lit and fared away,
And far the land wherein my love is pent:
Far lies the camp and those who camp therein;
Par is her tent-shrine, where I ne’er shall tent.
Patience far deaf me when from me they fled;
Sleep failed mine eyes, endurance was forspent:
They left and with them left my every joy,
Wending with them, nor find I peace that went:
They made these eyes roll down love tears in flood,
And lacking them these eyne with tears are drent.
When my taste spins once again would see them,
When pine and expectation but augment,
In my heart’s core their counterfeits I trace,
With love and yearning to behold their grace.”
Then, while he awaited the end of the term of days, he told the gardener the tale of the birds and what had passed between them; whereat the hearer wondered; and they both lay down and slept till the morning. The gardener awoke sick and abode thus two days; but on the third day, his sickness increased on him, till they despaired of his life and Kamar al-Zaman grieved with sore grief for him. Meanwhile behold, the Master and his crew came and enquired for the gardener; and, when Kamar al-Zaman told them that he was sick, they asked, “Where be the youth who is minded to go with us to the Ebony Islands?” “He is your servent and he standeth before you!” answered the Prince and bade them carry the bottles of olives to the ship; so they transported them, saying, “Make haste, thou, for the wind is fair;” and he replied, “I hear and obey.” Then he carried his provaunt on board and, returning to bid the gardener farewell, found him in the agonies of death; so he sat down at his head and closed his eyes, and his soul departed his body; whereupon he laid him out and committed him to the earth unto the mercy of Allah Almighty. Then he made for the ship but found that she had already weighed anchor and set sail; nor did she cease to cleave the seas till she disappeared from his sight. So he went back to whence he came heavy-hearted with whirling head; and neither would he address a soul nor return a reply; and reaching the garden and sitting down in cark and care he threw dust on his head and buffeted his cheeks. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Well-known tribes of proto-historic Arabs who flourished before the time of Abraham: see Koran (chaps. xxvi. et passim). They will be repeatedly mentioned in The Nights and notes.
2 Arab. “Amtár”; plur. of “Matr,” a large vessel of leather or wood for water, etc.
3 Arab. “Asáfírí,” so called because they attract sparrows (asáfír) a bird very fond of the ripe oily fruit. In the Romance of “Antar” Asáfír camels are beasts that fly like birds in fleetness. The reader must not confound the olives of the text with the hard unripe berries (“little plums pickled in stale”) which appear at English tables, nor wonder that bread and olives are the beef-steak and potatoes of many Mediterranean peoples It is an excellent diet, the highly oleaginous fruit supplying the necessary carbon,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the ship sped on her course, Kamar al-Zaman returned to the garden in cark and care; but — anon he rented the place of its owner and hired a man to help him in irrigating the trees. Moreover, he repaired the trap-door and he went to the underground chamber and bringing the rest of the gold to grass, stowed it in other fifty bottles which he filled up with a layer of olives. Then he enquired of the ship and they told him that it sailed but once a year, at which his trouble of mind redoubled and he cried sore for that which had betided him, above all for the loss of the Princess Budur’s talisman, and spent his nights and days weeping and repealing verses. Such was his case; but as regards the ship she sailed with a favouring wind till she reached the Ebony Islands. Now by decree of destiny, Queen Budur was sitting at a lattice-window overlooking the sea and saw the galley cast anchor upon the strand. At this sight, her heart throbbed and she took horse with the Chamberlains and Nabobs and, riding down to the shore, halted by the ship, whilst the sailors broke bulk and bore the bales to the storehouses; after which she called the captain to her presence and asked what he had with him. He answered “O King, I have with me in this ship aromatic drugs and cosmetics and healing powders and ointments and plasters and precious metals and rich stuffs and rugs of Yemen leather, not to be borne of mule or camel, and all manner of otters and spices and perfumes, civet and ambergris and camphor and Sumatra aloes-wood, and tamerinds1 and sparrow-olives to boot, such as are rare to find in this country.” When she heard talk of sparrow-olives her heart longed for them and she said to the ship-master, “How much of olives hast thou?” He replied, “Fifty bottles full, but their owner is not with us, so the King shall take what he will of them.” Quoth she, “Bring them ashore, that I may see them.’’ Thereupon he called to the sailors, who brought her the fifty bottles; and she opened one and, looking at the olives, said to the captain, “I will take the whole fifty and pay you their value, whatso it be.” He answered, “By Allah, O my lord, they have no value in our country; moreover their shipper tarried behind us, and he is a poor man.” Asked she, “And what are they worth here?” and he answered “A thousand dirhams.” “I will take them at a thousand,” she said and bade them carry the fifty bottles to the palace. When it was night, she called for a bottle of olives and opened it, there being none in the room but herself and the Princess Hayat al-Nufus. Then, placing a dish before her she turned into it the contents of the jar, when there fell out into the dish with the olives a heap of red gold; and she said to the Lady Hayat al-Nufus, “This is naught but gold!” So she sent for the rest of the bottles and found them all full of precious metal and scarce enough olives to fill a single jar. Moreover, she sought among the gold and found therein the talisman, which she took and examined and behold, it was that which Kamar al-Zaman had taken from off the band of her petticoat trousers. Thereupon she cried out for joy and slipped down in a swoon; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Tamer al-Hindi”=the “Indian-date,” whence our word “Tamarind.” A sherbet of the pods, being slightly laxative, is much drunk during the great heats; and the dried fruit, made into small round cakes, is sold in the bazars. The traveller is advised not to sleep under the tamarind’s shade, which is infamous for causing ague and fever. In Sind I derided the “native nonsense,” passed the night under an “Indian date-tree” and awoke with a fine specimen of ague which lasted me a week.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Budur saw the talisman she cried out for joy and slipped down in a swoon; and when she recovered she said to herself, “Verily, this talisman was the cause of my separation from my beloved Kamar al-Zaman; but now it is an omen of good.” Then she showed it to Hayat al-Nufus and said to her, “This was the cause of disunion and now, please Allah, it shall be the cause of reunion.” As soon as day dawned she seated herself on the royal throne and sent for the ship-master, who came into the presence and kissed the ground before her. Quoth she, “Where didst thou leave the owner of these olives?” Quoth he, “O King of the age, we left him in the land of the Magians and he is a gardener there.” She rejoined, “Except thou bring him to me, thou knowest not the harm which awaiteth thee and thy ship.” Then she bade them seal up the magazines of the merchants and said to them, “Verily the owner of these olives hath borrowed of me and I have a claim upon him for debt and, unless ye bring him to me, I will without fail do you all die and seize your goods.” So they went to the captain and promised him the hire of the ship, if he would go and return a second time, saying, “Deliver us from this masterful tyrant.” Accordingly the skipper embarked and set sail and Allah decreed him a prosperous voyage, till he came to the Island of the Magians and, landing by night, went up to the garden. Now the night was long upon Kamar al-Zaman, and he sat, bethinking him of his beloved, and bewailing what had befallen him and versifying,
“A night whose stars refused to run their course,
A night of those which never seem outworn:
Like Resurrection-day, of longsome length1
To him that watched and waited for the morn.”
Now at this moment, the captain knocked at the garden-gate, and Kamar al-Zaman opened and went out to him, whereupon the crew seized him and went down with him on board the ship and set sail forthright; and they ceased not voyaging days and nights, whilst Kamar al-Zaman knew not why they dealt thus with him; but when he questioned them they replied, “Thou hast offended against the Lord of the Ebony Islands, the son-in-law of King Armanus, and thou hast stolen his monies, miserable that thou art!” Said he, “By Allah! I never entered that country nor do I know where it is!” However, they fared on with him, till they made the Ebony Islands and landing, carried him up to the Lady Budur, who knew him at sight and said, “Leave him with the eunuchs, that they may take him to the bath.” Then she relieved the merchants of the embargo and gave the captain a robe of honour worth ten thousand pieces of gold; and, after returning to the palace, she went in that night to the Princess Hayat al-Nufus and told her what had passed, saying, “Keep thou my counsel, till I accomplish my purpose, and do a deed which shall be recorded and shall be read by Kings and commoners after we be dead and gone.” And when she gave orders that they bear Kamar al-Zaman to the bath, they did so and clad him in a royal habit so that, when he came forth, he resembled a willow-bough or a star which shamed the greater and lesser light2 and its glow, and his life and soul returned to his frame. Then he repaired to the palace and went in to the Princess Budur; and when she saw him she schooled her heart to patience, till she should have accomplished her purpose; and she bestowed on him Mamelukes and eunuchs, camels and mules. Moreover, she gave him a treasury of money and she ceased not advancing him from dignity to dignity, till she made him Lord High Treasurer and committed to his charge all the treasures of the state; and she admitted him to familiar favour and acquainted the Emirs with his rank and dignity. And all loved him, for Queen Budur did not cease day by day to increase his allowances. As for Kamar al-Zaman, he was at a loss anent the reason of her thus honouring him; and he gave gifts and largesse out of the abundance of the wealth; and he devoted himself to the service of King Armanus; so that the King and all the Emirs and people, great and small, adored him and were wont to swear by his life. Nevertheless, he ever marvelled at the honour and favour shown him by Queen Budur and said to himself, “By Allah, there needs must be a reason for this affection! Peradventure, this King favoureth me not with these immoderate favours save for some ill purpose and, therefore, there is no help but that I crave leave of him to depart his realm.” So he went in to Queen Budur and said to her, “O King, thou hast overwhelmed me with favours, but it will fulfil the measure of thy bounties if thou take from me all thou hast been pleased to bestow upon me, and permit me to depart.” She smiled and asked, “What maketh thee seek to depart and plunge into new perils, whenas thou art in the enjoyment of the highest favour and greatest prosperity?” Answered Kamar al-Zaman, “O King, verily this favour, if there be no reason for it, is indeed a wonder of wonders, more by token that thou hast advanced me to dignities such as befit men of age and experience, albeit I am as it were a young child.” And Queen Budur rejoined, “The reason is that I love thee for thine exceeding loveliness and thy surpassing beauty; and if thou wilt but grant me my desire of thy body, I will advance thee yet farther in honour and favour and largesse; and I will make thee Wazir, for all thy tender age even as the folk made me Sultan over them and I no older than thou; so that nowadays there is nothing strange when children take the head and by Allah, he was a gifted man who said,
‘It seems as though of Lot’s tribe were our days,
And crave with love to advance the young in years.’”3
When Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, he was abashed and his cheeks flushed till they seemed a-flame; and he said, “I need not these favours which lead to the commission of sin; I will live poor in wealth but wealthy in virtue and honour.” Quoth she, “I am not to be duped by thy scruples, arising from prudery and coquettish ways; and Allah bless him who saith,
‘To him I spake of coupling, but he said to me,
How long this noyous long persistency?’
But when gold piece I showed him, he cried,
‘Who from the Almighty Sovereign e’er shall flee?’”
Now when Kamar al-Zaman, heard these words and understood her verses and their import, he said, “O King, I have not the habit of these doings, nor have I strength to bear these heavy burthens for which elder than I have proved unable; then how will it be with my tender age?” But she smiled at his speech and retorted, “Indeed, it is a matter right marvellous how error springeth from the disorder of man’s intendiment!! Since thou art a boy, why standest thou in fear of sin or the doing of things forbidden, seeing that thou art not yet come to years of canonical responsibility; and the offences of a child incur neither punishment nor reproof? Verily, thou hast committed thyself to a quibble for the sake of contention, and it is thy duty to bow before a proposal of fruition, so henceforward cease from denial and coyness, for the commandment of Allah is a decree foreordained:4 indeed, I have more reason than thou to fear falling and by sin to be misled; and well inspired was he who said,
‘My prickle is big and the little one said,
‘Thrust boldly in vitals with lion-like stroke!
Then I, ‘ ’Tis a sin!; and he, ‘No sin to me!
So I had him at once with a counterfeit poke.”5
When Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, the light became darkness in his sight and he said, “O King, thou hast in thy household fair women and female slaves, who have not their like in this age: shall not these suffice thee without me? Do thy will with them and let me go!” She replied, “Thou sayest sooth, but it is not with them that one who loveth thee can heal himself of torment and can abate his fever; for, when tastes and inclinations are corrupted by vice, they hear and obey other than good advice. So leave arguing and listen to what the poet saith,
‘Seest not the bazar with its fruit in rows?
These men are for figs and for sycamore6 those!’
And what another saith,
‘Many whose anklet rings are dumb have tinkling belts,
And this hath all content while that for want must wail:
Thou bidd’st me be a fool and quit thee for her charms;
Allah forfend I leave The Faith, turn Infidel!
Nay, by thy rights of side-beard mocking all her curls,
Nor mott nor maid7 from thee my heart shall spell.’
And yet another,
‘O beauty’s Union! love for thee’s my creed,
Free choice of Faith and eke my best desire:
Women I have forsworn for thee; so may
Deem me all men this day a shaveling friar.’8
And yet another,
‘Even not beardless one with girl, nor heed
The spy who saith to thee ‘’Tis an amiss!’
Far different is the girl whose feet one kisses
And that gazelle whose feet the earth must kiss.’
And yet another,
‘A boy of twice ten is fit for a King!’
And yet another,
‘The penis smooth and round was made with anus best to match it,
Had it been made for cunnus’ sake it had been formed like hatchet!’
And yet another said,
‘My soul thy sacrifice! I chose thee out
Who art not menstruous nor oviparous:
Did I with woman mell, I should beget
Brats till the wide wide world grew strait for us.’
And yet another,
‘She saith (sore hurt in sense the most acute
For she had proffered what did not besuit),
‘Unless thou stroke as man should swive his wife
Blame not when horns thy brow shall incornùte!
Thy wand seems waxen, to a limpo grown,
And more I palm it, softer grows the brute!’
And yet another,
‘Quoth she (for I to lie with her forbore),
‘O folly-following fool, O fool to core:
If thou my coynte for Kiblah9 to thy coigne
Reject, we’ll shall please thee more.’10
And yet another,
‘She proffered me a tender coynte
Quoth I ‘I will not roger thee!’
She drew back, saying, ‘From the Faith
He turns, who’s turned by Heaven’s decree!11
And front wise fluttering, in one day,
Is obsolete persistency!’
Then swung she round and shining rump
Like silvern lump she showed me!
I cried: ‘Well done, O mistress mine!
No more am I in pain for thee;
O thou of all that Allah oped12
Showest me fairest victory!’
And yet another,
‘Men craving pardon will uplift their hands;
Women pray pardon with their legs on high:
Out on it for a pious, prayerful work!
The Lord shall raise it in the depths to lie.’”13
When Kamar al-Zaman heard her quote this poetry, and was certified that there was no escaping compliance with what willed she, he said, “O King of the age, if thou must needs have it so, make covenant with me that thou wilt do this thing with me but once, though it avail not to correct thy depraved appetite, and that thou wilt never again require this thing of me to the end of time; so perchance shall Allah purge me of the sin.” She replied “I promise thee this thing, hoping that Allah of His favour will relent towards us and blot out our mortal offence; for the girdle of heaven’s forgiveness is not indeed so strait, but it may compass us around and absolve us of the excess of our heinous sins and bring us to the light of salvation out of the darkness of error; and indeed excellently well saith the poet,
‘Of evil thing the folk suspect us twain;
And to this thought their hearts and souls are bent:
Come, dear! let’s justify and free their souls
That wrong us; one good bout and then — repent!’’’14
Thereupon she made him an agreement and a covenant and swore a solemn oath by Him who is Self-existent, that this thing should befal betwixt them but once and never again for all time, and that the desire of him was driving her to death and perdition. So he rose up with her, on this condition, and went with her to her own boudoir, that she might quench the lowe of her lust, saying, “There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! This is the fated decree of the All- powerful, the All-wise!”; and he doffed his bag-trousers, shamefull and abashed, with the tears running from his eyes for stress of affright. Thereat she smiled and making him mount upon a couch with her, said to him, “After this night, thou shalt see naught that will offend thee.” Then she turned to him bussing and bosoming him and bending calf over calf, and said to him, “Put thy hand between my thighs to the accustomed place; so haply it may stand up to prayer after prostration.” He wept and cried, “I am not good at aught of this,” but she said, “By my life, an thou do as I bid thee, it shall profit thee!” So he put out his hand, with vitals a-fire for confusion, and found her thighs cooler than cream and softer than silk. The touching of them pleasured him and he moved his hand hither and thither, till it came to a dome abounding in good gifts and movements and shifts, and said in himself, “Perhaps this King is a hermaphrodite,15 neither man nor woman quite;” so he said to her, “O King, I cannot find that thou hast a tool like the tools of men; what then moved thee to do this deed?” Then loudly laughed Queen Budur till she fell on her back,16 and said, “O my dearling, how quickly thou hast forgotten the nights we have lain together!” Then she made herself known to him, and he knew her for his wife, the Lady Budur, daughter of King al-Ghayur, Lord of the Isles and the Seas. So he embraced her and she embraced him, and he kissed her and she kissed him; then they lay down on the bed of pleasure voluptuous, repeating the words of the poet,
“When his softly bending shape bid him close to my embrace
Which clips him all about like the tendrils of the vine
And shed a flood of softness on the hardness of his heart,
He yielded though at first he was minded to decline;
And dreading lest the railer’s eye should light upon his form,
Came armoured with caution to baffle his design:
His waist makes moan of hinder cheeks that weigh upon his feet
Like heavy load of merchandise upon young camel li’en;
Girt with his glances scymitar which seemed athirst for blood,
And clad in mail of dusky curls that show the sheeniest shine,
His fragrance wafted happy news of footstep coming nigh,
And to him like a bird uncaged I flew in straightest line:
I spread my cheek upon his path, beneath his sandal-shoon,
And lo! the stibium17 of their dust healed all my hurt of eyne.
With one embrace again I bound the banner of our loves18
And loosed the knot of my delight that bound in bonds malign:
Then bade I make high festival, and straight came flocking in
Pure joys that know not grizzled age19 nor aught of pain and pine:
The full moon dotted with the stars the lips and pearly teeth
That dance right joyously upon the bubbling face of wine:
So in the prayer-niche of their joys I yielded me to what
Would make the humblest penitent of sinner most indign.
I swear by all the signs20 of those glories in his face
I’ll ne’er forget the Chapter entituled Al–Ikhlas.”21
Then Queen Budur told Kamar al-Zaman all that had befallen her from beginning to end and he did likewise; after which he began to upbraid her, saying, “What moved thee to deal with me as thou hast done this night?” She replied, “Pardon me! for I did this by way of jest, and that pleasure and gladness might be increased.” And when dawned the morn and day arose with its sheen and shone, she sent to King Armanus, sire of the Lady Hayat al-Nufus, and acquainted him with the truth of the case and that she was wife to Kamar al-Zaman. Moreover, she told him their tale and the cause of their separation, and how his daughter was a virgin, pure as when she was born. He marvelled at their story with exceeding marvel and bade them chronicle it in letters of gold. Then he turned to Kamar al-Zaman and said, “O King’s son, art thou minded to become my son-in-law by marrying my daughter?” Replied he, “I must consult the Queen Budur, as she hath a claim upon me for benefits without stint.” And when he took counsel with her, she said, “Right is thy recking; marry her and I will be her handmaid; for I am her debtor for kindness and favour and good offices, and obligations manifold, especially as we are here in her place and as the King her father hath whelmed us with benefits.”22 Now when he saw that she inclined to this and was not jealous of Hayat al-Nufus, he agreed with her upon this matter. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Moslems are not agreed upon the length of the Day of Doom when all created things, marshalled by the angels, await final judgment; the different periods named are 40 years, 70, 300 and 50,000. Yet the trial itself will last no longer than while one may milk an ewe, or than “the space between two milkings of a she-camel.” This is bringing down Heaven to Earth with a witness; but, after all, the Heaven of all faiths, including “Spiritualism,” the latest development, is only an earth more or less glorified even as the Deity is humanity more or less perfected.
2 Arab. “Al–Kamaráni,” lit. “the two moons.” Arab rhetoric prefers it to “Shamsáni,” or {‘two suns,” because lighter (akhaff), to pronounce. So, albeit Omar was less worthy than Abu–Bakr the two are called “Al–Omaráni,” in vulgar parlance, Omarayn.
3 Alluding to the angels who appeared to the Sodomites in the shape of beautiful youths (Koran xi.).
4 Koran xxxiii. 38.
5 “Niktu-hu taklidan” i.e. not the real thing (with a woman). It may also mean “by his incitement of me.” All this scene is written in the worst form of Persian–Egyptian blackguardism, and forms a curious anthropological study. The “black joke” of the true and modest wife is inimitable.
6 Arab. “Jamíz” (in Egypt “Jammayz”) = the fruit of the true sycomore (F. Sycomorus) a magnificent tree which produces a small tasteless fig, eaten by the poorer classes in Egypt and by monkeys. The “Tín” or real fig here is the woman’s parts; the “mulberry — fig,” the anus. Martial (i. 65) makes the following distinction:—
Dicemus ficus, quas scimus in arbore nasci,
Dicemus ficos, Caeciliane, tuos.
And Modern Italian preserves a difference between fico and fica.
7 Arab. “Ghániyat Azárá” (plur. of Azrá = virgin): the former is properly a woman who despises ornaments and relies on “beauty unadorned” (i.e. in bed).
8 “Nihil usitatius apud monachos, cardinales, sacrificulos,” says Johannes de la Casa Beneventius Episcopus, quoted by Burton Anat. of Mel. lib. iii. Sect. 2; and the famous epitaph on the Jesuit,
Ci-git un Jesuite:
Passant, serre les fesses et passe vite!
9 Arab. “Kiblah”=the fronting-place of prayer, Meccah for Moslems, Jerusalem for Jews and early Christians. See Pilgrimage (ii. 321) for the Moslem change from Jerusalem to Meccah and ibid. (ii. 213) for the way in which the direction was shown.
10 The Koran says (chaps. ii.): “Your wives are your tillage: go in therefore unto your tillage in what manner so ever ye will.” Usually this is understood as meaning in any posture, standing or sitting, lying, backwards or forwards. Yet there is a popular saying about the man whom the woman rides (vulg. St. George, in France, le Postillon); “Cursed be who maketh woman Heaven and himself earth!” Some hold the Koranic passage to have been revealed in confutation of the Jews, who pretended that if a man lay with his wife backwards, he would beget a cleverer child. Others again understand it of preposterous venery, which is absurd: every ancient law-giver framed his code to increase the true wealth of the people — population — and severely punished all processes, like onanism, which impeded it. The Persians utilise the hatred of women for such misuse when they would force a wive to demand a divorce and thus forfeit her claim to Mahr (dowry); they convert them into catamites till, after a month or so, they lose all patience and leave the house.
11 Koran lit 9: “He will be turned aside from the Faith (or Truth) who shall be turned aside by the Divine decree;” alluding, in the text, to the preposterous venery her lover demands.
12 Arab. “Futúh” meaning openings, and also victories, benefits. The lover congratulates her on her mortifying self in order to please him.
13 “And the righteous work will be exalt”: (Koran xxxv. 11) applied ironically.
14 A prolepsis of Tommy Moore:—
Your mother says, my little Venus,
There’s something not quite right between us,
And you’re in fault as much as I,
Now, on my soul, my little Venus,
I swear ‘twould not be right between us,
To let your mother tell a lie.
But the Arab is more moral than Mr. Little. as he purposes to repent.
15 Arab. “Khunsa” flexible or flaccid, from Khans=bending inwards, i.e. the mouth of a water-skin before drinking. Like Mukhannas, it is also used for an effeminate man, a passive sodomite and even for a eunuch. Easterns still believe in what Westerns know to be an impossibility, human beings with the parts and proportions of both sexes equally developed and capable of reproduction; and Al–Islam even provides special rules for them (Pilgrimage iii. 237). We hold them to be Buffon’s fourth class of (duplicate) monsters belonging essentially to one or the other sex, and related to its opposite only by some few characteristics. The old Greeks dreamed, after their fashion, a beautiful poetic dream of a human animal uniting the contradictory beauties of man and woman. The duality of the generative organs seems an old Egyptian tradition, at least we find it in Genesis (i. 27) where the image of the Deity is created male and female, before man was formed out of the dust of the ground (ii. 7). The old tradition found its way to India (if the Hindus did not borrow the idea from the Greeks); and one of the forms of Mahadeva, the third person of their triad, is entitled “Ardhanárí”=the Half-woman, which has suggested to them some charming pictures. Europeans, seeing the left breast conspicuously feminine, have indulged in silly surmises about the “Amazons.”
16 This is a mere phrase for our “dying of laughter”: the queen was on her back. And as Easterns sit on carpets, their falling back is very different from the same movement off a chair.
17 Arab. “Ismid,” the eye-powder before noticed.
18 When the Caliph (e.g. Al-Tá‘i li’llah) bound a banner to a spear and handed it to an officer, he thereby appointed him Sultan or Viceregent.
19 Arab. “Sháib al-ingház”=lit. a gray beard who shakes head in disapproval.
20 Arab. “Ayát” = the Hebr. “Ototh,” signs, wonders or Koranic verses.
21 The Chapter “Al–Ikhlás” i.e. clearing (oneself from any faith but that of Unity) is No. cxii. and runs thus:—
Say, He is the One God!
The sempiternal God,
He begetteth not, nor is He begot,
And unto Him the like is not.
It is held to be equal in value to one-third of the Koran, and is daily used in prayer. Mr. Rodwell makes it the tenth.
22 The Lady Budur shows her noble blood by not objecting to her friend becoming her Zarrat (sister-wife). This word is popularly derived from “Zarar”=injury; and is vulgarly pronounced in Egypt “Durrah” sounding like Durrah = a parrot (see Burckhardt’s mistake in Prov. 314). The native proverb says, “Ayshat al-durrah murrah,” the sister-wife hath a bitter life. We have no English equivalent; so I translate indifferently co-wife, co-consort, sister-wife or sister in wedlock.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al- Zaman agreed with his wife, Queen Budur, upon this matter and told King Armanus what she had said; whereat he rejoiced with great joy. Then he went out and, seating himself upon his chair of estate, assembled all the Wazirs, Emirs, Chamberlains and Grandees, to whom he related the whole story of Kamar al-Zaman and his wife, Queen Budur, from first to last; and acquainted them with his desire to marry his daughter Hayat al-Nufus to the Prince and make him King in the stead of Queen Budur. Whereupon said they all, “Since he is the husband of Queen Budur, who hath been our King till now, whilst we deemed her son-in-law to King Armanus, we are all content to have him to Sultan over us; and we will be his servants, nor will we swerve from his allegiance.” So Armanus rejoiced hereat and, summoning Kazis and witnesses and the chief officers of state, bade draw up the contract of marriage between Kamar al-Zaman and his daughter, the Princess Hayat al-Nufus. Then he held high festival, giving sumptuous marriage-feasts and bestowing costly dresses of honour upon all the Emirs and Captains of the host; moreover he distributed alms to the poor and needy and set free all the prisoners. The whole world rejoiced in the coming of Kamar al-Zaman to the throne, blessing him and wishing him endurance of glory and prosperity, renown and felicity; and, as soon as he became King, he remitted the customs-dues and released all men who remained in gaol. Thus he abode a long while, ordering himself worthily towards his lieges; and he lived with his two wives in peace, happiness, constancy and content, lying the night with each of them in turn. He ceased not after this fashion during many years, for indeed all his troubles and afflictions were blotted out from him and he forgot his father King Shahriman and his former estate of honour and favour with him. After a while Almighty Allah blessed him with two boy children, as they were two shining moons, through his two wives; the elder whose name was Prince Amjad,1 by Queen Budur, and the younger whose name was Prince As’ad by Queen Hayat al-Nufus; and this one was comelier than his brother. They were reared in splendour and tender affection, in respectful bearing and in the perfection of training; and they were instructed in penmanship and science and the arts of government and horsemanship, till they attained the extreme accomplishments and the utmost limit of beauty and loveliness; both men and women being ravished by their charms. They grew up side by side till they reached the age of seventeen, eating and drinking together and sleeping in one bed, nor ever parting at any time or tide; wherefore all the people envied them. Now when they came to man’s estate and were endowed with every perfection, their father was wont, as often as he went on a journey, to make them sit in his stead by turns in the hall of judgement; and each did justice among the folk one day at a time. But it came to pass, by confirmed fate and determined lot, that love for As’ad (son of Queen Hayat al-Nufus) rose in the heart of Queen Budur, and that affection for Amjad (son of Queen Budur) rose in the heart of Queen Hayat al-Nufus.2 Hence it was that each of the women used to sport and play with the son of her sister-wife, kissing him and straining him to her bosom, whilst each mother thought that the other’s behaviour arose but from maternal affection. On this wise passion got the mastery of the two women’s hearts and they became madly in love with the two youths, so that when the other’s son came in to either of them, she would press him to her breast and long for him never to be parted from her; till, at last, when waiting grew longsome to them and they found no path to enjoyment, they refused meat and drink and banished the solace of sleep. Presently, the King fared forth to course and chase, bidding his two sons sit to do justice in his stead, each one day in turn as was their wont. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane preserves the article “El–Amjad” and “El–As’ad;” which is as necessary as to say “the John” or “the James,” because neo-Latins have “il Giovanni” or “il Giacomo.” In this matter of the article, however, it is impossible to lay down a universal rule: in some cases it must be preserved and only practice in the language can teach its use. For instance, it is always present in Al–Bahrayn and al-Yaman; but not necessarily so with Irak and Najd.
2 It is hard to say why this ugly episode was introduced. It is a mere false note in a tune pretty enough.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King fared forth to sport and hunt, bidding his two sons sit to do justice in his stead, each one day by turn, as was their wont. Now Prince Amjad sat in judgement the first day, bidding and forbidding, appointing and deposing, giving and refusing; and Queen Hayat al-Nufus, mother of As’ad, wrote to him a letter suing for his favour and discovering to him her passion and devotion; altogether put tiny off the mask and giving him to know that she desired to enjoy him. So she took a scroll and thereon indited these cadences,
“From the love deranged
the sorrowful and estranged
whose torment is prolonged for the longing of thee!
Were I to recount to thee the extent of my care
and what of sadness I bear
the passion which my heart cloth tear
and all that I endure for weeping and unrest
and the rending of my sorrowful breast
my unremitting grief
and my woe without relief
and all my suffering for severance of thee
and sadness and love’s ardency
no letter could contain it;
nor calculation could compass it
Indeed earth and heaven upon me are strait;
and I have no hope and no trust but what from thee I await
Upon death I am come nigh
and the horrors of dissolution I aby
Burning upon me is sore
with parting pangs and estrangement galore
Were I to set forth the yearnings that possess me more and more
no scrolls would suffice to hold such store
and of the excess of my pain and pine,
I have made the following lines:-
Were I to dwell on heart-consuming heat,
Unease and transports in my spins meet,
Nothing were left of ink and reeden pen
Nor aught of paper; no, not e’en a sheet.
Then Queen Hayat al-Nufus wrapped up her letter in a niece of costly silk scented with musk and ambergris; and folded it up with her silken hair-strings1 whose cost swallowed down treasures laid it in a handkerchief and gave it to a eunuch bidding him bear it to Prince Amjad. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The significance of this action will presently appear.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that she gave her missive to the eunuch in waiting and bade him bear it to Prince Amjad. And that eunuch went forth ignoring what the future hid for him (for the Omniscient ordereth events even as He willeth); and, going in to the Prince, kissed the ground between his hands and handed to him the letter. On receiving the kerchief he opened it and, reading the epistle and recognizing its gist he was ware that his father’s wife was essentially an adulteress and a traitress at heart to her husband, King Kamar al-Zaman. So he waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and railed at women and their works, saying, “Allah curse women, the traitresses, the imperfect in reason and religion!”1 Then he drew his sword and said to the eunuch, “Out on thee, thou wicked slave! Dost thou carry messages of disloyalty for thy lord’s wife? By Allah, there is no good in thee, O black of hue and heart, O foul of face and Nature’s forming!” So he smote him on the neck and severed his head from his body; then, folding the kerchief over its contents he thrust it into his breast pocket and went in to his own mother and told her what had passed, reviling and reproaching her, and saying, “Each one of you is viler than the other; and, by Allah the Great and Glorious, did I not fear ill-manneredly to transgress against the rights of my father, Kamar al-Zaman, and my brother, Prince As’ad, I would assuredly go in to her and cut off her head, even as I cut off that of her eunuch!” Then he went forth from his mother in a mighty rage; and when the news reached Queen Hayat al-Nufus of what he had done with her eunuch, she abused him2 and cursed him and plotted perfidy against him. He passed the night, sick with rage, wrath and concern; nor found he pleasure in meat, drink or sleep. And when the next morning dawned Prince As’ad fared forth in his turn to rule the folk in his father’s stead, whilst his mother, Hayat al-Nufus, awoke in feeble plight because of what she had heard from Prince Amjad concerning the slaughter of her eunuch. So Prince As’ad sat in the audience-chamber that day, judging and administering justice, appointing and deposing, bidding and forbidding, giving and bestowing. And he ceased not thus till near the time of afternoon-prayer, when Queen Budur sent for a crafty old woman and, discovering to her what was in her heart, wrote a letter to Prince As’ad, complaining of the excess of her affection and desire for him in these cadenced lines,
“From her who perisheth for passion and love-forlorn
to him who in nature and culture is goodliest born
to him who is conceited of his own loveliness
and glories in his amorous grace
who from those that seek to enjoy him averteth his face
and refuseth to show favour unto the self abasing and base
him who is cruel and of disdainful mood
from the lover despairing of good
to Prince As’ad with passing beauty endowed
and of excelling grace proud
of the face moon bright
and the brow flower-white
and dazzling splendid light
This is my letter to him whose love melteth my body
and rendeth my skin and bones!
Know that my patience faileth me quite
and I am perplexed in my plight
longing and restlessness weary me
and sleep and patience deny themselves to me
but mourning and watching stick fast to me
and desire and passion torment me
and the extremes of languor and sickness have sheet me
Yet may my life be a ransom for thee
albeit thy pleasure be to slay her who loveth thee
and Allah prolong the life of thee
and preserve thee from all infirmity!”
And after these cadences she wrote these couplets,
“Fate hath commanded I become thy fere,
O shining like full moon when clearest clear!
All beauty dost embrace, all eloquence;
Brighter than aught within our worldly sphere:
Content am I my torturer thou be:
Haply shalt alms me with one lovely leer!
Happy her death who dieth for thy love!
No good in her who holdeth thee unclear!”
And also the following couplets,
“Unto thee, As’ad! I of passion-pangs complain;
Have ruth on slave of love so burnt with flaming pain:
How long, I ask, shall hands of Love disport with me,
With longings, dolour, sleepliness and bale and bane?
Anon I ‘plain of sea in heart, anon of fire
In vitals, O strange case, dear wish, my fairest fain!
O blamer, cease thy blame, and seek thyself to fly
From love, which makes these eyne a rill of tears to rain.
How oft I cry for absence and desire, Ah grief!
But all my crying naught of gain for me shall gain:
Thy rigours dealt me sickness passing power to bear,
Thou art my only leach, assain me an thou deign!
O chider, chide me not in caution, for I doubt
That plaguey Love to thee shall also deal a bout.”
Then Queen Budur perfumed the letter-paper with a profusion of odoriferous musk and, winding it in her hairstrings which were of Iraki silk, with pendants of oblong emeralds, set with pearls and stones of price, delivered it to the old woman, bidding her carry it to Prince As’ad.3 She did so in order to pleasure her, and going in to the Prince, straightway and without stay, found him in his own rooms and delivered to him the letter in privacy; after which she stood waiting an hour or so for the answer. When As’ad had read the paper and knew its purport, he wrapped it up again in the ribbons and put it in his bosom-pocket: then (for he was wrath beyond all measure of wrath) he cursed false women and sprang up and drawing his sword, smote the old trot on the neck and cut off her pate. Thereupon he went in to his mother, Queen Hayat al-Nufus, whom he found lying on her bed in feeble case, for that which had betided her with Prince Amjad, and railed at her and cursed her; after which he left her and fore-gathered with his brother, to whom he related all that had befallen him with Queen Budur, adding, “By Allah, O my brother, but that I was ashamed before thee, I had gone in to her forthright and had smitten her head off her shoulders!” Replied Prince Amjad, “By Allah, O my brother, yesterday when I was sitting upon the seat of judgement, the like of what hath befallen thee this day befel me also with thy mother who sent me a letter of similar purport.” And he told him all that had passed, adding, “By Allah, O my brother, naught but respect for thee withheld me from going in to her and dealing with her even as I dealt with the eunuch!” They passed the rest of the night conversing and cursing womankind, and agreed to keep the matter secret, lest their father should hear of it and kill the two women. Yet they ceased not to suffer trouble and foresee affliction. And when the morrow dawned, the King returned with his suite from hunting and sat awhile in his chair of estate; after which he sent the Emirs about their business and went up to his palace, where he found his two wives lying a-bed and both exceeding sick and weak. Now they had made a plot against their two sons and concerted to do away their lives, for that they had exposed themselves before them and feared to be at their mercy and dependent upon their forbearance. When Kamar al-Zaman saw them on this wise, he said to them, “What aileth you?” Whereupon they rose to him and kissing his hands answered, perverting the case and saying “Know, O King, that thy two sons, who have been reared in thy bounty, have played thee false and have dishonoured thee in the persons of thy wives.” Now when he heard this, the light became darkness in his sight, and he raged with such wrath that his reason fled: then said he to them, “Explain me this matter.” Replied Queen Budur, “O King of the age, know that these many days past thy son As’ad hath been in the persistent habit of sending me letters and messages to solicit me to lewdness and adultery while I still forbade him from this, but he would not be forbidden; and, when thou wentest forth to hunt, he rushed in on me, drunk and with a drawn sword in his hand, and smiting my eunuch, slew him. Then he mounted on my breast, still holding the sword, and I feared lest he should slay me, if I gainsaid him, even as he had slain my eunuch; so he took his wicked will of me by force. And now if thou do me not justice on him, O King, I will slay myself with my own hand, for I have no need of life in the world after this foul deed.” And Queen Hayat al-Nufus, choking with tears, told him respecting Prince Amjad a story like that of her sister-wife. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 An “Hadís.”
2 Arab. “Sabb” = using the lowest language of abuse. chiefly concerning women-relatives and their reproductive parts.
3 The reader will note in the narration concerning the two Queens the parallelism of the Arab’s style which recalls that of the Hebrew poets. Strings of black silk are plaited into the long locks (an “idiot-fringe” being worn over the brow) because a woman is cursed “who joineth her own hair to the hair of another” (especially human hair). Sending the bands is a sign of affectionate submission; and, in extremes” cases the hair itself is sent.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Queen Hayat al-Nufus told her husband, King Kamar al-Zaman, a story like that of her sister in wedlock, Budur, and, quoth she, “The same thing befel me with thy son Amjad;” after which she took to weeping and wailing and said, “Except thou do me justice on him I will tell my father, King Armanus.” Then both women wept with sore weeping before King Kamar al-Zaman who, when he saw their tears and heard their words, concluded that their story was true and, waxing wroth beyond measure of wrath, went forth thinking to fall upon his two sons and put them to death. On his way he met his father-in-law, King Armanus who, hearing of his return from the chase, had come to salute him at that very hour and, seeing him with naked brand in hand and blood dripping from his nostrils, for excess of rage, asked what ailed him. So Kamar al-Zaman told him all that his sons Amjad and As’ad had done and added, “And here I am now going in to them to slay them in the foulest way and make of them the most shameful of examples.” Quoth King Armanus (and indeed he too was wroth with them), “Thou dost well, O my son, and may Allah not bless them nor any sons that do such deed against their father’s honour. But, O my son, the sayer of the old saw saith, ‘Whoso looketh not to the end hath not Fortune to friend.’ In any case, they are thy sons, and it befitteth not that thou kill them with thine own hand, lest thou drink of their death-agony,1 and anon repent of having slain them whenas repentance availeth thee naught. Rather do thou send them with one of thy Mamelukes into the desert and let him kill them there out of thy sight, for, as saith the adage, ‘Out of sight of my friend is better and pleasanter.’2 And when Kamar al-Zaman heard his father-in-law’s words, he knew them to be just; so he sheathed his sword and turning back, sat down upon the throne of his realm. There he summoned his treasurer, a very old man, versed in affairs and in fortune’s vicissitudes, to whom he said, “Go in to my sons, Amjad and As’ad; bind their hands behind them with strong bonds, lay them in two chests and load them upon a mule. Then take horse thou and carry them into mid desert, where do thou kill them both and fill two vials with their blood and bring the same to me in haste.” Replied the treasurer, “I hear and I obey,” and he rose up hurriedly and went out forthright to seek the Princes; and, on his road, he met them coming out of the palace-vestibule, for they had donned their best clothes and their richest; and they were on their way to salute their sire and give him joy of his safe return from his going forth to hunt. Now when he saw them, he laid hands on them, saying, “Omy sons, know ye that I am but a slave commanded, and that your father hath laid a commandment on me; will ye obey his commandment?” They said, “Yes”; whereupon he went up to them and, after pinioning their arms, laid them in the chests which he loaded on the back of a mule he had taken from the city. And he ceased not carrying them into the open country till near noon, when he halted in a waste and desolate place and, dismounting from his mare, let down the two chests from the mule’s back. Then he opened them and took out Amjad and As’ad; and when he looked upon them he wept sore for their beauty and loveliness; then drawing his sword he said to them, “By Allah, O my lords, indeed it is hard for me to deal so evilly by you; but I am to be excused in this matter, being but a slave commanded, for that your father King Kamar al-Zaman hath bidden me strike off your heads.” They replied, “O Emir, do the King’s bidding, for we bear with patience that which Allah (to Whom be Honour, Might and Glory!) hath decreed to us; and thou art quit of our blood.” Then they embraced and bade each other farewell, and As’ad said to the treasurer, “Allah upon thee, O uncle, spare me the sight of my brother’s death-agony and make me not drink of his anguish, but kill me first, for that were the easier for me.” And Amjad said the like and entreated the treasurer to kill him before As’ad, saying, “My brother is younger than I; so make me not taste of his anguish. And they both wept bitter tears whilst the treasurer wept for their weeping; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the treasurer wept for their weeping; then the two brothers embraced and bade farewell and one said to the other, “All this cometh of the malice of those traitresses, my mother and thy mother; and this is the reward of my forbearance towards thy mother and of thy for bearance towards my mother! But there is no Might and there is no Majesty save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily, we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning.”1 And As’ad em braced his brother, sobbing and repeating these couplets,
“O Thou to whom sad trembling wights in fear complain!
O ever ready whatso cometh to sustain!
The sole resource for me is at Thy door to knock,
At whose door knock an Thou to open wilt not deign?
O Thou whose grace is treasured in the one word, Be!2
Favour me, I beseech, in Thee all weals contain.”
Now when Amjad heard his brother’s weeping he wept also and pressing him to his bosom repeated these two couplets,
“O Thou whose boons to me are more than one!
Whose gifts and favours have nor count nor bound!
No stroke of all Fate’s strokes e’er fell on me,
But Thee to take me by the hand I found.”
Then said Amjad to the treasurer, “I conjure thee by the One, Omnipotent, the Lord of Mercy, the Beneficent! slay me before my brother As’ad, so haply shall the fire be quencht in my heart’s core and in this life burn no more.” But As’ad wept and exclaimed, “Not so: I will die first;” whereupon quoth Amjad, “It were best that I embrace thee and thou embrace me, so the sword may fall upon us and slay us both at a single stroke.” Thereupon they embraced, face to face and clung to each other straitly, whilst the treasurer tied up the twain and bound them fast with cords, weeping the while. Then he drew his blade and said to them, “By Allah, O my lords, it is indeed hard to me to slay you! But have ye no last wishes that I may fulfil or charges which I may carry out, or message which I may deliver?” Replied Amjad, “We have no wish; and my only charge to thee is that thou set my brother below and me above him, that the blow may fall on me first, and when thou hast killed us and returnest to the King and he asketh thee, ‘What heardest thou from them before their death?’; do thou answer, ‘Verily thy sons salute thee and say to thee, Thou knewest not if we were innocent or guilty, yet hast thou put us to death and hast not certified thyself of our sin nor looked into our case.’ Then do thou repeat to him these two couplets,
‘Women are Satans made for woe o’ men;
I fly to Allah from their devilish scathe:
Source of whatever bale befel our kind,
In wordly matters and in things of Faith.’”
Continued Amjad, “We desire of thee naught but that thou repeat to our sire these two couplets.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e., unto Him we shall return, a sentence recurring in almost every longer chapter of the Koran.
2 Arab. “Kun,” the creative Word (which, by the by, proves the Koran to be an uncreated Logos); the full sentence being “Kun fa kána” = Be! and it became. The origin is evidently, “And God said, Let there be light: and there was light” (Gen. i. 3); a line grand in its simplicity and evidently borrowed from the Egyptians, even as Yahveh (Jehovah) from “Ankh”=He who lives (Brugsch Hist. ii. 34).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Amjad added, speaking to the treasurer, “We desire of thee naught but that thou repeat to our sire these two couplets which thou hast just now heard; and I conjure thee by Allah to have patience with us, whilst I cite to my brother this other pair of couplets.” Then he wept with sore weeping and began,
“The Kings who fared before us showed
Of instances full many a show:
Of great and small and high and low
How many this one road have trod!”
Now when the treasurer heard these words from Amjad, he wept till his beard was wet, whilst As’ad’s eyes brimmed with tears and he in turn repeated these couplets,
“Fate frights us when the thing is past and gone;
Weeping is not for form or face alone1:
What ails the Nights?2 Allah blot out our sin,
And be the Nights by other hand undone!
Ere this Zubayr-son3 felt their spiteful hate,
Who fled for refuge to the House and Stone:
Would that when Khárijah was for Amru slain4
They had ransomed Ali with all men they own.”
Then, with cheeks stained by tears down railing he recited also these verses,
“In sooth the Nights and Days are charactered
By traitor falsehood and as knaves they lie;
The Desert-reek5 recalls their teeth that shine;
All horrid blackness is their K of eye:
My sin anent the world which I abhor
Is sin of sword when sworders fighting hie.”
Then his sobs waxed louder and he said,
“O thou who woo’st a World6 unworthy, learn
’Tis house of evils, ’tis Perdition’s net:
A house where whoso laughs this day shall weep
The next: then perish house of fume and fret!
Endless its frays and forays, and its thralls
Are ne’er redeemed, while endless risks beset.
How many gloried in its pomps and pride,
Till proud and pompous did all bounds forget,
Then showing back of shield she made them swill7
Full draught, and claimed all her vengeance debt.
For know her strokes fall swift and sure, altho’
Long bide she and forslow the course of Fate:
So look thou to thy days lest life go by
Idly, and meet thou more than thou hast met;
And cut all chains of world-love and desire
And save thy soul and rise to secrets higher.”
Now when As’ad made an end of these verses, he strained his brother Amjad in his arms, till they twain were one body, and the treasurer, drawing his sword, was about to strike them, when behold, his steed took fright at the wind of his upraised hand, and breaking its tether, fled into the desert. Now the horse had cost a thousand gold pieces and on its back was a splendid saddle worth much money; so the treasurer threw down his sword, and ran after his beast. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. but also for the life and the so-called “soul.”
2 Arab. “Layáli”=lit. nights which, I have said, is often applied to the whole twenty-four hours. Here it is used in the sense of “fortune” or “fate;” like “days” and “days and nights.”
3 Abdullah ibn al-Zubayr a nephew of Ayishah, who had rebuilt the Ka’abah in A.H. 64 (A.D. 683), revolted (A.D. 680) against Yezid and was proclaimed Caliph at Meccah. He was afterwards killed (A.D. 692) by the famous or infamous Hajjáj general of Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, the fifth Ommiade, surnamed “Sweat of a stone” (skin-flint) and “Father of Flies,” from his foul breath. See my Pilgrimage, etc. (iii. 192–194), where are explained the allusions to the Ka’abah and the holy Black Stone.
4 These lines are part of an elegy on the downfall of one of the Moslem dynasties in Spain, composed in the twelfth century by Ibn Abdun al-Andalúsi. The allusion is to the famous conspiracy of the Khárijites (the first sectarians in Mohammedanism) to kill Ah, Mu’awiyah and Amru (so written but pronounced “Amr”) al-As, in order to abate intestine feuds in Al–Islam. Ali was slain with a sword-cut by Ibn Muljam a name ever damnable amongst the Persians; Mu’awiyah escaped with a wound and Kharijah, the Chief of Police at Fustat or old Cairo was murdered by mistake for Amru. After this the sectarian wars began.
5 Arab. “Saráb”= (Koran, chaps. xxiv.) the reek of the Desert, before explained. It is called “Lama,” the shine, the loom, in Al–Hariri. The world is compared with the mirage, the painted eye and the sword that breaks in the sworder’s hand.
6 Arab. “Dunyá,” with the common alliteration “dániyah” (=Pers. “dún”), in prose as well as poetry means the things or fortune of this life opp. to “Akhirah”=future life.
7 Arab. “Walgh,” a strong expression primarily denoting the lapping of dogs; here and elsewhere “to swill, saufen.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when his horse ran away, the treasurer ran after it in huge concern, and ceased not running to catch the runaway till it entered a thicket. He followed it whilst it dashed through the wood, smiting the earth with its hoofs till it raised a dust-cloud which towered high in air; and snorting and puffing and neighing and waxing fierce and furious. Now there happened to be in this thicket a lion of terrible might; hideous to sight, with eyes sparkling light: his look was grim and his aspect struck fright into man’s sprite. Presentry the treasurer turned and saw the lion making towards him; but found no way of escape nor had he his sword with him. So he said in himself, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! This strait is come upon me for no other cause but because of Amjad and As’ad; and indeed this journey was unblest from the first!” Meanwhile the two Princes were grievously oppressed by the heat and grew sore athirst, so that their tongues hung out and they cried for succour, but none came to their relief and they said, “Would to Heaven we had been slain and were at peace from this pain! But we know not whither the horse hath fled, that the treasurer is gone and hath left us thus pinioned. If he would but come back and do us die, it were easier to us than this torture to aby.” Said As’ad, “O my brother, be patient, and the relief of Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) shall assuredly come to us; for the horse started not away save of His favour towards us, and naught irketh us but this thirst.” Upon this he stretched and shook himself and strained right and left, till he burst his pinion-bonds; then he rose and unbound his brother and catching up the Emir’s sword, said, “By Allah, we will not go hence, till we look after him and learn what is become of him.” Then they took to following on the trail till it led them to the thicket and they said to each other, “Of a surety, the horse and the treasurer have not passed out of this wood.” Quoth As’ad, “Stay thou here, whilst I enter the thicket and search it;” and Amjad replied, “I will not let thee go in alone: nor will we enter it but together; so if we escape, we shall escape together and if we perish, we shall perish together.” Accordingly both entered and found that the lion had sprang upon the treasurer, who lay like a sparrow in his grip, calling upon Allah for aid and signing with his hands to Heaven. Now when Amjad saw this, he took the sword and, rushing upon the lion, smote him between the eyes and laid him dead on the ground. The Emir sprang up, marvelling at this escape and seeing Amjad and As’ad, his master’s sons, standing there, cast himself at their feet and exclaimed, “By Allah, O my lords, it were intolerable wrong in me to do you to death. May the man never be who would kill you! Indeed, with my very life, I will ransom you.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the treasurer to Amjad and As’ad, “With my life will I ransom you both!” Then he hastily rose and, at once embracing them, enquired how they had loosed their bonds and come thither; whereupon they told him how the bonds of one of them had fallen loose and he had unbound the other, whereto they were helped by the purity of their intentions, and how they had tracked his trail till they came upon him. So he thanked them for their deed and went with them forth of the thicket; and, when they were in the open country, they said to him, “O uncle, do our father’s bidding.” He replied, “Allah forbid that I should draw near to you with hurt! But know ye that I mean to take your clothes and clothe you with mine; then will I fill two vials with the lion’s blood and go back to the King and tell him I have out vou to death. But as for you two, fare ye forth into the lands, for Allah’s earth is wide; and know, O my lords, that it paineth me to part from you.” At this, they all fell a-weeping; then the two youths put off their clothes and the treasurer habited them with his own. Moreover he made two parcels of their dress and, filling two vials with the lion’s blood, set the parcels before him on his horse’s back. Presently he took leave of them and, making his way to the city, ceased not faring till he went in to King Kamar al-Zaman and kissed the ground between his hands. The King saw him changed in face and troubled (which arose from his adventure with the lion) and, deeming this came of the slaughter of his two sons, rejoiced and said to him, “Hast thou done the work?” “Yes, O our lord,” replied the treasurer and gave him the two parcels of clothes and the two vials full of blood. Asked the King, “What didst thou observe in them; and did they give thee any charge?” Answered the treasurer, “I found them patient and resigned to what came down upon them and they said to me, ‘Verily, our father is excusable; bear him our salutation and say to him, ‘Thou art quit of our killing. But we charge thee repeat to him these couplets,
‘Verily women are devils created for us. We seek refuge with God from the artifice of the devils. They are the source of all the misfortunes that have appeared among mankind in the affairs of the world and of religion.’’’1
When the King heard these words of the treasurer, he bowed his head earthwards, a long while and knew his sons’ words to mean that they had been wrongfully put to death. Then he bethought himself of the perfidy of women and the calamities brought about by them; and he took the two parcels and opened them and fell to turning over his sons’ clothes and weeping — And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The lines are repeated from Night ccxxi. I give Lane’s version (ii. 162) by way of contrast and — warning.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Kamar la-Zaman opened the two bundles and fell to turning over his sons’ clothes and weeping, it so came to pass that he found, in the pocket of his son As’ad’s raiment, a letter in the hand of his wife enclosing her hair strings; so he opened and read it and understanding the contents knew that the Prince had been falsely accused and wrongously. Then he searched Amjad’s parcel of dress and found in his pocket a letter in the handwriting of Queen Hayat al-Nufus enclosing also her hair-strings; so he opened and read it and knew that Amjad too had been wronged; whereupon he beat hand upon hand and exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! I have slain my sons unjustly.” And he buffeted his face, crying out, “Alas, my sons! Alas, my long grief!” Then he bade them build two tombs in one house, which he styled “House of Lamentations,” and had graved thereon his sons’ names; and he threw himself on Amjad’s tomb, weeping and groaning and lamenting, and improvised these couplets,
“O moon for ever set this earth below,
Whose loss bewail the stars which stud the sky!
O wand, which broken, ne’er with bend and wave
Shall fascinate the ravisht gazer’s eye;
These eyne for jealousy I ‘reft of thee,
Nor shall they till next life thy sight descry:
I’m drowned in sea of tears for insomny
Wherefore, indeed in Sáhirah-stead1 I lie.”
Then he threw himself on As’ad’s tomb, groaning and weeping and lamenting and versifying with these couplets,
“Indeed I longed to share unweal with thee,
But Allah than my will willed otherwise:
My grief all blackens ‘twixt mine eyes and space,
Yet whitens all the blackness from mine eyes:2
Of tears they weep these eyne run never dry,
And ulcerous flow in vitals never dries:
Right sore it irks me seeing thee in stead3
Where slave with sovran for once levelled lies.”
And his weeping and wailing redoubled; and, after he had ended his lamentations and his verse, he forsook his friends and intimates, and denying himself to his women and his family, cut himself off from the world in the House of Lamentations, where he passed his time in weeping for his sons. Such was his case; but as regards Amjad and As’ad they fared on into the desert eating of the fruits of the earth and drinking of the remnants of the rain for a full month, till their travel brought them to a mountain of black flint4 whose further end was unknown; and here the road forked, one line lying along the midway height and the other leading to its head. They took the way trending to the top and gave not over following it five days, but saw no end to it and were overcome with weariness, being unused to walking upon the mountains or elsewhere.5 At last, despairing of coming to the last of the road, they retraced their steps and, taking the other, that led over the midway heights — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “Sáhirah” is the place where human souls will be gathered on Doom-day: some understand by it the Hell Sa’ír (No. iv.) intended for the Sabians or the Devils generally.
2 His eyes are faded like Jacob’s which, after weeping for Joseph, “became white with mourning” (Koran, chaps. xxi.). It is a stock comparison.
3 The grave.
4 Arab. “Sawwán” (popularly pronounced Suwán) =“Syenite” from Syrene; generally applied to silex, granite or any hard stone.
5 A proceeding fit only for thieves and paupers: “Alpinism” was then unknown. “You come from the mountain” (al-Jabal) means, “You are a clod-hopper”; and “I will sit upon the mountain”=turn anchorite or magician. (Pilgrimage i. 106.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Princes Amjad and As’ad returned from the path leading to the Mountain-head and took that which ran along the midway heights, and walked through all that day till nightfall, when As’ad, weary with much travel, said to Amjad, “O my brother, I can walk no farther, for I am exceeding weak.” Replied Amjad, “O my brother, take courage! May be Allah will send us relief.” So they walked on part of the night, till the darkness closed in upon them, when As’ad became weary beyond measure of weariness and cried out, “O my brother, I am worn out and spent with walking,” and threw himself upon the ground and wept. Amjad took him in his arms and walked on with him, bytimes sitting down to rest till break of day, when they came to the mountain-top and found there a stream of running water and by it a pomegranate-tree and a prayer-niche.1 They could hardly believe their eyes when they saw it; but, sitting down by that spring, drank of its water and ate of the fruit of that granado-tree; after which they lay on the ground and slept till sunrise, when they washed and bathed in the spring and, eating of the pomegranates, slept again till the time of mid-afternoon prayer. Then they thought to continue their journey, but As’ad could not walk, for both his feet were swollen. So they abode there three days till they were rested, after which they set out again and fared on over the mountain days and nights, tortured by and like to die of thirst, till they sighted a city gleaming afar off, at which they rejoiced and made towards it. When they drew near it, they thanked Allah (be His Name exalted!) and Amjad said to As’ad, “O my brother, sit here, whilst I go to yonder city and see what it is and whose it is and where we are in Allah’s wide world, that we may know through what lands we have passed in crossing this mountain, whose skirts had we followed, we had not reached this city in a whole year. So praised be Allah for safety!” Replied As’ad, “By Allah, O my brother, none shall go down into that city save myself, and may I be thy ransom! If thou leave me alone, be it only for an hour, I shall imagine a thousand things and be drowned in a torrent of anxiety on thine account, for I cannot brook thine absence from me.” Amjad rejoined, “Go then and tarry not. So As’ad took some gold pieces, and leaving his brother to await him, descended the mountain and ceased not faring on till he entered the city. As he threaded the streets he was met by an old man age-decrepit, whose beard flowed down upon his breast and forked in twain;2 he bore a walking-staff in his hand and was richly clad, with a great red turband on his head. When As’ad saw him, he wondered at his dress and his mien; nevertheless, he went up to him and saluting him said, “Where be the way to the market, O my master?” Hearing these words the Shaykh smiled in his face and replied, “O my son, meseemeth thou art a stranger?” As’ad rejoined, “Yes, I am a stranger.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Corresponding with wayside chapels in Catholic countries. The Moslem form would be either a wall with a prayer niche (Mibráb) fronting Meccah-wards or a small domed room. These little oratories are often found near fountains, streams or tree-clumps where travellers would be likely to alight. I have described one in Sind (“Scinde or the Unhappy Valley” i. 79), and have noted that scrawling on the walls is even more common in the East than in the West; witness the monuments of old Egypt bescribbled by the Greeks and Romans. Even the paws of the Sphinx are covered with such graffiti; and those of Ipsambul or Abu Símbal have proved treasures to epigraphists.
2 In tales this characterises a Persian; and Hero Rustam is always so pictured.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Shaykh who met As’ad smiled in his face and said to him, “O my son, meseemeth thou art a stranger?” and As’ad replied, “Yes, I am a stranger.” Then rejoined the old man, “Verily, thou gladdenest our country with thy presence, O my son, and thou desolatest thine own land by reason of thine absence. What wantest thou of the market?” Quoth As’ad, “O uncle, I have a brother, with whom I have come from a far land and with whom I have journeyed these three months; and, when we sighted this city, I left him, who is my elder brother, upon the mountain and came hither, purposing to buy victual and what else, and return therewith to him, that we might feed thereon.” Said the old man, “Rejoice in all good, O my son, and know thou that to-day I give a marriage-feast, to which I have bidden many guests, and I have made ready plenty of meats, the best and most delicious that heart can desire. So if thou wilt come with me to my place, I will give thee freely all thou lackest without asking thee a price or aught else. Moreover I will teach thee the ways of this city; and, praised be Allah, O my son, that I, and none other have happened upon thee.” “As thou wilt,” answered As’ad, “do as thou art disposed, but make haste, for indeed my brother awaiteth me and his whole heart is with me.” The old man took As’ad by the hand and carried him to a narrow lane, smiling in his face and saying, “Glory be to Him who hath delivered thee from the people of this city!” And he ceased not walking till he entered a spacious house, wherein was a saloon and behold, in the middle of it were forty old men, well stricken in years, collected together and forming a single ring as they sat round about a lighted fire, to which they were doing worship and prostrating themselves.1 When As’ad saw this, he was confounded and the hair of his body stood on end though he knew not what they were; and the Shaykh said to them, “O Elders of the Fire, how blessed is this day!” Then he called aloud, saying, “Hello, Ghazbán!” Whereupon there came out to him a tall black slave of frightful aspect, grim-visaged and flat nosed as an ape who, when the old man made a sign to him, bent As’ad’s arms behind his back and pinioned them; after which the Shaykh said to him, “Let him down into the vault under the earth and there leave him and say to my slave girl Such-an-one, ‘Torture him night and day and give him a cake of bread to eat morning and evening against the time come of the voyage to the Blue Sea and the Mountain of Fire, whereon we will slaughter him as a sacrifice.’” So the black carried him out at another door and, raising a flag in the floor, discovered a flight of twenty steps leading to a chamber2 under the earth, into which he descended with him and, laying his feet in irons, gave him over to the slave girl and went away. Meanwhile, the old men said to one another, “When the day of the Festival of the Fire cometh, we will sacrifice him on the mountain, as a propitiatory offering whereby we shall pleasure the Fire.” Presently the damsel went down to him and beat him a grievous beating, till streams of blood flowed from his sides and he fainted; after which she set at his head a scone of bread and a cruse of brackish water and went away and left him. In the middle of the night, he revived and found himself bound and beaten and sore with beating: so he wept bitter tears; and recalling his former condition of honour and prosperity, lordship and dominion, and his separation from his sire and his exile from his native land. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Parsis, who are the representatives of the old Guebres, turn towards the sun and the fire as their Kiblah or point of prayer; all deny that they worship it. But, as in the case of saints’ images, while the educated would pray before them for edification (Labia) the ignorant would adore them (Dulia); and would make scanty difference between the “reverence of a servant” and the “reverence of a slave.” The human sacrifice was quite contrary to Guebre, although not to Hindu, custom; although hate and vengeance might prompt an occasional murder.
2 These oubliettes are common in old eastern houses as in the medieval Castles of Europe, and many a stranger has met his death in them. They are often so well concealed that even the modern inmates are not aware of their existence.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when As’ad found himself bound and beaten and sore with beating he recalled his whilome condition of honour and prosperity and dominion and lordship, and he wept and groaned aloud and recited these couplets,
“Stand by the ruined stead and ask of us;
Nor deem we dwell there as was state of us:
The World, that parter, hath departed us;
Yet soothes not hate-full hearts the fate of us:
With whips a cursed slave girl scourges us,
And teems her breast with rancorous hate of us:
Allah shall haply deign to unpart our lives,
Chastise our foes, and end this strait of us.”
And when As’ad had spoken his poetry, he put out his hand towards his head and finding there the crust and the cruse full of brackish water he ate a bittock, just enough to keep life in him, and drank a little water, but could get no sleep till morning for the swarms of bugs1 and lice. As soon as it was day, the slave girl came down to him and changed his clothes, which were drenched with blood and stuck to him, so that his skin came off with the shirt; wherefor he shrieked aloud and cried, “Alas!” and said, “O my God, if this be Thy pleasure, increase it upon me! O Lord, verily Thou art not unmindful of him that oppresseth me; do Thou then avenge me upon him!” And he groaned and repeated the following verses,
“Patient, O Allah! to Thy destiny
I bow, suffice me what Thou deign decree:
Patient to bear Thy will, O Lord of me,
Patient to burn on coals of Ghazá-tree:
They wrong me, visit me with hurt and harm;
Haply Thy grace from them shall set me free:
Far be’s, O Lord, from thee to spare the wronger
O Lord of Destiny my hope’s in Thee!”
And what another saith,
“Bethink thee not of worldly state,
Leave everything to course of Fate;
For oft a thing that irketh thee
Shall in content eventuate;
And oft what strait is shall expand,
And what expanded is wax strait.
Allah will do what wills His will
So be not thou importunate!
But ‘joy the view of coming weal
Shall make forget past bale and bate.”
And when he had ended his verse, the slave-girl came down upon him with blows till he fainted again; and, throwing him a flap of bread and a gugglet of saltish water, went away and left him sad and lonely, bound in chains of iron, with the blood streaming from his sides and far from those he loved. So he wept and called to mind his brother and the honours he erst enjoyed. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Bakk”; hence our “bug” whose derivation (like that of “cat” “dog” and “hog”) is apparently unknown to the dictionaries, always excepting M. Littré‘s.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that As’ad called to mind his brother and the honours he erst enjoyed; so he wept and groaned and complained and poured forth tears in floods and improvised these couplets,
“Easy, O Fate! how long this wrong, this injury,
Robbing each morn and eve my brotherhood fro’ me?
Is’t not time now thou deem this length sufficiency
Of woes and, O thou Heart of Rock, show clemency?
My friends thou wrongedst when thou madst each enemy
Mock and exult me for thy wrongs, thy tyranny:
My foeman’s heart is solaced by the things he saw
In me, of strangerhood and lonely misery:
Suffice thee not what came upon my head of dole,
Friends lost for evermore, eyes wan and pale of blee?
But must in prison cast so narrow there is naught
Save hand to bite, with bitten hand for company;
And tears that tempest down like goodly gift of cloud,
And longing thirst whose fires weet no satiety.
Regretful yearnings, singulfs and unceasing sighs,
Repine, remembrance and pain’s very ecstacy:
Desire I suffer sore and melancholy deep,
And I must bide a prey to endless phrenesy:
I find me ne’er a friend who looks with piteous eye,
And seeks my presence to allay my misery:
Say, liveth any intimate with trusty love
Who for mine ills will groan, my sleepless malady?
To whom moan I can make and, peradventure, he
Shall pity eyes that sight of sleep can never see?
The flea and bug suck up my blood, as wight that drinks
Wine from the proffering hand of fair virginity:
Amid the lice my body aye remindeth me
Of orphan’s good in Kázi’s claw of villainy:
My home’s a sepulchre that measures cubits three,
Where pass I morn and eve in chained agony:
My wines are tears, my clank of chains takes music’s stead,
Cares my dessert of fruit and sorrows are my bed.”
And when he had versed his verse and had prosed his prose, he again groaned and complained and remembered he had been and how he had been parted from his brother. Thus far concerning him; but as regards his brother Amjad, he awaited As’ad till mid-day yet he returned not to him: whereupon Amjad’s vitals fluttered, the pangs of parting were sore upon him and he poured forth abundant tears — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Amjad awaited his brother As’ad till mid-day and he returned not to him, Amjad’s vitals fluttered; the pangs of parting were sore upon him and he poured forth abundant tears, exclaiming, “Alas, my brother! Alas, my friend! Alas my grief! How I feared me we should be separated!” Then he descended from the mountain-top with the tears running down his cheeks; and, entering the city, ceased not walking till he made the market. He asked the folk the name of the place and concerning its people and they said, “This is called the City of the Magians, and its citizens are mostly given to Fire-worshipping in lieu of the Omnipotent King.” Then he enquired of the City of Ebony and they answered, “Of a truth it is a year’s journey thither by land and six months by sea: it was governed erst by a King called Armanus; but he took to son-in-law and made King in his stead a Prince called Kamar al-Zaman distinguished for justice and munificence, equity and benevolence.” When Amjad heard tell of his father, he groaned and wept and lamented and knew not whither to go. However, he bought a something of food and carried it to a retired spot where he sat down thinking to eat; but, recalling his brother, he fell a-weeping and swallowed but a morsel to keep breath and body together, and that against his will. Then he rose and walked about the city, seeking news of his brother, till he saw a Moslem tailor sitting in his shop so he sat down by him and told him his story; whereupon quoth the tailor, “If he have fallen into the hands of the Magians, thou shalt hardly see him again: yet it may be Allah will reunite you twain. But thou, O my brother,” he continued wilt thou lodge with me?” Amjad answered, “Yes”; and the tailor rejoiced at this. So he abode with him many days, what while the tailor comforted him and exhorted him to patience and taught him tailoring, till he became expert in the craft. Now one day he went forth to the sea-shore and washed his clothes; after which he entered the bath and put on clean raiment; then he walked about the city, to divert himself with its sights and presently there met him on the way a woman of passing beauty and loveliness, without peer for grace and comeliness. When she saw him she raised her face-veil and signed to him by moving her eyebrows and her eyes with luring glances, and versified these couplets,
“I drooped my glance when seen thee on the way
As though, O slim-waist! felled by Sol’s hot ray:
Thou art the fairest fair that e’er appeared,
Fairer to-day than fair of yesterday:1
Were Beauty parted, a fifth part of it
With Joseph or a part of fifth would stay;
The rest would fly to thee, thine ownest own;
Be every soul thy sacrifice, I pray!”
When Amjad heard these her words, they gladdened his heart which inclined to her and his bowels yearned towards her and the hands of love sported with him; so he sighed to her in reply and spoke these couplets,
“Above the rose of cheek is thorn of lance;2
Who dareth pluck it, rashest chevisance?
Stretch not thy hand towards it, for night long
Those lances marred because we snatched a glance!
Say her, who tyrant is and tempter too
(Though justice might her tempting power enhance):—
Thy face would add to errors were it veiled;
Unveiled I see its guard hath best of chance!
Eye cannot look upon Sol’s naked face;
But can, when mist-cloud dims his countenance:
The honey-hive is held by honey-bee;3
Ask the tribe-guards what wants their vigilance?
An they would slay me, let them end their ire
Rancorous, and grant us freely to advance:
They’re not more murderous, an charge the whole
Than charging glance of her who wears the mole.”
And hearing these lines from Amjad she sighed with the deepest sighs and, signing to him again, repeated these couplets,
“’Tis thou hast trodden coyness path not I:
Grant me thy favours for the time draws nigh:
O thou who makest morn with light of brow,
And with loosed brow-locks night in lift to stye!
Thine idol-aspect made of me thy slave,
Tempting as temptedst me in days gone by:
’Tis just my liver fry with hottest love:
Who worship fire for God must fire aby:
Thou sellest like of me for worthless price;
If thou must sell, ask high of those who buy.”
When Amjad heard these her words he said to her, “Wilt thou come to my lodging or shall I go with thee to thine?” So she hung her head in shame to the ground and repeated the words of Him whose Name be exalted, “Men shall have the pre-eminence above women, because of those advantages wherein Allah hath caused the one of them to excel the other.”4 Upon this, Amjad took the hint. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. thy beauty is ever increasing.
2 Alluding, as usual, to the eye-lashes, e.g.
An eyelash arrow from an eyebrow bow.
3 Lane (ii. 168) reads:—“The niggardly female is protected by her niggardness;” a change of “Nahílah” (bee-hive) into “Bakhílah” (she skin flint).
4 Koran iv. 38. The advantages are bodily strength, understanding and the high privilege of Holy War. Thus far, and thus far only, woman amongst Moslems is “lesser
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Amjad took the woman’s hint and understood that she wished to go with him whither he was going; he felt himself bounder to find a place wherein to receive her, but was ashamed to carry her to the house of his host, the tailor. So he walked on and she walked after him, and the two ceased not walking from street to street and place to place, till she was tired and said to him, “O my lord, where is thy house?” Answered he, “Before us a little way.” Then he turned aside into a handsome by-street, followed by the young woman, and walked on till he came to the end, when he found it was no thoroughfare and exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Then raising his eyes, he saw, at the upper end of the lane a great doer with two stone benches; but it was locked. So Amjad sat down on one of the benches and she on the other; and she said to him, “O my lord, wherefore waitest thou?” He bowed his head awhile to the ground then raised it and answered, “I am awaiting my Mameluke who hath the key; for I bade him make me ready meat and drink and flowers, to deck the wine-service against my return from the bath.” But he said to himself, “Haply the time will be tedious to her and she will go about her business, leaving me here, when I will wend my own way.” However, as soon as she was weary of long waiting, she said, “O my lord, thy Mameluke delayeth; and here are we sitting in the street;” and she arose and took a stone and went up to the lock. Said Amjad, “Be not in haste, but have patience till the servant come.” However, she hearkened not to him, but smote the wooden bolt with the stone and broke it in half, whereupon the door opened. Quoth he, “What possessed thee to do this deed?” Quoth she, “Pooh, pooh, my lord! what matter it? Is not the house thy house and thy place?” He said, “There was no need to break the bolt.” Then the damsel entered, to the confusion of Amjad, who knew not what to do for fear of the people of the house; but she said to him, “Why dost thou not enter, O light of mine eyes and core of my heart?” Replied he, “I hear and obey; but my servant tarrieth long and I know not if he have done aught of what I bade him and specially enjoined upon him, or not.” Hereupon he entered, sore in fear of the people of the house, and found himself in a handsome saloon with four dais’d recesses, each facing other, and containing closets and raised seats, all bespread with stuffs of silk and brocade; and in the midst was a jetting fountain of costly fashion, on whose margin rested a covered tray of meats, with a leather tablecloth hanging up and gem-encrusted dishes, full of fruits and sweet-scented flowers. Hard by stood drinking vessels and a candlestick with a single wax-candle therein; and the place was full of precious stuffs and was ranged with chests and stools, and on each seat lay a parcel of clothes upon which was a purse full of monies, gold and silver. The floor was paved with marble and the house bore witness in every part to its owner’s fortune. When Amjad saw all this, he was confounded at his case and said to himself, “I am a lost man! Verily we are Allah’s and to Allah we are returning!” As for the damsel, when she sighted the place she rejoiced indeed with a joy nothing could exceed, and said to him, “By Allah, O my lord, thy servant hath not failed of his duty; for see, he hath swept the place and cooked the meat and set on the fruit; and indeed I come at the best of times.” But he paid no heed to her, his heart being taken up with fear of the house-folk; and she said, “Fie, O my lord, O my heart! What aileth thee to stand thus?” Then she sighed and, giving him a buss which sounded like the cracking of a walnut, said, “O my lord, an thou have made an appointment with other than with me, I will gird my middle and serve her and thee. Amjad laughed from a heart full of rage and wrath and came forwards and sat down, panting and saying to himself, “Alack, mine ill death and doom when the owner of the place shall return!” Then she seated herself by him and fell to toying and laughing, whilst Amjad sat careful and frowning, thinking a thousand thoughts and communing with himself, “Assuredly the master of the house cannot but come, and then what shall I say to him? he needs must kill me and my life will be lost thus foolishly.” Presently she rose and, tucking up her sleeves, took a tray of food on which she laid the cloth and then set it before Amjad and began to eat, saying, “Eat, O my lord.” So he came forward and ate; but the food was not pleasant to him; on the contrary he ceased not to look towards the door, till the damsel had eaten her fill, when she took away the tray of the meats and, setting on the dessert, fell to eating of the dried fruits. Then she brought the wine service and opening the jar, filled a cup and handed it to Amjad, who took it from her hand saying to him self, ‘ Ah, ah! and well away, when the master of the house cometh and seeth me!”; and he kept his eyes fixed on the threshold, even with cup in hand. While he was in this case, lo! in came the master of the house, who was a white slave, one of the chief men of the city, being Master of the Horse1 to the King. He had fitted up this saloon for his pleasures, that he might make merry therein and be private with whom he would, and he had that day bidden a youth whom he loved and had made this entertainment for him. Now the name of this slave was Bahádur,2 and he was open of hand, generous, munificent and fain of alms-giving and charitable works. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Amir Yákhúr,” a corruption of “Akhor”=stable (Persian).
2 A servile name in Persian, meaning “the brave,” and a title of honour at the Court of Delhi when following the name. Many English officers have made themselves ridiculous (myself amongst the number) by having it engraved on their seal-rings, e.g. Brown Sáhib Bahádur. To write the word “Behadir” or “Bahádir” is to adopt the wretched Turkish corruption.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Bahadur, the Master of the Horse and the owner of the house, came to the door of the saloon and found it open, he entered slowly and softly and looking in, with head advanced and out stretched neck, saw Amjad and the girl sitting before the dish of fruit and the wine-jar in front of them. Now Amjad at that moment had the cup in his hand and his face turned to the door; and when his glance met Bahadur’s eyes his hue turned pale yellow and his side-muscles quivered, so seeing his trouble Bahadur signed to him with his finger on his lips, as much as to say, “Be silent and come hither to me.” Whereupon he set down the cup and rose and the damsel cried, “Whither away?” He shook his head and, signing to her that he wished to make water, went out into the passage barefoot. Now when he saw Bahadur he knew him for the master of the house; so he hastened to him and, kissing his hands, said to him, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, ere thou do me a hurt, hear what I have to say.” Then he told him who he was from first to last and acquainted him with what caused him to quit his native land and royal state, and how he had not entered his house of his free will, but that it was the girl who had broken the lock-bolt and done all this.1 When Bahadur heard his story and knew that he was a King’s son, he felt for him and, taking compassion on him, said, “Hearken to me, O Amjad, and do what I bid thee and I will guarantee thy safety from that thou fearest; but, if thou cross me, I will kill thee.” Amjad replied, “Command me as thou wilt: I will not gainsay thee in aught; no, never, for I am the freedman of thy bounty.” Rejoined Bahadur, “Then go back forthwith into the saloon, sit down in thy place and be at peace and at thine ease; I will presently come in to thee, and when thou seest me (remember my name is Bahadur) do thou revile me and rail at me, saying, ‘What made thee tarry till so late?’ And accept no excuse from me; nay, so far from it, rise and beat me; and, if thou spare me, I will do away thy life. Enter now and make merry and whatsoever thou seekest of me at this time I will bring thee forthwith; and do thou spend this night as thou wilt and on the morrow wend thy way. This I do in honour of thy strangerhood, for I love the stranger and hold myself bounder to do him devoir.” So Amjad kissed his hand, and, returning to the saloon with his face clad in its natural white and red, at once said to the damsel, “O my mistress, thy presence hath gladdened this thine own place and ours is indeed a blessed night.” Quoth the girl, “Verily I see a wonderful change in thee, that thou now welcomest me so cordially!” So Amjad answered, “By Allah, O my lady, methought my servant Bahadur had robbed me of some necklaces of jewels, worth ten thousand diners each; however, when I went out but now in concern for this, I sought for them and found them in their place. I know not why the slave tarrieth so long and needs must I punish him for it.” She was satisfied with his answer, and they sported and drank and made merry and ceased not to be so till near sundown, when Bahadur came in to them, having changed his clothes and girt his middle and put on shoes, such as are worn of Mamelukes. He saluted and kissed the ground; then held his hands behind him and stood, with his head hanging down, as one who confesseth to a fault. So Amjad looked at him with angry eyes and asked, “Why hast thou tarried till now, O most pestilent of slaves?” Answered Bahadur, “O my lord, I was busy washing my clothes and knew not of thy being here; for our appointed time was nightfall and not day-tide.” But Amjad cried out at him, saying, “Thou liest, O vilest of slaves! By Allah, I must needs beat thee.” So he rose and, throwing Bahadur prone on the ground, took a stick and beat him gently; but the damsel sprang up and, snatching the stick from his hand, came down upon Bahadur so lustily, that in extreme pain the tears ran from his eyes and he ground his teeth together and called out for succour; whilst Amjad cried out to the girl “Don’t”; and she cried out, “Let me satisfy my anger upon him!” till at last he pulled the stick out of her hand and pushed her away. So Bahadur rose and, wiping away his tears from his cheeks, waited upon them the while, after which he swept the hall and lighted the lamps; but as often as he went in and out, the lady abused him and cursed him till Amjad was wroth with her and said, “For Almighty Allah’s sake leave my Mameluke; he is not used to this.” Then they sat and ceased not eating and drinking (and Bahadur waiting upon them) till midnight when, being weary with service and beating, he fell asleep in the midst of the hall and snored and snorted; whereupon the damsel, who was drunken with wine, said to Amjad, “Arise, take the sword hanging yonder and cut me off this slave’s head; and, if thou do it not, I will be the death of thee!” “What possesseth thee to slay my slave?” asked Amjad; and she answered, “Our joyaunce will not be complete but by his death. If thou wilt not kill him, I will do it myself.” Quoth Amjad, “By Allah’s rights to thee, do not this thing!” Quoth she, “It must perforce be;” and, taking down the sword, drew it and made at Bahadur to kill him; but Amjad said in his mind, “This man hath entreated us courteously and sheltered us and done us kindness and made himself my slave: shall we requite him by slaughtering him? This shall never be!” Then he said to the woman, “If my Mameluke must be killed, better I should kill him than thou.” So saying, he took the sword from her and, raising his hand, smote her on the neck and made her head fly from her body. It fell upon Bahadur who awoke and sat up and opened his eyes, when he saw Amjad standing by him and in his hand the sword dyed with blood, and the damsel lying dead. He enquired what had passed, and Amjad told him all she had said, adding, “Nothing would satisfy her but she must slay thee; and this is her reward.” Then Bahadur rose and, kissing the Prince’s hand, said to him, “Would to Heaven thou hadst spared her! but now there is nothing for it but to rid us of her without stay or delay, before the day-break.” Then he girded his loins and took the body, wrapped it in an Abá-cloak and, laying it in a large basket of palm-leaves, he shouldered it saying, “Thou art a stranger here and knowest no one: so sit thou in this place and await my return till day-break. If I come back to thee, I will assuredly do thee great good service and use my endeavours to have news of thy brother; but if by sunrise I return not, know that all is over with me; and peace be on thee, and the house and all it containeth of stuffs and money are thine.” Then he fared forth from the saloon bearing the basket; and, threading the streets, he made for the salt sea, thinking to throw it therein: but as he drew near the shore, he turned and saw that the Chief of Police and his officers had ranged themselves around him; and, on recognising him, they wondered and opened the basket, wherein they found the slain woman. So they seized him and laid him in bilboes all that night till the morning, when they carried him and the basket, as it was, to the King and reported the case. The King was sore enraged when he looked upon the slain and said to Bahadur, “Woe to thee! Thou art always so doing; thou killest folk and castest them into the sea and takest their goods. How many murders hast thou done ere this?” Thereupon Bahadur hung his head. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “Jerry Sneak” would be the English reader’s comment; but in the East all charges are laid upon women.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Bahadur hung down his head groundwards before the King, who cried out at him, saying, “Woe to thee! Who killed this girl?” He replied, “O my lord! I killed her, and there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”1 So the King in his anger, commanded to hang him; and the hangman went down with him by the King’s commandment, and the Chief of Police accompanied him with a crier who called upon all the folk to witness the execution of Bahadur, the King’s Master of the Horse; and on this wise they paraded him through the main streets and the market-streets. This is how it fared with Bahadur; but as regards Amjad, he awaited his host’s return till the day broke and the sun rose, and when he saw that he came not, he exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Would I knew what is become of him?” And, as he sat musing behold, he heard the crier proclaiming Bahadur’s sentence and bidding the people to see the spectacle of his hanging at midday; whereat he wept and exclaimed, “Verily, we are Allah’s and to Him we are returning! He meaneth to sacrifice himself unjustly for my sake, when I it was who slew her. By Allah, this shall never be!” Then he went from the saloon and, shutting the door after him, hurriedly threaded the streets till he overtook Bahadur, when he stood before the Chief of Police and said to him, “O my lord, put not Bahadur to death, for he is innocent. By Allah, none killed her but I.” Now when the Captain of Police heard these words, he took them both and, carrying them before the King, acquainted him with what Amjad had said; whereupon he looked at the Prince and asked him, “Didst thou kill the damsel?” He answered, “Yes” and the King said, “Tell me why thou killedst her, and speak the truth.” Replied Amjad, “O King, it is indeed a marvellous event and a wondrous matter that hath befallen me: were it graven with needles on the eye-corners, it would serve as a warner to whoso would be warned!” Then he told him his whole story and informed him of all that had befallen him and his brother, first and last; whereat the King was much startled and surprised and said to him, “Know that now I find thee to be excusable; but list, O youth! Wilt thou be my Wazír?” “Hearkening and obedience,” answered Amjad whereupon the King bestowed magnificent dresses of honour on him and Bahadur and gave him a handsome house, with eunuchs and officers and all things needful, appointing him stipends and allowances and bidding him make search for his brother As’ad. So Amjad sat down in the seat of the Wazirate and governed and did justice and invested and deposed and took and gave. Moreover, he sent out a crier to cry his brother throughout the city, and for many days made proclamation in the main streets and market-streets, but heard no news of As’ad nor happened on any trace of him. Such was his case; but as regards his brother, the Magi ceased not to torture As’ad night and day and eve and morn for a whole year’s space, till their festival drew near, when the old man Bahram2 made ready for the voyage and fitted out a ship for himself. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Bahram, the Magian, having fitted out a ship for the voyage, took As’ad and put him in a chest which he locked and had it transported on board. Now it so came to pass that, at the very time of shipping it, Amjad was standing to divert himself by looking upon the sea; and when he saw the men carrying the gear and shipping it, his heart throbbed and he called to his pages to bring him his beast. Then, mounting with a company of his officers, he rode down to the sea-side and halted before the Magian’s ship, which he commended his men to board and search. They did his bidding, and boarded the vessel and rummaged in every part, but found nothing; so they returned and told Amjad, who mounted again and rode back. But he felt troubled in mind; and when he reached his place and entered his palace, he cast his eyes on the wall and saw written thereon two lines which were these couplets,
“My friends! if ye are banisht from mine eyes,
From heart and mind ye ne’er go wandering:
But ye have left me in my woe, and rob
Rest from my eyelids while ye are slumbering.”
And seeing them Amjad thought of his brother and wept. Such was his case; but as for Bahram, the Magian, he embarked and shouted and bawled to his crew to make sail in all haste. So they shook out the sails and departed and ceased not to fare on many days and nights; and, every other day, Bahram took out As’ad and gave him a bit of bread and made him drink a sup of water, till they drew near the Mountain of Fire. Then there came out on them a storm-wind and the sea rose against them, so that the ship was driven out of her course till she took a wrong line and fell into strange waters; and, at last they came in sight of a city builded upon the shore, with a castle whose windows overlooked the main. Now the ruler of this city was a Queen called Marjánah, and the captain said to Bahram, “O my lord, we have strayed from our course and come to the island of Queen Marjanah, who is a devout Moslemah; and, if she know that we are Magians, she will take our ship and slay us to the last man. Yet needs must we put in here to rest and refit.” Quoth Bahram, “Right is thy recking, and whatso thou seest fit that will I do!” Said the ship master, “If the Queen summon us and question us, how shall we answer her?”; and Bahram replied, “Let us clothe this Moslem we have with us in a Mameluke’s habit and carry him ashore with us, so that when the Queen sees him, she will suppose and say, ‘This is a slave.’ As for me I will tell her that I am a slave-dealer1 who buys and sells white slaves, and that I had with me many but have sold all save this one, whom I retained to keep my accounts, for he can read and write.” And the captain said “This device should serve.” Presently they reached the city and slackened sail and cast the anchors; and the ship lay still, when behold, Queen Marjanah came down to them, attended by her guards and, halting before the vessel, called out to the captain, who landed and kissed the ground before her. Quoth she, “What is the lading of this thy ship and whom hast thou with thee?”” Quoth he, “O Queen of the Age, I have with me a merchant who dealeth in slaves.” And she said, “Hither with him to me”; whereupon Bahram came ashore to her, with As’ad walking behind him in a slave’s habit, and kissed the earth before her. She asked, “What is thy condition?”; and he answered, “I am a dealer in chattels.” Then she looked at As’ad and, taking him for a Mameluke, asked him, “What is thy name, O youth?” He answered, “Dost thou ask my present or my former name?” “Hast thou then two names?” enquired she, and he replied (and indeed his voice was choked with tears), “Yes; my name aforetime was Al–As’ad, the most happy, but now it is Al-Mu’tarr — Miserrimus.” Her heart inclined to him and she said, “Canst thou write?” “Yes,’’ answered he, and she gave him ink-case and reed-pen and paper and said to him, “Write somewhat that I may see it.” So he wrote these two couplets,
“What can the slave do when pursued by Fate,
O justest Judge! whatever be his state?2
Whom God throws hand bound in the depths and says,
Beware lest water should thy body wet?”3
Now when she read these lines, she had ruth upon him and said to Bahram, “Sell me this slave.” He replied, “O my lady, I cannot sell him, for I have parted with all the rest and none is left with me but he.” Quoth the Queen, “I must need have him of thee, either by sale or way of gift.” But quoth Bahram, “I will neither sell him nor give him.” Whereat she was wroth and, taking As’ad by the hand, carried him up to the castle and sent to Bahram, saying, “Except thou set sail and depart our city this very night, I will seize all thy goods and break up thy ship.” Now when the message reached the Magian, he grieved with sore grief and cried, “Verily this voyage is on no wise to be commended.” Then he arose and made ready and took all he needed and awaited the coming of the night to resume his voyage, saying to the sailors, “Provide yourselves with your things and fill your water-skins, that we may set sail at the last of the night.” So the sailors did their business and awaited the coming of darkness. Such was their case; but as regards Queen Marjanah, when she had brought As’ad into the castle, she opened the casements overlooking the sea and bade her handmaids bring food. They set food before As’ad and herself and both ate, after which the Queen called for wine. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Jalláb,” one of the three muharramát or forbiddens, the Hárik al-hajar (burner of stone) the Káti’ al-shajar (cutter of trees, without reference to Hawarden N. B.) and the Báyi’ al-bashar (seller of men, vulg. Jalláb). The two former worked, like the Italian Carbonari, in desert places where they had especial opportunities for crime. (Pilgrimage iii. 140.) None of these things must be practiced during Pilgrimage on the holy soil of Al–Hijaz — not including Jeddah.
2 The verses contain the tenets of the Murjiy sect which attaches infinite importance to faith and little or none to works. Sale (sect. viii.) derives his “Morgians” from the “Jabrians” (Jabari), who are the direct opponents of the “Kadarians” (Kadari), denying free will and free agency to man and ascribing his actions wholly to Allah. Lane (ii. 243) gives the orthodox answer to the heretical question:—
Water could wet him not if God please guard His own;
Nor need man care though bound of hands in sea he’s thrown:
But if His Lord decree that he in sea be drowned;
He’ll drown albeit in the wild and wold he wone.
It is the old quarrel between Predestination and Freewill which cannot be solved except by assuming a Law without a Lawgiver.
3 Our proverb says: Give a man luck and throw him into the sea.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Queen Marjanah bade her handmaids bring wine and they set it before her, she fell to drinking with As’ad. Now, Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) filled her heart with love for the Prince and she kept filling his cup and handing it to him till his reason fled; and presently he rose and left the hall to satisfy a call of nature. As he passed out of the saloon he saw an open door through which he went and walked on till his walk brought him to a vast garden full of all manner fruits and flowers; and, sitting down under a tree, he did his occasion. Then he rose and went up to a jetting fountain in the garden and made the lesser ablution and washed his hands and face, after which he would have risen to go away; but the air smote him and he fell back, with his clothes undone and slept, and night overcame him thus. So far concerning him; but as concerns Bahram, the night being come, he cried out to his crew, saying, “Set sail and let us away!”; and the’ answered, “We hear and obey, but wait till we fill our water-skins and then we will set sail.” So they landed with their water skins and went round about the castle, and found nothing but garden-walls: whereupon they climbed over into the garden and followed the track of feet, which led them to the fountain; and there they found As’ad lying on his back. They knew him and were glad to find him; and, after filling their water-skins, they bore him off and climbed the wall again with him and carried him back in haste to Bahram to whom they said, “Hear the good tidings of thy winning thy wish; and gladden thy heart and beat thy drums and sound thy pipes; for thy prisoner, whom Queen Marjanah took from thee by force, we have found and brought back to thee”; and they threw As’ad down before him. When Bahram saw him, his heart leapt for joy and his breast swelled with gladness. Then he bestowed largesse on the sailors and bade them set sail in haste. So they sailed forthright, intending to make the Mountain of Fire and stayed not their course till the morning. This is how it fared with them; but as regards Queen Marjanah, she abode awhile, after As’ad went down from her, awaiting his return in vain for he came not; thereupon she rose and sought him, yet found no trace of him. Then she bade her women light flambeaux and look for him, whilst she went forth in person and, seeing the garden-door open, knew that he had gone thither. So she went out into the garden and finding his sandals lying by the fountain, searched the place in every part, but came upon no sign of him; and yet she gave not over the search till morning. Then she enquired for the ship and they told her, “The vessel set sail in the first watch of the night”; wherefor she knew that they had taken As’ad with them, and this was grievous to her and she was sore an-angered. She bade equip ten great ships forthwith and, making ready for fight, embarked in one of the ten with her Mamelukes and slave-women and men-at-arms, all splendidly accoutred and weaponed for war. They spread the sails and she said to the captains, “If you overtake the Magian’s ship, ye shall have of me dresses of honour and largesse of money; but if you fail so to do, I will slay you to the last man.” Whereat fear and great hope animated the crews and they sailed all that day and the night and the second day and the third day till, on the fourth they sighted the ship of Bahram, the Magian, and before evening fell the Queen’s squadron had surrounded it on all sides, just as Bahram had taken As’ad forth of the chest and was beating and torturing him, whilst the Prince cried out for help and deliverance, but found neither helper nor deliverer: and the grievous bastinado sorely tormented him. Now while so occupied, Bahram chanced to look up and, seeing himself encompassed by the Queen’s ships, as the white of the eye encompasseth the black, he gave himself up for lost and groaned and said, “Woe to thee, O As’ad! This is all out of thy head.” Then taking him by the hand he bade his men throw him overboard and cried, “By Allah I will slay thee before I die myself!” So they carried him along by the hands and feet and cast him into the sea and he sank; but Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) willed that his life be saved and that his doom be deferred; so He caused him to sink and rise again and he struck out with his hands and feet, till the Almighty gave him relief, and sent him deliverance; and the waves bore him far from the Magian’s ship and threw him ashore. He landed, scarce crediting his escape, and once more on land he doffed his clothes and wrung them and spread them out to dry; whilst he sat naked and weeping over his condition, and bewailing his calamities and mortal dangers, and captivity and stranger hood. And presently he repeated these two couplets,
“Allah, my patience fails: I have no ward;
My breast is straitened and clean cut my cord;
To whom shall wretched slave of case complain
Save to his Lord? O thou of lords the Lord!”
Then, having ended his verse, he rose and donned his clothes but he knew not whither to go or whence to come; so he fed on the herbs of the earth and the fruits of the trees and he drank of the streams, and fared on night and day till he came in sight of a city; whereupon he rejoiced and hastened his pace; but when he reached it — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when he reached the city the shades of evening closed around him and the gates were shut. Now by the decrees of Pate and man’s lot this was the very city wherein he had been a prisoner and to whose King his brother Amjad was Minister. When As’ad saw the gate was locked, he turned back and made for the burial-ground, where finding a tomb without a door, he entered therein and lay down and fell asleep, with his face covered by his long sleeve.1 Meanwhile, Queen Marjanah, coming up with Bahram’s ship, questioned him of As’ad. Now the Magian, when Queen Marjanah overtook him with her ships, baffled her by his artifice and gramarye; swearing to her that he was not with him and that he knew nothing of him. She searched the ship, but found no trace of her friend, so she took Bahram and, carrying him back to her castle, would have put him to death, but he ransomed himself from her with all his good and his ship; and she released him and his men. They went forth from her hardly believing in their deliverance, and fared on ten days’ journey till they came to their own city and found the gate shut, it being eventide. So they made for the burial-ground, thinking to lie the night there and, going round about the tombs, as Fate and Fortune would have it, saw the building wherein As’ad lay wide open; whereat Bahram marvelled and said, “I must look into this sepulchre.” Then he entered and found As’ad lying in a corner fast asleep, with his head covered by his sleeve; so he raised his head, and looking in his face, knew him for the man on whose account he had lost his good and his ship, and cried, “What! art thou yet alive?” Then he bound him and gagged him without further parley, and carried him to his house, where he clapped heavy shackles on his feet and lowered him into the underground dungeon aforesaid prepared for the tormenting of Moslems, and he bade his daughter by name Bostán,2 torture him night and day, till the next year, when they would again visit the Mountain of Fire and there offer him up as a sacrifice. Then he beat him grievously and locking the dungeon door upon him, gave the keys to his daughter. By and by, Bostan opened the door and went down to beat him, but finding him a comely youth and a sweet-faced with arched brows and eyes black with nature’s Kohl,3 she fell in love with him and asked him, “What is thy name?” “My name is As’ad,” answered he; whereat she cried, “Mayst thou indeed be happy as thy name,4 and happy be thy days! Thou deservest not torture and blows, and I see thou hast been injuriously entreated.” And she comforted him with kind words and loosed his bonds. Then she questioned him of the religion of Al–Islam and he told her that it was the true and right Faith and that our lord Mohammed had approved himself by surpassing miracles5 and signs manifest, and that fire-worship is harmful and not profitable; and he went on to expound to her the tenets of Al–Islam till she was persuaded and the love of the True Faith entered her heart. Then, as Almighty Allah had mixed up with her being a fond affection for As’ad, she pronounced the Two Testimonies6 of the Faith and became of the people of felicity. After this, she brought him meat and drink and talked with him and they prayed together: moreover, she made him chicken stews and fed him therewith, till he regained strength and his sickness left him and he was restored to his former health. Such things befel him with the daughter of Bahram, the Magian; and so it happened that one day she left him and stood at the house-door when behold, she heard the crier crying aloud and saying, “Whoso hath with him a handsome young man, whose favour is thus and thus, and bringeth him forth, shall have all he seeketh of money; but if any have him and deny it, he shall be hanged over his own door and his property shall be plundered and his blood go for naught.” Now As’ad had acquainted Bostan bint Bahram with his whole history: so, when she heard the crier, she knew that it was he who was sought for and, going down to him, told him the news. Then he fared forth and made for the mansion of the Wazir, whom, when As’ad saw, exclaimed, “By Allah, this Minister is my brother Amjad!” Then he went up (and the damsel walking behind him) to the Palace, where he again saw his brother, and threw himself upon him; whereupon Amjad also knew him and fell upon his neck and they embraced each other, whilst the Wazir’s Mamelukes dismounted and stood round them. They lay awhile insensible and, when they came to themselves, Amjad took his brother and carried him to the Sultan, to whom he related the whole story, and the Sultan charged him to plunder Bahram’s house. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 As a rule Easterns, I repeat, cover head and face when sleeping especially in the open air and moonlight. Europeans find the practice difficult, and can learn it only by long habit.
2 Pers. = a flower-garden. In Galland, Bahram has two daughters, Bostama and Cavam a. In the Bres. Edit. the daughter is “Bostan” and the slave-girl “Kawám.”
3 Arab. “Kahíl”=eyes which look as if darkened with antimony: hence the name of the noble Arab breed of horses “Kuhaylat” (Al–Ajuz, etc.).
4 “As’ad”=more (or most) fortunate.
5 This is the vulgar belief, although Mohammed expressly disclaimed the power in the Koran (chaps. xiii. 8), “Thou art commissioned to be a preacher only and not a worker of miracles.” “Signs” (Arab. Ayát) may here also mean verses of the Koran, which the Apostle of Allah held to be his standing miracles. He despised the common miracula which in the East are of everyday occurrence and are held to be easy for any holy man. Hume does not believe in miracles because he never saw one. Had he travelled in the East he would have seen (and heard of) so many that his scepticism (more likely that testimony should be false than miracles be true) would have been based on a firmer foundation. It is one of the marvels of our age that whilst two-thirds of Christendom (the Catholics and the “Orthodox” Greeks) believe in “miracles” occurring not only in ancient but even in our present days, the influential and intelligent third (Protestant) absolutely “denies the fact.”
6 Arab. “Al–Shahádatáni”; testifying the Unity and the Apostleship.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Sultan ordered Amjad to plunder Bahram’s house and to hang its owner. So Amjad despatched thither for that purpose a company of men, who sacked the house and took Bahram and brought his daughter to the Wazir by whom she was received with all honour, for As’ad had told his brother the torments he had suffered and the kindness she had done him. Thereupon Amjad related in his turn to As’ad all that had passed between himself and the damsel; and how he had escaped hanging and had become Wazir; and they made moan, each to other, of the anguish they had suffered for separation. Then the Sultan summoned Bahram and bade strike off his head; but he said, “O most mighty King, art thou indeed resolved to put me to death?” Replied the King, “Yes, except thou save thyself by becoming a Moslem.” Quoth Bahram, “O King, bear with me a little while!” Then he bowed his head groundwards and presently raising it again, made pro fession of The Faith and islamised at the hands of the Sultan. They all rejoiced at his conversion and Amjad and As’ad told him all that had befallen them, whereat he wondered and said, “O my lords, make ready for the journey and I will depart with you and carry you back to your father’s court in a ship.” At this they rejoiced and wept with sore weeping but he said, “O my lords, weep not for your departure, for it shall reunite you with those you love, even as were Ni’amah and Naomi.” “And what befel Ni’amah and Naomi?” asked they. “They tell,” replied Bahram, “(but Allah alone is All knowing) the following tale of
There lived once in the city of Cufa1 a man called Al–Rabí‘a bin Hátim, who was one of the chief men of the town, a wealthy and a healthy, and Heaven had vouchsafed him a son, whom he named Ni’amah Allah.2 One day, being in the slave-brokers’ mart, he saw a woman exposed for sale with a little maid of wonderful beauty and grace on her arm. So he beckoned to the broker and asked him, “How much for this woman and her daughter?” He answered “Fifty dinars.” Quoth Al–Rabi’a “Write the contract of sale and take the money and give it to her owner.” Then he gave the broker the price and his brokerage and taking the woman and her child, carried them to his house. Now when the daughter of his uncle who was his wife saw the slave, she said to her husband, “O my cousin, what is this damsel?” He replied, “Of a truth, I bought her for the sake of the little one on her arm; for know that, when she groweth up, there will not be her like for beauty, either in the land of the Arabs or the Ajams.” His wife remarked, “Right was thy rede”, and said to the woman “What is thy name?” She replied, “O my lady, my name is Tauflík.3” “And what is thy daughter’s name?” asked she? Answered the slave, “Sa’ad, the happy.” Rejoined her mistress; “Thou sayst sooth, thou art indeed happy, and happy is he who hath bought thee.” Then quoth she to her husband, “O my cousin, what wilt thou call her?”; and quoth he, “Whatso thou chooses”; so she said, “Then let us call her Naomi,” and he rejoined “Good is thy device.” The little Naomi was reared with Al–Rabi’a’s son Ni’amah in one cradle, so to speak, till the twain reached the age of ten and each grew handsomer than the other; and the boy used to address her, “O my sister!” and she, “O my brother!”, till they came to that age when Al–Rabi’a said to Ni’amah, “O my son, Naomi is not thy sister but thy slave. I bought her in thy name whilst thou wast yet in the cradle; so call her no more sister from this day forth.” Quoth Ni’amah, “If that be so, I will take her to wife.” Then he went to his mother and told her of this, and she said to him, “O my son, she is thy handmaid.” So he wedded and went in unto Naomi and loved her; and two4 years passed over them whilst in this condition, nor was there in all Cufa a fairer girl than Naomi, or a sweeter or a more graceful. As she grew up she learnt the Koran and read works of science and excelled in music and playing upon all kinds of instruments; and in the beauty of her singing she surpassed all the folk of her time. Now one day as she sat with her husband in the wine chamber, she took the lute, tightened the strings, and sang these two couplets,
“While thou’rt my lord whose bounty’s my estate,
A sword whereby my woes to annihilate,
Recourse I never need to Amru or Zayd,5
Nor aught save thee if way to me grow strait!”
Ni’amah was charmed with these verses and said to her, “By my life, O Naomi, sing to us with the tambourine and other instruments!” So she sang these couplets to a lively measure,
“By His life who holds my guiding rein, I swear
I’ll meet on love ground parlous foe nor care:
Good sooth I’ll vex revilers, thee obey
And quit my slumbers and all joy forswear:
And for thy love I’ll dig in vitals mine
A grave, nor shall my vitals weet ’tis there!”
And Ni’amah exclaimed, “Heaven favoured art thou, O Naomi!” But whilst they led thus the most joyous life, behold! Al–Hajjáj,6 the Viceroy of Cufa said to himself, “Needs must I contrive to take this girl named Naomi and send her to the Commander of the Faithful, Abd al-Malik bin Marwán, for he hath not in his palace her like for beauty and sweet singing.” So he summoned an old woman of the duennas of his wives and said to her, “Go to the house of Al–Rabi’a and foregather with the girl Naomi and combine means to carry her off; for her like is not to be found on the face of the earth.” She promised to do his bidding; the next morning she donned the woollen clothes of a devotee and hung around her neck a rosary of beads by the thousand; and, henting in hand a staff and a leather water bottle of Yamani manufacture. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The name is indifferently derived from the red sand about the town or the reeds and mud with which it was originally built. It was founded by the Caliph Omar, when the old Capital–Madáin (Ctesiphon) opposite was held unwholesome, on the West bank of the Euphrates, four days’ march from Baghdad and has now disappeared. Al–Saffáh, the first Abbaside, made it his Capital — and it became a famous seat of Moslem learning; the Kufi school of Arab Grammarians being as renowned as their opponents, the Basri (of Bassorah). It gave a name to the “Cufic” characters which are, however, of much older date.
2 “Ni’amat” = a blessing, and the word is perpetually occurring in Moslem conversation, “Ni’amatu’lláh” (as pronounced) is also a favourite P.N. and few Anglo–Indians of the Mutiny date will forget the scandalous disclosures of Munshi Ni’amatu ’llah, who had been sent to England by Nana Sahib. Nu’m = prosperity, good fortune, and a P. N. like the Heb. “Naomi.”
3 i.e. “causing to be prosperous”, the name, corrupted by the Turks to “Tevfik,” is given to either sex, e.g. Taufik Pasha of Egypt, to whose unprosperous rule and miserable career the signification certainly does not apply.
4 Lane (ii. 187) alters the two to four years.
5 i.e. “to Tom, Dick or Harry:” the names like John Doe and Richard Roe are used indefinitely in Arab. Grammar and Syntax. I have noted that Amru is written and pronounced Amr: hence Amru, the Conqueror of Egypt, when told by an astrologer that Jerusalem would be taken only by a trium literarum homo, with three letters in his name sent for the Caliph Omar (Omr), to whom the so-called Holy City at once capitulated. Hence also most probably, the tale of Bhurtpore and the Lord Alligator (Kumbhir), who however did not change from Cotton to Combermore for some time after the successful siege.
6 BinYúsuf al-Sakafi, a statesman and soldier of the seventh and eighth centuries (A.D.). He was Governor of Al–Hij az and Al–Irak under the fifth and sixth Ommiades, and I have noticed his vigorous rule of the Moslems’ Holy Land in my Pilgrimage (iii. 194, etc.). He pulled down the Ka’abah and restored it to the condition in which it now is. Al–Siyuti (p. 219) accuses him of having suborned a man to murder Ibn Omar with a poisoned javelin, and of humiliating the Prophet’s companions by “sealing them in the necks and hands,” that is he tied a thong upon the neck of each and sealed the knot with lead. In Irak he showed himself equally masterful, but an iron hand was required by the revolutionists of Kufah and Basrah. He behaved like a good Knight in rescuing the Moslem women who called upon his name when taken prisoners by Dahir of Debal (Tathá in Sind). Al–Hajjaj was not the kind of man the Caliph would have chosen for a pander; but the Shi’ahs hates him and have given him a lasting bad name. In the East men respect manly measures, not the hysterical, philanthropic pseudo-humanitarianism of our modern government which is really the cruellest of all. When Ziyád bin Abihi was sent by Caliph Mu’awiyah to reform Bassorah, a den of thieves, he informed the lieges that he intended to rule by the sword and advised all evil-doers to quit the city. The people were forbidden, under pain of teeth, to walk the streets after prayers, on the first night two hundred suffered; on the second five and none afterwards. Compare this with our civilised rule in Egypt where even bands of brigands, a phenomenon perfectly new and unknown to this century, have started up, where crime has doubled in quantity and quality, and where “Christian rule” has thoroughly scandalised a Moslem land.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman promised to do the bidding of Al–Hajjaj, and whenas it was morning she donned the woollen clothes of a devotee1 and hung around her neck a rosary of beads by the thousand and hent in hand a staff and a leather water bottle of Yamani manufacture and fared forth crying, “Glory be to Allah! Praised be Allah! There is no god but the God! Allah is Most Great! There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Nor did she leave off her lauds and her groaning in prayer whilst her heart was full of guile and wiles, till she came to the house of Ni’amah bin al-Rabi’a at the hour of noon prayer, and knocked at the door. The doorkeeper opened and said to her, “What dost thou want?” Quoth she, “I am a poor pious woman, whom the time of noon prayer hath overtaken, and fief would I pray in this blessed place.” Answered the porter, “O old woman, this is no mosque nor oratory, but the house of Ni’amah son of al Rabi’a.” She replied, “I know there is neither cathedral-mosque nor oratory like the house of Ni’amah bin al-Rabi’a. I am a chamberwoman of the palace of the Prince of True Believers and am come out for worship and the visitation of Holy Places.” But the porter rejoined, “Thou canst not enter;” and many words passed between them, till at last she caught hold and hung to him saying, “Shall the like of me be denied admission to the house of Ni’amah bin al-Rabi’a, I who have free access to the houses of Emirs and Grandees?” Anon, out came Ni’amah and, hearing their loud language, laughed and bade the old woman enter after him. So she followed him into the presence of Naomi, whom she saluted after the godliest and goodliest fashion, and, when she looked on her, she was confounded at her exceeding seemliness and said to her, “O my lady, I commend thee to the safeguard of Allah, who made thee and thy lord fellows in beauty and loveliness!” Then she stood up in the prayer niche and betook herself to inclination and prostration and prayer, till day departed and night darkened and starkened, when Naomi said to her, “O my mother, rest thy legs and feet awhile.” Replied the old woman “O my lady, whoso seeketh the world to come let him weary him in this world, and whoso wearieth not himself in this world shall not attain the dwellings of the just in the world to come.” Then Naomi brought her food and said to her, “Eat of my bread and pray Heaven to accept my penitence and to have mercy on me.” But she cried, “O my lady, I am fasting. As for thee, thou art but a girl and it befitteth thee to eat and drink and make merry; Allah be indulgent to thee!; for the Almighty saith: All shall be punished except him who shall repent and believe and shall work a righteous work.”2 So Naomi continued sitting with the old woman in talk and presently said to Ni’amah, “O my lord, conjure this ancient dame to sojourn with us awhile, for piety and devotion are imprinted on her countenance.” Quoth he, “Set apart for her a chamber where she may say her prayers; and suffer no one to go in to her: peradventure, Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) shall prosper us by the blessing of her presence and never separate us.” So the old woman passed her night in praying and reciting the Koran; and when Allah caused the morn to dawn, she went in to Ni’amah and Naomi and, giving them good morning, said to them, “I pray Allah have you in His holy keeping!” Quoth Naomi, “Whither away, O my mother? My lord hath bidden me set apart for thee a chamber, where thou mayst seclude thee for thy devotions.” Replied the old woman, “Allah give him long life, and continue His favour to you both! But I would have you charge the doorkeeper not to stay my coming in to you; and, Inshallah! I will go the round of the Holy Places and pray for you two at the end of my devotions every day and night.” Then she went out (whilst Naomi wept for parting with her knowing not the cause of her coming), and returned to Al–Hajjaj who said to her, “As thou do my bidding soon, thou shalt have of me abundant good.” Quoth she, “I ask of thee a full month;” and quoth he “Take the month.” Thereupon the old hag fell to daily visiting Ni’amah’s house and frequented his slave-wife, Naomi. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The old bawd’s portrait is admirably drawn: all we dwellers in the East have known her well: she is so and so. Her dress and manners are the same amongst the Hindus (see the hypocritical-female ascetic in the Katha, p. 287) as amongst the Moslems; men of the world at once recognise her and the prudent keep out of her way. She is found in the cities of Southern Europe, ever pious, ever prayerful; and she seems to do her work not so much for profit as for pure or impure enjoyment. In the text her task was easy, as she had to do with a pair of innocents.
2 Koran, xxv. 70. I give Sale’s version.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old hag fell to visiting daily Ni’amah’s house and frequenting his slave wife, Naomi; and both ceased not to honour her, and she used to go in to them morning and evening and all in the house respected her till, one day, being alone with Naomi, she said to her, “O my lady! by Allah, when I go to the Holy Places, I will pray for thee; and I only wish thou wert with me, that thou mightest look on the Elders of the Faith who resort thither, and they should pray for thee, according to thy desire.” Naomi cried, “I conjure thee by Allah take me with thee!”; and she replied, “Ask leave of thy mother in law, and I will take thee.” So Naomi said to her husband’s mother, “O my lady, ask my master to let us go forth, me and thee, one day with this my old mother, to prayer and worship with the Fakirs in the Holy Places.” Now when Ni’amah came in and sat down, the old woman went up to him and would have kissed his hand, but he forbade her; so she invoked blessings1 on him and left the house. Next day she came again, in the absence of Ni’amah, and she addressed Naomi, saying, “We prayed for thee yesterday; but arise now and divert thyself and return ere thy lord come home.” So Naomi said to her mother-in-law, “I beseech thee, for Allah’s sake, give me leave to go with this pious woman, that I may sight the saints of Allah in the Holy Places, and return speedily ere my lord come back.” Quoth Ni’amah’s mother, “I fear lest thy lord know;” but said the old woman, “By Allah, I will not let her take seat on the floor; no, she shall look, standing on her feet, and not tarry.” So she took the damsel by guile and, carrying her to Al–Hajjaj’s palace, told him of her coming, after placing her in a lonely chamber; whereupon he went in to her and, looking upon her, saw her to be the loveliest of the people of the day, never had he beheld her like. Now when Naomi caught sight of him she veiled her face from him; but he left her not till he had called his Chamberlain, whom he commanded to take fifty horsemen; and he bade him mount the damsel on a swift dromedary, and bear her to Damascus and there deliver her to the Commander of the Faithful, Abd al-Malik bin Marwan. Moreover, he gave him a letter for the Caliph, saying, “Bear him this letter and bring me his answer and hasten thy return to me.” So the Chamberlain, without losing time, took the damsel (and she tearful for separation from her lord) and, setting out with her on a dromedary, gave not over journeying till he reached Damascus. There he sought audience of the Commander of the Faithful and, when it was granted, the Chamberlain delivered the damsel and reported the circumstance. The Caliph appointed her a separate apartment and going into his Harim, said to his wife, “Al Hajjaj hath bought me a slave-girl of the daughters of the Kings of Cufa2 for ten thousand dinars, and hath sent me this letter.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Easterns, I have observed, have no way of saying “Thank you;” they express it by a blessing or a short prayer. They have a right to your surplus: daily bread is divided, they say and, eating yours, they consider it their own. I have discussed this matter in Pilgrimage i. 75–77, in opposition to those who declare that “gratitude” is unknown to Moslems.
2 Cufa (Kufah) being a modern place never had a “King,” but as the Hindu says, “ Delhi is far” it is a far cry to Loch Awe. Here we can hardly understand “Malik” as Governor or Viceroy: can it be syn. with Zú-mál-(moneyed)?
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph acquainted his wife with the story of the slave-girl, she said to him, “Allah increase to thee His favour!” Then the Caliph’s sister went in to the supposed slave-girl and, when she saw her, she said, “By Allah, not unlucky is the man who hath thee in his house, were thy cost an hundred thousand dinars!” And Naomi replied, “O fair of face, what King’s palace is this, and what is the city?” She answered, “This is the city of Damascus, and this is the palace of my brother, the Commander of the Faithful, Abd al-Malik bin Marwan.1” Then she resumed, “Didst thou not know all this?” Naomi said, “By Allah, O my lady, I had no knowledge of it!”; when the other asked, “And he who sold thee and took thy price did he not tell thee that the Caliph had bought thee?” Now when Naomi heard these words, she shed tears and said to herself, “Verily, I have been tricked and the trick hath succeeded,” adding to herself, “If I speak, none will credit me; so I will hold my peace and take patience, for I know that the relief of Allah is near.” Then she bent her head for shame, and indeed her cheeks were tanned by the journey and the sun. So the Caliph’s sister left her that day and returned to her on the morrow with clothes and necklaces of jewels, and dressed her; after which the Caliph came in to her and sat down by her side, and his sister said to him, “Look on this handmaid in whom Allah hath conjoined every perfection of beauty and loveliness.” So he said to Naomi, “Draw back the veil from thy face;” but she would not unveil, and he beheld not her face. However, he saw her wrists and love of her entered his heart; and he said to his sister, “I will not go in unto her for three days, till she be cheered by thy converse.” Then he arose and left her, but Naomi ceased not to brood over her case and sigh for her separation from her master, Ni’amah, till she fell sick of a fever during the night and ate not nor drank; and her favour faded and her charms were changed. They told the Caliph of this and her condition grieved him; so he visited her with physicians and men of skill, but none could come at a cure for her. This is how it fared with her; but as regards Ni’amah, when he returned home he sat down on his bed and cried, “Ho, Naomi!” But she answered not; so he rose in haste and called out, yet none came to him, as all the women in the house had hidden themselves for fear of him. Then he went out to his mother, whom he found sitting with her cheek on her hand, and said to her, “O my mother, where is Naomi?” She answered, “O my son, she is with one who is worthier than I to be trusted with her, namely, the devout old woman; she went forth with her to visit devotionally the Fakirs and return.” Quoth Ni’amah, “Since when hath this been her habit and at what hour went she forth?” Quoth his mother, “She went out early in the morning.” He asked, “And how camest thou to give her leave for this?”; and she answered, “O my son, ’twas she persuaded me.” “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” exclaimed Ni’amah and, going forth from his home in a state of distraction, he repaired to the Captain of the Watch to whom said he, “Doss thou play tricks upon me and steal-my slave-girl away from my house? I will assuredly complain of thee to the Commander of the Faithful.” Said the Chief of Police, “Who hath taken her?” and Ni’amah replied, “An old woman of such and such a mien, clad in woollen raiment and carrying a rosary of beads numbered by thousands.” Rejoined the other, “Find me the old woman and I will get thee back thy slave-girl.” “And who knows the old woman?” retorted Ni’amah. “And who knows the hidden things save Allah (may He be extolled and exalted!)?” cried the Chief, who knew her for Al–Hajjaj’s procuress. Cried Ni’amah, “I look to thee for my slave-girl, and Al–Hajjaj shall judge between thee and me;” and the Master of Police answered, “Go to whom thou wilt.” So Ni’amah went to the palace of Al–Hajjaj, for his father was one of the chief men of Cufa; and, when he arrived there, the Chamberlain went in to the Governor and told him the case; whereupon Al–Hajjaj said, “Hither with him!” and when he stood before him enquired, “What be thy business?” Said Ni’amah, “Such and such things have befallen me;” and the Governor said, “Bring me the Chief of Police, and we will commend him to seek for the old woman.” Now he knew that the Chief of Police was acquainted with her; so, when he came, he said to him, “I wish thee to make search for the slave-girl of Ni’amah son of Al–Rabi’a.” And he answered, “None knoweth the hidden things save Almighty Allah.” Rejoined Al–Hajjaj, “There is no help for it but thou send out horsemen and look for the damsel in all the roads, and seek for her in the towns.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Abd al-Malik has been before mentioned as the “Sweat of a Stone,” etc. He died recommending Al–Hajjaj to his son, Al–Walid, and one of his sayings is still remembered. “He who desireth to take a female slave for carnal-enjoyment, let him take a native of Barbary; if he need one for the sake of children, let him have a Persian; and whoso desireth one for service, let him take a Greek.” Moderns say, “If you want a brother (in arms) try a Nubian; one to get you wealth an Abyssinian and if you want an ass (for labour) a Sáwahíli, or Zanzibar negroid.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Al–Hajjaj said to the Captain of the Watch, “There is no help for it but thou send out horsemen, and look for the damsel on all the roads and seek for her in the towns.” Then he turned to Ni’amah and said to him, “And thy slave-girl return not, I will give thee ten slave-girls from my house and ten from that of the Chief of Police.” And he again bade the Captain of the Watch, “Go and seek for the girl.” So he went out, and Ni’amah returned home full of trouble and despairing of life; for he had now reached the age of fourteen and there was yet no hair on his side cheeks. So he wept and lamented and shut himself up from his household; and ceased not to weep and lament, he and his mother, till the morning, when his father came in to him and said, “O my son, of a truth, Al–Hajjaj hath put a cheat upon the damsel and hath taken her; but from hour to hour Allah giveth relief.” However grief redoubled on Ni’amah, so that he knew not what he said nor knew he who came in to him, and he fell sick for three months his charms were changed, his father despaired of him and the physicians visited him and said, “There is no remedy for him save the damsel.” Now as his father was sitting one day, behold he heard tell of a skillful Persian physician, whom the folk gave out for perfect in medicine and astrology and geomancy. So Al–Rabi’a sent for him and, seating him by his side, entreated him with honour and said to him, “Look into my son’s case.” Thereupon quoth he to Ni’amah, “Give me thy hand.” The young man gave him his hand and he felt his pulse and his joints and looked in his face; then he laughed and, turning to his father, said, “Thy son’s sole ailment is one of the heart.”1 He replied, Thou sayest sooth, O sage, but apply thy skill to his state and case, and acquaint me with the whole thereof and hide naught from me of his condition.” Quoth the Persian, “Of a truth he is enamoured of a slave-girl and this slave-girl is either in Bassorah or Damascus; and there is no remedy for him but reunion with her.” Said Al–Rabi’a, “An thou bring them together, thou shalt live all thy life in wealth and delight.” Answered the Persian, “In good sooth this be an easy matter and soon brought about,” and he turned to Ni’amah and said to him, “No hurt shall befall thee; so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear.” Then quoth he to Al–Rabi’a, “Bring me out four thousand dinars of your money;” so he gave them to him, and he added, “I wish to carry thy son with me to Damascus; and Almighty Allah willing, I will not return thence but with the damsel.” Then he turned to the youth and asked, “What is thy name?”; and he answered “Ni’amah.” Quoth the Persian, “O Ni’amah, sit up and be of good heart, for Allah will reunite thee with the damsel.” And when he sat up the leach continued, “Be of good cheer for we set out for Damascus this very day: put thy trust in the Lord and eat and drink and be cheerful so as to fortify thyself for travel.” Upon this the Persian began making preparation of all things needed, such as presents and rarities; and he took of Al–Rabi’a in all the sum of ten thousand dinars, together with horses and camels and beasts of burden and other requisites. Then Ni’amah farewelled his father and mother and journeyed with the physician to Aleppo. They could find no news of Naomi there so they fared on to Damascus, where they abode three days, after which the Persian took a shop and he adorned even the shelves with vessels of costly porcelain, with covers of silver, and with gildings and stuffs of price. Moreover, he set before himself vases and flagons of glass full of all manner of ointments and ups, and he surrounded them with cups of crystal — and, placing astrolabe and geomantic tablet facing him, he donned a physician’s habit and took his seat in the shop. Then he set Ni’amah standing before him clad in a shirt and gown of silk and, girding his middle with a silken kerchief gold-embroidered, said to him, “O Ni’amah, henceforth thou art my son; so call me naught but sire, and I will call thee naught but son.” And he replied, “I hear and I obey.” Thereupon the people of Damascus flocked to the Persian’s shop that they might gaze on the youth’s goodliness and the beauty of the shop and its contents, whilst the physician spoke to Ni’amah in Persian and he answered him in the same tongue, for he knew the language, after the wont of the sons of the notables. So that Persian doctor soon became known among the townsfolk and they began to acquaint him with their ailments, and he to prescribe for them remedies. Moreover, they brought him the water of the sick in phials,2 and he would test it and say, “He, whose water this is, is suffering from such and such a disease,” and the patient would declare, “Verily this physician sayeth sooth.” So he continued to do the occasions of the folk and they to flock to him, till his fame spread throughout the city and into the houses of the great. Now, one day as he sat in his-shop, behold, there came up an old woman riding on an ass with a stuffed saddle of brocade embroidered with jewels; and, stopping before the Persian’s shop, drew rein and beckoned him, saying, “Take my hand.” He took her hand, and she alighted and asked him “Art thou the Persian physician from Irak?” “Yes,” answered he, and she said, “Know that I have a sick daughter.” Then she brought out to him a phial — and the Persian looked at it and said to her, “O my mistress, tell me thy daughter’s name, that I may calculate her horoscope and learn the hour in which it will befit her to drink medicine.” She replied, “O my brother the Persian,3 her name is Naomi.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Probably suggested by the history of Antiochus and Stratonice, with an addition of Eastern mystery such as geomancy.
2 Arab, “Kárúrah”: the “water-doctor” has always been an institution in the east and he has lately revived in Europe especially at the German baths and in London.
3 Lane makes this phrase “O brother of the Persians!” synonymous with “O Persian!” I think it means more, a Persian being generally considered “too clever by half.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Persian heard the name of Naomi, he fell to calculating and writing on his hand and presently said, “O my lady, I cannot prescribe a medicine for her till I know what country woman she is, because of the difference of climate: so tell me in what land she was brought up and what is her age.” The old woman replied “She is fourteen years old and she was brought up in Cufa of Irak.” He asked, “And how long hath she sojourned in this country?” “But a few months,” answered she. Now when Ni’amah heard the old woman’s words and recognised the name of his slave-girl, his heart fluttered and he was like to faint. Then said the Persian, “Such and such medicines will suit her case;” and the old woman rejoined, “Then make them up and give me what thou hast mentioned, with the blessing of Almighty Allah.” So saying, she threw upon the shop board ten gold pieces, and he looked at Ni’amah and bade him prepare the necessary drugs; whereupon she also looked at the youth and exclaimed, “Allah have thee in his keeping, O my son! Verily, she favoureth thee in age and mien.” Then said she to the physician, “O my brother the Persian, is this thy slave or thy son?” “He is my son,” answered he. So Ni’amah put up the medicine and, placing it in a little box, took a piece of paper and wrote thereon these two couplets,1
“If Naomi bless me with a single glance,
Let Su’adá sue and
Juml joy to
They said, “Forget her: twenty such thou’lt find.”
But none is like her — I will not forget!”
He pressed the paper into the box and, sealing it up, wrote upon the cover the following words in Cufic characters, “I am Ni’amah of al-Rabi’a of Cufa.” Then he set it before the old woman who took it and bade them farewell and returned to the Caliph’s palace, and when she went up with the drugs to the damsel she placed the little box of medicine at her feet, saying, “O my lady, know that there is lately come to our town a Persian physician, than whom I never saw a more skilful nor a better versed in matters of malady. I told him thy name, after showing him the water-bottle, and forthwith he knew thine ailment and prescribed a remedy. Then he bade his son make thee up this medicine; and there is not in Damascus a comelier or a seemlier youth than this lad of his, nor hath anyone a shop the like of his shop.” So Naomi took the box and, seeing the names of her lord and his father written on the cover, changed colour and said to herself, “Doubtless, the owner of this shop is come in search of me.” So she said to the old woman, “Describe to me this youth.” Answered the old woman, “His name is Ni’amah, he hath a mole on his right eyebrow, is richly clad and is perfectly handsome.” Cried Naomi, “Give me the medicine, whereon be the blessing and help of Almighty Allah!” So she drank off the potion (and she laughing) and said, “Indeed, it is a blessed medicine!” Then she sought in the box and, finding the paper, opened it, read it, understood it and knew that this was indeed her lord, whereas her heart was solaced and she rejoiced. Now when the old woman saw her laughing, she exclaimed, “This is indeed a blessed day!”; and Naomi said, “O nurse, I have a mind for something to eat and drink.” The old woman said to the serving women, “Bring a tray of dainty viands for your mistress;” whereupon they set food before her and she sat down to eat. And behold in came the Caliph who, seeing her sitting at meat, rejoiced; and the old woman said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, I give thee joy of thy hand maid Naomi’s recovery! And the cause is that there is lately come to this our city a physician than whom I never saw a better versed in diseases and their remedies. I fetched her medicine from him and she hath drunken of it but once and is restored to health.” Quoth he, “Take a thousand dinars and apply thyself to her treatment, till she be completely recovered.” And he went away, rejoicing in the damsel’s recovery, whilst the old woman betook herself to the Persian’s house and delivered the thousand dinars, giving him to know that she was become the Caliph’s slave and also handing him a letter which Naomi had written. He took it and gave the letter to Ni’amah, who at first sight knew her hand and fell down in a swoon. When he revived he opened the letter and found these words written therein: “From the slave despoiled of her Ni’amah, her delight; her whose reason hath been beguiled and who is parted from the core of her heart. But afterwards of a truth thy letter hath reached me and hath broadened my breast, and solaced my soul, even as saith the poet,
“Thy note came: long lost hungers wrote that note,
Till drop they sweetest scents for what they wrote:
Twas Moses to his mother’s arms restored;
’Twas Jacob’s eye-sight cured by Joseph’s coat!”2
When Ni’amah read these verses, his eyes ran over with tears and the old woman said to him, “What maketh thee to weep, O my son? Allah never cause thine eye to shed tears!” Cried the Persian, “O my lady, how should my son not weep, seeing that this is his slave-girl and he her lord, Ni’amah son of al-Rabi’a of Cufa; and her health dependeth on her seeing him, for naught aileth her but loving him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The verses deal in untranslatable word-plays upon women’s names, Naomi (the blessing) Su’adá or Su’ád (the happy, which Mr. Redhouse, in Ka’ab’s Mantle-poem, happily renders Beatrice); and Juml (a sum or total) the two latter, moreover, being here fictitious.
2 “And he (Jacob) turned from them, and said, ‘O how I am grieved for Joseph’ And his eyes became white with mourning. . . . (Quoth Joseph to his brethren), ‘Take this my inner garment and throw it on my father’s face and he shall recover his sight.’ . . . So, when the messenger of good tidings came (to Jacob) he threw it (the shirt) over his face and he recovered his eye-sight.” Koran, xii. 84, 93, 96. The commentators, by way of improvement, assure us that the shirt was that worn by Abraham when thrown into the fire (Koran, chaps. xvi.) by Nimrod (!). We know little concerning “Jacob’s daughters” who named the only bridge spanning the upper Jordan, and who have a curious shrine tomb near Jewish “Safe” (North of Tiberias), one of the four “Holy Cities.” The Jews ignore these “daughters of Jacob” and travellers neglect them.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Persian cried out to the old woman, “How shall my son not weep, seeing that this is his slave-girl and he her lord, Ni’amah son of al-Rabi’a of Cufa; and the health of this damsel dependeth on her seeing him and naught aileth her but loving him. So, do thou, O my lady, take these thousand dinars to thyself and thou shalt have of me yet more than this; only look on us with eyes of rush; for we know not how to bring this affair to a happy end save through thee.” Then she said to Ni’amah, “Say, art thou indeed her lord?” He replied, “Yes,” and she rejoined, “Thou sayest sooth; for she ceaseth not continually to name thee.” Then he told her all that had passed from first to last, and she said, “O youth, thou shalt owe thy reunion with her to none but myself.” So she mounted and, at once returning to Naomi, looked in her face and laughed saying, “It is just, O my daughter, that thou weep and fall sick for thy separation from thy master, Ni’amah, son of Al–Rabi’a of Cufa.” Quoth Naomi, “Verily, the veil hath been withdrawn for thee and the truth revealed to thee.” Rejoined the old woman, “Be of good cheer and take heart, for I will assuredly bring you together, though it cost me my life.” Then she returned to Ni’amah and said to him, “I went to thy slave-girl and conversed with her, and I find that she longeth for thee yet more than thou for her; for although the Commander of the Faithful is minded to become intimate with her, she refuseth herself to him. But if thou be stout of purpose and firm of heart, I will bring you together and venture my life for you, and play some trick and make shift to carry thee into the Caliph’s palace, where thou shalt meet her, for she cannot come forth.” And Ni’amah answered, “Allah requite thee with good!” Then she took leave of him and went back to Naomi and said, “Thy lord is indeed dying of love for thee and would fain see thee and foregather with thee. What sayest thou?” Naomi replied, “And I too am longing for his sight and dying for his love.” Whereupon the old woman took a parcel of women’s clothes and ornaments and, repairing to Ni’amah, said to him, “Come with me into some place apart.” So he brought her into the room behind the shop where she stained his hands and decked his wrists and plaited his hair, after which she clad him in a slave-girl’s habit and adorned him after the fairest fashion of woman’s adornment, till he was as one of the Houris of the Garden of Heaven, and when she saw him thus she exclaimed, “Blessed be Allah, best of Creators! By Allah, thou art handsomer than the damsel.1 Now, walk with thy left shoulder forwards and thy right well behind, and sway thy hips from side to side.”2 So he walked before her, as she bade him; and, when she saw he had caught the trick of woman’s gait, she said to him, “Expect me tomorrow night, and Allah willing, I will take and carry thee to the palace. But when thou seest the Chamberlains and the Eunuchs be bold, and bow thy head and speak not with any, for I will prevent their speech; and with Allah is success!” Accordingly, when the morning dawned, she returned and, carrying him to the palace, entered before him and he after her step by step. The Chamberlain would have stopped his entering, but the old woman said to him, “O most ill omened of slaves, this is the handmaid of Naomi, the Caliph’s favourite. How durst thou stay her when she would enter?” Then said she, “Come in, O damsel!”; and the old woman went in and they ceased not faring on, till they drew near the door leading to the inner piazza of the palace, when she said to him, “O Ni’amah, hearten thyself and take courage and enter and turn to the left: then count five doors and pass through the sixth, for it is that of the place prepared for thee. Fear nothing, and if any speak to thee, answer not, neither stop.” Then she went up with him to the door, and the Chamberlain there on guard accosted her, saying “What damsel is this?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Easterns, I have remarked, mostly recognise the artistic truth that the animal-man is handsomer than woman and that “fair sex” is truly only of skin-colour. The same is the general-rule throughout creation, for instance the stallion compared with the mare, the cock with the hen; while there are sundry exceptions such as the Falconidae.
2 The Badawi (who is nothing if not horsey) compares the gait of a woman who walks well (in Europe rarely seen out of Spain) with the slightly swinging walk of a thoroughbred mare, bending her graceful neck and looking from side to side at objects as she passes.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Chamberlain accosted the old woman, saying, “What damsel is this?”; quoth the ancient dame, “Our lady hath a mind to buy her;” and he rejoined, “None may enter save by leave of the Commander of the Faithful; so do thou go back with her. I can not let her pass for thus am I commanded.” Replied the old woman, “O Chief Chamberlain, use thy reason. Thou knowest that Naomi, the Caliph’s slave-girl, of whom he is enamoured, is but now restored to health and the Commander of the Faithful hardly yet crediteth her recovery. She is minded to buy this hand maid; so oppose thou not her entrance, lest haply it come to Naomi’s knowledge and she be wroth with thee and suffer a relapse and this cause thy head to be cut off.” Then said she to Ni’amah, “Enter, O damsel; pay no heed to what he saith and tell not the Queen-consort that her Chamberlain opposed thine entrance.” So Ni’amah bowed his head and entered the palace, and would have turned to the left, but mistook the direction and walked to his right; and, meaning to count five doors and enter the sixth, he counted six and entering the seventh, found himself in a place whose floor was carpeted with brocade and whose walls were hung with curtains of gold-embroidered silk. And therein stood censers of aloes-wood and ambergris and strong-scented musk, and at the upper end was a couch bespread with cloth of gold on which he seated himself, marvelling at the magnificence he saw and knowing not what was written for him in the Secret Purpose. As he sat musing on his case, the Caliph’s sister, followed by her handmaid, came in upon him; and, seeing the youth seated there took him for a slave-girl and accosted him and said, “Who art thou O damsel? and what is thy case and who brought thee hither?” He made no reply, and was silent, when she continued, “O damsel! if thou be one of my brother’s concubines and he be wroth with thee, I will intercede with him for thee and get thee grace.” But he answered her not a word; so she said to her slave-girl, “Stand at the door and let none enter.” Then she went up to Ni’amah and looking at him was amazed at his beauty and said to him, “O lady, tell me who thou art and what is thy name and how thou camest here; for I have never seen thee in our palace.” Still he answered not, whereat she was angered and, putting her hand to his bosom, found no breasts and would have unveiled him, that she might know who he was; but he said to her, “O my lady, I am thy slave and I cast myself on thy protection: do thou protect me.” She said, “No harm shall come to thee, but tell me who thou art and who brought thee into this my apartment.” Answered he, “O Princess, I am known as Ni’amah bin al-Rabi’a of Cufa and I have ventured my life for the sake of my slave-girl, Naomi, whom Al–Hajjaj took by sleight and sent hither.” Said she, “Fear not: no harm shall befall thee;” then, calling her maid, she said to her, “Go to Naomi’s chamber and send her to me.” Meanwhile the old woman went to Naomi’s bedroom and said to her, “Hath thy lord come to thee?” “No, by Allah!” answered Naomi, and the other said, “Belike he hath gone astray and entered some chamber other than thine and lost himself.” So Naomi cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Our last hour is come and we are all lost.” And while they were sitting and sadly enough pondering their case, in came the Princess’s handmaid and saluting Naomi said to her, “My lady biddeth thee to her banquet.” “I hear and I obey,” answered the damsel and the old woman said, “Belike thy lord is with the Caliph’s sister and the veil of secrecy hath been rent.” So Naomi at once sprang up and betook herself to the Princess, who said to her, “Here is thy lord sitting with me; it seemeth he hath mistaken the place; but, please Allah, neither thou nor he has any cause for fear.” When Naomi heard these words, she took heart of grace and went up to Ni’amah; and her lord when he saw her. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ni’amah saw his handmaid Naomi, he rose to meet her and strained her to his bosom and both fell to the ground fainting. As soon as they came to themselves, the Caliph’s sister said to them, “Sit ye down and take we counsel for your deliverance from this your strait.” And they answered, “O our lady, we hear and obey: it is thine to command.” Quoth she, “By Allah, no harm shall befall you from us!” Then she bade her handmaids bring meat and drink which was done, and they sat down and ate till they had enough, after which they sat drinking. Then the cup went round amongst them and their cares ceased from them; but Ni’amah said, “Would I knew how this will end.” The Princess asked, “O Ni’amah, dost thou love thy slave Naomi?”; and he answered, “Of a truth it is my passion for her which hath brought me to this state of peril for my life.” Then said she to the damsel, “O Naomi, dost thou love thy lord Ni’amah?”; and she replied, “O my lady, it is the love of him which hath wasted my body and brought me to evil case.” Rejoined the Princess, “By Allah, since ye love each other thus, may he not be who would part you! Be of good cheer and keep your eyes cool and clear.” At this they both rejoiced and Naomi called for a lute and, when they brought it, she took it and tuned it and played a lively measure which enchanted the hearers, and after the prelude sang these couplets,
“When the slanderers cared but to part us twain,
We owed no blood-debt could raise their ire
And they poured in our ears all the din of war,
And aid failed and friends, when my want was dire:
I fought them hard with mine eyes and tears;
With breath and sword, with the stream and fire!”
Then Naomi gave the lute to her master, Ni’amah, saying, “Sing thou to us some verse.” So he took it and playing a lively measure, intoned these couplets,
“Full Moon if unfreckled would favour thee,
And Sun uneclipsed would reflect thy blee:
I wonder (but love is of wonders full
And ardour and passion and ecstasy)
How short the way to my love I fare,
Which, from her faring, so long I see.”
Now when he had made an end of his song, Naomi filled the cup and gave it to him, and he took it and drank it off; then she filled again and gave the cup to the Caliph’s sister who also emptied it; after which the Princess in her turn took the lute and tightened the strings and tuned it and sang these two couplets,
“Grief, cark and care in my heart reside,
And the fires of love in my breast
My wasted form to all eyes shows clear;
For Desire my body hath mortified.”
Then she filled the cup and gave it to Naomi, who drank it off and taking the lute, sang these two couplets,
“O to whom I gave soul which thou tortures”,
And in vain I’d recover from fair Unfaith
Do grant thy favours my care to cure
Ere I die, for this be my latest breath.”
And they ceased not to sing verses and drink to the sweet sound of the strings, full of mirth and merriment and joy and jollity till behold! in came the Commander of the Faithful. Now when they saw him, they rose and kissed the ground before him; and he, seeing Naomi with the lute in her hand, said to her, “O Naomi, praised be Allah who hath done away from thee sickness and suffering!” Then he looked at Ni’amah (who was still disguised as a woman), and said to the Princess, “O my sister, what damsel is this by Naomi’s side?” She replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, thou hast here a handmaid, one of thy concubines and the bosom friend of Naomi who will neither eat nor drink without her.” And she repeated the words of the poet,
“Two contraries, and both concur in opposite charms,
And charms so contraried by contrast lovelier show.”
Quoth the Caliph, “By Allah Omnipotent, verily she is as handsome as Naomi, and to-morrow I will appoint her a separate chamber beside that of her friend and send her furniture and stuffs and all that befitteth her, in honour of Naomi.” Then the Princess called for food and set it before her brother, who ate and made himself at home in their place and company. Then filling a cup he signed to Naomi to sing; so she took the lute, after draining two of them and sang these two couplets,
“Since my toper-friend in my hand hath given
Three cups that brim and bubble, e’er since
I’ve trailed my skirts throughout night for pride
As tho’,
Prince of the Faithful, I were thy Prince!”
The Prince of True Believers was delighted and filling another cup, gave it to Naomi and bade her sing again; so after draining the cup and sweeping the strings, she sang as follows:—
“O most noble of men in this time and stound,
Of whom none may boast he is equal-found!
O matchless in greatness of soul and gifts,
O thou Chief, O thou King amongst all renowned:
Lord, who dealest large boons to the Lords of Earth,
Whom thou vexest not nor dost hold them bound
The Lord preserve thee, and spoil thy foes,
And ne’er cease thy lot with good Fortune crowned!”
Now when the Caliph heard these couplets, he exclaimed, “By Allah, good! By Allah, excellent! Verily the Lord hath been copious1 to thee, O Naomi! How clever is thy tongue and how dear is thy speech!” And they ceased not their mirth and good cheer till midnight, when the Caliph’s sister said to him, “Give ear, O Commander of the Faithful to a tale I have read in books of a certain man of rank.” “And what is this tale?” quoth he. Quoth she “Know, O Prince of the Faithful that there lived once in the city of Cufa a youth called Ni’amah, son of Al–Rabi’a, and he had a slave-girl whom he loved and who loved him. They had been reared in one bed; but when they grew up and mutual-love get hold of them, Fortune smote them with her calamities and Time, the tyrant, brought upon them his adversity and decreed separation unto them. Thereupon designing and slanderous folk enticed her by sleight forth of his house and, stealing her away from his home, sold her to one of the Kings for ten thousand dinars. Now the girl loved her lord even as he loved her, so he left kith and kin and house and home and the gifts of fortune, and set out to search for her and when she was found he devised means to gain access to her”. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Li’lláhi (darr’) al-káil, a characteristic idiom. “Darr”=giving (rich) milk copiously and the phrase expresses admiration, “To Allah be ascribed (or Allah be praised for) his rich eloquence who said etc. Some Hebraists would render it, “Divinely (well) did he speak who said,” etc., holding “Allah” to express a superlative like “Yah” Jah) in Gen. iv. 1; x. 9. Nimrod was a hunter to the person (or presence) of Yah, i.e. mighty hunter.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph’s sister said, “And Ni’amah ceased not absenting himself from his kith and kin and patrial-stead, that he might gain access to his handmaid, and he incurred every peril and lavished his life till he gained access to her, and her name was Naomi, like this slave-girl. But the interview was short; they had not been long in company when in came the King, who had bought her of her kidnapper, and hastily ordered them to be slain, without doing justice by his own soul and delaying to enquire into the matter before the command was carried out. Now what sayest thou, O Commander of the Faithful, of this King’s wrongous conduct?” Answered the Caliph; “This was indeed a strange thing: it behoved that King to pardon when he had the power to punish; and he ought to have regarded three things in their favour. The first was that they loved each other; the second that they were in his house and in his grasp; and the third that it befitteth a King to be deliberate in judging and ordering between folk, and how much more so in cases where he himself is concerned! Wherefore this King thus did an unkingly deed.” Then said his sister, “O my brother, by the King of the heavens and the earth, I conjure thee, bid Naomi sing and hearken to that she shall sing!” So he said “O Naomi, sing to me;” whereupon she played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
“Beguiled us Fortune who her guile displays,
Smiting the heart, bequeathing thoughts that craze
And parting lovers whom she made to meet,
Till tears in torrent either cheek displays:
They were and I was and my life was glad,
While Fortune often joyed to join our ways;
I will pour tear flood, will rain gouts of blood,
Thy loss bemoaning through the nights and days!”
Now when the Commander of the Faithful heard this verse, he was moved to great delight and his sister said to him, “O my brother, whoso decideth in aught against himself, him it behoveth to abide by it and do according to his word; and thou hast judged against thyself by this judgement.” Then said she, “O Ni’amah, stand up and do thou likewise up stand, O Naomi!” So they stood up and she continued, “O Prince of True Believers, she who standeth before thee is Naomi the stolen, whom Al–Hajjaj bin Yusuf al-Sakafi kidnapped and sent to thee, falsely pretending in his letter to thee that he had bought her for ten thousand gold pieces. And this other who standeth before thee is her lord, Ni’amah, son of Al–Rabi’a; and I beseech thee, by the honour of thy pious forebears and by Hamzah and Ukayl and Abbas,1 to pardon them both and overlook their offence and bestow them one on the other, that thou mayst win rich reward in the next world of thy just dealing with them; for they are under thy hand and verily they have eaten of thy meat and drunken of thy drink; and behold, I make intercession for them and beg of thee the boon of their blood.” Thereupon quoth the Caliph, “Thou speakest sooth: I did indeed give judgement as thou sayst, and I am not one to pass sentence and to revoke it.” Then said he, “O Naomi, say, be this thy lord?” And she answered “Even so, O Commander of the Faithful.” Then quoth he, “No harm shall befall you, I give you each to other;” adding to the young man, “O Ni’amah, who told thee where she was and taught thee how to get at this place?” He replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, hearken to my tale and give ear to my history; for, by the virtue of thy pious forefathers, I will hide nothing from thee!” And he told him all that had passed between himself and the Persian physician and the old nurse, and how she had brought him into the palace and he had mistaken the doors; whereat the Caliph wondered with exceeding wonder and said, “Fetch me the Persian.” So they brought him into the presence and he was made one of his chief officers. Moreover the King bestowed on him robes of honour and ordered him a handsome present, saying, “When a man hath shown like this man such artful management, it behoveth us to make him one of our chief officers.” The Caliph also loaded Ni’amah and Naomi with gifts and honours and rewarded the old nurse; and they abode with him seven days in joy and content and all delight of life, when Ni’amah craved leave to return to Cufa with his slave-girl. The Caliph gave them permission and they departed and arrived in due course at Cufa, where Ni’amah was restored to his father and mother, and they abode in all the joys and jollities of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies. Now when Amjad and As’ad heard from Bahram this story, they marvelled with extreme marvel and said, “By Allah, this is indeed a rare tale!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Hamzah and Abbás were the famous uncles of Mohammed often noticed: Ukayl is not known; possibly it may be Akíl, a son of the fourth Caliph, Ali.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Amjad and As’ad heard this story from Bahram the Magian who had become a Moslem, they marvelled with extreme marvel and thus passed that night; and when the next morning dawned, they mounted and riding to the palace, sought an audience of the King who granted it and received them with high honour. Now as they were sitting together talking, of a sudden they heard the towns folk crying aloud and shouting to one another and calling for help; and the Chamberlain came in to the King and said to him, “Some King hath encamped before the city, he and his host, with arms and weapons displayed, and we know not their object and aim.” The King took counsel with his Wazir Amjad and his brother As’ad; and Amjad said, “I will go out to him and learn the cause of his coming.” So he took horse and, riding forth from the city, repaired to the stranger’s camp, where he found the King and with him a mighty many and mounted Mamelukes. When the guards saw him, they knew him for an envoy from the King of the city; so they took him and brought him before their Sultan. Then Amjad kissed the ground before him; but lo! the King was a Queen, who was veiled with a mouth-veil, and she said to Amjad, “Know that I have no design on this your city and that I am come hither only in quest of a beardless slave of mine, whom if I find with you, I will do you no harm, but if I find him not, then shall there befall sore onslaught between me and you.” Asked Amjad, “O Queen, what like is thy slave and what is his story and what may be his name?” Said she, “His name is As’ad and my name is Marjanah, and this slave came to my town in company of Bahram, a Magian, who refused to sell him to me; so I took him by force, but his master fell upon him by night and bore him away by stealth and he is of such and such a favour.” When Amjad heard that, he knew it was indeed his brother As’ad whom she sought and said to her, “O Queen of the age, Alhamdolillah, praised be Allah, who hath brought us relief! Verily this slave whom thou seekest is my brother.” Then he told her their story and all that had befallen them in the land of exile, and acquainted her with the cause of their departure from the Islands of Ebony, whereat she marvelled and rejoiced to have found As’ad. So she bestowed a dress of honour upon Amjad and he returned forthright to the King and told him what had passed, at which they all rejoiced and the King went forth with Amjad and As’ad to meet Queen Marjanah. When they were admitted to her presence and sat down to converse with her and were thus pleasantly engaged, behold, a dust cloud rose and flew and grew, till it walled the view. And after a while it lifted and showed beneath it an army dight for victory, in numbers like the swelling sea, armed and armoured cap-à-pie who, making for the city, encompassed it around as the ring encompasseth the little finger;1 and a bared brand was in every hand. When Amjad and As’ad saw this, they exclaimed, “Verily to Allah we belong and to Him we shall return! What is this mighty host? Doubtless, these are enemies, and except we agree with this Queen Marjanah to fight them, they will take the town from us and slay us. There is no resource for us but to go out to them and see who they are.” So Amjad arose and took horse and passed through the city gate to Queen Marjanah’s camp; but when he reached the approaching army he found it to be that of his grand sire, King Ghayur, father of his mother Queen Budur. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Eastern ring is rarely plain; and, its use being that of a signet, it is always in intaglio: the Egyptians invented engraving hieroglyphics on wooden stamps for marking bricks and applied the process to the ring. Moses B. C. 1491 (Exod. xxviii. 9) took two onyx-stones, and graved on them the names of the children of Israel. From this the signet ring was but a step. Herodotus mentions an emerald seal-set in gold, that of Polycrates, the work of Theodorus, son of Telecles the Samian (iii. 141). The Egyptians also were perfectly acquainted with working in cameo (anaglyph) and rilievo, as may be seen in the cavo rilievo of the finest of their hieroglyphs. The Greeks borrowed from them the cameo and applied it to gems (e.g. Tryphon’s in the Marlborough collection), and they bequeathed the art to the Romans. We read in a modern book “Cameo means an onyx, and the most famous cameo in the world is the onyx containing the Apotheosis of Augustus.” The ring is given in marriage because it was a seal — by which orders were signed (Gen. xxxviii. 18 and Esther iii. 10–12). I may note that the seal-ring of Cheops (Khufu), found in the Greatest Pyramid, was in the possession of my old friend, Doctor Abbott, of Auburn (U.S.), and was sold with his collection. It is the oldest ring in the world, and settles the Cheops-question.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Amjad reached the approaching host, he found it to be that of his grandsire, Lord of the Isles and the Seas and the Seven Castles; and when he went into the presence, he kissed the ground between his hands and delivered to him the message. Quoth the King, “My name is King Ghayur and I come wayfaring in quest of my daughter Budur whom fortune hath taken from me, for she left me and returned not to me, nor have I heard any tidings of her or of her husband Kamar al-Zaman. Have ye any news of them?” When Amjad heard this, he hung his head towards the ground for a while in thought till he felt assured that this King was none other than his grandfather, his mother’s father; where upon he raised his head and, kissing ground before him, told him that he was the son of his daughter Budur; on hearing which Ghayur threw himself upon him and they both fell a weeping.1 Then said Ghayur, “Praised be Allah, O my son, for safety, since I have foregathered with thee,” and Amjad told him that his daughter Budur was safe and sound, and her husband Kamar al-Zaman likewise, and acquainted him that both abode in a city called the City of Ebony. Moreover, he related to him how his father, being wroth with him and his brother, had commended that both be put to death, but that his treasurer had taken pity on them and let them go with their lives. Quoth King Ghayur, “I will go back with thee and thy brother to your father and make your peace with him.” So Amjad kissed the ground before him in huge delight and the King bestowed a dress of honour upon him, after which he returned, smiling, to the King of the City of the Magians and told him what he had learnt from King Ghayur, whereat he wondered with exceeding wonder. Then he despatched guest-gifts of sheep and horses and camels and forage and so forth to King Ghayur, and did the like by Queen Marjanah; and both of them told her what chanced; whereupon quoth she, “I too will accompany you with my troops and will do my endeavour to make this peace.” Meanwhile behold, there arose another dust cloud and flew and grew till it walled the view and blackened the day’s bright hue; and under it they heard shouts and cries and neighing of steeds and beheld sword glance and the glint of levelled lance. When this new host drew near the city and saw the two other armies, they beat their drums and the King of the Magians exclaimed, “This is indeed naught but a blessed day. Praised be Allah who hath made us of accord with these two armies; and if it be His will, He shall give us peace with yon other as well.” Then said he to Amjad and As’ad, “Fare forth and fetch us news of these troops, for they are a mighty host, never saw I a mightier.” So they opened the city gates, which the King had shut for fear of the beleaguering armies, and Amjad and As’ad went forth and, coming to the new host, found that it was indeed a mighty many. But as soon as they came to it behold, they knew that it was the army of the King of the Ebony Islands, wherein was their father, King Kamar al-Zaman in person. Now when they looked upon him, they kissed ground and wept; but, when he beheld them, he threw himself upon them weeping, with sore weeping, and strained them to his breast for a full hour. Then he excused himself to them and told them what desolation he had suffered for their loss and exile; and they acquainted him with King Ghayur’s arrival, whereupon he mounted with his chief officers and taking with him his two sons, proceeded to that King’s camp. As they drew near, one of the Princes rode forward and informed King Ghayur of Kamar al-Zaman’s coming, whereupon he came out to meet him and they joined company, marvelling at these things and how they had chanced to foregather in that place. Then the townsfolk made them banquets of all manner of meats and sweetmeats and presented to them horses and camels and fodder and other guest-gifts and all that the troops needed. And while this was doing, behold, yet another cloud of dust arose and flew till it walled the view, whilst earth trembled with the tramp of steed and tabors sounded like stormy winds. After a while, the dust lifted and discovered an army clad in coats of mail and armed cap-à-pie; but all were in black garb, and in their midst rode a very old man whose beard flowed down over his breast and he also was clad in black. When the King of the city and the city folk saw this great host, he said to the other Kings, “Praised be Allah by whose omnipotent command ye are met here, all in one day, and have proved all known one to the other! But what vast and victorious army is this which hemmeth in the whole land like a wall?” They answered, “Have no fear of them; we are three Kings, each with a great army, and if they be enemies, we will join thee in doing battle with them, were they three times as many as they now are.” Meanwhile, up came an envoy from the approaching host, making for the city. So they brought him before Kamar al-Zaman, King Ghayur, Queen Marjanah and the King of the city; and he kissed the ground and said, “My liege lord cometh from Persia-land; for many years ago he lost his son and he is seeking him in all countries. If he find him with you, well and good; but if he find him not, there will be war between him and you and he will waste your city.” Rejoined Kamar al-Zaman, “It shall not come to that; but how is thy master called in Ajam land?” Answered the envoy, “He is called King Shahriman, lord of the Khálidan Islands; and he hath levied these troops in the lands traversed by him, whilst seeking his son.” No-vv when Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, he cried out with a great cry and fell down in a fainting fit which lasted a long while; and anon coming to himself he wept bitter tears and said to Amjad and As’ad, “Go ye, O my sons, with the herald, salute your grandfather and my father, King Shahriman and give him glad tidings of me, for he mourneth my loss and even to the present time he weareth black raiment for my sake.” Then he told the other Kings all that had befallen him in the days of his youth, at which they wondered and, going down with him from the city, repaired to his father, whom he saluted, and they embraced and fell to the ground senseless for excess of joy. And when they revived after a while, Kamar al-Zaman acquainted his father with all his adventures and the other Kings saluted Shahriman. Then, after having married Marjanah to As’ad, they sent her back to her kingdom, charging her not to cease correspondence with them; so she took leave and went her way. Moreover they married Amjad to Bostan, Bahram’s daughter, and they all set out for the City of Ebony. And when they arrived there, Kamar al-Zaman went in to his father-in-law, King Armanus, and told him all that had befallen him and how he had found his sons; whereat Armanus rejoiced and gave him joy of his safe return. Then King Ghayur went in to his daughter, Queen Budur,2 and saluted her and quenched his longing for her company, and they all abode a full month’s space in the City of Ebony; after which the King and his daughter returned to their own country. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 This habit of weeping when friends meet after long parting is customary, I have noted, amongst the American “Indians,” the Badawin of the New World; they shed tears thinking of the friends they have lost. Like most primitive people they are ever ready to weep as was Æneas or Shakespeare’s saline personage,
“This would make a man, a man of salt
To use his eyes for garden waterpots.”
(King Lear, iv. 6.)
2 Here poetical-justice is not done; in most Arab tales the two adulterous Queens would have been put to death.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Ghayur set out with his daughter and his host for his own land, and they took with them Amjad and returned home by easy marches. And when Ghayur was settled again in his kingdom, he made his grandson King in his stead; and as to Kamar al-Zaman he also made As’ad king in his room over the capital of the Ebony Islands, with the consent of his grandfather, King Armanus and set out himself, with his father, King Shahriman, till the two made the Islands of Khálidan. Then the lieges decorated the city in their honour and they ceased not to beat the drums for glad tidings a whole month; nor did Kamar al-Zaman leave to govern in his father’s place, till there overtook them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies; and Allah knoweth all things! Quoth King Shahryar, “O Shahrazad, this is indeed a most wonderful tale!” And she answered, “O King, it is not more wonderful than that of
“What is that?” asked he, and she said, It hath reached me that there lived, in times of yore and years and ages long gone before, a merchant of Cairo2 named Shams al-Din, who was of the best and truest spoken of the traders of the city; and he had eunuchs and servants and negro-slaves and handmaids and Mame lukes and great store of money. Moreover, he was Consul3 of the Merchants of Cairo and owned a wife, whom he loved and who loved him; except that he had lived with her forty years, yet had not been blessed with a son or even a daughter. One day, as he sat in his shop, he noted that the merchants, each and every, had a son or two sons or more sitting in their shops like their sires. Now the day being Friday, he entered the Hammam-bath and made the total-ablution: after which he came out and took the barber’s glass and looked in it, saying, “I testify that there is no god but the God and I testify that Mohammed is the Messenger of God!” Then he considered his beard and, seeing that the white hairs in it covered the black, bethought himself that hoariness is the harbinger of death. Now his wife knew the time of his coming home and had washed and made herself ready for him, so when he came in to her, she said, “Good evening,” but he replied “I see no good.” Then she called to the handmaid, “Spread the supper-tray;” and when this was done quoth she to her husband “Sup, O my lord.” Quoth he, “I will eat nothing,” and pushing the tray away with his foot, turned his back upon her. She asked, “Why dost thou thus? and what hath vexed thee?”; and he answered, “Thou art the cause of my vexation.”— And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shams al-Din said to his wife, “Thou art the cause of my vexation.” She asked, “Wherefore?” and he answered, “When I opened my shop this morning, I saw that each and every of the merchants had with him a son or two sons or more, sitting in their shops like their fathers; and I said to myself:— He who took thy sire will not spare thee. Now the night I first visited thee,1 thou madest me swear that I would never take a second wife over thee nor a concubine, Abyssinian or Greek or handmaid of other race; nor would lie a single night away from thee: and behold, thou art barren, and having thee is like boring into the rock.” Rejoined she, “Allah is my witness that the fault lies with thee, for that thy seed is thin.” He asked, “And what showeth the man whose semen is thin?” And she answered, “He cannot get women with child, nor beget children.” Quoth he, “What thickeneth the seed? tell me and I will buy it: haply, it will thicken mine.” Quoth she, “Enquire for it of the druggists.” So he slept with her that night and arose on the morrow, repenting of having spoken angrily to her; and she also regretted her cross words. Then he went to the market and, finding a druggist, saluted him; and when his salutation was returned said to him, “Say, hast thou with thee a seed-thickener?” He replied, “I had it, but am out of it: enquire thou of my neighbour.” Then Shams al-Din made the round till he had asked every one, but they all laughed at him, and presently he returned to his shop and sat down, sore troubled. Now there was in the bazar a man who was Deputy Syndic of the brokers and was given to the use of opium and electuary and green hashish.2 He was called Shaykh Mohammed Samsam and being poor he used to wish Shams al-Din good morrow every day. So he came to him according to his custom and saluted him. The merchant returned his salute, but in ill-temper, and the other, seeing him vexed, said, “O my lord, what hath crossed thee?” Thereupon Shams al-Din told him all that occurred between himself and his wife, adding, “These forty years have I been married to her yet hath she borne me neither son nor daughter; and they say:— The cause of thy failure to get her with child is the thinness of thy seed; so I have been seeking a some thing wherewith to thicken my semen but found it not.” Quoth Shaykh Mohammed, “O my lord, I have a seed-thickener, but what wilt thou say to him who causeth thy wife to conceive by thee after these forty years have passed?” Answered the merchant, “If thou do this, I will work thy weal — and reward thee.” “Then give me a dinar,” rejoined the broker, and Shams al-Din said, “Take these two dinars.” He took them and said, “Give me also yonder big bowl of porcelain.” So he gave it to him and the broker betook himself to a hashish-seller, of whom he bought two ounces of concentrated Roumi opium and equal-parts of Chinese cubebs, cinnamon, cloves, cardamoms, ginger, white pepper and mountain skink3; and, pounding them all together, boiled them in sweet olive-oil; after which he added three ounces of male frankincense in fragments and a cupful of coriander-seed; and, macerating the whole, made it into an electuary with Roumi bee honey. Then he put the confection in the bowl and carried it to the merchant, to whom he delivered it, saying, “Here is the seed-thickener, and the manner of using it is this. Take of my electuary with a spoon after supping, and wash it down with a sherbet made of rose conserve; but first sup off mutton and house pigeon plentifully seasoned and hotly spiced.” So the merchant bought all this and sent the meat and pigeons to his wife, saying, “Dress them deftly and lay up the seed-thickener until I want it and call for it.” She did his bidding and, when she served up the meats, he ate the evening meal, after which he called for the bowl and ate of the electuary. It pleased him well, so he ate the rest and knew his wife. That very night she conceived by him and, after three months, her courses ceased, no blood came from her and she knew that she was with child. When the days of her pregnancy were accomplished, the pangs of labour took her and they raised loud lullilooings and cries of joy. The midwife delivered her with difficulty, by pronouncing over the boy at his birth the names of Mohammed and Ali, and said, “Allah is Most Great!”; and she called in his ear the call to prayer. Then she wrapped him up and passed him to his mother, who took him and gave him the breast; and he sucked and was full and slept. The midwife abode with them three days, till they had made the mothering-cakes of sugared bread and sweetmeats; and they distributed them on the seventh day. Then they sprinkled salt against the evil eye and the merchant, going in to his wife, gave her joy of her safe delivery, and said, “Where is Allah’s deposit?” So they brought him a babe of surpassing beauty, the handiwork of the Orderer who is ever present and, though he was but seven days old, those who saw him would have deemed him a yearling child. So the merchant looked on his face and, seeing it like a shining full moon, with moles on either cheek, said he to his wife, “What hast thou named him?” Answered she, “If it were a girl I had named her; but this is a boy, so none shall name him but thou.” Now the people of that time used to name their children by omens; and, whilst the merchant and his wife were taking counsel of the name, behold, one said to his friend, “Ho my lord, Ala al-Din!” So the merchant said, “We will call him Ala al-Din Abú al-Shámát.”4 Then he committed the child to the nurse, and he drank milk two years, after which they weaned him and he grew up and throve and walked upon the floor. When he came to seven years old, they put him in a chamber under a trap-door, for fear of the evil eye, and his father said, “He shall not come out, till his beard grow.” So he gave him in charge to a handmaid and a blackamoor; the girl dressed him his meals and the slave carried them to him. Then his father circumcised him and made him a great feast; after which he brought him a doctor of the law, who taught him to write and read and repeat the Koran, and other arts and sciences, till he became a good scholar and an accomplished. One day it so came to pass that the slave, after bringing him the tray of food went away and left the trap door open: so Ala al-Din came forth from the vault and went in to his mother, with whom was a company of women of rank. As they sat talking, behold, in came upon them the youth as he were a white slave drunken5 for the excess of his beauty; and when they saw him, they veiled their faces and said to his mother, “Allah requite thee, O such an one! How canst thou let this strange Mameluke in upon us? Knowest thou not that modesty is a point of the Faith?” She replied, “Pronounce Allah’s name6 and cry Bismillah! this is my son, the fruit of my vitals and the heir of Consul Shams al-Din, the child of the nurse and the collar and the crust and the crumb.”7 Quoth they, “Never in our days knew we that thou hadst a son”; and quoth she, “Verily his father feared for him the evil eye and reared him in an under-ground chamber;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Dukhúl,” the night of going in, of seeing the bride unveiled for the first time, etcaetera.
2 Arab. “Barsh” or “Bars,” the commonest kind. In India it is called Ma’jún (=electuary, generally): it is made of Ganja or young leaves, buds, capsules and florets of hemp (C. saliva), poppy-seed and flowers of the thorn-apple (daiura) with milk and auger-candy, nutmegs, cloves, mace and saffron, all boiled to the consistency of treacle which hardens when cold. Several-recipes are given by Herklots (Glossary s.v. Majoon). These electuaries are usually prepared with “Charas,” or gum of hemp, collected by hand or by passing a blanket over the plant in early morning, and it is highly intoxicating. Another intoxicant is “Sabzi,” dried hemp-leaves, poppy-seed, cucumber heed, black pepper and cardamoms rubbed down in a mortar with a wooden pestle, and made drinkable by adding milk, ice-cream, etc. The Hashish of Arabia is the Hindustani Bhang, usually drunk and made as follows. Take of hemp-leaves, well washed, 3 drams black pepper 45 grains and of cloves, nutmeg and mace (which add to the intoxication) each 12 grains. Triturate in 8 ounces of water or the juice of watermelon or cucumber, strain and drink. The Egyptian Zabíbah is a preparation of hemp florets, opium and honey, much affected by the lower orders, whence the proverb: “Temper thy sorrow with Zabibah. In Al–Hijaz it is mixed with raisins (Zabíb) and smoked in the water-pipe. (Burck hardt No. 73.) Besides these there is (1) “Post” poppy-seed prepared in various ways but especially in sugared sherbets; (2) Datura (stramonium) seed, the produce of the thorn-apple breached and put into sweetmeats by dishonest confectioners; it is a dangerous intoxicant, producing spectral-visions, delirium tremens, etc., and (3) various preparations of opium especially the “Madad,” pills made up with toasted betel-leaf and smoked. Opium, however, is usually drunk in the shape of “Kusumba,” a pill placed in wet cotton and squeezed in order to strain and clean it of the cowdung and other filth with which it is adulterated.
3 Arab. “Sikankúr” (Gr. {Greek letters}, Lat. Scincus) a lizard (S. officinalis) which, held in the hand, still acts as an aphrodisiac in the East, and which in the Middle Ages was considered a universal-medicine. In the “Adja’ib al-Hind” (Les Merveilles de l’Inde) we find a notice of a bald-headed old man who was compelled to know his wife twice a day and twice a night in consequence of having eaten a certain fish. (Chaps. Ixxviii. of the translation by M. L. Marcel Devic, from a manuscript of the tenth century, Paris Lemaire, 1878.) Europeans deride these prescriptions, but Easterns know better: they affect the fancy, that is the brain, and often succeed in temporarily relieving impotence. The recipes for this evil, which is incurable only when it comes from heart-affections, are innumerable in the East; and about half of every medical-work is devoted to them. Many a quack has made his fortune with a few bottles of tincture of cantharides, and a man who could discover a specific would become a millionaire in India only. The curious reader will consult for specimens the Ananga–Ranga Shastra by Koka Pandit; or the “Rujú ‘al-Shaykh ila ‘l-Sabáh fi Kuwwati ‘l-Báh” (the Return of the Old Man to Youth in power of Procreation) by Ahmad bin Sulaymán known as Ibn Kamál-Báshá, in 139 chapters lithographed at Cairo. Of these aphrodisiacs I shall have more to say.
4 Alá al-Din (our old friend Aladdin) = Glory of the Faith, a name of which Mohammed who preferred the simplest, like his own, would have highly disapproved. The most grateful names to Allah are Abdallah (Allah’s Slave) and Abd al-Rahman (Slave of the Compassionate); the truest are Al-Hárith (the gainer, “bread winner”) and Al–Hammám (the griever); and the hatefullest are Al–Harb (witch) and Al–Murrah (bitterness, Abu Murrah being a kunyat or by-name of the Devil). Abu al-Shámát (pronounced Abushshámát)=Father of Moles, concerning which I have already given details. These names ending in — Din (faith) began with the Caliph Al–Muktadi bi-Amri ’llah (regn. A.H. 467= 1075), who entitled his Wazir “Zahír al-Din (Backer or Defender of the Faith) and this gave rise to the practice. It may be observed that the superstition of naming by omens is in no way obsolete.
5 Meaning that he appeared intoxicated by the pride of his beauty as though it had been strong wine.
6 i.e. against the evil eye.
7 Meaning that he had been delicately reared.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ala al-Din’s mother said to her lady-friends, “Verily his father feared for him the evil eye and reared him in an underground chamber; and haply the slave forgot to shut the door and he fared forth; but we did not mean that he should come out, before his beard was grown.” The women gave her joy of him, and the youth went out from them into the court yard where he seated himself in the open sitting room; and behold, in came the slaves with his father’s she mule, and he said to them, “Whence cometh this mule?” Quoth they, “We escorted thy father when riding her to the shop, and we have brought her back.” He asked, “What may be my father’s trade?”; and they answered, “Thy father is Consul of the merchants in the land of Egypt and Sultan of the Sons of the Arabs.” Then he went in to his mother and said to her, “O my mother, what is my father’s trade?” Said she, “O my son, thy sire is a merchant and Consul of the merchants in the land of Egypt and Sultan of the Sons of the Arabs. His slaves consult him not in selling aught whose price is less than one thousand gold pieces, but merchandise worth him an hundred and less they sell at their own discretion; nor cloth any merchandise whatever, little or much, leave the country without passing through his hands and he disposeth of it as he pleaseth; nor is a bale packed and sent abroad amongst folk but what is under his disposal. And “Almighty Allah, O my son, hath given thy father monies past compt.” He rejoined, “O my mother, praised be Allah, that I am son of the Sultan of the Sons of the Arabs and that my father is Consul of the merchants! But why, O my mother, do ye put me in the underground chamber and leave me prisoner there?” Quoth she, “O my son, we imprisoned thee not save for fear of folks’ eyes: ‘the evil eye is a truth,’1 and most of those in their long homes are its victims.” Quoth he, “O my mother, and where is a refuge-place against Fate? Verily care never made Destiny forbear; nor is there flight from what is written for every wight. He who took my grandfather will not spare myself nor my father; for, though he live to day he shall not live tomorrow. And when my father dieth and I come forth and say, ‘I am Ala al-Din, son of Shams al-Din the merchant’, none of the people will believe me, but men of years and standing will say, ‘In our lives never saw we a son or a daughter of Shams al-Din.’ Then the public Treasury will come down and take my father’s estate, and Allah have mercy on him who said, ‘The noble dieth and his wealth passeth away, and the meanest of men take his women.’ Therefore, O my mother, speak thou to my father, that he carry me with him to the bazar and open for me a shop; so may I sit there with my merchandise, and teach me to buy and sell and take and give.” Answered his mother, “O my son, as soon as thy sire returneth I will tell him this.” So when the merchant came home, he found his son Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat sitting with his mother and said to her, “Why hast thou brought him forth of the underground chamber?” She replied, “O son of my uncle, it was not I that brought him out; but the servants forgot to shut the door and left it open; so, as I sat with a company of women of rank, behold, he came forth and walked in to me.” Then she went on to repeat to him his son’s words; so he said, “O my son, to-morrow, Inshallah! I will take thee with me to the bazar; but, my boy, sitting in markets and shops demandeth good manners and courteous carriage in all conditions.” Ala al-Din passed the night rejoicing in his father’s promise and, when the morrow came, the merchant carried him to the Hammam and clad him in a suit worth a mint of money. As soon as they had broken their fast and drunk their sherbets, Shams al-Din mounted his she mule and putting his son upon another, rode to the market, followed by his boy. But when the market folk saw their Consul making towards them, foregoing a youth as he were a slice of the full moon on the fourteenth night, they said, one to other, “See thou yonder boy behind the Consul of the merchants; verily, we thought well of him, but he is, like the leek, gray of head and green at heart.”2 And Shaykh Mohammed Samsam, Deputy Syndic of the market, the man before mentioned, said to the dealers, “O merchants, we will not keep the like of him for our Shaykh; no, never!” Now it was the custom anent the Consul when he came from his house of a morning and sat down in his shop, for the Deputy Syndic of the market to go and recite to him and to all the merchants assembled around him the Fátihah or opening chapter of the Koran,3 after which they accosted him one by one and wished him good morrow and went away, each to his business place. But when Shams al-Din seated himself in his shop that day as usual, the traders came not to him as accustomed; so he called the Deputy and said to him, “Why come not the merchants together as usual?” Answered Mohammed Samsam, “I know not how to tell thee these troubles, for they have agreed to depose thee from the Shaykh ship of the market and to recite the Fatihah to thee no more.” Asked Shams al-Din, “What may be their reason?”; and asked the Deputy, “What boy is this that sitteth by thy side and thou a man of years and chief of the merchants? Is this lad a Mameluke or akin to thy wife? Verily, I think thou lovest him and inclines lewdly to the boy.” Thereupon the Consul cried out at him, saying, “Silence, Allah curse thee, genus and species! This is my son.” Rejoined the Deputy, “Never in our born days have we seen thee with a son,” and Shams al-Din answered, “When thou gavest me the seed-thickener, my wife conceived and bare this youth; but I reared him in a souterrain for fear of the evil eye, nor was it my purpose that he should come forth, till he could take his beard in his hand.4 However, his mother would not agree to this, and he on his part begged I would stock him a shop and teach him to sell and buy.” So the Deputy Syndic returned to the other traders and acquainted them with the truth of the case, whereupon they all arose to accompany him; and, going in a body to Shams al-Din’s shop, stood before him and recited the “Opener” of the Koran; after which they gave him joy of his son and said to him, “The Lord prosper root and branch! But even the poorest of us, when son or daughter is born to him, needs must cook a pan-full of custard5 and bid his friends and kith and kin; yet hast thou not done this.” Quoth he, “This I owe you; be our meeting in the garden.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A traditional-saying of Mohammed.
2 So Boccaccio’s “Capo bianco” and “Coda verde.” (Day iv., Introduct.)
3 The opening chapter is known as the “Mother of the Book” (as opposed to Yá Sín, the “heart of the Koran”), the “Surat (chapter) of Praise,” and the “Surat of repetition” (because twice revealed?) or thanksgiving, or laudation (Ai–Masáni) and by a host of other names for which see Mr. Rodwell who, however, should not write “Fatthah” (p. xxv.) nor “Fathah” (xxvii.). The Fátihah, which is to Al–Islam much what the “Paternoster” is to Christendom, consists of seven verses, in the usual-Saj’a or rhymed prose, and I have rendered it as follows:
In the name of the Compassionating, the Compassionate!
Praise be to Allah who all the Worlds made
The Compassionating, the Compassionate
King of the Day of Faith!
Thee only do we adore and of Thee only do we crave aid
Guide us to the path which is straight
The path of those for whom Thy love is great, not those on whom is hate, nor they that deviate
Amen! O Lord of the World’s trine.
My Pilgrimage (i. 285; ii. 78 and passim) will supply instances of its application; how it is recited with open hands to catch the blessing from Heaven and the palms are drawn down the face (Ibid. i. 286), and other details,
4 i.e. when the evil eye has less effect than upon children. Strangers in Cairo often wonder to see a woman richly dressed leading by the hand a filthy little boy (rarely a girl) in rags, which at home will be changed to cloth of gold.
5 Arab. “Asídah” flour made consistent by boiling in water with the addition of “Same” clarified butter) and honey: more like pap than custard.
Her sister Dunyazad said to her, “Pray continue thy story for us, as thou be awake and not inclined to sleep.” Quoth she:— With pleasure and goodwill: it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Consul of the merchants promised them a banquet and said “Be our meeting in the garden.” So when morning dawned he despatched the carpet layer to the saloon of the garden-pavilion and bade him furnish the two. Moreover, he sent thither all that was needful for cooking, such as sheep and clarified butter and so forth, according to the requirements of the case; and spread two tables, one in the pavilion and another in the saloon. Then Shams al-Din and his boy girded themselves, and he said to Ala al-Din “O my son, whenas a greybeard entereth, I will meet him and seat him at the table in the pavilion; and do thou, in like manner, receive the beardless youths and seat them at the table in the saloon.” He asked, “O my father, why dost thou spread two tables, one for men and another for youths?”; and he answered, “O my son, the beardless is ashamed to eat with the bearded.” And his son thought this his answer full and sufficient. So when the merchants arrived, Shams al-Din received the men and seated them in the pavilion, whilst Ala al-Din received the youths and seated them in the saloon. Then the food was set on and the guests ate and drank and made merry and sat over their wine, whilst the attendants perfumed them with the smoke of scented woods, and the elders fell to conversing of matters of science and traditions of the Prophet. Now there was amongst them a merchant called Mahmúd of Balkh, a professing Moslem but at heart a Magian, a man of lewd and mischievous life who loved boys. And when he saw Ala al-Din from whose father he used to buy stuffs and merchandise, one sight of his face sent him a thousand sighs and Satan dangled the jewel before his eyes, so that he was taken with love-longing and desire and affection and his heart was filled with mad passion for him. Presently he arose and made for the youths, who stood up to receive him; and at this moment Ala Al–Din being taken with an urgent call of Nature, withdrew to make water; whereupon Mahmud turned to the other youths and said to them, “If ye will incline Ala al-Din’s mind to journeying with me, I will give each of you a dress worth a power of money.” Then he returned from them to the men’s party; and, as the youths were sitting, Ala al-Din suddenly came back, when all rose to receive him and seated him in the place of highest honour. Presently, one of them said to his neighbour, “O my lord Hasan, tell me whence came to thee the capital — whereon thou trades”.” He replied, “When I grew up and came to man’s estate, I said to my sire, ‘O my father, give me merchandise.’ Quoth he, ‘O my son, I have none by me; but go thou to some merchant and take of him money and traffic with it; and so learn to buy and sell, give and take.’ So I went to one of the traders and borrowed of him a thousand dinars, wherewith I bought stuffs and carrying them to Damascus, sold them there at a profit of two for one. Then I bought Syrian stuffs and carrying them to Aleppo, made a similar gain of them; after which I bought stuffs of Aleppo and repaired with them to Baghdad, where I sold them with like result, two for one; nor did I cease trading upon my capital till I was worth nigh ten thousand ducats.” Then each of the others told his friend some such tale, till it came to Ala al-Din’s turn to speak, when they said to him, “And thou, O my lord Ala al-Din?” Quoth he, “I was brought up in a chamber underground and came forth from it only this week; and I do but go to the shop and return home from the shop.” They remarked, “Thou art used to wone at home and wottest not the joys of travel, for travel is for men only.” He replied, “I reck not of voyaging and wayfaring cloth not tempt me.” Whereupon quoth one to the other, “This one is like the fish: when he leaveth the water he dieth.” Then they said to him, “O Ala al Din, the glory of the sons of the merchants is not but in travel for the sake of gain.” Their talk angered him; so he left them weeping-eyed and heavy-hearted and mounting his mule returned home. Now his mother saw him in tears and in bad temper and asked him, “What hath made thee weep, O my son?”; and he answered, “Of a truth, all the sons of the merchants put me to shame and said, ‘Naught is more glorious for a merchant’s son than travel for gain and to get him gold.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ala al-Din said to his mother, “Of a truth all the sons of the merchants put me to shame and said, ‘Naught is more honourable for a merchant’s son than travel for gain.’” “O my son, hast thou a mind to travel?” “Even so!” “And whither wilt thou go?” “To the city of Baghdad; for there folk make double the cost price on their goods.” “O my son, thy father is a very rich man and, if he provide thee not with merchandise, I will supply it out of my own monies.” “The best favour is that which is soonest bestowed; if this kindness is to be, now is the time.” So she called the slaves and sent them for cloth packers, then, opening a store house, brought out ten loads of stuffs, which they made up into bales for him. Such was his case; but as regards his father, Shams al-Din, he looked about and failed to find Ala al-Din in the garden and enquiring after him, was told that he had mounted mule and gone home; so he too mounted and followed him. Now when he entered the house, he saw the bales ready bound and asked what they were; whereupon his wife told him what had chanced between Ala al-Din and the sons of the merchants; and he cried, “O my son, Allah’s malison on travel and stranger-hood! Verily Allah’s Apostle (whom the Lord bless and preserve!) hath said, ‘It is of a man’s happy fortune that he eat his daily bread in his own land’, and it was said of the ancients, ‘Leave travel, though but for a mile.’” Then quoth he to his son, “Say, art thou indeed resolved to travel and wilt thou not turn back from it?” Quoth the other, “There is no help for it but that I journey to Baghdad with merchandise, else will I doff clothes and don dervish gear and fare a-wandering over the world.” Shams al-Din rejoined, “I am no penniless pauper but have great plenty of wealth;” then he showed him all he owned of monies and stuffs and stock-in-trade and observed, “With me are stuffs and merchandise befitting every country in the world.” Then he showed him among the rest, forty bales ready bound, with the price, a thousand dinars, written on each, and said, “O my son take these forty loads, together with the ten which thy mother gave thee, and set out under the safeguard of Almighty Allah. But, O my child, I fear for thee a certain wood in thy way, called the Lion’s Copse,1 and a valley hight the Vale of Dogs, for there lives are lost without mercy.” He said, “How so, O my father?”; and he replied, “Because of a Badawi bandit named Ajlan.” Quoth Ala al-Din, “Such is Allah’s luck; if any share of it be mine, no harm shall hap to me.” Then they rode to the cattle bazar, where behold, a cameleer2 alighted from his she mule and kissing the Consul’s hand, said to him, “O my lord, it is long, by Allah, since thou hast employed us in the way of business.” He replied, “Every time hath its fortune and its men,3 and Allah have truth on him who said,
‘And the old man crept o’er the worldly ways
So bowed, his beard o’er his knees down flow’th:
Quoth I, ‘What gars thee so doubled go?’
Quoth he (as to me his hands he show’th)
‘My youth is lost, in the dust it lieth;
And see, I bend me to find my youth.’”4
Now when he had ended his verses, he said, “O chief of the caravan, it is not I who am minded to travel, but this my son.” Quoth the cameleer, “Allah save him for thee.” Then the Consul made a contract between Ala al-Din and the man, appointing that the youth should be to him as a son, and gave him into his charge, saying, “Take these hundred gold pieces for thy people.” More-over he bought his son threescore mules and a lamp and a tomb-covering for the Sayyid Abd al-Kadir of Gílán5 and said to him, “O my son, while I am absent, this is thy sire in my stead: whatsoever he biddeth thee, do thou obey him.” So saying, he returned home with the mules and servants and that night they made a Khitmah or perfection of the Koran and held a festival — in honour of the Shaykh Abd al-Kadir al-Jiláni. And when the morrow dawned, the Consul gave his son ten thousand dinars, saying, “O my son, when thou comest to Baghdad, if thou find stuffs easy of sale, sell them; but if they be dull, spend of these dinars.” Then they loaded the mules and, taking leave of one another, all the wayfarers setting out on their journey, marched forth from the city. Now Mahmud of Balkh had made ready his own venture for Baghdad and had moved his bales and set up his tents without the walls, saying to himself, “Thou shalt not enjoy this youth but in the desert, where there is neither spy nor marplot to trouble thee.” It chanced that he had in hand a thousand dinars which he owed to the youth’s father, the balance of a business-transaction between them; so he went and bade farewell to the Consul, who charged him, “Give the thousand dinars to my son Ala al-Din;” and commended the lad to his care, saying, “He is as it were thy son.” Accordingly, Ala al-Din joined company with Mahmud of Balkh. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ghábah” = I have explained as a low-lying place where the growth is thickest and consequently animals haunt it during the noon-heats
2 Arab. “Akkám,” one who loads camels and has charge of the luggage. He also corresponds with the modern Mukharrij or camel-hirer (Pilgrimage i. 339), and hence the word Moucre (Moucres) which, first used by La Brocquière (A.D. 1432), is still the only term known to the French.
3 i.e. I am old and can no longer travel.
4 Taken from Al–Asma’i, the “Romance of Antar,” and the episode of the Asafir Camels.
5 A Mystic of the twelfth century A.D. who founded the Kádirí order (the oldest and chiefest of the four universally recognised), to which I have the honour to belong, teste my diploma (Pilgrimage, Appendix i.). Visitation is still made to his tomb at Baghdad. The Arabs (who have no hard g-letter) alter to “Jílán” the name of his birth-place “Gilan,” a tract between the Caspian and the Black Seas.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ala al-Din joined company with Mahmud of Balkh who, before beginning the march, charged the youth’s cook to dress nothing for him, but himself provided him and his company with meat and drink. Now he had four houses, one in Cairo, another in Damascus, a third in Aleppo and a fourth in Baghdad. So they set out and ceased not journeying over waste and wold till they drew near Damascus when Mahmud sent his slave to Ala al-Din, whom he found sitting and reading. He went up to him and kissed his hands, and Ala al-Din having asked him what he wanted, he answered, “My master saluteth thee and craveth thy company to a banquet at his place.” Quoth the youth, “Not till I consult my father Kamal al-Din, the captain of the caravan.” So he asked advice of the Makaddam,1 who said, “Do not go.” Then they left Damascus and journeyed on till they came to Aleppo, where Mahmud made a second entertainment and sent to invite Ala al-Din; but he consulted the Chief Cameleer who again forbade him. Then they marched from Aleppo and fared on, till there remained between them and Baghdad only a single stage. Here Mahmud prepared a third feast and sent to bid Ala al-Din to it: Kamal-al-Din once more forbade his accepting it, but he said, “I must needs go.” So he rose and, slinging a sword over his shoulder, under his clothes, repaired to the tent of Mahmud of Balkh, who came to meet him and saluted him. Then he set before him a sumptuous repast and they ate and drank and washed hands. At last Mahmud bent towards Ala al-Din to snatch a kiss from him, but the youth received the kiss on the palm of his hand and said to him, “What wouldest thou be at?” Quoth Mahmud, “In very sooth I brought thee hither that I might take my pleasure with thee in this jousting ground, and we will comment upon the words of him who saith,
‘Say, canst not come to us one momentling,
Like milk of ewekin or aught glistening
And eat what liketh thee of dainty cake,
And take thy due of fee in silverling,
And bear whatso thou wilt, without mislike,
Of spanling, fistling or a span long thing?’”
Then Mahmud of Balkh would have laid hands on Ala al-Din to ravish him; but he rose and baring his brand, said to him, “Shame on thy gray hairs! Hast thou no fear of Allah, and He of exceeding awe?2 May He have mercy on him who saith,
‘Preserve thy hoary hairs from soil and stain,
For whitest colours are the easiest stained!’”
And when he ended his verses he said to Mahmud of Balkh, “Verily this merchandise3 is a trust from Allah and may not be sold. If I sold this property to other than thee for gold, I would sell it to thee for silver; but by Allah, O filthy villain, I will never again company with thee; no, never!” Then he returned to Kamal–Al-Din the guide and said to him, “Yonder man is a lewd fellow, and I will no longer consort with him nor suffer his company by the way.” He replied, “O my son, did I not say to thee, ‘Go not near him’? But if we part company with him, I fear destruction for ourselves; so let us still make one caravan.” But Ala al-Din cried, “It may not be that I ever again travel with him.” So he loaded his beasts and journeyed onwards, he and his company, till they came to a valley, where Ala al-Din would have halted, but the Cameleer said to him, “Do not halt here; rather let us fare forwards and press our pace, so haply we make Baghdad before the gates are closed, for they open and shut them with the sun, in fear lest the Rejectors4 should take the city and throw the books of religious learning into the Tigris.” But Ala al Din replied to him, “O my father, I came not forth from home with this merchandise, or travelled hither for the sake of traffic, but to divert myself with the sight of foreign lands and folks;” and he rejoined, “O my son, we fear for thee and for thy goods from the wild Arabs.” Whereupon the youth answered “Harkye, fellow, art thou master or man? I will not enter Baghdad till the morning, that the sons of the city may see my merchandise and know me.” “Do as thou wilt,” said the other “I have given thee the wisest advice, but thou art the best judge of thine own case.” Then Ala al-Din bade them unload the mule; and pitch the tent; so they did his bidding and abode there till the middle of the night, when he went out to obey a call of nature and suddenly saw something gleaming afar off. So he said to Kamal-al-Din, “O captain, what is yonder glittering?” The Cameleer sat up and, considering it straitly, knew it for the glint of spear heads and the steel of Badawi weapons and swords. And lo and behold! this was a troop of wild Arabs under a chief called Ajlán Abú Náib, Shaykh of the Arabs, and when they neared the camp and saw the bales and baggage, they said one to another, “O night of loot!” Now when Kamal-al-Din heard these their words he cried, “Avaunt, O vilest of Arabs!” But Abu Naib so smote him with his throw spear in the breast, that the point came out gleaming from his back, and he fell down dead at the tent door. Then cried the water carrier,5 “Avaunt, O foulest of Arabs!” and one of them smote him with a sword upon the shoulder, that it issued shining from the tendons of the throat, and he also fell down dead. (And all this while Ala Al–Din stood looking on.) Then the Badawin surrounded and charged the caravan from every side and slew all Ala al-Din’s company without sparing a man: after which they loaded the mules with the spoil and made off. Quoth Ala al-Din to himself, “Nothing will slay thee save thy mule and thy dress!”; so he arose and put off his gown and threw it over the back of a mule, remaining in his shirt and bag trousers only; after which he looked towards the tent door and, seeing there a pool of gore flowing from the slaughtered, wallowed in it with his remaining clothes till he was as a slain man drowned in his own blood. Thus it fared with him; but as regards the Shaykh of the wild Arabs, Ajlan, he said to his banditti, “O Arabs, was this caravan bound from Egypt for Baghdad or from Baghdad for Egypt?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The well-known Anglo–Indian “Mucuddum;” lit. “one placed before (or over) others”
2 Koran xiii. 14.
3 i.e.. his chastity: this fashion of objecting to infamous proposals is very characteristic: ruder races would use their fists.
4 Arab. “Ráfizí”=the Shi’ah (tribe, sect) or Persian schismatics who curse the first three Caliphs: the name is taken from their own saying “Inná rafizná-hum”=verily we have rejected them. The feeling between Sunni (the so-called orthodox) and Shi’ah is much like the Christian love between a Catholic of Cork and a Protestant from the Black North. As Al–Siyuti or any historian will show, this sect became exceedingly powerful under the later Abbaside Caliphs, many of whom conformed to it and adopted its tractices and innovations (as in the Azan or prayer-call), greatly to the scandal-of their co-religionists. Even in the present day the hatred between these representatives of Arab monotheism and Persian Guebrism continues unabated. I have given sundry instances m my Pilgrimage, e.g. how the Persians attempt to pollute the tombs of the Caliphs they abhor.
5 Arab. “Sakká,” the Indian “Bihishtí” (man from Heaven): Each party in a caravan has one or more.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Badawi asked his banditti, “O Arabs, was this caravan bound from Egypt for Baghdad or from Baghdad for Egypt?”; they answered, “’Twas bound from Egypt for Baghdad;” and he said, “Return ye to the slain, for methinks the owner of this caravan is not dead.” So they turned back to the slain and fell to prodding and slashing them with lance and sword till they came to Ala al-Din, who had thrown himself down among the corpses. And when they came to him, quoth they, “Thou dost but feign thyself dead, but we will make an end of thee,” and one of the Badawin levelled his javelin and would have plunged it into his breast when he cried out, “Save me, O my lord Abd al-Kadir, O Saint of Gilan!” and behold, he saw a hand turn the lance away from his breast to that of Kamal-al-Din the cameleer, so that it pierced him and spared himself.1 Then the Arabs made off; and, when Ala al-Din saw that the birds were flown with their god send, he sat up and finding no one, rose and set off running; but, behold! Abu Náib the Badawi looked back and said to his troop, “I see somewhat moving afar off, O Arabs!” So one of the bandits turned back and, spying Ala al-Din running, called out to him, saying, “Flight shall not forward thee and we after thee;” and he smote his mare with his heel and she hastened after him. Then Ala al-Din seeing before him a watering tank and a cistern beside it, climbed up into a niche in the cistern and, stretching himself at full length, feigned to be asleep and said, “O gracious Protector, cover me with the veil of Thy protection which may not be torn away!” And lo! the Badawi came up to the cistern and, standing in his stirrup irons put out his hand to lay hold of Ala al-Din; but he said, “O my lady Nafísah2! Now is thy time!” And behold, a scorpion stung the Badawi in the palm and he cried out, saying, “Help, O Arabs! I am stung;” and he alighted from his mare’s back. So his comrades came up to him and mounted him again, asking, “What hath befallen thee?” whereto he answered, “A young scorpion3 stung me.” So they departed, with the caravan. Such was their case; but as regards Ala al-Din, he tarried in the niche, and Mahmud of Balkh bade load his beasts and fared forwards till he came to the Lion’s Copse where he found Ala al-Din’s attendants all lying slain. At this he rejoiced and went on till he reached the cistern and the reservoir. Now his mule was athirst and turned aside to drink, but she saw Ala al-Din’s shadow in the water and shied and started; whereupon Mahmud raised his eyes and, seeing Ala al-Din lying in the niche, stripped to his shirt and bag trousers, said to him, “What man this deed to thee hath dight and left thee in this evil plight?” Answered Ala alDin, “The Arabs,” and Mahmud said, “O my son, the mules and the baggage were thy ransom; so do thou comfort thyself with his saying who said,
‘If thereby man can save his head from death,
His good is worth him but a slice of nail!’
But now, O my son, come down and fear no hurt.” Thereupon he descended from the cistern-niche and Mahmud mounted him on a mule, and they fared on till they reached Baghdad, where he brought him to his own house and carried him to the bath, saying to him, “The goods and money were the ransom of thy life, O my son; but, if thou wilt hearken to me, I will give thee the worth of that thou hast lost, twice told.” When he came out of the bath, Mahmud carried him into a saloon decorated with gold with four raised floors, and bade them bring a tray with all manner of meats. So they ate and drank and Mahmud bent towards Ala al-Din to snatch a kiss from him; but he received it upon the palm of his hand and said, “What, dost thou persist in thy evil designs upon me? Did I not tell thee that, were I wont to sell this merchandise to other than thee for gold, I would sell it thee for silver?” Quoth Mahmud, “I will give thee neither merchandise nor mule nor clothes save at this price; for I am gone mad for love of thee, and bless him who said,
‘Told us, ascribing to his Shaykhs, our Shaykh
Abú Bilál, these words they wont to utter:4
Unhealed the lover wones of love desire,
By kiss and clip, his only cure’s to futter!’”
Ala al-Din replied, “Of a truth this may never be, take back thy dress and thy mule and open the door that I may go out.” So he opened the door, and Ala al-Din fared forth and walked on, with the dogs barking at his heels, and he went forwards through the dark when behold, he saw the door of a mosque standing open and, entering the vestibule, there took shelter and concealment; and suddenly a light approached him and on examining it he saw that it came from a pair of lanthorns borne by two slaves before two merchants. Now one was an old man of comely face and the other a youth; and he heard the younger say to the elder, “O my uncle,, I conjure thee by Allah, give me back my cousin!” The old man replied, “Did I not forbid thee, many a time, when the oath of divorce was always in thy mouth, as it were Holy Writ?” Then he turned to his right and, seeing Ala al-Din as he were a slice of the full moon, said to him, “Peace be with thee! who art thou, O my son?” Quoth he, returning the salutation of peace, “I am Ala al-Din, son of Shams al-Din, Consul of the merchants for Egypt. I besought my father for merchandise; so he packed me fifty loads of stuffs and goods.”— And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These “Kirámát” or Saints’ miracles, which Spiritualists will readily accept, are recorded in vast numbers. Most men have half a dozen to tell, each of his “Pír” or patron, including the Istidráj or prodigy of chastisement. (Dabistan, iii. 274.)
2 Great granddaughter of the Imam Hasan buried in Cairo and famed for “Kirámát.” Her father, governor of Al–Medinah, was imprisoned by Al–Mansur and restored to power by Al–Mahdi. She was married to a son of the Imam Ja’afar al-Sadik and lived a life of devotion in Cairo, dying in A.H. 218=824. The corpse of the Imam al-Shafi’i was carried to her house, now her mosque and mausoleum: it stood in the Darb al-Sabúa which formerly divided Old from New Cairo and is now one of the latter’s suburbs. Lane (M. E. chaps. x.) gives her name but little more. The mention of her shows that the writer of the tale or the copyist was a Cairene: Abd al-Kadir is world-known: not so the “Sitt.”
3 Arab. “Farkh akrab” for Ukayrib, a vulgarism.
4 The usual Egyptian irreverence: he relates his abomination as if it were a Hadis or Tradition of the Prophet with due ascription.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ala al-Din continued, “So he packed me fifty loads of goods and gave me ten thousand dinars, wherewith I set out for Baghdad; but when I reached the Lion’s Copse, the wild Arabs came out against me and took all my goods and monies. So I entered the city knowing not where to pass the night and, seeing this place, I took shelter here.” Quoth the old man, “O my son, what sayest thou to my giving thee a thousand dinars and a suit of clothes and a mule worth other two thousand?” Ala al-Din asked, “To what end wilt thou give me these things, O my uncle?” and the other answered, ‘This young man who accompanieth me is the son of my brother and an only son; and I have a daughter called Zubaydah1 the lutist, an only child who is a model of beauty and loveliness, so I married her to him. Now he loveth her, but she loatheth him; and when he chanced to take an oath of triple divorcement and broke it, forthright she left him. Whereupon he egged on all the folk to intercede with me to restore her to him; but I told him that this could not lawfully be save by an intermediate marriage, and we have agreed to make some stranger the intermediary2 in order that none may taunt and shame him with this affair. So, as thou art a stranger, come with us and we will marry thee to her; thou shalt lie with her to-night and on the morrow divorce her and we will give thee what I said.” Quoth Ala al-Din to himself, “By Allah, to bide the night with a bride on a bed in a house is far better than sleeping in the streets and vestibules!” So he went with them to the Kazi whose heart, as soon as he saw Ala al-Din, was moved to love him, and who said to the old man, “What is your will?” He replied, “We wish to make this young man an intermediary husband for my daughter; but we will write a bond against him binding him to pay down by way of marriage-settlement ten thousand gold pieces. Now if after passing the night with her he divorce her in the morning, we will give him a mule and dress each worth a thousand dinars, and a third thousand of ready money; but if he divorce her not, he shall pay down the ten thousand dinars according to contract.” So they agreed to the agreement and the father of the bride-to-be received his bond for the marriage-settlement. Then he took Ala al-Din and, clothing him anew, carried him to his daughter’s house and there he left him standing at the door, whilst he himself went in to the young lady and said, “Take the bond of thy marriage-settlement, for I have wedded thee to a handsome youth by name Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat: so do thou use him with the best of usage.” Then he put the bond into her hands and left her and went to his own lodging. Now the lady’s cousin had an old duenna who used to visit Zubaydah, and he had done many a kindness to this woman, so he said to her, “O my mother, if my cousin Zubaydah see this handsome young man, she will never after accept my offer; so I would fain have thee contrive some trick to keep her and him apart.” She answered, “By the life of thy youth,3 I will not suffer him to approach her!” Then she went to Ala al-Din and said to him, “O my son, I have a word of advice to give thee, for the love of Almighty Allah and do thou accept my counsel, as I fear for thee from this young woman: better thou let her lie alone and feel not her person nor draw thee near to her.” He asked, “Why so?”; and she answered, “Because her body is full of leprosy and I dread lest she infect thy fair and seemly youth.” Quoth he, “I have no need of her.” Thereupon she went to the lady and said the like to her of Ala al-Din, and she replied, “I have no need of him, but will let him lie alone, and on the morrow he shall gang his gait.” Then she called a slave-girl and said to her, “Take the tray of food and set it before him that he may sup.” So the handmaid carried him the tray of food and set it before him and he ate his fill: after which he sat down and raised his charming voice and fell to reciting the chapter called Y. S.4 The lady listened to him and found his voice as melodious as the psalms of David sung by David himself,5 which when she heard, she exclaimed, “Allah disappoint the old hag who told me that he was affected with leprosy! Surely this is not the voice of one who hath such a disease; and all was a lie against him.”6 Then she took a lute of India-land workmanship and, tuning the strings, sang to it in a voice so sweet its music would stay the birds in the heart of heaven; and began these two couplets,
“I love a fawn with gentle white black eyes,
Whose walk the willow-wand with envy kills:
Forbidding me he bids for rival-mine,
’Tis Allah’s grace who grants to whom He wills!”
And when he heard her chant these lines he ended his recitation of the chapter, and began also to sing and repeated the following couplet,
“My Salám to the Fawn in the garments concealed,
And to roses in gardens of cheek revealed.”
The lady rose up when she heard this, her inclination for him redoubled and she lifted the curtain; and Ala al-Din, seeing her, recited these two couplets,
“She shineth forth, a moon, and bends, a willow wand,
And breathes out ambergris, and gazes, a gazelle.
Meseems as if grief loved my heart and when from her
Estrangement I abide possession to it fell.”7
Thereupon she came forward, swinging her haunches and gracefully swaying a shape the handiwork of Him whose boons are hidden; and each of them stole one glance of the eyes that cost them a thousand sighs. And when the shafts of the two regards which met rankled in his heart, he repeated these two couplets,
“She ‘spied the moon of Heaven, reminding me
Of nights when met we in the meadows li’en:
True, both saw moons, but sooth to say, it was
Her very eyes I saw, and she my eyne.”
And when she drew near him, and there remained but two paces between them, he recited these two couplets,
“She spread three tresses of unplaited hair
One night, and showed me nights not one but four;
And faced the moon of Heaven with her brow,
And showed me two-fold moons in single hour.”
And as she was hard by him he said to her, “Keep away from me, lest thou infect me.” Whereupon she uncovered her wrist8 to him, and he saw that it was cleft, as it were in two halves, by its veins and sinews and its whiteness was as the whiteness of virgin silver. Then said she, “Keep away from me, thou! for thou art stricken with leprosy, and maybe thou wilt infect me.” He asked, “Who told thee I was a leper?” and she answered, “The old woman so told me.” Quoth he, “’Twas she told me also that thou wast afflicted with white scurvy;” and so saying, he bared his forearms and showed her that his skin was also like virgin silver. Thereupon she pressed him to her bosom and he pressed her to his bosom and the twain embraced with closest embrace, then she took him and, lying down on her back, let down her petticoat trousers, and in an instant that which his father had left him rose up in rebellion against him and he said, “Go it, O Shayth Zachary9 of shaggery, O father of veins!”; and putting both hands to her flanks, he set the sugar-stick10 to the mouth of the cleft and thrust on till he came to the wicket called “Pecten.” His passage was by the Gate of Victories11 and therefrom he entered the Monday market, and those of Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday,12 and, finding the carpet after the measure of the dais floor,13 he plied the box within its cover till he came to the end of it. And when morning dawned he cried to her, “Alas for delight which is not fulfilled! The raven14 taketh it and flieth away!” She asked, “What meaneth this saying?”; and he answered, “O my lady, I have but this hour to abide with thee.” Quoth she “Who saith so?” and quoth he, “Thy father made me give him a written bond to pay ten thousand dinars to thy wedding-settlement; and, except I pay it this very day, they will imprison me for debt in the Kazi’s house; and now my hand lacketh one-half dirham of the sum.” She asked, “O my lord, is the marriage-bond in thy hand or in theirs?”; and he answered, “O my lady, in mine, but I have nothing.” She rejoined, “The matter is easy; fear thou nothing. Take these hundred dinars: an I had more, I would give thee what thou lackest; but of a truth my father, of his love for my cousin, hath transported all his goods, even to my jewellery from my lodging to his. But when they send thee a serjeant of the Ecclesiastical Court,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A popular name, dim. of Zubdah cream, fresh butter, “creamkin.”
2 Arab. “Mustahall,” “Mustahill’ and vulg. “Muhallil” (=one who renders lawful). It means a man hired for the purpose who marries pro forma and after wedding, and bedding with actual-consummation, at once divorces the woman. He is held the reverse of respectable and no wonder. Hence, probably, Mandeville’s story of the Islanders who, on the marriage-night, “make another man to lie by their wives, to have their maidenhead, for which they give great hire and much thanks. And there are certain men in every town that serve for no other thing; and they call them cadeberiz, that is to say, the fools of despair, because they believe their occupation is a dangerous one.” Burckhardt gives the proverb (No. 79), “A thousand lovers rather than one Mustahall,” the latter being generally some ugly fellow picked up in the streets and disgusting to the wife who must permit his embraces.
3 This is a woman’s oath. not used by men.
4 Pronounced “Yá Sín” (chaps. xxxvi.) the “heart of the Koran” much used for edifying recitation. Some pious Moslems in Egypt repeat it as a Wazifah, or religious task, or as masses for the dead, and all educated men know its 83 versets by rote.
5 Arab. “Ál-Dáúd”=the family of David, i.e. David himself, a popular idiom. The prophet’s recitation of the “Mazámir” (Psalter) worked miracles.
6 There is a peculiar thickening of the voice in leprosy which at once betrays the hideous disease.
7 These lines have occurred in Night clxxxiii. I quote Mr. Payne (in loco) by way of variety.
8 Where the “Juzám” (leprosy, elephantiasis, morbus sacrum, etc. etc.) is supposed first to show: the swelling would alter the shape. Lane (ii. 267) translates “her wrist which was bipartite.”
9 Arab. “Zakariyá” (Zacharias): a play upon the term “Zakar”=the sign of “masculinity.” Zacharias, mentioned in the Koran as the educator of the Virgin Mary (chaps. iii.) and repeatedly referred to (chaps. xix. etc.), is a well-known personage amongst Moslems and his church is now the great Cathedral–Mosque of Aleppo.
10 Arab. “ Ark al-Haláwat “ = vein of sweetness.
11 Arab. “Futúh,” which may also mean openings, has before occurred.
12 i.e. four times without withdrawing.
13 i.e. a correspondence of size, concerning which many rules are given in the Ananga–Rangha Shastra which justly declares that discrepancy breeds matrimonial-troubles.
14 Arab. “Ghuráb al-Bayn”= raven of the waste or the parting: hence the bird of Odin symbolises separation (which is also called Al-bayn). The Raven (Ghurab = Heb. Oreb and Lat. Corvus, one of the prehistoric words) is supposed to be seen abroad earlier than any other bird; and it is entitled “Abu Zajir,” father of omens, because lucky when flying towards the right and v.v. It is opposed in poetry to the (white) pigeon, the emblem of union, peace and happiness. The vulgar declare that when Mohammed hid in the cave the crow kept calling to his pursuers, “Ghár! Ghár!” (cavern, cavern): hence the Prophet condemned him to wear eternal-mourning and ever to repeat the traitorous words. This is the old tale of Coronis and Apollo (Ovid, lib. ii.).
—————” who blacked the raven o’er
And bid him prate in his white plumes no more.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young lady rejoined to Ala al-Din, “And when they send thee at an early hour a serjeant of the Ecclesiastical–Court, and the Kazi and my father bid thee divorce me, do thou reply, By what law is it lawful and right that I should marry at nightfall and divorce in the morning? Then kiss the Kazi’s hand and give him a present, and in like manner kiss the Assessors’ hands and give each of them ten gold pieces. So they will all speak with thee, and if they ask thee, ‘Why dost thou not divorce her and take the thousand dinars and the mule and suit of clothes, according to contract duly contracted?’ do thou answer, ‘Every hair of her head is worth a thousand ducats to me and I will never put her away, neither will I take a suit of clothes nor aught else.’ And if the Kazi say to thee, ‘Then pay down the marriage-settlement,’ do thou reply, ‘I am short of cash at this present;’ whereupon he and the Assessors will deal in friendly fashion with thee and allow thee time to pay.” Now whilst they were talking, behold, the Kazi’s officer knocked at the door; so Ala al-Din went down and the man said to him, “Come, speak the Efendi,1 for thy fatherinlaw summoneth thee.” So Ala al-Din gave him five dinars and said to him, “O Summoner, by what law am I bound to marry at nightfall and divorce next morning?” The serjeant answered, “By no law of ours at all, at all; and if thou be ignorant of the religious law, I will act as thine advocate.” Then they went to the divorce court and the Kazi said to Ala al-Din, “Why dost thou not put away the woman and take what falleth to thee by the contract?” Hearing this he went up to the Kazi; and, kissing his hand, put fifty dinars in it and said, “O our lord the Kazi, by what law is it lawful and right that I should marry at nightfall and divorce in the morning in my own despite?” The Kazi, answered, “Divorce as a compulsion and by force is sanctioned by no school of the Moslems.” Then said the young lady’s father, “If thou wilt not divorce, pay me the ten thousand dinars, her marriage-settlement.” Quoth Ala al-Din, “Give me a delay of three days;” but the Kazi, said, “Three days is not time enough; he shall give thee ten.” So they agreed to this and bound him after ten days either to pay the dowry or to divorce her. And after consenting he left them and taking meat and rice and clarified butter2 and what else of food he needed, returned to the house and told the young woman all that had passed; whereupon she said, “‘Twixt night and day, wonders may display; and Allah bless him for his say:—
‘Be mild when rage shall come to afflict thy soul;
Be patient when calamity breeds ire;
Lookye, the Nights are big with child by Time,
Whose pregnancy bears wondrous things and dire.’”
Then she rose and made ready food and brought the tray, and they two ate and drank and were merry and mirthful. Presently Ala al-Din besought her to let him hear a little music; so she took the lute and played a melody that had made the hardest stone dance for glee, and the strings cried out in present ecstacy, “O Loving One!’’;3 after which she passed from the adagio into the presto and a livelier measure. As they thus spent their leisure in joy and jollity and mirth and merriment, behold, there came a knocking at the door and she said to him; “Go see who is at the door.” So he went down and opened it and finding four Dervishes standing without, said to them, “What want ye?” They replied, “O my lord, we are foreign and wandering religious mendicants, the viands of whose souls are music and dainty verse, and we would fain take our pleasure with thee this night till morning cloth appear, when we will wend our way, and with Almighty Allah be thy reward; for we adore music and there is not one of us but knoweth by heart store of odes and songs and ritornellos.”4 He answered, “There is one I must consult;” and he returned and told Zubaydah who said, “Open the door to them.” So he brought them up and made them sit down and welcomed them; then he fetched them food, but they would not eat and said, “O our lord, our meat is to repeat Allah’s name in our hearts and to hear music with our ears: and bless him who saith,
‘Our aim is only converse to enjoy,
And eating joyeth only cattle-kind.’5
And just now we heard pleasant music in thy house, but when we entered, it ceased; and fain would we know whether the player was a slave-girl, white or black, or a maiden of good family.” He answered, “It was this my wife,” and told them all that had befallen him, adding, “Verily my father-in-law hath bound me to pay a marriage-settlement of ten thousand dinars for her, and they have given me ten days’ time.” Said one of the Dervishes, “Have no care and think of naught but good; for I am Shaykh of the Convent and have forty Dervishes under my orders. I will presently collect from them the ten thousand dinars and thou shalt pay thy father-in-law the wedding settlement. But now bid thy wife make us music that we may be gladdened and pleasured; for to some folk music is meat, to others medicine and to others refreshing as a fan.” Now these four Dervishes were none other than the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, his Wazir Ja’afar the Barmecide, Abu al-Nowás al-Hasan son of Háni6 and Masrur the sworder; and the reason of their coming to the house was that the Caliph, being heavy at heart, had summoned his Minister and said, “O Wazir! it is our will to go down to the city and pace its streets, for my breast is sore straitened.” So they all four donned dervish dress and went down and walked about, till they came to that house where, hearing music, they were minded to know the cause. They spent the night in joyance and harmony and telling tale after tale until morning dawned, when the Caliph laid an hundred gold pieces under the prayer-carpet and all taking leave of Ala al-Din, went their way. Now when Zubaydah lifted the carpet she found beneath it the hundred dinars and she said to her husband, “Take these hundred dinars which I have found under the prayer-carpet; assuredly the Dervishes when about to leave us laid them there, without our knowledge.” So Ala al-Din took the money and, repairing to the market, bought therewith meat and rice and clarified butter and all they required. And when it was night, he lit the wax-candles and said to his wife, “The mendicants, it is true, have not brought the ten thousand dinars which they promised me; but indeed they are poor men.” As they were talking, behold, the Dervishes knocked at the door and she said, “Go down and open to them.” So he did her bidding and bringing them up, said to them, “Have you brought me the ten thousand dinars you promised me?” They answered, “We have not been able to collect aught thereof as yet; but fear nothing: Inshallah, tomorrow we will compound for thee some alchemical-cookery. But now bid thy wife play us her very best pieces and gladden our hearts for we love music.” So she took her lute and made them such melody that had caused the hardest rocks to dance with glee; and they passed the night in mirth and merriment, converse and good cheer, till morn appeared with its sheen and shone, when the Caliph laid an hundred gold pieces under the prayer-carpet and all, after taking leave of Ala al-Din, went their way. And they ceased not to visit him thus every night for nine nights; and each morning the Caliph put an hundred dinars under the prayer carpet, till the tenth night, when they came not. Now the reason of their failure to come was that the Caliph had sent to a great merchant, saying to him, “Bring me fifty loads of stuffs, such as come from Cairo,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This use of a Turkish title “Efendi” being=our esquire, and inferior to a Bey, is a rank anachronism, probably of the copyist.
2 Arab. “Samn”=Hind. “Ghi” butter melted, skimmed and allowed to cool.
3 Arab. “Ya Wadúd,” a title of the Almighty: the Mac. Edit. has “O David!”
4 Arab. “Muwashshahah;” a complicated stanza of which specimens have occurred. Mr. Payne calls it a “ballad,” which would be a “Kunyat al-Zidd.”
5 Arab. “Baháim” (plur. of Bahímah=Heb. Behemoth), applied in Egypt especially to cattle. A friend of the “Oppenheim” house, a name the Arabs cannot pronounce was known throughout Cairo as “Jack al-baháim” (of the cows).
6 Lit. “The father of side-locks,” a nickname of one of the Tobba Kings. This “Hasan of: the ringlets” who wore two long pig-tails hanging to his shoulders was the Rochester or Piron of his age: his name is still famous for brilliant wit, extempore verse and the wildest debauchery. D’Herbelot’s sketch of his life is very meagre. His poetry has survived to the present day and (unhappily) we shall hear more of “Abu Nowás.” On the subject of these patronymics Lane (Mod. Egypt, chaps. iv.) has a strange remark that “Abu Dáúd i’ not the Father of Dáúd or Abu Ali the Father of Ali, but whose Father is (or was) Dáúd or Ali.” Here, however, he simply confounds Abu = father of (followed by a genitive), with Abu-h (for Abu-hu) = he, whose father.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Prince of True Believers said to that merchant, “Bring me fifty loads of stuffs such as come from Cairo, and let each one be worth a thousand dinars, and write on each bale its price; and bring me also a male Abyssinian slave.” The merchant did the bidding of the Caliph who committed to the slave a basin and ewer of gold and other presents, together with the fifty loads; and wrote a letter to Ala al-Din as from his father Shams al-Din and said to him, “Take these bales and what else is with them, and go to such and such a quarter wherein dwelleth the Provost of the merchants and say, ‘Where be Ala al-Din Abu al Shamat?’ till folk direct thee to his quarter and his house.” So the slave took the letter and the goods and what else and fared forth on his errand. Such was his case; but as regards Zubaydah’s cousin and first husband, he went to her father and said to him, “Come let us go to Ala al-Din and make him divorce the daughter of my uncle.” So they set out both together and, when they came to the street in which the house stood, they found fifty he mules laden with bales of stuffs, and a blackamoor riding on a she mule. So they said to him, “Whose loads are these?” He replied, “They belong to my lord Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat; for his father equipped him with merchandise and sent him on a journey to Baghdad-city; but the wild Arabs came forth against him and took his money and goods and all he had. So when the ill news reached his father, he despatched me to him with these loads, in lieu of those he had lost; besides a mule laden with fifty thousand dinars, a parcel of clothes worth a power of money, a robe of sables1 and a basin and ewer of gold.” Whereupon the lady’s father said, “He whom thou seekest is my son-in-law and I will show thee his house.” Meanwhile Ala al-Din was sitting at home in huge concern, when lo! one knocked at the door and he said, “O Zubaydah, Allah is all-knowing! but I fear thy father hath sent me an officer from the Kazi or the Chief of Police.” Quoth she, “Go down and see what it is.” So he went down; and, opening the door, found his father-in-law, the Provost of the merchants with an Abyssinian slave, dusky complexioned and pleasant of favour, riding on a mule. When the slave saw him he dismounted and kissed his hands, and Ala al-Din said, “What dost thou want?” He replied, “I am the slave of my lord Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, son of Shams al-Din, Consul of the merchants for the land of Egypt, who hath sent me to him with this charge.” Then he gave him the letter and Ala al-Din opening it found written what followeth:2
“Ho thou my letter! when my friend shall see thee,
Kiss thou the ground and buss his sandal-shoon:
Look thou hie softly and thou hasten not,
My life and rest are in those hands so boon.
“After hearty salutations and congratulations and high estimation from Shams al-Din to his son, Abu al-Shamat. Know, O my son, that news hath reached me of the slaughter of thy men and the plunder of thy monies and goods; so I send thee herewith fifty loads of Egyptian stuffs, together with a suit of clothes and a robe of sables and a basin and ewer of gold. Fear thou no evil, and the goods thou hast lost were the ransom of thy life; so regret them not and may no further grief befall thee. Thy mother and the people of the house are doing well in health and happiness and all greet thee with abundant greetings. Moreover, O my son, it hath reached me that they have married thee, by way of intermediary, to the lady Zubaydah the lutist and they have imposed on thee a marriage-settlement of ten thousand dinars; wherefore I send thee also fifty thousand dinars by the slave Salím.”3 Now when Ala al-Din had made an end of reading the letter, he took possession of the loads and, turning to the Provost, said to him, “O my father-in-law, take the ten thousand dinars, the marriage-settlement of thy daughter Zubaydah, and take also the loads of goods and dispose of them, and thine be the profit; only return me the cost price.” He answered, “Nay, by Allah, I will take nothing; and, as for thy wife’s settlement, do thou settle the matter with her.” Then, after the goods had been brought in, they went to Zuhaydah and she said to her sire, “O my father, whose loads be these?” He said, “These belong to thy husband, Ala al-Din: his father hath sent them to him instead of those whereof the wild Arabs spoiled him. Moreover, he hath sent him fifty thousand dinars with a parcel of clothes, a robe of sables, a she mule for riding and a basin and ewer of gold. As for the marriage-settlement that is for thy recking.” Thereupon Ala al-Din rose and, opening the money box, gave her her settlement and the lady’s cousin said, “O my uncle, let him divorce to me my wife;” but the old man replied, “This may never be now; for the marriage tie is in his hand.” Thereupon the young man went out, sore afflicted and sadly vexed and, returning home, fell sick, for his heart had received its death blow; so he presently died. But as for Ala al-Din, after receiving his goods he went to the bazar and buying what meats and drinks he needed, made a banquet as usual — against the night, saying to Zubaydah, “See these lying Dervishes; they promised us and broke their promises.” Quoth she, “Thou art the son of a Consul of the merchants, yet was thy hand short of half a dirham; how then should it be with poor Dervishes?” Quoth he, “Almighty Allah hath enabled us to do without them; but if they come to us never again will I open the door to them.” She asked, “Why so, whenas their coming footsteps brought us good luck; and, moreover, they put an hundred dinars under the prayer carpet for us every night? Perforce must thou open the door to them an they come.” So when day departed with its light and in gloom came night, they lighted the wax candles and he said to her, “Rise, Zubaydah, make us music;” and behold, at this moment some one knocked at the door, and she said, “Go and look who is at the door.” So he went down and opened it and seeing the Dervishes, said, “Oh, fair welcome to the liars! Come up.” Accordingly they went up with him and he seated them and brought them the tray of food; and they ate and drank and became merry and mirthful, and presently said to him, “O my lord, our hearts have been troubled for thee: what hath passed between thee and thy father-in-law?” He answered, “Allah compensated us beyond and above our desire.” Rejoined they, “By Allah, we were in fear for thee”. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Samúr,” applied in slang language to cats and dogs, hence the witty Egyptians converted Admiral–Seymour (Lord Alcester) into “Samúr.”
2 The home-student of Arabic may take this letter as a model even in the present day; somewhat stiff and old-fashioned, but gentlemanly and courteous.
3 Arab. “Salím” (not Sé-lim) meaning the “Safe and sound.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Dervishes thus addressed Ala al-Din, “By Allah, we were in fear for thee and naught kept us from thee but our lack of cash and coin.” Quoth he, “Speedy relief hath come to me from my Lord; for my father hath sent me fifty thousand dinars and fifty loads of stuffs, each load worth a thousand dinars; besides a riding-mule, a robe of sables, an Abyssinian slave and a basin and ewer of gold. Moreover, I have made my peace with my father-in-law and my wife hath become my lawful wife by my paying her settlement; so laud to Allah for that!” Presently the Caliph rose to do a necessity; whereupon Ja’afar bent him towards Ala al-Din and said, “Look to thy manners, for thou art in the presence of the Commander of the Faithful “ Asked he, “How have I failed in good breeding before the Commander of the Faithful, and which of you is he?” Quoth Ja’afar, “He who went out but now to make water is the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, and I am the Wazir Ja’afar; and this is Masrur the executioner and this other is Abu Nowas Hasan bin Hani.. And now, O Ala al-Din, use thy reason and bethink thee how many days’ journey it is between Cairo and Baghdad.” He replied, “Five and forty days’ journey;” and Ja’afar rejoined, “Thy baggage was stolen only ten days ago; so how could the news have reached thy father, and how could he pack thee up other goods and send them to thee five-and-forty days’ journey in ten days’ time?” Quoth Ala al-Din, “O my lord and whence then came they?” “From the Commander of the Faithful,” replied Ja’afar, “of his great affection for thee.” As they were speaking, lo! the Caliph entered and Ala al-Din rising, kissed the ground before him and said, “Allah keep thee, O Prince of the Faithful, and give thee long life; and may the lieges never lack thy bounty and beneficence!” Replied the Caliph, “O Ala al-Din, let Zubaydah play us an air, by way of house-warming1 for thy deliverance.” Thereupon she played him on the lute so rare a melody that the very stones shook for glee, and the strings cried out for present ecstasy, “O Loving One!” They spent the night after the merriest fashion, and in the morning the Caliph said to Ala al-Din, “Come to the Divan to-morrow.” He answered, “Hearkening and obedience, O Commander of the Faithful; so Allah will and thou be well and in good case!” On the morrow he took ten trays and, putting on each a costly present, went up with them to the palace; and the Caliph was sitting on the throne when, behold, Ala al-Din appeared at the door of the Divan, repeating these two couplets,
“Honour and Glory wait on thee each morn!
Thine enviers’ noses in the dust be set!
Ne’er cease thy days to be as white as snow;
Thy foeman’s days to be as black as jet!”
“Welcome, O Ala Al–Din!” said the Caliph, and he replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, the Prophet (whom Allah bless and assain!)2 was wont to accept presents; and these ten trays, with what is on them, are my offering to thee.” The Caliph accepted his gift and, ordering him a robe of honour, made him Provost of the merchants and gave him a seat in the Divan. And as he was sitting behold, his father-in-law came in and, seeing Ala al-Din seated in his place and clad in a robe of honour, said to the Caliph, “O King of the age, why is this man sitting in my place and wearing this robe of honour?” Quoth the Caliph, “I have made him Provost of the merchants, for offices are by investiture and not in perpetuity, and thou art deposed.” Answered the merchant, “Thou hast done well, O Commander of the Faithful, for he is ours and one of us. Allah make the best of us the managers of our affairs! How many a little one hath become great!” Then the Caliph wrote Ala al-Din a Firman3 of investiture and gave it to the Governor who gave it to the crier,4 and the crier made proclamation in the Divan saying, “None is Provost of the merchants but Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, and his word is to be heard, and he must be obeyed with due respect paid, and he meriteth homage and honour and high degree!” Moreover, when the Divan broke up, the Governor went down with the crier before Ala Al–Din!” and the crier repeated the proclamation and they carried Ala al-Din through the thoroughfares of Baghdad, making proclamation of his dignity. Next day, Ala al-Din opened a shop for his slave Salim and set him therein, to buy and sell, whilst he himself rode to the palace and took his place in the Caliph’s Divan. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Haláwah”=sweetmeat, meaning an entertainment such as men give to their friends after sickness or a journey. it is technically called as above, “The Sweetmeat of Safety.”
2 Arab. “Salát” which from Allah means mercy, from the Angels intercession and pardon; and from mankind blessing. Concerning the specific effects of blessing the Prophet, see Pilgrimage (ii. 70). The formula is often slurred over when a man is in a hurry to speak: an interrupting friend will say “ Bless the Prophet!” and he does so by ejaculating “Sa’am.”
3 Persian, meaning originally a command: it is now applied to a Wazirial-order as opposed to the “ Irádah,” the Sultan’s order.
4 Arab. “ Mashá‘ilí” lit. the cresses-bearer who has before appeared as hangman.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ala al-Din rode to the palace and took his place in the Caliph’s Divan. Now it came to pass one day, when he sat in his stead as was his wont, behold, one said to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, may thy head survive such an one the cup-companion!; for he is gone to the mercy of Almighty Allah, but be thy life prolonged!”1 Quoth the Caliph, “Where is Ala al-Din Abu al-al-Shamat?” So he went up to the Commander of the Faithful, who at once clad him in a splendid dress of honour and made him his boon-companion; appointing him a monthly pay and allowance of a thousand dinars. He continued to keep him company till, one day, as he sat in the Divan, according to his custom attending upon the Caliph, lo and behold! an Emir came up with sword and shield in hand and said, “O Commander of the Faithful, may thy head long outlive the Head of the Sixty, for he is dead this day;” whereupon the Caliph ordered Ala al-Din a dress of honour and made him Chief of the Sixty, in place of the other who had neither wife nor son nor daughter. So Ala al-Din laid hands on his estate and the Caliph said to him, “Bury him in the earth and take all he hath left of wealth and slaves and handmaids.”2 Then he shook the handkerchief 3 and dismissed the Divan, whereupon Ala al-Din went forth, attended by Ahmad al-Danaf, captain of the right, and Hasan Shúmán, captain of the left, riding at his either stirrup, each with his forty men.4 Presently, he turned to Hasan Shuman and his men and said to them, “Plead ye for me with the Captain Ahmad al-Danaf that he please to accept me as his son by covenant before Allah.” And Ahmad assented, saying, “I and my forty men will go before thee to the Divan every morning.” Now after this Ala al-Din continued in the Caliph’s service many days; till one day it chanced that he left the Divan and returning home, dismissed Ahmad al-Danaf and his men and sat down with his wife Zubaydab, the lute-player, who lighted the wax candles and went out of the room upon an occasion. Suddenly he heard a loud shriek; so he rose up and running in haste to see what was the matter, found that it was his wife who had cried out. She was lying at full length on the ground and, when he put his hand to her breast, he found her dead. Now her father’s house faced that of Ala al-Din, and he, hearing the shriek, came in and said, “What is the matter, O my lord Ala al-Din?” He replied, “O my father, may thy head outlive thy daughter Zubaydah! But, O my father, honour to the dead is burying them.” So when the morning dawned, they buried her in the earth and her husband and father condoled with and mutually consoled each other. Thus far concerning her; but as regards Ala al-Din he donned mourning dress and declined the Divan, abiding tearful-eyed and heavy-hearted at home. After a while, the Caliph said to Ja’afar, “O Watir, what is the cause of Ala al-Din’s absence from the Divan?” The Minister answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, he is in mourning for his wife Zubaydah; and is occupied in receiving those who come to console him;” and the Caliph said, “It behoveth us to pay him a visit of condolence.” “I hear and I obey,” replied Ja’afar. So they took horse, the Caliph and the Minister and a few attendants, and rode to Ala al-Din’s house and, as he was sitting at home, behold, the party came in upon him; whereupon he rose to receive them and kissed the ground before the Caliph, who said to him, “Allah make good thy loss to thee!” Answered Ala Al–Din, “May Allah preserve thee to us, O Commander of the Faithful!” Then said the Caliph, “O Ala al-Din, why hast thou absented thyself from the Divan?” And he replied, “Because of my mourning for my wife, Zubaydah, O Commander of the Faithful.” The Caliph rejoined, “Put away grief from thee: verily she is dead and gone to the mercy of Almighty Allah and mourning will avail thee nothing; no, nothing.” But Ala al-Din said “O Commander of the Faithful, I shall never leave mourning for her till I die and they bury me by her side.” Quoth the Caliph, “In Allah is compensation for every decease, and neither device nor riches can deliver from death; and divinely gifted was he who said,
‘All sons of woman, albe long preserved,
Are borne upon the bulging bier some day.5
How then shall ‘joy man joy or taste delight,
Upon whose cheeks shall rest the dust and clay?’”
When the Caliph had made an end of condoling with him, he charged him not to absent himself from the Divan and returned to his palace. And Ala Al–Din, after a last sorrowful night, mounted early in the morning and, riding to the court, kissed the ground before the Commander of the Faithful who made a movement if rising from the throne6 to greet and welcome him; and bade him take his appointed place in the Divan, saying, “O Ala al-Din, thou art my guest to-night.” So presently he carried him into his serraglio and calling a slave-girl named Kút al-Kulúb, said to her, “Ala al-Din had a wife called Zubaydah, who used to sing to him and solace him of cark and care; but she is gone to the mercy of Almighty Allah, and now I would have thee play him an air upon the lute,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Another polite formula for announcing a death.
2 As he died heirless the property lapsed to the Treasury.
3This shaking the kerchief is a signal to disperse and the action suggests its meaning. Thus it is used in an opposite sense to “throwing the kerchief,” a pseudo-Oriental practice whose significance is generally understood in Europe.
4 The body-guard being of two divisions.
5 Arab. “Hadbá,” lit. “hump-backed;” alluding to the Badawi bier; a pole to which the corpse is slung (Lane). It seems to denote the protuberance of the corpse when placed upon the bier which before was flat. The quotation is from Ka’ab’s Mantle–Poem (Burdah v. 37), “Every son of a female, long though his safety may be, is a day borne upon a ridged implement,” says Mr. Redhouse, explaining the latter as a “bier with a ridged lid.” Here we differ: the Janázah with a lid is not a Badawi article: the wildlings use the simplest stretcher; and I would translate the lines,
“The son of woman, whatso his career
One day is borne upon the gibbous bier.”
6 This is a high honour to any courtier.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph said to the damsel Kut al-Kulub, “I would have thee play him upon the lute an air, of fashion sweet and rare, that he may be solaced of his cark and care.” So she rose and made sweet music; and the Caliph said to Ala al-Din, “What sayst thou of this damsel’s voice?” He replied, “Verily, O Commander of the Faithful, Zubaydah’s voice was the finer; but she is skilled in touching the lute cunningly and her playing would make a rock dance with glee.” The Caliph asked, “Doth she please thee?’’ and he answered, “She doth, O Commander of the Faithful;” whereupon the King said, “By the life of my head and the tombs of my forefathers, she is a gift from me to thee, she and her waiting- women!” Ala al-Din fancied that the Caliph was jesting with him; but, on the morrow, the King went in to Kut al-Kulub and said to her, “I have given thee to Ala Al–Din, whereat she rejoiced, for she had seen and loved him. Then the Caliph returned from his serraglio palace to the Divan; and, calling porters, said to them, “Set all the goods of Kut al-Kulub and her waiting-women in a litter, and carry them to Ala al-Din’s home.” So they conducted her to the house and showed her into the pavilion, whilst the Caliph sat in the hall of audience till the dose of day, when the Divan broke up and he retired to his harem. Such was his case; but as regards Kut al-Kulub, when she had taken up her lodging in Ala al-Din’s mansion, she and her women, forty in all, besides the eunuchry, she called two of these caponised slaves and said to them, “Sit ye on stools, one on the right and another on the left hand of the door; and, when Ala al-Din cometh home, both of you kiss his hands and say to him, “Our mistress Kut al-Kulub requesteth thy presence in the pavilion, for the Caliph hath given her to thee, her and her women.” They answered, “We hear and obey;” and did as she bade them. So, when Ala al-Din returned, he found two of the Caliph’s eunuchs sitting at the door and was amazed at the matter and said to himself, “Surely, this is not my own house; or else what can have happened?” Now when the eunuchs saw him, they rose to him and, kissing his hands, said to him, “We are of the Caliph’s household and slaves to Kut al-Kulub, who saluteth thee, giving thee to know that the Caliph hath bestowed her on thee, her and her women, and requesteth thy presence.” Quoth Ala al-Din, “Say ye to her, ‘Thou art welcome; but so long as thou shalt abide with me, I will not enter the pavilion wherein thou art, for what was the master’s should not become the man’s;’ and furthermore ask her, ‘What was the sum of thy day’s expenditure in the Caliph’s palace?’” So they went in and did his errand to her, and she answered, “An hundred dinars a day;” whereupon quoth he to himself, “There was no need for the Caliph to give me Kut al-Kulub, that I should be put to such expense for her; but there is no help for it.” So she abode with him awhile and he assigned her daily an hundred dinars for her maintenance; till, one day, he absented himself from the Divan and the Caliph said to Ja’afar, “O Watir, I gave not Kut al-Kulub unto Ala al-Din but that she might console him for his wife; why, then, doth he still hold aloof from us?” Answered Ja’afar, “O Commander of the Faithful, he spake sooth who said, ‘Whoso findeth his fere, forgetteth his friends.’” Rejoined the Caliph, “Haply he hath not absented himself without excuse, but we will pay him a visit.” Now some days before this, Ala al-Din had said to Ja’afar, “I complained to the Caliph of my grief and mourning for the loss of my wife Zubaydah and he gave me Kut al-Kulub;” and the Minister replied, “Except he loved thee, he had not given her to thee. Say hast thou gone in unto her, O Ala al-Din?” He rejoined, “No, by Allah! I know not her length from her breadth.” He asked “And why?” and he answered, “O Wazir, what befitteth the lord befitteth not the liege.” Then the Caliph and Ja’afar disguised themselves and went privily to visit Ala al-Din; but he knew them and rising to them kissed the hands of the Caliph, who looked at him and saw signs of sorrow in his face. So he said to him, “O Al–Din, whence cometh this sorrow wherein I see thee? Hast thou not gone in unto Kut al-Kulub?” He replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, what befitteth the lord befitteth not the thrall. No, as yet I have not gone in to visit her nor do I know her length from her breadth; so pray quit me of her.” Quoth the Caliph, “I would fain see her and question her of her case;” and quoth Ala al-Din, “I hear and I obey, O Commander of the Faithful.” So the Caliph went in — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph went in to Kut al-Kulub, who rose to him on sighting him and kissed the ground between his hands; when he said to her, “Hath Ala al-Din gone in unto thee?” and she answered, “No, O Commander of the Faithful, I sent to bid him come, but he would not.” So the Caliph bade carry her back to the Harim and saying to Ala Al–Din, “Do not absent thyself from us,” returned to his palace. Accordingly, next morning, Ala Al–Din, mounted and rode to the Divan, where he took his seat as Chief of the Sixty. Presently the Caliph ordered his treasurer to give the Wazir Ja’afar ten thousand dinars and said when his order was obeyed, “I charge thee to go down to the bazar where handmaidens are sold and buy Ala Al–Din, a slave-girl with this sum.” So in obedience to the King, Ja’afar took Ala al-Din and went down with him to the bazar. Now as chance would have it, that very day, the Emir Khálid, whom the Caliph had made Governor of Baghdad, went down to the market to buy a slave-girl for his son and the cause of his going was that his wife, Khátún by name, had borne him a son called Habzalam Bazázah,1 and the same was foul of favour and had reached the age of twenty, without learning to mount horse; albeit his father was brave and bold, a doughty rider ready to plunge into the Sea of Darkness.2 And it happened that on a certain night he had a dream which caused nocturnal-pollution whereof he told his mother, who rejoiced and said to his father, “I want to find him a wife, as he is now ripe for wedlock.” Quoth Khálid, “The fellow is so foul of favour and withal-so rank of odour, so sordid and beastly that no woman would take him as a gift.” And she answered, “We will buy him a slave-girl.” So it befell, for the accomplishing of what Allah Almighty had decreed, that on the same day, Ja’afar and Ala al-Din, the Governor Khálid and his son went down to the market and behold, they saw in the hands of a broker a beautiful girl, lovely faced and of perfect shape, and the Wazir said to him, “O broker, ask her owner if he will take a thousand dinars for her.” And as the broker passed by the Governor with the slave, Hahzalam Bazazah cast at her one glance of the eyes which entailed for himself one thousand sighs; and he fell in love with her and passion got hold of him and he said, “O my father, buy me yonder slave-girl.” So the Emir called the broker, who brought the girl to him, and asked her her name. She replied, “My name is Jessamine;” and he said to Hahzalam Bazazah, “O my son, as she please thee, do thou bid higher for her.” Then he asked the broker, “What hath been bidden for her?” and he replied, “A thousand dinars.” Said the Governor’s son, “She is mine for a thousand pieces of gold and one more;” and the broker passed on to Ala al-Din who bid two thousand dinars for her; and as often as the Emir’s son bid another dinar, Ala al-Din bid a thousand. The ugly youth was vexed at this and said, “O broker! who is it that outbiddeth me for the slave-girl?” Answered the broker, “It is the Wazir Ja’afar who is minded to buy her for Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat.” And Ala al-Din continued till he brought her price up to ten thousand dinars, and her owner was satisfied to sell her for that sum. Then he took the girl and said to her, “I give thee thy freedom for the love of Almighty Allah;” and forthwith wrote his contract of marriage with her and carried her to his house. Now when the broker returned, after having received his brokerage, the Emir’s son summoned him and said to him, “Where is the girl?” Quoth he, “She was bought for ten thousand dinars by Ala al-Din, who hath set her free and married her.” At this the young man was greatly vexed and cast down and, sighing many a sigh, returned home, sick for love of the damsel; and he threw himself on his bed and refused food, for love and longing were sore upon him. Now when his mother saw him in this plight, she said to him, “Heaven assain thee, O my son! What aileth thee?” And he answered, “Buy me Jessamine, O my mother.” Quoth she, “When the flower-seller passeth I will buy thee a basketful of jessamine.” Quoth he, “It is not the jessamine one smells, but a slave-girl named Jessamine, whom my father would not buy for me.” So she said to her husband, “Why and wherefore didest thou not buy him the girl?” and he replied, “What is fit for the lord is not fit for the liege and I have no power to take her: no less a man bought her than Ala Al–Din, Chief of the Sixty.” Then the youth’s weakness redoubled upon him, till he gave up sleeping and eating, and his mother bound her head with the fillets of mourning. And while in her sadness she sat at home, lamenting over her son, behold, came in to her an old woman, known as the mother of Ahmad Kamákim3 the arch-thief, a knave who would bore through a middle wall and scale the tallest of the tall and steal the very kohl off the eye-ball.4 From his earliest years he had been given to these malpractices, till they made him Captain of the Watch, when he stole a sum of money; and the Chief of Police, coming upon him in the act, carried him to the Caliph, who bade put him to death on the common execution-ground.5 But he implored protection of the Wazir whose intercession the Caliph never rejected, so he pleaded for him with the Commander of the Faithful who said, “How canst thou intercede for this pest of the human race?” Ja’afar answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, do thou imprison him; whoso built the first jail was a sage, seeing that a jail is the grave of the living and a joy for the foe.” So the Caliph bade lay him in bilboes and write thereon, “Appointed to remain here until death and not to be loosed but on the corpse washer’s bench;” and they cast him fettered into limbo. Now his mother was a frequent visitor to the house of the Emir Khálid, who was Governor and Chief of Police; and she used to go in to her son in jail and say to him, “Did I not warn thee to turn from thy wicked ways?’’6 And he would always answer her, “Allah decreed this to me; but, O my mother, when thou visitest the Emir’s wife make her intercede for me with her husband.” So when the old woman came into the Lady Khatun, she found her bound with the fillets of mourning and said to her, “Wherefore dost thou mourn?” She replied, “For my son Habzalam Bazazah;” and the old woman exclaimed, “Heaven assain thy son!; what hath befallen him?” So the mother told her the whole story, and she said, “What thou say of him who should achieve such a feat as would save thy son?” Asked the lady, “And what feat wilt thou do?” Quoth the old woman, “I have a son called Ahmad Kamakim, the arch-thief, who lieth chained in jail and on his bilboes is written, ‘Appointed to remain till death’; so do thou don thy richest clothes and trick thee out with thy finest jewels and present thyself to thy husband with an open face and smiling mien; and when he seeketh of thee what men seek of women, put him off and baulk him of his will and say, ‘By Allah, ’tis a strange thing! When a man desireth aught of his wife he dunneth her till she doeth it; but if a wife desire aught of her husband, he will not grant it to her.’ Then he will say, ‘What dost thou want?’; and do thou answer, ‘First swear to grant my request.’ If he swear to thee by his head or by Allah, say to him, ‘Swear to me the oath of divorce’, and do not yield to him, except he do this. And whenas he hath sworn to thee the oath of divorce, say to him, ‘Thou keepest in prison a man called Ahmad Kamakim, and he hath a poor old mother, who hath set upon me and who urgeth me in the matter and who saith, ‘Let thy husband intercede for him with the Caliph, that my son may repent and thou gain heavenly guerdon.’” And the Lady Khatun replied, “I hear and obey.” So when her husband came into her — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “Khatun” in Turk. means any lady: mistress, etc., and follows the name, e.g. Fátimah Khatun. Habzalam Bazazah is supposed to be a fanciful compound, uncouth as the named; the first word consisting of “Habb” seed, grain; and “Zalam” of Zulm=seed of tyranny. Can it be a travesty of “Absalom” (Ab Salám, father of peace)? Lane (ii. 284) and Payne (iii. 286) prefer Habazlam and Hebezlem.
2 Or night. A metaphor for rushing into peril.
3 Plur. of kumkum, cucurbite, gourd-shaped vessel, jar.
4 A popular exaggeration for a very expert thief.
5 Arab. “Buka’at Ad-bum”: lit. the “low place of blood” (where it stagnates): so Al–Buká‘ah = Cœlesyria.
6 That common and very unpleasant phrase, full of egotism and self-esteem, “I told you so,” is even more common in the naïve East than in the West. In this case the son’s answer is far superior to the mother’s question.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Governor came in to his wife, who spoke to him as she had been taught and made him swear the divorce-oath before she would yield to his wishes. He lay with her that night and, when morning dawned, after he had made the Ghusl-ablution and prayed the dawn-prayer, he repaired to the prison and said, “O Ahmad Kamakim, O thou arch-thief, dost thou repent of thy works?”; whereto he replied, “I do indeed repent and turn to Allah and say with heart and tongue, ‘I ask pardon of Allah.’” So the Governor took him out of jail and carried him to the Court (he being still in bilboes) and, approaching the Caliph, kissed ground before him. Quoth the King, “O Emir Khálid, what seekest thou?”; whereupon he brought forward Ahmad Kamakim, shuffling and tripping in his fetters, and the Caliph said to him, “What! art thou yet alive, O Kamakim?” He replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, the miserable are long-lived.” Quoth the Caliph to the Emir, “Why hast thou brought him hither?”; and quoth he, “O Commander of the Faithful, he hath a poor old mother cut off from the world who hath none but this son and she hath had recourse to thy slave, imploring him to intercede with thee to strike off his chains, for he repenteth of his evil courses; and to make him Captain of the Watch as before.” The Caliph asked Ahmad Kamakim, “Doss thou repent of thy sins?” “I do indeed repent me to Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,” answered he; whereupon the Caliph called for the blacksmith and made him strike off his irons on the corpse-washer’s bench.1 Moreover, he restored him to his former office and charged him to walk in the ways of godliness and righteousness. So he kissed the Caliph’s hands and, being invested with the uniform of Captain of the Watch, he went forth, whilst they made proclamation of his appointment. Now for a long time he abode in the exercise of his office, till one day his mother went in to the Governor’s wife, who said to her, “Praised be Allah who hath delivered thy son from prison and restored him to health and safety! But why dost thou not bid him contrive some trick to get the girl Jessamine for my son Hahzalam Bazazah?” “That will I,” answered she and, going out from her, repaired to her son. She found him drunk with wine and said to him, “O my son, no one caused thy release from jail but the wife of the Governor, and she would have thee find some means to slay Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat and get his slave-girl Jessamine for her son Habzalam Bazazah.” He answered, “That will be the easiest of things; and I must needs set about it this very night.” Now this was the first night of the new month, and it was the custom of the Caliph to spend that night with the Lady Zubaydah, for the setting free of a slave-girl or a Mameluke or something of the sort. Moreover, on such occasions he used to doff his royal-habit, together with his rosary and dagger-sword and royal-signet, and set them all upon a chair in the sitting-saloon: and he had also a golden lanthorn, adorned with three jewels strung on a wire of gold, by which he set great store; and he would commit all these things to the charge of the eunuchry, whilst he went into the Lady Zubaydah’s apartment. So arch-thief Ahmad Kamakin waited till midnight, when Canopus shone bright, and all creatures to sleep were dight whilst the Creator veiled them with the veil of night. Then he took his drawn sword in his right and his grappling hook in his left and, repairing to the Caliph’s sitting-saloon planted his scaling ladder and cast his grapnel on to the side of the terrace-roof; then, raising the trap-door, let himself down into the saloon, where he found the eunuchs asleep. He drugged them with hemp-fumes;2 and, taking the Caliph’s dress; dagger, rosary, kerchief, signet-ring and the lanthorn whereupon were the pearls, returned whence he came and betook himself to the house of Ala al-Din, who had that night celebrated his wedding festivities with Jessamine and had gone in unto her and gotten her with child. So arch-thief Ahmad Kamakim climbed over into his saloon and, raising one of the marble slabs from the sunken part of the floor,3 dug a hole under it and laid the stolen things therein, all save the lanthorn, which he kept for himself. Then he plastered down the marble slab as it before was, and returning whence he came, went back to his own house, saying, “I will now tackle my drink and set this lanthorn before me and quaff the cup to its light.”4 Now as soon as it was dawn of day, the Caliph went out into the sitting-chamber; and, seeing the eunuchs drugged with hemp, aroused them. Then he put his hand to the chair and found neither dress nor signet nor rosary nor dagger-sword nor kerchief nor lanthorn; whereat he was exceeding wroth and donning the dress of anger, which was a scarlet suit,5 sat down in the Divan. So the Wazir Ja’afar came forward and kissing the ground before him, said, “Allah avert all evil from the Commander of the Faithful!” Answered the Caliph, “O Wazir, the evil is passing great!” Ja’afar asked, “What has happened?” so he told him what had occurred; and, behold, the Chief of Police appeared with Ahmad Kamakim the robber at his stirrup, when he found the Commander of the Faithful sore enraged. As soon as the Caliph saw him, he said to him, “O Emir Khálid, how goes Baghdad?” And he answered, “Safe and secure.” Cried he “Thou liest!” “How so, O Prince of True Believers?” asked the Emir. So he told him the case and added, “I charge thee to bring me back all the stolen things.” Replied the Emir, “O Commander of the Faithful, the vinegar worm is of and in the vinegar, and no stranger can get at this place.”6 But the Caliph said, “Except thou bring me these things, I will put thee to death.” Quoth he, “Ere thou slay me, slay Ahmad Kamakim, for none should know the robber and the traitor but the Captain of the Watch.” Then came forward Ahmad Kamakim and said to the Caliph, “Accept my intercession for the Chief of Police, and I will be responsible to thee for the thief and will track his trail till I find him; but give me two Kazis and two Assessors for he who did this thing feareth thee not, nor cloth he fear the Governor nor any other.” Answered the Caliph, “Thou shalt have what thou wantest; but let search be made first in my palace and then in those of the Wazir and the Chief of the Sixty.” Rejoined Ahmad Kamakim, “Thou sayest well, O Commander of the Faith ful; belike the man that did this ill deed be one who hath been reared in the King’s household or in that of one of his officers.” Cried the Caliph, “As my head liveth, whosoever shall have done the deed I will assuredly put him to death, be it mine own son!” Then Ahmad Kamakim received a written warrant to enter and perforce search the houses; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In order to keep his oath to the letter.
2 “Tabannuj; “ literally “hemping” (drugging with hemp or henbane) is the equivalent in Arab medicine of our “anæsthetics.” These have been used in surgery throughout the East for centuries before ether and chloroform became the fashion in the civilised West.
3 Arab. “Durká‘ah,” the lower part of the floor, opposed to the “liwán” or daïs. Liwán =Al–Aywán (Arab. and Pers.) the hall (including the daïs and the sunken parts)
4 i.e. he would toast it as he would a mistress.
5 This till very late years was the custom in Persia, and Fath Ali Shah never appeared in scarlet without ordering some horrible cruelties. In Dar–For wearing a red cashmere turban was a sign of wrath and sending a blood red dress to a subject meant that he would be slain.
6 That is, this robbery was committed in the palace by some one belonging to it. References to vinegar are frequent; that of Egypt being famous in those days. “Optimum et laudatissimum acetum a Romanis habebatur Ægyptum” (Facciolati); and possibly it was sweetened: the Gesta (Tale xvii.) mentions “must and vinegar.” In Arab Proverbs, One mind by vinegar and another by wine”=each mind goes its own way, (Arab. Prov.. 628); or, “with good and bad,” vinegar being spoilt wine.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ahmad Kamakim got what he wanted, and received a written warrant to enter and perforce search the houses; so he fared forth, taking in his hand a rod1 made of bronze and copper, iron and steel, of each three equal-parts. He first searched the palace of the Caliph, then that of the Wazir Ja’afar; after which he went the round of the houses of the Chamberlains and the Viceroys till he came to that of Ala al-Din. Now when the Chief of the Sixty heard the clamour before his house, he left his wife Jessamine and went down and, opening the door, found the Master of Police without in the midst of a tumultuous crowd. So he said, “What is the matter, O Emir Khálid?” Thereupon the Chief told him the case and Ala al-Din said, “Enter my house and search it.” The Governor replied, “Pardon, O my lord; thou art a man in whom trust is reposed and Allah forfend that the trusty turn traitor!” Quoth Ala al-Din, “There is no help for it but that my house be searched.” So the Chief of Police entered, attended by the Kazi and his Assessors; whereupon Ahmad Kamakim went straight to the depressed floor of the saloon and came to the slab, under which he had buried the stolen goods and let the rod fall upon it with such violence that the marble broke in sunder and behold something glittered underneath. Then said he, “Bismillah; in the name of Allah! Mashallah; whatso Allah willeth! By the blessing of our coming a hoard hath been hit upon, wait while we go down into this hiding-place and see what is therein.” So the Kazi and Assessors looked into the hole and finding there the stolen goods, drew up a statement2 of how they had discovered them in Ala al-Din’s house, to which they set their seals. Then, they bade seize upon Ala al-Din and took his turban from his head, and officially registered all his monies and effects which were in the mansion. Meanwhile, arch-thief Ahmad Kamakim laid hands on Jessamine, who was with child by Ala al-Din, and committed her to his mother, saying, “Deliver her to Khatun, the Governor’s lady:” so the old woman took her and carried her to the wife of the Master of Police. Now as soon as Habzalam Bazazah saw her, health and heart returned to him and he arose without stay or delay and joyed with exceeding joy and would have drawn near her; but she plucks a dagger from her girdle and said, “Keep off from me, or I will kill thee and kill myself after.” Exclaimed his mother, “O strumpet, let my son have his will of thee!” But Jessamine answered “O bitch, by what law is it lawful for a woman to marry two men; and how shall the dog be admitted to the place of the lion?” With this, the ugly youth’s love-longing redoubled and he sickened for yearning and unfulfilled desire; and refusing food returned to his pillow. Then said his mother to her, “O harlot, how canst thou make me thus to sorrow for my son? Needs must I punish thee with torture, and as for Ala al-Din, he will assuredly be hanged.” “And I will die for love of him,” answered Jessamine. Then the Governor’s wife arose and stripped her of her jewels and silken raiment and, clothing her in petticoat-trousers of sack-cloth and a shift of hair-cloth, sent her down into the kitchen and made her a scullery-wench, saying, “The reward for thy constancy shall be to break up fire-wood and peel onions and set fire under the cooking-pots.” Quoth she, “I am willing to suffer all manner of hardships and servitude, but I will not suffer the sight of thy son.” However, Allah inclined the hearts of the slave-girls to her and they used to do her service in the kitchen. Such was the case with Jessamine; but as regards Ala al-Din they carried him, together with the stolen goods, to the Divan where the Caliph still sat upon his throne. And behold, the King looked upon his effects and said, “Where did ye find them?” They replied, “In the very middle of the house belonging to Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat;” whereat the Caliph was filled with wrath and took the things, but found not the lanthorn among them and said, “O Ala al-Din, where is the lanthorn?” He answered “I stole it not, I know naught of it; I never saw it; I can give no information about it!” Said the Caliph, “O traitor, how cometh it that I brought thee near unto me and thou hast cast me out afar, and I trusted in thee and thou betrayest me?” And he commanded to hang him. So the Chief of Police took him and went down with him into the city, whilst the crier preceded them proclaiming aloud and saying, “This is the reward and the least of the reward he shall receive who doth treason against the Caliphs of True Belief!” And the folk flocked to the place where the gallows stood. Thus far concerning him; but as regards Ahmad al-Danaf, Ala al-Din’s adopted father, he was sitting making merry with his followers in a garden, and carousing and pleasuring when lo! in came one of the water-carriers of the Divan and, kissing the hand of Ahmad al-Danaf, said to him, “O Captain Ahmad, O Danaf! thou sittest at thine ease with water flowing at thy feet,3 and thou knowest not what hath happened.” Asked Ahmad, “What is it?” and the other answered, “They have gone down to the gallows with thy son Ala al-Din, adopted by a covenant before Allah!” Quoth Ahmad, “What is the remedy here, O Hasan Shuuman, and what sayst thou of this?” He replied, “Assuredly Ala al-Din is innocent and this blame hath come to him from some one enemy.”4 Quoth Ahmad, “What counsellest thou?” and Hasan said, “We must rescue him, Inshallah!” Then he went to the jail and said to the gaolor, “Give us some one who deserveth death.” So he gave him one that was likest of men to Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat; and they covered his head and carried him to the place of execution between Ahmad al-Danaf and Ali al-Zaybak of Cairo.5 Now they had brought Ala al-Din to the gibbet, to hang him, but Ahmad al-Danaf came forward and set his foot on that of the hangman, who said, “Give me room to do my duty.” He replied, “O accursed, take this man and hang him in Ala al-Din’s stead; for he is innocent and we will ransom him with this fellow, even as Abraham ransomed Ishmael with the ram.”6 So the hangman seized the man and hanged him in lieu of Ala al-Din; whereupon Ahmad and Ali took Ala al-Din and carried him to Ahmad’s quarters and, when there, Ala al-Din turned to him and said, “O my sire and chief, Allah requite thee with the best of good!” Quoth he, “O Ala al-Din”— And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 We have not heard the last of this old “dowsing rod”: the latest form of rhabdomancy is an electrical-rod invented in the United States.
2 This is the procès verbal always drawn up on such occasions.
3 The sight of running water makes a Persian long for strong drink as the sight of a fine view makes the Turk feel hungry.
4 Arab. “Min wahid aduww “ a peculiarly Egyptian or rather Cairene phrase.
5 Al–Danaf=the Distressing Sickness: the title would be Ahmad the Calamity. Al–Zaybak (the Quicksilver)=Mercury Ali Hasan “Shuuman”=a pestilent fellow. We shall meet all these worthies again and again: see the Adventures of Mercury Ali of Cairo, Night dccviii., a sequel to The Rogueries of Dalilah, Night dcxcviii.
6 For the “Sacrifice-place of Ishmael” (not Isaac) see my Pilgrimage (iii. 306). According to all Arab ideas Ishmael, being the eldest son, was the chief of the family after his father. I have noted that this is the old old quarrel between the Arabs and their cousins the Hebrews.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Calamity Ahmad cried, “O Ala al-Din, what is this deed thou hast done? The mercy of Allah be on him who said, ‘Whoso trusteth thee betray him not, e’en if thou be a traitor.’ Now the Caliph set thee in high place about him and styled thee ‘Trusty’ and ‘Faithful’; how then couldst thou deal thus with him and steal his goods?” “By the Most Great Name, O my father and chief,” replied Ala al-Din, “I had no hand in this, nor did I such deed, nor know I who did it.” Quoth Ahmad, “Of a surety none did this but a manifest enemy and whoso doth aught shall be requited for his deed; but, O Ala al-Din, thou canst sojourn no longer in Baghdad, for Kings, O my son, may not pass from one thing to another, and when they go in quest of a man, ah! longsome is his travail.” “Whither shall I go, O my chief?” asked Ala al-Din; and he answered, “O my son, I will bring thee to Alexandria, for it is a blessed place; its threshold is green and its sojourn is agreeable.” And Ala al-Din rejoined, “I hear and I obey, O my chief.” So Ahmad said to Hasan Shuuman, “Be mindful and, when the Caliph asketh for me, say, ‘He is gone touring about the provinces’.” Then, taking Ala al-Din, he went forth of Baghdad and stayed not going till they came to the outlying vineyards and gardens, where they met two Jews of the Caliph’s tax-gatherers, riding on mules. Quoth Ahmad Al–Danaf to these, “Give me the black-mail.”1 and quoth they, “Why should we pay thee black mail?” whereto he replied, “Because I am the watchman of this valley.” So they gave him each an hundred gold pieces, after which he slew them and took their mules, one of which he mounted, whilst Ala al-Din bestrode the other. Then they rode on till they came to the city of Ayás2 and put up their beasts for the night at the Khan. And when morning dawned, Ala al-Din sold his own mule and committed that of Ahmad to the charge of the door-keeper of the caravanserai, after which they took ship from Ayas port and sailed to Alexandria. Here they landed and walked up to the bazar and behold, there was a broker crying a shop and a chamber behind it for nine hundred and fifty dinars. Upon this Ala al-Din bid a thousand which the broker accepted, for the premises belonged to the Treasury; and the seller handed over to him the keys and the buyer opened the shop and found the inner parlour furnished with carpets and cushions. Moreover, he found there a store-room full of sails and masts, cordage and seamen’s chests, bags of beads and cowrie3-shells, stirrups, battle-axes, maces, knives, scissors and such matters, for the last owner of the shop had been a dealer in second-hand goods.4ook his seat in the shop and Ahmad al-Danaf said to him, “O my son, the shop and the room and that which is therein are become thine; so tarry thou here and buy and sell; and repine not at thy lot for Almighty Allah blesseth trade.” After this he abode with him three days and on the fourth he took leave of him, saying, “Abide here till I go back and bring thee the Caliph’s pardon and learn who hath played thee this trick.” Then he shipped for Ayas, where he took the mule from the inn and, returning to Baghdad met Pestilence Hasan and his followers, to whom said he, “Hath the Caliph asked after me?”; and he replied, “No, nor hast thou come to his thought.” So he resumed his service about the Caliph’s person and set himself to sniff about for news of Ala al-Din’s case, till one day he heard the Caliph say to the Watir, “See, O Ja’afar, how Ala al-Din dealt with me!” Replied the Minister, “O Commander of the Faithful, thou hast requited him with hanging and hath he not met with his reward?” Quoth he, “O Wazir, I have a mind to go down and see him hanging;” and the Wazir answered, “Do what thou wilt, O Commander of the Faithful.” So the Caliph, accompanied by Ja’afar, went down to the place of execution and, raising his eyes, saw the hanged man to be other than Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, surnamed the Trusty, and said, “O Wazir, this is not Ala al-Din!” “How knowest thou that it is not he?” asked the Minister, and the Caliph answered, “Ala al-Din was short and this one is tall “ Quoth Ja’afar, “Hanging stretcheth.” Quoth the Caliph, “Ala al-Din was fair and this one’s face is black.” Said Ja’afar “Knowest thou not, O Commander of the Faithful, that death is followed by blackness?” Then the Caliph bade take down the body from the gallows tree and they found the names of the two Shaykhs, Abu Bakr and Omar, written on its heels5 whereupon cried the Caliph, “O Wazir, Ala al Din was a Sunnite, and this fellow is a Rejecter, a Shi’ah.” He answered, “Glory be to Allah who knoweth the hidden things, while we know not whether this was Ala al-Din or other than he.” Then the Caliph bade bury the body and they buried it; and Ala al-Din was forgotten as though he never had been. Such was his case; but as regards Habzalam Bazazah, the Emir Khálid’s son, he ceased not to languish for love and longing till he died and they joined him to the dust. And as for the young wife Jessamine, she accomplished the months of her pregnancy and, being taken with labour-pains, gave birth to a boy-child like unto the moon. And when her fellow slave-girls said to her, “What wilt thou name him?” she answered, “Were his father well he had named him; but now I will name him Aslán.”6 She gave him suck for two successive years, then weaned him, and he crawled and walked. Now it so came to pass that one day, whilst his mother was busied with the service of the kitchen, the boy went out and, seeing the stairs, mounted to the guest-chamber.7 And the Emir Khálid who was sitting there took him upon his lap and glorified his Lord for that which he had created and fashioned then closely eyeing his face, the Governor saw that he was the likest of all creatures to Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat. Presently, his mother Jessamine sought for him and finding him not, mounted to the guest-chamber, where she saw the Emir seated, with the child playing in his lap, for Allah had inclined his heart to the boy. And when the child espied his mother, he would have thrown himself upon her; but the Emir held him tight to his bosom and said to Jessamine, “Come hither, O damsel.” So she came to him, when he said to her, “Whose son is this?”; and she replied, “He is my son and the fruit of my vitals.” “And who is his father?” asked the Emir; and she answered, “His father was Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, but now he is become thy son.” Quoth Khálid, “In very sooth Ala al-Din was a traitor.” Quoth she, “Allah deliver him from treason! the Heavens forfend and forbid that the ‘Trusty’ should be a traitor!” Then said he, “When this boy shall grow up and reach man’s estate and say to thee, ‘Who is my father?’ say to him, ‘Thou art the son of the Emir Khálid, Governor and Chief of Police.’” And she answered, “I hear and I obey.” Then he circumcised the boy and reared him with the goodliest rearing, and engaged for him a professor of law and religious science, and an expert penman who taught him to read and write; so he read the Koran twice and learnt it by heart and he grew up, saying to the Emir, “O my father!” Moreover, the Governor used to go down with him to the tilting-ground and assemble horsemen and teach the lad the fashion of fight and fray, and the place to plant lance-thrust and sabre-stroke; so that by the time he was fourteen years old, he became a valiant wight and accomplished knight and gained the rank of Emir. Now it chanced one day that Aslan fell in with Ahmad Kamakim, the arch-thief, and accompanied him as cup-companion to the tavern8 and behold, Ahmad took out the jewelled lanthorn he had stolen from the Caliph and, setting it before him, pledged the wine cup to its light, till he became drunken. So Aslan said to him, “O Captain, give me this lanthorn;” but he replied, “I cannot give it to thee.” Asked Aslan, “Why not?”; and Ahmad answered, “Because lives have been lost for it.” “Whose life?” enquired Aslan; and Ahmad rejoined, “There came hither a man who was made Chief of the Sixty; he was named Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat and he lost his life through this lanthorn.” Quoth Aslan, “And what was that story, and what brought about his death?” Quoth Ahmad Kamakim, “Thou hadst an elder brother by name Hahzalam Bazazah, and when he reached the age of sixteen and was ripe for marriage, thy father would have bought him a slave-girl named Jessamine.” And he went on to tell him the whole story from first to last of Habzalam Bazazah’s illness and what befell Ala al-Din in his innocence. When Aslan heard this, he said in thought, “Haply this slave-girl was my mother Jessamine, and my father was none other than Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat.” So the boy went out from him sorrowful, and met Calamity Ahmad, who at sight of him exclaimed, “Glory be to Him unto whom none is like!” Asked Hasan the Pestilence, “Whereat dost thou marvel, O my chief?” and Ahmad the Calamity replied, “At the make of yonder boy Aslan, for he is the likest of human creatures to Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat.” Then he called the lad and said to him, “O Aslan what is thy mother’s name?”; to which he replied, “She is called the damsel Jessamine;” and the other said, “Harkye, Aslan, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear; for thy father was none other than Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat: but, O my son, go thou in to thy mother and question her of thy father.” He said, “Hearkening and obedience,” and, going in to his mother put the question; whereupon quoth she, “Thy sire is the Emir Khálid!” “Not so,” rejoined he, “my father was none other than Ala al-Din Abu al Shamat.” At this the mother wept and said, “Who acquainted thee with this, O my son?” And he answered “Ahmad al-Danaf, Captain of the Guard.” So she told him the whole story, saying, “O my son, the True hath prevailed and the False hath failed:9 know that Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat was indeed thy sire, but it was none save the Emir Khálid who reared thee and adopted thee as his son. And now, O my child, when thou seest Ahmad al-Danaf the captain, do thou say to him, ‘I conjure thee, by Allah, O my chief, take my blood-revenge on the murderer of my father Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat!’” So he went out from his mother — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This black-mail was still paid to the Badawin of Ramlah (Alexandria) till the bombardment in 1881.
2 The famous Issus of Cilicia, now a port-village on the Gulf of Scanderoon.
3 Arab. “ Wada’á” = the concha veneris, then used as small change.
4 Arab. “Sakati”=a dealer in “castaway” articles, such es old metal,damaged goods, the pluck and feet of animals, etc.
5 The popular tale of Burckhardt’s death in Cairo was that the names of the three first Caliphs were found written upon his slipper-soles and that he was put to death by decree of the Olema. It is the merest nonsense, as the great traveller died of dysentery in the house of my old friend John Thurburn and was buried outside the Bab al-Nasr of Cairo where his tomb was restored by the late Rogers Bey (Pilgrimage i. 123).
6 Prob. a mis-spelling for Arslán, in Turk. a lion, and in slang a piastre.
7 Arab. “Maka’ad;” lit. = sitting-room.
8 Arab. “Khammárah”; still the popular term throughout Egypt for a European Hotel. It is not always intended to be insulting but it is, meaning the place where Franks meet to drink forbidden drinks.
9 A reminiscence of Mohammed who cleansed the Ka’abah of its 360 idols (of which 73 names are given by Freytag, Einleitung, etc. pp. 270, 342–57) by touching them with his staff, whereupon all fell to the ground; and the Prophet cried (Koran xvii. 84), “Truth is come, and falsehood is vanished: verily, falsehood is a thing that vanisheth” (magna est veritas, etc.). Amongst the “idols” are said to have been a statue of Abraham and the horns of the ram sacrificed in lieu of Ishmael, which (if true) would prove conclusively that the Abrahamic legend at Meccah is of ancient date and not a fiction of Al–Islam. Hence, possibly, the respect of the Judaising Tobbas of Hiwyarland for the Ka’abah. (Pilgrimage, iii. 295.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Aslan went out from his mother and, betaking himself to Calamity Ahmad, kissed his hand. Quoth the captain, “What aileth thee, O Aslan?” and quoth he, “I know now for certain that my father was Ali al-Din Abu al-Shamat and I would have thee take my blood-revenge on his murderer.” He asked, “And who was thy father’s murderer?” whereto Aslan answered, “Ahmad Kamakim the arch-thief.” “Who told thee this?” enquired he, and Aslan rejoined, “I saw in his hand the jewelled lanthorn which was lost with the rest of the Caliph’s gear, and I said to him, ‘Give me this lanthorn!’ but he refused, saying, ‘Lives have been lost on account of this’; and told me it was he who had broken into the palace and stolen the articles and deposited them in my father’s house.” Then said Ahmad al-Danaf, “When thou seest the Emir Khálid don his harness of war, say to him, ‘Equip me like thyself and take me with thee.’ Then do thou go forth and perform some feat of prowess before the Commander of the Faithful, and he will say to thee, ‘Ask a boon of me, O Aslan!’ And do thou make answer, ‘I ask of thee this boon, that thou take my blood-revenge on my father’s murderer.’ If he say, ‘Thy father is yet alive and is the Emir Khálid, the Chief of the Police’; answer thou, ‘My father was Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, and the Emir Khálid hath a claim upon me only as the foster-father who adopted me.’ Then tell him all that passed between thee and Ahmad Kamakim and say, ‘O Prince of True Believers, order him to be searched and I will bring the lanthorn forth from his bosom.’” Thereupon said Aslan to him, “I hear and obey;” and, returning to the Emir Khálid, found him making ready to repair to the Caliph’s court and said to him, “I would fain have thee arm and harness me like thyself and take me with thee to the Divan.” So he equipped him and carried him thither. Then the Caliph sallied forth of Baghdad with his troops and they pitched tents and pavilions without the city; whereupon the host divided into two parties and forming ranks fell to playing Polo, one striking the ball with the mall, and another striking it back to him. Now there was among the troops a spy, who had been hired to slay the Caliph; so he took the ball and smiting it with the bat drove it straight at the Caliph’s face, when behold, Aslan fended it off and catching it drove it back at him who smote it, so that it struck him between the shoulders and he fell to the ground. The Caliph exclaimed, “Allah bless thee, O Aslan!” and they all dismounted and sat on chairs. Then the Caliph bade them bring the smiter of the ball before him and said, “Who tempted thee to do this thing and art thou friend or foe?” Quoth he, “I am thy foe and it was my purpose to kill thee.” Asked the Caliph “And wherefore? Art not a Moslem?” Replied the spy; “No’ I am a Rejecter.’’1 So the Caliph bade them put him to death and said to Aslan, “Ask a boon of me.” Quoth he, “I ask of thee this boon, that thou take my blood-revenge on my father’s murderer.” He said, “Thy father is alive and there he stands on his two feet.” “And who is he?” asked Aslan, and the Caliph answered, “He is the Emir Khálid, Chief of Police.” Rejoined Aslan, “O Commander of the Faithful, he is no father of mine, save by right of fosterage; my father was none other than Ala al-Din Abu al Shamat.” “Then thy father was a traitor,” cried the Caliph. “Allah forbid, O Commander of the Faithful,” rejoined Aslan, “that the ‘Trusty’ should be a traitor! But how did he betray thee?” Quoth the Caliph, “He stole my habit and what was therewith.” Aslan retorted, “O Commander of the Faithful, Allah forfend that my father should be a traitor! But, O my lord, when thy habit was lost and found didst thou likewise recover the lanthorn which was stolen from thee?” Answered the Caliph, “We never got it back,” and Aslan said, “I saw it in the hands of Ahmad Kamakim and begged it of him; but he refused to give it me, saying, ‘Lives have been lost on account of this.’ Then he told me of the sickness of Habzalam Bazazah, son of the Emir Khálid, by reason of his passion for the damsel Jessamine, and how he himself was released from bonds and that it was he who stole the habit and the lamp: so do thou, O Commander of the Faithful, take my blood-revenge for my father on him who murdered him.” At once the Caliph cried, “Seize ye Ahmad Kamakim!” and they seized him, whereupon he asked, “Where be the Captain, Ahmad al-Danaf?” And when he was summoned the Caliph bade him search Kamakim; so he put his hand into the thief’s bosom and pulled out the lanthorn. Said the Caliph, “Come hither, thou traitor: whence hadst thou this lanthorn?” and Kamakim replied, “I bought it, O Commander of the Faithful!” The Caliph rejoined, “Where didst thou buy it?” Then they beat him till he owned that he had stolen the lanthorn, the habit and the rest, and the Caliph said “What moved thee to do this thing O traitor, and ruin Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, the Trusty and Faithful?” Then he bade them lay hands on him and on the Chief of Police, but the Chief said, “O Commander of the Faithful, indeed I am unjustly treated thou badest me hang him, and I had no knowledge of this trick, for the plot was contrived between the old woman and Ahmad Kamakim and my wife. I crave thine intercession,2 O Aslan.” So Aslan interceded for him with the Caliph, who said, “What hath Allah done with this youngster’s mother?” Answered Khálid, “She is with me,” and the Caliph continued, “I command that thou order thy wife to dress her in her own clothes and ornaments and restore her to her former degree, a lady of rank; and do thou remove the seals from Ala al-Din’s house and give his son possession of his estate.” “I hear and obey,” answered Khálid; and, going forth, gave the order to his wife who clad Jessamine in her own apparel; whilst he himself removed the seals from Ala al-Din’s house and gave Aslan the keys. Then said the Caliph, “Ask a boon of me, O Aslan;” and he replied, “I beg of thee the boon to unite me with my father.” Whereat the Caliph wept and said, “Most like thy sire was he that was hanged and is dead; but by the life of my forefathers, whoso bringeth me the glad news that he is yet in the bondage of this life, I will give him all he seeketh!” Then came forward Ahmad al-Danaf and, kissing the ground between his hands, said, “Grant me indemnity, O Commander of the Faithful!” “Thou hast it,” answered the Caliph; and Calamity Ahmad said, “I give thee the good news that Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, the Trusty, the Faithful, is alive and well.” Quoth the Caliph “What is this thou sayest?” Quoth Al–Danaf, “As thy head liveth I say sooth; for I ransomed him with another, of those who deserved death; and carried him to Alexandria, where I opened for him a shop and set him up as a dealer in second hand goods.” Then said the Prince of True Believers — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This was evidently written by a Sunni as the Shí‘ahs claim to be the only true Moslems. Lane tells an opposite story (ii. 329). It suggests the common question in the South of Europe, “Are you a Christian or a Protestant?”
2 Arab. “Ana fí jírat-ak!” a phrase to be remembered as useful in time of danger.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph ordered Calamity Ahmad, saying, “I charge thee fetch him to me;” and the other replied, “To hear is to obey;” whereupon the Caliph bade them give him ten thousand gold pieces and he fared forth for Alexandria. On this wise it happed with Aslan; but as regards his father, Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, he sold in course of time all that was in his shop excepting a few things and amongst them a long bag of leather. And happening to shake the bag there fell out a jewel which filled the palm of the hand, hanging to a chain of gold and having many facets but especially five, whereon were names and talismanic characters, as they were ant-tracks. So he rubbed each face; but none answered him1 and he said to himself, “Doubtless it is a piece of variegated onyx;” and then hung it up in the shop. And behold, a Consul2 passed along the street; and, raising his eyes, saw the jewel hanging up; so he seated himself over against the shop and said to Ala al-Din, “O my lord, is the jewel for sale?” He answered, “All I have is for sale.” Thereupon the Frank said, “Wilt thou sell me that same for eighty thousand dinars?” “Allah open!” replied Ala al-Din. The Frank asked, “Wilt thou sell it for an hundred thousand dinars?”, and he answered, “I sell it to thee for a hundred thousand dinars; pay me down the monies.” Quoth the Consul, “I cannot carry about such sum as its price, for there be robbers and sharpers in Alexandria; but come with me to my ship and I will pay thee the price and give thee to boot a bale of Angora wool, a bale of satin, a bale of velvet and a bale of broadcloth.” So Ala al-Din rose and locked up his shop, after giving the jewel to the Frank, and committed the keys to his neighbour, saying, “Keep these keys in trust for me, whilst I go with this Consul to his ship and return with the price of my jewel. If I be long absent and there come to thee Ahmad al-Danaf, the Captain who stablished me in this shop, give him the keys and tell him where I am.” Then he went with the Consul to his ship and no sooner had he boarded it than the Prank set him a stool and, making him sit down, said to his men, “Bring the money.” So they brought it and he paid him the price of the jewel and gave him the four bales he had promised him and one over; after which he said to him, “O my lord, honour me by accepting a bite or a sup.” And Ala al-Din answered, “If thou have any water, give me to drink.” So the Frank called for sherbets and they brought drink drugged with Bhang, of which no sooner had Ala al-Din drunk, than he fell over on his back; whereupon they stowed away the chairs and shipped the shoving-poles and made sail. Now the wind blew fair for them till it drove them into blue water, and when they were beyond sight of land the Kaptán3 bade bring Ala al-Din up out of the hold and made him smell the counter-drug of Bhang; whereupon he opened his eyes and said, “Where am I?” He replied, “Thou art bound and in my power and if thou hadst said, Allah open! to an hundred thousand dinars for the jewel, I would have bidden thee more.” “What art thou?” asked Ala al-Din, and the other answered, “I am a sea-captain and mean to carry thee to my sweetheart.” Now as they were talking, behold, a strip hove in sight carrying forty Moslem merchants; so the Frank captain attacked the vessel and made fast to it with grappling-irons; then he boarded it with his men and took it and plundered it; after which he sailed on with his prize, till he reached the city of Genoa. There the Kaptan, who was carrying off Ala al-Din, landed and repaired to a palace whose pastern gave upon the sea, and behold, there came down to him a damsel in a chin-veil who said, “Hast thou brought the jewel and the owner?” “I have brought them both,” answered he; and she said, “Then give me the jewel.” So he gave it to her; and, returning to the port, fired his cannon to announce his safe return; whereupon the King of the city, being notified of that Kaptan’s arrival, came down to receive him and asked him, “How hath been this voyage?” He answered, “A right prosperous one, and while voyaging I have made prize of a ship with one-and-forty Moslem merchants.” Said the King, “Land them at the port:” so he landed the merchants in irons and Ala al-Din among the rest; and the King and the Kaptan mounted and made the captives walk before them till they reached the audience-chamber, when the Franks seated themselves and caused the prisoners to pass in parade order, one by one before the King who said to the first, “O Moslem, whence comest thou?” He answered, “From Alexandria;” whereupon the King said, “O headsman, put him to death.” So the sworder smote him with the sword and cut off his head: and thus it fared with the second and the third, till forty were dead and there remained but Ala al-Din, who drank the cup of his comrades’ sighs and agony and said to himself, “Allah have mercy on thee, O Ala al-Din Thou art a dead man.” Then said the King to him, “And thou, what countryman art thou?” He answered, “I am of Alexandria,” and the King said, “O headsman, strike off his head.” So the sworder raised arm and sword, and was about to strike when behold, an old woman of venerable aspect presented herself before the King, who rose to do her honour, and said to him, “O King, did I not bid thee remember, when the Captain came back with captives, to keep one or two for the convent, to serve in the church?” The King replied, “O my mother, would thou hadst come a while earlier! But take this one that is left.” So she turned to Ala al-Din and said to him, “Say, wilt thou serve in the church, or shall I let the King slay thee?” Quoth he, “I will serve in the church.” So she took him and carried him forth of the court and went to the church, where he said to her, “What service must I do?” She replied, “Thou must rise with the dawn and take five mules and go with them to the forest and there cut dry fire-wood and saw it short and bring it to the convent-kitchen. Then must thou take up the carpets and sweep and wipe the stone and marble pavements and lay the carpets down again, as they were; after which thou must take two bushels and a half of wheat and bolt it and grind it and knead it and make it into cracknels4 for the convent; and thou must take also a bushel of lentils5 and sift and crush and cook them. Then must thou fetch water in barrels and fill the four fountains; after which thou must take three hundred and threescore and six wooden bowls and crumble the cracknels therein and pour of the lentil-pottage over each and carry every monk and patriarch his bowl.” Said Ala al-Din,6 “Take me back to the King and let him kill me, it were easier to me than this service.” Replied the old woman, “If thou do truly and rightly the service that is due from thee thou shalt escape death; but, if thou do it not, I will let the King kill thee.” And with these words Ala al-Din was left sitting heavy at heart. Now there were in the church ten blind cripples, and one of them said to him, “Bring me a pot.” So he brought it him and he cacked and eased himself therein and said, “Throw away the ordure.” He did so, and the blind man said, “The Messiah’s blessing be upon thee, O servant of the church!” Presently behold, the old woman came in and said to him, “Why hast thou not done thy service in the church?” Answered he, “How many hands have I, that I should suffice for all this work?” She rejoined, ‘Thou fool, I brought thee not hither except to work;” and she added, “Take, O my son, this rod (which was of copper capped with a cross) and go forth into the highway and, when thou meetest the governor of the city, say to him, ‘I summon thee to the service of the church, in the name of our Lord the Messiah.’ And he will not disobey thee. Then make him take the wheat, sift, grind, bolt, knead, and bake it into cracknels; and if any gainsay thee, beat him and fear none.” “To hear is to obey,” answered he and did as she said, and never ceased pressing great and small into his service; nor did he leave to do thus for the space of seventeen years. Now one day as he sat in church, lo! the old woman came to him and said, “Go forth of the convent.” He asked, “Whither shall I go?” and she answered, “Thou canst pass the night in a tavern or with one of thy comrades.” Quoth he, “Why dost thou send me forth of the church?” and quote she, “The Princess Husn Maryam, daughter of Yohanná,7 King of this city, purposeth to visit the church and it befitteth not that any abide in her way.” So he made a show of obeying her orders and rose up and pretended that he was leaving the church; but he said in his mind, “I wonder whether the Princess is like our women or fairer than they! At any rate I will not go till I have had a look at her.” So he hid himself in a closet with a window looking into the church and, as he watched, behold, in came the King’s daughter. He cast at her one glance of eyes that cost him a thousand sighs, for he found her like the full moon when it cometh swimming out of the clouds; and he saw with her a young lady — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. No Jinni, or Slave of the Jewel, was there to answer.
2 Arab. “Kunsúl” (pron. “Gunsul”) which here means a well-to-do Frank, and shows the modern date of the tale as it stands.
3 From the Ital. “Capitano.” The mention of cannon and other terms in this tale shows that either it was written during the last century or it has been mishandled by copyists.
4 Arab. “Minínah”; a biscuit of flour and clarified butter.
5 Arab. “Waybah”; the sixth part of the Ardabb=6 to 7 English gallons.
6 He speaks in half-jest à la fellah; and reminds us of “Hangman, drive on the cart!”
7 Yochanan (whom Jehovah has blessed) Jewish for John, is probably a copy of the Chaldean Euahanes, the Oannes of Berosus=Ea Khan, Hea the fish. The Greeks made it Joannes; the Arabs “Yohanná” (contracted to “Hanná,” Christian) and “Yábyá” (Moslem). Prester (Priest) John is probably Ung Khan, the historian prince conquered and slain by Janghiz Khan in A.D. 1202. The modern history of “John” is very extensive: there may be a full hundred varieties and derivation’ of the name. “Husn Maryam” the beauty (spiritual. etc.) of the B.V.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ala al-Din looked at the King’s daughter, he saw with her a young lady to whom he heard her say, “Thy company hath cheered me, O Zubaydah.” So he looked straitly at the damsel and found her to be none other than his dead wife, Zubaydah the Lutist. Then the Princess said to Zubaydah, “Come, play us an air on the lute.” But she answered, “I will make no music for thee, till thou grant my wish and keep thy word to me.” Asked the Princess, “And what did I promise thee?”; and Zubaydah answered, “That thou wouldst reunite me with my husband Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, the Trusty, the Faithful.” Rejoined the Princess, “O Zubaydah, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear; play us a piece as a thank-offering and an ear-feast for reunion with thy husband Ala al-Din.” “Where is he?” asked Zubaydah, and Maryam answered, “He is in yonder closet listening to our words.” So Zubaydah played on the lute a melody which had made a rock dance for glee; and when Ala al-Din heard it, his bowels yearned towards her and he came forth from the closet and, throwing himself upon his wife Zubaydah, strained her to his bosom. She also knew him and the twain embraced and fell to the ground in a swoon. Then came forward the Princess Husn Maryam and sprinkled rose water on them, till they revived when she said to them, “Allah hath reunited you.” Replied Ala al-Din, “By thy kind of offices, O lady.” Then, turning to his wife, he said to her, “O Zubaydah, thou didst surely die and we tombed thee in the tomb: how then returnedst thou to life and camest thou to this place?” She answered, “O my lord, I did not die; but an Aun1 of the Jinn snatched me up and dew with me hither. She whom thou buriedst was a Jinniyah, who shaped herself to my shape and feigned herself dead; but when you entombed her she broke open the tomb and came forth from it and returned to the service of this her mistress, the Princess Husn Maryam. As for me I was possessed2 and, when I opened my eyes, I found myself with this Princess thou seest; so I said to her, ‘Why hast thou brought me hither?’ Replied she, ‘I am predestined to marry thy husband, Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat: wilt thou then, O Zubaydah, accept me to co-consort, a night for me and a night for thee?’ Rejoined I, ‘To hear is to obey, O my lady, but where is my husband?’ Quoth she, ‘Upon his forehead is written what Allah hath decreed to him; as soon as the writing which is there writ is fulfilled to him, there is no help for it but he come hither, and we will beguile the time of our separation from him with songs and playing upon instruments of music, till it please Allah to unite us with him.’ So I abode all these days with her till Allah brought us together in this church.” Then Husn Maryam turned to him and said, “O my lord, Ala al-Din, wilt thou be to me baron and I be to thee femme?” Quoth he, “O my lady, I am a Moslem and thou art a Nazarene; so how can I intermarry with thee?” Quoth she, “Allah forbid that I should be an infidel! Nay, I am a Moslemah; for these eighteen years I have held fast the Faith of Al–Islam and I am pure of any creed other than that of the Islamite.” Then said he, “O my lady, I desire a return to my native land;” and she replied, “Know that I see written on thy forehead things which thou must needs accomplish, and then thou shalt win to thy will. Moreover, be fief and fain, O Ala al-Din, that there hath been born to thee a son named Aslan; who now being arrived at age of discretion, sitteth in thy place with the Caliph. Know also that Truth hath prevailed and that Falsehood naught availed; and that the Lord hath withdrawn the curtain of secrecy from him who stole the Caliph’s goods, that is, Ahmad Kamakim the arch-thief and traitor; and he now lieth bound and in jail. And know further ’twas I who sent thee the jewel and had it put in the bag where thou foundest it, and ’twas I who sent the captain that brought thee and the jewel; for thou must know that the man is enamoured of me and seeketh my favours and would possess me; but I refused to yield to his wishes or let him have his will of me; and I said him, ‘Thou shalt never have me till thou bring me the jewel and its owner.’ So I gave him an hundred purses and despatched him to thee, in the habit of a merchant, whereas he is a captain and a war-man; and when they led thee to thy death after slaying the forty captives, I also sent thee this old woman to save thee from slaughter.” Said he, “Allah requite thee for us with all good! Indeed thou hast done well.” Then Husn Maryam renewed at his hands her profession of Al–Islam; and, when he was assured of the truth of her speech, he said to her, O my lady, tell me what are the virtues of this jewel and whence cometh it?” She answered, “This jewel came from an enchanted hoard, and it hath five virtues which will profit us in time of need. Now my lady grandmother, the mother of my father, was an enchantress and skilled in solving secrets and finding hidden treasures from one of which came the jewel into her hands. And as I grew up and reached the age of fourteen, I read the Evangel and other books and I found the name of Mohammed (whom Allah bless and preserve!) in the four books, namely the Evangel, the Pentateuch, the Psalms and the Koran;3 so I believed in Mohammed and became a Moslemah, being certain and assured that none is worship worth save Allah Almighty, and that to the Lord of all mankind no faith is acceptable save that of Al–Islam. Now when my lady-grandmother fell sick, she gave me this jewel and taught me its five virtues. Moreover, before she died, my father said to her, ‘Take thy tablets of geomancy and throw a figure, and tell us the issue of my affair and what will befal-me.’ And she foretold him that the far off one4 should die, slain by the hand of a captive from Alexandria. So he swore to kill every prisoner from that place and told the Kaptan of this, saying, ‘There is no help for it but thou fall on the ships of the Moslems and seize them and whomsoever thou findest of Alexandria, kill him or bring him to me.’ The Captain did his bidding until he had slain as many in number as the hairs of his head. Then my grandmother died and I took a geomantic tablet, being minded and determined to know the future, and I said to myself, ‘Let me see who will wed me!’ Whereupon I threw a figure and found that none should be my husband save one called Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, the Trusty, the Faithful. At this I marvelled and waited till the times were accomplished and I foregathered with thee.” So Ala al-Din took her to wife and said to her, “I desire to return to my own country.” Quoth she, “If it be so, rise up and come with me.” Then she took him and, hiding him in a closet of her palace, went in to her father, who said to her, “O my daughter, my heart is exceeding heavy this day; sit down and let us make merry with wine, I and thou.” So she sat down with him and he called for a table of wine; and she plied him till he lost his wits, when she drugged a cup with Bhang and he drank it off and fell upon his back. Then she brought Ala al-Din out of the closet and said to him, “Come; verily thine enemy lieth prostrate, for I made him drunk and drugged him; so do thou with him as thou wilt.” Accordingly Ala al-Din went to the King and, finding him lying drugged and helpless, pinioned him fast and manacled and fettered him with chains. Then he gave him the counter-drug and he came to himself — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Primarily being middle-aged; then aid, a patron, servant, etc. Also a tribe of the Jinn usually made synonymous with “Márid,” evil controuls, hostile to men: modern spiritualists would regard them as polluted souls not yet purged of their malignity. The text insinuates that they were at home amongst Christians and in Genoa.
2 Arab. “Sar’a” = epilepsy, falling sickness, of old always confounded with “possession” (by evil spirits) or “obsession.”
3 Again the true old charge of falsifying the so-called “Sacred books.” Here the Koran is called “Furkán.” Sale (sect. iii.) would assimilate this to the Hebr. “Perek” or “Pirka,” denoting a section or portion of Scripture; but Moslems understand it to be the “Book which distinguisheth (faraka, divided) the true from the false.” Thus Caliph Omar was entitled “Fárúk” = the Distinguisher (between right and wrong). Lastly, “Furkán,” meanings as in Syr. and Ethiop. deliverance, revelation, is applied alike to the Pentateuch and Koran.
4 Euphemistic for “thou shalt die.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ala al-Din gave the antidote of Bhang to King Yohanna, father of Husn Maryam, and he came to himself and found Ala al-Din and his daughter sitting on his breast. So he said to her, “O my daughter, dost thou deal thus with me?” She answered “If I be indeed thy daughter, become a Moslem, even as I became a Moslemah, for the truth was shown to me and I attested it; and the false, and I deserted it. I have submitted myself unto Allah, The Lord of the Three Worlds, and am pure of all faiths contrary to that of Al–Islam in this world and in the next world. Wherefore, if thou wilt become a Moslem, well and good; if not, thy death were better than thy life.” Ala al-Din also exhorted him to embrace the True Faith; but he refused and was contumacious; so Ala al-Din drew a dagger and cut his throat from ear to ear.1 Then he wrote a scroll, setting forth what had happened and laid it on the brow of the dead, after which they took what was light of load and weighty of worth and turned from the palace and returned to the church. Here the Princess drew forth the jewel and, placing her hand upon the facet where was figured a couch, rubbed it; and behold, a couch appeared before her and she mounted upon it with Ala al-Din and his wife Zubaydah, the lutist, saying, “I conjure thee by the virtue of the names and talismans and characts engraver on this jewel, rise up with us, O Couch!” And it rose with them into the air and flew, till it came to a Wady wholly bare of growth, when the Princess turned earthwards the facet on which the couch was figured, and it sank with them to the ground. Then she turned up the face where on was fashioned a pavilion and tapping it said, “Let a pavilion be pitched in this valley;” and there appeared a pavilion, wherein they seated themselves. Now this Wady was a desert waste, without grass or water; so she turned a third face of the jewel towards the sky, and said, “By the virtue of the names of Allah, let trees upgrow here and a river flow beside them!” And forthwith trees sprang up and by their side ran a river plashing and dashing. They made the ablution and prayed and drank of the stream; after which the Princess turned up the three other facets till she came to the fourth, whereon was portrayed a table of good, and said, “By the virtue of the names of Allah, let the table be spread!” And behold, there appeared before them a table, spread with all manner of rich meats, and they ate and drank and made merry and were full of joy. Such was their case; but as regards Husn Maryam’s father, his son went in to waken him and found him slain; and, seeing Ala al-Din’s scroll, took it and read it, and readily understood it. Then he sought his sister and finding her not, betook himself to the old woman in the church, of whom he enquired for her, but she said, “Since yesterday I have not seen her.” So he returned to the troops and cried out, saying, “To horse, ye horsemen!” Then he told them what had happened, so they mounted and rode after the fugitives, till they drew near the pavilion. Presently Husn Maryam arose and looked up and saw a cloud of dust which spread till it walled the view, then it lifted and flew, and lo! stood disclosed her brother and his troops, crying aloud, “Whither will ye fly, and we on your track!” Then said she to Ala al-Din, “Are thy feet firm in fight?” He replied, “Even as the stake in bran, I know not war nor battle, nor swords nor spears.” So she pulled out the jewel and rubbed the fifth face, that on which were graven a horse and his rider, and behold, straightway a cavalier appeared out of the desert and ceased not to do battle with the pursuing host and smite them with the sword, till he routed them and put them to flight. Then the Princess asked Ala al-Din, “Wilt thou go to Cairo or to Alexandria?”; and he answered, “To Alexandria.” So they mounted the couch and she pronounced over it the conjuration, whereupon it set off with them and, in the twinkling of an eye, brought them to Alexandria. They alighted without the city and Ala al-Din hid the women in a cavern, whilst he went into Alexandria and fetched them outer clothing, wherewith he covered them. Then he carried them to his shop and, leaving them in the “ben”2 walked forth to fetch them the morning-meal, and behold he met Calamity Ahmad who chanced to be coming from Baghdad. He saw him in the street and received him with open arms, saluting him and welcoming him. Whereupon Ahmad al-Danaf gave him the good news of his son Aslan and how he was now come to the age of twenty: and Ala al-Din, in his turn, told the Captain of the Guard all that had befallen him from first to last, whereat he marvelled with exceeding marvel. Then he brought him to his shop and sitting room where they passed the night; and next day he sold his place of business and laid its price with other monies. Now Ahmad al-Danaf had told him that the Caliph sought him; but he said, “I am bound first for Cairo, to salute my father and mother and the people of my house.” So they all mounted the couch and it carried them to Cairo the God-guarded; and here they alighted in the street called Yellow,3 where stood the house of Shams al-Din. Then Ala al-Din knocked at the door, and his mother said, “Who is at the door, now that we have lost our beloved for evermore?” He replied, “ ’Tis I! Ala al-Din!” whereupon they came down and embraced him. Then he sent his wives and baggage into the house and entering himself with Ahmad al-Danaf, rested there three days, after which he was minded to set out for Baghdad. His father said, “Abide with me, O my son;” but he answered; “I cannot bear to be parted from my child Aslan.” So he took his father and mother and fared forth for Baghdad. Now when they came thither, Ahmad al-Danaf went in to the Caliph and gave him the glad tidings of Ala al-Din’s arrival — and told him his story whereupon the King went forth to greet him taking the youth Aslan, and they met and embraced each other. Then the Commander of the Faithful summoned the arch-thief Ahmad Kamakim and said to Ala al-Din, “Up and at thy foe!” So he drew his sword and smote off Ahmad Kamakim’s head. Then the Caliph held festival for Ala al-Din and, summoning the Kazis and witnesses, wrote the contract and married him to the Princess Husn Maryam; and he went in unto her and found her an unpierced pearl. Moreover, the Caliph made Aslan Chief of the Sixty and bestowed upon him and his father sumptuous dresses of honour; and they abode in the enjoyment of all joys and joyance of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies. But the tales of generous men are manifold and amongst them is the story of
It is told of Hátim of the tribe of Tayy,1 that when he died, they buried him on the top of a mountain and set over his grave two troughs hewn out of two rocks and stone girls with dishevelled hair. At the foot of the hill was a stream of running water, and when wayfarers camped there, they heard loud crying and keening in the night, from dark till daybreak; but when they arose in the morning, they found nothing but the girls carved in stone. Now when Zú ‘l-Kurá‘a,2 King of Himyar, going forth of his tribe, came to that valley, he halted to pass the night there — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A noble tribe of Badawin that migrated from Al–Yaman and settled in Al–Najd Their Chief, who died a few years before Mohammed’s birth, was Al–Hatim (the “black crow”), a model of Arab manliness and munificence; and although born in the Ignorance he will enter Heaven with the Moslems. Hatim was buried on the hill called Owárid: I have already noted this favourite practice of the wilder Arabs and the affecting idea that the Dead may still look upon his kith and kin. There is not an Arab book nor, indeed, a book upon Arabia which does not contain the name of Hatim: he is mentioned as unpleasantly often as Aristides.
2 Lord of “Cattle-feet,” this King’s name is unknown; but the Kámús mentions two Kings called Zu ‘l Kalá‘a, the Greater and the Less. Lane’s Shaykh (ii. 333) opined that the man who demanded Hatim’s hospitality was one Abu’l-Khaybari.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zu ‘l-Kura’a passed by the valley he righted there, and, when he drew near the mountain, he heard the keening and said, “What lamenting is that on yonder hill?” They answered him, saying, “Verily this be the tomb of Hatim al-Táyy, over which are two troughs of stone and stone figures of girls with dishevelled hair; and all who camp in this place by night hear this crying and keening.” So he said jestingly, “O Hatim of Tayy! we are thy guests this night, and we are lank with hunger.” Then sleep overcame him, but presently he awoke in affright and cried out, saying, “Help, O Arabs! Look to my beast!” So they came to him, and finding his she-camel struggling and struck down, they stabbed her in the throat and roasted her flesh and ate. Then they asked him what had happened and he said, “When I closed my eyes, I saw in my sleep Hatim of Tayy who came to me sword in hand and cried, ‘Thou comest to us and we have nothing by us.’ Then he smote my she-camel with his sword, and she had surely died even though ye had not come to her and slaughtered her.”1 Now when morning dawned the King mounted the beast of one of his companions and, taking the owner up behind him, set out and fared on till midday, when they saw a man coming towards them, mounted on a camel and leading another, and said to him, “Who art thou?” He answered, “I am Adi,2 son of Hatim of Tayy; where is Zu ‘l-Kura’a, Emir of Himyar?” Replied they, “This is he;” and he said to the prince, “Take this she-camel in place of thy beast which my father slaughtered for thee.” Asked Zu ‘l Kura’a, “Who told thee of this?” and Adi answered, “My father appeared to me in a dream last night and said to me, ‘Harkye, Adi; Zu ‘l Kura’a King of Himyar, sought the guest-rite of me and I, having naught to give him, slaughtered his she-camel, that he might eat: so do thou carry him a she-camel to ride, for I have nothing.’” And Zu ‘l-Kura’a took her, marvelling at the generosity of Hatim of Tayy alive and dead. And amongst instances of generosity is the
1 The camel’s throat, I repeat, is not cut as in the case of other animals, the muscles being too strong: it is slaughtered by the “nahr,” i.e. thrusting a knife into the hollow at the commissure of the chest. (Pilgrimage iii. 303.)
2 Adi became a Moslem and was one of the companions of the Prophet.
It is told of Ma’an bin Záidah that, being out one day a-chasing and a-hunting, he became athirst but his men had no water with them; and while thus suffering behold, three damsels met him bearing three skins of water; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A rival-in generosity to Hatim: a Persian poet praising his patron’s generosity says that it buried that of Hatim and dimmed that of Ma’an (D’Herbelot). He was a high official-under the last Ommiade, Marwán al-Himár (the “Ass,” or the “Century,” the duration of Ommiade rule) who was routed and slain in A.H. 132=750. Ma’an continued to serve under the Abbasides and was a favourite with Al–Mansúr. “More generous or bountiful than Ka’ab” is another saying (A. P., i. 325); Ka’ab ibn Mámah was a man who, somewhat like Sir Philip Sidney at Zutphen, gave his own portion of drink while he was dying of thirst to a man who looked wistfully at him, whence the saying “Give drink to thy brother the Námiri” (A. P., i. 608). Ka’ab could not mount, so they put garments over him to scare away the wild beasts and left him in the desert to die. “Scatterer of blessings” (Náshir al-Ni’am) was a title of King Malik of Al–Yaman, son of Sharhabíl, eminent for his liberality. He set up the statue in the Western Desert, inscribed “Nothing behind me,” as a warner to others.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that three girls met him bearing three skins of water; so he begged drink of them, and they gave him to drink. Then he sought of his men somewhat to give the damsels but they had no money; so he presented to each girl ten golden piled arrows from his quiver. Whereupon quoth one of them to her friend, “Well-a-day! These fashions pertain to none but Ma’an bin Zaidah! so let each one of us say somewhat of verse in his praise.” Then quoth the first,
“He heads his arrows with piles of gold,
And while shooting his foes is his bounty doled:
Affording the wounded a means of cure,
And a sheet for the bider beneath the mould!”
And quoth the second,
“A warrior showing such open hand,
His boons all friends and all foes enfold:
The piles of his arrows of or are made,
So that battle his bounty may not withhold!”
And quoth the third,
“From that liberal-hand on his foes he rains
Shafts aureate-headed and manifold:
Wherewith the hurt shall chirurgeon pay,
And for slain the shrouds round their corpses roll’d.”2
And there is also told a tale of
1 Lane (ii. 352) here introduces, between Nights cclxxi. and ccxc., a tale entitled in the Bresl. Edit. (iv. 134) “The Sleeper and the Waker,” i.e. the sleeper awakened; and he calls it: The Story of Abu-l-Hasan the Wag. It is interesting and founded upon historical-fact; but it can hardly be introduced here without breaking the sequence of The Nights. I regret this the more as Mr. Alexander J. Cotheal-of New York has most obligingly sent me an addition to the Breslau text (iv. 137) from his Ms. But I hope eventually to make use of it.
2 The first girl calls gold “Titer” (pure, unalloyed metal); the second “Asjad” (gold generally) and the third “Ibríz” (virgin ore, the Greek {Greek letters}. This is a law of Arab rhetoric never to repeat the word except for a purpose and, as the language can produce 1,200,000 (to 100,000 in English) the copiousness is somewhat painful to readers.
Now Ma’an bin Záidah went forth one day to the chase with his company, and they came upon a herd of gazelles; so they separated in pursuit and Ma’an was left alone to chase one of them. When he had made prize of it he alighted and slaughtered it; and as he was thus engaged, he espied a person1 coming forth out of the desert on an ass. So he remounted and riding up to the new-comer, saluted him and asked him, “Whence comest thou?” Quoth he, “I come from the land of Kuzá‘ah, where we have had a two years’ dearth; but this year it was a season of plenty and I sowed early cucumbers.2 They came up before their time, so I gathered what seemed the best of them and set out to carry them to the Emir Ma’an bin Zaidah, because of his well-known beneficence and notorious munificence.” Asked Ma’an, “How much dost thou hope to get of him?”; and the Badawi answered, “A thousand dinars.” Quoth the Emir, “What if he say this is too much?” Said the Badawi, “Then I will ask five hundred dinars.” “And if he say, too much?” “Then three hundred!” “And if he say yet, too much?” “Then two hundred!” “And if he say yet, too much?” “Then one hundred!” “And if he say yet, too much?” “Then, fifty!” “And if he say yet, too much?” “Then thirty!” “And if he say still, too much?” asked Ma’an bin Zaidah. Answered the Badawi, “I will make my ass set his four feet in his Honour’s home3 and return to my people, disappointed and empty-handed.” So Ma’an laughed at him and urged his steed till he came up with his suite and returned to his place, when he said to his chamberlain, “An there come to thee a man with cucumbers and riding on an ass admit him to me.” Presently up came the Badawi and was admitted to Ma’an’s presence; but knew not the Emir for the man he had met in the desert, by reason of the gravity and majesty of his semblance and the multitude of his eunuchs and attendants, for he was seated on his chair of state with his officers ranged in lines before him and on either side. So he saluted him and Ma’an said to him “What bringeth thee, O brother of the Arabs?” Answered the Badawi, “I hoped in the Emir, and have brought him curly cucumbers out of season.” Asked Ma’an, “And how much dost thou expect of us?” “A thousand dinars,” answered the Badawi. “This is far too much,” quoth Ma’an. Quoth he, “Five hundred.” “Too much!” “Then three hundred.” “Too much!” “Two hundred.” “Too much!” “One hundred.” “Too much!” “Fifty.” “Too much!” At last the Badawi came down to thirty dinars; but Ma’an still replied, “Too much!” So the Badawi cried, “By Allah, the man who met me in the desert brought me bad luck! But I will not go lower than thirty dinars.” The Emir laughed and said nothing; whereupon the wild Arab knew that it was he whom he had met and said, “O my lord, except thou bring the thirty dinars, see ye, there is the ass tied ready at the door and here sits Ma’an, his honour, at home.” So Ma’an laughed, till he fell on his back; and, calling his steward, said to him, “Give him a thousand dinars and five hundred and three hundred and two hundred and one hundred and fifty and thirty; and leave the ass tied up where he is.” So the Arab to his amazement, received two thousand one hundred and eighty dinars, and Allah have mercy on them both and on all generous men! And I have also heard, O auspicious King, a tale of
1 Arab. “Shakes” before noticed.
2 Arab. “Kussá’á”=the curling cucumber: the vegetable is of the cheapest and the poorer classes eat it as “kitchen” with bread.
3 Arab. “Haram-hu,” a double entendre. Here the Barlawi means his Harem the inviolate part of the house; but afterwards he makes it mean the presence of His Honour.
There was once a royal-city in the land of Roum, called the City of Labtayt wherein stood a tower which was always shut. And whenever a King died and another King of the Greeks took the Kingship after him, he set on the tower a new and strong lock, till there were four-and-twenty locks upon the gate, according to the number of the Kings. After this time, there came to the throne a man who was not of the old royal-house, and he had a mind to open these locks, that he might see what was within the tower. The grandees of his kingdom forbade him this and pressed him to desist and reproved him and blamed him; but he persisted saying, “Needs must this place be opened.” Then they offered him all that their hands possessed of monies and treasures and things of price, if he would but refrain; still he would not be baulked — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Toledo? this tale was probably known to Washington Irving. The “Land of Roum “ here means simply Frank-land as we are afterwards told that its name was Andalusia the old Vandal-land, a term still applied by Arabs to the whole of the Iberian Peninsula.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the grandees offered that King all their hands possessed of monies and treasures if he would but refrain; still he would not be baulked and said “There is no help for it but I open this tower.” So he pulled off the locks and entering, found within the tower figures of Arabs on their horses and camels, habited in turbands1 hanging down at the ends, with swords in baldrick-belts thrown over their shoulders and bearing long lances in their hands. He found there also a scroll which he greedily took and read, and these words were written therein, “Whenas this door is opened will conquer this country a raid of the Arabs, after the likeness of the figures here depicted; wherefore beware, and again beware of opening it.” Now this city was in Andalusia; and that very year Tárik ibn Ziyád conquered it, during the Caliphate of Al–Walíd son of Abd al-Malik2 of the sons of Umayyah; and slew this King after the sorriest fashion and sacked the city and made prisoners of the women and boys therein and got great loot. Moreover, he found there immense treasures; amongst the rest more than an hundred and seventy crowns of pearls and jacinths and other gems of price; and he found a saloon, wherein horsemen might throw the spears, full of vessels of gold and silver, such as no description can comprise. Moreover, he found there the table of food for the Prophet of Allah, Solomon, son of David (peace with both of them!), which is extant even now in a city of the Greeks, it is told that it was of grass-green emerald with vessels of gold and platters of jasper. Likewise he found the Psalms written in the old Ionian3 characters on leaves of gold bezel’d with jewels; together with a book setting forth the properties of stones and herbs and minerals, as well as the use of characts and talismans and the canons of the art of alchymy; and he found a third volume which treated of the art of cutting and setting rubies and other precious stones and of the preparation of poisons and theriacks. There found he also a mappa mundi figuring the earth and the seas and the different cities and countries and villages of the world; and he found a vast saloon full of hermetic powder, one drachm of which elixir would turn a thousand drachms of silver into fine gold; likewise a marvellous mirror, great and round, of mixed metals, which had been made for Solomon, son of David (on the twain be peace!) wherein whoso looked might see the counterfeit presentment of the seven climates of the world; and he beheld a chamber full of Brahmini4 jacinths for which no words can suffice. So he despatched all these things to Walid bin Abd al-Malik, and the Arabs spread all over the cities of Andalusia which is one of the finest of lands. This is the end of the story of the City of Labtayt. And a tale is also told of
1 Arab. “Amáim” (plur. of Imámah) the common word for turband which I prefer to write in the old unclipt fashion. We got it through the Port. Turbante and the old French Tolliban from the (now obsolete) Persian term Dolband=a turband or a sash.
2 Sixth Ommiade Caliph, A.D. 705–716, from “Tárik” we have “Gibraltar”=Jabal-al-Tárik.
3 Arab. “Yunán” = Ionia, applied to ancient Greece as “Roum” is to the Græco-Roman Empire.
4 Arab. “Bahramáni;” prob. alluding to the well-known legend of the capture of Somanath (Somnauth) from the Hindus by Mahmud of Ghazni. In the Ajá‘ib al-Hind (before quoted) the Brahmins are called Abrahamah.
The Caliph Hishám bin Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, was hunting one day, when he sighted an antelope and pursued it with his dogs. As he was following the quarry, he saw an Arab youth pasturing sheep and said to him, “Ho boy, up and after yonder antelope, for it escapeth me!” The youth raised his head to him and replied, “O ignorant of what to the deserving is due, thou lookest on me with disdain and speakest to me with contempt; thy speaking is that of a tyrant true and thy doing what an ass would do.” Quoth Hisham, “Woe to thee, dost thou not know me?” Rejoined the youth, “Verily thine unmannerliness hath made thee known to me, in that thou spakest to me, without beginning by the salutation.”1 Repeated the Caliph, “Fie upon thee! I am Hisham bin Abd al-Malik.” “May Allah not favour thy dwelling-place,” replied the Arab, “nor guard thine abiding place! How many are thy words and how few thy generous deeds!” Hardly had he ended speaking, when up came the troop from all sides and surrounded him as the white encircleth the black of the eye, all and each saying, “Peace be with thee, O Commander of the Faithful!” Quoth Hisham, “Cut short this talk and seize me yonder boy.” So they laid hands on him; and when he saw the multitude of Chamberlains and Wazirs and Lords of State, he was in nowise concerned and questioned not of them, but let his chin drop on his breast and looked where his feet fell, till they brought him to the Caliph2 when he stood before him, with head bowed groundwards and saluted him not and spoke him not. So one of the eunuchs said to him, “O dog of the Arabs, what hindereth thy saluting the Commander of the Faithful?” The youth turned to him angrily and replied, “O packsaddle of an ass, it was the length of the way that hindered me from this and the steepness of the steps and the profuseness of my sweat.” Then said Hisham (and indeed he was exceeding wroth), “O boy, verily thy days are come to their latest hour; thy hope is gone from thee and thy life is past out of thee.” He answered, “By Allah, O Hisham, verily an my life-term be prolonged and Fate ordain not its cutting short, thy words irk me not, be they long or short.” Then said the Chief Chamberlain to him, “Doth it befit thy degree, O vilest of the Arabs, to bandy words with the Commander of the Faithful?” He answered promptly, “Mayest thou meet with adversity and may woe and wailing never leave thee! Hast thou not heard the saying of Almighty Allah?, ‘One day, every soul shall come to defend itself.’”3 Hereupon Hisham rose, in great wrath, and said, “O headsman, bring me the head of this lad; for indeed he exceedeth in talk, such as passeth conception.” So the sworder took him and, making him kneel on the carpet of blood, drew his sword above him and said to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, this thy slave is misguided and is on the way to his grave; shall I smite off his head and be quit of his blood?” “Yes,” replied Hisham. He repeated his question and the Caliph again answered in the affirmative. Then he asked leave a third time; and the youth, knowing that, if the Caliph assented yet once more, it would be the signal of his death, laughed till his wisdom-teeth showed; whereupon Hisham’s wrath redoubled and he said to him, “O boy, meseems thou art mad; seest thou not that thou art about to depart the world? Why then dost thou laugh in mockery of thyself?” He replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, if a larger life-term befell me, none can hurt me, great or small; but I have bethought me of some couplets, which do thou hear, for my death cannot escape thee.” Quoth Hisham, “Say on and be brief;” so the Arab repeated these couplets,
“It happed one day a hawk pounced on a bird,
A wildling sparrow driven by destiny;
And held in pounces spake the sparrow thus,
E’en as the hawk rose ready home to hie:—
‘Scant flesh have I to fill the maw of thee
And for thy lordly food poor morsel I.
Then smiled the hawk in flattered vanity
And pride, so set the sparrow free to fly.
At this Hisham smiled and said, “By the truth of my kinship to the Apostle of Allah (whom Allah bless and keep!), had he spoken this speech at first and asked for aught except the Caliphase, verily I would have given it to him. Stuff his mouth with jewels,4 O eunuch and entreat him courteously;” so they did as he bade them and the Arab went his way. And amongst pleasant tales is that of
1 i.e. “Peace be with thee!”
2 i.e. in the palace when the hunt was over. The bluntness and plain-speaking of the Badawi, which caused the revelation of the Koranic chapter “Inner Apartments” (No. xlix.) have always been favourite themes with Arab tale-tellers as a contrast with citizen suavity and servility. Moreover the Badawi, besides saying what he thinks, always tells the truth (unless corrupted by commerce with foreigners); and this is a startling contrast with the townsfolk. To ride out of Damascus and have a chat with the Ruwalá is much like being suddenly transferred from amongst the trickiest of Mediterranean people to the bluff society of the Scandinavian North. And the reason why the Turk will never govern the Arab in peace is that the former is always trying to finesse and to succeed by falsehood, when the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth is wanted.
3 Koran. xvi. 112.
4 A common and expressive way of rewarding the tongue which “spoke poetry.” The Jewels are often pearls.
They relate that Ibrahím, son of al-Mahdí,1 brother of Harun al-Rashid, when the Caliphate devolved to Al–Maamun, the son of his brother Harun, refused to acknowledge his nephew and betook himself to Rayy2; where he claimed the throne and abode thus a year and eleven months and twelve days. Meanwhile his nephew, Al–Maamun, awaited his return to allegiance and his accepting a dependent position till, at last, despairing of this, he mounted with his horsemen and footmen and repaired to Rayy in quest of him. Now when the news came to Ibrahim, he found nothing for it but to flee to Baghdad and hide there, fearing for his life; and Maamun set a price of a hundred thousand gold pieces upon his head, to be paid to whoso might betray him. (Quoth Ibrahim) “When I heard of this price I feared for my head”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Ibrahim Abu Ishák bin al-Mahdi, a pretender to the Caliphate of well known wit and a famed musician surnamed from his corpulence “Al–Tannín”=the Dragon or, according to others (Lane ii. 336), “Al–Tin”= the fig. His adventurous history will be found in Ibn Khallikan D’Herbelot and Al–Siyuti.
2 The Ragha of the Zendavesta, and Rages of the Apocrypha (Tobit, Judith, etc.), the old capital-of Media Proper, and seat of government of Daylam, now a ruin some miles south of Teheran which was built out of its remains. Rayy was founded by Hoshang the primeval-king who first sawed wood, made doors and dug metal. It is called Rayy al-Mahdiyyah because Al–Mahdi held his court there. Harun al-Rashid was also born in it (A.H. 145). It is mentioned by a host of authors and names one of the Makamat of Al–Hariri.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ibrahim continued, “Now when I heard of this price I feared for my head and knew not what to do: so I went forth of my house in disguise at mid-day, knowing not whither I should go. Presently I entered a broad street which was no thoroughfare and said in my mind, ‘Verily, we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning! I have exposed my life to destruction. If I retrace my steps, I shall arouse suspicion.’ Then, being still in disguise I espied, at the upper end of the street, a negro-slave standing at his door; so I went up to him and said to him, ‘Hast thou a place where I may abide for an hour of the day?’ ‘Yes,’ answered he, and opening the door admitted me into a decent house, furnished with carpets and mats and cushions of leather. Then he shut the door on me and went away; and I misdoubted me he had heard of the reward offered for me, and said to myself, ‘He hath gone to inform against me.’ But, as I sat pondering my case and boiling like cauldron over fire, behold, my host came back, accompanied by a porter loaded with bread and meat and new cooking-pots and gear and a new jar and new gugglets and other needfuls. He made the porter set them down and, dismissing him, said to me, ‘I offer my life for thy ransom! I am a barber-surgeon, and I know it would disgust thee to eat with me’ because of the way in which I get my livelihood;1 so do thou shift for thyself and do what thou please with these things whereon no hand hath fallen.’ (Quoth Ibrahim), Now I was in sore need of food so I cooked me a pot of meat whose like I remember not ever to have eaten; and, when I had satisfied my want, he said to me, ‘O my lord, Allah make me thy ransom! Art thou for wine?; for indeed it gladdeneth the soul and doeth away care.’ ‘I have no dislike to it,’ replied I, being desirous of the barber’s company; so he brought me new flagons of glass which no hand had touched and a jar of excellent wine, and said to me, ‘Strain for thyself, to thy liking;’ whereupon I cleared the wine and mixed me a most delectable draught. Then he brought me a new cup and fruits and flowers in new vessels of earthenware; after which he said to me, ‘Wilt thou give me leave to sit apart and drink of my own wine by myself, of my joy in thee and for thee?’ ‘Do so,’ answered I. So I drank and he drank till the wine began to take effect upon us, when the barber rose and, going to a closet, took out a lute of polished wood and said to me, ‘O my lord, it is not for the like of me to ask the like of thee to sing, but it behoveth thine exceeding generosity to render my respect its due; so, if thou see fit to honour thy slave, thine is the high decision.’ Quoth I (and indeed I thought not that he knew me), ‘How knowest thou that I excel in song?’ He replied, ‘Glory be to Allah, our lord is too well renowned for that! Thou art my lord Ibrahim, son of Al–Mahdi, our Caliph of yesterday, he on whose head Al–Maamun hath set a price of an hundred thousand dinars to be paid to thy betrayer: but thou art in safety with me.’ (Quoth Ibrahim), When I heard him say this, he was magnified in my eyes and his loyalty and noble nature were certified to me; so I complied with his wish and took the lute and tuned it, and sang. Then I bethought me of my severance from my children and my family and I began to say,
‘Belike Who Yúsuf to his kin restored
And honoured him in goal, a captive wight,
May grant our prayer to reunite our lots,
For Allah, Lord of Worlds, hath all of might.’
When the barber heard this, exceeding joy took possession of him. and he was of great good cheer; for it is said that when Ibrahim’s neighbours heard him only sing out, ‘Ho, boy, saddle the mule!’ they were filled with delight. Then, being overborne by mirth, he said to me, ‘O my lord, wilt thou give me leave to say what is come to my mind, albeit I am not of the folk of this craft?’ I answered, ‘Do so; this is of thy great courtesy and kindness.’ So he took the lute and sang these verses,
‘To our beloveds we moaned our length of night;
Quoth they,
‘How short the nights that us benight!’
’Tis for that sleep like hood enveils their eyes
Right soon, but from our eyes is fair of flight:
When night-falls, dread and drear to those who love,
We mourn; they joy to see departing light:
Had they but dree’d the weird, the bitter dole
We dree, their beds like ours had bred them blight.’
(Quoth Ibrahim), So I said to him, ‘By Allah, thou hast shown me a kindness, O my friend, and hast done away from me the pangs of sorrow. Let me hear more trifles of thy fashion.’ So he sang these couplets,
‘When man keeps honour bright without a stain,
Pair sits whatever robe to robe he’s fain!
She jeered at me because so few we are;
Quoth I:—‘There’s ever dearth of noble men!’
Naught irks us we are few, while neighbour tribes
Count many; neighbours oft are base-born strain:
We are a clan which holds not Death reproach,
Which A’mir and
Samúl2 hold illest bane:
Leads us our love of death to fated end;
They hate that ending and delay would gain:
We to our neighbours’ speech aye give the lie,
But when we speak none dare give lie again.’
(Quoth Ibrahim), When I heard these lines, I was filled with huge delight and marvelled with exceeding marvel. Then I slept and awoke not till past night-fall, when I washed my face, with a mind full of the high worth of this barber-surgeon and his passing courtesy; after which I wakened him and, taking out a purse I had by me containing a number of gold pieces, threw it to him, saying, ‘I commend thee to Allah, for I am about to go forth from thee, and pray thee to expend what is in this purse on thine requirements; and thou shalt have an abounding reward of me, when I am quit of my fear.’ (Quoth Ibrahim), But he resumed the bag to me, saying, ‘O my lord, paupers like myself are of no value in thine eyes; but how, with due respect to my own generosity, can I take a price for the boon which fortune hath vouchsafed me of thy favour and thy visit to my poor abode? Nay, if thou repeat thy words and throw the purse to me again I will slay myself.’ So I put in my sleeve3 the purse whose weight was irksome to me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Human blood being especially impure.
2 Jones, Brown and Robinson.
3 Arab. “Kumm,” the Moslem sleeve is mostly (like his trousers) of ample dimensions and easily converted into a kind of carpet-bag by depositing small articles in the middle and gathering up the edge in the hand. In this way carried the weight would be less irksome than hanging to the waist. The English of Queen Anne’s day had regular sleeve-pockets for memoranda, etc., hence the saying, to have in one’s sleeve.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ibrahim son of Al–Mahdi continued, “So I put in my sleeve the purse whose weight was irksome to me; and turned to depart, but when I came to the house door he said, ‘O my lord, of a truth this is a safer hiding-place for thee than any other, and thy keep is no burden to me; so do thou abide with me, till Allah be pleased grant thee relief.’ Accordingly, I turned back, saying, ‘On condition that thou spend of the money in this purse.’ He made me think that he consented to this arrangement, and I abode with him some days in the utmost comfort; but, perceiving that he spent none of the contents of the purse, I revolted at the idea of abiding at his charge and thought it shame to be a burthen on him; so I left the house disguised in women’s apparel, donning short yellow walking-boots1 and veil. Now as soon as I found myself in the street, I was seized with excessive fear, and going to pass the bridge behold, I came to a place sprinkled with water,2 where a trooper, who been in my service, looked at me and knowing me, cried out, saying, ‘This is he whom Al–Maamun wanteth.’ Then he laid hold of me but the love of sweet life lent me strength and I gave him and his horse a push which threw them down in that slippery place, so that he became an example to those who will take example; and the folk hastened to him. Meanwhile, I hurried my pace over the bridge and entered a main street, where I saw the door of a house open and a woman standing upon the threshold. So I said to her, ‘O my lady, have pity on me and save my life; for I am a man in fear.’ Quoth she, ‘Enter and welcome;’ and carried me into an upper dining-room, where she spread me a bed and brought me food, saying ‘Calm thy fear, for not a soul shall know of thee.’ As she spoke lo! there came a loud knocking at the door; so she went and opened, and suddenly, my friend, whom I had thrown down on the bridge, appeared with his head bound up, the blood running down upon his clothes and without his horse. She asked, ‘O so and so, what accident hath befallen thee?’; and he answered, ‘I made prize of the young man whom the Caliph seeketh and he escaped from me;’ whereupon he told her the whole story. So she brought out tinder3 and, putting it into a piece of rag bandaged his head; after which she spread him a bed and he lay sick. Then she came up to me and said, ‘Methinks thou art the man in question?’ ‘Even so,’ answered I, and she said, ‘Fear not: no harm shall befall thee,’ and redoubled in kindness to me. So I tarried with her three days, at the end of which time she said to me, ‘I am in fear for thee, lest yonder man happen upon thee and betray thee to what thou dreadest; so save thyself by flight.’ I besought her to let me stay till nightfall, and she said, ‘There is no harm in that.’ So, when the night came, I put on my woman’s gear and betook me to the house of a freed-woman who had once been our slave. When she saw me she wept and made a show of affliction and praised Almighty Allah for my safety. Then she went forth, as if she would go to market intent on hospitable thoughts, and I fancied all was right; but, ere long, suddenly I espied Ibrahim al-Mosili4 for the house amongst his troopers and servants, and led by a woman on foot; and looking narrowly at her behold, she was the freed-woman, the mistress of the house, wherein I had taken refuge. So she delivered me into their hands, and I saw death face to face. They carried me, in my woman’s attire, to Al–Maamun who called a general-council and had me brought before him. When I entered I saluted him by the title of Caliph, saying, ‘Peace be on thee, O Commander of the Faithful!’ and he replied, ‘Allah give thee neither peace nor long life.’ I rejoined, ‘According to thy good pleasure, O Commander of the Faithful!; it is for the claimant of blood-revenge5 to decree punishment or pardon; but mercy is nigher to piety; and Allah hath set thy pardon above all other pardon, even as He made my sin to excel all other sin. So, if thou punish, it is of thine equity, and if thou pardon, it is of thy bounty.’ And I repeated these couplets,
‘My sin to thee is great,
But greater thy degree: So take revenge, or else
Remit in clemency: An I in deeds have not
Been generous, generous be!
(Quoth Ibrahim), At this Al–Maamun raised his head to me and I hastened to add these two couplets,
‘I’ve sinned enormous sin,
But pardon in thee lies:
If pardon thou, ’tis grace;
Justice an thou chastise!’
Then Al–Maamun bowed his head and repeated,
‘I am (when friend would raise a rage that mote
Make spittle choke me, sticking in my throat)
His pardoner, and pardon his offense,
Fearing lest I should live a friend without.’
(Quoth Ibrahim), Now when I heard these words I scented mercy, knowing his disposition to clemency.6 Then he turned to his son Al Abbas and his brother Abu Ishak and all his chief officers there present and said to them, ‘What deem ye of his case?’ They all counselled him to do me dead, but they differed as to the manner of my death. Then said he to his Wazir Ahmad bin al-Khálid, ‘And what sayest thou, O Ahmad?’ He answered, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, an thou slay him, we find the like of thee who hath slain the like of him; but an thou pardon him, we find not the like of thee that hath pardoned the like of him.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Khuff” worn under the “Bábúg” (a corruption of the Persian pá-push=feet-covers, papooshes, slippers). [Lane M. E. chaps. i.]
2 Done in hot weather throughout the city, a dry line for camels being left in mid-street to prevent the awkward beasts slipping. The watering of the Cairo streets of late years has been excessive; they are now lines of mud in summer as well as in winter and the effluvia from the droppings of animals have, combined with other causes, seriously deteriorated the once charming climate. The only place in Lower Egypt, which has preserved the atmosphere of 1850, is Suez.
3 Arab. “Hurák:” burnt rag, serving as tinder for flint and steel, is a common styptic.
4 Of this worthy, something has been said and there will be more in a future page.
5 i.e. the person entitled to exact the blood-wite.
6 Al–Maamum was a man of sense with all his fanaticism One of his sayings is preserved “Odious is contentiousness in Kings, more odious vexation in judges uncomprehending a case; yet more odious is shallowness of doctors in religions and most odious are avarice in the rich, idleness in youth, jesting in age and cowardice in the soldier.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Al Maamun, Prince of the Faithful, heard the words of Ahmad bin al-Khálid, he bowed his head and began repeating,
“My tribe have slain that brother mine, Umaym,
Yet would shoot back what shafts at them I aim:
If I deal-pardon, noble pardon ’tis;
And if I shoot, my bones
’twill only maim.”1
And he also recited,
“Be mild to brother mingling
What is wrong with what is right:
Kindness to him continue
Whether good or graceless wight: Abstain from all reproaching,
An he joy or vex thy sprite: Seest not that what thou lovest
And what hatest go unite? That joys of longer life-tide
Ever fade with hair turned white?
That thorns on branches growing
For the plucks fruit catch thy sight?
Who never hath done evil,
Doing good for sole delight?
When tried the sons of worldliness they mostly work upright.”
Quoth Ibrahim, “Now when I heard these couplets, I withdrew my woman’s veil from my head and cried out, with my loudest voice, ‘Allah is Most Great! By Allah, the Commander of the Faithful pardoneth me!’ Quoth he, ‘No harm shall come to thee, O uncle;’ and I rejoined, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, my sin is too sore for me to excuse it and thy mercy is too much for me to speak thanks for it.’ And I chanted these couplets to a lively motive,
‘Who made all graces all collected He
In Adam’s loins, our
Seventh Imam, for thee,2
Thou hast the hearts of men with reverence filled,
Enguarding all with heart-humility
Rebelled I never by delusion whelmed
For object other than thy clemency;3
And thou hast pardoned me whose like was ne’er
Pardoned before, though no man pled my plea:
Hast pitied little ones like Katá‘s4 young,
And mother’s yearning heart a son to see.’
Quoth Maamun, ‘I say, following our lord Joseph (on whom and on our Prophet be blessing and peace!) let there be no reproach cast on you this day. Allah forgiveth you; for He is the most merciful of those who show mercy.5 Indeed I pardon thee, and restore to thee thy goods and lands, O uncle, and no harm shall befall thee.’ So I offered up devout prayers for him and repeated these couplets,
‘Thou hast restored my wealth sans greed, and ere
So didst, thou deignèdest my blood to spare:
Then if I shed my blood and wealth, to gain
Thy grace, till even shoon from foot I tear,
Twere but repaying what thou lentest me,
And what unloaned no man to blame would care:
Were I ungrateful for thy lavish boons,
Baser than thou’rt beneficent I were!’
Then Al–Maamun showed me honour and favour and said to me, ‘O uncle, Abu Ishak and Al–Abbas counselled me to put thee to death.’ So I answered, ‘And they both counselled thee right, O Commander of the Faithful, but thou hast done after thine own nature and hast put away what I feared with what I hoped.’ Rejoined Al Maamun, ‘O uncle, thou didst extinguish my rancour with the modesty of thine excuse, and I have pardoned thee without making thee drink the bitterness of obligation to intercessors.’ Then he prostrated himself in prayer a long while, after which he raised his head and said to me, ‘O uncle, knowest thou why I prostrated myself?’ Answered I, ‘Haply thou didst this in thanksgiving to Allah, for that He hath given thee the mastery over thine enemy.’ He replied, ‘Such was not my design, but rather to thank Allah for having inspired me to pardon thee and for having cleared my mind towards thee. Now tell me thy tale.’ So I told him all that had befallen me with the barber, the trooper and his wife and with my freed-woman who had betrayed me. So he summoned the freed-woman, who was in her house, expecting the reward to be sent to her, and when she came before him he said to her, ‘What moved thee to deal thus with thy lord?’ Quoth she, ‘Lust of money.’ Asked the Caliph ‘Hast thou a child or a husband?’; and she answered ‘No;’ whereupon he bade them give her an hundred stripes with a whip and imprisoned her for life. Then he sent for the trooper and his wife and the barber-surgeon and asked the soldier what had moved him to do thus. ‘Lust of money,’ quoth he; whereupon quoth the Caliph, ‘It befitteth thee to be a barber-cupper,’6 and committed him to one whom he charged to place him in a barber-cupper’s shop, where he might learn the craft. But he showed honour to the trooper’s wife and lodged her in his palace, saying, ‘This is a woman of sound sense and fit for matters of moment.’ Then said he to the barber-cupper, ‘Verily, thou hast shown worth and generosity which call for extraordinary honour.’ So he commanded the trooper’s house and all that was therein to be given him and bestowed on him a dress of honour and in addition fifteen thousand dinars to be paid annually. And men tell the following tale concerning
1 The second couplet is not in the Mac. Edit. but Lane’s Shaykh has supplied it (ii. 339)
2 Adam’s loins, the “Day of Alast,” and the Imam (who stands before the people in prayer) have been explained. The “Seventh Imam” here is Al–Maamun, the seventh Abbaside the Ommiades being, as usual, ignored.
3 He sinned only for the pleasure of being pardoned, which is poetical-and hardly practical-or probable.
4 The Katá (sand-grouse) always enters into Arab poetry because it is essentially a desert bird, and here the comparison is good because it lays its eggs in the waste far from water which it must drink morning and evening. Its cry is interpreted “man sakat, salam” (silent and safe), but it does not practice that precept, for it is usually betrayed by its piping “ Kata! Kata!” Hence the proverb, “More veracious than the sand-grouse,” and “speak not falsely, for the Kata sayeth sooth,” is Komayt’s saying. It is an emblem of swiftness: when the brigand poet Shanfara boasts, “The ash-coloured Katas can drink only my leavings, after hastening all night to slake their thirst in the morning,” it is a hyperbole boasting of his speed. In Sind it is called the “rock pigeon” and it is not unlike a grey partridge when on the wing.
5 Joseph to his brethren, Koran, xii. 92, when he gives them his “inner garment” to throw over his father’s face.
6 Arab. “Hajjám”=a cupper who scarifies forehead and legs, a bleeder, a (blood-) sucker. The slang use of the term is to thrash, lick, wallop. (Burckhardt. Prov. 34.)
It is related that Abdullah bin Abi Kilábah went forth in quest of a she-camel which had strayed from him; and, as he was wandering in the deserts of Al–Yaman and the district of Sabá,2 behold, he came upon a great city girt by a vast castle around which were palaces and pavilions that rose high into middle air. He made for the place thinking to find there folk of whom he might ask concerning his she-camel; but, when he reached it, he found it desolate, without a living soul in it. So (quoth he) “I alighted and, hobbling my dromedary,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Bresl. Edit. (vii. 171–174) entitles this tale, “Story of Shaddád bin Ad and the City of Iram the Columned;” but it relates chiefly to the building by the King of the First Adites who, being promised a future Paradise by Prophet Húd, impiously said that he would lay out one in this world. It also quotes Ka’ab al-Ahbár as an authority for declaring that the tale is in the “Pentateuch of Moses.” Iram was in al-Yaman near Adan (our Aden) a square of ten parasangs (or leagues each= 18,000 feet) every way, the walls were of red (baked) brick 500 cubits high and 20 broad, with four gates of corresponding grandeur. It contained 300,000 Kasr (palaces) each with a thousand pillars of gold-bound jasper, etc. (whence its title). The whole was finished in five hundred years, and, when Shaddad prepared to enter it, the “Cry of Wrath” from the Angel of Death slew him and all his many. It is mentioned in the Koran (chaps. Ixxxix. 6–7) as “Irem adorned with lofty buildings (or pillars).” But Ibn Khaldun declares that commentators have embroidered the passage; Iram being the name of a powerful clan of the ancient Adites and “imád” being a tent-pole: hence “Iram with the numerous tents or tent-poles.” Al–Bayzawi tells the story of Abdullah ibn Kilabah (D’Herbelot’s Colabah). At Aden I met an Arab who had seen the mysterious city on the borders of Al–Ahkáf, the waste of deep sands, west of Hadramaut; and probably he had, the mirage or sun-reek taking its place. Compare with this tale “The City of Brass” (Night dlxv.).
2 The biblical-“Sheba,” named from the great-grandson of Joctan, whence the Queen (Bilkis) visited Solomon It was destroyed by the Flood of Márib.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah bin Abi Kilabah continued, “I dismounted and hobbling my dromedary, and composing my mind, entered into the city. Now when I came to the castle, I found it had two vast gates (never in the world was seen their like for size height) inlaid with all manner of jewels and jacinths, white and red, yellow and green. Beholding this I marvelled with great marvel and thought the case mighty wondrous; then entering the citadel in a flutter of fear and dazed with surprise and affright, I found it long and wide, about equalling Al–Medinah1 in point of size; and therein were lofty palaces laid out in pavilions all built of gold and silver and inlaid with many-coloured jewels and jacinths and chrysolites and pearls. And the door-leaves in the pavilions were like those of the castle for beauty; and their floors were strewn with great pearls and balls, no smaller than hazel nuts, of musk and ambergris and saffron. Now when I came within the heart of the city and saw therein no created beings of the Sons of Adam I was near swooning and dying for fear. Moreover, I looked down from the great roofs of the pavilion-chambers and their balconies and saw rivers running under them; and in the main streets were fruit-laden trees and tall palms; and the manner of their building was one brick of gold and one of silver. So I said in myself, ‘Doubtless this is the Paradise promised for the world to come.’ Then I loaded me with the jewels of its gravel and the musk of its dust as much as I could carry and returned to my own country, where I told the folk what I had seen. After a time the news reached Mu’áwiyah, son of Abu Sufyán, who was then Caliph in Al–Hijaz; so he wrote to his lieutenant in San’á of Al–Yaman to send for the teller of the story and question him of the truth of the case. Accordingly the lieutenant summoned me and questioned me of my adventure and of all appertaining to it; and I told him what I had seen, whereupon he despatched me to Mu’awiyah, before whom I repeated the story of the strange sights; but he would not credit it. So I brought out to him some of the pearls and balls of musk and ambergris and saffron, in which latter there was still some sweet savour; but the pearls were grown yellow and had lost pearly colour.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The full title of the Holy City is “Madinat al-Nab)” = the City of the Prophet, of old Yasrib (Yathrib) the Iatrippa of the Greeks (Pilgrimage, ii. 119). The reader will remember that there are two “Yasribs:” that of lesser note being near Hujr in the Yamámah province.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah son of Abu Kilabah continued, “But the pearls were grown yellow and had lost pearly colour. Now Mu’awiyah wondered at this and, sending for Ka’ab al-Ahbar1 said to him, ‘O Ka’ab, I have sent for thee to ascertain the truth of a certain matter and hope that thou wilt be able to certify me thereof.’ Asked Ka’ab, ‘What is it, O Commander of the Faithful?’; and Mu’awiyah answered, ‘Wottest thou of any city founded by man which is builded of gold and silver, the pillars whereof are of chrysolite and rubies and its gravel pearls and balls of musk and ambergris and saffron?’ He replied, ‘Yes, O Commander of the Faithful, this is ‘Iram with pillars decked and dight, the like of which was never made in the lands,’2 and the builder was Shaddad son of Ad the Greater.’ Quoth the Caliph, ‘Tell us something of its history,’ and Ka’ab said, ‘Ad the Greater3 had two sons, Shadíd and Shaddád who, when their father died, ruled conjointly in his stead, and there was no King of the Kings of the earth but was subject to them. After awhile Shadid died and his brother Shaddad reigned over the earth alone. Now he was fond of reading in antique books; and, happening upon the description of the world to come and of Paradise, with its pavilions and galleries and trees and fruits and so forth, his soul moved him to build the like thereof in this world, after the fashion aforesaid. Now under his hand were an hundred thousand Kings, each ruling over an hundred thousand chiefs, commanding each an hundred thousand warriors; so he called these all before him and said to them, ‘I find in ancient books and annals a description of Paradise, as it is to be in the next world, and I desire to build me its like in this world. Go ye forth therefore to the goodliest tract on earth and the most spacious and build me there a city of gold and silver, whose gravel shall be chrysolite and rubies and pearls; and for support of its vaults make pillars of jasper. Fill it with palaces, whereon ye shall set galleries and balconies and plant its lanes and thoroughfares with all manner trees bearing yellow-ripe fruits and make rivers to run through it in channels of gold and silver.’ Whereat said one and all, ‘How are we able to do this thing thou hast commanded, and whence shall we get the chrysolites and rubies and pearls whereof thou speakest?’ Quoth he, ‘What! weet ye not that the Kings of the world are subject to me and under my hand and that none therein dare gainsay my word?’ Answered they, ‘Yes, we know that.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “Ka’ab of the Scribes,” a well-known traditionist and religious poet who died (A.H. 32) in the Caliphate of Osman. He was a Jew who islamised; hence his name (Ahbár, plur. of Hibr, a Jewish scribe, doctor of science, etc. Jarrett’s El–Siyuti, p. 123). He must not be confounded with another Ka’ab al-Ahbár the Poet of the (first) Cloak-poem or “Burdah,” a noble Arab who was a distant cousin of Mohammed, and whose tomb at Hums (Emesa) is a place of pious visitation. According to the best authorities (no Christian being allowed to see them) the cloak given to the bard by Mohammed is still preserved together with the Khirkah or Sanjak Sherif (“Holy Coat” or Banner, the national oriflamme) at Stambul in the Upper Seraglio. (Pilgrimage, i. 213.) Many authors repeat this story of Mu’awiyah, the Caliph, and Ka’ab of the Burdah, but it is an evident anachronism, the poet having been dead nine years before the ruler’s accession (A.H. 41).
2 Koran, lxxxix. 6–7.
3 Arab. “Kahramán” from Pers., braves, heroes.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the lieges answered, “Yes, we know that;” whereupon the King rejoined, “Fare ye then to the mines of chrysolites and rubies and pearls and gold and silver and collect their produce and gather together all of value that is in the world and spare no pains and leave naught; and take also for me such of these things as be in men’s hands and let nothing escape you: be diligent and beware of disobedience.” And thereupon he wrote letters to all the Kings of the world and bade them gather together whatso of these things was in their subjects’ hands, and get them to the mines of precious stones and metals, and bring forth all that was therein, even from the abysses of the seas. This they accomplished in the space of 20 years, for the number of rulers then reigning over the earth was three hundred and sixty Kings, and Shaddad presently assembled from all lands and countries architects and engineers and men of art and labourers and handicraftsmen, who dispersed over the world and explored all the wastes and words and tracts and holds. At last they came to an uninhabited spot, a vast and fair open plain clear of sand-hills and mountains, with founts flushing and rivers rushing, and they said, “This is the manner of place the King commanded us to seek and ordered us to find.” So they busied themselves in building the city even as bade them Shaddad, King of the whole earth in its length and breadth; leading the fountains in channels and laying the foundations after the prescribed fashion. Moreover, all the Kings of earth’s several-reigns sent thither jewels and precious stones and pearls large and small and carnelian and refined gold and virgin silver upon camels by land, and in great ships over the waters, and there came to the builders’ hands of all these materials so great a quantity as may neither be told nor counted nor conceived. So they laboured at the work three hundred years; and, when they had brought it to end, they went to King Shaddad and acquainted him therewith. Then said he, “Depart and make thereon an impregnable castle, rising and towering high in air, and build around it a thousand pavilions, each upon a thousand columns of chrysolite and ruby and vaulted with gold, that in each pavilion a Wazir may dwell.” So they returned forthwith and did this in other twenty years; after which they again presented themselves before King Shaddad and informed him of the accomplishment of his will. Then he commanded his Wazirs, who were a thousand in number, and his Chief Officers and such of his troops and others as he put trust in, to prepare for departure and removal to Many-columned Iram, in the suite and at the stirrup of Shaddad, son of Ad, King of the World; and he bade also such as he would of his women and his Harim and of his handmaids and eunuchs make them ready for the journey. They spent twenty years in preparing for departure, at the end of which time Shaddad set out with his host. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shaddad bin Ad fared forth, he and his host, rejoicing in the attainment of his desire till there remained but one day’s journey between him and Iram of the Pillars. Then Allah sent down on him and on the stubborn unbelievers with him a mighty rushing sound from the Heavens of His power, which destroyed them all with its vehement clamour, and neither Shaddad nor any of his company set eyes on the city.1 Moreover, Allah blotted out the road which led to the city, and it stands in its stead unchanged until the Resurrection Day and the Hour of Judgement.” So Mu’awiyah wondered greatly at Ka’ab al-Ahbar’s story and said to him, “Hath any mortal ever made his way to that city?” He replied, “Yes; one of the companions of Mohammed (on whom be blessing and peace!) reached it, doubtless and forsure after the same fashion as this man here seated.” “And (quoth Al–Sha’abi2) it is related, on the authority of learned men of Himyar in Al–Yaman that Shaddad, when destroyed with all his host by the sound, was succeeded in his Kingship by his son Shaddad the Less, whom he left vice-regent in Hazramaut3 and Saba, when he and his marched upon Many-columned Iram. Now as soon as he heard of his father’s death on the road, he caused his body to be brought back from the desert to Hazramaut and bade them hew him out a tomb in a cave, where he laid the body on a throne of gold and threw over the corpse threescore and ten robes of cloth of gold, purfled with precious stones. Lastly at his sire’s head he set up a tablet of gold whereon were graven these verses,
‘Take warning O proud,
And in length o’ life vain!
I’m Shaddád son of Ad,
Of the forts castellain; Lord of pillars and power,
Lord of tried might and main, Whom all earth-sons obeyed
For my mischief and bane And who held East and West
In mine awfullest reign. He preached me salvation
Whom God did assain,4 But we crossed him and asked
‘Can no refuge be ta’en?’
When a Cry on us cried
From th’ horizon plain, And we fell on the field
Like the harvested grain, And the Fixt Day await
We, in earth’s bosom lain!’”
Al–Sa’alibi also relateth, “It chanced that two men once entered this cave and found steps at its upper end; so they descended and came to an underground chamber, an hundred cubits long by forty wide and an hundred high. In the midst stood a throne of gold, whereon lay a man of huge bulk, filling the whole length and breadth of the throne. He was covered with jewels and raiment gold-and-silver wrought, and at his head was a tablet of gold bearing an inscription. So they took the tablet and carried it off, together with as many bars of gold and silver and so forth as they could bear away.” And men also relate the tale of
1 The Deity in the East is as whimsical-a despot as any of his “shadows” or “vice regents.” In the text Shaddád is killed for mere jealousy a base passion utterly unworthy of a godhead; but one to which Allah was greatly addicted.
2 Some traditionist, but whether Sha’abi, Shi’abi or Shu’abi we cannot decide.
3 The Hazarmaveth of Genesis (x. 26) in South Eastern Arabia. Its people are the Adramitae (mod. Hazrami) of Ptolemy who places in their land the Arabiæ Emporium, as Pliny does his Massola. They border upon the Homeritæ or men of Himyar, often mentioned in The Nights. Hazramaut is still practically unknown to us, despite the excursions of many travellers; and the hard nature of the people, the Swiss of Arabia, offers peculiar obstacles to exploration.
4 i.e. the prophet Hud generally identified (?) with Heber. He was commissioned (Koran, chaps. vii.) to preach Al–Islam to his tribe the Adites who worshipped four goddesses, Sákiyah (the rain-giver), Rázikah (food-giver), Háfizah (the saviouress) and Sálimah (who healed sickness). As has been seen he failed, so it was useless to send him.
Quoth Isaac of Mosul,1 “I went out one night from Al Maamun’s presence, on my way to my house; and, being taken with a pressing need to make water, I turned aside into a by-street and stood in the middle fearing lest something might hurt me, if I squatted against a wall.2 Presently, I espied something hanging down from one of the houses; so I felt it to find out what it might be and found that it was a great four-handled basket,3 covered with brocade. Said I to myself, ‘There must be some reason for this,’ and knew not what to think; then drunkenness led me to seat myself in the basket, and behold, the people of the house pulled me up, thinking me to be the person they expected. Now when I came to the top of the wall; lo! four damsels were there, who said to me, ‘Descend and welcome and joy to thee!’ Then one of them went before me with a wax candle and brought me down into a mansion, wherein were furnished sitting-chambers, whose like I had never seen save in the palace of the Caliphate. So I sat down and, after a while, the curtains were suddenly drawn from one side of the room and, behold, in came damsels walking in procession and hending hand lighted flambeaux of wax and censers full of Sumatran aloes-wood, and amongst them a young lady as she were the rising full moon. So I stood up to her and she said, ‘Welcome to thee for a visitor!’ and then she made me sit down again and asked me how I came thither. Quoth I, ‘I was returning home from the house of an intimate friend and went astray in the dark; then, being taken in the street with an urgent call to make water, I turned aside into this lane, where I found a basket let down. The strong wine which I had drunk led me to seat myself in it and it was drawn up with me into this house, and this is my story.’ She rejoined, ‘No harm shall befall thee, and I hope thou wilt have cause to praise the issue of thine adventure.’ Then she added, ‘But what is thy condition?’ I said, ‘A merchant in the Baghdad bazar’ and she, ‘Canst thou repeat any verses?’ ‘Some small matter,’ quoth I. Quoth she ‘Then call a few to mind and let us hear some of them.’ But I said, ‘A visitor is bashful and timid; do thou begin.’ ‘True,’ replied she and recited some verses of the poets, past and present, choosing their choicest pieces; and I listened not knowing whether more to marvel at her beauty and loveliness or at the charm of her style of declamation. Then said she, ‘Is that bashfulness of thine gone?’ and I said, ‘Yes, by Allah!’ so she rejoined, ‘Then, if thou wilt, recite us somewhat.’ So I repeated to her a number of poems by old writers, and she applauded, saying, ‘By Allah, I did not think to find such culture among the trade folk, the sons of the bazar!’ Then she called for food” Whereupon quoth Shahrazad’s sister Dunyazad, “How pleasant is this tale and enjoyable and sweet to the ear and sound to the sense!” But she answered, “And what is this story compared with that which thou shalt hear on the morrow’s night, if I be alive and the King deign spare me!” Then Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Son of Ibraham al-Mosili, a musician poet and favourite with the Caliphs Harun al-Rashid and Al–Maamun. He made his name immortal-by being the first who reduced Arab harmony to systematic rules, and he wrote a biography of musicians referred to by Al–Hariri in the Séance of Singar.
2 This must not be confounded with the “pissing against the wall” of I Kings, xiv. 10, where watering against a wall denotes a man as opposed to a woman.
3 Arab. “Zambíl” or “Zimbíl,” a limp basket made of plaited palm-leaves and generally two handled. It is used for many purposes, from carrying poultry to carrying earth.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Isaac of Mosul continued, “Then the damsel called for food and, when it was served to her, she fell to eating it and setting it before me; and the sitting room was full of all manner sweet-scented flowers and rare fruits, such as are never found save in Kings’ houses. Presently, she called for wine and drank a cup, after which she filled another and gave it to me, saying, ‘Now is the time for converse and story-telling.’ So I bethought myself and began to say, ‘It hath reached me that such and such things happened and there was a man who said so and so,’ till I had told her a number of pleasing tales and adventures with which she was delighted and cried, ‘’Tis marvellous that a merchant should bear in memory such store of stories like these, for they are fit for Kings.’ Quoth I, ‘I had a neighbour who used to consort with Kings and carouse with them; so, when he was at leisure, I visited his house and he hath often told me what thou hast heard.’ Thereupon she exclaimed ‘By my life, but thou hast a good memory!’ So we continued to converse thus, and as often as I was silent, she would begin, till in this way we passed the most part of the night, whilst the burning aloes-wood diffused its fragrance and I was in such case that if Al–Maamun had suspected it, he would have flown like a bird with longing for it. Then said she to me, ‘Verily, thou art one of the most pleasant of men, polished, passing well-bred and polite; but there lacketh one thing.’ ‘What is that?’ asked I, and she answered, If thou only knew how to sing verses to the lute!’ I answered, ‘I was passionately fond of this art aforetime, but finding I had no taste for it, I abandoned it, though at times my heart yearneth after it. Indeed, I should love to sing somewhat well at this moment and fulfil my night’s enjoyment.’ Then said she, ‘Meseemeth thou hintest a wish for the lute to be brought?’ and I, ‘It is thine to decide, if thou wilt so far favour me, and to thee be the thanks.’ So she called for a lute and sang a song in a voice whose like I never heard, both for sweetness of tone and skill in playing, and perfection of art. Then said she, Knowest thou who composed this air and whose are the words of this song?’“No,” answered I; and she said, The words are so and so’s and the air is Isaac’s.’ I asked ‘And hath Isaac then (may I be thy sacrifice!) such a talent?’ She replied, ‘Bravo!1 Bravo, Isaac! indeed, he excelleth in this art.’ I rejoined, ‘Glory be to Allah who hath given this man what he hath vouchsafed unto none other!’ Then she said ‘And how would it be, an thou heard this song from himself?’ This wise we went on till break of day dawn, when there came to her an old woman, as she were her nurse, and said to her, ‘Verily, the time is come.’ So she rose in haste and said to me, ‘Keep what hath passed between us to thyself; for such meetings are in confidence;’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here we have again the Syriac ‘‘Bakhkh -un-Bakhkh-un-’’=well done! It is the Pers Áferín and means “all praise be to him.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel whispered, “‘Keep what hath passed between us to thyself, for such meetings are in confidence;’ and I replied, ‘May I be thy ransom! I needed no charge to this.’ Then I took leave of her and she sent a handmaid to show me the way and open the house door; so I went forth and returned to my own place, where I prayed the morning prayer and slept. Now after a time there came to me a messenger from Al–Maamun, so I went to him and passed the day in his company. And when the night fell I called to mind my yesternight’s pleasure, a thing from which none but an ignoramus would abstain, and betook myself to the street, where I found the basket, and seating myself therein, was drawn up to the place in which I had passed the previous night. When the lady saw me, she said, ‘Indeed, thou hast been assiduous;’ and I answered, ‘Meseemeth rather that I am neglectful.’ Then we fell to discoursing and passed the night as before in general-conversation and reciting verses and telling rare tales, each in turn, till daybreak, when I wended me home; and I prayed the dawn prayer and slept. Presently there came to me a messenger from Al–Maamun; so I went to him and spent my day with him till nightfall, when the Commander of the Faithful said to me, ‘I conjure thee to sit here, whilst I go out for a want and come back.’ As soon as the Caliph was gone, and quite gone, my thoughts began to tempt and try me and, calling to mind my late delight, I recked little what might befal me from the Prince of True Believers. So I sprang up and turning my back upon the sitting-room, ran to the street aforesaid, where I sat down in the basket and was drawn up as before. When the lady saw me, she said, ‘I begin to think thou art a sincere friend to us.’ Quoth I, ‘Yea, by Allah!’ and quoth she, ‘Hast thou made our house thine abiding-place?’ I replied, ‘May I be thy ransom! A guest claimeth guest right for three days and if I return after this, ye are free to spill my blood.’ Then we passed the night as before; and when the time of departure drew near, I bethought me that Al Maamun would assuredly question me nor would ever be content save with a full explanation: so I said to her, ‘I see thee to be of those who delight in singing. Now I have a cousin, the son of my father’s brother, who is fairer than I in face and higher of rank and better of breeding; and he is the most intimate of Allah’s creatures with Isaac.’ Quoth she, ‘Art thou a parasite1 and an importunate one?’ Quoth I, ‘It is for thee to decide in this matter;’ and she, ‘If thy cousin be as thou hast described him, it would not mislike us to make acquaintance with him.’ Then, as the time was come, I left her and returned to my house, but hardly had I reached it, ere the Caliph’s runners came down on me and carried me before him by main force and roughly enough.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “A Tufayli?” So the Arab. Prov. (ii. 838) “More intrusive than Tufayl” (prob. the P.N. of a notorious sponger). The Badawin call “Wárish” a man who sits down to meat unbidden and to drink Wághil; but townsfolk apply the latter to the “Wárish.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Isaac of Mosul continued, “And hardly had I reached my house ere the Caliph’s runners came down upon me and carried me before him by main force and roughly enough. I found him seated on a chair, wroth with me, and he said to me, ‘O Isaac, art thou a traitor to thine allegiance?’ replied I, ‘No, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful!’ and he rejoined, ‘What hast thou then to say? tell me the whole truth;’ and I, ‘Yes, I will, but in private.’ So he signed to his attendants, who withdrew to a distance, and I told him the case, adding, ‘I promised her to bring thee,’ and he said, ‘Thou didst well.’ Then we spent the day in our usual-pleasures, but Al–Maamun’s heart was taken up with her, and hardly was the appointed time come, when we set out. As we went along, I cautioned him, saying, ‘Look that thou call me not by my name before her; and I will demean myself like thine attendant.’ And having agreed upon this, we fared forth till we came to the place, where we found two baskets hanging ready. So we sat down in them and were drawn up to the usual-place, where the damsel came forward and saluted us. Now when Al Maamun saw her, he was amazed at her beauty and loveliness; and she began to entertain him with stories and verses. Presently, she called for wine and we fell to drinking she paying him special attention and he repaying her in kind. Then she took the lute and sang these verses,
‘My lover came in at the close of night,
I rose till he sat and remained upright;
And said ‘Sweet heart, hast thou come this hour?
Nor feared on the watch and ward to ‘light:’
Quoth he ‘The lover had cause to fear,
But Love deprived him of wits and fright.’
And when she ended her song she said to me, ‘And is thy cousin also a merchant?’ I answered, ‘Yes,’ and she said, ‘Indeed, ye resemble each other nearly.’ But when Al–Maamun had drunk three pints,1 he grew merry with wine and called out, saying, ‘Ho, Isaac!’ And I replied, ‘Labbayk, Adsum, O Commander of the Faithful,’ whereupon quoth he, ‘Sing me this air.’ Now when the young lady learned that he was the Caliph, she withdrew to another place and disappeared; and, as I had made an end of my song, Al–Maamun said to me, ‘See who is the master of this house’, whereupon an old woman hastened to make answer, saying, ‘It belongs to Hasan bin Sahl.’2 ‘Fetch him to me,’ said the Caliph. So she went away and after a while behold, in came Hasan, to whom said Al–Maamun ‘Hast thou a daughter?’ He said, ‘Yes, and her name is Khadijah.’ Asked the Caliph, ‘Is she married?’ Answered Hasan, ‘No, by Allah!’ Said Al–Maamun, Then I ask her of thee in marriage.’ Replied her father, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, she is thy handmaid and at thy commandment.’ Quoth Al–Maamun, ‘I take her to wife at a present settlement of thirty thousand dinars, which thou shalt receive this very morning, and, when the money has been paid thee, do thou bring her to us this night.’ And Hasan answered, ‘I hear and I obey.’ Thereupon we went forth and the Caliph said to me, ‘O Isaac, tell this story to no one.’ So I kept it secret till Al–Maamun’s death. Surely never did man’s life gather such pleasures as were mine these four days’ time, whenas I companied with Al–Maamun by day and Khadijah by night; and, by Allah, never saw I among men the like of Al–Maamun nor among women have I ever set eyes on the like of Khadijah; no, nor on any that came near her in lively wit and pleasant speech! And Allah is All knowing. But amongst stories is that of
1 Arab. “Artál”=rotoli, pounds; and
“A pint is a pound
All the world round;”
except in highly civilised lands where the pint has a curious power of shrinking.
2 One of Al–Maamun’s Wazirs. The Caliph married his daughter whose true name was Búrán; but this tale of girl’s freak and courtship was invented (?) by Ishak. For the splendour of the wedding and the munificence of the Minister see Lane, ii. 350–352.
During the season of the Meccan pilgrimage, whilst the people were making circuit about the Holy House and the place of compassing was crowded, behold, a man laid hold of the covering of the Ka’abah1 and cried out, from the bottom of his heart, saying, ‘I beseech thee, O Allah, that she may once again be wroth with her husband and that I may know her!’ A company of the pilgrims heard him and seized him and carried him to the Emir of the pilgrims, after a sufficiency of blows; and, said they, ‘O Emir, we found this fellow in the Holy Places, saying thus and thus.’ So the Emir commanded to hang him; but he cried, ‘O Emir, I conjure thee, by the virtue of the Apostle (whom Allah bless and preserve!), hear my story and then do with me as thou wilt.’ Quoth the Emir, ‘Tell thy tale forthright.’ ‘Know then, O Emir,’ quoth the man, ‘that I am a sweep who works in the sheep-slaughterhouses and carries off the blood and the offal to the rubbish-heaps outside the gates. And it came to pass as I went along one day with my ass loaded, I saw the people running away and one of them said to me, ‘Enter this alley, lest haply they slay thee.’ Quoth I, ‘What aileth the folk running away?’ and one of the eunuchs, who were passing, said to me, ‘This is the Harim2 of one of the notables and her eunuchs drive the people out of her way and beat them all, without respect to persons.’ So I turned aside with the donkey’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 I have described this scene, the wretch clinging to the curtain and sighing and crying as if his heart would break (Pilgrimage iii. 216 and 220). The same is done at the place Al–Multazam’“the attached to;” (ibid. 156) and various spots called Al–Mustajáb, “where prayer is granted” (ibid. 162). At Jerusalem the Wailing place of the Jews” shows queer scenes; the worshippers embrace the wall with a peculiar wriggle crying out in Hebrew, “O build Thy House, soon, without delay,” etc.
2 i.e. The wife. The scene in the text was common at Cairo twenty years ago; and no one complained of the stick. See Pilgrimage i., 120.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the man, “So I turned aside with the donkey and stood still awaiting the dispersal of the crowd; and I saw a number of eunuchs with staves in their hands, followed by nigh thirty women slaves, and amongst them a lady as she were a willow-wand or a thirsty gazelle, perfect in beauty and grace and amorous languor, and all were attending upon her. Now when she came to the mouth of the passage where I stood, she turned right and left and, calling one of the Castratos, whispered in his ear; and behold, he came up to me and laid hold of me, whilst another eunuch took my ass and made off with it. And when the spectators fled, the first eunuch bound me with a rope and dragged me after him till I knew not what to do; and the people followed us and cried out, saying, ‘This is not allowed of Allah! What hath this poor scavenger done that he should be bound with ropes?’ and praying the eunuchs, ‘Have pity on him and let him go, so Allah have pity on you!’ And I the while said in my mind, ‘Doubtless the eunuchry seized me, because their mistress smelt the stink of the offal and it sickened her. Belike she is with child or ailing; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!’ So I continued walking on behind them, till they stopped at the door of a great house; and, entering before me, brought me into a big hall — I know not how I shall describe its magnificence — furnished with the finest furniture. And the women also entered the hall; and I bound and held by the eunuch and saying to myself, ‘Doubtless they will torture me here till I die and none know of my death.’ However, after a while, they carried me into a neat bath-room leading out of the hall; and as I sat there, behold, in came three slave-girls who seated themselves round me and said to me, ‘Strip off thy rags and tatters.’ So I pulled off my threadbare clothes and one of them fell a-rubbing my legs and feet whilst another scrubbed my head and a third shampooed my body. When they had made an end of washing me, they brought me a parcel of clothes and said to me, ‘Put these on’; and I answered, ‘By Allah, I know not how!’ So they came up to me and dressed me, laughing together at me the while; after which they brought casting-bottles full of rose-water, and sprinkled me therewith. Then I went out with them into another saloon; by Allah, I know not how to praise its splendour for the wealth of paintings and furniture therein; and entering it, I saw a person seated on a couch of Indian rattan”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the sweep continued, “When I entered that saloon I saw a person seated on a couch of Indian rattan, with ivory feet and before her a number of damsels. When she saw me she rose to me and called me; so I went up to her and she seated me by her side. Then she bade her slave-girls bring food, and they brought all manner of rich meats, such as I never saw in all my life; I do not even know the names of the dishes, much less their nature. So I ate my fill and when the dishes had been taken away and we had washed our hands, she called for fruits which came without stay or delay and ordered me eat of them; and when we had ended eating she bade one of the waiting-women bring the wine furniture. So they set on flagons of divers kinds of wine and burned perfumes in all the censers, what while a damsel like the moon rose and served us with wine to the sound of the smitten strings; and I drank, and the lady drank, till we were seized with wine and the whole time I doubted not but that all this was an illusion of sleep. Presently, she signed to one of the damsels to spread us a bed in such a place, which being done, she rose and took me by the hand and led me thither, and lay down and I lay with her till the morning, and as often as I pressed her to my breast I smelt the delicious fragrance of musk and other perfumes that exhaled from her and could not think otherwise but that I was in Paradise or in the vain phantasies of a dream. Now when it was day, she asked me where I lodged and I told her, ‘In such a place;’ whereupon she gave me leave to depart, handing to me a kerchief worked with gold and silver and containing somewhat tied in it, and took leave of me, saying, ‘Go to the bath with this.’ I rejoiced and said to myself, ‘If there be but five coppers here, it will buy me this day my morning meal.’ Then I left her, as though I were leaving Paradise, and returned to my poor crib where I opened the kerchief and found in it fifty miskals of gold. So I buried them in the ground and, buying two farthings’ worth of bread and ‘kitchen,’1 seated me at the door and broke my fast; after which I sat pondering my case and continued so doing till the time of afternoon, prayer, when lo! a slave-girl accosted me saying, ‘My mistress calleth for thee.’ I followed her to the house aforesaid and, after asking permission, she carried me into the lady, before whom I kissed the ground, and she commanded me to sit and called for meat and wine as on the previous day; after which I again lay with her all night. On the morrow, she gave me a second kerchief, with other fifty dinars therein, and I took it and going home, buried this also. In such pleasant condition I continued eight days running, going in to her at the hour of afternoon prayer and leaving her at daybreak; but, on the eighth night, as I lay with her, behold, one of her slave-girls came running in and said to me, ‘Arise, go up into yonder closet.’ So I rose and went into the closet, which was over the gate, and presently I heard a great clamour and tramp of horse; and, looking out of the window which gave on the street in front of the house, I saw a young man as he were the rising moon on the night of fulness come riding up attended by a number of servants and soldiers who were about him on foot. He alighted at the door and entering the saloon found the lady seated on the couch; so he kissed the ground between her hands then came up to her and kissed her hands; but she would not speak to him. However, he continued patiently to humble himself, and soothe her and speak her fair, till he made his peace with her, and they lay together that night.”— And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Udm, Udum” (plur. of Idám) = “relish,” olives, cheese, pickled cucumbers, etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the scavenger continued, “Now when her husband had made his peace with the young lady, he lay with her that night; and next morning, the soldiers came for him and he mounted and rode away; whereupon she drew near to me and said, ‘Sawst thou yonder man?’ I answered, ‘Yes;’ and she said, ‘He is my husband, and I will tell thee what befell me with him. It came to pass one day that we were sitting, he and I, in the garden within the house, and behold, he rose from my side and was absent a long while, till I grew tired of waiting and said to myself: Most like, he is in the privy. So I arose and went to the water-closet, but not finding him there, went down to the kitchen, where I saw a slave-girl; and when I enquired for him, she showed him to me lying with one of the cookmaids. Hereupon, I swore a great oath that I assuredly would do adultery with the foulest and filthiest man in Baghdad; and the day the eunuch laid hands on thee, I had been four days going round about the city in quest of one who should answer to this description, but found none fouler nor filthier than thy good self. So I took thee and there passed between us that which Allah fore ordained to us; and now I am quit of my oath.’ Then she added, ‘If, however, my husband return yet again to the cookmaid and lie with her, I will restore thee to thy lost place in my favours.’ Now when I heard these words from her lips, what while she pierced my heart with the shafts of her glances, my tears streamed forth, till my eyelids were chafed sore with weeping, and I repeated the saying of the poet,
‘Grant me the kiss of that left hand ten times;
And learn it hath than right hand higher grade;1
For ’tis but little since that same left hand
Washed off Sir Reverence when ablution made.’
Then she made them give me other fifty dinars (making in all four hundred gold pieces I had of her) and bade me depart. So I went out from her and came hither, that I might pray Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) to make her husband return to the cookmaid, that haply I might be again admitted to her favours.’ When the Emir of the pilgrims heard the man’s story, he set him free and said to the bystanders, ‘Allah upon you, pray for him, for indeed he is excusable.’” And men also tell the tale of
1 I have noticed how the left hand is used in the East. In the second couplet we have “Istinjá”=washing the fundament after stool. The lines are highly appropriate for a nightman. Easterns have many foul but most emphatic expressions like those in the text I have heard a mother say to her brat, “I would eat thy merde!” (i.e. how I love thee!).
It is related that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, was one night restless with extreme restlessness, so he summoned his Wazir Ja’afar the Barmecide, and said to him, “My breast is straitened and I have a desire to divert myself to-night by walking about the streets of Baghdad and looking into folks’ affairs; but with this precaution that we disguise ourselves in merchants’ gear, so none shall know us.” He answered, “Hearkening and obedience.” They rose at once and doffing the rich raiment they wore, donned merchants’ habits and sallied forth three in number, the Caliph, Ja’afar and Masrur the sworder. Then they walked from place to place, till they came to the Tigris and saw an old man sitting in a boat; so they went up to him and saluting him, said, “O Shaykh, we desire thee of thy kindness and favour to carry us a-pleasuring down the river, in this thy boat, and take this dinar to thy hire.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when they said to the old man, “We desire thee to carry us a-pleasuring in this thy boat and take this dinar;” he answered, “Who may go a-pleasuring on the Tigris? The Caliph Harun al-Rashid every night cometh down Tigris stream in his state-barge1 and with him one crying aloud: ‘Ho, ye people all, great and small, gentle and simple, men and boys, whoso is found in a boat on the Tigris by night, I will strike off his head or hang him to the mast of his craft!’ And ye had well nigh met him; for here cometh his carrack.” But the Caliph and Ja’afar said, “O Shaykh, take these two dinars, and run us under one of yonder arches, that we may hide there till the Caliph’s barge have passed.” The old man replied, “Hand over your gold and rely we on Allah, the Almighty!” So he took the two dinars and embarked them in the boat; and he put off and rowed about with them awhile, when behold, the barge came down the river in mid-stream, with lighted flambeaux and cressets flaming therein. Quoth the old man, “Did not I tell you that the Caliph passed along the river every night?”; and ceased not muttering, “O Protector, remove not the veils of Thy protection!” Then he ran the boat under an arch and threw a piece of black cloth over the Caliph and his companions, who looked out from under the covering and saw, in the bows of the barge, a man holding in hand a cresset of red gold which he fed with Sumatran lign-aloes and the figure was clad in a robe of red satin, with a narrow turband of Mosul shape round on his head, and over one of his shoulders hung a sleeved cloak2 of cramoisy satin, and on the other was a green silk bag full of the aloes-wood, with which he fed the cresset by way of firewood. And they sighted in the stern another man, clad like the first and bearing a like cresset, and in the barge were two hundred white slaves, standing ranged to the right and left; and in the middle a throne of red gold, whereon sat a handsome young man, like the moon, clad in a dress of black, embroidered with yellow gold. Before him they beheld a man, as he were the Wazir Ja’afar, and at his head stood an eunuch, as he were Masrur, with a drawn sword in his hand; besides a score of cup-companions. Now when the Caliph saw this, he turned and said, “O Ja’afar,” and the Minister replied, “At thy service, O Prince of True Believers.” Then quoth the Caliph, “Belike this is one of my sons, Al Amin or Al–Maamun.” Then he examined the young man who sat on the throne and finding him perfect in beauty and loveliness and stature and symmetric grace, said to Ja’afar, “Verily, this young man abateth nor jot nor tittle of the state of the Caliphate! See, there standeth before him one as he were thyself, O Ja’afar; yonder eunuch who standeth at his head is as he were Masrur and those courtiers as they were my own. By Allah, O Ja’afar, my reason is confounded and I am filled with amazement this matter!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph saw this spectacle his reason was confounded and he cried, “By Allah, I am filled with amazement at this matter!” and Ja’afar replied, “And I also, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful.” Then the barge passed on and disappeared from sight whereupon the boatman pushed out again into the stream, saying, “Praised be Allah for safety, since none hath fallen in with us!” Quoth the Caliph, “O old man, doth the Caliph come down the Tigris-river every night?” The boatman answered, “Yes, O my lord; and on such wise hath he done every night this year past.” “O Shaykh,” rejoined Al–Rashid, “we wish thee of thy favour to await us here to-morrow night and we will give thee five golden dinars, for we are stranger folk, lodging in the quarter Al–Khandak, and we have a mind to divert ourselves.” Said the oldster, “With joy and good will!” Then the Caliph and Ja’afar and Masrur left the boatman and returned to the palace; where they doffed their merchants’ habits and, donning their apparel of state, sat down each in his several-stead; and came the Emirs and Wazirs and Chamberlains and Officers, and the Divan assembled and was crowded as of custom. But when day ended and all the folk had dispersed and wended each his own way, the Caliph said to his Wazir, “Rise, O Ja’afar, let us go and amuse ourselves by looking on the second Caliph.” At this, Ja’afar and Masrur laughed, and the three, donning merchants’ habits, went forth by a secret pastern and made their way through the city, in great glee, till they came to the Tigris, where they found the graybeard sitting and awaiting them. They embarked with him in the boat and hardly had they sat down before up came the mock Caliph’s barge; and, when they looked at it attentively, they saw therein two hundred Mamelukes other than those of the previous night, while the link-bearers cried aloud as of wont. Quoth the Caliph, “O Wazir, had I heard tell of this, I had not believed it; but I have seen it with my own sight.” Then said he to the boatman, “Take, O Shaykh’ these ten dinars and row us along abreast of them, for they are in the light and we in the shade, and we can see them and amuse ourselves by looking on them, but they cannot see us.” So the man took the money and pushing off ran abreast of them in the shadow of the barge — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid said to the old man, “Take these ten dinars and row us abreast of them;” to which he replied, “I hear and I obey.” And he fared with them and ceased not going in the blackness of the barge, till they came amongst the gardens that lay alongside of them and sighted a large walled enclosure; and presently, the barge cast anchor before a postern door, where they saw servants standing with a she mule saddled and bridled. Here the mock Caliph landed and, mounting the mule, rode away with his courtiers and his cup-companions preceded by the cresset-bearers crying aloud, and followed by his household which busied itself in his service. Then Harun al-Rashid, Ja’afar and Masrur landed also and, making their way through the press of servants, walked on before them. Presently, the cresset-bearers espied them and seeing three persons in merchants’ habits, and strangers to the country, took offense at them; so they pointed them out and brought them before the other Caliph, who looked at them and asked, “How came ye to this place and who brought you at this tide?” They answered, “O our lord, we are foreign merchants and far from our homes, who arrived here this day and were out a-walking to-night, and behold, ye came up and these men laid hands on us and brought us to thy presence; and this is all our story.” Quoth the mock Caliph, “Since ye be stranger folk no harm shall befall you; but had ye been of Baghdad, I had struck off your heads.” Then he turned to his Wazir and said to him, “Take these men with thee; for they are our guests to-night.” “To hear is to obey, O our lord,” answered he; and they companied him till they came to a lofty and splendid palace set upon the firmest base; no Sultan possesseth such a place; rising from the dusty mould and upon the merges of the clouds laying hold. Its door was of Indian teak-wood inlaid with gold that glowed; and through it one passed into a royal-hall in whose midst was a jetting fount girt by a raised estrade. It was provided with carpets and cushions of brocade and small pillows and long settees and hanging curtains; it was furnished with a splendour that dazed the mind and dumbed the tongue, and upon the door were written these two couplets,
“A Palace whereon be blessings and praise!
Which with all their beauty have robed the Days:
Where marvels and miracle-sights abound,
And to write its honours the pen affrays.”
The false Caliph entered with his company, and sat down on a throne of gold set with jewels and covered with a prayer carpet of yellow silk; whilst the boon-companions took their seats and the sword bearer of high works stood before him. Then the tables were laid and they ate; after which the dishes were removed and they washed their hands and the wine-service was set on with flagons and bowls in due order. The cup went round till it came to the Caliph, Harun al-Rashid, who refused the draught, and the mock Caliph said to Ja’afar, “What mattereth thy friend that he drinketh not?” He replied, “O my lord, indeed ’tis a long while he hath drunk naught of this.” Quoth the sham Caliph, “I have drink other than this, a kind of apple-wine,1 that will suit thy companion.” So he bade them bring the cider which they did forthright; when the false Caliph, coming up to Harun al-Rashid, said to him, “As often as it cometh to thy turn drink thou of this.” Then they continued to drink and make merry and pass the cup till the wine rose to their brains and mastered their wits; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sharáb al-tuffáh” = melapio or cider.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the false Caliph and his co sitters sat at their cups and gave not over drinking till the wine rose to their brains and mastered their wits; and Harun al-Rashid said to the Minister, “O Ja’afar, by Allah, we have no such vessels as these. Would to Heaven I knew what manner of man this youth is!” But while they were talking privily the young man cast a glance upon them and seeing the Wazir whisper the Caliph said, “’Tis rude to whisper.” He replied, “No rudeness was meant: this my friend did but say to me, ‘Verily I have travelled in most countries and have caroused with the greatest of Kings and I have companied with noble captains; yet never saw I a goodlier ordering than this entertainment nor passed a more delightful night; save that the people of Baghdad are wont to say, Wine without music often leaves you sick.’“When the second Caliph heard this, he smiled pleasantly and struck with a rod he had in his hand a round gong;1 and behold, a door opened and out came a eunuch, bearing a chair of ivory, inlaid with gold glittering fiery red and followed by a damsel of passing beauty and loveliness, symmetry and grace. He set down the chair and the damsel seated herself on it, as she were the sun shining sheen in a sky serene. In her hand she had a lute of Hindu make, which she laid in her lap and bent down over it as a mother bendeth over her little one, and sang to it, after a prelude in four-and-twenty modes, amazing all wits. Then she returned to the first mode and to a lively measure chanted these couplets,
“Love’s tongue within my heart speaks plain to thee,
Telling thee clearly I am fain of thee
Witness the fevers of a tortured heart,
And ulcered eyelid tear-flood rains for thee
God’s fate o’ertaketh all created things!
I knew not love till learnt Love’s pain of thee.”
Now when the mock Caliph heard these lines sung by the damsel, he cried with a great cry and rent his raiment to the very skirt, whereupon they let down a curtain over him and brought him a fresh robe, handsomer than the first. He put it on and sat as before, till the cup came round to him, when he struck the gong a second time and lo! a door opened and out of it came a eunuch with a chair of gold, followed by a damsel fairer than the first, bearing a lute, such as would strike the envious mute. She sat down on the chair and sang to her instrument these two couplets,
“How patient bide, with love in sprite of me,
And tears in tempest2 blinding sight of me?
By Allah, life has no delight of me!
How gladden heart whose core is blight of me?”
No sooner had the youth heard this poetry than he cried out with a loud cry and rent his raiment to the skirt: whereupon they let down the curtain over him and brought him another suit of clothes. He put it on and, sitting up as before, fell again to cheerful talk, till the cup came round to him, when he smote once more upon the gong and out came a eunuch with a chair, followed by a damsel fairer than she who forewent her. So she sat down on the chair, with a lute in her hand, and sang thereto these couplets,
“Cease ye this farness; ‘bate this pride of you,
To whom my heart clings, by life-tide of you!
Have ruth on hapless, mourning, lover-wretch,
Desire-full, pining, passion-tried of you:
Sickness hath wasted him, whose ecstasy
Prays Heaven it may be satisfied of you:
Oh fullest moons3 that dwell in deepest heart!
How can I think of aught by side of you?”
Now when the young man heard these couplets, he cried out with a great cry and rent his raiment, whereupon they let fall the curtain over him and brought him other robes. Then he returned to his former case with his boon-companions and the bowl went round as before, till the cup came to him, when he struck the gong a fourth time and the door opening, out came a page-boy bearing a chair followed by a damsel. He set the chair for her and she sat down thereon and taking the lute, tuned it and sang to it these couplets,
“When shall disunion and estrangement end?
When shall my bygone joys again be kenned?
Yesterday we were joined in same abode;
Conversing heedless of each envious friend:4
Trickt us that traitor Time, disjoined our lot
And our waste home to desert fate condemned:
Wouldst have me, Grumbler! from my dearling fly?
I find my vitals blame will not perpend:
Cease thou to censure; leave me to repine;
My mind e’er findeth thoughts that pleasure lend.
O Lords5 of me who brake our troth and plight,
Deem not to lose your hold of heart and sprite!”
When the false Caliph heard the girl’s song, he cried out with a loud outcry and rent his raiment — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Mudawwarah,” which generally means a small round cushion, of the Marocco-work well known in England. But one does not strike a cushion for a signal, so we must revert to the original-sense of the word “something round,” as a circular plate of wood or metal, a gong, a “bell” like that of the Eastern Christians.
2 Arab. “Túfán” (from the root tauf, going round) a storm, a circular gale, a cyclone the term universally applied in Al-lslam to the “Deluge,” the “Flood” of Noah. The word is purely Arabic; with a quaint likeness to the Gr. {Greek letters}, in Pliny typhon, whirlwind, a giant (Typhœus) whence “Typhon” applied to the great Egyptian god “Set.” The Arab word extended to China and was given to the hurricanes which the people call “Tee foong,” great winds, a second whimsical-resemblance. But Sir John Davis (ii. 383) is hardly correct when he says, “the name typhoon, in itself a corruption of the Chinese term, bears a singular (though we must suppose an accidental) resemblance to the Greek {Greek letters}. ”
3 Plurale majestatis acting superlative; not as Lane supposes (ii. 224) “a number of full moons, not only one.” Eastern tongues abound in instances beginning with Genesis (i. 1), “Gods (he) created the heaven,” etc. It is still preserved in Badawi language and a wildling greatly to the astonishment of the citizens will address his friend “Yá Rijál”= O men!
4 Arab. “Hásid” = an envier: in the fourth couplet “Azúl” (Azzál, etc.) = a chider, blamer; elsewhere “Lawwám” = accuser, censor, slanderer; “Wáshí,”=whisperer, informer; “Rakib”=spying, envious rival; “Ghábit”=one emulous without envy; and “Shámit”= a “blue” (fierce) enemy who rejoices over another’s calamities. Arabic literature abounds in allusions to this unpleasant category of “damned ill-natured friends;” and Spanish and Portuguese letters, including Brazilian, have thoroughly caught the trick. In the Eastern mind the “blamer” would be aided by the “evil eye.”
5 Another plural for a singular, “O my beloved!”
She said, When the false Caliph heard the girl’s song, he cried with a loud outcry and rent his raiment and fell to the ground fainting; whereupon they would have let down the curtain over him, as of custom; but its cords stuck fast and Harun al-Rashid, after considering him carefully, saw on his body the marks of beating with palm-rods and said to Ja’afar, “By Allah, he is a handsome youth, but a foul thief!” “Whence knowest thou that, O Commander of the Faithful?” asked Ja’afar, and the Caliph answered, “Sawest thou not the whip-scars on his ribs?” Then they let fall the curtain over him and brought him a fresh dress, which he put on and sat up as before with his courtiers and cup- companions. Presently he saw the Caliph and Ja’afar whispering together and said to them, “What is the matter, fair sirs?” Quoth Ja’afar, “O my lord, all is well,1 save that this my comrade, who (as is not unknown to thee) is of the merchant company and hath visited all the great cities and countries of the world and hath consorted with kings and men of highest consideration, saith to me: ‘Verily, that which our lord the Caliph hath done this night is beyond measure extravagant, never saw I any do the like doings in any country; for he hath rent such and such dresses, each worth a thousand dinars and this is surely excessive unthriftiness.’” Replied the second Caliph, “Ho thou, the money is my money and the stuff my stuff, and this is by way of largesse to my suite and servants; for each suit that is rent belongeth to one of my cup-companions here present, and I assign to them with each suit of clothes the sum of five hundred dinars.” The Wazir Ja’afar replied, “Well is whatso thou doest, O our lord,” and recited these two couplets,
“Virtue in hand of thee hath built a house,
And to mankind thou dost thy wealth expose:
If an the virtues ever close their doors,
That hand would be a key the lock to unclose.”
Now when the young man heard these verses recited by the Minister Ja’afar, he ordered him to be gifted with a thousand dinars and a dress of honour. Then the cup went round among them and the wine was sweet to them; but, after a while quoth the Caliph to Ja’afar, “Ask him of the marks on his sides, that we may see what he will say by way of reply.” Answered Ja’afar, “Softly, O my lord, be not hasty and soothe thy mind, for patience is more becoming.” Rejoined the Caliph, “By the life of my head and by the revered tomb of Al Abbas,2 except thou ask him, I will assuredly stop thy breath!” With this the young man turned towards the Minister and said to him, “What aileth thee and thy friend to be whispering together? Tell me what is the matter with you.” “It is nothing save good,” replied Ja’afar; but the mock Caliph rejoined, “I conjure thee, by Allah, tell me what aileth you and hide from me nothing of your case.” Answered the Wazir “O my lord, verily this one here saw on thy sides the marks of beating with whips and palm-fronds and marvelled thereat with exceeding marvel, saying, ‘How came the Caliph to be beaten?’; and he would fain know the cause of this.” Now when the youth heard this, he smiled and said, “Know ye that my story is wondrous and my case marvellous; were it graven with needles on the eye corners, it would serve as a warner to whoso would be warned.” And he sighed and repeated these couplets,
“Strange is my story, passing prodigy;
By Love I swear, my ways wax strait on me!
An ye desire to hear me, listen, and
Let all in this assembly silent be.
Heed ye my words which are of meaning deep,
Nor lies my speech;
’tis truest verity.
I’m slain3 by longing and by ardent love;
My slayer’s the pearl of fair virginity.
She hath a jet black eye like Hindi blade,
And bowèd eyebrows shoot her archery
My heart assures me our Imam is here,
This age’s Caliph, old nobility:
Your second, Ja’afar hight, is his Wazir;
A Sahib,4
Sahib-son of high degree:
The third is called Masrur who wields the sword:
Now, if in words of mine some truth you see
I have won every wish by this event
Which fills my heart with joy and gladdest greet”
When they heard these words Ja’afar swore to him an ambiguous oath that they were not those he named, whereupon he laughed and said: “Know, O my lords, that I am not the Commander of the Faithful and that I do but style myself thus, to win my will of the sons of the city. My true name is Mohammed Ali, son of Ali the Jeweller, and my father was one of the notables of Baghdad, who left me great store of gold and silver and pearls and coral and rubies and chrysolites and other jewels, besides messuages and lands, Hammam-baths and brickeries, orchards and flower-gardens. Now as I sat in my shop one day surrounded by my eunuchs and dependents, behold, there came up a young lady, mounted on a she-mule and attended by three damsels like moons. Riding up to my shop she alighted and seated herself by my side and said ‘Art thou Mohammed the Jeweller?’ Replied I, ‘Even so! I am he, thy Mameluke, thy chattel.’ She asked, ‘Hast thou a necklace of jewels fit for me?’ and I answered, ‘O my lady, I will show thee what I have; and lay all before thee and, if any please thee, it will be of thy slave’s good luck; if they please thee not, of his ill fortune.’ Now I had by me an hundred necklaces and showed them all to her; but none of them pleased her and she said, ‘I want a better than those I have seen.’ I had a small necklace which my father had bought at an hundred thousand dinars and whose like was not to be found with any of the great kings; so I said to her, ‘O my lady, I have yet one necklace of fine stones fit for bezels, the like of which none possesseth, great or small. Said she, Show it to me,’ so I showed it to her, and she said, ‘This is what I wanted and what I have wished for all my life;’ adding, ‘What is its price?’ Quoth I, ‘It cost my father an hundred thousand dinars;’ and she said, ‘I will give thee five thousand dinars to thy profit.’ I answered, ‘O my lady, the necklace and its owner are at thy service and I cannot gainsay thee.’ But she rejoined, ‘Needs must thou have the profit, and I am still most grateful to thee.’ Then she rose without stay or delay; and, mounting the mule in haste, said to me, ‘O my lord, in Allah’s name, favour us with thy company to receive the money; for this thy day with us is white as milk.’5 So I shut the shop and accompanied her, in all security, till we came to a house, on which were manifest the signs of wealth and rank; for its door was wrought with gold and silver and ultramarine, and thereon were written these two couplets,
‘Hole, thou mansion! woe ne’er enter thee;
Nor be thine owner e’er misused of Fate
Excellent mansion to all guests art thou,
When other mansions to the guest are strait.’
The young lady dismounted and entered the house, bidding me sit down on the bench at the gate, till the money-changer should arrive. So I sat awhile, when behold, a damsel came out to me and said, ‘O my lord, enter the vestibule; for it is a dishonour that thou shouldst sit at the gate.’ Thereupon I arose and entered the vestibule and sat down on the settle there, and, as I sat, lo! another damsel came out and said to me, ‘O my lord my mistress biddeth thee enter and sit down at the door of the saloon, to receive thy money.’ I entered and sat down, nor had I sat a moment when behold, a curtain of silk which concealed a throne of gold was drawn aside, and I saw seated thereon the lady who had made the purchase, and round her neck she wore the necklace which looked pale and wan by the side of a face as it were the rounded moon; At her sight, my wit was troubled and my mind confounded, by reason of her exceeding beauty and loveliness, but when she saw me she rose from her throne and coming close up to me, said, ‘O light of mine eyes, is every handsome one like thee pitiless to his mistress?’ I answered, ‘O my lady, beauty, all of it, is in thee and is but one of thy hidden charms.’ And she rejoined, ‘O Jeweller, know that I love thee and can hardly credit that I have brought thee hither.’ Then she bent towards me and I kissed her and she kissed me and, as she caressed me, drew me towards her and to her breast she pressed me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Khayr”=good news, a euphemistic reply even if the tidings be of the worst.
2 Abbás (from ‘Abs, being austere; and meaning the “grim faced”) son of Abd al-Muttalib; uncle to Mohammed and eponym of the Abbaside Khalifahs. A.D. 749=1258.
3 Katíl = the Irish “kilt.”
4 This hat been explained as a wazirial title of the time.
5 The phrase is intelligible in all tongues: in Arabic it is opposed to “dark as night,” “black as mud” and a host of unsavoury antitheses.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Jeweller continued: “Then she bent towards me and kissed and caressed me; and, as she caressed me, drew me towards her and to her breast she pressed me. Now she knew by my condition that I had a mind to enjoy her; so she said to me, ‘O my lord, wouldst thou foregather with me unlawfully? By Allah, may he not live who would do the like of this sin and who takes pleasure in talk unclean! I am a maid, a virgin whom no man hath approached, nor am I unknown in the city. Knowest thou who I am?’ Quoth I, ‘No, by Allah, O my lady!’; and quoth she, ‘I am the Lady Dunyá, daughter of Yáhyá bin Khálid the Barmecide and sister of Ja’afar, Wazir to the Caliph.’ Now as I heard this, I drew back from her, saying, ‘O my lady, it is no fault of mine if I have been over-bold with thee; it was thou didst encourage me to aspire to thy love, by giving me access to thee.’ She answered, ‘No harm shall befal-thee, and needs must thou attain thy desire in the only way pleasing to Allah. I am my own mistress and the Kazi shall act as my guardian in consenting to the marriage contract; for it is my will that I be to thee wife and thou be to me man.’ Then she sent for the Kazi and the witnesses and busied herself with making ready; and, when they came, she said to them, ‘Mohammed Ali, bin Ali the Jeweller, seeketh me in wedlock and hath given me the necklace to my marriage-settlement; and I accept and consent.’ So they wrote out the contract of marriage between us; and ere I went in to her the servants brought the wine-furniture and the cups passed round after the fairest fashion and the goodliest ordering; and, when the wine mounted to our heads, she ordered a damsel, a lute-player,1 to sing. So she took the lute and sang to a pleasing and stirring motive these couplets,
‘He comes; and fawn and branch and moon delight these eyne
Fie2 on his heart who sleeps o’ nights without repine
Pair youth, for whom Heaven willed to quench in cheek one light,
And left another light on other cheek bright li’en: I fain finesse my chiders when they mention him,
As though the hearing of his name I would decline;
And willing ear I lend when they of other speak;
Yet would my soul within outflow in foods of brine:
Beauty’s own prophet, he is all a miracle
Of heavenly grace, and greatest shows his face for sign.3
To prayer Bilál-like cries that Mole upon his cheek
To ward from pearly brow all eyes of ill design:4
The censors of their ignorance would my love dispel
But after Faith I can’t at once turn Infidel.’
We were ravished by the sweet music she made striking the strings, and the beauty of the verses she sang; and the other damsels went on to sing and to recite one after another, till ten had so done; when the Lady Dunya took the lute and playing a lively measure, chanted these couplets,
‘I swear by swayings of that form so fair,
Aye from thy parting fiery
Pity a heart which burneth in thy love,
O bright as fullest moon in blackest air!
Vouchsafe thy boons to him who ne’er will cease
In light of wine-cup all thy charms declare,
Amid the roses which with varied hues
Are to the myrtle-bush5 a mere despair.’
When she had finished her verse I took the lute from her hands and, playing a quaint and not vulgar prelude sang the following verses,
‘Laud to my Lord who gave thee all of loveliness;
Myself amid thy thralls I willingly confess:
O thou, whose eyes and glances captivate mankind,
Pray that I ’scape those arrows shot with all thy stress!
Two hostile rivals water and enflaming fire
Thy cheek hath married, which for marvel I profess:
Thou art Sa’ír in heart of me and eke Na’ím;6
Thou agro-dolce, eke heart’s sweetest bitterness.’
When she heard this my song she rejoiced with exceeding joy; then, dismissing her slave women, she brought me to a most goodly place, where they had spread us a bed of various colours. She did off her clothes and I had a lover’s privacy of her and found her a pearl unpierced and a filly unridden. So I rejoiced in her and never in my born days spent I a more delicious night.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Awwádah,” the popular word; not Udíyyah as in Night cclvi. “Ud” liter.= rood and “Al–Ud”=the wood is, I have noted, the origin of our ‘lute.” The Span. ‘laud” is larger and deeper than the guitar, and its seven strings are played upon with a plectrum of buffalo-horn.
2 Arab. “Tabban lahu!”=loss (or ruin) to him. So “bu’dan lahu”=away with him, abeat in malam rem; and “Suhkan lahu”=Allah and mercy be far from him, no hope for him I
3 Arab. “Áyah”=Koranic verses, sign, miracle.
4 The mole on cheek calls to prayers for his preservation; and it is black as Bilal the Abyssinian. Fajran may here mean either “A.-morning” or “departing from grace.”
5 i.e. the young beard (myrtle) can never hope to excel tile beauties of his cheeks (roses).
6 i.e. Hell and Heaven.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Mohammed bin Ali the Jeweller continued: “So I went in unto the Lady Dunya, daughter of Yahya bin Khálid the Barmecide, and I found her a pearl unthridden and a filly unridden. So I rejoiced in her and repeated these couplets,
‘O Night here stay! I want no morning light;
My lover’s face to me is lamp and light:1
As ring of ring-dove round his necks my arm;
And made my palm his mouth-veil, and, twas right.
This be the crown of bliss, and ne’er we’ll cease
To clip, nor care to be in other plight.’
And I abode with her a whole month, forsaking shop and family and home, till one day she said to me, ‘O light of my eyes, O my lord Mohammed, I have determined to go to the Hammam to day; so sit thou on this couch and rise not from thy place, till I return to thee.’ ‘I hear and I obey,’ answered I, and she made me swear to this; after which she took her women and went off to the bath. But by Allah, O my brothers, she had not reached the head of the street ere the door opened and in came an old woman, who said to me, ‘O my lord Mohammed, the Lady Zubaydah biddeth thee to her, for she hath heard of thy fine manners and accomplishments and skill in singing.’ I answered, ‘By Allah, I will not rise from my place till the Lady Dunya come back.’ Rejoined the old woman, ‘O my lord, do not anger the Lady Zubaydah with thee and vex her so as to make her thy foe: nay, rise up and speak with her and return to thy place.’ So I rose at once and followed her into the presence of the Lady Zubaydah and, when I entered her presence she said to me, ‘O light of the eye, art thou the Lady Dunya’s beloved?’ ‘I am thy Mameluke, thy chattel,’ replied I. Quoth she, ‘Sooth spake he who reported thee possessed of beauty and grace and good breeding and every fine quality; indeed, thou surpassest all praise and all report. But now sing to me, that I may hear thee.’ Quoth I, ‘Hearkening and obedience;’ so she brought me a lute, and I sang to it these couplets,
‘The hapless lover’s heart is of his wooing weary grown,
And hand of sickness wasted him till naught but skin and bone
Who should be amid the riders which the haltered camels urge,
But that same lover whose beloved cloth in the litters wone:
To Allah’s charge I leave that moon-like Beauty in your tents
Whom my heart loves, albe my glance on her may ne’er be thrown.
Now she is fain; then she is fierce: how sweet her coyness shows;
Yea sweet whatever cloth or saith to lover loved one!’
When I had finished my song she said to me, ‘Allah assain thy body and thy voice! Verily, thou art perfect in beauty and good breeding and singing. But now rise and return to thy place, ere the Lady Dunya come back, lest she find thee not and be wroth with thee.’ Then I kissed the ground before her and the old woman forewent me till I reached the door whence I came. So I entered and, going up to the couch, found that my wife had come back from the bath and was lying asleep there. Seeing this I sat down at her feet and rubbed them; whereupon she opened her eyes and seeing me, drew up both her feet and gave me a kick that threw me off the couch,2 saying, ‘O traitor, thou hast been false to thine oath and hast perjured thyself. Thou swarest to me that thou wouldst not rise from thy place; yet didst thou break thy promise and go to the Lady Zubaydah. By Allah, but that I fear public scandal, I would pull down her palace over her head!’ Then said she to her black slave, ‘O Sawáb, arise and strike off this lying traitor’s head, for we have no further need of him.’ So the slave came up to me and, tearing a strip from his skirt, bandaged with it my eyes3 and would have struck off my head;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The first couplet is not in the Mac. Edit. (ii. 171) which gives only a single couplet but it is found in the Bres. Edit. which entitles this tale “Story of the lying (or false kázib) Khalífah.” Lane (ii. 392) of course does not translate it.
2 In the East cloth of frieze that mates with cloth of gold must expect this treatment. Fath Ali Shah’s daughters always made their husbands enter the nuptial-bed by the foot end.
3 This is always done and for two reasons; the first humanity, that the blow may fall unawares; and, secondly, to prevent the sufferer wincing, which would throw out the headsman.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Mohammed the Jeweller continued: “So the slave came up to me and, tearing a strip from his skirt, bandaged with it my eyes and would have struck off my head, but all her women, great and small, rose and came up to her and said to her, ‘O our lady, this is not the first who hath erred: indeed, he knew not thy humour and hath done thee no offence deserving death.’ Replied she, ‘By Allah, I must needs set my mark on him.’ And she bade them bash me; so they beat me on my ribs and the marks ye saw are the scars of that fustigation. Then she ordered them to cast me out, and they carried me to a distance from the house and threw me down like a log. After a time I rose and dragged myself little by little to my own place, where I sent for a surgeon and showed him my hurts; and he comforted me and did his best to cure me. As soon as I was recovered I went to the Hammam and, as my pains and sickness had left me, I repaired to my shop and took and sold all that was therein. With the proceeds, I bought me four hundred white slaves, such as no King ever got together, and caused two hundred of them to ride out with me every day. Then I made me yonder barge whereon I spent five thousand gold pieces; and styled myself Caliph and appointed each of my servants to the charge of some one of the Caliph’s officers and clad him in official habit. Moreover, I made proclamation, ‘Whoso goeth a-pleasuring on the Tigris by night, I will strike off his head, without ruth or delay;’ and on such wise have I done this whole year past, during which time I have heard no news of the lady neither happened upon any trace of her.” Then wept he copiously and repeated these couplets,
“By Allah! while the days endure ne’er shall forget her I,
Nor draw to any nigh save those who draw her to me nigh
Like to the fullest moon her form and favour show to me,
Laud to her All-creating Lord, laud to the Lord on high,
She left me full of mourning, sleepless, sick with pine and pain
And ceaseth not my heart to yearn her mystery1 to espy.”
Now when Harun al-Rashid heard the young man’s story and knew the passion and transport and love lowe that afflicted him, he was moved to compassion and wonder and said, “Glory be to Allah, who hath appointed to every effect a cause!” Then they craved the young man’s permission to depart; which being granted, they took leave of him, the Caliph purposing to do him justice meet, and him with the utmost munificence entreat; and they returned to the palace of the Caliphate, where they changed clothes for others befitting their state and sat down, whilst Masrur the Sworder of High Justice stood before them. After awhile, quoth the Caliph to Ja’afar, “O Wazir, bring me the young man’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ma’áni-há,” lit. her meanings, i.e. her inner woman opposed to the formal-seen by every one.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the Caliph to his Minister, “Bring me the young man with whom we were last night.” “I hear and obey,” answered Ja’afar and, going to the youth, saluted him, saying, “Obey the summons of the Commander of the Faithful, the Caliph Harun al-Rashid.” So he returned with him to the palace, in great anxiety by reason of the summons; and, going in to the King, kissed ground before him; and offered up a prayer for the endurance of his glory and prosperity, for the accomplishment of his desires, for the continuance of his beneficence and for the cessation of evil and punishment; ordering his speech as best he might and ending by saying, “Peace be on thee, O Prince of True Believers and Protector of the folk of the Faith!” Then he repeated these two couplets,
“Kiss thou his fingers which no fingers are;
Keys of our daily bread those fingers ken:
And praise his actions which no actions are,
But precious necklaces round necks of men.”
So the Caliph smiled in his face and returned his salute, looking on him with the eye of favour; then he bade him draw near and sit down before him and said to him, “O Mohammed Ali, I wish thee to tell me what befel thee last night, for it was strange and passing strange.” Quoth the youth, “Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful, give me the kerchief of immunity, that my dread may be appeased and my heart eased.” Replied the Caliph, “I promise thee safety from fear and woes.” So the young man told him his story from first to last, whereby the Caliph knew him to be a lover and severed from his beloved and said to him, “Desirest thou that I restore her to thee?” “This were of the bounty of the Commander of the Faithful,” answered the youth and repeated these two couplets.
“Ne’er cease thy gate be Ka’abah to mankind;
Long may its threshold dust man’s brow beseem!
That o’er all countries it may be proclaimed,
This is the Place and thou art Ibrahim.”1
Thereupon the Caliph turned to his Minister and said to him, “O Ja’afar, bring me thy sister, the Lady Dunya, daughter of the Wazir Yahya bin Khálid!” “I hear and I obey,” answered he and fetched her without let or delay. Now when she stood before the Caliph he said to her, “Doss thou know who this is?”; and she replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, how should women have knowledge of men?”2 So the Caliph smiled and said, “O Dunya this is thy beloved, Mohammed bin Ali the Jeweller. We are acquainted with his case, for we have heard the whole story from beginning to end, and have apprehended its inward and its outward; and it is no more hidden from me, for all it was kept in secrecy.” Replied she, “O Commander of the Faithful, this was written in the Book of Destiny; I crave the forgiveness of Almighty Allah for the wrong I have wrought, and pray thee to pardon me of thy favour.” At this the Caliph laughed and, summoning the Kazi and witnesses, renewed the marriage-contract between the Lady Dunya and her husband, Mohammed Ali son of the Jeweller, whereby there betided them, both her and him the utmost felicity, and to their enviers mortification and misery. Moreover, he made Mohammed Ali one of his boon-companions, and they abode in joy and cheer and gladness, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies. And men also relate the pleasant tale of
1 Described in my Pilgrimage (iii. 168, 174 and 175): it is the stone upon which the Patriarch stood when he built the Ka’abah and is said to show the impress of the feet but unfortunately I could not afford five dollars entrance-fee. Caliph Omar placed the station where it now is; before his time it adjoined the Ka’abah. The meaning of the text is, Be thy court a place of pious visitation, etc. At the “Station of Abraham” prayer is especially blessed and expects to be granted. “This is the place where Abraham stood; and whoever entereth therein shall be safe” (Koran ii. 119). For the other fifteen places where petitions are favourably heard by Heaven see ibid. iii. 211–12.
2 As in the West, so in the East, women answer an unpleasant question by a counter question.
It is said that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, being restless one night, sent for his Wazir and said to him, “O Ja’afar, I am sore wakeful and heavy-hearted this night, and I desire of thee what may solace my spirit and cause my breast to broaden with amuse meet.” Quoth Ja’afar, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have a friend, by name Ali the Persian, who hath store of tales and plea sent stories, such as lighten the heart and make care depart.” Quoth the Caliph, “Fetch him to me,” and quoth Ja’afar, “Hearkening and obedience;” and, going out from before him, sent to seek Ali the Persian and when he came said to him, “Answer the summons of the Commander of the Faithful.” “To hear is to obey,” answered Ali; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Persian replied, “To hear is to obey;” and at once followed the Wazir into the presence of the Caliph who bade him be seated and said to him, “O Ali, my heart is heavy within me this night and it hath come to my ear that thou hast great store of tales and anecdotes; so I desire of thee that thou let me hear what will relieve my despondency and brighten my melancholy.” Said he, “O Commander of the Faithful, shall I tell thee what I have seen with my eyes or what I have heard with my ears?” He replied, “An thou have seen aught worth the telling, let me hear that.” Replied Ali: “Hearkening and obedience. Know thou, O Commander of the Faithful, that some years ago I left this my native city of Baghdad on a journey, having with me a lad who carried a light leathern bag. Presently we came to a certain city, where, as I was buying and selling, behold, a rascally Kurd fell on me and seized my wallet perforce, saying, ‘This is my bag, and all which is in it is my property.’ Thereupon, I cried aloud ‘Ho Moslems,1 one and all, deliver me from the hand of the vilest of oppressors!’ But the folk said, ‘Come, both of you, to the Kazi and abide ye by his judgment with joint consent.’ So I agreed to submit myself to such decision and we both presented ourselves before the Kazi, who said, ‘What bringeth you hither and what is your case and your quarrel?’ Quoth I, ‘We are men at difference, who appeal to thee and make complaint and submit ourselves to thy judgment.’ Asked the Kazi, ‘Which of you is the complainant?’; so the Kurd came forward2 and said, ‘Allah preserve our lord the Kazi! Verily, this bag is my bag and all that is in it is my swag. It was lost from me and I found it with this man mine enemy.’ The Kazi asked, ‘When didst thou lose it?’; and the Kurd answered, ‘But yesterday, and I passed a sleepless night by reason of its loss.’ ‘An it be thy bag,’ quoth the Kazi, ‘tell me what is in it.’ Quoth the Kurd, ‘There were in my bag two silver styles for eye-powder and antimony for the eyes and a kerchief for the hands, wherein I had laid two gilt cups and two candlesticks. Moreover it contained two tents and two platters and two spoons and a cushion and two leather rugs and two ewers and a brass tray and two basins and a cooking-pot and two water-jars and a ladle and a sacking-needle and a she-cat and two bitches and a wooden trencher and two sacks and two saddles and a gown and two fur pelisses and a cow and two calves and a she-goat and two sheep and an ewe and two lambs and two green pavilions and a camel and two she-camels and a lioness and two lions and a she-bear and two jackals and a mattress and two sofas and an upper chamber and two saloons and a portico and two sitting-rooms and a kitchen with two doors and a company of Kurds who will bear witness that the bag is my bag.’ Then said the Kazi to me, ‘And thou, sirrah, what sayest thou?’ So I came forward, O Commander of the Faithful (and indeed the Kurd’s speech had bewildered me) and said, ‘Allah advance our lord the Kazi! Verily, there was naught in this my wallet, save a little ruined tenement and another without a door and a dog house and a boys’ school and youths playing dice and tents and tent-ropes and the cities of Bassorah and Baghdad and the palace of Shaddad bin Ad and an ironsmith’s forge and a fishing-net and cudgels and pickets and girls and boys and a thousand pimps who will testify that the bag is my bag.’ Now when the Kurd heard my words, he wept and wailed and said, ‘O my lord the Kazi, this my bag is known and what is in it is a matter of renown; for in this bag there be castles and citadels and cranes and beasts of prey and men playing chess and draughts. Furthermore, in this my bag is a brood-mare and two colts and a stallion and two blood-steeds and two long lances; and it containeth eke a lion and two hares and a city and two villages and a whore and two sharking panders and an hermaphrodite and two gallows birds and a blind man and two wights with good sight and a limping cripple and two lameters and a Christian ecclesiastic and two deacons and a patriarch and two monks and a Kazi and two assessors, who will be evidence that the bag is my bag.’ Quoth the Kazi to me, ‘And what sayst thou, O Ali?’ So, O Commander of the Faithful, being filled with rage, I came forward and said, ‘Allah keep our lord the Kazi!’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Persian continued: “So being filled with rage, O Commander of the Faithful, I came forward and said, ‘Allah keep our lord the Kazi I had in this my wallet a coat of mail and a broadsword and armouries and a thousand fighting rams and a sheep-fold with its pasturage and a thousand barking dogs and gardens and vines and flowers and sweet smelling herbs and figs and apples and statues and pictures and flagons and goblets and fair-faced slave-girls and singing-women and marriage-feasts and tumult and clamour and great tracts of land and brothers of success, which were robbers, and a company of daybreak-raiders with swords and spears and bows and arrows and true friends and dear ones and Intimates and comrades and men imprisoned for punishment and cup-companions and a drum and flutes and flags and banners and boys and girls and brides (in all their wedding bravery), and singing-girls and five Abyssinian women and three Hindi maidens and four damsels of Al–Medinah and a score of Greek girls and eighty Kurdish dames and seventy Georgian ladies and Tigris and Euphrates and a fowling net and a flint and steel and Many-columned Iram and a thousand rogues and pimps and horse-courses and stables and mosques and baths and a builder and a carpenter and a plank and a nail and a black slave with his flageolet and a captain and a caravan leader and towns and cities and an hundred thousand dinars and Cufa and Anbár1 and twenty chests full of stuffs and twenty storehouses for victuals and Gaza and Askalon and from Damietta to Al–Sawán2; and the palace of Kisra Anushirwan and the kingdom of Solomon and from Wadi Nu’umán to the land of Khorasán and Balkh and Ispahán and from India to the Sudán. Therein also (may Allah prolong the life of our lord the Kazi!) are doublets and cloths and a thousand sharp razors to shave off the Kazi’s beard, except he fear my resentment and adjudge the bag to be my bag.’ Now when the Kazi heard what I and the Kurd avouched, he was confounded and said, ‘I see ye twain be none other than two pestilent fellows, atheistical-villains who make sport of Kazis and magistrates and stand not in fear of reproach. Never did tongue tell nor ear hear aught more extraordinary than that which ye pretend. By Allah, from China to Shajarat Umm Ghaylán, nor from Fars to Sudan nor from Wadi Nu’uman to Khorasan, was ever heard the like of what ye avouch or credited the like of what ye affirm. Say, fellows, be this bag a bottomless sea or the Day of Resurrection that shall gather together the just and unjust?’ Then the Kazi bade them open the bag; so I opened it and behold, there was in it bread and a lemon and cheese and olives. So I threw the bag down before the Kurd and ganged my gait.” Now when the Caliph heard this tale from Ali the Persian, he laughed till he fell on his back and made him a handsome present.3 And men also relate a
1 On the Euphrates some 40 miles west of Baghdad The word is written “Anbár” and pronounced “Ambár” as usual with the “n” before “b”; the case of the Greek double Gamma.
2 Syene on the Nile.
3 The tale is in the richest Rabelaisian humour; and the requisitions of the “Saj’a” (rhymed prose) in places explain the grotesque combinations. It is difficult to divine why Lane omits it: probably he held a hearty laugh not respectable.
It is said that Ja’afar the Barmecide was one night carousing with Al Rashid, who said, “O Ja’afar, it hath reached me that thou hast bought such and such a slave-girl. Now I have long sought her for she is passing fair; and my heart is taken up with love of her, so do thou sell her to me.” He replied, “I will not sell her, O Commander of the Faithful.” Quoth he, “Then give her to me.” Quoth the other, “Nor will I give her.” Then Al–Rashid exclaimed, “Be Zubaydah triply divorced an thou shall not either sell or give her to me!” Then Ja’afar exclaimed, “Be my wife triply divorced an I either sell or give her to thee!” After awhile they recovered from their tipsiness and were aware of having fallen into a grave dilemma, but knew not by what device to extricate themselves. Then said Al–Rashid, “None can help us in this strait but Abú Yúsuf.”1 So they sent for him, and this was in the middle of the night; and when the messenger reached him, he arose in alarm, saying to himself, “I should not be sent for at this tide and time, save by reason of some question of moment to Al–Islam.” So he went out in haste and mounted his she-mule, saying to his servant, “Take the mule’s nose-bag with thee; it may be she hath not finished her feed; and when we come to the Caliph’s palace, put the bag on her, that she may eat what is left of her fodder, during the last of the night.” And the man replied, “I hear and obey.” Now when the Imam was admitted to the presence, Al–Rashid rose to receive him and seated him on the couch beside himself (where he was wont to seat none save the Kazi), and said to him, “We have not sent for thee at this untimely time and tide save to advise us upon a grave matter, which is such and such and wherewith we know not how to deal.” And he expounded to him the case. Abu Yusuf answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, this is the easiest of things.” Then he turned to Ja’afar and said, “O Ja’afar, sell half of her to the Commander of the Faithful and give him the other half; so shall ye both be quit of your oaths.” The Caliph was delighted with this and both did as he prescribed. Then said Al–Rashid, “Bring me the girl at once,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A lawyer of the eighth century, one of the chief pupils of the Imam Abu Hanifah, and Kazi of Baghdad under the third, fourth and fifth Abbasides. The tale is told in the quasi-historical-Persian work “Nigáristán” (The Picture gallery), and is repeated by Richardson, Diss. 7, xiii. None seem to have remarked that the distinguished legist, Abu Yusuf, was on this occasion a law-breaker; the Kazi’s duty being to carry out the code not to break it by the tricks of a cunning attorney. In Harun’s day, however, some regard was paid to justice, not under his successors, one of whom, Al–Muktadir bi ‘lláh (A.H. 295=907), made the damsel Yamika President of the Diwán al-Mazálim (Court of the Wronged), a tribunal which took cognizance of tyranny and oppression in high places.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid commanded, “Bring me the girl at once, for I long for her exceedingly.” So they brought her and the Caliph said to Abu Yusuf, I have a mind to have her forthright, for I cannot bear to abstain from her during the prescribed period of purification; now how is this to be done?” Abu Yusuf replied, “Bring me one of thine own male slaves who hath never been manumitted.” So they brought one and Abu Yusuf said, “Give me leave to marry her to him; then let him divorce her before consummation; and thus shall it be lawful for thee to lie with her before purification.” This second expedient pleased the Caliph yet more than the first; he sent for the Mameluke and, whenas he came, said to the Kazi “I authorise thee to marry her to him.” So the Imam proposed the marriage to the slave, who accepted it, and performed the ceremony; after which he said to the slave, “Divorce her, and thou shalt have an hundred dinars.” But he replied, “I won’t do this;” and the Imam went on to increase his offer, and the slave to refuse till he bid him a thousand dinars. Then the man asked him, “Doth it rest with me to divorce her, or with thee or with the Commander of the Faithful?” He answered, “It is in thy hand.” “Then by Allah,” quoth the slave, “I will never do it; no, never!” Hearing these words the Caliph was exceeding wroth and said to the Imam, “What is to be done, O Abu Yusuf?” Replied he, “Be not concerned, O Commander of the Faithful; the thing is easy. Make this slave the damsel’s chattel.” Quoth Al–Rashid, “I give him to her;” and the Imam said to the girl, “Say: I accept.” So she said, I accept;” whereon quoth Abu Yusuf, “I pronounce separation from bed and board and divorce between them, for that he hath become her property, and so the marriage is annulled.” With this, Al–Rashid rose to his feet and exclaimed, “It is the like of thee that shall be Kazi in my time.” Then he called for sundry trays of gold and emptied them before Abu Yusuf, to whom he said, “Hast thou wherein to put this?” The Imam bethought him of the mule’s nose-bag; so he sent for it and, filling it with gold, took it and went home. And on the morrow, he said to his friends, “There is no easier nor shorter road to the goods of this world and the next, than that of religious learning; for, see, I have gotten all this money by answering two or three questions.” So consider thou, O polite reader,1 the pleasantness of this anecdote, for it compriseth divers goodly features, amongst which are the complaisance of Ja’afar to Al Rashid, and the wisdom of the Caliph who chose such a Kazi and the excellent learning of Abu Yusuf, may Almighty Allah have mercy on their souls one and all! And they also tell the
1 Here the writer evidently forgets that Shahrazad is telling the story to the king, as Boccaccio (ii. 7) forgets that Pamfilo is speaking. Such inconsequences are common in Eastern story-books and a goody-goody sentiment is always heartily received as in an English theatre.
When Khálid bin Abdallah al-Kasri1 was Emir of Bassorah, there came to him one day a company of men dragging a youth of exceeding beauty and lofty bearing and perfumed attire; whose aspect expressed good breeding, abundant wit and dignity of the gravest. They brought him before the Governor, who asked what it was and they replied, “This fellow is a thief, whom we caught last night in our dwelling-house.” Whereupon Khálid looked at him and was pleased with his well-favouredness and elegant aspect; so he said to the others, “Loose him,” and going up to the young man, asked what he had to say for himself. He replied, “Verily the folk have spoken truly and the case is as they have said.” Quoth Khálid, “And what moved thee to this and thou so noble of port and comely of mien?” Quoth the other “The lust after worldly goods, and the ordinance of Allah (extolled exalted be He!).” Rejoined Khálid, “Be thy mother bereaved of thee!2 Hadst thou not, in thy fair face and sound sense and good breeding, what should restrain thee from thieving?” Answered the young man, “O Emir, leave this talk and proceed to what Almighty Allah hath ordained; this is what my hands have earned, and, ‘God is not unjust towards mankind.’”3 So Khálid was silent awhile considering the matter then he bade the young man draw near him and said, “Verily, thy confession before witnesses perplexeth me, for I cannot believe thee to be a thief: haply thou hast some story that is other than one of theft; and if so tell it me.” Replied the youth “O Emir, imagine naught other than what I have confessed to in thy presence; for I have no tale to tell save that verily I entered these folks’ house and stole what I could lay hands on and they caught me and took the stuff from me and carried me before thee.” Then Khalid bade clap him in gaol and commended a crier to cry throughout Bassorah, “O yes! O yes! Whoso be minded to look upon the punishment of such an one, the thief, and the cutting-off of his hand, let him be present to- morrow morning at such a place!” Now when the young man found himself in prison, with irons on his feet, he sighed heavily and with tears streaming from his eyes extemporized these couplets,
“When Khálid menaced off to strike my hand
If I refuse to tell him of her case;
Quoth I, ‘Far, far fro’ me that I should tell
A love, which ever shall my heart engrace;
Loss of my hand for sin I have confessed
To me were easier than to shame her face.’”
The warders heard him and went and told Khálid who, when it was dark night, sent for the youth and conversed with him. He found him clever and well-bred, intelligent, lively and a pleasant companion; so he ordered him food and he ate. Then after an hour’s talk said Khálid, “I know indeed thou hast a story to tell that is no thief’s; so when the Kazi shall come to-morrow morning and shall question thee about this robbery, do thou deny the charge of theft and avouch what may avert the pain and penalty of cutting off thy hand; for the Apostle (whom Allah bless and keep!) saith, ‘In cases of doubt, eschew punishment.’” Then he sent him back to prison — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In the Mac. Edit. (ii. 182) “Al–Kushayri.” Al–Kasri was Governor of the two Iraks (I.e. Bassorah and Cufa) in the reign of Al–Hisham, tenth Ommiade (A.D. 723–741)
2 Arab. “Thakalata k Ummak!” This is not so much a curse as a playful phrase, like “Confound the fellow.” So “Kátala k Allah” (Allah slay thee) and “Lá abá lak” (thou hast no father or mother). These words are even complimentary on occasions, as a good shot or a fine recitation, meaning that the praised far excels the rest of his tribe.
3 Koran, iii. 178.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Khálid, after conversing with the youth, sent him back to prison, where he passed the night. And when morning dawned the folk assembled to see his hand cut off, nor was there a soul in Bassorah, man or woman, but was present to look upon the punishment of that handsome youth. Then Khálid mounted in company of the notables of the city and others; and, summoning all four Kazis, sent for the young man, who came hobbling and stumbling in his fetters. There was none saw him but wept over him and the women all lifted up their voices in lamentation as for the dead. Then the Kazi bade silence the women and said to the prisoner, “These folk avouch that thou didst enter their dwelling-house and steal their goods: belike thou stolest less than a quarter dinar1?” Replied he, “Nay, I stole that and more.” “Peradventure,” rejoined the Kazi “thou art partner with the folk in some of the goods?” Quoth the young man; “Not so: it was all theirs, and I had no right in it.” At this the Khálid was wroth and rose and smote him on the face with his whip, applying to his own case this couplet,
“Man wills his wish to him accorded be;
But Allah naught accords save what He wills.”
Then he called for the butcher to do the work, who came and drew forth his knife and taking the prisoner’s hand set the blade to it, when, behold, a damsel pressed through the crowd of women, clad in tattered clothes,2 and cried out and threw herself on the young man. Then she unveiled and showed a face like the moon whereupon the people raised a mighty clamour and there was like to have been a riot amongst them and a violent scene. But she cried out her loudest, saying, “I conjure thee, by Allah, O Emir, hasten not to cut off this man’s hand, till thou have read what is in this scroll!” So saying, she gave him a scroll, and Khálid took it and opened it and read therein these couplets,
“Ah Khálid! this one is a slave of love distraught,
And these bowed eye-lashes sent shaft that caused his grief:
Shot him an arrow sped by eyes of mine, for he,
Wedded to burning love of ills hath no relief:
He hath avowed a deed he never did, the while
Deeming this better than disgrace of lover fief:
Bear then, I pray, with this distracted lover mine
Whose noble nature falsely calls himself a thief!”
When Khálid had read these lines he withdrew himself from the people and summoned the girl and questioned her; and she told him that the young man was her lover and she his mistress; and that thinking to visit her he came to the dwelling of her people and threw a stone into the house, to warn her of his coming. Her father and brothers heard the noise of the stone and sallied out on him; but he, hearing them coming, caught up all the household stuff and made himself appear a robber to cover his mistress’s honour. “Now when they saw him they seized him (continued she), crying:— A thief! and brought him before thee, whereupon he confessed to the robbery and persisted in his confession, that he might spare me disgrace; and this he did, making himself a thief, of the exceeding nobility and generosity of his nature.” Khálid answered, “He is indeed worthy to have his desire;” and, calling the young man to him, kissed him between the eyes. Then he sent for the girl’s father and bespoke him, saying, “O Shaykh, we thought to carry out the law of mutilation in the case of this young man; but Allah (to whom be Honour and Glory!) hath preserved us from this, and I now adjudge him the sum of ten thousand dirhams, for that he would have given his hand for the preservation of thine honour and that of thy daughter and for the sparing of shame to you both. Moreover, I adjudge other ten thousand dirhams to thy daughter, for that she made known to me the truth of the case; and I ask thy leave to marry her to him.” Rejoined the old man, “O Emir, thou hast my consent.” So Khálid praised Allah and thanked Him and improved the occasion by preaching a goodly sermon and a prayerful; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Khálid praised Allah and thanked Him and improved the occasion by preaching a goodly sermon and a prayerful; after which he said to the young man, “I give thee to wife the damsel, such an one here present, with her own permission and her father’s consent; and her wedding settlement shall be this money, to wit, ten thousand dirhams.” “I accept this marriage at thy hands,” replied the youth; and Khálid bade them carry the money on brass trays in procession to the young man’s house, whilst the people dispersed, fully satisfied. “And surely (quoth he who tells the tale1) never saw I a rarer day than this, for that it began with tears and annoy; and it ended with smiles and joy.” And in contrast of this story is this piteous tale of
1 Abú Sa’íd Abd al-Malik bin Kurayb, surnamed Al–Asma’i from his grandfather, flor. A.H. 122–306 (=739–830) and wrote amongst a host of compositions the well-known Romance of Antar. See in D’Herbelot the right royal-directions given to him by Harun al-Rashid.
When Harun al-Rashid crucified Ja’afar the Barmecide1 he commended that all who wept or made moan for him should also be crucified; so the folk abstained from that. Now it chanced that a wild Arab, who dwelt in a distant word, used every year to bring to the aforesaid Ja’afar an ode2 in his honour, for which he rewarded him with a thousand dinars; and the Badawi took them and, returning to his own country, lived upon them, he and his family, for the rest of the year. Accordingly, he came with his ode at the wonted time and, finding that Ja’afar had been crucified, betook himself to the place where his body was hanging, and there made his camel kneel down and wept with sore weeping and mourned with grievous mourning; and he recited his ode and fell asleep. Presently Ja’afar the Barmecide appeared to him in a vision and said, “Verily thou hast wearied thyself to come to us and findest us as thou seest; but go to Bassorah and ask for a man there whose name is such and such, one of the merchants of the town, and say to him, ‘Ja’afar, the Barmecide, saluteth thee and biddeth thee give me a thousand dinars, by the token of the bean.’” Now when the wild Arab awoke, he repaired to Bassorah, where he sought out the merchant and found him and repeated to him what Ja’afar had said in the dream; whereupon he wept with weeping so sore that he was like to depart the world. Then he welcomed the Badawi and seated him by his side and made his stay pleasant and entertained him three days as an honoured guest; and when he was minded to depart he gave him a thousand and five hundred dinars, saying, “The thousand are what is commanded to thee, and the five hundred are a gift from me to thee; and every year thou shalt have of me a thousand gold pieces.” Now when the Arab was about to take leave, he said to the merchant, “Allah upon thee, tell me the story of the bean, that I may know the origin of all this.” He answered: “In the early part of my life I was poor and hawked hot beans3 about the streets of Baghdad to keep me alive. So I went out one raw and rainy day, without clothes enough on my body to protect me from the weather; now shivering for excess of cold and now stumbling into the pools of rain-water, and altogether in so piteous a plight as would make one shudder with goose-skin to look upon. But it chanced that Ja’afar that day was seated with his officers and his concubines, in an upper chamber overlooking the street when his eyes fell on me; so he took pity on my case and, sending one of his dependents to fetch me to him, said as soon as he saw me, ‘Sell thy beans to my people.’ So I began to mete out the beans with a measure I had by me; and each who took a measure of beans filled the measure with gold pieces till all my store was gone and my basket was clean empty. Then I gathered together the gold I had gotten, and Ja’afar said to me, ‘Hast thou any beans left?’ ‘I know not,’ answered I, and then sought in the basket, but found only one bean. So Ja’afar took from me the single bean and, splitting it in twain, kept one half himself and gave the other to one of his concubines, saying, ‘For how much wilt thou buy this half bean?’ She replied, ‘For the tale of all this gold twice-told;’ whereat I was confounded and said to myself, ‘This is impossible.’ But, as I stood wondering, behold, she gave an order to one of her hand-maids and the girl brought me the sum of the collected monies twice-told. Then said Ja’afar, ‘And I will buy the half I have by me for double the sum of the whole,’ presently adding, ‘Now take the price of thy bean.’ And he gave an order to one of his servants, who gathered together the whole of the money and laid it in my basket; and I took it and went my ways. Then I betook myself to Bassorah, where I traded with the monies and Allah prospered me amply, to Him be the praise and the thanks! So, if I give thee every year a thousand dinars of the bounty of Ja’afar, it will in no wise injure me. Consider then the munificence of Ja’afar’s nature and how he was praised both alive and dead, the mercy of Allah Almighty be upon him! And men also recount the tale of
1 There are many accounts of his death, but it is generally held that he was first beheaded. The story in the text is also variously told and the Persian “Nigáristán” adds some unpleasant comments upon the House of Abbas. The Persians, for reasons which will be explained in the terminal-Essay, show the greatest sympathy with the Barmecides; and abominate the Abbasides even more than the latter detested the Ommiades.
2 Not written, as the European reader would suppose.
3 Arab. “Fúl al-hárr” = beans like horsebeans soaked and boiled as opposed to the “Fúl Mudammas” (esp. of Egypt)=unshelled beans steamed and boiled all night and eaten with linseed oil as “kitchen” or relish. Lane (M.E., chaps. v.) calls them after the debased Cairene pronunciation, Mudemmes. A legend says that, before the days of Pharaoh (always he of Moses), the Egyptians lived on pistachios which made them a witty, lively race. But the tyrant remarking that the domestic ass, which eats beans, is degenerate from the wild ass, uprooted the pistachio-trees and compelled the lieges to feed on beans which made them a heavy, gross, cowardly people fit only for burdens. Badawis deride “beaneaters” although they do not loathe the pulse like onions. The principal-result of a bean diet is an extraordinary development of flatulence both in stomach and intestines: hence possibly, Pythagoras who had studied ceremonial-purity in Egypt, forbade the use, unless he referred to venery or political-business. I was once sitting in the Greek quarter of Cairo dressed as a Moslem when arose a prodigious hubbub of lads and boys, surrounding, a couple of Fellahs. These men had been working in the fields about a mile east of Cairo and, when returning home, one had said to the other, “If thou wilt carry the hoes I will break wind once for every step we take.” He was as good as his word and when they were to part he cried, “And now for thy bakhshish!” which consisted of a volley of fifty, greatly to the delight of the boys.
It is told that Harun al-Rashid was sitting one day on the throne of the Caliphate, when there came in to him a youth of his eunuchry, bearing a crown of red gold, set with pearls and rubies and all manner of other gems and jewels, such as money might not buy; and, bussing the ground between his hands, said, “O Commander of the Faithful, the Lady Zubaydah kisseth the earth before thee”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say. Whereupon quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How pleasant is thy tale and profitable; and how sweet is thy speech and how delectable!” “And where is this,” replied Shahrazad, “compared with what I shall tell you next night an I live and the King grant me leave!” Thereupon quoth the King to himself, “By Allah, I will not slay her until I hear the end of her tale.”
Quoth Dunyazad, “favour us, O my sister, with thy tale,” and she replied, ‘With joy and good will, if the King accord me leave;” whereupon the King said, “Tell thy tale, O Shahrazad.” So she pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth said to the Caliph, “The Lady Zubaydah kisseth the earth before thee and saith to thee, Thou knowest she hath bidden make this crown, which lacketh a great jewel for its dome-top; and she hath made search among her treasures, but cannot find a jewel of size to suit her mind.” Quoth the Caliph to his Chamberlains and Viceregents, Make search for a great jewel, such as Zubaydah desireth.” So they sought, but found nothing befitting her and told the Caliph who, vexed and annoyed thereat, exclaimed, “How am I Caliph and King of the Kings of the earth and cannot find so small a matter as a jewel? Woe to you! Ask of the merchants.” So they enquired of the traders, who replied, “Our lord the Caliph will not find a jewel such as he requireth save with a man of Bassorah, by name Abú Mohammed hight Lazybones.” Thereupon they acquainted the Caliph with this and he bade his Wazir Ja’afar send a note to the Emir Mohammed al-Zubaydí, Governor of Bassorah, commanding him to equip Abu Mohammed Lazybones and bring him into the presence of the Commander of the Faithful. The Minister accordingly wrote a note to that effect and despatched it by Masrur, who set out forthright for the city of Bassorah, and went in to the Emir Mohammed al-Zubaydi, who rejoiced in him and treated him with the high-most honour. Then Masrur read him the mandate of the Prince of True Believers, Harun al-Rashid, to which he replied, “I hear and I obey,” and forthwith despatched him, with a company of his followers, to Abu Mohammed’s house. When they reached it, they knocked at the door, whereupon a page came out and Masrur said to him, “Tell thy lord, The Commander of the Faithful summoneth thee.” The servant went in and told his master, who came out and found Masrur, the Caliph’s Chamberlain, and a company of the Governor’s men at the door. So he kissed ground before Masrur and said, “I hear and obey the summons of the Commander of the Faithful; but first enter ye my house.” They replied, “We cannot do that, save in haste; even as the Prince of True Believers commanded us, for he awaiteth thy coming.” But he said, “Have patience with me a little, till I set my affairs in order.” So after much pressure and abundant persuasion, they entered the house with him and found the vestibule hung with curtains of azure brocade, purfled with red gold, and Abu Mohammed Lazybones bade one of his servants carry Masrur to the private Hammam. Now this bath was in the house and Masrur found its walls and floors of rare and precious marbles, wrought with gold and silver, and its waters mingled with rose-water. Then the servants served Masrur and his company with the perfection of service; and, on their going forth of the Hammam, clad them in robes of honour, brocade-work interwoven with gold. And after leaving the bath Masrur and his men went in to Abu Mohammed Lazybones and found him seated in his upper chamber; and over his head hung curtains of gold-brocade, wrought with pearls and jewels, and the pavilion was spread with cushions, embroidered in red gold. Now the owner was sitting softly upon a quilted cloth covering a settee inlaid with stones of price; and, when he saw Masrur, he went forward to meet him and bidding him welcome, seated him by his side. Then he called for the food-trays; so they brought them, and when Masrur saw the tables, he exclaimed, “By Allah, never did I behold the like of these appointments in the palace of the Commander of the Faithful!” For indeed the trays contained every manner of meat all served in dishes of gilded porcelain.1 “So we ate and drank and made merry till the end of the day (quoth Masrur) when the host gave to each and every of us five thousand dinars, and on the morrow he clad us in dresses of honour of green and gold and entreated us with the utmost worship.” Then said Masrur to him, “We can tarry no longer for fear of the Caliph’s displeasure.” Answered Abu Mohammed Lazybones, “O my lord, have patience with us till the morrow, that we may equip ourselves, and we will then depart with you.” So they tarried with him that day and slept the night; and next morning Abu Mohammed’s servants saddled him a she mule with selle and trappings of gold, set with all manner of pearls and stones of price; whereupon quoth Masrur to himself, “I wonder, when Abu Mohammed shall present himself in such equipage, if the Caliph will ask him how he came by all this wealth.” Thereupon they took leave of Al–Zubaydi and, setting out from Bassorah, fared on, without ceasing to fare till they reached Baghdad-city and presented themselves before the Caliph, who bade Abu Mohammed be seated. He sat down and addressed the Caliph in courtly phrase, saying, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have brought with me an humble offering by way of homage: have I thy gracious permission to produce it?” Al–Rashid replied, “There is no harm in that,”2 whereupon Abu Mohammed bade his men bring in a chest, from which he took a number of rarities, and amongst the rest, trees of gold with leaves of white emeraid,3 and fruits of pigeon blood rubies and topazes and new pearls and bright. And as the Caliph was struck with admiration he fetched a second chest and brought out of it a tent of brocade, crowned with pearls and jacinths and emeralds and jaspers and other precious stones; its poles were of freshly cut Hindi aloes-wood, and its skirts were set with the greenest smaragds. Thereon were depicted all manner of animals such as beasts and birds, spangled with precious stones, rubies, emeralds, chrysolites and balasses and every kind of precious metal. Now when Al–Rashid saw these things, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and Abu Mohammed Lazybones said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, deem not that I have brought these to thee, fearing aught or coveting anything; but I knew myself to be but a man of the people and that such things befitted none save the Commander of the Faithful. And now, with thy leave, I will show thee, for thy diversion, something of what I can do.” Al–Rashid replied, “Do what thou wilt, that we may see.” “To hear is to obey,” said Abu Mohammed and, moving his lips, beckoned the palace battlements,4 whereupon they inclined to him; then he made another sign to them, and they returned to their place. Presently he made a sign with his eye, and there appeared before him closets with closed doors, to which he spoke, and lo! the voices of birds answered him from within. The Caliph marvelled with passing marvel at this and said to him, “How camest thou by all this, seeing that thou art known only as Abu Mohammed Lazybones, and they tell me that thy father was a cupper serving in a public Hammam, who left thee nothing?” Whereupon he answered, “Listen to my story” And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 No porcelain was ever, as far as we can discover, made in Egypt or Syria of the olden day; but, as has been said, there was a regular caravan-intercourse with China At Damascus I dug into the huge rubbish-heaps and found quantities of pottery, but no China. The same has lately been done at Clysma, the artificial-mound near Suez, and the glass and pottery prove it to have been a Roman work which defended the mouth of the old classical-sweet-water canal.
2 Arab. “Lá baas ba-zálik,” conversational-for “Lá jaram”= there is no harm in it, no objection to it, and, sometimes, “it is a matter of course.”
3 A white emerald is yet unknown; but this adds only to the Oriental-extravagance of the picture. I do not think with Lane (ii. 426) that “abyaz” here can mean “bright.” Dr. Steingass suggests a clerical-error for “khazar” (green).
4 Arab. “Sharárif” plur. of Shurráfah=crenelles or battlements; mostly trefoil-shaped; remparts coquets which a six-pounder would crumble.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu Mohammed Lazybones thus spake to the Caliph: “O Prince of True Believers, listen to my story, for it is a marvellous and its particulars are wondrous; were it graven with graver-needles upon the eye-corners it were a warner to whose would be warned.” Quoth Al–Rashid, “Let us hear all thou hast to say, O Abu Mohammed!” So he began “Know then, O Commander of the Faithful (Allah prolong to thee glory and dominion!), the report of the folk; that I am known as the Lazybones and that my father left me nothing, is true; for he was, as thou hast said, nothing but a barber-cupper in a Hammam. And I throughout my youth was the idlest wight on the face of the earth; indeed, so great was my sluggishness that, if I lay at full length in the sultry season and the sun came round upon me, I was too lazy to rise and remove from the sun to the shade. And thus I abode till I reached my fifteenth year, when my father deceased in the mercy of Allah Almighty and left me nothing. However, my mother used to go out a-charing and feed me and give me to drink, whilst I lay on my side. Now it came to pass that one day she came in to me with five silver dirhams, and said to me, ‘O my son, I hear that Shaykh Abú al-Muzaffar1 is about to go a voyage to China.’ (Now this Shaykh was a good and charitable man who loved the poor.) ‘So come, my son, take these five silver bits; and let us both carry them to him and beg him to buy thee therewith somewhat from the land of China; so haply thou mayst make a profit of it by the bounty of Allah, whose name be exalted!’ I was too idle to move for her; but she swore by the Almighty that, except I rose and went with her, she would bring me neither meat nor drink nor come in to me, but would leave me to die of hunger and thirst. Now when I heard her words, O Commander of the Faithful, I knew she would do as she threatened for her knowledge of my sluggishness; so I said to her, ‘Help me to sit up.’ She did so, and I wept the while and said to her, ‘Bring me my shoes.’ Accordingly, she brought them and I said, ‘Put them on my feet.’ She put them on my feet and I said, ‘Lift me up off the ground.’ So she lifted me up and I said, ‘Support me, that I may walk.’ So she supported me and I continued to fare a foot, at times stumbling over my skirts, till we came to the river bank, where we saluted the Shaykh and I said to him, ‘O my uncle, art thou Abu al-Muzaffar?’ ‘At thy service,’ answered he, and I, ‘Take these dirhams and with them buy me somewhat from the land of China: haply Allah may vouchsafe me a profit of it.’ Quoth the Shaykh to his companions, ‘Do ye know this youth?’ They answered, ‘Yes, he is known as Abu Mohammed Lazybones, and we never saw him stir from his house till this moment.’ Then said he to me, ‘O my son, give me the silver with the blessing of Almighty Allah!’ So he took the money, saying, ‘Bismillah in the name of Allah!’ and I returned home with my mother. Presently Shaykh Abu al-Muzaffar set sail, with a company of merchants, and stayed not till they reached the land of China, where he and his bought and sold; and, having won what they wished, set out on their homeward voyage. When they had been three days at sea, the Shaykh said to his company, ‘Stay the vessel!’ They asked, ‘What dost thou want?’ and he answered, ‘Know that I have forgotten the commission wherewith Abu Mohammed Lazybones charged me; so let us turn back that we may lay out his money on somewhat whereby he may profit.’ They cried, ‘We conjure thee, by Allah Almighty turn not back with us; for we have traversed a long distance and a sore, and while so doing we have endured sad hardship and many terrors.’ Quoth he, ‘There is no help for it but we return;’ and they said, ‘Take from us double the profit of the five dirhams, and turn us not back.’ He agreed to this and they collected for him an ample sum of money. Thereupon they sailed on, till they came to an island wherein was much people; when they moored thereto and the merchants went ashore, to buy thence a stock of precious metals and pearls and jewels and so forth. Presently Abu al-Muzaffar saw a man seated, with many apes before him, and amongst them one whose hair had been plucked off; and as often as their owner’s attention was diverted from them, the other apes fell upon the plucked one and beat him and threw him on their master; whereupon the man rose and bashed them and bound them and punished them for this; and all the apes were wroth with the plucked ape on this account and funded him the more. When Shaykh Abu al-Muzaffar saw this, he felt for and took compassion upon the plucked ape and said to his master, ‘Wilt thou sell me yonder monkey?’ Replied the man, ‘Buy,’ and Abu al-Muzaffar rejoined, ‘I have with me five dirhams, belonging to an orphan lad. Wilt thou sell it me for that sum?’ Answered the monkey-merchant, ‘It is a bargain; and Allah give thee a blessing of him!’ So he made over the beast and received his money; and the Shaykh’s slaves took the ape and tied him up in the ship. Then they loosed sail and made for another island, where they cast anchor; and there came down divers, who plunged for precious stones, pearls and other gems; so the merchants hired them to dive for money and they dived. Now when the ape saw them doing this, he loosed himself from his bonds and, jumping off the ship’s side, plunged with them, whereupon quoth Abu al-Muzaffar, ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! The monkey is lost to us with the luck of the poor fellow for whom we bought him.’ And they despaired of him; but, after a while, the company of divers rose to the surface, and behold, among them was the ape, with his hands full of jewels of price, which he threw down before Abu al-Muzaffar. The Shaykh marvelled at this and said, ‘There is much mystery in this monkey!’ Then they cast off and sailed till they came to a third island, called the Isle of the Zunúj,2 who are a people of the blacks, which eat the flesh of the sons of Adam. When the blacks saw them, they boarded them in dug-outs3 and, taking all in the vessel, pinioned them and carried them to their King, who bade slaughter certain of the merchants. So they slaughtered them by cutting their throats and ate their flesh; and the rest of the traders passed the night in bonds and were in sore concern. But when it was midnight, the ape arose and going up to Abu al-Muzaffar, loosed his bonds; and, as the others saw him free, they said, ‘Allah grant our deliverance may be at thy hands, O Abu al-Muzaffar!’ But he replied, ‘Know that he who delivered me, by leave of Allah Almighty, was none other than this monkey’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Pronounce Abul–Muzaffar=Father of the Conqueror.
2 I have explained the word in my “Zanzibar, City, Island and Coast,” vol. i. chaps. v There is still a tribe, the Wadoe, reputed cannibal-on the opposite low East African shore These blacks would hardly be held “ sons of Adam.” “Zanj “ corrupted to “Zinj “ (plur Zunúj) is the Persian “Zany” or “Zangi,” a black, altered by the Arabs, who ignore the hard g; and, with the suffixion of the Persian — bár (region, as in Malabar) we have Zang-bar which the Arabs have converted to “Zanjibar,” in poetry “Murk al-Zunúj”=Land of the Zang. The term is old; it is the Zingis or Zingisa of Ptolemy and the Zingium of Cosmas Indicopleustes; and it shows the influence of Persian navigation in pre-Islamitic ages. For further details readers will consult “The Lake Regions of Central–Africa” vol. i. chaps. ii
3 Arab. “Kawárib” plur. of “Kárib” prop. a dinghy, a small boat belonging to a ship Here it refers to the canoe (a Carib word) pop. “dug-out” and classically “monoxyle,” a boat made of a single tree-trunk hollowed by fire and trimmed with axe and adze. Some of these rude craft which, when manned, remind one of saturnine Caliph Omar’s “worms floating on a log of wood,” measure 60 feet long and more.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu al-Muzaffar declared, “None loosed me, by leave of Allah Al-mighty, save this monkey and I buy my release of him at a thousand dinars!” whereupon the merchants rejoined, ‘And we likewise, each and every, will pay him a thousand dinars if he release us.’ With this the ape arose and went up to them and loosed their bonds one by one, till he had freed them all, when they made for the vessel and boarding her, found all safe and nothing missing from her. So they cast off and set sail; and presently Abu al-Muzaffar said to them, ‘O merchants, fulfil your promise to the monkey.’ ‘We hear and we obey,’ answered they; and each one paid him one thousand dinars, whilst Abu al-Muzaffar brought out to him the like sum of his own monies, so that a great heap of coin was collected for the ape. Then they fared on till they reached Bassorah-city where their friends came out to meet them; and when they had landed, the Shaykh said, ‘Where is Abu Mohammed Lazybones?’ The news reached my mother, who came to me as I lay asleep and said to me, ‘O my son, verily the Shaykh Abu al-Muzaffar hath come back and is now in the city; so rise and go thou to him and salute him and enquire what he hath brought thee; it may be Allah Almighty have opened to thee the door of fortune with somewhat.’ Quoth I, ‘Lift me from the ground and prop me up, whilst I go forth and walk to the river bank.’ After which I went out and walked on, stumbling over my skirts, till I met the Shaykh, who exclaimed at sight of me, ‘Welcome to him whose money hath been the means of my release and that of these merchants, by the will of Almighty Allah.’ Then he continued, ‘Take this monkey I bought for thee and carry him home and wait till I come to thee.’ So I took the ape and went off, saying in my mind, ‘By Allah, this is naught but rare merchandise!’ and led it home, where I said to my mother, ‘Whenever I lie down to sleep, thou biddest me rise and trade; see now this merchandise with thine own eyes.’ Then I sat me down and as I sat, up came the slaves of Abu al-Muzaffar and said to me, ‘Art thou Abu Mohammed Lazybones?’ ‘Yes’ answered I; and behold, Abu al-Muzaffar appeared behind them. So I rose up to him and kissed his hands: and he said, ‘Come with me to my home.’ ‘Hearkening and obedience,’ answered I and accompanied him to his house, where he bade his servants bring me what money the monkey had earned for me. So they brought it and he said to me, ‘O my son, Allah hath blessed thee with this wealth, by way of profit on thy five dirhams.’ Then the slaves set down the treasure in chests, which they had carried on their heads, and Abu al-Muzaffar gave me the keys saying, ‘Go before the slaves to thy house; for in sooth all this wealth is thine.’ So I returned to my mother, who rejoiced in this and said to me, ‘O my son, Allah hath blessed thee with all these riches; so put off thy laziness and go down to the bazar and sell and buy.’ At once I shook off my dull sloth, and opened a shop in the bazar, where the ape used to sit on the same divan with me eating with me when I ate and drinking when I drank. But, every day, he was absent from dawn till noon, when he came back bringing with him a purse of a thousand dinars, which he laid by my side, and sat down; and he ceased not so doing for a great while, till I amassed much wealth, wherewith, O Commander of the Faithful, I purchased houses and lands, and I planted gardens and I bought me white slaves and negroes and concubines. Now it came to pass one day, as I sat in my shop, with the ape sitting at my side on the same carpet, behold, he began to turn right and left, and I said to myself, ‘What aileth the beast?’ Then Allah made the ape speak with a ready tongue, and he said to me, ‘O Abu Mohammed!’ Now when I heard him speak, I was sore afraid; but he said to me, ‘Fear not; I will tell thee my case. I am a Marid of the Jinn and came to thee because of thy poor estate; but today thou knowest not the amount of thy wealth; and now I have need of thee and if thou do my will, it shall be well for thee.’ I asked, ‘What is it?’ and he answered, ‘I have a mind to marry thee to a girl like the full moon.’ Quoth I, ‘How so?’; and quoth he, ‘Tomorrow don thou thy richest dress and mount thy mule, with the saddle of gold and ride to the Haymarket. There enquire for the shop of the Sharif1 and sit down beside him and say to him, ‘I come to thee as a suitor craving thy daughter’s hand.’ ‘If he say to thee, ‘Thou hast neither cash nor rank nor family’; pull out a thousand dinars and give them to him, and if he ask more, give him more and tempt him with money.’ Whereto I replied, ‘To hear is to obey; I will do thy bidding, Inshallah!’ So on the next morning I donned my richest clothes, mounted my she mule with trappings of gold and rode to the Haymarket where I asked for the Sharif’s shop, and finding him there seated, alighted and saluted him and seated myself beside him”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. A descendant of Mohammed in general-and especially through Husayn Ali-son. Here the text notes that the chief of the bazar was of this now innumerable stock, who inherit the title through the mother as well as through the father.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu Mohammed Lazybones continued: “So I alighted and, saluting him, seated myself beside him, and my Mamelukes and negro-slaves stood before me. Said the Sharif, ‘Haply, thou hast some business with us which we may have pleasure of transacting?’ Replied I, ‘Yes, I have business with thee.’ Asked he, ‘And what is it?’; and I answered, ‘I come to thee as a suitor for thy daughter’s hand.’ So he said, ‘Thou hast neither cash nor rank nor family;’ whereupon I pulled him out a purse of a thousand dinars, red gold, and said to him, ‘This is my rank1 and my family; and he (whom Allah bless and keep!) hath said, The best of ranks is wealth. And how well quoth the poet,
‘Whoso two dithams hath, his lips have learnt
Speech of all kinds with eloquence bedight:
Draw near2 his brethren and crave ear of him,
And him thou seest haught in pride-full height:
Were ‘t not for dirhams wherein glories he,
Hadst found him ’mid man kind in sorry plight.
When richard errs in words they all reply,
“Sooth thou hast spoken and hast said aright!”
When pauper speaketh truly all reply
‘Thou liest;’ and they hold his sayings light.3
Verily dirhams in earth’s every stead
Clothe men with rank and make them fair to sight
Gold is the very tongue of eloquence;
Gold is the best of arms for might who’d fight!’
Now when the Sharif heard these my words and understood my verse, he bowed his head awhile groundwards then raising it, said, ‘If it must be so, I will have of thee other three thousand gold pieces.’ ‘I hear and I obey,’ answered I, and sent one of my Mamelukes home for the money. As soon as he came back with it, I handed it to the Sharif who, when he saw it in his hands, rose, and bidding his servants shut his shop, invited his brother merchants of the bazar the wedding; after which he carried me to his house and wrote out my contract of marriage with his daughter saying to me, ‘After ten days, I will bring thee to pay her the first visit.’ So I went home rejoicing and, shutting myself up with the ape, told him what had passed; and he said ‘Thou hast done well.’ Now when the time appointed by the Sharif drew near, the ape said to me, ‘There is a thing I would have thee do for me; and thou shalt have of me (when it is done) whatso thou wilt.’ I asked, ‘What is that?’ and he answered, ‘At the upper end of the chamber wherein thou shalt meet thy bride, the Sharif’s daughter, stands a cabinet, on whose door is a ring-padlock of copper and the keys under it. Take the keys and open the cabinet in which thou shalt find a coffer of iron with four flags, which are talismans, at its corners; and in its midst stands a brazen basin full of money, wherein is tied a white cock with a cleft comb; while on one side of the coffer are eleven serpents and on the other a knife. Take the knife and slaughter the cock; cut away the flags and upset the chest, then go back to the bride and do away her maidenhead. This is what I have to ask of thee.’ ‘Hearkening and obedience,’ answered I, and betook myself to the house of the Sharif. So as soon as I entered the bride-chamber, I looked for the cabinet and found it even as the ape had described it. Then I went in unto the bride and marvelled at her beauty and loveliness and stature and symmetrical-grace, for indeed they were such as no tongue can set forth. I rejoiced in her with exceeding joy; and in the middle of the night, when my bride slept, I rose and, taking the keys, opened the cabinet. Then I seized the knife and slew the cock and threw down the flags and upset the coffer, whereupon the girl awoke and, seeing the closet open and the cock with cut throat, exclaimed, ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! The Marid hath got hold of me!’ Hardly had she made an end of speaking, when the Marid swooped down upon the house and, snatching up the bride, flew away with her; whereupon there arose a mighty clamour and behold, in came the Sharif, buffetting his face and crying, ‘O Abu Mohammed, what is this deed thou hast done? Is it thus thou requiitest us? I made this talisman in the cabinet fearing for my daughter from this accursed one who, for these six years, hath sought to steal-away the girl, but could not. But now there is no more abiding for thee with us, so wend thy ways.’ Thereupon I went forth and returned to my own house, where I made search for the ape but could not find him nor any trace of him; whereby I knew that it was he who was the Marid, and that he had carried off my wife and had tricked me into destroying the talisman and the cock, the two things which hindered him from taking her, and I repented, rending my raiment and cuffing my face. And there was no land but was straitened upon me; so I made for the desert forthright and ceased not wandering on till night overtook me, for I knew not whither I was going. And whilst I was deep in sad thought behold, I met two serpents, one tawny and the other white, and they were fighting to kill each other. So I took up a stone and with one cast slew the tawny serpent, which was the aggressor; whereupon the white serpent glided away and was absent for a while, but presently she returned accompanied by ten other white serpents which glided up to the dead serpent and tore her in pieces, so that only the head was left. Then they went their ways and I fell prostrate for weariness on the ground where I stood; but as I lay, pondering my case lo! I heard a Voice though I saw no one and the Voice versified with these two couplets,
‘Let Fate with slackened bridle fare her pace,
Nor pass the night with mind which cares an ace
Between eye-closing and its opening,
Allah can foulest change to fairest case.’
Now when I heard this, O Commander of the Faithful, great concern get hold of me and I was beyond measure troubled, and behold, I heard a Voice from behind me extemporise these couplets,
‘O Moslem! thou whose guide is Alcorán,
Joy in what brought safe peace to thee, O man.
Fear not what Satan haply whispered thee,
And in us see a Truth-believing
Then said I, ‘I conjure thee, by the truth of Him thou wore shippest, let me know who thou art!’ Thereupon the Invisible Speaker assumed the form of a man and said, ‘Fear not; for the report of thy good deed hath reached us, and we are a people of the true-believing Jinn. So, if thou lack aught, let us know it that we may have the pleasure of fulfilling thy want.’ Quoth I, ‘Indeed I am in sore need, for I am afflicted with a grievous affliction and no one was ever afflicted as I am!’ Quoth he, ‘Perchance thou art Abu Mohammed Lazybones?’ and I replied, ‘Yes.’ He rejoined, ‘I, O Abu Mohammed, am the brother of the white serpent, whose foe thou slewest, we are four brothers by one father and mother, and we are all indebted to thee for thy kindness. And know thou that he who played this trick on thee in the likeness of an ape, is a Marid of the Marids of the Jinn; and had he not used this artifice, he had never been able to get the girl; for he hath loved her and had a mind to take her this long while, but he was hindered of that talisman; and had it remained as it was, he could never have found access to her. However, fret not thyself for that; we will bring thee to her and kill the Marid; for thy kindness is not lost upon us.’ Then he cried out with a terrible outcry”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Hasab” (=quaneity), the honour a man acquires for himself; opposed to “Nasab” (genealogy) honours inherited from ancestry: the Arabic well expresses my old motto (adopted by Chinese Gordon),
“Honour, not Honours.”
2 Note the difference between “Takaddum” ( = standing in presence of, also superiority in excellence) and “Takádum” (priority in time).
3 Lane (ii. 427) gives a pleasant Eastern illustration of this saying.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifrit continued, “‘Verily thy kindness is not lost upon us.’ Then he cried out with a terrible outcry in a horrible voice, and behold, there appeared a troop of the Jinn, of whom he enquired concerning the ape; and one of them said, ‘I know his abiding-place;’ and the other asked ‘Where abideth he?’ Said the speaker ‘He is in the City of Brass whereon sun riseth not.’ Then said the first Jinni to me, ‘O Abu Mohammed, take one of these our slaves, and he will carry thee on his back and teach thee how thou shalt get back the girl; but know that this slave is a Marid of the Marids and beware, whilst he is carrying thee, lest thou utter the name of Allah, or he will flee from thee and thou wilt fall and be destroyed.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered I and chose out one of the slaves, who bent down and said to me, ‘Mount.’ So I mounted on his back, and he flew up with me into the firmament, till I lost sight of the earth and saw the stars as they were the mountains of earth fixed and firm1 and heard the angels crying, ‘Praise be to Allah,’ in heaven while the Marid held me in converse, diverting me and hindering me from pronouncing the name of Almighty Allah.2 But, as we flew, behold, One clad in green raiment,3 with streaming tresses and radiant face, holding in his hand a javelin whence flew sparks of fire, accosted me, saying, ‘O Abu Mohammed, say:— There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God; or I will smite thee with this javelin.’ Now already I felt heart-broken by my forced silence as regards calling on the name of Allah; so I said, ‘There is no god but the God, and Mohammed is the Apostle of God. Whereupon the shining One smote the Marid with his javelin and he melted away and became ashes; whilst I was thrown from his back and fell headlong towards the earth, till I dropped into the midst of a dashing sea, swollen with clashing surge. And behold I fell hard by a ship with five sailors therein, who seeing me, made for me and took me up into the vessel; and they began to speak to me in some speech I knew not; but I signed to them that I understood not their speech. So they fared on till the last of the day, when they cast out a net and caught a great fish and they broiled it and gave me to eat; after which they ceased not sailing on till they reached their city and carried me to their King and set me in his presence. So I kissed ground before him, and he bestowed on me a dress of honour and said to me in Arabic (which he knew well), ‘I appoint thee one of my officers.’ Thereupon I asked him the name of the city, and he replied, ‘It is called Hanád4 and is in the land of China.’ Then he committed me to his Wazir, bidding him show me the city, which was formerly peopled by Infidels, till Almighty Allah turned them into stones; and there I abode a month’s space, diverting myself with viewing the place, nor saw I ever greater plenty of trees and fruits than there. And when this time had past, one day, as I sat on the bank of a river, behold, there accosted me a horseman, who said to me, ‘Art thou not Abu Mohammed Lazybones?’ ‘Yes,’ answered I; whereupon, he said, ‘Fear not, for the report of thy good deed hath reached us.’ Asked I, ‘Who art thou?’ and he answered, ‘I am a brother of the white serpent, and thou art hard by the place where is the damsel whom thou seekest.’ So saying, he took off his clothes and clad me therein, saying, ‘Fear not, for the slave who perished under thee was one of our slaves.’ Then the horseman took me up behind him and rode on with me to a desert place, when he said, ‘Dismount now and walk on between these two mountains, till thou seest the City of Brass;5 then halt afar off and enter it not, ere I return to thee and tell thee how thou shalt do.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ replied I and, dismounting from behind him, walked on till I came to the city, the walls whereof I found of brass. Then I began to pace round about it, hoping to find a gate, but found none; and presently as I persevered, behold, the serpent’s brother rejoined me and gave me a charmed sword which should hinder any from seeing me,6 then went his way. Now he had been gone but a little while, when lo! I heard a noise of cries and found myself in the midst of a multitude of folk whose eyes were in their breasts; and seeing me quoth they, ‘Who art thou and what cast thee into this place?’ So I told them my story, and they said, ‘The girl thou seekest is in this city with the Marid; but we know not what he hath done with her. Now we are brethren of the white serpent,’ adding, ‘Go thou to yonder spring and note where the water entereth, and enter thou with it; for it will bring thee into the city.’ I did as they bade me, and followed the water-course, till it brought me to a Sardab, a vaulted room under the earth, from which I ascended and found myself in the midst of the city. Here I saw the damsel seated upon a throne of gold, under a canopy of brocade, girt round by a garden full of trees of gold, whose fruits were jewels of price, such as rubies and chrysolites, pearls and coral. And the moment she saw me, she knew me and accosted me with the Moslem salutation, saying, ‘O my lord, who guided thee hither?’ So I told her all that had passed, and she said, ‘Know, that the accursed Marid, of the greatness of his love for me, hath told me what bringeth him bane and what bringeth him gain; and that there is here a talisman by means whereof he could, an he would, destroy the city and all that are therein; and whoso possesseth it, the Ifrits will do his commandment in everything. It standeth upon a pillar’— Whereat I asked her, ‘And where is the pillar?’ and she answered, ‘It is in such a place.’ ‘And what manner of thing may the talisman be?’ said I: said she, ‘It is in the semblance of a vulture7 and upon it is a writing which I cannot read. So go thou thither and seize it, and set it before thee and, taking a chafing dish, throw into it a little musk, whereupon there will arise a smoke which will draw the Ifrits to thee, and they will all present themselves before thee, nor shall one be absent; also they shall be subject to thy word and, whatsoever thou biddest them, that will they do. Arise therefore and fall to this thing, with the blessing of Almighty Allah.’ I answered, ‘Hearkening and obedience’ and, going to the column, did as she bade me, where-upon the Ifrits all presented themselves before me saying, ‘Here are we, O our lord! Whatsoever thou biddest us, that will we do.’ Quoth I, ‘Bind the Marid who brought the damsel hither from her home.’ Quoth they, ‘We hear and obey,’ and off they flew and bound that Marid in straitest bonds and returned after a while, saying, ‘We have done thy bidding.’ Then I dismissed them and, repairing to my wife, told her what had happened and said to her, ‘O my bride, wilt thou go with me?’ ‘Yes,’ answered she. So I carried her forth of the vaulted chamber whereby I had entered the city and we fared on, till we fell in with the folk who had shown me the way to find her.” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A Koranic fancy; the mountains being the pegs which keep the earth in place. “And he hath thrown before the earth, mountains firmly rooted, lest it should move with you.” (Koran, chaps. xvi.) The earth when first created was smooth and thereby liable to a circular motion, like the celestial-orbs; and, when the Angels asked who could stand on so tottering a frame, Allah fixed it the next morning by throwing the mountains in it and pegging them down. A fair prolepsis of the Neptunian theory.
2 Easy enough for an Englishman to avoid saying “by God,” but this common incident in Moslem folk-lore appeals to the peoples who are constantly using the word Allah Wallah, Billah, etc. The Koran expressly says, “Make not Allah the scope (object, lit. arrow-butt) of your oaths” (chaps. ii. 224), yet the command is broken every minute.
3 This must be the ubiquitous Khizr, the Green Prophet; when Ali appears, as a rule he is on horseback.
4 The name is apparently imaginary; and a little below we find that it was close to Jinn land. China was very convenient for this purpose: the medieval-Moslems, who settled in considerable numbers at Canton and elsewhere, knew just enough of it to know their own ignorance of the vast empire. Hence the Druzes of the Libanus still hold that part of their nation is in the depths of the Celestial–Empire.
5 I am unwilling to alter the old title to “City of Copper” as it should be; the pure metal having been technologically used long before the alloy of copper and zinc. But the Maroccan City (Night dlxvi. et seq.) was of brass (not copper). The Hindus of Upper India have an Iram which they call Hari Chand’s city (Colonel Tod); and I need hardly mention the Fata Morgana, Island of Saint Borondon; Cape Fly-away; the Flying Dutchman, etc. etc., all the effect of “looming.”
6 This sword which makes men invisible and which takes place of Siegfried’s Tarnkappe (invisible cloak) and of “Fortunatus’ cap” is common in Moslem folk-lore. The idea probably arose from the venerable practice of inscribing the blades with sentences, verses and magic figures.
7 Arab. “‘Ukáb,” in books an eagle (especially black) and P. N. of constellation but in Pop. usage= a vulture. In Egypt it is the Neophron Percnopterus (Jerdon) or N. Gingianus (Latham), the Dijájat Far’aun or Pharaoh’s hen. This bird has been known to kill the Báshah sparrow-hawk (Jerdon i. 60); yet, curious to say, the reviewers of my “Falconry in the Valley of the Indus” questioned the fact, known to so many travellers, that the falcon is also killed by this “tiger of the air,” despite the latter’s feeble bill (pp. 35–38). I was faring badly at their hands when the late Mr. Burckhardt Barker came to the rescue. Falconicide is popularly attributed, not only to the vulture, but also to the crestless hawk-eagle (Nisætus Bonelli) which the Hindus call Morángá=peacock slayer.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that he continued on this wise: “And we fared on till we fell in with the folk who had shown me the way to her. So I said to them, ‘Point me out a path which shall lead me to my home,’ and they did accordingly, and brought us a-foot to the sea-shore and set us aboard a vessel which sailed on before us with a fair wind, till we reached Bassorah-city. And when we entered the house of my father-in-law and her people saw my wife, they rejoiced with exceeding joy. Then I fumigated the vulture with musk and lo! the Ifrits flocked to me from all sides, saying, ‘At thy service what wilt thou have us do?’ So I bade them transport all that was in the City of Brass of monies and noble metals and stones of price to my house in Bassorah, which they did; and I then ordered them to bring me the ape. They brought him before me, abject and contemptible, and I said to him, ‘O accursed, why hast thou dealt thus perfidiously with me?’ Then I com mended the Ifrits to shut him in a brazen vessel1 so they put him in a brazen cucurbite and sealed it with lead. But I abode with my wife in joy and delight; and now, O Commander of the Faithful, I have under my hand precious things in such measure and rare jewels and other treasure and monies on such wise as neither reckoning may express nor may limits comprise; and, if thou lust after wealth or aught else, I will command the Jinn at once to do thy desire. But all this is of the bounty of Almighty Allah.” Thereupon the Commander of the Faithful wondered greatly and bestowed on him imperial gifts, in exchange for his presents, and entreated him with the favour he deserved.
1 Here I translate “Nahás”=brass, as the “kumkum” (cucurbite) is made of mixed metal, not of copper.
And men also tell the tale of the
It is told that Harun al-Rashid, in the days before he became jealous of the Barmecides, sent once for one of his guards, Salih by name, and said to him, “O Sálih, go to Mansúr1 and say to him: ‘Thou owest us a thousand thousand dirhams and we require of thee immediate payment of this amount.’ And I command thee, O Salih, unless he pay it between this hour and sundown, sever his head from his body and bring it to me.” “To hear is to obey,” answered Salih and, going to Mansur, acquainted him with what the Caliph had said, whereupon quoth he, “I am a lost man, by Allah; for all my estate and all my hand owneth, if sold for their utmost value, would not fetch a price of more than an hundred thousand dirhams. Whence then, O Salih, shall I get the other nine hundred thousand?” Salih replied, “Contrive how thou mayst speedily acquit thyself, else thou art a dead man; for I cannot grant thee an eye-twinkling of delay after the time appointed me by the Caliph; nor can I fail of aught which the Prince of True Believers hath enjoined on me. Hasten, therefore, to devise some means of saving thyself ere the time expire.” Quoth Mansur, “O Salih, I beg thee of thy favour to bring me to my house, that I may take leave of my children and family and give my kinsfolk my last injunctions.” Now Salih relateth: “So I went with him to his house where he fell to bidding his family farewell, and the house was filled with a clamour of weeping and lamentations and calling for help on Almighty Allah. Thereupon I said to him, ‘I have bethought me that Allah may haply vouchsafe thee relief at the hands of the Barmecides. Come, let us go to the house of Yáhyá bin Khálid.’ So we went to Yahya’s house, and Mansur told him his case, whereat he was sore concerned and bowed him groundwards for a while, then raising his head, he called his treasurer and said to him, ‘How much have we in our treasury?’ ‘A matter of five thousand dirhams,’ answered the treasurer, and Yahya bade him bring them and sent a messenger to his son, Al–Fazl, saying, ‘I am offered for sale a splendid estate which may never be laid waste; so send me somewhat of money.’ Al–Fazl sent him a thousand thousand dirhams, and he despatched a mes senger with a like message to his son Ja’afar, saying, ‘We have a matter of much moment and for it we want money;’ whereupon Ja’afar at once sent him a thousand thousand dirhams; nor did Yahya leave sending to his kinsmen of the Barmecides, till he had collected from them a great sum of money for Mansur. But Salih and the debtor knew not of this; and Mansur said to Yahya, ‘O my lord, I have laid hold upon thy skirt, for I know not whither to look for the money but to thee, in accordance with thy wonted generosity; so discharge thou the rest of my debt for me and make me thy freed slave.’ Thereupon Yahya hung down his head and wept; then he said to a page, ‘Harkye, boy, the Commander of the Faithful gave our slave- girl Danánír a jewel of great price: go thou to her and bid her send it to us.’ The page went out and presently returned with the jewel, whereupon quoth Yahya, ‘O Mansur, I bought this jewel of the merchant for the Commander of the Faithful, at a price of two hundred thousand dinars,2 and he gave it to our slave-girl Dananir, the lute-player; and when he sees it with thee, he will know it and spare thy blood and do thee honour for our sake; and now, O Mansur, verily thy money is complete.’ (Salih continued) So I took the money and the jewel and carried them to al-Rashid together with Mansur, but on the way I heard him repeat this couplet, applying it to his own case,
‘’Twas not of love that fared my feet to them;
’Twas that I feared me lest they shoot their shafts!’
Now when I heard this, I marvelled at his evil nature and his depravity and mischief-making and his ignoble birth and provenance and, turning upon him, I said, ‘There is none on the face of the earth better or more righteous than the Barmecides, nor any baser nor more wrongous than thou; for they bought thee off from death and delivered thee from destruction, giving thee what should save thee; yet thou thankest them not nor praises” them, neither acquittest thee after the manner of the noble; nay, thou meetest their benevolence with this speech.’ Then I went to Al–Rashid and acquainted him with all that had passed” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Salih con tinued: “So I acquainted the Commander of the Faithful with all that passed and Al–Rashid marvelled at the generosity and benevolence of Yahya and the vileness and ingratitude of Mansur, and bade restore the jewel to Yahya, saying, ‘Whatso we have given it befitteth us not to take again.’ After that Salih returned to Yahya and acquainted him with the tale of Mansur and his ill-conduct; whereupon replied he, ‘O Salih, when a man is in want, sick at heart and sad of thought, he is not to be blamed for aught that falleth from him; for it cometh not from the heart;’ and on this wise he took to seeking excuse for Mansur. But Salih wept and exclaimed, ‘Never shall the revolving heavens bring forth into being the like of thee, O Yahya! Alas, and well-away, that one of such noble nature and generosity should be laid in the dust!’ And he repeated these two couplets,
‘Haste to do kindness thou cost intend;
Thou canst not always on boons expend:
How many from bounty themselves withheld,
Till means of bounty had come to end!’”
And men tell another tale of the
There was between Yáhyá bin Khálid and Abdullah bin Málik al- Khuzá‘i,1 an enmity which they kept secret; the reason of the hatred being that Harun al-Rashid loved Abdullah with exceeding love, so that Yahya and his sons were wont to say that he had bewitched the Commander of the Faithful. And thus they abode a long while, with rancour in their hearts, till it fell out that the Caliph invested Abdullah with the government of Armenia2 and despatched him thither. Now soon after he had settled himself in his seat of government, there came to him one of the people of Irak, a man of good breeding and excellent parts and abundant cleverness; but he had lost his money and wasted his wealth and his estate was come to ill case; so he forged a letter to Abdullah bin Malik in the name of Yahya bin Khálid and set out therewith for Armenia. Now when he came to the Governor’s gate, he gave the letter to one of the Chamberlains, who took it and carried it to his master. Abdullah opened it and read it and, considering it attentively, knew it to be forged; so he sent for the man, who presented himself before him and called down blessings upon him and praised him and those of his court. Quoth Abdullah to him, “What moved thee to weary thyself on this wise and bring me a forged letter? But be of good heart; for we will not disappoint thy travail.” Replied the other, “Allah prolong the life of our lord the Wazir! If my coming annoy thee, cast not about for a pretext to repel me, for Allah’s earth is wide and He who giveth daily bread still liveth. Indeed, the letter I bring thee from Yahya bin Khalid is true and no forgery.” Quoth Abdullah, “I will write a letter to my agent3 at Baghdad and command him enquire concerning this same letter. If it be true, as thou sayest, and genuine and not forged by thee, I will bestow on thee the Emirship of one of my cities; or, if thou prefer a present, I will give thee two hundred thousand dirhams, besides horses and camels of price and a robe of honour. But, if the letter prove a forgery, I will order thou be beaten with two hundred blows of a stick and thy beard be shaven.” So Abdullah bade confine him in a chamber and furnish him therein with all he needed, till his case should be made manifest. Then he despatched a letter to his agent at Baghdad, to the following effect: “There is come to me a man with a letter purporting to be from Yahya bin Khálid. Now I have my suspicions of this letter: therefore delay thou not in the matter, but go thyself and look carefully into the case and let me have an answer with all speed, in order that we may know what is true and what is untrue.” When the letter reached Baghdad, the agent mounted at once — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Intendant of the Palace to Harun al-Rashid. The Bres. Edit. (vii. 254) begins They tell that there arose full enmity between Ja’afar Barmecide and a Sahib of Misr” (Wazir or Governor of Egypt). Lane (ii. 429) quotes to this purpose amongst Arab; historians Fakhr al-Din. (De Sacy’s Chrestomathie Arabe i., p. 26, edit. ii.)
2 Arab. “Armaníyah” which Egyptians call after their mincing fashion “Irminiyeh” hence “Ermine” (Mus Ponticus). Armaniyah was much more extensive than our Armenia, now degraded to a mere province of Turkey, and the term is understood to include the whole of the old Parthian Empire.
3 Even now each Pasha-governor must keep a “Wakíl” in Constantinople to intrigue and bribe for him at head-quarters.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the agent of Abdullah, son of Malik al-Khuza’i, on receipt of the letter at Baghdad, mounted at once and repaired to the house of Yahya bin Khálid, whom he found sitting with his officers and boon- companions. After the usual salute he gave him the letter and Yahya read it and said to the agent, “Come back to me tomorrow for my written answer.” Now when the agent had gone away, Yahya turned to his companions and said, “What doth he deserve who forgeth a letter in my name and carrieth it to my foe?” They answered all and each, saying this and that, and every one proposing some kind of punishment; but Yahya said, “Ye err in that ye say and this your counsel is of the baseness of your spirits and the meanness of your minds. Ye all know the close favour of Abdullah with the Caliph and ye weet of what is between him and us of anger and enmity; and now Almighty Allah hath made this man the means of reconciliation between us; and hath fitted him for such purpose and hath appointed him to quench the fire of ire in our hearts, which hath been growing these twenty years; and by his means our differences shall be adjusted. Wherefore it behoveth me to requite such man by verifying his assertion and amending his estate; so I will write him a letter to Abdullah son of Malik, praying that he may use him with increase of honour and continue to him his liberality.” Now when his companions heard what he said, they called down blessings on him and marvelled at his generosity and the greatness of his magnanimity. Then he called for paper and ink and wrote Abdullah a letter in his own hand, to the following effect: “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating’ the Compassionate! Of a truth thy letter hath reached me (Allah give thee long life!) and I am glad to hear of thy safety and am pleased to be assured of thine immunity and prosperity. It was thy thought that a certain worthy man had forged a letter in my name and that he was not the bearer of any message from the same; but the case is not so, for the letter I myself wrote, and it was no forgery; and I hope, of thy courtesy and consideration and the nobility of thy nature, that thou wilt gratify this generous and excellent man of his hope and wish, and honour him with the honour he deserveth and bring him to his desire and make him the special-object of thy favour and munificence. Whatso thou dost with him, it is to me that thou dost the kindness, and I am thankful to thee accordingly.” Then he superscribed the letter and after sealing it, delivered it to the agent, who despatched it to Abdullah. Now when the Governor read it, he was charmed with its contents, and sending for the man, said to him, “Whichever of the two promised boons is the more acceptable to thee that will I give thee.” The man replied, “The money gift were more acceptable to me than aught else,” whereupon Abdullah ordered him two hundred thousand dirhams and ten Arab horses, five with housings of silk and other five with richly ornamented saddles, used in state processions; besides twenty chests of clothes and ten mounted white slaves and a proportionate quantity of jewels of price. Moreover, he bestowed on him a dress of honour and sent him to Baghdad in great splendour. So when he came thither, he repaired to the door of Yahya’s house, before he went to his own folk, and craved permission to enter and have audience. The Chamberlain went in to Yahya and said to him, “O my lord, there is one at the door who craveth speech of thee; and he is a man of apparent wealth, courteous in manner, comely of aspect and attended by many servants.” Then Yahya bade admit him; and, when he entered and kissed the ground before him, Yahya asked him, “Who art thou?” He answered, “Hear me, O my lord, I am he who was done dead by the tyranny of fortune, but thou didst raise me to life again from the grave of calamities and exalt me to the paradise of my desires. I am the man who forged a letter in thy name and carried it to Abdullah bin Malik al-Khuza’i.” Yahya asked, “How hath he dealt with thee and what did he give thee?”; and the man answered, “He hath given me, thanks to thy hand and thy great liberality and benevolence and to thy comprehensive kindness and lofty magnanimity and thine all-embracing generosity, that which hath made me a wealthy man and he hath distinguished me with his gifts and favours. And now I have brought all that he gave me and here it is at thy door; for it is thine to decide and the command is in thy hand.” Rejoined Yahya, “Thou hast done me better service than I did thee and I owe thee a heavy debt of gratitude and every gift the white hand1 can give, for that thou hast changed into love and amity the hate and enmity that were between me and a man whom I respect and esteem. Wherefore I will give thee the like of what Abdullah bin Malik gave thee.” Then he ordered him money and horses and chests of apparel, such as Abdullah had given him; and thus that man’s fortune was restored to him by the munificence of these two generous ones. And folk also relate the tale of the
1 The symbol of generosity, of unasked liberality, the “black hand” being that of niggardness.
It is said of Al–Maamun that, among the Caliphs of the house of Abbas, there was none more accomplished in all branches of knowledge than he. Now on two days in each week, he was wont to preside at conferences of the learned, when the lawyers and theologians disputed in his presence, each sitting in his several-rank and room. One day as he sat thus, there came into the assembly a stranger, clad in ragged white clothes, who took seat in an obscure place behind the doctors of the law. Then the assembly began to speak and debate difficult questions, it being the custom that the various propositions should be submitted to each in turn, and that whoso bethought him of some subtle addition or rare conceit, should make mention of it. So the question went round till it came to the strange man, who spake in his turn and made a goodlier answer than any of the doctors’ replies; and the Caliph approved his speech. —— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph Al–Maamun approved his speech and ordered him to come up from his low place to a high stead. Now when the second question came to him, he made a still more notable answer, and Al–Maamun ordered him to be preferred to a yet higher seat; and when the third question reached him, he made answer more justly and appropriately than on the two previous occasions, and Al–Maamun bade him come up and sit near himself. Presently the discussion ended when water was brought and they washed their hands after which food was set on and they ate; and the doctors arose and withdrew; but Al–Maamun forbade the stranger to depart with them and, calling him to himself, treated him with especial-favour and promised him honour and profit. Thereupon they made ready the séance of wassail; the fair-faced cup-companions came and the pure wine1 went round amongst them, till the cup came to the stranger, who rose to his feet and spake thus, “If the Commander of the Faithful permit me, I will say one word.” Answered the Caliph, “Say what thou wilt.” Quoth the man “Verily the Exalted Intelligence (whose eminence Allah increase!) knoweth that his slave was this day, in the august assembly, one of the unknown folk and of the meanest of the company; and the Commander of the Faithful raised his rank and brought him near to himself, little as were the wit and wisdom he displayed, preferring him above the rest and advancing him to a station and a degree where to his thought aspired not. But now he is minded to part him from that small portion of intellect which raised him high from his lowness and made him great after his littleness. Heaven forfend and forbid that the Commander of the Faithful should envy his slave what little he hath of understanding and worth and renown! Now, if his slave should drink wine, his reason would depart far from him and ignorance draw near to him and steal-away his good breeding, so would he revert to that low and contemptible degree, whence he sprang, and become ridiculous and despicable in the eyes of the folk. I hope, therefore, that the August Intelligence, of his power and bounty and royal-generosity and magnanimity, will not despoil his slave of this jewel.” When the Caliph Al–Maamun heard his speech, he praised him and thanked him and making him sit down again in his place, showed him high honour and ordered him a present of an hundred thousand silver pieces. Moreover he mounted him upon a horse and gave him rich apparel; and in every assembly he was wont to exalt him and show him favour over all the other doctors of law and religion till he became the highest of them all in rank. And Allah is All knowing.2 Men also tell a tale of
1 Arab. Ráh =pure (and old) wine. Arabs, like our classics, usually drank their wine tempered. So Imr al-Keys in his Mu’allakah says, “Bring the well tempered wine that seems to be saffron-tinctured; and, when water-mixed, o’erbrims the cup.” (v. 2.)
2 There is nothing that Orientals relish more than these “goody-goody” preachments; but they read and forget them as readily as Westerns.
There lived once in the days of yore and the good old times long gone before, in the land of Khorasan, a merchant called Majd al-Dín, who had great wealth and many slaves and servants, white and black, young and old; but he had not been blessed with a child until he reached the age of threescore, when Almighty Allah vouchsafed him a son, whom he named Alí Shár. The boy grew up like the moon on the night of fulness; and when he came to man’s estate and was endowed with all kinds of perfections, his father fell sick of a death-malady and, calling his son to him, said, “O my son, the fated hour of my decease is at hand, and I desire to give thee my last injunctions.” He asked, “And what are they, O my father?”; and he answered, “O my son, I charge thee, be not over-familiar with any2 and eschew what leadeth to evil and mischief. Beware lest thou sit in company with the wicked; for he is like the blacksmith; if his fire burn thee not, his smoke shall bother thee: and how excellent is the saying of the poet,3
‘In thy whole world there is not one, Whose friendship thou may’st count upon, Nor plighted faith that will stand true, When times go hard, and hopes are few. Then live apart and dwell alone, Nor make a prop of any one, I’ve given a gift in that I’ve said, Will stand thy friend in every stead:’
And what another saith,
‘Men are a hidden malady;
Rely not on the sham in them:
For perfidy and treachery
Thou’lt find, if thou examine them.’
And yet a third saith,
‘Converse with men hath scanty weal, except
To while away the time in chat and prate:
Then shun their intimacy, save it be
To win thee lore, or better thine estate.’
And a fourth saith,
‘If a sharp-witted wight e’er tried mankind,
I’ve eaten that which only tasted he:4
Their amity proved naught but wile and guile,
Their faith I found was but hypocrisy.’”
Quoth Ali, “O my father, I have heard thee and I will obey thee what more shall I do?” Quoth he, “Do good whereas thou art able; be ever kind and courteous to men and regard as riches every occasion of doing a good turn; for a design is not always easily carried out; and how well saith the poet,
“Tis not at every time and tide unstable,
We can do kindly acts and charitable:
When thou art able hasten thee to act,
Lest thine endeavour prove anon unable!’”
Said Ali, “I have heard thee and I will obey thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 435) ill-advisedly writes “Sher,” as “the word is evidently Persian signifying a Lion.” But this is only in the debased Indian dialect, a Persian, especially a Shirazi, pronounces “Shír.” And this is how it is written in the Bresl. Edit., vii. 262. “Shár” is evidently a fancy name, possibly suggested by the dynastic name of the Ghurjistan or Georgian Princes.
2 Again old experience, which has learned at a heavy cost how many a goodly apple is rotten at the core.
3 This couplet has occurred in Night xxi. I give Torrens (p. 206) by way of specimen.
4 Arab. “Záka” = merely tasting a thing which may be sweet with a bitter after-flavour
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth replied, “I have heard thee and I will obey thee; what more?” And his sire continued, “Be thou, O my son, mindful of Allah, so shall He be mindful of thee. Ward thy wealth and waste it not; for an thou do, thou wilt come to want the least of mankind. Know that the measure of a man’s worth is according to that which his right hand hendeth: and how well saith the poet,1
‘When fails my wealth no friend will deign befriend,
And when it waxeth all men friendship show:
How many a foe for wealth became my friend,
Wealth lost, how many a friend became a foe!’”
Asked Ali, “What more?” And Majd al-Din answered, “O my son, take counsel of those who are older than thou and hasten not to do thy heart’s desire. Have compassion on those who are below thee, so shall those who are above thee have compassion on thee; and oppress none, lest Allah empower one who shall oppress thee. How well saith the poet,
‘Add other wit to thy wit, counsel craving,
For man’s true course hides not from minds of two
Man is a mirror which but shows his face,
And by two mirrors he his back shall view.’
And as saith another,2
‘Act on sure grounds, nor hurry fast,
To gain the purpose that thou hast
And be thou kindly to all men
So kindly thou’lt be called again;
For not a deed the hand can try,
Save ‘neath the hand of God on high,
Nor tyrant harsh work tyranny,
Uncrushed by tyrant harsh as he.’
And as saith yet another,3
‘Tyrannize not, if thou hast the power to do so; for the tyrannical is in danger of revenges.
Thine eye will sleep while the oppressed, wakeful, will call down curses on thee, and God’s eye sleepeth not.’
Beware of wine-bibbing, for drink is the root of all evil: it doeth away the reason and bringeth to contempt whoso useth it; and how well saith the poet,
‘By Allah, wine shall not disturb me, while my soul
Join body, nor while speech the words of me explain:
No day will I be thralled to wine-skin cooled by breeze4
Nor choose a friend save those who are of cups unfair.’
This, then, is my charge to thee; bear it before thine eyes, and Allah stand to thee in my stead.” Then he swooned away and kept silent awhile; and, when he came to himself, he besought pardon of Allah and pronounced the profession of the Faith, and was admitted to the mercy of the Almighty. So his son wept and lamented for him and presently made proper preparation for his burial; great and small walked in his funeral-procession and Koran readers recited Holy Writ about his bier; nor did Ali Shar omit aught of what was due to the dead. Then they prayed over him and committed him to the dust and wrote these two couplets upon his tomb,
‘Thou west create of dust and cam’st to life,
And learned’st in eloquence to place thy trust;
Anon, to dust returning, thou becamest
A corpse, as though ne’er taken from the dust.”
Now his son Ali Shar grieved for him with sore grief and mourned him with the ceremonies usual among men of note; nor did he cease to weep the loss of his father till his mother died also, not long afterwards, when he did with her as he had done with his sire. Then he sat in the shop, selling and buying and consorting with none of Almighty Allah’s creatures, in accordance with his father’s injunction. This wise he continued to do for a year, at the end of which time there came in to him by craft certain whoreson fellows and consorted with him, till he turned after their example to lewdness and swerved from the way of righteousness, drinking wine in flowing bowls and frequenting fair women night and day; for he said to himself, “Of a truth my father amassed this wealth for me, and if I spend it not, to whom shall I leave it? By Allah, I will not do save as saith the poet,
‘An through the whole of life
Thou gett’st and gain’st for self;
Say, when shalt thou enjoy
Thy gains and gotten pelf?’”
And Ali Shar ceased not to waste his wealth all whiles of the day and all watches of the night, till he had made away with the whole of his riches and abode in pauper case and troubled at heart. So he sold his shop and lands and so forth, and after this he sold the clothes off his body, leaving himself but one suit; and, as drunkenness quitted him and thoughtfulness came to him, he fell into grief and sore care. One day, when he had sat from day-break to mid-afternoon without breaking his fast, he said in his mind, “I will go round to those on whom I spent my monies: perchance one of them will feed me this day.” So he went the round of them all; but, as often as he knocked at any one’s door of them, the man denied himself and hid from him, till his stomach ached with hunger. Then he betook himself to the bazar of the merchants — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This tetraseich was in Night xxx. with a difference.
2 The lines have occurred in Night xxx. I quote Torrens, p. 311.
3 This tetrastich is in Night clxix. I borrow from Lane (ii. 62).
4 The rude but effective refrigerator of the desert Arab who hangs his water-skin to the branch of a tree and allows it to swing in the wind.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ali Shar feeling his stomach ache with hunger, betook himself to the merchants’ bazar where he found a crowd of people assembled in ring, and said to himself, “I wonder what causeth these folk to crowd together thus? By Allah, I will not budge hence till I see what is within yonder ring!” So he made his way into the ring and found therein a damsel exposed for sale who was five feet tall,1 beautifully proportioned, rosy of cheek and high of breast; and who surpassed all the people of her time in beauty and loveliness and elegance and grace; even as saith one, describing her,
“As she willèd she was made, and in such a way that when
She was cast in Nature’s mould neither short nor long was she:
Beauty woke to fall in love with the beauties of her form,
Where combine with all her coyness her pride and pudency:
The full moon is her face2and the branchlet is her shape,
And the musk-pod is her scent — what like her can there be?
’Tis as though she were moulded from water of the pearl,
And in every lovely limblet another moon we see!”
And her name was Zumurrud — the Smaragdine. So when Ali Shar saw her, he marvelled at her beauty and grace and said, “By Allah, I will not stir hence till I see how much this girl fetcheth, and know who buyeth her!” So he took standing-place amongst the merchants, and they thought he had a mind to buy her, knowing the wealth he had inherited from his parents. Then the broker stood at the damsel’s head and said, “Ho, merchants! Ho, ye men of money! Who will open the gate of biddings for this damsel, the mistress of moons, the union pearl, Zumurrud the curtain-maker, the sought of the seeker and the delight of the desirous? Open the biddings’ door and on the opener be nor blame nor reproach for evermore.” Thereupon quoth one merchant, “Mine for five hundred dinars;” “And ten,” quoth another. “Six hundred,” cried an old man named Rashíd al-Din, blue of eye3 and foul of face. “And ten,” cried another. “I bid a thousand,” rejoined Rashid al-Din; whereupon the rival merchants were tongue-tied, and held their peace and the broker took counsel with the girl’s owner, who said, “I have sworn not to sell her save to whom she shall choose: so consult her.” Thereupon the broker went up to Zumurrud and said to her, “O mistress of moons this merchant hath a mind to buy thee.” She looked at Rashid al-Din and finding him as we have said, replied, “I will not be sold to a gray-beard, whom decrepitude hath brought to such evil plight. Allah inspired his saying who saith,
‘I craved of her a kiss one day; but soon as she beheld
My hoary hairs, though I my luxuries and wealth display’d;
She proudly turned away from me, showed shoulders, cried aloud:—
‘No! no! by Him, whose hest mankind from nothingness hath made
For hoary head and grizzled chin I’ve no especial-love:
What! stuff my mouth with cotton4 ere in sepulchre I’m laid?’”
Now when the broker heard her words he said, “By Allah, thou art excusable, and thy price is ten thousand gold pieces!” So he told her owner that she would not accept of old man Rashid al-Din, and he said, “Consult her concerning another.” Thereupon a second man came forward and said, “Be she mine for what price was offered by the oldster she would have none of;” but she looked at him and seeing that his beard was dyed, said “What be this fashion lewd and base and the blackening of the hoary face?” And she made a great show of wonderment and repeated these couplets,
“Showed me Sir Such-an-one a sight and what a frightful sight!
A neck by Allah, only made for slipper-sole to smite5
A beard the meetest racing ground where gnats and lice contend,
A brow fit only for the ropes thy temples chafe and bite.6
O thou enravish” by my cheek and beauties of my form,
Why so translate thyself to youth and think I deem it right?
Dyeing disgracefully that white of reverend aged hairs,
And hiding for foul purposes their venerable white!
Thou goest with one beard and comest back with quite another,
Like Punch-and-Judy man who works the Chinese shades by night.7
And how well saith another’
Quoth she, ‘I see thee dye thy hoariness:’8
‘To hide, O ears and eyes! from thee,’ quoth I:
She roared with laugh and said, ‘Right funny this;
Thou art so lying e’en
Now when the broker heard her verse he exclaimed, “By Allah thou hast spoken sooth!” The merchant asked what she said: so the broker repeated the verses to him; and he knew that she was in the right while he was wrong and desisted from buying her. Then another came forward and said, “Ask her if she will be mine at the same price;” but, when he did so, she looked at him and seeing that he had but one eye, said, “This man is one-eyed; and it is of such as he that the poet saith,9
‘Consort not with the Cyclops e’en a day;
Beware his falsehood and his mischief fly:
Had this monocular a jot of good,
Allah had ne’er brought blindness to his eye!’”
Then said the broker, pointing to another bidder, “Wilt thou be sold to this man?” She looked at him and seeing that he was short of stature10 and had a beard that reached to his navel, cried, “This is he of whom the poet speaketh,
‘I have a friend who hath a beard
Allah to useless length unroll’d:
’Tis like a certain11 winter night,
Longsome and darksome, drear and cold.’”
Said the broker, “O my lady, look who pleaseth thee of these that are present, and point him out, that I may sell thee to him.” So she looked round the ring of merchants, examining one by one their physiognomies, till her glance fell on Ali Shar — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab “Khumásiyah” which Lane (ii. 438) renders “of quinary stature.” Usually it means five spans, but here five feet, showing that the girl was young and still growing. The invoice with a slave always notes her height in spans measured from ankle-bone to ear and above seven she loses value as being full grown. Hence Sudási (fem. Sudásiyah) is a slave six spans high, the Shibr or full span (9 inches) not the Fitr or short span from thumb to index. Faut is the interval-between every finger, Ratab between index and medius, and Atab between medius and annularis.
2 “Moon faced” now sounds sufficiently absurd to us, but it was not always so. Solomon (Cant. vi. 10) does not disdain the image “fair as the moon, clear as the sun,” and those who have seen a moon in the sky of Arabia will thoroughly appreciate it. We find it amongst the Hindus, the Persians, the Afghans, the Turks and all the nations of Europe. We have, finally, the grand example of Spenser,
“Her spacious forehead, like the clearest moon, etc.”
3 Blue eyes have a bad name in Arabia as in India: the witch Zarká of Al–Yamamah was noted for them; and “blue eyed” often means “fierce-eyed,” alluding to the Greeks and Daylamites, mortal-enemies to Ishmael. The Arabs say “ruddy of mustachio, blue of eye and black of heart.”
4 Before explained as used with camphor to fill the dead man’s mouth.
5 As has been seen, slapping on the neck is equivalent to our “boxing ears,” but much less barbarous and likely to injure the child. The most insulting blow is that with shoe sandal-or slipper because it brings foot in contact with head. Of this I have spoken before.
6 Arab. “Hibál” (= ropes) alluding to the A’akál-fillet which binds the Kúfiyah-kerchief on the Badawi’s head. (Pilgrimage, i. 346.)
7 Arab. “Khiyál”; afterwards called Kara Gyuz (= “black eyes,” from the celebrated Turkish Wazir). The mise-en-scène was like that of Punch, but of transparent cloth, lamp lit inside and showing silhouettes worked by hand. Nothing could be more Fescenntne than Kara Gyuz, who appeared with a phallus longer than himself and made all the Consuls–General-periodically complain of its abuse, while the dialogue, mostly in Turkish, as even more obscene. Most ingenious were Kara Gyuz’s little ways of driving on an Obstinate donkey and of tackling a huge Anatolian pilgrim. He mounted the Neddy’s back face to tail, and inserting his left thumb like a clyster, hammered it with his right when the donkey started at speed. For the huge pilgrim he used a ladder. These shows now obsolete, used to enliven the Ezbekiyah Gardens every evening and explain Ovid’s Words,
“Delicias videam, Nile jocose, tuas!”
8 Mohammed (Mishkát al-Masábih ii. 360–62) says, “Change the whiteness of your hair but not with anything black.” Abu Bakr, who was two years and some months older than the Prophet, used tincture of Henna and Katam. Old Turkish officers justify black dyes because these make them look younger and fiercer. Henna stains white hair orange red; and the Persians apply after it a paste of indigo leaves, the result is successively leek-green, emerald-green, bottle-green and lastly lamp-black. There is a stage in life (the youth of old age) when man uses dyes: presently he finds that the whole face wants dye; that the contrast between juvenile coloured hair and ancient skin is ridiculous and that it is time to wear white.
9 This prejudice extends all over the East: the Sanskrit saying is “Kvachit káná bhaveta sádhus” now and then a monocular is honest. The left eye is the worst and the popular idea is, I have said, that the damage will come by the injured member
10 The Arabs say like us, “Short and thick is never quick” and “Long and thin has little in.”
11 Arab. “Ba’azu layáli,” some night when his mistress failed him.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the girl’s glance fell on Ali Shar, she cast at him a look with longing eyes, which cost her a thousand sighs, and her heart was taken with him; for that he was of favour passing fair and pleasanter than zephyr or northern air; and she said, “O broker, I will be sold to none but to this my lord, owner of the handsome face and slender form whom the poet thus describeth,
‘Displaying that fair face
The tempted they assailed
Who, had they wished me safe
That lovely face had veiled!’
For none shall own me but he, because his cheek is smooth and the water of his mouth sweet as Salsabil;1 his spittle is a cure for the sick and his charms daze and dazzle poet and proser, even as saith one of him,
‘His honey dew of lips is wine; his breath
Musk and those teeth, smile shown, are camphor’s hue:
Rizwán2 hath turned him out o’ doors, for fear
The Houris lapse from virtue at the view
Men blame his bearing for its pride, but when
In pride the full moon sails, excuse is due.’
Lord of the curling locks and rose red cheeks and ravishing look of whom saith the poet,
‘The fawn-like one a meeting promised me
And eye expectant waxed and heart unstirred:
His eyelids bade me hold his word as true;
But, in their languish,3 can he keep his word?’
And as saith another,
‘Quoth they, ‘Black letters on his cheek are writ!
How canst thou love him and a side-beard see?’
Quoth I, ‘Cease blame and cut your chiding short;
If those be letters ’tis a forgery:’
Gather his charms all growths of Eden garth
Whereto those Kausar4-lips bear testimony.’”
When the broker heard the verses she repeated on the charms of Ali Shar, he marvelled at her eloquence, no less than at the brightness of her beauty; but her owner said to him, “Marvel not at her splendour which shameth the noonday sun, nor that her memory is stored with the choicest verses of the poets; for besides this, she can repeat the glorious Koran, according to the seven readings,5 and the august Traditions, after ascription and authentic transmission; and she writeth the seven modes of handwriting6 and she knoweth more learning and knowledge than the most learned. Moreover, her hands are better than gold and silver; for she maketh silken curtains and selleth them for fifty gold pieces each; and it taketh her but eight days to make a curtain.” Exclaimed the broker, “O happy the man who hath her in his house and maketh her of his choicest treasures!”; and her owner said to him, “Sell her to whom she will.” So the broker went up to Ali Shar and, kissing his hands, said to him, “O my lord, buy thou this damsel, for she hath made choice of thee.”7 Then he set forth to him all her charms and accomplishments, and added, “I give thee joy if thou buy her, for this be a gift from Him who is no niggard of His giving.” Whereupon Ali bowed his head groundwards awhile, laughing at himself and secretly saying, “Up to this hour I have not broken my fast; yet I am ashamed before the merchants to own that I have no money wherewith to buy her.” The damsel, seeing him hang down his head, said to the broker, “Take my hand and lead me to him, that I may show my beauty to him and tempt him to buy me; for I will not be sold to any but to him.” So the broker took her hand and stationed her before Ali Shar, saying, “What is thy good pleasure, O my lord?” But he made him no answer, and the girl said to him, “O my lord and darling of my heart, what aileth thee that thou wilt not bid for me? Buy me for what thou wilt and I will bring thee good fortune.” So he raised his eyes to her and said, “Is buying perforce? Thou art dear at a thousand dinars.” Said she, “Then buy me, O my lord, for nine hundred.” He cried, “No,” and she rejoined, “Then for eight hundred;” and though he again said, “Nay,” she ceased not to abate the price, till she came to an hundred dinars. Quoth he, “I have not by me a full hundred.” So she laughed and asked, “How much dost thou lack of an hundred?” He answered, “By Allah, I have neither an hundred dinars, nor any other sum; for I own neither white coin nor red cash, neither dinar nor dirham. So look out thou for another and a better customer.” And when she knew that he had nothing, she said to him, “Take me by the hand and carry me aside into a by-lane, as if thou wouldst examine me privily.” He did so and she drew from her bosom a purse containing a thousand dinars, which she gave him, saying, “Pay down nine hundred to my price and let the hundred remain with thee by way of provision.” He did as she bid him and, buying her for nine hundred dinars, paid down the price from her own purse and carried her to his house. When she entered it, she found a dreary desolate saloon without carpets or vessels; so she gave him other thousand dinars, saying, “Go to the bazar and buy three hundred dinars’ worth of furniture and vessels for the house and three dinars’ worth of meat and drink.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The fountain in Paradise before noticed.
2 Before noticed as the Moslem St. Peter (as far as the keys go).
3 Arab. “Munkasir” = broken, frail, languishing the only form of the maladive allowed. Here again we have masculine for feminine: the eyelids show love-desire, but, etc.
4 The river of Paradise.
5 See Night xii. “The Second Kalandar’s Tale “ vol. i. 113.
6 Lane (ii. 472) refers for specimens of calligraphy to Herbin’s “Développements, etc.” There are many more than seven styles of writing as I have shown in Night xiii.; vol. i. 129.
7 Amongst good Moslems this would be a claim upon a man.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King that quoth the slave-girl, “Bring us meat and drink for three dinars, furthermore a piece of silk, the size of a curtain, and bring golden and silvern thread and sewing silk of seven colours.” Thus he did, and she furnished the house and they sat down to eat and drink; after which they went to bed and took their pleasure one of the other. And they lay the night embraced behind the curtain and were even as saith the poet,1
“Cleave fast to her thou lovestand let the envious rail amain,
For calumny and envy ne’er to favour love were fain.
Lo, whilst I slept, in dreams I saw thee lying by my side
And, from thy lips the sweetest, sure, of limpid springs did drain.
Yea, true and certain all I saw is, as I will avouch,
And ‘spite the envier, thereto I surely will attain.
There is no goodlier sight, indeed, for eyes to look upon,
Than when one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain.
Each to the other’s bosom clasped, clad in their twinned delight,
Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks enchain
Lo, when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire,
But on cold iron smite the folk who chide at them in vain.
Thou, that for loving censurest the votaries of love,
Canst thou assain a heart diseased or heal-a cankered brain?
If in thy time thou kind but one to love thee and be true,
I rede thee cast the world away and with that one remain.”
So they lay together till the morning and love for the other waxed firmly fixed in the heart of each. And on rising, Zumurrud took the curtain and embroidered it with coloured silks and purpled it with silver and gold thread and she added thereto a border depicting round about it all manner of birds and beasts; nor is there in the world a feral but she wrought his semblance. This she worked in eight days, till she had made an end of it, when she trimmed it and glazed and ironed it and gave it to her lord, saying, “Carry it to the bazar and sell it to one of the merchants at fifty dinars; but beware lest thou sell it to a passer-by, as this would cause a separation between me and thee, for we have foes who are not unthoughtful of us.” “I hear and I obey,” answered he and, repairing to the bazar, sold the curtain to a merchant, as she bade him; after which he bought a piece of silk for another curtain and gold and silver and silken thread as before and what they needed of food, and brought all this to her, giving her the rest of the money. Now every eight days she made a curtain, which he sold for fifty dinars, and on this wise passed a whole year. At the end of that time, he went as usual to the bazar with a curtain, which he gave to the broker; and there came up to him a Nazarene who bid him sixty dinars for it; but he refused, and the Christian continued bidding higher and higher, till he came to an hundred dinars and bribed the broker with ten ducats. So the man returned to Ali Shar and told him of the proffered price and urged him to accept the offer and sell the article at the Nazarene’s valuation, saying, “O my lord, be not afraid of this Christian for that he can do thee no hurt.” The merchants also were urgent with him; so he sold the curtain to the Christian, albeit his heart misgave him; and, taking the money, set off to return home. Presently, as he walked, he found the Christian walking behind him; so he said to him, “O Nazarene,2 why dost thou follow in my footsteps?” Answered the other “O my lord, I want a something at the end of the street, Allah never bring thee to want!”; but Ali Shar had barely reached his place before the Christian overtook him; so he said to him, “O accursed, what aileth thee to follow me wherever I go?” Replied the other, “O my lord, give me a draught of water, for I am athirst; and with Allah be thy reward!”3 Quoth Ali Shar to himself, “Verily, this man is an Infidel who payeth tribute and claimeth our protection4 and he asketh me for a draught of water; by Allah, I will not baulk him!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These lines have occurred twice already: and first appear in Night xxii. I have borrowed from Mr. Payne (iv. 46).
2 Arab. “Ya Nasráni”, the address is not intrinsically slighting but it may easily be made so. I have elsewhere noted that when Julian (is said to have) exclaimed “Vicisti Nazarene!” he was probably thinking in Eastern phrase “Nasarta, yá Nasráni!”
3 Thirst is the strongest of all pleas to an Eastern, especially to a Persian who never forgets the sufferings of his Imam, Husayn, at Kerbela: he would hardly withhold it from the murderer of his father. There is also a Hadis, “Thou shalt not refuse water to him who thirsteth in the desert.”
4 Arab. “Zimmi” which Lane (ii. 474) aptly translates a “tributary.” The Koran (chaps. ix.) orders Unbelievers to Islamize or to “pay tribute by right of subjection” (lit. an yadin=out of hand, an expression much debated). The least tribute is one dinar per annum which goes to the poor-rate. and for this the Kafir enjoys protection and almost all the civil rights of Moslems. As it is a question of “loaves and fishes” there is much to say on the subject; “loaves and fishes” being the main base and foundation of all religious establishments.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth Ali Shar to himself, “This man is a tributary Unbeliever and he asked me for a draught of water; by Allah, I will not baulk him!” So he entered the house and took a gugglet of water; but the slave-girl Zumurrud saw him and said to him, “O my love, hast thou sold the curtain?” He replied, “Yes;” and she asked, “To a merchant or to a passer-by? for my heart presageth a parting.” And he answered, “To whom but to a merchant?” Thereupon she rejoined, “Tell me the truth of the case, that I may order my affair; and why take the gugglet of water?” And he, To give the broker to drink,” upon which she exclaimed, There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”; and she repeated these two couplets,1
“O thou who seekest separation, act leisurely, and let not the embrace of the beloved deceive thee!
Act leisurely; for the nature of fortune is treacherous, and the end of every union is disjunction.
Then he took the gugglet and, going out, found the Christian within the vestibule and said to him, “How comest thou here and how darest thou, O dog, enter my house without my leave?” Answered he, “O my lord, there is no difference between the door and the vestibule, and I never intended to stir hence, save to go out; and my thanks are due to thee for thy kindness and favour, thy bounty and generosity.” Then he took the mug and emptying it, returned it to Ali Shar, who received it and waited for him to rise up and to go; but he did not move. So Ali said to him, “Why dost thou not rise and wend thy way?”; and he answered, “O my lord, be not of those who do a kindness and then make it a reproach, nor of those of whom saith the poet,2
‘They’re gone who when thou stoodest at their door
Would for thy wants so generously cater:
But stand at door of churls who followed them,
They’d make high favour of a draught of water!’”
And he continued, “O my lord, I have drunk, and now I would have thee give me to eat of whatever is in the house, though it be but a bit of bread or a biscuit with an onion.” Replied Ali Shar, “Begone, without more chaffer and chatter; there is nothing in the house.” He persisted, “O my lord, if there be nothing in the house, take these hundred dinars and bring us something from the market, if but a single scone, that bread and salt may pass between us.”3 With this, quoth Ali Shar to himself, “This Christian is surely mad; I will take his hundred dinars and bring him somewhat worth a couple of dirhams and laugh at him.” And the Nazarene added, “O my lord, I want but a small matter to stay my hunger, were it but a dry scone and an onion; for the best food is that which doeth away appetite, not rich viands; and how well saith the poet,
‘Hunger is sated with a bone-dry scone,
How is it then4 in woes of want I wone?
Death is all-justest, lacking aught regard
For Caliph-king and beggar woe-begone.’”
Then quoth Ali Shar, “Wait here, while I lock the saloon and fetch thee somewhat from the market;” and quoth the Christian, “To hear is to obey.” So Ali Shar shut up the saloon and, locking the door with a padlock, put the key in his pocket: after which he went to market and bought fried cheese and virgin honey and bananas5 and bread, with which he returned to the house. Now when the Christian saw the provision, he said, “O my lord, this is overmuch; ’tis enough for half a score of men and I am alone; but belike thou wilt eat with me.” Replied Ali, “Eat by thyself, I am full;” and the Christian rejoined, “O my lord, the wise say, Whoso eateth not with his guest is a son of a whore.” Now when Ali Shar heard these words from the Nazarene, he sat down and ate a little with him, after which he would have held his hand; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This tetrastich has before occurred, so I quote Lane (ii. 444).
2 In Night xxxv. the same occurs with a difference.
3 The old rite, I repeat, has lost amongst all but the noblest of Arab tribes the whole of its significance; and the traveller must be careful how he trusts to the phrase “Nahnu málihin” we are bound together by the salt.
4 Arab. “Aláma” = Alá-má = upon what? wherefore?
5 Arab. “Mauz”; hence the Linnean name Musa (paradisiaca, etc.). The word is explained by Sale (Koran, chaps. xxxvii. 146) as “a small tree or shrub;” and he would identify it with Jonah’s gourd.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ali Shar sat down and ate a little with him, after which he would have held his hand; but the Nazarene privily took a banana and peeled it; then, splitting it in twain, put into one half concentrated Bhang, mixed with opium, a drachm whereof would over throw an elephant; and he dipped it in the honey and gave it to Ali Shar, saying, “O my lord, by the truth of thy religion, I adjure thee to take this.” So Ali Shar, being ashamed to make him forsworn, took it and swallowed it; but hardly had it settled well in his stomach, when his head forwent both his feet and he was as though he had been a year asleep. As soon as the Nazarene saw this, rose to his feet as he had been a scald wolf or a cat-o’-mount1 at bay and, taking the saloon key, left Ali Shar prostrate and ran off to rejoin his brother. And the cause of his so doing was that the Nazarene’s brother was the same decrepit old man who purposed to buy Zumurrud for a thousand dinars, but she would none of him and jeered him in verse. He was an Unbeliever inwardly, though a Moslem outwardly, and had called himself Rashid al-Din;2 and when Zumurrud mocked him and would not accept of him, he complained to his brother the aforesaid Christian who played this sleight to take her from her master Ali Shar; whereupon his brother, Barsum by name said to him, “Fret not thyself about the business, for I will make shift to seize her for thee, without expending either diner or dirham. Now he was a skilful wizard, crafty and wicked; so he watched his time and ceased not his practices till he played Ali Shar the trick before related; then, taking the key, he went to his brother and acquainted him with what had passed. Thereupon Rashid al-Din mounted his she mule and repaired with his brother and his servants to the house of Ali Shar, taking with him a purse of a thousand dinars, wherewith to bribe the Chief of Police, should he meet him. He opened the saloon door and the men who were with him rushed in upon Zumurrud and forcibly seized her, threatening her with death, if she spoke, but they left the place as it was and took nothing therefrom. Lastly they left Ali Shar lying in the vestibule after they had shut the door on him and laid the saloon key by his side. Then the Christian carried the girl to his own house and setting her amongst his handmaids and concubines, said to her, “O strumpet, I am the old man whom thou didst reject and lampoon; but now I have thee, without paying diner or dirham.” Replied she (and her eyes streamed with tears), “Allah requite thee, O wicked old man, for sundering me and my lord!” He rejoined, “Wanton minx and whore that thou art, thou shalt see how I will punish thee! By the truth of the Messiah and the Virgin, except thou obey me and embrace my faith, I will torture thee with all manner of torture!” She replied, “By Allah, though thou cut my flesh to bits I will not forswear the faith of Al–Islam! It may be Almighty Allah will bring me speedy relief, for He cloth even as He is fief, and the wise say: ‘Better body to scathe than a flaw in faith.’” Thereupon the old man called his eunuchs and women, saying, “Throw her down!” So they threw her down and he ceased not to beat her with grievous beating, whilst she cried for help and no help came; then she no longer implored aid but fell to saying, “Allah is my sufficiency, and He is indeed all-sufficient!” till her groans ceased and her breath failed her and she fell into a fainting-fit. Now when his heart was soothed by bashing her, he said to the eunuchs, “Drag her forth by the feet and cast her down in the kitchen, and give her nothing to eat.” And after quietly sleeping that night, on the morrow the accursed old man sent for her and beat her again, after which he bade the Castrato return her to her place. When the burning of the blows had cooled, she said, “There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God! Allah is my sufficiency and excellent is my Guardian!” And she called for succour upon our Lord Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!)— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 446) “bald wolf or empowered fate,” reading (with Mac.) Kazá for Kattan (cat).
2 i.e. “the Orthodox in the Faith.” Ráshid is a proper name, witness that scourge of Syria, Ráshid Pasha. Born in 1830, of the Haji Nazir Agha family, Darrah–Beys of Macedonian Draina, he was educated in Paris where he learned the usual-hatred of Europeans: he entered the Egyptian service in 1851, and, presently exchanging it for the Turkish, became in due time Wali (Governor–General) of Syria which he plundered most shamelessly. Recalled in 1872, he eventually entered the Ministry and on June 15 1876, he was shot down, with other villains like himself, by gallant Captain Hasan, the Circassian (Yarham-hu ‘lláh!).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Zumurrud called for succour upon our Lord Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!). Such was her case; but as regards Ali Shar, he ceased not sleeping till next day, when the Bhang quitted his brain and he opened his eyes and cried out, “O Zumurrud”; but no one answered him. So he entered the saloon and found the empty air and the fane afar;1 whereby he knew that it was the Nazarene who had played him this trick. And he groaned and wept and lamented and again shed tears, repeating these couplets,
“O Love thou’rt instant in thy cruellest guise;
Here is my heart ‘twixt fears and miseries:
Pity, O lords, a thrall who, felled on way
Of Love, erst wealthy now a beggar lies:
What profits archer’s art if, when the foe
Draw near, his bowstring snap ere arrow {lies:
And when griefs multiply on generous man
And urge, what fort can fend from destinies?
How much and much I warded parting, but
‘When Destiny descends she blinds our eyes?’”
And when he had ended his verse, he sobbed with loud sobs and repeated also these couplets,
“Enrobes with honour sands of camp her foot step wandering lone,
Pines the poor mourner as she wins the stead where wont to wane
She turns to resting-place of tribe, and yearns thereon to view
The spring-camp lying desolate with ruins overstrown
She stands and questions of the site, but with the tongue of case
The mount replies, ‘There is no path that leads to union, none!
’Tis as the lightning flash erewhile bright glittered o’er the camp
And died in darkling air no more to be for ever shown.’”
And he repented when repentance availed him naught, and wept and rent his raiment. Then he hent in hand two stones and went round about the city, beating his breast with the stones and crying “O Zumurrud!” whilst the small boys flocked round him, calling out, “A madman! A madman!” and all who knew him wept for him, saying, “This is such an one: what evil hath befallen him?” Thus he continued doing all that day and, when night darkened on him, he lay down in one of the city lanes and sleet till morning On the morrow, he went round about town with the stones till eventide, when he returned to his saloon to pass therein the night. Presently, one of his neighbours saw him, and this worthy old woman said to him, “O my son, Heaven give thee healing! How long hast thou been mad?” And he answered her with these two couplets,2
“They said, Thou revest upon the person thou lovest.
And I replied, The sweets of life are only for the mad.
Drop the subject of my madness, and bring her upon whom I rave
If she cure my madness do not blame me.”
So his old neighbour knew him for a lover who had lost his beloved and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! O my son, I wish thou wouldest acquaint me with the tale of thine affliction. Peradventure Allah may enable me to help thee against it, if it so please Him.” So he told her all that had befallen him with Barsum the Nazarene and his brother the wizard who had named himself Rashid al-Din and, when she understood the whole case, she said, “O my son, indeed thou hast excuse.” And her eyes railed tears and she repeated these two couplets,
“Enough for lovers in this world their ban and bane:
By Allah, lover ne’er in fire of Sakar fries:
For, sure, they died of love-desire they never told
Chastely, and to this truth tradition testifies.”3
And after she had finished her verse, she said, “O my son, rise at once and buy me a crate, such as the jewel-pedlars carry; buy also bangles and seal-rings and bracelets and ear-rings and other gewgaws wherein women delight and grudge not the cash. Put all the stock into the crate and bring it to me and I will set it on my head and go round about, in the guise of a huckstress and make search for her in all the houses, till I happen on news of her — Inshallah!” So Ali Shar rejoiced in her words and kissed her hands, then, going out, speedily brought her all she required; whereupon she rose and donned a patched gown and threw over her head a honey-yellow veil, and took staff in hand and, with the basket on her head, began wandering about the passages and the houses. She ceased not to go from house to house and street to street and quarter to quarter, till Allah Almighty led her to the house of the accursed Rashid al-Din the Nazarene where, hearing groans within, she knocked at the door — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Quoted from a piece of verse, of which more presently.
2 This tetrastich has occurred before (Night cxciii.). I quote Lane (ii. 449), who quotes Dryden’s Spanish Friar,
“There is a pleasure sure in being mad
Which none but madmen know.”
3 Lane (ii. 449) gives a tradition of the Prophet, “Whoso is in love, and acteth chastely, and concealeth (his passion) and dieth, dieth a martyr.” Sakar is No. 5 Hell for Magi Guebres, Parsis, etc., it is used in the comic Persian curse, “Fi’n-nári wa Sakar al-jadd w’al-pidar”=ln Hell and Sakar his grandfather and his father.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman heard groans within the house, she knocked at the door, whereupon a slave-girl came down and opening to her, saluted her. Quoth the old woman, “I have these trifles for sale: is there any one with you who will buy aught of them?” “Yes,” answered the damsel and, carrying her indoors, made her sit down; whereupon all the slave-girls came round her and each bought something of her. And as the old woman spoke them fair and was easy with them as to price, all rejoiced in her, because of her kind ways and pleasant speech. Meanwhile, she looked narrowly at the ins and outs of the place to see who it was she had heard groaning, till her glance fell on Zumurrud, when she knew her and she began to show her customers yet more kindness. At last she made sure that Zumurrud was laid prostrate; so she wept and said to the girls, “O my children, how cometh yonder young lady in this plight?” Then the slave-girls told her all what had passed, adding, “Indeed this matter is not of our choice; but our master commanded us to do thus, and he is now on a journey.” She said, “O my children, I have a favour to ask of you, and it is that you loose this unhappy damsel of her bonds, till you know of your lord’s return, when do ye bind her again as she was; and you shall earn a reward from the Lord of all creatures.” “We hear and obey,” answered they and at once loosing Zumurrud, gave her to eat and drink. Thereupon quoth the old woman, “Would my leg had been broken, ere I entered your house!” And she went up to Zumurrud and said to her, “O my daughter, Heaven keep thee safe; soon shall Allah bring thee relief.” Then she privily told her that she came from her lord, Ali Shar, and agreed with her to be on the watch for sounds that night, saying, “Thy lord will come and stand by the pavilion-bench and whistle1 to thee; and when thou hearest him, do thou whistle back to him and let thyself down to him by a rope from the window, and he will take thee and go away with thee.” So Zumurrud thanked the old woman, who went forth and returned to Ali Shar and told him what she had done, saying, “Go this night, at midnight, to such a quarter, for the accursed carle’s house is there and its fashion is thus and thus. Stand under the window of the upper chamber and whistle; whereupon she will let herself down to thee; then do thou take her and carry her whither thou wilt.” He thanked her for her good offices and with flowing tears repeated these couplets,
“Now with their says and saids2 no more vex me the chiding race;
My heart is weary and I’m worn to bone by their disgrace:
And tears a truthful legend3 with a long ascription-chain
Of my desertion and distress the lineage can trace.
O thou heart-whole and free from dole and dolours I endure,
Cut short thy long persistency nor question of my case:
A sweet-lipped one and soft of sides and cast in shapeliest mould
Hath stormed my heart with honied lure and honied words of grace.
No rest my heart hath known since thou art gone, nor ever close
These eyes, nor patience aloe scape the hopes I dare to trace:
Ye have abandoned me to be the pawn of vain desire,
In squalid state ‘twixt enviers and they who blame to face:
As for forgetting you or love ’tis thing I never knew;
Nor in my thought shall ever pass a living thing but you.”
And when he ended his verses, he sighed and shed tears and repeated also these couplets,
“Divinely were inspired his words who brought me news of you;
For brought he unto me a gift was music in mine ear:
Take he for gift, if him content, this worn-out threadbare robe,
My heart, which was in pieces torn when parting from my fete.”
He waited till night darkened and, when came the appointed time, he went to the quarter she had described to him and saw and recognised the Christian’s house; so he sat down on the bench under the gallery. Presently drowsiness overcame him and he slept (Glory be to Him who sleepeth not!?, for it was long since he had tasted sleep, by reason of the violence of his passion, and he became as one drunken with slumber. And while he was on this wise — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sifr”: I have warned readers that whistling is considered a kind of devilish speech by the Arabs, especially the Badawin, and that the traveller must avoid it. It savours of idolatry: in the Koran we find (chaps. viii. 35), “Their prayer at the House of God (Ka’abah) is none other than whistling and hand-clapping;” and tradition says that they whistled through their fingers. Besides many of the Jinn have only round holes by way of mouths and their speech is whistling a kind of bird language like sibilant English.
2 Arab. ‘Kíl wa kál”=lit. “it was said and he said;” a popular phrase for chit chat, tittle-tattle, prattle and prate, etc.
3 Arab. “Hadis.” comparing it with a tradition of the Prophet.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that while he lay asleep, behold, a certain thief, who had come out that night and prowled about the skirts of the city to steal-somewhat, happened by the decree of Destiny, on the Nazarene’s house. He went round about it, but found no way of climbing up into it, and presently on his circuit he came to the bench, where he saw Ali Shar asleep and stole his turband; and, as he was taking it suddenly Zumurrud looked out and seeing the thief standing in the darkness, took him for her lord; whereupon she let herself down to him by the rope with a pair of saddle-bags full of gold. Now when the robber saw that, he said to himself, “This is a wondrous thing, and there must needs be some marvellous cause to it.” Then he snatched up the saddle-bags, and threw Zumurrud over his shoulders and made off with both like the blinding lightening. Quoth she, “Verily, the old woman told me that thou west weak with illness on my account; and here thou art, stronger than a horse.” He made her no reply; so she put her hand to his face and felt a beard like the broom of palm-frond used for the Hammam,1 as if he were a hog which had swallowed feathers and they had come out of his gullet; whereat she took fright and said to him, “What art thou?” “O strumpet,” answered he, “I am the sharper Jawán2 the Kurd, of the band of Ahmad al-Danaf; we are forty sharpers, who will all piss our tallow into thy womb this night, from dusk to dawn.” When she heard his words, she wept and beat her face, knowing that Fate had gotten the better of her and that she had no resource but resignation and to put her trust in Allah Almighty. So she took patience and submitted herself to the ordinance of the Lord, saying, “There is no god but the God! As often as we escape from one woe, we fall into a worse.” Now the cause of Jawan’s coming thither was this: he had said to Calamity–Ahmad, “O Sharper-captain,3 I have been in this city before and know a cavern without the walls which will hold forty souls; so I will go before you thither and set my mother therein. Then will I return to the city and steal-somewhat for the luck of all of you and keep it till you come; so shall you be my guests and I will show you hospitality this day.” Replied Ahmad al-Danaf, “Do what thou wilt.” So Jawan went forth to the place before them and set his mother in the cave; but, as he came out he found a trooper lying asleep, with his horse picketed beside him; so he cut his throat and, taking his clothes and his charger and his arms, hid them with his mother in the cave, where also he tethered the horse. Then he betook himself to the city and prowled about, till he happened on the Christian’s house and did with Ali Shar’s turband and Zumurrud and her saddle-bags as we have said. He ceased not to run, with Zumurrud on his back, till he came to the cavern, where he gave her in charge of his mother, saying, “Keep thou watch over her till I return to thee at first dawn of day,” and went his ways. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Mikashshah,” the thick part of a midrib of a palm-frond soaked for some days in water and beaten out till the fibres separate. It makes an exceedingly hard, although not a lasting broom.
2 Persian, “the youth, the brave;” Sansk. Yuván: and Lat. Juvenis. The Kurd, in tales, is generally a sturdy thief; and in real-life is little better.
3 Arab. “Yá Shatir;” lit. O clever one (in a bad sense).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth Kurdish Jawan to his mother, “Keep thou watch over her till I come back to thee at first dawn of day,” and went his ways. Now Zumurrud said to herself, “Why am I so heedless about saving my life and wherefore await till these forty men come?: they will take their turns to board me, till they make me like a water- logged ship at sea.” Then she turned to the old woman, Jawan’s mother, and said to her, “O my aunt, wilt thou not rise up and come without the cave, that I may louse thee in the sun?”1 Replied the old woman, “Ay, by Allah, O my daughter: this long time have I been out of reach of the bath; for these hogs cease not to carry me from place to place.” So they went without the cavern, and Zumurrud combed out her head hair and killed the lice on her locks, till the tickling soothed her and she fell asleep; whereupon Zumurrud arose and, donning the clothes of the murdered trooper, girt her waist with his sword and covered her head with his turband, so that she became as she were a man. Then, mounting the horse after she had taken the saddle-bags full of gold, she breathed a prayer, “O good Protector, protect me I adjure thee by the glory of Mohammed (whom Allah bless and preserve!),” adding these words in thought, “If I return to the city belike one of the trooper’s folk will see me, and no good will befal me.” So she turned her back on the town and rode forth into the wild and the waste. And she ceased not faring forth with her saddle-bags and the steed, eating of the growth of the earth and drinking of its waters, she and her horse, for ten days and, on the eleventh, she came in sight of a city pleasant and secure from dread, and established in happy stead. Winter had gone from it with his cold showers, and Prime had come to it with his roses and orange- blossoms and varied flowers; and its blooms were brightly blowing; its streams were merrily flowing and its birds warbled coming and going. And she drew near the dwellings and would have entered the gate when she saw the troops and Emirs and Grandees of the place drawn up, whereat she marvelled seeing them in such unusual-case and said to herself, “The people of the city are all gathered at its gate: needs must there be a reason for this.” Then she made towards them; but, as she drew near, the soldiery dashed forward to meet her and, dismounting all, kissed the ground between her hands and said, “Aid thee Allah, O our lord the Sultan!” Then the notables and dignitaries ranged themselves before her in double line, whilst the troops ordered the people in, saying, “Allah aid thee and make thy coming a blessing to the Moslems, O Sultan of all creatures! Allah establish thee, O King of the time and union-pearl of the day and the tide!” Asked Zumurrud, “What aileth you, O people of this city?” And the Head Chamberlain answered, “Verily, He hath given to thee who is no niggard in His giving; and He hath been bountiful to thee and hath made thee Sultan of this city and ruler over the necks of all who are therein; for know thou it is the custom of the citizens, when their King deceaseth leaving no son, that the troops should sally forth to the suburbs and sojourn there three days: and whoever cometh from the quarter whence thou hast come, him they make King over them. So praised be Allah who hath sent us of the sons of the Turks a well-favoured man; for had a lesser than thou presented himself, he had been Sultan.” Now Zumurrud was clever and well-advised in all she did: so she said, “Think not that I am of the common folk of the Turks! nay, I am of the sons of the great, a man of condition; but I was wroth with my family, so I went forth and left them. See these saddle-bags full of gold which I have brought under me that, by the way, I might give alms thereof to the poor and the needy.” So they called down blessings upon her and rejoiced in her with exceeding joy and she also joyed in them and said in herself, “Now that I have attained to this”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 453) has it. “that I may dress thy hair’” etc. This is Bowdlerising with a witness.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth Zumurrud to herself, “Now that I have attained to this case, haply Allah will reunite me with my lord in this place, for He can do whatso He willeth.” Then the troops escorted her to the city and, all dismounting, walked before her to the palace. Here she alighted and the Emirs and Grandees, taking her under both armpits,1 carried her into the palace and seated her on the throne; after which they all kissed ground before her. And when duly enthroned she bade them open the treasuries and gave largesse to all the troops, who offered up prayers for the continuance of her reign, and all the townsfolk accepted her rule and all the lieges of the realm. Thus she abode awhile bidding and forbidding, and all the people came to hold her in exceeding reverence and heartily to love her, by reason of her continence and generosity; for taxes she remitted and prisoners she released and grievances she redressed; but, as often as she bethought her of her lord, she wept and besought Allah to reunite her and him; and one night, as she chanced to be thinking of him and calling to mind the days she had passed with him, her eyes ran over with tears and she versified in these two couplets,
“My yearning for thee though long is fresh,
And the tears which chafe these eyelids increase
When I weep, I weep from the burn of love,
For to lover severance is decease.”2
And when she had ended her verse, she wiped away her tears and repairing to the palace, betook herself to the Harim, where she appointed to the slave-girls and concubines separate lodgings and assigned them pensions and allowances, giving out that she was minded to live apart and devote herself to works of piety. So she applied herself to fasting and praying, till the Emirs said, “Verily this Sultan is eminently devout;” nor would she suffer any male attendants about her, save two little eunuchs to serve her. And on this wise she held the throne a whole year, during which time she heard no news of her lord, and failed to hit upon his traces, which was exceeding grievous to her; so, when her distress became excessive, she summoned her Wazirs and Chamberlains and bid them fetch architects and builders and make her in front of the palace a horse-course, one parasang long and the like broad. They hastened to do her bidding, and lay out the place to her liking; and, when it was completed, she went down into it and they pitched her there a great pavilion, wherein the chairs of the Emirs were ranged in due order. Moreover, she bade them spread on the racing-plain tables with all manners of rich meats and when this was done she ordered the Grandees to eat. So they ate and she said to them, “It is my will that, on seeing the new moon of each month, ye do on this wise and proclaim in the city that no man shall open his shop, but that all our lieges shall come and eat of the King’s banquet, and that whoso disobeyeth shall be hanged over his own door.”3 So they did as she bade them, and ceased not so to do till the first new moon of the second year appeared; when Zumurrud went down into the horse-course and the crier proclaimed aloud, saying, “Ho, ye lieges and people one and all, whoso openeth store or shop or house shall straight way be hanged over his own door; for it behoveth you to come in a body and eat of the King’s banquet.” And when the proclamation became known, they laid the tables and the subjects came in hosts; so she bade them sit down at the trays and eat their fill of all the dishes. Accordingly they sat down and she took place on her chair of state, watching them, whilst each who was at meat said to himself, “Verily the King looketh at none save me.” Then they fell to eating and the Emirs said to them, “Eat and be not ashamed; for this pleaseth the King.” So they ate their fill and went away, blessing the Sovereign and saying, one to the other, “Never in our days saw we a Sultan who loved the poor as doth this Sultan.” And they wished him length of life. Upon this Zumurrud returned to her palace — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The sign of respect when a personage dismounts. (Pilgrimage i. 77.)
2 So the Hindus speak of “the defilement of separation” as if it were an impurity.
3 Lane (i. 605) gives a long and instructive note on these public royal-banquets which were expected from the lieges by Moslem subjects. The hanging-penalty is, perhaps, a tattle exaggerated; but we find the same excess in the priestly Gesta Romanorum.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Queen Zumurrud returned to her palace, rejoicing in her device and saying to herself, “Inshallah, I shall surely by this means happen on news of my lord Ali Shar.” When the first day of the second month came round, she did as before and when they had spread the tables she came down from her palace and took place on her throne and commanded the lieges to sit down and fall to. Now as she sat on her throne, at the head of the tables, watching the people take their places company by company and one by one, behold her eye fell on Barsum, the Nazarene who had bought the curtain of her lord; and she knew him and said in her mind, “This is the first of my joy and the winning of my wish.” Then Barsum came up to the table and, sitting down with the rest to eat, espied a dish of sweet rice, sprinkled with sugar; but it was far from him, so he pushed up to it through the crowd and, putting out his hand to it, seized it and set it before himself. His next neighbour said to him, “Why dost thou not eat of what is before thee? Is not this a disgrace to thee? How canst thou reach over for a dish which is distant from thee? Art thou not ashamed?” Quoth Barsum, “I will eat of none save this same.” Rejoined the other, “Eat then, and Allah give thee no good of it!” But another man, a Hashish-eater, said, “Let him eat of it, that I may eat with him.” Replied his neighbour, “O unluckiest of Hashish-eaters, this is no meat for thee; it is eating for Emirs. Let it be, that it may return to those for whom it is meant and they eat it.” But Barsum heeded him not and took a mouthful of the rice and put it in his mouth; and was about to take a second mouthful when the Queen, who was watching him, cried out to certain of her guards, saying, “Bring me yonder man with the dish of Sweet rice before him and let him not eat the mouthful he hath read but throw it from his hand.”1 So four of the guards went up to Barsum and haled him along on his face, after throwing the mouthful of rice from his hand, and set him standing before Zumurrud, whilst all the people left eating and said to one another, By Allah, he did wrong in not eating of the food meant for the likes of him.” Quoth one, “For me I was content with this porridge2 which is before me.” And the Hashish-eater said, “Praised be Allah who hindered me from eating of the dish of sugared rice for I expected it to stand before him and was waiting only for him to have his enjoyment of it, to eat with him, when there befel him what we see.” And the general said, one to other, “Wait till we see what shall befal him.” Now as they brought him before Queen Zumurrud she cried, “Woe to thee, O blue eyes! What is thy name and why comest thou to our country?” But the accursed called himself out of his name having a white turband3 on, and answered, “O King, my name is Ali; I work as a weaver and I came hither to trade.” Quoth Zumurrud, “Bring me a table of sand and a pen of brass,” and when they brought her what she sought, she took the sand and the pen, and struck a geomantic figure in the likeness of a baboon; then, raising her head, she looked hard at Barsum for an hour or so and said to him, “O dog, how darest thou lie to Kings? Art thou not a Nazarene, Barsum by name, and comest thou not hither in quest of somewhat? Speak the truth, or by the glory of the Godhead, I will strike off thy head!” At this Barsum was confounded and the Emirs and bystanders said, “Verily, this King understandeth geomancy: blessed be He who hath gifted him!” Then she cried out upon the Christian and said, ‘Tell me the truth, or I will make an end of thee!” Barsum replied, “Pardon, O King of the age; thou art right as regards the table, for the far one4 is indeed a Nazarene — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Had he eaten it he would have become her guest. Amongst the older Badawin it was sufficient to spit upon a man (in entreaty) to claim his protection: so the horse-thieves when caught were placed in a hole in the ground covered over with matting to prevent this happening. Similarly Saladin (Saláh al-Din) the chivalrous would not order a cup of water for the robber, Reynald de Châtillon, before putting him to death
2 Arab. “Kishk” properly “Kashk”=wheat-meal-coarsely ground and eaten with milk or broth. It is de rigueur with the Egyptian Copts on the “Friday of Sorrow” (Good Friday): and Lane gives the recipe for making it (M. E. chaps. xxvi.)
3 In those days distinctive of Moslems.
4 The euphemism has before been noticed: the Moslem reader would not like to pronounce the words “I am a Nazarene.” The same formula occurs a little lower down to save the reciter or reader from saying “Be my wife divorced,” etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Barsum replied, “Pardon, O King of the age; thou art right as regards the table, for thy slave is indeed a Nazarene.” Whereupon all present, gentle and simple, wondered at the King’s skill in hitting upon the truth by geomancy, and said, “Verily this King is a diviner, whose like there is not in the world.” Thereupon Queen Zumurrud bade flay the Nazarene and stuff his skin with straw and hang it over the gate of the race-course. Moreover, she commended to dig a pit without the city and burn therein his flesh and bones and throw over his ashes offal and ordure. “We hear and obey,” answered they, and did with him all she bade; and, when the folk saw what had befallen the Christian, they said, “Serve him right; but what an unlucky mouthful was that for him!” And another said, “Be the far one’s wife divorced if this vow be broken: never again to the end of my days will I eat of sugared rice!”; and the Hashish-eater cried “Praised be Allah, who spared me this fellow’s fate by saving me from eating of that same rice!” Then they all went out, holding it thenceforth unlawful to sit over against the dish of sweet rice as the Nazarene had sat. Now when the first day of the third month came, they laid the tables according to custom, and covered them with dishes and chargers, and Queen Zumurrud came down and sat on her throne, with her guards in attendance, as of wont, in awe of her dignity and majesty. Then the townsfolk entered as before and went round about the tables, looking for the place of the dish of sweet rice, and quoth one to another, “Hark ye, O Hájí1 Khalaf!”; and the other answered, “At thy service, O Hájí Khálid.” Said Khálid, “Avoid the dish of sweet rice and look thou eat not thereof; for, if thou do, by early morning thou will be hanged.”2 Then they sat down to meat around the table; and, as they were eating, Queen Zumurrud chanced to look from her throne and saw a man come running in through the gate of the horse-course; and having considered him attentively, she knew him for Jawan the Kurdish thief who murdered the trooper. Now the cause of his coming was this: when he left his mother, he went to his comrades and said to them, “I did good business yesterday; for I slew a trooper and took his horse. Moreover there fell to me last night a pair of saddle-bags, full of gold, and a young lady worth more than the money in pouch; and I have left all that with my mother in the cave.” At this they rejoiced and repaired to the cavern at night-fall, whilst Jawan the Kurd walked in front and the rest behind; he wishing to bring them the booty of which he had boasted. But he found the place clean empty and questioned his mother, who told him all that had befallen her; whereupon he bit his hands for regret and exclaimed, “By Allah, I will assuredly make search for the harlot and take her, wherever she is, though it be in the shell of a pistachio-nut,3 and quench my malice on her!” So he went forth in quest of her and ceased not journeying from place to place, till he came to Queen Zumurrud’s city. On entering he found the town deserted and, enquiring of some women whom he saw looking from the windows, they told him that it was the Sultan’s custom to make a banquet for the people on the first of each month and that all the lieges were bound to go and eat of it. Furthermore the women directed him to the racing-ground, where the feast was spread. So he entered at a shuffling trot; and, finding no place empty, save that before the dish of sweet rice already noticed, took his seat right opposite it and stretched out his hand towards the dish; whereupon the folk cried out to him, saying, “O our brother, what wouldst thou do?” Quoth he, “I would eat my fill of this dish.” Rejoined one of the people, “If thou eat of it thou wilt assuredly find thyself hanged to-morrow morning.” But Jawan said, “Hold thy tongue and talk not so unpleasantly.” Then he stretched out his hand to the dish and drew it to him; but it so chanced that the Hashish-eater of whom we have spoken, was sitting by him; and when he saw him take the dish, the fumes of the Hashish left his head and he fled from his place and sat down afar off, saying, “I will have nothing to do with yonder dish.” Then Jawan the Kurd put out his hand (which was very like a raven’s claws,4 scooped up therewith half the dishful and drew out his neave as it were a camel’s hoof — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab, “Hájj,” a favourite Egyptianism. We are wrong to write Hajji which an Eastern would pronounce Háj-jí.
2 This is Cairene “chaff.”
3 Whose shell fits very tight.
4 His hand was like a raven’s because he ate with thumb and two fingers and it came up with the rice about it like a camel’s hoof in dirty ground. This refers to the proverb (Burckhardt, 756), “He comes down a crow-claw (small) and comes up a camel-hoof (huge and round).”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Jawan the Kurd drew his neave from the dish as it were a camel’s hoof and rolled the lump of rice in the palm of his hand, till it was like a big orange, and threw it ravenously into his mouth; and it rolled down his gullet, with a rumble like thunder and the bottom of the deep dish appeared where said mouthful had been. Thereupon quoth to him one sitting by his side, “Praised be Allah for not making me meat between thy hands; for thou hast cleared the dish at a single mouthful;” and quoth the Hashish-eater, “Let him eat; methinks he hath a hanging face.” Then, turning to Jawan he added, “Eat and Allah give thee small good of it.” So Jawan put out his hand again and taking another mouthful, was rolling it in his palm like the first, when behold, the Queen cried out to the guards saying, “Bring me yonder man in haste and let him not eat the mouthful in his hand.” So they ran and seizing him as he hung over the dish, brought him to her, and set him in her presence, whilst the people exulted over his mishap and said one to the other, “Serve him right, for we warned him, but he would not take warning. Verily, this place is bound to be the death of whoso sitteth therein, and yonder rice bringeth doom to all who eat of it.” Then said Queen Zumurrud to Jawan, “What is thy name and trade and wherefore comest thou to our city?” Answered he, “O our lord the Sultan, my name is Othman; I work as a gardener and am come hither in quest of somewhat I have lost.” Quoth Zumurrud, “Here with a table of sand!” So they brought it, and she took the pen and drawing a geomantic scheme, considered it awhile, then raising her head, exclaimed, “Woe to thee, thou loser! How darest thou lie to Kings? This sand telleth me that of a truth thy name is Jawan the Kurd and that thou art by trade a robber, taking men’s goods in the way of unright and slaying those whom Allah hath forbidden to slay save for just cause.” And she cried out upon him, saying, “O hog, tell me the truth of thy case or I will cut off thy head on the spot.” Now when he heard these words, he turned yellow and his teeth chattered; then, deeming that he might save himself by truth-telling, he replied, “O King, thou sayest sooth; but I repent at thy hands henceforth and turn to Allah Almighty!” She answered, “It were not lawful for me to leave a pest in the way of Moslems;” and cried to her guards, “Take him and skin him and do with him as last month ye did by his like.” They obeyed her commandment; and, when the Hashish-eater saw the soldiers seize the man, he turned his back upon the dish of rice, saying, “’Tis a sin to present my face to thee!” And after they had made an end of eating, they dispersed to their several homes and Zumurrud returned to her palace and dismissed her attendants. Now when the fourth month came round, they went to the race-course and made the banquet, according to custom, and the folk sat awaiting leave to begin. Presently Queen Zumurrud entered and, sitting down on her throne, looked at the tables and saw that room for four people was left void before the dish of rice, at which she wondered. Now as she was looking around, behold, she saw a man come trotting in at the gate of the horse-course; and he stayed not till he stood over the food-trays; and, finding no room save before the dish of rice, took his seat there. She looked at him and knowing him for the accursed Christian who called himself Rashid al-Din, said in her mind, “How blessed is this device of the food,1 into whose toils this infidel hath fallen” Now the cause of his coming was extraordinary, and it was on this wise. When he returned from his travels — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Easterns have a superstitious belief in the powers of food: I knew a learned man who never sat down to eat without a ceremonious salam to his meat.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the accursed, who had called himself Rashid al-Din, returned from travel, his household informed him that Zumurrud was missing and with her a pair of saddle-bags full of money; on hearing which ill tidings he rent his raiment and buffeted his face and plucked out his beard. Then he despatched his brother Barsum in quest of her to lands adjoining and, when he was weary of awaiting news of him, he went forth himself, to seek for him and for the girl, whenas fate led him to the city of Zumurrud. He entered it on the first day of the month and finding the streets deserted and the shops shut and women idling at the windows, he asked them the reason why, and they told him that the King made a banquet on the first of each month for the people, all of whom were bound to attend it, nor might any abide in his house or shop that day; and they directed him to the racing-plain. So he betook himself thither and found the people crowding about the food, and there was never a place for him save in front of the rice-dish now well-known. Here then he sat and put forth his hand to eat thereof, whereupon Zumurrud cried out to her guards, saying, “Bring me him who sitteth over against the dish of rice.” So they knew him by what had before happened and laid hands on him and brought him before Queen Zumurrud, who said to him, “Out on thee! What is thy name and trade, and what bringeth thee to our city?” Answered he, “O King of the age, my name is Rustam1 and I have no occupation, for I am a poor dervish.” Then said she to her attendants, “Bring me table of sand and pen of brass.” So they brought her what she sought, as of wont; and she took the pen and made the dots which formed the figure and considered it awhile, then raising her head to Rashid al-Din, she said, “O dog, how darest thou lie to Kings? Thy name is Rashid al-Din the Nazarene, thou art outwardly a Moslem, but a Christian at heart, and thine occupation is to lay snares for the slave-girls of the Moslems and make them captives. Speak the truth, or I will smite off thy head.” He hesitated and stammered, then replied, “Thou sayest sooth, O King of the age!” Whereupon she commanded to throw him down and give him an hundred blows with a stick on each sole and a thousand stripes with a whip on his body; after which she bade flay him and stuff his skin with herds of flax and dig a pit without the city, wherein they should burn his corpse and cast on his ashes offal-and ordure. They did as she bade them and she gave the people leave to eat. So they ate and when they had eaten their fill they went their ways, while Queen Zumurrud returned to her palace, saying, “I thank Allah for solacing my heart of those who wronged me.” Then she praised the Creator of the earth and the heavens and repeated these couplets,
“They ruled awhile and theirs was harsh tyrannic rule,
But soon that rule went by as though it never were:
If just they had won justice; but they sinned, and so
The world collected all its bane for them to bear:
So died they and their case’s tongue declares aloud
This is for that so of the world your blaming spare.”
And when her verse was ended she called to mind her lord Ali Shar and wept flowing tears; but presently recovered herself and said, “Haply Allah, who hath given mine enemies into my hand, will vouchsafe me the speedy return of my beloved;” and she begged forgiveness of Allah (be He extolled and exalted’)— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 464), uses the vile Turkish corruption “Rustum,” which, like its fellow “Rustem,” would make a Persian shudder.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen begged forgiveness of Allah (be He extolled and exalted!), and said, “Haply He will vouchsafe me speedy reunion with my beloved Ali Shar for He can do what He willeth and to His servants showeth grace, ever mindful of their case!” Then she praised Allah and again besought forgiveness of Him, submitting herself to the decrees of destiny, assured that each beginning hath his end, and repeating the saying of the poet,
“Take all things easy; for all worldly things
In Allah’s hand are ruled by Destiny:
Ne’er shall befal thee aught of things forbidden,
Nor what is bidden e’er shall fail to thee!”
And what another saith.
“Roll up thy days1 and easy shall they roll
Through life, nor haunt the house of grief and dole:
Full many a thing, which is o’er hard to find,
Next hour shall bring thee to delight thy soul.”
And what a third saith,2
“Be mild what time thou’rt ta’en with anger and despite
And patient, if there fall misfortune on thy head.
Indeed, the nights are quick and great with child by Time
And of all wondrous things are hourly brought to bed.”
And what a fourth saith,
“Take patience which breeds good if patience thou can learn;
Be calm soured, scaping anguish-draughts that gripe and bren:
Know, that if patience with good grace thou dare refuse,
With ill-graced patience thou shalt bear what wrote the Pen.”
After which she abode thus another whole month’s space, judging the folk and bidding and forbidding by day, and by night weeping and bewailing her separation from her lord Ali Shar. On the first day of the fifth month, she bade them spread the banquet on the race-plain, according to custom, and sat down at the head of the tables, whilst the lieges awaited the signal to fall to, leaving the place before the dish of rice vacant. She sat with eyes fixed upon the gate of the horse-course, noting all who entered and saying in her soul, “O Thou who restoredest Joseph to Jacob and diddest away the sorrows of Job,3 vouchsafe of Thy might and Thy majesty to restore me my lord Ali Shar; for Thou over all things art Omnipotent, O Lord of the Worlds! O Guide of those who go astray! O Hearer of those that cry! O Answerer of those who pray, answer Thou my prayer, O Lord of all creatures.” Now hardly had she made an end of her prayer and supplication when behold, she saw entering the gate of the horse-plain a young man, in shape like a willow branch, the comeliest of youths and the most accomplished, save that his face was wan and his form wasted by weariness. Now as he entered and came up to the tables, he found no seat vacant save that over against the dish of sweet rice so he sat down there; and, when Zumurrud looked upon him, her heart fluttered and, observing him narrowly, she knew him for her lord Ali Shar, and was like to have cried out for joy, but restrained herself, fearing disgrace before the folk and, albeit her bowels yearned over him and her heart beat wildly, she hid what she felt. Now the cause of his coming thither was on this wise. After he fell asleep upon the bench and Zumurrud let herself down to him and Jawan the Kurd seized her, he presently awoke and found himself lying with his head bare, so he knew that some one had come upon him and had robbed him of his turband whilst he slept. So he spoke the saying which shall never shame its sayer and, which is, “Verily, we are Allah’s and to Him are we returning!” and, going back to the old woman’s house, knocked at the door. She came out and he wept before her, till he fell down in a fainting fit. Now when he came to himself, he told her all that had passed, and she blamed him and chid him for his foolish doings saying, “Verily thine affliction and calamity come from thyself.” And she gave not over reproaching him, till the blood streamed from his nostrils and he again fainted away. When he recovered from his swoon — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Darrij” i.e. let them slide (Americanicè).
2 This tetrastich has occurred before: so I quote Mr. Payne (in loco).
3 Shaykh of Al–Butnah and Jábiyah, therefore a Syrian of the Hauran near Damascus and grandson to Isú (Esau). Arab mystics (unlike the vulgar who see only his patience) recognise that inflexible integrity which refuses to utter “words of wind” and which would not, against his conscience, confess to wrong-doing merely to pacify the Lord who was stronger than himself. The Classics taught this noble lesson in the case of Prometheus versus Zeus. Many articles are called after Job e.g. Ra’ará’ Ayyub or Ghubayrá (inula Arabica and undulata), a creeper with which he rubbed himself and got well: the Copts do the same on “Job’s Wednesday,” i.e. that before Whit Sunday O.S. Job’s father is a nickname of the camel, etc. etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ali Shar recovered from his swoon he saw the old woman bewailing his griefs and weeping over him; so he complained of his hard lot and repeated these two couplets,
“How bitter to friends is a parting,
And a meeting how sweet to the lover!
Allah join all the lovers He parteth,
And save me who of love ne’er recover.”1
The old woman mourned over him and said to him, “Sit here, whilst I go in quest of news for thee and return to thee in haste.” “To hear is to obey,” answered he. So she left him on her good errand and was absent till midday, when she returned and said to him, “O Ali, I fear me thou must die in thy grief; thou wilt never see thy beloved again save on the bridge Al–Sirát;2 for the people of the Christian’s house, when they arose in the morning, found the window giving on the garden torn from its hinges and Zumurrud missing, and with her a pair of saddle-bags full of the Christian’s money. And when I came thither, I saw the Chief of Police standing at the door, he and his many, and there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Now, as Ali Shar heard these words, the light in his sight was changed to the darkness of night and he despaired of life and made sure of death; nor did he leave weeping, till he lost his senses. When he revived, love and longing were sore upon him; there befel him a grievous sickness and he kept his house a whole year; during which the old woman ceased not to bring him doctors and ply him with ptisanes and diet-drinks and make him savoury broths till, after the twelve-month ended, his life returned to him. Then he recalled what had passed and repeated these couplets,
“Severance-grief nighmost, Union done to death,
Down-railing tear-drops, heart fire tortureth!
Redoubleth pine in one that hath no peace
For love and wake and woe he suffereth:
O Lord, if there be thing to joy my soul
Deign Thou bestow it while I breathe my breath.”
When the second year began, the old woman said to him, “O my son, all this thy weeping and wailing will not bring thee back thy mistress. Rise, therefore, gird the loins of resolution and seek for her in the lands: peradventure thou shalt light on some news of her.” And she ceased not to exhort and hearten him, till he took courage and she carried him to the Hammam. Then she made him drink strong wine and eat white meats, and thus she did with him for a whole month, till he regained strength; and setting out journeyed without ceasing till he arrived at Zumurrud’s city where he went to the horse-course, and sat down before the dish of sweet rice and put out his hand to eat of it. Now when the folk saw this, they were concerned for him and said to him, “O young man, eat not of that dish, for whoso eateth thereof, misfortune befalleth him.” Answered he, “Leave me to eat of it, and let them do with me what they will, so haply shall I be at rest from this wearying life.” Accordingly he ate a first mouthful, and Zumurrud was minded to have him brought before her, but then she bethought her that belike he was an hungered and said to herself, “It were properer to let him eat his fill.” So he went on eating, whilst the folk looked at him in astonishment, waiting to see what would betide him; and, when he had satisfied himself, Zumurrud said to certain of her eunuchry, “Go to yonder youth who eateth of the rice and bring him to me in courteous guise, saying: ‘Answer the summons of the King who would have a word with thee on some slight matter.’” They replied, “We hear and obey,” and going straightways up to Ali Shar, said to him, “O my lord, be pleased to answer the summons of the King and let thy heart be at ease.” Quoth he, “Hearkening and obedience;” and followed the eunuchs — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (in loco) renders “I am of their number.” But “fí al-siyák” means popularly “(driven) to the point of death.”
2 Lit. = “pathway, road”; hence the bridge well known as “finer than a hair and sharper than a sword,” over which all (except Khadijah and a chosen few) must pass on the Day of Doom; a Persian apparatus bodily annexed by Al–Islam. The old Guebres called it Puli Chinávar or Chinávad and the Jews borrowed it from them as they did all their fancies of a future life against which Moses had so gallantly fought. It is said that a bridge over the grisly “brook Kedron” was called Sirát (the road) and hence the idea, as that of hell-fire from Ge–Hinnom (Gehenna) where children were passed through the fire to Moloch. A doubtful Hadis says, “The Prophet declared Al–Sirát to be the name of a bridge over hell-fire, dividing Hell from Paradise” (pp. 17, 122, Reynold’s trans. of Al–Siyuti’s Traditions, etc.). In Koran i. 5, “Sirat” is simply a path, from sarata, he swallowed, even as the way devours (makes a lakam or mouthful of) those who travel it. The word was orig. written with Sín but changed for easier articulation to Sád, one of the four Hurúf al-Mutabbakát, “the flattened,” formed by the broadened tongue in contact with the palate. This Sad also by the figure Ishmám (=conversion) turns slightly to a Zá, the intermediate between Sin and Sad.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ali Shar rejoined, “Hearkening and obedience;” and followed the eunuchs, whilst the people said to one another, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! I wonder what the King will do with him!” And others said, “He will do him naught but good: for had he intended to harm him, he had not suffered him to eat his fill.” Now when the Castratos set him in presence of Zumurrud he saluted and kissed the earth before her, whilst she returned his salutation and received him with honour. Then she asked him, “What may be thy name and trade, and what brought thee to our city?”; and he answered, “O King my name is Ali Shar; I am of the sons of the merchants of Khorasan; and the cause of my coming hither is to seek for a slave-girl whom I have lost for she was dearer to me than my hearing and my seeing, and indeed my soul cleaveth to her, since I lost her; and such is my tale.” So saying he wept, till he swooned away; whereupon she bade them sprinkle rose-water on his face, which they did till he revived, when she said, “Here with the table of sand and the brass pen.” So they brought them and she took the pen and struck a geomantic scheme which she considered awhile; and then cried, “Thou hast spoken sooth, Allah will grant thee speedy reunion with her; so be not troubled.” Upon this she commanded her head- chamberlain to carry him to the bath and afterwards to clothe him in a handsome suit of royal-apparel, and mount him on one of the best of the King’s horses and finally bring him to the palace at the last of the day. So the Chamberlain, after saying “I hear and I obey,” took him away, whilst the folk began to say to one another, “What maketh the King deal thus courteously with yonder youth?” And quoth one, “Did I not tell you that he would do him no hurt?; for he is fair of aspect; and this I knew, ever since the King suffered him to eat his fill.” And each said his say; after which they all dispersed and went their ways. As for Zumurrud, she thought the night would never come, that she might be alone with the beloved of her heart. As soon as it was dark, she withdrew to her sleeping-chamber and made her attendants think her overcome with sleep; and it was her wont to suffer none to pass the night with her save those two little eunuchs who waited upon her. After a while when she had composed herself, she sent for her dear Ali Shar and sat down upon the bed, with candles burning over her head and feet, and hanging lamps of gold lighting up the place like the rising sun. When the people heard of her sending for Ali Shar, they marvelled thereat and each man thought his thought and said his say; but one of them declared, “At all events the King is in love with this young man, and to-morrow he will make him generalissimo of the army.”1 Now when they brought him into her, he kissed the ground between her hands and called down blessings her, and she said in her mind, “There is no help for it but that I jest with him awhile, before I make myself known to him.’’2 Then she asked him, “O Ali, say me, hast thou been to the Hammam?”3 and he answered, “Yes, O my lord.” Quoth she, “Come, eat of this chicken and meat, and drink of this wine and sherbet of sugar; for thou art weary; and after that come thou hither.” “I hear and I obey,” replied he and did as she commanded him do. Now when he had made an end of eating and drinking, she said to him, “Come up with me on the couch and shampoo4 my feet.” So he fell to rubbing feet and kneading calves, and found them softer than silk. Then said she, “Go higher with the massage;” and he, “Pardon me, O my lord, to the knee but no farther!” Whereupon quoth she, “Durst thou disobey me?: it shall be an ill-omened night for thee!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The rule in Turkey where catamites rise to the highest rank: C’est un homme de bonne famille (said a Turkish officer in Egypt) il a été acheté. Hence “Alfi” (one who costs a thousand) is a well-known cognomen. The Pasha of the Syrian caravan, with which I travelled’ had been the slave of a slave and he was not a solitary instance. (Pilgrimage i. 90.)
2 The device of the banquet is dainty enough for any old Italian novella; all that now comes is pure Egyptian polissonnerie speaking to the gallery and being answered by roars of laughter.
3 i.e. “art thou ceremonially pure and therefore fit for handling by a great man like myself?”
4 In past days before Egypt was “frankified” many overlanders used to wash away the traces of travel by a Turkish bath which mostly ended in the appearance of a rump wriggling little lad who offered to shampoo them. Many accepted his offices without dreaming of his usual-use or misuse.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Zumurrud cried to her lord, Ali Shar, “Durst thou disobey me?: it shall be an ill-omened night for thee! Nay, but it behoveth thee to do my bidding and I will make thee my minion and appoint thee one of my Emirs.” Asked Ali Shar, “And in what must I do thy bidding, O King of the age?” and she answered, “Doff thy trousers and lie down on thy face.” Quoth he, “That is a thing in my life I never did; and if thou force me thereto, verily I will accuse thee thereof before Allah on Resurrection-day. Take everything thou hast given me and let me go from thy city.” And he wept and lamented; but she said, “Doff thy trousers and lie down on thy face, or I will strike off thy head.” So he did as she bade him and she mounted upon his back; and he felt what was softer than silk and smoother than cream and said in himself, “Of a truth, this King is nicer than all the women!” Now for a time she abode on his back, then she turned over on the bed, and he said to himself, “Praised be Allah! It seemeth his yard is not standing.” Then said she, “O Ali, it is of the wont of my prickle that it standeth not, except they rub it with their hands; so, come, rub it with thy hand, till it be at stand, else will I slay thee.” So saying, she lay down on her back and taking his hand, set it to her parts, and he found these same parts softer than silk; white, plumply-rounded, protuberant, resembling for heat the hot room of the bath or the heart of a lover whom love-longing hath wasted. Quoth Ali in himself, “Verily, our King hath a coynte; this is indeed a wonder of wonders!” And lust get hold on him and his yard rose and stood upright to the utmost of its height; which when Zumurrud saw, she burst out laughing and said to him, “O my lord, all this happeneth and yet thou knowest me not!” He asked “And who art thou, O King?”; and she answered, “I am thy slave-girl Zumurrud.” Now whenas he knew this and was certified that she was indeed his very slave-girl, Zumurrud, he kissed her and embraced her and threw himself upon her as the lion upon the lamb. Then he sheathed his steel rod in her scabbard and ceased not to play the porter at her door and the preacher in her pulpit and the priest1 at her prayer niche, whilst she with him ceased not from inclination and prostration and rising up and sitting down, accompanying her ejaculations of praise and of “Glory to Allah!” with passionate movements and wrigglings and claspings of his member2 and other amorous gestures, till the two little eunuchs heard the noise. So they came and peeping from behind the curtains saw the King lying on his back and upon him Ali Shar, thrusting and slashing whilst she puffed and blew and wriggled. Quoth they, “Verily, this be no man’s wriggle: belike this King is a woman.’’3 But they concealed their affair and discovered it to none. And when the morrow came, Zumurrud summoned all the troops and the lords of the realm and said to them, “I am minded to journey to this man’s country; so choose you a viceroy, who shall rule over you till I return to you.” And they answered, “We hear and we obey.” Then she applied herself to making ready the wants of the way, to wit provaunt and provender, monies and rarities for presents, camels and mules and so forth; after which she set out from her city with Ali Shar, and they ceased not faring on, till they arrived at his native place, where he entered his house and gave many gifts to his friends and alms and largesse to the poor. And Allah vouchsafed him children by her, and they both lived the gladdest and happiest of lives, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies and the Garnerer of graves. And glorified be He the Eternal without cease, and praised be He in every case! And amongst other tales they tell one of
1 Arab. “Imám.” This is (to a Moslem) a most offensive comparison between prayer and car. cop.
2 Arab. “Fi zaman-hi,” alluding to a peculiarity highly prized by Egyptians; the use of the constrictor vaginæ muscles, the sphincter for which Abyssinian women are famous. The “Kabbázah” ( = holder), as she is called, can sit astraddle upon a man and can provoke the venereal-orgasm, not by wriggling and moving but by tightening and loosing the male member with the muscles of her privities, milking it as it were. Consequently the cassenoisette costs treble the money of other concubines. (Arranga–Ranga, p. 127.)
3 The little eunuchs had evidently studied the Harem.
It is related that the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid was uneasy1 one night and could not sleep; so that he ceased not to toss from side to side for very restlessness, till, growing weary of this, he called Masrur and said to him, “Ho, Masrur, find me some one who may solace me in this my wakefulness.” He answered, “O Prince of True Believers, wilt thou walk in the palace-garden and divert thyself with the sight of its blooms and gaze upon the stars and constellations and note the beauty of their ordinance and the moon among them rising in sheen over the water?” Quoth the Caliph, “O Masrur, my heart inclineth not to aught of this.” Quoth he, “O my lord, there are in thy palace three hundred concubines, each of whom hath her separate chamber. Do thou bid all and every retire into her own apartment and then do thou go thy rounds and amuse thyself with gazing on them without their knowledge.” The Caliph replied, “O Masrur, the palace is my palace and the girls are my property: furthermore my soul inclineth not to aught of this.” Then Masrur rejoined, “O my lord, summon the doctors of law and religion and the sages of science and poets, and bid them contend before thee in argument and disputation and recite to thee songs and verses and tell thee tales and anecdotes.” Replied the Caliph, “My soul inclineth not to aught of this;” and Masrur rejoined, “O my lord, bid pretty boys and the wits and the cup-companions attend thee and solace thee with witty sallies.” “O Masrur,” ejaculated the Caliph, “indeed my soul inclineth not to aught of this.” “Then, O my lord,” cried Masrur, “strike off my head;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 494) relates from Al–Makrizi, that when Khamárawayh, Governor of Egypt (ninth century), suffered from insomnia, his physician ordered a pool of quicksilver 50 by 50 cubits, to be laid out in front of his palace, now the Rumaylah square. “At the corners of the pool were silver pegs, to which were attached by silver rings strong bands of silk, and a bed of skins, inflated with air, being thrown upon the pool and secured by the bands remained in a continual-state of agreeable vacillation.” We are not told that the Prince was thereby salivated like the late Colonel Sykes when boiling his mercury for thermometric experiments,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Masrur cried out to the Caliph, “O my lord, strike off my head; haply that will dispel thine unease and do away the restlessness that is upon thee.” So Al–Rashid laughed at his saying and said, “See which of the boon-companions is at the door.” Thereupon he went out and returning, said, “O my lord, he who sits without is Ali bin Mansur of Damascus, the Wag.”1 “Bring him to me,” quoth Harun: and Masrur went out and returned with Ibn Mansur, who said, on entering, “Peace be with thee, O Commander of the Faithful!” The Caliph returned his salutation and said to him, “O Ibn Mansur, tell us some of thy stories.” Said the other, “O Commander of the Faithful, shall I tell thee what I have seen with my eyes or what I have only heard tell?” Replied the Caliph, “If thou have seen aught worth telling, let us hear it; for hearing is not like seeing.” Said Ibn Mansur, “O Commander of the Faithful, lend me thine ear and thy heart;” and he answered, “O Ibn Mansur, behold, I am listening to thee with mine ears and looking at thee with mine eyes and attending to thee with my heart.” So Ibn Mansur began: “Know then, O Commander of the Faithful, that I receive a yearly allowance from Mohammed bin Sulaymán al-Háshimi, Sultan of Bassorah; so I went to him once upon a time, as usual, and found him ready to ride out hunting and birding. I saluted him and he returned my salute, and said, ‘O son of Mansur, mount and come with us to the chase:’ but I said, ‘O my lord, I can no longer ride; so do thou station me in the guest-house and give thy chamberlains and lieutenants charge over me.’ And he did so and departed for his sport. His people entreated me with the utmost honour and entertained me with the greatest hospitality; but said I to myself, ‘By Allah, it is a strange thing that for so long I have been in the habit of coming from Baghdad to Bassorah, yet know no more of this town than from palace to garden and from garden to palace. When shall I find an occasion like this to view the different parts and quarters of Bassorah? I will rise forthwith and walk forth alone and divert myself and digest what I have eaten.’ Accordingly I donned my richest dress and went out a walking about Bassorah. Now it is known to thee, O Commander of the Faithful, that it hath seventy streets, each seventy leagues2 long, the measure of Irak; and I lost myself in its by-streets and thirst overcame me. Presently, as I went along, O Prince of True Believers, behold, I came to a great door, whereon were two rings of brass,3 with curtains of red brocade drawn before it. And on either side of the door was a stone bench and over it was a trellis, covered with a creeping vine that hung down and shaded the door way. I stood still to gaze upon the place, and presently heard a sorrowful voice, proceeding from a heart which did not rejoice, singing melodiously and chanting these cinquains,
‘My body bides the sad abode of grief and malady,
Caused by a fawn whose land and home are in a far countrie:
O ye two Zephyrs of the wold which caused such pain in me
By Allah, Lord of you! to him my heart’s desire, go ye
And chide him so perchance ye soften him I pray.
And tell us all his words if he to hear your speech shall deign,
And unto him the tidings bear of lovers ‘twixt you twain:
And both vouchsafe to render me a service free and fain,
And lay my case before him showing how I e’er complain:
And say, ‘What ails thy bounder thrall this wise to drive away,
Without a fault committed and without a sin to show;
Or heart that leans to other wight or would thy love forego:
Or treason to our plighted troth or causing thee a throe?’
And if he smile then say ye twain in accents soft and slow,
‘An thou to him a meeting grant ‘twould be the kindest way!
For he is gone distraught for thee, as well indeed, he might
His eyes are wakeful and he weeps and wails the livelong night:’
If seem he satisfied by this why then ’tis well and right,
But if he show an angry face and treat ye with despite,
Trick him and ‘Naught we know of him!’ I beg you both to say.’
Quoth I to myself, ‘Verily, if the owner of this voice be fair, she conjoineth beauty of person and eloquence and sweetness of voice.’ Then I drew near the door, and began raising the curtain little by little, when lo! I beheld a damsel, white as a full moon when it mooneth on its fourteenth night, with joined eyebrows twain and languorous lids of eyne, breasts like pomegranates twin and dainty, lips like double carnelian, a mouth as it were the seal-of Solomon, and teeth ranged in a line that played with the reason of proser and rhymer, even as saith the poet,
‘O pearly mouth of friend, who set those pretty pearls in line,
And filled thee full of whitest chamomile and reddest wine?
Who lent the morning-glory in thy smile to shimmer and shine
Who with that ruby-padlock dared thy lips to seal-and sign!
Who looks on thee at early morn with stress of joy and bliss
Goes mad for aye, what then of him who wins a kiss of thine?’4
And as saith another,
‘O pearl-set mouth of friend
Pity poor Ruby’s cheek
Boast not o’er one who owns
Thee, union and unique.’
In brief she comprised all varieties of loveliness and was a seduction to men and women, nor could the gazer satisfy himself with the sight of her charms; for she was as the poet hath said of her,
‘When comes she, slays she; and when back he turns,
She makes all men regard with loving eyes:
A very sun! a very moon! but still
Prom hurt and harmful ills her nature flies.
Opes Eden’s garden when she shows herself,
And full moon see we o’er her necklace rise.’
How as I was looking at her through an opening of the curtain, behold, she turned; and, seeing me standing at the door, said to her handmaid, ‘See who is at the door.’ So the slave-girl came up to me and said, ‘O Shaykh, hast thou no shame, or do impudent airs suit hoary hairs?’ Quoth I, ‘O my mistress, I confess to the hoary hairs, but as for impudent airs, I think not to be guilty of unmannerliness.’ Then the mistress broke in, ‘And what can be more unmannerly than to intrude thyself upon a house other than thy house and gaze on a Harim other than thy Harim?’ I pleaded, ‘O my lady, I have an excuse;’ and when she asked, ‘And what is thine excuse?’ I answered, ‘I am a stranger and so thirsty that I am well nigh dead of thirst.’ She rejoined, ‘We accept thine excuse,’ — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The name seems now unknown. “Al–Khahí‘a” is somewhat stronger than “Wag,” meaning at least a “wicked wit.” Properly it is the Span. “perdido,” a youth cast off (Khala’) by his friends; though not so strong a term as “Harfúsh”=a blackguard.
2 Arab. “Farsakh”=parasang.
3 Arab. “Nahás asfar”=yellow copper, brass as opposed to Nahás ahmar=copper The reader who cares to study the subject will find much about it in my “Book of The Sword,” chaps. iv.
4 Lane (ii. 479) translates one stanza of this mukhammas (pentastich) and speaks of “five more,” which would make six.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young lady rejoined, ‘We accept thine excuse,’ and calling one of her slave maids, said to her, ‘O Lutf,1 give him to drink in the golden tankard.’ So she brought me a tankard of red gold, set with pearls and gems of price, full of water mingled with virgin musk and covered with a napkin of green silk, and I addressed myself to drink and was long about my drinking, for I stole glances at her the while, till I could prolong my stay no longer. Then I returned the tankard to the girl, but did not offer to go; and she said to me, ‘O Shaykh, wend thy way.’ But I said, ‘O my lady, I am troubled in mind.’ She asked me ‘for what?’ and I answered, ‘For the turns of Time and the change of things.’ Replied she, ‘Well mayst thou be troubled thereat for Time breedeth wonders. But what hast thou seen of such surprises that thou shouldst muse upon them?’ Quoth I, ‘I was thinking of the whilom owner of this house, for he was my intimate in his lifetime.’ Asked she, ‘What was his name?’; and I answered, ‘Mohammed bin Ali the Jeweller and he was a man of great wealth. Tell me did he leave any children?’ Said she, ‘Yes, he left a daughter, Budur by name, who inherited all his wealth?’ Quoth I, ‘Meseemeth thou art his daughter?’ ‘Yes,’ answered she, laughing; then added, ‘O Shaykh, thou best talked long enough; now wend thy ways.’ Replied I, ‘Needst must I go, but I see thy charms are changed by being out of health; so tell me thy case; it may be Allah will give thee comfort at my hands.’ Rejoined she, ‘O Shayth, if thou be a man of discretion, I will discover to thee my secret; but first tell me who thou art, that I may know whether thou art worthy of confidence or not; for the poet saith,2
‘None keepeth a secret but a faithful person: with the best of mankind remaineth concealed.
I have kept my secret in a house with a lock, whose key is lost and whose door is sealed.’
Thereto I replied, ‘O my lady, an thou wouldest know who I am, I am Ali bin Mansúr of Damascus, the Wag, cup-companion to the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid.’ Now when she heard my name, she came down from her seat and saluting me, said, ‘Welcome, O Ibn Mansur! Now will I tell thee my case and entrust thee with my secret. I am a lover separated from her beloved.’ I answered, ‘O my lady, thou art fair and shouldest be on love terms with none but the fair. Whom then dost thou love?’ Quoth she, ‘I love Jubayr bin Umayr al-Shaybáni, Emir of the Banú Shaybán;3’ and she described to me a young man than whom there was no prettier fellow in Bassorah. I asked, ‘O my lady, have interviews or letters passed between you?’ and she answered ‘Yes, but our love was tongue-love souls, not heart and souls-love; for he kept not his trust nor was he faithful to his troth.’ Said I, ‘O my lady, and what was the cause of your separation?’, and she replied, ‘I was sitting one day whilst my handmaid here combed my hair. When she had made an end of combing it, she plaited my tresses, and my beauty and loveliness charmed her; so she bent over me and kissed my cheek.4 At that moment he came in unawares, and, seeing the girl kiss my cheek, straightways turned away in anger, vowing eternal-separation and repeating these two couplets,
‘If another share in the thing I love,
I abandon my love and live lorn of love.
My beloved is worthless if aught she will,
Save that which her lover doth most approve.
And from the time he left me to this present hour, O Ibn Mansur, he hath neither written to me nor answered my letters.’ Quoth I, ‘And what purposes” thou to do?’ Quoth she, ‘I have a mind to send him a letter by thee. If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt have of me five hundred gold pieces; and if not, then an hundred for thy trouble in going and coming.’ I answered, ‘Do what seemeth good to thee; I hear and I obey thee.’ Whereupon she called to one of her slave-girls, ‘Bring me ink case and paper,’ and she wrote thereon these couplets,
‘Beloved, why this strangeness, why this hate?
When shall thy pardon reunite us two?
Why dost thou turn from me in severance?
Thy face is not the face I am wont to know.
Yes, slanderers falsed my words, and thou to them
Inclining, madest spite and envy grow.
An hast believed their tale, the Heavens forbid
Now thou believe it when dost better bow!
By thy life tell what hath reached thine ear,
Thou know’st what said they and so justice show.
An it be true I spoke the words, my words
Admit interpreting and change allow:
Given that the words of Allah were revealed,
Folk changed the Torah5 and still changing go:
What slanders told they of mankind before!
Jacob heard Joseph blamed by tongue of foe.
Yea, for myself and slanderer and thee
An awful day of reckoning there shall be.’
Then she sealed the letter and gave it to me; and I took it and carried it to the house of Jubayr bin Umayr, whom I found absent a hunting. So I sat down to wait for him; and behold, he returned from the chase; and when I saw him, O Prince of True Believers, come riding up, my wit was confounded by his beauty and grace. As soon as he sighted me sitting at the house-door, he dismounted and coming up to me embraced me and saluted me; and meseemed I embraced the world and all therein. Then he carried me into his house and, seating me on his own couch, called for food. They brought a table of Khalanj-wood of Khorasan with feet of gold, whereon were all manners of meats, fried and roasted and the like. So I seated myself at the table and examining it with care found these couplets engraved upon it:”6 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 A servile name. Delicacy, Elegance.
2 These verses have occurred twice (Night ix. etc.): so I give Lane’s version (ii. 482).
3 A Badawi tribe to which belonged the generous Ma’an bin Za’idab, often mentioned The Nights.
4 Wealthy harems, I have said, are hot-beds of Sapphism and Tribadism. Every woman past her first youth has a girl whom she calls her “Myrtle” (in Damascus). At Agbome, capital-of Dahome, I found that a troop of women was kept for the use of the “Amazons” (Mission to Gelele, ii. 73). Amongst the wild Arabs, who ignore Socratic and Sapphic perversions, the lover is always more jealous of his beloved’s girl-friends than of men rivals. In England we content ourselves with saying that women corrupt women more than men do.
5 The Hebrew Pentateuch; Roll of the Law.
6 I need hardly notice the brass trays, platters and table-covers with inscriptions which are familiar to every reader: those made in the East for foreign markets mostly carry imitation inscriptions lest infidel eyes fall upon Holy Writ.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ali son of Mansur continued: “So I seated myself at the table of Jubayr bin Umayr al-Shaybani and, examining it with care, found these couplets engraved upon it,
‘On these which once were-chicks,
Your mourning glances fix,
Late dwellers in the mansion of the cup,
Now nearly eaten up!
Let tears bedew
The memory of that stew,
Those partridges, once roast,
Now lost!
The daughters of the grouse in plaintive strain
Bemourn, and still bemourn, and mourn again!
The children of the fry,
We lately saw
Half smothered in pilau
With buttery mutton fritters smoking by!
Alas! my heart, the fish!
Who filled his dish,
With flaky form in varying colours spread
On the round pastry cake of household bread!
Heaven sent us that kabob!
For no one could
(Save heaven he should rob)
Produce a thing so excellently good,
Or give us roasted meat
With basting oil so savourily replete!
But, oh! mine appetite, alas! for thee!
Who on that furmeaty
So sharpset west a little while ago —
That furmeaty, which mashed by hands of snow,
A light reflection bore,
Of the bright bracelets that those fair hands wore;
Again remembrance glads my sense
With visions of its excellence!
Again I see the cloth unrolled
Rich worked in many a varied fold!
Be patient, oh! my soul, they say
Fortune rules all that’s new and strange,
And though she pinches us to day,
To-morrow brings full rations, and a change!’1
Then said Jubayr, ‘Put forth thy hand to our food and ease our heart by eating of our victual.’ Answered I, ‘By Allah, I will not eat a mouthful, till thou grant me my desire.’ He asked, ‘What is thy desire?’; so I brought out the letter and gave it to him; but, when he had read it and mastered its contents, he tore it in pieces and throwing it on the floor, said to me, ‘O Ibn Mansur, I will grant thee whatever thou askest save thy desire which concerneth the writer of this letter, for I have no answer to her.’ At this I rose in anger; but he caught hold of my skirts, saying, ‘O Ibn Mansur, I will tell thee what she said to thee, albeit I was not present with you.’ I asked, ‘And what did she say to me?’; and he answered, ‘Did not the writer of this letter say to thee, If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt have of me five hundred ducats; and if not, an hundred for thy pains?’ ‘Yes,’ replied I; and he rejoined, ‘Abide with me this day and eat and drink and enjoy thyself and make merry, and thou shalt have thy five hundred ducats.’ So I sat with him and ate and drank and made merry and enjoyed myself and entertained him with talk deep in to the night;2 after which I said to him, ‘O my master, is there no music in thy house.’ He answered, ‘Verily for many a day we have drunk without music.’ Then he called out, saying, ‘Ho, Shajarat al-Durr?’ Whereupon a slave-girl answered him from her chamber and came in to us, with a lute of Hindu make, wrapped in a silken bag. And she sat down and, laying the lute in her lap, preluded in one and twenty modes; then, returning to the first, she sang to a lively measure these couplets,
‘We have ne’er tasted of Love’s sweets and bitter draught,
No difference kens ‘twixt presence-bliss and absence-stress;
And so, who hath declined from Love’s true road,
No diference kens ‘twixt smooth and ruggedness:
I ceased not to oppose the votaries of love,
Till I had tried its sweets and bitters not the less:
How many a night my pretty friend conversed with me
And sipped I from his lips honey of love liesse:
Now have I drunk its cup of bitterness, until
To bondman and to freedman I have proved me base.
How short-aged was the night together we enjoyed,
When seemed it daybreak came on nightfall’s heel to press!
But Fate had vowed to disunite us lovers twain,
And she too well hath kept her vow, that votaress.
Fate so decreed it! None her sentence can withstand:
Where is the wight who dares oppose his Lord’s command?’
Hardly had she finished her verses, when her lord cried out with a great cry and fell down in a fit; whereupon exclaimed the damsel, ‘May Allah not punish thee, O old man! This long time have we drunk without music, for fear the like of this falling sickness befal our lord. But now go thou to yonder chamber and there sleep.’ So I went to the chamber which she showed me and slept till the morning, when behold, a page brought me a purse of five hundred dinars and said to me, ‘This is what my master promised thee; but return thou not to the damsel who sent thee, god let it be as though neither thou nor we had ever heard of this matter.’ ‘Hearkening and obedience,’ answered I and taking the purse, went my way. Still I said to myself, ‘The lady must have expected me since yesterday; and by Allah there is no help but I return to her and tell her what passed between me and him: otherwise she will revile me and revile all who come from my country.’ So I went to her and found her standing behind the door; and when she saw me she said, ‘O Ibn Mansur, thou hast done nothing for me?’ I asked, ‘Who told thee of this?’; and she answered, ‘O Ibn Mansur, yet another thing hath been revealed to me;3 and it is that, when thou handedst him the letter, he tore it in pieces. and throwing it on the floor, said to thee: ‘O Ibn Mansur, I will grant thee whatever thou askest save thy desire which concerneth the writer of this letter; for I have no answer to her missive.’ Then didst thou rise from beside him in anger; but he laid hold of thy skirts, saying: ‘O son of Mansur, abide with me to day, for thou art my guest, and eat and drink and make merry; and thou shalt have thy five hundred ducats.’ So thou didst sit with him, eating and drinking and making merry, and entertainedst him with talk deep into the night and a slave-girl sang such an air and such verses, whereupon he fell down in a fit.’ So, O Commander of the Faithful, I asked her ‘West thou then with us?’; and she answered, ‘O Ibn Mansur, hast thou not heard the saying of the poet,
‘The hearts of lovers have eyes I ken,
Which see the unseen by vulgar men.’
However, O Ibn Mansur, the night and day shift not upon anything but they bring to it change.’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These six distichs are in Night xiii. I borrow Torrens (p. 125) to show his peculiar treatment of spinning out 12 lines to 38.
2 Arab. “Musámirah”=chatting at night. Easterns are inordinately fond of the practice and the wild Arabs often sit up till dawn, talking over the affairs of the tribe, indeed a Shaykh is expected to do so. “Early to bed and early to rise” is a civilised, not a savage or a barbarous saying. Samír is a companion in night talk; Rafík of the road; Rahíb in riding horse or camel, Ká‘id in sitting, Sharíb and Rafís at drink, and Nadím at table: Ahíd is an ally. and Sharík a partner all on the model of “Fa’íl.”
3 In both lover and beloved the excess of love gave them this clairvoyance.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the lady exclaimed, ‘O Ibn Mansur, the night and the day shift not upon anything but they bring to it change!’ Then she raised her glance to heaven and said, ‘O my God and my Leader and my Lord, like as Thou hast afflicted me with love of Jubayr bin Umayr, even so do Thou afflict him with love of me, and transfer the passion from my heart to his heart!’1 Then she gave me an hundred sequins for my trouble in going and coming and I took it and returned to the palace, where I found the Sultan come home from the chase; so I got my pension of him and fared back to Baghdad. And when next year came, I repaired to Bassorah, as usual, to seek my pension, and the Sultan paid it to me; but, as I was about to return to Baghdad, I bethought me of the Lady Budur and said to myself, ‘By Allah, I must needs go to her and see what hath befallen between her and her lover!’ So I went to her house and finding the street before her door swept and sprinkled and eunuchs and servants and pages standing before the entrance, said to myself, ‘Most like grief hath broken the lady’s heart and she is dead, and some Emir or other hath taken up his abode in her house.’ So I left it and went on to the house of Jubayr, son of Umayr the Shaybani, where I found the benches of the porch broken down and ne’er a page at the door, as of wont and said to myself, ‘Haply he too is dead.’ Then I stood still before the door of his house and with my eyes running over with tears, bemoaned it in these couplets,
‘O Lords of me, who fared but whom my heart e’er followeth,
Return and so my festal-days with you shall be renewed!
I stand before the home of you, bewailing your abode;
Quiver mine eyelids and my eyes with tears are ever dewed:
I ask the house and its remains that seem to weep and wail,
‘Where is the man who whilom wont to lavish goods and good?’’
It saith, ‘Go, wend thy way; those friends like travellers have fared
From Springtide-camp, and buried lie of earth and worms the food!’
Allah ne’er desolate us so we lose their virtues’ light
In length and breadth, but ever be the light in spirit viewed!’
As I, O Prince of True Believers, was thus keening over the folk of the house,2 behold, out came a black slave therefrom and said to me, ‘Hold thy peace, O Shaykh! May thy mother be reft of thee! Why do I see thee bemoaning the house in this wise?’ Quoth I, ‘I frequented it of yore, when it belonged to a good friend of mine.’ Asked the slave, ‘What was his name?’; and I answered, ‘Jubayr bin Umayr the Shaybani.’ Rejoined he, And what hath befallen him? Praised be Allah, he is yet here with us in the enjoyment of property and rank and prosperity, except that Allah hath stricken him with love of a damsel called the Lady Budur;, and he is so whelmed by his love of her and his longing for her, that he is like a great rock cumbering the ground. If he hunger, he saith not, ‘Give me meat;’ nor, if he thirst, doth he say, ‘Give me drink.’ Quoth I, ‘Ask leave for me to go in to him.’ Said the slave, ‘O my lord, wilt thou go in to one who understandeth or to one who understandeth not?’; and I said ‘There is no help for it but I see him whatever be the case.’ Accordingly he went in to ask and presently returned with permission for me to enter, whereupon I went in to Jubayr and found him like a rock that cumbereth the ground, understanding neither sign nor speech; and when I spoke to him he answered me not. Then said one of his servants, ‘O my lord, if thou remember aught of verse, repeat it and raise thy voice; and he will be aroused by this and speak with thee.’ So I versified in these two couplets,
‘Hast quit the love of Moons3 or dost persist?
Dost wake o’ nights or close in sleep thine eyes?
If aye thy tears in torrents flow, then learn
Eternal-thou shalt dwell in Paradise.’4
When he heard these verses he opened his eyes and said; ‘Welcome, O son of Mansur! Verily, the jest is become earnest.’ Quoth I, ‘O my lord, is there aught thou wouldst have me do for thee?’ Answered he, ‘Yes, I would fain write her a letter and send it to her by thee. If thou bring me back her answer, thou shalt have of me a thousand dinars; and if not, two hundred for thy pains.’ So I said, ‘Do what seemeth good to thee;’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The prayer will be granted for the excess (not the purity) of her love.
2 This wailing over the Past is one of the common-places of Badawi poetry. The traveller cannot fail, I repeat, to notice the chronic melancholy of peoples dwelling under the brightest skies.
3 Moons=Budúr
4 in Paradise as a martyr.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ibn Mansur continued: “So I said, ‘Do what seemeth good to thee;’ whereupon he called to one of his slave-girls, ‘Bring me ink case and paper;’ and wrote these couplets,
‘I pray in Allah’s name, O Princess mine, be light
On me, for Love hath robbed me of my reason’s sight’
‘Slaved me this longing and enthralled me love of you;
And clad in sickness garb, a poor and abject wight.
I wont ere this to think small things of Love and hold,
O Princess mine, ’twas silly thing and over-slight.
But when it showed me swelling surges of its sea,
To Allah’s hest I bowed and pitied lover’s plight.
An will you, pity show and deign a meeting grant,
An will you kill me still forget not good requite.’1
Then he sealed the letter and gave it to me. So I took it and, repairing to Budur’s house, raised the door-curtain little by little, as before, and looking in behold, I saw ten damsels, high-bosomed virgins, like moons, and the Lady Budur as she were the full moon among the stars, sitting in their midst, or the sun, when it is clear of clouds and mist; nor was there on her any trace of pain or care. And as I looked and marvelled at her case, she turned her glance upon me and, seeing me standing at the door, said to me, ‘Well come, and welcome and all hail to thee, O Ibn Mansur! Come in.’ So I entered and saluting her gave her the letter; and she read it and when she understood it, she said laughingly to me, ‘O Ibn Mansur, the poet lied not when he sang,
‘Indeed I’ll bear my love for thee with firmest soul,
Until from thee to me shall come a messenger.
‘Look’ye, O Ibn Mansur, I will write thee an answer, that he may give thee what he promised thee.’ And I answered, ‘Allah requite thee with good!’ So she called out to a handmaid, ‘Bring inkcase and paper,’ and wrote these couplets,
‘How comes it I fulfilled my vow the while that vow broke you?
And, seen me lean to equity, iniquity wrought you?
’Twas you initiated wrongous dealing and despite:
You were the treachetour and treason came from only you!
I never ceased to cherish mid the sons of men my troth,
And keep your honour brightest bright and swear by name of you
Until I saw with eyes of me what evil you had done;
Until I heard with ears of me what foul report spread you.
Shall I bring low my proper worth while raising yours so high?
By Allah had you me eke I had honoured you!
But now uprooting severance I will fain console my heart,
And wring my fingers clean of you for evermore to part!’
Quoth I, ‘By Allah, O my lady, between him and death there is but the reading of this letter!’ So I tore it in pieces and said to her, ‘Write him other than these lines.’ ‘I hear and obey answered she and wrote the following couplets,
‘Indeed I am consolèd now and sleep without a tear,
And all that happened slandering tongues have whispered in mine ear:
My heart obeyed my hest and soon forgot thy memory,
And learnt mine eyelids ’twas the best to live in severance sheer:
He lied who said that severance is a bitterer thing than gall:
It never disappointed me, like wine I find it cheer:
I learnt to hate all news of thee, e’en mention of thy name,
And turn away and look thereon with loathing pure and mere:
Lookye! I cast thee out of heart and far from vitals mine;
Then let the slanderer wot this truth and see I am sincere.’
Quoth I, ‘By Allah, O my lady, when he shall read these verses, his soul will depart his body!’ Quoth she, ‘O Ibn Mansur, is passion indeed come to such a pass with him that thou sayest this saying?’ Quoth I, ‘Had I said more than this verily it were but the truth: but mercy is of the nature of the noble.’ Now when she heard this her eyes brimmed over with tears and she wrote him a note, I swear by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, there is none in thy Chancery could write the like of it; and therein were these couplets,
‘How long shall I thy coyness and thy great aversion see?
Thou hast satisfied my censurers and pleased their enmity:
I did amiss and wot it not; so deign to tell me now
Whatso they told thee, haply ’twas the merest calumny.
I wish to welcome thee, dear love, even as welcome I
Sleep to these eyes and eyelids in the place of sleep to be.
And since ’tis thou hast made me drain th’ unmixèd cup of love,
If me thou see with wine bemused heap not thy blame on me!’
And when she had written the missive — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. to intercede for me in Heaven; as if the young woman were the prophet.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Budur had written the missive, she sealed it and gave it to me; and I said, ‘O my lady, in good sooth this thy letter will make the sick man whole and ease the thirsting soul.’ Then I took it and went from her, when she called me back and said to me, ‘O son of Mansur, say to him: ‘She will be thy guest this night.’ At this I joyed with exceeding great joy and carried the letter to Jubayr, whom I found with his eyes fixed intently on the door, expecting the reply and as soon as I gave him the letter and he opened and read it and understood it, he uttered a great cry and fell down in a fainting fit. When he came to himself, he said to me, ‘O Ibn Mansur, did she indeed write this note with her hand and feel it with her fingers?’ Answered I, ‘O my lord, do folk write with their feet?’ And by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I had not done speaking these words, when we heard the tinkle-tinkle of her anklets in the vestibule and she entered. And seeing her he sprang to his feet as though nothing pained or ailed him and embraced her like the letter L embraceth the letter A;1 and the infirmity, that erst would not depart at once left him.2 Then he sat down, but she abode standing and I said to her, ‘O my lady, why dost thou not sit?’ Said she, ‘O Ibn Mansur, save on a condition that is between us, I will not sit.’ I asked, ‘And what is that?’; and she answered, ‘None may know lovers’ secrets,’ and putting her mouth to Jubayr’s ear whispered to him; where upon he replied, ‘I hear and I obey.’ Then he rose and said somewhat in a whisper to one of his slaves, who went out and returned in a little while with a Kazi and two witnesses. Thereupon Jubayr stood up and taking a bag containing an hundred thousand dinars, said, O Kazi, marry me to this young lady and write this sum to her marriage-settlement.’ Quoth the Kazi to her, ‘Say thou, I consent to this.’ ‘I consent to this,’ quoth she, whereupon he drew up the contract of marriage and she opened the bag; and, taking out a handful of gold, gave it to the Kazi and the witnesses and handed the rest to Jubayr. Thereupon the Kazi and the witnesses withdrew, and I sat with them, in mirth and merriment, till the most part of the night was past, when I said in my mind, ‘These are lovers and they have been this long while separated. I will now arise and go sleep in some place afar from them and leave them to their privacy, one with other.’ So I rose, but she caught hold of my skirts, saying, ‘What thinkest thou to do?’ ‘Nothing but so and so,’ answered I; upon which she rejoined, ‘Sit thee down; and when we would be rid of thee, we will send thee away.’ So I sat down with them till near daybreak, when she said to me, ‘O Ibn Mansur, go to yonder chamber; for we have furnished it for thee and it is thy sleeping-place.’ Thereupon I arose and went thither and slept till morning, when a page brought me basin and ewer, and I made the ablution and prayed the dawn-prayer. Then I sat down and presently, behold, Jubayr and his beloved came out of the bath in the house, and I saw them both wringing their locks.3 So I wished them good morning and gave them joy of their safety and reunion, saying to Jubayr, ‘That which began with constraint and conditions hath ended in cordial-contentment.’ He answered, ‘Thou sayest well, and indeed thou deservest thy honorarium;’ and he called his treasurer, and said, ‘Bring hither three thousand dinars.’ So he brought a purse containing the gold pieces and Jubayr gave it to me, saying, ‘Favour us by accepting this.’ But I replied, ‘I will not accept it till thou tell me the manner of the transfer of love from her to thee, after so huge an aversion.’ Quoth he, ‘Hearkening and obedience! Know that we have a festival-called New Year’s day,4 when all the people fare forth and take boat and go a-pleasuring on the river. So I went out with my comrades, and saw a skiff, wherein were ten damsels like moons and amongst them, the Lady Budur lute in hand. She preluded in eleven modes, then, returning to the first, sang these two couplets,
‘Fire is cooler than fires in my breast,
Rock is softer than heart of my lord
Marvel I that he’s formèd to hold
In water soft frame heart rock-hard!’
Said I to her, ‘Repeat the couplets and the air!’ But she would not:’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The comparison is admirable as the two letters are written. It occurs in Al–Hariri (Ass. of Ramlah).
“So I embraced him close as Lám cleaves to Alif:”
And again;
“She laid aside reluctance and I embraced her close
As if I were Lam and my love Alif.”
The Lomad Olaph in Syriac is similarly colligated.
2 Here is a double entendre “and the infirm letters (viz. a, w and y) not subject to accidence, left him.” The three make up the root “Awi”=pitying, condoling.
3 Showing that consummation had taken place. It was a sign of good breeding to avoid all “indecent hurry” when going to bed. In some Moslem countries the bridegroom does not consummate the marriage for seven nights; out of respect for (1) father (2) mother (3) brother and so forth. If he hurry matters he will be hooted as an “impatient man” and the wise will quote, “Man is created of precipitation” (Koran chaps. xxi. 38), meaning hasty and inconsiderate. I remark with pleasure that the whole of this tale is told with commendable delicacy. O si sic omnia!
4 Pers. “Nauroz”(=nau roz, new day):here used in the Arab. plur.‘Nawáriz, as it lasted six days. There are only four: universal-festivals; the solstices and the equinoxes; and every successive religion takes them from the sun and perverts them to its own private purposes. Lane (ii. 496) derives the venerable Nauroz whose birth is hid in the outer glooms of antiquity from the “Jewish Passover”(!)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Jubayr continued, ‘So cried I to her, Repeat the couplets and the air!’ But she would not; whereupon I bade the boatmen pelt her with oranges, and they pelted her till we feared her boat would founder Then she went her way, and this is how the love was transferred from her heart to mine.’ So I wished them joy of their union and, taking the purse with its contents, I returned to Baghdad.” Now when the Caliph heard Ibn Mansur’s story his heart was lightened and the restlessness and oppression from which he suffered forsook him. And they also tell the tale of
The Caliph Al–Maamun was sitting one day in his palace, surrounded by his Lords of the realm and Officers of state, and there were present also before him all his poets and cup- companions amongst the rest one named Mohammed of Bassorah. Presently the Caliph turned and said to him, “O Mohammed, I wish thee forthwith to tell me something that I have never before heard.” He replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, dost thou wish me to tell thee a thing I have heard with my ears or a thing I have seen with my eyes?” Quoth Al–Maamun, “Tell me whichever is the rarer; so Mohammed al-Basri began: “Know, then, O Commander of the Faithful that there lived once upon a time wealthy man, who was a native of Al–Yaman;but he emigrated from his native land and came to this city of Baghdad, whose sojourn so pleased him that he transported hither his family and possessions. Now he had six slave-girls, like moons one and all; the first white, the second brown, the third fat, the fourth lean, the fifth yellow and the sixth lamp-black; and all six were comely of countenance and perfect in accomplishments and skilled in the arts of singing and playing upon musical-instruments. Now it so chanced that, one day, he sent for the girls and called for meat and wine; and they ate and drank and were mirthful and made merry Then he filled the cup and, taking it in his hand, said to the blonde girl, ‘O new moon face, let us hear somewhat of thy pleasant songs.’ So she took the lute and tuning it, made music thereon with such sweet melody that the place danced with glee; after which she played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
‘I have a friend, whose form is fixed within mine eyes,1
Whose name deep buried in my very vitals lies:
Whenas remembers him my mind all heart am I,
And when on him my gaze is turned I am all eyes.
My censor saith, ‘Forswear, forget, the love of him,’
‘Whatso is not to be, how shall’s be?’ My reply is.
Quoth I, ‘O Censor mine, go forth from me, avaunt!
And make not light of that on humans heavy lies.’
Hereat their master rejoiced and, drinking off his cup, gave the damsels to drink, after which he said to the berry-brown girl, ‘O brasier-light2 and joy of the sprite, let us hear thy lovely voice, whereby all that hearken are ravished with delight.’ So she took the lute and thereon made harmony till the place was moved to glee; then, captivating all hearts with her graceful swaying, she sang these couplets,
‘I swear by that fair face’s life, I’ll love but thee
Till death us part, nor other love but thine I’ll see:
O full moon, with thy loveliness mantilla’d o’er,
The loveliest of our earth beneath thy banner be:
Thou, who surpassest all the fair in pleasantness
May Allah, Lord of worlds, be everywhere with thee!’
The master rejoiced and drank off his cup and gave the girls to drink; after which he filled again; and, taking the goblet in his hand, signed to the fat girl and bade her sing and play a different motive. So she took the lute and striking a grief-dispelling measure, sang these couplets,
‘An thou but deign consent, O wish to heart affied!
I care not wrath and rage to all mankind betide.
And if thou show that fairest face which gives me life,
I reck not an dimimshed heads the Kings go hide.
I seek thy favours only from this ‘versal-world:
O thou in whom all beauty cloth firm-fixt abide!’
The man rejoiced and, emptying his cup, gave the girls to drink. Then he signed to the thin girl and said to her, ‘O Houri of Paradise, feed thou our ears with sweet words and sounds.’ So she took the lute; and, tuning it, preluded and sang these two couplets,
‘Say me, on Allah’s path3 hast death not dealt to me,
Turning from me while I to thee turn patiently:
Say me, is there no judge of Love to judge us twain,
And do me justice wronged, mine enemy, by thee?’
Their lord rejoiced and, emptying the cup, gave the girls to drink. Then filling another he signed to the yellow girl and said to her, O sun of the day, let us hear some nice verses.’ So she took the lute and, preluding after the goodliest fashion, sang these couplets,
‘I have a lover and when drawing him,
He draws on me a sword-blade glancing grim:
Allah avenge some little of his wrongs,
Who holds my heart yet wreaks o erbearing whim
Oft though I say, ‘Renounce him, heart!’ yet heart
Will to none other turn excepting him.
He is my wish and will of all men, but
Fate’s envious hand to me’s aye grudging him.’
The master rejoiced and drank and gave the girls to drink; then he filled the cup and taking it in hand, signed to the black girl, saying, ‘O pupil of the eye, let us have a taste of thy quality, though it be but two words.’ So she took the lute and tuning it and tightening the strings, preluded in various modes, then returned to the first and sang to a lively air these couplets,
‘Ho ye, mine eyes, let prodigal-tears go free;
This ecstasy would see my being unbe:4
All ecstasies I dreefor sake of friend
I fondle, maugre enviers’ jealousy:
Censors forbid me from his rosy cheek,
Yet e’er inclines my heart to rosery:
Cups of pure wine, time was, went circuiting
In joy, what time the lute sang melody,
While kept his troth the friend who madded me,
Yet made me rising star of bliss to see:
But — with Time, turned he not by sin of mine;
Than such a turn can aught more bitter be?
Upon his cheek there grows and glows a rose,
Nay two, whereof grant Allah one to me!
An were prostration5 by our law allowed
To aught but Allah, at his feet I had bowed.’
Thereupon rose the six girls and, kissing the ground before their lord, said to him, ‘Do thou justice between us, O our lord!’ So he looked at their beauty and loveliness and the contrast of their colours and praised Almighty Allah and glorified Him. Then said he, ‘There is none of you but hath learnt the Koran by heart, and mastered the musical-art and is versed in the chronicles’ of yore and the doings of peoples which have gone before; so it is my desire that each one of you rise and, pointing finger at her opposite, praise herself and dispraise her co-concubine; that is to: say, let the blonde point to the brunette, the plump to the slenderer and the yellow to the black girl; after which the rivals, each in her turn, shall do the like with the former; and be this illustrated with citations from Holy Writ and somewhat of anecdotes and,; verse, so as to show forth your fine breeding and elegance of your pleading.’ And they answered him, ‘We hear and we obey!;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Again the “babes” of the eyes.
2 i.e. whose glance is as the light of the glowing braise or (embers). The Arab. “Mikbás”=pan or pot full of small charcoal, is an article well known in Italy and Southern Europe. The word is apparently used here because it rhymes with “Anfás” (souls, spirits).
3 i.e. martyrdom; a Koranic term “fi sabíli ’llahi” = on the way of Allah
4 These rhymes in — y, — ee and — ie are purposely affected, to imitate the cadence of the Arabic.
5 Arab. “Sujúd,” the ceremonial-prostration, touching the ground with the forehead So in the Old Testament “he bowed (or fell down) and worshipped” (Gen. xxiv., 26 Mat. ii., 11), of which our translation gives a wrong idea.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the handmaids answered the man of Al–Yaman, “‘We hear and we obey!’ Accordingly the blonde rose first and, pointing at the black girl, said to her: ‘Out on thee, blackamoor! It is told by tradition that whiteness saith, ‘I am the shining light, I am the rising moon of the fourteenth night. My hue is patent and my brow is resplendent and of my beauty quoth the poet,’
‘White girl with softly rounded polished cheeks
As if a pearl concealed by Beauty’s boon:
Her stature Alif-like;1 her smile like Mím 2
And o’er her eyes two brows that bend like Nún.3
’Tis as her glance were arrow, and her brows
Bows ever bent to shoot Death-dart eftsoon:
If cheek and shape thou view, there shalt thou find
Rose, myrtle, basil and Narcissus wone.
Men wont in gardens plant and set the branch,
How many garths thy stature-branch cloth own!’
‘So my colour is like the hale and healthy day and the newly culled orange spray and the star of sparkling ray;4 and indeed quoth Almighty Allah, in His precious Book, to his prophet Moses (on whom be peace!), Put thy hand into thy bosom; it shall come forth white, without hurt.’5 And again He saith, But they whose faces shall become white, shall be in the mercy of Allah; therein shall they remain forever.’6 My colour is a sign, a miracle, and my loveliness supreme and my beauty a term extreme. It is on the like of me that raiment showeth fair and fine and to the like of me that hearts incline. Moreover, in whiteness are many excellences; for instance, the snow falleth white from heaven, and it is traditional-that the beautifullest of a colours white. The Moslems also glory in white turbands, but I should be tedious, were I to tell all that may be told in praise of white; little and enough is better than too much of unfilling stuff. So now I will begin with thy dispraise, O black, O colour of ink and blacksmith’s dust, thou whose face is like the raven which bringeth about the parting of lovers. Verily, the poet saith in praise of white and blame of black,
‘Seest not that pearls are prized for milky hue,
But with a dirham buy we coals in load?
And while white faces enter Paradise,
Black faces crowd Gehenna’s black abode.’
And indeed it is told in certain histories, related on the authority of devout men, that Noah (on whom be peace!) was sleeping one day, with his sons Cham and Shem seated at his head, when a wind sprang up and, lifting his clothes, uncovered his nakedness; whereat Cham looked and laughed and did not cover him: but Shem arose and covered him. Presently, their sire awoke and learning, what had been done by his sons, blessed Shem and cursed Cham. So Shem’s face was whitened and from him sprang the prophets and the orthodox Caliphs and Kings; whilst Cham’s face was blackened and he fled forth to the land of Abyssinia, and of his lineage came the blacks.7 All people are of one mind in affirming the lack of understanding of the blacks, even as saith the adage, ‘How shall one find a black with a mind?’ Quoth her master, ‘Sit thee down, thou hast given us sufficient and even excess.’ Thereupon he signed to the negress, who rose and, pointing her finger at the blonde, said: Dost thou not know that in the Koran sent down to His prophet and apostle, is transmitted the saying of God the Most High, ‘By the night when it covereth all things with darkness; by the day when it shineth forth!’8 If the night were not the more illustrious, verily Allah had not sworn by it nor had given it precedence of the day. And indeed all men of wit and wisdom accept this. Knowest thou not that black is the ornament of youth and that, when hoariness descendeth upon the head, delights pass away and the hour of death draweth in sight? Were not black the most illustrious of things, Allah had not set it in the core of the heart9 and the pupil of the eye; and how excellent is the saying of the poet,
‘I love not black girls but because they show
Youth’s colour, tinct of eye and heartcore’s hue;
Nor are in error who unlove the white,
And hoary hairs and winding-sheet eschew.’
And that said of another,
‘Black10 girls, not white, are they
All worthy love I see:
Black girls wear dark-brown lips;11
Whites, blotch of leprosy.’
And of a third,
‘Black girls in acts are white, and ’tis as though
Like eyes, with purest shine and sheen they show;
If I go daft for her, be not amazed;
Black bile12 drives melancholic-mad we know
’Tis as my colour were the noon of night;
For all no moon it be, its splendours glow.
Moreover, is the foregathering of lovers good but in the night? Let this quality and profit suffice thee. What protecteth lovers from spies and censors like the blackness of night’s darkness; and what causeth them to fear discovery like the whiteness of the dawn’s brightness? So, how many claims to honour are there not in blackness and how excellent is the saying of the poet,
‘I visit them, and night-black lendeth aid to me
Seconding love, but dawn-white is mine enemy.’
And that of another,
‘How many a night I’ve passed with the beloved of me,
While gloom with dusky tresses veilèd our desires:
But when the morn-light showed it caused me sad affright;
And I to Morning said, ‘Who worship light are liars!’13
And saith a third,
‘He came to see me, hiding neath the skirt of night,
Hasting his steps as wended he in cautious plight.
I rose and spread my cheek upon his path like rug,
Abject, and trailed my skirt to hide it from his sight;
But rose the crescent moon and strave its best to show
The world our loves like nail-slice raying radiant light:14
Then what befel befel: I need not aught describe;
But think thy best, and ask me naught of wrong or right.
Meet not thy lover save at night for fear of slander
The Sun’s a tittle-tattler and the Moon’s a pander.’
And a fifth,
‘I love not white girls blown with fat who puff and pant;
The maid for me is young brunette embonpoint-scant.
I’d rather ride a colt that’s darn upon the day
Of race, and set my friends upon the elephant.’
And a sixth,
My lover came to me one night,
And clips we both with fond embrace;
And lay together till we saw
The morning come with swiftest pace.
Now I pray Allah and my Lord
To reunite us of His grace
And make night last me long as he
Lies in the arms that tightly lace.’
Were I to set forth all the praises of blackness, my tale would be tedious; but little and enough is better than too much of unfilling stuff. As for thee, O blonde, thy colour is that of leprosy and thine embrace is suffocation;15 and it is of report that hoar-frost and icy cold16 are in Gehenna for the torment of the wicked. Again, of things black and excellent is ink, wherewith is written Allah’s word; and were it not for black ambergris and black musk, there would be no perfumes to carry to Kings. How many glories I may not mention dwell in blackness, and how well saith the poet,
‘Seest not that musk, the nut brown musk, e’er claims the highest price
Whilst for a load of whitest lime none more than dirham bids?
And while white speck upon the eye deforms the loveliest youth,
Black eyes discharge the sharpest shafts in lashes from their lids.’
Quoth her master, ‘Sit thee down: this much sufficeth.’ So she sat down and he signed to the fat girl, who rose”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A girl is called “Alfiyyah “ = A-shaped.
2 i.e. the medial-form of m.
3 i.e. the inverted n.
4 It may also mean a “Sevigné of pearls.”
5 Koran xxvii. 12. This was one of the nine “signs” to wicked “Pharaoh.” The “hand of Moses” is a symbol of power and ability (Koran vii. 105). The whiteness was supernatural-beauty, not leprosy of the Jews (Exod. iv. 6); but brilliancy, after being born red or black: according to some commentators, Moses was a negro.
6 Koran iii. 103; the other faces become black. This explains I have noticed the use of the phrases in blessing and cursing.
7 Here we have the naked legend of the negro’s origin, one of those nursery tales in which the ignorant of Christendom still believe But the deduction from the fable and the testimony to the negro’s lack of intelligence, though unpleasant to our ignorant negrophils, are factual-and satisfactory.
8 Koran, xcii. 1, 2: an oath of Allah to reward and punish with Heaven and Hell.
9 Alluding to the “black drop” in the heart: it was taken from Mohammed’s by the Archangel Gabriel. The fable seems to have arisen from the verse ‘ Have we not opened thy breast?” (Koran, chaps. xciv. 1). The popular tale is that Halímah, the Badawi nurse of Mohammed, of the Banu Sa’ad tribe, once saw her son, also a child, running towards her and asked him what was the matter. He answered, ‘My little brother was seized by two men in white who stretched him on the ground and opened his bellyl” For a full account and deductions see the Rev. Mr. Badger’s article, “Muhammed” (p. 959) in vol. in. “Dictionary of Christian Biography.”
10 Arab. “Sumr,” lit. brown (as it is afterwards used), but politely applied to a negro: “Yá Abu Sumrah!” O father of brownness.
11 Arab. ‘Lumá”=dark hue of the inner lips admired by the Arabs and to us suggesting most umpleasant ideas. Mr. Chenery renders it “dark red,’ and “ruddy” altogether missing the idea.
12 Arab. “Saudá,” feminine of aswad (black), and meaning black bile (melancholia) as opposed to leucocholia,
13 i.e. the Magians, Sabians, Zoroastrians.
14 The “Unguinum fulgor” of the Latins who did not forget to celebrate the shining of the nails although they did not Henna them like Easterns. Some, however, have suggested that alludes to colouring matter.
15 Women with white skins are supposed to be heating and unwholesome: hence the Hindu Rajahs slept with dark girls in the hot season.
16 Moslems sensibly have a cold as well as a hot Hell, the former called Zamharir (lit. “intense cold”)or Al-Barahút, after a well in Hazramaut; as Gehenna (Arab. “Jahannam”) from the furnace-like ravine East of Jerusalem (Night cccxxv.). The icy Hell is necessary in terrorem for peoples who inhabit cold regions and who in a hot Hell only look forward to an eternity of “coals and candles” gratis. The sensible missionaries preached it in Iceland till foolishly forbidden by Papal–Bull.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the man of Al–Yaman, the master of the handmaids, signed to the fat girl who rose and, pointing her finger at the slim girl, bared her calves and wrists and uncovered her stomach, showing its dimples and the plump rondure of her navel. Then she donned a shift of fine stuff, that exposed her whole body, and said: ‘Praised be Allah who created me, for that He beautified my face and made me fat and fair of the fattest and fairest; and likened me to branches laden with fruit, and bestowed upon me abounding beauty and brightness: and praised be He no less, for that He hath given me the precedence and honoured me, when He mentioneth me in His holy Book! Quoth the Most High, ‘And he brought a fatted calf.’1 And He hath made me like unto a vergier full of peaches and pomegranates. In very sooth even as the townsfolk long for fat birds and eat of them and love not lean birds, so do the sons of Adam desire fat meat and eat of it. How many vauntful attributes are there not in fatness, and how well saith the poet,
‘Farewell thy love, for see, the Cafilah’s2 on the move:
O man, canst bear to say adieu and leave thy love?
’Tis as her going were to seek her neighbour’s tent,
The gait of fat fair maid, whom hearts shall all approve.’
Sawest thou ever one stand before a flesher’s stall but sought of him fat flesh? The wise say, ‘Joyance is in three things, eating meat and riding meat and putting meat into meat.’3 As for thee, O thin one, thy calves are like the shanks of sparrows or the pokers of furnaces; and thou art a cruciform plank of a piece of flesh poor and rank; there is naught in thee to gladden the heart; even as saith the poet,
‘With Allah take I refuge from whatever driveth me
To bed with one like footrasp4 or the roughest ropery:
In every limb she hath a horn that butteth me whene’er
I fain would rest, so morn and eve I wend me wearily.’
Quoth her master, ‘Sit thee down: this much sufficeth.’ So she sat down and he signed to the slender girl, who rose, as she were a willow-wand, or a rattan-frond or a stalk of sweet basil, and said: ‘Praised be Allah who created me and beautified me and made my embraces the end of all desire and likened me to the branch, whereto all hearts incline. If I rise, I rise lightly; if I sit, I sit prettily; I am nimble-witted at a jest and merrier-souled than mirth itself. Never heard I one describe his mistress, saying, ‘My beloved is the bigness of an elephant or like a mountain long and broad;’ but rather, ‘My lady hath a slender waist and a slim shape.’5 Furthermore a little food filleth me and a little water quencheth my thirst; my sport is agile and my habit active; for I am sprightlier than the sparrow and lighter-skipping than the starling. My favours are the longing of the lover and the delight of the desirer; for I am goodly of shape, sweet of smile and graceful as the bending willow-wand or the rattan-cane6 or the stalk of the basil-plant; nor is there any can compare with me in loveliness, even as saith one of me,
‘Thy shape with willow branch I dare compare,
And hold thy figure as my fortunes fair:
I wake each morn distraught, and follow thee,
And from the rival’s eye in fear I fare.’
It is for the like of me that amourists run mad and that those who desire me wax distracted. If my lover would draw me to him, I am drawn to him; and if he would have me incline to him, I incline to him and not against him. But now, as for thee, O fat of body, thine eating is the feeding of an elephant, and neither much nor little filleth thee. When thou liest with a man who is lean, he hath no ease of thee; nor can he anyways take his pleasure of thee; for the bigness of thy belly holdeth him off from going in unto thee and the fatness of thy thighs hindereth him from coming at thy slit. What goodness is there in thy grossness, and what courtesy or pleasantness in thy coarseness? Fat flesh is fit for naught but the flasher, nor is there one point therein that pleadeth for praise. If one joke with thee, thou art angry; if one sport with thee, thou art sulky; if thou sleep, thou snorest if thou walk, thou lollest out thy tongue! if thou eat, thou art never filled. Thou art heavier than mountains and fouler than corruption and crime. Thou hast in thee nor agility nor benedicite nor thinkest thou of aught save meat and sleep. When thou pissest thou swishes”; if thou turd thou gruntest like a bursten wine skin or an elephant transmogrified. If thou go to the water closet, thou needest one to wash thy gap and pluck out the hairs which overgrow it; and this is the extreme of sluggish ness and the sign, outward and visible, of stupidity7 In short, there is no good thing about thee, and indeed the poet Title of thee,
‘Heavy and swollen like an urine-bladder blown,
With hips and thighs like mountain propping piles of stone;
Whene’er she walks in Western hemisphere, her tread
Makes the far Eastern world with weight to moan and groan.’
Quoth her master, ‘Sit thee down, this sufficeth;’ so she sat down and he signed to the yellow girl, who rose to her feet and praised Allah Almighty and magnified His name, calling down peace and blessing on Mohammed the best of His creatures; after which she pointed her finger at the brunette and said to her,” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Koran ii. 26; speaking of Abraham when he entertained the angels unawares.
2 Arab. “Rakb,” usually applied to a fast-going caravan of dromedary riders (Pilgrimage ii. 329). The “Cafilah” is Arab.: “Caravan” is a corruption of the Pers. “Karwán.”
3 A popular saying. It is interesting to contrast this dispute between fat and thin with the Shakespearean humour of Falstaff and Prince Henry.
4 Arab. “Dalak” vulg. Hajar al-Hammam (Hammam-stone). The comparison is very apt: the rasps are of baked clay artificially roughened (see illustrations in Lane M. E. chaps. xvi.). The rope is called “Masad,” a bristling line of palm-fibre like the coir now familiarly known in England.
5 Although the Arab’s ideal-of beauty, as has been seen and said, corresponds with ours the Egyptians (Modern) the Maroccans and other negrofied races like “walking tun-butts” as Clapperton called his amorous widow.
6 Arab. “Khayzar” or “Khayzarán” the rattan-palm. Those who have seen this most graceful “palmijuncus” in its native forest will recognize the neatness of the simile.
7 This is the popular idea of a bushy “veil of nature” in women: it is always removed by depilatories and vellication. When Bilkis Queen of Sheba discovered her legs by lifting her robe (Koran xxvii.), Solomon was minded to marry her, but would not do so till the devils had by a depilatory removed the hair. The popular preparation (called Núrah) consists of quicklime 7 parts, and Zirník or orpiment, 3 parts: it is applied in the Hammam to a perspiring skin, and it must be washed off immediately the hair is loosened or it burns and discolours. The rest of the body-pile (Sha’arat opp. to Sha’ar=hair) is eradicated by applying a mixture of boiled honey with turpentine or other gum, and rolling it with the hand till the hair comes off. Men I have said remove the pubes by shaving, and pluck the hair of the arm-pits, one of the vestiges of pre-Adamite man. A good depilatory is still a desideratum, the best perfumers of London and Paris have none which they can recommend. The reason is plain: the hair bulb can be eradicated only by destroying the skin.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the yellow girl stood up and praised Almighty Allah and magnified His name; after which she pointed her finger at the brown girl and said to her: ‘I am the one praised in the Koran, and the Compassionate hath described my complexion and its excellence over all other hues in His manifest Book, where Allah saith, ‘A yellow, pure yellow, whose colour gladdeneth the beholders.’1 Wherefore my colour is a sign and portent and my grace is supreme and my beauty a term extreme; for that my tint is the tint of a ducat and the colour of the planets and moons and the hue of ripe apples. My fashion is the fashion of the fair, and the dye of saffron outvieth all other dyes; so my semblance is wondrous and my colour marvellous. I am soft of body and of high price, comprising all qualities of beauty. My colour is essentially precious as virgin gold, and how many boasts and glories cloth it not unfold! Of the like of me quoth the poet,
‘Her golden yellow is the sheeny sun’s;
And like gold sequins she delights the sight:
Saffron small portion of her glance can show;
Nay,2 she outvies the moon when brightest bright.’
And I shall at once begin in thy dispraise, O berry-brown girl! Thy tincture is that of the buffalo, and all souls shudder at thy sight. If thy colour be in any created thing, it is blamed; if it be in food, it is poisoned; for thy hue is the hue of the dung- fly; it is a mark of ugliness even in dogs; and among the colours it is one which strikes with amazement and is of the signs of mourning. Never heard I of brown gold or brown pearls or brown gems. If thou enter the privy, thy colour changeth, and when thou comest out, thou addest ugliness to ugliness. Thou art a non- descript; neither black, that thou mayst be recognised, nor white, that thou mayst be described; and in thee there is no good quality, even as saith the poet,
‘The hue of dusty motes is hers; that dull brown hue of hers
Is mouldy like the dust and mud by Cossid’s foot upthrown:3
I never look upon her brow, e’en for eye-twinkling’s space,
But in brown study fall I and my thoughts take browner tone.’
Quoth her master, ‘Sit thee down; this much sufficeth;’ so she sat down and he signed to the brunette. Now she was a model of beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace; soft of skin, slim of shape, of stature rare, and coal-black hair; with cheeks rosy-pink, eyes black rimmed by nature’s hand, face fair, and eloquent tongue; moreover slender-waisted and heavy-hipped. So she rose and said: ‘Praise be to Allah who hath created me neither leper-white nor bile-yellow nor charcoal-black, but hath made my colour to be beloved of men of wit and wisdom, for all the poets extol berry-brown maids in every tongue and exalt their colour over all other colours. To ‘brown of hue (they say) praise is due;’ and Allah bless him who singeth,
‘And in brunettes is mystery, could’st” thou but read it right,
Thy sight would never dwell on others, be they red or white:
Free-flowing conversation, amorous coquettishness
Would teach Hárut himself a mightier spell of magic might.’
And saith another,
‘Give me brunettes, so limber, lissom, lithe of sway,
Brunettes tall, slender straight like Samhar’s nut-brown lance;4
Languid of eyelids and with silky down on either cheek,
Who fixed in lover’s heart work to his life mischance.’
And yet another,
‘Now, by my life, brown hue hath point of comeliness
Leaves whiteness nowhere and high o’er the Moon takes place;
But an of whiteness aught it borrowed self to deck,
‘Twould change its graces and would pale for its disgrace:
Not with his must5 I’m drunken, but his locks of musk
Are wine inebriating all of human race.
His charms are jealous each of each, and all desire
To be the down that creepeth up his lovely face.’
And again another,
‘Why not incline me to that show of silky down,
On cheeks of dark brunette, like bamboo spiring brown?
Whenas high rank in beauty poets sing, they say
Brown ant-like specklet worn by nenuphar in crown.
And see I sundry lovers tear out others’ eyne
For the brown mole beneath that jetty pupil shown,
Then why do censors blame me for one all a mole?
Allah I pray demolish each molesting clown!’6
My form is all grace and my shape is built on heavy base; Kings desire my colour which all adore, rich and poor. I am pleasant, active, handsome, elegant, soft of skin and prized for price: eke I am perfect in seemlibead and breeding and eloquence; my aspect is comely and my tongue witty; my temper is bright and my play a pretty sight. As for thee, thou art like unto a mallow growing about the Lúk Gate;7 in hue sallow and streaked-yellow and made all of sulphur. Aroynt thee, O copper-worth of jaundiced sorrel, O rust of brass-pot, O face of owl in gloom, and fruit of the Hell-tree Zakkúm;8 whose bedfellow, for heart-break, is buried in the tomb. And there is no good thing in thee, even as saith the poet of the like of thee,
‘Yellowness, tincturing her tho’ nowise sick or sorry,
Straitens my hapless heart and makes my head sore ache;
An thou repent not, Soul! I’ll punish thee with kissing9
Her lower face that shall mine every grinder break!’
And when she ended her lines, quoth her master, ‘Sit thee down, this much sufficeth!’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Koran, ii. 64: referring to the heifer which the Jews were ordered to sacrifice,
2 Arab. “kallá,” a Koranic term possibly from Kull (all) and lá (not) =prorsus non-altogether not!
3 “Habáb” or “Habá,” the fine particles of dust, which we call motes. The Cossid (Arab. “Kásid”) is the Anglo–Indian term for a running courier (mostly under Government), the Persian “Shátir” and the Guebre Rávand.
4 Arab. “Sambari” a very long thin lance so called after Samhar, the maker, or the place of making. See vol. ii. p. 1. It is supposed to cast, when planted in the ground, a longer shadow in proportion to its height, than any other thing of the kind.
5 Arab. “Suláfah;” properly prisane which flows from the grapes before pressure. The plur. “Sawálif” also means tresses of hair and past events: thus there is a “triple entendre.” And again “he” is used for “she.”
6 There is a pun in the last line, “Khálun (a mole) khallauni” (rid me), etc.
7 Of old Fustát, afterwards part of Southern Cairo, a proverbially miserable quarter hence the saying, “They quoted Misr to Káhirah (Cairo), whereon Bab al-Luk rose with its grass,” in derision of nobodies who push themselves forward. Burckhardt, Prov. 276.
8 Its fruits are the heads of devils; a true Dantesque fancy. Koran, chaps. xvii. 62, “the tree cursed in the Koran” and in chaps. xxxvii., 60, “is this better entertainment, or the tree of Al–Zakkúm?” Commentators say that it is a thorn bearing a bitter almond which grows in the Tehamah and was therefore promoted to Hell.
9 Arab. “Lasm” (lathm) as opposed to Bausah or boseh (a buss) and Kublah (a kiss,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when the yellow girl ended her recitation, quoth her master, ‘Sit thee down; this much sufficeth!’ Then he made peace between them and clad them all in sumptuous robes of honour and hanselled them with precious jewels of land and sea. And never have I seen, O Commander of the Faithful, any when or any where, aught fairer than these six damsels fair.” Now when Al–Maamun heard this story from Mohammed of Bassorah, he turned to him and said, “O Mohammed, knowest thou the abiding-place of these damsels and their master, and canst thou contrive to buy them of him for us?” He answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, indeed I have heard that their lord is wrapped up in them and cannot bear to be parted from them.” Rejoined the Caliph, “Take thee ten thousand gold pieces for each girl, that is sixty thousand for the whole purchase; and carry the coin to his house and buy them of him.” So Mohammed of Bassorah took the money and, betaking himself to the Man of Al–Yaman, acquainted him with the wish of the Prince of True Believers. He consented to part with them at that price to pleasure the Caliph; and despatched them to Al–Maamun, who assigned them an elegant abode and therein used to sit with them as cup-companions; marvelling at their beauty and loveliness, at their varied colours and at the excellence of their conversation. Thus matters stood for many a day; but, after awhile, when their former owner could no longer bear to be parted from them, he sent a letter to the Commander of the Faithful complaining to him of his own ardent love-longing for them and containing, amongst other contents, these couplets,
“Captured me six, all bright with youthful blee;
Then on all six be best salams from me!
They are my hearing, seeing, very life;
My meat, my drink, my joy, my jollity:
I’ll ne’er forget the favours erst so charmed
Whose loss hath turned my sleep to insomny:
Alack, O longsome pining and O tears!
Would I had farewelled all humanity:
Those eyes, with bowed and well arched eyebrows1 dight,
Like bows have struck me with their archery.”
Now when the letter came to the hands of Al–Maamun, he robed the six damsels in rich raiment; and, giving them threescore thousand dinars, sent them back to their lord who joyed in them with exceeding joy2 (more especially for the monies they brought him), and abode with them in all the comfort and pleasance of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies. And men also recount the tale of
1 Arab. “Jufún” (plur. of Jafn) which may mean eyebrows or eyelashes and only the context can determine which.
2 Very characteristic of Egyptian manners is the man who loves six girls equally well, who lends them, as it were, to the Caliph; and who takes back the goods as if in no wise damaged by the loan.
The Caliph, Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, being one night exceedingly restless and thoughtful with sad thought, rose from his couch and walked about the by-ways of his palace, till he came to a chamber, over whose doorway hung a curtain. He raised that curtain and saw, at the upper end of the room, a bedstead whereon lay something black, as it were a man asleep, with a wax taper on his right hand and another on his left; and as the Caliph stood wondering at the sight, behold, he remarked a flagon full of old wine whose mouth was covered by the cup. The Caliph wondered even more at this, saying, “How came this black by such wine-service?” Then, drawing near the bedstead, he found that it was a girl lying asleep there, curtained by her hair; so he uncovered her face and saw that it was like the moon, on the night of his fulness.1 So the Caliph filled himself a cup of wine and drank it to the roses of her cheeks; and, feeling inclined to enjoy her, kissed a mole on her face, whereupon she started up from sleep, and cried out, “O Trusted of Allah,2 what may this be?” Replied he, “A guest who knocketh at thy door, hoping that thou wilt give him hospitality till the dawn;” and she answered; “Even so! I will serve him with my hearing and my sight.” So she brought forward the wine and they drank together, after which she took the lute and tuning the strings, preluded in one-and-twenty modes, then returning to the first, played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
“The tongue of love from heart bespeaks my sprite,
Telling I love thee with love infinite:
I have an eye bears witness to my pain,
And fluttering heart sore hurt by parting-plight.
I cannot hide the love that harms my life;
Tears ever roll and growth of pine I sight:
I knew not what love was ere loving thee;
But Allah’s destiny to all is dight.”
And when her verses were ended she said, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have been wronged!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The moon is masculine possibly by connection with the Assyrian Lune-god “Sin”; but I can find no cause for the Sun (Shams) being feminine.
2 Arab. “Al–Amin,” a title of the Prophet. It is usually held that this proud name “The honest man,” was applied by his fellow-citizens to Mohammed in early life; and that in his twenty-fifth year, when the Eighth Ka’abah was being built, it induced the tribes to make him their umpire concerning the distinction of placing in position the “Black Stone” which Gabriel had brought from Heaven to be set up as the starting-post for the seven circuitings. He distributed the honour amongst the clans and thus gave universal satisfaction. His Christian biographers mostly omit to record an anecdote which speaks so highly in Mohammed’s favour. (Pilgrimage iii. 192.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel cried, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have been wronged!” Quoth he, “How so, and who hath wronged thee?” Quoth she “Thy son bought me awhile ago, for ten thousand dirhams, meaning to give me to thee; but thy wife, the daughter of thine uncle, sent him the said price and bade him shut me up from thee in this chamber.” Whereupon said the Caliph, “Ask a boon of me,” and she, “I ask thee to lie with me to-morrow night.” Replied the Caliph, “Inshallah!” and leaving her, went away. Now as soon as it was morning, he repaired to his sitting-room and called for Abu Nowas, but found him not and sent his chamberlain to ask after him. The chamberlain found him in a tavern, pawned and pledged for a score of a thousand dirhams, which he had spent on a certain beardless youth, and questioned him of his case. So he told him what had betided him with the comely boy and how he had spent upon him a thousand silver pieces; whereupon quoth the chamberlain, “Show him to me; and if he be worth this, thou art excused.” He answered, “Patience, and thou shalt see him presently.’ As they were talking together, up came the lad, clad in a white tunic, under which was another of red and under this yet another black. Now when Abu Nowas saw him, he sighed a loud sigh and improvised these couplets,
“He showed himself in shirt of white,
With eyes and eyelids languor-dight.
Quoth I, ‘Doss pass and greet me not?
Though were thy greeting a delight?
Blest He who clothed in rose thy cheeks,
Creates what wills He by His might!’
Quoth he, ‘Leave prate, forsure my Lord
Of works is wondrous infinite:
My garment’s like my face and luck;
All three are white on white on white.’”
When the beardless one heard these words, he doffed the white tunic and appeared in the red; and when Abu Nowas saw him he redoubled in expressions of admiration and repeated these couplets,
“He showed in garb anemone-red,
A foeman ‘friend’ entitulèd:
Quoth I in marvel, ‘Thou’rt full moon
Whose weed shames rose however red:
Hath thy cheek stained it red, or hast
Dyed it in blood by lovers bled?’
Quoth he, ‘Sol gave me this for shirt
When hasting down the West to bed
So garb and wine and hue of cheek
All three are red on red on red.’”
And when the verses came to an end, the beardless one doffed the red tunic and stood in the black; and, when Abu Nowas saw him, he redoubled in attention to him and versified in these couplets,
“He came in sable-huèd sacque
And shone in dark men’s heart to rack:
Quoth I, ‘Doss pass and greet me not?
Joying the hateful envious pack?
Thy garment’s like thy locks and like
My lot, three blacks on black on black.’”
Seeing this state of things and understanding the case of Abu Nowas and his love-longing, the Chamberlain returned to the Caliph and acquainted him therewith; so he bade him pouch a thousand dirhams and go and take him out of pawn. Thereupon the Chamberlain returned to Abu Nowas and, paying his score, carried him to the Caliph, who said, “Make me some verses containing the words, O Trusted of Allah, what may this be?” Answered he, “I hear and I obey, O Commander of the Faithful.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu Nowas answered, “I hear and I obey, O Commander of the Faithful!” and forthwith he improvised these couplets,
“Long was my night for sleepless misery;
Weary of body and of thought ne’er free:
I rose and in my palace walked awhile,
Then wandered thro’ the halls of Haremry:
Till chanced I on a blackness, which I found
A white girl hid in hair for napery:
Here to her for a moon of brightest sheen!
Like willow-wand and veiled in pudency:
I quaffed a cup to her; then drew I near,
And kissed the beauty-spot on cheek had she:
She woke astart, and in her sleep’s amaze,
Swayed as the swaying branch in rain we see;
Then rose and said to me, ‘O Trusted One
Of Allah, O Amin, what may this be?
Quoth I, ‘A guest that cometh to thy tents
And craves till morn thy hospitality.’
She answered, ‘Gladly I, my lord, will grace
And honour such a guest with ear and eye.’”
Cried the Caliph, “Allah strike thee dead! it is as if thou hadst been present with us.’’1 Then he took him by the hand and carried him to the damsel and, when Abu Nowas saw her clad in a dress and veil of blue, he expressed abundant admiration and improvised these couplets,
“Say to the pretty one in veil of blue,
‘By Allah, O my life, have ruth on dole!
For, when the fair entreats her lover foul,
Sighs rend his bosom and bespeak his soul
By charms of thee and whitest cheek I swear thee,
Pity a heart for love lost all control
Bend to him, be his stay ’gainst stress of love,
Nor aught accept what saith the ribald fool.’”
Now when he ended his verse, the damsel set wine before the Caliph; and, taking the lute, played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
“Wilt thou be just to others in thy love, and do
Unright, and put me off, and take new friend in lieu?
Had lovers Kazi unto whom I might complain
Of thee, he’d peradventure grant the due I sue:
If thou forbid me pass your door, yet I afar
Will stand, and viewing you waft my salams to you!”
The Caliph bade her ply Abu Nowas with wine, till he lost his right senses, thereupon he gave him a full cup, and he drank a draught of it and held the cup in his hand till he slept. Then the Commander of the Faithful bade the girl take the cup from his grasp and hide it; so she took it and set it between her thighs, moreover he drew his scymitar and, standing at the head of Abu Nowas, pricked him with the point; whereupon he awoke and saw the drawn sword and the Caliph standing over him. At this sight the fumes of the wine fled from his head and the Caliph said to him, “Make me some verses and tell me therein what is become of thy cup; or I will cut off thy head.” So he improvised these couplets,
“My tale, indeed, is tale unlief;
’Twas yonder fawn who play’d the thief!
She stole my cup of wine, before
The sips and sups had dealt relief,
And hid it in a certain place,
My heart’s desire and longing grief.
I name it not, for dread of him
Who hath of it command-in-chief.”
Quoth the Caliph, “Allah strike thee dead!2 How knewest thou that? But we accept what thou sayst.” Then he ordered him a dress of honour and a thousand dinars, and he went away rejoicing. And among tales they tell is one of
1 The idea is that Abu Nowas was a thought-reader such being the prerogative of inspired poets in the East. His drunkenness and debauchery only added to his power. I have already noticed that “Allah strike thee dead” (Kátala-k Allah) is like our phrase “Confound the fellow, how clever he is.”
2 Again said facetiously, “Devil take you!”
Sometime erst there was a man, who had accumulated debts, and his case was straitened upon him, so that he left his people and family and went forth in distraction; and he ceased not wandering on at random till he came after a time to a city tall of walls and firm of foundations. He entered it in a state of despondency and despair, harried by hunger and worn with the weariness of his way. As he passed through one of the main streets, he saw a company of the great going along; so he followed them till they reached a house like to a royal-palace. He entered with them, and they stayed not faring forwards till they came in presence of a person seated at the upper end of a saloon, a man of the most dignified and majestic aspect, surrounded by pages and eunuchs, as he were of the sons of the Wazirs.When he saw the visitors, he rose to greet them and received them with honour; but the poor man aforesaid was confounded at his own boldness, when beholding —— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the poor man aforesaid was confounded at his own boldness, when beholding the goodliness of the place and the crowd of servants and attendants; so drawing back, in perplexity and fear for his life sat down apart in a place afar off. where none should see him. Now it chanced that whilst he was sitting, behold, in came a man with four sporting-dogs, whereon were various kinds of raw silk and brocade1 and wearing round their necks collars of gold with chains of silver, and tied up each dog in a place set privy for him; after which he went out and presently returned with four dishes of gold, full of rich meats, which he set severally before the dogs, one for each. Then he went away and left them, whilst the poor man began to eye the food, for stress of hunger, and longed to go up to one of the dogs and eat with him, but fear of them withheld him. Presently, one of the dogs looked at him and Allah Almighty inspired the dog with a knowledge of his case; so he drew back from the platter and signed to the man, who came and ate till he was filled. Then he would have withdrawn, but the dog again signed to him to take for himself the dish and what food was left in it, and pushed it towards him with his fore-paw. So the man took the dish and leaving the house, went his way, and none followed him. Then he journeyed to another city where he sold the dish and buying with the price a stock-in-trade, returned to his own town. There he sold his goods and paid his debts; and he throve and became affluent and rose to perfect prosperity. He abode in his own land; but after some years had passed he said to himself, “Needs must I repair to the city of the owner of the dish, and, carry him a fit and handsome present and pay him the money-value of that which his dog bestowed upon me.” So he took the price of the dish and a suitable gift; and, setting out, journeyed day and night, till he came to that city; he entered it and sought the place where the man lived; but he found there naught save ruins mouldering in row and croak of crow, and house and home desolate and all conditions in changed state. At this, his heart and soul were troubled, and he repeated the saying of him who saith,
“Void are the private rooms of treasury:
As void were hearts of fear and piety:
Changed is the Wady nor are its gazelles
Those fawns, nor sand-hills those I wont to see.”
And that of another,
“In sleep came Su’adá‘s2 shade and wakened me
Near dawn, when comrades all a-sleeping lay:
But waking found I that the shade was fled,
And saw air empty and shrine far away.”
Now when the man saw these mouldering ruins and witnessed what the hand of time had manifestly done with the place, leaving but traces of the substantial-things that erewhiles had been, a little reflection made it needless for him to enquire of the case; so he turned away. Presently, seeing a wretched man, in a plight which made him shudder and feel goose-skin, and which would have moved the very rock to rush, he said to him, “Ho thou! What have time and fortune done with the lord of this place? Where are his lovely faces, his shining full moons and splendid stars; and what is the cause of the ruin that is come upon his abode, so that nothing save the walls thereof remain?” Quoth the other, “He is the miserable thou seest mourning that which hath left him naked. But knowest thou not the words of the Apostle (whom Allah bless and keep!), wherein is a lesson to him who will learn by it and a warning to whoso will be warned thereby and guided in the right way, ‘Verily it is the way of Allah Almighty to raise up nothing of this world, except He cast it down again?’3 If thou question of the cause of this accident, indeed it is no wonder, considering the chances and changes of Fortune. I was the lord of this place and I builded it and founded it and owned it; and I was the proud possessor of its full moons lucent and its circumstance resplendent and its damsels radiant and its garniture magnificent, but Time turned and did away from me wealth and servants and took from me what it had lent (not given); and brought upon me calamities which it held in store hidden. But there must needs be some reason for this thy question: so tell it me and leave wondering.” Thereupon, the man who had waxed wealthy being sore concerned, told him the whole story, and added, “I have brought thee a present, such as souls desire, and the price of thy dish of gold which I took; for it was the cause of my affluence after poverty, and of the replenishment of my dwelling-place, after desolation, and of the dispersion of my trouble and straitness.” But the man shook his head, and weeping and groaning and complaining of his lot answered, “Ho thou! methinks thou art mad; for this is not the way of a man of sense. How should a dog of mine make generous gift to thee of a dish of gold and I meanly take back the price of what a dog gave? This were indeed a strange thing! Were I in extremest unease and misery, by Allah, I would not accept of thee aught; no, not the worth of a nail-paring! So return whence thou camest in health and safety.”4 Whereupon the merchant kissed his feet and taking leave of him, returned whence he came, praising him and reciting this couplet,
“Men and dogs together are all gone by,
So peace be with all of them! dogs and men!’
And Allah is All knowing! Again men tell the tale of
1 In all hot-damp countries it is necessary to clothe dogs, morning and evening especially: otherwise they soon die of rheumatism and loin disease.
2 =Beatrice. A fragment of these lines is in Night cccxv. See also Night dcclxxxi.
3 The Moslems borrowed the horrible idea of a “jealous God” from their kinsmen, the Jews. Every race creates its own Deity after the fashion of itself: Jehovah is distinctly a Hebrew, the Christian Theos is originally a Judæo-Greek and Allah a half-Badawi Arab. In this tale Allah, despotic and unjust, brings a generous and noble-minded man to beggary, simply because he fed his dogs off gold plate. Wisdom and morality have their infancy and youth: the great value of such tales as these is to show and enable us to measure man’s development.
4 In Trébutien (Lane ii. 501) the merchant says to ex-Dives, “Thou art wrong in charging Destiny with injustice. If thou art ignorant of the cause of thy ruin I will acquaint thee with it. Thou feddest the dogs in dishes of gold and leftest the poor to die of hunger.” A superstition, but intelligible.
There was once in the coast-fortress of Alexandria, a Chief of Police, Husám al-Din hight, the sharp Scymitar of the Faith. Now one night as he sat in his seat of office, behold, there came in to him a trooper-wight who said, “Know, O my lord the Chief, that I entered your city this night and alighted at such a khan and slept there till a third part of the night was past when I awoke and found my saddle-bags sliced open and a purse of a thousand gold pieces stolen from them.” No sooner had he done speaking than the Chief summoned his chief officials and bade them lay hands on all in the khan and clap them in limbo till the morning; and on the morrow, he caused bring the rods and whips used in punishment, and, sending for the prisoners, was about to flog them till they confessed in the presence of the owner of the stolen money when, lo! a man broke through the crowd till he came up to the Chief of Police — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Chief was about to flog them when lo! a man broke through the crowd till he came up to the Chief of Police and the trooper and said; “Ho! Emir, let these folk go, for they are wrongously accused. It was I who robbed this trooper, and see, here is the purse I stole from his saddle-bags.” So saying, he pulled out the purse from his sleeve and laid it before Husam al-Din, who said to the soldier, “Take thy money and pouch it; thou now hast no ground of complaint against the people of the khan.” Thereupon these folk and all who were present fell to praising the thief and blessing him; but he said, “Ho! Emir, the skill is not in that I came to thee in person and brought thee the purse; the cleverness was in taking it a second time from this trooper.” Asked the Chief, “And how didst thou do to take it, O sharper?”; and the robber replied, “O Emir, I was standing in the Shroff’s1 bazar at Cairo, when I saw this soldier receive the gold in change and put it in yonder purse; so I followed him from by-street to by-street, but found no occasion of stealing it. Then he travelled from Cairo and I followed him from town to town, plotting and planning by the way to rob him, but without avail, till he entered this city and I dogged him to the khan. I took up my lodging beside him and watched him till he fell asleep and I heard him sleeping; when I went up to him softly, softly; and I slit open his saddle-bags with this knife, and took the purse in the way I am now taking it.” So saying, he put out his hand and took the purse from before the Chief of Police and the trooper, both of whom, together with the folk, drew back watching him and thinking he would show them how he took the purse from the saddle-bags. But, behold! he suddenly broke into a run and threw himself into a pool of standing water2 hard by. So the Chief of the Police shouted to his officers, “Stop thief!” and many made after him; but before they could doff their clothes and descend the steps, he had made off; and they sought for him, but found him not; for that the by-streets and lanes of Alexandria all communicate. So they came back without bringing the purse; and the Chief of Police said to the trooper, “Thou hast no demand upon the folk; for thou fondest him who robbed thee and receivedst back thy money, but didst not keep it.” So the trooper went away, having lost his money, whilst the folk were delivered from his hands and those of the Chief of Police, and all this was of the favour of Almighty Allah.3 And they also tell the tale of
1 Arab. “Sarráf” = a money changer.
2 Arab. “Birkah,” a common feature in the landscapes of Lower Egypt: it is either a natural-pool left by the overflow of the Nile; or, as in the text, a built-up tank, like the “Táláb” for which India is famous. Sundry of these Birkahs are or were in Cairo itself; and some are mentioned in The Nights.
3 This sneer at the “military” and the “police” might come from an English convict’s lips.
Once upon a time Al–Malik al-Násir1 sent for the Wális or Chiefs of Police of Cairo, Bulak, and Fostat2 and said to them, “I desire each of you to recount me the marvellousest thing that hath befallen him during his term of office.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lit. “The conquering King;” a dynastic title assumed by Saláh al-Dín (Saladin) and sundry of the Ayyúbi (Eyoubite) sovereigns of Egypt, whom I would call the “Soldans.”
2 “Káhirah” (i.e. City of Mars the Planet) is our Cairo: Bulak is the port suburb on the Nile, till 1858 wholly disjoined from the City; and Fostat is the outlier popularly called Old Cairo. The latter term is generally translated “town of leathern tents;” but in Arabic “fustát” is an abode of Sha’ar=hair, such as horse-hair, in fact any hair but “Wabar”=soft hair, as the camel’s. See Lane, Lex.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth Al–Malik al-Nasir to the three Walis, “I desire each of you to recount me the marvellousest thing which hath befallen him during his term of office.” So they answered, “We hear and we obey.” Then said the Chief of the Police of Cairo, “Know thou, O our lord the Sultan, the most wonderful thing that befel me, during my term of office, was on this wise:” and he began
“There were in this city two men of good repute fit to bear witness1 in matters of murder and wounds; but they were both secretly addicted to intrigues with low women and to wine-bibbing and to dissolute doings, nor could I succeed (do what I would) in bringing them to book, and I began to despair of success. So I charged the taverners and confectioners and fruiterers and candle-chandlers and the keepers of brothels and bawdy houses to acquaint me of these two good men whenever they should anywhere be engaged in drinking or other debauchery, or together or apart; and ordered that, if they both or if either of them bought at their shops aught for the purpose of wassail and carousel, the vendors should not conceal-it from me. And they replied, ‘We hear and obey.’ Presently it chanced that one night, a man came to me and said, ‘O my master, know that the two just men, the two witnesses, are in such a street in such a house, engaged in abominable wickedness.’ So I disguised myself, I and my body-servant, and ceased not trudging till I came to the house and knocked at the door, whereupon a slave-girl came out and opened to me, saying, ‘Who art thou?’ I entered without answering her and saw the two legal-witnesses and the house-master sitting, and lewd women by their side and before them great plenty of wine. When they saw me, they rose to receive me, and made much of me, seating me in the place of honour and saying to me, ‘Welcome for an illustrious guest and well come for a pleasant cup-companion!’ And on this wise they met me without showing a sign of alarm or trouble. Presently, the master of the house arose from amongst us and went out and returned after a while with three hundred dinars, when the men said to me, without the least fear, ‘Know, O our lord the Wali, it is in thy power to do even more than disgrace and punish us; but this will bring thee in return nothing but weariness: so we reck thou wouldest do better to take this much money and protect us; for Almighty Allah is named the Protector and loveth those of His servants who protect their Moslem neighbours; and thou shalt have thy reward in this world and due recompense in the world to come.’ So I said to myself, ‘I will take the money and protect them this once, but, if ever again I have them in my power, I will take my wreak of them;’ for, you see, the money had tempted me. Thereupon I took it and went away thinking that no one would know it; but, next day, on a sudden one of the Kazi’s messengers came to me and said to me, ‘O Wali, be good enough to answer the summons of the Kazi who wanteth thee.’ So I arose and accompanied him, knowing not the meaning of all this; and when I came into the judge’s presence, I saw the two witnesses and the master of the house, who had given me the money, sitting by his side. Thereupon this man rose and sued me for three hundred dinars, nor was it in my power to deny the debt; for he produced a written obligation and his two companions, the legal witnesses, testified against me that I owed the amount. Their evidence satisfied the Kazi and he ordered me to pay the sum, nor did I leave the Court till they had of me the three hundred gold pieces. So I went away, in the utmost wrath and shame, vowing mischief and vengeance against them and repenting that I had not punished them. Such, then is the most remarkable event which befel me during my term of office.” Thereupon rose the Chief of the Bulak Police and said, “As for me, O our lord the Sultan, the most marvellous thing that happened to me, since I became Wali, was as follows:” and he began
1 Arab. “Adl”=just: a legal-witness to whose character there is no tangible objection a prime consideration in Moslem law. Here “Adl” is evidently used ironically for a hypocritical-rascal
“I was once in debt to the full amount of three hundred thousand gold pieces;1 and, being distressed thereby, I sold all that was behind me and what was before me and all I hent in hand, but I could collect no more than an hundred thousand dinars”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 503) considers three thousand dinars (the figure in the Bres. Edit.) “a more probable sum.” Possibly: but, I repeat, exaggeration is one of the many characteristics of The Nights.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wali of Bulak continued: “So I sold all that was behind and before me, but could collect no more than an hundred thousand dinars and remained in great perplexity. Now one night, as I sat at home in this state, behold, there came a knocking; so I said to one of my servants, ‘See who is at the door.’ He went out and returned, wan of face, changed in countenance and with his side-muscles a-quivering; so I asked him, ‘What aileth thee?’; and he answered, ‘There is a man at the door; he is half naked, clad in skins, with sword in hand and knife in girdle, and with him are a company of the same fashion and he asketh for thee.’ So I took my sword and going out to see who these were, behold, I found them as the boy had reported and said to them, ‘What is your business?’ They replied, ‘Of a truth we be thieves and have done fine work this night; so we appointed the swag to thy use, that thou mayst pay therewith the debts which sadden thee and deliver thee from thy distress.’ Quoth I, ‘Where is the plunder?’; and they brought me a great chest, full of vessels of gold and silver; which when I saw, I rejoiced and said to myself, ‘Herewith I will settle all claims upon me and there will remain as much again.’ So I took the money and going inside said in my mind, ‘It were ignoble to let them fare away empty-handed.’ Whereupon I brought out the hundred thousand dinars I had by me and gave it to them, thanking them for their kindness; and they pouched the monies and went their way, under cover of the night so that none might know of them. But when morning dawned I examined the contents of the chest, and found them copper and tin1 washed with gold worth five hundred dirhams at the most; and this was grievous to me, for I had lost what monies I had and trouble was added to my trouble. Such, then, is the most remarkable event which befel me during my term of office.” Then rose the Chief of the Police of Old Cairo and said, “O our lord the Sultan, the most marvellous thing that happened to me, since I became Wali, was on this wise;” and he began
1 Calc. Edit. “Kazir:” the word is generally written “Kazdír,” Sansk. Kastira, born probably from the Greek.
“I once hanged ten thieves each on his own gibbet, and especially charged the guards to watch them and hinder the folk from taking any one of them down. Next morning when I came to look at them, I found two bodies hanging from one gallows and said to the guards, ‘Who did this, and where is the tenth gibbet?’ But they denied all knowledge of it, and I was about to beat them till they owned the truth, when they said, ‘Know, O Emir, that we fell asleep last night, and when we awoke, we found that some one had stolen one of the bodies, gibbet and all; so we were alarmed and feared thy wrath. But, behold, up came a peasant-fellow driving his ass; whereupon we laid hands on him and killed him and hanged his body upon this gallows, in the stead of the thief who had been stolen.’1 Now when I heard this, I marvelled and asked them, ‘What had he with him?’; and they answered, ‘He had a pair of saddle-bags on the ass.’ Quoth I, ‘What was in them?’; quoth they, ‘We know not.’ So I said, ‘Bring them hither;’ and when they brought them to me I bade open them, behold, therein was the body of a murdered man, cut in pieces. Now as soon as I saw this, I marvelled at the case and said in myself, ‘Glory to God! The cause of the hanging of this peasant was none other but his crime against this murdered man; and thy Lord is not unjust towards His servants.’”2 And men also tell the tale of
1 This would have passed for a peccadillo in the “good old days.” As late as 1840 the Arnaut soldiers used to “pot” any peasant who dared to ride (instead of walking) past their barracks. Life is cheap in hot countries.
2 Koran, xii. 46 — a passage expounding the doctrine of free will: “He who doth right doth it to the advantage of his own soul; and he who doth evil, doth it against the same; for thy Lord,” etc.
A certain Shroff, bearing a bag of gold pieces, once passed by a company of thieves, and one of these sharpers said to the others, “I, and I only, have the power to steal yonder purse.” So they asked, “How wilt thou do it?”; and he answered, “Look ye all!”; and followed the money-changer, till he entered his house, when he threw the bag on a shelf1 and, being affected with diabetes, went into the chapel of ease to do his want, calling to the slave-girl, “Bring me an ewer of water.” She took the ewer and followed him to the privy, leaving the door open, whereupon the thief entered and, seizing the money-bag, made off with it to his companions, to whom he told what had passed. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Suffah”; whence our Sofa. In Egypt it is a raised shelf generally of stone, about four feet high and headed with one or more arches. It is an elaborate variety of the simple “Ták” or niche, a mere hollow in the thickness of the wall. Both are used for such articles as basin. ewer and soap; coffee cups, water bottles etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the thief took the money-bag and made off with it to his companions to whom he told what had passed. Said they, “By Allah, thou hast played a clever trick! ‘’tis not every one could do it; but, presently the money-changer will come out of the privy; and missing the bag of money, he will beat the slave-girl and torture her with grievous torture. ’Tis as though thou hast at present done nothing worthy of praise; so, if thou be indeed a sharper, return and save the girl from being beaten and questioned.” Quoth he, ‘ Inshallah! I will save both girl and purse.” Then the prig went back to the Shroff’s house and found him punishing the girl because of the purse; so he knocked at the door and the man said, “Who is there?” Cried the thief, “I am the servant of thy neighbour in the Exchange;” whereupon he came out to him and said, “What is thy business?” The thief replied, “My master saluteth thee and saith to thee: ‘Surely thou art deranged and thoroughly so, to cast the like of this bag of money down at the door of thy shop and go away and leave it.’ Had a stranger hit upon it he had made off with it and, except my master had seen it and taken care of it, it had assuredly been lost to thee.” So saying, he pulled out the purse and showed it to the Shroff who on seeing it said, “That is my very purse,” and put out his hand to take it; but the thief said, “By Allah, I will not give thee this same, till thou write me a receipt declaring that thou hast received it! for indeed I fear my master will not believe that thou hast recovered the purse, unless I bring him thy writing to that effect, and sealed with thy signet-seal.” The money changer went in to write the paper required; and in the meantime the thief made off with the bag of money and thus was the slave-girl saved her beating. And men also tell a tale of
It is related that Alá al-Dín, Chief of Police at Kús,1 was sitting one night in his house, when behold, a personage of handsome appearance and dignified aspect came to the door, accompanied by a servant bearing a chest upon his head and, standing there said to one of the Wali’s young men, “Go in and tell the Emir that I would have audience of him on some privy business.” So the servant went in and told his master, who bade admit the visitor. When he entered, the Emir saw him to be a man of handsome semblance and portly presence; so he received him with honour and high distinction, seating him beside himself, and said to him, “What is thy wish?” Replied the stranger, “I am a highwayman and am minded to repent at thy hands and turn to Almighty Allah; but I would have thee help me to this, for that I am in thy district and under thine inspection. Now I have here a chest, wherein are matters worth some forty thousand dinars; and none hath so good a right to it as thou; so do thou take it and give me in exchange a thousand dinars, of thine own monies lawfully gotten, that I may have a little capital, to aid me in my repentance,2 and save me from resorting to sin for my subsistence; and with Allah Almighty be thy reward!” Speaking thus he opened the chest and showed the Wali that it was full of trinkets and jewels and bullion and ring-gems and pearls, whereat he was amazed and rejoiced with great joy. So he cried out to his treasurer, saying, “Bring hither a certain purse containing a thousand dinars,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wali cried out to his treasurer, saying “Bring hither a certain purse containing a thousand dinars; and gave it to the highwayman, who took it and thanking him, went his way under cover of the night. Now when it was the morrow, the Emir sent for the chief of the goldsmiths and showed him the chest and what was therein; but the goldsmith found it nothing but tin and brass, and the jewels and bezel stones and pearls all of glass; whereat the Wali was sore chagrined and sent in quest of the highwayman; but none could come at him. And men also tell the tale of
The Caliph Al–Maamún once said to his uncle Ibrahim bin Al–Mahdí, “Tell us the most remarkable thing that thou hast ever seen.” Answered he: “I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful. Know that I rode out one day, a-pleasuring, and my ride brought me to a place where I smelt the reek of food. So my soul longed for it and I halted, O Prince of True Believers, perplexed and unable either to go on or to go in. Presently, I raised my eyes and lo! I espied a lattice-window and behind it a wrist, than which I never beheld aught lovelier. The sight turned my brain and I forgot the smell of the food and began to plan and plot how I should get access to the house. After awhile, I observed a tailor hard by and going up to him, saluted him. He returned my salam and I asked him, ‘Whose house is that?’ And he answered, ‘It belongeth to a merchant called such an one, son of such an one, who consorteth with none save merchants.’ As we were talking, behold, up came two men, of comely aspect with intelligent countenances, riding on horseback; and the tailor told me that they were the merchant’s most intimate friends and acquainted me with their names. So I urged my beast towards them and said to them, ‘Be I your ransom! Abu Fulán1 awaiteth you!’; and I rode with them both to the gate, where I entered and they also. Now when the master of the house saw me with them he doubted not but I was their friend; so he welcomed me and seated me in the highest stead. Then they brought the table of food and I said in myself, ‘Allah hath granted me my desire of the food; and now there remain the hand and the wrist.’ After awhile, we removed for carousel to another room, which I found tricked out with all manner of rarities; and the host paid me particular attention, addressing his talk to me, for that he took me to be a guest of his guests; whilst in like manner these two made much of me, taking me for a friend of their friend the house-master. Thus I was the object of politest attentions till we had drunk several cups of wine and there came into us a damsel as she were a willow wand of the utmost beauty and elegance, who took a lute and playing a lively measure, sang these couplets,
‘Is it not strange one house us two contain
And still thou draw’st not near, or talk we twain?
Only our eyes tell secrets of our souls,
And broken hearts by lovers’ fiery pain;
Winks with the eyelids, signs the eyebrow knows;
Languishing looks and hand saluting fain.’
When I heard these words my vitals were stirred, O Commander of the Faithful, and I was moved to delight, for her excessive loveliness and the beauty of the verses she sang; and I envied her her skill and said, ‘There lacketh somewhat to thee, O damsel!’ Whereupon she threw the lute from her hand in anger, and cried, ‘Since when are ye wont to bring ill-mannered louts into your assemblies?’ Then I repented of what I had done, seeing the company vexed with me, and I said in my mind, ‘My hopes are lost by me’; and I weeted no way of escaping blame but to call for a lute, saying, ‘I will show you what escaped her in the air she played.’ Quoth the folk, ‘We hear and obey’; so they brought me a lute and I tuned the strings and sang these verses,
‘This is thy friend perplexed for pain and pine,
Th’ enamoured, down whose breast course drops of brine:
He hath this hand to the Compassionate raised
For winning wish, and that on hearts is lien:
O thou who seest one love-perishing,
His death is caused by those hands and eyne!’2
Whereupon the damsel sprang up and throwing herself at my feet, kissed them and said, ‘It is thine to excuse, O my Master! By Allah, I knew not thy quality nor heard I ever the like of this performance!’ And all began extolling me and making much of me, being beyond measure delighted’ and at last they besought me to sing again. So I sang a merry air, whereupon they all became drunken with music and wine, their wits left them and they were carried off to their homes, while I abode alone with the host and the girl. He drank some cups with me and then said, ‘O my lord, my life hath been lived in vain for that I have not known the like of thee till the present. Now, by Allah, tell me who thou art, that I may ken who is the cup-companion whom Allah hath bestowed on me this night.’ At first I returned him evasive answers and would not tell him my name; but he conjured me till I told him who I was, whereupon he sprang to his feet”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. “the father of a certain person”; here the merchant whose name may have been Abu’l Hasan, etc. The useful word (thingumbob, what d’ye call him, donchah, etc.) has been bodily transferred into Spanish and Portuguese Fulano. It is of old genealogy, found in the Heb. Fuluní which applies to a person only in Ruth iv. I, but is constantly so employed by Rabbinic writers. The Greek use {Greek letters}.
2 Lit. “by his (i.e. her) hand,” etc. Hence Lane (ii. 507) makes nonsense of the line.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ibrahim son of Al–Mahdi continued: “Now when the housemaster heard my name he sprang to his feet and said, ‘Indeed I wondered that such gifts should belong to any but the like of thee; and Fortune hath done me a good turn for which I cannot thank her too much. But, haply, this is a dream; for how could I hope that one of the Caliphate house should visit my humble home and carouse with me this night?’ I conjured him to be seated; so he sat down and began to question me as to the cause of my visit in the most courteous terms. So I told him the whole affair, first and last, hiding naught, and said to him, ‘Now as to the food I have had my will, but of the hand and wrist I have still to win my wish.’ Quoth he, ‘Thou shalt have thy desire of the hand and wrist also, Inshallah!’ Then said he to the slave-girl, ‘Ho, such an one, bid such an one come down.’ And he called his slave-girls down, one by one and showed them to me; but I saw not my mistress among them, and he said, ‘O my lord, there is none left save my mother and sister; but, by Allah, I must needs have them also down and show them to thee.’ So I marvelled at his courtesy and large heartedness and said, ‘May I be thy sacrifice! Begin with the sister;’ and he answered, ‘With joy and goodwill.’ So she came down and he showed me her hand and behold, she was the owner of the hand and wrist. Quoth I, ‘Allah make me thy ransom! this is the damsel whose hand and wrist I saw at the lattice.’ Then he sent his servants without stay or delay for witnesses and bringing out two myriads1 of gold pieces, said to the witnesses, ‘This our lord and master, Ibrahim son of Al–Mahdi, paternal-uncle of the Commander of the Faithful, seeketh in marriage my sister such an one; and I call you to witness that I give her in wedlock to him and that he hath settled upon her ten thousand dinars.’ And he said to me, ‘I give thee my sister in marriage, at the portion aforesaid.’ ‘I consent,’ answered I, ‘and am herewith content.’ Whereupon he gave one of the bags to her and the other to the witnesses, and said to me, ‘O our lord, I desire to adorn a chamber for thee, where thou mayst sleep with thy wife.’ But I was abashed at his generosity and was ashamed to lie with her in his house; so I said, ‘Equip her and send her to my place.’ And by thy being, O Commander of the Faithful, he sent me with her such an equipage that my house, for all its greatness, was too strait to hold it! And I begot on her this boy that standeth in thy presence.” Then Al–Maamun marvelled at the man’s generosity and said, “Gifted of Allah is he! Never heard I of his like.” And he bade Ibrahim bin al-Mahdi bring him to court, that he might see him. He brought him and the Caliph conversed with him; and his wit and good breeding so pleased him that he made him one of his chief officers. And Allah is the Giver, the Bestower! Men also relate the tale of
1 Arab. “Badrah,” as has been said, is properly a weight of 10,000 dirhams or drachmas; but popularly used for largesse thrown to the people at festivals.
A certain King once made proclamation to the people of his realm saying, “If any of you give alms of aught, I will verily and assuredly cut off his hand;” wherefore all the people abstained from alms-deed, and none could give anything to any one. Now it chanced that one day a beggar accosted a certain woman (and indeed hunger was sore upon him), and said to her, “Give me an alms”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that, quoth the beggar to the woman, “Give me an alms however small.” But she answered him, “How can I give thee aught, when the King cutteth off the hands of all who give alms?” Then he said, “I conjure thee by Allah Almighty, give me an alms;” so when he adjured her by the Holy Name of Allah, she had ruth on him and gave him two scones. The King heard of this; whereupon he called her before him and cut off her hands, after which she returned to her house. Now it chanced after a while that the King said to his mother, “I have a mind to take a wife; so do thou marry me to a fair woman.” Quoth she, “There is among our female slaves one who is unsurpassed in beauty; but she hath a grievous blemish.” The King asked, “What is that?” and his mother answered, “She hath had both her hands cut off.” Said he, “Let me see her.” So she brought her to him, and he was ravished by her and married her and went in unto her; and begat upon her a son. Now this was the woman who had given two scones as an alms to the asker, and whose hands had been cut off therefor; and when the King married her, her fellow-wives envied her and wrote to the common husband that she was an unchaste, having just given birth to the boy; so he wrote to his mother, bidding her carry the woman into the desert and leave her there. The old Queen obeyed his commandment and abandoned the woman and her son in the desert; whereupon she fell to weeping for that which had befallen her and wailing with exceeding sore wail. As she went along, she came to a river and knelt down to drink, being overcome with excess of thirst, for fatigue of walking and for grief; but, as she bent her head, the child which was at her neck fell into the water. Then she sat weeping bitter tears for her child, and as she wept, behold came up two men, who said to her, “What maketh thee weep?” Quoth she, “I had a child at my neck, and he hath fallen into the water.” They asked, “Wilt thou that we bring him out to thee?” and she answered, “Yes.” So they prayed to Almighty Allah, and the child came forth of the water to her, safe and sound. Then said they, “Wilt thou that Allah restore thee thy hands as they were?” “Yes,” replied she: whereupon they prayed to Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and her hands were restored to her, goodlier than before. Then said they, “Knowest thou who we are?”; and she replied, “Allah is all knowing;”1 and they said, “We are thy two Scones of Bread, which thou gavest in alms to the asker and which were the cause of the cutting off of thy hands.2 So praise thou Allah Almighty for that He hath restored to thee thy hands and thy child.” Then she praised Almighty Allah and glorified Him. And men relate a tale of
1 Arab. “Allaho A’alam”; (God knows!) here the popular phrase for our, “I know not;” when it would be rude to say bluntly “M’adri”= “don’t know.”
2 There is a picturesque Moslem idea that good deeds become incarnate and assume human shapes to cheer the doer in his grave, to greet him when he enters Paradise and so forth. It was borrowed from the highly imaginative faith of the Guebre, the Zoroastrian. On Chinavad or Chanyud-pul (Sirát), the Judgement bridge, 37 rods (rasan) long, straight and 37 fathoms broad for the good, and crooked and narrow as sword-edge for the bad, a nymph-like form will appear to the virtuous and say, “I am the personification of thy good deeds!” In Hell there will issue from a fetid gale a gloomy figure with head like a minaret, red eyeballs, hooked nose, teeth like pillars, spear-like fangs, snaky locks etc. and when asked who he is he will reply, “I am the personification of thine evil acts!” (Dabistan i. 285.) The Hindus also personify everything.
There was once a devout man of the Children of Israel,1 whose family span cotton-thread; and he used every day to sell the yarn and buy fresh cotton, and with the profit he laid in daily bread for his household. One morning he went out and sold the day’s yarn as wont, when there met him one of his brethren, who complained to him of need; so he gave him the price of the thread and returned, empty-handed, to his family, who said to him, “Where is the cotton and the food?” Quoth he, “Such an one met me and complained to me of want; whereupon I gave him the price of the yarn.” And they said, “How shall we do? We have nothing to sell.” Now they had a cracked trencher2 and a jar; so he took them to the bazar but none would buy them of him. However presently, as he stood in the market, there passed by a man with a fish — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Banú Israíl;” applied to the Jews when theirs was the True Faith i.e. before the coming of Jesus, the Messiah, whose mission completed that of Moses and made it obsolete (Matrúk) even as the mission of Jesus was completed and abrogated by that of Mohammed. The term “Yahúd”=Jew is applied scornfully to the Chosen People after they rejected the Messiah, but as I have said “Israelite” is used on certain occasions, Jew on others.
2 Arab. “Kasa’ah,” a wooden bowl, a porringer; also applied to a saucer.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the man took the trencher and jar to the bazar, but none would buy them of him. However there presently passed by a man with a fish which was so stinking and so swollen that no one would buy it of him, and he said to the Jew, “Wilt thou sell me thine unsaleable ware for mine?” “Yes,” answered the Jew; and, giving him the wooden trencher and jar, took the fish and carried it home to his family, who said, “What shall we do with this fish?” Quoth he, “We will broil it and eat it, till it please Allah to provide bread for us.” So they took it and ripping open its belly, found therein a great pearl and told the head of the household who said, “See ye if it be pierced: if so, it belongeth to some one of the folk; if not, ’tis a provision of Allah for us.” So they examined it and found it unpierced. Now when it was the morrow, the Jew carried it to one of his brethren which was an expert in jewels, and the man asked, “O such an one! whence haddest thou this pearl?”; whereto the Jew answered, “It was a gift of Almighty Allah to us,” and the other said, “It is worth a thousand dirhams and I will give thee that; but take it to such an one, for he hath more money and skill than I.” So the Jew took it to the jeweller, who said, “It is worth seventy thousand dirhams and no more.” Then he paid him that sum and the Jew hired two porters to carry the money to his house. As he came to his door, a beggar accosted him, saying, “Give me of that which Allah hath given thee.” Quoth the Jew to the asker, “But yesterday we were even as thou; take thee half this money:” so he made two parts of it, and each took his half. Then said the beggar, “Take back thy money and Allah bless and prosper thee in it; I am a Messenger,1 whom thy Lord hath sent to try thee.” Quoth the Jew, “To Allah be the praise and the thanks!” and abode in all delight of life he and his household till death. And men recount this story of
1 Arab. “Rasúl”=one sent, an angel, an “apostle;” not to be translated, as by the vulgar, “prophet.” Moreover Rasul is higher than Nabí (prophet), such as Abraham, Isaac, etc., depositaries of Al–Islam, but with a succession restricted to their own families. Nabi-mursil (Prophet-apostle) is the highest of all, one sent with a book: of these are now only four, Moses, David, Jesus and Mohammed, the writings of the rest having perished. In Al–Islam also angels rank below men, being only intermediaries (=, nuncii, messengers) between the Creator and the Created. This knowledge once did me a good turn at Harar, not a safe place in those days. (First Footsteps in East Africa, p. 349.)
Quoth Abú Hassán al-Ziyádi1: “I was once in straitened case and so needy that the grocer, the baker and other tradesmen dunned and importuned me; and my misery became extreme, for I knew of no resource nor what to do. Things being on this wise there came to me one day certain of my servants and said to me, ‘At the door is a pilgrim wight, who seeketh admission to thee.’ Quoth I, ‘Admit him.’ So he came in and behold, he was a Khorasání. We exchanged salutations and he said to me, ‘Tell me, art thou Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi?’; and I replied, ‘Yes, what is thy wish?’ Quoth he, ‘I am a stranger and am minded to make the pilgrimage; but I have with me a great sum of money, which is burdensome to bear: so I wish to deposit these ten thousand dirhams with thee whilst I make my pilgrimage and return. If the caravan march back and thou see me not, then know that I am dead, in which case the money is a gift from me to thee; but if I come back, it shall be mine.’ I answered, ‘Be it as thou wilt, an thus please Allah Almighty.’ So he brought out a leather bag and I said to the servant, ‘Fetch the scales;’ and when he brought them the man weighed out the money and handed it to me, after which he went his way. Then I called the purveyors and paid them my liabilities”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A doctor of law in the reign of Al–Maamun.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi: “I called the purveyors and paid them my liabilities and spent freely and amply, saying to myself, ‘By the time he returns, Allah will have relieved me with one or other of the bounties He hath by Him.’ However, on the very next day, the servant came in to me and said, ‘Thy friend the Khorasan man is at the door.’ ‘Admit him,’ answered I. So he came in and said to me, ‘I had purposed to make the pilgrimage; but news hath reached me of the decease of my father, and I have resolved to return; so give me the monies I deposited with thee yesterday.’ When I heard this, I was troubled and perplexed beyond measure of perplexity known to man and wotted not what reply to make him; for, if I denied it, he would put me on my oath, and I should be disgraced in the world to come; whilst, if I told him that I had spent the money, he would make an outcry and dishonour me before men. So I said to him, ‘Allah give thee health! This my house is no stronghold nor site of safe custody for this money. When I received thy leather bag, I sent it to one with whom it now is; so do thou return to us to-morrow and take thy money, Inshallah!’1 So he went away and I passed the night in great concern, because of his return to me; sleep visited me not nor could I close my eyes; so I rose and bade the boy saddle me the she-mule. Answered he, ‘O my lord, it is yet but the first third of the night and indeed we have hardly had time to rest.’ I returned to my bed, but sleep was forbidden to me and I ceased not to awaken the boy, and he to put me off, till break of day, when he saddled me the mule, and I mounted and rode out, not knowing whither to go. I threw the reins on the mule’s shoulders and gave myself up to regrets and melancholy thoughts, whilst she fared on with me to the eastward of Baghdad. Presently, as I went along, behold, I saw a number of people approaching me and turned aside into another path to avoid them; but seeing that I wore a turband in preacher-fashion,2 they followed me and hastening up to me, said, ‘Knowest thou the lodging of Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi?’ ‘I am he,’ answered I; and they rejoined, ‘Obey the summons of the Commander of the Faithful.’ Then they carried me before Al–Maamun, who said to me, ‘Who art thou?’ Quoth I, ‘An associate of the Kazi Abu Yúsuf and a doctor of the law and traditions.’ Asked the Caliph, ‘By what surname art thou known?’3 and I answered, ‘Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi;’ whereupon quoth he, ‘Expound to me thy case.’ So I recounted to him my case and he wept sore and said to me, ‘Out on thee! The Apostle of Allah (whom Allah bless and assain!) would not let me sleep this night, because of thee; for in early darkness4 he appeared to me and said, ‘Succour Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi.’ Whereupon I awoke and, knowing thee not, went to sleep again; but he came to me a second time and said to me, ‘Woe to thee! Succour Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi.’ I awoke a second time, but knowing thee not I went to sleep again; and he came to me a third time and still I knew thee not and went to sleep again. Then he came to me once more and said, ‘Out on thee! Succour Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi!’ After that I dared not sleep any more, but watched the rest of the night and aroused my people and sent them on all sides in quest of thee.’ Then he gave me one myriad of dirhams, saying, ‘This is for the Khorasani,’ and other ten thousand, saying, ‘Spend freely of this and amend thy case therewith, and set thine affairs in order.’ Moreover, he presented me with thirty thousand dirhams, saying, ‘Furnish thyself with this, and when the Procession-day5 is being kept, come thou to me, that I may invest thee with some office.’ So I went forth from him with the money and returned home, where I prayed the dawn-prayer; and behold, presently came the Khorasani, so I carried him into the house and brought out to him one myriad of dirhams, saying, ‘Here is thy money.’ Quoth he, ‘It is not my very money; how cometh this?’ So I told him the whole story, and he wept and said, ‘By Allah, haddest thou told me the fact at first, I had not pressed thee!; and now, by Allah, I will not accept aught of this money’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here the exclamation is= D.V.; and it may be assumed generally to have that sense.
2 Arab. “Taylasán,” a turban worn hood-fashion by the “Khatíb” or preacher. I have sketched it in my Pilgrimage and described it (iii. 315). Some Orientalists derive Taylasan from Atlas=satin, which is peculiarly inappropriate. The word is apparently barbarous and possibly Persian like Kalansuwah, the Dervish cap. “Thou son of a Taylasán”=a barbarian. (De Sacy, Chrest. Arab. ii. 269.)
3 Arab. “ Kinyah” vulg. “Kunyat” = patronymic or matronymic; a name beginning with “Abu” (father) or with “Umm” (mother). There are so few proper names in Al–Islam that such surnames, which, as will be seen, are of infinite variety, become necessary to distinguish individuals. Of these sobriquets I shall give specimens further on.
4 “Whoso seeth me in his sleep, seeth me truly; for Satan cannot assume my semblance,” said (or is said to have said) Mohammed. Hence the vision is true although it comes in early night and not before dawn. See Lane M. E., chaps. ix.
5 Arab. “Al–Maukab;” the day when the pilgrims march out of the city; it is a holiday for all, high and low.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the Khorasani to Al–Ziyadi, “‘By Allah, haddest thou told me the fact at first, I had not pressed thee!; and now, by Allah, I will not accept aught of this money and thou art lawfully quit of it.’ So saying, he went away and I set my affairs in order and repaired on the Procession-day to Al–Maamun’s Gate, where I found him seated. When he saw me present myself he called me to him and, bringing forth to me a paper from under his prayer-carpet, said to me, ‘This is a patent, conferring on thee the office of Kazi of the western division of Al–Medinah, the Holy City, from the Bab al-Salám1 to the furthest limit of the township; and I appoint thee such and such monthly allowances. So fear Allah (to whom be honour and glory!) end be mindful of the solicitude of His Apostle (whom may He bless and keep!) on thine account.’ Then the folk marvelled at the Caliph’s words and asked me their meaning; whereupon I told them the story from beginning to end and it spread abroad amongst the people.” “And” (quoth he who telleth the tale) “Abu Hassan al-Ziyadi ceased not to be Kazi of Al–Medinah, the Holy City, till he died in the days of Al–Maamun the mercy of Allah be on him!” And among the tales men tell is one of
1 “The Gate of Salutation;” at the South–Western corner of the Mosque where Mohammed is buried. (Pilgrimage ii. 60 and plan.) Here “Visitation” (Ziyárah) begins.
There was once a rich man who lost all he had and became destitute, whereupon his wife advised him to ask aid and assistance of one of his intimates. So he betook himself to a certain friend of his and acquainted him with his necessities; and he lent him five hundred dinars to trade withal. Now in early life he had been a jeweller; so he took the gold and went to the jewel-bazar, where he opened a shop to buy and sell. Presently, as he sat in his shop three men accosted him and asked for his father, and when he told them that he was deceased, they said, “Say, did he leave issue?” Quoth the jeweller, “He left the slave who is before you.” They asked, “And who knoweth thee for his son?”; and he answered, “The people of the bazar whereupon they said, “Call them together, that they may testify to us that thou art his very son.” So he called them and they bore witness of this; whereupon the three men delivered to him a pair of saddle-bags, containing thirty thousand dinars, besides jewels and bullion of high value, saying, “This was deposited with us in trust by thy father.” Then they went away; and presently there came to him a woman, who sought of him certain of the jewels, worth five hundred dinars which she bought and paid him three thousand for them. Upon this he arose and took five hundred dinars and carrying them to his friend who had lent him the money, said to him, “Take the five hundred dinars I borrowed of thee; for Allah hath opened to me the gate of prosperity.” Quoth the other, “Nay; I gave them to thee outright, for the love of Allah; so do thou keep them. And take this paper, but read it not till thou be at home, and do according to that which is therein.” So he took the money and the paper and returned home, where he opened the scroll and found therein inscribed these couplets,
“Kinsmen of mine were those three men who came to thee;
My sire and uncles twain and Sálih bin Ali.
So what for cash thou coldest, to my mother ’twas
Thou soldest it, and coin and gems were sent by me.
Thus doing I desired not any harm to thee
But in my presence spare thee and thy modesty.”
And they also recount the story of
There lived once in Baghdad a wealthy man and made of money, who lost all his substance and became so destitute that he could earn his living only by hard labour. One night, he lay down to sleep, dejected and heavy hearted, and saw in a dream a Speaker2 who said to him, “Verily thy fortune is in Cairo; go thither and seek it.” So he set out for Cairo; but when he arrived there evening overtook him and he lay down to sleep in a mosque Presently, by decree of Allah Almighty, a band of bandits entered the mosque and made their way thence into an adjoining house; but the owners, being aroused by the noise of the thieves, awoke and cried out; whereupon the Chief of Police came to their aid with his officers. The robbers made off; but the Wali entered the mosque and, finding the man from Baghdad asleep there, laid hold of him and beat him with palm-rods so grievous a beating that he was well-nigh dead. Then they cast him into jail, where he abode three days; after which the Chief of Police sent for him and asked him, “Whence art thou?”; and he answered, “From Baghdad.” Quoth the Wali, “And what brought thee to Cairo?”; and quoth the Baghdadi, “I saw in a dream One who said to me, Thy fortune is in Cairo; go thither to it. But when I came to Cairo the fortune which he promised me proved to be the palm-rods thou so generously gavest to me.” The Wali laughed till he showed his wisdom-teeth and said, “O man of little wit, thrice have I seen in a dream one who said to me: ‘There is in Baghdad a house in such a district and of such a fashion and its courtyard is laid out garden-wise, at the lower end whereof is a jetting-fountain and under the same a great sum of money lieth buried. Go thither and take it.’ Yet I went not; but thou, of the briefness of thy wit, hast journeyed from place to place, on the faith of a dream, which was but an idle galimatias of sleep.” Then he gave him money saying, “Help thee back herewith to thine own country;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wali gave the Baghdad man some silver, saying, “Help thee back herewith to thine own country;” and he took the money and set out upon his homewards march. Now the house the Wali had described was the man’s own house in Baghdad; so the wayfarer returned thither and, digging underneath the fountain in his garden, discovered a great treasure. And thus Allah gave him abundant fortune; and a marvellous coincidence occurred. And a story is also current of
There were in the palace of the Caliph al-Mutawakkil ala’llah1 four thousand concubines, whereof two thousand were Greeks and other two thousand slave born Arabians2 and Abyssinians; and ‘Obayd ibn Táhir3 had given him two hundred white girls and a like number of Abyssinian and native girls. Among these slave-borns was a girl of Bassorah, hight Mahbúbah, the Beloved, who was of surpassing beauty and loveliness, elegance and voluptuous grace. Moreover, she played upon the lute and was skilled in singing and making verses and wrote a beautiful hand; so that Al–Mutawakkil fell passionately in love with her and could not endure from her a single hour. But when she saw this affection, she presumed upon his favour to use him arrogantly, wherefore he waxed exceeding wroth with her and forsook her, forbidding the people of the palace to speak with her. She abode on this wise some days, but the Caliph still inclined to her; and he arose one morning and said to his courtiers, “I dreamt, last night, that I was reconciled to Mahhubah.” They answered, “Would Allah this might be on wake!”; and as they were talking, behold, in came one of the Caliph’s maidservants and whispered him; so he rose from his throne and entered the Serraglio; for the whisper had said, “Of a truth we heard singing and lute-playing in Mahbubah’s chamber and we knew not what this meant.” So he went straight to her apartment, where he heard her playing upon the lute and singing the following verses,
“I wander through the palace, but I sight there not a soul
To whom I may complain or will ‘change a word with me.
It is as though I’d done so grievous rebel-deed
Wherefrom can no contrition e’er avail to set me free.
Have we no intercessor here to plead with King, who came
In sleep to me and took me back to grace and amity;
But when the break of day arose and showed itself again,
Then he departing sent me back to dree my privacy?”
Now when the Caliph heard her voice, he marvelled at the verse and yet more at the strange coincidence of their dreams and entered the chamber. As soon as she perceived him, she hastened to rise and throw herself at his feet, and kissing them, said, “By Allah, O my lord, this hap is what I dreamt last night; and, when I awoke, I made the couplets thou hast heard.” Replied Al-Mutawakkil, “By Allah, I also dreamt the like!” Then they embraced and made friends and he abode with her seven days with their nights. Now Mahbubah had written upon her cheek, in musk, the Caliph’s name, which was Ja’afar: and when he saw this, he improvised the following,
“One wrote upon her cheek with musk, his name was Ja’afar hight;
My soul for hers who wrote upon her cheek the name I sight!
If an her fingers have inscribed one line upon her cheek,
Full many a line in heart of mine those fingers did indite:
O thou, whom Ja’afar sole of men possesseth for himself,
Allah fill Ja’afar4 stream full draught, the wine of thy delight!”
When Al–Mutawakkil died, his host of women forgot him, all save Mahhubah — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Tenth Abbaside. A.D. 849–861
2 Arab. “Muwallad” (fem. “Muwalladah”); a rearling, a slave born in a Moslem land. The numbers may appear exaggerated, but even the petty King of Ashanti had, till the last war, 3333 “wives.”
3 The Under-prefect of Baghdad.
4 “Ja’afar,” our old Giaffar (which is painfully like “Gaffer,” i.e. good father) means either a rushing river or a rivulet.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Al–Mutawakkil died, his host of women forgot him all save Mahbubah who ceased not to mourn for him, till she deceased and was buried by his side, the mercy of Allah be on them both! And men also tell the tale of
There lived once in Cairo, in the days of the Caliph Al-Hákim bi’ Amri’llah, a butcher named Wardán, who dealt in sheep’s flesh; and there came to him every day a lady and gave him a dinar, whose weight was nigh two and a half Egyptian dinars, saying, “Give me a lamb.” So he took the money and gave her the lamb, which she delivered to a porter she had with her; and he put it in his crate and she went away with him to her own place. Next day she came in the forenoon and this went on for a long time, the butcher gaining a dinar by her every day, till at last he began to be curious about her case and said to himself, “This woman buyeth of me a ducat-worth of meat every morning, paying ready money, and never misseth a single day. Verily, this is a strange thing!” So he took an occasion of questioning the porter, in her absence, and asked him, “Whither goest thou every day with yonder woman?”; and he answered, “I know not what to make of her for surprise; inasmuch as every day, after she hath taken the lamb of thee, she buyeth necessaries of the table, fresh and dried fruits and wax-candles a dinar’s worth, and taketh of a certain person, which is a Nazarene, two flagons of wine, worth another dinar; and then she leadeth me with the whole and I go with her to the Wazir’s Gardens, where she blindfoldeth me, so that I cannot see on what part of earth I set my feet; and, taking me by the hand, she leadeth me I know not whither. Presently, she sayeth, ‘Set down here;’ and when I have done so, she giveth me an empty crate she hath ready and, taking my hand, leadeth me back to the Wazir’s Gardens, the place where she bound my eyes, and there removeth the bandage and giveth me ten silver bits.” “Allah be her helper!” quoth Wardan; but he redoubled in curiosity about her case; disquietude increased upon him and he passed the night in exceeding restlessness. And quoth the butcher, “Next morning she came to me as of custom and taking the lamb, for which she paid the dinar, delivered it to the porter and went away. So I gave my shop in charge to a lad and followed her without her seeing me;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A regular Fellah’s name also that of a village (Pilgrimage i. 43) where a pleasant story is told about one Haykal.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Wardan the butcher continued: “So I gave my shop in charge to a lad and followed her without her seeing me; nor did I cease to keep her in sight, hiding behind her, till she left Cairo and came to the Wazir’s Gardens. Then I hid myself whilst she bandaged the porter’s eyes and followed her again from place to place till she came to the mountain1 and stopped at a spot where there was a great stone. Here she made the porter set down his crate, and I waited whilst she conducted him back to the Wazir’s Gardens, after which she returned and, taking out the contents of the basket, instantly disappeared. Then I went up to that stone and wrenching it up entered the hole and found behind the stone an open trap-door of brass and a flight of steps leading downwards. So I descended, little by little, till I came to a long corridor, brilliantly lighted and followed it, till I made a closed door, as it were the door of a saloon. I looked about the wall sides near the doorway till I discovered a recess, with steps therein; then climbed up and found a little niche with a bulls-eye giving upon a saloon. Thence I looked inside and saw the lady cut off the choicest parts of the lamb and laying them in a saucepan, throw the rest to a great big bear, who ate it all to the last bite. Now when she had made an end of cooking, she ate her fill, after which she set on the fruits and confections and brought out the wine and fell to drinking a cup herself and giving the bear to drink in a basin of gold. And as soon as she was heated with wine, she put off her petticoat-trousers and lay down on her back; whereupon the bear arose and came up to her and stroked her, whilst she gave him the best of what belongeth to the sons of Adam till he had made an end, when he sat down and rested. Presently, he sprang upon her and rogered her again; and when he ended he again sat down to rest, and he ceased not so doing till he had futtered her ten times and they both fell to the ground in a fainting-fit and lay without motion. Then quoth I to myself, ‘Now is my opportunity,’ and taking a knife I had with me, that would cut bones before flesh,2 went down to them and found them motionless, not a muscle of them moving for their hard swinking and swiving. So I put my knife to the bear’s gullet and pressed upon it, till I finished him by severing his head from his body, and he gave a great snort like thunder, whereat the lady started up in alarm; and, seeing the bear slain and me standing whittle in hand, she shrieked so loud a shriek that I thought the soul had left her body. Then she asked, ‘O Wardan, is this how thou requites me my favours?’ And I answered, ‘O enemy of thine own soul, is there a famine of men3 that thou must do this damnable thing?’ She made no answer but bent down over the bear, and looked fondly upon him; then finding his head divided from his body, said to me, ‘O Wardan, which of the two courses wouldst thou take; either obey me in what I shall say and be the means of thine own safety’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the lady, “ ‘O Wardan, which of the two courses wouldst thou take; either obey me in what I shall say and be the means of thine own safety and competency to the end of thy days, or gainsay me and so cause thine own destruction?’1 Answered I, ‘I choose rather to hearken unto thee: say what thou wilt.’ Quoth she, ‘Then slay me, as thou hast slain this bear, and take thy need of this hoard and wend thy ways.’ Quoth I, ‘I am better than this bear: so return thou to Allah Almighty and repent, and I will marry thee, and we will live on this treasure the rest of our lives.’ She rejoined, ‘O Wardan, far be it from me! How shall I live after him? By Allah, an thou slay me not I will assuredly do away thy life! So leave bandying words with me, or thou art a lost man: this is all I have to say to thee and peace be with thee!’ Then said I, ‘I will kill thee, and thou shalt go to the curse of Allah.’ So saying, I caught her by the hair and cut her throat; and she went to the curse of Allah and of the angels and of all mankind. And after so doing I examined the place and found there gold and bezel-stones and pearls, such as no one king could bring together. So I filled the porter’s crate with as much as I could carry and covered it with the clothes I had on me. Then I shouldered it and, going up out of the underground treasure-chamber, fared homewards and ceased not faring on, till I came to the gate of Cairo, where behold, I fell in with ten of the bodyguard of Al–Hakim bi’ Amri’llah2 followed by the Prince himself who said to me, ‘Ho, Wardan!’ ‘At thy service, O King,’ replied I; when he asked, ‘Hast thou killed the bear and the lady?’ and I answered, ‘Yes.’ Quoth he, ‘Set down the basket from thy head and fear naught, for all the treasure thou hast with thee is thine, and none shall dispute it with thee.’ So I set down the crate before him, and he uncovered it and looked at it; then said to me, ‘Tell me their case, albe I know it, as if I had been present with you.’ So I told him all that had passed and he said, ‘Thou hast spoken the truth,’ adding, ‘O Wardan, come now with me to the treasure.’ So I returned with him to the cavern, where he found the trap-door closed and said to me, ‘O Wardan, lift it; none but thou can open the treasure, for it is enchanted in thy name and nature.’3 Said I, ‘By Allah, I cannot open it,’ but he said, ‘Go up to it, trusting in the blessing of Allah.’ So I called upon the name of Almighty Allah and, advancing to the trap-door, put my hand to it; whereupon it came up as it had been of the lightest. Then said the Caliph, ‘Go down and bring hither what is there; for none but one of thy name and semblance and nature hath gone down thither since the place was made, and the slaying of the bear and the woman was appointed to be at thy hand. This was chronicled with me and I was awaiting its fulfilment.’4 Accordingly (quoth Wardan) I went down and brought up all the treasure, whereupon the Caliph sent for beasts of burden and carried it away, after giving me my crate, with what was therein. So I bore it home and opened me a shop in the market.” And (saith he who telleth the tale) “this market is still extant and is known as Wardan’s Market.” And I have heard recount another story of
1 She is a woman of rank who would cause him to be assassinated.
2 This is not Al–Hakimbi’ Amri’llah the famous or infamous founder of the Druze ((Durúz)) faith and held by them to be, not an incarnation of the Godhead, but the Godhead itself in propriâ personâ, who reigned A.D. 926–1021: our Hakim is the orthodox Abbaside Caliph of Egypt who dated from two centuries after him (A.D. 1261). Had the former been meant, it would have thrown back this part of The Nights to an earlier date than is generally accepted. But in a place still to come I shall again treat of the subject.
3 For an account of a similar kind which was told to me during the last few years see “Midian Revisited,” i. 15. These hiding-places are innumerable in lands of venerable antiquity like Egypt; and, if there were any contrivance for detecting hidden treasure, it would make the discoverer many times a millionaire.
4 i.e. it had been given to him or his in writing, like the book left to the old woman before quoted in “Midian,” etc.
There was once a Sultan’s daughter, whose heart was taken with love of a black slave: he abated her maidenhead and she became passionately addicted to futtering, so that she could not do without it a single hour and complained of her case to one of her body women, who told her that no thing poketh and stroketh more abundantly than the baboon. 1 Now it so chanced one day, that an ape-leader passed under her lattice, with a great ape; so she unveiled her face and looking upon the ape, signed to him with her eyes, whereupon he broke his bonds and chain and climbed up to the Princess, who hid him in a place with her, and night and day he abode there, eating and drinking and copulating. Her father heard of this and would have killed her; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kird” (pron. in Egypt “Gird”). It is usually the hideous Abyssinian cynocephalus which is tamed by the ape-leader popularly called Kuraydati (Lane, M.E., chaps. xx.). The beast has a natural-penchant for women; I heard of one which attempted to rape a girl in the public street and was prevented only by a sentinel’s bayonet. They are powerful animals and bite like greyhounds.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Sultan heard of this work he would have slain his daughter; but she smoked his design; and, disguising herself in Mameluke’s dress, mounted horse after loading a mule with gold and bullion, and precious stuffs past all account; then carrying with her the ape, she fled to Cairo, where she took up her abode in one of the houses without the city and upon the verge of the Suez-desert. Now, every day, she used to buy meat of a young man, a butcher, but she came not to him till after noonday; and then she was so yellow and disordered in face that he said in his mind, “There must indeed hang some mystery by this slave.” “Accordingly (quoth the butcher) one day when she came to me as usual, I went out after her secretly, and ceased not to follow her from place to place, so as she saw me not, till she came to her lodging on the edge of her waste and entered; and I looked in upon her through a cranny, and saw her as soon as she was at home, kindle a fire and cook the meat, of which she ate enough and served up the rest to a baboon she had by her and he did the same. Then she put off the slave’s habit and donned the richest of women’s apparel; and so I knew that she was a lady. After this she set on wine and drank and gave the ape to drink; and he stroked her nigh half a score times without drawing till she swooned away, when he spread over her a silken coverlet and returned to his place. Then I went down in the midst of the place and the ape, becoming aware of me, would have torn me in pieces; but I made haste to pull out my knife and slit his paunch and his bowels fell out. The noise aroused the young lady, who awoke terrified and trembling; and, when she saw the ape in this case, she shrieked such a shriek that her soul well nigh fled her body. Then she fell down in a fainting-fit and when she came to herself, she said to me, ‘What moved thee to do thus? Now Allah upon thee, send me after him!’ But I spoke her fair for a while and pledged myself to stand in the ape’s stead in the matter of much poking, till her trouble subsided and I took her to wife. But when I came to perform my promise I proved a failure and I fell short in this matter and could not endure such hard labour: so I complained of my case and mentioned her exorbitant requirements to a certain old woman who engaged to manage the affair and said to me, ‘Needs must thou bring me a cooking-pot full of virgin vinegar and a pound of the herb pellitory called wound-wort.’ 1 So I brought her what she sought, and she laid the pellitory in the pot with the vinegar and set it on the fire, till it was thoroughly boiled. Then she bade me futter the girl, and I futtered her till she fainted away, when the old woman took her up (and she unconscious), and set her parts to the mouth of the cooking-pot. The steam of the pot entered her slit and there fell from it somewhat which I examined; and behold, it was two small worms, one black and the other yellow. Quoth the old, woman, ‘The black was bred of the strokings of the negro and the yellow of stroking with the baboon.’ Now when she recovered from her swoon she abode with me, in all delight and solace of life, and sought not swiving as before, for Allah had done away from her this appetite; whereat I marvelled”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Easterns attribute many complaints (such as toothache) to worms, visible as well as microscopic, which may be held a fair prolepsis of the “germ-theory” the bacterium. the bacillus, the microbe. Nymphomania, the disease alluded to in these two tales is always attributed to worms in the vagina.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young man continued: “In truth Allah had done away from her this appetite; whereat I marvelled and acquainted her with the case. Thereupon I lived with her and she took the old woman to be to her in the stead of her mother.” “And” (said he who told me the tale) “the old woman and the young man and his wife abode in joy and cheer till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies; and glory be to the Ever-living One, who dieth not and in whose hand is Dominion of the world visible and invisible!”1 And another tale they tell is that of
1 Bestiality, very rare in Arabia is fatally common amongst those most debauched of debauched races, the Egyptian proper and the Sindis. Hence the Pentateuch, whose object was to breed a larger population of fighting men, made death the penalty for lying with a beast (Deut. xxvii. 21). C. S. Sonnini (Travels, English translation, p. 663) gives a curious account of Fellah lewdness. “The female crocodile during congress is turned upon her back (?) and cannot rise without difficulty. Will it be believed that there are men who take advantage of the helpless situation of the female, drive off the male, and supplant him in this frightful intercourse? Horrible embraces, the knowledge of which was wanting to complete the disgusting history of human perversity!” The French traveller forgets to add the superstitious explanation of this congress which is the sovereignest charm for rising to rank and riches. The Ajáib al-Hind tells a tale (chaps. xxxix.) of a certain Mohammed bin Bullishad who had issue by a she-ape: the young ones were hairless of body and wore quasi-human faces; and the father’s sight had become dim by his bestial-practice.
There was once in times of yore and ages long gone before, a great and puissant King, of the Kings of the Persians, Sábúr by name, who was the richest of all the Kings in store of wealth and dominion and surpassed each and every in wit and wisdom. He was generous, open handed and beneficent, and he gave to those who sought him and repelled not those who resorted to him; and he comforted the broken-hearted and honourably entreated those who fled to him for refuge. Moreover, he loved the poor and was hospitable to strangers and did the oppressed justice upon the oppressor. He had three daughters, like full moons of shining light or flower-gardens blooming bright; and a son as he were the moon; and it was his wont to keep two festivals in the twelve-month, those of the Nau–Roz, or New Year, and Mihrgán the Autumnal Equinox,2 on which occasions he threw open his palaces and gave largesse and made proclamation of safety and security and promoted his chamberlains and viceroys; and the people of his realm came in to him and saluted him and gave him joy of the holy day, bringing him gifts and servants and eunuchs. Now he loved science and geometry, and one festival-day as he sat on his kingly throne there came in to him three wise men, cunning artificers and past masters in all manner of craft and inventions, skilled in making things curious and rare, such as confound the wit; and versed in the knowledge of occult truths and perfect in mysteries and subtleties. And they were of three different tongues and countries, the first a Hindi or Indian,3 the second a Roumi or Greek and the third a Farsi or Persian. The Indian came forwards and, prostrating himself before the King, wished him joy of the festival and laid before him a present befitting his dignity; that is to say, a man of gold, set with precious gems and jewels of price and hending in hand a golden trumpet. When Sabur4 saw this, he asked, “O sage, what is the virtue of this figure?”; and the Indian answered, “O my lord, if this figure be set at the gate of thy city, it will be a guardian over it; for, in an enemy enter the place, it will blow this clarion against him and he will be seized with a palsy and drop down dead.” Much the King marvelled at this and cried, “By Allah, O sage, an this thy word be true, I will grant thee thy wish and thy desire.” Then came forward the Greek and, prostrating himself before the King, presented him with a basin of silver, in whose midst was a peacock of gold, surrounded by four-and-twenty chicks of the same metal. Sabur looked at them and turning to the Greek, said to him, “O sage, what is the virtue of this peacock?” “O my lord,” answered he, “as often as an hour of the day or night passeth, it pecketh one of its young and crieth out and flappeth its wings, till the four-and-twenty hours are accomplished; and when the month cometh to an end, it will open its mouth and thou shalt see the crescent therein.” And the King said, “An thou speak sooth, I will bring thee to thy wish and thy desire.” Then came forward the Persian sage and, prostrating himself before the King, presented him with a horse5 of the blackest ebony-wood inlaid with gold and jewels, and ready harnessed with saddle, bridle and stirrups such as befit Kings; which when Sabur saw, he marvelled with exceeding marvel and was confounded at the beauty of its form and the ingenuity of its fashion. So he asked, “What is the use of this horse of wood, and what is its virtue and what the secret of its movement?”; and the Persian answered, “O my lord, the virtue of this horse is that, if one mount him, it will carry him whither he will and fare with its rider through the air and cover the space of a year in a single day.” The King marvelled and was amazed at these three wonders, following thus hard upon one another on the same day, and turning to the sage, said to him, “By Allah the Omnipotent, and our Lord the Beneficent, who created all creatures and feedeth them with meat and drink, an thy speech be veritable and the virtue of thy contrivance appear, I will assuredly give thee whatsoever thou lustest for and will bring thee to thy desire and thy wish!”6 Then he entertained the sages three days, that he might make trial of their gifts; after which they brought the figures before him and each took the creature he had wroughten and showed him the mystery of its movement. The trumpeter blew the trump; the peacock pecked its chicks and the Persian sage mounted the ebony house, whereupon it soared with him high in air and descended again. When King Sabur saw all this, he was amazed and perplexed and felt like to fly for joy and said to the three sages, “Now I am certified of the truth of your words and it behoveth me to quit me of my promise. Ask ye, therefore, what ye will, and I will give you that same.” Now the report of the King’s daughters had reached the sages, so they answered, “If the King be content with us and accept of our gifts and allow us to prefer a request to him, we crave of him that he give us his three daughters in marriage, that we may be his sons-in-law; for that the stability of Kings may not be gainsaid.” Quoth the King, “I grant you that which you wish and you desire,” and bade summon the Kazi forthright, that he might marry each of the sages to one of his daughters. Now it fortuned that the Princesses were behind a curtain, looking on; and when they heard this, the youngest considered her husband to be and behold, he was an old man,7 an hundred years of age, with hair frosted, forehead drooping, eyebrows mangy, ears slitten, beard and mustachios stained and dyed; eyes red and goggle; cheeks bleached and hollow; flabby nose like a brinjall, or egg-plant8; face like a cobbler’s apron, teeth overlapping and lips like camel’s kidneys, loose and pendulous; in brief a terror, a horror, a monster, for he was of the folk of his time the unsightliest and of his age the frightfullest; sundry of his grinders had been knocked out and his eye-teeth were like the tusks of the Jinni who frighteneth poultry in hen-houses. Now the girl was the fairest and most graceful of her time, more elegant than the gazelle however tender, than the gentlest zephyr blander and brighter than the moon at her full; for amorous fray right suitable; confounding in graceful sway the waving bough and outdoing in swimming gait the pacing roe; in fine she was fairer and sweeter by far than all her sisters. So, when she saw her suitor, she went to her chamber and strewed dust on her head and tore her clothes and fell to buffeting her face and weeping and wailing. Now the Prince, her brother, Kamar al-Akmár, or the Moon of Moons hight, was then newly returned from a journey and, hearing her weeping and crying came in to her (for he loved her with fond affection, more than his other sisters) and asked her, “What aileth thee? What hath befallen thee? Tell me and conceal naught from me.” So she smote her breast and answered, “O my brother and my dear one, I have nothing to hide. If the palace be straitened upon thy father, I will go out; and if he be resolved upon a foul thing, I will separate myself from him, though he consent not to make provision for me; and my Lord will provide.” Quoth he, “Tell me what meaneth this talk and what hath straitened thy breast and troubled thy temper.” “O my brother and my dear one,” answered the Princess, “Know that my father hath promised me in marriage to a wicked magician who brought him, as a gift, a horse of black wood, and hath bewitched him with his craft and his egromancy; but, as for me, I will none of him, and would, because of him, I had never come into this world!” Her brother soothed her and solaced her, then fared to his sire and said, “What be this wizard to whom thou hast given my youngest sister in marriage, and what is this present which he hath brought thee, so that thou hast killed9 my sister with chagrin? It is not right that this should be.” Now the Persian was standing by and, when he heard the Prince’s words, he was mortified and filled with fury and the King said, “O my son, an thou sawest this horse, thy wit would be confounded and thou wouldst be amated with amazement.” Then he bade the slaves bring the horse before him and they did so; and, when the Prince saw it, it pleased him. So (being an accomplished cavalier) he mounted it forthright and struck its sides with the shovel-shaped stirrup-irons; but it stirred not and the King said to the Sage, “Go show him its movement, that he also may help thee to win thy wish.” Now the Persian bore the Prince a grudge because he willed not he should have his sister; so he showed him the pin of ascent on the right side of the horse and saying to him, “Trill this,” left him. Thereupon the Prince trilled the pin and lo! the horse forthwith soared with him high in ether, as it were a bird, and gave not overflying till it disappeared from men’s espying, whereat the King was troubled and perplexed about his case and said to the Persian, “O sage, look how thou mayest make him descend.” But he replied, “O my lord, I can do nothing, and thou wilt never see him again till Resurrection-day, for he, of his ignorance and pride, asked me not of the pin of descent and I forgot to acquaint him therewith.” When the King heard this, he was enraged with sore rage; and bade bastinado the sorcerer and clap him in jail, whilst he himself cast the crown from his head and beat his face and smote his breast. Moreover, he shut the doors of his palaces and gave himself up to weeping and keening, he and his wife and daughters and all the folk of the city; and thus their joy was turned to annoy and their gladness changed into sore affliction and sadness. Thus far concerning them; but as regards the Prince, the horse gave not over soaring with him till he drew near the sun, whereat he gave himself up for lost and saw death in the skies, and was confounded at his case, repenting him of having mounted the horse and saying to himself, “Verily, this was a device of the Sage to destroy me on account of my youngest sister; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! I am lost without recourse; but I wonder, did not he who made the ascent-pin make also a descent-pin?” Now he was a man of wit and knowledge and intelligence; so he fell to feeling all the parts of the horse, but saw nothing save a screw, like a cock’s head, on its right shoulder and the like on the left, when quoth he to himself, “I see no sign save these things like buttons.” Presently he turned the right-hand pin, whereupon the horse flew heavenwards with increased speed. So he left it and looking at the sinister shoulder and finding another pin, he wound it up and immediately the steed’s upwards motion slowed and ceased and it began to descend, little by little, towards the face of the earth, while the rider became yet more cautious and careful of his life. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This tale (one of those translated by Galland) is best and fullest in the Bresl. Edit. iii. 329.
2 Europe has degraded this autumnal festival, the Sun-fête Mihrgán (which balanced the vernal Nau-roz) into Michaelmas and its goose-massacre. It was so called because it began on the 16th of Mihr, the seventh month; and lasted six days, with feasts, festivities and great rejoicings in honour of the Sun, who now begins his southing-course to gladden the other half of the world.
3 “Hindí” is an Indian Moslem as opposed to “Hindú,” a pagan, or Gentoo.
4 The orig. Persian word is “Sháh-púr”=King’s son: the Greeks {Greek text} (who had no sh) (preferred ); the Romans turned it into Sapor and the Arabs (who lack the p) into Sábúr. See p. x. Hamzæ ispahanensis Annalium Libri x.: Gottwaldt, Lipsiæ mdcccxlviii.
5 The magic horse may have originated with the Hindu tale of a wooden Garuda (the bird of Vishnu) built by a youth for the purpose of a vehicle. It came with the “Moors” to Spain and appears in “Le Cheval de Fust,” a French poem of the thirteenth Century. Thence it passed over to England as shown by Chaucer’s “Half-told tale of Cambuscan (Janghíz Khan?) bold,” as
“The wondrous steed of brass
On which the Tartar King did ride;”
And Leland (Itinerary) derives “Rutlandshire” from “a man named Rutter who rode round it on a wooden horse constructed by art magic.” Lane (ii. 548) quotes the parallel story of Cleomades and Claremond which Mr. Keightley (Tales and Popular Fictions, chapt. ii) dates from our thirteenth century. See Vol. i., p. 160.
6 All Moslems, except those of the Máliki school, hold that the maker of an image representing anything of life will be commanded on the Judgment Day to animate it, and failing will be duly sent to the Fire. This severity arose apparently from the necessity of putting down idol-worship and, perhaps, for the same reason the Greek Church admits pictures but not statues. Of course the command has been honoured with extensive breaching: for instance all the Sultans of Stambul have had their portraits drawn and painted.
7 This description of ugly old age is written with true Arab verve.
8 Arab. “Badinján”: Hind. Bengan: Pers. Bádingán or Badilján; the Mala insana (Solanum pomiferum or S. Melongena) of the Romans, well known in Southern Europe. It is of two kinds, the red (Solanum lycopersicum) and the black (S. Melongena). The Spaniards know it as “berengeria” and when Sancho Panza (Part ii. chapt. 2) says, “The Moors are fond of egg-plants” he means more than appears. The vegetable is held to be exceedingly heating and thereby to breed melancholia and madness; hence one says to a man that has done something eccentric, “Thou hast been eating brinjalls.”
9 Again to be understood Hibernice “kilt.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Prince wound up the sinister screw, the steed’s upward motion slowed and ceased, and it began to descend, little by little, towards the earth while the rider became yet more cautious and careful of his life. And when he saw this and knew the uses of the horse, his heart was filled with joy and gladness and he thanked Almighty Allah for that He had deigned deliver him from destruction. Then he began to turn the horse’s head whithersoever he would, making it rise and fall at pleasure, till he had gotten complete mastery over its every movement. He ceased not to descend the whole of that day, for that the steed’s ascending flight had borne him afar from the earth; and, as he descended, he diverted himself with viewing the various cities and countries over which he passed and which he knew not, never having seen them in his life. Amongst the rest, he descried a city ordered after the fairest fashion in the midst of a verdant and riant land, rich in trees and streams, with gazelles pacing daintily over the plains; whereat he fell a-musing and said to himself, “Would I knew the name of yon town and in what land it is!” And he took to circling about it and observing it right and left. By this time, the day began to decline and the sun drew near to its downing; and he said in his mind, “Verily I find no goodlier place to night in than this city; so I will lodge here and early on the morrow I will return to my kith and kin and my kingdom; and tell my father and family what hath passed and acquaint him with what mine eyes have seen.” Then he addressed himself to seeking a place wherein he might safely bestow himself and his horse and where none should descry him, and presently behold, he espied a-middlemost of the city a palace rising high in upper air surrounded by a great wall with lofty crenelles and battlements, guarded by forty black slaves, clad in complete mail and armed with spears and swords, bows and arrows. Quoth he, “This is a goodly place,” and turned the descent-pin, whereupon the horse sank down with him like a weary bird, and alighted gently on the terrace-roof of the palace. So the Prince dismounted and ejaculating “Alhamdolillah”— praise be to Allah1 — he began to go round about the horse and examine it, saying, “By Allah, he who fashioned thee with these perfections was a cunning craftsman, and if the Almighty extend the term of my life and restore me to my country and kinsfolk in safety and reunite me with my father, I will assuredly bestow upon him all manner bounties and benefit him with the utmost beneficence.” By this time night had overtaken him and he sat on the roof till he was assured that all in the palace slept; and indeed hunger and thirst were sore upon him, for that he had not tasted food nor drunk water since he parted from his sire. So he said within himself, “Surely the like of this palace will not lack of victual;” and, leaving the horse above, went down in search of somewhat to eat. Presently, he came to a staircase and descending it to the bottom, found himself in a court paved with white marble and alabaster, which shone in the light of the moon. He marvelled at the place and the goodliness of its fashion, but sensed no sound of speaker and saw no living soul and stood in perplexed surprise, looking right and left and knowing not whither he should wend. Then said he to himself, “I may not do better than return to where I left my horse and pass the night by it; and as soon as day shall dawn I will mount and ride away.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. for fear of the evil eye injuring the palace and, haply, himself.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the king’s son to himself, “I may not do better than pass the night by my horse; and as soon as day shall dawn I will mount and ride away.” However, as he tarried talking to himself, he espied a light within the palace, and making towards it, found that it came from a candle that stood before a door of the Harim, at the head of a sleeping eunuch, as he were one of the Ifrits of Solomon or a tribesman of the Jinn, longer than lumber and broader than a bench. He lay before the door, with the pommel of his sword gleaming in the flame of the candle, and at his head was a bag of leather1 hanging from a column of granite. When the Prince saw this, he was affrighted and said, “I crave help from Allah the Supreme! O mine Holy One, even as Thou hast already delivered me from destruction, so vouchsafe me strength to quit myself of the adventure of this palace!” So saying, he put out his hand to the budget and taking it, carried it aside and opened it and found in it food of the best. He ate his fill and refreshed himself and drank water, after which he hung up the provision-bag in its place and drawing the eunuch’s sword from its sheath, took it, whilst the slave slept on, knowing not whence destiny should come to him. Then the Prince fared forwards into the palace and ceased not till he came to a second door, with a curtain drawn before it; so he raised the curtain and behold, on entering he saw a couch of the whitest ivory, inlaid with pearls and jacinths and jewels, and four slave-girls sleeping about it. He went up to the couch, to see what was thereon, and found a young lady lying asleep, chemised with her hair2 as she were the full moon rising3 over the Eastern horizon, with flower-white brow and shining hair-paring and cheeks like blood-red anemones and dainty moles thereon. He was amazed at her as she lay in her beauty and loveliness, her symmetry and grace, and he recked no more of death. So he went up to her, trembling in every nerve and, shuddering with pleasure, kissed her on the right cheek; whereupon she awoke forthright and opened her eyes, and seeing the Prince standing at her head, said to him, “Who art thou and whence comest thou?” Quoth he, “I am thy slave and thy lover.” Asked she, “And who brought thee hither?” and he answered, “My Lord and my fortune.” Then said Shams al-Nahár4 (for such was her name), “Haply thou art he who demanded me yesterday of my father in marriage and he rejected thee, pretending that thou wast foul of favour. By Allah, my sire lied in his throat when he spoke this thing, for thou art not other than beautiful.” Now the son of the King of Hind had sought her in marriage, but her father had rejected him, for that he was ugly and uncouth, and she thought the Prince was he. So, when she saw his beauty and grace (for indeed he was like the radiant moon) the syntheism5 of love gat hold of her heart as it were a flaming fire, and they fell to talk and converse. Suddenly, her waiting-women awoke and, seeing the Prince with their mistress, said to her, “Oh my lady, who is this with thee?” Quoth she, “I know not; I found him sitting by me, when I woke up: haply ’tis he who seeketh me in marriage of my sire.” Quoth they, “O my lady, by Allah the All–Father, this is not he who seeketh thee in marriage, for he is hideous and this man is handsome and of high degree. Indeed, the other is not fit to be his servant.”6 Then the handmaidens went out to the eunuch, and finding him slumbering awoke him, and he started up in alarm. Said they, “How happeth it that thou art on guard at the palace and yet men come in to us, whilst we are asleep?” When the black heard this, he sprang in haste to his sword, but found it not; and fear took him and trembling. Then he went in, confounded, to his mistress and seeing the Prince sitting at talk with her, said to him, “O my lord, art thou man or Jinni?” Replied the Prince, “Woe to thee, O unluckiest of slaves: how darest thou even the sons of the royal Chosroes7 with one of the unbelieving Satans?” And he was as a raging lion. Then he took the sword in his hand and said to the slave, “I am the King’s son-in-law, and he hath married me to his daughter and bidden me go in to her.” And when the eunuch heard these words he replied, “O my lord, if thou be indeed of kind a man as thou avouchest, she is fit for none but for thee, and thou art worthier of her than any other.” Thereupon the eunuch ran to the King, shrieking loud and rending his raiment and heaving dust upon his head; and when the King heard his outcry, he said to him, “What hath befallen thee?: speak quickly and be brief; for thou hast fluttered my heart.” Answered the eunuch, “O King, come to thy daughter’s succour; for a devil of the Jinn, in the likeness of a King’s son, hath got possession of her; so up and at him!” When the King heard this, he thought to kill him and said, “How camest thou to be careless of my daughter and let this demon come at her?” Then he betook himself to the Princess’s palace, where he found her slave-women standing to await him and asked them, “What is come to my daughter?” “O King,” answered they, “slumber overcame us and, when we awoke, we found a young man sitting upon her couch in talk with her, as he were the full moon; never saw we aught fairer of favour than he. So we questioned him of his case and he declared that thou hadst given him thy daughter in marriage. More than this we know not, nor do we know if he be a man or a Jinni; but he is modest and well bred, and doth nothing unseemly or which leadeth to disgrace.” Now when the King heard these words, his wrath cooled and he raised the curtain little by little and looking in, saw sitting at talk with his daughter a Prince of the goodliest with a face like the full moon for sheen. At this sight he could not contain himself, of his jealousy for his daughter’s honour; and, putting aside the curtain, rushed in upon them drawn sword in hand like a furious Ghul. Now when the Prince saw him he asked the Princess, “Is this thy sire?”; and she answered, “Yes.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The “Sufrah” before explained acting provision-bag and table-cloth.
2 Eastern women in hot weather, lie mother-nude under a sheet here represented by the hair. The Greeks and Romans also slept stripped and in mediæval England the most modest women saw nothing indelicate in sleeping naked by their naked husbands. The “night-cap” and the “night-gown” are comparatively modern inventions.
3 Hindu fable turns this simile into better poetry, “She was like a second and a more wondrous moon made by the Creator.”
4 “Sun of the Day.”
5 Arab. “Shirk”=worshipping more than one God. A theological term here most appropriately used.
6 The Bul. Edit. as usual abridges (vol. i. 534). The Prince lands on the palace-roof where he leaves his horse, and finding no one in the building goes back to the terrace. Suddenly he sees a beautiful girl approaching him with a party of her women, suggesting to him these couplets,
“She came without tryst in the darkest hour,
Like full moon lighting horizon’s night:
Slim-formed, there is not in the world her like
For grace of form or for gifts of sprite:
‘Praise him who made her from semen-drop,’
I cried, when her beauty first struck my sight:
I guard her from eyes, seeking refuge with
The Lord of mankind and of morning-light.”
The two then made acquaintance and “follows what follows.”
7 Arab. “Akásirah,” explained (vol. i., 75) as the plur. of Kisrá.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Price saw the King rushing in upon them, drawn sword in hand, like a furious Ghul he asked the Princess, “Is this thy sire?”; and she answered, “Yes.” Whereupon he sprang to his feet and, seizing his sword, cried out at the King with so terrible a cry that he was confounded. Then the youth would have fallen on him with the sword; but the King seeing that the Prince was doughtier than he, sheathed his scymitar and stood till the young man came up to him, when he accosted him courteously and said to him, “O youth, art thou a man or a Jinni?” Quoth the Prince, “Did I not respect thy right as mine host and thy daughter’s honour, I would spill thy blood! How darest thou fellow me with devils, me that am a Prince of the sons of the royal Chosroes who, had they wished to take thy kingdom, could shake thee like an earthquake from thy glory and thy dominions and spoil thee of all thy possessions?” Now when the King heard his words, he was confounded with awe and bodily fear of him and rejoined, “If thou indeed be of the sons of the Kings, as thou pretendest, how cometh it that thou enterest my palace without my permission, and smirchest mine honour, making thy way to my daughter and feigning that thou art her husband and claiming that I have given her to thee to wife, I that have slain Kings and Kings’ sons, who sought her of me in marriage? And now who shall save thee from my might and majesty when, if I cried out to my slaves and servants and bade them put thee to the vilest of deaths they would slay thee forthright? Who shall deliver thee out of my hand?” When the Prince heard this speech of the King he answered, “Verily, I wonder at thee and at the shortness and denseness of thy wit! Say me, canst covet for thy daughter a mate comelier than myself, and hast ever seen a stouter hearted man or one better fitted for a Sultan or a more glorious in rank and dominion than I?” Rejoined the King, “Nay, by Allah! but I would have had thee, O youth, act after the custom of Kings and demand her from me to wife before witnesses, that I might have married her to thee publicly; and now, even were I to marry her to thee privily, yet hast thou dishonoured me in her person.” Rejoined the Prince, “Thou sayest sooth, O King, but if thou summon thy slaves and thy soldiers and they fall upon me and slay me, as thou pretendest, thou wouldst but publish thine own disgrace, and the folk would be divided between belief in thee and disbelief in thee. Wherefore, O King, thou wilt do well, meseemeth, to turn from this thought to that which I shall counsel thee.” Quoth the King, “Let me hear what thou hast to advise;” and quoth the Prince, “What I have to propose to thee is this: either do thou meet me in combat singular, I and thou; and he who slayeth his adversary shall be held the worthier and having a better title to the kingdom; or else, let me be this night and, whenas dawns the morn, draw out against me thy horsemen and footmen and servants; but first tell me their number.” Said the King, “They are forty thousand horse, beside my own slaves and their followers,1 who are the like of them in number.” Thereupon said the Prince, “When the day shall break, do thou array them against me and say to them”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The dearest ambition of a slave is not liberty but to have a slave of his own. This was systematised by the servile rulers known in history as the Mameluke Beys and to the Egyptians as the Ghuzz. Each had his household of servile pages and squires, who looked forward to filling the master’s place as knight or baron.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the Prince, “When day shall break, do thou array them against me and say to them: ‘This man is a suitor to me for my daughter’s hand, on condition that he shall do battle single-handed against you all; for he pretendeth that he will overcome you and put you to the rout, and indeed that ye cannot prevail against him.’ After which, leave me to do battle with them: if they slay me, then is thy secret surer guarded and thine honour the better warded; and if I overcome them and see their backs, then is it the like of me a King should covet to his son-in-law.” So the King approved of his opinion and accepted his proposition, despite his awe at the boldness of his speech and amaze at the pretensions of the Prince to meet in fight his whole host, such as he had described to him, being at heart assured that he would perish in the fray and so he should be quit of him and freed from the fear of dishonour. Thereupon he called the eunuch and bade him go to his Wazir without stay and delay and command him to assemble the whole of the army and cause them don their arms and armour and mount their steeds. So the eunuch carried the King’s order to the Minister, who straightaway summoned the Captains of the host and the Lords of the realm and bade them don their harness of derring-do and mount horse and sally forth in battle array. Such was their case; but as regards the King, he sat a long while conversing with the young Prince, being pleased with his wise speech and good sense and fine breeding. And when it was day-break he returned to his palace and, seating himself on his throne, commanded his merry men to mount and bade them saddle one of the best of the royal steeds with handsome selle and housings and trappings and bring it to the Prince. But the youth said, “O King, I will not mount horse, till I come in view of the troops and review them.” “Be it as thou wilt,” replied the King. Then the two repaired to the parade-ground, where the troops were drawn up, and the young Prince looked upon them and noted their great number; after which the King cried out to them, saying, “Ho, all ye men, there is come to me a youth who seeketh my daughter in marriage; and in very sooth never have I seen a goodlier than he; no, nor a stouter of heart nor a doughtier of arm, for he pretendeth that he can overcome you, single-handed, and force you to flight and that, were ye an hundred thousand in number, yet for him would ye be but few. Now when he chargeth down on you, do ye receive him upon point of pike and sharp of sabre; for, indeed, he hath undertaken a mighty matter.” Then quoth the King to the Prince, “Up, O my son, and do thy devoir on them.” Answered he, “O King, thou dealest not justly and fairly by me: how shall I go forth against them, seeing that I am afoot and the men be mounted?” The King retorted, “I bade thee mount, and thou refusedst; but choose thou which of my horses thou wilt.” Then he said, “Not one of thy horses pleaseth me, and I will ride none but that on which I came.” Asked the King, “And where is thy horse?” “Atop of thy palace.” “In what part of my palace?” “On the roof.” Now when the King heard these words, he cried, “Out on thee! this is the first sign thou hast given of madness. How can the horse be on the roof? But we shall at once see if thou speak the truth or lies.” Then he turned to one of his chief officers and said to him, “Go to my palace and bring me what thou findest on the roof.” So all the people marvelled at the young Prince’s words, saying one to other, “How can a horse come down the steps from the roof? Verily this is a thing whose like we never heard.” In the meantime the King’s messenger repaired to the palace and mounting to the roof, found the horse standing there and never had he looked on a handsomer; but when he drew near and examined it, he saw that it was made of ebony and ivory. Now the officer was accompanied by other high officers, who also looked on and they laughed to one another, saying, “Was it of the like of this horse that the youth spake? We cannot deem him other than mad; however, we shall soon see the truth of his case.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the high officials looked upon the horse, they laughed one to other and said, “Was it of the like of his horse that the youth spake? We cannot deem him other than mad; however, we shall soon see the truth of his case. Peradventure herein is some mighty matter, and he is a man of high degree.” Then they lifted up the horse bodily and, carrying it to the King, set it down before him, and all the lieges flocked round to look at it, marvelling at the beauty of its proportions and the richness of its saddle and bridle. The King also admired it and wondered at it with extreme wonder; and he asked the Prince, “O youth, is this thy horse?” He answered, “Yes, O King, this is my horse, and thou shalt soon see the marvel it showeth.” Rejoined the King, “Then take and mount it,” and the Prince retorted, “I will not mount till the troops withdraw afar from it.” So the King bade them retire a bowshot from the horse; whereupon quoth its owner, “O King, see thou; I am about to mount my horse and charge upon thy host and scatter them right and left and split their hearts asunder.” Said the King, “Do as thou wilt; and spare not their lives, for they will not spare thine.” Then the Prince mounted, whilst the troops ranged themselves in ranks before him, and one said to another, “When the youth cometh between the ranks, we will take him on the points of our pikes and the sharps of our sabres.” Quoth another, “By Allah, this a mere misfortune: how shall we slay a youth so comely of face and shapely of form?” And a third continued, “Ye will have hard work to get the better of him; for the youth had not done this, but for what he knew of his own prowess and pre-eminence of valour.” Meanwhile, having settled himself in his saddle, the Prince turned the pin of ascent; whilst all eyes were strained to see what he would do, whereupon the horse began to heave and rock and sway to and fro and make the strangest of movements steed ever made, till its belly was filled with air and it took flight with its rider and soared high into the sky. When the King saw this, he cried out to his men, saying, “Woe to you! catch him, catch him, ere he ’scape you!” But his Wazirs and Viceroys said to him, “O King, can a man overtake the flying bird? This is surely none but some mighty magician or Marid of the Jinn or devil, and Allah save thee from him. So praise thou the Almighty for deliverance of thee and of all thy host from his hand.” Then the King returned to his palace after seeing the feat of the Prince and, going in to his daughter, acquainted her with what had befallen them both on the parade-ground. He found her grievously afflicted for the Prince and bewailing her separation from him; wherefore she fell sick with violent sickness and took to her pillow. Now when her father saw her on this wise, he pressed her to his breast and kissing her between the eyes, said to her, “O my daughter, praise Allah Almighty and thank Him for that He hath delivered us from this crafty enchanter, this villain, this low fellow, this thief who thought only of seducing thee!” And he repeated to her the story of the Prince and how he had disappeared in the firmament; and he abused him and cursed him knowing not how dearly his daughter loved him. But she paid no heed to his words and did but redouble in her tears and wails, saying to herself, “By Allah, I will neither eat meat nor drain drink, till Allah reunite me with him!” Her father was greatly concerned for her case and mourned much over her plight; but, for all he could do to soother her, love-longing only increased on her. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King mourned much over his daughter’s plight but, for all he could do to soothe her, love-longing only increased on her. Thus far concerning the King and Princess Shams al-Nahár; but as regards Prince Kamar al-Akmar, when he had risen high in air, he turned his horse’s head towards his native land, and being alone mused upon the beauty of the Princess and her loveliness. Now he had enquired of the King’s people the name of the city and of its King and his daughter; and men had told him that it was the city of Sana’á.1 So he journeyed with all speed, till he drew near his father’s capital and, making an airy circuit about the city, alighted on the roof of the King’s palace, where he left his horse, whilst he descended into the palace and seeing its threshold strewn with ashes, though that one of his family was dead. Then he entered, as of wont, and found his father and mother and sisters clad in mourning raiment of black, all pale of faces and lean of frames. When his sire descried him and was assured that it was indeed his son, he cried out with a great cry and fell down in a fit, but after a time coming to himself, threw himself upon him and embraced him, clipping him to his bosom and rejoicing in him with exceeding joy and extreme gladness. His mother and sisters heard this; so they came in and seeing the Prince, fell upon him, kissing him and weeping, and joying with exceeding joyance. Then they questioned him of his case; so he told them all that had passed from first to last, and his father said to him, “Praised be Allah for thy safety, O coolth of my eyes and core of my heart!” Then the King bade hold high festival, and the glad tidings flew through the city. So they beat drums and cymbals and, doffing the weed of mourning, they donned the gay garb of gladness and decorated the streets and markets; whilst the folk vied with one another who should be the first to give the King joy, and the King proclaimed a general pardon and opening the prisons, released those who were therein prisoned. Moreover, he made banquets for the people, with great abundance of eating and drinking, for seven days and nights and all creatures were gladsomest; and he took horse with his son and rode out with him, that the folk might see him and rejoice. After awhile the Prince asked about the maker of the horse, saying, “O my father, what hath fortune done with him?”; and the King answered, “Allah never bless him nor the hour wherein I set eyes on him! For he was the cause of thy separation from us, O my son, and he hath lain in gaol since the day of thy disappearance.” Then the King bade release him from prison and, sending for him, invested him in a dress of satisfaction and entreated him with the utmost favour and munificence, save that he would not give him his daughter to wife; whereat the Sage raged with sore rage and repented of that which he had done, knowing that the Prince had secured the secret of the steed and the manner of its motion. Moreover, the King said to his son, “I reck thou wilt do will not to go near the horse henceforth and more especially not to mount it after this day; for thou knowest not its properties, and belike thou art in error about it.” Not the Prince had told his father of his adventure with the King of Sana’a and his daughter and he said, “Had the King intended to kill thee, he had done so; but thine hour was not yet come.” When the rejoicings were at an end, the people returned to their places and the King and his son to the palace, where they sat down and fell to eating and drinking and making merry. Now the King had a handsome handmaiden who was skilled in playing the lute; so she took it and began to sweep the strings and sing thereto before the King and his son of separation of lovers, and she chanted the following verses:—
“Deem not that absence breeds in me aught of forgetfulness;
What should remember I did you fro’ my remembrance wane?
Time dies but never dies the fondest love for you we bear;
And in your love I’ll die and in your love I’ll arise again.”2
When the Prince heard these verses, the fires of longing flamed up in his heart and pine and passion redoubled upon him. Grief and regret were sore upon him and his bowels yearned in him for love of the King’s daughter of Sana’a; so he rose forthright and, escaping his father’s notice, went forth the palace to the horse and mounting it, turned the pin of ascent, whereupon bird-like it flew with him high in air and soared towards the upper regions of the sky. In early morning his father missed him and, going up to the pinnacle of the palace, in great concern, saw his son rising into the firmament; whereat he was sore afflicted and repented in all penitence that he had not taken the horse and hidden it; and he said to himself, “By Allah, if but my son return to me, I will destroy the horse, that my heart may be at rest concerning my son.” And he fell again to weeping and bewailing himself. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The well-known capital of Al–Yaman, a true Arabia Felix, a Paradise inhabited by demons in the shape of Turkish soldiery and Arab caterans. According to Moslem writers Sana’a was founded by Shem son of Noah who, wandering southward with his posterity after his father’s death, and finding the site delightful, dug a well and founded the citadel, Ghamdán, which afterwards contained a Mason Carrée rivalling (or attempting to rival) the Meccan Ka’abah. The builder was Surahbíl who, says M.C. de Perceval coloured its four faces red, white, golden and green; the central quadrangle had seven stories (the planets) each forty cubits high, and the lowest was a marble hall ceiling’d with a single slab. At the four corners stood hollow lions through whose mouths the winds roared. This palatial citadel-temple was destroyed by order of Caliph Omar. The city’s ancient name was Azal or Uzal whom some identify with one of the thirteen sons of Joktan (Genesis xi. 27): it took its present name from the Ethiopian conquerors (they say) who, seeing it for the first time, cried “Hazá Sana’ah!” meaning in their tongue, this is commodious, etc. I may note that the word is Kisawahili (Zanzibarian) e.g. “Yámbo sáná— is the state good?” Sana’a was the capital of the Tabábi’ah or Tobba Kings who judaized; and the Abyssinians with their Negush made it Christian while the Persians under Anushirwán converted it to Guebrism. It is now easily visited but to little purpose; excursions in the neighborhood being deadly dangerous. Moreover the Turkish garrison would probably murder a stranger who sympathised with the Arabs, and the Arabs kill one who took part with their hated and hateful conquerors. The late Mr. Shapira of Jerusalem declared that he had visited it and Jews have great advantages in such travel. But his friends doubted him.
2 The Bresl. Edit. (iii. 347) prints three vile errors in four lines.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King again fell to weeping and bewailing himself for his son. Such was his case; but as regards the Prince, he ceased not flying on through air till he came to the city of Sana’a and alighted on the roof as before. Then he crept down stealthily and, finding the eunuch asleep, as of wont, raised the curtain and went on little by little, till he came to the door of the Princess’s alcove-1chamber and stopped to listen; when lo! he heard her shedding plenteous tears and reciting verses, whilst her women slept round her. Presently, overhearing her weeping and wailing quoth they, “O our mistress, why wilt thou mourn for one who mourneth not for thee?” Quoth she, “O ye little of wit, is he for whom I mourn of those who forget or who are forgotten?” And she fell again to wailing and weeping, till sleep overcame her. Hereat the Prince’s heart melted for her and his gall-bladder was like to burst, so he entered and, seeing her lying asleep without covering,2 touched her with his hand; whereupon she opened her eyes and espied him standing by her. Said he, “Why all this crying and mourning?” And when she knew him, she threw herself upon him, and took him around the neck and kissed him and answered, “For thy sake and because of my separation from thee.” Said he, “O my lady, I have been made desolate by thee all this long time!” But she replied, “’Tis thou who hast desolated me; and hadst thou tarried longer, I had surely died!” Rejoined he, “O my lady, what thinkest thou of my case with thy father and how he dealt with me? Were it not for my love of thee, O temptation and seduction of the Three Worlds, I had certainly slain him and made him a warning to all beholders; but, even as I love thee, so I love him for thy sake.” Quoth she, “How couldst thou leave me: can my life be sweet to me after thee?” Quoth he, “Let what hath happened suffice: I am now hungry, and thirsty.” So she bade her maidens make ready meat and drink, and they sat eating and drinking and conversing till night was well nigh ended; and when day broke he rose to take leave of her and depart, ere the eunuch should awake. Shams al-Nahar asked him, “Whither goest thou?”; and he answered, “To my father’s house, and I plight thee my troth that I will come to thee once in every week.” But she wept and said, “I conjure thee, by Allah the Almighty, take me with thee whereso thou wendest and make me not taste anew the bittergourd3 of separation from thee.” Quoth he, “Wilt thou indeed go with me?” and quoth she, “Yes.” “Then,” said he, “arise that we depart.” So she rose forthright and going to a chest, arrayed herself in what was richest and dearest to her of her trinkets of gold and jewels of price, and she fared forth, her handmaids recking naught. So he carried her up to the roof of the palace and, mounting the ebony horse, took her up behind him and made her fast to himself, binding her with strong bonds; after which he turned the shoulder-pin of ascent, and the horse rose with him high in air. When her slave-women saw this, they shrieked aloud and told her father and mother, who in hot haste ran to the palace-roof and looking up, saw the magical horse flying away with the Prince and Princess. At this the King was troubled with ever-increasing trouble and cried out, saying, “O King’s son, I conjure thee, by Allah, have ruth on me and my wife and bereave us not of our daughter!” The Prince made him no reply; but, thinking in himself that the maiden repented of leaving father and mother, asked her, “O ravishment of the age, say me, wilt thou that I restore thee to thy mother and father?”: whereupon she answered, “By Allah, O my lord, that is not my desire: my only wish is to be with thee, wherever thou art; for I am distracted by the love of thee from all else, even from my father and mother.” Hearing these words the Prince joyed with great joy, and made the horse fly and fare softly with them, so as not to disquiet her; nor did they stay their flight till they came in sight of a green meadow, wherein was a spring of running water. Here they alighted and ate and drank; after which the Prince took horse again and set her behind him, binding her in his fear for her safety; after which they fared on till they came in sight of his father’s capital. At this, the Prince was filled with joy and bethought himself to show his beloved the seat of his dominion and his father’s power and dignity and give her to know that it was greater than that of her sire. So he set her down in one of his father’s gardens without the city where his parent was wont to take his pleasure; and, carrying her into a domed summer-house prepared there for the King, left the ebony horse at the door and charged the damsel keep watch over it, saying, “Sit here, till my messenger come to thee; for I go now to my father, to make ready a palace for thee and show thee my royal estate.” She was delighted when she heard these words and said to him, “Do as thou wilt;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Alcove is a corruption of the Arab. Al–Kubbah (the dome) through Span. and Port.
2 Easterns as a rule sleep with head and body covered by a sheet or in cold weather a blanket. The practice is doubtless hygienic, defending the body from draughts when the pores are open; but Europeans find it hard to adopt; it seems to stop their breathing. Another excellent practice in the East, and indeed amongst barbarians and savages generally, is training children to sleep with mouths shut: in after life they never snore and in malarious lands they do not require Outram’s “fever-guard,” a swathe of muslin over the mouth. Mr. Catlin thought so highly of the “shut mouth” that he made it the subject of a book.
3 Arab. “Hanzal”=coloquintida, an article often mentioned by Arabs in verse and prose; the bright coloured little gourd attracts every eye by its golden glance when travelling through the brown-yellow waste of sand and clay. A favourite purgative (enough for a horse) is made by filling the inside with sour milk which is drunks after a night’s soaking: it is as active as the croton-nut of the Gold Coast.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the maiden was delighted when she heard these words and said to him, “Do as thou wilt;” for she thereby understood that she should not enter the city but with due honour and worship, as became her rank. Then the Prince left her and betook himself to the palace of the King his father, who rejoiced in his return and met him and welcomed him; and the Prince said to him, “Know that I have brought with me the King’s daughter of whom I told thee; and have left her without the city in such a garden and come to tell thee, that thou mayst make ready the procession of estate and go forth to meet her and show her thy royal dignity and troops and guards.” Answered the King, “With joy and gladness”; and straightaway bade decorate the town with the goodliest adornment. Then he took horse and rode out in all magnificence and majesty, he and his host, high officers and household, with drums and kettle-drums, fifes and clarions and all manner instruments; whilst the Prince drew forth of his treasuries jewellery and apparel and what else of the things which Kings hoards and made a rare display of wealth and splendour: moreover he got ready for the Princess a canopied litter of brocades, green, red and yellow, wherein he set Indian and Greek and Abyssinian slave-girls. Then he left the litter and those who were therein and preceded them to the pavilion where he had set her down; and searched but found naught, neither Princess nor horse. When he saw this, he beat his face, and rent his raiment and began to wander round about the garden, as he had lost his wits; after which he came to his senses and said to himself, “How could she have come at the secret of this horse, seeing I told her nothing of it? Maybe the Persian sage who made the horse hath chanced upon her and stolen her away, in revenge for my father’s treatment of him.” Then he sought the guardians of the garden and asked them if they had seen any pass the precincts; and said, “Hath any one come in here? Tell me the truth and the whole truth or I will at once strike off your heads.” They were terrified by his threats; but they answered with one voice, “We have seen no man enter save the Persian sage, who came to gather healing herbs.” So the Prince was certified that it was indeed he that had taken away the maiden — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Prince heard their answer, he was certified that the Sage had taken away the maiden and abode confounded and perplexed concerning his case. And he was abashed before the folk and, turning to his sire, told him what had happened and said to him, “Take the troops and march them back to the city. As for me, I will never return till I have cleared up this affair.” When the King heard this, he wept and beat his breast and said to him, “O my son, calm thy choler and master thy chagrin and come home with us and look what King’s daughter thou wouldst fain have, that I may marry thee to her.” But the Prince paid no heed to his words and farewelling him departed, whilst the King returned to the city and their joy was changed into sore annoy. Now, as Destiny issued her decree, when the Prince left the Princess in the garden-house and betook himself to his father’s palace, for the ordering of his affair, the Persian entered the garden to pluck certain simples and, scenting the sweet savour of musk and perfumes that exhaled from the Princess and impregnated the whole place, followed it till he came to the pavilion and saw standing at the door the horse which he had made with his own hands. His heart was filled with joy and gladness, for he had bemourned its loss much since it had gone out of his hand: so he went up to it and, examining its every part, found it whole and sound; whereupon he was about to mount and ride away, when he bethought himself and said, “Needs must I first look what the Prince hath brought and left here with the horse.” So he entered the pavilion and, seeing the Princess sitting there, as she were the sun shining sheen in the sky serene, knew her at the first glance to be some high-born lady and doubted not but the Prince had brought her thither on the horse and left her in the pavilion, whilst he went to the city, to make ready for her entry in state procession with all splendor. Then he went up to her and kissed the earth between her hands, whereupon she raised her eyes to him and, finding him exceedingly foul of face and favour, asked, “Who art thou?”; and he answered, “O my lady, I am a messenger sent by the Prince who hath bidden me bring thee to another pleasance nearer the city; for that my lady the Queen cannot walk so far and is unwilling, of her joy in thee, that another should forestall her with thee.” Quoth she, “Where is the Prince?”; and quoth the Persian, “He is in the city, with his sire and forthwith he shall come for thee in great state.” Said she, “O thou! say me, could he find none handsomer to send to me?”; whereat loud laughed the Sage and said, “Yea verily, he hath not a Mameluke as ugly as I am; but, O my lady, let not the ill-favour of my face and the foulness of my form deceive thee. Hadst thou profited of me as hath the Prince, verily thou wouldst praise my affair. Indeed, he chose me as his messenger to thee, because of my uncomeliness and loathsomeness in his jealous love of thee; else hath he Mamelukes and negro slaves, pages, eunuchs and attendants out of number, each goodlier than other.” Whenas she heard this, it commended itself to her reason and she believed him; so she rose forthright; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Persian sage acquainted the Princess with the case of the King’s son, she believed him; so she rose forthright; and, putting her hand in his, said, “O my father, what hast thou brought me to ride?” He replied, “O my lady, thou shalt ride the horse thou camest on;” and she, “I cannot ride it by myself.” Whereupon he smiled and knew that he was her master and said, “I will ride with thee myself.” So he mounted and, taking her up behind him bound her to himself with firm bonds, while she knew not what he would with her. Then he turned the ascent-pin, whereupon the belly of the horse became full of wind and it swayed to and fro like a wave of the sea, and rose with them high in air nor slackened in its flight, till it was out of sight of the city. Now when Shams al-Nahir saw this, she asked him, “Ho thou! what is become of that thou toldest me of my Prince, making me believe that he sent thee to me?” Answered the Persian, “Allah damn the Prince! he is a mean and skin-flint knave.” She cried, “Woe to thee! How darest thou disobey thy lord’s commandment?” Whereto the Persian replied, “He is no lord of mine: knowest thou who I am?” Rejoined the Princess, “I know nothing of thee save what thou toldest me;” and retorted he, “What I told thee was a trick of mine against thee and the King’s son: I have long lamented the loss of this horse which is under us; for I constructed it and made myself master of it. But now I have gotten firm hold of it and of thee too, and I will burn his heart even as he hath burnt mine; nor shall he ever have the horse again; no, never! So be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear; for I can be of more use to thee than he; and I am generous as I am wealthy; my servants and slaves shall obey thee as their mistress; I will robe thee in finest raiment and thine every wish shall be at thy will.” When she heard this, she buffeted her face and cried out, saying, “Ah, well-away! I have not won my beloved and I have lost my father and mother!” And she wept bitter tears over what had befallen her, whilst the Sage fared on with her, without ceasing, till he came to the land of the Greeks1 and alighted in a verdant mead, abounding in streams and trees. Now this meadow lay near a city wherein was a King of high puissance, and it chanced that he went forth that day to hunt and divert himself. As he passed by the meadow, he saw the Persian standing there, with the damsel and the horse by his side; and, before the Sage was ware, the King’s slaves fell upon him and carried him and the lady and the horse to their master who, noting the foulness of the man’s favour and his loathsomeness and the beauty of the girl and her loveliness, said, “O my lady, what kin is this oldster to thee?” The Persian made haste to reply, saying, “She is my wife and the daughter of my father’s brother.” But the lady at once gave him the lie and said, “O King, by Allah, I know him not, nor is he my husband; nay, he is a wicked magician who hath stolen me away by force and fraud.” Thereupon the King bade bastinado the Persian and they beat him till he was well-nigh dead; after which the King commanded to carry him to the city and cast him into jail; and, taking from him the damsel and the ebony horse (though he knew not its properties nor the secret of its motion), set the girl in his serraglio and the horse amongst his hoards. Such was the case with the Sage and the lady; but as regards Prince Kamar al-Akmar, he garbed himself in travelling gear and taking what he needed of money, set out tracking their trail in very sorry plight; and journeyed from country to country and city to city seeking the Princess and enquiring after the ebony horse, whilst all who heard him marvelled at him and deemed his talk extravagant. Thus he continued doing a long while; but, for all his enquiry and quest, he could hit on no new news of her. At last he came to her father’s city of Sana’a and there asked for her, but could get no tidings of her and found her father mourning her loss. So he turned back and made for the land of the Greeks, continuing to enquire concerning the twain as he went — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Bresl. Edit. iii. 354 sends him to the “land of Sín” (China).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King’s son made for the land of the Greeks, continuing to enquire concerning the two as he went along, till, as chance would have it, he alighted at a certain Khan and saw a company of merchants sitting at talk. So he sat down near them and heard one say, “O my friends, I lately witnessed a wonder of wonders.” They asked, “What was that?” and he answered, “I was visiting such a district in such a city (naming the city wherein was the Princess), and I heard its people chatting of a strange thing which had lately befallen. It was that their King went out one day hunting and coursing with a company of his courtiers and the lords of his realm; and, issuing from the city, they came to a green meadow where they espied an old man standing, with a woman sitting hard by a horse of ebony. The man was foulest-foul of face and loathly of form, but the woman was a marvel of beauty and loveliness and elegance and perfect grace; and as for the wooden horse, it was a miracle, never saw eyes aught goodlier than it nor more gracious than its make.” Asked the others, “And what did the King with them?”; and the merchant answered, “As for the man the King seized him and questioned him of the damsel and he pretended that she was his wife and the daughter of his paternal uncle; but she gave him the lie forthright and declared that he was a sorcerer and a villain. So the King took her from the old man and bade beat him and cast him into the trunk-house. As for the ebony horse, I know not what became of it.” When the Prince heard these words, he drew near to the merchant and began questioning him discreetly and courteously touching the name of the city and of its King; which when he knew, he passed the night full of joy. And as soon as dawned the day he set out and travelled sans surcease till he reached that city; but, when he would have entered, the gate-keepers laid hands on him, that they might bring him before the King to question him of his condition and the craft in which he was skilled and the cause of his coming thither-such being the usage and custom of their ruler. Now it was supper-time when he entered the city, and it was then impossible to go in to the King or take counsel with him respecting the stranger. So the guards carried him to the jail, thinking to lay him by the heels there for the night; but, when the warders saw his beauty and loveliness, they could not find it in their hearts to imprison him: they made him sit with them without the walls; and, when food came to them, he ate with them what sufficed him. As soon as they had made an end of eating, they turned to the Prince and said, “What countryman art thou?” “I come from Fars,” answered he, “the land of the Chosroës.” When they heard this they laughed and one of them said, “O Chosroan,1 I have heard the talk of men and their histories and I have looked into their conditions; but never saw I or heard I a bigger liar than the Chosroan which is with us in the jail.” Quoth another, “And never did I see aught fouler than his favour or more hideous than his visnomy.” Asked the Prince. “What have ye seen of his lying?”; and they answered, “He pretendeth that he is one of the wise! Now the King came upon him, as he went a-hunting, and found with him a most beautiful woman and a horse of the blackest ebony, never saw I a handsomer. As for the damsel, she is with the King, who is enamoured of her and would fain marry her; but she is mad, and were this man a leach as he claimeth to be, he would have healed her, for the King doth his utmost to discover a cure for her case and a remedy for her disease, and this whole year past hath he spent treasure upon physicians and astrologers, on her account; but none can avail to cure her. As for the horse, it is in the royal hoard-house, and the ugly man is here with us in prison; and as soon as night falleth, he weepeth and bemoaneth himself and will not let us sleep.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Yá Kisrawi!”=O subject of the Kisrá or Chosroë; the latter explained in vol.i.,75.[Volume 1, Footnote # 128] “Fars” is the origin of “Persia”; and there is a hit at the prodigious lying of the modern race, whose forefathers were so famous as truth-tellers. “I am a Persian, but I am not lying now,” is a phrase familiar to every traveller.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the warders had recounted the case of the Persian egromancer they held in prison and his weeping and wailing, the Prince at once devised a device whereby he might compass his desire; and presently the guards of the gate, being minded to sleep, led him into the jail and locked the door. So he overheard the Persian weeping and bemoaning himself, in his own tongue, and saying, “Alack, and alas for my sin, that I sinned against myself and against the King’s son, in that which I did with the damsel; for I neither left her nor won my will of her! All this cometh of my lack of sense, in that I sought for myself that which I deserved not and which befitted not the like of me; for whoso seeketh what suiteth him not at all, falleth with the like of my fall.” Now when the King’s son heard this, he accosted him in Persian, saying, “How long will this weeping and wailing last? Say me, thinkest thou that hath befallen thee that which never befel other than thou?” Now when the Persian heard this, he made friends with him and began to complain to him of his case and misfortunes. And as soon as the morning morrowed, the warders took the Prince and carried him before their King, informing him that he had entered the city on the previous night, at a time when audience was impossible. Quoth the King to the Prince, “Whence comest thou and what is thy name and trade and why hast thou travelled hither?” He replied, “As to my name I am called in Persian Harjah;1 as to my country I come from the land of Fars; and I am of the men of art and especially of the art of medicine and healing the sick and those whom the Jinns drive mad. For this I go round about all countries and cities, to profit by adding knowledge to my knowledge, and whenever I see a patient I heal him and this is my craft.”2 Now when the King heard this, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and said, “O excellent Sage, thou hast indeed come to us at a time when we need thee.” Then he acquainted him with the case of the Princess, adding, “If thou cure her and recover her from her madness, thou shalt have of me everything thou seekest.” Replied the Prince, “Allah save and favour the King: describe to me all thou hast seen of her insanity and tell me how long it is since the access attacked her; also how thou camest by her and the horse and the Sage.” So the King told him the whole story, from first to last, adding, “The Sage is in goal.” Quoth the Prince, “O auspicious King, and what hast thou done with the horse?” Quoth the King, “O youth, it is with me yet, laid up in one of my treasure-chambers,” whereupon said the Prince within himself, “The best thing I can do is first to see the horse and assure myself of its condition. If it be whole and sound, all will be well and end well; but, if its motor-works be destroyed, I must find some other way of delivering my beloved.” Thereupon he turned to the King and said to him, “O King, I must see the horse in question: haply I may find in it somewhat that will serve me for the recovery of the damsel.” “With all my heart,” replied the King, and taking him by the hand, showed him into the place where the horse was. The Prince went round about it, examining its condition, and found it whole and sound, whereat he rejoiced greatly and said to the King, “Allah save and exalt the King! I would fain go in to the damsel, that I may see how it is with her; for I hope in Allah to heal her by my healing hand through means of the horse.” Then he bade them take care of the horse and the King carried him to the Princess’s apartment where her lover found her wringing her hands and writhing and beating herself against the ground, and tearing her garments to tatters as was her wont; but there was no madness of Jinn in her, and she did this but that none might approach her. When the Prince saw her thus, he said to her, “No harm shall betide thee, O ravishment of the three worlds;” and went on to soothe her and speak her fair, till he managed to whisper, “I am Kamar al-Akmar;” whereupon she cried out with a loud cry and fell down fainting for excess of joy; but the King thought this was epilepsy3 brought on by her fear of him, and by her suddenly being startled. Then the Prince put his mouth to her ear and said to her, “O Shams al-Nahar, O seduction of the universe, have a care for thy life and mine and be patient and constant; for this our position needeth sufferance and skilful contrivance to make shift for our delivery from the tyrannical King. My first move will be now to go out to him and tell him that thou art possessed of a Jinn and hence thy madness; but that I will engage to heal thee and drive away the evil spirit, if he will at once unbind thy bonds. So when he cometh in to thee, do thou speak him smooth words, that he may think I have cured thee, and all will be done for us as we desire.” Quoth she, “Hearkening and obedience;” and he went out to the King in joy and gladness, and said to him, “O august King, I have, by thy good fortune, discovered her disease and its remedy, and have cured her for thee. So now do thou go in to her and speak her softly and treat her kindly, and promise her what may please her; so shall all thou desirest of her be accomplished to thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 There is no such name: perhaps it is a clerical error for “Har jáh”=(a man of) any place. I know an Englishman who in Persian called himself “Mirza Abdullah-i-Híchmakáni”=Master Abdullah of Nowhere.
2 The Bresl. Edit. (loc. cit.) gives a comical description of the Prince assuming the dress of an astrologer-doctor, clapping an old book under his arm, fumbling a rosary of beads, enlarging his turband, lengthening his sleeves and blackening his eyelids with antimony. Here, however, it would be out of place. Very comical also is the way in which he pretends to cure the maniac by “muttering unknown words, blowing in her face, biting her ear,” etc.
3 Arab. “Sar’a”=falling sickness. Here again we have in all its simplicity the old nursery idea of “possession” by evil spirits.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Prince feigned himself a leach and went in to the damsel and made himself known to her and told her how he purposed to deliver her, she cried “Hearkening and obedience!” He then fared forth from her and sought the King and said, “Go thou in to her and speak her softly and promise her what may please her; so shall all thou desirest of her be accomplished to thee.” Thereupon the King went in to her and when she saw him, she rose and kissing the ground before him, bade him welcome and said, “I admire how thou hast come to visit thy handmaid this day;” whereat he was ready to fly for joy and bade the waiting-women and the eunuchs attend her and carry her to the Hammam and make ready for her dresses and adornment. So they went in to her and saluted her, and she returned their salams with the goodliest language and after the pleasantest fashion; whereupon they clad her in royal apparel and, clasping a collar of jewels about her neck, carried her to the bath and served her there. Then they brought her forth, as she were the full moon; and, when she came into the King’s presence, she saluted him and kissed ground before him; whereupon he joyed in her with joy exceeding and said to the Prince, “O Sage, O philosopher, all this is of thy blessing. Allah increase to us the benefit of thy healing breath!”1 The Prince replied, “O King, for the completion of her cure it behoveth that thou go forth, thou and all thy troops and guards, to the place where thou foundest her, not forgetting the beast of black wood which was with her; for therein is a devil; and, unless I exorcise him, he will return to her and afflict her at the head of every month.” “With love and gladness,” cried the King, “O thou Prince of all philosophers and most learned of all who see the light of day.” Then he brought out the ebony horse to the meadow in question and rode thither with all his troops and the Princess, little weeting the purpose of the Prince. Now when they came to the appointed place, the Prince, still habited as a leach, bade them set the Princess and the steed as far as eye could reach from the King and his troops, and said to him, “With thy leave, and at thy word, I will now proceed to the fumigations and conjurations, and here imprison the adversary of mankind, that he may never more return to her. After this, I shall mount this wooden horse which seemeth to be made of ebony, and take the damsel up behind me; whereupon it will shake and sway to and fro and fare forwards, till it come to thee, when the affair will be at an end; and after this thou mayst do with her as thou wilt.” When the King heard his words, he rejoiced with extreme joy; so the Prince mounted the horse and, taking the damsel up behind him, whilst the King and his troops watched him, bound her fast to him. Then he turned the ascending-pin and the horse took flight and soared with them high in air, till they disappeared from every eye. After this the King abode half the day, expecting their return; but they returned not. So when he despaired of them, repenting him greatly of that which he had done and grieving sore for the loss of the damsel, he went back to the city with his troops. He then sent for the Persian who was in prison and said to him, “O thou traitor, O thou villian, why didst thou hide from me the mystery of the ebony horse? And now a sharper hath come to me and hath carried it off, together with a slave-girl whose ornaments are worth a mint of money, and I shall never see anyone or anything of them again!” So the Persian related to him all his past, first and last, and the King was seized with a fit of fury which well-nigh ended his life. He shut himself up in his palace for a while, mourning and afflicted; but at last his Wazirs came in to him and applied themselves to comfort him, saying, “Verily, he who took the damsel is an enchanter, and praised be Allah who hath delivered thee from his craft and sorcery!” And they ceased not from him, till he was comforted for her loss. Thus far concerning the King; but as for the Prince, he continued his career towards his father’s capital in joy and cheer, and stayed not till he alighted on his own palace, where he set the lady in safety; after which he went in to his father and mother and saluted them and acquainted them with her coming, whereat they were filled with solace and gladness. Then he spread great banquets for the towns-folk — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Nafahát”=breathings, benefits, the Heb. Neshamah opp. to Nephesh (soul) and Ruach (spirit). Healing by the breath is a popular idea throughout the East and not unknown to Western Magnetists and Mesmerists. The miraculous cures of the Messiah were, according to Moslems, mostly performed by aspiration. They hold that in the days of Isa, physic had reached its highest development, and thus his miracles were mostly miracles of medicine; whereas, in Mohammed’s time, eloquence had attained its climax and accordingly his miracles were those of eloquence, as shown in the Koran and Ahádís.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King’s son spread great banquets for the towns-folk and they held high festival a whole month, at the end of which time he went in to the Princess and they took their joy of each other with exceeding joy. But his father brake the ebony horse in pieces and destroyed its mechanism for flight; moreover the Prince wrote a letter to the Princess’s father, advising him of all that had befallen her and informing him how she was now married to him and in all health and happiness, and sent it by a messenger, together with costly presents and curious rarities. And when the messenger arrived at the city which was Sana’a and delivered the letter and the presents to the King, he read the missive and rejoiced greatly thereat and accepted the presents, honouring and rewarding the bearer handsomely. Moreover, he forwarded rich gifts to his son-in-law by the same messenger, who returned to his master and acquainted him with what had passed; whereat he was much cheered. And after this the Prince wrote a letter every year to his father-in-law and sent him presents till, in course of time, his sire King Sabur deceased and he reigned in his stead, ruling justly over his lieges and conducting himself well and righteously towards them, so that the land submitted to him and his subjects did him loyal service; and Kamar al-Akmar and his wife Shams al-Nahar abode in the enjoyment of all satisfaction and solace of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of deligights and Sunderer of societies; the Plunderer of palaces, the Caterer for cemeteries and the Garnerer of graves. And now glory be to the Living One who dieth not and in whose hand is the dominion of the worlds visible and invisible! Moreover I have heard tell the tale of
There was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, a King of great power and lord of glory and dominion galore; who had a Wazir Ibrahim hight, and this Wazir’s daughter was a damsel of extraordinary beauty and loveliness, gifted with passing brilliancy and the perfection of grace, possessed of abundant wit, and in all good breeding complete. But she loved wassail and wine and the human face divine and choice verses and rare stories; and the delicacy of her inner gifts invited all hearts to love, even as saith the poet, describing her,
“Like moon she shines amid the starry sky,
Robing in tresses blackest ink outvie.
The morning-breezes give her boughs fair drink,
And like a branch she sways with supple ply:
She smiles in passing us. O thou that art
Fairest in yellow robed, or cramoisie,
Thou playest with my wit in love, as though
Sparrow in hand of playful boy were I.”2
Her name was Rose-in-Hood and she was so named for her young and tender beauty and the freshness of her brilliancy; and the King loved her in his cups because of her accomplishments and fine manners. Now it was the King’s custom yearly to gather together all the nobles of his realm and play with the ball.3 So when the day came round whereon the folk assembled for ballplay, the Minister’s daughter seated herself at her lattice, to divert herself by looking on at the game; and, as they were at play, her glance fell upon a youth among the guards than whom never was seen a comelier face nor a goodlier form; for he was bright of favour showing white teeth when he smiled, tall-statured and broad-shouldered. She looked at him again and again and could not take her fill of gazing; and presently said to her nurse, “What is the name of yonder handsome young man among the troops?” Replied the nurse, “O my daughter, the dear fellows are all handsome. Which of them dost thou mean?” Said Rose-in-Hood, “Wait till he come past and I will point him out to thee.” So she took an apple and as he rode by dropped it on him, whereupon he raised his head, to see who did this, and espied the Wazir’s daughter at the window, as she were the moon of fullest light in the darkness of the night; nor did he withdraw his eyes, till his heart was utterly lost to her, and he recited these lines,
“Was’t archer shot me, or was’t thine eyes
Ruined lover’s heart that thy charms espies?
Was the notched shaft4 from a host outshot,
Or from latticed window in sudden guise?”
When the game was at an end, and all had left the ground, she asked her nurse, “What is the name of that youth I showed thee?”; and the good woman answered, “His name is Uns al-Wujud;” whereat Rose-in-Hood shook her head and lay down on her couch, with thoughts a-fire for love. Then, sighing deeply, she improvised these couplets,
“He missed not who dubbed thee, ‘World’s delight,’
A world’s love conjoining to bounty’s light:5
O thou, whose favour the full moon favours,
Whose charms make life and the living bright!
Thou hast none equal among mankind;
Sultan of Beauty, and proof I’ll cite:
Thine eye-brows are likest a well-formed Nún,6
And thine eyes a Sád,7 by His hand indite;
Thy shape is the soft, green bough that gives
When asked to all with all-gracious sprite:
Thou excellest knights of the world in stowre,
With delight and beauty and bounty dight.”
When she had finished her verses, she wrote them on a sheet of paper, which she folded in a piece of golf-embroidered silk and placed under her pillow. Now one of her nurses had seen her; so she came up to her and held her in talk till she slept, when she stole the scroll from under her pillow; and, after reading it, knew that she had fallen in love with Uns al-Wujud. Then she returned the scroll to its place and when her mistress awoke, she said to her, “O my lady, indeed I am to thee a true counsellor and am tenderly anxious on thy account. Know that love is a tyrant and the hiding it melteth iron and entaileth sickness and unease; nor for whoso confesseth it is there aught of reproach.” Rejoined Rose-in-Hood, “And what is the medicine of passion, O nurse mine?” Answered the nurse, “The medicine of passion is enjoyment” Quoth she, “And how may one come by enjoyment?” Quoth the other, “By letters and messages, my lady; by whispered words of compliment and by greetings before the world;8 all this bringeth lovers together and makes hard matters easy. So if thou have aught at heart, mistress mine, I am the fittest to keep thy secret and do thy desires and carry thy letters.” Now when the damsel heard this, her reason flew and fled for joy; but she restrained herself from speech till she should see the issue of the matter, saying within herself, “None knoweth this thing of me, nor will I trust this one with my secret, till I have tried her.” Then said the woman, “O my lady, I saw in my sleep as though a man came to me and said: ‘Thy mistress and Uns al-Wujud love each other; so do thou serve their case by carrying their messages and doing their desires and keeping their secrets; and much good shall befal thee.’ So now I have told thee my vision and it is thine to decide.” Quoth Rose-in-Hood, after she heard of the dream — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lit. “The rose in the sleeves or calyces.” I take my English equivalent from Jeremy Taylor, “So I have seen a rose newly springing from the clefts of its hood,” etc.
2 These lines are from the Bresl. Edit. (v. 35). The four couplets in the Mac. Edit. are too irrelevant.
3 Polo, which Lane calls “Goff.”
4 Arab. “Muffawak”=well-notched, as its value depends upon the notch. At the end of the third hemistitch Lane’s Shaykh very properly reads “baghtatan” (suddenly) for “burhatan”=during a long time.
5 “Uns” (which the vulgar pronounce Anas) “al-Wujud”=Delight of existing things, of being, of the world. Uns wa jud is the normal pun=love-intimacy and liberality; and the caranomasia (which cannot well be rendered in English) re-appears again and again. The story is throughout one of love; hence the quantity of verse.
6 The allusion to a “written N” suggests the elongated not the rounded form of the letter as in Night cccxxiv.
7 The fourteenth Arabic letter in its medial form resembling an eye.
8 This is done by the man passing his fingers over the brow as if to wipe off perspiration; the woman acknowledges it by adjusting her head-veil with both hands. As a rule in the Moslem East women make the first advances; and it is truly absurd to see a great bearded fellow blushing at being ogled. During the Crimean war the fair sex of Constantinople began by these allurements but found them so readily accepted by the Giaours that they were obliged to desist.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Rose-in- Hood asked her nurse after hearing of the dream, “Tell me, canst thou keep a secret, O my nurse?”; whereto she answered, “And how should I not keep secrecy, I that am of the flower of the free?”1 Then the maiden pulled out the scroll, whereon she had written the verses and said, “Carry me this my letter to Uns al-Wujud and bring me his reply.” The nurse took the letter and, repairing to Uns al-Wujud, kissed his hands and greeted him right courteously, then gave him the paper; and he read it and, comprehending the contents, wrote on the back these couplets,
“I soothe my heart and my love repel;
But my state interprets my love too well:
When tears flow I tell them mine eyes are ill,
Lest the censor see and my case fortell,
I was fancy-free and unknew I Love;
But I fell in love and in madness fell.
I show you my case and complain of pain,
Pine and ecstasy that your ruth compel:
I write you with tears of eyes, so belike
They explain the love come my heart to quell;
Allah guard a face that is veiled with charms,
Whose thrall is Moon and the Stars as well:
In her beauty I never beheld the like;
From her sway the branches learn sway and swell:
I beg you, an ’tis not too much of pains,
To call;2 ’twere boon without parallel.
I give you a soul you will haply take.
To which Union is Heaven, Disunion Hell.”
Then he folded the letter and kissing it, gave it to the go- between and said to her, “O nurse, incline the lady’s heart to me.” “To hear is to obey,” answered she and carried the script to her mistress, who kissed it and laid it on her head, then she opened it and read it and understood it and wrote at the foot of it these couplets,
“O whose heart by our beauty is captive ta’en,
Have patience and all thou shalt haply gain!
When we knew that thy love was a true affect,
And what pained our heart to thy heart gave pain,
We had granted thee wished-for call and more;
But hindered so doing the chamberlain.
When the night grows dark, through our love’s excess
Fire burns our vitals with might and main:
And sleep from our beds is driven afar,
And our bodies are tortured by passion-bane.
‘Hide Love!’ in Love’s code is the first command;
And from raising his veil thy hand restrain:
I fell love-fulfilled by yon gazelle:
Would he never wander from where I dwell!”
Then she folded the letter and gave it to the nurse, who took it and went out from her mistress to seek the young man; but, as she would fare forth, the chamberlain met her and said to her, “Whither away?” “To the bath,” answered she; but in her fear and confusion, she dropped the letter, without knowing it, and went off unrecking what she had done; when one of the eunuchs, seeing it lying in the way, picked it up. When the nurse came without the door, she sought for it, but found it not, so turned back to her mistress and told her of this and what had befallen her. Meanwhile, the Wazir came out of the Harim and seated himself on his couch; whereupon behold, the eunuch, who had picked up the letter, came in to him, hending it in hand and said, “O my lord, I found this paper lying upon the floor and picked it up.” So the Minister took it from his hand, folded as it was, and opening it, read the verses as above set down. Then, after mastering the meaning, he examined the writing and knew it for his daughter’s hand; whereupon he went to her mother, weeping so abundant tears that his beard was wetted. His wife asked him, “What maketh thee weep, O my lord?”; and he answered, “Take this letter and see what is therein.” So she took it and found it to be a love-letter from her daughter Rose-in-Hood to Uns al-Wujud: whereupon the ready drops sprang to her eyes; but she composed her mind, and, gulping down her tears, said to her husband, “O my lord, there is no profit in weeping: the right course is to cast about for a means of keeping thine honour and concealing the affair of thy daughter.” And she went on to comfort him and lighten his trouble; but he said, “I am fearful for my daughter by reason of this new passion. Knowest thou not that the Sultan loveth Uns al-Wujud with exceeding love? And my fear hath two causes. The first concerneth myself; it is, that she is my daughter: the second is on account of the King; for that Uns al-Wujud is a favourite with the Sultan and peradventure great troubles shall come out of this affair. What deemest thou should be done?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir, after recounting the affair of his daughter, asked his wife, “What deemest thou should be done?” And she answered, “Have patience whilst I pray the prayer for right direction.” So she prayed a two-bow prayer according to the prophetic1 ordinance for seeking divine guidance; after which she said to her husband, “In the midst of the Sea of Treasures2 standeth a mountain named the Mount of the Bereaved Mother (the cause of which being so called shall presently follow in its place, Inshallah!); and thither can none have access, save with pains and difficulty and distress: do thou make that same her abiding-place.” Accordingly the Minister and his wife agreed to build on that mountain a virgin castle and lodge their daughter therein with the necessary provision to be renewed year by year and attendants to cheer and to serve her. Accordingly he collected carpenters, builders and architects and despatched them to the mountain, where they builded her an impregnable castle, never saw eyes the like thereof. Then he made ready vivers and carriage for the journey and, going in to his daughter by night, bade her prepare to set out on a pleasure-excursion. Thereupon her heart presaged the sorrows of separation and, when she went forth and saw the preparations for the journey, she wept with sore weeping and wrote that upon the door which might acquaint her lover with what had passed and with the transports of passion and grief that were upon her, transports such as would make the flesh to shiver and hair to stare, and melt the hardest stone with care, and tear from every eye a tear. And what she wrote were these couplets,
“By Allah, O thou house, if my beloved a morn go by,
And greet with signs and signals lover e’er is wont to fly,
I pray thee give him our salams in pure and fragrant guise,
For he indeed may never know where we this eve shall lie.
I wot not whither they have fared, thus bearing us afar
At speed, and lightly-quipt, the lighter from one love to fly:
When starkens night, the birds in brake or branches snugly perched
Wail for our sorrow and announce our hapless destiny:
The tongue of their condition saith, ‘Alas, alas for woe,
And heavy brunt of parting-blow two lovers must aby’:
When viewed I separation-cups were filled to the brim
And us with merest sorrow-wine Fate came so fast to ply,
I mixed them with becoming share of patience self to excuse,
But Patience for the loss of you her solace doth refuse.”
Now when she ended her lines, she mounted and they set forward with her, crossing and cutting over wold and wild and riant dale and rugged hill, till they came to the shore of the Sea of Treasures; here they pitched their tents and built her a great ship, wherein they went down with her and her suite and carried them over to the mountain. The Minister had ordered them, on reaching the journey’s end, to set her in the castle and to make their way back to the shore, where they were to break up the vessel. So they did his bidding and returned home, weeping over what had befallen. Such was their case; but as regards Uns al- Wujud, he arose from sleep and prayed the dawn-prayer, after which he took horse and rode forth to attend upon the Sultan. On his way, he passed by the Wazir’s house, thinking perchance to see some of his followers as of wont; but he saw no one and, looking upon the door, he read written thereon the verses aforesaid. At this sight, his senses failed him; fire was kindled in his vitals and he returned to his lodging, where he passed the day in trouble and transports of grief, without finding ease or patience, till night darkened upon him, when his yearning and love-longing redoubled. Thereupon, by way of concealment, he disguised himself in the ragged garb of a Fakir,3 and set out wandering at random through the glooms of night, distracted and knowing not whither he went. So he wandered on all that night and next day, till the heat of the sun waxed fierce and the mountains flamed like fire and thirst was grievous upon him. Presently, he espied a tree, by whose side was a thin thread of running water; so he made towards it and sitting down in the shade, on the bank of the rivulet, essayed to drink, but found that the water had no taste in his mouth;4 and, indeed his colour had changed and his face had yellowed, and his feet were swollen with travel and travail. So he shed copious tears and repeated these couplets,
“The lover is drunken with love of friend;
On a longing that groweth his joys depend:
Love-distracted, ardent, bewildered, lost
From home, nor may food aught of pleasure lend:
How can life be delightsome to one in love,
And from lover parted, ’twere strange, unkenned!
I melt with the fire of my pine for them,
And the tears down my cheek in a stream descend.
Shall I see them, say me, or one that comes
From the camp, who th’ afflicted heart shall tend?”
And after thus reciting he wept till he wetted the hard dry ground; but anon without loss of time he rose and fared on again over waste and wold, till there came out upon him a lion, with a neck buried in tangled mane, a head the bigness of a dome, a mouth wider than the door thereof and teeth like elephants’ tusks. Now when Uns al-Wujud saw him, he gave himself up for lost, and turning5 towards the Temple of Meccah, pronounced the professions of the faith and prepared for death. He had read in books that whoso will flatter the lion, beguileth him,6 for that he is readily duped by smooth speech and gentled by being glorified; so he began and said, “O Lion of the forest! O Lord of the waste! O terrible Leo! O father of fighters! O Sultan of wild beasts! Behold, I am a lover in longing, whom passion and severance have been wronging; since I parted from my dear, I have lost my reasoning gear; wherefore, to my speech do thou give ear and have ruth on my passion and hope and fear.” When the lion heard this, he drew back from him and sitting down on his hindquarters, raised his head to him and began to frisk tail and paws; which when Uns al-Wujud saw, he recited these couplets,
“Lion of the wold wilt thou murther me,
Ere I meet her who doomed me to slavery?
I am not game and I bear no fat;
For the loss of my love makes me sickness dree;
And estrangement from her hath so worn me down
I am like a shape in a shroud we see.
O thou sire of spoils,7 O thou lion of war,
Give not my pains to the blamer’s gree.
I burn with love, I am drowned in tears
For a parting from lover, sore misery!
And my thoughts of her in the murk of night
For love hath make my being unbe.”
As he had finished his lines the lion rose — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sunnat,” the practice of the Prophet. For this prayer and other silly and superstitious means of discovering the “right direction” (which is often very wrongly directed) see Lane, M.E. chapt. xi.
2 Arab. “Bahr (sea or river) al-Kunuz”: Lane (ii. 576) ingeniously identifies the site with the Upper Nile whose tribes, between Assouan (Syene) and Wady al-Subu’a are called the “Kunuz”— lit. meaning “treasures” or “hoards.” Philae is still known as the “Islet of Anas (for Uns) al-Wujud;” and the learned and accurate Burckhardt (Travels in Nubia p. 5) records the local legend that a mighty King called Al–Wujud built the Osirian temples. I can give no information concerning Jabal al-Sakla (Thakla), the Mount of the woman bereft of children, beyond the legend contained in Night ccclxxix.
3 A religious mendicant (lit. a pauper), of whom there are two great divisions. The Shara’i acts according to the faith: the others (La Shara’i, or irreligious) are bound by no such prejudices and are pretty specimens of scoundrels. (Pilgrimage i.22.)
4 Meaning his lips and palate were so swollen by drought.
5 It is a pious act in time of mortal danger to face the Kiblah or Meccan temple, as if standing in prayer.
6 Still the belief of the Badawi who tries to work upon the beast’s compassion: “O great King I am a poor man, with wife and family, so spare me that Allah spare thee!” and so forth. If not famished the lion will often stalk off looking behind him as he goes; but the man will never return by the same path; “for,” says he, “haply the Father of Roaring may repent him of a wasted opportunity.” These lion-tales are very common, witness that of Androcles at Rome and a host of others. Una and her lion is another phase. It remained for M. Jules Gerard, first the chasseur and then the tueur, du lion, to assail the reputation of the lion and the honour of the lioness.
7 Abu Haris=Father of spoils: one of the lion’s hundred titles.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that as Uns al- Wujud ended his lines, the lion arose and stalked slowly up to him, with eyes tear-railing and licked him with his tongue, then walked on before him, signing to him as though saying, “Follow me.” So he followed him, and the beast ceased not leading him on for a while till he brought him up a mountain, and guided him to the farther side, where he came upon the track of a caravan over the desert, and knew it to be that of Rose-in-Hood and her company. Then he took the trail and, when the lion saw that he knew the track for that of the party which escorted her, he turned back and went his way; whilst Uns al-Wujud walked along the foot-marks day and night, till they brought him to a dashing sea, swollen with clashing surge. The trail led down to the sandy shore and there broke off; whereby he knew that they had taken ship and had continued their journey by water. So he lost hope of finding his lover and with hot tears he repeated these couplets,
“Far is the fane and patience faileth me;
How can I seek them1 o’er the abyssmal sea;
Or how be patient, when my vitals burn
For love of them, and sleep waxed insomny?
Since the sad day they left the home and fled,
My heart’s consumed by love’s ardency:
Sayhun, Jayhun,2 Euphrates-like my tears,
Make flood no deluged rain its like can see:
Mine eyelids chafed with running tears remain,
My heart from fiery sparks is never free;
The hosts of love and longing pressed me
And made the hosts of patience break and flee.
I’ve risked my life too freely for their love;
And risk of life the least of ills shall be.
Allah ne’er punish eye that saw those charms
Enshrined, and passing full moon’s brilliancy!
I found me felled by fair wide-opened eyes,
Which pierced my heart with stringless archery:
And soft, lithe, swaying shape enraptured me
As sway the branches of the willow-tree:
Wi’ them I covet union that I win,
O’er love-pains cark and care, a mastery.
For love of them aye, morn and eve I pine,
And doubt all came to me from evil eyne.”
And when his lines were ended he wept, till he swooned away, and abode in his swoon a long while; but as soon as he came to himself, he looked right and left and seeing no one in the desert, he became fearful of the wild beasts; so he clomb to the top of a high mountain, where he heard the voice of a son of Adam speaking within a cave. He listened and lo! they were the accents of a devotee, who had forsworn the world and given himself up to pious works and worship. He knocked thrice at the cavern-door, but the hermit made him no answer, neither came forth to him; wherefore he groaned aloud and recited these couplets.
“What pathway find I my desire t’obtain,
How ’scape from care and cark and pain and bane?
All terrors join to make me old and hoar
Of head and heart, ere youth from me is ta’en:
Nor find I any aid my passion, nor
A friend to lighten load of bane and pain.
How great and many troubles I’ve endured!
Fortune hath turned her back I see unfain.
Ah mercy, mercy on the lover’s heart,
Doomed cup of parting and desertion drain!
A fire is in his heart, his vitals waste,
And severance made his reason vainest vain.
How dread the day I came to her abode
And saw the writ they wrote on doorway lain!
I wept, till gave I earth to drink my grief;
But still to near and far3 I did but feign:
Then strayed I till in waste a lion sprang
On me, and but for flattering words had slain:
I soothed him: so he spared me and lent me aid,
He too might haply of love’s taste complain.
O devotee, that idlest in thy cave,
Meseems eke thou hast learned Love’s might and main;
But if, at end of woes, with them I league,
Straight I’ll forget all suffering and fatigue.”
Hardly had he made an end of these verses when, behold! the door of the cavern opened and he heard one say, “Alas, the pity of it!”4 So he entered and saluted the devotee, who returned his salam and asked him, “What is thy name?” Answered the young man, “Uns al-Wujud.” “And what caused thee to come hither?” quoth the hermit. So he told him his story in its entirety, omitting naught of his misfortunes; whereat he wept and said, “O Uns al-Wujud, these twenty years have I passed in this place, but never beheld I any man here, until yesterday, when I heard a noise of weeping and lamentation and, looking forth in the direction of the sound, saw many people and tents pitched on the sea-shore; and the party at once proceeded to build a ship, in which certain of them embarked and sailed over the waters. Then some of the crew returned with the ship and breaking it up, went their way; and I suspect that those who embarked in the ship and returned not, are they whom thou seekest. In that case, O Uns al-Wujud, thy grief must needs be great and sore and thou art excusable, though never yet was lover but suffered love-longing.” Then he recited these couplets,
“Uns al-Wujud, dost deem me fancy-free,
When pine and longing slay and quicken me?
I have known love and yearning from the years
Since mother-milk I drank, nor e’er was free.
Long struggled I with Love, till learnt his might;
Ask thou of him, he’ll tell with willing gree.
Love-sick and pining drank I passion-cup,
And well-nigh perished in mine agony.
Strong was I, but my strength to weakness turned,
And eye-sword brake through Patience armoury:
Hope not to win love-joys, without annoy;
Contrary ever links with contrary.
But fear not change from lover true; be true
Unto thy wish, some day thine own ’twill be.
Love hath forbidden to his votaries
Relinquishment as deadliest heresy.”
The eremite, having ended his verse, rose and, coming up to Uns al-Wujud, embraced him — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “They” again for “she.”
2 Jaxartes and Oxus. The latter (Jayhun or Amu, Oxus or Bactros) is famous for dividing Iran from Turan, Persia from Tartaria. The lands to its north are known as Ma wara al-Nahr (Mawerannahar) or “What is behind the stream,”=Transoxiana and their capitals were successively Samarcand and Bokhara.
3 Arab. “Dani was gharib”=friend and foe. The lines are partly from the Mac. Edit. and partly from the Bresl. Edit., v. 55.
4 Arab. “Wa Rahmata-hu!” a form now used only in books.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the eremite having ended his verse, rose and coming up to Uns al-Wujud embraced him, and they wept together, till the hills rang with their cries and they fell down fainting. When they revived, they swore brotherhood1 in Allah Almighty; after which said Uns al-Wujud, “This very night will I pray to God and seek of Him direction2 anent what thou shouldst do to attain thy desire.” Thus it was with them; but as regards Rose-in-Hood, when they brought her to the mountain and set her in the castle and she beheld its ordering, she wept and exclaimed, “By Allah, thou art a goodly place, save that thou lackest in thee the presence of the beloved!”3 Then seeing birds in the island, she bade her people set snares for them and put all they caught in cages within the castle; and they did so. But she sat at a lattice and bethought her of what had passed, and desire and passion and distraction redoubled upon her, till she burst into tears and repeated these couplets,
“O to whom now, of my desire complaining sore, shall I
Bewail my parting from my fere compellèd thus to fly?
Flames rage within what underlies my ribs, yet hide them I
In deepest secret dreading aye the jealous hostile spy:
I am grown as lean, attenuate as any pick of tooth,4
By sore estrangement, absence, ardour, ceaseless sob and sigh.
Where is the eye of my beloved to see how I’m become
Like tree stripped bare of leafage left to linger and to die.
They tyrannised over me whom they confined in place
Whereto the lover of my heart may never draw him nigh:
I beg the Sun for me to give greetings a thousandfold,
At time of rising and again when setting from the sky,
To the beloved one who shames a full moon’s loveliness,
When shows that slender form that doth the willow-branch outvie.
If Rose herself would even with his cheek, I say of her
‘Thou art not like it if to me my portion thou deny:’5
His honey-dew of lips is like the grateful water draught
Would cool me when a fire in heart upflameth fierce and high:
How shall I give him up who is my heart and soul of me,
My malady my wasting cause, my love, sole leach of me?”
Then, as the glooms of night closed around her, her yearning increased and she called to mind the past and recited also these couplets,
“’Tis dark: my transport and unease now gather might and main,
And love-desire provoketh me to wake my wonted pain: The pang of parting takes for ever place within my breast,
And pining makes me desolate in destitution lain.
Ecstasy sore maltreats my soul and yearning burns my sprite,
And tears betray love’s secresy which I would lief contain:
I weet no way, I know no case that can make light my load,
Or heal my wasting body or cast out from me this bane.
A hell of fire is in my heart upflames with lambent tongue
And Laza’s furnace-fires within my liver place have ta’en.
O thou, exaggerating blame for what befel, enough
I bear with patience whatsoe’er hath writ for me the Pen!
I swear, by Allah, ne’er to find aught comfort for their loss;
“Tis oath of passion’s children and their oaths are ne’er in vain.
O Night! Salams of me to friends and let to them be known
Of thee true knowledge how I wake and waking ever wone.”
Meanwhile, the hermit said to Uns al-Wujud, “Go down to the palm-grove in the valley and fetch some fibre.”6 So he went and returned with the palm-fibre, which the hermit took and, twisting into ropes, make therewith a net,7 such as is used for carrying straw; after which he said, “O Uns al-Wujud, in the heart of the valley groweth a gourd, which springeth up and drieth upon its roots. Go down there and fill this sack therewith; then tie it together and, casting it into the water, embark thereon and make for the midst of the sea, so haply thou shalt win thy wish; for whoso never ventureth shall not have what he seeketh.” “I hear and obey,” answered Uns al-Wujud. Then he bade the hermit farewell after the holy man had prayed for him; and, betaking himself to the sole of the valley, did as his adviser had counselled him; made the sack, launched it upon the water, and pushed from shore. Then there arose a wind, which drave him out to sea, till he was lost to the eremite’s view; and he ceased not to float over the abysses of the ocean, one billow tossing him up and another bearing him down (and he beholding the while the dangers and marvels of the deep), for the space of three days. At the end of that time Fate cast him upon the Mount of the Bereft Mother, where he landed, giddy and tottering like a chick unfledged, and at the last of his strength for hunger and thirst; but, finding there streams flowing and birds on the branches cooing and fruit-laden trees in clusters and singly growing, he ate of the fruits and drank of the rills. Then he walked on till he saw some white thing afar off, and making for it, found that it was a strongly fortified castle. So he went up to the gate and seeing it locked, sat down by it; and there he sat for three days when behold, the gate opened and an eunuch came out, who finding Uns al-Wujud there seated, said to him, “Whence camest thou and who brought thee hither?” Quoth he, “From Ispahan and I was voyaging with merchandise when my ship was wrecked and the waves cast me upon the farther side of this island.” Whereupon the eunuch wept and embraced him, saying, “Allah preserve thee, O thou friendly face! Ispahan is mine own country and I have there a cousin, the daughter of my father’s brother, whom I loved from my childhood and cherished with fond affection; but a people stronger than we fell upon us in foray and taking me among other booty, cut off my yard8 and sold me for a castrato, whilst I was yet a lad; and this is how I came to be in such case.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Before noted. The relationship, like that of foster-brother, has its rights, duties and privileges.
2 Arab. “Istikharah,” before explained as praying for direction by omens of the rosary, opening the Koran and reading the first verse sighted, etc., etc. At Al–Medinah it is called Khirah and I have suggested (Pilgrimage, ii. 287) that it is a relic of the Azlam or Kidah (divining arrows) of paganism. But the superstition is not local: we have the Sortes Virgilianae (Virgil being a magician) as well as Coranicae.
3 Arab. “Wujud al-Habib,” a pun, also meaning, “Wujud my beloved.”
4 Arab. “Khilal,” as an emblem of attenuation occurring in Al–Hariri (Ass. of Alexandria, etc.); also thin as a spindle (Maghzal), as a reed, and dry as a pair of shears. In the Ass. of Barka’id the toothpick is described as a beautiful girl. The use of this cleanly article was enjoined by Mohammed:—“Cleanse your mouths with toothpicks; for your mouths are the abode of the guardian angels; whose pens are the tongues, and whose ink is the spittle of men; and to whom naught is more unbearable than remains of food in the mouth.” A mighty apparatus for a small matter; but in very hot lands cleanliness must rank before godliness.
5 The sense is ambiguous. Lane renders the verse:—“Thou resemblest it (rose) not of my portion” and gives two explanations “because he is of my portion,” or, “because his cheek cannot be rosy if mine is not.” Mr. Payne boldly translates —
“If the rose ape his cheek, ‘Now God forfend,’ I say, ‘That of my portion aught to pilfer thou shouldst try’.”
6 Arab. “lif” (not “fibres which grow at the top of the trunk,” Lane ii. 577); but the fibre of the fronds worked like the cocoa-nut fibre which forms the now well-known Indian “coir.” This “lif” is also called “filfil” or “fulfil” which Dr. Jonathan Scott renders “pepper” (Lane i. 8) and it forms a clean succedaneum for one of the uncleanest articles of civilisation, the sponge. It is used in every Hammam and is (or should be) thrown away after use.
7 Arab. “Shinf;” a course sack, a “gunny-bag;” a net compared with such article.
8 The eunuch tells him that he is not a “Sandali”=one whose penis and testes are removed; and consequently the highest valued. There are many ways of making the castrato; in some (as here) only the penis is removed, in other the testes are bruised or cut off; but in all cases the animal passion remains, for in man, unlike other animals, the fons veneris is the brain. The story of Abelard proves this. Juvenal derided the idea of married eunuchs and yet almost all of these neutrals have wives with whom they practise the manifold plaisirs de la petite oie (masturbation, tribadism, irrumation, tete-beche, feuille-de-rose, etc.), till they induce the venereal orgasm. Such was the account once given to me by a eunuch’s wife; and I need hardly say that she, like her confrerie, was to be pitied. At the critical moment she held up a little pillow for her husband to bite who otherwise would have torn her cheeks or breasts.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the eunuch who came forth from the castle, where Rose-in-Hood was confined, told Uns al-Wujud all his tale and said:—“The raiders who captured me cut off my yard and sold me for a castrato; and this is how I came to be in such case.”1 And after saluting him and wishing him long life, the eunuch carried him into the courtyard of the castle, where he saw a great tank of water, surrounded by trees, on whose branches hung cages of silver, with doors of gold, and therein birds were warbling and singing the praises of the Requiting King. And when he came to the first cage he looked in and lo! a turtle dove, on seeing him, raised her voice and cried out, saying, “O Thou Bounty-fraught!” Whereat he fell down fainting and after coming to himself, he sighed heavily and recited these couplets,
“O turtle dove, like me art thou distraught?
Then pray the Lord and sing ‘O Bounty-fraught!’
Would I knew an thy moan were sign of joy,
Or cry of love-desire in heart inwrought —
An moan thou pining for a lover gone
Who left thee woe begone to pine in thought —
Or if like me hast lost thy fondest friend,
And severance long desire to memory brought?
O Allah, guard a faithful lover’s lot
I will not leave her though my bones go rot!”
Then, after ending his verses, he fainted again; and, presently reviving he went on to the second cage, wherein he found a ringdove. When it saw him, it sang out, “O Eternal, I thank thee!” and he groaned and recited these couplets,
“I heard a ringdove chanting plaintively,
‘I thank Thee, O Eternal for this misery!’
Haply, perchance, may Allah, of His grace,
Send me by this long round my love to see.
Full oft2 she comes with honeyed lips dark red,
And heaps up lowe upon love’s ardency.
Quoth I (while longing fires flame high and fierce
In heart, and wasting life’s vitality,
And tears like gouts of blood go railing down
In torrents over cheeks now pale of blee),
‘None e’er trod earth that was not born to woe,
But I will patient dree mine agony,
So help me Allah! till that happy day
When with my mistress I unite shall be:
Then will I spend my good on lover-wights,
Who’re of my tribe and of the faith of me;
And loose the very birds from jail set free,
And change my grief for gladdest gree and glee!’”
Then he went on to the third cage, wherein he found a mockingbird3 which, when it saw him, set up a song, and he recited the following couplets,
“Pleaseth me yon Hazar of mocking strain
Like voice of lover pained by love in vain.
Woe’s me for lovers! Ah how many men
By nights and pine and passion low are lain!
As though by stress of love they had been made
Morn-less and sleep-less by their pain and bane.
When I went daft for him who conquered me
And pined for him who proved of proudest strain,
My tears in streams down trickled and I cried
‘These long-linkt tears bind like an adamant-chain:’
Grew concupiscence, severance long, and I
Lost Patience’ hoards and grief waxed sovereign:
If Justice bide in world and me unite
With him I love and Allah veil us deign,
I’ll strip my clothes that he my form shall sight
With parting, distance, grief, how poor of plight!”
Then he went to the fourth cage, where he found a Bulbul4 which, at sight of him, began to sway to and fro and sing its plaintive descant; and when he heard its complaint, he burst into tears and repeated these couplets.
“The Bulbul’s note, whenas dawn is nigh,
Tells the lover from strains of strings to fly:
Complaineth for passion Uns al-Wujud,
For pine that would being to him deny.
How many a strain do we hear, whose sound
Softens stones and the rock can mollify:
And the breeze of morning that sweetly speaks
Of meadows in flowered greenery.
And scents and sounds in the morning-tide
Of birds and zephyrs in fragrance vie;
But I think of one, of an absent friend,
And tears rail like rain from a showery sky;
And the flamy tongues in my breast uprise
As sparks from gleed that in dark air fly.
Allah deign vouchsafe to a lover distraught
Someday the face of his dear to descry!
For lovers, indeed, no excuse is clear,
Save excuse of sight and excuse of eye.”
Then he walked on a little and came to a goodly cage, than which was no goodlier there, and in it a culver of the forest, that is to say, a wood-pigeon,5 the bird renowned among birds as the minstrel of love-longing, with a collar of jewels about its neck marvellous fine and fair. He considered it awhile and, seeing it absently brooding in its cage, he shed tears and repeated these couplets,
“O culver of copse,6 with salams I greet;
O brother of lovers who woe must weet!
I love a gazelle who is slender-slim,
Whose glances for keenness the scymitar beat:
For her love are my heart and my vitals a-fire,
And my frame consumes in love’s fever-heat.
The sweet taste of food is unlawful for me,
And forbidden is slumber, unlawfullest sweet.
Endurance and solace have travelled from me,
And love homes in my heart and grief takes firm seat:
How shall life deal joy when they flee my sight
Who are joy and gladness and life and sprite?”
As soon as Uns al-Wujud had ended his verse — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In real life the eunuch, as a rule, avoids all allusion to his misfortune, although the slave will often describe his being sold merrily enough.
2 The visits are in dreamland. The ringdove thanks the Lord for her (his?) suffering in the holy martyrdom of love.
3 Arab. “Hazar;” I have explained it as meaning “(the bird of) a thousand (songs).”
4 The “Bulbul” had his day with us but he departed with Tommy Moore. We usually English the word by “nightingale;” but it is a kind of shrike or butcher-bird (Lanius Boulboul. Lath.).
5 The “Hamam” is a lieu commun in Arabic poetry. I have noticed the world-wide reverence for the pigeon and the incarnation of the Third Person of the Hindu Triad (Shiva), as Kapoteshwara (Kapota-ishwara)”=pigeon or dove-god (Pilgrimage iii. 218).
6 Arab. “Hamam al-Ayk.” Mr. Payne’s rendering is so happy that we must either take it from him or do worse.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that as soon as Uns al-Wujud had ended his verse, the wood-culver awoke from its brooding and cooed a reply to his lines and shrilled and trilled with its thrilling notes till it all but spake with human speech;1 and the tongue of the case talked for it and recited these couplets,
“O lover, thou bringest to thought a tide
When the strength of my youth first faded and died;
And a friend of whose form I was ‘namoured,
Seductive and dight with beauty’s pride;
Whose voice, as he sat on the sandhill-tree,
From the Nay’s2 sweet sound turned my heart aside;
A fowler snared him in net, the while
‘O that man would leave me at large!’ he cried;
I had hoped he might somewhat of mercy show
When a hapless lover he so espied;
But Allah smite him who tore me away,
In his hardness of heart, from my lover’s side;
But aye my desire for him groweth more,
And my heart with the fires of disjunction is fried:
Allah guard a true lover, who strives with love,
And hath borne the torments I still abide!
And, seeing me bound in this cage, with mind
Of ruth, release me my love to find.”
Then Uns al-Wujud turned to his companion, the Ispahahi, and said, “What palace is this? Who built it and who abideth in it?” Quoth the eunuch, “The Wazir of a certain King built it to guard his daughter, fearing for her the accidents of Time and the incidents of Fortune, and lodged her herein, her and her attendants; nor do we open it save once in every year, when their provision cometh to them.” And Uns al-Wujud said to himself, “I have gained my end, though I may have long to wait.” Such was his case; but as regards Rose-in-Hood, of a truth she took no pleasure in eating or drinking, sitting or sleeping; but her desire and passion and distraction redoubled on her, and she went wandering about the castle-corners, but could find no issue; wherefore she shed tears and recited these couplets,
“They have cruelly ta’en me from him, my beloved,
And made me taste anguish in prison ta’en:
They have fired my heart with the flames of love,
Barred all sight of him whom to see I’m fain:
In a lofty palace they prisoned me
On a mountain placed in the middle main.
If they’d have me forget him, right vain’s their wish,
For my love is grown of a stronger strain.
How can I forget him whose face was cause
Of all I suffer, of all I ‘plain?
The whole of my days in sorrow’s spent,
And in thought of him through the night I’m lain.
Remembrance of him cheers my solitude,
While I lorn of his presence and lone remain.
Would I knew if, after this all, my fate
To oblige the desire of my hear will deign.”
When her verses were ended, she ascended to the terrace-roof of the castle after donning her richest clothes and trinkets and throwing a necklace of jewels around her neck. Then binding together some dresses of Ba’albak3 stuff by way of rope, she tied them to the crenelles and let herself down thereby to the ground. And she fared on over wastes and waterless wilds, till she came to the shore, where she saw a fisherman plying here and there over the sea, for the wind had driven him on to the island. When he saw her, he was affrighted4 and pushed off again, flying from her; but she cried out and made pressing signs to him to return, versifying with these couplets,
“O fisherman no care hast thou to fear,
I’m but an earth-born maid in mortal sphere;
I pray thee linger and my prayer grant
And to my true unhappy tale give ear:
Pity (so Allah spare thee!) warmest love;
Say, hast thou seen him-my beloved fere?
I love a lovely youth whose face excels
Sunlight, and passes moon when clearest clear:
The fawn, that sees his glance, is fain to cry
‘I am his thrall’ and own himself no peer:
Beauty hath written, on his winsome cheek,
Rare lines of pregnant sense for every seer;
Who sights the light of love his soul is saved;
Who strays is Infidel to Hell anear:
An thou in mercy show his sight, O rare!5
Thou shalt have every wish, the dearest dear,
Of rubies and what likest are to them
Fresh pearls and unions new, the seashell’s tear:
My friend, thou wilt forsure grant my desire
Whose heart is melted in love’s hottest fire.
When the fisherman heard her words, he wept and made moan and lamented; then, recalling what had betided himself in the days of his youth, when love had the mastery over him and longing and desire and distraction were sore upon him and the fires of passion consumed him, replied with these couplets,
“What fair excuse is this my pining plight,
With wasted limbs and tears’ unceasing blight;
And eyelids open in the nightly murk,
And heart like fire-stick6 ready fire to smite;
Indeed love burdened us in early youth,
And true from false coin soon we learned aright:
Then did we sell our soul on way of love,
And drunk of many a well7 to win her sight;
Venturing very life to gain her grace,
And make high profit perilling a mite.
’Tis Love’s religion whoso buys with life
His lover’s grace, with highest gain is dight.”
And when he ended his verse, he moored his boat to the beach and said to her, “Embark, so may I carry thee whither thou wilt.” Thereupon she embarked and he put off with her; but they had not gone far from land, before there came out a stern-wind upon the boat and drove it swiftly out of sight of shore. Now the fisherman knew not whither he went, and the strong wind blew without ceasing three days, when it fell by leave of Allah Almighty, and they sailed on and ceased not sailing till they came in sight of a city sitting upon the sea-shore — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 All primitive peoples translate the songs of birds with human language; but, as I have noticed, the versions differ widely. The pigeon cries, “Allah! Allah!” the dove “Karim, Tawwa” (Bountiful, Pardoner!) the Kata or sand-grouse “Man sakat salam” (who is silent is safe) yet always betrays itself by its lay of “Kat-ta” and lastly the cock “Uzkuru ’llah ya ghafilun” (Remember, or take the name of Allah, ye careless!).
2 “Nay,” the Dervish’s reed pipe, symbol of the sighing absent lover (i.e. the soul parted from the Creator) so famed by the Mullah-i-Rum and Sir William Jones.
3 Ba’albak=Ba’al (the God)-city (bek in Coptic and ancient Egyptian.) Such, at least, is the popular derivation which awaits a better. No cloth has been made there since the Kurd tribe of gallant robbers known as the “Harfush” (or blackguards) lorded it over old “Heliopolis.”
4 Thinking her to be a Jinn or Ghul in the shape of a fair woman. This Arab is a strange contrast to the English fisherman, and yet he is drawn with truth.
5 Arab. “Habbaza!” (good this!) or “Habba” (how good!): so “Habba bihi,” how dear he is to me.
6 Arab. “Zind,” and “Zindah” the names of the two sticks, upper and lower, hard and soft, by which fire was kindled before flint and steel were known. We find it in Al–Hariri (Ass. of Banu Haram) “no one sought ire from my fire-stick (i.e. from me as a fire-stick) and failed.” See Night dccciii.
7 Arab. “Nazih” i.e. travelled far and wide.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the fisherman’s craft, carrying Rose-in-Hood, made the city sitting upon the sea-shore, the man set about making fast to the land. Now the King of the city was a Prince of pith and puissance named Dirbas, the Lion; and he chanced at that moment to be seated, with his son, at a window in the royal palace giving upon the sea; and happening to look out seawards, they saw the fishing-boat make the land. They observed it narrowly and espied therein a young lady, as she were the full moon overhanging the horizon-edge, with pendants in her ears of costly balass-rubies and a collar of precious stones about her throat. Hereby the King knew that this must indeed be the daughter of some King or great noble and, going forth of the sea-gate of the palace, went down to the boat, where he found the lady asleep and the fisherman busied in making fast to shore. So he went up to her and aroused her, whereupon she awoke, weeping; and he asked her, “Whence comest thou and whose daughter art thou and what be the cause of thy coming hither?”; and she answered, “I am the daughter of Ibrahim, Wazir to King Shamikh; and the manner of my coming hither is wondrous and the cause thereof marvellous.” And she told him her whole story first and last, hiding naught from him; then she groaned aloud and recited these couplets,
“Tear-drops have chafed mine eyelids and rail down in wondrous wise,
For parting pain that fills my sprite and turns to springs mine eyes,
For sake of friend who ever dwells within my vitals homed,
And I may never win my wish of him in any guise.
He hath a favour fair and bright, and brilliant is his face,
Which every Turk and Arab wight in loveliness outvies:
The Sun and fullest Moon lout low whenas his charms they sight,
And lover-like they bend to him whene’er he deigneth rise.
A wondrous spell of gramarye like Kohl bedecks his eyne,
And shows thee bow with shaft on string make ready ere it flies:
O thou, to whom I told my case expecting all excuse,
Pity a lover-wight for whom Love-shafts such fate devise!
Verily, Love hath cast me on your coast despite of me
Of will now weak, and fain I trust mine honour thou wilt prize:
For noble men, whenas perchance alight upon their bounds,
Grace-worthy guests, confess their worth and raise to dignities. Then,
O thou hope of me, to lovers’ folly veil afford
And be to them reunion cause, thou only liefest lord!”
And when she had ended her verses, she again told the King her sad tale and shed plenteous tears and recited these couplets bearing on her case,
“We lived till saw we all the marvels Love can bear;
Each month to thee we hope shall fare as Rajab1 fare:
Is it not wondrous, when I saw them march amorn
That I with water o’ eyes in heart lit flames that flare?
That these mine eyelids rain fast dropping gouts of blood?
That now my cheek grows gold where rose and lily were?
As though the safflower hue, that overspread my cheeks,
Were Joseph’s coat made stain of lying blood to wear.”
Now when the King heard her words he was certified of her love and longing and was moved to ruth for her; so he said to her, “Fear nothing and be not troubled; thou hast come to the term of thy wishes; for there is no help but that I win for thee thy will and bring thee to thy desire.” And he improvised these couplets,
“Daughter of nobles, who thine aim shalt gain;
Hear gladdest news nor fear aught hurt of bane!
This day I’ll pack up wealth, and send it on
To Shámikh, guarded by a champion-train;
Fresh pods of musk I’ll send him and brocades,
And silver white and gold of yellow vein:
Yes, and a letter shall inform him eke
That I of kinship with that King am fain:
And I this day will lend thee bestest aid,
That all thou covetest thy soul assain.
I, too, have tasted love and know its taste
And can excuse whoso the same cup drain.”2
Then, ending his verse, he went forth to his troops and summoned his Wazir; and, causing him to pack up countless treasure, commanded him carry it to King Shamikh and say to him, “Needs must thou send me a person named Uns al-Wujud;” and say moreover “The King is minded to ally himself with thee by marrying his daughter to Uns al-Wujud, thine officer. So there is no help but thou despatch him to me, that the marriage may be solemnized in her father’s kingdom.” And he wrote a letter to King Shamikh to this effect, and gave it to the Minister, charging him strictly to bring back Uns al-Wujud and warning him, “An thou fail thou shalt be deposed and degraded.” Answered the Wazir, “I hear and obey;” and, setting out forthright with the treasures, in due course arrived at the court of King Shamikh whom he saluted in the name of King Dirbas and delivered the letter and the presents. Now when King Shamikh read the letter and saw the name of Uns al-Wujud, he burst into tears and said to the Wazir “And where, or where, is Uns al-Wujud?; he went from us and we know not his place of abiding; only bring him to me, and I will give thee double the presents thou hast brought me.” And he wept and groaned and lamented, saying these couplets,
“To me restore my dear;
I want not wealth untold:
Nor crave I gifts of pearls
Or gems or store of gold:
He was to us a moon
In beauty’s heavenly fold.
Passing in form and soul;
With roe compare withhold!
His form a willow-wand,
His fruit, lures manifold;
But willow lacketh power
Men’s hearts to have and hold.
I reared him from a babe
On cot of coaxing roll’d;
And now I mourn for him
With woe in soul ensoul’d.”
Then, turning to the Wazir who had brought the presents and the missive, he said, “Go back to thy liege and acquaint him that Uns al-Wujud hath been missing this year past, and his lord knoweth not whither he is gone nor hath any tidings of him.” Answered the Minister of King Dirbas, “O my lord, my master said to me, ‘An thou fail to bring him back, thou shalt be degraded from the Wazirate and shall not enter my city. How then can I return without him?’” So King Shamikh said to his Wazir Ibrahim, “Take a company and go with him and make ye search for Uns al-Wujud everywhere.” He replied, “Hearkening and obedience;” and, taking a body of his own retainers, set out accompanied by the Wazir of King Dirbas seeking Uns al-Wujud. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “Rajab,” lit.=“worshipping:” it is the seventh lunar month and still called “Shahr-i-Khuda” (God’s month) by the Persians because in pre-Islamitic times it formed with Muharram (or in its stead Safar), Zu ‘l-ka’adah and Zu-‘l-Hijjah (Nos. 1 or 2; 7,11 and 12) the yearly peace, during which a man might not kill his father’s murderer. The idea must have taken deep root, as Arab history records only six “impious (or sacrilegious) wars,” waged despite the law. Europeans compare it with the Treuga Dei (truce of God) a seven-years peace established about A.D. 1032, by a Bishop of Aquitaine; and followed in A.D. 1245 by the Pax Regis (Royal Peace) under Louis VIII. of France. This compelled the relations of a murdered man to keep the peace for forty days after the offence was committed.
2 His Majesty wrote sad doggrel. He is better at finessing, and his message was a trick because Rose-in-Hood had told him that at home there were special obstacles to the marriage.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ibrahim, Wazir to King Shamikh, took him a body of his retainers and, accompanied by the Minister of King Dirbas, set out seeking Uns al-Wujud. And as often as they fell in with wild Arabs or others they asked of the youth, saying, “Tell us have ye seen a man whose name is so and so and his semblance thus and thus?” But they all answered, “We know him not.” Still they continued their quest, enquiring in city and hamlet and seeking in fertile plain and stony hall and in the wild and in the wold, till they made the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother; and the Wazir of King Dirbas said to Ibrahim, “Why is this mountain thus called?” He answered, “Once of old time, here sojourned a Jinniyah, of the Jinn of China, who loved a mortal with passionate love; and, being in fear of her life from her own people, searched all the earth over for a place, where she might hide him from them, till she happened on this mountain and, finding it cut off from both men and Jinn, there being no access to it, carried off her beloved and lodged him therein. There, when she could escape notice of her kith and kin, she used privily to visit him, and continued so doing till she had borne him a number of children; and the merchants, sailing by the mountain, in their voyages over the main, heard the weeping of the children, as it were the wailing of a woman bereft of her babes, and said, ‘Is there here a mother bereaved of her children?’ For which reason the place was named the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother.” And the Wazir of King Dirbas marvelled at his words. Then they landed and, making for the castle, knocked at the gate which was opened to them by an eunuch, who knew the Wazir Ibrahim and kissed his hands. The Minister entered and found in the courtyard, among the serving-men, a Fakir, which was Uns al-Wujud, but he knew him not and said, “Whence cometh yonder wight?” Quoth they, “He is a merchant, who hath lost his goods, but saved himself; and he is an ecstatic.”1 So the Wazir left him and went on into the castle, where he found no trace of his daughter and questioned her women, who answered, “We wot not how or whither she went; this place misliked her and she tarried in it but a short time.” Whereupon he wept sore and repeated these couplets,
“Ho thou, the house, whose birds were singing gay,
Whose sills their wealth and pride were wont display!
Till came the lover wailing for his love,
And found thy doors wide open to the way;
Would Heaven I knew where is my soul that erst
Was homed in house, whose owners fared away!
’Twas stored with all things bright and beautiful,
And showed its porters ranged in fair array:
They clothed it with brocades a bride become;2
Would I knew whither went its lords, ah, say!”
After ending his verses he again shed tears, and groaned and bemoaned himself, exclaiming, “There is no deliverance from the destiny decreed by Allah; nor is there any escape from that which He hath predestined!” Then he went up to the roof and found the strips of Ba’albak stuff tied to the crenelles and hanging down to the ground, and thus it was he knew that she had descended thence and had fled forth, as one distracted and demented with desire and passion. Presently, he turned and seeing there two birds, a gor-crow and an owl he justly deemed this an omen of ill; so he groaned and recited these couplets,
“I came to my dear friends’ door, of my hopes the goal,
Whose sight mote assuage my sorrow and woes of soul:
No friends found I there, nor was there another thing
To find, save a corby-crow and an ill-omened owl.
And the tongue o’ the case to me seemed to say,
‘Indeed This parting two lovers fond was cruel and foul!
So taste thou the sorrow thou madest them taste and live
In grief: wend thy ways and now in thy sorrow prowl!’”
Then he descended from the castle-roof, weeping, and bade the servants fare forth and search the mount for their mistress; so they sought for her, but found her not. Such was their case; but as regards Uns al-Wujud, when he was certified that Rose-in-Hood was indeed gone, he cried with a great cry and fell down in a fainting-fit, nor came to himself for a long time, whilst the folk deemed that his spirit had been withdrawn by the Compassionating One; and that he was absorbed in contemplation of the splendour, majesty and beauty of the Requiting One. Then, despairing of finding Uns al-Wujud, and seeing that the Wazir Ibrahim was distracted for the loss of his daughter, the Minister of King Dirbas addressed himself to return to his own country, albeit he had not attained the object of his journey, and while bidding his companion adieu, said to him, “I have a mind to take the Fakir with me; it may be Allah Almighty will incline the King’s heart to me by his blessing, for that he is a holy man; and thereafter, I will send him to Ispahan, which is near our country.” “Do as thou wilt,” answered Ibrahim. So they took leave of each other and departed, each for his own mother land, the Wazir of King Dirbas carrying with him Uns al-Wujud — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Majzub”=drawn, attracted (literally); the popular term for one absorbed in the contemplation of the Deity. During this process the soul is supposed to quit the body leaving the latter irresponsible for its actions. I remember a scandal being caused in a village near Tunis by one of these men who suddenly started up from his seat in a dusty corner and, in presence of a small crowd of people, had connection with a she-donkey. The supporters of the holy man declared that the deed was proof positive of his exceptional holiness; but there were lewd fellows, Moslems Voltaireans, who had their doubts and held that the reverend man had so acted “for the gallery.” A similar story is told with due reserve by the late Abbe Hamilton in his book on the Cyrenaic. There are three grand divisions of the Sufis; (1) Mukiman, the stationaries; (2) Salikan, the travellers, or progressives, and (3) Wasilan, those who reach the desired end. And No. 2 has two classes: the Salik-i-majzub, one progressing in Divine Love; and the other, who has made greater progress, is the Majzub-i-Salik (Dabistan iii. 251).
2 Arab. “Sundus,” a kind of brocade (low Lat. brocare to figure cloth), silk worked in high relief with gold and silver. The idea is figurative meaning it was hung outside and inside with fine stuff, like the Ka’abah, the “Bride of Meccah.” The “lords” means simply the lost girl.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir of King Dirbas carried with him Uns al-Wujud who was still insensible. They bore him with them on mule-back (he unknowing if he were carried or not) for three days, when he came to himself and said, “Where am I?” “Thou art in company with the Minister of King Dirbas,” replied they and went and gave news of his recovering to the Wazir, who sent him rose-water and sherbet of sugar, of which they gave him to drink and restored him. Then they ceased not faring on till they drew near King Dirbas’s capital and the King, being advised of his Wazir’s coming, wrote to him, saying, “If Uns al-Wujud be not with thee, come not to me ever.” Now when the Wazir read the royal mandate, it was grievous to him, for he knew not that Rose-in-Hood was with the King, nor why he had been sent in quest of Uns al-Wujud, nor the King’s reason for desiring the alliance; whilst Uns al-Wujud also knew not whither they were bearing him or that the Wazir had been sent in quest of him; nor did the Wazir know that the Fakir he had with him was Uns al-Wujud himself. And when the Minister saw that the sick man was whole, he said to him, “I was despatched by the King on an errand, which I have not been able to accomplish. So, when he heard of my return, he wrote to me, saying, ‘Except thou have fulfilled my need enter not my city.’” “And what is the King’s need?” asked Uns al-Wujud. So the Wazir told him the whole tale, and he said, “Fear nothing, but go boldly to the King and take me with thee; and I will be surety to thee for the coming of Uns al-Wujud.” At this the Wazir rejoiced and cried, “Is this true which thou sayest?” “Yes,” replied he; whereupon the Wazir mounted and carried him to King Dirbas who, after receiving their salutations said to him, “Where is Uns al-Wujud?” Answered the young man, “O King, I know where he is.” So the King called him to him and said, “Where?” Returned Uns al-Wujud, “He is near-hand and very near; but tell me what thou wouldst with him, and I will fetch him into thy presence.” The King replied, “With joy and good gree, but the case calleth for privacy.” So he ordered the folk to withdraw and, carrying Uns al-Wujud into his cabinet, told him the whole story; whereupon quoth the youth, “Robe me in rich raiment, and I will forthright bring Uns al-Wujud to thee.” So they brought him a sumptuous dress, and he donned it and said, “I am Uns al-Wujud, the World’s Delight, and to the envious a despite”; and presently he smote with his glances every sprite, and began these couplets to recite,
“My loved one’s name in cheerless solitude aye cheereth me
And driveth off my desperance and despondency:
I have no helper1 but my tears that ever flow in fount,
And as they flow, they lighten woe and force my grief to flee.
My longing is so violent naught like it ere was seen;
My love-tale is a marvel and my love a sight to see:
I spend the night with lids of eye that never close in sleep,
And pass in passion twixt the Hells and Edens heavenly.
I had of patience fairish store, but now no more have I;
And love’s sole gift to me hath been aye-growing misery:
My frame is wasted by the pain of parting from my own,
And longing changed my shape and form and made me other be.
Mine eyelids by my torrent tears are chafed, and ulcerate,
The tears, whose flow to stay is mere impossibility.
My manly strength is sore impaired for I have lost my heart;
How many griefs upon my griefs have I been doomed to dree!
My heart and head are like in age with similar hoariness
By loss of Beauty’s lord,2 of lords the galaxy:
Despite our wills they parted us and doomed us parted wone,
While they (our lords) desire no more than love in unity.
Then ah, would Heaven that I wot if stress of parting done,
The world will grant me sight of them in union fain and free —
Roll up the scroll of severance which others would unroll —
Efface my trouble by the grace of meeting’s jubilee!
And shall I see them homed with me in cup-company,
And change my melancholic mood for joy and jollity?”
And when he had ended his verses the King cried aloud, “By Allah, ye are indeed a pair of lovers true and fain and in Beauty’s heaven of shining stars a twain: your story is wondrous and your case marvellous.” Then he told him all that had befalled Rose-in-Hood; and Uns al-Wujud said, “Where is she, O King of the age?” “She is with me now,” answered Dirbas and, sending for the Kazi and the witnesses, drew up the contract of marriage between her and him. Then he honoured Uns al-Wujud with favours and bounties and sent to King Shamikh acquainting him with what had befallen, whereat this King joyed with exceeding joy and wrote back the following purport. “Since the ceremony of contract hath been performed at thy court, it behoveth that the marriage and its consummation be at mine.” Then he made ready camels, horses and men and sent them in quest of the pair; and when the embassy reached King Dirbas, he gave the lovers much treasure and despatched them to King Shamikh’s court with a company of his own troops. The day of their arrival was a notable day, never was seen a grander; for the King gathered together all the singing-women and players on instruments of music and made wedding banquets and held high festival seven days; and on each day he gave largesse to the folk and bestowed on them sumptuous robes of honour. Then Uns al-Wujud went in to Rose-in-Hood and they embraced and sat weeping for excess of joy and gladness, whilst she recited these couplets,
“Joyance is come, dispelling cark and care;
We are united, enviers may despair.
The breeze of union blows, enquickening
Forms, hearts and vitals, fresh with fragrant air:
The splendour of delight with scents appears,
And round us3 flags and drums show gladness rare.
Deem not we’re weeping for our stress of grief;
It is for joy our tears as torrents fare:
How many fears we’ve seen that now are past!
And bore we patient what was sore to bear:
One hour of joyance made us both forget
What from excess of terror grey’d our hair.”
And when the verses were ended, they again embraced and ceased not from their embrace, till they fell down in a swoon — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ayn” lit. eye, also a fount, “the eye of the landscape” (a noble simile); and here a helper, guard, assistant.
2 “Lord” for lady, i.e. she.
3 Arab. “Fi’l-khawafik”=in the four quarters or among the flappers (standards) or amid palpitations of heart. The bride alludes to a festal reception in a town, with burning incense, drums, flags, etc., etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Uns al- Wujud and Rose-in-Hood embraced when they foregathered and ceased not from their embrace, till they fell down in a swoon for the delight of reunion; and when they came to themselves, Uns al-Wujud recited these couplets,
“How joyously sweet are the nights that unite,
When my dearling deigns keep me the troth she did plight;
When union conjoins us in all that we have,
And parting is severed and sundered from sight,
To us comes the world with her favour so fair,
After frown and aversion and might despight!
Hath planted her banner Good Fortune for us,
And we drink of her cup in the purest delight.
We have met and complained of the pitiful Past,
And of nights a full many that doomed us to blight.
But now, O my lady, the Past is forgot;
The Compassionate pardon the Past for unright!
How sweet is existence, how glad is to be!
This union my passion doth only incite.”
And when he ended his verses they once more embraced, drowned in the sea of passion; and lay down together in the private apartment carousing and conversing and quoting verses and telling pleasant tales and anecdotes. On this wise seven days passed over them whilst they knew not night from day and it was to them, for very stress of gaiety and gladness, pleasure and possession, as if the seven days were but one day with ne’er a morrow. Not did they know the seventh day,1 but by the coming of the singers and players on instruments of music; whereat Rose-in-Hood beyond measure wondered and improvised these couplets,
“In spite of enviers’ jealousy, at end
We have won all we hoped of the friend:
We’ve crowned our meeting with a close embrace
On quilts where new brocades with sendal blend;
On bed of perfumed leather, which the spoils
Of downy birds luxuriously distend.
But I abstain me from unneeded wine,
When honey-dews of lips sweet musk can lend:
Now from the sweets of union we unknow
Time near and far, if slow or fast it wend,
The seventh night hath come and gone, O strange!
How went the nights we never reckt or kenned;
Till, on the seventh wishing joy they said,
‘Allah prolong the meet of friend with friend!’”
When she had finished her song, Uns al-Wujud kissed her, more than an hundred times, and recited these couplets,
“O day of joys to either lover fain!
The loved one came and freed from lonely pain:
She blest me with all inner charms she hath;
And companied with inner grace deep lain:
She made me drain the wine of love till I,
Was faint with joys her love had made me drain:
We toyed and joyed and on each other lay;
Then fell to wine and soft melodious strain:
And for excess of joyance never knew,
How went the day and how it came again.
Fair fall each lover, may he union win
And gain of joy like me the amplest gain;
Nor weet the taste of severance’ bitter fruit
And joys assain them as they us assain!”
Then they went forth and distributed to the folk alms and presents of money and raiment and rare gifts and other tokens of generosity; after which Rose-in-Hood bade clear the bath for her2 and, turning to Uns al-Wujud said to him, “O coolth of my eyes, I have a mind to see thee in the Hammam, and therein we will be alone together.” He joyfully consented to this, and she let scent the Hammam with all sorts of perfumed woods and essences, and light the wax-candles. Then of the excess of her contentment she recited these couplets,
“O who didst win my love in other date
(And Present e’er must speak of past estate);
And, oh! who art my sole sufficiency,
Nor want I other friends with me to mate:
Come to the Hammam, O my light of eyes,
And enter Eden through Gehenna-gate!
We’ll scent with ambergris and aloes-wood
Till float the heavy clouds with fragrant freight;
And to the World we’ll pardon all her sins
And sue for mercy the Compassionate;
And I will cry, when I descry thee there,
‘Good cheer, sweet love, all blessings on thee wait!’”3
Whereupon they arose and fared to the bath and took their pleasure therein; after which they returned to their palace and there abode in the fulness of enjoyment, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of societies; and glory be to Him who changeth not neither ceaseth, and to whom everything returneth! And they also tell a tale of
1 In Egypt the shorter “honey-moon” lasts a week; and on the seventh day (pop. called Al–Subu’a) bride and bridegroom receive visits with all ceremony, of course in separate apartments. The seventh day (like the fortieth, the end of six months and the anniversary) is kept for births and deaths with Khatmahs (perlections) of the Koran “Saylah” family gatherings and so forth. The fortieth day ends the real honey-moon. See Night dccxcii.
2 I have noted the popular practice, amongst men as well as women, of hiring the Hammam for private parties and picnicking in it during the greater part of the day. In this tale the bath would belong to the public and it was a mere freak of the bride to bathe with her bridegroom. “Respectable” people do not.
3 She speaks in the last line as the barber or the bathman.
Abu Nowas one day shut himself up and, making ready a richly-furnished feast, collected for it meats of all kinds and of every colour that lips and tongue can desire. Then he went forth, to seek a minion worthy of such entertainment, saying, “Allah, my Lord and my Master, I beseech Thee to send me one who befitteth this banquet and who is fit to carouse with me this day!” Hardly had he made an end of speaking when he espied three youths handsome and beardless, as they were of the boys of Paradise,2 differing in complexion but fellows in incomparable beauty; and all hearts yearned with desire to the swaying of their bending shapes, even to what saith the poet,
“I passed a beardless pair without compare
And cried, ‘I love you, both you ferly fir!’
‘Money’d?’ quoth one: quoth I, ‘And lavish too;’
Then said the fair pair, ‘Pere, c’est notre affaire.’”
Now Abu Nowas was given to these joys and loved to sport and make merry with fair boys and cull the rose from every brightly blooming check, even as saith the bard,
Full many a reverend Shaykh feels sting of flesh,
Loves pretty faces, shows at Pleasure’s depot:
Awakes in Mosul,3 land of purity;
And all the day dreams only of Aleppo.4
So he accosted them with the salutation, and they returned his greeting with civility and all honour and would have gone their several ways, but he stayed them, repeating these couplets,
“Steer ye your steps to none but me
Who hath a mine of luxury:-
Old wine that shines with brightest blee
Made by the monk in monastery;
And mutton-meat the toothsomest
And birds of all variety.
Then eat of these and drink of those
Old wines that bring you jollity:
And have each other, turn by turn,
Shampooing this my tool you see.”5
Thereupon the youths were beguiled by his verses and consented to his wishes — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Here the “Ana” begin; and they mostly date themselves. Of the following forty-nine, Lane (vol. Ii. P. 578 et seq.) gives only twenty-two and transforms them to notes in chapt. xviii. He could hardly translate several of them in a work intended to be popular. Abu Nowás is a person carefully to be avoided; and all but anthropological students are advised to “skip” over anecdotes in which his name and abominations occur.
2 Arab. “Ghilmán,” the counter part, I have said, of the so-called “Houris.”
3 Mosul boasts of never having been polluted with idolatrous worship, an exemption which it owes to being a comparatively modern place.
4 The Aleppines were once noted for debauchery; and the saying is still “Halabi Shelebi” (for Chelebi)=the Aleppine is a fellow fine.
5 Mr. Payne omits the last line. It refers to what Persian boys call, in half-Turkish phrase, “Alish Takish,” each acting woman after he has acted man. The best wine is still made in monasteries and the co-called Sinai convent is world-famous for its “Ráki” distilled from raisins.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abu Nowas beguiled the youths with his wishes, saying, “We hear and obey;” and accompanied him to his lodging, where they found all ready that he had set forth in his couplets. They sat down and ate and drank and made merry awhile, after which they appealed to Abu Nowas to decide which of them was handsometh of face and shapliest of form. So he pointed to one of them and, having kissed him twice over, recited the following verses,
“I’ll ransom that beauty-spot with my soup;
Where’s it and where is a money-dole?1
Praise Him who hairless hath made that cheek
And bid Beauty bide in that mole, that mole!”
Then he pointed to another and, kissing his lips, repeated these couplets,
“And loveling weareth on his cheek a mole
Like musk, which virgin camphor ne’er lets off it:
My peepers marvel such a contrast seeing;
And cried the Mole to me, ‘Now bless the Prophet.’”2
Then he pointed to the third and, after kissing him half a score times repeated these couplets,
“Melted pure gold in silvern bowl to drain
The youth, whose fingers wore a winey stain:
He with the drawers3 served one cup of wine,
And served his wandering eyes the other twain.
A loveling, of the sons of Turks,4 a fawn
Whose waist conjoins the double Mounts Honayn.5
Could Eve’s corrupting daughers6 tempt my heart
Content with two-fold lure ‘twould bear the bane.
Unto Diyar-I-Bakr (‘maid-land ‘7 this one lures;
That lures to two-mosqued cities of the plain.”8
Now each of the youths had drunk two cups, and when it came to the turn of Abu Nowas, he took the goblet and repeated these couplets,
“Drink not strong wine save at the slender dearling’s hand;
Each like to other in all gifts the spirt grace:
For wine can never gladden toper’s heart and soul,
Unless the cup-boy show a bright and sparkling face.”
Then he drank off his cup and the bowl went round, and when it came to Abu Nowas again, joyance got the mastery of him and he repeated these couplets,
“For cup-friends cup succeeding cup assign,
Brimming with grape-juice, brought in endliess line,
By hand of brown-lipped9 Beauty who is sweet
At wake as apple or musk finest fine.10
Drink not the wine except from hand of fawn
Whose cheek to kiss is sweeter than the wine.”
Presently the drink got into his noddle, drunkenness mastered him and he knew not hand from head, so that he lolled from side to side in joy and inclined to the youths one and all, anon kissing them and anon embracing them leg overlying leg. And he showed no sense of sin or shame, but recited these couplets,
“None wotteth best joyance but generous youth
When the pretty ones deign with him company keep:
This sings to him, sings to him that, when he wants
A pick-me-up11 lying there all of a heap:
And when of a loveling he needeth a kiss,
He takes from his lips or a draught or a nip;
Heaven bless them! How sweetly my day with them sped;
A wonderful harvest of pleasure I reap:
Let us drink our good liquor both watered and pure,
And agree to swive all who dare slumber and sleep.”
While they were in this deboshed state behold, there came a knocking at the door; so they bade him who knocked enter, and behold, it was the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid. When they saw him, they all rose and kissed ground before him; and Abu Nowas threw off the fumes of the wine for awe of the Caliph, who said to him, “Holla, Abu Nowas!” He replied, “Adsum, at thy service, O Commander of the Faithful, whom Allah preserve!” The Caliph asked, “What state is this?” and the poet answered, “O Prince of True Believers, my state indubitably dispenseth with questions.” Quoth the Caliph, “O Abu Nowas, I have sought direction of Allah Almighty and have appointed thee Kazi of pimps and panders.” Asked he, “Dost thou indeed invest me with that high office, O Commander of the Faithful?”; and the Caliph answered “I do;” whereupon Abu Nowas rejoined, “O Commander of the Faithful, hast thou any suit to prefer to me?” Hereat the Caliph was wroth and presently turned away and left them, full of rage, and passed the night sore an-angered against Abu Nowas, who amid the party he had invited spent the merriest of nights and the jolliest and joyousest. And when day-break dawned and the star of morn appeared in sheen and shone, he broke up the sitting and, dismissing the youths, donned his court-dress and leaving his house set out for the palace of the Caliph. Now it was the custom of the Commander of the Faithful, when the Divan broke up, to withdraw to his sitting-saloon and summon thither his poets and cup-companions and musicians, each having his own place, which he might not overpass. So it happened that day, he retired to his saloom, and the friends and familiars came and seated themselves, each in his rank and degree. Presently, in walked Abu Nowas and was about to take his usual seat, when the Caliph cried to Masrur, the sworder, and bade him strip the poet of his clothes and bind an ass’s packsaddle on his back and a halter about his head and a crupper under his rump and lead him round to all the lodgings of the slave-girls, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. what a difference there is between them!
2 Arab. “Salli ala ‘l-Nabi,” a common phrase; meaning not only praise hm to avert the evil eye; but also used when one would impose silence upon a babbler. The latter will shuffle off by ejaculating “Al” and continue his chatter. (Pilgrimage ii.279.)
3 Arab. “Sukát” (plur. of Sáki, cupbearer, our old “skinker”): the pure gold (tibr) is the amber-coloured wine, like the Vino d’oro of the Libanus.
4 That is, fair, white and read: Turkish slaves then abounded at Baghdad.
5 A Wady near Meccah where one of Mohammed’s battles was fought. The line means his waist is a thread connected broad breast and large hind quarters.
6 Arab. “Zaurá” which may mean crooked, alluding to the well-known rib.
7 A pun. Bakr was the name of the eponymus chief and it also means virgin, as in Abu Bakr.
8 Arab. “Jámi’ayn”=two cathedrals, any large (and consequently vicious) city.
9 Arab. “Almá,” before noticed: I cannot translate “damask-lipped” to suit European taste.
10 Sherbet flavoured with musk or apple to cool the mouth of “hot coppers.”
11 Arab. “In’ásh” lit. raising from his bier. The whole tone is rollicking and slangy.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph commanded Masrur, the sworder, to strip Abu Nowas of his court-suit and bind an ass’s packsaddle on his back and a halter about his head, and a crupper under his rump and lead him round to all the lodgings of the slave-girls, and the chambers of the Harim, that the women might make mock of him; then cut off his head and bring it to him. “Hearkening and obedience,” replied Masrur and, doing with Abu Nowas as the Caliph had bidden him, led him round all the chambers whose number equalled the days of the year; but Abu Nowas was a funny fellow, so he made all the girls laugh with his buffooneries and each gave him something whereby he returned not save with a pocketful of money. And while this was going on behold, Ja’afar the Barmecide, who had been absent on an important business for the Commander of the Faithful, entered and recognising the poet, albeit in this plight, said to him, “Holla, Abu Nowas!” He said, “Here at thy service, O our lord.” Ja’afar asked, “What offence hast thou committed to bring this punishment on thee?” Thereupon he answered, “None whatsoever, except that I made our lord the Caliph a present of the best of my poetry and he presented me, in return, with the best of his raiment.” When the Prince of True Believers head this, he laughed, from a heart full of wrath,1 and pardoned Abu Nowas, and also gave him a myriad of money. And they also recount the tale of
1 i.e. In spite of himself: the phrase often occurs.
A certain man of Bassorah once bought a slave-girl and reared and educated her right well. Moreover, he loved her very dearly and spent all his substance in pleasuring and merry-making with her, til he had naught left and extreme poverty was sore upon him. So she said to him, “O my master, sell me; for thou needest my price and it maketh my heart ache to see thy sorry and want-full plight. If thou vend me and make use of my value, ’twill be better for thee than keeping me by thee, and haply Almighty Allah will ample thee and amend thy fortune.” He agreed to this for the straitness of his case, and carried her to the bazar, where the broker offered her for sale to the Governor of Bassorah, by name Abdallah bin Ma’amar al-Taymi, and she pleased him. So he bought her, for five hundred dinars and paid the sum to her master; but when he book the money and was about to go away, the girl burst into tears and repeated these two couplets,
“May coins though gainest joy in heart instil;
For me remaineth naught save saddest ill:
I say unto my soul which sorely grieves,
‘Thy friend departeth an thou will nor nill.’”
And when her master heard this, he groaned and replied in these couplets,
“Albeit this thy case lack all resource,
Nor findeth aught but death’s doom, pardon still;
Evening and morning, thoughts of thee will dole
Comfort to heart all woes and griefs full fill:
Peace be upon thee! Meet we now no more
Nor pair except at Ibn Ma’amar’s will.”
Now when Abdullah bin Ma’amar heard these verses and saw their affection, he exclaimed, “By Allah, I will not assist fate in separating you; for it is evident to me that ye two indeed love each other. So take the money and the damsel, O man, and Allah bless thee in both; for verily parting be grievous to lovers.” So they kissed his hand and going away, ceased not to dwell together, till death did them part; and glory be to Him whom death over-taketh not! And amonst stories is that of
There was once, among the Banu Ozrah, a handsome and accomplished man, who was never a single day out of love, and it chanced that he became enamoured of a beauty of his own tribe and sent her many messages; but she ceased not to entreat him with cruelty and disdain; till, for stress of love and longing and desire and distraction, he fell sick of a sore sickness and took to his pillow and murdered sleep. His malady redoubled on him and his torments increased and he was well nigh dead when his case became known among the folk and his passion notorious; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Europeans usually write “Beni” for “Banu;” the oblique for the nominative. I prefer “Odhrah” or “Ozrah” to Udhrah; because the Ayn before the Zál takes in pronunciation the more open sound.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the man took to his pillow and murdered sleep. So his case became known and his passion notorious; and his infirmity grew upon him and his pains redoubled until he was well nigh dead. His family and hers were urgent with her to visit him, but she refused, till he was at the point of death when, being told of this, she relented towards him and vouchsafed him a visit. As soon as he saw her, his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated from a broken heart,
“An, by thy life, pass thee my funeral train,
A bier upborne upon the necks of four,
Wilt thou not follow it, and greet the grave
Where shall my corpse be graved for evermore?”
Hearing this, she wept with sore weeping and said to him, “By Allah, I suspected not that passion had come to such a pass with thee, as to cast thee into the arms of death! Had I wist of this, I had been favourable to thy wish, and thou shouldst have had thy will.” At this his tears streamed down even as the clouds rail rain, and he repeated this verse,
“She drew near whenas death was departing us,
And deigned union grant when ‘twas useless all.”
Then he groaned one groan and died. So she fell on him, kissing him and weeping and ceased not weeping until she swooned away; and when she came to herself, she charged her people to bury her in his grave and with streaming eyes recited these two couplets,
“We lived on earth a life of fair content;
And tribe and house and home of us were proud;
But Time in whirling flight departed us,
To join us now in womb of earth and shroud.1”
Then she fell again to weeping, nor gave over shedding tears and lamenting till she fainted away; and she lay three days, senseless. Then she died and was buried in his grave. This is one of the strange chances of love.2 And I have heard related a tale of the
1 Possibly meaning that they were shrouded together; this would be opposed to Moslem sense of decorum in modern days, but the ancient were not so squeamish. See Night cccxi.
2 This phase of passion in the “varium et mutabile” is often treated of by Oriental storytellers, and not unoften seen in real Eastern life.
It is said that Badr al-Din, Wazir of Al–Yaman, had a young brother of singular beauty and kept strait watch over him; so he applied himself to seek a tutor for him and, coming upon a Shaykh of dignified and reverend aspect, chaste and religious, lodged him in a house next his own. This lasted a long time, and he used to come daily from his dwelling to that of Sáhib1 Badr al-Din and teach the young brother. After a while, the old man’s heart was taken with love for the youth, and longing grew upon him and his vitals were troubled, till one day, he bemoaned his case to the boy, who said, “What can I do, seeing that I may not leave my brother night or day? and thou thyself seest how careful he is over me.” Quoth the Shaykh, “My lodging adjoineth thine; so there will be no difficulty, when thy brother sleepeth, to rise and, entering the privy, feign thyself asleep. Then come to the parapet2 of the terrace-roof and I will receive thee on the other side of the wall; so shalt thou sit with me an eye-twinkling and return without thy brother’s knowledge.” “I hear and obey,” answered the lad; and the tutor began to prepare gifts suitable to his degree. Now when a while of the night was past, he entered the water-closet and waited until his brother lay down on his bed and took patience till he was drowned in sleep, when he rose and going to the parapet of the terrace-roof, found standing there to await him the old man, who gave him his hand and carried him to the sitting-chamber, where he had made ready various dainties for his entertainment, and they sat down to carouse. Now it was the night of the full moon and, as they sat with the wine-cup going round, her rays shone upon them, and the governor fell to singing. But, whilst they were thus in joy and jollity and mirth and merriment, such as confoundeth the wit and the sight and defieth description, lo! the Wazir awoke and, missing his brother, arose in affright and found the door open. So he went up to the roof and hearing a noise of talk, climbed over the parapet to the adjoining terrace and saw a light shining from the lodging. He looked in from behind the wall, and espied his brother and his tutor sitting at carouse; but the Shaykh became aware of him and sang cup in hand, to a lively measure these couplets,
“He made me drain his wine of honeyed lips,
Toasting with cheeks which rose and myrtle smother:
Then nighted in embrace, cheek to my cheek,
A loveling midst mankind without another.
When the full moon arose on us and shone
Pray she traduce us not to the big brother.”
And it proved the perfect politeness of the Wazir Badr al-Din that, when he heard this, he said, “By Allah, I will not betray you!” And he went away and left them to their diversions. They also tell a tale concerning
1 As has been said, “Sáhib” (preceding the name not following it as in India) is a Wazirial title in mediæval Islam.
2 This parapet was rendered obligatory by Moses (Deut. xxii. 8) on account of the danger of leaving a flat roof without garde-fou. Eastern Christians neglect the precaution and often lose their children by the neglect.
A free boy and a slave-girl once learnt together in school, and the boy fell passionately in love with the girl. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the lad fell passionately in love with the slave-lass: so one day, when the other boys were heedless, he took her tablet1 and wrote on it these two couplets,
“What sayest thou of him by sickness waste,
Until he’s clean distraught for love of thee?
Who in the transport of his pain complains,
Nor can bear load of heart in secrecy?”
Now when the girl took her tablet, she read the verses written thereon and understanding them, wept for ruth of him; then she wrote thereunder these two couplets,
“An if we behold a lover love-fordone
Desiring us, our favours he shall see:
Yea, what he wills of us he shall obtain,
And so befal us what befalling be.”
Now it chanced that the teacher came in on them and taking the tablet, unnoticed, read what was written thereon. So he was moved to pity of their case and wrote on the tablet beneath those already written these two couplets addressed to the girl,
“Console thy lover, fear no consequence;
He is daft with loving lowe’s insanity;
But for the teacher fear not aught from him;
Love-pain he learned long before learnt ye.”
Presently it so happened that the girl’s owner entered the school about the same time and, finding the tablet, read the above verses indited by the boy, the girl and the schoolmaster; and wrote under them these two couplets,
“May Allah never make you parting dree
And be your censurer shamed wearily!
But for the teacher ne’er, by Allah, eye
Of mine beheld a bigger pimp than he!”
Then he sent for the Kazi and witnesses and married them on the spot. Moreover, he made them a wedding-feast and treated them with exceeding munificence; and they ceased not abiding together in joy and happiness, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies. And equally pleasant is the story of
1 Arab. “Lauh.” A bit of thin board washed white used for lessons as slates are amongst us, and as easily cleaned because the inks contain no minerals. It is a long parallelogram with triangular ears at the short sides; and the shape must date from ages immemorial as it is found, throughout Syria and its adjoinings, in the oldest rock inscriptions to which the form serves as a frame. Hence the “abacus” or counting table derived from the Gr., a slab (or in Phenician “sand”), dust or sand in old days having been strewed on a table or tablet for school-boys’ writings and mathematical diagrams.
It is related Al–Mutalammis1 once fled from Al–Nu’uman bin Munzir2 and was absent so long that folk deemed him dead. Now he had a beautiful wife, Umaymah by name, and her family urged her to marry again; but she refused, for that she loved her husband Al–Mutalammis very dearly. However, they were urgent with her, because of the multitude of her suitors, and importuned with her till at last she consented, albe reluctantly; and they espoused her to a man of her own tribe. Now on the night of the wedding, Al–Mutalammis came back and, hearing in the camp a noise of pipes and tabrets and seeing signs of a wedding festival, asked some of the children what was the merry-making, to which they replied, “They have married Umaymah wife of Al–Mutalammis, to such an one, and he goes in to her this night.” When he heard this, he planned to enter the house amongst the mob of women and saw the twain seated on the bridal couch.3 By and by, the bridegroom came up to her, whereupon she sighed heavily and weeping, recited this couplet,
“Would Heaven I knew (but many are the shifts of joy and woe)
In what far distant land thou art, my Mutalammis, oh!”
Now Al–Mutalammis was a renowned poet; so he answered her saying;
“Right near at hand, Umaymah mine! when’er the caravan
Halted, I never ceased for thee to pine, I would thou know.”
When the bridegroom heard this, he guessed how the case stood and went forth from them in haste improvising,
“I was in bestest luck, but now my luck goes contrary:
A hospitable house and room contain your loves, you two!”
And he returned not but left the twain to their privacy. So Al- Mutalammis and his wife abode together in all comfort and solace of life and in all its joys and jollities till death parted them. And glory be to Him at whose command the earth and the heavens shall arise! And among other tales is that of
1 A pre-Islamic bard and friend to Tarafah the poet of the Suspended or “Prize Poem.” The tale is familiar to all the Moslem East. Tarafah’s Laura was one Khaulá.
2 King of Hirah in Chaldæa, a drunken and bloodthirsty tyrant. When offended by the lampoons of the two poets he sent them with litteræ Bellerophontiæ to the Governor of Al–Bahrayn. Al–Mutalammis “smelt a rat” and destroyed his charged, but Tarafah was mutilated and buried alive, the victim of a trick which is old as (and older than) good King David and Uriah. Of course neither poet could read.
3 On this occasion, and in presence of the women only, the groom first sees or is supposed to see the face of his wife. It is, I have said, the fashion for both to be greatly overcome and to appear as if about to faint: the groom looks especially ridiculous when so attitudinising.
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid loved the Lady Zubaydah with exceeding love and laid out for her a pleasaunce, wherein he made a great tank and set thereabouts a screen of trees and led thither water from all sides; hence the trees grew and interlaced over the basin so densely, that one could go in and wash, without being seen of any, for the thickness of the leafage. It chanced, one day, that Queen Zubaydah entered the garden and, coming to the swimming-bath — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, “O auspicious King, that Queen Zubaydah entered the garden one day and, coming to the swimming-bath, gazed upon its goodliness; and the sheen of the water and the overshading of the trees pleased her. Now it was a day of exceeding heat; so she doffed her clothes and, entering the tank, which was not deep enough to cover the whole person, fell to pouring the water over herself from an ewer of silver. It also happened that the Caliph heard she was in the pool; so he left his palace and came down to spy upon her through the screen of the foliage. He stood behind the trees and espied her mother-nude, showing everything that is kept hidden. Presently, she became aware of him and turning, saw him behind the trees and was ashamed that he should see her naked. So she laid her hands on her parts, but the Mount of Venus escaped from between them, by reason of its greatness and plumpness; and the Caliph at once turned and went away, wondering and reciting this couplet,
“I looked on her with loving eyne
And grew anew my old repine:”
But he knew not what to say next; so he sent for Abu Nowas and said to him, “Make me a piece of verse commencing with this line.” “I hear and obey,” replied the poet and in an eye-twinkling extemporised these couplets,
“I looked on her with longing eyne
And grew anew my old repine
For the gazelle, who captured me
Where the two lotus-trees incline:
There was the water poured on it
From ewer of the silvern mine;
And seen me she had hidden it
But ‘twas too plump for fingers fine.
Would Heaven that I were on it,
An hour, or better two hours, li’en.”1
Thereupon the Commander of the Faithful smiled and made him a handsome present and he went away rejoicing. And I have heard another story of
1 This leisurely operation of the “deed of kind” was sure to be noticed; but we do not find in The Nights any allusion to that systematic prolongatio veneris which is so much cultivated by Moslems under the name Imsák = retention, withholding i.e. the semen. Yet Eastern books on domestic medicine consist mostly of two parts; the first of general prescriptions and the second of aphrodisiacs especially those qui prolongent le plaisir as did the Gaul by thinking of sa pauvre mère. The Ananga–Ranga, by the Reverend Koka Pandit before quoted, gives a host of recipes which are used, either externally or internally, to hasten the paroxysm of the woman and delay the orgasm of the man (p. 27). Some of these are curious in the extreme. I heard of a Hindi who made a candle of frogs’ fat and fibre warranted to retain the seed till it burned out; it failed notably because, relying upon it, he worked too vigorously. The essence of the “retaining art” is to avoid over-tension of the muscles and to pre-occupy the brain: hence in coition Hindus will drink sherbet, chew betel-nut and even smoke. Europeans ignoring the science and practice, are contemptuously compared with village-cocks by Hindu women who cannot be satisfied, such is their natural coldness, increased doubtless by vegetable diet and unuse of stimulants, with less than twenty minutes. Hence too while thousands of Europeans have cohabited for years with and have had families by “native women,” they are never loved by them:— at least I never heard of a case.
The Prince of True Believers, Caliph Harun al-Rashid, was exceeding restless one night; so he rose and walked about his palace, till he happened upon a handmaid overcome with wine. Now he was prodigiously enamoured of this damsel; so he played with her and pulled her to him, whereupon her zone fell down and her petticoat-trousers were loosed and he besought her of amorous favour. But she said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful wait till to-morrow night, for I am unprepared for thee, knowing not of thy coming.” So he left her and went away. But, when the morrow showed its light and the sun shone bright, he sent a page to her saying, “The Commander of the Faithful is about to visit thine apartment;” but she replied, “Day doth away with the promise of night.” So he said to his courtiers, “Make me somewhat of verse, introducing these words, ‘The Promise of Night is effaced by Day.’” Answered they, “We hear and obey,” and Al- Rakáshi1 came forward and recited the following couplets,
“By Allah, couldst thou but feel my pain,
Thy rest had turned and had fled away.
Hath left me in sorrow and love distraught,
Unseen and unseeing, that fairest may:
She promised me grace, then jilted and said,
‘The promise of night is effaced by day!’”
Then Abu Mus’ab came forward and recited these couplets,
“When wilt thou be wise and love-heat allay
That from food and sleeping so leads astray?
Suffices thee not ever weeping eye,
And vitals on fire when thy name they say?
He must smile and laugh and in pride must cry
‘The promise of Night is effaced by Day.’”
Last came Abu Nowas and recited the following couplets,
“As love waxt longer less met we tway
And fell out, but ended the useless fray;
One night in the palace I found her fou’;
Yet of modesty still there was some display:
The veil from her shoulders had slipt; and showed
Her loosened trousers Love’s seat and stay:
And rattled the breezes her huge hind cheeks
And the branch where two little pomegranates lay:
Quoth I, ‘Give me tryst;’ whereto quoth she
To-morrow the fane shall wear best array:’
Next day I asked her, ‘Thy word?’ Said she
‘The promise of Night is effaced by Day.’”
The Caliph bade give a myriad of money each to Al–Rakashi and Abu Mus’ab, but bade strike off the head of Abu Nowas, saying, “Thou wast with us yesternight in the palace.” Said he, “By Allah, I slept not but in my own house! I was directed to what I said by thine own words as to the subject of the verse; and indeed quoth Almighty Allah (and He is the truest of all speakers): ‘As for poets (devils pursue them!) dost thou not see that they rove as bereft of their senses through every valley and that they say that which they do not?’”2 So the Caliph forgave him and gave him two myriads of money. And another tale is that of
1 Abu ‘l Abbas al-Rakáshi, a poet of the time. The saying became proverbial (Burckhardt’s A. Proverbs No. 561) and there are variants, e.g. The night’s promise is spread with butter that melteth when day ariseth.
2 Koran xxvi. 5,6 or “And those who err (Arab. Al-gháwún) follow the footsteps of the poets,” etc.
It is told of Mus’ab bin al-Zubayr1 that he met in Al-Medinah Izzah, who was one of the shrewdest of women, and said to her, “I have a mind to marry Ayishah2 daughter of Talhah, and I should like thee to go herwards and spy out for me how she is made.” So she went away and returning to Mus’ab, said, “I have seen her, and her face is fairer than health; she hath large and well-opened eyes and under them a nose straight and smooth as a cane; oval cheeks and a mouth like a cleft pomegranate, a neck as a silver ewer and below it a bosom with two breasts like twin- pomegranates and further down a slim waist and a slender stomach with a navel therein as it were a casket of ivory, and back parts like a hummock of sand; and plumply rounded thighs and calves like columns of alabaster; but I saw her feet to be large, and thou wilt fall short with her in time of need.” Upon this report he married her — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Izzah this wise reported of Ayishah bint Talhah, Mus’ab married her and went in to her. And presently Izzah invited Ayishah and the women of the tribe Kuraysh to her house, when Ayishah sang these two couplets with Mus’ab standing by,
“And the lips of girls, that are perfume sweet;
So nice to kiss when with smiles they greet:
Yet ne’er tasted I them, but in thought of him;
And by thought the Ruler rules worldly seat.”
The night of Mus’ab’s going in unto her, he departed not from her, till after seven bouts; and on the morrow, a freewoman of his met him and said to him, “May I be thy sacrifice! Thou art perfect, even in this.” And a certain woman said, “I was with Ayishah, when her husband came in to her, and she lusted for him; so he fell upon her and she snarked and snorted and made use of all wonder of movements and marvellous new inventions, and I the while within hearing. So, when he came out from her, I said to her, ‘How canst thou do thus with thy rank and nobility and condition, and I in thy house?’ Quoth she, ‘Verily a woman should bring her husband all of which she is mistress, by way of excitement and rare buckings and wrigglings and motitations.1 What dislikest thou of this?’ And I answered ‘I would have this by nights.’ Rejoined she, ‘Thus is it by day and by night I do more than this; for when he seeth me, desire stirreth him up and he falleth in heat; so he putteth it out to me and I obey him, and it is as thou seest.’” And there also hath reached me an account of
1 The Calc. Edit. by mistake reads “Izzah.” Torrens (notes i.-xi.) remarks “The word Ghoonj is applied to this sort of blandishment (i.e. an affected gait), and says Burckhardt (Prov. No. 685), “The women of Cairo flatter themselves that their Ghoonj is superior to that of all other females in the Levant.” But Torrens did not understand and Burckhardt would not explain “Ghunj” except by “assumed airs” (see No. 714). It here means the art of moving in coition, which is especially affected, even by modest women, throughout the East and they have many books teaching the genial art. In China there are professors, mostly old women, who instruct young girls in this branch of the gymnastic.
Abu al-Aswad bought a native-born slave-girl, who was blind of an eye, and she pleased him; but his people decried her to him; whereat he wondered and, turning the palms of his hands upwards,1 recited these two couplets,
“They find me fault with her where I default ne’er find,
Save haply that a speck in either eye may show:
But if her eyes have fault, of fault her form hath none,
Slim-built above the waist and heavily made below.”
And this is also told of
1 When reciting the Fátihah (opening Koranic chapter), the hands are held in this position as if to receive a blessing falling from Heaven; after which both palms are passed down the face to distribute it over the eyes and other organs of sense.
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid lay one night between two slave-girls, one from Al–Medinah and the other from Cufa and the Cufite rubbed his hands, whilst the Medinite rubbed his feet and made his concern1 stand up. Quoth the Cufite, “I see thou wouldst keep the whole of the stock-in-trade to thyself; give me my share of it.” And the other answered, “I have been told by Málik, on the authority of Hishám ibn Orwah,2 who had it of his (grand) father, that the Prophet said, ‘Whoso quickeneth the dead, the dead belongeth to him and is his.’ But the Cufite took her unawares and, pushing her away, seized it all in her own hand and said, “Al-A’amash telleth us, on the authority of Khaysamah, who had it of Abdallah bin Mas’ud, that the Prophet declared, ‘Game belongeth to him who taketh it, not to him who raiseth it.’” And this is also related of
1 The word used is “bizá‘at” = capital or a share in a mercantile business.
2 This and the following names are those of noted traditionists of the eighth century, who derive back to Abdallah bin Mas’úd, a “Companion of the Apostle.” The text shows the recognised formula of ascription for quoting a “Hadís” = saying of Mohammed; and sometimes it has to pass through half a dozen mouths.
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid once slept with three slave-girls, a Meccan, a Medinite and an Irakite. The Medinah girl put her hand to his yard and handled it, whereupon it rose and the Meccan sprang up and drew it to herself. Quoth the other, “What is this unjust aggression? A tradition was related to me by Málik1 after Al–Zuhri, after Abdallah ibn Sálim, after Sa’íd bin Zayd, that the Apostle of Allah (whom Allah bless and keep!) said: ‘Whoso enquickeneth a dead land, it is his.’ And the Meccan answered, “It is related to us by Sufyán, from Abu Zanád, from Al-A’araj, from Abu Horayrah, that the Apostle of Allah said: ‘The quarry is his who catcheth it, not his who starteth it.’” But the Irak girl pushed them both away and taking it to herself, said, “This is mine, till your contention be decided.” And they tell a tale of
1 Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries who refer back to the “Father of the Kitten” (Abu Horayrah), an uncle of the Apostle.
There was a miller, who had an ass to turn his mill; and he was married to a wicked wife, whom he loved, while she hated him because she was sweet upon a neighbour, who misliked her and held aloof from her. One night, the miller saw, in his sleep, one who said to him, “Dig in such a spot of the ass’s round in the mill, and thou shalt find a hoard.” When he awoke, he told his wife the vision and bade her keep the secret; but she told her neighbour — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the miller’s wife told the secret to the neighbour whom she loved, thinking to win his favour; and he agreed with her to come to her by night. So he came and they dug in the mill and found the treasure and took it forth. Then he asked her, “How shall we do with this?” and she answered; “We will divide it into two halves and will share it equally between us, and do thou leave thy wife and I will cast about to rid me of my husband. Then shalt thou marry me and, when we are conjoined, we will join the two halves of the treasure one to other, and all will be in our hands.” Quoth he, “I fear lest Satan seduce thee and thou take some other man other than myself; for gold in the house is like the sun in the world. I reck, therefore, it were right that the money be all in my hands, so thou give thy whole mind to getting free of thy husband and coming to me.” Quoth she, “I fear even as thou fearest, nor will I yield up my part to thee; for it was I directed thee to it.” When he heard this, greed of gain prompted him to kill her; so he slew her and threw her body into the empty hoard-hole; but day overtook him and hindered him from covering it up; he therefore took the money and went his way. Now after a while the miller awoke and, missing his wife, went into the mill, where he fastened the ass to the beam and shouted to it. It went on a little, then stopped; whereupon he beat it grievously; but the more he bashed it, the more it drew back; for it was affrighted at the dead woman and could not go forward. Thereupon the Miller, unknowing what hindered the donkey, took out a knife and goaded it again and again, but still it would not budge. Then he was wroth with it, knowing not the cause of its obstinacy, and drove the knife into its flanks, and it fell down dead. But when the sun rose, he saw his donkey lying dead and likewise his wife in the place of the treasure, and great was his rage and sore his wrath for the loss of his hoard and the death of his wife and his ass. All this came of his letting his wife into his secret and not keeping it to himself.1 And I have heard this tale of
1 Eastern story-books abound in these instances. Pilpay says in “Kalilah was Dimnah,” “I am the slave of what I have spoken and the lord of what I keep hidden.” Sa’adi follows suit, “When thou speakest not a word, thou hast thy hand upon it; when it is once spoken it hath laid its hand on thee.” Caxton, in the “Dyctes, or Sayings of Philosophers” (printed in 1477) uses almost the same words.
A certain simpleton was once walking along, haling his ass after him by the halter, when a pair of sharpers saw him and one said to his fellow, “I will take that ass from yonder wight.” Asked the other, “How wilt thou do that?” “Follow me and I will show thee how,” answered the first. So the cony-catcher went up to the ass and, loosing it from the halter, gave the beast to his fellow; then he haltered his own head and followed Tom Fool till he knew the other had got clean off with the ass, when he stood still. The oaf haled at the halter, but the rascal stirred not; so he turned and seeing the halter on a man’s neck, said to him, “What art thou?” Quoth the sharper, “I am thine ass and my story is a wonderous one and ‘tis this. Know that I have a pious old mother and come in to her one day, drunk; and she said to me: ‘O my son, repent to the Almighty of these thy transgressions.’ But I took my staff and beat her, whereupon she cursed me and Allah changed me into an ass and caused me fall into thy hands, where I have remained till this moment. However, to-day, my mother called me to mind and her heart yearned towards me; so she prayed for me and the Lord restored me to my former shape amongst the sons of Adam.” Cried the silly one, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Allah upon thee, O my brother, acquit me of what I have done with thee in the way of riding and so forth.” Then he let the cony-catcher go and returned home, drunken with chagrin and concern as with wine. His wife asked him, “What aileth thee and where is the donkey?”; and he answered, “Thou knowest not what was this ass; but I will tell thee.” So he told her the story, and she exclaimed, “Alack and alas for the punishment we shall receive from Almighty Allah! How could we have used a man as a beast of burden, all this while? And she gave alms by way of atonement and prayed pardon of Heaven.1 Then the man abode awhile at home, idle and feckless, till she said to him, “How long wilt thou sit at home doing naught? Go to the market and buy us an ass and ply thy work with it.” Accordingly, he went to the market and stopped by the ass-stand, where behold, he saw his own ass for sale. So he went up to it and clapping his mouth to its ear, said to it, “Woe to thee, thou ne’er-do-well! Doubtless thou hast been getting drunk again and beating thy mother! But, by Allah, I will never buy thee more.”2 and he left it and went away. And they tell a tale concerning
1 i.e. for her husband’s and her sin in using a man like a beast.
2 See the Second Lady’s story (tantôt Kadi, tantôt bandit), pp. 20–26 by my friend Yacoub Artin Pasha in the Bulletin before quoted, series ii. No. 4 of 1883. The sharpers’ trick is common in Eastern folk-lore, and the idea that underlies is always metempsychosis or metamorphosis. So, in the Kalilah wa Dimnah (new Syriac), the three rogues persuade the ascetic that he is leading a dog not a sheep.
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid went up one noon-tide to his couch, to lie down; and mounting, found upon the bed-clothes semen freshly emitted; whereat he was startled and troubled with sore trouble. So he called the Lady Zubaydah and said to her, “What is that spilt on the bed?” She looked at it and replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, it is semen.” Quoth he, “Tell me truly what this meaneth or I will lay violent hands on thee forthright.” Quoth she, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, indeed I know not how it came there and I am guiltless of that whereof you suspectest me.” So he sent for the Kazi Abú Yúsuf and acquainted him of the case. The Judge raised his eyes to the ceiling and, seeing a crack therein, said to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, in very sooth the bat hath seed like that of a man,1 and this is bat’s semen.” Then he called for a spear and thrust it into the crevice, whereupon down fell the bat. In this manner the Caliph’s suspicions were dispelled — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is the popular prejudice and it has doubtless saved many a reputation. The bat is known to Moslems as the Bird of Jesus, a legend derived by the Koran from the Gospel of Infancy (1 chapt. xv. Hone’s Apocryphal New Testament), in which the boy Jesus amuses herself with making birds of clay and commanding them to fly when (according to the Moslems) they became bats. These Apocryphal Gospels must be carefully read, if the student would understand a number of Moslem allusions to the Injíl which no Evangel contains.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Kazi Abu Yusuf took the spear and thrust it into the crevice, down fell the bat, and thus the Caliph’s suspicions were dispelled and the innocence of Zubaydah was made manifest; whereat she gave loud and liberal vent to her joy and promised Abu Yusuf a magnificent reward. Now there were with her certain delicious fruits, out of their season, and she knew of others in the garden; so she asked Abu Yusuf, “O Imam of the Faith, which wouldst thou rather have of the two kinds of fruits, those that are here or those that are not here?” And he answered, “Our code forbiddeth us to pronounce judgement on the absent; whenas they are present, we will give our decision.” So she let bring the two kinds of fruits before him; and he ate of both. Quoth she, “What is the difference between them?” and quoth he, “As often as I think to praise one kind, the adversary putteth in its claim.” The Caliph laughed at his answer1 and made him a rich present; and Zubaydah also gave him what she had promised him, and he went away, rejoicing. See, then the virtues of this Imám and how his hands were manifest the truth and the innocence of the Lady Zubaydah. And amongst other stories is that of
1 Because it quibbled away out of every question, a truly diplomatic art.
The Caliph Al-Hákim bi-Amri’llah was riding out in state procession one day, when he passed along a garden, wherein he saw a man, surrounded by negro-slaves and eunuchs. He asked him for a draught of water, and the man gave him to drink, saying, “Belike, the Commander of the Faithful will honour me by alighting in this my garden.” So the Caliph dismounted and with his suite entered the garden; whereupon the said man brought out to them an hundred rugs and an hundred leather mats and an hundred cushions; and set before them an hundred dishes of fruits, an hundred bowls of sweetmeats and an hundred jars of sugared sherbets; at which the Caliph marvelled with much amaze and said to his host, “O man, verily this thy case is wondrous: didst thou know of our coming and make this preparation for us?” He replied, “No by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I knew not of thy coming and I am a merchant of the rest of thy subjects; but I have an hundred concubines; so, when the Commander of the Faithful honoured me by alighting with me, I sent to each of them, bidding her send me her morning-meal in the garden. So they sent me each of her furniture and the surplus of her meat and drink: and every day each sendeth me a dish of meat and another of cooling marinades, also a platter of fruits and a bowl of sweetmeats and a jar of sherbet. This is my noon-day dinner, nor have I added aught thereto for thee.” Then the Commander of the Faithful, Al–Hakim bi-Amri’llah prostrated himself in thanksgiving to the Almighty (extolled and exalted be His name!) and said, “Praise be Allah, who hath been so bountiful to one of our lieges, that he entertaineth the Caliph and his host, without making ready for them; nay, he feedeth them with the surplusage of his day’s provision!” Then he sent for all the dirhams in the treasury, that had been struck that year (and they were in number three thousand and seven hundred thousand); nor did he mount until the money came, when he gave it to the merchant, saying, “Use this as thy state may require; and thy generosity deserveth more than this.” Then he took horse and rode away. And I have heard a story concerning
1 This Caliph, the orthodox Abbaside of Egypt (A.D. 1261) must not be confounded with the Druze-god, the heretical Fatimite (A.D. 996–1021). D’Herbelot (Hakem”) gives details. Mr. S.L. Poole (The Academy, April 26, ‘79) is very severe on the slip of Mr. Payne.
The Just King, Kisrá Anúshirwán, one day rode forth to the chase and, in pursuit of a deer, became separated from his suite. Presently, he caught sight of a hamlet near hand and being sore athirst, he made for it and presenting himself at the door of a house that lay by the wayside, asked for a draught of water. So a damsel came out and looked at him; then, going back into the house, pressed the juice from a single sugar-cane into a bowl and mixed it with water; after which she strewed on the top some scented stuff, as it were dust, and carried it tot he King. Thereupon he seeing in it what resembled dust, drank it, little by little, till he came to the end; when said he to her, “O damsel, the drink is good, and how sweet it had been but for this dust in it that troubleth it.” Answered she, “O guest, I put in that powder for a purpose;” and he asked, “And why didst thou thus?”; so she replied, “I saw thee exceedingly thirsty and feared that thou wouldst drain the whole at one draught and that this would thee mischief; and but for this dust that troubled the drink so hadst thou done.” The Just King wondered at her words, knowing that they came of her wit and good sense, and said to her, “From how many sugar canes didst thou express this draught?” “One,” answered she; whereat Anushirwan marvelled and, calling for the register of the village taxes, saw that its assessment was but little and bethought him to increase it, on his return to his palace, saying in himself, “A village where they get this much juice out of one sugar-cane, why is it so lightly taxed?” He then left the village and pursued his chase; and, as he came back at the end of the day, he passed alone by the same door and called again for drink; whereupon the same damsel came out and, knowing him at a look, went in to fetch him water. It was some time before she returned and Anushirwan wondered thereat and said to her, “Why hast thou tarried?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The beautiful name is Persian “Anúshín-rawán” = Sweet of Soul; and the glorious title of this contemporary of Mohammed is “Al–Malik al-Adil” = the Just King. Kisra, the Chosroë per excellentiam, is also applied to the godly Guebre of whom every Eastern dictionary gives details.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Anushirwan hurried the damsel and asked her, “Why hast thou tarried?” she answered, “Because a single sugar-cane gave not enough for thy need; so I pressed three; but they yielded not to much as one did before.” Rejoined he, “What is the cause of that?”; and she replied, “The cause of it is that when the Sultan’s1 mind is changed against a folk, their prosperity ceaseth and their good waxeth less.” So Anushirwan laughed and dismissed from his mind that which he had purposed against the villagers. Moreover, he took the damsel to wife then and there, being pleased with her much wit and acuteness and the excellence of her speech. And they tell another tale of the
1 “Sultan” is here an anachronism: I have noted that the title was first assumed independently by Mohammed of Ghazni after it had been conferred by the Caliph upon his father the Amir Al- Umará (Mayor of the Palace), Sabuktagin A.D. 974.
There was once, in the city of Bokhara, a water-carrier, who used to carry water to the house of a goldsmith and had done this thirty years. Now that goldsmith had a wife of exceeding beauty and loveliness, brilliancy and perfect grace; and she was withal renowned for piety, chastity and modesty. One day the water- carrier came, as of custom, and poured the water into the cisterns. Now the woman was standing in the midst of the court; so he went close up to her and taking her hand, stroked it and pressed it, then went away and left her. When her husband came home from the bazar, she said to him, “I would have thee tell me what thing thou hast done in the market this day, to anger Almighty Allah.” Quoth he, “I have done nothing to offend the Lord.” “Nay,” rejoined she, “but, by Allah, thou hast indeed done something to anger Him; and unless thou tell me the whole truth, I will not abide in thy house, and thou shalt not see me, nor will I see thee.” So he confessed, “I will tell thee the truth of what I did this day. It so chanced that, as I was sitting in my shop, as of wont, a woman came up to me and bade me make her a bracelet of gold. Then she went away and I wrought her a bracelet and laid it aside. But when she returned and I brought her out the bracelet, she put forth her hand and I clasped the bracelet on her wrist; and I wondered at the whiteness of her hand and the beauty of her wrist, which would captivate any beholder; and I recalled what the poet saith,
‘Her fore-arms, dight with their bangles, show
Like fire ablaze on the waves a-flow;
As by purest gold were the water girt,
And belted around by a living lowe.’
So I took her hand and pressed it and squeezed it.” Said the woman, “Great God! Why didst thou this ill thing? Know that the water-carrier, who hath come to our house these thirty years, nor sawst thou ever any treason in him took my hand this day and pressed and squeezed it.” Said her husband, “O woman, let us crave pardon of Allah! Verily, I repent of what I did, and do thou ask forgiveness of the Lord for me.” She cried, “Allah pardon me and thee, and receive us into his holy keeping.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The “Sakká” or water-carrier race is peculiar in Egypt and famed for trickery and intrigue. Opportunity here as elsewhere makes the thief.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the goldsmith’s wife cried out, “Allah pardon me and thee, and receive us into his holy keeping!” And on the next day, the water-carrier came in to the jeweller’s wife and, throwing himself at her feet, grovelled in the dust and besought pardon of her, saying, “O my lady, acquit me of that which Satan deluded me to do; for it was he that seduced me and led me astray.” She answered, “Go thy ways, the sin was not in thee, but in my husband, for that he did what he did in his shop, and Allah hath retaliated upon him in this world.” And it related that the goldsmith, when his wife told him how the water-carrier had used her, said, “Tit for tat, and blow for blow!; had I done more the water-carrier had done more”; — which became a current byword among the folk. Therefore it behoveth a wife to be both outward and inward with her husband; contenting herself with little from him, if he cannot give her much, and taking pattern by Ayishah the Truthful and Fatimah the virgin mother (Allah Almighty accept of them the twain!), that she may be of the company of the righteous ancestry.1 And I have heard the following tale of
1 A famous saying of Mohammed is recorded when an indiscretion of his young wife Ayishah was reported to him, “There be no adultress without an adulterer (of a husband).” Fatimah the Apostle’s daughter is supposed to have remained a virgin after bearing many children: this coarse symbolism of purity was known to the classics (Pausanias), who made Juno recover her virginity by bathing in a certain river every year. In the last phrase, “Al–Salaf” (ancestry) refers to Mohammed and his family.
King Khusrau1 Shahinshah of Persia loved fish; and one day, as he sat in his saloon, he and Shirin his wife, there came a fisherman, with a great fish, and he laid it before the King, who was pleased and ordered the man four thousand dirhams.2 Thereupon Shirin said to the King, “Thou hast done ill.” Asked he, “And why?”, and she answered, “Because if, after this, though give one of thy courtiers a like sum, he will disdain it and say, ‘He hath but given me the like of what he gave the fisherman.’ And if thou give him less, the same will say, ‘He despiseth me and giveth me less than he gave the fisherman.’” Rejoined Khusrau, “Thou art right, but it would dishonour a king to go back on his gift; and the thing is done.” Quoth Shirin, “If thou wilt, I will contrive thee a means to get it back from him.” Quoth he, “How so?”; and she said, “Call back, if thou so please, the fisherman and ask him if the fish be male or female. If he say, ‘Male,’ say thou, ‘We want a female,’ and if he say, ‘Female,’ say, ‘We want a male.’” So the King sent for the fisherman, who was a man of wit and astuteness, and said to him, “Is this fish male or female?” whereupon the fisherman kissed the ground and answered, “This fish is an hermaphrodite,3 neither male nor female.” Khusrau laughed at his clever reply and ordered him other four thousand dirhams. So the fisherman went to the treasurer and, taking his eight thousand dirhams, put them in a sack he had with him. Then, throwing it over his shoulder, he was going away, when he dropped a dirham; so he laid the bag off his back and stooped down to pick it up. Now the King and Shirin were looking on, and the Queen said, “O King, didst thou note the meanness of the man, in that he must needs stoop down to pick up the one dirham, and could not bring himself to leave it for any of the King’s servants?” When the King heard these words, he was exceeding wroth with the fisherman and said, “Thou art right, O Shirin!” So he called the man back and said to him, “Thou low-minded carle! Thou art no man! How couldst thou put the bag with all this money off thy back and bend thee groundwards to pick up the one dirham and grudge to leave it where it fell?” Thereupon the fisherman kissed the earth before him and answered, “May Allah prolong the King’s life! Indeed, I did not pick up the dirham off the ground because of its value in my eyes; but I raised it off the earth because on one of its faces is the likeness of the King and on the other his name; and I feared lest any should unwittingly set foot upon it, thus dishonouring the name and presentment of the King, and I be blamed for this offence.” The King wondered at his words and approved of his wit and shrewdness, and ordered him yet another four thousand dirhams. Moreover, he bade cry abroad in his kingdom, saying, “It behoveth none to be guided by women’s counsel; for whoso followeth their advice, loseth, with his one dirham, other twain.”4 And here is the tale they tell of
1 Khusrau Parwiz, grandson of Anushirwan, the Guebre King who tore his kingdom by tearing Mohammed’s letter married the beautiful Maria or Irene (in Persian “Shírín = the sweet) daughter of the Greek Emperor Maurice: their loves were sung by a host of poets; and likewise the passion of the sculptor Farhád for the same Shirin. Mr. Lyall writes “Parwêz” and holds “Parwíz” a modern form.
2 he could afford it according to historians. His throne was supported by 40,000 silver pillars; and 1,000 globes, hung in the dome, formed an orrery, showing the motion of the heavenly bodies; 30,000 pieces of embroidered tapestry overhung the walls below were vaults full of silver, gold and gems.
3 Arab. “Khunsá,” meaning also a catamite as I have explained. Lane (ii. 586) has it; “This fish is of a mixed kind.” (!).
4 So the model lovers became the ordinary married couple.
Yahya bin Khálid the Barmecide was returning home, one day, from the Caliph’s palace, when he saw, at the gate of his mansion, a man who rose as he drew near and saluted him, saying, “O Yahya, I am in sore need of that which is in they hand, and I make Allah my intermediary with thee.” So Yahya caused a place to be set aside for him in his house and bade his treasurer carry him a thousand dirhams every day and ordered that his diet be of the choicest of his own meat. The man abode in this case a whole month, at the end of which time, having received in all thirty thousand dirhams and fearing lest Yahya should take the money from him, because of the greatness of the sum, he departed by stealth. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the man, taking with him the money, departed by stealth. But when they told Yahya of this, he said, “By Allah, though he had tarried with me to the end of his days, yet had I not stinted him of my largesse nor cut off from him the bounties of my hospitality!” For, indeed, the excellences of the Barmecides were past count nor can their virtues be committed to description, especially those of Yahya bin Khalid, for he was an ocean1 of noble qualities, even as saith the poet of him,
“I asked of Bounty, ‘Art thou free?’ Quoth she,
‘No, I am slave to Yahyá Khálid-son!’
‘Boughten?’ asked I. ‘Allah forfend,’ quoth she,
‘By heirship, sire to sire’s transmission!’”
And the following is related of
1 Arab. “Jamm.” Heb. “Yamm.” Al–Haríri (Ass. Of Sinjar and Sáwah) uses the rare form Yam for sea or ocean.
Ja’afar bin Musá al-Hádi1 once had a slave-girl, a lutist, called Al–Badr al-Kabír, than whom there was not in her time a fairer of face nor shapelier of shape nor a more elegant of manners nor a more accomplished in the art of singing and striking the strings; she was indeed perfect in beauty and extreme in every charm. Now Mohammed al-Amín,2 son of Zubaydah, heard of her and was urgent with Ja’afar to sell her to him; but he replied, “Thou knowest it beseemeth not one of my rank to sell slave-girls nor set prices on concubines; but were she not a rearling I would send her to thee, as a gift, not grudge her to thee.” And Mohammed al-Amin, some days after this went to Ja’afar’s house, to make merry; and the host set before him that which it behoveth to set before true friends and bade the damsel Al–Badr al-Kabir sing to him and gladden him. So she tuned the lute and sang with a ravishing melody; whilst Mohammed al-Amin fell to drinking and jollity and bade the cupbearers ply Ja’afar with much wine, till they made him drunken, when he took the damsel and carried her to his own house, but laid not a finger on her. And when the morrow dawned he bade invite Ja’afar; and when he came, he set wine before him and made the girl sing to him, from behind the curtain. Ja’afar knew her voice and was angered at this, but, of the nobleness of his nature and the magnanimity of his mind he showed no change. Now when the carousal was at an end, Al–Amin commanded one of his servants to fill the boat, wherein Ja’afar had come, with dirhams and dinars and all manner of jewels and jacinths and rich raiment and goods galore. So he laid therein a thousand myriads of money and a thousand fine pearls, each worth twenty thousand dirhams; nor did he give over loading the barge with all manner of things precious and rare, till the boatmen cried out for help, saying, “The boat can’t hold any more;” whereupon he bade them carry all this to Ja’afar’s palace. Such are the exploits of the magnanimous, Allah have mercy on them! And a tale is related of
1 Al–Hadi, immediate predecessor of Harun al-Rashid, called “Al–Atbik”: his upper lip was contracted and his father placed a slave over him when in childhood, with orders to say, “Musa! atbik!” (draw thy lips together) when he opened his mouth.
2 Immediate successor of Harun al-Rashid. Al–Amin is an imposing physical figure, fair, tall, handsome and of immense strength; according to Al–Mas’údi, he killed a lion with his own hands; but his mind and judgement were weak. He was fond of fishing; and his reply to the courtier bringing important news, “Confound thee! leave me! for Kausar (an eunuch whom he loved) hath caught two fish and I none,” reminds one of royal frivolity in France.
Quoth Sa’íd bin Sálim al’Báhilí,1 I was once in very narrow case, during the days of Harun al-Rashid, and debts accumulated upon me, burdening my back, and these I had no means of discharging. I was at my wits’ end what to do, for my doors were blocking up with creditors and I was without cease importuned for payment by claimants, who dunned me in crowds till at last I was sore perplexed and troubled. So I betook myself to Abdallah bin Málik al-Khuza’í2 and besought him to extend the hand of aid with his judgement and direct me of his good counsel to the door of relief; and he said, ‘None can save thee from this thy strait and sorrowful state save the Barmecides.’ Quoth I, ‘Who can brook their pride and put up patiently with their arrogant pretensions?’ and quoth he, ‘Thou wilt put up with all this for the bettering of thy case.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdallah ibn Malik al-Khuza’i said to Sa’id bin Salim, “Thou wilt put up with all this for the bettering of thy case.” “So I left him suddenly (continued Sa’id) and went straight to Al–Fazl and Ja’afar, sons of Yahyá bin Khálid, to whom I related my circumstances; whereto they replied, ‘Allah give thee His aid, and render thee by His bounties independent of His creatures and vouchsafe thee abundant weal and bestow on thee what shall suffice thee, without the need of any but Himself; for whatso He willeth that He can, and He is gracious with His servants and knoweth their wants.’ So I went out from the twain and returned to Abdallah, with straitened breast and mind perplexed and heavy of heart, and repeated to him what they had said. Quoth he, ‘Thou wouldst do well to abide with us this day, that we may see what Allah Almighty will decree.’ So I sat with him awhile, when lo! up came my servant, who said to me, ‘O my lord, there are at our door many laden mules and with them a man, who says he is the agent of Al–Fazl and Ja’afar bin Yahya.’ Quoth Abdallah, ‘I trust that relief is come to thee: rise up and go see what is the matter.’ So I left him and, hastening to my house, found at the door a man who gave me a note wherein was written the following: ‘After thou hadst been with us and we heard thy case, we betook ourselves to the Caliph and informed him that ill condition had reduced thee to the humiliation of begging; where upon he ordered us to supply thee with a thousand thousand dirhams from the Treasury. We represented to him: ‘The debtor will spend this money in paying off creditors and wiping off debt; whence then shall he provide for his subsistence? So he ordered thee other three hundred thousand, and each of us hath also sent thee, of his proper wealth, a thousand thousand dirhams: so that thou hast now three thousand thousand and three hundred thousand dirhams wherewithal to order and amend thine estate.’” See, then, the munificence of these magnificos: Almighty Allah have mercy on them! And a tale is told of
A man brought his wife a fish one Friday and, bidding her to cook it against the end of the congregational prayers, went out to his craft and business. Meanwhile in came her friend who bade her to a wedding at his house; so she agreed and, laying the fish in a jar of water, went off with him and was absent a whole week till the Friday following;1 whilst her husband sought her from house to house and enquired after her; but none could give him any tidings of her. Now on the next Friday she came home and he fell foul of her; but she brought out to him the fish alive from the jar and assembled the folk against him and told them her tale. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Moslem women have this advantage over their Western sisterhood: they can always leave the house of father or husband and, without asking permission, pay a week or ten days’ visit to their friends. But they are not expected to meet their lovers.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the woman brought out the fish alive from the water-jar and assembled the folk against her husband, and told them her tale. He also told his; but they credited him not and said, “It cannot be that the fish should have remained alive all this while.” So they proved him mad and imprisoned him and mocked at him, where upon he shed tears in floods and recited these two couplets,
“Old hag, of high degree in filthy life,
Whose face her monstrous lewdness witnesses.
When menstuous she bawds; when clean she whores;
And all her time bawd or adulteress is.”
And a tale is related of the
There was in times of yore and in ages long gone before, a virtuous woman among the children of Israel, who was pious and devout and used every day to go out to the place of prayer, first entering a garden, which adjoined thereto, and there making the minor ablution. Now there were in this garden two old men, its keepers, and both Shaykhs fell in love with her and sought her favours; but she refused, whereupon said they, “Unless thou yield thy body to us, we will bear witness against thee of fornication.” Quoth she, “Allah will preserve me from your frowardness!” Then they opened the garden-gate and cried out, and the folk came to them from all places, saying “What aileth you?” Quoth they, “We found this damsel in company with a youth who was doing lewdness with her; but he escaped from our hands.” Now it was the wont of the people in those days to expose adulterer and adulteress to public reproach for three days, and after stone them. So they cried her name in the public streets for three days, while the two elders came up to her daily and, laying their hands on her head, said, “Praised be Allah who hath sent down on thee His righteous indignation!” Now on the fourth day, when they bore her away to stone her, they were followed by a lad named Daniel, who was then only twelve years old, and this was to be the first of his miracles (upon our Prophet and upon him the blessing and peace!). And he ceased not following them to the place of execution, till he came up with them and said to them, “Hasten not to stone her, till I judge between them.” So they set him a chair and he sat down and summoned the old men separately. (Now he was the first ever separated witnesses.) Then said he to the first, “What sawest thou?”2 So he repeated to him his story, and Daniel asked, “In what part of the garden did this befal?” and he answered, “On the eastern side, under a pear-tree.” Then he called the other old man and asked him the same question, and he replied, “On the western side of the garden, under an apple-tree.” Meanwhile the damsel stood by, with her hands and eyes raised heavenwards, imploring the Lord for deliverance. Then Allah Almighty sent down His blasting leven-fire upon the elders and consumed them, and on this wise the Lord made manifest the innocence of the damsel. Such was the first of the miracles of the Prophet Daniel, on whom be blessing and peace! And they relate a tale of
1 The tale of “Susannah and the Elders” in Moslem form. Dániyál is the Arab Daniel, supposed to have been buried at Alexandria. (Pilgrimage, i. 16.)
2 According to Moslem law, laid down by Mohammed on a delicate occasion and evidently for a purpose, four credible witnesses are required to prove fornication, adultery, sodomy and so forth; and they must swear that actually saw rem in re, the “Kohl-needle in the Kohl-étui,” as the Arabs have it. This practically prevents conviction and the sabre cuts the Gordian knot.
The Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, went out one day, with Abu Ya’Kúb the cup-companion1 and Ja’afar the Barmecide and Abu Nowas, into the desert, where they fell in with an old man, propt against his ass. The Caliph bade Ja’afar learn of him whence he came; so he asked him, “Whence comest thou?” and he answered, “From Bassorah.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Who, in such case, would represent our equerry.
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ja’afar asked the man, “Whence comest thou?”; he answered “From Bassorah.” Quoth Ja’afar, “And whither goest thou?” Quoth the other, “To Baghdad.” Then Ja’afar enquired “And what wilt thou do there?” and the old man replied, “I go to seek medicine for my eye.” Said the Caliph, “O Ja’afar, make thou sport with him,” and answered Ja’afar, “I shall hear what I shall exceedingly mislike.”1 But Al–Rashid rejoined, “I charge thee on my authority, jest with him.” Thereupon Ja’afar said to the Badawi, “If I prescribe thee a medicine that shall profit thee, what wilt thou give me in return?” Quoth the other, “Allah Almighty will requite the kindness with what is better for thee than any requital of mine.” Continued Ja’afar, “Now lend me an ear and I will give thee a prescription, which I have given to none but thee.” “What is that?” asked the Badawi; and Ja’afar answered, “Take three ounces of wind-breaths and the like of sunbeams and the same of moonshine and as much of lamp-light; mix them well together and let them lie in the wind three months. Then place them three months in a mortar without a bottom and pound them to a fine powder and after trituration set them in a cleft platter, and let it stand in the wind other three months; after which use of this medicine three drachms every night in thy sleep, and, Inshallah! thou shalt be healed and whole.” Now when the Badawi heard this, he stretched himself out to full length on the donkey’s back and let fly a terrible loud fart2 and said to Ja’afar, “Take this fart in payment of thy prescription. When I have followed it, if Allah grant me recovery, I will give thee a slave-girl, who shall serve thee in they lifetime a service, wherewith Allah shall cut short thy term; and when thou diest and the Lord hurrieth thy soul to hell-fire, she shall blacken thy face with her skite, of her mourning for thee, and shall keen and beat her face, saying ‘O frosty-beard, what a fool thou wast?’”3 thereupon Harun al-Rashid laughed till he fell backward, and ordered the Badawi three thousand silver pieces. And a tale is told of
1 The Badawi not only always tells the truth, a perfect contrast with the townsfolk; he is blunt in speech addressing his Sultan “O Sa’íd!” and he has a hard rough humour which we may fairly describe as “wut.” When you chaff him look out for falls.
2 The answer is as old as the hills, teste the tale of what happened when Amasis (who on horseback) raised his leg, “broke wind and bad the messenger carry it back to Apries.” Herod. Ii. 162. But for the full significance of the Badawi’s most insulting reply see the Tale of Abu Hasan in Night ccccxi.
3 Arab. “Yá sáki” al-Dakan” meaning long bearded (foolish) as well as frosty bearded.
The Sharif Husayn bin Rayyán relateth that the Caliph Omar bin Al–Khattáb was sitting one day judging the folk and doing justice between his subjects, attended by the best and wisest of his counsellors, when there came up to him a youth comely and cleanly attired, upon whom two very handsome youths had laid hold and were haling by the collar till they set him in the presence. Whereupon the Commander of the Faithful, Omar, looked at him and them and bade them loose him; then, calling him near to himself, asked the twain, “What is your case with him?” They answered, “O Prince of True Believers, we are two brothers by one mother and as followers of verity known are we. We had a father, a very old man of good counsel, honoured by the tribes, sound of baseness renowned for goodliness, who reared us tenderly in childhood, and loaded us with favours in manhood;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the two youths said to the Commander of the Faithful, Omar son of Al- Khattab, “Our father was a man honoured by the tribes, sound of baseness and renowned for goodliness, who reared us delicately in childhood and loaded us with favours in manhood; in fine, a sea of noble and illustrious qualities, worthy of the poet’s praise,
‘Is Aub’s-Sakr of Shaybán1?’ they asked;
Quoth I, ‘Nay, by my life, of him’s Shaybán:
How many a sire rose high by a noble son,
As Allah’s prophet glorified Adnan!’2
Now he went forth this day to his garden, to refresh himself amongst its trees and pluck the ripe fruits, when this young man slew him wrongously and swerved from the road of righteousness; wherefore we demand of thee the retribution of his crime and call upon thee to pass judgement upon him, according to the commandment of Allah.” Then Omar cast a terrible look at the accused youth and said to him, “Verily thou hearest the complaint these two young men prefer; what hast thou in reply to aver?” But he was brave of heart and bold of speech, having doffed the robe of pusillanimity and put off the garb of cowardry; so he smiled and spake in the most eloquent and elegant words; and, after paying the usual ceremonial compliments to the Caliph, said, ““By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I have indeed given ear to their complaint, and they have told the truth in that which they tell, so far as they have set out what befel; and the commandment of Allah is a decreed decree.3 but I will forthright state my case between they hands, and it is for thee to give commands. Know then, O Prince of the Faithful, that I am a very Arab of the Arabies,4 the noblest of those that are beneath the skies. I grew up in the dwellings of the wold and fell, till evil times my tribe befel, when I came to the outskirts of this town, with my family and whatso goods I own: and, as I went along one of the paths leading to its gardens, orchards and garths, with my she-camels highly esteemed and by me most precious deemed, and midst them a stallion of noble blood and shape right good, a plenteous getter of brood, by whom the females abundantly bore and who walked among them as though a kingly crown he wore, one of the she-camels broke away; and, running to the garden of these young men’s father, where the trees showed above the wall, put forth her lips and began to feed as in stall. I ran to her, to drive her away, when behold, there appeared, at a breach of the wall, an old man and grey, whose eyes sparkled with angry ray, holding in his right a stone to throw and swaying to and fro, with a swing like a lion ready for a spring. He cast the stone at my stallion, and it killed him for it struck a vital part. When I saw the stallion drop dead beside me, I felt live coals of anger kindled in my heart; so I took up the very same stone and throwing it at the old man, it was the cause of his bane and ban: thus his own wrongful act returned to him anew, and the man was slain of that wherewith he slew. When the stone struck him, he cried out with a great cry and shrieked out a terrible shriek, whereupon I hastened from the spot; but these two young men hurried after me and laid hands on me and before thee carried me.” Quoth Omar (Almighty Allah accept of him!), “Thou hast confessed what thou committedest, and of acquittal there is no possible occasion; for urgent is the law of retaliation and they cried for mercy but it was not a time to escape.”5 the youth answered, “I hear and obey the judgement of the Imam, and I consent to all required by the law of Al–Islam; but I have a young brother, whose old father, before his decease, appointed to him wealth in great store and gold galore, and committed his affair to me before Allah, saying: ‘I give this into thy hand for thy brother; keep it for him with all thy might.’ So I took the money and buried it; nor doth any know of it but I. Now, if thou adjudge me to be justiced forthright, the money will lost and thou shalt be the cause of its loss; wherefore the child will sue thee for his due on the day when the Creator shall judge between His creatures. But, if thou wilt grant me three days’ delay, I will appoint some guardian to administer the affairs of the boy and return to answer my debt; and I have one who will be my surety for the fulfillment of this my promise.” So the Commander of the Faithful bowed his head awhile, then raised it and looking round upon those present, said, “Who will stand surety by me for his return to this place?” And the youth looked at the faces of those who were in company and pointing to Abu Zarr,6 in preference to all present, said, “This man shall answer for me and be my bail.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 P. N. of the tribe, often mentioned in The Nights.
2 Adnan, which whom Arab genealogy begins, is generally supposed to be the eighth (Al–Tabari says the fortieth) descendant from Ishmael and nine generations are placed between him and Fahr (Fihr) Kuraysh. The Prophet cut all disputes short by saying, “Beyond Adnan none save Allah wotteth and the genealogists lie.” (Pilgrimage ii. 344) M.C. de Perceval dates Adnan about B.C. 130.
3 Koran xxxiii., 38.
4 Arab. “Arab al-Arabá,” as before noticed (vol. i. 12) the pure and genuine blood as opposed to the “Musta’aribah,” the “Muta’arribah,” the “Mosarabians” and other Araboids; the first springing from Khatan (Yaktan?) and the others from Adnan. And note that “Arabi” = a man of pure Arab race, either of the Desert or of the city, while A’arábi applies only to the Desert man, the Badawi.
5 Koran xxxviii. 2, speaking of the Unbelievers (i.e. non-Moslems) who are full of pride and contention.
6 One of the Asháb, or Companions of the Apostle, that is them who knew him personally. (Pilgrimage ii. 80, etc.) The Asháb al-Suffah (Companions of the bench or sofa) were certain houseless Believers lodged by the Prophet. (Pilgrimage ii. 143).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the youth pointed to Abu Zarr and said, “This man shall answer for me and be my bail,” Omar (Allah accept of him!) said, O Abu Zarr, dost thou hear these words and wilt thou be surety to me for the return of this youth?” He answered, “Yes, O Commander of the Faithful, I will be surety for him for three days.” So the Caliph accepted his guarantee and let the young man go. Now when the appointed time passed and the days of grace were nearly or quite at end yet the youth came not, the Caliph took seat in his council, with the Companions surrounding him, like the constellations about the moon, Abu Zarr and the plaintiffs being also present; and the avengers said, “Where is the defendant, O Abu Zarr, and how shall he return, having once fled? But we will not stir from our places till thou bring him to us, that we may take of him our blood revenge.” Replied Abu Zarr, “By the truth of the All–Wise King, if the three days of grace expire and the young man returneth not, I will fulfill my warranty and surrender my person to the Imam;” and added Omar (whom Allah accept!), “By the Lord, if the young man appear not, I will assuredly execute on Abu Zarr that which is prescribed by the law of Al–Islam!”1 thereupon the eyes of the bystanders ran over with tears; those who looked on groaned aloud and great was the clamour. Then the chiefs of the Companions urged the plaintiffs to accept the blood-wit and deserve the thanks of the folk; but they both refused and would accept nothing save the talion. However, as the folk were swaying to and fro like waves and loudly bemoaning Abu Zarr, behold, up came the young Badawi; and, standing before the Imam, saluted him right courteously (with sweat-beaded face and shining with the crescent’s grace) and said to him, “I have given the lad in charge to his mother’s brothers and have made them acquainted with all that pertaineth to his affairs and let them into the secrets of his monies; after which I braved the heats of noon and have kept my word as a free- born man.” Thereupon the folk marvelled, seeing his good faith and loyalty and his offering himself to death with so stout a heart; and one said to him, “How noble a youth art thou and how loyal to thy word of honour and thy devoir!” Rejoined he, “Are ye not convinced that when death presenteth itself, none can escape from it? And indeed, I have kept my word, that it be not said, ‘Good faith is gone from among mankind.’ “ Said Abu Zarr, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I became warrant for this young man, without knowing to what tribe he belonged, nor had I seen him before that day; but, when he turned away from all who were present and singled me out, saying, ‘This man shall answer for me and be my bail,’ I thought it not right to refuse him, and generosity forbade to disappoint his desire, there being no harm in compliance therewith, that it be not bruited abroad, Benevolence is gone from among mankind.” Then said the two young men, “O Commander of the Faithful, we forgive this youth our father’s blood, seeing that he hath changed desolation into cheerfulness; that it be not said, Humanity is gone from among mankind.” So the Caliph rejoiced in the acquittance of the youth and his truth and good faith; moreover, he magnified the generosity of Abu Zarr, extolling it over all his companions, and approved the resolve of the two young men for its benevolence, giving them praise with thanks and applying to their case the saying of the poet,
“Who doth kindness to men shall be paid again;
Ne’er is kindness lost betwixt God and men.”
Then he offered to pay them, from the Treasury, the blood-wit for their father; but they refused, saying, “We forgave him only of our desire unto Allah,2 the Bountiful, the Exalted; and he who is thus intentioned followeth not his benefits with reproach or with mischief.”3 and amongst the tales they relate is that of
1 Hence Omar is entitled “Al–Adil = the Just.” Readers will remember that by Moslem law and usage murder and homicide are offences to be punished by the family, not by society or its delegates. This system reappears in civilisation under the denomination of “Lynch Law,” a process infinitely distasteful to lawyers (whom it abolishes) and most valuable when administered with due discretion.
2 Lane translates (ii. 592) “from a desire of seeing the face of God;” but the general belief of Al–Islam is that the essence of Allah’s corporeal form is different from man’s. The orthodox expect to “see their Lord on Doom-day as they see the full moon” (a tradition). But the Mu’atazilites deny with the existence of matter the corporiety of Alah and hold that he will be seen only with the spiritual eyes, i.e. of reason.
3 See Gesta Romanorum, Tale cviii., “of Constancy in adhering to Promises,” founded on Damon and Pythias or, perhaps, upon the Arabic.
It is told that the Caliph Al–Maamun, son of Harun al-Rashid, when he entered the God-guarded city of Cairo, was minded to pull down the Pyramids, that he might take what was therein; but, when he went about to do this, he could not succeed, albeit his best was done. He expended a mint of money in the attempt — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al–Ahrám,” a word of unknown provenance. It has been suggested that the singular form (Haram), preceded by the Coptic article “pi” (= the) suggested to the Greeks “Pyramis.” But this word is still sub judice and every Egyptologist seems to propose his own derivation. Brugsch (Egypt i. 72) makes it Greek {Greek text}, the Egyptian being “Abumir,” while “pir-am-us” = the edge of the pyramid, the corners running from base to apex. The Egyptologist proves also what the Ancients either ignored or forgot to mention, that each pyramid had its own name.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Al–Maamun attempting to pull down the Pyramids, expended his mint of money, but succeeded only in opening up a small tunnel in one of them, where in it is said he found treasure to the exact amount of the monies he had spent in the works, neither more nor less; whereat he marvelled and taking what he found there, desisted from his determination. Now the Pyramids are three, and they are one of the Wonders of the World; nor is there on the face of earth aught like them for height and fashion and mysteries1; for they are built of huge rocks, and the builders proceeded by piercing one block of stone and setting therein upright rods of iron2; after which they pierced a second block of stone and lowered it upon the first. Then they poured melted lead upon the clamps and set the blocks in geometrical order, till the building was complete. Now the height of each pyramid was an hundred cubits, of the normal measure of the day, and it had four faces, each three hundred cubits long from the base and thence battering upwards to a point. The ancients say that, in the western Pyramid, are thirty chambers of parti-coloured syenite, full of precious gems and treasures galore and rare images and utensils and costly weapons which are anointed with egromantic unguents, so that they may not rust until the day of Resurrection.3 Therein, also, are vessels of glass which bend and break not, containing various kinds of compound drugs and sympathetic waters. In the second Pyramid are the records of the priests, written on tablets of syenite, to each priest his tablet, whereon are engraved the wonders of his craft and his feats; and on the walls are the human figures like idols, working with their hands at all manner of mechanism and seated on stepped thrones. Moreover, to each Pyramid there is a guardian treasurer who keepeth watch over it and wardeth it, to all eternity, against the ravages of time and the shifts of events; and indeed the marvels of these Pyramids astound all who have sight and insight. Many are the poems that describe them, thou shalt thereby profit no small matter, and among the rest, quoth one of them,
“If Kings would see their high emprize preserved,
‘Twill be by tongues of monuments they laid:
Seest not the Pyramids? These two endure
Despite what change Time and Change have made.”
And quoth another,
“Look on the Pyramids, and hear the twain
Recount their annals of the long-gone Past:
Could they but speak, high marvels had they told
Of what Time did to man from first to last.”
And quoth a third,
“My friend I prithee tell me, ‘neath the sky
Is aught with Egypt’s Pyramids can compare?
Buildings which frighten Time, albe what dwells
On back of earth in fear of Time must fare:
If on their marvels rest my sight no more,
Yet these I ever shall in memory bear.”
And quoth a fourth,
“Where is the man who built the Pyramids?
What was his tribe, what day and where his tomb?
The monuments survive the men who built
Awhile, till overthrown by touch of Doom.”
And men also tell a tale of
1 Arab. “Ahkám,” in this matter supporting the “Pyramidologists.”
2 All imaginative.
3 It has always been my opinion founded upon considerations too long to detail, that the larger Pyramids contain many unopened chambers. Dr. Grant Bey of Cairo proposed boring through the blocks as Artesian wells are driven. I cannot divine why Lane (ii, 592) chose to omit this tale, which is founded on historic facts and interests us by suggesting a comparison between Mediæval Moslem superstitions and those of our xixth Century, which to our descendants will appear as wild, if not as picturesque, as those of The Nights. The “inspired British inch” and the building by Melchisedek (the Shaykh of some petty Syrian village) will compare not unaptly with the enchanted swords, flexible glass and guardian spirits. But the Pyramidennarren is a race which will not speedily die out: it is based on Nature, the Pyramids themselves.
There was once a thief who repented to Almighty Allah with sincere penitence; so he opened himself a shop for the sale of stuffs, where he continued to trade awhile. It so chanced one day that he locked his shop and went home, and in the night there came to the bazar an artful thief disguised in the habit of the merchant, and pulling out keys from his sleeve, said to the watchman of the market, “Light me this wax-candle.” The watchman took the taper and went to light it — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the watchman took the taper and went to light it, whilst the thief opened the shop and lit another candle he had by him. When the watchman came back, he found him seated in the shop, account-books inhand, and reckoning with his fingers; nor did he cease to do thus till point of day, when he said to the man, “Fetch me a camel-driver and his camel, to carry some goods for me.” So the man fetched him a camel, and the thief took four bales1 of stuffs and gave them to the cameleer, who loaded them on his beast. Then he gave the watchman two dirhams and went away after the camel-driver, leaving the watchman believing him to be the owner of the shop. Now when the morning dawned and day broke the merchant came and the watchman began greeting him with blessings, because of the two dirhams; but the shop-keeper wondered at his words as one not knowing what he meant. When he opened his shop, he saw the droppings of the wax and the account-book lying on the floor, and looking round, found four bales of stuffs missing. So he asked the watchman what had happened and he told him what has passed in the night and what had been said to the cameleer, whereupon the merchant bade him fetch the man and asked him, “Whither didst thou carry the stuffs this morning?” Answered the driver, “To such a landing-place, and I stowed them on board such a vessel.” Said the merchant, “Come with me thither;” so the camel-driver carried him to the landing-place and said to him, “This be the barque and this be her owner.” Quoth the merchant to the seaman, “Whither didst thou carry the merchant and the stuff?” Answered the boat-master, “To such a place, where he fetched a camel-driver and, setting the bales on the camel, went his ways I know not whither.” “Fetch me the cameleer who carried the goods,” said the merchant; so he fetched him and the merchant said to him, “Whither didst thou carry the bales of goods from the ship?” “To such a Khan,” answered he; and the merchant rejoined, “Come thither with me and show it to me.” So the camel-man went with him to a place far distant from the shore and showed him the Khan where he had set down the stuffs, and at the same time the false merchant’s magazine, which he opened and found therein his four bales bound up as they had been packed. The thief had laid his cloak over them; so the merchant took the cloak as well as the bales and delivered them to the camel-driver, who laid them on his camel; after which he locked the magazine and went away with the cameleer. On the way, he was confronted with the thief who followed him, till he had shipped the bales, when he said to him, “O my brother (Allah have thee in His holy keeping!), thou hast indeed recovered thy goods and naught of them is lost; so give me back my cloak.” The merchant laughed and, giving him back his cloak, let him go unhindered; whereupon both went their ways. And they tell a tale of
1 Arab. “Rizm”; hence, through the Italian Risma our ream (= 20 quires of paper, etc.), which our dictionaries derive from (!). See “frail” in Night dcccxxxviii.
The Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, was exceedingly restless one night; so he said to his Wazir Ja’afar, “I am sleepless to-night and my breast is straitened and I know not what to do.” Now his castrato Masrúr was standing before him, and he laughed: whereupon the Caliph said “At whom laughest thou? Is it to make mock of me or hath madness seized thee?” Answered Masrur, “Nay, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Harun al- Rashid said to Masrur the Sworder, “Dost thou laugh to make mock of me or hath madness seized thee?” Answered Masrur, “Nay, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I swear by thy kinship to the Prince of Apostles, I did it not of my free will; but I went out yesterday to walk within sight of the palace and, coming to the bank of the Tigris, saw there the folk collected; so I stopped and found a man, Ibn al-Káribí hight, who was making them laugh; but just now I recalled what he said, and laughter got the better of me; and I crave pardon of thee, O Commander of the Faithful!” Quoth the Caliph, “Bring him to me forthright;” so Masrur repaired in all haste to Ibn al-Karibi and said to him, “Answer the summons of the Commander of the Faithful,” whereto he replied, “I hear and obey.” “But on condition,” added Masrur, “that, if he give thee aught, thou shalt have a quarter and the rest shall be mine.” Replied the droll, “Nay, thou shalt have half and I half.” Rejoined Masrur, “Not so, I will have three-quarters.” Lastly said Ibn al-Karibi, “Thou shalt have two-thirds and I the other third;” to which Masrur agreed, after much higgling and haggling, and they returned to the palace together. Now when Ibn al-Karibi came into the Caliph’s presence he saluted him as men greet the Caliphate, and stood before him; whereupon said Al–Rashid to him, “If thou do not make me laugh, I will give thee three blows with this bag.” Quoth Ibn al-Karibi in his mind, “And a small matter were blows with that bag, seeing that beating with whips hurteth me not;” for he thought the bag was empty. Then he began to deal out his drolleries, such as would make the dismallest jemmy guffaw, and gave vent to all manner of buffooneries; but the Caliph laughed not neither smiled, whereat Ibn al-Karibi marvelled and was chagrined and affrighted. Then said the Commander of the Faithful, “Now hast thou earned the beating,” and gave him a blow with the bag, wherein were four pebbles each two rotols in weight. The blow fell on his neck and he gave a great cry, then calling to mind his compact with Masrur, said, “Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful! Hear two words from me.” Quoth the Caliph, “Say on,” and quoth Ibn al-Karibi, “Masrur made it a condition with me and I a covenant with him, that whatsoever largesse might come to me of the bounties of the Commander of the Faithful, one-third thereof should be mine and the rest his; nor did he agree to leave me so much as one-third, save after much higgling and haggling. I have had my share and here standeth he, ready to receive his portion; so pay him the two other blows.” Now when the Caliph heard this, he laughed until he fell on his back; then calling Masrur, he gave him a blow, whereat he cried out and said, “O Commander of the Faithful, the one-third sufficeth me: give him the two-thirds.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Masrur cried out, “O Commander of the Faithful! The one-third sufficeth me; give him the two-thirds.” So the Caliph laughed at them and ordered them a thousand dinars each, and they went away, rejoicing at the largesse. And of the tales they tell is one of
The Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, had a son who, from the time he attained the age of sixteen, renounced the world and walked in the way1 of ascetics and devotees. He was wont to go out to the graveyards and say, “Ye once ruled the world, but that saved you not from death, and now are ye come to your sepulchres! Would Heaven I knew what ye said and what is said to you!”2 and he wept as one weepeth who is troubled with fear and apprehension, and repeated the worlds of the poet,
“Affright me funerals at every time;
And wailing women grieve me to the soul!”
Now it chanced one day, as he sat among the tombs, according to his custom, his father passed by in all his state, surrounded by his Wazirs and Lords of the realm and the Officers of his household, who seeing the Caliph’s son with a gown of woollen stuff on his body and a twist of wool on his head by way of turband, said to one another, “Verily this youth dishonoureth the Commander of the Faithful among Kings: but, if he reproved him, he would leave his present way of life.” The Caliph heard these words; so quoth he to his son, “O my dear child, of a truth thou disgracest me by thy present way of life.” The young man looked at him and made no reply: then he beckoned to a bird perched on the battlements of the palace, and said to it, “O thou bird, I conjure thee by Him who created thee, alight upon my hand.” Whereupon straightway it swooped down and perched on his finger. Then quoth he, “Return to thy place;” and it did so. Presently he said, “Alight on the hand of the Commander of the Faithful;” but it refused there to perch, and he cried to his father, “It is thou that disgracest me amongst the Holy3 Ones, by the love of the world; and now I am resolved to part from thee, never to return to thee, save in the world to come.” Then he went down to Bassorah, where he took to working with those which wrought in clay,4 receiving, as his day’s hire, but a dirham and a danik;5 and with the danik he fed himself and gave alms of the dirham. (Quoth Abú Amir of Bassorah) “There fell down a wall in my house; so I went forth to the station of the artisans to find a man who should repair it for me, and my eyes fell on a handsome youth of a radiant countenance. So I saluted him and asked him, ‘O my friend, dost thou seek work?’ ‘Yes,’ answered he; and I said, ‘Come with me and build a wall.’ He replied, ‘On certain conditions I will make with thee.’ Quoth I ‘What are they, O my friend?’; and quoth he, ‘My wage must be a dirham and a danik, and again when the Mu’ezzin calleth to prayer, thou shalt let me go pray with the congregation.’ ‘It is well,’ answered I and carried him to my lace, where he fell to work, such work as I never saw the like of. Presented I named to him the morning-meal; but he said, ‘No;’ and I knew that he was fasting.6 When he heard the call to prayer, he said to me, ‘Thou knowest the condition?’ ‘Yes,’ answered i. So he loosed his girdle and, applying himself to the lesser ablution, made it after a fashion than which I never saw a fairer;7 then he went to the mosque and prayed with the congregation and returned to his work. He did the same upon the call to mid-afternoon prayer, and when I saw him fall to work again thereafterward, I said to him, ‘O my friend, verily the hours of labour are over; a workman’s day is but till the time of afternoon-prayer.’ But he replied, ‘Praise to the Lord, my service is till the night.’ And he ceased not to work till nightfall, when I gave him two dirhams; whereupon he asked ‘What is this!’; and I answered, ‘By Allah, this is but part of thy wage, because of thy diligence in my service.’ But he threw them back to me saying, ‘I will have no more than was agreed upon between us twain.’ I urged him to take them, but could not prevail upon him; so I gave him the dirham and the danik, and he went away. And when morning dawned, I went to the station but found him not; so I enquired for him and was told, ‘He cometh thither only on Sabbaths.’ Accordingly, when Saturday came, I betook me to the market and finding him there, said to him, ‘Bismillah, do me the favour to come and work for me.’ Said he, ‘Upon the conditions thou wottest;’ and I answered ‘Yes!’ Then carrying him to my house I stood to watch him where he could not see me; and he took a handful of puddled clay and laid it on the wall, when, behold, the stones ranged themselves one upon other; and I said, ‘On this wise are Allah’s holy ones.’ he worked out his day and did even more than before; and when it was night, I gave him his hire, and he took it and walked away. Now when the third Saturday came round, I went to the place of standing, but found him not; so I asked after him and they told me, ‘He is sick and lying in the shanty of such a woman.’ Now this was an old wife, renowned for piety, who had a hovel of reeds in the burial-ground. So I fared thither and found him stretched on the floor which was bare, with a brick for a pillow and his face beaming like the new moon with light. I saluted him and he returned my salam; and I sat down at his head weeping over his fair young years and absence from home and submission to the will of his Lord. Then said I to him, ‘Hast thou any need?’ ‘Yes,’ answered he; and I said, ‘What is it?’ He replied, ‘Come hither to-morrow in the forenoon and thou wilt find me dead. Wash me and dig my grave and tell none thereof: but shroud me in this my gown, after thou hast unsewn it and taken out what thou shalt find in the bosom-pocket, which keep with thee. Then, when thou hast prayed over me and laid me in the dust, go to Baghdad and watch for the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, till he come forth, when do thou give him what thou shalt find in the breast of my gown and bear him my salutation.’ Then he ejaculated the profession of the Faith and glorified his God in the most eloquent of words, reciting these couplets,
‘Carry the trust of him whom death awaits
To Al–Rashid and God reward thy care!
And say ‘An exile who desired thy sight
Long loving, from afar sends greeting fair.
Nor hate nor irk (No!) him from thee withdrew,
Kissing thy right to Heaven brought him near.8
But what estranged his soul, O sire, from thee
Is that thy worldly joys it would not share!’
Then he betook himself to prayer, asking pardon of Allah’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Taríkah” = the path trodden by ascetics and mystics in order to attain true knowledge (Ma’rifat in Pers. Dánish). These are extensive subjects: for the present I must refer readers to the Dabistan, iii. 35 and iii. 29, 36–7.
2 Alluding to the Fishár or “Squeeze of the tomb.” This is the Jewish Hibbut hakkeber which all must endure, save those who lived in the Holy Land or died on the Sabbath-eve (Friday night). Then comes the questioning by the Angels Munkar and Nakir (vulgarly called Nákir and Nakír) for which see Lane (M.E. chapt. xviii.). In Egypt a “Mulakkin” (intelligencer) is hired to prompt and instruct the dead. Moslems are beginning to question these facts of their faith: a Persian acquaintance of mine filled his dead father’s mouth with flour and finding it in loco on opening the grave, publicly derided the belief. But the Mullahs had him on the hip, after the fashion of reverends, declaring that the answers were made through the whole body, not only by the mouth. At last the Voltairean had to quit Shiraz.
3 Arab. “Walí” = a saint, Santon (Ital. Form) also a slave. See in Richardson (Dissert. iii.), an illustration of the difference between Wali and Wáli as exemplified by the Caliph al-Kádir and Mahmúd of Ghazni.
4 Arab. “Tín” = the tenacious clay puddled with chaff which serves as mortar for walls built of Adobe or sun dried brick. I made a mistake in my Pilgrimage (i.10) translating Ras al-Tín the old Pharos of Alexandria, by “Headland of Figs.” It is Headland of Clay, so called from the argile there found and which supported an old pottery.
5 The danik (Pers. Dang) is the sixth of a dirham. Mr. S. L. Poole (The Acad. April 26, ‘79) prefers his uncle’s translation “a sixth” (what of?) to Mr. Payne’s “farthing.” The latter at any rate is intelligible.
6 The devotee was “Sáim al-dahr” i.e. he never ate nor drank from daylight to dark throughout the year.
7 The ablution of a common man differs from that of an educated Moslem as much as the eating of a clown and a gentleman. Moreover there are important technical differences between the Wuzu of the Sunni and the Shi’ah.
8 i.e., by honouring his father.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth then betook himself to asking pardon of Allah and to invoking prayer and praise upon the Apostle and the Lord of the Just and repeating verses of the Koran; after which he recited these couplets,
“O sire, be not deceived by worldly joys;
For life must pass, and joy must learn to mourn;
When thou art told of folk in evil plight,
Think thou must answer for all hearts forlorn;
And when thou bear thy dead towards the tombs,
Know thou wilt likewise on that way be bourne.”
Continued Abu the Basri, “Now when the youth had ended his charge and his verses I left him and went home. On the morrow, I returned, at the appointed hour, and found him indeed dead, the mercy of Allah be upon him! So I washed him and, unsewing his gown, found in the bosom a ruby worth thousands of gold pieces and said to myself, ‘By Allah, this youth was indeed weaned from worldly things!’ After I had buried him, I made my way to Baghdad and, going to the Caliph’s palace, waited till he came forth, when I addressed him in one of the streets and gave him the ruby, which when he saw, he knew and fell down in a fainting- fit. His attendants laid hands on me, but he revived and said to them, ‘Release him and bring him courteously to the palace.’ They did his bidding, and when he returned, he sent for me and carrying me into his chamber said to me, ‘How doth the owner of this ruby?’ Quoth I, ‘Verily, he is dead;’ and told him what had passed; whereupon he fell a-weeping and said, ‘The son hath gained; but the sire hath lost.’ Then he called out, saying, ‘Ho, such an one!’; and behold there came out to him a lady who, when she saw me, would have withdrawn; but he cried to her, ‘Come, and mind him not.’ So she entered and saluted, and he threw her the ruby, which when she saw and she knew, she shrieked a great shriek and fell down in a swoon. As soon as she came to herself, she said, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, what hath Allah done with my son?’; and he said to me, ‘Do thou tell her his case’ (as he could not speak for weeping). Accordingly, I repeated the story to her, and she began to shed tears and say in a faint and wailing voice, ‘How I have longed for thy sight, O solace of mine eyes!1 Would I might have given thee to drink, when thou hadst none to slake thy thirst! Would I might have cheered thee, whenas thou foundest never a cheerer!’ And she poured forth tears and recited these couplets,
‘I weep for one whose lot a lonely death befel;
Without a friend to whom he might complain and moan:
And after glory and glad union with his friends,
He woke to desolation, friendless, lorn and lone;
What Fortune hides a while she soon to all men shall show;
Death never spared a man; no, not a single one:
O absent one, my Lord decreed thee strangerhood,
Far from thy nearest friends and to long exile gone:
Though Death forbid my hope of meeting here again,
On Doom-day’s morrow we shall meet again, my son!2
Quoth I, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, was he indeed thy son?’ Quoth he, ‘Yes, and indeed, before I succeeded to this office, he was wont to visit the learned and company with the devout; but, when I became Caliph, he grew estranged from me and withdrew himself apart.3 Then said I to his mother, ‘Verily this thy son hath cut the world and devoted his life to Almighty Allah, and it may be that hard times shall befal him and he be smitten with trial of evil chance; wherefore do thou given him this ruby, which he may find useful in hour of need.’ So she gave it him, conjuring him to take it, and he obeyed her bidding. Then he left to us the things of our world and removed himself from us; nor did he cease to be absent from us, till he went to the presence of Allah (to whom be Honour and Glory!), pious and pure.’ Then said he, ‘Come, show me his grave.’ So, I travelled with him to Bassorah and showed him his son’s grave; and when he saw it, he wept and lamented, till he fell down in a swoon; after which he recovered and asked pardon of the Lord, saying, ‘We are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning!’; and involved blessings on the dead. Then he asked me to become his companion, but I said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, verily, in thy son’s case is for me the most momentous of admonitions!’ And I recited these couplets,
“‘Tis I am the stranger, visited by none;
I am the stranger though in town my own:
‘Tis I am the stranger! Lacking kith and son,
And friend to whom I mote for aidance run.
I house in mosques which are my only home;
My heart there wones and shall for ever wone:
Then laud ye Allah, Lord of Worlds, as long
As soul and body dwell in union!’”
And a famous tale is told of
1 This young saint was as selfish and unnatural a sinner as Saint Alexius of the Gesta Romanorum (Tale xv.), to whom my friend, the late Thomas Wright, administered just and due punishment.
2 The verses are affecting enough, though by no means high poetry.
3 The good young man cut his father for two reasons: secular power (an abomination to good Moslems) and defective title to the Caliphate. The latter is a trouble to Turkey in the present day and with time will prove worse.
Quoth one of the learned, “I passed once by a school, wherein a schoolmaster was teaching children; so I entered, finding him a good-looking man and a well-dressed; when he rose to me and made me sit with him. Then I examined him in the Koran and in syntax and prosody and lexicography; and behold, he was perfect in all required of him, so I said to him, ‘Allah strengthen thy purpose! Thou art indeed versed in all that is requisite,’ thereafter I frequented him a while, discovering daily some new excellence in him, and quoth I to myself, ‘This is indeed a wonder in any dominie; for the wise are agreed upon a lack of wit in children’s teachers.’ Then I separated myself from him and sought him and visited him only every few days, till coming to see him one day as of wont, I found the school shut and made enquiry of his neighbors, who replied, ‘Some one is dead in his house.’ So I said in my mind, ‘It behoveth me to pay him a visit of condolence,’ and going to his house, knocked at the door, when a slave-girl came out to me and asked, ‘What dost thou want?’ and I answered, ‘I want thy master.’ She replied, ‘He is sitting alone, mourning;’ and I rejoined, ‘Tell him that his friend so and so seeketh to console him.’ She went in and told him; and he said, ‘Admit him.’ So she brought me in to him, and I found him seated alone and his head bound with mourning fillets. So I said to him, ‘Allah requite thee amply! this is a path all must perforce tread, and it behoveth thee to take patience;’ adding, ‘But who is dead unto thee?’ He answered, ‘One who was dearest of the folk to me, and best beloved.’ ‘Perhaps thy father?’ ‘No!’ ‘Thy brother?’ “No!’ “One of thy kindred?’ ‘No!’ Then asked I, ‘What relation was the dead to thee?’; and he answered, ‘My lover.’ Quoth I to myself, ‘This is the first proof to swear by his lack of wit.’ So I said to him, ‘Assuredly there be others than she and fairer;’ and he made answer, ‘I never saw her, that I might judge whether or no there be others fairer than she.’ Quoth I to myself, ‘This is another proof positive.’ Then I said to him, ‘And how couldst thou fall in love with one thou hast never seen?’ He replied ‘Know that I was sitting one day at the window, when lo! there passed by a man, singing the following distich,
‘Umm Amr’,1 thy boons Allah repay!
Give back my heart be’t where it may!’”
And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Umm Amrí (written Amrú and pronounced Amr’) a matronymic, “mother of Amru.” This story and its terminal verse is a regular Joe Miller.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the schoolmaster continued, “ ‘When I heard the man humming these words as he passed along the street, I said to myself ‘Except this Umm Amru were without equal in the world, the poets had not celebrated her in ode and canzon.’ So I fell in love with her; but, two days after, the same man passed, singing the following couplet,
‘Ass and Umm Amr’ went their way;
Nor she, nor ass returned for aye.’
Thereupon I knew she was dead and mourned for her. This was three days ago, and I have been mourning ever since. So I left him, (concluded the learned one) and fared forth, having assured myself of the weakness of the gerund-grinder’s wit.” And they tell another and a similar tale of
Once upon a time, a schoolmaster was visited by a man of letters who entered a school and, sitting down by the host’s side, entered into discourse with him and found him an accomplished theologian, poet grammarian, philologist and poet; intelligent, well bred and pleasant spoken; whereat he wondered, saying in himself, “It cannot be that a man who teacheth children in a school, should have a perfect wit.” Now when he was about to go away, the pedant said to him, “Thou are my guest to-night;” and he consented to receive hospitality and accompanied him to his house, where he made much of him and set food before him. They ate and drank and sat talking, till a third part of the night was past when the host spread his guest a bed and went up to his Harim. The stranger lay down and addressed himself to sleep, when, behold, there arose a great clamour in the women’s rooms. He asked what was the matter and they said, “A terrible thing hath befallen the Shaykh and he is at the last gasp.” Said he, “Take me up to him”; so they took him up to the pedagogue whom he found lying insensible, with his blood streaming down. He sprinkled water on his face and when he revived, he asked him, “What hath betided thee? When thou leftest me, thou wast in all good cheer and whole of body,” and he answered, “O my brother, after I left thee, I sat meditating on the creative works of Almighty Allah, and said to myself: ‘In every thing the Lord hath created for man, there is an use; for He (to Whom be glory!) made the hands to seize, the feet to walk, the eyes to see, the ears to hear and the penis to increase and multiply; and so on with all the members of the body, except these two ballocks; there is no use in them.’ So I took a razor I had by me and cut them off; and there befel me what thou seest.” So the guest left him and went away, saying, “He was in the right who said, ‘Verily no schoolmaster who teacheth children can have a perfect wit, though he know all the sciences.’” And they tell a pleasant tale of the
1 Abuse and derision of schoolmaster are staple subjects in the East as in the West, (Quem Dii oderunt pædagogum fecerunt). Anglo–Indians will remember:
“Miyán-ji ti-ti!
Bachche-kí gánd men anguli kí thi!”
(“Schoolmaster hum!
Who fumbled and fingered the little boy’s bum?”)
There was once, among the menials1 of a certain mosque, a man who knew not how to write or even to read and who gained his bread by gulling folk. One day, it occurred to him to open a school and teach children; so he got together writing-tablets and written papers and hung them up in a high place. Then he greatened his turband2 and sat down at the door of the school; and when the people, who passed by, saw his huge head-gear and tablets and scrolls, they thought he must be a very learned pedagogue; so they brought him their children; and he would say to this, “Write,” and to that “Read”; and thus the little ones taught each other. Now one day, as he sat as of wont, at the door of the school, behold, up came a woman letter in hand, and he said in his mind, “This woman doubtless seeketh me, that I may read her the missive she hath in her hand: how shall I do with her, seeing I cannot read writing?” And he would fain have gone down and fled from her; but, before he could do this, she overtook him and said to him, “Whither away?” Quoth he, “I purpose to pray the noon-prayer and return.” Quoth she, “Noon is yet distant, so read me this letter.” He took the letter and turning it upside down, fell to looking at it, now shaking his head till his turband quivered, then dancing his eyebrows and anon showing anger and concern. Now the letter came from the woman’s husband, who was absent; and when she saw the dominie do on this wise, she said to herself, “Doubtless my husband is dead, and this learned doctor of law and religion is ashamed to tell me so.” So she said to him, “O my lord, if he be dead, tell me;” but he shook his head and held his peace. Then said she, “Shall I rend my raiment?” “Rend!” replied he. “Shall I beat my face?” asked she; and he answered, “Beat!” So she took the letter from his hand and returned home fell a-weeping, she and her children. Presently, one of her neighbours heard her sobbing and asking what aileth her, was answered, “Of a truth she hath gotten a letter, telling her that her husband is dead.” Quoth the man, “This is a falsehood; for I had a letter from him but yesterday, advising me that he is whole and in good health and will be with her after ten days.” So he rose forthright and going in to her, said, “Where is the letter which came to thee?” She brought it to him, and he took it and read it; and lo! it ran as follows, “After the usual salutations, I am well and in good health and whole and will be with you all after ten days. Meanwhile, I send you a quilt and an extinguisher.”3 So she took the letter and, returning to the schoolmaster, said to him, “What induced thee to deal thus with me?” And she repeated to him what her neighbour had told her of her husband’s well-being and of his having sent her a quilt and an extinguisher. Answered he, “Thou art in the right, O good woman; for I was, at the time”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Mujawirin” = the lower servants, sweepers, etc. See Pilgrimage ii. 161, where it is also applied to certain “settlers” at Al–Medinah. Burckhardt (No. 480) notices another meaning “foreigners who attend mosque-lectures” and quotes the saying, “A. pilgrimaged:” quoth B. “yes! and for his villanies resideth (Mujáwir) at Meccah.”
2 The custom (growing obsolete in Egypt) is preserved in Afghanistan where the learned wear turbans equal to the canoe-hats of the Spanish cardinals.
3 Arab. “Makmarah,” a metal cover for the usual brasier or pan of charcoal which acts as a fire-place. Lane (ii. 600) does not translate the word and seems to think it means a belt or girdle, thus blunting the point of the dominie’s excuse.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the pedagogue replied, “Verily I was at that time fashed and absent-minded and, seeing the extinguisher wrapped up in the quilt, I thought that he was dead and they had shrouded him.” The woman, not smoking the cheat, said, “Thou art excused,” and taking the letter, went her ways.1 And they relate a story of
1 This story, a very old Joe Miller, was told to Lane as something new and he introduced it into his Modern Egyptians, end of chapt. ii.
A certain King once went forth in disguise, to look into the affairs of his lieges. Presently, he came to a great village which he entered unattended and being athirst, stopped at the door of a house and asked for water. There came out to him a fair woman with a gugglet, which she gave him, and he drank. When he looked at her, he was ravished with her and besought her favours. Now she knew him; so she led him into the house and, making him sit down, brought out a book and said to him, “Look therein whilst I order my affair and return to thee.” So he looked into the book, and behold, it treated of the Divine prohibition against advoutry and of the punishments which Allah hath prepared for those who commit adulterous sin. When he read this, his flesh quaked and his hair bristled and he repented to Almighty Allah: then he called the woman and, giving her the book, went away. Now her husband was absent and when he returned, she told him what had passed, whereat he was confounded and said in himself, “I fear lest the King’s desire have fallen upon her.” And he dared not have to do with her and know her carnally after this. When some time had past, the wife told her kinsfolk of her husband’s conduct, and they complained of him to the King, saying, “Allah advance the King! This man hired of us a piece of land for tillage, and tilled it awhile; then left it fallow and neither tilled it nor forsook it, that we might let it to one who would till it. Indeed, harm is come to the field, and we fear its corruption, for such land as that if it be not sown, spoileth.” Quoth the King to the man, “What hindereth thee from sowing thy land?” Answered he, “Allah advance the King! It reached me that the lion entered the field wherefore I stood in awe of him and dared not draw near it, since knowing that I cannot cope with the lion, I stand in fear of him.” The King understood the parable and rejoined, saying, “O man, the lion trod and trampled not thy land, and it is good for seed so do thou till it and Allah prosper thee in it, for the lion hath done it no hurt.” Then he bade give the man and his wife a handsome present and sent them away.1 And amongst the stories is that of
1 This tale is a mere abbreviation of “The King and his Wazir’s Wife,” in the Book of Sindibad or the Malice of Women, Night dcxxviii., {which see for annotations}.
There was once a man of the people of West Africa who had journeyed far and wide and traversed many a desert and a tide. He was once cast upon an island, where he abode a long while and, returning thence to his native country, brought with him the quill of a wing feather of a young Rukh, whilst yet in egg and unhatched; and this quill was big enough to hold a goat skin of water, for it is said that the length of the Rukh chick’s wing, when he cometh forth of the egg, is a thousand fathoms. The folk marvelled at this quill, when they saw it, and the man who was called Abd al-Rahman the Moor (and he was known, to boot, as the Chinaman, for his long sojourn in Cathay), related to them the following adventure, one of many of his traveller’s tales of marvel. He was on a voyage in the China seas — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The older “Roe” which may be written “Rukh” or “Rukhkh.” Colonel Yule, the learned translator of Marco Polo, has shown that “Roc’s” feathers were not uncommon curiosities in mediæval ages; and holds that they were mostly fronds of the palm Raphia vinifera, which has the largest leaf in the vegetable kingdom and which the Moslems of Zanzibar call “Satan’s date-tree.” I need hardly quote “Frate Cipolla and the Angel Gabriel’s Feather.” (Decameron vi. 10.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abd al- Rahman, the Moorman, the Chinaman, was wont to tell wondrous tales amongst which was the following. He was on a voyage in the China seas with a company of merchants, when they sighted an island from afar; so they steered for it and, making fast thereto, saw that it was large and spacious. The ship’s crew went ashore to get wood and water, taking with them hatchets and ropes and water skies (the travellers accompanying them), and presently espied a great dome, white and gleaming, an hundred cubits long. So they made towards it and drawing near, found that it was an egg of the Rukh and fell on it with axes and stones and sticks till they uncovered the young bird and found the chick as it were a firm set hill. So they plucked out one of the wing feathers, but could not do so, save by helping one another, for all the quills were not full grown, after which they took what they could carry of the young bird’s flesh and cutting the quill away from the vane, returned to the ship. Then they set sail and putting out to sea, voyaged with a fair wind all that night, till the sun rose; and while everything went well, they saw the Rukh come flying after them, as he were a vast cloud, with a rock in his talons, like a great heap bigger than the ship. As soon as he poised himself in air over the vessel, he let fall the rock upon it; but the craft, having great way on her, outwent the rock, which fell into the sea with a loud crash and a horrible. So Allah decreed their deliverance and saved them from doom; and they cooked the young bird’s flesh and ate it. Now there were amongst them old white bearded men; and when they awoke on the morrow, they found that their beards had turned black, nor did any who had eaten of the young Rukh grow gray ever after. Some said the cause of the return of youth to them and the ceasing of hoariness from them was that they had heated the pot with arrow wood, whilst others would have it that it came of eating the Rukh chick’s flesh; and this is indeed a wonder of wonders.1 And a story is related of
1 The tale is told in a bald, disjointed style and will be repeated in Sindbad the Seaman where I shall again notice the “Roc.” See Night dxxxvii., etc.
Al–Nu’uman Bin Al–Munzir, King of the Arabs of Irak, had a daughter named Hind, who went out one Pasch, which is a feast day of the Nazarenes, to the White Church, to take the sacrament; she was eleven years old and was the loveliest woman of her age and time; and it so chanced that on the same day came to Hirah1 a young man called ‘Adí bin Zayd 2 with presents from the Chosroë to Al–Nu’uman, and he also went to the White Church, to communicate. He was tall of stature and fair of favour, with handsome eyes and smooth cheeks, and had with him a company of his people. Now there was with Hind bint al-Nu’uman a slave girl named Máriyah, who was enamoured of Adi, but had not been able to foregather with him. So, when she saw him in the church, she said to Hind, “Look at yonder youth. By Allah, he is handsomer than all thou seest!” Hind asked, “And who is he?” and Mariyah answered, “Adi bin Zayd.” Quoth Al–Nu’uman’s daughter, “I fear lest he know me, if I draw nearer to look on him.” Quoth Mariyah, “How should he know thee when he hath never seen thee?” So she drew near him and found him jesting with the youths his companions; and indeed he surpassed them all, not only in his personal charms but in the excellence of his speech, the eloquence of his tongue and the richness of his raiment. When the Princess saw him, she was ravished with him, her reason was confounded and her colour changed; and Mariyah, seeing her inclination to him, said to her, “Speak him.” So she spoke to him and went away. Now when he looked upon her and heard her speech, he was captivated by her and his wit was dazed; his heart fluttered, and his colour changed so that his companions suspected him, and he whispered one of them to follow her and find out who she was. The young man went after her and returning informed him that she was princess Hind, daughter of Al–Nu’uman. So Adi left the church, knowing not whither he went, for excess of love, and reciting these two couplets,
“O friends of me, one favour more I pray:
Unto the convents3 find more your way:
Turn me that so I face the land of Hind;
Then go, and fairest greetings for me say.”
Then he went to his lodging and lay that night, restless and without appetite for the food of sleep. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Hírah in Mesopotamia was a Christian city and principality subject to the Persian Monarchs; and a rival to the Roman kingdom of Ghassán. It has a long history, for which see D’Herbelot.
2 A pre-Islamite poet.
3 Arab. “Biká‘a,” alluding to the pilgrimages made to monasteries and here equivalent to, “Address ye to the road,” etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Adi ended his verses he went to his lodging and lay that night restless and without appetite for the food of sleep. Now on the morrow Mariyah accosted him and he received her kindly, though before he would not incline to her, and said to her, “What is thy will?” Quoth she, “I have a want of thee;” and quoth he, “Name it, for by Allah, thou shalt not ask me aught, but I will give it thee!” So she told him that she loved him, and her want of him was that he would grant her a lover’s privacy; and he agreed to do her will, on condition that she would serve him with Hind and devise some device to bring them together. Then he took her into a vintner’s tavern in one of the by streets of Hirah, and lay with her; after which she returned to Hind and asked her, “Dost thou not long to see Adi?” She answered, “How can this be? Indeed my longing for him makes me restless, and no repose is left me since yesterday.” Quoth Mariyah, “I will appoint him to be in such a place, where thou canst look on him from the palace.” Quoth Hind, “Do what thou wilt,” and agreed with her upon the place. So Adi came, and the Princess looked out upon him; and, when she saw him, she was like to topple down from the palace top and said, “O Mariyah, except thou bring him in to me this night, I shall die.” So saying, she fell to the ground in a fainting fit, and her serving women lifted her up and bore her into the palace; whilst Mariyah hastened to Al–Nu’uman and discovered the whole matter to him with perfect truth, telling him that indeed she was mad for the love of Adi; and except he marry her to him she must be put to shame and die of love for him, which would disgrace her father among the Arabs, adding at the end, “There is no cure for this but wedlock.” The King bowed his head awhile in thought and exclaimed again and again, “Verily, we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning!” Then said he “Woe to thee! How shall the marriage be brought about, seeing I mislike to open the matter?” And she said, “He is yet more ardently in love and yet more desireful of her than she is of him; and I will so order the affair that he shall be unaware of his case being known to thee; but do not betray thyself, O King.” Then she went to Adi and, after acquainting him with everything said, “Make a feast and bid the King thereto; and, when the wine hath gotten the better of him, ask of him his daughter, for he will not refuse thee.” Quoth Adi, “I fear lest this enrage him against me and be the cause of enmity between us.” But quoth she, “I came not to thee, till I had settled the whole affair with him.” Then she returned to Al-Nu’uman and said to him, “Seek of Adi that he entertain thee in his house.” Replied the King, “There is no harm in that;” and after three days, besought Adi to give him and his lords the morning meal in his house. He consented and the King went to him; and when the wine had taken effect on Al–Nu’uman, Adi rose and sought of him his daughter in wedlock. He consented and married them and brought her to him after three days; and they abode at Al–Nu’uman’s court, in all solace of life and its delight — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Adi abode with Hind bint Al–Nu’uman bin Munzir three years in all solace of life and its delight, after which time the King was wroth with Adi and slew him. Hind mourned for him with grievous mourning and built her an hermitage outside the city, whither she retired and became a religious, weeping and bewailing her husband till she died. And her hermitage is seen to this day in the suburbs of Hirah. They also tell a tale of
Quoth Di’ibil al Khuzá‘i1, “I was sitting one day at the gate of Al Karkh,2 when a damsel came past. Never saw I a fairer faced or better formed than she, walking with a voluptuous swaying gait and ravishing all beholders with her lithe and undulating pace. Now as my eyes fell on her, I was captivated by her and my vitals trembled and meseemed my heart flew forth of my breast; so I stood before her and I accosted her with this verse,
‘The tears of these eyes find easy release;
But sleep flies these eyelids without surcease.’
Whereon she turned her face and looking at me, straightway made answer with this distich,
‘A trifle this an his eyes be sore,
When her eyes say ‘yes’ to his love’s caprice!’
I was astounded at the readiness of her reply and the fluency of her speech and rejoined with this verse,
‘Say, cloth heart of my fair incline to him
Whose tears like a swelling stream increase?’
And she answered me without hesitation, thus,
‘If thou crave our love, know that love’s a loan;
And a debt to be paid by us twain a piece.’
Never entered my ears aught sweeter than her speech nor ever saw I brighter than her face: so I changed rhyme and rhythm to try her, in my wonder at her words, and repeated this couplet,
‘Will Fate with joy of union ever bless our sight,
And one desireful one with other one unite.’
She smiled at this (never saw I fairer than her mouth nor sweeter than her lips), and answered me, without stay or delay, in the following distich,
“Pray, tell me what hath Fate to do betwixt us twain?
Thou’rt Elate: so bless our eyne with union and delight.’
At this, I sprang up and fell to kissing her hands and cried, ‘I had not thought that Fortune would vouchsafe me such occasion. Do thou follow me, not of bidding or against thy will, but of the grace of thee and thy favour to me.’ Then I went on and she after me. Now at that time I had no lodging I deemed fit for the like of her; but Muslim bin al-Walíd3 was my fast friend, and he had a handsome house. So I made for his abode and knocked at the door, whereupon he came out, and I saluted him, saying, ‘’Tis for time like this that friends are treasured up’; and he replied, ‘With love and gladness! Come in you twain.’ So we entered but found money scarce with him: however, he gave me a kerchief, saying, ‘Carry it to the bazar and sell it and buy food and what else thou needest.’ I took the handkerchief, and hastening to the market, sold it and bought what we required of victuals and other matters; but when I returned, I found that Muslim had retired, with her to an underground chamber.4 When he heard my step he hurried out and said to me, ‘Allah requite thee the kindness thou hast done me, O Abu Ali and reward thee in time to come and reckon it of thy good deeds on the Day of Doom!’ So saying, he took from me the food and wine and shut the door in my face. His words enraged me and I knew not what to do, but he stood behind the door, shaking for mirth; and, when he saw me thus, he said to me, ‘I conjure thee on my life, O Abu Ali, tell who it was composed this couplet?,
‘I lay in her arms all night, leaving him
To sleep foul-hearted but clean of staff.’
At this my rage redoubled, and I replied, ‘He who wrote this other couplet’,
‘One, I wish him in belt a thousand horns,
Exceeding in mighty height Manaf.’5
Then I began to abuse him and reproach him with the foulness of his action and his lack of honour; and he was silent, never uttering a word. But, when I had finished, he smiled and said, ‘Out on thee, O fool! Thou hast entered my house and sold my kerchief and spent my silver: so, with whom art thou wroth, O pimp?’6 Then he left me and went away to her, whilst I said, ‘By Allah, thou art right to twit me as nincompoop and pander!’ Then I left his door and went away in sore concern, and I feel its trace in my heart to this very day; for I never had my will of her nor, indeed, ever heard of her more.” And amongst other tales is that about
1 Whose by name was Abu Ali, a poet under the Abbasides (eighth and ninth centuries).
2 A well-known quarter of Baghdad, often mentioned in The Nights.
3 Another well-known poet of the time.
4 Arab. “Sardáb”: noticed before.
5 A gigantic idol in the Ka’abah, destroyed by Mohammed: it gave name to a tribe.
6 Arab. “Ya Kawwád:” hence the Port. and Span. Alcoviteiro.
Quoth Ishak bin Ibrahim al Mausili, “It so chanced that, one day feeling weary of being on duty at the Palace and in attendance upon the Caliph, I mounted horse and went forth, at break of dawn, having a mind to ride out in the open country and take my pleasure. So I said to my servants, ‘If there come a messenger from the Caliph or another, say that I set out at day break, upon a pressing business, and that ye know not whither I am gone.’ Then I fared forth alone and went round about the city, till the sun waxed hot, when I halted in a great thoroughfare known as Al Haram,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ishak bin Ibrahim the Mausili continued: “When the sun waxed hot I halted in a great thoroughfare known as Al–Haram, to take shelter in the shade and found it in a spacious wing of a house which projected over the street. And I stood there but a little while before there came up a black slave, leading an ass bestridden by a damsel; and under her were housings set with gems and pearls and upon her were the richest of clothes, richness can go no farther; and I saw that she was elegant of make with languorous look and graceful mien. I asked one of the passers by who she was, and he said, ‘She is a singer,’ so I fell in love with her at first sight: hardly could I keep my seat on horseback. She entered the house at whose gate I stood; and, as I was planning a device to gain access to her, there came up two men young and comely who asked admission and the housemaster gave them leave to enter. So they alighted and I also and they entered and I with them, they supposing that the master of the house had invited me; and we sat awhile, till food was brought and we ate. Then they set wine before us, and the damsel came out, with a lute in her hand. She sang and we drank, till I rose to obey a call of nature. Thereupon the host questioned the two others of me, and they replied that they knew me not; whereupon quoth he, ‘This is a parasite1; but he is a pleasant fellow, so treat him courteously.’ Then I came back and sat down in my place, whilst the damsel sang to a pleasing air these two couplets,
‘Say to the she gazelle, who’s no gazelle,
And Kohl’d ariel who’s no ariel.2
Who lies with male, and yet no female is,
Whose gait is female most unlike the male.’
She sang it right well, and the company drank and her song pleased them. Then she carolled various pieces to rare measures, and amongst the rest one of mine, which consisted of this distich,
‘Bare hills and campground desolate
And friends who all have ganged their gait.
How severance after union leaves
Me and their homes in saddest state!’
Her singing this time was even better than the first; then she chanted other rare pieces, old and new, and amongst them, another of mine with the following two couplets,
‘Say to angry lover who turns away,
And shows thee his side whatso thou
‘Thou wroughtest all that by thee was wrought,
Albe ’twas haply thy sport and play.’
I prayed her to repeat the song, that I might correct it for her; whereupon one of the two men accosted me and said, ‘Never saw we a more impudent lick platter than thou. Art thou not content with sponging, but thou must eke meddle and muddle? Of very sooth, in thee is the saying made true, Parasite and pushing wight.’ So I hung down my head for shame and made him no answer, whilst his companion would have withheld him from me, but he would not be restrained. Presently, they rose to pray, but I lagged behind a little and, taking the lute, screwed up the sides and brought it into perfect tune. Then I stood up in my place to pray with the rest; and when we had ended praying, the same man fell again to blaming me and reviling me and persisted in his rudeness, whilst I held my peace. Thereupon the damsel took the lute and touching it, knew that it had been altered, and said, ‘Who hath touched my lute?’ Quoth they, ‘None of us hath touched it.’ Quoth she, ‘Nay, by Allah, some one hath touched it, and he is an artist, a past master in the craft; for he hath arranged the strings and tuned them like one who is a perfect performer.’ Said I, ‘It was I tuned it;’ and said she, ‘Then, Allah upon thee, take it and play on it!’ So I took it; and, playing a piece so difficult and so rare, that it went nigh to deaden the quick and quicken the dead, I sang thereto these couplets,
‘I had a heart, and with it lived my life:
’Twas seared with fire and burnt with loving-lowe:
I never won the blessing of her love;
God would not on His slave such boon bestow:
If what I’ve tasted be the food of Love,
Must taste it all men who love food would know.’”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab “Tufayli,” a term before noticed; the class was as well-known in Baghdad and Cairo as in ancient Rome.
2 Arab. “Jauzar”=a bubalus (Antilope defessa), also called “Aye” from the large black eyes. This bovine antelope is again termed Bakar al-Wahsh (wild cattle) or “Bos Sylvestris” (incerti generic, Forsk.). But Janzar also signifies hart, so I render it by “Ariel” (the well-known antelope).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ishak of Mosul thus continued: “Now when I had finished my verse, there was not one of the company but sprang from his place and sat down like schoolboys before me, saying, ‘Allah upon thee, O our lord, sing us another song.’ ‘With pleasure,’ said I, and playing another measure in masterly fashion, sang thereto these couplets,
‘Ho thou whose heart is melted down by force of Amor’s fire,
And griefs from every side against thy happiness conspire:
Unlawful is that he who pierced my vitals with his shaft,
My blood between my midriff and my breast bone1 he desire,
’Twas plain, upon our severance day, that he had set his mind
On an eternal parting, moved by tongue of envious liar:
He sheds my blood he ne’er had shed except by wound of love,
Will none demand my blood of him, my wreck of him require?’
When I had made an end of this song, there was not one of them but rose to his feet and threw himself upon the ground for excess of delight. Then I cast the lute from my hand, but they said, ‘Allah upon thee, do not on this wise, but let us hear another song, so Allah Almighty increase thee of His bounty!’ Replied I, ‘O folk, I will sing you another song and another and another and will tell you who I am. I am Ishak bin Ibrahim al Mausili, and by Allah, I bear myself proudly to the Caliph when he seeketh me. Ye have today made me hear abuse from an unmannerly carle such as I loathe; and by Allah, I will not speak a word nor sit with you, till ye put yonder quarrelsome churl out from among you!’ Quoth the fellow’s companion to him, ‘This is what I warned thee against, fearing for thy good name.’ So they hent him by the hand and thrust him out; and I took the lute and sang over again the songs of my own composing which the damsel had sung. Then I whispered the host that she had taken my heart and that I had no patience to abstain from her. Quoth he ‘She is thine on one condition.’ I asked, ‘What is that?’ and he answered, ‘It is that thou abide with me a month, when the damsel and all belonging to her of raiment and jewellery shall be thine.’ I rejoined, ‘It is well, I will do this.’ So I tarried with him a whole month, whilst none knew where I was and the Caliph sought me everywhere, but could come by no news of me; and at the end of this time, the merchant delivered to me the damsel, together with all that pertained to her of things of price and an eunuch to attend upon her. So I brought all that to my lodging, feeling as I were lord of the whole world, for exceeding delight in her; then I rode forthright to Al–Maamun. And when I stood in the presence, he said, ‘Woe to thee, O Ishak, where hast thou been?’ So I acquainted him with the story and he said, ‘Bring me that man at once.’ Thereupon I told him where he lived and he sent and fetched him and questioned him of the case; when he repeated the story and the Caliph said to him, ‘Thou art a man of right generous mind, and it is only fitting that thou be aided in thy generosity.’ Then he ordered him an hundred thousand dirhams and said to me, ‘O Ishak, bring the damsel before me.’ So I brought her to him, and she sang and delighted him; and being greatly gladdened by her he said to me, ‘I appoint her turn of service every Thursday, when she must come and sing to me from behind the curtain.’ And he ordered her fifty thousand dirhams, so by Allah, I profited both myself and others by my ride.” And amongst the tales they tell is one of
1 Arab. “Taráib” plur. of taríbah. The allusion is to the heart, and “the little him’s a her.”
Quoth Al-‘Utbí1, “I was sitting one day with a company of educated men, telling stories of the folk, when the talk turned upon legends of lovers and each of us said his say thereanent. Now there was in our company an old man, who remained silent, till all had spoken and had no more to say, when quoth he, ‘Shall I tell you a thing, the like of which you never heard; no, never?’ ‘Yes,’ quoth we; and he said, ‘Know, then, that I had a daughter, who loved a youth, but we knew it not; while the youth loved a singing girl, who in her turn loved my daughter. One day, I was present at an assembly, wherein were also the youth’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A well-known poet of the ninth century (A.D.).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Shaykh continued: ‘One day, I was present at an assembly wherein were also the youth and the singing girl and she chanted to us these couplets,
‘Prove how Love bringeth low
Lover those tears that run
Lowering him still the more
When pity finds he none.’
Cried the youth, ‘By Allah, thou hast said well, O my mistress.’ Dost thou incite me to die?’ Answered the girl from behind the curtain, ‘Yes, if thou be a true lover.’ So he laid his head on a cushion and closed his eyes; and when the cup came round to him, we shook him and behold, he was dead.1 Therewith we all flocked to him, and our pleasure was troubled and we grieved and broke up at once. When I came home, my people took in bad part my returning before the appointed time, and I told them what had befallen the youth, thinking that thereby I should greatly surprise them. My daughter heard my words and rising, went from the sitting chamber into another, whither I followed her and found her lying with her head on a cushion, even as I had told of the young man. So I shook her and lo! she was dead. Then we laid her out and set forth next morning to bury her, whilst the friends of the young man set forth in like guise to bury him. As we were on the way to the burial place, we met a third funeral and asking whose it was, were told that it was that of the singing girl who, hearing of my daughter’s death, had done even as she did and was dead. So we buried them all three on one day, and this is the rarest tale that ever was heard of lovers.” And they also tell a tale of
1 These easy deaths for love are a lieu common: See sundry of them in the Decameron (iv. 7, etc.); and, in the Heptameron (Nouv. Ixx.), the widow who lay down and died of love and sorrow that her passion had become known. For the fainting of lovers see Nouvelle xix.
They recount that in the City Kaukabán of Al–Yaman there was a man of the Fazlí tribe who had left Badawi life, and become a townsman for many years and was a merchant of the most opulent merchants. His wife had deceased when both were young; and his friends were instant with him to marry again, ever quoting to him the words of the poet,
“Go, gossip! re-wed thee, for Prime draweth near:
A wife is an almanac — good for the year.”
So being weary of contention, Abu Hasan entered into negotiations with the old women who procure matches, and married a maid like Canopus when he hangeth over the seas of Al–Hind. He made high festival therefor, bidding to the wedding banquet kith and kin, Olema and Fakirs; friends and foes and all his acquaintances of that countryside. The whole house was thrown open to feasting: there were rices of five several colours, and sherbets of as many more; and kids stuffed with walnuts and almonds and pistachios and a camel colt1 roasted whole. So they ate and drank and made mirth and merriment; and the bride was displayed in her seven dresses and one more, to the women, who could not take their eyes off her. At last, the bridegroom was summoned to the chamber where she sat enthroned; and he rose slowly and with dignity from his divan; but in so doing, for that he was over full of meat and drink, lo and behold! he let fly a fart, great and terrible. Thereupon each guest turned to his neighbour and talked aloud and made as though he had heard nothing, fearing for his life. But a consuming fire was lit in Abu Hasan’s heart; so he pretended a call of nature; and, in lieu of seeking the bride chamber, he went down to the house court and saddled his mare and rode off, weeping bitterly, through the shadow of the night. In time he reached Láhej where he found a ship ready to sail for India; so he shipped on board and made Calicut of Malabar. Here he met with many Arabs, especially Hazramís2, who recommended him to the King; and this King (who was a Kafir) trusted him and advanced him to the captainship of his body guard. He remained ten years in all solace and delight of life; at the end of which time he was seized with home sickness; and the longing to behold his native land was that of a lover pining for his beloved; and he came near to die of yearning desire. But his appointed day had not dawned; so, after taking the first bath of health, he left the King without leave, and in due course landed at Makallá of Hazramaut. Here he donned the rags of a religious; and, keeping his name and case secret, fared for Kaukaban afoot; enduring a thousand hardships of hunger, thirst and fatigue; and braving a thousand dangers from the lion, the snake and the Ghul. But when he drew near his old home, he looked down upon it from the hills with brimming eyes, and said in himself, “Haply they might know thee; so I will wander about the outskirts, and hearken to the folk. Allah grant that my case be not remembered by them!” He listened carefully for seven nights and seven days, till it so chanced that, as he was sitting at the door of a hut, he heard the voice of a young girl saying, “O my mother, tell me the day when I was born; for such an one of my companions is about to take an omen3 for me.” And the mother answered, “Thou was born, O my daughter, on the very night when Abu Hasan farted.” Now the listener no sooner heard these words than he rose up from the bench, and fled away saying to himself, “Verily thy fart hath become a date, which shall last for ever and ever; even as the poet said,
‘As long as palms shall shift the flower;
As long as palms shall sift the flour.’4
And he ceased not travelling and voyaging and returned to India; and there abode in self exile till he died; and the mercy of Allah be upon him!5 And they tell another story of
1 This is a favourite Badawi dish, but too expensive unless some accident happen to the animal. Old camel is much like bull-beef, but the young meat is excellent, although not relished by Europeans because, like strange fish, it has no recognised flavour. I have noticed it in my “First Footsteps” (p. 68, etc.). There is an old idea in Europe that the maniacal vengeance of the Arab is increased by eating this flesh, the beast is certainly vindictive enough; but a furious and frantic vengefulness characterises the North American Indian who never saw a camel. Mercy and pardon belong to the elect, not to the miserables who make up “ humanity.”
2 i.e. of the Province Hazramaut, the Biblical Hazarmaveth (Gen. x. 26). The people are the Swill of Arabia and noted for thrift and hard bargains; hence the saying, If you meet a serpent and a Hazrami, slay the Hazrami. To prove how ubiquitous they are it is related that a man, flying from their society, reached the uttermost parts of China where he thought himself safe. But, as he was about to pass the night in some ruin, he heard a voice bard by him exclaim, “O Imád al-Din!” (the name of the patron-saint of Hazramaut). Thereupon he arose and fled and he is, they say, flying still.
3 Arab. “Fál” alluding to the Sortes Coranicæ and other silly practices known to the English servant-girs when curious about her future and her futur.
4 i.e., in Arab-land (where they eat dates) and Ajam, or lands non-Arab (where bread is the staff of life); that is, all the world over.
5 This story is curious and ethnologically valuable. The Badawi who eructates as a civility, has a mortal hatred to a crepitus ventris; and were a by-stander to laugh at its accidental occurrence, he would at once be cut down as a “pundonor.” The same is the custom amongst the Highlanders of Afghanistan, and its artificial nature suggests direct derivation, for the two regions are separated by a host of tribes, Persians and Baloch, Sindis and Panjábis who utterly ignore the point of honour and behave like Europeans. The raids of the pre-Islamitic Arabs over the lands lying to the north-east of them are almost forgotten; still there are traces, and this may be one of them.
Kásim, son of Adi, was wont to relate that a man of the Banú Tamím spake as follows: “I went out one day in search of an estray and, coming to the waters of the Banu Tayy, saw two companies of people near one another, and behold, those of one company were disputing among themselves even as the other. So I watched them and observed, in one of the companies, a youth wasted with sickness, as he were a worn-out dried-up waterskin. And as I looked on him, lo! he repeated these couplets,
‘What ails the Beauty she returneth not?
Is’t Beauty’s irk or grudging to my lot?
I sickened and my friends all came to call;
What stayed thee calling with the friendly knot?
Hadst thou been sick, I had come running fast
To thee, nor threats had kept me from the spot:
Mid them I miss thee, and I lie alone;
Sweetheart, to lose thy love sad loss I wot!’
His words were heard by a damsel in the other company who hastened towards him, and when her people followed her, she fought them off. Then the youth caught sight of her and sprang up and ran towards her, whilst the people of his party ran after him and laid hold of him. However he haled and freed himself from them, and she in like manner loosed herself; and, when they were free, each ran to other and meeting between the two parties, embraced and fell dead upon the ground.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the young man and the maid met between the two parties and embraced and both fell dead upon the ground; whereat came there out an old man from one of the tents and stood over them exclaiming, ‘Verily, we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning!’ Then weeping sore he said, ‘Allah have ruth on you both! by the Almighty, though you were not united in your lives, I will at least unite you after your deaths.’ And he bade lay them out: so they washed them and shrouded them in one shroud and dug for them one grave and prayed one prayer over them both and buried them in one tomb; nor was there man or woman in the two parties but I saw weeping over them and buffeting their faces. Then I questioned the Shaykh of them, and he said, ‘She was my daughter and he my brother’s son; and love brought them to the pass thou seest.’ I exclaimed, ‘Allah amend thee! but why didst thou not marry them to each other?’ Quoth he, ‘I feared shame1 and dishonour; and now I am fallen into both.’ “ And they tell a tale of
1 Arab. “Al-‘Ár.” The Badawi saying is “Al-nár wa lá l-‘ár” (Hell-)fire, but not shame. The sentiment is noble. Hasan the Prophet’s grandson, a poor creature demoralised by over-marrying, chose the converse, “Shame is better than Hell-fire.” An old Arabic poem has,
“The Fire and not shame be the Lord of thee
And e’en to The Fire from shame go flee.”
Al–Hariri (Ass. of the Badawin) also has,
“For rather would I die my death than shame —
On bier be borne than bear a caitiff’s name.”
Quoth Abu ‘l-Abbás al-Mubarrad,1 “I set out one day with a company to Al-Bárid on an occasion and, coming to the monastery of Hirakl,2 we alighted in its shade. Presently a man came out to us and said, ‘There are madmen in the monastery,3 and amongst them one who speaketh wisdom; if ye saw him, ye would marvel at his speech.’ So we arose all and went into the monastery’ where we saw a man seated on a skin mat in one of the cells, with bare head and eyes intently fixed upon the wall. We saluted him, and he returned our salaam, without looking at us, and one said to us, ‘Repeat some verses to him; for, when he heareth verse, he speaketh.’ So I repeated these two couplets,
‘O best of race to whom gave Hawwa4 boon of birth,
Except for thee the world were neither sweet nor fair!
Thou’rt he, whose face, by Allah shown to man,
Doth ward off death, decay and hoary hair.’
When he heard from me this praise of the Apostle he turned towards us and repeated these lines,
‘Well Allah wotteth I am sorely plagued:
Nor can I show my pain to human sight.
Two souls have I, one soul is here contained,
While other woneth in another site.
Meseems the absent soul’s like present soul,
And that she suffers what to me is dight.’
Then he asked us. ‘Have I said well or said ill? And we answered, ‘Thou hast said the clean contrary of ill, well and right well.’ Then he put out his hand to a stone, that was by him and took it up; whereupon thinking he would throw it at us we fled from him; but he fell to beating upon his breast therewith violent blows and said to us, ‘Fear not, but draw near and hear somewhat from me and receive it from me.’ So we came back, and he repeated these couplets,
‘When they made their camels yellow white kneel down at dawning grey
They mounted her on crupper and the camel went his way,
Mine eye balls through the prison wall beheld them, and I cried
With streaming eyelids and a heart that burnt in dire dismay
O camel driver turn thy beast that I farewell my love!
In parting and farewelling her I see my doomed day
I’m faithful to my vows of love which I have never broke,
Would Heaven I kenned what they have done with vows that vowed they!’
Then he looked at me and said, ‘Say me, dost thou know what they did?’5 Answered I, ‘Yes, they are dead; Almighty Allah have mercy on them!’ At this his face changed and he sprang to his feet and cried out, ‘How knowest thou they be dead?;’ and I replied, ‘Were they alive they had not left thee thus.’ Quoth he, ‘By Allah, thou art right, and I care not to live after them.’ Then his side muscles quivered and he fell on his face; and we ran up to him and shook him and found him dead, the mercy of the Almighty be on him! At this we marvelled and mourned for him and, sore mourning, laid him out and buried him”. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A grammarian and rhetorician of ninth century.
2 Once existing in Syrian Hamáh (the Biblical Hamath); and so called because here died the Emperor Heraclius called by the Arabs “Hirakl.”
3 Till lately it was the custom to confine madmen in Syrian monasteries, hoping a cure from the patron Saint, and a terrible time they had of it. Every guide book relates the healing process as formerly pursued at the Maronite Convent Koshaya not far from Bayrut. The idiot or maniac was thrust headlong by the monks into a dismal cavern with a heavy chain round his neck, and was tied up within a span of the wall to await the arrival of Saint Anthony who especially affects this holy place. In very few weeks the patient was effectually cured or killed by cold, solitude and starvation.
4 The Moslem Eve, much nearer the Hebrew “Hawah” = the “manifester,” because (Gen. iii. 20) she was (to be) the mother of all that live (“Kull hayy”).
5 The mad lover says “they” for “she,” which would be too familiar in speaking to strangers.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that al-Mubarrad thus continued: “When the man fell we mourned over him with sore mourning and laid him out and buried him. And when I returned to Baghdad and went in to the Caliph al-Mutawakkil, he saw the trace of tears on my face and said to me, ‘What is this?’ So I told him what had passed and it was grievous to him and he cried, ‘What moved thee to deal thus with him?1 By Allah, if I thought thou didst not repent it and regret him I would punish thee therefor!’ And he mourned for him the rest of the day.” And amongst the tales they tell is one of
1 i.e. falsely to report the death.
Quoth Abu Bakr Mohammed ibn Al–Anbári1: “I once left Anbár on a journey to ‘Amúríyah,2 where there came out to me the prior of the monastery and superior of the monkery, Abd al-Masíh hight, and brought me into the building. There I found forty religious, who entertained me that night with fair guest rite, and I left them after seeing among them such diligence in adoration and devotion as I never beheld the like of in any others. Next day I farewelled them and fared forth and, after doing my business at ‘Amuriyah, I returned to my home at Anbar. And next year I made pilgrimage to Meccah and as I was circumambulating the Holy House I saw Abd al-Masih the monk also compassing the Ka’abah, and with him five of his fellows, the shavelings. Now when I was sure that it was indeed he, I accosted him, saying, ‘Art thou not Abd al-Masih, the Religious?’ and he replied, ‘Nay, I am Abdallah, the Desirous.’3 Therewith I fell to kissing his grey hairs and shedding tears; then, taking him by the hand, I led him aside into a corner of the Temple and said to him, ‘Tell me the cause of thy conversion to al-Islam;’ and he made reply, ‘Verily, ’twas a wonder of wonders, and befell thus. A company of Moslem devotees came to the village wherein is our convent, and sent a youth to buy them food. He saw, in the market, a Christian damsel selling bread, who was of the fairest of women; and he was struck at first sight with such love of her, that his senses failed him and he fell on his face in a fainting fit. When he revived, he returned to his companions and told them what had befallen him, saying, ‘Go ye about your business; I may not go with you.’ They chided him and exhorted him, but he paid no heed to them; so they left him whilst he entered the village and seated himself at the door of the woman’s booth.4 She asked him what he wanted, and he told her that he was in love with her whereupon she turned from him; but he abode in his place three days without tasting food, keeping his eyes fixed on her face. Now whenas she saw that he departed not from her, she went to her people and acquainted them with his case, and they set on him the village boys, who stoned him and bruised his ribs and broke his head; but, for all this, he would not budge. Then the villagers took counsel together to slay him; but a man of them came to me and told me of his case, and I went out to him and found him lying prostrate on the ground. So I wiped the blood from his face and carried him to the convent, and dressed his wounds; and there he abode with me fourteen days. But as soon as he could walk, he left the monastery”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A famous grammarian, etc., of the tenth century.
2 The classical Amorium in Phrygia now Anatolia: Anbár is a town (before mentioned) on the Euphrates; by the rules of Arabic grammar the word is pronounced (though never written) Ambár.
3 “Art thou not the slave of the Messiah, the Ráhib (monk)?” “No! I am the slave of Allah, the Rághib (desirous of mercy from the Almighty). “ A fair specimen of the Saj’a or rhymed prose. Abdallah (properly “Abdu’llah:”) is a kind of neutral name, neither Jewish, Moslem nor Christian; hence I adopted it, (Pilgrimage i. 20.)
4 Arab. “Hanut,” prop. a tavern where liquors are sold, a term applied contemptuously to shops, inns, etc., kept by Christians.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdallah the Religious continued: “So I carried him to the convent and dressed his wounds, and he abode with me fourteen days. But as soon as he could walk, he left the monastery and returned to the door of the woman ‘s booth, where he sat gazing on her as before. When she saw him she came out to him and said, ‘By Allah thou movest me to pity! wilt thou enter my faith that I may marry thee?’ He cried, ‘Allah forbid that I should put off the faith of Unity and enter that of Plurality!’1 Quoth she, ‘Come in with me to my house and take thy will of me and wend thy ways in peace.’ Quoth he, ‘Not so, I will not waste the worship of twelve years for the lust of an eye-twinkle.’ Said she, ‘Then depart from me forthwith;’ and he said, ‘My heart will not suffer me to do that;’ whereupon she turned her countenance from him. Presently the boys found him out and began to pelt him with stones; and he fell on his face, saying, ‘Verily, Allah is my protector, who sent down the Book of the Koran; and He protecteth the Righteous!2 At this I sallied forth and driving away the boys, lifted his head from the ground and heard him say, ‘Allah mine, unite me with her in Paradise!’ Then I carried him to the monastery, but he died, before I could reach it, and I bore him without the village and I dug for him a grave and buried him. And next night when half of it was spent, the damsel cried with a great cry (and she in her bed); so the villagers flocked to her and questioned her of her case. Quoth she, ‘As I slept, behold the Moslem man came in to me and taking me by the hand, carried me to the gate of Paradise; but the Guardian denied me entrance, saying, ’Tis forbidden to unbelievers.’ So I embraced Al Islam at his hands and, entering with him, beheld therein pavilions and trees, such as I cannot describe to you. Moreover, he brought me to a pavilion of jewels and said to me, ‘Of a truth this is my pavilion and thine, nor will I enter it save with thee; but, after five nights thou shalt be with me therein, if it be the will of Allah Almighty.’ Then he put forth his hand to a tree which grew at the door of the pavilion and plucked there from two apples and gave them to me, saying, ‘Eat this and keep the other, that the monks may see it.’ So I ate one of them and never tasted I aught sweeter.’ “— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the woman continued: “‘So he plucked two apples and gave them to me, saying, ‘Eat this and keep the other that the monks may see it.’ So I ate one of them and never tasted I aught sweeter. Then he took my hand and fared forth and carried me back to my house; and, when I awoke, I found the taste of the apple in my mouth and the other in my hand.’ So saying she brought out the apple, and in the darkness of the night it shone as it were a sparkling star. So they carried her (and the apple with her) to the monastery, where she repeated her vision and showed it to us; never saw we its like among all the fruits of the world. Then I took a knife and cut the apple into pieces according as we were folk in company; and never knew we aught more delicious than its savour nor more delightsome than its scent; but we said, ‘Haply this was a devil that appeared unto her to seduce her from her faith.’ Thereupon her people took her and went away; but she abstained from eating and drinking and on the fifth night she rose from her bed, and going forth the village to the grave of her Moslem lover threw herself upon it and died, her family not knowing what was come of her. But, on the morrow, there came to the village two Moslem elders, clad in hair cloth, and with them two women in like garb, and said, ‘O people of the village, with you is a woman Saint, a Waliyah of the friends of Allah, who died a Moslemah; and we will take charge of her in lieu of you.’ So the villagers sought her and found her dead on the Moslem’s grave; and they said, ‘This was one of us and she died in our faith; so we will take charge of her.’ Rejoined the two old men, ‘Nay, she died a Moslemah and we claim her.’ And the dispute waxed to a quarrel between them, till one of the Shaykhs said, ‘Be this the test of her faith: the forty monks of the monastery shall come and try to lift her from the grave. If they succeed, then she died a Nazarene; if not, one of us shall come and lift her up and if she be lifted by him, she died a Moslemah.’ The villagers agreed to this and fetched the forty monks, who heartened one another, and came to her to lift her, but could not. Then we tied a great rope round her middle and haled at it; but the rope broke in sunder, and she stirred not; and the villagers came and did the like, but could not move her from her place.1 At last, when all means failed, we said to one of the two Shaykhs, ‘Come thou and lift her.’ So he went up to the grave and, covering her with his mantle, said, ‘In the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate, and of the Faith of the Apostle of Allah, on whom be prayers and peace!’ Then he lifted her and, taking her in his bosom, betook himself with her to a cave hard by, where they laid her, and the two women came and washed her and shrouded her. Then the two elders bore her to her Moslem lover’s grave and prayed over her and buried her by his side and went their ways. Now we were eye witnesses of all this; and, when we were alone with one another, we said, ‘In sooth, the truth is most worthy to be followed;’2 and indeed the verity hath been made manifest to us, nor is there a proof more patent of the truth of al-Islam than that we have seen this day with our eyes.’ So I and all the monks became Moslems and on like wise did the villagers; and we sent to the people of Mesopotamia for a doctor of the law, to instruct us in the ordinances of al-Islam and the canons of the Faith. They sent us a learned man and a pious, who taught us the rites of prayer and the tenets of the faith; and we are now in ease abounding; so to Allah be the praise and the thanks!” And they also tell a tale of
1 This minor miracle is commonly reported, and is not, I believe, unknown to modern “Spiritualism.” The dead Wali or Waliyah (Saintess) often impels the bier-bearers to the spot where he would be buried: hence in Cairo the tombs scattered about the city. Lane notices it, Mod. E. chaps. xxviii.
2 Koran x. 36, speaking of being turned aside from the true worship.
Quoth Amrú bin Masa’dah:1 “Abú Isá, son of al-Rashíd and brother to al-Maamun, was enamoured of one Kurrat al-Ayn, a slave girl belonging to Ali bin Hishám,2 and she also loved him; but he concealed his passion, complaining of it to none neither discovering his secret to anyone, of his pride and magnanimity; for he had used his utmost endeavour to purchase her of her master, but he had failed. At last when his patience was at an end and his passion was sore on him and he was helpless in the matter, he went in to al-Maamun, one day of state after the folk had retired, and said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, if thou wilt this day make trial of thine Alcaydes by taking them unawares, thou wilt know the generous from the mean and note each one’s place, after the quality of his mind.’ But, in saying this he purposed only to sit with Kurrat al-Ayn in her lord’s house. Quoth al-Maamun, ‘Right is thy recking,’ and bade make ready a barge, called ‘the Flyer,’ wherein he embarked with Abu Isa and a party of his chief officers. The first mansion he visited unexpectedly was that of Hamíd al-Tawil of Tús, whom he found seated”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 One of the Wazirs of al-Maamun, Kurrat al-Ayn = “coolness (i.e. delight) of the eyes” Ali bin Hishám surnamed Abu’l-Hasan, was prefect of Baghdad under the same reign.
2 The Mac. Edit. (ii. 448) reads for Kawáid (plur. of Káid = Governors, Span. Alcayde) “Fawáid”: hence Lane (ii. 606) translates “ try thy heart.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that al-Maamun embarked with his chief officers and fared on till they reached the mansion of Hamíd al-Tawil of Tús; and, unexpectedly entering they found him seated on a mat and before him singers and players with lutes and flageolets and other instruments of music in their hands. So Al Maamun sat with him awhile and presently he set before him dishes of nothing but flesh meat, with no birds among them. The Caliph would not taste thereof and Abu Isa said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, we have taken the owner of this place unawares, and he knew not of thy coming; but now let us go to another place which is prepared for thee and fitted for thee.” Thereupon the Caliph arose and betook himself with his brother Abu Isa and his suite, to the abode of Ali son of Hisham who, on hearing of their approach, came out and received them with the goodliest of reception, and kissed the earth before the King. Then he brought them into his mansion and opened to them a saloon than which seer never saw a goodlier. Its floors, pillars and walls were of many coloured marbles, adorned with Greek paintings: and it was spread with matting of Sind1 whereon were carpets and tapestry of Bassorah make, fitted to the length and breadth of the room. So the Caliph sat awhile, examining the house and its ceilings and walls, then said, “Give us somewhat to eat.” So they brought him forthwith nearly an hundred dishes of poultry besides other birds and brewises, fritters and cooling marinades. When he had eaten, he said, “Give us some thing to drink, O Ali;” and the host set before him, in vessels of gold and silver and crystal, raisin wine boiled down to one third with fruits and spices; and the cupbearers were pages like moons, clad in garments of Alexandrian stuff interwoven with gold and bearing on their breasts beakers of crystal, full of rose water mingled with musk. So al-Maamun marvelled with exceeding marvel at all he saw and said, “Ho thou, Abu al-Hasan!” Whereupon Ali sprang to the Caliph’s carpet and kissing it, said, “At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful!” and stood before him. Quoth al-Maamun, “Let us hear some pleasant and merry song.” Replied Ali, “I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,” and said to one of his eunuchs, “Fetch the singing women.” So the slave went out and presently returned, followed by ten castratos, bearing ten stools of gold, which they set down in due order; and after these came ten damsels, concubines of the master, as they were shining full moons or gardens full of bloom, clad in black brocade, with crowns of gold on their heads; and they passed along the room till they sat down on the stools, when sang they sundry songs. Al–Maamun looked at one of them; and, being captivated by her elegance and fair favour, asked her, “What is thy name, O damsel?”; and she answered, “My name is Sajáhí,2 O Commander of the Faithful,” and he said, “Sing to us, O Sajahi!” So she played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
“I walk, for fear of interview, the weakling’s walk
Who sees two lion whelps the fount draw nigh:
My cloak acts sword, my heart’s perplex’d with fright,
Lest jealous hostile eyes th’ approach descry:
Till sudden hapt I on a delicate maid
Like desert-doe that fails her fawns to espy.”
Quoth the Caliph, “Thou hast done well, O damsel! whose are these lines?” She answered, “Written by Amru bin Ma’di Karib al -Zubaydi,3 and the air is Ma’abid’s.”4 Then the Caliph and Abu Isa and Ali drank and the damsels went away and were succeeded by other ten, all clad in flowered silk of Al–Yaman, brocaded with gold, who sat down on the chairs and sang various songs. The Caliph looked at one of the concubines, who was like a wild heifer of the waste, and said to her, “What is thy name, O damsel?” She replied, “My name is Zabiyah,5 0 Commander of the Faithful;” and he, “Sing to us Zabiyah;” so she warbled like a bird with many a trill and sang these two couplets,
“Houris, and highborn Dames who feel no fear of men,
Like Meccan game forbidden man to slam:6
Their soft sweet voices make you deem them whores,
But bars them from all whoring Al–Islam.”
When she had finished, al-Maamun cried, “favoured of Allah art thou!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The mats of Sind were famous even in my day, but under English rule native industries are killed out by Manchester and Birmingham.
2 Sajáh was the name of a famous female impostor, a contemporary of “Musaylimah the Liar.”
3 A poet of Mohammed’s day.
4 A singer and composer of the first century (A. H.).
5 Arab = a roe, a doe; also the Yoni (of women, mares and bitches). It is the Heb. Tabitha and the Greek Dorcas.
6 Within the Hudúd al-Harem (bounds of the Holy Places), at Al–Medinah as well as Meccah, all “Muharramát” (forbidden sins) are doubly unlawful, such as drinking spirits, immoral life, etc. The Imam Malik forbids slaying animals without, however, specifying any penalty. The felling of trees is a disputed point; and no man can be put to death except invaders, infidels and desecraters. (Pilgrimage ii. 167.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the slave girl finished her song, al-Maamun cried, “Favoured of Allah art thou! Whose is this verse?” and she answered, “Jarír’s1 and the air is By Ibn Surayj.” Then the Caliph and his company drank, whilst the girls went away and there came forth yet other ten, as they were rubies, robed in red brocade inwoven with gold and purfled with pearls and jewels whilst all their heads were bare. They sat down on the stools and sang various airs; so the Caliph looked at one of them, who was like the sun of the day, and asked her, “What is thy name, O damsel?”; and she answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, my name is Fátin.” “Sing to us, O Fatin,” quoth he; whereat she played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
“Deign grant thy favours; since ’tis time I were engraced;
Tnough of severance hath it been my lot to taste.
Thou’rt he whose face cloth every gift and charm unite,
Yet is my patience spent for that ’twas sore misplaced:
I’ve wasted life in loving thee; and would high Heaven
Grant me one meeting hour for all this wilful waste.”
“Well sung, O Fatin!’’ exclaimed the Caliph; “whose verse is this?” And she answered, “Adi bin Zayd’s, and the air is antique.” Then all three drank, whilst the damsels retired and were succeeded by other ten maidens, as they were sparkling stars, clad in flowered silk embroidered with red gold and girt with jewelled zones. They sat down and sang various motives; and the Caliph asked one of them, who was like a wand of willow, “What is thy name, O damsel?”; and she answered, “My name is Rashaa,2 0 Commander of the Faithful.” “Sing to us, O Rashaa,” quoth he; so she played a lively measure and sang these couplets,
“And wand-like Houri, who can passion heal
Like young gazelle that paceth o’er the plain:
I drain this wine cup on the toast, her cheek,
Each cup disputing till she bends in twain
Then sleeps the night with me, the while I cry
‘This is the only gain my Soul would gain!’ ”
Said the Caliph, “Well done, O damsel! Sing us something more.” So she rose and kissing the ground before him, sang the following distich,
“She came out to gaze on the bridal at ease
In a shift that reeked of ambergris.”
The Caliph was highly pleased with this couplet and, when the slave girl saw how much it delighted him, she repeated it several times. Then said al-Maamun, “Bring up ‘the Flyer,’” being minded to embark and depart: but Ali bin Hisham said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have a slave girl, whom I bought for ten thousand diners; she hath taken my heart in whole and part, and I would fain display her to the Commander of the Faithful. If she please him and he will accept of her, she is his: and if not, let him hear something from her.” Said the Caliph, “Bring her to me;” and forth came a damsel, as she were a branchlet of willow, with seducing eyes and eyebrows set like twin bows; and on her head she wore a crown of red gold crusted with pearls and jewelled, under which was a fillet bearing this couplet wrought in letters of chrysolite,
“A Jinniyah this, with her Jinn, to show
How to pierce man’s heart with a stringless bow!”
The handmaiden walked, with the gait of a gazelle in flight and fit to damn a devotee, till she came to a chair, whereon she seated herself. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A poet of the first century (A.H.).
2 In Arab. =a fawn beginning to walk, also the 28th lunar mansion or station, usually known as Batn al-Hut or Whale’s belly. These mansions or houses, the constellations through which the moon passes in her course along her orbit, are much used in Moslem astrology and meteorology.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the hand maiden walked with the gait of a gazelle in flight, fit to damn a devotee, till she came to a chair whereon she seated herself. And Al–Maamun marvelled at her beauty and loveliness; but, when Abu Isa saw her, his heart throbbed with pain, his colour changed to pale and wan and he was in evil case. Asked the Caliph, “O Abu Isa, what aileth thee to change thus?”; and he answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, it is because of a twitch that seizeth me betimes.” Quoth the Caliph, “Hast thou known yonder damsel before to day?” Quoth he, “Yes, O Commander of the Faithful, can the moon be concealed?” Then said al-Maamun to her, “What is thy name, O damsel?”; and she replied, “My name is Kurrat al-Ayn. O Commander of the Faithful,” and he rejoined, “Sing to us, O Kurrat al-Ayn.” So she sang these two couplets,
“The loved ones left thee in middle night,
And fared with the pilgrims when dawn shone bright:
The tents of pride round the domes they pitched,
And with broidered curtains were veiled fro’ sight.”
Quoth the Caliph, “Favoured of Heaven art thou, O Kurrat al-Ayn! Whose song is that?”; whereto she answered “The words are by Di’ibil al-Khuza’i, and the air by Zurzúr al-Saghír.” Abu Isa looked at her and his tears choked him; so that the company marvelled at him. Then she turned to al-Maamun and said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, wilt thou give me leave to change the words?” Said he, “Sing what thou wilt;” so she played a merry measure and carolled these couplets,
“If thou should please a friend who pleaseth thee
Frankly, in public practise secrecy.
And spurn the slanderer’s tale, who seldom1 seeks
Except the severance of true love to see.
They say, when lover’s near, he tires of love,
And absence is for love best remedy:
Both cures we tried and yet we are not cured,
Withal we judge that nearness easier be:
Yet nearness is of no avail when he
Thou lovest lends thee love unwillingly.”
But when she had finished, Abu Isa said, “O Commander of the Faithful,” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. Kalla-má = it is seldom (rare) that etc. used in books.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kurrat al-Ayn had finished her verse, Abu Isa said, “O Commander of the Faithful, though we endure disgrace, we shall be at ease.1 Dost thou give me leave to reply to her?” Quoth the Caliph, “Yes, say what thou wilt to her.” So he swallowed his tears and sang these two distichs,
“Silent I woned and never owned my love;
But from my heart I hid love’s blissful boon;
Yet, if my eyes should manifest my love,
’Tis for my nearness to the shining moon.”
Then Kurrat al-Ayn took the lute and played a lively tune and rejoined with these couplets,
“An what thou claimest were the real truth,
With only Hope content thou hadst not been
Nor couldest patient live without the girl
So rare of inner grace and outward mien.
But there is nothing in the claim of thee
At all, save tongue and talk that little mean.”
When Abu Isa heard this he fell to weeping and wailing and evidencing his trouble and anguish. Then he raised his eyes to her and sighing, repeated these couplets,
“Under my raiment a waste body lies,
And in my spirit all comprising prize.
I have a heart, whose pain shall aye endure,
And tears like torrents pour these woeful eyes.
Whene’er a wise man spies me, straight he chides
Love, that misleads me thus in ways unwise:
O Lord, I lack the power this dole to bear:
Come sudden Death or joy in bestest guise!”
When he had ended, Ali bin Hisham sprang up and kissing his feet, said, “O my lord, Allah hearing thy secret hath answered thy prayer and consenteth to thy taking her with all she hath of things rare and fair, so the Commander of the Faithful have no mind to her.” Quoth Al Maamun, “Had we a mind to her, we would prefer Abu Isa before ourselves and help him to his desire.” So saying, he rose and embarking, went away, whilst Abu Isa tarried for Kurrat al-Ayn, whom he took and carried to his own house, his breast swelling with joy. See then the generosity of Ali son of Hisham! And they tell a tale of
1 Dishonoured by his love being made public. So Hafiz, Petrarch and Camoens.
Al–Amin,1 brother of al-Maamun, once entered the house of his uncle Ibrahim bin al-Mahdi, where he saw a slave girl playing upon the lute; and, she being one of the fairest of women, his heart inclined to her. Ibrahim, seeing how it was with him, sent the girl to him, with rich raiment and precious ornaments. When he saw her, he thought that his uncle had lain with her; so he was loath to have to do with her, because of that, and accepting what came with her sent her back to Ibrahim. His uncle learnt the cause of this from one of al-Amin’s eunuchs; so he took a shift of watered silk and worked upon its skirt, in letters of gold, these two couplets,
“No! I declare by Him to whom all bow,
Of nothing ‘neath her petticoat I trow:
Nor meddle with her mouth; nor aught did I
But see and hear her, and it was enow!”
Then he clad her in the shift and, giving her a lute, sent her back again to his nephew. When she came into al-Amin’s presence, she kissed ground before him and tuning the lute, sang thereto these two couplets,
“Thy breast thou baredst sending back the gift;
Showing unlove for me withouten shift:
An thou bear spite of Past, the Past forgive,
And for the Caliphate cast the Past adrift.”
When she had made an end of her verse, Al–Amin looked at her and, seeing what was upon her skirt, could no longer control him self, And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Sixth Abbaside, A.D. 809–813.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Al–Amin looked at the damsel and saw what was upon her skirt, he could no longer control himself, but drew near unto her and kissed her and appointed her a separate lodging in his palace. Moreover, he thanked his uncle for this and bestowed on him the government of Rayy. And a tale is told of
Al–Mutawakkil1 was once taking medicine, and folk sent him by way of solace all sorts of presents and rarities and things costly and precious. Amongst others, al-Fath bin Khákán2 sent him a virgin slave, high breasted, of the fairest among women of her time, and with her a vase of crystal, containing ruddy wine, and a goblet of red gold, whereon were graven in black these couplets,
“Since our Imam came forth from medicine,
Which made him health and heartiness rewin,
There is no healing draught more sovereign
Than well boiled wine this golden goblet in:
Then let him break the seal for him secured;
’Tis best prescription after medicine3
Now when the damsel entered, the physician Yohanná4 was with the Caliph, and as he read the couplets, he smiled and said, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, Fath is better versed than I in the art of healing: so let not the Prince of True Believers gainsay his prescription.” Accordingly, the Caliph followed the recipe contained in the poetry and was made whole by the blessing of Allah and won his every wish. And among tales they tell is one of
1 Ala’llah, tenth Abbaside, A. H. 232–47 (847–61), grandson of Al–Rashid who succeeded Al-Wásik. He was a fanatic Sunni, much opposed to the Shi’ahs and he ordered the Christians to wear round their necks the Ghull (collar of wood, iron, or leather), to dress in yellow head-gear and girdles, use wooden stirrups and place figures of devils in front of their dwelling-houses. He also gave distinct dresses to their women and slaves. The Ghull, or collar, was also used for a punishment and vermin gathered under it when riveted round the neck: hence Golius calls it “pediculosum columbar.”
2 Wazir of the above. killed by al-Muntasir Billah A. H. 247 (= 861).
3 Easterns during purgation are most careful and deride the want of precaution in Europeans. They do not leave the house till all is passed off, and avoid baths, wine and women which they afterwards resume with double zest. Here “breaking the seal” is taking the girl’s maidenhead.
4 Johannes, a Greek favoured by Al–Mutawakkil and other Abbaside Caliphs.
Quoth a certain man of learning, “I never saw amongst woman kind one wittier, and wiser, better read and by nature more generously bred; and in manners and morals more perfected than a preacher of the people of Baghdad, by name Sitt al-Mashá‘ikh.1 It chanced that she came to Hamah city in the year of the Flight five hundred and sixty and one2; and there delivered salutary exhortations to the folk from the professorial chair. Now there used to visit her house a number of students of divinity and persons of learning and polite letters, who would discuss with her questions of theology and dispute with her on controversial points. I went to her one day, with a friend of mine, a man of years and education; and when we had taken our seats, she set before us a dish of fruit and seated herself behind a curtain. Now she had a brother, a handsome youth, who stood behind us, to serve us. And when we had eaten we fell to disputing upon points of divinity, and I propounded to her a theological question bearing upon a difference between the Imams, the Founders of the Four Schools. She proceeded to speak in answer, whilst I listened; but all the while my friend fell to looking upon her brother’s face and admiring his beauties without paying any heed to what she discoursed. Now as she was watching him from behind the curtain; when she had made an end of her speech, she turned to him and said, ‘Methinks thou be of those who give men the preference over women!’ He replied, ‘Assuredly,’ and she asked, ‘And why so?’; whereto he answered, ‘For that Allah hath made the masculine worthier than the feminine,’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Shaykh replied, “ ‘For that Allah hath made the masculine worthier than the feminine; and I like the excelling and mislike the excelled.’ She laughed and presently said, ‘Wilt thou deal fairly with me in debate, if I battle the matter with thee?’ and he rejoined, ‘Yes.’ Then quoth she, ‘What is the evidence of the superiority of the male to the female?’ Quoth he, ‘It is of two kinds, traditional and reasonable. The authoritative part deriveth from the Koran and the Traditions of the Apostle. As for the first we have the very words of Almighty Allah, ‘Men shall have the pre-eminence above women because of those advantages wherein Allah hath caused the one of them to excel the other;1 and again, ‘If there be not two men, let there be one man and two women;’2 and again, when treating of inheritance, ‘If there be brothers and sisters let a male have as much as the portion of two females.’3 Thus Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath in these places preferred the male over the female and teacheth that a woman is as the half of a man, for that he is worthier than she. As for the Sunnah traditions, is it not reported of the Prophet (whom Allah save and assain!) that he appointed the blood money for a woman to be half that of a man. And as for the evidence of reason, the male is the agent and active and the female the patient and passive.’4 Rejoined she, ‘Thou hast said well, O my lord, but, by Allah, thou hast proved my contention with thine own lips and hast advanced evidence which telleth against thee, and not for thee. And thus it is: Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) preferred the male above the female solely because of the inherent condition and essential quality of masculinity; and in this there is no dispute between us. Now this quality of male-hood is common to the child, the boy, the youth, the adult and the old man; nor is there any distinction between them in this. If, then, the superior excellence of male masculant belong to him solely by virtue of manhood, it behoveth that thy heart incline and thy sole delight in the graybeard, equally with the boy; seeing that there is no distinction between them, in point of male-hood. But the difference between thee and me turneth upon the accident of qualities that are sought as constituting the pleasure of intercourse and its enjoyment; and thou hast adduced no proof of the superiority of the youth over the young girl in this matter of non-essentials.’ He made answer, ‘O reverend lady, knowest thou not that which is peculiar to the youth of limber shape and rosy cheeks and pleasant smile and sweetness of speech? Youths are, in these respects superior to women; and the proof of this is what they traditionally report of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!) that he said, ‘Stay not thy gaze upon the beardless, for in them is a momentary eye glance at the black eyed girls of Paradise.’ Nor indeed is the superiority of the lad over the lass hidden to any of mankind, and how well saith Abu Nowas,5
‘The least of him is the being free
From monthly courses and pregnancy.’
And the saying of another poet,
‘Quoth our Imam, Abu Nowas, who was
For mad debauch and waggishness renowned:
‘O tribe that loves the cheeks of boys, take fill
Of joys in Paradise shall ne’er be found!’
So if any one enlarge in praise of a slave girl and wish to enhance her value by the mention of her beauties, he likeneth her to a youth,’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Koran iv. 38. I have before noted what the advantages are.
2 Koran ii. 282, “of those whom ye shall choose for witnesses.”
3 Koran iv. 175, “Whereas if there be two sisters, they inherit only two-thirds between them.”
4 The secondary meaning is “Fá‘il” = the active sodomite and “Mafa’úl” = the passive, a catamite: the former is not an insulting word, the latter is a most injurious expression. “Novimus et qui te!”
5 It is an unpleasant fact that almost all the poetry of Háfiz is addressed to youths, as we see by the occasional introduction of Arabic (e.g., Afáka’lláh). Persian has no genders properly so called, hence the effect is less striking. Sa’di, the “Persian Moralist” begins one of the tales, “A certain learned man fell in love with a beautiful son of a blacksmith,” which Gladwin, translating for the general, necessarily changed to “daughter.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Shaykh continued, “‘So if any one enlarge in praise of a slave girl and wish to enhance her value by the mention of her beauties, he likeneth her to a youth, because of the illustrious qualities that belong to the male, even as saith the poet,
‘Boy like of backside, in the deed of kind,
She sways, as sways the wand like boughs a-wind.’
An youths, then, were not better and fairer than girls, why should these be likened to them? And know also (Almighty Allah preserve thee!) that a youth is easy to be led, adapting himself to every rede, pleasant of converse and manners, inclining to assent rather than dissent, especially when his side face is newly down’d and his upper lip is first embrowned, and the purple lights of youth on his cheeks abound, so that he is like the full moon sound; and how goodly is the saying of Abu Tammám1,
‘The slanderers said ‘There’s hair upon his cheeks’;
Quoth I, ‘Exceed not, that’s no blemish there.’
When he could bear that haling of his hips
And pearl-beads shaded by mustachio hair;2
And Rose swore solemn, holiest oath that is,
From that fair cheek she nevermore would fare
I spoke with eyelids without need of speech,
And they who answered me his eyebrows were.
He’s even fairer than thou knewest him,
And cheek down guards from all would overdare.
Brighter and sweeter now are grown his charms,
Since down robes lip and cheek before were bare.
And those who blame me for my love of him,
When him they mention say of him, ‘Thy Fair’!’
And quoth al-Hariri3 and quoth excellently well,
‘My censors say, ‘What means this pine for him?
Seest not the flowing hair on cheeks a flowing?’
I say, ‘By Allah, an ye deem I dote,
Look at the truth in those fine eyes a-showing!
But for the down that veils his cheek and chin,
His brow had dazed all eyes no sight allowing:
And whoso sojourns in a growthless land,
How shall he move from land fair growths a-growing?’
And quoth another,
‘My blamers say of me, ‘He is consoled,’ And lie!
No consolation comes to those who pine and sigh.
I had no solace when Rose bloomed alone on cheek,
Now Basil blooms thereon and now consoled am I.’
And again,
‘Slim waisted one, whose looks with down of cheek
In slaughtering mankind each other hurtle
With the Narcissus blade he sheddeth blood,
The baldrick of whose sheath is freshest myrtle.’4
And again,
‘Not with his must I’m drunk, but verily
Those curls turn manly heads like newest wine5
Each of his beauties envies each, and all
Would be the silky down on side face li’en.’
Such are the excellencies of the youth which women do not own, and they more than suffice to give those the preference over these.’ She replied, ‘Allah give thee health! verily, thou hast imposed the debate upon thyself; and thou hast spoken and hast not stinted and hast brought proofs to support every assertion. But, ‘Now is the truth become manifest;’6 so swerve thou not from the path thereof; and, if thou be not content with a summary of evidence, I will set it before thee in fullest detail. Allah upon thee, where is the youth beside the girl and who shall compare kid and wild cow? The girl is soft of speech, fair of form, like a branchlet of basil, with teeth like chamomile-petals and hair like halters wherefrom to hang hearts. Her cheeks are like blood-red anemones and her face like a pippin: she hath lips like wine and breasts like pomegranates twain and a shape supple as a rattan-cane. Her body is well formed and with sloping shoulders dight; she hath a nose like the edge of a sword shining bright and a forehead brilliant white and eyebrows which unite and eyes stained by Nature’s hand black as night. If she speak, fresh young pearls are scattered from her mouth forthright and all hearts are ravished by the daintiness of her sprite; when she smileth thou wouldst ween the moon shone out her lips between and when she eyes thee, sword blades flash from the babes of her eyes. In her all beauties to conclusion come, and she is the centre of attraction to traveller and stay-at-home. She hath two lips of cramoisy, than cream smoother and of taste than honey sweeter,’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The famous author of the Anthology called Al–Hamásah.
2 i.e., teeth under the young mustachio.
3 The “Silk man” and the celebrated author of the Makámát, assemblies or seances translated (or attempted) into all the languages of Europe. We have two in English, the first by Theodore Preston, M.A. (London, Madden, 1850); but it contains only twenty of the fifty pieces. The second by the late Mr. Chenery (before alluded to) ends with the twenty-sixth assembly: one volume in fact, the other never having been finished. English readers, therefore, are driven to the grand edition of the Makámát in folio by Baron Silvestre de Sacy.
4 The sword of the eye has a Hamáil (baldrick worn over right shoulder, Pilgrimage i. 352) to support the “Ghimd” (vulg. Ghamad) or scabbard (of wood or leather): and this baldrick is the young whisker.
5 The conceit of “Suláfat” (ptisane, grape juice allowed to drain on the slabs) and “Sawálif” (tresses, locks) has been explained. The newest wine is the most inebriating, a fact not much known in England, but familiar to the drinker of “Vino novo.”
6 Koran xii. 51, this said by the nobleman’s (Potiphar’s) wife who adds, “I selected him to lie with me; and he (Joseph) is one of those who speak truth.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the preacher woman thus pursued her theme in the praise of fair maids, “‘She hath two lips of cramoisy, than cream smoother and than honey sweeter;’ adding, ‘And she hath a bosom, as it were a way two hills between which are a pair of breasts like globes of ivory sheen; likewise, a stomach right smooth, flanks soft as the palm-spathe and creased with folds and dimples which overlap one another, and liberal thighs, which like columns of pearl arise, and back parts which billow and beat together like seas of glass or mountains of glance, and two feet and hands of gracious mould like unto ingots of virgin gold. So, O miserable! where are mortal men beside the Jinn? Knowest thou not that puissant princes and potent Kings before women ever humbly bend and on them for delight depend? Verily, they may say, ‘We rule over necks and rob hearts.’ These women! how many a rich man have they not paupered, how many a powerful man have they not prostrated and how many a superior man have they not enslaved! Indeed, they seduce the sage and send the saint to shame and bring the wealthy to want and plunge the fortune favoured into penury. Yet for all this, the wise but redouble in affection of them and honour; nor do they count this oppression or dishonour. How many a man for them hath offended his Maker and called down on him self the wrath of his father and mother! And all this because of the conquest of their love over hearts. Knowest thou not, O wretched one, that for them are built pavilions, and slave girls are for sale;1 that for them tear floods rail and for them are collected jewels of price and ambergris and musk odoriferous; and armies are arrayed and pleasaunces made and wealth heaped up and smitten off is many a head? And indeed he spoke sooth in the words, ‘Whoso saith the world meaneth woman.’ Now as for thy citation from the Holy Traditions, it is an argument against thee and not for thee in that the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!) compareth the beardless with the black eyed girls of Paradise. Now, doubtless, the subject of comparison is worthier than the object there with compared; so, unless women be the worthier and the goodlier, wherefore should other than they be likened to them? As for thy saying that girls are likened to boys, the case is not so, but the contrary: boys are likened to girls; for folk say, Yonder boy is like a girl. As for what proof thou quotest from the poets, the verses were the product of a complexion unnatural in this respect; and as for the habitual sodomites and catamites, offenders against religion, Almighty Allah hath condemned them in His Holy Book,2 herein He denounceth their filthy practices, saying, ‘Do ye approach unto the males among mankind3 and leave your wives which your Lord hath created for you? Surely ye are a people who transgress!’ These it is that liken girls to boys, of their exceeding profligacy and ungraciousness and inclination to follow the fiend and own lusts, so that they say, ‘She is apt for two tricks,’4 and these are all wanderers from the way of right and the righteous. Quoth their chief Abu Nowas,
‘Slim waist and boyish wits delight
Wencher, as well as Sodomite,’5
As for what thou sayest of a youth’s first hair on cheek and lips and how they add to his beauty and loveliness, by Allah, thou strayest from the straight path of sooth and sayest that which is other than the truth; for whiskers change the charms of the comely into ugliness (quoting these couplets),
‘That sprouting hair upon his face took wreak
For lovers’ vengeance, all did vainly seek.
I see not on his face a sign fuli —
genous, except his curls are hue of reek.
If so his paper6 mostly be begrimed
Where deemest thou the reed shall draw a streak?
If any raise him other fairs above,
This only proves the judge of wits is weak.’
And when she ended her verse she resumed, ‘Laud be to Allah Almighty,’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here we have a specimen of the strained Saj’a or balanced prose: slave-girls (jawárí) are massed with flowing tears (dam’u jári) on account of the Káfiyah or rhyme.
2 The detected sodomite is punished with death according to Moslem law, but again comes the difficulty of proof. At Shiraz I have heard of a pious Moslem publicly executing his son.
3 Koran xxvi. 165 et seq. The Lord speaks to the “people of Lot” (Sodomites). Mr. Payne renders “Min al-álamíma,” “from the four corners of the world.”
4 Meaning before and behind, a Moslemah “Bet Balmanno.”
5 Arab. “ Lúti,” (plur. Lawátí), much used in Persian as a buffoon, a debauchee, a rascal. The orig. sig. is “One of (the people of) Lot.” The old English was Ingle or Yngle (a bardachio, a catamite, a boy kept for sodomy), which Minsheu says is, “Vox hispanica et significat Latinè Inguen” (the groin). Our vulgar modern word like the Italian bugiardo is pop. derived from Fr. Bougre, alias Bulgarus, a Bulgarian, a heretic: hence Boulgrin (Rabelais i. chaps. ii.) is popularly applied to the Albigeois (Albigenses, whose persecution began shortly after A.D. 1200) and the Lutherans. I cannot but think that “bougre” took its especial modern signification after the French became acquainted with the Brazil, where the Huguenots (in A.D. 1555) were founding a Nouvelle France, alias Equinoctiale, alias Antarctique, and whence the savages were carried as curiosities to Paris. Their generic name was “Bugre” (properly a tribe in Southern Brazil, but applied to all the redskins) and they were all born Sodomites. More of this in the terminal Essay.
6 His paper is the whiteness of his skin. I have quoted the Persian saying of a young beard: “his cheeks don mourning for his beauty’s death.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the preacher woman ended her verse she resumed, addressing the man, ” ‘Laud to Allah Almighty! how can it be hid from thee that the perfect pleasure is in women and that abiding blessings are not to be found but with them, seeing that Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath promised His prophets and saints black eyed damsels in Paradise and hath appointed these for a recompense of their godly works. And had the Almighty known that the joy supreme was in the possession of other than women, He had rewarded them therewith and promised it to them. And quoth he (whom Allah bless and preserve!), ‘The things I hold dearest of the things of your world are three: women and perfume and the solace of my eyes in prayer.’ Verily Allah hath appointed boys to serve his prophets and saints in Paradise, because Paradise is the abode of joy and delight, which could not be complete without the service of youths; but, as to the use of them for aught but service, it is Hell’s putridity1 and corruption and turpitude. How well saith the poet,
‘Men’s turning unto bums of boys is bumptious;
Whoso love noble women show their own noblesse.
How many goodly wights have slept the night, enjoying
Buttocks of boys, and woke at morn in foulest mess
Their garments stained by safflower, which is yellow merde;
Their shame proclaiming, showing colour of distress.
Who can deny the charge, when so bewrayed are they
That e’en by day light shows the dung upon their dress?
What contrast wi’ the man, who slept a gladsome night
By Houri maid for glance a mere enchanteress,
He rises off her borrowing wholesome bonny scent;
That fills the house with whiffs of perfumed goodliness.
No boy deserved place by side of her to hold;
Canst even aloes wood with what fills pool of cess!’2
Then said she, ‘O folk ye have made me to break the bounds of modesty and the circle of free born women and indulge in idle talk of chambering and wantonness, which beseemeth not people of learning. But the breasts of free-borns are the sepulchres of secrets’ and such conversations are in confidence. Moreover, actions are according to intentions,3 and I crave pardon of Allah for myself and you and all Moslems, seeing that He is the Pardoner and the Compassionate.’ Then she held her peace and thereafter would answer us of naught; so we went our way, rejoicing in that we had profited by her contention and yet sorrowing to part from her.” And among the tales they tell is one of
1 Arab. “Khabál,” lit. the pus which flows from the bodies of the damned.
2 Most characteristic of Egypt is all this scene. Her reverence, it is true, sits behind a curtain; but her virtue uses language which would shame the lowest European prostitute; and which is filthy almost as Dean Swift’s.
3 Arab. “Niyat:” the Moslem’s idea of intentions quite runs with the Christian’s. There must be a “Niyat” or purpose of prayer or the devotion is valueless. Lane tells a pleasant tale of a thief in the Mosque, saying “I purpose (before Prayer) to carry off this nice pair of new shoes!”
Quoth Abu Suwayd, “I and a company of my friends, entered a garden one day to buy somewhat of fruit; and we saw in a corner an old woman, who was bright of face, but her head-hair was white, and she was combing it with an ivory comb. We stopped before her, yet she paid no heed to us neither veiled her face: so I said to her, ‘O old woman,1 wert thou to dye thy hair black, thou wouldst be handsomer than a girl: what hindereth thee from this?’ She raised her head towards me”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ya ‘l-Ajúz” (in Cairo “Agooz” pronounced “Ago-o-oz”): the address is now insulting and would elicit “The old woman in thine eye” (with fingers extended). In Egypt the polite address is “O lady (Sitt), O pilgrimess, O bride, and O daughter” (although she be the wrong side of fifty). In Arabia you may say “O woman (Imraah)” but in Egypt the reply would be “The woman shall see Allah cut out thy heart!” So in Southern Italy you address “bella fé” (fair one) and cause a quarrel by “vecchiarella.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu Suwayd continued: “When I spake these words to the ancient dame she raised her head towards me and, opening wide her eyes, recited these two couplets,
‘I dyed what years have dyed, but this my staining
Lasts not, while that of days is aye remaining:
Days when beclad in gear of youth I fared,
Raked fore and aft by men with joy unfeigning.’
I cried, ‘By Allah, favoured art thou for an old woman! How sincere art thou in thine after-pine for forbidden pleasures and how false is thy pretence of repentance from frowardness!’” And another tale is that of
Once on a time was displayed for sale to Ali bin Mohammed bin Abdallah bin Táhir1 a slave-girl called Muunis who was superior to her fellows in beauty and breeding, and to boot an accomplished poetess; and he asked her of her name. Replied she, “Allah advance the Emir, my name is Muunis.”2 Now he knew this before; so he bowed his head awhile, then raising his eyes to her, recited this verse,
“What sayest of one by a sickness caught
For the love of thy love till he waxed distraught?”
Answered she, “Allah exalt the Emir!” and recited this verse in reply,
“If we saw a lover who pains as he ought,
Wi’ love we would grant him all favours he sought.”
She pleased him: so he bought her for seventy thousand dirhams and begat on her Obayd’ Allah bin Mohammed, afterwards minister of Police.3 And we are told by Abu al-Ayná 4 a tale of
Quoth Abu al-Ayná, “There were in our street two women, one of whom had for lover a man and the other a beardless youth, and they foregathered one night on the terrace-roof of a house adjoining mine, knowing not that I was near. Quoth the boy’s lover to the other, ‘O my sister, how canst thou bear with patience the harshness of thy lover’s beard as it falleth on thy breast, when he busseth thee and his mustachios rub thy cheek and lips?’ Replied the other, ‘Silly that thou art, what decketh the tree save its leaves and the cucumber but its warts?1 Didst ever see in the world aught uglier than a scald-head bald of his beard? Knowest thou not that the beard is to men as the sidelocks to women; and what is the difference between chin and cheek?2 Knowest thou not that Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath created an angel in Heaven, who saith: ‘Glory be to Him who ornamenteth men with beards and women with long hair?’ So, were not the beard even as the tresses in comeliness, it had not been coupled with them, O silly! How shall I spread-eagle myself under a boy, who will emit long before I can go off and forestall me in limpness of penis and clitoris; and leave a man who, when he taketh breath clippeth close and when he entereth goeth leisurely, and when he hath done, repeateth, and when he pusheth poketh hard, and as often as he withdraweth, returneth?’ The boy’s leman was edified by her speech and said, ‘I forswear my lover by the lord of the Ka’abah!’” And amongst tales is one of
There lived once, in the city of Cairo, a merchant who had great store of monies and bullion, gems and jewels, and lands and houses beyond count, and his name was Hasan the Jeweller, the Baghdad man. Furthermore Allah had blessed him with a son of perfect beauty and brilliancy; rosy-cheeked, fair of face and well-figured, whom he named Ali of Cairo, and had taught the Koran and science and elocution and the other branches of polite education, till he became proficient in all manner of knowledge. He was under his father’s hand in trade but, after a while, Hasan fell sick and his sickness grew upon him, till he made sure of death; so he called his son to him — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Jeweller, the Baghdadi, fell sick and made sure of death, he called to him his son, named Ali of Cairo, and said, “O my son, verily this world passeth away; but the next world endureth for aye. Every soul shall taste of death;1 and now, O my son, my decease is at hand and I desire to charge thee with a charge, which if thou observe, thou shalt abide in safety and prosperity, till thou meet Almighty Allah; but if thou follow it not, there shall befal thee much weariness and thou wilt repent of having transgressed mine injunctions.” Replied Ali, “O my father, how shall I do other than hearken to thy words and act according to thy charge, seeing that I am bounden by the law of the Faith to obey thee and give ear to thy command?” Rejoined his father, “O my son, I leave thee lands and houses and goods and wealth past count; so that wert thou each day to spend thereof five hundred dinars, thou wouldst miss naught of it. But, O my son, look that thou live in the fear of Allah and follow His Chosen One, Mustafa, (whom may He bless and preserve!) in whatso he is reported to have bidden and forbidden in his traditional law.2 Be thou constant in alms-deeds and the practice of beneficence and in consorting with men of worth and piety and learning; and look that thou have a care for the poor and needy and shun avarice and meanness and the conversation of the wicked or those of suspicious character. Look thou kindly upon thy servants and family, and also upon thy wife, for she is of the daughters of the great and is big with child by thee; haply Allah will vouchsafe thee virtuous issue by her.” And he ceased not to exhort him thus, weeping and saying, “O my son, I beseech Allah the Bountiful, the Lord of the glorious Empyrean3 to deliver thee from all straits that may encompass thee and grant thee His ready relief!” Thereupon his son wept with sore weeping and said, “O my father, I am melted by thy words, for these are as the words of one that saith farewell.” Replied the merchant, “Yes, O my son, I am aware of my condition: forget thou not my charge.” Then he fell to repeating the two professions of the Faith and to reciting verses of the Koran, until the appointed hour arrived, when he said, “Draw near unto me, O my son.” So Ali drew near and he kissed him; then he sighed and his soul departed his body and he went to the mercy of Almighty Allah.4 Therewith great grief fell upon Ali; the clamour of keening arose in his house and his father’s friends flocked to him. Then he betook himself to preparing the body for burial and made him a splendid funeral. They bore his bier to the place of prayer and prayed over him, then to the cemetery, where they buried him and recited over him what suited of the sublime Koran; after which they returned to the house and condoled with the dead man’s son and wended each his own way. Moreover, Ali prayed the Friday prayer for his father and had perlections of the Koran every day for the normal forty, during which time he abode in the house and went not forth, save to the place of prayer; and every Friday he visited his father’s tomb. So he ceased not from his praying and reciting for some time, until his fellows of the sons of the merchants came in to him one day and saluting him, said, “How long this thy mourning and neglecting thy business and the company of thy friends? Verily, this is a fashion which will bring thee weariness, and thy body will suffer for it exceedingly.” Now when they came in to him, Iblis the Accursed was with them, prompting them; and they went on to recommend him to accompany them to the bazar, whilst Iblis tempted him to consent to them, till he yielded — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “And We will prove you with evil, and with good, for a trial of you; and unto Us shall ye return.” (Koran xxi. 36.) The saying is always in the Moslem’s mouth.
2 Arab. “Sunnat,” lit.=a law, especially applied to the habit and practice of the Apostle in religious and semi-religious matters, completing the “Hadis,” or his spoken words. Anything unknown is entitled “Bida’ah”=innovation. Hence the strict Moslem is a model Conservative whose exemplar of life dates from the seventh century. This fact may be casuistically explained away; but is not less an obstacle to all progress and it will be one of the principal dangers threatening Al–Islam. Only fair to say that an “innovation” introduced by a perfect follower of the Prophet is held equal theoretically to a Sunnat; but vulgarly it is said, “The rabble will not take gold which is not coined.”
3 Arab. “Arsh”=the ninth Heaven, the Throne of the Deity, above the Seven Heavens of the planets and the Primum Mobile which, in the Ptolemaic system, sets them all in motion.
4 This description of a good Moslem’s death is at once concise, pathetic and picturesque.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the sons of the merchants went in to Ali the Cairene, son of Hasan the Jeweller, they recommended him to accompany them to the bazar, till he yielded, that the will of Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) might be fulfilled; and he left the house of mourning with them. Presently they said, “Mount thy she-mule and ride with us to such a garden, that we may solace us there and that thy grief and despondency may depart from thee.” So he mounted and taking his slave, went with them to the garden in question; and when they entered one of them went and making ready the morning-meal, brought it to them there. So they ate and were merry and sat in talk, till the end of the day, when they mounted and returned each to his own lodging, where they passed the night. As soon as the morrow dawned, they again visited Ali and said, “Come with us.” Asked he, “Whither?”; and they answered, “To such a garden; for it is finer than the first and more pleasurable.” So he went with them to the garden, and one of them, going away, made ready the morning-meal and brought it to them, together with strong heady wine; and after eating, they brought out the wine, when quoth Ali, “What is this? and quoth they, “This is what dispelleth sadness and brighteneth gladness. And they ceased not to commend it to him, till they prevailed upon him and he drank with them. Then they sat, drinking and talking, till the end of the day, when each returned home. But as for Ali, the Cairene, he was giddy with wine and in this plight went in to his wife, who said to him, “What aileth thee that thou art so changed?” He said, “We were making merry to-day, when one of my companions brought us liquor; so my friends drank and I with them, and this giddiness came upon me.” And she replied, “O my lord, say me, hast thou forgotten thy father’s injunction and done that from which he forbade thee, in consorting with doubtful folk?” Answered he, “These be of the sons of the merchants; they are no suspicious folk, only lovers of mirth and good cheer.” And he continued to lead this life with his friends, day after day, going from place to place and feasting with them and drinking, till they said to him, “Our turns are ended, and now it is thy turn.” “Well come, and welcome and fair cheer!” cried he; so on the morrow, he made ready all that the case called for of meat and drink, two-fold what they had provided, and taking cooks and tent-pitchers and coffee-makers,1 repaired with the others to Al–Rauzah2 and the Nilometer, where they abode a whole month, eating and drinking and hearing music and making merry. At the end of the month, Ali found that he had spent a great sum of money; but Iblis the Accursed deluded him and said to him, “Though thou shouldst spend every day a like sum yet wouldst thou not miss aught of it.” So he took no account of money expenses and continued this way of life for three years, whilst his wife remonstrated with him and reminded him of his father’s charge; but he hearkened not to her words, till he had spent all the ready monies he had, when he fell to selling his jewels and spending their price, until they also were all gone. Then he sold his houses, fields, farms and gardens, one after other, till they likewise were all gone and he had nothing left but the tenement wherein he lived. So he tore out the marble and wood-work and sold it and spent of its price, till he had made an end of all this also, when he took thought with himself and, finding that he had nothing left to expend, sold the house itself and spent the purchase-money. After that, the man who had bought the house came to him and said “Seek out for thyself a lodging, as I have need of my house.” So he bethought himself and, finding that he had no want of a house, except for his wife, who had borne him a son and daughter (he had not a servant left), he hired a large room in one of the mean courts3 and there took up his abode, after having lived in honour and luxury, with many eunuchs and much wealth; and he soon came to want one day’s bread. Quoth his wife, “Of this I warned thee and exhorted thee to obey thy father’s charge, and thou wouldst not hearken to me; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Whence shall the little ones eat? Arise then, go round to thy friends, the sons of the merchants: belike they will give thee somewhat on which we may live this day.” So he arose and went to his friends one by one; but they all hid their faces from him and gave him injurious words revolting to hear, but naught else; and he returned to his wife and said to her, “They have given me nothing.” Thereupon she went forth to beg of her neighbours the wherewithal to keep themselves alive — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is the first mention of coffee; apparently introduced by the scribe: the word rendered “coffee-makers” is “Kahwajiyah”; an Arab. plur. of a Turkish termination (-ji) to an Arab. word “Kahwah” (before noticed).
2 Picnics are still made to Rauzah (Rodah) island: I have enjoyed many a one, but the ground is all private property.
3 Arab. “Hosh,” plur. Híshán, the low courts surrounded by mean lodgings which in “native” Cairo still contrast so strongly with the “gingerbread” of the new buildings.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the wife of Ali the Cairene, seeing her husband return empty-handed, went forth to beg of her neighbours the wherewithal to keep themselves alive and repaired to a woman, whom she had known in former days. When she came in to her and she saw her case, she rose and receiving her kindly, wept and said, “What hath befallen you?” So she told her all that her husband had done, and the other replied, “Well come and welcome and fair cheer!; whatever thou needest, Seek it of me, without price.” Quoth she, “Allah requite thee abundantly!”1 Then her friend gave her as much provision as would suffice herself and her family a whole month, and she took it and returned to her lodging. When her husband saw her, he wept and asked, “Whence hadst thou that?”; and she answered, “I got it of such a woman; for, when I told her what had befallen us, she failed me not in aught, but said, ‘Seek of me all thou needest.’” Whereupon her husband rejoined, “Since thou hast this much I will betake myself to a place I have in my mind; peradventure Allah Almighty will bring us relief.”2 With these words he took leave of her and kissed his children and went out, not knowing whither he should go, and he continued walking on till he came to Bulák, where he saw a ship about to sail for Damietta.3 Here he met a man, between whom and his father there had been friendship, and he saluted him and said to him, “Whither now?” Replied Ali, “To Damietta: I have friends there, whom I would enquire after and visit them and then return.” The man took him home and treated him honourably; then, furnishing him with vivers for the voyage and giving him some gold pieces, embarked him on board the vessel bound for Damietta. When they reached it, Ali landed, not knowing whither to go; but as he was walking along, a merchant saw him and had pity on him, and carried him to his house. Here he abode awhile, after which he said in himself, “How long this sojourning in other folk’s homes?” Then he left the merchant’s place and walked to the wharf where, after enquiry, he found a ship ready to sail for Syria. His hospitable host provided him with provision and embarked him in the ship; and it set sail and Ali reached in due season the Syrian shores where he disembarked and journeyed till he entered Damascus. As he walked about the great thoroughfare behold, a kindly man saw him and took him to his house, where he tarried for a time till, one day, going abroad, he saw a caravan about to start for Baghdad and bethought himself to journey thither with it. Thereupon he returned to his host and taking leave of him, set out with the Cafilah. Now Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) inclined to him the heart of one of the merchants, so that he took him with him, and Ali ate and drank with him, till they came within one day’s journey of Baghdad. Here, however, a company of highwaymen fell upon the caravan and took all they had and but few of the merchants escaped. These made each for a separate place of refuge; but as for Ali the Cairene he fared for Baghdad, where he arrived at sundown, as the gatekeepers were about to shut the gates, and said to them, “Let me in with you.” They admitted him and asked him, “Whence come, and whither wending?” and he answered, “I am a man from Cairo-city and have with me mules laden with merchandise and slaves and servants. I forewent them, to look me out a place wherein to deposit my goods: but, as I rode along on my she-mule, there fell upon me a company of banditti, who took my mule and gear; nor did I escape from them but at my last gasp.” The gate-guard entreated him honourably and bade him be of good cheer, saying, “Abide with us this night, and in the morning we will look thee out a place befitting thee.” Then he sought in his breast-pocket and, finding a dinar of those given to him by the merchant at Bulak, handed it to one of the gatekeepers, saying, “Take this and change it and bring us something to eat.” The man took it and went to the market, where he changed it, and brought Ali bread and cooked meat: so he ate, he and the gate-guards, and he lay the night with them. Now on the morrow, one of the warders carried him to a certain of the merchants of Baghdad, to whom he told the same story, and he believed him, deeming that he was a merchant and had with him loads of merchandise. Then he took him up into his shop and entreated him with honour; moreover, he sent to his house for a splendid suit of his own apparel for him and carried him to the Hammam. “So,” quoth Ali of Cairo: “I went with him to the bath, and when we came out, he took me and brought me to his house, where he set the morning-meal before us, and we ate and made merry. Then said he to one of his black slaves, ‘Ho Mas’dd, take this thy lord: show him the two houses standing in such a place, and whichever pleaseth him, give him the key of it and come back.’ So I went with the slave, till we came to a street-road where stood three houses side by side, newly built and yet shut up. He opened the first and I looked at it; and we did the same to the second; after which he said to me ‘Of which shall I give thee the key?’ ‘To whom doth the big house belong?’ ‘To us!’ ‘Open it, that I may view it.’ ‘Thou hast no business there.’ ‘Wherefore?’ ‘Because it is haunted, and none nighteth there but in the morning he is a dead man; nor do we use to open the door, when removing the corpse, but mount the terrace-roof of one of the other two houses and take it up thence. For this reason my master hath abandoned the house and saith: ‘I will never again give it to any one.’ ‘Open it,’ I cried, ‘that I may view it;’ and I said in my mind, ‘This is what I seek; I will pass the night there and in the morning be a dead man and be at peace from this my case.’ So he opened it and I entered and found it a splendid house, without its like; and I said to the slave, ‘I will have none other than this house; give me its key.’ But he rejoined, ‘I will not give thee this key till I consult my master,’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This is the Moslem equivalent of “thank you.” He looks upon the donor as the channel through which Allah sends him what he wants and prays for more to come. Thus “May your shadow never be less” means, May you increase in prosperity so that I may gain thereby! And if a beggar is disposed to be insolent (a very common case), he will tell you his mind pretty freely on the subject, and make it evident to you that all you have is also his and that La propriété (when not shared) est le vol.
2 I have noticed in my Pilgrimage (i. 51–53) the kindly care with which the stranger is treated by Moslems, a marvellous contrast to the ways of “civilization.”
3 Arab. “Dimyat,” vulg. pronounced “Dumíyat.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the negro (continued Ali of Cairo) “rejoined, ‘I will not give thee its key till I consult my master,’” and going to him, reported, “‘The Egyptian trader saith, ‘I will lodge in none but the big house.’” Now when the merchant heard this, he rose and coming to Ali, spake thus to him, “O my lord, thou hast no need of this house.” But he answered, “I will lodge in none other than this; for I care naught for this silly saying.” Quoth the other, “Write me an acknowledgment that, if aught happen to thee, I am not responsible.” Quoth Ali, “So be it;” whereupon the merchant fetched an assessor from the Kazi’s court and, taking the prescribed acknowledgment, delivered to him the key wherewith he entered the house. The merchant sent him bedding by a blackamoor who spread it for him on the built bench behind the door1 and walked away. Presently Ali went about and, seeing in the inner court a well with a bucket, let this down and drew water, wherewith he made the lesser ablution and prayed the obligatory prayers. Then he sat awhile, till the slave brought him the evening meal from his master’s house, together with a lamp, a candle and candlestick, a basin and ewer and a gugglet2; after which he left him and returned home. Ali lighted the candle, supped at his ease and prayed the night-prayer; and presently he said to himself, “Come, take the bedding and go upstairs and sleep there; ’twill be better than here.” So he took the bed and carried it upstairs, where he found a splendid saloon, with gilded ceiling and floor and walls cased with coloured marbles. He spread his bed there and sitting down, began to recite somewhat of the Sublime Koran, when (ere he was ware) he heard one calling to him and asking, “O Ali, O son of Hasan, say me, shall I send thee down the gold?” And he answered, “Where be the gold thou hast to send?” But hardly had he spoken, when gold pieces began to rain down on him, like stones from a catapult, nor ceased till the saloon was full. Then, after the golden shower, said the Voice, “Set me free, that I may go my way; for I have made an end of my service and have delivered unto thee that which was entrusted to me for thee.” Quoth Ali, “I adjure thee, by Allah the Almighty, to tell me the cause of this gold-rain.” Replied the Voice, “This is a treasure that was talisman’d to thee of old time, and to every one who entered the house, we used to come and say: ‘O Ali, O son of Hasan, shall we send thee down the gold?’ Whereat he would be affrighted and cry out, and we would come down to him and break his neck and go away. But, when thou camest and we accosted thee by thy name and that of thy father, saying, ‘Shall we send thee down the gold?’ and thou madest answer to us, ‘And where be the gold?’ we knew thee for the owner of it and sent it down. Moreover, there is yet another hoard for thee in the land of Al–Yaman and thou wouldst do well to journey thither and fetch it. And now I would fain have thee set me free, that I may go my way.” Said Ali, “By Allah, I will not set thee free, till thou bring me hither the treasure from the land of Al–Yaman!” Said the Voice, “An I bring it to thee, wilt thou release me and eke the servant of the other hoard?” “Yes,” replied Ali, and the Voice cried, “Swear to me.” So he swore to him, and he was about to go away, when Ali said to him, “I have one other need to ask of thee;” and he, “What is that?” Quoth Ali, “I have a wife and children at Cairo in such a place; thou needs must fetch them to me, at their ease and without their unease.” Quoth he, “I will bring them to thee in a mule-litter3 and much state, with a train of eunuchs and servants, together with the treasure from Al–Yaman, Inshallah!”4 Then he took of him leave of absence for three days, when all this should be with him, and vanished. As soon as it was morning Ali went round about the saloon, seeking a place wherein to store the gold, and saw on the edge of the dais a marble slab with a turning-pin; so he turned the pin and the slab sank and showed a door which he opened and entering, found a great closet, full of bags of coarse stuff carefully sewn. So he began taking out the bags and fell to filling them with gold and storing them in the closet, till he had transported thither all the hoarded gold, whereupon he shut the door and turning the pin, the slab returned to its place. Then he went down and seated himself on the bench behind the door; and presently there came a knock; so he opened and found the merchant’s slave who, seeing him comfortably sitting, returned in haste to his master — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the house-owner’s black slave returned and knocked at the door, Ali the Cairene, son of the merchant Hasan, opened it to him and the negro, seeing him comfortably sitting, returned in haste to his master with the good tidings, saying, “O my Lord, the merchant, who is lodged in the house inhabited by the Jinn,1 is alive and well and sitteth on the bench behind the door.” Then the merchant rose joyfully and went to the house, taking breakfast with him; and, when he saw Ali, he embraced him and kissed him between the eyes, asking, “How hath Allah dealt with thee?”; and Ali answered, “Right well, I slept upstairs in the marble saloon.” Quoth the merchant, “Did aught come to thee or didst thou see any thing?” and quoth Ali “No, I recited some little of the Sublime Koran and slept till morning, when I arose and, after making the minor ablution and praying, seated myself on the bench behind the door.” “Praised be Allah for safety!” exclaimed the merchant, then left him and presently sent him black slaves and white Mamelukes and handmaidens with household gear. They swept the house from top to bottom and furnished it with magnificent furniture; after which three white slaves and three blacks and four slave-girls remained with him, to serve him, while the rest returned to their master’s house. Now when the merchants heard of him, they sent him presents of all manner things of price, even to food and drink and clothes, and took him with them to the market, asking, “When will thy baggage arrive?” And he answered, “After three days it will surely come.” When the term had elapsed, the servant of the first hoard, the golden rain, came to him and said, “Go forth and meet the treasure I have brought thee from Al–Yaman together with thy Harim; for I bring part of the wealth in the semblance of costly merchandise; but the eunuchs and Mamelukes and the mules and horses and camels are all of the Jann.” Now the Jinni, when he betook himself to Cairo, found Ali’s wife and children in sore misery, naked and hungry; so he carried them out of the city in a travelling-litter and clad them in sumptuous raiment of the stuffs which were in the treasure of Al–Yaman. So when Ali heard this, he arose and repairing to the merchants, said to them, “Rise and go forth with us from the city, to meet the caravan bringing my merchandise, and honour us with the presence of your Harims, to meet my Harim.” “Hearkening and obedience,” answered they and, sending for their Harims, went forth all together and took seat in one of the city-gardens; and as they sat talking, behold, a dust-cloud arose out of the heart of the desert, and they flocked forth to see what it was. Presently it lifted and discovered mules and muleteers, tent-pitchers and linkmen, who came on, singing and dancing, till they reached the garden, when the chief of the muleteers walked up to Ali and kissing his hand, said to him, “O my master, we have been long on the way, for we purposed entering yesterday; but we were in fear of the bandits, so abode in our station four days, till Almighty Allah rid us of them.” Thereupon the merchants mounted their mules and rode forward with the caravan, the Harims waiting behind, till Ali’s wife and children mounted with them; and they all entered in splendid train. The merchants marvelled at the number of mules laden with chests, whilst the women of the merchants wondered at the richness of the apparel of his wife and the fine raiment of her children; and kept saying each to other, “Verily, the King of Baghdad hath no such gear; no, nor any other of the kings or lords or merchants!” So they ceased not to fare forwards in high great state, the men with Ali of Cairo and the Harims with his Harim, till they came to the mansion — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The “haunted” house proper, known to the vulgar and to spiritualists becomes, I have said, amongst Moslems a place tenanted by Jinns.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that they ceased not to fare forwards in high state, the men with Ali’s men and the women with his wife, till they came to the mansion, where they alighted and brought the mules and their burdens into the midst of the courtyard. Then they unloaded them and warehoused the goods whilst the merchants’ wives went up with Ali’s family to the saloon, which they found as it were a luxuriant garden, spread with magnificent furniture. They sat in mirth and good cheer till noon, when they brought them up the midday meal, all manner meats and sweetmeats of the very best; and they ate and drank costly sherbets and perfumed themselves thereafter with rose-water and scented woods. Then they took leave and went home, men and women; and, when the merchants returned to their places, they sent presents to the husband according to their conditions; and their wives likewise sent presents to the wife, so that there came to them great store of handmaids and negroes and Mamelukes; and all kinds of goods, such as grain, sugar and so forth, in abundance beyond account. As for the Baghdad merchant, the landlord of the house, he abode with Ali and quitted him not, but said to him, “Let the black slaves and servants take the mules and the common cattle into one of my other houses, to rest.” Quoth Ali, “They set out again to-night for such a place.” Then he gave them leave to go forth and camp outside the city, that they might start on their journey at night-come; whereupon, hardly believing that they were dismissed, they took leave of him and departing to the outliers of the city, flew off through the air to their several abodes. So Ali and his house-owner sat together till a third of the night was past, when their colloquy ended and the merchant returned to his own house and Ali went up to his wife and children and after saluting them, said, “What hath befallen you in my absence all this time?” So she told him what they had suffered of hunger and nakedness and travail, and he said, “Praised be Allah for safety! How did ye come?” Answered she, “O my lord, I was asleep with my children yesternight, when suddenly and unexpectedly one raised us from the ground and flew with us through the firmament without doing us any hurt, nor did he leave flying with us, till he set us down in a place as it were an Arab camping-ground, where we saw laden mules and a travelling litter borne upon two great mules, and around it servants, all boys and men. So I asked them, ‘Who are ye and what are these loads and where are we?;’ and they answered, ‘We are the servants of the merchant Ali of Cairo, son of the merchant-jeweller, who hath sent us to fetch you to him at Baghdad.’ Quoth I, ‘Tell me, is it far or near, hence to Baghdad?’ They replied, ‘Near: there lieth between us and the city but the darkness of the night.’ Then they mounted us in the litter and, when the morrow dawned, we found ourselves with thee, without having suffered any hurt whatever.” Quoth he, “Who gave you these dresses?;” and quoth she, “The chief of the caravan opened one of the boxes on the mules and taking out thereof these clothes, clad me and thy children each in a suit; after which he locked the case and gave me the key, saying, ‘Take care of it, till thou give it to thy husband.’ And here it is safe by me.” So saying, she gave him the key, and he said, “Dost thou know the chest?” Said she, “Yes, I know it.” So he took her down to the magazine and showed her the boxes, when she cried, “This is the one whence the dresses were taken;” upon which he put the key in the lock and opened the chest, wherein he found much raiment and the keys of all the other cases. So he took them and fell to opening them, one after another, and feasting his eyes upon the gems and precious ores they contained, whose like was not found with any of the kings; after which he locked them again, took the keys, and returned to the saloon, saying to his wife, “This is of the bounty of Almighty Allah!” Then bringing her to the secret slab he turned the pin and opened the door of the closet, into which he entered with her and showed her the gold he had laid up therein. Quoth she, “Whence came all this to thee?” “It came to me by the grace of my Lord,” answered he:— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ali’s wife had looked upon the gold she said to him, “Whence came all this to thee?” “It came to me by the grace of my Lord,” answered he: “When I left thee in my trouble, I shipped at Bulak for Damietta and met a friend there who forwarded me to Damascus”: in brief he told her all that had befallen him, from first to last. Said she, “O my lord, all this cometh by boon of thy father’s blessing and orisons when he prayed for thee, before his death, saying, ‘I beseech Allah to cast thee into no straits except He grant thee ready relief!’ So praised be Allah Almighty for that He hath brought thee deliverance and hath requited thee with more than went from thee! But Allah upon thee, O my lord, return not to thy practice of associating with doubtful folk; but look thou fear Allah (whose name be exalted!) both in private and in public.” And as she went on to admonish him, he said, “I accept thine admonition and beg the Almighty to remove the froward from amongst us and stablish us in His obedience and in the observance of the law and practice of His Prophet, on whom be blessings and peace!” After that Ali and his wife and children were in all solace of life and gladness; and he opened him a shop in the merchants’ bazar and, stocking it with a somewhat of jewels and bullion, sat therein with his children and white servants. Presently he became the most considerable of the merchants of Baghdad, and his report reached the King of that city,1 who sent a messenger to command his attendance, saying, “Answer the summons of the King who requireth thee.” He replied, “I hear and obey,” and straightway prepared his present and he took four trays of red gold and, filling them with jewels and precious metals, such as no King possessed, went up to the palace and presenting himself before the presence, kissed the ground between his hands and wished him endurance of goods and glory in the finest language he could command. Said the King, “O merchant, thou cheerest our city with thy presence!” and Ali rejoined, “O King of the age, thy slave hath brought thee a gift and hopeth for acceptance thereof from thy favour.” Then he laid the four trays before the King, who uncovered them and seeing that they contained gems, whose fellows he possessed not and whose worth equalled treasuries of money, said, “Thy present is accepted, O merchant, and Inshallah! we will requite thee with its like.” And Ali kissed his hands and went away; whereupon the King called his grandees and said to them, “How many of the Kings have sought my daughter in marriage?” “Many,” answered they; and he asked, “Hath any of them given me the like of this gift?”; whereto they replied, “Not one, for that none of them hath its like;” and he said, “I have consulted Allah Almighty by lot as to marrying my daughter to this merchant. What say ye?” “Be it as thou reckest,” answered they. Then he bade the eunuch carry the four trays into his serraglio and going in to his wife, laid them before her. She uncovered them and seeing therein that whose like she possessed not; no, nor a fraction thereof, said to him, “From which of the Kings hadst thou these?: perchance of one of the royalties that seek thy daughter in marriage?” Said he, “Not so, I had them of an Egyptian merchant, who is lately come to this our city. Now when I heard of his coming I sent to command him to us, thinking to make his acquaintance, so haply we might find with him somewhat of jewels and buy them of him for our daughter’s trousseau. He obeyed our summons and brought us these four trays, as a present, and I saw him to be a handsome youth of dignified aspect and intelligent as elegant, almost such as should be the sons of Kings. Wherefore my heart inclined to him at sight, and my heart rejoiced in him and I thought good to marry my daughter to him. So I showed the gift to my grandees, who agreed with me that none of the Kings hath the like of these and I told them my project. But what sayst thou?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Needless to say there never was a Sultan or a King of Baghdad nor a Duke of Athens. This story would seem not to have been written by the author of “the Emir bin Tahir,” etc. Night ccccxxiv.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King of Baghdad, after showing the presents to his wife and highly praising Ali, the merchant-jeweller, and informing her of the proposed marriage, asked, “But what sayst thou?” She replied, “O King of the age, the ordering this affair is in Allah’s hand, and thine, and whatso Allah willeth shall come to pass.” Rejoined the King, “If it be His will, I will marry her to none other than this young man.” He slept on this resolve and on the morrow, he went out to his Divan and summoned Ali and the rest of the merchants of Baghdad, and when all came bade them be seated. Then said he, “Bring me the Kazi of the Divan” and they brought him; whereupon the King said to him, “O Kazi, write the contract of marriage between my daughter and the merchant Ali the Cairene.” But Ali said, “Thy pardon, O our lord the Sultan! It befitteth not that a trader such as I, be the King’s son-in-law.” Quoth the King, “It is my will to bestow this favour upon thee, as well as the Wazirate;” and he invested him forthwith in the Wazir’s office and ministerial robes. Then Ali sat down in the chair of the Wazirate and said, “O King of the age, thou hast bestowed on me this; and indeed I am honoured by thy bounties; but hear one word I have to say to thee!” He replied, “Say on, and fear not.” Quoth Ali, “Since it is thine august resolution to marry thy daughter, thou wouldst do better to marry her to my son. Quoth the King, “Hast thou then a son?”; and Ali replied, “Yes.” “Send for him forthwith,” said the King. Thereupon answered Ali “Hearkening and obedience!”, and despatched a servant to fetch his son, who came and kissing the ground before the King, stood in an attitude of respect. The King looked at him and seeing him to be yet comelier than his daughter and goodlier than she in stature and proportion and brightness and perfection, said to him, “What is thy name, O my son?” “My name is Hasan, O our lord the Sultan,” replied the young man, who was then fourteen years old. Then the Sultan said to the Kazi, “Write the contract of marriage between my daughter Husn al-Wujdd and Hasan, son of the merchant Ali the Cairene.” So he wrote the marriage-contract between them, and the affair was ended in the goodliest fashion; after which all in the Divan went their ways and the merchants followed the Wazir Ali, escorting him to his house, where they gave him joy of his advancement and departed. Then he went in to his wife, who seeing him clad in the Wazir’s habit, exclaimed, “What is this?”; when he told her all that had passed from first to last and she joyed therein with exceeding joy. So sped the night and on the morrow, he went up to the Divan, where the King received him with especial favour and seating him close by his side, said, “O Wazir, we purpose to begin the wedding festivities and bring thy son in to our daughter.” Replied Ali, “O our lord the Sultan, whatso thou deemest good is good.” So the Sultan gave orders to celebrate the festivities, and they decorated the city and held high festival for thirty days, in all joy and gladness; at the end of which time, Hasan, son of the Wazir Ali, went in to the Princess and enjoyed her beauty and loveliness. When the Queen saw her daughter’s husband, she conceived a warm affection for him, and in like manner she rejoiced greatly in his mother. Then the King bade build for his son-in-law Hasan Ali-son a palace beside his own; so they built him with all speed a splendid palace in which he took up his abode; and his mother used to tarry with him some days and then go down to her own house. After awhile the Queen said to her husband, “O King of the age, Hasan’s lady-mother cannot take up her abode with her son and leave the Wazir; neither can she tarry with the Wazir and leave her son.” “Thou sayest sooth,” replied the King, and bade edify a third palace beside that of Hasan, which being done in a few days he caused remove thither the goods of the Wazir, and the Minister and his wife took up their abode there. Now the three palaces communicated with one another, so that when the King had a mind to speak with the Wazir by night, he would go to him or send to fetch him; and so with Hasan and his father and mother. On this wise they dwelt in all solace and in the greatest happiness — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King and the Wazir and his son ceased not to dwell in all solace and in the greatest happiness awhile, till the King fell ill and his sickness grew on him. So he summoned the lords of his realm and said to them, “There is come upon me a sore malady, peradventure a mortal; and I have therefore summoned you to consult you respecting a certain matter, on which I would have you counsel me as you deem well.” They asked, “What is the matter of which thou wouldst take counsel with us, O King?”; and he answered, “I am old and sickly and I fear for the realm after me from its enemies; so I would have you all agree upon some one, that I may proclaim him King in my lifetime and so ye may be at ease.” Whereupon quoth they with one voice, “We all approve of thy daughter’s husband Hasan, son of the Wazir Ali; for we have seen his wit and perfect understanding, and he knoweth the place of all, great and small.” Asked the King, “Are ye indeed agreed upon this?” and they answered, “Yes.” Rejoined he “Peradventure ye all say this to my face, of respect for me; but behind my back ye will say otherwise.” However, they all replied, “By Allah, our word is one and the same in public and in private, and we accept him frankly and with heartiness of heart and breadth of breast.” Quoth he, “Since the case is thus, bring the Kazi of the Holy Law and all the Chamberlains and Viceroys and Officers of state before me to-morrow, and we will order the affair after the goodliest fashion.” “We hear and we obey,” answered they and withdrawing, notified all the Olema,1 the doctors of the law and the chief personages among the Emirs. So when the morrow dawned, they came up to the Divan and, having craved and obtained permission to enter, they saluted the King, saying, “Here are we all in thy presence.” Whereto he made reply, “O Emirs of Baghdad, whom will ye have to be King over you after me, that I may inaugurate him during my lifetime, before the presence of you all?” Quoth they with one voice, “We are agreed upon thy daughter’s husband Hasan, son of the Wazir Ali.” Quoth he, “If it be so, go all of you and bring him before me.” So they all arose and, repairing to Hasan’s palace, said to him, “Rise, come with us to the King.” “Wherefore?” asked he, and they answered, “For a thing that will benefit both us and thee.” So he went in with them to the King and kissed the ground before his father-in-law who said to him, “Be seated, O my son!” He sat down and the King continued, “O Hasan, all the Emirs have approved of thee and agreed to make thee King over them after me; and it is my purpose to proclaim thee, whilst I yet live, and so make an end of the business.” But Hasan stood up and, kissing the ground once more before the King, said to him, “O our lord the King, among the Emirs there be many who are older than I and greater of worth; acquit me therefore of this thing.” But all the Emirs cried out saying, “We consent not but that thou be King over us.” Then said Hasan, “My father is older than I, and I and he are one thing; and it befits not to advance me over him.” But Ali said, “I will consent to nothing save whatso contenteth my brethren; and they have all chosen and agreed upon thee; wherefore gainsay thou not the King’s commandment and that of thy brethren.” And Hasan hung his head abashed before the King and his father. Then said the King to the Emirs, “Do ye all accept of him?” “We do,” answered they and recited thereupon seven Fátihahs.2 So the King said, “O Kazi, draw up a legal instrument testifying of these Emirs that they are agreed to make King over them my daughter’s husband Hasan.” The Kazi wrote the act and made it binding on all men,3 after they had sworn in a body the oath of fealty to Hasan. Then the King did likewise and bade him take his seat on the throne of kingship; whereupon they all arose and kissed King Hasan’s hands and did homage to him, and swore lealty to him. And the new King dispensed justice among the people that day in fashion right royal, and invested the grandees of the realm in splendid robes of honour. When the Divan broke up, he went in to and kissed the hands of his father-in-law who spake thus to him, “O my son, look thou rule the lieges in the fear of Allah;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Plur. of Álim=one learned in the law, a D.D. Mohammed did his best to abolish the priest and his craft by making each Moslem paterfamilias a pontifex in his own household and he severely condemned monkery and celibacy. But human nature was too much for him: even before his death ascetic associations began to crop up. Presently the Olema in Al–Islam formed themselves into a kind of clergy; with the single but highly important difference that they must (or ought to) live by some honest secular calling and not by the “cure of souls”; hence Mahomet IV. of Turkey was solemnly deposed. So far and no farther Mohammed was successful and his success has secured for him the lively and lasting hatred of the ecclesiastical caste which he so honestly and wisely attempted to abate. Even to the present day missionaries have a good word for the Guebre and the Buddhist, the Brahmanist and the Confucian, but none for the Moslem: Dr. Livingstone, for one instance of many, evidently preferred the Fetichist, whom he could convert, to the Unitarian Faithful whom he could not.
2 i.e. they recited seven times (an unusual number), for greater solemnity, the opening Chapter of the Koran which does general duty on such occasions as making covenants and swearing fealty. This proclaiming a King by acclamation suggests the origin of the old and venerable Portuguese institution.
3 By affixing his own seal and that of the King. This in later times was supplanted by the “Tughrá,” the imperial cypher or counter-mark (much like a writing master’s flourish), with which Europe has now been made familiar through the agency of Turkish tobacco.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Hasan was quit of the Divan, he went in to and kissed the hands of his wife’s father, who spake thus to him, “O my son, look thou rule the lieges in the fear of Allah;” whereto he replied, “O my father, through thy prayers for me, the grace and guidance of Allah will come to me.” Then he entered his own palace and was met by his wife and her mother and their attendants, who kissed his hands and gave him joy of his advancement, saying, “Be this day blessed!” Next he went in to his father and mother, who joyed with exceeding joy in that which Allah had vouchsafed him of his advancement to the kingship, and his father charged him to fear Allah and to deal mercifully with his subjects. He passed the night in glee and gladness, and on the morrow, having prayed the obligatory prayers ending with the usual short chapters1 of the Koran, he went up to the Divan, whither came all his officers and dignitaries. He passed the day in dispensing justice among the folk, bidding to graciousness and forbidding ungraciousness and appointing to place and displacing, till day-end, when the Divan broke up, after the goodliest fashion, and all the troops withdrew and each went his own way. Then he arose and repaired to the palace, where he found his father-in-law’s sickness grown heavy upon him and said to him, “May no ill befal thee!” At this the old King opened his eyes and said, “O Hasan!” and he replied, “At thy service, O my lord.” Quoth the old King “Mine appointed hour is at hand: be thou careful of thy wife and her mother, and look thou fear Allah and honour thy parents; and bide in awe of the majesty of the Requiting King and bear in mind that He commandeth justice and good works.” And King Hasan replied, “I hear and obey.” Now after this the old King lingered three days and then departed into the mercy of Almighty Allah. So they laid him out and shrouded and buried him and held over him readings and perlections of the Koran, to the end of the customary forty days. And King Hasan, son of the Wazir, reigned in his stead, and his subjects joyed in him and all his days were gladness; moreover, his father ceased not to be his chief Wazir on his right hand, and he took to himself another Wazir, to be at his left hand. His reign was a prosperous and well ordered, and he lived a long life as King of Baghdad; and Allah blessed him, by the old King’s daughter, with three sons who inherited the kingdom after him; and they abode in the solace of life and its pleasures till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies. And the glory be to Him who is eternal and in whose hand are annulling and confirming. And of the tales they tell is one of
1 Arab. “Wird”=the twenty-five last chapters of the Koran which are repeated, one or more at a time, after the end of the “Farz,” or obligatory prayers and ad libitum with the Sunnat or customary, and the Náfilah or supererogatory.
A man of the pilgrims once slept a long sleep and awaking, found no trace of the caravan. So he rose up and walked on, but lost his way and presently came to a tent, where he saw an old woman standing at the entrance and by her side a dog asleep. He went up to the tent and, saluting the old woman, sought of her food, when she replied, “Go to yonder Wady and catch thy sufficiency of serpents, that I may broil of them for thee and give thee to eat.” Rejoined the pilgrim, “I dare not catch serpents nor did I ever eat them.” Quoth the old woman, “I will go with thee and catch some; fear not.” So she went with him, followed by the dog, to the valley and, catching a sufficient number of serpents, proceeded to broil them. He saw nothing for it (saith the story teller) but to eat, in fear of hunger and exhaustion; so he ate of the serpents.1 Then he was athirst and asked for water to drink; and she answered, “Go to the spring and drink.” Accordingly, he went to the spring and found the water thereof bitter; yet needs must he drink of it despite its bitterness, because of the violence of his thirst. Presently he returned to the old woman and said to her, “I marvel, O ancient dame, at thy choosing to sojourn in this place”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The sensible creed of Al–Islam freely allows anthropophagy when it saves life; a contrast to the sentimentalism of the West which brings a “charge of cannibalism” against unfortunate expeditionists. I particularly allude to the scandalous pulings of the English Press over the gallant and unfortunate Greely voyage. (The Academy, Sept. 25, 1884.)
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the palmer-man drank the bitter draught for stress of thirst, he returned and said “I marvel, O ancient dame, at thy choosing to sojourn in this place and thy putting up with such meat and drink!” She asked, “And how is it then in thy country?”; whereto he answered, “In my country are houses wide and spacious and fruits ripe and delicious and waters sweet and viands savorous and of goodly use and meats fat and full of juice and flocks innumerous and all things pleasant and all the goods of life, the like whereof are not, save in the Paradise which Allah the Omnipotent hath promised to His servants pious.” Replied she, “All this have I heard: but tell me, have ye a Sultan who ruleth over you and is tyrannical in his rule and under whose hand you are; one who, if any of you commit an offence, taketh his goods and ruineth him and who, whenas he will, turneth you out of house and home and uprooteth you, stock and branch?” Replied the man, “Indeed that may be;” and she rejoined, “If so, by Allah, these your delicious food and life of daintyhood and gifts however good, with tyranny and oppression, are but a searching poison, while our coarse meat which in freedom and safety we eat is a healthful medicine. Hast thou not heard that the best of boons, after Al–Islam, the true Faith, are sanity and security?”1 “Now such boons (quoth he who telleth the tale) may be by the just rule of the Sultan, Vice-regent of Allah on His earth, and the goodness of his polity. The Sultan of time past needed but little awfulness, for when the lieges saw him, they feared him; but the Sultan of these days hath need of the most accomplished polity and the utmost majesty, because men are not as men of by-gone time and this our age is one of folk opprobrious, and is greatly calamitous, noted for folly and hardness of heart and inclined to hate and enmity. If, therefore, the Sultan (which Almighty Allah forfend!) be weak or wanting in polity and majesty, this will be the assured cause of his country’s ruin. Quoth the proverb, ‘An hundred years of the Sultan’s tyranny, but not one year of the people’s tyranny one over other.’ When the lieges oppress one another, Allah setteth over them a tyrannical Sultan and a terrible King. Thus it is told in history that one day there was sent to Al–Hajjáj bin Yúsuf a slip of paper, whereon was written, ‘Fear Allah and oppress not His servants with all manner of oppression.’ When he read this, he mounted the pulpit (for he was eloquent and ever ready of speech), and said, ‘O folk, Allah Almighty hath made me ruler over you, by reason of your frowardness;’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The story is mere Æsopic: the “Two dogs” contains it all. One of Mohammed’s sensible sayings is recorded and deserves repetition:—“Empire endureth with infidelity (idolatry, etc.), but not with tyranny.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hajjaj Yousuf-son read the paper he mounted the pulpit and said, “O folk, Allah Almighty hath made me ruler over you by reason of your frowardness; and indeed, though I die yet will ye not be delivered from oppression, with these your ill deeds; for the Almighty hath created like unto me many an one. If it be not I, ’twill be one more mischievous than I and a mightier in oppression and a more merciless in his majesty; even as saith the poet:1 —
‘For not a deed the hand can try
Save ‘neath the hand of God on high,
Nor tyrant harsh work tyranny
Uncrushed by tyrant harsh as he.’
Tyranny is feared: but justice is the best of all things. We beg Allah to better our case!” And among tales is that of
1 This couplet occurs in Night xxi. (vol. i. 207); so I give Torrens (p.207) by way of variety.
There was once in Baghdad a man of consequence and rich in monies and immoveables, who was one of the chiefs of the merchants; and Allah had largely endowed him with worldly goods, but had not vouchsafed him what he longed for of offspring; and there passed over him a long space of time, without his being blessed with issue, male or female. His years waxed great; his bones became wasted and his back bent; weakness and weariness grew upon him, and he feared the loss of his wealth and possessions, seeing he had no child whom he might make his heir and by whom his name should be remembered. So he betook himself with supplication to Almighty Allah, fasting by day and praying through the night. Moreover, he vowed many vows to the Living, the Eternal; and visited the pious and was constant in supplication to the Most Highest, till He gave ear to him and accepted his prayer and took pity on his straining and complaining; so that, before many days were past, he knew carnally one of his women and she conceived by him the same night. In due time she finished her months and, casting her burden, bore a male child as he were a slice of the moon; whereupon the merchant fulfilled his vows in his gratitude to Allah, (to whom be honour and glory!) and gave alms and clothed the widow and the orphan. On the seventh night after the boy’s birth, he named him Abu al-Husn,2 and the wet-nurses suckled him and the dry-nurses dandled him and the servants and the slaves carried him and handled him, till he shot up and grew tall and throve greatly and learnt the Sublime Koran and the ordinances of Al–Islam and the Canons of the True Faith; and calligraphy and poetry and mathematics and archery. On this wise he became the union-pearl of his age and the goodliest of the folk of his time and his day; fair of face and of tongue fluent, carrying himself with a light and graceful gait and glorying in his stature proportionate and amorous graces which were to many a bait: and his cheeks were red and flower-white was his forehead and his side face waxed brown with tender down, even as saith one, describing him,
“The spring of the down on cheeks right clearly shows:
And how when the Spring is gone shall last the rose?
Dost thou not see that the growth upon his cheek
Is violet-bloom that from its leaves outgrows.”
He abode awhile in ease and happiness with his father, who rejoiced and delighted in him, till he came to man’s estate, when the merchant one day made him sit down before him and said, “O my son, the appointed term draweth near; my hour of death is at hand and it remaineth but to meet Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!). I leave thee what shall suffice thee, even to thy son’s son, of monies and mansions, farms and gardens; wherefore, fear thou Almighty Allah, O my son, in dealing with that which I bequeath to thee and follow none but those who will help thee to the Divine favour.” Not long after, he sickened and died; so his son ordered his funeral,3 after the goodliest wise, and burying him, returned to his house and sat mourning for him many days and nights. But behold, certain of his friends came in to him and said to him, “Whoso leaveth a son like thee is not dead; indeed, what is past is past and fled and mourning beseemeth none but the young maid and the wife cloistered.” And they ceased not from him till they wrought on him to enter the Hammam and break off his mourning. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (ii. 636) omits this tale, “as it would not only require a volume of commentary but be extremely tiresome to most readers.” Quite true; but it is valuable to Oriental Students who are beginning their studies, as an excellent compendium of doctrine and practice according to the Shafi’í School.
2 Pronounced Aboo ‘l-Husn = Father of Beauty, a fancy name.
3 As in most hot climates so in Egypt the dead are buried at once despite the risk of vivisepulture. This seems an instinct with the Semitic (Arabian) race teste Abraham, as with the Gypsy. Hence the Moslems have invoked religious aid. The Mishkát al-Masábih (i. 387) makes Mohammed say, “When any one of you dieth you may not keep him in the house but bear him quickly to his grave”; and again, “Be quick in raising up the bier: for if the dead have been a good man, it is good to bear him gravewards without delay; and if bad, it is frowardness ye put from your necks.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abu al-Husn was visited by his friends and taken to the Hamman and persuaded to break off his mourning, he presently forgot his father’s charge, and his head was turned by his riches; he thought fortune would always wone with him as it was, and that wealth would ever wax and never wane. So he ate and drank and made merry and took his pleasure and gave gifts of gear and coin and was profuse with gold and addrest himself up to eating fowls and breaking the seals of wine-flasks and listening to the giggle of the daughter of the vine, as she gurgled from the flagon and enjoying the jingle of the singing-girls; nor did he give over this way of life, till his wealth was wasted and the case worsened and all his goods went from him and he bit his hands1 in bitter penitence. For of a truth he had nothing left, after that which he had squandered, but a concubine, a slave-girl whom his father had bequeathed to him with the rest of his estate: and she had no equal in beauty and loveliness and brightness and liveliness and symmetric stature and perfect grace. She was past mistress in every manner of arts and accomplishments and endowed with many excellences, surpassing all the folk of her age and time. She was grown more notorious than a way-mark,2 for her seductive genius, and outdid the fair both in theory and practice, and she was noted for her swimming gait, flexile and delicate, albeit she was full five feet in height and by all the boons of fortune deckt and dight, with strait arched brows twain, as they were the crescent moon of Sha’abán,3 and eyes like gazelles’ eyne; and nose like the edge of scymitar fine and cheeks like anemones of blood-red shine; and mouth like Solomon’s seal and sign and teeth like necklaces of pearls in line; and navel holding an ounce of oil of benzoin and waist more slender than his body whom love hath wasted and whom concealment hath made sick with pine and hind parts heavier than two hills of sand; briefly she was a volume of charms after his saying who saith,
“Her fair shape ravisheth, if face to face she did appear,
And if she turn, for severance from her she slayeth sheer.
Sun-like, full-moon-like, sapling-like, unto her character
Estrangement no wise appertains nor cruelty austere.
Under the bosom of her shift the garths of Eden are
And the full-moon revolveth still upon her neck-rings’ sphere.”4
She seemed a full moon rising and a gazelle browsing, a girl of nine plus five5 shaming the moon and sun, even as saith of her the sayer eloquent and ingenious,
“Semblance of full-moon Heaven bore,
When five and five are conjoined by four;
’Tis not my sin if she made of me
Its like when it riseth horizon o’er.”6
Clean of skin, odoriferous of breath, it seemed as if she were of fire fashioned and of crystal moulded; rose-red was the cheek of her and perfect the shape and form of her; even as one saith of her, describing her,
“Scented with sandal7 and musk, right proudly doth she go,
With gold and silver and rose and saffron-colour aglow. A flower in a garden she is, a pearl in an ouch of gold
Or an image in chapel8 set for worship of high and low.
Slender and shapely she is; vivacity bids her arise,
But the weight of her hips says, ‘Sit, or softly and slowly go.’
Whenas her favours I seek and sue for my heart’s desire,
‘Be gracious,’ her beauty says; but her coquetry answers, ‘No.’
Glory to Him who made beauty her portion, and that
Of her lover to be the prate of the censurers, heigho!”9
She captivated all who saw her, with the excellence of her beauty and the sweetness of her smile,10 and shot them down with the shafts she launched from her eyes; and withal she was eloquent of speech and excellently skilled in verse. Now when Abu al-Husn had squandered all his gold, and his ill-plight all could behold, and there remained to him naught save this slave-girl, he abode three days without tasting meat or taking rest in sleep, and the handmaid said to him, “O my lord, carry me to the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This biting of the hand in Al–Haríri expresses bitterness of repentance and he uses more than once the Koranic phrase (chapter vii., 148) “Sukita fí aydíhim,” lit. where it (the biting) was fallen upon their hands; i.e. when it repented them; “sukita” being here not a passive verb as it appears, but an impersonal form uncommon in Arabic. The action is instinctive, a survival of the days when man was a snarling and snapping animal (physically) armed only with claws and teeth.
2 Arab. “‘Alam,” applied to many things, an “old man” of stones (Kákúr), a signpost with a rag on the top, etc.
3 The moon of Ramazan was noticed in Night ix. That of Sha’aban (eighth month) begins the fighting month after the conclusion of the Treuga Dei in Rajab. See Night ccclxxviii.
4 These lines have occurred in Night cccxix. I give Mr. Payne’s version for variety.
5 i.e. in her prime, at fourteen to fifteen.
6 i.e. pale and yellow.
7 The word means the wood; but it alludes to a preparation made by levigating it on a stone called in India “Sandlásá.” The gruel-like stuff is applied with the right hand to the right side of the neck, drawing the open fingers from behind forwards so as to leave four distinct streaks, then down to the left side, and so on to the other parts of the body.
8 Arab. “Haykal” which included the Porch, the Holy and the Holy of Holies. The word is used as in a wider sense by Josephus A. J. v. v. 3. In Moslem writings it is applied to a Christian Church generally, on account of its images.
9 These lines having occurred before, I here quote Mr. Payne.
10 Arab writers often mention the smile of beauty, but rarely, after European fashion, the laugh, which they look upon as undignified. A Moslem will say “Don’t guffaw (Kahkahah) in that way; leave giggling and grinning to monkeys and Christians.” The Spaniards, a grave people, remark that Christ never laughed. I would draw the reader’s attention to a theory of mine that the open-hearted laugh has the sound of the vowels a and o; while e, i, and u belong to what may be roughly classed as the rogue order.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the slave-girl to her master, “O my lord, carry me to Harun al-Rashid, fifth of the sons of Abbas, and seek of him to my price ten thousand dinars. If he deem me dear, say to him: ‘O Prince of True Believers, my handmaid is worth more than this: do but prove her, and her value will be magnified in thine eyes; for this slave-girl hath not her equal, and she were unfit to any but thou.’” And she added, “Beware, O my lord, of selling me at less than the sum I have named; indeed ’tis but little for the like of me.” Now her owner knew not her worth nor that she had no equal in her day; but he carried her to the Caliph and set her in the presence and repeated what she had bidden him say. The Caliph asked her, “What is thy name?”; to which she answered, “My name is Tawaddud.”1 He then enquired, “O Tawaddud, in what branches of knowledge dost thou excel?”; and she replied, “O my lord, I am versed in syntax and poetry and jurisprudence and exegesis and philosophy; and I am skilled in music and the knowledge of the Divine ordinances and in arithmetic and geodesy and geometry and the fables of the ancients. I know the Sublime Koran by heart and have read it according to the seven, the ten and the fourteen modes. I know the number of its chapters and versets and sections and words; and its halves and fourths and eighths and tenths; the number of prostrations which occur in it and the sum total of its letters; and I know what there is in it of abrogating and abrogated2; also what parts of it were revealed at Al–Medinah and what at Meccah and the cause of the different revelations. I know the Holy Traditions of the Apostle’s sayings, historical and legendary, the established and those whose ascription is doubtful; and I have studied the exact sciences, geometry and philosophy and medicine and logic and rhetoric and composition; and I have learnt many things by rote and am passionately fond of poetry. I can play the lute and know its gamut and notes and notation and the crescendo and diminuendo. If I sing and dance, I seduce, and if I dress and scent myself, I slay. In fine, I have reached a pitch of perfection such as can be estimated only by those of them who are firmly rooted in knowledge.”3 Now when the Caliph heard these words spoken by one so young, he wondered at her eloquence, and turning to Abu al-Husn, said, “I will summon those who shall discuss with her all she claimeth to know; if she answer correctly, I will give thee the price thou askest for her and more; and if not, thou art fitter to have her than I.” “With gladness and goodly gree, O Commander of the Faithful,” replied Abu al-Husn. So the Caliph wrote to the Viceroy of Bassorah, to send him Ibrahim bin Siyyár the prosodist, who was the first man of his day in argument and eloquence and poetry and logic, and bade him bring with him readers of the Koran and learned doctors of the law and physicians and astrologers and scientists and mathematicians and philosophers; and Ibrahim was more learned than all. In a little while they arrived at the palace of the Caliphate, knowing not what was to do, and the Caliph sent for them to his sitting-chamber and ordered them to be seated. So they sat down and he bade bring the damsel Tawaddud who came and unveiling, showed herself, as she were a sparkling star.4 The Caliph set her a stool of gold; and she saluted, and speaking with an eloquent tongue, said, “O Commander of the Faithful, bid the Olema and the doctors of law and leaches and astrologers and scientists and mathematicians and all here present contend with me in argument.” So he said to them, “I desire of you that ye dispute with this damsel on the things of her faith, and stultify her argument in all she advanceth;” and they answered, saying, “We hear and we obey Allah and thee, O Commander of the Faithful.” Upon this Tawaddud bowed her head and said, “Which of you is the doctor of the law, the scholar, versed in the readings of the Koran and in the Traditions?” Quoth one of them, “I am the man thou seekest.” Quoth she, “Then ask me of what thou wilt.” Said the doctor, “Hast thou read the precious book of Allah and dost thou know its cancelling and cancelled parts and hast thou meditated its versets and its letters?” “Yes,” answered she. “Then,” said he, “I will proceed to question thee of the obligations and the immutable ordinances: so tell me of these, O damsel, and who is thy Lord, who thy prophet, who thy Guide, what is thy point of fronting in prayer, and who be thy brethren? Also what thy spiritual path and what thy highway?” Whereto she replied, “Allah is my Lord, and Mohammed (whom Allah save and assain!) my prophet, and the Koran is my guide and the Ka’abah my fronting; and the True-believers are my brethren. The practice of good is my path and the Sunnah my highway.” The Caliph again marvelled at her words so eloquently spoken by one so young; and the doctor pursued, “O damsel, with what do we know Almighty Allah?” Said she, “With the understanding.” Said he, “And what is the understanding?” Quoth she, “It is of two kinds, natural and acquired.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. gaining the love of another, love.
2 i.e. the abrogated passages and those by which they are abrogated. This division is necessary for “inspired volumes,” which always abound in contradictions. But the charge of “opportunism” brought against the Koran is truly absurd; as if “revelation” could possibly be aught save opportune.
3 Koran iv. 160, the chapter “Women.”
4 She unveiled, being a slave-girl and for sale. If a free woman show her face to a Moslem, he breaks out into violent abuse, because the act is intended to let him know that he is looked upon as a small boy or an eunuch or a Chriastian — in fact not a man.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel continued, “The understanding is of two kinds, natural and acquired. The natural is that which Allah (to whom be honour and glory!) created for the right direction of His servants after His will; and the acquired is that which men accomplish by dint of study and fair knowledge.” He rejoined, “Thou hast answered well.” Q “Where is the seat of the understanding?”—“Allah casteth it in the heart whence its lustrous beams ascend to the brain and there become fixed.” Q “How knowest thou the Prophet of Allah?” “By the reading of Allah’s Holy Book and by signs and proofs and portents and miracles!” Q “What are the obligations and the immutable ordinances?” “The obligations are five. (1) Testification that there is no iláh1 but Allah, no god but the God alone and One, which for partner hath none, and that Mohammed is His servant and His apostle. (2) The standing in prayers.2 (3) The payment of the poor-rate. (4) Fasting Ramazan. (5) The Pilgrimage to Allah’s Holy House for all to whom the journey is possible. The immutable ordinances are four; to wit, night and day and sun and moon, the which build up life and hope; nor any son of Adam wotteth if they will be destroyed on the Day of Judgment.” Q “What are the obligatory observances of the Faith?” “They are five, prayer, almsgiving, fasting, pilgrimage, fighting for the Faith and abstinence from the forbidden.” Q “Why dost thou stand up to pray?” “To express the devout intent of the slave acknowledging the Deity.” Q “What are the obligatory conditions which precede standing in prayer?” “Purification, covering the shame, avoidance of soiled clothes, standing on a clean place, fronting the Ka’abah, an upright posture, the intent3 and the pronouncing ‘Allaho Akbar’ of prohibition.”4 Q “With what shouldest thou go forth from thy house to pray?” “With the intent of worship mentally pronounced.” Q “With what intent shouldest thou enter the mosque?” “With an intent of service.” Q “Why do we front the Kiblah5?” “In obedience to three Divine orders and one Traditional ordinance.” Q “What are the beginning, the consecration and the end of prayer?” “Purification beginneth prayer, saying the Allaho Akbar of prohibition consecrateth, and the salutation endeth prayer.” Q “What deserveth he who neglecteth prayer?” “It is reported, among the authentic Traditions of the Prophet, that he said, ‘Whoso neglecteth prayer wilfully and purposely hath no part in Al–Islam.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Ilah=Heb. El, a most difficult root, meaning strength, interposition, God (Numen) “the” (article) “don’t” (do not), etc. etc.
2 As far as I know Christians are the only worshippers who kneel as if their lower legs were cut off and who “join hands” like the captive offering his wrists to be bound (dare manus). The posture, however, is not so ignoble as that of the Moslem “Sijdah” (prostration) which made certain North African tribes reject Al–Islam saying, “These men show their hind parts to heaven.”
3 i.e. saying “I intend (purpose) to pray (for instance) the two-bow prayer (ruka’tayn) of the day-break,” etc.
4 So called because it prohibits speaking with others till the prayer is ended.
5 Lit. “any thing opposite;” here used for the Ka’abah towards which men turn in prayer; as Guebres face the sun or fire and idolators their images. “Al–Kiblatayn” (= the two Kiblahs) means Meccah and Jerusalem, which was faced by Moslems as well as Jews and Christians till Mohammed changed the direction. For the occasion of the change see my Pilgrimage, ii. 320.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after the damsel had repeated the words of that Holy Tradition the doctor cried, “Thou hast replied aright: now say me, what is prayer?” “Prayer is communion between the slave and his lord, and in it are ten virtues: (1) it illumineth the heart; (2) it maketh the face shine; (3) it pleaseth the Compassionate One; (4) it angereth Satan; (5) it conjureth calamity; (6) it wardeth off the mischief of enemies; (7) it multiplieth mercy; (8) it forfendeth vengeance and punishment; (9) it bringeth the slave nigh unto his lord; and (10) it restraineth from lewdness and frowardness. Hence it is one of the absolute requisites and obligatory ordinances and the pillar of the Faith.” Q “What is the key of prayer?” “Wuzd or the lesser ablution.”1 Q “What is the key to the lesser ablution?” “Intention and naming the Almighty.” Q “What is the key of naming the Almighty?” “Assured faith.” Q “What is the key of faith?” “Trust in the Lord.” Q “What is the key of trust in the Lord?” “Hope.” Q “What is the key of hope?” “Obedience.” Q “What is the key of obedience?” “The confession of the Unity and the acknowledgment of the divinity of Allah.” Q “What are the Divine ordinances of Wuzu, the minor ablution?” “They are six, according to the canon of the Imam al-Sháfi’í Mohammed bin Idris (of whom Allah accept!): (1) intent while washing the face; (2) washing the face; (3) washing the hands and forearms; (4) wiping part of the head; (5) washing the feet and heels; and (6) observing due order.2 And the traditional statutes are ten: (1) nomination; (2) and washing the hands before putting them into the water-pot; (3) and mouth-rinsing; (4) and snuffing;3 (5) and wiping the whole head; (6) and wetting the ears within and without with fresh water; (7) and separating a thick beard; (8) and separating the fingers and toes;4 (9) and washing the right foot before the left and (10) doing each of these thrice and all in unbroken order. When the minor ablution is ended, the worshipper should say, I testify that there is no god but the God, the One, which for partner hath none, and I testify that Mohammed is His servant and His apostle. O my Allah, make me of those who repent and in purity are permanent! Glory to Thee, O my God, and in Thy praise I bear witness, that there is no god save Thou! I crave pardon of Thee and I repent to Thee! For it is reported, in the Holy Traditions, that the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!) said of this prayer, ‘Whoso endeth every ablution with this prayer, the eight gates of Paradise are open to him; he shall enter at which he pleaseth.’” Q “When a man purposeth ablution, what betideth him from the angels and the devils?” “When a man prepareth for ablution, the angels come and stand on his right and the devils on his left hand.5 If he name Almighty Allah at the beginning of the ablution, the devils flee from him and the angels hover over him with a pavilion of light, having four ropes, to each an angel glorifying Allah and craving pardon for him, so long as he remaineth silent or calleth upon the name of Allah. But if he omit to begin washing with naming Allah (to whom belong might and majesty!), neither remain silent, the devils take command of him; and the angels depart from him and Satan whispereth evil thoughts unto him, till he fall into doubt and come short in his ablution. For (quoth he on whom be blessing and peace!), ‘A perfect ablution driveth away Satan and assureth against the tyranny of the Sultan’; and again quoth he, ‘If calamity befal one who is not pure by ablution; verily and assuredly let him blame none but himself.’” Q “What should a man do when he awaketh from sleep?” “He should wash his hands thrice, before putting them into the water vessel.” Q “What are the Koranic and traditional orders anent Ghusl, the complete ablution6?” “The divine ordinances are intent and ‘crowning’7 the whole body with water, that is, the liquid shall come at every part of the hair and skin. Now the traditional ordinances are the minor ablution as preliminary; rubbing the body; separating the hair and deferring in words8 the washing of the feet till the end of the ablution.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Which includes Tayammum or washing with sand. This is a very cleanly practice in a hot, dry land and was adopted long before Mohammed. Cedrenus tells of baptism with sand being administered to a dying traveller in the African desert.
2 The Koranic order for Wuzú is concise and as usual obscure, giving rise to a host of disputes and casuistical questions. Its text runs (chapt. v.), “O true believers, when you prepare to pray, wash (Ghusl) your faces, and your hands unto the elbows; and rub (Mas-h) your hands and your feet unto the ankles; and if ye be unclean by having lain with a woman, wash (Ghusl) yourselves all over.” The purifications and ceremonious ablutions of the Jews originated this command; and the early Christians did very unwisely in not making the bath obligatory. St. Paul (Heb. xi. 22) says, “Let us draw near with a true heart . . . having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with clean (or pure) water.” But this did not suffice. Hence the Eastern Christian, in hot climates where cleanliness should rank before godliness, is distinguished by his dirt which as a holy or reverend man he makes still dirtier, and he offers an ugly comparison with the Moslem and especially the Hindu. The neglect of commands to wash and prohibitions to drink strong waters are the two grand physical objections of the Christian code of morality.
3 Arab. “Istinshák”=snuffing up water from the palm of the right hand so as to clean thoroughly the nostrils. This “function” is unreasonably neglected in Europe, to the detriment of the mucous membrane and the olfactory nerves.
4 So as to wash between them. The thick beard is combed out with the fingers.
5 Poor human nature! How sad to compare ita pretensions with its actualities.
6 Complete ablution is rendered necessary chiefly by the emission of semen either in copulation or in nocturnal pollution. The water must be pure and not less than a certain quantity, and it must touch every part of the skin beginning with the right half of the person and ending with the left. Hence a plunge-bath is generally preferred.
7 Arab. “Ta’mím,” lit. crowning with turband, or tiara, here=covering, i.e. wetting.
8 This practice (saying “I purpose to defer the washing of the feet,” etc.) is now somewhat obsolete.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel had recounted to the doctor what were the divine and traditional orders anent Ghusl or total ablution, quoth he, “Thou hast replied aright: now tell me what are the occasions for Tayammum, or making the ablution with sand and dust; and what are the ordinances thereof, divine and human?” “The reasons are seven, viz.: want of water; fear lest water lack; need thereto; going astray on a march; sickness; having broken bones in splints and having open wounds.1 As for its ordinances, the divine number four, viz., intent, dust, clapping it to the face and clapping it upon the hands; and the human number two, nomination and preferring the right before the left hand.” Q “What are the conditions, the pillars or essentials, and the traditional statutes of prayer?” “The conditions are five: (1) purification of the members; (2) covering of the privy parts; (3) observing the proper hours, either of certainty or to the best of one’s belief; (4) fronting the Kiblah; and (5) standing on a clean place. The pillars or essentials number twelve: (1) intent; (2) the Takbír or magnification of prohibition; (3) standing when able to stand2; (4) repeating the Fatihah or opening chapter of the Koran and saying, ‘In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate!’ with a verse thereof according to the canon of the Imam Al–Shafi’i; (5) bowing the body and keeping it bowed; (6) returning to the upright posture and so remaining for the time requisite; (7) prostration and permanence therein; (8) sitting between two prostrations and permanence therein; (9) repeating the latter profession of the Faith and sitting up therefor; (10) invoking benediction on the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!) (11) the first Salutation,3 and (12) the intent of making an end of prayer expressed in words. But the traditional statutes are the call to prayer; the standing posture; raising the hands (to either side of the face) whilst pronouncing the prohibition; uttering the magnification before reciting the Fatihah; seeking refuge with Allah4; saying, ‘Amen’; repeating the chapter of the Koran after the Fatihah, repeating the magnifications during change of posture; saying, ‘May Allah hear him who praiseth Him! and O our Lord, to Thee be the praise!’; praying aloud in the proper place5 and praying under the breath prayers so prescribed; the first profession of unity and sitting up thereto; blessing the Prophet therein; blessing his family in the latter profession and the second Salutation.” Q “On what is the Zakát or obligatory poor-rate taxable?” “On gold and silver and camels and oxen and sheep and wheat and barley and holcus and millet and beans and vetches and rice and raisins and dates.” Q “What is the Zakát or poor-rate on gold?” “Below twenty miskals or dinars, nothing; but on that amount half a dinar for every score and so on proportionally.6” Q “On silver?” “Under two hundred dirhams nothing, then five dirhams on every two hundred and so forth.” Q “On camels?” “For every five, an ewe, or for every twenty-five a pregnant camel.” Q “On sheep?” “An ewe for every forty head,” Q “What are the ordinances of the Ramazan Fast?” “The Koranic are intent; abstinence from eating, drinking and carnal copulation, and the stoppage of vomiting. It is incumbent on all who submit to the Law, save women in their courses and forty days after childbirth; and it becomes obligatory on sight of the new moon or on news of its appearance, brought by a trustworthy person and commending itself as truth to the hearer’s heart; and among its requisites is that the intent be pronounced at nightfall. The traditional ordinances of fasting are, hastening to break the fast at sundown; deferring the fore-dawn meal,7 and abstaining from speech, save for good works and for calling on the name of Allah and reciting the Koran.” Q “What things vitiate not the fast?” “The use of unguents and eye-powders and the dust of the road and the undesigned swallowing of saliva and the emission of seed in nocturnal pollution or at the sight of a strange woman and blooding and cupping; none of these things vitiates the fast.” Q “What are the prayers of the two great annual Festivals?” “Two one-bow prayers, which be a traditional ordinance, without call to prayer or standing up to pronounce the call;8 but let the Moslem say, ‘Prayer is a collector of all folk!’9 and pronounce ‘Allaho Akbar’ seven times in the first prayer, besides the Takbir of prohibition; and, in the second, five times, besides the magnification of rising up (according to the doctrine of the Imam Al–Shafi’i, on whom Allah have mercy!) and make the profession of the Faith.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arabs have a prejudice against the hydropathic treatment of wounds, holding that water poisons them: and, as the native produce usually contains salt, soda and magnesia, they are justified by many cases. I once tried water-bandages in Arabia and failed dismally.
2 The sick man says his prayers lying in bed, etc., and as he best can.
3 i.e. saying, “And peace be on us and on the worshippers of Allah which be pious.”
4 i.e. saying, “ I seek refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned.”
5 Certain parts should be recited aloud (jahr) and others sotto voce (with mussitation=Khafi). No mistake must be made in this matter where a Moslem cannot err.
6 Hence an interest of two-and-a-half percent is not held to be “Ribá” or unlawful gain of money by money, usury.
7 The meal must be finished before the faster can plainly distinguish the white thread from the black thread (Koran ii. 183); some understand this literally, others apply it to the dark and silvery streak of zodiacal light which appears over the Eastern horizon an hour or so before sunrise. The fast then begins and ends with the disappearance of the sun. I have noticed its pains and penalties in my Pilgrimage, i. 110, etc.
8 For the “Azán” or call to prayer see Lane, M. E., chapt. xviii. The chant, however, differs in every country, and a practical ear will know the land by its call.
9 Arab. “Hadís” or saying of the Apostle.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel had answered the doctor anent the Festival-prayers, quoth he, “Thou hast replied aright: now tell me what are the prayers prescribed on the occasion of an eclipse of the sun or moon?” “Two one-bow prayers without call to prayer or standing thereto by the worshipper, who shall make in each two-bow prayer double standing up and double inclinations and two-fold prostrations, then sit and testify and salute.” Q “What is the ritual of prayer for rain?” “Two one-bow prayers without call to prayer or standing thereto; then shall the Moslem make the profession and salute. Moreover the Imam shall deliver an exhortation and ask pardon of Allah, in place of the magnification, as in the two sermons of the Festivals and turn his mantle upper edge downwards and pray and supplicate.” Q “What are the Witr, the additional or occasional prayers?” “The least is a one-bow prayer and the most eleven.” Q “What is the forenoon prayer?” “At least, two one-bow prayers and at most, twelve.” Q “What hast thou to say of the I’itikáf or retreat1?” “It is a matter of traditional ordinance.” Q “What are its conditions?” “(1) intent; (2) not leaving the mosque save of necessity; (3) not having to do with a woman; (4) fasting; and (5) abstaining from speech.” Q “Under what conditions is the Hajj or Pilgrimage2 obligatory?” “Manhood, and understanding and being a Moslem and practicability; in which case it is obligatory on all, once before death.” Q “What are the Koranic statutes of the Pilgrimage?” “(1) The Ihrám or pilgrim’s habit; (2) the standing at Arafat; (3) circumambulating the Ka’abah; (4) running between Safá and Marwah3; and (5) shaving or clipping the hair.” Q “What are the Koranic statutes of the ‘Umrah4 or lesser pilgrimage?” “Assuming the pilgrim’s habit and compassing and running.” Q “What are the Koranic ordinances of the assumption of the pilgrim’s habit?”5 “Doffing sewn garments, forswearing perfume and ceasing to shave the head or pare the nails, and avoiding the killing of game, and eschewing carnal copulation.” Q “What are the traditional statutes of the pilgrimage?” “(1) The crying out ‘Labbay’ka, Adsum, Here am I, O our Lord, here am I!’64 (2) the Ka’abah-circuitings7 of arrival and departure; (3) the passing the night at the Mosque of Muzdalifah and in the valley of Mina, and (4) the lapidation.8” Q “What is the Jihád or Holy War and its essentials?” “Its essentials are: (1) the descent of the Infidels upon us; (2) the presence of the Imam; (3) a state of preparation; and (4) firmness in meeting the foe. Its traditional ordinance is incital to battle, in that the Most High hath said, ‘O thou my Prophet, incite the faithful to fight!’9” Q “What are the ordinances of buying and selling?” “The Koranic are: (1) offer and acceptance and (2) if the thing sold be a white slave, by whom one profiteth, all possible endeavour to convert him to Al–Islam; and (3) to abstain from usury; the traditional are: making void10 and option before not after separating, according to his saying (whom Allah bless and preserve!), ‘The parties to a sale shall have the option of cancelling or altering terms whilst they are yet unseparated.’”, Q “What is it forbidden to sell for what?” “On this point I mind me of an authentic tradition, reported by Náf’i11 of the Apostle of Allah, that he forbade the barter of dried dates for fresh and fresh figs for dry and jerked for fresh meat and cream for clarified butter; in fine, all eatables of one and the same kind, it is unlawful to buy or barter some for other some.12” Now when the doctor of law heard her words and knew that she was wit-keen, penetrative, ingenious and learned in jurisprudence and the Traditions and the interpretation of the Koran and what not else, he said in his mind, “Needs must I manoeuvre with her, that I may overcome her in the assembly of the Commander of the Faithful.” So he said to her, “O damsel, what is the lexicographical meaning of Wuzu?” And she answered, “Philologically it signifieth cleanliness and freedom from impurities.” Q “And of Salát or prayer?” “An invocation of good” Q “And of Ghusl?” “Purification.” Q “And of Saum or fasting?” “Abstention.” Q “And of Zakát?” “Increase. Q “And of Hajj or pilgrimage?” “Visitation.” Q “And of Jihád?” “Repelling.” With this the doctor’s arguments were cut off — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “Al-I’itikaf” resembles the Christian “retreat;” but the worshipper generally retires to a mosque, especially in Meccah. The Apostle practised it on Jabal Hira and other places.
2 The word is the Heb. “Hagg” whose primary meaning is circularity of form or movement. Hence it applied to religious festivals in which dancing round the idol played a prime part; and Lucian of “saltation” says, dancing was from the beginning and coeval with the ancient god, Love. But man danced with joy before he worshipped, and, when he invented a systematic saltation, he made it represent two things, and only two things, love and war, in most primitive form, courtship and fighting.
3 Two adjoining ground-waves in Meccah. For these and for the places subsequently mentioned the curious will consult my Pilgrimage, iii. 226, etc.
4 The ‘Umrah or lesser Pilgrimage, I have noted, is the ceremony performed in Meccah at any time out of the pilgrim-season proper, i.e. between the eighth and tenth days of the twelfth lunar month Zu ‘l-Hijjah. It does not entitle the Moslem to be called Hájj (pilgrim) or Hájí as Persians and Indians corrupt the word.
5 I need hardly note that Mohammed borrowed his pilgrimage-practices from the pagan Arabs who, centuries before his day, danced around the Meccan Ka’abah. Nor can he be blamed for having perpetuated a Gentile rite, if indeed it be true that the Ka’abah contained relics of Abraham and Ishmael.
6 On first sighting Meccah. See Night xci.
7 Arab. “Tawáf:” the place is called Matáf and the guide Mutawwif. (Pilgrimage, iii. 193, 205.) The seven courses are termed Ashwát.
8 Stoning the Devil at Mina. (Pilgrimage, iii. 282.) Hence Satan’s title “the Stoned” (lapidated not castrated).
9 Koran viii. 66; in the chapter entided “Spoil,” and relating mainly to the “day of Al–Bedr.
10 Arab. “Al-Ikálah”= cancelling: Mr. Payne uses the technical term “resiliation.”
11 Freedman of Abdallah, son of the Caliph Omar and noted as a traditionist.
12 i.e. at a profit: the exchange must be equal — an ordinance intended to protect the poor. Arabs have strange prejudices in these matters; for instance it disgraces a Badawi to take money for milk.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the doctor’s arguments were cut off, he rose to his feet and said, “Bear witness against me, O Commander of the Faithful, that this damsel is more learned in the Law than I am.” Quoth she, “I will ask thee somewhat, which do thou answer me speedily, an thou be indeed a learned man.” Quoth he, “Say on;” and she said, “What are the arrows of the Faith?” Answered he, “They number ten: (1) Testification, that is, religion; (2) Prayer, that is, the covenant; (3) Alms, that is, purification; (4) Fasting, that is, defensive armour; (5) Pilgrimage, that is, the Law; (6) Fighting for the Faith, that is, a general duty; (7) Bidding to beneficence and (8) Forbidding from frowardness, both of which are a man’s honour; (9) Commune,1 that is, sociableness of the Faithful; and (10) Seeking knowledge, that is, the praiseworthy path.” She rejoined, “Thou hast replied aright and now remaineth but one question, ‘What be the roots or fundamentals of Al–Islam?’” He said “They are four: sincerity of belief, truth of intent, observance of the lawful limit and keeping the covenant.” Then said she, “I have one more question to ask thee, which if thou answer, it is well; else, I will take thy clothes.” Quoth he, “Speak, O damsel;” and she said, “What are the branches or superstructure of Al–Islam?” But he was silent awhile and made no reply: so she cried “Doff thy clothes and I will expound them to thee.” Quoth the Caliph “Expound them, and I will make him put off his clothes for thee.” She said, “There are two-and-twenty branches: (1) holding fast to the Book of Allah the Most Highest; (2) taking example by His Apostle (whom Allah bless and preserve!); (3) abstaining from evil doing; (4) eating what is lawful and (5) avoiding what is unlawful; (6) restitution of things wrongfully taken; (7) repentance; (8) knowledge of the Law; (9) love of the Friend,2 (10) and of the followers of the true Revelation; (11) belief in the apostles of Al–Islam; (12) fear of apostacy; (13) preparation for departing this life; (14) force of conviction; (15) mercy on all possible occasions; (16) strength in time of weakness; (17) patience under trials; (18) knowledge of Allah Almighty and (19) of what His Prophet hath made known to us; (20) thwarting Iblis the accursed; (21) striving earnestly against the lusts of the soul and warring them down, and (22) devotion to the one God.” Now when the Commander of the Faithful heard her words, he bade the professor put off his clothes and hooded turband; and so did that doctor and went forth, beaten and confounded, from the Caliph’s presence. Thereupon another man stood up and said to her, “O damsel, hear a few questions from me.” Quoth she, “Say on;’ and he asked, “What are the conditions of purchase by advance?” whereto she answered, “That the price be fixed, the kind be fixed and the period of delivery be fixed and known.” Q “What are the Koranic and the traditional canons of eating?” “The confession that Allah Almighty provideth the eater and giveth him meat and drink, with thanksgiving to Him therefor.” Q “What is thanksgiving?” “The use by the creature of that which the Creator vouchsafeth to him, according as it was created for the creature.” Q “What are the traditional canons of eating?” “The Bismillah3 and washing both hands; sitting on the left of the hind part; eating with three fingers, and eating of that which hath been duly masticated.4” Q “What are good manners in eating?” “Taking small mouthfuls and looking little at one’s table-companion.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Jamá‘ah,” which in theology means the Greek {Greek text}, our “Church,” the congregation of the Faithful under a lawful head. Hence the Sunnis call themselves “People of the Sunnat and Jamá‘at.” In the text it is explained as “Ulfat” or intimacy.
2 Arab. “Al–Khalíl,” i.e. of Allah=Abraham. Mohammed, following Jewish tradition, made Abraham rank second amongst the Prophets, inferior only to himself and superior to Hazrat Isa=Jesus. I have noted that Ishmael the elder son succeeded his father. He married Da’alah bint Muzáz bin Omar, a Jurhamite, and his progeny abandoning Hebrew began to speak Arabic (ta’arraba); hence called Muta’arribah or Arabised Arabs. (Pilgrimage iii. 190.) He died at Meccah and was buried with his mother in the space North of the Ka’abah called Al–Hijr which our writers continue to confuse with the city Al–Hijr. (Ibid. 165–66.)
3 This ejaculation, “In the name of Allah” is, I have noted, equivalent to “saying grace.” If neglected it is a sin and entails a curse.
4 The ceremonious posture is sitting upon the shin-bones, not tailor-fashion; and “bolting food” is a sign of boorishness.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel had answered concerning good manners in eating, the doctor who was trying her, rejoined, “Thou hast replied aright. Now tell me what are the stays of the heart and their supports?”1 “The stays and supports both number three: (1) holding fast to the Faith, the support whereof is the shunning of infidelity; (2) holding fast to the Traditional Law, and its support the shunning of innovation; and (3) holding fast to obedience, and its support the shunning of disobedience.” Q “What are the conditions of Wuzu?” “(1) being a Moslem; (2) discernment of good and evil; (3) purity of the water, and (4) absence of material or religious impediments.” Q “What is belief?” “It is divided into nine parts: (1) belief in the One worshipped; (2) belief in the condition of slavery of the worshipper; (3) belief in the personality of the Deity; (4) belief in the Two Handfuls;2 (5) belief in Providence which allotteth to man his lot; (6) belief in the Abrogating and (7) in the Abrogated; (8) belief in Allah, His angels and apostles; and (9) in fore-ordained Fate, general and individual, its good and ill, its sweet and bitter.” Q “What three things do away other three?” “It is told of Sufyán al-Saurí3 that he said, ‘Three things do away with other three. Making light of the pious doth away the future life; making light of Kings doth away this life; and, making light of expenditure doth away wealth.’” Q “What are the keys of the heavens, and how many gates have they.?” “Quoth Almighty Allah, ‘And the heaven shall be opened and be full of portals;’4 and quoth he whom Allah bless and preserve!, ‘None knoweth the number of the gates of heavens, save He who created the heavens, and there is no son of Adam but hath two gates allotted to him in the heavens, one whereby his daily bread descendeth and another wherethrough his works ascend. The first gate is not closed, save when his term of life cometh to an end, nor the gate of works, good and evil, till his soul ascend for judgment.’” Q “Tell me of a thing and a half thing and a no-thing.” “The thing is the Moslem; the half thing the hypocrite,5 and the no-thing the miscreant.” Q “Tell me of various kinds of hearts.” “There is the whole heart, the sick heart, the contrite heart, the vowed heart and the enlightened heart. Now the whole heart is that of Abraham, the Friend of Allah; the sick heart is that of the Unbeliever in Al–Islam; the contrite heart is that of the pious who fear the Lord; the vowed heart is that of our Lord Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!) and the illuminated heart is that of his followers. Furthermore, the hearts of learned Olema are of three kinds, the heart which is in love with this world; the heart which loveth the next world, and the heart which loveth its Lord; and it is said that hearts are three, the suspended, that of the infidel; the non-existent, that of the hypocrite; and the constant, that of the True-believer. Moreover, it is said that the firm heart is of three kinds, viz., the heart dilated with light and faith, the heart wounded with fear of estrangement, and the heart which feareth to be forsaken of its Supreme Friend.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zidd,” the word is a fair specimen of Arabic ambiguity meaning primarily opposite or contrary (as virtue to vice), secondarily an enemy or a friend (as being opposite to an enemy).
2 “The whole earth (shall be) but His handful on the Resurrection day and in His right hand shall the Heaven be rolled up (or folded together).”-Koran xxxix. 67.
3 See Night lxxxi.
4 Koran lxxviii. 19.
5 Arab. “Al–Munáfik,” technically meaning one who outwardly professes Al–Islam while inwardly hating it. Thus the word is by no means synonymous with our “hypocrite,” hypocrisy being the homage vice pays to virtue; a homage, I may observe, nowhere rendered more fulsomely than among the so-called Anglo–Saxon race.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the second doctor declared. “Thou hast said well,” quoth she to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, he hath questioned me, till he is weary, and now I will ask of him two questions. If he answer them both, it is well; and if not, I will take his clothes and he shall wend in peace.” Quoth the doctor, “Ask me what thou wilt,” and she said, “What sayest thou religion is?” Answered he, “Religion is confession of Faith with the tongue and conviction with the heart and correspondent action with the members. He (upon whom be blessings and peace!) hath said, ‘The believer is not perfect in belief, except he perfect himself in five qualities, namely: trust in Allah,1 committal of his affair to Allah, submission to the commands of Allah, acquiescence in the decrees of Allah; and that all he doth be done for sake of Allah; so is he of those who are acceptable to the Deity, and who give to Him and withhold for Him; and such man is perfect in belief.’” Then said she, “What is the Divine ordinance of ordinances and the ordinance which is the initiator of all ordinances and that of which all others stand in need and that which comprehendeth all others; and what is the traditional ordinance that entereth into the Koranic, and the prophetic practice whereby the Divine is completed?” But he was silent and made no reply; whereupon the Caliph bade her expound and ordered him to doff his clothes and give them to her. Said she, “O doctor, the Koranic ordinance of ordinances is the knowledge of Allah Almighty; that, which is the initiative of all others, is the testifying there is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God; that, of which all others have need, is the Wuzu-ablution; that, which compriseth all others, is the Ghusl-ablution from defilement2; the Traditional ordinance that entereth into the Koranic, is the separation of the fingers and the thick beard;3 and that, wherewith all Koranic ordinances are completed, is circumcision.”4 Therewith was made manifest the defeat of the doctor, who rose to his feet and said, “I call Allah to witness, O Commander of the Faithful, that this damsel is more learned than I in theology and what pertaineth to the Law.” So saying, he put off his clothes and went away ignominiously worsted. Then she turned to the rest of the learned men present and said, “O masters, which of you is the Koranist, the reader and reciter of the Koran, versed in the seven readings and in syntax and in lexicography?” Thereupon a professor arose and, seating himself before her, said “Hast thou read the Book of Almighty Allah and made thyself thoroughly acquainted with its signs, that is its verses, and its abrogating parts and abrogated portions, its unequivocal commands and its ambiguous; and the difference of its revelations, Meccan and Medinan? Dost thou understand its interpretation and hast thou studied it, according to the various traditions and origins?” “Yes,” answered she; and he said, “What then is the number of its chapters, how many are the decades and versets, how many words and how many letters and how many acts of prostration and how many prophets and how many chapters are Medinan and how many are Meccan and how many birds are mentioned in it?” Replied she, “O my lord, its chapters are an hundred and fourteen, whereof seventy were revealed at Meccah and forty-four at Al–Medinah; and it containeth six hundred and twenty-one decades; six thousand three hundred and thirty-six versets;5 seventy-nine thousand four hundred and thirty-nine words and three hundred and twenty-three thousand and six hundred and seventy letters; and to the reader thereof, for every letter, are given ten benefits. The acts of prostration it compriseth are fourteen.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Tawakkul alá ’llah”: in the imperative the phrase is vulgarly used=“Be off!”
2 i.e. ceremonial impurity which is sui generis, a very different thing from general dirtiness.
3 A thick beard is one which does not show the skin; otherwise the wearer is a “Kausaj;” in Pers. “Kúseh.” See vol. iii., 246.
4 Arab. “Al–Khutnah.” Nowhere commanded in the Koran and being only a practice of the Prophet, the rite is not indispensable for converts, especially the aged and the sick. Our ideas upon the subject are very hazy, for modern “niceness” allows a “Feast of the Circumcision,” but no discussion thereon. Moses (alias Osarsiph) borrowed the rite from the Egyptian hierophants who were all thus “purified”; the object being to counteract the over-sensibility of the “sixth sense” and to harden the glans against abrasions and infection by exposure to air and friction against the dress. Almost all African tribes practise it but the modes vary and some are exceedingly curious: I shall notice a peculiarly barbarous fashion called Al–Salkh (the flaying) still practised in the Arabian province Al–Asír. (Pilgrimage iii. 80.) There is a difference too between the Hebrew and the Moslem rite. The Jewish operator, after snipping off the foreskin, rips up the prepuce with his sharp thumb-nails so that the external cutis does not retract far from the internal; and the wound, when healed, shows a narrow ring of cicatrice. This ripping is not done by Moslems. They use a stick as a probe passed round between glans and prepuce to ascertain the extent of the frenum and that there is no abnormal adhesion. The foreskin is then drawn forward and fixed by the forceps, a fork of two bamboo splints, five or six inches long by a quarter thick, or in some cases an iron like our compasses. This is tied tightly over the foreskin so as to exclude about an inch and a half of the prepuce above and three quarters below. A single stroke of the razor drawn directly downwards removes the skin. The slight bleeding is stopped by burnt rags or ashes and healed with cerates, pledgets and fumigations. Thus Moslem circumcision does not prevent the skin retracting.
5 Of these 6336 versets only some 200 treat on law, civil and ceremonial, fiscal and political, devotional and ceremonial, canonical and ecclesiastical.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the professor of Koranic exegesis questioned the damsel, she continued, “As regards the Prophets named in the Book there be five-and-twenty, to wit, Adam, Noah,1 Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Lot, Elisha, Jonah, Salih,2 or Heber, Húd,3 Shua’yb or Jethro, 4 David, Solomon, Zú‘l-kafl or Joshua, Idrís, Elias, Yahyá or John the Baptist, Zacharias, Job, Moses, Aaron, Jesus and Mohammed,5 the peace of Allah and His blessing be on them all! Moreover, nine flying things are mentioned in the Koran, namely, the gnat, the bee, the fly, the ant, the hoopoe, the crow, the locust, the swallow and the bird of Jesus6 (on whom be peace!), to wit, the bat.” Q “Which is the most excellent chapter of the Koran?” “That of The Cow.7” Q “Which is the most magnificent verse?” “That of the Throne; it hath fifty words, bearing in each fifty blessings.” Q “What sign or verse hath in it nine signs or wonders?” “That in which quoth Allah Almighty, ‘Verily, in the creation of the Heaven and the Earth: and in the vicissitude of night, and day; and in the ship which saileth through the sea laden with what is profitable for mankind; and in the rain-water which God sendeth down from Heaven, quickening thereby the dead ground and replenishing the same with all sorts of cattle; and in the change of winds and in the clouds that are compelled to do service between the Heaven and the Earth;8 — are signs to people of understanding.’” Q “Which verse is the most just?” “That in which Allah saith, ‘Verily, Allah enjoineth justice and the doing of good, and the giving unto kindred what shall be necessary; and He forbiddeth wickedness and iniquity and oppression’”9 Q “Which is the most greedy?” “That in which quoth Allah, ‘Is it that every man of them greedeth to enter the Garden of Delight?’”10 Q “Which is the most hopeful?” “That in which quoth Almighty Allah, ‘Say: O my servants who have transgressed against your own souls, despair not of the mercy of Allah; seeing, that Allah forgiveth all sins; aye Gracious, Merciful is He.’”11 Q “By what school of intonation dost thou read?” “By that of the people of Paradise, to wit, the version of Náf’i.” Q “In which verse doth Allah make prophets lie?”12 “In that wherein He saith, ‘They (the brothers of Joseph) brought his inner garment stained with false blood.’”13 Q “In which doth He make unbelievers speak the truth?” “In that wherein He saith, ‘The Jews say, ‘The Christians are grounded on nothing,’ and the Christians say, ‘The Jews are grounded on nothing’; and yet they both read the Scriptures;’14 and, so saying, all say sooth.” Q “In which doth God speak in his own person?” “In that in which he saith, ‘I have not created Genii and men for any other end than that they should serve me.’”15 Q “In which verse do the angels speak?” “In that which saith, ‘But we celebrate Thy praise and extol Thy holiness.’”16 Q “What sayest thou of the formula:— I seek refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned?” “It is obligatory by commandment of Allah on all before reading the Koran, as appeareth by His saying, ‘When thou readest the Koran, seek refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned.’”17 Q “What signify the words ‘seeking refuge’18 and what are the variants of the formula?” “Some say, ‘I take refuge with Allah the All-hearing and All-knowing,’ and others, ‘With Allah the Strong;’ but the best is that whereof the Sublime Koran speaketh and the Traditions perpetuate. And he (whom Allah bless and keep!) was used to ejaculate, ‘I seek refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned.’ And quoth a Tradition, reported by Naf’i on the authority of his adopted father, ‘The apostle of Allah, was wont when he rose in the night to pray, to say aloud, ‘Allaho Akbar’; God is Most Great, with all Majesty! Praise be to Allah abundantly! Glory to Allah morn and even be!’ Then would he say, ‘I seek refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned and from the delusions of the Devils and their evil suggestions.’ And it is told of Ibn Abbas19 (of whom Allah accept!) that he said, ‘The first time Gabriel came down to the Prophet with revelation he taught him the ‘seeking refuge,’ saying, ‘O Mohammed, say, I seek refuge with Allah the All-hearing and All-knowing;’ then say, ‘In the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate!’ Read, in the name of thy Lord who created; — created man of blood-clots.”20 Now when the Koranist heard her words he marvelled at her expressions, her eloquence, her learning, her excellence, and said, “O damsel, what sayst thou of the verse ‘In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate’? Is it one of the verses of the Koran?” “Yes; it is a verset of ‘The Ant’21 occurring also at the head of the first and between every two following chapters; and there is much difference of opinion, respecting this, among the learned.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The learned young woman omitted Ukhnúkh=Enoch, because not in Koran; and if she denoted him by “Idrís,” the latter is much out of place.
2 Some say grandson of Shem. (Koran vii. 71.)
3 Koran vii. 63, etc.
4 Father-in-law of Moses. (Koran vii. 83.)
5 Who is the last and greatest of the twenty-five.
6 See Night ccccxxxviii.
7 Koran ii., whose 256th Ayah is the far-famed and sublime Throne-verse which begins “Allah! there is no god but He, the Living, the Eternal One, whom nor slumber nor sleep seizeth on!” The trivial name is taken from the last line, “His throne overstretcheth Heaven and Earth and to Him their preservation is no burden for He is the most Highest, the Supreme.” The lines are often repeated in prayers and engraved on agates, etc., as portable talismans.
8 Koran ii. 159.
9 Koran xvi. 92. The verset ends with, “He warneth you, so haply ye may be mindful.”
10 Koran lxx. 38.
11 Koran xxxix. 54.
12 The Sunnis hold that the “Anbiyá” (=prophets, or rather announcers of Allah’s judgments) were not sinless. But this dogma is branded as most irreverent and sinful by the Shi’ahs or Persian “followers of Ali,” who make capital out of this blasphemy and declare that if any prophet sinned he sinned only against himself.
13 Koran xii. 18.
14 Koran ii. 107.
15 Koran ii. 57. He (Allah) does not use the plurale majestatis.
16 Koran ii. 28.
17 Koran xvi. 100. Satan is stoned in the Miná or Muná basin (Night ccccxlii.) because he tempted Abraham to disobey the command of Allah by refusing to sacrifice Ishmael. (Pilgrimage iii. 248.)
18 It may also mean “have recourse to God.”
19 Abdallah ibn Abbas, before noticed, first cousin of Mohammed and the most learned of the Companions. See D’Herbelot.
20 Koran xcvi., “Blood-clots,” 1 and 2. “Read” may mean “peruse the revelation” (it was the first Koranic chapter communicated to Mohammed), or “recite, preach.”
21 Koran xxvii. 30. Mr. Rodwell (p.1) holds to the old idea that the “Basmalah” is of Jewish origin, taught to the Kuraysh by Omayyah, of Taif, the poet and Haníf (convert).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel had told the professor concerning the difference of opinion among the learned touching the “Basmalah,” he said, “Thou hast replied aright: now tell me why is not the formula written at the head of the chapter of Immunity1?”; and she answered, “When this chapter was revealed from on high for the dissolution of the alliance between the Prophet and the idolaters, He (whom Allah bless and preserve!) sent Ali2 ibn Abí Tálib (whose face Allah honour!) therewith, and he read the chapter to them, but did not read the Basmalah.”3 Q “What of the excellence of the formula and its blessing?” “It is told of the Prophet that he said, ‘Never is the Basmalah pronounced over aught, but there is a blessing in it;’ and it is reported, on authority of Him (whom Allah bless and preserve!) that the Lord of Glory swore by His glory that never should the Basmalah be pronounced over a sick person, but he should be healed of his sickness. Moreover, it is said that, when Allah created the empyrean, it was agitated with an exceeding agitation; but He wrote on it, ‘Bismillah’ and its agitation subsided. When the formula first descended from heaven to the Prophet, he said, ‘I am safe from three things, earthquake and metamorphosis and drowning; and indeed its boons are great and its blessings too many to enumerate. It is told of Allah’s Apostle that he said, ‘There will be brought on the Judgment-day a man with whom He shall reckon and finding no good deed to his account, shall order him to the Fire; but the man will cry, ‘O my God, Thou hast not dealt justly by me!’ Then shall Allah (to whom be honour and glory!) say, ‘How so?’ and the man shall answer, O Lord, for that Thou callest Thyself the Compassionating, the Compassionate, yet wilt Thou punish me with the Fire!’ And Allah (magnified be His Majesty!) shall reply, ‘I did indeed name myself the Compassionating, the Compassionate. Carry My servant to Paradise, of My mercy, for I am the most Merciful of the mercifuls!’” Q “What was the origin of the use of the Basmalah?” “When Allah sent down from Heaven the Koran, they wrote, ‘In Thy name, O my God!’; when Allah revealed the words, ‘Say: Call upon Allah, or call upon the Compassionating, what days ye pray, for hath He the most excellent names,’4 they wrote, ‘In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate; and, when He revealed the words, ‘Your God is one God, there is no God but He, the Compassionating, the Compassionate,’5 they wrote, ‘In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate!’” Now when the Koranist heard her reply, he hung down his head and said to himself, “This be a marvel of marvels! How hath this slave-girl expounded the origin of the Basmalah? But, by Allah, needs must I go a bout with her and haply defeat her.” So he asked, “Did Allah reveal the Koran all at once or at times manifold?” She answered, “Gabriel the Faithful (on whom be peace!) descended with it from the Lord of the Worlds upon His Prophet Mohammed, Prince of the Apostles and Seal of the Prophets, by detached versets: bidding and forbidding, covenanting and comminating, and containing advices and instances in the course of twenty years as occasion called for it.” Q “Which chapter was first revealed?” “According to Ibn Abbas, that entituled ‘Congealed Blood’:6 and, according to Jábir bin Abdillah, 7 that called ‘The Covered’ which preceded all others.8” Q “Which verset was the last revealed?” “That of ‘Usury’,9 and it is also said, the verse, ‘When there cometh Allah’s succour and victory.’”10 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Koran ix.: this was the last chapter revealed and the only one revealed entire except verse 110.
2 Ali was despatched from Al–Medinah to Meccah by the Prophet on his own slit-eared camel to promulgate this chapter; and meeting the assembly at Al-‘Akabah he also acquainted them with four things; (1) No Infidel may approach the Meccah temple; (2) naked men must no longer circut the Ka’abah; (3) only Moslems enter Paradise, and (4) public faith must be kept.
3 Dictionaries give the word “Basmalah” (=saying Bismillah); but the common pronunciation is “Bismalah.”
4 Koran xvii. 110, a passage revealed because the Infidels, hearing Mohammed calling upon The Compassionate, imagined that Al–Rahmán was other deity but Allah. The “names” have two grand divisions, Asmá Jalálí, the fiery or terrible attributes, and the Asmá Jamálí (airy, watery, earthy or) amiable. Together they form the Asmá al-Husna or glorious attributes, and do not include the Ism al-A’azam, the ineffable name which is known only to a few.
5 Koran ii. 158.
6 Koran xcvi. before noticed.
7 A man of Al–Medinah, one of the first of Mohammed’s disciples.
8 Koran lxxiv. 1, etc., supposed to have been addressed by Gabriel to Mohammed when in the cave of Hira or Jabal Núr. He returned to his wife Khadijah in sore terror at the vision of one sitting on a throne between heaven and earth, and bade her cover him up. Whereupon the Archangel descended with this text, supposed to be the first revealed. Mr. Rodwell (p. 3) renders it, “O thou enwrapped in thy mantle!” and makes it No. ii. after a Fatrah or silent interval of six months to three years.
9 There are several versets on this subject (chapts. ii. and xxx.)
10 Koran cx. 1.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel told the Koranist which was the last verse he said, “Thou hast replied aright; now tell me the names of the Companions who collected the Koran, in the lifetime of the Apostle of Allah.” And she answered “They were four, Ubay ibn Ka’ab, Zayd ibn Sábit, Abú Obaydah ‘Aamir bin Jarráh, and Othmán bin Affán1 (Allah accept of them one and all!)” Q “Who are the readers, from whom the accepted reading of the Koran is taken?” “They number four, Abdallah bin Mas’úd, Ubay bin Ka’ab, Ma’az bin Jabal and Sálim bin Abdillah.” Q “What sayest thou of the words of the Most High, ‘That which is sacrificed to stones’”?2 “The stones are idols, which are set up and worshipped, instead of Allah the Most High, and from this we seek refuge with Allah.” Q “What sayest thou of the words of the Most High ‘Thou knowest what is in my soul, and I know not what is in Thy soul’”?3 “They mean, ‘Thou knowest the truth of me and what is in me, and I know not what is in Thee;’ and the proof of this are His words,4 ‘Thou art He who wottest the hidden things’; and it is said, also, ‘Thou knowest my essence, but I know not Thine essence.’” Q “What sayst thou of the words of the Most High, ‘O true believers, forbid not yourselves the good things which Allah hath allowed you?’”5 “My Shaykh (on whom Allah have mercy!) told me that the Companion Al–Zahhák related: ‘There was a people of the True-believers who said, ‘We will dock our members masculine and don sackcloth;’ whereupon this verse was revealed. But Al–Kutádah declareth that it was revealed on account of sundry Companions of the Apostle of Allah, namely, Ali ibn Abí Tálib and Othmán bin Musa’ab and others, who said, ‘We will geld ourselves and don hair cloth and make us monks.’” Q “What sayest thou of the words of the Most Highest, ‘And Allah took Abraham for His friend’”?6 “The friend of Allah is the needy, the poor, and (according to another saying) he is the lover, he who is detached from the world in the love of Allah Almighty and in whose attachment there is no falling away.” Now when the Koranist7 saw her pass on in speech with the passage of the clouds and that she stayed not in reply, he rose to his feet and said, “I take Allah to witness, O Commander of the Faithful, that this damsel is more learned than I in Koranic exegesis and what pertaineth thereto.” Then said she, “I will ask thee one question, which if thou answer it is well; but if thou answer not, I will strip off thy clothes.” Quoth the Commander of the Faithful, “Ask on,” and she enquired, “Which verset of the Koran hath in it three-and-twenty Káfs, which sixteen Míms, which an hundred and forty ‘Ayns8 and which section9 lacketh the formula, ‘To Whom belong glory and glorification and majesty10?’” The Koranist could not reply, and she said to him, “Put off thy clothes.” So he doffed them, and she continued, “O Commander of the Faithful, the verset of the sixteen Mims is in the chapter Húd and is the saying of the Most High, ‘It was said, O Noah, go down in peace from us, and blessing upon thee!’11 that of the three-and-twenty Kafs is the verse called of the Faith, in the chapter of The Cow; that of the hundred and forty Ayns is in the chapter of Al-A’aráf,12 where the Lord saith, ‘And Moses chose seventy men of his tribe to attend our appointed time;13 to each man a pair of eyes.’14 And the lesson, which lacketh the formula, ‘To Whom be glory and glorification,’ is that which comprises the chapters, The Hour draweth nigh and the Moon shall be cloven in twain15; The Compassionate and The Event.”16 Thereupon the professor departed in confusion. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The third Caliph; the “Writer of the Koran.”
2 Koran, v. 4. Sale translates “idols.” Mr. Rodwell, “On the blocks (or shafts) of Stone,” rude altars set by the pagan Arabs before their dwellings.
3 Koran, v. 116. The words are put into the mouth of Jesus.
4 The end of the same verse.
5 Koran, v. 89. Supposed to have been revealed when certain Moslems purposed to practise Christian asceticism, fasting, watching, abstaining from women and sleeping on hard beds. I have said Mohammed would have “no monkery in Al–Islam,” but human nature willed otherwise. Mr. Rodwell prefers “Interdict the healthful viands.”
6 Koran, iv. 124.
7 Arab. “Mukri.” “Kári” is one who reads the Koran to pupils; the Mukri corrects them. “With the passage of the clouds” = without a moment’s hesitation.
8 The twenty-first, twenty-fourth and eighteenth Arabic letters.
9 Arab. “Hizb.” The Koran is divided into sixty portions, answering to “Lessons” for convenience of public worship.
10 Arab. “Jalálah,”=saying Jalla Jalálu-hu=magnified be His Majesty!, or glorified be His Glory.
11 Koran, xi. 50.
12 The partition-wall between Heaven and Hell which others call Al-‘Urf (in the sing. from the verb meaning he separated or parted). The Jews borrowed from the Guebres the idea of a partition between Heaven and Hell and made it so thin that the blessed and damned can speak together. There is much dispute about the population of Al-A’aráf, the general idea being that they are men who do not deserve reward in Heaven or punishment in Hell. But it is not a “Purgatory” or place of expiating sins.
13 Koran, vii. 154.
14 A play on the word ayn, which means “eye” or the eighteenth letter which in olden times had the form of a circle.
15 From misreading these words comes the absurd popular belief of the moon passing up and down Mohammed’s sleeves. George B. Airy (The Athenæum, Nov.29, 1884) justly objects to Sale’s translation “The hour of judgment approacheth” and translates “The moon hath been dichotomised” a well-known astronomical term when the light portion of the moon is defined in a strait line: in other words when it is really a half-moon at the first and third quarters of each lunation. Others understand, The moon shall be split on the Last Day, the preterite for the future in prophetic style. “Koran Moslems” of course understand it literally.
16 Chapters liv., lv. and lvi.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel defeated the Koranist and took off his clothes and sent him away confused, then came forward the skilled physician and said to her, “We are free of theology and come now to physiology. Tell me, therefore, how is man made; how many veins, bones and vertebrae are there in his body; which is the first and chief vein and why Adam was named Adam?” She replied, “Adam was called Adam, because of his udmah, that is, the wheaten colour of his complexion and also (it is said) because he was created of the adim of the earth, that is to say, of the surface-soil. His breast was made of the earth of the Ka’abah, his head of earth from the East and his legs of earth from the West. There were created for him seven doors in his head, viz., the eyes, the ears, the nostrils and the mouth, and two passages, before and behind. The eyes were made the seat of the sight-sense, the ears the seat of the hearing-sense, the nostrils the seat of the smell-sense, the mouth the seat of the taste-sense and the tongue to utter what is in the heart of man.1 Now Adam was made of a compound of the four elements, which be water, earth, fire and air. The yellow bile is the humour of fire, being hot-dry; the black bile that of earth, being cold-dry; the phlegm that of water, being cold-moist, and the blood that of air, being hot-moist.2 There were made in man three hundred and sixty veins, two hundred and forty-nine bones, and three souls3 or spirits, the animal, the rational and the natural, to each of which is allotted its proper function. Moreover, Allah made him a heart and spleen and lungs and six intestines and a liver and two kidneys and buttocks and brain and bones and skin and five senses; hearing, seeing, smell, taste, touch. The heart He set on the left side of the breast and made the stomach the guide and governor thereof. He appointed the lungs for a fan to the heart and stablished the liver on the right side, opposite thereto. Moreover, He made, besides this, the diaphragm and the viscera and set up the bones of the breast and latticed them with the ribs.” Q “How many ventricles are there in a man’s head?” “Three, which contain five faculties, styled the intrinsic senses, to wit, common sense, imagination, the thinking faculty, perception and memory.” Q “Describe to me the configuration of the bones.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the physicist said to her, “Describe to me the configuration of the bones,” she replied, “Man’s frame consists of two hundred and forty bones, which are divided into three parts, the head, the trunk and the extremities. The head is divided into calvarium and face. The skull is constructed of eight bones, and to it are attached the four osselets of the ear. The face is furnished with an upper jaw of eleven bones and a lower jaw of one; and to these are added the teeth two-and-thirty in number, and the os hyoides.1 The trunk is divided into spinal column, breast and basin. The spinal column is made up of four-and-twenty bones, called Fikár or vertebræ; the breast, of the breastbone and the ribs, which are four-and-twenty in number, twelve on each side; and the basin of the hips, the sacrum2 and os coccygis. The extremities divided into upper and lower, arms and legs. The arms are again divided: firstly into shoulder, comprising shoulder blades and collar bone; secondly into the upper arm which is one bone; thirdly into fore-arm, composed of two bones, the radius and the ulna; and fourthly into the hand, consisting of the wrist, the metacarpus of five and the fingers, which number five, of three bones each, called the phalanges, except the thumb, which hath but two. The lower extremities are divided: firstly into thigh, which is one bone; secondly into leg, composed of three bones, the tibia, the fibula and the patella; and thirdly into the foot, divided, like the hand, into tarsus, metatarsus and toes; and is composed of seven bones, ranged in two rows, two in one and five in the other; and the metatarsus is composed of five bones and the toes number five, each of three phalanges except the big toe which hath only two.” Q “Which is the root of the veins?” “The aorta, from which they ramify, and they are many, none knoweth the tale of them save He who created them; but I repeat, it is said that they number three hundred and sixty.3 Moreover, Allah hath appointed the tongue as interpreter for the thought, the eyes to serve as lanterns, the nostrils to smell with, and the hands for prehensors. The liver is the seat of pity, the spleen of laughter4 and the kidneys of craft; the lungs are ventilators, the stomach the store-house, and the heart the prop and pillar of the body. When the heart is sound, the whole body is sound, and when the heart is corrupt, the whole body is corrupt.” Q “What are the outward signs and symptoms evidencing disease in the members of the body, both external and internal?” “A physician, who is a man of understanding, looketh into the state of the body and is guided by the feel of the hands,5 according as they are firm or flabby, hot or cool, moist or dry. Internal disorders are also indicated by external symptoms, such as yellowness of the white of the eyes, which denoteth jaundice, and bending of the back, which denoteth disease of the lungs.” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al-lámi”=the l-shaped, curved, forked.
2 Arab. “Usus,” our os sacrum because, being incorruptible, the body will be built up thereon for Resurrection-time. Hence Hudibras sings (iii. 2),
“The learned Rabbis of the Jews
Write there’s a bone which they call leuz,
I’ the rump of man, etc.”
It is the Heb. “Uz,” whence older scholars derived os. Sale (sect. iv.) called it “El Ajb, os coccygis or rump-bone.”
3 Arab physiologists had difficulties in procuring “subjects”; and usually practised dissection on the simiads. Their illustrated books are droll; the figures have been copied and recopied till they have lost all resemblance to the originals.
4 The liver and spleen are held to be congealed blood. Hence the couplet,
“We are allowed two carrions (i.e. with throats uncut) and two bloods,
The fish and the locust, the liver and the spleen.”
(Pilgrimage iii. 92.)
5 This is perfectly true and yet little known to the general.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel had described to the doctor the outer signs and symptoms quoth he, “Thou hast replied aright! now what are the internal symptoms of disease?” “The science of the diagnosis of disease by internal symptoms is founded upon six canons: (1) the patient’s actions; (2) what is evacuated from his body; (3) the nature of the pain; and (4) the site thereof; (5) swelling; and (6) the effluvia given off his person.” Q “How cometh hurt to the head?” “By the ingestion of food upon food, before the first be digested, and by fullness upon fullness; this it is that wasteth peoples. He who would live long, let him be early with the morning-meal and not late with the evening-meal; let him be sparing of commerce with women and chary of such depletory measures as cupping and blood-letting; and let him make of his belly three parts, one for food, one for drink and the third for air; for that a man’s intestines are eighteen spans in length and it befitteth that he appoint six for meat, six for drink, and six for breath. If he walk, let him go gently; it will be wholesomer for him and better for his body and more in accordance with the saying of the Almighty, ‘Walk not proudly on the earth.’”1 Q “What are the symptoms of yellow bile and what is to be feared therefrom?” “The symptoms are sallow complexion and bitter taste in the mouth with dryness; failure of the appetite, venereal and other, and rapid pulse; and the patient hath to fear high fever and delirium and eruptions and jaundice and tumour and ulcers of the bowels and excessive thirst.” Q “What are the symptoms of black bile and what hath the patient to fear from it, an it get the mastery of the body?” “The symptoms are false appetite and great mental disquiet and cark and care; and it behoveth that it be evacuated, else it will generate melancholia2 and leprosy and cancer and disease of the spleen and ulceration of the bowels.” Q “Into how many branches is the art of medicine divided?” “Into two: the art of diagnosing diseases, and that of restoring the diseased body to health.” Q “When is the drinking of medicine more efficacious than otherwhen?” “When the sap runs in the wood and the grape thickens in the cluster and the two auspicious planets, Jupiter and Venus, are in the ascendant; then setteth in the proper season for drinking of drugs and doing away of disease.” Q “What time is it, when, if a man drink water from a new vessel, the drink is sweeter and lighter or more digestible to him than at another time, and there ascendeth to him a pleasant fragrance and a penetrating?” “When he waiteth awhile after eating, as quoth the poet,
‘Drink not upon thy food in haste but wait awhile;
Else thou with halter shalt thy frame to sickness lead:
And patient bear a little thirst from food, then drink;
And thus, O brother, haply thou shalt win thy need.3’”
Q “What food is it that giveth not rise to ailments?” “That which is not eaten but after hunger, and when it is eaten, the ribs are not filled with it, even as saith Jálínús or Galen the physician, ‘Whoso will take in food, let him go slowly and he shall not go wrongly.’ And to conclude with His saying (on whom be blessing and peace!), ‘The stomach is the house of disease, and diet is the head of healing; for the origin of all sickness is indigestion, that is to say, corruption of the meat’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Koran xvii. 39.
2 Arab. “Al-malikhulíya,” proving that the Greeks then pronounced the penultimate vowel according to the acute accent–ía; not as we slur it over. In old Hebrew we have the transliteration of four Greek words; in the languages of Hindostan many scores including names of places; and in Latin and Arabic as many hundreds. By a scholar-like comparison of these remains we should find little difficulty in establishing the true Greek pronunciation since the days of Alexander the Great; and we shall prove that it was pronounced according to accent and emphatically not quantity. In the next century I presume English boys will be taught to pronounce Greek as the Greeks do.
3 Educated Arabs can quote many a verse bearing upon domestic medicine and reminding us of the lines bequeathed to Europe by the School of Salerno. Such e.g. are;
“After the noon-meal, sleep, although for moments twain;
After the night-meal, walk, though but two steps be ta’en;
And after swiving stale, though but two drops thou drain.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel said to the doctor, “‘The stomach is the house of disease and diet is the head of healing; for the origin of all sickness is indigestion, that is to say, corruption of the meat in the stomach;’” he rejoined, “Thou hast replied aright! what sayest thou of the Hammam?” “Let not the full man enter it. Quoth the Prophet, ‘The bath is the blessing of the house, for that it cleanseth the body and calleth to mind the Fire.’” Q “What Hammams are best for bathing in?” “Those whose waters are sweet and whose space is ample and which are kept well aired; their atmosphere representing the four seasons — autumn and summer and winter and spring.” Q “What kind of food is the most profitable?” “That which women make and which hath not cost overmuch trouble and which is readily digested. The most excellent of food is brewis1 or bread sopped in broth; according to the saying of the Prophet, ‘Brewis excelleth other food, even as Ayishah excelleth other women.’” Q “What kind of kitchen, or seasoning, is most profitable?” “‘Flesh meat’ (quoth the Prophet) ‘is the most excellent of kitchen; for that it is the delight of this world and the next world.’” Q “What kind of meat is the most profitable?” “Mutton; but jerked meat is to be avoided, for there is no profit in it.” Q “What of fruits?” “Eat them in their prime and quit them when their season is past.” Q “What sayest thou of drinking water?” “Drink it not in large quantities nor swallow it by gulps, or it will give thee head-ache and cause divers kinds of harm; neither drink it immediately after leaving the Hammam nor after carnal copulation or eating (except it be after the lapse of fifteen minutes for a young man and forty for an old man), nor after waking from sleep.” Q “What of drinking fermented liquors?” “Doth not the prohibition suffice thee in the Book of Almighty Allah, where He saith, ‘Verily, wine and lots and images, and the divining arrows are an abomination, of Satan’s work; therefore avoid them, that ye may prosper’?2 And again, ‘They will ask thee concerning wine and lots’: Answer, ‘In both there is great sin and also some things of use unto men: but their sinfulness is greater than their use.’3 Hence quoth the poet,
‘O bibber of liquor, art not ashamed
To drink what Allah forbade thee drain?
Put it far from thee and approach it not;
It holds what Allah forbade as bane.’
And quoth another to the same purport,
‘I drank the sin till my reason fled:
Ill drink that reason to loss misled!’
As for the advantages that be therein, it disperseth stone and gravel from the kidneys and strengtheneth the viscera and banisheth care, and moveth to generosity and preserveth health and digestion; it conserveth the body, expelleth disease from the joints, purifieth the frame of corrupt humours, engendereth cheerfulness, gladdeneth the heart of man and keepeth up the natural heat: it contracteth the bladder, enforceth the liver and removeth obstructions, reddeneth the cheeks, cleareth away maggots from the brain and deferreth grey hairs. In short, had not Allah (to whom be honour and glory!) forbidden it,4 there were not on the face of the earth aught fit to stand in its stead. As for gambling by lots, it is a game of hazard such as diceing, not of skill.” Q “What wine is best?” “That which is pressed from white grapes and kept eighty days or more after fermentation: it resembleth not water and indeed there is nothing on the surface of the earth like unto it.” Q “What sayest thou of cupping?” “It is for him who is over full of blood and who hath no defect therein; and whoso would be cupped, let it be during the wane of the moon, on a day without cloud, wind or rain and on the seventeenth of the month. If it fall on a Tuesday, it will be the more efficacious, and nothing is more salutary for the brain and eyes and for clearing the intellect than cupping.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sarídah” (Tharídah), also called “ghaut”=crumbled bread and hashed meat in broth; or bread, milk and meat. The Sarídah of Ghassán, cooked with eggs and marrow, was held a dainty dish: hence the Prophet’s dictum.
2 Koran v. 92. “Lots”=games of chance and “images”=statues.
3 Koran ii. 216. The word “Maysar” which I have rendered “gambling” or gaming (for such is the modern application of the word), originally meant what St. Jerome calls and explains thereby the verse (Ezek. xxi. 22), “The King held in his hand the lot of Jerusalem” i.e. the arrow whereon the city-name was written. The Arabs use it for casting lots with ten azlam or headless arrows (for dice) three being blanks and the rest notched from one to seven. They were thrown by a “Zárib” or punter and the stake was generally a camel. Amongst so excitable a people as the Arabs, this game caused quarrels and bloodshed, hence its prohibition: and the theologians, who everywhere and at all times delight in burdening human nature, have extended the command, which is rather admonitory than prohibitive, to all games of chance. Tarafah is supposed to allude to this practice in his Mu’allakah.
4 Liberal Moslems observe that the Koranic prohibition is not absolute, with threat of Hell for infraction. Yet Mohammed doubtless forbade all inebriatives and the occasion of his so doing is well known. (Pilgrimage ii. 322.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel enumerated the benefits of cupping, quoth the doctor, “What is the best time for cupping?” “One should be cupped ‘on the spittle,’ that is, in the morning before eating, for this fortifieth the wit and the memory. It is reported of the Prophet that, when anyone complained to him of a pain in the head or legs, he would bid him be cupped and after cupping not eat salt food, fasting, for it engendereth scurvy; neither eat sour things as curded milk1 immediately after cupping.” Q “When is cupping to be avoided?” “On Sabbaths or Saturdays and Wednesdays; and let him who is cupped on these days blame none but himself. Moreover, one should not be cupped in very hot weather nor in very cold weather; and the best season for cupping is springtide.” Quoth the doctor, “Now tell me of carnal copulation.” Hereupon Tawaddud hung her head, for shame and confusion before the Caliph’s majesty; then said, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, it is not that I am at fault, but that I am ashamed; though, indeed, the answer is on the edge of my tongue.” Said the Caliph; “Speak, O damsel,” whereupon said she, “Copulation hath in it many and exceeding virtues and praiseworthy qualities, amongst which are, that it lighteneth a body full of black bile and calmeth the heat of love and induceth affection and dilateth the heart and dispelleth the sadness of solitude; and the excess of it is more harmful in summer and autumn than in spring and winter.” Q “What are its good effects?” “It banisheth trouble and disquiet, calmeth love and wrath and is good for ulcers, especially in a cold and dry humour; on the other hand excess of it weakeneth the sight and engendereth pains in the legs and head and back: and beware, beware of carnal connection with old women, for they are deadly. Quoth the Iman Ali2 (whose face Allah honour!), ‘Four things kill and ruin the body: entering the Hammam on a full stomach; eating salt food; copulation on a plethora of blood and lying with an ailing woman; for she will weaken thy strength and infect thy frame with sickness; and an old woman is deadly poison.’ And quoth one of them, ‘Beware of taking an old woman to wife, though she be richer in hoards than Kárún’”3 Q “What is the best copulation?” “If the woman be tender of years, comely of shape, fair of face, swelling of breast and of noble race, she will add to thee strength and health of body; and let her be even as saith a certain poet describing her,
‘Seeing thy looks wots she what thou desir’st,
By inspiration; wants nor word nor sign;
And, when thou dost behold her rarest grace,
The charms of every garden canst decline.’
Q “At what time is copulation good?” “If by night, after food digested and if by day, after the morning meal.” Q “What are the most excellent fruits?” “Pomegranate and citron.” Q “Which is the most excellent of vegetables?” “Endive.4” Q “Which of sweet-scented flowers?” “Rose and Violet.” Q “How is the seed of man secreted?” “There is in man a vein which feedeth all the other veins. Now water is collected from the three hundred and sixty veins and, in the form of red blood, entereth the left testicle, where it is decocted, by the heat of temperament inherent in the son of Adam, into a thick, white liquid, whose odour is as that of the palm-spathe.” Q “What flying thing is it that emitteth seed and menstruateth?” “The flitter-mouse,5 that is the bat.” Q “What is that which, when confined and shut out from the air liveth, and when let out to smell the air dieth?” “The fish.” Q “What serpent layeth eggs?” “The Su’ban or dragon.6” With this the physician waxed weary with much questioning, and held his peace, when Tawaddud said to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, he hath questioned me till he is tired out and now I will ask him one question, which if he answer not, I will take his clothes as lawful prize.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 I have noticed this soured milk in Pilgrimage i. 362.
2 He does not say the “Caliph” or successor of his uncle Mohammed.
3 The Jewish Korah (Numbers xvi.) fabled by the Koran (xxviii. 76), following a Talmudic tradition, to have been a man of immense wealth. The notion that lying with an old woman, after the menses have ceased, is unwholesome, dates from great antiquity; and the benefits of the reverse process were well known to good King David. The faces of children who sleep with their grandparents (a bad practice now waxing obsolete in England), of a young wife married to an old man and of a young man married to an old woman, show a peculiar wizened appearance, a look of age overlaying youth which cannot be mistaken.
4 Arab. “Hindibá”(=endubium): the modern term is Shakuríyah=chicorée. I believe it to be very hurtful to the eyes.
5 Arab. “Khuffásh” and “Watwát”: in Egypt a woman is called “Watwátíyah” when the hair of her privities has been removed by applying bats’ blood. I have often heard of this; but cannot understand how such an application can act depilatory.
6 Dictionaries render the word by “dragon, cockatrice.” The Badawin apply it to a variety of serpents mostly large and all considered venomous.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel said to the Commander of the Faithful, “Verily he hath questioned me till he is tired out, and now I will ask him one question, which if he answer not I will take his clothes as lawful prize,” the Caliph cried, “Ask on.” So quoth she to the physician, “What is that thing which resembleth the earth in roundness, whose resting-place and whose spine are hidden from men’s eyes; little of price and estimation; narrow of chest and shackled as to throat though it be nor runaway slave nor pestilent thief; thrust through and through, though not in fray, and wounded, though not in fight: time eateth its vigour and water wasteth it away; now it is beaten without blemish, and then made to serve without stint; united after separation; submissive, but not to him who caresseth it; pregnant without child in belly; drooping, yet not leaning on its side; becoming dirty yet purifying itself; cleaving to its fere, yet changing; copulating without a yard, wrestling without arms: resting and taking its ease; bitten, yet not crying out: now more complaisant than a cup-companion and then more troublesome than summer-heat; leaving its mate by night and embracing her by day and having its abode in the corners of the mansions of the noble?” The physician was silent awhile in perplexity and his colour changed and he bowed his head and made no reply; whereupon she said to him, “Ho, sir doctor, speak or doff thy dress.” At this, he rose and said, “O Commander of the Faithful, bear witness against me that this damsel is more learned than I in medicine and what else, and that I cannot cope with her.” And he put off his clothes and fled forth. Quoth the Caliph to Tawaddud, “Ree us thy riddle,” and she replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, it is the button and the button-loop.1”— Then she undertook the astronomers and said, “Let him of you who is an astronomer rise and come forward.” So the astronomer advanced and sat down before her; and, when she saw him, she laughed and said, “Art thou the astronomer, the mathematician, the scribe?” “Yes,” answered he. Quoth she, “Ask of what thou wilt; success resteth with Allah.” So he said, “Tell me of the sun and its rising and setting.” And she replied: “Know that the sun riseth from the shadows in the Eastern hemisphere and setteth in the shadows of the Western, and each hemisphere compriseth one hundred and eighty degrees. Quoth Allah Almighty, ‘I swear by the Lord of the East and of the West.’2 And again, ‘He it is who hath ordained the sun to shine by day, and the moon for a light by night; and hath appointed her station that ye might know the number of years and the computation of time.’3 The moon is Sultan of the night and the sun Sultan of the day, and they vie with each other in their courses and follow without overtaking each other. Quoth Almighty Allah, ‘It is not expedient that the sun overtake the moon in her course; neither doth the night outstrip the day, but each of these luminaries moveth in a peculiar orbit.’”4 Q “When the day cometh, what becometh of the night; and what of the day, when the night cometh?” “He causeth the night to enter in upon the day, and He causeth the day to enter in upon the night.”5 Q “Enumerate to me the mansions of the moon?”6 “They number eight-and-twenty, to wit, Sharatán, Butayn, Surayá, Dabarán, Hak’ah, Han’ah, Zirá‘a, Nasrah, Tarf, Jabhah, Zubrah, Sarfah, ‘Awwá, Simák, Ghafar, Zubání, Iklíl, Kalb, Shaulah, Na’am, Baldah, Sa’ad al-Zábih, Sa’ad al-Bul’a, Sa’ad al-Su’úd, Sa’ad al-Akhbiyah, Fargh the Former and Fargh the Latter; and Risháa. They are disposed in the order of the letters of the Abjad-hawwaz or older alphabet,7 according to their numerical power, and in them are secret virtues which none knoweth save Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and the stablished in science. They are divided among the twelve Signs of the Zodiac, two Mansions and a third of a Mansion to each Sign. Thus Sharatan, Butayn and one-third of Suráyá, belong to Aries, the other two-thirds of Suráyá, Dabaran and two-thirds of Hak’ah to Taurus, the other third of Hak’ah, Han’ah and Zira’a to Gemini; Nasrah, Tarf and a third of Jabhah to Cancer, the other two-thirds of Jabhah, Zubrah and two-thirds of Sarfah to Leo; the other third of Sarfah, ‘Awwá and Simák to Virgo; Ghafar, Zubáni and one-third of Iklíl to Libra; the other two-thirds of Iklil, Kalb and two-thirds of Shaulah to Scorpio; the other third of Shaulah, Na’áim and Baldah to Sagittarius; Sa’ad al-Zábih, Sa’ad al-Bul’a and one-third of Sa’ad al-Su’ud to Capricorn, the other two-thirds of Sa’ad al-Su’dd, Sa’ad al-Akhbiyah and two-thirds of Fargh the Former to Aquarius, the other third of Fargh the Former, Fargh the Latter and Risháa to Pisces.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zarr wa ‘urwah,” 1it.=handle. The button-hole, I have said, is a modern invention; Urwah is also applied to the loopshaped handle of the water-skin, for attachment of the Allákah or suspensory thong.
2 Koran lxx. 40; see also the chapter following, v. 16.
3 Koran x. 5; the “her” refers to the sun.
4 Koran xxxvi. 40.
5 Koran xxii. 60.
6 Arab. “Manázil:” these are the Hindu “Nakshatra”; extensively used in meteorology even by Europeans unconsciously: thus they will speak of the Elephantina-storm without knowing anything of the lunar mansion so called. The names in the text are successively Sharatán=two horns of the Ram; (2) the Ram’s belly; (3) the Pleiades; (4) Aldebaran; (5) three stars in Orion’s head; (6) ditto in Orion’s shoulder; (7) two stars above the Twins; (8) Lion’s nose and first summer station; (9) Lion’s eye; (1O) Lion’s forehead; (11) Lion’s mane; (12) Lion’s heart; (13) the Dog, two stars in Virgo; (14) Spica Virginis; (15) foot of Virgo; (16) horns of Scorpio; (17) the Crown; (18) heart of Scorpio; (19) tail of Scorpio; (2O) stars in Pegasus; (21) where no constellation appears; (22) the Slaughterer’s luck; (23) Glutton’s luck; (24) Luck of Lucks, stars in Aquarius; (25) Luck of Tents, stars in Aquarius; (26) the fore-lip or spout of Urn; (27) hind lip of Urn; and (28) in navel of Fish’s belly (Batn al-Hút); of these 28, to each of the four seasons 7 are allotted.
7 The Hebrew absey, still used by Moslems in chronograms. For mnemonic purposes the 28 letters are distributed into eight words of which the first and second are Abjad and Hawwaz. The last six letters in two words (Thakhiz and Zuzigh) are Arabian, unknown to the Jews and not found in Syriac.
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel enumerated the Mansions and distributed them into their Signs, the astronomer said, “Thou hast replied aright; now tell me of the planets and their natures, also of their sojourn in the Zodiacal Signs, their aspects, auspicious and sinister, their houses, ascendants and descendants. She answered, “The sitting is narrow for so large a matter, but I will say as much as I can. Now the planets number seven; which are, the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn. The Sun, hot-dry, sinister in conjunction, favourable in opposition, abideth thirty days in each Sign. The Moon, cold-moist and favourable of aspect, tarrieth in each Sign two days and a third of another day. Mercury is of a mixed nature, favourable in conjunction with the favourable, and sinister in conjunction with the sinister aspects, and abideth in each sign seventeen days and a half day. Venus, temperate and favourable, abideth in each sign five-and-twenty days. Mars is sinister and woneth in each sign ten months. Jupiter is auspicious and abideth in each sign a year. Saturn, cold-dry and sinister, tarrieth in each sign thirty months. The house of the Sun is Leo, her ascendant is Aries, and her descendant Aquarius. The Moon’s house is Cancer, his ascendant Taurus, his descendant Scorpio and his sinister aspect Capricorn. Saturn’s house is Capricorn–Aquarius, his ascendant Libra, his descendant Aries and his sinister aspects Cancer and Leo. Jupiter’s house is Pisces–Sagittarius, his ascendant Cancer, his descendant Capricorn and his sinister aspects Gemini and Leo. Venus’s house is Taurus, her ascendant Pisces, her descendant Libra, and her sinister aspects Aries and Scorpio. Mercury’s house is Gemini–Virgo, his ascendant Virgo, his descendant Pisces, and his sinister aspect Taurus. Mars’ house is Aries–Scorpio, his ascendant Capricorn, his descendant Cancer and his sinister aspect Libra.” Now when the astronomer saw her acuteness and comprehensive learning and heard her fair answers, he bethought him for a sleight to confound her before the Commander of the Faithful, and said to her, “O damsel, tell me, will rain fall this month?” At this she bowed her head and pondered so long, that the Caliph thought her at a loss for an answer and the astronomer said to her, “Why dost thou not speak?” Quoth she, “I will not speak except the Commander of the Faithful give me leave.” So the Caliph laughed and said, “How so?” Cried she “I would have thee give me a sword, that I may strike off his head, for he is an Infidel, an Agnostic, an Atheist.1” At this, loud laughed the Caliph and those about him laughed, and she continued “O astronomer, there are five things that none knoweth save Allah Almighty;” and she repeated the verset; “‘Aye! Allah! — with Him is the knowledge of the hour and He causeth the rain to descend at His own appointed time — and He knoweth what is in the wombs of females — but no soul knoweth what it shall have gotten on the morrow; neither wotteth any soul in what land it shall die: Verily Allah is knowing, informed of all.’”2 Quoth the astronomer, “Thou hast said well, and I, by Allah, thought only to try thee.” Rejoined she, “Know that the almanack-makers have certain signs and tokens, referring to the planets and constellations relative to the coming in of the year; and folk have learned something by experience.” Q “What be that?” “Each day hath a planet that ruleth it: so if the first day in the year fall on First Day (Sunday) that day is the Sun’s and this portendeth (though Allah alone is All-knowing!) oppression of kings and sultans and governors and much miasma and lack of rain; and that people will be in great tumult and the grain-crop will be good, except lentils, which will perish, and the vines will rot and flax will be dear and wheat cheap from the beginning of Túbah to the end of Barmahát.3 And, in this year there will be much fighting among kings, and there shall be great plenty of good in this year, but Allah is All-knowing!” Q “What if the first day fall on Second Day (Monday)?” “That day belongeth to the Moon and portendeth righteousness in administrators and officials and that it will be a year of much rain and grain-crops will be good, but linseed will decay and wheat will be cheap in the month Kiyáhk;4 also the plague will rage and the sheep and goats will die, grapes will be plentiful and honey scarce and cotton cheap; and Allah is omniscient!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zindík;” properly, one who believes in two gods (the old Persian dualism); in books an atheist, i.e. one who does not believe in a god or gods; and, popularly, a free-thinker who denies the existence of a Supreme Being, rejects revelation for the laws of Nature imprinted on the heart of man and for humanity in its widest sense. Hence he is accused of permitting incestuous marriages and other abominations. We should now call him (for want of something better) an Agnostic.
2 Koran xxxi. 34. The words may still be applied to meteorologists especially of the scientific school. Even the experienced (as the followers of the late Mathieu de la Drôme) reckon far more failures than successes. The Koranic passage enumerates five things known only to Allah; Judgment-day; rain; sex of child in womb; what shall happen to-morrow and where a man shall die.
3 The fifth and seventh months (January and March) of the Coptic year which, being solar, is still used by Arab and Egyptian meteorologists. Much information thereon will be found in the “Egyptian Calendar” by Mr. Mitchell, Alexandria, 1876. It bears the appropriate motto “Anni certus modus apud solos semper Egyptios fuit.” (Macrobius.) See also Lane M.E., chapt. ix.
4 Vulg. Kiyák; the fourth month, beginning 9th — 1Oth December. The first month is Tút, commencing 1Oth — 11th September.
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel ended her notice of Second Day the astronomer said to her “Now tell me what will occur if New Year’s day fall on Third Day (Tuesday).” She replied, “That is Mars’ day and portendeth death of great men and much destruction and deluge of blood and dearness of grain; lack of rain and scarcity of fish, which will anon be in excess and anon fail. Lentils and honey in this year will be cheap and linseed dear and only barley will thrive, to the exception of all other cereals: great will be the fighting among kings and death will be in the blood and there will be much mortality among asses.” Q “What if it fall on Fourth Day?” “That is Mercury’s day and portendeth great tumult among the folk and much enmity and, though rains be moderate, rotting of some of the green crops; also that there will be sore mortality among cattle and young children and much fighting by sea; that wheat will be dear from Barmúdah to Misra1 and other grains cheap; thunder and lightning will abound and honey will be dear, palm-trees will thrive and bear abundantly and flax and cotton will be plentiful, while radishes and onions will be dear; but Allah is All-knowing!” Q “What if it fall on Fifth Day?” “That is Jupiter’s day and portendeth equity in Wazirs and righteousness in Kazis and Fakirs and the Ministers of religion; and that good will be plentiful: rains and fruit and trees and grain will abound, and flax, cotton, honey, grapes and fish be cheap; and Allah is Omniscient!” Q “What if it fall on Meeting Day or Friday?” “That day appertaineth to Venus and portendeth oppression in the chiefs of the Jinn and talk of forgery and back-biting; there will be much dew; the autumn crops will be good in the land and there will be cheapness in one town and not in another: ungraciousness will be rife by land and sea; linseed will be dear, also wheat, in Hátúr, but cheap in Amshír; honey will be dear and grapes and water-melons will rot; and Allah is Omniscient!” Q “What if it fall on the Sabbath (Saturday)?” “That is Saturn’s day and portendeth the preferment of slaves and Greeks and those in whom there is no good, neither in their neighbourhood; there will be great drought and dearth; clouds will abound and death will be rife among the sons of Adam and woe to the people of Egypt and Syria from the oppression of the Sultan and failure of blessing upon the green crops and rotting of grain; and Allah is All-knowing!”2 Now with this, the astronomer hung his head very low, and she said to him, “O astronomer, I will ask thee one question, which if thou answer not, I will take thy clothes.” “Ask,” replied he. Quoth she, “Where is Saturn’s dwelling-place?”; and he answered, “In the seventh heaven.” Q “And that of Jupiter?” “In the sixth heaven.” Q “And that of Mars?” “In the fifth heaven.” Q “And that of the Sun?” “In the fourth heaven.” Q “And that of Venus?” “In the third heaven.” Q “And that of Mercury?” “In the second heaven.” Q “And that of the Moon?” “In the first heaven.” Quoth she, “Well answered; but I have one more question to ask thee;” and quoth he, “Ask!” Accordingly she said, “Now tell me concerning the stars, into how many parts are they divided.” But he was silent and answered nothing; and she cried to him, “Put off thy clothes.” So he doffed them and she took them; after which the Caliph said to her, “Tell us the answer to thy question.” She replied: “O Commander of the Faithful, the stars are divided into three parts, whereof one-third is hung in the sky of the earth,3 as it were lamps, to give light to the earth, and a part is used to shoot the demons withal, when they draw near by stealth to listen to the talk in heaven. Quoth Allah Almighty, ‘Verily, we have dight the sky of the earth with the adornment of the stars; and have appointed them for projectiles against every rebellious Satan.’4 And the third part is hung in air to illuminate the seas and give light to what is therein.” Quoth the astronomer, “I have one more question to ask, which if she answer, I will avow myself beaten.” “Say on,” answered she. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The 8th and 12th months partly corresponding with April and August: Hátúr is the 3rd (November) and AmshRr the 6th (February).
2 Moslems have been compelled to adopt infidel names for the months because Mohammed’s Koranic rejection of Nasy or intercalation makes their lunar months describe the whole circle of the seasons in a cycle of about thirty-three and a half years. Yet they have retained the terms which contain the original motive of the denomination. The first month is Muharram, the “Holy,” because war was forbidden; it was also known as Safar No. 1. The second Safar=“Emptiness,” because during the heats citizens left the towns and retired to Táif and other cool sites. Rabí‘a (first and second) alluded to the spring-pasturages; Jumádá (first and second) to the “hardening” of the dry ground and, according to some, to the solidification, freezing, of the water in the highlands. Rajab (No.7)=“worshipping,” especially by sacrifice, is also known as Al–Asamm the deaf; because being sacred, the rattle of arms was unheard. Sha’abán=“collecting,” dispersing, ruining, because the tribal wars recommenced: Ramazan (intensely hot) has been explained and Shawwál (No. 10) derives from Shaul (elevating) when the he-camels raise their tails in rut. Zú‘l-Ka’adah, the sedentary, is the rest time of the year, when fighting is forbidden and Zu’l-Hijjah explains itself as the pilgrimage-month.
3 The lowest of the seven.
4 Koran xxxvii. 5.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the astronomer said, “Now tell me what four contraries are based upon other four contraries?” Replied she, “The four qualities of Caloric and Frigoric, Humidity and Siccity; for of heat Allah created fire, whose nature is hot-dry; of dryness, earth, which is cold-dry; of cold, water which is cold-wet; of moisture, air, which is hot-wet. Moreover, He created twelve Signs of the Zodiac, Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius and Pisces; and appointed them of the four humours; three fiery, Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius; three earthly, Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn; three airy, Gemini, Libra and Aquarius; and three watery, Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces.” Hereupon the astronomer rose, and saying, “Bear witness against me that she is more learned than I,” away he went beaten. Then quoth the Caliph, “Where is the philosopher1?”; at which one rose hastily and came forward and said to Tawaddud, “What is Time and what be its limits, and its days, and what things bringeth it?” Replied she, “Time is a term applied to the hours of the night and day, which are but the measures of the courses of the sun and moon in their several heavens, even as Allah Almighty telleth us when he saith, ‘A sign to them also is the Night, from which we strip off the day, and lo! they are plunged in darkness, and the Sun runneth to her place of rest; this is the ordinance of the Sublime, the All-knowing.’”2 Q “How cometh unbelief to the son of Adam?” “It is reported of the Apostle (whom Allah bless and preserve!) that he said, ‘Unbelief in a man runneth as the blood runneth in his veins, when he revileth the world and Time and night and the Hour.’ And again, ‘Let none of you revile Time, for Time is God; neither revile the world, for she saith, ‘May Allah not aid him who revileth me!;’ neither revile the hour, for, ‘The Hour is surely coming, there is no doubt thereof’;3 neither revile the earth, for it is a portent, according to the saying of the Most High, ‘Out of the ground have we created you, and into the same will we cause you to return, and we will bring you forth yet thence another time.’”4 Q “What are the five that ate and drank, yet came not out of loins nor womb?” “Adam and Simeon5 and Salih’s she-camel 6 and Ishmael’s ram and the bird that Abu Bakr the Truth-teller saw in the cave.7” Q “Tell me of five that are in Paradise and are neither humans, Jinns nor angels?” “Jacob’s wolf and the Seven Sleepers’ dog and Esdras’s ass and Salih’s camel and Duldul the mule of the Prophet (upon whom be blessings and peace!).” Q “What man prayed a prayer neither on earth nor in heaven?” “Solomon, when he prayed on his carpet, borne by the wind.” Q “Ree me this riddle:— A man once looked at a handmaid during dawn-prayer, and she was unlawful to him; but, at noonday she became lawful to him: by mid-afternoon,, she was again unlawful, but at sundown, she was lawful to him: at supper time she was a third time unlawful, but by daybreak, she became once more lawful to him.” “This was a man who looked at another’s slave-girl in the morning, and she was then unlawful to him; but at midday he bought her, and she became lawful to him: at mid-afternoon he freed her, and she became unlawful to him; but at sundown he married her and she was again lawful to him. At nightfall he divorced her and she was then a third time unlawful to him; but, next morning at daybreak, he took her back, and she became once more lawful to him.” Q “Tell me what tomb went about with him that lay buried therein?” “Jonah’s whale, when it had swallowed him.” Q “What spot of lowland is it, upon which the sun shone once, but will never again shine till Judgment–Day?” “The bottom of the Red Sea, when Moses smote it with his staff, and the sea clave asunder in twelve places, according to the number of the tribes;8 then the sun shone on the bottom and will do so nevermore until Judgment–Day.” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Faylasúf,” an evident corruption from the Greek. Amongst the vulgar it denotes a sceptic, an atheist; much the same a “Frammásún” or Freemason. The curious reader will consult the Dabistan, vol. iii. chapt. xi. p. 138 et seq. “On the Religion of the Wise” (philosophi), and, Beaconsfield’s theft from Shaftesbury.
2 Koran xxxvi. 37–38.
3 Koran xxii. 7. The Hour i.e. of Judgment.
4 Koran xx. 58. The Midrasch Tanchumah on Exod. vii. gives a similar dialogue between Pharaoh and Moses. (Rodwell, in loco.)
5 Arab. “Sham’ún” or “Shim’ún,” usually applied to Simon Peter (as in Acts xv. 14). But the text alludes to Saint Simeon (Luke ii. 25–35). See Gospel of Infancy (ii. 8) and especially the Gospel of Nicodemus (xii. 3) which makes him a High–Priest.
6 Sálih the Patriarch’s she-camel, miraculously produced from the rock in order to convert the Thamúd-tribe. (Koran vii.)
7 When Abu Bakr was hiding with Mohammed in a cave on the Hill Al–Saur (Thaur or Thúr, Pilgrimage ii. 131) South of Meccah, which must not be confounded with the cave on Jabal Hirá now called Jabal Núr on the way to Arafat (Pilgrimage iii. 246), the fugitives were protected by a bird which built her nest at the entrance (according to another legend it was curtained by a spider’s web), whilst another bird (the crow of whom I shall presently speak) tried to betray them. The first bird is popularly supposed to have been a pigeon, and is referred to by Hudibras,
“Th’ apostles of this fierce religion
Like Mahomet, were ass and widgeon.”
The ass I presume alludes to the marvellous beast Al–Burák which the Greeks called from (Euthymius in Pocock, Spec. A.H. p.144) and which Indian Moslems picture with human face, ass’s ears, equine body and peacock’s wings and tail. The “widgeon” I presume to be a mistake or a misprint for pigeon.
8 The Arabs are not satisfied with the comparative moderation of the Hebrew miracle, and have added all manner of absurdities. (Pilgrimage ii. 288.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the philosopher then addressed the damsel saying, “What was the first skirt that trailed over the face of the earth?” She replied, “That of Hagar, out of shame before Sarah; and it became a custom among the Arabs.” Q “What is that which breatheth without life?” “Quoth Almighty Allah, ‘By the morning when it breatheth!’”1 Q “Ree me this riddle:— A number of pigeons came to a high tree and lighted, some on the tree and others under it. Said those on the tree to those on the ground, ‘If one of you come up to us, ye will be a third part of us all in number; and if one of us descend to you, we shall be like unto you in number,’ How many pigeons were there in all?” “Twelve: seven alighted on the tree and five beneath; and, if one go up, those above would be eight to four; and, if one go down, both would be six and Allah is all-knowing.”2 With this the philosopher put off his clothes and fled: whereupon the next contest took place, for she turned to the Olema present and said, “Which of you is the rhetorician that can discourse of all arts and sciences?” There came forward a sage hight Ibrahim bin Siyyár and said to her, “Think me not like the rest.” Quoth she, “It is the more assured to me that thou wilt be beaten, for that thou art a boaster; and Allah will help me to victory over thee, that I may strip thee of thy clothes. So, if thou sentest one to fetch thee wherewithal to cover thyself, ‘twould be well for thee.” Cried he, “By Allah, I will assuredly conquer thee and make thee a byword among the peoples, generation after generation!” Rejoined she, “Do penance in advance for thy broken oath.” Then he asked, “What five things did Allah create before he made man?”; and she answered, “Water and earth and light and darkness and the fruits of the earth.” Q “What did Allah create with the hand of omnipotence?” “The ‘Arsh, throne of God or the empyreal heaven and the tree Túbá3 and Adam and the garden of Eden; these Allah created with the hand of His omnipotence; but to all other created things He said, ‘Be,’— and they were.” Q “Who is thy father in Al–Islam?” “Mohammed, whom Allah bless and preserve!” Q “Who was the father in Al–Islam of Mohammed?” “Abraham, the Friend of God.” Q “What is the Faith of Al–Islam?” “The professing that there is no god but the God and that Mohammed is the apostle of God.” Q “What is thy first and thy last?” “My first is man’s seed in the shape of foul water and my last filthy carrion: the first of me is dust and the last of me is dust. Quoth the poet,
‘Of dust was I created, and man did I become,
In question ever ready and aye fluent in reply,
Then, I unto the dust return’d, became of it again,
For that, in very deed, of dust at first create was I.’”
He continued, “What thing was it, whose first state was wood and its last life?” “Moses’ staff,4 when he cast it on the valley-ground and it became, by permission of Allah, a writhing serpent.” Q “What is the meaning of the word of the Lord, ‘And I have other occasion for it?’”5 “He, Moses, was wont to plant his staff in the ground, and it would flower and fruit and shade him from the heat and from the cold. Moreover, it would carry him when he was weary, and whilst he slept, guard his sheep from lions and wild beasts.” Q “What woman was born of a man alone and what man of a woman alone?” “Eve of Adam and Jesus of Mary.6” Q “Tell me of the four fires, what fire eateth and drinketh; what fire eateth but drinketh not; what fire drinketh but eateth not and what other neither eateth nor drinketh?” “The fire of the world eateth but drinketh not; the fire which eateth and drinketh is Hell-fire; the fire of the sun drinketh but eateth not, and the fire of the moon neither eateth nor drinketh.” Q “Which is the open door and which the shut?” “The Traditional Ordinances are the open door, the Koranic the shut door.” Q “Of what doth the poet speak, when he saith,
‘And dweller in the tomb whose food is at his head,
When he eateth of that meat, of words he waxeth fain:
He riseth and he walketh and he talketh without tongue;
And returneth to the tomb where his kith and kin are lain.
No living wight is he, yet, in honour he abides;
Nor dead yet he deserveth that Allah him assain.’”
She replied, “The reed-pen.”7 Quoth he “What doth the poet refer to in these verses,
‘Two vests in one; blood flowing easiest wise;
Rosy red ears and mouth wide open lies;
It hath a cock-like form, its belly pecks
And, if you price it, half a dirham buys.’”
She replied, “The ink-case.” Quoth he, “And in these,
‘Ho say to men of wisdom, wit and lore
To sapient, reverend, clever counsellor:
Tell me what was’t you saw that bird bring forth
When wandering
Arab-land and Ajam o’er?
No flesh it beareth and it hath no blood,
Nor down nor any feathers e’er it wore.
’Tis eaten cooked and eke ’tis eaten cold;
’Tis eaten buried
‘neath the flames that roar:
It showeth twofold colours, silver white
And yellow brighter than pure golden ore:
’Tis not seen living or we count it dead:
So ree my riddle rich in marvel-store!’”
She replied, “Thou makest longsome the questioning anent an egg worth a mite.” Q “And this?,
‘I waved to and fro and he waved to and fro,
With a motion so pleasant, now fast and now slow;
And at last he sunk down on my bosom of snow;
‘Your lover friend?’”
“No friend, my fan;”8 said she. Q “How many words did Allah speak to Moses?” “It is related of the Apostle that he said, ‘God spoke to Moses fifteen hundred and fifteen words.’” Q “Tell me of fourteen things that speak to the Lord of the Worlds?” “The seven heavens and the seven earths, when they say, ‘We come obedient to Thy command.’”9 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Koran lxxxi. 18. Sale translates “by the morning when it appeareth;” and the word (tanaffus) will bear this meaning. Mr. Rodwell prefers, “By the dawn when it clears away the darkness by its breath.”
2 As a rule Moslems are absurdly ignorant of arithmetic and apparently cannot master it. Hence in Egypt they used Copts for calculating-machines and further East Hindds. The mildest numerical puzzle, like the above, is sure of success.
3 The paradiseal tree which supplied every want. Mohammed borrowed it from the Christians (Rev. xxi. 10–21 and xxii. 1–2) who placed in their paradise the Tree of Life which bears twelve sorts of fruits and leaves of healing virtue. (See also the 3rd book of Hermas, his Similitudes.) The Hebrews borrowed it from the Persians. Amongst the Hindus it appears as “Kalpavriksha;” amongst the Scandinavians as Yggdrasil. The curious reader will consult Mr. James Fergusson’s learned work, “Tree and Serpent Worship,” etc. London, 1873.
4 Aaron’s Rod becomes amongst Moslems (Koran vii. 110) Moses’ Staff; the size being that of a top-mast. (Pilgrimage i. 300, 301.) In Koran xx. 18, 19, we find a notice of its uses; and during the Middle Ages it reappeared in the Staff of Wamba the Goth (A.D.672–680) the witch’s broomstick was its latest development.
5 Christ, say the Eutychians, had only one nature, the divine; so he was crucified in effigy.
6 Jesus is compared with Adam in the Koran (chapt. iii.): his titles are Kalámu ’llah (word of God) because engendered without a father, and Rúhu ’llah (breath of God) because conceived by Gabriel in the shape of a beautifui youth breathing into the Virgin’s vulva. Hence Moslems believe in a “miraculous conception” and consequently determine that one so conceived was, like Elias and Khizr, not subject to death; they also hold him born free from “original sin” (a most sinful superstition), a veil being placed before the Virgin and Child against the Evil One who could not touch them. He spoke when a babe in cradle; he performed miracles of physic; he was taken up to Heaven; he will appear as the forerunner of Mohammed on the White Tower of Damascus, and finally he will be buried at Al–Medinah. The Jews on the other hand speak of him as “that man:” they hold that he was begotten by Joseph during the menstrual period and therefore a born magician. Moreover he learned the Sham ha-maphrash or Nomen tetragrammaton, wrote it on parchment and placed it in an incision in his thigh, which closed up on the Name being mentioned (Buxtorf, Lex Talmud, 25–41). Other details are given in the Toldoth Jesu (Historia Joshuæ Nazareni). This note should be read by the eminent English littérateur who discovered a fact, well known to Locke and Carlyle, that “Mohammedans are Christians.” So they are and something more.
7 In the Kalamdán, or pen-case, is a little inkstand of metal occupying the top of the long, narrow box.
8 A fair specimen of the riddle known as the “surprise.”
9 Koran xli. 10.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel made the answer, the philosopher continued, “Tell me of Adam and how he was first created?” and she said, “Allah created Adam of clay: the clay He made of foam and the foam of the sea, the sea of darkness, darkness of light, light of a fish, the fish of a rock, the rock of a ruby, the ruby of water, and the water He created by His Omnipotence according to His saying (exalted be His name!), ‘His commandment when He willeth aught, is but to say, BE — and It is.’”1 Q “What is meant by the poet in these verses,
‘And eater lacking mouth and even maw;
Yet trees and beasts to it are daily bread:
Well fed it thrives and shows a lively life,
But give it water and you do it dead?’”
“This,” quoth she, “is Fire.” “And in these;” he asked,
“Two lovers barred from every joy and bliss,
Who through the livelong night embracing lie:
They guard the folk from all calamities,
But with the rising sun apart they fly?”
She answered, “The leaves of a door.” Quoth he, “Tell me of the gates of Gehenna?” Quoth she, “They are seven in number and their names are comprised in these two couplets,
‘Jahannam, next Lazá, and third Hatím;
Then count Sa’ír and Sakar eke, five-fold,
Sixth comes Jahím and Háwiyah the seventh;
Here are seven Hells in four lines briefly told.’”
Quoth he “To what doth the poet refer when he saith,
‘She wears a pair of ringlets long let down
Behind her, as she comes and goes at speed,
And eye that never tastes of sleep nor sheds
A tear, for ne’er a drop it hath at need;
That never all its life wore stitch of clothes;
Yet robes mankind in every-mode of weed?’”
Quoth she, “A needle.” Q “What is the length and what the breadth of the bridge Al–Sirát?” “Its length is three thousand years’ journey, a thousand in descent and a thousand in ascent and a thousand level: it is sharper than a sword and finer than a hair.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Koran xxxvi. 82.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel had described to him Al–Sirat, the philosopher said, “Inform me how many intercessions with Allah hath the Prophet for each soul?”1 “Three.” Q “Was Abu Bakr the first who embraced Al–Islam?” “Yes.” Q “Yet Ali became a Moslem before him?” “Ali came to the Prophet, when he was a boy of seven years old, for Allah vouchsafed him knowledge of the way of salvation in his tender youth, so that he never prostrated himself to idols.” Quoth he, “Tell me which is the more excellent, Ali or Abbás?” Now she knew that, in propounding this question, Ibrahim was laying a trap for her; for if she said, “Ali is more excellent than Abbas,” she would lack excuse with the Caliph for undervaluing his ancestor; so she bowed her head awhile, now reddening, then paling, and lastly said, “Thou askest me of two excellent men, each having his own excellence. Let us return to what we were about.” When the Caliph Harun al-Rashid heard her, he stood up and said, “Thou hast spoken well, by the Lord of the Ka’abah, O Tawaddud!” Then quoth Ibrahim the rhetorician, “What meaneth the poet when he saith,
‘Slim-wasted one, whose taste is sweetest-sweet,
Likest a lance whereon no head we scan:
And all the lieges find it work them weal,
Eaten of afternoon in Ramazan.’”
She answered, “The sugar-cane;” and he said, “Tell me of many things.” Asked she, “What are they?” and he said, “What is sweeter than honey; what is sharper than the sword; what is swifter than poison; what is the delight of a moment and what the contentment of three days; what is the pleasantest of days; what is the joy of a week; what is that debt the worst debtor denieth not; what is the prison of the tomb; what is the joy of the heart; what is the snare of the soul; what is death-in-life; what is the disease that may not be healed; what is the shame that may not be wiped off; what is the beast that woneth not in cultivated fields, but lodgeth in waste places and hateth the sons of Adam and hath in him somewhat of the make of seven strong and violent beasts?” Quoth she, “Hear what I shall say in reply; then put off thy clothes, that I may explain to thee;” and the Caliph said, “Expound, and he shall doff his clothes.” So she said, “Now that, which is sweeter than honey, is the love of pious children to their two parents; that, which is sharper than the sword, is the tongue; that, which is swifter than poison, is the Envier’s eye; the delight of a moment is carnal copulation and the contentment of three days is the depilatory for women; the pleasantest of days is that of profit on merchandise; the joy of a week is the bride; the debt, which the worst debtor denieth not, is death; the prison of the tomb is a bad son; the joy of the heart is a woman obedient to her husband (and it is said also that, when fleshmeat descendeth upon the heart, it rejoiceth therein); the snare of the soul is a disobedient slave; death-in-life is poverty; the disease that may not be healed is an ill-nature, and the shame that may not be wiped away is an ill daughter; lastly, the beast that woneth not in cultivated fields, but lodgeth in waste places and hateth the sons of Adam and hath in him somewhat of the make of seven strong and violent beasts, is the locust, whose head is as the head of a horse, its neck as the neck of the bull, its wings as the wings of the vulture, its feet as the feet of the camel, its tail as the tail of the serpent, its belly as the belly of the scorpion and its horns as the horns of the gazelle.” The Caliph was astounded at her quickness and understanding, and said to the rhetorician, “Doff thy clothes.” So he rose up and cried, “I call all who are present in this assembly to witness that she is more learned than I and every other learned man.” And he put off his clothes and gave them to her, saying, “Take them and may Allah not bless them to thee!” So the Caliph ordered him fresh clothes and said, “O Tawaddud, there is one thing left of that for which thou didst engage, namely, chess.” And he sent for experts of chess and cards2 and trictrac. The chess-player sat down before her, and they set the pieces, and he moved and she moved; but, every move he made she speedily countered — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here we enter upon a series of disputed points. The Wahhábis deny the intercession of the Apostle (Pilgrimage ii. 76–77). The Shi’ahs place Ali next in dignity to Mohammed and there is a sect (Ali–Iláhi) which believes him to be an Avatar or incarnation of the Deity. For the latter the curious reader will consult the “Dabistan,” ii. 451. The Koran by its many contradictions seems to show that Mohammed never could make up his own mind on the subject, thinking himself at times an intercessor and then sharply denying all intercession.
2 Arab. “Kanjifah”=a pack of cards; corrupted from the Persian “Ganjífah.” We know little concerning the date or origin of this game in the East, where the packs are quite unlike ours.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel was playing chess with the expert in presence of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, whatever move he made was speedily countered by her, till she beat him and he found himself checkmated. Quoth he, “I did but lead thee on, that thou mightest think thyself skilful: but set up again, and thou shalt see.” So they placed the pieces a second time, when he said in himself, “Open thine eyes or she will beat thee.” And he fell to moving no piece, save after calculation, and ceased not to play, till she said, “Thy King is dead! — Checkmate.” When he saw this he was confounded at her quickness and understanding; but she laughed and said, “O professor, I will make a wager with thee on this third game. I will give thee the queen and the right-hand castle and the left-hand knight; if thou beat me, take my clothes, and if I beat thee, I will take thy clothes.” Replied he, “I agree to this;” and they replaced the pieces, she removing queen, castle and knight.1 Then said she, “Move, O master.” So he moved, saying to himself, “I cannot but beat her, with such odds,” and planned a combination; but, behold, she moved on, little by little, till she made one of her pawns2 a queen and pushing up to him pawns and other pieces, to take off his attention, set one in his way and tempted him to take it. Accordingly, he took it and she said to him, “The measure is meted and the loads equally balanced.3 Eat till thou are over-full; naught shall be thy ruin, O son of Adam, save thy greed. Knowest thou not that I did but tempt thee, that I might finesse thee? See: this is check-mate!” adding, “So doff off thy clothes.” Quoth he, “Leave me my bag-trousers, so Allah repay thee;” and he swore by Allah that he would contend with none, so long as Tawaddud abode in the realm of Baghdad. Then he stripped off his clothes and gave them to her and went away. Thereupon came the backgammon-player, and she said to him, “If I beat thee, this day, what wilt thou give me?” Quoth he, “I will give thee ten suits of brocade of Constantinople, figured with gold, and ten suits of velvet and a thousand gold pieces; and if I beat thee, I ask nothing but that thou write me an acknowledgment of my victory.” Quoth she, “To it, then, and do thy best.” So they played, and he lost and went away, chattering in Frankish jargon and saying, “By the bounty of the Commander of the Faithful, there is not her like in all the regions of the world!” Then the Caliph summoned players on instruments of music and asked her, “Dost thou know aught of music?”; when she answered, “Even so!” He bade bring a worn lute, polished by use, whose owner forlorn and lone was by parting trodden down; and of which quoth one, describing it
“Allah watered a land, and upsprang a tree
Struck root deep down, and raised head a-sky:
The birds o’ersang it when green its wood;
And the Fair o’ersing now the wood is dry.”
So they brought the lute in a bag of red satin, with tassels of saffron-coloured silk: and she opened the bag, and took it out and behold on it was graven,
“Oft hath a tender bough made lute for maid,
Whose swift sweet lays at feast men’s hearts invade:
She sings; it follows on her song, as though
The Bulbuls4 taught her all the modes she played.”
She laid her lute in her lap and with bosom inclining over it, bent to it with the bending of a mother who suckleth her child; then she preluded in twelve different modes, till the whole assembly was agitated with delight, like a waving sea, and she sang the following,
“Cut short this strangeness, leave unruth of you;
My heart shall love you aye, by youth of you!
Have ruth on one who sighs and weeps and moans,
Pining and yearning for the troth of you.”
The Caliph was ravished and exclaimed, “Allah bless thee and be merciful to him who taught thee!”: whereupon she rose and kissed the ground before him. Then he sent for money and paid her master Abu al-Husn an hundred thousand gold pieces to her price; after which he said to her, “O Tawaddud, ask a boon of me!” Replied she, “I ask of thee that thou restore me to my lord who sold me.” “’Tis well,” answered the Caliph and restored her to her master and gave her five thousand dinars for herself. Moreover, he appointed Abu al-Husn one of his cup-companions for a permanence — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 It is interesting to compare this account with the pseudo Ovid and with Tale clxvi. in Gesta “Of the game of Schaci.” Its Schacarium is the chess-board. Rochus (roccus, etc.) is not from the Germ. Rock (a coat) but from Rukh (Pers. a hero, a knight-errant) Alphinus (Ital. Alfino) is Al–Firzán (Pers. science, wise).
2 Arab, “Baydak” or “Bayzak”; a corruption of the Persian “Piyádah”=a footman, peon, pawn; and proving whence the Arabs derived the game. The Persians are the readiest backgammon-players known to me, better even than the Greeks; they throw the dice from the hand and continue foully abusing the fathers and mothers of the “bones” whilst the game lasts. It is often played in the intervals of dinner by the higher classes in Persia.
3 Metaphor from loading camels and mules. To “eat” a piece is to take it.
4 Arab. “Bilábil”; a plural of “Bulbul” with a double entendre balábil (plur. of ballalah)=heart’s troubles, and “balá, bul”=a calamity, nay, etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph gave the damsel five thousand dinars for herself and restored her to her master whom he appointed one of his cup-companions for a permanence and assigned him a monthly stipend of a thousand dinars so long as he should live; and he abode with the damsel Tawaddud in all solace and delight of life. Marvel then, O King, at the eloquence of this damsel and the hugeness of her learning and understanding and her perfect excellence in all branches of art and science; and consider the generosity of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, in that he gave her master this money and said to her, “Ask a boon of me;” and she besought him to restore her to her lord. So he restored her to him and gave her five thousand dinars for herself and made him one of his boon-companions. Where is such generosity to be found after the Abbaside Caliphs? — May Allah Almighty have mercy upon them, one and all! And they tell a tale of
It is related, O auspicious King, that one of the olden monarchs was once minded to ride out in state with the Officers of his realm and the Grandees of his retinue and display to the folk the marvels of his magnificence. So he ordered his Lords and Emirs equip them therefor and commanded his keeper of the wardrobe to bring him of the richest of raiment, such as befitted the King in his state; and he bade them bring his steeds1 of the finest breeds and pedigrees every man heeds; which being done, he chose out of the raiment what rejoiced him most and of the horses that which he deemed best; and, donning the clothes, together with a collar set with margarites and rubies and all manner jewels, mounted and set forth in state, making his destrier prance and curvet among his troops and glorying in his pride and despotic power. And Iblis came to him and, laying his hand upon his nose, blew into his nostrils the breath of hauteur and conceit, so that he magnified and glorified himself and said in his heart, “Who among men is like unto me?” And he became so puffed up with arrogance and self-sufficiency, and so taken up with the thought of his own splendour and magnificence, that he would not vouchsafe a glance to any man. Presently, there stood before him one clad in tattered clothes and saluted him, but he returned not his salam; whereupon the stranger laid hold of his horse’s bridle. “Lift thy hand,” cried the King, “thou knowest not whose bridle-rein it is whereof thou takest hold.” Quoth the other, I have a need of thee.” Quoth the King, “Wait till I alight and then name thy need.” Rejoined the stranger, “It is a secret and I will not tell it but in thine ear.” So the King bowed his head to him and he said, “I am the Angel of Death and I purpose to take thy soul.” Replied the King, “Have patience with me a little, whilst I return to my house and take leave of my people and children and neighbours and wife.” “By no means so,” answered the Angel; “thou shalt never return nor look on them again, for the fated term of thy life is past.” So saying, he took the soul of the King (who fell off his horse’s back dead) and departed thence. Presently the Death Angel met a devout man, of whom Almighty Allah had accepted, and saluted him. He returned the salute, and the Angel said to him, “O pious man, I have a need of thee which must be kept secret.” “Tell it in my ear,” quoth the devotee; and quoth the other, “I am the Angel of Death.” Replied the man, “Welcome to thee! and praised be Allah for thy coming! I am aweary of awaiting thine arrival; for indeed long hath been thine absence from the lover which longeth for thee.” Said the Angel, “If thou have any business, make an end of it;” but the other answered, saying, “There is nothing so urgent to me as the meeting with my Lord, to whom be honour and glory!” And the Angel said “How wouldst thou fain have me take thy soul? I am bidden to take it as thou willest and choosest.” He replied, “Tarry till I make the Wuzu-ablution and pray; and, when I prostrate myself, then take my soul while my body is on the ground.”2 Quoth the Angel, “Verily, my Lord (be He extolled and exalted!) commanded me not to take thy soul but with thy consent and as thou shouldst wish; so I will do thy will.” Then the devout man made the minor ablution3 and prayed: and the Angel of Death took his soul in the act of prostration and Almighty Allah transported it to the place of mercy and acceptance and forgiveness. And they tell another tale of
1 The popular English idea of the Arab horse is founded upon utter unfact. Book after book tells us, “There are three distinct breeds of Arabians — the Attechi, a very superior breed; the Kadishi, mixed with these and of little value; and the Kochlani, highly prized and very difficult to procure.” “Attechi” may be At-Tázi (the Arab horse, or hound) or some confusion with “At” (Turk.) a horse. “Kadish” (Gadish or Kidish) is a nag; a gelding, a hackney, a “pacer” (generally called “Rahwán”). “Kochlani” is evidently “Kohláni,” the Kohl-eyed, because the skin round the orbits is dark as if powdered. This is the true blue blood; and the bluest of all is “Kohláni al-Ajúz” (of the old woman) a name thus accounted for. An Arab mare dropped a filly when in flight; her rider perforce galloped on and presently saw the foal appear in camp, when it was given to an old woman for nursing and grew up to be famous. The home of the Arab horse is the vast plateau of Al–Najd: the Tahámah or lower maritime regions of Arabia, like Malabar, will not breed good beasts. The pure blood all descends from five collateral lines called Al–Khamsah (the Cinque). Literary and pedantic Arabs derive them from the mares of Mohammed, a native of the dry and rocky region, Al–Hijaz, whither horses are all imported. Others go back (with the Koran, chapt. xxviii.) to Solomon, possibly Salmán, a patriarch fourth in descent from Ishmael and some 600 years older than the Hebrew King. The Badawi derive the five from Rabí‘at al-Faras (R. of the mare) fourth in descent from Adnán, the fount of Arab genealogy. But they differ about the names: those generally given are Kahilan (Kohaylat), Sakláwi (which the Badawin pronounce Sagláwi), Abayán, and Hamdáni; others substitute Manákhi (the long-maned), Tanís and Jalfún. These require no certificate amongst Arabs; for strangers a simple statement is considered enough. The Badawin despise all half-breeds (Arab sires and country mares), Syrian, Turkish, Kurdish and Egyptian. They call these (first mentioned in the reign of Ahmes, B.C. 1600) the “sons of horses”; as opposed to “sons of mares,” or thorough-breds. Nor do they believe in city-bred animals. I have great doubts concerning our old English sires, such as the Darley Arabian which looks like a Kurdish half-bred, the descendant of those Cappadocians so much prized by the Romans: in Syria I rode a “Harfúshí” (Kurd) the very image of it. There is no difficulty in buying Arab stallions except the price. Of course the tribe does not like to part with what may benefit the members generally; but offers of £500 to £1,000 would overcome men’s scruples. It is different with mares, which are almost always the joint property of several owners. The people too dislike to see a hat on a thorough-bred mare: “What hast thou done that thou art ridden by that ill-omened Kafir?” the Badawin used to mutter when they saw a highly respectable missionary at Damascus mounting a fine Ruwalá mare. The feeling easily explains the many wars about horses occurring in Arab annals, e.g. about Dáhis and Ghabrá. (C. de Perceval, Essas, vol.ii.)
2 The stricter kind of Eastern Jew prefers to die on the floor, not in bed, as was the case with the late Mr. Emmanuel Deutsch, who in his well-known article on the Talmud had the courage to speak of “Our Saviour.” But as a rule the Israelite, though he mostly appears as a Deist, a Unitarian, has a fund of fanatical feelings which crop up in old age and near death. The “converts” in Syria and elsewhere, whose Judaism is intensified by “conversion,” when offers are made to them by the missionaries repair to the Khákhám (scribe) and, after abundant wrangling determine upon a modus vivendi. They are to pay a proportion of their wages, to keep careful watch in the cause of Israel and to die orthodox. In Istria there is a legend of a Jew Prior in a convent who was not discovered till he announced himself most unpleasantly on his death-bed. For a contrary reason to Jewish humility, the Roman Emperors preferred to die standing.
3 He wished to die in a state of ceremonial purity; as has before been mentioned.
A certain King had heaped up coin beyond count and gathered store of all precious things, which Allah the Most Highest hath created. So, in order that he might take his pleasure whenas he should find leisure to enjoy all this abounding wealth he had collected, he built him a palace wide and lofty such as befitteth and beseemeth Kings; and set thereto strong doors and appointed, for its service and its guard, servants and soldiers and doorkeepers to watch and ward. One day, he bade the cooks dress him somewhat of the goodliest of food and assembled his household and retainers and boon-companions and servants to eat with him, and partake of his bounty. Then he sat down upon the sofa of his kingship and dominion; and, propping his elbow upon the cushion, addressed himself, saying, “O soul, thou hast gathered together all the wealth of the world; so now take thy leisure therein and eat of this good at thine ease, in long life and prosperity ever rife!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that hardly had the King made an end of saying to himself, “Eat of this weal at thine ease, in long life and prosperity ever rife!” when a man clad in tattered raiment, with an asker’s wallet hanging at his neck, as he were one who came to beg food, knocked with the door-ring a knock so loud and terrible that the whole palace shook as with quake of earth and the King’s throne trembled. The servants were affrighted and rushed to the door, and when they saw the man who had knocked they cried out at him, saying, “Woe to thee! what manner of unmannerly fashion be this? Wait till the King eateth and we will then give thee of what is left.” Quoth he, “Tell your lord to come out and speak with me, for I have of him a pressing need and a matter to heed.” They cried, “Away, fool! who art thou that we should bid our lord come forth to thee?” But he said, “Tell him of this.” So they went in and told the King, who said, “Did ye not rebuke him and draw upon him and threaten him!” Now as he spoke, behold, there came another knock at the gate, louder than the first knock, whereupon the servants sprang at the stranger with staves and weapons, to fall upon him and slay him; but he shouted at them, saying, “Bide in your steads, for I am the Angel of Death.” Hereat their hearts quaked and their wits forsook them; their understandings were in confusion, their side-muscles quivered in perturbation and their limbs lost the power of motion. Then said the King to them, “Tell him to take a substitute1 in my place and one to relieve me in this case.” But the Angel answered, saying, “I will take no substitute, and I come not but on thine account, to cause separation between thee and the goods thou hast gathered together and the riches thou hast heaped up and entreasured.” When the King heard this, he wept and groaned, saying, “Allah curse the treasure which hath deluded and undone me and diverted me from the service of my Lord! I deemed it would profit me, but to-day it is a regret for me and a calamity to me, and behold, I go forth, empty-handed of it, and leave it to my foes.” Thereupon Allah caused the Treasure to speak out and it said, “Wherefore cursest thou me?2 Curse thyself, for Allah created both me and eke thyself of the dust and appointed me to be in thine hand, that thou mightest provide thee with me a viaticum for the next world and give alms with me to the poor and the needy and the sick; and build mosques and hospices and bridges and aqueducts, so might I be an aidance unto thee in the world to come. But thou didst garner me and hoard me up and on thine own vanities bestowedst me, neither gavest thou thanks for me, as was due, but wast ungrateful to me; and now thou must leave me to thy foes and thou hast naught save thy regretting and thy repenting. But what is my sin, that thou shouldest revile me?” Then the Angel of Death took the King’s soul as he sat on his throne before he ate of the food, and he fell down dead. Quoth Allah Almighty, “While they were rejoicing for that which had been given them, we suddenly laid hold on them; and, behold, they were seized with despair.”3 And they tell another tale of
1 Arab. “Badal”: in Sind (not to speak of other places) it was customary to hire a pauper “badal” to be hanged in stead of a rich man. Sir Charles Napier signed many a death-warrant before he ever heard of the practice.
2 Arab. “La’an” = curse. The word is in every mouth though strongly forbidden by religion. Even of the enemies of Al–Islam the learned say, “Ila’an Yezíd wa lá tazíd” = curse Yezid but do not exceed (i.e. refrain from cursing the others). This, however, is in the Shafi’í school and the Hanafís do not allow it (Pilgrimage i. 198). Hence the Moslem when scrupulous uses na’al (shoe) for la’an (curse) as Ina’al abúk (for Ila’an abu’-k) or, drat (instead of damn) your father. Men must hold Supreme Intelligence to be of feeble kind if put off by such miserable pretences.
3 Koran vi. 44, speaking of the Infidels. It is a most unamiable chapter, with such assertions as “Allah leadeth into error whom He pleaseth,” etc.
There was a puissant despot among the Kings of the Banú Isráíl, who sat one day upon the throne of his kingship, when he saw come in to him, by the gate of the hall, a man of forbidding aspect and horrible presence. The King was affrighted at his sudden intrusion and his look terrified him; so he sprang up before him and said, “Who art thou, O man? Who gave thee leave to come in to me and who invited thee to enter my house?” Quoth the stranger, “Verily the Lord of the House sent me to thee, nor can any doorkeeper exclude me, nor need I leave to come in to Kings; for I reck not of a Sultan’s majesty neither of the multitude of his guards. I am he from whom no tyrant is at rest, nor can any man escape from my grasp: I am the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies.” Now when the King heard this a palsy crept over him1 and he fell on his face in a swoon; but presently coming to himself, he asked, “Art thou then the Angel of Death?”; and the stranger answered, “Yes.” “I conjure thee, by Allah,” quoth the King, “grant me one single day’s respite, that I may pray pardon of my sins and ask absolution of my Lord and restore to their rightful owners the monies which are in my treasures, so I may not be burdened with the woe of a reckoning nor with the misery of punishment therefor.” Replied the Angel, “Well-away! well-away! this may be in no way.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Alluding to the “formication” which accompanies a stroke of paralysis.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the Death-messenger to the King, “Well-away, well-away! this may be in no way. How can I grant thee a reprieve when the days of thy life are counted and thy breaths numbered and thy moments fixed and written?” “Grant me an hour,” asked the King; but the Angel answered saying, “The hour was in the account and hath sped, and thou unheeding aught; and hath fled, and thou taking no thought: and now thy breathings are accomplished, and there remaineth to thee but one breath.” Quoth the King, “Who will be with me when I am transported to my tomb?” Quoth the Angel, “Naught will be with thee but thy works good or evil.” “I have no works,” said the King; and the Angel, “Doubtless thy long home will be in hell-fire and thy doom the wrath of the Almighty.” Then he seized the soul of the King, and he fell off his throne and dropped on the earth dead. And there arose a mighty weeping and wailing and clamour of keening for him among the people of his court, and had they known that to which he went of the wrath of his Lord, their weeping for him had been sorer and their wailing louder and more abounding. And a story is told of
It is related that Iskandar Zu al-Karnayn2 once came, in his journeyings, upon a tribe of small folk, who owned naught of the weals of the world and who dug their graves over against the doors of their houses and were wont at all times to visit them and sweep the earth from them and keep them clean and pray at them and worship Almighty Allah at them; and they had no meat save grasses and the growth of the ground. So Iskandar sent a man to summon their King, but he refused to come, saying, “I have no need of him.” Thereupon Iskandar went to him and said, “How is it with you and what manner of men are ye?; for I see with you forsooth naught of gold or silver, nor find I with you aught of the weals of the world.” Answered the King, “None hath his fill of the weals of the world.” Iskandar then asked “Why do you dig your graves before your house-doors?”; and the King answered, “That they may be the prospective of our eye-glances; so we may look on them and ever renew talk and thought of death, neither forget the world to come; and on this wise the love of the world be banished from our hearts and we be not thereby distracted from the service of our Lord, the Almighty.” Quoth Iskandar, “Why do ye eat grasses?”; and the other replied, “Because we abhor to make our bellies the tombs of animals and because the pleasure of eating outstrippeth not the gullet.” Then putting forth his hand he brought out a skull of a son of Adam and, laying it before Iskandar, said, “O Zu al-Karnayn, Lord of the Two Horns, knowest thou who owned this skull?” Quoth he, “Nay;” and quoth the other, “He who owned this skull was a King of the Kings of the world, who dealt tyrannously with his subjects, specially wronging the weak and wasting his time in heaping up the rubbish of this world, till Allah took his sprite and made the fire his abiding-site; and this is his head.” He then put forth his hand and produced another skull and, laying it before Iskandar, said to him, “Knowest thou this?” “No,” answered the conqueror; and the other rejoined, “This is the skull of another King, who dealt justly by his lieges and was kindly solicitous for the folk of his realm and his dominions, till Allah took his soul and lodged him in His Garden and made high his degree in Heaven.” Then laying his hands on Iskandar’s head he said, “Would I knew which of these two art thou.” Whereupon Iskandar wept with sore weeping and straining the King to his bosom cried, “If thou be minded to company with me, I will commit to thee as Wazir the government of my affairs and share with thee my kingdom.” Cried the other, “Well-away, well-away! I have no mind to this.” “And why so?” asked Iskandar, and the King answered, “Because all men are thy foes by reason of the wealth and the worlds thou hast won: while all men are my true friends, because of my contentment and pauperdom, for that I possess nothing, neither covet aught of the goods of life; I have no desire to them nor wish for them, neither reck I aught save contentment.” So Iskandar pressed him to his breast and kissed him between the eyes and went his way.3 And among the tales they tell is one concerning
1 Pronounce Zool Karnayn.
2 i.e. the Koranic and our mediæval Alexander, Lord of the two Horns (East and West) much “Matagrobolized” and very different from him of Macedon. The title is variously explained, from two protuberances on his head or helm, from two long locks and, possibly, from the ram-horns of Jupiter Ammon. The anecdote in the text seems suggested by the famous interview (probably a canard) with Diogenes: see in the Gesta, Tale cxlvi., “The answer of Diomedes the Pirate to Alexander.” Iskandar was originally called Marzbán (Lord of the Marches), son of Marzabah; and, though descended from Yunán, son of Japhet, the eponymus {Greek text} of the Greeks, was born obscure, the son of an old woman. According to the Persians he was the son of the Elder Dáráb (Darius Codomannus of the Kayanian or Second dynasty), by a daughter of Philip of Macedon; and was brought up by his grandfather. When Abraham and Isaac had rebuilt the Ka’abah they foregathered with him and Allah sent him forth against the four quarters of the earth to convert men to the faith of the Friend or to cut their throats; thus he became one of the four world-conquerors with Nimrod, Solomon, Bukht al-Nasr (Nabochodonosor); and he lived down two generations of men. His Wazir was Aristú (the Greek Aristotle) and he carried a couple of flags, white and black, which made day and night for him and facilitated his conquests. At the end of Persia, where he was invited by the people, on account of the cruelty of his half brother Darab II., he came upon two huge mountains on the same line, behind which dwelt a host of abominable pygmies, two spans high, with curious eyes, ears which served as mattresses and coverlets, huge fanged mouths, lions’ claws and hairy hind quarters. They ate men, destroyed everything, copulated in public and had swarms of children. These were Yájúj and Májúj (Gog and Magog) descendants of Japhet. Sikandar built against them the famous wall with stones cemented and riveted by iron and copper. The “Great Wall” of China, the famous bulwark against the Tartars, dates from B.C. 320 (Alexander of Macedon died B.C. 324); and as the Arabs knew Canton well before Mohammed’s day, they may have built their romance upon it. The Guebres consigned Sikandar to hell for burning the Nusks or sections of the Zendavesta.
3 These terrific preachments to Eastern despots (who utterly ignore them) are a staple produce of Oriental tale-literature and form the chiaro-oscuro, as it were, of a picture whose lights are brilliant touches of profanity and indelicate humour. It certainly has the charm of contrast. Much of the above is taken from the Sikandar-nameh (Alexander Book) of the great Persian poet, Nizámi, who flourished A.H. 515–597, between the days of Firdausi (ob. A.D.1021) and Sa’adi (ob. A.D. 1291). In that romance Sikandar builds, “where the sun goes down,” a castle of glittering stone which kills men by causing excessive laughter and surrounds it with yellow earth like gold. Hence the City of Brass. He also converts, instead of being converted by, the savages of the text. He finds a stone of special excellence which he calls Almás (diamond); and he obtains it from the Valley of Serpents by throwing down flesh to the eagles. Lastly he is accompanied by “Bilínas” or “Bilínus,” who is apparently Apollonius of Tyana.
It is told of Anushirwan, the Just King, that once upon a time he feigned himself sick, and bade his stewards and intendants go round about the provinces of his empire and the quarters of his dominion and seek him out a mud-brick thrown away from some ruined village, that he might use it as medicine, informing his intimates that the leaches had prescribed this to him. So they went the round of the provinces of his reign and of all the lands under his sway and said to him on return, “In all the realm we have found nor ruined site nor castaway mud-brick.” At this Anushirwan rejoiced and rendered thanks to the Lord, saying, “I was but minded to try my kingdom and prove mine empire, that I might know if any place therein remained ruined and deserted, so I might rebuild and repeople it; but, since there be no place in it but is inhabited, the affairs of the reign are best-conditioned and its ordinance is excellent; and its populousness2 hath reached the pitch of perfection.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 I have explained the beautiful name in Night cclxxxix: He is stil famous for having introduced into Persia the fables of Pilpay (Bidyapati, the lord of lore) and a game which the genius of Persia developed into chess.
2 Here we find an eternal truth, of which Malthusians ever want reminding; that the power of a nation simply consists in its numbers of fighting men and in their brute bodily force. The conquering race is that which raises most foot-pounds: hence the North conquers the South in the Northern hemisphere and visa versa.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the high officials returned and reported, “We have found in the empire nor ruined site nor rotten brick,” the Just King thanked his God and said, “Verily the affairs of the realm are best-conditioned and its ordinance is excellent and its populousness hath reached the pink of perfection.” And ken thou, O King, continued Shahrazad, that these olden Kings strave not and toiled not for the peopling of their possessions, but because they knew that the more populous a country is, the more abundant is that which is desired therein; and because they wist the saying of the wise and the learned to be true without other view, namely, “Religion dependeth on the King, the King on the troops, the troops on the treasury, the treasury on the populousness of the country and its prosperity on the justice done to the lieges.” Wherefore they upheld no one in tyranny or oppression; neither suffered their dependants and suite to work injustice, knowing that kingdoms are not established upon tyranny, but that cities and places fall into ruin when oppressors are set as rulers over them, and their inhabitants disperse and flee to other governments; whereby ruin falleth upon the realm, the imports fail, the treasuries become empty and the pleasant lives of the subjects are perturbed; for that they love not a tyrant and cease not to offer up successive prayers against him; so that the King hath no ease of his kingdom, and the vicissitudes of fortune speedily bring him to destruction. And they tell a tale concerning
Among the Children of Israel one of the Kazis had a wife of surpassing beauty, constant in fasting and abounding in patience and long-suffering; and he, being minded to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, appointed his own brother Kazi in his stead, during his absence, and commended his wife to his charge. Now this brother had heard of her beauty and loveliness and had taken a fancy to her. So no sooner was his brother gone than he went to her and sought her love-favours; but she denied him and held fast to her chastity. The more she repelled him, the more he pressed his suit upon her; till, despairing of her and fearing lest she should acquaint his brother with his misconduct whenas he should return, he suborned false witnesses to testify against her of adultery; and cited her and carried her before the King of the time who adjudged her to be stoned. So they dug a pit, and seating her therein stoned her, till she was covered with stones, and the man said, “Be this hole her grave!” But when it was dark a passer-by, making for a neighbouring hamlet, heard her groaning in sore pain; and, pulling her out of the pit, carried her home to his wife, whom he bade dress her wounds. The peasant woman tended her till she recovered and presently gave her her child to be nursed; and she used to lodge with the child in another house by night. Now a certain thief saw her and lusted after her. So he sent to her seeking her love-favours, but she denied herself to him; wherefore he resolved to slay her and, making his way into her lodging by night (and she sleeping), thought to strike at her with a knife; but it smote the little one and killed it. Now when he knew his misdeed, fear overtook him and he went forth the house and Allah preserved from him her chastity. But as she awoke in the morning, she found the child by her side with throat cut; and presently the mother came and seeing her boy dead, said to the nurse, “Twas thou didst murther him.” Therewith she beat her a grievous beating and purposed to put her to death; but her husband interposed and delivered the woman, saying, “By Allah, thou shalt not do on this wise.” So the woman, who had somewhat of money with her, fled forth for her life, knowing not whither she should wend. Presently, she came to a village, where she saw a crowd of people about a man crucified to a tree-stump, but still in the chains of life. “What hath he done?” she asked, and they answered, “He hath committed a crime, which nothing can expiate but death or the payment of such a fine by way of alms.” So she said to them, “Take the money and let him go;” and, when they did so, he repented at her hands and vowed to serve her, for the love of Almighty Allah till death should release him. Then he built her a cell and lodged her therein; after which he betook himself to woodcutting and brought her daily her bread. As for her, she was constant in worship, so that there came no sick man or demoniac to her, but she prayed for him and he was straightway healed. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the woman’s cell was visited by folk (and she constant in worship), it befel by decree of the Almighty that He sent down upon her husband’s brother (the same who had caused her to be stoned), a cancer in the face, and smote the villager’s wife (the same who had beaten her) with leprosy, and afflicted the thief (the same who had murthered the child) with palsy. Now when the Kazi returned from his pilgrimage, he asked his brother of his wife, and he told him that she was dead, whereat he mourned sore and accounted her with her Maker. After awhile, very many folk heard of the pious recluse and flocked to her cell from all parts of the length and breadth of the earth; whereupon said the Kazi to his brother, “O my brother, wilt thou not seek out yonder pious woman? Haply Allah shall decree thee healing at her hands!” and he replied, “O my brother, carry me to her” Moreover, the husband of the leprous woman heard of the pious devotee and carried his wife to her, as did also the people of the paralytic thief; and they all met at the door of the hermitage. Now she had a place wherefrom she could look out upon those who came to her, without their seeing her; and they waited till her servant came, when they begged admittance and obtained permission. Presently she saw them all and recognized them; so she veiled and cloaked face and body and went out and stood in the door, looking at her husband and his brother and the thief and the peasant-woman; but they could not recognize her. Then said she to them, “Ho folk, ye shall not be relieved of what is with you till ye confess your sins; for, when the creature confesseth his sins the Creator relenteth towards him and granteth him that wherefore he resorteth to him.” Quoth the Kazi to his brother, “O my brother, repent to Allah and persist not in thy frowardness, for it will be more helpful to thy relief.” And the tongue of the case spake this speech,
“This day oppressor and oppressed meet,
And Allah sheweth secrets we secrete:
This is a place where sinners low are brought;
And Allah raiseth saint to highest seat.
Our Lord and Master shows the truth right clear,
Though sinner froward be or own defeat:
Alas1 for those who rouse the Lord to wrath,
As though of Allah’s wrath they nothing weet!
O whoso seekest honours, know they are
From Allah, and His fear with love entreat.”
(Saith the relator), Then quoth the brother, “Now I will tell the truth: I did thus and thus with thy wife;” and he confessed the whole matter, adding, “And this is my offence.” Quoth the leprous woman, “As for me, I had a woman with me and imputed to her that of which I knew her to be guiltless, and beat her grievously; and this is my offence.” And quoth the paralytic, “And I went in to a woman to kill her, after I had tempted her to commit adultery and she had refused; and I slew a child that lay by her side; and this is my offence.” Then said the pious woman, “O my God, even as Thou hast made them feel the misery of revolt, so show them now the excellence of submission, for Thou over all things art Omnipotent!” And Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!) made them whole. Then the Kazi fell to looking on her and considering her straitly, till she asked him why he looked so hard and he said, “I had a wife and were she not dead, I had said thou art she.” Hereupon, she made herself known to him and both began praising Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!) for that which He had vouchsafed them of the reunion of their loves; but the brother and the thief and the villager’s wife joined in imploring her forgiveness. So she forgave them one and all, and they worshipped Allah in that place and rendered her due service, till Death parted them. And one of the Sayyids2 hath related this tale of
1 Arab. “Wayha,” not so strong as “Woe to,” etc. Al–Hariri often uses it as a formula of affectionate remonstrance.
2 As a rule (much disputed) the Sayyid is a descendant from Mohammed through his grandchild Hasan, and is a man of the pen; whereas the Sharif derives from Husayn and is a man of the sword. The Najíb al-taraf is the son of a common Moslemah by a Sayyid, as opposed to the “Najib al-tarafayn,” when both parents are of Apostolic blood. The distinction is not noticed in Lane’s “Modern Egyptians”. The Sharif is a fanatic and often dangerous, as I have instanced in Pilgrimage iii. 132.
“I was circuiting the Ka’abah one dark night, when I heard a plaintive voice, speaking from a contrite heart and saying, ‘O Bountiful One, Thy past boon! Indeed, by my heart shall Thy covenant never be undone.’ Hearing this voice, my heart fluttered so that I was like to die; but I followed the sound and behold, it came from a woman, to whom I said, ‘Peace be with thee, O handmaid of Allah;’ whereto she replied, ‘And with thee be peace, and the mercy of Allah and His blessings!’ Quoth I, ‘I conjure thee, by Allah the Most Great, tell me what is the covenant to which thy heart is constant.’ Quoth she, ‘But that thou adjurest me by the Omnipotent, I would not tell thee my secrets. See what is before me.’ So I looked and lo! there was a child lying asleep before her and breathing heavily in his slumber. Said she, “Know, that I set forth, being big with this boy, to make the pilgrimage to this House and took passage in a ship; but the waves rose against us and the winds blew contrary and the vessel broke up. I saved myself on a plank; and, on that bit of wood, I gave birth to this child; and while he lay on my bosom and the waves beating upon me,’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the woman continued, “‘Now while the boy lay on my bosom and the waves beat upon me, there swam up to me one of the sailors, who climbed on the plank and said, ‘By Allah, I desired thee whilst thou wast yet in the ship, and now I have come at thee: so yield thy body to me, or I will throw thee into the sea.’ Said I, ‘Out on thee! hast thou no memory of that which thou hast seen and is it no warning to thee?’ Quoth he, ‘I have seen the like of this many a time and come off safe and care not.’ Quoth I, ‘O fellow, we are now in a calamity, whence we hope to be delivered by obedience to Allah and not by disobedience.’ But he persisted with me, and I feared him and thought to put him off; so I said to him, ‘Wait till this babe shall sleep’; but he took the child off my lap and threw him into the sea. Now when I saw this desperate deed, my heart sank and sorrow was sore upon me; so I raised my eyes heavenwards and said, ‘O Thou that interposest between a man and his heart, intervene between me and this leonine brute; for Thou over all things art Omnipotent!’ And by Allah, hardly had I spoken when a beast rose out of the sea and snatched him off the plank. When I saw myself alone my sorrows redoubled and my grief and longing for my child, and I recited,
‘My coolth of eyes, the darling child of me
Is lost, and racked my heart with agony;
My body wrecked, and red-hot coals of love
Burning my liver with sore pangs, I see.
In this my sorrow shows no gleam of joy;
Save Thy high grace and my expectancy:
Hast seen, O Lord, what unto me befel;
My son aye lost and parting pangs I dree:
Take ruth on us and make us meet again;
For now my stay and only hope’s in Thee!’
I abode in this condition a day and a night; and, when morning dawned, I caught sight of the sails of a vessel shining afar off, nor did the waves cease to drive me and the winds to waft me on, till I reached the ship, whose sails I had sighted. The sailors took me up and I looked and behold, my babe was amongst them: so I threw myself upon him and said, ‘O folk, this is my child: how and whence came ye by him?’ Quoth they, ‘Whilst we were sailing along the seas the ship suddenly stood still and lo! that which stayed us was a beast, as it were a great city, and this babe on its back, sucking his thumbs. So we took him up.’ Now when I heard this, I told them my tale and all that had betided me and returned thanks to my Lord for His goodness, and vowed to Him that never, whilst I lived, would I stir from His House nor swerve from His service; and since then I have never asked of Him aught but He hath given it me.’ Now when she had made an end of her story (quoth the Sayyid), I put my hand to my alms-pouch and would have given to her, but she exclaimed, “Away from me, thou idle man! Have I not told thee of His mercies and the graciousness of His dealings and shall I take an alms from other than His hand?” And I could not prevail with her to accept aught of me: so I left her and went away, reciting these couplets
‘How many boons conceals the Deity,
Eluding human sight in mystery:
How many graces come on heels of stresses,
And fill the burning heart with jubilee:
How many a sorrow in the morn appears,
And turns at night-tide into gladdest gree:
If things go hard with thee some day, yet trust
Th’ Eterne, th’
Almighty God of Unity:
And pray the Prophet that he intercede;
Through intercession every wish shalt see.’
And she left not the service of her Lord, cleaving unto His House, till death came to her.” And a tale is also told by Málik bin Dínár1 (Allah have mercy on him!) of
1 A theologian of Bassorah (eighth century): surnamed Abú Yahyá. The prayer for mercy denotes that he was dead when the tale was written.
“We were once afflicted with drought at Bassorah and went forth sundry times to pray for rain, but saw no sign of our prayers being accepted. So I went, I and ‘Itaa al-Salamí and Sábit al-Banáni and Naja al-Bakáa and Mohammed bin Wási’a and Ayyúb al-Sukhtiyáni and Habíb al-Farsi and Hassán bin Abi Sinán and ‘Otbah al-Ghulám and Sálih al-Muzani,1 till we reached the oratory,2 when the boys came out of the schools and we prayed for rain, but saw no sign of acceptance. So about mid-day the people went away and I and Sabit al-Banani tarried in the place of prayer till nightfall, when we saw a black of comely face, slender of shank3 and big of belly, approach us, clad in a pair of woollen drawers; if all he wore had been priced, it would not have fetched a couple of dirhams. He brought water and made the minor ablution, then, going up to the prayer-niche, prayed two inclinations deftly, his standing and bowing and prostration being exactly similar in both. Then he raised his glance heavenwards, and said, ‘O my God and my Lord and Master, how long wilt Thou reject Thy servants in that which offereth no hurt to Thy sovereignty? Is that which is with Thee wasted or are the treasuries of Thy Kingdom annihilated? I conjure Thee, by Thy love to me forthwith to pour out upon us Thy rain-clouds of grace!’ He spake and hardly had he made an end of speaking, when the heavens clouded over and there came a rain, as if the mouths of waterskins had been opened; and when we left the oratory, we were knee-deep in water,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A theologian of Bassorah (eighth century).
2 Arab. “Musallá”; lit. a place of prayer; an oratory, a chapel, opp. to “Jámi’” = a (cathedral) mosque.
3 According to all races familiar with the negro, a calf like a shut fist planted close under the ham is, like the “cucumber shin” and “lark heel”, a good sign in a slave. Shapely calves and well-made legs denote the idle and the ne’er-do-well. I have often found this true although the rule is utterly empirical. Possibly it was suggested by the contrast of the nervous and lymphatic temperaments.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “hardly had he spoken when the heavens clouded over and there came a rain, as if the mouths of waterskins had been opened. And when we left the oratory we were knee-deep in water, and we were lost in wonder at the black. So I accosted him and said to him, ‘Woe to thee, O black, art thou not ashamed of what thou saidst?’ He turned to me and asked, ‘What said I?’; and I, ‘Thy saying to Allah, ‘By Thy love of me;’ and what giveth thee to know that He loveth thee?’ Replied he, ‘Away from me, O thou distracted by the world from the care of thine own soul. Where was I, when He gave me strength to profess the unity of the Godhead and vouchsafed unto me the knowledge of Him? How deemest thou that He aided me thus except of His love to me?’ adding, ‘Verily, His love to me is after the measure of my love to Him.’ Quoth I, ‘Tarry awhile with me, so may Allah have mercy on thee!’ But he said, ‘I am a chattel and the Book enjoineth me to obey my lesser master.’ So we followed him afar off, till we saw him enter the house of a slave-broker. Now the first half of the night was past and the last half was longsome upon us, so we went away; but next morning, we repaired to the slave-dealer and said to him, ‘Hast thou a lad to sell us for service?’ He answered, ‘Yes, I have an hundred lads or so and they are all for sale.’ Then he showed us slave after slave; till he had shown us some seventy; but my friend was not amongst them, and the dealer said, ‘These are all I have.’ But, as we were going out from him we saw a ruinous hut behind his house and going in behold, we found the black standing there. I cried, ‘’Tis he, by the Lord of the Ka’abah!’ and turning to the dealer, said to him, ‘Sell me yonder slave.’ Replied he, ‘O Abu Yahya, this is a pestilent unprofitable fellow, who hath no concern by night but weeping and by day but repentance.’ I rejoined, ‘It is for that I want him.’ So the dealer called him, and he came out, showing drowsiness. Quoth his master, ‘Take him at thine own price, so thou hold me free of all his faults.’ I bought him for twenty dinars and asked ‘What is his name?’ and the dealer answered ‘Maymun, the monkey;’ and I took him by the hand and went out with him, intending to go home; but he turned to me and said, ‘O my lesser lord, why and wherefore didst thou buy me? By Allah, I am not fit for the service of God’s creatures!’ Replied I, ‘I bought thee that I might serve thee myself; and on my head be it.’ Asked he, ‘Why so?’ and I answered, ‘Wast thou not in company with us yesterday in the place of prayer?’ Quoth he, ‘And didst thou hear me?’; and quoth I, ‘It was I accosted thee yesterday and spoke with thee.’ Thereupon he advanced till we came to a mosque, where he entered and prayed a two-bow prayer; after which he said, ‘O my God and my Lord and Master, the secret that was between me and Thee Thou hast discovered unto Thy creatures and hast brought me to shame before the worldling. How then shall life be sweet to me, now that other than Thou hath happened upon that which is between Thee and me? I conjure Thee to take my soul to Thee forthright.1 So saying, he prostrated himself, and I awaited awhile without seeing him raise his head; so I shook him and behold, he was indeed dead, the mercy of Almighty Allah be upon him! I laid him out stretching his arms and legs and looked at him, and lo! he was smiling. Moreover, whiteness had got the better of blackness on his brow, and his face was radiant with light like a young moon. As we wondered at his case, the door opened and a young man came in to us and said, ‘Peace be with you! May Allah make great our reward and yours for our brother Maymun! Here is his shroud: wrap him in it.’ So saying, he gave us two robes, never had we seen the like of them, and we shrouded him therein. And now his tomb is a place whither men resort to pray for rain and ask their requirements of Allah (be He extolled and exalted!); and how excellently well saith the poet on this theme,
‘The heart of Gnostic2 homed in heavenly Garth
Heaven decks, and Allah’s porters aid afford.
Lo! here they drink old wine commingled with
Tasním,3 the wine of union with the Lord.
Safe is the secret ‘twixt the Friend and them;
Safe from all hearts but from that Heart adored.’”
And they recount another anecdote of
1 These devotees address Allah as a lover would his beloved. The curious reader will consult for instances the Dabistan on Tasawwuf (ii. 221; i.,iii. end, and passim).
2 Arab. “Ma’rifat,” Pers. Dánish; the knowledge of the Truth. The seven steps are (1) Sharí‘at, external law like night; (2) Taríkat, religious rule like the stars; (3) Hakíkat, reality, truth like the moon; (4) Ma’arifat like the sun; (5) Kurbat, proximity to Allah; (6) Wasílat, union with Allah, and (7) Suknat, dwelling in Allah. (Dabistan iii.29.)
3 Name of a fountain of Paradise: See Night xlix., vol. ii., p.100.
There was once, among the Children of Israel, a man of the worthiest, who was strenuous in the service of his Lord and abstained from things worldly and drave them away from his heart. He had a wife who was a helpmate meet for him and who was at all times obedient to him. They earned their living by making trays1 and fans, whereat they wrought all through the light hours; and, at nightfall, the man went out into the streets and highways seeking a buyer for what they had made. They were wont to fast continually by day2 and one morning they arose, fasting, and worked at their craft till the light failed them, when the man went forth, according to custom, to find purchasers for his wares, and fared on till he came to the door of the house of a certain man of wealth, one of the sons of this world, high in rank and dignity. Now the tray-maker was fair of face and comely of form, and the wife of the master of the house saw him and fell in love with him and her heart inclined to him with exceeding inclination; so, her husband being absent, she called her handmaid and said to her, “Contrive to bring yonder man to us.” Accordingly the maid went out to him and and called him and stopped him as though she would buy what he held in hand. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Atbák”; these trays are made of rushes, and the fans of palm-leaves or tail-feathers.
2 Except on the two great Festivals when fasting is forbidden. The only religion which has shown common sense in this matter is that of the Guebres or Parsis: they consider fasting neither meritorious nor lawful; and they honour Hormuzd by good living “because it keeps the soul stronger.” Yet even they have their food superstitions, e.g. in Gate No. xxiv.: “Beware of sin specially on the day thou eatest flesh, for flesh is the diet of Ahriman.” And in India the Guebres have copied the Hindus in not slaughtering horned cattle for the table.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the maid-servant went out to the man and asked him, “Come in; my lady hath a mind to buy some of thy wares, after she hath tried them and looked at them.” The man thought she spoke truly and, seeing no harm in this, entered and sat down as she bade him; and she shut the door upon him. Whereupon her mistress came out of her room and, taking him by the gaberdine,1 drew him within and said, “How long shall I seek union of thee? Verily my patience is at an end on thine account. See now, the place is perfumed and provision prepared and the householder is absent this night, and I give to thee my person without reserve, I whose favours kings and captains and men of fortune have sought this long while, but I have regarded none of them.” And she went on talking thus to him, whilst he raised not his eyes from the ground, for shame before Allah Almighty and fear of the pains and penalties of His punishment; even as saith the poet,
“‘Twixt me and riding many a noble dame,
Was naught but shame which kept me chaste and pure:
My shame was cure to her; but haply were
Shame to depart, she ne’er had known a cure.”
The man strove to free himself from her, but could not; so he said to her, “I want one thing of thee.” She asked, “What is that?”: and he answered, “I wish for pure water that I may carry it to the highest place of thy house and do somewhat therewith and cleanse myself of an impurity, which I may not disclose to thee.” Quoth she, “The house is large and hath closets and corners and privies at command.” But he replied, “I want nothing but to be at a height.” So she said to her slave-girl, “Carry him up to the belvedere on the house-terrace.” Accordingly the maid took him up to the very top and, giving him a vessel of water, went down and left him. Then he made the ablution and prayed a two-bow prayer; after which he looked at the ground, thinking to throw himself down, but seeing it afar off, feared to be dashed to pieces by the fall.2 Then he bethought him of his disobedience to Allah, and the consequences of his sin; so it became a light matter to him to offer up his life and shed his blood; and he said, “O my God and my Lord, Thou seest that which is fallen on me; neither is my case hidden from Thee. Thou indeed over all things art Omnipotent and the tongue of my case reciteth and saith,
‘I show my heart and thoughts to Thee, and Thou
Alone my secret’s secrecy canst know.
If I address Thee fain I cry aloud;
Or, if I’m mute, my signs for speech I show.
O Thou to whom no second be conjoined!
A wretched lover seeks Thee in his woe.
I have a hope my thoughts as true confirm;
And heart that fainteth as right well canst trow.
To lavish life is hardest thing that be,
Yet easy an Thou bid me life forego;
But, an it be Thy will to save from stowre,
Thou, O my Hope, to work this work hast power!’”
Then the man cast himself down from the belvedere; but Allah sent an angel who bore him up on his wings and brought him down to the ground, whole and without hurt or harm. Now when he found himself safe on the ground, he thanked and praised Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!) for His merciful protection of his person and his chastity; and he went straight to his wife who had long expected him, and he empty-handed. Then seeing him, she asked him why he had tarried and what was come of that he had taken with him and why he returned empty-handed; whereupon he told her of the temptation which had befallen him, and she said, “Alhamdolillah — praised be God-for delivering thee from seduction and intervening between thee and such calamity!” Then she added, “O man, the neighbours use to see us light our oven every night; and, if they see us fireless this night, they will know that we are destitute. Now it behoveth in gratitude to Allah, that we hide our destitution and conjoin the fast of this night to that of the past and continue it for the sake of Allah Almighty.” So she rose and, filling the oven with wood, lighted it, to baffle the curiosity of her woman-neighbours, reciting these couplets,
“Now I indeed will hide desire and all repine;
And light up this my fire that neighbours see no sign:
Accept I what befals by order of my Lord;
Haply He too accept this humble act of mine.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after the goodwife had lit the fire to baffle the curiosity of her women-neighbours, she and her husband made the Wuzu-ablution and stood up to pray, when behold, one of the neighbours’ wives came and asked leave to take a fire-brand from the oven. “Do what thou wilt with the oven,” answered they; but, when she came to the fire, she cried out, saying, “Ho, such an one (to the tray-maker’s wife) take up thy bread ere it burn!” Quoth the wife to her husband, “Hearest thou what she saith?” Quoth he, “Go and look.” So she went up to the oven, and behold, it was full of fine bread and white. She took up the scones and carried them to her husband, thanking Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!) for His abounding good and great bounty; and they ate of the bread and drank water and praised the Almighty. Then said the woman to her husband, “Come let us pray to Allah the Most Highest, so haply He may vouchsafe us what shall enable us to dispense with the weariness of working for daily bread and devote ourselves wholly to worshipping and obeying Him.” The man rose in assent and prayed, whilst his wife said, “Amen,” to his prayer, when the roof clove in sunder and down fell a ruby, which lit the house with its light. Hereat, they redoubled in praise and thanksgiving to Allah praying what the Almighty willed,1 and rejoiced at the ruby with great joy. And the night being far spent, they lay down to sleep and the woman dreamt that she entered Paradise and saw therein many chairs ranged and stools set in rows. She asked what the seats were and it was answered her, “These are the chairs of the prophets and those are the stools of the righteous and the pious.” Quoth she, “Which is the stool of my husband such an one?”; and it was said to her, “It is this.” So she looked and seeing a hole in its side asked, “What may be this hole?”; and the reply came, “It is the place of the ruby that dropped upon you from your house-roof.” Thereupon she awoke, weeping and bemoaning the defect in her husband’s stool among the seats of the Righteous; so she told him the dream and said to him, “Pray Allah, O man, that this ruby return to its place; for endurance of hunger and poverty during our few days here were easier than a hole in thy chair among the just in Paradise.”2 Accordingly, he prayed to his Lord, and lo! the ruby flew up to the roof and away whilst they looked at it. And they ceased not from their poverty and their piety, till they went to the presence of Allah, to whom be Honour and Glory! And they also tell a tale of
1 The phrase means “offering up many and many a prayer.”
2 A saying of Mohammed is recorded “Al-fakru fakhrí” (poverty is my pride!), intelligible in a man who never wanted for anything. Here he is diametrically opposed to Ali who honestly abused poverty; and the Prophet seems to have borrowed from Christendom, whose “Lazarus and Dives” shows a man sent to Hell because he enjoyed a very modified Heaven in this life and which suggested that one of the man’s greatest miseries is an ecclesiastical virtue —“Holy Poverty”— represented in the Church as a bride young and lovely. If a “rich man can hardly enter the kingdom” what must it be with a poor man whose conditions are far more unfavourable? Going to the other extreme we may say that Poverty is the root of all evil and the more so as it curtails man’s power of benefiting others. Practically I observe that those who preach and praise it the most, practise it the least willingly: the ecclesiastic has always some special reasons, a church or a school is wanted; but not the less he wishes for more money. In Syria this Holy Poverty leads to strange abuses. At Bayrut I recognised in most impudent beggers well-to-do peasants from the Kasrawán district, and presently found out that whilst their fields were under snow they came down to the coast, enjoyed a genial climate and lived on alms. When I asked them if they were not ashamed to beg, they asked me if I was ashamed of following in the footsteps of the Saviour and Apostles. How much wiser was Zoroaster who found in the Supreme Paradise (Minuwán-minu) “many persons, rich in gold and silver who had worshipped the Lord and had been grateful to Him.” (Dabistan i. 265.)
Al–Hajjaj bin Yusuf al-Sakafi had been long in pursuit of a certain man of the notables, and when at last he was brought before him, he said, “O enemy of Allah, He hath delivered thee over to me;” and cried, “Hale him to prison and lay him by the heels in heavy fetters and build a closet over him, that he may not come forth of it nor any go into him.” So they bore him to jail and summoned the blacksmith with the irons; and every time the smith gave a stroke with his hammer, the prisoner raised his eyes to heaven and said, “Is not the whole Creation and the Empire thereof His?”1 Then the gaolers built the cage2 over him and left him therein, lorn and lone, whereupon longing and consternation entered into him and the tongue of his case recited in extempore verse,
“O, Wish of wistful men, for Thee I yearn;
My heart seeks grace of one no heart shall spurn.
Unhidden from thy sight is this my case;
And for one glance of thee I pine and burn.
They jailed and tortured me with sorest pains:
Alas for lone one can no aid discern!
But, albe lone, I find Thy name befriends
And cheers, though sleep to eyes shall ne’er return:
An thou accept of me, I care for naught;
And only Thou what’s in my heart canst learn!”
Now when night fell dark, the gaoler left his watchmen to guard him and went to his house; and on the morrow, when he came to the prison, he found the fetters lying on the ground and the prisoner gone; whereat he was affrighted and made sure of death. So he returned to his place and bade his family farewell, after which he took in his sleeve his shroud and the sweet herbs for his corpse, and went in to Al–Hajjaj. And as he stood before the presence, the Governor smelt the perfumes and asked, “What is that?” when the gaoler answered, “O my lord, it is I who have brought it.” “And what moved thee to that?” enquired the Governor; whereupon he told him his case — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the gaoler told his case to Al–Hajjaj, the Governor cried, “Woe to thee! Didst thou hear him say aught?” Answered the gaoler, “Yes! whilst the blacksmith was hammering his irons, he ceased not to look up heavenwards and say, ‘Is not the whole Creation and the Empire thereof His?’” Rejoined Al–Hajjaj, “Dost thou not know that He, on whom he called in thy presence, delivered him in thine absence?” And the tongue of the case recited on this theme,
“O Lord, how many a grief from me hast driven
Nor can I sit or stand without Thy hold:
How many many things I cannot count,
Thou sav’st from many many and manifold!”
And they also tell a tale of
It reached the ears of a certain pious man that there abode in such a town a blacksmith, who could put his hand into the fire and pull out the iron red-hot, without the flames doing him aught of hurt.1 So he set out for the town in question and asked for the blacksmith; and, when the man was shown to him, he watched him at work and saw him do as had been reported to him. He waited till he had made and end of his day’s work; then, going up to him, saluted him with the salam and said, “I would be thy guest this night.” Replied the smith, “With gladness and goodly gree!” and carried him to his place, where they supped together and lay down to sleep. The guest watched, but saw no sign in his host of praying through the night or of special devoutness and said in his mind, “Haply he hideth himself from me.” So he lodged with him a second and a third night, but found that he did not exceed the devotions prescribed by the law and custom of the Prophet and rose but little in the dark hours to pray. At last he said to him, “O my brother, I have heard of the gift with which Allah hath favoured thee and have seen the truth of it with mine eyes. Moreover, I have taken note of thine assiduity in religious exercises, but find in thee no such piety as distinguisheth those who work saintly miracles: whence, then, cometh this to thee?” “I will tell thee,” answered the smith, “Know that I was once passionately enamoured of a slave-girl and ofttimes sued her for love-liesse, but could not prevail upon her, because she still held fast by her chastity. Presently there came a year of drought and hunger and hardship; food failed and there befel a sore famine. As I was sitting one day at home, somebody knocked at the door; so I went out and behold, she was standing there; and she said to me, ‘O my brother, I am sorely an-hungered and I lift mine eyes to thee, beseeching thee to feed me for Allah’s sake!’ Quoth I, ‘Wottest thou not how I love thee and what I have suffered for thy sake? Now I will not give thee one bittock of bread except thou yield thy person to me.’ Quoth she, ‘Death, but not disobedience to the Lord!’ Then she went away and returned after two days with the same prayer for food as before. I made her a like answer, and she entered and sat down in my house being nigh upon death. I set food before her, whereupon her eyes brimmed with tears and she cried, ‘Give me meat for the love of Allah, to whom belong Honour and Glory!’ But I answered, ‘Not so, by Allah, except thou yield thyself to me.’ Quoth she, ‘Better is death to me than the wrath and wreak of Allah the Most Highest;’ and she rose and left the food untouched”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This commonest conjuring trick in the West becomes a miracle in the credulous East.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the man set food before her, the woman said, “Give me meat for the love of Allah to whom be Honour and Glory!’ But I answered, ‘Not so, by Allah, except thou yield to me thy person.’ Quoth she, ‘Better is death than the wrath and wreak of Allah;’ and she rose and left the food untouched and went away repeating these couplets,
‘O Thou, the One, whose grace doth all the world embrace;
Thine ears have heard, Thine eyes have seen my case!
Privation and distress have dealt me heavy blows;
The woes that weary me no utterance can trace.
I am like one athirst who eyes the landscape’s eye,
Yet may not drink a draught of streams that rail and race.
My flesh would tempt me by the sight of savoury food
Whose joys shall pass away and pangs maintain their place.’
She then disappeared for two days, when she again came and knocked at the door; so I went out to her, and lo! hunger had taken away her voice; but, after a rest she said, ‘O my brother, I am worn out with want and know not what to do, for I cannot show my face to any man but to thee. Say, wilt thou feed me for the love of Allah Almighty?’ But I answered, ‘Not so, except thou yield to me thy person.’ And she entered my house and sat down. Now I had no food ready; but, when the meat was dressed and I laid it in a saucer, behold, the grace of Almighty Allah entered into me and I said to myself, ‘Out on thee! This woman, weak of wit and faith, hath refrained from food till she can no longer, for stress of hunger; and, while she refuseth time after time, thou canst not forbear from disobedience to the Lord!’ And I said, ‘O my God, I repent to Thee of that which my flesh purposed!’ Then I took the food and carrying it to her, said, ‘Eat, for no harm shall betide thee: this is for the love of Allah, to whom belong Honour and Glory!’ Then she raised her eyes to heaven and said, ‘O my God, if this man say sooth, I pray Thee forbid fire to harm him in this world and the next, for Thou over all things art Omnipotent and Prevalent in answering the prayer of the penitent!’ Then I left her and went to put out the fire in the brasier.1 Now the season was winter and the weather cold, and a live coal fell on my body: but by the decree of Allah (to whom be Honour and Glory!) I felt no pain and it became my conviction that her prayer had been answered. So I took the coal in my hand, and it burnt me not; and going in to her, I said, ‘Be of good cheer, for Allah hath granted thy prayer!’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kánún”; the usual term is Mankal (pron. Mangal) a pan of copper or brass. Some of these “chafing-dishes” stand four feet high and are works of art. Lane (M.E. chapt. iv) gives an illustration of the simpler kind, together with the “Azikí,” a smaller pan for heating coffee. See Night dxxxviii.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the blacksmith continued: “So I went in to her and said, ‘Be of good cheer, for Allah hath granted thy prayer!’ Then she dropped the morsel from her hand and said, ‘O my God, now that Thou hast shown me my desire of him and hast granted me my prayer for him, take Thou my soul, for Thou over all things art Almighty!’ And straightway He took her soul to Him, the mercy of Allah be upon her!” And the tongue of the case extemporised and spake on this theme,
“She prayed: the Lord of grace her prayer obeyed;
And spared the sinner, who for sin had prayed:
He showed her all she prayed Him to grant;
And Death (as prayed she) her portion made:
Unto his door she came and prayed for food,
And sued his ruth for what her misery made:
He leant to error following his lusts,
And hoped to enjoy her as her wants persuade;
But he knew little of what Allah willed;
Nor was Repentance, though unsought, denayed.
Fate comes to him who flies from Fate, O Lord,
And lot and daily bread by Thee are weighed.”
And they also tell of
There was once, among the children of Israel, a man of the devout, for piety acclaimed and for continence and asceticism enfamed, whose prayers were ever granted and who by supplication obtained whatso he wanted; and he was a wanderer in the mountains and was used to pass the night in worship. Now Almighty Allah had subjected to him a cloud which travelled with him wherever he went, and poured on him its water-treasures in abundance that he might make his ablutions and drink. After a long time when things were thus, his fervour somewhat abated, whereupon Allah took the cloud away from him and ceased to answer his prayers. On this account, great was his grief and long was his woe, and he ceased not to regret the time of grace and the miracle vouchsafed to him and to lament and bewail and bemoan himself, till he saw in a dream one who said to him, “An thou wouldest have Allah restore to thee thy cloud, seek out a certain King, in such a town, and beg him to pray for thee: so will Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) give thee back thy cloud and bespread it over thee by virtue of his pious prayers.” And he began repeating these couplets,
“Wend to that pious prayerful Emir,
Who can with gladness thy condition cheer;
An he pray Allah, thou shalt win thy wish;
And heavy rain shall drop from welkin clear.
He stands all Kings above in potent worth;
Nor to compare with him doth aught appear:
Near him thou soon shalt hap upon thy want,
And see all joy and gladness draw thee near:
Then cut the wolds and wilds unfounted till
The goal thou goest for anigh shalt speer!”
So the hermit set out for the town named to him in the dream; and, coming thither after long travel, enquired for the King’s palace which was duly shown to him. And behold, at the gate he found a slave-officer sitting on a great chair and clad in gorgeous gear; so he stood to him and saluted him; and he returned his salam and asked him, “What is thy business?” Answered the devotee, “I am a wronged man, and come to submit my case to the King.” Quoth the officer, “Thou hast no access to him this day; for he hath appointed unto petitioners and enquirers one day in every seven” (naming the day), “on which they may go in to him; so wend thy ways in welfare till then.” The hermit was vexed with the King for thus veiling himself from the folk and said in thought, “How shall this man be a saint of the saints of Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!) and he on this wise?” Then he went away and awaited the appointed day. “Now” (quoth he)“when it came, I repaired to the palace, where I found a great number of folk at the gate, expecting admission; and I stood with them, till there came out a Wazir robed in gorgeous raiment and attended by guards and slaves, who said, ‘Let those, who have petitions to present, enter.’ So I entered with the rest and found the King seated facing his officers and grandees who were ranged according to their several ranks and degrees. The Wazir took up his post and brought forward the petitioners, one by one, till it came to my turn, when the King looked on me and said, ‘Welcome to the ‘Lord of the Cloud’! Sit thee down till I make leisure for thee.’ I was confounded at his words and confessed his dignity and superiority; and, when the King had answered the petitioners and had made an end with them, he rose and dismissed his Wazirs and Grandees; then, taking my hand he led me to the door of the private palace, where we found a black slave, splendidly arrayed, with helm on head, and on his right hand and his left, bows and coats of mail. He rose to the King; and, hastening to obey his orders and forestall his wishes, opened the door. We went in, hand in hand, till we came to a low wicket, which the King himself opened and led me into a ruinous place of frightful desolation and thence passed into a chamber, wherein was naught but a prayer-carpet, an ewer for ablution and some mats of palm-leaves. Here the King doffed his royal robes and donned a coarse gown of white wool and a conical bonnet of felt. Then he sat down and making me sit, called out to his wife, ‘Ho, such an one!’ and she answered from within saying, ‘Here am I.’ Quoth he, ‘Knowest thou who is our guest to-day?’ Replied she, ‘Yes, it is the Lord of the Cloud.’ The King said, ‘Come forth: it mattereth not for him.’ And behold, there entered a woman, as she were a vision, with a face that beamed like the new moon; and she wore a gown and veil of wool.”-And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that ‘when the King called to his wife, she came forth from the inner room; and her face beamed like the new moon; and she wore a gown and a veil of wool. Then said the King, ‘O my brother, dost thou desire to hear our story or that we should pray for thee and dismiss thee?’ Answered the hermit; ‘Nay, I wish to hear the tale of you twain, for that to me were preferable.’ Said the King, ‘My forefathers handed down the throne, one to the other, and it descended from great one to great one, in unbroken succession, till the last died and it came to me. Now Allah had made this hateful to me, for I would fain have gone awandering over earth and left the folk to their own affairs; but I feared lest they should fall into confusion and anarchy and misgovernment so as to swerve from divine law, and the union of the Faith be broken up. Wherefore, abandoning my own plans, I took the kingship and appointed to every head of them a regular stipend; and donned the royal robes; and posted slave-officers at the doors, as a terror to the dishonest and for the defence of honest folk and the maintenance of law and limitations. Now when free of this, I entered this place and, doffing my royal habit, donned these clothes thou seest; and this my cousin, the daughter of my father’s brother, hath agreed with me to renounce the world and helpeth me to serve the Lord. So we are wont to weave these palm-leaves and earn, during the day, a wherewithal to break our fast at nightfall; and we have lived on this wise nigh upon forty years. Abide thou with us (so Allah have mercy on thee!) till we sell our mats; and thou shalt sup and sleep with us this night and on the morrow wend thy ways with that thou wishest, Inshallah!’ So he tarried with them till the end of the day, when there came a boy five years old who took the mats they had made and carrying them to the market, sold them for a carat;1 and with this bought bread and beans and returned with them to the King. The hermit broke his fast and lay down to sleep with them; but in the middle of the night they both arose and fell to praying and weeping. When daybreak was near, the King said, “O my God, this Thy servant beseecheth Thee to return him his cloud; and to do this Thou art able; so, O my God, let him see his prayer granted and restore him his cloud.” The Queen amen’d to his orisons and behold, the cloud grew up in the sky; whereupon the King gave the hermit joy and the man took leave of them and went away, the cloud companying him as of old. And whatsoever he required of Allah after this, in the names of the pious King and Queen, He granted it without fail and the man made thereon these couplets,
“My Lord hath servants fain of piety;
Hearts in the Wisdom-garden ranging free:
Their bodies’ lusts at peace, and motionless
For breasts that bide in purest secresy.
Thou seest all silent, awesome of their Lord,
For hidden things unseen and seen they see.”
And they tell a tale of
1 See vol. iii., p.239. The system is that of the Roman As and Unciae. Here it would be the twenty-fourth part of a dinar or miskal; something under 5d. I have already noted that all Moslem rulers are religiously bound to some handicraft, if it be only making toothpicks. Mohammed abolished kingship proper as well as priestcraft.
The Commander of the Faithful, Omar bin al-Khattáb (whom Allah accept!), once levied for holy war an army of Moslems, to encounter the foe before Damascus, and they laid close siege to one of the Christians’ strongholds. Now there were amongst the Moslems two men, brothers, whom Allah had gifted with fire and bold daring against the enemy; so that the commander of the besieged fortress said to his chiefs and braves, “Were but yonder two Moslems ta’en or slain, I would warrant you against the rest of their strain.” Wherefore they left not to set for them all manner of toils and snares and ceased not to manoeuvre and lie in wait and ambush for them, till they took one of them prisoner and slew the other, who died a martyr. They carried the captive to the Captain of the fort, who looked at him and said, “Verily, to kill this man were indeed a pity; but his return to the Moslem would be a calamity.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the enemy carried their Moslem captive before the Captain of the fort, the Christian looked at him and said, “Verily to kill this man were a pity indeed; but his return to the Moslem would be a calamity. Oh that he might be brought to embrace the Nazarene Faith and be to us an aid and an arm!” Quoth one of his Patrician Knights, “O Emir, I will tempt him to abjure his faith, and on this wise: we know that the Arabs are much addicted to women, and I have a daughter, a perfect beauty, whom when he sees, he will be seduced by her.” Quoth the Captain, “I give him into thy charge.” So he carried him to his place and clad his daughter in raiment, such as added to her beauty and loveliness. Then he brought the Moslem into the room and set before him food and made the fair girl stand in his presence, as she were a handmaid obedient to her lord and awaiting his orders that she might do his bidding. When the Moslem saw the evil sent down upon him, he commended himself to Allah Almighty and closing his eyes, applied himself to worship and to reciting the Koran. Now he had a pleasant voice and a piercing wit; and the Nazarene damsel presently loved him with passionate love and pined for him with extreme repine. This lasted seven days, at the end of which she said to herself, “Would to Heaven he would admit me into the Faith of Al–Islam!” And the tongue of her case recited these couplets,
“Wilt turn thy face from heart that’s all thine own,
This heart thy ransom and this soul thy wone?
I’m ready home and kin to quit for aye,
And every Faith for that of sword1 disown:
I testify that Allah hath no mate:
This proof is stablished and this truth is known.
Haply shall deign He union grant with one
Averse, and hearten heart love-overthrown;
For ofttimes door erst shut, is opened wide,
And after evil case all good is shown.”
At last her patience failed her and her breast was straitened and she threw herself on the ground before him, saying, “I conjure thee by thy Faith, that thou give ear to my words!” Asked he, “What are they?” and she answered, “Expound unto me Al–Islam.” So he expounded to her the tenets of the Faith, and she became a Moslemah, after which she was circumcised2 and he taught her to pray. Then said she to him, “O my brother, I did but embrace Al–Islam for thy sake and to win thy favours.” Quoth he, “The law of Al–Islam forbiddeth sexual commerce save after a marriage before two legal witnesses, and a dowry and a guardian are also requisite. Now I know not where to find witnesses or friend or parapherne; but, an thou can contrive to bring us out of this place, I may hope to make the land of Al–Islam, and pledge myself to thee that none other than thou in all Al–Islam shall be wife to me.” Answered she, “I will manage that”; and, calling her father and mother, said to them, “Indeed this Moslem’s heart is softened and he longeth to enter the faith, so I will grant him that which he desireth of my person; but he saith: ‘It befitteth me not to do this in a town where my brother was slain. Could I but get outside it my heart would be solaced and I would do that which is wanted of me.’ Now there is no harm in letting me go forth with him to another town, and I will be a surety to you both and to the Emir for that which ye wish of him.” Therefore her father went to their Captain and told him this, whereat he joyed with exceeding joy and bade him carry them forth to a village that she named. So they went out and made the village where they abode the rest of their day, and when night fell, they got ready for the march and went their way, even as saith the poet,
“‘The time of parting,’ cry they, ‘draweth nigh’:
‘How oft this parting-threat?’ I but reply:
I’ve naught to do but cross the wild and wold
And, mile by mile, o’er fountless wastes to fly,
If the beloved seek another land
Sons of the road, whereso they wend, wend I.
I make desire direct me to their side,
The guide to show me where the way doth lie.”
And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Al–Islam, where salvation is found under the shade of the swords.
2 Moslems like the Classics (Aristotle and others) hold the clitoris (Zambúr) to be the sedes et scaturigo veneris which, says Sonnini, is mere profanity. In the babe it protrudes beyond the labiæ and snipping off the head forms female circumcision. This rite is supposed by Moslems to have been invented by Sarah who so mutilated Hagar for jealousy and was afterwards ordered by Allah to have herself circumcised at the same time as Abraham. It is now (or should be) universal in Al–Islam and no Arab would marry a girl “unpurified” by it. Son of an “uncircumcised” mother (Ibn al-bazrá) is a sore insult. As regards the popular idea that Jewish women were circumcised till the days of Rabbi Gershom (A.D.1000) who denounced it as a scandal to the Gentiles, the learned Prof. H. Graetz informs me, with some indignation, that the rite was never practised and that the great Rabbi contended only against polygamy. Female circumcision, however, is I believe the rule amongst some outlying tribes of Jews. The rite is the proper complement of male circumcision, evening the sensitiveness of the genitories by reducing it equally in both sexes: an uncircumcised woman has the venereal orgasm much sooner and oftener than a circumcised man, and frequent coitus would injure her health; hence I believe, despite the learned historian, that it is practised by some Eastern Jews. “Excision” is universal amongst the negroids of the Upper Nile (Werne), the Somál and other adjacent tribes. The operator, an old woman, takes up the instrument, a knife or razor-blade fixed into a wooden handle, and with three sweeps cuts off the labia and the head of the clitoris. The parts are then sewn up with a packneedle and a thread of sheepskin; and in Dar–For a tin tube is inserted for the passage of urine. Before marriage the bridegroom trains himself for a month on beef, honey and milk; and, if he can open his bride with the natural weapon, he is a sworder to whom no woman in the tribe can deny herself. If he fails, he tries penetration with his fingers and by way of last resort whips out his whittle and cuts the parts open. The sufferings of the first few nights must be severe. The few Somáli prostitutes who practised at Aden always had the labiæ and clitoris excised and the skin showing the scars of coarse sewing. The moral effect of female circumcision is peculiar. While it diminishes the heat of passion it increases licentiousness, and breeds a debauchery of mind far worse than bodily unchastity, because accompanied by a peculiar cold cruelty and a taste for artificial stimulants to “luxury.” It is the sexlessness of a spayed canine imitated by the suggestive brain of humanity.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the prisoner and the lady abode in the village the rest of their day and, when night fell, made ready for the march and went upon their way; and travelled all night without stay or delay. The young Moslem, mounting a swift blood-horse and taking up the maiden behind him, ceased not devouring the ground till it was bright morning, when he turned aside with her from the highway and, alighting, they made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed the dawn-prayer. Now as they were thus engaged behold, they heard the clank of swords and clink of bridles and men’s voices and tramp of horse; whereupon he said to her, “Ho, such an one, the Nazarenes are after us! What shall we do?: the horse is so jaded and broken down that he cannot stir another step.” Exclaimed she, “Woe to thee! art thou then afraid and affrighted?” “Yes,” answered he; and she said, “What didst thou tell me of the power of thy Lord and His readiness to succour those who succour seek? Come, let us humble ourselves before Him and beseech Him: haply He shall grant us His succour and endue us with His grace, extolled and exalted be He!” Quoth he, “By Allah, thou sayest well!” So they began humbling themselves and supplicating Almighty Allah and he recited these couplets,
“Indeed I hourly need thy choicest aid,
And should, though crown were placed upon my head:
Thou art my chiefest want, and if my hand
Won what it wisheth, all my wants were sped.
Thou hast not anything withholdest Thou;
Like pouring rain Thy grace is showered:
I’m shut therefrom by sins of me, yet Thou,
O Clement, deignest pardon-light to shed.
O Care–Dispeller, deign dispel my grief!
None can, save Thou, dispel a grief so dread.”
Whilst he was praying and she was saying, “Amen,” and the thunder of horse-tramp nearing them, lo! the brave heard the voice of his dead brother, the martyr, speaking and saying, “O my brother, fear not, nor grieve! for the host whose approach thou hearest is the host of Allah and His Angels, whom He hath sent to serve as witnesses to your marriage. Of a truth Allah hath made His Angels glorify you and He bestoweth on you the meed of the meritorious and the martyrs; and He hath rolled up the earth for you as it were a rug so that, by morning, you will be in the mountains of Al–Medinah. And thou, when thou foregatherest with Omar bin al-Khattab (of whom Allah accept!) give him my salutation and say to him: ‘Allah abundantly requite thee for Al–Islam, because thou hast counselled faithfully and hast striven diligently.’” Thereupon the Angels lifted up their voices in salutation to him and his bride, saying, “Verily, Almighty Allah appointed her in marriage to thee two thousand years before the creation of your father Adam (with whom be peace evermore!).” Then joy and gladness and peace and happiness came upon the twain; confidence was confirmed and established was the guidance of the pious pair. So when dawn appeared, they prayed the accustomed prayer and fared forward. Now it was the wont of Omar, son of Al–Khattab (Allah accept him!), to rise for morning-prayer in the darkness before dawn and at times he would stand in the prayer-niche with two men behind him, and begin reciting the Chapter entitled “Cattle”1 or that entitled “Women,”2 whereupon the sleeper awoke and he who was making his Wuzu-ablution accomplished it and he who was afar came to prayer; nor had he made an end of the first bow, ere the mosque was full of folk; then he would pray his second bow quickly, repeating a short chapter. But, on that morning he hurried over both first and second inclinations, repeating in each a short chapter; then, after the concluding salutation, turning to his companions, he said to them, “Come, let us fare forth to meet the bride and bridegroom”; at which they wondered, not understanding his words. But he went out and they followed him, till they came to the gate of the city, where they met the young Moslem who, when the day broke and the standards of Al–Medinah appeared to him, had pushed forward for the gate closely followed by his bride. There he was met by Omar who bade make a marriage feast; and the Moslems came and ate. Then the young Moslem went in unto his bride and Almighty Allah vouchsafed him children — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Omar (on whom be peace!) bade make a marriage-feast; and the Moslems came and ate. Then the young Moslem went in unto his bride and Almighty Allah vouchsafed him children, who fought in the Lord’s way and preserved genealogies, for they gloried therein. And how excellent is what is said on such theme,
“I saw thee weep before the gates and ‘plain,
Whilst only curious wight reply would deign:
Hath eye bewitcht thee, or hath evil lot
‘Twixt thee and door of friend set bar of bane?
Wake up this day, O wretch, persist in prayer,
Repent as wont repent departed men.
Haply shall wash thy sins Forgiveness-showers;
And on thine erring head some ruth shall rain:
And prisoner shall escape despite his bonds;
And slave from thraldom freedom shall attain.”
And they ceased not to be in all solace and delight of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies. And a tale is told by Sídi Ibrahim bin Al–Khawwás1(on whom be the mercy of Allah!) concerning himself and
1 Sídi (contracted from Sayyidí = my lord) is a title still applied to holy men in Marocco and the Maghrib; on the East African coast it is assumed by negro and negroid Moslems, e.g. Sidi Mubárak Bombay; and “Seedy boy” is the Anglo–Indian term for a Zanzibar-man. “Khawwás” is one who weaves palm-leaves (Khos) into baskets, mats, etc.: here, however, it may be an inherited name.
“My spirit urged me, once upon a time, to go forth into the country of the Infidels; and I strove with it and struggled to put away from me this inclination; but it would not be rejected. So I fared forth and journeyed about the land of the Unbelievers and traversed it in all its parts; for divine grace enveloped me and heavenly protection encompassed me, so that I met not a single Nazarene but he turned away his eyes and drew off from me, till I came to a certain great city at whose gate I found a gathering of black slaves, clad in armour and bearing iron maces in their hands. When they saw me, they rose to their feet and asked me, ‘Art thou a leach?’; and I answered, ‘Yes.’ Quoth they, ‘Come speak to our King,’ and carried me before their ruler, who was a handsome personage of majestic presence. When I stood before him, he looked at me and said, ‘Art a physician, thou?’ ‘Yes,’ quoth I; and quoth he to his officers, ‘Carry him to her, and acquaint him with the condition before he enter.’ So they took me out and said to me, ‘Know that the King hath a daughter, and she is stricken with a sore disease, which no doctor hath been able to cure: and no leach goeth in to her and treateth, without healing her, but the King putteth him to death. So bethink thee what thou seest fitting to do.’ I replied, ‘The King drove me to her; so carry me to her.’ Thereupon they brought me to her door and knocked; and behold, I heard her cry out from within, saying, ‘Admit to me the physician, lord of the wondrous secret!’ And she began reciting,
‘Open the door! the leach now draweth near;
And in my soul a wondrous secret speer:
How many of the near far distant are!1
How many distant far are nearest near!
I was in strangerhood amidst you all:
But willed the Truth2 my solace should appear.
Joined us the potent bonds of Faith and Creed;
We met as dearest fere greets dearest fere:
He sued for interview whenas pursued
The spy, and blamed us envy’s jibe and jeer:
Then leave your chiding and from blame desist,
For fie upon you! not a word I’ll hear.
I care for naught that disappears and fleets;
My care’s for Things nor fleet nor disappear.’
And lo! a Shaykh, a very old man, opened the door in haste and said to me, ‘Enter.’ So I entered and found myself in a chamber strewn with sweet-scented herbs and with a curtain drawn across one corner, from behind which came a sound of groaning and grame, weak as from an emaciated frame. I sat down before the curtain and was about to offer my salam when I bethought me of his words (whom Allah save and assain!), ‘Accost not a Jew nor a Christian with the salam salutation;3 and, when ye meet them in the way, constrain them to the straitest part thereof.’ So I withheld my salutation, but she cried out from behind the curtain, saying, ‘Where is the salutation of Unity and Indivisibility, O Khawwas?’ I was astonished at her speech and asked, ‘How knowest thou me?’; whereto she answered, ‘When the heart and thoughts are whole, the tongue speaketh eloquently from the secret recesses of the soul. I begged Him yesterday to send me one of His saints, at whose hands I might have deliverance, and behold, it was cried to me from the dark places of my house, ‘Grieve not; for we soon will send thee Ibrahim the Basket-maker.’ Then I asked her, ‘What of thee?’ and she answered, ‘It is now four years since there appeared to me the Manifest Truth, and He is the Relator and the Ally, and the Uniter and the Sitter-by; whereupon my folk looked askance upon me with an evil eye and taxed me with insanity and suspected me of depravity, and there came not in to me doctor but terrified me, nor visitor but confounded me.’ Quoth I, ‘And who led thee to the knowledge of what thou wottest?’ Quoth she, ‘The manifest signs and visible portents of Allah; and, when the path is patent to thee, thou espiest with thine own eyes both proof and prover.’ Now whilst we were talking, behold, in came the old man appointed to guard her and said, ‘What doth thy doctor?’; and she replied, ‘He knoweth the hurt and hath hit upon the healing.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. in spirit; the “strangers yet” of poor dear Richard Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton.
2 Al–Hakk = the Truth, one of the ninety-nine names of Allah.
3 The Moslem is still unwilling to address Salám (Peace be with you) to the Christian, as it is obligatory (Farz) to a Moslem (Koran, chapt. iv. and lxviii.). He usually evades the difficulty by saluting the nearest Moslem or by a change of words Allah Yahdí-k (Allah direct thee to the right way) or “Peace be upon us and the righteous worshipers of Allah” (not you) or Al–Samm (for Salam) alayka = poison to thee. The idea is old: Alexander of Alexandria in his circular letter describes the Arian heretics as “men whom it is not lawful to salute or to bid God-speed.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when the Shaykh, her guardian, went in to her he said, ‘What doth thy doctor?’; and she replied, ‘He knoweth the hurt and hath hit upon the healing.’ Hereupon he manifested joy and gladness and accosted me with a cheerful countenance, then went and told the King, who enjoined to treat me with all honour and regard. So I visited her daily for seven days, at the end of which time she said to me, ‘O Abu Ishak, when shall be our flight to the land of Al–Islam?’ ‘How canst thou go forth,’ replied I, ‘and who would dare to aid thee?’ Rejoined she, ‘He who sent thee to me, driving thee as it were;’ and I observed, ‘Thou sayest sooth.’ So when the morrow dawned, we fared forth by the city-gate and all eyes were veiled from us, by commandment of Him who when He desireth aught, saith to it, ‘Be,’ and it becometh;1 so that I journeyed with her in safety to Meccah, where she made a home hard by the Holy House of Allah and lived seven years; till the appointed day of her death. The earth of Meccah was her tomb, and never saw I any more steadfast in prayer and fasting than she; Allah send down upon her His mercies and have compassion on him who saith,
‘When they to me had brought the leach (and surely showed
The signs of flowing tears and pining malady),
The face-veil he withdrew from me, and ‘neath it naught
Save breath of one unsouled, unbodied, could he see.
Quoth he, ‘This be a sickness Love alone shall cure;
Love hath a secret from all guess of man wide free.’
Quoth they, ‘An folk ignore what here there be with him
Nature of ill and eke its symptomology,
How then shall medicine work a cure?’ At this quoth I
‘Leave me alone; I have no guessing specialty.’”
And they tell a tale of
1 Koran xxxvi. 82. I have before noted that this famous phrase was borrowed from the Hebrews, who borrowed it from the Egyptians.
A certain Prophet1 made his home for worship on a lofty mountain, at whose foot was a spring of running water, and he was wont to sit by day on the summit, that no man might see him, calling upon the name of Allah the Most Highest and watching those who frequented the spring. One day, as he sat looking upon the fountain, behold, he espied a horseman who came up and dismounted thereby and taking a bag from his neck, set it down beside him, after which he drank of the water and rested awhile, then he rode away, leaving behind him the bag which contained gold pieces. Presently up came another man to drink of the spring, who saw the bag and finding it full of money took it up; then, after satisfying his thirst, he made off with it in safety. A little after came a woodcutter wight with a heavy load of fuel on his back, and sat down by the spring to drink, when lo! back came the first horseman in great trouble and asked him, “Where is the bag which was here?” and when he answered, “I know nothing of it,” the rider drew his sword and smote him and slew him. Then he searched his clothes, but found naught; so he left him and wended his ways. Now when the Prophet saw this, he said, “O Lord, one man hath taken a thousand dinars and another man hath been slain unjustly.” But Allah answered him, saying, “Busy thyself with thy devotions, for the ordinance of the universe is none of thine affair. The father of this horseman had violently despoiled of a thousand dinars the father of the second horseman; so I gave the son possession of his sire’s money. As for the woodcutter, he had slain the horseman’s father, wherefore I enabled the son to obtain retribution for himself.” Then cried the Prophet, “There is none other god than Thou! Glory be to Thee only! Verily, Thou art the Knower of Secrets.”2 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The story of Moses and Khizr has been noticed before. See Koran chapt. xviii. 64 et seq. It is also related, says Lane (ii. 642), by Al–Kazwíni in the Ajáib al-Makhlúkát. This must be “The Angel and the Hermit” in the Gesta Romanorum, Tale lxxx. which possibly gave rise to Parnell’s Hermit; and Tale cxxvii. “Of Justice and Equity.” The Editor says it “contains a beautiful lesson:” I can find only excellent excuses for “doing evil that good may come of it.”
2 Koran chapt. v.108.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Prophet was bidden by inspiration of Allah to busy himself with his devotions and learned the truth of the case, he cried, “There is none other god but Thou! Glory be to Thee only! Verily, Thou and Thou alone wottest hidden things.” Furthermore, one of the poets hath made these verses on the matter,
“The Prophet saw whatever eyes could see,
And fain of other things enquired he;
And, when his eyes saw things misunderstood,
Quoth he, ‘O Lord, this slain from sin was free.
This one hath won him wealth withouten work;
Albe appeared he garbed in penury.
And that in joy of life was slain, although
O man’s Creator free of sin he be.’
God answered ‘’Twas his father’s good thou saw’st
Him take; by heirship not by roguery;
Yon woodman too that horseman’s sire had slain;
Whose son avenged him with just victory:
Put off, O slave of Me, this thought for I
In men have set mysterious secrecy!
Bow to Our Law and humble thee, and learn
For good and evil issues Our decree.’”1
And a certain pious man hath told us the tale of
1 The doggrel is phenomenal.
“I was once a ferryman on the Nile and used to ply between the eastern and the western banks. Now one day, as I sat in my boat, there came up to me an old man of a bright and beaming countenance, who saluted me and I returned his greeting; and he said to me, ‘Wilt thou ferry me over for the love of Allah Almighty?’ I answered, ‘Yes,’ and he continued, ‘Wilt thou moreover give me food for Allah’s sake?’; to which again I answered, ‘With all my heart.’ So he entered the boat and I rowed him over to the eastern side, remarking that he was clad in a patched gown and carried a gourd-bottle and a staff. When he was about to land, he said to me, ‘I desire to lay on thee a heavy trust.’ Quoth I, ‘What is it?’ Quoth he, ‘It hath been revealed to me that my end is nearhand and that to-morrow about noon thou wilt come and find me dead under yonder tree. Wash me and wrap me in the shroud thou wilt see under my head and after thou hast prayed over me, bury me in this sandy ground and take my gown and gourd and staff, which do thou deliver to one who shall come and demand them of thee.’ I marvelled at his words, and I slept there. On the morrow I awaited till noon the event he had announced, and then I forgot what he had said till near the hour of afternoon-prayer, when I remembered it and hastening to the appointed place, found him under the tree, dead, with a new shroud under his head, exhaling a fragrance of musk. So I washed him and shrouded him and prayed over him, then dug a hole in the sand and buried him, after I had taken his ragged gown and bottle and staff, with which I crossed the Nile to the western side and there nighted. As soon as morning dawned and the city gate opened, I sighted a young man known to me as a loose fellow, clad in fine clothes and his hands stained with Henna, who said to me, ‘Art thou not such an one?’ ‘Yes,’ answered I; and he said, ‘Give me the trust.’ Quoth I, ‘What is that?’ Quoth he, ‘The gown, the gourd and the staff.’ I asked him, ‘Who told thee of them?’ and he answered, ‘I know nothing save that I spent yesternight at the wedding of one of my friends singing and carousing till daylight, when I lay me down to sleep and take my rest; and behold, there stood by me a personage who said, ‘Verily Allah Almighty hath taken such a saint to Himself and hath appointed thee to fill his place; so go thou to a certain person (naming the ferryman), and take of him the dead man’s gown and bottle and staff, for he left them with him for thee.’ So I brought them out and gave them to him; whereupon he doffed his clothes and, donning the gown, went his way and left me.1 And when the glooms closed around me, I fell a-weeping; but, that night, while sleeping I saw the Lord of Holiness (glorified and exalted be He!) in a dream saying, ‘O my servant, is it grievous to thee that I have granted to one of My servants to return to Me? Indeed, this is of My bounty, that I vouchsafe to whom I will, for I over all things am Almighty.’ So I repeated these couplets,
‘Lover with loved2 loseth will and aim!
All choice (an couldst thou know) were sinful shame.
Or grant He favour and with union grace,
Or from thee turn away, He hath no blame.
An from such turning thou no joy enjoy
Depart! the place for thee no place became.
Or canst His near discern not from His far?
Then Love’s in vain and thou’rt a-rear and lame.
If pine for Thee afflict my sprite, or men
Hale me to death, the rein Thy hand shall claim!
So turn Thee to or fro, to me ’tis one;
What Thou ordainest none shall dare defame:
My love hath naught of aim but Thine approof
And if Thou say we part I say the same.’”
And of the tales they tell is one concerning
1 He went in wonder and softened heart to see the miracle of saintly affection.
2 In Sufistical parlance, the creature is the lover and the Creator the Beloved: worldly existence is Disunion, parting, severance; and the life to come is Reunion. The basis of the idea is the human soul being a divinæ particula auræ, a disjoined molecule from the Great Spirit, imprisoned in a jail of flesh; and it is so far valuable that it has produced a grand and pathetic poetry; but Common Sense asks, Where is the proof? And Reason wants to know, What does it all mean?
There was once a notable of the Children of Israel, a man of wealth who had a pious and blessed son. When his last hour drew nigh, his son sat down at his head and said to him, “O my lord, give me an injunction.” Quoth the father, “O dear son, I charge thee, swear not by Allah or truly or falsely.” Then he died and certain lewd fellows of the Children of Israel heard of the charge he had laid on his son and began coming to the latter and saying, “Thy father had such and such monies of mine, and thou knowest it; so give me what was entrusted to him or else make oath that there was no trust.” The good son would not disobey his sire’s injunction, so gave them all they claimed; and they ceased not to deal thus with him, till his wealth was spent and he fell into straitest predicament. Now the young man had a pious and blessed wife, who had borne him two little sons; so he said to her, “The folk have multiplied their demands on me and, while I had the wherewithal to free myself of debt, I rendered it freely; but naught is now left us, and if others make demands upon me, we shall be in absolute distress, I and thou; our best way were to save ourselves by fleeing to some place, where none knoweth us, and earn our bread among the lower of the folk.” Accordingly, he took ship with her and his two children, knowing not whither he should wend; but, “When Allah judgeth, there is none to reverse His judgment;”1 and quoth the tongue of the case,
“O flier from thy home when foes affright!
Whom led to weal and happiness such flight,
Grudge not this exile when he flees abroad
Where he on wealth and welfare may alight.
An pearls for ever did abide in shell,
The kingly crown they ne’er had deckt and dight.”
The ship was wrecked, yet the man saved himself on a plank and his wife and children also saved themselves, but on other planks. The waves separated them and the wife was cast up in one country and one of the boys in another. The second son was picked up by a ship, and the surges threw the father on a desert island, where he landed and made the Wuzu-ablution. Then he called the prayer-call — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Koran xiii. 41.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the man landed upon the island, he made the Wuzu-ablution to free himself from the impurities of the sea and called the call to prayer and stood up to his devotions, when, behold, there came forth of the sea, creatures of various kinds and prayed with him. When he had finished, he went up to a tree and stayed his hunger with its fruits; after which he found a spring of water and drank thereof and praised Allah, to whom be honour and glory! He abode thus three days and whenever he stood up to pray, the sea-creatures came out and prayed in the same manner as he prayed. Now after the third day, he heard a voice crying aloud and saying, “O thou just man, and pious, who didst so honour thy father and revere the decrees of thy Lord, grieve not, for Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) shall restore to thee all which left thy hand. In this isle are hoards and monies and things of price which the Almighty willeth thou shalt inherit, and they are in such a part of this place. So bring thou them to light; and verily, we will send ships unto thee; and do thou bestow charity on the folk and bid them to thee.” So he sought out that place, and the Lord discovered to him the treasures in question. Then ships began resorting to him, and he gave abundant largesse to the crews, saying to them, “Be sure ye direct the folk unto me and I will give them such and such a thing and appoint to them this and that.” Accordingly, there came folk from all parts and places, nor had ten years passed over him ere the island was peopled and the man became its King.1 No one came to him but he entreated him with munificence, and his name was noised abroad, through the length and breadth of the earth. Now his elder son had fallen into the hands of a man who reared him and taught him polite accomplishments; and, in like manner, the younger was adopted by one who gave him a good education and brought him up in the ways of merchants. The wife also happened upon a trader who entrusted to her his property and made a covenant with her that he would not deal dishonestly by her, but would aid her to obey Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!); and he used to make her the companion of his voyages and his travels. Now the elder son heard the report of the King and resolved to visit him, without knowing who he was; so he went to him and was well received by the King, who made him his secretary. Presently the other son heard of the King’s piety and justice and was also taken into his service as a steward. Then the brothers abode awhile, neither knowing the other, till it chanced that the merchant, in whose home was their mother, also hearing of the King’s righteous and generous dealing with the lieges, freighted a ship with rich stuffs and other excellent produce of the land, and taking the woman with him, set sail for the island. He made it in due course and landing, presented himself with his gift before the King; who rejoiced therein with exceeding joy and ordered him a splendid return-present. Now, there were, among the gifts, certain aromatic roots of which he would have the merchant acquaint him with the names and uses; so he said to him, “Abide with us this night.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Robinson Crusoe, with a touch of Arab prayerfulness. Also the story of the Knight Placidus in the Gesta (cx.), Boccaccio, etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King said, “Abide with us this night,” the merchant replied, “We have in the ship one to whom I have promised to entrust the care of her to none save myself; and the same is a holy woman whose prayers have brought me weal and I have felt the blessing of her counsels.” Rejoined the King, “I will send her some trusty men, who shall pass the night in the ship and guard her and all that is with her.” The merchant agreed to this and abode with the King, who called his secretary and steward and said to them, “Go and pass the night in this man’s ship and keep it safe, Inshallah!” So they went up into the ship and seating themselves, this on the poop and that on the bow, passed a part of the night in repeating the names of Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!). Then quoth one to the other, “Ho, such an one! The King bade us keep watch and I fear lest sleep overtake us; so, come, let us discourse of stories of fortune and of the good we have seen and the trials of life.” Quoth the other, “O my brother, as for my trials Fate parted me from my mother and a brother of mine, whose name was even as thine; and the cause of our parting was this. My father took ship with us from such a place, and the winds rose against us and were contrary, so that the ship was wrecked and Allah broke our fair companionship.” Hearing this the first asked, “What was the name of thy mother, O my brother?”; and the second answered, “So and so.” Thereat brother threw himself upon brother saying, “By Allah, thou art my very brother!” And each fell to telling the other what had befallen him in his youth, whilst the mother heard all they said, but held her peace and in patience possessed her soul. Now when it was morning, one said to the other, “Come, brother, let us go to my lodging and talk there;” and the other said, “’Tis well.” So they went away and presently, the merchant came back and finding the woman in great trouble, said to her, “What hath befallen thee and why this concern?” Quoth she, “Thou sentest to me yesternight men who tempted me to evil, and I have been in sore annoy with them.” At this, he was wroth and, repairing to the King, reported the conduct of his two trusty wights. The King summoned the twain forthwith, as he loved them for their fidelity and piety; and, sending for the woman, that he might hear from her own lips what she had to say against them, thus bespake her, “O woman, what hath betided thee from these two men in whom I trust?” She replied, “O King, I conjure thee by the Almighty, the Bountiful One, the Lord of the Empyrean, bid them repeat the words they spoke yesternight.” So he said to them, “Say what ye said and conceal naught thereof.” Accordingly, they repeated their talk, and lo! the King rising from his throne, gave a great cry and threw himself upon them, embracing them and saying, “By Allah, ye are my very sons!” Therewith the woman unveiled her face and said, “And by Allah, I am their very mother.” So they were united and abode in all solace of life and its delight till death parted them; and so glory be to Him who delivereth His servant when he restoreth to Him, and disappointeth not his hope in Him and his trust! And how well saith the poet on the subject,
“Each thing of things hath his appointed tide
When ’tis, O brother, granted or denied.
Repine not an affliction hit thee hard;
For woe and welfare aye conjoint abide:
How oft shall woman see all griefs surround
Yet feel a joyance thrill what lies inside!
How many a wretch, on whom the eyes of folk
Look down, shall grace exalt to pomp and pride!
This man is one long suffering grief and woe;
Whom change and chance of Time hath sorely tried:
The World divided from what held he dearest,
After long union scattered far and wide;
But deigned his Lord unite them all again,
And in the Lord is every good descried.
Glory to Him whose Providence rules all
Living, as surest proofs for us decide.
Near is the Near One; but no wisdom clearer
Shows him, nor distant wayfare brings Him nearer.”
And this tale is told of
“I had been many times to Meccah (Allah increase its honour!) and the folk used to follow me for my knowledge of the road and remembrance of the water-stations. It happened one year that I was minded to make the pilgrimage to the Holy House and visitation of the Tomb of His Prophet (on whom be blessing and peace!) and I said in myself, ‘I well know the way and will fare alone.’ So I set out and journeyed till I came to Al–Kadisíyah2 and, entering the mosque there, saw a man suffering from black leprosy seated in the prayer-niche. Quoth he on seeing me, ‘O Abu al-Hasan, I crave thy company to Meccah.’ Quoth I to myself, ‘I fled from all my companions, and how shall I company with lepers?’ So I said to him, ‘I will bear no man company’; and he was silent at my words. Next day I walked on alone, till I came to Al–Akabah,3 where I entered the mosque and found the leper seated in the prayer-niche. So I said to myself, ‘Glory be to Allah! how hath this fellow preceded me hither?’ But he raised his head to me and said with a smile, ‘O Abu al-Hasan, He doth for the weak that which surpriseth the strong!’ I passed that night confounded at what I had seen; and, as soon as morning dawned, set out again by myself; but when I came to Arafat4 and entered the mosque, behold, there was the leper seated in the niche! So I threw myself upon him and kissing his feet said, ‘O my lord, I crave thy company.’ But he answered, ‘This may in no way be.’ Then I began weeping and wailing at the loss of his converse, when he said, ‘Spare thy tears which will avail thee naught!’”-And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arabs note two kinds of leprosy, “Bahak” or “Baras” the common or white, and “Juzam” the black leprosy; the leprosy of the joints, mal rouge. Both are attributed to undue diet as eating fish and drinking milk; and both are treated with tonics, especially arsenic. Leprosy is regarded by Moslems as a Scriptural malady on account of its prevalence amongst the Israelites who, as Manetho tells us, were expelled from Egypt because they infected and polluted the population. In mediæval Christendom an idea prevailed that the Saviour was a leper; hence the term “morbus sacer”; the honours paid to the sufferers by certain Saints and the Papal address (Clement III. A.D.1189) dilectis filiis leprosis. (Farrar’s Life of Christ, i.149.) For the “disgusting and impetuous lust” caused by leprosy, see Sonnini (p.560) who visited the lepers at Canea in Candia. He is one of many who describes this symptom; but in the Brazil, where the foul malady still prevails, I never heard of it.
2 A city in Irak; famous for the three days’ battle which caused the death of Yezdegird, last Sassanian king.
3 A mountain pass near Meccah famous for the “First Fealty of the Steep” (Pilgrimage ii. 126). The mosque was built to commemorate the event.
4 To my surprise I read in Mr. Redhouse’s “Mesnevi” (Trubner, 1881), “Arafat, the mount where the victims are slaughtered by the pilgrims.” (p.60). This ignorance is phenomenal. Did Mr. Redhouse never read Burckhardt or Burton?
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu al-Hasan continued: “Now when I saw the leper-man seated in the prayer-niche, I threw myself upon him and said, ‘O my lord, I crave thy company;’ and fell to kissing his feet. But he answered, ‘This may in no way be!’ Then I began weeping and wailing at the loss of his company when he said, ‘Spare thy tears which will avail thee naught!’; and he recited these couplets,
‘Why dost thou weep when I depart and thou didst parting claim;
And cravest union when we ne’er shall reunite the same?
Thou lookedest on nothing save my weakness and disease;
And saidst ‘Nor goes nor comes, or night or day, this sickly frame.
Seest not how Allah (glorified His glory ever be!)
Deigneth to grant His slave’s petition wherewithal he came.
If I, to eyes of men be that and only that they see,
And this my body show itself so full of grief and grame,
And have I naught of food that shall supply me to the place
Where crowds unto my Lord resort impelled by single aim,
I have a high Creating Lord whose mercies aye are hid;
A Lord who hath none equal and no fear is known to Him.
So fare thee safe and leave me lone in strangerhood to wone
For He, the only One, consoles my loneliness so lone.’
Accordingly, I left him; but every station I came to, I found he had foregone me, till I reached Al–Medinah, where I lost sight of him and could hear no tidings of him. Here I met Abu Yazíd al-Bustámi and Abu Bakr al-Shibli and a number of other Shaykhs and learned men, to whom with many complaints, I told my case and they said, ‘Heaven forbid that thou shouldst gain his company after this! He was Abu Ja’afar the leper, in whose name folk at all times pray for rain and by whose blessing-prayers their end attain.’ When I heard their words, my desire for his company redoubled and I implored the Almighty to reunite me with him. Whilst I was standing on Arafat,1 one pulled me from behind, so I turned and behold, it was my man. At this sight I cried out with a loud cry and fell down in a fainting fit; but, when I came to myself he had disappeared from my sight. This increased my yearning for him and the ceremonies were tedious to me and I prayed Almighty Allah to give me sight of him; nor was it but a few days after, when lo! one pulled me from behind, and I turned and it was he again. Thereupon he said, ‘Come, I conjure thee and ask thy want of me.’ So I begged him to pray for me three prayers; first, that Allah would make me love poverty; secondly, that I might never lie down at night upon provision assured to me; and thirdly, that He would vouchsafe me to look upon His bountiful Face. So he prayed for me as I wished, and departed from me. And indeed Allah hath granted me what the devotee asked in prayer: to begin with He hath made me so love poverty that, by the Almighty! there is naught in the world dearer to me than it, and secondly since such a year, I have never lain down to sleep upon assured provision; withal hath He never let me lack aught. As for the third prayer, I trust that He will vouchsafe me that also, even as He hath granted the two precedent, for right Bountiful and Beneficent is His Godhead, and Allah have mercy on him who said:2-
Garb of Fakir, renouncement, lowliness;
His robe of tatters and of rags his dress;
And pallor ornamenting brow as though
’Twere wanness such as waning crescents show.
Wasted him prayer a-through the long-lived night,
And flooding tears ne’er cease to dim his sight.
Memory of Him shall cheer his lonely room:
Th’ Almighty nearest is in nightly gloom.
The Refuge helpeth such Fakir in need;
Help e’en the cattle and the winged breed:
Allah for sake of him of wrath is fain,
And for the grace of him shall fall the rain;
And if he pray one day for plague to stay,
’Twill stay, and ‘bate man’s wrong and tyrants slay.
While folk are sad, afflicted one and each,
He in his mercy’s rich, the generous leach:
Bright shines his brow; an thou regard his face
Thy heart illumined shines by light of grace.
O thou who shunnest souls of worth innate
Departs thee (woe to thee!) of sins the weight.
Thou thinkest to overtake them, while thou bearest
Follies, which slay thee whatso way thou farest.
Didst wot their worth thou hadst all honour showed,
And tears in streamlets from thine eyes had flowed.
To catarrh-troubled men flowers lack their smell;
And brokers ken for how much clothes can sell;
So haste and with thy Lord reunion sue,
And haply Fate shall lend thee aidance due,
Rest from rejection and estrangement-stress,
And Joy thy wish and will shall choicely bless.
His court wide open for the suer is dight:—
One, very God, the Lord, th’ Almighty might.’”
And they also tell a tale of
There was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, a Grecian sage called Daniel, who had disciples and scholars and the wise men of Greece were obedient to his bidding and relied upon his learning. Withal had Allah denied him a man child. One night, as he lay musing and weeping over the lack of a son who might inherit his lore, he bethought him that Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) heareth the prayer of those who resort to Him and that there is no doorkeeper at the door of His bounties and that He favoureth whom He will without compt and sendeth no supplicant empty away; nay He filleth their hands with favours and benefits. So he besought the Almighty, the Bountiful, to vouchsafe him a son to succeed him, and to endow him abundantly with His beneficence. Then he returned home and carnally knew his wife who conceived by him the same night. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This long story, containing sundry episodes and occupying fifty-three Nights, is wholly omitted by Lane (ii. 643) because “it is a compound of the most extravagant absurdities.” He should have enabled his readers to form their own judgment.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Grecian sage returned home and knew his wife who conceived by him the same night. A few days after this he took ship for a certain place, but the ship was wrecked and he saved himself on one of her planks, while only five leaves remained to him of all the books he had. When he returned home, he laid the five leaves in a box and locking it, gave the key to his wife (who then showed big with child), and said to her, “Know that my decease is at hand and that the time draweth nigh for my translation from this abode temporal to the home which is eternal. Now thou art with child and after my death wilt haply bear a son: if this be so, name him Hásib Karím al-Dín1 and rear him with the best of rearing. When the boy shall grow up and shall say to thee, ‘What inheritance did my father leave me?’’ give him these five leaves, which when he shall have read and understood, he will be the most learned man of his time.” Then he farewelled her and heaving one sigh, departed the world and all that is therein — the mercy of Allah the Most Highest be upon Him! His family and friends wept over him and washed him and bore him forth in great state and buried him; after which they wended their ways home. But few days passed ere his widow bare a handsome boy and named him Hasib Karim al-Din, as her husband charged her; and immediately after his birth she summoned the astrologers, who calculated his ascendants and drawing his horoscope, said to her, “Know, O woman! that this birth will live many a year; but that will be after a great peril in the early part of his life, wherefrom can he escape, he will be given the knowledge of all the exact sciences.” So saying they went their ways. She suckled him two years,2 then weaned him, and when he was five years old, she placed him in a school to learn his book, but he would read nothing. So she took him from school and set him to learn a trade; but he would not master any craft and there came no work from his hands. The mother wept over this and the folk said to her, “Marry him: haply he will take heart for his wife and learn him a trade.” So she sought out a girl and married him to her; but, despite marriage and the lapse of time, he remained idle as before, and would do nothing. One day, some neighbours of hers, who were woodcutters, came to her and said, “Buy thy son an ass and cords and an axe and let him go with us to the mountain and we will all of us cut wood for fuel. The price of the wood shall be his and ours, and he shall provide thee and his wife with his share.” When she heard this, she joyed with exceeding joy and bought her son an ass and cords and hatchet; then, carrying him to the woodcutters, delivered him into their hands and solemnly committed him to their care. Said they, “Have no concern for the boy, our Lord will provide for him: he is the son of our Shaykh.” So they carried him to the mountain, where they cut firewood and loaded their asses therewith; then returned to the city and, selling what they had cut, spent the monies on their families. This they did on the next day and the third and ceased not for some time, till it chanced one day, a violent storm of rain broke over them, and they took refuge in a great cave till the downfall should pass away. Now Hasib Karim al-Din went apart from the rest into a corner of the cavern and sitting down, fell to smiting the floor with his axe. Presently he noted that the ground sounded hollow under the hatchet; so he dug there awhile and came to a round flagstone with a ring in it. When he saw this, he was glad and called his comrades the woodcutters — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Called Jamasp (brother and minister of the ancient Persian King Gushtasp) in the translations of Trebutien and others from Von Hammer.
2 The usual term of lactation in the East, prolonged to two years and a-half, which is considered the rule laid down by the Shara’ or precepts of the Prophet. But it is not unusual to see children of three and even four years hanging to their mothers’ breasts. During this period the mother does not cohabit with her husband; the separation beginning with her pregnancy. Such is the habit, not only of the “lower animals,” but of all ancient peoples, the Egyptians (from whom the Hebrews borrowed it), the Assyrians and the Chinese. I have discussed its bearing upon pregnancy in my “City of the Saints”: the Mormons insist upon this law of purity being observed; and the beauty, strength and good health of the younger generation are proofs of their wisdom.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasib Karim al-Din saw the flagstone with the ring, he was glad and called his comrades the woodcutters, who came to him and, finding it was fact, soon pulled up the stone and discovered under it a trap-door, which, being opened, showed a cistern full of bees’ honey.1 Then said they to one another, “This is a large store and we have nothing for it but to return to the city and fetch vessels wherein to carry away the honey, and sell it and divide the price, whilst one of us stands by the cistern, to guard it from outsiders.” Quoth Hasib, “I will stay and keep watch over it till you bring your pots and pans.” So they left him on guard there and, repairing to the city, fetched vessels, which they filled with honey and loading their asses therewith, carried them to the streets and sold the contents. They returned on the morrow and thus they did several days in succession, sleeping in the town by night and drawing off the stuff by day, whilst Hasib abode on guard by it till but little remained, when they said one to other, “It was Hasib Karim al-Din found the honey, and tomorrow he will come down to the city and complain against us and claim the price of it, saying, Twas I found it;’ nor is there escape for us but that we let him down into the cistern, to bale out the rest of the honey, and leave him there; so will he die of hunger, and none shall know of him.” They all fell in with this plot as they were making for the place; and, when they reached it, one said to him, “O Hasib, go down into the pit and bale out for us the rest of the honey.” So he went down and passed up to them what remained of the honey, after which he said to them, “Draw me up, for there is nothing left.” They made him no answer; but, loading their asses, went off to the city and left him alone in the cistern. Thereupon he fell to weeping and crying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Such was his case; but as regards his comrades, when they reached the city and sold the honey, they repaired to Hasib’s mother, weeping, and said to her, “May thy head outlive thy son Hasib!” She asked, “What brought about his death?” and they answered, “We were cutting wood on the mountain-top, when there fell on us a heavy downfall of rain and we took shelter from it in a cavern; and suddenly thy son’s ass broke loose and fled into the valley, and he ran after it, to turn it back, when there came out upon them a great wolf, who tore thy son in pieces and ravined the ass.” When the mother heard this, she beat her face and strewed dust on her head and fell to mourning for her son; and she kept life and soul together only by the meat and drink which they brought her every day. As for the woodcutters they opened them shops and became merchants and spent their lives in eating and drinking and laughing and frolicking. Meanwhile Hasib Karim al-Din, who ceased not to weep and call for help, sat down upon the cistern edge when behold, a great scorpion fell down on him; so he rose and killed it. Then he took thought and said, “The cistern was full of honey; how came this scorpion here?” Accordingly he got up and examined the well right and left, till he found a crevice from which the scorpion had fallen and saw the light of day shining through it. So he took out his woodman’s knife and enlarged the hole, till it was big as a window, then he crept through it and, after walking for some time, came to a vast gallery, which led him to a huge door of black iron bearing a padlock of silver wherein was a key of gold. He stole up to the door and, looking through the chink, saw a great light shining within; so he took the key and, opening the door, went on for some time, till he came to a large artificial lake, wherein he caught sight of something that shimmered like silver. He walked up to it and at last he saw, hard by a hillock of green jasper and on the hill top, a golden throne studded with all manner gems — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Thus distinguishing it from “Asal-kasab,” cane honey or sugar. See vol. i., 271.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasib reached the hillock he found it of green jasper surmounted by a golden throne studded with all manner gems, round which were set many stools, some of gold, some of silver and others of leek green emerald. He clomb the hillock and, counting the stools, found them twelve thousand in number; then he mounted the throne which was set on the centre and, seating himself thereon, fell to wondering at the lake and the stools, and he marvelled till drowsiness overcame him and he drops asleep. Presently, he was aroused by a loud snorting and hissing and rustling, so he opened his eyes; and, sitting up, saw each stool occupied by a huge serpent, an hundred cubits in length. At this sight, great fear get hold of him; his spittle dried up for the excess of his dread and he despaired of life, as all their eyes were blazing like live coals. Then he turned towards the lake and saw that what he had taken for shimmering water was a multitude of small snakes, none knoweth their compt save Allah the Most High. After awhile, there came up to him a serpent as big as a mule, bearing on its back a tray of gold, wherein lay another serpent which shone like crystal and whose face was as that of a woman1 and who spake with human speech. And as soon as she was brought up to Hasib, she saluted him and he returned the salutation. There upon, one of the serpents seated on the stools came up and, lifting her off the tray, set her on one of the seats and she cried out to the other serpents in their language, whereupon they all fell down from their stools and did her homage. But she signed to them to sit and they did so. Then she addressed Hasib, saying, “Have no fear of us, O youth; for I am the Queen of the Serpents and their Sultánah.” When he heard her speak on this wise, he took heart and she bade the serpents bring him somewhat of food.2 So they brought apples and grapes and pomegranates and pistachio-nuts and filberts and walnuts and almonds and bananas and set them before him, and the Queen-serpent said, “Welcome, O youth! What is thy name?” Answered he, “Hasib Karim al-Din;” and she rejoined, “O Hasib, eat of these fruits, for we have no other meat and fear thou have nothing from us at all.” Hearing this, he ate his fill and praised Allah Almighty; and presently they took away the trays from before him, and the Queen said, “Tell me, O Hasib, whence thou art and how camest thou hither and what hath befallen thee.” So he told her his story from first to last, the death of his father; his birth; his being sent to school where he learnt nothing; his becoming a wood cutter; his finding the honey- cistern; his being abandoned therein; his killing the scorpion; his widening the crevice; his finding the iron door and his coming upon the Queen, and he ended his long tale with saying, “These be my adventures from beginning to end and only Allah wotteth what will betide me after all this!” Quoth the Queen, after listening to his words, “Nothing save good shall betide thee:”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The student of Hinduism will remember the Nága-Kings and Queens (Melusines and Echidnæ) who guard the earth-treasures in Naga-land. The first appearance of the snake in literature is in Egyptian hieroglyphs, where he forms the letters f and t, and acts as a determinative in the shape of a Cobra di Capello (Coluber Naja) with expanded hood.
2 In token that he was safe.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Serpent-queen had heard his story she said, “Nothing save good shall betide thee: but I would have thee, O Hasib, abide with me some time, that I may tell thee my history and acquaint thee with the wondrous adventures which have happened to me.” “I hear and obey thy hest,” answered he; and she began to tell in these words,
“Know thou, O Hasib, there was once in the city of Cairo a King of the Banu Isra’íl, a wise and a pious, who was bent double by poring over books of learning, and he had a son named Bulúkiyá. When he grew old and weak and was nigh upon death, his Grandees and Officers of state came up to salute him, and he said to them, ‘O folk, know that at hand is the hour of my march from this world to the next, and I have no charge to lay on you, save to commend to your care my son Bulukiya.’ Then said he, ‘I testify that there is no god save the God;’ and, heaving one sigh, departed the world the mercy of Allah be upon him! They laid him out and washed him and buried him with a procession of great state. Then they made his son Bulukiya Sultan in his stead; and he ruled the kingdom justly and the people had peace in his time. Now it befell one day that he entered his father’s treasuries, to look about him, and coming upon an inner compartment and finding the semblance of a door, opened it and passed in. And lo! he found himself in a little closet, wherein stood a column of white marble, on the top of which was a casket of ebony; he opened this also and saw therein another casket of gold, containing a book. He read the book and found in it an account of our lord Mohammed (whom Allah bless and preserve!) and how he should be sent in the latter days1 and be the lord of the first Prophets and the last. On seeing the personal description Bulukiya’s heart was taken with love of him, so he at once assembled all the notables of the Children of Israel, the Cohens or diviners, the scribes and the priests, and acquainted them with the book, reading portions of it to them and, adding, ‘O folk, needs must I bring my father out of his grave and burn him.’ The lieges asked, ‘Why wilt thou burn him?’; and he answered, ‘Because he hid this book from me and imparted it not to me.’ Now the old King had excerpted it from the Torah or Pentateuch and the Books of Abraham; and had set it in one of his treasuries and concealed it from all living. Rejoined they, ‘O King, thy father is dead; his body is in the dust and his affair is in the hands of his Lord; thou shalt not take him forth of his tomb.’ So he knew that they would not suffer him to do this thing by his sire and leaving them he repaired to his mother, to whom said he, ‘O my mother, I have found, in one of my father’s treasuries, a book containing a description of Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!), a prophet who shall be sent in the latter days; and my heart is captivated with love of him. Wherefore am I resolved to wander over the earth, till I foregather with him; else I shall die of longing for his love.’ Then he doffed his clothes and donned an Aba gown of goat’s hair and coarse sandals, saying, ‘O my mother, forget me not in thy prayers.’ She wept over him and said, ‘What will become of us after thee?’; but Bulukiya answered, ‘I can endure no longer, and I commit my affair and thine to Allah who is Almighty.’ Then he set out on foot Syria wards without the knowledge of any of his folk, and coming to the sea board found a vessel whereon he shipped as one of the crew. They sailed till he made an island, where Bulukiya landed with the crew, but straying away from the rest he sat down under a tree and sleep got the better of him. When he awoke, he sought the ship but found that she had set sail without him, and in that island he saw serpents as big as camels and palm trees, which repeated the names of Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) and blessed Mohammed (whom the Lord assain and save!), proclaiming the Unity and glorifying the Glorious; whereat he wondered.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “Akhir al-Zamán.” As old men praise past times, so prophets prefer to represent themselves as the last. The early Christians caused much scandal amongst the orderly law-loving Romans by their wild and mistaken predictions of the end of the world being at hand. The catastrophe is a fact for each man under the form of death; but the world has endured for untold ages and there is no apparent cause why it should not endure as many more. The “latter days,” as the religious dicta of most “revelations” assure us, will be richer in sinners than in sanctity: hence “End of Time” is a facetious Arab title for a villain of superior quality. My Somali escort applied it to one thus distinguished: in 1875, I heard at Aden that he ended life by the spear as we had all predicted.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when Bulukiya saw the serpents glorifying God and proclaiming the Unity, he wondered with extreme wonder. When they saw him, they flocked to him and one of them said to him, ‘Who and whence art thou and whither goest thou. and what is thy name?’ Quoth he, ‘My name is Bulukiya; I am of the Children of Israel and, being distracted for love of Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!), I come in quest of him. But who are ye, O noble creatures?’ Answered they, ‘We are of the dwellers in the Jahannam-hell; and Almighty Allah created us for the punishment of Kafirs.’ ‘And how came ye hither?’ asked he, and the Serpents answered, ‘Know, O Bulukiya, that Hell1 of the greatness of her boiling, breatheth twice a year, expiring in the summer and inspiring in the winter, and hence the summer heat and winter cold. When she exhaleth, she casteth us forth of her maw, and we are drawn in again with her inhaled breath.’ Quoth Bulukiya, ‘Say me, are there greater serpents than you in Hell?’; and they said, ‘Of a truth we are cast out with the expired breath but by reason of our smallness; for in Hell every serpent is so great, that were the biggest of us to pass over its nose it would not feel us.2’ Asked Bulukiya, ‘Ye sing the praises of Allah and invoke blessings on Mohammed, whom the Almighty assain and save! Whence wot ye of Mohammed?’; and they answered, ‘O Bulukiya, verily his name is written on the gates of Paradise; and, but for him, Allah had not created the worlds3 nor Paradise, nor heaven nor hell nor earth, for He made all things that be, solely on his account, and hath conjoined his name with His own in every place; wherefore we love Mohammed, whom Allah bless and preserve!’ Now hearing the serpents’ converse did but inflame Bulukiya’s love for Mohammed and yearning for his sight; so he took leave of them; and, making his way to the sea-shore, found there a ship made fast to the beach; he embarked therein as a seaman and sailed nor ceased sailing till he came to another island. Here he landed and walking about awhile found serpents great and small, none knoweth their number save Almighty Allah, and amongst them a white Serpent, clearer than crystal, seated in a golden tray borne on the back of another serpent as big as an elephant. Now this, O Hasib, was the Serpent-queen, none other than myself.” Quoth Hasib, “And what answer didst thou make him?” Quoth she, “Know, O Hasib, that when I saw Bulukiya, I saluted him with the salam, and he returned my salutation, and I said to him, ‘Who and what art thou and what is thine errand and whence comest thou and whither goest thou?’ Answered he, ‘I am of the Children of Israel; my name is Bulukiya, and I am a wanderer for the love of Mohammed, whose description I have read in the revealed scriptures, and of whom I go in search. But what art thou and what are these serpents about thee?’ Quoth I, ‘O Bulukiya, I am the Queen of the Serpents; and when thou shalt foregather with Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!) bear him my salutation.’ Then Bulukiya took leave of me and journeyed till he came to the Holy City which is Jerusalem. Now there was in that stead a man who was deeply versed in all sciences, more especially in geometry and astronomy and mathematics, as well as in white magic4 and Spiritualism; and he had studied the Pentateuch and the Evangel and the Psalms and the Books of Abraham. His name was Affan; and he had found in certain of his books, that whoso should wear the seal ring of our lord Solomon, men and Jinn and birds and beasts and all created things would be bound to obey him. Moreover, he had discovered that our lord Solomon had been buried in a coffin which was miraculously transported beyond the Seven Seas to the place of burial;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Jahannam and the other six Hells are personified as feminine; and (woman-like) they are somewhat addicted to prolix speechification.
2 These puerile exaggerations are fondly intended to act as nurses frighten naughty children.
3 Alluding to an oft-quoted saying “Lau lá-ka, etc. Without thee (O Mohammed) We (Allah) had not created the spheres,” which may have been suggested by “Before Abraham was, I am” (John viii. 58); and by Gate xci. of Zoroastrianism “O Zardusht for thy sake I have created the world” (Dabistan i. 344). The sentiment is by no means “Shi’ah,” as my learned friend Prof. Aloys Springer supposes. In his Mohammed (p. 220) we find an extract from a sectarian poet, “For thee we dispread the earth; for thee we caused the waters to flow; for thee we vaulted the heavens.” As Baron Alfred von Kremer, another learned and experienced Orientalist, reminds me, the “Shi’ahs” have always shown a decided tendency to this kind of apotheosis and have deified or quasi-deified Ali and the Imams. But the formula is first found in the highly orthodox Burdah poem of Al–Busiri:—
“But for him (Lau lá-hu) the world had never come out of nothingness.”
Hence it has been widely diffused. See Les Aventures de Kamrup (pp. 146–7) and Les Œuvres de Wali (pp. 51–52), by M. Garcin de Tassy and the Dabistan (vol. i. pp. 2–3).
4 Arab. “Símiyá” from the Pers., a word apparently built on the model of “Kámiyá” = alchemy, and applied, I have said, to fascination, minor miracles and white magic generally like the Hindu “Indrajal.” The common term for Alchemy is Ilm al-Káf (the K-science) because it is not safe to speak of it openly as Alchemy.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Affan had found in certain books that none, mortal or spirit, could pluck the seal ring from the lord Solomon’s finger; and that no navigator could sail his ship upon the Seven Seas over which the coffin had been carried. Moreover, he had found out by reading that there was a herb of herbs and that if one express its juice and anoint therewith his feet, he should walk upon the surface of any sea that Allah Almighty had created without wetting his soles, but none could obtain this herb, without he had with him the Serpent-queen. When Bulukiya arrived at the Holy City, he at once sat down to do his devotions and worship the Lord; and, whilst he was so doing, Affan came up and saluted him as a True Believer. Then seeing him reading the Pentateuch and adoring the Almighty, he accosted him saying, ‘What is thy name, O man; and whence comest thou and whither goest thou?’ He answered, ‘My name is Bulukiya; I am from the city of Cairo and am come forth wandering in quest of Mohammed, whom Allah bless and preserve!’ Quoth Affan, ‘Come with me to my lodging that I may entertain thee.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ replied Bulukiya So the devotee took him by the hand and carried him to his house where he entreated him with the utmost honour and presentry said to him, ‘Tell me thy history, O my brother, and how thou camest by the knowledge of Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!) that thy heart hath been taken with love of him and compelled thee to fare forth and seek him; and lastly tell me who it was directed thee in this road.’ So he related to him his tale in its entirety; whereupon Affan, who well nigh lost his wits for wonder, said to him, ‘Make tryst for me with the Queen of the Serpents and I will bring thee in company with Mohammed, albeit the date of his mission is yet far distant. We have only to prevail upon the Queen and carry her in a cage to a certain mountain where the herbs grow; and, as long as she is with us, the plants as we pass them will parley with human speech and discover their virtues by the ordinance of Allah the Most High. For I have found in my books that there is a certain herb and all who express its juice and anoint therewith their feet shall walk upon whatsoever sea Almighty Allah hath made, without wetting sole. When we have found the magical herb, we will let her go her way; and then will we anoint our feet with the juice and cross the Seven Seas, till we come to the burial place of our lord Solomon. Then we will take the ring off his finger and rule even as he ruled and win all our wishes; we will enter the Main of Murks1 and drink of the Water of Life, and so the Almighty will let us tarry till the End of Time and we shall foregather with Mohammed, whom Allah bless and preserve!’ Hearing these words Bulukiya replied, ‘O Affan, I will make tryst for thee with the Serpent-queen and at once show thee her abiding place.’ So Affan made him a cage of iron; and, providing himself with two bowls, one full of wine and the other of milk, took ship with Bulukiya and sailed till they came to the island, where they landed and walked upon it. Then Affan set up the cage, in which he laid a noose and withdrew after placing in it the two bowls; when he and Bulukiya concealed themselves afar off. Presently, up came the Queen of the Serpents (that is, myself) and examined the cage. When she (that is I) smelt the savour of the milk, she came down from the back of the snake which bore her tray and, entering the cage, drank up the milk. Then she went to the bowl of wine and drank of it, whereupon her head became giddy and she slept. When Affan saw this, he ran up and locking the cage upon her, set it on his head and made for the ship, he and Bulukiya. After awhile she awoke and finding herself in a cage of iron on a man’s head and seeing Bulukiya walking beside the bearer, said to him, ‘This is the reward of those who do no hurt to the sons of Adam.’ Answered he, ‘O Queen, have no fear of us, for we will do thee no hurt at all. We wish thee only to show us the herb which, when pounded and squeezed yieldeth a juice, and this rubbed upon the feet conferreth the power of walking dryshod upon what sea soever Almighty Allah hath created; and when we have found that, we will return thee to thy place and let thee wend thy way.’ Then Affan and Bulukiya fared on for the hills where grew the herbs; and, as they went about with the Queen, each plant they passed began to speak and avouch its virtues by permission of Allah the Most High. As they were thus doing and the herbs speaking right and left, behold, a plant spoke out and said, ‘I am the herb ye seek, and all who gather and crush me and anoint their feet with my juice, shall fare over what sea soever Allah Almighty hath created and yet ne’er wet sole.’ When Affan heard this, he set down the cage from his head and, gathering what might suffice them of the herb, crushed it and filling two vials with the juice kept them for future use; and with what was left they anointed their feet. Then they took up the Serpent-queen’s cage and journeyed days and nights, till they reached the island, where they opened the cage and let out her that is me. When I found myself at liberty, I asked them what use they would make of the juice; and they answered, ‘We design to anoint our feet and to cross the Seven Seas to the burial place of our lord Solomon2 and take the seal ring from his finger.’ Quoth I, ‘Far, far is it from your power to possess yourselves of the ring!’ They enquired, ‘Wherefore?’ and I replied, ‘Because Almighty Allah vouchsafed unto our lord Solomon the gift of this ring and distinguished him thereby, for that he said to him, ‘O Lord, give me a kingdom which may not be obtained after me; for Thou verily art the Giver of kingdoms.3’ ‘So that ring is not for you.’ And I added, ‘Had ye twain taken the herb, whereof all who eat shall not die until the First Blast,4 it had better availed you than this ye have gotten; for ye shall nowise come at your desire thereby.’ Now when they heard this, they repented them with exceeding penitence and went their ways.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Mare Tenebrarum = Sea of Darknesses; usually applied to the “mournful and misty Atlantic.”
2 Some Moslems hold that Solomon and David were buried in Jerusalem, others on the shore of Lake Tiberias. Mohammed, according to the history of Al–Tabari (p. 56 vol. i. Duleux’s “Chronique de Tabari”) declares that the Jinni bore Solomon’s corpse to a palace hewn in the rock upon an island surrounded by a branch of the “Great Sea” and set him on a throne, with his ring still on his finger, under a guard of twelve Jinns. “None hath looked upon the tomb save only two, Affan who took Bulukiya as his companion: with extreme pains they arrived at the spot, and Affan was about to carry off the ring when a thunderbolt consumed him. So Bulukiya returned.”
3 Koran xxxviii. 34, or, “art the liberal giver.”
4 i.e. of the last trumpet blown by the Archangel Israfil: an idea borrowed from the Christians. Hence the title of certain churches — ad Tubam.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when Bulukiya and Affan heard these words, they repented them with exceeding penitence and went their ways. Such was their case; but as regards myself” (continued the Serpent-queen) “I went in quest of my host and found it fallen in piteous case, the stronger of them having grown weak in my absence and the weaker having died. When they saw me, they rejoiced and flocking about me, asked, ‘What hath befallen thee, and where hast thou been?’ So I told them what had passed, after which I gathered my forces to “ether and repaired with them to the mountain Kaf, where I was wont to winter, summer-freshing in the place where thou now seest me, O Hasib Karim al-Din. This, then, is my story and what befell me.” Thereupon Hasib marvelled at her words and said to her, “I beseech thee, of thy favour, bid one of thy guards bear me forth to the surface of the earth, that I may go to my people.” She replied, “O Hasib, thou shalt not have leave to depart from us till winter come, and needs must thou go with us to the Mountain Kaf and solace thyself with the sight of the hills and sands and trees and birds magnifying the One God, the Victorious; and look upon Marids and Ifrits and Jinn, whose number none knoweth save Almighty Allah.” When Hasib heard this, he was sore chafed and chagrined: then he said to her, “Tell me of Affan and Bulukiya; when they departed from thee and went their way, did they cross the Seven Seas and reach the burial-place of our lord Solomon or not; and if they did had they power to take the ring or not?” Answered she, “Know, that when they left me, they anointed their feet with the juice; and, walking over the water, fared on from sea to sea, diverting themselves with the wonders of the deep, nor ceased they faring till they had traversed the Seven Seas and came in sight of a mountain, soaring high in air, whose stones were emeralds and whose dust was musk; and in it was a stream of running water. When they made it they rejoiced, saying each to the other, ‘Verily we have won our wish’; and they entered the passes of the mountain and walked on, till they saw from afar a cavern surmounted by a great dome, shining with light. So they made for the cavern, and entering it beheld therein a throne of gold studded with all manner jewels, and about it stools whose number none knoweth save Allah Almighty. And they saw lying at full length upon the throne our lord Solomon, clad in robes of green silk inwoven with gold and broidered with jewels and precious minerals: his right hand was passed over his breast and on the middle finger was the seal ring whose lustre outshone that of all other gems in the place. Then Affan taught Bulukiya adjurations and conjurations galore and said to him, ‘Repeat these conjurations and cease not repeating until I take the ring.’ Then he went up to the throne; but, as he drew near unto it lo’ c mighty serpent came forth from beneath it and cried out at him with so terrible a cry that the whole place trembled and sparks flew from its mouth, saying, ‘Begone, or thou art a dead man’ But Affan busied himself with his incantations and suffered himself not to be startled thereby. Then the serpent blew such a fiery blast at him, that the place was like to be set on fire, and said to him, Woe to thee! Except thou turn back, I will consume thee’ Hearing these words Bulukiya left the cave, but Affan, who suffered himself not to be troubled, went up to the Prophet: then he put out his hand to the ring and touched it and strove to draw it off the lord Solomon’s finger; and behold, the serpent blew on him once more and he became a heap of ashes. Such was his case; but as regards Bulukiya he fell down in a swoon.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen continued: “When Bulukiya saw Affan burnt up by the fire and become a heap of ashes, he fell down in a swoon. Thereupon the Lord (magnified be His Majesty!) bade Gabriel descend earthwards and save him ere the serpent should blow on him. So Gabriel descended without delay and, finding Affan reduced to ashes and Bulukiya in a fit, aroused him from his trance and saluting him asked, ‘How camest thou hither?’ Bulukiya related to him his history from first to last, adding, ‘Know that I came not hither but for the love of Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!), of whom Affan informed me that his mission would take place at the End of Time; moreover that none should foregather with him but those who endured to the latter days by drinking of the Water of Life through means of Solomon’s seal. So I companied him hither and there befell him what befell; but I escaped the fire and now it is my desire that thou inform me where Mohammed is to be found.’ Quoth Gabriel, ‘O Bulukiya, go thy ways, for the time of Mohammed’s coming is yet far distant.’ Then he ascended up to heaven forthright, and Bulukiya wept with sore weeping and repented of that which he had done, calling to mind my words, whenas I said to them, ‘Far is it from man’s power to possess himself of the ring.’ Then he descended from the mountain and returned in exceeding confusion to the sea shore and passed the night there, marvelling at the mountains and seas and islands around him. When morning dawned, he anointed his feet with the herb-juice and descending to the water, set out and fared on over the surface of the seas days and nights, astonied at the terrors of the main and the marvels and wonders of the deep, till he came to an island as it were the Garden of Eden. So he landed and, finding himself in a great and pleasant island, paced about it and saw with admiration that its dust was saffron and its gravel carnelian and precious minerals; its hedges were of jessamine, its vegetation was of the goodliest of trees and of the brightest of odoriferous shrubs; its brushwood was of Comorin and Sumatran aloes-wood and its reeds were sugar-canes. Round about it were roses and narcissus and amaranths and gilly-flowers and chamomiles and white lilies and violets, and other flowers of all kinds and colours. Of a truth the island was the goodliest place, abounding in space, rich in grace, a compendium of beauty material and spiritual. The birds warbled on the boughs with tones far sweeter than chaunt of Koran and their notes would console a lover whom longings unman. And therein the gazelle frisked free and fain and wild cattle roamed about the plain. Its trees were of tallest height; its streams flowed bright; its springs welled with waters sweet and light; and all therein was a delight to sight and sprite. Bulukiya marvelled at the charms of the island but knew that he had strayed from the way he had first taken in company with Affan. He wandered about the place and solaced him with various spectacles until nightfall, when he climbed into a tree to sleep; but as he sat there, musing over the beauty of the site, behold, the sea became troubled and there rose up to the surface a great beast, which cried out with a cry so terrible that every living thing upon the isle trembled. As Bulukiya gazed upon him from the tree and marvelled at the bigness of his bulk, he was presently followed unexpectedly by a multitude of other sea beasts in kind manifolds, each holding in his fore-paw a jewel which shone like a lamp, so that the whole island became as light as day for the lustre of the gems. After awhile, there appeared, from the heart of the island, wild beasts of the land, none knoweth their number save Allah the Most High; amongst which Bulukiya noted lions and panthers and lynxes and other ferals; and these land beasts flocked down to the shore; and, foregathering with the sea beasts, conversed with them till daybreak, when they separated and each went his own way. Thereupon Bulukiya, terrified by what he had seen, came down from the tree and, making the sea shore, anointed his feet with the magical juice, and set out once more upon the surface of the water. He fared on days and nights over the Second Sea, till he came to a great mountain skirting which ran a Wady without end, the stones whereof were magnetic iron and its beasts, lions and hares and panthers. He landed on the mountain foot and wandered from place to place till nightfall, when he sat down sheltered by one of the base hills on the sea side, to eat of the dried fish thrown up by the sea. Presently, he turned from his meal and behold, a huge panther was creeping up to rend and ravin him; so he anointed his feet in haste with the juice and, descending to the surface of the water, fled walking over the Third Sea, in the darkness, for the night was black and the wind blew stark. Nor did he stay his course till he reached another island, whereon he landed and found there trees bearing fruits both fresh and dry.1 So he took of these fruits and ate and praised Allah Almighty; after which he walked for solace; about the island till eventide.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This may mean that the fruits were fresh and dried like dates or tamarinds (a notable wonder), or soft and hard of skin like grapes and pomegranates.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Bulukiya (continued the Queen) walked for solace about the island till eventide, when he lay down to sleep. As soon as day brake, he began to explore the place and ceased not for ten days, after which he again made the shore and anointed his feet and, setting out over the Fourth Sea, walked upon it many nights and days, till he came to a third island of fine white sand without sign of trees or grass. He walked about it awhile but, finding its only inhabitants sakers which nested in the sand, he again anointed his feet and trudged over the Fifth Sea, walking night and day till he came to a little island, whose soil and hills were like crystal. Therein were the veins wherefrom gold is worked; and therein also were marvellous trees whose like he had never seen in his wanderings, for their blossoms were in hue as gold. He landed and walked about for diversion till it was nightfall, when the flowers began to shine through the gloom like stars. Seeing this sight, he marvelled and said, ‘Assuredly, the flowers of this island are of those which wither under the sun and fall to the earth, where the winds smite them and they gather under the rocks and become the Elixir1 which the folk collect and thereof make gold.’ He slept there all that night and at sunrise he again anointed his feet and, descending to the shore, fared on over the Sixth Sea nights and days, till he came to a fifth island. Here he landed and found, after walking an hour or so, two mountains covered with a multitude of trees, whose fruits were as men’s heads hanging by the hair, and others whose fruits were green birds hanging by the feet; also a third kind, whose fruits were like aloes, if a drop of the juice fell on a man it burnt like fire; and others, whose fruits wept and laughed, besides many other marvels which he saw there. Then he returned to the sea shore and, finding there a tall tree, sat down beneath it till supper time when he climbed up into the branches to sleep. As he sat considering the wonderful works of Allah behold, the waters became troubled, and there rose therefrom the daughters of the sea, each mermaid holding in her hand a jewel which shone like the morning. They came ashore and, foregathering under the trees, sat down and danced and sported and made merry whilst Bulukiya amused himself with watching and wondering at their gambols, which were prolonged till the morning, when they returned to the sea and disappeared. Then he came down and, anointing his feet, set out on the surface of the Seventh Sea, over which he journeyed two whole months, without getting sight of highland or island or broadland or lowland or shoreland, till he came to the end thereof. And so doing he suffered exceeding hunger, so that he was forced to snatch up fishes from the surface of the sea and devour them raw, for stress of famine. In such case he pushed on till in early forenoon he came to the sixth island, with trees a-growing and rills a flowing, where he landed and walked about, looking right and left, till he came to an apple tree and put forth his hand to pluck of the fruit, when lo! one cried out to him from the tree, saying, ‘An thou draw near to this tree and cut of it aught, I will cut thee in twain.’ So he looked and saw a giant forty cubits high, being the cubit of the people of that day; whereat he feared with sore fear and refrained from that tree. Then said he to the giant, ‘Why cost thou forbid me to eat of this tree?’ Replied the other, ‘Because thou art a son of Adam and thy father Adam forgot the covenant of Allah and sinned against Him and ate of the tree.’ Quoth Bulukiya, ‘What thing art thou and to whom belongeth this island, with its trees, and how art thou named?’ Quoth the tall one, ‘My name is Sharáhiyá and trees and island belong to King Sakhr;2 I am one of his guards and in charge of his dominion,’ presently adding, ‘But who art thou and whence comest thou hither?’ Bulukiya told him his story from beginning to end and Sharahiya said, ‘Be of good cheer,’ and brought him to eat. So he ate his fill and, taking leave of the giant, set out again and ceased not faring on over the mountains and sandy deserts for ten days; at the end of which time he saw, in the distance, a dust cloud hanging like a canopy in air; and, making towards it, he heard a mighty clamour, cries and blows and sounds of mellay. Presently he reached a great Wady, two months’ journey long; and, looking whence the shouts came, he saw a multitude of horse men engaged in fierce fight and the blood running from them till it railed like a river. Their voices were thunderous and they were armed with lance and sword and iron mace and bow and arrow, and all fought with the utmost fury. At this sight he felt sore affright”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen continued: “When Bulukiya saw the host in fight, he felt sore affright and was perplexed about his case; but whilst he hesitated, behold, they caught sight of him and held their hands one from other and left fighting. Then a troop of them came up to him, wondering at his make, and one of the horsemen said to him, ‘What art thou and whence camest thou hither and whither art wending; and who showed thee the way that thou hast come to our country?’ Quoth he, ‘I am of the sons of Adam and am come out, distracted for the love of Mohammed (whom Allah bless and preserve!); but I have wandered from my way.’ Quoth the horseman, ‘Never saw we a son of Adam till now, nor did any ever come to this land.’ And all marvelled at him and at his speech. ‘But what are ye, O creatures?’ asked Bulukiya; and the rider replied, ‘We are of the Jánn.’ So he said, ‘O Knight, what is the cause of the fighting amongst you and where is your abiding place and what is the name of this valley and this land?’ He replied, ‘Our abiding-place is the White Country; and, every year, Allah Almighty commandeth us to come hither and wage war upon the unbelieving Jann.’ Asked Bulukiya, ‘And where is the White Country?’ and the horseman answered, ‘It is behind the mountain Kaf, and distant seventy-five years journey from this place which is termed the Land of Shaddád son of ‘Ád: we are here for Holy War; and we have no other business, when we are not doing battle, than to glorify God and hallow him. More over, we have a ruler, King Sakhr hight, and needs must thou go with us to him, that he may look upon thee for his especial delight.’ Then they fared on (and he with them) till they came to their abiding place; where he saw a multitude of magnificent tents of green silk, none knoweth their number save Allah the Most High, and in their midst a pavilion of red satin, some thousand cubits in compass, with cords of blue silk and pegs of gold and silver. Bulukiya marvelled at the sight and accompanied them as they fared on and behold, this was the royal pavilion. So they carried him into the presence of King Sakhr, whom he found seated upon a splendid throne of red gold, set with pearls and studded with gems; the Kings and Princes of the Jann being on his right hand, and on his left his Councillors and Emirs and Officers of state, and a multitude of others. The King seeing him bade introduce him, which they did; and Bulukiya went up to him and saluted him after kissing the ground before him. The King returned his salute and said, ‘Draw near me, O mortal!’ and Bulukiya went close up to him. Hereupon the King, commanding a chair to be set for him by his royal side, bade him sit down and asked him ‘Who art thou?’; and Bulukiya answered, ‘I am a man, and one of the Children of Israel.’ ‘Tell me thy story,’ cried King Sakhr, ‘and acquaint me with all that hath befallen thee and how thou camest to this my land.’ So Bulukiya related to him all that had occurred in his wanderings from beginning to end.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen continued: “When Bulukiya related to Sakhr what befell him in his wanderings, he marvelled thereat. Then he bade the servants bring food and they spread the tables and set on one thousand and five hundred platters of red gold and silver and copper, some containing twenty and some fifty boiled camels, and others some fifty head of sheep; at which Bulukiya marvelled with exceeding marvel. Then they ate and he ate with them, till he was satisfied and returned thanks to Allah Almighty; after which they cleared the tables and set on fruits, and they ate thereof, glorifying the name of God and invoking blessings on His prophet Mohammed (whom Allah bless and preserve!) When Bulukiya heard them make mention of Mohammed, he wondered and said to King Sakhr, ‘I am minded to ask thee some questions.’ Rejoined the King, ‘Ask what thou wilt,’ and Bulukiya said, ‘O King, what are ye and what is your origin and how came ye to know of Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!) that ye draw near to him and love him?’ King Sakhr answered, ‘O Bulukiya, of very sooth Allah created the fire in seven stages, one above the other, and each distant a thousand years journey from its neighbour. The first stage he named Jahannam1 and appointed the same for the punishment of the transgressors of the True-believers, who die unrepentant; the second he named Lazá and appointed for Unbelievers: the name of the third is Jahím and is appointed for Gog and Magog.2 The fourth is called Sa’ír and is appointed for the host of Iblis. The fifth is called Sakar and is prepared for those who neglect prayer. The sixth is called Hatamah and is appointed for Jews and Christians. The seventh is named Háwiyah and is prepared for hypocrites. Such be the seven stages.’ Quoth Bulukiya, ‘Haply Jahannam hath least of torture for that it is the uppermost.’ ‘Yes,’ quoth King Sakhr, ‘the most endurable of them all is Jahannam; natheless in it are a thousand mountains of fire, in each mountain seventy thousand cities of fire, in each city seventy thousand castles of fire, in each castle seventy thousand houses of fire, in each house seventy thousand couches of fire and in each couch seventy thousand manners of torment. As for the other hells, O Bulukiya, none knoweth the number of kinds of torment that be therein save Allah Most Highest.’ When Bulukiya heard this, he fell down in a fainting-fit, and when he came to himself, he wept and said, ‘O King what will be my case?’ Quoth Sakhr, ‘Fear not, and know thou that whoso loveth Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!) the fire shall not burn him, for he is made free therefrom for his sake; and whoso belongeth to his Faith the fire shall fly him. As for us, the Almighty Maker created us of the fire for the first that he made in Jahannam were two of His host whom he called Khalít and Malít. Now Khalít was fashioned in the likeness of a lion, with a tail like a tortoise twenty years’ journey in length and ending in a member masculine; while Malít was like a pied wolf whose tail was furnished with a member feminine. Then Almighty Allah commanded the tails to couple and copulate and do the deed of kind, and of them were born serpents and scorpions, whose dwelling is in the fire, that Allah may there with torment those whom He casteth therein; and these increased and multiplied. Then Allah commanded the tails of Khalit and Malit to couple and copulate a second time, and the tail of Malit conceived by the tail of Khalit and bore fourteen children, seven male and seven female, who grew up and intermarried one with the other. All were obedient to their sire, save one who disobeyed him and was changed into a worm which is Iblis (the curse of Allah be upon him!). Now Iblis was one of the Cherubim, for he had served Allah till he was raised to the heavens and cherished3 by the especial favour of the Merciful One, who made him chief of the Cherubim.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Vulgarly pronounced “Jahannum.” The second hell is usually assigned to Christians. As there are seven Heavens (the planetary orbits) so, to satisfy Moslem love of symmetry, there must be as many earths and hells under the earth. The Egyptians invented these grim abodes, and the marvellous Persian fancy worked them into poem.
2 Arab. “Yájúj and Majuj,” first named in Gen. x. 2, which gives the ethnology of Asia Minor, circ. B.C. 800. “Gomer” is the Gimri or Cymmerians; “Magog” the original Magi, a division of the Medes, “Javan” the Ionian Greeks, “Meshesh” the Moschi; and “Tires” the Turusha, or primitive Cymmerians. In subsequent times, “Magog” was applied to the Scythians, and modern Moslems determine from the Koran (chaps. xviii. and xxi.) that Yajuj and Majuj are the Russians, whom they call Moska or Moskoff from the Moskwa River,
3 I attempt to preserve the original pun; “Mukarrabin” (those near Allah) being the Cherubim, and the Creator causing Iblis to draw near Him (karraba).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen continued: “‘Iblis served God and became chief of Cherubim. When, however, the Lord created Adam (with whom be peace!), He commanded Iblis to prostrate himself to him, but he drew back; so Allah Almighty expelled him from heaven and cursed him.1 This Iblis had issue and of his lineage are the devils; and as for the other six males, who were his elders, they are the ancestors of the true believing Jann, and we are their descendants. Such, O Bulukiya is our provenance.2’ Bulukiya marvelled at the King’s words and said, ‘O King, I pray thee bid one of thy guards bear me back to my native land.’ ‘Naught of this may we do,’ answered Sakhr, ‘save by commandment of Allah Almighty; however, an thou desire to leave us and return home, I will mount thee on one of my mares and cause her carry thee to the farthest frontiers of my dominions, where thou wilt meet with the troops of another King, Barákhiyá hight, who will recognize the mare at sight and take thee off her and send her back to us; and this is all we can do for thee, and no more.’ When Bulukiya heard these words he wept and said, ‘Do whatso thou wilt.’ So King Sakhr caused bring the mare and, setting Bulukiya on her back, said to him, ‘Beware lest thou alight from her or strike her or cry out in her face; for if thou do so she will slay thee; but abide quietly riding on her back till she stop with thee; then dismount and wend thy ways.’ Quoth Bulukiya, ‘I hear and I obey;’ he then mounted and setting out, rode on a long while between the rows of tents; and stinted not riding till he came to the royal kitchens where he saw the great cauldrons, each holding fifty camels, hung up over the fires which blazed fiercely under them. So he stopped there and gazed with a marvel ever increasing till King Sakhr thinking him to be anhungered, bade bring him two roasted camels; and they carried them to him and bound them behind him on the mare’s crupper. Then he took leave of them and fared on, till he came to the end of King Sakhr’s dominions, where the mare stood still and Bulukiya dismounted and began to shake the dust of the journey from his raiment. And behold, there accosted him a party of men who, recognising the mare, carried her and Bulukiya before their King Barakhiya. So he saluted him, and the King returned his greeting and seated him beside himself in a splendid pavilion, in the midst of his troops and champions and vassal Princes of the Jann ranged to right and left; after which he called for food and they ate their fill and pronounced the Alhamdolillah. Then they set on fruits, and when they had eaten thereof, King Barakhiya, whose estate was like that of King Sakhr, asked his guest, ‘When didst thou leave King Sakhr?’ And Bulukiya answered, ‘Two days ago.’ Quoth Barakhiya, ‘Dost thou know, how many days’ journey thou hast come in these two days?’ Quoth he, ‘No,’ and the King rejoined, ‘Thou hast come a journey of threescore and ten months.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A vulgar version of the Koran (chaps. vii.), which seems to have borrowed from the Gospel of Barnabas. Hence Adam becomes a manner of God-man.
2 These wild fables are caricatures of Rabbinical legends which began with “Lilith,” the Spirit-wife of Adam: Nature and her counterpart, Physis and Antiphysis, supply a solid basis for folk-lore. Amongst the Hindus we have Brahma (the Creator) and Viswakarmá, the anti-Creator: the former makes a horse and a bull and the latter caricatures them with an ass and a buffalo, and so forth.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen continued: “Barakhiya said to Bulukiya, ‘In two days thou hast come a journey of threescore and ten months; moreover when thou mountedst the mare, she was affrighted at thee, knowing thee for a son of Adam, and would have thrown thee; so they bound on her back these two camels by way of weight to steady her.’ When Bulukiya heard this, he marvelled and thanked Allah Almighty for safety. Then said the King, ‘Tell me thy adventures and what brought thee to this our land.’ So he told him his story from first to last, and the King marvelled at his words, and kept Bulukiya with him two months.” Upon this Hasib Karim al-Din after he had marvelled at her story, again besought the Serpent-queen saying, “I pray thee of thy goodness and graciousness command one of thy subjects conduct me to the surface of the earth, that I may return to my family;” but she answered, “O Hasib, I know that the first thing thou wilt do, after seeing the face of the earth will be to greet thy family and then repair to the Hammam bath and bathe; and the moment thou endest thine ablutions will see the last of me, for it will be the cause of my death.” Quoth Hasib, “I swear that I will never again enter the Hammam bath so long as I live, but when washing is incumbent on me, I will wash at home.” Rejoined the Queen, “I would not trust thee though thou shouldst swear to me an hundred oaths; for such abstaining is not possible, and I know thee to be a son of Adam for whom no oath is sacred. Thy father Adam made a covenant with Allah the most High, who kneaded the clay whereof He fashioned him forty mornings and made His angels prostrate themselves to him; yet after all his promise did he forget and his oath violate, disobeying the commandment of his Lord.” When Hasib heard this, he held his peace and burst into tears; nor did he leave weeping for the space of ten days, at the end of which time he said to the Queen, “Prithee acquaint me with the rest of Bulukiya’s adventures.” Accordingly, she began again as follows: “Know, O Hasib, that Bulukiya, after abiding two months with King Barakhiya, farewelled him and fared on over wastes and deserts nights and days’ till he came to a high mountain which he ascended. On the summit he beheld seated a great Angel glorifying the names of God and invoking blessings on Mohammed. Before him lay a tablet covered with characters, these white and those black,1 whereon his eyes were fixed, and his two wings were outspread to the full, one to the western and the other to the eastern horizon. Bulukiya approached and saluted the Angel, who returned his salam adding, ‘Who art thou and whence comest thou and whither wendest thou and what is thy story?’ Accordingly, he repeated to him his history, from first to last, and the Angel marvelled mightily thereat, whereupon Bulukiya said to him, ‘I pray thee in return acquaint me with the meaning of this tablet and what is writ thereon; and what may be thine occupation and thy name.’ Replied the Angel, ‘My name is Michael, and I am charged with the shifts of night and day; and this is my occupation till the Day of Doom.’ Bulukiya wondered at his words and at his aspect and the vastness of his stature and, taking leave of him, fared onwards, night and day, till he came to a vast meadow over which he walked observing that it was traversed by seven streams and abounded in trees. He was struck by its beauty and in one corner thereof he saw a great tree and under it four Angels. So he drew near to them and found the first in the likeness of a man, the second in the likeness of a wild beast, the third in the likeness of a bird and the fourth in the likeness of a bull, engaged in glorifying Almighty Allah, and saying, ‘O my God and my Master and my Lord, I conjure Thee, by Thy truth and by the decree of Thy Prophet Mohammed (on whom be blessings and peace!) to vouchsafe Thy mercy and grant Thy forgiveness to all things created in my likeness; for Thou over all things art Almighty!’ Bulukiya marvelled at what he heard but continued his journey till he came to another mountain and ascending it, found there a great Angel seated on the summit, glorifying God and hallowing Him and invoking blessings on Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!), and he saw that Angel continually opening and shutting his hands and bending and extending his fingers. He accosted him and saluted him; whereupon the Angel returned his salam and enquired who he was and how he came thither. So Bulukiya acquainted him with his adventures including his having lost the way; and besought him to tell him, in turn, who he was and what was his function and what mountain was that. Quoth the Angel, ‘Know, O Bulukiya, that this is the mountain Kaf, which encompasseth the world; and all the countries the Creator hath made are in my grasp. When the Almighty is minded to visit any land with earthquake or famine or plenty or slaughter or prosperity, He biddeth me carry out His commands and I carry them out without stirring from my place; for know thou that my hands lay hold upon the roots of the earth,’ “— And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This is the “Lauh al-Mahfúz,” the Preserved Tablet, upon which are written all Allah’s decrees and the actions of mankind good (white) and evil (black). This is the “perspicuous Book” of the Koran, chaps. vi. 59. The idea again is Guebre.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen continued: “When the angel said, ‘And know thou that my hands lay hold upon the roots of the earth,’ he asked, ‘And hath Allah created other worlds than this within the mountain Kaf?’ The Angel answered, ‘Yes, He hath made a world white as silver, whose vastness none knoweth save Himself, and hath peopled it with Angels, whose meat and drink are His praise and hallowing and continual blessings upon His Prophet Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!). Every Thursday night1 they repair to this mountain and worship in congregation Allah until the morning, and they assign the future recompense of their lauds and litanies to the sinners of the Faith of Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!) and to all who make the Ghusl ablution of Friday; and this is their function until the Day of Resurrection.’ Asked Bulukiya, ‘And hath Allah created other mountains behind the mountain Kaf?’; whereto he answered, ‘Yes, behind this mountain is a range of mountains five hundred years’ journey long, of snow and ice, and this it is that wardeth off the heat of Jahannam from the world, which verily would else be consumed thereby. Moreover, behind the mountain Kaf are forty worlds, each one the bigness of this world forty times told, some of gold and some of silver and others of carnelian. Each of these worlds hath its own colour, and Allah hath peopled them with angels, that know not Eve nor Adam nor night nor day, and have no other business than to celebrate His praises and hallow Him and make profession of His Unity and proclaim His Omnipotence and supplicate Him on behalf of the followers of Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!). And know, also, O Bulukiya, that the earths were made in seven stages, one upon another, and that Allah hath created one of His Angels, whose stature and attributes none knoweth but Himself and who beareth the seven stages upon his shoulders. Under this Angel Almighty Allah hath created a great rock, and under the rock a bull, and under the bull a huge fish, and under the fish a mighty ocean.2 God once told Isa (with whom be peace! ) of this fish, and he said, ‘O Lord show me the fish, that I may look upon it.’ So the Almighty commanded an angel to take Isa and show him the fish. Accordingly, he took him up and carried him (with whom be peace!) to the sea, wherein the fish dwelt, and said, ‘Look, O Isa, upon the fish.’ He looked but at first saw nothing, when, suddenly, the fish darted past like lightning. At this sight Isa fell down aswoon, and when he came to himself, Allah spake to him by inspiration, saying, ‘O Isa, hast thou seen the fish and comprehended its length and its breadth?’ He replied, ‘By Thy honour and glory, O Lord, I saw no fish; but there passed me by a great bull, whose length was three days’ journey, and I know not what manner of thing this bull is.’ Quoth Allah, ‘O Isa, this that thou sawest and which was three days in passing by thee, was but the head of the fish;3 and know that every day I create forty fishes like unto this.’ And Isa hearing this marvelled at the power of Allah the Almighty. Asked Bulukiya, ‘What hath Allah made beneath this sea which containeth the fish?’; and the Angel answered, ‘Under the sea the Lord created a vast abyss of air, under the air fire, and under the fire a mighty serpent, by name Falak; and were it not for fear of the Most Highest, this serpent would assuredly swallow up all that is above it, air and fire and the Angel and his burden, without sensing it.’”— And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the angel said to Bulukiya when describing the serpent, “‘And were it not for fear of the Most Highest, this serpent would assuredly swallow up all that is above it, air and fire, and the Angel and his burden, without sensing it. When Allah created this serpent He said to it by inspiration, ‘I will give thee somewhat to keep for me, so open thy mouth.’ The serpent replied, ‘Do whatso Thou wilt;’ and opened his mouth and God placed Hell into his maw, saying, ‘Keep it until the Day of Resurrection. When that time comes, the Almighty will send His angels with chains to bring Hell and bind it until the Day when all men shall meet; and the Lord will order Hell to go open its gates and there will issue therefrom sparks bigger than the mountains.’ When Bulukiya heard these things he wept with sore weeping and, taking leave of the Angel, fared on westwards, till he came in sight of two creatures sitting before a great shut gate. As he drew near, he saw that one of the gatekeepers had the semblance of a lion and the other that of a bull; so he saluted them and they returned his salam and enquired who and whence he was and whither he was bound. Quoth he, ‘I am of the sons of Adam, a wanderer for the love of Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!) and I have strayed from my way.’ Then he asked them what they were and what was the gate before which they sat, and they answered, ‘We are the guardians of this gate thou seest and we have no other business than the praise and hallowing of Allah and the invocation of blessings on Mohammed (whom may He bless and keep!).’ Bulukiya wondered and asked them, ‘What is within the gate?’; and they answered, ‘We wot not.’ Then quoth he, ‘I conjure you, by the truth of your glorious Lord, open to me the gate, that I may see that which is therein.’ Quoth they, ‘We cannot, and none may open this gate, of all created beings save Gabriel, the Faithful One, with whom be peace!’ Then Bulukiya lifted up his voice in supplication to Allah, saying, ‘O Lord, send me thy messenger Gabriel, the Faithful One, to open for me this gate that I may see what be therein;’ and the Almighty gave ear unto his prayer and commanded the Archangel to descend to earth and open to him the gate of the Meeting-place of the Two Seas. So Gabriel descended and, saluting Bulukiya, opened the gate to him, saying, ‘Enter this door, for Allah commandeth me to open to thee.’ So he entered and Gabriel locked the gate behind him and flew back to heaven. When Bulukiya found himself within the gate, he looked and beheld a vast ocean, half salt and half fresh, bounded on every side by mountain ranges of red ruby whereon he saw angels singing the praises of the Lord and hallowing Him. So he went up to them and saluted them and having received a return of his salam, questioned them of the sea and the mountains. Replied they, ‘This place is situate under the Arsh or empyreal heaven; and this Ocean causeth the flux and flow of all the seas of the world; and we are appointed to distribute them and drive them to the various parts of the earth, the salt to the salt and the fresh to the fresh,1 and this is our employ until the Day of Doom. As for the mountain ranges they serve to limit and to contain the waters. But thou, whence comest thou and whither art thou bound?’ So he told them his story and asked them of the road. They bade him traverse the surface of the ocean which lay before him: so he anointed his feet with the juice of the herb he had with him, and taking leave of the angels, set out upon the face of the sea and sped on over the water nights and days; and as he was faring, behold, he met a handsome youth journeying along like himself, whereupon he greeted him and he returned his greeting. After they parted he espied four great Angels wayfaring over the face of the sea, and their going was like the blinding lightning; so he stationed himself in their road, and when they came up to him, he saluted them and said to them, ‘I ask you by the Almighty, the Glorious, to tell me your names and whither are ye bound?’ Replied the first Angel, ‘My name is Gabriel and these my companions are called Isráfíl and Míká’íl and Azrá’íl. There hath appeared in the East a mighty dragon, which hath laid waste a thousand cities and devoured their inhabitants; wherefore Allah Almighty hath commanded us to go to him and seize him and cast him into Jahannam.’ Bulukiya marvelled at the vastness of their stature and fared on, as before, days and nights, till he came to an island where he landed and walked about for a while,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. Lakes and rivers.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Bulukiya landed on the island and walked about for a while, till he saw a comely young man with light shining from his visage, sitting weeping and lamenting between two built tombs. So he saluted him and he returned his salutation, and Bulukiya said to him, ‘Who art thou and what are these two built tombs between which thou sittest, and wherefore this wailing?’ He looked at him and wept with sore weeping, till he drenched his clothes with his tears; then said, ‘Know thou, O my brother, mine is a marvellous story and a wondrous; but I would have thee sit by me and first tell me thy name and thine adventures and who thou art and what brought thee hither; after which I will, in turn, relate to thee my history.’ So Bulukiya sat down by him and related to him all that had befallen him from his father’s death,1 adding, ‘Such is my history, the whole of it, and Allah alone knoweth what will happen to me after this.’ When the youth heard his story, he sighed and said, ‘O thou unhappy! How few things thou hast seen in thy life compared with mine. Know, O Bulukiya, that unlike thyself I have looked upon our lord Solomon, in his life, and have seen things past count or reckoning. Indeed, my story is strange and my case out of range, and I would have thee abide with me, till I tell thee my history and acquaint thee how I come to be sitting here.’” Hearing this much Hasib again interrupted the Queen of the Serpents and said to her, “Allah upon thee, O Queen, release me and command one of thy servants carry me forth to the surface of the earth, and I will swear an oath to thee that I will never enter the Hammam-bath as long as I live.” But she said, “This is a thing which may not be nor will I believe thee upon thine oath.” When he heard this, he wept and all the serpents wept on his account and took to interceding for him with their Queen, saying, “We beseech thee, bid one of us carry him forth to the surface of the earth, and he will swear thee an oath never to enter the bath his life long.” Now when Yamlaykhá (for such was the Queen’s name) heard their appeal, she turned to Hasib and made him swear to her an oath; after which she bade a serpent carry him forth to the surface of the earth. The serpent made ready, but as she was about to go away with him, he turned to Queen Yamlaykha and said, “I would fain have thee tell me the history of the youth whom Bulukiya saw sitting between two tombs.” So she said: “Know, O Hasib, that when Bulukiya sat down by the youth and told him his tale, from first to last, in order that the other might also recount his adventures and explain the cause of his sitting between the two tombs.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here some abridgement is necessary, for we have another recital of what has been told more than once.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Queen continued: “When Bulukiya ended his recount, the youth said, ‘How few things of marvel hast thou seen in thy life, O unhappy! Now I have looked upon our lord Solomon while he was yet living and I have witnessed wonders beyond compt and conception.’ And he began to relate
‘Know, O my brother, that my sire was a King called Teghmús, who reigned over the land of Kabul and the Banu Shahlán, ten thousand warlike chiefs, each ruling over an hundred walled cities and a hundred citadels; and he was suzerain also over seven vassal princes, and tribute was brought to him from the broad lands between East and West. He was just and equitable in his rule and Allah Almighty had given him all this and had bestowed on him such mighty empire, yet had He not vouchsafed him a son (though this was his dearest wish) to inherit the kingdom after his decease. So one day it befell that he summoned the Olema and astrologers, the mathematicians and almanac-makers, and said, ‘Draw me my horoscope and look if Allah will grant me a son to succeed me.’ Accordingly, they consulted their books and calculated his dominant star and the aspects thereof; after which they said to him, ‘Know, O King, that thou shalt be blessed with a son, but by none other than the daughter of the King of Khorásán.’ Hearing this Teghmus joyed with exceeding joy and, bestowing on the astrologers and wizards treasure beyond numbering or reckoning, dismissed them. His chief Wazir was a renowned warrior, by name ‘Ayn Zár, who was equal to a thousand cavaliers in battle; so him he summoned and, repeating to him what the astrologers had predicted, he said, ‘O Wazir, it is my will that thou equip thee for a march to Khorasan and demand for me the hand of its King Bahrwan’s daughter.’ Receiving these orders the Wazir at once proceeded to get ready for the journey and encamped without the town with his troops and braves and retinue, whilst King Teghmus made ready as presents for the King of Khorasan fifteen hundred loads of silks and precious stones, pearls and rubies and other gems, besides gold and silver; and he also prepared a prodigious quantity of all that goeth to the equipment of a bride; then, loading them upon camels and mules, delivered them to Ayn Zar, with a letter to the following purport. ‘After invoking the blessing of Heaven, King Teghmus to King Bahrwan, greeting. Know that we have taken counsel with the astrologers and sages and mathematicians, and they tell us that we shall have boon of a boy child, and that by none other than thy daughter. Wherefore I have despatched unto thee my Wazir Ayn Zar, with great store of bridal gear, and I have appointed him to stand in my stead and to enter into the marriage-contract in my name. Furthermore I desire that of thy favour thou wilt grant him his request without stay or delay; for it is my own, and all graciousness thou showest him, I take for myself; but beware of crossing me in this, for know, O King Bahrwan, that Allah hath bestowed upon me the Kingdom of Kabul, and hath given me dominion over the Banu Shahlan and vouchsafed me a mighty empire; and if I marry thy daughter, we will be, I and thou, as one thing in kingship; and I will send thee every year as much treasure as will suffice thee. And this is my desire of thee.’ Then King Teghmus sealed the letter with his own ring and gave it to the Wazir, who departed with a great company and journeyed till he drew near the capital of Khorasan. When King Bahrwan heard of his approach, he despatched his principal Emirs to meet him,2 with a convoy of food and drink and other requisites, including forage for the steeds. So they fared forth with the train till they met the Wazir; then, alighting without the city, they exchanged salutations and abode there, eating and drinking, ten days; at the end of which time they mounted and rode on into the town, where they were met by King Bahrwan, who came out to greet the Wazir of King Teghmus and alighting, embraced him and carried him to his citadel. Then Ayn Zar brought out the presents and laid them before King Bahrwan, together with the letter of King Teghmus, which when the King read and understood, he joyed with joy exceeding and welcomed the Wazir, saying, ‘Rejoice in winning thy wish; and know that if King Teghmus sought of me my life, verily I would give it to him.’ Then he went in forthright to his daughter and her mother and his kinsfolk, and acquainting them with the King of Kabul’s demand sought counsel of them, and they said, ‘Do what seemeth good to thee.’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This name, “King of Life,” is Persian: “Tegh” or “Tigh” means a scimitar and “Bahrwán,” is, I conceive, a mistake for “Bihrún,” the Persian name of Alexander the Great.
2 Arab. “Mulákát” or meeting the guest which, I have said, is an essential part of Eastern ceremony, the distance from the divan, room, house or town being proportioned to his rank or consideration.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “King Bahrwan consulted his daughter and her mother and his kinsfolk and they said, ‘Do what seemeth good to thee.’ So he returned straightway to the Minister Ayn Zar and notified to him that his desire had been fulfilled; and the Wazir, abode with him two months, at the end of which time he said to him, ‘We beseech thee to bestow upon us that wherefore we came, so we may depart to our own land.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered the King. Then he prepared all the gear wanted for the wedding; and when this was done he assembled his Wazirs and all his Emirs and the Grandees of his realm and the monks and priests who tied the knot of marriage between his daughter and King Teghmus by proxy. And King Bahrwan bade decorate the city after the goodliest fashion and spread the streets with carpets. Then he equipped his daughter for the journey and gave her all manner of presents and rarities and precious metals, such as none may describe; and Ayn Zar departed with the Princess to his own country. When the news of their approach reached King Teghmus, he bade celebrate the wedding festivities and adorn the city; after which he went in unto the Princess and abated her maidenhead; nor was it long before she conceived by him and, accomplishing her months, bare a man-child like the moon on the night of its full. When King Teghmus knew that his wife had given birth to a goodly son, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and, summoning the sages and astrologers and mathematicians, said to them, ‘I would that ye draw the horoscope of the newborn child with his ascendant and its aspects and acquaint me what shall befall him in his lifetime.’ So they made their calculations and found them favourable; but, that he would, in his fifteenth year, be exposed to perils and hardships, and that if he survived, he would be happy and fortunate and become a greater king than his father and a more powerful. The King rejoiced greatly in this prediction and named the boy Janshah. Then he delivered him to the nurses, wet and dry, who reared him excellently well till he reached his fifth year, when his father taught him to read the Evangel and instructed him in the art of arms and lunge of lance and sway of sword, so that in less than seven years he was wont to ride a-hunting, and a-chasing; he became a doughty champion, perfect in all the science of the cavalarice and his father was delighted to hear of his knightly prowess. It chanced one day that King Teghmus and his son accompanied by the troops rode out for sport into the woods and wilds and hunted till mid afternoon of the third day, when the Prince started a gazelle of a rare colour, which fled before him. So he gave chase to it, followed by seven of King Teghmus’s white slaves all mounted on swift steeds, and rode at speed after the gazelle, which fled before them till she brought them to the sea shore. They all ran at her to take her as their quarry, but she escaped from them and, throwing herself into the waves,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when Janshah and the Mamelukes ran at the gazelle, to take her as their quarry, she escaped from them and, throwing herself into the waves, swam out to a fishing bark, that was moored near the shore, and sprang on board. Janshah and his followers dismounted and, boarding the boat, made prize of the gazelle and were minded to return to shore with her, when the Prince espied a great island in the offing and said to his merry men, ‘I have a longing to visit yonder island.’ They answered, ‘We hear and obey,’ and sailed on till they came to the island, where they landed and amused themselves with exploring the place. Then they again embarked and taking with them the gazelle, set out to return homeward, but the murk of evening overtook them and they missed their way on the main. Moreover a strong wind arose and crave the boat into mid-ocean, so that when they awoke in the morning, they found themselves lost at sea. Such was their case; but as regards King Teghmus, when he missed his son, he commanded his troops to make search for him in separate bodies; so they dispersed on all sides and a company of them, coming to the sea shore, found there the Prince’s white slave whom he had left in charge of the horses. They asked him what was become of his master and the other six, and he told them what had passed whereupon they took him with them and returned to the King and acquainted him with what they had learnt. When Teghmus heard their report, he wept with sore weeping and cast the crown from his head, biting his hands for vexation. Then he rose forthright and wrote letters and despatched them to all the islands of the sea. Moreover he got together an hundred ships and filling them with troops, sent them to sail about in quest of Janshah, while he himself withdrew with his troops to his capital, where he abode in sore concern. As for Janshah’s mother, when she heard of his loss she buffeted her face and began the mourning ceremonies for her son making sure that he was dead. Meanwhile, Janshah and his men ceased not driving before the wind and those in search of them cruised about for ten days till, finding no trace they returned and reported failure to the King. But a stiff gale caught the Prince’s craft which went spooning till they made a second island, where they landed and walked about. Presently they came upon a spring of running water in the midst of the island and saw from afar a man sitting hard by it. So they went up to him and saluted him, and he returned their salam, speaking in a voice like the whistle1 of birds. Whilst Janshah stood marvelling at the man’s speech he looked right and left and suddenly split himself in twain, and each half went a different way.2 Then there came down from the hills a multitude of men of all kinds, beyond count and reckoning; and they no sooner reached the spring, than each one divided into two halves and rushed on Janshah and his Mamelukes to eat them. When the voyagers saw this, they turned and fled seawards; but the cannibals pursued them and caught and ate three of the slaves, leaving only three slaves who with Janshah reached the boat in safety; then launching her made for the water and sailed nights and days without knowing whither their ship went. They killed the gazelle, and lived on her flesh, till the winds drove them to a third island which was full of trees and waters and flower-gardens and orchards laden with all fashion of fruits: and streams strayed under the tree shade: brief, the place was a Garden of Eden. The island pleased the Prince and he said to his companions, ‘Which of you will land and explore?’ Then said one of the slaves, ‘That will I do’; but he replied, ‘This thing may not be; you must all land and explore the place while I abide in the boat.’ So he set them ashore,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sifr”: whistling is held by the Badawi to be the speech of devils; and the excellent explorer Burckhardt got a bad name by the ugly habit.
2 The Arabs call “Shikk” (split man) and the Persians “Nímchahrah” (half-face) a kind of demon like a man divided longitudinally: this gruesome creature runs with amazing speed and is very cruel and dangerous. For the celebrated soothsayers “Shikk” and “Sátih” see Chenery’s Al–Hariri, p. 371.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the Prince set them ashore, and they searched the island, East and West, but found no one; then they fared on inland to the heart thereof, till they came to a Castle compassed about with ramparts of white marble, within which was a palace of the clearest crystal and, set in its centre a garden containing all manner fruits beyond description, both fresh and dry, and flowers of grateful odour and trees and birds singing upon the boughs. Amiddlemost the garden was a vast basin of water, and beside it a great open hall with a raised dais whereon stood a number of stools surrounding a throne of red gold, studded with all kinds of jewels and especially rubies and seeing the beauty of the Castle and of the Garden they entered and explored in all directions, but found no one there, so after rummaging the Castle they returned to Janshah and told him what they had seen. When he heard their report, he cried, ‘Needs must I solace myself with a sight of it;’ so he landed and accompanied them to the palace, which he entered marvelling at the goodliness of the place. They then visited every part of the gardens and ate of the fruits and continued walking till it waxed dark, when they returned to the estrade and sat down, Janshah on the throne in the centre and the three others on the stools ranged to the right and left. Then the Prince, there seated, called to mind his separation from his father’s throne-city1 and country and friends and kinsfolk; and fell a-weeping and lamenting over their loss whilst his men wept around him. And as they were thus sorrowing behold, they heard a mighty clamour, that came from seaward and looking in the direction of the clamour saw a multitude of apes, as they were swarming locusts. Now the castle and the island belonged to these apes, who, finding the strangers’ boat moored to the strand, had scuttled it and after repaired to the palace, where they came upon Janshah and his men seated.” Here the Serpent-queen again broke off her recital saying, “All this, O Hasib, was told to Bulukiya by the young man sitting between the two tombs.” Quoth Hasib, “And what did Janshah do with the apes?”; so the Queen resumed her tale: “He and his men were sore affrighted at the appearance of the apes, but a company of them came up to the throne whereon he sat and, kissing the earth before him, stood awhile in his presence with their paws upon their breasts in posture of respect. Then another troop brought to the castle gazelles which they slaughtered and skinned; and roasting pieces of the flesh till fit for food they laid them on platters of gold and silver and spreading the table, made signs to Janshah and his men to eat. The Prince and his followers came down from their seats and ate, and the apes ate with them, till they were satisfied, when the apes took away the meat and set on fruits of which they partook and praised Allah the most Highest. Then Janshah asked the apes by signs what they were and to whom the palace belonged, and they answered him by signals, ‘Know ye that this island belonged of yore to our lord Solomon, son of David (on both of whom be peace!), and he used to come hither once every year for his solace,’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Takht” (Persian) = a throne or a capital.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Janshah asked the apes by signs to whom the palace belonged, they answered him by signals, “‘Of a truth this place belonged of yore to our lord Solomon, son of David (on both of whom be peace!), who used to come hither once every year for his solace, and then wend his ways.’ Presently the apes continued, ‘And know, O King, that thou art become our Sultan and we are thy servants; so eat and drink, and whatso thou ever bid us, that will we do.’ So saying, they severally kissed the earth between the hands of Janshah and all took their departure. The Prince slept that night on the throne and his men on the stools about him, and on the morrow, at daybreak, the four Wazirs or Captains of the apes presented themselves before him, attended by their troops, who ranged themselves about him, rank after rank, until the place was crowded. Then the Wazirs approached and exhorted him by signs to do justice amongst them and rule them righteously; after which the apes cried out to one another and went away, all save a small party which remained in presence to serve him. After awhile, there came up a company of apes with huge dogs in the semblance of horses, each wearing about his head a massive chain; and signed to Janshah and his three followers to mount and go with them. So they mounted, marvelling at the greatness of the dogs, and rode forth, attended by the four Wazirs and a host of apes like swarming locusts, some riding on dogs and others afoot till they came to the sea-shore. Janshah looked for the boat which brought him and finding it scuttled turned to the Wazirs and asked how this had happened to it; whereto they answered, ‘Know, O King, that, when thou camest to our island, we kenned that thou wouldst be Sultan over us and we feared lest ye all flee from us, in our absence; and embark in the boat, so we sank it.’ When Janshah heard this, he turned to his Mamelukes and said to them, ‘We have no means of escaping from these apes, and we must patiently await the ordinance of the Almighty.’ Then they fared on inland and ceased not faring till they came to the banks of a river, on whose other side rose a high mountain, whereon Janshah saw a multitude of Ghuls. So he turned to the apes and asked them, ‘What are these Ghuls?’ and they answered, ‘Know, O King, that these Ghuls are our mortal foes and we come hither to do battle with them.’ Janshah marvelled to see them riding horses, and was startled at the vastness of their bulk and the strangeness of their semblance; for some of them had heads like bulls and others like camels. As soon as the Ghuls espied the army of the apes, they charged down to the river bank and standing there, fell to pelting them with stones as big as maces; and between them there befell a sore fight. Presently, Janshah, seeing that the Ghuls were getting the better of the apes, cried out to his men, saying, ‘Unease your bows and arrows and shoot at them your best shafts and keep them off from us.’ They did so and slew of the Ghuls much people, when there fell upon them sore dismay and they turned to flee; but the apes, seeing Janshah’s prowess, forded the river and headed by their Sultan chased the Ghuls, killing many of them in the pursuit, till they reached the high mountain where they disappeared. And while exploring the said mountain Janshah found a tablet of alabaster, whereon was written, ‘O thou who enterest this land, know that thou wilt become Sultan over these apes and that from them there is no escape for thee, except by the passes that run east and west through the mountains. If thou take the eastern pass, thou wilt fare through a country swarming with Ghuls and wild beasts, Marids and Ifrits, and thou wilt come, after three months’ journeying, to the ocean which encompasseth the earth; but, if thou travel by the western pass, it will bring thee, after four months’ journeying, to the head of the Wady of Emmets.1 When thou hast followed the road, that leads through this mountain, ten days,’ “— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Wady al-Naml”; a reminiscence of the Koranic Wady (chaps. xxvii.), which some place in Syria and others in Táif.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Janshah read this much upon the tablet and found, at the end of the inscription, “‘Then thou wilt come to a great river, whose current is so swift that it blindeth the eyes. Now this river drieth up every Sabbath,1 and on the opposite bank lies a city wholly inhabited by Jews, who the faith of Mohammed refuse; there is not a Moslem among the band nor is there other than this city in the land. Better therefore lord it over the apes, for so long as thou shalt tarry amongst them they will be victorious over the Ghuls. And know also that he who wrote this tablet was the lord Solomon, son of David (on both be peace!).’ When Janshah read these words, he wept sore and repeated them to his men. Then they mounted again and, surrounded by the army of the apes who were rejoicing in their victory, returned to the castle. Here Janshah abode, Sultaning over them, for a year and a half. And at the end of this time, he one day commanded the ape-army to mount and go forth a hunting with him, and they rode out into the woods and wilds, and fared on from place to place, till they approached the Wady of Emmets, which Janshah knew by the description of it upon the alabaster tablet. Here he bade them dismount and they all abode there, eating and drinking a space of ten days, after which Janshah took his men apart one night and said, ‘I purpose we flee through the Valley of Emmets and make for the town of the Jews; it may be Allah will deliver us from these apes and we will go God’s ways.’ They replied, ‘We hear and we obey:’ so he waited till some little of the night was spent then, donning his armour and girding his sword and dagger and such like weapons, and his men doing likewise, they set out and fared on westwards till morning. When the apes awoke and missed Janshah and his men, they knew that they had fled. So they mounted and pursued them, some taking the eastern pass and others that which led to the Wady of Emmets, nor was it long before the apes came in sight of the fugitives, as they were about to enter the valley, and hastened after them. When Janshah and his men saw them, they fled into the Emmet-valley; but the apes soon overtook them and would have slain them, when behold, there rose out of the earth a multitude of ants like swarming locusts, as big as dogs, and charged home upon the apes. They devoured many of their foes, and these also slew many of the ants; but help came to the emmets: now an ant would go up to an ape and smite him and cut him in twain, whilst ten apes could hardly master one ant and bear him away and tear him in sunder. The sore battle lasted till the evening but the emmets were victorious. In the gloaming Janshah and his men took to flight and fled along the sole of the Wady.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is the old, old fable of the River Sabbation which Pliny ((xxx). 18) reports as “drying up every Sabbath-day” (Saturday): and which Josephus reports as breaking the Sabbath by flowing only on the Day of Rest.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “in the gloaming Janshah and his men took to flight and fled along the sole of the Wady till the morning. With the break of day, the apes were up and at them, which when the Prince saw, he shouted to his men, ‘Smite with your swords.’ So they bared their blades and laid on load right and left, till there ran at them an ape, with tusks like an elephant, and smote one of the Mamelukes and cut him in sunder. Then the apes redoubled upon Janshah and he fled with his followers into the lower levels of the valley, where he saw a vast river and by its side a mighty army of ants. When the emmets espied Janshah they pushed on and surrounded him, and one of the slaves fell to smiting them with his sword and cutting them in twain; whereupon the whole host set upon him and slew him. At this pass, behold, up came the apes from over the mountain and fell in numbers upon Janshah; but he tore off his clothes and, plunging into the river, with his remaining servant, struck out for the middle of the stream. Presently, he caught sight of a tree on the other bank; so he swam up to it and laying hold of one of its branches, hung to it and swung himself ashore, but as for the last Mameluke the current carried him away and dashed him to pieces against the mountain. Thereupon Janshah fell to wringing his clothes and spreading them in the sun to dry, what while there befell a fierce fight between the apes and the ants, until the apes gave up the pursuit and returned to their own land. Meanwhile, Janshah, who abode alone on the river-bank, could do naught but shed tears till nightfall, when he took refuge in a cavern and there passed the dark hours, in great fear and feeling desolate for the loss of his slaves. At daybreak awaking from his sleep he set out again and fared on nights and days, eating of the herbs of the earth, till he came to the mountain which burnt like fire, and thence he made the river which dried up every Sabbath. Now it was a mighty stream and on the opposite bank stood a great city, which was the capital of the Jews mentioned in the tablet. Here he abode till the next Sabbath, when the river dried up and he walked over to the other side and entered the Jew city, but saw none in the streets. So he wandered about till he came to the door of a homestead, which he opened and entering, espied within the people of the house sitting in silence and speaking not a syllable. Quoth he, ‘I am a stranger and anhungered;’ and they signed to him, as to say, ‘Eat and drink, but speak not.’1 So he ate and drank and slept that night and, when morning dawned, the master of the house greeted him and bade him welcome and asked him, ‘Whence comest thou and whither art thou bound?’ At these words Janshah wept sore and told him all that had befallen him and how his father was King of Kabul; whereat the Jew marvelled and said, ‘Never heard we of that city, but we have heard from the merchants of the caravans that in that direction lieth a land called Al–Yaman.’ ‘How far is that land from this place?’ asked Janshah, and the Jew answered, ‘The Cafilah merchants pretend that it is a two years and three months’ march from their land hither.’ Quoth Janshah, ‘And when doth the caravan come?’ Quoth the Jew, ‘Next year ’twill come.’ “— And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 They were keeping the Sabbath. When lodging with my Israelite friends at Tiberias and Safet, I made a point of never speaking to them (after the morning salutation) till the Saturday was over.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Jew was questioned anent the coming of the caravan, he replied, “‘Next year ’twill come.’ At these words the Prince wept sore and fell a-sorrowing for himself and his Mamelukes; and lamenting his separation from his mother and father and all which had befallen him in his wanderings. Then said the Jew, ‘O young man, do not weep, but sojourn with us till the caravan shall come, when we will send thee with it to thine own country.’ So he tarried with the Jew two whole months and every day he went out walking in the streets for his solace and diversion. Now it chanced one day, whilst he paced about the main thoroughfares, as of wont, and was bending his steps right and left, he heard a crier crying aloud and saying, ‘Who will earn a thousand gold pieces and a slave-girl of surpassing beauty and loveliness by working for me between morning and noontide?’ But no one answered him and Janshah said in his mind, ‘Were not this work dangerous and difficult, he would not offer a thousand diners and a fair girl for half a day’s labour.’ Then he accosted the crier and said, ‘I will do the work;’ so the man carried him to a lofty mansion where they found one who was a Jew and a merchant, seated on an ebony chair, to whom quoth the crier, standing respectfully before him, ‘O merchant, I have cried every day these three months, and none hath answered, save this young man.’ Hearing his speech the Jew welcomed Janshah, led him into a magnificent sitting-room and signalled to bring food. So the servants spread the table and set thereon all manner meats, of which the merchant and Janshah ate, and washed their hands. Then wine was served up and they drank; after which the Jew rose and bringing Janshah a purse of a thousand diners and a slave-girl of rare beauty, said to him, ‘Take maid and money to thy hire.’ Janshah took them and seated the girl by his side when the trader resumed, ‘To-morrow to the work!’; and so saying he withdrew and Janshah slept with the damsel that night. As soon as it was morning, the merchant bade his slaves clothe him in a costly suit of silk whenas he came out of the Hammam–Bath. So they did as he bade them and brought him back to the house, whereupon the merchant called for harp and lute and wine and they drank and played and made merry till the half of the night was past, when the Jew retired to his Harim and Janshah lay with his slave-girl till the dawn. Then he went to the bath and on his return, the merchant came to him and said, ‘Now I wish thee to do the work for me.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ replied Janshah. So the merchant bade his slaves bring two she-mules and set Janshah on one, mounting the other himself. Then they rode forth from the city and fared on from morn till noon, when they made a lofty mountain, to whose height was no limit. Here the Jew dismounted, ordering Janshah to do the same; and when he obeyed the merchant gave him a knife and a cord, saying, ‘I desire that thou slaughter this mule.’ So Janshah tucked up his sleeves and skirts and going up to the mule, bound her legs with the cord, then threw her and cut her throat; after which he skinned her and lopped off her head and legs and she became a mere heap of flesh. Then said the Jew, ‘Slit open the mule’s belly and enter it and I will sew it up on thee. There must thou abide awhile and whatsoever thou seest in her belly, acquaint me therewith.’ So Janshah slit the mule’s belly and crept into it, whereupon the merchant sewed it up on him and withdrew to a distance,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the merchant sewed up the mule’s belly on Janshah and, withdrawing to a distance, hid himself in the skirts of the mountain. After a while a huge bird swooped down on the dead mule and snatching it up, flew up with it to the top of the mountain, where it set down the quarry and would have eaten it; but Janshah, feeling the bird begin to feed, slit the mule’s belly and came forth. When the bird saw him, it took fright at him and flew right away; whereupon he stood up and looking right and left, saw nothing but the carcasses of dead men, mummied by the sun, and exclaimed, ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!’ Then he looked down the precipice and espied the merchant standing at the mountain-foot, looking for him. As soon as the Jew caught sight of him, he called out to him, ‘Throw me down of the stones which are about thee, that I may direct thee to a way whereby thou mayst descend.’ So Janshah threw him down some two hundred of the stones, which were all rubies,1 chrysolites and other gems of price; after which he called out to him, saying, ‘Show me the way down and I will throw thee as many more.’ But the Jew gathered up the stones and, binding them on the back of the mule, went his way without answering a word and left Janshah alone on the mountain-top. When the Prince found himself deserted, he began to weep and implore help of Heaven, and thus he abode three days; after which he rose and fared on over the mountainous ground two month’s space, feeding upon hill-herbs; and he ceased not faring till he came to its skirts and espied afar off a Wady full of fruitful trees and birds harmonious, singing the praises of Allah, the One, the Victorious. At this sight he joyed with great joy and stayed not his steps till, after an hour or so, he came to a ravine in the rocks, through which the rain torrents fell into the valley. He made his way down the cleft till he reached the Wady which he had seen from the mountain-top and walked on therein, gazing right and left, nor ceased so doing until he came in sight of a great castle, towering high in air. As he drew near the gates he saw an old man of comely aspect and face shining with light standing thereat with a staff of carnelian in his hand, and going up to him, saluted him. The Shaykh returned his salam and bade him welcome, saying, ‘Sit down, O my son.’ So he sat down at the door of the castle and the old man said to him, ‘How camest thou to this land, untrodden by son of Adam before thee, and whither art thou bound?’ When Janshah heard his words he wept bitterly at the thought of all the hardships he had suffered and his tears choked his speech. Quoth the Shaykh, ‘O my son, leave weeping; for indeed thou makest my heart ache.’ So saying, he rose and set somewhat of food before him and said to him, ‘Eat.’ He ate and praised Allah Almighty; after which the old man besought him saying, ‘O my son, I would have thee tell me thy tale and acquaint me with thine adventures.’ So Janshah related to him all that had befallen him, from first to last, whereat the Shaykh marvelled with exceeding marvel. Then said the Prince, ‘Prithee inform me who is the lord of this valley and to whom doth this great castle belong?’ Answered the old man, ‘Know, O my son, this valley and all that is therein and this castle with all it containeth belong to the lord Solomon, son of David (on both be peace!). As for me, my name is Shaykh Nasr,2 King of the Birds; for thou must know that the lord Solomon committed this castle to my charge,’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “La’al” and “Yákút,” the latter also applied to the garnet and to a variety of inferior stones. The ruby is supposed by Moslems to be a common mineral thoroughly “cooked” by the sun, and produced only on the summits of mountains inaccessible even to Alpinists. The idea may have originated from exaggerated legends of the Badakhshán country (supposed to be the home of the ruby) and its terrors of break-neck foot-paths, jagged peaks and horrid ravines: hence our “balas-ruby” through the Spanish corruption “Balaxe.” Epiphanius, archbishop of Salamis in Cyprus, who died A.D. 403, gives, in a little treatise (De duodecim gemmis rationalis summi sacerdotis Hebræorum Liber, opera Fogginii, Romae, 1743, p. 30), a precisely similar description of the mode of finding jacinths in Scythia. “In a wilderness in the interior of Great Scythia,” he writes, “there is a valley begirt with stony mountains as with walls. It is inaccessible to man, and so excessively deep that the bottom of the valley is invisible from the top of the surrounding mountains. So great is the darkness that it has the effect of a kind of chaos. To this place certain criminals are condemned, whose task it is to throw down into the valley slaughtered lambs, from which the skin has been first taken off. The little stones adhere to these pieces of flesh. Thereupon the eagles, which live on the summits of the mountains, fly down following the scent of the flesh, and carry away the lambs with the stones adhering to them. They, then, who are condemned to this place watch until the eagles have finished their meal, and run and take away the stones.” Epiphanius, who wrote this, is spoken of in terms of great respect by many ecclesiastical writers, and St. Jerome styles the treatise here quoted, “Egregium volumen, quod si legere volueris, plenissimam scientiam consequeris,” and, indeed, it is by no means improbable that it was from the account of Epiphanius that this story was first translated into Arabic. A similar account is given by Marco Polo and by Nicolò de Conti, as of a usage which they had heard was practiced in India, and the position ascribed to the mountain by Conti, namely, fifteen days’ journey north of Vijanagar, renders it highly probable that Golconda was alluded to. He calls the mountain Albenigaras, and says that it was infested with serpents. Marco Polo also speaks of these serpents, and while his account agrees with that of Sindbad, inasmuch as the serpents, which are the prey of Sindbad’s Rukh, are devoured by the Venetian’s eagles, that of Conti makes the vultures and eagles fly away with the meat to places where they may be safe from the serpents. (Introd. p. xiii., India in the Fifteenth Century, etc., R. H. Major, London, Hakluyt Soc. MDCCCLVII.)
2 Elder Victory: “Nasr” is a favourite name with Moslems.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Shaykh Nasr pursued, ‘Thou must know that the lord Solomon com misted this castle to my charge and taught me the language of birds and made me ruler over all the fowls which be in the world; wherefore each and every come hither once in the twelvemonth, and I pass them in review: then they depart; and this is why I dwell here.’ When Janshah heard this, he wept sore and said to the Shaykh, ‘O my father, how shall I do to get back to my native land?’ Replied the old man, ‘Know, O my son, that thou art near to the mountain Kaf, and there is no departing for thee from this place till the birds come, when I will give thee in charge to one of them, and he will bear thee to thy native country. Meanwhile tarry with me here and eat and drink and divert thyself with viewing the apartments of this castle.’ So Janshah abode with Shaykh Nasr, taking his pleasure in the Wady and eating of its fruits and laughing and making merry with the old man, and leading a right joyous life till the day appointed for the birds to pay their annual visit to the Governor. Thereupon the Shaykh said to him, ‘O Janshah, take the keys of the castle and solace thyself with exploring all its apartments and viewing whatever be therein, but as regards such a room, beware and again beware of opening its door; and if thou gainsay me and open it and enter there, through nevermore shalt thou know fair fortune.’ He repeated this charge again and again with much instance; then he went forth to meet the birds, which came up, kind by kind, and kissed his hands. Such was his case; but as regards Janshah, he went round about the castle, opening the various doors and viewing the apartments into which they led, till he came to the room which Shaykh Nasr had warned him not to open or enter. He looked at the door and its fashion pleased him, for it had on it a padlock of gold, and he said to himself, ‘This room must be goodlier than all the others; would Heaven I wist what is within it, that Shaykh Nasr should forbid me to open its door! There is no help but that I enter and see what is in this apartment; for whatso is decreed unto the creature perforce he must fulfil.’ So he put out his hand and unlocked the door and entering, found himself before a great basin; and hard by it stood a little pavilion, builded all of gold and silver and crystal, with lattice-windows of jacinth. The floor was paved with green beryl and balas rubies and emeralds and other jewels, set in the ground-work mosaic-fashion, and in the midmost of the pavilion was a jetting fountain in a golden basin, full of water and girt about with figures of beasts and birds, cunningly wrought of gold and silver and casting water from their mouths. When the zephyr blew on them, it entered their ears and therewith the figures sang out with birdlike song, each in its own tongue. Beside the fountain was a great open saloon with a high dais whereon stood a vast throne of carnelian, inlaid with pearls and jewels, over which was spread a tent of green silk fifty cubits in width and embroidered with gems fit for seal rings and purfled with precious metals. Within this tent was a closet containing the carpet of the lord Solomon (on whom be peace!); and the pavilion was compassed about with a vast garden full of fruit trees and streams; while near the palace were beds of roses and basil and eglantine and all manner sweet-smelling herbs and flowers. And the trees bore on the same boughs fruits fresh and dry and the branches swayed gracefully to the wooing of the wind. All this was in that one apartment and Janshah wondered thereat till he was weary of wonderment; and he set out to solace himself in the palace and the garden and to divert himself with the quaint and curious things they contained. And first looking at the basin he saw that the gravels of its bed were gems and jewels and noble metals; and many other strange things were in that apartment.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Janshah saw many strange things and admirable in that apartment. Then he entered the pavilion and mounting the throne, fell asleep under the tent set up thereover. He slept for a time and, presently awaking, walked forth and sat down on a stool before the door. As he sat, marvelling at the goodliness of that place, there flew up from mid sky three birds, in dove-form but big as eagles, and lighted on the brink of the basin, where they sported awhile. Then they put off their feathers and became three maidens,1 as they were moons, that had not their like in the whole world. They plunged into the basin and swam about and disported themselves and laughed, while Janshah marvelled at their beauty and loveliness and the grace and symmetry of their shapes. Presently, they came up out of the water and began walking about and taking their solace in the garden; and Janshah seeing them land was like to lose his wits. He rose and followed them, and when he overtook them, he saluted them and they returned his salam; after which quoth he, ‘Who are ye, O illustrious Princesses, and whence come ye?’ Replied the youngest damsel, ‘We are from the invisible world of Almighty Allah and we come hither to divert ourselves.’ He marvelled at their beauty and said to the youngest, ‘Have ruth on me and deign kindness to me and take pity on my case and on all that hath befallen me in my life.’ Rejoined she, ‘Leave this talk and wend thy ways’; whereat the tears streamed from his eyes, and he sighed heavily and repeated these couplets,
‘She shone out in the garden in garments all of green,
With open vest and collars and flowing hair beseen:
‘What is thy name?’ I asked her, and she replied, ‘I’m she
Who roasts the hearts of lovers on coals of love and teen.’
Of passion and its anguish to her made my moan;
‘Upon a rock,’ she answered, ‘thy plaints are wasted clean.’
‘Even if thy heart,’ I told her, ‘be rock in very deed,
Yet hath God made fair water well from the rock, I ween.’2
When the maidens heard his verses, they laughed and played and sang and made merry. Then he brought them somewhat of fruit, and they ate and drank and slept with him till the morning, when they donned their feather-suits, and resuming dove shape flew off and went their way. But as he saw them disappearing from sight, his reason well nigh fled with them, and he gave a great cry and fell down in a fainting fit and lay a-swooning all that day. While he was in this case Shaykh Nasr returned from the Parliament of the Fowls and sought for Janshah, that he might send him with them to his native land, but found him not and knew that he had entered the forbidden room. Now he had already said to the birds, ‘With me is a young man, a mere youth, whom destiny brought hither from a distant land; and I desire of you that ye take him up and carry him to his own country.’ And all answered, ‘We hear and we obey.’ So he ceased not searching for Janshah till he came to the forbidden door and seeing it open he entered and found the Prince lying a-swoon under a tree. He fetched scented waters and sprinkled them on his face, whereupon he revived and turned.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These are the “Swan-maidens” of whom Europe in late years has heard more than enough. It appears to me that we go much too far for an explanation of the legend; a high-bred girl is so like a swan in many points that the idea readily suggests itself. And it is also aided by the old Egyptian (and Platonic) belief in pre-existence and by the Rabbinic and Buddhistic doctrine of ante-natal sin, to say nothing of metempsychosis. (Joseph Ant. xvii.. 153.)
2 The lines have occurred before. I quote Mr. Payne for variety.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when Shaykh Nasr saw Janshah lying a-swoon under the tree he fetched him somewhat of scented waters and sprinkled them on his face. Thereupon he revived and turned right and left, but seeing none by him save the Shaykh, sighed heavily and repeated these couplets,
‘Like fullest moon she shines on happiest night,
Soft sided fair, with slender shape bedight.
Her eye-babes charm the world with gramarye;
Her lips remind of rose and ruby light.
Her jetty locks make night upon her hips;
Ware, lovers, ware ye of that curl’s despight!
Yea, soft her sides are, but in love her heart
Outhardens flint, surpasses syenite:
And bows of eyebrows shower glancey shafts
Despite the distance never fail to smite.
Then, ah, her beauty! all the fair it passes;
Nor any rival her who see the light.’
When Shaykh Nasr heard these verses, he said, ‘O my son, did I not warn thee not to open that door and enter that room? But now, O my son, tell me what thou sawest therein and acquaint me with all that betided thee.’ So Janshah related to him all that had passed between him and the three maidens, and Shaykh Nasr, who sat listening in silence said, ‘Know, O my son, that these three maidens are of the daughters of the Jann and come hither every year for a day, to divert themselves and make merry until mid afternoon, when they return to their own country.’ Janshah asked, ‘And where is their country?’; and the old man answered, ‘By Allah, O my son, I wot not:’ presently adding, ‘but now take heart and put away this love from thee and come with me, that I may send thee to thine own land with the birds.’ When Janshah heard this, he gave a great cry and fell down in a trance; and presently he came to himself, and said, ‘O my father indeed I care not to return to my native land: all I want is to foregather with these maidens and know, O my father, that I will never again name my people, though I die before thee.’ Then he wept and cried, ‘Enough for me that I look upon the face of her I love, although it be only once in the year!’ And he sighed deeply and repeated these couplets,
‘Would Heaven the Phantom1 spared the friend at night
And would this love for man were ever dight!
Were not my heart afire for love of you,
Tears ne’er had stained my cheeks nor dimmed my sight.
By night and day, I bid my heart to bear
Its griefs, while fires of love my body blight.’
Then he fell at Shaykh Nasr’s feet and kissed them and wept sore, crying, ‘Have pity on me, so Allah take pity on thee and aid me in my strait so Allah aid thee!’ Replied the old man, ‘By Allah O my son, I know nothing of these maidens nor where may be their country; but, O my son, if thy heart be indeed set on one of them, tarry with me till this time next year for they will assuredly reappear; and, when the day of their coming draweth near, hide thyself under a tree in the garden. As soon as they have alighted and doffed their feather-robes and plunged into the lake and are swimming about at a distance from their clothes, seize the vest of her whom thy soul desireth. When they see thee, they will come a bank and she, whose coat thou hast taken, will accost thee and say to thee with the sweetest of speech and the most witching of smiles, ‘Give me my dress, O my brother, that I may don it and veil my nakedness withal.’ But if thou yield to her prayer and give her back the vest thou wilt never win thy wish: nay, she will don it and fly away to her folk and thou wilt nevermore see her again Now when thou hast gained the vest, clap it under thine armpit and hold it fast, till I return from the Parliament of the Fowls, when I will make accord between thee and her and send thee back to thy native land, and the maiden with thee. And this, O my son, is all I can do for thee, nothing more.’ “— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al–Khayál”: it is a synonym of “al-Tayf’ and the nearest approach to our “ghost,” as has been explained. In poetry it is the figure of the beloved seen when dreaming.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “quoth Shaykh Nasr to Janshah, ‘Hold fast the feather-robe of her thy soul desireth and give it not back to her till I return from the Parliament of the Fowls. And this, O my son, is all I can do for thee, nothing more.’ When Janshah heard this, his heart was solaced and he abode with Shaykh Nasr yet another year, counting the days as they passed until the day of the coming of the birds. And when at last the appointed time arrived the old man said to him, ‘Do as I enjoined thee and charged thee with the maidens in the matter of the feather-dress, for I go to meet the birds;’ and Janshah replied, ‘I hear and I obey, O my father.’ Then the Shaykh departed whilst the Prince walked into the garden and hid himself under a tree, where none could see him. Here he abode a first day and a second and a third, but the maidens came not; whereat he was sore troubled and wept and sighed from a heart hard tried; and he ceased not weeping and wailing till he fainted away. When he came to himself, he fell to looking now at the basin and now at the welkin, and anon at the earth and anon at the open country, whilst his heart grieved for stress of love-longing. As he was in this case, behold, the three doves appeared in the firmament, eagle-sized as before, and flew till they reached the garden and lighted down beside the basin. They turned right and left; but saw no one, man or Jann; so they doffed their feather-suits and became three maidens. Then they plunged into the basin and swam about, laughing and frolicking; and all were mother-naked and fair as bars of virgin silver. Quoth the eldest, ‘O my sister, I fear lest there be some one lying ambushed for us in the pavilion. Answered the second, ‘O sister, since the days of King Solomon none hath entered the pavilion, be he man or Jann;’ and the youngest added, laughing, ‘By Allah, O my sisters, if there be any hidden there, he will assuredly take none but me.’ Then they continued sporting and laughing and Janshah’s heart kept fluttering for stress of passion: but he hid behind the tree so that he saw without being seen. Presently they swam out to the middle of the basin leaving their clothes on the bank. Hereupon he sprang to his feet, and running like the darting levee to the basin’s brink, snatched up the feather-vest of the youngest damsel, her on whom his heart was set and whose name was Shamsah the Sun-maiden. At this the girls turned and seeing him, were affrighted and veiled their shame from him in the water. Then they swam near the shore and looking on his favour saw that he was bright faced as the moon on the night of fullness and asked him, ‘Who art thou and how camest thou hither and why hast thou taken the clothes of the lady Shamsah?’; and he answered, ‘Come hither to me and I will tell you my tale.’ Quoth Shamsah, ‘What deed is this, and why hast thou taken my clothes, rather than those of my sisters?’ Quoth he, ‘O light of mine eyes, come forth of the water, and I will recount thee my case and acquaint thee why I chose thee out.’ Quoth she, ‘O my lord and coolth of my eyes and fruit of my heart, give me my clothes, that I may put them on and cover my nakedness withal; then will I come forth to thee.’ But he replied, ‘O Princess of beautiful ones, how can I give thee back thy clothes and slay myself for love longing? Verily, I will not give them to thee, till Shaykh Nasr, the king of the birds, shall return.’ Quoth she, ‘If thou wilt not give me my clothes withdraw a little apart from us, that my sisters may land and dress themselves and lend me somewhat wherewithal to cover my shame.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered he, and walked away from them into the pavilion, whereupon the three Princesses came out and the two elder, donning their dress, gave Shamsah somewhat thereof, not enough to fly withal, and she put it on and came forth of the water, and stood before him, as she were the rising full moon or a browsing gazelle. Then Shamsah entered the pavilion, where Janshah was still sitting on the throne; so she saluted him and taking seat near him, said, ‘O fair of face, thou hast undone thyself and me; but tell us thy adventures that we may ken how it is with thee.’ At these words he wept till he drenched his dress with his tears; and when she saw that he was distracted for love of her, she rose and taking him by the hand, made him sit by her side and wiped away the drops with her sleeve; and said she, ‘O fair of face, leave this weeping and tell us thy tale.’ So he related to her all that had befallen him and described to her all he had seen,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the lady Shamsah said to Janshah, ‘Tell us thy tale;’ so he related to her all that had befallen him; and, after she had lent attentive ear she sighed and said, ‘O my lord, since thou art so fondly in love with me, give me my dress, that I may fly to my folk, I and my sisters, and tell them what affection thou hast conceived for me, and after I will come back to thee and carry thee to thine own country.’ When he heard this, he wept sore and replied, ‘Is it lawful to thee before Allah to slay me wrongfully?’ She asked, ‘O my lord, why should I do such wrongous deed?’; and he answered, ‘If I give thee thy gear thou wilt fly away from me, and I shall die forthright.’ Princess Shamsah laughed at this and so did her sisters; then said she to him, ‘Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, for I must needs marry thee.’ So saying, she bent down to him and embraced him and pressing him to her breast kissed him between the eyes and on his cheeks. They clipped and clasped each other awhile, after which they drew apart and sat down on the throne. Then the eldest Princess went out into the garden and, plucking somewhat of fruits and flowers, brought them into the pavilion; and they ate and drank and laughed and sported and made merry. Now Janshah was singular in beauty and loveliness and slender shape and symmetry and grace, and the Princess Shamsah said to him, ‘O my beloved, by Allah, I love thee with exceeding love and will never leave thee!’ When he heard her words, his breast broadened and he laughed for joy till he showed his teeth; and they abode thus awhile in mirth and gladness and frolic. And when they were at the height of their pleasure and joyance, behold, Shaykh Nasr returned from the Parliament of the Fowls and came in to them; whereupon they all rose to him and saluted him and kissed his hands. He gave them welcome and bade them be seated. So they sat down and he said to Princess Shamsah, ‘Verily this youth loveth thee with exceeding love; Allah upon thee, deal kindly with him, for he is of the great ones of mankind and of the sons of the kings, and his father ruleth over the land of Kabul and his reign compasseth a mighty empire.’ Quoth she, ‘I hear and I obey thy behest’; and, kissing the Shaykh’s hands stood before him in respect. Quoth he, ‘If thou say sooth, swear to me by Allah that thou wilt never betray him, what while thou abidest in the bonds of life.’ So she swore a great oath that she would never betray Janshah, but would assuredly marry him, and added, ‘Know, O Shaykh Nasr, that I never will forsake him.’ The Shaykh believed in her oath and said to Janshah, ‘Thanks be to Allah, who hath made you arrive at this understanding!’ Hereupon the Prince rejoiced with exceeding joy, and he and Shamsah abode three months with Shaykh Nasr, feasting and toying and making merry.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that, “Janshah and the lady Shamsah abode three months with Shaykh Nasr, feasting and toying and making merry. And at the end of that time she said to Janshah, ‘I wish to go with thee to thy mother land, where thou shalt marry me and we will abide there.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ answered he and took counsel with Shaykh Nasr who said to him, ‘Go thou home, I commend her to thy care.’ Then said she, ‘O Shaykh Nasr, bid him render me my feather-suit.’ So the Shaykh bade Janshah give it to her, and he went straightways into the pavilion and brought it out for her. There upon she donned it and said to him, ‘Mount my back and shut thine eyes and stop thine ears, so thou mayst not hear the roar of the revolving sphere; and keep fast hold of my feathers, lest thou fall off.’ He did as she bade him and, as she stretched her wings to fly, Shaykh Nasr said, ‘Wait a while till I describe to thee the land Kabul, lest you twain miss your way.’ So she delayed till he had said his say and had bidden them farewell, commending the Prince to her care. She took leave of her sisters and bade them return to her folk and tell them what had befallen her with Janshah; then, rising into the air without stay or delay she flew off, like the wafts of the wind or the ramping leven. Her sisters also took flight and returning home delivered her message to their people. And she stayed not her course from the forenoon till the hour of mid- afternoon prayer (Janshah being still on her back), when she espied afar off a Wady abounding in trees and streams and she said to Janshah, ‘I am thinking to alight in this valley, that we may solace ourselves amongst its trees and herbage and here rest for the night.’ Quoth he, “Do what seemeth meet to thee!’ So she swooped down from the lift and alighted in the Wady, when Janshah dismounted and kissing her between the eyes,1 sat with her awhile on the bank of a river there; then they rose and wandered about the valley, taking their pleasure therein and eating of the fruits of the trees, until nightfall, when they lay down under a tree and slept till the morning dawned. As soon as it was day, the Princess arose and, bidding Janshah mount, flew on with him till noon, when she perceived by the appearance of the buildings which Shaykh Nasr had described to her, that they were nearing the city Kabul. So she swooped down from the welkin and alighted in a wide plain, a blooming champaign, wherein were gazelles straying and springs playing and rivers flowing and ripe fruits growing. So Janshah dismounted and kissed her between the eyes; and she asked him, ‘O my beloved and coolth of mine eyes, knowest thou how many days’ journey we have come since yesterday?’; and he answered, ‘No,’ when she said, ‘We have come thirty months’ journey.’ Quoth he, ‘Praised be Allah for safety!’ Then they sat down side by side and ate and drank and toyed and laughed. And whilst they were thus pleasantly engaged, behold, there came up to them two of the King’s Mamelukes of those who had been of the Prince’s company, one of them was he whom he had left with the horses, when he embarked in the fishing-boat and the other had been of his escort in the chase. As soon as they saw Janshah, both knew him and saluted him; then said they, ‘With thy leave, we will go to thy sire and bear him the glad tidings of thy coming.’ Replied the Prince, ‘Go ye to my father and acquaint him with my case, and fetch us tents, for we will tarry here seven days to rest ourselves till he make ready his retinue to meet us, that we may enter in stateliest state.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 He does not kiss her mouth because he intends to marry her.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Janshah said to the two Mamelukes, ‘Go ye to my sire and acquaint him with my case and fetch us tents, for we will abide here seven days to rest ourselves, till he make ready his retinue to meet us that we may enter in the stateliest state.’ So the officers hastened back to King Teghmus and said to him, ‘Good news, O King of the age!’ Asked he, ‘What good tidings bring ye: is my son Janshah come back?’; and they answered, ‘Yes, thy son Janshah hath returned from his strangerhood and is now near at hand in the Kirání mead.’ Now when the King heard this, he joyed with great joy and fell down in a swoon for excess of gladness; then, coming to himself, he bade his Wazir give each of the Mamelukes a splendid suit of honour and a sum of money. The minister replied, ‘I hear and obey,’ and forthright did his bidding and said to them, ‘Take this in turn for the good tidings ye bring, whether ye lie or say sooth.’ They replied, ‘Indeed we lie not, for but now we sat with him and saluted him and kissed his hands and he bade us fetch him tents, for that he would sojourn in the meadow seven days, till such time as the Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees should come out to meet him.’ Quoth the King, ‘How is it with my son?’ and quoth they, ‘He hath with him a Houri, as he had brought her out of Paradise.’ At this, King Teghmus bade beat the kettledrums and sound the trumpets for gladness, and despatched messengers to announce the good news to Janshah’s mother and to the wives of the Emirs and Wazirs and Lords of the realm: so the criers spread themselves about the city and acquainted the people with the coming of Prince Janshah. Then the King made ready, and, setting out for the Kirani meadow with his horsemen and footmen, came upon Janshah who was sitting at rest with the lady Shamsah beside him and, behold, all suddenly drew in sight. The Prince rose to his feet and walked forward to meet them; and the troops knew him and dismounted, to salute him and kiss his hands: after which he set out preceded by the men in single file till he came to his sire, who, at sight of his son threw himself from his horse’s back and clasped him to his bosom and wept flooding tears of joy. Then they took horse again with the retinue riding to the right and left and fared forward till they came to the river banks; when the troops alighted and pitched their tents and pavilions and standards to the blare of trump and the piping of fife and the dub-a-dub of drum and tom-tom. Moreover the King bade the tent pitchers set up a pavilion of red silk for the Princess Shamsah, who put off her scanty raiment of feathers for fine robes and, entering the pavilion, there took seat. And as she sat in her beauty, behold, the King and his son Janshah came in to her, and when she saw Teghmus, she rose and kissed the ground before him. The King sat down and seating Janshah on his right hand and Princess Shamsah on his left, bade her welcome and said to his son, ‘Tell me all that hath befallen thee in this thy long strangerhood.’ So Janshah related to him the whole of his adventures from first to last, whereat he marvelled with exceeding marvel and turning to the Princess, said, ‘Laud to Allah for that He hath caused thee to reunite me with my son! Verily this is of His exceeding bounty!’”1 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 It should be “manifest” excellence. (Koran xxvii. 16.)
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “King Teghmus said to the lady Shamsah, ‘Laud to Allah for that He hath caused thee to reunite me with my son! Verily this is of His exceeding bounty.’ And now I would have thee ask of me what thou wilt, that I may do it in thine honour.’ Quoth she, ‘I ask of thee that thou build me a palace in the midst of a flower garden, with water running under it.’ And the King answered, ‘I hear and obey.’ And behold, up came Janshah’s mother, attended by all the wives of the Wazirs and Emirs and nobles and city notables. When her son had sight of her, he rose and leaving the tent, went forth to meet her and they embraced a long while, whilst the Queen wept for excess of joy and with tears trickling from her eyes repeated the following verses,
‘Joy so o’ercometh me, for stress of joy
In that which gladdeneth me I fain shed tears:
Tears are become your nature, O my eyes,
Who weep for joyance as for griefs and fears.’
And they complained to each other of all their hearts had suffered from the long separation. Then the King departed to his pavilion and Janshah carried his mother to his own tent, where they sat talking till there came up some of the lady Shamsah’s attendants who said, The Princess is now walking hither in order to salute thee. When the Queen heard this, she rose and going to meet Shamsah, saluted her and seated her awhile by her side. Presently the Queen and her retinue of noble women, the spouses of the Emirs and Grandees, returned with Princess Shamsah to the tent occupied by her daughter-in-law and sat there. Meanwhile, King Teghmus gave great largesse to his levies and liege and rejoiced in his son with exceeding joy, and they tarried there ten days, feasting and merry making and living a most joyous life. At the end of this time, the King commanded a march and they all returned to the capital, so he took horse surrounded by all the troops with the Wazirs and Chamberlains to his right and left nor ceased they faring till they entered the city, which was decorated after the goodliest fashion; for the folk had adorned the houses with precious stuffs and jewellery and spread costly bro cedes under the hoofs of the horses. The drums beat for glad tidings and the Grandees of the kingdom rejoiced and brought rich gifts and the lookers-on were filled with amazement. Furthermore, they fed the mendicants and Fakirs and held high festival for the space of ten days, and the lady Shamsah joyed with exceeding joy whenas she saw this. Then King Teghmus summoned architects and builders and men of art and bade them build a palace in that garden. So they straightway proceeded to do his bidding; and, when Janshah knew of his sire’s command he caused the artificers to fetch a block of white marble and carve it and hollow it in the semblance of a chest; which being done he took the feather-vest of Princess Shamsah wherewith she had flown with him through the air: then, sealing the cover with melted lead, he ordered them to bury the box in the foundations and build over it the arches whereon the palace was to rest. They did as he bade them, nor was it long before the palace was finished: then they furnished it and it was a magnificent edifice, standing in the midst of the garden, with streams flowing under its walls.1 Upon this the King caused Janshah’s wedding to be celebrated with the greatest splendour and they brought the bride to the castle in state procession and went their ways. When the lady Shamsah entered, she smelt the scent of her feather-gear.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The phrase is Koranic used to describe Paradise, and Damascus is a familiar specimen of a city under which a river, the Baradah, passes, distributed into a multitude of canals.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when the lady Shamsah entered the new palace, she smelt the scent of her flying feather-gear and knew where it was and determined to take it. So she waited till midnight, when Janshah was drowned in sleep; then she rose and going straight to the place where the marble coffer was buried under the arches she hollowed the ground alongside till she came upon it; when she removed the lead where with it was soldered and, taking out the feather-suit, put it on. Then she flew high in air and perching on the pinnacle of the palace, cried out to those who were therein, saying, ‘I pray you fetch me Janshah, that I may bid him farewell.’ So they told him and he came out and, seeing her on the terrace roof of the palace, clad in her feather-raiment, asked her, ‘Why hast thou done this deed?’; and she answered ‘O my beloved and coolth of mine eyes and fruit of my heart, by Allah, I love thee passing dear and I rejoice with exceeding joy in that I have restored thee to thy friends and country and thou hast seen thy mother and father. And now, if thou love me as I love thee, come to me at Takni, the Castle of Jewels.’ So saying, she flew away forthright to find her family and friends, and Janshah fell down fainting, being well-nigh dead for despair. They carried the news to King Teghmus, who mounted at once and riding to the palace, found his son lying senseless on the ground; whereat he wept knowing that the swoon was caused by the loss of his love, and sprinkled rose-water on his face.1 When the Prince came to himself and saw his sire sitting at his head, he wept at the thought of losing his wife and the King asked what had befallen him. So he replied, ‘Know, O my father, that the lady Shamsah is of the daughters of the Jann and she hath done such and such’ (telling him all that had happened); and the King said, ‘O my son, be not troubled and thus concerned, for I will assemble all the merchants and wayfarers in the land and enquire of them anent that castle. If we can find out where it is, we will journey thither and demand the Princess Shamsah of her people, and we hope in Allah the Almighty that He will give her back to thee and thou shalt consummate thy marriage.’ Then he went out and, calling his four Wazirs without stay or delay, bade them assemble all the merchants and voyagers in the city and question them of Takni, the Castle of Jewels, adding, ‘Whoso knoweth it and can guide us thither, I will surely give him fifty thousand gold pieces.’ The Wazirs accordingly went forth at once and did as the King bade them, but neither trader nor traveller could give them news of Takni, the Castle of Jewels; so they returned and told the King. Thereupon he bade bring beautiful slave-girls and concubines and singers and players upon instruments of music, whose like are not found but with the Kings: and sent them to Janshah, so haply they might divert him from the love of the lady Shamsah. Moreover, he despatched couriers and spies to all the lands and islands and climes, to enquire for Takni, the Castle of Jewels, and they made quest for it two months long, but none could give them news thereof. So they returned and told the King, whereupon he wept bitter tears and going in to his son found Janshah sitting amidst the concubines and singers and players on harp and zither and so forth, not one of whom could console him for the lady Shamsah. Quoth Teghmus, O my son, I can find none who knoweth this Castle of Jewels; but I will bring thee a fairer one than she.’ When Janshah heard this his eyes ran over with tears and he recited these two couplets,
‘Patience hath fled, but passion fareth not;
And all my frame with pine is fever-hot:
When will the days my lot with Shamsah join?
Lo, all my bones with passion-lowe go rot!’
Now there was a deadly feud between King Teghmus and a certain King of Hind, by name Kafíd, who had great plenty of troops and warriors and champions; and under his hand were a thousand puissant chieftains, each ruling over a thousand tribes whereof every one could muster four thousand cavaliers. He reigned over a thousand cities each guarded by a thousand forts and he had four Wazirs and under him ruled Emirs, Princes and Sovereigns; and indeed he was a King of great might and prowess whose armies filled the whole earth. Now King Teghmus had made war upon him and ravaged his reign and slain his men and of his treasures had made gain. But when it came to King Kafid’s knowledge that King Teghmus was occupied with the love of his son, so that he neglected the affairs of the state and his troops were grown few and weak by reason of his care and concern for his son’s state, he summoned his Wazirs and Emirs and said to them, ‘Ye all know that whilom King Teghmus invaded our dominions and plundered our possessions and slew my father and brethren, nor indeed is there one of you, but he hath harried his lands and carried off his goods and made prize of his wives and slain some kinsmen of his. Now I have heard this day that he is absorbed in the love of his son Janshah, and that his troops are grown few and weak; and this is the time to take our blood revenge on him. So make ready for the march and don ye your harness of battle; and let nothing stay or delay you, and we will go to him and fall upon him and slay him and his son, and possess ourselves of his reign.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 It may be noted that rose-water is sprinkled on the faces of the “nobility and gentry, “ common water being good enough for the commonalty. I have had to drink tea made in compliment with rose-water and did not enjoy it.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Kafid, King of Hind, commanded his troops and armies to mount and make for the dominions of King Teghmus, saying, ‘Get ye ready for the march and don ye your harness of war; and let nothing stay or delay you; so we will go to him and fall upon him and slay him and his son and possess ourselves of his reign.’ They all answered with one voice, saying, ‘We hear and obey,’ and fell at once to equipping themselves and levying troops; and they ceased not their preparations for three months and, when all was in readiness, they beat the drums and sounded the trumps and flew the flags and banners: then King Kafid set out at the head of his host and they fared on till they reached the frontiers of the land of Kabul, the dominions of King Teghmus, where they began to harry the land and do havoc among the folk, slaughtering the old and taking the young prisoners. When the news reached King Teghmus, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and assembling his Grandees and officers of state, said to them ‘Know that Kafid hath come to our land and hath entered the realm we command and is resolved to fight us hand to hand, and he leadeth troops and champions and warriors, whose number none knoweth save Allah Almighty; what deme deem ye?’ Replied they, ‘O King of the age, let us go out to him and give him battle and drive him forth of our country; and thus deem we.’ So he bade them prepare for battle and brought forth to them hauberks and cuirasses and helmets and swords and all manner of warlike gear, such as lay low warriors and do to death the champions of mankind. So the troops and braves and champions flocked together and they set up the standards and beat the drums and sounded the trumpets and clashed the cymbals and piped on the pipes; and King Teghmus marched out at the head of his army, to meet the hosts of Hind. And when he drew near the foe, he called a halt, and encamping with his host in the Zahrán Valley,1 hard by the frontier of Kabul despatched to King Kafid by messenger the following letter: ‘Know that what thou hast done is of the doings of the villain rabble and wert thou indeed a King, the son of a King, thou hadst not done thus, nor hadst thou invaded my kingdom and slain my subjects and plundered their property and wrought upright upon them. Knowest thou not that all this is the fashion of a tyrant! Verily, had I known that thou durst harry my dominions, I had come to thee before thy coming and had prevented thee this long while since. Yet, even now, if thou wilt retire and leave mischief between us and thee, well and good; but if thou return not, meet me in the listed field and measure thyself with me in cut and thrust.’ Lastly he sealed his letter and committed to an officer of his army and sent with him spies to spy him out news. The messenger fared forth with the missive and, drawing near the enemy’s camp, he descried a multitude of tents of silk and satin, with pennons of blue sendal, and amongst them a great pavilion of red satin, surrounded by a host of guards. He ceased not to advance till he made this tent and found on asking that it was that of King Kafid, whom he saw seated on a chair set with jewels, in the midst of his Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees. So he brought out the letter and straightway there came up to him a company of guards, who took it from him and carried it to the King; and Kafid read it and wrote a reply to this purport: ‘After the usual invocations, We let King Teghmus know that we mean to take our blood-revenge on thee and wash out our stain and waste thy reign and rend the curtain in twain and slay the old men and enslave the young men. But to-morrow, come thou forth to combat in the open plain, and to show thee thrust and fight will I deign.’ Then he sealed the letter and delivered it to the messenger, who carried it to King Teghmus.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The “Valley Flowery:” Zahrán is the name of a place near Al–Medinah.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “King Kafid delivered the answering letter to the messenger who carried it to King Teghmus and delivered it, after kissing the ground between his hands. Then he reported all that he had seen, saying, ‘O King of the age, I espied warriors and horsemen and footmen beyond count nor can I assist thee to the amount.’ When Teghmus read the reply and comprehended its contents, he was with furious rage enraged and bade his Wazir Ayn Zar take horse and fall upon the army of Kafid with a thousand cavaliers, in the middle watch of the night when they would easily ride home and slay all before them. Ayn Zar replied, ‘I hear and I obey,’ and at once went forth to do his bidding. Now King Kafid had a Wazir, Ghatrafán1 by name, whom he bade take five thousand horse and attack the host of King Teghmus in like manner. So Ghatrafan did his bidding and set out on his enterprise marching till midnight. Thus the two parties met halfway and the Wazir Ghatrafan fell upon the Wazir, Ayn Zar. Then man cried out against man and there befell sore battle between them till break of day, when Kafid’s men were routed and fled back to their King in confusion. As Kafid saw this, he was wroth beyond measure and said to the fugitives, ‘Woe to you! What hath befallen you, that ye have lost your captains?’ and they replied, ‘O King of the age, as the Wazir Ghatrafan rode forth to fall upon King Teghmus, there appeared to us halfway and when night was half over, the Wazir, Ayn Zar, with cavaliers and champions, and we met on the slopes of Wady Zahran; but ere we were where we found ourselves in the enemy’s midst, eye meeting eye; and we fought a fierce fight with them from midnight till morning, many on either side being slain. Then the Wazir and his men fell to shouting and smiting the elephants on the face till they took fright at their furious blows, and turning tail to flee, trampled down the horsemen, whilst none could see other for the clouds of dust. The blood ran like a rain torrent and had we not fled, we had all been cut off to the last man.’ When King Kafid heard this, he exclaimed, ‘May the sun not bless you and may he be wroth with you and sore be his wrath!’ Meanwhile Ayn Zar, the Wazir, returned to King Teghmus and told him what had happened. The King gave him joy of his safety and rejoiced greatly and bade beat the drums and sound the trumpets, in honour of the victory; after which he called the roll of his troops and behold, two hundred of his stoutest champions had fallen. Then King Kafid marched his army into the field and drew them out ordered for battle in fifteen lines of ten thousand horses each, under the command of three hundred captains, mounted on elephants and chosen from amongst the doughtiest of his warriors and his champions. So he set up his standards and banners and beat the drums and blew the trumpets whilst the braves sallied forth, offering battle. As for King Teghmus, he drew out his troops line after line and lo! there were ten of ten thousand horses each, and with him were an hundred champions, riding on his right hand and on his left. Then fared forward to the fight each renowned knight, and the hosts clashed together in their might, whilst the earth for all its wideness was straitened because of the multitude of the cavaliers and ears were deafened by drums and cymbals beating and pipes and hautboys sounding and trumpets blaring and by the thunder of horse-tramp and the shouting of men. The dust arched in canopy over their heads and they fought a sore fight from the first of the day till the fall of darkness, when they separated and each army drew off to its own camp.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Proud or Petulant.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “each army drew off to its own camp. Then King Kafid called the roll of his troops and, finding that he had lost five thousand men, raged with great rage; and King Teghmus mustered his men and seeing that of them were slain three thousand riders, the bravest of his braves, was wroth with exceeding wrath. On the morrow King Kafid again pushed into the plain and did duty as before, while each man strove his best to snatch victory for himself; and Kafid cried out to his men, saying, ‘Is there any of you will sally forth into the field and open us the chapter of fray and fight?’ And behold came out from the ranks a warrior named Barkayk, a mighty man of war who, when he reached the King, alighted from his elephant and kissing the earth before him, sought of him leave to challenge the foe to combat singular. Then he mounted his elephant and driving into mid-field, cried out, ‘Who is for duello, who is for derring do, who is for knightly devoir?’ When King Teghmus heard this, he said to his troops, ‘Which of you will do single battle with this sworder?’ And behold, a cavalier came out from the ranks, mounted on a charger, mighty of make, and driving up to the King kissed the earth before him and craved his permission to engage Barkayk. Then he mounted again and charged at Barkayk, who said to him, ‘Who art thou and what art thou called, that thou makest mock of me by coming out against me and challenging me, alone?’ ‘My name is Ghazanfar1 son of Kamkhíl,’ replied the Kabul champion; and the other, ‘I have heard tell of thee in my own country; so up and do battle between the ranks of the braves!’ Hearing these words Ghazanfar drew a mace of iron from under his thigh and Barkayk took his good sword in hand, and they laid on load till Barkayk smote Ghazanfar on the head with his blade, but the morion turned the blow and no hurt befell him therefrom; whereupon Ghazanfar, in his turn, dealt Barkayk so terrible a stroke on the head with his mace, that he levelled him down to his elephant’s back and slew him. With this out sallied another and crying to Ghazanfar, ‘Who be thou that thou shouldst slay my brother?’; hurled a javelin at him with such force that it pierced his thigh and nailed his coat of mail to his flesh. Then Ghazanfar, feeling his hurt, hent his sword in hand and smote at Barkayk’s brother and cut him in sunder, and he fell to the earth, wallowing in his life blood, whilst the challenger of Kabul galloped back to King Teghmus. Now when Kafid saw the death of his champions, he cried out to his troops, saying, ‘Down with you to the plain and strike with might and main!’ as also did King Teghmus, and the two armies fought the fiercest of fights. Horse neighed against horse and man cried out upon man and brands were bared, whilst the drums beat and the trumpets blared; and horseman charged upon horseman and every brave of renown pushed forward, whilst the faint of heart fled from the lunge of lance and men heard nought but slogan-cry and the clash and clang of armoury. Slain were the warriors that were slain2 and they stayed not from the mellay till the decline of the sun in the heavenly dome, when the Kings drew off their armies and returned each to its own camp.3 Then King Teghmus took tally of his men and found that he had lost five thousand, and four standards had been broken to bits, whereat he was sore an-angered; whilst King Kafid in like manner counted his troops and found that he had lost six hundred, the bravest of his braves, and nine standards were wanting to the full tale. The two armies ceased joining battle and rested on their arms three days’ space, after which Kafid wrote a letter and sent it by messenger to a King called Fakun al-Kalb (with whom he claimed kinship by the spindle side): and this kinsman forthwith mustered his men and marched to meet the King of Hind.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “King Fakun mustered his men and marched to meet the King of Hind: and whileas King Teghmus was sitting at his pleasance, there came one in to him and said, ‘I see from afar a cloud of dust spireing high in air and overspreading the lift.’ So he commanded a company to fare forth and learn the meaning of this; and, crying, ‘To hear is to obey,’ they sallied out and presently returned and said to him, ‘O King, when we drew near the cloud of dust, the wind rent it and it lifted and showed seven standards and under each standard three thousand horse, making for King Kafid’s camp.’ Then King Fakun joined himself to the King of Hind and saluting him, asked, ‘How is it with thee, and what be this war in which thou arrest?’; and Kafid answered, ‘Knowest thou not that King Teghmus is my enemy and the murtherer of my father and brothers? Wherefore I am come forth to do battle with him and take my brood wreak on him.’ Quoth Fakun, ‘The blessing of the sun be upon thee!’; and the King of Hind carried King Fakun al-Kalb to his tent and rejoiced in him with exceeding joy. Such was the case of the two hostile Kings; but as regards King Janshah, he abode two months shut up in his palace, without seeing his father or allowing one of the damsels in his service to come in to him; at the end of which time he grew troubled and restless and said to his attendants, ‘What aileth my father that he cometh not to visit me?’ They told him that he had gone forth to do battle with King Kafid, whereupon quoth Janshah, ‘Bring me my steed, that I may go to my sire.’ They replied, ‘We hear and obey,’ and brought his horse; but he said in himself, ‘I am taken up with the thought of myself and my love and I deem well to mount and ride for the city of the Jews, where haply Allah shall grant me the boon to meet the merchant who hired me for the ruby business and may be he will deal with me as he dealt before, for none knoweth whence good cometh.’ So he took with him a thousand horse and set out, the folk saying, ‘At last Janshah hath fared forth to join his father in the field, and to fight by his side;’ and they stinted not pushing on till dusk, when they halted for the night in a vast meadow. As soon as he knew that all his men were asleep, the Prince rose privily and girding his waist, mounted his horse and rode away intending to make Baghdad, because he had heard from the Jews that a caravan came thence to their city once in every two years and he made up his mind to journey thither with the next cafilah. When his men awoke and missed the Prince and his horse, they mounted and sought him right and left but, finding no trace of him, rejoined his father and told him what his son had done; whereat he was wroth beyond measure and cast the crown from his head, whilst the sparks were like to fly from his mouth, and he said ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might but in Allah! Verily I have lost my son, and the enemy is still before me.’ But his Wazirs and vassals said to him, ‘Patience, O King of the age! Patience bringeth weal in wake.’ Meanwhile Janshah, parted from his lover and pained for his father, was in sore sorrow and dismay, with heart seared and eyes tear-bleared and unable to sleep night or day. But when his father heard the loss his host had endured, he declined battle, and fled before King Kafid, and retiring to his city, closed the gates and strengthened the walls. Thereupon King Kafid followed him and sat down before the town; offering battle seven nights and eight days, after which he withdrew to his tents, to tend his wounded while the citizens defended themselves as they best could, fortifying the place and setting up mangonels and other engines on the walls. Such was the condition of the two Kings, and war raged between them for a space of seven years.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Kings Teghmus and Kafid continued in this condition for seven years; but, as regards Janshah, he rode through wild and wold and when ever he came to a town he asked anent Takni, the Castle of Jewels, but none knew of it and all answered, ‘Of a truth we never heard of such place, not even by name.’ At last he happened to enquire concerning the city of the Jews from a merchant who told him that it was situated in the extreme Orient, adding, ‘A caravan will start this very month for the city of Mizrakán in Hind; whither do thou accompany us and we will fare on to Khorasan and thence to the city of Shima’ún and Khwárazm, from which latter place the City of the Jews is distant a year and three months’ journey.’ So Janshah waited till the departure of the caravan, when he joined himself thereto and journeyed, till he reached the city of Mizrakan whence, after vainly asking for Takni, the Castle of Jewels, he set out and enduring on the way great hardships and perils galore and the extreme of hunger and thirst, he arrived at the town of Shima’un. Here he made enquiry for the City of the Jews, and they directed him to the road thither. So he fared forth and journeyed days and nights till he came to the place where he had given the apes the slip, and continued his journey thence to the river, on the opposite bank of which stood the City of the Jews. He sat down on the shore and waited till the Sabbath came round and the river dried up by decree of Allah Almighty, when he crossed over to the opposite bank and, entering the city, betook himself to the house wherein he had lodged on his former journey. The Jew and his family saluted him and rejoiced in his return and, setting meat and drink before him, asked, ‘Where hast thou been during thine absence?’; and he answered, ‘In the kingdom of Almighty Allah!’1 He lay with them that night and on the morrow he went out to solace himself with a walk about the city and presently heard a crier crying aloud and saying, ‘O folk, who will earn a thousand gold pieces and a fair slave-girl and do half a day’s work for us?’ So Janshah went up to him and said, ‘I will do this work.’2 Quoth the crier, ‘Follow me,’ and carrying him to the house of the Jew merchant, where he had been afore time, said, ‘This young man will do thy need.’ The merchant not recognising him gave him welcome and carried him into the Harim, where he set meat and drink before him, and he ate and drank. Then he brought him the money and formally made over to him the handsome slave-girl with whom he lay that night. As soon as morning dawned, he took the diners and the damsel and, committing them to his Jew host with whom he had lodged afore time, returned to the merchant, who mounted and rode out with him, till they came to the foot of the tall and towering mountain, where the merchant, bringing out a knife and cords, said to Janshah, ‘Throw the mare.’ So he threw her and bound her four legs with the cords and slaughtered her and cut off her head and four limbs and slit her belly, as ordered by the Jew; whereupon quoth he, ‘Enter her belly, till I sew it up on thee; and whatsoever thou seest therein, tell me of it, for this is the work whose wage thou hast taken.’ So Janshah entered the mare’s belly and the merchant sewed it up on him; then, withdrawing to a fair distance, hid himself. And after an hour a great bird swooped down from the lift and, snatching up the carcass in his pounces soared high toward the sky. Then he perched upon the mountain peak and would have eaten the prey, but Janshah sensing his intent took out his knife and slit the mare’s belly and came forth. The bird was scared at his sight and flew away, and Janshah went up to a place whence he could see below, and looking down, espied the merchant standing at the foot of the mountain, as he were a sparrow. So he cried out to him, ‘What is thy will, O merchant?’ Replied the Jew, ‘Throw me down of the stones that lie about thee, that I may direct thee in the way down.’ Quoth Janshah, ‘Thou art he who didst with me thus and thus five years ago, and through thee I suffered hunger and thirst and sore toil and much trouble; and now thou hast brought me hither once more and thinkest to destroy me. By Allah, I will not throw thee aught!’ So saying, he turned from him and set out for where lived Shaykh Nasr, the King of the Birds.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Janshah took the way for where lived Shaykh Nasr, the King of the Birds. And he ceased not faring on many days and nights, tearful-eyed and heavy-hearted; eating, when he was anhungered, of the growth of the ground and drinking, when he thirsted, of its streams, till he came in sight of the Castle of the lord Solomon and saw Shaykh Nasr sitting at the gate. So he hastened up to him and kissed his hands; and the Shaykh saluted him and bade him welcome and said to him, ‘O my son, what aileth thee that thou returnest to this place, after I sent thee home with the Princess Shamsah, cool of eyes and broad of breast?’ Janshah wept and told him all that had befallen him and how she had flown away from him, saying, ‘An thou love me, come to me in Takni, the Castle of Jewels;’ at which the old man marvelled and said, ‘By Allah, O my son, I know it not, nor, by the virtue of our lord Solomon, have I ever in my life heard its name!’ Quoth Janshah, ‘What shall I do? I am dying of love and longing.’ Quoth Shaykh Nasr, ‘Take patience until the coming of the birds, when we will enquire at them of Takni, the Castle of Jewels; haply one of them shall wot thereof.’ So Janshah’s heart was comforted and, entering the Palace, he went straight to the chamber which gave upon the Lake in which he had seen the three maidens. After this he abode with Shaykh Nasr for a while and, one day as he was sitting with him, the Shaykh said, ‘O my son, rejoice for the time of the birds’ coming draweth nigh.’ Janshah gladdened to hear the news; and after a few days the birds began to come and Shaykh Nasr said to him, ‘O my son, learn these names1 and address thyself with me to meet the birds.’ Presently, the fowls came flying up and saluted Shaykh Nasr, kind after kind, and he asked them of Takni, the Castle of Jewels, but they all made answer, ‘Never heard we of such a place.’ At these words Janshah wept and lamented till he swooned away; whereupon Shaykh Nasr called a huge volatile and said to him, ‘Carry this youth to the land of Kabul,’ and described to him the country and the way thither. Then he set Janshah on the bird’s back, saying, ‘Be careful to sit straight and beware of leaning to either side, else thou wilt be torn to pieces in the air; and stop thine ears from the wind, lest thou be dazed by the noise of the revolving sphere and the roaring of the seas.’ Janshah resolved to do his bidding and the bird took flight high in sky and flew with him a day and a night, till he set him down by the King of the Beasts, whose name was Sháh Badrí, and said to his rider, ‘We have gone astray from the way directed by Shaykh Nasr.’ And he would have taken him up again and flown on with him; but Janshah said, ‘Go thy ways and leave me here; till I die on this spot or I find Takni, the Castle of Jewels, I will not return to my country.’ So the fowl left him with Shah Badri, King of the Beasts and flew away. The King thereupon said to him, ‘O my son, who art thou and whence comest thou with yonder great bird?’ So Janshah told him his story from beginning to end, whereat Shah Badri marvelled and said, ‘By the virtue of the lord Solomon, I know not of this castle; but if any one of the beasts my subjects know it, we will reward him bountifully and send thee by him thither.’ Hereat Janshah wept bitterly but presently he took patience and abode with Shah Badri, and after a short time the King of the Beasts said to him, ‘O my son, take these tablets and commit to memory that which is therein; and when the beasts come, we will question them of the Castle of Jewels.’ “— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. magical formulæ. The context is purposely left vague.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the King of the Beasts said to Janshah, ‘Commit to memory what is in these tablets; and whenas the beasts come, we will ask them anent that castle.’ He did as the King bade him, and before long, up came the beasts, kind after kind, and saluted Shah Badri who questioned them of Takni, the Castle of Jewels, but they all replied, ‘We know not this castle, nor ever heard we of it.’ At this Janshah wept and lamented for that he had not gone with the bird that brought him from Shaykh Nasr’s castle; but Shah Badri said to him, ‘Grieve not, O my son, for I have a brother, King Shimákh hight, who is older than I; he was once a prisoner to King Solomon, for that he rebelled against him; nor is there among the Jinn one elder than he and Shaykh Nasr. Belike he knoweth of this castle; at any rate he ruleth over all the Jinn in this country side.’ So saying he set Janshah on the back of a beast and gave him a letter to his brother, commending him to his care. The beast set off with the Prince forthwith and fared on days and nights, till it came to King Shimakh’s abiding place. And when it caught sight of the King it stood still afar off, whereupon Janshah alighted and walked on, till he found himself in the presence. Then he kissed hands and presented his brother’s letter. The King read the missive and, having mastered the meaning, welcomed the Prince, saying, ‘By Allah, O my son, in all my born days I never saw nor heard of this castle!’ adding (as Janshah burst into tears), ‘but tell me thy story and who and whence thou art and whither thou art bound.’ So Janshah related to him his history from beginning to end, at which Shimakh marvelled and said, ‘O my son, I do not believe that even the lord Solomon ever saw this castle or heard thereof; but O my son,1 I know a monk in the mountains, who is exceeding old and whom all birds and beasts and Jann obey; for he ceased not his conjurations against the Kings of the Jann, till they submitted themselves to him in their own despite, by reason of the might of his oaths and his magic; and now all the birds and the beasts are his servants. I myself once rebelled against King Solomon and he sent against me this monk, the only being who could overcome me with his craft and his conjurations and his gramarye; then he imprisoned me, and since that time I have been his vassal. He hath travelled in all countries and quarters and knoweth all ways and regions and places and castles and cities; nor do I think there is any place hidden from his ken. So needs must I send thee to him; haply he may direct thee to the Castle of Jewels; and, if he cannot do this, none can; for all things obey him, birds and beasts and the very mountains and come at his beck and call, by reason of his skill in magic. Moreover, by the might of his egromancy he hath made a staff, in three pieces, and this he planteth in the earth and conjureth over it; whereupon flesh and blood issue from the first piece, sweet milk from the second and wheat and barley from the third; then he withdraweth the staff and returneth to his place which is hight the Hermitage of Diamonds. And this magical monk is a cunning inventor and artificer of all manner strange works; and he is a crafty warlock full of guiles and wiles, an arch deceiver of wondrous wickedness, who hath mastered every kind of magic and witchcraft. His name is Yaghmús and to him I must needs send thee on the back of a big bird with four wings,’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The repetition is a condescension, a token of kindness.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “Shimakh said to Janshah, ‘I must needs send thee to the monk Yaghmus on the back of a big bird with four wings, each measuring thirty Háshimi1 cubits in length; and it hath feet like those of an elephant, but it flieth only twice a year.’ And there was with King Shimakh an officer, by name Timshun, who used every day to carry off two Bactrian2 camels from the land of Irak and cut them up for the bird that it might eat them. So King Shimakh bade the fowl take up Janshah and bear him to the cell of the hermit Yaghmus; and it rose into the air and flew on days and nights, till it came to the Mountain of the Citadels and the Hermitage of Diamonds where Janshah alighted and going up to the hermitage, found Yaghmus the Monk at his devotions. So he entered the chapel and, kissing the ground stood respectfully before the hermit. When Yaghmus saw him, he said, ‘Welcome, O my son, O parted from thy home and garred ferforth to roam! Tell me the cause of thy coming hither.’ So Janshah wept and acquainted him with all that had befallen him from beginning to end and that he was in quest of the Castle of Jewels. The Monk marvelled greatly at his story and said, ‘By Allah, O my son, never in my life heard I of this castle, nor ever saw I one who had heard of it or had seen it, for all I was alive in the days of Noah, Allah’s Prophet (on whom be peace!),3 and I have ruled the birds and beasts and Jinn ever since his time; nor do I believe that Solomon David son himself knew of it. But wait till the birds and beasts and chiefs of the Jann come to do their homage to me and I will question them of it; peradventure, some one of them may be able to give us news of it and Allah Almighty shall make all things easy to thee.’ So Janshah homed with the hermit, until the day of the assembly, when all the birds and beasts and Jann came to swear fealty; and Yaghmus and his guest questioned them anent Takni, the Castle of Jewels; but they all replied, ‘We never saw or heard of such a place.’ At this, Janshah fell a weeping and lamenting and humbled himself before the Most High; but, as he was thus engaged, behold, there flew down from the heights of air another bird, big of bulk and black of blee, which had tarried behind the rest, and kissed the hermit’s hands. Yaghmus asked it of Takni, the Castle of Jewels, and it answered, saying ‘O Monk, when I and my brothers were small chicks we abode behind the Mountain Kaf on a hill of crystal, in the midst of a great desert; and our father and mother used to set out for it every morning and in the evening come back with our food. They went out early one day, and were absent from us a sennight and hunger was sore upon us; but on the eighth day they returned, both weeping, and we asked them the reason of their absence. Quoth they: ‘A Marid swooped down on us and carried us off in his claws to Takni, the Castle of Jewels, and brought us before King Shahlan, who would have slain us; but we told him that we had left behind us a brood of fledgelings; so he spared our lives and let us go. And were my parents yet in the bonds of life they would give thee news of the castle.’ When Janshah heard this, he wept bitter tears and said to the hermit, ‘Prithee bid the bird carry me to his father and mother’s nest on the crystal hill, behind the Mountain Kaf.’ So the hermit said, ‘O bird, I desire thee to obey this youth in whatsoever he may command thee.’ ‘I hear and obey thy bidding,’ replied the fowl; and, taking Janshah on its back, flew with him days and nights without ceasing till it set him down on the Hill of Crystal and there alighted. And having delayed there a resting while, it again set him on its back and flew off and ceased not flying for two whole days till it reached the spot where the nest was.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is the common cubic of 18 inches: the modern vary from 22 to 26.
2 I have noticed the two-humped Bactrian camel which the Syrians and Egyptians compare with an elephant. See p. 221 (the neo-Syrian) Book of Kalilah and Dimnah.
3 The Noachian dispensation revived the Islam or true religion first revealed to Adam and was itself revived and reformed by Moses.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the fowl ceased not flying with Janshah two full days; till it reached the spot where the nest was, and set him down there and said, ‘O Janshah, this is where our nest was.’ He wept sore and replied, ‘I pray thee bear me farther on to where thy parents used to forage for food.’ The bird consented; so it took him up again and flew on with him seven nights and eight days, till it set him down on the top of a high hill Karmus hight and left him there saying, ‘I know of no land behind this hill.’ Then it flew away and Janshah sat down on the hill-top and fell asleep. When he awoke, he saw a something gleaming afar off as it were lightning and filling the firmament with its flashings; and he wondered what this sheen could be without wotting that it was the Castle he sought. So he descended the mountain and made towards the light, which came from Takni, the Castle of Jewels, distant two months’ journey from Karmús, the hill whereon he had alit, and its foundations were fashioned of red rubies and its buildings of yellow gold. Moreover, it had a thousand turrets builded of precious metals, and stones of price studded and set in the minerals brought from the Main of Murks, and on this account it was named the Castle of Jewels, Takni. It was a vast great castle and the name of its king was King Shahlan, the father of the lady Shamsah and her sisters. Such was the case with Janshah; but as regards Princess Shamsah, when she fled from Janshah, she made straight for the Castle of Jewels and told her father and mother all that had passed between the Prince and herself; how he had wandered the world and seen its marvels and wonders and how fondly he loved her and how dearly she loved him. Quoth they, ‘Thou hast not dealt righteously with him, as Allah would have thee deal.’ Moreover King Shahlan repeated the story to his guards and officers of the Marids of the Jinn and bade them bring him every mortal they should see. For the lady Shamsah had said to her parents, ‘Janshah loveth me with passionate love and forsure he will follow me; for when flying from his father’s roof I cried to him, ‘An thou love me, seek me at Takni, the Castle of Jewels!’ Now when Janshah beheld that sheen and shine, he made straight for it wishing to find out what it might be. And as chance would have it, Shamsah had that very day despatched a Marid on an occasion in the direction of the hill Karmus, and on his way thither he caught sight of a man, a mortal; so he hastened up to him and saluted him. Janshah was terrified at his sight, but returned his salam, and the Marid asked, ‘What is thy name?’ and he answered, ‘My name is Janshah, and I have fallen madly in love with a Jinniyah known as Princess Shamsah, who captivated me by her beauty and loveliness; but despite my dear love she fled from the palace wherein I placed her and behold, I am here in quest of her.’ Herewith he wept with bitter weeping. The Marid looked at him and his heart burned with pity on hearing the sad tale, and he said, ‘Weep not, for surely thou art come to thy desire. Know that she loveth thee fondly and hath told her parents of thy love for her, and all in yonder castle love thee for her sake; so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool of tear.’ Then he took him on his shoulders and made off with him to the Castle of Jewels, Takni. Thereupon the bearers of fair tidings hastened to report his coming and when the news reached Shamsah and her father and mother, they all rejoiced with exceeding joy, and King Shahlan took horse and rode out, commanding all his guards and Ifrits and Marids honourably to meet the Prince.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “King Shahlan commanded all his guards and Ifrits and Marids to meet the Prince; and, as soon as he came up with him, he dismounted and embraced him, and Janshah kissed his hand. Then Shahlan bade put on him a robe of honour of many coloured silk, laced with gold and set with jewels, and a coronet such as man never saw, and, mounting him on a splendid mare of the steeds of the Kings of the Jinn, took horse himself and, with an immense retinue riding on the right hand and the left, brought him in great state to the Castle. Janshah marvelled at the splendour of this edifice, with its walls builded of rubies and other jewels and its pavement of crystal and jasper and emerald, and fell a weeping at the memory of his past miseries; but the King and Queen, Shamsah’s mother, wiped away his tears and said, ‘Now no more weeping and be of good cheer, for thou hast won to thy will.’ Then Shahlan carried him into the inner court of the Castle, where he was received by a multitude of beautiful damsels and pages and black Jinn-slaves, who seated him in the place of honour and stood to do him service, whilst he was lost in amazement at the goodliness of the place, and its walls all edified of precious metals and jewels of price. Presently King Shahlan repaired to his hall of audience, where he sat down on his throne and, bidding the slave-girls and the pages introduce the Prince, rose to receive him and seated him by his side on the throne. Then he ordered the tables to be spread and they ate and drank and washed their hands; after which in came the Queen Shamsah’s mother, and saluting Janshah, bade him welcome in these words, ‘Thou hast come to thy desire after weariness and thine eyes shall now sleep after watching; so praised be Allah for thy safety!’ Thus saying, she went away and forthwith returned with the Princess Shamsah, who saluted Janshah and kissed his hands, hanging her head in shame and confusion before him and her parents, after which as many of her sisters as were in the palace came up to him and greeted him in like manner. Then quoth the Queen to him, ‘Welcome, O my son, our daughter Shamsah hath indeed sinned against thee, but do thou pardon her misdeed for our sakes.’ When Janshah heard this, he cried out and fell down fainting, whereat the King marvelled and they sprinkled on his face rose water mingled with musk and civet, till he came to himself and, looking at Princess Shamsah, said, ‘Praised be Allah who hath brought me to my desire and hath quenched the fire of my heart!’ Replied she, ‘May He preserve thee from the Fire!, but now tell me, O Janshah, what hath befallen thee since our parting and how thou madest thy way to this place; seeing that few even of the Jann ever heard of Takni, the Castle of Jewels; and we are independent of all the Kings nor any wotteth the road hither.’ Thereupon he related to her every adventure and peril and hardship he had suffered and how he had left his father at war with King Kafid, ending with these words, ‘And all for thy sake, my lady Shamsah!’ Quoth the Queen, ‘Now hast thou thy heart’s desire, for the Princess is thy handmaid, and we give her in free gift to thee.’ Janshah joyed exceedingly at these words and the Queen added, ‘Next month, if it be the will of Almighty Allah, we will have a brave wedding and celebrate the marriage festival and after the knot is tied we will send you both back to thy native land, with an escort of a thousand Marids of our body-guard, the least of whom, an thou bid him slay King Kafid and his folk, would surely destroy them to the last man in the twinkling of an eye. Furthermore if it please thee we will send thee, year after year, a company of which each and every can so do with all thy foes.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the lady Shamsah’s mother ended with saying, ‘And if it so please thee we will send thee, year after year, a company of which each and every can destroy thy foes to the last man.’ Then King Shahlan sat down on his throne and, summoning his Grandees and Officers of state, bade them make ready for the marriage-festivities and decorate the city seven days and nights. ‘We hear and we obey,’ answered they and busied themselves two months in the preparations, after which they celebrated the marriage of the Prince and Princess and held a mighty festival, never was there its like. Then they brought Janshah in to his bride and he abode with her in all solace of life and delight for two years, at the end of which time he said to her, ‘Thy father promised to send us to my native land, that we might pass one year there and the next here.’ Answered she, I hear and obey,’ and going in to King Shahlan at nightfall told him what the Prince had said. Quoth he, ‘I consent; but have patience with me till the first of the month, that I may make ready for your departure.’ She repeated these words to her husband and they waited till the appointed time, when the King bade his Marids bring out to them a great litter of red gold, set with pearls and jewels and covered with a canopy of green silk, purfled in a profusion of colours and embroidered with precious stones, dazzling with its goodliness the eyes of every beholder. He chose out four of his Marids to carry the litter in whichever of the four quarters the riders might choose. Moreover, he gave his daughter three hundred beautiful damsels to wait upon her and bestowed on Janshah the like number of white slaves of the sons of the Jinn. Then the lady Shamsah took formal leave of her mother and sisters and all her kith and kin; and her father fared forth with them. So the four Marids took up the litter, each by one corner, and rising under it like birds in air, flew onward with it between earth and heaven till mid-day, when the King bade them set it down and all alighted. Then they took leave of one another and King Shahlan commended Shamsah to the Prince’s care, and giving them in charge to the Marids, returned to the Castle of Jewels, whilst the Prince and Princess remounted the litter, and the Marids taking it up, flew on for ten whole days, in each of which they accomplished thirty months’ journey, till they sighted the capital of King Teghmus. Now one of them knew the land of Kabul; so when he saw the city, he bade the others let down the litter at that populous place which was the capital.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “the Marid guards let down the litter at the capital of King Teghmus who had been routed and had fled from his foes into the city, where he was in sore straits, King Kafid having laid close siege to him. He sought to save himself by making peace with the King of Hind, but his enemy would give him no quarter; so seeing himself without resource or means of relief, he determined to strangle himself and to die and be at rest from this trouble and misery. Accordingly he bade his Wazirs and Emirs farewell and entered his house to take leave of his Harim; and the whole realm was full of weeping and wailing and lamentation and woe. And whilst this rout and hurly-burly was enacting, behold, the Marids descended with the litter upon the palace that was in the citadel, and Janshah bade them set it down in the midst of the Divan. They did his bidding and he alighted with his company of handmaids and Mamelukes; and, seeing all the folk of the city in straits and desolation and sore distress, said to the Princess, ‘O love of my heart and coolth of mine eyes, look in what a piteous plight is my sire!’ There upon she bade the Marid guard fall upon the beleaguering host and slay them, saying, ‘Kill ye all, even to the last man;’ and Janshah commanded one of them, by name Karátash,1 who was exceeding strong and valiant, to bring King Kafid to him in chains. So they set down the litter and covered it with the canopy; then, having waited till midnight, they attacked the enemy’s camp one of them being a match for ten; or at least for eight. And while these smote the foes with iron maces, those mounted their magical elephants and soared high in the lift, and then swooping down and snatching up their opponents, tare them to pieces in mid air. But Karatash made straight for Kafid’s tent where he found him lying in a couch; so he took him up, shrieking for fear, and flew with him to Janshah, who bade the four Marids bind him on the litter and hang him high in the air over his camp, that he might witness the slaughter of his men. They did as the Prince commanded them and left Kafid, who had swooned for fear, hanging between earth and air and buffeting his face for grief. As for King Teghmus, when he saw his son, he well-nigh died for excess of joy and, crying with a loud cry, fell down in a swoon. They sprinkled rose-water on his face, till he came to himself, when he and his son embraced and wept with sore weeping; for he knew not that the Jinn guard were battling with King Kafid’s men. Then Princess Shamsah accosted the King and kissing his hand, said to him, ‘Sire, be pleased to go up with me to the palace-roof and witness the slaughter of thy foes by my father’s Marids.’ So he went up to the terrace-roof and sitting down there with his daughter-in-law, enjoyed watching the Marids do havoc among the besiegers and break a way through the length and breadth of them. For one of them smote with his iron mace upon the elephants and their riders and pounded them till man was not to be distinguished from beast; whilst another shouted in the faces of those who fled, so that they fell down dead; and the third caught up a score of horsemen, beasts and all; and, towering with them high in air, cast them down on earth, so that they were torn in pieces. And this was high enjoyment for Janshah and his father and the lady Shamsah.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Probably a corruption of the Turkish “Kara Tásh” = black stone, in Arab. “Hájar Jahannam” (hell-stone), lava, basalt.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “King Teghmus and his son and daughter-in-law went up to the terrace roof and enjoyed a prospect of the Jinn-guards battling with the beleaguering host. And King Kafid (still hanging between heaven and earth) also saw the slaughter of his troops and wept sore and buffeted his face; nor did the carnage cease among the army of Hind for two whole days, till they were cut off even to the last man. Then Janshah commanded a Marid, by name Shimwál, chain up King Kafid with manacles and fetters, and imprison him in a tower called the Black Bulwark. And when his bidding was done, King Teghmus bade beat the drums and despatched messengers to announce the glad news to Janshah’s mother, informing her of his approach; whereupon she mounted in great joy and she no sooner espied her son than she clasped him in her arms and swooned away for stress of gladness. They sprinkled rose-water on her face, till she came to herself, when she embraced him again and again wept for excess of joy. And when the lady Shamsah knew of her coming, she came to her and saluted her; and they embraced each other and after remaining embraced for an hour sat down to converse. Then King Teghmus threw open the city gates and despatched couriers to all parts of the kingdom, to spread the tidings of his happy deliverance; whereupon all his princely Vassals and Emirs and the Grandees of the realm flocked to salute him and give him joy of his victory and of the safe return of his son; and they brought him great store of rich offerings and curious presents. The visits and oblations continued for some time, after which the King made a second and a more splendid bride-feast for the Princess Shamsah and bade decorate the city and held high festival. Lastly they unveiled and paraded the bride before Janshah, with apparel and ornaments of the utmost magnificence, and when her bridegroom went in to her he presented her with an hundred beautiful slave-girls to wait upon her. Some days after this, the Princess repaired to the King and interceded with him for Kafid, saying, ‘Suffer him return to his own land, and if henceforward he be minded to do thee a hurt, I will bid one of the Jinn-guard snatch him up and bring him to thee.’ Replied Teghmus, ‘I hear and I obey,’ and bade Shimwal bring him the prisoner, who came manacled and fettered and kissed earth between his hands. Then he commanded to strike off his chains and, mounting him on a lame mare, said to him, ‘Verily Princess Shamsah hath interceded for thee: so begone to thy kingdom, but if thou fall again to thine old tricks, she will send one of the Marids to seize thee and bring thee hither.’ Thereupon King Kafid set off home wards, in the sorriest of plights,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “King Kafid set off homewards in the sorriest of plights, whilst Janshah and his wife abode in all solace and delight of life, making the most of its joyance and happiness. All this recounted the youth sitting between the tombs unto Bulukiya, ending with, ‘And behold, I am Janshah who witnessed all these things, O my brother, O Bulukiya!’ Then Bulukiya who was wandering the world in his love for Mohammed (whom Allah bless and keep!) asked Janshah, ‘O my brother, what be these two sepulchres and why sittest thou between them and what causeth thy weeping?’ He answered, ‘Know, O Bulukiya, that we abode in all solace and delight of life, passing one year at home and the next at Takni, the Castle of Jewels, whither we betook not ourselves but in the litter borne by the Marids and flying between heaven and earth.’ Quoth Bulukiya, ‘O my brother, O Janshah, what was the distance between the Castle and thy home?’ Quoth he, ‘Every day we accomplished a journey of thirty months and the time we took was ten days. We abode on this wise a many of years till, one year we set out for the Castle of Jewels, as was our wont, and on the way thither alighted from the litter in this island to rest and take our pleasure therein. We sat down on the riverbank and ate and drank; after which the Lady Shamsah, having a mind to bathe, put off her clothes and plunged into the water. Her women did likewise and they swam about awhile, whilst I walked on along the bank of the stream leaving them to swim about and play with one another. And behold, a huge shark of the monsters of the deep seized the Princess by the leg, without touching any of the girls; and she cried out and died forthright, whilst the damsels fled out of the river to the pavilion, to escape from the shark. But after awhile they returned and taking up her corpse carried her to the litter. Now when I saw her dead, I fell down fainting and they sprinkled water on my face, till I recovered and wept over her. Then I despatched the Jinn-guards to her parents and family, announcing what had befallen her; and in the shortest time they came to the spot and washed her and shrouded her, after which they buried her by the river-side and made mourning for her. They would have carried me with them to their own country; but I said to King Shahlan, ‘I beseech thee to dig me a grave beside her tomb, that, when I die, I may be buried by her side in that grave.’ Accordingly, the King commanded one of his Marids to do as I wished, after which they departed and left me here to weep and mourn for her till I die. And this is my story and the cause of my sojourn between these two tombs.’ And he repeated these two couplets,1
‘The house, sweet heart, is now no home to me
Since thou art gone, nor neighbour neighbourly,
The friend whilom I took to heart, no more
Is friend, and brightest lights lose brilliancy.’
But when Bulukiya heard out Janshah’s tale he marvelled,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A variant of lines in Night xx., vol. i., 211.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when Bulukiya heard out Janshah’s tale he wondered and exclaimed, ‘By Allah, methought I had indeed wandered over the world and compassed it about; but now I forget all I have seen after listening to these adventures of thine!’ He was silent a while and then resumed, ‘I beg thee, of thy favour and courtesy, to direct me in the way of safety.’ So Janshah directed him into the right road, and Bulukiya farewelled him and went his ways.” All this the Serpent-queen related to Hasib Karim al-Din, and he asked her, “But how knowest thou of these things?”; and she answered, “O Hasib, thou must ken that I had occasion, some five-and-twenty years ago, to send one of my largest serpents to Egypt and gave her a letter for Bulukiya, saluting him. So she went there willingly for she had a daughter in the land called Bint Shumukh1; and after asking anent Bulukiya she found him and gave him my missive. He read it and replied to the messenger snake, ‘Thou comest from the Queen of the Serpents whom I am minded to visit for I have an occasion to her.’ She replied, ‘I hear and obey.’ Then she bore him to her daughter of whom she took leave and said to her companion, ‘Close thine eyes.’ So he closed them and opening them again, behold, he found himself on the mountain where I now am. Then his guide carried him to a great serpent, whom he saluted; whereupon quoth she, ‘Didst thou deliver the missive to Bulukiya?’; and she replied, ‘Even so; and he hath accompanied me and here he standeth.’ Presently Bulukiya asked after me, the Serpent-queen, and the great serpent answered, ‘She hath gone to the mountain Kaf with all her host, as is her wont in winter; but next summer she will come hither again. As often as she goeth thither, she appointeth me to reign in her room, during her absence; and if thou have any occasion to her, I will accomplish it for thee.’ Said he, ‘I beg thee to bring me the herb, which whoso crusheth and drinketh the juice thereof, sickeneth not neither groweth grey nor dieth.’ ‘I will not bring it,’ said the serpent, ‘till thou tell me what befell thee since thou leftest the Queen of the Serpents, to go with Affan in quest of King Solomon’s tomb.’ So he related to her all his travels and adventures, together with the history of Janshah, and said at last, ‘Grant me my request, that I may return to mine own country.’ Replied the serpent, ‘By the virtue of the lord Solomon, I know not where is to be found the herb whereof thou speakest.’ Then she bade the serpent which had brought him thither, carry him back to Egypt: so the messenger obeyed her and said to him, ‘Shut thine eyes!’ He did so and, opening them again, found himself on the mountain Mukattam.2 When I returned from the mountain Kaf (added the Queen) the serpent, my deputy, informed me of Bulukiya’s visit and gave me his salutations and repeated to me his story and his meeting with Janshah. And this, O Hasib, is how I came to know the adventures of Bulukiya and the history of Janshah.” Thereupon Hasib said to her, “O Queen, deign recount to me what befell Bulukiya as regards his return to Egypt.” She replied, “Know, O Hasib, that when he parted from Janshah he fared on nights and days till he came to a great sea; so he anointed his feet with the juice of the magical herb and, walking over the face of the waters, sped onwards till he came to an island abounding in trees and springs and fruits, as it were the Garden of Eden. He landed and walked about, till he saw an immense tree, with leaves as big as the sails of a ship. So he went up to the tree and found under it a table spread with all manner meats, whilst on a branch of the branches sat a great bird, whose body was of pearls and leek-green emeralds, its feet of silver, its beak of red carnelian and its plumery of precious metals; and it was engaged in singing the praises of Allah the Most High and blessing Mohammed (on whom be benediction and peace!)”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when Bulukiya landed and walked about the island he found therein many marvels, especially a bird whose body was of pearls and leek green emeralds and its plumery of precious metals; and it was engaged in singing the praises of Allah the Most High and blessing Mohammed (upon whom be benediction and peace!). Seeing this he said, ‘Who and what art thou?’ Quoth the bird, ‘I am one of the birds of Eden and followed Adam when Allah Almighty cast him out thence. And know, O my brother, that Allah also cast out with him four leaves of the trees of the garden to cover his nakedness withal, and they fell to the ground after awhile. One of them was eaten by a worm, and of it came silk: the gazelles ate the second and thence proceeded musk, the third was eaten by bees and gave rise to honey, whilst the fourth fell in the land of Hind and from it sprang all manner of spices. As for me, I wandered over the face of earth till Allah deigned give me this island for a dwelling-place, and I took up my abode here. And every Friday from night till morning the Saints and Princes1 of the Faith flock to this place and make pious visitation and eat from this table spread by Allah Almighty; and after they have eaten, the table is taken up again to Heaven: nor doth the food ever waste or corrupt.’ So Bulukiya ate his fill of the meats and praised the Great Creator. And presently, behold, there came up Al–Khizr2 (with whom be peace!), at sight of whom Bulukiya rose and saluting him, was about to withdraw, when the bird said to him, ‘Sit, O Bulukiya, in the presence of Al–Khizr, on whom be peace!’ So he sat down again, and Al–Khizr said to him, ‘Let me know who thou art and tell me thy tale.’ Thereupon Bulukiya related to him all his adventures from beginning to end and asked, ‘O my lord, how far is it hence to Cairo?’ ‘Five and ninety years’ journey,’ replied the Prophet; whereupon Bulukiya burst into tears; then, falling at Al–Khizr’s feet, kissed them and said to him, ‘I beseech thee deliver me from this strangerhood and thy reward be with Allah, for that I am nigh upon death and know not what to do.’ Quoth Al–Khizr, ‘Pray to Allah Almighty that He permit me to carry thee to Cairo, ere thou perish.’ So Bulukiya wept and humbled himself before Allah who granted his prayer, and by inspiration bade Al–Khizr bear him to his people. Then said the Prophet, ‘Lift thy head, for Allah hath heard thy prayer and hath inspired me to do what thou desires; so take fast hold of me with both thy hands and shut thine eyes.’ The Prince did as he was bidden and Al–Khizr stepped a single step forwards, then said to him, ‘Open thine eyes!’ So Bulukiya opened his eyes and found himself at the door of his palace at Cairo. He turned, to take leave of Al–Khizr, but found no trace of him.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kutb”; lie. an axle, a pole; next a prince; a high order or doyen in Sainthood especially amongst the Sufi-gnostics.
2 Lit. “The Green” (Prophet), a mysterious personage confounded with Elijah, St. George and others. He was a Moslem, i.e. a ewe believer in the Islam of his day and Wazir to Kaykobad, founder of the Kayanian dynasty, sixth century B.C. We have before seen him as a contemporary of Moses. My learned friend Ch. Clermone–Ganneau traces him back, with a multitude of his similars (Proteus, Perseus, etc.), to the son of Osiris (p. 45, Horus et Saint Georges).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that “when Bulukiya, standing at the gate of his palace, turned to take leave of Al–Khizr, he found no trace of him and entered the palace. When his mother saw him, she cried with a loud cry and swooned away for excess of joy, and they sprinkled water upon her face. After awhile she came to herself and embraced her son and wept with sore weeping, whilst Bulukiya wept and laughed by turns. Then all his friends and kindred came and gave him joy of his safe return, and the news was noised abroad in the land and there came to him presents from all parts. Moreover, they beat the drums and blew the flutes and rejoiced mightily. Then Bulukiya related to them his adventures ending with recounting how Al–Khizr had set him down at his palace door, whereat they marvelled exceedingly and wept, till all were a-weary of weeping.” Hasib wondered at the Queen’s tale and shed many tears over it; then he again besought her to let him return to his family; but she said, “I fear me, O Hasib, that when thou gettest back to thy country thou wilt fail of thy promise and prove traitor to thine oath and enter the Hammam.” But he swore to her another solemn oath that he would never again enter the baths as long as he lived; whereupon she called a serpent and bade her carry him up to the surface of the earth. So the serpent took him and led him from place to place, till she brought him out on the platform-edge of an abandoned cistern and there left him. Upon this he walked to the city and, coming to his house by the last of the day, at the yellowing of the sun, knocked at the door. His mother opened it and seeing her son screamed out and threw herself upon him and wept for excess of joy. His wife heard her mother-in-law weeping; so she came out to her and seeing her husband, saluted him and kissed his hands; and each rejoiced in other with exceeding joy of all three. Then they entered the house and sat down to converse and presently Hasib asked his mother of the woodcutters, who had left him to perish in the cistern. Quoth she, “They came and told me that a wolf had eaten thee in the Wady. As for them, they are become merchants and own houses and shops, and the world is grown wide for them. But every day they bring me meat and drink, and thus have they done until the present time.” Quoth Hasib, “To-morrow do thou go to them and say, “My son Hasib Karim al-Din hath returned from his travels; so come ye to meet him and salute him.” Accordingly, when morning dawned, she repaired to the woodcutters’ houses and delivered to them her son’s message, which when they heard, they changed colour, and saying, “We hear and obey,” gave her each a suit of silk, embroidered with gold, adding, “Present this to thy good son1 and tell him that we will be with him to-morrow.” She assented and returning to Hasib gave him their presents and message. Meanwhile, the woodcutters called together a number of merchants and, acquainting them with all that had passed between themselves and Hasib, took counsel with them what they should do. Quoth the merchants, “It behoveth each one of you to give him half his monies and Mamelukes.” And they all agreed to do this; so on the next day, each of them took half his wealth and, going in to Hasib, saluted him and kissed his hands. Then they laid before him what they had brought, saying, “This is of thy bounties, and we are in thy hands.” He accepted their peace- offering and said, “What is past is past: that which befell us was decreed of Allah, and destiny doeth away with dexterity.” Quoth they, “Come, let us walk about and take our solace in the city and visit the Hammam.” Quoth he, “Not so: I have taken an oath never again to enter the baths, so long as I live.” Rejoined they, at least come to our homes that we may entertain thee.” He agreed to this, and went to their houses and each of them entertained him for a night and a day; nor did they cease to do thus for a whole sennight, being seven in number. And now Hasib was master of monies and houses and shops, and the merchants of the city foregathered with him and he told them all that had befallen him. He became one of the chiefs of the guild and abode on this wise awhile, till it happened one day, as he was walking about the streets, that he passed the door of a Hammam, whose keeper was one of his companions. When the bathman, who was standing without, caught his eye he ran up to him and saluted him and embraced him, saying, “Favour me by entering the bath and there wash and be rubbed that I may show thee hospitality.” Hasib refused, alleging that he had taken a solemn oath never again to enter the Hammam; but the bathman was instant with him, saying, “Be my three wives triply divorced, can thou enter not and be washed!” When Hasib heard him thus conjure him, he was confounded and replied, “O my brother, hast thou a mind to ruin my house and make my children orphans and lay a load of sin upon my neck?” But his friend threw himself at his feet and kissed them, saying, “My happiness dependeth upon thy entering, and be the sin on the neck of me!” Then all the servants of the bath set upon Hasib and dragging him in pulled off his clothes. But hardly had he sat down against the wall and begun to pour water on his head when a score of men accosted him, saying, “Rise, O man, and come with us to the Sultan, for thou art his debtor.” Then they despatched one of them as messenger to the Sultan’s Minister, who straightway took horse and rode, attended by threescore Mamelukes, to the baths, where he alighted and going in to Hasib, saluted him and said, “Welcome to thee!” Then he gave the bathman an hundred diners and, mounting Hasib on a horse he had brought with him, returned with him and all his men to the Sultan’s palace. Here he bade them aid Hasib to dismount and, after seating him comfortably, set food before him; and when they had eaten and drunken and washed their hands, the Wazir clad him in two dresses of honour each worth five thousand diners and said to him, “Know that Allah hath been merciful to us in sending thee; for the Sultan is nigh upon death by leprosy, and the books tell us that his life is in thy hands. Then, accompanied by a host of Grandees, he took him wondering withal and carried him through the seven doorways of the palace, till they came to the King’s chamber. Now the name of this King was Karazdán, King of Persia and of the Seven Countries, and under his sway were an hundred sovereign princes sitting on chairs of red gold, and ten thousand valiant captains, under each one’s hand an hundred deputies and as many headsmen armed with sword and axe. They found the King lying on his bed with his face swathed in a napkin, and groaning for excess of pain. When Hasib saw this ordinance, his wit was dazed for awe of the King; so he kissed the ground before him, and prayed a blessing on him. Then the Grand Wazir, whose name was Shamhúr, rose and welcoming Hasib, seated him on a high chair at the King’s right hand.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Waled,” more ceremonious than “ibn.” It is, by the by, the origin of our “valet” in its sense of boy or servant who is popularly addressed Yá waled. Hence I have seen in a French book of travels “un petit Iavelet.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Shamhur rose to Hasib and seated him on a chair at the right hand of King Karazdan; after which he called for food and the tables were laid. And when they had eaten and drunken and washed their hands, Shamhur stood up (while all present also stood to do him honour) and, approaching Hasib said to him, “We are all thy servants and will give thee whatsoever thou askest, even were it one half the kingdom, so thou wilt but cure the King.” Saying this, he led him by the hand to the royal couch, and Hasib, uncovering the King’s face, saw that he was at last fatal stage of the disease; so he wondered at their hoping for a cure. But the Wazir kissed his hand and repeated his offers and ended with saying, “All we want of thee is to heal our King:” so he said to the Wazir, “True that I am the son of Allah’s prophet, Daniel, but I know nothing of his art: for they put me thirty days in the school of medicine and I learnt nothing of the craft. I would well I knew somewhat thereof and might heal the King.” Hearing this, the Grand Wazir said, “Do not multiply words upon us; for though we should gather together to us physicians from the East and from the West, none could cure the King save thou.” Answered Hasib, “How can I make him whole, seeing I know neither his case nor its cure?” Quoth the Minister, “His healing is in thy hands,” and quoth Hasib, “If I knew the remedy of his sickness, I would heal him.” Thereupon the Wazir rejoined, “Thou keenest a cure right well; the remedy of his sickness is the Queen of the Serpents, and thou knowest her abiding-place and hast been with her.” When Hasib heard this, he knew that all this came of his entering the Baths, and repented whenas repentance availed him naught; then said he, “What is the Queen of the Serpents? I know her not nor ever in all my life heard I of this name.” Retorted the Wazir, “Deny not the knowledge of her, for I have proof that thou knowest her and hast passed two years with her.” Repeated Hasib, “Verily, I never saw her nor even heard of her till this moment;” upon which Shamhur opened a book and, after making sundry calculations, raised his head and spake as follows. “The Queen of the Serpents shall foregather with a man who shall abide with her two years; then shall he return from her and come forth to the surface of the earth, and when he entereth the Hammam bath his belly will become black.” Then said he, “Look at thy belly.” So Hasib looked at his own belly and behold, it was black: but he persisted in his denial and said, “My belly was black from the day my mother bare me.” Said the Wazir, “I had stationed three Mamelukes at the door of every Hammam, bidding them note all who entered and let me know when they found one whose belly was black: so, when thou enteredst, they looked at thy belly and, finding it black, sent and told me, after we had well-nigh lost hope of coming upon thee. All we want of thee is to show us the place whence thou camest out and after go thy ways; for we have those with us who will take the Queen of the Serpents and fetch her to us.” Then all the other Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees flocked about Hasib who sorely repented of his misdeed; and they conjured him, till they were weary, to show them the abode of the Queen; but he ceased not saying, “I never saw nor heard of the matter.” Then the Grand Wazir called the hangman and bade him strip Hasib and beat him a sore beating; and so they did till he saw death face to face, for excess of pain, and the Wazir said, “We have proof that thou knowest the abiding-place of the Queen of the Serpents: why wilt thou persist in denial? Show us the place whence thou camest out and go from us; we have with us one who will take her, and no harm shall befall thee.” Then he raised him and bade give him a dress of honour of cloth of red gold, embroidered with jewels, and spoke him fair till Hasib yielded and said, “I will show you the place.” At this the Wazir rejoiced with great joy and took horse with all his many and rode, guided by Hasib, and never drew rein till they came to the mountain containing the cavern wherein he had found the cistern full of honey. There all dismounted and followed him as he entered, sighing and weeping, and showed them the well whence he had issued; whereupon the Wazir sat down thereby and, sprinkling perfumes upon a chafing-dish, began to mutter charms and conjurations; for he was a crafty magician and diviner and skilled in spiritual arts. He repeated three several formulas of conjuration and between each threw fresh incense upon the fire, crying out and saying, “Come forth, O Queen of the Serpents!;” when behold, the water of the well sank down and a great door opened in the side, from which came a mighty noise of crying like unto thunder, so terrible that they thought the well had caved in and all present fell down fainting; nay, some even died for fright. Presently, there issued from the well a serpent as big as an elephant, casting out sparks, like red hot coals, from its eyes and mouth and bearing on its back a charger of red gold, set with pearls and jewels, in the midst whereof lay a serpent from whose body issued such splendour that the place was illumined thereby; and her face was fair and young and she spoke with most eloquent tongue. The Serpent-queen turned right and left, till her eyes fell upon Hasib, to whom said she “Where is the covenant thou madest with me, and the oath thou swearest to me, that thou wouldst never again enter the Hammam-bath? But there is no fighting against Fate nor hath any ever fled from that which is written on his forehead. Allah hath appointed the end of my life for thy hand to hend, and it is His will that slain I be and King Karazdan be healed of his malady.” So saying, she wept with sore weeping and Hasib wept to see her weep. As for the abominable Wazir Shamhur; he put out his hand to lay hold of her; but she said to him, “Hold thy hand, O accursed, or I will blow upon thee and reduce thee to a heap of black ashes.” Then she cried out to Hasib, saying, “Draw near me and take me in thine hand and lay me in the dish that is with you: then set it on thy head, for my death was fore-ordained, from Eternity without beginning,1 to be at thy hand, and thou hast no power to avert it.” So he took her and laid her in the dish, and put it on his head, when the well returned to its former state. Then they set out on their return to the city, Hasib carrying the dish on his head, and when they were half-way behold, the Queen of the Serpents said to him privily, “Hearken, O Hasib, to my friendly counsel, for all thou hast broken faith with me and been false to thine oath, and hast done this misdeed, but it was fore-ordained from all eternity.” He replied “To hear is to obey,” and she continued, “It is this: when thou comest to the Wazir’s house, he will bid thee behead me and cut me in three; but do thou refuse saying, ‘I know not how to slaughter2’ and leave him to do it with his own hand and to work his wicked will. When he hath cut my throat and divided my body into three pieces there will come a messenger, to bid him to the King, so he will lay my flesh in a cauldron of brass and set it upon a brasier before going to the presence and he will say to thee, ‘Keep up the fire under the cauldron till the scum rise; then skim it off and pour it into a phial to cool. Wait till it cool and then drink it, so shall naught of malady or pain be left in all thy body. When the second scum riseth, skim it off and pour it into a phial against my return from the King, that I may drink it for an ailment I have in my loins.’ Then will he give thee the phials and go to the King, and when he is gone, do thou light the fire and wait till the first scum rise and set it in a phial; keep it by thee but beware of drinking it, or no good will befall thee. When the second scum riseth, skim it off and put it in a second phial and drink it down as soon as it cools. When the Wazir returneth and asketh thee for the second phial, give him the first and note what shall befall him;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Serpent-queen charged Hasib not to drink of the first scum and carefully to keep the second, saying, “When the Wazir returneth from the King and asketh for the second phial, give him the first and note what shall befall him; then drink the contents of the second phial and thy heart will become the home of wisdom. After this take up the flesh and, laying it in a brazen platter, carry it to the King and give him to eat thereof. When he hath eaten it and it hath settled in his stomach, veil his face with a kerchief and wait by him till noontide, when he will have digested the meat. Then give him somewhat of wine to drink and, by the decree of Allah Almighty, he will be healed of his unhealth and be made whole as he was. And give thou ear to the charge wherewith I charge thee; and keep it in thy memory with carefullest keeping.” They ceased not faring till they came to the Wazir’s house, and he said to Hasib, “Come in with me!” So he went in and the troops dispersed and fared each his own way; whereupon Hasib set down the platter and the Wazir bade him slay the Queen of the Serpents; but he said, “I know not how to slaughter and never in my born days killed I aught. An thou wilt have her throat cut, do it with thine own hand.” So the Minister Shamhur took the Queen from the platter and slew her, seeing which Hasib wept bitter tears and the Wazir laughed at him, saying, “O weak of wits, how canst thou weep for the killing of a worm?” Then he cut her in three and, laying the pieces in a brass cauldron, set it on the fire and sat down to await the cooking of the flesh. And whilst he was sitting, lo! there came a slave from the King, who said to him, “The King calls for thee without stay or delay,” and he answered saying, “I hear and I obey.” So he gave Hasib two phials and bade him drink the first scum and keep the second against his return,1 even as the Queen of the Serpents had foretold; after which he went away with repeated charges and injunctions; and Hasib tended the fire under the cauldron till the first scum rose, when he skimmed it off and, setting it in one of the phials, kept it by him. He then fed the fire till the second scum rose; then he skimmed it off and, putting it in the other phial kept it for himself. And when the meat was done, he took the cauldron off the fire and sat awaiting the Wazir who asked him on return, “What hast thou done?” and answered Hasib, “I did thy bidding to the last word.” Quoth the Wazir, “What hast thou done with the first phial?” “I drank its contents but now,” replied Hasib, and Shamhur asked, “Thy body feeleth it no change?”; whereto Hasib answered, “Verily, I feel as I were on fire from front to foot.” The villain Wazir made no reply hiding the truth but said, “Hand me the second phial, that I may drink what is therein, so haply I may be made whole of this ailing in my loins.” So Hasib brought him the first phial and he drank it off, thinking it contained the second scum; but hardly had he done drinking when the phial fell from his hand and he swelled up and dropped down dead; and thus was exemplified in him the saying; “Whoso for his brother diggeth a pit, he shall be the first to fall into it.” Now when Hasib saw this, he wondered and feared to drink of the second phial; but he remembered the Serpent-queen’s injunction and bethought him that the Wazir would not have reserved the second scum for himself, had there been aught of hurt therein. So he said, “I put my trust in Allah,’2 and drank off the contents of the phial. No sooner had he done so, than the Most Highest made the waters of wisdom to well up in his heart and opened to him the fountains of knowledge, and joy and gladness overcame him. Then he took the serpent’s flesh from the cauldron and, laying it on a platter of brass, went forth from the Wazir’s house. On his way to the palace he raised his eyes and saw the seven Heavens and all that therein is, even to the Lote-tree, beyond which there is no passing,3 and the manner of the revolution of the spheres. Moreover, Allah discovered to him the ordinance of the planets and the scheme of their movements and the fixed stars; and he saw the contour of the land and sea, whereby he became informed with geometry, astrology and astronomy and mathematics and all that hangeth thereby; and he understood the causes and consequences of eclipses of the sun and moon. Then he looked at the earth and saw all minerals and vegetables that are therein and thereon; and he learned their properties, and their virtues, so that he became in an instant versed in medicine and chemistry and natural magic and the art of making gold and silver. And he ceased not carrying the flesh till he came to the palace, when he went in to King Karazdan, and kissing the ground before him, said, “May thy head survive thy Wazir Shamhur!” The King was mightily angered at the news of the Grand Wazir’s death and wept for him, whilst his Emirs and his Grandees and officers also wept. Then said Karazdan, “He was with me but now, in all health, and went away to fetch me the flesh of the Queen of the Serpents, if it should be cooked; what befell him that he is now dead, and what accident hath betided him?” So Hasib told him the whole truth how the Minister had drunk the contents of the phial and had forthwith swelled out and died. The King mourned for his loss with mourning sore and said to Hasib, “What shall I do without Shamhur?” and Hasib answered “Grieve not, O King of the age; for I will cure thee within three days and leave no whit of disease in thy body.” At this the King’s breast waxed broad and he said, “I wish to be made whole of this affliction, though after a long term of years.” So Hasib set the platter before the King and made him eat a slice of the flesh of the Serpent-queen. Then he covered him up and, spreading a kerchief over his face, bade him sleep and sat down by his side. He slept from noonday till sundown, while his stomach digested the piece of flesh, and presently he awoke. Hasib gave him somewhat of wine to drink and bade him sleep again; so he slept till the morning and when dawn appeared, Hasib repeated the treatment making him eat another piece of the flesh; and thus he did with him three days following, till he had eaten the whole, when his skin began to shrink and scale off and he perspired, so that the sweat ran down from his head to his heels. Therewith he became whole and there abode in him no trace of the disease, which when Hasib saw, he said, “There is no help for it but thou go to the Hammam.” So he carried him to the bath and washed his body; and when he came forth, it was like a wand of silver and he was restored to health, nay, sounder than he was before he fell ill. Thereupon he donned his richest robes and, seating himself on his throne, deigned make Hasib sit beside him. Then he bade the tables be spread and they ate and washed their hands; after which he called for the service of wine and both drank their fill. Upon this all his Wazirs and Emirs and Captains and the Grandees of his realm and the notables of the lieges came in to him and gave him joy of his recovery; and they beat the drums and adorned the city in token of rejoicing. Then said the King to the assembly, “O Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees, this is Hasim Karim al-Din, who hath healed me of my sickness, and know all here present that I make him my Chief Wazir in the stead of the Wazir Shamhur.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Wazir repeats all the words spoken by the Queen — but “in iteration there is no recreation.”
2 A phrase always in the Moslem’s mouth: the slang meaning of “we put our trust in Allah” is “let’s cut our stick.”
3 Koran liii. 14. This “Sidrat al-Muntahá” (Zizyphus lotus) stands m the seventh heaven on the right hand of Allah’s throne: and even the angels may not pass beyond it.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth King Karazdan to his Ministers and high lords, “He who healed me of my sickness is none other than Hasib Karim al-Din here present. Therefore I make him my Chief Wazir in the stead of the Wazir Shamhur; and whoso loveth him loveth me, and whoso honoureth him honoureth me, and he who obeyeth him obeyeth me.” “Hearkening and obedience,” answered they and all rising flocked to kiss Hasib’s hand and salute him and give him joy of the Wazirate. Then the King bestowed on him a splendid dress of gold brocade, set with pearls and gems, the least of which was worth five thousand gold pieces. Moreover, he presented to him three hundred male white slaves and the like number of concubines, in loveliness like moons, and three hundred Abyssinian1 slave-girls, beside five hundred mules laden with treasure and sheep and oxen and buffaloes and bulls and other cattle beyond count; and he commanded all his Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees and Notables and Mamelukes and his subjects in general to bring him gifts. Presently Hasib took horse and rode, followed by the Wazirs and Emirs and lords and all the troops, to the house which the King had set apart for him, where he sat down on a chair; and the Wazirs and Emirs came up to him and kissed hands and gave him joy of his Ministership, vying with one another in suit and service. When his mother and his household knew what had happened, they rejoiced with exceeding joy and congratulated him on his good fortune; and his quondam comrades the woodcutters also came and gave him joy. Then he mounted again and, riding to the house of the late Wazir Shamhur, laid hands on all that was therein and transported it to his own abode. On this wise did Hasib, from a dunsical know-nothing, unskilled to read writing, become, by the decree of Allah Almighty, an adept in every science and versed in all manner of knowledge, so that the fame of his learning was blazed abroad over the land and he became renowned as an ocean of lore and skill in medicine and astronomy and geometry and astrology and alchemy and natural magic and the Cabbala and Spiritualism and all other arts and sciences. One day, he said to his mother, “My father Daniel was exceeding wise and learned; tell me what he left by way of books or what not!” So his mother brought him the chest and, taking out the five leaves which had been saved when the library was lost, gave them to him saying, “These five scrolls are all thy father left thee.” So he read them and said to her, “O my mother, these leaves are part of a book: where is the rest?” Quoth she, “Thy father made a voyage taking with him all his library and, when he was shipwrecked, every book was lost save only these five leaves. And when he was returned to me by Almighty Allah he found me with child and said to me: ‘Haply thou wilt bear a boy; so take these scrolls and keep them by thee and whenas thy son shall grow up and ask what his father left him, give these leaves to him and say, ‘Thy father left these as thine only heritance. And lo! here they are.’ “ And Hasib, now the most learned of his age, abode in all pleasure and solace, and delight of life, till there came to him the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies.2 And yet, O King, is not this tale of Bulukiya and Janshah more wondrous than the adventures of
There lived in the city of Baghdad, during the reign of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, a man named Sindbád the Hammál,2 one in poor case who bore burdens on his head for hire. It happened to him one day of great heat that whilst he was carrying a heavy load, he became exceeding weary and sweated profusely, the heat and the weight alike oppressing him. Presently, as he was passing the gate of a merchant’s house, before which the ground was swept and watered, and there the air was temperate, he sighted a broad bench beside the door; so he set his load thereon, to take rest and smell the air — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane (vol. iii. 1) calls our old friend “Es–Sindibád of the Sea,” and Benfey derives the name from the Sanskrit “Siddhapati”=lord of sages. The etymology (in Heb. Sandabar and in Greek Syntipas) is still uncertain, although the term often occurs in Arab stories; and some look upon it as a mere corruption of “Bidpai” (Bidyápati). The derivation offered by Hole (Remarks on the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, by Richard Hole, LL.D. London, Cadell, 1797) from the Persian ábád (a region) is impossible. It is, however, not a little curious that this purely Persian word (=a “habitation”) should be found in Indian names as early as Alexanders’ day, e.g. the “Dachina bades” of the Periplus is “Dakhsin-ábád,” the Sanskr. being “Dakshinapatha.”
2 A porter like the famous Armenians of Constantinople. Some edits. call him “Al–Hindibád.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Hammal set his load upon the bench to take rest and smell the air, there came out upon him from the court-door a pleasant breeze and a delicious fragrance. He sat down on the edge of the bench, and at once heard from within the melodious sound of lutes and other stringed instruments, and mirth-exciting voices singing and reciting, together with the song of birds warbling and glorifying Almighty Allah in various tunes and tongues; turtles, mocking-birds, merles, nightingales, cushats and stone- curlews,1 whereat he marvelled in himself and was moved to mighty joy and solace. Then he went up to the gate and saw within a great flower-garden wherein were pages and black slaves and such a train of servants and attendants and so forth as is found only with Kings and Sultans; and his nostrils were greeted with the savoury odours of all manner meats rich and delicate, and delicious and generous wines. So he raised his eyes heavenwards and said, “Glory to Thee, O Lord, O Creator and Provider, who providest whomso Thou wilt without count or stint! O mine Holy One, I cry Thee pardon for all sins and turn to Thee repenting of all offences! O Lord, there is no gainsaying Thee in Thine ordinance and Thy dominion, neither wilt Thou be questioned of that Thou dost, for Thou indeed over all things art Almighty! Extolled be Thy perfection: whom Thou wilt Thou makest poor and whom Thou wilt Thou makest rich! Whom Thou wilt Thou exaltest and whom Thou wilt Thou abasest and there is no god but Thou! How mighty is Thy majesty and how enduring Thy dominion and how excellent Thy government! Verily, Thou favourest whom Thou wilt of Thy servants, whereby the owner of this place abideth in all joyance of life and delighteth himself with pleasant scents and delicious meats and exquisite wines of all kinds. For indeed Thou appointest unto Thy creatures that which Thou wilt and that which Thou hast foreordained unto them; wherefore are some weary and others are at rest and some enjoy fair fortune and affluence, whilst others suffer the extreme of travail and misery, even as I do.” And he fell to reciting,
“How many by my labours, that evermore endure,
All goods of life enjoy and in cooly shade recline?
Each morn that dawns I wake in travail and in woe,
And strange is my condition and my burden gars me pine:
Many others are in luck and from miseries are free,
And Fortune never loads them with loads the like o’ mine:
They live their happy days in all solace and delight;
Eat, drink and dwell in honour ’mid the noble and the digne:
All living things were made of a little drop of sperm,
Thine origin is mine and my provenance is thine;
Yet the difference and distance ‘twixt the twain of us are far
As the difference of savour ‘twixt vinegar and wine:
But at Thee, O God All-wise! I venture not to rail
Whose ordinance is just and whose justice cannot fail.”
When Sindbad the Porter had made an end of reciting his verses, he bore up his burden and was about to fare on, when there came forth to him from the gate a little foot-page, fair of face and shapely of shape and dainty of dress who caught him by the hand saying, “Come in and speak with my lord, for he calleth for thee.” The Porter would have excused himself to the page but the lad would take no refusal; so he left his load with the doorkeeper in the vestibule and followed the boy into the house, which he found to be a goodly mansion, radiant and full of majesty, till he brought him to a grand sitting-room wherein he saw a company of nobles and great lords, seated at tables garnished with all manner of flowers and sweet-scented herbs, besides great plenty of dainty viands and fruits dried and fresh and confections and wines of the choicest vintages. There also were instruments of music and mirth and lovely slave-girls playing and singing. All the company was ranged according to rank; and in the highest place sat a man of worshipful and noble aspect whose beard-sides hoariness had stricken; and he was stately of stature and fair of favour, agreeable of aspect and full of gravity and dignity and majesty. So Sindbad the Porter was confounded at that which he beheld and said in himself, “By Allah, this must be either a piece of Paradise or some King’s palace!” Then he saluted the company with much respect praying for their prosperity, and kissing the ground before them, stood with his head bowed down in humble attitude. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Karawán” (Charadrius œdicnemus, Linn.): its shrill note is admired by Egyptians and hated by sportsmen.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Porter, after kissing ground between their hands stood with his head bowed down in humble attitude. The master of the house bade him draw near and be seated and bespoke him kindly, bidding him welcome. Then he set before him various kinds of viands, rich and delicate and delicious, and the Porter, after saying his Bismillah, fell to and ate his fill, after which he exclaimed, “Praised be Allah whatso be our case!1” and, washing his hands, returned thanks to the company for his entertainment. Quoth the host, “Thou art welcome and thy day is a blessed. But what is thy name and calling?” Quoth the other, “O my lord, my name is Sindbad the Hammal, and I carry folk’s goods on my head for hire.” The house-master smiled and rejoined, “Know, O Porter that thy name is even as mine, for I am Sindbad the Seaman; and now, O Porter, I would have thee let me hear the couplets thou recitedst at the gate anon.” The Porter was abashed and replied, “Allah upon thee! Excuse me, for toil and travail and lack of luck when the hand is empty, teach a man ill manners and boorish ways.” Said the host, “Be not ashamed; thou art become my brother; but repeat to me the verses, for they pleased me whenas I heard thee recite them at the gate. Hereupon the Porter repeated the couplets and they delighted the merchant, who said to him, “Know, O Hammal, that my story is a wonderful one, and thou shalt hear all that befel me and all I underwent ere I rose to this state of prosperity and became the lord of this place wherein thou seest me; for I came not to this high estate save after travail sore and perils galore, and how much toil and trouble have I not suffered in days of yore! I have made seven voyages, by each of which hangeth a marvellous tale, such as confoundeth the reason, and all this came to pass by doom of fortune and fate; for from what destiny doth write there is neither refuge nor flight. Know, then, good my lords (continued he) that I am about to relate the
1 This ejaculation, still popular, averts the evil eye. In describing Sindbad the Seaman the Arab writer seems to repeat what one reads of Marco Polo returned to Venice.
My father was a merchant, one of the notables of my native place, a monied man and ample of means, who died whilst I was yet a child, leaving me much wealth in money and lands and farmhouses. When I grew up, I laid hands on the whole and ate of the best and drank freely and wore rich clothes and lived lavishly, companioning and consorting with youths of my own age, and considering that this course of life would continue for ever and ken no change. Thus did I for a long time, but at last I awoke from my heedlessness and, returning to my senses, I found my wealth had become unwealth and my condition ill-conditioned and all I once hent had left my hand. And recovering my reason I was stricken with dismay and confusion and bethought me of a saying of our lord Solomon, son of David (on whom be peace!), which I had heard aforetime from my father, “Three things are better than other three; the day of death is better than the day of birth, a live dog is better than a dead lion and the grave is better than want.”2 Then I got together my remains of estates and property and sold all, even my clothes, for three thousand dirhams, with which I resolved to travel to foreign parts, remembering the saying of the poet,
“By means of toil man shall scale the height;
Who to fame aspires mustn’t sleep o’ night:
Who seeketh pearl in the deep must dive,
Winning weal and wealth by his main and might:
And who seeketh Fame without toil and strife
Th’ impossible seeketh and wasteth life.”
So taking heart I bought me goods, merchandise and all needed for a voyage and, impatient to be at sea, I embarked, with a company of merchants, on board a ship bound for Bassorah. There we again embarked and sailed many days and nights, and we passed from isle to isle and sea to sea and shore to shore, buying and selling and bartering everywhere the ship touched, and continued our course till we came to an island as it were a garth of the gardens of Paradise. Here the captain cast anchor and making fast to the shore, put out the landing planks. So all on board landed and made furnaces3 and lighting fires therein, busied themselves in various ways, some cooking and some washing, whilst other some walked about the island for solace, and the crew fell to eating and drinking and playing and sporting. I was one of the walkers but, as we were thus engaged, behold the master who was standing on the gunwale cried out to us at the top of his voice, saying, “Ho there! passengers, run for your lives and hasten back to the ship and leave your gear and save yourselves from destruction, Allah preserve you! For this island whereon ye stand is no true island, but a great fish stationary a-middlemost of the sea, whereon the sand hath settled and trees have sprung up of old time, so that it is become like unto an island;4 but, when ye lighted fires on it, it felt the heat and moved; and in a moment it will sink with you into the sea and ye will all be drowned. So leave your gear and seek your safety ere ye die!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Our old friend must not be confounded with the eponym of the “Sindibád-námah;” the Persian book of Sindbad the Sage. See Night dlxxviii.
2 The first and second are from Eccles. chapts. vii. 1, and ix. 4. The Bul. Edit. reads for the third, “The grave is better than the palace.” None are from Solomon, but Easterns do not “verify quotations.”
3 Arab. “Kánún”; a furnace, a brasier before noticed (vol. v., p. 272); here a pot full of charcoal sunk in the ground, or a little hearth of clay shaped like a horseshoe and opening down wind.
4 These fish-islands are common in the Classics, e.g. the Pristis of Pliny (xvii. 4), which Olaus Magnus transfers to the Baltic (xxi. 6) and makes timid as the whales of Nearchus. C. J. Solinus (Plinii Simia) says, “Indica maria balænas habent ultra spatia quatuor jugerum.” See also Bochart’s Hierozoicon (i. 50) for Job’s Leviathan (xli. 16–17). Hence deemed an island. A basking whale would readily suggest the Krakan and Cetus of Olaus Magnus (xxi. 25). Al–Kazwíni’s famous treatise on the “Wonders of the World” (Ajáib al-Makhlúkát) tells the same tale of the “Sulahfah” tortoise, the colossochelys, for which see Night dl.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the ship-master cried to the passengers, “Leave your gear and seek safety, ere ye die;” all who heard him left gear and goods, clothes washed and unwashed, fire pots and brass cooking-pots, and fled back to the ship for their lives, and some reached it while others (amongst whom was I) did not, for suddenly the island shook and sank into the abysses of the deep, with all that were thereon, and the dashing sea surged over it with clashing waves. I sank with the others down, down into the deep, but Almighty Allah preserved me from drowning and threw in my way a great wooden tub of those that had served the ship’s company for tubbing. I gripped it for the sweetness of life and, bestriding it like one riding, paddled with my feet like oars, whilst the waves tossed me as in sport right and left. Meanwhile the captain made sail and departed with those who had reached the ship, regardless of the drowning and the drowned; and I ceased not following the vessel with my eyes, till she was hid from sight and I made sure of death. Darkness closed in upon me while in this plight and the winds and waves bore me on all that night and the next day, till the tub brought to with me under the lee of a lofty island, with trees overhanging the tide. I caught hold of a branch and by its aid clambered up on to the land, after coming nigh upon death; but when I reached the shore, I found my legs cramped and numbed and my feet bore traces of the nibbling of fish upon their soles; withal I had felt nothing for excess of anguish and fatigue. I threw myself down on the island ground, like a dead man, and drowned in desolation swooned away, nor did I return to my senses till next morning, when the sun rose and revived me. But I found my feet swollen, so made shift to move by shuffling on my breech and crawling on my knees, for in that island were found store of fruits and springs of sweet water. I ate of the fruits which strengthened me; and thus I abode days and nights, till my life seemed to return and my spirits began to revive and I was better able to move about. So, after due consideration, I fell to exploring the island and diverting myself with gazing upon all things that Allah Almighty had created there; and rested under the trees from one of which I cut me a staff to lean upon. One day as I walked along the marge, I caught sight of some object in the distance and thought it a wild beast or one of the monster-creatures of the sea; but, as I drew near it, looking hard the while, I saw that it was a noble mare, tethered on the beach. Presently I went up to her, but she cried out against me with a great cry, so that I trembled for fear and turned to go away, when there came forth a man from under the earth and followed me, crying out and saying, “Who and whence art thou, and what caused thee to come hither?” “O my lord,” answered I, “I am in very sooth, a waif, a stranger, and was left to drown with sundry others by the ship we voyaged in;1 but Allah graciously sent me a wooden tub; so I saved myself thereon and it floated with me, till the waves cast me up on this island.” When he heard this, he took my hand and saying, “Come with me,” carried me into a great Sardab, or underground chamber, which was spacious as a saloon. He made me sit down at its upper end; then he brought me somewhat of food and, being anhungered, I ate till I was satisfied and refreshed; and when he had put me at mine ease he questioned me of myself, and I told him all that had befallen me from first to last; and, as he wondered at my adventure, I said, “By Allah, O my lord, excuse me; I have told thee the truth of my case and the accident which betided me; and now I desire that thou tell me who thou art and why thou abidest here under the earth and why thou hast tethered yonder mare on the brink of the sea.” Answered he, “Know, that I am one of the several who are stationed in different parts of this island, and we are of the grooms of King Mihrjan2 and under our hand are all his horses. Every month, about new-moon tide we bring hither our best mares which have never been covered, and picket them on the sea-shore and hide ourselves in this place under the ground, so that none may espy us. Presently, the stallions of the sea scent the mares and come up out of the water and seeing no one, leap the mares and do their will of them. When they have covered them, they try to drag them away with them, but cannot, by reason of the leg-ropes; so they cry out at them and butt at them and kick them, which we hearing, know that the stallions have dismounted; so we run out and shout at them, whereupon they are startled and return in fear to the sea. Then the mares conceive by them and bear colts and fillies worth a mint of money, nor is their like to be found on earth’s face. This is the time of the coming forth of the sea-stallions; and Inshallah! I will bear thee to King Mihrjan”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Sindbad does not say that he was a shipwrecked man, being a model in the matter of “travellers’ tales,” i.e. he always tells the truth when an untruth would not serve him.
2 Lane (iii. 83) would make this a corruption of the Hindu “Maharáj”=great Rajah: but it is the name of the great autumnal fête of the Guebres; a term composed of two good old Persian words “Mihr” (the sun, whence “Mithras”) and “ján”=life. As will presently appear, in the days of the Just King Anushirwán, the Persians possessed Southern Arabia and East Afica south of Cape Guardafui (Jird Háfún). On the other hand, supposing the word to be a corruption of Maharaj, Sindbad may allude to the famous Narsinga kingdom in Mid-south India whose capital was Vijaya-nagar; or to any great Indian Rajah even he of Kachch (Cutch), famous in Moslem story as the Balhará (Ballaba Rais, who founded the Ballabhi era; or the Zamorin of Camoens, the Samdry Rajah of Malabar). For Mahrage, or Mihrage, see Renaudot’s “Two Mohammedan Travellers of the Ninth Century.” In the account of Ceylon by Wolf (English Transl. p. 168) it adjoins the “Ilhas de Cavalos” (of wild horses) to which the Dutch merchants sent their brood-mares. Sir W. Jones (Description of Asia, chapt. ii.) makes the Arabian island Soborma or Mahráj=Borneo.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Syce1 said to Sindbad the Seaman, “I will bear thee to King Mihrjan and show thee our country. And know that hadst thou not happened on us thou hadst perished miserably and none had known of thee: but I will be the means of the saving of thy life and of thy return to thine own land.” I called down blessings on him and thanked him for his kindness and courtesy; and, while we were yet talking, behold, the stallion came up out of the sea; and, giving a great cry, sprang upon the mare and covered her. When he had done his will of her, he dismounted and would have carried her away with him, but could not by reason of the tether. She kicked and cried out at him, whereupon the groom took a sword and target2 and ran out of the underground saloon, smiting the buckler with the blade and calling to his company, who came up shouting and brandishing spears; and the stallion took fright at them and plunging into the sea, like a buffalo, disappeared under the waves.3 After this we sat awhile, till the rest of the grooms came up, each leading a mare, and seeing me with their fellow-Syce, questioned me of my case and I repeated my story to them. Thereupon they drew near me and spreading the table, ate and invited me to eat; so I ate with them, after which they took horse and mounting me on one of the mares, set out with me and fared on without ceasing, till we came to the capital city of King Mihrjan, and going in to him acquainted him with my story. Then he sent for me, and when they set me before him and salams had been exchanged, he gave me a cordial welcome and wishing me long life bade me tell him my tale. So I related to him all that I had seen and all that had befallen me from first to last, whereat he marvelled and said to me, “By Allah, O my son, thou hast indeed been miraculously preserved! Were not the term of thy life a long one, thou hadst not escaped from these straits; but praised by Allah for safety!” Then he spoke cheerily to me and entreated me with kindness and consideration: moreover, he made me his agent for the port and registrar of all ships that entered the harbour. I attended him regularly, to receive his commandments, and he favoured me and did me all manner of kindness and invested me with costly and splendid robes. Indeed, I was high in credit with him, as an intercessor for the folk and an intermediary between them and him, when they wanted aught of him. I abode thus a great while and, as often as I passed through the city to the port, I questioned the merchants and travellers and sailors of the city of Baghdad; so haply I might hear of an occasion to return to my native land, but could find none who knew it or knew any who resorted thither. At this I was chagrined, for I was weary of long strangerhood; and my disappointment endured for a time till one day, going in to King Mihrjan, I found him with a company of Indians. I saluted them and they returned my salam; and politely welcomed me and asked me of my country. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sáis”; the well-known Anglo–Indian word for a groom or rather a “horse-keeper.”
2 Arab. “Darakah”; whence our word.
3 The myth of mares being impregnated by the wind was known to the Classics of Europe; and the “sea-stallion” may have arisen from the Arab practice of picketing mare asses to be covered by the wild ass. Colonel J. D. Watson of the Bombay Army suggests to me that Sindbad was wrecked at the mouth of the Ran of Kachch (Cutch) and was carried in a boat to one of the Islands there formed during the rains and where the wild ass (Equus Onager, Khar-gadh, in Pers. Gor-khar) still breeds. This would explain the “stallions of the sea” and we find traces of the ass blood in the true Kathiawár horse, with his dun colour, barred legs and dorsal stripe.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman said:— When they asked me of my country I questioned them of theirs and they told me that they were of various castes, some being called Shakiriyah1 who are the noblest of their castes and neither oppress nor offer violence to any, and others Brahmans, a folk who abstain from wine, but live in delight and solace and merriment and own camels and horses and cattle. Moreover, they told me that the people of India are divided into two-and-seventy castes, and I marvelled at this with exceeding marvel. Amongst other things that I saw in King Mihrjan’s dominions was an island called Kásil,2 wherin all night is heard the beating of drums and tabrets; but we were told by the neighbouring islanders and by travellers that the inhabitants are people of diligence and judgment.3 In this sea I saw also a fish two hundred cubits long and the fishermen fear it; so they strike together pieces of wood and put it to flight.4 I also saw another fish, with a head like that of an owl, besides many other wonders and rarities, which it would be tedious to recount. I occupied myself thus in visiting the islands till, one day, as I stood in the port, with a staff in my hand, according to my custom, behold, a great ship, wherein were many merchants, came sailing for the harbour. When it reached the small inner port where ships anchor under the city, the master furled his sails and making fast to the shore, put out the landing-planks, whereupon the crew fell to breaking bulk and landing cargo whilst I stood by, taking written note of them. They were long in bringing the goods ashore so I asked the master, “Is there aught left in thy ship?”; and he answered, “O my lord, there are divers bales of merchandise in the hold, whose owner was drowned from amongst us at one of the islands on our course; so his goods remained in our charge by way of trust and we purpose to sell them and note their price, that we may convey it to his people in the city of Baghdad, the Home of Peace.” “What was the merchant’s name?” quoth I, and quoth he, “Sindbad the Seaman;” whereupon I straitly considered him and knowing him, cried out to him with a great cry, saying, “O captain, I am that Sindbad the Seaman who travelled with other merchants; and when the fish heaved and thou calledst to us some saved themselves and others sank, I being one of them. But Allah Almighty threw in my way a great tub of wood, of those the crew had used to wash withal, and the winds and waves carried me to this island, where by Allah’s grace, I fell in with King Mihrjan’s grooms and they brought me hither to the King their master. When I told him my story, he entreated me with favour and made me his harbour-master, and I have prospered in his service and found acceptance with him. These bales, therefore are mine, the goods which God hath given me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The second or warrior caste (Kshatriya), popularly supposed to have been annihilated by Battle-axe Ramá (Parashu Ráma); but several tribes of Rajputs and other races claim the honourable genealogy. Colonel Watson would explain the word by “Shakháyát” or noble Káthis (Kathiawar-men), or by “Shikári,” the professional hunter here acting as stable-groom.
2 In Bul. Edit. “Kábil.” Lane (iii. 88) supposes it to be the “Bartail” of Al–Kazwini near Borneo and quotes the Spaniard B. L. de Argensola (History of the Moluccas), who places near Banda a desert island, Poelsatton, infamous for cries, whistlings, roarings and dreadful apparitions, suggesting that it was peopled by devils (Stevens, vol. i., p. 168).
3 Some texts substitute for this last phrase, “And the sailors say that Al–Dajjál is there.” He is a manner of Moslem Antichrist, the Man of Sin per excellentiam, who will come in the latter days and lay waste the earth, leading 70,000 Jews, till encountered and slain by Jesus at the gate of Lud. (Sale’s Essay, sect. 4.)
4 Also from Al–Kazwini: it is an exaggerated description of the whale still common off the East African Coast. My crew was dreadfully frightened by one between Berberah and Aden. Nearchus scared away the whales in the Persian Gulf by trumpets (Strabo, lib. xv.). The owl-faced fish is unknown to me: it may perhaps be a seal or a manatee. Hole says that Father Martini, the Jesuit (seventeenth century), placed in the Canton Seas, an “animal with the head of a bird and the tail of a fish,”— a parrot-beak?
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sindbad the Seaman said to the captain, “These bales are mine, the goods which Allah hath given me,” the other exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily, there is neither conscience nor good faith left among men!” said I, “O Rais,1 what mean these words, seeing that I have told thee my case?” And he answered, “Because thou heardest me say that I had with me goods whose owner was drowned, thou thinkest to take them without right; but this is forbidden by law to thee, for we saw him drown before our eyes, together with many other passengers, nor was one of them saved. So how canst thou pretend that thou art the owner of the goods?” “O captain,” said I, “listen to my story and give heed to my words, and my truth will be manifest to thee; for lying and leasing are the letter-marks of the hypocrites.” Then I recounted to him all that had befallen me since I sailed from Baghdad with him to the time when we came to the fish-island where we were nearly drowned; and I reminded him of certain matters which had passed between us; whereupon both he and the merchants were certified at the truth of my story and recognized me and gave me joy of my deliverance, saying, “By Allah, we thought not that thou hadst escaped drowning! But the Lord hath granted thee new life.” Then they delivered my bales to me, and I found my name written thereon, nor was aught thereof lacking. So I opened them and making up a present for King Mihrjan of the finest and costliest of the contents, caused the sailors carry it up to the palace, where I went in to the King and laid my present at his feet, acquainting him with what had happened, especially concerning the ship and my goods; whereat he wondered with exceeding wonder and the truth of all that I had told him was made manifest to him. His affection for me redoubled after that and he showed me exceeding honour and bestowed on me a great present in return for mine. Then I sold my bales and what other matters I owned making a great profit on them, and bought me other goods and gear of the growth and fashion of the island-city. When the merchants were about to start on their homeward voyage, I embarked on board the ship all that I possessed, and going in to the King, thanked him for all his favours and friendship and craved his leave to return to my own land and friends. He farewelled me and bestowed on me great store of the country-stuffs and produce; and I took leave of him and embarked. Then we set sail and fared on nights and days, by the permission of Allah Almighty; and Fortune served us and Fate favoured us, so that we arrived in safety at Bassorah-city where I landed rejoiced at my safe return to my natal soil. After a short stay, I set out for Baghdad, the House of Peace, with store of goods and commodities of great price. Reaching the city in due time, I went straight to my own quarter and entered my house where all my friends and kinsfolk came to greet me. Then I bought me eunuchs and concubines, servants and negro slaves till I had a large establishment, and I bought me houses, and lands and gardens, till I was richer and in better case than before, and returned to enjoy the society of my friends and familiars more assiduously than ever, forgetting all I had suffered of fatigue and hardship and strangerhood and every peril of travel; and I applied myself to all manner joys and solaces and delights, eating the dantiest viands and drinking the deliciousest wines; and my wealth allowed this state of things to endure. “This, then, is the story of my first voyage, and to-morrow, Inshallah! I will tell you the tale of the second of my seven voyages.” (Saith he who telleth the tale), Then Sindbad the Seaman made Sindbad the Landsman sup with him and bade give him an hundred gold pieces, saying, “Thou hast cheered us with thy company this day.”2 The Porter thanked him and, taking the gift, went his way, pondering that which he had heard and marvelling mightily at what things betide mankind. He passed the night in his own place and with early morning repaired to the abode of Sindbad the Seaman, who received him with honour and seated him by his side. As soon as the rest of the company was assembled, he set meat and drink before them and, when they had well eaten and drunken and were merry and in cheerful case, he took up his discourse and recounted to them in these words the narrative of
Know, O my brother, that I was living a most comfortable and enjoyable life, in all solace and delight, as I told you yesterday — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sindbad the Seaman’s guests were all gathered together he thus bespake them:— I was living a most enjoyable life until one day my mind became possessed with the thought of travelling about the world of men and seeing their cities and islands; and a longing seized me to traffic and to make money by trade. Upon this resolve I took a great store of cash and, buying goods and gear fit for travel, bound them up in bales. Then I went down to the river-bank, where I found a noble ship and brand-new about to sail, equipped with sails of fine cloth and well manned and provided; so I took passage in her, with a number of other merchants, and after embarking our goods we weighed anchor the same day. Right fair was our voyage and we sailed from place to place and from isle to isle; and whenever we anchored we met a crowd of merchants and notables and customers, and we took to buying and selling and bartering. At last Destiny brought us to an island, fair and verdant, in trees abundant, with yellow-ripe fruits luxuriant, and flowers fragrant and birds warbling soft descant; and streams crystalline and radiant; but no sign of man showed to the descrier, no, not a blower of the fire.1 The captain made fast with us to this island, and the merchants and sailors landed and walked about, enjoying the shade of the trees and the song of the birds, that chanted the praises of the One, the Victorious, and marvelling at the works of the Omnipotent King.2 I landed with the rest; and, sitting down by a spring of sweet water that welled up among the trees, took out some vivers I had with me and ate of that which Allah Almighty had allotted unto me. And so sweet was the zephyr and so fragrant were the flowers, that presently I waxed drowsy and, lying down in that place, was soon drowned in sleep. When I awoke, I found myself alone, for the ship had sailed and left me behind, nor had one of the merchants or sailors bethought himself of me. I seared the island right and left, but found neither man nor Jinn, whereat I was beyond measure troubled and my gall was like to burst for stress of chagrin and anguish and concern, because I was left quite alone, without aught of wordly gear or meat or drink, weary and heart-broken. So I gave myself up for lost and said, “Not always doth the crock escape the shock. I was saved the first time by finding one who brought me from the desert island to an inhabited place, but now there is no hope for me.” Then I fell to weeping and wailing and gave myself up to an access of rage, blaming myself for having again ventured upon the perils and hardships of voyage, whenas I was at my ease in mine own house in mine own land, taking my pleasure with good meat and good drink and good clothes and lacking nothing, neither money nor goods. And I repented me of having left Baghdad, and this the more after all the travails and dangers I had undergone in my first voyage, wherein I had so narrowly escaped destruction, and exclaimed “Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning!” I was indeed even as one mad and Jinn-struck and presently I rose and walked about the island, right and left and every whither, unable for trouble to sit or tarry in any one place. Then I climbed a tall tree and looked in all directions, but saw nothing save sky and sea and trees and birds and isles and sands. However, after a while my eager glances fell upon some great white thing, afar off in the interior of the island; so I came down from the tree and made for that which I had seen; and behold, it was a huge white dome rising high in air and of vast compass. I walked all around it, but found no door thereto, nor could I muster strength or nimbleness by reason of its exceeding smoothness and slipperiness. So I marked the spot where I stood and went round about the dome to measure its circumference which I found fifty good paces. And as I stood, casting about how to gain an entrance the day being near its fall and the sun being near the horizon, behold, the sun was suddenly hidden from me and the air became dull and dark. Methought a cloud had come over the sun, but it was the season of summer; so I marvelled at this and lifting my head looked steadfastly at the sky, when I saw that the cloud was none other than an enormous bird, of gigantic girth and inordinately wide of wing which, as it flew through the air, veiled the sun and hid it from the island. At this sight my wonder redoubled and I remembered a story — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued in these words:— My wonder redoubled and I remembered a story I had heard aforetime of pilgrims and travellers, how in a certain island dwelleth a huge bird, called the “Rukh”1 which feedeth its young on elephants; and I was certified that the dome which caught my sight was none other than a Rukh’s egg. As I looked and wondered at the marvellous works of the Almighty, the bird alighted on the dome and brooded over it with its wings covering it and its legs stretched out behind it on the ground, and in this posture it fell asleep, glory be to Him who sleepeth not! When I saw this, I arose and, unwinding my turband from my head, doubled it and twisted it into a rope, with which I girt my middle and bound my waist fast to the legs of the Rukh, saying in myself, “Peradventure, this bird may carry me to a land of cities and inhabitants, and that will be better than abiding in this desert island.” I passed the night watching and fearing to sleep, lest the bird should fly away with me unawares; and, as soon as the dawn broke and morn shone, the Rukh rose off its egg and spreading its wings with a great cry flew up into the air dragging me with it; nor ceased it to soar and to tower till I thought it had reached the limit of the firmament; after which it descended, earthwards, little by little, till it lighted on the top of a high hill. As soon as I found myself on the hard ground, I made haste to unbind myself, quaking for fear of the bird, though it took no heed of me nor even felt me; and, loosing my turband from its feet, I made off with my best speed. Presently, I saw it catch up in its huge claws something from the earth and rise with it high in air, and observing it narrowly I saw it to be a serpent big of bulk and gigantic of girth, wherewith it flew away clean out of sight. I marvelled at this and faring forwards found myself on a peak overlooking a valley, exceeding great and wide and deep, and bounded by vast mountains that spired high in air: none could descry their summits, for the excess of their height, nor was any able to climb up thereto. When I saw this, I blamed myself for that which I had done and said, “Would Heaven I had tarried in the island! It was better than this wild desert; for there I had at least fruits to eat and water to drink, and here are neither trees nor fruits nor streams. But there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily, as often as I am quit of one peril, I fall into a worse danger and a more grievous.” However, I took courage and walking along the Wady found that its soil was of diamond, the stone wherewith they pierce minerals and precious stones and porcelain and the onyx, for that it is a dense stone and a dure, whereon neither iron nor hardhead hath effect, neither can we cut off aught therefrom nor break it, save by means of leadstone.2 Moreover, the valley swarmed with snakes and vipers, each big as a palm tree, that would have made but one gulp of an elephant; and they came out by night, hiding during the day, lest the Rukhs and eagles pounce on them and tear them to pieces, as was their wont, why I wot not. And I repented of what I had done and said, “By Allah, I have made haste to bring destruction upon myself!” The day began to wane as I went along and I looked about for a place where I might pass the night, being in fear of the serpents; and I took no thought of meat and drink in my concern for my life. Presently, I caught sight of a cave nearhand, with a narrow doorway; so I entered and seeing a great stone close to the mouth, I rolled it up and stopped the entrance, saying to myself, “I am safe here for the night; and as soon as it is day, I will go forth and see what destiny will do.” Then I looked within the cave and saw to the upper end a great serpent brooding on her eggs, at which my flesh quaked and my hair stood on end; but I raised my eyes to Heaven and, committing my case to fate and lot, abode all that night without sleep till daybreak, when I rolled back the stone from the mouth of the cave and went forth, staggering like a drunken man and giddy with watching and fear and hunger. As in this sore case I walked along the valley, behold, there fell down before me a slaughtered beast; but I saw no one, whereat I marvelled with great marvel and presently remembered a story I had heard aforetime of traders and pilgrims and travellers; how the mountains where are the diamonds are full of perils and terrors, nor can any fare through them; but the merchants who traffic in diamonds have a device by which they obtain them, that is to say, they take a sheep and slaughter and skin it and cut it in pieces and cast them down from the mountain-tops into the valley-sole, where the meat being fresh and sticky with blood, some of the gems cleave to it. There they leave it till mid-day, when the eagles and vultures swoop down upon it and carry it in their claws to the mountain-summits, whereupon the merchants come and shout at them and scare them away from the meat. Then they come and, taking the diamonds which they find sticking to it, go their ways with them and leave the meat to the birds and beasts; nor can any come at the diamonds but by this device — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The older “roc.” The word is Persian, with many meanings, e.g. a cheek (Lalla “Rookh”); a “rook” (hero) at chess; a rhinoceros, etc. The fable world-wide of the wundervogel is, as usual, founded upon fact: man remembers and combines but does not create. The Egyptian Bennu (Ti-bennu=phoenix) may have been a reminiscence of gigantic pterodactyls and other winged monsters. From the Nile the legend fabled by these Oriental “putters out or five for one” overspread the world and gave birth to the Eorosh of the Zend, whence the Pers. “Símurgh” (=the “thirty-fowl- like”), the “Bar Yuchre” of the Rabbis, the “Garuda” of the Hindus; the “Anká” (“long-neck”) of the Arabs; the “Hathilinga bird,” of Buddhagosha’s Parables, which had the strength of five elephants; the “Kerkes” of the Turks; the “Gryps” of the Greeks; the Russian “Norka”; the sacred dragon of the Chinese; the Japanese “Pheng” and “Kirni”; the “wise and ancient Bird” which sits upon the ash-tree yggdrasil, and the dragons, griffins, basilisks, etc. of the Middle Ages. A second basis wanting only a superstructure of exaggeration (M. Polo’s Ruch had wing-feathers twelve paces long) would be the huge birds but lately killed out. Sindbad may allude to the Æpyornus of Madagascar, a gigantic ostrich whose egg contains 2.35 gallons. The late Herr Hildebrand discovered on the African coast, facing Madagascar, traces of another huge bird. Bochart (Hierozoicon ii. 854) notices the Avium Avis Ruch and taking the pulli was followed by lapidation on the part of the parent bird. A Persian illustration in Lane (iii. 90) shows the Rukh carrying off three elephants in beak and pounces with the proportions of a hawk and field mice: and the Rukh hawking at an elephant is a favourite Persian subject. It is possible that the “Twelve Knights of the Round Table” were the twelve Rukhs of Persian story. We need not go, with Faber, to the Cherubim which guarded the Paradise-gate. The curious reader will consult Dr. H. H. Wilson’s Essays, edited by my learned correspondent, Dr. Rost, Librarian of the India House (vol. i. pp. 192–3).
2 It is not easy to explain this passage unless it be a garbled allustion to the steel-plate of the diamond-cutter. Nor can we account for the wide diffusion of this tale of perils unless to enhance the value of the gem. Diamonds occur in alluvial lands mostly open and comparatively level, as in India, the Brazil and the Cape. Archbishop Epiphanius of Salamis (ob. A.D. 403) tells this story about the jacinth or ruby (Epiphanii Opera, a Petaio, Coloniæ 1682); and it was transferred to the diamond by Marco Polo (iii. 29, “of Eagles bring up diamonds”) and Nicolo de Conti, whose “mountain Albenigaras” must be Vijayanagar in the kingdom of Golconda. Major Rennel places the famous mines of Pauna or Purna in a mountain-tract of more than 200 miles square to the southwest of the Jumna. Al–Kazwini locates the “Chaos” in the “Valley of the Moon amongst the mountains of Serendib” (Ceylon); the Chinese tell the same tale in the campaigns of Hulaku; and it is known in Armenia. Col. Yule (M. P. ii. 349) suggests that all these are ramifications of the legend told by Herodotus concerning the Arabs and their cinnamon (iii. 3). But whence did Herodotus borrow the tale?
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued his relation of what befel him in the Mountain of Diamonds, and informed them that the merchants cannot come at the diamonds save by the device aforesaid. So, when I saw the slaughtered beast fall (he pursued) and bethought me of the story, I went up to it and filled my pockets and shawl-girdle and turband and the folds of my clothes with the choicest diamonds; and, as I was thus engaged, down fell before me another great piece of meat. Then with my unrolled turband and lying on my back, I set the bit on my breast so that I was hidden by the meat, which was thus raised above the ground. Hardly had I gripped it, when an eagle swooped down upon the flesh and, seizing it with his talons, flew up with it high in air and me clinging thereto, and ceased not its flight till it alighted on the head of one of the mountains where, dropping the carcass he fell to rending it; but, behold, there arose behind him a great noise of shouting and clattering of wood, whereat the bird took fright and flew away. Then I loosed off myself the meat, with clothes daubed with blood therefrom, and stood up by its side; whereupon up came the merchant, who had cried out at the eagle, and seeing me standing there, bespoke me not, but was affrighted at me and shook with fear. However, he went up to the carcass and turning it over, found no diamonds sticking to it, whereat he gave a great cry and exclaimed, “Harrow, my disappointment! There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah with whom we seek refuge from Satan the stoned!” And he bemoaned himself and beat hand upon hand, saying, “Alas, the pity of it! How cometh this?” Then I went up to him and he said to me, “Who art thou and what causeth thee to come hither?” And I, “Fear not, I am a man and a good man and a merchant. My story is a wondrous and my adventures marvellous and the manner of my coming hither is prodigious. So be of good cheer, thou shalt receive of me what shall rejoice thee, for I have with me great plenty of diamonds and I will give thee thereof what shall suffice thee; for each is better than aught thou couldst get otherwise. So fear nothing.” The man rejoiced thereat and thanked and blessed me; then we talked together till the other merchants, hearing me in discourse with their fellow, came up and saluted me; for each of them had thrown down his piece of meat. And as I went off with them I told them my whole story, how I had suffered hardships at sea and the fashion of my reaching the valley. But I gave the owner of the meat a number of the stones I had by me, so they all wished me joy of my escape, saying, “By Allah a new life hath been decreed to thee, for none ever reached yonder valley and came off thence alive before thee; but praised be Allah for thy safety!” We passed the night together in a safe and pleasant place, beyond measure rejoiced at my deliverance from the Valley of Serpents and my arrival in an inhabited land; and on the morrow we set out and journeyed over the mighty range of mountains, seeing many serpents in the valley, till we came to a fair great island, wherein was a garden of huge camphor trees under each of which an hundred men might take shelter. When the folk have a mind to get camphor, they bore into the upper part of the bole with a long iron; whereupon the liquid camphor, which is the sap of the tree, floweth out and they catch it in vessels, where it concreteth like gum; but, after this, the tree dieth and becometh firewood.1 Moreover, there is in this island a kind of wild beast, called “Rhinoceros,”2 that pastureth as do steers and buffalos with us; but it is a huge brute, bigger of body than the camel and like it feedeth upon the leaves and twigs of trees. It is a remarkable animal with a great and thick horn, ten cubits long, amiddleward its head; wherein, when cleft in twain, is the likeness of a man. Voyagers and pilgrims and travellers declare that this beast called “Karkadan” will carry off a great elephant on its horn and graze about the island and the sea-coast therewith and take no heed of it, till the elephant dieth and its fat, melting in the sun, runneth down into the rhinoceros’s eyes and blindeth him, so that he lieth down on the shore. Then comes the bird Rukh and carrieth off both the rhinoceros’s eyes and blindeth him, so that he lieth down on the shore. Then comes the bird Rukh and carrieth off both the rhinoceros and that which is on its horn to feed its young withal. Moreover, I saw in this island many kinds of oxen and buffalos, whose like are not found in our country. Here I sold some of the diamonds which I had by me for gold dinars and silver dirhams and bartered others for the produce of the country; and, loading them upon beasts of burden, fared on with the merchants from valley to valley and town to town, buying and selling and viewing foreign countries and the works and creatures of Allah, till we came to Bassorah-city, where we abode a few days, after which I continued my journey to Baghdad. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Sindbad correctly describes the primitive way of extracting camphor, a drug unknown to the Greeks and Romans, introduced by the Arabs and ruined in reputation by M. Raspail. The best Laurus Camphora grows in the Malay Peninsula, Sumatra and Borneo: although Marsden (Marco Polo) declares that the tree is not found South of the Equator. In the Calc. Edit. of two hundred Nights the camphor-island (or peninsula) is called “Al-Ríhah” which is the Arab name for Jericho-town.
2 In Bul. Edit. Kazkazan: Calc. Karkaddan and others Karkand and Karkadan; the word being Persian, Karg or Kargadan; the {Greek letters} of Ælian (Hist. Anim. xvi. 21). The length of the horn (greatly exaggerated) shows that the white species is meant; and it supplies only walking-sticks. Cups are made of the black horn (a bundle of fibres) which, like Venetian glass, sweat at the touch of poison. A section of the horn is supposed to show white lines in the figure of a man, and sundry likenesses of birds; but these I never saw. The rhinoceros gives splendid sport and the African is perhaps the most dangerous of noble game. It has served to explain away and abolish the unicorn among the Scientists of Europe. But Central Africa with one voice assures us that a horse-like animal with a single erectile horn on the forehead exists. The late Dr. Baikic, of Niger fame, thoroughly believed in it and those curious on the subject will read about Abu Karn (Father of a Horn) in Preface (pp. xvi.-xviii.) of the Voyage au Darfour, by Mohammed ibn Oman al-Tounsy (Al–Tunisi), Paris, Duprat, 1845.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sindbad the Seaman returned from his travel to Baghdad, the House of Peace, he arrived at home with great store of diamonds and money and goods. (Continued he) I foregathered with my friends and relations and gave alms and largesse and bestowed curious gifts and made presents to all my friends and companions. Then I betook myself to eating well and drinking well and wearing fine clothes and making merry with my fellows, and forgot all my sufferings in the pleasures of return to the solace and delight of life, with light heart and broadened breast. And every one who heard of my return came and questioned me of my adventures and of foreign countries, and I related to them all that had befallen me, and the much I had suffered, whereat they wondered and gave me joy of my safe return. “This, then is the end of the story of my second voyage; and to-morrow, Inshallah! I will tell you what befel me in my third voyage.” The company marvelled at his story and supped with him; after which he ordered an hundred dinars of gold to be given to the Porter, who took the sum with many thanks and blessings (which he stinted not even when he reached home) and went his way, wondering at what he had heard. Next morning as soon as day came in its sheen and shone, he rose and praying the dawn-prayer, repaired to the house of Sindbad the Seaman, even as he had bidden him, and went in and gave him good-morrow. The merchant welcomed him and made him sit with him, till the rest of the company arrived; and when they had well eaten and drunken and were merry with joy and jollity, their host began by saying, “Hearken, O my brothers, to what I am about to tell you; for it is even more wondrous than what you have already heard; but Allah alone kenneth what things His Omniscience concealed from man! And listen to
As I told you yesterday, I returned from my second voyage overjoyed at my safety and with great increase of wealth, Allah having requited me all that I had wasted and lost, and I abode awhile in Baghdad-city savouring the utmost ease and prosperity and comfort and happiness, till the carnal man was once more seized with longing for travel and diversion and adventure, and yearned after traffic and lucre and emolument, for that the human heart is naturally prone to evil. So making up my mind I laid in great plenty of goods suitable for a sea-voyage and repairing to Bassorah, went down to the shore and found there a fine ship ready to sail, with a full crew and a numerous company of merchants, men of worth and substance; faith, piety and consideration. I embarked with them and we set sail on the blessing of Allah Almighty and on His aidance and His favour to bring our voyage to a safe and prosperous issue and already we congratulated one another on our good fortune and boon voyage. We fared on from sea to sea and from island to island and city to city, in all delight and contentment, buying and selling wherever we touched, and taking our solace and our pleasure, till one day when, as we sailed athwart the dashing sea, swollen with clashing billows, behold, the master (who stood on the gunwale examining the ocean in all directions) cried out with a great cry, and buffeted his face and pluckt out his beard and rent his raiment, and bade furl the sail and cast the anchors. So we said to him, “O Rais, what is the matter?” “Know, O my brethren (Allah preserve you!), that the wind hath gotten the better of us and hath driven us out of our course into mid-ocean, and destiny, for our ill luck, hath brought us to the Mountain of the Zughb, a hairy folk like apes,1 among whom no man ever fell and came forth alive; and my heart presageth that we all be dead men.” Hardly had the master made an end of his speech when the apes were upon us. They surrounded the ship on all sides swarming like locusts and crowding the shore. They were the most frightful of wild creatures, covered with black hair like felt, foul of favour and small of stature, being but four spans high, yellow-eyed and black-faced; none knoweth their language nor what they are, and they shun the company of men. We feared to slay them or strike them or drive them away, because of their inconceivable multitude; lest, if we hurt one, the rest fall on us and slay us, for numbers prevail over courage; so we let them do their will, albeit we feared they would plunder our goods and gear. They swarmed up the cables and gnawed them asunder, and on like wise they did with all the ropes of the ship, so that it fell off from the wind and stranded upon their mountainous coast. Then they laid hands on all the merchants and crew, and landing us on the island, made off with the ship and its cargo and went their ways, we wot not whither. We were thus left on the island, eating of its fruits and pot-herbs and drinking of its streams till, one day, we espied in its midst what seemed an inhabited house. So we made for it as fast as our feet could carry us and behold, it was a castle strong and tall, compassed about with a lofty wall, and having a two-leaved gate of ebony-wood both of which leaves open stood. We entered and found within a space wide and bare like a great square, round which stood many high doors open thrown, and at the farther end a long bench of stone and brasiers, with cooking gear hanging thereon and about it great plenty of bones; but we saw no one and marvelled thereat with exceeding wonder. Then we sat down in the courtyard a little while and presently falling asleep, slept from the forenoon till sundown, when lo! the earth trembled under our feet and the air rumbled with a terrible tone. Then there came down upon us, from the top of the castle, a huge creature in the likeness of a man, black of colour, tall and big of bulk, as he were a great date-tree, with eyes like coals of fire and eye-teeth like boar’s tusks and a vast big gape like the mouth of a well. Moreover, he had long loose lips like camel’s, hanging down upon his breast and ears like two Jarms2 falling over his shoulder-blades and the nails of his hands were like the claws of a lion.3 When we saw this frightful giant, we were like to faint and every moment increased our fear and terror; and we became as dead men for excess of horror and affright. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Ibn al-Wardi mentions an “Isle of Apes” in the Sea of China and Al–Idrísi places it two days’ sail from Sukutra (Dwipa Sukhatra, Socotra). It is a popular error to explain the Homeric and Herodotean legend of the Pygmies by anthropoid apes. The Pygmy fable (Pygmæi Spithamai=1 cubit=3 spans) was, as usual, based upon fact, as the explorations of late years have proved: the dwarfs are homunculi of various tribes, the Akka, Doko, Tiki-Tiki, Wambilikimo (“two-cubit men”), the stunted race that share the central regions of Intertropical Africa with the abnormally tall peoples who speak dialects of the Great South African tongue, miscalled the “Bantu.” Hole makes the Pygmies “monkeys,” a word we have borrowed from the Italians (monichio à mono=ape) and quotes Ptolemy, (Ape–Islands) East of Sunda.
2 A kind of barge (Arab. Bárijah, plur. Bawárij) used on the Nile of sub-pyriform shape when seen in bird’s eye. Lane translates “ears like two mortars” from the Calc. Edit.
3 This giant is distinctly Polyphemus; but the East had giants and cyclopes of her own (Hierozoicon ii. 845). The Ajáib al-Hind (chapt. cxxii.) makes Polyphemus copulate with the sheep. Sir John Mandeville (if such person ever existed) mentions men fifty feet high in the Indian Islands; and Al–Kazwini and Al-Idrisi transfer them to the Sea of China, a Botany Bay for monsters in general.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— When we saw this frightful giant we were struck with exceeding terror and horror. And after trampling upon the earth, he sat awhile on the bench; then he arose and coming to us seized me by the arm choosing me out from among my comrades the merchants. He took me up in his hand and turning me over felt me, as a butcher feeleth a sheep he is about to slaughter, and I but a little mouthful in his hands; but finding me lean and fleshless for stress of toil and trouble and weariness, let me go and took up another, whom in like manner he turned over and felt and let go; nor did he cease to feel and turn over the rest of us, one after another, till he came to the master of the ship. Now he was a sturdy, stout, broad-shouldered wight, fat and in full vigour; so he pleased the giant, who seized him, as a butcher seizeth a beast, and throwing him down, set his foot on his neck and brake it; after which he fetched a long spit and thrusting it up his backside, brought it forth of the crown of his head. Then, lighting a fierce fire, he set over it the spit with the Rais thereon, and turned it over the coals, till the flesh was roasted, when he took the spit off the fire and set it like a Kabáb-stick before him. Then he tare the body, limb from limb, as one jointeth a chicken and, rending the flesh with his nails, fell to eating of it and gnawing the bones, till there was nothing left but some of these, which he threw on one side of the wall. This done, he sat for a while; then he lay down on the stone-bench and fell asleep, snarking and snoring like the gurgling of a lamb or a cow with its throat cut; nor did he awake till morning, when he rose and fared forth and went his ways. As soon as we were certified that he was gone, we began to talk with one another, weeping and bemoaning ourselves for the risk we ran, and saying, “Would Heaven we had been drowned in the sea or that the apes had eaten us! That were better than to be roasted over the coals; by Allah, this is a vile, foul death! But whatso the Lord willeth must come to pass and there is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Him, the Glorious, the Great! We shall assuredly perish miserably and none will know of us; as there is no escape for us from this place.” Then we arose and roamed about the island, hoping that haply we might find a place to hide us in or a means of flight, for indeed death was a light matter to us, provided we were not roasted over the fire1 and eaten. However, we could find no hiding-place and the evening overtook us; so, of the excess of our terror, we returned to the castle and sat down awhile. Presently, the earth trembled under our feet and the black ogre came up to us and turning us over, felt one after other, till he found a man to his liking, whom he took and served as he had done the captain, killing and roasting and eating him: after which he lay down on the bench2 and slept all night, snarking and snoring like a beast with its throat cut, till daybreak, when he arose and went out as before. Then we drew together and conversed and said one to other, “By Allah, we had better throw ourselves into the sea and be drowned than die roasted; for this is an abominable death!” Quoth one of us, “Hear ye my words! let us cast about to kill him, and be at peace from the grief of him and rid the Moslems of his barbarity and tyranny.” Then said I, “Hear me, O my brothers; if there is nothing for it but to slay him, let us carry some of this firewood and planks down to the sea-shore and make us a boat wherein, if we succeed in slaughtering him, we may either embark and let the waters carry us whither Allah willeth, or else abide here till some ship pass, when we will take passage in it. If we fail to kill him, we will embark in the boat and put out to sea; and if we be drowned, we shall at least escape being roasted over a kitchen fire with sliced weasands; whilst, if we escape, we escape, and if we be drowned, we die martyrs.” “By Allah,” said they all, “this rede is a right;” and we agreed upon this, and set about carrying it out. So we haled down to the beach the pieces of wood which lay about the bench; and, making a boat, moored it to the strand, after which we stowed therein somewhat of victual and returned to the castle. As soon as evening fell the earth trembled under our feet and in came the blackamoor upon us, snarling like a dog about to bite. He came up to us and feeling us and turning us over one by one, took one of us and did with him as he had done before and ate him, after which he lay down on the bench and snored and snorted like thunder. As soon as we were assured that he slept, we arose and taking two iron spits of those standing there, heated them in the fiercest of the fire, till they were red-hot, like burning coals, when we gripped fast hold of them and going up to the giant, as he lay snoring on the bench, thrust them into his eyes and pressed upon them, all of us, with our united might, so that his eyeballs burst and he became stone blind. Thereupon he cried with a great cry, whereat our hearts trembled, and springing up from the bench, he fell a- groping after us, blind-fold. We fled from him right and left and he saw us not, for his sight was altogether blent; but we were in terrible fear of him and made sure we were dead men despairing of escape. Then he found the door, feeling for it with his hands and went out roaring aloud; and behold, the earth shook under us, for the noise of his roaring, and we quaked for fear. As he quitted the castle we followed him and betook ourselves to the place where we had moored our boat, saying to one another, “If this accursed abide absent till the going down of the sun and come not to the castle, we shall know that he is dead; and if he come back, we will embark in the boat and paddle till we escape, committing our affair to Allah.” But, as we spoke, behold, up came the blackamoor with other two as they were Ghuls, fouler and more frightful than he, with eyes like red-hot coals; which when we saw, we hurried into the boat and casting off the moorings paddled away and pushed out to sea.3 As soon as the ogres caught sight of us, they cried out at us and running down to the sea-shore, fell a-pelting us with rocks, whereof some fell amongst us and others fell into the sea. We paddled with all our might till we were beyond their reach, but the most part of us were slain by the rock-throwing, and the winds and waves sported with us and carried us into the midst of the dashing sea, swollen with billows clashing. We knew not whither we went and my fellows died one after another, till there remained but three, myself and two others; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Fire is forbidden as a punishment amongst Mosems, the idea being that it should be reserved for the next world. Hence the sailors fear the roasting more than the eating: with ours it would probably be the reverse. The Persian insult “Pidar- sokhtah”=(son of a) burnt father, is well known. I have noted the advisability of burning the Moslem’s corpse under certain circumstances: otherwise the murderer may come to be canonised.
2 Arab. “Mastabah”=the bench or form of masonry before noticed. In olden Europe benches were much more used than chairs, these being articles of luxury. So King Horne “sett him abenche;” and hence our “King’s Bench” (Court).
3 This is from the Bresl. Edit. vol. iv. 32: the Calc. Edit gives only an abstract and in the Bul. Edit. the Ogre returned “accompanied by a female, greater than he and more hideous.” We cannot accept Mistress Polyphemus.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman thus continued:— Most part of us were slain by the rock-thowing and only three of us remained on board the boat for, as often as one died, we threw him into the sea. We were sore exhausted for stress of hunger, but we took courage and heartened one another and worked for dear life and paddled with main and might, till the winds cast us upon an island, as we were dead men for fatigue and fear and famine. We landed on the island and walked about it for a while, finding that it abounded in trees and streams and birds; and we ate of the fruits and rejoiced in our escape from the black and our deliverance from the perils of the sea; and thus we did till nightfall, when we lay down and fell asleep for excess of fatigue. But we had hardly closed our eyes before we were aroused by a hissing sound like the sough of wind, and awaking, saw a serpent like a dragon, a seld-seen sight, of monstrous make and belly of enormous bulk which lay in a circle around us. Presently it reared its head and, seizing one of my companions, swallowed him up to his shoulders; then it gulped down the rest of him, and we heard his ribs crack in its belly. Presently it went its way, and we abode in sore amazement and grief for our comrade and mortal fear for ourselves, saying, “By Allah, this is a marvellous thing! Each kind of death that threatened us is more terrible than the last. We were rejoicing in our escape from the black ogre and our deliverance from the perils of the sea; but now we have fallen into that which is worse. There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! By the Almighty, we have escaped from the blackamoor and from drowning: but how shall we escape from this abominable and viperish monster?” Then we walked about the island, eating of its fruits and drinking of its streams till dusk, when we climbed up into a high tree and went to sleep there, I being on the topmost bough. As soon as it was dark night, up came the serpent, looking right and left; and, making for the tree whereon we were, climbed up to my comrade and swallowed him down to his shoulders. Then it coiled about the bole1 with him, whilst I, who could not take my eyes off the sight, heard his bones crack in its belly, and it swallowed him whole, after which it slid down from the tree. When the day broke and the light showed me that the serpent was gone, I came down, as I were a dead man for stress of fear and anguish, and thought to cast myself into the sea and be at rest from the woes of the world; but could not bring myself to this, for verily life is dear. So I took five pieces of wood, broad and long, and bound one crosswise to the soles of my feet and others in like fashion on my right and left sides and over my breast; and the broadest and largest I bound across my head and made them fast with ropes. Then I lay down on the ground on my back, so that I was completely fenced in by the pieces of wood, which enclosed me like a bier.2 So as soon as it was dark, up came the serpent, as usual, and made towards me, but could not get at me to swallow me for the wood that fenced me in. So it wriggled round me on every side, whilst I looked on, like one dead by reason of my terror; and every now and then it would glide away and come back; but as often as it tried to come at me, it was hindered by the pieces of wood wherewith I had bound myself on every side. It ceased not to beset me thus from sundown till dawn, but when the light of day shone upon the beast it made off, in the utmost fury and extreme disappointment. Then I put out my hand and unbound myself, well-nigh down among the dead men for fear and suffering; and went down to the island-shore, whence a ship afar off in the midst of the waves suddenly struck my sight. So I tore off a great branch of a tree and made signs with it to the crew, shouting out the while; which when the ship’s company saw they said to another, “We must stand in and see what this is; peradventure ’tis a man.” So they made for the island and presently heard my cries, whereupon they took me on board and questioned me of my case. I told them all my adventures from first to last, whereat they marvelled mightily and covered my shame3 with some of their clothes. Moreover, they set before me somewhat of food and I ate my fill and I drank cold sweet water and was mightily refreshed; and Allah Almighty quickened me after I was virtually dead. So I praised the Most Highest and thanked Him for His favours and exceeding mercies, and my heart revived in me after utter despair, till meseemed as if all I had suffered were but a dream I had dreamed. We sailed on with a fair wind the Almighty sent us till we came to an island, called Al–Saláhitah,4 which aboundeth in sandal-wood when the captain cast anchor — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is from Al–Kazwini, who makes the serpent “wind itself round a tree or a rock, and thus break to pieces the bones of the breast in its belly.”
2 “Like a closet,” in the Calc. Edit. The serpent is an exaggeration of the python which grows to an enormous size. Monstrous Ophidia are mentioned in sober history, e.g. that which delayed the army of Regulus. Dr. de Lacerda, a sober and sensible Brazilian traveller, mentions his servants sitting down upon a tree-trunk in the Captaincy of San Paulo (Brasil), which began to move and proved to be a huge snake. F. M. Pinto (the Sindbad of Portugal though not so respectable) when in Sumatra takes refuge in a tree from “tigers, crocodiles, copped adders and serpents which slay men with their breath.” Father Lobo in Tigre (chapt. x.) was nearly killed by the poison-breath of a huge snake, and healed himself with a bezoar carried ad hoc. Maffææus makes the breath of crocodiles suavissimus, but that of the Malabar serpents and vipers “adeo teter ac noxius ut afflatu ipso necare perhibeantur.”
3 Arab. “Aurat”: the word has been borrowed by the Hindostani jargon, and means a woman, a wife.
4 So in Al–Idrísi and Langlès: the Bres. Edit. has “Al-Kalásitah”; and Al–Kazwini “Al–Salámit.” The latter notes in it a petrifying spring which Camoens (The Lus. x. 104), places in Sunda, i.e. Java–Minor of M. Polo. Some read Salabat–Timor, one of the Moluccas famed for sanders, cloves, cinnamon, etc. (Purchas ii. 1784.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— And when we had cast anchor, the merchants and the sailors landed with their goods to sell and to buy. Then the captain turned to me and said, “Hark’ee, thou art a stranger and a pauper and tellest us that thou hast undergone frightful hardship; wherefore I have a mind to benefit thee with somewhat that may further thee to thy native land, so thou wilt ever bless me and pray for me.” “So be it,” answered I; “thou shalt have my prayers.” Quoth he, “Know then that there was with us a man, a traveller, whom we lost, and we know not if he be alive or dead, for we had no news of him; so I purpose to commit his bales of goods to thy charge, that thou mayst sell them in this island. A part of the proceeds we will give thee as an equivalent for thy pains and service, and the rest we will keep till we return to Baghdad, where we will enquire for his family and deliver it to them, together with the unsold goods. Say me then, wilt thou undertake the charge and land and sell them as other merchants do?” I replied “Hearkening and obedience to thee, O my lord; and great is thy kindness to me,” and thanked him; whereupon he bade the sailors and porters bear the bales in question ashore and commit them to my charge. The ship’s scribe asked him, “O master, what bales are these and what merchant’s name shall I write upon them?”; and he answered, “Write on them the name of Sindbad the Seaman, him who was with us in the ship and whom we lost at the Rukh’s island, and of whom we have no tidings; for we mean this stranger to sell them; and we will give him a part of the price for his pains and keep the rest till we return to Baghdad where, if we find the owner we will make it over to him, and if not, to his family.” And the clerk said, “Thy words are apposite and thy rede is right.” Now when I heard the captain give orders for the bales to be inscribed with my name, I said to myself, “By Allah, I am Sindbad the Seaman!” So I armed myself with courage and patience and waited till all the merchants had landed and were gathered together, talking and chaffering about buying and selling; then I went up to the captain and asked him, “O my lord, knowest thou what manner of man was this Sindbad, whose goods thou hast committed to me for sale?”; and he answered, “I know of him naught save that he was a man from Baghdad-city, Sindbad hight the Seaman, who was drowned with many others when we lay anchored at such an island and I have heard nothing of him since then.” At this I cried out with a great cry and said, “O captain, whom Allah keep! know that I am that Sindbad the Seaman and that I was not drowned, but when thou castest anchor at the island, I landed with the rest of the merchants and crew; and I sat down in a pleasant place by myself and ate somewhat of food I had with me and enjoyed myself till I became drowsy and was drowned in sleep; and when I awoke, I found no ship and none near me. These goods are my goods and these bales are my bales; and all the merchants who fetch jewels from the Valley of Diamonds saw me there and will bear me witness that I am the very Sindbad the Seaman; for I related to them everything that had befallen me and told them how you forgot me and left me sleeping on the island, and that betided me which betided me.” When the passengers and crew heard my words, they gathered about me and some of them believed me and others disbelieved; but presently, behold, one of the merchants, hearing me mention the Valley of Diamonds, came up to me and said to them, “Hear what I say, good people! When I related to you the most wonderful thing in my travels, and I told you that, at the time we cast down our slaughtered animals into the Valley of Serpents (I casting with the rest as was my wont), there came up a man hanging to mine, ye believed me not and gave me the lie.” “Yes,” quoth they, “thou didst tell us some such tale, but we had no call to credit thee.” He resumed, “Now this is the very man, by token that he gave me diamonds of great value, and high price whose like are not to be found, requiting me more than would have come up sticking to my quarter of meat; and I companied with him to Bassorah-city, where he took leave of us and went on to his native stead, whilst we returned to our own land. This is he; and he told us his name, Sindbad the Seaman, and how the ship left him on the desert island. And know ye that Allah hath sent him hither, so might the truth of my story be made manifest to you. Moreover, these are his goods for, when he first foregathered with us, he told us of them; and the truth of his words is patent.” Hearing the merchant’s speech the captain came up to me and considered me straitly awhile, after which he said, “What was the mark on thy bales?” “Thus and thus,” answered I, and reminded him of somewhat that had passed between him and me, when I shipped with him from Bassorah. Thereupon he was convinced that I was indeed Sindbad the Seaman and took me round the neck and gave me joy of my safety, saying, “By Allah, O my lord, thy case is indeed wondrous and thy tale marvellous; but lauded be Allah who hath brought thee and me together again, and who hath restored to thee thy goods and gear!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman thus continued:—“Alhamdolillah!” quoth the captain, “lauded be Allah who hath restored unto thee thy goods and gear.” Then I disposed of my merchandise to the best of my skill, and profited largely on them whereat I rejoiced with exceeding joy and congratulated myself on my safety and the recovery of my goods. We ceased not to buy and sell at the several islands till we came to the land of Hind, where we bought cloves and ginger and all manner spices; and thence we fared on to the land of Sind, where also we bought and sold. In these Indian seas, I saw wonders without number or count, amongst others a fish like a cow which bringeth forth its young and suckleth them like human beings; and of its skin bucklers are made.1 There were eke fishes like asses and camels2 and tortoises twenty cubits wide.3 And I saw also a bird that cometh out of a sea-shell and layeth eggs and hatcheth her chicks on the surface of the water, never coming up from the sea to the land.4 Then we set sail again with a fair wind and the blessing of Almighty Allah; and, after a prosperous voyage, arrived safe and sound at Bassorah. Here I abode a few days and presently returned to Baghdad where I went at once to my quarter and my house and saluted my family and familiars and friends. I had gained on this voyage what was beyond count and reckoning, so I gave alms and largesse and clad the widow and the orphan, by way of thanksgiving for my happy return, and fell to feasting and making merry with my companions and intimates and forgot, while eating well and drinking well and dressing well, everything that had befallen me and all the perils and hardships I had suffered. “These, then, are the most admirable things I sighted on my third voyage, and to-morrow, an it be the will of Allah, you shall come to me and I will relate the adventures of my fourth voyage, which is still more wonderful than those you have already heard.” (Saith he who telleth the tale), Then Sindbad the Seaman bade give Sindbad the Landsman an hundred golden dinars as of wont and called for food. So they spread the tables and the company ate the night-meal and went their ways, marvelling at the tale they had heard. The Porter after taking his gold passed the night in his own house, also wondering at what his namesake the Seaman had told him, and as soon as day broke and the morning showed with its sheen and shone, he rose and praying the dawn-prayer betook himself to Sindbad the Seaman, who returned his salute and received him with an open breast and cheerful favour and made him sit with him till the rest of the company arrived, when he caused set on food and they ate and drank and made merry. Then Sindbad the Seaman bespake them and related to them the narrative of
1 Evidently the hippopotamus (Pliny, viii. 25; ix. 3 and xxiii. 11). It can hardly be the Mulaccan Tapir, as shields are not made of the hide. Hole suggests the buffalo which found its way to Egypt from India viâ Persia; but this would not be a speciosum miraculum.
2 The ass-headed fish is from Pliny (ix. cap. 3): all those tales are founded upon the manatee (whose dorsal protuberance may have suggested the camel), the seal and the dugong or sea calf. I have noticed (Zanzibar i. 205) legends of ichthyological marvels current on the East African seaboard; and even the monsters of the Scottish waters are not all known: witness the mysterious “brigdie.” See Bochart De Cetis i. 7; and Purchas iii. 930.
3 The colossal tortoise is noticed by Ælian (De Nat. Animal. xvi. 17), by Strabo (Lib. xv.), by Pliny (ix. 10) and Diodorus Siculus (iv. 1) who had heard of a tribe of Chelonophagi. Ælian makes them 16 cubits long near Taprobane and serving as house-roofs; and others turn the shell into boats and coracles. A colossochelys was first found on the Scwalik Hills by Dr. Falconer and Major (afterwards Sir Proby) Cantley. In 1867 M. Emile Blanchard exhibited to the Academie des Sciences a monster crab from Japan 1.20 metres long (or 2.50 including legs); and other travellers have reported 4 metres. These crustaceæ seem never to cease growing and attain great dimensions under favourable circumstances, i.e. when not troubled by man.
4 Lane suggests (iii. 97), and with some probability, that the “bird” was a nautilus; but the wild traditions concerning the barnacle-goose may perhaps have been the base of the fable. The albatross also was long supposed never to touch land. Possible the barnacle, like the barometz of Tartarean lamb, may be a survivor of the day when the animal and vegetable kingdoms had not yet branched off into different directions.
Know, O my brethren that after my return from my third voyage and foregathering with my friends, and forgetting all my perils and hardships in the enjoyment of ease and comfort and repose, I was visited one day by a company of merchants who sat down with me and talked of foreign travel and traffic, till the old bad man within me yearned to go with them and enjoy the sight of strange countries, and I longed for the society of the various races of mankind and for traffic and profit. So I resolved to travel with them and buying the necessaries for a long voyage, and great store of costly goods, more than ever before, transported them from Baghdad to Bassorah where I took ship with the merchants in question, who were of the chief of the town. We set out, trusting in the blessing of Almighty Allah; and with a favouring breeze and the best conditions we sailed from island to island and sea to sea, till, one day, there arose against us a contrary wind and the captain cast out his anchors and brought the ship to a standsill, fearing lest she should founder in mid-ocean. Then we all fell to prayer and humbling ourselves before the Most High; but, as we were thus engaged there smote us a furious squall which tore the sails to rags and tatters: the anchor-cable parted and, the ship foundering, we were cast into the sea, goods and all. I kept myself afloat by swimming half the day, till, when I had given myself up for lost, the Almighty threw in my way one of the planks of the ship, whereon I and some others of the merchants scrambled. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued as follows:— And when the ship foundered I scrambled on to a plank with some others of the merchants and, mounting it as we would a horse, paddled with our feet in the sea. We abode thus a day and a night, the wind and waves helping us on, and on the second day shortly before the mid-time between sunrise and noon1 the breeze freshened and the sea wrought and the rising waves cast us upon an island, well-nigh dead bodies for weariness and want of sleep, cold and hunger and fear and thirst. We walked about the shore and found abundance of herbs, whereof we ate enough to keep breath in body and to stay our failing spirits, then lay down and slept till morning hard by the sea. And when morning came with its sheen and shone, we arose and walked about the island to the right and left, till we came in sight of an inhabited house afar off. So we made towards it, and ceased not walking till we reached the door thereof when lo! a number of naked men issued from it and without saluting us or a word said, laid hold of us masterfully and carried us to their king, who signed us to sit. So we sat down and they set food before us such as we knew not2 and whose like we had never seen in all our lives. My companions ate of it, for stress of hunger, but my stomach revolted from it and I would not eat; and my refraining from it was, by Allah’s favour, the cause of my being alive till now: for no sooner had my comrades tasted of it than their reason fled and their condition changed and they began to devour it like madmen possessed of an evil spirit. Then the savages gave them to drink of cocoa-nut oil and anointed them therewith; and straightway after drinking thereof, their eyes turned into their heads and they fell to eating greedily, against their wont. When I saw this, I was confounded and concerned for them, nor was I less anxious about myself, for fear of the naked folk. So I watched them narrowly, and it was not long before I discovered them to be a tribe of Magian cannibals whose King was a Ghul.3 All who came to their country or whoso they caught in their valleys or on their roads they brought to this King and fed them upon that food and anointed them with that oil, whereupon their stomachs dilated that they might eat largely, whilst their reason fled and they lost the power of thought and became idiots. Then they stuffed them with cocoa-nut oil and the aforesaid food, till they became fat and gross, when they slaughtered them by cutting their throats and roasted them for the King’s eating; but, as for the savages themselves, they ate human flesh raw.4 When I saw this, I was sore dismayed for myself and my comrades, who were now become so stupefied that they knew not what was done with them and the naked folk committed them to one who used every day to lead them out and pasture them on the island like cattle. And they wandered amongst the trees and rested at will, thus waxing very fat. As for me, I wasted away and became sickly for fear and hunger and my flesh shrivelled on my bones; which when the savages saw, they left me alone and took no thought of me and so far forgot me that one day I gave them the slip and walking out of their place made for the beach which was distant and there espied a very old man seated on a high place, girt by the waters. I looked at him and knew him for the herdsman, who had charge of pasturing my fellows, and with him were many others in like case. As soon as he saw me, he knew me to be in possession of my reason and not afflicted like the rest whom he was pasturing; so signed to me from afar, as who should say, “Turn back and take the right-hand road, for that will lead thee into the King’s highway.” So I turned back, as he bade me, and followed the right-hand road, now running for fear and then walking leisurely to rest me, till I was out of the old man’s sight. By this time, the sun had gone down and the darkness set in; so I sat down to rest and would have slept, but sleep came not to me that night, for stress of fear and famine and fatigue. When the night was half spent, I rose and walked on, till the day broke in all its beauty and the sun rose over the heads of the lofty hills and athwart the low gravelly plains. Now I was weary and hungry and thirsty; so I ate my fill of herbs and grasses that grew in the island and kept life in body and stayed my stomach, after which I set out again and fared on all that day and the next night, staying my greed with roots and herbs; nor did I cease walking for seven days and their nights, till the morn of the eighth day, when I caught sight of a faint object in the distance. So I made towards it, though my heart quaked for all I had suffered first and last, and behold it was a company of men gathering pepper-grains.5 As soon as they saw me, they hastened up to me and surrounding me on all sides, said to me, “Who art thou and whence come?” I replied, “Know, O folk, that I am a poor stranger,” and acquainted them with my case and all the hardships and perils I had suffered — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zahwah,” also meaning a luncheon. The five daily prayers made all Moslems take strict account of time, and their nomenclature of its division is extensive.
2 This is the “insane herb.” Davis, who visited Sumatra in 1599 (Purchas i. 120) speaks “of a kind of seed, whereof a little being eaten, maketh a man to turn foole, all things seeming to him to be metamorphosed.” Linschoten’s “Dutroa” was a poppy-like bud containing small kernels like melons which stamped and administered as a drink make a man “as if he were foolish, or out of his wits.” This is Father Lobo’s “Vanguini” of the Cafres, called by the Portuguese dutro (Datura Stramonium) still used by dishonest confectioners. It may be Dampier’s Ganga (Ganjah) or Bang (Bhang) which he justly describes as acting differently “according to different constitutions; for some it stupefies, others it makes sleepy, others merry and some quite mad.” (Harris, Collect. ii. 900.) Dr. Fryer also mentions Duty, Bung and Post, the Poust of Bernier, an infusion of poppy-seed.
3 Arab. “Ghul,” here an ogre, a cannibal. I cannot but regard the “Ghul of the waste” as an embodiment of the natural fear and horror which a man feels when he faces a really dangerous desert. As regards cannibalism, Al–Islam’s religion of common sense freely allows it when necessary to save life, and unlike our mawkish modern sensibility, never blames those who
Alimentis talibus usi
Produxere animos.
4 For Cannibals, see the Massagetæ of Herod (i.), the Padæi of India (iii.), and the Essedones near Mæotis (iv.); Strabo (lib. iv.) of the Luci; Pomponious Mela (iii. 7) and St. Jerome (ad Jovinum) of Scoti. M. Polo locates them in Dragvia, a kingdom of Sumatra (iii. 17), and in Angaman (the Andamanian Isles?), possibly the ten Maniolai which Ptolemy (vii.), confusing with the Nicobars, places on the Eastern side of the Bay of Bengal; and thence derives the Heraklian stone (magnet) which attracts the iron of ships (See Serapion, De Magnete, fol. 6, Edit. of 1479, and Brown’s Vulgar Errors, p. 74, 6th Edit.). Mandeville finds his cannibals in Lamaray (Sumatra) and Barthema in the “Isle of Gyava” (Java). Ibn Al–Wardi and Al–Kazwini notice them in the Isle Saksar, in the Sea of the Zanj (Zanzibar): the name is corrupted Persian “Sag–Sar” (Dogs’-heads) hence the dog-descended race of Camoens in Pegu (The Lus. x. 122). The Bresl. Edit. (iv. 52) calls them “Khawárij”=certain sectarians in Eastern Arabia. Needless to say that cocoa-nut oil would have no stupefying effect unless mixed with opium or datura, hemp or henbane.
5 Black pepper is produced in the Goanese but we must go south to find the “Bilád al-Filfil” (home of pepper) i.e. Malabar. The exorbitant prices demanded by Venice for this spice led directly to the discovery of The Cape route by the Portuguese; as the “Grains of Paradise” (Amomum Granum Paradisi) induced the English to explore the West African Coast.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— And the men gathering pepper in the island questioned me of my case, when I acquainted them with all the hardships and perils I had suffered and how I had fled from the savages; whereat they marvelled and gave me joy of my safety, saying, “By Allah, this is wonderful! But how didst thou escape from these blacks who swarm in the island and devour all who fall in with them; nor is any safe from them, nor can any get out of their clutches?” And after I had told them the fate of my companions, they made me sit by them, till they got quit of their work; and fetched me somewhat of good food, which I ate, for I was hungry, and rested awhile, after which they took ship with me and carrying me to their island-home brought me before their King, who returned my salute and received me honourably and questioned me of my case. I told him all that had befallen me, from the day of my leaving Baghdad-city, whereupon he wondered with great wonder at my adventures, he and his courtiers, and bade me sit by him; then he called for food and I ate with him what sufficed me and washed my hands and returned thanks to Almighty Allah for all His favours praising Him and glorifying Him. Then I left the King and walked for solace about the city, which I found wealthy and populous, abounding in market-streets well stocked with food and merchandise and full of buyers and sellers. So I rejoiced at having reached so pleasant a place and took my ease there after my fatigues; and I made friends with the townsfolk, nor was it long before I became more in honour and favour with them and their King than any of the chief men of the realm. Now I saw that all the citizens, great and small, rode fine horses, high-priced and thorough-bred, without saddles or housings, whereat I wondered and said to the King, “Wherefore, O my lord, dost thou not ride with a saddle? Therein is ease for the rider and increase of power.” “What is a saddle?” asked he: “I never saw nor used such a thing in all my life;” and I answered, “With thy permission I will make thee a saddle, that thou mayest ride on it and see the comfort thereof.” And quoth he, “Do so.” So quoth I to him, “Furnish me with some wood,” which being brought, I sought me a clever carpenter and sitting by him showed him how to make the saddle-tree, portraying for him the fashion thereof in ink on the wood. Then I took wool and teased it and made felt of it, and, covering the saddle-tree with leather, stuffed it and polished it and attached the girth and stirrup leathers; after which I fetched a blacksmith and described to him the fashion of the stirrups and bridle-bit. So he forged a fine pair of stirrups and a bit, and filed them smooth and tinned1 them. Moreover, I made fast to them fringes of silk and fitted bridle-leathers to the bit. Then I fetched one of the best of the royal horses and saddling and bridling him, hung the stirrups to the saddle and led him to the King. The thing took his fancy and he thanked me; then he mounted and rejoiced greatly in the saddle and rewarded me handsomely for my work. When the King’s Wazir saw the saddle, he asked of me one like it and I made it for him. Furthermore, all the grandees and officers of state came for saddles to me; so I fell to making saddles (having taught the craft to the carpenter and blacksmith), and selling them to all who sought, till I amassed great wealth and became in high honour and great favour with the King and his household and grandees. I abode thus till, one day, as I was sitting with the King in all respect and contentment, he said to me, “Know thou, O such an one, thou art become one of us, dear as a brother, and we hold thee in such regard and affection that we cannot part with thee nor suffer thee to leave our city; wherefore I desire of thee obedience in a certain matter, and I will not have thee gainsay me.” Answered I, “O King, what is it thou desirest of me? Far be it from me to gainsay thee in aught, for I am indebted to thee for many favours and bounties and much kindness, and (praised be Allah!) I am become one of thy servants.” Quoth he, “I have a mind to marry thee to a fair, clever and agreeable wife who is wealthy as she is beautiful; so thou mayst be naturalised and domiciled with us: I will lodge thee with me in my palace; wherefore oppose me not neither cross me in this.” When I heard these words I was ashamed and held my peace nor could make him any answer,2 by reason of my much bashfulness before him. Asked he, “Why dost thou not reply to me, O my son?”; and I answered saying, “O my master, it is thine to command, O King of the age!” So he summoned the Kazi and the witnesses and married me straightway to a lady of a noble tree and high pedigree; wealthy in moneys and means; the flower of an ancient race; of surpassing beauty and grace, and the owner of farms and estates and many a dwelling-place. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kazdír.” Sansk. “Kastír.” Gr. “Kassiteron.” Lat. “Cassiteros,” evidently derived from one root. The Heb. is “Badih,” a substitute, an alloy. “Tanakah” is the vulg. Arab. word, a congener of the Assyrian “Anaku,” and “Kala-i” is the corrupt Arab. term used in India.
2 Our Arabian Ulysses had probably left a Penelope or two at home and finds a Calypso in this Ogygia. His modesty at the mention of womankind is notable.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued in these words:— Now after the King my master had married me to this choice wife, he also gave me a great and goodly house standing alone, together with slaves and officers, and assigned me pay and allowances. So I became in all ease and contentment and delight and forgot everything which had befalled me of weariness and trouble and hardship; for I loved my wife with fondest love and she loved me no less, and we were as one and abode in the utmost comfort of life and in its happiness. And I said in myself, “When I return to my native land, I will carry her with me.” But whatso is predestined to a man, that needs must be, and none knoweth what shall befal him. We lived thus a great while, till Almighty Allah bereft one of my neighbours of his wife. Now he was a gossip of mine; so hearing the cry of the keeners I went in to condole with him on his loss and found him in very ill plight, full of trouble and weary of soul and mind. I condoled with him and comforted him, saying, “Mourn not for thy wife who hath now found the mercy of Allah; the Lord will surely give thee a better in her stead and thy name shall be great and thy life shall be long in the land, Inshallah!”1 But he wept bitter tears and replied, “O my friend, how can I marry another wife and how shall Allah replace her to me with a better than she, whenas I have but one day left to live?” “O my brother,” said I, “return to thy senses and announce not the glad tidings of thine own death, for thou art well, sound and in good case.” “By thy life, O my friend,” rejoined he, “to-morrow thou wilt lose me and wilt never see me again till the Day of Resurrection.” I asked, “How so?” and he answered, “This very day they bury my wife, and they bury me with her in one tomb; for it is the custom with us, if the wife die first, to bury the husband alive with her and in like manner the wife, if the husband die first; so that neither may enjoy life after losing his or her mate.” “By Allah,” cried I, “this is a most vile, lewd custom and not to be endured of any!” Meanwhile, behold, the most part of the townsfolk came in and fell to condoling with my gossip for his wife and for himself. Presently they laid the dead woman out, as was their wont; and, setting her on a bier, carried her and her husband without the city, till they came to a place in the side of the mountain at the end of the island by the sea; and here they raised a great rock and discovered the mouth of a stone-rivetted pit or well,2 leading down into a vast underground cavern that ran beneath the mountain. Into this pit they threw the corpse, then tying a rope of palm-fibres under the husband’s armpits, they let him down into the cavern, and with him a great pitcher of fresh water and seven scones by was of viaticum.3 When he came to the bottom, he loosed himself from the rope and they drew it up; and, stopping the mouth of the pit with the great stone, they returned to the city, leaving my friend in the cavern with his dead wife. When I saw this, I said to myself, “By Allah, this fashion of death is more grievous than the first!” And I went in to the King and said to him, “O my lord, why do ye bury the quick with the dead?” Quoth he, “It hath been the custom, thou must know, of our forbears and our olden Kings from time immemorial, if the husband die first, to bury his wife with him, and the like with the wife, so we may not sever them, alive or dead.” I asked, “O King of the age, if the wife of a foreigner like myself die among you, deal ye with him as with yonder man?”; and he answered, “Assuredly, we do with him even as thou hast seen.” When I heard this, my gall-bladder was like to burst, for the violence of my dismay and concern for myself: my wit became dazed; I felt as if in a vile dungeon; and hated their society; for I went about in fear lest my wife should die before me and they bury me alive with her. However, after a while, I comforted myself, saying, “Haply I shall predecease her, or shall have returned to my own land before she die, for none knoweth which shall go first and which shall go last.” Then I applied myself to diverting my mind from this thought with various occupations; but it was not long before my wife sickened and complained and took to her pillow and fared after a few days to the mercy of Allah; and the King and the rest of the folk came, as was their wont, to condole with me and her family and to console us for her loss and not less to condole with me for myself. Then the women washed her and arraying her in her richest raiment and golden ornaments, necklaces and jewellery, laid her on the bier and bore her to the mountain aforesaid, where they lifted the cover of the pit and cast her in; after which all my intimates and acquaintances and my wife’s kith and kin came round me, to farewell me in my lifetime and console me for my own death, whilst I cried out among them, saying, “Almighty Allah never made it lawful to bury the quick with the dead! I am a stranger, not one of your kind; and I cannot abear your custom, and had I known it I never would have wedded among you!” They heard me not and paid no heed to my words, but laying hold of me, bound me by force and let me down into the cavern, with a large gugglet of sweet water and seven cakes of bread, according to their custom. When I came to the bottom, they called out to me to cast myself loose from the cords, but I refused to do so; so they threw them down on me and, closing the mouth of the pit with the stones aforesaid, went their ways — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These are the commonplaces of Moslem consolation on such occasions: the artistic part is their contrast with the unfortunate widower’s prospect.
2 Lit. “a margin of stone, like the curb-stone of a well.”
3 I am not aware that this vivisepulture of the widower is the custom of any race, but the fable would be readily suggested by the Sati (Suttee)-rite of the Hindus. Simple vivisepulture was and is practised by many people.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— When they left me in the cavern with my dead wife and, closing the mouth of the pit, went their ways, I looked about me and found myself in a vast cave full of dead bodies, that exhaled a fulsome and loathsome smell and the air was heavy with the groans of the dying. Thereupon I fell to blaming myself for what I had done, saying, “By Allah, I deserve all that hath befallen me and all that shall befal me! What curse was upon me to take a wife in this city? There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! As often as I say, I have escaped from one calamity, I fall into a worse. By Allah, this is an abominable death to die! Would Heaven I had died a decent death and been washed and shrouded like a man and a Moslem. Would I had been drowned at sea or perished in the mountains! It were better than to die this miserable death!” And on such wise I kept blaming my own folly and greed of gain in that black hole, knowing not night from day; and I ceased not to ban the Foul Fiend and to bless the Almighty Friend. Then I threw myself down on the bones of the dead and lay there, imploring Allah’s help and in the violence of my despair, invoking death which came not to me, till the fire of hunger burned my stomach and thirst set my throat aflame when I sat up and feeling for the bread, ate a morsel and upon it swallowed a mouthful of water. After this, the worst night I ever knew, I arose, and exploring the cavern, found that it extended a long way with hollows in its sides; and its floor was strewn with dead bodies and rotten bones, that had lain there from olden time. So I made myself a place in a cavity of the cavern, afar from the corpses lately thrown down and there slept. I abode thus a long while, till my provision was like to give out; and yet I ate not save once every day or second day; nor did I drink more than an occasional draught, for fear my victual should fail me before my death; and I said to myself, “Eat little and drink little; belike the Lord shall vouchsafe deliverance to thee!” One day, as I sat thus, pondering my case and bethinking me how I should do, when my bread and water should be exhausted, behold, the stone that covered the opening was suddenly rolled away and the light streamed down upon me. Quoth I, “I wonder what is the matter: haply they have brought another corpse.” Then I espied folk standing about the mouth of the pit, who presently let down a dead man and a live woman, weeping and bemoaning herself, and with her an ampler supply of bread and water than usual.1 I saw her and she was a beautiful woman; but she saw me not; and they closed up the opening and went away. Then I took the leg-bone of a dead man and, going up to the woman, smote her on the crown of the head; and she cried one cry and fell down in a swoon. I smote her a second and a third time, till she was dead, when I laid hands on her bread and water and found on her great plenty of ornaments and rich apparel, necklaces, jewels and gold trinkets;2 for it was their custom to bury women in all their finery. I carried the vivers to my sleeping place in the cavern-side and ate and drank of them sparingly, no more than sufficed to keep the life in me, lest the provaunt come speedily to an end and I perish of hunger and thirst. Yet did I never wholly lose hope in Almighty Allah. I abode thus a great while, killing all the live folk they let down into the cavern and taking their provisions of meat and drink; till one day, as I slept, I was awakened by something scratching and burrowing among the bodies in a corner of the cave and said, “What can this be?” fearing wolves or hyaenas. So I sprang up and seizing the leg-bone aforesaid, made for the noise. As soon as the thing was ware of me, it fled from me into the inward of the cavern, and lo! it was a wild beast. However, I followed it to the further end, till I saw afar off a point of light not bigger than a star, now appearing and then disappearing. So I made for it, and as I drew near, it grew larger and brighter, till I was certified that it was a crevice in the rock, leading to the open country; and I said to myself, “There must be some reason for this opening: either it is the mouth of a second pit, such as that by which they let me down, or else it is a natural fissure in the stonery.” So I bethought me awhile and nearing the light, found that it came from a breach in the back side of the mountain, which the wild beasts had enlarged by burrowing, that they might enter and devour the dead and freely go to and fro. When I saw this, my spirits revived and hope came back to me and I made sure of life, after having died a death. So I went on, as in a dream, and making shift to scramble through the breach found myself on the slope of a high mountain, overlooking the salt sea and cutting off all access thereto from the island, so that none could come at that part of the beach from the city.3 I praised my Lord and thanked Him, rejoicing greatly and heartening myself with the prospect of deliverance; then I returned through the crack to the cavern and brought out all the food and water I had saved up and donned some of the dead folk’s clothes over my own; after which I gathered together all the collars and necklaces of pearls and jewels and trinkets of gold and silver set with precious stones and other ornaments and valuables I could find upon the corpses; and, making them into bundles with the grave clothes and raiment of the dead, carried them out to the back of the mountain facing the sea-shore, where I established myself, purposing to wait there till it should please Almighty Allah to send me relief by means of some passing ship. I visited the cavern daily and as often as I found folk buried alive there, I killed them all indifferently, men and women, and took their victual and valuables and transported them to my seat on the sea-shore. Thus I abode a long while — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Because she was weaker than a man. The Bresl. Edit. however, has “a gugglet of water and five scones.”
2 The confession is made with true Eastern sang-froid and probably none of the hearers “disapproved” of the murders which saved the speaker’s life.
3 This tale is evidently taken from the escape of Aristomenes the Messenian from the pit into which he had been thrown, a fox being his guide. The Arabs in an early day were eager students of Greek literature. Hole (p. 140) noted the coincidence.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— And after carrying all my victuals and valuables from the cavern to the coast I abode a long while by the sea, pondering my case, till one day I caught sight of a ship passing in the midst of the clashing sea, swollen with dashing billows. So I took a piece of a white shroud I had with me and, tying it to a staff, ran along the sea-shore, making signals therewith and calling to the people in the ship, till they espied me and hearing my shouts, sent a boat to fetch me off. When it drew near, the crew called out to me, saying, “Who art thou and how camest thou to be on this mountain, whereon never saw we any in our born days?” I answered, “I am a gentleman1 and a merchant, who hath been wrecked and saved myself on one of the planks of the ship, with some of my goods; and by the blessing of the Almighty and the decrees of Destiny and my own strength and skill, after much toil and moil I have landed with my gear in this place where I awaited some passing ship to take me off.” So they took me in their boat together with the bundles I had made of the jewels and valuables from the cavern, tied up in clothes and shrouds, and rowed back with me to the ship, where the captain said to me, “How camest thou, O man, to yonder place on yonder mountain behind which lieth a great city? All my life I have sailed these seas and passed to and fro hard by these heights; yet never saw I here any living thing save wild beasts and birds.” I repeated to him the story I had told the sailors,2 but acquainted him with nothing of that which had befallen me in the city and the cavern, lest there should be any of the islandry in the ship. Then I took out some of the best pearls I had with me and offered them to the captain, saying, “O my lord, thou hast been the means of saving me off this mountain. I have no ready money; but take this from me in requital of thy kindness and good offices.” But he refused to accept it of me, saying, “When we find a shipwrecked man on the sea-shore or on an island, we take him up and give him meat and drink, and if he be naked we clothe him; nor take we aught from him; nay, when we reach a port of safety, we set him ashore with a present of our own money and entreat him kindly and charitably, for the love of Allah the Most High.” So I prayed that his life be long in the land and rejoiced in my escape, trusting to be delivered from my stress and to forget my past mishaps; for every time I remembered being let down into the cave with my dead wife I shuddered in horror. Then we pursued our voyage and sailed from island to island and sea to sea, till we arrived at the Island of the Bell, which containeth a city two days’ journey in extent, whence after a six days’ run we reached the Island Kala, hard by the land of Hind.3 This place is governed by a potent and puissant King and it produceth excellent camphor and an abundance of the Indian rattan: here also is a lead mine. At last by the decree of Allah, we arrived in safety at Bassorah-town where I tarried a few days, then went on to Baghdad-city, and, finding my quarter, entered my house with lively pleasure. There I foregathered with my family and friends, who rejoiced in my happy return and gave my joy of my safety. I laid up in my storehouses all the goods I had brought with me, and gave alms and largesse to Fakirs and beggars and clothed the widow and the orphan. Then I gave myself up to pleasure and enjoyment, returning to my old merry mode of life. “Such, then, be the most marvellous adventures of my fourth voyage, but to-morrow if you will kindly come to me, I will tell you that which befel me in my fifth voyage, which was yet rarer and more marvellous than those which forewent it. And thou, O my brother Sindbad the Landsman, shalt sup with me as thou art wont.” (Saith he who telleth the tale), When Sindbad the Seaman had made an end of his story, he called for supper; so they spread the table and the guests ate the evening meal; after which he gave the Porter an hundred dinars as usual, and he and the rest of the company went their ways, glad at heart and marvelling at the tales they had heard, for that each story was more extraordinary than that which forewent it. The porter Sindbad passed the night in his own house, in all joy and cheer and wonderment; and, as soon as morning came with its sheen and shone, he prayed the dawn-prayer and repaired to the house of Sindbad the Seaman, who welcomed him and bade him sit with him till the rest of the company arrived, when they ate and drank and made merry and the talk went round amongst them. Presently, their host began the narrative of the fifth voyage — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Bresl. Edit. “Khwájah,” our “Howajee,” meaning a schoolmaster, a man of letters, a gentleman.
2 And he does repeat at full length what the hearers must have known right well. I abridge.
3 Island of the Bell (Arab. “Nákús”=a wooden gong used by Christians but forbidden to Moslems). “Kala” is written “Kela,” “Kullah” and a variety of ways. Baron Walckenaer places it at Keydah in the Malay peninsula opposite Sumatra. Renaudot identifies it with Calabar, “somewhere about the point of Malabar.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the host began in these words the narrative of
Know, O my brothers, that when I had been awhile on shore after my fourth voyage; and when, in my comfort and pleasures and merry-makings and in my rejoicing over my large gains and profits, I had forgotten all I had endured of perils and sufferings, the carnal man was again seized with the longing to travel and to see foreign countries and islands.1 Accordingly I bought costly merchandise suited to my purpose and, making it up into bales, repaired to Bassorah, where I walked about the river-quay till I found a fine tall ship, newly builded with gear unused and fitted ready for sea. She pleased me; so I bought her and, embarking my goods in her, hired a master and crew, over whom I set certain of my slaves and servants as inspectors. A number of merchants also brought their outfits and paid me freight and passage-money; then, after reciting the Fatihah we set sail over Allah’s pool in all joy and cheer, promising ourselves a prosperous voyage and much profit. We sailed from city to city and from island to island and from sea to sea viewing the cities and countries by which we passed, and selling and buying in not a few till one day we came to a great uninhabited island, deserted and desolate, whereon was a white dome of biggest bulk half buried in the sands. The merchants landed to examine this dome, leaving me in the ship; and when they drew near, behold, it was a huge Rukh’s egg. They fell a-beating it with stones, knowing not what it was, and presently broke it open, whereupon much water ran out of it and the young Rukh appeared within. So they pulled it forth of the shell and cut its throat and took of it great store of meat. Now I was in the ship and knew not what they did; but presently one of the passengers came up to me and said, “O my lord, come and look at the egg we thought to be a dome.” So I looked and seeing the merchants beating it with stones, called out to them, “Stop, stop! do not meddle with that egg, or the bird Rukh will come out and break our ship and destroy us.”2 But they paid no heed to me and gave not over smiting upon the egg, when behold, the day grew dark and dun and the sun was hidden from us, as if some great cloud had passed over the firmament.3 So we raised our eyes and saw that what we took for a cloud was the Rukh poised between us and the sun, and it was his wings that darkened the day. When he came and saw his egg broken, he cried a loud cry, whereupon his mate came flying up and they both began circling about the ship, crying out at us with voices louder than thunder. I called to the Rais and crew, “Put out to sea and seek safety in flight, before we be all destroyed.” So the merchants came on board and we cast off and made haste from the island to gain the open sea. When the Rukhs saw this, they flew off and we crowded all sail on the ship, thinking to get out of their country; but presently the two re-appeared and flew after us and stood over us, each carrying in its claws a huge boulder which it had brought from the mountains. As soon as the he-Rukh came up with us, he let fall upon us the rock he held in his pounces; but the master put about ship, so that the rock missed her by some small matter and plunged into the waves with such violence, that the ship pitched high and then sank into the trough of the sea and the bottom of the ocean appeared to us. Then the she-Rukh let fall her rock, which was bigger than that of her mate, and as Destiny had decreed, it fell on the poop of the ship and crushed it, the rudder flying into twenty pieces; whereupon the vessel foundered and all and everything on board were cast into the main.4 As for me I struggled for sweet life, till Almighty Allah threw in my way one of the planks of the ship, to which I clung and bestriding it, fell a-paddling with my feet. Now the ship had gone down hard by an island in the midst of the main and the winds and waves bore me on till, by permission of the Most High, they cast me up on the shore of the island, at the last gasp for toil and distress and half dead with hunger and thirst. So I landed more like a corpse than a live man and throwing myself down on the beach, lay there awhile, till I began to revive and recover spirits, when I walked about the island and found it as it were one of the garths and gardens of Paradise. Its trees, in abundance dight, bore ripe-yellow fruit for freight; its streams ran clear and bright; its flowers were fair to scent and to sight and its birds warbled with delight the praises of Him to whom belong permanence and all-might. So I ate my fill of the fruits and slaked my thirst with the water of the streams till I could no more and I returned thanks to the Most High and glorified Him; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Islands, because Arab cosmographers love to place their speciosa miracula in such places.
2 Like the companions of Ulysses who ate the sacred oxen (Od. xii.).
3 So the enormous kingfisher of Lucian’s True History (lib. ii.).
4 This tale is borrowed from Ibn Al–Wardi, who adds that the greybeards awoke in the morning after eating the young Rukh with black hair which never turned white. The same legend is recounted by Al–Dimiri (ob. A.H. 808=1405–6) who was translated into Latin by Bochart (Hierozoicon ii. p. 854) and quoted by Hole and Lane (iii. 103). An excellent study of Marco Polo’s Rukh was made by my learned friend the late Prof. G. G. Bianconi of Bologna, “Dell’Uccello Ruc,” Bologna, Gamberini, 1868. Prof. Bianconi predicted that other giant birds would be found in Madagascar on the East African Coast opposite; but he died before hearing of Hildebrand’s discovery.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— So when I escaped drowning and reached the island which afforded me fruit to eat and water to drink, I returned thanks to the Most High and glorified Him; after which I sat till nightfall, hearing no voice and seeing none inhabitant. Then I lay down, well-nigh dead for travail and trouble and terror, and slept without surcease till morning, when I arose and walked about under the trees, till I came to the channel of a draw-well fed by a spring of running water, by which well sat an old man of venerable aspect, girt about with a waist-cloth1 made of the fibre of palm-fronds.2 Quoth I to myself, “Haply this Shaykh is one of those who were wrecked in the ship and hath made his way to this island.” So I drew near to him and saluted him, and he returned my salam by signs, but spoke not; and I said to him, “O nuncle mine, what causeth thee to sit here?” He shook his head and moaned and signed to me with his hands as who should say, “Take me on thy shoulders and carry me to the other side of the well-channel.” And quoth I in my mind, “I will deal kindly with him and do what he desireth; it may be I shall win me a reward in Heaven for he may be a paralytic.” So I took him on my back and carrying him to the place whereat he pointed, said to him, “Dismount at thy leisure.” But he would not get off my back and wound his legs about my neck. I looked at them and seeing that they were like a buffalo’s hide for blackness and roughness,3 was affrighted and would have cast him off; but he clung to me and gripped my neck with his legs, till I was well-nigh choked, the world grew black in my sight and I fell senseless to the ground like one dead. But he still kept his seat and raising his legs drummed with his heels and beat harder than palm-rods my back and shoulders, till he forced me to rise for excess of pain. Then he signed to me with his hand to carry him hither and thither among the trees which bore the best fruits; and if ever I refused to do his bidding or loitered or took my leisure he beat me with his feet more grievously than if I had been beaten with whips. He ceased not to signal with his hand wherever he was minded to go; so I carried him about the island, like a captive slave, and he bepissed and conskited my shoulders and back, dismounting not night nor day; and whenas he wished to sleep he wound his legs about my neck and leaned back and slept awhile, then arose and beat me; whereupon I sprang up in haste, unable to gainsay him because of the pain he inflicted on me. And indeed I blamed myself and sore repented me of having taken compassion on him and continued in this condition, suffering fatigue not to be described, till I said to myself, “I wrought him a weal and he requited me with my ill; by Allah, never more will I do any man a service so long as I live!” And again and again I besought the Most High that I might die, for stress of weariness and misery; and thus I abode a long while till, one day, I came with him to a place wherein was abundance of gourds, many of them dry. So I took a great dry gourd and, cutting open the head, scooped out the inside and cleaned it; after which I gathered grapes from a vine which grew hard by and squeezed them into the gourd, till it was full of the juice. Then I stopped up the mouth and set it in the sun, where I left it for some days, until it became strong wine; and every day I used to drink of it, to comfort and sustain me under my fatigues with that froward and obstinate fiend; and as often as I drank myself drunk, I forgot my troubles and took new heart. One day he saw me drinking and signed to me with his hand, as who should say, “What is that?” Quoth I, “It is an excellent cordial, which cheereth the heart and reviveth the spirits.” Then, being heated with wine, I ran and danced with him among the trees, clapping my hands and singing and making merry; and I staggered under him by design. When he saw this, he signed to me to give him the gourd that he might drink, and I feared him and gave it him. So he took it and, draining it to the dregs, cast it on the ground, whereupon he grew frolicsome and began to clap hands and jig to and fro on my shoulders and he made water upon me so copiously that all my dress was drenched. But presently the fumes of the wine rising to his head, he became helplessly drunk and his side-muscles and limbs relaxed and he swayed to and fro on my back. When I saw that he had lost his senses for drunkenness, I put my hand to his legs and, loosing them from my neck, stooped down well-nigh to the ground and threw him at full length — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Izár,” the earliest garb of Eastern man; and, as such preserved in the Meccan pilgrimage. The “waist-cloth” is either tucked in or kept in place by a girdle.
2 Arab. “Líf,” a succedaneum for the unclean sponge, not unknown in the “Turkish Baths” of London.
3 The Persians have a Plinian monster called “Tasmeh-pá”=Strap-legs without bones. The “Old Man” is not an ourang-outang nor an Ifrít as in Sayf al-Mulúk, Night dcclxxi., but a jocose exaggeration of a custom prevailing in parts of Asia and especially in the African interior where the Tsetse-fly prevents the breeding of burden-beasts. Ibn Batútah tells us that in Malabar everything was borne upon men’s backs. In Central Africa the kinglet rides a slave, and on ceremonious occasions mounts his Prime Minister. I have often been reduced to this style of conveyance and found man the worst imaginable riding: there is no hold and the sharpness of the shoulder-ridge soon makes the legs ache intolerably. The classicists of course find the Shaykh of the Sea in the Tritons and Nereus, and Bochart (Hiero. ii. 858, 880) notices the homo aquaticus, Senex Judæus and Senex Marinus. Hole (p. 151) suggests the inevitable ouran-outan (man o’ wood), one of “our humiliating copyists,” and quotes “Destiny” in Scarron’s comical romance (Part ii. chapt. i) and “Jealousy” enfolding Rinaldo. (O.F. lib. 42).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:—
So I threw the devil off my shoulders, hardly crediting my deliverance from him and fearing lest he should shake off his drunkenness and do me a mischief. Then I took up a great stone from among the trees and coming up to him smote him therewith on the head with all my might and crushed in his skull as he lay dead drunk. Thereupon his flesh and fat and blood being in a pulp, he died and went to his deserts, The Fire, no mercy of Allah be upon him! I then returned, with a heart at ease, to my former station on the sea-shore and abode in that island many days, eating of its fruits and drinking of its waters and keeping a look-out for passing ships; till one day, as I sat on the beach, recalling all that had befallen me and saying, “I wonder if Allah will save me alive and restore me to my home and family and friends!” behold, a ship was making for the island through the dashing sea and clashing waves. Presently, it cast anchor and the passengers landed; so I made for them, and when they saw me all hastened up to me and gathering round me questioned me of my case and how I came thither. I told them all that had betided me, whereat they marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, “He who rode on thy shoulder is called the ‘Shaykh al-Bahr’ or Old Man of the Sea,1 and none ever felt his legs on neck and came off alive but thou; and those who die under him he eateth: so praised be Allah for thy safety!” Then they set somewhat of food before me, whereof I ate my fill, and gave me somewhat of clothes wherewith I clad myself anew and covered my nakedness; after which they took me up into the ship, and we sailed days and nights, till fate brought us to a place called the City of Apes, builded with lofty houses, all of which gave upon the sea and it had a single gate studded and strengthened with iron nails. Now every night, as soon as it is dusk the dwellers in this city use to come forth of the gates and, putting out to sea in boats and ships, pass the night upon the waters in their fear lest the apes should come down on them from the mountains. Hearing this I was sore troubled remembering what I had before suffered from the ape-kind. Presently I landed to solace myself in the city, but meanwhile the ship set sail without me and I repented of having gone ashore, and calling to mind my companions and what had befallen me with the apes, first and after, sat down and fell a-weeping and lamenting. Presently one of the townsfolk accosted me and said to me, “O my lord, meseemeth thou art a stranger to these parts?” “Yes,” answered I, “I am indeed a stranger and a poor one, who came hither in a ship which cast anchor here, and I landed to visit the town; but when I would have gone on board again, I found they had sailed without me.” Quoth he, “Come and embark with us, for if thou lie the night in the city, the apes will destroy thee.” “Hearkening and obedience,” replied I, and rising, straightway embarked with him in one of the boats, whereupon they pushed off from shore and anchoring a mile or so from the land, there passed the night. At daybreak, they rowed back to the city and landing, went each about his business. Thus they did every night, for if any tarried in the town by night the apes came down on him and slew him. As soon as it was day, the apes left the place and ate of the fruits of the gardens, then went back to the mountains and slept there till nightfall, when they again came down upon the city.2 Now this place was in the farthest part of the country of the blacks, and one of the strangest things that befel me during my sojourn in the city was on this wise. One of the company with whom I passed the night in the boat, asked me, “O my lord, thou art apparently a stranger in these parts; hast thou any craft whereat thou canst work?”; and I answered, “By Allah, O my brother, I have no trade nor know I any handicraft, for I was a merchant and a man of money and substance and had a ship of my own, laden with great store of goods and merchandise; but it foundered at sea and all were drowned excepting me who saved myself on a piece of plank which Allah vouchsafed to me of His favour.” Upon this he brought me a cotton bag and giving it to me, said, “Take this bag and fill it with pebbles from the beach and go forth with a company of the townsfolk to whom I will give a charge respecting thee. Do as they do and belike thou shalt gain what may further thy return voyage to thy native land.” Then he carried me to the beach, where I filled my bag with pebbles large and small, and presently we saw a company of folk issue from the town, each bearing a bag like mine, filled with pebbles. To these he committed me, commending me to their care, and saying, “This man is a stranger, so take him with you and teach him how to gather, that he may get his daily bread, and you will earn your reward and recompense in Heaven.” “On our head and eyes be it!” answered they and bidding me welcome, fared on with me till we came to a spacious Wady, full of lofty trees with trunks so smooth that none might climb them. Now sleeping under these trees were many apes, which when they saw us rose and fled from us and swarmed up among the branches; whereupon my companions began to pelt them with what they had in their bags, and the apes fell to plucking of the fruit of the trees and casting them at the folk. I looked at the fruits they cast at us and found them to be Indian3 or cocoa-nuts; so I chose out a great tree, full of apes, and going up to it, began to pelt them with stones, and they in return pelted me with nuts, which I collected, as did the rest; so that even before I had made an end of my bagful of pebbles, I had gotten great plenty of nuts; and as soon as my companions had in like manner gotten as many nuts as they could carry, we returned to the city, where we arrived at the fag-end of day. Then I went in to the kindly man who had brought me in company with the nut-gatherers and gave him all I had gotten, thanking him for his kindness; but he would not accept them, saying, “Sell them and make profit by the price; and presently he added (giving me the key of a closet in his house) “Store thy nuts in this safe place and go thou forth every morning and gather them as thou hast done to-day, and choose out the worst for sale and supplying thyself; but lay up the rest here, so haply thou mayst collect enough to serve thee for thy return home.” “Allah requite thee!” answered I and did as he advised me, going out daily with the cocoa-nut gatherers, who commended me to one another and showed me the best-stocked trees.4 Thus did I for some time, till I had laid up great store of excellent nuts, besides a large sum of money, the price of those I had sold. I became thus at my ease and bought all I saw and had a mind to, and passed my time pleasantly greatly enjoying my stay in the city, till, as I stood on the beach, one day, a great ship steering through the heart of the sea presently cast anchor by the shore and landed a company of merchants, who proceeded to sell and buy and barter their goods for cocoa-nuts and other commodities. Then I went to my friend and told him of the coming of the ship and how I had a mind to return to my own country; and he said, “’Tis for thee to decide.” So I thanked him for his bounties and took leave of him; then, going to the captain of the ship, I agreed with him for my passage and embarked my cocoa-nuts and what else I possessed. We weighed anchor — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 More literally “The Chief of the Sea (-Coast),” Shaykh being here a chief rather than an elder (eoldermann, alderman). So the “Old Man of the Mountain,” famous in crusading days, was the Chief who lived on the Nusayriyah or Ansári range, a northern prolongation of the Libanus. Our “old man” of the text may have been suggested by the Koranic commentators on chapt. vi. When an Infidel rises from the grave, a hideous figure meets him and says, “Why wonderest thou at my loathsomeness? I am thine Evil Deeds: thou didst ride upon me in the world and now I will ride upon thee.” (Suiting the action to the words.)
2 In parts of West Africa and especially in Gorilla-land there are many stories of women and children being carried off by apes, and all believe that the former bear issue to them. It is certain that the anthropoid ape is lustfully excited by the presence of women and I have related how at Cairo (1856) a huge cynocephalus would have raped a girl had it not been bayonetted. Young ladies who visited the Demidoff Gardens and menagerie at Florence were often scandalised by the vicious exposure of the baboons’ parti-coloured persons. The female monkey equally solicits the attentions of man and I heard in India from my late friend, Mirza Ali Akbar of Bombay, that to his knowledge connection had taken place. Whether there would be issue and whether such issue would be viable are still disputed points: the produce would add another difficulty to the pseudo-science called psychology, as such mule would have only half a soul and issue by a congener would have a quarter-soul. A traveller well known to me once proposed to breed pithecoid men who might be useful as hewers of wood and drawers of water: his idea was to put the highest races of apes to the lowest of humanity. I never heard what became of his “breeding stables.”
3 Arab. “Jauz al-Hindi”: our word cocoa is from the Port. “Coco,” meaning a “bug” (bugbear) in allusion to its caricature of the human face, hair, eyes and mouth. I may here note that a cocoa-tree is easily climbed with a bit of rope or a handkerchief.
4 Tomb-pictures in Egypt show tame monkeys gathering fruits and Grossier (Description of China, quoted by Hole and Lane) mentions a similar mode of harvesting tea by irritating the monkeys of the Middle Kingdom.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— So I left the City of the Apes and embarked my cocoa-nuts and what else I possessed. We weighed anchor the same day and sailed from island to island and sea to sea; and whenever we stopped, I sold and traded with my cocoa-nuts, and the Lord requited me more than I erst had and lost. Amongst other places, we came to an island abounding in cloves1 and cinnamon and pepper; and the country people told me that by the side of each pepper-bunch groweth a great leaf which shadeth it from the sun and casteth the water off it in the wet season; but, when the rain ceaseth the leaf turneth over and droopeth down by the side of the bunch.2 Here I took in great store of pepper and cloves and cinnamon, in exchange for cocoa-nuts, and we passed thence to the Island of Al–Usirat,3 whence cometh the Comorin aloes-wood and thence to another island, five days’ journey in length, where grows the Chinese lign-aloes, which is better than the Comorin; but the people of this island4 are fouler of condition and religion than those of the other, for that they love fornication and wine-bibbing, and know not prayer nor call to prayer. Thence we came to the pearl-fisheries, and I gave the divers some of my cocoa-nuts and said to them, “Dive for my luck and lot!” They did so and brought up from the deep bight5 great store of large and priceless pearls; and they said to me, “By Allah, O my master, thy luck is a lucky!” Then we sailed on, with the blessing of Allah (whose name be exalted!); and ceased not sailing till we arrived safely at Bassorah. There I abode a little and then went on to Baghdad, where I entered my quarter and found my house and foregathered with my family and saluted my friends who gave me joy of my safe return, and I laid up all my goods and valuables in my storehouses. Then I distributed alms and largesse and clothed the widow and the orphan and made presents to my relations and comrades; for the Lord had requited me fourfold that I had lost. After which I returned to my old merry way of life and forgot all I had suffered in the great profit and gain I had made. “Such, then, is the history of my fifth voyage and its wonderments, and now to supper; and to-morrow, come again and I will tell you what befel me in my sixth voyage; for it was still more wonderful than this.” (Saith he who telleth the tale), Then he called for food; and the servants spread the table, and when they had eaten the evening-meal, he bade give Sindbad the porter an hundred golden dinars and the Landsman returned home and lay him down to sleep, much marvelling at all he had heard. Next morning, as soon as it was light, he prayed the dawn-prayer; and, after blessing Mohammed the Cream of all creatures, betook himself to the house of Sindbad the Seaman and wished him a good day. The merchant bade him sit and talked with him, till the rest of the company arrived. Then the servants spread the table and when they had well eaten and drunken and were mirthful and merry, Sindbad the Seaman began in these words the narrative of
1 Bresl. Edit. Cloves and cinnamon in those days grew in widely distant places.
2 In pepper-plantations it is usual to set bananas (Musa Paradisiaca) for shading the young shrubs which bear bunches like ivy-fruit, not pods.
3 The Bresl. Edit. has “Al–Ma’arat.” Langlès calls it the Island of Al–Kamárí. See Lane, iii. 86.
4 Insula, pro. peninsula. “Comorin” is a corrupt. of “Kanyá” (=Virgo, the goddess Durgá) and “Kumári” (a maid, a princess); from a temple of Shiva’s wife: hence Ptolemy’s {Greek letters} and near it to the N. East {Greek letters}, “Promontorium Cori quod Comorini caput insulæ vocant,” says Maffæus (Hist. Indic. i. p. 16). In the text “Al’úd” refers to the eagle-wood (Aloekylon Agallochum) so called because spotted like the bird’s plume. That of Champa (Cochin–China, mentioned in Camoens, The Lus. x. 129) is still famous.
5 Arab. “Birkat”=tank, pool, reach, bight. Hence Birkat Far’aun in the Suez Gulf. (Pilgrimage i. 297.)
Know, O my brothers and friends and companions all, that I abode some time, after my return from my fifth voyage, in great solace and satisfaction and mirth and merriment, joyance and enjoyment; and I forgot what I had suffered, seeing the great gain and profit I had made till, one day, as I sat making merry and enjoying myself with my friends, there came in to me a company of merchants whose case told tales of travel, and talked with me of voyage and adventure and greatness of pelf and lucre. Hereupon I remembered the days of my return from abroad, and my joy at once more seeing my native land and foregathering with my family and friends; and my soul yearned for travel and traffic. So compelled by Fate and Fortune I resolved to undertake another voyage; and, buying me fine and costly merchandise meet for foreign trade, made it up into bales, with which I journeyed from Baghdad to Bassorah. Here I found a great ship ready for sea and full of merchants and notables, who had with them goods of price; so I embarked my bales therein. And we left Bassorah in safety and good spirits under the safeguard of the King, the Preserver. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— And after embarking my bales and leaving Bassorah in safety and good spirits, we continued our voyage from place to place and from city to city, buying and selling and profiting and diverting ourselves with the sight of countries where strange folk dwell. And Fortune and the voyage smiled upon us, till one day, as we went along, behold, the captain suddenly cried with a great cry and cast his turband on the deck. Then he buffeted his face like a woman and plucked out his beard and fell down in the waist of the ship will nigh fainting for stress of grief and rage, and crying, “Oh and alas for the ruin of my house and the orphanship of my poor children!” So all the merchant and sailors came round about him and asked him, “O master, what is the matter?”; for the light had become night before their sight. And he answered, saying, “Know, O folk, that we have wandered from our course and left the sea whose ways we wot, and come into a sea whose ways I know not; and unless Allah vouchsafe us a means of escape, we are all dead men; wherefore pray ye to the Most High, that He deliver us from this strait. Haply amongst you is one righteous whose prayers the Lord will accept.” Then he arose and clomb the mast to see an there were any escape from that strait; and he would have loosed the sails; but the wind redoubled upon the ship and whirled her round thrice and drave her backwards; whereupon her rudder brake and she fell off towards a high mountain. With this the captain came down from the mast, saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great; nor can man prevent that which is fore-ordained of fate! By Allah, we are fallen on a place of sure destruction, and there is no way of escape for us, nor can any of us be saved!” Then we all fell a-weeping over ourselves and bidding one another farewell for that our days were come to an end, and we had lost all hopes of life. Presently the ship struck the mountain and broke up, and all and everything on board of her were plunged into the sea. Some of the merchants were drowned and others made shift to reach the shore and save themselves upon the mountain; I amongst the number, and when we got ashore, we found a great island, or rather peninsula1 whose base was strewn with wreckage of crafts and goods and gear cast up by the sea from broken ships whose passengers had been drowned; and the quantity confounded compt and calculation. So I climbed the cliffs into the inward of the isle and walked on inland, till I came to a stream of sweet water, that welled up at the nearest foot of the mountains and disappeared in the earth under the range of hills on the opposite side. But all the other passengers went over the mountains to the inner tracts; and, dispersing hither and thither, were confounded at what they saw and became like madmen at the sight of the wealth and treasures wherewith the shores were strewn. As for me I looked into the bed of the stream aforesaid and saw therein great plenty of rubies, and great royal pearls2 and all kinds of jewels and precious stones which were as gravel in the bed of the rivulets that ran through the fields, and the sands sparkled and glittered with gems and precious ores. Moreover we found in the island abundance of the finest lign-aloes, both Chinese and Comorin; and there also is a spring of crude ambergris3 which floweth like wax or gum over the stream-banks, for the great heat of the sun, and runneth down to the sea-shore, where the monsters of the deep come up and swallowing it, return into the sea. But it burneth in their bellies; so they cast it up again and it congealeth on the surface of the water, whereby its color and quantities are changed; and at last, the waves cast it ashore, and the travellers and merchants who know it, collect it and sell it. But as to the raw ambergris which is not swallowed, it floweth over the channel and congealeth on the banks and when the sun shineth on it, it melteth and scenteth the whole valley with a musk-like fragrance: then, when the sun ceaseth from it, it congealeth again. But none can get to this place where is the crude ambergris, because of the mountains which enclose the island on all sides and which foot of man cannot ascend.4 We continued thus to explore the island, marvelling at the wonderful works of Allah and the riches we found there, but sore troubled for our own case, and dismayed at our prospects. Now we had picked up on the beach some small matter of victual from the wreck and husbanded it carefully, eating but once every day or two, in our fear lest it should fail us and we die miserably of famine or affright. Moreover, we were weak for colic brought on by sea-sickness and low diet, and my companions deceased, one after other, till there was but a small company of us left. Each that died we washed and shrouded in some of the clothes and linen cast ashore by the tides; and after a little, the rest of my fellows perished, one by one, till I had buried the last of the party and abode alone on the island, with but a little provision left, I who was wont to have so much. And I wept over myself, saying, “Would Heaven I had died before my companions and they had washed and buried me! It had been better than I should perish and none wash me and shroud me and bury me. But there is Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Probably Cape Comorin; to judge from the river, but the text names Sarandib (Ceylon Island) famous for gems. This was noticed by Marco Polo, iii. cap. 19; and ancient authors relate the same of “Taprobane.”
2 I need hardly trouble the reader with a note on pearl- fisheries: the descriptions of travellers are continuous from the days of Pliny (ix. 35), Solinus (cap. 56) and Marco Polo (iii. 23). Maximilian of Transylvania, in his narrative of Magellan’s voyage (Novus Orbis, p. 532) says that the Celebes produce pearls big as turtle-doves’ eggs; and the King of Porne (Borneo) had two unions as great as goose’s eggs. Pigafetta (in Purchas) reduces this to hen’s eggs and Sir Thomas Herbert to dove’s eggs.
3 Arab. “Anbar” pronounced “Ambar;” wherein I would derive “Ambrosia.” Ambergris was long supposed to be a fossil, a vegetable which grew upon the sea-bottom or rose in springs; or a “substance produced in the water like naphtha or bitumen”(!): now it is known to be the egesta of a whale. It is found in lumps weighing several pounds upon the Zanzibar Coast and is sold at a high price, being held a potent aphrodisiac. A small hollow is drilled in the bottom of the cup and the coffee is poured upon the bit of ambergris it contains; when the oleaginous matter shows in dots amidst the “Kaymagh” (coffee-cream), the bubbly froth which floats upon the surface and which an expert “coffee servant” distributes equally among the guests. Argensola mentions in Ceylon, “springs of liquid bitumen thicker than our oil and some of pure balsam.”
4 The tale-teller forgets that Sindbad and his companions have just ascended it; but this inconséquence is a characteristic of the Eastern Saga. I may note that the description of ambergris in the text tells us admirably well what it is not.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued in these words:— Now after I had buried the last of my party and abode alone on the island, I arose and dug me a deep grave on the sea-shore, saying to myself, “Whenas I grow weak and know that death cometh to me, I will cast myself into the grave and die there, so the wind may drift the sand over me and cover me and I be buried therein.”1 Then I fell to reproaching myself for my little wit in leaving my native land and betaking me again to travel, after all I had suffered during my first five voyages, and when I had not made a single one without suffering more horrible perils and more terrible hardships than in its forerunner and having no hope of escape from my present stress; and I repented me of my folly and bemoaned myself, especially as I had no need of money, seeing that I had enough and more than enough and could not spend what I had, no, nor a half of it in all my life. However, after a while Allah sent me a thought and I said to myself, “By God, needs must this stream have an end as well as a beginning; ergo an issue somewhere, and belike its course may lead to some inhabited place; so my best plan is to make me a little boat2 big enough to sit in, and carry it and launching it on the river, embark therein and drop down the stream. If I escape, I escape, by God’s leave; and if I perish, better die in the river than here.” Then, sighing for myself, I set to work collecting a number of pieces of Chinese and Comorin aloes-wood and I bound them together with ropes from the wreckage; then I chose out from the broken-up ships straight planks of even size and fixed them firmly upon the aloes-wood, making me a boat-raft a little narrower than the channel of the stream; and I tied it tightly and firmly as though it were nailed. Then I loaded it with the goods, precious ores and jewels: and the union pearls which were like gravel and the best of the ambergris crude and pure, together with what I had collected on the island and what was left me of victual and wild herbs. Lastly I lashed a piece of wood on either side, to serve me as oars; and launched it, and embarking, did according to the saying of the poet,
“Fly, fly with life whenas evils threat;
Leave the house to tell of its builder’s fate!
Land after land shalt thou seek and find
But no other life on thy wish shall wait:
Fret not thy soul in thy thoughts o’ night;
All woes shall end or sooner or late.
Whoso is born in one land to die,
There and only there shall gang his gait:
Nor trust great things to another wight,
Soul hath only soul for confederate.”3
My boat-raft drifted with the stream, I pondering the issue of my affair; and the drifting ceased not till I came to the place where it disappeared beneath the mountain. I rowed my conveyance into the place which was intensely dark; and the current carried the raft with it down the underground channel.4 The thin stream bore me on through a narrow tunnel where the raft touched either side and my head rubbed against the roof, return therefrom being impossible. Then I blamed myself for having thus risked my life, and said, “If this passage grow any straiter, the raft will hardly pass, and I cannot turn back; so I shall inevitably perish miserably in this place.” And I threw myself down upon my face on the raft, by reason of the narrowness of the channel, whilst the stream ceased not to carry me along, knowing not night from day, for the excess of the gloom which encompassed me about and my terror and concern for myself lest I should perish. And in such condition my course continued down the channel which now grew wide and then straiter till, sore aweary by reason of the darkness which could be felt, I fell asleep, as I lay prone on the raft, and I slept knowing not an the time were long or short. When I awoke at last, I found myself in the light of Heaven and opening my eyes I saw myself in a broad stream and the raft moored to an island in the midst of a number of Indians and Abyssinians. As soon as these blackamoors5 saw that I was awake, they came up to me and bespoke me in their speech; but I understood not what they said and thought that this was a dream and a vision which had betided me for stress of concern and chagrin. But I was delighted at my escape from the river. When they saw I understood them not and made them no answer, one of them came forward and said to me in Arabic, “Peace be with thee, O my brother! Who art thou and whence faredst thou thither? How camest thou into this river and what manner of land lies behind yonder mountains, for never knew we any one make his way thence to us?” Quoth I, “And upon thee be peace and the ruth of Allah and his blessing! Who are ye and what country is this?” “O my brother,” answered he, “we are husbandmen and tillers of the soil, who came out to water our fields and plantations; and, finding thee asleep on this raft, laid hold of it and made it fast by us, against thou shouldst awake at thy leisure. So tell us how thou camest hither?” I answered, “For Allah’s sake, O my lord, ere I speak give me somewhat to eat, for I am starving, and after ask me what thou wilt.” So he hastened to fetch me food and I ate my fill, till I was refreshed and my fear was calmed by a good belly-full and my life returned to me. Then I rendered thanks to the Most High for mercies great and small, glad to be out of the river and rejoicing to be amongst them, and I told them all my adventures from first to last, especially my troubles in the narrow channel. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This custom is alluded to by Lane (Mod Egypt, ch. xv.): it is the rule of pilgrims to Meccah when too ill to walk or ride (Pilgrimage i. 180). Hence all men carry their shrouds: mine, after being dipped in the Holy Water of Zemzem, was stolen from me by the rascally Somal of Berberah.
2 Arab. “Fulk;” some Edits. read “Kalak” and “Ramaz” (=a raft).
3 These lines occur in modified form in Night xi.
4 These underground rivers (which Dr. Livingstone derided) are familiar to every geographer from Spenser’s “Mole” to the Poika of Adelberg and the Timavo near Trieste. Hence “Peter Wilkins” borrowed his cavern which let him to Grandevolet. I have some experience of Sindbad’s sorrows, having once attempted to descend the Poika on foot. The Classics had the Alpheus (Pliny v. 31; and Seneca, Nat. Quae. vi.), and the Tigris–Euphrates supposed to flow underground: and the Mediævals knew the Abana of Damascus and the Zenderúd of Isfahan.
5 Abyssinians can hardly be called “blackamoors,” but the arrogance of the white skin shows itself in Easterns (e.g. Turks and Brahmans) as much as, if not more than, amongst Europeans. Southern India at the time it was explored by Vasco da Gama was crowded with Abyssinian slaves imported by the Arabs.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— When I landed and found myself amongst the Indians and Abyssinians and had taken some rest, they consulted among themselves and said to one another, “There is no help for it but we carry him with us and present him to our King, that he may acquaint him with his adventures.” So they took me, together with the raft-boat and its lading of monies and merchandise; jewels, minerals and golden gear, and brought me to their King, who was King of Sarandib,1 telling him what had happened; whereupon he saluted me and bade me welcome. Then he questioned me of my condition and adventures through the man who had spoken Arabic and I repeated to him my story from beginning to end, whereat he marvelled exceedingly and gave me joy of my deliverance; after which I arose and fetched from the raft great store of precious ores and jewels and ambergris and lign-aloes and presented them to the King, who accepted them and entreated me with the utmost honour, appointing me a lodging in his own palace. So I consorted with the chief of the islanders, and they paid me the utmost respect. And I quitted not the royal palace. Now the Island Sarandib lieth under the equinoctial line, its night and day both numbering twelve house. It measureth eighty leagues long by a breadth of thirty and its wideth is bounded by a lofty mountain2 and a deep valley, The mountain is conspicuous from a distance of three days and it containeth many kinds of rubies and other minerals, and spice-trees of all sorts. The surface is covered with emery wherewith gems are cut and fashioned; diamonds are in its rivers and pearls are in its valleys. I ascended that mountain and solaced myself with a view of its marvels which are indescribable and afterwards I returned to the King.3 Thereupon, all the travellers and merchants who came to the place questioned me of the affairs of my native land and of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid and his rule and I told them of him and of that wherefor he was renowned, and they praised him because of this; whilst I in turn questioned them of the manners and customers of their own countries and got the knowledge I desired. One day, the King himself asked me of the fashions and form of government of my country, and I acquainted him with the circumstance of the Caliph’s sway in the city of Baghdad and the justice of his rule. The King marvelled at my account of his appointments and said, “By Allah, the Caliph’s ordinances are indeed wise and his fashions of praiseworthy guise and thou hast made me love him by what thou tellest me; wherefore I have a mind to make him a present and send it by thee.” Quoth I, “Hearkening and obedience, O my lord; I will bear thy gift to him and inform him that thou art his sincere lover and true friend.” Then I abode with the King in great honour and regard and consideration for a long while till, one day, as I sat in his palace, I heard news of a company of merchants, that were fitting out a ship for Bassorah, and said to myself, “I cannot do better than voyage with these men.” So I rose without stay or delay and kissed the King’s hand and acquainted him with my longing to set out with the merchants, for that I pined after my people and mine own land. Quoth he, “Thou art thine own master; yet, if it be thy will to abide with us, on our head and eyes be it, for thou gladdenest us with thy company.” “By Allah, O my lord,” answered I, “thou hast indeed overwhelmed me with thy favours and well-doings; but I weary for a sight of my friends and family and native country.” When he heard this, he summoned the merchants in question and commended me to their care, paying my freight and passage-money. Then he bestowed on me great riches from his treasuries and charged me with a magnificent present for the Caliph Harun al-Rashid. Moreover he gave me a sealed letter, saying, “Carry this with thine own hand to the Commander of the Faithful and give him many salutations from us!” “Hearing and obedience,” I replied. The missive was written on the skin of the Kháwi4 (which is finer than lamb-parchment and of yellow colour), with ink of ultramarine and the contents were as follows. “Peace be with thee from the King of Al–Hind, before whom are a thousand elephants and upon whose palace-crenelles are a thousand jewels. But after (laud to the Lord and praises to His Prophet!): we send thee a trifling gift which be thou pleased to accept. Thou art to us a brother and a sincere friend; and great is the love we bear for thee in heart; favour us therefore with a reply. The gift besitteth not thy dignity: but we beg of thee, O our brother, graciously to accept it and peace be with thee.” And the present was a cup of ruby a span high5 the inside of which was adorned with precious pearls; and a bed covered with the skin of the serpent which swalloweth the elephant, which skin hath spots each like a dinar and whoso sitteth upon it never sickeneth;6 and an hundred thousand miskals of Indian lign-aloes and a slave-girl like a shining moon. Then I took leave of him and of all my intimates and acquaintances in the island and embarked with the merchants aforesaid. We sailed with a fair wind, committing ourselves to the care of Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) and by His permission arrived at Bassorah, where I passed a few days and nights equipping myself and packing up my bales. Then I went on to Baghdad-city, the House of Peace, where I sought an audience of the Caliph and laid the King’s presents before him. He asked me whence they came and I said to him, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I know not the name of the city nor the way thither!” He then asked me, “O Sindbad, is this true which the King writeth?”; and I answered, after kissing the ground, “O my lord, I saw in his kingdom much more than he hath written in his letter. For state processions a throne is set for him upon a huge elephant, eleven cubits high: and upon this he sitteth having his great lords and officers and guests standing in two ranks, on his right hand and on his left. At his head is a man hending in hand a golden javelin and behind him another with a great mace of gold whose head is an emerald7 a span long and as thick as a man’s thumb. And when he mounteth horse there mount with him a thousand horsemen clad in gold brocade and silk; and as the King proceedeth a man precedeth him, crying, ‘This is the King of great dignity, of high authority!’ And he continueth to repeat his praises in words I remember not, saying at the end of his panegyric, ‘This is the King owning the crown whose like nor Solomon nor the Mihraj8 ever possessed.’ Then he is silent and one behind him proclaimeth, saying, ‘He will die! Again I say he will die!;’ and the other addeth, ‘Extolled be the perfection of the Living who dieth not!’9 Moreover by reason of his justice and ordinance and intelligence, there is no Kazi in his city, and all his lieges distinguish between Truth and Falsehood.” Quoth the Caliph, “How great is this King! His letter hath shown me this; and as for the mightiness of his dominion thou hast told us what thou hast eye-witnessed. By Allah, he hath been endowed with wisdom as with wide rule.” Then I related to the Commander of the Faithful all that had befallen me in my last voyage; at which he wondered exceedingly and bade his historians record my story and store it up in his treasuries, for the edification of all who might see it. Then he conferred on me exceeding great favours, and I repaired to my quarter and entered my home, where I warehoused all my goods and possessions. Presently, my friends came to me and I distributed presents among my family and gave alms and largesse; after which I yielded myself to joyance and enjoyment, mirth and merry-making, and forgot all that I had suffered. “Such, then, O my brothers, is the history of what befel me in my sixth voyage, and to-morrow, Inshallah! I will tell you the story of my seventh and last voyage, which is still more wondrous and marvellous than that of the first six.” (Saith he who telleth the tale), Then he bade lay the table, and the company supped with him; after which he gave the Porter an hundred dinars, as of wont, and they all went their ways, marvelling beyond measure at that which they had heard. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 “Sarandib” and “Ceylon” (the Taprobane of Ptolemy and Diodorus Siculus) derive from the Pali “Sihalam” (not the Sansk. “Sinhala”) shortened to Silam and Ilam in old Tamul. Van der Tunk would find it in the Malay “Pulo Selam”=Isle of Gems (the Ratna- dwípa or Jewel Isle of the Hindus and the Jazirat al-Yakút or Ruby–Island of the Arabs); and the learned Colonel Yule (Marco Polo ii 296) remarks that we have adopted many Malayan names, e.g. Pegu, China and Japan. Sarandib is clearly “Selan-dwípa,” which Mandeville reduced to “Silha.”
2 This is the well-known Adam’s Peak, the Jabal al-Ramun of the Arabs where Adam fell when cast out of Eden in the lowest or lunar sphere. Eve fell at Jeddah (a modern myth) and the unhappy pair met at Mount Arafat (i.e. recognition) near Meccah. Thus their fall was a fall indeed. (Pilgrimage iii. 259.)
3 He is the Alcinous of our Arabian Odyssey.
4 This word is not in the dictionaries; Hole (p. 192) and Lane understand it to mean the hog-deer; but why, one cannot imagine. The animal is neither “beautiful” nor “uncommon” and most men of my day have shot dozens in the Sind–Shikárgahs.
5 M. Polo speaks of a ruby in Seilan (Ceylon) a palm long and three fingers thick: William of Tyre mentions a ruby weighing twelve Egyptian drams (Gibbon ii. 123), and Mandeville makes the King of Mammera wear about his neck a “rubye orient” one foot long by five fingers large.
6 The fable is from Al–Kazwini and Ibn Al–Wardi who place the serpent (an animal sacred to Æsculapius, Pliny, xxix. 4) “in the sea of Zanj” (i.e. Zanzibar). In the “garrow hills” of N. Eastern Bengal the skin of the snake Burrawar (?) is held to cure pain. (Asiat. Res. vol. iii.)
7 For “Emerald,” Hole (p. 177) would read emery or adamantine spar.
8 Evidently Maháráj=Great Rajah, Rajah in Chief, an Hindu title common to the three potentates before alluded to, the Narsinga, Balhara or Samiry.
9 This is probably classical. So the page said to Philip of Macedon every morning, “Remember, Philip, thou art mortal”; also the slave in the Roman Triumph,
“Respice poste te: hominem te esse memento!”
And the dying Severus, “Urnlet, soon shalt thou enclose what hardly a whole world could contain.” But the custom may also have been Indian: the contrast of external pomp with the real vanity of human life suggests itself to all.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sindbad the Seaman had related the history of what befel him in his sixth voyage, and all the company had dispersed, Sindbad the Landsman went home and slept as of wont. Next day he rose and prayed the dawn-prayer and repaired to his namesake’s house where, after the company was all assembled, the host began to relate
Know, O company, that after my return from my sixth voyage, which brought me abundant profit, I resumed my former life in all possible joyance and enjoyment and mirth and making merry day and night; and I tarried some time in this solace and satisfaction till my soul began once more to long to sail the seas and see foreign countries and company with merchants and hear new things. So having made up my mind, I packed up in bales a quantity of precious stuffs suited for sea-trade and repaired with them from Baghdad-city to Bassorah-town, where I found a ship ready for sea, and in her a company of considerable merchants. I shipped with them and becoming friends, we set forth on our venture, in health and safety; and sailed with a fair wind, till we came to a city called Madínat-al-Sín; but after we had left it, as we fared on in all cheer and confidence, devising of traffic and travel, behold, there sprang up a violent head-wind and a tempest of rain fell on us and drenched us and our goods. So we covered the bales with our cloaks and garments and drugget and canvas, lest they be spoiled by the rain, and betook ourselves to prayer and supplication to Almighty Allah and humbled ourselves before Him for deliverance from the peril that was upon us. But the captain arose and tightening his girdle tucked up his skirts and, after taking refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned, clomb to the mast-head, whence he looked out right and left and gazing at the passengers and crew fell to buffeting his face and plucking out his beard. So we cried to him, “O Rais, what is the matter?”; and he replied saying, “Seek ye deliverance of the Most High from the strait into which we have fallen and bemoan yourselves and take leave of one another; for know that the wind hath gotten the mastery of us and hath driven us into the uttermost of the seas of the world.” Then he came down from the mast-head and opening his sea-chest, pulled out a bag of blue cotton, from which he took a powder like ashes. This he set in a saucer wetted with a little water and, after waiting a short time, smelt and tasted it; and then he took out of the chest a booklet, wherein he read awhile and said weeping, “Know, O ye passengers, that in this book is a marvellous matter, denoting that whoso cometh hither shall surely die, without hope of escape; for that this ocean is called the Sea of the Clime of the King, wherein is the sepulchre of our lord Solomon, son of David (on both be peace!) and therein are serpents of vast bulk and fearsome aspect: and what ship soever cometh to these climes there riseth to her a great fish1 out of the sea and swalloweth her up with all and everything on board her.” Hearing these words from the captain great was our wonder, but hardly had he made an end of speaking, when the ship was lifted out of the water and let fall again and we applied to praying the death-prayer2 and committing our souls to Allah. Presently we heard a terrible great cry like the loud-pealing thunder, whereat we were terror-struck and became as dead men, giving ourselves up for lost. Then behold, there came up to us a huge fish, as big as a tall mountain, at whose sight we became wild for affight and, weeping sore, made ready for death, marvelling at its vast size and gruesome semblance; when lo! a second fish made its appearance than which we had seen naught more monstrous. So we bemoaned ourselves of our lives and farewelled one another; but suddenly up came a third fish bigger than the two first; whereupon we lost the power of thought and reason and were stupefied for the excess of our fear and horror. Then the three fish began circling round about the ship and the third and biggest opened his mouth to swallow it, and we looked into its mouth and behold, it was wider than the gate of a city and its throat was like a long valley. So we besought the Almighty and called for succour upon His Apostle (on whom be blessing and peace!), when suddenly a violent squall of wind arose and smote the ship, which rose out of the water and settled upon a great reef, the haunt of sea-monsters, where it broke up and fell asunder into planks and all and everything on board were plunged into the sea. As for me, I tore off all my clothes but my gown and swam a little way, till I happened upon one of the ship’s planks whereto I clung and bestrode it like a horse, whilst the winds and the waters sported with me and the waves carried me up and cast me down; and I was in most piteous plight for fear and distress and hunger and thirst. Then I reproached myself for what I had done and my soul was weary after a life of ease and comfort; and I said to myself, “O Sindbad, O Seaman, thou repentest not and yet thou art ever suffering hardships and travails; yet wilt thou not renounce sea-travel; or, an thou say, ‘I renounce,’ thou liest in thy renouncement. Endure then with patience that which thou sufferest, for verily thou deservest all that betideth thee!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued:— But when I had bestridden the plank, quoth I to myself, “Thou deservest all that betideth thee. All this is decreed to me of Allah (whose name be exalted!), to turn me from my greed of gain, whence ariseth all that I endure, for I have wealth galore.” Then I returned to my senses and said, “In very sooth, this time I repent to the Most High, with a sincere repentance, of my lust for gain and venture; and never will I again name travel with tongue nor in thought.” And I ceased not to humble myself before Almighty Allah and weep and bewail myself, recalling my former estate of solace and satisfaction and mirth and merriment and joyance; and thus I abode two days, at the end of which time I came to a great island abounding in trees and streams. There I landed and ate of the fruits of the island and drank of its waters, till I was refreshed and my life returned to me and my strength and spirits were restored and I recited,
“Oft when thy case shows knotty and tangled skein,
Fate downs from Heaven and straightens every ply:
In patience keep thy soul till clear thy lot
For He who ties the knot can eke untie.”
Then I walked about, till I found on the further side, a great river of sweet water, running with a strong current; whereupon I called to mind the boat-raft I had made aforetime and said to myself, “Needs must I make another; haply I may free me from this strait. If I escape, I have my desire and I vow to Allah Almighty to foreswear travel; and if I perish I shall be at peace and shall rest from toil and moil.” So I rose up and gathered together great store of pieces of wood from the trees (which were all of the finest sanders-wood, whose like is not albe I knew it not), and made shift to twist creepers and tree-twigs into a kind of rope, with which I bound the billets together and so contrived a raft. Then saying, “An I be saved, ’tis of God’s grace,” I embarked thereon and committed myself to the current, and it bore me on for the first day and the second and the third after leaving the island; whilst I lay in the raft, eating not and drinking, when I was athirst, of the water of the river, till I was weak and giddy as a chicken, for stress of fatigue and famine and fear. At the end of this time I came to a high mountain, whereunder ran the river; which when I saw, I feared for my life by reason of the straitness I had suffered in my former journey, and I would fain have stayed the raft and landed on the mountain-side; but the current overpowered me and drew it into the subterranean passage like an archway; whereupon I gave myself up for lost and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” However, after a little, the raft glided into open air and I saw before me a wide valley, whereinto the river fell with a noise like the rolling of thunder and a swiftness as the rushing of the wind. I held on to the raft, for fear of falling off it, whilst the waves tossed me right and left; and the craft continued to descend with the current nor could I avail to stop it nor turn it shorewards, till it stopped with me at a great and goodly city, grandly edified and containing much people. And when the townsfolk saw me on the raft, dropping down with the current, they threw me out ropes which I had not strength enough to hold; then they tossed a net over the craft and drew it ashore with me, whereupon I fell to the ground amidst them, as I were a dead man, for stress of fear and hunger and lack of sleep. After awhile, there came up to me out of the crowd an old man of reverend aspect, well stricken in years, who welcomed me and threw over me abundance of handsome clothes, wherewith I covered my nakedness. Then he carried me to the Hammam-bath and brought me cordial sherbets and delicious perfumes; moreover, when I came out, he bore me to his house, where his people made much of me and, seating me in a pleasant place, set rich food before me, whereof I ate my fill and returned thanks to God the Most High for my deliverance. Thereupon his pages fetched me hot water, and I washed my hands, and his handmaids brought me silken napkins, with which I dried them and wiped my mouth. Also the Shaykh set apart for me an apartment in a part of his house and charged his pages and slave- girls to wait upon me and do my will and supply my wants. They were assiduous in my service, and I abode with him in the guest-chamber three days, taking my ease of good eating and good drinking and good scents till life returned to me and my terrors subsided and my heart was calmed and my mind was eased. On the fourth day the Shaykh, my host, came in to me and said, “Thou cheerest us with thy company, O my son, and praised be Allah for thy safety! Say: wilt thou now come down with me to the beach and the bazar and sell thy goods and take their price? Belike thou mayst buy thee wherewithal to traffic. I have ordered my servants to remove thy stock-in-trade from the sea and they have piled it on the shore.” I was silent awhile and said to myself, “What mean these words and what goods have I?” Then said he, “O my son, be not troubled nor careful, but come with me to the market and if any offer for thy goods what price contenteth thee, take it; but, an thou be not satisfied, I will lay them up for thee in my warehouse, against a fitting occasion for sale.” So I bethought me of my case and said to myself, “Do his bidding and see what are these goods!”; and I said to him, “O my nuncle the Shaykh, I hear and I obey; I may not gainsay thee in aught for Allah’s blessing is on all thou dost.” Accordingly he guided me to the market-street, where I found that he had taken in pieces the raft which carried me and which was of sandal-wood and I heard the broker calling it for sale. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman thus resumed his tale:— I found that the Shaykh had taken to pieces my raft which lay on the beach and the broker was crying the sandal-wood for sale. Then the merchants came and opened the gate of bidding for the wood and bid against one another till its price reached a thousand dinars, when they left bidding and my host said to me, “Hear, O my son, this is the current price of thy goods in hard times like these: wilt thou sell them for this or shall I lay them up for thee in my storehouses, till such time as prices rise?” “O my lord,” answered I, “the business is in thy hands: do as thou wilt.” Then asked he, “Wilt thou sell the wood to me, O my son, for an hundred gold pieces over and above what the merchants have bidden for it?” and I answered, “Yes, I have sold it to thee for monies received.”1 So, he bade his servants transport the wood to his storehouses and, carrying me back to his house, seated me and counted out to me the purchase money; after which he laid it in bags and setting them in a privy place, locked them up with an iron padlock and gave me its key. Some days after this, the Shaykh said to me, “O my son, I have somewhat to propose to thee, wherein I trust thou wilt do my bidding.” Quoth I, “What is it?” Quoth he, “I am a very old man and have no son; but I have a daughter who is young in years and fair of favour and endowed with abounding wealth and beauty. Now I have a mind to marry her to thee, that thou mayst abide with her in this our country, and I will make thee master of all I have in hand for I am an old man and thou shalt stand in my stead.” I was silent for shame and made him no answer, whereupon he continued, “Do my desire in this, O my son, for I wish but thy weal; and if thou wilt but do as I say, thou shalt have her at once and be as my son; and all that is under my hand or that cometh to me shall be thine. If thou have a mind to traffic and travel to thy native land, none shall hinder thee, and thy property will be at thy sole disposal; so do as thou wilt.” “By Allah, O my uncle,” replied I, “thou art become to me even as my father, and I am a stranger and have undergone many hardships: while for stress of that which I have suffered naught of judgment or knowledge is left to me. It is for thee, therefore, to decide what I shall do.” Hereupon he sent his servants for the Kazi and the witnesses and married me to his daughter making us for a noble marriage-feast2 and high festival. When I went in to her, I found her perfect in beauty and loveliness and symmetry and grace, clad in rich raiment and covered with a profusion of ornaments and necklaces and other trinkets of gold and silver and precious stones, worth a mint of money, a price none could pay. She pleased me and we loved each other; and I abode with her in solace and delight of life, till her father was taken to the mercy of Allah Almighty. So we shrouded him and buried him, and I laid hands on the whole of his property and all his servants and slaves became mine. Moreover, the merchants installed me in his office, for he was their Shaykh and their Chief; and none of them purchased aught but with his knowledge and by his leave. And now his rank passed on to me. When I became acquainted with the townsfolk, I found that at the beginning of each month they were transformed, in that their faces changed and they became like birds and they put forth wings wherewith they flew unto the upper regions of the firmament and none remained in the city save the women and children; and I said in my mind, “When the first of the month cometh, I will ask one of them to carry me with them, whither they go.” So when the time came and their complexion changed and their forms altered, I went in to one of the townsfolk and said to him, “Allah upon thee! carry me with thee, that I might divert myself with the rest and return with you.” “This may not be,” answered he; but I ceased not to solicit him and I importuned him till he consented. Then I went out in his company, without telling any of my family3 or servants or friends, and he took me on his back and flew up with me so high in air, that I heard the angels glorifying God in the heavenly dome, whereat I wondered and exclaimed, “Praised be Allah! Extolled be the perfection of Allah!” Hardly had I made an end of pronouncing the Tasbih — praised be Allah! — when there came out a fire from heaven and all but consumed the company; whereupon they fled from it and descended with curses upon me and, casting me down on a high mountain, went away, exceeding wroth with me, and left me there alone. As I found myself in this plight, I repented of what I had done and reproached myself for having undertaken that for which I was unable, saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! No sooner am I delivered from one affliction than I fall into a worse.” And I continued in this case knowing not whither I should go, when lo! there came up two young men, as they were moons, each using as a staff a rod of red gold. So I approached them and saluted them; and when they returned my salam, I said to them, “Allah upon you twain; who are ye and what are ye?” Quoth they, “We are of the servants of the Most High Allah, abiding in this mountain;” and, giving me a rod of red gold they had with them, went their ways and left me. I walked on along the mountain-ridge staying my steps with the staff and pondering the case of the two youths, when behold, a serpent came forth from under the mountain, with a man in her4 jaws, whom she had swallowed even to below his navel, and he was crying out and saying, “Whoso delivereth me, Allah will deliver him from all adversity!” So I went up to the serpent and smote her on the head with the golden staff, whereupon she cast the man forth of her mouth. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This is the recognised formula of Moslem sales.
2 Arab. “Walímah”; like our wedding-breakfast but a much more ceremonious and important affair.
3 i.e. his wife (euphemistically). I remember an Italian lady being much hurt when a Maltese said to her “Mia moglie – con rispetto parlando” (my wife, saving your presence). “What,” she cried, “he speaks of his wife as he would of the sweepings!”
4 The serpent in Arabic is mostly feminine.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman thus continued:—
When I smote the serpent on the head with my golden staff she cast the man forth of her mouth. Then I smote her a second time, and she turned and fled; whereupon he came up to me and said, “Since my deliverance from yonder serpent hath been at thy hands I will never leave thee, and thou shalt be my comrade on this mountain.” “And welcome,” answered I; so we fared on along the mountain, till we fell in with a company of folk, and I looked and saw amongst them the very man who had carried me and cast me down there. I went up to him and spake him fair, excusing myself to him and saying, “O my comrade, it is not thus that friend should deal with friend.” Quoth he, “It was thou who well-nigh destroyed us by thy Tasbih and thy glorifying God on my back.” Quoth I, “Pardon me, for I had no knowledge of this matter; but, if thou wilt take me with thee, I swear not to say a word.” So he relented and consented to carry me with him, but he made an express condition that, so long as I abode on his back, I should abstain from pronouncing the Tasbih or otherwise glorifying God. Then I gave the wand of gold to him whom I had delivered from the serpent and bade him farewell, and my friend took me on his back and flew with me as before, till he brought me to the city and set me down in my own house. My wife came to meet me and saluting me gave me joy of my safety and then said, “Beware of going forth hereafter with yonder folk, neither consort with them, for they are brethren of the devils, and know not how to mention the name of Allah Almighty; neither worship they Him.” “And how did thy father with them?” asked I; and she answered, “My father was not of them, neither did he as they; and as now he is dead methinks thou hadst better sell all we have and with the price buy merchandise and journey to thine own country and people, and I with thee; for I care not to tarry in this city, my father and my mother being dead.” So I sold all the Shaykh’s property piecemeal, and looked for one who should be journeying thence to Bassorah that I might join myself to him. And while thus doing I heard of a company of townsfolk who had a mind to make the voyage, but could not find them a ship; so they bought wood and built them a great ship wherein I took passage with them, and paid them all the hire. Then we embarked, I and my wife, with all our moveables, leaving our houses and domains and so forth, and set sail, and ceased not sailing from island to island and from sea to sea, with a fair wind and a favouring, till we arrived at Bassorah safe and sound. I made no stay there, but freighted another vessel and, transferring my goods to her, set out forthright for Baghdad-city, where I arrived in safety, and entering my quarter and repairing to my house, foregathered with my family and friends and familiars who laid up my goods in my warehouses. When my people who, reckoning the period of my absence on this my seventh voyage, had found it to be seven and twenty years, and had given up all hope of me, heard of my return, they came to welcome me and to give me joy of my safety; and I related to them all that had befallen me; whereat they marvelled with exceeding marvel. Then I forswore travel and vowed to Allah the Most High I would venture no more by land or sea, for that this seventh and last voyage had surfeited me of travel and adventure; and I thanked the Lord (be He praised and glorified!), and blessed Him for having restored me to my kith and kin and country and home. “Consider, therefore, O Sindbad, O Landsman,” continued Sindbad the Seaman, “what sufferings I have undergone and what perils and hardships I have endured before coming to my present state.” “Allah upon thee, O my Lord!” answered Sindbad the Landsman, “pardon me the wrong I did thee.”1 And they ceased not from friendship and fellowship, abiding in all cheer and pleasures and solace of life till there came to them the Destoyer of delights and the Sunderer of Societies, and the Shatterer of palaces and the Caterer for Cemeteries to wit, the Cup of Death, and glory be to the Living One who dieth not!”2
1 i.e. in envying his wealth, with the risk of the evil eye.
2 I subjoin a translation of the Seventh Voyage from the Calc. Edit. of the two hundred Nights which differs in essential points from the above. All respecting Sindbad the Seaman has an especial interest. In one point this world-famous tale is badly ordered. The most exciting adventures are the earliest and the falling off of the interest has a somewhat depressing effect. The Rukh, the Ogre and the Old Man o’ the Sea should come last.
Know, O my brothers and friends and companions all, that when I left voyaging and commercing, I said in myself, “Sufficeth me that hath befallen me;” and I spent my time in solace and pleasure. One day as I sat at home there came a knock at the door, and when the porter opened a page entered and said, “The Caliph biddeth thee to him.” I went with him to the King’s majesty and kissed ground and saluted him; whereupon he welcomed me and entreated me with honour and said, “O Sindbad, I have an occasion for thee: wilt thou do it?” So I kissed his hand and asked him, saying, “O my lord, what occasion hath the master for the slave?”; whereto he answered me, “I am minded that thou travel to the King of Sarandib and carry to him our writ and our gift, for that he hath sent to us a present and a letter. I trembled at these words and rejoined, “By Allah the Omnipotent, O my lord, I have taken a loathing to wayfare, and when I hear the words ‘Voyage’ or ‘Travel,’ my limbs tremble for what hath befallen me of hardships and horrors. Indeed I have no desire whatever for this; more by token as I have bound myself by oath not to quit Baghdad.” Then I informed the Caliph of all I had passed through from first to last, and he marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, “By the Almighty, O Sindbad, from ages of old such mishaps as happened to thee were never know to happen to any, and thou dost only right never even to talk of travel. For our sake, however, thou wilt go this time and carry our present and our letter to him of Sarandib; and Inshallah — by God’s leave! — thou shalt return quickly; and on this wise we shall be under no obligation to the said King.” I replied that I heard and obeyed, being unable to oppose his command, so he gave me the gifts and the missive with money to pay my way and I kissed hands and left the presence. Then I dropped down from Baghdad to the Gulf, and with other merchants embarked, and our ship sailed before a fair wind many days and nights till, by Allah’s aid, we reached the island of Sarandib. As soon as we had made fast we landed and I took the present and the letter; and, going in with them to the King, kissed ground before him. When he saw me, he said, “Well come, O Sindbad! By Allah Omnipotent we were longing to see thee, and glory be to God who hath again shown us thy face!” Then taking me by the hand he made me sit by his side, rejoicing, and he welcomed me with familiar kindness again and entreated me as a friend. After this he began to converse with me and courteously addressed me and asked, “What was the cause of thy coming to us, O Sindbad?” So after kissing his hand and thanking him I answered, “O my lord, I have brought thee a present from my master, the Caliph Harun Al–Rashid;” and offered him the present and the letter which he read and at which he rejoiced with passing joy. The present consisted of a mare worth ten thousand ducats, bearing a golden saddle set with jewels; a book; a sumptuous suit of clothes and an hundred different kinds of white Cairene cloths and silks of Suez,1 Cufa and Alexandria; Greek carpets and an hundred maunds2 weight of linen and raw silk. Moreover there was a wondrous rarety, a marvellous cup of crystal middlemost of which was the figure of a lion faced by a kneeling man grasping a bow with arrow drawn to the very head, together with the food-tray3 of Sulayman the son of David (on whom be peace!). The missive ran as follows, “Peace from King Al–Rashid, the aided of Allah (who hath vouchsafed to him and his forefathers noble rank and wide-spread glory), be on the fortunate Sultan. But after. Thy letter came to our hands and we rejoiced thereat; and we have sent the book entitled ‘Delight of the Intelligent and for Friends the Rare Present,’4 together with sundry curiosities suitable for Kings; so do thou favour us by accepting them: and peace be with thee!” Then the King lavished upon me much wealth and entreated me with all honour; so I prayed for him and thanked him for his munificence. Some days after I craved his leave to depart, but could not obtain it except by great pressing, whereupon I farewelled him and fared forth from his city, with merchants and other companions, homewards-bound without any desire for travel or companions, homewards-bound without any desire for travel or trade. We continued voyaging and coasting along many islands; but, when we were half-way, we were surrounded by a number of canoes, wherein were men like devils armed with bows and arrows, swords and daggers; habited in mail-coats and other armoury. They fell upon us and wounded and slew all who opposed them; then, having captured the ship and her contents, carried us to an island, where they sold us at the meanest price. Now I was bought by a wealthy man who, taking me to his house, gave me meat and drink and clothing and treated me in the friendliest manner; so I was heartened and I rested a little. One day he asked me, “Dost thou know any art or craft?” and I answered him, “O my lord, I am a merchant and know nothing but trade and traffic.” “Dost thou know,” rejoined he, “how to use bow and arrow?” “Yes,” replied I, “I know that much.” Thereupon he brought me a bow and arrows and mounted me behind him upon an elephant: then he set out as night was well nigh over and, passing through a forest of huge growths, came to a tall and sturdy tree up which he made me climb. Then he gave me the bow and arrows, saying, “Sit here now, and when the elephants troop hither in early morning, shoot at them; belike thou wilt hit one; and, if he fall, come and tell me.” With this he left me. I hid myself in the tree being in sore terror and trembled till the sun arose; and, when the elephants appeared and wandered about among the trees, I shot my arrows at them and continued till I had shot down one of them. In the evening I reported my success to my master who was delighted in me and entreated me with high honour; and next morning he removed the slain elephant. In this wise I continued, every morning shooting an elephant which my master would remove till, one day, as I was perched in hiding on the tree there came on suddenly and unexpectedly an innumerable host of elephants whose screaming and trumpeting were such that I imagined the earth trembled under them. All surrounded my tree, whose circumference was some fifty cubits,5 and one enormous monster came up to it and winding his trunk round the bole haled it up by the roots, and dashed it to the ground. I fell down fainting amongst the beasts when the monster elephant wound his trunk about me and, setting me on his back, went off with me, the others accompanying us. He carried me still unconscious till he reached the place for which he was making, when he rolled me off his back and presently went his ways followed by the others. So I rested a little; and, when my terror had subsided, I looked about me and I found myself among the bones of elephants, whereby I concluded that this was their burial-place, and that the monster elephant had led me thither on account of the tusks.6 So I arose and walked a whole day and night till I arrived at the house of my master, who saw my colour changed by stress of affright and famine. He rejoiced in my return and said to me, “By Allah, thou hast made my heart sore! I went when thou wast missing and found the tree torn up, and thought that the elephants had slain thee. Tell me how it was with thee.” I acquainted him with all that had betided me; whereat he wondered greatly, and rejoiced and at last asked me, “Dost thou know the place?”; whereto I answered, “Yes, O my master!” So we mounted an elephant and fared until we came to the spot and, when my master beheld the heaps of tusks, he rejoiced greatly; then carrying away as many as he wanted he returned with me home. After this, he entreated me with increased favour and said, “O my son, thou hast shown us the way to great gain, wherefore Allah requite thee! Thou art freed for the Almighty’s sake and before His face! The elephants used to destroy many of us on account of our hunting them for their ivories and sorivellos; but Allah hath preserved thee from them, and thou hast profited us by the heaps to which thou hast led us.” “O my master,” replied I, “God free thy neck from the fire! And do thou grant me, O my master, thy gracious leave to return to my own country.” “Yes” quoth he, “thou shalt have that permission. But we have a yearly fair, when merchants come to us from various quarters to buy up these ivories. The time is drawing near; and, when they shall have done their business, I will send thee under their charge and will give thee wherewithal to reach thy home.” So I blessed and thanked him and remained with him, treated with respect and honour, for some days, when the merchants came as he had foretold, and bought and sold and bartered; and when they had made their preparations to return, my master came to me and said, “Rise and get thee ready to travel with the traders en route to thy country.” They had bought a number of tusks which they had bound together in loads and were embarking them when my master sent me with them, paying for my passage and settling all my debts; besides which he gave me a large present in goods. We set out and voyaged from island to island till we had crossed the sea and landed on the shores of the Persian Gulf, when the merchants brought out and sold their stores: I also sold what I had at a high profit; and I bought some of the prettiest things in the place for presents and beautiful rareties and everything else I wanted. I likewise bought for myself a beast and we fared forth and crossed the deserts from country to country till I reached Baghdad. Here I went in to the Caliph and, after saluting him and kissing hands, informed him of all that had befallen me; whereupon he rejoiced in my safety and thanked Almighty Allah; and he bade my story be written in letters of gold. I then entered my house and met my family and brethren: and such is the end of the history that happened to me during my seven voyages. Praise be to Allah, the One, the Creator, the Maker of all things in Heaven and Earth! —
Now when Shahrazad had ended her story of the two Sindbads, Dinarzad exclaimed, “O my sister, how pleasant is thy tale and how tasteful! How sweet and how grateful!” She replied, “And what is this compared with that I could tell thee tomorrow night?” Quoth the King, “What may it be?” And she said:— It is a tale touching
1 Arab. “Al–Suways:” this successor of ancient Arsinoë was, according to local tradition, founded by a Santon from Al-Sús in Marocco who called it after his name “Little Sús” (the wormlet).
2 Arab. “Mann,” a weight varying from two to six pounds: even this common term is not found in the tables of Lane’s Mod. Egyptians, Appendix B. The “Maund” is a well-known Anglo–Indian weight.
3 This article is not mentioned elsewhere in The Nights.
4 Apparently a fancy title.
5 The island is evidently Ceylon, long famed for elephants, and the tree is the well known “Banyan” (Ficus Indica). According to Linschoten and Wolf, the elephants of all lands do reverence and honour to those of Ceylon.
6 “Tusks” not “teeth” which are not valued. As Hole remarks, the elephants of Pliny and Sindbad are equally conscious of the value of ivory. Pliny (viii. 3) quotes Herodotus about the buying of ivories and relates how elephants, when hunted, break their “cornua” (as Juba called them) against a tree trunk by way of ransom. Ælian, Plutarch, and Philostratus speak of the linguistic intelligence and religious worship of the “half-reason with the hand,” which the Hindus term “Háthí”=unimanus. Finally, Topsell’s Gesner (p. 152) makes elephants bury their tusks, “which commonly drop out every tenth year.” In Arabian literature the elephant is always connected with India.
It is related that there was, in tide of yore and in times and years long gone before, at Damascus of Syria, a Caliph known as Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, the fifth of the Ommiade house. As this Commander of the Faithful was seated one day in his palace, conversing with his Sultans and Kings and the Grandees of his empire, the talk turned upon the legends of past peoples and the traditions of our lord Solomon, David’s son (on the twain be peace!), and on that which Allah Almighty had bestowed on him of lordship and dominion over men and Jinn and birds and beasts and reptiles and the wind and other created things; and quoth the Caliph, “Of a truth we hear from those who forewent us that the Lord (extolled and exalted be He!) vouchsafed unto none the like of that which He vouchsafed unto our lord Solomon and that he attained unto that whereto never attained other than he, in that he was wont to imprison Jinns and Marids and Satans in cucurbites of copper and to stop them with lead and seal2 them with his ring.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is a true “City of Brass.” (Nuhás asfar=yellow copper), as we learn in Night dcclxxii. It is situated in the “Maghrib” (Mauritania), the region of magic and mystery; and the idea was probably suggested by the grand Roman ruins which rise abruptly from what has become a sandy waste. Compare with this tale “The City of Brass” (Night cclxxii.). In Egypt Nuhás is vulg. pronounced Nihás.
2 The Bresl. Edit. adds that the seal-ring was of stamped stone and iron, copper and lead. I have borrowed copiously from its vol. vi. pp. 343, et seq.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph Abd al-Malik bin Marwan sat conversing with his Grandees concerning our lord Solomon, and these noted what Allah had bestowed upon him of lordship and dominion, quoth the Commander of the Faithful, “Indeed he attained unto that whereto never attained other than he, in that he was wont to imprison Jinns and Marids and Satans in cucurbites of copper and stop them with lead and seal them with his ring.” Then said Talib bin Sahl (who was a seeker after treasures and had books that discovered to him hoards and wealth hidden under the earth), “O Commander of the Faithful — Allah make thy dominion to endure and exalt thy dignity here and hereafter! — my father told me of my grandfather, that he once took ship with a company, intending for the island of Sikiliyah or Sicily, and sailed until there arose against them a contrary wind, which drove them from their course and brought them, after a month, to a great mountain in one of the lands of Allah the Most High, but where that land was they wot not. Quoth my grandfather:—‘This was in the darkness of the night and as soon as it was day, there came forth to us, from the caves of the mountain, folk black of colour and naked of body, as they were wild beasts, understanding not one word of what was addressed to them; nor was there any of them who knew Arabic, save their King who was of their own kind. When he saw the ship, he came down to it with a company of his followers and saluting us, bade us welcome and questioned us of our case and our faith. We told him all concerning ourselves and he said, ‘Be of good cheer for no harm shall befal you.’ And when we, in turn, asked them of their faith, we found that each was of one of the many creeds prevailing before the preaching of Al–Islam and the mission of Mohammed, whom may Allah bless and keep! So my shipmates remarked, We wot not what thou sayest.’ Then quoth the King, ‘No Adam-son hath ever come to our land before you: but fear not, and rejoice in the assurance of safety and of return to your own country.’ Then he entertained us three days, feeding us on the flesh of birds and wild beasts and fishes, than which they had no other meat; and, on the fourth day, he carried us down to the beach, that we might divert ourselves by looking upon the fisher-folk. There we saw a man casting his net to catch fish, and presently he pulled them up and behold, in them was a cucurbite of copper, stopped with lead and sealed with the signet of Solomon, son of David, on whom be peace! He brought the vessel to land and broke it open, when there came forth a smoke, which rose a-twisting blue to the zenith, and we heard a horrible voice, saying, ‘I repent! I repent! Pardon, O Prophet of Allah! I will never return to that which I did aforetime.’ Then the smoke became a terrible Giant frightful of form, whose head was level with the mountain-tops, and he vanished from our sight, whilst our hearts were well-nigh torn out for terror; but the blacks thought nothing of it. Then we returned to the King and questioned him of the matter; whereupon quoth he, ‘Know that this was one of the Jinns whom Solomon, son of David, being wroth with them, shut up in these vessels and cast into the sea, after stopping the mouths with melted lead. Our fishermen ofttimes, in casting their nets, bring up such bottles, which being broken open, there come forth of them Jinnis who, deeming that Solomon is still alive and can pardon them, make their submission to him and say, I repent, O Prophet of Allah!’” The Caliph marvelled at Talib’s story and said, “Glory be to God! Verily, to Solomon was given a mighty dominion.” Now al-Nábighah al-Zubyání1 was present, and he said, “Talib hath spoken soothly as is proven by the saying of the All-wise, the Primæval One,
‘And Solomon, when Allah to him said,
‘Rise, be thou Caliph, rule with righteous sway:
Honour obedience for obeying thee;
And who rebels imprison him for aye’
Wherefore he used to put them in copper-bottles and cast them into the sea.” The poet’s words seemed good to the Caliph, and he said, “By Allah, I long to look upon some of these Solomonic vessels, which must be a warning to whoso will be warned.” “O Commander of the Faithful,” replied Talib, “it is in thy power to do so, without stirring abroad. Send to thy brother Abd al-Aziz bin Marwán, so he may write to Músá bin Nusayr,2 governor of the Maghrib or Morocco, bidding him take horse thence to the mountains whereof I spoke and fetch thee therefrom as many of such cucurbites as thou hast a mind to; for those mountains adjoin the frontiers of his province.” The Caliph approved his counsel and said “Thou hast spoken sooth, O Talib, and I desire that, touching this matter, thou be my messenger to Musa bin Nusayr; wherefore thou shalt have the White Flag3 and all thou hast a mind to of monies and honour and so forth; and I will care for thy family during thine absence.” “With love and gladness, O Commander of the Faithful!” answered Talib. “Go, with the blessing of Allah and His aid,” quoth the Caliph, and bade write a letter to his brother, Abd al-Aziz, his viceroy in Egypt, and another to Musa bin Nusayr, his viceroy in North Western Africa, bidding him go himself in quest of the Solomonic bottles, leaving his son to govern in his stead. Moreover, he charged him to engage guides and to spare neither men nor money, nor to be remiss in the matter as he would take no excuse. Then he sealed the two letters and committed them to Talib bin Sahl, bidding him advance the royal ensigns before him and make his utmost speed and he gave him treasure and horsemen and footmen, to further him on his way, and made provision for the wants of his household during his absence. So Talib set out and arrived in due course at Cairo.4 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 As this was a well-known pre-Islamitic bard, his appearance here is decidedly anachronistic, probably by intention.
2 The first Moslem conqueror of Spain whose lieutenant, Tárik, the gallant and unfortunate, named Gibraltar (Jabal al- Tarik).
3 The colours of the Banú Umayyah (Ommiade) Caliphs were white, of the Banú Abbás (Abbasides) black, and of the Fatimites green. Carrying the royal flag denoted the generalissimo or plenipotentiary.
4 i.e. Old Cairo, or Fustat: the present Cairo was then a Coptic village founded on an old Egyptian settlement called Lui- Tkeshroma, to which belonged the tanks on the hill and the great well, Bir Yusuf, absurdly attributed to Joseph the Patriarch. Lui is evidently the origin of Levi and means a high priest (Brugsh ii. 130) and his son’s name was Roma.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Talib bin Sahl set out with his escort and crossed the desert country between Syria and Egypt, where the Governor came out to meet him and entreated him and his company with high honour whilst they tarried with him. Then he gave them a guide to bring them to the Sa’íd or Upper Egypt, where the Emir Musa had his abiding-place; and when the son of Nusayr heard of Talib’s coming, he went forth to meet him and rejoiced in him. Talib gave him the Caliph’s letter, and he took it reverently and, laying it on his head, cried, “I hear and I obey the Prince of the Faithful.” Then he deemed it best to assemble his chief officers and when all were present he acquainted them with the contents of the Caliph’s letter and sought counsel of them how he should act. “O Emir,” answered they, “if thou seek one who shall guide thee to the place summon the Shaykh ‘Abd al-Samad, ibn ‘Abd al-Kuddús, al- Samúdí;1 for he is a man of varied knowledge, who hath travelled much and knoweth by experience all the seas and wastes and words and countries of the world and the inhabitants and wonders thereof; wherefore send thou for him and he will surely guide thee to thy desire.” So Musa sent for him, and behold, he was a very ancient man shot in years and broken down with lapse of days. The Emir saluted him and said, “O Shaykh Abd al-Samad, our lord the Commander of the Faithful, Abd al-Malik bin Marwan’ hath commanded me thus and thus. I have small knowledge of the land wherein is that which the Caliph desireth; but it is told me that thou knowest it well and the ways thither. Wilt thou, therefore, go with me and help me to accomplish the Caliph’s need? So it please Allah the Most High, thy trouble and travail shall not go waste.” Replied the Shaykh, “I hear and obey the bidding of the Commander of the Faithful; but know, O Emir, that the road thither is long and difficult and the ways few.” “How far is it?” asked Musa, and the Shaykh answered, “It is a journey of two years and some months going and the like returning; and the way is full of hardships and terrors and things wondrous and marvellous. Now thou art a champion of the Faith2 and our country is hard by that of the enemy; and peradventure the Nazarenes may come out upon us in thine absence; wherefore it behoveth thee to leave one to rule thy government in thy stead.” “It is well,” answered the Emir and appointed his son Hárún Governor during his absence, requiring the troops to take the oath of fealty to him and bidding them obey him in all he should com mend. And they heard his words and promised obedience. Now this Harun was a man of great prowess and a renowned warrior and a doughty knight, and the Shaykh Abd al-Samad feigned to him that the place they sought was distant but four months’ journey along the shore of the sea, with camping-places all the way, adjoining one another, and grass and springs, adding, “Allah will assuredly make the matter easy to us through thy blessing, O Lieutenant of the Commander of the Faithful!” Quoth the Emir Musa, “Knowest thou if any of the Kings have trodden this land before us?”; and quoth the Shaykh, “Yes, it belonged aforetime to Darius the Greek, King of Alexandria.” But he said to Musa privily, “O Emir, take with thee a thousand camels laden with victual and store of gugglets.”3 The Emir asked, “And what shall we do with these?”, and the Shaykh answered. “On our way is the desert of Kayrwán or Cyrene, the which is a vast wold four days’ journey long, and lacketh water; nor therein doth sound of voice ever sound nor is soul at any time to be seen. Moreover, there bloweth the Simoon4 and other hot winds called Al–Juwayb, which dry up the water-skins; but if the water be in gugglets, no harm can come to it.” “Right,” said Musa and sending to Alexandria, let bring thence great plenty of gugglets. Then he took with him his Wazir and two thousand cavalry, clad in mail cap-á-pie and set out, without other to guide them but Abd al-Samad who forewent them, riding on his hackney. The party fared on diligently, now passing through inhabited lands, then ruins and anon traversing frightful words and thirsty wastes and then mountains which spired high in air; nor did they leave journeying a whole year’s space till, one morning, when the day broke, after they had travelled all night, behold, the Shaykh found himself in a land he knew not and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Quoth the Emir, “What is to do, O Shaykh?”; and he answered, saying, “By the Lord of the Ka’abah, we have wandered from our road!” “How cometh that?” asked Musa, and Abd al-Samad replied, “The stars were overclouded and I could not guide myself by them.” “Where on God’s earth are we now?” asked the Emir, and the Shaykh answered, “I know not; for I never set eyes on this land till this moment.” Said Musa, “Guide us back to the place where we went astray”, but the other, “I know it no more.” Then Musa, “Let us push on; haply Allah will guide us to it or direct us aright of His power.” So they fared on till the hour of noon-prayer, when they came to a fair champaign, and wide and level and smooth as it were the sea when calm, and presently there appeared to them, on the horizon some great thing, high and black, in whose midst was as it were smoke rising to the confines of the sky. They made for this, and stayed not in their course till they drew near thereto, when, lo! it was a high castle, firm of foundations and great and gruesome, as it were a towering mountain, builded all of black stone, with frowning crenelles and a door of gleaming China steel, that dazzled the eyes and dazed the wits. Round about it were a thousand steps and that which appeared afar off as it were smoke was a central dome of lead an hundred cubits high. When the Emir saw this, he marvelled thereat with exceeding marvel and how this place was void of inhabitants; and the Shaykh, after he had certified himself thereof, said, “There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God!” Quoth Musa, “I hear thee praise the Lord and hallow Him, and meseemeth thou rejoicest.” “O Emir,” answered Abd al-Samad, “Rejoice, for Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath delivered us from the frightful words and thirsty wastes.” “How knowest thou that?” said Musa, and the other, “I know it for that my father told me of my grandfather that he said, ‘We were once journeying in this land and, straying from the road, we came to this palace and thence to the City of Brass; between which and the place thou seekest is two full months’ travel; but thou must take to the sea-shore and leave it not, for there be watering-places and wells and camping-grounds established by King Zú al-Karnayn Iskandar who, when he went to the conquest of Mauritania, found by the way thirsty deserts and wastes and wilds and dug therein water-pits and built cisterns.’ “ Quoth Musa, “Allah rejoice thee with good news!” and quoth the Shaykh, “Come, let us go look upon yonder palace and its marvels, for it is an admonition to whose will be admonished.” So the Emir went up to the palace, with the Shaykh and his officers, and coming to the gate, found it open. Now this gate was builded with lofty columns and porticoes whose walls and ceilings were inlaid with gold and silver and precious stones; and there led up to it flights of steps, among which were two wide stairs of coloured marble, never was seen their like; and over the doorway was a tablet whereon were graven letters of gold in the old ancient Ionian character. “O Emir,” asked the Shaykh, “Shall I read?”; and Musa answered, “Read and God bless thee!; for all that betideth us in this journey dependeth upon thy blessing.” So the Shaykh, who was a very learned man and versed in all tongues and characters, went up to the tablet and read whatso was thereon and it was verse like this,
“The signs that here their mighty works portray
Warn us that all must tread the self-same way:
O thou who standest in this stead to hear
Tidings of folk, whose power hath passed for aye,
Enter this palace-gate and ask the news
Of greatness fallen into dust and clay:
Death has destroyed them and dispersed their might
And in the dust they lost their rich display;
As had they only set their burdens down
To rest awhile, and then had rode away.”
When the Emir Musa heard these couplets, he wept till he lost his senses and said, “There is no god but the God, the Living, the Eternal, who ceaseth not!” Then he entered the palace and was confounded at its beauty and the goodliness of its construction. He diverted himself awhile by viewing the pictures and images therein, till he came to another door, over which also were written verses, and said to the Shaykh, “Come read me these!” So he advanced and read as follows,
“Under these domes how many a company
Halted of old and fared with-outen stay:
See thou what might displays on other wights
Time with his shifts which could such lords waylay:
They shared together what they gathered
And left their joys and fared to Death-decay:
What joys they joyed! what food they ate! and now
In dust they’re eaten, for the worm a prey.”
At this the Emir Musa wept bitter tears; and the world waxed yellow before his eyes and he said, “Verily, we were created for a mighty matter!”5 Then they proceeded to explore the palace and found it desert and void of living thing, its courts desolate and dwelling places waste laid. In the midst stood a lofty pavilion with a dome rising high in air, and about it were four hundred tombs, builded of yellow marble. The Emir drew near unto these and behold, amongst them was a great tomb, wide and long; and at its head stood a tablet of white marble, whereon were graven these couplets,
“How oft have I fought! and how many have slain!
How much have
I witnessed of blessing and bane!
How much have I eaten! how much have I drunk!
How oft have I hearkened to singing-girl’s strain!
How much have I bidden! how oft have forbid!
How many a castle and castellain
I have sieged and have searched, and the cloistered maids
In the depths of its walls for my captives were ta’en!
But of ignorance sinned I to win me the meeds
Which won proved naught and brought nothing of gain:
Then reckon thy reck’ning, O man, and be wise
Ere the goblet of death and of doom thou shalt drain;
For yet but a little the dust on thy head
They shall strew, and thy life shall go down to the dead.”
The Emir and his companions wept; then, drawing near unto the pavilion, they saw that it had eight doors of sandal-wood, studded with nails of gold and stars of silver and inlaid with all manner precious stones. On the first door were written these verses,
“What I left, I left it not for nobility of soul,
But through sentence and decree that to every man are dight.
What while I lived happy, with a temper haught and high,
My hoarding-place defending like a lion in the fight,
I took no rest, and greed of gain forbad me give a grain
Of mustard seed to save from the fires of Hell my sprite,
Until stricken on a day, as with arrow, by decree
Of the Maker, the Fashioner, the Lord of Might and Right.
When my death was appointed, my life I could not keep
By the many of my stratagems, my cunning and my sleight:
My troops I had collected availed me not, and none
Of my friends and of my neighbours had power to mend my plight:
Through my life I was weaned in journeying to death
In stress or in solace, in joyance or despight:
So when money-bags are bloated, and dinar unto dinar
Thou addest, all may leave thee with fleeting of the night:
And the driver of a camel and the digger of a grave6
Are what thine heirs shall bring ere the morning dawneth bright:
And on Judgment Day alone shalt thou stand before thy Lord,
Overladen with thy sins and thy crimes and thine affright:
Let the world not seduce thee with lurings, but behold
What measure to thy family and neighbours it hath doled.”
When Musa heard these verses, he wept with such weeping that he swooned away; then, coming to himself, he entered the pavilion and saw therein a long tomb, awesome to look upon, whereon was a tablet of China steel and Shaykh Abd al-Samad drew near it and read this inscription: “In the name of Ever-lasting Allah, the Never-beginning, the Never-ending; in the name of Allah who begetteth not nor is He begot and unto whom the like is not; in the name of Allah the Lord of Majesty and Might; in the name of the Living One who to death is never dight!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 I cannot but suspect that this is a clerical error for “Al–Samanhúdi,” a native of Samanhúd (Wilkinson’s “Semenood”) in the Delta on the Damietta branch, the old Sebennytus (in Coptic Jem-nuti=Jem the God), a town which has produced many distinguished men in Moslem times. But there is also a Samhúd lying a few miles down stream from Denderah and, as its mounds prove, it is an ancient site.
2 Egypt had not then been conquered from the Christians.
3 Arab. “Kízán fukká‘a,” i.e. thin and slightly porous earthenware jars used for Fukká‘a, a fermented drink, made of barley or raisins.
4 I retain this venerable blunder: the right form is Samúm, from Samm, the poison-wind.
5 i.e. for worship and to prepare for futurity.
6 The camel carries the Badawi’s corpse to the cemetery which is often distant: hence to dream of a camel is an omen of death.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shaykh Abd al-Samad, having read the aforesaid, also found the following, “O thou who comest to this place, take warning by that which thou seest of the accidents of Time and the vicissitudes of Fortune and be not deluded by the world and its pomps and vanities and fallacies and falsehoods and vain allurements, for that it is flattering, deceitful end treacherous, and the things thereof are but a loan to us which it will borrow back from all borrowers. It is like unto the dreams of the dreamer and the sleep-visions of the sleeper or as the mirage of the desert, which the thirsty take for water;1 and Satan maketh it fair for men even unto death These are the ways of the world; wherefore put not thou thy trust therein neither incline thereto, for it bewrayeth him who leaneth upon it and who committeth himself thereunto in his affairs. Fall not thou into its snares neither take hold upon its skirts, but be warned by my example. I possessed four thou sand bay horses and a haughty palace, and I had to wife a thou sand daughters of kings, high-bosomed maids, as they were moons: I was blessed with a thousand sons as they were fierce lions, and I abode a thousand years, glad of heart and mind, and I amassed treasures beyond the competence of all the Kings of the regions of the earth, deeming that delight would still endure to me. But there fell on me unawares the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies, the Desolator of domiciles and the Spoiler of inhabited spots, the Murtherer of great and small, babes and children and mothers, he who hath no ruth on the poor for his poverty, or feareth the King for all his bidding or forbidding. Verily, we abode safe and secure in this palace, till there descended upon us the judgment of the Lord of the Three Worlds, Lord of the Heavens, and Lord of the Earths, the vengeance of the Manifest Truth2 overtook us, when there died of us every day two, till a great company of us had perished. When I saw that destruction had entered our dwellings and had homed with us and in the sea of deaths had drowned us, I summoned a writer and bade him indite these verses and instances and admonitions, the which I let grave, with rule and compass, on these doors and tablets and tombs. Now I had an army of a thousand thousand bridles, men of warrior mien with forearms strong and keen, armed with spears and mail-coats sheen and swords that gleam; so I bade them don their long-hanging hauberks and gird on their biting blades and mount their high-mettled steeds and level their dreadful lances; and whenas there fell on us the doom of the Lord of heaven and earth, I said to them, ‘Ho, all ye soldiers and troopers, can ye avail to ward off that which is fallen on me from the Omnipotent King?’ But troopers and soldiers availed not unto this and said, ‘How shall we battle with Him to whom no chamberlain barreth access, the Lord of the door which hath no doorkeeper?’ Then quoth I to them, ‘Bring me my treasures’ Now I had in my treasuries a thousand cisterns in each of which were a thousand quintals3 of red gold and the like of white silver, besides pearls and jewels of all kinds and other things of price, beyond the attainment of the kings of the earth. So they did that and when they had laid all the treasure in my presence, I said to them, ‘Can ye ransom me with all this treasure or buy me one day of life therewith?’ But they could not! So they resigned themselves to fore-ordained Fate and fortune and I submitted to the judgment of Allah, enduring patiently that which he decreed unto me of affliction, till He took my soul and made me to dwell in my grave. And if thou ask of my name, I am Kúsh, the son of Shaddád son of Ád the Greater.” And upon the tablets were engraved these lines,
“An thou wouldst know my name, whose day is done
With shifts of time and chances ‘neath the sun,
Know I am Shaddád’s son, who ruled mankind
And o’er all earth upheld dominion!
All stubborn peoples abject were to me;
And Shám to Cairo and to Adnanwone;4
I reigned in glory conquering many kings;
And peoples feared my mischief every one.
Yea, tribes and armies in my hand I saw;
The world all dreaded me, both friends and fone.
When I took horse, I viewed my numbered troops,
Bridles on neighing steeds a million.
And I had wealth that none could tell or count,
Against misfortune treasuring all I won;
Fain had I bought my life with all my wealth,
And for a moment’s space my death to shun;
But God would naught save what His purpose willed;
So from my brethren cut I ‘bode alone:
And Death, that sunders man, exchanged my lot
To pauper hut from grandeur’s mansion
When found I all mine actions gone and past
Wherefor I’m pledged5 and by my sin undone.
Then fear, O man, who by a brink dost range,
The turns of Fortune and the chance of Change.”
The Emir Musa was hurt to his heart and loathed his life for what he saw of the slaughtering-places of the folk; and, as they went about the highways and byeways of the palace, viewing its sitting-chambers and pleasaunces, behold they came upon a table of yellow onyx, upborne on four feet of juniper-wood,6 and there-on these words graven, “At this table have eaten a thousand kings blind of the right eye and a thousand blind of the left and yet other thousand sound of both eyes, all of whom have departed the world and have taken up their sojourn in the tombs and the catacombs.” All this the Emir wrote down and left the palace, carrying off with him naught save the table aforesaid. Then he fared on with his host three days’ space, under the guidance of the Shaykh Abd al-Samad, till they came to a high hill, whereon stood a horseman of brass. In his hand he held a lance with a broad head, in brightness like blinding leven, whereon was graven, “O thou that comest unto me, if thou know not the way to the City of Brass, rub the hand of this rider and he will turn round and presently stop. Then take the direction whereto he faceth and fare fearless, for it will bring thee, without hardship, to the city aforesaid.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Koran xxiv 39. The word “Saráb” (mirage) is found in Isaiah (xxxv. 7) where the passage should be rendered “And the mirage (sharab) shall become a lake” (not, “and the parched ground shall become a pool”). The Hindus prettily call it “Mrigatrishná” = the thirst of the deer.
2 A name of Allah.
3 Arab. “Kintár”=a hundredweight (i.e. 100 Ibs.), about 98 3/4 Ibs. avoir. Hence the French quintal and its congeners (Littré).
4 i.e. “from Shám (Syria) to (the land of) Adnan,” ancestor of the Naturalized Arabs that is, to Arabia.
5 Koran lii. 21. “Every man is given in pledge for that which he shall have wrought.”
6 There is a constant clerical confusion in the texts between “Arar” (Juniperus Oxycedrus used by the Breeks for the images of their gods) and “Marmar” marble or alabaster, in the Talmud “Marmora” = marble. evidently from {Greek letters} = brilliant, the brilliant stone.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Emir Musa rubbed the horseman’s hand he revolved like the dazzling lightning, and stopped facing in a direction other than that wherein they were journeying. So they took the road to which he pointed (which was the right way) and, finding it a beaten track, fared on through their days and nights till they had covered a wide tract of country. Then they came upon a pillar of black stone like a furnace chimney wherein was one sunken up to his armpits. He had two great wings and four arms, two of them like the arms of the sons of Adam and other two as they were lion’s paws, with claws of iron, and he was black and tall and frightful of aspect, with hair like horses’ tails and eyes like blazing coals, slit upright in his face. Moreover, he had in the middle of his forehead a third eye, as it were that of a lynx, from which flew sparks of fire, and he cried out saying, “Glory to my Lord, who hath adjudged unto me this grievous torment and sore punishment until the Day of Doom!” When the folk saw him, they lost their reason for affright and turned to flee; so the Emir Musa asked the Shaykh Abd al-Samad, “What is this?”; and he answered, “I know not.” Whereupon quoth Musa, “Draw near and question him of his condition; haply he will discover to thee his case.” “Allah assain thee, Emir! Indeed, I am afraid of him;” replied the Shaykh; but the Emir rejoined, saying, “Fear not; he is hindered from thee and from all others by that wherein he is.” So Abd al-Samad drew near to the pillar and said to him which was therein, “O creature, what is thy name and what art thou and how camest thou here in this fashion?” “I am an Ifrit of the Jinn,” replied he, “by name Dáhish, son of Al-A’amash,1 and am confined here by the All-might, prisoned here by the Providence and punished by the judgement of Allah, till it pleases Him, to whom belong Might and Majesty, to release me.” Then said Musa, “Ask him why he is in durance of this column?” So the Shaykh asked him of this, and the Ifrit replied, saying, “Verily my tale is wondrous and my case marvellous, and it is this. One of the sons of Iblis had an idol of red carnelian, whereof I was guardian, and there served it a King of the Kings of the sea, a Prince of puissant power and prow of prowess, over-ruling a thousand thousand warriors of the Jann who smote with swords before him and answered his summons in time of need. All these were under my commandment and obeyed my behest, being each and every rebels against Solomon, son of David, on whom be peace! And I used to enter the belly of the idol and thence bid and forbid them. Now this King’s daughter loved the idol and was frequent in prostration to it and assiduous in its service; and she was the fairest woman of her day, accomplished in beauty and loveliness, elegance and grace. She was described unto Solomon and he sent to her father, saying, ‘Give me thy daughter to wife and break thine idol of carnelian and testify saying, There is no god but the God and Solomon is the Prophet of Allah!’ an thou do this, our due shall be thy due and thy debt shall be our debt, but, if thou refuse, make ready to answer the summons of the Lord and don thy grave-gear, for I will come upon thee with an irresistible host, which shall fill the waste places of earth and make thee as yesterday that is passed away and hath no return for aye.’ When this message reached the King, he waxed insolent and rebellious, pride-full and contumacious and he cried to his Wazirs, ‘What say ye of this? Know ye that Solomon son of David hath sent requiring me to give him my daughter to wife, and break my idol of carnelian and enter his faith!’ And they replied, ‘O mighty King, how shall Solomon do thus with thee? Even could he come at thee in the midst of this vast ocean, he could not prevail against thee, for the Marids of the Jann will fight on thy side and thou wilt ask succour of thine idol whom thou servest, and he will help thee and give thee victory over him. So thou wouldst do well to consult on this matter thy Lord,’ (meaning the idol aforesaid) ‘and hear what he saith. If he say, Fight him, fight him, and if not, not.’ So the King went in without stay or delay to his idol and offered up sacrifices and slaughtered victims; after which he fell down before him, prostrate and weeping, and repeated these verses,
‘O my Lord, well I weet thy puissant hand:
Sulaymán would break thee and see thee bann’d.
O my Lord, to crave succour here I stand
Command and I bow to thy high command!’
Then I” (continued the Ifrit addressing the Shaykh and those about him), “of my ignorance and want of wit and recklessness of the commandment of Solomon and lack of knowledge anent his power, entered the belly of the idol and made answer as follows.
‘As for me, of him I feel naught affright,
For my lore and my wisdom are infinite:
If he wish for warfare I’ll show him fight
And out of his body I’ll tear his sprite!’
When the King heard my boastful reply, he hardened his heart and resolved to wage war upon the Prophet and to offer him battle; wherefore he beat the messenger with a grievous beating and returned a foul answer to Solomon, threatening him and saying, ‘Of a truth, thy soul hath suggested to thee a vain thing; dost thou menace me with mendacious words? But gird thyself for battle; for, an thou come not to me, I will assuredly come to thee.’ So the messenger returned to Solomon and told him all that had passed and whatso had befallen him, which when the Prophet heard, he raged like Doomsday and addressed himself to the fray and levied armies of men and Jann and birds and reptiles. He commanded his Wazir Al–Dimiryát, King of the Jann, to gather together the Marids of the Jinn from all parts, and he collected for him six hundred thousand thousand of devils.2 Moreover, by his order, his Wazir Ásaf bin Barkhiyá levied him an army of men, to the number of a thousand thousand or more. These all he furnished with arms and armour and mounting, with his host, upon his carpet, took flight through air, while the beasts fared under him and the birds flew overhead, till he lighted down on the island of the refractory King and encompassed it about, filling earth with his hosts.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These Ifritical names are chosed for their bizarrerie. “Al-Dáhish” = the Amazed; and “Al-A’amash” = one with weak eyes always watering.
2 The Arabs have no word for million; so Messer Marco Miglione could not have learned it from them. On the other hand the Hindus have more quadrillions than modern Europe.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifrit continued, “So when Solomon the prophet (with whom be peace!) lighted down with his host on the island he sent to our King, saying, ‘Behold, I am come: defend thy life against that which is fallen upon thee, or else make thy submission to me and confess my apostleship and give me thy daughter to lawful wife and break thine idol and worship the one God, the alone Worshipful; and testify, thou and thine, and say, ‘There is no God but the God, and Solomon is the Apostle of Allah!1 This if thou do, thou shalt have pardon and peace; but if not, it will avail thee nothing to fortify thyself in this island, for Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath bidden the wind obey me; so I will bid it bear me to thee on my carpet and make thee a warning and an example to deter others.’ But the King made answer to his messenger, saying, ‘It may not on any wise be as he requireth of me; so tell him I come forth to him,’ With this reply the messenger returned to Solomon, who thereupon gathered together all the Jinn that were under his hand, to the number of a thousand thousand, and added to them other than they of Marids and Satans from the islands of the sea and the tops of the mountains and, drawing them up on parade, opened his armouries and distributed to them arms and armour. Then the Prophet drew out his host in battle array, dividing the beasts into two bodies, one on the right wing of the men and the other on the left, and bidding them tear the enemies’ horses in sunder. Furthermore, he ordered the birds which were in the island to hover over their heads and, whenas the assault should be made, that they should swoop down and tear out the foe’s eyes with their beaks and buffet their faces with their wings; and they answered, saying, ‘We hear and we obey Allah and thee, O Prophet of Allah!’ Then Solomon seated himself on a throne of alabaster, studded with precious stones and plated with red gold; and, commanding the wind to bear him aloft, set his Wazir Asaf bin Barkhiya2 and the kings of mankind on his right and his Wazir Al–Dimiryat and the kings of the Jinn on his left, arraying the beasts and vipers and serpents in the van. Thereupon they all set on us together, and we gave them battle two days over a vast plain; but, on the third day, disaster befel us, and the judgment of Allah the Most High was executed upon us. Now the first to charge upon them were I and my troops, and I said to my companions, ‘Abide in your places, whilst I sally forth to them and provoke Al–Dimiryat to combat singular.’ And behold, he came forth to the duello as he were a vast mountain, with his fires flaming and his smoke spireing, and shot at me a falling star of fire; but I swerved from it and it missed me. Then I cast at him in my turn, a flame of fire, and smote him; but his shaft3 overcame my fire and he cried out at me so terrible a cry that meseemed the skies were fallen flat upon me, and the mountains trembled at his voice. Then he commanded his hosts to charge; accordingly they rushed on us and we rushed on them, each crying out upon other, and battle reared its crest rising in volumes and smoke ascending in columns and hearts well nigh cleaving. The birds and the flying Jinn fought in the air and the beasts and men and the foot-faring Jann in the dust and I fought with Al-Dimiryat, till I was aweary and he not less so. At last, I grew weak and turned to flee from him, whereupon my companions and tribesmen likewise took to flight and my hosts were put to the rout, and Solomon cried out, saying, ‘Take yonder furious tyrant, the accursed, the infamous!’ Then man fell upon man and Jinn upon Jinn and the armies of the Prophet charged down upon us, with the wild beasts and lions on their right hand and on their left, rending our horses and tearing our men; whilst the birds hovered over-head in air pecking out our eyes with their claws and beaks and beating our faces with their wings, and the serpents struck us with their fangs, till the most of our folk lay prone upon the face of the earth, like the trunks of date-trees. Thus defeat befel our King and we became a spoil unto Solomon. As to me, I fled from before Al–Dimiryat, but he followed me three months’ journey, till I fell down for weariness and he overtook me, and pouncing upon me, made me prisoner. Quoth I, ‘By the virtue of Him who hath exalted thee and abased me, spare me and bring me into the presence of Solomon, on whom be peace!’ So he carried me before Solomon, who received me after the foulest fashion and bade bring this pillar and hollow it out. Then he set me herein and chained me and sealed me with his signet-ring, and Al-Dimiryat bore me to this place wherein thou seest me. Moreover, he charged a great angel to guard me, and this pillar is my prison until Judgment-day.” Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This formula, according to Moslems, would begin with the beginning “There is no iláh but Allah and Adam is the Apostle (rasúl = one sent, a messenger, not nabí = prophet) of Allah.” And so on with Noah, Moses, David (not Solomon as a rule) and Jesus, to Mohammed.
2 This son of Barachia has been noticed before. The text embroiders the Koranic chapter No. xxvii.
3 The Bresl. Edit. (vi. 371) reads “Samm-hu”=his poison, prob. a clerical error for “Sahmhu”=his shaft. It was a duel with the “Shiháb” or falling stars, the meteors which are popularly supposed, I have said, to be the arrows shot by the angels against devils and evil spirits when they approach too near Heaven in order to overhear divine secrets.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Jinni who was prisoned in the pillar had told them his tale, from first to last, the folk marvelled at his story and at the frightfulness of his favour, and the Emir Musa said, “There is no God but the God! Soothly was Solomon gifted with a mighty dominion.” Then said the Shaykh Abd al-Samad to the Jinni, “Ho there! I would fain ask thee of a thing, whereof do thou inform us.” “Ask what thou wilt,” answered the Ifrit Dahish and the Shaykh said, “Are there hereabouts any of the Ifrits imprisoned in bottles of brass from the time of Solomon (on whom be peace!)?” “Yes,” replied the Jinni; “there be such in the sea of al-Karkar1 on the shores whereof dwell a people of the lineage of Noah (on whom be peace!); for their country was not reached by the Deluge and they are cut off there from the other sons of Adam.” Quoth Abd al-Samad, “And which is the way to the City of Brass and the place wherein are the cucurbites of Solomon, and what distance lieth between us and it?” Quoth the Ifrit, “It is near at hand,” and directed them in the way thither. So they left him and fared forward till there appeared to them afar off a great blackness and therein two fires facing each other, and the Emir Musa asked the Shaykh, “What is yonder vast blackness and its twin fires?”; and the guide answered, “Rejoice O Emir, for this is the City of Brass, as it is described in the Book of Hidden Treasures which I have by me. Its walls are of black stone and it hath two towers of Andalusian brass,2 which appear to the beholder in the distance as they were twin fires, and hence is it named the City of Brass.” Then they fared on without ceasing till they drew near the city and behold, it was as it were a piece of a mountain or a mass of iron cast in a mould and impenetrable for the height of its walls and bulwarks; while nothing could be more beautiful than its buildings and its ordinance. So they dismounted down and sought for an entrance, but saw none neither found any trace of opening in the walls, albeit there were five-and-twenty portals to the city, but none of them was visible from without. Then quoth the Emir, “O Shaykh, I see to this city no sign of any gate;” and quoth he, “O Emir, thus is it described in my Book of Hidden Treasures; it hath five-and-twenty portals; but none thereof may be opened save from within the city.” Asked Musa, “ And how shall we do to enter the city and view its wonders?” and Talib son of Sahl, his Wazir, answered, “Allah assain the Emir! let us rest here two or three days and, God willing, we will make shift to come within the walls.” Then said Musa to one of his men, “Mount thy camel and ride round about the city, so haply thou may light upon a gate or a place somewhat lower than this fronting us, or Inshallah! a breach whereby we can enter.” Accordingly he mounted his beast, taking water and victuals with him, and rode round the city two days and two nights, without drawing rein to rest, but found the wall thereof as it were one block, without breach or way of ingress; and on the third day, he came again in sight of his companions, dazed and amazed at what he had seen of the extent and loftiness of the place, and said, “O Emir, the easiest place of access is this where you have alighted.” Then Musa took Talib and Abd al-Samad and ascended the highest hill which overlooked the city. When they reached the top, they beheld beneath them a city, never saw eyes a greater or a goodlier, with dwelling-places and mansions of towering height, and palaces and pavilions and domes gleaming gloriously bright and sconces and bulwarks of strength infinite; and its streams were a-flowing and flowers a-blowing and fruits a glowing. It was a city with gates impregnable; but void and still, without a voice or a cheering inhabitant. The owl hooted in its quarters; the bird skimmed circling over its squares and the raven croaked in its great thoroughfares weeping and bewailing the dwellers who erst made it their dwelling.3 The Emir stood awhile, marvelling and sorrowing for the desolation of the city and saying, Glory to Him whom nor ages nor changes nor times can blight, Him who created all things of His Might!” Presently, he chanced to look aside and caught sight of seven tablets of white marble afar off. So he drew near them and finding inscriptions graven thereon, called the Shaykh and bade him read these. Accordingly he came forward and, examining the inscriptions, found that they contained matter of admonition and warning and instances and restraint to those of understanding. On the first tablet was inscribed, in the ancient Greek character: “O son of Adam, how heedless art thou of that which is before thee! Verily, thy years and months and days have diverted thee therefrom. Knowest thou not that the cup of death is filled for thy bane which in a little while to the dregs thou shalt drain? Look to thy doom ere thou enter thy tomb. Where be the Kings who held dominion over the lands and abased Allah’s servants and built these palaces and had armies under their commands? By Allah, the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies and the Devastator of dwelling-places came down upon them and transported them from the spaciousness of their palaces to the staitness of their burial-places.” And at the foot of the tablet were written the following verses,
“Where are the Kings earth-peopling, where are they?
The built and peopled left they e’er and aye!
They’re tombed yet pledged to actions past away
And after death upon them came decay.
Where are their troops? They failed to ward and guard!
Where are the wealth and hoards in treasuries lay?
Th’ Empyrean’s Lord surprised them with one word,
Nor wealth nor refuge could their doom delay!”
When the Emir heard this, he cried out and the tears ran down his cheeks and he exclaimed, “By Allah, from the world abstaining is the wisest course and the sole assaining!” And he called for pen-case and paper and wrote down what was graven on the first tablet. Then he drew near the second tablet and found these words graven thereon, “O son of Adam, what hath seduced thee from the service of the Ancient of Days and made thee forget that one day thou must defray the debt of death? Wottest thou not that it is a transient dwelling wherein for none there is abiding; and yet thou taketh thought unto the world and cleaves” fast thereto? Where be the kings who Irak peopled and the four quarters of the globe possessed? Where be they who abode in Ispahan and the land of Khorasan? The voice of the Summoner of Death summoned them and they answered him, and the Herald of Destruction hailed them and they replied, Here are we! Verily, that which they builded and fortified profited them naught; neither did what they had gathered and provided avail for their defence.” And at the foot of the tablet were graven the following verses,
Where be the men who built and fortified
High places never man their like espied?
In fear of Fate they levied troops and hosts,
Availing naught when came the time and tide,
Where be the Kisrás homed in strongest walls?
As though they ne’er had been from home they tried!”
The Emir Musa wept and exclaimed, “By Allah, we are indeed created for a grave matter!” Then he copied the inscription and passed on to the third tablet — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A fancy sea from the Lat. “Carcer” (?).
2 Andalusian = Spanish, the Vandal-land, a term accepted by the Moslem invader.
3 This fine description will remind the traveller of the old Haurani towns deserted since the sixth century, which a silly writer miscalled the “Giant Cities of Bashan.” I have never seen anything weirder than a moonlight night in one of these strong places whose masonry is perfect as when first built, the snowy light pouring on the jet-black basalt and the breeze sighing and the jackal wailing in the desert around.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Emir Musa passed on to the third tablet, whereon was written, “O son of Adam, the things of this world thou lovest and prizest and the hest of thy Lord thou spurnest and despisest. All the days of thy life pass by and thou art content thus to aby. Make ready thy viaticum against the day appointed for thee to see and prepare to answer the Lord of every creature that be!” And at the foot were written these verses,
“Where is the wight who peopled in the past
Hind land and Sind; and there the tyrant played?
Who Zanj1 and Habash bound beneath his yoke,
And Nubia curbed and low its puissance laid.
Look not for news of what is in his grave.
Ah, he is far who can thy vision aid!
The stroke of death fell on him sharp and sure;
Nor saved him palace, nor the lands he swayed.”
At this Musa wept with sore weeping and, going on to the fourth tablet, he read inscribed thereon, “O son of Adam, how long shall thy Lord bear with thee and thou every day sunken in the sea of thy folly? Hath it then been stablished unto thee that some day thou shalt not die? O son of Adam, let not the deceits of thy days and nights and times and hours delude thee with their delights; but remember that death lieth ready for thee ambushing, fain on thy shoulders to spring, nor doth a day pass but he morneth with thee in the morning and nighteth with thee by night. Beware, then, of his onslaught and make provision there-against. As was with me, so it is with thee; thou wastest thy whole life and squanderest the joys in which thy days are rife. Hearken, therefore, to my words and put thy trust in the Lord of Lords; for in the world there is no stability; it is but as a spider’s web to thee.” And at the foot of the tablet were written these couplets,
“Where is the man who did those labours ply
And based and built and reared these walls on high?
Where be the castles’ lords? Who therein dwelt
Fared forth and left them in decay to lie.
All are entombed, in pledge against the day
When every sin shall show to every eye.
None but the Lord Most High endurance hath,
Whose Might and Majesty shall never die.”
When the Emir read this, he swooned away and presently coming to himself marvelled exceedingly and wrote it down. Then he drew near the fifth tablet and behold, thereon was graven, “O son of Adam, what is it that distracteth thee from obedience of thy Creator and the Author of thy being, Him who reared thee whenas thou west a little one, and fed thee whenas thou west full-grown? Thou art ungrateful for His bounty, albeit He watcheth over thee with His favours, letting down the curtain of His protection over thee. Needs must there be for thee an hour bitterer than aloes and hotter than live coals. Provide thee, therefore, against it; for who shall sweeten its gall or quench its fires? Bethink thee who forewent thee of peoples and heroes and take warning by them, ere thou perish.” And at the foot of the tablet were graven these couplets,
“Where be the Earth-kings who from where they ‘bode,
Sped and to grave yards with their hoardings yode:
Erst on their mounting-days there hadst beheld
Hosts that concealed the ground whereon they rode:
How many a king they humbled in their day!
How many a host they led and laid on load!
But from th’ Empyrean’s Lord in haste there came
One word, and joy waxed grief ere morning glowed.”
The Emir marvelled at this and wrote it down; after which he passed on to the sixth tablet and behold, was inscribed thereon, “O son of Adam, think not that safety will endure for ever and aye, seeing that death is sealed to thy head alway. Where be thy fathers, where be thy brethren, where thy friends and dear ones? They have all gone to the dust of the tombs and presented themselves before the Glorious, the Forgiving, as if they had never eaten nor drunken, and they are a pledge for that which they have earned. So look to thyself, ere thy tomb come upon thee.” And at the foot of the tablet were these couplets,
“Where be the Kings who ruled the Franks of old?
Where be the King who peopled Tingis-wold2?
Their works are written in a book which He,
The One, th’ All-father shall as witness hold.”
At this the Emir Musa marvelled and wrote it down, saying, “There is no god but the God! Indeed, how goodly were these folk!” Then he went up to the seventh tablet and behold, thereon was written, “Glory to Him who fore-ordaineth death to all He createth, the Living One, who dieth not! O son of Adam, let not thy days and their delights delude thee, neither thine hours and the delices of their time, and know that death to thee cometh and upon thy shoulder sitteth. Beware, then, of his assault and make ready for his onslaught. As it was with me, so it is with thee; thou wastest the sweet of thy life and the joyance of thine hours. Give ear, then, to my rede and put thy trust in the Lord of Lords and know that in the world is no stability, but it is as it were a spider’s web to thee and all that is therein shall die and cease to be. Where is he who laid the foundation of Amid3 and builded it and builded Fárikín 4 and exalted it? Where be the peoples of the strong places? Whenas them they had inhabited, after their might into the tombs they descended. They have been carried off by death and we shall in like manner be afflicted by doom. None abideth save Allah the Most High, for He is Allah the Forgiving One.” The Emir Musa wept and copied all this, and indeed the world was belittled in his eyes. Then he descended the hill and rejoined his host, with whom he passed the rest of tile day, casting about for a means of access to the city. And he said to his Wazir Talib bin Sahl and to the chief officers about him, “How shall we contrive to enter this city and view its marvels?: haply we shall find therein wherewithal to win the favour of the Commander of the Faithful.” “Allah prolong the Emir’s fortune!” replied Talib, “let us make a ladder and mount the wall therewith, so peradventure we may come at the gate from within.” Quoth the Emir, “This is what occurred to my thought also, and admirable is the advice!” Then he called for carpenters and blacksmiths and bade them fashion wood and build a ladder plated and banded with iron. So they made a strong ladder and many men wrought at it a whole month. Then all the company laid hold of it and set it up against the wall, and it reached the top as truly as if it had been built for it before that time. The Emir marvelled and said, “The blessing of Allah be upon you. It seems as though ye had taken the measure of the mure, so excellent is your work.” Then said he to his men, “Which of you will mount the ladder and walk along the wall and cast about for a way of descending into the city, so to see how the case stands and let us know how we may open the gate?” Whereupon quoth one of them, “I will go up, O Emir, and descend and open to you”; and Musa answered, saying, “Go and the blessing of Allah go with thee!” So the man mounted the ladder; but, when he came to the top of the wall, he stood up and gazed fixedly down into the city, then clapped his hands and crying out, at the top of his voice, “By Allah, thou art fair!” cast himself down into the place, and Musa cried, “By Allah, he is a dead man!” But another came up to him and said, “O Emir, this was a madman and doubtless his madness got the better of him and destroyed him. I will go up and open the gate to you, if it be the will of Allah the Most High.” “Go up,” replied Musa, “and Allah be with thee! But beware lest thou lose thy head, even as did thy comrade.” Then the man mounted the ladder, but no sooner had he reached the top of the wall than he laughed aloud, saying, “Well done! well done!”; and clapping palms cast himself down into the city and died forthright. When the Emir saw this, he said, “An such be the action of a reasonable man, what is that of the madman? If all our men do on this wise, we shall have none left and shall fail of our errand and that of the Commander of the Faithful. Get ye ready for the march: verily we have no concern with this city.” But a third one of the company said, “Haply another may be steadier than they.” So a third mounted the wall and a fourth and a fifth and all cried out and cast themselves down, even as did the first, nor did they leave to do thus, till a dozen had perished in like fashion. Then the Shaykh Abd al-Samad came forward and heartened himself and said, “This affair is reserved to none other than myself; for the experienced is not like the inexperienced.” Quoth the Emir, “Indeed thou shalt not do that nor will I have thee go up: an thou perish, we shall all be cut off to the last man since thou art our guide.” But he answered, saying, “Peradventure, that which we seek may be accomplished at my hands, by the grace of God Most High!” So the folk all agreed to let him mount the ladder, and he arose and heartening himself, said, “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate!” and mounted the ladder, calling on the name of the Lord and reciting the Verses of Safety.5 When he reached the top of the wall, he clapped his hands and gazed fixedly down into the city; whereupon the folk below cried out to him with one accord, saying “O Shaykh Abd al-Samad, for the Lord’s sake, cast not thyself down!”; and they added, “Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning! If the Shaykh fall, we are dead men one and all.” Then he laughed beyond all measure and sat a long hour, reciting the names of Allah Almighty and repeating the Verses of Safety; then he rose arid cried out at the top of his voice, saying, O Emir, have no fear; no hurt shall betide you, for Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) hath averted from me the wiles and malice of Satan, by the blessing of the words, ‘In the name of Allah the Compassionating the Compassionate!’” Asked Musa, “What didst thou see, O Shaykh?”; and Abd al-Samad answered, “I saw ten maidens, as they were Houris of Heaven calling to me with their hands”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “Zanj,” I have said, is the Arab. form of the Persian “Zang-bar” (=Black-land), our Zanzibar. Those who would know more of the etymology will consult my “Zanzibar,” etc., chaps. i.
2 Arab. “Tanjah”=Strabo {Greek letters} (derivation uncertain), Tingitania, Tangiers. But why the terminal s?
3 Or Amidah, by the Turks called “Kara (black) Amid” from the colour of the stones and the Arabs “Diyar-bakr” (Diarbekir), a name which they also give to the whole province — Mesopotamia.
4 Mayyáfárikín, an episcopal city in Diyar-bakr: the natives are called Fárikí; hence the abbreviation in the text.
5 Arab. “Ayát al-Naját,” certain Koranic verses which act as talismans, such as, “And wherefore should we not put our trust in Allah?” (xiv. 15); “Say thou, ‘Naught shall befall us save what Allah hath decreed for us,’ “ (ix. 51), and sundry others.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Shaykh Abd al-Samad answered, “I saw ten maidens like Houris of Heaven,1 and they calling and signing, 2 ‘Come hither to us’; and meseemed there was below me a lake of water. So I thought to throw myself down, when behold, I espied my twelve companions lying dead; so I restrained myself and recited somewhat of Allah’s Book, whereupon He dispelled from me the damsels’ witchlike wiles and malicious guiles and they disappeared. And doubtless this was an enchantment devised by the people of the city, to repel any who should seek to gaze upon or to enter the place. And it hath succeeded in slaying our companions.” Then he walked on along the wall, till he came to the two towers of brass aforesaid and saw therein two gates of gold, without pad locks or visible means of opening. Hereat he paused as long as Allah pleased3 and gazed about him awhile, till he espied in the middle of one of the gates, a horseman of brass with hand outstretched as if pointing, and in his palm was somewhat written. So he went up to it and read these words, “O thou who comest to this place, an thou wouldst enter turn the pin in my navel twelve times and the gate will open.” Accordingly, he examined the horseman and finding in his navel a pin of gold, firm-set and fast fixed, he turned it twelve times, whereupon the horseman revolved like the blinding lightning and the gate swung open with a noise like thunder. He entered and found himself in a long passage,4 which brought him down some steps into a guard-room furnished with goodly wooden benches, whereon sat men dead, over whose heads hung fine shields and keen blades and bent bows and shafts ready notched. Thence, he came to the main gate of the city; and, finding it secured with iron bars and curiously wrought locks and bolts and chains and other fastenings of wood and metal, said to himself, “Belike the keys are with yonder dead folk.” So he turned back to the guard-room and seeing amongst the dead an old man seated upon a high wooden bench, who seemed the chiefest of them, said in his mind, “Who knows but they are with this Shaykh? Doubtless he was the warder of the city and these others were under his hand.” So he went up to him and lifting his gown, behold, the keys were hanging to his girdle; whereat he joyed with exceeding joy and was like to fly for gladness. Then he took them and going up to the portal, undid the padlocks and drew back the bolts and bars, whereupon the great leaves flew open with a crash like the pealing thunder by reason of its greatness and terribleness. At this he cried out saying, “Allaho Akbar — God is most great!” And the folk without answered him with the same words, rejoicing and thanking him for his deed. The Emir Musa also was delighted at the Shaykh’s safety and the opening of the city-gate, and the troops all pressed forward to enter; but Musa cried out to them, saying, “O folk, if we all go in at once we shall not be safe from some ill-chance which may betide us. Let half enter and other half tarry without.” So he pushed forwards with half his men, bearing their weapons of war, and finding their comrades lying dead, they buried them; and they saw the doorkeepers and eunuchs and chamberlains and officers reclining on couches of silk and all were corpses. Then they fared on till they came to the chief market-place, full of lofty buildings whereof none overpassed the others, and found all its shops open, with the scales hung out and the brazen vessels ordered and the caravanserais full of all manner goods; and they beheld the merchants sitting on the shop-boards dead, with shrivelled skin and rotted bones, a warning to those who can take warning; and here they saw four separate markets all replete with wealth. Then they left the great bazar and went on till they came to the silk market, where they found silks and brocades, orfrayed with red gold and diapered with white silver upon all manner of colours, and the owners lying dead upon mats of scented goats’ leather, and looking as if they would speak; after which they traversed the market-street of pearls and rubies and other jewels and came to that of the schroffs and money-changers, whom they saw sitting dead upon carpets of raw silk and dyed stuffs in shops full of gold and silver. Thence they passed to the perfumers’ bazar where they found the shops filled with drugs of all kinds and bladders of musk and ambergris and Nadd-scent and camphor and other perfumes, in vessels of ivory and ebony and Khalanj-wood and Andalusian copper, the which is equal in value to gold; and various kinds of rattan and Indian cane; but the shopkeepers all lay dead nor was there with them aught of food. And hard by this drug-market they came upon a palace, imposingly edified and magnificently decorated; so they entered and found therein banners displayed and drawn sword blades and strung bows and bucklers hanging by chains of gold and silver and helmets gilded with red gold. In the vestibules stood benches of ivory, plated with glittering gold and covered with silken stuffs, whereon lay men, whose skin had dried up on their bones; the fool had deemed them sleeping; but, for lack of food, they had perished and tasted the cup of death. Now when the Emir Musa saw this, he stood still, glorifying Allah the Most High and hallowing Him and contemplating the beauty of the palace and the massiveness of its masonry and fair perfection of its ordinance, for it was builded after the goodliest and stablest fashion and the most part of its adornment was of green5 lapis-lazuli, and on the inner door, which stood open, were written in characters of gold and ultramarine, these couplets,
“Consider thou, O man, what these places to thee showed
And be upon thy guard ere thou travel the same road:
And prepare thee good provision some day may serve thy turn
For each dweller in the house needs must yede wi’ those who yode
Consider how this people their palaces adorned
And in dust have been pledged for the seed of acts they sowed
They built but their building availed them not, and hoards
Nor saved their lives nor day of Destiny forslowed:
How often did they hope for what things were undecreed.
And passed unto their tombs before Hope the bounty showed
And from high and awful state all a sudden they were sent
To the straitness of the grave and oh! base is their abode:
Then came to them a Crier after burial and cried,
What booted thrones or crowns or the gold to you bestowed:
Where now are gone the faces hid by curtain and by veil,
Whose charms were told in proverbs, those beauties à-la-mode?
The tombs aloud reply to the questioners and cry,
‘Death’s canker and decay those rosy cheeks corrode’
Long time they ate and drank, but their joyaunce had a term,
And the eater eke was eaten, and was eaten by the worm.”
When the Emir read this, he wept, till he was like to swoon away — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These were the “Brides of the Treasure,” alluded to in the story of Hasan of Bassorah and elsewhere.
2 Arab. “Ishárah,” which may also mean beckoning. Easterns reverse our process: we wave hand or finger towards ourselves; they towards the object; and our fashion represents to them, Go away!
3 i.e. musing a long time and a longsome.
4 Arab. “Dihlíz” from the Persian. This is the long dark passage which leads to the inner or main gate of an Eastern city, and which is built up before a siege. It is usually furnished with Mastabah-benches of wood and masonry, and forms a favourite lounge in hot weather. Hence Lot and Moses sat and stood in the gate, and here man speaks with his enemies.
5 The names of colours are as loosely used by the Arabs as by the Classics of Europe; for instance, a light grey is called a “blue or a green horse.” Much nonsense has been written upon the colours in Homer by men who imagine that the semi-civilised determine tints as we do. They see them but they do not name them, having no occasion for the words. As I have noticed, however, the Arabs have a complete terminology for the varieties of horse-hues. In our day we have witnessed the birth of colours, named by the dozen, because required by women’s dress.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Emir wept till he was like to swoon away, and bade write down the verses, after which he passed on into the inner palace and came to a vast hall, at each of whose four corners stood a pavilion lofty and spacious, washed with gold and silver and painted in various colours. In the heart of the hall was a great jetting-fountain of alabaster, surmounted by a canopy of brocade, and in each pavilion was a sitting-place and each place had its richly-wrought fountain and tank paved with marble and streams flowing in channels along the floor and meeting in a great and grand cistern of many-coloured marbles. Quoth the Emir to the Shaykh Abd al-Samad, “Come let us visit yonder pavilion!” So they entered the first and found it full of gold and silver and pearls and jacinths and other precious stones and metals, besides chests filled with brocades, red and yellow and white. Then they repaired to the second pavilion, and, opening a closet there, found it full of arms and armour, such as gilded helmets and Davidean1 hauberks and Hindi swords and Arabian spears and Chorasmian2 maces and other gear of fight and fray. Thence they passed to the third pavilion, wherein they saw closets padlocked and covered with curtains wrought with all manner of embroidery. They opened one of these and found it full of weapons curiously adorned with open work and with gold and silver damascene and jewels. Then they entered the fourth pavilion, and opening one of the closets there, beheld in it great store of eating and drinking vessels of gold and silver, with platters of crystal and goblets set with fine pearls and cups of carnelian and so forth. So they all fell to taking that which suited their tastes and each of the soldiers carried off what he could. When they left the pavilions, they saw in the midst of the palace a door of teak-wood marquetried with ivory and ebony and plated with glittering gold, over which hung a silken curtain purfled with all manner of embroideries; and on this door were locks of white silver, that opened by artifice without a key. The Shaykh Abd al-Samad went valiantly up thereto and by the aid of his knowledge and skill opened the locks, whereupon the door admitted them into a corridor paved with marble and hung with veil-like3 tapestries embroidered with figures of all manner beasts and birds, whose bodies were of red gold and white silver and their eyes of pearls and rubies, amazing all who looked upon them. Passing onwards they came to a saloon builded all of polished marble, inlaid with jewels, which seemed to the beholder as though the floor were flowing water4 and whoso walked thereon slipped. The Emir bade the Shaykh strew somewhat upon it, that they might walk over it; which being done, they made shift to fare forwards till they came to a great domed pavilion of stone, gilded with red gold and crowned with a cupola of alabaster, about which were set lattice-windows carved and jewelled with rods of emerald,5 beyond the competence of any King. Under this dome was a canopy of brocede, reposing upon pillars of red gold and wrought with figures of birds whose feet were of smaragd, and beneath each bird was a network of fresh-hued pearls. The canopy was spread above a jetting fountain of ivory and carnelian, plated with glittering gold and thereby stood a couch set with pearls and rubies and other jewels and beside the couch a pillar of gold. On the capital of the column stood a bird fashioned of red rubies and holding in his bill a pearl which shone like a star; and on the couch lay a damsel, as she were the lucident sun, eyes never saw a fairer. She wore a tight-fitting body-robe of fine pearls, with a crown of red gold on her head, filleted with gems, and on her forehead were two great jewels, whose light was as the light of the sun. On her breast she wore a jewelled amulet, filled with musk and ambergris and worth the empire of the Caesars; and around her neck hung a collar of rubies and great pearls, hollowed and filled with odoriferous musk And it seemed as if she gazed on them to the right and to the left. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 For David’s miracles of metallurgy see vol. i. 286.
2 Arab. “Khwárazm,” the land of the Chorasmioi, who are mentioned by Herodotus (iii. 93) and a host of classical geographers. They place it in Sogdiana (hod. Sughd) and it corresponds with the Khiva country.
3 Arab. “Burka’,” usually applied to a woman’s face-veil and hence to the covering of the Ka’abah, which is the “Bride of Meccah.”
4 Alluding to the trick played upon Bilkís by Solomon who had heard that her legs were hairy like those of an ass: he laid down a pavement of glass over flowing water in which fish were swimming and thus she raised her skirts as she approached him and he saw that the report was true. Hence, as I have said, the depilatory.
5 I understand the curiously carved windows cut in arabesque-work of marble. (India) or basalt (the Haurán) and provided with small panes of glass set in emeralds where tin would be used by the vulgar.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel seemed to be gazing at the folk to the right and to the left. The Emir Musa marvelled at her exceeding beauty and was confounded at the blackness of her hair and the redness of her cheeks, which made the beholder deem her alive and not dead, and said to her, “Peace be with thee, O damsel!” But Talib ibn Sahl said to him, “Allah preserve thee, O Emir, verily this damsel is dead and there is no life in her; so how shall she return thy salam?” adding, ‘ Indeed, she is but a corpse embalmed with exceeding art; her eyes were taken out after her death and quicksilver set under them, after which they were restored to their sockets. Wherefore they glisten and when the air moveth the lashes, she seemeth to wink and it appeareth to the beholder as though she looked at him, for all she is dead.” At this the Emir marvelled beyond measure and said, “Glory be to God who subjugateth His creatures to the dominion of Death!” Now the couch on which the damsel lay, had steps, and thereon stood two statues of Andalusian copper representing slaves, one white and the other black. The first held a mace of steel1 and the second a sword of watered steel which dazzled the eye; and between them, on one of the steps of the couch, lay a golden tablet, whereon were written, in characters of white silver, the following words: “In the name of God, the Compassionating, the Compassionate! Praise be to Allah, the Creator of mankind; and He is the Lord of Lords, the Causer of Causes! In the name of Allah, the Never beginning, the Everlasting, the Ordainer of Fate and Fortune! O son of Adam! what hath befooled thee in this long esperance? What hath unminded thee of the Death-day’s mischance? Knowest thou not that Death calleth for thee and hasteneth to seize upon the soul of thee? Be ready, therefore, for the way and provide thee for thy departure from the world; for, assuredly, thou shalt leave it without delay. Where is Adam, first of humanity? Where is Noah with his progeny? Where be the Kings of Hind and Irak-plain and they who over earth’s widest regions reign? Where do the Amalekites abide and the giants and tyrants of olden tide? Indeed, the dwelling-places are void of them and they have departed from kindred and home. Where be the Kings of Arab and Ajam? They are dead, all of them, and gone and are become rotten bones. Where be the lords so high in stead? They are all done dead. Where are Kora and Haman? Where is Shaddad son of Ad? Where be Canaan and Zu‘l-Autad,2 Lord of the Stakes? By Allah, the Reaper of lives hath reaped them and made void the lands of them. Did they provide them against the Day of Resurrection or make ready to answer the Lord of men? O thou, if thou know me not, I will acquaint thee with my name: I am Tadmurah,3 daughter of the Kings of the Amalekites, of those who held dominion over the lands in equity and brought low the necks of humanity. I possessed that which never King possessed and was righteous in my rule and did justice among my lieges; yea, I gave gifts and largesse and freed bondsmen and bondswomen. Thus lived I many years in all ease and delight of life, till Death knocked at my door and to me and to my folk befel calamities galore; and it was on this wise. There betided us seven successive years of drought, wherein no drop of rain fell on us from the skies and no green thing sprouted for us on the face of earth.4 So we ate what was with us of victual, then we fell upon the cattle and devoured them, until nothing was left. Thereupon I let bring my treasures and meted them with measures and sent out trusty men to buy food. They circuited all the lands in quest thereof and left no city unsought, but found it not to be bought and returned to us with the treasure after a long absence; and gave us to know that they could not succeed in bartering fine pearls for poor wheat, bushel for bushel, weight for weight. So, when we despaired of succour, we displayed all our riches and things of price and, shutting the gates of the city and its strong places, resigned ourselves to the deme of our Lord and committed our case to our King. Then we all died,5 as thou seest us, and left what we had builded and all we had hoarded. This, then, is our story, and after the substance naught abideth but the trace.” Then they looked at the foot of the tablet and read these couplets,
“O child of Adam, let not hope make mock and flyte at thee,
Prom all thy hands have treasuréd, removéd thou shalt be;
I see thou covetest the world and fleeting worldly charms,
And races past and gone have done the same as thou I see.
Lawful and lawless wealth they got; but all their hoarded store,
Their term accomplished, naught delayed of Destiny’s decree.
Armies they led and puissant men and gained them gold galore;
Then left their wealth and palaces by Pate compelled to flee,
To straitness of the grave-yard and humble bed of dust
Whence, pledged for every word and deed, they never more win free:
As a company of travellers had unloaded in the night
At house that lacketh food nor is o’erfain of company:
Whose owner saith, ‘O folk, there be no lodging here for you;’
So packed they who had erst unpacked and faréd hurriedly:
Misliking much the march, nor the journey nor the halt
Had aught of pleasant chances or had aught of goodly greet
Then prepare thou good provision for to-morrow’s journey stored,
Naught but righteous honest life shall avail thee with the Lord!”
And the Emir Musa wept as he read, “By Allah, the fear of the Lord is the best of all property, the pillar of certainty and the sole sure stay. Verily, Death is the truth manifest and the sure behest, and therein, O thou, is the goal and return place evident. Take warning, therefore, by those who to the dust did wend and hastened on the way of the predestined end. Seest thou not that hoary hairs summon thee to the tomb and that the whiteness of thy locks maketh moan of thy doom? Wherefore be thou on the wake ready for thy departure and thine account to make. O son of Adam, what hath hardened thy heart in mode abhorred? What hath seduced thee from the service of thy Lord? Where be the peoples of old time? They are a warning to whoso will be warned! Where be the Kings of al-Sín and the lords of majestic mien? Where is Shaddad bin Ad and whatso he built and he stablished? Where is Nimrod who revolted against Allah and defied Him? Where is Pharaoh who rebelled against God and denied Him? Death followed hard upon the trail of them all, and laid them low sparing neither great nor small, male nor female; and the Reaper of Mankind cut them off, yea, by Him who maketh night to return upon day! Know, O thou who comest to this place, that she whom thou seest here was not deluded by the world and its frail delights, for it is faithless, perfidious, a house of ruin, vain and treacherous; and salutary to the creature is the remembrance of his sins; wherefore she feared her Lord and made fair her dealings and provided herself with provaunt against the appointed marching day. Whoso cometh to our city and Allah vouchsafeth him competence to enter it, let him take of the treasure all he can, but touch not aught that is on my body, for it is the covering of my shame6 and the outfit for the last journey; wherefore let him fear Allah and despoil naught thereof; else will he destroy his own self. This have I set forth to him for a warning from me and a solemn trust to be; wherewith, peace be with ye and I pray Allah to keep you from sickness and calamity.” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Bulád” from the Pers. “Pulád.” Hence the name of the famous Druze family “Jumblat,” a corruption of “Ján- pulád”=Life o’ Steel.
2 Pharaoh, so called in Koran (xxxviii. 11) because he tortured men by fastening them to four stakes driven into the ground. Sale translates “the contriver of the stakes” and adds, “Some understand the word figuratively, of the firm establishment of Pharaoh’s kingdom, because the Arabs fix their tents with stakes; but they may possibly intend that prince’s obstinacy and hardness of heart.” I may note that in “Tasawwuf,” or Moslem Gnosticism, Pharaoh represents, like Prometheus and Job, the typical creature who upholds his own dignity and rights in presence and despight of the Creator. Sáhib the Súfí declares that the secret of man’s soul (i.e. its emanation) was first revealed when Pharaoh declared himself god; and Al–Ghazálí sees in his claim the most noble aspiration to the divine, innate in the human spirit. (Dabistan, vol. iii.)
3 In the Calc. Edit. “Tarmuz, son of the daughter,” etc. According to the Arabs Tadmur (Palmyra) was built by Queen Tadmurah, daughter of Hassán bin Uzaynah.
4 It is only by some such drought that I can account for the survival of those marvellous Haurani cities in the great valley S. E. of Damascus.
5 So Moses described his own death and burial.
6 A man’s “aurat” (shame) extends from the navel (included) to his knees, a woman’s from the top of the head to the tips of her toes. I have before noticed the Hindostaní application of the word.
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Emir Musa read this, he wept with exceeding weeping till he swooned away and presently coming to himself, wrote down all he had seen and was admonished by all he had witnessed. Then he said to his men, “Fetch the camels and load them with these treasures and vases and jewels.” “O Emir,” asked Talib, “shall we leave our damsel with what is upon her, things which have no equal and whose like is not to be found and more perfect than aught else thou takest; nor couldst thou find a goodlier offering wherewithal to propitiate the favour of the Commander of the Faithful?” But Musa answered, “O man, heardest thou not what the Lady saith on this tablet? More by token that she giveth it in trust to us who are no traitors.” “And shall we,” rejoined the Wazir Talib, “because of these words, leave all these riches and jewels, seeing that she is dead? What should she do with these that are the adornments of the world and the ornament of the worldling, seeing that one garment of cotton would suffice for her covering? We have more right to them than she.” So saying he mounted the steps of the couch between the pillars, but when he came within reach of the two slaves, lo! the mace-bearer smote him on the back and the other struck him with the sword he held in his hand and lopped off his head, and he dropped down dead. Quoth the Emir, “Allah have no mercy on thy resting-place! Indeed there was enough in these treasures, and greed of gain assuredly degradeth a man.” Then he bade admit the troops; so they entered and loaded the camels with those treasures and precious ores; after which they went forth and the Emir commanded them to shut the gate as before. They fared on along the sea-shore a whole month, till they came in sight of a high mountain overlooking the sea and full of caves, wherein dwelt a tribe of blacks, clad in hides, with burnooses also of hide and speaking an unknown tongue. When they saw the troops they were startled like shying steeds and fled into the caverns, whilst their women and children stood at the cave doors, looking on the strangers. “O Shaykh Abd al-Samad,” asked the Emir, “what are these folk?” and he answered, “They are those whom we seek for the Commander of the Faithful.” So they dismounted and setting down their loads, pitched their tents; whereupon, almost before they had done, down came the King of the blacks from the mountain and drew near the camp. Now he understood the Arabic tongue; so, when he came to the Emir he saluted him with the salam and Musa returned his greeting and entreated him with honour. Then quoth he to the Emir, “Are ye men or Jinn?” “Well, we are men,” quoth Musa; “but doubtless ye are Jinn, to judge by your dwelling apart in this mountain which is cut off from mankind, and by your inordinate bulk.” “Nay,” rejoined the black; “we also are children of Adam, of the lineage of Ham, son of Noah (with whom be peace!), and this sea is known as Al–Karkar.” Asked Musa, “O King, what is your religion and what worship ye?”; and he answered, saying, “We worship the God of the heavens and our religion is that of Mohammed, whom Allah bless and preserve!” “And how came ye by the knowledge of this,” questioned the Emir, “seeing that no prophet was inspired to visit this country?” “Know, Emir,” replied the King, “that there appeared to us whilere from out the sea a man, from whom issued a light that illumined the horizons and he cried out, in a voice which was heard of men far and near, saying, ‘O children of Ham, reverence to Him who seeth and is not seen and say ye, ‘There is no god but the God, and Mohammed is the messenger of God!’ And he added, ‘I am Abu al-Abbás al-Khizr.’ Before this we were wont to worship one another, but he summoned us to the service of the Lord of all creatures; and he taught us to repeat these words, ‘There is no god save the God alone, who hath for partner none, and His is the kingdom and His is the praise. He giveth life and death and He over all things is Almighty.’ Nor do we draw near unto Allah (be He exalted and extolled!) except with these words, for we know none other; but every eve before Friday1 we see a light upon the face of earth and we hear a voice saying, ‘Holy and glorious, Lord of the Angels and the Spirit! What He willeth is, and what He willeth not, is not. Every boon is of His grace and there is neither Majesty nor is there Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!’ But ye,” quoth the King, “who and what are ye and what bringeth you to this land?” Quoth Musa, “We are officers of the Sovereign of Al–Islam, the Commander of the Faithful, Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, who hath heard tell of the lord Solomon, son of David (on whom be peace!) and of that which the Most High bestowed upon him of supreme dominion; how he held sway over Jinn and beast and bird and was wont when he was wroth with one of the Marids, to shut him in a cucurbite of brass and, stopping its mouth on him with lead, whereon he impressed his seal ring, to cast him into the sea of Al–Karkar. Now we have heard tell that this sea is nigh your land; so the Commander of the Faithful hath sent us hither, to bring him some of these cucurbites, that he may look thereon and solace himself with their sight. Such, then, is our case and what we seek of thee, O King, and we desire that thou further us in the accomplishment of our errand commanded by the Commander of the Faithful.” “With love and gladness,” replied the black King, and carrying them to the guest house, entreated them with the utmost honour and furnished them with all they needed, feeding them upon fish. They abode thus three days, when he bade his divers fetch from out the sea some of the vessels of Solomon. So they dived and brought up twelve cucurbites, whereat the Emir and the Shaykh and all the company rejoiced in the accomplishment of the Caliph’s need. Then Musa gave the King of the blacks many and great gifts; and he, in turn, made him a present Of the wonders of the deep, being fishes in human form,2 saying “Your entertainment these three days hath been of the meat of these fish.” Quoth the Emir, “Needs must we carry some of these to the Caliph, for the sight of them will please him more than the cucurbites of Solomon.” Then they took leave of the black King and, setting out on their homeward journey, travelled till they came to Damascus, where Musa went in to the Commander of the Faithful and told him all that he had sighted and heard of verses and legends and instances, together with the manner of the death of Talib bin Sahl; and the Caliph said, “Would I had been with you, that I might have seen what you saw!” Then he took the brazen vessels and opened them, cucurbite after cucurbite, whereupon the devils came forth of them, saying, “We repent, O Prophet of Allah! Never again will we return to the like of this thing; no never!” And the Caliph marvelled at this. As for the daughters of the deep presented to them by the black King, they made them cisterns of planks, full of water, and laid them therein; but they died of the great heat. Then the Caliph sent for the spoils of the Brazen City and divided them among the Faithful — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 Arab. “Jum’ah” ( = the assembly) so called because the General Resurrection will take place on that day and it witnessed the creation of Adam. Both these reasons are evidently after-thoughts; as the Jews received a divine order to keep Saturday, and the Christians, at their own sweet will, transferred the weekly rest-day to Sunday, wherefore the Moslem preferred Friday. Sabbatarianism, however, is unknown to Al–Islam and business is interrupted, by Koranic order ([xii. 9–10), only during congregational prayers in the Mosque. The most a Mohammedan does is not to work or travel till after public service. But the Moslem hardly wants a “day of rest;” whereas a Christian, especially in the desperately dull routine of daily life and toil, without a gleam of light to break the darkness of his civilised and most unhappy existence, disctinctly requires it.
2 Mankind, which sees itself everywhere and in everything, must create its own analogues in all the elements, air (Sylphs), fire (Jinns), water (Mermen and Mermaids) and earth (Kobolds), These merwomen were of course seals or manatees, as the wild women of Hanno were gorillas.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph marvelled much at the cucurbites and their contents; then he sent for the spoils and divided them among the Faithful, saying, “Never gave Allah unto any the like of that which he bestowed upon Solomon David-son!” Thereupon the Emir Musa sought leave of him to appoint his son Governor of the Province in his stead, that he might be take himself to the Holy City of Jerusalem, there to worship Allah. So the Commander of the Faithful invested his son Harun with the government and Musa repaired to the Glorious and Holy City, where he died. This, then, is all that hath come down to us of the story of the City of Brass, and God is All-knowing! Now (continued Shahrazad) I have another tale to tell anent the
There was, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, a puissant King among the Kings of China, the crown of crowned heads, who ruled over many men of war and vassals with wisdom and justice, might and majesty; equitable to his Ryots, liberal to his lieges and dearly beloved by the hearts of his subjects. He was wealthy as he was powerful, but he had grown old without being blessed with a son, and this caused him sore affliction. He could only brood over the cutting off of his seed and the oblivion that would bury his name and the passing of his realm into the stranger’s hands. So he secluded himself in his palace, never going in and out or rising and taking rest till the lieges lost all tidings of him and were sore perplexed and began to talk about their King. Some said, “He’s dead”; others said, “No, he’s not”; but all resolved to find a ruler who could reign over them and carry out the customs of government. At last, utterly despairing of male issue, he sought the intercession of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and keep!) with the Most High and implored Him, by the glory of His Prophets and Saints and Martyrs and others of the Faithful who were acceptable to Heaven that he would grant him a son, to be the coolth of his eyes and heir to the kingdom after him. Then he rose forthright and, withdrawing to his sitting-saloon, sent for his wife who was the daughter of his uncle. Now this Queen was of surpassing beauty and loveliness, the fairest of all his wives and the dearest to him as she was the nearest: and to boot a woman of excellent wit and passing judgement. She found the King dejected and sorrowful, tearful-eyed and heavy-hearted; so she kissed ground between his hands and said, “O King, may my life ransom thy life! may Time never prove thy foe, nor the shifts of Fortune prevail over thee; may Allah grant thee every joy and ward off from thee all annoy! How is it I see thee brooding over thy case and tormented by the displeasures of memory?” He replied, “Thou wottest well that I am a man now shotten in years, who hath never been blessed with a son, a sight to cool his eyes; so I know that my kingdom shall pass away to the stranger in blood and my name and memory will be blotted out amongst men. ’Tis this causeth me to grieve with excessive grief.” “Allah do away with thy sorrows,” quoth she: “long ere this day a thought struck me; and yearning for issue arose in my heart even as in thine. One night I dreamed a dream and a voice said to me, ‘The King thy husband pineth for progeny: if a daughter be vouchsafed to him, she will be the ruin of his realm; if a son, the youth will undergo much trouble and annoy but he will pass through it without loss of life. Such a son can be conceived by thee and thee only and the time of thy conception is when the moon conjoineth with Gemini!’ I woke from my dream, but after what I heard that voice declare I refrained from breeding and would not consent to bear children.” “There is no help for it but that I have a son, Inshallah, — God willing!” cried the King. Thereupon she soothed and consoled him till he forgot his sorrows and went forth amongst the lieges and sat, as of wont, upon his throne of estate. All rejoiced to see him once more and especially the Lords of his realm. Now when the conjunction of the moon and Gemini took place, the King knew his wife carnally and, by order of Allah Almighty she became pregnant. Presently she anounced the glad tidings to her husband and led her usual life until her nine months of pregnancy were completed and she bare a male child whose face was as the rondure of the moon on its fourteenth night. The lieges of the realm congratulated one another thereanent and the King commanded an assembly of his Olema and philosophers, astrologers and horoscopists, whom he thus addressed, “I desire you to forecast the fortune of my son and to determine his ascendant2 and whatever is shown by his nativity.” They replied “’Tis well, in Allah’s name, let us do so!” and cast his nativity with all diligence. After ascertaining his ascendant, they pronounced judgement in these words, “We see his lot favourable and his life viable and durable; save that a danger awaiteth his youth.” The father was sorely concerned at this saying, when they added “But, O King, he shall escape from it nor shall aught of injury accrue to him!” Hereupon the King cast aside all cark and care and robed the wizards and dismissed them with splendid honoraria; and he resigned himself to the will of Heaven and acknowledged that the decrees of destiny may not be countervailed. He committed his boy to wet nurses and dry nurses, handmaids and eunuchs, leaving him to grow and fill out in the Harim till he reached the age of seven. Then he addressed letters to his Viceroys and Governors in every clime and by their means gathered together Olema and philosophers and doctors of law and religion, from all countries, to a number of three hundred and three score. He held an especial assembly for them and, when all were in presence, he bade them draw near him and be at their ease while he sent for the food-trays and all ate their sufficiency. And when the banquet ended and the wizards had taken seats in their several degrees, the King asked them, “Wot ye wherefore I have gathered ye together?”; whereto all answered, “We wot not, O King!” He continued, “It is my wish that you select from amongst you fifty men, and from these fifty ten, and from these ten one, that he may teach my son omnem rem scibilem; for whenas I see the youth perfect in all science, I will share my dignity with the Prince and make him partner with me in my possessions.” “Know, O King,” they replied, “that among us none is more learned or more excellent than Al–Sindibad,3 hight the Sage, who woneth in thy capital under thy protection. If such be thy design, summon him and bid him do thy will.” The King acted upon their advice and the Sage, standing in the presence, expressed his loyal sentiments with his salutation, whereupon his Sovereign bade him draw nigh and thus raised his rank, saying, “I would have thee to know, O Sage, that I summoned this assembly of the learned and bade them choose me out a man to teach my son all knowledge; when they selected thee without dissenting thought or voice. If, then, thou feel capable of what they claimed for thee, come thou to the task and understand that a man’s son and heir is the very fruit of his vitals and core of his heart and liver. My desire of thee is thine instruction of him; and to happy issue Allah guideth!” The King then sent for his son and committed him to Al–Sindibad conditioning the Sage to finish his education in three years. He did accordingly but, at the end of that time, the young Prince had learned nothing, his mind being wholly occupied with play and disport; and when summoned and examined by his sire, behold, his knowledge was as nil. Thereupon the King turned his attention to the learned once more and bade them elect a tutor for his youth; so they asked, “And what hath his governor, Al–Sindibad, been doing?” and when the King answered, “He hath taught my son naught;” the Olema and philosophers and high officers summoned the instructor and said to him, “O Sage, what prevented thee from teaching the King’s son during this length of days?” “O wise men,” he replied, “the Prince’s mind is wholly occupied with disport and play; yet, an the King will make with me three conditions and keep to them, I will teach him in seven months what he would not learn (nor indeed could any other lesson him) within seven years.” “I hearken to thee,” quoth the King, “and I submit myself to thy conditions;” and quoth Al–Sindibad, “Hear from me, Sire, and bear in mind these three sayings, whereof the first is, ‘Do not to others what thou wouldest not they do unto thee’;4 and second, ‘Do naught hastily without consulting the experienced’; and thirdly, ‘Where thou hast power show pity.’5 In teaching this lad I require no more of thee but to accept these three dictes and adhere thereto.” Cried the King, “Bear ye witness against me, O all ye here assembled, that I stand firm by these conditions!”; and caused a proces verbal to be drawn up with his personal security and the testimony of his courtiers. Thereupon the Sage, taking the Prince’s hand, led him to his place, and the King sent them all requisites of provaunt and kitchen-batteries, carpets and other furniture. Moreover the tutor bade build a house whose walls he lined with the whitest stucco painted over with ceruse,6 and, lastly, he delineated thereon all the objects concerning which he proposed to lecture his pupil. When the place was duly furnished, he took the lad’s hand and installed him in the apartment which was amply furnished with belly-timber; and, after stablishing him therein, went forth and fastened the door with seven padlocks. Nor did he visit the Prince save every third day when he lessoned him on the knowledge to be extracted from the wall-pictures and renewed his provision of meat and drink, after which he left him again to solitude. So whenever the youth was straitened in breast by the tedium and ennui of loneliness, he applied himself diligently to his object-lessons and mastered all the deductions therefrom. His governor seeing this turned his mind into other channel and taught him the inner meanings of the external objects; and in a little time the pupil mastered every requisite. Then the Sage took him from the house and taught him cavalarice and Jerid play and archery. When the pupil had thoroughly mastered these arts, the tutor sent to the King informing him that the Prince was perfect and complete in all things required to figure favourably amongst his peers. Hereat the King rejoiced; and, summoning his Wazirs and Lords of estate to be present at the examination, commanded the Sage to send his son into the presence. Thereupon Al–Sindibad consulted his pupil’s horoscope and found it barred by an inauspicious conjunction which would last seven days; so, in sore affright for the youth’s life, he said, “Look into thy nativity-scheme.” The Prince did so and, recognising the portent, feared for himself and presently asked the Sage, saying, “What dost thou bid me do?” “I bid thee,” he answered, “remain silent and speak not a word during this se’nnight; even though thy sire slay thee with scourging. An thou pass safely through this period, thou shalt win to high rank and succeed to thy sire’s reign; but an things go otherwise then the behest is with Allah from the beginning to the end thereof.” Quoth the pupil, “Thou art in fault, O preceptor, and thou hast shown undue haste in sending that message to the King before looking into my horoscope. Hadst thou delayed till the week had passed all had been well.” Quoth the tutor, “O my son, what was to be was; and the sole defaulter therein was my delight in thy scholarship. But now be firm in thy resolve; rely upon Allah Almighty and determine not to utter a single word.” Thereupon the Prince fared for the presence and was met by the Wazirs who led him to his father. The King accosted him and addressed him but he answered not; and sought speech of him but he spake not. Whereupon the courtiers were astounded and the monarch, sore concerned for his son, summoned Al–Sindibad. But the tutor so hid himself that none could hit upon his trace nor gain tidings of him; and folk said, “He was ashamed to appear before the King’s majesty and the courtiers.” Under these conditions the Sovereign heard some of those present saying, “Send the lad to the Serraglio where he will talk with the women and soon set aside this bashfulness;” and, approving their counsel, gave orders accordingly. So the Prince was led into the palace, which was compassed about by a running stream whose banks were planted with all manner of fruit-trees and sweet-smelling flowers. Moreover, in this palace were forty chambers and in every chamber ten slave-girls, each skilled in some instrument of music, so that whenever one of them played, the palace danced to her melodious strains. Here the Prince passed one night; but, on the following morning, the King’s favourite concubine happened to cast eyes upon his beauty and loveliness, his symmetrical stature, his brilliancy and his perfect grace, and love gat hold of her heart and she was ravished with his charms.7 So she went up to him and threw herself upon him, but he made her no response; whereupon, being dazed by his beauty, she cried out to him and required him of himself and importuned him; then she again threw herself upon him and clasped him to her bosom kissing him and saying, “O King’s son, grant me thy favours and I will set thee in thy father’s stead; I will give him to drink of poison, so he may die and thou shalt enjoy his realm and wealth.” When the Prince heard these words, he was sore enraged against her and said to her by signs, “O accursed one, so it please Almighty Allah, I will assuredly requite thee this thy deed, whenas I can speak; for I will go forth to my father and will tell him, and he shall kill thee.” So signing, he arose in rage, and went out from her chamber; whereat she feared for herself. Thereupon she buffeted her face and rent her raiment and tare her hair and bared her head, then went in to the King and cast herself at his feet, weeping and wailing. When he saw her in this plight, he was sore concerned and asked her, “What aileth thee, O damsel? How is it with thy lord, my son? Is he not well?”; and she answered, “O King, this thy son, whom thy courtiers avouch to be dumb, required me of myself and I repelled him, whereupon he did with me as thou seest and would have slain me; so I fled from him, nor will I ever return to him, nor to the palace again, no, never again!” When the King heard this, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and, calling his seven Wazirs, bade them put the Prince to death. However, they said one to other, “If we do the King’s commandment, he will surely repent of having ordered his son’s death, for he is passing dear to him and this child came not to him save after despair; and he will round upon us and blame us, saying, ‘Why did ye not contrive to dissuade me from slaying him?’” So they took counsel together, to turn him from his purpose, and the chief Wazir said, “I will warrant you from the King’s mischief this day.” Then he went in to the presence and prostrating himself craved leave to speak. The King gave him permission, and he said, “O King, though thou hadst a thousand sons, yet were it no light matter to thee to put one of them to death, on the report of a woman, be she true or be she false; and belike this is a lie and a trick of her against thy son; for indeed, O King, I have heard tell great plenty of stories of the malice, the craft and perfidy of women.” Quoth the King, “Tell me somewhat of that which hath come to thy knowledge thereof.” And the Wazir answered, saying, ‘Yes, there hath reached me, O King, a tale entituled
1 Here begins the Sindibad-namah, the origin of Dolopathos (thirteenth century by the Trouvère Harbers); of the “Seven Sages” (John Holland in 1575); the “Seven Wise Masters” and a host of minor romances. The Persian Sindibád-Námah assumed its present shape in A.D. 1375: Professor Falconer printed an abstract of it in the Orient. Journ. (xxxv. and xxxvi. 1841), and Mr. W. A. Clouston reissued the “Book of Sindibad,” with useful notes in 1884. An abstract of the Persian work is found in all edits. of The Nights; but they differ greatly, especially that in the Bresl. Edit. xii. pp. 237–377, from which I borrow the introduction. According to Hamzah Isfahání (ch. xli.) the Reguli who succeeded to Alexander the Great and preceded Sapor caused some seventy books to be composed, amongst which were the Liber Maruc, Liber Barsínas, Liber Sindibad, Liber Shimás, etc., etc.
2 Eusebius De Praep. Evang. iii. 4, quotes Prophesy concerning the Egyptian belief in the Lords of the Ascendant whose names are given {Greek letters}: in these “Almenichiaka” we have the first almanac, as the first newspaper in the Roman “Acta Diurna.”
3 “Al–Mas’údi,” the “Herodotus of the Arabs,” thus notices Sindibad the Sage (in his Murúj, etc., written about A.D. 934). “During the reign of Kurúsh (Cyrus) lived Al–Sindibad who wrote the Seven Wazirs, etc.” Al–Ya’akúbi had also named him, circ. A.D. 880. For notes on the name Sindibad, see Sindbad the Seaman, Night dxxxvi. I need not enter into the history of the “Seven Sages,” a book evidently older than The Nights in present form; but refer the reader to Mr. Clouston, of whom more in a future page.
4 Evidently borrowed from the Christians, although the latter borrowed from writers of the most remote antiquity. Yet the saying is the basis of all morality and in few words contains the highest human wisdom.
5 It is curious to compare the dry and business-like tone of the Arab style with the rhetorical luxuriance of the Persian: p.10 of Mr. Clouston’s “Book of Sindibad.”
6 In the text “Isfídáj,” the Pers. Isped (or Saféd) áb, lit. = white water, ceruse used for women’s faces suggesting our “Age of Bismuth,” Blanc Rosati, Crême de l’Impératrice, Perline, Opaline, Milk of Beauty, etc., etc.
7 Commentators compare this incident with the biblical story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife and with the old Egyptian romance and fairy tale of the brothers Anapon and Saton dating from the fourteenth century, the days of Pharaoh Ramses Miamun (who built Pi-tum and Ramses) at whose court Moses or Osarsiph is supposed to have been reared (Cambridge Essays 1858). The incident would often occur, e.g. Phædra-cum-Hippolytus; Fausta-cum-Crispus and Lucinian; Asoka’s wife and Kunála, etc., etc. Such things happen in every-day life, and the situation has recommended itself to the folk lore of all peoples.
There was once a King of the Kings, a potent man and a proud, who was devoted to the love of women and one day being in the privacy of his palace, he espied a beautiful woman on the terraceroof of her house and could not contain himself from falling consumedly in love with her.2 He asked his folk to whom the house and the damsel belonged and they said, “This is the dwelling of the Wazir such an one and she is his wife.” So he called the Minister in question and despatched him on an errand to a distant part of the kingdom, where he was to collect information and to return; but, as soon as he obeyed and was gone, the King contrived by a trick to gain access to his house and his spouse. When the Wazir’s wife saw him, she knew him and springing up, kissed his hands and feet and welcomed him. Then she stood afar off, busying herself in his service, and said to him, “O our lord, what is the cause of thy gracious coming? Such an honour is not for the like of me.” Quoth he, “The cause of it is that love of thee and desire thee-wards have moved me to this. Whereupon she kissed ground before him a second time and said, “By Allah, O our lord, indeed I am not worthy to be the handmaid of one of the King’s servants; whence then have I the great good fortune to be in such high honour and favour with thee?” Then the King put out his hand to her intending to enjoy her person, when she said, “This thing shall not escape us; but take patience, O my King, and abide with thy handmaid all this day, that she may make ready for thee somewhat to eat and drink.” So the King sat down on his Minister’s couch and she went in haste and brought him a book wherein he might read, whilst she made ready the food. He took the book and, beginning to read, found therein moral instances and exhortations, such as restrained him from adultery and broke his courage to commit sin and crime. After awhile, she returned and set before him some ninety dishes of different kinds of colours, and he ate a mouthful of each and found that, while the number was many, the taste of them was one. At this, he marvelled with exceeding marvel and said to her, “O damsel, I see these meats to be manifold and various, but the taste of them is simple and the same.” “Allah prosper the King!” replied she, “this is a parable I have set for thee, that thou mayst be admonished thereby.” He asked, “And what is its meaning?”; and she answered, “Allah amend the case of our lord the King!; in thy palace are ninety concubines of various colours, but their taste is one.”3 When the King heard this, he was ashamed and rising hastily, went out, without offering her any affront and returned to his palace; but, in his haste and confusion, he forgot his signet-ring and left it under the cushion where he had been sitting and albeit he remembered it he was ashamed to send for it. Now hardly had he reached home when the Wazir returned and, presenting himself before the King, kissed the ground and made his report to him of the state of the province in question. Then he repaired to his own house and sat down on his couch and chancing to put his hand under the cushion, behold, he found the King’s seal-ring. So he knew it and taking the matter to heart, held aloof in great grief from his wife for a whole year, not going in unto her nor even speaking to her, whilst she knew not the reason of his anger. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Another version of this tale is given in the Bresl. Edit. (vol. viii. pp. 273–8: Night 675–6). It is the “Story of the King and the Virtuous Wife” in the Book of Sindibad. In the versions Arabic and Greek (Syntipas) the King forgets his ring; in the Hebrew Mishlé Sandabar, his staff, and his sandals in the old Spanish Libro de los Engannos et los Asayamientos de las Mugeres.
2 One might fancy that this is Biblical, Bathsheba and Uriah. But such “villanies” must often have occurred in the East, at different times and places, without requiring direct derivation. The learned Prof. H. H. Wilson was mistaken in supposing that these fictions “originate in the feeling which has always pervaded the East unfavourable to the dignity of women.” They belong to a certain stage of civilisation when the sexes are at war with each other; and they characterise chivalrous Europe as well as misogynous Asia; witness Jankins, clerk of Oxenforde; while Æsop’s fable of the Lion and the Man also explains their frequency.
3 The European form of the tale is “Toujours perdrix,” a sentence often quoted but seldom understood. It is the reproach of M. l’Abbé when the Count (proprietor of the pretty Countess) made him eat partridge every day for a month; on which the Abbé says, “Alway partridge is too much of a good thing!” Upon this text the Count speaks. A correspondent mentions that it was told by Horace Walpole concerning the Confessor of a French King who reproved him for conjugal infidelities. The degraded French (for “toujours de la perdrix” or “des perdrix”) suggests a foreign origin. Another friend refers me to No. x. of the “Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles” (compiled in A.D. 1432 for the amusement of the Dauphin, afterwards Louis XI.) whose chief personage “un grand seigneur du Royaulme d’Angleterre,” is lectured upon fidelity by the lord’s mignon, a “jeune et gracieux gentil homme de son hostel.” Here the partridge became pastés d’anguille. Possibly Scott refers to it in Redgauntlet (chapt. iv.); “One must be very fond of partridge to accept it when thrown in one’s face.” Did not Voltaire complain at Potsdam of “toujours perdrix” and make it one of his grievances? A similar story is that of the chaplain who, weary of the same diet, uttered “grace” as follows:—
Rabbits hot, rabbits cold,
Rabbits tender, and rabbits tough,
Rabbits young, and rabbits old–
I thank the Lord I’ve had enough.
And I as cordially thank my kind correspondents.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir held aloof from his wife, whilst she knew not the cause of his wrath. At last, being weary of the longsome neglect, she sent for her sire and told him the case; whereupon quoth he, “I will complain of him to the King, at some time when he is in the presence.” So, one day, he went in to the King and, finding the Wazir and the Kazi of the army before him,1 complained thus saying, “Almighty Allah amend the King’s case! I had a fair flower-garden, which I planted with mine own hand and thereon spent my substance till it bare fruit; and its fruitage was ripe for plucking, when I gave it to this thy Wazir, who ate of it what seemed good to him, then deserted it and watered it not, so that its bloom wilted and withered and its sheen departed and its state changed.” Then said the Wazir, “O my King, this man saith sooth. I did indeed care for and guard the garden and kept it in good condition and ate thereof, till one day I went thither and I saw the trail of the lion there, wherefore I feared for my life and withdrew from the garden.” The King understood him that the trail of the lion meant his own seal-ring, which he had forgotten in the woman’s house; so he said, “Return, O Wazir, to thy flower-garden and fear nothing, for the lion came not near it. It hath reached me that he went thither; but, by the honour of my fathers and forefathers, he offered it no hurt.” “Hearkening and obedience,” answered the Minister and, returning home sent for his wife and made his peace with her and thenceforth put faith in her chastity. “This I tell thee, O King (continued the Wazir), for no other purpose save to let thee know how great is their craft and how precipitancy bequeatheth repentance.2 And I have also heard the following
1 The great legal authority of the realm.
2 In all editions the Wazir here tells the Tale of the Merchant’s Wife and the Parrot which, following Lane, I have transferred to vol. i. p. 52. But not to break the tradition I here introduce the Persian version of the story from the “Book of Sindibad.” In addition to the details given in the note to vol. i., 52 {Vol1, FN#90}; I may quote the two talking-birds left to watch over his young wife by Rajah Rasálú (son of Shaliváhana the great Indian monarch circ. A.D. 81), who is to the Punjab what Rustam is to Persia and Antar to Arabia. In the “Seven Wise Masters” the parrot becomes a magpie and Mr. Clouston, in some clever papers on “Popular Tales and Fictions” contributed to the Glasgow Evening Times (1884), compares it with the history, in the Gesta Romanorum, of the Adulteress, the Abigail, and the Three Cocks, two of which crowed during the congress of the lady and her lover. All these evidently belong to the Sindibad cycle.
Once upon a time there dwelt in Egypt a confectioner who had a wife famed for beauty and loveliness; and a parrot which, as occasion required, did the office of watchman and guard, bell and spy, and flapped her wings did she but hear a fly buzzing about the sugar. This parrot caused abundant trouble to the wife, always telling her husband what took place in his absence. Now one evening, before going out to visit certain friends, the confectioner gave the bird strict injunctions to watch all night and bade his wife make all fast, as he should not return until morning. Hardly had he left the door than the woman went for her old lover, who returned with her and they passed the night together in mirth and merriment, while the parrot observed all. Betimes in the morning the lover fared forth and the husband, returning, was informed by the parrot of what had taken place; whereupon he hastened to his wife’s room and beat her with a painful beating. She thought in herself, “Who could have informed against me?” and she asked a woman that was in her confidence whether it was she. The woman protested by the worlds visible and invisible that she had not betrayed her mistress; but informed her that on the morning of his return home, the husband had stood some time before the cage listening to the parrot’s talk. When the wife heard this, she resolved to contrive the destruction of the bird. Some days after, the husband was again invited to the house of a friend where he was to pass the night; and, before departing, he enjoined the parrot with the same injunctions as before; wherefore his heart was free from care, for he had his spy at home. The wife and her confidante then planned how they might destroy the credit of the parrot with the master. For this purpose they resolved to counterfeit a storm; and this they did by placing over the parrot’s head a hand-mill (which the lover worked by pouring water upon a piece of hide), by waving a fan and by suddenly uncovering a candle hid under a dish. Thus did they raise such a tempest of rain and lightning, that the parrot was drenched and half-drowned in a deluge. Now rolled the thunder, then flashed the lightning; that from the noise of the hand-mill, this from the reflection of the candle; when thought the parrot to herself, “In very sooth the flood hath come on, such an one as belike Noah himself never witnessed.” So saying she buried her head under her wing, a prey to terror. The husband, on his return, hastened to the parrot to ask what had happened during his absence; and the bird answered that she found it impossible to describe the deluge and tempest of the last night; and that years would be required to explain the uproar of the hurricane and storm. When the shopkeeper heard the parrot talk of last night’s deluge, he said: “Surely O bird, thou art gone clean daft! Where was there, even in a dream, rain or lightning last night? Thou hast utterly ruined my house and ancient family. My wife is the most virtuous woman of the age and all thine accusations of her are lies.” So in his wrath he dashed the cage upon the ground, tore off the parrot’s head, and threw it from the window. Presently his friend, coming to call upon him, saw the parrot in this condition with head torn off, and without wings or plumage. Being informed of the circumstances he suspected some trick on the part of the woman, and said to the husband, “When your wife leaves home to go to the Hammam-bath, compel her confidante to disclose the secret.” So as soon as his wife went out, the husband entered his Harim and insisted on the woman telling him the truth. She recounted the whole story and the husband now bitterly repented having killed the parrot, of whose innocence he had proof. “This I tell thee, O King (continued the Wazir), that thou mayst know how great are the craft and malice of women and that to act in haste leadeth to repent at leisure.” So the King turned from slaying his son: but, next day, the favourite came in to him and, kissing the ground before him, said, “O King, why dost thou delay to do me justice? Indeed, the Kings have heard that thou commandest a thing and thy Wazir countermandeth it. Now the obedience of Kings is in the fulfilment of their commandments, and every one knows thy justice and equity: so do thou justice for me on the Prince. I also have heard tell a tale concerning
There was once a man which was a fuller, and he used every day to go forth to the Tigris-bank a-cleaning clothes; and his son was wont to go with him that he might swim whilst his father was fulling, nor was he forbidden from this. One day, as the boy was swimming,1 he was taken with cramp in the forearms and sank, whereupon the fuller plunged into the water and caught hold of him; but the boy clung about him and pulled him down and so father and son were both drowned. “Thus it is with thee, O King. Except thou prevent thy son and do me justice on him, I fear lest both of you sink together, thou and he.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In the days of the Caliph Al–Mustakfí bi ’llah (A.H. 333=944) the youth of Baghdad studied swimming and it is said that they could swim holding chafing-dishes upon which were cooking-pots and keep afloat till the meat was dressed. The story is that of “The Washerman and his Son who were drowned in the Nile,” of the Book of Sindibad.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the favourite had told her tale of the Fuller and his son, she ended with, “I fear lest both of you sink together, thou and he. Moreover,” continued she, “for an instance of the malice of men, I have heard tell a tale concerning
A certain man loved a beautiful and lovely woman, a model of charms and grace, married to a man whom she loved and who loved her. Moreover, she was virtuous and chaste, like unto me, and her rake of a lover found no way to her; so when his patience was at an end, he devised a device to win his will. Now the husband had a young man, whom he had brought up in his house and who was in high trust with him as his steward. So the rake addressed himself to the youth and ceased not insinuating himself into his favour by presents and fair words and deeds, till he became more obedient to him than the hand to the mouth and did whatever he ordered him. One day, he said to him, “Harkye, such an one; wilt thou not bring me into the family dwelling-place some time when the lady is gone out?” “Yes,” answered the young steward so, when his master was at the shop and his mistress gone forth to the Hammam, he took his friend by the hand and, bringing him into the house, showed him the sitting-rooms and all that was therein. Now the lover was determined to play a trick upon the woman; so he took the white of an egg which he had brought with him in a vessel, and spilt it on the merchant’s bedding, unseen by the young man; after which he returned thanks and leaving the house went his way. In an hour or so the merchant came home; and, going to the bed to rest himself, found thereon something wet. So he took it up in his hand and looked at it and deemed it man’s seed; whereat he stared at the young man with eyes of wrath, and asked him, “Where is thy mistress?”; and he answered, “She is gone forth to the Hammam and will return forthright after she has made her ablutions.”1 When the man heard this, his suspicion concerning the semen was confirmed; and he waxed furious and said, “Go at once and bring her back.” The steward accordingly fetched her and when she came before her husband, the jealous man sprang upon her and beat her a grievous beating; then, binding her arms behind her, offered to cut her throat with a knife; but she cried out to the neighbours, who came to her, and she said to them, “This my man hath beaten me unjustly and without cause and is minded to kill me, though I know not what is mine offence.” So they rose up and asked him, “Why hast thou dealt thus by her?” And he answered, “She is divorced.” Quoth they, “Thou hast no right to maltreat her; either divorce her or use her kindly, for we know her prudence and purity and chastity. Indeed, she hath been our neighbour this long time and we wot no evil of her.” Quoth he, “When I came home, I found on my bed seed like human sperm, and I know not the meaning of this.” Upon this a little boy, one of those present, came forward and said, “Show it to me, nuncle mine!” When he saw it, he smelt it and, calling for fire and a frying-pan, he took the white of egg and cooked it so that it became solid. Then he ate of it and made the husband and the others taste if it, and they were certified that it was white of egg. So the husband was convinced that he had sinned against his wife’s innocence, she being clear of all offence, and the neighbours made peace between them after the divorce, and he prayed her pardon and presented her with an hundred gold pieces. And so the wicked lover’s cunning trick came to naught. “And know, O King, that this is an instance of the malice of men and their perfidy.” When the King heard this, he bade his son be slain; but on the next day the second Wazir came forward for intercession and kissed ground in prostration. Whereupon the King said, “Raise thy head: prostration must be made to Allah only.”2 So the Minister rose from before him and said, “O King, hasten not to slay thy son, for he was not granted to his mother by the Almighty but after despair, nor didst thou expect such good luck; and we hope that he will live to become a guerdon to thy reign and a guardian of thy good. Wherefore, have patience, O King; belike he will offer a fit excuse; and, if thou make haste to slay him, thou wilt surely repent, even as the merchant-wight repented.” Asked the King, “And how was it with the merchant, O Wazir?”; and the Wazir answered, “O King, I have heard a tale of
There was once a merchant, who was a niggard and miserly in his eating and drinking. One day, he went on a journey to a certain town and as he walked in the market-streets, behold, he met an old trot with two scones of bread which looked sound and fair, He asked her, “Are these for sale?”; and she answered, “Yes!” So he beat her down and bought them at the lowest price and took them home to his lodging, where he ate them that day. When morning morrowed, he returned to the same place and, finding the old woman there with other two scones, bought these also; and thus he ceased not during twenty-five days’ space when the old wife disappeared. He made enquiry for her, but could hear no tidings of her, till, one day as he was walking about the high streets, he chanced upon her: so he accosted her and, after the usual salutation and with much praise and politeness, asked why she had disappeared from the market and ceased to supply the two cakes of bread? Hearing this, at first she evaded giving him a reply; but he conjured her to tell him her case; so she said, “Hear my excuse, O my lord, which is that I was attending upon a man who had a corroding ulcer on his spine, and his doctor bade us knead flour with butter into a plaster and lay it on the place of pain, where it abode all night. In the morning, I used to take that flour and turn it into dough and make it into two scones, which I cooked and sold to thee or to another; but presently the man died and I was cut off from making cakes.”1 When the merchant heard this, he repented whenas repentance availed him naught, saying, “Verily, we are Allah’s and verily unto Him we are returning! There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Him, the Glorious, the Great!” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This nauseous Joe Miller has often been told in the hospitals of London and Paris. It is as old as the Hitopadesa.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old trot told the merchant the provenance of the scones, he cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” And he repeated the saying of the Most High, “Whatever evil falleth to thee it is from thyself;”1 and vomited till he fell sick and repented whenas repentance availed him naught. “Moreover, O King” (continued the second Wazir), “I have heard tell, of the malice of women, a tale of
1 Koran iv. 81, “All is from Allah;” but the evil which befals mankind, though ordered by Allah, is yet the consequence of their own wickedness (I add, which wickedness was created by Allah).
Once upon a time there was a man, who was sword-bearer to one of the Kings, and he loved a damsel of the common sort. One day, he sent his page to her with a message, as of wont between them, and the lad sat down with her and toyed with her. She inclined to him and pressed him to her breast and groped him and kissed him whereupon he sought carnal connection of her and she consented; but, as the two were thus, lo! the youth’s master knocked at the door. So she pushed the page through a trapdoor into an underground chamber there and opened the door to his lord, who entered hending sword in hand and sat down upon her bed. Then she came up to him and sported and toyed with him, kissing him and pressing him to her bosom, and he took her and lay with her. Presently, her husband knocked at the door and the gallant asked her, “Who is that?”; whereto she answered, “My husband.” Quoth he, “How shall I do?” Quoth she, “Draw thy sword and stand in the vestibule and abuse me and revile me; and when my husband comes in to thee, do thou go forth and wend thy ways.” He did as she bade him; and, when the husband entered, he saw the King’s sword-bearer standing with naked brand in hand, abusing and threatening his wife; but, when the lover saw him, he was ashamed and sheathing his scymitar, went forth the house. Said the man to his wife, “What means this?”; and she replied, “O man, how blessed is the hour of thy coming! Thou hast saved a True Believer from slaughter, and it happed after this fashion. I was on the house-terrace, spinning,1 when behold, there came up to me a youth, distracted and panting for fear of death, fleeing from yonder man, who followed upon him as hard as he could with his drawn sword. The young man fell down before me, and kissed my hands and feet, saying, “O Protector, of thy mercy, save me from him who would slay me wrongously!” So I hid him in that underground chamber of ours and presently in came yonder man to me, naked brand in hand, demanding the youth. But I denied him to him, whereupon he fell to abusing and threatening me as thou sawest. And praised be Allah who sent thee to me, for I was distraught and had none to deliver me!” “Well hast thou done, O woman!” answered the husband. “Thy reward is with Allah the Almighty, and may He abundantly requite thy good deed!” Then he went to the trap door and called to the page, saying, “Come forth and fear not; no harm shall befal thee.” So he came out, trembling for fear, and the husband said, “Be of good cheer: none shall I hurt thee;” condoling with him on what had befallen him; whilst the page called down blessings on his head. Then they both went forth, nor was that Cornuto nor was the page aware of that which the woman had contrived. “This, then, O King,” said the Wazir, “is one of the tricks of women; so beware lest thou rely upon their I words.” The King was persuaded and turned from putting his son to death; but, on the third day, the favourite came in to him I and, kissing the ground before him, cried, “O King, do me justice on thy son and be not turned from thy purpose by thy Ministers’ prate, for there is no good in wicked Wazirs, and be not as the King of Baghdad, who relied on the word of a certain wicked counsellor of his.” Quoth he, “And how was that?” Quoth she, “There hath been told me, O auspicious and well-advised King, a tale of
1 The Bresl. Edit. (xii. 266) says “bathing.”
A certain King had a son, whom he loved and favoured with exceeding favour, over all his other children; and this son said to him one day, “O my father, I have a mind to fare a-coursing and a-hunting.” So the King bade furnish him and commanded one of his Wazirs to bear him company and do all the service he needed during his trip. The Minister accordingly took everything that was necessary for the journey and they set out with a retinue of eunuchs and officers and pages, and rode on, sporting as they went, till they came to a green and well-grassed champaign abounding in pasture and water and game. Here the Prince turned to the Minister and told him that the place pleased him and he purposed to halt there. So they set down in that site and they loosed the falcons and lynxes and dogs and caught great plenty of game, whereat they rejoiced and abode there some days, in all joyance of life and its delight. Then the King’s son gave the signal for departure; but, as they went along, a beautiful gazelle, as if the sun rose shining from between her horns, that had strayed from her mate, sprang up before the Prince, whereupon his soul longed to make prize of her and he coveted her. So he said to the Wazir, “I have a mind to follow that gazelle;” and the Minister replied, “Do what seemeth good to thee.” Thereupon the Prince rode single-handed after the gazelle, till he lost sight of his companions, and chased her all that day till dusk, when she took refuge in a bit of rocky ground2 and darkness closed in upon him. Then he would have turned back, but knew not the way; whereat he was sore concerned and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” He sat his mare all night till morning dawned, in quest of relief, but found none; and, when the day appeared, he fared on at hazard fearful, famished, thirsty, and knowing not whither to wend till it was noon and the sun beat down upon him with burning heat. By that time he came in sight of a great city, with massive base and lofty bulwarks; but it was ruined and desolate, nor was there any live thing therein save owl and raven. As he stood among the buildings, marvelling at their ordinance, lo! his eyes fell on a damsel, young, beautiful and lovely, sitting under one of the city walls wailing and weeping copious tears. So he drew nigh to her and asked, “Who art thou and who brought thee hither?” She answered, “I am called Bint al-Tamimah, daughter of Al–Tiyakh, King of the Gray Country. I went out one day to obey a call of nature,3 when an Ifrit of the Jinn snatched me up and soared with me between heaven and earth; but as he flew there fell on him a shooting-star in the form of a flame of fire and burned him, and I dropped here, where these three days I have hungered and thirsted; but when I saw thee I longed for life.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This tale is much like that told in the Fifth Night (vol. i. 54). It is the story of the Prince and the Lamia in the Book of Sindibad wherein it is given with Persian rhetoric and diffuseness.
2 Arab. “Wa’ar”= rocky, hilly, tree-less ground unfit for riding. I have noted that the three Heb. words “Year” (e.g. Kiryath–Yearin=City of forest), “Choresh” (now Hirsh, a scrub), and “Pardes” ({Greek letters} a chase, a hunting-park opposed to {Greek letters}, an orchard) are preserved in Arabic and are intelligible in Palestine. (Unexplored Syria, i. 207.)
3 The privy and the bath are favourite haunts of the Jinns.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Prince when addressed by the daughter of King Al–Tiyakh who said to him, “When I saw thee I longed for life,” was smitten with ruth and grief for her and took her up on his courser’s crupper, saying, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear; for, if Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) restore me to my people and family, I will send thee back to thine own folk.” Then he rode on, praying for deliverance, and presently the damsel said to him, “O King’s son, set me down, that I may do an occasion under this wall.” So he drew bridle and she alighted. He waited for her a long while as she hid herself behind the wall; and she came forth, with the foulest of favours; which when he saw, his hair stood on end and he quaked for fear of her and he turned deadly pale. Then she sprang up on his steed, behind him, wearing the most loathly of aspects, and presently she said to him, “O King’s son, what ails thee that I see thee troubled and thy favour changed?” “I have bethought me of somewhat that troubles me.” “Seek aid against it of thy father’s troops and his braves.” “He whom I fear careth naught for troops, neither can braves affright him.” “Aid thyself against him with thy father’s monies and treasures.” “He whom I fear will not be satisfied with wealth.” “Ye hold that ye have in Heaven a God who seeth and is not seen and is Omnipotent and Omniscient.” “Yes, we have none but Him.” “Then pray thou to Him; haply He will deliver thee from me thine enemy!” So the King’s son raised his eyes to heaven and began to pray with his whole heart, saying, “O my God, I implore Thy succour against that which troubleth me.” Then he pointed to her with his hand, and she fell to the ground, burnt black as charcoal. Therewith he thanked Allah and praised Him and ceased not to fare forwards; and the Almighty (extolled and exalted be He!) of His grace made the way easy to him and guided him into the right road, so that he reached his own land and came upon his father’s capital, after he had despaired of life. Now all this befel by the contrivance of the Wazir, who travelled with him, to the end that he might cause him to perish on the way; but Almighty Allah succoured him. “And this” (said the damsel) “have I told thee, O King, that thou mayst know that wicked Wazirs deal not honestly by nor counsel with sincere intent their Kings; wherefore be thou wise and ware of them in this matter.” The King gave ear to her speech and bade put his son to death; but the third Wazir came in and said to his brother Ministers, “I will warrant you from the King’s mischief this day” and, going in to him, kissed the ground between his hands and said, “O King, I am thy true counsellor and solicitous for thee and for thine estate, and indeed I rede thee the best of rede; it is that thou hasten not to slay thy son, the coolth of thine eyes and the fruit of thy vitals. Haply his sin is but a slight slip, which this damsel hath made great to thee; and indeed I have heard tell that the people of two villages once destroyed one another, because of a drop of honey.” Asked the King, “How was that?”; and the Wazir answered, saying, “Know, O King, that I have heard this story anent
A certain hunter used to chase wild beasts in wold, and one day he came upon a grotto in the mountains, where he found a hollow full of bees’ honey. So he took somewhat thereof in a water-skin he had with him and, throwing it over his shoulder, carried it to the city, followed by a hunting dog which was dear to him. He stopped at the shop of an oilman and offered him the honey for sale and he bought it. Then he emptied it out of the skin, that he might see it, and in the act a drop fell to the ground, whereupon the flies flocked to it and a bird swooped down upon the flies. Now the oilman had a cat, which sprang upon the bird, and the huntsman’s dog, seeing the cat, sprang upon it and slew it; whereupon the oilman sprang upon the dog and slew it, and the huntsman in turn sprang upon the oilman and slew him. Now the oilman was of one village and the huntsman of another; and when the people of the two places heard what had passed, they took up arms and weapons and rose one on other in wrath and the two lines met; nor did the sword leave to play amongst them, till there died of them much people, none knoweth their number save Almighty Allah. “And amongst other stories of the malice of women” (continued the Wazir) “I have heard tell, O King, one concerning
1 Arab history is full of petty wars caused by trifles. In Egypt the clans Sa’ad and Harám and in Syria the Kays and Yaman (which remain to the present day) were as pugnacious as Highland Caterans. The tale bears some likeness to the accumulative nursery rhymes in “The House that Jack Built,” and “The Old Woman and the Crooked Sixpence;” which find their indirect original in an allegorical Talmudic hymn.
A man once gave his wife a dirham to buy rice; so she took it and went to the rice-seller, who gave her the rice and began to jest with her and ogle her, for she was dowered with beauty and loveliness, saying, “Rice is not good but with sugar which if thou wilt have, come in with me for an hour.” So, saying, “Give me sugar,” she went in with him into his shop and he won his will of her and said to his slave, “Weigh her out a dirham’s worth of sugar.” But he made the slave a privy sign, and the boy, taking the napkin, in which was the rice, emptied it out and put in earth and dust in its stead, and for the sugar set stones, after which he again knotted up the napkin and left it by her. His object, in doing this, was that she should come to him a second time; so, when she went forth of the shop, he gave her the napkin and she took it, thinking to have in it rice and sugar, and ganged her gait; but when she returned home and, setting it before her husband, went for a cooking-pot, he found in it earth and stones. So, as soon as she came back bringing the pot, he said to her, “Did I tell thee I had aught to build, that thou bringest me earth and stones?” When she saw this; she knew that the rice-seller’s slave had tricked her; so she said to her husband, “O man, in my trouble of mind for what hath befallen me, I went to fetch the sieve and brought the cooking-pot.” “What hath troubled thee?” asked he; and she answered, “O husband, I dropped the dirham thou gavest me in the market-street and was ashamed to search for it before the folk; yet I grudged to lose the silver, so I gathered up the earth from the place where it fell and brought it away, thinking to sift it at home. Wherefore I went to fetch the sieve, but brought the cooking-pot instead.” Then she fetched the sieve and gave it to her husband, saying, “Do thou sift it; for thine eyes are sharper than mine.” Accordingly he sat, sifting the clay, till his face and beard were covered with dust; and he discovered not her trick, neither knew what had befallen her. “This then, O King,” said the Wazir, “is an instance of the malice of women, and consider the saying of Allah Almighty, “Surely the cunning of you (women) is great!’2 And again, ‘Indeed, the malice of Satan is weak in comparison with the malice of women.’”3 The King gave ear to his Wazir’s speech and was persuaded thereby and was satisfied by what he cited to him of the signs of Allah4; and the lights of good counsel arose and shone in the firmament of his understanding and he turned from his purpose of slaying his son. But on the fourth day, the favourite came in to him weeping and wailing and, kissing the ground before him, said, “O auspicious King, and lord of good rede, I have made plainly manifest to thee my grievance and thou hast dealt unjustly by me and hast forborne to avenge me on him who hath wronged me, because he is thy son and the darling of thy heart; but Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) will presently succour me against him, even as He succoured the King’s son against his father’s Wazir.” “And how was that?” asked the King; and she answered, “I have heard tell, O King, a tale of
1 This is “The Story of the Old Man who sent his Young Wife to the Market to buy Rice,” told with Persian reflections in the “Book of Sindibad.”
2 Koran xii. 28. The words were spoken by Potiphar to Joseph.
3 Koran iv. 78. A mis-quotation, the words are, “Fight therefore against the friends of Satan, for the craft of Satan shall be weak.”
4 i.e. Koranic versets.
There was once in times gone by a King who had one son and none other; and, when the Prince grew up to man’s estate, he contracted him in marriage to another King’s daughter. Now the damsel was a model of beauty and grace and her uncle’s son had sought her in wedlock of her sire, but she would none of him. So, when he knew that she was to be married to another, envy and jealousy gat hold of him and he bethought himself and sent a noble present to the Wazir of the bridegroom’s father and much treasure, desiring him to use craft for slaying the Prince or contrive to make him leave his intent of espousing the girl and adding, “O Wazir, indeed jealousy moveth me to this for she is my cousin.”2 The Wazir accepted the present and sent an answer, saying, “Be of good cheer and of eyes cool and clear, for I will do all that thou wishest.” Presently, the bride’s father wrote to the Prince, bidding him to his capital, that he might go in to his daughter; whereupon the King his father gave him leave to wend his way thither, sending with him the bribed Wazir and a thousand horse, besides presents and litters, tents and pavilions. The Minister set out with the Prince, plotting the while in his heart to do him a mischief; and when they came into the desert, he called to mind a certain spring of running water in the mountains there, called Al–Zahra,3 whereof whosoever drank from a man became a woman. So he called a halt of the troops near the fountain and presently mounting steed again, said to the Prince, “Hast thou a mind to go with me and look upon a spring of water near hand?” The Prince mounted, knowing not what should befal him in the future,4 and they rode on, unattended by any, and without stopping till they came to the spring. The Prince being thirsty said to the Wazir, “O Minister, I am suffering from drouth,” and the other answered, “Get thee down and drink of this spring!” So he alighted and washed his hands and drank, when behold, he straightway became a woman. As soon as he knew what had befallen him, he cried out and wept till he fainted away, and the Wazir came up to him as if to learn what had befallen him and cried, “What aileth thee?” So he told him what had happened, and the Minister feigned to condole with him and weep for his affliction, saying, “Allah Almighty be thy refuge in thine affliction! How came this calamity upon thee and this great misfortune to betide thee, and we carrying thee with joy and gladness, that thou mightest go in to the King’s daughter? Verily, now I know not whether we shall go to her or not; but the rede5 is thine. What dost thou command me to do?” Quoth the Prince, “Go back to my sire and tell him what hath betided me, for I will not stir hence till this matter be removed from me or I die in my regret.” So he wrote a letter to his father, telling him what had happened, and the Wazir took it and set out on his return to the city, leaving what troops he had with the Prince and inwardly exulting for the success of his plot. As soon as he reached the King’s capital, he went in to him and, telling him what had passed, delivered the letter. The King mourned for his son with sore mourning and sent for the wise men and masters of esoteric science, that they might discover and explain to him this thing which had befallen his son, but none could give him an answer. Then the Wazir wrote to the lady’s cousin, conveying to him the glad news of the Prince’s misfortune, and he when he read the letter rejoiced with great joy and thought to marry the Princess and answered the Minister sending him rich presents and great store of treasure and thanking him exceedingly. Meanwhile, the Prince abode by the stream three days and three nights, eating not nor drinking and committing himself, in his strait, unto Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) who disappointeth not whoso relieth on him. On the fourth night, lo! there came to him a cavalier on a bright-bay steed6 with a crown on his head, as he were of the sons of the Kings, and said to him, “Who brought thee hither, O youth?” The Prince told him his mishap, how he was wending to his wedding, and how the Wazir had led him to a spring whereof he drank and incurred what had occurred; and as he spoke his speech was broken by tears. Having heard him the horseman pitied his case and said, “It was thy father’s Wazir who cast thee into this strait, for no man alive save he knoweth of this spring;” presently adding, “Mount thee behind me and come with me to my dwelling, for thou art my guest this night.” “Acquaint me who thou art ere I fare with thee,” quoth the Prince; and quoth the other, “I am a King’s son of the Jánn, as thou a King’s son of mankind; so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes clear of tear, for I will surely do away thy cark and care; and this is a slight thing unto me.” So the Prince mounted him behind the stranger, and they rode on, leaving the troops, from the first of the day till midnight, when the King’s son of the Jinn asked the Prince, “Knowest thou how many days’ march we have covered in this time?” “Not I.” “We have come a full year’s journey for a diligent horseman.” The Prince marvelled at this and said, “How shall I do to return to my people?” “That is not thine affair, but my business. As soon as thou art quit of thy complaint, thou shalt return to thy people in less than the twinkling of an eye; for that is an easy matter to me.” When the Prince heard these words he was ready to fly for excess of joy; it seemed to him as he were in the imbroglio of a dream and he exclaimed, “Glory be to Him who can restore the unhappy to happiness!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In the Book of Sindibad this is the “Story of the Prince who went out to hunt and the stratagem which the Wazir practised on him.”
2 I have noted that it is a dire affront to an Arab if his first cousin marry any save himself without his formal leave.
3 i.e. the flowery, the splendid; an epithet of Fatimah, the daughter of the Apostle “the bright blooming.” Fátimah is an old Arab name of good omen, “the weaner:” in Egypt it becomes Fattúmah (an incrementative= “great weaner”); and so Amínah, Khadíjah and Nafísah on the banks of the Nile are barbarised to Ammúnah, Khaddúgah and Naffúsah.
4 i.e. his coming misfortune, the phrase being euphemistic.
5 Arab. “Ráy:” in theology it means “private judgment” and “Ráyí” (act. partic.) is a Rationalist. The Hanafí School is called “Asháb al-Ráy” because it allows more liberty of thought than the other three orthodox.
6 The angels in Al–Islam ride piebalds.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Prince of the Jinn said to the Prince of mankind, “When thou art quit of thy complaint, thou shalt return to thy folk in less than the twinkling of an eye;” and the King’s son rejoiced. They fared on all that night till the morning morrowed when lo! they found themselves in a green and smiling country, full of trees spireing and birds quiring and garths fruit-growing and palaces highshowing and waters a-flowing and odoriferous flowers a-blowing. Here the King’s son of the Jinn alighted from his steed and, bidding the Prince do the like, took him by the hand and carried him into one of the palaces, where he found a great King and puissant Sultan; and abode with him all that day eating and drinking, till nightfall. Then the King’s son of the Jinn mounted his courser and taking the Prince up behind him, fared on swiftly through the murks and glooms until morning, when lo, they found themselves in a dark land and a desert, full of black rocks and stones, as it were a piece of Hell; and the Prince asked the Jinni, “What is the name of this land?” Answered the other, “It is called the Black Country, and belongs to one of the Kings of the Jinn, by name Zu’l Janahayn, against whom none of the other Kings may prevail, neither may any enter his dominions save by his permit; so tarry thou here, whilst I go ask leave.” So saying, he went away and, returning after awhile, they fared on again, till they landed at a spring of water welling forth of a black rock, and the King’s son of the Jinn said to the King’s son of men, “Alight!” He dismounted and the other cried, “Drink of this water!” So he drank of the spring without stay or delay; and, no sooner had he done so than, by grace of Allah, he became a man as before. At this he joyed with exceeding joy and asked the Jinni, “O my brother, how is this spring called?” Answered the other, “It is called the Women’s Spring, for that no woman drinketh thereof but she becometh a man: wherefore do thou praise Allah the Most High and thank Him for thy restoration and mount.” So the Prince prostrated himself in gratitude to the Almighty, after which he mounted again and they fared on diligently all that day, till they returned to the Jinni’s home, where the Prince passed the night in all solace of life. They spent the next day in eating and drinking till nightfall, when the King’s son of the Jinn asked the Prince, “Hast thou a mind to return to thy people this very night?” “Yes,” he answered; “for indeed I long for them.” Then the Jinni called one of his father’s slaves, Rajiz1 hight, and said to him, “Take this young man mounted on thy shoulders, and let not the day dawn ere he be with his father-in-law and his wife.” Replied the slave, “Hearkening and obedience, and with love and gladness, and upon my head and eyes!” then, withdrawing awhile, re-appeared in the form of an Ifrit. When the Prince saw this, he lost his senses for affright, but the Jinni said to him, “Fear not; no harm shall befal thee. Mount thy horse and leap him on to the Ifrit’s shoulders.” “Nay,” answered he, “I will leave my horse with thee and bestride his shoulders myself.” So he bestrode the Ifrit’s shoulders and, when the Jinni cried, “Close thine eyes, O my lord, and be not a craven!” he strengthened his heart and shut his eyes. Thereupon the Ifrit rose with him into the air and ceased not to fly between sky and earth, whilst the Prince was unconscious, nor was the last third of the night come before he alighted down with him on the terrace-roof of his father-in-law’s palace. Then said the Ifrit, “Dismount and open thine eyes; for this is the palace of thy father-in-law and his daughter.” So he came down and the Ifrit flew away and left him on the roof of the palace. When the day broke and the Prince recovered from his troubles, he descended into the palace and as his father-in-law caught sight of him, he came to meet him and marvelled to see him descend from the roof of the palace, saying, “We see folk enter by the doors; but thou comest from the skies.” Quoth the Prince, “Whatso Allah (may He be extolled and exalted!) willeth that cometh to pass.” And he told him all that had befallen him, from first to last, whereat the King marvelled and rejoiced in his safety; and, as soon as the sun rose, bade his Wazir make ready splendid bride-feasts. So did he and they held the marriage festival: after which the Prince went in unto his bride and abode with her two months, then departed with her for his father’s capital. As for the damsel’s cousin, he died forthright of envy and jealousy. When the Prince and his bride drew near his father’s city, the King came out to meet them with his troops and Wazirs, and so Allah (blessed and exalted be He!) enabled the Prince to prevail against his bride’s cousin and his father’s Minister. “And I pray the Almighty” (added the damsel) “to aid thee against thy Wazirs, O King, and I beseech thee to do me justice on thy son!” When the King heard this, he bade put his son to death; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In the Bresl. Edit. “Zájir” (xii. 286).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the favourite had told her tale to the King she said, “I beseech thee to do me justice by putting thy son to death.” Now this was the fourth day, so the fourth Wazir entered and, kissing the ground before him, said, “Allah stablish and protect the King! O King, be deliberate in doing this thou art resolved upon, for the wise man doth naught till he hath considered the issue thereof, and the proverb saith, ‘Whoso looketh not to his actions’ end, hath not the world to friend; and whoso acteth without consideration, there befalleth him what befel the Hammam-keeper with his wife.’” “And what betided him?” asked the King. And the Wazir answered, “I have heard tell, O King, a tale of the
There was once a bath-keeper, to whom resorted the notables of the folk and head men, and one day there came in to him a handsome youth of the sons of Wazirs who was fat and bulky of body. So he stood to serve him and when the young man put off his clothes2 he saw not his yard, for that it was hidden between his thighs, by reason of the excess of his fat, and there appeared thereof but what was like unto a filbert.3 At this the bath-keeper fell a-lamenting and smiting hand upon hand, which when the youth saw, he said to him, “What ails thee, O bath-keeper, to lament thus?” And he answered, saying, “O my lord, my lamentation is for thee, because thou art in sore straits, for all thy fair fortune and goodliness and exceeding comeliness, seeing thou hast naught wherewithal to do and receive delight, like unto other men.” Quoth the youth, “Thou sayst sooth, but thou mindest me of somewhat I had forgotten.” “What is that?” asked the bathkeeper, and the youth answered, “Take this gold piece and fetch me a pretty woman, that I may prove my nature on her.” So he took the money and betaking himself to his wife, said to her, “O woman, there is come to me in the bath a young man of the sons of the Wazirs, as he were the moon on the fullest night; but he hath no prickle like other men, for that which he hath is but some small matter like unto a filbert. I lamented over his youth and he gave me this dinar and asked me to fetch him a woman on whom he might approve himself. Now thou art worthier of the money than another, and from this no harm shall betide us, for I will protect thee. So do thou sit with him awhile and laugh at him and take this dinar from him.” So the good wife took the dinar and rising, adorned herself and donned the richest of her raiment. Now she was the fairest woman of her time. Then she went out with her husband and he carried her in to the Wazir’s son in a privy place. When she came in to him, she looked at him and finding him a handsome youth, fair of favour as he were the moon at full, was confounded at his beauty and loveliness; and on like wise his heart and wit were amazed at the first sight of her and the sweetness of her smile. So he rose forthright and locking the door, took the damsel in his arms and pressed her to his bosom and they embraced, whereupon the young man’s yard swelled and rose on end, as it were that of a jackass, and he rode upon her breast and futtered her, whilst she sobbed and sighed and writhed and wriggled under him. Now the bathkeeper was standing behind the door, awaiting what should betide between them, and he began to call her saying, “O Umm Abdillah, enough! Come out, for the day is long upon thy sucking child.” Quoth the youth, “Go forth to thy boy and come back;” but quoth she, “If I go forth from thee, my soul will depart my body; as regards the child, so I must either leave him to die of weeping or let him be reared an orphan, without a mother.” So she ceased not to abide with him till he had done his desire of her ten times running, while her husband stood at the door, calling her and crying out and weeping and imploring succour. But none came to aid him and he ceased not to do thus, saying, “I will slay myself!”; till at last, finding no way of access to his wife, and being distraught with rage and jealousy, to hear her sighing and murmuring and breathing hard under the young man, he went up to the top of the bath and, casting himself down therefrom, died. “Moreover, O King” (continued the Wazir), “there hath reached me another story of the malice of women.” “What is that?” asked the King, and the Wazir said, “Know, O King, that it is anent
1 This is the “King’s Son and the Merchant’s Wife” of the Hitopadesa (chapt. i.) transferred to all the Prakrit versions of India. It is the Story of the Bath-keeper who conducted his Wife to the Son of the King of Kanuj in the Book of Sindibad.
2 The pious Caliph Al–Muktadi bi Amri ’llah (A.H. 467=A.D. 1075) was obliged to forbid men entering the baths of Baghdad without drawers.
3 This peculiarity is not uncommon amongst the so-called Aryan and Semitic races, while to the African it is all but unknown. Women highly prize a conformation which (as the prostitute described it) is always “either in his belly or in mine.”
There was once a woman who had no equal in her day for beauty and loveliness and grace and perfection; and a certain lewd youth and an obscene setting eyes on her, fell in love with her and loved her with exceeding passion, but she was chaste and inclined not to adultery. It chanced one day that her husband went on a journey to a certain town, whereupon the young man fell to sending to her many times a day; but she made him no reply. At last, he resorted to an old woman, who dwelt hard by, and after saluting her he sat down and complained to her of his sufferings for love of the woman and his longing to enjoy her. Quoth she, “I will warrant thee this; no harm shall befal thee, for I will surely bring thee to thy desire, Inshallah, — an it please Allah the Most High!” At these words he gave her a dinar and went his way. When the morning morrowed she appeared before the woman and, renewing an old acquaintance with her, fell to visiting her daily, eating the undertime with her and the evening meal and carrying away food for her children. Moreover, she used to sport and jest with her, till the wife became corrupted1 and could not endure an hour without her company. Now she was wont, when she left the lady’s house, to take bread and fat wherewith she mixed a little pepper and to feed a bitch, that was in that quarter; and thus she did day by day, till the bitch became fond of her and followed her wherever she went. One day she took a cake of dough and, putting therein an overdose of pepper, gave it to the bitch to eat, whereupon the beast’s eyes began to shed tears, for the heat of the pepper, and she followed the old woman, weeping. When the lady saw this she was amazed and asked the ancient, “O my mother, what ails this bitch to weep?” Answered she, “Learn, O my heart’s love, that hers is a strange story. Know that she was once a close friend of mine, a lovely and accomplished young lady, a model of comeliness and perfect grace. A young Nazarene of the quarter fell in love with her and his passion and pining increased on him, till he took to his pillow, and he sent to her times manifold, begging her to have compassion on him and show him mercy, but she refused, albeit I gave her good counsel, saying, “O my daughter, have pity on him and be kind and consent to all he wisheth.” She gave no heed to my advice, until, the young man’s patience failing him, he complained at last to one of his friends, who cast an enchantment on her and changed her human shape into canine form. When she saw what transformation had befallen her and that there was none to pity her case save myself, she came to my house and began to fawn on me and buss my hands and feet and whine and shed tears, till I recognised her and said to her, ‘How often did I not warn thee?; but my advice profited thee naught.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Easterns, I have said, are perfectly aware of the fact that women corrupt women much more than men do. The tale is the “Story of the Libertine Husband” in the Book of Sindibad; blended with the “Story of the Go-between and the Bitch” in the Book of Sindibad. It is related in the “Disciplina Clericalis” of Alphonsus (A.D. 1106); the fabliau of La vieille qui seduisit la jeune fille; the Gesta Romanorum (thirteenth century) and the “Cunning Siddhikari” in the Kathá-Sarit-Ságara.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old trot related to the young lady the tale of the bitch and recounted the case in her cunning and deceit, with the view to gain her consent and said to her, “When the enchanted beast came to me and wept I reminded her, ‘How often did I not warn thee?; but my advice profited thee naught.’ However, O my daughter, seeing her misery, I had compassion on her case and kept her by me; and as often as she bethinketh herself of her former estate, she weepeth thus, in pity for herself.” When the lady heard this, she was taken with great alarm and said, “O my mother, by Allah, thou affrightest me with this thy story.” “Why so?” asked the old woman. Answered the lady, “Because a certain handsome young man fell in love with me and hath sent many times to me, but hitherto I have repelled him; and now I fear lest there befal me the like of what befel this bitch.” “O my daughter,” rejoined the old woman, “look thou to what I counsel thee and beware of crossing me, for I am in great fear for thee. If thou know not his abiding-place, describe his semblance to me, that I may fetch him to thee, and let not any one’s heart be angered against thee.” So the lady described him to her, and she showed not to know him and said, “When I go out, I will ask after him.” But when she left the lady, she went straight to the young man and said to him, “Be of good cheer, for I have played with the girl’s wits; so to-morrow at noon wait thou at the head of the street, till I come and carry thee to her house, where thou shalt take thine ease with her the rest of the day and all night long.” At this the young man rejoiced with exceeding joy and gave her two dinars, saying, “When I have won my wish of her, I will give thee ten gold pieces.” Then she returned to the lady and said to her, “I have seen him and spoken with him on this matter. I found him exceeding wroth with thee and minded to do thee a harm, but I plied him with fair words till he agreed to come to-morrow at the time of the call to noon-prayer.” When the lady heard this she rejoiced exceedingly and said, “O my mother, if he keep his promise, I will give thee ten dinars.” Quoth the old woman, “Look to his coming from none but from me.” When the next morn morrowed she said to the lady, “Make ready the early meal and forget not the wine and adorn thyself and don thy richest dress and decoration, whilst I go and fetch him to thee.” So she clad herself in her finest finery and prepared food, whilst the old woman went out to look for the young man, who came not. So she went around searching for him, but could come by no news of him, and she said to herself, “What is to be done? Shall the food and drink she hath gotten ready be wasted and I lose the gold pieces she promised me? Indeed, I will not allow my cunning contrivance to come to naught, but will look her out another man and carry him to her.” So she walked about the highways till her eyes fell on a pretty fellow, young and distinguished-looking, to whom the folk bowed and who bore in his face the traces of travel. She went up to him and saluting him, asked, “Hast thou a mind to meat and drink and a girl adorned and ready?” Answered he, “Where is this to be had?” “At home, in my house,” rejoined she and carrying him to his own house, knocked at the door. The lady opened to them and ran in again, to make an end of her dressing and perfuming; whilst the wicked old woman brought the man, who was the husband and house-master, into the saloon and made him sit down congratulating herself on her cunning contrivance. Presently in walked the lady, who no sooner set eyes on her husband sitting by the old trot than she knew him and guessed how the case stood; nevertheless, she was not taken aback and without stay or delay bethought her of a device to hoodwink him. So she pulled off her outer boot and cried at her husband, “Is this how thou keepest the contract between us? How canst thou betray me and deal thus with me? Know that, when I heard of thy coming, I sent this old woman to try thee and she hath made thee fall into that against which I warned thee: so now I am certified of thine affair and that thou hast broken faith with me. I thought thee chaste and pure till I saw thee, with my own eyes, in this old woman’s company and knew that thou didst frequent loose baggages.” So saying, she fell to beating him with her slipper about the head, and crying out, “Divorce me! Divorce me!”; whilst he excused himself and swore to her, by Allah the Most High, that he had never in his life been untrue to her nor had done aught of that whereof she suspected him. But she stinted not to weep and scream and bash him, crying out and saying, “Come to my help, O Moslems!”; till he laid hold of her mouth with his hand and she bit it. Moreover, he humbled himself to her and kissed her hands and feet, whilst she would not be appeased and continued to cuff him. At last, she winked at the old woman to come and hold her hand from him. So she came up to her and kissed her hands and feet, till she made peace between them and they sat down together; whereupon the husband began to kiss her hands, saying, “Allah Almighty requite thee with all good, for that thou hast delivered me from her!” And the old woman marvelled at the wife’s cunning and ready wit. “This, then, O King” (said the Wazir) “is one of many instances of the craft and malice and perfidy of women.” When the King heard this story, he was persuaded by it and turned from his purpose to slay his son; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the fourth Wazir had told his tale, the King turned from his purpose to slay his son; but, on the fifth day, the damsel came in to him hending a bowl of poison in hand, calling on Heaven for help and buffeting her cheeks and face, and said to him, “O King, either thou shalt do me justice and avenge me on thy son, or I will drink up this poison-cup and die, and the sin of my blood shall be on thy head at the Day of Doom. These thy Ministers accuse me of malice and perfidy, but there be none in the world more perfidious than men. Hast thou not heard the story of the Goldsmith and the Cashmere1 singing-girl?” “What befel the twain, O damsel?” asked the King; and she answered, saying, “There hath come to my knowledge, O august King, a tale of the
1 The Kashmir people, men and women, have a very bad name in Eastern tales, the former for treachery and the latter for unchastity. A Persian distich says:
If folk be scarce as food in dearth ne’er let three lots come near ye:
First Sindi, second Jat, and third a rascally Kashmeeree.
The women have fair skins and handsome features but, like all living in that zone, Persians, Sindis, Afghans, etc., their bosoms fall after the first child and become like udders. This is not the case with Hindú women, Rajpúts, Maráthís, etc.
There lived once, in a city of Persia a goldsmith who delighted in women and in drinking wine. One day, being in the house of one of his intimates, he saw painted on the wall the figure of a lutanist, a beautiful damsel, beholder never beheld a fairer or a more pleasant. He looked at the picture again and again, marvelling at its beauty, and fell so desperately in love with it, that he sickened for passion and came near to die. It chanced that one of his friends came to visit him and sitting down by his side, asked how he did and what ailed him, whereto the goldsmith answered, “O my brother, that which ails me is love, and it befel on this wise. I saw a figure of a woman painted on the house-wall of my brother such an one and became enamoured of it.” Hereupon the other fell to blaming him and said, “This was of thy lack of wit; how couldst thou fall in love with a painted figure on a wall, that can neither harm nor profit, that seeth not neither heareth, that neither taketh nor withholdeth.” Said the sick man, “He who painted yonder picture never could have limned it save after the likeness of some beautiful woman.” “Haply,” rejoined his friend, “he painted it from imagination.” “In any case,” replied the goldsmith, “here am I dying for love of the picture, and if there live the original thereof in the world, I pray Allah Most High to protect my life till I see her.” When those who were present went out, they asked for the painter of the picture and, finding that he had travelled to another town, wrote him a letter, complaining of their comrade’s case and enquiring whether he had drawn the figure of his own inventive talents or copied it from a living model; to which he replied, “I painted it after a certain singing-girl belonging to one of the Wazirs in the city of Cashmere in the land of Hind.” When the goldsmith heard this, he left Persia for Cashmere-city, where he arrived after much travail. He tarried awhile there till one day he went and clapped up an acquaintance with a certain of the citizens who was a druggist, a fellow of a sharp wit, keen, crafty; and, being one even-tide in company with him, asked him of their King and his polity; to which the other answered, saying, “Well, our King is just and righteous in his governance, equitable to his lieges and beneficent to his commons and abhorreth nothing in the world save sorcerers; but, whenever a sorcerer or sorceress falls into his hands, he casteth them into a pit without the city and there leaveth them in hunger to die.” Then he questioned him of the King’s Wazirs, and the druggist told him of each Minister, his fashion and condition, till the talk came round to the singing-girl and he told him, “She belongeth to such a Wazir.” The goldsmith took note of the Minister’s abiding place and waited some days, till he had devised a device to his desire; and one night of rain and thunder and stormy winds, he provided himself with thieves’ tackle and repaired to the house of the Wazir who owned the damsel. Here he hanged a rope-ladder with grappling-irons to the battlements and climbed up to the terrace-roof of the palace. Thence he descended to the inner court and, making his way into the Harim, found all the slave-girls lying asleep, each on her own couch; and amongst them reclining on a couch of alabaster and covered with a coverlet of cloth of gold a damsel, as she were the moon rising on a fourteenth night. At her head stood a candle of ambergris, and at her feet another, each in a candlestick of glittering gold, her brilliancy dimming them both; and under her pillow lay a casket of silver, wherein were her Jewels. He raised the coverlet and drawing near her, considered her straitly, and behold, it was the lutanist whom he desired and of whom he was come in quest. So he took out a knife and wounded her in the back parts, a palpable outer wound, whereupon she awoke in terror; but, when she saw him, she was afraid to cry out, thinking he came to steal her goods. So she said to him, “Take the box and what is therein, but slay me not, for I am in thy protection and under thy safe-guard1 and my death will profit thee nothing.” Accordingly, he took the box and went away. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 By these words she appealed to his honour.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the goldsmith had entered the Wazir’s palace he wounded the damsel slightly in the back parts and, taking the box which contained her jewels, wended his way. And when morning morrowed he donned clothes after the fashion of men of learning and doctors of the law and, taking the jewel-case went in therewith to the King of the city, before whom he kissed the ground and said to him, “O King, I am a devout man; withal a loyal well-wisher to thee and come hither a pilgrim to thy court from the land of Khorasan, attracted by the report of thy just governance and righteous dealing with thy subjects and minded to be under thy standard. I reached this city at the last of the day and finding the gate locked and barred, threw me down to sleep without the walls; but, as I lay betwixt sleep and wake, behold, I saw four women come up; one riding on a broom-stick, another on a wine-jar, a third on an oven-peel and a fourth on a black bitch,1 and I knew that they were witches making for thy city. One of them came up to me and kicked me with her foot and beat me with a fox’s tail she had in her hand, hurting me grievously, whereat I was wroth and smote her with a knife I had with me, wounding her in the back parts, as she turned to flee from me. When she felt the wound, she fled before me and in her flight let drop this casket, which I picked up and opening, found these costly jewels therein. So do thou take it, for I have no need thereof, being a wanderer in the mountains2 who hath rejected the world from my heart and renounced it and all that is in it, seeking only the face of Allah the Most High.” Then he set the casket before the King and fared forth. The King opened the box and emptying out all the trinkets it contained, fell to turning them over with his hand, till he chanced upon a necklace whereof he had made gift to the Wazir to whom the girl belonged. Seeing this, he called the Minister in question and said to him, “This is the necklace I gave thee?” He knew it at first sight and answered, “It is; and I gave it to a singing girl of mine.” Quoth the King, “Fetch that girl to me forthwith.” So he fetched her to him, and he said, “Uncover her back parts and see if there be a wound therein or no.” The Wazir accordingly bared her backside and finding a knife-wound there, said, “Yes, O my lord, there is a wound.” Then said the King, “This is the witch of whom the devotee told me, and there can be no doubt of it,” and bade cast her into the witches’ well. So they carried her thither at once. As soon as it was night and the goldsmith knew that his plot had succeeded, he repaired to the pit, taking with him a purse of a thousand dinars, and, entering into converse with the warder, sat talking with him till a third part of the night was passed, when he broached the matter to him, saying, “Know, O my brother, that this girl is innocent of that they lay to her charge and that it was I brought this calamity upon her.” Then he told him the whole story, first and last, adding, “Take, O my brother, this purse of a thousand dinars and give me the damsel, that I may carry her to my own land, for these gold pieces will profit thee more than keeping her in prison; moreover Allah will requite thee for us, and we too will both offer up prayers for thy prosperity and safety.” When the warder heard this story, he marvelled with exceeding marvel at that device and its success; then taking the money, he delivered the girl to the goldsmith, conditioning that he should not abide one hour with her in the city. Thereupon the goldsmith took the girl and fared on with her, without ceasing, till he reached his own country and so he won his wish. “See, then, O King” (said the damsel), “the malice of men and their wiles. Now thy Wazirs hinder thee from doing me justice on thy son; but to-morrow we shall stand, both thou and I, before the Just Judge, and He shall do me justice on thee, O King.” When the King heard this, he commanded to put his son to death; but the fifth Wazir came in to him and kissing the ground before him, said, “O mighty King, delay and hasten not to slay thy son: speed will oftentimes repentance breed; and I fear for thee lest thou repent, even as did the man who never laughed for the rest of his days.” “And how was that, O Wazir?” asked the King. Quoth he, “I have heard tell, O King, this tale concerning
There was once a man who was rich in lands and houses and monies and goods, eunuchs and slaves, and he died and went to the mercy of Allah the Most High; leaving a young son, who, when he grew up, gave himself to feasting and carousing and hearing music and singing and the loud laughter of parasites; and he wasted his substance in gifts and prodigality till he had squandered all the money his father left him, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young man, when he had squandered all the money his father had left him and naught thereof remained to him, betook himself to selling his slaves and handmaids, lands and houses and spent the proceeds on like wise, till he was reduced to beggary and must needs labour for his living. He abode thus a year’s space, at the end of which time he was sitting one day under a wall, awaiting who should hire him when behold, there came up to him an old man of comely aspect and apparel and saluted him. The young man asked, “O uncle, hast thou known me aforetime?” and the other answered, “Not so, O my son, I know thee not at all, at all; but I see the trace of gentle breeding on thee despite thy present case.” “O uncle, “ rejoined the poor man, “needs must Fate and Fortune be accomplished; but, O uncle, O bright of blee, hast thou any occasion wherein thou wouldst employ me?” Said the other, “I wish, O my son, to employ thee in a slight matter.” “What is it?” quoth the young man, and quoth the stranger, “We are eleven old men in one house, but we have none to serve us; so an thou wilt stay and take service with us, thou shalt have food and clothing to thy heart’s content, besides what cometh to thee of coin and other good; and haply Allah will restore thee thy fortune by our means.” Replied the youth, “Hearkening and obedience!” “But I have a condition to impose on thee.” “What is that?” “O my son, it is that thou keep our secret in what thou seest us do, and if thou see us weep, that thou question us not of the cause of our weeping.” “It is well, O uncle;” “Come with me, O my son, with the blessing of Allah Almighty.” So he followed him to the bath, where the old man caused cleanse his body of the crusted dirt, after which he sent one to fetch a handsome garment of linen and clad him therein. Then he carried him to his company which was in his domicile and the youth found a house lofty and spacious and strongly builded, wherein were sitting-chambers facing one another; and saloons, in each one a fountain of water, with the birds warbling over it, and windows on every side, giving upon a fair garden within the house. The old man brought him into one of the parlours, which was variegated with many-coloured marbles, the ceiling thereof being decorated with ultramarine and glowing gold; and the floor bespread with silken carpets. Here he found ten Shaykhs in mourning apparel, seated one opposite other, weeping and wailing. He marvelled at their case and purposed to ask the reason, when he remembered the condition and held his peace. Then he who had brought him delivered to him a chest containing thirty thousand dinars and said to him, “O my son, spend freely from this chest what is fitting for our entertainment and thine own; and be thou faithful and remember that wherewith I charged thee.” “I hear and I obey, “ answered he and served them days and nights, till one of them died, whereupon his fellows washed him and shrouded him and buried him in a garden behind the house,1 nor did death cease to take them, one after other, till there remained but the Shaykh who had hired the youth for service. Then the two men, old and young, dwelt together in that house alone for years and years, nor was there with them a third save Allah the Most High, till the elder fell sick; and when the younger despaired of his life, he went up to him and condoling with him, said, “O nuncle mine, I have waited upon you twelve years and have not failed of my duties a single hour, but have been loyal and faithful to you and served you with my might and main.” “Yes, O my son,” answered the old man, “thou hast served us well until all my comrades are gone to the mercy of Allah (to whom belong honour and glory!) and needs must I die also.” “O my lord,” said the other, “thou art in danger of death and I would fain have thee acquaint me with the cause of your weeping and wailing and of your unceasing mourning and lamentation and regrets.” “O my son,” answered the old man, “it concerns thee not to know this, so importune me not of what I may not do: for I have vowed to Almighty Allah that I would acquaint none of His creatures with this, lest he be afflicted with what befel me and my comrades. If, then, thou desire to be delivered from that into which we fell, look thou open not yonder door, “2 and pointed to a certain part of the house; “but, if thou have a mind to suffer what we have suffered, then open it and thou shalt learn the cause of that thou hast seen us do; and whenas thou knowest it, thou shalt repent what time repentance will avail thee not.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the surviving Shaykh of the ten said to the youth, “Beware how thou open yonder door or thou shalt repent what time repentance will avail thee not.” Then his sickness grew on him and he accomplished his term and departed life to the presence of his Lord; and the young man washed him with his own hands and shrouded him and buried him by the side of his comrades; after which he abode alone in the place and took possession of whatsoever was therein. Withal he was uneasy and troubled concerning the case of the old men, till, one day, as he sat pondering the words of his dead master and his injunction not to open the door, he suddenly bethought himself to go and look for it. So he rose up and repaired to the part whither the dead man had pointed and sought till, in a dark unfrequented corner, he found a little door, over which the spider had spun her webs and which was fastened with four padlocks of steel. Seeing this he recalled the old man’s warning and restrained himself and went away; and he held aloof from it seven days, whilst all the time his heart prompted him to open it. On the eighth day his curiosity got the better of him and he said, “Come what will, needs must I open the door and see what will happen to me therefrom. Nothing can avert what is fated and fore-ordained of Allah the Most High; nor doth aught befal but by His will.” So saying, he rose and broke the padlocks and opening the door saw a narrow passage, which he followed for some three hours when lo! he came out on the shore of a vast ocean1 and fared on along the beach, marvelling at this main, whereof he had no knowledge and turning right and left. Presently, a great eagle swooped down upon him from the lift and seizing him in its talons, flew away with him betwixt heaven and earth, till it came to an island in the midst of the sea, where it cast him down and flew away. The youth was dazed and knew not whither he should wend, but after a few days as he sat pondering his case, he caught sight of the sails of a ship in the middlemost of the main, as it were a star in the sky; and his heart clave to it, so haply his deliverance might be therein. He continued gazing at the ship, until it drew nigh, when he saw that it was a foyst builded all of ivory and ebony, inlaid with glistening gold made fast by nails of steel, with oars of sandal and lign-aloes. In it were ten damsels, high-bosomed maids, as they were moons; and when they saw him, they came ashore to him and kissed his hands, saying, “Thou art the King, the Bridegroom!” Then there accosted him a young lady, as she were the sun shining in sky serene bearing in hand a silken napkin, wherein were a royal robe and a crown of gold set with all manner rubies and pearls. She threw the robe over him and set the crown upon his head, after which the damsels bore him on their arms to the foyst, where he found all kinds of silken carpets and hangings of various colours. Then they spread the sails and stretched out into mid-ocean. Quoth the young man, “Indeed, when they put to sea with me, meseemed it was a dream and I knew not whither they were wending with me. Presently, we drew near to land, and I saw the shore full of troops none knoweth their number save Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and all were magnificently arrayed and clad in complete steel. As soon as the vessel had made fast to the land, they brought me five marked2 horses of noble breeds, housed and saddled with gold, inlaid with all manner pearls and high-priced bezel stones. I chose out one of them and mounted it, whilst they led the four others before me. Then they raised the banners and the standards over my head, whilst the troops ranged themselves right and left, and we set out, with drums beating and cymbals clashing, and rode on; whilst I debated in myself whether I were in sleep or on wake; and we never ceased faring, I believing not in that my estate, but taking all this for the imbroglio of a dream, till we drew near to the green mead, full of palaces and gardens and trees and streams and blooms and birds chanting the praises of Allah the One, the Victorious. Hereupon, behold, an army sallied out from amid the palaces and gardens, as it were the torrent when it poureth down,3 and the host overflowed the mead. These troops halted at a little distance from me and presently there rode forth from amongst them a King, preceded by some of his chief officers on foot.” When he came up to the young man (saith the tale-teller) he dismounted also, and the two saluted each other after the goodliest fashion. Then said the King, “Come with us, for thou art my guest.” So they took horse again and rode on stirrup touching stirrup in great and stately procession, conversing as they went, till they came to the royal palace, where they alighted together. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Mac. Edit. has “Nahr”= river.
2 i.e. marked with the Wasm or tribal sign to show their blood. The subject of Wasm is extensive and highly interesting, for many of these brands date doubtless from prehistoric ages. For instance, some of the great Anazah nation (not tribe) use a circlet, the initial of their name (an Ayn-letter), which thus shows the eye from which it was formed. I have given some specimens of Wasm in The Land of Midian (i. 320) where, as amongst the “Sinaitic” Badawin, various kinds of crosses are preserved long after the death and burial of Christianity.
3 i.e. from the heights. The “Sayl” is a dangerous feature in Arabia as in Southern India, where many officers have lost their lives by trying to swim it.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the two rode together in stately procession till they entered the palace, when the King taking the young man by the hand, led him into a domed room followed by his suite, and making him sit down on a throne of gold, seated himself beside him. Then he unbound the swathe from his lower face; and behold, the King was a young lady, like the splendid sun shining in the sheeny sky, perfect in beauty and loveliness, brilliancy and grace, arrogance1 and all perfection. The youth looked upon this singular blessing and embodied boon and was lost in wonder at her charms and comeliness and seemlihead and at the splendour and affluence he saw about him, when she said “Know, O King, that I am the Queen of this land and that all the troops thou hast seen, whether horse or foot, are women, there is no man amongst them; for in this our state the men delve and sow and ear and occupy themselves with the tillage of the earth and the building of towns and other mechanical crafts and useful arts, whilst the women govern and fill the great offices of state and bear arms.” At this the youth marvelled with exceeding marvel and, as they were in discourse, behold, in came the Wazir who was a tall gray-haired old woman of venerable semblance and majestic aspect, and it was told him that this was the Minister. Quoth the Queen to her, “Bring us the Kazi and witnesses.” So she went out to do this, and the Queen, turning to him, conversed with him in friendly fashion, and enforced herself to reassure his awe of her and do away his shame with speech blander than the zephyr, saying, “Art thou content to be to me baron and I to thee feme?” Thereupon he arose and would have kissed ground between her hands, but she forbade him and he replied, saying, “O my lady, I am the least of thy slaves who serve thee.” “Seest thou all these servants and soldiers and riches and hoards and treasures?” asked she, and he answered, “Yes!” Quoth she, “All these are at thy commandment to dispose of them and give and bestow as seemeth good to thee.” Then she pointed to a closed door and said, “All these things are at thy disposal, save yonder door; that shalt thou not open, and if thou open it thou shalt repent when repentance will avail thee naught. So beware! and again I say, beware!” Hardly had she made an end of speaking when the Waziress entered followed by the Kazii and witnesses, all old women, with their hair streaming over their shoulders and of reverend and majestic presence; and the Queen bade them draw up the contract of marriage between herself and the young man. Accordingly, they performed the marriage-ceremony and the Queen made a great bride-feast, to which she bade all the troops; and after they had eaten and drunken, he went in unto his bride and found her a maid virginal. So he did away her hymen and abode with her seven years in all joyance and solace and delight of life, till, one day of the days, he bethought himself of the forbidden door and said in himself, “Except there were therein treasures greater and grander than any I have seen, she had not forbidden me therefrom.” So he rose and opened the door, when, lo! behind it was the very bird which had brought him from the sea-shore to the island, and it said to him, “No welcome to a face that shall never prosper!” When he saw it and heard what it said, he fled from it; but it followed him and seizing him in its talons, flew with him an hour’s journey betwixt heaven and earth, till it set him down in the place whence it had first carried him off and flew away. When he came to his senses, he remembered his late estate, great, grand and glorious, and the troops which rode before him and his lordly rule and all the honour and fair fortune he had lost and fell to weeping and wailing.2 He abode two months on the sea-shore, where the bird had set him down, hoping yet to return to his wife, till, as he sat one night wakeful, mourning and musing, behold, he heard one speaking, albeit he saw no one, and saying, “How great were the delights! Alas, far from thee is the return of that which is past!” When he heard this, he redoubled in his regrets and despaired of recovering his wife and his fair estate that was; so he returned, weary and broken-hearted, to the house where he had dwelt with the old men and knew that they had fared even as he and that this was the cause of their shedding tears and lamenting their lot; wherefore he ever after held them excused. Then, being overcome with chagrin and concern, he took to his chamber and gave himself up to mourning and lamentation; and he ceased not crying and complaining and left eating and drinking and pleasant scents and merriment; nor did he laugh once till the day of his death, when they buried him beside the Shaykhs. “See, then, O King,” continued the Wazir “what cometh of precipitance; verily, it is unpraiseworthy and bequeatheth repentance; and in this I give thee true advice and loyal counsel.” When the King heard this story, he turned from slaying his son; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King heard this story he turned from slaying his son; but, on the sixth day, the favourite came in to him hending a naked knife in hand, and said to him, “Know, O my lord, that except thou hearken to my complaint and protect thy right and thine honour against these thy Ministers, who are banded together against me, to do me wrong, I will kill myself with this knife, and my blood will testify against thee on the Day of Doom. Indeed, they pretend that women are full of tricks and malice and perfidy; and they design thereby to defeat me of my due and hinder the King from doing me justice; but, behold, I will prove to thee that men are more perfidious than women by the story of a King among the Kings and how he gained access to the wife of a certain merchant.” “And what passed between them?” asked the King, and she answered, “I have heard tell, O august King, a tale of
A certain merchant, who was addicted to jealousy, had a wife that was a model of beauty and loveliness; and of the excess of his fear and jealousy of her, he would not abide with her in any town, but built her a pavilion without the city, apart from all other buildings. And he raised its height and strengthened its doors and provided them with curious locks; and when he had occasion to go into the city, he locked the doors and hung the keys about his neck.1 One day, when the merchant was abroad, the King’s son of that city came forth, to take his pleasure and solace in the open country without the walls, and seeing the solitary pavilion, stood still to examine it for a long while. At last he caught sight of a charming lady looking and leaning out of one of the windows,2 and being smitten with amazement at her grace and charms, cast about for a means of getting to her, but could find none. So he called up one of his pages, who brought him ink-case3 and paper and wrote her a letter, setting forth his condition for love of her. Then he set it on the pile-point of an arrow and shot it at the pavilion, and it fell in the garden, where the lady was then walking with her maidens. She said to one of the girls, “Hasten and bring me yon letter,” for she could read writing;4 and, when she had read it and understood what he said in it of his love and passion, yearning and longing, she wrote him a merciful reply, to the effect that she was smitten with a yet fiercer desire for him; and then threw the letter down to him from one of the windows of the pavilion. When he saw her, he picked up the reply and after reading it, came under the window and said to her, “Let me down a thread, that I may send thee this key; which do thou take and keep by thee.” So she let down a thread and he tied the key to it.5 Then he went away and repairing to one of his father’s Wazirs, complained to him of his passion for the lady and that he could not live without her; and the Minister said, “And how dost thou bid me contrive?” Quoth the Prince, “I would have thee set me in a chest6 and commit it to the merchant, feigning to him that it is thine and desiring him to keep it for thee in his country-house some days, that I may have my will of her; then do thou demand it back from him.” The Wazir answered, “With love and gladness.” So the Prince returned to his palace and fixing the padlock, the key whereof he had given the lady, on a chest he had by him, entered therein. Then the Wazir locked it upon him and setting it on a mule, carried it to the pavilion of the merchant, who, seeing the Minister, came forth to him and kissed his hands, saying, “Belike our lord the Wazir hath some need or business which we may have the pleasure and honour of accomplishing for him?” Quoth the Minister, “I would have thee set this chest in the safest and best place within thy house and keep it till I seek it of thee.” So the merchant made the porters carry it inside and set it down in one of his store-closets, after which he went out on business. As soon as he was gone, his wife arose and went up to the chest and unlocked it with the key the King’s son had given her, whereupon there came forth a youth like the moon. When she saw him, she donned her richest raiment and carried him to her sitting-saloon, where they abode seven days, eating and drinking and making merry: and as often as her husband came home, she put the Prince back into the chest and locked it upon him. One day the King asked for his son and the Wazir hurried off to the merchant’s place of business and sought of him the chest. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Eastern tale-tellers always harp upon this theme, the cunning precautions taken by mankind and their utter confusion by “Fate and Fortune.” In such matters the West remarks, “Ce que femme veut, Dieu veut.”
2 As favourite an occupation in Oriental lands as in Southern Europe and the Brazil, where the Quinta or country villa must be built by the road-side to please the mistress.
3 The ink-case would contain the pens; hence called in India Kalamdán=reed (pen) box. I have advised travellers to prefer the strong Egyptian article of brass to the Persian, which is of wood or papier-mâché, prettily varnished, but not to wear it in the waist-belt, as this is a sign of being a scribe. (Pilgrimage i. 353.)
4 The vulgar Eastern idea is that women are quite knowing enough without learning to read and write; and at all events they should not be taught anything beyond reading the Koran, or some clearly-written book. The contrast with modern Europe is great; greater still in Anglo–America of our day, and greatest with the new sects which propose “biunes” and “bisexuals” and “women robed with the sun.”
5 In the Bresl. Edit. the Prince ties a key to a second arrow and shoots it into the pavilion.
6 The “box-trick” has often been played with success, by Lord Byron amongst a host of others. The readiness with which the Wazir enters into the scheme is characteristic of oriental servility: an honest Moslem should at least put in a remonstrance.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir reached the merchant’s counting-house he asked for the box. The man accordingly repaired in haste to his pavilion, contrary to his custom and knocked at the door. When his wife was ware of him, she hurried the Prince back into the chest, but, in her confusion, forgot to lock it. The merchant bade the porters take it up and carry it to his house in the town. So they took up the box by the lid, whereupon it flew open and lo! the Prince was lying within. When the merchant saw him and knew him for the King’s son, he went out to the Wazir and said to him, “Go in, thou, and take the King’s son; for none of us may lay hands on him.” So the Minister went in and taking the Prince, went away with him. As soon as they were gone, the merchant put away his wife and swore that he would never marry again. “And,” continued the damsel, “I have heard tell, also, O King, a tale of
A certain man of rank once entered the slave-market and saw a page being cried for sale; so he bought him and carrying him home, said to his wife, “Take good care of him.” The lad abode there for a while till, one day, the man said to his wife, “Go forth to-morrow to the garden and take thy solace therein and amuse thyself and enjoy thyself.” And she replied, “With love and gladness!” Now when the page heard this, he made ready in secret meat and drink and fruits and desert, and sallied forth with them privily that night to the garden, where he laid the meat under one tree, the wine under another and the fruit and conserves under a third, in the way his mistress must pass. When morning morrowed the husband bade him accompany the lady to that garden carrying with him all the provisions required for the day; so she took horse and riding thither with him, dismounted and entered. Presently, as they were walking about, a crow croaked,2 and the page said, “Thou sayst sooth;” whereupon his mistress asked him, “Dost thou know what the crow said?”; and he answered, “Yes, O my lady, he said, Under yonder tree is meat; go and eat it.” So she said, “I see thou really dost understand them;” then she went up to the tree and, finding a dish of meat ready dressed, was assured that the youth told the truth and marvelled with exceeding marvel. They ate of the meat and walked about awhile, taking their pleasure in the garden, till the crow croaked a second time, and the page again replied, “Thou sayst sooth.” “What said he?” quoth the lady, and quoth the page, “O my lady, he saith that under such a tree are a gugglet of water flavoured with musk and a pitcher of old wine.” So she went up with him to the tree and, finding the wine and water there, redoubled in wonderment and the page was magnified in her eyes. They sat down and drank, then arose and walked in another part of the garden. Presently the crow croaked again and the page said, “Thou sayst sooth.” Said the lady, “What saith he now?” and the page replied, “He saith that under yonder tree are fruits, fresh and dried.” So they went thither and found all as he said and sat down and ate. Then they walked about again till the crow croaked a fourth time, whereupon the page took up a stone and threw it at him. Quoth she, “What said he, that thou shouldst stone him?” “O my lady,” answered he, “he said what I cannot tell thee.” “Say on,” rejoined she, “and be not abashed in my presence, for there is naught between me and thee.” But he ceased not to say, “No,” and she to press him to speak, till at last she conjured him to tell her, and he answered, “The crow said to me, ‘Do with thy lady even as doth her husband.’” When she heard his words she laughed till she fell backward and said, “This is a light matter, and I may not gainsay thee therein.” So saying, she went up to a tree and, spreading the carpet under it, lay down, and called to him to come and do her need, when, lo! her husband, who had followed them unawares and saw this, called out to the page, saying, “Harkye, boy! What ails thy mistress to lie there, weeping?” Answered the page, “O my lord, she fell off the tree and was killed;3 and none but Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) restored her to thee. Wherefore she lay down awhile to recover herself by rest.” When the lady saw her husband standing by her head, she rose and made a show of weakness and pain, saying, “O my back! O my sides! Come to my help, O my friends! I shall never survive this.” So her husband was deceived and said to the page, “Fetch thy mistress’s horse and set her thereon.” Then he carried her home, the boy holding one stirrup and the man the other and saying, “Allah vouchsafe thee ease and recovery!” “These then, O King,” (said the damsel) “are some instances of the craft of men and their perfidy; wherefore let not thy Wazirs turn thee from succouring me and doing me justice.” Then she wept, and when the King saw her weeping (for she was the dearest to him of all his slave-girls) he once more commanded to put his son to death; but the sixth Minister entered and kissing ground before him, said, “May the Almighty advance the King! Verily I am a loyal counsellor to thee, in that I counsel thee to deal deliberately in the matter of thy son;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This story appears familiar, but I have not found it easy to trace. In “The Book of Sindibad” (p. 83) it is apparently represented by a lacuna. In the Squire’s Tale of Chaucer Canace’s ring enables the wearer to understand bird-language, not merely to pretend as does the slave-boy in the text.
2 The crow is an ill-omened bird in Al-lslam and in Eastern Christendom. “The crow of cursed life and foul odour,” says the Book of Kalilah and Dimna (p. 44). The Hindus are its only protectors, and in this matter they follow suit with the Guebres. I may note that the word belongs to the days before “Aryan” and “Semitic” speech had parted; we find it in Heb. Oreb; Arab. Ghurab; Lat. Corvus; Engl. Crow, etc.
3 Again in the Hibernian sense of being “kilt.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the sixth Wazir said, “O King, deal deliberately in the matter of thy son; for falsehood is as smoke and fact is built on base which shall not be broken; yea, and the light of sooth dispelleth the night of untruth. Know that the perfidy of women is great, even as saith Allah the Most High in His Holy Book, “Verily, the malice of you is great.1 And indeed a tale hath reached me that a certain woman befooled the Chiefs of the State on such wise as never did any before her.” Asked the King, “And how was that?” And the Wazir answered, “I have heard tell a tale, O King, as follows concerning
1 Quoted in Night dlxxxii.; said by Kitfír or Itfír (Potiphar) when his wife (Ráil or Zulaykha) charged Joseph with attempting her chastity and he saw that the youth’s garment was whole in front and rent in rear. (Koran, chapt. xii.)
A woman of the daughters of the merchants was married to a man who was a great traveller. It chanced once that he set out for a far country and was absent so long that his wife, for pure ennui, fell in love with a handsome young man of the sons of the merchants, and they loved each other with exceeding love. One day, the youth quarrelled with another man, who lodged a complaint against him with the Chief of Police, and he cast him into prison. When the news came to the merchant’s wife his mistress, she wellnigh lost her wits; then she arose and donning her richest clothes repaired to the house of the Chief of Police. She saluted him and presented a written petition to this purport, “He thou hast clapped in jail is my brother, such and such, who fell out with such an one; and those who testified against him bore false witness. He hath been wrongfully imprisoned, and I have none other to come in to me nor to provide for my support; therefore I beseech thee of thy grace to release him.” When the magistrate had read the paper, he cast his eyes on her and fell in love with her forthright; so he said to her, “Go into the house, till I bring him before me; then I will send for thee and thou shalt take him.” “O my lord,” replied she, “I have none to protect me save Almighty Allah!: I am a stranger and may not enter any man’s abode.” Quoth the Wali, “I will not let him go, except thou come to my home and I take my will of thee.” Rejoined she, “If it must be so, thou must needs come to my lodging and sit and sleep the siesta and rest the whole day there.” “And where is thy abode?” asked he; and she answered, “In such a place,” and appointed him for such a time. Then she went out from him, leaving his heart taken with love of her, and she repaired to the Kazi of the city, to whom she said, “O our lord the Kazi!” He exclaimed, “Yes!” and she continued, “Look into my case, and thy reward be with Allah the Most High!” Quoth he, “Who hath wronged thee?” and quoth she, “O my lord, I have a brother and I have none but that one, and it is on his account that I come to thee; because the Wali hath imprisoned him for a criminal and men have borne false witness against him that he is a wrong-doer; and I beseech thee to intercede for him with the Chief of Police.” When the Kazi looked on her, he fell in love with her forthright and said to her, “Enter the house and rest awhile with my handmaids whilst I send to the Wali to release thy brother. If I knew the money-fine which is upon him, I would pay it out of my own purse, so I may have my desire of thee, for thou pleasest me with thy sweet speech.” Quoth she, “If thou, O my lord, do thus, we must not blame others.” Quoth he, “An thou wilt not come in, wend thy ways.” Then said she, “An thou wilt have it so, O our lord, it will be privier and better in my place than in thine, for here are slave-girls and eunuchs and goers-in and comers-out, and indeed I am a woman who wotteth naught of this fashion; but need compelleth.” Asked the Kazi, “And where is thy house?”; and she answered, “In such a place,” and appointed him for the same day and time as the Chief of Police. Then she went out from him to the Wazir, to whom she preferred her petition for the release from prison of her brother who was absolutely necessary to her: but he also required her of herself, saying, “Suffer me to have my will of thee and I will set thy brother free.” Quoth she, “An thou wilt have it so, be it in my house, for there it will be privier both for me and for thee. It is not far distant and thou knowest that which behoveth us women of cleanliness and adornment.” Asked he, “Where is thy house?” “In such a place,” answered she and appointed him for the same time as the two others. Then she went out from him to the King of the city and told him her story and sought of him her brother’s release. “Who imprisoned him?” enquired he; and she replied, “Twas thy Chief of Police.” When the King heard her speech, it transpierced his heart with the arrows of love and he bade her enter the palace with him, that he might send to the Kazi and release her brother. Quoth she, “O King, this thing is easy to thee, whether I will or nill; and if the King will indeed have this of me, it is of my good fortune; but, if he come to my house, he will do me the more honour by setting step therein, even as saith the poet,
‘O my friends, have ye seen or have ye heard
Of his visit whose virtues I hold so high?’”
Quoth the King, “We will not cross thee in this.” So she appointed him for the same time as the three others, and told him where her house was. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This witty tale, ending somewhat grossly here, has over-wandered the world. First we find it in the Kathá (S. S.) where Upakoshá, the merry wife of Vararuchi, disrobes her suitors, a family priest, a commander of the guard and the prince’s tutor, under plea of the bath and stows them away in baskets which suggest Falstaff’s “buck-basket.” In Miss Stokes’ “Indian Fairy Tales” the fair wife of an absent merchant plays a similar notable prank upon the Kotwal, the Wazir, the Kazi and the King; and akin to this is the exploit of Temal Rámákistnan, the Madrasi Tyl Eulenspiegel and Scogin who by means of a lady saves his life from the Rajah and the High Priest. Mr. G. H. Damant (pp. 357–360 of the “Indian Antiquary” of 1873) relates the “Tale of the Touchstone,” a legend of Dinahpur, wherein a woman “sells” her four admirers. In the Persian Tales ascribed to the Dervish “Mokles” (Mukhlis) of Isfahan, the lady Aruyá tricks and exposes a Kazi, a doctor and a governor. Boccaccio (viii. 1) has the story of a lady who shut up her gallant in a chest with her husband’s sanction; and a similar tale (ix. 1) of Rinuccio and Alexander with the corpse of Scannadeo (Throkh-god). Hence a Lydgate (circ. A.D. 1430) derived the plot of his metrical tale of “The Lady Prioress and her Three Sisters”; which was modified in the Netherlandish version by the introduction of the Long Wapper, a Flemish Robin Goodfellow. Followed in English the metrical tale of “The Wright’s Chaste Wife,” by Adam of Cobham (edited by Mr. Furnivall from a Ms. of circ. A.D. 1460) where the victims are a lord, a steward and a proctor. See also “The Master–Maid” in Dr. (now Sir George) Dasent’s “Popular Tales from the Norse,” Mr. Clouston, who gives these details more fully, mentions a similar Scottish story concerning a lascivious monk and the chaste wife of a miller.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the woman told the King where her house was and appointed him for the same time as the Wali, the Kazi and the Wazir. Then she left him and betaking herself to a man which was a carpenter, said to him, “I would have thee make me a cabinet with four compartments one above other, each with its door for locking up. Let me know thy hire and I will give it thee.” Replied he, “My price will be four dinars; but, O noble lady and well-protected, if thou wilt vouchsafe me thy favours, I will ask nothing of thee.” Rejoined she, “An there be no help but that thou have it so, then make thou five compartments with their padlocks;” and she appointed him to bring it exactly on the day required. Said he, “It is well; sit down, O my lady, and I will make it for thee forthright, and after I will come to thee at my leisure.” So she sat down by him, whilst he fell to work on the cabinet, and when he had made an end of it she chose to see it at once carried home and set up in the sitting-chamber. Then she took four gowns and carried them to the dyer, who dyed them each of a different colour; after which she applied herself to making ready meat and drink; fruits, flowers and perfumes. Now when the appointed trysting day came, she donned her costliest dress and adorned herself and scented herself, then spread the sitting-room with various kinds of rich carpets and sat down to await who should come. And behold, the Kazi was the first to appear, devancing the rest, and when she saw him, she rose to her feet and kissed the ground before him; then, taking him by the hand, made him sit down by her on the couch and lay with him and fell to jesting and toying with him. By and by, he would have her do his desire, but she said, “O my lord, doff thy clothes and turband and assume this yellow cassock and this head-kerchief,1 whilst I bring thee meat and drink; and after thou shalt win thy will.” So saying, she took his clothes and turband and clad him in the cassock and the kerchief; but hardly had she done this, when lo! there came a knocking at the door. Asked he, “Who is that rapping at the door?” and she answered, “My husband.” Quoth the Kazi, “What is to be done, and where shall I go?” Quoth she, “Fear nothing, I will hide thee in this cabinet;” and he, “Do as seemeth good to thee.” So she took him by the hand and pushing him into the lowest compartment, locked the door upon him. Then she went to the house-door, where she found the Wali; so she bussed ground before him and taking his hand brought him into the saloon, where she made him sit down and said to him, “O my lord, this house is thy house; this place is thy place, and I am thy handmaid: thou shalt pass all this day with me; wherefore do thou doff thy clothes and don this red gown, for it is a sleeping gown.” So she took away his clothes and made him assume the red gown and set on his head an old patched rag she had by her; after which she sat by him on the divan and she sported with him while he toyed with her awhile, till he put out his hand to her. Whereupon she said to him, “O our lord, this day is thy day and none shall share in it with thee; but first, of thy favour and benevolence, write me an order for my brother’s release from gaol that my heart may be at ease.” Quoth he, “Hearkening and obedience: on my head and eyes be it!”; and wrote a letter to his treasurer, saying, “As soon as this communication shall reach thee, do thou set such an one free, without stay or delay; neither answer the bearer a word.” Then he sealed it and she took it from him, after which she began to toy again with him on the divan when, behold, some one knocked at the door. He asked, “Who is that?” and she answered, “My husband.” “What shall I do?” said he, and she, “Enter this cabinet, till I send him away and return to thee.” So she clapped him into the second compartment from the bottom and padlocked the door on him; and meanwhile the Kazi heard all they said. Then she went to the house-door and opened it, whereupon lo! the Wazir entered. She bussed the ground before him and received him with all honour and worship, saying, “O my lord, thou exaltest us by thy coming to our house; Allah never deprive us of the light of thy countenance!” Then she seated him on the divan and said to him, “O my lord, doff thy heavy dress and turband and don these lighter vestments.” So he put off his clothes and turband and she clad him in a blue cassock and a tall red bonnet, and said to him, “Erst thy garb was that of the Wazirate; so leave it to its own time and don this light gown, which is better fitted for carousing and making merry and sleep.” Thereupon she began to play with him and he with her, and he would have done his desire of her; but she put him off, saying, “O my lord, this shall not fail us.” As they were talking there came a knocking at the door, and the Wazir asked her, “Who is that?”: to which she answered, “My husband.” Quoth he, “What is to be done?” Quoth she, “Enter this cabinet, till I get rid of him and come back to thee and fear thou nothing.” So she put him in the third compartment and locked the door on him, after which she went out and opened the house-door when lo and behold! in came the King. As soon as she saw him she kissed ground before him, and taking him by the hand, led him into the saloon and seated him on the divan at the upper end. Then said she to him, “Verily, O King, thou dost us high honour, and if we brought thee to gift the world and all that therein is, it would not be worth a single one of thy steps us-wards.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1When Easterns sit down to a drinking bout, which means to get drunk as speedily and pleasantly as possible, they put off dresses of dull colours and robe themselves in clothes supplied by the host, of the brightest he may have, especially yellow, green and red of different shades. So the lady’s proceeding was not likely to breed suspicion: al — though her tastes were somewhat fantastic and like Miss Julia’s — peculiar.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King entered the lady’s house she said to him, “Had we brought thee to gift the world and all which is therein, it would not be worth a single one of thy steps us-wards.” And when he had taken his seat upon the divan she said, “Give me leave to speak one word.” “Say what thou wilt,” answered he, and she said, “O my lord, take thine ease and doff thy dress and turband.” Now his clothes were worth a thousand dinars; and when he put them off she clad him in a patched gown, worth at the very most ten dirhams, and fell to talking and jesting with him; all this while the folk in the cabinet hearing everything that passed, but not daring to say a word. Presently, the King put his hand to her neck and sought to do his desire of her; when she said, “This thing shall not fail us, but I had first promised myself to entertain thee in this sitting-chamber, and I have that which shall content thee.” Now as they were speaking, some one knocked at the door and he asked her, “Who is that?” “My husband,” answered she, and he, “Make him go away of his own good will, or I will fare forth to him and send him away perforce.” Replied she, “Nay, O my lord, have patience till I send him away by my skilful contrivance.” “And I, how shall I do!” enquired the King; whereupon she took him by the hand and making him enter the fourth compartment of the cabinet, locked it upon him. Then she went out and opened the house-door when behold, the carpenter entered and saluted her. Quoth she, “What manner of thing is this cabinet thou hast made me?” “What aileth it, O my lady?” asked he, and she answered, “The top compartment is too strait.” Rejoined he, “Not so;” and she, “Go in thyself and see; it is not wide enough for thee.” Quoth he, “It is wide enough for four,” and entered the fifth compartment, whereupon she locked the door on him. Then she took the letter of the Chief of Police and carried it to the treasurer who, having read and understood it, kissed it and delivered her lover to her. She told him all she had done and he said, “And how shall we act now?” She answered, “We will remove hence to another city, for after this work there is no tarrying for us here.” So the twain packed up what goods they had and, loading them on camels, set out forthright for another city. Meanwhile, the five abode each in his compartment of the cabinet without eating or drinking three whole days, during which time they held their water until at last the carpenter could retain his no longer; so he staled on the King’s head, and the King urined on the Wazir’s head, and the Wazir piddled on the Wali and the Wali pissed on the head of the Kazi; whereupon the Judge cried out and said, “What nastiness1 is this? Doth not what strait we are in suffice us, but you must make water upon us?”’ The Chief of Police recognised the Kazi’s voice and answered, saying aloud, “Allah increase thy reward, O Kazi!” And when the Kazi heard him, he knew him for the Wali. Then the Chief of Police lifted up his voice and said, “What means this nastiness?” and the Wazir answered, saying, “Allah increase thy reward, O Wali!” whereupon he knew him to be the Minister. Then the Wazir lifted up his voice and said, “What means this nastiness?” But when the King heard and recognised his Minister’s voice, he held his peace and concealed his affair. Then said the Wazir, “May God damn2 this woman for her dealing with us! She hath brought hither all the Chief Officers of the state, except the King.” Quoth the King, “Hold your peace, for I was the first to fall into the toils of this lewd strumpet.” Whereat cried the carpenter, “And I, what have I done? I made her a cabinet for four gold pieces, and when I came to seek my hire, she tricked me into entering this compartment and locked the door on me.” And they fell to talking with one another, diverting the King and doing away his chagrin. Presently the neighbours came up to the house and, seeing it deserted, said one to other, “But yesterday our neighbour, the wife of such an one, was in it; but now no sound is to be heard therein nor is soul to be seen. Let us break open the doors and see how the case stands, lest it come to the ears of the Wali or the King and we be cast into prison and regret not doing this thing before.” So they broke open the doors and entered the saloon, where they saw a large wooden cabinet and heard men within groaning for hunger and thirst. Then said one of them, “Is there a Jinni in this cabinet?” and his fellow, “Let us heap fuel about it and burn it with fire.” When the Kazi heard this, he bawled out to them, “Do it not!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Najásah,” meaning anything unclean which requires ablution before prayer. Unfortunately mucus is not of the number, so the common Moslem is very offensive in the matter of nose.
2 Here the word “la’an” is used which most Moslems express by some euphemism. The vulgar Egyptian says “Na’al” (Sapré and Sapristi for Sacré and Sacristie), the Hindostani express it “I send him the three letters”— lám, ayn and nún.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the neighbours proposed to heap fuel about the cabinet and to burn it the Kazi bawled out to them, “Do it not!” And they said to one another, “Verily the Jinn make believe to be mortals and speak with men’s voices.” Thereupon the Kazi repeated somewhat of the Sublime Koran and said to the neighbours, “Draw near to the cabinet wherein we are.” So they drew near, and he said, “I am so and so the Kazi, and ye are such an one and such an one, and we are here a company.” Quoth the neighbours, “Who brought you here?” And he told them the whole case from beginning to end. Then they fetched a carpenter, who opened the five doors and let out Kazi, Wazir, Wali, King and carpenter in their queer disguises; and each, when he saw how the others were accoutred, fell a-laughing at them. Now she had taken away all their clothes; so every one of them sent to his people for fresh clothes and put them on and went out, covering himself therewith from the sight of the folk. “Consider, therefore, O our lord the King” (said the Wazir), “what a trick this woman played off upon the folk! And I have heard tell also a tale of
A certain man had longed all his life to look upon the Night of Power,2 and one night it befel that he gazed at the sky and saw the angels, and Heaven’s gates thrown open; and he beheld all things prostrating themselves before their Lord, each in its several stead. So he said to his wife, “Harkye, such an one, verily Allah hath shown me the Night of Power, and it hath been proclaimed to me, from the invisible world, that three prayers will be granted unto me; so I consult thee for counsel as to what shall I ask.” Quoth she, “O man, the perfection of man and his delight is in his prickle; therefore do thou pray Allah to greaten thy yard and magnify it.” So he lifted up his hands to heaven and said, “O Allah, greaten my yard and magnify it.” Hardly had he spoken when his tool became as big as a column and he could neither sit nor stand nor move about nor even stir from his stead; and when he would have carnally known his wife, she fled before him from place to place. So he said to her, “O accursed woman, what is to be done? This is thy list, by reason of thy lust.” She replied, “No, by Allah, I did not ask for this length and huge bulk, for which the gate of a street were too strait. Pray Heaven to make it less.” So he raised his eyes to Heaven and said, “O Allah, rid me of this thing and deliver me therefrom.” And immediately his prickle disappeared altogether and he became clean smooth. When his wife saw this, she said, “I have no occasion for thee, now thou are become pegless as a eunuch, shaven and shorn;” and he answered her, saying, “All this comes of thine ill-omened counsel and thine imbecile judgment. I had three prayers accepted of Allah, wherewith I might have gotten me my good, both in this world and in the next, and now two wishes are gone in pure waste, by thy lewd will, and there remaineth but one.” Quoth she, “Pray Allah the Most High to restore thee thy yard as it was.” So he prayed to his Lord and his prickle was restored to its first estate. Thus the man lost his three wishes by the ill counsel and lack of wit in the woman; “And this, O King” (said the Wazir), “have I told thee, that thou mightest be certified of the thoughtlessness of women and their inconsequence and silliness and see what cometh of hearkening to their counsel. Wherefore be not persuaded by them to slay thy son, thy heart’s core, who shall cause thy remembrance to survive thee.” The King gave ear to his Minister’s words and forbore to put his son to death; but, on the seventh day, the damsel came in, shrieking, and after lighting a great fire in the King’s presence, made as she would cast herself therein; whereupon they laid hands on her and brought her before him. He asked her, “Why hast thou done this?”; and she answered, “Except thou do me justice on thy son, I will cast myself into this very fire and accuse thee of this on the Day of Resurrection, for I am a-weary of my life, and before coming into thy presence I wrote my last will and testament and gave alms of my goods and resolved upon death. And thou wilt repent with all repentance, even as did the King of having punished the pious woman who kept the Hammam.” Quoth the King, “How was that?” and quoth she, “I have heard tell, O King, this tale concerning
1 The Mac. Edit. is here very concise; better the Bresi. Edit. (xii. 326). Here we have the Eastern form of the Three Wishes which dates from the earliest ages and which amongst us has been degraded to a matter of “black pudding.” It is the grossest and most brutal satire on the sex, suggesting that a woman would prefer an additional inch of penis to anything this world or the next can offer her. In the Book of Sindibad it is the story of the Peri and Religious Man; his learning the Great Name; and his consulting with his wife. See also La Fontaine’s “Trois Souhaits,” Prior’s “Ladle,” and “Les quatre Souhaits de Saint–Martin.”
2 Arab. “Laylat al-Kadr”= Night of Power or of Divine Decrees. It is “better than a thousand months” (Koran xcvii. 3), but unhappily the exact time is not known although all agree that it is one of the last ten in Ramazan. The latter when named by Kiláb ibn Murrah, ancestor of Mohammed, about two centuries before Al-lslam, corresponded with July–August and took its name from “Ramzá” or intense heat. But the Prophet, in the tenth Hijrah year, most unwisely forbade “Nasy”= triennial intercalation (Koran ix. 36) and thus the lunar month went round all the seasons. On the Night of Power the Koran was sent down from the Preserved Tablet by Allah’s throne, to the first or lunar Heaven whence Gabriel brought it for opportunest revelation to the Apostle (Koran xcvii.). Also during this night all Divine Decrees for the ensuing year are taken from the Tablet and are given to the angels for execution whilst, the gates of Heaven being open, prayer (as in the text) is sure of success. This mass of absurdity has engendered a host of superstitions everywhere varying. Lane (Mod. Egypt, chapt. xxv.) describes how some of the Faithful keep tasting a cup of salt water which should become sweet in the Night of Nights. In (Moslem) India not only the sea becomes sweet, but all the vegetable creation bows down before Allah. The exact time is known only to Prophets; but the pious sit through the Night of Ramazan 27th (our 26th) praying and burning incense-pastilles. In Stambul this is officially held to be the Night of Power. So in mediæval Europe on Christmas Eve the cattle worshipped God in their stalls and I have met peasants in France and Italy who firmly believed that brute beasts on that night not only speak but predict the events of the coming year.
There was once a devotee, a recluse, a woman who had devoted herself to religion. Now she used to resort to a certain King’s palace,1 whose dwellers were blessed by her presence and she was held of them in high honour. One day she entered that palace according to her custom and sat down beside the King’s wife. Presently the Queen gave her a necklace, worth a thousand dinars, saying, “Keep this for me, O woman, whilst I go to the Hammam.” So she entered the bath, which was in the palace, and the pious woman remaining in the place where the Queen was and awaiting her return laid the necklace on the prayer-carpet and stood up to pray. As she was thus engaged, there came a magpie2 which snatched up the necklace, while she went out to obey a call of nature and carrying it off, hid it inside a crevice in a corner of the palace-walls. When the Queen came out of the bath, she sought the necklace of the recluse, who also searched for it, but found it not nor could light on any trace of it; so she said to the King’s wife, “By Allah, O my daughter, none hath been with me. When thou gavest me the necklace, I laid it on the prayer-carpet, and I know not if one of the servants saw it and took it without my heed, whilst I was engaged in prayer. Almighty Allah only knoweth what is come of it!” When the King heard what had happened, he bade his Queen put the bath-woman to the question by fire and grievous blows, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Hence the misfortune befel her; the pious especially avoid temporal palaces.
2 This is our tale of “The Maid and the Magpie;” the Mac. Edit. does not specify the “Tayr” (any bird) but the Bresl. Edit. has Ak’ak, a pie. The true Magpie (C. Pica) called Buzarái (?) and Zaghzaghán Abú Mássah (=the Sweeper, from its tail) is found on the Libanus and Anti–Libanus (Unexplored Syria ii. 77–143), but I never saw it in other parts of Syria or in Arabia. It is completely ignored by the Reverend Mr. Tristram in his painfully superficial book “The Natural History of the Bible,” published by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge (or rather Ignorance), London, 1873.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King bade his Queen question the bath-woman with fire and grievous blows, they tortured her with all manner tortures, but could not bring her to confess or to accuse any. Then he commanded to cast her into prison and manacle and fetter her; and they did as he bade. One day, after this, as the King sat in the inner court of his palace, with the Queen by his side and water flowing around him, he saw the pie fly into a crevice in a corner of the wall and pull out the necklace, whereupon he cried out to a damsel who was with him, and she caught the bird and took the necklace from it. By this the King knew that the pious bath-woman had been wronged and repented of that he had done with her. So he sent for her to the presence and fell to kissing her head and with many tears sought pardon of her. Moreover, he commanded much treasure to be given to her, but she refused and would none of it. However, she forgave him and went away, swearing never again to enter any one’s house. So she betook herself to wandering in the mountains and valleys and worshipped God until she died, and Almighty Allah have mercy upon her! “And for an instance of the malice of the male sex” (continued the damsel), “I have heard, O King, tell this tale of
A pair of pigeons once stored up wheat and barley in their nest during the winter, and when the summer came, the grain shrivelled and became less; so the male pigeon said to his wife, “Thou hast eaten of this grain.” Replied she, “No, by Allah, I have never touched it!” But he believed not her words and beat her with his wings and pecked her with his bill, till he killed her. When the cold season returned, the corn swelled out and became as before, whereupon he knew that he had slain his wife wrongously and wickedly, and he repented whenas repentance availed him naught. Then he lay down by her side, mourning over her and weeping for grief, and left meat and drink, till he fell sick and died. “But” (added the damsel), “I know a story of the malice of men more extraordinary than either of these.” Quoth the King, “Let us hear what thou hast to tell;” and quoth she, “I have heard tell, O King, this
1 This is “The Story of the Two Partridges,” told at great length in the Book of Sindibad. See De Sacy’s text in the Kalilah wa Damnah, quoted in the “Book of Kalilah and Damnah” (p. 306).
There was once a King’s daughter, who had no equal in her time for beauty and loveliness and symmetrical stature and grace, brilliancy, amorous lace and the art of ravishing the wits of the masculine race and her name was Al–Datmá. She used to boast, “Indeed there is none like me in this age.” Nor was there one more accomplished than she in horsemanship and martial exercises and all that behoveth a cavalier. So all the Kings’ sons sought her to wife; but she would take none of them, saying, “No man shall marry me except he overcome me at lunge of lance and stroke of sword in fair field and patent plain. If any can do this, I will willingly wed him; but, if I overcome him, I will take his horse and clothes and arms and write with fire upon his forehead, ‘This is the freed man of Al–Datma.’” Now the sons of the Kings flocked to her from every quarter far and near, and she overcame them and put them to shame, stripping them of their arms and branding them with fire. Presently the son of a King of the Kings of the Persians, by name Behram ibn Tájí, heard of her and journeyed from afar to her father’s court, bringing with him men and horses and great store of wealth and royal treasures. When he drew near the city, he sent her parent a rich present and the King came out to meet him and honoured him with the utmost honour. Then the King’s son sent a message to him by his Wazir, demanding his daughter’s hand in marriage; but the King answered, saying, “O my son, as regards my daughter Al–Datma, I have no power over her, for she hath sworn by her soul to marry none except he overcome her in the listed field.” Quoth the Prince, “I journeyed hither from my father’s court with no other object but this; I came here to woo and for thine alliance to sue;” quoth the King, “Thou shalt meet her tomorrow.” So next day he sent to bid his daughter who, making ready for battle, donned her harness of war, and the folk, hearing of the coming joust, flocked from all sides to the field. Presently the Princess rode into the lists, armed cap-à-pie and belted and with vizor down, and the Persian King’s son came out singlehanded to meet her, equipped at all points after the fairest of fashions. Then they drove at each other and fought a great while, wheeling and falsing, advancing and retreating, till the Princess, finding in him such courage and cavalarice as she had seen in none else, began to fear for herself lest he put her to shame before the bystanders and knew that he would assuredly overcome her. So she resolved to trick him and, raising her vizor, lo! her face appeared more brilliant than the full moon, which when he saw, he was confounded by her beauty and his strength failed and his spirit faltered. When she perceived this, she fell upon him unawares in his moment of weakness, and tare him from his saddle, and he became in her hands as he were a sparrow in the clutches of an eagle, knowing not what was done with him for amazement and confusion. So she took his steed and clothes and armour and, branding him with fire, let him wend his ways. When he recovered from his stupor, he abode several days without meat or drink or sleep for despite and love of the girl which had taken hold upon his heart. Then he sent a letter by certain of his slaves to his father, advising him that he could not return home till he had won his will of the Princess or died for want of her. When his sire got the letter, he was sore concerned for his son and would have succoured him by sending troops and soldiers; but his Wazirs dissuaded him from this and exhorted him to patience; so he committed his affair to Almighty Allah. Meanwhile, the Prince cast about for a means of coming to his desire; and presently, disguising himself as a decrepit old man, with a white beard over his own black beard repaired to a garden of the Princess wherein she used to walk most of her days. Here he sought out the gardener and said to him, “I am a stranger from a far country and from my youth upwards I have been a gardener, and in the grafting of trees and the culture of fruits and flowers and care of the vine none is more skilled than I.” When the gardener heard this, he rejoiced in him with exceeding joy and carried him into the garden, where he commended him to his underlings, and the Prince betook himself to the service of the garden and the tending of the trees and the bettering of their fruits and improving the Persian water-wheels and disposing the irrigation-channels. One day, as he was thus employed, lo! he saw some slaves enter the garden, leading mules laden with carpets and vessels, and asked them the meaning of this, to which they answered, “The Princess is minded to take her pleasure.” When he heard these words he hastened to his lodging and, fetching some of the jewels and ornaments he had brought with him from home, sat down in the garden and spread somewhat of them out before him, shaking and making a show of extreme old age — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the son of the Persian King, after disguising himself as an old man shotten in years and taking a seat in the garden, spread out somewhat of the jewels and ornaments before him and made a show of shaking and trembling as if for decrepitude and the weakness of extreme senility. After an hour or so a company of damsels and eunuchs entered with the Princess in their midst, as she were the moon among the stars, and dispersed about the garden, plucking the fruits and diverting themselves. Presently they espied a man sitting under one of the trees; and, making towards him (who was the Prince), found him a very old man, whose hands and feet trembled for decrepitude, and before him store of precious jewels and royal ornaments. So they marvelled at his case and asked him what he did there with the jewels; when he answered, “With these trinkets I would fain buy me to wife one of you.” They laughed together at him and said, “If one of us marry thee, what wilt thou do with her?” Said he, “I will give her one kiss and divorce her.” Then quoth the Princess, “I give thee this damsel to wife.” So he rose and coming up to her, leaning on his staff and shivering and staggering, kissed her and gave her the jewels and ornaments; whereat she rejoiced and they, laughing at him, went their way. Next day, they came again to the garden, and finding him seated in the same place, with more jewels and ornaments than before spread in front of him, asked him, “O Shaykh, what wilt thou do with this jewellery?”; and he answered, saying, “I wish therewith to take one of you to wife even as yesterday.” So the Princess said, “I marry thee to this damsel;” and he came up to her and kissed her and gave her the jewels, and they all went their ways. But, seeing such generosity to her handmaids, the Princess said in herself, “I have more right to all these fine things than these baggages, and no harm can betide me.” So when morning morrowed she went down from her chamber singly into the garden, in the habit of one of her damsels, and presenting herself privily before the Prince, said to him, “O Shaykh, the King’s daughter hath sent me to thee, that thou mayst marry me.” He looked at her and knew her; so he answered, “With love and gladness,” and gave her jewels and ornaments of the finest and costliest. Then he rose to kiss her, and she off her guard and fearing nothing but, when he came up to her, he suddenly laid hold of her with a strong hand and instantly throwing her down, on the ground abated her maidenhead.1 Then he pulled the beard from his face and said to her, “Dost thou not know me?” Asked she, “Who art thou?” and he answered, “I am Behram, the King’s son of Persia, who have changed my favour and am become a stranger to my people and estate for thy sake and have lavished my treasures for thy love.” So she rose from under him in silence and answered not his address nor spake a word of reply to him, being dazed for what had befallen her and seeing nothing better than to be silent, for fear of shame; and she bethought herself and said, “If I kill myself it will be useless and if I do him die, his death will profit me naught;” and presently added, “Nothing will serve me but that I elope with him to his own country.” Then she gathered together her monies and treasures and sent to him, acquainting him therewith, to the intent that he also might equip himself with his wealth and needs; and they agreed upon a night on which to depart. So, at the appointed time, they mounted race-horses and set out under cover of the gloom, nor did morning morrow till they had traversed a great distance; and they ceased not faring forwards till they drew near his father’s capital in the land of the Persians. When the King heard of his son’s coming, he rode out to meet him with his troops and rejoiced in him with exceeding joy. Then, after a few days, he sent the Princess’s father a splendid present, and a letter to the effect that his daughter was with him and demanding her wedding equipage. Al–Datma’s father came out to meet the messengers with the greatest gladness (for that he had deemed his daughter lost and had grieved sore for her loss): after which he made bride-feasts and, summoning the Kazi and the witnesses, let draw up the marriage-contract between his daughter and the Prince of Persia. He invested the envoys with robes of honour, then he made ready her equipage and despatched it to her; and Prince Behram abode with her till death sundered their union. “See therefore, O King” (continued the favourite), “the malice of men in their dealing with women. As for me, I will not go back from my due till I die.” So the King once more commanded to put his son to death; but the seventh Wazir came in to him and kissing the ground before him, said, “O King, have patience with me whilst I speak these words of good counsel to thee; how many patient and slow-moving men unto their hope attain, and how many who are precipitate fall into shameful state! Now I have seen how this damsel hath profligately excited the King by lies to horrible and unnatural cruelties; but I his Mameluke, whom he hath overwhelmed with his favours and bounties, do proffer him true and loyal rede; for that I, O King, know of the malice of women that which none knoweth save myself; and in particular there hath reached me, on this subject, the story of the old woman and the son of the merchant with its warning instances.” Asked the King, “And what fell out between them, O Wazir?” and the seventh Wazir answered, “I have heard tell, O King, the tale of
1 This extremely wilful young person had rendered rape excusable. The same treatment is much called for by certain heroines of modern fiction — let me mention Princess Napraxine.
A wealthy merchant had a son who was very dear to him and who said to him one day, “O my father, I have a boon to beg of thee.” Quoth the merchant, “O my son, what is it, that I may give it thee and bring thee to thy desire, though it were the light of mine eyes.” Quoth the youth, “Give me money, that I may journey with the merchants to the city of Baghdad and see its sights and sail on the Tigris and look upon the palace of the Caliphs2; for the sons of the merchants have described these things to me and I long to see them for myself.” Said the father, “O my child, O my little son, how can I endure to part from thee?” But the youth replied, ‘ I have said my say and there is no help for it but I journey to Baghdad with thy consent or e’en without it: such a longing for its sight hath fallen upon me as can only be assuaged by the going hither.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchant’s son said to his sire, “There is no help for it but that I journey to Baghdad.” Now when the father saw that there was no help for it, he provided his son with goods to the value of thirty thousand gold pieces and sent him with certain merchants in whom he trusted, committing him to their charge. Then he took leave of the youth, who journeyed with his friends the merchants till they reached Baghdad, the House of Peace, where he entered the market and hired him a house, so handsome and delectable and spacious and elegant that on seeing it he well nigh lost his wits for admiration; for therein were pavilions facing one another, with floors of coloured marbles and ceilings inlaid with gold and lapis lazuli, and its gardens were full of warbling birds. So he asked the door keeper1 what was its monthly rent, and he replied, “Ten dinars.” Quoth the young man, “Speakest thou soothly or dost thou but jest with me?” Quoth the porter, “By Allah, I speak naught but the truth, for none who taketh up his abode in This house lodgeth in it more than a week2 or two.” “And how is that?” quoth the youth; and quoth the porter, “O my son, whoso dwelleth in this house cometh not forth of it, except sick or dead, wherefore it is known amongst all the folk of Baghdad so that none offereth to inhabit it, and thus cometh it that its rent is fallen so low.” Hearing this the young merchant marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, “Needs must there be some reason for this sickening and perishing.” However after considering awhile and seeking refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned, he rented the house and took up his abode there. Then he put away apprehension from his thought and busied himself with selling and buying; and some days passed by without any such ill case befalling him in the house, as the doorkeeper had mentioned. One day as he sat upon the bench before his door, there came up a grizzled crone, as she were a snake speckled white and black, calling aloud on the name of Allah, magnifying Him inordinately and, at the same time, putting away the stones and other obstacles from the path.3 Seeing the youth sitting there, she looked at him and marvelled at his case; where upon quoth he to her, “O woman, dost thou know me or am I like any thou knowest?” When she heard him speak, she toddled up to him and saluting him with the salaam, asked, “How long hast thou dwelt in this house?” Answered he, “Two months, O my mother;” and she said, “It was hereat I marvelled; for I, O my son, know thee not, neither dost thou know me, nor yet art thou like unto any one I know; but I marvelled for that none other than thou hath taken up his abode in this house but hath gone forth from it, dead or dying, saving thee alone. Doubtless, O my son, thou hast periled thy young years; but I suppose thou hast not gone up to the upper story neither looked out from the belvedere there.” So saying, she went her way and he fell a pondering her words and said to himself, “I have not gone up to the top of the house; nor did I know that there was a belvedere there.” Then he arose forthright and going in, searched the by ways of the house till he espied, in a wall corner among the trees, a narrow door between whose posts4 the spider had woven her webs, and said in himself, “Haply the spider hath not webbed over the door, but because death and doom is within.” However, he heartened himself with the saying of God the Most High, “Say, nothing shall befall us but what Allah hath written for us;”5 and opening the door, ascended a narrow flight of stairs, till he came to the terrace roof, where he found a belvedere, in which he sat down to rest and solace himself with the view. Presently, he caught sight of a fine house and a well cared for hard by, surmounted by a lofty belvedere, over looking the whole of Baghdad, in which sat a damsel fair as a Houri. Her beauty took possession of his whole heart and made away with his reason, bequeathing to him the pains and patience of Job and the grief and weeping of Jacob. And as he looked at her and considered her curiously, an object to enamour an ascetic and make a devotee lovesick, fire was lighted in his vitals and he cried, “Folk say that whoso taketh up his abode in this house dieth or sickeneth. An this be so, yon damsel is assuredly the cause. Would Heaven I knew how I shall win free of this affair, for my wits are clean gone!” Then he descended from the terrace, pondering his case, and sat down in the house, but being unable to rest, he went out and took his seat at the door, absorbed in melancholy thought when, behold, up came the old woman afoot, praising and magnifying Allah as she went. When he saw her, he rose and accosting her with a courteous salaam and wishes for her life being prolonged said to her, “O my mother, I was healthy and hearty till thou madest mention to me of the door leading to the belvedere; so I opened it and ascending to the top Of the house, saw thence what stole away my senses; and now methinks I am a lost man, and I know no physician for me but thyself.” When she heard this, she laughed and said, “No harm shall befall thee Inshallah so Allah please!” Whereupon he rose and went into the house and coming back with an hundred dinars in his sleeve, said to her, “Take this, O my mother, and deal with me the dealing of lords with slaves and succour me quickly for, if I die, a claim for my blood will meet thee on the Day of Doom.” Answered she, “With love and gladness; but, O my son, I expect thou lend me thine aid in some small matter, whereby hangs the winning of thy wish.” Quoth he, “What wouldst thou have me do, O my mother?” Quoth she, “Go to the silk market and enquire for the shop of Abú al-Fath bin Kaydám. Sit thee down on his counter and salute him and say to him, ‘Give me the face veil6 thou hast by thee orfrayed with gold:’ for he hath none handsomer in his shop. Then buy it of him, O my son, at his own price however high and keep it till I come to thee to morrow, Allah Almighty willing.” So saying, she went away and he passed the night upon live coals of the Ghazá7-wood. Next morning he took a thousand ducats in his pocket and repairing to the silk market, sought out the shop of Abu al-Fath to whom he was directed by one of the merchants. He found him a man of dignified aspect, surrounded by pages, eunuchs and attendants; for he was a merchant of great wealth and consideration befriended by the Caliph; and of the blessings which Allah the Most High had bestowed upon him was the damsel who had ravished the young man’s heart. She was his wife and had not her match for beauty, nor was her like to be found with any of the sons of the Kings. The young man saluted him and Abu al-Fath returned his salaam and bade him be seated. So he sat down by him and said to him, “O merchant, I wish to look at such a face veil.” Accordingly he bade his slave bring him a bundle of silk from the inner shop And opening it, brought out a number of veils, whose beauty amazed the youth. Among them was the veil he sought; so he bought it for fifty gold pieces and bore it home well pleased. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Bawwáb,” a personage as important as the old French concierge and a man of trust who has charge of the keys and with letting vacant rooms. In Egypt the Berber from the Upper Nile is the favourite suisse; being held more honest or rather less rascally than the usual Egyptian. These Berbers, however, are true barbarians, overfond of Búzah (the beer of Osiris) and not unfrequently dangerous. They are supposed by Moslems to descend from the old Syrians expelled by Joshua. For the favourite chaff against them, eating the dog (not the puppy-pie), see Pilgrimage i. 93. They are the “paddies’, of Egypt to whom all kinds of bulls and blunders are attributed.
2 Arab. “Juma’ah,” which means either Friday or a week. In pre-Moslem times it was called Al–Arúbah (the other week-days being Shiyár or Saturday, Bawal, Bahan Jabar, Dabar and Fámunís or Thursday). Juma’ah, literally = “Meeting” or Congregation (-day), was made to represent the Jewish Sabbath and the Christian Sunday because on that day Allah ended the work of creation; it was also the date of Mohammed’s entering Al–Medinah. According to Al–Bayzáwí, it was called Assembly day because Ka’ab ibn Lowa, one of the Prophet’s ancestors, used to gather the people before him on Fridays. Moslems are not forbidden to do secular work after the congregational prayers at the hour when they must “hasten to the commemoration of Allah and leave merchandising.” (Koran, chaps. Ixii. 9.)
3 This is done only by the very pious: if they see a bit of bread they kiss it, place it upon their heads and deposit it upon a wall or some place where it will not be trodden on. She also removed the stones lest haply they prove stumbling-blocks to some Moslem foot.
4 Arab. “Ashjár,” which may mean either the door-posts or the wooden bolts. Lane (iii. 174) translates it “among the trees” in a room!
5 Koran (ix. 51), when Mohammed reproaches the unbelievers for not accompanying him to victory or martyrdom.
6 Arab. “Kiná,” a true veil, not the “Burká “ or “nose bag” with the peep-holes. It is opposed to the “Tarkah” or “head veil.” Europeans inveigh against the veil which represents the loup of Louis Quatorze’s day: it is on the contrary the most coquettish of contrivances, hiding coarse skins, fleshy noses, wide mouths and vanishing chins, and showing only lustrous and liquid black eyes. Moreover a pretty woman, when she wishes, will always let you see something under the veil. (Pilgrimage i. 337.)
7 A yellow-flowered artemisia or absinthe whose wood burns like holm-oak. (Unexplored Syria ii. 43.) See vol. ii. 24 for further details.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth after buying the veil of the merchant bore it home; but hardly had he reached the house when lo! up came the old woman. He rose to her and gave her his purchase when she bade him bring a live coal, with which she burnt one of the corners of the veil, then folded it up as before and, repairing to Abu al-Fath’s house, knocked at the door. Asked the damsel, “Who is there?”; and she answered, “I, such an one.” Now the damsel knew her for a friend of her mother so, when she heard her voice, she came out and opening the door to her, said, “What brought thee here, O my mother? My mamma hath left me and gone to her own house.” Replied the old woman, “O my daughter, I know thy mother is not with thee, for I have been with her in her home, and I come not to thee, but because I fear to pass the hour of prayer; wherefore I desire to make my Wuzu-ablution with thee, for I know thou art clean and thy house pure.”1 The damsel admitted the old trot who saluted her and called down blessings upon her. Then she took the ewer and went into the wash house, where she made her ablutions and prayed in a place there. Presently, she came out again and said to the damsel, “O my daughter, I suspect thy handmaidens have been in yonder place and defiled it; so do thou show me another place where I may pray, for the prayer I have prayed I account null and void.” Thereupon the damsel took her by the hand and said to her, “O my mother, come and pray on my carpet, where my husband sits.” So she stood there and prayed and worshipped, bowed and prostrated; and presently, she took the damsel unawares and made shift to slip the veil under the cushion, unseen of her. Then she blessed her and went her ways. Now as the day was closing Abu al-Fath came home and sat down upon the carpet, whilst his wife brought him food and he ate of it his sufficiency and washed his hands; after which he leant back upon the cushion. Presently, he caught sight of a corner of the veil protruding from under the cushion; so he pulled it out and considered it straitly, when, knowing it for that he had sold to the young man, he at once suspected his wife of unchastity. Thereupon he called her and said, “Whence hadst thou this veil?” And she swore an oath to him, saying, “None hath come to me but thou.” The merchant was silent for fear of scandal, and said to himself, “If I open up this chapter, I shall be put to shame before all Baghdad;” for he was one of the intimates of the Caliph and so he could do nothing save hold his peace. So he asked no questions, but said to his wife, whose name was Mahzíyah, “It hath reached me that thy mother lieth ill of heart ache2 and all the women are with her, weeping over her; wherefore I order thee to go to her.” Accordingly, she repaired to her mother’s house and found her in the best of health; and she asked her daughter, “What brings thee here at this hour?” So she told her what her husband had said and sat with her awhile; when behold, up came porters, who brought her clothes from her husband’s house, and transporting all her paraphernalia and what not else belonged to her of goods and vessels, deposited them in her mother’s lodging. When the mother saw this, she said to her daughter, “Tell me what hath passed between thee and thy husband, to bring about this.” But she swore to her that she knew not the cause thereof and that there had befallen nothing between them to call for this conduct. Quoth her mother, “Needs must there be a cause for this.” And she answered, saying, “I know of none, and after this, with Almighty Allah be it to make provision!” Whereupon her mother fell a weeping and lamented her daughter’s separation from the like of this man, by reason of his sufficiency and fortune and the greatness of his rank and dignity. On this wise things abode some days, after which the curst, ill omened old woman, whose name was Miryam the Koranist,3 paid a visit to Mahziyah, in her mother’s house and saluted her cordially, saying, “What ails thee, O my daughter, O my darling? Indeed, thou hast troubled my mind.” Then she went in to her mother and said to her, “O my sister, what is this business about thy daughter and her husband? It hath reached me that he hath divorced her! What hath she done to call for this?” Quoth the mother, “Belike her husband will return to her by the blessed influence of thy prayers, O Háfizah; so do thou pray for her, O my sister, for thou art a day faster and a night prayer.” Then the three fell to talking together and the old woman said to the damsel, “O my daughter, grieve not for, if Allah please, I will make peace between thee and thy husband before many days.” Then she left them and going to the young merchant, said to him, “Get ready a handsome entertainment for us, for I will bring her to thee this very night.” So he sprang up and went forth and provided all that was fitting of meat and drink and so forth, then sat down to await the twain; whilst the old woman returned to the girl’s mother and said to her, “O my sister, we have a splendid bride feast to night; so let thy daughter go with me, that she may divert herself and make merry with us and throw off her cark and care, and forget the ruin of her home. I will bring her back to thee even as I took her away.” The mother dressed her daughter in her finest dress and costliest jewels and accompanied her to the door, where she commended her to the old woman’s charge, saying, “ ‘Ware lest thou let any of Almighty Allah’s creatures look upon her, for thou knowest her husband’s rank with the Caliph; and do not tarry, but bring her back to me as soon as possible.” The old woman carried the girl to the young man’s house which she entered, thinking it the place where the wedding was to be held: but as soon as she came into the sitting saloon — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Farz or obligatory prayers, I have noted, must be recited (if necessary) in the most impure place; not so the other orisons. Hence the use of the “Sajjádah” or prayer-rug an article too well known to require description.
2 Anglicè a stomach-ache, a colic.
3 Arab. “Al-Háfizah” which has two meanings. Properly it signifies the third order of Traditionists out of a total of five or those who know 300,000 traditions and their ascriptions. Popularly “one who can recite the Koran by rote.” There are six great Traditionists whose words are held to be prime authorities; (1) Al–Bokhári, (2) Muslim, and these are entitled Al–Sahíhayn, The (two true) authorities. After them (3) Al–Tirmidi; and (4) Abu Daúd: these four being the authors of the “Four Sunan,” the others are (5) Al — Nasái and (6) Ibn Májah (see Jarrett’s Al–Siyuti pp. 2, 6; and, for modern Arab studies, Pilgrimage i. 154 et seq.).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that as soon as the damsel entered the sitting saloon, the youth sprang up to her and flung his arms round her neck and kissed her hands and feet. She was confounded at his loveliness, as well as at the beauty of the place and the profusion of meat and drink, flowers and perfumes that she saw therein, and deemed all was a dream. When the old woman saw her amazement, she said to her, “The name of Allah be upon thee, O my daughter! Fear not; I am here sitting with thee and will not leave thee for a moment. Thou art worthy of him and he is worthy of thee.” So the damsel sat down shame-fast and in great confusion; but the young man jested and toyed with her and entertained her with laughable stories and loving verses, till her breast broadened and she became at her ease. Then she ate and drank and growing warm with wine, took the lute and sang these couplets,
“My friend who went hath returned once more;
Oh, the welcome light that such beauty shows!
And but for the fear of those arrowy eyes,
From his lovely cheek I had culled the rose.”
And when the youth saw that she to his beauty did incline he waxt drunken without wine and his life was a light matter to him compared with his love.1 Presently the old woman went out and left them alone together to enjoy their loves till the next morning, when she went into them and gave them both good morrow2 and asked the damsel, “How hast thou passed the night, O my lady?” Answered the girl, “Right well, thanks to thy adroitness and the excellence of thy going between.”3 Then said the old woman, ‘‘Up, let us go back to thy mother.” At these words the young man pulled out an hundred sequins and gave them to her, saying, “Take this and leave her with me to night.” So she left them and repaired to the girl’s mother, to whom quoth she, “Thy daughter saluteth thee, and the bride’s mother hath sworn her to abide with her this night.” Replied the mother, “O my sister, bear her my salaam, and, if it please and amuse the girl, there is no harm in her staying the night; so let her do this and divert herself and come back to me at her leisure, for all I fear for her is chagrin on account of an angry husband.” The old woman ceased not to make excuse after excuse to the girl’s mother and to put off cheat upon cheat upon her, till Mahziyah had tarried seven days with the young man, of whom she took an hundred dinars each day for herself; while he enjoyed all the solace of life and coition. But at the end of this time, the girl’s mother said to her, “Bring my daughter back to me forthright; for I am uneasy about her, because she hath been so long absent, and I misdoubt me of this.” So the old woman went out saying, “Woe to thee! shall such words be spoken to the like of me?”; and, going to the young man’s house, took the girl by the hand and carried her away (leaving him lying asleep on his bed, for he was drunken with wine) to her mother. She received her with pleasure and gladness and seeing her in redoubled beauty and brilliancy rejoiced in her with exceeding joy, saying, “O my daughter, my heart was troubled about thee and in my uneasiness I offended against this my sister the Koranist with a speech that wounded her.” Replied Mahziyah, “Rise and kiss her hands and feet, for she hath been to me as a servant in my hour of need, and if thou do it not thou art no mamma of mine, nor am I thy girl.” So the mother went up at once to the old woman and made her peace with her. Meanwhile, the young man recovered from his drunkenness and missed the damsel, but congratulated himself on having enjoyed his desire. Presently Miryam the old Koranist came in to him and saluted him, saying, “What thinkest thou of my feat?” Quoth he, “Excellently well conceived and contrived of thee was that same.” Then quoth she, “Come, let us mend what we have marred and restore this girl to her husband, for we have been the cause of their separation and it is unrighteous.” Asked he, “How shall I do?” and she answered, “Go to Abu al-Fath’s shop and salute him and sit down by him, till thou seest me pass by, when do thou rise in haste and catch hold of my dress and abuse me and threaten me, demanding of me the veil. And do thou say to the merchant, ‘Thou knowest, O my lord, the face veil I bought of thee for fifty dinars? It so chanced that my handmaid put it on and burnt a corner of it by accident; so she gave it to this old woman, who took it, promising to get it fine-drawn4 and return it, and went away, nor have I seen her from that day to this.’” “With joy and good will,” replied the young man, and rising forthright, walked to the shop of the silk merchant, with whom he sat awhile till behold, the old woman passed telling her beads on a rosary she held in hand; whereupon he sprang up and laying hold of her dress began to abuse and rail at her, whilst she answered him with fair words, saying, “Indeed, my son, thou art excusable.” So the people of the bazaar flocked round the two, saying, “What is the matter?” and he replied, “O folk, I bought of this merchant a veil for fifty dinars and gave it to my slave girl, who wore it awhile, then sat down to fumigate it with perfume. Presently a spark flew out of the censer and, lighting on the edge of the veil, burnt a hole in it. So we committed it to this pestilent old woman, that she might give it to who should fine-draw it and return it to us; but from that time we have never set eyes on her again till this day.” Answered the old woman, “This young man speaks sooth. I had the veil from him, but I took it with me into one of the houses where I am wont to visit and forgot it there, nor do I know where I left it; and, being a poor woman, I feared its owner and dared not face him.” Now the girl’s husband was listening to all they said — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane (iii. 176) marries the amorous couple, thus making the story highly proper and robbing it of all its point.
2 Arab. “Sabbahat,” i.e. Sabbah-ak’ Allah bi’l khayr = Allah give thee good morning: still the popular phrase.
3 Arab. “Ta’rísak,” with the implied hint of her being a “Mu’arrisah” or she pander. The Bresl. Edit. (xii. 356) bluntly says “Kivádatak” thy pimping.
4 Arab. “Rafw”: the “Rafu-gar” or fine-drawer in India, who does this artistic style of darning, is famed for skill.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the young man seized the old woman and spoke to her of the veil as she had primed him, the girl’s husband was listening to all they said, from beginning to end, and when he heard the tale which the crafty old woman had contrived with the young man, he rose to his feet and said, “Allah Almighty! I crave pardon of the Omnipotent One for my sins and for what my heart suspected!” And he praised the Lord who had discovered to him the truth. Then he accosted the old woman and said to her, “Dost thou use to visit us?”1 Replied she, “O my son, I visit you and other than you, for the sake of alms; but from that day to this, none hath given me news of the veil.” Asked the merchant, “Hast thou enquired at my house?” and she answered, “O my lord, I did indeed go to thy house and ask; but they told me that the person of the house2 had been divorced by the merchant; so I went away and asked no farther; nor have I enquired of anybody else until this day.” Hereupon the merchant turned to the young man and said, “Let the old woman go her way; for the veil is with me.” So saying he brought it out from the shop and gave it to the fine-drawer before all present. Then he betook himself to his wife and, giving her somewhat of money, took her to himself again, after making abundance of excuses to her and asking pardon of Allah, because he knew not what the old woman had done. (Said the Wazir), “This then, O King, is an instance of the malice of women and for another to the same purport, I have heard tell the following tale anent
A certain King’s son was once walking alone for his pleasure, when he came to a green meadow, abounding in trees laden with fruit and birds singing on the boughs, and a river running athwart it. The place pleased him; so he sat down there and taking out some dried fruits he had brought with him, began to eat, when lo! he espied a great smoke rising up to heaven and, taking fright, he climbed up into a tree and hid himself among the branches. Thence he saw an Ifrit rise out of the midst of the stream bearing on his head a chest of marble, secured by a padlock. He set down the chest on the meadow-sward and opened it and there came forth a damsel of mortal race like the sun shining in the sheeny sky. After seating her he solaced himself by gazing on her awhile, then laid his head in her lap and fell asleep, whereupon she lifted up his head and laying it on the chest, rose and walked about. Presently, she chanced to raise her eyes to the tree wherein was the Prince, and seeing him, signed to him to come down. He refused, but she swore to him, saying, “Except thou come down and do as I bid thee, I will wake the Ifrit and point thee out to him, when he will straightway kill thee.” The King’s son fearing she would do as she said, came down, whereupon she kissed his hands and feet and besought him to do her need. To this he consented and, when he had satisfied her wants, she said to him, “Give me this seal ring I see on thy finger.” So he gave her his signet and she set it in a silken kerchief she had with her, wherein were more than four score others. When the Prince saw this, he asked her, “What dost thou with all these rings?”; and she answered, “In very sooth this Ifrit carried me off from my father’s palace and shut me in this box, which he beareth about on his head wherever he goeth, with the keys about him; and he hardly leaveth me one moment alone of the excess of his jealousy over me, and hindereth me from what I desire. When I saw this, I swore that I would deny my last favours to no man whatsoever, and these rings thou seest are after the tale of the men who have had me; for after coition I took from each a seal ring and laid it in this kerchief.” Then she added, “And now go thy ways, that I may look for another than thyself, for the Ifrit will not awake yet awhile.” Hardly crediting what he had heard, the Prince returned to his father’s palace, but the King knew naught of the damsel’s malice (for she feared not this and took no count thereof), and seeing that his son had lost his ring, he bade put him to death.2 Then he rose from his place and entered his palace; but his Wazirs came in to him and prevailed with him to abandon his purpose. The same night, the King sent for all of them and thanked them for having dissuaded him from slaying his son; and the Prince also thanked them, saying, “It was well done of you to counsel my father to let me live and Inshallah! I will soon requite you abundantly.” Then he related to them how he had lost the ring, and they offered up prayers for his long life and advancement and withdrew. “See then, O King,” (said the Wazir), “the malice of women and what they do unto men.” The King hearkened to the Minister’s counsel and again countermanded his order to slay his son. Next morning, it being the eighth day, as the King sat in his audience chamber in the midst of his Grandees and Emirs and Wazirs and Olema, the Prince entered, with his hand in that of his governor, Al Sindibad, and praised his father and his Ministers and lords and divines in the most eloquent words and thanked them for having saved his life; so that all who were present wondered at his eloquence and fluency of speech. His father rejoiced in him with exceeding, all surpassing joy, and calling him to him, kissed him between the eyes. Then he called his preceptor, al-Sindibad, and asked him why his son had kept silence these seven days, to which he replied, “O our lord, the truth is, it was I who enjoined him to this, in my fear for him of death: I knew this from the day of his birth; and, when I took his nativity, I found it written in the stars that, if he should speak during this period, he would surely die; but now the danger is over, by the King’s fortune.” At this the King was glad and said to his Wazirs, “If I had killed my son, would the fault have fallen on me or the damsel or on the preceptor, al-Sindibad?” But all present refrained from replying, and al-Sindibad said to the Prince, “Answer thou, O my son.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Al–Sindibad said, “Answer thou, O my son,” the Prince replied, “I have heard tell that a merchant at whose house certain guests once alighted sent his slave girl to the market to buy a jar of clotted milk.1 So she bought it and set out on her return home; but on the way there passed over her a kite, holding and squeezing a serpent in its claws, and a drop of the serpent’s venom fell into the milk jar, unknown of the girl. So, when she came back, the merchant took the milk from her and drank of it, he and his guests; but hardly had it settled in their stomachs when they all died.2 Now consider, O King, whose was the fault in this matter?” Thereupon some present said, “It was the fault of the company who drank the milk without examining it.” And other some, “That of the girl, who left the jar without cover.” But al-Sindibad asked the Prince, “What sayest thou, O my son?” Answered he, “I say that the folk err; it was neither the fault of the damsel nor of the company, for their appointed hour was come, their divinely decreed provision was exhausted and Allah had fore ordained them to die thus.”3 When the courtiers heard this, they marvelled greatly and lifted up their voices, blessing the King’s son, and saying, “O our lord, thou hast made a reply sans peur, and thou art the sagest man of thine age sans reproche.” “Indeed, I am no sage,” answered the Prince; “the blind Shaykh and the son of three years and the son of five years were wiser than I.” Said the bystanders, “O youth, tell us the stories of these three who were wiser than thou art, O youth.” Answered he, “With all my heart. I have heard tell this tale concerning the
1 Arab. and Heb. “Laban” (opp. to “laban-halíb,” or simply “halíb” = fresh milk), milk artificially soured, the Dahin of India, the Kisainá of the Slavs and our Corstophine cream. But in The Nights, contrary to modern popular usage, “Laban” is also applied to Fresh milk. The soured form is universally in the East eaten with rice and enters into the Salátah or cucumber-salad. I have noted elsewhere that all the Galactophagi, the nomades who live on milk, use it in the soured never in the fresh form. The Badawi have curious prejudices about it: it is a disgrace to sell it (though not to exchange it), and “Labbán,” or “milk-vendor,” is an insult. The Bráhni and Beloch pomades have the same pundonor possibly learnt from the Arabs (Pilgrimage i. 363). For ‘Igt (Akit), Mahir, Saribah, Jamídah and other lacteal preparations, see ibid. i. 362.
2 I need hardly say that the poison would have been utterly harmless, unless there had been an abrasion of the skin. The slave — girl is blamed for carrying the jar uncovered because thus it would attract the evil eye. In the Book of Sindibad the tale appears as the Story of the Poisoned Guest; and the bird is a stork.
3 The Prince expresses the pure and still popular Moslem feeling; and yet the learned and experienced Mr Redhouse would confuse this absolute Predestination with Providence. A friend tells me that the idea of absolute Fate in The Nights makes her feel as if the world were a jail.
There once lived an exceeding rich merchant, who was a great traveller and who visited all manner of places. One day, being minded to journey to a certain city, he asked those who came thence, saying, “What kind of goods brought most profit there?” and they answered, “Chanders-wood; for it selleth at a high price.” So he laid out all his money in sandal and set out for that city; and arriving there at close of day, behold, he met and old woman driving her sheep. Quoth she to him, “Who art thou, O man? and quoth he, “I am a stranger, a merchant.” “Beware of the townsfolk,” said she, “for they are cheats, rascals, robbers who love nothing more than imposing on the foreigner that they may get the better of him and devour his substance. Indeed I give thee good counsel.” Then she left him and on the morrow there met him one of the citizens who saluted him and asked him, “O my lord, whence comest thou?” Answered the merchant, “From such a place.” “And what merchandise hast thou brought with thee?” enquired the other; and replied he, “Chanders-wood, for it is high of price with you.” Quoth the townsman, “He blundered who told thee that; for we burn nothing under our cooking-pots save sandal-wood, whose worth with us is but that of fuel.” When the merchant heard this he sighed and repented and stood balanced between belief and unbelief. Then he alighted at one of the khans of the city, and, when it was night, he saw a merchant make fire of chanders-wood under his cooking pot. Now this was the man who had spoken with him and this proceeding was a trick of his. When the townsman saw the merchant looking at him, he asked, “Wilt thou sell me thy sandal-wood for a measure2 of whatever thy soul shall desire?” “I sell it to thee,” answered the merchant; and the buyer transported all the wood to his own house and stored it up there; whilst the seller purposed to take an equal quantity of gold for it. Next morning the merchant, who was a blue-eyed man, went out to walk in the city but, as he went along, one of the townsfolk, who was blue-eyed and one-eyed to boot, caught hold of him, saying, “Thou are he who stole my eye and I will never let thee go.”3 The merchant denied this, saying, “I never stole it: the thing is impossible.” Whereupon the folk collected round them and besought the one-eyed man to grant him till the morrow, that he might give him the price of his eye. So the merchant procured one to be surety for him, and they let him go. Now his sandal had been rent in the struggle with the one-eyed man; so he stopped at a cobbler’s stall and gave it to him, saying, “Mend it and thou shalt have of me what shall content thee.” Then he went on, till he came to some people sitting at play of forfeits and sat down with them, to divert his cark and care. They invited him to play with them and he did so; but they practised on him and overcoming him, offered him his choice,4 either to drink up the sea or disburse all the money he had. “Have patience with me till to-morrow,” said he, and they granted him the delay he sought; whereupon he went away, sore concerned for what had betided him and knowing not how he should do, and sat down in a solitary place heart-heavy, care-full, thought-opprest. And behold, the old woman passed by and seeing him thus, said to him, “Peradventure the townsfolk have gotten the better of thee, for I see the troubled at that which hath befallen thee: recount to me what aileth thee.” So he told her all that had passed from first to last, and she said, “As for him who diddled thee in the matter of the chanders-wood, thou must know that with us it is worth ten gold pieces a pound. But I will give thee a rede, whereby I trust thou shalt deliver thyself; and it is this. Go to such and such a gate whereby lives a blind Shaykh, a cripple, who is knowing, wise as a wizard and experienced; and all resort to him and ask him what they require, when he counsels them what will be their advantage; for he is versed in craft5 and magic and trickery. Now he is a sharper and the sharpers resort to him by night; therefore, I repeat, go thou to his lodging and hide thyself from thine adversaries, so thou mayst hear what they say, unseen of them; for he telleth them which party got the better and which got the worse; and haply thou shalt learn from them some plan which may avail to deliver thee from them.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In the Book of Sindibad this is the Story of the Sandal-wood Merchant and the Advice of the Blind Old Man. Mr. Clouston (p. 163) quotes a Talmudic joke which is akin to the Shaykh’s advice and a reply of Tyl Eulenspiegel, the arch-rogue, which has also a family resemblance.
2 Arab. “Sá‘a,” a measure of corn, etc., to be given in alms. The Kamus makes it = four mudds (each being 1/3 lbs.); the people understand by it four times the measure of a man’s two open hands.
3 i.e. till thou restore my eye to me. This style of prothesis without apodosis is very common in Arabic and should be preserved in translation, as it adds a naïveté to the style. We find it in Genesis iii. 2, “And now lest he put forth his hand,” etc.
4 They were playing at Muráhanah, like children amongst us. It is also called “Hukm wa Rizá” = order and consent. The penalty is usually something ridiculous, but here it was villainous.
5 Every Moslem capital has a “Shaykh of the thieves” who holds a regular levées and who will return stolen articles for consideration; and this has lasted since the days of Diodorus Siculus (Pilgrimage i. 91).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman said to the merchant, “Go this night to that expert who is frequented by the townsfolk and hide thine identity: haply shalt thou hear from him some plea which shall deliver thee from thine adversaries.” So he went to the place she mentioned and hid himself albeit he took seat near the blind man. Before long, up came the Shaykh’s company who were wont to choose him for their judge: they saluted the oldster and one another and sat down round him, whereupon the merchant recognised his four adversaries. The Chief set somewhat of food before them and they ate; then each began to tell what had befallen him during his day, and amongst the rest came forward he of the chanders-wood and told the Shaykh how he had bought of one man sandal below its price, and had agreed to pay for it a Sá‘a or measure of whatever the seller should desire.1 Quoth the old man, “Thine opponent hath the better of thee.” Asked the other, “How can that be?”; and the Shaykh answered, “What if he say, I will take the measure full of gold or silver, wilt thou give it to him?” “Yes,” replied the other, “I will give it to him and still be the gainer.” And the Shaykh answered, “And if he say, I will take the measure full of fleas,2 half male and half female, what wilt thou do?” So the sharper knew that he was worsted. Then came forward the one-eyed man and said, “O Shaykh, I met to-day a blue-eyed man, a stranger to the town; so I picked a quarrel with him and caught hold of him, saying, ‘’Twas thou robbedst me of my eye’; nor did I let him go, till some became surety for him that he should return to me to-morrow and satisfy me for my eye.” Quoth the oldster, “If he will he may have the better of thee and thou the worse.” “How so?” asked the sharper; and the Chief said, “he may say to thee, ‘Pluck out thine eye, and I will pluck out one of mine; then we will weigh them both, and if thine eye be of the same weight as mine, thou sayest sooth in what thou avouchest.’ So wilt thou owe him the legal price of his eye and be stone blind, whilst he will still see with his other eye.” So the sharper knew that the merchant might baffle him with such plea. Then came the cobbler; and said, “O Shaykh, a man brought me his sandal-shoe to-day, saying, ‘Mend this;’ and I asked him, ‘What wage wilt thou give me?’; when he answered, ‘Thou shalt have of me what will content thee.’ Now nothing will content me but all the wealth he hath.” Quoth the oldster, “And he will, he may take his sandal from thee and give thee nothing.” “How so?” quoth the cobbler, and quoth the Shaykh, “He has but to say to thee, ‘The Sultan’s enemies are put to the rout; his foes are waxed weak and his children and helpers are multiplied. Art thou content or no?’ If thou say, ‘I am content,’3 he will take his sandal and go away; and if thou say, ‘I am not content,’ he will take his sandal and beat thee therewith over the face and neck.” So the cobbler owned himself worsted. Then came forward the gamester and said, “O Shaykh, I played at forfeits with a man to-day and beat him and quoth I to hime, ‘If thou drink the sea I will give thee all my wealth; and if not I will take all that is thine.’” Replied the Chief, “An he will he may worst thee.” “How so?” asked the sharper, and the Shaykh answered, “He hath but to say, ‘Hold for me the mouth of the sea in thine hand and give it me and I will drink it.’ But thou wilt not be able to do this; so he will baffle thee with this plea.” When the merchant heard this, he knew how it behoved him to deal with his adversaries. Then the sharpers left the Shaykh and the merchant returned to his lodging. Now when morning morrowed, the gamester came to him and summoned him to drink the sea; so he said to him, “Hold for me its mouth and I will drink it up.” Whereupon he confessed himself beaten and redeemed his foreit by paying an hundred gold pieces. Then came the cobbler and sought of him what should content him. Quoth the merchant, “Our lord the Sultan hath overcome his foes and hath destroyed his enemies and his children are multiplied. Art thou content or no?” “I am content,” replied the cobbler and, giving up the shoe4 without wage, went away. Next came the one-eyed man and demanded the legal price of his eye. Said the merchant, “Pluck out thine eye, and I will pluck out mine: then we will weigh them, and if they are equal in weight, I will acknowledge thy truth, and pay thee the price of thine eye; but, if they differ, thou liest and I will sue thee for the price of mine eye.” Quoth the one-eyed man, “Grant me time;” but the merchant answered, saying, “I am a stranger and grant time to none, nor will I part from thee till thou pay.” So the sharper ransomed his eye by paying him an hundred ducats and went away. Last of all came the buyer of the chanders-wood and said, “Take the price of thy ware.” Asked the merchant, “What wilt thou give me?”; and the other answered, “We agreed for a Sá‘a-measure of whatever thou shouldst desire; so, if thou wilt, take it full of gold and silver.” “Not I,” rejoined the merchant, “Not I! nothing shall serve me but I must have it full of fleas, half male and half female.” Said the sharper, “I can do nothing of the kind;” and, confessing himself beaten, returned him his sandal-wood and redeemed himself from him with an hundred sequins, to be off his bargain. Then the merchant sold the chanders-wood at his own price and, quitting the city of sharpers, returned to his own land, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This was not the condition; but I have left the text as it is characteristic of the writer’s inconsequence.
2 The idea would readily occur in Egypt where the pulex is still a plague although the Sultan is said to hold his court at Tiberias. “Male and female” says the rouge, otherwise it would be easy to fill a bushel with fleas. The insect was unknown to older India according to some and was introduced by strangers. This immigration is quite possible. In 1863 the jigger (P. penetrans) was not found in Western Africa; when I returned there in 1882 it had passed over from the Brazil and had become naturalised on the equatorial African seaboard. the Arabs call shrimps and prawns “sea-fleas” (bargúth al-bahr) showing an inland race. (See Pilgrimage i. 322.)
3 Submission to the Sultan and the tidings of his well-being should content every Eastern subject. But, as Oriental history shows, the form of government is a Despotism tempered by assassination. And under no rule is man socially freer and his condition contrasts strangely with the grinding social tyranny which characterises every mode of democracy or constitutionalism, i.e. political equality.
4 Here the text has “Markúb” = a shoe; elsewhere “Na’al” = a sandal, especially with wooden sole. In classical Arabia, however, “Na’al” may be a shoe, a horse-shoe (iron-plate, not rim like ours). The Bresl. Edit. has “Watá,” any foot-gear.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the merchant had sold his chanders-wood and had taken the money he quitted that city and returned to his own land. Then the Prince continued, “But this is not more wondrous than the tale of the three-year-old child.” “What may that be?” asked the King, and the Prince answered, “I have heard tell this tale of
Know, O King that a certain profligate man, who was addicted to the sex, once heard of a beautiful and lovely woman who dwelt in a city other than his own. So he journeyed thither, taking with him a present, and wrote her a note, setting forth all that he suffered of love-longing and desire for her and how his passion for her had driven him to forsake his native land and come to her; and he ended by praying for an assignation. She gave him leave to visit her and, as he entered her abode, she stood up and received him with all honour and worship, kissing his hands and entertaining him with the best entertainment of meat and drink. Now she had a little son, but three years old, whom she left and busied herself in cooking rice.1 Presently the man said to her, “Come, let us go and lie together;” but she replied, “My son is sitting looking at us.” Quoth the man, “He is a little child, understanding not neither knowing how to speak.” Quoth the woman, “Thou wouldst not say thus, and thou knew his intelligence.” When the boy saw that the rice was done, he wept with bitter weeping and his mother said to him, “What gars thee weep, O my son?” “Ladle me out some rice,” answered he, “and put clarified butter in it.” So she ladled him out somewhat of rice and put butter therein; and the child ate a little, then began to weep again. Quoth she, “What ails thee now, O my son?”; and quoth he, “O mother mine, I want some sugar with my rice.” At this said the man, who was an-angered, “Thou art none other than a curst child.” “Curst thyself, by Allah,” answered the boy, “seeing thou weariest thyself and journeyest from city to city, in quest of adultery. As for me, I wept because I had somewhat in my eye, and my tears brought it out; and now I have eaten rice with butter and sugar and am content; so which is the curst of us twain?” The man was confounded at this rebuke from a little child and forthright grace entered him and he was reclaimed. Wherefor he laid not a finger on the woman, but went out from her and returned to his own country, where he lived a contrite life till he died. “As for the story of the five-year-old child” (continued the Prince), “I have heard tell, O King, the following anent
1 Water-melons (batáyikh) says the Mac. Edit. a misprint for Aruz or rice. Water-melons are served up raw cut into square mouthfuls, to be eaten with rice and meat. They serve excellently well to keep the palate clean and cool.
Four merchants once owned in common a thousand gold pieces; so they laid them mingled together in one purse and set out to buy merchandise therewith. They happened as they wended their way on a beautiful garden; so they left the purse with a woman who had care of the garden, saying to here, “Mind thee, thou shalt not give it back save when all four of us in person demand it of thee.” She agreed to this and they entered and strolled awhile about the garden-walks and ate and drank and made merry, after which one of them said to the others, “I have with me scented fuller’s-earth; come, let us wash our heads therewith in this running water.” Quoth another, “We lack a comb;” and a third, “Let us ask the keeper; belike she hath a comb.” Thereupon one of them arose and accosting the care-taker, said to her, “Give me the purse.” Said she, “Not until ye be all present or thy fellows bid me give it thee.” Then he called to his companions (who could see him but not hear him) saying, “She will not give it me;” and they said to her, “Give it him,” thinking he meant the comb. So she gave him the purse and he took it and made off as fast as he could. When the three others were wary of waiting, they went to the keeper and asked her, “Why wilt thou not give him the comb?” Answered she, “He demanded naught of me save the purse, and I gave not that same but with your consent, and he went his way with it.” When they heard her words they buffeted their faces and, laying hands upon her, said, “We authorized thee only to give him the comb;” and she rejoined, “He named not a comb to me.” Then they seized her and haled her before the Kazi, to whom they related their claim and he condemned her to make good the the purse and bound over sundry of her debtors to answer for her. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Kazi condemned the care-taker to make good the purse and bound over sundry of her debtors to answer for her. So she went forth, confounded and knowing not her way out of difficulty. Presently she met a five-year-old boy who, seeing her troubled, said to her, “What ails thee, O my mother?” But she gave him no answer, contemning him because of his tender age, and he repeated his question a second time and a third time till, at last, she told him all that had passed,1 not forgetting the condition that she was to keep the purse until all four had demanded it of her. Said the boy, “Give me a dirham to buy sweetmeats withal and I will tell the how thou mayst acquit thyself.” So she gave him a silver and said to him, “What hast thou to say?” Quoth he, “Return to the Kazi, and say to him, It was agreed between myself and them that I should not give them the purse, except all four of them were present. Let them all four come and I will give them the purse, as was agreed.” So she went back to the Kazi and said to him as the boy had counselled; and he asked the merchants, “Was it thus agreed between you and this woman?”; and they answered, “Yes.” Quoth the Kazi, “Then bring me your comrade and take the purse.” So they went in quest of their fellow, whilst the keeper came off scot-free and went her way without let or hindrance. And Allah is Omniscient!2 When the King and his Wazir and those present in the assembly heard the Prince’s words they said to his father, “O our lord the King, in very sooth thy son is the most accomplished man of his time;” and they called down blessings upon the King and the Prince. Then the King strained his son to his bosom and kissed him between the eyes and questioned him of what had passed between the favourite and himself; and the Prince sware to him, by Almighty Allah and by His Holy Prophet that it was she who had required him of love which he refused, adding, “Moreover, she promised me that she would give thee poison to drink and kill the, so should the kingship be mine; whereupon I waxed wroth and signed to her, ‘O accursed one, whenas I can speak I will requite thee!’ So she feared me and did what she did.” The King believed his words and sending for the favourite said to those present, “How shall we put this damsel to death?” Some counselled him to cut out her tongue and other some to burn it with fire; but, when she came before the King, she said to him, “My case with thee is like unto naught save the tale of the fox and the folk.” “How so?” asked he; and she said, “I have heard, O King, tell a
1 The text recounts the whole story over again — more than European patience can bear.
2 The usual formula when telling an improbable tale. But here it is hardly called for: the same story is told (on weak authority) of the Alewife, the Three Graziers and Attorney–General Nay (temp. James II. 1577–1634) when five years old (Journ. Asiat. Soc. N.S. xxx. 280). The same feat had been credited to Thomas Egerton, Lord Chancellor in A.D. 1540–1617 (Chalmers, Biographical Dictionary xxiii. 267–68). But the story had already found its way into the popular jest-books such as “Tales and Quick Answers, very Mery and Pleasant to Rede” (1530); “Jacke of Dover’s Quest of Inquirie for the Foole of all Fooles” (1604) under the title “The Foole of Westchester”, and in “Witty and Entertaining Exploits of George Buchanan, commonly called the King’s Fool.” The banker-bard Rogers (in Italy) was told a similar story concerning a widow of the Lambertini house (xivth centry). Thomas Wright (Introducition to the Seven Sages) says he had met the tale in Latin( xiiith-xivth centuries) and a variant in the “Nouveaux Contes à rire (Amsterdam 1737), under the title “Jugement Subtil du Duc d’Ossone contre Deux Marchands.” Its origin is evidently the old Sindibád-namah translated from Syriac into Greek (“Syntipas,” xith century); into Hebrew (Mishlé Sandabar, xiith century) and from the Arabian version into old Castilian, “Libro de los Engannos et los Asayamientos de las Mugeres” (A.D. 1255), whereof a translation is appended to Professor Comparetti’s Socitey. The Persion metrical form (an elaboration of one much older) dates from 1375; and gave rise to a host of imitations such as the Turkish Tales of the Forty Wazirs and the Canarese “Kathá Manjari,” where four persons contend about a purse. See also Gladwin’s “Persian Moonshee,” No. vi. of “Pleasing Stories;” and Mr. Clouston’s paper, “The Lost Purse,” in the Glasgow Evening Times. All are the Eastern form of Gavarni’s “Enfants Terribles,” showing the portentous precocity for which some children (infant phenomena, calculating boys, etc. etc.) have been famous.
A fox once made his way into a city by the wall and, entering a currier’s store-house, played havoc with all therein and spoiled the skins for the owner. One day, the currier set a trap for him and taking him, beat him with the hides, till he fell down senseless, whereupon the man deeming him to be dead, cast him out into the road by the city-gate. Presently, an old woman who was walking by, seeing the fox said, “This is a fox whose eye, hung about a child’s neck, is salutary against weeping.” So she pluckt out his right eye and went away. Then passed a boy, who said, “What does this tail on this fox?”; and cut off his brush. After a while, up came a man and saying, “This is a fox whose gall cleareth away film and dimness from the eyes, if they be anointed therewith like kohl,” took out his knife to slit up the fox’s paunch. But Reynard said in himself, “We bore with the plucking out of the eye and the cutting off of the tail; but, as for the slitting of the paunch, there is no putting up with that!” So saying, he sprang up and made off through the gate of the city, hardly believing in his escape. Quoth the King, “I excuse her, and in my son’s hands be her doom. If he will, let him torture her, and if he will, let him kill her.” Quoth the Prince, “Pardon is better than vengeance and mercy is of the quality of the noble;” and the King repeated, “’Tis for thee to decide, O my son.” So the Prince set her free, saying, “Depart from our neighbourhood and Alla pardon what is past!” Therewith the King rose from his throne of estate and seating his son thereon, crowned him with his crown and bade the Grandees of his realm swear fealty and commanded them do homage to him. And he said, “O folk, indeed, I am stricken in years and desire to withdraw apart and devote myself only to the service of my Lord; and I call you to witness that I divest myself of the kingly dignity, even as I have divested myself of my crown and set it on my son’s head.” So the troops and officers swore fealty to the Prince, and his father gave himself up to the worship of his Lord nor stinted from this, whilst his son abode in his kingship, doing justice and righteousness; and his power was magnified and his sultanate strengthened and he abode in all delight and solace of life, till there came to him the Certainty.
1 From the Bresl. Edit. xii. 381. The Sa’lab or Abu Hosayn (Father of the Fortlet) is the fox, in Marocco Akkáb: Talib Yusuf and Wa’wi are the jackal. Arabas have not preserved “Jakal” from the Heb. Shu’al and Persian Shaghal and Persian Shaghál (not Shagul) as the Rev. Mr. Tristram misinforms his readers. (Nat. Hist. p. 85)
There was once a man and a merchant named Omar and he had for issue three sons, the eldest called Sálim, the youngest Júdar and the cadet Salím. He reared them all till they came to man’s estate, but the youngest he loved more than his brothers, who seeing this, waxed jealous of Judar and hated him. Now when their father, who was a man shotten in years, saw that his two eldest sons hated their brother, he feared lest after his death trouble should befall him from them. So he assembled a company of his kinsfolk, together with divers men of learning and property distributors of the Kazi’s court, and bidding bring all his monies and cloth, said to them, “O folk, divide ye this money and stuff into four portions according to the law.” They did so, and he gave one part to each of his sons and kept the fourth himself, saying, “This was my good and I have divided it among them in my lifetime; and this that I have kept shall be for my wife, their mother, wherewithal to provide for her subsistence whenas she shall be a widow.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The name is old and classical Arabic: in Antar the young Amazon Jaydá was called Judar in public (Story of Jaydá and Khálid). It is also, as will be seen, the name of a quarter in Cairo, and men are often called after such places, e.g. Al–Jubní from the Súk al Jubn in Damascus. The story is exceedingly Egyptian and the style abounds in Cairene vulgarisms, especially in the Bresl. Edit. ix. 311.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the merchant had divided his money and stuff into four portions he said, “This share shall be for my wife, their mother, wherewithal to provide for her subsistence whenas she shall be a widow.” A little while after this he died, and neither of the two elder brothers was content with his share,1 but sought more of Judar, saying, “Our father’s wealth is in thy hands.” So he appealed to the judges; and the Moslems who had been present at the partition came and bore witness of that which they knew, wherefore the judge forbade them from one another; but Judar and his brothers wasted much money in bribes to him. After this, the twain left him awhile; presently, however, they began again to plot against him and he appealed a second time to the magistrate, who once more decided in his favour; but all three lost much money which went to the judges. Nevertheless Sálim and Salím forbore not to seek his hurt and to carry the case from court to court,2 he and they losing till they had given all their good for food to the oppressors and they became poor, all three. Then the two elder brothers went to their mother and flouted her and beat her, and seizing her money crave her away. So she betook herself to her son Judar and told him how his brothers had dealt with her and fell to cursing the twain. Said he, “O my mother, do not curse them, for Allah will requite each of them according to his deed. But, O mother mine, see, I am become poor, and so are my brethren, for strife occasioneth loss ruin rife, and we have striven amain, and fought, I and they, before the judges, and it hath profited us naught: nay, we have wasted all our father left us and are disgraced among the folk by reason of our testimony one against other. Shall I then con tend with them anew on thine account and shall we appeal to the judges? This may not be! Rather do thou take up thine abode with me, and the scone I eat I will share with thee. Do thou pray for me and Allah will give me the means of thine alimony. Leave them to receive of the Almighty the recompense of their deed, and console thyself with the saying of the poet who said,
‘If a fool oppress thee bear patiently;
And from Time expect thy revenge to see:
Shun tyranny; for if mount oppressed
A mount, ‘twould be shattered by tyranny.’ ”
And he soothed and comforted her till she consented and took up her dwelling with him. Then he get him a net and went a fishing every day in the river or the banks about Bulák and old Cairo or some other place in which there was water; and one day he would earn ten coppers,3 another twenty and another thirty, which he spent upon his mother and himself, and they ate well and drank well. But, as for his brothers, they plied no craft and neither sold nor bought; misery and ruin and overwhelming calamity entered their houses and they wasted that which they had taken from their mother and became of the wretched naked beggars. So at times they would come to their mother, humbling themselves before her exceedingly and complaining to her of hunger; and she (a mother’s heart being pitiful) would give them some mouldy, sour smelling bread or, if there were any meat cooked the day before, she would say to them, “Eat it quick and go ere your brother come; for ‘twould be grievous to him and he would harden his heart against me, and ye would disgrace me with him.” So they would eat in haste and go. One day among days they came in to their mother, and she set cooked meat and bread before them. As they were eating, behold, in came their brother Judar, at whose sight the parent was put to shame and confusion, fearing lest he should be wroth with her; and she bowed her face earthwards abashed before her son. But he smiled in their faces, saying, “Welcome, O my brothers! A blessed day!4 How comes it that ye visit me this blessed day?” Then he embraced them both and entreated them lovingly, saying to them, “I thought not that ye would have left me desolate by your absence nor that ye would have forborne to come and visit me and your mother.” Said they, “By Allah, O our brother, we longed sore for thee and naught withheld us but abashment because of what befell between us and thee; but indeed we have repented much. ’Twas Satan’s doing, the curse of Allah the Most High be upon him! And now we have no blessing but thyself and our mother.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Had the merchant left his property to be divided after his death and not made a will he widow would have had only one-eighth instead of a fourth.
2 Lit. “from tyrant to tyrant,” i.e. from official to official, Al–Zalamah, the “tyranny” of popular parlance.
3 The coin is omitted in the text but it is evidently the “Nusf” or half-dirham. Lane (iii.235), noting that the dinar is worth 170 “nusfs” in this tale, thinks that it was written (or copied?) after the Osmanh Conquest of Egypt. Unfortunately he cannot tell the precise period when the value of the small change fell so low.
4 Arab “Yaum mubárak!” still a popular exclamation.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Judar entered his place and saw his brothers, he welcomed them both, saying, “And I have no blessing but you twain.” And his mother exclaimed, “Allah whiten thy face, and increase thy prosperity, for thou art the most generous of us all, O my son!” Then he said “Welcome to you both! Abide with me; for the Lord is bountiful and good aboundeth with me.” So he made peace with them, and they supped and righted with him; and next morning, after they had broken their fast, Judar shouldered his net and went out, trusting in The Opener1 whilst the two others also went forth and were absent till midday, when they returned and their mother set the noon meal before them. At nightfall Judar came home, bearing meat and greens, and they abode on this wise a month’s space, Judar catching fish and selling it and spending their price on his mother and his brothers, and these eating and frolicking till, one day, it chanced he went down to the river bank and throwing his net, brought it up empty. He cast it a second time, but again it came up empty and he said in himself, “No fish in this place!” So he removed to another and threw the net there, but without avail. And he ceased not to remove from place to place till night fall, but caught not a single sprat2 and said to himself, “Wonderful! Hath the fish fled the river or what?” Then he shouldered the net and made for home, chagrined, concerned, feeling for his mother and brothers and knowing not how he should feed them that night. Presently, he came to a baker’s oven and saw the folk crowding for bread, with silver in their hands, whilst the baker took no note of them. So he stood there sighing, and the baker said to him, “Welcome to thee, O Judar! Dost thou want bread?” But he was silent and the baker continued, “An thou have no dirhams, take thy sufficiency and thou shalt get credit.” So Judar said, “Give me ten coppers’ worth of bread and take this net in pledge.” Rejoined the baker, “Nay, my poor fellow, the net is thy gate of earning thy livelihood, and if I take it from thee, I shall close up against thee the door of thy subsistence. Take thee ten Nusfs’ worth of bread and take these other ten, and to morrow bring me fish for the twenty.” “On my head and eyes be it!” quoth Judar and took the bread and money saying, “To morrow the Lord will dispel the trouble of my case and will provide me the means of acquittance.” Then he bought meat and vegetables and carried them home to his mother, who cooked them and they supped and went to bed. Next morning he arose at daybreak and took the net, and his mother said to him, “Sit down and break thy fast.” But he said, “Do thou and my brothers break fast,” and went down to the river about Bulak where he ceased not to cast once, twice, thrice; and to shift about all day, without aught falling to him, till the hour of mid afternoon prayer, when he shouldered his net and went away sore dejected. His way led him perforce by the booth of the baker who, when he saw him counted out to him the loaves and the money, saying, “Come, take it and go; an it be not today, ’twill be tomorrow.” Judar would have excused himself, but the baker said to him, “Go! There needeth no excuse; an thou had netted aught, it would be with thee; so seeing thee empty handed, I knew thou hadst gotten naught; and if tomorrow thou have no better luck, come and take bread and be not abashed, for I will give thee credit.” So Judar took the bread and money and went home. On the third day also he sallied forth and fished from tank to tank until the time of afternoon prayer, but caught nothing; so he went to the baker and took the bread and silver as usual. On this wise he did seven days running, till he became disheartened and said in himself, “To day I go to the Lake Kárún.”3 So he went thither and was about to cast his net, when there came up to him unawares a Maghrabí, a Moor, clad in splendid attire and riding a she mule with a pair of gold embroidered saddle bags on her back and all her trappings also orfrayed. The Moor alighted and said to him, “Peace be upon thee, O Judar, O son of Omar!” “And on thee likewise be peace, O my lord the pilgrim!” replied the fisherman. Quoth the Maghrabi, “O Judar, I have need of thee and, given thou obey me, thou shalt get great good and shalt be my companion and manage my affairs for me.” Quoth Judar, “O my lord, tell me what is in thy mind and I will obey thee, without demur.” Said the Moor, “Repeat the Fatihah, the Opening Chapter of the Koran.”4 So he recited it with him and the Moor bringing out a silken cord, said to Judar, “Pinion my elbows behind me with this cord, as fast as fast can be, and cast me into the lake; then wait a little while; and, if thou see me put forth my hands above the water, raising them high ere my body show, cast thy net over me and drag me out in haste; but if thou see me come up feet foremost, then know that I am dead; in which case do thou leave me and take the mule and saddle bags and carry them to the merchants’ bazaar, where thou wilt find a Jew by name Shamáyah. Give him the mule and he will give thee an hundred dinars, which do thou take and go thy ways and keep the matter secret with all secrecy.” So Judar tied his arms tightly behind his back and he kept saying, “Tie tighter.” Then said he “Push me till I fall into the lake:” so he pushed him in and he sank. Judar stood waiting some time till, behold, the Moor’s feet appeared above the water, whereupon he knew that he was dead. So he left him and drove the mule to the bazaar, where seated on a stool at the door of his storehouse he saw the Jew who spying the mule, cried, “In very sooth the man hath perished,” adding, “and naught undid him but covetise.” Then he took the mule from Judar and gave him an hundred dinars, charging him to keep the matter secret. So Judar went and bought what bread he needed, saying to the baker, “Take this gold piece!”; and the man summed up what was due to him and said, “I still owe thee two days’ bread”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. of the door of daily bread.
2 Arab. “Sírah,” a small fish differently described (De Sacy, “Relation de l’Egypte par Abd allatif,” pp. 278–288: Lane, Nights iii. 234. It is not found in Sonnini’s list.
3 A tank or lakelet in the southern parts of Cairo, long ago filled up; Von Hammer believes it inherited the name of the old Charon’s Lake of Memphis, over which corpses were ferried.
4 Thus making the agreement a kind of religious covenant, as Catholics would recite a Pater or an Ave Maria.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Judar, when the baker after summing up what was due to him said, “I still owe thee two days’ bread,” replied, “Good,” and went on to the butcher, to whom he gave a gold piece and took meat, saying, “Keep the rest of the dinar on account.” Then he bought vegetables and going home, found his brothers importuning their mother for victual, whilst she cried, “Have patience till your brother come home, for I have naught.” So he went in to them and said, “Take and eat;” and they fell on the food like cannibals. Then he gave his mother the rest of his gold saying, “If my brothers come to thee, give them wherewithal to buy food and eat in my absence.” He slept well that night and next morning he took his net and going down to Lake Karun stood there and was about to cast his net, when behold, there came up to him a second Maghribi, riding on a she mule more handsomely accoutred than he of the day before and having with him a pair of saddle bags of which each pocket contained a casket. “Peace be with thee, O Judar!” said the Moor: “And with thee be peace, O my lord, the pilgrim!” replied Judar. Asked the Moor, “Did there come to thee yesterday a Moor riding on a mule like this of mine?” Hereat Judar was alarmed and answered, “I saw none,” fearing lest the other say, “Whither went he?” and if he replied, “He was drowned in the lake,” that haply he should charge him with having drowned him; wherefore he could not but deny. Rejoined the Moor, “Hark ye, O unhappy!1 this was my brother, who is gone before me.” Judar persisted, “I know naught of him.” Then the Moor enquired, “Didst thou not bind his arms behind him and throw him into the lake, and did he not say to thee, ‘If my hands appear above the water first, cast thy net over me and drag me out in haste; but, if my feet show first, know that I am dead and carry the mule to the Jew Shamayah, who shall give thee an hundred dinars?’” Quoth Judar, “Since thou knowest all this why and wherefore dost thou question me?”; and quoth the Moor, “I would have thee do with me as thou didst with my brother.” Then he gave him a silken cord, saying, “Bind my hands behind me and throw me in, and if I fare as did my brother, take the mule to the Jew and he will give thee other hundred dinars.” Said Judar, “Come on;” so he came and he bound him and pushed him into the lake, where he sank. Then Judar sat watching and after awhile, his feet appeared above the water and the fisher said, “He is dead and damned! Inshallah, may Maghribis come to me every day, and I will pinion them and push them in and they shall die; and I will content me with an hundred dinars for each dead man.” Then he took the mule to the Jew, who seeing him asked, “The other is dead?” Answered Judar, “May thy head live!”; and the Jew said, “This is the reward of the covetous!” Then he took the mule and gave Judar an hundred dinars, with which he returned to his mother. “O my son,” said she, “whence hast thou this?” So he told her, and she said, “Go not again to Lake Karun, indeed I fear for thee from the Moors.” Said he, “O my mother, I do but cast them in by their own wish, and what am I to do? This craft bringeth me an hundred dinars a day and I return speedily; wherefore, by Allah, I will not leave going to Lake Karun, till the race of the Magháribah2 is cut off and not one of them is left.” So, on the morrow which was the third day, he went down to the lake and stood there, till there came up a third Moor, riding on a mule with saddle bags and still more richly accoutred than the first two, who said to him, “Peace be with thee, O Judar, O son of Omar!” And the fisherman saying in himself, “How comes it that they all know me?” returned his salute. Asked the Maghribi, “Have any Moors passed by here?” “Two,” answered Judar. “Whither went they?” enquired the Moor, and Judar replied, “I pinioned their hands behind them and cast them into the lake, where they were drowned, and the same fate is in store for thee.” The Moor laughed and rejoined, saying, “O unhappy! Every life hath its term appointed.” Then he alighted and gave the fisherman the silken cord, saying, “Do with me, O Judar, as thou didst with them.” Said Judar, “Put thy hands behind thy back, that I may pinion thee, for I am in haste, and time flies.” So he put his hands behind him and Judar tied him up and cast him in. Then he waited awhile; presently the Moor thrust both hands forth of the water and called out to him, saying, “Ho, good fellow, cast out thy net!” So Judar threw the net over him and drew him ashore, and lo! in each hand he held a fish as red as coral. Quoth the Moor, “Bring me the two caskets that are in the saddle bags.” So Judar brought them and opened them to him, and he laid in each casket a fish and shut them up. Then he pressed Judar to his bosom and kissed him on the right cheek and the left, saying, “Allah save thee from all stress! By the Almighty, hadst thou not cast the net over me and pulled me out, I should have kept hold of these two fishes till I sank and was drowned, for I could not get ashore of myself.” Quoth Judar, “O my lord the pilgrim, Allah upon thee, tell me the true history of the two drowned men and the truth anent these two fishes and the Jew.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Yá miskím”=O poor devil; mesquin, meschino, words evidently derived from the East.
2 Plur. of Maghribí a Western man, a Moor. I have already derived the word through the Lat. “Maurus” from Maghribiyún. Europeans being unable to pronounce the Ghayn (or gh like the modern Cairenes) would turn it into “Ma’ariyún.” They are mostly of the Maliki school (for which see Sale) and are famous as magicians and treasure-finders. Amongst the suite of the late Amir Abd al-Kadir, who lived many years and died in Damascus, I found several men profoundly versed in Eastern spiritualism and occultism.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Judar asked the Maghribi, saying, “Prithee tell me first of the drowned men,” the Maghribi answered, “Know, O Judar, that these drowned men were my two brothers, by name Abd al-Salám and Abd al — Ahad. My own name is Abd al-Samad, and the Jew also is our brother; his name is Abd al-Rahim and he is no Jew but a true believer of the Maliki school. Our father, whose name was Abd al-Wadúd,1 taught us magic and the art of solving mysteries and bringing hoards to light, and we applied ourselves thereto, till we compelled the Ifrits and Marids of the Jinn to do us service. By and by, our sire died and left us much wealth, and we divided amongst us his treasures and talismans, till we came to the books, when we fell out over a volume called ‘The Fables of the Ancients,’ whose like is not in the world, nor can its price be paid of any, nor is its value to be evened with gold and jewels; for in it are particulars of all the hidden hoards of the earth and the solution of every secret. Our father was wont to make use of this book, of which we had some small matter by heart, and each of us desired to possess it, that he might acquaint himself with what was therein. Now when we fell out there was in our company an old man by name Cohen Al–Abtan,2 who had reared our sire and taught him divination and gramarye, and he said to us, ‘Bring me the book.’ So we gave it him and he continued, ‘Ye are my son’s sons, and it may not be that I should wrong any of you. So whoso is minded to have the volume, let him address himself to achieve the treasure of Al–Shamardal3 and bring me the celestial planisphere and the Kohl phial and the seal ring and the sword. For the ring hath a Marid that serveth it called Al–Ra’ad al-Kásif;4 and whoso hath possession thereof, neither King nor Sultan may prevail against him; and if he will, he may therewith make himself master of the earth, in all the length and breadth thereof. As for the brand, if its bearer draw it and brandish it against an army, the army will be put to the rout; and if he say the while, ‘Slay yonder host,’ there will come forth of that sword lightning and fire, that will kill the whole many. As for the planisphere, its possessor hath only to turn its face toward any country, east or west, with whose sight he hath a mind to solace himself, and therein he will see that country and its people, as they were between his hands and he sitting in his place; and if he be wroth with a city and have a mind to burn it, he hath but to face the planisphere towards the sun’s disc, saying, ‘Let such a city be burnt,’ and that city will be consumed with fire. As for the Kohl phial, whoso pencilleth his eyes therefrom, he shall espy all the treasures of the earth. And I make this condition with you which is that whoso faileth to hit upon the hoards shall forfeit his right; and that none save he who shall achieve the treasure and bring me the four precious things which be therein shall have any claim to take this book.’ So we all agreed to this condition, and he continued, ‘O my sons, know that the treasure of Al–Shamardal is under the commandment of the sons of the Red King, and your father told me that he had himself essayed to open the treasure, but could not; for the sons of the Red King fled from him into the land of Egypt and took refuge in a lake there, called Lake Karun, whither he pursued them, but could not prevail over them, by reason of their stealing into that lake, which was guarded by a spell.’ “— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Cohen al-Abtan had told the youths this much, he continued his tale as follows, “So your father returned empty handed and unable to win to his wish; and after failing he complained to me of his ill-success, whereupon I drew him an astrological figure and found that the treasure could be achieved only by means of a young fisherman of Cairo, hight Judar bin Omar, the place of foregathering with whom was at Lake Karun, for that he should be the means of capturing the sons of the Red King and that the charm would not be dissolved, save if he should bind the hands of the treasure seeker behind him and cast him into the lake, there to do battle with the sons of the Red King. And he whose lot it was to succeed would lay hands upon them; but, if it were not destined to him he should perish and his feet appear above water. As for him who was successful, his hands would show first, whereupon it behoved that Judar should cast the net over him and draw him ashore.” Now quoth my brothers Abd al-Salam and Abd al-Ahad, “We will wend and make trial, although we perish;” and quoth I, “And I also will go;” but my brother Abd al — Rahim (he whom thou sawest in the habit of a Jew) said, “I have no mind to this.” Thereupon we agreed with him that he should repair to Cairo in the disguise of a Jewish merchant, so that, if one of us perished in the lake, he might take his mule and saddle bags and give the bearer an hundred dinars. The first that came to thee the sons of the Red King slew, and so did they with my second brother; but against me they could not prevail and I laid hands on them.” Cried Judar, “And where is thy catch?” Asked the Moor, “Didst thou not see me shut them in the caskets?” “Those were fishes,” said Judar. “Nay,” answered the Maghribi, “they are Ifrits in the guise of fish. But, O Judar,” continued he, “thou must know that the treasure can be opened only by thy means: so say, wilt thou do my bidding and go with me to the city Fez and Mequinez1 where we will open the treasure?; and after I will give thee what thou wilt and thou shalt ever be my brother in the bond of Allah and return to thy family with a joyful heart.” Said Judar, “O my lord the pilgrim, I have on my neck a mother and two brothers,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Fás and Miknás” which the writer evidently regards as one city. “Fás” means a hatchet, from the tradition of one having been found, says Ibn Sa’íd, when digging the base under the founder Idrís bin Idrís (A.D. 808). His sword was placed on the pinnacle of the minaret built by the Imám Abu Ahmad bin Abi Bakr enclosed in a golden étui studded with pearls and precious stones. From the local pronunciation “Fes” is derived the red cap of the nearer Moslem East (see Ibn Batutah p. 230).
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Judar said to the Maghribi, “I have on my neck a mother and two brothers, whose provider I am; and if I go with thee, who shall give them bread to eat?” Replied the Moor, “This is an idle excuse! if it be but a matter of expenditure, I will give thee a thousand ducats for thy mother, wherewith she may provide her self till thou come back: and indeed thou shalt return before the end of four months.” So when Judar heard mention of the thousand diners, he said, “Here with them, O Pilgrim, and I am thy man;” and the Moor, pulling out the money, gave it to him, whereupon he carried it to his mother and told her what had passed between them, saying, “Take these thousand diners and expend of them upon thyself and my brothers, whilst I journey to Marocco with the Moor, for I shall be absent four months, and great good will betide me; so bless me, O my mother!” Answered she, “O my son, thou desolatest me and I fear for thee.” “O my mother,” rejoined he, “no harm can befall him who is in Allah’s keeping, and the Maghribi is a man of worth;” and he went on to praise his condition to her. Quoth she, “Allah incline his heart to thee! Go with him, O my son; peradventure, he will give thee somewhat.” So he took leave of his mother and rejoined the Moor Abd al-Samad, who asked him, “Hast thou consulted thy mother?” “Yes,” answered Judar; “and she blessed me.” “Then mount behind me,” said the Maghribi. So Judar mounted the mule’s crupper and they rode on from noon till the time of mid afternoon prayer, when the fisherman was an hungered; but seeing no victual with the Moor, said to him, “O my lord the pilgrim, belike thou hast forgotten to bring us aught to eat by the way?” Asked the Moor, “Art thou hungry?” and Judar answered, “Yes.” So Abd al-Samad alighted and made Judar alight and take down the saddle bage1; then he said to him, “What wilt thou have, O my brother?” “Anything.” “Allah upon thee, tell me what thou hast a mind to.” “Bread and cheese.” “O my poor fellow! bread and cheese besit thee not; wish for some thing good.” “Just now everything is good to me.” “Dost thou like nice browned chicken?” “Yes!” “Dost thou like rice and honey?” “Yes!” And the Moor went on to ask him if he liked this dish and that dish till he had named four and twenty kinds of meats; and Judar thought to himself, “He must be daft! Where are all these dainties to come from, seeing he hath neither cook nor kitchen? But I’ll say to him, ‘’Tis enough!’” So he cried, “That will do: thou makest me long for all these meats, and I see nothing.” Quoth the Moor, “Thou art welcome, O Judar!” and, putting his hand into the saddle bags, pulled out a golden dish containing two hot browned chickens. Then he thrust his hand a second time and drew out a golden dish, full of kabobs2; nor did he stint taking out dishes from saddle bags, till he had brought forth the whole of the four and twenty kinds he had named, whilst Judar looked on. Then said the Moor, “Fall to poor fellow!”, and Judar said to him, “O my lord, thou carriest in yonder saddle bags kitchen and kitcheners!” The Moor laughed and replied, “These are magical saddle bags and have a servant, who would bring us a thousand dishes an hour, if we called for them.” Quoth Judar, “By Allah, a meat thing in saddle bags’” Then they ate their fill and threw away what was left; after which the Moor replaced the empty dishes in the saddle bags and putting in his hand, drew out an ewer. They drank and making the Wuzu ablution, prayed the mid afternoon prayer; after which Abd al-Samad replaced the ewer and the two caskets in the saddle bags and throwing them over the mule’s back, mounted and cried “Up with thee and let us be off,” presently adding, “O Judar, knowest thou how far we have come since we left Cairo?” “Not I, by Allah,” replied he, and Abd al-Samad, “We have come a whole month’s journey.” Asked Judar, “And how is that?”; and the Moor answered, “Know, O Judar, that this mule under us is a Marid of the Jinn who every day performeth a year’s journey; but, for thy sake, she hath gone an easier pace.” Then they set out again and fared on westwards till nightfall, when they halted and the Maghribi brought out supper from the saddle bags, and in like manner, in the morning, he took forth wherewithal to break their fast. So they rode on four days, journeying till midnight and then alighting and sleeping until morning, when they fared on again; and all that Judar had a mind to, he sought of the Moor, who brought it out of the saddle bags. On the fifth day, they arrived at Fez and Mequinez and entered the city, where all who met the Maghribi saluted him and kissed his hands; and he continued riding through the streets, till he came to a certain door, at which he knocked, whereupon it opened and out came a girl like the moon, to whom said he, “O my daughter, O Rahmah,3 open us the upper chamber.” “On my head and eyes, O my papa!” replied she and went in, swaying her hips to and fro with a graceful and swimming gait like a thirsting gazelle, movements that ravished Judar’s reason, and he said, “This is none other than a King’s daughter.” So she opened the upper chamber, and the Moor, taking the saddle bags from the mule’s back, said, “Go, and God bless thee!” when lo! the earth clove asunder and swallowing the mule, closed up again as before. And Judar said, “O Protector! praised be Allah, who hath kept us in safety on her back!” Quoth the Maghribi, “Marvel not, O Judar. I told thee that the mule was an Ifrit; but come with us into the upper chamber.” So they went up into it, and Judar was amazed at the profusion of rich furniture and pendants of gold and silver and jewels and other rare and precious things which he saw there. As soon as they were seated, the Moor bade Rahmah bring him a certain bundle4 and opening it, drew out a dress worth a thousand diners, which he gave to Judar, saying, “Don this dress, O Judar, and welcome to thee!” So Judar put it on and became a fair en sample of the Kings of the West. Then the Maghribi laid the saddle bags before him, and, putting in his hand, pulled out dish after dish, till they had before them a tray of forty kinds of meat, when he said to Judar, “Come near, O my master! eat and excuse us”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 Arab. “Al–Khurj,” whence the Span. Las Alforjas.
2 Arab. “Kebáb,” mutton or lamb cut into small squares and grilled upon skewers: it is the roast meat of the nearer East where, as in the West, men have not learned to cook meat so as to preserve all its flavour. This is found in the “Asa’o” of the Argentine Gaucho who broils the flesh while still quivering and before the fibre has time to set. Hence it is perfectly tender, if the animal be young, and has a “meaty” taste half lost by keeping
3 Equivalent to our puritanical “Mercy.”
4 Arab. “Bukjah,” from the Persian Bukcheh: a favourite way of keeping fine clothes in the East is to lay them folded in a piece of rough long-cloth with pepper and spices to drive away moths.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Maghribi having served up in the pavilion a tray of forty kinds of meat, said to Judar, “Come near, O my master, and excuse us for that we know not what meats thou desirest; but tell us what thou hast a mind to, and we will set it before thee without delay.” Replied Judar, “By Allah, O my lord the pilgrim, I love all kinds of meat and unlove none; so ask me not of aught, but bring all that cometh to thy thought, for save eating to do I have nought.” After this he tarried twenty days with the Moor, who clad him in new clothes every day, and all this time they ate from the saddle bags; for the Maghribi bought neither meat nor bread nor aught else, nor cooked, but brought everything out of the bags, even to various sorts of fruit. On the twenty first day, he said, “O Judar up with thee; this is the day appointed for opening the hoard of Al–Shamardal.” So he rose and they went afoot1 without the city, where they found two slaves, each holding a she mule. The Moor mounted one beast and Judar the other, and they ceased not riding till noon, when they came to a stream of running water, on whose banks Abd al-Samad alighted saying, “Dismount, O Judar!” Then he signed with his hand to the slaves and said, “To it!” So they took the mules and going each his own way, were absent awhile, after which they returned, one bearing a tent, which he pitched, and the other carpets, which he spread in the tent and laid mattresses, pillows and cushions there around. Then one of them brought the caskets containing the two fishes; and another fetched the saddle bags; whereupon the Maghribi arose and said, “Come, O Judar!” So Judar followed him into the tent and sat down beside him; and he brought out dishes of meat from the saddle bags and they ate the undurn meal. Then the Moor took the two caskets and conjured over them both, whereupon there came from within voices that said, “Adsumus, at thy service, O diviner of the world! Have mercy upon us!” and called aloud for aid. But he ceased not to repeat conjurations and they to call for help, till the two caskets flew in sunder, the fragments flying about, and there came forth two men, with pinioned hands saying, “Quarter, O diviner of the world! What wilt thou with us?” Quoth he, “My will is to burn you both with fire, except ye make a covenant with me, to open to me the treasure of Al–Shamardal.” Quoth they, “We promise this to thee, and we will open the tree sure to thee, so thou produce to us Judar bin Omar, the fisherman, for the hoard may not be opened but by his means, nor can any enter therein save Judar.” Cried the Maghribi “Him of whom ye speak, I have brought, and he is here, listening to you and looking at you.” Thereupon they covenanted with him to open the treasure to him, and he released them. Then he brought out a hollow wand and tablets of red carnelian which he laid on the rod; and after this he took a chafing dish and setting charcoal thereon, blew one breath into it and it kindled forthwith. Presently he brought incense and said, “O Judar, I am now about to begin the necessary conjurations and fumigations, and when I have once begun, I may not speak, or the charm will be naught; so I will teach thee first what thou must do to win thy wish.” “Teach me,” quoth Judar. “Know,” quoth the Moor, “that when I have recited the spell and thrown on the incense, the water will dry up from the river’s bed and discover to thee, a golden door, the bigness of the city gate, with two rings of metal thereon; whereupon do thou go down to the door and knock a light knock and wait awhile; then knock a second time a knock louder than the first and wait another while; after which give three knocks in rapid succession, and thou wilt hear a voice ask, ‘Who knocketh at the door of the treasure, unknowing how to solve the secrets?’ Do thou answer, ‘I am Judar the fisherman son of Omar’: and the door will open and there will come forth a figure with a brand in hand who will say to thee: ‘If thou be that man, stretch forth thy neck, that I may strike off thy head.’ Then do thou stretch forth thy neck and fear not; for, when he lifts his hand and smites thee with the sword, he will fall down before thee, and in a little thou wilt see him a body sans soul; and the stroke shall not hurt thee nor shall any harm befall thee; but, if thou gainsay him, he will slay thee. When thou hast undone his enchantment by obedience, enter and go on till thou see another door, at which do thou knock, and there will come forth to thee a horseman riding a mare with a lance on his shoulder and say to thee, ‘What bringeth thee hither, where none may enter ne man ne Jinni?’ And he will shake his lance at thee. Bare thy breast to him and he will smite thee and fall down forthright and thou shalt see him a body without a soul; but if thou cross him he will kill thee. Then go on to the third door, whence there will come forth to thee a man with a bow and arrows in his hand and take aim at thee. Bare thy breast to him and he will shoot at thee and fall down before thee, a body without a soul; but if thou oppose him, he will kill thee. Then go on to the fourth door”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her per misted say.
1 This is always specified, for respectable men go out of town on horse-back, never on “foot-back,” as our friends the Boers say. I have seen a Syrian put to sore shame when compelled by politeness to walk with me, and every acquaintance he met addressed him “Anta Zalamah!” What! afoot?
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Maghribi said to Judar, “Go on to the fourth door and knock and it shall be opened to thee, when there will come forth to thee a lion huge of bulk which will rush upon thee, opening his mouth and showing he hath a mind to devour thee. Have no fear of him, neither flee from him: but when he cometh to thee, give him thy hand and he will bite at it and fall down straightway, nor shall aught of hurt betide thee. Then enter the fifth door, where thou shalt find a black slave, who will say to thee, ‘Who art thou?’ Say, ‘I am Judar!’ and he will answer, ‘If thou be that man, open the sixth door.’ Then do thou go up to the door and say, ‘O Isa, tell Musa to open the door’; whereupon the door will fly open and thou wilt see two dragons, one on the left hand and another on the right, which will open their mouths and fly at thee, both at once. Do thou put forth to them both hands and they will bite each a hand and fall down dead; but an thou resist them, they will slay thee. Then go on to the seventh door and knock, whereupon there will come forth to thee thy mother and say, ‘Welcome, O my son! Come, that I may greet thee!’ But do thou reply, ‘Hold off from me and doff thy dress.’ And she will make answer, ‘O my son, I am thy mother and I have a claim upon thee for suckling thee and for rearing thee: how then wouldst thou strip me naked?’ Then do thou say, ‘Except thou put off thy clothes, I will kill thee!’ and look to thy right where thou wilt see a sword hanging up. Take it and draw it upon her, saying, ‘Strip!’ where upon she will wheedle thee and humble herself to thee; but have thou no ruth on her nor be beguiled, and as often as she putteth off aught, say to her, ‘Off with the rave’; nor do thou cease to threaten her with death, till she doff all that is upon her and fall down, whereupon the enchantment will be dissolved and the charms undone, and thou wilt be safe as to thy life. Then enter the hall of the treasure, where thou wilt see the gold lying in heaps; but pay no heed to aught thereof, but look to a closet at the upper end of the hall, where thou wilt see a curtain drawn. Draw back the curtain and thou wilt descry the enchanter, Al–Shamardal, lying upon a couch of gold, with something at his head round and shining like the moon, which is the celestial planisphere. He is baldrick’d with the sword1; his finger is the ring and about his neck hangs a chain, to which hangs the Kohl phial. Bring me the four talismans, and beware lest thou forget aught of that which I have told thee, or thou wilt repent and there will be fear for thee.” And he repeated his directions a second and a third and a fourth time, till Judar said, “I have them by heart: but who may face all these enchantments that thou namest and endure against these mighty terrors?” Replied the Moor, “O Judar, fear not, for they are semblances without life;” and he went on to hearten him, till he said, “I put my trust in Allah.” Then Abd al-Samad threw perfumes on the chafing dish, and addressed himself to reciting conjurations for a time when, behold, the water disappeared and uncovered the river bed and discovered the door of the treasure, whereupon Judar went down to the door and knocked. Therewith he heard a voice saying, “Who knocketh at the door of the treasure, unknowing how to solve the secrets?” Quoth he, “I am Judar son of Omar;” whereupon the door opened and there came forth a figure with a drawn sword, who said to him, “Stretch forth thy neck.” So he stretched forth his neck and the species smote him and fell down, lifeless. Then he went on to the second door and did the like, nor did he cease to do thus, till he had undone the enchantments of the first six doors and came to the seventh door, whence there issued forth to him his mother, saying, “I salute thee, O my son!” He asked, “What art thou?”, and she answered, “O my son, I am thy mother who bare thee nine months and suckled thee and reared thee.” Quoth he, “Put off thy clothes.” Quoth she, “Thou art my son, how wouldst thou strip me naked?” But he said “Strip, or I will strike off thy head with this sword;” and he stretched out his hand to the brand and drew it upon her saying, “Except thou strip, I will slay thee.” Then the strife became long between them and as often as he redoubled on her his threats, she put off somewhat of her clothes and he said to her, “Doff the rest,” with many menaces; while she removed each article slowly and kept saying, “O my son, thou hast disappointed my fosterage of thee,” till she had nothing left but her petticoat trousers Then said she, “O my son, is thy heart stone? Wilt thou dishonour me by discovering my shame? Indeed, this is unlawful, O my son!” And he answered, “Thou sayest sooth; put not off thy trousers.” At once, as he uttered these words, she cried out, “He hath made default; beat him!” Whereupon there fell upon him blows like rain drops and the servants of the treasure flocked to him and dealt him a funding which he forgot not in all his days; after which they thrust him forth and threw him down without the treasure and the hoard doors closed of themselves, whilst the waters of the river returned to their bed. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This tale, including the Enchanted Sword which slays whole armies, was adopted in Europe as we see in Straparola (iv. 3), and the “Water of Life” which the Grimms found in Hesse, etc., “Gammer Grethel’s German Popular Stories,” Edgar Taylor, Bells, 1878; and now published in fuller form as “Grimm’s Household Tales,” by Mrs. Hunt, with Introduction by A. Lang, 2 vols. 8vo, 1884. It is curious that so biting and carping a critic, who will condescend to notice a misprint in another’s book, should lay himself open to general animadversion by such a rambling farrago of half-digested knowledge as that which composes Mr. Andrew Lang’s Introduction.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the servants of the treasure beat Judar and cast him out and the hoard doors closed of themselves, whilst the river waters returned to their bed, Abd al-Samad the Maghribi took Judar up in haste and repeated conjurations over him, till he came to his senses but still dazed as with drink, when he asked him, “What hast thou done, O wretch?” Answered Judar, “O my brother, I undid all the opposing enchantments, till I came to my mother and there befell between her and myself a long contention. But I made her doff her clothes, O my brother, till but her trousers remained upon her and she said to me, ‘Do not dishonour me; for to discover one’s shame is forbidden.’ So I left her her trousers out of pity, and behold, she cried out and said, ‘He hath made default; beat him!’ Whereupon there came out upon me folk, whence I know not, and funding me with a belabouring which was a Sister of Death, thrust me forth; nor do I know what befell me after this.” Quoth the Moor, “Did I not warn thee not to swerve from my directions? Verily, thou hast injured me and hast injured thyself: for if thou hadst made her take off her petticoat trousers, we had won to our wish; but now thou must abide with me till this day next year.” Then he cried out to the two slaves, who struck the tent forthright and loaded it on the beasts; then they were absent awhile and presently returned with the two mules; and the twain mounted and rode back to the city of Fez, where Judar tarried with the Maghribi, eating well and drinking well and donning a grand dress every day, till the year was ended and the anniversary day dawned. Then the Moor said to him, “Come with me, for this is the appointed day.” And Judar said, “’Tis well.” So the Maghribi carried him without the city, where they found the two slaves with the mules, and rode on till they reached the river. Here the slaves pitched the tent and furnished it; and the Moor brought forth the tray of food and they ate the morning meal; after which Abd al-Samad brought out the wand and the tablets as before and, kindling the fire in the chafing dish, made ready the incense. Then said he, “O Judar, I wish to renew my charge to thee.” “O my lord the pilgrim,” replied he, “if I have forgotten the bastinado, I have forgotten the injunctions.”1 Asked the Moor, “Dost thou indeed remember them?” and he answered, “Yes.” Quoth the Moor, “Keep thy wits, and think not that the woman is thy very mother; nay, she is but an enchantment in her semblance, whose purpose is to find thee defaulting. Thou camest off alive the first time; but, an thou trip this time, they will slay thee.” Quoth Judar, “If I slip this time, I deserve to be burnt of them.” Then Abd al-Samad cast the perfumes into the fire and recited the conjurations, till the river dried up; whereupon Judar descended and knocked. The door opened and he entered and undid the several enchantments, till he came to the seventh door and the semblance of his mother appeared before him, saying, “Welcome,2 O my son!” But he said to her, “How am I thy son, O accursed? Strip!” And she began to wheedle him and put off garment after garment, till only her trousers remained; and he said to her, “Strip, O accursed!” So she put off her trousers and became a body without a soul. Then he entered the hall of the treasures, where he saw gold lying in heaps, but paid no heed to it and passed on to the closet at the upper end, where he saw the enchanter Al–Shamardal lying on a couch of gold, baldrick’d with the sword, with the ring on his finger, the Kohl phial on his breast and the celestial planisphere hanging over his head. So he loosed the sword and taking the ring, the Kohl phial and the planisphere, went forth, when behold, a band of music sounded for him and the servants of the treasure cried out, saying, “Mayest thou be assained with that thou hast gained, O Judar!” Nor did the music leave sounding, till he came forth of the treasure to the Maghribi, who gave up his conjurations and fumigations and rose up and embraced him and saluted him. Then Judar made over to him the four hoarded talismans, and he took them and cried out to the slaves, who carried away the tent and brought the mules. So they mounted and returned to Fez-city, where the Moor fetched the saddle bags and brought forth dish after dish of meat, till the tray was full, and said, “O my brother, O Judar, eat!” So he ate till he was satisfied, when the Moor emptied what remained of the meats and other dishes and returned the empty platters to the saddle bags. Then quoth he, “O Judar, thou hast left home and native land on our account and thou hast accomplished our dearest desire; wherefore thou hast a right to require a reward of us. Ask, therefore, what thou wilt, it is Almighty Allah who giveth unto thee by our means.3 Ask thy will and be not ashamed, for thou art deserving.” “O my lord,” quoth Judar, “I ask first of Allah the Most High and then of thee, that thou give me yonder saddle bags.” So the Maghribi called for them and gave them to him, saying, “Take them, for they are thy due; and, if thou hadst asked of me aught else instead, I had given it to thee. Eat from them, thou and thy family; but, my poor fellow, these will not profit thee, save by way of provaunt, and thou hast wearied thyself with us and we promised to send thee home rejoicing. So we will join to these other saddle bags, full of gold and gems, and forward thee back to thy native land, where thou shalt become a gentleman and a merchant and clothe thyself and thy family; nor shalt thou want ready money for thine expenditure. And know that the manner of using our gift is on this wise. Put thy hand therein and say, ‘O servant of these saddle bags, I conjure thee by the virtue of the Mighty Names which have power over thee, bring me such a dish!’ And he will bring thee whatsoever thou askest, though thou shouldst call for a thousand different dishes a day.” So saying, he filled him a second pair of saddle bags half with gold and half with gems and precious stones; and, sending for a slave and a mule, said to him, “Mount this mule, and the slave shall go before thee and show thee the way, till thou come to the door of thy house, where do thou take the two pair of saddle bags and give him the mule, that he may bring it back. But admit none into thy secret; and so we commend thee to Allah!” “May the Almighty increase thy good!” replied Judar and, laying the two pairs of saddle bags on the mule’s back, mounted and set forth. The slave went on before him and the mule followed him all that day and night, and on the morrow he entered Cairo by the Gate of Victory,4 where he saw his mother seated, saying, “Alms, for the love of Allah!” At this sight he well nigh lost his wits and alighting, threw himself upon her: and when she saw him she wept. Then he mounted her on the mule and walked by her stirrup,5 till they came to the house, where he set her down and, taking the saddle bags, left the she mule to the slave, who led her away and returned with her to his master, for that both slave and mule were devils. As for Judar, it was grievous to him that his mother should beg; so, when they were in the house, he asked her, “O my mother, are my brothers well?”; and she answered, “They are both well.” Quoth he, “Why dost thou beg by the wayside?” Quoth she, “Because I am hungry, O my son,” and he, ‘Before I went away, I gave thee an hundred diners one day, the like the next and a thousand on the day of my departure.” “O my son, they cheated me and took the money from me, saying, ‘We will buy goods with it.’ Then they drove me away, and I fell to begging by the wayside, for stress of hunger.” “O my mother, no harm shall befall thee, now I am come; so have no concern, for these saddle bags are full of gold and gems, and good aboundeth with me.” “Verily, thou art blessed, O my son! Allah accept of thee and increase thee of His bounties! Go, O my son, fetch us some victual, for I slept not last night for excess of hunger, having gone to bed supperless. “Welcome to thee, O my mother! Call for what thou wilt to eat, and I will set it before thee this moment; for I have no occasion to buy from the market, nor need I any to cook. “O my son, I see naught with thee.” “I have with me in these saddle bags all manner of meats.” “O my son, whatever is ready will serve to stay hunger.” “True, when there is no choice, men are content with the smallest thing; but where there is plenty, they like to eat what is good: and I have abundance; so call for what thou hast a mind to.” “O my son, give me some hot bread and a slice of cheese.” “O my mother, this befitteth not thy condition.” “Then give me to eat of that which besitteth my case, for thou knowest it.” “O my mother,” rejoined he, “what suit thine estate are browned meat and roast chicken and peppered rice and it becometh thy rank to eat of sausages and stuffed cucumbers and stuffed lamb and stuffed ribs of mutton and vermicelli with broken almonds and nuts and honey and sugar and fritters and almond cakes.” But she thought he was laughing at her and making mock of her; so she said to him, “Yauh! Yauh!6 what is come to thee? Dost thou dream or art thou daft?” Asked he, “Why deemest thou that I am mad?” and she answered, “Because thou namest to me all manner rich dishes. Who can avail unto their price, and who knoweth how to dress them?” Quoth he, “By my life! thou shalt eat of all that I have named to thee, and that at once;” and quoth she, “I see nothing;” and he, “Bring me the saddle bags.” So she fetched them and feeling them, found them empty. However, she laid them before him and he thrust in his hand and pulled out dish after dish, till he had set before her all he had named. Whereupon asked she, “O my son, the saddle bags are small and moreover they were empty; yet hast thou taken thereout all these dishes. Where then were they all?”; and he answered, “O my mother, know that these saddle bags, which the Moor gave me, are enchanted and they have a servant whom, if one desire aught, he hath but to adjure by the Names which command him, saying, ‘O servant of these saddle bags, bring me such a dish!’ and he will bring it.” Quoth his mother, “And may I put out my hand and ask of him?” Quoth he, “Do so.” So she stretched out her hand and said, “O servant of the saddle bags, by the virtue of the Names which command thee, bring me stuffed ribs.” Then she thrust in her hand and found a dish containing delicate stuffed ribs of lamb. So she took it out, and called for bread and what else she had a mind to: after which Judar said to her, “O my mother, when thou hast made an end of eating, empty what is left of the food into dishes other than these, and restore the empty platters to the saddle bags carefully.” So she arose and laid them up in a safe place. “And look, O mother mine, that thou keep this secret,” added he; “and whenever thou hast a mind to aught, take it forth of the saddle bags and give alms and feed my brothers, whether I be present or absent.” Then he fell to eating with her and behold, while they were thus occupied, in came his two brothers, whom a son of the quarter7 had apprised of his return, saying, “Your brother is come back, riding on a she mule, with a slave before him, and wearing a dress that hath not its like.” So they said to each other, “Would to Heaven we had not evilly entreated our mother! There is no hope but that she will surely tell him how we did by her, and then, oh our disgrace with him!” But one of the twain said, “Our mother is soft hearted, and if she tell him, our brother is yet tenderer over us than she; and, given we excuse ourselves to him, he will accept our excuse.” So they went in to him and he rose to them and saluting them with the friendliest salutation, bade them sit down and eat. So they ate till they were satisfied, for they were weak with hunger; after which Judar said to them, “O my brothers, take what is left and distribute it to the poor and needy.” “O brother,” replied they, “let us keep it to sup withal.” But he answered, “When supper time cometh, ye shall have more than this.” So they took the rest of the victual and going out, gave it to every poor man who passed by them, saying, “Take and eat,” till nothing was left. Then they brought back the dishes and Judar said to his mother, “Put them in the saddle bags.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These retorts of Judar are exactly what a sharp Egyptian Fellah would say on such occasions.
2 Arab. “Salámát,” plur. of Salam, a favourite Egyptian welcome.
3 This sentence expresses a Moslem idea which greatly puzzles strangers. Arabic has no equivalent of our “Thank you” (Kassara ’llah Khayr-ak being a mere blessing Allah increase thy weal!), nor can Al-lslam express gratitude save by a periphrase. The Moslem acknowledges a favour by blessing the donor and by wishing him increase of prosperity. “May thy shadow never be less! “ means, Mayest thou always extend to me thy shelter and protection. I have noticed this before but it merits repetition. Strangers, and especially Englishmen, are very positive and very much mistaken upon a point, which all who have to do with Egyptians and Arabs ought thoroughly to understand. Old dwellers in the East know that the theory of ingratitude in no way interferes with the sense of gratitude innate in man (and beast) and that the “lively sense of favours to come,” is as quick in Orient land as in Europe.
4 Outside this noble gate, the Bab al-Nay, there is a great cemetery wherein, by the by, lies Burckhardt, my predecessor as a Hájj to Meccah and Al–Medinah. Hence many beggars are always found squatting in its neighbourhood.
5 Friends sometimes walk alongside the rider holding the stirrup in sign of affection and respect, especially to the returning pilgrim.
6 Equivalent to our Alas! It is woman’s word never used by men; and foreigners must be most careful of this distinction under pain of incurring something worse than ridicule. I remember an officer in the Bombay Army who, having learned Hindostani from women, always spoke of himself in the feminine and hugely scandalised the Sepoys.
7 i.e. a neighbour. The “quarters” of a town in the East are often on the worst of terms. See Pilgrimage.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Judar, when his brethren had finished their under meal, said to his mother, “Put back the platters in the saddle bags.” And when it was eventide, he entered the saloon and took forth of the saddle bags a table of forty dishes; after which he went up to the upper room and, sitting down between his brothers, said to his mother, “Bring the supper.”1 So she went down to the saloon and, finding there the dishes ready, laid the tray and brought up the forty dishes, one after other. Then they ate the evening meal, and when they had done, Judar said to his brothers, “Take and feed the poor and needy.” So they took what was left and gave alms thereof, and presently he brought forth to them sweetmeats, whereof they ate, and what was left he bade them give to the neighbours. On the morrow, they brake their fast after the same fashion, and thus they fared ten days, at the end of which time quoth Sálim to Salím, “How cometh it that our brother setteth before us a banquet in the morning, a banquet at noon, and a banquet at sundown, besides sweetmeats late at night, and all that is left he giveth to the poor? Verily, this is the fashion of Sultans. Yet we never see him buy aught, and he hath neither kitchener nor kitchen, nor doth he light a fire. Whence hath he this great plenty? Hast thou not a mind to discover the cause of all this?” Quoth Salím, “By Allah, I know not: but knowest thou any who will tell us the truth of the case?” Quoth Sálim, “None will tell us save our mother.” So they laid a plot and repairing to their mother one day, in their brother’s absence, said to her, “O our mother, we are hungry.” Replied she, “Rejoice, for ye shall presently be satisfied;” and going into the saloon, sought of the servant of the saddle bags hot meats, which she took out and set before her sons. “O our mother,” cried they, “this meat is hot; yet hast thou not cooked, neither kindled a fire.” Quoth she, “It cometh from the saddle bags;” and quoth they, “What manner of thing be these saddle bags?” She answered, “They are enchanted; and the required is produced by the charm:” she then told her sons their virtue, enjoining them to secrecy. Said they, “The secret shall be kept, O our mother, but teach us the manner of this.” So she taught them the fashion thereof and they fell to putting their hands into the saddle bags and taking forth whatever they had a mind to. But Judar knew naught of this. Then quoth Sálim privily to Salím, “O my brother, how long shall we abide with Judar servant wise and eat of his alms? Shall we not contrive to get the saddle bags from him and make off with them?” “And how shall we make shift to do this?” “We will sell him to the galleys.” “How shall we do that?” “We two will go to the Raís, the Chief Captain of the Sea of Suez and bid him to an entertainment, with two of his company. What I say to Judar do thou confirm, and at the end of the night I will show thee what I will do.” So they agreed upon the sale of their brother and going to the Captain’s quarters said to him, “O Rais, we have come to thee on an errand that will please thee.” “Good,” answered he; and they continued, “We two are brethren, and we have a third brother, a lewd fellow and good for nothing. When our father died, he left us some money, which we shared amongst us, and he took his part of the inheritance and wasted it in frowardness and debauchery, till he was reduced to poverty, when he came upon us and cited us before the magistrates, avouching that we had taken his good and that of his father, and we disputed the matter before the judges and lost the money. Then he waited awhile and attacked us a second time, until he brought us to beggary; nor will he desist from us, and we are utterly weary of him; wherefore we would have thee buy him of us.” Quoth the Captain, “Can ye cast about with him and bring him to me here? If so, I will pack him off to sea forthright.” Quoth they “We cannot manage to bring him here; but be thou our guest this night and bring with thee two of thy men, not one more; and when he is asleep, we will aid one another to fall upon him, we five, and seize and gag him. Then shalt thou carry him forth the house, under cover of the night, and after do thou with him as thou wilt.” Rejoined the Captain, “With all my heart! Will ye sell him for forty dinars?” and they, “Yes, come after nightfall to such a street, by such a mosque, and thou shalt find one of us awaiting thee.” And he replied, “Now be off.” Then they repaired to Judar and waited awhile, after which Sálim went up to him and kissed his hand. Quoth Judar, “What ails thee, O my brother?” And he made answer, saying, “Know that I have a friend, who hath many a time bidden me to his house in thine absence and hath ever hospitably entreated me, and I owe him a thousand kindnesses, as my brother here wotteth. I met him to day and he invited me to his house, but I said to him, ‘I cannot leave my brother Judar.’ Quoth he, ‘Bring him with thee’; and quoth I, ‘He will not consent to that; but if ye will be my guests, thou and thy brothers’2 (for his brothers were sitting with him); and I invited them thinking that they would refuse. But he accepted my invitation for all of them, saying, ‘Look for me at the gate of the little mosque,3 and I will come to thee, I and my brothers.’ And now I fear they will come and am ashamed before thee. So wilt thou hearten my heart and entertain them this night, for thy good is abundant, O my brother? Or if thou consent not, give me leave to take them into the neighbours’ houses.” Replied Judar, “Why shouldst thou carry them into the neighbours’ houses? Is our house then so strait or have we not wherewith to give them supper? Shame on thee to consult me! Thou hast but to call for what thou needest and have rich viands and sweetmeats and to spare. Whenever thou bringest home folk in my absence, ask thy mother, and she will set before thee victual more than enough. Go and fetch them; blessings have descended upon us through such guests.” So Sálim kissed his hand and going forth, sat at the gate of the little mosque till after sundown, when the Captain and his men came up to him, and he carried them to the house. When Judar saw them he bade them welcome and seated them and made friends of them, knowing not what the future had in store for him at their hands. Then he called to his mother for supper, and she fell to taking dishes out of the saddlebags, whilst he said, “Bring such and such meats,” till she had set forty different dishes before them. They ate their sufficiency and the tray was taken away, the sailors thinking the while that this liberal entertainment came from Sálim. When a third part of the night was past, Judar set sweetmeats before them and Sálim served them, whilst his two brothers sat with the guests, till they sought to sleep. Accordingly Judar lay down and the others with him, who waited till he was asleep, when they fell upon him together and gagging and pinioning him, before he was awake, carried him forth of the house,4 under cover of the night — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In the patriarchal stage of society the mother waits upon her adult sons. Even in Dalmatia I found, in many old-fashioned houses, the ladies of the family waiting upon the guests. Very pleasant, but somewhat startling at first.
2 Here the apodosis would be “We can all sup together.”
3 Arab. “Záwiyah” (=oratory), which is to a Masjid what a chapel is to a church.
4 Arab. “Kasr,” prop. a palace: so the Tuscan peasant speaks of his “palazzo.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that they seized Judar and carrying him forth of the house under cover of the night, at once packed him off to Suez, where they shackled him and set him to work as a galley slave; and he ceased not to serve thus in silence a whole year.1 So far concerning Judar; but as for his brothers, they went in next morning to his mother and said to her, “O our mother, our brother Judar is not awake.” Said she, “Do ye wake him.” Asked they, “Where lieth he?” and she answered, “With the guests.” They rejoined, “Haply he went away with them whilst we slept, O mother. It would seem that he had tasted of strangerhood and yearned to get at hidden hoards; for we heard him at talk with the Moors, and they said to him, ‘We will take thee with us and open the treasure to thee.’” She enquired, “Hath he then been in company with Moors?;” and they replied, saying, “Were they not our guests yester night?” And she, “Most like he hath gone with them, but Allah will direct him on the right way; for there is a blessing upon him and he will surely come back with great good.” But she wept, for it was grievous to her to be parted from her son. Then said they to her, “O accursed woman, dost thou love Judar with all this love, whilst as for us, whether we be absent or present, thou neither joyest in us nor sorrowest for us? Are we not thy sons, even as Judar is thy son?” She said, “Ye are indeed my sons: but ye are reprobates who deserve no favour of me, for since your father’s death I have never seen any good in you; whilst as for Judar, I have had abundant good of him and he hath heartened my heart and entreated me with honour; wherefore it behoveth me to weep for him, because of his kindness to me and to you.” When they heard this, they abused her and beat her; after which they sought for the saddle bags, till they found the two pairs and took the enchanted one and all the gold from one pouch and jewels from the other of the unenchanted, saying, “This was our father’s good.” Said their mother, “Not so, by Allah!, it belongeth to your brother Judar, who brought it from the land of the Magharibah.” Said they, “Thou liest, it was our father’s property; and we will dispose of it, as we please.” Then they divided the gold and jewels between them; but a brabble arose between them concerning the enchanted saddle bags, Sálim saying, “I will have them;” and Salím, saying, “I will take them;” and they came to high words. Then said she, “O my sons, ye have divided the gold and the jewels, but this may not be divided, nor can its value be made up in money; and if it be cut in twain, its spell will be voided; so leave it with me and I will give you to eat from it at all times and be content to take a morsel with you. If ye allow me aught to clothe me, ’twill be of your bounty, and each of you shall traffic with the folk for himself. Ye are my sons and I am your mother; wherefore let us abide as we are, lest your brother come back and we be disgraced.” But they accepted not her words and passed the night, wrangling with each other. Now it chanced that a Janissary2 of the King’s guards was a guest in the house adjoining Judar’s and heard them through the open window. So he looked out and listening, heard all the angry words that passed between them and saw the division of the spoil. Next morning he presented himself before the King of Egypt, whose name was Shams al-Daulah,3 and told him all he had heard, whereupon he sent for Judar’s brothers and put them to the question, till they confessed; and he took the two pairs of Saddle bags from them and clapped them in prison, appointing a sufficient daily allowance to their mother. Now as regards Judar, he abode a whole year in service at Suez, till one day, being in a ship bound on a voyage over the sea, a wind arose against them and cast the vessel upon a rock projecting from a mountain, where she broke up and all on board were drowned and none get ashore save Judar. As soon as he landed he fared on inland, till he reached an encampment of Badawi, who questioned him of his case, and he told them he had been a sailor.4 Now there was in camp a merchant, a native of Jiddah, who took pity on him and said to him, “Wilt thou take service with me, O Egyptian, and I will clothe thee and carry thee with me to Jiddah?” So Judar took service with him and accompanied him to Jiddah, where he showed him much favour. After awhile, his master the merchant set out on a pilgrimage to Meccah, taking Judar with him, and when they reached the city, the Cairene repaired to the Haram temple, to circumambulate the Ka’abah. As he was making the prescribed circuits,5 he suddenly saw his friend Abd al-Samad the Moor doing the like; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This sale of a free-born Moslem was mere felony. But many centuries later Englishmen used to be sold and sent to the plantations in America.
2 Arab. “Kawwás,” lit. an archer, suggesting les archers de la Sainte Hermandade. In former days it denoted a sergeant, an apparitor, an officer who executed magisterial orders. In modern Egypt he became a policeman (Pilgrimage i. 29). As “Cavass” he appears in gorgeous uniform and sword, an orderly attached to public offices and Consulates.
3 A purely imaginary King.
4 The Bresl. Edit. (ix. 370) here and elsewhere uses the word “Nútiyá”=Nauta, for the common Bahríyah or Malláh.
5 Arab. “Tawaf,” the name given to the sets (Ashwat) of seven circuits with the left shoulder presented to the Holy House, that is walking “widdershins” or “against the sun” (“with the sun” being like the movement of a watch). For the requisites of this rite see Pilgrimage iii. 234.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Judar, as he was making the circuits, suddenly saw his friend Abd al-Samad also circumambulating; and when the Maghribi caught sight of him, he saluted him and asked him of his state; whereupon Judar wept and told him all that had befallen him. So the Moor carried him to his lodging and entreated him with honour, clothing him in a dress of which the like was not, and saying to him, “Thou hast seen the end of thine ills, O Judar.” Then he drew out for him a geomantic figure, which showed what had befallen Sálim and Salím and said to Judar, “Such and such things have befallen thy brothers and they are now in the King of Egypt’s prison; but thou art right welcome to abide with me and accomplish thine ordinances of pilgrimage and all shall be well.” Replied Judar, “O my lord, let me go and take leave of the merchant with whom I am and after I will come back to thee.” “Dost thou owe money?” asked the Moor, and he answered, “No.” Said Abd al-Samad, “Go thou and take leave of him and come back forth right, for bread hath claims of its own from the ingenuous.” So Judar returned to the merchant and farewelled him, saying, “I have fallen in with my brother.”1 “Go bring him here,” said the merchant, “and we will make him an entertainment.” But Judar answered, saying, “He hath no need of that; for he is a man of wealth and hath many servants.” Then the merchant gave Judar twenty dinars, saying, “Acquit me of responsibility”;2 and he bade him adieu and went forth from him. Presently, he saw a poor man, so he gave him the twenty ducats and returned to the Moor, with whom he abode till they had accomplished the pilgrimage rites when Abd al-Samad gave him the seal ring, that he had taken from the treasure of Al–Shamardal, saying, “This ring will win thee thy wish, for it enchanteth and hath a servant, by name Al–Ra’ad al-Kásif; so whatever thou hast a mind to of the wants of this world, rub this ring and its servant will appear and do all thou biddest him.” Then he rubbed the ring before him, whereupon the Jinni appeared, saying, “Adsum, O my lord! Ask what thou wilt and it shall be given thee. Hast thou a mind to people a ruined city or ruin a populous one? to slay a king or to rout a host?” “O Ra’ad,” said Abd al-Samad, “this is become thy lord; do thou serve him faithfully.” Then he dismissed him and said to Judar, “Rub the ring and the servant will appear and do thou command him to do whatever thou desirest, for he will not gainsay thee. Now go to thine own country and take care of the ring, for by means of it thou wilt baffle thine enemies; and be not ignorant of its puissance.” “O my lord,” quoth Judar, “with thy leave, I will set out homewards.” Quoth the Maghribi, “Summon the Jinni and mount upon his back; and if thou say to him, ‘Bring me to my native city this very day,’ he will not disobey thy commandment.” So he took leave of Moor Abd al-Samad and rubbed the ring, whereupon Al–Ra’ad presented himself, saying, “Adsum; ask and it shall be given to thee.” Said Judar, “Carry me to Cairo this day;” and he replied, “Thy will be done;” and, taking him on his back, flew with him from noon till midnight, when he set him down in the courtyard of his mother’s house and disappeared. Judar went in to his mother, who rose weeping, and greeted him fondly, and told him how the King had beaten his brothers and cast them into gaol and taken the two pairs of saddle bags; which when he heard, it was no light matter to him and he said to her, “Grieve not for the past; I will show thee what I can do and bring my brothers hither forth right.” So he rubbed the ring, whereupon its servant appeared, saying, “Here am I! Ask and thou shalt have.” Quoth Judar, “I bid thee bring me my two brothers from the prison of the King.” So the Jinni sank into the earth and came not up but in the midst of the gaol where Sálim and Salím lay in piteous plight and sore sorrow for the plagues of prison,3 so that they wished for death, and one of them said to the other, “By Allah, O my brother, affliction is longsome upon us! How long shall we abide in this prison? Death would be relief.” As he spoke, behold, the earth clove in sunder and out came Al–Ra’ad, who took both up and plunged with them into the earth. They swooned away for excess of fear, and when they recovered, they found themselves in their mother’s house and saw Judar seated by her side. Quoth he, “I salute you, O my brothers! you have cheered me by your presence.” And they bowed their heads and burst into tears. Then said he, “Weep not, for it was Satan and covetise that led you to do thus. How could you sell me? But I comfort myself with the thought of Joseph, whose brothers did with him even more than ye did with me, because they cast him into the pit.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Akh”; brother has a wide signification amongst Moslems and may be used to and of any of the Saving Faith.
2 Said by the master when dismissing a servant and meaning, “I have not failed in my duty to thee!” The answer is, “Allah acquit thee thereof!’
3 A Moslem prison is like those of Europe a century ago; to think of it gives gooseflesh. Easterns laugh at our idea of penitentiary and the Arabs of Bombay call it “Al–Bistán” (the Garden) because the court contains a few trees and shrubs. And with them a garden always suggests an idea of Paradise. There are indeed only two efficacious forms of punishment all the world over, corporal for the poor and fines for the rich, the latter being the severer form.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Judar said to his brothers, “How could you do with me thus? But repent unto Allah and crave pardon of Him, and He will forgive you both, for He is the Most Forgiving, the Merciful. As for me, I pardon you and welcome you: no harm shall befall you.” Then he comforted them and set their hearts at ease and related to them all he had suffered, till he fell in with Shaykh Abd al-Samad, and told them also of the seal ring. They replied, “O our brother, forgive us this time; and, if we return to our old ways, do with us as thou wilt.” Quoth he, “No harm shall befall you; but tell me what the King did with you.” Quoth they, “He beat us and threatened us with death and took the two pairs of saddle bags from us.” “Will he not care?”1 said Judar, and rubbed the ring, whereupon Al–Ra’ad appeared. When his brothers saw him, they were frighted and thought Judar would bid him slay them; so they fled to their mother, crying, “O our mother, we throw our selves on thy generosity; do thou intercede for us, O our mother!” And she said to them, “O my sons, fear nothing!” Then said Judar to the servant, “I command thee to bring me all that is in the King’s treasury of goods and such; let nothing remain and fetch the two pairs of saddle bags he took from my brothers.” “I hear and I obey,” replied Al–Ra’ad; and, disappearing straight way gathered together all he found in the treasury and returned with the two pairs of saddle bags and the deposits therein and laid them before Judar, saying, “O my lord, I have left nothing in the treasury.” Judar gave the treasure to his mother bidding her keep it and laying the enchanted saddle bags before him, said to the Jinni, “I command thee to build me this night a lofty palace and overlay it with liquid gold and furnish it with magnificent furniture: and let not the day dawn, ere thou be quit of the whole work.” Replied he, “Thy bidding shall be obeyed;” and sank into the earth. Then Judar brought forth food and they ate and took their ease and lay down to sleep. Meanwhile, Al–Ra’ad summoned his attendant Jinn and bade them build the palace. So some of them fell to hewing stones and some to building, whilst others plastered and painted and furnished; nor did the day dawn ere the ordinance of the palace was complete; whereupon Al–Ra’ad came to Judar and said to him, “O my lord, the palace is finished and in best order, an it please thee to come and look on it.” So Judar went forth with his mother and brothers and saw a palace, whose like there was not in the whole world; and it confounded all minds with the goodliness of its ordinance. Judar was delighted with it while he was passing along the highway and withal it had cost him nothing. Then he asked his mother, “Say me, wilt thou take up thine abode in this palace?” and she answered, “I will, O my son,” and called down blessings upon him. Then he rubbed the ring and bade the Jinni fetch him forty handsome white hand maids and forty black damsels and as many Mamelukes and negro slaves. “Thy will be done,” answered Al–Ra’ad and betaking himself, with forty of his attendant Genii to Hind and Sind and Persia, snatched up every beautiful girl and boy they saw, till they had made up the required number. Moreover, he sent other four score, who fetched comely black girls, and forty others brought male chattels and carried them all to Judar’s house, which they filled. Then he showed them to Judar, who was pleased with them and said, “Bring for each a dress of the finest.” “Ready!” replied the servant. Then quoth he, “Bring a dress for my mother and another for myself, and also for my brothers.” So the Jinni fetched all that was needed and clad the female slaves, saying to them, “This is your mistress: kiss her hands and cross her not, but serve her, white and black.” The Mamelukes also dressed them selves and kissed Judar’s hands; and he and his brothers arrayed themselves in the robes the Jinni had brought them and Judar became like unto a King and his brothers as Wazirs. Now his house was spacious; so he lodged Sálim and his slave girls in one part thereof and Salím and his slave girls in another, whilst he and his mother took up their abode in the new palace; and each in his own place was like a Sultan. So far concerning them; but as regards the King’s Treasurer, thinking to take something from the treasury, he went in and found it altogether empty, even as saith the poet,
“’Twas as a hive of bees that greatly thrived;
But, when the bee swarm fled, ’twas clean unhived.”2
So he gave a great cry and fell down in a fit. When he came to himself, he left the door open and going in to King Shams al-Daulah, said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful,3 I have to inform thee that the treasury hath become empty during the night.” Quoth the King, ‘What hast thou done with my monies which were therein?” Quoth he, “By Allah, I have not done aught with them nor know I what is come of them! I visited the place yesterday and saw it full; but to day when I went in, I found it clean empty, albeit the doors were locked, the walls were unpierced4 and the bolts5 are unbroken; nor hath a thief entered it.” Asked the King, “Are the two pairs of saddle bags gone?” “Yes,” replied the Treasurer; whereupon the King’s reason flew from his head — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. he shall answer for this.
2 A pun upon “Khalíyah” (bee hive) and “Khaliyah” (empty). Khalíyah is properly a hive of bees with a honey-comb in the hollow of a tree-trunk, opposed to Kawwárah, hive made of clay or earth (Al–Hariri; Ass. of Tiflis). There are many other terms, for Arabs are curious about honey. Pilgrimage iii. 110.
3 Lane (iii. 237) supposes by this title that the author referred his tale to the days of the Caliphate. “Commander of the Faithful” was, I have said, the style adopted by Omar in order to avoid the clumsiness of “Caliph” (successor) of the Caliph (Abu Bakr) of the Apostle of Allah.
4 eastern thieves count four modes of housebreaking, (1)picking out burnt bricks; (2) cutting through unbaked bricks; (3) wetting a mud wall and (4) boring through a wooden wall (Vikram and the Vampire p. 172).
5 Arab. “Zabbat,” lit. a lizard (fem.) also a wooden lock, the only one used throughout Egypt. An illustration of its curious mechanism is given in Lane (M. E. Introduction)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Treasurer informed the King that all in the treasury had been plundered, including the two pairs of saddlebags, the King’s reason flew from his head and he rose to his feet, saying, “Go thou before me.” Then he followed the Treasurer to the treasury and he found nothing there, whereat he was wroth with him; and he said to them, “O soldiers! know that my treasury hath been plundered during the night, and I know not who did this deed and dared thus to outrage me, without fear of me.” Said they, “How so?”; and he replied, “Ask the Treasurer.” So they questioned him, and he answered, saying, “Yesterday I visited the treasury and it was full, but this morning when I entered it I found it empty, though the walls were unpierced and the doors unbroken.” They all marvelled at this and could make the King no answer, when in came the Janissary, who had denounced Sálim and Salím, and said to Shams al-Daulah, “O King of the age, all this night I have not slept for that which I saw.” And the King asked, “And what didst thou see?” “Know, O King of the age,” answered the Kawwás, “that all night long I have been amusing myself with watching builders at work; and, when it was day, I saw a palace ready edified, whose like is not in the world. So I asked about it and was told that Judar had come back with great wealth and Mamelukes and slaves and that he had freed his two brothers from prison, and built this palace, wherein he is as a Sultan.” Quoth the King, “Go, look in the prison.” So they went thither and not finding Sálim and Salím, returned and told the King, who said, “It is plain now who be the thief; he who took Sálim and Salím out of prison it is who hath stolen my monies.” Quoth the Wazir, “O my lord, and who is he?”; and quoth the King, “Their brother Judar, and he hath taken the two pairs of saddle bags; but, O Wazir do thou send him an Emir with fifty men to seal up his goods and lay hands on him and his brothers and bring them to me, that I may hang them.” And he was sore enraged and said, “Ho, off with the Emir at once, and fetch them, that I may put them to death.” But the Wazir said to him, “Be thou merciful, for Allah is merciful and hasteth not to punish His servants, whenas they sin against Him. More over, he who can build a palace in a single night, as these say, none in the world can vie with him; and verily I fear lest the Emir fall into difficulty for Judar. Have patience, therefore, whilst I devise for thee some device of getting at the truth of the case, and so shalt thou win thy wish, O King of the age.” Quoth the King, “Counsel me how I shall do, O Wazir.” And the Minister said, “Send him an Emir with an invitation; and I will make much of him for thee and make a show of love for him and ask him of his estate; after which we will see. If we find him stout of heart, we will use sleight with him, and if weak of will, then do thou seize him and do with him thy desire.” The King agreed to this and despatched one of his Emirs, Othman hight, to go and invite Judar and say to him, “The King biddeth thee to a banquet;” and the King said to him, “Return not, except with him.” Now this Othman was a fool, proud and conceited; so he went forth upon his errand, and when he came to the gate of Judar’s palace, he saw before the door an eunuch seated upon a chair of gold, who at his approach rose not, but sat as if none came near, though there were with the Emir fifty footmen. Now this eunuch was none other than Al–Ra’ad al-Kasif, the servant of the ring, whom Judar had commanded to put on the guise of an eunuch and sit at the palace gate. So the Emir rode up to him and asked him, ‘ O slave, where is thy lord?”; whereto he answered, “In the palace;” but he stirred not from his leaning posture; whereupon the Emir Othman waxed wroth and said to him, ‘O pestilent slave, art thou not ashamed, when I speak to thee, to answer me, sprawling at thy length, like a gallows bird?” Replied the eunuch “Off and multiply not words.” Hardly had Othman heard this, when he was filled with rage and drawing his mace1 would have smitten the eunuch, knowing not that he was a devil; but Al–Ra’ad leapt upon him and taking the mace from him, dealt him four blows with it. Now when the fifty men saw their lord beaten, it was grievous to them; so they drew their swords and ran to slay the slave; but he said, “Do ye draw on us, O dogs?” and rose at them with the mace, and every one whom he smote, he broke his bones and drowned him in his blood. So they fell back before him and fled, whilst he followed them, beating them, till he had driven them far from the palace gate; after which he returned and sat down on his chair at the door, caring for none. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Dabbús.” The Eastern mace is well known to English collectors, it is always of metal, and mostly of steel, with a short handle like our facetiously called “life-preterver ” The head is in various forms, the simplest a ball, smooth and round, or broken into sundry high and angular ridges like a melon, and in select weapons shaped like the head of some animal. bull, etc. See Night dcxlvi.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the eunuch having put to flight the Emir Othman, the King’s officer, and his men, till they were driven far from Judar’s gate, returned and sat down on his chair at the door, caring for none. But as for the Emir and his company, they returned, discomfited and funded, to King Shams al-Daulah, and Othman said, “O King of the age, when I came to the palace gate, I espied an eunuch seated there in a chair of gold and he was passing proud for, when he saw me approach, he stretched himself at full length albeit he had been sitting in his chair and entreated me contumeliously, neither offered to rise to me. So I began to speak to him and he answered without stirring, whereat wrath get hold of me and I drew the mace upon him, thinking to smite him. But he snatched it from me and beat me and my men therewith and overthrew us. So we fled from before him and could not prevail against him.” At this, the King was wroth and said, “Let an hundred men go down to him.” Accordingly, the hundred men went down to attack him; but he arose and fell upon them with the mace and ceased not smiting them till he had put them to the rout; when he regained his chair; upon which they returned to the King and told him what had passed, saying, “O King of the age, he beat us and we fled for fear of him.” Then the King sent two hundred men against him, but these also he put to the rout, and Shams Al–Daulah said to his Minister, “I charge thee, O Wazir, take five hundred men and bring this eunuch in haste, and with him his master Judar and his brothers.” Replied the Wazir, “O King of the age, I need no soldiers, but will go down to him alone and unarmed.” “Go,” quoth the King, “and do as thou seest suitable.” So the Wazir laid down his arms and donning a white habit,1 took a rosary in his hand and set out afoot alone and unattended. When he came to Judar’s gate, he saw the slave sitting there; so he went up to him and seating himself by his side courteously, said to him, “Peace be with thee!”; whereto he replied, “And on thee be peace, O mortal! What wilt thou?” When the Wazir heard him say “O mortal,” he knew him to be of the Jinn and quaked for fear; then he asked him, “O my lord, tell me, is thy master Judar here?” Answered the eunuch, “Yes, he is in the palace.” Quoth the Minister, “O my lord, go thou to him and say to him, ‘King Shams Al–Daulah saluteth thee and biddeth thee honour his dwelling with thy presence and eat of a banquet he hath made for thee;’” Quoth the eunuch, “Tarry thou here, whilst I consult him. So the Wazir stood in a respectful attitude, whilst the Marid went up to the palace and said to Judar, “Know, O my lord, that the King sent to thee an Emir and fifty men, and I beat them and drove them away. Then he sent an hundred men and I beat them also; then two hundred, and these also I put to the rout. And now he hath sent thee his Wazir unarmed, bidding thee visit him and eat of his banquet. What sayst thou?” Said Judar, “Go, bring the Wazir hither.” So the Marid went down and said to him, “O Wazir, come speak with my lord.” “On my head be it.”, replied he and going in to Judar, found him seated, in greater state than the King, upon a carpet, whose like the King could not spread, and was dazed and amazed at the goodliness of the palace and its decoration and appointments, which made him seem as he were a beggar in comparison. So he kissed the ground before Judar and called down blessings on him; and Judar said to him, “What is thy business, O Wazir?” Replied he, “O my lord, thy friend King Shams Al–Daulah saluteth thee with the salaam and longeth to look upon thy face; wherefore he hath made thee an entertainment. So say, wilt thou heal his heart and eat of his banquet?” Quoth Judar, “If he be indeed my friend, salute him and bid him come to me.” “On my head be it,” quoth the Minister. Then Judar bringing out the ring rubbed it and bade the Jinni fetch him a dress of the best, which he gave to the Wazir saying, “Don this dress and go tell the King what I say.” So the Wazir donned the dress, the like whereof he had never donned, and returning to the King told him what had passed and praised the palace and that which was therein, saying, “Judar biddeth thee to him.” So the King called out, “Up, ye men; mount your horses and bring me my steed, that we may go to Judar!” Then he and his suite rode off for the Cairene palace. Meanwhile Judar summoned the Marid and said to him, “It is my will that thou bring me some of the Ifrits at thy command in the guise of guards and station them in the open square before the palace, that the King may see them and be awed by them; so shall his heart tremble and he shall know that my power and majesty be greater than his.” Thereupon Al–Ra’ad brought him two hundred Ifrits of great stature and strength, in the guise of guards, magnificently armed and equipped, and when the King came and saw these tall burly fellows his heart feared them. Then he entered the palace, and found Judar sitting in such state as nor King nor Sultan could even. So he saluted him and made his obeisance to him, yet Judar rose not to him nor did him honour nor said “Be seated,” but left him standing — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The red habit is a sign of wrath and vengeance and the Persian Kings like Fath Al Shah, used to wear it when about to order some horrid punishment, such as the “Shakk”; in this a man was hung up by his heels and cut in two from the fork downwards to the neck, when a turn of the chopper left that untouched. White robes denoted peace and mercy as well as joy. The “white” hand and “black” hand have been explained. A “white death” is quiet and natural, with forgiveness of sins. A “black death” is violent and dreadful, as by strangulation; a “green death” is robing in rags and patches like a dervish, and a “red death” is by war or bloodshed (A. P. ii. 670). Among the mystics it is the resistance of man to his passions.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King entered, Judar rose not to him, nor did him honour nor even said “Be seated!”; but left him standing,1 so that fear entered into him and he could neither sit nor go away and said to himself, “If he feared me, he would not leave me thus unheeded peradventure he will do me a mischief, because of that which I did with his brothers.” Then said Judar, “O King of the age, it beseemeth not the like of thee to wrong the folk and take away their good.” Replied the King, “O my lord, deign excuse me, for greed impelled me to this and fate was thereby fulfilled; and, were there no offending, there would be no forgiving.” And he went on to excuse himself for the past and pray to him for pardon and indulgence till he recited amongst other things this poetry,
“O thou of generous seed and true nobility,
Reproach me not for that which came from me to thee
We pardon thee if thou have wrought us any wrong
And if I wrought the wrong I pray thee pardon me!”
And he ceased not to humble himself before him, till he said, “Allah pardon thee!” and bade him be seated. So he sat down and Judar invested him with garments of pardon and immunity and ordered his brothers spread the table. When they had eaten, he clad the whole of the King’s company in robes of honour and gave them largesse; after which he bade the King depart. So he went forth and thereafter came every day to visit Judar and held not his Divan save in his house: wherefore friendship and familiarity waxed great between them, and they abode thus awhile, till one day the King, being alone with his Minister, said to him, “O Wazir, I fear lest Judar slay me and take the kingdom away from me.” Replied the Wazir, “O King of the age, as for his taking the kingdom from thee, have no fear of that, for Judar’s present estate is greater than that of the King, and to take the kingdom would be a lowering of his dignity; but, if thou fear that he kill thee, thou hast a daughter: give her to him to wife and thou and he will be of one condition.” Quoth the King, “O Wazir, be thou intermediary between us and him”; and quoth the Minister, “Do thou invite him to an entertainment and pass the night with him in one of thy saloons. Then bid thy daughter don her richest dress and ornaments and pass by the door of the saloon. When he seeth her, he will assuredly fall in love with her, and when we know this, I will turn to him and tell him that she is thy daughter and engage him in converse and lead him on, so that thou shalt seem to know nothing of the matter, till he ask her to thee to wife. When thou hast married him to the Princess, thou and he will be as one thing and thou wilt be safe from him; and if he die, thou wilt inherit all he hath, both great and small.” Replied the King, “Thou sayst sooth, O my Wazir,” and made a banquet and invited thereto Judar who came to the Sultan’s palace and they sat in the saloon in great good cheer till the end of the day. Now the King had commanded his wife to array the maiden in her richest raiment and ornaments and carry her by the door of the saloon. She did as he told her, and when Judar saw the Princess, who had not her match for beauty and grace, he looked fixedly at her and said, “Ah!”; and his limbs were loosened; for love and longing and passion and pine were sore upon him; desire and transport get hold upon him and he turned pale. Quoth the Wazir, “May no harm befall thee, O my lord! Why do I see thee change colour and in suffering?” Asked Judar, “O Wazir, whose daughter is this damsel? Verily she hath enthralled me and ravished my reason.” Replied the Wazir, “She is the daughter of thy friend the King; and if she please thee, I will speak to him that he marry thee to her.” Quoth Judar, “Do so, O Wazir, and as I live, I will bestow on thee what thou wilt and will give the King whatsoever he shall ask to her dowry; and we will become friends and kinsfolk.” Quoth the Minister, “It shall go hard but thy desire be accomplished.” Then he turned to the King and said in his ear, “O King of the age, thy friend Judar seeketh alliance with thee and will have me ask of thee for him the hand of thy daughter, the Princess Asiyah; so disappoint me not. but accept my intercession, and what dowry soever thou askest he will give thee.” Said the King, “The dowry I have already received, and as for the girl, she is his handmaid; I give her to him to wife and he will do me honour by accepting her.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This in the East is the way “pour se faire valoir”; whilst Europeans would hold it a mere “bit of impudence.” aping dignity.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir whispered the King, “Judar seeketh alliance with thee by taking thy daughter to wife,” the other replied, “The dowry I have already received, and the girl is his handmaid: he will do me honour by accepting her.” So they spent the rest of that night together and on the morrow the King held a court, to which he summoned great and small, together with the Shaykh al-Islam.1 Then Judar demanded the Princess in marriage and the King said, “The dowry I have received.” Thereupon they drew up the marriage contract and Judar sent for the saddle bags containing the jewels and gave them to the King as settlement upon his daughter. The drums beat and the pipes sounded and they held high festival, whilst Judar went in unto the girl. Thenceforward he and the King were as one flesh and they abode thus for many days, till Shams al-Daulah died; whereupon the troops proclaimed Judar Sultan, and he refused; but they importuned him, till he consented and they made him King in his father in law’s stead. Then he bade build a cathedral mosque over the late King’s tomb in the Bundukániyah2 quarter and endowed it. Now the quarter of Judar’s house was called Yamániyah; but, when he became Sultan he built therein a congregational mosque and other buildings, wherefore the quarter was named after him and was called the Judariyah3 quarter. Moreover, he made his brother Sálim his Wazir of the right and his brother Salím his Wazir of the left hand; and thus they abode a year and no more; for, at the end of that time, Sálim said to Salím, “O my brother, how long is this state to last? Shall we pass our whole lives in slavery to our brother Judar? We shall never enjoy luck or lordship whilst he lives,” adding, “so how shall we do to kill him and take the ring and the saddle bags?” Replied Salím, “Thou art craftier than I; do thou devise, whereby we may kill him.” “If I effect this,” asked Sálim, “wilt thou agree that I be Sultan and keep the ring and that thou be my right hand Wazir and have the saddle bags?” Salím answered, “I consent to this;” and they agreed to slay Judar their brother for love of the world and of dominion. So they laid a snare for Judar and said to him, “O our brother, verily we have a mind to glory in thee and would fain have thee enter our houses and eat of our entertainment and solace our hearts.” Replied Judar, “So be it, in whose house shall the banquet be?” “In mine,” said Sálim “and after thou hast eaten of my victual, thou shalt be the guest of my brother.” Said Judar, “ ’Tis well,” and went with him to his house, where he set before him poisoned food, of which when he had eaten, his flesh rotted from his bones and he died.4 Then Sálim came up to him and would have drawn the ring from his finger, but it resisted him; so he cut off the finger with a knife. Then he rubbed the ring and the Marid presented himself, saying, “Adsum! Ask what thou wilt.” Quoth Sálim, “Take my brother Salím and put him to death and carry forth the two bodies, the poisoned and the slaughtered, and cast them down before the troops.” So the Marid took Salím and slew him; then, carrying the two corpses forth, he cast them down before the chief officers of the army, who were sitting at table in the parlour of the house. When they saw Judar and Salím slain, they raised their hands from the food and fear get hold of them and they said to the Marid, “Who hath dealt thus with the Sultan and the Wazir Replied the Jinni, “Their brother Sálim.” And behold, Sálim came up to them and said, “O soldiers, eat and make merry, for Judar is dead and I have taken to me the seal ring, whereof the Marid before you is the servant; and I bade him slay my brother Salím lest he dispute the kingdom with me, for he was a traitor and I feared lest he should betray me. So now I am become Sultan over you; will ye accept of me? If not, I will rub the ring and bid the Marid slay you all, great and small.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Chief Mufti or Doctor of the Law, an appointment first made by the Osmanli Mohammed II., when he captured Constantinople in A.D. 1453. Before that time the functions were discharged by the Kázi al-Kuzat (Kazi-in-Chief), the Chancellor.
2 So called because here lived the makers of crossbows (Arab. Bunduk now meaning a fire piece, musket, etc.). It is the modern district about the well-known Khan al-Hamzawi.
3 Pronounced “Goodareeyyah,” and so called after one of the troops of the Fatimite Caliphs. The name “Yamániyah” is probably due to the story-teller’s inventiveness.
4 I have noted that as a rule in The Nights poetical justice is administered with much rigour and exactitude. Here, however, the tale-teller allows the good brother to be slain by the two wicked brothers as he permitted the adulterous queens to escape the sword of Kamar al-Zaman. Dr. Steingass brings to my notice that I have failed to do justice to the story of Sharrkán (vol. ii., p. 172), where I note that the interest is injured by the gratuitous incest But this has a deeper meaning and a grander artistic effect. Sharrkán begins with most unbrotherly feelings towards his father’s children by a second wife. But Allah’s decree forces him to love his half-sister despite himself, and awe and repentance convert the savage, who joys at the news of his brother’s reported death, to a loyal and devoted subject of the same brother. But Judar with all his goodness proved himself an arrant softy and was no match for two atrocious villains. And there may be overmuch of forgiveness as of every other good thing.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sálim said to the officers, “Will ye accept me as your Sultan, otherwise I will rub the ring and the Marid shall slay you all, great and small?”; they replied, “We accept thee to King and Sultan.” Then he bade bury his brothers and summoned the Divan; and some of the folk followed the funeral, whilst others forewent him in state procession to the audience hall of the palace, where he sat down on the throne and they did homage to him as King; after which he said, “It is my will to marry my brother Judar’s wife.” Quoth they, “Wait till the days of widowhood are accomplished.1 Quoth he, “I know not days of widowhood nor aught else. As my head liveth, I needs must go in unto her this very night.” So they drew up the marriage contract and sent to tell the Princess Asiyah, who replied, “Bid him enter.” Accordingly, he went in to her and she received him with a show of joy and welcome; but by and by she gave him poison in water and made an end of him. Then she took the ring and broke it, that none might possess it thenceforward, and tore up the saddle bags; after which she sent to the Shaykh al-Islam and other great officers of state, telling them what had passed and saying to them, “Choose you out a King to rule over you.” And this is all that hath come down to us of the Story of Judar and his Brethren.2 But I have also heard, O King, a tale called the
1 In such case the “‘iddah” would be four months and ten days.
2 Not quite true. Weil’s German version, from a Ms. in the Ducal Library of Gotha gives the “Story of Judar of Cairo and Mahmud of Tunis” in a very different form. It has been pleasantly “translated (from the German) and edited” by Mr. W. F. Kirby, of the British Museum, under the title of “The New Arabian Nights” (London: W. Swan Sonnenschein & Co.), and the author kindly sent me a copy. “New Arabian Nights” seems now to have become a fashionable title applied without any signification: such at least is the pleasant collection of Nineteenth Century Novelettes, published under that designation by Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson, Chatto and Windus, Piccadilly, 1884.
There was once in olden time a King of might, Kundamir hight, who had been a brave and doughty man of war, a Kahramán,2 in his day, but was grown passing old and decrepit. Now it pleased Allah to vouchsafe him, in his extreme senility, a son, whom he named Ajíb3 — the Wonderful — because of his beauty and loveliness; so he committed the babe to the midwives and wet-nurses and handmaids and serving-women, and they reared him till he was full seven years old, when his father gave him in charge to a divine of his own folk and faith. The priest taught him the laws and tenets of their Misbelief and instructed him in philosophy and all manner of other knowledge, and it needed but three full told years ere he was proficient therein and his spirit waxed resolute and his judgment mature; and he became learned, eloquent and philosophic4; consorting with the wise and disputing with the doctors of the law. When his father saw this of him, it pleased him and he taught him to back the steed and stab with spear and smite with sword, till he grew to be an accomplished cavalier, versed in all martial exercises; and, by the end of his twentieth year, he surpassed in all things all the folk of his day. But his skill in weapons made him grow up a stubborn tyrant and a devil arrogant, using to ride forth a-hunting and a-chasing amongst a thousand horsemen and to make raids and razzias upon the neighbouring knights, cutting off caravans and carrying away the daughters of Kings and nobles; wherefore many brought complaints against him to his father, who cried out to five of his slaves and when they came said, “Seize this dog!” So they seized Prince Ajib and, pinioning his hands behind him, beat him by his father’s command till he lost his senses; after which the King imprisoned him in a chamber so dark one might not know heaven from earth or length from breadth; and there he abode two days and a night. Then the Emirs went in to the King and, kissing the ground between his hands, interceded with him for the Prince, and he released him. So Ajib bore with his father for ten days, at the end of which he went in to him as he slept by night and smote his neck. When the day rose, he mounted the throne of his sire’s estate and bade his men arm themselves cap-à-pie in steel and stand with drawn swords in front of him and on his right hand and on his left. By and by, the Emirs and Captains entered and finding their King slain and his son Ajib seated on the throne were confounded in mind and knew not what to do. But Ajib said to them, “O folk, verily ye see what your King hath gained. Whoso obeyeth me, I will honour him, and whoso gainsayeth me I will do with him that which I did with my sire.” When they heard these words they feared lest he do them a mischief; so they replied, “Thou art our King and the son of our King;” and kissed ground before him; whereupon he thanked them and rejoiced in them. Then he bade bring forth money and apparel and clad them in sumptuous robes of honour and showered largesse upon them, wherefore they all loved him and obeyed him. In like manner he honoured the governors of the Provinces and the Shaykhs of the Badawin, both tributary and independent, so that the whole kingdom submitted to him and the folk obeyed him and he reigned and bade and forbade in peace and quiet for a time of five months. One Night, however, he dreamed a dream as he lay slumbering; whereupon he awoke trembling, nor did sleep visit him again till the morning. As soon as it was dawn he mounted his throne and his officers stood before him, right and left. Then he called the oneiromants and the astrologers and said to them “Expound to me my dream!” “What was the dream?” asked they; and he answered, “As I slept last Night, I saw my father standing before me, with his yard uncovered, and there came forth of it a thing the bigness of a bee, which grew till it became as a mighty lion, with claws like hangers. As I lay wondering at this lo! it ran upon me and smiting me with its claws, rent my belly in sunder; whereupon I awoke startled and trembling. So expound ye to me the meaning of this dream.” The interpreters looked one at other; and, after considering, said, “O mighty King, this dream pointeth to one born of thy sire, between whom and thee shall befal strife and enmity, wherein he shall get the better of thee: so be on thy guard against him, by reason of this thy vision.” When Ajib heard their words, he said, “I have no brother whom I should fear; so this your speech is mere lying.” They replied, “We tell thee naught save what we know;” but he was an angered with them and bastinadoed them. Then he rose and, going in to the paternal palace, examined his father’s concubines and found one of them seven months gone with child; whereupon he gave an order to two of his slaves, saying, “Take this damsel, ye twain, and carry her to the sea-shore and drown her.” So they took her forthright and, going to the sea-shore, designed to drown her, when they looked at her and seeing her to be of singular beauty and loveliness said to each other, “Why should we drown this damsel? Let us rather carry her to the forest and live with her there in rare love-liasse.” Then they took her and fared on with her days and nights till they had borne her afar off and had brought her to a bushy forest, abounding in fruit-trees and streams, where they both thought at the same time to win their will of her; but each said, “I will have her first.” So they fell out one with the other concerning this, and while so doing a company of blackamoors came down upon them, and they drew their swords and both sides fell to laying on load. The mellay waxed hot with cut and thrust; and the two slaves fought their best; but the blacks slew them both in less than the twinkling of an eye. So the damsel abode alone and wandered about the forest, eating of its fruits and drinking of its founts, till in due time she gave birth to a boy, brown but clean limbed and comely, whom she named Gharíb, the Stranger, by reason of her strangerhood. Then she cut his navel-string and wrapping him in some of her own clothes, gave him to suck, harrowed at heart, and with vitals sorrowing for the estate she had lost and its honour and solace. And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 Von Hammer holds this story to be a satire on Arab superstition and the compulsory propagation, the compelle intrare, of Al–Islam. Lane (iii. 235) omits it altogether for reasons of his own. I differ with great diffidence from the learned Baron whose Oriental reading was extensive; but the tale does not seem to justify his explanations. It appears to me simply one of the wilder romances, full of purposeful anachronisms (e.g. dated between Abraham and Moses, yet quoting the Koran) and written by someone familiar with the history of Oman. The style too is peculiar, in many places so abrupt that much manipulation is required to make it presentable: it suits, however, the rollicking, violent brigand-like life which it depicts. There is only one incident about the end which justifies Von Hammer’s suspicion.
2 The Persian hero of romance who converses with the Simurgh or Griffin.
3 ‘The word is as much used in Egypt as wunderbar in Germany. As an exclamation is equivalent to “mighty fine!”
4 In modern days used in a bad sense, as a freethinker, etc. So Dalilah the Wily is noted to be a philosopheress.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel abode in the bush harrowed at heart and a-sorrowed; but she suckled her babe albeit she was full of grief and fear for her loneliness. Now behold, one day, there came horsemen and footmen into the forest with hawks and hounds and horses laden with partridges and cranes and wild geese and divers and other waterfowl; and young ostriches and hares and gazelles and wild oxen and lynxes and wolves and lions.1 Presently, these Arabs entered the thicket and came upon the damsel, sitting with her child on her breast a-suckling him: so they drew near and asked her, “Say art thou a mortal or a Jinniyah?” Answered she, “I am a mortal, O Chiefs of the Arabs.” Thereupon they told their Emir, whose name was Mardás, Prince of the Banú Kahtán,2 and who had come forth that day to hunt with five hundred of his cousins and the nobles of his tribe, and who in the course of the chase had happened upon her. He bade them bring her before him, which they did and she related to him her past from first to last, whereat he marvelled. Then he cried to his kinsmen and escort to continue the chase, after which they took her and returned to their encampment, where the Emir appointed her a separate dwelling-place and five damsels to serve her; and he loved her with exceeding love and went in to her and lay with her. She conceived by him straightway, and, when her months were accomplished, she bare a man child and named him Sahím al-Layl.3 He grew up with his brother Gharib among the nurses and throve and waxed upon the lap of the Emir Mardas who, in due time committed the two boys to a Fakih for instruction in the things of their faith; after which he gave them in charge to valiant knights of the Arabs, for training them to smite with sword and lunge with lance and shoot with shaft; so by the time they reached the age of fifteen, they knew all they needed and surpassed each and every brave of their tribe; for Gharib would undertake a thousand horse and Sahim al-Layl no fewer. Now Mardas had many enemies, and the men of his tribe were the bravest of all the Arabs, being doughty cavaliers, none might warm himself at their fire.4 In his neighbourhood was an Emir of the Arabs, Hassan bin Sábit hight, who was his intimate friend; and he took to wife a noble lady of his tribe and bade all his friends to the wedding, amongst them Mardas lord of the Banu Kahtan, who accepted his invitation and set forth with three hundred riders of his tribe, leaving other four hundred to guard the women. Hassan met him with honour and seated him in the highest stead. Then came all the cavaliers to the bridal and he made them bride-feasts and held high festival by reason of the marriage, after which the Arabs departed to their dwelling- places. When Mardas came in sight of his camp, he saw slain men lying about and birds hovering over them right and left; and his heart sank within him at the sight. Then he entered the camp and was met by Gharib, clad in complete suit of ring-mail, who gave him joy of his safe return. Quoth Mardas, “What meaneth this case, O Gharib?”; and quoth Gharib, “Al–Hamal bin Májid attacked us with five hundred horsemen of his tribe.” Now the reason of this was that the Emir Mardas had a daughter called Mahdíyah, seer never saw fairer than she, and Al–Hamal, lord of the Banu Nabhán,5 heard of her charms; whereupon he took horse with five hundred of his men and rode to Mardas to demand her hand; but he was not accepted and was sent away disappointed.6 So he awaited till Mardas was absent on his visit to Hassan, when he mounted with his champions and, falling upon the camp of the Banu Kahtan, slew a number of their knights and the rest fled to the mountains. Now Gharib and his brother had ridden forth a-hunting and chasing with an hundred horse and returned not till midday, when they found that Al–Hamal had seized the camp and all therein and had carried off the maidens, among whom was Mahdiyah, driving her away with the captives. When Gharib saw this, he lost his wits for rage and cried out to Sahim, saying, “O my brother, O son of an accursed dam,7 they have plundered our camp and carried off our women and children! Up and at the enemy, that we may deliver the captives!” So Gharib and Sahim and their hundred horse rushed upon the foe, and Gharib’s wrath redoubled, and he reaped a harvest of heads slain, giving the champions death-cup to drain, till he won to Al–Hamal and saw Mahdiyah among the captives. Then he drave at the lord of the Banu Nabhan braves; with his lance lunged him and from his destrier hurled him; nor was the time of mid-afternoon prayer come before he had slain the most part of the foe and put to rout the rest and rescued the captives; whereupon he returned to the camp in triumph, bearing the head of Al–Hamal on the point of his lance and improvising these couplets,
“I am he who is known on the day of fight,
And the Jinn of earth at my shade take fright:
And a sword have I when my right hand wields,
Death hastens from left on mankind to alight;
I have eke a lance and who look thereon
See a crescent head of the liveliest light.8
And Gharib I’m hight of my tribe the brave
And if few my men I feel naught affright.”
Hardly had Gharib made an end of these verses when up came Mardas who, seeing the slain and the vultures, was sore troubled and with fluttering heart asked the cause. The youth, after due greetings, related all that had befallen the tribe in his step- sire’s absence. So Mardas thanked him and said, “Thou hast well requited our fosterage-pains in rearing thee, O Gharib!”; then he alighted and entered his pavilion, and the men stood about him, all the tribe praising Gharib and saying, “O our Emir, but for Gharib, not one of the tribe had been saved!” And Mardas again thanked him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 The game is much mixed up after Arab fashion. The “Tufat” is the Siyáhgosh= Black-ears, of India (Felis caracal), the Persian lynx, which gives very good sport with Dachshunds. Lynxes still abound in the thickets near Cairo
2 The “Sons of Kahtán,” especially the Ya’arubah tribe, made much history in Oman. Ya’arub (the eponymus) is written Ya’arab and Ya’arib; but Ya’arub (from Ya’arubu Aorist of ‘Aruba) is best, because according to all authorities he was the first to cultivate primitive Arabian speech and Arabic poetry. (Caussin de Perceval’s Hist. des Arabes i.50, etc.)
3 He who shooteth an arrow by night. See the death of Antar shot down in the dark by the archer Jazár, son of Jábír, who had been blinded by a red hot sabre passed before his eyes. I may note that it is a mere fiction of Al–Asma’i, as the real ‘Antar (or ‘Antarah) lived to a good old age, and probably died the “straw death.”
4 See vol. ii., p. 77, for a reminiscence of masterful King Kulayb and his Himá or domain. Here the phrase would mean, “None could approach them when they were wroth; none were safe from their rage.”
5 The sons of Nabhán (whom Mr. Badger calls Nebhán) supplied the old Maliks or Kings of Oman. (History of the Imams and Sayyids of Oman, etc., London, Hakluyt Soc. 1871.)
6 This is a sore insult in Arabia, where they have not dreamt of a “Jawab-club,” like that of Calcutta in the old days, to which only men who had been half a dozen times “jawab’d” (= refused in Anglo-lndian jargon) could belong. “I am not a stallion to be struck on the nose,” say the Arabs.
7 Again “inverted speech”: it is as if we said, “Now, you’re a damned fine fellow, so,” etc. “Allah curse thee! Thou hast guarded thy women alive and dead;” said the man of Sulaym in admiration after thrusting his spear into the eye of dead Rabi’ah.
8 The Badawi use javelins or throw-spears of many kinds, especially the prettily worked Mizrák (Pilgrimage i. 349); spears for footmen (Shalfah, a bamboo or palm-stick with a head about a hand broad), and the knightly lance, a male bamboo some 12 feet long with iron heel and a long tapering point often of open work or damascened steel, under which are tufts of black ostrich feathers, one or two. I never saw a crescent-shaped head as the text suggests. It is a “Pundonor” not to sell these weapons: you say, “Give me that article and I will satisfy thee!” After which the Sons of the Sand will haggle over each copper as if you were cheapening a sheep. (Ibid. iii. 73.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Mardas, hearing the tribesmen’s praises of Gharib, again thanked him for his derring-do. But the youth, when he had delivered Mahdiyah from Al–Hamal whom he slew, was smitten by the shaft of her glances and fell into the nets of her allurements, wherefore his heart could not forget her and he became drowned in love and longing and the sweets of sleep forsook him and he had no joy of drink or meat. He would spur his horse up to the mountain tops, where he would spend the day in composing verses and return at nightfall; and indeed manifest upon him were the signs of affection and distraction. He discovered his secret to one of his companions and it became noised abroad in the camp, till it reached the ears of Mardas, who thundered and lightened and rose up and sat down and sparked and snorted and reviled the sun and the moon, saying, “This is the reward of him who reareth the sons of adultery! But except I kill Gharib, I shall be put to shame.’’1 Then he consulted one of the wise men of his tribe and after telling his secret took counsel with him of killing the youth. Quoth the elder, “O Emir, ’twas but yesterday that he freed thy daughter from captivity. If there be no help for it but thou must slay him, let it be by the hand of another than thyself, so none of the folk may misdoubt of thee.” Quoth Mardas, “Advise me how I may do him die, for I look to none but to thee for his death.” “O Emir,” answered the other, “wait till he go forth to hunt and chase, when do thou take an hundred horse and lie in wait for him in some cave till he pass; then fall upon him unawares and cut him in pieces, so shalt thou be quit of his reproach.” Said Mardas, “This should serve me well;” and chose out an hundred and fifty of his furious knights and Amalekites2 whom he lessoned to his will. Then he watched Gharib till one day, he went forth to hunt and rode far away amongst the dells and hills; whereupon Mardas followed him with his men, ill-omened wights, and lay in wait for him by the way against he should return from the chase that they might sally forth and slay him. But as they lay in ambush among the trees behold, there fell upon them five hundred true Amalekites, who slew sixty of them and made fourscore and ten prisoners and trussed up Mardas with his arms behind his back. Now the reason of this was that when Gharib put Al–Hamal and his men to the sword, the rest fled and ceased not flying till they reached their lord’s brother and told him what had happened, whereat his Doom-day rose and he gathered together his Amalekites and choosing out five hundred cavaliers, each fifty ells high,3 set out with them in quest of blood-revengement for his brother. By the way he fell in with Mardas and his companions and there happened between them what happened; after which he bade his men alight and rest, saying, “O folk, the idols have given us an easy brood-wreak; so guard ye Mardas and his tribesmen, till I carry them away and do them die with the foulest of deaths.” When Mardas saw himself a prisoner, he repented of what he had done and said, “This is the reward of rebelling against the Lord!” Then the enemy passed the night rejoicing in their victory, whilst Mardas and his men despaired of life and made sure of doom. So far concerning them; but as regards Sahim al-Layl, who had been wounded in the fight with Al-Hamal, he went in to his sister Mahdiyah, and she rose to him and kissed his hands, saying, “May thy two hands ne’er wither nor thine enemies have occasion to be blither! But for thee and Gharib, we had not escaped captivity among our foes. Know, however, O my brother, that thy father hath ridden forth with an hundred and fifty horse, purposing to slaughter Gharib; and thou wottest it would be sore loss and foul wrong to slay him, for that it was he who saved your shame and rescued your good.” When Sahim heard this, the light in his sight became Night, he donned his battle-harness; and, mounting steed, rode for the place where Gharib was a-hunting. He presently came up with him and found that he had taken great plenty of game; so he accosted him and saluted him and said, “O my brother, why didst thou go forth without telling me?” Replied Gharib, “By Allah, naught hindered me but that I saw thee wounded and thought to give thee rest.” Then said Sahim, “O my brother, beware of my sire!” and told him how Mardas was abroad with an hundred and fifty men, seeking to slay him. Quoth Gharib, “Allah shall cause his treason to cut his own throat.” Then the brothers set out campwards, but night overtook them by the way and they rode on in the darkness, till they drew near the Wady wherein the enemy lay and heard the neighing of steeds in the gloom; whereupon said Sahim, “O my brother, my father and his men are ambushed in yonder valley; let us flee from it.” But Gharib dismounted and throwing his bridle to his brother, said to him, “Stay in this stead till I come back to thee.” Then he went on till he drew in sight of the folk, when he saw that they were not of his tribe and heard them naming Mardas and saying, “We will not slay him, save in his own land.” Wherefore he knew that nuncle Mardas was their prisoner, and said, “By the life of Mahdiyah, I will not depart hence till I have delivered her father, that she may not be troubled!” Then he sought and ceased not seeking till he hit upon Mardas and found him bound with cords; so he sat down by his side and said to him, “Heaven deliver thee, O uncle, from these bonds and this shame!” When Mardas saw Gharib his reason fled, and he said to him, “O my son, I am under thy protection: so deliver me in right of my fosterage of thee!” Quoth Gharib, “If I deliver thee, wilt thou give me Mahdiyah?” Quoth the Emir, “O my son, by whatso I hold sacred, she is thine to all time!” So he loosed him, saying, “Make for the horses, for thy son Sahim is there:” and Mardas crept along like a snake till he came to his son, who rejoiced in him and congratulated him on his escape. Meanwhile, Gharib unbound one after another of the prisoners, till he had freed the whole ninety and they were all far from the foe. Then he sent them their weapons and war horses, saying to them, “Mount ye and scatter yourselves round about the enemy and cry out, Ho, sons of Kahtan! And when they awake, do ye remove from them and encircle them in a thin ring.’’4 So he waited till the last and third watch of the Night, when he cried out, “Ho, sons of Kahtan!” and his men answered in like guise, crying, “Ho, sons of Kahtan,” as with one voice; and the mountains echoed their slogan, so that it seemed to the raiders as though the whole tribe of Banu Kahtan were assailing them; wherefore they all snatched up their arms and fell upon one another — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 The shame was that Gharib had seen the girl and had fallen in love with her beauty instead of applying for her hand in recognised form. These punctilios of the Desert are peculiarly nice and tetchy; nor do strangers readily realise them.
2 The Arabs derive these Noachidæ from Imlik, great- grandson of Shem, who after the confusion of tongues settled at Sana’a, then moved North to Meccah and built the fifth Ka’abah. The dynastic name was Arkam, M. C. de Perceval’s “Arcam,” which he would identify with Rekem (Numbers xxxi. 8). The last Arkam fell before an army sent by Moses to purge the Holy Land (Al-Hijaz) of idolatry. Commentators on the Koran (chaps. vii.) call the Pharaoh of Moses Al–Walid and derive him from the Amalekites: we have lately ascertained that this Mene–Ptah was of the Shepherd–Kings and thus, according to the older Moslems, the Hyksos were of the seed of Imlik. (Pilgrimage ii. 116, and iii. 190.) In Syria they fought with Joshua son of Nun. The tribe or rather nationality was famous and powerful: we know little about it and I may safely predict that when the Amalekite country shall have been well explored, it will produce monuments second in importance only to the Hittites. “A nomadic tribe which occupied the Peninsula of Sinai” (Smith’s Dict. of the Bible) is peculiarly superficial, even for that most superficial of books.
3 The Amalekites were giants and lived 500 years. (Pilgrimage, loc. cit.)
4 His men being ninety against five hundred.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the raiders1 awoke from sleep and heard Gharib and his men crying out, “Ho, sons of Kahtan!”; they imagined that the whole tribe was assailing them; wherefore they snatched up their arms and fell one upon other with mighty slaughter. Gharib and his men held aloof, and they fought one another till daybreak, when Gharib and Mardas and their ninety warriors came down upon them and killed some of them and put the rest to flight. Then the Banu Kahtan took the horses of the fugitives and the weapons of the slain and returned to their tribal camp, whilst Mardas could hardly credit his deliverance from the foe. When they reached the encampment, the stay-at-home folk all came forth to meet them and rejoiced in their safe return. Then they alighted and betook them to their tents; and all the youths of the tribe flocked to Gharib’s stead and great and small saluted him and did him honour. But when Mardas saw this and the youths encircling his stepson he waxed more jealous of Gharib than before and said to his kinsfolk, “Verily, hatred of Gharib groweth on my heart, and what irketh me most is that I see these flocking about him! And to-morrow he will demand Mahdiyah of me.” Quoth his confidant, “O Emir, ask of him somewhat he cannot avail to do.” This pleased Mardas who passed a pleasant night and on the morrow, as he sat on his stuffed carpet, with the Arabs about him, Gharib entered, followed by his men and surrounded by the youth of the tribe, and kissed the ground before Mardas who, making a show of joy, rose to do him honour and seated him beside himself. Then said Gharib, “O uncle, thou madest me a promise; do thou fulfil it.” Replied the Emir, “O my son, she is thine to all time; but thou lackest wealth.” Quoth Gharib, “O uncle, ask of me what thou wilt, and I will fall upon the Emirs of the Arabs in their houses and on the Kings in their towns and bring thee fee2 enough to fence the land from East to West.” “O my son,” quoth Mardas,” I have sworn by all the Idols that I would not give Mabdiyah save to him who should take my blood-wite of mine enemy and do away my reproach.” “O uncle,” said Gharib, “tell me with which of the Kings thou hast a feud, that I may go to him and break his throne upon his pate.” “O my son,” replied Mardas, “I once had a son, a champion of champions, and he went forth one day to chase and hunt with an hundred horse. They fared on from valley to valley, till they had wandered far away amongst the mountains and came to the Wady of Blossoms and the Castle of Hám bin Shays bin Shaddád bin Khalad. Now in this place, O my son, dwelleth a black giant, seventy cubits high, who fights with trees from their roots uptorn; and when my son reached his Wady, the tyrant sallied out upon him and his men and slew them all, save three braves, who escaped and brought me the news. So I assembled my champions and fared forth to fight the giant, but could not prevail against him; wherefore I was baulked of my revenge and swore that I would not give my daughter in marriage save to him who should avenge me of my son.” Said Gharib, “O uncle, I will go to this Amalekite and take the wreak of thy son on him with the help of Almighty Allah.” And Mardas answered, saying, “O Gharib, if thou get the victory over him, thou wilt gain of him such booty of wealth and treasures as fires may not devour.” Cried Gharib, “Swear to me before witnesses thou wilt give me her to wife, so that with heart at ease I may go forth to find my fortune.” Accordingly, Mardas swore this to him and took the elders of the tribe to witness; whereupon Gharib fared forth, rejoicing in the attainment of his hopes, and went in to his mother, to whom he related what had passed. “O my son,” said she, “know that Mardas hateth thee and doth but send thee to this mountain, to bereave me of thee; then take me with thee and let us depart the tents of this tyrant.” But he answered, “O my mother, I will not depart hence till I win my wish and foil my foe.” Thereupon he slept till morning arose with its sheen and shone, and hardly had he mounted his charger when his friends, the young men, came up to him; two hundred stalwart knights armed cap-à-pie and cried out to him, saying, “Take us with thee; we will help thee and company thee by the way.” And he rejoiced in them and cried, “Allah requite you for us with good!” adding, “Come, my friends, let us go.” So they set out and fared on the first day and the second day till evening, when they halted at the foot of a towering mount and baited their horses. As for Gharib, he left the rest and walked on into that mountain, till he came to a cave whence issued a light. He entered and found, at the higher facing end of the cave a Shaykh, three hundred and forty years old, whose eyebrows overhung his eyes and whose moustachios hid his mouth. Gharib at this sight was filled with awe and veneration, and the hermit said to him, “Methinks thou art of the idolaters, O my son, stone-worshipping3 in the stead of the All-powerful King, the Creator of Night and Day and of the sphere rolling on her way.” When Gharib heard his words, his side muscles quivered and he said, “O Shaykh, where is this Lord of whom thou speakest, that I may worship him and take my fill of his sight?” Replied the Shaykh, “O my son, this is the Supreme Lord, upon whom none may look in this world. He seeth and is not seen. He is the Most High of aspect and is present everywhere in His works. He it is who maketh all the made and ordereth time to vade and fade; He is the Creator of men and Jinn and sendeth the Prophets to guide His creatures into the way of right. Whoso obeyeth Him, He bringeth into Heaven, and whoso gainsayeth Him, He casteth into Hell.” Asked Gharib, “And how, O uncle, saith whoso worshippeth this puissant Lord who over all hath power?” “O my son,” answered the Shaykh, “I am of the tribe of Ad, which were transgressors in the land and believed not in Allah. So He sent unto them a Prophet named Húd, but they called him liar and he destroyed them by means of a deadly wind; but I believed together with some of my tribe, and we were saved from destruction.4 Moreover, I was present with the tribe of Thamúd and saw what befel them with their Prophet Sálih. After Salih, the Al-mighty sent a prophet, called Abraham the Friend,5 to Nimrod son of Canaan, and there befel what befel between them. Then my companions died in the Saving Faith and I continued in this cave to serve Allah the Most High, who provideth my daily bread without my taking thought.” Quoth Gharib, “O uncle, what shall I say, that I may become of the troop of this mighty Lord?” “Say,” replied the old man, ‘There is no god but the God and Abraham is the Friend of God.’ “ So Gharib embraced the Faith of Submission6 with heart and tongue and the Shaykh said to him, “May the sweetness of belief and devotion be stablished in thy heart!” Then he taught him somewhat of the biblical ordinances and scriptures of Al–Islam and said to him, “What is thy name?”; and he replied, “My name is Gharib.” Asked the old man, “Whither art thou bound, O Gharib?” So he told him all his history, till he came to the mention of the Ghúl of the Mountain whom he sought — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 Arab. “Kaum” (pron. Gúm) here=a razzia, afterwards=a tribe. Relations between Badawi tribes are of three kinds; (1) Asháb, allies offensive and defensive, friends who intermarry; (2) Kímán (plur. of Kaum) when the blood-feud exists, and (3) Akhwan= brothers. The last is a complicated affair, “Akháwat” or brotherhood, denotes the tie between patron and client (a noble and an ignoble tribe) or between the stranger and the tribe which claims an immemorial and unalienable right to its own lands. Hence a small fee (Al–Rifkah) must be paid and the traveller and his beast become “dakhíl,” or entitled to brother-help. The guardian is known in the West as Rafík; Rabí‘a in Eastern Arabia; Ghafír in “Sinai;” amongst the Somal, Abbán and the Gallas Mogásá. Further details are given in Pilgrimage iii. 85–87.
2 Arab. “Mál,” here=Badawi money, flocks and herds, our “fee” from feoh, vieh, cattle; as pecunia from pecus, etc., etc.
3 The litholatry of the old Arabs is undisputed: Manát the goddess-idol was a large rude stone and when the Meccans sent out colonies these carried with them stones of the Holy Land to be set up and worshipped like the Ka’abah. I have suggested (Pilgrimage iii. 159) that the famous Black Stone of Meccah, which appears to me a large aerolite, is a remnant of this worship and that the tomb of Eve near Jeddah was the old “Sakhrah tawílah” or Long Stone (ibid. iii. 388). Jeddah is now translated the grandmother, alluding to Eve, a myth of late growth: it is properly Juddah=a plain lacking water.
4 The First Adites, I have said, did not all perish: a few believers retired with the prophet Hud (Heber?) to Hazramaut. The Second Adites, who had Márib of the Dam for capital and Lukman for king, were dispersed by the Flood of Al–Yaman. Their dynasty lasted a thousand years, the exodus taking place according to De Sacy in A.D. 150–170 or shortly after A.D. 100 (C. de Perceval), and was overthrown by Ya’arub bin Kahtán, the first Arabist; see Night dcxxv.
5 This title has been noticed: it suggests the “Saint Abraham” of our medaeval travellers. Every great prophet has his agnomen: Adam the Pure (or Elect) of Allah, Noah the Nájiy (or saved) of Allah; Moses (Kalím) the Speaker with Allah; Jesus the Rúh (Spirit breath) or Kalám (the word) of Allah. For Mohammed’s see Al–Busiri’s Mantle-poem vv. 31–58.
6 Koran (chaps. iii. 17), “Verily the true religion in the sight of Allah is Islam” i.e. resigning or devoting myself to the Lord, with a suspicion of “Salvation” conveyed by the root Salima, he was safe.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib became a Moslem and told the Shaykh his past, from first to last, till he came to the mention of the Mountain–Ghul whom he sought, the old man asked him, “O Gharib, art thou mad that thou goest forth against the Ghul of the Mountain single handed?”; and he answered, “O my lord, I have with me two hundred horse.” “O Gharib,” rejoined the hermit, “hadst thou ten thousand riders yet shouldest thou not prevail against him, for his name is The–Ghul- who-eateth-men-we-pray-Allah-for-safety, and he is of the children of Ham. His father’s name was Hindi who peopled Hind and named it, and he left this son after him, whom he called Sa’adan the Ghul. Now the same was, O my son, even in his sire’s lifetime, a cruel tyrant and a rebellious devil and had no other food than flesh of the sons of Adam. His father when about to die forbade him from this, but he would not be forbidden and he redoubled in his forwardness, till Hindi banished him and drove him forth the Land of Hind, after battles and sore travail. Then he came to this country and fortifying himself herein, established his home in this place, whence he is wont to sally forth and cut the road of all that come and go, presently returning to the valley he haunteth. Moreover, he hath begotten five sons, warlike warlocks, each one of whom will do battle with a thousand braves, and he hath flocked the valley with his booty of treasure and goods besides horses and camels and cattle and sheep. Wherefore I fear for thee from him; so do thou implore Almighty Allah to further thee against him by the Tahlíl, the formula of Unity, and when thou drivest at the Infidels, cry, ‘God is most Great!’ for, saying, ‘There is no god but the God’ confoundeth those who misbelieve.” Then the Shaykh gave him a steel mace, an hundred pounds in weight, with ten rings which clashed like thunder whenas the wielder brandished it, and a sword forged of a thunderbolt,1 three ells long and three spans broad, wherewith if one smote a rock, the stroke would cleave it in sunder. Moreover he gave him a hauberk and target and a book and said to him, “Return to thy tribe and expound unto them Al–Islam.” So Gharib left him, rejoicing in his new Faith, and fared till he found his companions, who met him with salams, saying, “What made thee tarry thus?” Whereupon he related to them that which had befallen him and expounded to them Al–Islam, and they all islamised. Early next morning, Gharib mounted and rode to the hermit to farewell him, after which he set out to return to his camp when behold, on his way, there met him a horseman cap-à-pie armed so that only his eyes appeared, who made at him, saying, “Doff what is on thee, O scum2 of the Arabs; or I will do thee die!” Therewith Gharib crave at him and there befel between them a battle such as would make a new-born child turn grey and melt the flinty rock with its sore affray; but presently the Badawi did off his face-veil, and lo! it was Gharib’s half-brother Sahim al-Layl. Now the cause of his coming thither was that when Gharib set out in quest of the Mountain–Ghul, Sahim was absent and on his return, not seeing his brother, he went in to his mother, whom he found weeping. He asked the reason of her tears and she told him what had happened of his brother’s journey, whereupon, without allowing himself aught of rest, he donned his war-gear and mounting rode after Gharib, till he overtook him and there befel between them what befel. When, therefore. Sahim discovered his face, Gharib knew him and saluted him, saying, “What moved thee to do this?” Quoth Sahim, “I had a mind to measure myself with thee in the field and make trial of my lustihood in cut and thrust.” Then they rode together and on the way Gharib expounded Al–Islam to Sahim, who embraced the Faith; nor did they cease riding till they were hard upon the valley. Meanwhile, the Mountain–Ghul espied the dust of their horses’ feet and said to his sons, “O my sons, mount and fetch me yonder loot.” So the five took horse and made for the party. When Gharib saw the five Amalekites approaching, he plied shovel-iron upon his steed’s flank and cried out, saying, “Who are ye, and what is your race and what do ye require?” Whereupon Falhún bin Sa’adan, the eldest of the five, came out and said, “Dismount ye and bind one another3 and we will drive you to our father, that he may roast various of you and boil various, for it is long since he has tasted the flesh of Adam-son.” When Gharib heard these words he drove at Falhun, shaking his mace, so that the rings rang like the roaring thunder and the giant was confounded. Then he smote him a light blow with the mace between the shoulders, and he fell to the ground like a tall-trunked palm- tree; whereupon Sahim and some of his men fell upon him and pinioned him; then, putting a rope about his neck, they haled him along like a cow. Now when his brothers saw him a prisoner they charged home upon Gharib, who took three4 of them captive and the fifth fled back to his sire, who said to him, “What is behind thee and where are the brothers of thee?” Quoth he “Verily, a beardless youth, forty cubits high, hath taken them prisoner.” Quoth Sa’adan, “May the sun pour no blessing on you!” and, going down from his hold, tore up a huge tree, with which he went in quest of Gharib and his folk; and he was on foot, for that no horse might carry him, because of the bigness of his body. His son followed him and the twain went on till they came up with Gharib and his company, when the Ghul fell upon them, without word said, and slew five men with his club. Then he made at Sahim and struck at him with his tree, but Sahim avoided the blow and it fell harmless; whereat Sa’adan was wroth and throwing down the weapon, sprang upon Sahim and caught him in his pounces as the sparrow hawk catcheth up the sparrow. Now when Gharib saw his brother in the Ghul’s clutches, he cried out, saying, “Allaho Akbar God is most Great! Oh the favour of Abraham the Friend, the Muhammad,5 the Blessed One (whom Allah keep and assain!)” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 Arab. “Sá‘ikah,” which is supposed to be a stone. The allusion is to Antar’s sword, “Dhámi,” made of a stone, black, brilliant and hard as a rock (an aerolite), which had struck a camel on the right side and had come out by the left. The blacksmith made it into a blade three feet long by two spans broad, a kind of falchion or chopper, cased it with gold and called it Dhámi (the “Trenchant”) from its sharpness. But he said to the owner:—
The sword is trenchant, O son of the Ghalib clan,
Trenchant in sooth, but where is the sworder-man?
Whereupon the owner struck off the maker’s head, a most satisfactory answer to all but one.
2 Arab. “Kutá‘ah”: lit. a bit cut off, fragment, nail-paring, and here un diminutif. I have described this scene in Pilgrimage iii. 68. Latro often says, “Thy gear is wanted by the daughter of my paternal uncle” (wife), and thus parades his politeness by asking in a lady’s name.
3 As will appear the two brothers were joined by a party of horsemen.
4 “Four” says the Mac. Edit. forgetting Falhun with characteristic inconsequence.
5 Muhammad (the deserving great praise) is the name used by men; Ahmad (more laudable) by angels, and Mahmúd (praised) by devils. For a similar play upon the name, “Allah Allah Muhammad ast” (God is God the praisworthy) see Dabistan ii. 416.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib saw his brother in the clutches of the Ghul, he cried out, saying “Oh the favour of Ibrahim, the Friend, the Blessed One (whom Allah keep and assain!) “; and crave his charger at Sa’adan, shaking his mace, till the rings loud rang. Then he cried out again, “God is most Great!” and smote the Ghul on the flat of the ribs with his mace, whereupon he fell to the ground, insensible, and loosed his grip on Sahim; nor did he come to himself ere he was pinioned and shackled. When his son saw this, he turned and fled; but Gharib drove steed after him and smiting him with his mace between the shoulders, threw him from his horse. So they bound him with his father and brethren and haltering them with ropes, haled them all six along like baggage-camels, till they reached the Ghul’s castle, which they found full of goods and treasures and things of price; and there they also came upon twelve hundred Ajamis, men of Persia, bound and shackled. Gharib sat down on Sa’adan’s chair, which had aforetime belonged to Sásá1 bin Shays bin Shaddad bin Ad causing Sahim to stand on his right and his companions on his either hand, and sending for the Ghul of the Mountain, said to him, “How findest thou thyself, O accursed?” Replied Sa’adan, “O my lord, in the sorriest of plights for abasement and mortification; my sons and I, we are bound with ropes like camels.” Quoth Gharib, “It is my will that you enter my faith, the faith Al–Islam hight, and acknowledge the Unity of the All knowing King whose All-might created Light and Night and every thing, there is no God ‘but He, the Requiting King! and confess the mission and prophethood of Abraham the Friend (on whom be peace!).” So the Ghul and his sons made the required profession after the goodliest fashion, and Gharib bade loose their bonds; whereupon Sa’adan wept and would have kissed his feet, he and his sons: but Gharib forbade them and they stood with the rest who stood before him. Then said Gharib, “Harkye, Sa’adan!”; and he replied, “At thy service, O my lord!” Quoth Gharib, “What are these captives?” “O my lord,” quoth the Ghul, “these are my game from the land of the Persians and are not the only ones.” Asked Gharib, “And who is with them?”; and Sa’adan answered, “O my lord, there is with them the Princess Fakhr Táj, daughter of King Sabúr of Persia,2 and an hundred damsels like moons.” When Gharib heard this, he marvelled and said, “O Emir, how came ye by these?” Replied Sa’adan, “I went forth one night with my sons and five of my slaves in quest of booty, but finding no spoil in our way, we dispersed over wilds and words and fared on, hoping we might happen on somewhat of prey and not return emptyhanded, till we found ourselves in the land of the Persians. Presently, we espied a dust cloud and sent on to reconnoitre one of our slaves, who was absent a while and presently returned and said, ‘O my lord, this is the Princess Fakhr Taj, daughter of Sabur, King of the Persians, Turcomans and Medes; and she is on a journey, attended by two thousand horse.’ Quoth I, ‘Thou hast gladdened us with good news! We could have no finer loot than this.’ Then I and my sons fell upon the Persians and slew of them three hundred men and took the Princess and twelve hundred cavaliers prisoners, together with all that was with her of treasure and riches and brought them to this our castle.” Quoth Gharib, “Hast thou offered any violence to the Princess Fakhr Taj?” Quoth Sa’adan, “Not I, as thy head liveth and by the virtue of the Faith I have but now embraced!” Gharib replied “It was well done of thee, O Sa’adan, for her father is King of the world and doubtless he will despatch troops in quest of her and lay waste the dwellings of those who took her. And whoso looketh not to issue and end hath not Fate to friend. But where is the damsel?” Said Sa’adan, “I have set apart a pavilion for her and her damsels;” and said Gharib, “Show me her lodging,” whereto Sa’adan rejoined, “Hearkening and obedience!” So he carried him to the pavilion, and there he found the Princess mournful and cast down, weeping for her former condition of dignity and delight. When Gharib saw her, he thought the moon was near him and magnified Allah, the All-hearing, the All-seeing. The Princess also looked at him and saw him a princely cavalier, with velour shining from between his eyes and testifying for him and not against him; so she rose and kissed his hands, then fell at his feet, saying, “O hero of the age, I am under thy protection; guard me from this Ghul, for I fear lest he do away my maidenhead and after devour me. So take me to serve thine handmaidens.” Quoth Gharib, “Thou art safe and thou shalt be restored to thy father and the seat of thy worship.” Whereupon she prayed that he might live long and have advancement in rank and honour. Then he bade unbind the Persians and, turning to the Princess, said to her, “What brought thee forth of thy palace to the wilds and wastes, so that the highway-robbers made prize of thee?” She replied, “O my lord, my father and all the people of his realm, Turks and Daylamites, are Magians, worshipping fire, and not the All-powerful King. Now in our country is a monastery called the Monastery of the Fire, whither every year the daughters of the Magians and worshippers of the Fire resort at the time of their festival and abide there a month, after which they return to their houses. So I and my damsels set out, as of wont, attended by two thousand horse, whom my father sent with me to guard me; but by the way this Ghul came out against us and slew some of us and, taking the rest captive, imprisoned us in this hold. This, then, is what befel me, O valiant champion, whom Allah guard against the shifts of Time!” And Gharib said, “Fear not; for I will bring thee to thy palace and the seat of thy honours.” Wherefore she blessed him and kissed his hands and feet. Then he went out from her, after having commanded to treat her with respect, and slept till morning, when he made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed a two-bow prayer, after the rite of our father Abraham the Friend (on whom be peace!), whilst the Ghul and his sons and Gharib’s company all did the like after him. Then he turned to the Ghul and said to him, “O Sa’adan, wilt thou not show me the Wady of Blossoms?’’3 “I will, O my lord,” answered he. So Gharib and his company and Princess Fakhr Taj and her maidens all rose and went forth, whilst Sa’adan commanded his slaves and slave-girls to slaughter and cook and make ready the morning-meal and bring it to them among the trees. For the Giant had an hundred and fifty handmaids and a thousand chattels to pasture his camels and oxen and sheep. When they came to the valley, they found it beautiful exceedingly and passing all degree; and birds on tree sang joyously and the mocking-nightingale trilled out her melody, and the cushat filled with her moan the mansions made by the Deity — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 The Mac. Edit. here gives “Sás,” but elsewhere “Sásá,” which is the correct form
2 Sapor the Second (A.D. 310–330) was compelled to attack the powerful Arab hordes of Oman, most of whom, like the Tayy, Aus and Khazraj, the Banu Nabhán and the Hináwi left Al–Yaman A.D. 100–170, and settled in the north and north-east of Al–Najd This great exodus and dispersion of the tribes was caused, as has been said, by the bursting of the Dam of Márib originally built by Abd al-Shams Sabá, father of Himyar. These Yamanian races were plunged into poverty and roamed northwards, planting themselves amongst the Arabs of Ma’add son of Adnán. Hence the kingdom of Ghassan in Syria whose phylarchs under the Romans (i.e. Greek Emperors of Constantinople) controlled Palestine Tertia, the Arabs of Syria and Palestine, and the kingdom of Hárah, whose Lakhmite Princes, dependent upon Persia, managed the Arabs of the Euphrates, Oman and Al–Bahrayn. The Ma’addites still continued to occupy the central plateau of Arabia, a feature analogous with India “above the Ghauts.”
3 I have described (Pilgrimage i. 370) the grisly spot which a Badawi will dignify by the name of Wady al-Ward=Vale of Roses.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib and his merry men and the Giant and his tribe reached the Wady of Blossoms they found birds flying free; the cushat filling with her moan the mansions made by the Deity, the bulbul singing as if ’twere human harmony and the merle whom to describe tongue faileth utterly; the turtle, whose plaining maddens men for loveecstasy and the ringdove and the popinjay answering her with fluency. There also were trees laden with all manner of fruitery, of each two kinds,1 the pomegranate, sweet and sour upon branches growing luxuriantly, the almond-apricot,2 the camphor-apricot3 and the almond Khorasan hight; the plum, with whose branches the boughs of the myrobalan were entwined tight; the orange, as it were a cresses flaming light, the shaddock weighed down with heavy freight; the lemon, that cures lack of appetite, the citron against jaundice of sovereign might, and the date, red and yellow-bright, the especial handiwork of Allah the Most High. Of the like of this place saith the enamoured poet,
“When its birds in the lake make melody,
The lorn lover yearneth its sight to see:
’Tis as Eden breathing a fragrant breeze,
With its shade and fruits and rills flowing free.”
Gharib marvelled at the beauty of that Wady and bade them set up there the pavilion of Fakhr Taj the Chosroite; so they pitched it among the trees and spread it with rich tapestries. Then he sat down and the slaves brought food and they ate their sufficiency; after which quoth Gharib, “Harkye, Sa’adan!”: and quoth he, “At thy service, O my lord.” “Hast thou aught of wine?” asked Gharib, and Sa’adan answered, “Yes, I have a cistern full of old wine.” Said Gharib, “Bring us some of it.” So Sa’adan sent ten slaves, who returned with great plenty of wine, and they ate and drank and were mirthful and merry. And Gharib bethought him of Mahdiyah and improvised these couplets,
“I mind our union days when ye were nigh,
And flames my heart with love’s consuming lowe.
By Allah, Ne’er of will I quitted you:
But shifts of Time from you compelled me go:
Peace and fair luck and greetings thousand-fold
To you, from exiled lover’s pining woe.”
They abode eating and drinking and taking their pleasure in the valley for three days, after which they returned to the castle. Then Gharib called Sahim and said to him, “Take an hundred horse and go to thy father and mother and thy tribe, the Banu Kahtan, and bring them all to this place, here to pass the rest of their days, whilst I carry the Princess of Persia back to her father. As for thee, O Sa’adan, tarry thou here with thy sons, till I return to thee.” Asked Sa’adan, “And why wilt thou not carry me with thee to the land of the Persians?”; and Gharib answered, “Because thou stolest away King Sabur’s daughter and if his eye fall on thee, he will eat thy flesh and drink thy blood.” When the Ghul heard this, he laughed a loud laugh, as it were the pealing thunder, and said, “O my lord, by the life of thy head, if the Persians and Medes united against me, I would make them quaff the cup of annihilation.” Quoth Gharib, “ ’Tis as thou sayest;4 but tarry thou here in fort till I return to thee;” and quoth the Ghul, “I hear and I obey.” Then Sahim departed with his comrades of the Banu Kahtan for the dwelling places of their tribe, and Gharib set out with Princess Fakhr Taj and her company, intending for the cities of Sabur, King of the Persians. Thus far concerning them; but as regards King Sabur, he abode awaiting his daughter’s return from the Monastery of the Fire, and when the appointed time passed by and she came not, flames raged in his heart. Now he had forty Wazirs, whereof the oldest, wisest and chiefest was hight Daydán: so he said to him, “O Minister, verily my daughter delayeth her return and I have no news of her though the appointed time is past; so do thou send a courier to the Monastery of the Fire to learn what is come of her.” “Hearkening and obedience,” replied Daydan; and, summoning the chief of the couriers, said to him, “Wend thou forthright to the Monastery.” So he lost no time and when he reached it, he asked the monks of the King’s daughter, but they said, “We have not seen her this year.” So the courier returned to the city of Isbánír5 and told the Wazir, who went in to the King and acquainted him with the message. Now when Sabur heard this, he cast his crown on the ground, tore his beard and fell down in a trance. They sprinkled water upon him, and presently he came to himself, tearful-eyed and heavy-hearted, and repeated the words of the poet,
“When I far-parted patience call and tears,
Tears came to call but Patience never hears:
What, then, if Fortune parted us so far?
Fortune and Perfidy are peers
Then he called ten of his captains and bade them mount with a thousand horse and ride in different directions, in quest of his daughter. So they mounted forthright and departed each with his thousand; whilst Fakhr Taj’s mother clad herself and her women in black and strewed ashes on her head and sat weeping and lamenting. Such was their case; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Koran xiii. 3, “Of every fruit two different kinds ” i.e. large and small, black and white, sweet and sour.
2 A graft upon an almond tree, which makes its kernel s..veet and gives it an especial delicacy of favour. See Russell’s (excellent) Natural History of Aleppo, p. 21.
3 So called from the flavour of the kernel it is well- known at Damascus where a favourite fruit is the dried apricot with an almond by way of kernel. There are many preparations of apricots, especially the “Mare’s skin” (Jild al-fares or Kamar al-din) a paste folded into sheets and exactly resembling the article from which it takes a name. When wanted it is dissolved in water and eaten as a relish with bread or biscuit (Pilgrimage i. 289).
4 “Ante Kamá takúl”=the vulgarest Cairene.
5 This may be Ctesiphon, the ancient capital of the Chosroës, on the Tigris below Baghdad; and spoken of elsewhere in The Nights; especially as, in Night dclxvii., it is called Isbanir Al–Madáin; Madáin Kisrá (the cities of Chosroës) being the Arabic name of the old dual city.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Sabur sent his troops in quest of his daughter, whose mother clad herself and her women in black. Such was their case; but as regards the strange adventures of Gharib and the Princess, they journeyed on ten days, and on the eleventh day, appeared a dust cloud which rose to the confines of the sky; whereupon Gharib called the Emir of the Persians and said to him, “Go learn the cause thereof.” “I hear and obey,” replied he and crave his charger, till he came under the cloud of dust, where he saw folk and enquired of them. Quoth one of them, “We are of the Banu Hattál and are questing for plunder; our Emir is Samsam bin Al- Jiráh and we are five thousand horse.” The Persians returned in haste and told their saying to Gharib, who cried out to his men of the Banu Kahtan and to the Persians, saying, “Don your arms!” They did as he bade them and presently up came the Arabs who were shouting, “A plunder! a plunder!” Quoth Gharib, “Allah confound you, O dogs of Arabs!” Then he loosed his horse and drove at them with the career of a right valiant kNight, shouting, “Allaho Akbar! Ho for the faith of Abraham the Friend, on whom be peace!” And there befel between them great fight and sore fray and the sword went round in sway and there was much said and say; nor did they leave fighting till fled the day and gloom came, when they drew from one another away. Then Gharib numbered his tribesmen and found that five of the Banu Kahtan had fallen and three-and-seventy of the Persians; but of the Banu Hattal they had slain more than five hundred horse. As for Samsam, he alighted and sought nor meat nor sleep, but said, “In all my life I never saw such a fighter as this youth! Anon he fighteth with the sword and anon with the mace; but, to-morrow I will go forth on champion wise and defy him to combat of twain in battle plain where edge and point are fain and I will cut off these Arabs.” Now, when Gharib returned to his camp, the Princess Fakhr Taj met him, weeping and affrighted for the terror of that which had befallen, and kissed his foot in the stirrup, saying, “May thy hands never wither nor thy foes be blither, O champion of the age! Alhamdolillah — Praise to God — who hath saved thee alive this day! Verily, I am in fear for thee from yonder Arabs.” When Gharib heard this, he smiled in her face and heartened and comforted her, saying, “Fear not, O Princess! Did the enemy fill this wild and wold yet would I scatter them, by the might of Allah Almighty.” She thanked him and prayed that he might be given the victory over his foes; after which she returned to her women and Gharib went to his tent, where he cleansed himself of the blood of the Infidels, and they lay on guard through the night. Next morning, the two hosts mounted and sought the plain where cut and thrust ruled sovereign. The first to prick into the open was Gharib, who crave his charger till he was near the Infidels and cried out, “Who is for jousting with me? Let no sluggard or weakling come out to me!” Whereupon there rushed forth a giant Amalekite of the lineage of the tribe of Ad, armed with an iron flail twenty pounds in weight, and drove at Gharib, saying, “O scum of the Arabs, take what cometh to thee and learn the glad tidings that thy last hour is at hand!” So saying, he aimed a blow at Gharib, but he avoided it and the flail sank a cubit into the ground. Now the badawi was bent double with the blow, so Gharib smote him with his mace and clove his forehead in sunder and he fell down dead and Allah hurried his soul to Hell-fire. Then Gharib charged and wheeled and called for champions; so there came out to him a second and a third and a fourth and so on, till ten had come forth to him and he slew them all. When the Infidels saw his form of fight and his smashing blows they hung back and forebore to fare forth to him, whereupon Samsam looked at them and said, “Allah never bless you! I will go forth to him.” So he donned his battle-gear and driving his charger into mid-field where he fronted the foe and cried out to Gharib saying, “Fie on thee, O dog of the Arabs! hath thy strength waxed so great that thou shouldst defy me in the open field and slaughter my men?” And Gharib replied, “Up and take bloodrevenge for the slaughter of thy braves!” So Samsam ran at Gharib who awaited him with broadened breast and heart enheartened, and they smote each at other with maces, till the two hosts marvelled and every eye was fixed on them. Then they wheeled about in the field and struck at each other two strokes; but Gharib avoided Samsam’s stroke which wreak had wroke and dealt with a buffet that beat in his breastbone and cast him to the ground — stone dead. Thereupon all his host ran at Gharib as one man, and he ran at them, crying, “God is most Great! Help and Victory for us and shame and defeat for those who misbelieve the faith of Abraham the Friend, on whom be peace!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sam sam’s tribesmen rushed upon Gharib as one man, he ran at them crying, “God is most Great! Help and Victory for us and shame and defeat for the Miscreant!” Now when the Infidels heard the name of the All-powerful King, the One, the All-conquering, whom the sight comprehendeth not, but He comprehendeth the sight,1 they looked at one another and said, “What is this say that maketh our side-muscles tremble and weakeneth our resolution and causeth the life to fail in us? Never in our lives heard we aught goodlier than this saying!” adding, “Let us leave fighting, that we may ask its meaning.” So they held their hands from the battle and dismounted; and their elders assembled and held counsel together, seeking to go to Gharib and saying, “Let ten of us repair to him!” So they chose out ten of their best, who set out for Gharib’s tents. Now he and his people had alighted and returned to their camp, marvelling at the withdrawal of the Infidels from the fight. But, presently, lo and behold! the ten came up and seeking speech of Gharib, kissed the earth before him and wished him glory and lasting life. Quoth he to them, “What made you leave fighting?”; and quoth they, “O, my lord, thou didst affright us with the words thou shoutest out at us.” Then asked Gharib, “What calamity do ye worship?”; and they answered, “We worship Wadd and Suwá‘a and Yaghús,2 lords of the tribe of Noah”; and Gharib, “We serve none but Allah Almighty, Maker of all things and Provider of all livings. He it is who created the heavens and the earth and stablished the mountains, who made water to well from the stones and the trees to grow and feedeth wild beasts in word; for He is Allah, the One, the All-powerful Lord.” When they heard this, their bosoms broadened to the words of Unity-faith, and they said, “Verily, this be a Lord high and great, compassionating and compassionate!”; adding, “And what shall we say, to become of the Moslems, of those which submit themselves to Him?” Quoth Gharib, “Say, ‘There is no god but the God and Abraham is the Friend of God.’” So the ten made veracious profession of the veritable religion and Gharib said to them, “An the sweet savour of Al–Islam be indeed stablished in your hearts, fare ye to your tribe and expound the faith to them; and if they profess, they shall be saved, but if they refuse we will burn them with fire.” So the ten elders returned and expounded Al–Islam to their people and set forth to them the path of truth and creed, and they embraced the Faith of Submission with heart and tongue. Then they repaired on foot to Gharib’s tent and kissing ground between his hands wished him honour and high rank, saying, “O our lord, we are become thy slaves; so command us what thou wilt, for we are to thee audient and obedient and we will never depart from thee, since Allah hath guided us into the right way at thy hands.” Replied he, “Allah abundantly requite you! Return to your dwellings and march forth with your good and your children and forego me to the Wady of Blossoms and the castle of Sásá bin Shays,3 whilst I carry the Princess Fakhr Taj, daughter of Sabur, King of the Persians, back to her father and return to you.” “Hearkening and obedience,” said they and straightway returned to their encampment, rejoicing in Al–Islam, and expounded the True Faith to their wives and children, who became Believers. Then they struck their tents and set forth, with their good and cattle, for the Wady of Blossoms. When they came in sight of the castle of Shays, Sa’adan and his sons sallied forth to them, but Gharib had charged them, saying, “If the Ghul of the Mountain come out to you and offer to attack you, do ye call upon the name of Allah the All-creator, and he will leave his hostile intent and receive you hospitably.” So when he would have fallen upon them they called aloud upon the name of Almighty Allah and straightway he received them kindly and asked them of their case. They told him all that had passed between Gharib and themselves, whereupon he rejoiced in them and lodged them with him and loaded them with favours. Such was their case; but as regards Gharib, he and his, escorting the Princess fared on five days’ journey towards the City of Isbanir, and on the sixth day they saw a dust-cloud. So Gharib sent one of the Persians to learn the meaning of this and he went and returned, swiftlier than bird in flight, saying, “O my lord, these be a thousand horse of our comrades, whom the King hath sent in quest of his daughter Fakhr Taj.” When Gharib heard this, he commanded his company to halt and pitch the tents. So they halted and waited till the new comers reached them, when they went to meet them and told Túmán, their captain, that the Princess was with them; whereupon he went in to Gharib and kissing the ground before him, enquired for her. Gharib sent him to her pavilion, and he entered and kissed her hands and feet and acquainted her with what had befallen her father and mother. She told him in return all that had betided her and how Gharib had delivered her from the Ghul of the Mountain — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 Koran vi. 103. The translation is Sale’s which I have generally preferred, despite many imperfections: Lane renders this sentence, “The eyes see not Him, but He seeth the eyes;” and Mr. Rodwell, “No vision taketh in Him (?), but He taketh in all vision,” and (better) “No eyesight reacheth to Him.”
2 Sale (sect. 1.) tells us all that was then known of these three which with Yá’úk and Nasr and the three “daughters of God,” Goddesses or Energies (the Hindu Saktis) Allát Al–Uzzá and Manát mentioned in the Koran were the chiefs of the pre-lslamitic Pantheon. I cannot but suspect that all will be connected with old Babylonian worship. Al–Baydáwi (in Kor. Ixxi. 22) says of Wadd, Suwá‘a, Yaghus, Ya’úk and Nasr that they were names of pious men between Adam and Noah, afterwards deified: Yaghús was the giant idol of the Mazhaj tribe at Akamah of Al–Yaman and afterwards at Najrán Al–Uzzá was widely worshipped: her idol (of the tree Semurat) belonging to Ghatafán was destroyed after the Prophet’s order by Khálid bin Walíd. Allát or Al-Lát is written by Pocock (spec. 110) “Ilahat” i.e. deities in general. But Herodotus evidently refers to one god when he makes the Arabs worship Dionysus as {Greek letters} and Urania as {Greek letters} and the “tashdid” in Allát would, to a Greek ear, introduce another syllable (Alilat). This was the goddess of the Kuraysh and Thakíf whose temple at Taíf was circuited like the Ka’abah before Mohammed destroyed it.
3 Shays (Shayth) is Ab Seth (Father Seth,) of the Hebrews, a name containing the initial and terminal letters of the Egypto-Phoenico–Hebrew Alphabet and the “Abjad” of the Arabs. Those curious about its connection with the name of Allah (El), the Zodiacal signs and with the constellations, visions but not wholly uninteresting, will consult “Unexplored Syria” (vol. i. 33).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King’s daughter, Fakhr Taj, had told Tuman all that had befallen her from the Mountain–Ghul, and how he had imprisoned her and would have devoured her but for Gharib, adding, “And indeed, it behoveth my sire to give him the half of his reign,” Tuman arose and returned to Gharib and kissed his hands and feet and thanked him for his good dealing, saying, “With thy leave, O my lord, I will return to Isbanir City and deliver to our King the good news of his daughter’s approach.” “Go,” replied Gharib, “and take of him the gift of glad tidings.” So Tuman returned with all dillgence to Isbanir, the Cities, and entering the palace, kissed ground before the King, who said to him, “What is there of new, O bringer of good news?” Quoth Tuman, “I will not speak thee, till thou give me the gift of glad tidings.” Quoth the King, “Tell me thy glad tidings and I will content thee.” So Tuman said, “O King, I bring thee joyful intelligence of the return of Princess Fakhr Taj.” When Sabur heard his daughter’s name, he fell down fainting and they sprinkled rose-water on him, till he recovered and cried to Tuman, “Draw near to me and tell me all the good which hath befallen her.” So he came forward and acquainted him with all that had betided the Princess; and Sabur beat hand upon hand, saying, “Unhappy thou, O Fakhr Taj!’’1 And he bade give Tuman ten thousand gold pieces and conferred on him the government of Isfáhán City and its dependencies. Then he cried out to his Emirs, saying, “Mount, all of you, and fare we forth to meet the Princess Fakhr Taj!”; and the Chief Eunuch went in to the Queen-mother and told her and all the Harim the good news, whereat she rejoiced and gave him a robe of honour and a thousand dinars. Moreover, the people of the city heard of this and decorated the market streets and houses. Then the King and Tuman took horse and rode till they had sight of Gharib, when Sabur footed it and made some steps towards Gharib, who also dismounted and advanced to meet him; and they embraced and saluted each other, and Sabur bent over Gharib’s hand and kissed it and thanked him for his favours.2 They pitched their pavilions in face of each other and Sabur went in to his daughter, who rose and embracing him told him, all that had befallen her and how Gharib had rescued her from the clutches of the Ghul of the Mountain. Quoth the King, “By thy life, O Princess of fair ones, I will overwhelm him with gifts!”; and quoth she, “O my papa, make him thy son-in-law, that he may be to thee a force against thy foes, for he is passing valiant.” Her father replied, “O my daughter, knowst thou not that King Khirad Sháh seeketh thee in marriage and that he hath cast the brocade3 and hath given an hundred thousand dinars in settlement, and he is King of Shiraz and its dependencies and is lord of empire and horsemen and footmen?” But when the Princess heard these words she said, “O my papa! I desire not that whereof thou speakest, and if thou constrain me to that I have no mind to, I will slay myself.” So Sabur left her and went in to Gharib, who rose to him; and they sat awhile together; but the King could not take his fill of looking upon him; and he said in his mind, “By Allah, my daughter is excusable if she love this Badawi!” Then he called for food and they ate and passed the night together. On the morrow, they took horse and rode till they arrived at the City of Isbanir and entered, stirrup to stirrup, and it was for them a great day. Fakhr Taj repaired to her palace and the abiding-place of her rank, where her mother and her women received her with cries of joy and loud lullilooings. As for King Sabur, he sat down on his throne and seated Gharib on his right hand, whilst the Princes and Chamberlains, the Emirs, Wazirs and Nabobs stood on either hand and gave him joy of the recovery of his daughter. Said Sabur, “Whoso loveth me let him bestow a robe of honour on Gharib,” and there fell dresses of honour on him like drops of rain. Then Gharib abode the King’s guest ten days, when he would have departed, but Sabur clad him in an honourable robe and swore him by his faith that he should not march for a whole month. Quoth Gharib, “O King, I am plighted to one of the girls of the Arabs and I desire to go in to her.” Quoth the King, “Whether is the fairer, thy betrothed or Fakhr Taj?” “O King of the age,” replied Gharib, “what is the slave beside the lord?” And Sabur said, “Fakhr Taj is become thy handmaid, for that thou didst rescue her from the pounces of the Ghul, and she shall have none other husband than thyself.” Thereupon Gharib rose and kissed ground, saying, “O King of the age, thou art a sovereign and I am but a poor man, and belike thou wilt ask a heavy dowry.” Replied the King, “O my son, know that Khirad Shah, lord of Shiraz and dependencies thereof, seeketh her in marriage and hath appointed an hundred thousand dinars to her dower; but I have chosen thee before all men, that I may make thee the sword of my kingship and my shield against vengeance.’’4 Then he turned to his Chief Officers and said to them, “Bear witness5 against me, O Lords of mine Empire, that I marry my daughter Fakhr Taj to my son Gharib.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 The exclamation of an honest Fellah.
2 This is Antar with the Chosroë who “kissed the Absian hero between the eyes and bade him adieu, giving him as a last token a rich robe.” The coarser hand of the story-teller exaggerates everything till he makes it ridiculous.
3 The context suggests thee this is a royal form of “throwing the handkerchief;” but it does not occur elsewhere. In face, the European idea seems to have arisen from the oriental practice of sending presents in napkins or kerchiefs.
4 i.e. if the disappointed suitor attack me.
5 i.e. if ever I he tempted to deny it.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sabur, King of Ajam-land said to his Chief Officers, “Bear ye witness against me that I marry my daughter Fakhr Taj, to my son Gharib!” With that he joined palms1 with him and she became his wife. Then said Gharib, “Appoint me a dower and I will bring it to thee, for I have in the Castle of Sasa wealth and treasures beyond count.” Replied Sabur, “O my son, I want of thee neither treasure nor wealth and I will take nothing for her dower save the head of Jamrkán King of Dasht and the city of Ahwáz.2” Quoth Gharib, “O King of the age, I will fetch my folk forthright and go to thy foe and spoil his realm.” Quoth Sabur, “Allah requite thee with good!” and dismissed the lords and commons, thinking, “If Gharib go forth against Jamrkan, he will never more return.” When morning morrowed the King mounted with Gharib and bidding all his troops take horse rode forth to the plain, where he said to his men, “Do ye tilt with spears and gladden my heart.” So the champions of Persia land played one against other, and Gharib said, “O King of the age, I have a mind to tilt with the horsemen of Ajam-land, but on one condition.” Asked the King, “What is that?”; and answered Gharib, “It is that I shall don a light tunic and take a headless lance, with a pennon dipped in saffron, whilst the Persian champions sally forth and tilt against me with sharp spears. If any conquer me, I will render myself to him: but, if I conquer him I will mark him on the breast and he shall leave the plain.” Then the King cried to the commander of the troops to bring forward the champions of the Persians; so he chose out from amongst the Princes one thousand two hundred of his stoutest champions, and the King said to them, in the Persian tongue, “Whoso slayeth this Badawi may ask of me what he will.” So they strove with one another for precedence and charged down upon Gharib and truth was distinguished from falsehood and jest from earnest. Quoth Gharib, “I put my trust in Allah, the God of Abraham the Friend, the Deity who hath power over all and from whom naught is hidden, the One, the Almighty, whom the sight comprehendeth not!” Then an Amalekite-like giant of the Persian champions rushed out to him, but Gharib let him not stand long before him ere he marked him and covered his breast with saffron and as he turned away, he smote him on the nape with the shaft of his lance, and he fell to the ground and his pages bore him from the lists.3 Then a second champion came forth against him and he overcame him and marked him on the breast; and thus did he with a third and a fourth and a fifth; and there came out against him champion after champion till he had overcome them all and marked them on the breast; for Almighty Allah gave him the victory over them and they fared forth vanquish from the plain. Then the servants set food and strong wine before them! and they ate and drank, till Gharib’s wits were dazed by the drink. By and by, he went out to obey a call of Nature and would have returned, but lost his way and entered the palace of Fakhr Taj. When she saw him, her reason fled and she cried out to her women saying, “Go forth from me to your own places!” So they withdrew and she rose and kissed Gharib’s hand, saying “Welcome to my lord, who delivered me from the Ghul! Indeed I am thine handmaid for ever and ever.” Then she drew him to her bed and embraced him, whereupon desire was hot upon him and he broke her seal and lay with her till the morning. Meanwhile the King thought that he had departed; but on the morrow he went in to him and Sabur rose to him and made him sit by his side. Then entered the tributary kings and kissing the ground stood ranged in rows on the right and left and fell to talking of Gharib’s velour and saying, “Extolled be He who gave him such prowess albeit he is so young in years!” As they were thus engaged, behold all espied from the palace-windows the dust of horse approaching and the King cried out to his scouts, saying, “Woe to you! Go and bring me news of yonder dust!” So a cavalier took horse and riding off, returned after a while, and said “O King, we found under that dust an hundred horse belonging to an Emir hight Sahim al-Layl.” Gharib hearing these words, cried out, “O my lord, this is my brother, whom I had sent on an errand, and I will go forth to meet him.” So saying, he mounted, with his hundred men of the Banu Kahtan and a thousand Persians, and rode to meet his brother in great state, but greatness belongeth to God alone.4 When the two came up with each other, they dismounted and embraced, and Gharib said to Sahim, “O my brother, hast thou brought our tribe to the Castle of Sasa and the Wady of Blossoms?” “O my brother,” replied Sahim, “when the perfidious dog Mardas heard that thou hadst made thee master of the stronghold belonging to the Mountain–Ghul, he was sore chagrined and said, ‘Except I march hence, Gharib will come and carry off my daughter Mahdiyah without dower.’ So he took his daughter and his goods and set out with his tribe for the land of Irak, where he entered the city of Cufa and put himself under the protection of King Ajib, seeking to give him his daughter to wife.” When Gharib heard his brother’s story, he well-nigh gave up the ghost for rage and said, “By the virtue of the faith of Al–Islam, the faith of Abraham the Friend, and by the Supreme Lord, I will assuredly go to the land of Irak and fierce war upon it I will set on foot.” Then they returned to the city and going in to the King, kissed ground before him. He rose to Gharib and saluted Sahim; after which the elder brother told him what had happened and he put ten captains at his commandment, under each one’s hand ten thousand horse of the doughtiest of the Arabs and the Ajams, who equipped themselves and were ready to depart in three days. Then Gharib set out and journeyed till he reached the Castle of Sasa whence the Ghul and his sons came forth to meet him and dismounting, kissed his feet in the stirrups. He told them all that had passed and the giant said, “O my lord, do thou abide in this thy castle, whilst I with my sons and servants repair to Irak and lay waste the city Al–Rusták5 and bring to thy hand all its defenders bound in straitest bond.” But Gharib thanked him and said, “O Sa’adan, we will all go.” So he made him ready and the whole body set out for Irak, leaving a thousand horse to guard the Castle. Thus far concerning them; but as regards Mardas, he arrived with his tribe in the land of Irak bringing with him a handsome present and fared for Cufa-city which he entered. Then, he presented himself before Ajib and kissed ground between his hands and, after wishing him what is wished to kings, said, “O my lord, I come to place myself under thy protection.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 Arab. “Musáfahah,¨’ the Arab fashion of shaking hands. The right palms are applied flat to each other; then the fingers are squeezed and the hand is raised to the forehead (Pilgrimage ii. 332).
2 A city and province of Khuzistán the old Susiana. Dasht may be either the town in Khorasan or the “forests” (dasht) belonging to Ahwáz (Ahuaz in D’Herbelot).
3 This is the contest between “Antar and the Satrap Khosrewan at the Court of Monzer.” but without its tragical finish.
4 Elliptical “he rode out in great state, that is to say if greatness can truly be attributed to man,” for, etc.
5 According to D’Herbelot (s.v. Rostac) it is a name given to the villages of Khorasan as “Souad” (Sawád) to those of Irak and Makhlaf to those of Al–Yaman: there is, how ever, a well-known Al–Rustak (which like Al–Bahrayn always takes the article) in the Province of Oman West of Maskat, and as it rhymes with “Irak” it does well enough. Mr. Badger calls this ancient capital of the Ya’arubah Imams “er-Rasták” (Imams of Oman).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King that Mardas coming into the presence of Ajib, said to him, “I come to place myself under thy protection!” Quoth Ajib, “Tell me who hath wronged thee, that I may protect thee against him, though it were Sabur, King of the Persians and Turcomans and Daylamites.” Quoth Mardas, “O King of the Age, he who hath wronged me is none other than a youth whom I reared in my bosom. I found him in his mother’s lap in a certain valley and took her to wife She brought me a son, whom I named Sahim al-Layl, and her own son, Gharib hight, grew up on my knees and became a blasting thunderbolt and a lasting calamity,1 for he smote Al–Hamal,2 Prince of the Banu Nabhan, and slew footmen and threw horsemen. Now I have a daughter, who befitteth thee alone, and he sought her of me; so I required of him the head of the Ghul of the Mountain, wherefore he went to him and, after engaging him in singular combat, made the master his man and took the Castle of Sasa bin Shays bin Shaddad bin Ad, wherein are the treasures of the ancients and the hoards of the moderns. Moreover, I hear that, become a Moslem, he goeth about, summoning the folk to his faith. He is now gone to bear the Princess of Persia, whom he delivered from the Ghul, back to her father, King Sabur, and will not return but with the treasures of the Persians.” When Ajib heard the story of Mardas he changed colour to yellow and was in ill case and made sure of his own destruction; then he said, O Mardas, is the youth’s mother with thee or with him?”; and Mardas replied, “She is with me in my tents.” Quoth Ajib, What is her name?”; quoth Mardas, “Her name is Nusrah.” “ ’Tis very she,” rejoined Ajib and sent for her to the presence. Now when she came before him, he looked on her and knew her and asked her, “O accursed, where are the two slaves I sent with thee?”; and she answered, “They slew each other on my account;” whereupon Ajib bared his blade and smote her and cut her in twain. Then they dragged her away and cast her out; but trouble and suspicion entered Ajib’s heart and he cried, “O Mardas, give me thy daughter to wife.” He rejoined, “She is one of thine handmaids: I give her to thee to wife, and I am thy slave.” Said Ajib, “I desire to look upon this son of an adulteress, Gharib, that I may destroy him and cause him taste all manner of torments.” Then he bade give Mardas, to his daughter’s dowry, thirty thousand dinars and an hundred pieces of silk-brocaded and fringed with gold and an hundred pieces of silk bordered stuffs and kerchiefs and golden collars. So he went forth with this mighty fine dowry and set himself to equip Mahdiyah in all diligence. Such was their case; but as regards Gharib, he fared on till he came to Al-Jazírah, which is the first town of Al–Irak3 and is a walled and fortified city and he hard by it called a halt. When the townsfolk saw his army encamped before it, they bolted the gates and manned the walls, then went to the King of the city, who was called Al-Dámigh, the Brainer, for that he used to brain the champions in the open field of fight, and told him what was come upon them. So he looked forth from the battlements of the palace and seeing a conquering host, all of them Persians, encamped before the city, said to the citizens, “O folk, what do yonder Ajams want?”; and they replied, “We know not.” Now Al-Damigh had among his officers a man called Saba’ al-Kifár, the Desert-lion, keen of wit and penetrating as he were a flame of fire; so he called him and said to him, “Go to this stranger host and find out who they be and what they want and return quickly.” Accordingly, he sped like the wind to the Persian tents, where a company of Arabs rose up and met him saying, “Who art thou and what dost thou require?” He replied, “I am a messenger and an envoy from the lord of the city to your chief.” So they took him and carried him through the lines of tents, pavilions and standards, till they came to Gharib’s Shahmiyánah and told him of the mission. He bade them bring him in and they did so, whereupon he kissed ground before Gharib and wished him honour and length of days. Quoth Gharib, “What is thine errand?” and quoth Saba’ al-Kifar, “I am an envoy from the lord of the city of Al–Jazirah, Al–Damigh, brother of King Kundamir, lord of the city of Cufa and the land of Irak.” When Gharib heard his father’s name, the tears railed from his eyes in rills and he looked at the messenger and said, “What is thy name?”; and he replied, “My name is Saba’ al-Kifar.” Said Gharib, “Return to thy lord and tell him that the commander of this host is called Gharib, son of Kundamir, King of Cufa, whom his son Ajib slew, and he is come to take blood-revenge for his sire on Ajib the perfidious hound.” So Saba’ al-Kifar returned to the city and in great joy kissed the ground, when Al–Damigh said, “What is going on there, O Saba’ al-Kifar?” He replied, “O my master, the leader of yon host is thy nephew, thy brother’s son,” and told him all. The King deemed himself in a dream and asked the messenger, “O Saba’ al-Kifar, is this thou tellest me true?” and the Desert-lion answered, “As thy head liveth, it is sooth!” Then Al–Damigh bade his chief officers take horse forthright and all rode out to the camp, whence Gharib came forth and met him and they embraced and saluted each other; after which Gharib carried him to his tents and they sat down on beds of estate. Al–Damigh rejoiced in Gharib, his brother’s son, and presently turning to him, said, “I also have yearned to take blood-revenge for thy father, but could not avail against the dog thy brother; for that his troops are many and my troops are few.” Replied Gharib, “O uncle, here am I come to avenge my sire and blot out our shame and rid the realm of Ajib.” Said Al–Damigh, “O son of my brother, thou hast two blood-wreaks to take, that of thy father and that of thy mother.” Asked Gharib, “And what aileth my mother?” and Al–Damigh answered, “Thy brother Ajib hath slain her.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib heard these words of his uncle Al–Damigh, “Verily thy brother Ajib hath slain her!”, he asked what was the cause thereof and was told of all that had happened, especially how Mardas had married his daughter to Ajib who was about to go into her. Thereupon Gharib’s reason fled from his head and he swooned away and was nigh upon death. No sooner did he come to himself than he cried out to the troops, saying, “To horse!” But Al–Damigh said to him, “O son of my brother, wait till I make ready mine affairs and mount among my men and fare with thee at thy stirrup.” Replied Gharib “I have no patience to wait; do thou equip thy troops and join me at Cufa.” Thereupon Gharib mounted with his troops and rode, till he came to the town of Babel,1 whose folk took fright at him. Now there was in this town a King called Jamak, under whose hand were twenty thousand horsemen, and there gathered themselves together to him from the villages other fifty thousand horse, who pitched their tents facing the city. Then Gharib wrote a letter and sent it to King Jamak by a messenger, who came up to the city-gate and cried out, saying, “I am an envoy;” whereupon the Warder of the Gate went in and told Jamak, who said, “Bring him to me.” So he led in the messenger, who kissing the ground before the King, gave him the letter, and Jamak opened it and read its contents as follows: “Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Three Worlds, Lord of all things, who giveth to all creatures their daily bread and who over all things is Omnipotent! These from Gharib, son of King Kundamir, lord of Irak and Cufa, to Jamak. Immediately this letter reacheth thee, let not thy reply be other than to break thine idols and confess the unity of the All-knowing King, Creator of light and darkness, Creator of all things, the All-powerful; and except thou do as I bid thee, I will make this day the blackest of thy days. Peace be on those who follow in the way of Salvation, fearing the issues of fornication, and obey the hest of the Most High King, Lord of this world and the next, Him who saith to a thing, ‘Be’; and it becometh!” Now when Jamak read this letter, his eyes paled and his colour failed and he cried out to the messenger, “Go to thy lord and say to him, ‘To-morrow, at daybreak there shall be fight and conflict and it shall appear who is the conquering hero.’” So he returned and told Gharib, who bade his men make ready for battle, whilst Jamak commanded his tents to be pitched in face of Gharib’s camp; and his troops poured forth like the surging sea and passed the night with intention of slaughter. As soon as dawned the day, the two hosts mounted and drew up in battle array and beat their drums amain and drave their steeds of swiftest strain; and they filled the whole earthly plain; and the champions to come out were fain. Now the first who sallied forth a championing to the field was the Ghul of the Mountain, bearing on shoulder a terrible tree, and he cried out between the two hosts, saying, “I am Sa’adan the Ghul! Who is for fighting, who is for jousting? Let no sluggard come forth to me nor weakling.” And he called out to his sons, saying, “Woe to you! Bring me fuel and fire, for I am an-hungered.” So they cried upon their slaves who brought firewood and kindled a fire in the heart of the plain. Then there came out to him a man of the Kafirs, an Amalekite of the unbelieving Amalekites, bearing on his shoulder a mace like the mast of a ship, and drove at Sa’adan the Ghul, saying, “Woe to thee, O Sa’adan!” When the giant heard this, he waxed furious beyond measure and raising his tree club, aimed at the Infidel a blow, that hummed through the air. The Amalekite met the stroke with his mace, but the tree beat down his guard and descending with its own weight, together with the weight of the mace upon his head, beat in his brain pan, and he fell like a long-stemmed palm-tree. Thereupon Sa’adan cried to his slaves, saying, “Take this fatted calf and roast him quickly.” So they hastened to skin the Infidel and roasted him and brought him to the Ghul, who ate his flesh and crunched his bones.2 Now when the Kafirs saw how Sa’adan did with their fellow, their hair and pile stood on end; their skins quaked, their colour changed, their hearts died within them and they said to one another, “Whoso goeth out against this Ghul, he eateth him and cracketh his bones and causeth him to lack the zephyr-wind of the world.” Wherefore they held their hands, quailing for fear of the Ghul and his sons and turned to fly, making for the town; but Gharib cried out to his troops, saying, “Up and after the runaways!” So the Persians and the Arabs crave after the King of Babel and his host and caused sword to smite them, till they slew of them twenty thousand or more. Then the fugitives crowded together in the city gate and they killed of them much people; and they could not avail to shut the gate. So the Arabs and the Persians entered with them, fighting, and Sa’adan, snatching a mace from one of the slain, wielded it in the enemy’s face and gained the city race-course. Thence he fought his way through the foe and broke into the King’s palace, where he met with Jamak and so smote him with the mace, that he toppled senseless to the ground. Then he fell upon those who were in the palace and pounded them into pieces, till all that were left cried out, “Quarter! Quarter!” and Sa’adan said to them, “Pinion your King.”— And Shahrazad saw the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 The story-teller goes back from Kufah founded in Omar’s day to the times of Abraham.
2 This manœuvre has often been practiced; especially by the first Crusaders under Bohemond (Gibbon) and in late years by the Arab slavers in Eastern Intertropical Africa. After their skirmishes with the natives they quartered and “bristled” the dead like game, roasted and boiled the choice pieces and pretended to eat the flesh. The enemy, who was not afraid of death, was struck with terror by the idea of being devoured, and this seems instinctive to the undeveloped mind.
Shahrazad continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sa’adan having broken into the palace of King Jamak and pounded to pieces those therein, the survivors cried out, “Quarter! Quarter!”; and Sa’adan said to them, “Pinion your King!” So they bound Jamak and took him up, and Sa’adan drove them before him like sheep and brought them to Gharib’s presence, after the most part of the citizens had perished by the enemy’s swords. When the King of Babel came to himself, he found himself bound and heard Sa’adan say, “I will sup to-night off this King Jamak:” whereupon he turned to Gharib and cried to him, “I throw myself on thy mercy.” Replied Gharib, “Become a Moslem, and thou shalt be safe from the Ghul and from the vengeance of the Living One who ceaseth not.” So Jamak professed Al–Islam with heart and tongue and Gharib bade loose his bonds. Then he expounded The Faith to his people and they all became True Believers; after which Jamak returned to the city and despatched thence provaunt land henchmen to Gharib; and wine to the camp before Babel where they passed the night. On the morrow, Gharib gave the signal for the march and they fared on till they came to Mayyáfárikín,1 which they found empty, for its people had heard what had befallen Babel and had fled to Cufa-city and told Ajib. When he heard the news, his Doom-day appeared to him and he assembled his braves and informing them of the enemy’s approach ordered them make ready to do battle with his brother’s host; after which he numbered them and found them thirty-thousand horse and ten thousand foot.2 So, needing more, he levied other fifty-thousand men, cavalry and infantry, and taking horse amid a mighty host, rode forwards, till he came upon his brother’s army encamped before Mosul and pitched his tents in face of their lines. Then Gharib wrote a writ and said to his officers, “Which of you will carry this letter to Ajib?” Whereupon Sahim sprang to his feet and cried, “O King of the Age, I will bear thy missive and bring thee back an answer.” So Gharib gave him the epistle and he repaired to the pavilion of Ajib who, when informed of his coming, said, “Admit him!” and when he stood in the presence asked him, “Whence comest thou?” Answered Sahim, “From the King of the Arabs and the Persians, son-in-law of Chosroë, King of the world, who sendeth thee a writ; so do thou return him a reply.” Quoth Ajib, “Give me the letter;” accordingly Sahim gave it to him and he tore it open and found therein, “In the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate! Peace on Abraham the Friend await! But afterwards. As soon as this letter shall come to thy hand, do thou confess the Unity of the Bountiful King, Causer of causes and Mover of the clouds;3 and leave worshipping idols. An thou do this thing, thou art my brother and ruler over us and I will pardon thee the deaths of my father and mother, nor will I reproach thee with what thou hast done. But an thou obey not my bidding, behold, I will hasten to thee and cut off thy head and lay waste thy dominions. Verily, I give thee good counsel, and the Peace be on those who pace the path of salvation and obey the Most High King!” When Ajib read these words and knew the threat they contained, his eyes sank into the crown of his head and he gnashed his teeth and flew into a furious rage. Then he tore the letter in pieces and threw it away, which vexed Sahim and he cried out upon Ajib, saying, “Allah wither thy hand for the deed thou hast done!” With this Ajib cried out to his men, saying, “Seize yonder hound and hew him in pieces with your hangers.’’4 So they ran at Sahim; but he bared blade and fell upon them and slew of them more than fifty braves; after which he cut his way out, though bathed in blood, and won back to Gharib, who said, “What is this case, O Sahim?” And he told him what had passed, whereat he grew livid for rage and crying “Allaho Akbar God is most great!” bade the battle-drums beat. So the fighting-men donned their hauberks and coats of straitwoven mail and baldrick’d themselves with their swords; the footmen drew out in battle-array, whilst the horsemen mounted their prancing horses and dancing camels and levelled their long lances, and the champions rushed into the field. Ajib and his men also took horse and host charged down upon host. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Mayyafarikin, whose adjective for shortness is “Fárikí”: the place is often mentioned in The Nights as the then capital of Diyár Bakr, thirty parasangs from Násibín, the classical Nisibis, between the upper Euphrates and Tigris.
2 This proportion is singular to moderns but characterised Arab and more especially Turcoman armies.
3 Such is the bathos caused by the Saja’-assonance: in the music of the Arabic it contrasts strangely with the baldness of translation. The same is the case with the Koran beautiful in the original and miserably dull in European languages, it is like the glorious style of the “Anglican Version” by the side of its bastard brothers in Hindostani or Marathi; one of these marvels of stupidity translating the “Lamb of God” by “God’s little goat.
4 This incident is taken from the Life of Mohammed who, in the “Year of Missions” (A. H. 7) sent letters to foreign potentates bidding them embrace Al–Islam, and, his seal being in three lines, Mohammed|Apostle|of Allah, Khusrau Parwíz (=the Charming) was offended because his name was placed below Mohammed’s. So he tore the letter in pieces adding, says Firdausi, these words:—
Hath the Arab’s daring performed such feat,
Fed on camel’s milk and the lizard’s meat,
That he cast on Kayánian crown his eye?
Fie, O whirling world! on thy faith and fie!
Hearing of this insult Mohammed exclaimed, “Allah shall tear his kingdom!” a prophecy which was of course fulfilled, or we should not have heard of it. These lines are horribly mutilated in the Dabistan (iii. 99).
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib and his merry men took horse, Ajib and his troops also mounted and host charged down upon host. Then ruled the Kazi of Battle, in whose ordinance is no wrong, for a seal is on his lips and he speaketh not; and the blood railed in rills and purfled earth with curious embroidery; heads grew gray and hotter waxed battle and fiercer. Feet slipped and stood firm the valiant and pushed forwards, whilst turned the faint-heart and fled, nor did they leave fighting till the day darkened and the night starkened Then clashed the cymbals of retreat and the two hosts drew apart each from other, and returned to their tents, where they righted. Next morning, as soon as it was day, the cymbals beat to battle and derring-do, and the warriors donned their harness of fight and baldrick’d1 their blades the brightest bright and with the brown lance bedight mounted doughty steed every knight and cried out, saying, “This day no flight!” And the two hosts drew out in battle array, like the surging sea. The first to open the chapter2 of war was Sahim, who crave his destrier between the two lines and played with swords and spears and turned over all the Capitula of combat till men of choicest wits were confounded. Then he cried out, saying, “Who is for fighting? Who is for jousting? Let no sluggard come out nor weakling!” Whereupon there rushed at him a horseman of the Kafirs, as he were a flame of fire; but Sahim let him not stand long before him ere he overthrew him with a thrust. Then a second came forth and he slew him also, and a third and he tare him in twain, and a fourth and he did him to death; nor did they cease sallying out to him and he left not slaying them, till it was noon, by which time he had laid low two hundred braves. Then Ajib cried to his men, “Charge once more,” and sturdy host on sturdy host down bore and great was the clash of arms and battle-roar. The shining swords out rang; the blood in streams ran and footman rushed upon footman; Death showed in van and horse-hoof was shodden with skull of man; nor did they cease from sore smiting till waned the day and the night came on in black array, when they drew apart and, returning to their tents, passed the night there. As soon as morning morrowed the two hosts mounted and sought the field of fight; and the Moslems looked for Gharib to back steed and ride under the standards as was his wont, but he came not. So Sahim sent to his brother’s pavilion a slave who, finding him not, asked the tent-pitchers,3 but they answered, “We know naught of him.” Whereat he was greatly concerned and went forth and told the troops, who refrained from battle, saying, “An Gharib be absent, his foe will destroy us.” Now there was for Gharib’s absence a cause strange but true which we will set out in order due. And it was thus. When Ajib returned to his camp on the preceding Night, he called one of his guardsmen by name Sayyar and said to him, “O Sayyar, I have not treasured thee save for a day like this; and now I bid thee enter among Gharib s host and, pushing into the marquee of their lord, bring him hither to me and prove how wily thy cunning be.” And Sayyar said, “I hear and I obey.” So he repaired to the enemy’s camp and stealing into Gharib’s pavilion, under the darkness of the Night, when all the men had gone to their places of rest, stood up as though he were a slave to serve Gharib, who present! being athirst, called to him for water. So he brought him a pitcher of water, drugged with Bhang, and Gharib could not fulfill his need ere he fell down with head distancing heels, whereupon Sayyar wrapped him in his cloak and carrying him to Ajib’s tent, threw him down at his feet. Quoth Ajib, “O Sayyar, what is this?” Quoth he, “This be thy brother Gharib;” whereat Ajib rejoiced and said, “The blessings of the Idols light upon thee! Loose him and wake him.” So they made him sniff up vinegar and he came to himself and opened his eyes; then, finding himself bound and in a tent other than his own, exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious the Great!” Thereupon Ajib cried out at him, saying, “Dost thou draw on me, O dog, and seek to slay me and take on me thy blood-wreak of thy father and thy mother? I will send thee this very day to them and rid the world of thee.” Replied Gharib, Kafir hound! soon shalt thou see against whom the wheels of fate shall revolve and who shall be overthrown by the wrath of the Almighty King, Who wotteth what is in hearts and Who shall leave thee in Gehenna tormented and confounded! Have ruth on thyself and say with me, ‘There is no god but the God and Abraham is the Friend of God!’ “ When Ajib heard Gharib’s words, he sparked and snorted and railed at his god, the stone, and called for the sworder and the leather rug of blood but his Wazir, who was at heart a Moslem though outwardly a Miscreant, rose and kissing ground before him, said, “Patience, O King, deal not hastily, but wait till we know the conquered from the conqueror. If we prove the victors, we shall have power to him and, if we be beaten, his being alive in our hands will be a strength to us.” And the Emirs said, “The Minister speaketh sooth”! — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This “Taklíd” must not be translated “girt on the sword.” The Arab carries his weapon by a baldrick or bandoleer passed over his right shoulder. In modern days the “ Majdal” over the left shoulder supports on the right hip a line of Tatárif or brass cylinders for cartridges: the other cross-belt (Al–Masdar) bears on the left side the Kharízah or bullet-pouch of hide; and the Hizám or waist-belt holds the dagger and extra cartridges. (Pilgrimage iii. 90.)
2 Arab. “Bab,” which may mean door or gate. The plural form (Abwáb) occurs in the next line, meaning that he displayed all manner of martial prowess.
3 Arab. “Farrásh” (also used in Persian), a man of general utility who pitches tents, speeps the floors. administers floggings, etc. etc. (Pilgrimage iii. 90.)
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ajib purposed to slay Gharib, the Wazir rose and said, “Deal not hastily, for we have always power to kill him!” So Ajib bade lay his brother Gharib in irons and chain him up in his own tent and set a thousand stout warriors to guard him. Meanwhile Gharib’s host, when they awoke that morning and found not their King, were as sheep sans a shepherd; but Sa’adan the Ghul cried out at them, saying, “O folk, don your war-gear and trust to your Lord to defend you!” So Arabs and Ajams mounted horse, after clothing themselves in hauberks of iron and skirting themselves in straight knit mail, and sallied forth to the field, the Chiefs and the colours moving in van. Then dashed out the Ghul of the Mountain, with a club on his shoulder, two hundred pounds in weight, and wheeled and careered, saying, “Ho, worshippers of idols, come ye out and renown it this day, for ’tis a day of onslaught! Whoso knoweth me hath enough of my mischief and whoso knoweth me not, I will make myself known to him. I am Sa’adan, servant of King Gharib. Who is for jousting? Who is for fighting? Let no faintheart come forth to me to-day nor weakling.” And there rushed upon him a Champion of the Infidels, as he were a flame of fire, and drove at him, but Sa’adan charged home at him and dealt him with his club a blow which broke his ribs and cast him lifeless to the earth. Then he called out to his sons and slaves, saying, “Light the bonfire, and whoso falleth of the Kafirs do ye dress him and roast him well in the flame, then bring him to me that I may break my fast on him!” So they kindled a fire midmost the plain and laid thereon the slain, till he was cooked, when they brought him to Sa’adan, who gnawed his flesh and crunched his bones. When the Miscreants saw the Mountain–Ghul do this deed they were Frighted with sore Wright, but Ajib cried out to his men, saying, “Out on you! Fall upon the Ogre and hew him in hunks with your scymitars!” So twenty-thousand men ran at Sa’adan, whilst the footmen circled round him and rained upon him darts and shafts so that he was wounded in four-and-twenty places, and his blood ran down upon the earth, and he was alone. Then the host of the Moslems crave at the heathenry, calling for help upon the Lord of the three Worlds, and they ceased not from fight and fray till the day came to an end, when they drew apart. But the Infidels had captured Sa’adan, as he vere a drunken man for loss of blood; and they bound him fast and set him by Gharib who, seeing the Ghul a prisoner, said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! O Sa’adan, what case is this?” “O my lord,” replied Sa’adan, “it is Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) who ordaineth joy and annoy and there is no help but this and that betide.” And Gharib rejoined, “Thou speakest sooth, O Sa’adan!” But Ajib passed the night in joy and he said to his men, “Mount ye on the morrow and fall upon the Moslems so shall not one of them be left alive.” And they replied, “Hearkening and obedience!” This is how it fared with them but as regards the Moslems, they passed the Night, dejected and weeping for their King and Sa’adan; but Sahim said to them, “O folk, be not concerned, for the aidance of Almighty Allah is nigh.” Then he waited till midnight, when he assumed the garb of a tent-pitcher; and, repairing to Ajib’s camp, made his way between the tents and pavilions till he came to the King’s marquee, where he saw him seated on his throne surrounded by his Princes. So he entered and going up to the candles which burnt in the tent snuffed them and sprinkled levigated henbane on the wicks; after which he withdrew and waited without the marquee, till the smoke of the burning henbane reached Ajib and his Princes and they fell to the ground like dead men. Then he left them and went to the prison tent, where he found Gharib and Sa’adan, guarded by a thousand braves, who were overcome with sleep. So he cried out at the guards, saying, “Woe to you! Sleep not; but watch your prisoners and light the cressets.” Presently he filled a cresses with firewood, on which he strewed henbane, and lighting it, went round about the tent with it, till the smoke entered the nostrils of the guards, and they all fell asleep drowned by the drug; when he entered the tent and finding Gharib and Sa’adan also insensible he aroused them by making them smell and sniff at a sponge full of vinegar he had with him. Thereupon he loosed their bonds and collars, and when they saw him, they blessed him and rejoiced In him. After this they went forth and took all the arms of the guards and Sahim said to them, “Go to your own camp;” while he re entered Ajib’s pavilion and, wrapping him in his cloak, lifted him up and made for the Moslem encampment. And the Lord, Compassionate protected him, so that he reached Gharib’s tent in safety and unrolled the cloak before him. Gharib looked at its contents and seeing his brother Ajib bound, cried out, “Allaho Akbar — God is Most Great! Aidance! Victory!” And he blessed Sahim and bade him arouse Ajib. So he made him smell the vinegar mixed with incense, and he opened his eyes and, finding himself bound and shackled, hung down his head earth wards. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after Sahim had aroused Ajib, whom he had made insensible with henbane and had brought to his brother Gharib, the captive opened his eyes and, feeling himself bound and shackled, hung down his head earthwards. Thereupon cried Sahim, O Accursed, lift thy head!” So he raised his eyes and found himself amongst Arabs and Ajamis and saw his brother seated on the throne of his estate and the place of his power, wherefore he was silent and spake not. Then Gharib cried out and said, “Strip me this hound!” So they stripped him and came down upon him with whips, till they weakened his body and subdued his pride, after which Gharib set over him a guard of an hundred knights. And when this fraternal correction had been administered they heard shouts of, “There is no God but the God!” and “God is Most Great!” from the camp of the Kafirs. Now the cause of this was that, ten days after his nephew King Al–Damigh, Gharib’s uncle, had set out from Al–Jazirah, with twenty-thousand horse, and on nearing the field of battle, had despatched one of his scouts to get news. The man was absent a whole day, at the end of which time he returned and told Al–Damigh all that had happened to Gharib with his brother. So he waited till the Night, when he fell upon the Infidels, crying out, “Allaho Akbar!” and put them to the edge of the biting scymitar. When Gharib heard the Takbir,1 he said to Sahim, “Go find out the cause of these shouts and war cries.” So Sahim repaired to the field of battle and questioned the slaves and camp followers, who told him that King Al–Damigh had come up with twenty-thousand men and had fallen upon the idolaters by Night, saying, “By the virtue of Abraham the Friend, I will not forsake my brother’s son, but will play a brave man’s part and beat back the host of Miscreants and please the Omnipotent King!” So Sahim returned and told his uncle’s derring-do to Gharib, who cried out to his men, saying, “Don your arms and mount your steeds and let us succour my father’s brother!” So they took horse and fell upon the Infidels and put them to the edge of the sharp sword. By the morning they had killed nigh fifty-thousand of the Kafirs and made other thirty-thousand prisoners, and the rest of Ajib’s army dispersed over the length and breadth of earth. Then the Moslems returned in victory and triumph, and Gharib rode out to meet his uncle, whom he saluted and thanked for his help Quoth Al–Damigh, “I wonder if that dog Ajib fell in this day’s affair.” Quoth Gharib, “O uncle, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear: know that he is with me in chains.” When Al–Damigh heard this he rejoiced with exceeding joy and the two kings dismounted and entered the pavilion, but found no Ajib there; whereupon Gharib exclaimed, “O glory of Abraham, the Friend (with whom be peace!),” adding, “Alas, what an ill end is this to a glorious day!” and he cried out to the tent-pitchers, saying, “Woe to you! Where is my enemy who oweth me so much?” Quoth they, “When thou mountedst and we went with thee, thou didst not bid us guard him;” and Gharib exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” But Al–Damigh said to him, “Hasten not nor be concerned, for where can he go, and we in pursuit of him?” Now the manner of Ajib’s escape was in this wise. His page Sayyar had been ambushed in the camp and when he saw Gharib mount and ride forth, leaving none to guard his enemy Ajib, he could hardly credit his eyes. So he waited awhile and presently crept to the tent and taking Ajib, who was senseless for the pain of the bastinado, on his back, made off with him into the open country and fared on at the top of his speed from early night to the next day, till he came to a spring of water, under an apple tree. There he set down Ajib from his back and washed his face, whereupon he opened his eyes and seeing Sayyar, said to him, “O Sayyar, carry me to Cufa that I may recover there and levy horsemen and soldiers wherewith to overthrow my foe: and know, O Sayyar, that I am anhungered.” So Sayyar sprang up and going out to the desert caught an ostrich-poult and brought it to his lord. Then he gathered fuel and deftly using the fire sticks kindled a fire,, by which he roasted the bird which he had hallal’d2 and fed Ajib with its flesh and gave him to drink of the water of the spring, till his strength returned to hits, after which he went to one of the Badawi tribal encampments, and stealing thence a steed mounted Ajib upon it and journeyed on with him for many days till they drew near the city of Cufa. The Viceroy of the capital came out to meet and salute the King, whom he found weak with the beating his brother had inflicted upon him; and Ajib entered the city and called his physicians. When they answered his summons, he bade them heal him in less than ten days’ time: they said, “We hear and we obey,” and they tended him till he became whole of the sickness that was upon him and of the punishment. Then he commanded his Wazirs to write letters to all his Nabobs and vassals, and he indited one-and-twenty writs and despatched them to the governors, who assembled their troops and set out for Cufa by forced marches. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ajib sent orders to assemble the troops, who marched forthright to Cufa. Meanwhile, Gharib, being troubled for Ajib’s escape, despatched in quest of him a thousand braves, who dispersed on all sides and sought him a day and a Night, but found no trace of him; so they returned and told Gharib, who called for his brother Sahim, but found him not; whereat he was sore concerned, fearing for him from the shifts of Fortune. And lo! Sahim entered and kissed ground before Gharib, who rose, when he saw him, and asked, “Where hast thou been, O Sahim?” He answered, “O King, I have been to Cufa and there I find that the dog Ajib hath made his way to his capital and is healed of his hurts: eke, he hath written letters to his vassals and sent them to his Nabobs who have brought him troops.” When Gharib heard this, he gave the command to march; so they struck tents and fared for Cufa. When they came in sight of the city, they found it compassed about with a host like the surging main, having neither beginning nor end. So Gharib with his troops encamped in face of the Kafirs and set up his standards, and darkness fell down upon the two hosts, whereupon they lighted camp-fires and kept watch till daybreak. Then King Gharib rose and making the Wuzu-ablution, prayed a two-bow prayer according to the rite of our father Abraham the Friend (on whom be the Peace!); after which he commanded the battle drums to sound the point of war. Accordingly, the kettle-drums beat to combat and the standards fluttered whilst the fighting-men armour donned and their horses mounted and themselves displayed and to plain fared. Now the first to open the gate of war was King Al–Damigh, who urged his charger between the two opposing armies and displayed himself and played with the swords and the spears, till both hosts were confounded and at him marvelled, after which he cried out, saying, “Who is for jousting? Let no sluggard come out to me nor weakling; for I am Al–Damigh, the King, brother of Kundamir the King.” Then there rushed forth a horseman of the Kafirs, as he were a flame of fire, and crave at Al–Damigh, without word said; but the King received him with a lance thrust in the breast so dour that the point issued from between his shoulders and Allah hurried his soul to the fire, the abiding-place dire. Then came forth a second he slew, and a third he slew likewise, and they ceased not to come out to him and he to slay them, till he had made an end of six-and-seventy fighting-men. Hereupon the Miscreants and men of might hung back and would not encounter him; but Ajib cried out to his men and said, “Fie on you, O folk! if ye all go forth to him, one by one, he will not leave any of you, sitting or standing. Charge on him all at once and cleanse of them our earthly wone and strew their heads for your horses’ hoofs like a plain of stone!” So they waved the ewe striking flag and host was heaped upon host; blood rained in streams upon earth and railed and the Judge of battle ruled, in whose ordinance is no upright. The fearless stood firm on feet in the stead of fight, whilst the faint-heart gave back and took to flight thinking the day would never come to an end nor the curtains of gloom would be drawn by the hand of Night; and they ceased not to battle with swords and to smite till light darkened and murk starkened. Then the kettle- drums of the Infidels beat the retreat, but Gharib, refusing to stay his arms, crave at the Paynimry, and the Believers in Unity, the Moslems, followed him. How many heads and hands they shore, how many necks and sinews they tore, how many knees and spines they mashed and how many grown men and youths they to death bashed! With the first gleam of morning grey the Infidels broke and fled away, in disorder and disarray; and the Moslems followed them till middle-day and took over twenty-thousand of them, whom they brought to their tents in bonds to stay. Then Gharib sat down before the gate of Cufa and commanded a herald to proclaim pardon and protection for every wight who should leave the worship to idols dight and profess the unity of His All-might the Creator of mankind and of light and night. So was made proclamation as he bade in the streets of Cufa and all that were therein embraced the True Faith, great and small; then they issued forth in a body and renewed their Islam before King Gharib, who rejoiced in them with exceeding joy and his breast broadened and he threw off all annoy. Presently he enquired of Mardas and his daughter Mahdiyah, and, being told that he had taken up his abode behind the Red Mountain, he called Sahim and said to him, “Find out for me what is become of thy father.” Sahim mounted steed without stay or delay and set his berry-brown spear in rest and fared on in quest till he reached the Red Mountain, where he sought for his father, yet found no trace of him nor of his tribe; however, he saw in their stead an elder of the Arabs, a very old man, broken with excess of years, and asked him of the folk and whither they were gone. Replied he, “O my son, when Mardas heard of Gharib’s descent upon Cufa he feared with great fear and, taking his daughter and his folk, set out with his handmaids and negroes into the wild and word, and I wot not whither he went.” So Sahim, hearing the Shaykh’s words, returned to Gharib and told him thereof, whereat he was greatly concerned. Then he sat down on his father’s throne and, opening his treasuries, distributed largesse to each and every of his braves. And he took up his abode in Cufa and sent out spies to get news of Ajib. He also summoned the Grandees of the realm, who came and did him homage; as also did the citizens and he bestowed on them sumptuous robes of honour and commended the Ryots to their care. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Gharib, after giving robes of honour to the citizens of Cufa and com mending the Ryots to their care, went out on a day of the days to hunt, with an hundred horse, and fared on till he came to a Wady, abounding in trees and fruits and rich in rills and birds It was a pasturing-place for roes and gazelles, to the spirit a delight whose scents reposed from the langour of fight. They encamped in the valley, for the day was dear and bright, and there passed the night. On the morrow, Gharib made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed the two-bow dawn-prayer, offering up praise and thanks to Almighty Allah; when, lo and behold! there arose a clamour and confusion in the meadows, and he bade Sahim go see what was to do. So Sahim mounted forthright and rode till he espied goods being plundered and horses haltered and women carried off and children crying out. Whereupon he questioned one of the shepherds, saying, “What be all this?”; and they replied, “This is the Harim of Mardas, Chief of the Banu Kahtan, and his good and that of his clan; for yesterday Jamrkan slew Mardas and made prize of his women and children and household stuff and all the belonging of his tribe. It is his wont to go a raiding and to cut off highways and waylay wayfarers and he is a furious tyrant; neither Arabs nor Kings can prevail against him and he is the scourge and curse of the country.” Now when Sahim heard these news of his sire’s slaughter and the looting of his Harim and property, he returned to Gharib and told him the case, wherefore fire was added to his fire and his spirit chafed to wipe out his shame and his blood wit to claim: so he rode with his men after the robbers till he overtook them and fell upon them, crying out and saying, “Almighty Allah upon the rebel, the traitor, the infidel!” and he slew in a single charge one-and-twenty fighting-men. Then he halted in mid-field, with no coward’s heart, and cried out, “Where is Jamrkan? Let him come out to me, that I may make him quaff the cup of disgrace and rid of him earth’s face!” Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when forth rushed Jamrkan, as he were a calamity of calamities or a piece of a mountain, cased in steel. He was a mighty huge1 Amalekite; and he crave at Gharib without speech or salute, like the fierce tyrant he was. And he was armed with a mace of China steel, so heavy, so potent, that had he smitten a hill he had smashed it. Now when he charged, Gharib met him like a hungry lion, and the brigand aimed a blow at his head with his mace; but he evaded it and it smote the earth and sank therein half a cubit deep. Then Gharib took his battle flail and smiting Jamrkan on the wrist, crushed his fingers and the mace dropped from his grasp; whereupon Gharib bent down from his seat in selle and snatching it up, swiftlier than the blinding leven, smote him therewith full on the flat of the ribs, and he fell to the earth like a long-stemmed palm-tree. So Sahim took him and pinioning him, haled him off with a rope, and Gharib’s horsemen fell on those of Jamrkan and slew fifty of them: the rest fled; nor did they cease flying till they reached their tribal camp and raised their voices in clamour; whereupon all who were in the Castle came out to meet them and asked the news. They told the tribe what had passed; and, when they heard that their chief was a prisoner, they set out for the valley vying one with other in their haste to deliver him. Now when King Gharib had captured Jamrkan and had seen his braves take flight, he dismounted and called for Jamrkan, who humbled himself before him, saying, “I am under thy protection, O champion of the Age!” Replied Gharib, “O dog of the Arabs, dost thou cut the road for the servants of Almighty Allah, and fearest thou not the Lord of the Worlds?” “O my master,” asked Jamrkan, “and who is the Lord of the Worlds?” “O dog,” answered Gharib, “and what calamity dost thou worship?” He said, “O my lord, I worship a god made of dates2 kneaded with butter and honey, and at times I eat him and make me another.” When Gharib heard this, he laughed till he fell backwards and said, “O miserable, there is none worship- worth save Almighty Allah, who created thee and created all things and provideth all creatures with daily bread, from whom nothing is hid and He over all things is Omnipotent.” Quoth Jamrkan, “And where is this great god, that I may worship him?” Quoth Gharib, “O fellow, know that this god’s name is Allah — the God — and it is He who fashioned the heavens and the earth and garred the trees to grow and the waters to flow. He created wild beasts and birds and Paradise and Hell-fire and veileth Himself from all eyes seeing and of none being seen. He, and He only, is the Dweller on high. Extolled be His perfection! There is no god but He!” When Jamrkan heard these words, the ears of his heart were opened; his skin shuddered with horripilation and he said, “O my lord, what shall I say that I may become of you and that this mighty Lord may accept of me?” Replied Gharib, “Say, ‘There is no god but the God and Abraham the Friend is the Apostle of God!’” “ So he pronounced the profession of the Faith and was written of the people of felicity. Then quoth Gharib, “ Say me, hast thou tasted the sweetness of Al–Islam?”; and quoth the other, “Yes;” whereupon Gharib cried, “Loose his bonds!” So they unbound him and he kissed ground before Gharib and his feet. Now whilst this was going on, behold, they espied a great cloud of dust that towered till it walled the word. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “tawílan jiddan” a hideous Cairenism in these days; but formerly used by Al–Mas’údí and other good writers.
2 Arab. “ ‘Ajwah,” enucleated dates pressed together into a solid mass so as to be sliced with a knife like cold pudding. The allusion is to the dough-idols of the Hanífah tribe, whose eating their gods made the saturnine Caliph Omar laugh.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Jamrkan islamised and kissed the ground between the hands of Gharib, and, as they were thus, behold, a great cloud of dust towered till it walled the wold and Gharib said to Sahim, “Go and see for us what it be.” So he went forth, like a bird in full flight, and presently returned, saying, “O King of the Age, this dust is of the Banu Amir, the comrades of Jamrkan.” Whereupon quoth Gharib to the new Moslem, “Ride out to thy people and offer to them Al-Islam: an they profess, they shall be saved; but, an they refuse, we will put them to the sword.” So Jamrkan mounted and driving steed towards his tribesmen, cried out to them; and they knew him and dismounting, came up to him on foot and said, “We rejoice in thy safety, O our lord!” Said he, “O folk, whoso obeyeth me shall be saved; but whoso gainsayeth me, I will cut him in twain with this scymitar.” And they made answer, saying, “Command us what thou wilt, for we will not oppose thy commandment.” Quoth he, “Then say with me, ‘There is no god but the God and Abraham is the Friend of God!’ “ They asked, “O our lord, whence haddest thou these words?” And he told them what had befallen him with Gharib, adding, “O folk, know ye not that I am your chief in battle-plain and where men of cut and thrust are fain; and yet a man single-handed me to prisoner hath ta’en and made me the cup of shame and disgrace to drain?” When they heard his speech, they spoke the word of Unity and Jamrkan led them to Gharib, at whose hands they renewed their profession of Al–Islam and wished him glory and victory, after they had kissed the earth before him. Gharib rejoiced in them and said to them, “O folk, return to your people and expound Al–Islam to them;” but all replied, “O our lord, we will never leave thee, whilst; we live; but we will go and fetch our families and return to thee.” And Gharib said, “Go, and join me at the city of Cufa.” So Jamrkan and his comrades returned to their tribal camp and offered Al–Islam to their women and children, who all to a soul embraced the True Faith, after which they dismantled their abodes and struck their tents and set out for Cufa, driving before them their steeds, camels and sheep. During this time Gharib returned to Cufa, where the horsemen met him in state. He entered his palace and sat down on his sire’s throne with his champions ranged on either hand. Then the spies came forwards, and informed him that his brother Ajib had made his escape and had taken refuge with Jaland1 bin Karkar, lord of the city of Oman and land of Al–Yaman; whereupon Gharib cried aloud to his host, “O men, make you ready to march in three days.” Then he expounded Al–Islam to the thirty-thousand men he had captured in the first affair and exhorted them to profess and take service with him. Twenty-thousand embraced the Faith, but the rest refused and he slew them. Then came forward Jamrkan and his tribe and kissed the ground before Gharib, who bestowed on him a splendid robe of honour and made him captain of his vanguard, saying, “O Jamrkan, mount with the Chiefs of thy kith and kin and twenty-thousand horse and fare on before us to the land of Jaland bin Karkar.” “Hearkening and obedience,” answered Jamrkan and, leaving the women and children of the tribe in Cufa, he set forward. Then Gharib passed in review the Harim of Mardas and his eye lit upon Mahdiyah, who was among the women, wherewith he fell down fainting. They sprinkled rose-water on his face, till he came to himself, when he embraced Mahdiyah and carried her into a sitting-chamber, where he sat with her; and they twain lay together that night without fornication. Next morning he went out and sitting down on the throne of his kingship, robed his uncle Al–Damigh with a robe of honour; and appointed him his viceroy over all Al–Irak, commending Mahdiyah to his care, till he should return from his expedition against Ajib; and, when the order was accepted, he set out for the land of Al–Yaman and the City of Oman with twenty-thousand horse and ten thousand foot. Now, when Ajib and his defeated army drew in sight of Oman, King Jaland saw the dust of their approach and sent to find out its meaning, scouts who returned and said, “Verily this is the dust of one hight Ajib, lord of Al–Irak.” And Jaland wondered at his coming to his country and, when assured of the tidings, he said to his officers, “Fare ye forth and meet him.” So they went out and met him and pitched tents for him at the city-gate; and Ajib entered in to Jaland, weeping eyed and heavy-hearted. Now Jaland’s wife was the daughter of Ajib’s paternal uncle and he had children by her; so, when he saw his kinsman in this plight, he asked for the truth of what ailed him and Ajib told him all that had befallen him, first and last, from his brother and said, “O King, Gharib biddeth the folk worship the Lord of the Heavens and forbiddeth them from the service of simulacres and other of the gods.” When Jaland heard these words he raged and revolted and said, “By the virtue of the Sun, Lord of Life and Light, I will not leave one of thy brother’s folk in existence! But where didst thou quit them and how many men are they?” Answered Ajib, “I left them in Cufa and they be fifty-thousand horse.” Whereupon Jaland called his Wazir Jawámard,2 saying, “Take thee seventy-thousand horse and fare to Cufa and bring me the Moslems alive, that I may torture them with all manner of tortures.” So Jawamard departed with his host and fared through the first day and the second till the seventh day, when he came to a Wady abounding in trees and rills and fruits. Here he called a halt — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Mr. Payne writes “Julned.” In a fancy name we must not look for grammar, but a quiescent lám (l) followed by nún (n) is unknown to Arabic while we find sundry cases of “lan” (fath’d lám and nún), and Jalandah means noxious or injurious. In Oman also there was a dynasty called Julándah. for which see Mr. Badger (xiii. and passim).
2 Doubtless for Jawan-mard — un giovane, a brave See vol. iv., p. 208.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Jaland sent Jawamard with his army to Cufa, they came upon a Wady abounding in trees and rills where a halt was called and they rested till the middle of the Night, when the Wazir gave the signal for departure and mounting, rode on before them till hard upon dawn, at which time he descended into a well-wooded valley, whose flowers were fragrant and whose birds warbled on boughs, as they swayed gracefully to and fro, and Satan blew into his sides and puffed him up with pride and he improvised these couplets and cried,
“I plunge with my braves in the seething sea;
Seize the foe in my strength and my valiancy;
And the doughtiest knights wot me well to be
Friend to friend and fierce foe to mine enemy.
I will load Ghanb with the captive’s chains
Right soon, and return in all Joy and glee;
For I’ve donned my mail and my weapons wield
And on all sides charge at the chivalry.”1
Hardly had Jawamard made an end of his verses when there came out upon him from among the trees a horseman of terrible mien covered and clad in steely sheen, who cried out to him, saying, “Stand, O riff-raff of the Arabs! Doff thy dress and ground thine arms gear and dismount thy destrier and be off with thy life!” When Jawamard heard this, the light in his eyes became darkest night and he drew his sabre and drove at Jamrkan, for he it was, saying, “O thief of the Arabs, wilt thou cut the road for me, who am captain of the host of Jaland bin Karkar and am come to bring Gharib and his men in bond?” When Jamrkan heard these words, he said, “How cooling is this to my heart and liver!” And he made at Jawamard versifying in these couplets,
“I’m the noted knight in the field of fight,
Whose sabre and spear every foe affright!
Jamrkan am I, to my foes a fear,
With a lance lunge known unto every knight:
Gharib is my lord, nay my pontiff, my prince,
Where the two hosts dash very lion of might:
An Imam of the Faith, pious, striking awe
On the plain where his foes like the fawn take flight;
Whose voice bids folk to the faith of the Friend,
False, doubling idols and gods despite!”
Now Jamrkan had fared on with his tribesmen ten days’ journey from Cufa city and called a halt on the eleventh day till midnight, when he ordered a march and rode on devancing them till he descended into the valley aforesaid and heard Jawamard reciting his verses. So he crave at him as the driving of a ravening lion, and smiting him with his sword, clove him in twain and waited till his captains came up, when he told them what had passed and said to them. “Take each of you five thousand men and disperse round about the Wady, whilst I and the Banu Amir fall upon the enemy’s van, shouting, Allaho Akbar God is Most Great! When ye hear my slogan, do ye charge them, crying like me upon the Lord, and smite them with the sword.” “We hear and we obey,” answered they and turning back to their braves did his bidding and spread themselves about the sides of the valley in the twilight forerunning the dawn. Presently, lo and behold! up came the army of Al–Yaman, like a flock of sheep, filling plain and steep, and Jamrkan and the Banu Amir fell upon them, shouting, “Allaho Akbar!” till all heard it, Moslems and Miscreants. Whereupon the True Believers ambushed in the valley answered from every side and the hills and mountains responsive cried and all things replied, green and dried, saying, “God is Most Great!,Aidance and Victory to us from on High! Shame to the Miscreants who His name deny!” And the Kafirs were confounded and smote one another with sabres keen whilst the True Believers and pious fell upon them like flames of fiery sheen and naught was seen but heads flying and blood jetting and faint-hearts hieing. By the time they could see one another’s faces, two-thirds of the Infidels had perished and Allah hastened their souls to the fire and abiding-place dire. The rest fled and to the deserts sped whilst the Moslems pursued them to slay and take captives till middle-day, when they returned in triumph with seven thousand prisoners; and but six and twenty-thousand of the Infidels escaped and the most of them wounded. Then the Moslems collected the horses and arms, the loads and tents of the enemy and despatched them to Cufa with an escort of a thousand horse; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Mr. Payne transposes the distichs, making the last first. I have followed the Arabic order finding it in the Mac. and Bul. Edits. (ii. 129).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Jamrkan in his battle with Jawamard slew him and slew his men; and, after taking many prisoners and much money and many horses and loads, sent them with an escort of a thousand riders, to Cufa city. Then he and the army of Al–Islam dismounted and expounded The saving Faith to the prisoners, who made profession with heart and tongue; whereupon they released them from bonds and embraced them and rejoiced in them. Then Jamrkan made his troops, who had swelled to a mighty many, rest a day and a night and marched with the dawn, intending to attack Jaland bin Karkar in the city Of Oman; whilst the thousand horse fared back to Cufa with the loot. When they reached the city, they went in to King Gharib and told him what had passed, whereat he rejoiced and gave them joy and, turning to the Ghul of the Mountain, said, “Take horse with twenty-thousand and follow Jamrkan.” So Sa’adan and his sons mounted and set out, amid twenty-thousand horse for Oman. Meanwhile, the fugitives of the defeated Kafirs reached Oman and went in to Jaland, weeping and crying, “Woe!” and “Ruin!” whereat he was confounded and said to them, “What calamity hath befallen you?” So they told him what had happened and he said, “Woe to you! How many men were they?” They replied, “O King, there were twenty standards, under each a thousand men.” When Jaland heard these words he said, “May the sun pour no blessing on you! Fie upon you! What, shall twenty-thousand overcome you, and you seventy-thousand horse and Jawamard able to withstand three thousand in field of fight?” Then, in the excess of his rage and mortification, he bared his blade and cried out to those who were present, saying, “Fall on them!” So the courtiers drew their swords upon the fugitives and annihilated them to the last man and cast them to the dogs. Then Jaland cried aloud to his son, saying, “Take an hundred thousand horse and go to Al–Irak and lay it waste altogether.” Now this son’s name was Kúraján and there was no doughtier knight in all the force; for he could charge single handed three thousand riders. So he and his host made haste to equip themselves and marched in battle-array, rank following rank, with the Prince at their head, glorying in himself and improvising these couplets,
“I’m Al–Kurajan, and my name is known
To beat all who in wold or in city wone!
How many a soldier my sword at will
Struck down like a cow on the ground bestrown?
How many a soldier I’ve forced to fly
And have rolled their heads as a ball is thrown?
Now I’ll drive and harry the land Irak1
And like rain I’ll shower the blood of fone;
And lay hands on Ghanb and his men, whose doom
To the wise a warning shall soon be shown!”
The host fared on twelve days’ journey and, while they were still marching, behold, a great dust cloud arose before them and walled the horizon and the whole region. So Kurajan sent out scouts, saying, “Go forth and bring me tidings of what meaneth this dust.” They went till they passed under the enemy’s standards and presently returning said, “O King, verily this is the dust of the Moslems.” Whereat he was glad and said, “Did ye count them?” And they answered, “We counted the colours and they numbered twenty.” Quoth he, “By my faith, I will not send one man-at-arms against them, but will go forth to them alone by myself and strew their heads under the horses’ hooves!” Now this was the army of Jamrkan who, espying the host of the Kafirs and seeing them as a surging sea, called a halt; so his troops pitched the tents and set up the standards, calling upon the name of the All-wise One, the Creator of light and gloom, Lord of all creatures, Who seeth while Him none see, the High to infinity, extolled and exalted be He! There is no God but He! The Miscreants also halted and pitched their tents, and Kurajan said to them “Keep on your arms, and in armour sleep, for during the last watch of the night we will mount and trample yonder handful under feet!” Now one of Jamrkan’s spies was standing nigh and heard what Kurajan had contrived; so he returned to the host and told his chief who said to them, “Arm yourselves and as soon as it is Night, bring me all the mules and camels and hang all the bells and clinkets and rattles ye have about their necks.” Now they had with them more than twenty-thousand camels and mules. So they waited till the Infidels fell asleep, when Jamrkan com-mended them to mount, and they rose to ride and on the Lord of the Worlds they relied. Then said Jamrkan, “Drive the camels and mules to the Miscreants’ camp and push them with your spears for goads!” They did as he bade and the beasts rushed upon the enemy’s tents, whilst the bells and clinkets and rattles jangled2 and the Moslems followed at their heels, shouting, “God is Most Great!’’ till all the hills and mountains resounded with the name of the Highmost Deity, to whom belong glory and majesty! The cattle hearing this terrible din, took fright and rushed upon the tents and trampled the folk, as they lay asleep. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Al–Irak like Al–Yaman may lose the article in verse.
2 Arab. “Ka’ka’at”: hence Jabal Ka’ka’án, the higher levels in Meccah, of old inhabited by the Jurhamites and so called from their clashing and jangling arms; whilst the Amalekites dwelt in the lower grounds called Jiyád from their generous steeds. (Pilgrimage iii. 191.)
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Jamrkan fell upon them with his men and steeds and camels, and the camp lay sleeping, the idolaters started up in confusion and, snatching up their arms, fell upon one another with smiting, till the most part was slaughtered. And when the day broke, they looked and found no Moslem slain, but saw them all on horseback, armed and armoured; wherefore they knew that this was a sleight which had been played upon them, and Kurajan cried out to the remnant of his folk, “O sons of whores, what we had a mind to do with them, that have they done with us and their craft hath gotten the better of our cunning.” And they were about to charge when, lo and behold! a cloud of dust rose high and walled the horizon-sky, when the wind smote it, so that it spired aloft and spread pavilion-wise in the lift and there it hung; and presently appeared beneath it the glint of helmet and gleam of hauberk and splendid warriors, baldrick’d with their tempered swords and holding in rest their supple spears. When the Kafirs saw this, they held back from the battle and each army sent out, to know the meaning of this dust, scouts, who returned with the news that it was an army of Moslems. Now this was the host of the Mountain-Ghul whom Gharib had despatched to Jamrkan’s aid, and Sa’adan himself rode in their van. So the two hosts of the True Believers joined company and rushing upon the Paynimry like a flame of fire, plied them with keen sword and Rudaynian spear and quivering lance, what while day was darkened and eyes for the much dust starkened. The valiant stood fast and the faint-hearted coward fled and to the wilds and the words swift sped, whilst the blood over earth was like torrents shed; nor did they cease from fight till the day took flight and in gloom came the night. Then the Moslems drew apart from the Miscreants and returned to their tents, where they ate and slept, till the darkness fled away and gave place to smiling day; when they prayed the dawn prayer and mounted to battle. Now Kurajan had said to his men as they drew off from fight (for indeed two thirds of their number had perished by sword and spear), “O folk, to-morrow, I will champion it in the stead of war where cut and thrust jar, and where braves push and wheel I will take the field.” So, as soon as light was seen and morn appeared with its shine and sheen, took horse the hosts twain and shouted their slogans amain and bared the brand and hent lance in hand and in ranks took stand. The first to open the door of war was Kurajan, who cried out, saying, “Let no coward come out to me this day nor craven!” Whereupon Jamrkan and Sa’adan stood by the colours, but there ran at him a captain of the Banu Amir and the two crave each at other awhile, like two rams butting. Presently Kurajan seized the Moslem by the jerkin under his hauberk and, dragging him from his saddle, dashed him to the ground where he left him; upon which the Kafirs laid hands on him and bound him and bore him off to their tents; whilst Kurajan wheeled about and careered and offered battle, till another captain came out, whom also he took prisoner; nor did he leave to do thus till he had made prize of seven captains before mid day. Then Jamrkan cried out with so mighty a cry, that the whole field made reply and heard it the armies twain, and ran at Kurajan with a heart in rageful pain, improvising these couplets,
“Jamrkan am I! and a man of might,
Whom the warriors fear with a sore affright:
I waste the forts and I leave the walls
To wail and weep for the wights I smite:
Then, O Kurajan, tread the rightful road
And quit the paths of thy foul upright:
Own the One True God, who dispread the skies
And made founts to flow and the hills pegged tight:
An the slave embrace the True Faith, he’ll ’scape
Hell pains and in Heaven be decks and dight!”
When Kurajan heard these words, he sparked and snorted and foully abused the sun and the moon and crave at Jamrkan, versifying with these couplets,
“I’m Kurajan, of this age the knight;
And my shade to the lions of Shara’1 is blight:
I storm the forts and snare kings of beasts
And warriors fear me in field of fight;
Then, Harkye Jamrkan, if thou doubt my word,
Come forth to the combat and try my might!”
When Jamrkan heard these verses, he charged him with a stout heart and they smote each at other with swords till the two hosts lamented for them, and they lunged with lance and great was the clamour between them: nor did they leave fighting till the time of mid-afternoon prayer was passed and the day began to wane. Then Jamrkan crave at Kurajan and smiting him on the breast with his mace,2 cast him to the ground, as he were the trunk of a palm-tree; and the Moslems pinioned him and dragged him off with ropes like a camel. Now when the Miscreants saw their Prince captive, a hot fever-fit of ignorance seized on them and they bore down upon the True Believers thinking to rescue him; but the Moslem champions met them and left most of them prostrate on the earth, whilst the rest turned and sought safety in flight, seeking surer site, while the clanking sabres their back-sides smite. The Moslems ceased not pursuing them till they had scattered them over mount and word, when they returned from them to the spoil; whereof was great store of horses and tents and so forth: good look to it for a spoil! Then Jamrkan went in to Kurajan and expounded to him Al–Islam, threatening him with death unless he embraced the Faith. But he refused; so they cut off his head and stuck it on a spear, after which they fared on towards Oman3 city. But as regards the Kafirs, the survivors returned to Jaland and made known to him the slaying of his son and the slaughter of his host, hearing which he cast his crown to the ground and buffeting his face, till the blood ran from his nostrils, fell fainting to the floor. They sprinkled rose-water on his head, till he came to himself and cried to his Wazir, “Write letters to all my Governors and Nabobs, and bid them leave not a smiter with the sword nor a lunger with the lance nor a bender of the bow, but bring them all to me in one body.” So he wrote letters and despatched them by runners to the Governors, who levied their power and joined the King with a prevailing host, whose number was one hundred and eighty-thousand men. Then they made ready tents and camels and noble steeds and were about to march when, behold, up came Jamrkan and Sa’adan the Ghul, with seventy-thousand horse, as they were lions fierce-faced, all steel-encased. When Jaland saw the Moslems trooping on he rejoiced and said, “By the virtue of the Sun, and her resplendent light, I will not leave alive one of my foes; no, not one to carry the news, and I will lay waste the land of Al–Irak, that I may take my wreak for my son, the havoc making champion bold; nor shall my fire be quenched or cooled!” Then he turned to Ajib and said to him, “O dog of Al–Irak, ‘twas thou broughtest this calamity on us! But by the virtue of that which I worship, except I avenge me of mine enemy I will do thee die after foulest fashion!” When Ajib heard these words he was troubled with sore trouble and blamed himself; but he waited till nightfall, when the Moslems had pitched their tents for rest. Now he had been degraded and expelled the royal camp together with those who were left to him of his suite: so he said to them, “O my kinsmen, know that Jaland and I are dismayed with exceeding dismay at the coming of the Moslems, and I know that he will not avail to protect me from my brother nor from any other; so it is my counsel that we make our escape, whilst all eyes sleep, and flee to King Ya’arub bin Kahtán,4 for that he hath more of men and is stronger of reign.” They, hearing his advice exclaimed “Right is thy rede,” whereupon he bade them kindle fires at their tent-doors and march under cover of the night. They did his bidding and set out, so by daybreak they had already fared far away. As soon as it was morning Jaland mounted with two hundred and sixty-thousand fighting-men, clad cap-à-pie in hauberks and cuirasses and strait-knit mail-coats, the kettle-drums beat a point of war and all drew out for cut and thrust and fight and fray. Then Jamrkan and Sa’adan rode out with forty-thousand stalwart fighting-men, under each standard a thousand cavaliers, doughty champions, foremost in champaign. The two hosts drew out in battles and bared their blades and levelled their limber lances, for the drinking of the cup of death. The first to open the gate of strife was Sa’adan, as he were a mountain of syenite or a Marid of the Jinn. Then dashed out to him a champion of the Infidels, and the Ghul slew him and casting him to the earth, cried out to his sons and slaves, saying, “Light the fire and roast me this dead one.” They did as he bade and brought him the roast and he ate it and crunched whilst the Kafirs stood looking on from afar; and they cried out, “Oh for aid from the light-giving Sun!” and were affrighted at the thought of being slain by Sa’adan. Then Jaland shouted to his men, saying, “Slay me yonder loathsome beast!” Whereupon another captain of his host drove at the Ghul; but he slew him and he ceased not to slay horseman after horseman, till he had made an end of thirty men. With this the blamed Kafirs held back and feared to face him, crying, “Who shall cope with Jinns and Ghuls?” But Jaland raised his voice saying, “Let an hundred horse charge him and bring him to me, bound or slain.” So an hundred horse set upon Sa’adan with swords and spears, and he met them with a heart firmer than flint, proclaiming the unity of the Requiting King, whom no one thing diverteth from other thing. Then he cried aloud, “Allaho Akbar!” and, smiting them with his sword, made their heads fly and in one onset he slew of them four-and-seventy whereupon the rest took to flight. So Jaland shouted aloud to ten of his captains, each commanding a thousand men, and said to them, “Shoot his horse with arrows till it fall under him, and then lay hands on him.” Therewith ten thousand horse drove at Sa’adan who met them with a stout heart; and Jamrkan, seeing this, bore down upon the Miscreants with his Moslems, crying out, “God is Most Great!” Before they could reach the Ghul, the enemy had slain his steed and taken him prisoner; but they ceased not to charge the Infidels, till the day grew dark for dust and eyes were blinded, and the sharp sword clanged while firm stood the valiant cavalier and destruction overtook the faint-heart in his fear; till the Moslems were amongst the Paynims like a white patch on a black bull. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Al–Shara’, a mountain in Arabia.
2 See vol. vi., 249. “This (mace) is a dangerous weapon when struck on the shoulders or unguarded arm: I am convinced that a blow with it on a head armoured with a salade (cassis cælata, a light iron helmet) would stun a man” (says La Brocquière).
3 Oman, which the natives pronounce “Amán,” is the region best known by its capital Maskat. These are the Omana Moscha and Omanum Emporium of Ptolemy and the Periplus. Ibn Batutah writes Ammán, but the best dictionaries give “Oman.” (N.B. — Mr. Badger, p. 1, wrongly derives Sachalitis from “Sawáhíly”: it is evidently “Sáhili.”) The people bear by no means the best character: Ibn Batutah (fourteenth century) says, “their wives are most base; yet, without denying this, their husbands express nothing like jealousy on the subject.” (Lee, p. 62.)
4 The name I have said of a quasi-historical personage, son of Joktan, the first Arabist and the founder of the Tobbá (“successor”) dynasty in Al–Yaman; while Jurham, his brother, established that of Al–Hijaz. The name is probably chosen because well-known.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that battle raged between the Moslems and the Paynims till the True Believers were like a white patch on a black bull. Nor did they stint from the mellay till the darkness fell down, when they drew apart, after there had been slain of the Infidels men without compt. Then Jamrkan and his men returned to their tents; but they were in great grief for Sa’adan, so that neither meat nor sleep was sweet to them, and they counted their host and found that less than a thousand had been slain. But Jamrkan said, “O folk, to- morrow I will go forth into the battle-plain and place where cut and thrust obtain, and slay their champions and make prize of their families after taking them captives and I will ransom Sa’adan therewith’ by the leave of the Requiting King, whom no one thing diverteth from other thing!” Wherefore their hearts were heartened and they joyed as they separated to their tents. Meanwhile Jaland entered his pavilion and sitting down on his sofa of estate, with his folk about him, called for Sa’adan and forthright on his coming, said to him, “O dog run wood and least of the Arab brood and carrier of firewood, who was it slew my son Kurajan, the brave of the age, slayer of heroes and caster down of warriors?” Quoth the Ghul, “Jamrkan slew him, captain of the armies of King Gharib, Prince of cavaliers, and I roasted and ate him, for I was anhungered.” When Jaland heard these words, his eyes sank into his head for rage and he bade his swordbearer smite Sa’adan’s neck. So he came forward in that intent, whereupon Sa’adan stretched himself mightily and bursting his bonds, snatched the sword from the headsman and hewed off his head. Then he made at Jaland who threw himself down from the throne and fled; whilst Sa’adan fell on the bystanders and killed twenty of the King’s chief officers, and all the rest took to flight. Therewith loud rose the crying in the camp of the Infidels and the Ghul sallied forth of the pavilion and falling upon the troops smote them with the sword, right and left, till they opened and left a lane for him to pass; nor did he cease to press forward, cutting at them on either side, till he won free of the Miscreants’ tents and made for the Moslem camp. Now these had heard the uproar among their enemies and said, “Haply some calamity hath befallen them.” But whilst they were in perplexity, behold, Sa adan stood amongst them and they rejoiced at his coming with exceeding joy; more especially Jamrkan, who saluted him with the salam as did other True Believers and gave him joy of his escape. Such was the case with the Moslems; but as regards the Miscreants, when, after the Ghul’s departure, they and their King returned to their tents, Jaland said to them, “Ofolk, by the virtue of the Sun’s light-giving ray and by the darkness of the Night and the light of the Day and the Stars that stray, I thought not this day to have escaped death in mellay; for, had I fallen into yonder fellow’s hands, he had eaten me, as I were a kernel of wheat or a barley corn or any other grain.” They re plied, “O King, never saw we any do the like of this Ghul.” And he said, “O folk, to-morrow do ye all don arms and mount steed and trample them under your horses’ hooves.” Meanwhile the Moslems had ended their rejoicings at Sa’adan’s return and Jamrkan said to them, “To-morrow, I will show you my derring-do and what behoveth the like of me, for by the virtue of Abraham the Friend, I will slay them with the foulest of slaughters and smite them with the bite of the sword, till all who have under standing confounded at them shall stand. But I mean to attack both right and left wings; so, when ye see me drive at the King under the standards, do ye charge behind me with a resolute charge, and Allah’s it is to decree what thing shall be!” Accord ingly the two sides lay upon their arms till the day broke through night and the sun appeared to sight. Then they mounted swiftlier than the twinkling of the eyelid; the raven of the wold croaked and the two hosts, looking each at other with the eye of fascina tion, formed in line-array and prepared for fight and fray. The first to open the chapter of war was Jamrkan who wheeled and careered and offered fight in field; and Jaland and his men were about to charge when, behold, a cloud of dust uprolled till it walled the wold and overlaid the day. Then the four winds smote it and away it floated, torn to rags, and there appeared beneath it cavaliers, with helms black and garb white and many a princely knight and lances that bite and swords that smite and footmen who lion-like knew no affright Seeing this, both armies left fighting and sent out scouts to reconnoitre and report who thus had come in main and might. So they went and within the dust cloud disappeared from sight, and returned after awhile with the news aright that the approaching host was one of Moslems, under the command of King Gharib. When the True Believers heard from the scouts of the coming of their King, they rejoiced and driving out to meet him, dismounted and kissed the earth between his hands — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Moslems saw the presence of their King Gharib, they joyed with exceeding joy; and, kissing the earth between his hands, saluted him and get around him whilst he welcomed them and rejoiced in their safety. Then they escorted him to their camp and pitched pavilions for him and set up standards; and Gharib sat down on his couch of estate, with his Grandees about him; and they related to him all that had befallen, especially to Sa’adan Meanwhile the Kafirs sought for Ajib and finding him not among them nor in their tents, told Jaland of his flight, whereat his Doomsday rose and he bit his fingers, saying, “by the Sun’s light-giving round, he is a perfidious hound and hath fled with his rascal rout to desert ground. But naught save force of hard fighting will serve us to repel these foes; so fortify your resolves and hearten your hearts and beware of the Moslems.” And Gharib also said to the True Believers, “Strengthen your courage and fortify your hearts and seek aid of your Lord, beseeching him to vouchsafe you the victory over your enemies.” They replied, “O King, soon thou shalt see what we will do in battle-plain where men cut and thrust amain.” So the two hosts slept till the day arose with its sheen and shone and the rising sun rained light upon hill and down, when Gharib prayed the two-bow prayer, after the rite of Abraham the Friend (on whom be the Peace!) and wrote a letter, which he despatched by his brother Sahim to the King of the Kafirs. When Sahim reached the enemies’ camp, the guards asked him what he wanted, and he answered them, “I want your ruler.’’1 Quoth they, “Wait till we consult him anent thee;” and he waited, whilst they went in to their Sovran and told him of the coming of a messenger, and he cried, “Hither with him to me!” So they brought Sahim before Jaland, who said to him, “Who hath sent thee?” Quoth he, King Gharib sends me, whom Allah hath made ruler over Arab and Ajam; receive his letter and return its reply.” Jaland took the writ and opening it, read as follows,
“In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate the One, the All-knowing, the supremely Great the Immemorial, the Lord of Noah and Sálih and Húd and Abraham and of all things He made! The Peace be on him who followeth in the way of righteousness and who feareth the issues of frowardness who obeyeth the Almighty King and followeth the Faith saving and preferreth the next world to any present thing! But afterwards: O Jaland, none is worthy of worship save Allah alone, the Victorious, the One, Creator of night and day and the sphere revolving alway Who sendeth the holy Prophets and garreth the streams to flow and the trees to grow, who vaulted the heavens and spread out the earth like a carpet below Who feedeth the birds in their nests and the wild beasts in the deserts for He is Allah the All-powerful, the Forgiving, the Long-suffering, the Protector, whom eye comprehendeth on no wise and who maketh night on day arise He who sent down the Apostles and their Holy Writ. Know, O Jaland, that there is no faith but the Faith of Abraham the Friend; so cleave to the Creed of Salvation and be saved from the biting glaive and the Fire which followeth the grave But, an thou refuse Al–Islam, look for ruin to haste and thy reign to be waste and thy traces untraced And, lastly, send me the dog Ajib hight that I may take from him my father’s and mother’s blood-wit.”
When Jaland had read this letter, he said to Sahim, “Tell thy lord that Ajib hath fled, he and his folk, and I know not whither he is gone; but, as for Jaland, he will not forswear his faith, and to-morrow, there shall be battle between us and the Sun shall give us the victory.” So Sahim returned to his brother with this reply, and when the morning morrowed, the Moslems donned their arms and armour and bestrode their stout steeds, calling aloud on the name of the All-conquering King, Creator of bodies and souls, and magnifying Him with “Allaho Akbar.” Then the kettle-drums of battle beat until earth trembled, and sought the field all the lordly warriors and doughty champions: The first to open the gate of battle was Jamrkan, who crave his charger into mid-plain and played with sword and javelin, till the understanding was amazed; after which he cried out, saying, “Ho! who is for tilting? Ho! who is for fighting? Let no sluggard come out to me to-day nor weakling! I am the slayer of Kurajan bin Jaland; who will come forth to avenge him?” When Jaland heard the name of his son, he cried out to his men, “O whore-sons, bring me yonder horseman who slew my son, that I may eat his flesh and drink his blood.” So an hundred fighting-men charged at Jamrkan, but he slew the most part of them and put their chief to flight; which feat when Jaland saw, he cried out to his folk, “At him all at once and assault him with one assault.” Accordingly they waved the awe-striking banners and host was heaped on host; Gharib rushed on with his men and Jamrkan did the same and the two sides met like two seas together clashing. The Yamáni sword and spear wrought havoc and breasts and bellies were rent, whilst both armies saw the Angel of Death face to face and the dust of the battle rose to the skirts of the sky. Ears went deaf and tongues went dumb and doom from every side came on whilst valiant stood fast and faint-heart fled: and they ceased not from fight and fray till ended the day, when the drums beat the retreat and the two hosts drew apart and returned, each to its tents. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Hákim”: lit. one who orders; often confounded by the unscientific with Hakím, doctor, a philosopher. The latter re-appears in the Heb. Khákhám applied in modern days to the Jewish scribe who takes the place of the Rabbi.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Gharib ended the battle and the two hosts drew apart and each had returned to his own tents, he sat down on the throne of his realm and the place of his reign, whilst his chief officers ranged themselves about him, and he said, “I am sore concerned for the flight of the cur Ajib and I know not whither he has gone. Except I overtake him and take my wreak of him, I shall die of despite.” Whereupon Sahim came forward and kissing the earth before him, said, “O King, I will go to the army of the Kafirs and find out what is come of the perfidious dog Ajib.” Quoth Gharib, “Go, and learn the truth anent the hog.” So Sahim disguised himself in the habit of the Infidels and became as he were of them; then, making for the enemy’s camp, he found them all asleep, drunken with war and battle, and none were on wake save only the guards. He passed on and presently came to the King’s pavilion where he found King Jaland asleep unattended; so he crept up and made him smell and sniff up levigated Bhang and he became as one dead. Then Sahim went out and took a male mule, and wrapping the King in the coverlet of his bed, laid him on its back; after which he threw a mat over him and led the beast to the Moslem camp. Now when he came to Gharib’s pavilion and would have entered, the guards knew him not and prevented him, saying, “Who art thou?’’ He laughed and uncovered his face, and they knew him and admitted him. When Gharib saw him he said, “What bearest there, O Sahim?”; and he replied, “O King, this is Jaland bin Karkar.” Then he uncovered him, and Gharib knew him and said,“Arouse him, O Sahim,” So he made him smell vinegar1 and frankincense; and he cast the Bhang from his nostrils and, opening his eyes, found himself among the Moslems; whereupon quoth he, “What is this foul dream?” and closing his eyelids again, would have slept; but Sahim dealt him a kick, saying, “Open thine eyes, O accursed!” So he opened them and asked, “Where am I?”; and Sahim answered, “Thou art in the presence of King Gharib bin Kundamir, King of Irak.” When Jaland heard this, he said, “O King, I am under thy protection! Know that I am not at fault, but that who led us forth to fight thee was thy brother, and the same cast enmity between us and then fled.” Quoth Gharib, “Knowest thou whither he is gone?”; and quoth Jaland, “No, by the light-giving sun, I know not whither.” Then Gharib bade lay him in bonds and set guards over him, whilst each captain returned to his own tent, and Jamrkan while wending said to his men, “O sons of my uncle, I purpose this night to do a deed wherewith I may whiten my face with King Gharib.” Quoth they, “Do as thou wilt, we hearken to thy commandment and obey it.” Quoth he, “Arm yourselves and, muffling your steps while I go with you, let us fare softly and disperse about the Infidels’ camp, so that the very ants shall not be ware of you; and, when you hear me cry ‘Allaho Akbar,’ do ye the like and cry out, saying, ‘God is Most Great!’ and hold back and make for the city-gate; and we seek aid from the Most High.” So the folk armed themselves cap-à-pie and waited till the noon of Night, when they dispersed about the enemy’s camp and tarried awhile when, lo and behold! Jamrkan smote shield with sword and shouted, “Allaho Akbar’” Thereupon they all cried out the like, till rang again valley and mountain, hills, sands and ruins. The Miscreants awoke in dismay and fell one upon other, and the sword went round amongst them; the Moslems drew back and made for the city-gates, where they slew the warders and entering, made themselves masters of the town with all that was therein of treasure and women. Thus it befel with Jamrkan; but as regards King Gharib, hearing the noise and clamour of “God is Most Great,” he mounted with his troops to the last man and sent on in advance Sahim who, when he came near the field of fight, saw that Jamrkan had fallen upon the Kafirs with the Banu Amir by night and made them drink the cup of death. So he returned and told all to his brother, who called down blessings on Jamrkan. And the Infidels ceased not to smite one another with the biting sword and expending their strength till the day rose and lighted up the land, when Gharib cried out to his men, “Charge, O ye noble, and do a deed to please the All-knowing King!” So the True Believers fell upon the idolaters and plied upon every false hypocritical breast the keen sword and the quivering spear. They sought to take refuge in the city; but Jamrkan came forth upon them with his kinsmen, who hemmed them in between two mountain-ranges, and slew an innumerable host of them, and the rest fled into the wastes and words. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 As has been seen, acids have ever been and are still administered as counter-inebriants, while hot spices and sweets greatly increase the effect of Bhang, opium, henbane, datura &c. The Persians have a most unpleasant form of treating men when dead-drunk with wine or spirits. They hang them up by the heels, as we used to do with the drowned, and stuff their mouths with human ordure which is sure to produce emesis.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Moslem host charged upon the Miscreants they hewed them in pieces with the biting scymitar and the rest fled to the wastes and words; nor did the Moslems cease pursuing them with the sword, till they had scattered them abroad in the plains and stony places. Then they returned to Oman city, and King Gharib entered the palace of the King and, sitting down on the throne of his kingship, with his Grandees and Of ficers ranged right and left, sent for Jaland. They brought him in haste and Gharib ex pounded to him Al–Islam; but he rejected it; wherefore Gharib bade crucify him on the gate of the city, and they shot at him with shafts till he was like unto a porcupine. Then Gharib honourably robed Jamrkan and said to him, “Thou shalt be lord of this city arid ruler thereof with power to loose and to bind therein, for it was thou didst open it with thy sword and thy folk.” And Jamrkan kissed the King’s feet, thanked him and wished him abiding victory and glory and every blessing Morever Gharib opened Jaland’s treasuries and saw what was therein of coin, whereof he gave largesse to his captains and standard bearers and fighting-men, yea, even to the girls and children; and thus he lavished his gifts ten days long. After this, one night he dreamt a terrible dream and awoke, troubled and trembling. So he aroused his brother Sahim and said to him, “I saw in my vision that we were in a wide valley, when there pounced down on us two ravening birds of prey, never in my life saw I greater than they; their legs were like lances, and as they swooped we were in sore fear of them.” Replied Sahim, “O King, this be some great enemy; so stand on thy guard against him.” Gharib slept not the rest of the night and, when the day broke, he called for his courser and mounted. Quoth Sahim, “Whither goest thou, my brother?” and quoth Gharib, “I awoke heavy at heart; so I mean to ride abroad ten days and broaden my breast.” Said Sahim, “Take with thee a thousand braves;” but Gharib replied, “I will not go forth but with thee and only thee.” So the two brothers mounted and, seeking the dales and leasows, fared on from Wady to Wady and from meadow to meadow, till they came to a valley abounding in streams and sweet-smelling flowers and trees laden with all manner eatable fruits, two of each kind. Birds warbled on the branches their various strains; the mocking bird trilled out her sweet notes fain and the turtle filled with her voice the plain. There sang the nightingale, whose chant arouses the sleeper, and the merle with his note like the voice of man and the cushat and the ring-dove, whilst the parrot with its eloquent tongue answered the twain. The valley pleased them and they ate of its fruits and drank of its waters, after which they sat under the shadow of its trees till drowsiness overcame them and they slept, glory be to Him who sleepeth not! As they lay asleep, lo! two fierce Marids swooped down on them and, taking each one on his shoulders, towered with them high in air, till they were above the clouds. So Gharib and Sahim awoke and found themselves betwixt heaven and earth; whereupon they looked at those who bore them and saw that they were two Marids, the head of the one being as that of a dog and the head of the other as that of an ape1 with hair like horses’ tails and claws like lions’ claws, and both were big as great palm-trees. When they espied this case, they exclaimed,, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Now the cause of this was that a certain King of the Kings of the Jinn, hight Mura’ash, had a son called Sá‘ik, who loved a damsel of the Jinn, named Najmah;2 and the twain used to foregather in that Wady under the sem blance of two birds. Gharib and Sahim saw them thus and deeming them birds, shot at them with shafts but wounding only Sa’ik whose blood flowed. Najmah mourned over him; then, fearing lest the like calamity befal herself, snatched up her lover and flew with him to his father’s palace, where she cast him down at the gate. The warders bore him in and laid him before his sire who, seeing the pile sticking in his rib exclaimed, “Alas, my son! Who hath done with thee this thing, that I may lay waste his abiding-place and hurry on his destruction, though he were the greatest of the Kings of the Jann?” Thereupon Sa’ik opened his eyes and said, “O my father, none slew me save a mortal in the Valley of Springs.” Hardly had he made an end of these words, when his soul departed; whereupon his father buffeted his face, till the blood streamed from his mouth, and cried out to two Marids, saying, “Hie ye to the Valley of Springs and bring me all who are therein.” So they betook themselves to the Wady in question, where they found Gharib and Sahim asleep, and, snatching them up, carried them to King Mura’ash.3 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Compare the description of the elephant-faced Vetála (Kathá S.S. Fasc. xi. p. 388).
2 The lover’s name Sá‘ik= the Striker (with lightning); Najmah, the beloved= the star.
3 I have modified the last three lines of the Mac. Edit. which contain a repetition evidently introduced by the carelessness of the copyist.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the two Marids, after snatching up Gharib and Sahim in their sleep, carried them to Mura’ash, king of the Jann, whom they saw seated on the throne of his kinship, as he were a huge mountain, with four heads on his body,1 the first that of a lion, the second that of an elephant, the third that of a panther, and the fourth that of a lynx. The Marids set them down before Mura’ash and said to him, “O King, these twain be they we found in the Valley of Springs.” Thereupon he looked at them with wrathful eyes and sparked and snorted and shot sparks from his nostrils, so that all who stood by feared him. Then said he, “O dogs of mankind, ye have slain my son and lighted fire in my liver.” Quoth Gharib, “Who is thy son, and who hath seen him?” Quoth Mura’ash “Were ye not in the Valley of Springs and did ye not see my son there, in the guise of a bird, and did ye not shoot at him with wooden bolts that he died?” Replied Gharib, “I know not who slew him; and, by the virtue of the Great God, the One, the Immemorial who knoweth things all, and of Abraham the Friend, we saw no bird, neither slew we bird or beast!” Now when Mura’ash heard Gharib swear by Allah and His greatness and by Abraham the Friend, he knew him for a Moslem (he himself being a worshipper of Fire, not of the All-powerful Sire), so he cried out to his folk, “Bring me my Goddess.2” Accordingly they brought a brazier of gold and, setting it before him, kindled therein fire and cast on drugs, whereupon there arose therefrom green and blue and yellow flames and the King and all who were present prostrated themselves before the brazier, whilst Gharib and Sahim ceased not to attest the Unity of Allah Almighty, to cry out “God is Most Great” and to bear witness to His Omnipotence. Presently, Mura’ash raised his head and, seeing the two Princes standing in lieu of falling down to worship, said to them, “O dogs, why do ye not prostrate yourselves?” Replied Gharib, “Out on you, O ye accursed! Prostration befitteth not man save to the Worshipful King, who bringeth forth all creatures into beingness from nothingness and maketh water to well from the barren rockwell, Him who inclineth heart of sire unto new-born scion and who may not be described as sitting or standing; the God of Noah and Salih and Hud and Abraham the Friend, Who created Heaven and Hell and trees and fruit as well,3 for He is Allah, the One, the All-powerful.” When Mura’ash heard this, his eyes sank into his head4 and he cried out to his guards, saying, “Pinion me these two dogs and sacrifice them to my Goddess.” So they bound them and were about to cast them into the fire when, behold, one of the crenelles of the palace parapet fell down upon the brazier and brake it and put out the fire, which became ashes flying in air. Then quoth Gharib, “God is Most Great! He giveth aid and victory and He forsaketh those who deny Him, worshipping Fire and not the Almighty King!” Presently quoth Mura’ash, “Thou art a sorcerer and hast bewitched my Goddess, so that this thing hath befallen her.” Gharib replied, “O madman, an the fire had soul or sense it would have warded off from self all that hurteth it.” When Mura’ash heard these words, he roared and bellowed and reviled the Fire, saying, “By my faith, I will not kill you save by the fire!” Then he bade cast them into gaol; and, calling an hundred Marids, made them bring much fuel and set fire thereto. So they brought great plenty of wood and made a huge blaze, which flamed up mightily till the morning, when Mura’ash mounted an elephant, bearing on its back a throne of gold dubbed with jewels, and the tribes of the Jinn gathered about him in their various kinds. Presently they brought in Gharib and Sahim who, seeing the flaming of the fire, sought help of the One, the All-conquering Creator of night and day, Him of All-might, whom no sight comprehendeth, but who comprehendeth all sights, for He is the Subtle, the All-knowing. And they ceased not humbly beseeching Him till, behold, a cloud arose from West to East and, pouring down showers of rain, like the swollen sea, quenched the fire. When the King saw this, he was affrighted, he and his troops, and entered the palace, where he turned to the Wazirs and Grandees and said to them, “How say ye of these two men?” They replied, “O King, had they not been in the right, this thing had not befallen the fire; wherefore we say that they be true men which speak sooth.” Rejoined Mura’ash, “Verily the Truth hath been displayed to me, ay, and the manifest way, and I am certified that the worship of the fire is false; for, were it goddess, it had warded off from itself the rain which quenched it and the stone which broke its brazier and beat it into ashes. Wherefore I believe in Him Who created the fire and the light and the shade and the heat. And ye, what say ye?” They answered, “O King, we also hear and follow and obey.” So the King called for Gharib and embraced him and kissed him between the eyes and then summoned Sahim; whereupon the bystanders all crowded to kiss their hands and heads. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Hindu Charvakas explain the Triad, Bramha, Vishnu and Shiva, by the sexual organs and upon Vishnu’s having four arms they gloss, “At the time of sexual intercourse, each man and woman has as many.” (Dabistan ii. 202.) This is the Eastern view of Rabelais’ “beast with two backs.”
2 Arab. “Rabbat-i,” my she Lord, fire (nár) being feminine.
3 The prose-rhyme is answerable for this galimatias.
4 A common phrase equivalent to our “started from his head.”
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Mura’ash and his men found salvation in the Saving Faith, Al- Islam, he called for Gharib and Sahim and kissed them between the eyes and so did all the Grandees who crowded to buss their hands and heads. Then Mura’ash sat down on the throne of his kingship and, seating Gharib on his right and Sahim on his left hand, said to them, “O mortals, what shall we say, that we may become Moslems?” Replied Gharib, “Say, ‘There is no god but the God, and Abraham is the Friend of God!’” So the King and his folk professed Al–Islam with heart and tongue, and Gharib abode with them awhile, teaching them the ritual of prayer. But presently he called to mind his people and sighed, whereupon quoth Mura’ash, “Verily, trouble is gone and joy and gladness are come.” Quoth Gharib, “O King, I have many foes and I fear for my folk from them.” Then he related to him his history with his brother Ajib from first to last, and the King of the Jinns said, “O King of men, I will send one who shall bring thee news of thy people, for I will not let thee go till I have had my fill of thy face.” Then he called two doughty Marids, by name Kaylaján and Kúraján, and after they had done him homage, he bade them repair to Al–Yaman and bring him news of Gharib’s army. They replied, “To hear is to obey,” and departed. Thus far concerning the brothers; but as regards the Moslems, they arose in the morning and led by their captains rode to King Gharib’s palace, to do their service to him; but the eunuchs told them that the King had mounted with his brother and had ridden forth at peep o’ day. So they made for the valleys and mountains and followed the track of the Princes, till they came to the Valley of Springs, where they found their arms cast down and their two gallant steeds grazing and said, “The King is missing from this place, by the glory of Abraham the Friend!” Then they mounted and sought in the valley and the mountains three days, but found no trace of them; whereupon they began the mourning ceremonies and, send ing for couriers, said to them, “Do ye disperse yourselves about the cities and sconces and castles, and seek ye news of our King.” “Harkening and obedience!” cried the couriers, who dispersed hither and thither each over one of the Seven Climes and sought everywhere for Gharib, but found no trace of him. Now when the tidings came to Ajib by his spies that his brother was lost and there was no news of the missing, he rejoiced and going in to King Ya’arub bin Kahtan, sought of him aid which he granted and gave him two hundred thousand Amalekites, wherewith he set out for Al–Yaman and sat down before the city of Oman. Jamrkan and Sa’adan sallied forth and offered him battle, and there were slain of the Moslems much folk, so the True Believers retired into the city and shut the gates and manned the walls. At this moment came up the two Marids Kaylajan and Kurajan and, seeing the Moslem beleaguered waited till nightfall, when they fell upon the miscreants and plied them with sharp swords of the swords of the Jinn, each twelve cubits long, if a man smote therewith a rock, verily he would cleave it in sunder. They charged the Idolaters, shouting, “Allaho Akbar! God is Most Great! He giveth aid and victory and forsaketh those who deny the Faith of Abraham the Friend!” and whilst they raged amongst the foes, fire issued from their mouths and nostrils, and they made great slaughter amongst them. Thereupon the Infidels ran out of their tents offering battle but, seeing these strange things, were confounded and their hair stood on end and their reason fled. So they snatched up their arms and fell one upon other, whilst the Marids shore off their heads, as a reaper eareth grain, crying, “God is Most Great! We are the lads of King Gharib, the friend of Mura’ash, King of the Jinn!” The sword ceased not to go round amongst them till the night was half spent, when the Misbelievers, imagining that the mountains were all Ifrits, loaded their tents and treasure and baggage upon camels and made off; and the first to fly was Ajib. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Misbelievers made off and the first to fly was Ajib. Thereupon the Moslems gathered together, marvelling at this that had betided the Infidels and fearing the tribesmen of the Jinn. But the Marids ceased not from pursuit, till they had driven them far away into the hills and words; and but fifty-thousand Rebels1 of two hundred thousand escaped with their lives and made for their own land, wounded and sore discomforted. Then the two Jinns returned and said to them, “O host of the Moslems, your lord King Gharib and his brother Sahim salute you; they are the guests of Mura’ash, King of the Jann, and will be with you anon “ When Gharib’s men heard that he was safe and well, they joyed with exceeding joy and said to the Marids, “Allah gladden you twain with good news, O noble spirits!” So Kurajan and Kaylajan returned to Mura’ash and Gharib; and acquainted them with that which had happened, whereat Gharib finding the two sitting together felt heart at ease and said, “Allah abundantly requite you!” Then quoth King Mura’ash, “O my brother, I am minded to show thee our country and the city of Japhet2 son of Noah (on whom be peace!)” Quoth Gharib, “O King, do what seemeth good to thee.” So he called for three noble steeds and mounting, he and Gharib and Sahim, set out with a thousand Marids, as they were a piece of a mountain cloven lengthwise. They fared on, solacing themselves with the sight of valleys and mountains, till they came to Jabarsá,3 the city of Japhet son of Noah (on whom be peace!) where the townsfolk all, great and small, came forth to meet King Mura’ash and brought them into the city in great state. Then Mura’ash went up to the palace of Japhet son of Noah and sat down on the throne of his kingship, which was of alabaster, ten stages high and latticed with wands of gold wherefrom hung all manner coloured silks. The people of the city stood before him and he said to them, “O seed of Yafis bin Nuh, what did your fathers and grandfathers worship?” They replied, “We found them worshipping Fire and followed their example, as thou well knowest.” “O folk,” rejoined Mura’ash, “we have been shown that the fire is but one of the creatures of Almighty Allah, Creator of all things; and when we knew this, we submitted ourselves to God, the One, the All-powerful, Maker of night and day and the sphere revolving alway, Whom compre hendeth no sight, but Who comprehendeth all sights, for He is the Subtle, the All-wise. So seek ye Salvation and ye shall be saved from the wrath of the Almighty One and from the fiery doom in the world to come.” And they embraced Al–Islam with heart and tongue. Then Mura’ash took Gharib by the hand and showed him the palace and its ordinance and all the marvels it contained, till they came to the armoury, wherein were the arms.of Japhet son of Noah. Here Gharib saw a sword hanging to a pin of gold and asked, “O King, whose is that?” Mura’ash answered, “ ’Tis the sword of Yafis bin Nuh, wherewith he was wont to do battle against men and Jinn. The sage Jardúm forged it and graved on its back names of might.4 It is named Al-Máhík the Annihilator for that it never descendeth upon a man, but it annihilateth him, nor upon a Jinni, but it crusheth him; and if one smote therewith a mountain ‘twould overthrow it.” When Gharib heard tell of the virtues of the sword, he said, “I desire to look on this blade;” and Mura’ash said, “Do as thou wilt.” So Gharib put out his hand, and, hending the sword, drew it from its sheath; whereupon it flashed and Death crept on its edge and glittered; and it was twelve spans long and three broad. Now Gharib wished to become owner of it, and King Mura’ash said, “An thou canst smite with it,take it.” “ ’Tis well,” Gharib replied, and took it up, and it was in his hand as a staff; wherefore all who were present, men and Jinn, marvelled and said, “Well done, O Prince of Knights!” Then said Mura’ash “Lay thy hand on this hoard for which the Kings of the earth sigh in vain, and mount, that I may show thee the city.” Then they took horse and rode forth the palace, with men and Jinns attending them on foot — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Máridúna”=rebels (against Allah and his orders).
2 Arab. Yáfis or Yáfat. He had eleven sons and was entitled Abú al-Turk because this one engendered the Turcomans as others did the Chinese, Scythians, Slaves (Saklab), Gog, Magog, and the Muscovites or Russians. According to the Moslems there was a rapid falling off in size amongst this family. Noah’s grave at Karak (the Ruin) a suburb of Zahlah, in La Brocquière’s “Valley of Noah, where the Ark was built,” is 104 ft. 10 in. Iong by 8 ft. 8 in. broad. (N.B. — It is a bit of the old aqueduct which Mr. Porter, the learned author of the “Giant Cities of Bashan,” quotes as a “traditional memorial of primeval giants”— talibus carduis pascuntur asini!). Nabi Ham measures only 9 ft. 6 in. between headstone and tombstone, being in fact about as long as his father was broad.
3 See Night dcliv., vol. vii, p. 43, infra.
4 According to Turcoman legends (evidently pose-Mohammedan) Noah gave his son, Japhet a stone inscribed with the Greatest Name, and it had the virtue of bringing on or driving off rain. The Moghuls long preserved the tradition and hence probably the sword.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib and King Mura’ash rode forth the palace of Japhet, with men and Jinns attending them on foot, they passed through the streets and thoroughfares of the town, by palaces and deserted mansions and gilded doorways, till they issued from the gates and entered gardens full of trees fruit-bearing and waters welling and birds speaking and celebrating the praises of Him to whom belong Majesty and Eternity; nor did they cease to solace themselves in the land till nightfall, when they returned to the palace of Japhet son of Noah and they brought them the table of food So they ate and Gharib turned to the King of the Jann and said to him, “O King, I would fain return to my folk and my force; for I know not their plight after me.” Replied Mura’ash, “By Allah, O my brother, I will not part with thee for a full month, till I have had my fill of thy sight.” Now Gharib could not say nay, so he abode with him in the city of Japhet, eating and drinking and making merry, till the month ended, when Mura’ash gave him great store of gems and precious ores, emeralds and balass-rubies, diamonds and other jewels, ingots of gold and silver and likewise ambergis and musk and brocaded silks and else of rarities and things of price. Moreover he clad him and Sahim in silken robes of honour gold inwoven and set on Gharib’s head a crown jewelled with pearls and diamonds of inestimable value. All these treasures he made up into even loads for him and, calling five hundred Marids, said to them, “Get ye ready to travel on the morrow, that we may bring King Gharib and Sahim back to their own country.” And they answered, “We hear and we obey.” So they passed the night in the city, purposing to depart on the morrow, but, next morning, as they were about to set forth behold, they espied a great host advancing upon the city, with horses neighing and kettle-drums beating and trumpets braying and riders filling the earth for they numbered threescore and ten thousand Marids, flying and diving, under a King called Barkan. Now this Barkan was lord of the City of Carnelian and the Castle of Gold and under his rule were five hill-strongholds, in each five hundred thousand Marids; and he and his tribe worshipped the Fire, not the Omnipotent Sire. He was a cousin of Mura’ash, the son of his father’s brother, and the cause of his coming was that there had been among the subjects of King Mura’ash a misbelieving Marid, who professed Al–Islam hypocritically, and he stole away from his people and made for the Valley of Carnelian, where he went in to King Barkan and, kissing the earth before him, wished him abiding glory and prosperity. Then he told him of Mura’ash being converted to Al–Islam, and Barkan said, “How came he to tear himself away from his faith1?’’ So the rebel told him what had passed and, when Barkan heard it, he snorted and sparked and railed at Sun and Moon and sparkling Fire, saying, “By the virtue of my faith, I will surely slay mine uncle’s son and his people and this mortal, nor will I leave one of them alive!” Then he cried out to the legions of the Jinn and choosing of them seventy-thousand Marids, set out and fared on till he came to Jabarsá2 the city of Japhet and encamped before its gates. When Mura’ash saw this, he despatched a Marid, saying, “Go to this host and learn all that it wanteth and return hither in haste.” So the messenger rushed away to Barkan’s camp, where the Marids flocked to meet him and said to him, “Who art thou?” Replied he, “An envoy from King Mura’ash;” whereupon they carried him in to Barkan, before whom he prostrated himself, saying, “O my lord, my master hath sent me to thee, to learn tidings of thee.” Quoth Barkan, “Return to thy lord and say to him, ‘This is thy cousin Barkan, who is come to salute thee.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This expresses Moslem sentiment; the convert to Al-Islam being theoretically respected and practically despised. The Turks call him a “Burmá”=twister, a turncoat, and no one either trusts him or believes in his sincerity.
2 The name of the city first appears here: it is found also in the Bul. Edit., vol. ii. p. 132.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Marid-envoy of Mura’ash was borne before Barkan and said to him, “O my lord, my master hath sent me to thee to learn tidings of thee,” Barkan replied, “Return to thy lord and say to him, ‘This is thy cousin Barkan who is come to salute thee!’” So the messenger went back and told Mura’ash, who said to Gharib, “Sit thou on thy throne whilst I go and salute my cousin and return to thee.” Then he mounted and rode to the camp of his uncle’s son. Now this was a trick1 of Barkan, to bring Mura’ash out and seize upon him, and he said to his Marids, whom he had stationed about him, “When ye see me embrace him,2 lay hold of him and pinion him.” And they replied, “To hear is to obey.” So, when King Mura’ash came up and entered Barkan’s pavilion, the owner rose to him and threw his arms round his neck; whereat the Jann fell upon Mura’ash and pinioned him and chained him. Mura’ash looked at Barkan and said, “What manner of thing is this?” Quoth Barkan, “O dog of the Jann, wilt thou leave the faith of thy fathers and grandfathers and enter a faith thou knowest not?” Rejoined Mura’ash, “O son of my uncle, indeed I have found the faith of Abraham the Friend to be the True Faith and all other than it vain.” Asked Barkan, “And who told thee of this?”; and Mura’ash answered, “Gharib, King of Irak, whom I hold in the highest honour.” “By the right of the Fire and the Light and the Shade and the Heat,” cried Barkan, “I will assuredly slay both thee and him!” And he cast him into gaol. Now when Mura’ash’s henchman saw what had befallen his lord, he fled back to the city and told the King’s legionaries who cried out and mounted. Quoth Gharib, “What is the matter?” And they told him all that had passed, whereupon he cried out to Sahim, “Saddle me one of the chargers that King Mura’ash gave me.” Said Sahim, “O my brother, wilt thou do battle with the Jinn?” Gharib replied, “Yes, I will fight them with the sword of Japhet son of Noah, seeking help of the Lord of Abraham the Friend (on whom be the Peace!); for He is the Lord of all things and sole Creator!” So Sahim saddled him a sorrel horse of the horses of the Jinn, as he were a castle strong among castles, and he armed and mounting, rode out with the legions of the Jinn, hauberk’d cap-à-pie. Then Barkan and his host mounted also and the two hosts drew out in lines facing each other. The first to open the gate of war was Gharib, who crave his steed into the mid-field and bared the enchanted blade, whence issued a glittering light that dazzled the eyes of all the Jinn and struck terror to their hearts. Then he played3 with the sword till their wits were wildered, and cried out, saying, “Allaho Akbar! I am Gharib, King of Irak. There is no Faith save the Faith of Abraham the Friend!” Now when Barkan heard Gharib’s words, he said, “This is he who seduced my cousin from his religion; so, by the virtue of my faith, I will not sit down on my throne till I have decapitated this Gharib and suppressed his breath of life and forced my cousin and his people back to their belief: and whoso baulketh me, him will I destroy.” Then he mounted an elephant paper-white as he were a tower plastered with gypsum, and goaded him with a spike of steel which ran deep into his flesh, whereupon the elephant trumpeted and made for the battle-plain where cut and thrust obtain; and, when he drew near Gharib, he cried out to him, saying, “O dog of mankind, what made thee come into our land, to debauch my cousin and his folk and pervert them from one faith to other faith. Know that this day is the last of thy worldly days.” Gharib replied, ‘‘Avaunt,4 O vilest of the Jann!” Therewith Barkan drew a javelin and making it quiver5 in his hand, cast it at Gharib; but it missed him. So he hurled a second javelin at him; but Gharib caught it in mid air and after poising it launched it at the elephant. It smote him on the flank and came out on the other side, whereupon the beast fell to the earth dead and Barkan was thrown to the ground, like a great palm-tree. Before he could stir, Gharib smote him with the flat of Japhet’s blade on the nape of the neck, and he fell upon the earth in a fainting fit; whereupon the Marids swooped down on him and surrounding him pinioned his elbows. When Barkan’s people saw their king a prisoner, they drove at the others, seeking to rescue him, but Gharib and the Islamised Jinn fell upon them and gloriously done for Gharib! indeed that day he pleased the Lord who answereth prayer and slaked his vengeance with the talisman-sword! Whomsoever he smote, he clove him in sunder and before his soul could depart he became a heap of ashes in the fire; whilst the two hosts of the Jinn shot each other with flamy meteors till the battle-field was wrapped in smoke. And Gharib tourneyed right and left among the Kafirs who gave way before him, till he came to King Barkan’s pavilion, with Kaylajan and Kurajan on his either hand, and cried out to them, “Loose your lord!” So they unbound Mura’ash and broke his fetters and —— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “ ‘Amala hílah,” a Syro–Egyptian vulgarism.
2 i.e. his cousin, but he will not use the word.
3 Arab. “La’ab,” meaning very serious use of the sword: we still preserve the old “sword-play.”
4 Arab. “ Ikhsa,” from a root meaning to drive away a dog.
5 Arab. “Hazza-hu,” the quivering motion given to the “Harbak” (a light throw-spear or javelin) before it leaves the hand.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Gharib cried out to Kaylajan and Kurajan, saying, “Loose your lord!”, they unbound Mura’ash and broke his fetters, and he said to them, “Bring me my arms and my winged horse.” Now he had two flying steeds, one of which he had given to Gharib and the other he had kept for himself; and this he mounted after he had donned his battle harness. Then he and Gharib fell upon the enemy, flying through the air on their winged horses, and the true believing Jinn followed them, shouting “Allaho Akbar — God is Most Great!”— till plains and hills, valleys and mountains re-worded the cry. The Infidels fled before them and they returned, after having slain more than thirty thousand Marids and Satans, to the city of Japhet, where the two Kings sat down on their couches of estate and sought Barkan, but found him not; for after capturing him they were diverted from him by stress of battle, where an Ifrit of his servants made his way to him and loosing him, carried him to his folk, of whom he found part slain and the rest in full flight. So he flew up with the King high in air and sat him down in the City of Carnelian and Castle of Gold, where Barkan seated himself on the throne of his kingship. Presently, those of his people who had survived the affair came in to him and gave him joy of his safety; and he said, “O folk, where is safety? My army is slain and they took me prisoner and have rent in pieces mine honour among the tribes of the Jann.” Quoth they, “O King, ’tis ever thus that kings still afflict and are afflicted.” Quoth he, “There is no help but I take my wreak and wipe out my shame, else shall I be for ever disgraced among the tribes of the Jann.” Then he wrote letters to the Governors of his fortresses, who came to him right loyally and, when he reviewed them, he found three hundred and twenty-thousand fierce Marids and Satans, who said to him, “What is thy need?” And he replied, “Get ye ready to set out in three days’ time;” whereto they rejoined “Harkening and obedience!” On this wise it befel King Barkan; but as regards Mura’ash, when he discovered his prisoner’s escape, it was grievous to him and he said, “Had we set an hundred Marids to guard him, he had not fled; but whither shall he go from us?” Then said he to Gharib, “Know, O my brother, that Barkan is perfidious and will never rest from wreaking blood-revenge on us, but will assuredly assemble his legions and return to attack us; wherefore I am minded to forestall him and follow the trail of his defeat, whilst he is yet weakened thereby.” Replied Gharib, “This is the right rede and will best serve our need;” and Mura’ash, said, “Oh my brother, let the Marids bear thee back to thine own country and leave me to fight the battles of the Faith against the Infidels, that I may be lightened of my sin-load.” But Gharib rejoined “By the virtue of the Clement, the Bountiful, the Veiler, I will not go hence till I do to death all the misbelieving Jinn; and Allah hasten their souls to the fire and dwelling-place dire; and none shall be saved but those who worship Allah the One the Victorious! But do thou send Sahim back to the city of Oman, so haply he may be healed of his ailment.” For Sahim was sick. So Mura’ash cried to the Marids, saying, “Take ye up Sahim and these treasures and bear them to Oman city.” And after replying, “We hear and we obey,” they took them and made for the land of men. Then Mura’ash wrote letters to all his Governors and Captains of fortresses and they came to him with an hundred and sixty-thousand warriors. So they made them ready and departed for the City of Carnelian and the Castle of Gold, covering in one day a year’s journey and halted in a valley, where they encamped and passed the night. Next morning as they were about to set forth, behold, the vanguard of Barkan’s army appeared, whereupon the Jinn cried out and the two hosts met and fell each upon other in that valley. Then the engagement was dight and there befel a sore fight as though an earthquake shook the site and fair plight waxed foul plight. Earnest came and jest took flight, and parley ceased ‘twixt wight and wight,1 whilst long lives were cut short in a trice and the Unbelievers fell into disgrace and despite; for Gharib charged them, proclaiming the Unity of the Worshipful, the All-might and shore through necks and left heads rolling in the dust; nor did night betide before nigh seventy thousand of the Miscreants were slain, and of the Moslemised over ten thousand Marids had fallen Then the kettle-drums beat the retreat, and the two hosts drew apart — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased Baying her permitted say.
1 Here the translator must either order the sequence of the sentences or follow the rhyme.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the two hosts drew apart, Gharib and Mura’ash returned to their tents, after wiping their weapons, and supper being set before them, they ate and gave each other joy of their safety, and the loss of their Marids being so small. As for Barkan, he returned to his tent, grieving for the slaughter of his champions, and said to his officers, “O folk, an we tarry here and do battle with them on this wise in three days’ time we shall be cut off to the last wight.” Quoth they, “And how shall we do, O King?” Quoth Barkan, “We will fall upon them under cover of night whilst they are deep in sleep, and not one of them shall be left to tell the tale. So take your arms and when I give the word of command, attack and fall on your enemies as one.” Now there was amongst them a Marid named Jandal whose heart inclined to Al–Islam; so, when he heard the Kafirs’ plot, he stole away from them and going in to King Mura’ash and King Gharib, told the twain what Barkan had devised; whereupon Mura’ash turned to Gharib and said to him, “O my brother, what shall we do?” Gharib replied, “To-night we will fall upon the Miscreants and chase them into the wilds and the words if it be the will of the Omnipotent King.” Then he summoned the Captains of the Jann and said to them, “Arm yourselves, you and yours; and, as soon as ’tis dark, steal out of your tents on foot, hundreds after hundreds, and lie in ambush among the mountains; and when ye see the enemy engaged among the tents, do ye fall upon them from all quarters. Hearten your hearts and rely on your Lord, and ye shall certainly conquer; and behold, I am with you!” So, as soon as it was dark Night, the Infidels attacked the camp, invoking aid of the fire and light; but when they came among the tents, the Moslems fell upon them, calling for help on the Lord of the Worlds and saying, “O Most Merciful of Mercifuls, O Creator of all createds!” till they left them like mown grass, cut down and dead. Nor did morning dawn before the most part of the unbelievers were species without souls and the rest made for the wastes and marshes, whilst Gharib and Mura’ash returned triumphant and victorious; and, making prize of the enemy’s baggage, they rested till the morrow, when they set out for the City of Carnelian and Castle of Gold. As for Barkan, when the battle had turned against him and most of his lieges were slain, he fled through the dark with the remnant of his power to his capital where he entered his palace and assembling his legionaries said to them, “O folk, whoso hath aught of price, let him take it and follow me to the Mountain Káf, to the Blue King, lord of the Pied Palace; for he it is who shall avenge us.” So they took their women and children and goods and made for the Caucasus mountain. Presently Mura’ash and Gharib arrived at the City of Carnelian and Castle of Gold to find the gates open and none left to give them news; whereupon they entered and Mura’ash led Gharib that he might show him the city, whose walls were builded of emeralds and its gates of red carnelian, with studs of silver, and the terrace-roofs of its houses and mansions reposed upon beams of lign aloes and sandle-wood. So they took their pleasure in its streets and alleys, till they came to the Palace of Gold and entering passed through seven vestibules, when they drew near to a building, whose walls were of royal balass rubies and its pavement of emerald and jacinth. The two Kings were astounded at the goodliness of the place and fared on from vestibule to vestibule, till they had passed through the seventh and happened upon the inner court of the palace wherein they saw four daises, each different from the others, and in the midst a jetting fount of red gold, compassed about with golden lions,1 from whose mouths issued water. These were things to daze man’s wit. The estrade at the upper end was hung and carpeted with brocaded silks of various colours and thereon stood two thrones of red gold, inlaid with pearls and jewels. So Mura’ash and Gharib sat down on Barkan’s thrones and held high state in the Palace of Gold. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Possibly taken from the Lions’ Court in the Alhambra=(Dár) Al-hamrá, the Red House.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Mura’ash and Gharib took seat on Barkan’s thrones and held high state. Then said Gharib to Mura’ash, “What thinkest thou to do?” And Mura’ash replied, “O King of mankind, have despatched an hundred horse to learn where Barkan is, that we may pursue him.” Then they abode three days in the palace, the scouting Marids returned with the news that Barkan had fled to the Mountain Kaf and craved protection of the Blue King who granted it; whereupon quoth Mura’ash to Gharib, “What sayest thou, O my brother?” and quoth Gharib, “Except we attack them they will attack us.” So they bade the host make ready for departure and after three days, they were about to set out with their troops, when the Marids, who had carried Sahim and the presents back to Oman, returned and kissed ground before Gharib. He questioned them of his people and they replied, “After the last affair, thy brother Ajib, leaving Ya’arub bin Kahtan, fled to the King of Hind and, submitting his case, sought his protection. The King granted his prayer and writing letters to all his governors, levied an army as it were the surging sea, having neither beginning nor end, wherewith he purposeth to invade Al–Irak and lay it waste.” When Gharib heard this, he said, “Perish the Misbelievers! Verily, Allah Almighty shall give the victory to Al–Islam and I will soon show them hew and foin.” Said Mura’ash, “O King of humans, by the virtue of the Mighty Name, I must needs go with thee to thy kingdom and destroy thy foes and bring thee to thy wish.” Gharib thanked him and they rested on this resolve till the morrow, when they set out, intending for Mount Caucasus and marched many days till they reached the City of Alabaster and the Pied Palace. Now this city was fashioned of alabaster and precious stones by Bárik bin Fáki’, father of the Jinn, and he also founded the Pied Palace, which was so named because edified with one brick of gold alternating with one of silver, nor was there builded aught like it in all the world. When they came within half a day’s journey of the city, they halted to take their rest, and Mura’ash sent out to reconnoitre a scout who returned and said, “O King, within the City of Alabaster are legions of the Jinn, for number as the leaves of the trees or as the drops of rain.” So Mura’ash said to Gharib, “How shall we do, O King of Mankind?” He replied, “O King, divide your men into four bodies and encompass with them the camp of the Infidels; then, in the middle of the Night, let them cry out, saying, ‘God is Most Great!’ and withdraw and watch what happeneth among the tribes of the Jinn.” So Mura’ash did as Gharib counselled and the troops waited till midNight, when they encircled the foe and shouted “Allaho Akbar! Ho for the Faith of Abraham the Friend, on whom be the Peace!” The Misbelievers at this cry awoke in affright and snatching up their arms, fell one upon other till the morning, when most part of them were dead bodies and but few remained. Then Gharib cried out to the True Believers, saying, “Up and at the remnant of the Kafirs! Behold I am with you, and Allah is your helper!” So the Moslems crave at the enemy and Gharib bared his magical blade Al–Mahik and fell upon the foe, lopping off noses and making heads wax hoary and whole ranks turn tail. At last be came up with Barkan and smote him and bereft him of life and he fell down, drenched in his blood. On like wise he did with the Blue King, and by undurn-hour not one of the Kafirs was left alive to tell the tale. Then Gharib and Mura’ash entered the Pied Palace and found its walls builded of alternate courses of gold and silver, with door-sills of crystal and keystones of greenest emerald. In its midst was a fountain adorned with bells and pendants and figures of birds and beasts spouting forth water, and thereby a daïs1 furnished with gold-brocaded silk, bordered or embroidered with jewels: and they found the treasures of the palace past count or description. Then they entered the women’s court, where they came upon a magnificent serraglio and Gharib saw, among the Blue King’s woman-folk a girl clad in a dress worth a thousand dinars, never had he beheld a goodlier. About her were an hundred slave-girls, upholding her train with golden hooks, and she was in their midst as the moon among stars. When he saw her, his reason was confounded and he said to one of the waiting-women, “Who may be yonder maid?” Quoth they, “This is the Blue King’s daughter, Star o’ Morn.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sházarwán” from Pers. Shadurwán, a palace, cornice, etc. That of the Meccan Ka’abah is a projection of about a foot broad in pent-house shape sloping downwards and two feet above the granite pavement: its only use appears in the large brass rings welded into it to hold down the covering. There are two breaks in it, one under the doorway and the other opposite Ishmael’s tomb; and pilgrims are directed during circuit to keep the whole body outside it.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib asked the slave women saying, “Who may be yonder maid,” they replied, “This is Star o’ Morn, daughter to the Blue King.” Then Gharib turned to Mura’ash and said to him, “O King of the Jinn, I have a mind to take yonder damsel to wife.” Replied Mura’ash, “The palace and all that therein is, live stock and dead, are the prize of thy right hand; for, hadst thou not devised a stratagem to destroy the Blue King and Barkan, they had cut us off to the last one: wherefore the treasure is thy treasure and the folk thy thralls.” Gharib thanked him for his fair speech and going up to the girl, gazed steadfastly upon her and loved her with exceeding love, forgetting Fakhr Taj the Princess and even Mahdiyah. Now her mother was the Chinese King’s daughter whom the Blue King had carried off from her palace and perforce deflowered, and she conceived by him and bare this girl, whom he named Star o’ Morn, by reason of her beauty and loveliness; for she was the very Princess of the Fair. Her mother died when she was a babe of forty days, and the nurses and eunuchs reared her, till she reached the age of seventeen; but she hated her sire and rejoiced in his slaughter. So Gharib put his palm to hers1 and went in unto her that night and found her a virgin. Then he bade pull down the Pied Palace and divided the spoil with the true-believing Jinn, and there fell to his share one-and-twenty thousand bricks of gold and silver and money and treasure beyond speech and count. Then Mura’ash took Gharib and showed him the Mountain Kaf and all its marvels; after which they returned to Barkan’s fortress and dismantled it and shared the spoil thereof. Then they repaired to Mura’ash’s capital, where they tarried five days, when Gharib sought to revisit his native country and Mura’ash said, “O King of mankind, I will ride at thy stirrup and bring thee to thine own land.” Replied Gharib, “No, by the virtue of Abraham the Friend, I will not suffer thee to weary thyself thus, nor will I take any of the Jinn save Kaylajan and Kurajan.” Quoth the King, “Take with thee ten thousand horsemen of the Jinn, to serve thee;” but quoth Gharib, “I will take only as I said to thee.” So Mura’ash bade a thousand Marids carry him to his native land, with his share of the spoil; and he commanded Kaylajan and Kurajan to follow him and obey him; and they answered, “Hearkening and obedience.” Then said Gharib to the Marids, “Do ye carry the treasure and Star o’ Morn;” for he himself thought to ride his flying steed. But Mura’ash said to him, “This horse, O my brother, will live only in our region, and, if it come upon man’s earth, ‘twill die: but I have in my stables a sea-horse, whose fellow is not found in Al–Irak, no, nor in all the world is its like.” So he caused bring forth the horse, and when Gharib saw it, it interposed between him and his wits.2 Then they bound it and Kaylajan bore it on his shoulders and Kurajan took what he could carry. And Mura’ash embraced Gharib and wept for parting from him, saying, “O my brother, if aught befal thee wherein thou art powerless, send for me and I will come to thine aid with an army able to lay waste the whole earth and what is thereon.” Gharib thanked him for his kindness and zeal for the True Faith and took leave of him; whereupon the Marids set out with Gharib and his goods; and, after traversing fifty years’ journey in two days and a Night, alighted near the city of Oman and halted to take rest. Then Gharib sent out Kaylajan, to learn news of his people, and he returned and said, “O King, the city is beleaguered by a host of Infidels, as they were the surging sea, and thy people are fighting them. The drums beat to battle and Jamrkan goeth forth as champion in the field.” When Gharib heard this, he cried aloud, “God is Most Great!” and said to Kaylajan, “Saddle me the steed and bring me my arms and spear; for to-day the valiant shall be known from the coward in the place of war and battle-stead.” So Kaylajan brought him all he sought and Gharib armed and belting in baldrick Al–Mahik, mounted the sea horse and made toward the hosts. Quoth Kaylajan and Kurajan to him, Set thy heart at rest and let us go to the Kafirs and scatter them abroad in the wastes and wilds till, by the help of Allah, the All-powerful, we leave not a soul alive, no, not a blower of the fire.” But Gharib said “By the virtue of Abraham the [Friend, I will not let you fight them without me and behold, I mount!” Now the cause of the coming of that great host was right mar vellous.3 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib had bidden Kaylajan go and learn news of his people, the Jinn fared forth and presently returning said, “Verily around thy city is a mighty host!” Now the cause of its coming was that Ajib, having fled the field after Ya’arub’s army had been put to the rout, said to his people, “O folk, if we return to Ya’arub bin Kahtan, he will say to us, ‘But for you, my son and my people had not been slain; and he will put us to death, even to the last man.’ Wherefore, methinks we were better go to Tarkanán, King of Hind, and beseech him to avenge us.” Replied they, “Come, let us go thither; and the blessing of the Fire be upon thee!” So they fared days and nights till they reached King Tarkanan’s capital city and, after asking and obtaining permission to present himself, Ajib went in to him and kissed ground before him. Then he wished him what men use to wish to monarchy and said to him, “O King, protect me, so may protect thee the sparkling Fire and the Night with its thick darkness!” Tarkanan looked at Ajib and asked, “Who art thou and what dost thou want?”; to which the other answered, “I am Ajib King of Al–Irak; my brother hath wronged me and gotten the mastery of the land and the subjects have submitted themselves to him. Moreover, he hath embraced the faith of Al–Islam and he ceaseth not to chase me from country to country; and behold, I am come to seek protection of thee and thy power.” When Tarkanan heard Ajib’s words, he rose and sat down and cried, “By the virtue of the Fire, I will assuredly avenge thee and will let none serve other than my goddess the Fire!” And he called aloud to his son, saying, “O my son, make ready to go to Al–Irak and lay it waste and bind all who serve aught but the Fire and torment them and make example of them; yet slay them not, but bring them to me, that I may ply them with various tortures and make them taste the bitterness of humiliation and leave them a warning to whoso will be warned in this our while.” Then he chose out to accompany him eighty-thousand fighting-men on horseback and the like number on giraffes,1 besides ten thousand elephants, bearing on their backs seats2 of sandal-wood, latticed with golden rods, plated and studded with gold and silver and shielded with pavoises of gold and emerald; moreover he sent good store of war-chariots, in each eight men fighting with all kinds of weapons. Now the Prince’s name was Ra’ad Sháh,3 and he was the cham pion of his time, for prowess having no peer. So he and his army equipped them in ten days’ time, then set out, as they were a bank of clouds, and fared on two months’ journey, till they came upon Oman city and encompassed it, to the joy of Ajib, who thought himself assured of victory. Jamrkan and Sa’adan and all their fighting-men sallied forth into the field of fight whilst the kettle-drums beat to battle and the horses neighed. At this moment up came King Gharib, who, as we have said, had been warned by Kaylajan; and he urged on his destrier and entered among the Infidels waiting to see who should come forth and open the chapter of war. Then out rushed Sa’adan the Ghul and offered combat, whereupon there issued forth to him one of the champions of Hind; but Sa’adan scarce let him take stand in front ere he smote him with his mace and crushed his bones and stretched him on the ground; and so did he with a second and a third, till he had slain thirty fighting-men. Then there dashed out at him an Indian cavalier, by name Battásh al-Akrán,4 uncle to King Tarkanan and of his day the doughtiest man, reckoned worth five thousand horse in battle-plain and cried out to Sa’adan, saying, “O thief of the Arabs, hath thy daring reached that degree that thou shouldst slay the Kings of Hind and their champions and capture their horsemen? But this day is the last of thy worldly days.” When Sa’adan heard these words, his eyes waxed blood-red and he crave at Battash and aimed a stroke at him with his club; but he evaded it and the force of the blow bore Sa’adan to the ground; and before he could recover himself, the Indians pinioned him and haled him off to their tents. Now when Jamrkan saw his comrade a prisoner, he cried out, saying, “Ho for the Faith of Abraham the Friend!” and clapping heel to his horse, ran at Battash. They wheeled about awhile, till Battash charged Jamrkan and catching him by his jerkin5 tare him from his saddle and cast him to the ground; whereupon the Indians bound him and dragged him away to their tents. And Battash ceased not to overcome all who came out to him, Captain after Captain till he had made prisoners of four-and-twenty Chiefs of the Moslems, whereat the True Believers were sore dismayed. When Gharib saw what had befallen his braves, he drew from beneath his knee6 a mace of gold weighing six-score pounds which had belonged to Barkan King of the Jann — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zarráf” (whence our word) from “Zarf”=walking hastily: the old “cameleopard” which originated the nursery idea of its origin. It is one of the most timid of the antelope tribe and unfit for riding.
2 Arab. “Takht,” a useful word, meaning even a saddle. The usual term is “Haudaj”=the Anglo Indian “howdah.”
3 “Thunder–King,” Arab. and Persian.
4 i.e. “He who violently assaults his peers” (the best men of the age). Batshat al — Kubrá=the Great Disaster, is applied to the unhappy “Battle of Bedr” (Badr) on Ramazan 17, A.H. 2 (=Jan. 13, 624) when Mohammed was so nearly defeated that the Angels were obliged to assist him (Koran, chapts. iii. 11; i. 42; viii. 9). Mohammed is soundly rated by Christian writers for beheading two prisoners Utbah ibn Rabí‘a who had once spat on his face and Nazir ibn Háris who recited Persian romances and preferred them to the “foolish fables of the Koran.” What would our forefathers have done to a man who spat in the face of John Knox and openly preferred a French play to Pentateuch?
5 Arab. “Jilbáb” either habergeon (mail-coat) or the buff-jacket worn under it.
6 A favourite way, rough and ready, of carrying light weapons, often alluded to in The Nights. So Khusrawán in Antar carried “under his thighs four small darts, each like a blazing flame.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib beheld what had befallen his braves he drew forth a golden mace which had belonged to Barkan King of the Jann and clapped heel to his sea horse, which bore him like the wind gust into mid-field. Then he let drive at Battash, crying out, “God is Most Great! He giveth aid and victory and He abaseth whoso reject the Faith of Abraham the Friend!” and smote him with the mace, whereupon he fell to the ground and Gharib, turning to the Moslems, saw his brother Sahim and said to him, “Pinion me this hound.” When Sahim heard his brother’s words, he ran to Battash and bound him hard and fast and bore him off, whilst the Moslem braves wondered who this knight could be and the Indians said one to other, “Who is this horseman which came out from among them and hath taken our Chief prisoner?” Meanwhile Gharib continued to offer battle and there issued forth to him a captain of the Hindis whom he felled to earth with his mace, and Kaylajan and Kurajan pinioned him and delivered him over to Sahim; nor did Gharib leave to do thus, till he had taken prisoner two-and-fifty of the doughtiest Captains of the army of Hind. Then the day came to an end and the kettle-drums beat the retreat; whereupon Gharib left the field and rode towards the Moslem camp. The first to meet him was Sahim, who kissed his feet in the stirrups and said, “May thy hand never wither, O champion of the age! Tell us who thou art among the braves.” So Gharib raised his vizor of mail and Sahim knew him and cried out, saying, “This is your King and your lord Gharib, who is come back from the land of the Jann!” When the Moslems heard Gharib ‘s name, they threw themselves off their horses’ backs, and, crowding about him, kissed his feet in the stirrups and saluted him, rejoicing in his safe return. Then they carried him into the city of Oman, where he entered his palace and sat down on the throne of his kingship, whilst his officers stood around him in the utmost joy. Food was set on and they ate, after which Gharib related to them all that had betided him with the Jinn in Mount Kaf, and they marvelled thereat with exceeding marvel and praised Allah for his safety. Then he dismissed them to their sleeping places; so they withdrew to their several lodgings, and when none abode with him but Kaylajan and Kurajan, who never left him, he said to them, “Can ye carry me to Cufa that I may take my pleasure in my Harim, and bring me back before the end of the night?” They replied, “O our lord, this thou askest is easy.” Now the distance between Cufa and Oman is sixty days’ journey for a diligent horseman, and Kaylajan said to Kurajan, “I will carry him going and thou coming back.” So he took up Gharib and flew off with him, in company with Kurajan; nor was an hour past before they set him down at the gate of his palace, in Cufa. He went in to his uncle Al-Damigh, who rose to him and saluted him; after which quoth Gharib, “How is it with my wives Fakhr Taj1 and Mahdiyah?” Al–Damigh answered, “They are both well and in good case.” Then the eunuch went in and acquainted the women of the Harim with Gharib’s coming, whereat they rejoiced and raised the trill of joy and gave him the reward for good news. Presently in came King Gharib, and they rose and saluting him, conversed with him, till Al-Damigh entered, when Gharib related to them all that had befallen him in the land of the Jinn, whereat they all marvelled. Then he lay with Fakhr Taj till near daybreak, when he took leave of his wives and his uncle and mounted Kurajan’s back, nor was the darkness dispelled before the two Marids set him down in the city of Oman. Then he and his men armed and he bade open the gates when, behold, up came a horseman from the host of the Indians, with Jamrkan and Sa’adan and the rest of the captive captains whom he had delivered, and committed them to Gharib. The Moslems, rejoicing in their safety, donned their mails and took horse, while the kettle-drums beat a point of war; and the Miscreants also drew up in line. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Mr. Payne very reasonably supplants here and below Fakhr Taj (who in Night dcxxxiv is left in her father’s palace and who is reported to be dead in Night dclxvii.) by Star o’ Morn. But the former is also given in the Bul. Edit. (ii. 148), so the story teller must have forgotten all about her. I leave it as a model specimen of Eastern incuriousness.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Moslem host mounted and rode to the plain of cut and thrust, the first to open the door of war was King Gharib who, drawing his sword Al–Mahik, drove his charger between the two ranks and cried out, saying, “Whoso knoweth me hath enough of my mis chief and whoso unknoweth me, to him I will make myself known. I am Gharib, King of Al–Irak and Al–Yaman, brother of Ajib.” When Ra’ad Shah, son of the King of Hind, heard this, he shouted to his captains, “Bring me Ajib.” So they brought him and Ra’ad Shah said to him, “Thou wottest that this quarrel is thy quarrel and thou art the cause of all this slaughter. Now yonder standeth thy brother Gharib amiddle-most the fightfield and stead where sword and spear we shall wield; go thou to him and bring him to me a prisoner, that I may set him on a camel arsy-versy, and make a show of him and carry him to the land of Hind.” Answered Ajib, “O King, send out to him other than I, for I am in ill-health this morning.” But Ra’ad Shah sparked and snorted and cried, “By the virtue of the sparkling Fire and the light and the shade and the heat, unless thou fare forth to thy brother and bring him to me in haste, I will cut off thy head and make an end of thee.” So Ajib took heart and urging his horse up to his brother in mid-field, said to him, “O dog of the Arabs and vilest of all who hammer down tent pegs, wilt thou contend with Kings? Take what to thee cometh and receive the glad tidings of thy death.” When Gharib heard this, he said to him, “Who art thou among the Kings? And Ajib answered, saying, “I am thy brother, and this day is the last of thy worldly days.” Now when Gharib was assured that he was indeed his brother Ajib, he cried out and said, “Ho, to avenge my father and mother!” Then giving his sword to Kaylajan,1 he crave at Ajib and smote him with his mace a smashing blow and a swashing, that went nigh to beat in his ribs, and seizing him by the mail gorges tore him from the saddle and cast him to the ground; whereupon the two Marids pounced upon him and binding him fast, dragged him off dejected and abject; whilst Gharib rejoiced in the capture of his enemy and repeated these couplets of the poet,
“I have won my wish and my need have scored
Unto Thee be the praise and the thanks, O our Lord!
I grew up dejected and abject; poor,
But Allah vouchsafed me all boons implored:
I have conquered countries and mastered men
But for Thee were I naught, O thou Lord
adored!”
When Ra’ad Shah saw how evilly Ajib fared with his brother, he called for his charger and donning his harness and habergeon, mounted and dashed out a field. As soon as he drew near King Gharib, he cried out at him, saying, “O basest of Arabs and bearer of scrubs,2 who art thou, that thou shouldest capture Kings and braves? Down from thy horse and put elbows behind back and kiss my feet and set my warriors free and go with me in bond of chains to my reign that I may pardon thee and make thee a Shayth in our own land, so mayst thou eat there a bittock of bread.” When Gharib heard these words he laughed till he fell backwards and answered, saying, “O mad hound and mangy wolf, soon shalt thou see against whom the shifts of Fortune will turn!” Then he cried out to Sahim, saying, “Bring me the prisoners; so he brought them, and Gharib smote off their heads whereupon Ra’ad Shah crave at him, with the driving of a lordly champion and the onslaught of a fierce slaughterer and they falsed and feinted and fought till nightfall, when the kettle-drums beat the retreat. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 There is some chivalry in his unwillingness to use the magical blade. As a rule the Knights of Romance utterly ignore fair play and take every dirty advantage in the magic line that comes to hand.
2 Arab. “Hammál al-Hatabi”=one who carries to market the fuel-sticks which he picks up in the waste. In the Koran (chaps. cxi.) it is applied to Umm Jamíl, wife of Mohammed’s hostile cousin, Abd al-Uzza, there termed Abú Lahab (Father of smokeless Flame) with the implied meaning that she will bear fuel to feed Hell-fire.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the kettledrums beat the retreat, the two Kings parted and returned, each to his own place where his people gave him joy of his safety. And the Moslems said to Gharib, “ ’Tis not thy wont O King, to prolong a fight;” and he replied, “O folk, I have done battle with many royalties1 and champions; but never saw I a harder hitter than this one. Had I chosen to draw Al–Mahik upon him, I had mashed his bones and made an end of his days: but I delayed with him, thinking to take him prisoner and give him part enjoyment in Al–Islam.” Thus far concerning Gharib; but as regards Ra’ad Shah, he returned to his marquee and sat upon his throne, when his Chiefs came in to him and asked him of his adversary, and he answered, “By the truth of the sparkling Fire, never in my life saw I the like of yonder brave! But to-morrow I will take him prisoner and lead him away dejected and abject.” Then they slept till daybreak, when the battle-drums beat to fight and the swords in baldric were dight; and war-cries were cried amain and all mounted their horses of generous strain and drew out into the field, filling every wide place and hill and plain. The first to open the door of war was the rider outrageous and the lion rageous, King Gharib, who crave his steed between the two hosts and wheeled and careered over the field, crying, “Who is for fray, who is for fight? Let no sluggard come out to me this day nor dullard!” Before he had made an end of speaking, out rushed Ra’ad Shah, riding on an elephant, as he were a vast tower, in a eat girthed with silken bands; and between the elephant’s ears at the driver, bearing in hand a hook, wherewith he goaded the beast and directed him right and left. When the elephant drew near Gharib’s horse, and the steed saw a creature it had never before set eyes on, it took fright;2 wherefore Gharib dismounted and gave the horse to Kaylajan. Then he drew Al–Mahik and advanced to meet Ra’ad Shah a-foot, walking on till he faced the elephant. Now it was Ra’ad Shah’s wont, when he found himself overmatched by any brave, to mount an elephant, taking with him an implement called the lasso,3 which was in the shape of a net, wide at base and narrow at top with a running cord of silk passed through rings along its edges. With this he would attack horsemen and casting the meshes over them, draw the running noose and drag the rider off his horse and make him prisoner; and thus had he conquered many cavaliers. So, as Gharib came up to him, he raised his hand and, despreading the net over him, pulled him on to the back of the elephant and cried out to the beast to return to the Indian camp. But Kaylajan and Kurajan had not left Gharib and, when they beheld what had befallen their lord, they laid hold of the elephant, whilst Gharib strove with the net, till he rent it in sunder. Upon this the two Marids seized Ra’ad Shah and bound him with a cord of palm fibre. Then the two armies drove each at other and met with a shock like two seas crashing or two mountains together dashing, whilst the dust rose to the confines of the sky and blinded was every eye. The battle waxed fierce and fell, the blood ran in rills, nor did they cease to wage war with lunge of lance and sway of sword in lustiest way, till the day darkened and the night starkened, when the drums beat the retreat and the two hosts drew asunder.4 Now the Moslems were evilly entreated that day by reason of the riders on elephants and giraffes,5 and many of them were killed and most of the rest were wounded. This was grievous to Gharib who commanded the hurt to be medicined and turning to his Chief Officers, asked them what they counselled. Answered they, “O King, ’tis only the elephants and giraffes that irk us; were we but quit of them, we should overcome the enemy.” Quoth Kaylajan and Kurajan, “We twain will unsheath our swords and fall on them and slay the most part of them.” But there came forward a man of Oman, who had been privy counsellor to Jaland and said, “O King, I will be surety for the host, an thou wilt but hearken to me and follow my counsel.” Gharib turned to his Captains and said to them, “Whatsoever this wise man shall say to you that do.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Akyál,” lit. whose word (Kaul) is obeyed, a title of the Himyarite Kings, of whom Al–Bergendi relates that one of them left an inscription at Samarcand, which many centuries ago no man could read. This evidently alludes to the dynasty which preceded the “Tobba” and to No. xxiv. Shamar Yar’ash (Shamar the Palsied). Some make him son of Malik surnamed Náshir al-Ni’am (Scatterer of Blessings) others of Afríkús (No. xviii.), who, according to Al–Jannabi, Ahmad bin Yusuf and Ibn Ibdun (Pocock, Spec. Hist. Arab.) founded the Berber (Barber) race, the remnants of the Causanites expelled by the “robber, Joshua son of Nún,” and became the eponymus of “Africa.” This word which, under the Romans, denoted a small province on the Northern Sea-board, is, I would suggest, A’far-Káhi (Afar-land), the Afar being now the Dankali race, the country of Osiris whom my learned friend, the late Mariette Pasha, derived from the Egyptian “Punt” identified by him with the Somali country. This would make “Africa,” as it ought to be, an Egyptian (Coptic) term.
2 Herodotus (i. 80) notes this concerning the camel. Elephants are not allowed to walk the streets in Anglo–Indian cities, where they have caused many accidents.
3 Arab. Wahk or Wahak, suggesting the Roman retiarius. But the lasso pure and simple, the favourite weapon of shepherd and herdsmen was well-known to the old Egyptians and in ancient India. It forms one of the T-letters in the hieroglyphs.
4 Compare with this and other Arab battle-pieces the Pandit’s description in the Kathá Sarit Sagara, e.g. “Then a confused battle arose with dint of arrow, javelin, lance, mace and axe, costing the lives of countless soldiers (N.B. — Millions are nothing to him); rivers of blood flowed with the bodies of elephants and horses for alligators, with the pearls from the heads of elephants for sands and with the heads of heroes for stones. That feast of battle delighted the flesh-loving demons who, drunk with blood instead of wine, were dancing with the palpitating trunks,” etc.. etc. Fasc. xii. 526.
5 The giraffe is here mal-placé: it is, I repeat, one of the most timid of the antelope tribe. Nothing can be more graceful than this huge game as it stands under a tree extending its long and slender neck to the foliage above it; but when in flight all the limbs seem loose and the head is carried almost on a level with the back.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib said to his Captains, “Whatsoever this wise man shall say to you, that do”; they replied, “Hearing and obeying!” So the Omani chose out ten captains and asked them, “How many braves have ye under your hands?”; and they answered, “Ten thousand fighting-men.” Then he carried them into the armoury and armed five thousand of them with harquebuses and other five thousand with cross bows and taught them to shoot with these new weapons.1 Now as soon as it was day, the Indians came out to the field, armed cap-à-pie, with the elephants, giraffes and champions in their van; whereupon Gharib and his men mounted and both hosts drew out and the big drums beat to battle. Then the man of Oman cried out to the archers and harquebusiers to shoot, and they plied the elephants and giraffes with shafts and leaden bullets, which entered the beasts’ flanks, whereat they roared out and turning upon their own ranks, trod them down with their hoofs. Presently the Moslems charged the Misbelievers and outflanked them right and left, whilst the elephants and giraffes trampled them and drove them into the hills and words, whither the Moslems followed hard upon them with the keen-edged sword and but few of the giraffes and elephants escaped. Then King Gharib and his folk returned, rejoicing in their victory; and on the morrow they divided the loot and rested five days; after which King Gharib sat down on the throne of his kingship and sending for his brother Ajib, said to him, “O dog, why hast thou assembled the Kings against us? But He who hath power over all things hath given us the victory over thee. So embrace the Saving Faith and thou shalt be saved, and I will forbear to avenge my father and mother on thee therefor, and I will make thee King again as thou west, placing myself under thy hand.” But Ajib said, “I will not leave my faith.” So Gharib bade lay him in irons and appointed an hundred stalwart slaves to guard him; after which he turned to Ra’ad Shah and said to him, “How sayst thou of the faith of Al–Islam?” Replied he, “O my lord, I will enter thy faith; for, were it not a true Faith and a goodly, thou hadst not conquered us. Put forth thy hand and I will testify that there is no god but the God and that Abraham the Friend is the Apostle of God.” At this Gharib rejoiced and said to him, “Is thy heart indeed stablished in the sweetness of this Belief?” And he answered, saying, “Yes, O my lord!” Then quoth Gharib, “O. Ra’ad Shah, wilt thou go to thy country and thy kingdom?” and quoth he, “O. my lord, my father will put me to death, for that I have left his faith.” Gharib rejoined, “I will go with thee and make thee king of the country and constrain the folk to obey thee, by the help of Allah the Bountiful, the Beneficent.” And Ra’ad Shah kissed his hands and feet. Then Gharib rewarded the counsellor who had caused the rout of the foe and gave him great wealth; after which he turned to Kaylajan and Kurajan, and said to them, “Harkye, Chiefs of the Jinn, ’tis my will that ye carry me, together with Ra’ad Shah and Jamrkan and Sa’adan to the land of Hind.” “We hear and we obey,” answered they. So Kurajan took up Jamrkan and Sa’adan, whilst Kaylajan took Gharib and Ra’ad Shah and made for the land of Hind. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The fire-arms may have been inserted by the copier; the cross-bow (Arcubalista) is of unknown antiquity. I have remarked in my book of the Sword (p. 19) that the bow is the first crucial evidence of the distinction between the human weapon and the bestial arm, and like the hymen or membrane of virginity proves a difference of degree if not of kind between man and the so-called lower animals. I note from Yule’s Marco Polo (ii., 143) “ that the cross-bow was re-introduced into European warfare during the twelfth century”; but the arbalesta was well known to the bon roi Charlemagne (Regnier Sat. X).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the two Marids had taken up Gharib and Jamrkan, Sa’adan the Ghul and Ra’ad Shah, they flew on with them from sundown till the last of the Night, when they set them down on the terrace of King Tarkanan’s palace at Cashmere. Now news was brought to Tarkanan by the remnants of his host of what had befallen his son, whereat he slept not neither took delight in aught, and he was troubled with sore trouble. As he sat in his Harim, pondering his case, behold, Gharib and his company descended the stairways of the palace and came in to him; and when he saw his son and those who were with him, he was confused and fear took him of the Marids. Then Ra’ad Shah turned to him and said, “How long wilt thou persist in thy frowardness, O traitor and worshipper of the Fire? Woe to thee! Leave worshipping the Fire and serve the Magnanimous Sire, Creator of day and Night, whom attaineth no sight.” When Tarkanan heard his son’s speech, he cast at him an iron club he had by him; but it missed him and fell upon a buttress of the palace and smote out three stones. Then cried the King, “O dog, thou hast destroyed mine army and hast forsaken thy faith and comest now to make me do likewise!” With this Gharib went up to him and dealt him a cuff on the neck which knocked him down; whereupon the Marids bound him fast and all the Harim-women fled. Then Gharib sat down on the throne of kingship and said to Ra’ad Shah, “Do thou justice upon thy father.” So Ra’ad Shah turned to him and said, ‘O perverse old man, become one of the saved and thou shalt be saved from the fire and the wrath of the All-powerful” But Tarkanan cried, “I will not die save in my own faith” Whereupon Gharib drew Al–Mahik and smote him therewith and he fell to the earth in two pieces, and Allah hurried his soul to the fire and abiding-place dire.1 Then Gharib bade hang his body over the palace gate and they hung one half on the right hand and the other on the left and waited till day, when Gharib caused Ra’ad Shah don the royal habit and sit down on his father’s throne, with himself on his dexter hand and Jamrkan and Sa’adan and the Marids standing right and left; and he said to Kaylajan and Kurajan, “Whoso entereth of the Princes and Officers, seize him and bind him, and let not a single Captain escape you.” And they answered, “Hearkening and obedience!” Presently the Officers made for the palace, to do their service to e King, and the first to appear was the Chief Captain who, seeing King Tarkanan’s dead body cut in half and hanging on either side of the gate, was seized with terror and amazement. Then Kaylajan laid hold of him by the collar and threw him and intoned him; after which he dragged him into the palace and before sunrise they had bound three hundred and fifty Captains and set them before Gharib, who said to them, “O folk, have you seen your King hanging at the palace gate?” Asked they, “Who hath done this deed?”; and he answered, “I did it, by the help of Allah Almighty; and whoso opposeth me, I will do with him likewise.” Then quoth they, “What is thy will with us?”; and quoth he, “I am Gharib, King of Al–Irak, he who slew your warriors; and now Ra’ad Shah hath embraced the Faith of Salvation and is become a mighty King and ruler over you. So do ye become True Believers and all shall be well with you; but, if ye refuse, you shall repent it.” So they pronounced the profession of the Faith and were enrolled among the people of felicity. Then said Gharib, “Are your hearts indeed stablished in the sweetness of the Belief?”; and they replied, “Yes”; whereupon he bade release them and clad them in robes of honour, saying, “Go to your people and expound Al–Islam to them. Whoso accepteth the Faith spare him; but if he refuse slay him.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In Al–Islam this was unjustifiable homicide, excused only because the Kafir had tried to slay his own son. He should have been summoned to become a tributary and then, on express refusal, he might legally have been put to death.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Gharib said to the troops of Ra’ad Shah, “Go to your people and offer Al–Islam to them. Whoso accepteth the Faith spare him; but if he refuse, slay him.” So they went out and, assembling the men under their command, explained what had taken place and expounded Al–Islam to them and they all professed. except a few, whom they put to death; after which they returned and told Gharib, who blessed Allah and glorified Him, saying, “Praised be the Almighty who hath made this thing easy to us without strife!” Then he abode in Cashmere of India forty days, till he had ordered the affairs of the country and cast down the shrines and temples of the Fire and built in their stead mosques and cathedrals, whilst Ra’ad Shah made ready for him rarities and treasures beyond count and despatched them to Al–Irak in ships Then Gharib mounted on Kaylajan’s back and Jamrkan and Sa’adan on that of Kurajan, after they had taken leave of Ra’ad Shah; and journeyed through the night till break of day, when they reached Oman city where their troops met them and saluted them and rejoiced in them. Then they set out for Cufa where Gharib called for his brother Ajib and commanded to hang him. So Sahim brought hooks of iron and driving them into the tendons of Ajib’s heels, hung him over the gate; and Gharib bade them shoot him; so they riddled him with arrows, till he was like unto a porcupine. Then Gharib entered his palace and sitting down on the throne of his kingship, passed the day in ordering the affairs of the state. At nightfall he went in to his Harim, where Star o’ Morn came to meet him and embraced him and gave him joy, she and her women, of his safety. He spent that day and lay that night with her and on the morrow, after he had made the Ghusl-ablution and prayed the dawn-prayer, he sat down on his throne and commanded preparation to be made for his marriage with Mahdiyah. Accordingly they slaughtered three thousand head of sheep and two thousand oxen and a thousand he goats and five hundred camels and the like number of horses, beside four thousand fowls and great store of geese; never was such wedding in Al–Islam to that day. Then he went in to Mahdiyah and took her maidenhead and abode with her ten days; after which he committed the kingdom to his uncle Al–Damigh, charging him to rule the lieges justly, and journeyed with his women and warriors, till he came to the ships laden with the treasures and rarities which Ra’ad Shah had sent him, and divided the monies among his men who from poor became rich. Then they fared on till they reached the city of Babel, where he bestowed on Sahim Al–Layl a robe of honour and appointed him Sultan of the city. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Gharib, after robing his brother Sahim and appointing him Sultan, abode with him ten days, after which he set out again and journeyed nor stinted travel till he reached the castle of Sa’adan the Ghul, where they rested five days. Then quoth Gharib to Kaylajan and Kurajan’ “Pass over to Isbánír al-Madáin, to the palace of the Chosroe, and find what is come of Fakhr Taj and bring me one of the King’s kinsmen, who shall acquaint me with what hath passed.” Quoth they, “We hear and we obey,” and set out forthright for Isbanir. As they flew between heaven and earth, behold, they caught sight of a mighty army, as it were the surging sea, and Kaylajan said to Kurajan, “Let us descend and determine what be this host.” So they alighted and walking among the troops, found them Persians and questioned the soldiers whose men they were and whither they were bound; whereto they made answer, “We are en route for Al–Irak, to slay Gharib and all who company him.” When the Marids heard these words, they repaired to the pavilion of the Persian general, whose name was Rustam, and waited till the soldiers slept, when they took up Rustam, bed and all, and made for the castle where Gharib lay. They arrived there by midnight and going to the door of the King’s pavilion, cried, “Permission!” which when he heard, he sat up and said, “Come in.” So they entered and set down the couch with Rustam asleep thereon. Gharib asked, “Who be this?” and they answered, “This be a Persian Prince, whom we met coming with a great host, thinking to slay thee and thine, and we have brought him to thee, that he may tell thee what thou hast a mind to know.” “Fetch me an hundred braves!” cried Gharib, and they fetched them; whereupon he bade them, “Draw your swords and stand at the head of this Persian carle!” Then they awoke him and he opened his eyes; and, finding an arch of steel over his head, shut them again, crying, “What be this foul dream?” But Kaylajan pricked him with his sword point and he sat up and said, “Where am I?” Quoth Sahim, “Thou art in the presence of King Gharib, son-in-law of the King of the Persians. What is thy name and whither goest thou?” When Rustam heard Gharib’s name’ he bethought himself and said in his mind, “Am I asleep or awake? Whereupon Sahim dealt him a buffet, saying, “Why dost thou not answer?” And he raised his head and asked, “Who brought me from my tent out of the midst of my men?” Gharib answered, “These two Marids brought thee.” So he looked at Kaylajan and Kurajan and skited in his bag-trousers. Then the Marids fell upon him, baring their tusks and brandishing their blades, and said to him, “Wilt thou not rise and kiss ground before King Gharib?” And he trembled at them and was assured that he was not asleep; so he stood up and kissed the ground between the hands of Gharib, saying, “The blessing of the Fire be on thee, and long life be thy life, O King!” Gharib cried, “O dog of the Persians, fire is not worshipful, for that it is harmful and profiteth not save in cooking food.” Asked Rustam, “Who then is worshipful?”; and Gharib answered, “Alone worshipworth is God, who formed thee and fashioned thee and created the heavens and the earth.” Quoth the Ajami, “What shall I say that I may become of the party of this Lord and enter thy Faith?”; and quoth Gharib, “Say, ‘There is no god but the God, and Abraham is the Friend of God’.” So Rustam pronounced the profession of the Faith and was enrolled among the people of felicity. Then said he to Gharib, “Know, O my lord, that thy father-in-law, King Sabur, seeketh to slay thee; and indeed he hath sent me with an hundred thousand men, charging me to spare none of you.” Gharib rejoined, “Is this my reward for having delivered his daughter from death and dishonour? Allah will requite him his ill intent. But what is thy name?” The Persian answered, “My name is Rustam, general of Sabur;” and Gharib, “Thou shalt have the like rank in my army,” adding, “But tell me, O Rustam, how is it with the Princess Fakhr Taj?” “May thy head live, O King of the age!” “What was the cause of her death?” Rustam replied, “O my lord, no sooner hadst thou left us than one of the Princess’s women went in to King Sabur and said to him, ‘O my master, didst thou give Gharib leave to lie with the Princess my mistress?’ whereto he answered, ‘No, by the virtue of the fire!’ and drawing his sword, went in to his daughter and said to her, ‘O foul baggage, why didst thou suffer yonder Badawi to sleep with thee, without dower or even wedding?’ She replied, ‘O my papa, ’twas thou gayest him leave to sleep with me.’ Then he asked, ‘Did the fellow have thee?’ but she was silent and hung down her head. Hereupon he cried out to the midwives and slave-girls, saying, ‘Pinion me this harlot’s elbows behind her and look at her privy parts.’ So they did as he bade them and after inspecting her slit said to him, ‘O King, she hath lost her maidenhead Whereupon he ran at her and would have slain her, but her mother rose up and threw herself between them crying, ‘O King, slay her not, lest thou be for ever dishonoured; but shut her in a cell till she die.’ So he cast her into prison till nightfall, when he called two of his courtiers and said to them, ‘Carry her afar off and throw her into the river Jayhun and tell none.’ They did his commandment, and indeed her memory is forgotten and her time is past.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib asked news of Fakhr Taj, Rustam informed him that she had been drowned in the river by her sire’s command. And when Gharib heard this, the world waxed wan before his eyes and he cried, “By the virtue of Abraham the Friend, I will assuredly go to yonder dog and overwhelm him and lay waste his realm!” Then he sent letters to Jamrkan and to the governors of Mosul and Mayyáfáríkín; and, turning to Rustam, said to him, “How many men hadst thou in thine army?” He replied, “An hundred thousand Persian horse;” and Gharib rejoined, “Take ten thousand horse and go to thy people and occupy them with war; I will follow on thy trail.” So Rustam mounted and taking ten thousand Arab horse made for his tribe, saying in himself, “I will do a deed shall whiten my face with King Gharib.” So he fared on seven days, till there remained but half a day’s journey between him and the Persian camp; when, dividing his host into four divisions he said to his men, “Surround the Persians on all sides and fall upon them with the sword.” They rode on from eventide till midnight, when they had compassed the camp of the Ajamis, who were asleep in security, and fell upon them, shouting, “God is Most Great!” Whereupon the Persians started up from sleep and their feet slipped and the sabre went round amongst them; for the All-knowing King was wroth with them, and Rustam wrought amongst them as fire in dry fuel; till, by the end of the night, the whole of the Persian host was slain or wounded or fled, and the Moslems made prize of their tents and baggage, horses, camels and treasure-chests. Then they alighted and rested in the tents of the Ajamis till King Gharib came up and, seeing what Rustam had done and how he had gained by stratagem a great and complete victory, he invested him with a robe of honour and said to him, “O Rustam, it was thou didst put the Persians to the rout; wherefore all the spoil is thine.” So he kissed Gharib’s hand and thanked him, and they rested till the end of the day, when they set out for King Sabur’s capital. Meanwhile, the fugitives of the defeated force reached Isbanir and went in to Sabur, crying out and saying, “Alas!” and “Well-away!” and “Woe worth the day!” Quoth he, “What hath befallen you and who with his mischief hath smitten you?” So they told him all that had passed and said, “Naught befel us except that thy general Rustam, fell upon us in the darkness of the night because he had turned Moslem; nor did Gharib come near us.” When the King heard this, he cast his crown to the ground and said, “There is no worth left us!” Then he turned to his son Ward Shah1 and said to him, “O my son, there is none for this affair save thou.” Answered Ward Shah, “By thy life, O my father, I will assuredly bring Gharib and his chiefs of the people in chains and slay all who are with him” Then he numbered his army and found it two hundred and twenty-thousand men. So they slept, intending to set forth on the morrow; but, next morning, as they were about to march, behold, a cloud of dust arose and spread till it walled the world and baffled the sight of the farthest seeing wight. Now Sabur had mounted to farewell his son, and when he saw this mighty great dust, he let call a runner and said to him, “Go find me out the cause of this dust-cloud.” The scout went and returned, saying, “O my lord, Gharib and his braves are upon you;” whereupon they unloaded their bât-beasts and drew out in line of battle. When Gharib came up and saw the Persians ranged in row, he cried out to his men, saying, “Charge with the blessing of Allah!” So they waved the flags, and the Arabs and the Ajamis crave one at other and folk were heaped upon folk. Blood ran like water and all souls saw death face to face; the brave advanced and pressed forward to assail and the coward hung back and turned tail and they ceased not from fight and fray till ended day, when the kettle-drums beat the retreat and the two hosts drew apart. Then Sabur commanded to pitch his camp hard over the city-gate, and Gharib set up his pavilions in front of theirs; and every one went to his tent. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. “Rose King,” like the Sikh name “Gulab Singh”=Rosewater Lion, sounding in translation almost too absurd to be true.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the two hosts drew apart, every one went to his tent until the morning. As soon as it was day, the two hosts mounted their strong steeds and levelled their lances and wore their harness of war; then they raised their slogan cries and drew out in battle-array, whilst came forth all the lordly knights and the lions of fights. Now the first to open the gate of battle was Rustam, who urged his charger into mid-field and cried out, “God is most Great! I am Rustam, champion-in-chief of the Arabs and Ajamis. Who is for tilting, who is for fighting? Let no sluggard come out to me this day nor weakling!” Then there rushed forth to him a champion of the Persians; the two charged each other and there befel between them a sore fight, till Rustam sprang upon his adversary and smote him with a mace he had with him, seventy pounds in weight, and beat his head down upon his breast, and he fell to the earth, dead and in his blood drowned. This was no light matter to Sabur and he commanded his men to charge; so they crave at the Moslems, invoking the aid of the light-giving Sun, whilst the True Believers called for help upon the Magnanimous King. But the Ajamis, the Miscreants, outnumbered the Arabs, the Moslems, and made them drain the cup of death; which when Gharib saw he drew his sword Al–Mahik and crying out his war-cry, fell upon the Persians, with Kaylajan and Kurajan at either stirrup; nor did he leave playing upon them with blade till he hewed his way to the standard-bearer and smote him on the head with the flat of his sword, whereupon he fell down in a fainting-fit and the two Marids bore him off to their camp. When the Persians saw the standard fall, they turned and fled and for the city-gates made; but the Moslems followed them with the blade and they crowded together to enter the city, so that they could not shut the gates and there died of them much people. Then Rustam and Sa’adan, Jamrkan and Sahim, Al–Damigh, Kaylajan and Kurajan and all the braves Mohammedan and the champions of Faith Unitarian fell upon the misbelieving Persians in the gates, and the blood of the Kafirs ran in the streets like a torrent till they threw down their arms and harness and called out for quarter; whereupon the Moslems stayed their swords from the slaughter and drove them to their tents, as one driveth a flock of sheep. Meanwhile Gharib returned to his pavilion, where he doffed his gear and washed himself of the blood of the Infidels; after which he donned his royal robes and sat down on his chair of estate. Then he called for the King of the Persians and said to him, “O dog of the Ajams, what moved thee to deal thus with thy daughter? How seest thou me unworthy to be her baron?” And Sabur answered, saying, “O King, punish me not because of that deed which I did; for I repent me and confronted thee not in fight but in my fear of thee.’’1 When Gharib heard these words he bade throw him flat and beat him. So they bastinadoed him, till he could no longer groan, and cast him among the prisoners. Then Gharib expounded Al–Islam to the Persians and one hundred and twenty-thousand of them embraced The Faith, and the rest he put to the sword. Moreover all the citizens professed Al–Islam and Gharib mounted and entered in great state the city Isbanir Al–Madain. Then he went into the King’s palace and sitting down on Sabur’s throne, gave robes and largesse and distributed the booty and treasure among the Arabs and Persians, wherefore they loved him and wished him victory and honour and endurance of days. But Fakhr Taj’s mother remembered her daughter and raised the voice of mourning for her, and the palace was filled with wails and cries. Gharib heard this and entering the Harim, asked the women what ailed them, whereupon the Princess’s mother came forward and said, “O my lord, thy presence put me in mind of my daughter and how she would have joyed in thy coming, had she been alive and well.” Gharib wept for her and sitting down on his throne, called for Sabur, and they brought him stumbling in his shackles. Quoth Gharib to him, “O dog of the Persians, what didst thou do with thy daughter?” “I gave her to such an one and such an one,” quoth the King, “saying, ‘Drown her in the river Jayhún.’” So Gharib sent for the two men and asked them, “Is what he saith true?” Answered they, “Yes; but, O King, we did not drown her, nay we took pity on her and left her on the bank of the Jayhun, saying, ‘Save thyself and return not to the city, lest the King slay thee and slay us with thee.’ This is all we know of her.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “Repentance acquits the penitent” is a favourite and noble saying popular in Al–Islam. It is first found in Seneca; and is probably as old as the dawn of literature.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the two men ended the tale of Fakhr Taj with these words, “And we left her upon the bank of the river Jayhun!” Now, when Gharib heard this he bade bring the astrologers and said to them, “Strike me a board of geomancy and find out what is come of Fakhr Taj, and whether she is still in the bonds of life or dead.” They did so and said, “O King of the age, it is manifest to us that the Princess is alive and hath borne a male child; but she is with a tribe of the Jinn, and will be parted from thee twenty years; count, therefore, how many years thou hast been absent in travel.” So he reckoned up the years of his absence and found them eight years and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!’’1 Then he sent for all Sabur’s Governors of towns and strongholds and they came and did him homage. Now one day after this, as he sat in his palace, behold, a cloud of dust appeared in the distance and spread till it walled the whole land and darkened the horizon. So he summoned the two Marids and bade them reconnoitre, and they went forth under the dust-cloud and snatching up a horseman of the advancing host, returned and set him down before Gharib, saying, “Ask this fellow, for he is of the army.” Quoth Gharib, “Whose power is this?” and the man answered, “O King, ’tis the army of Khirad Shah,2 King of Shiras, who is come forth to fight thee.” Now the cause of Khirad Shah’s coming was this. When Gharib defeated Sabur’s army, as hath been related, and took him prisoner, the King’s son fled, with a handful of his father’s force and ceased not flying till he reached the city of Shiras, where he went into King Khirad Shah and kissed ground before him, whilst the tears ran down his cheeks. When the King saw him in this case, he said to him, “Lift thy head, O youth, and tell me what maketh thee weep.” He replied, “O King, a King of the Arabs, by name Gharib, hath fallen on us and captured the King my sire and slain the Persians making them drain the cup of death.” And he told him all that had passed from first to last Quoth Khirad Shah, “Is my wife3 well?” and quoth the Prince “Gharib hath taken her.” Cried the King “As my head liveth I will not leave a Badawi or a Moslem on the face of the earth’” So he wrote letters to his Viceroys, who levied their troops and joined him with an army which when reviewed numbered eighty-five thousand men. Then he opened his armouries and distributed arms and armour to the troops, after which he set out with them and journeyed till he came to Isbanir, and all encamped before the city-gate. Hereupon Kaylajan and Kurajan came in to Gharib and kissing his knee, said to him, “O our Lord, heal our hearts and give us this host to our share.” And he said, “Up and at them!” So the two Marids flew aloft high in the lift and lighting down in the pavilion of the King of Shiras, found him seated on his chair of estate, with the Prince of Persia Ward Shah son of Sabur, sitting on his right hand, and about him his Captains, with whom he was taking counsel for the slaughter of the Moslems. Kaylajan came forward and caught up the Prince and Kurajan snatched Up the King and the twain flew back with them to Gharib, who caused beat them till they fainted Then the Marids returned to the Shirazian camp and, drawing their swords, which no mortal man had strength to wield, fell upon the Misbelievers and Allah hurried their souls to the Fire and abiding-place dire, whilst they saw no one and nothing save two swords flashing and reaping men, as a husbandman reaps corn. So they left their tents and mounting their horses bare- backed, fled, and the Marids pursued them two days and slew of them much people; after which they returned and kissed Gharib’s hand. He thanked them for the deed they had done and said to them, “The spoil of the Infidels is yours alone: none shall share with you therein.” So they called down blessings on him and going forth, gathered the booty together and abode in their own homes. On this wise it fared with them; but as regards Gharib and his lieges — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after Gharib had put to flight the host of Khirad Shah, he bade Kaylajan and Kurajan take the spoil to their own possession nor hare it with any; so they gathered the booty and abode in their own homes. Meanwhile the remains of the beaten force ceased not flying till they reached the city of Shiras and there lifted up the voice of weeping and began the ceremonial lamentations for those of them that had been slain. Now King Khirad Shah had a brother Sírán the Sorcerer hight, than whom there was no greater wizard in his day, and he lived apart from his brother in a certain stronghold, called the Fortalice of Fruits,1 in a place abounding in trees and streams and birds and blooms, half a day’s journey from Shiras. So the fugitives betook them thither and went in to Siran the Sorcerer, weeping and wailing aloud. Quoth he, “O folk, what garreth you weep?” and they told him all that had happened, especially how the two Marids had carried off his brother Khirad Shah; whereupon the light of his eyes became night and he said, “By the virtue of my faith, I will certainly slay Gharib and all his men and leave not one alive to tell the tale!” Then he pronounced certain magical words and summoned the Red King, who appeared and Siran said to him, “Fare for Isbanir and fall on Gharib, as he sitteth upon his throne.” Replied he, “Hearkening and obedience!” and, gathering his troops, repaired to Isbanir and assailed Gharib, who seeing him, drew his sword Al–Mahik and he and Kaylajan and Kurajan fell upon the army of the Red King and slew of them five hundred and thirty and wounded the King himself with a grevious wound; whereupon he and his people fled and stayed not in their flight, till they reached the Fortalice of Fruits and went into Siran, crying out and exclaiming, “Woe!” and “Ruin!” And the Red King said to Siran, “O sage, Gharib hath with him the enchanted sword of Japhet son of Noah, and whomsoever he smiteth therewith he severeth him in sunder, and with him also are two Marids from Mount Caucasus, given to him by King Mura’ash. He it is who slew the Blue King and Barkan Lord of the Carnelian City, and did to death much people of the Jinn.” When the Enchanter heard this, he said to the Red King “Go,” and he went his ways; whereupon he resumed his conjurations, and calling up a Marid, by name Zu’ázi’a gave him a drachm of levigated Bhang and said to him, “Go thou to Isbanir and enter King Gharib’s palace and assume the form of a sparrow. Wait till he fall asleep and there be none with him; then put the Bhang up his nostrils and bring him to me.” “To hear is to obey,” replied the Marid and flew to Isbanir, where, changing himself into a sparrow, he perched on the window of the palace and waited till all Gharib’s attendants retired to their rooms and the King himself slept. Then he flew down and going up to Gharib, blew the powdered Bhang into his nostrils, till he lost his senses, whereupon he wrapped him in the bed-coverlet and flew off with him, like the storm wind, to the Fortalice of Fruits; where he arrived at midnight and laid his prize before Siran. The Sorcerer thanked him and would have put Gharib to death, as he lay senseless under Bhang; but a man of his people withheld him saying, “O Sage, an thou slay him, his friend King Mura’ash will fall on us with all his Ifrits and lay waste our realm.” “How then shall we do with him?” asked Siran, and the other answered, “Cast him into the Jayhun while he is still in Bhang and he shall be drowned and none will know who threw him in.” And Siran bade the Marid take Gharib and cast him into Jayhun river. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The name does not appear till further on, after vague Eastern fashion which, here and elsewhere I have not had the heart to adopt. The same may be found in Ariosto, passim.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Marid took Gharib and carried him to the Jayhun purposing to cast him therein, but it was grievous to him to drown him, wherefore he made a raft of wood and binding it with cords, pushed it out (and Gharib thereon) into the current, which carried it away. Thus fared it with Gharib; but as regards his people, when they awoke in the morning and went in to do their service to their King, they found him not and seeing his rosary on the throne, awaited him awhile, but he came not. So they sought out the head Chamberlain and said to him, “Go into the Harim and look for the King: for it is not his habit to tarry till this time.” Accordingly, the Chamberlain entered the Serraglio and enquired for the King, but the women said, “Since yesterday we have not seen him.” Thereupon he returned and told the Officers, who were confounded and said, “Let us see if he have gone to take his pleasure in the gardens.” Then they went out and questioned the gardeners if they had seen the King, and they answered, “No;” whereat they were sore concerned and searched all the garths till the end of the day, when they returned in tears. Moreover, the two Marids sought for him all round the city, but came back after three days, without having happened on any tidings of him. So the people donned black and made their complaint to the Lord of all worshipping men who cloth as he is fain. Meanwhile, the current bore the raft along for five days till it brought it to the salt sea, where the waves disported with Gharib and his stomach, being troubled, threw up the Bhang. Then he opened his eyes and finding himself in the midst of the main, a plaything of the billows, said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Would to Heaven I wot who hath done this deed by me!” Presently as he lay, perplexed concerning his case, lo! he caught sight of a ship sailing by and signalled with his sleeve to the sailors, who came to him and took him up, saying, “Who art thou and whence comest thou?” He replied, “Do ye feed me and give me to drink, till I recover myself, and after I will tell you who I am.” So they brought him water and victual, and he ate and drank and Allah restored to him his reason. Then he asked them, “O folk, what countrymen are ye and what is your Faith?;” and they answered, “We are from Karaj1 and we worship an idol called Minkásh.” Cried Gharib, “Perdition to you and your idol! O dogs, none is worthy of wor strip save Allah who creased all things, who saith to a thing Be! and it becometh.” When they heard this, they rose up and fell upon him in great wrath and would have seized him. Now he was without weapons, but whomsoever he struck, he smote down and deprived of life, till he had felled forty men, after which they overcame him by force of numbers and bound him fast, saying, “We will not slay him save in our own land, that we may first show him to our King.” Then they sailed on till they came to the city of Karaj. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A town in Persian Irak, unhappily far from the “Salt sea.”
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the ship’s crew seized Gharib and bound him fast they said, “We will not slay him save in our own land.” Then they sailed on till they came to the city of Karaj, the builder whereof was an Amalekite, fierce and furious; and he had set up at each gate of the city a magical figure of copper which, whenever a stranger entered, blew a blast on a trumpet, that all in the city heard it and fell upon the stranger and slew him, except they embraced their creed When Gharib entered the city, the figure stationed at the gate blew such a horrible blast that the King was affrighted and going into his idol, found fire and smoke issuing from its mouth, nose and eyes. Now a Satan had entered the belly of the idol and speaking as with its tongue, said, “O King, there is come to thy city one hight Gharib, King of Al–Irak, who biddeth the folk quit their belief and worship his Lord; wherefore, when they bring him before thee, look thou spare him not.” So the King went out and sat down on his throne; and presently, the sailors brought in Gharib and set him before the presence, saying, “O King, we found this youth shipwrecked in the midst of the sea, and he is a Kafir and believeth not in our gods.” Then they told him all that had passed and the King said, “Carry him to the house of the Great Idol and cut his throat before him, so haply our god may look lovingly upon us.” But the Wazir said, “O King, it befitteth not to slaughter him thus, for he would die in a moment: better we imprison him and build a pyre of fuel and burn him with fire.” Thereupon the King commanded to cast Gharib into gaol and caused wood to be brought, and they made a mighty pyre and set fire to it, and it burnt till the morning. Then the King and the people of the city came forth and the Ruler sent to fetch Gharib; but his lieges found him not; so they returned and told their King who said, “And how made he his escape?” Quoth they, ‘We found the chains and shackles cast down and the doors fast locked.” Whereat the King marvelled and asked, Hath this fellow to Heaven up flown or into the earth gone down?;’ and they answered, “We know not.” Then said the King, “I will go and question my God, and he will inform me whither he is gone.” So he rose and went in, to prostrate himself to his idol, but found it not and began to rub his eyes and say, “Am I in sleep or on wake?” Then he turned to his Wazir and said to him, “Where is my God and where is my prisoner? By my faith, O dog of Wazirs, haddest thou not counselled me to burn him, I had slaughtered him; for it is he who hath stolen my god and fled; and there is no help but I take brood-wreak of him!” Then he drew his sword and struck off the Wazir’s head. Now there was for Gharib’s escape with the idol a strange cause and it was on this wise. When they had shut him up in a cell adjoining the doomed shrine under which stood the idol, he rose to pray, calling upon the name of Almighty Allah and seeking deliverance of Him, to whom be honour and glory! The Marid who had charge of the idol and spoke in its name, heard him and fear got hold upon his heart and he said, “O shame upon me! Who is this seeth me while I see him not?” So he went in to Gharib and throwing himself at his feet, said to him, “O my Lord, what must I say that I may become of thy company and enter thy religion?” Replied Gharib, “Say, ‘There is no god but the God and Abraham is the Friend of God.’” So the Marid pronounced the profession of Faith and was enrolled among the people of felicity. Now his name was Zalzál, son of Al–Muzalzil,1 one of the Chiefs of the Kings of the Jinn. Then he unbound Gharib and taking him and the idol, made for the higher air. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “Earthquake son of Ennosigaius” (the Earthquake-maker).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Marid took up Gharib and the idol and made for the higher air. Such was his case; but as regards the King, when his soldiers saw what had befallen and the slaughter of the Wazir they renounced the worship of the idol and drawing their swords, slew the King; after which they fell on one another, and the sword went round amongst them three days, till there abode alive but two men, one of whom prevailed over the other and killed him. Then the boys attacked the survivor and slew him and fell to fighting amongst themselves, till they were all killed; and the women and girls fled to the hamlets and forted villages; wherefore the city became desert and none dwelt therein but the owl. Meanwhile, the Marid Zalzal flew with Gharib towards his own country, the Island of Camphor and the Castle of Crystal and the Land of the Enchanted Calf, so called because its King Al Muzalzil, had a pied calf, which he had clad in housings brocaded with red gold, and worshipped as a god. One day the King and his people went in to the calf and found him trembling; so the King said, “O my God, what hath troubled thee?” whereupon the Satan in the calf’s belly cried out and said, “O Muzalzil, verily thy son hath deserted to the Faith of Abraham the Friend at the hands of Gharib Lord of Al–Irak;” and went on to tell him all that had passed from first to last. When the King heard the words of his calf he was confounded and going forth, sat down upon his throne. Then he summoned his Grandees who came in a body, and he told them what he had heard from the idol, whereat they marvelled and said, “What shall we do, O King?” Quoth he, “When my son cometh and ye see him embrace him, do ye lay hold of him.” And they said, “Hearkening and obedience!” After two days came Zalzal and Gharib, with the King’s idol of Karaj, but no sooner had they entered the palace-gate than the Jinn seized on them and carried them before Al–Muzalzil, who looked at his son with eyes of ire and said to him, “O dog of the Jann, hast thou left thy Faith and that of thy fathers and grandfathers?” Quoth Zalzal, “I have embraced the True Faith, and on like wise do thou (Woe be to thee!) seek salvation and thou shalt be saved from the wrath of the King Almighty in sway, Creator of Night and Day.” Therewith his father waxed wroth and said, “O son of adultery, dost confront me with these words?” Then he bade clap him in prison and turning to Gharib, said to him, “O wretch of a mortal, how hast thou abused my son’s wit and seduced him from his Faith?” Quoth Gharib, “Indeed, I have brought him out of wrongousness into the way of righteousness, out of Hell into Heaven and out of unfaith to the True Faith.” Whereupon the King cried out to a Marid called Sayyár, saying “Take this dog and cast him into the Wady of Fire, that he may perish.” Now this valley was in the “Waste Quarter1” and was thus named from the excess of its heat and the flaming of its fire, which was so fierce that none who went down therein could live an hour, but was destroyed; and it was compassed about by mountains high and slippery wherein was no opening. So Sayyar took up Gharib and flew with him towards the Valley of Fire, till he came within an hour’s journey thereof, when being weary, he alighted in a valley full of trees and streams and fruits, and setting down from his back Gharib chained as he was, fell asleep for fatigue. When Gharib heard him snore, he strove with his bonds till he burst them; then, taking up a heavy stone, he cast it down on the Marid’s head and crushed his bones, so that he died on the spot. Then he fared on into the valley. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ruba’al-Kharáb” or Ruba’al-Khálí (empty quarter), the great central wilderness of Arabia covering some 50,000 square miles and still left white on our maps. (Pilgrimage, i 14.)
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Gharib after killing the Marid fared on into the valley and found himself in a great island in mid-ocean, full of all fruits that lips and tongue could desire. So he abode alone on the island, drinking of its waters and eating of its fruits and of fish that he caught, and days and years passed over him, till he had sojourned there in his solitude seven years. One day, as he sat, be hold, there came down on him from the air two Marids, each carrying a man; and seeing him they said, “Who art thou, O fellow, and of which of the tribes art thou?” Now they took him for a Jinni, because his hair was grown long; and he replied, saying, “I am not of the Jann,” whereupon they questioned him, and he told them all that had befallen him. They grieved for him and one of the Ifrits said, “Abide thou here till we bear these two lambs to our King, that he may break his fast on the one and sup on the other, and after we will come back and carry thee to thine own country.” He thanked them and said, “ Where be the lambs?” Quoth they, “These two mortals are the lambs.” And Gharib said, “I take refuge with Allah the God of Abraham the Friend, the Lord of all creatures, who hath power over everything! Then the Marids flew away and Gharib abode awaiting them two days, when one of them returned, bringing with him a suit of clothes wherewith he clad him. Then he took him up and flew with him sky-high out of sight of earth, till Gharib heard the angels glorifying God in Heaven, and a flaming shaft issued from amongst them and made for the Marid, who fled from it towards the earth. The meteor pursued him, till he came within a spear’s cast of the ground, when Gharib leaped from his shoulders and the fiery shaft overtook the Marid, who became a heap of ashes. As for Gharib, he fell into the sea and sank two fathoms deep, after which he rose to the surface and swam for two days and two nights, till his strength failed him and he made certain of death. But, on the third day as he was despairing he caught sight of an island steep and mountainous; so he swam for it and landing, walked on inland, where he rested a day and a Night, feeding on the growth of the ground. Then he climbed to the mountain top, and, descending the opposite slope, fared on two days till he came in sight of a walled and bulwarked city, abounding in trees and rills. He walked up to it; but, when he reached the gate, the warders seized on him, and carried him to their Queen, whose name was Ján Sháh.1 Now she was five hundred years old, and every man who entered the city, they brought to her and she made him sleep with her, and when he had done his work, she slew him and so had she slain many men. When she saw Gharib, he pleased her mightily; so she asked him, “What be thy name and Faith and whence comest thou?” and he answered, “My name is Gharib King of Irak, and I am a Moslem.” Said she, “Leave this Creed and enter mine and I will marry thee and make thee King.” But he looked at her with eyes of ire and cried, “Perish thou and thy faith!” Cried she, “Dost thou blaspheme my idol, which is of red carnelian, set with pearls and gems?” And she called out to her men, saying, “Imprison him in the house of the idol; haply it will soften his heart.” So they shut him up in the domed shrine and locking the doors upon him, went their way. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Pers. “Life King”, women also assume the title of Shah.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when they took Gharib, they jailed him in the idol’s domed shrine; and locking the doors upon him, went their way. As soon as they were gone, Gharib gazed at the idol, which was of red carnelian, with collars of pearls and precious stones about its neck, and presently he went close to it and lifting it up, dashed it on the ground and brake it in bits; after which he lay down and slept till daybreak. When morning morrowed, the Queen took seat on her throne and said, “O men, bring me the prisoner.” So they opened the temple doors and entering, found the idol broken in pieces, whereupon they buffeted their faces till the blood ran from the corners of their eyes. Then they made at Gharib to seize him; but he smote one of them with his fist and slew him, and so did he with another and yet another, till he had slain five-and-twenty of them and the rest fled and went in to Queen Jan Shah, shrieking loudly. Quoth she, “What is the matter?” and quoth they, “The prisoner hath broken thine idol and slain thy men,” and told her all that had passed. When she heard this, she cast her crown to the ground and said, “There is no worth left in idols!” Then she mounted amid a thousand fighting-men and rode to the temple, where she found Gharib had gotten him a sword and come forth and was slaying men and overthrowing warriors. When she saw his prowess, her heart was drowned in the love of him and she said to herself, “I have no need of the idol and care for naught save this Gharib, that he may lie in my bosom the rest of my life.” Then she cried to her men, “Hold aloof from him and leave him to himself!”; then, going up to him she muttered certain magical words, whereupon his arm became benumbed, his forearm relaxed and the sword dropped from his hand. So they seized him and pinioned him, as he stood confounded, stupefied. Then the Queen returned to her palace, and seating herself on her seat of estate, bade her people withdraw and leave Gharib with her. When they were alone, she said to him, “ O dog of the Arabs, wilt thou shiver my idol and slay my people?” He replied, “O accursed woman, had he been a god he had defended himself!” Quoth she, “Stroke me and I will forgive thee all thou hast done.” But he replied, saying, “I will do nought of this.” And she said, “By the virtue of my faith, I will torture thee with grievous torture!” So she took water and conjuring over it, sprinkled it upon him and he became an ape. And she used to feed and water and keep him in a (loses, appointing one to care for him; and in this plight he abode two years. Then she called him to her one day and said to him, “Wilt thou hearken to me?” And he signed to her with his head, “Yes.” So she rejoiced and freed him from the enchantment. Then she brought him food and he ate and toyed with her and kissed her, so that she trusted in him. When it was night she lay down and said to him, “Come, do thy business.” He replied, “ ’Tis well;” and, mounting on her breast, seized her by the neck and brake it, nor did he arise from her till life had left her. Then, seeing an open cabinet, he went in and found there a sword of damascened1 steel and a targe of Chinese iron; so he armed himself cap-à-pie and waited till the day. As soon as it was morning, he went forth and stood at the gate of the palace. When the Emirs came and would have gone in to do their service to the Queen, they found Gharib standing at the gate, clad in complete war-gear; and he said to them, “O folk, leave the service of idols and worship the All-wise King, Creator of Night and Day, the Lord of men, the Quickener of dry bones, for He made all things and hath dominion over all.” When the Kafirs heard this, they ran at him, but he fell on them like a rending lion and charged through them again and again, slaying of them much people; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Mujauhar”: the watery or wavy mark upon Eastern blades is called the “jauhar,” lit.=jewel. The peculiarity is also called water and grain, which gives rise to a host of double-entendres, puns, paronomasias and conceits more or less frigid.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Kafirs fell upon Gharib, he slew of them much people; but, when the night came, they overcame him by dint of numbers and would have taken him by strenuous effort, when behold, there descended upon the Infidels a thousand Marids, under the command of Zalzal, who plied them with the keen sabre and made them drink the cup of destruction, whilst Allah hurried their souls to Hell-fire, till but few were left of the people of Jan Shah to tell the tale and the rest cried out, “Quarter! Quarter!” and believed in the Requiting King, whom no one thing diverteth from other thing, the Destroyer of the Jabábirah1 and Exterminator of the Akásirah, Lord of this world and of the next. Then Zalzal saluted Gharib and gave him joy of his safety; and Gharib said to him, “How knowest thou of my case?” and he replied, “O my lord, my father kept me in prison two years, after sending thee to the Valley of Fire; then he released me, and I abode with him another year, till I was restored to favour with him, when I slew him and his troops submitted to me. I ruled them for a year’s space till, one Night, I lay down to sleep, having thee in thought, and saw thee in a dream, fighting against the people of Jan Shah; wherefore I took these thousand Marids and came to thee.” And Gharib marvelled at this happy conjuncture. Then he seized upon Jan Shah’s treasures and those of the slain and appointed a ruler over the city; after which the Marids took up Gharib and the monies and he lay the same night in the Castle of Crystal. He abode Zalzal’s guest six months, when he desired to depart; so Zalzal gave him rich presents and despatched three thousand Marids, who brought the spoils of Karaj-city and added them to those of Jan Shah. Then Zalzal loaded forty-thousand Marids with the treasure and himself taking up Gharib, flew with his host towards the city of Isbanir al-Madain where they arrived at midnight. But as Gharib glanced around he saw the walls invested on all sides by a conquering army,2 as it were the surging sea, so he said to Zalzal, “O my brother, what is the cause of this siege and whence came this army?” Then he alighted on the terrace roof of his palace and cried out, saying, “Ho, Star o’ Morn! Ho, Mahdiyah!” Whereupon the twain started up from sleep in amazement and said, “Who calleth us at this hour?” Quoth he, “’Tis I, your lord, Gharib, the Marvellous One of the deeds wondrous.” When the Princesses heard their lord’s voice, they rejoiced and so did the women and the eunuchs. Then Gharib went down to them and they threw themselves upon him and lullilooed with cries of joy, so that all the palace rang again and the Captains of the army awoke and said, “What is to do?” So they made for the palace and asked the eunuchs, “Hath one of the King’s women given birth to a child?”; and they answered, “No; but rejoice ye, for King Gharib hath returned to you.” So they rejoiced, and Gharib, after salams to the women came forth amongst his comrades, who threw themselves upon him and kissed his hands and feet, returning thanks to Almighty Allah and praising Him. Then he sat down on his throne, with his officers sitting about him, and questioned them of the beleaguering army. They replied, “O King, these troops sat down before the city three days ago and there are amongst them Jinns as well as men; but we know not what they want, for we have had with them neither battle nor speech.” And presently they added, “The name of the commander of the besieging army is Murad Shah and he hath with him an hundred thousand horse and three thousand foot, besides two hundred tribesmen of the Jinn.” Now the manner of his coming was wondrous. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Etymologically meaning tyrants or giants; and applied to great heathen conquerors like Nimrod and the mighty rulers of Syria, the Anakim, Giants and other peoples of Hebrew fable. The Akásirah are the Chosroës before noticed.
2 Arab. “Asker jarrár” lit. “drawing”: so in Egyptian slang “Nás jarrár”=folk who wish to draw your money out of your pocket, greedy cheats.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the cause of this army coming upon Isbanir city was wondrous. When the two men, whom Sabur had charged to drown his daughter Fakhr Taj, let her go, bidding her flee for her life, she went forth distracted, unknowing whither to turn and saying, “Where is thine eye, O Gharib, that thou mayst see my case and the misery I am in?”; and wandered on from country to country, and valley to valley, till she came to a Wady abounding in trees and streams, in whose midst stood a strong-based castle and a lofty-builded as it were one of the pavilions of Paradise. So she betook herself thither and entering the fortalice, found it hung and carpeted with stuffs of silk and great plenty of gold and silver vessels; and therein were an hundred beautiful damsels. When the maidens saw Fakhr Taj, they came up to her and saluted her, deeming her of the virgins of the Jinn, and asked her of her case. Quoth she, “I am daughter to the Persians’ King;” and told them all that had befallen her; which when they heard, they wept over her and condoled with her and comforted her, saying, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, for here shalt thou have meat and drink and raiment, and we all are thy handmaids.” She called down blessings on them and they brought her food, of which she ate till she was satisfied. Then quoth she to them, “Who is the owner of this palace and lord over you girls?” and quoth they, “King Salsál, son of Dal, is our master; he passeth a night here once in every month and fareth in the morning to rule over the tribes of the Jann.” So Fakhr Taj took up her abode with them and after five days she gave birth to a male child, as he were the moon. They cut his navel cord and kohl’d his eyes then they named him Murad Shah, and he grew up in his mother’s lap. After a while came King Salsal, riding on a paper white elephant, as he were a tower plastered with lime and attended by the troops of the Jinn. He entered the palace, where the hundred damsels met him and kissed ground before him, and amongst them Fakhr Taj. When the King saw her, he looked at her and said to the others, “Who is yonder damsel?”; and they replied, “She is the daughter of Sabur, King of the Persians and Turks and Daylamites.” Quoth he, “Who brought her hither?” So they repeated to him her story; whereat he was moved to pity for her and said to her, “Grieve not, but take patience till thy son be grown a man, when I will go to the land of the Ajamis and strike off thy father’s head from between his shoulders and seat thy son on the throne in his stead.” So she rose and kissed his hands and blessed him. Then she abode in the castle and her son grew up and was reared with the children of the King. They used to ride forth together a-hunting and birding and he became skilled in the chase of wild beasts and ravening lions and ate of their flesh, till his heart became harder than the rock. When he reached the age of fifteen, his spirit waxed big in him and he said to Fakhr Taj, “O my mamma, who is my papa?” She replied, “O my son, Gharib, King of Irak, is thy father and I am the King’s daughter, of the Persians,” and she told him her story. Quoth he, “Did my grandfather indeed give orders to slay thee and my father Gharib?”; and quoth she, “Yes.” Whereupon he, “By the claim thou hast on me for rearing me, I will assuredly go to thy father’s city and cut off his head and bring it into thy pre sence!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Murad Shah son of Fakhr Taj thus bespake his mother, she rejoiced in his speech. Now he used to go a-riding with two hundred Marids till he grew to man’s estate, when he and they fell to making raids and cutting off the roads and they pushed their razzias farther till one day he attacked the city of Shiraz and took it. Then he proceeded to the palace and cut off the King’s head, as he sat on his throne, and slew many of his troops, whereupon the rest cried “Quarter! Quarter!” and kissed his stirrups. Finding that they numbered ten thousand horse, he led them to Balkh, where he slew the King of the city and put his men to the rout and made himself master of the riches of the place. Thence he passed to Núrayn,1 at the head of an army of thirty-thousand horse, and the Lord of Nurayn came out to him, with treasure and tribute, and did him homage. Then he went on to Samarcand of the Persians and took the city, and after that to Akhlát2 and took that town also; nor was there any city he came to but he captured it. Thus Murad Shah became the head of a mighty host, and all the booty he made and spoils in the sundry cities he divided among his soldiery, who loved him for his velour and munificence. At last he came to Isbanir al-Madain and sat down before it, saying, “Let us wait till the rest of my army come up, when I will seize on my grandfather and solace my mother’s heart by smiting his neck in her presence.” So he sent for her, and by reason of this, there was no battle for three days, when Gharib and Zalzal arrived with the forty-thousand Marids, laden with treasure and presents. They asked concerning the besiegers, but none could enlighten them beyond saying that the host had been there encamped for three days without a fight taking place. Presently came Fakhr Taj, and her son Murad Shah embraced her saying, “Sit in thy tent till I bring thy father to thee.” And she sought succour for him of the Lord of the Worlds, the Lord of the heavens and the Lord of the earths. Next morning, as soon as it was day, Murad Shah mounted and rode forth, with the two hundred Marids on his right hand and the Kings of men on his left, whilst the kettle-drums beat to battle. When Gharib heard this, he also took to horse and, calling his people to the combat, rode out, with the jinn on his dexter hand and the men on his sinistral. Then came forth Murad Shah, armed cap-à-pie and crave his charger right and left, crying, “O folk, let none come forth to me but your King. If he conquer me, he shall be lord of both armies, and if I conquer him, I will slay him, as I have slain others.” When Gharib heard his speech, he said, “Avaunt, O dog of the Arabs!” And they charged at each other and lunged with lances, till they broke, then hewed at each other with swords, till the blades were notched; nor did they cease to advance and retire and wheel and career, till the day was half spent and their horses fell down under them, when they dismounted and gripped each other. Then Murad Shah seizing Gharib lifted him up and strove to dash him to the ground; but Gharib caught him by the ears and pulled him with his might, till it seemed to the youth as if the heavens were. falling on the earth3 and he cried out, with his heart in his mouth, saying, “I yield myself to thy mercy, O Knight of the Age!” So Gharib bound him — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Gharib caught Murad Shah by the ears and well nigh tore them off he cried, “I yield myself to thy mercy, O Knight of the Age!” So Gharib bound him, and the Marids his comrades would have charged and rescued him, but Gharib fell on them with a thousand Marids and was about to smite them down, when they cried out “Quarter! Quarter!” and threw away their arms. Then Gharib returned to his Shahmiyánah which was of green silk, embroidered with red gold and set with pearls and gems; and, seating himself on his throne, called for Murad Shah. So they brought him, shuffling in his manacles and shackles. When the prisoner saw him, he hung down his head for shame; and Gharib said to him, “O dog of the Arabs, who art thou that thou shouldst ride forth and measure thyself against kings?” Replied Murad Shah, “O my lord, reproach me not, for indeed I have excuse.” Quoth Gharib, “What manner of excuse hast thou?”; And quoth he, “Know, O my lord, that I came out to avenge my mother and my father on Sabur, King of the Persians; for he would have slain them; but my mother escaped and I know not whether he killed my father or not.” When Gharib heard these words, he replied, “By Allah, thou art indeed excusable! But who were thy father and mother and what are their names?” Murad Shah said, “My sire was Gharib, King of Al–Irak, and my mother Fakhr Taj, daughter of King Sabur of Persia.” When Gharib heard this, he gave a great cry and fell down fainting. They sprinkled rose-water on him, till he came to himself, when he said to Murad Shah, “Art thou indeed Gharib’s son by Fakhr Taj?”; and he replied, “Yes.” Cried Gharib, “Thou art a champion, the son of a champion. Loose my child!” And Sahim and Kaylajan went up to Murad Shah and set him free. Then Gharib embraced his son and, seating him beside himself, said to him, “Where is thy mother?” “She is with me in my tent,” answered Murad Shah; and Gharib said, “Bring her to me.” So Murad Shah mounted and repaired to his camp, where his comrades met him, rejoicing in his safety, and asked him of his case; but he answered, “This is no time for questions.” Then he went in to his mother and told her what had passed whereat she was gladdened with exceeding gladness: so he carried her to Gharib, and they two embraced and rejoiced in each other. Then Fakhr Taj and Murad Shah islamised and expounded The Faith to their troops, who all made profession with heart and tongue. After this, Gharib sent for Sabur and his son Ward Shah, and upbraided them for their evil dealing and expounded Al–Islam to them; but they refused to profess wherefore he crucified them on the gate of the city and the people decorated the town and held high festival. Then Gharib crowned Murad Shah with the crown of the Chosroës and made him King of the Persians and Turks and Medes; moreover, he made his uncle Al–Damigh, King over Al–Irak, and all the peoples and lands submitted themselves to Gharib. Then he abode in his kingship, doing justice among his lieges, wherefore all the people loved him, and he and his wives and comrades ceased not from all solace of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Societies, and extolled be the perfection of Him whose glory endureth for ever and aye and whose boons embrace all His creatures! This is every thing that hath come down to us of the history of Gharib and Ajib. And Abdullah bin Ma’amar al Kaysi hath thus related the tale of
I went one year on the pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah, and when I had accomplished my pilgrimage, I turned back for visitation of the tomb of the Prophet, whom Allah bless and keep! One night, as I sat in the garden,2 between the tomb and the pulpit, I heard a low moaning in a soft voice; so I listened to it and it said,
“Have the doves that moan in the lotus-tree
Woke grief in thy heart and bred misery?
Or doth memory of maiden in beauty deckt
Cause this doubt in thee, this despondency?
O night, thou art longsome for love-sick sprite
Complaining of Love and its ecstacy:
Thou makest him wakeful, who burns with fire
Of a love, like the live coal’s ardency.
The moon is witness my heart is held
By a moonlight brow of the brightest blee:
I reckt not to see me by Love ensnared
Till ensnared before I could reck or see.”
Then the voice ceased and not knowing whence it came to me I abode perplexed; but lo! it again took up its lament and recited,
“Came Rayya’s phantom to grieve thy sight
In the thickest gloom of the black-haired Night!
And hath love of slumber deprived those eyes
And the phantom-vision vexed thy sprite?
I cried to the Night, whose glooms were like
Seas that surge and billow with might, with might:
‘O Night, thou art longsome to lover who
Hath no aid nor help save the morning light!’
She replied, ‘Complain not that I am long:
’Tis love is the cause of thy longsome plight!’”
Now, at the first of the couplets, I sprang up and made for the quarter whence the sound came, nor had the voice ended repeating them, ere I was with the speaker and saw a youth of the utmost beauty, the hair of whose side face had not sprouted and in whose cheeks tears had worn twin trenches. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 I cannot understand why Trébutien, iii., 457, writes this word Afba. He remarks that it is the “Oina and Riya” of Jámí, elegantly translated by M. de Chezy in the Journal Asiatique, vol. 1, 144.
2 I have described this part of the Medinah Mosque in Pilgrimage ii., 62–69. The name derives from a saying of Mohammed (of which there are many variants), “Between my tomb and my pulpit is a garden of the Gardens of Paradise” (Burckhardt, Arabia, p. 337). The whole Southern portico (not only a part) now enjoys that honoured name and the tawdry decorations are intended to suggest a parterre.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah bin Ma’amar al-Kaysi thus continued:— So I sprang up and made for the quarter whence the sound came, nor had the voice ended repeating the verses, ere I was with the speaker and saw a youth on whose side face the hair had not sprouted and in whose cheeks tears had worn twin trenches. Quoth I to him, “Fair befal thee for a youth!”; and quoth he, “And thee also! Who art thou?” I replied, “Abdullah bin Ma’amar al-Kaysi;” and he said, “Dost thou want aught?” I rejoined, “I was sitting in the garden and naught hath troubled me this night but thy voice. With my life would I ransom thee! What aileth thee?” He said, “Sit thee down.” So I sat down and he continued, “I am Otbah bin al-Hubáb bin al-Mundhir bin al-Jamúh the Ansári.1 I went out in the morning to the Mosque Al–Ahzáb2 and occupied myself there awhile with prayer-bows and prostrations, after which I withdrew apart, to worship privily. But lo! up came women, as they were moons, walking with a swaying gait, and surrounding a damsel of passing loveliness, perfect in beauty and grace, who stopped before me and said, ‘O Otbah, what sayst thou of union with one who seeketh union with thee?’ Then she left me and went away; and since that time I have had no tidings of her nor come upon any trace of her; and behold, I am distracted and do naught but remove from place to place.” Then he cried out and fell to the ground fainting. When he came to himself, it was as if the damask of his cheeks were dyed with safflower,3 and he recited these couplets,
“I see you with my heart from far countrie
Would Heaven you also me from far could see
My heart and eyes for you are sorrowing;
My soul with you abides and you with me.
I take no joy in life when you’re unseen
Or Heaven or Garden of
Eternity.”
Said I, “O Otbah, O son of my uncle, repent to thy Lord and crave pardon for thy sin; for before thee is the terror of standing up to Judgment.” He replied, “Far be it from me so to do. I shall never leave to love till the two mimosa-gatherers return.”4 I abode with him till daybreak, when I said to him, “Come let us go to the Mosque Al–Ahzab.” So we went thither and sat there, till we had prayed the midday prayers, when lo! up came the women; but the damsel was not among them. Quoth they to him, “O Otbah, what thinkest thou of her who seeketh union with thee?” He said, “And what of her?”; and they replied, “Her father hath taken her and departed to Al–Samawah.”5 I asked them the name of the damsel and they said, “She is called Rayyá, daughter of Al–Ghitríf al-Sulami.”6 Whereupon Otbah raised his head and recited these verses,
“My friends, Rayya hath mounted soon as morning shone,
And to Samawah’s wilds her caravan is gone.
My friends, I’ve wept till I can weep no more, Oh, say,
Hath any one a tear that I can take on loan.”
Then said I to him, “O Otbah, I have brought with me great wealth, wherewith I desire to succour generous men; and by Allah, I will lavish it before thee,7 so thou mayst attain thy desire and more than thy desire! Come with me to the assembly of the Ansaris.” So we rose and went, till we entered their assembly, when I salam’d to them and they returned my greeting civilly. Then quoth I, “O assembly, what say ye of Otbah and his father?”: and they replied, “They are of the princes of the Arabs.” I continued, “Know that he is smitten with the calamity of love and I desire your furtherance to Al–Samawah.” And they said, “To hear is to obey.” So they mounted with us, the whole party, and we rode till we drew near the place of the Banu Sulaym. Now when Ghitrif heard of our being near, he hastened forth to meet us, saying, “Long life to you, O nobles!”; whereto we replied, “And to thee also! Behold we are thy guests.” Quoth he, “Ye have lighted down at a most hospitable abode and ample;” and alighting he cried out, “Ho, all ye slaves, come down!” So they came down and spread skin-rugs and cushions and slaughtered sheep and cattle; but we said, “We will not taste of thy food, till thou have accomplished our need.” He asked, “And what is your need?”; and we answered, “We demand thy noble daughter in marriage for Otbah bin Hubab bin Mundhir the illustrious and well born.” “O my brethren,” said he, “she whom you demand is owner of herself, and I will go in to her and tell her.” So he rose in wrath8 and went in to Rayya, who said to him, “O my papa, why do I see thee show anger?” And he replied, saying, “Certain of the Ansaris have come upon me to demand thy hand of me in marriage.” Quoth she, “They are noble chiefs; the Prophet, on whom be the choicest blessings and peace, intercedeth for them with Allah. For whom among them do they ask me?” Quoth he, “For a youth known as Otbah bin al-Hubab;” and she said, “I have heard of Otbah that he performeth what he promised and findeth what he seeketh.” Ghitrif cried, “I swear that I will never marry thee to him; no, never, for there hath been reported to me somewhat of thy converse with him.” Said she, “What was that? But in any case, I swear that the Ansaris shall not be uncivilly rejected; wherefore do thou offer them a fair excuse.” “How so?” “Make the dowry heavy to them and they will desist.” “Thou sayst well,” said he, and going out in haste, told the Ansaris, “The damsel of the tribe9 consenteth; but she requireth a dowry worthy herself. Who engageth for this?” “I,” answered I. Then said he, “I require for her a thousand bracelets of red gold and five thousand dirhams of the coinage of Hajar10 and a hundred pieces of woollen cloth and striped stuffs11 of Al–Yaman and five bladders of ambergris.” Said I, “Thou shalt have that much; dost thou consent?”; and he said, “I do consent.” So I despatched to Al–Medinah the Illumined12 a party of the Ansaris, who brought all for which I had become surety; whereupon they slaughtered sheep and cattle and the folk assembled to eat of the food. We abode thus forty days when Ghitrif said to us, “Take your bride.” So we sat her in a dromedary-litter and her father equipped her with thirty camel-loads of things of price; after which we farewelled him and journeyed till we came within a day’s journey of Al–Medinah the Illumined, when there fell upon us horsemen, with intent to plunder, and methinks they were of the Banu Sulaym, Otbah drove at them and slew of them much people, but fell back, wounded by a lance-thrust, and presently dropped to the earth. Then there came to us succour of the country people, who drove away the highwaymen; but Otbah’s days were ended. So we said, “Alas for Otbah, oh!;” and the damsel hearing it cast herself down from the camel and throwing herself upon him, cried out grievously and repeated these couplets,
“Patient I seemed, yet Patience shown by me
Was but self-guiling till thy sight I see:
Had my soul done as due my life had gone,
Had fled before mankind forestalling thee:
Then, after me and thee none shall to friend
Be just, nor any soul with soul agree.”
Then she sobbed a single sob and gave up the ghost. We dug one grave for them and laid them in the earth, and I returned to the dwellings of my people, where I abode seven years. Then I betook me again to Al–Hijaz and entering Al–Medinah the Illumined for pious visitation said in my mind, “By Allah, I will go again to Otbah’s tomb!” So I repaired thither, and, behold, over the grave was a tall tree, on which hung fillets of red and green and yellow stuffs.13 So I asked the people of the place, “How be this tree called?”; and they answered, “The tree of the Bride and the Bridegroom.” I abode by the tomb a day and a night, then went my way; and this is all I know of Otbah. Almighty Allah have mercy upon him! And they also tell this tale of
1 Mohammed’s companions (Asháb), numbering some five hundred, were divided into two orders, the Muhájirin (fugitives) or Meccans who accompanied the Apostle to Al–Medinah (Pilgrimage ii. 138) and the Ansár (Auxiliaries) or Medinites who invited him to their city and lent him zealous aid (Ibid. ii. 130). The terms constantly occur in Arab history.
2 The “Mosque of the Troops,” also called Al–Fath (victory), the largest of the “Four Mosques:” it is still a place of pious visitation where prayer is granted. Koran, chap. xxxiii., and Pilgrimage ii. 325.
3 Arab. “Al–Wars,” with two meanings. The Alfáz Adwiyah gives it=Kurkum, curcuma, turmeric, safran d’Inde; but popular usage assigns it to Usfur, Kurtum or safflower (carthamus tinctorius). I saw the shrub growing all about Harar which exports it, and it is plentiful in Al–Yaman (Niebuhr, p. 133), where women affect it to stain the skin a light yellow and remove freckles: it is also an internal remedy in leprosy. But the main use is that of a dye, and the Tob stained with Wars is almost universal in some parts of Arabia. Sonnini (p. 510) describes it at length and says that Europeans in Egypt call it “Parrot-seeds” because the bird loves it, and the Levant trader “Saffrenum.”
4 Two men of the great ‘Anazah race went forth to gather Karaz, the fruit of the Sant (Mimosa Nilotica) both used for tanning, and never returned. Hence the proverb which is obsolete in conversation. See Burckhardt, Prov. 659: where it takes the place of “ad Graecas Kalendas.”
5 Name of a desert (Mafázah) and a settlement on the Euphrates’ bank between Basrah and the site of old Kufah near Kerbela; the well known visitation place in Babylonian Irak.
6 Of the Banu Sulaym tribe; the adjective is Sulami not Sulaymi.
7 Arab. “Amám-ak”=before thee (in space); from the same root as Imam=antistes, leader of prayer; and conducing to perpetual puns, e.g. “You are Imám-i (my leader) and therefore should be Amám-i” (in advance of me).
8 He was angry, as presently appears, because he had heard of certain love passages between the two and this in Arabia is a dishonour to the family.
9 Euphemy for “my daughter.”
10 The Badawin call a sound dollar “Kirsh hajar” or “Riyal hajar” (a stone dollar; but the word is spelt with the greater h).
11 Arab. Burdah and Habárah. The former often translated mantle is a thick woollen stuff, brown or gray, woven oblong and used like a plaid by day and by night. Mohammed’s Burdah woven in his Harem and given to the poet, Ka’ab, was 7 1/2 ft. long by 4 1/2: it is still in the upper Serraglio of Stambul. In early days the stuff was mostly striped; now it is either plain or with lines so narrow that it looks like one colour. The Habarah is a Burd made in Al–Yaman and not to be confounded with the Egyptian mantilla of like name (Lane, M. E. chapt. iii.).
12 Every Eastern city has its special title. Al–Medinah is entitled “Al–Munawwarah” (the Illumined) from the blinding light which surrounds the Prophet’s tomb and which does not show to eyes profane (Pilgrimage ii. 3). I presume that the idea arose from the huge lamps of “The Garden.” I have noted that Mohammed’s coffin suspended by magnets is an idea unknown to Moslems, but we find the fancy in Al–Harawi related of St. Peter, “Simon Cephas (the rock) is in the City of Great Rome, in its largest church within a silver ark hanging by chains from the ceiling.” (Lee, Ibn Batutah, p. 161).
13 Here the fillets are hung instead of the normal rag-strips to denote an honoured tomb. Lane (iii. 242) and many others are puzzled about the use of these articles. In many cases they are suspended to trees in order to transfer sickness from the body to the tree and whoever shall touch it. The Sawáhílí people term such articles a Keti (seat or vehicle) for the mysterious haunter of the tree who prefers occupying it to the patient’s person. Briefly the custom still popular throughout Arabia, is African and Fetish.
It is related that Hind, daughter of Al–Nu’man, was the fairest woman of her day, and her beauty and loveliness were reported to Al–Hajjaj, who sought her in marriage and lavished much treasure on her. So he took her to wife, engaging to give her a dowry of two hundred thousand dirhams in case of divorce, and when he went into her, he abode with her a long time. One day after this, he went in to her and found her looking at her face in the mirror and saying,
“Hind is an Arab filly purest bred,
Which hath been covered by a mongrel mule;
An colt of horse she throw by Allah! well;
If mule, it but results from mulish rule.”2
When Al–Hajjaj heard this, he turned back and went his way, unseen of Hind; and, being minded to put her away, he sent Abdullah bin Tahir to her, to divorce her. So Abdullah went in to her and said to her, “Al–Hajjaj Abu Mohammed saith to thee: ‘Here be the two hundred thousand dirhams of thy contingent dowry he oweth thee’; and he hath deputed me to divorce thee.” Replied she, “O Ibn Tahir, I gladly agree to this; for know that I never for one day took pleasure in him; so, if we separate, by Allah, I shall never regret him, and these two hundred thousand dirhams I give to thee as a reward for the glad tidings thou bringest me of my release from yonder dog of the Thakafites.”3 After this, the Commander of the Faithful, Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, heard of her beauty and loveliness, her stature and symmetry, her sweet speech and the amorous grace of her glances and sent to her, to ask her in marriage; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Al–Mas’údí (chap. xcv.), mentions a Hind bint Asmá and tells a facetious story of her and the “enemy of Allah,” the poet Jarir.
2 Here the old Shiah hatred of the energetic conqueror of Oman crops out again. Hind’s song is that of Maysum concerning her husband Mu’áwiyah which Mrs. Godfrey Clark (‘Ilâm-en-Nâs, p. 108) thus translates:—
A hut that the winds make tremble
Is dearer to me than a noble palace;
And a dish of crumbs on the floor of my home
Is dearer to me than a varied feast;
And the soughing of the breeze through every crevice
Is dearer to me than the beating of drums.
Compare with Dr. Carlyle’s No. X.:—
The russet suit of camel’s hair
With spirits light and eye serene
Is dearer to my bosom far
Than all the trappings of a queen, etc. etc.
And with mine (Pilgrimage iii. 262):—
O take these purple robes away,
Give back my cloak of camel’s hair
And bear me from this towering pile
To where the black tents flap i’ the air, etc. etc.
3 Al-Hajjaj’s tribal name was Al–Thakifi or descendant of Thakíf. According to Al–Mas’udi, he was son of Faríghah (the tall Beauty) by Yúsuf bin Ukayl the Thakafite and vint au monde tout difforme avec l’anus obstrué. As he refused the breast, Satan, in human form, advised suckling him with the blood of two black kids, a black buck-goat and a black snake; which had the desired effect.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Prince of True Believers, Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, hearing of the lady’s beauty and loveliness, sent to ask her in marriage; and she wrote him in reply a letter, in which, after the glorification of Allah and benediction of His Prophet, she said, “But afterwards. Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that the dog hath lapped in the vase.” When the Caliph read her answer, he laughed and wrote to her, citing his saying (whom may Allah bless and keep!) “If a dog lap in the vessel of one of you, let him wash seven times, once thereof with earth,” and adding, “Wash the affront from the place of use.”1 With this she could not gainsay him; so she replied to him, saying (after praise and blessing), “O Commander of the Faithful I will not consent save on one condition, and if thou ask me what it is, I reply that Al–Hajjaj lead my camel to the town where thou tarriest barefoot and clad as he is.”2 When the Caliph read her letter, he laughed long and loudly and sent to Al–Hajjaj, bidding him to do as she wished. He dared not disobey the order, so he submitted to the Caliph’s commandment and sent to Hind, telling her to make ready for the journey. So she made ready and mounted her litter, when Al–Hajjaj with his suite came up to Hind’s door and as she mounted and her damsels and eunuchs rode around her, he dismounted and took the halter of her camel and led it along, barefooted, whilst she and her damsels and tirewomen laughed and jeered at him and made mock of him. Then she said to her tirewoman, “Draw back the curtain of the litter;” and she drew back the curtain, till Hind was face to face with Al–Hajjaj, whereupon she laughed at him and he improvised this couplet,
“Though now thou jeer, O Hind, how many a night
I’ve left thee wakeful sighing for the light.”
And she answered him with these two,
“We reck not, an our life escape from bane,
For waste of wealth and gear that went in vain:
Money may be regained and rank re-won
When one is cured of malady and pain.”
And she ceased not to laugh at him and make sport of him, till they drew near the city of the Caliph, when she threw down a dinar with her own hand and said to Al–Hajjaj, “O camel-driver, I have dropped a dirham; look for it and give it to me.” So he looked and seeing naught but the dinar, said, “This is a dinar.” She replied, “Nay, ’tis a dirham.” But he said, “This is a dinar.” Then quoth she, “Praise be Allah who hath given us in exchange for a paltry dirham a dinar! Give it us.” And Al–Hajjaj was abashed at this. Then he carried her to the palace of the Commander of the Faithful, and she went in to him and became his favourite. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that men also tell a tale anent
There lived once, in the days of the Caliph Sulayman bin Abd al-Malik2 a man of the Banu Asad, by name Khuzaymah bin Bishr, who was famed for bounty and abundant wealth and excellence and righteous dealing with his brethren. He continued thus till times grew strait with him and he became in need of the aid of those Moslem brethren on whom he had lavished favour and kindness. So they succoured him a while and then grew weary of him, which when he saw, he went in to his wife who was the daughter of his father’s brother, and said to her, “O my cousin, I find a change in my brethren; wherefore I am resolved to keep my house till death come to me.” So he shut his door and abode in his home, living on that which he had by him, till it was spent and he knew not what to do. Now Ikrimah al-Raba’í, surnamed Al–Fayyáz, governor of Mesopotamia,3 had known him, and one day, as he sat in his Audience-chamber, mention was made of Khuzaymah, whereupon quoth Ikrimah, “How is it with him?” And quoth they, “He is in a plight past telling, and hath shut his door and keepeth the house.” Ikrimah rejoined, “This cometh but of his excessive generosity: but how is it that Khuzaymah bin Bishr findeth nor comforter nor requiter?” And they replied, “He hath found naught of this.” So when it was night, Ikrimah took four thousand dinars and laid them in one purse; then, bidding saddle his beast, he mounted and rode privily to Khuzaymah’s house, attended only by one of his pages, carrying the money. When he came to the door, he alighted and taking the purse from the page made him withdraw afar off; after which he went up to the door and knocked. Khuzaymah came out to him, and he gave him the purse, saying, “Better thy case herewith.” He took it and finding it heavy put it from his hand and laying hold of the bridle of Ikrimah’s horse, asked, “Who art thou? My soul be thy ransom!” Answered Ikrimah, “O man I come not to thee at a time like this desiring that thou shouldst know me.” Khuzaymah rejoined, “I will not let thee go till thou make thyself known to me,” whereupon Ikrimah said “I am hight Jabir Atharat al-Kiram.”4 Quoth Khuzaymah, “Tell me more.” But Ikrimah cried, “No,” and fared forth, whilst Khuzaymah went in to his cousin and said to her, “Rejoice for Allah hath sent us speedy relief and wealth; if these be but dirhams, yet are they many. Arise and light the lamp.” She said, “I have not wherewithal to light it.” So he spent the night handling the coins and felt by their roughness that they were dinars, but could not credit it. Meanwhile Ikrimah returned to his own house and found that his wife had missed him and asked for him, and when they told her of his riding forth, she misdoubted of him, and said to him, “Verily the Wali of Al–Jazirah rideth not abroad after such an hour of the night, unattended and secretly, save to a wife or a mistress.” He answered, “Allah knoweth that I went not forth to either of these.” “Tell me then wherefore thou wentest forth?” “I went not forth at this hour save that none should know it.” “I must needs be told.” “Wilt thou keep the matter secret, if I tell thee?” “Yes!” So he told her the state of the case, adding, “Wilt thou have me swear to thee?” Answered she, “No, no, my heart is set at ease and trusteth in that which thou hast told me.” As for Khuzaymah, soon as it was day he made his peace with his creditors and set his affairs in order; after which he got him ready and set out for the Court of Sulayman bin Abd al-Malik, who was then sojourning in Palestine.5 When he came to the royal gate, he sought admission of the chamberlain, who went in and told the Caliph of his presence. Now he was renowned for his beneficence and Sulayman knew of him; so he bade admit him. When he entered, he saluted the Caliph after the usual fashion of saluting6 and the King asked, “O Khuzaymah, what hath kept thee so long from us?” Answered he, “Evil case,” and quoth the Caliph, “What hindered thee from having recourse to us?” Quoth he, “My infirmity, O Commander of the Faithful!” “And why,” said Sulayman, “comest thou to us now?” Khuzaymah replied, “Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that I was sitting one night late in my house, when a man knocked at the door and did thus and thus;” and he went on to tell him of all that had passed between Ikrimah and himself from first to last. Sulayman asked, “Knowest thou the man?” and Khuzaymah answered, “No, O Commander of the Faithful, he was reserved7 and would say naught save, ‘I am hight Jabir Atharat al-Kiram.’” When Sulayman heard this, his heart burned within him for anxiety to discover the man, and he said, “If we knew him, truly we would requite him for his generosity.” Then he bound for Khuzaymah a banner8 and made him Governor of Mesopotamia, in the stead of Ikrimah Al–Fayyaz; and he set out for Al–Jazirah. When he drew near the city, Ikrimah and the people of the place came forth to meet him and they saluted each other and went on into the town, where Khuzaymah took up his lodging in the Government-house and bade take security for Ikrimah and that he should be called to account.9 So an account was taken against him and he was found to be in default for much money; whereupon Khuzaymah required of him payment, but he said, “I have no means of paying aught.” Quoth Khuzaymah, “It must be paid;” and quoth Ikrimah, “I have it not; do what thou hast to do.” So Khuzaymah ordered him to gaol. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. “The overflowing,” with benefits; on account of his generosity.
2 The seventh Ommiade A. H. 96–99 (715–719). He died of his fine appetite after eating at a sitting a lamb, six fowls, seventy pomegranates, and 11 1/4 lbs. of currants. He was also proud of his youth and beauty and was wont to say, “Mohammed was the Apostle and Abu Bakr witness to the Truth; Omar the Discriminator and Othman the Bashful, Mu’awiyah the Mild and Yazid the Patient; Abd al-Malik the Administrator and Walid the Tyrant; but I am the Young King!”
3 Arab. Al–Jazírah, “the Island;” name of the region and the capital.
4 i.e. “Repairer of the Slips of the Generous,” an evasive reply, which of course did not deceive the questioner.
5 Arab. “Falastín,” now obsolete. The word has echoed far west and the name of the noble race has been degraded to “Philister,” a bourgeois, a greasy burgher.
6 Saying, “The Peace be with thee, O Prince of True Believers!”
7 Arab. “Mutanakkir,” which may also mean proud or in disguise.
8 On appointment as viceroy. See vol. iii 307.
9 The custom with outgoing Governors. It was adopted by the Spaniards and Portuguese especially in America. The generosity of Ikrimah without the slightest regard to justice or common honesty is characteristic of the Arab in story-books.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Khuzaymah, having ordered the imprisonment of Ikrimah Al–Fayyaz, sent to him again to demand payment of the debt; but he replied, “I am not of those who preserve their wealth at the expense of their honour; do what thou wilt.” Then Khuzaymah bade load him with irons and kept him in prison a month or more, till confinement began to tell upon him and he became wasted. After this, tidings of his plight travelled to the daughter of his uncle who was troubled with sore concern thereat and, sending for a freedwoman of hers, a woman of abundant judgment, and experience, said to her, “Go forthwith to the Emir Khuzaymah’s gate and say, ‘I have a counsel for the Emir.’ If they ask what it is, add, ‘I will not tell it save to himself’; and when thou enterest to him, beg to see him in private and when private ask him, ‘What be this deed thou hast done? Hath Jabir Atharat al-Kiram deserved of thee no better reward than to be cast into strait prison and hard bond of irons?’” The woman did as she was bid, and when Khuzaymah heard her words, he cried out at the top of his voice, saying, “Alas, the baseness of it! Was it indeed he?” And she answered, “Yes.” Then he bade saddle his beast forthwith and, summoning the honourable men of the city, repaired with them to the prison and opening the door, went in with them to Ikrimah, whom they found sitting in evil case, worn out and wasted with blows and misery. When he looked at Khuzaymah, he was abashed and hung his head; but the other bent down to him and kissed his face; whereupon he raised his head and asked, “What maketh thee do this?” Answered Khuzaymah, “The generosity of thy dealing and the vileness of my requital.” And Ikrimah said, “Allah pardon us and thee!” Then Khuzaymah commanded the jailor to strike off Ikrimah’s fetters and clap them on his own feet; but Ikrimah said, “What is this thou wilt do?” Quoth the other, “I have a mind to suffer what thou hast suffered.” Quoth Ikrimah, “I conjure thee by Allah, do not so!” Then they went out together and returned to Khuzaymah’s house, where Ikrimah would have farewelled him and wended his way; but he forbade him and Ikrimah said, “What is thy will of me?” Replied Khuzaymah, “I wish to change thy case, for my shame before the daughter of thine uncle is yet greater than my shame before thee.” So he bade clear the bath and entering with Ikrimah, served him there in person and when they went forth be bestowed on him a splendid robe of honour and mounted him and gave him much money. Then he carried him to his house and asked his leave to make his excuses to his wife and obtained her pardon. After this he besought him to accompany him to the Caliph who was then abiding at Ramlah1 and he agreed. So they journeyed thither, and when they reached the royal quarters the chamberlain went in and acquainted the Caliph Sulayman bin Abd al-Malik with Khuzaymah’s arrival, whereat he was troubled and said, “What! is the Governor of Mesopotamia come without our command? This can be only on some grave occasion.” Then he bade admit him and said, before saluting him, “What is behind thee, O Khuzaymah?” Replied he, “Good, O Commander of the Faithful.” Asked Sulayman, “What bringeth thee?”; and he answered, saying, “I have discovered Jabir Atharat al-Kiram and thought to gladden thee with him, knowing thine excessive desire to know him and thy longing to see him.” “Who is he?” quoth the Caliph and quoth Khuzaymah, “He is Ikrimah Al–Fayyaz.” So Sulayman called for Ikrimah, who approached and saluted him as Caliph; and the King welcomed him and making him draw near his sitting-place, said to him, “O Ikrimah, thy good deed to him hath brought thee naught but evil,” adding, “Now write down in a note thy needs each and every, and that which thou desirest.” He did so and the Caliph commanded to do all that he required and that forthwith. Moreover he gave him ten thousand dinars more than he asked for and twenty chests of clothes over and above that he sought, and calling for a spear, bound him a banner and made him Governor over Armenia and Azarbiján2 and Mesopotamia, saying, “Khuzaymah’s case is in thy hands, an thou wilt, continue him in his office, and if thou wilt, degrade him.” And Ikrimah said, “Nay, but I restore him to his office, O Commander of the Faithful.” Then they went out from him and ceased not to be Governors under Sulayman bin Abd al-Malik all the days of his Caliphate. And they also tell a tale of
There lived in the reign of the Caliph Hishám, 1 son of Abd al-Malik, a man called Yúnus the Scribe well-known to the general, and he set out one day on a journey to Damascus, having with him a slave-girl of surpassing beauty and loveliness, whom he had taught all that was needful to her and whose price was an hundred thousand dirhams. When they drew near to Damascus, the caravan halted by the side of a lake and Yunus went down to a quiet place with his damsel and took out some victual he had with him and a leather bottle of wine. As he sat at meat, behold, came up a young man of goodly favour and dignified presence, mounted on a sorrel horse and followed by two eunuchs, and said to him, “Wilt thou accept me to guest?” “Yes,” replied Yunus. So the stranger alighted and said, “Give me to drink of thy wine.” Yunus gave him to drink and he said, “If it please thee, sing us a song.” So Yunus sang this couplet extempore,
“She joineth charms were never seen conjoined in mortal dress:
And for her love she makes me love my tears and wakefulness.”
At which the stranger rejoiced with exceeding joy and Yunus gave him to drink again and again, till the wine got the better of him and he said, “Bid thy slave-girl sing.” So she improvised this couplet,
“A houri, by whose charms my heart is moved to sore distress:
Nor wand of tree nor sun nor moon her rivals I confess!”
The stranger was overjoyed with this and they sat drinking till nightfall, when they prayed the evening-prayer and the youth said to Yunus, “What bringeth thee to our city?” He replied, “Quest of wherewithal to pay my debts and better my case.” Quoth the other, “Wilt thou sell me this slave-girl for thirty thousand dirhams?” Whereto quoth Yunus, “I must have more than that.” He asked, “Will forty thousand content thee?”; but Yunus answered, “That would only settle my debts, and I should remain empty-handed.” Rejoined the stranger, “We will take her of thee of fifty thousand dirhams2 and give thee a suit of clothes to boot and the expenses of thy journey and make thee a sharer in my condition as long as thou livest.” Cried Yunus, “I sell her to thee on these terms.” Then said the young man, “Wilt thou trust me to bring thee the money to-morrow and let me take her with me, or shall she abide with thee till I pay down her price?” Whereto wine and shame and awe of the stranger led Yunus to reply, “I will trust thee; take her and Allah bless thee in her!” Whereupon the visitor bade one of his pages sit her before him on his beast, and mounting his own horse, farewelled of Yunus and rode away out of sight. Hardly had he left him, when the seller bethought himself and knew that he had erred in selling her and said to himself, “What have I done? I have delivered my slave-girl to a man with whom I am unacquainted, neither know I who he is; and grant that I were acquainted with him, how am I to get at him?” So he abode in thought till the morning, when he prayed the dawn-prayers and his companions entered Damascus, whilst he sat, perplexed and wotting not what to do, till the sun scorched him and it irked him to abide there. He thought to enter the city, but said in his mind, “If I enter Damascus, I cannot be sure but that the messenger will come and find me not, in which case I shall have sinned against myself a second sin.” Accordingly he sat down in the shade of a wall that was there, and towards the wane of day, up came one of the eunuchs whom he had seen with the young man, whereat great joy possessed Yunus and he said in himself, “I know not that aught hath ever given me more delight than the sight of this castrato.” When the eunuch reached him, he said to him, “O my lord, we have kept thee long waiting”; but Yunus disclosed nothing to him of the torments of anxiety he had suffered. Then quoth the castrato, “Knowest thou the man who bought the girl of thee?”; and quoth Yunus, “No,” to which the other rejoined, “’Twas Walid bin Sahl,3 the Heir Apparent.” And Yunus was silent. Then said the eunuch, “Ride,” and made him mount a horse he had with him and they rode till they came to a mansion, where they dismounted and entered. Here Yunus found the damsel, who sprang up at his sight and saluted him. He asked her how she had fared with him who had bought her and she answered, “He lodged me in this apartment and ordered me all I needed.” Then he sat with her awhile, till suddenly one of the servants of the houseowner came in and bade him rise and follow him. So he followed the man into the presence of his master and found him yesternight’s guest, whom he saw seated on his couch and who said to him, “Who art thou?” “I am Yunus the Scribe.” “Welcome to thee, O Yunus! by Allah, I have long wished to look on thee; for I have heard of thy report. How didst thou pass the night?” “Well, may Almighty Allah advance thee!” “Peradventure thou repentedest thee of that thou didst yesterday and saidst to thyself: I have delivered my slave-girl to a man with who I am not acquainted, neither know I his name nor whence he cometh?” “Allah forbid, O Emir, that I should repent over her! Had I made gift of her to the Prince, she were the least of the gifts that are given unto him,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Tenth Ommiade A.H. 105–125 (=724–743), a wise and discreet ruler with an inclination to avarice and asceticism. According to some, the Ommiades produced only three statesmen, Mu’awayah, Abd al-Malik and Hisham; and the reign of the latter was the end of sage government and wise administration.
2 About £1,250, which seems a long price; but in those days Damascus had been enriched with the spoils of the world adjacent.
3 Eleventh Ommiade dynasty, A.H. 125–126 (=743–744). Ibn Sahl (son of ease, i.e. free and easy) was a nickname; he was the son of Yazíd II. and brother of Hishám. He scandalised the lieges by his profligacy, wishing to make the pilgrimage in order to drink upon the Ka’abah-roof; so they attacked the palace and lynched him. His death is supposed to have been brought about (27th of Jamáda al-Akhirah = April 16, 744) by his cousin and successor Yazíd (No. iii.) surnamed the Retrencher. The tale in the text speaks well for him; but generosity amongst the Arabs covers a multitude of sins, and people say, “Better a liberal sinner than a stingy saint.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Yunus the Scribe said to Walid, “Allah forbid I should repent over her! Had I made gift of her to the Prince, she were the least of gifts that are given to him, nor indeed is she worthy of his rank,” Walid rejoined, “By Allah, but I repented me of having carried her away from thee and said to myself, ‘This man is a stranger and knoweth me not, and I have taken him by surprise and acted inconsiderately by him, in my haste to take the damsel!’ Dost thou recall what passed between us?” Quoth Yunus, “Yes!” and quoth Walid, “Dost thou sell this damsel to me for fifty thousand dirhams?” And Yunus said, “I do.” Then the Prince called to one of his servants to bring him fifty thousand dirhams and a thousand and five hundred dinars to boot, and gave them all to Yunus, saying, “Take the slave’s price: the thousand dinars are for thy fair opinion of us and the five hundred are for thy viaticum and for what present thou shalt buy for thy people. Art thou content?” “I am content,” answered Yunus and kissed his hands, saying, “By Allah, thou hast filled my eyes and my hands and my heart!” Quoth Walid, “By Allah, I have as yet had no privacy of her nor have I taken my fill of her singing. Bring her to me!” So she came and he bade her sit, then said to her, “Sing.” And she sang these verses,
“O thou who dost comprise all Beauty’s boons!
O sweet of nature, fain of coquetry!
In Turks and Arabs many beauties dwell;
But, O my fawn, in none thy charms I see.
Turn to thy lover, O my fair, and keep
Thy word, though but in visioned phantasy:
Shame and disgrace are lawful for thy sake
And wakeful nights full fill with joy and glee:
I’m not the first for thee who fared distraught;
Slain by thy love how many a many be!
I am content with thee for worldly share
Dearer than life and good art thou to me!”
When he heard this, he was delighted exceedingly and praised Yunus for his excellent teaching of her and her fair education. Then he bade his servants bring him a roadster with saddle and housings for his riding, and a mule to carry his gear, and said to him, “O Yunus, when it shall reach thee that command hath come to me, do thou join me; and, by Allah, I will fill thy hands with good and advance thee to honour and make thee rich as long as thou livest!” So Yunus said, “I took his goods and went my ways; and when Walid succeeded to the Caliphate, I repaired to him; and by Allah, he kept his promise and entreated me with high honour and munificence. Then I abode with him in all content of case and rise of rank and mine affairs prospered and my wealth increased and goods and farms became mine, such as sufficed me and will suffice my heirs after me; nor did I cease to abide with Walid, till he was slain, the mercy of Almighty Allah be on him!” And men tell a tale concerning
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid was walking one day with Ja’afar the Barmecide, when he espied a company of girls drawing water and went up to them, having a mind to drink. As he drew near, one of them turned to her fellows and improvised these lines,
“Thy phantom bid thou fleet, and fly
Far from the couch whereon
I lie;
So I may rest and quench the fire,
Bonfire in bones aye flaming high;
My love-sick form Love’s restless palm
Rolls o’er the rug whereon I sigh:
How ’tis with me thou wottest well
How long, then, union wilt deny?”
The Caliph marvelled at her elegance and eloquence. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph, hearing the girl’s verses, marvelled at her elegance and eloquence, and said to her, “O daughter of nobles, are these thine own or a quotation?” Replied she, “They are my very own,” and he rejoined, “An thou say sooth keep the sense and change the rhyme.” So she said,
“Bid thou thy phantom distance keep
And quit this couch the while I sleep;
So I may rest and quench the flames
Through all my body rageful creep,
In love-sick one, whom passion’s palms
Roll o’er the bed where grief I weep;
How ’tis with me thou wottest well;
All but thy union hold I cheap!”
Quoth the Caliph, “This also is stolen”; and quoth she, “Nay, ’tis my very own.” He said, “If it be indeed thine own, change the rhyme again and keep the sense.” So she recited the following,
“Unto thy phantom deal behest
To shun my couch the while I rest,
So I repose and quench the fire
That burns what lieth in my breast,
My weary form Love’s restless palm
Rolls o’er with boon of sleep unblest.
How ’tis with me thou wottest well
When union’s bought ’tis haply best!”
Quoth Al–Rashid, “This too is stolen”; and quoth she, “Not, so, ’tis mine.” He said, “If thy words be true change the rhyme once more.” And she recited,
“Drive off the ghost that ever shows
Beside my couch when I’d repose,
So I may rest and quench the fire
Beneath my ribs e’er flames and glows
In love-sick one, whom passion’s palms
Roll o’er the couch where weeping flows.
How ’tis with me thou wottest well
Will union come as union goes?”
Then said the Caliph, “Of what part of this camp art thou?”; and she replied, “Of its middle in dwelling and of its highest in tentpoles.”1 Wherefore he knew that she was the daughter of the tribal chief. “And thou,” quoth she, “of what art thou among the guardians of the horses?”; and quoth he, “Of the highest in tree and of the ripest in fruit.” “Allah protect thee, O Commander of the Faithful!” said she, and kissing ground called down blessings on him. Then she went away with the maidens of the Arabs, and the Caliph said to Ja’afar, “There is no help for it but I take her to wife.” So Ja’afar repaired to her father and said to him, “The Commander of the Faithful hath a mind to thy daughter.” He replied, “With love and goodwill, she is a gift as a handmaid to His Highness our Lord the Commander of the Faithful.” So he equipped her and carried her to the Caliph, who took her to wife and went in to her, and she became of the dearest of his women to him. Furthermore, he bestowed on her father largesse such as succoured him among Arabs, till he was transported to the mercy of Almighty Allah. The Caliph, hearing of his death, went in to her greatly troubled; and, when she saw him looking afflicted, she entered her chamber and doffing all that was upon her of rich raiment, donned mourning apparel and raised lament for her father. It was said to her, “What is the reason of this?”; and she replied, “My father is dead.” So they repaired to the Caliph and told him and he rose and going in to her, asked her who had informed her of her father’s death; and she answered “It was thy face, O Commander of the Faithful!” Said he, “How so?”; and she said, “Since I have been with thee, I never saw thee on such wise till this time, and there was none for whom I feared save my father, by reason of his great age; but may thy head live, O Commander of the Faithful!” The Caliph’s eyes filled with tears and he condoled with her; but she ceased not to mourn for her father, till she followed him — Allah have mercy on the twain! And a tale is also told of
1 The tents of black wool woven by the Badawi women are generally supported by three parallel rows of poles lengthways and crossways (the highest line being the central) and the covering is pegged down. Thus the outline of the roofs forms two or more hanging curves, and these characterise the architecture of the Tartars and Chinese; they are still preserved in the Turkish (and sometimes in the European) “Kiosque,” and they have extended to the Brazil where the upturned eaves, often painted vermilion below, at once attract the traveller’s notice.
The Commander of the Faithful Harun Al–Rashid was exceeding restless one night and rising from his bed, paced from chamber to chamber, but could not compose himself to sleep. As soon as it was day, he said, “Fetch me Al–Asma’i!”1 So the eunuch went out and told the doorkeepers; these sent for the poet and when he came, informed the Caliph who bade admit him and said to him, “O Asma’i, I wish thee to tell me the best thou hast heard of stories of women and their verses.” Answered Al–Asma’i, “Hearkening and obedience! I have heard great store of women’s verses; but none pleased me save three sets of couplets I once heard from three girls.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 See vol. iv., 159. The author of “Antar,” known to Englishmen by the old translation of Mr. Terrick Hamilton, secretary of Legation at Constantinople. There is an abridgement of the forty-five volumes of Al–Asma’i’s “Antar” which mostly supplies or rather supplied the “Antariyyah” or professional tale-tellers; whose theme was the heroic Mulatto lover.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Al- Asma’i said to the Prince of True Believers, “Verily I have heard much, but nothing pleased me save three sets of couplets improvised by as many girls.” Quoth the Caliph, “Tell me of them,” and quoth he, “Know then, O Commander of the Faithful, that I once abode in Bassorah, and one day, as I was walking, the heat was sore upon me and I sought for a siesta-place but found none. However by looking right and left I came upon a porch swept and sprinkled, at the upper end whereof was a wooden bench under an open lattice-window, whence exhaled a scent of musk. I entered the porch and sitting down on the bench, would have stretcht me at full length when I heard from within a girl’s sweet voice talking and saying, ‘O my sisters, we are here seated to spend our day in friendly converse; so come, let us each put down an hundred dinars and recite a line of verse; and whoso extemporiseth the goodliest and sweetest line, the three hundred dinars shall be hers.’ ‘With love and gladness,’ said the others; and the eldest recited the first couplet which is this,
‘Would he come to my bed during sleep ’twere delight
But a visit on wake were delightsomer sight!’
Quoth the second,
‘Naught came to salute me in sleep save his shade
But ‘welcome, fair welcome,’ I cried to the spright!’
Then said the youngest,
‘My soul and my folk I engage for the youth
Musk-scented I see in my bed every night!’
Quoth I, ‘An she be fair as her verse hath grace, the thing is complete in every case.’ Then I came down from my bench1 and was about to go away, when behold, the door opened and out came a slave-girl, who said to me, ‘Sit, O Shaykh!’ So I climbed up and sat down again when she gave me a scroll, wherein was written, in characters of the utmost beauty, with straight Alifs,2 big-bellied Has, and rounded Waws, the following, ‘We would have the Shaykh (Allah lengthen his days!) to know that we are three maidens, sisters, sitting in friendly converse, who have laid down each an hundred dinars, conditioning that whoso recite the goodliest and sweetest couplet shall have the whole three hundred dinars; and we appoint thee umpire between us: so decide as thou seest best, and the Peace be on thee! Quoth I to the girl, ‘Here to me inkcase and paper.’ So she went in and, returning after a little, brought me a silvered inkcase and gilded pens3 with which I wrote these couplets,
They talked of three beauties whose converse was quite
Like the talk of a man with experience dight:
Three maidens who borrowed the bloom of the dawn
Making hearts of their lovers in sorriest plight.
They were hidden from eyes of the prier and spy
Who slept and their modesty mote not affright;
So they opened whatever lay hid in their hearts
And in frolicsome fun began verse to indite.
Quoth one fair coquette with her amorous grace
Whose teeth for the sweet of her speech flashed bright:—
Would he come to my bed during sleep ’twere delight
But a visit on wake were delightsomer sight!
When she ended, her verse by her smiling was gilt:
Then the second ‘gan singing as nightingale might:—
Naught came to salute me in sleep save his shade
But ‘welcome, fair welcome,’ I cried to the spright!
But the third I preferred for she said in reply,
With expression most apposite, exquisite:—
My soul and my folk I engage for the youth
Musk-scented I see in my bed every night!
So when I considered their words to decide,
And not make me the mock of the cynical wight;
I pronounced for the youngest, declaring her verse
Of all verses be that which is nearest the right.’
Then I gave scroll to the slave-girl, who went upsatirs with it, and behold, I heard a noise of dancing and clapping of hands and Doomsday astir. Quoth I to myself, ‘’Tis no time of me to stay here.’ So I came down from the platform and was about to go away, when the damsel cried out to me, ‘Sit down, O Asma’i!’ Asked I, ‘Who gave thee to know that I was Al–Asma’i?’ and she answered, ‘O Shaykh, an thy name be unknown to us, thy poetry is not!’ So I sat down again and suddently the door opened and out came the first damsel, with a dish of fruits and another of sweetmeats. I ate of both and praised their fashion and would have ganged my gait; but she cried out, ‘Sit down, O Asma’i!’ Wherewith I raised my eyes to her and saw a rosy palm in a saffron sleeve, meseemed it was the full moon rising splendid in the cloudy East. Then she threw me a purse containing three hundred dinars and said to me, ‘This is mine and I give it to thee by way of douceur in requital of thy judgment.’” Quoth the Caliph, “Why didst thou decide for the youngest?” and quoth Al–Asma’i, “O Commander of the Faithful, whose life Allah prolong! the eldest said, ‘I should delight in him, if he visited my couch in sleep.’ Now this is restricted and dependent upon a condition which may befal or may not befal; whilst, for the second, an image of dreams came to her in sleep, and she saluted it; but the youngest’s couplet said that she actually lay with her lover and smelt his breath sweeter than musk and she engaged her soul and her folk for him, which she had not done, were he not dearer to her than her sprite.” Said the Caliph, “Thou didst well, O Asma’i.” and gave him other three hundred ducats in payment of his story. And I have heard a tale concerning
1 The “Dakkah” or long wooden sofa, as opposed to the “mastabah” or stone bench, is often a tall platform and in mosques is a kind of ambo railed round and supported by columns. Here readers recite the Koran: Lane (M.E. chapt. iii.) sketches it in the “Interior of a Mosque.”
2 Alif, Ha and Waw, the first, twenty-seventh and twenty-sixth letters of the Arabic alphabet: No. 1 is the most simple and difficult to write caligraphically.
3 Reeds washed with gold and used for love-letters, &c.
Quoth Abu Ishak Ibrahim al-Mausili:— I asked Al–Rashid once to give me a day’s leave that I might be private with the people of my household and my brethren, and he gave me leave for Saturday the Sabbath. So I went home and betook myself to making ready meat and drink and other necessaires and bade the doorkeepers shut the doors and let none come in to me. However, presently, as I sat in my sitting-chamber, with my women who were looking after my wants, behold, there appeared an old man of comely and reverend aspect,2 clad in white clothes and a shirt of fine stuff with a doctor’s turband on his head and a silver- handled staff in his hand, and the house and porch were full of the perfumes wherewith he was scented. I was greatly vexed at his coming in to me and thought to turn away the doorkeepers; but he saluted me after the goodliest fashion and I returned his greeting and bade him be seated. So he sat down and began entertaining me with stories of the Arabs and their verses, till my anger left me and methought my servants had sought to pleasure me by admitting a man of such good breeding and fine culture. Then I asked him, “Art thou for meat?”; and he answered, “I have no need of it.” “And for drink?” quoth I, and quoth he, “That is as thou wilt.” So I drank off a pint of wine and poured him out the like. Then said he, “O Abu Ishak, wilt thou sing us somewhat, so we may hear of thine art that wherein thou excellest high and low?” His words angered me; but I swallowed my anger and taking the lute played and sang. “Well done, O Abu Ishak!”3 said he; whereat my wrath redoubled and I said to myself, “Is it not enough that he should intrude upon me, without my leave, and importune me thus, but he must call me by name, as though he knew not the right way to address me?” Quoth he, “An thou wilt sing something more we will requite thee.” I dissembled my annoyance and took the lute and sang again, taking pains with what I sang and rising thereto altogether, in consideration of his saying, “We will requite thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane introduced this tale into vol. i., p. 223, notes on chapt. iii., apparently not knowing that it was in The Nights. He gives a mere abstract, omitting all the verse, and he borrowed it either from the Halbat al-Kumayt (chapt. xiv.) or from Al–Mas’údí (chapt. cxi.). See the French translation, vol. vi. p. 340. I am at pains to understand why M. C. Barbier de Maynard writes “Réchid” with an accented vowel; although French delicacy made him render, by “fils de courtisane,” the expression in the text, “O biter of thy mother’s enlarged (or uncircumcised) clitoris” (Bazar).
2 In Al–Mas’údi the Devil is “a young man fair of favour and formous of figure,” which is more appropriate to a “Tempter.” He also wears light stuffs of dyed silks.
3 It would have been more courteous in an utter stranger to say, O my lord.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Shaykh said to Abu Ishak, “If thou wilt sing something more we will requite thee,” I dissembled my annoyance (continued Ibrahim) and, taking the lute, sang again with great attention to my singing and rising altogether thereto, in consideration of his saying, “We will requite thee.” He was delighted, and cried, “Well done, O my lord!”; presently adding, “Dost thou give me leave to sing?” “As thou wilt,” answered I, deeming him weak of wit, in that he should think to sing in my presence, after that which he had heard from me. So he took the lute and swept the strings, and by Allah, I fancied they spoke in Arabic tongue, with a sweet and liquid and murmurous voice; then he began and sang these couplets,
“I bear a hurt heart, who will sell me for this
A heart whole and free from all canker and smart?
Nay, none will consent or to barter or buy
Such loss, ne’er from sorrow and sickness to part:
I groan wi’ the groaning of wine-wounded men
And pine for the pining ne’er freeth my heart.”
And by Allah, meseemed the doors and the walls and all that was in the house answered and sang with him, for the beauty of his voice, so that I fancied my very limbs and clothes replied to him, and I abode amazed and unable to speak or move, for the trouble of my heart. Then he sang these couplets,
“Culvers of Liwa!1 to your nests return;
Your mournful voices thrill this heart of mine
Then back a-copse they flew, and well-nigh took
My life and made me tell my secret pine.
With cooing call they one who’s gone, as though
Their breasts were maddened with the rage of wine:
Ne’er did mine eyes their like for culvers see
Who weep yet tear-drops never dye their eyne.”
And also these couplets,
“O Zephyr of Najd, when from Najd thou blow,
Thy breathings heap only new woe on woe!
The turtle bespake me in bloom of morn
From the cassia-twig an the willow-bough
She moaned with the moaning of love-sick youth
And exposed love-secret I ne’er would show:
They say lover wearies of love when near
And is cured of love an afar he go:
I tried either cure which ne’er cured my love;
But that nearness is better than farness I know:2
Yet — the nearness of love shall no ‘vantage prove
An whoso thou lovest deny thee of love.”
Then said he, “O Ibrahim, sing this song after me, and preserving the mode thereof in thy singing, teach it to thy slave-girls.” Quoth I, “Repeat it to me.” But he answered, “There needs no repetition; thou hast it by heart nor is there more to learn.” Then he suddenly vanished from my sight. At this I was amazed and running to my sword drew it and made for the door of the Harim, but found it closed and said to the women, “What have ye heard?” Quoth they, “We have heard the sweetest of singing and the goodliest.” Then I went forth amazed, to the house-door and, finding it locked, questioned the doorkeepers of the old man. They replied, “What old man? By Allah, no one hath gone in to thee this day!” So I returned pondering the matter, when, behold, there arose from one of the corners of the house, a Vox et praeterea nihil, saying, “O Abu Ishak, no harm shall befal thee. ’Tis I, Abú Murrah,3 who have been thy cup-companion this day, so fear nothing!” Then I mounted and rode to the palace, where I told Al–Rashid what had passed, and he said, “Repeat to me the airs thou heardest from him.” So I took the lute and played and sang them to him; for, behold, they were rooted in my heart. The Caliph was charmed with them and drank thereto, albeit he was no confirmed wine-bibber, saying, “Would he would some day pleasure us with his company, as he hath pleasured thee!”4 Then he ordered me a present and I took it and went away. And men relate this story anent
1 The Arab Tempe (of fiction, not of grisly fact).
2 These four lines are in Al–Mas’údi, chapt, cxviii. Fr. Trans. vii. 313, but that author does not tell us who wrote them.
3 i.e. Father of Bitterness=the Devil. This legend of the Foul Fiend appearing to Ibrahim of Mosul (and also to Isam, N. dcxcv.) seems to have been accepted by contemporaries and reminds us of similar visitations in Europe — notably to Dr. Faust. One can only exclaim, “Lor, papa, what nonsense you are talking!” the words of a small girl whose father thought proper to indoctrinate her into certain Biblical stories. I once began to write a biography of the Devil; but I found that European folk-lore had made such an unmitigated fool of the grand old Typhon–Ahriman as to take away from him all human interest.
4 In Al–Mas’udi the Caliph exclaims, “Verily thou hast received a visit from Satan!”
Quoth Masrur the Eunuch, “The Caliph Harun Al–Rashid was very wakeful one night and said to me, ‘See which of the poets is at the door to-night.’ So I went out and finding Jamíl bin Ma’amar al-Uzrí2 in the antechamber, said to him, ‘Answer the Commander of the Faithful.’ Quoth he, ‘I hear and I obey,’ and going in with me, saluted the Caliph, who returned his greeting and bade him sit down. Then he said to him, ‘O, Jamil, hast thou any of thy wonderful new stories to tell us?’ He replied, ‘Yes, O Commander of the Faithful: wouldst thou fainer hear that which I have seen with mine eyes or that which I have only heard?’ Quoth the Caliph, ‘Tell me something thou hast actually beheld.’ Quoth Jamil, ‘’Tis well, O Prince of True Believers; incline thy heart to me and lend me thine ears.’ The Caliph took a bolster of red brocade, purfled with gold and stuffed with ostrich-feathers and, laying it under his thighs, propped up both elbows thereon; then he said to Jamil, ‘Now3 for thy tale, O Jamil!’ Thereupon he begun, ‘Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that I was once desperately enamoured of a certain girl and used to pay her frequent visits.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Al–Mas’udi, chapt. cxix. (Fr. transl. vii., 351) mentions the Banu Odhrah as famed for lovers and tells the pathetic tale of ‘Orwah and ‘Afrá.
2 Jamil bin Ma’amar the poet has been noticed in Vol. ii. 102; and he has no business here as he died years before Al–Rashid was born. The tale begins like that of Ibn Mansúr and the Lady Budúr (Night cccxxvii.), except that Mansur does not offer his advice.
3 Arab. “Halumma,” an interjection=bring! a congener of the Heb. “Halúm”; the grammarians of Kufah and Bassorah are divided concerning its origin.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph had propped his elbows upon the brocaded cushion, he said, “Out with thy tale, O Jamil!” and the poet begun:— Know, O Commander of the Faithful, I was desperately in love with a girl and used often to visit her, because she was my desire and delight of all the things of this world. After a while, her people removed with her, by reason of scarcity of pasture, and I abode some time without seeing her, till I grew restless for desire and longed for her sight and the flesh1 urged me to journey to her. One night, I could hold out no longer; so I rose and saddling my she-camel, bound on my turban and donned my oldest dress.2 Then I baldricked myself with my sword and slinging my spear behind me, mounted and rode forth in quest of her. I fared on fast till, one night, it was pitch dark and exceeding black, yet I persisted in the hard task of climbing down Wadys and up hills, hearing on all sides the roaring of lions and howling of wolves and the cries of the wild beasts. My reason was troubled thereat and my heart sank within me; but for all that my tongue ceased not to call on the name of Almighty Allah. As I went along thus, sleep overtook me and the camel carried me aside out of my road, till, presently, something3 smote me on the head, and I woke, startled and alarmed, and found myself in a pasturage full of trees and streams and birds on the branches, warbling their various speech and notes. As the trees were tangled I alighted and, taking my camel’s halter in hand, fared on softly with her, till I got clear of the thick growth and came out into the open country, where I adjusted her saddle and mounted again, knowing not where to go nor whither the Fates should lead me; but, presently, peering afar into the desert, I espied a fire in its middle depth. So I smote my camel and made for the fire. When I drew near, I saw a tent pitched, and fronted by a spear stuck in the ground, with a pennon flying4 and horses tethered and camels feeding, and said in myself, “Doubtless there hangeth some grave matter by this tent, for I see none other than it in the desert.” So I went up thereto and said, “Peace be with you, O people of the tent, and the mercy of Allah and His Blessing!” Whereupon there came forth to me a young man as youths are when nineteen years old, who was like the full moon shining in the East, with valour written between his eyes, and answered, saying, “And with thee be the Peace, and Allah’s mercy and His blessing! O brother of the Arabs, methinks thou hast lost thy way?” Replied I, “Even so, direct me right, Allah have mercy on thee!” He rejoined, “O brother of the Arabs, of a truth this our land is infested with lions and the night is exceeding dark and dreary, beyond measure cold and gloomy, and I fear lest the wild beasts rend thee in pieces; wherefore do thou alight and abide with me this night in ease and comfort, and to-morrow I will put thee in the right way.” Accordingly, I dismounted and hobbled my she-camel with the end of her halter;5 then I put off my heavy upper clothes and sat down. Presently the young man took a sheep and slaughtered it and kindled a brisk fire; after which he went into the tent and bringing out finely powdered salt and spices, fell to cutting off pieces of mutton and roasting them over the fire and feeding me therewith, weeping at one while and sighing at another. Then he groaned heavily and wept sore and improvised these couplets,
“There remains to him naught save a flitting breath
And an eye whose babe ever wandereth.
There remains not a joint in his limbs, but what
Disease firm fixt ever tortureth.
His tears are flowing, his vitals burning;
Yet for all his tongue still he silenceth.
All foemen in pity beweep his woes;
Ah for freke whom the foeman pitieth!”
By this I knew, O Commander of the Faithful, that the youth was a distracted lover (for none knoweth passion save he who hath tasted the passion-savour), and quoth I to myself, “Shall I ask him?” But I consulted my judgment and said, “How shall I assail him with questioning, and I in his abode?” So I restrained myself and ate my sufficiency of the meat. When we had made an end of eating, the young man arose and entering the tent, brought out a handsome basin and ewer and a silken napkin, whose ends were purfled with red gold and a sprinkling-bottle full of rose-water mingled with musk. I marvelled at his dainty delicate ways and said in my mind, “Never wot I of delicacy in the desert.” Then we washed our hands and talked a while, after which he went into the tent and making a partition between himself and me with a piece of red brocade, said to me, “Enter, O Chief of the Arabs, and take thy rest; for thou hast suffered more of toil and travel than sufficeth this night and in this thy journey.” So I entered and finding a bed of green brocade, doffed my dress and passed a night such as I had never passed in my life. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Nafs-í” which here corresponds with our canting “the flesh” the “Old Adam,” &c.
2 Arab. “Atmárí” used for travel. The Anglo–Americans are the only people who have the common sense to travel (where they are not known) in their “store clothes” and reserve the worst for where they are known.
3 e.g. a branch or bough.
4 Arab. “Ráyah káimah,” which Lane translates a “beast standing”!
5 Tying up the near foreleg just above the knee; and even with this a camel can hop over sundry miles of ground in the course of a night. The hobbling is shown in Lane. (Nights vol. ii., p. 46.)
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Jamil spoke, saying:— Never in my life passed I a night like that. I pondered the young man’s case, till the world was dark and all eyes slept, when I was aroused by the sound of a low voice, never heard I a softer or sweeter. I raised the curtain which hung between us and saw a damsel (never beheld I a fairer of face), by the young man’s side and they were both weeping and complaining, one to other of the pangs of passion and desire and of the excess of their longing for union.1 Quoth I, “By Allah, I wonder who may be this second one! When I entered this tent, there was none therein save this young man.” And after reflection I added, “Doubtless this damsel is of the daughters of the Jinn and is enamoured of this youth; so they have secluded themselves with each other in this solitary place.” Then I considered her closely and behold, she was a mortal and an Arab girl, whose face, when she unveiled, shamed the shining sun, and the tent was lit up by the light of her countenance. When I was assured that she was his beloved, I bethought me of lover-jealousy; so I let drop the curtain and covering my face, fell asleep. As soon as it was dawn I arose and donning my clothes, made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed such prayers as are obligatory and which I had deferred. Then I said, “O brother of the Arabs, wilt thou direct me into the right road and thus add to thy favours?” He replied, “At thy leisure, O chief of the Arabs, the term of the guest-rite is three days,2 and I am not one to let thee go before that time.” So I abode with him three days, and on the fourth day as we sat talking, I asked him of his name and lineage. Quoth he “As for my lineage, I am of the Banu Odhrah; my name is such an one, son of such an one and my father’s brother is called such an one.” And behold, O Commander of the Faithful, he was the son of my paternal uncle and of the noblest house of the Banú Uzrah. Said I, “O my cousin, what moved thee to act on this wise, secluding thyself in the waste and leaving thy fair estate and that of thy father and thy slaves and handmaids?” When he heard my words, his eyes filled with tears and he replied, “Know, O my cousin, that I fell madly in love of the daughter of my father’s brother, fascinated by her, distracted for her, passion-possessed as by a Jinn, wholly unable to let her out of my sight. So I sought her in marriage of her sire, but he refused and married her to a man of the Banu Odhrah, who went in to her and carried her to his abiding-place this last year. When she was thus far removed from me and I was prevented from looking on her, the fiery pangs of passion and excess of love-longing and desire drove me to forsake my clan3 and friends and fortune and take up my abode in this desert, where I have grown used to my solitude.” I asked, “Where are their dwellings?” and he answered, “They are hard by, on the crest of yonder hill; and every night, at the dead time, when all eyes sleep, she stealeth secretly out of the camp, unseen of any one, and I satisfy my desire of her converse and she of mine.4 So I abide thus, solacing myself with her a part of the night, till Allah work out that which is to be wrought; either I shall compass my desire, in spite5 of the envious, or Allah will determine for me and He is the best of determinators.” Now when the youth told me his case, O Commander of the Faithful, I was concerned for him and perplexed by reason of my jealousy for his honour; so I said to him, “O son of my uncle, wilt thou that I point out to thee a plan and suggest to thee a project, whereby (please Allah) thou shalt find perfect welfare and the way of right and successful issue whereby the Almighty shall do away from thee that thou dreadest?” He replied, “Say on, O my cousin”; and quoth I, “When it is night and the girl cometh, set her on my she-camel which is swift of pace, and mount thou thy steed, whilst I bestride one of these dromedaries. So will we fare on all night and when the morrow morns, we shall have traversed wolds and wastes, and thou wilt have attained thy desire and won the beloved of thy heart. The Almighty’s earth is wide, and by Allah, I will back thee with heart and wealth and sword.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 As opposed to “Severance” in the old knightly language of love, which is now apparently lost to the world. I tried it in the Lyrics of Camoens and found that I was speaking a forgotten tongue, which mightily amused the common sort of critic and reviewer.
2 More exactly three days and eight hours, after which the guest becomes a friend, and as in the Argentine prairies is expected to do friend’s duty. The popular saying is, “The entertainment of a guest is three days; the viaticum (jáizah) is a day and a night, and whatso exceedeth this is alms.”
3 Arab. “‘Ashírah.” Books tell us there are seven degrees of connection among the Badawin: Sha’ab, tribe or rather race; nation (as the Anazah) descended from a common ancestor; Kabílah the tribe proper (whence les Kabyles); Fasílah (sept), Imarah; Ashirah (all a man’s connections); Fakhiz (lit. the thigh, i.e., his blood relations) and Batn (belly) his kith and kin. Practically Kabílah is the tribe, Ashírah the clan, and Bayt the household; while Hayy may be anything between tribe and kith and kin.
4 This is the true platonic love of noble Arabs, the Ishk ‘uzrí, noted in vol. ii., 104.
5 Arab. “‘Alá raghm,” a favourite term. It occurs in theology; for instance, when the Shí‘ahs are asked the cause of such and such a ritual distinction they will reply, “Ala raghmi ‘l-Tasannun”: lit.=to spite the Sunnis.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Jamil advised the elopement and night journey, promising his aid as long as he lived, the youth accepted and said, “O cousin, wait till I take counsel with her, for she is quick-witted and prudent and hath insight into affairs.” So (continued Jamil) when the night darkened and the hour of her coming arrived, and he awaiting her at the appointed tide, she delayed beyond her usual time, and I saw him go forth the door of the tent and opening his mouth, inhale the wafts of breeze that blew from her quarter, as if to snuff her perfume, and he repeated these two couplets:—
“Breeze of East who bringest me gentle air
From the place of sojourn where dwells my fair:
O Breeze, of the lover thou bearest sign,
Canst not of her coming some signal bear?”
Then he entered the tent and sat weeping awhile; after which he said to me, “O my cousin, some mischance must have betided the daughter of mine uncle, or some accident must have hindered her from coming to me this night,” presently adding, “But abide where thou art, till I bring thee the news.” And he took sword and shield and was absent a while of the night, after which he returned, carrying something in hand and called aloud to me. So I hastened to him and he said, “O my cousin, knowest thou what hath happened?” I replied, “No, by Allah!” Quoth he, “Verily, I am distraught concerning my cousin this night; for, as she was coming to me, a lion met her in the way and devoured her, and there remaineth of her but what thou seest.” So saying, he threw down what he had in his hand, and behold, it was the damsel’s turband and what was left of her bones. Then he wept sore and casting down his bow,1 took a bag and went forth again saying, “Stir not hence till I return to thee, if it please Almighty Allah.” He was absent a while and presently returned, bearing in his hand a lion’s head, which he threw on the ground and called for water. So I brought him water, with which he washed the lion’s mouth and fell to kissing it and weeping; and he mourned for her exceedingly and recited these couplets,
“Ho thou lion who broughtest thyself to woe,
Thou art slain and worse sorrows my bosom rend!
Thou hast reft me of fairest companionship,
Made her home Earth’s womb till the world shall end.
To Time, who hath wrought me such grief, I say,
‘Allah grant in her stead never show a friend!’”
Then said he to me, “O cousin, I conjure thee by Allah and the claims of kindred and consanguinity2 between us, keep thou my charge. Thou wilt presently see me dead before thee; whereupon do thou wash me and shroud me and these that remain of my cousin’s bones in this robe and bury us both in one grave and write thereon these two couplets,
‘On Earth surface we lived in rare ease and joy
By fellowship joined in one house and home.
But Fate with her changes departed us,
And the shroud conjoins us in Earth’s cold womb.’”
Then he wept with sore weeping and, entering the tent, was absent awhile, after which he came forth, groaning and crying out. Then he gave one sob and departed this world. When I saw that he was indeed dead, it was grievous to me and so sore was my sorrow for him that I had well-nigh followed him for excess of mourning over him. Then I laid him out and did as he had enjoined me, shrouding his cousin’s remains with him in one robe and laying the twain in one grave. I abode by their tomb three days, after which I departed and continued to pay frequent pious visits3 to the place for two years. This then is their story, O Commander of the Faithful! Al–Rashid was pleased with Jamil’s story and rewarded him with a robe of honour and a handsome present. And men also tell a tale concerning
1 In the text “Al–Kaus” for which Lane and Payne substitute a shield. The bow had not been mentioned but — n’importe, the Arab reader would say. In the text it is left at home because it is a cowardly, far-killing weapon compared with sword and lance. Hence the Spaniard calls and justly calls the knife the “bravest of arms” as it wants a man behind it.
2 Arab. “Rahim” or “Rihm”=womb, uterine relations, pity or sympathy, which may here be meant.
3 Reciting Fátihahs and so forth, as I have described in the Cemetery of Al–Medinah (ii. 300). Moslems do not pay for prayers to benefit the dead like the majority of Christendom and, according to Calvinistic Wahhábi-ism, their prayers and blessings are of no avail. But the mourner’s heart loathes reason and he prays for his dead instinctively like the so-termed “Protestant.” Amongst the latter, by the bye, I find four great Sommités, (1) Paul of Tarsus who protested against the Hebraism of Peter; (2) Mohammed who protested against the perversions of Christianity; (3) Luther who protested against Italian rule in Germany, and lastly (4) one (who shall be nameless) that protests against the whole business.
Caliph Mu’áwiyah was sitting one day in his palace2 at Damascus, in a room whose windows were open on all four sides, that the breeze might enter from every quarter. Now it was a day of excessive heat, with no breeze from the hills stirring, and the middle of the day, when the heat was at its height, and the Caliph saw a man coming along, scorched by the heat of the ground and limping, as he fared on barefoot. Mu’awiyah considered him awhile and said to his courtiers, “Hath Allah (may He be extolled and exalted!) created any miserabler than he who need must hie abroad at such an hour and in such sultry tide as this?” Quoth one of them, “Haply he seeketh the Commander of the Faithful;” and quoth the Caliph, “By Allah, if he seek me, I will assuredly give to him, and if he be wronged, I will certainly succour him. Ho, boy! Stand at the door, and if yonder wild Arab seek to come in to me, forbid him not therefrom.” So the page went out and presently the Arab came up to him and he said, “What dost thou want?” Answered the other, “I want the Commander of the Faithful,” and the page said, “Enter.” So he entered and saluted the Caliph — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane transfers this to vol. i. 520 (notes to chapt. vii); and gives a mere abstract as of that preceding.
2 We learn from Ibn Batutah that it stood South of the Great Mosque and afterwards became the Coppersmiths’ Bazar. The site was known as Al–Khazrá (the Green) and the building was destroyed by the Abbasides. See Defrémery and Sanguinetti, i. 206.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the page allowed him to enter, the Badawi saluted the Caliph, who said to him, “Who art thou?” Replied the Arab, “I am a man of the Banú Tamím.”1 “And what bringeth thee here at this season?” asked Mu’awiyah; and the Arab answered, “I come to thee, complaining and thy protection imploring.” “Against whom?” “Against Marwan bin al-Hakam,2 thy deputy,” replied he, and began reciting,
“Mu’áwiyah,3 thou gen’rous lord, and best of men that be;
And oh, thou lord of learning, grace and fair humanity,
Thee-wards I come because my way of life is strait to me:
O help! and let me not despair thine equity to see.
Deign thou redress the wrong that dealt the tyrant whim of him
Who better had my life destroyed than made such wrong to dree.
He robbed me of my wife Su’ad and proved him worst of foes,
Stealing mine honour ’mid my folk with foul iniquity;
And went about to take my life before th’ appointed day
Hath dawned which Allah made my lot by destiny’s decree.”
Now when Mu’awiyah heard him recite these verses, with the fire flashing from his mouth, he said to him, “Welcome and fair welcome, O brother of the Arabs! Tell me thy tale and acquaint me with thy case.” Replied the Arab, “O Commander of the Faithful, I had a wife whom I loved passing dear with love none came near; and she was the coolth of mine eyes and the joy of my heart; and I had a herd of camels, whose produce enabled me to maintain my condition; but there came upon us a bad year which killed off hoof and horn and left me naught. When what was in my hand failed me and wealth fell from me and I lapsed into evil case, I at once became abject and a burden to those who erewhile wished to visit me; and when her father knew it, he took her from me and abjured me and drove me forth without ruth. So I repaired to thy deputy, Marwan bin al-Hakam, and asked his aid. He summoned her sire and questioned him of my case, when he denied any knowledge of me. Quoth I, ‘Allah assain the Emir! An it please him to send for the woman and question her of her father’s saying, the truth will appear.’ So he sent for her and brought her; but no sooner had he set eyes on her than he fell in love with her; so, becoming my rival, he denied me succour and was wroth with me, and sent me to prison, where I became as I had fallen from heaven and the wind had cast me down in a far land. Then said Marwan to her father, ‘Wilt thou give her to me to wife, on a present settlement of a thousand dinars and a contingent dowry of ten thousand dirhams,4 and I will engage to free her from yonder wild Arab!’ Her father was seduced by the bribe and agreed to the bargain; whereupon Marwan sent for me and looking at me like an angry lion, said to me, ‘O Arab, divorce Su’ad.’ I replied, ‘I will not put her away;’ but he set on me a company of his servants, who tortured me with all manner of tortures, till I found no help for it but to divorce her. I did so and he sent me back to prison, where I abode till the days of her purification were accomplished, when he married her and let me go. So now I come hither in thee hoping and thy succour imploring and myself on thy protection throwing.” And he spoke these couplets,
“Within my heart is fire
Whichever flameth higher; Within my frame are pains
For skill of leach too dire. Live coals in vitals burn
And sparks from coal up spire: Tears flood mine eyes and down
Coursing my cheek ne’er tire:
Only God’s aid and thine
I crave for my desire!”
Then he was convulsed,5 and his teeth chattered and he fell down in a fit, squirming like a scotched snake. When Mu’awiyah heard his story and his verse, he said, “Marwan bin al-Hakam hath transgressed against the laws of the Faith and hath violated the Harim of True Believers!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This great tribe or rather nation has been noticed before (vol. ii. 170). The name means “Strong,” and derives from one Tamim bin Murr of the race of Adnan, nat. circ. A.D. 121. They hold the North–Eastern uplands of Najd, comprising the great desert Al–Dahná and extend to Al–Bahrayn. They are split up into a multitude of clans and septs; and they can boast of producing two famous sectarians. One was Abdullah bin Suffár, head of the Suffriyah; and the other Abdullah bin Ibáz (Ibadh) whence the Ibázíyah heretics of Oman who long included her princes. Mr. Palgrave wrongly writes Abadeeyah and Biadeeyah and my “Bayázi” was an Arab vulgarism used by the Zanzibarians. Dr. Badger rightly prefers Ibáziyah which he writes Ibâdhiyah (Hist. of the Imams, etc.).
2 Governor of Al–Medinah under Mu’awiyah and afterwards (A.H. 64–65=683–4) fourth Ommiade. Al–Siyúti (p. 216) will not account him amongst the princes of the Faithful, holding him a rebel against Al–Zubayr. Ockley makes Ibn al-Zubayr ninth and Marwán tenth Caliph.
3 The address, without the vocative particle, is more emphatic; and the P.N. Mu’awiyah seems to court the omission.
4 This may also mean that the £500 were the woman’s “mahr” or marriage dowry and the £250 a present to buy the father’s consent.
5 Quite true to nature. See an account of the quasi-epileptic fits to which Syrians are subject and by them called Al–Wahtah in “The Inner Life of Syria,” i. 233.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph Mu’awiyah heard the wild Arab’s words, he said, “The son of Al–Hakam hath indeed transgressed against the laws of the Faith and hath violated the Harim of True Believers,” presently adding, “O Arab, thou comest to me with a story, the like whereof I never heard!” Then he called for inkcase and paper and wrote to Marwan as follows, “Verily it hath reached me that thou transgresseth the laws of the Faith with regard to thy lieges. Now it behoveth the Wali who governeth the folk to keep his eyes from their lusts and stay his flesh from its delights.” And after he wrote many words, which (quoth he who told me the tale) I omit, for brevity’s sake, and amongst them these couplets,
“Thou wast invested (woe to thee!)1 with rule for the unfit;
Crave thou of Allah pardon for thy foul adultery.
Th’ unhappy youth to us is come complaining ’mid his groans
And asks for redress for parting-grief and saddened me through thee.
An oath have I to Allah sworn shall never be forsworn;
Nay, for I’ll do what Faith and Creed command me to decree.
An thou dare cross me in whate’er to thee I now indite
I of thy flesh assuredly will make the vulture free.
Divorce Su’ad, equip her well, and in the hottest haste
With Al–Kumayt and Ziban’s son, hight Nasr, send to me.”
Then he folded the letter and, sealing it with his seal, delivered it to Al–Kumayt2 and Nasr bin Zibán (whom he was wont to employ on weighty matters, because of their trustiness) who took the missive and carried it to Al–Medinah, where they went in to Marwan and saluting him delivered to him the writ and told him how the case stood. He read the letter and fell a-weeping; but he went in to Su’ad (as ’twas not in his power to refuse obedience to the Caliph) and, acquainting her with the case, divorced her in the presence of Al–Kumayt and Nasr; after which he equipped her and delivered her to them, together with a letter to the Caliph wherein he versified as follows,
“Hurry not, Prince of Faithful Men! with best of grace thy vow
I will accomplish as ’twas vowed and with the gladdest gree.
I sinned not adulterous sin when loved her I, then how
Canst charge me with advowtrous deed or any villainy?
Soon comes to thee that splendid sun which hath no living peer
On earth, nor aught in mortal men of Jinns her like shalt see.”
This he sealed with his own signet and gave to the messengers who returned with Su’ad to Damascus and delivered to Mu’awiyah the letter, and when he had read it he cried, “Verily, he hath obeyed handsomely, but he exceedeth in his praise of the woman.” Then he called for her and saw beauty such as he had never seen, for comeliness and loveliness, stature and symmetrical grace; moreover, he talked with her and found her fluent of speech and choice in words. Quoth he, “Bring me the Arab.” So they fetched the man, who came, sore disordered for shifts and changes of fortune, and Mu’awiyah said to him, “O Arab, an thou wilt freely give her up to me, I will bestow upon thee in her stead three slave girls, high-bosomed maids like moons, with each a thousand dinars; and I will assign thee on the Treasury such an annual sum as shall content thee and enrich thee.” When the Arab heard this, he groaned one groan and swooned away, so that Mu’awiyah thought he was dead; and, as soon as he revived, the Caliph said to him, “What aileth thee?” The Arab answered, “With heavy heart and in sore need have I appealed to thee from the injustice of Marwan bin al-Hakam; but to whom shall I appeal from thine injustice?” And he versified in these couplets,
“Make me not (Allah save the Caliph!) one of the betrayed
Who from the fiery sands to fire must sue for help and aid:
Deign thou restore Su’ád to this afflicted heart distraught,
Which every morn and eve by sorest sorrow is waylaid:
Loose thou my bonds and grudge me not and give her back to me;
And if thou do so ne’er thou shalt for lack of thanks upbraid!”
Then said he, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, wert thou to give me all the riches contained in the Caliphate, yet would I not take them without Su’ad.” And he recited this couplet,
“I love Su’ád and unto all but hers my love is dead,
Each morn I feel her love to me is drink and daily bread.”
Quoth the Caliph, “Thou confessest to having divorced her and Marwan owned the like; so now we will give her free choice. An she choose other than thee, we will marry her to him, and if she choose thee, we will restore her to thee.” Replied the Arab, “Do so.” So Mu’awiyah said to her, “What sayest thou, O Su’ad? Which does thou choose; the Commander of the Faithful, with his honour and glory and dominion and palaces and treasures and all else thou seest at this command, or Marwin bin al-Hakam with his violence and tyranny, or this Arab, with his hunger and poverty?” So she improvised these couplets,
“This one, whom hunger plagues, and rags unfold,
Dearer than tribe and kith and kin I hold;
Than crownèd head, or deputy Marwán,
Or all who boast of silver coins and gold.”
Then said she, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I will not forsake him for the shifts of Fortune or the perfidies of Fate, there being between us old companionship we may not forget, and love beyond stay and let; and indeed ’tis but just that I bear with him in his adversity, even as I shared with him in prosperity.” The Caliph marvelled at her wit and love and constancy and, ordering her ten thousand dirhams, delivered her to the Arab, who took his wife and went away.3 And they likewise tell a tale of
1 Arab. “Wayha-k” here equivalent to Wayla-k. M. C. Barbier de Meynard renders the first “mon ami” and the second “misérable.”
2 This is an instance when the article (Al) is correctly used with one proper name and not with another. Al-Kumayt (P. N. of poet) lit. means a bay horse with black points: Nasr is victory.
3 This anecdote, which reads like truth, is ample set-off for a cart-load of abuse of women. But even the Hindu, determined misogynists in books, sometimes relent. Says the Katha Sarit Sagara: “So you see, King, honourable matrons are devoted to their husbands, and it is not the case that all women are always bad” (ii. 624). Let me hope that after all this Mistress Su’ad did not lead her husband a hardish life.
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid was sleepless one night; so he sent for Al–Asma’i and Husayn al-Khalí‘a1 and said to them, “Tell me a story you twain and do thou begin, O Husayn.” He said, “’Tis well, O Commander of the Faithful;” and thus began: Some years ago, I dropped down stream to Bassorah, to present to Mohammed bin Sulayman al-Rabí’í2 a Kasidah or elegy I had composed in his praise; and he accepted it and bade me abide with him. One day, I went out to Al–Mirbad,3 by way of Al–Muháliyah;4 and, being oppressed by the excessive heat, went up to a great door, to ask for drink, when I was suddenly aware of a damsel, as she were a branch swaying, with eyes languishing, eye brows arched and finely pencilled and smooth cheeks rounded clad in a shift the colour of a pomegranate flower, and a mantilla of Sana’á5 work; but the perfect whiteness of her body overcame the redness of her shift, through which glittered two breasts like twin granadoes and a waist, as it were a roll of fine Coptic linen, with creases like scrolls of pure white paper stuffed with musk 6 Moreover, O Prince of True Believers, round her neck was slung an amulet of red gold that fell down between her breasts, and on the plain of her forehead were browlocks like jet.7 Her eyebrows joined and her eyes were like lakes; she had an aquiline nose and thereunder shell like lips showing teeth like pearls. Pleasantness prevailed in every part of her; but she seemed dejected, disturbed, distracted and in the vestibule came and went, walking upon the hearts of her lovers, whilst her legs8 made mute the voices of their ankle rings; and indeed she was as saith the poet,
“Each portion of her charms we see
Seems of the whole a simile”
I was overawed by her, O Commander of the Faithful, and drew near her to greet her, and behold, the house and vestibule and highways breathed fragrant with musk. So I saluted her and she returned my salaam with a voice dejected and heart depressed and with the ardour of passion consumed. Then said I to her, “O my lady, I am an old man and a stranger and sore troubled by thirst. Wilt thou order me a draught of water, and win reward in heaven?” She cried, “Away, O Shaykh, from me! I am distracted from all thought of meat and drink.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Al–Khalí‘a has been explained in vol. i. 311 {Vol 1, FN#633}: the translation of Al–Mas’udi (vi. 10) renders it “scélerat.” Abú Alí al-Husayn the Wag was a Bassorite and a worthy companion of Abu Nowas the Debauchee; but he adorned the Court of Al–Amin the son not of Al–Rashid the father.
2 Governor of Bassorah, but not in Al–Husayn’s day
3 The famous market-place where poems were recited, mentioned by Al–Hariri.
4 A quarter of Bassorah.
5 Capital of Al–Yaman, and then famed for its leather and other work (vol. v. 16).
6 The creases in the stomach like the large navel are always insisted upon. Says the Kathá (ii. 525) “And he looked on that torrent river of the elixir of beauty, adorned with a waist made charming by those wave-like wrinkles,” etc.
7 Arab. Sabaj (not Sabah, as the Mac. Edit. misprints it): I am not sure of its meaning.
8 A truly Arab conceit, suggesting–
The music breathing from her face;
her calves moved rhythmically, suggesting the movement and consequent sound of a musical instrument.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel said, “O Shaykh, I am distracted from all thought of meat and drink.” Quoth I (continued Husayn), “By what ailment, O my lady?” and quoth she, “I love one who dealeth not justly by me and I desire one who of me will none. Wherefore I am afflicted with the wakefulness of those who wake star gazing.” I asked, “O my lady, is there on the wide expanse of earth one to whom thou hast a mind and who to thee hath no mind?” Answered she, “Yes; and this for the perfection of beauty and loveliness and goodliness wherewith he is endowed.” “And why standeth thou in this porch?” enquired I. “This is his road,” replied she, “and the hour of his passing by.” I said, “O my lady, have ye ever foregathered and had such commerce and converse as might cause this passion?” At this she heaved a deep sigh; the tears rained down her cheeks, as they were dew falling upon roses, and she versified with these couplets,
“We were like willow boughs in garden shining
And scented joys in happiest life combining;
Whenas one bough from other self would rend
And oh! thou seest this for that repining!”
Quoth I, “O maid, and what betideth thee of thy love for this man?”; and quoth she, “I see the sun upon the walls of his folk and I think the sun is he; or haply I catch sight of him unexpectedly and am confounded and the blood and the life fly my body and I abide in unreasoning plight a week or e’en a se’nnight.” Said I, “Excuse me, for I also have suffered that which is upon thee of love longing and distraction of soul and wasting of frame and loss of strength; and I see in thee pallor of complexion and emaciation, such as testify of the fever fits of desire. But how shouldst thou be unsmitten of passion and thou a sojourner in the land of Bassorah?” Said she, “By Allah, before I fell in love of this youth, I was perfect in beauty and loveliness and amorous grace which ravished all the Princes of Bassorah, till he fell in love with me.” I asked, “O maid, and who parted you?”; and she answered, “The vicissitudes of fortune, but the manner of our separation was strange; and ’twas on this wise. One New Year’s day I had invited the damsels of Bassorah and amongst them a girl belonging to Siran, who had bought her out of Oman for four score thousand dirhams. She loved me and loved me to madness and when she entered she threw herself upon me and well nigh tore me in pieces with bites and pinches.1 Then we withdrew apart, to drink wine at our ease, till our meat was ready2 and our delight was complete, and she toyed with me and I with her, and now I was upon her and now she was upon me. Presently, the fumes of the wine moved her to strike her hand on the inkle of my petticoat trousers, whereby it became loosed, unknown of either of us, and my trousers fell down in our play. At this moment he came in unobserved and, seeing me thus, was wroth at the sight and made off, as the Arab filly hearing the tinkle of her bridle.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The morosa voluptas of the Catholic divines. The Sapphist described in the text would procure an orgasm (in gloria, as the Italians call it) by biting and rolling over the girl she loved; but by loosening the trouser-string she evidently aims at a closer tribadism the Arab “ Musáhikah.”
2 We drink (or drank) after dinner, Easterns before the meal and half-Easterns (like the Russians) before and after. We talk of liquor being unwholesome on an empty stomach; but the truth is that all is purely habit. And as the Russian accompanies his Vodka with caviare, etc., so the Oriental drinks his Raki or Mahayá (Ma al-hayát=aqua vitæ) alternately with a Salátah, for whose composition see Pilgrimage i. 198. The Eastern practice has its advantages: it awakens the appetite, stimulates digestion and, what Easterns greatly regard, it is economical; half a bottle doing the work of a whole. Bhang and Kusumbá (opium dissolved and strained through a pledges of cotton) are always drunk before dinner and thus the “jolly” time is the preprandial, not the postprandial.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the maiden said to Husayn al-Khali’a, “When my lover saw me playing, as I described to thee, with Siran’s girl, he went forth in anger. And ’tis now, O Shaykh, three years ago, and since then I have never ceased to excuse myself to him and coax him and crave his indulgence, but he will neither cast a look at me from the corner of his eye, nor write me a word nor speak to me by messenger nor hear from me aught.” Quoth I, “Harkye maid, is he an Arab or an Ajam?”; and quoth she, “Out on thee! He is of the Princes of Bassorah.” “Is he old or young?” asked I; and she looked at me laughingly and answered, “Thou art certainly a simpleton! He is like the moon on the night of its full, smooth checked and beardless, nor is there any defect in him except his aversion to me.” Then I put the question, “What is his name?” and she replied, “What wilt thou do with him?” I rejoined, “I will do my best to come at him, that I may bring about reunion between you.” Said she, “I will tell thee on condition that thou carry him a note;” and I said “I have no objection to that.” Then quoth she, “His name is Zamrah bin al-Mughayrah, hight Abú al-Sakhá,1 and his palace is in the Mirbad.” Therewith she called to those within for inkcase and paper and tucking up2 her sleeves, showed two wrists like broad rings of silver. She then wrote after the Basmalah as follows, “My lord, the omission of blessings3 at the head of this my letter shows mine insufficiency, and know that had my prayer been answered, thou hadst never left me; for how often have I prayed that thou shouldest not leave me, and yet thou didst leave me! Were it not that distress with me exceedeth the bounds of restraint, that which thy servant hath forced herself to do in writing this writ were an aidance to her, despite her despair of thee, because of her knowledge of thee that thou wilt fail to answer. Do thou fulfil her desire, my lord, of a sight of thee from the porch, as thou passest in the street, wherewith thou wilt quicken the dead soul in her. Or, far better for her still than this, do thou write her a letter with thine own hand (Allah endow it with all excellence!), and appoint it in requital of the intimacy that was between us in the nights of time past, whereof thou must preserve the memory. My lord, was I not to thee a lover sick with passion? An thou answer my prayer, I will give to thee thanks and to Allah praise; and so The Peace!”4 Then she gave me the letter and I went away. Next morning I repaired to the door of the Viceroy Mohammed bin Sulayman, where I found an assembly of the notables of Bassorah, and amongst them a youth who adorned the gathering and surpassed in beauty and brightness all who were there; and indeed the Emir Mohammed set him above himself. I asked who he was and behold, it was Zamrah himself: so I said in my mind, “Verily, there hath befallen yonder unhappy one that which hath befallen her5!” Then I betook myself to the Mirbad and stood waiting at the door of his house, till he came riding up in state, when I accosted him and invoking more than usual blessings on him, handed him the missive. When he read it and understood it he said to me, “O Shaykh, we have taken other in her stead. Say me, wilt thou see the substitute?” I answered, “Yes.” Whereupon he called out a woman’s name, and there came forth a damsel who shamed the two greater lights; swelling breasted, walking the gait of one who hasteneth without fear, to whom he gave the note, saying, “Do thou answer it.” When she read it, she turned pale at the contents and said to me, “ O old man, crave pardon of Allah for this that thou hast brought.” So I went out, O Commander of the Faithful, dragging my feet and returning to her asked leave to enter. When she saw me, she asked, “What is behind thee?”; and I answered, “Evil and despair.” Quoth she, “Have thou no concern of him. Where are Allah and His power?”6 Then she ordered me five hundred dinars and I took them and went away. Some days after I passed by the place and saw there horsemen and footmen. So I went in and lo! these were the companions of Zamrah, who were begging her to return to him; but she said, “No, by Allah, I will not look him in the face!” And she prostrated herself in gratitude to Allah and exultation over Zamrah’s defeat. Then I drew near her, and she pulled out to me a letter, wherein was written, after the Bismillah, “My lady, but for my forbearance towards thee (whose life Allah lengthen!) I would relate somewhat of what betided from thee and set out my excuse, in that thou transgressedst against me, whenas thou west manifestly a sinner against thyself and myself in breach of vows and lack of constancy and preference of another over us; for, by Allah, on whom we call for help against that which was of thy free will, thou didst transgress against the love of me; and so The Peace!” Then she showed me the presents and rarities he had sent her, which were of the value of thirty thousand dinars. I saw her again after this, and Zamrah had married her. Quoth Al–Rashid, “Had not Zamrah been beforehand with us, I should certainly have had to do with her myself.”7 And men tell the tale of
1 “Abu al-Sakhá” (pronounced Abussakhá) = Father of munificence.
2 ‘Arab. “Shammara,” also used for gathering up the gown, so as to run the faster.
3 i.e., blessing the Prophet and all True Believers (herself included).
4 The style of this letter is that of a public scribe in a Cairo market-place thirty years ago.
5 i.e.. she could not help falling in love with this beauty of a man.
6 “Kudrat,” used somewhat in the sense of our vague “Providence.” The sentence means, leave Omnipotence to manage him. Mr. Redhouse, who forces a likeness between Moslem and Christian theology, tells us that “Qader is unjustly translated by Fate and Destiny, an old pagan idea abhorrent to Al–Islam which reposes on God’s providence.” He makes Kazá and Kismet quasi-synonymes of “Qazá” and “Qader,” the former signifying God’s decree, the latter our allotted portion, and he would render both by dispensation. Of course it is convenient to forget the Guarded Tablet of the learned and the Night of Power and skull-lectures of the vulgar. The eminent Turkish scholar would also translate Salát by worship (du’á being prayer) because it signifies a simple act of adoration without entreaty. If he will read the Opener of the Koran, recited in every set of prayers, he will find an especial request to be “led to the path which is straight.” These vagaries are seriously adopted by Mr. E. J. W. Gibb in his Ottoman Poems (p. 245, etc.) London: Trübner and Co., 1882; and they deserve, I think, reprehension, because they serve only to mislead; and the high authority of the source whence they come necessarily recommends them to many.
7 The reader will have noticed the likeness of this tale to that of Ibn Mansúr and the Lady Budúr (vol. iv., 228 et seq.){Vol 4, Tale 42} For this reason Lane leaves it untranslated (iii. 252).
Quoth Ishak bin Ibrahim al-Mausili: I was in my house one night in the winter time, when the clouds had dispread themselves and the rains poured down in torrents, as from the mouths of water skins, and the folk forbore to come and go about the ways for that which was therein of rain and slough. Now I was straitened in breast because none of my brethren came to me nor could I go to them, by reason of the mud and mire; so I said to my servant, “Bring me wherewithal I may divert myself.” Accordingly he brought me meat and drink, but I had no heart to eat, without some one to keep me company, and I ceased not to look out of window and watch the ways till nightfall, when I bethought myself of a damsel belonging to one of the sons of Al–Mahdi,2 whom I loved and who was skilled in singing and playing upon instruments of music, and said to myself, “Were she here with us to night, my joy would be complete and my night would be abridged of the melancholy and restlessness which are upon me.” At this moment one knocked at the door, saying, “Shall a beloved enter in who standeth at the door?” Quoth I to myself, “Meseems the plant of my desire hath fruited.” So I went to the door and found my mistress, with a long green skirt3 wrapped about her and a kerchief of brocade on her head, to fend her from the rain. She was covered with mud to her knees and all that was upon her was drenched with water from gargoyles4 and house spouts; in short, she was in sorry plight. So I said to her, “O my mistress, what bringeth thee hither through all this mud?” Replied she, “Thy messenger came and set forth to me that which was with thee of love and longing, so that I could not choose but yield and hasten to thee.” I marvelled at this And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane also omits this tale (iii. 252). See Night dclxxxviii., vol. vii. p. 113 et seq., for a variant of the story.
2 Third Abbaside, A.H. 158–169 (=775–785), and father of Harun Al–Rashid. He is known chiefly for his eccentricities, such as cutting the throats of all his carrier-pigeons, making a man dine off marrow and sugar and having snow sent to him at Meccah, a distance of 700 miles.
3 Arab. “Mirt”; the dictionaries give a short shift, cloak or breeches of wool or coarse silk.
4 Arab. “Mayázíb” plur. of the Pers. Mizáb (orig. Míz-i-áb=channel of water) a spout for roof-rain. That which drains the Ka’abah on the N.-W. side is called Mizáb al-Rahmah (Gargoyle of Mercy) and pilgrims stand under it for a douche of holy water. It is supposed to be of gold, but really of silver gold-plated and is described of Burckhardt and myself. (Pilgrimage iii. 164.) The length is 4 feet 10 in.; width 9 in.; height of sides 8 in.; and slope at mouth 1 foot 6 in long.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel came and knocked at Ishak’s door, he went forth to her and cried, ‘O my lady, what bringeth thee hither through all this mud?”; and she replied, “Thy messenger came and set forth to me that which was with thee of love and longing, so that I could not choose but yield and hasten to thee.” I marvelled at this, but did not like to tell her that I had sent no messenger; wherefore I said, “Praised be Allah for that He hath brought us together, after all I have suffered by the mortification of patience! Verily, hadst thou delayed an hour longer, I must have run to thee, because of my much love for thee and longing for thy presence.” Then I called to my boy for water, that I might better her plight, and he brought a kettle full of hot water such as she wanted. I bade pour it over her feet, whilst I set to work to wash them myself; after which I called for one of my richest dresses and clad her therein after she had doffed the muddy clothes. Then, as soon as we were comfortably seated, I would have called for food, but she refused and I said to her, “Art thou for wine?”; and she replied, “Yes.” So I fetched cups and she asked me, “Who shall sing?” “I, O my princess!” “I care not for that;” “One of my damsels?” “I have no mind to that either!” “Then sing thyself.” “Not I!” “Who then shall sing for thee?” I enquired, and she rejoined, “Go out and seek some one to sing for me.” So I went out, in obedience to her, though I despaired of finding any one in such weather and fared on till I came to the main street, where I suddenly saw a blind man striking the earth with his staff and saying, “May Allah not requite with weal those with whom I was! When I sang, they listened not, and when I was silent, they made light of me.” So I said to him, “Art thou a singer?” and he replied, “Yes.” Quoth I, “Wilt thou finish thy night with us and cheer us with thy company?”; and quoth he, “If it be thy will, take my hand.” So I took his hand and, leading him to my house, said to the damsel, “O my mistress, I have brought a blind singer, with whom we may take our pleasure and he will not see us.” She said, “Bring him to me.” So I brought him in and invited him to eat. He ate but a very little and washed his hands, after which I brought him wine and he drank three cupsful. Then he said to me, “Who art thou?”; and I replied, “I am Ishak bin Ibrahim al-Mausili.” Quoth he, “I have heard of thee and now I rejoice in thy company;” and I, “O my lord, I am glad in thy gladness.” He said, “O Ishak, sing to me.” So I took the lute by way of jest, and cried, “I hear and I obey.” When I had made an end of my song, he said to me, “O Ishak, thou comest nigh to be a singer!” His words belittled me in mine own eyes and I threw the lute from my hand, whereupon he said, “Hast thou not with thee some one who is skilled in singing?” Quoth I, “I have a damsel with me;” and quoth he “Bid her sing.” I asked him, “Wilt thou sing, when thou hast had enough of her singing?”; and he answered “Yes.” So she sang and he said, “Nay, thou hast shown no art.” Whereupon she flung the lute from her hand in wrath and cried, “We have done our best: if thou have aught, favour us with it by way of an alms.” Quoth he, “Bring me a lute hand hath not touched.” So I bade the servant bring him a new lute and he tuned it and preluding in a mode I knew not began to sing, improvising these couplets,
“Clove through the shades and came to me in night so dark and sore
The lover weeting of herself ’twas trysting tide once more:
Naught startled us but her salaam and first of words she said
‘May a beloved enter in who standeth at the door!’”
When the girl heard this, she looked at me askance and said, “What secret was between us could not thy breast hold for one hour, but thou must discover it to this man?” However, I swore to her that I had not told him and excused myself to her and fell to kissing her hands and tickling her breasts and biting her cheeks, till she laughed and, turning to the blind man, said to him, “Sing, O my lord!” So he took the lute and sang these two couplets,
“Ah, often have I sought the fair; how often fief and fain
My palming felt the finger ends that bear the varied stain!
And tickled pouting breasts that stand firm as pomegranates twain
And bit the apple of her cheek kissed o’er and o’er again.”
So I said to her, “O my princess, who can have told him what we were about?” Replied she, “True,” and we moved away from him. Presently quoth he, “I must make water;” and quoth I, “O boy, take the candle and go before him.” Then he went out and tarried a long while. So we went in search of him, but could not find him; and behold, the doors were locked and the keys in the closet, and we knew not whether to heaven he had flown or into earth had sunk. Wherefore I knew that he was Iblis and that he had done me pimp’s duty, and I returned, recalling to my self the words of Abu Nowas in these couplets,
“I marvel in Iblis such pride to see
Beside his low intent and villainy:
He sinned to Adam who to bow refused,
Yet pimps for all of Adam’s progeny,”
And they tell a tale concerning
Quoth Ibrahim the father of Ishak,1 I was ever a devoted friend to the Barmecide family. And it so happened to me one day, as I sat at home quite alone, a knock was heard at the door; so my servant went out and returned, saying, “A comely youth is at the door, asking admission.” I bade admit him and there came in to me a young man, on whom were signs of sickness, and he said, “I have long wished to meet thee, for I have need of thine aid.” “What is it thou requirest?” asked I. Whereupon he pulled out three hundred dinars and laying them before me, said, “I beseech thee to accept these and compose me an air to two couplets I have made.” Said I, “Repeat them to me;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Mac. and Bull Edits. have by mistake “Son of Ishak.” Lane has “Is-hale the Son of Ibrahim” following Trébutien (iii. 483) but suggests in a note the right reading as above.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the youth came in to Ibrahim and placed the gold in his hands, saying, “Prithee accept it and compose me an air to two couplets,” he replied, “Recite them to me,” whereupon he recited,
“By Allah, glance of mine! thou hast opprest
My heart, so quench the fire that burns my breast
Blames me the world because in him1
I live Yet cannot see him till in shroud I rest.”
Accordingly, quoth Ibrahim, I set the verses to an air plaintive as a dirge and sang it to him; whereupon he swooned away and I thought that he was dead. However, after a while, he came to himself, and said to me, “Repeat the air.” But I conjured him by Allah to excuse me, saying, “I fear lest thou die.” “Would Heaven it were so!” replied he and ceased not humbly to importune me, till I had pity on him and repeated it; whereupon he cried out with a grievous cry and fell into a fit worse than before and I doubted not but that he was dead; but I sprinkled rose water on him till he revived and sat up. I praised Allah for his recovery and laying the ducats before him, said, “Take thy money and depart from me.” Quoth he, “I have no need of the money and thou shalt have the like of it, if thou wilt repeat the air.” My breast broadened at the mention of the money and I said, “I will repeat it, but on three conditions: the first, that thou tarry with me and eat of my victual, till thou regain strength; the second, that thou drink wine enough to hearten thy heart, and the third, that thou tell me thy tale.” He agreed to this and ate and drank; after which he said, “I am of the citizens of Al–Medinah and I went forth one day a pleasuring with my friends; and, following the road to Al–Akík,2 saw a company of girls and amongst them a damsel as she were a branch pearled with dew with eyes whose sidelong glances were never withdrawn till they had stolen away his soul who looked on them. The maidens rested in the shade till the end of the day, when they went away leaving in my heart wounds slow to heal. I returned next morning to scent out news of her, but found none who could tell me of her; so I sought her in the streets and markets, but could come on no trace of her; wherefore I fell ill of grief and told my case to one of my kinsmen, who said to me, ‘No harm shall befall thee: the days of spring are not yet past and the skies show sign of rain,3 whereupon she will go forth, and I will go out with thee, and do thou thy will.’ His words comforted my heart and I waited till al-Akik ran with water, when I went forthwith my friends and kinsmen and sat in the very same place where I first saw her. We had not been seated long before up came the women, like horses running for a wager; and I whispered to a girl of my kindred, ‘Say to yonder damse — ‘Quoth this man to thee, He did well who spoke this couplet,
‘She shot my heart with shaft, then turned on heel
And flying dealt fresh wound and scarring wheel.’
So she went to her and repeated my words, to which she replied saying, ‘Tell him that he said well who answered in this couplet,
‘The like of whatso feelest thou we feel;
Patience! perchance swift cure our hearts shall heal.’
I refrained from further speech for fear of scandal and rose to go away. She rose at my rising, and I followed and she looked back at me, till she saw I had noted her abode. Then she began to come to me and I to go to her, so that we foregathered and met often, till the case was noised abroad and grew notorious and her sire came to know of it. However I ceased not to meet her most assiduously and complained of my condition to my father, who assembled our kindred and repaired to ask her in marriage for me, of her sire, who cried, ‘Had this been proposed to me before he gave her a bad name by his assignations, I would have consented; but now the thing is notorious and I am loath to verify the saying of the folk.’ ” Then (continued Ibrahim) I repeated the air to him and he went away, after having acquainted me with his abode, and we became friends. Now I was devoted to the Barmecides; so next time Ja’afar bin Yahya sat to give audience, I attended, as was my wont, and sang to him the young man’s verses. They pleased him and he drank some cups of wine and said, “Fie upon thee whose song is this?” So I told him the young man’s tale and he bade me ride over to him and give him assurances of the winning of his wish. Accordingly I fetched him to Ja’afar who asked him to repeat his story. He did so and Ja’afar said, “Thou art now under my protection: trust me to marry thee to her.” So his heart was comforted and he abode with us. When the morning morrowed Ja’afar mounted and went in to Al–Rashid, to whom he related the story. The Caliph was pleased with it and sending for the young man and myself, commanded me to repeat the air and drank thereto. Then he wrote to the Governor of Al–Hijaz, bidding him despatch the girl’s father and his household in honour able fashion to his presence and spare no expense for their outfit. So, in a little while, they came and the Caliph, sending for the man, commanded him to marry his daughter to her lover; after which he gave him an hundred thousand dinars, and the father went back to his folk. As for the young man, he abode one of Ja’afar’s cup companions till there happened what happened4 whereupon he returned with his household to al-Medinah; may Almighty Allah have mercy upon their souls one and all! And they also tell, O auspicious King, a tale of
1 Again masculine for feminine.
2 There are two of this name. The Upper al-Akik contains the whole site of Al–Medinah; the Lower is on the Meccan road about four miles S.W. of the city. The Prophet called it “blessed” because ordered by an angel to pray therein. The poets have said pretty things about it, e.g.
O friend, this is the vale Akik; here stand and strive in thought:
If not a very lover, strive to be by love distraught!
for whose esoteric meaning see Pilgrimage ii. 24. I passed through Al–Akík in July when it was dry as summer dust and its “beautiful trees” were mere vegetable mummies.
3 Those who live in the wet climates of the Northern temperates can hardly understand the delight of a shower in rainless lands, like Arabia and Nubia. In Sind we used to strip and stand in the downfall and raise faces sky-wards to get the full benefit of the douche. In Southern Persia food is hastily cooked at such times, wine strained, Kaliuns made ready and horses saddled for a ride to the nearest gardens and a happy drinking-bout under the cypresses. If a man refused, his friends would say of him, “ See how he turns his back upon the blessing of Allah!” (like an ass which presents its tail to the weather).
4 i.e. the destruction of the Barmecides.
There was given to Abú Ámir bin Marwán,1 a boy of the Christians, than whom never fell eyes on a handsomer. Al–Nasir the conquering Soldan saw him and said to Abu Amir, who was his Wazir, “Whence cometh this boy?” Replied he, “From Allah;” whereupon the other, “Wilt thou terrify us with stars and make us prisoner with moons?” Abu Amir excused himself to him and preparing a present, sent it to him with the boy, to whom he said, “Be thou part of the gift: were it not of necessity, my soul had not consented to give thee away.” And he wrote with him these two couplets,
“My lord, this full moon takes in Heaven of thee new birth;
Nor can deny we Heaven excelleth humble earth:
Thee with my soul I please and oh! the pleasant case!
No man e’er saw I who to give his soul prefer’th.”
The thing pleased Al–Nasir and he requited him with much treasure and the Minister became high in favour with him. After this, there was presented to the Wazir a slave girl, one of the loveliest women in the world, and he feared lest this should come to the King’s ears and he desire her, and the like should happen as with the boy. So he made up a present still costlier than the first and sent it with her to the King — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 He was Wazir to the Great “Saladin” (Saláh al-Din = one conforming with the Faith):, ) See vol. iv. 271, where Saladin is also entitled Al–Malik c al-Nasir = the Conquering King. He was a Kurd and therefore fond of boys (like Virgil, Horace, etc.), but that perversion did not prey prevent his being one of the noblest of men. He lies in the Great Amawi Mosque of Damascus and I never visited a tomb with more reverence.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Abu Amir, when presented with the beautiful slave girl, feared lest it come to the Conquering King’s ears and that the like should happen as with the boy, so he made up a present still costlier than the first and sent it with her to his master, accompanying it with these couplets,
“My lord, this be the Sun, the Moon thou hadst before;
So the two greater lights now in thy Heaven unite:
Conjunction promising to me prosperity,
And Kausar draught to thee and Eden’s long delight.
Earth shows no charms, by Allah, ranking as their third,
Nor King who secondeth our Conquering King in might.”
Wherefore his credit redoubled with al-Nasir; but, after a while, one of his enemies maligned him to the King, alleging that there still lurked in him a hot lust for the boy and that he ceased not to desire him, whenever the cool northern breezes moved him, and to gnash his teeth for having given him away. Cried the King, “Wag not thou thy tongue at him, or I will shear off thy head.” However, he wrote Abu Amir a letter, as from the boy. to the following effect: “O my lord, thou knowest that thou wast all and one to me and that I never ceased from delight with thee. Albeit I am with the Sultan, yet would I choose rather solitude with thee, but that I fear the King’s majesty: wherefore devise thou to demand me of him.” This letter he sent to Abu Amir by a little foot page, whom he enjoined to say, “This is from such an one: the King never speaketh to him.” When the Wazir read the letter and heard the cheating message, he noted the poison draught1 and wrote on the back of the note these couplets,
“Shall man experience-lectured ever care
Fool-like to thrust his head in lion’s lair?
I’m none of those whose wits to love succumb
Nor witless of the snares my foes prepare:
Wert thou my sprite, I’d give thee loyally;
Shall sprite, from body sundered, backwards fare?”
When al-Nasir knew of this answer, he marvelled at the Wazir’s quickness of wit and would never again lend ear to aught of insinuations against him. Then said he to him, “How didst thou escape falling into the net?” And he replied, “Because my reason is unentangled in the toils of passion.” And they also tell a tale of
1 Arab. “Ahassa bi’l-Shurbah:” in our idiom “he smelt a rat”.
There lived in the time of Harun al-Rashid a man named Ahmad al-Danaf and another Hasan Shúmán2 hight, the twain past-masters in fraud and feints, who had done rare things in their day; wherefore the Caliph invested them with caftans of honour and made them Captains of the Watch for Baghdad (Ahmad of the right hand and Hasan of the left hand); and appointed to each of them a stipend of a thousand dinars a month and forty stalwart men to be at their bidding. Moreover to Calamity Ahmad was committed the watch of the district outside the walls. So Ahmad and Hasan went forth in company of the Emir Khalid, the Wali or Chief of Police, attended each by his forty followers on horse-back, and preceded by the Crier, crying aloud and saying, “By command of the Caliph! None is captain of the watch of the right hand but Ahmad al-Danaf and none is captain of the watch of the left hand but Hasan Shuman, and both are to be obeyed when they bid and are to be held in all honour and worship.” Now there was in the city an old woman called Dalílah the Wily, who had a daughter by name Zaynab the Coney-catcher. They heard the proclamation made and Zaynab said to Dalilah, “See, O my mother, this fellow, Ahmad al-Danaf! He came hither from Cairo, a fugitive, and played the double-dealer in Baghdad, till he got into the Caliph’s company and is now become captain of the right hand, whilst that mangy chap Hasan Shuman is captain of the left hand, and each hath a table spread morning and evening and a monthly wage of a thousand dinars; whereas we abide unemployed and neglected in this house, without estate and without honour, and have none to ask of us.” Now Dalilah’s husband had been town-captain of Baghdad with a monthly wage of one thousand dinars; but he died leaving two daughters, one married and with a son by name Ahmad al- Lakít3 or Ahmad the Abortion; and the other called Zaynab, a spinster. And this Dalilah was a past mistress in all manner of craft and trickery and double dealing; she could wile the very dragon out of his den and Iblis himself might have learnt deceit of her. Her father4 had also been governor of the carrier-pigeons to the Caliph with a solde of one thousand dinars a month. He used to rear the birds to carry letters and messages, wherefore in time of need each was dearer to the Caliph than one of his own sons. So Zaynab said to her mother, “Up and play off some feint and fraud that may haply make us notorious”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This and the next tale are omitted by Lane (iii. 254) on “account of its vulgarity, rendered more objectionable by indecent incidents.” It has been honoured with a lithographed reprint at Cairo A.H. 1278 and the Bresl. Edit. ix. 193 calls it the “Tale of Ahmad al-Danaf with Dalílah.”
2 “Ahmad, the Distressing Sickness,” or “Calamity;” Hasan the Pestilent and Dalílah the bawd. See vol. ii. 329, and vol. iv. 75.
3 A fœtus, a foundling, a contemptible fellow.
4 In the Mac. Edit. “her husband”: the end of the tale shows the error, infra, p. 171. The Bresl. Edit., x. 195, informs us that Dalilah was a “Faylasúfiyah”=philosopheress.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Zaynab thus addressed her dam, “Up and play off some feint and fraud which may haply make us notorious in Baghdad, so perchance we shall win our father’s stipend for ourselves.” Replied the old trot, “As thy head liveth, O my daughter, I will play off higher-class rogueries in Baghdad than ever played Calamity Ahmad or Hasan the Pestilent.” So saying, she rose and threw over her face the Lisam-veil and donned clothes such as the poorer Sufis wear, petticoat-trousers falling over her heels, and a gown of white wool with a broad girdle. She also took a pitcher1 and filled it with water to the neck; after which she set three dinars in the mouth and stopped it up with a plug of palm-fibre. Then she threw round her shoulder, baldrick-wise, a rosary as big as a load of firewood, and taking in her hand a flag, made of parti-coloured rags, red and yellow and green, went out, crying, “Allah! Allah!” with tongue celebrating the praises of the Lord, whilst her heart galloped in the Devil’s race-course, seeking how she might play some sharping trick upon town. She walked from street to street, till she came to an alley swept and watered and marble-paved, where she saw a vaulted gateway, with a threshold of alabaster, and a Moorish porter standing at the door, which was of sandalwood plated with brass and furnished with a ring of silver for knocker. Now this house belonged to the Chief of the Caliph’s Serjeant-ushers, a man of great wealth in fields, houses and allowances, called the Emir Hasan Sharr al-Tarík, or Evil of the Way, and therefor called because his blow forewent his word. He was married to a fair damsel, Khátún2 hight, whom he loved and who had made him swear, on the night of his going in unto her, that he would take none other to wife over her nor lie abroad for a single night. And so things went on till one day, he went to the Divan and saw that each Emir had with him a son or two. Then he entered the Hammam-bath and looking at his face in the mirror, noted that the white hairs in his beard overlay its black, and he said in himself, “Will not He who took thy sire bless thee with a son?” So he went in to his wife, in angry mood, and she said to him, “Good evening to thee”; but he replied, “Get thee out of my sight: from the day I saw thee I have seen naught of good.” “How so?” quoth she. Quoth he, “On the night of my going in unto thee, thou madest me swear to take no other wife over thee, and this very day I have seen each Emir with a son and some with two. So I minded me of death3; and also that to me hath been vouchsafed neither son nor daughter and that whoso leaveth no male hath no memory. This, then, is the reason of my anger, for thou art barren; and knowing thee is like planing a rock.” Cried she, “Allah’s name upon thee. Indeed, I have worn out the mortars with beating wool and pounding drugs,4 and I am not to blame; the barrenness is with thee, for that thou art a snub-nosed mule and thy sperm is weak and watery and impregnateth not neither getteth children.” Said he, “When I return from my journey, I will take another wife;” and she, “My luck is with Allah!” Then he went out from her and both repented of the sharp words spoken each to other. Now as the Emir’s wife looked forth of her lattice, as she were a Bride of the Hoards5 for the jewellery upon her, behold, there stood Dalilah espying her and seeing her clad in costly clothes and ornaments, said to herself, “‘Twould be a rare trick, O Dalilah, to entice yonder young lady from her husband’s house and strip her of all her jewels and clothes and make off with the whole lot.” So she took up her stand under the windows of the Emir’s house, and fell to calling aloud upon Allah’s name and saying, “Be present, O ye Walis, ye friends of the Lord!” Whereupon every woman in the street looked from her lattice and, seeing a matron clad, after Sufi fashion, in clothes of white wool, as she were a pavilion of light, said, “Allah bring us a blessing by the aidance of this pious old person, from whose face issueth light!” And Khatun, the wife of the Emir Hasan, burst into tears and said to her handmaid, “Get thee down, O Makbúlah, and kiss the hand of Shaykh Abú Alí, the porter, and say to him, ‘Let yonder Religious enter to my lady, so haply she may get a blessing of her.’” So she went down to the porter and kissing his hand, said to him, “My mistress telleth thee, ‘Let yonder pious old woman come in to me, so may I get a blessing of her’; and belike her benediction may extend to us likewise.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ibrík” usually a ewer, a spout-pot, from the Pers. Ab-ríz=water-pourer: the old woman thus vaunted her ceremonial purity. The basin and ewer are called in poetry “the two rumourers,” because they rattle when borne about.
2 Khátún in Turk. is=a lady, a dame of high degree; at times as here and elsewhere, it becomes a P. N.
3 Arab. “Maut,” a word mostly avoided in the Koran and by the Founder of Christianity.
4 Arab. “Akákír,” drugs, spices, simples which cannot be distinguished without study and practice. Hence the proverb (Burckhardt, 703), Is this an art of drugs? — difficult as the druggist’s craft?
5 i.e. Beautiful as the fairy damsels who guard enchanted treasures, such as that of Al–Shamardal (vol. vi. 221).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the handmaid went down and said to the porter, “Suffer yonder Religious enter to my lady so haply she may get a blessing of her, and we too may be blessed, one and all,” the gate-keeper went up to Dalilah and kissed her hand, but she forbade him, saying, “Away from me, lest my ablution be made null and void.1 Thou, also, art of the attracted God-wards and kindly looked upon by Allah’s Saints and under His especial guardianship. May He deliver thee from this servitude, O Abu Ali!” Now the Emir owed three months’ wage to the porter who was straitened thereby, but knew not how to recover his due from his lord; so he said to the old woman, “O my mother, give me to drink from thy pitcher, so I may win a blessing through thee.” She took the ewer from her shoulder and whirled it about in air, so that the plug flew out of its mouth and the three dinars fell to the ground. The porter saw them and picked them up, saying in his mind, “Glory to God! This old woman is one of the Saints that have hoards at their command! It hath been revealed to her of me that I am in want of money for daily expenses; so she hath conjured me these three dinars out of the air.” Then said he to her, “Take, O my aunt, these three dinars which fell from thy pitcher;” and she replied, “Away with them from me! I am of the folk who occupy not themselves with the things of the world, no never! Take them and use them for thine own benefit, in lieu of those the Emir oweth thee.” Quoth he, “Thanks to Allah for succour! This is of the chapter of revelation!” Thereupon the maid accosted her and kissing her hand, carried her up to her mistress. She found the lady as she were a treasure, whose guardian talisman had been loosed; and Khatun bade her welcome and kissed her hand. Quoth she, “O my daughter, I come not to thee save for thy weal and by Allah’s will.” Then Khatun set food before her; but she said, “O my daughter, I eat naught except of the food of Paradise and I keep continual fast breaking it but five days in the year. But, O my child, I see thee chagrined and desire that thou tell me the cause of thy concern.” “O my mother,” replied Khatun, “I made my husband swear, on my wedding-night, that he would wive none but me, and he saw others with children and longed for them and said to me, ‘Thou art a barren thing!’ I answered, ‘Thou art a mule which begetteth not’; so he left me in anger, saying, ‘When I come back from my journey, I will take another wife,’ for he hath villages and lands and large allowances, and if he begat children by another, they will possess the money and take the estates from me.” Said Dalilah, “O my daughter, knowest thou not of my master, the Shaykh Abú al-Hamlát,2 whom if any debtor visit, Allah quitteth him his debt, and if a barren woman, she conceiveth?” Khatun replied, “O my mother, since the day of my wedding I have not gone forth the house, no, not even to pay visits of condolence or congratulation.” The old woman rejoined, “O my child, I will carry thee to him and do thou cast thy burden on him and make a vow to him: haply when thy husband shall return from his journey and lie with thee thou shalt conceive by him and bear a girl or a boy: but, be it female or male, it shall be a dervish of the Shaykh Abu al-Hamlat.” Thereupon Khatun rose and arrayed herself in her richest raiment, and donning all her jewellery said, “Keep thou an eye on the house,” to her maid, who replied, “I hear and obey, O my lady.” Then she went down and the porter Abu Ali met her and asked her, “Whither away, O my lady?” “I go to visit the Shaykh Abu al-Hamlat;” answered she; and he, “Be a year’s fast incumbent on me! Verily yon Religious is of Allah’s saints and full of holiness, O my lady, and she hath hidden treasure at her command, for she gave me three dinars of red gold and divined my case, without my asking her, and knew that I was in want.” Then the old woman went out with the young lady Khatun, saying to her, “Inshallah, O my daughter, when thou hast visited the Shaykh Abu al-Hamlat, there shall betide thee solace of soul and by leave of Almighty Allah thou shalt conceive, and thy husband the Emir shall love thee by the blessing of the Shaykh and shall never again let thee hear a despiteful word.” Quoth Khatun, “I will go with thee to visit him, O my mother!” But Dalilah said to herself, “Where shall I strip her and take her clothes and jewellery, with the folk coming and going?” Then she said to her, “O my daughter, walk thou behind me, within sight of me, for this thy mother is a woman sorely burdened; everyone who hath a burden casteth it on me and all who have pious offerings3 to make give them to me and kiss my hand.” So the young lady followed her at a distance, whilst her anklets tinkled and her hair-coins4 clinked as she went, till they reached the bazar of the merchants. Presently, they came to the shop of a young merchant, by name Sídí Hasan who was very handsome5 and had no hair on his face. He saw the lady approaching and fell to casting stolen glances at her, which when the old woman saw, she beckoned to her and said, “Sit down in this shop, till I return to thee.” Khatun obeyed her and sat down in the shop-front of the young merchant, who cast at her one glance of eyes that cost him a thousand sighs. Then the old woman accosted him and saluted him, saying, “Tell me, is not thy name Sidi Hasan, son of the merchant Mohsin?” He replied, “Yes, who told thee my name?” Quoth she, “Folk of good repute direct me to thee. Know that this young lady is my daughter and her father was a merchant who died and left her much money. She is come of marriageable age and the wise say, ‘Offer thy daughter in marriage and not thy son’; and all her life she hath not come forth the house till this day. Now a divine warning and a command given in secret bid me wed her to thee; so, if thou art poor, I will give thee capital and will open for thee instead of one shop two shops.” Thereupon quoth the young merchant to himself, “I asked Allah for a bride, and He hath given me three things, to wit, coin, clothing, and coynte.” Then he continued to the old trot, “O my mother, that where-to thou directest me is well; but this long while my mother saith to me, ‘I wish to marry thee,’ but I object replying, ‘I will not marry except on the sight of my own eyes.’” Said Dalilah, “Rise and follow my steps, and I will show her to thee, naked.”6 So he rose and took a thousand dinars, saying in himself, “Haply we may need to buy somewhat”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. by contact with a person in a state of ceremonial impurity; servants are not particular upon this point and “Salát mamlúkíyah” (Mameluke’s prayers) means praying without ablution.
2 i.e. Father of assaults, burdens or pregnancies; the last being here the meaning.
3 Ex votos and so forth.
4 Arab. “Iksah,” plaits, braids, also the little gold coins and other ornaments worn in the hair, now mostly by the middle and lower classes. Low Europeans sometimes take advantage of the native prostitutes by detaching these valuables, a form of “bilking” peculiar to the Nile–Valley.
5 In Bresl. Edit. Malíh Kawí (pron. ‘Awi), a Cairene vulgarism.
6 Meaning without veil or upper clothing.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman said to Hasan, son of Mohsin the merchant, “Rise up and follow me, and I will show her naked to thee.” So he rose and took with him a thousand dinars, saying in himself, “Haply we may need to buy somewhat or pay the fees for drawing up the marriage contract.” The old woman bade him walk behind the young lady at a distance but within shot of sight and said to herself, “Where wilt thou carry the young lady and the merchant that thou mayest strip them both whilst his shop is still shut?” Then she walked on and Khatun after her, followed by the young merchant, till she came to a dyery, kept by a master dyer, by name Hajj Mohammed, a man of ill-repute; like the colocasia1 seller’s knife cutting male and female, and loving to eat both figs and pomegranates.2 He heard the tinkle of the ankle rings and, raising his head, saw the lady and the young man. Presently the old woman came up to him and, after salaming to him and sitting down opposite him, asked him, “Art thou not Hajj Mohammed the dyer?” He answered, “Yes, I am he: what dost thou want?” Quoth she, “Verily, folks of fair repute have directed me to thee. Look at yonder handsome girl, my daughter, and that comely beardless youth, my son; I brought them both up and spent much money on both of them. Now, thou must know that I have a big old ruinous house which I have shored up with wood, and the builder saith to me, ‘Go and live in some other place, lest belike it fall upon thee; and when this is repaired return hither.’ So I went forth to seek me a lodging, and people of worth directed me to thee, and I wish to lodge my son and daughter with thee.” Quoth the dyer in his mind, “Verily, here is fresh butter upon cake come to thee.” But he said to the old woman, “’Tis true I have a house and saloon and upper floor; but I cannot spare any part thereof, for I want it all for guests and for the indigo-growers my clients.” She replied, “O my son, ’twill be only for a month or two at the most, till our house be repaired, and we are strange folk. Let the guest-chamber be shared between us and thee, and by thy life, O my son, an thou desire that thy guests be ours, we will welcome them and eat with them and sleep with them.” Then he gave her the keys, one big and one small and one crooked, saying to her “The big key is that of the house, the crooked one that of the saloon and the little one that of the upper floor.” So Dalilah took the keys and fared on, followed by the lady who forwent the young merchant, till she came to the lane wherein was the house. She opened the door and entered, introducing the damsel to whom said she, “O my daughter, this (pointing to the saloon) is the lodging of the Shaykh Abu al-Hamlat; but go thou into the upper floor and loose thy outer veil and wait till I come to thee.” So she went up and sat down. Presently appeared the young merchant, whom Dalilah carried into the saloon, saying, “Sit down, whilst I fetch my daughter and show her to thee.” So he sat down and the old trot went up to Khatun who said to her, “I wish to visit the Shaykh, before the folk come.” Replied the beldame, “O my daughter, we fear for thee.” Asked Khatun, “Why so?” and Dalilah answered, “Because here is a son of mine, a natural who knoweth not summer from winter, but goeth ever naked. He is the Shaykh’s deputy and, if he saw a girl like thee come to visit his chief, he would snatch her earrings and tear her ears and rend her silken robes.3 So do thou doff thy jewellery and clothes and I will keep them for thee, till thou hast made thy pious visitation.” Accordingly the damsel did off her outer dress and jewels and gave them to the old woman, who said, “I will lay them for thee on the Shaykh’s curtain, that a blessing may betide thee.” Then she went out, leaving the lady in her shift and petticoat-trousers, and hid the clothes and jewels in a place on the staircase; after which she betook herself to the young merchant, whom she found impatiently awaiting the girl, and he cried, “Where is thy daughter, that I may see her?” But she smote palm on breast and he said “What aileth thee?” Quoth she, “Would there were no such thing as the ill neighbour and the envious! They saw thee enter the house with me and asked me of thee; and I said, ‘This is a bridegroom I have found for my daughter.’ So they envied me on thine account and said to my girl, ‘Is thy mother tired of keeping thee, that she marrieth thee to a leper?’ There-upon I swore to her that she should not see thee save naked.” Quoth he, “I take refuge with Allah from the envious,” and baring his fore-arm, showed her that it was like silver. Said she, “Have no fear; thou shalt see her naked, even as she shall see thee naked;” and he said, “Let her come and look at me. Then he put off his pelisse and sables and his girdle and dagger and the rest of his raiment, except his shirt and bag-trousers, and would have laid the purse of a thousand dinars with them, but Dalilah cried, ‘Give them to me, that I may take care of them.” So she took them and fetching the girl’s clothes and jewellery shouldered the whole and locking the door upon them went her ways. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kallakás” the edible African arum before explained. This Colocasia is supposed to bear, unlike the palm, male and female flowers in one spathe.
2 See vol. iii. 302. The figs refer to the anus and the pomegranates, like the sycomore, to the female parts. Me nec fæmina nec puer, &c., says Horace in pensive mood.
3 It is in accordance to custom that the Shaykh be attended by a half-witted fanatic who would be made furious by seeing gold and silks in the reverend presence so coyly curtained.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman had taken the property of the young merchant and the damsel and wended her ways, having locked the door upon them, she deposited her spoils with a druggist of her acquaintance and returned to the dyer, whom she found sitting, awaiting her. Quoth he, “Inshallah, the house pleaseth thee?”; and quoth she, “There is a blessing in it; and I go now to fetch porters to carry hither our goods and furniture. But my children would have me bring them a panade with meat; so do thou take this dinar and buy the dish and go and eat the morning meal with them.” Asked the dyer, “Who shall guard the dyery meanwhile and the people’s goods that be therein?”; and the old woman answered, “Thy lad!” “So be it,” rejoined he, and taking a dish and cover, went out to do her bidding. So far concerning the dyer who will again be mentioned in the tale; but as regards the old woman, she fetched the clothes and jewels she had left with the druggist and going back to the dyery, said to the lad, “Run after thy master, and I will not stir hence till you both return.” “To hear is to obey,” answered he and went away, while she began to collect all the customers’ goods. Presently, there came up an ass-driver, a scavenger, who had been out of work for a week and who was an Hashish-eater to boot; and she called him, saying, “Hither, O donkey-boy!” So he came to her and she asked, “Knowest thou my son the dyer?”; whereto he answered, “Yes, I know him.” Then she said, “The poor fellow is insolvent and loaded with debts, and as often as he is put in prison, I set him free. Now we wish to see him declared bankrupt and I am going to return the goods to their owners; so do thou lend me thine ass to carry the load and receive this dinar to its hire. When I am gone, take the handsaw and empty out the vats and jars and break them, so that if there come an officer from the Kází‘s court, he may find nothing in the dyery.” Quoth he, “I owe the Hajj a kindness and will do something for Allah’s love.” So she laid the things on the ass and, the Protector protecting her, made for her own house; so that she arrived there in safety and went in to her daughter Zaynab, who said to her, “O my mother, my heart bath been with thee! What hast thou done by way of roguery?” Dalilah replied, “I have played off four tricks on four wights; the wife of the Serjeant-usher, a young merchant, a dyer and an ass-driver, and have brought thee all their spoil on the donkey-boy’s beast.” Cried Zaynab, “O my mother, thou wilt never more be able to go about the town, for fear of the Serjeant-usher, whose wife’s raiment and jewellery thou hast taken, and the merchant whom thou hast stripped naked, and the dyer whose customers’ goods thou hast stolen and the owner of the ass.” Rejoined the old woman, “Pooh, my girl! I reck not of them, save the donkey-boy, who knoweth me.” Meanwhile the dyer bought the meat-panade and set out for the house, followed by his servant with the food on head. On his way thither, he passed his shop, where he found the donkey-boy breaking the vats and jars and saw that there was neither stuff nor liquor left in them and that the dyery was in ruins. So he said to him, “Hold thy hand, O ass-driver;” and the donkey-boy desisted and cried, “Praised be Allah for thy safety, O master! Verily my heart was with thee.” “Why so?” “Thou art become bankrupt and they have filed a docket of thine insolvency.” “Who told thee this?” “Thy mother told me, and bade me break the jars and empty the vats, that the Kazi’s officers might find nothing in the shop, if they should come.” “Allah confound the far One!”1 cried the dyer; “My mother died long ago.” And he beat his breast, exclaiming, “Alas, for the loss of my goods and those of the folk!” The donkey-boy also wept and ejaculated, “Alas, for the loss of my ass!”; and he said to the dyer, “Give me back my beast which thy mother stole from me.” The dyer laid hold of him by the throat and fell to buffeting him, saying, “Bring me the old woman;” whilst the other buffeted him in return saying, “Give me back my beast.” So they beat and cursed each other, till the folk collected around them — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In English, “God damn everything an inch high!”
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the dyer caught hold of the donkey-boy and the donkey-boy caught hold of the dyer and they beat and cursed each other till the folk collected round them and one of them asked, “What is the matter, O Master Mohammed?” The ass-driver answered, “I will tell thee the tale,” and related to them his story, saying, “I deemed I was doing the dyer a good turn; but, when he saw me he beat his breast and said, ‘My mother is dead.’ And now, I for one require my ass of him, it being he who hath put this trick on me, that he might make me lose my beast.” Then said the folk to the dyer, “O Master Mohammed, dost thou know this matron, that thou didst entrust her with the dyery and all therein?” And he replied, “I know her not; but she took lodgings with me to-day, she and her son and daughter.” Quoth one, “In my judgment, the dyer is bound to indemnify the ass-driver.” Quoth another, “Why so?” “Because,” replied the first, “he trusted not the old Woman nor gave her his ass save only because he saw that the dyer had entrusted her with the dyery and its contents.” And a third said, “O master, since thou hast lodged her with thee, it behoveth thee to get the man back his ass.” Then they made for the house, and the tale will come round to them again. Mean-while, the young merchant remained awaiting the old woman’s coming with her daughter, but she came not nor did her daughter; whilst the young lady in like manner sat expecting her return with leave from her son, the God-attended one, the Shaykh’s deputy, to go in to the holy presence. So weary of waiting, she rose to visit the Shaykh by herself and went down into the saloon, where she found the young merchant, who said to her, “Come hither! where is thy mother, who brought me to marry thee?” She replied, “My mother is dead, art thou the old woman’s son, the ecstatic, the deputy of the Shaykh Abu al-Hamlat?” Quoth he, “The swindling old trot is no mother of mine; she hath cheated me and taken my clothes and a thousand dinars.” Quoth Khatun, “And me also hath she swindled for she brought me to see the Shaykh Abu al-Hamlat and in lieu of so doing she hath stripped me.” Thereupon he, “I look to thee to make good my clothes and my thousand dinars;” and she, “I look to thee to make good my clothes and jewellery.” And, behold, at this moment in came the dyer and seeing them both stripped of their raiment, said to them, “Tell me where your mother is.” So the young lady related all that had befallen her and the young merchant related all that had betided him, and the Master-dyer exclaimed, “Alas, for the loss of my goods and those of the folk!”; and the ass-driver ejaculated, “Alas, for my ass! Give me, O dyer, my ass!” Then said the dyer, “This old woman is a sharper. Come forth, that I may lock the door.” Quoth the young merchant, “’Twere a disgrace to thee that we should enter thy house dressed and go forth from it undressed.” So the dyer clad him and the damsel and sent her back to her house where we shall find her after the return of her husband. Then he shut the dyery and said to the young merchant, “Come, let us go and search for the old woman and hand her over to the Wali,1 the Chief of Police.” So they and the ass-man repaired to the house of the master of police and made their complaint to him. Quoth he, “O folk, what want ye?” and when they told him he rejoined, “How many old women are there not in the town! Go ye and seek for her and lay hands on her and bring her to me, and I will torture her for you and make her confess.” So they sought for her all round the town; and an account of them will presently be given.2 As for old Dalilah the Wily, she said, “I have a mind to play off another trick,” to her daughter who answered, “O my mother, I fear for thee;” but the beldam cried, “I am like the bean husks which fall, proof against fire and water.” So she rose, and donning a slave-girl’s dress of such as serve people of condition, went out to look for some one to defraud. Presently she came to a by-street, spread with carpets and lighted with hanging lamps, and heard a noise of singing-women and drumming of tambourines. Here she saw a handmaid bearing on her shoulder a boy, clad in trousers laced with silver and a little Abá-cloak of velvet, with a pearl embroidered Tarbush-cap on his head, and about his neck a collar of gold set with jewels. Now the house belonged to the Provost of the Merchants of Baghdad, and the boy was his son. He had a virgin daughter, to boot, who was promised in marriage, and it was her betrothal they were celebrating that day. There was with her mother a company of noble dames and singing-women, and whenever she went upstairs or down, the boy clung to her. So she called the slave-girl and said to her, “Take thy young master and play with him, till the company break up.” Seeing this, Dalilah asked the handmaid, “What festivities are these in your mistress’s house;” and was answered “She celebrates her daughter’s betrothal this day, and she hath singing-women with her.” Quoth the old woman to herself, “O Dalilah, the thing to do is to spirit away this boy from the maid,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Burckhardt notes that the Wali, or chief police officer at Cairo, was exclusively termed Al–Aghá and quotes the proverb (No. 156) “One night the whore repented and cried:— What! no Wali (Al–Aghá) to lay whores by the heels?” Some of these Egyptian by-words are most amusing and characteristic; but they require literal translation, not the timid touch of the last generation. I am preparing, for the use of my friend, Bernard Quaritch, a bonâ fide version which awaits only the promised volume of Herr Landberg.
2 Lit. for “we leave them for the present”: the formula is much used in this tale, showing another hand, author or copyist.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old trot said to herself, “O Dalilah, the thing to do is to spirit away this boy from the maid!” she began crying out, “O disgrace! O ill luck!” Then pulling out a brass token, resembling a dinar, she said to the maid, who was a simpleton, “Take this ducat and go in to thy mistress and say to her, ‘Umm al-Khayr rejoiceth with thee and is beholden to thee for thy favours, and on the day of assembly she and her daughters will visit thee and handsel the tiring-women with the usual gifts.’” Said the girl, “O my mother, my young master here catcheth hold of his mamma, whenever he seeth her;” and she replied “Give him to me, whilst thou goest in and comest back.” So she gave her the child and taking the token, went in; whereupon Dalilah made off with the boy to a by-lane, where she stripped him of his clothes and jewels, saying to herself, “O Dalilah, ‘twould indeed be the finest of tricks, even as thou hast cheated the maid and taken the boy from her, so now to carry on the game and pawn him for a thousand dinars.” So she repaired to the jewel-bazar, where she saw a Jew goldsmith seated with a cage full of jewellery before him, and said to herself, “‘Twould be a rare trick to chouse this Jew fellow and get a thousand gold pieces worth of jewellery from him and leave the boy in pledge for it.” Presently the Jew looked at them and seeing the boy with the old woman, knew him for the son of the Provost of the Merchants. Now the Israelite was a man of great wealth, but would envy his neighbour if he sold and himself did not sell; so espying Dalilah, he said to her, “What seekest thou, O my mistress?” She asked, “Art thou Master Azariah1 the Jew?” having first enquired his name of others; and he answered, “Yes.” Quoth she, “This boy’s sister, daughter of the Shahbandar of the Merchants, is a promised bride, and to-day they celebrate her betrothal; and she hath need of jewellery. So give me two pair of gold ankle-rings, a brace of gold bracelets, and pearl ear-drops, with a girdle, a poignard and a seal-ring.” He brought them out and she took of him a thousand dinars’ worth of jewellery, saying, “I will take these ornaments on approval; and whatso pleaseth them, they will keep and I will bring thee the price and leave this boy with thee till then.” He said, “Be it as thou wilt!” So she took the jewellery and made off to her own house, where her daughter asked her how the trick had sped. She told her how she had taken and stripped the Shahbandar’s boy, and Zaynab said, “Thou wilt never be able to walk abroad again in the town.” Meanwhile, the maid went in to her mistress and said to her, “O my lady, Umm al-Khayr saluteth thee and rejoiceth with thee and on assembly-day she will come, she and her daughters, and give the customary presents.” Quoth her mistress, “Where is thy young master?” Quoth the slave-girl, “I left him with her lest he cling to thee, and she gave me this, as largesse for the singing-women.” So the lady said to the chief of the singers, “Take thy money;” and she took it and found it a brass counter; whereupon the lady cried to the maid, “Get thee down, O whore, and look to thy young master.” Accordingly, she went down and finding neither boy nor old woman, shrieked aloud and fell on her face. Their joy was changed into annoy, and behold, the Provost came in, when his wife told him all that had befallen and he went out in quest of the child, whilst the other merchants also fared forth and each sought his own road. Presently, the Shahbandar, who had looked every-where, espied his son seated, naked, in the Jew’s shop and said to tile owner, “This is my son.” “’Tis well,” answered the Jew. So he took him up, without asking for his clothes, of the excess of his joy at finding him; but the Jew laid hold of him, saying, “Allah succour the Caliph against thee!”2 The Provost asked, “What aileth thee, O Jew?”; and he answered, “Verily the old woman took of me a thousand dinars’ worth of jewellery for thy daughter, and left this lad in pledge for the price; and I had not trusted her, but that she offered to leave the child whom I knew for thy Son.” Said the Provost, “My daughter needeth no jewellery, give me the boy’s clothes.” Thereupon the Jew shrieked out, “Come to my aid, O Moslems!” but at that moment up came the dyer and the ass-man and the young merchant, who were going about, seeking the old woman, and enquired the cause of their jangle. So they told them the case and they said, “This old woman is a cheat, who hath cheated us before you.” Then they recounted to them how she had dealt with them, and the Provost said, “Since I have found my son, be his clothes his ransom! If I come upon the old woman, I will require them of her.” And he carried the child home to his mother, who rejoiced in his safety. Then the Jew said to the three others “Whither go ye?”; and they answered, “We go to look for her.” Quoth the Jew, “Take me with you,” presently adding, “Is there any one of you knoweth her?” The donkey-boy cried, “I know her;” and the Jew said, “If we all go forth together, we shall never catch her; for she will flee from us. Let each take a different road, and be our rendezvous at the shop of Hajj Mas’úd, the Moorish barber.” They agreed to this and set off, each in a different direction. Presently, Dalilah sallied forth again to play her tricks and the ass-driver met her and knew her. So he caught hold of her and said to her, “Woe to thee! Hast thou been long at this trade?” She asked, “What aileth thee?”; and he answered, “Give me back my ass.” Quoth she, “Cover what Allah covereth, O my son! Dost thou seek thine ass and the people’s things?” Quoth he, “I want my ass; that’s all;” and quoth she, “I saw that thou wast poor: so I deposited thine ass for thee with the Moorish barber. Stand off, whilst I speak him fair, that he may give thee the beast.” So she went up to the Maghrabi and kissed his hand and shed tears. He asked her what ailed her and she said, “O my son, look at my boy who standeth yonder. He was ill and exposed himself to the air, which injured his intellect. He used to buy asses and now, if he stand he saith nothing but, My ass! if he sit he crieth, My ass! and if he walk he crieth, My ass! Now I have been told by a certain physician that his mind is disordered and that nothing will cure him but drawing two of his grinders and cauterising him twice on either temple. So do thou take this dinar and call him to thee, saying, ‘Thine ass is with me.’” Said the barber, “May I fast for a year, if I do not give him his ass in his fist!” Now he had with him two journeymen, so he said to one of them “Go, heat the irons.” Then the old woman went her way and the barber called to the donkey-boy,3 saying, “Thine ass is with me, good fellow! come and take him, and as thou livest, I will give him into thy palm.” So he came to him and the barber carried him into a dark room, where he knocked him down and the journeymen bound him hand and foot. Then the Maghrabi arose and pulled out two of his grinders and fired him on either temple; after which he let him go, and he rose and said, “O Moor, why hast thou used me with this usage?” Quoth the barber, “Thy mother told me that thou hadst taken cold whilst ill, and hadst lost thy reason, so that, whether sitting or standing or walking, thou wouldst say nothing but My ass! So here is thine ass in thy fist.” Said the other, “Allah requite thee for pulling out my teeth.” Then the barber told him all that the old woman had related and he exclaimed, “Allah torment her!”; and the twain left the shop and went out, disputing. When the barber returned, he found his booth empty, for, whilst he was absent, the old woman had taken all that was therein and made off with it to her daughter, whom she acquainted with all that had befallen and all she had done. The barber, seeing his place plundered, caught hold of the donkey-boy and said to him, “Bring me thy mother” But he answered, saying, “She is not my mother; she is a sharper who hath cozened much people and stolen my ass.” And lo! at this moment up came the dyer and the Jew and the young merchant, and seeing the Moorish barber holding on to the ass-driver who was fired on both temples, they said to him, “What hath befallen thee, O donkey-boy?” So he told them all that had betided him and the barber did the like; and the others in turn related to the Moor the tricks the old woman had played them. Then he shut up his shop and went with them to the office of the Police-master to whom they said, “We look to thee for our case and our coin.”4 Quoth the Wali, “And how many old women are there not in Baghdad! Say me, doth any of you know her?” Quoth the ass-man, “I do; so give me ten of thine officers.” He gave them half a score archers and they all five went out, followed by the sergeants, and patrolled the city, till they met the old woman, when they laid hands on her and carrying her to the house of the Chief of Police, stood waiting under his office windows till he should come forth. Presently, the warders fell asleep, for excess of watching with their chief, and old Dalilah feigned to follow their example, till the ass-man and his fellows slept likewise, when she stole away from them and, going in to the Wali’s Harim, kissed the hand of the mistress of the house and asked her “Where is the Chief of Police?” The lady answered, “He is asleep; what wouldst thou with him?” Quoth Dalilah, “My husband is a merchant of chattels and gave me five Mamelukes to sell, whilst he went on a journey. The Master of Police met me and bought them of me for a thousand dinars and two hundred for myself, saying, ‘Bring them to my house.’ So I have brought them.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Uzrah.”
2 i.e. “Thou art unjust and violent enough to wrong even the Caliph!”
3 I may note that a “donkey-boy” like our “post-boy” can be of any age in Egypt.
4 They could legally demand to be recouped but the chief would have found some pretext to put off payment. Such at least is the legal process of these days.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman, entering the Harim of the Police–Master, said to his wife, “Verily the Wali bought of me five slaves for one thousand ducats and two hundred for myself, saying, ‘Bring them to my quarters.’ So I have brought them.” Hearing the old woman’s story she believed it and asked her, “Where are the slaves?” Dalilah replied, “O my lady, they are asleep under the palace window”; whereupon the dame looked out and seeing the Moorish barber clad in a Mameluke habit and the young merchant as he were a drunken Mameluke1 and the Jew and the dyer and the ass-driver as they were shaven Mamelukes, said in herself, “Each of these white slaves is worth more than a thousand dinars.” So she opened her chest and gave the old woman the thousand ducats, saying, “Fare thee forth now and come back anon; when my husband waketh, I will get thee the other two hundred dinars from him.” Answered the old woman, “O my lady, an hundred of them are thine, under the sherbert-gugglet whereof thou drinkest,2 and the other hundred do thou keep for me against I come back,” presently adding, “Now let me out by the private door.” So she let her out, and the Protector protected her and she made her way home to her daughter, to whom she related how she had gotten a thousand gold pieces and sold her five pursuers into slavery, ending with, “O my daughter, the one who troubleth me most is the ass-driver, for he knoweth me.” Said Zaynab, “O my mother, abide quiet awhile and let what thou hast done suffice thee, for the crock shall not always escape the shock.” When the Chief of Police awoke, his wife said to him, “I give thee joy of the five slaves thou hast bought of the old woman.” Asked he, “What slaves?” And she answered, “Why dost thou deny it to me? Allah willing, they shall become like thee people of condition.” Quoth he, “As my head liveth, I have bought no slaves! Who saith this?” Quoth she, “The old woman, the brokeress, from whom thou boughtest them; and thou didst promise her a thousand dinars for them and two hundred for herself.” Cried he, “Didst thou give her the money?” And she replied, “Yes; for I saw the slaves with my own eyes, and on each is a suit of clothes worth a thousand dinars; so I sent out to bid the sergeants have an eye to them.” The Wali went out and, seeing the five plaintiffs, said to the officers, “Where are the five slaves we bought for a thousand dinars of the old woman?” Said they, “There are no slaves here; only these five men, who found the old woman, and seized her and brought her hither. We fell asleep, whilst waiting for thee, and she stole away and entered the Harim. Presently out came a maid and asked us, ‘Are the five with you with whom the old woman came?’; and we answered, ‘Yes.’” Cried the Master of Police, “By Allah, this is the biggest of swindles!”; and the five men said, “We look to thee for our goods.” Quoth the Wali, “The old woman, your mistress, sold you to me for a thousand gold pieces.” Quoth they, “That were not allowed of Allah; we are free-born men and may not be sold, and we appeal from thee to the Caliph.” Rejoined the Master of Police, “None showed her the way to the house save you, and I will sell you to the galleys for two hundred dinars apiece.” Just then, behold, up came the Emir Hasan Sharr al-Tarik who, on his return from his journey, had found his wife stripped of her clothes and jewellery and heard from her all that had passed; whereupon quoth he, “The Master of Police shall answer me this” and repairing to him, said “Dost thou suffer old women to go round about the town and cozen folk of their goods? This is thy duty and I look to thee for my wife’s property.” Then said he to the five men, “What is the case with you?” So they told him their stories and he said, “Ye are wronged men,” and turning to the Master of Police, asked him, “Why dost thou arrest them?” Answered he, “None brought the old wretch to my house save these five, so that she took a thousand dinars of my money and sold them to my women.” Whereupon the five cried, “O Emir Hasan, be thou our advocate in this cause.” Then said the Master of Police to the Emir, “Thy wife’s goods are at my charge and I will be surety for the old woman. But which of you knoweth her?” They cried, “We all know her: send ten apparitors with us, and we will take her.” So he gave them ten men, and the ass-driver said to them, “Follow me, for I should know her with blue eyes.”3 Then they fared forth and lo! they meet old Dalilah coming out of a by-street: so they at once laid hands on her and brought her to the office of the Wali who asked her, “Where are the people’s goods?” But she answered, saying, “I have neither gotten them nor seen them.” Then he cried to the gaoler, “Take her with thee and clap her in gaol till the morning;” but he replied, “I will not take her nor will I imprison her lest she play a trick on me and I be answerable for her.” So the Master of Police mounted and rode out with Dalilah and the rest to the bank of the Tigris, where he bade the lamp-lighter crucify her by her hair. He drew her up by the pulley and bound her on the cross; after which the Master of Police set ten men to guard her and went home. Presently, the night fell down and sleep overcame the watchmen. Now a certain Badawi had heard one man say to a friend, “Praise be to Allah for thy safe return! Where hast thou been all this time?” Replied the other, “In Baghdad where I broke my fast on honey-fritters.”4 Quoth the Badawi to himself “Needs must I go to Baghdad and eat honey-fritters therein”; for in all his life he had never entered Baghdad nor seen fritters of the sort. So he mounted his stallion and rode on towards Baghdad, saying in his mind, “’Tis a fine thing to eat honey-fritters! On the honour of an Arab, I will break my fast with honey-fritters and naught else!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. drunk with the excess of his beauty.
2 A delicate way of offering a fee. When officers commanding regiments in India contracted for clothing the men, they found these douceurs under their dinner-napkins. All that is now changed; but I doubt the change being an improvement: the public is plundered by a “Board” instead of an individual.
3 This may mean, I should know her even were my eyes blue (or blind) with cataract and the Bresl. Edit. ix. 231, reads “Ayní”=my eye; or it may be, I should know her by her staring, glittering, hungry eyes, as opposed to the “Hawar” soft-black and languishing (Arab. Prov. i. 115, and ii. 848). The Prophet said “blue-eyed (women) are of good omen.” And when one man reproached another saying “Thou art Azrak” (blue-eyed!) he retorted, “So is the falcon!” “Zurk-an” in Kor. xx. 102, is translated by Mr. Rodwell “leaden eyes.” It ought to be blue-eyed, dim-sighted, purblind.
4 Arab, “Zalábiyah bi-‘Asal.”
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the wild Arab mounted horse and made for Baghdad saying in his mind, “’Tis a fine thing to eat honey-fritters! On the honour of an Arab I will break my fast with honey-fritters and naught else;” and he rode on till he came to the place where Dalilah was crucified and she heard him utter these words. So he went up to her and said to her, “What art thou?” Quoth she, “I throw myself on thy protection, O Shaykh of the Arabs!” and quoth lie, “Allah indeed protect thee! But what is the cause of thy crucifixion?” Said she, “I have an enemy, an oilman, who frieth fritters, and I stopped to buy some of him, when I chanced to spit and my spittle fell on the fritters. So he complained of me to the Governor who commanded to crucify me, saying, ‘I adjudge that ye take ten pounds of honey-fritters and feed her therewith upon the cross. If she eat them, let her go, but if not, leave her hanging.’ And my stomach will not brook sweet things.” Cried the Badawi, “By the honour of the Arabs, I departed not the camp but that I might taste of honey-fritters! I will eat them for thee.” Quoth she, “None may eat them, except he be hung up in my place.” So he fell into the trap and unbound her; whereupon she bound him in her stead, after she had stripped him of his clothes and turband and put them on; then covering herself with his burnouse and mounting his horse, she rode to her house, where Zaynab asked her, “What meaneth this plight?”; and she answered, “They crucified me;” and told her all that had befallen her with the Badawi. This is how it fared with her; but as regards the watchmen, the first who woke roused his companions and they saw that the day had broken. So one of them raised his eyes and cried, “Dalilah.” Replied the Badawi, “By Allah! I have not eaten all night. Have ye brought the honey-fritters?” All exclaimed, “This is a man and a Badawi, and one of them asked him, “O Badawi, where is Dalilah and who loosed her?” He answered, “’Twas I; she shall not eat the honey-fritters against her will; for her soul abhorreth them.” So they knew that the Arab was ignorant of her case, whom she had cozened, and said to one another, “Shall we flee or abide the accomplishment of that which Allah hath written for us?” As they were talking, up came the Chief of Police, with all the folk whom the old woman had cheated, and said to the guards, “Arise, loose Dalilah.” Quoth the Badawi, “We have not eaten to-night. Hast thou brought the honey-fritters?” Whereupon the Wali raised his eyes to the cross and seeing the Badawi hung up in the stead of the old woman, said to the watchmen, “What is this?” “Pardon, O our lord!” “Tell me what hath happened” “We were weary with watching with thee on guard and, ‘Dalilah is crucified.’ So we fell asleep, and when we awoke, we found the Badawi hung up in her room; and we are at thy mercy.” “O folk, Allah’s pardon be upon you! She is indeed a clever cheat!” Then they unbound the Badawi, who laid hold of the Master of Police, saying, “Allah succour the Caliph against thee! I look to none but thee for my horse and clothes!” So the Wali questioned him and he told him what had passed between Dalilah and himself. The magistrate marvelled and asked him, “Why didst thou release her?”; and the Badawi answered, “I knew not that she was a felon.” Then said the others, “O Chief of Police, we look to thee in the matter of our goods; for we delivered the old woman into thy hands and she was in thy guard; and we cite thee before the Divan of the Caliph.” Now the Emir Hasan had gone up to the Divan, when in came the Wali with the Badawi and the five others, saying, “Verily, we are wronged men!” “Who hath wronged you?” asked the Caliph; so each came forward in turn and told his story, after which said the Master of Police, “O Commander of the Faithful, the old woman cheated me also and sold me these five men as slaves for a thousand dinars, albeit they are free-born.” Quoth the Prince of True Believers, “I take upon myself all that you have lost”; adding to the Master of Police, “I charge thee with the old woman.” But he shook his collar, saying, “O Commander of the Faithful, I will not answer for her; for, after I had hung her on the cross, she tricked this Badawi and, when he loosed her, she tied him up in her room and made off with his clothes and horse.” Quoth the Caliph, “Whom but thee shall I charge with her?”; and quoth the Wali, “Charge Ahmad al-Danaf, for he hath a thousand dinars a month and one-and-forty followers, at a monthly wage of an hundred dinars each.” So the Caliph said, “Harkye, Captain Ahmad!” “At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful,” said he; and the Caliph cried, “I charge thee to bring the old woman before us.” Replied Ahmad, “I will answer for her.” Then the Caliph kept the Badawi and the five with him — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph said to Calamity Ahmad, “I charge thee to bring the old woman before us,” he said, “I will answer for her O Commander of the Faithful!” Then the Caliph kept the Badawi and the five with him, whilst Ahmad and his men went down to their hall,1 saying to one another, “How shall we lay hands on her, seeing that there are many old women in the town?” And quoth Ahmad to Hasan Shuman, “What counsellest thou?” Whereupon quoth one of them, by name Ali Kitf al-Jamal,2 to Al–Danaf, “Of what dost thou take counsel with Hasan Shuman? Is the Pestilent one any great shakes?” Said Hasan, “O Ali, why dost thou disparage me? By the Most Great Name, I will not company with thee at this time!”; and he rose and went out in wrath. Then said Ahmad, “O my braves, let every sergeant take ten men, each to his own quarter and search for Dalilah.” All did his bidding, Ali included, and they said, “Ere we disperse let us agree to rendezvous in the quarter Al–Kalkh.” It was noised abroad in the city that Calamity Ahmad had undertaken to lay hands on Dalilah the Wily, and Zaynab said to her, “O my mother, an thou be indeed a trickstress, do thou befool Ahmad al-Danaf and his company.” Answered Dalilah, “I fear none save Hasan Shuman;” and Zaynab said, “By the life of my browlock, I will assuredly get thee the clothes of all the one-and-forty.” Then she dressed and veiled herself and going to a certain druggist, who had a saloon with two doors, salamed to him and gave him an ashrafi and said to him, “Take this gold piece as a douceur for thy saloon and let it to me till the end of the day.” So he gave her the keys and she fetched carpets and so forth on the stolen ass and furnishing the place, set on each raised pavement a tray of meat and wine. Then she went out and stood at the door, with her face unveiled and behold, up came Ali Kitf al-Jamal and his men. She kissed his hand; and he fell in love with her, seeing her to be a handsome girl, and said to her, “What dost thou want?” Quoth she, “Art thou Captain Ahmad al-Danaf?”; and quoth he, “No, but I am of his company and my name is Ali Camel-shoulder.” Asked she, “Whither fare you?”; and he answered, “We go about in quest of a sharkish old woman, who hath stolen folk’s good, and we mean to lay hands on her. But who art thou and what is thy business?” She replied, “My father was a taverner at Mosul and he died and left me much money. So I came hither, for fear of the Dignities, and asked the people who would protect me, to which they replied, ‘None but Ahmad al-Danaf.’” Said the men, “From this day forth, thou art under his protection”; and she replied, “Hearten me by eating a bit and drinking a sup of water.”3 They consented and entering, ate and drank till they were drunken, when she drugged them with Bhang and stripped them of their clothes and arms; and on like wise she did with the three other companions. Presently, Calamity Ahmad went out to look for Dalilah, but found her not, neither set eyes on any of his followers, and went on till he came to the door where Zaynab was standing. She kissed his hand and he looked on her and fell in love with her. Quoth she, “Art thou Captain Ahmad al- Danaf?”; and quoth he, “Yes: who art thou?” She replied, “I am a stranger from Mosul. My father was a vintner at that place and he died and left me much money wherewith I came to this city, for fear of the powers that be, and opened this tavern. The Master of Police hath imposed a tax on me, but it is my desire to put myself under thy protection and pay thee what the police would take of me, for thou hast the better right to it.” Quoth he, “Do not pay him aught: thou shalt have my protection and welcome.” Then quoth she, “Please to heal my heart and eat of my victual,” So he entered and ate and drank wine, till he could not sit upright, when she drugged him and took his clothes and arms. Then she loaded her purchase on the Badawi’s horse and the donkey-boy’s ass and made off with it, after she had aroused Ali Kitf al-Jamal. Camel-shoulder awoke and found himself naked and saw Ahmad and his men drugged and stripped: so he revived them with the counter-drug and they awoke and found themselves naked. Quoth Calamity Ahmad, “O lads, what is this? We were going to catch her, and lo! this strumpet hath caught us! How Hasan Shuman will rejoice over us! But we will wait till it is dark and then go away.” Meanwhile Pestilence Hasan said to the hall-keeper, “Where are the men?”; and as he asked, up they came naked; and he recited these two couplets4,
“Men in their purposes are much alike,
But in their issues difference comes to light:
Of men some wise are, others simple souls;
As of the stars some dull, some pearly bright.
Then he looked at them and asked, “Who hath played you this trick and made you naked?”; and they answered, “We went in quest of an old woman, and a pretty girl stripped us.” Quoth Hasan, “She hath done right well.” They asked, “Dost thou know her?”; and he answered, “Yes, I know her and the old trot too.” Quoth they, “What shall we say to the Caliph?”; and quoth he, “O Danaf, do thou shake thy collar before him, and he will say, ‘Who is answerable for her’; and if he ask why thou hast not caught her; say thou, ‘We know her not; but charge Hasan Shuman with her.’ And if he give her into my charge, I will lay hands on her.” So they slept that night and on the morrow they went up to the Caliph’s Divan and kissed ground before him. Quoth he, “Where is the old woman, O Captain Ahmad?” But he shook his collar. The Caliph asked him why he did so, and he answered, “I know her not; but do thou charge Hasan Shuman to lay hands on her, for he knoweth her and her daughter also.” Then Hasan interceded for her with the Caliph, saying, “Indeed, she hath not played off these tricks, because she coveted the folk’s stuff, but to show her cleverness and that of her daughter, to the intent that thou shouldst continue her husband’s stipend to her and that of her father to her daughter. So an thou wilt spare her life I will fetch her to thee.” Cried the Caliph, “By the life of my ancestors, if she restore the people’s goods, I will pardon her on thine intercession!” And said the Pestilence, “Give me a pledge, O Prince of True Believers!” Whereupon Al–Rashid gave him the kerchief of pardon. So Hasan repaired to Dalilah’s house and called to her. Her daughter Zaynab answered him and he asked her, “Where is thy mother?” “Upstairs,” she answered; and he said, “Bid her take the people’s goods and come with me to the presence of the Caliph; for I have brought her the kerchief of pardon, and if she will not come with a good grace, let her blame only herself.” So Dalilah came down and tying the kerchief about her neck gave him the people’s goods on the donkey-boy’s ass and the Badawi’s horse. Quoth he, “There remain the clothes of my Chief and his men”; and quoth she, “By the Most Great Name, ’twas not I who stripped them!” Rejoined Hasan, “Thou sayst sooth, it was thy daughter Zaynab’s doing, and this was a good turn she did thee.” Then he carried her to the Divan and laying the people’s goods and stuff before the Caliph, set the old trot in his presence. As soon as he saw her, he bade throw her down on the carpet of blood, whereat she cried, “I cast myself on thy protection, O Shuman.”’ So he rose and kissing the Caliph’s hands, said, “Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful! Indeed, thou gavest me the kerchief of pardon.” Said the Prince of True Believers, “I pardon her for thy sake: come hither, O old woman; what is thy name?” “My name is Wily Dalilah,” answered she, and the Caliph said “Thou art indeed crafty and full of guile.” Whence she was dubbed Dalilah the Wily One. Then quoth he, “Why hast thou played all these tricks on the folk and wearied our hearts?” and quoth she, “I did it not of lust for their goods, but because I had heard of the tricks which Ahmad al-Danaf and Hasan Shuman played in Baghdad and said to myself, ‘I too will do the like.’ And now I have returned the folk their goods.” But the ass-driver rose and said “I invoke Allah’s law5 between me and her; for it sufficed her not to take my ass, but she must needs egg on the Moorish barber to tear out my eye-teeth and fire me on both temples.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ká‘ah,” their mess-room, barracks.
2 i.e. Camel shoulder-blade.
3 So in the Brazil you are invited to drink a copa d’agua and find a splendid banquet. There is a smack of Chinese ceremony in this practice which lingers throughout southern Europe; but the less advanced society is, the more it is fettered by ceremony and “etiquette.”
4 The Bresl. edit. (ix. 239) prefers these lines:—
Some of us be hawks and some sparrow-hawks,
And vultures some which at carrion pike;
And maidens deem all alike we be
But, save in our turbands, we’re not alike.
5 Arab. Shar a=holy law; here it especially applies to Al–Kisás=lex talionis, which would order her eye-tooth to be torn out.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the donkey-boy rose and cried out, “I invoke Allah’s law between me and her; for it sufficed her not to take my ass, but she must needs egg on the barber to tear out my eye-teeth and fire me on both temples;” thereupon the Caliph bade give him an hundred dinars and ordered the dyer the like, saying, “Go; set up thy dyery again.” So they called down blessings on his head and went away. The Badawi also took his clothes and horse and departed, saying, “’Tis henceforth unlawful and forbidden me to enter Baghdad and eat honey-fritters.” And the others took their goods and went away. Then said the Caliph, “Ask a boon of me, O Dalilah!”; and she said, “Verily, my father was governor of the carrier-pigeons to thee and I know how to rear the birds; and my husband was town-captain of Baghdad. Now I wish to have the reversion of my husband and my daughter wisheth to have that of her father.” The Caliph granted both their requests and she said, “I ask of thee that I may be portress of thy Khan.” Now he had built a Khan of three stories, for the merchants to lodge in, and had assigned to its service forty slaves and also forty dogs he had brought from the King of the Sulaymániyah,1 when he deposed him; and there was in the Khan a cook-slave, who cooked for the chattels and fed the hounds for which he let make collars. Said the Caliph, “O Dalilah, I will write thee a patent of guardianship of the Khan, and if aught be lost therefrom, thou shalt be answerable for it. “’Tis well,” replied she; “but do thou lodge my daughter in the pavilion over the door of the Khan, for it hath terraced roofs, and carrier-pigeons may not be reared to advantage save in an open space.” The Caliph granted her this also and she and her daughter removed to the pavilion in question, where Zaynab hung up the one-and-forty dresses of Calamity Ahmad and his company. Moreover, they delivered to Dalilah the forty pigeons which carried the royal messages, and the Caliph appointed the Wily One mistress over the forty slaves and charged them to obey her. She made the place of her sitting behind the door of the Khan, and every day she used to go up to the Caliph’s Divan, lest he should need to send a message by pigeon-post and stay there till eventide whilst the forty slaves stood on guard at the Khan; and when darkness came on they loosed the forty dogs that they might keep watch over the place by night. Such were the doings of Dalilah the Wily One in Baghdad and much like them were
1 i.e., of the Afghans. Sulaymáni is the Egypt and Hijazi term for an Afghan and the proverb says “Sulaymáni harámi”— the Afghan is a villainous man. See Pilgrimage i. 59, which gives them a better character. The Bresl. Edit. simply says, “King Sulaymán.”
Now as regards the works of Mercury ‘Alí; there lived once at Cairo,2 in the days of Saláh the Egyptian, who was Chief of the Cairo Police and had forty men under him, a sharper named Ali, for whom the Master of Police used to set snares and think that he had fallen therein; but, when they sought for him, they found that he had fled like zaybak, or quicksilver, wherefore they dubbed him Ali Zaybak or Mercury Ali of Cairo. Now one day, as he sat with his men in his hall, his heart became heavy within him and his breast was straitened. The hall-keeper saw him sitting with frowning face and said to him, “What aileth thee, O my Chief? If thy breast be straitened take a turn in the streets of Cairo, for assuredly walking in her markets will do away with thy irk.” So he rose up and went out and threaded the streets awhile, but only increased in cark and care. Presently, he came to a wine-shop and said to himself, “I will go in and drink myself drunken.” So he entered and seeing seven rows of people in the shop, said, “Harkye, taverner! I will not sit except by myself.” Accordingly, the vintner placed him in a chamber alone and set strong pure wine before him whereof he drank till he lost his senses. Then he sallied forth again and walked till he came to the road called Red, whilst the people left the street clear before him, out of fear of him. Presently, he turned and saw a water-carrier trudging along, with his skin and gugglet, crying out and saying, “O exchange! There is no drink but what raisins make, there is no love-delight but what of the lover we take and none sitteth in the place of honour save the sensible freke3!” So he said to him, “Here, give me to drink!” The water-carrier looked at him and gave him the gugglet which he took and gazing into it, shook it up and lastly poured it out on the ground. Asked the water-carrier, “Why dost thou not drink?”; and he answered, saying, “Give me to drink.” So the man filled the cup a second time and he took it and shook it and emptied it on the ground; and thus he did a third time. Quoth the water-carrier, “An thou wilt not drink, I will be off.” And Ali said, “Give me to drink.” So he filled the cup a fourth time and gave it to him; and he drank and gave the man a dinar. The water-carrier looked at him with disdain and said, belittling him, “Good luck to thee! Good luck to thee, my lad! Little folk are one thing and great folk another!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,
1 This is a sequel to the Story of Dalilah and both are highly relished by Arabs. The Bresl. Edit. ix. 245, runs both into one.
2 Arab. “Misr” (Masr), the Capital, says Savary, applied alternately to Memphis, Fostat and Grand Cairo each of which had a Jízah (pron. Gízah), skirt, angle, outlying suburb.
3 For the curious street-cries of old Cairo see Lane (M. E. chapt. xiv.) and my Pilgrimage (i. 120): here the rhymes are of Zabíb (raisins), habíb (lover) and labíb (man of sense).
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the water-carrier receiving the dinar, looked at the giver with disdain and said “Good luck to thee! Good luck to thee! Little folk are one thing and great folk another.” Now when Mercury Ali heard this, he caught hold of the man’s gaberdine and drawing on him a poignard of price, such an one as that whereof the poet speaketh in these two couplets,
“Watered steel-blade, the world perfection calls,
Drunk with the viper poison foes appals,
Cuts lively, burns the blood whene’er it falls;
And picks up gems from pave of marble halls;”1
cried to him, “O Shaykh, speak reasonably to me! Thy water-skin is worth if dear three dirhams, and the gugglets I emptied on the ground held a pint or so of water.” Replied the water-carrier “’Tis well,” and Ali rejoined, “I gave thee a golden ducat: why, then dost thou belittle me? Say me, hast thou ever seen any more valiant than I or more generous than I?” Answered the water-carrier; “I have indeed, seen one more valiant than thou and eke more generous than thou; for, never, since women bare children, was there on earth’s face a brave man who was not generous.” Quoth Ali, “And who is he thou deemest braver and more generous than I?” Quoth the other, “Thou must know that I have had a strange adventure. My father was a Shaykh of the Water-carriers who give drink in Cairo and, when he died, he left me five male camels, a he-mule, a shop and a house; but the poor man is never satisfied; or, if he be satisfied he dieth. So I said to myself, ‘I will go up to Al–Hijaz’; and, taking a string of camels, bought goods on tick, till I had run in debt for five hundred ducats, all of which I lost in the pilgrimage. Then I said in my mind, ‘If I return to Cairo the folk will clap me in jail for their goods.’ So I fared with the pilgrims-caravan of Damascus to Aleppo and thence I went on to Baghdad, where I sought out the Shaykh of the Water-carriers of the city and finding his house I went in and repeated the opening chapter of the Koran to him. He questioned me of my case and I told him all that had betided me, whereupon he assigned me a shop and gave me a water-skin and gear. So I sallied forth a-morn trusting in Allah to provide, and went round about the city. I offered the gugglet to one, that he might drink; but he cried, ‘I have eaten naught whereon to drink; for a niggard invited me this day and set two gugglets before me; so I said to him, ‘O son of the sordid, hast thou given me aught to eat that thou offerest me drink after it?’ Wherefore wend thy ways, O water-carrier, till I have eaten somewhat: then come and give me to drink.’ Thereupon I accosted another and he said, ‘Allah provide thee!’ And so I went on till noon, without taking hansel, and I said to myself, ‘Would Heaven I had never come to Baghdad!’ Presently, I saw the folk running as fast as they could; so I followed them and behold, a long file of men riding two and two and clad in steel, with double neck-rings and felt bonnets and burnouses and swords and bucklers. I asked one of the folk whose suite this was, and he answered, ‘That of Captain Ahmad al-Danaf.’ Quoth I, ‘And what is he?’ and quoth the other, ‘He is town-captain of Baghdad and her Divan, and to him is committed the care of the suburbs. He getteth a thousand dinars a month from the Caliph and Hasan Shuman hath the like. More-over, each of his men draweth an hundred dinars a month; and they are now returning to their barrack from the Divan.’ And lo! Calamity Ahmad saw me and cried out, ‘Come give me drink.’ So I filled the cup and gave it him, and he shook it and emptied it out, like unto thee; and thus he did a second time. Then I filled the cup a third time and he took a draught as thou diddest; after which he asked me, ‘O water-carrier, whence comest thou?’ And I answered, ‘From Cairo,’ and he, ‘Allah keep Cairo and her citizens! What may bring thee thither?’ So I told him my story and gave him to understand that I was a debtor fleeing from debt and distress. He cried, ‘Thou art welcome to Baghdad’; then he gave me five dinars and said to his men, ‘For the love of Allah be generous to him.’ So each of them gave me a dinar and Ahmad said to me, ‘O Shaykh, what while thou abidest in Baghdad thou shalt have of us the like every time thou givest us to drink.’ Accordingly, I paid them frequent visits and good ceased not to come to me from the folk till, one day, reckoning up the profit I had made of them, I found it a thousand dinars and said to myself, ‘The best thing thou canst do is to return to Egypt.’ So I went to Ahmad’s house and kissed his hand, and he said, ‘What seekest thou?’ Quoth I, ‘I have a mind to depart’; and I repeated these two couplets,
‘Sojourn of stranger, in whatever land,
Is like castle based upon the wind:
The breaths of breezes level all he raised.
And so on homeward-way’s the stranger’s mind.’
I added, ‘The caravan is about to start for Cairo and I wish to return to my people.’ So he gave me a she-mule and an hundred dinars and said to me, ‘I desire to send somewhat by thee, O Shaykh! Dost thou know the people of Cairo?’ ‘Yes,’ answered I”; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Mac. and Bul. Edits. give two silly couplets of moral advice:—
Strike with thy stubborn steel, and never fear
Aught save the Godhead of Allmighty Might;
And shun ill practices and never show
Through life but generous gifts to human sight.
The above is from the Bresl. Edit. ix. 247.
She pursued, It bath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ahmad al-Danaf had given the water-carrier a she-mule and an hundred dinars and said to him, “I desire to send a trust by thee. Dost thou know the people of Cairo?” “I answered (quoth the water-carrier), ‘Yes’; and he said, ‘Take this letter and carry it to Ali Zaybak of Cairo and say to him, ‘Thy Captain saluteth thee and he is now with the Caliph.’ So I took the letter and journeyed back to Cairo, where I paid my debts and plied my water-carrying trade; but I have not delivered the letter, because I know not the abode of Mercury Ali.” Quoth Ali, “O elder, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear: I am that Ali, the first of the lads of Captain Ahmad: here with the letter!” So he gave him the missive and he opened it and read these two couplets,
“O adornment of beauties to thee write I
On a paper that flies as the winds go by:
Could I fly, I had flown to their arms in desire,
But a bird with cut wings; how shall ever he fly?”
“But after salutation from Captain Ahmad al-Danaf to the eldest of his sons, Mercury Ali of Cairo. Thou knowest that I tormented Salah al-Din the Cairene and befooled him till I buried him alive and reduced his lads to obey me, and amongst them Ali Kitf al-Jamal; and I am now become town-captain of Baghdad in the Divan of the Caliph who hath made me over-seer of the suburbs. An thou be still mindful of our covenant, come to me; haply thou shalt play some trick in Baghdad which may promote thee to the Caliph’s service, so he may appoint thee stipends and allowances and assign thee a lodging, which is what thou wouldst see and so peace be on thee.” When Ali read this letter, he kissed it and laying it on his head, gave the water-carrier ten dinars; after which he returned to his barracks and told his comrades and said to them, “I commend you one to other.” Then he changed all his clothes and, donning a travelling cloak and a tarboosh, took a case, containing a spear of bamboo-cane, four-and-twenty cubits long, made in several pieces, to fit into one another. Quoth his lieutenant, “Wilt thou go a journey when the treasury is empty?”; and quoth Ali, “When I reach Damascus I will send you what shall suffice you.” Then he set out and fared on, till he overtook a caravan about to start, whereof were the Shah-bandar, or Provost of the Merchants, and forty other traders. They had all loaded their beasts, except the Provost, whose loads lay upon the ground, and Ali heard his caravan-leader, who was a Syrian, say to the muleteers, “Bear a hand, one of you!” But they reviled him and abused him. Quoth Ali in himself, “None will suit me so well to travel withal as this leader.” Now Ali was beardless and well-favoured; so he went up to and saluted the leader who welcomed him and said, “What seekest thou?” Replied Ali, “O my uncle, I see thee alone with forty mule-loads of goods; but why hast thou not brought hands to help thee?” Rejoined the other, “O my son, I hired two lads and clothed them and put in each one’s pocket two hundred dinars; and they helped me till we came to the Dervishes’ Convent,1 when they ran away.” Quoth Ali, “Whither are you bound?” and quoth the Syrian, “to Aleppo,” when Ali said, “I will lend thee a hand.” Accordingly they loaded the beasts and the Provost mounted his she-mule and they set out he rejoicing in Ali; and presently he loved him and made much of him and on this wise they fared on till nightfall, when they dismounted and ate and drank. Then came the time of sleep and Ali lay down on his side and made as if he slept; whereupon the Syrian stretched himself near him and Ali rose from his stead and sat down at the door of the merchant’s pavilion. Presently the Syrian turned over and would have taken Ali in his arms, but found him not and said to himself, “Haply he hath promised another and he hath taken him; but I have the first right and another night I will keep him.” Now Ali continued sitting at the door of the tent till nigh upon daybreak, when he returned and lay down near the Syrian, who found him by his side, when he awoke, and said to himself, “If I ask him where he hath been, he will leave me and go away.” So he dissembled with him and they went on till they came to a forest, in which was a cave, where dwelt a rending lion. Now whenever a caravan passed, they would draw lots among themselves and him on whom the lot fell they would throw to the beast. So they drew lots and the lot fell not save upon the Provost of the Merchants. And lo! the lion cut off their way awaiting his prey, wherefore the Provost was sore distressed and said to the leader, “Allah disappoint the fortunes2 of the far one and bring his journey to naught! I charge thee, after my death, give my loads to my children.” Quoth Ali the Clever One, “What meaneth all this?” So they told him the case and he said, “Why do ye run from the tom-cat of the desert? I warrant you I will kill him.” So the Syrian went to the Provost and told him of this and he said, “If he slay him, I will give him a thousand dinars,” and said the other merchants, “We will reward him likewise one and all.” With this Ali put off his mantle and there appeared upon him a suit of steel; then he took a chopper of steel3 and opening it turned the screw; after which he went forth alone and standing in the road before the lion, cried out to him. The lion ran at him, but Ali of Cairo smote him between the eyes with his chopper and cut him in sunder, whilst the caravan-leader and the merchants looked on. Then said he to the leader, “Have no fear, O nuncle!” and the Syrian answered, saying, “O my son, I am thy servant for all future time.” Then the Provost embraced him and kissed him between the eyes and gave him the thousand dinars, and each of the other merchants gave him twenty dinars. He deposited all the coin with the Provost and they slept that night till the morning, when they set out again, intending for Baghdad, and fared on till they came to the Lion’s Clump and the Wady of Dogs, where lay a villain Badawi, a brigand and his tribe, who sallied forth on them. The folk fled from the highwaymen, and the Provost said, “My monies are lost!”; when, lo! up came Ali in a buff coat hung with bells, and bringing out his long lance, fitted the pieces together. Then he seized one of the Arab’s horses and mounting it cried out to the Badawi Chief, saying, “Come out to fight me with spears!” Moreover he shook his bells and the Arab’s mare took fright at the noise and Ali struck the Chief’s spear and broke it. Then he smote him on the neck and cut off his head.4 When the Badawin saw their chief fall, they ran at Ali, but he cried out, saying, “Allaho Akbar — God is Most Great!”— and, falling on them broke them and put them to flight. Then he raised the Chief’s head on his spear-point and returned to the merchants, who rewarded him liberally and continued their journey, till they reached Baghdad. Thereupon Ali took his money from the Provost and committed it to the Syrian caravan-leader, saying, “When thou returnest to Cairo, ask for my barracks and give these monies to my deputy.” Then he slept that night and on the morrow he entered the city and threading the streets enquired for Calamity Ahmad’s quarters; but none would direct him thereto.5 So he walked on, till he came to the square Al–Nafz, where he saw children at play, and amongst them a lad called Ahmad al-Lakít,6 and said to himself, “O my Ali, thou shalt not get news of them but from their little ones.” Then he turned and seeing a sweet-meat-seller bought Halwá of him and called to the children; but Ahmad al-Lakit drove the rest away and coming up to him, said, “What seekest thou?” Quoth Ali, “I had a son and he died and I saw him in a dream asking for sweetmeats: wherefore I have bought them and wish to give each child a bit.” So saying, he gave Ahmad a slice, and he looked at it and seeing a dinar sticking to it, said “Begone! I am no catamite: seek another than I.” Quoth Ali, “O my son, none but a sharp fellow taketh the hire, even as he is a sharp one who giveth it. I have sought all day for Ahmad al-Danaf’s barrack, but none would direct me thereto; so this dinar is thine an thou wilt guide me thither.” Quoth the lad, “I will run before thee and do thou keep up with me, till I come to the place, when I will catch up a pebble with my foot7 and kick it against the door; and so shalt thou know it.” Accordingly he ran on and Ali after him, till they came to the place, when the boy caught up a pebble between his toes and kicked it against the door so as to make the place known. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al–Khanakah” now more usually termed a Takíyah. (Pilgrim. i. 124.)
2 Arab. “Ka’b al-ba’íd” (Bresl. Edit. ix. 255)=heel or ankle, metaph. for fortune, reputation: so the Arabs say the “Ka’b of the tribe is gone!” here “the far one”=the caravan-leader.
3 Arab. “Sharít,” from Sharata=he Scarified; “Mishrat”=a lancet and “Sharítah”=a mason’s rule. Mr. Payne renders “Sharít” by whinyard: it must be a chopper-like weapon, with a pin or screw (laulab) to keep the blade open like the snap of the Spaniard’s cuchillo. Dozy explains it=epée, synonyme de Sayf.
4 Text “Dimágh,” a Persianism when used for the head: the word properly means brain or meninx.
5 They were afraid even to stand and answer this remarkable ruffian.
6 Ahmad the Abortion, or the Foundling, nephew (sister’s son) of Zaynab the Coneycatcher. See supra, p. 145.
7 Here the sharp lad discovers the direction without pointing it out. I need hardly enlarge upon the prehensile powers of the Eastern foot: the tailor will hold his cloth between his toes and pick up his needle with it, whilst the woman can knead every muscle and at times catch a mosquito between the toes. I knew an officer in India whose mistress hurt his feelings by so doing at a critical time when he attributed her movement to pleasure.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ahmad the Abortion had made known the place, Ali laid hold of him and would have taken the dinar from him, but could not; so he said to him, “Go: thou deservest largesse for thou art a sharp fellow, whole of wit and stout of heart. Inshallah, if I become a captain to the Caliph, I will make thee one of my lads.” Then the boy made off and Ali Zaybak went up to the door and knocked; whereupon quoth Ahmad al-Danaf, “O doorkeeper, open the door; that is the knock of Quicksilver Ali the Cairene.” So he opened the door and Ali entered and saluted with the salam Ahmad who embraced him, and the Forty greeted him. Then Calamity Ahmad gave him a suit of clothes, saying, “When the Caliph made me captain, he clothed my lads and I kept this suit1 for thee.” Then they seated him in the place of honour and setting on meat they ate well and drink they drank hard and made merry till the morning, when Ahmad said to Ali, “Beware thou walk not about the streets of Baghdad, but sit thee still in this barrack.” Asked Ali, “Why so? Have I come hither to be shut up? No, I came to look about me and divert myself.” Replied Ahmad, “O my son, think not that Baghdad be like Cairo. Baghdad is the seat of the Caliphate; sharpers abound therein and rogueries spring therefrom as worts spring out of earth.” So Ali abode in the barrack three days when Ahmad said to him, “I wish to present thee to the Caliph, that he may assign thee an allowance.” But he replied, “When the time cometh.” So he let him go his own way. One day, as Ali sat in the barrack, his breast became straitened and his soul troubled and he said in himself, “Come, let us up and thread the ways of Baghdad and broaden my bosom.” So he went out and walked from street to street, till he came to the middle bazar, where he entered a cook-shop and dined;2 after which he went out to wash his hands. Presently he saw forty slaves, with felt bonnets and steel cutlasses, come walking, two by two; and last of all came Dalilah the Wily, mounted on a she-mule, with a gilded helmet which bore a ball of polished steel, and clad in a coat of mail, and such like. Now she was returning from the Divan to the Khan of which she was portress; and when she espied Ali, she looked at him fixedly and saw that he resembled Calamity Ahmad in height and breadth. Moreover, he was clad in a striped Abá-cloak and a burnous, with a steel cutlass by his side and similar gear, while valour shone from his eyes, testifying in favour of him and not in disfavour of him. So she returned to the Khan and going in to her daughter, fetched a table of sand, and struck a geomantic figure, whereby she discovered that the stranger’s name was Ali of Cairo and that his fortune overcame her fortune and that of her daughter. Asked Zaynab, “O my mother, what hath befallen thee that thou hast recourse to the sand-table?” Answered Dalilah, “O my daughter, I have seen this day a young man who resembleth Calamity Ahmad, and I fear lest he come to hear how thou didst strip Ahmad and his men and enter the Khan and play us a trick, in revenge for what we did with his chief and the forty; for methinks he has taken up his lodging in Al-Danaf’s barrack.” Zaynab rejoined, “What is this? Methinks thou hast taken his measure.” Then she donned her fine clothes and went out into the streets. When the people saw her, they all made love to her and she promised and sware and listened and coquetted and passed from market to market, till she saw Ali the Cairene coming, when she went up to him and rubbed her shoulder against him. Then she turned and said “Allah give long life to folk of discrimination!” Quoth he, “How goodly is thy form! To whom dost thou belong?”; and quoth she, “To the gallant3 like thee;” and he said, “Art thou wife or spinster?” “Married,” said she. Asked Ali, “Shall it be in my lodging or thine?4 and she answered, “I am a merchant’s daughter and a merchant’s wife and in all my life I have never been out of doors till to-day, and my only reason was that when I made ready food and thought to eat, I had no mind thereto without company. When I saw thee, love of thee entered my heart: so wilt thou deign solace my soul and eat a mouthful with me?” Quoth he, “Whoso is invited, let him accept.” Thereupon she went on and he followed her from street to street, but presently he bethought himself and said, “What wilt thou do and thou a stranger? Verily ’tis said, ‘Whoso doth whoredom in his strangerhood, Allah will send him back disappointed.’ But I will put her off from thee with fair words.” So he said to her, “Take this dinar and appoint me a day other than this;” and she said, “By the Mighty Name, it may not be but thou shalt go home with me as my guest this very day and I will take thee to fast friend.” So he followed her till she came to a house with a lofty porch and a wooden bolt on the door and said to him, “Open this lock.”5 Asked he “Where is the key?”; and she answered, “’Tis lost.” Quoth he, “Whoso openeth a lock without a key is a knave whom it behoveth the ruler to punish, and I know not how to open doors without keys?”6 With this she raised her veil and showed him her face, whereat he took one glance of eyes that cost him a thousand sighs. Then she let fall her veil on the lock and repeating over it the names of the mother of Moses, opened it without a key and entered. He followed her and saw swords and steel-weapons hanging up; and she put off her veil and sat down with him. Quoth he to himself, “Accomplish what Allah bath decreed to thee,” and bent over her, to take a kiss of her cheek; but she caught the kiss upon her palm, saying, “This beseemeth not but by night.” Then she brought a tray of food and wine, and they ate and drank; after which she rose and drawing water from the well, poured it from the ewer over his hands, whilst he washed them. Now whilst they were on this wise, she cried out and beat upon her breast, saying, “My husband had a signet-ring of ruby, which was pledged to him for five hundred dinars, and I put it on; but ’twas too large for me, so I straitened it with wax, and when I let down the bucket,7 that ring must have dropped into the well. So turn thy face to the door, the while I doff my dress and go down into the well and fetch it.” Quoth Ali, “’Twere shame on me that thou shouldst go down there I being present; none shall do it save I.” So he put off his clothes and tied the rope about himself and she let him down into the well. Now there was much water therein and she said to him, “The rope is too short; loose thyself and drop down.” So he did himself loose from the rope and dropped into the water, in which he sank fathoms deep without touching bottom; whilst she donned her mantilla and taking his clothes, returned to her mother — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Hullah”=dress. In old days it was composed of the Burd or Ridá, the shoulder-cloth from 6 to 9 or 10 feet long, and the Izár or waistcloth which was either tied or tucked into a girdle of leather or metal. The woman’s waistcloth was called Nitáh and descended to the feet while the upper part was doubled and provided with a Tikkah or string over which it fell to the knees, overhanging the lower folds. This doubling of the “Hujrah,” or part round the waist, was called the “Hubkah.”
2 Arab. “Taghaddá,” the dinner being at eleven a.m. or noon.
3 Arab. Ghandúr for which the Dictionaries give only “fat, thick.” It applies in Arabia especially to a Harámi, brigand or freebooter, most honourable of professions, slain in foray or fray, opposed to “Fatís” or carrion (the corps crévé of the Klephts), the man who dies the straw-death. Pilgrimage iii. 66.
4 My fair readers will note with surprise how such matters are hurried in the East. The picture is, however, true to life in lands where “flirtation” is utterly unknown and, indeed, impossible.
5 Arab. “Zabbah,” the wooden bolt (before noticed) which forms the lock and is opened by a slider and pins. It is illustrated by Lane (M. E. Introduction).
6 i.e. I am not a petty thief.
7 Arab. Satl=kettle, bucket. Lat. Situla (?).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ali of Cairo was in the well, Zaynab donned her mantilla and, taking his clothes, returned to her mother and said, “I have stripped Ali the Egyptian and cast him into the Emir Hasan’s well, whence alas for his chance of escaping!”1 Presently, the Emir Hasan, the master of the house, who had been absent at the Divan, came home and, finding the door open, said to his Syce, “Why didst thou not draw the bolt?” “O my lord,” replied the groom, “indeed I locked it with my own hand.” The Emir cried, “As my head liveth, some robber hath entered my house!” Then he went in and searched, but found none and said to the groom, “Fill the ewer, that I may make the Wuzu-ablution.” So the man lowered the bucket into the well but, when he drew it up, he found it heavy and looking down, saw something therein sitting; whereupon he let it fall into the water and cried out, saying, “O my lord, an Ifrit came up to me out of the well!” Replied the Emir, “Go and fetch four doctors of the law, that they may read the Koran over him, till he go away.” So he fetched the doctors and the Emir said to them, “Sit round this well and exorcise me this Ifrit.” They did as he bade them; after which the groom and another servant lowered the bucket again and Ali clung to it and hid himself under it patiently till he came near the top, when he sprang out and landed among the doctors, who fell a-cuffing one another and crying out, “Ifrit! Ifrit!” The Emir looked at Ali and seeing him a young man, said to him, “Art thou a thief?” “No,” replied Ali; “Then what dost thou in the well?” asked the Emir; and Ali answered, “I was asleep and dreamt a wet dream;2 so I went down to the Tigris to wash myself and dived, whereupon the current carried me under the earth and I came up in this well.” Quoth the other, “Tell the truth.”3 So Ali told him all that had befallen him, and the Emir gave him an old gown and let him go. He returned to Calamity Ahmad’s lodging and related to him all that had passed. Quoth Ahmad, “Did I not warn thee that Baghdad is full of women who play tricks upon men?” And quoth Ali Kitf al-Jamal, “I conjure thee by the Mighty Name, tell me how it is that thou art the chief of the lads of Cairo and yet hast been stripped by a girl?” This was grievous to Ali and he repented him of not having followed Ahmad’s advice. Then the Calamity gave him another suit of clothes and Hasan Shuman said to him, “Dost thou know the young person?” “No,” replied Ali; and Hasan rejoined, “’Twas Zaynab, the daughter of Dalilah the Wily, the portress of the Caliph’s Khan; and hast thou fallen into her toils, O Ali?” Quoth he, “Yes,” and quoth Hasan, “O Ali, ’twas she who took thy Chief’s clothes and those of all his men.” “This is a disgrace to you all!” “And what thinkest thou to do?” “I purpose to marry her.” “Put away that thought far from thee, and console thy heart of her.” “O Hasan, do thou counsel me how I shall do to marry her.” “With all my heart: if thou wilt drink from my hand and march under my banner, I will bring thee to thy will of her.” “I will well.” So Hasan made Ali put off his clothes; and, taking a cauldron heated therein somewhat as it were pitch, wherewith he anointed him and he became like unto a blackamoor slave. Moreover, he smeared his lips and cheeks and pencilled his eyes with red Kohl.4 Then he clad him in a slave’s habit and giving him a tray of kabobs and wine, said to him, “There is a black cook in the Khan who requires from the bazar only meat; and thou art now become his like; so go thou to him civilly and accost him in friendly fashion and speak to him in the blacks’ lingo, and salute him, saying, ‘’Tis long since we met in the beer-ken.’ He will answer thee, ‘I have been too busy: on my hands be forty slaves, for whom I cook dinner and supper, besides making ready a tray for Dalilah and the like for her daughter Zaynab and the dogs’ food.’ And do thou say to him, ‘Come, let us eat kabobs and lush swipes.’5 Then go with him into the saloon and make him drunken and question him of his service, how many dishes and what dishes he hath to cook, and ask him of the dogs’ food and the keys of the kitchen and the larder; and he will tell thee; for a man, when he is drunken, telleth all he would conceal were he sober. When thou hast done this drug him and don his clothes and sticking the two knives in thy girdle, take the vegetable-basket and go to the market and buy meat and greens, with which do thou return to the Khan and enter the kitchen and the larder and cook the food. Dish it up and put Bhang in it, so as to drug the dogs and the slaves and Dalilah and Zaynab and lastly serve up. When all are asleep, hie thee to the upper chamber and bring away every suit of clothes thou wilt find hanging there. And if thou have a mind to marry Zaynab, bring with thee also the forty carrier-pigeons.” So Ali went to the Khan and going in to the cook, saluted him and said, “’Tis long since I have met thee in the beer-ken.” The slave replied, “I have been busy cooking for the slaves and the dogs.” Then he took him and making him drunken, questioned him of his work. Quoth the kitchener, “Every day I cook five dishes for dinner and the like for supper; and yesterday they sought of me a sixth dish,6 yellow rice, 7 and a seventh, a mess of cooked pomegranate seed.” Ali asked, “And what is the order of thy service?” and the slave answered, “First I serve up Zaynab’s tray, next Dalilah’s; then I feed the slaves and give the dogs their sufficiency of meat, and the least that satisfies them is a pound each.” But, as fate would have it, he forgot to ask him of the keys. Then he drugged him and donned his clothes; after which he took the basket and went to the market. There he bought meat and greens. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. “there is no chance of his escaping.” It may also mean, “And far from him (Hayhát) is escape.”
2 Arab. “Ihtilám” the sign of puberty in boy or girl; this, like all emissions of semen, voluntary or involuntary, requires the Ghuzl or total ablution before prayers can be said, etc. See vol. v. 199, in the Tale of Tawaddud.
3 This is the way to take an Eastern when he tells a deliberate lie; and it often surprises him into speaking the truth.
4 The conjunctiva in Africans is seldom white; often it is red and more frequently yellow.
5 So in the texts, possibly a clerical error for the wine which he had brought with the kabobs. But beer is the especial tipple of African slaves in Egypt.
6 Arab. “Laun”, prop.=color, hue; but applied to species and genus, our “kind”; and especially to dishes which differ in appearance; whilst in Egypt it means any dish.
7 Arab. “Zardah”=rice dressed with honey and saffron. Vol. ii. 313. The word is still common in Turkey.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ali of Cairo, after drugging the cook-slave with Bhang, took the two knives which he stuck in his belt and, carrying the vegetable-basket, went to the market where he bought meat and greens; and, presently returning to the Khan, he saw Dalilah seated at the gate, watching those who went in and came out, and the forty slaves with her, armed. So he heartened his heart and entered; but Dalilah knew him and said to him, “Back, O captain of thieves! Wilt thou play a trick on me in the Khan?” Thereupon he (dressed as a slave) turned and said to her, “What sayest thou, O portress?” She asked, “What hast thou done with the slave, our cook?; say me if thou hast killed or drugged him?” He answered, “What cook? Is there here another slave-cook than I?” She rejoined, “Thou liest, thou art Mercury Ali the Cairene.” And he said to her, in slaves’ patois, “O portress, are the Cairenes black or white? I will slave for you no longer.” Then said the slaves to him, “What is the matter with thee, O our cousin?” Cried Dalilah, “This is none of your uncle’s children, but Ali Zaybak the Egyptian; and meseems he hath either drugged your cousin or killed him.” But they said, “Indeed this is our cousin Sa’adu’llah the cook;” and she, “Not so, ’tis Mercury Ali, and he hath dyed his skin.” Quoth the sharper, “And who is Ali? I am Sa’adu’llah.” Then she fetched unguent of proof, with which she anointed Ali’s forearm and rubbed it; but the black did not come off; whereupon quoth the slaves “Let him go and dress us our dinner.” Quoth Dalilah, “If he be indeed your cousin, he knoweth what you sought of him yesternight1 and how many dishes he cooketh every day.” So they asked him of this and he said, “Every day I cook you five dishes for the morning and the like for the evening meal, lentils and rice and broth and stew2 and sherbet of roses; and yesternight ye sought of me a sixth dish and a seventh, to wit yellow rice and cooked pomegranate seed.” And the slaves said “Right!” Then quoth Dalilah, “In with him and if he know the kitchen and the larder, he is indeed your cousin; but, if not, kill him.” Now the cook had a cat which he had brought up, and whenever he entered the kitchen it would stand at the door and spring to his back, as soon as he went in. So, when Ali entered, the cat saw him and jumped on his shoulders; but he threw it off and it ran before him to the door of the kitchen and stopped there. He guessed that this was the kitchen door; so he took the keys and seeing one with traces of feathers thereon, knew it for the kitchen key and therewith opened the door. Then he entered and setting down the greens, went out again, led by the cat, which ran before him and stopped at another door. He guessed that this was the larder and seeing one of the keys marked with grease, knew it for the key and opened the door therewith; where-upon quoth the slaves, “O Dalilah, were he a stranger, he had not known the kitchen and the larder, nor had he been able to distinguish the keys thereof from the rest; verily, he is our cousin Sa’adu’llah.” Quoth she, “He learned the places from the cat and distinguished the keys one from the other by the appearance: but this cleverness imposeth not upon me.” Then he returned to the kitchen where he cooked the dinner and, carrying Zaynab’s tray up to her room, saw all the stolen clothes hanging up; after which he went down and took Dalilah her tray and gave the slaves and the dogs their rations. The like he did at sundown and drugged Dalilah’s food and that of Zaynab and the slaves. Now the doors of the Khan were opened and shut with the sun. So Ali went forth and cried out, saying, “O dwellers in the Khan, the watch is set and we have loosed the dogs; whoso stirreth out after this can blame none save himself.” But he had delayed the dogs’ supper and put poison therein; consequently when he set it before them, they ate of it and died while the slaves and Dalilah and Zaynab still slept under Bhang. Then he went up and took all the clothes and the carrier-pigeons and, opening the gate made off to the barrack of the Forty, where he found Hasan Shuman the Pestilence who said to him, “How hast thou fared?” Thereupon he told him what had passed and he praised him. Then he caused him to put off his clothes and boiled a decoction of herbs wherewith he washed him, and his skin became white as it was; after which he donned his own dress and going back to the Khan, clad the cook in the habit he had taken from him and made him smell to the counter-drug; upon which the slave awoke and going forth to the greengrocer’s, bought vegetables and returned to the Khan. Such was the case with Al–Zaybak of Cairo; but as regards Dalilah the Wily, when the day broke, one of the lodgers in the Khan came out of his chamber and, seeing the gate open and the slaves drugged and the dogs dead, he went in to her and found her lying drugged, with a scroll on her neck and at her head a sponge steeped in the counter-drug. He set the sponge to her nostrils and she awoke and asked, “Where am I?” The merchant answered, “When I came down from my chamber I saw the gate of the Khan open and the dogs dead and found the slaves and thee drugged.” So she took up the paper and read therein these words, “None did this deed save Ali the Egyptian.” Then she awoke the slaves and Zaynab by making them smell the counter-Bhang and said to them, “Did I not tell you that this was Ali of Cairo?”; presently adding to the slaves, “But do ye conceal the matter.” Then she said to her daughter, “How often have I warned thee that Ali would not forego his revenge? He hath done this deed in requital of that which thou diddest with him and he had it in his power to do with thee other than this thing; but he refrained therefrom out of courtesy and a desire that there should be love and friendship between us.” So saying, she doffed her man’s gear and donned woman’s attire3 and, tying the kerchief of peace about her neck, repaired to Ahmad al-Danaf’s barrack. Now when Ali entered with the clothes and the carrier-pigeons, Hasan Shuman gave the hall-keeper the price of forty pigeons and he bought them and cooked them amongst the men. Presently there came a knock at the door and Ahmad said, “That is Dalilah’s knock: rise and open to her, O hall-keeper.” So he admitted her and — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Laylat Arms,” the night of yesterday (Al-bárihah) not our “last night” which would be the night of the day spoken of.
2 Arab. “Yakhní,” a word much used in Persia and India and properly applied to the complicated broth prepared for the rice and meat. For a good recipe see Herklots, Appendix xxix.
3 In token of defeat and in acknowledgment that she was no match for men.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Dalilah was admitted, Hasan asked her, “What bringeth thee hither, O ill-omened old woman? Verily, thou and thy brother Zurayk the fishmonger are of a piece!”; and she answered, “O captain I am in the wrong and this my neck is at thy mercy; but tell me which of you it was that played me this trick?” Quoth Calamity Ahmad, “’Twas the first of my lads.” Rejoined Dalilah, “For the sake of Allah intercede with him to give me back the carrier-pigeons and what not, and thou wilt lay me under great obligation.” When Hasan heard this he said, “Allah requite thee, O Ali! Why didst thou cook the pigeons?”; and Ali answered, “I knew not that they were carrier-pigeons.” Then said Ahmad, “O hall-keeper bring us the cooked pigeons.” So he brought them and Dalilah took a piece and tasting it, said, “This is none of the carrier- pigeons’ flesh, for I fed them on grains of musk and their meat is become even as musk.” Quoth Shuman, “An thou desire to have the carrier-pigeons, comply with Ali’s will.” Asked she “What is that?” And Hasan answered, “He would have thee marry him to thy daughter Zaynab.” She said, “I have not command over her except of affection”; and Hasan said to Ali the Cairene “Give her the pigeons.” So he gave them to her, and she took them and rejoiced in them. Then quoth Hasan to her, “There is no help but thou return us a sufficient reply”; and Dalilah rejoined, “If it be indeed his wish to marry her, it availed nothing to play this clever trick upon us: it behoveth him rather to demand her in marriage of her mother’s brother and her guardian, Captain Zurayk, him who crieth out, saying, ‘Ho! a pound of fish for two farthings!’ and who hangeth up in his shop a purse containing two thousand dinars.” When the Forty heard this, they all rose and cried out, saying, “What manner of blather is this, O harlot? Dost thou wish to bereave us of our brother Ali of Cairo?” Then she returned to the Khan and said to her daughter, “Ali the Egyptian seeketh thee in marriage.” Whereat Zaynab rejoiced, for she loved him because of his chaste forbearance towards her,1 and asked her mother what had passed. So she told her, adding, “I made it a condition that he should demand thy hand of thine uncle, so I might make him fall into destruction.” Meanwhile Ali turned to his fellows and asked them, “What manner of man is this Zurayk?”; and they answered, “He was chief of the sharpers of Al–Irak land and could all but pierce mountains and lay hold upon the stars. He would steal the Kohl from the eye and, in brief, he had not his match for roguery; but he hath repented his sins and foresworn his old way of life and opened him a fishmonger’s shop. And now he hath amassed two thousand dinars by the sale of fish and laid them in a purse with strings of silk, to which he hath tied bells and rings and rattles of brass, hung on a peg within the doorway. Every time he openeth his shop he suspendeth the said purse and crieth out, saying, ‘Where are ye, O sharpers of Egypt, O prigs of Al–Irak, O tricksters of Ajam-land? Behold, Zurayk the fishmonger hath hung up a purse in front of his shop, and whoso pretendeth to craft and cunning, and can take it by sleight, it is his.’ So the long fingered and greedy-minded come and try to take the purse, but cannot; for, whilst he frieth his fish and tendeth the fire, he layeth at his feet scone-like circles of lead; and whenever a thief thinketh to take him unawares and maketh a snatch at the purse he casteth at him a load of lead and slayeth him or doeth him a damage. So O Ali, wert thou to tackle him, thou wouldst be as one who jostleth a funeral cortége, unknowing who is dead;2 for thou art no match for him, and we fear his mischief for thee. Indeed, thou hast no call to marry Zaynab, and he who leaveth a thing alone liveth without it.” Cried Ali, “This were shame, O comrades; needs must I take the purse: but bring me a young lady’s habit.” So they brought him women’s clothes and he clad himself therein and stained his hands with Henna, and modestly hung down his veil. Then he took a lamb and killing it, cut out the long intestine3 which he cleaned and tied up below; moreover he filled it with the blood and bound it between his thighs; after which he donned petticoat-trousers and walking boots. He also made himself a pair of false breasts with birds’ crops and filled them with thickened milk and tied round his hips and over his belly a piece of linen, which he stuffed with cotton, girding himself over all with a kerchief of silk well starched. Then he went out, whilst all who saw him exclaimed, “What a fine pair of hind cheeks!” Presently he saw an ass-driver coming, so he gave him a dinar and mounting, rode till he came to Zurayk’s shop, where he saw the purse hung up and the gold glittering through it. Now Zurayk was frying fish, and Ali said, “O ass-man, what is that smell?” Replied he, “It’s the smell of Zurayk’s fish.” Quoth Ali, “I am a woman with child and the smell harmeth me; go, fetch me a slice of the fish.” So the donkey-boy said to Zurayk, “What aileth thee to fry fish so early and annoy pregnant women with the smell? I have here the wife of the Emir Hasan Sharr al-Tarik, and she is with child; so give her a bit of fish, for the babe stirreth in her womb. O Protector, O my God, avert from us the mischief of this day!” Thereupon Zurayk took a piece of fish and would have fried it, but the fire had gone out and he went in to rekindle it. Meanwhile Ali dismounted and sitting down, pressed upon the lamb’s intestine till it burst and the blood ran out from between his legs. Then he cried aloud, saying, “O my back! O my side!” Whereupon the driver turned and seeing the blood running, said, “What aileth thee, O my lady?” Replied Ali, “I have miscarried”; where-upon Zurayk looked out and seeing the blood fled affrighted into the inner shop. Quoth the donkey-driver, “Allah torment thee, O Zurayk! The lady hath miscarried and thou art no match for her husband. Why must thou make a stench so early in the morning? I said to thee, ‘Bring her a slice,’ but thou wouldst not.” Thereupon, he took his ass and went his way and, as Zurayk still did not appear, Ali put out his hand to the purse; but no sooner had he touched it than the bells and rattles and rings began to jingle and the gold to chink. Quoth Zurayk, who returned at the sound, “Thy perfidy hath come to light, O gallows-bird! Wilt thou put a cheat on me and thou in a woman’s habit? Now take what cometh to thee!” And he threw a cake of lead at him, but it went agley and lighted on another; whereupon the people rose against Zurayk and said to him, “Art thou a trades-man or a swashbuckler? An thou be a tradesman, take down thy purse and spare the folk thy mischief.” He replied, “Bismillah, in the name of Allah! On my head be it.” As for Ali, he made off to the barrack and told Hasan Shuman what had happened, after which he put off his woman’s gear and donning a groom’s habit which was brought to him by his chief took a dish and five dirhams. Then he returned to Zurayk’s shop and the fishmonger said to him, “What dost thou want, O my master?”4 He showed him the dirhams and Zurayk would have given him of the fish in the tray, but he said, “I will have none save hot fish.” So he set fish in the earthen pan and finding the fire dead, went in to relight it; whereupon Ali put out his hand to the purse and caught hold of the end of it. The rattles and rings and bells jingled and Zurayk said, “Thy trick hath not deceived me. I knew thee for all thou art disguised as a groom by the grip of thy hand on the dish and the dirhams.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is a neat touch of nature. Many a woman, even of the world, has fallen in love with a man before indifferent to her because he did not take advantage of her when he had the opportunity.
2 The slightest movement causes a fight at a funeral or a wedding-procession in the East; even amongst the “mild Hindus.”
3 Arab. “Al–Musrán” (plur. of “Masír”) properly the intestines which contain the chyle. The bag made by Ali was, in fact, a “Cundum” (so called from the inventor, Colonel Cundum of the Guards in the days of Charles Second) or “French letter”; une capote anglaise, a “check upon child.” Captain Grose says (Class. Dict. etc. s.v. Cundum) “The dried gut of a sheep worn by a man in the act of coition to prevent venereal infection. These machines were long prepared and sold by a matron of the name of Philips at the Green Canister in Half Moon Street in the Strand. Also a false scabbard over a sword and the oilskin case for the colours of a regiment.” Another account is given in the Guide Pratique des Maladies Secrètes, Dr. G. Harris, Bruxelles. Librairie Populaire. He calls these petits sachets de baudruche “Candoms, from the doctor who invented them” (Littré ignores the word) and declares that the famous Ricord compared them with a bad umbrella which a storm can break or burst, while others term them cuirasses against pleasure and cobwebs against infection. They were much used in the last century. “Those pretended stolen goods were Mr. Wilkes’s Papers, many of which tended to prove his authorship of the North Briton, No. 45, April 23, 1763, and some Cundums enclosed in an envelope” (Records of C. of King’s Bench, London, 1763). “Pour finir l’inventaire de ces curiosités du cabinet de Madame Gourdan, il ne faut pas omettre une multitude de redingottes appelées d’Angleterre, je ne sais pourquois. Vous connoissez, an surplus, ces especes de boucliers qu’on oppose aux traits empoisonnés de l’amour; et qui n’emoussent que ceux du plaisir.” (L’Observateur Anglois, Londres 1778, iii. 69.) Again we read:—
“Les capotes mélancoliques
Qui pendent chez les gros Millan (?)
S’enflent d’elles-memes, lubriques,
Et dechargent en se gonflant.”
Passage Satyrique.
Also in Louis Prolat:—
“Il fuyait, me laissant une capote au cul.”
The articles are now of two kinds mostly of baudruche (sheep’s gut) and a few of caout-chouc. They are made almost exclusively in the faubourgs of Paris, giving employment to many women and young girls; Grenelle turns out the baudruche and Grenelle and Lilas the India-rubber article; and of the three or four makers M. Deschamps is best known. The sheep’s gut is not joined in any way but of single piece as it comes from the animal after, of course, much manipulation to make it thin and supple; the inferior qualities are stuck together at the sides. Prices vary from 4 1/2 to 36 francs per gross. Those of India-rubber are always joined at the side with a solution especially prepared for the purpose. I have also heard of fish-bladders but can give no details on the subject. The Cundum was unknown to the ancients of Europe although syphilis was not: even prehistoric skeletons show traces of its ravages.
4 Arab. “Yá Ustá” (for “Ustáz.”) The Pers. term is Ustád=a craft-master, an artisan and especially a barber. Here it is merely a polite address.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ali of Egypt put out his hand to the purse, the bells and rings jingled and Zurayk said, “Thy trick hath not deceived me for all thou comest disguised as a groom I knew thee by the grip of thy hand on the dish and the dirhams!” So saying, he threw the lead at him, but he avoided it and it fell into the pan full of hot fish and broke it and overturned it, fat and all, upon the breast and shoulders of the Kazi, who was passing. The oil ran down inside his clothes to his privy parts and he cried out, “O my privities! What a sad pickle you are in! Alas, unhappy I! Who hath played me this trick?” Answered the people, “O our lord, it was some small boy that threw a stone into the pan: but for Allah’s word, it had been worse.” Then they turned and seeing the loaf of lead and that it was Zurayk who had thrown it, rose against him and said to him, “O Zurayk, this is not allowed of Allah! Take down the purse or it shall go ill for thee.” Answered he, “I will take it down, Inshallah!” Meanwhile Ali returned to the barrack and told his comrades who cried, “Where is the purse?”, all that had passed and they said, “Thou hast exhausted two-thirds of his cunning.” Then he changed his groom’s dress for the garb of a merchant and going out, met a snake-charmer, with a bag of serpents and a wallet containing his kit to whom said he, “O charmer, come and amuse my lads, and thou shalt have largesse.” So he accompanied him to the barrack, where he fed him and drugging him with Bhang, doffed his clothes and put them on. Then he took the bags and repairing to Zurayk’s shop began to play the reed-pipe. Quoth Zurayk, “Allah provide thee!” But Ali pulled out the serpents and cast them down before him; whereat the fishseller, who was afraid of snakes, fled from them into the inner shop. Thereupon Ali picked up the reptiles and, thrusting them back into the bag, stretched out his hand and caught hold of the end of the purse. The rings again rang and the bells and rattles jangled, and Zurayk cried, “Wilt thou never cease to play me tricks? Now thou feignest thyself a serpent-charmer!” So saying, he took up a piece of lead, and hurled it at Ali; but it missed him and fell on the head of a groom, who was passing by, following his master, a trooper, and knocked him down. Quoth the soldier, “Who felled him?”; and the folk said, “’Twas a stone fell from the roof.” So the soldier passed on and the people, seeing the piece of lead, went up to Zurayk and cried to him, “Take down the purse!”; and he said, “Inshallah, I will take it down this very night!” Ali ceased not to practice upon Zurayk till he had made seven different attempts but without taking the purse. Then he returned the snake-charmer his clothes and kit and gave him due benevolence; after which he went back to Zurayk’s shop and heard him say, “If I leave the purse here to-night, he will dig through the shop-wall and take it; I will carry it home with me.” So he arose and shut the shop; then he took down the purse and putting it in his bosom set out home, till he came near his house, when he saw a wedding in a neighbour’s lodging and said to himself, “I will hie me home and give my wife the purse and don my fine clothes and return to the marriage.” And Ali followed him. Now Zurayk had married a black girl, one of the freed women of the Wazir Ja’afar and she had borne him a son, whom he named Abdallah, and he had promised her to spend the money in the purse on the occasion of the boy’s circumcision and of his marriage- procession. So he went into his house and, as he entered, his wife saw that his face was overcast and asked him, “What hath caused thy sadness?” Quoth he, “Allah hath afflicted me this day with a rascal who made seven attempts to get the purse, but without avail;” and quoth she, “Give it to me, that I may lay it up against the boy’s festival-day.” (Now Ali, who had followed him lay hidden in a closet whence he could see and hear all.) So he gave her the purse and changed his clothes, saying, “Keep the purse safely, O Umm Abdallah, for I am going to the wedding.” But she said, “Take thy sleep awhile.” So he lay down and fell asleep. Presently, Ali rose and going on tiptoe to the purse, took it and went to the house of the wedding and stood there, looking on at the fun. Now meanwhile, Zurayk dreamt that he saw a bird fly away with the purse and awaking in affright, said to his wife, “Rise; look for the purse.” So she looked and finding it gone, buffeted her face and said, “Alas the blackness of thy fortune, O Umm Abdallah! A sharker hath taken the purse.” Quoth Zurayk, “By Allah it can be none other than rascal Ali who hath plagued me all day! He hath followed me home and seized the purse; and there is no help but that I go and get it back.” Quoth she, “Except thou bring it, I will lock on thee the door and leave thee to pass the night in the street.” So he went up to the house of the wedding, and seeing Ali looking on, said to himself, “This is he who took the purse; but he lodgeth with Ahmad al-Danaf.” So he forewent him to the barrack and, climbing up at the back, dropped down into the saloon, where he found every one asleep. Presently there came a rap at the door and Zurayk asked, “Who is there!” “Ali of Cairo,” answered the knocker; and Zurayk said, “Hast thou brought the purse?” So Ali thought it was Hasan Shuman and replied, “I have brought it;1 open the door.” Quoth Zurayk, “Impossible that I open to thee till I see the purse; for thy chief and I have laid a wager about it.” Said Ali, “Put out thy hand.” So he put out his hand through the hole in the side-door and Ali laid the purse in it; whereupon Zurayk took it and going forth, as he had come in, returned to the wedding. Ali stood for a long while at the door, but none opened to him; and at last he gave a thundering knock that awoke all the men and they said, “That is Ali of Cairo’s peculiar rap.” So the hall-keeper opened to him and Hasan Shuman said to him, “Hast thou brought the purse?” Replied Ali, “Enough of jesting, O Shuman: didst thou not swear that thou wouldest not open to me till I showed thee the purse, and did I not give it thee through the hole in the side door? And didst thou not say to me, ‘I am sworn never to open the door till thou show me the purse?’” Quoth Hasan? “By Allah, ’twas not I who took it, but Zurayk!” Quoth Ali, “Needs must I get it again,” and repaired to the house of the wedding, where he heard the buffoon2 say, “Bravo, 3 O Abu Abdallah! Good luck to thee with thy son!” Said Ali, “My luck is in the ascendant,” and going to the fishmonger’s lodging, climbed over the back wall of the house and found his wife asleep. So he drugged her with Bhang and clad himself in her clothes. Then he took the child in his arms and went round, searching, till he found a palm-leaf basket containing buns,4 which Zurayk of his niggardliness, had kept from the Greater Feast. Presently, the fishmonger returned and knocked at the door, whereupon Ali imitated his wife’s voice and asked, “Who is at the door?” “Abu Abdallah,” answered Zurayk and Ali said, “I swore that I would not open the door to thee, except thou broughtest back the purse.” Quoth the fish-monger, “I have brought it.” Cried All, “Here with it into my hand before I open the door;” and Zurayk answered, saying, “Let down the basket and take it therein.” So Sharper Ali let down the basket and the other put the purse therein, whereupon Ali took it and drugged the child. Then he aroused the woman and making off by the back way as he had entered, returned with the child and the purse and the basket of cakes to the barrack and showed them all to the Forty, who praised his dexterity. There-upon he gave them cakes, which they ate, and made over the boy to Hasan Shuman, saying, “This is Zurayk’s child; hide it by thee.” So he hid it and fetching a lamb, gave it to the hall-keeper who cooked it whole, wrapped in a cloth, and laid it out shrouded as it were a dead body. Meanwhile Zurayk stood awhile, waiting at the door, then gave a knock like thunder and his wife said to him, “Hast thou brought the purse?” He replied, “Didst thou not take it up in the basket thou diddest let down but now?”; and she rejoined, “I let no basket down to thee, nor have I set eyes on the purse.” Quoth he, “By Allah the sharper hath been beforehand with me and hath taken the purse again!” Then he searched the house and found the basket of cakes gone and the child missing and cried out, saying, “Alas, my child!” Where-upon the woman beat her breast and said, “I and thee to the Wazir, for none hath killed my son save this sharper, and all because of thee.” Cried Zurayk, “I will answer for him.” So he tied the kerchief of truce about his neck and going to Ahmad al-Danaf’s lodging, knocked at the door. The hall-keeper admitted him and as he entered Hasan Shuman asked him, “What bringeth thee here?” He answered, “Do ye intercede with Ali the Cairene to restore me my child and I will yield to him the purse of gold.” Quoth Hasan, “Allah requite thee, O Ali! Why didst thou not tell me it was his child?” “What hath befallen him?” cried Zurayk, and Hasan replied, “We gave him raisins to eat, and he choked and died and this is he.” Quoth Zurayk “Alas, my son! What shall I say to his mother?” Then he rose and opening the shroud, saw it was a lamb barbecued and said, “Thou makest sport of me, O Ali!” Then they gave him the child and Calamity Ahmad said to him, “Thou didst hang up the purse, proclaiming that it should be the property of any sharper who should be able to take it, and Ali hath taken it; so ’tis the very property of our Cairene.” Zurayk answered “I make him a present of it;” but Ali said to him, “Do thou accept it on account of thy niece Zaynab.” And Zurayk replied, “I accept it.” Then quoth the Forty, “We demand of thee Zaynab in marriage for Ali of Cairo;” but quoth he, “I have no control over her save of kindness.” Hasan asked, “Dost thou grant our suit?”; and he answered, “Yes, I will grant her in marriage to him who can avail to her mahr or marriage-settlement.” “And what is her dowry?” enquired Hasan; and Zurayk replied, “She hath sworn that none shall mount her breast save the man who bringeth her the robe of Kamar, daughter of Azariah the Jew and the rest of her gear.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In common parlance Arabs answer a question (like the classics of Europe who rarely used Yes and No, Yea and Nay), by repeating its last words. They have, however, many affirmative particles e.g. Ni’am which answers a negative “Dost thou not go?”— Ni’am (Yes!); and Ajal, a stronger form following a command, e.g. Sir (go)— Ajal, Yes verily. The popular form is Aywá (‘lláhi)=Yes, by Allah. The chief negatives are Má and Lá, both often used in the sense of “There is not.”
2 Arab. “Khalbús,” prop. the servant of the Almah-girls who acts buffoon as well as pimp. The “Maskharah” (whence our “mask”) corresponds with the fool or jester of mediæval Europe: amongst the Arnauts he is called “Suttari” and is known by his fox’s tails: he mounts a mare, tom-toms on the kettle-drum and is generally one of the bravest of the corps. These buffoons are noted for extreme indecency: they generally appear in the ring provided with an enormous phallus of whip-cord and with this they charge man, woman and child, to the infinite delight of the public.
3 Arab. “Shúbash” pronounced in Egypt Shobash: it is the Persian Sháh-básh lit.=be a King, equivalent to our bravo. Here, however, the allusion is to the buffoon’s cry at an Egyptian feast, “Shohbash ‘alayk, yá Sáhib al-faraj,”=a present is due from thee, O giver of the fête “ Sec Lane M. E. xxvii.
4 Arab. “Ka’ak al-I’d:” the former is the Arab form of the Persian “Kahk” (still retained in Egypt) whence I would derive our word “cake.” It alludes to the sweet cakes which are served up with dates, the quatre mendiants and sherbets during visits of the Lesser (not the greater) Festival, at the end of the Ramazan fast. (Lane M.E. xxv.)
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zurayk replied to Shuman, “She hath sworn that none shall ride astraddle upon her breast save the man who bringeth her the clothes of Kamar, daughter of Azariah the Jew and her crown and girdle and pantoufle1 of gold,” Ali cried, “If I do not bring her the clothes this very night, I renounce my claim to her.” Rejoined Zurayk, “O Ali, thou art a dead man if thou play any of thy pranks on Kamar.” “Why so?” asked Ali and the other answered, “Her father, Jew Azariah, is a skilful, wily, perfidious magician who hath the Jinn at his service. He owneth without the city a castle, whose walls are one brick of gold and one of silver and which is visible to the folk only whilst he is therein: when he goeth forth, it disappeareth. He brought his daughter this dress I speak of from an enchanted treasure, and every day he layeth it in a charger of gold and, opening the windows of the palace, crieth out, ‘Where are the sharpers of Cairo, the prigs of Al–Irak, the master-thieves of Ajam-land? Whoso prevaileth to take this dress, ’tis his.’ So all the long-fingered ones essayed the adventure, but failed to take it, and he turned them by his magic into apes and asses.” But Ali said, “I will assuredly take it, and Zaynab shall be displayed therein.”2 So he went to the shop of the Jew and found him a man of stern and forbidding aspect, seated with scales and stone-weights and gold and silver and nests of drawers and so forth before him, and a she-mule tethered hard by. Presently he rose and shutting his shop, laid the gold and silver in two purses, which he placed in a pair of saddle-bags and set on the she-mule’s back. Then he mounted and rode till he reached the city-outskirts followed, with-out his knowledge, by Ali, when he took out some dust from a pocket-purse and, muttering over it, sprinkled it upon the air. No sooner had he done this than sharper Ali saw a castle which had not its like, and the Jew mounted the steps upon his beast which was a subject Jinni; after which he dismounted and taking the saddle-bags off her back, dismissed the she-mule and she vanished. Then he entered the castle and sat down. Presently, he arose and opening the lattices, took a wand of gold, which he set up in the open window and, hanging thereto a golden charger by chains of the same metal, laid in it the dress, whilst Ali watched him from behind the door, and presently he cried out, saying, “Where are the sharpers of Cairo? Where are the prigs of Al–Irak, the master-thieves of the Ajam-land? Whoso can take this dress by his sleight, ’tis his!” Then he pronounced certain magical words and a tray of food spread itself before him. He ate and conjured a second time, whereupon the tray disappeared; and yet a third time, when a table of wine was placed between his hands and he drank. Quoth Ali, “I know not how I am to take the dress except if he be drunken.” Then he stole up behind the Jew whinger in grip; but the other turned and conjured, saying to his hand, “Hold with the sword;” whereupon Ali’s right arm was held and abode half-way in the air hending the hanger. He put out his left hand to the weapon, but it also stood fixed in the air, and so with his right foot, leaving him standing on one foot. Then the Jew dispelled the charm from him and Ali became as before. Presently Azariah struck a table of sand and found that the thief’s name was Mercury Ali of Cairo; so he turned to him and said, “Come nearer! Who art thou and what dost thou here?” He replied, “I am Ali of Cairo, of the band of Ahmad al-Danaf. I sought the hand of Zaynab, daughter of Dalilah the Wily, and she demanded thy daughter’s dress to her dowry; so do thou give it to me and become a Moslem, an thou wouldst save thy life.” Rejoined the Jew, “After thy death! Many have gone about to steal the dress, but failed to take it from me; wherefore an thou deign be advised, thou wilt begone and save thyself; for they only seek the dress of thee, that thou mayst fall into destruction; and indeed, had I not seen by geomancy that thy fortune overrideth my fortunes I had smitten thy neck.” Ali rejoiced to hear that his luck overcame that of the Jew and said to him, “There is no help for it but I must have the dress and thou must become a True Believer.” Asked the Jew, “Is this thy will and last word,” and Ali answered, “Yes.” So the Jew took a cup and filling it with water, conjured over it and said to Ali, “Come forth from this shape of a man into the form of an ass.” Then he sprinkled him with the water and straightway he became a donkey, with hoofs and long ears, and fell to braying after the manner of asinines. The Jew drew round him a circle which became a wall over against him, and drank on till the morning, when he said to Ali, “I will ride thee to-day and give the she-mule a rest.” So he locked up the dress, the charger, the rod and the charms in a cupboard3 and conjured over Ali, who followed him. Then he set the saddle-bags on his back and mounting, fared forth of the Castle, whereupon it disappeared from sight and he rode into Baghdad, till he came to his shop, where he alighted and emptied the bags of gold and silver into the trays before him. As for Ali, he was tied up by the shop-door, where he stood in his asinine form hearing and understanding all that passed, without being able to speak. And behold, up came a young merchant with whom fortune had played the tyrant and who could find no easier Way of earning his livelihood than water-carrying. So he brought his wife’s bracelets to the Jew and said to him, “Give me the price of these bracelets, that I may buy me an ass.” Asked the Jew, “What wilt thou do with him?”; and the other answered, “O master, I mean to fetch water from the river on his back, and earn my living thereby.” Quoth the Jew, “Take this ass of mine.” So he sold him the bracelets and received the ass-shaped Ali of Cairo in part payment and carried him home. Quoth Ali to himself, “If the Ass-man clap the pannel on thee and load thee with water-skins and go with thee half a score journeys a day he will ruin thy health and thou wilt die.” So, when the water-carrier’s wife came to bring him his fodder, he butted her with his head and she fell on her back; whereupon he sprang on her and smiting her brow with his mouth, put out and displayed that which his begetter left him. She cried aloud and the neighbours came to her assistance and beat him and raised him off her breast. When her husband the intended water-carrier came home, she said to him, “Now either divorce me or return the ass to his owner.” He asked, “What hath happened?”; and she answered, “This is a devil in the guise of a donkey. He sprang upon me, and had not the neighbours beaten him off my bosom he had done with me a foul thing.” So he carried the ass back to the Jew, who said to him, “Wherefore hast thou brought him back?” and he replied, “He did a foul thing with my wife.” So the Jew gave him his money again and he went away; and Azariah said to Ali, “Hast thou recourse to knavery, unlucky wretch that thou art, in order that”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Tásámah,” a rare word for a peculiar slipper. Dozy (s. v.) says only, espece de chaussure, sandale, pantoufle, soulier.
2 Arab. “Ijtilá”=the displaying of the bride on her wedding night so often alluded to in The Nights.
3 Arab. Khiskhánah; a mixed word from Klaysh=canvass or stuffs generally and Pers. Khánah=house room. Dozy (s.v.) says armoire, buffet.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the water-carrier brought back the ass, its Jew owner returned to him the monies and turning to Ali of Cairo said, “Hast thou recourse to knavery, unlucky wretch that thou art, in order that he may return thee to me? But since it pleaseth thee to be an ass, I will make thee a spectacle and a laughing stock to great and small.” Then he mounted him and rode till he came without the city, when he brought out the ashes in powder and conjuring over it sprinkled it upon the air and immediately the Castle appeared. He entered and taking the saddle-bags off the ass’s back set up the rod and hung to it the charger wherein were the clothes proclaiming aloud, “Where be the clever ones of all quarters who may avail to take this dress?” Then he conjured as before and meat was set before him and he ate and then wine when he drank; after which he took a cup of water and muttering certain words thereover, sprinkled it on the ass Ali, saying, “Quit this form and return to thy former shape.” Ali straightway became a man once more and Azariah said to him, “O Ali, take good advice and be content with my mischief. Thou hast no call to marry Zaynab nor to take my daughter’s dress, for ’tis no easy matter for thee: so leave greed and ’twill be better for thee; else will I turn thee into a bear or an ape or set on thee an Ifrit, who will cast thee behind the Mountain Kaf.” He replied, “I have engaged to take the dress and needs must I have it and thou must Islamise or I will slay thee.” Rejoined the Jew, “O Ali, thou art like a walnut; unless it be broken it cannot be eaten.” Then he took a cup of water and conjuring over it, sprinkled Ali with somewhat thereof, saying, “Take thou shape of bear;” whereupon he instantly became a bear and the Jew put a collar about his neck, muzzled him and chained him to a picket of iron. Then he sat down and ate and drank, now and then throwing him a morsel of his orts and emptying the dregs of the cup over him, till the morning, when he rose and laid by the tray and the dress and conjured over the bear, which followed him to the shop. There the Jew sat down and emptied the gold and silver into the trays before Ali, after binding him by the chain; and the bear there abode seeing and comprehending but not able to speak. Presently up came a man and a merchant, who accosted the Jew and said to him, “O Master, wilt thou sell me yonder bear? I have a wife who is my cousin and is sick; and they have prescribed for her to eat bears’ flesh and anoint herself with bears’ grease.” At this the Jew rejoiced and said to himself, “I will sell him to this merchant, so he may slaughter him and we be at peace from him.” And Ali also said in his mind, “By Allah, this fellow meaneth to slaughter me; but deliverance is with the Almighty.” Then said the Jew, “He is a present from me to thee.” So the merchant took him and carried him into the butcher, to whom he said, “Bring thy tools and company me.” The butcher took his knives and followed the merchant to his house, where he bound the beast and fell to sharpening his blade: but, when he went up to him to slaughter him, the bear escaped from his hands and rising into the air, disappeared from sight between heaven and earth; nor did he cease flying till he alighted at the Jew’s castle. Now the reason thereof was on this wise. When the Jew returned home, his daughter questioned him of Ali and he told her what had happened; whereupon she said, “Summon a Jinni and ask him of the youth, whether he be indeed Mercury Ali or another who seeketh to put a cheat on thee.” So Azariah called a Jinni by conjurations and questioned him of Ali; and he replied, “’Tis Ali of Cairo himself. The butcher hath pinioned him and whetted his knife to slaughter him.” Quoth the Jew, “Go, snatch him up and bring him hither, ere the butcher cut his throat.” So the Jinni flew off and, snatching Ali out of the butcher’s hands, bore him to the palace and set him down before the Jew, who took a cup of water and conjuring over it, sprinkled him therewith, saying, “Return to thine own shape.” And he straightway became a man again as before. The Jew’s daughter Kamar,1 seeing him to be a handsome young man, fell in love with him and he fell in love with her; and she said to him, “O unlucky one, why dost thou go about to take my dress, enforcing my father to deal thus with thee?” Quoth he, “I have engaged to get it for Zaynab the Coney-catcher, that I may wed her therewith.” And she said, “Others than thou have played pranks with my father to get my dress, but could not win to it,” presently adding, “So put away this thought from thee.” But he answered, “Needs must I have it, and thy father must become a Moslem, else I will slay him.” Then said the Jew, “See, O my daughter, how this unlucky fellow seeketh his own destruction,” adding, “Now I will turn thee into a dog.” So he took a cup graven with characters and full of water and conjuring over it, sprinkled some of it upon Ali, saying, “Take thou form of dog.” Whereupon he straight-way became a dog, and the Jew and his daughter drank together till the morning, when the father laid up the dress and charger and mounted his mule. Then he conjured over the dog, which followed him, as he rode towards the town, and all dogs barked at Ali2 as he passed, till he came to the shop of a broker, a seller of second-hand goods, who rose and drove away the dogs, and Ali lay down before him. The Jew turned and looked for him, but finding him not, passed onwards. Presently, the broker shut up his shop and went home, followed by the dog, which, when his daughter saw enter the house, she veiled her face and said, “O my papa, dost thou bring a strange man in to me?” He replied, “O my daughter, this is a dog.” Quoth she, “Not so, ’tis Ali the Cairene, whom the Jew Azariah hath enchanted;” and she turned to the dog and said to him, “Art not Ali of Cairo?” And he signed to her with his head, “Yes.” Then her father asked her, “Why did the Jew enchant him?”; and she answered, “Because of his daughter Kamar’s dress; but I can release him.” Said the broker, “An thou canst indeed do him this good office, now is the time,” and she, “If he will marry me, I will release him.” And he signed to her with his head, “Yes.” So she took a cup of water, graven with certain signs and conjuring over it, was about to sprinkle Ali therewith, when lo and behold! she heard a great cry and the cup fell from her hand. She turned and found that it was her father’s handmaid, who had cried out; and she said to her, “O my mistress, is’t thus thou keepest the covenant between me and thee? None taught thee this art save I, and thou didst agree with me that thou wouldst do naught without consulting me and that whoso married thee should marry me also, and that one night should be mine and one night thine.” And the broker’s daughter said, “’Tis well.” When the broker heard the maid’s words, he asked his daughter, “Who taught the maid?”; and she answered, “O my papa, enquire of herself.” So he put the question and she replied, “Know, O my lord, that, when I was with Azariah the Jew, I used to spy upon him and listen to him, when he performed his gramarye; and when he went forth to his shop in Baghdad, I opened his books and read in them, till I became skilled in the Cabbala-science. One day, he was warm with wine and would have me lie with him, but I objected, saying, ‘I may not grant thee this except thou become a Moslem.’ He refused and I said to him, ‘Now for the Sultan’s market.’3 So he sold me to thee and I taught my young mistress, making it a condition with her that she should do naught without my counsel, and that whoso might wed her should wed me also, one night for me and one night for her.” Then she took a cup of water and conjuring over it, sprinkled the dog therewith; saying, “Return thou to form of man.” And he straightway was restored to his former shape; whereupon the broker saluted him with the salam and asked him the reason of his enchantment. So Ali told him all that had passed — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Bresl. Edit. “Kamaríyah”=Moon-like (fem.) for Moon.
2 Every traveller describes the manners and customs of dogs in Eastern cities where they furiously attack all canine intruders. I have noticed the subject in writing of Al–Medinah where the beasts are confined to the suburbs. (Pilgrimage ii. 52–54.)
3 She could legally compel him to sell her; because, being an Infidel, he had attempted to debauch a Moslemah.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the broker, having saluted Ali of Cairo with the salam, asked him the reason of his enchantment and what had befallen him; and he answered by telling him all that had passed, when the broker said to him, “Will not my daughter and the handmaid suffice thee?” but he answered, “Needs must I have Zaynab also.” Now suddenly there came a rap at the door and the maid said, “Who is at the door?” The knocker replied, “Kamar, daughter of Azariah the Jew; say me, is Ali of Cairo with you?” Replied the broker’s daughter, “O thou daughter of a dog! If he be with us, what wilt thou with him? Go down, O maid, and open to her.” So the maid let her in, and when she looked upon Ali and he upon her, he said, “What bringeth thee hither O dog’s daughter?” Quoth she, “I testify that there is no god but the God and I testify that Mohammed is the Apostle of God.” And, having thus Islamised, she asked him, “Do men in the Faith of Al–Islam give marriage portions to women or do women dower men?” Quoth he, “Men endow women.” “Then,” said she, “I come and dower myself for thee, bringing thee, as my marriage-portion, my dress together with the rod and charger and chains and the head of my father, the enemy of thee and the foeman of Allah.” And she threw down the Jew’s head before him. Now the cause of her slaying her sire was as follows. On the night of his turning Ali into a dog, she saw, in a dream, a speaker who said to her, “Become a Moslemah.” She did so; and as soon as she awoke next morning she expounded Al–Islam to her father who refused to embrace the Faith; so she drugged him with Bhang and killed him. As for Ali, he took the gear and said to the broker, “Meet we to-morrow at the Caliph’s Divan, that I may take thy daughter and the handmaid to wife.” Then he set out rejoicing, to return to the barrack of the Forty. On his way he met a sweetmeat seller, who was beating hand upon hand and saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Folk’s labour hath waxed sinful and man is active only in fraud!” Then said he to Ali, “I conjure thee, by Allah, taste of this confection!” So Ali took a piece and ate it and fell down senseless, for there was Bhang therein; whereupon the sweetmeat-seller seized the dress and the charger and the rest of the gear and thrusting them into the box where he kept his sweetmeats hoisted it up and made off. Presently he met a Kazi, who called to him, saying, “Come hither, O sweet-meat seller!” So he went up to him and setting down his sack laid the tray of sweetmeats upon it and asked, “What dost thou want?” “Halwá and dragées,1” answered the Kazi and, taking some in his hand, said, “Both of these are adulterated.” Then he brought out sweetmeats from his breast-pocket2 and gave them to the sweetmeat-seller, saying, “Look at this fashion; how excellent it is! Eat of it and make the like of it.” So he ate and fell down senseless, for the sweetmeats were drugged with Bhang, whereupon the Kazi bundled him into the sack and made off with him, charger and chest and all, to the barrack of the Forty. Now the Judge in question was Hasan Shuman and the reason of this was as follows. When Ali had been gone some days in quest of the dress and they heard no news of him, Calamity Ahmad said to his men, “O lads, go and seek for your brother Ali of Cairo.” So they sallied forth in quest of him and among the rest Hasan Shuman the Pestilence, disguised in a Kazi’s gear. He came upon the sweetmeat-seller and, knowing him for Ahmad al-Lakit3 suspected him of having played some trick upon Ali; so he drugged him and did as we have seen. Mean-while, the other Forty fared about the streets and highways making search in different directions, and amongst them Ali Kitf al-Jamal, who espying a crowd, made towards the people and found the Cairene Ali lying drugged and senseless in their midst. So he revived him and he came to himself and seeing the folk flocking around him asked, “Where am I?” Answered Ali Camel-shoulder and his comrades, “We found thee lying here drugged but know not who drugged thee.” Quoth Ali, “’Twas a certain sweetmeat-seller who drugged me and took the gear from me; but where is he gone?” Quoth his comrades, “We have seen nothing of him; but come, rise and go home with us.” So they returned to the barrack, where they found Ahmad al-Danaf, who greeted Ali and enquired if he had brought the dress. He replied, “I was coming hither with it and other matters, including the Jew’s head, when a sweetmeat-seller met me and drugged me with Bhang and took them from me.” Then he told him the whole tale ending with, “If I come across that man of goodies again, I will requite him.” Presently Hasan Shuman came out of a closet and said to him, “Hast thou gotten the gear, O Ali?” So he told him what had befallen him and added, “If I know whither the rascal is gone and where to find the knave, I would pay him out. Knowest thou whither he went?” Answered Hasan, “I know where he is,” and opening the door of the closet, showed him the sweetmeat-seller within, drugged and senseless. Then he aroused him and he opened his eyes and finding himself in presence of Mercury Ali and Calamity Ahmad and the Forty, started up and said, “Where am I and who hath laid hands on me?” Replied Shuman, “’Twas I laid hands on thee;” and Ali cried, “O perfidious wretch, wilt thou play thy pranks on me?” And he would have slain him: but Hasan said to him, “Hold thy hand for this fellow is become thy kinsman.” “How my kinsman?” quoth Ali; and quoth Hasan, “This is Ahmad al-Lakit son of Zaynab’s sister.” Then said Ali to the prisoner, “Why didst thou thus, O Lakit?” and he replied, “My grandmother, Dalilah the Wily, bade me do it; only because Zurayk the fishmonger fore-gathered with the old woman and said, ‘Mercury Ali of Cairo is a sharper and a past master in knavery, and he will certainly slay the Jew and bring hither the dress.’ So she sent for me and said to me, ‘O Ahmad, dost thou know Ali of Cairo?’ Answered I, ‘Indeed I do and ’twas I directed him to Ahmad al-Danaf’s lodging when he first came to Baghdad.’ Quoth she, ‘Go and set thy nets for him, and if he have brought back the gear, put a cheat on him and take it from him.’ So I went round about the highways of the city, till I met a sweetmeat-seller and buying his clothes and stock-in-trade and gear for ten dinars, did what was done.” Thereupon quoth Ali, “Go back to thy grandmother and Zurayk, and tell them that I have brought the gear and the Jew’s head and tell them to meet me to-morrow at the Caliph’s Divan, there to receive Zaynab’s dowry.” And Calamity Ahmad rejoiced in this and said, “We have not wasted our pains in rearing thee, O Ali!” Next morning Ali took the dress, the charger, the rod and the chains of gold, together with the head of Azariah the Jew mounted on a pike, and went up, accompanied by Ahmad al-Danaf and the Forty, to the Divan, where they kissed ground before the Caliph — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Haláwat wa Mulabbas”; the latter etymologically means one dressed or clothed. Here it alludes to almonds, etc., clothed or coated with sugar. See Dozy (s.v.) “labas.”
2 Arab. “‘Ubb” from a root=being long: Dozy (s.v.), says poche au sein; Habb al-‘ubb is a woman’s ornament.
3 Who, it will be remembered, was Dalilah’s grandson.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ali the Cairene went up to the Caliph’s Divan, accompanied by his uncle Ahmad al-Danaf and his lads they kissed ground before the Caliph who turned and seeing a youth of the most valiant aspect, enquired of Calamity Ahmad concerning him and he replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, this is Mercury Ali the Egyptian captain of the brave boys of Cairo, and he is the first of my lads.” And the Caliph loved him for the valour that shone from between his eyes, testifying for him and not against him. Then Ali rose; and, casting the Jew’s head down before him, said, “May thine every enemy be like this one, O Prince of True Believers!” Quoth Al–Rashid, “Whose head is this?”; and quoth Ali, “’Tis the head of Azariah the Jew.” “Who slew him?” asked the Caliph. So Ali related to him all that had passed, from first to last, and the Caliph said, “I had not thought thou wouldst kill him, for that he was a sorcerer.” Ali replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, my Lord made me prevail to his slaughter.” Then the Caliph sent the Chief of Police to the Jew’s palace, where he found him lying headless; so he laid the body on a bier,1 and carried it to Al–Rashid, who commanded to burn it. Whereat, behold, up came Kamar and kissing the ground before the Caliph, informed him that she was the daughter of Jew Azariah and that she had become a Moslemah. Then she renewed her profession of Faith before the Commander of the Faithful and said to him “Be thou my intercessor with Sharper Ali that he take me to wife.” She also appointed him her guardian to consent to her marriage with the Cairene, to whom he gave the Jew’s palace and all its contents, saying, “Ask a boon of me.” Quoth Ali, “I beg of thee to let me stand on thy carpet and eat of thy table;” and quoth the Caliph, “O Ali, hast thou any lads?” He replied, “I have forty lads; but they are in Cairo.” Rejoined the Caliph, “Send to Cairo and fetch them hither,” presently adding, “But, O Ali, hast thou a barrack for them?” “No,” answered Ali; and Hasan Shuman said, “I make him a present of my barrack with all that is therein, O Commander of the Faithful.” However, the Caliph retorted, saying, “Thy lodging is thine own, O Hasan;” and he bade his treasurer give the court architect ten thousand dinars, that he might build Ali a hall with four daises and forty sleeping-closets for his lads. Then said he, “O Ali, hast thou any further wish, that we may command its fulfilment?”. and said Ali, “O King of the age, be thou my intercessor with Dalilah the Wily that she give me her daughter Zaynab to wife and take the dress and gear of Azariah’s girl in lieu of dower.” Dalilah accepted the Caliph’s intercession and accepted the charger and dress and what not, and they drew up the marriage contracts between Ali and Zaynab and Kamar, the Jew’s daughter and the broker’s daughter and the handmaid. Moreover, the Caliph assigned him a solde with a table morning and evening, and stipends and allowances for fodder; all of the most liberal. Then Ali the Cairene fell to making ready for the wedding festivities and, after thirty days, he sent a letter to his comrades in Cairo, wherein he gave them to know of the favours and honours which the Caliph had bestowed upon him and said, “I have married four maidens and needs must ye come to the wedding.” So, after a reasonable time the forty lads arrived and they held high festival; he homed them in his barrack and entreated them with the utmost regard and presented them to the Caliph, who bestowed on them robes of honour and largesse. Then the tiring-women displayed Zaynab before Ali in the dress of the Jew’s daughter, and he went in unto her and found her a pearl unthridden and a filly by all save himself unridden. Then he went in unto the three other maidens and found them accomplished in beauty and loveliness. After this it befel that Ali of Cairo was one night on guard by the Caliph who said to him, “I wish thee O Ali, to tell me all that hath befallen thee from first to last with Dalilah the Wily and Zaynab the Coney-catcher and Zurayk the Fishmonger.” So Ali related to him all his adventures and the Commander of the Faithful bade record them and lay them up in the royal muniment-rooms. So they wrote down all that had befallen him and kept it in store with other histories for the people of Mohammed the Best of Men. And Ali and his wives and comrades abode in all solace of life, and its joyance, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Societies; and Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) is All-knowing!2 And also men relate the tale of
1 Arab. “Tábút,” a term applied to the Ark of the Covenant (Koran ii. 349), which contained Moses’ rod and shoes, Aaron’s mitre, the manna-pot, the broken Tables of the Law, and the portraits of all the prophets which are to appear till the end of time — an extensive list for a box measuring 3 by 2 cubits. Europeans often translate it coffin, but it is properly the wooden case placed over an honoured grave. “Irán” is the Ark of Moses’ exposure, also the large hearse on which tribal chiefs were carried to earth.
2 i.e. What we have related is not “Gospel Truth.”
There was once in the city of Shíráz a mighty King called Sayf al-A’azam Shah, who had grown old, without being blessed with a son. So he summoned the physicists and physicians and said to them, “I am now in years and ye know my case and the state of the kingdom and its ordinance; and I fear for my subjects after me; for that up to this present I have not been vouchsafed a son.” Thereupon they replied, “We will compound thee a somewhat of drugs wherein shall be efficacy, if it please Almighty Allah!” So they mixed him drugs, which he used and knew his wife carnally, and she conceived by leave of the Most High Lord, who saith to a thing, “Be,” and it becometh. When her months were accomplished, she gave birth to a male child like the moon, whom his father named Ardashir,2 and he grew up and throve and applied himself to the study of learning and letters, till he attained the age of fifteen. Now there was in Al–Irak a King called Abd al-Kádir who had a daughter, by name Hayát al-Nufús, and she was like the rising full moon, but she had an hatred for men and the folk very hardly dared name mankind in her presence. The Kings of the Chosroës had sought her in marriage of her sire; but, when he spoke with her thereof, she said, “Never will I do this; and if thou force me thereto, I will slay myself.” Now Prince Ardashir heard of her fame and fell in love with her and told his father who, seeing his case, took pity on him and promised him day by day that he should marry her. So he despatched his Wazir to demand her in wedlock, but King Abd al-Kadir refused, and when the Minister returned to King Sayf al-A’azam and acquainted him with what had befallen his mission and the failure thereof, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and cried, “Shall the like of me send to one of the Kings on a requisition and he accomplish it not?” Then he bade a herald make proclamation to his troops, bidding them bring out the tents and equip them for war with all diligence, though they should borrow money for the necessary expenses; and he said, “I will on no wise turn back, till I have laid waste King Abd al-Kadir’s dominions and slain his men and plundered his treasures and blotted out his traces!” When the report of this reached Ardashir he rose from his carpet-bed, and going in to his father, kissed ground3 between his hands and said, “O mighty King, trouble not thyself with aught of this thing”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Omitted by Lane (iii. 252) “because little more than a repetition” of Taj al-Mulúk and the Lady Dunyá. This is true; but the nice progress of the nurse’s pimping is a well-finished picture and the old woman’s speech (infra p. 243) is a gem.
2 Artaxerxes; in the Mac. Edit. Azdashir, a misprint.
3 I use “kiss ground” as we say “kiss hands.” But it must not be understood literally: the nearest approach would be to touch the earth with the finger-tips and apply them to the lips or brow. Amongst Hindus the Ashtánga-prostration included actually kissing the ground.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when report of this reached the Prince he went in to his sire the King and, kissing ground between his hands, said, “O mighty King, trouble not thy soul with aught of this thing and levy not thy champions and armies neither spend thy monies. Thou art stronger than he, and if thou loose upon him this thy host, thou wilt lay waste his cities and dominions and spoil his good and slay his strong men and himself; but when his daughter shall come to know what hath befallen her father and his people by reason of her, she will slay herself, and I shall die on her account; for I can never live after her; no, never.” Asked the King, “And what then thinkest thou to do, O my son?” and the Prince answered, “I will don a merchant’s habit and cast about how I may win to the Princess and compass my desire of her.” Quoth Sayf al-A’azam, “Art thou determined upon this?”; and quoth the Prince, “Yes, O my sire;” whereupon the King called to his Wazir, and said to him, “Do thou journey with my son, the core of my heart, and help him to win his will and watch over him and guide him with thy sound judgment, for thou standest to him even in my stead.” “I hear and obey,” answered the Minister; and the King gave his son three hundred thousand dinars in gold and great store of jewels and precious stones and goldsmiths’ ware and stuffs and other things of price. Then Prince Ardashir went in to his mother and kissed her hands and asked her blessing. She blessed him and, forthright opening her treasures, brought out to him necklaces and trinkets and apparel and all manner of other costly objects hoarded up from the time of the bygone Kings, whose price might not be evened with coin. Moreover, he took with him of his Mamelukes and negro-slaves and cattle all that he needed for the road and clad himself and the Wazir and their company in traders’ gear. Then he farewelled his parents and kinsfolk and friends; and, setting out, fared on over wolds and wastes all hours of the day and watches of the night; and whenas the way was longsome upon him he improvised these couplets,
“My longing bred of love with mine unease for ever grows;
Nor against all the wrongs of time one succourer arose:
When Pleiads and the Fishes show in sky the rise I watch,
As worshipper within whose breast a pious burning glows:
For Star o’ Morn I speer until at last when it is seen,
I’m madded with my passion and my fancy’s woes and throes:
I swear by you that never from your love have I been loosed;
Naught am I save a watcher who of slumber nothing knows!
Though hard appear my hope to win, though languor aye increase,
And after thee my patience fails and ne’er a helper shows;
Yet will I wait till Allah shall be pleased to join our loves;
I’ll mortify the jealous and I’ll mock me of my foes.”
When he ended his verse he swooned away and the Wazir sprinkled rose-water on him, till the Prince came to himself, when the Minister said to him, “O King’s son, possess thy soul in patience; for the consequence of patience is consolation, and behold, thou art on the way to whatso thou wishest.” And he ceased not to bespeak him fair and comfort him till his trouble subsided; and they continued their journey with all diligence. Presently, the Prince again became impatient of the length of the way and bethought him of his beloved and recited these couplets,
“Longsome is absence, restlessness increaseth and despite;
And burn my vitals in the blaze my love and longings light:
Grows my hair gray from pains and pangs which I am doomed bear
For pine, while tear-floods stream from eyes and sore offend my sight:
I swear, O Hope of me, O End of every wish and will,
By Him who made mankind and every branch with leafage dight,
A passion-load for thee, O my Desire, I must endure,
And boast I that to bear such load no lover hath the might.
Question the Night of me and Night thy soul shall satisfy
Mine eyelids never close in sleep throughout the livelong night.”
Then he wept with sore weeping and ‘plained of that he suffered for stress of love-longing; but the Wazir comforted him and spoke him fair, promising him the winning of his wish; after which they fared on again for a few days, when they drew near to the White City, the capital of King Abd al-Kadir, soon after sunrise. Then said the Minister to the Prince, “Rejoice, O King’s son, in all good; for see, yonder is the White City, that which thou seekest.” Whereat the Prince rejoiced with exceeding joy and recited these couplets,
“My friends, I yearn in heart distraught for him;
Longing abides and with sore pains I brim:
I mourn like childless mother, nor can find
One to console me when the light grows dim;
Yet when the breezes blow from off thy land,
I feel their freshness shed on heart and limb;
And rail mine eyes like water-laden clouds,
While in a tear-sea shed by heart I swim.”
Now when they entered the White City they asked for the Merchants’ Khan, a place of moneyed men; and when shown the hostelry they hired three magazines and on receiving the keys1 they laid up therein all their goods and gear. They abode in the Khan till they were rested, when the Wazir applied himself to devise a device for the Prince — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The “key” is mentioned because a fee so called (miftáh) is paid on its being handed to the new lodger. (Pilgrimage i. 62.)
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Prince and the Minister alighted at the Khan and lodged their goods in the ground-floor magazines and there settled their servants. Then they tarried awhile till they had rested, when the Wazir arose and applied himself to devise a device for the Prince, and said to him, “I have bethought me of somewhat wherein, methinks, will be success for thee, so it please Almighty Allah.” Quoth Ardashir, “O thou Wazir of good counsel, do what cometh to thy mind, and may the Lord direct thy rede aright!” Quoth the Minister, “I purpose to hire thee a shop in the market-street of the stuff-sellers and set thee therein; for that all, great and small, have recourse to the bazar and, meseems, when the folk see thee with their own eyes sitting in the shop their hearts will incline to thee and thou wilt thus be enabled to attain thy desire, for thou art fair of favour and souls incline to thee and sight rejoiceth in thee.” The other replied, “Do what seemeth good to thee.” So the Wazir forthright began to robe the Prince and himself in their richest raiment and, putting a purse of a thousand dinars in his breast-pocket, went forth and walked about the city, whilst all who looked upon them marvelled at the beauty of the King’s son, saying, “Glory be to Him who created this youth ‘of vile water1’! Blessed be Allah excellentest of Creators!” Great was the talk anent him and some said, “This is no mortal, ‘this is naught save a noble angel’”;2 and others, “Hath Rizwan, the door-keeper of the Eden-garden, left the gate of Paradise unguarded, that this youth hath come forth.” The people followed them to the stuff — market, where they entered and stood, till there came up to them an old man of dignified presence and venerable appearance, who saluted them, and they returned his salam. Then the Shaykh said to them, “O my lords, have ye any need, that we may have the honour of accomplishing?”; and the Wazir asked him, “Who art thou, O elder?” He answered, “I am the Overseer of the market.” Quoth the Wazir, “Know then, O Shaykh, that this youth is my son and I wish to hire him a shop in the bazar, that he may sit therein and learn to sell and buy and take and give, and come to ken merchants’ ways and habits.” “I hear and I obey,” replied the Overseer and brought them without stay or delay the key of a shop, which he caused the brokers sweep and clean. And they did his bidding. Then the Wazir sent for a high mattress, stuffed with ostrich-down, and set it up in the shop, spreading upon it a small prayer-carpet, and a cushion fringed with broidery of red gold. Moreover he brought pillows and transported thither so much of the goods and stuffs that he had brought with him as filled the shop. Next morning the young Prince came and opening the shop, seated himself on the divan, and stationed two Mamelukes, clad in the richest of raiment before him and two black slaves of the goodliest of the Abyssinians in the lower part of the shop. The Wazir enjoined him to keep his secret from the folk, so thereby he might find aid in the winning of his wishes; then he left him and charging him to acquaint him with what befel him in the shop, day by day returned to the Khan. The Prince sat in the shop till night as he were the moon at its fullest, whilst the folk, hearing tell of his comeliness, flocked to the place, without errand, to gaze on his beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace and glorify the Almighty who created and shaped him, till none could pass through that bazar for the excessive crowding of the folk about him. The King’s son turned right and left, abashed at the throng of people that stared at him, hoping to make acquaintance with some one about the court, of whom he might get news of the Princess; but he found no way to this, wherefore his breast was straitened. Meanwhile, the Wazir daily promised him the attainment of his desire and the case so continued for a time till, one morning, as the youth sat in the shop, there came up an old woman of respectable semblance and dignified presence clad in raiment of devotees3 and followed by two slave-girls like moons. She stopped before the shop and, having considered the Prince awhile, cried, “Glory be to God who fashioned that face and perfected that figure!” Then she saluted him and he returned her salam and seated her by his side. Quoth she, “Whence cometh thou, O fair of favour?”; and quoth he, “From the parts of Hind, O my mother; and I have come to this city to see the world and look about me.” “Honour to thee for a visitor! What goods and stuffs hast thou? Show me something handsome, fit for Kings.” “If thou wish for handsome stuffs, I will show them to thee; for I have wares that beseem persons of every condition.” “O my son, I want somewhat costly of price and seemly to sight; brief, the best thou hast.” “Thou must needs tell me for whom thou seekest it, that I may show thee goods according to the rank of the requiter.” “Thou speakest sooth, O my son,” said she. “I want somewhat for my mistress, Hayat al-Nufus, daughter of Abd al-Kadir, lord of this land and King of this country.” Now when Ardashir heard his mistress’s name, his reason flew for joy and his heart fluttered and he gave no order to slave or servant, but, putting his hand behind him, pulled out a purse of an hundred dinars and offered it to the old woman, saying, “This is for the washing of thy clothes.” Then he again put forth his hand and brought out of a wrapper a dress worth ten thousand dinars or more and said to her, “This is of that which I have brought to your country.” When the old woman saw it, it pleased her and she asked, “What is the price of this dress, O perfect in qualities?” Answered he, “I will take no price for it!” whereupon she thanked him and repeated her question; but he said, “By Allah, I will take no price for it. I make thee a present of it, an the Princess will not accept it and ’tis a guest-gift from me to thee. Alham — dolillah — Glory be to God — who hath brought us together, so that, if one day I have a want, I shall find in thee a helper to me in winning it!” She marvelled at the goodliness of his speech and the excess of his generosity and the perfection of his courtesy and said to him, “What is thy name, O my lord?” He replied, “My name is Ardashir;” and she cried, “By Allah this is a rare name! Therewith are Kings’ sons named, and thou art in a guise of the sons of the merchants!” Quoth he, “Of the love my father bore me, he gave me this name, but a name signifieth naught;” and quoth she in wonder, “O my son, take the price of thy goods.” But he swore that he would not take aught. Then the old lady said to him, “O my dear one, Truth (I would have thee know) is the greatest of all things and thou hadst not dealt thus generously by me but for a special reason: so tell me thy case and thy secret thought; belike thou hast some wish to whose winning I may help thee.” Thereupon he laid his hand in hers and, after exacting an oath of secrecy, told her the whole story of his passion for the Princess and his condition by reason thereof. The old woman shook her head and said, “True; but O my son, the wise say, in the current adage, ‘An thou wouldest be obeyed, abstain from ordering what may not be made’; and thou, my son, thy name is Merchant, and though thou hadst the keys of the Hidden Hoards, yet wouldst thou be called naught but Merchant. An thou wouldst rise to high rank, according to thy station, then seek the hand of a Kazi’s daughter or even an Emir’s; but why, O my son, aspirest thou to none but the daughter of the King of the age and the time, and she a clean maid, who knoweth nothing of the things of the world and hath never in her life seen anything but her palace wherein she dwelleth? Yet, for all her tender age, she is intelligent, shrewd, vivacious, penetrating, quick of wit, sharp of act and rare of rede: her father hath no other child and she is dearer to him than his life and soul. Every morning he cometh to her and giveth her good-morrow, and all who dwell in the palace stand in dread of her. Think not, O my son, that any dare bespeak her with aught of these words; nor is there any way for me thereto. By Allah, O my son, my heart and vitals love thee and were it in my power to give thee access to her, I would assuredly do it; but I will tell thee somewhat, wherein Allah may haply appoint the healing of thy heart, and will risk life and goods for thee, till I win thy will for thee.” He asked, “And what is that, O my mother?” and she answered, “Seek of me the daughter of a Wazir or an Emir, and I will grant thy request; but it may not be that one should mount from earth to heaven at one bound.” When the Prince heard this, he replied to her with courtesy and sense, “O my mother, thou art a woman of wit and knowest how things go. Say me doth a man, when his head irketh him, bind up his hand?” Quoth she, “No, by Allah, O my son”; and quoth he, “Even so my heart seeketh none but her and naught slayeth me but love of her. By Allah, I am a dead man, and I find not one to counsel me aright and succour me! Allah upon thee, O my mother, take pity on my strangerhood and the streaming of my tears!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ardashir, the King’s son said to the old woman, “Allah upon thee, O my mother, take pity on my strangerhood and the streaming of my tears.” Replied she, “By Allah, O my son, thy words rend my heart, but my hand hath no cunning wherewith to help thee.” Quoth he, “I beseech thee of thy favour, carry her a letter and kiss her hands for me.” So she had compassion on him and said, “Write what thou wilt and I will bear it to her.” When he heard this, he was ready to fly for joy and calling for ink-case and paper, wrote these couplets,
“O Hayát al-Núfus, be gen’rous, and incline
To one who loving thee for parting’s doomed to pine.
I was in all delight, in gladsomest of life,
But now I am distraught with sufferings condign.
To wakefulness I cling through longsomeness of night
And with me sorrow chats1 through each sad eye of mine;
Pity a lover sad, a sore afflicted wretch,
Whose eyelids ever ulcered are with tearful brine;
And when the morning comes at last, the real morn,
He finds him drunken and distraught with passion’s wine.”
Then he folded the scroll and kissing it, gave it to the old woman; after which he put his hand to a chest and took out a second purse containing an hundred dinars, which he presented to her, saying, “Divide this among the slave-girls.” She refused it and cried, “By Allah, O my son, I am not with thee for aught of this!”; however, he thanked her and answered, “There is no help but that thou accept of it.” So she took it and kissing his hands, returned home; and going in to the Princess, cried, “O my lady, I have brought thee somewhat the like whereof is not with the people of our city, and it cometh from a handsome young man, than whom there is not a goodlier on earth’s face!” She asked “O my nurse, and whence cometh the youth?” and the old woman answered, “From the parts of Hind; and he hath given me this dress of gold brocade, embroidered with pearls and gems and worth the Kingdom of Chosroes and Caesar.” Thereupon she opened the dress and the whole palace was illuminated by its brightness, because of the beauty of its fashion and the wealth of unions and jewels wherewith it was broidered, and all who were present marvelled at it. The Princess examined it and, judging it to be worth no less than a whole year’s revenue of her father’s kingdom, said to the old woman, “O my nurse, cometh this dress from him or from another?”2 Replied she, “From him;” and Hayat al-Nufus asked, “Is this trader of our town or a stranger?” The old woman answered, “He is a foreigner, O my lady, newly come hither; and by Allah he hath servants and slaves; and he is fair of face, symmetrical of form, well mannered, open-handed and open-hearted, never saw I a goodlier than he, save thyself.” The King’s daughter rejoined, “Indeed this is an extraordinary thing, that a dress like this, which money cannot buy, should be in the hands of a merchant! What price did he set on it, O my nurse?” Quoth she, “By Allah, he would set no price on it, but gave me back the money thou sentest by me and swore that he would take naught thereof, saying, ‘’Tis a gift from me to the King’s daughter; for it beseemeth none but her; and if she will not accept it, I make thee a present of it.’” Cried the Princess, “By Allah, this is indeed marvellous generosity and wondrous munificence! But I fear the issue of his affair, lest haply3 he be brought to necessity. Why didst thou not ask him, O my nurse, if he had any desire, that we might fulfil it for him?” The nurse replied, “O my lady, I did ask him, and he said to me, ‘I have indeed a desire’; but he would not tell me what it was. However, he gave me this letter and said, ‘Carry it to the Princess.’” So Hayat al-Nufus took the letter and opened and read it to the end; whereupon she was sore chafed; and lost temper and changing colour for anger she cried out to the old woman, saying, “Woe to thee, O nurse! What is the name of this dog who durst write this language to a King’s daughter? What affinity is there between me and this hound that he should address me thus? By Almighty Allah, Lord of the well Zemzem and of the Hatim Wall,4 but that I fear the Omnipotent, the Most High, I would send and bind the cur’s hands behind him and slit his nostrils, and shear off his nose and ears and after, by way of example, crucify him on the gate of the bazar wherein is his booth!” When the old woman heard these words, she waxed yellow; her side-muscles5 quivered and her tongue clave to her mouth; but she heartened her heart and said, “Softly, O my lady! What is there in his letter to trouble thee thus? Is it aught but a memorial containing his complaint to thee of poverty or oppression, from which he hopeth to be relieved by thy favour?” Replied she, “No, by Allah, O my nurse, ’tis naught of this; but verses and shameful words! However, O my nurse, this dog must be in one of three cases: either he is Jinn-mad, and hath no wit, or he seeketh his own slaughter, or else he is assisted to his wish of me by some one of exceeding puissance and a mighty Sultan. Or hath he heard that I am one of the baggages of the city, who lie a night or two with whosoever seeketh them, that he writeth me immodest verses to debauch my reason by talking of such matters?” Rejoined the old woman, “By Allah, O my lady, thou sayst sooth! But reck not thou of yonder ignorant hound, for thou art seated in thy lofty, firm-builded and unapproachable palace, to which the very birds cannot soar neither the wind pass over it, and as for him, he is clean distraught. Wherefore do thou write him a letter and chide him angrily and spare him no manner of reproof, but threaten him with dreadful threats and menace him with death and say to him, ‘Whence hast thou knowledge of me, that thou durst write me, O dog of a merchant, O thou who trudgest far and wide all thy days in wilds and wolds for the sake of gaining a dirham or a dinar? By Allah, except thou awake from thy sleep and put off thine intoxication, I will assuredly crucify thee on the gate of the market-street wherein is thy shop!’” Quoth the Princess, “I fear lest he presume, if I write to him”; and quoth the nurse, “And pray what is he and what is his rank that he should presume to us? Indeed, we write him but to the intent that his presumption may be cut off and his fear magnified.” And she ceased not craftily to persuade her, till she called for ink-case and paper and wrote him these couplets,
“O thou who claimest to be prey of love and ecstasy;
Thou, who for passion spendest nights in grief and saddest gree:
Say, dost thou (haughty one!) desire enjoyment of the moon?
Did man e’er sue the moon for grace whate’er his lunacy?
I verily will counsel thee with rede the best to hear:
Cut short this course ere come thou nigh sore risk, nay death, to dree!
If thou to this request return, surely on thee shall fall
Sore punishment, for vile offence a grievous penalty.
Be reasonable then, be wise, hark back unto thy wits;
Behold, in very truth I speak with best advice to thee:
By Him who did all things that be create from nothingness;
Who dressed the face of heaven with stars in brightest radiancy:
If in the like of this thy speech thou dare to sin again!
I’ll surely have thee crucified upon a trunk of tree.”
Then she rolled up the letter and gave it to the old woman who took it and, repairing to Ardashir’s shop, delivered it to him, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “samír,” one who enjoys the musámarah or night-talk outside the Arab tents. “Samar” is the shade of the moon, or half darkness when only stars shine without a moon, or the darkness of a moonless night. Hence the proverb (A. P. ii. 513) “Má af’al-hú al-samar wa’l kamar;” I will not do it by moondarkness or by moonshine, i.e. never. I have elsewhere remarked that “Early to bed and early to rise” is a civilised maxim; most barbarians sit deep into the night in the light of the moon or a camp-fire and will not rise till nearly noon. They agree in our modern version of the old saw:—
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man surly and gives him red eyes.
The Shayks of Arab tribes especially transact most of their public business during the dark hours.
2 Suspecting that it had been sent by some Royal lover.
3 Arab. “Rubbamá” a particle more emphatic than rubba,=perhaps, sometimes, often.
4 “The broken (wall)” from Hatim=breaking. It fences the Hijr or space where Ishmael is buried (vol. vi. 205); and I have described it in Pilgrimage iii. 165.
5 Arab. “Faráis” (plur. of farísah): the phrase has often occurred and is=our “trembled in every nerve.” As often happens in Arabic, it is “horsey;” alluding to the shoulder-muscles (not shoulder-blades, Preston p. 89) between neck and flank which readily quiver in blood-horses when excited or frightened.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman took that letter from Hayat al-Nufus she fared forth till she found the youth who was sitting in his shop and gave it to him, saying, “Read thine answer and know that when she perused thy paper she was wroth with exceeding wrath; but I soothed her and spake her fair, till she consented to write thee a reply.” He took the letter joyfully but, when he had read it and understood its drift, he wept sore, whereat the old woman’s heart ached and she cried, “O my son, Allah never cause thine eyes to weep nor thy heart to mourn! What can be more gracious than that she should answer thy letter when thou hast done what thou diddest?” He replied, “O my mother what shall I do for a subtle device? Behold, she writeth to me, threatening me with death and crucifixion and forbidding me from writing to her; and I, by Allah, see my death to be better than my life; but I beg thee of thy grace1 to carry her another letter from me.” She said, “Write and I warrant I’ll bring thee an answer. By Allah, I will assuredly venture my life to win for thee thy wish, though I die to pleasure thee!” He thanked her and kissing her hands, wrote these verses,
“Do you threaten me wi’ death for my loving you so well?
When Death to me were rest and all dying is by Fate?
And man’s death is but a boon, when so longsome to him grows
His life, and rejected he lives in lonest state:
Then visit ye a lover who hath ne’er a soul to aid;
For on pious works of men Heaven’s blessing shall await.
But an ye be resolved on this deed then up and on;
I’m in bonds to you, a bondsman confined within your gate:
What path have I whose patience without you is no more?
How is this, when a lover’s heart in stress of love is strait?
O my lady show me ruth, who by passion am misused;
For all who love the noble stand for evermore excused.”
He then folded the scroll and gave it to the old woman, together with two purses of two hundred dinars, which she would have refused, but he conjured her by oath to accept of them. So she took them both and said, “Needs must I bring thee to thy desire, despite the noses of thy foes.” Then she repaired to the palace and gave the letter to Hayat al-Nufus who said, “What is this, O my nurse? Here are we in a correspondence and thou coming and going! Indeed, I fear lest the matter get wind and we be disgraced.” Rejoined the old woman, “How so, O my lady? Who dare speak such word?” So she took the letter and after reading and understanding it she smote hand on hand, saying “Verily, this is a calamity which is fallen upon us, and I know not whence this young man came to us!” Quoth the old woman, “O my lady, Allah upon thee, write him another letter; but be rough with him this time and say to him, ‘An thou write me another word after this, I will have thy head struck off.’” Quoth the Princess, “O my nurse, I am assured that the matter will not end on such wise; ’twere better to break off this exchange of letters; and, except the puppy take warning by my previous threats, I will strike off his head.” The old woman said, “Then write him a letter and give him to know this condition.” So Hayat al-Nufus called for pen-case and paper and wrote these couplets,
‘Ho, thou heedless of Time and his sore despight!
Ho, thou heart whom hopes of my favours excite!
Think O pride-full! would’st win for thyself the skies?
Would’st attain to the moon shining clear and bright?
I will burn thee with fire that shall ne’er be quenched,
Or will slay thee with scymitar’s sharpest bite!
Leave it, friend, and ’scape the tormenting pains,
Such as turn hair — partings2 from black to white.
Take my warning and fly from the road of love;
Draw thee back from a course nor seemly nor right!”
Then she folded the scroll and gave it to the old woman, who was puzzled and perplexed by the matter. She carried it to Ardashir, and the Prince read the letter and bowed his head to the earth, making as if he wrote with his finger and speaking not a word. Quoth the old woman, “How is it I see thee silent stay and not say thy say?”; and quoth he, “O my mother, what shall I say, seeing that she doth but threaten me and redoubleth in hard — heartedness and aversion?” Rejoined the nurse, “Write her a letter of what thou wilt: I will protect thee; nor let thy heart be cast down, for needs must I bring you twain together.” He thanked her for her kindness and kissing her hand, wrote these couplets,
“A heart, by Allah! never soft to lover-wight,
Who sighs for union only with his friends, his sprite!
Who with tear-ulcered eyelids evermore must bide,
When falleth upon earth first darkness of the night:
Be just, be gen’rous, lend thy ruth and deign give alms
To love-molested lover, parted, forced to flight!
He spends the length of longsome night without a doze;
Fire-brent and drent in tear-flood flowing infinite:
Ah; cut not off the longing of my fondest heart
Now disappointed, wasted, flutt’ring for its blight.”
Then he folded the scroll and gave it to the old woman, together with three hundred dinars, saying, “This is for the washing of thy hands.” She thanked him and kissed his hands, after which she returned to the palace and gave the letter to the Princess, who took it and read it and throwing it from her fingers, sprang to her feet. Then she walked, shod as she was with pattens of gold, set with pearls and jewels, till she came to her sire’s palace, whilst the vein of anger started out between her eyes, and none dared ask her of her case. When she reached the palace, she enquired for the King, and the slave-girls and concubines replied to her, “O my lady, he is gone forth a-hunting and sporting.” So she returned, as she were a rending lioness, and bespake none for the space of three hours, when her brow cleared and her wrath cooled. As soon as the old woman saw that her irk and anger were past, she went up to her and, kissing ground between her hands, asked her, “O my lady, whither went those noble steps?” The Princess answered, “To the palace of the King my sire.” “And could no one do thine errand?” enquired the nurse. Replied the Princess, “No, for I went to acquaint him of that which hath befallen me with yonder cur of a merchant, so he might lay hands on him and on all the merchants of his bazar and crucify them over their shops nor suffer a single foreign merchant to tarry in our town.” Quoth the old woman, “And was this thine only reason, O my lady, for going to thy sire?”; and quoth Hayat al-Nufus, “Yes, but I found him absent a-hunting and sporting and now I await his return.” Cried the old nurse, “I take refuge with Allah, the All hearing, the All knowing! Praised be He! O my lady, thou art the most sensible of women and how couldst thou think of telling the King these fond words, which it behoveth none to publish?” Asked the Princess, “And why so?” and the nurse answered, “Suppose thou had found the King in his palace and told him all this tale and he had sent after the merchants and commanded to hang them over their shops, the folk would have seen them hanging and asked the reason and it would have been answered them, ‘They sought to seduce the King’s daughter.’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman said to the Princess, “Suppose thou had told this to the King and he had ordered the merchants to be hanged, would not folk have seen them and have asked the cause of the execution when the answer would have been, ‘They sought to seduce the King’s daughter?’ Then would they have dispread divers reports concerning thee, some saying, ‘She abode with them ten days, away from her palace, till they had taken their fill of her’; and other some in otherguise: for woman’s honour, O my lady, is like ourded milk, the least dust fouleth it; and like glass, which, if it be cracked, may not be mended. So beware of telling thy sire or any other of this matter, lest thy fair fame be smirched, O mistress mine, for ’twill never profit thee to tell folk aught; no, never! Weigh what I say with thy keen wit, and if thou find it not just, do whatso thou wilt.” The Princess pondered her words, and seeing them to be altogether profitable and right, said, “Thou speaketh sooth, O my nurse; but anger had blinded my judgment.” Quoth the old woman, “Thy resolve to tell no one is pleasing to the Almighty; but something remaineth to be done: we must not let the shamelessness of yonder vile dog of a merchant pass without notice. Write him a letter and say to him ‘O vilest of traders, but that I found the King my father absent, I had straightway commanded to hang thee and all thy neighbours. But thou shalt gain nothing by this; for I swear to thee, by Allah the Most High, that an thou return to the like of this talk, I will blot out the trace of thee from the face of earth!’ And deal thou roughly with him in words, so shalt thou discourage him in this attempt and arouse him from his heedlessness.” “And will these words cause him to abstain from his offending?” asked the Princess; and the old woman answered, “How should he not abstain? Besides, I will talk with him and tell him what hath passed.” So the Princess called for ink-case and paper and wrote these couplets,
“To win our favours still thy hopes are bent;
And still to win thy will art confident!
Naught save his pride-full aim shall slay a man;
And he by us shall die of his intent
Thou art no lord of might, no chief of men,
Nabob or Prince or Soldan Heaven-sent;
And were this deed of one who is our peer,
He had returned with hair for fear white-sprent:
Yet will I deign once more excuse thy sin
So from this time thou prove thee penitent.”
Then she gave the missive to the old woman, saying, “O my nurse, do thou admonish this puppy lest I be forced to cut off his head and sin on his account.” Replied the old woman, “By Allah, O my lady, I will not leave him a side to turn on!” Then she returned to the youth and, when salams had been exchanged, she gave him the letter. He read it and shook his head, saying, “Verily, we are Allah’s and unto him shall we return!” adding, “O my mother, what shall I do? My fortitude faileth me and my patience palleth upon me!” She replied, “O my son, be long — suffering: peradventure, after this Allah shall bring somewhat to pass. Write that which is in thy mind and I will fetch thee an answer, and be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear; for needs must I bring about union between thee and her — Inshallah!” He blessed her and wrote to the Princess a note containing these couplets,
“Since none will lend my love a helping hand,
And I by passion’s bale in death low-lain,
I bear a flaming fire within my heart
By day and night nor place of rest attain,
How cease to hope in thee, my wishes’ term?
Or with my longings to be glad and fain?
The Lord of highmost Heaven to grant my prayer
Pray I, whom love of lady fair hath slain;
And as I’m clean o’erthrown by love and fear,
To grant me speedy union deign, oh deign!”
Then he folded the scroll and gave it to the old woman, bringing out at the same time a purse of four hundred dinars. She took the whole and returning to the palace sought the Princess to whom she gave the letter; but the King’s daughter refused to take it and cried, “What is this?” Replied the old woman, “O my lady, this is only the answer to the letter thou sentest to that merchant dog.” Quoth Hayat al-Nufus, “Didst thou forbid him as I told thee?”; and quoth she, “Yes, and this is his reply.” So the Princess took the letter and read it to the end; then she turned to the old woman and exclaimed, “Where is the result of thy promise?” “O my lady, saith he not in his letter that he repenteth and will not again offend, excusing himself for the past?” “Not so, by Allah!: on the contrary, he increaseth.” “O my lady, write him a letter and thou shalt presently see what I will do with him.” “There needeth nor letter nor answer.” “I must have a letter that I may rebuke him roughly and cut off his hopes.” “Thou canst do that without a letter.” “I cannot do it without the letter.” So Hayat al-Nufus called for pen-case and paper and wrote these verses,
“Long have I chid thee but my chiding hindereth thee not
How often would my verse with writ o’ hand ensnare thee, ah!
Then keep thy passion hidden deep and ever unrevealed,
And if thou dare gainsay me Earth shall no more bear thee, ah!
And if, despite my warning, thou dost to such words return,
Death’s Messenger1 shall go his rounds and dead declare thee, ah!
Soon shall the wold’s fierce chilling blast o’erblow that corse o’ thine;
And birds o’ the wild with ravening bills and beaks shall tear thee, ah!
Return to righteous course; perchance that same will profit thee;
If bent on wilful aims and lewd I fain forswear thee, ah!”
When she had made an end of her writing this, she cast the writ from her hand in wrath, and the old woman picked it up and went with it to Ardashir. When he read it to the last he knew that she had not softened to him, but only redoubled in rage against him and that he would never win to meet her, so he bethought himself to write her an answer invoking Allah’s help against her. Thereupon he indited these couplets,
“O Lord, by the Five Shaykhs, I pray deliver me
From love, which gars me bear such grief and misery.
Thou knowest what I bear for passion’s fiery flame;
What stress of sickness for that merciless maid I dree.
She hath no pity on the pangs to me decreed;
How long on weakly wight shall last her tyranny?
I am distraught for her with passing agonies
And find no friend, O folk! to hear my plaint and plea.
How long, when Night hath drooped her pinions o’er the world,
Shall I lament in public as in privacy? For love of you I cannot find forgetfulness;
And how forget when Patience taketh wings to flee?
O thou wild parting-bird2 say is she safe and sure
From shift and change of time and the world’s cruelty?”
Then he folded the scroll and gave it to the old woman, adding a purse of five hundred dinars; and she took it and carried it to the Princess, who read it to the end and learned its purport. Then, casting it from her hand, she cried, “Tell me O wicked old woman, the cause of all that hath befallen me from thee and from thy cunning and thine advocacy of him, so that thou hast made me write letter after letter and thou ceasest not to carry messages, going and coming between us twain, till thou hast brought about a correspondence and a connection. Thou leavest not to say, ‘I will ensure thee against his mischief and cut off from thee his speech’; but thou speakest not thus save only to the intent that I may continue to write thee letters and thou to fetch and carry between us, evening and morning, till thou ruin my repute. Woe to thee! Ho, eunuchs, seize her!” Then Hayat al-Nufus commanded them to beat her, and they lashed her till her whole body flowed with blood and she fainted away, whereupon the King’s daughter caused her slave-women to drag her forth by the feet and cast her without the palace and bade one of them stand by her head till she recovered, and say to her, “The Princess hath sworn an oath that thou shalt never return to and re-enter this palace; and she hath commanded to slay thee without mercy an thou dare return hither.” So, when she came to herself, the damsel told her what the King’s daughter said and she answered, “Hearkening and obedience.” Presently the slave-girls fetched a basket and a porter whom they caused carry her to her own house; and they sent after her a physician, bidding him tend her assiduously till she recovered. He did what he was told to do and as soon as she was whole she mounted and rode to the shop of Ardashir who was concerned with sore concern for her absence and was longing for news of her. As soon as he saw her, he sprang up and coming to meet her, saluted her; then he noticed that she was weak and ailing; so he questioned her of her case and she told him all that had befallen her from her nursling. When he heard this, he found it grievous and smote hand upon hand, saying, “By Allah, O my mother, this that hath betided thee straiteneth my heart! But, what, O my mother, is the reason of the Princess’s hatred to men?” Replied the old woman, “Thou must know O my son, that she hath a beautiful garden, than which there is naught goodlier on earth’s face and it chanced that she lay there one night. In the joyance of sleep, she dreamt a dream and ’twas this, that she went down into the garden, where she saw a fowler set up his net and strew corn thereabout, after which he withdrew and sat down afar off to await what game should fall into it. Ere an hour had passed the birds flocked to pick up the corn and a male pigeon3 fell into the net and struggled in it, whereat all the others took fright and fled from him. His mate was amongst them, but she returned to him after the shortest delay; and, coming up to the net, sought out the mesh wherein his foot was entangled and ceased not to peck at it with her bill, till she severed it and released her husband, with whom she flew away. All this while, the fowler sat dozing, and when he awoke, he looked at the net and found it spoilt. So he mended it and strewed fresh grain, then withdrew to a distance and sat down to watch it again. The birds soon returned and began to pick up the corn, and among the rest the pair of pigeons. Presently, the she-pigeon fell into the net and struggled to get free; whereupon all the other birds flew away, and her mate, whom she had saved, fled with the rest and did not return to her. Meantime, sleep had again overcome the fowler; and, when he awoke after long slumbering, he saw the she-pigeon caught in the net; so he went up to her and freeing her feet from the meshes, cut her throat. The Princess startled by the dream awoke troubled, and said, ‘Thus do men with women, for women have pity on men and throw away their lives for them, when they are in difficulties; but if the Lord decree against a woman and she fall into calamity, her mate deserteth her and rescueth her not, and wasted is that which she did with him of kindness. Allah curse her who putteth her trust in men, for they ill requite the fair offices which women do them!’ And from that day she conceived an hatred to men.” Said the King’s son, “O my mother, doth she never go out into the highways?”; and the old woman replied, “Nay, O my son; but I will tell thee somewhat wherein, Allah willing, there shall be profit for thee. She hath a garden which is of the goodliest pleasaunces of the age; and every year, at the time of the ripening of the fruits, she goeth thither and taketh her pleasure therein only one day, nor layeth the night but in her pavilion. She entereth the garden by the private wicket of the palace which leadeth thereto; and thou must know that it wanteth now but a month to the time of her going forth. So take my advice and hie thee this very day to the keeper of that garden and make acquaintance with him and gain his good graces, for he admitteth not one of Allah’s creatures into the garth, because of its communication with the Princess’s palace. I will let thee know two days beforehand of the day fixed for her coming forth, when do thou repair to the garden, as of thy wont, and make shift to night there. When the King’s daughter cometh be thou hidden in some place or other”; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ná‘i al-maut”, the person sent round to announce a death to the friends and relations of the deceased and invite them to the funeral.
2 Arab. “Táir al-bayn”, any bird, not only the Hátim or black crow, which announces separation. Crows and ravens flock for food to the camps broken up for the springtide and autumnal marches, and thus become emblems of desertion and desolation. The same birds are also connected with Abel’s burial in the Koran (v. 34), a Jewish tradition borrowed by Mohammed. Lastly, here is a paranomasia in the words “Ghuráb al-Bayn”=Raven of the Wold (the black bird with white breast and red beak and legs): “Ghuráb” (Heb. Oreb) connects with Ghurbah=strangerhood, exile, and “Bayn” with distance, interval, disunion, the desert (between the cultivated spots). There is another and a similar pun anent the Bán-tree; the first word meaning “he fared, he left.”
3 Arab. “Tayr,” any flying thing, a bird; with true Arab carelessness the writer waits till the tale is nearly ended before letting us know that the birds are pigeons (Hamám).
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman charged the King’s son, saying, “I will let thee know two days beforehand of the King’s daughter going down to the garden: do thou hide thee in some place or other; and, when thou espiest her, come forth and show thyself to her. When she seeth thee, she will fall in love with thee; for thou art fair to look upon and love covereth all things. So keep thine eyes cool and clear1 and be of good cheer, O my son, for needs must I bring about union between thee and her.” The young Prince kissed her hand and thanked her and gave her three pieces of Alexandrian silk and three of satin of various colours, and with each piece, linen for shifts and stuff for trousers and a kerchief for the turband and fine white cotton cloth of Ba’albak for the linings, so as to make her six complete suits, each handsomer than its sister. Moreover, he gave her a purse containing six hundred gold pieces and said to her, “This is for the tailoring.” She took the whole and said to him, “O my son, art thou not pleased to acquaint me with thine abiding-place and I also will show thee the way to my lodging?” “Yes,” answered he and sent a Mameluke with her to note her home and show her his own house. Then he rose and bidding his slaves shut the shop, went back to the Wazir, to whom he related all that had passed between him and the old woman, from first to last. Quoth the Minister, “O my son, should the Princess Hayat al-Nufus come out and look upon thee and thou find no favour with her what wilt thou do?” Quoth Ardashir, “There will be nothing left but to pass from words to deeds and risk my life with her; for I will snatch her up from amongst her attendants and set her behind me on a swift horse and make for the wildest of the wold. If I escape, I shall have won my wish and if I perish, I shall be at rest from this hateful life.” Rejoined the Minister, “O my son, dost thou think to do this thing and live? How shall we make our escape, seeing that our country is far distant, and how wilt thou deal thus with a King of the Kings of the Age, who hath under his hand an hundred thousand horse, nor can we be sure but that he will despatch some of his troops to cut off our way? Verily, there is no good in this project which no wise man would attempt.” Asked Ardashir, “And how then shall we do, O Wazir of good counsel? For unless I win her I am a dead man without a chance.” The Minister answered, “Wait till to-morrow when we will visit this garden and note its condition and see what betideth us with the care-taker.” So when the morning morrowed they took a thousand dinars in a poke and, repairing to the garden, found it compassed about with high walls and strong, rich in trees and rill-full leas and goodly fruiteries. And indeed its flowers breathed perfume and its birds warbled amid the bloom as it were a garden of the gardens of Paradise. Within the door sat a Shaykh, an old man on a stone bench and they saluted him. When he saw them and noted the fairness of their favour, he rose to his feet after returning their salute, and said, “O my lords, perchance ye have a wish which we may have the honour of satisfying?” Replied the Wazir, “Know, O elder, that we are strangers and the heat hath overcome us: our lodging is afar off at the other end of the city; so we desire of thy courtesy that thou take these two dinars and buy us somewhat of provaunt and open us meanwhile the door of this flower-garden and seat us in some shaded place, where there is cold water, that we may cool ourselves there, against thy return with the provision, when we will eat, and thou with us, and then, rested and refreshed, we shall wend our ways.” So saying, he pulled out of his pouch a couple of dinars and put them into the keeper’s hand. Now this care-taker was a man aged three-score and ten, who had never in all his life possessed so much money: so, when he saw the two dinars in his hand, he was like to fly for joy and rising forthwith opened the garden gate to the Prince and the Wazir, and made them enter and sit down under a wide-spreading, fruit-laden, shade-affording tree, saying, “Sit ye here and go no further into the garden, for it hath a privy door communicating with the palace of the Princess Hayat al-Nufus.” They replied, “We will not stir hence.” Whereupon he went out to buy what they had ordered and returned after awhile, with a porter bearing on his head a roasted lamb and bread. They ate and drank together and talked awhile, till, presently, the Wazir, looking about him in all corners right and left, caught sight of a lofty pavilion at the farther end of the garden; but it was old and the plaster was peeled from its walls and its buttresses were broken down. So he said to the Gardener, “O Shaykh, is this garden thine own or dost thou hire it?”; and he replied, “I am neither owner nor tenant of the garden, only its care-taker.” Asked the Minister, “And what is thy wage?” whereto the old man answered, “A dinar a month,” and quoth the Wazir, “Verily they wrong thee, especially an thou have a family.” Quoth the elder, “By Allah, O my lord, I have eight children and I”— The Wazir broke in, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Thou makest me bear thy grief my poor fellow! What wouldst thou say of him who should do thee a good turn, on account of this family of thine?” Replied the old man, “O my lord, whatsoever good thou dost shall be garnered up for thee with God the Most High!” Thereupon said the Wazir, “O Shaykh, thou knowest this garden of thine to be a goodly place; but the pavilion yonder is old and ruinous. Now I mean to repair it and stucco it anew and paint it handsomely, so that it will be the finest thing in the garth; and when the owner comes and finds the pavilion restored and beautified, he will not fail to question thee concerning it. Then do thou say, ‘O my lord, at great expense I set it in repair, for that I saw it in ruins and none could make use of it nor could anyone sit therein.’ If he says, ‘Whence hadst thou the money for this?’ reply, ‘I spent of my own money upon the stucco, thereby thinking to whiten my face with thee and hoping for thy bounties.’ And needs must he recompense thee fairly over the extent of thine expenses. To-morrow I will bring builders and plasterers and painters to repair this pavilion and will give thee what I promised thee.” Then he pulled out of his poke a purse of five hundred dinars and gave it to the Gardener, saying, “Take these gold pieces and expend them upon thy family and let them pray for me and for this my son.” Thereupon the Prince asked the Wazir, “What is the meaning of all this?” and he answered, “Thou shalt presently see the issue thereof.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Karr’aynan.” The Arabs say, “Allah cool thine eye,” because tears of grief are hot and those of joy cool (Al–Asma’i); others say the cool eye is opposed to that heated by watching; and Al–Hariri (Ass. xxvii.) makes a scorching afternoon “hotter than the tear of a childless mother.” In the burning climate of Arabia coolth and refrigeration are equivalent to refreshment and delight.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir gave five hundred ducats to the old Gardener, saying, “Take these gold pieces and expend them upon thy family and let them pray for this my son,” the old man looked at the gold and his wits fled; so he fell down at the Wazir’s feet, kissing them and invoking blessings on him and his son; and when they went away, he said to them, “I shall expect you to-morrow: for by Allah Almighty, there must be no parting between us, night or day.” Next morning the Wazir went to the Prince’s shop and sent for the syndic of the builders; then he carried him and his men to the garth, where the Gardener rejoiced in their sight. He gave them the price of rations1 and what was needful to the work — men for the restoration of the pavilion, and they repaired it and stucco’d it and decorated it. Then said the Minister to the painters, “Harkye, my masters, listen to my words and apprehend my wish and my aim. Know that I have a garden like this, where I was sleeping one night among the nights and saw in a dream a fowler set up nets and sprinkle corn thereabout. The birds flocked to pick up the grain, and a cock-bird fell into the net, whereupon the others took fright and flew away, and amongst the rest his mate; but, after awhile, she returned alone and picked at the mesh that held his feet, till she set him free and they flew away together. Now the fowler had fallen asleep and, when he awoke, he found the net empty; so he mended it and strewing fresh grain sat down afar off, waiting for game to fall into that snare. Presently the birds assembled again to pick up the grains, and amongst the rest the two pigeons. By-and-by, the hen-bird fell into the net, when all the other birds took fright at her and flew away, and her husband flew with them and did not return; whereupon the fowler came up and taking the quarry, cut her throat. Now, when her mate flew away with the others, a bird of raven seized him and slew him and ate his flesh and drank his blood, and I would have you pourtray me the presentment of this my dream, even as I have related it to you, in the liveliest colours, laying the fair scene in this rare garden, with its walls and trees and rills, and dwell especially on the fowler and the falcon. If ye do this I have set forth to you and the work please me, I will give you what shall gladden your hearts, over and above your wage.” The painters, hearing these words, applied themselves with all diligence to do what he required of them and wrought it out in masterly style; and when they had made an end of the work, they showed it to the Wazir who, seeing his so-called dream set forth as it was2 was pleased and thanked them and rewarded them munificently. Presently, the Prince came in, according to his custom, and entered the pavilion, unweeting what the Wazir had done. So when he saw the portraiture of the fowler and the birds and the net and beheld the male pigeon in the clutches of the hawk, which had slain him and was drinking his blood and eating his flesh, his understanding was confounded and he returned to the Minister and said, “O Wazir of good counsel, I have seen this day a marvel which, were it graven with needle-gravers on the eye-corners would be a warner to whoso will be warned?” Asked the Minister, “And what is that, O my lord?”; and the Prince answered, “Did I not tell thee of the dream the Princess had and how it was the cause of her hatred for men?” “Yes,” replied the Wazir; and Ardashir rejoined, “By Allah, O Minister, I have seen the whole dream pourtrayed in painting, as I had eyed it with mine own eyes; but I found therein a circumstance which was hidden from the Princess, so that she saw it not, and ’tis upon this that I rely for the winning of my wish.” Quoth the Wazir, “And what is that, O my son?”; and quoth the Prince, “I saw that, when the male bird flew away; and, leaving his mate entangled in the net, failed to return and save her, a falcon pounced on him and slaying him, ate his flesh and drank his blood. Would to Heaven the Princess had seen the whole of the dream and had beheld the cause of his failure to return and rescue her!” Replied the Wazir, “By Allah, O auspicious King, this is indeed a rare thing and a wonderful!” And the King’s son ceased not to marvel at the picture and lament that the King’s daughter had not beheld the dream to its end, saying in himself, “Would she had seen it to the last or might see the whole over again, though but in the imbroglio of sleep!” Then quoth the Wazir to him, “Thou saidst to me, ‘Why wilt thou repair the pavilion?’; and I replied, ‘Thou shalt presently see the issue thereof.’ And behold, now its issue thou seest; for it was I did this deed and bade the painters pourtray the Princess’s dream thus and paint the male bird in the pounces of the falcon which eateth his flesh and drinketh his blood; so that when she cometh to the pavilion, she will behold her dream depicted and see how the cock-pigeon was slain and excuse him and turn from her hate for men.” When the Prince heard the Wazir’s words, he kissed his hands and thanked him, saying, “Verily, the like of thee is fit to be Minister to the most mighty King, and, by Allah, an I win my wish and return to my sire, rejoicing, I will assuredly acquaint him with this, that he may redouble in honouring thee and advance thee in dignity and hearken to thine every word.” So the Wazir kissed his hand and they both went to the old Gardener and said, “Look at yonder pavilion and see how fine it is!” And he replied, “This is all of your happy thought.” Then said they, “O elder, when the owners of the place question thee concerning the restoration of the pavilion, say thou, ‘’Twas I did it of my own monies’; to the intent that there may betide thee fair favour and good fortune.” He said, “I hear and I obey”; and the Prince continued to pay him frequent visits. Such was the case with the Prince and the Wazir; but as regards Hayat al-Nufus, when she ceased to receive the Prince’s letters and messages and when the old woman was absent from her, she rejoiced with joy exceeding and concluded that the young man had returned to his own country. One day, there came to her a covered tray from her father; so she uncovered it and finding therein fine fruits, asked her waiting-women, “Is the season of these fruits come?” Answered they, “Yes.” Thereupon she cried, “Would we might make ready to take our pleasure in the flower-garden!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Muunah,” the “Mona” of Maroccan travellers (English not Italian who are scandalised by “Mona”) meaning the provisions supplied gratis by the unhappy villagers to all who visit them with passport from the Sultan. Our cousins German have lately scored a great success by paying for all their rations which the Ministers of other nations, England included, were mean enough to accept.
2 Arab. “Kaannahu huwa”; lit.=as he (was) he. This reminds us of the great grammarian, Sibawayh, whose name the Persians derive from “Apple-flavour”(Sib + bú). He was disputing, in presence of Harun al-Rashid with a rival Al–Kisá’í, and advocated the Basrian form, “Fa-izá huwa hú” (behold, it was he) against the Kufan, “Fa-izá huwa iyyáhu” (behold, it was him). The enemy overcame him by appealing to Badawin, who spoke impurely, whereupon Sibawayh left the court, retired to Khorasan and died, it is said of a broken heart.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Princess, after receiving the fruit from her sire, asked, “Is the season of these fruits set in?”; and they answered, “Yes!” Thereupon she cried, “Would we might make ready to take our pleasure in the flower-garden!” “O my lady,” they replied, “thou sayest well, and by Allah, we also long for the garden!” So she enquired, “How shall we do, seeing that every year it is none save my nurse who taketh us to walk in the garden and who pointeth out to us the various trees and plants; and I have beaten her and forbidden her from me? Indeed, I repent me of what was done by me to her, for that, in any case, she is my nurse and hath over me the right of fosterage. But there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” When her handmaids heard this, they all sprang up; and, kissing the ground between her hands, exclaimed, “Allah upon thee, O my lady, do thou pardon her and bid her to the presence!”; and quoth she, “By Allah, I am resolved upon this; but which of you will go to her, for I have prepared her a splendid robe of honour?” Hereupon two damsels came forward, by name Bulbul and Siwad al-‘Ayn, who were comely and graceful and the principals among the Princess’s women, and her favourites. And they said, “We will go to her, O King’s daughter!”; and she said, “Do what seemeth good to you.” So they went to the house of the nurse and knocked at the door and entered; and she, recognising the twain, received them with open arms and welcomed them. When they had sat awhile with her, they said to her, “O nurse, the Princess pardoneth thee and desireth to take thee back into favour.” She replied, “This may never be, though I drink the cup of ruin! Hast thou forgotten how she put me to shame before those who love me and those who hate me, when my clothes were dyed with my blood and I well nigh died for stress of beating, and after this they dragged me forth by the feet, like a dead dog, and cast me without the door? So by Allah, I will never return to her nor fill my eyes with her sight!” Quoth the two girls, “Disappoint not our pains in coming to thee nor send us away unsuccessful. Where is thy courtesy uswards? Think but who it is that cometh in to visit thee: canst thou wish for any higher of standing than we with the King’s daughter?” She replied, “I take refuge with Allah: well I wot that my station is less than yours; were it not that the Princess’s favour exalted me above all her women, so that, were I wroth with the greatest of them, she had died in her skin of fright.” They rejoined, “All is as it was and naught is in anywise changed. Indeed, ’tis better than before, for the Princess humbleth herself to thee and seeketh a reconciliation without intermediary.” Said the old woman, “By Allah, were it not for your presence and intercession with me, I had never returned to her; no, not though she had commanded to slay me!” They thanked her for this and she rose and dressing herself accompanied them to the palace. Now when the King’s daughter saw her, she sprang to her feet in honour, and the old woman said, “Allah! Allah! O King’s daughter, say me, whose was the fault, mine or thine?” Hayat al-Nufus replied, “The fault was mine, and ’tis thine to pardon and forgive. By Allah, O my nurse, thy rank is high with me and thou hast over me the right of fosterage; but thou knowest that Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath allotted to His creatures four things, disposition, life, daily bread and death; nor is it in man’s power to avert that which is decreed. Verily, I was beside myself and could not recover my senses; but, O my nurse, I repent of what deed I did.” With this, the crone’s anger ceased from her and she rose and kissed the ground before the Princess, who called for a costly robe of honour and threw it over her, whereat she rejoiced with exceeding joy in the presence of the Princess’s slaves and women. When all ended thus happily, Hayat al-Nufus said to the old woman, “O my nurse, how go the fruits and growths of our garth?”; and she replied, “O my lady, I see excellent fruits in the town; but I will enquire of this matter and return thee an answer this very day.” Then she withdrew, honoured with all honour and betook herself to Ardashir, who received her with open arms and embraced her and rejoiced in her coming, for that he had expected her long and longingly. She told him all that had passed between herself and the Princess and how her mistress was minded to go down into the garden on such a day. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman betook herself to the Prince and told him all that had passed between herself and the Princess Hayat al-Nufus; and how her mistress was minded to go down into the garden on such a day and said to him, “Hast thou done as I bade thee with the Warder of the garden and hast thou made him taste of thy bounties?” He replied, “Yes, and the oldster is become my good friend: my way is his way and he would well I had need of him.” Then he told her all that had happened and of the dream-paintings which the Wazir had caused to be limned in the pavilion; especially of the fowler, the net and the falcon: whereat she joyed with great joy and said, “Allah upon thee, do thou set thy Minister mid — most thy heart, for this that he hath done pointeth to the keenness of his wit and he hath helped thee to the winning thy wish. So rise forthright, O my son, and go to the Hammam-bath and don thy daintiest dress, wherein may be our success. Then fare thou to the Gardener and make shift to pass the night in the garden, for though he should give the earth full of gold none may win to pass into it, whilst the King’s daughter is therein. When thou hast entered, hide thee where no eye may espy thee and keep concealed till thou hear me cry, ‘O Thou whose boons are hidden, save us from that we fear!’ Then come forth from thine ambush and walk among the trees and show thy beauty and loveliness which put the moons to shame, to the intent that Princess Hayat al-Nufus may see thee and that her heart and soul may be filled with love of thee; so shalt thou attain to thy wish and thy grief be gone.” “To hear is to obey,” replied the young Prince and gave her a purse of a thousand dinars, which she took and went away. Thereupon Ardashir fared straight for the bath and washed; after which he arrayed himself in the richest of robes of the apparel of the Kings of the Chosroes and girt his middle with a girdle wherein were conjoined all manner precious stones and donned a turband inwoven with red gold and purfled with pearls and gems. His cheeks shone rosy-red and his lips were scarlet; his eyelids like the gazelle’s wantoned; like a wine-struck wight in his gait he swayed; beauty and loveliness garbed him, and his shape shamed the bowing of the bough. Then he put in his pocket a purse containing a thousand dinars and, repairing to the flower-garden, knocked at the door. The Gardener opened to him and rejoicing with great joy salamed to him in most worshipful fashion; then, observing that his face was overcast, he asked him how he did. The King’s son answered, “Know, O elder, that I am dear to my father and he never laid his hand on me till this day, when words arose between us and he abused me and smote me on the face and struck me with his staff and drave me away. Now I have no friend to turn to and I fear the perfidy of Fortune, for thou knowest that the wrath of parents is no light thing. Wherefore I come to thee, O uncle, seeing that to my father thou art known, and I desire of thy favour that thou suffer me abide in the garden till the end of the day, or pass the night there, till Allah grant good understanding between myself and my sire.” When the old man heard these words he was concerned anent what had occurred and said, “O my lord, dost thou give me leave to go to thy sire and be the means of reconciliation between thee and him?” Replied Ardashir, “O uncle, thou must know that my father is of impatient nature, and irascible; so an thou proffer him reconciliation in his heat of temper he will make thee no answer; but when a day or two shall have passed, his heat will soften. Then go thou in to him and thereupon he will relent.” “Hearkening and obedience,” quoth the Gardener; “But, O my lord, do thou come with me to my house, where thou shalt night with my children and my family and none shall reproach this to us.” Quoth Ardashir, “O uncle, I must be alone when I am angry.”1 The old man said, “It irketh me that thou shouldst lie solitary in the garden, when I have a house.” But Ardashir said, “O uncle, I have an aim in this, that the trouble of my mind may be dispelled from me and I know that in this lies the means of regaining his favour and softening his heart to me.” Rejoined the Gardener, “I will fetch thee a carpet to sleep on and a coverlet wherewith to cover thee;” and the Prince said, “There is no harm in that, O uncle.” So the keeper rose and opened the garden to him, and brought him the carpet and coverlet, knowing not that the King’s daughter was minded to visit the garth. On this wise fared it with the Prince; but as regards the nurse, she returned to the Princess and told her that the fruits were kindly ripe on the garden trees; whereupon she said, “O my nurse, go down with me to-morrow into the garden, that we may walk about in it and take our pleasure — Inshallah; and send meanwhile to the Gardener, to let him know what we purpose.” So she sent to the Gardener to say, “The Princess will visit the parterre to-morrow, so leave neither water-carriers nor tree-tenders therein, nor let one of Allah’s creatures enter the garth.” When word came to him, he set his water-ways and channels in order and, going to Ardashir, said to him, “O my lord, the King’s daughter is mistress of this garden; and I have only to crave thy pardon, for the place is thy place and I live only in thy favours, except that my tongue is under thy feet.2 I must tell thee that the Princess Hayat al-Nufus hath a mind to visit it to-morrow at the first of the day and hath bidden me leave none therein who might look upon her. So I would have thee of thy favour go forth of the garden this day, for the Queen will abide only in it till the time of mid-afternoon prayer and after it shall be at thy service for se’nnights and fortnights, months and years.” Ardashir asked, “O elder, haply we have caused thee some mishap?”; and the other answered, “By Allah, O my lord, naught hath betided me from thee but honour!” Rejoined the Prince, “An it be so, nothing but all good shall befal thee through us; for I will hide in the garden and none shall espy me, till the King’s daughter hath gone back to her palace.” Said the Gardener, “O my lord, an she espy the shadow of a man in the garden or any of Allah’s male creatures she will strike off my head;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is a sign of the Saudáwí or melancholic temperament in which black bile pre-dominates. It is supposed to cause a distaste for society and a longing for solitude, an unsettled habit of mind and neglect of worldly affairs. I remarked that in Arabia students are subject to it, and that amongst philosophers and literary men of Mecca and Al–Medinah there was hardly one who was not spoken of as a “Saudawi.” See Pilgrimage ii. 49, 50.
2 i.e. I am a servant and bound to tell thee what my orders are.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Gardener said to the Prince, “An the King’s daughter espy the shadow of a man in her garden, she will strike off my head;” the youth replied, “Have no fear, I will on no wise let any see me. But doubtless to-day thou lackest of spending-money for thy family.” Then he put his hand to his purse and pulled out five hundred ducats, which he gave to him saying, “Take this gold and lay it out on thy family, that thy heart may be at ease concerning them.” When the Shaykh looked upon the gold, his life seemed a light thing to him1 and he suffered the Prince to tarry where he was, charging him straitly not to show himself in the garden. Then he left him loitering about. Meanwhile, when the eunuchs went in to the Princess at break of day, she bade open the private wicket leading from the palace to the parterres and donned a royal robe, embroidered with pearls and jewels and gems, over a shift of fine silk purfled with rubies. Under the whole was that which tongue refuseth to explain, whereat was confounded the brain and whose love would embrave the craven’s strain. On her head she set a crown of red gold, inlaid with pearls and gems and she tripped in pattens of cloth of gold, embroidered with fresh pearls2 and adorned with all manner precious stones. Then she put her hand upon the old woman’s shoulder and commanded to go forth by the privy door; but the nurse looked at the garden and, seeing it full of eunuchs and handmaids walking about, eating the fruits and troubling the streams and taking their ease of sport and pleasure in the water said to the Princess, “O my lady, is this a garden or a madhouse?” Quoth the Princess, “What meaneth thy speech, O nurse?”; and quoth the old woman, “Verily the garden is full of slave-girls and eunuchs, eating of the fruits and troubling the streams and scaring the birds and hindering us from taking our ease and sporting and laughing and what not else; and thou hast no need of them. Wert thou going forth of thy palace into the highway, this would be fitting, as an honour and a ward to thee; but, now, O my lady, thou goest forth of the wicket into the garden, where none of Almighty Allah’s creatures may look on thee.” Rejoined the Princess, “By Allah, O nurse mine, thou sayst sooth! But how shall we do?”; and the old woman said, “Bid the eunuchs send them all away and keep only two of the slave-girls, that we may make merry with them. So she dismissed them all, with the exception of two of her handmaids who were most in favour with her. But when the old woman saw that her heart was light and that the season was pleasant to her, she said to her, “Now we can enjoy ourselves aright: so up and let us take our pleasance in the garden.” The Princess put her hand upon her shoulder and went out by the private door. The two waiting-women walked in front and she followed them laughing at them and swaying gracefully to and fro in her ample robes; whilst the nurse forewent her, showing her the trees and feeding her with fruits; and so they fared on from place to place, till they came to the pavilion, which when the King’s daughter beheld and saw that it had been restored, she asked the old woman, “O my nurse, seest thou yonder pavilion? It hath been repaired and its walls whitened.” She answered, “By Allah, O my lady, I heard say that the keeper of the garden had taken stuffs of a company of merchants and sold them and bought bricks and lime and plaster and stones and so forth with the price; so I asked him what he had done with all this, and he said, ‘I have repaired the pavilion which lay in ruins,’ presently adding, ‘And when the merchants sought their due of me, I said to them, ‘Wait ‘till the Princess visit the garden and see the repairs and they satisfy her; then will I take of her what she is pleased to bestow on me, and pay you what is your due.’ Quoth I, ‘What moved thee to do this thing?’; and quoth he, ‘I saw the pavilion in ruins, the coigns thrown down and the stucco peeled from the walls, and none had the grace to repair it; so I borrowed the coin on my own account and restored the place; and I trust in the King’s daughter to deal with me as befitteth her dignity.’ I said, ‘The Princess is all goodness and generosity and will no doubt requite thee.’ And he did all this but in hopes of thy bounty.” Replied the Princess, “By Allah, he hath dealt nobly in rebuilding it and hath done the deed of generous men! Call me my purse-keeperess.” The old woman accordingly fetched the purse-keeperess, whom the Princess bade give the Gardener two thousand dinars; whereupon the nurse sent to him, bidding him to the presence of the King’s daughter. But when the messenger said to him, “Obey the Queen’s order,” the Gardener felt feeble and, trembling in every joint, said in himself, “Doubtless, the Princess hath seen the young man, and this day will be the most unlucky of days for me.” So he went home and told his wife and children what had happened and gave them his last charges and farewelled them, while they wept for and with him. Then he presented himself before the Princess, with a face the colour of turmeric and ready to fall flat at full length. The old woman remarked his plight and hastened to forestall him, saying “O Shaykh, kiss the earth in thanksgiving to Almighty Allah and be constant in prayer to Him for the Princess. I told her what thou didst in the matter of repairing the ruined pavilion, and she rejoiceth in this and bestoweth on thee two thousand dinars in requital of thy pains; so take them from the purse-keeperess and kiss the earth before the King’s daughter and bless her and wend thy way.” Hearing these words he took the gold and kissed the ground before Hayat al-Nufus, calling down blessings on her. Then he returned to his house, and his family rejoiced in him and blessed him3 who had been the prime cause of this business. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A touching lesson on how bribes settle matters in the East.
2 i.e. fresh from water (Arab. “Rutub”), before the air can tarnish them. The pearl (margarita) in Arab. is Lu’lu’; the “unio” or large pearl Durr, plur. Durar. In modern parlance Durr is the second quality of the twelve into which pearls are divided.
3 i.e. the Wazir, but purposely left vague.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Care-taker took the two thousand ducats from the Princess and returned to his house, all his family rejoiced in him and blessed him who had been the prime cause of this business. Thus it fared with these; but as regards the old woman, she said to the Princess, “O my lady, this is indeed become a fine place! Never saw I a purer white than its plastering nor properer than its painting! I wonder if he have also repaired it within: else hath he made the outside white and left the inside black. Come, let us enter and inspect.” So they went in, the nurse preceding, and found the interior painted and gilded in the goodliest way. The Princess looked right and left, till she came to the upper end of the estrade, when she fixed her eyes upon the wall and gazed long and earnestly thereat; whereupon the old woman knew that her glance had lighted on the presentment of her dream and took the two waiting-women away with her, that they might not divert her mind. When the King’s daughter had made an end of examining the painting, she turned to the old woman, wondering and beating hand on hand, and said to her, “O my nurse, come, see a wondrous thing which were it graven with needle-gravers on the eye corners would be a warner to whoso will be warned.” She replied, “And what is that, O my lady?”; when the Princess rejoined, “Go, look at the upper end of the estrade, and tell me what thou seest there.” So she went up and considered the dream-drawing: then she came down, wondering, and said, “By Allah, O my lady, here is depicted the garden and the fowler and his net and the birds and all thou sawest in thy dream; and verily, nothing but urgent need withheld the male pigeon from returning to free his mate after he had fled her, for I see him in the talons of a bird of raven which hath slaughtered him and is drinking his blood and rending his flesh and eating it; and this, O my lady, caused his tarrying to return and rescue her from the net. But, O my mistress, the wonder is how thy dream came to be thus depicted, for, wert thou minded to set it forth in painture, thou hadst not availed to portray it. By Allah, this is a marvel which should be recorded in histories! Surely, O my lady, the angels appointed to attend upon the sons of Adam, knew that the cock-pigeon was wronged of us, because we blamed him for deserting his mate; so they embraced his cause and made manifest his excuse; and now for the first time we see him in the hawk’s pounces a dead bird.” Quoth the Princess, “O my nurse, verily, Fate and Fortune had course against this bird, and we did him wrong.” Quoth the nurse, “O my mistress, foes shall meet before Allah the Most High: but, O my lady, verily, the truth hath been made manifest and the male pigeon’s excuse certified to us; for had the hawk not seized him and drunk his blood and rent his flesh he had not held aloof from his mate, but had returned to her, and set her free from the net; but against death there is no recourse, nor, O my lady, is there aught in the world more tenderly solicitous than the male for the female, among all creatures which Almighty Allah hath created. And especially ’tis thus with man; for he starveth himself to feed his wife, strippeth himself to clothe her, angereth his family to please her and disobeyeth and denieth his parents to endow her. She knoweth his secrets and concealeth them and she cannot endure from him a single hour.1 An he be absent from her one night, her eyes sleep not, nor is there a dearer to her than he: she loveth him more than her parents and they lie down to sleep in each other’s arms, with his hand under her neck and her hand under his neck, even as saith the poet,
‘I made my wrist her pillow and I lay with her in litter;
And I said to Night ‘Be long!’ while the full moon showed glitter:
Ah me, it was a night, Allah never made its like;
Whose first was sweetest sweet and whose last bitt’rest bitter!’2
Then he kisseth her and she kisseth him; and I have heard of a certain King that, when his wife fell sick and died, he buried himself alive with her, submitting himself to death, for the love of her and the strait companionship which was between them. Moreover, a certain King sickened and died, and when they were about to bury him, his wife said to her people: ‘Let me bury myself alive with him: else will I slay myself and my blood shall be on your heads.’ So, when they saw she would not be turned from this thing, they left her, and she cast herself into the grave with her dead husband, of the greatness of her love and tenderness for him.” And the old woman ceased not to ply the Princess with anecdotes of conjugal love between men and women, till there ceased that which was in her heart of hatred for the sex masculine; and when she felt that she had succeeded in renewing in her the natural inclination of woman to man, she said to her, “’Tis time to go and walk in the garden.” So they fared forth from the pavilion and paced among the trees. Presently the Prince chanced to turn and his eyes fell on Hayat al-Nufus; and when he saw the symmetry of her shape and the rosiclearness of her cheeks and the blackness of her eyes and her exceeding grace and her passing loveliness and her excelling beauty and her prevailing elegance and her abounding perfection, his reason was confounded and he could not take his eyes off her. Passion annihilated his right judgment and love overpassed all limits in him; his vitals were occupied with her service and his heart was aflame with the fire of repine, so that he swooned away and fell to the ground. When he came to himself, she had passed from his sight and was hidden from him among the trees; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Prince Ardashir, who lay hid in the garden, saw the Princess and her nurse walking amongst the trees, he swooned away for very love-longing. When he came to himself Hayat al-Nufus had passed from his sight and was hidden from him among the trees; so he sighed from his heart-core and improvised these couplets,
“Whenas mine eyes behold her loveliness,
My heart is torn with love’s own ecstasy.
I wake o’erthrown, castdown on face of earth
Nor can the Princess1 my sore torment see.
She turned and ravished this sad Love-thrall’d sprite;
Mercy, by Allah, ruth; nay, sympathy!
O Lord, afford me union, deign Thou soothe
My soul, ere grave-niche house this corse of me;
I’ll kiss her ten times ten times, and times ten
For lover’s wasted cheek the kisses be!”
The old woman ceased not to lead the Princess a-pleasuring about the garden, till they reached the place where the Prince lay ambushed, when, behold she said, “O Thou whose bounties are hidden, vouchsafe us assurance from that we fear!” The King’s son hearing the signal, left his lurking-place and, surprised by the summons, walked among the trees, swaying to and fro with a proud and graceful gait and a shape that shamed the branches. His brow was crowned with pearly drops and his cheeks red as the afterglow, extolled be Allah the Almighty in that He hath created! When the King’s daughter caught sight of him, she gazed a long while on him and noticed his beauty and grace and loveliness and his eyes that wantoned like the gazelle’s, and his shape that outvied the branches of the myrobalan; wherefore her wits were confounded and her soul captivated and her heart transfixed with the arrows of his glances. Then she said to the old woman, “O my nurse, whence came yonder handsome youth?”; and the nurse asked, “Where is he, O my lady?” “There he is,” answered Hayat al-Nufus; “near hand, among the trees.” The old woman turned right and left, as if she knew not of his presence, and cried, “And pray, who can have taught this youth the way into this garden?” Quoth Hayat al-Nufus, “Who shall give us news of the young man? Glory be to Him who created men! But say me, dost thou know him, O my nurse?” Quoth the old woman, “O my lady, he is the young merchant who wrote to thee by me.” The Princess (and indeed she was drowned in the sea of her desire and the fire of her passion and love-longing) broke out, “O my nurse, how goodly is this youth! Indeed he is fair of favour. Methinks, there is not on the face of earth a goodlier than he!” Now when the old woman was assured that the love of him had gotten possession of the Princess, she said to her, “Did I not tell thee, O my lady, that he was a comely youth with a beaming favour?” Replied Hayat al-Nufus, “O my nurse, King’s daughters know not the ways of the world nor the manners of those that be therein, for that they company with none, neither give they nor take they. O my nurse, how shall I do to bring about a meeting and present myself to him, and what shall I say to him and what will he say to me?” Said the old woman, “What device is left me? Indeed, we were confounded in this matter by thy behaviour”; and the Princess said, “O my nurse, know thou that if any ever died of passion, I shall do so, and behold, I look for nothing but death on the spot by reason of the fire of my love-longing.” When the old woman heard her words and saw the transport of her desire for him, she answered, “O my lady, now as for his coming to thee, there is no way thereto; and indeed thou art excused from going to him, because of thy tender age; but rise with me and follow me. I will accost him: so shalt thou not be put to shame, and in the twinkling of an eye affection shall ensue between you.” The King’s daughter cried, “Go thou before me, for the decree of Allah may not be rejected.” Accordingly they went up to the place where Ardashir sat, as he were the full moon at its fullest, and the old woman said to him, “See O youth, who is present before thee! ’Tis the daughter of our King of the age, Hayat al-Nufus: bethink thee of her rank and appreciate the honour she doth thee in coming to thee and rise out of respect for her and stand before her.” The Prince sprang to his feet in an instant and his eyes met her eyes, whereupon they both became as they were drunken without wine. Then the love of him and desire redoubled upon the Princess and she opened her arms and he his, and they embraced; but love-longing and passion overcame them and they swooned away and fell to the ground and lay a long while without sense. The old woman, fearing scandalous exposure, carried them both into the pavilion, and, sitting down at the door, said to the two waiting-women, “Seize the occasion to take your pleasure in the garden, for the Princess sleepeth.” So they returned to their diversion. Presently the lovers revived from their swoon and found themselves in the pavilion, whereat quoth the Prince, “Allah upon thee, O Princess of fair ones, is this vision or sleep-illusion?” Then the twain embraced and intoxicated themselves without wine, complaining each to other of the anguish of passion; and the Prince improvised these couplets,
“Sun riseth sheen from her brilliant brow,
And her cheek shows the rosiest afterglow:
And when both appear to the looker-on,
The skyline star ne’er for shame will show:
An the leven flash from those smiling lips,
Morn breaks and the rays dusk and gloom o’erthrow.
And when with her graceful shape she sways,
Droops leafiest Ban-tree2 for envy low:
Me her sight suffices; naught crave I more:
Lord of Men and Morn, be her guard from foe!
The full moon borrows a part of her charms;
The sun would rival but fails his lowe.
Whence could Sol aspire to that bending grace?
Whence should Luna see such wit and such mind-gifts know?
Who shall blame me for being all love to her,
‘Twixt accord and discord aye doomed to woe:
’Tis she won my heart with those forms that bend
What shall lover’s heart from such charms defend?”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 English “Prin’cess,” too often pronounced in French fashion Princess.
2 In dictionaries “Bán” (Anglice ben-tree) is the myrobalan which produces gum benzoin. It resembles the tamarisk. Mr. Lyall (p. 74 Translations of Ancient Arab Poetry, Williams and Norgate, 1885), calls it a species of Moringa, tall, with plentiful and intensely green foliage used for comparisons on account of its straightness and graceful shape of its branches. The nut supplies a medicinal oil.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Prince had made an end of his verses, the Princess strained him to her bosom and kissed him on the mouth and between the eyes; whereupon his soul returned to him and he fell to complaining to her of that he had endured for stress of love and tyranny of longing and excess of transport and distraction and all he had suffered for the hardness of her heart. Hearing those words she kissed his hands and feet and bared her head,1 whereupon the gloom gathered and the full moons dawned therein. Then said she to him, “O my beloved and term of all my wishes, would the day of estrangement had never been and Allah grant it may never return between us!” And they embraced and wept together, whilst she recited these couplets,
“O who shamest the Moon and the sunny glow:
Thou whose slaught’ring tyranny lays me low;
With the sword of a look thou hast shorn my heart,
How escape thy sword-glance fatal of blow?
Thus eke are thine eyebrows a bow that shot
My bosom with shafts of fiercest lowe:
From thy cheeks’ rich crop cometh Paradise;
How, then, shall my heart the rich crop forego?
Thy graceful shape is a blooming branch,
And shall pluck the fruits who shall bear that bough.
Perforce thou drawest me, robst my sleep;
In thy love I strip me and shameless show:2
Allah lend thee the rays of most righteous light,
Draw the farthest near and a tryst bestow:
Then have ruth on the vitals thy love hath seared,
And the heart that flies to thy side the mo’e!”
And when she ended her recitation, passion overcame her and she was distraught for love and wept copious tears, rain-like streaming down. This burnt the Prince’s heart and he in turn became troubled and distracted for love of her. So he drew nearer to her and kissed her hands and wept with sore weeping and they ceased not from lover-reproaches and converse and versifying, until the call to mid-afternoon prayer (nor was there aught between them other than this), when they bethought them of parting and she said to him, “O light of mine eyes and core of my heart, the time of severance has come between us twain: when shall we meet again?” “By Allah,” replied he (and indeed her words shot him as with shafts), “to mention of parting I am never fain!” Then she went forth of the pavilion, and he turned and saw her sighing sighs would melt the rock and weeping shower-like tears; whereupon he for love was sunken in the sea of desolation and improvised these couplets,
“O my heart’s desire! grows my misery
From the stress of love, and what cure for me?
By thy face, like dawn when it lights the dark,
And thy hair whose hue beareth night-tide’s blee,
And thy form like the branch which in grace inclines
To Zephyr’s3 breath blowing fain and free,
By the glance of thine eyes like the fawn’s soft gaze,
When she views pursuer of high degree,
And thy waist down borne by the weight of hips,
These so heavy and that lacking gravity,
By the wine of thy lip-dew, the sweetest of drink,
Fresh water and musk in its purity,
O gazelle of the tribe, ease my soul of grief,
And grant me thy phantom in sleep to see!”
Now when she heard his verses in praise of her, she turned back to him and embracing him, with a heart on fire for the anguish of severance, fire which naught save kisses and embraces might quench, cried, “Sooth the byword saith, Patience is for a lover and not the lack thereof. There is no help for it but I contrive a means for our reunion.” Then she farewelled him and fared forth, knowing not where she set her feet, for stress of her love; nor did she stay her steps till she found herself in her own chamber. When she was gone, passion and love-longing redoubled upon the young Prince and the delight of sleep was forbidden him, and the Princess in her turn tasted not food and her patience failed and she sickened for desire. As soon as dawned the day, she sent for the nurse, who came and found her condition changed and she cried, “Question me not of my case; for all I suffer is due to thy handiwork. Where is the beloved of my heart?” “O my lady, when did he leave thee? Hath he been absent from thee more than this night?” “Can I endure absence from him an hour? Come, find some means to bring us together speedily, for my soul is like to flee my body.” “O my lady, have patience till I contrive thee some subtle device, whereof none shall be ware.” “By the Great God, except thou bring him to me this very day, I will tell the King that thou hast corrupted me, and he will cut off thy head!” “I conjure thee, by Allah, have patience with me, for this is a dangerous matter!” And the nurse humbled herself to her, till she granted her three days’ delay, saying, “O my nurse, the three days will be three years to me; and if the fourth day pass and thou bring him not, I will go about to slay thee.” So the old woman left her and returned to her lodging, where she abode till the morning of the fourth day, when she summoned the tirewomen of the town and sought of them fine dyes and rouge for the painting of a virgin girl and adorning; and they brought her cosmetics of the best. Then she sent for the Prince and, opening her chest, brought out a bundle containing a suit of woman’s apparel, worth five thousand dinars, and a head-kerchief fringed with all manner gems. Then said she to him, “O my son, hast thou a mind to foregather with Hayat al-Nufus?”; and he replied, “Yes.” So she took a pair of tweezers and pulled out the hairs of his face and pencilled his eyes with Kohl.4 Then she stripped him and painted him with Henna5 from his nails to his shoulders and from his insteps to his thighs and tattooed6 him about the body, till he was like red roses upon alabaster slabs. After a little, she washed him and dried him and bringing out a shift and a pair of petticoat-trousers made him put them on. Then she clad him in the royal suit aforesaid and, binding the kerchief about his head, veiled him and taught him how to walk, saying, “Advance thy left and draw back thy right.” He did her bidding and forewent her, as he were a Houri faring abroad from Paradise. Then said she to him, “Fortify thy heart, for thou art going to the King’s palace, where there will without fail be guards and eunuchs at the gate; and if thou be startled at them and show doubt or dread, they will suspect thee and examine thee, and we shall both get into grievous trouble and haply lose our lives: wherefore an thou feel thyself unable to this, tell me.” He answered, “In very sooth this thing hath no terrors for me, so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear.” Then she went out preceding him till the twain came to the palace-gate, which was full of eunuchs. She turned and looked at him, as much as to say, “Art thou troubled or no?” and finding him all unchanged, went on. The chief eunuch glanced at the nurse and knew her but, seeing a damsel following her, whose charms confounded the reason, he said in his mind, “As for the old woman, she is the nurse; but as for the girl who is with her there is none in our land resembleth her in favour or approacheth her in fairness save the Princess Hayat al-Nufus, who is secluded and never goeth out. Would I knew how she came into the streets and would Heaven I wot whether or no ’twas by leave of the King!” Then he rose to learn somewhat concerning her and well nigh thirty castratos followed him; which when the old woman saw, her reason fled for fear and she said, “Verily, we are Allah’s and to Him we shall return! Without recourse we are dead folk this time.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A sign of extreme familiarity: the glooms are the hands and the full moons are the eyes.
2 Arab. “Khal’a al-‘izár”: lit.=stripping off jaws or side-beard.
3 Arab. “Shimál”=the north wind.
4 An operation well described by Juvenal —
Illa supercilium, modicâ fuligine tactum,
Obliquâ producit acu, pingitque, trementes
Attolens oculos.
Sonnini (Travels in Egypt, chapt. xvi.) justly remarks that this pencilling the angles of the eyes with Kohl, which the old Levant trade called alquifoux or arquifoux, makes them appear large and more oblong; and I have noted that the modern Egyptian (especially Coptic) eye, like that of the Sphinx and the old figures looks in profile as if it were seen in full. (Pilgrimage i. 214.)
5 The same traveller notes a singular property in the Henna-flower that when smelt closely it exhales a “very powerful spermatic odour,” hence it became a favourite with women as the tea-rose with us. He finds it on the nails of mummies, and identifies it with the Kupros of the ancient Greeks (the moderns call it Kene or Kena) and the (Botrus cypri) of Solomon’s Song (i. 14). The Hebr. is “Copher,” a well-known word which the A. V. translates by “a cluster of camphire (?) in the vineyards of En-gedi”; and a note on iv. 13 ineptly adds, “or, cypress.” The Revised Edit. amends it to “a cluster of henna-flowers.” The Solomonic (?) description is very correct; the shrub affects vineyards, and about Bombay forms fine hedges which can be smelt from a distance.
6 Hardly the equivalent of the Arab. “Kataba” (which includes true tattooing with needles) and is applied to painting “patches” of blue or green colour, with sprigs and arabesques upon the arms and especially the breasts of women. “Kataba” would also be applied to striping the fingers with Henna which becomes a shining black under a paste of honey, lime and sal-ammoniac. This “patching” is alluded to by Strabo and Galen (Lane M. E. chapt. ii.); and we may note that savages and barbarians can leave nothing of beauty unadorned; they seem to hate a plain surface like the Hindu silversmith, whose art is shown only in chasing.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old nurse saw the head of the eunuchry and his assistants making for her she was in exceeding fear and cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily we are God’s and unto him we shall return; without recourse we be dead folk this time.” When the head eunuch heard her speak thus, fear gat hold upon him, by reason of that which he knew of the Princess’s violence and that her father was ruled by her, and he said to himself, “Belike the King hath commanded the nurse to carry his daughter forth upon some occasion of hers, whereof she would have none know; and if I oppose her, she will be wroth with me and will say, ‘This eunuch fellow stopped me, that he might pry into my affairs.’ So she will do her best to kill me, and I have no call to meddle in this matter.” So saying, he turned back, and with him the thirty assistants who drove the people from the door of the palace; whereupon the nurse entered and saluted the eunuchs with her head, whilst all the thirty stood to do her honour and returned her salam. She led in the Prince and he ceased not following her from door to door, and the Protector protected them, so that they passed all the guards, till they came to the seventh door: it was that of the great pavilion, wherein was the King’s throne, and it communicated with the chambers of his women and the saloons of the Harim, as well as with his daughter’s pavilion. So the old woman halted and said, “Here we are, O my son, and glory be to Him who hath brought us thus far in safety! But, O my son, we cannot foregather with the Princess except by night; for night enveileth the fearful.” He replied, “True, but what is to be done?” Quoth she, “Hide thee in this black hole,” showing him behind the door a dark and deep cistern, with a cover thereto. So he entered the cistern, and she went away and left him there till ended day, when she returned and carried him into the palace, till they came to the door of Hayat al-Nufus’s apartment. The old woman knocked and a little maid came out and said, “Who is at the door?” Said the nurse, “’Tis I,” whereupon the maid returned and craved permission of her lady, who said, “Open to her and let her come in with any who may accompany her.” So they entered and the nurse, casting a glance around, perceived that the Princess had made ready the sitting-chamber and ranged the lamps in row and lighted candles of wax in chandeliers of gold and silver and spread the divans and estrades with carpets and cushions. Moreover, she had set on trays of food and fruits and confections and she had perfumed the place with musk and aloes-wood and ambergris. She was seated among the lamps and the tapers and the light of her face outshone the lustre of them all. When she saw the old woman, she said to her, “O nurse, where is the beloved of my heart?”; and the other replied, “O my lady, I cannot find him nor have mine eyes espied him, but I have brought thee his own sister; and here she is.” Cried the Princess, “Art thou Jinn-mad? What need have I of his sister? Say me, an a man’s head irk him, doth he bind up his hand?” The old woman answered, “No, by Allah, O my lady! But look on her, and if she pleases thee, let her be with thee.” Then she uncovered the Prince’s face, whereupon Hayat al-Nufus knew him and running to him, pressed him to her bosom, and he pressed her to his breast. Then they both fell down in a swoon and lay without sense a long while. The old woman sprinkled rose-water upon them till they came to themselves, when she kissed him on the mouth more than a thousand times and improvised these couplets,
“Sought me this heart’s dear love at gloom of night;
I rose in honour till he sat forthright,
And said, ‘O aim of mine, O sole desire
In such night-visit hast of guards no fright?’
Replied he, ‘Yes, I feared much, but Love
Robbed me of all my wits and reft my sprite.’
We clipt with kisses and awhile clung we,
For here ’twas safe; nor feared we watchman-wight:
Then rose we parting without doubtful deed
And shook out skirts where none a stain could sight.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when her lover visited Hayat al-Nufus in her palace, the twain embraced and she improvised some happy couplets beseeming the occasion. And when she had ended her extempore lines she said, “Is it indeed true that I see thee in my abode and that thou art my cup-mate and my familiar?” Then passion grew on her and love was grievous to her, so that her reason well-nigh fled for joy and she improvised these couplets,
“With all my soul I’ll ransom him who came to me in gloom
Of night, whilst I had waited long to see his figure loom;
And naught aroused me save his weeping voice of tender tone
And whispered I, ‘Fair fall thy foot and welcome and well come!’
His cheek I kissed a thousand times, and yet a thousand more;
Then clipt and clung about his breast enveiled in darkling room.
And cried, ‘Now verily I’ve won the aim of every wish
So praise and prayers to Allah for this grace now best become.’
Then slept we even as we would the goodliest of nights
Till morning came to end our night and light up earth with bloom.”
As soon as it was day, she made him enter a place in her apartment unknown to any and he abode there till nightfall, when she brought him out and they sat in converse and carouse. Presently he said to her, “I wish to return to my own country and tell my father what hath passed between us, that he may equip his Wazir to demand thee in marriage of thy sire.” She replied, “O my love, I fear, an thou return to thy country and kingdom, thou wilt be distracted from me and forget the love of me; or that thy father will not further thy wishes in this matter and I shall die. Meseems the better rede were that thou abide with me and in my hand-grasp, I looking on thy face, and thou on mine, till I devise some plan, whereby we may escape together some night and flee to thy country; for I have cut off my hopes from my own people and I despair of them.” He rejoined, “I hear and obey;” and they fell again to their carousal and conversing. He tarried with her thus for some time till, one night, the wine was pleasant to them and they lay not down nor did they sleep till break of day. Now it chanced that one of the Kings sent her father a present, and amongst other things, a necklace of union jewels, nine-and-twenty grains, to whose price a King’s treasures might not suffice. Quoth Abd al-Kadir, “This riviere beseemeth none but my daughter Hayat al-Nufus;” and, turning to an eunuch, whose jaw-teeth the Princess had knocked out for reasons best known to herself,1 he called to him and said, “Carry the necklace to thy lady and say to her, ‘One of the Kings hath sent thy father this, as a present, and its price may not be paid with money; put it on thy neck.’” The slave took the necklace, saying in himself, “Allah Almighty make it the last thing she shall put on in this world, for that she deprived me of the benefit of my grinder-teeth!”; and repairing to the Princess’s apartment, found the door locked and the old woman asleep before the threshold. He shook her, and she awoke in affright and asked, “What dost thou want?”; to which he answered, “The King hath sent me on an errand to his daughter.” Quoth the nurse, “The key is not here, go away, whilst I fetch it;” but quoth he, “I cannot go back to the King without having done his commandment.” So she went away, as if to fetch the key; but fear overtook her and she sought safety in flight. Then the eunuch awaited her awhile; then, finding she did not return, he feared that the King would be angry at his delay; so he rattled at the door and shook it, whereupon the bolt gave way and the leaf opened. He entered and passed on, till he came to the seventh door and walking in to the Princess’s chamber found the place splendidly furnished and saw candles and flagons there. At this spectacle he marvelled and going close up to the bed, which was curtained by a hanging of silk, embroidered with a net-work of jewels, drew back the curtain from before the Princess and saw her sleeping with her arms about the neck of a young man handsomer than herself; whereat he magnified Allah Almighty, who had created such a youth of vile water, and said, “How goodly be this fashion for one who hateth men! How came she by this fellow? Methinks ’twas on his account that she knocked out my back teeth!” Then he drew the curtain and made for the door; but the King’s daughter awoke in affright and seeing the eunuch, whose name was Kafur, called to him. He made her no answer: so she came down from the bed on the estrade; and catching hold of his skirt laid it on her head and kissed his feet, saying, “Veil what Allah veileth!” Quoth he, “May Allah not veil thee nor him who would veil thee! Thou didst knock out my grinders and saidst to me, ‘Let none make mention to me aught of men and their ways!’” So saying, he disengaged himself from her grasp and running out, locked the door on them and set another eunuch to guard it. Then he went in to the King who said to him “Hast thou given the necklace to Hayat al-Nufus?” The eunuch replied, “By Allah, thou deservest altogether a better fate;” and the King asked, “What hath happened? Tell me quickly;” whereto he answered, “I will not tell thee, save in private and between our eyes,” but the King retorted, saying, “Tell me at once and in public.” Cried the eunuch, “Then grant me immunity.” So the King threw him the kerchief of immunity and he said, “O King, I went into the Princess Hayat al-Nufus and found her asleep in a carpeted chamber and on her bosom was a young man. So I locked the door upon the two and came back to thee.” When the King heard these words he started up and taking a sword in his hand, cried out to the Rais of the eunuchs, saying, “Take thy lads and go to the Princess’s chamber and bring me her and him who is with her as they twain lie on the bed; but cover them both up.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A violent temper, accompanied with voies de fait and personal violence, is by no means rare amongst Eastern princesses; and terrible tales are told in Persia concerning the daughters of Fath Ali Shah. Few men and no woman can resist the temptations of absolute command. The daughter of a certain Dictator all-powerful in the Argentine Republic was once seen on horseback with a white bridle of peculiar leather; it was made of the skin of a man who had boasted of her favours. The slave-girls suffer first from these masterful young persons and then it is the turn of the eunuchry.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King commanded the head eunuch to take his lads and to fetch and set before him Hayat al-Nufus and him who was with her, the chief and his men entered the Princess’s apartment where he found her standing up, dissolved in railing tears, and the Prince by her side; so he said to them, “Lie down on the bed, as thou wast and let him do likewise.” The King’s daughter feared for her lover1 and said to him, “This is no time for resistance.” So they both lay down and the eunuchs covered them up and carried the twain into the King’s presence. Thereupon Abd al-Kadir pulled off the coverings and the Princess sprang to her feet. He looked at her and would have smitten her neck: but the Prince threw himself on the father’s breast, saying, “The fault was not hers but mine only: kill me before thou killest her.” The King made at him, to cut him down, but Hayat al-Nufus cast herself on her father and said, “Kill me not him; for he is the son of a great King, lord of all the land in its length and breadth.” When the King heard this, he turned to the Chief Wazir, who was a gathering-place of all that is evil, and said to him, “What sayst thou of this matter, O Minister?” Quoth his Wazir, “What I say is that all who find themselves in such case as this have need of lying, and there is nothing for it but to cut off both their heads, after torturing them with all manner of tortures.” Hereupon the King called his sworder of vengeance, who came with his lads, and said to him, “Take this gallows bird and strike off his head and after do the like with this harlot and burn their bodies, and consult me not about them a second time.” So the headsmen put his hand to her back, to take her; but the King cried out at him and cast at him somewhat he hent in hand, which had well-nigh killed him, saying, “O dog, how durst thou show ruth to those with whom I am wroth? Put thy hand to her hair and drag her along by it, so that she may fall on her face.” Accordingly he haled her by her hair and the Prince in like manner to the place of blood, where he tore off a piece of his skirt and therewith bound the Prince’s eyes putting the Princess last, in the hope that some one would intercede for her. Then, having made ready the Prince he swung his sharp sword three times (whilst all the troops wept and prayed Allah to send them deliverance by some intercessor), and raised his hand to cut off Ardashir’s head when, behold, there arose a cloud of dust, that spread and flew till it veiled the view. Now the cause thereof was that when the young Prince had delayed beyond measure, the King, his sire, had levied a mighty host and had marched with it in person to get tidings of his son. Such was his case; but as regards King Abd al-Kadir, when he saw this, he said, “O wights, what is the meaning of yonder dust that dimmeth sights?” The Grand Wazir sprang up and went out to reconnoitre and found behind the cloud men like locusts, of whom no count could be made nor aught avail of aid, filling the hills and plains and valleys. So he returned with the report to the King, who said to him, “Go down and learn for us what may be this host and the cause of its marching upon our country. Ask also of their commander and salute him for me and enquire the reason of his coming. An he came in quest of aught, we will aid him, and if he have a blood-feud with one of the Kings, we will ride with him; or, if he desire a gift, we will handsel him; for this is indeed a numerous host and a power uttermost, and we fear for our land from its mischief.” So the Minister went forth and walked among the tents and troopers and body-guards, and ceased not faring on from the first of the day till near sundown, when he came to the warders with gilded swords in tents star-studded. Passing these, he made his way through Emirs and Wazirs and Nabobs and Chamberlains, to the pavilion of the Sultan, and found him a mighty King. When the King’s officers saw him, they cried out to him, saying, “Kiss ground! Kiss ground!”2 He did so and would have risen, but they cried out at him a second and a third time. So he kissed the earth again and again and raised his head and would have stood up, but fell down at full length for excess of awe. When at last he was set between the hands of the King he said to him, “Allah prolong thy days and increase thy sovranty and exalt thy rank, O thou auspicious King! And furthermore, of a truth, King Abd al-Kadir saluteth thee and kisseth the earth before thee and asketh on what weighty business thou art come. An thou seek to avenge thee for blood on any King, he will take horse in thy service; or, an thou come in quest of aught, wherein it is in his power to help thee, he standeth up at thy service on account thereof.” So Ardashir’s father replied to the Wazir, saying, “O messenger, return to thy lord and tell him that the most mighty King Sayf al-A’azam Shah, Lord of Shiraz, had a son who hath been long absent from him and news of him have not come and all traces of him have been cut off. An he be in this city, he will take him and depart from you; but, if aught have befallen him or any mischief have ensued to him from you, his father will lay waste your land and make spoil of your goods and slay your men and seize your women. Return, therefore, to thy lord in haste and tell him this, ere evil befal him.” Answered the Minister, “To hear is to obey!” and turned to go away, when the Chamberlains cried out to him, saying, “Kiss ground! Kiss ground!” So he kissed the ground a score of times and rose not till his life-breath was in his nostrils.3 Then he left the King’s high court and returned to the city, full of anxious thought concerning the affair of this King and the multitude of his troops, and going in to King Abd al-Kadir, pale with fear and trembling in his side-muscles, acquainted him with that had befallen him; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir returned from the court of the Great King, pale with fear and with side-muscles quivering for dread exceeding; and acquainted his lord with that had befallen him. Hereat disquietude and terror for himself and for his people laid hold upon him and he said to the Minister, “O Wazir, and who is this King’s son?” Replied the other, “’Tis even he whom thou badest put to death, but praised be Allah who hastened not his slaughter! Else had his father wasted our lands and spoiled our good.” Quoth the King “See now thy corrupt judgment, in that thou didst counsel us to slay him! Where is the young man, the son of yonder magnanimous King?” And quoth the Wazir, “O mighty King, thou didst command him be put to death.” When the King heard this, he was clean distraught and cried out from his heart’s core and in-most of head, saying, “Woe to you! Fetch me the Heads — man forthright, lest death fall on him!” So they fetched the Sworder and he said, “0 King of the Age, I have smitten off his head even as thou badest me.” Cried Abd al-Kadir “O dog, an this be true, I will assuredly send thee after him.” The Heads — man replied, “O King, thou didst command me to slay him without consulting thee a second time.” Said the King, “I was in my wrath; but speak the truth, ere thou lose thy life;” and said the Sworder, “O King, he is yet in the chains of life.” At this Abd al-Kadir rejoiced and his heart was set at rest; then he called for Ardashir, and when he came, he stood up to receive him and kissed his mouth, saying, “O my son, I ask pardon of Allah Almighty for the wrong I have done thee, and say thou not aught that may lower my credit with thy sire, the Great King.” The Prince asked “O King of the Age, and where is my father?” and the other answered, “He is come hither on thine account.” Thereupon quoth Ardashir, “By thy worship, I will not stir from before thee till I have cleared my honour and the honour of thy daughter from that which thou laidest to our charge; for she is a pure virgin. Send for the midwives and let them examine her before thee. An they find her maidenhead gone, I give thee leave to shed my blood; and if they find her a clean maid, her innocence of dishonour and mine also will be made manifest.” So he summoned the midwives, who examined the Princess and found her a pure virgin and so told the King, seeking largesse of him. He gave them what they sought, putting off his royal robes to bestow on them, and in like manner he was bountiful to all who were in the Harim. And they brought forth the scent-cups and perfumed all the Lords of estate and Grandees; and not one but rejoiced with exceeding joy. Then the King threw his arms about Ardashir’s neck and entreated him with all worship and honour, bidding his chief eunuchs bear him to the bath. When he came out, he cast over his shoulders a costly robe and crowned him with a coronet of jewels; he also girt him with a girdle of silk, purfled with red gold and set with pearls and gems, and mounted him on one of his noblest mares, with selle and trappings of gold inlaid with pearls and jewels. Then he bade his Grandees and Captains mount on his service and escort him to his father’s presence; and charged him tell his sire that King Abd al-Kadir was at his disposal, hearkening to and obeying him in whatso he should bid or forbid. “I will not fail of this,” answered Ardashir and farewelling him, repaired to his father who, at sight of him, was transported for delight and springing up, advanced to meet him and embraced him, whilst joy and gladness spread among all the host of the Great King. Then came the Wazirs and Chamberlains and Captains and guards and kissed the ground before the Prince and rejoiced in his coming: and it was a great day with them for enjoyment, for the King’s son gave leave to those of King Abd al-Kadir’s officers who had accompanied him and others of the townsfolk, to view the ordinance of his father’s host, without let or stay, so they might know the multitude of the Great King’s troops and the might of his empire. And all who had seen him selling stuffs in the linendrapers’ bazar marvelled how his soul could have consented thereto, considering the nobility of his spirit and the loftiness of his dignity; but it was his love and inclination to the King’s daughter that to this had constrained him. Meanwhile, news of the multitude of her lover’s troops came to Hayat al-Nufus, who was still jailed by her sire’s commandment, till they knew what he should order respecting her, whether pardon and release or death and burning; and she looked down from the terrace-roof of the palace and, turning towards the mountains, saw even these covered with armed men. When she beheld all those warriors and knew that they were the army of Ardashir’s father, she feared lest he should be diverted from her by his sire and forget her and depart from her, whereupon her father would slay her. So she called a handmaid that was with her in her apartment by way of service, and said to her, “Go to Ardashir, son of the Great King, and fear not. When thou comest into his presence, kiss the ground before him and tell him what thou art and say to him, ‘My lady saluteth thee and would have thee to know that she is a prisoner in her father’s palace, awaiting his sentence, whether he be minded to pardon her or put her to death, and she beseecheth thee not to forget her or forsake her; for to-day thou art all-powerful; and, in whatso thou commandest, no man dare cross thee. Wherefore, an it seem good to thee to rescue her from her sire and take her with thee, it were of thy bounty, for indeed she endureth all these trials for thy sake. But, an this seem not good to thee, for that thy desire of her is at an end, still speak to thy sire, so haply he may intercede for her with her father and he depart not, till he have made him set her free and taken surety from and made covenant with him, that he will not go about to put her to death nor work her aught of harm. This is her last word to thee, may Allah not desolate her of thee, and so The Peace!’”1 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Very artful is the contrast of the love-lorn Princess’s humility with her furious behaviour, in the pride of her purity, while she was yet a virginette and fancy free.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the bondmaid sent by Hayat al-Nufus made her way to Ardashir and delivered him her lady’s message, which when he heard, he wept with sore weeping and said to her, “Know that Hayat al-Nufus is my mistress and that I am her slave and the captive of her love. I have not forgotten what was between us nor the bitterness of the parting day; so do thou say to her, after thou hast kissed her feet, that I will speak with my father of her, and he shall send his Wazir, who sought her aforetime in marriage for me, to demand her hand once more of her sire, for he dare not refuse. So, if he send to her to consult her, let her make no opposition; for I will not return to my country without her.” Then the handmaid returned to Hayat al-Nufus; and, kissing her hands, delivered to her the message, which when she heard, she wept for very joy and returned thanks to Almighty Allah. Such was her case; but as regards Ardashir, he was alone with his father that night and the Great King questioned him of his case, whereupon he told him all that had befallen him, first and last. Then quoth the King, “What wilt thou have me do for thee, O my son? An thou desire Abd al-Kadir’s ruin, I will lay waste his lands and spoil his hoards and dishonour his house.” Replied Ardashir, “I do not desire that, O my father, for he hath done nothing to me deserving thereof; but I wish for union with her; wherefore I beseech thee of thy favour to make ready a present for her father (but let it be a magnificent gift!) and send it to him by thy Minister, the man of just judgment.” Quoth the King, “I hear and consent;” and sending for the treasures he had laid up from time past, brought out all manner precious things and showed them to his son, who was pleased with them. Then he called his Wazir and bade him bear the present with him1 to King Abd al-Kadir and demand his daughter in marriage for Ardashir, saying, “Accept the present and return him a reply.” Now from the time of Ardashir’s departure, King Abd al-Kadir had been troubled and ceased not to be heavy at heart, fearing the laying waste of his reign and the spoiling of his realm; when behold, the Wazir came in to him and saluting him, kissed ground before him. He rose up standing and received him with honour; but the Minister made haste to fall at his feet and kissing them cried, “Pardon, O King of the Age! The like of thee should not rise to the like of me, for I am the least of servants’ slaves. Know, O King, that Prince Ardashir hath acquainted his father with some of the favours and kindnesses thou hast done him, wherefore he thanketh thee and sendeth thee in company of thy servant who standeth before thee, a present, saluting thee and wishing thee especial blessings and prosperities.” Abd al-Kadir could not believe what he heard of the excess of his fear, till the Wazir laid the present before him, when he saw it to be such gift as no money could purchase nor could one of the Kings of the earth avail to the like thereof; wherefore he was belittled in his own eyes and springing to his feet, praised Almighty Allah and glorified Him and thanked the Prince. Then said the Minister to him, “O noble King, give ear to my word and know that the Great King sendeth to thee, desiring thine alliance, and I come to thee seeking and craving the hand of thy daughter, the chaste dame and treasured gem Hayat al-Nufus, in wedlock for his son Ardashir, wherefore, if thou consent to this proposal and accept of him, do thou agree with me for her marriage-portion.” Abd al-Kadir hearing these words replied, “I hear and obey. For my part, I make no objection, and nothing can be more pleasurable to me; but the girl is of full age and reason and her affair is in her own hand. So be assured that I will refer it to her and she shall choose for herself.” Then he turned to the chief eunuch and bade him go and acquaint the Princess with the event. So he repaired to the Harim and, kissing the Princess’s hands, acquainted her with the Great King’s offer adding, “What sayest thou in answer?” “I hear and I obey,” replied she. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Suhbat-hu” lit.=in company with him, a popular idiom in Egypt and Syria. It often occurs in the Bresl. Edit.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the chief eunuch of the Harim having informed the Princess how she had been demanded in marriage by the Great King and having heard her reply, “I hear and I obey,” returned therewith to the King and gave him this answer, whereat he rejoiced with exceeding joy and, calling for a costly robe of honour, threw it over the Wazir’s shoulders. Furthermore, he ordered him ten thousand dinars and bade him carry the answer to the Great King and crave leave for him to pay him a visit. “Hearing and obeying,” answered the Minister; and, returning to his master, delivered him the reply and Abd al-Kadir’s message, and repeated all their talk, whereat he rejoiced greatly and Ardashir was transported for delight and his breast broadened and he was a most happy man. King Sayf al-A’azam also gave King Abd al-Kadir leave to come forth to visit him; so, on the morrow, he took horse and rode to the camp of the Great King, who came to meet him and saluting him, seated him in the place of honour, and gave him welcome; and they two sat whilst Ardashir stood before them. Then arose an orator of the King Abd al-Kadir’s court and pronounced an eloquent discourse, giving the Prince joy of the attainment of his desire and of his marriage with the Princess, a Queen among King’s daughters. When he sat down the Great King caused bring a chest full of pearls and gems, together with fifty thousand dinars, and said to King Abd al-Kadir, “I am my son’s deputy in all that concerneth this matter.” So Abd al-Kadir acknowledged receipt of the marriage-portion and amongst the rest, fifty thousand dinars for the nuptial festivities; after which they fetched the Kazis and the witnesses, who wrote out the contract of marriage between the Prince and Princess, and it was a notable day, wherein all lovers made merry and all haters and enviers were mortified. They spread the marriage-feasts and banquets and lastly Ardashir went in unto the Princess and found her a jewel which had been hidden, an union pearl unthridden and a filly that none but he had ridden, so he notified this to his sire. Then King Sayf al-A’azam asked his son, “Hast thou any wish thou wouldst have fulfilled ere we depart?”; and he answered, “Yes, O King, know that I would fain take my wreak of the Wazir who entreated us on evil wise and the eunuch who forged a lie against us.” So the King sent forthright to Abd al-Kadir, demanding of him the Minister and the castrato, whereupon he despatched them both to him and he commanded to hang them over the city gate. After this, they abode a little while and then sought of Abd al-Kadir leave for his daughter to equip her for departure. So he equipped her and mounted her in a Takhtrawan, a travelling litter of red gold, inlaid with pearls and gems and drawn by noble steeds. She carried with her all her waiting-women and eunuchs, as well as the nurse, who had returned, after her flight, and resumed her office. Then King Sayf al-A’azam and his son mounted and Abd al-Kadir mounted also with all the lords of his land, to take leave of his son-in-law and daughter; and it was a day to be reckoned of the goodliest of days. After they had gone some distance, the Great King conjured Abd al-Kadir to turn back; so he farewelled him and his son, after he had strained him to his breast and kissed him between the eyes and thanked him for his grace and favours and commended his daughter to his care. Then he went in to the Princess and embraced her; and she kissed his hands and they wept in the standing-place of parting. After this he returned to his capital and Ardashir and his company fared on, till they reached Shiraz, where they celebrated the marriage-festivities anew. And they abode in all comfort and solace and joyance of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and Severer of societies; the Depopulator of palaces and the Garnerer of graveyards. And men also relate the tale of
There was once in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, in Ajam-land a King Shahrimán1 hight, whose abiding place was Khorásán. He owned an hundred concubines, but by none of them had he been blessed with boon of child, male or female, all the days of his life. One day, among the days, he bethought him of this and fell lamenting for that the most part of his existence was past and he had not been vouchsafed a son to inherit the kingdom after him, even as he had inherited it from his fathers and forebears; by reason whereof there betided him sore cark and care and chagrin exceeding. As he sat thus one of his Mamelukes came in to him and said, “O my lord, at the door is a slave girl with her merchant, and fairer than she eye hath never seen.” Quoth the King, “Hither to me with merchant and maid!”; and both came in to him. Now when Shahriman beheld the girl, he saw that she was like a Rudaynian lance,2 and she was wrapped in a veil of gold-purfled silk. The merchant uncovered her face, whereupon the place was illumined by her beauty and her seven tresses hung down to her anklets like horses’ tails. She had Nature kohl’d eyes, heavy hips and thighs and waist of slenderest guise, her sight healed all maladies and quenched the fire of sighs, for she was even as the poet cries,
“I love her madly for she is perfect fair,
Complete in gravity and gracious way;
Nor overtall nor overshort, the while
Too full for trousers are those hips that sway:
Her shape is midmost ‘twixt o’er small and tall;
Nor long to blame nor little to gainsay:
O’erfall her anklets tresses black as night
Yet in her face resplends eternal day.”
The King seeing her marvelled at her beauty and loveliness, her symmetry and perfect grace and said to the merchant, “O Shaykh, how much for this maiden?” Replied the merchant, “O my lord, I bought her for two thousand diners of the merchant who owned her before myself, since when I have travelled with her three years and she hath cost me, up to the time of my coming hither, other three thousand gold pieces; but she is a gift from me to thee.” The King robed him with a splendid robe of honour and ordered him ten thousand ducats, whereupon he kissed his hands, thanking him for his bounty and beneficence, and went his ways. Then the King committed the damsel to the tire women, saying, “Amend ye the case of this maiden3 and adorn her and furnish her a bower and set her therein.” And he bade his chamberlains carry her everything she needed and shut all the doors upon her. Now his capital wherein he dwelt was called the White City and was seated on the sea shore; so they lodged her in a chamber, whose latticed casements overlooked the main. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King after taking the maiden, committed her to the tire women bidding them amend her case and set her in a bower, and ordered his chamberlains to shut all the doors upon her when they had lodged her in a chamber whose latticed casements overlooked the main. Then Shahriman went in to her; but she spake not to him neither took any note of him.1 Quoth he, ‘Twould seem she hath been with folk who have not taught her manners.” Then he looked at the damsel and saw her surpassing beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace, with a face like the rondure of the moon at its full or the sun shining in the sheeny sky. So he marvelled at her charms of favour and figure and he praised Allah the Creator (magnified be His might!), after which he walked up to her and sat him down by her side; then he pressed her to his bosom and seating her on his thighs, sucked the dew of her lips’ which he found sweeter than honey. Presently he called for trays spread with richest viands of all kinds and ate and fed her by mouthfuls, till she had enough; yet she spoke not one word. The King began to talk to her and asked her of her name; but she abode still silent and uttered not a syllable nor made him any answer, neither ceased to hang down her head groundwards, and it was but the excess of her beauty and loveliness and the amorous grace that saved her from the royal wrath. Quoth he to himself, “Glory be to God, the Creator of this girl! How charming she is, save that she speaketh not! But perfection belongeth only to Allah the Most High.” And he asked the slave girls whether she had spoken, and they said, “From the time of her coming until now she hath not uttered a word nor have we heard her address us.” Then he summoned some of his women and concubines and bade them sing to her and make merry with her, so haply she might speak. Accordingly they played before her all manner instruments of music and sports and what not and sang, till the whole company was moved to mirth, except the damsel, who looked at them in silence, but neither laughed nor spoke. The King’s breast was straitened; thereupon he dismissed the women and abode alone with that damsel: after which he doffed his clothes and disrobing her with his own hand, looked upon her body and saw it as it were a silvern ingot. So he loved her with exceeding love and falling upon her, took her maidenhead and found her a pure virgin; whereat he rejoiced with excessive joy and said in himself, “By Allah, ’tis a wonder that a girl so fair of form and face should have been left by the merchants a clean maid as she is!”2 Then he devoted himself altogether to her, heeding none other and forsaking all his concubines and favourites, and tarried with her a whole year as it were a single day. Still she spoke not till, one morning he said to her (and indeed the love of her and longing waxed upon him), “O desire of souls, verily passion for thee is great with me, and I have forsaken for thy sake all my slave girls and concubines and women and favourites and I have made thee my portion of the world and had patience with thee a whole year; and now I beseech Almighty Allah, of His favour, to soften thy heart to me, so thou mayst speak to me. Or, an thou be dumb, tell me by a sign, that I may give up hope of thy speech. I pray the Lord (extolled be He!) to vouchsafe me by thee a son child, who shall inherit the kingdom after me; for I am old and lone and have none to be my heir. Wherefore, Allah upon thee, an thou love me, return me a reply.” The damsel bowed her head awhile in thought, and presently raising it, smiled in his face, whereat it seemed to him as if lightning filled the chamber. Then she said, “O magnanimous liege lord, and valorous lion, Allah hath answered thy prayer, for I am with child by thee and the time of my delivery is near at hand, though I know not if the unborn babe be male or female.3 But, had I not conceived by thee, I had not spoken to thee one word.” When the King heard her speech, his face shone with joy and gladness and he kissed her head and hands for excess of delight, saying Alhamdolillah — laud to Lord — who hath vouchsafed me the things I desired!, first, thy speech, and secondly, thy tidings that thou art with child by me.” Then he rose up and went forth from her and, seating himself on the throne of his kingship, in an ecstasy of happiness, bade his Wazir distribute to the poor and needy and widows and others an hundred thousand dinars, by way of thank offering to Allah Most High and alms on his own account. The Minister did as bidden by the King who, returning to the damsel, sat with her and embraced and pressed her to his breast, saying, “O my lady, my queen, whose slave I am, prithee what was the cause of this thy silence? Thou hast been with me a whole year, night and day, waking and sleeping, yet hast not spoken to me till this day.” She replied, “Hearken, O King of the Age, and know that I am a wretched exile, broken hearted and far parted from my mother and my family and my brother.” When the King heard her words, he knew her desire and said, “As for thy saying that thou art wretched, there is for such speech no ground, inasmuch as my kingdom and good and all I possess are at thy service and I also am become thy bondman; but, as for thy saying, ‘I am parted from my mother and brother and family’, tell me where they are and I will send and fetch them to thee.” There’ upon she answered, “Know, then, O auspicious King, that I am called Julnár4 the Sea born and that my father was of the Kings of the Main. He died and left us his reign, but while we were yet unsettled, behold, one of the other Kings arose against us and took the realm from our hands. I have a brother called Sálih, and my mother also is a woman of the sea; but I fell out with my brother ‘The Pious’ and swore that I would throw myself into the hands of a man of the folk of the land. So I came forth of the sea and sat down on the edge of an island in the moonshine5, where a passer by found me and, carrying me to his house, besought me of love liesse; but I smote him on the head, so that he all but died; whereupon he carried me forth and sold me to the merchant from whom thou hadst me, and this was a good man and a virtuous; pious, loyal and generous. Were it not that thy heart loved me and that thou promotedest me over all thy concubines, I had not remained with thee a single hour, but had cast myself from this window into the sea and gone to my mother and family; but I was ashamed to fare themwards, being with child by thee; for they would have deemed evilly of me and would not have credited me, even although I swore to them, an I told them that a King had bought me with his gold and made me his portion of the world and preferred me over all his wives and every thing that his right hand possessed. This then is my story and — the Peace!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These pretentious and curious displays of coquetry are not uncommon in handsome slave-girls when newly bought; and it is a kind of pundonor to humour them. They may also refuse their favours and a master who took possession of their persons by brute force would be blamed by his friends, men and women. Even the most despotic of despots, Fath Ali Shah of Persia, put up with refusals from his slave-girls and did not, as would the mean-minded, marry them to the grooms or cooks of the palace.
2 Such continence is rarely shown by the young Jallabs or slave-traders; when older they learn how much money is lost with the chattel’s virginity.
3 Midwives in the East, as in the less civilised parts of the West, have many nostrums for divining the sex of the unborn child.
4 Arabic (which has no written “g”) from Pers. Gulnár (Gul-i-anár) pomegranate-flower the Gulnare” of Byron who learnt his Orientalism at the Mekhitarist (Armenian) Convent, Venice. I regret to see the little honour now paid to the gallant poet in the land where he should be honoured the most. The systematic depreciation was begun by the late Mr. Thackeray, perhaps the last man to value the noble independence of Byron’s spirit; and it has been perpetuated, I regret to see, by better judges. These critics seem wholly to ignore the fact that Byron founded a school which covered Europe from Russia to Spain, from Norway to Sicily, and which from England passed over to the two Americas. This exceptional success, which has not yet fallen even to Shakespeare’s lot, was due to genius only, for the poet almost ignored study and poetic art. His great misfortune was being born in England under the Gerogium Sidus. Any Continental people would have regarded him s one of the prime glories of his race.
5 Arab. “Fí al-Kamar,” which Lane renders “in the moonlight” It seems to me that the allusion is to the Comorin Islands; but the sequel speaks simply of an island.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Julnar1 the Sea-born, answering the question of King Shahriman, told him her past from first to last, the King thanked her and kissed her between the eyes, saying, “By Allah, O my lady and light of mine eyes” I cannot bear to be parted from thee one hour; and given thou leave me, I shall die forthright. What then is to be done?” Replied she “O my lord, the time of my delivery is at hand and my family needs must be present, that they may tend me; for the women of the land know not the manner of child bearing of the women of the sea, nor do the daughters of the ocean know the manner of the daughters of the earth; and when my people come, I shall be reconciled to them and they will be reconciled to me.” Quoth the King, “How do the people of the sea walk therein, without being wetted?”; and quoth she, “O King of the Age, we walk in the waters with our eyes open, as do ye on the ground, by the blessing of the names graven upon the seal-ring of Solomon Davidson (on whom be peace!). But, O King, when my kith and kin come, I will tell them how thou boughtest me with thy gold, and hast entreated me with kindness and benevolence. It behoveth that thou confirm my words to them and that they witness thine estate with their own eyes and they learn that thou art a King, son of a King.” He rejoined, “O my lady, do what seemeth good to thee and what pleaseth thee and I will consent to thee in all thou wouldst do.” The damsel continued, yes, we walk in the sea and see what is therein and behold the sun, moon, stars and sky, as it were on the surface of earth and this irketh us naught. Know also that there be many peoples in the main and various forms and creatures of all kinds that are on the land, and that all that is on the land compared with that which is in the main is but a very small matter.” And the King marvelled at her words. Then she pulled out from her bosom two bits of Comorin lign-aloes and, kindling fire in a chafing dish, chose somewhat of them and threw it in, then she whistled a loud whistle and spake words none understood. Thereupon arose a great smoke and she said to the King, who was looking on, “O my lord, arise and hide thyself in a closet, that I may show thee my brother and mother and family, whilst they see thee not; for I design to bung them hither, and thou shalt presently espy a wondrous thing and shalt marvel at the several creatures and strange shapes which Almighty Allah hath created.” So he arose without stay or delay and entering a closet, fell a-watching what she should do. She continued her fumigations and conjurations till the sea foamed and frothed turbid and there rose from it a handsome young man of a bright favour, as he were the moon at its full, with brow flower-white, cheeks of ruddy light and teeth like the marguerite. He was the likest of all creatures to his sister and the tongue of the case spoke in his praise these two couplets,
“The full moon groweth perfect once a month
But thy face each day we see perfected.
And the full moon dwelleth in single sign,
But to thee all hearts be a dwelling stead.”
After him there came forth of the sea an ancient dame with hair speckled gray and five maidens, as they were moons, bearing a likeness to the damsel hight Julnar. The King looked upon them as they all walked upon the face of the water, till they drew near the window and saw Julnar, whereupon they knew her and went in to her. She rose to them and met them with joy and gladness, and they embraced her and wept with sore weeping. Then said they to her, “O Julnar, how couldst thou leave us four years, and we unknowing of thine abiding place? By Allah the world hath been straitened upon us for stress of severance from thee, and we have had no delight of food or drink; no, not for one day, but have wept with sore weeping night and day for the excess of our longing after thee!” Then she fell to kissing the hands of the youth her brother and her mother and cousins, and they sat with her awhile, questioning her of her case and of what had betided her, as well as of her present estate. “Know,” replied she, “that, when I left you, I issued from the sea and sat down on the shore of an island, where a man found me and sold me to a merchant, who brought me to this city and sold me for ten thousand diners to the King of the country, who entreated me with honour and forsook all his concubines and women and favourites for my sake and was distracted by me from all he had and all that was in his city.” Quoth her brother, “Praised be Allah, who hath reunited us with thee! But now, O my sister, ’tis my purpose that thou arise and go with us to our country and people.” When the King heard these words, his wits fled him for fear lest the damsel accept her brother’s words and he himself avail not to stay her, albeit he loved her passionately, and he became distracted with fear of losing her. But Julnar answered, “By Allah, O my brother, the mortal who bought me is lord of this city and he is a mighty King and a wise man, good and generous with extreme generosity. Moreover, he is a personage of great worth and wealth and hath neither son nor daughter. He hath entreated me with honour and done me all manner of favour and kindness; nor, from the day of his buying me to this time have I heard from him an ill word to hurt my heart: but he hath never ceased to use me courteously; doing nothing save with my counsel, and I am in the best of case with him and in the perfection of fair fortune. Furthermore, were I to leave him, he would perish; for he cannot endure to be parted from me an hour; and if I left him, I also should die, for the excess of the love I bear him, by reason of his great goodness to me during the time of my sojourn with him; for, were my father alive, my estate with him would not be like my estate with this great and glorious and puissant potentate. And verily, ye see me with child by him and praise be to Allah, who hath made me a daughter of the Kings of the sea, and my husband the mightiest of the Kings of the land, and Allah, in very sooth, he hath compensated me for whatso I lost.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Mac. Edit. misprints Julnár as Julnáz (so the Bul Edit. ii. 233), and Lane ‘s Jullanár is an Egyptian vulgarism. He is right in suspecting the “White City” to be imaginary, but its sea has no apparent connection with the Caspian. The mermen and mermaids appear to him to be of an inferior order of the Jinn, termed Al–Ghawwásah, the Divers, who fly through air and are made of fire which at times issues from their mouths.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Julnar the Sea born told her brother all her tale, adding “Allah hath not cut me off, but hath compensated me for whatso I lost. Now this King hath no issue, male or female, so I pray the Almighty to vouchsafe me a son who shall inherit of this mighty sovran that which the Lord hath bestowed upon him of lands and palaces and possessions.” Now when her brother and the daughters of her uncle heard this her speech, their eyes were cooled thereby and they said, ‘O Julnar, thou knowest thy value with us and thou wottest the affection we bear thee and thou art certified that thou art to us the dearest of all creatures and thou art assured that we seek but ease for thee, without travail or trouble. Wherefore, an thou be in unease, arise and go with us to our land and our folk but, an thou be at thine ease here, in honour and happiness, this is our wish and our will; for we desire naught save thy welfare in any case.’’1 Quoth she, “By Allah, I am here in the utmost ease and solace and honour and grace!” When the King heard what she said, he joyed with a heart set at rest and thanked her silently for this; the love of her redoubled on him and entered his heart core and he knew that she loved him as he loved her and that she desired to abide with him, that she might see his child by her. Then Julnar bade her women lay the tables and set on all sorts of viands, which had been cooked in kitchen under her own eyes, and fruits and sweetmeats, whereof she ate, she and her kinsfolk. But, presently, they said to her, “O Julnar, thy lord is a stranger to us, and we have entered his house, without his leave or weeting. Thou hast extolled to us his excellence and eke thou hast set before us of his victual whereof we have eaten; yet have we not companied with him nor seen him, neither hath he seen us nor come to our presence and eaten with us, so there might be between us bread and salt.” And they all left eating and were wroth with her, and fire, issued from their mouths, as from cressets; which when the King saw, his wits fled for excess of fear of them. But Julnar arose and soothed them and going to the closet where was the King her lord, said to him, “O my lord, hast thou seen and heard how I praised thee and extolled thee to my people and hast thou noted what they said to me of their desire to carry me away with them?” Quoth he, “I both heard and saw: May the Almighty abundantly requite thee for me! By Allah, I knew not the full measure of thy fondness until this blessed hour, and now I doubt not of thy love to me!” Quoth she, “O my lord, is the reward of kindness aught but kindness? Verily, thou hast dealt generously with me and hast entreated me with worship and I have seen that thou lovest me with the utmost love, and thou hast done me all manner of honour and kindness and preferred me above all thou lovest and desirest. So how should my heart be content to leave thee and depart from thee, and how should I do thus after all thy goodness to me? But now I desire of thy courtesy that thou come and salute my family, so thou mayst see them and they thee and pure love and friendship may be between you; for know, O King of the Age, that my brother and mother and cousins love thee with exceeding love, by reason of my praises of thee to them, and they say, ‘We will not depart from thee nor go to our homes till we have foregathered with the King and saluted him.’ For indeed they desire to see thee and make acquaintance with thee.” The King replied, “To hear is to obey, for this is my very own wish.” So saying, he rose and went in to them and saluted them with the goodliest salutation; and they sprang up to him and received him with the utmost worship, after which he sat down in the palace and ate with them; and he entertained them thus for the space of thirty days. Then, being desirous of returning home, they took leave of the King and Queen and departed with due permission to their own land, after he had done them all possible honour. Awhile after this, Julnar completed the days of her pregnancy and the time of her delivery being come, she bore a boy, as he were the moon at its full, whereat the utmost joy betided the King, for that he had never in his life been vouchsafed son or daughter. So they held high festival and decorated the city seven days, in the extreme of joy and jollity: and on the seventh day came Queen Julnar’s mother, Faráshah hight,2 and brother and cousins, whenas they knew of her delivery. — And Shahrazad perceived the light of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Julnar was brought to bed and was visited by her people, the King received them with joy at their coming and said to them, “I said that I would not give my son a name till you should come and name him of your knowledge.” So they named him Badr Básim,1 and all agreed upon this name. Then they showed the child to his uncle Salih, who took him in his arms and arising began to walk about the chamber with him in all directions right and left. Presently he carried him forth of the palace and going down to the salt sea, fared on with him, till he was hidden from the King’s sight. Now when Shahriman saw him take his son and disappear with him in the depth of the sea, he gave the child up for lost and fell to weeping and wailing; but Julnar said to him, “O King of the Age, fear not, neither grieve for thy son, for I love my child more than thou and he is with my brother, so reck thou not of the sea neither fear for him drowning. Had my brother known that aught of harm would betide the little one, he had not done this deed; and he will presently bring thee thy son safe, Inshallah — an it please the Almighty.” Nor was an hour past before the sea became turbid and troubled and King Salih came forth and flew from the sea till he came up to them with the child lying quiet and showing a face like the moon on the night of fulness. Then, looking at the King he said, “Haply thou fearedst harm for thy son, whenas I plunged into the sea with him?” Replied the father, “Yes, O my lord, I did indeed fear for him and thought he would never be saved therefrom.” Rejoined Salih, “O King of the land, we pencilled his eyes with an eye powder we know of and recited over him the names graven upon the seal-ring of Solomon David son (on whom be the Peace!), for this is what we use to do with children newly born among us; and now thou needst not fear for him drowning or suffocation in all the oceans of the world, if he should go down into them; for, even as ye walk on the land, so walk we in the sea.” Then he pulled out of his pocket a casket, graven and sealed and, breaking open the seals, emptied it; whereupon there fell from it strings of all manner jacinths and other jewels, besides three hundred bugles of emerald and other three hundred hollow gems, as big as ostrich eggs, whose light dimmed that of sun and moon. Quoth Salih, “O King of the Age, these jewels and jacinths are a present from me to thee. We never yet brought thee a gift, for that we knew not Julnar’s abiding place neither had we of her any tidings or trace; but now that we see thee to be united with her and we are all become one thing, we have brought thee this present; and every little while we will bring thee the like thereof, Inshallah! for that these jewels and jacinths are more plentiful with us than pebbles on the beach and we know the good and the bad of them and their whereabouts and the way to them, and they are easy to us.” When the King saw the jewels, his wits were bewildered and his sense was astounded and he said, “By Allah, one single gem of these jewels is worth my realm!” Then he thanked for his bounty Salih the Sea born and, looking towards Queen Julnar, said, “I am abashed before thy brother, for that he hath dealt munificently by me and bestowed on me this splendid gift, which the folk of the land were unable to present.” So she thanked her brother for his deed and he said, “O King of the Age, thou hast the prior claim on us and it behoves us to thank thee, for thou hast entreated our sister with kindness and we have entered thy dwelling and eaten of thy victual; and the poet saith2,
‘Had I wept before she did in my passion for Saada,
I had healed my soul before repentance came.
But she wept before I did: her tears drew mine; and I said,
The merit belongs to the precedent.’”
“And” (resumed Salih the Pious) “if we stood on our faces in thy service, O King of the Age, a thousand years, yet had we not the might to requite thee, and this were but a scantling of thy due.” The King thanked him with heartiest thanks and the Merman and Merwomen abode with him forty days’ space, at the end of which Salih arose and kissed the ground before his brother in law, who asked ‘ What wantest thou, O Salih?” He answered, “O King of the Age, indeed thou hast done us overabundant favours, and we crave of thy bounties that thou deal charitably with us and grant us permission to depart; for we yearn after our people and country and kinsfolk and our homes; so will we never forsake thy service nor that of my sister and my nephew; and by Allah, O King of the Age, ’tis not pleasant to my heart to part from thee; but how shall we do, seeing that we have been reared in the sea and that the sojourn of the shore liketh us not?” When the King heard these words he rose to his feet and farewelled Salih the Sea born and his mother and his cousins, and all wept together, because of parting and presently they said to him, “Anon we will be with thee again, nor will we forsake thee, but will visit thee every few days.” Then they flew off and descending into the sea, disappeared from sight. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the relations of Julnar the Sea-born farewelled the King and her, weeping together because of parting; then they flew off and descending into the depths disappeared from sight. After this King Shahriman showed the more kindness to Julnar and honoured her with increase of honour; and the little one grew up and flourished, whilst his maternal uncle and grandam and cousins visited the King every few days and abode with him a month or two months at a time. The boy ceased not to increase in beauty and loveliness with increase of years, till he attained the age of fifteen and was unique in his perfection and symmetry. He learnt writing and Koran reading; history, syntax and lexicography; archery, spearplay and horsemanship and what not else behoveth the sons of Kings; nor was there one of the children of the folk of the city, men or women, but would talk of the youth’s charms, for he was of surpassing beauty and perfection, even such an one as is praised in the saying of the poet,1
“The whiskers write upon his cheek, with ambergris on pearl,
Two lines, as ’twere with jet upon an apple, line for line.
Death harbours in his languid eye and slays with every glance,
And in his cheek is drunkenness, and not in any wine.”
And in that of another,
“Upsprings from table of his lovely cheeks2
A growth like broidery my wonder is:
As ’twere a lamp that burns through night hung up
Beneath the gloom3 in chains of ambergris.”
And indeed the King loved him with exceeding love, and summoning his Wazir and Emirs and the Chief Officers of state and Grandees of his realm, required of them a binding oath that they would make Badr Basim King over them after his sire; and they sware the oath gladly, for the sovran was liberal to the lieges, pleasant in parley and a very compend of goodness, saying naught but that wherein was advantage for the people. On the morrow Shahriman mounted, with all his troops and Emirs and Lords, and went forth into the city and returned. When they drew near the palace, the King dismounted, to wait upon his son who abode on horseback, and he and all the Emirs and Grandees bore the saddlecloth of honour before him, each and every of them bearing it in his turn, till they came to the vestibule of the palace, where the Prince alighted and his father and the Emirs embraced him and seated him on the throne of Kingship, whilst they (including his sire) stood before him. Then Badr Basim judged the people, deposing the unjust and promoting the just and continued so doing till near upon noon, when he descended from the throne and went in to his mother, Julnar the Sea-born, with the crown upon his head, as he were the moon. When she saw him, with the King standing before him, she rose and kissing him, gave him joy of the Sultanate and wished him and his sire length of life and victory over their foes. He sat with her and rested till the hour of mid afternoon prayer, when he took horse and repaired, with the Emirs before him, to the Maydan plain, where he played at arms with his father and his lords, till night fall, when he returned to the palace, preceded by all the folk. He rode forth thus every day to the tilting ground, returning to sit and judge the people and do justice between earl and churl; and thus he continued doing a whole year, at the end of which he began to ride out a-hunting and a-chasing and to go round about in the cities and countries under his rule, proclaiming security and satisfaction and doing after the fashion of Kings; and he was unique among the people of his day for glory and valour and just dealing among the subjects. And it chanced that one day the old King fell sick and his fluttering heart forebode him of translation to the Mansion of Eternity. His sickness grew upon him till he was nigh upon death, when he called his son and commended his mother and subjects to his care and caused all the Emirs and Grandees once more swear allegiance to the Prince and assured himself of them by strongest oaths; after which he lingered a few days and departed to the mercy of Almighty Allah. His son and widow and all the Emirs and Wazirs and Lords mourned over him, and they built him a tomb and buried him therein. They ceased not ceremonially to mourn for him a whole month, till Salih and his mother and cousins arrived and condoled with their grieving for the King and said, “O Julnar, though the King be dead, yet hath he left this noble and peerless youth, and not dead is whoso leaveth the like of him, the rending lion and the shining moon.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Salih brother of Julnar and her mother and cousins said to her, “Albeit the King be dead, yet hath he left behind him as successor this noble and peerless youth, the rending lion and the shining moon.” Thereupon the Grandees and notables of the Empire went in to King Badr Basim and said to him, “O King, there is no harm in mourning for the late sovran: but over- mourning beseemeth none save women; wherefore occupy thou not thy heart and our hearts with mourning for thy sire; inasmuch as he hath left thee behind him, and whoso leaveth the like of thee is not dead.” Then they comforted him and diverted him and lastly carried him to the bath. When he came out of the Hammam, he donned a rich robe, purfled with gold and embroidered with jewels and jacinths; and, setting the royal crown on his head, sat down on his throne of kingship and ordered the affairs of the folk, doing equal justice between strong and weak, and exacting from the prince the dues of the pauper; wherefore the people loved him with exceeding love. Thus he continued doing for a full year, whilst, every now and then. his kinsfolk of the sea visited him, and his life was pleasant and his eye was cooled. Now it came to pass that his uncle Salih went in one night of the nights to Julnar and saluted her; whereupon she rose and embracing him seated him by her side and asked him, “O my brother, how art thou and my mother and my cousins?” He answered, “O my sister, they are well and glad and in good case, lacking naught save a sight of thy face.” Then she set somewhat of food before him and he ate, after which talk ensued between the twain and they spake of King Badr Basim and his beauty and loveliness, his symmetry and skill in cavalarice and cleverness and good breeding. Now Badr was propped upon his elbow hard by them; and, hearing his mother and uncle speak of him, he feigned sleep and listened to their talk.1 Presently Salih said to his sister, “Thy son is now seventeen years old and is unmarried, and I fear lest mishap befal him and he have no son; wherefore it is my desire to marry him to a Princess of the princesses of the sea, who shall be a match for him in beauty and loveliness.” Quoth Julnar, “Name them to me for I know them all.” So Salih proceeded to enumerate them to her, one by one, but to each she said, “I like not this one for my son; I will not marry him but to one who is his equal in beauty and loveliness and wit and piety and good breeding and magnanimity and dominion and rank and lineage.”2 Quoth Salih, “I know none other of the daughters of the Kings of the sea, for I have numbered to thee more than an hundred girls and not one of them pleaseth thee: but see, O my sister, whether thy son be asleep or no.” So she felt Badr and finding on him the signs of slumber said to Salih, “He is asleep; what hast thou to say and what is thine object in making sure his sleeping?” Replied he, “O my sister, know that I have bethought me of a Mermaid of the mermaids who befitteth thy son; but I fear to name her, lest he be awake and his heart be taken with her love and maybe we shall be unable to win to her; so should he and we and the Grandees of the realm be wearied in vain and trouble betide us through this; for, as saith the poet,
‘Love, at first sight, is a spurt of spray;3
But a spreading sea when it gaineth sway.’”
When she heard these words, she cried, “Tell me the condition of this girl, and her name for I know all the damsels of the sea, Kings’ daughters and others; and, if I judge her worthy of him, I will demand her in marriage for him of her father, though I spend on her whatso my hand possesseth. So recount to me all anent her and fear naught, for my son sleepeth.” Quoth Salih, “I fear lest he be awake; and the poet saith,
‘I loved him, soon as his praise I heard;
For ear oft loveth ere eye survey.’ ”
But Julnar said, “Speak out and be brief and fear not, O my brother.” So he said, “By Allah, O my sister, none is worthy of thy son save the Princess Jauharah, daughter of King Al-Samandal,4 for that she is like unto him in beauty and loveliness and brilliancy and perfection; nor is there found, in sea or on land, a sweeter or pleasanter of gifts than she; for she is prime in comeliness and seemlihead of face and symmetrical shape of perfect grace; her cheek is ruddy dight, her brow flower white, her teeth gem bright, her eyes blackest black and whitest white, her hips of heavy weight, her waist slight and her favour exquisite. When she turneth she shameth the wild cattle5 and the gazelles and when she walketh, she breedeth envy in the willow branch: when she unveileth her face outshineth sun and moon and all who look upon her she enslaveth soon: sweet lipped and soft sided indeed is she.” Now when Julnar heard what Salih said, she replied, “Thou sayest sooth, O my brother! By Allah, I have seen her many and many a time and she was my companion, when we were little ones but now we have no knowledge of each other, for constraint of distance; nor have I set eyes on her for eighteen years. By Allah none is worthy of my son but she!” Now Badr heard all they said and mastered what had passed, first and last, of these praises bestowed on Jauharah daughter of King Al- Samandal; so he fell in love with her on hearsay, pretending sleep the while, wherefore fire was kindled in his heart on her account full sore and he was drowned in a sea without bottom or shore. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This manner of listening is not held dishonourable amongst Arabs or Easterns generally; who, however, hear as little good of themselves as Westerns declare in proverb.
2 Arab. “Hasab wa nasab,” before explained as inherited degree and acquired dignity. See vol. iv. 171.
3 Arab. “Mujájat”=spittle running from the mouth: hence Lane, “is like running saliva,” which, in poetry is not pretty.
4 Arab. and Heb. “Salmandra” from Pers. Samandal (— dar — duk — dun, etc.), a Salamander, a mouse which lives in fire, some say a bird in India and China and others confuse with the chameleon (Bochart Hiero. Part ii. chapt. vi).
5 Arab. “Mahá” one of the four kinds of wild cows or bovine antelopes, bubalus, Antelope defassa, A. Ieucoryx, etc.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Badr Basim heard the words of his uncle Salih and his mother Julnar, praising the daughter of King Al–Samandal, a flame of fire burnt in his heart full sore and he was drowned in a sea which hath nor bottom nor shore. Then Salih, looking at his sister, exclaimed, “By Allah, O my sister, there is no greater fool among the Kings of the sea than her father nor one more violent of temper than he! So name thou not the girl to thy son, till we demand her in marriage of her father. If he favour us with his assent, we will praise Allah Almighty; and if he refuse us and will not give her to thy son to wife, we will say no more about it and seek another match.” Answered Julnar, “Right is thy rede;” and they parleyed no more: but Badr passed the night with a heart on fire with passion for Princess Jauharah. However he concealed his case and spake not of her to his mother or his uncle, albeit he was on coals of fire for love of her. Now when it was morning, the King and his uncle went to the Hammam-bath and washed, after which they came forth and drank wine and the servants set food before them, whereof they and Julnar ate their sufficiency, and washed their hands. Then Salih rose and said to his nephew and sister, “With your leave, I would fain go to my mother and my folk for I have been with you some days and their hearts are troubled with awaiting me.” But Badr Basim said to him, “Tarry with us this day;” and he consented. Then quoth the King, “Come, O my uncle, let us go forth to the garden.” So they sallied forth and promenaded about the pastures and took their solace awhile, after which King Badr lay down under a shady tree, thinking to rest and sleep; but he remembered his uncle’s description of the maiden and her beauty and loveliness and shed railing tears, reciting these two couplets1,
“Were it said to me while the flame is burning within me,
And the fire blazing in my heart and bowels,
‘Wouldst thou rather that thou shouldest behold them
Or a draught of pure water?’— I would answer, ‘Them.’ ”
Then he sighed and wept and lamented, reciting these verses also,
“Who shall save me from love of a lovely gazelle,
Brighter browed than the sunshine, my bonnibel!
My heart, erst free from her love, now burns
With fire for the maid of Al–Samandal.”
When Salih heard what his nephew said, he smote hand upon hand and said, “There is no god but the God! Mohammed is the Apostle of God and there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” adding, “O my son, heardest thou what passed between me and thy mother respecting Princess Jauharah?” Replied Badr Basim, “Yes, O my uncle, and I fell in love with her by hearsay through what I heard you say. Indeed, my heart cleaveth to her and I cannot live without her.” Rejoined his uncle, “O King, let us return to thy mother and tell her how the case standeth and crave her leave that I may take thee with me and seek the Princess in marriage of her sire; after which we will farewell her and I and thou will return. Indeed, I fear to take thee and go without her leave, lest she be wroth with me; and verily the right would be on her side, for I should be the cause of her separation from us. Moreover, the city would be left without king and there would be none to govern the citizens and look to their affairs, so should the realm be disordered against thee and the kingship depart from thy hands.” But Badr Basim, hearing these words, cried, “O my uncle, if I return to my mother and consult her on such matter, she will not suffer me to do this; wherefore I will not return to my mother nor consult her.” And he wept before him and presently added, “I will go with thee and tell her not and after will return.” When Salih heard what his nephew said, he was confused anent his case and said, “I crave help of the Almighty in any event.” Then, seeing that Badr Basim was resolved to go with him, whether his mother would let him or no, he drew from his finger a seal ring, whereon were graven certain of the names of Allah the Most High, and gave it to him, saying, “Put this on thy finger, and thou shalt be safe from drowning and other perils and from the mischief of sea beasts and great fishes.” So King Badr Basim took the ring and set it on his finger. Then they dove into the deep — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These lines have occurred in vol. iii. 279; so I quote Lane (iii. 274) by way of variety; although I do not like his “ bowels.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Badr Basim and his uncle, after diving into the deep, fared on till they came to Salih’s palace, where they found Badr Basim’s grandmother, the mother of his mother, seated with her kinsfolk and, going in to them, kissed their hands. When the old Queen saw Badr, she rose to him and embracing him, kissed him between the eyes and said to him, “A blessed coming, O my son! How didst thou leave thy mother Julnar?” He replied, “She is well in health and fortune, and saluteth thee and her uncle’s daughters.” Then Salih related to his mother what had occurred between him and his sister and how King Badr Basim had fallen in love with the Princess Jauharah daughter of Al-Samandal by report and told her the whole tale from beginning to end adding, “He hath not come save to demand her in wedlock of her sire;” which when the old Queen heard, she was wroth against her son with exceeding wrath and sore troubled and concerned and said, “O Salih, O my son, in very sooth thou diddest wrong to name the Princess before thy nephew, knowing, as thou dost, that her father is stupid and violent, little of wit and tyrannical of temper, grudging his daughter to every suitor; for all the Monarchs of the Main have sought her hand, but he rejected them all; nay, he would none of them, saying, ‘Ye are no match for her in beauty or in loveliness or in aught else.’ Wherefore we fear to demand her in wedlock of him, lest he reject us, even as be hath rejected others; and we are a folk of high spirit and should return broken-hearted.” Hearing these words Salih answered, “O my mother what is to do? For King Badr Basim saith, ‘There is no help but that I seek her in marriage of her sire, though I expend my whole kingdom’; and he avoucheth that, an he take her not to wife, he will die of love for her and longing.” And Salih continued, “He is handsomer and goodlier than she; his father was King of all the Persians, whose King he now is, and none is worthy of Jauharah save Badr Basim. Wherefore I purpose to carry her father a gift of jacinths and jewels befitting his dignity, and demand her of him in marriage. An he object to us that he is a King, behold, our man also is a King and the son of a King; or, if he object to us her beauty, behold our man is more beautiful than she; or, again, if he object to us the vastness of his dominion, behold our man’s dominion is vaster than hers and her father’s and numbereth more troops and guards, for that his kingdom is greater than that of Al-Samandal. Needs must I do my endeavour to further the desire of my sister’s son, though it relieve me of my life; because I was the cause of whatso hath betided; and, even as I plunged him into the ocean of her love, so will I go about to marry him to her, and may Almighty Allah help me thereto!” Rejoined his mother, “Do as thou wilt, but beware of giving her father rough words, whenas thou speakest with him; for thou knowest his stupidity and violence and I fear lest he do thee a mischief, for he knoweth not respect for any.” And Salih answered, “Hearkening and obedience.” Then he sprang up and taking two bags full of gems such as rubies and bugles of emerald, noble ores and all manner jewels gave them to his servants to carry and set out with his nephew for the palace of Al–Samandal. When they came thither, he sought audience of the King and being admitted to his presence, kissed ground before him and saluted him with the goodliest Salam. The King rose to him and honouring him with the utmost honour, bade him be seated. So he sat down and presently the King said to him, “A blessed coming: indeed thou hast desolated us, O Salih! But what bringeth thee to us? Tell me thine errand that we may fulfil it to thee.” Whereupon Salih arose and, kissing the ground a second time, said, “O King of the Age, my errand is to Allah and the magnanimous liege lord and the valiant lion, the report of whose good qualities the caravans far and near have dispread and whose renown for benefits and beneficence and clemency and graciousness and liberality to all climes and countries hath sped.” Thereupon he opened the two bags and, displaying their contents before Al–Samandal, said to him, “O King of the Age, haply wilt thou accept my gift and by showing favour to me heal my heart.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Salih offered his gift to the King, saying, “My aim and end is that the Sovran show favour to me and heal my heart by accepting my present,” King Al–Samandal asked, “With what object dost thou gift me with this gift? Tell me thy tale and acquaint me with thy requirement. An its accomplishment be in my power I will straightway accomplish it to thee and spare thee toil and trouble; and if I be unable thereunto, Allah compelleth not any soul aught beyond its power.’’1 So Salih rose and kissing ground three times, said, “O King of the Age, that which I desire thou art indeed able to do; it is in thy power and thou art master thereof; and I impose not on the King a difficulty, nor am I Jinn-demented, that I should crave of the King a thing whereto he availeth not; for one of the sages saith, ‘An thou wouldst be complied with ask that which can be readily supplied’. Wherefore, that of which I am come in quest, the King (whom Allah preserve!) is able to grant.” The King replied, “Ask what thou wouldst have, and state thy case and seek thy need.” Then said Salih,2 “O King of the Age, know that I come as a suitor, seeking the unique pearl and the hoarded jewel, the Princess Jauharah, daughter of our lord the King; wherefore, O King disappoint thou not thy suitor.” Now when the King heard this, he laughed till he fell backwards, in mockery of him and said, “O Salih, I had thought thee a man of worth and a youth of sense, seeking naught save what was reasonable and speaking not save advisedly. What then hath befallen thy reason and urged thee to this monstrous matter and mighty hazard, that thou seekest in marriage daughters of Kings, lords of cities and climates? Say me, art thou of a rank to aspire to this great eminence and hath thy wit failed thee to this extreme pass that thou affrontest me with this demand?” Replied Salih, “Allah amend the King! I seek her not for myself (albeit, an I did, I am her match and more than her match, for thou knowest that my father was King of the Kings of the sea, for all thou art this day our King), but I seek her for King Badr Basim, lord of the lands of the Persians and son of King Shahriman, whose puissance thou knowest. An thou object that thou art a mighty great King, King Badr is a greater; and if thou object thy daughter’s beauty King Badr is more beautiful than she and fairer of form and more excellent of rank and lineage; and he is the champion of the people of his day. Wherefore, if thou grant my request, O King of the Age thou wilt have set the thing in its stead; but, if thou deal arrogantly with us, thou wilt not use us justly nor travel with us the ‘road which is straght’.3 Moreover, O King, thou knowest that the Princess Jauharah, the daughter of our lord the King must needs be wedded and bedded, for the sage saith, a girl’s lot is either grace of marriage or the grave.4 Wherefore, an thou mean to marry her, my sister’s son is worthier of her than any other man.” Now when King Al–Samandal heard Salih’s words, he was wroth with exceeding wrath; his reason well nigh fled and his soul was like to depart his body for rage, and he cried, “O dog, shall the like of thee dare to bespeak me thus and name my daughter in the assemblies,5 saying that the son of thy sister Julnar is a match for her? Who art thou and who is this sister of thine and who is her son and who was his father,6 that thou durst say to me such say and address me with such address? What are ye all, in comparison with my daughter, but dogs?” And he cried out to his pages, saying, “Take yonder gallows bird’s head!” So they drew their swords and made for Salih but he fled and for the palace gate sped; and reaching the entrance, he found of his cousins and kinsfolk and servants, more than a thousand horse armed cap-à-pie in iron and close knitted mail-coats, hending in hand spears and naked swords glittering white. And these when they saw Salih come running out of the palace (they having been sent by his mother to his succour), questioned him and he told them what was to do; whereupon they knew that the King was a fool and violent tempered to boot. So they dismounted and baring their blades, went in to the King Al–Samandal, whom they found seated upon the throne of his Kingship, unaware of their coming and enraged against Salih with furious rage; and they beheld his eunuchs and pages and officers unprepared. When the King saw them enter, drawn brand in hand, he cried out to his people, saying “Woe to you! Take me the heads of these hounds!” But ere an hour had sped Al–Samandal’s party were put to the route and relied upon flight, and Salih and his kinsfolk seized upon the King and pinioned him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The last verse (286) of chapt. ii. The Cow: “compelleth” in the sense of “burdeneth.”
2 Salih’s speeches are euphuistic.
3 From the Fátihah.
4 A truly Eastern saying, which ignores the “old maids” of the West.
5 i.e naming her before the lieges as if the speaker were her and his superior. It would have been more polite not to have gone beyond “ the unique pearl and the hoarded jewel:” the offensive part of the speech was using the girl’s name.
6 Meaning emphatically that one and all were nobodies.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Salih and his kinsfolk pinioned the King, Princess Jauharah awoke and knew that her father was a captive and his guards slain. So she fled forth the palace to a certain island, and climbing up into a high tree, hid herself in its summit. Now when the two parties came to blows, some of King Al–Samandal’s pages fled and Badr Basim meeting them, questioned them of their case and they told him what had happened. But when he heard that the King was a prisoner, Badr feared for himself and fled, saying in his heart, “Verily, all this turmoil is on my account and none is wanted but I.” So he sought safety in flight, security to sight, knowing not whither he went; but destiny from Eternity fore-ordained crave him to the very island where the Princess had taken refuge, and he came to the very tree whereon she sat and threw himself down, like a dead man, thinking to lie and repose himself and knowing not there is no rest for the pursued, for none knoweth what Fate hideth for him in the future. As he lay down, he raised his eyes to the tree and they met the eyes of the Princess. So he looked at her and seeing her to be like the moon rising in the East, cried, “Glory to Him who fashioned yonder perfect form, Him who is the Creator of all things and who over all things is Almighty! Glory to the Great God, the Maker, the Shaper and Fashioner! By Allah, if my presentiments be true, this is Jauharah, daughter of King Al–Samandal! Methinks that, when she heard of our coming to blows with her father, she fled to this island and, happening upon this tree, hid herself on its head; but, if this be not the Princess herself, ’tis one yet goodlier than she.” Then he bethought himself of her case and said in himself, “I will arise and lay hands on her and question her of her condition; and, if she be indeed the she, I will demand her in wedlock of herself and so win my wish.” So he stood up and said to her, “O end of all desire, who art thou and who brought thee hither?” She looked at Badr Basim and seeing him to be as the full moon,1 when it shineth from under the black cloud, slender of shape and sweet of smile answered, “O fair of fashion, I am Princess Jauharah, daughter of King Al–Samandal, and I took refuge in this place, because Salih and his host came to blows with my sire and slew his troops and took him prisoner, with some of his men, wherefore I fled, fearing for my very life,” presently adding, “And I weet not what fortune hath done with my father.” When King Badr Basim heard these words he marvelled with exceeding marvel at this strange chance, and thought: “Doubtless I have won my wish by the capture of her sire.” Then he looked at Jauharah and said to her, “Come down, O my lady; for I am slain for love of thee and thine eyes have captivated me. On my account and thine are all these broils and battles; for thou must know that I am King Badr Basim, Lord of the Persians and Salih is my mother’s brother and he it is who came to thy sire to demand thee of him in marriage. As for me, I have quitted my kingdom for thy sake, and our meeting here is the rarest coincidence. So come down to me and let us twain fare for thy father’s palace, that I may beseech uncle Salih to release him and I may make thee my lawful wife.” When Jauharah heard his words, she said in herself, “ ’Twas on this miserable gallows bird’s account, then, that all this hath befallen and that my father hath fallen prisoner and his chamberlains and suite have been slain and I have been departed from my palace, a miserable exile and have fled for refuge to this island. But, an I devise not against him some device to defend myself from him, he will possess himself of me and take his will of me; for he is in love and for aught that he doeth a lover is not blamed.’” Then she beguiled him with winning words and soft speeches, whilst he knew not the perfidy against him she purposed, and asked him, “O my lord and light of my eyes, say me, art thou indeed King Badr Basim, son of Queen Julnar?” And he answered, “Yes, O my lady.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab Badr, the usual pun.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Jauharah, daughter of King Al–Samandal, asked the youth, “Art thou in very sooth King Badr Basim, son of Queen Julnar?” And he answered, “Yes, O my lady!” Then she, “May Allah cut off my father and gar his kingdom cease from him and heal not his heart neither avert from him strangerhood, if he could desire a comelier than thou or aught goodlier than these fair qualities of thine! By Allah, he is of little wit and judgment!” presently adding, “But, O King of the Age, punish him not for that he hath done; more by token that an thou love me a span, verily I love thee a cubit. Indeed, I have fallen into the net of thy love and am become of the number of thy slain. The love that was with thee hath transferred itself to me and there is left thereof with thee but a tithe of that which is with me.” So saying, she came down from the tree and drawing near him strained him to her bosom and fell to kissing him; whereat passion and desire for her redoubled on him and doubting not but she loved him, he trusted in her, and returned her kisses and caresses. Presently he said to her, “By Allah, O Princess, my uncle Salih set forth to me not a fortieth part of thy charms; no, nor a quarter-carat1 of the four and twenty.” Then Jauharah pressed him to her bosom and pronounced some unintelligible words; then spat on his face, saying, “Quit this form of man and take shape of bird, the handsomest of birds, white of robe, with red bill and legs.” Hardly had she spoken, when King Badr Basim found himself transformed into a bird, the handsomest of birds, who shook himself and stood looking at her. Now Jauharah had with her one of her slave girls, by name Marsinah2; so she called her and said to her, “By Allah, but that I fear for the life of my father, who is his uncle’s prisoner, I would kill him! Allah never requite him with good! How unlucky was his coming to us; for all this trouble is due to his hard headedness! But do thou, O slave girl, bear him to the Thirsty Island and leave him there to die of thirst.” So Marsinah carried him to the island in question and would have returned and left him there but she said in herself, “By Allah, the lord of such beauty and loveliness deserveth not to die of thirst!” So she went forth from that island and brought him to another abounding in trees and fruits and rills and, setting him down there, returned to her mistress and told her, “I have left him on the Thirsty Island.” Such was the case with Badr Basim; but as regards King Salih he sought for Jauharah after capturing the King and killing his folk; but, finding her not, returned to his palace and said to his mother, “Where is my sister’s son, King Badr Basim?” “By Allah, O my son,” replied she, “I know nothing of him! For when it reached him that you and King Al–Samandal had come to blows and that strife and slaughter had betided between you, he was affrighted and fled.” When Salih heard this, he grieved for his nephew and said, “O my mother, by Allah, we have dealt negligently by King Badr and I fear lest he perish or lest one of King Al-Samandal’s soldiers or his daughter Jauharah fall in with him. So should we come to shame with his mother and no good betide us from her, for that I took him without her leave.” Then he despatched guards and scouts throughout the sea and elsewhere to seek for Badr; but they could learn no tidings of him; so they returned and told King Salih, wherefore cark and care redoubled on him and his breast was straitened for King Badr Basim. So far concerning nephew and uncle, but as for Julnar the Sea-born, after their departure she abode in expectation of them, but her son returned not and she heard no report of him. So when many days of fruitless waiting had gone by, she arose and going down into the sea, repaired to her mother, who sighting her rose to her and kissed her and embraced her, as did the Mermaids her cousins. Then she questioned her mother of King Badr Basim, and she answered, saying, “O my daughter, of a truth he came hither with his uncle, who took jacinths and jewels and carrying them to King Al–Samandal, demanded his daughter in marriage for thy son but he consented not and was violent against thy brother in words. Now I had sent Salih nigh upon a thousand horse and a battle befel between him and King Al–Samandal; but Allah aided thy brother against him, and he slew his guards and troops and took himself prisoner. Meanwhile, tidings of this reached thy son, and it would seem as if he feared for himself; wherefore he fled forth from us, without our will, and returned not to us, nor have we heard any news of him.” Then Julnar enquired for King Salih, and his mother said, “He is seated on the throne of his kingship, in the stead of King Al–Samandal, and hath sent in all directions to seek thy son and Princess Jauharah.” When Julnar heard the maternal words, she mourned for her son with sad mourning and was highly incensed against her brother Salih for that he had taken him and gone down with him into the sea without her leave; and she said, “O my mother, I fear for our realm; as I came to thee without letting any know; and I dread tarrying with thee, lest the state fall into disorder and the kingdom pass from our hands. Wherefore I deem best to return and govern the reign till it please Allah to order our son’s affair for us. But look ye forget him not neither neglect his case; for should he come to any harm, it would infallibly kill me, since I see not the world save in him and delight but in his life.” She replied, “With love and gladness, O my daughter. Ask not what we suffer by reason of his loss and absence.” Then she sent to seek for her grandson, whilst Julnar returned to her kingdom, weeping-eyed and heavy- hearted, and indeed the gladness of the world was straitened upon her. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kirát” ( ) the bean of the Abrus precatorius, used as a weight in Arabia and India and as a bead for decoration in Africa. It is equal to four Kamhahs or wheat grains and about 3 grs. avoir.; and being the twenty fourth of a miskal, it is applied to that proportion of everything. Thus the Arabs say of a perfect man, “ He is of four-and-twenty Kirát” i.e. pure gold. See vol. iii. 239.
2 The (she) myrtle: Kazimirski (A. de Biberstein) Dictionnaire Arabe–Francais (Pairs Maisonneuve 1867) gives Marsín=Rose de Jericho: myrte.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Queen Juluar returned from her mother to her own realm, her breast was straitened and she was in ill-case. So fared it with her; but as regards King Badr Basim, after Princess Jauharah had ensorcelled him and had sent him with her handmaid to the Thirsty Island, saying, “Leave him there to die of thirst,” and Marsinah had set him down in a green islet, he abode days and nights in the semblance of a bird eating of its fruits and drinking of its waters and knowing not whither to go nor how to fly; till, one day, there came a certain fowler to the island to catch somewhat wherewithal to get his living. He espied King Badr Basim in his form of a white robed bird, with red bill and legs, captivating the sight and bewildering the thought; and, looking thereat, said in himself “Verily, yonder is a beautiful bird: never saw I its like in fairness or form.” So he cast his net over Badr and taking him, carried him to the town, mentally resolved to sell him for a high price. On his way one of the townsfolk accosted him and said, “For how much this fowl, O fowler?” Quoth the fowler, “What wilt thou do with him an thou buy him?” Answered the other, “I will cut his throat and eat him;” whereupon said the birder, “Who could have the heart to kill this bird and eat him? Verily, I mean to present him to our King, who will give me more than thou wouldest give me and will not kill him, but will divert himself by gazing upon his beauty and grace, for in all my life, since I have been a fowler, I never saw his like among land game or water fowl. The utmost thou wouldst give me for him, however much thou covet him, would be a dirham, and, by Allah Almighty I will not sell him!” Then he carried the bird up to the King’s palace and when the King saw it, its beauty and grace pleased him and the red colour of its beak and legs. So he sent an eunuch to buy it, who accosted the fowler and said to him, “Wilt thou sell this bird?” Answered he, “Nay, ’tis a gift from me to the King.’’1 So the eunuch carried the bird to the King and told him what the man had said; and he took it and gave the fowler ten dinars, whereupon he kissed ground and fared forth. Then the eunuch carried the bird to the palace and placing him in a fine cage, hung him up after setting meat and drink by him. When the King came down from the Divan, he said to the eunuch, “Where is the bird? Bring it to me, that I may look upon it; for, by Allah, ’tis beautiful!” So the eunuch brought the cage and set it between the hands of the King, who looked and seeing the food untouched, said, “By Allah, I wis not what it will eat, that I may nourish it!” Then he called for food and they laid the tables and the King ate. Now when the bird saw the flesh and meats and fruits and sweet meats, he ate of all that was upon the trays before the King, whereat the Sovran and all the bystanders marvelled and the King said to his attendants, eunuchs and Mamelukes, “In all my life I never saw a bird eat as doth this bird!” Then he sent an eunuch to fetch his wife that she might enjoy looking upon the bird, and he went in to summon her and said, “O my lady, the King desireth thy presence, that thou mayst divert thyself with the sight of a bird he hath bought. When we set on the food, it flew down from its cage and perching on the table, ate of all that was thereon. So arise, O my lady, and solace thee with the sight for it is goodly of aspect and is a wonder of the wonders of the age.” Hearing these words she came in haste; but, when she noted the bird, she veiled her face and turned to fare away. The King rose up and looking at her, asked, “Why dost thou veil thy face when there is none in presence save the women and eunuchs who wait on thee and thy husband?” Answered she, “O King, this bird is no bird, but a man like thyself.” He rejoined, “Thou liest, this is too much of a jest. How should he be other than a bird?”; and she “O King, by Allah, I do not jest with thee nor do I tell thee aught but the truth; for verily this bird is King Badr Basim, son of King Shahriman, Lord of the land of the Persians, and his mother is Julnar the Sea-born.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Needless to note that the fowler had a right to expect a return present worth double or treble the price of his gift. Such is the universal practice of the East: in the West the extortioner says, “I leave it to you, sir!”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King’s wife said to the King, “Verily, this is no bird but a man like thyself: he is King Badr Basim son of King Shariman and his mother is Julnar the Sea born,” quoth the King, “And how came he in this shape?”; and quoth she, “Princess Jauharah, daughter of King Al–Samandal, hath enchanted him:” and told him all that had passed with King Badr Basim from first to last.1 The King marvelled exceedingly at his wife’s words and conjured her, on his life, to free Badr from his enchantment (for she was the notablest enchantress of her age), and not leave him in torment, saying, “May Almighty Allah cut off Jauharah’s hand, for a foul witch as she is! How little is her faith and how great her craft and perfidy!” Said the Queen, “Do thou say to him, ‘O Badr Basim, enter yonder closet!’” So the King bade him enter the closet and he went in obediently. Then the Queen veiled her face and taking in her hand a cup of water,2 entered the closet where she pronounced over the water certain incomprehensible words ending with, “By the virtue of these mighty names and holy verses and by the majesty of Allah Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, the Quickener of the dead and Appointer of the means of daily bread and the terms determined, quit this thy form wherein thou art and return to the shape in which the Lord created thee!” Hardly had she made an end of her words, when the bird trembled once and became a man; and the King saw before him a handsome youth, than whom on earth’s face was none goodlier. But when King Badr Basim found himself thus restored to his own form he cried, “There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God! Glory be to the Creator of all creatures and Provider of their provision, and Ordainer of their life terms preordained!” Then he kissed the King’s hand and wished him long life, and the King kissed his head and said to him, “O Badr Basim, tell me thy history from commencement to conclusion.” So he told him his whole tale, concealing naught; and the King marvelled thereat and said to him, “O Badr Basim, Allah hath saved thee from the spell: but what hath thy judgment decided and what thinkest thou to do?” Replied he, “O King of the Age, I desire thy bounty that thou equip me a ship with a company of thy servants and all that is needful; for ’tis long since I have been absent and I dread lest the kingdom depart from me. And I misdoubt me my mother is dead of grief for my loss, and this doubt is the stronger for that she knoweth not what is come of me nor whether I am alive or dead. Wherefore, I beseech thee, O King, to crown thy favours to me by granting me what I seek.” The King, after beholding the beauty and grace of Badr Basim and listening to his sweet speech, said, “I hear and obey.” So he fitted him out a ship, to which he transported all that was needful and which he manned with a company of his servants; and Badr Basim set sail in it, after having taken leave of the King. They sailed over the sea ten successive days with a favouring wind; but, on the eleventh day, the ocean became troubled with exceeding trouble, the ship rose and fell and the sailors were powerless to govern her. So they drifted at the mercy of the waves, till the craft neared a rock in mid-sea which fell upon her3 and broke her up and all on board were drowned, save King Badr Basim who got astride one of the planks of the vessel, after having been nigh upon destruction. The plank ceased not to be borne by the set of the sea, whilst he knew not whither he went and had no means of directing its motion, as the wind and waves wrought for three whole days. But on the fourth the plank grounded with him on the sea shore where he sighted a white city, as it were a dove passing white, builded upon a tongue of land that jutted out into the deep and it was goodly of ordinance, with high towers and lofty walls against which the waves beat. When Badr Basim saw this, he rejoiced with exceeding joy, for he was well-nigh dead of hunger and thirst, and dismounting from the plank, would have gone up the beach to the city; but there came down to him mules and asses and horses, in number as the see sends and fell to striking at him and staying him from landing. So he swam round to the back of the city, where he waded to shore and entering the place, found none therein and marvelled at this, saying, “Would I knew to whom cloth this city belong, wherein is no lord nor any liege, and whence came these mules and asses and horses that hindered me from landing.” And he mused over his case. Then he walked on at hazard till he espied an old man, a grocer.4 So he saluted him and the other returned his salam and seeing him to be a handsome young man, said to him, “O youth, whence comest thou and what brought thee to this city?” Badr told him his story; at which the old man marvelled and said, “O my son, didst thou see any on thy way?” He replied, “Indeed, O my father, I wondered in good sooth to sight a city void of folk.” Quoth the Shaykh, my son, come up into the shop, lest thou perish.” So Badr Basim went up into the shop and sat down; whereupon the old man set before him somewhat of food, saying, “O my son, enter the inner shop; glory be to Him who hath preserved thee from yonder she-Sathanas!” King Badr Basim was sore affrighted at the grocer’s words; but he ate his fill and washed his hands then glanced at his host and said to him, “O my lord, what is the meaning of these words? Verily thou hast made me fearful of this city and its folk.” Replied the old man, “Know, O my son that this is the City of the Magicians and its Queen is as she were She-Satan, a sorceress and a mighty enchantress, passing crafty and perfidious exceedingly. All thou sawest of horses and mules and asses were once sons of Adam like thee and me; they were also strangers, for whoever entereth this city, being a young man like thyself this miscreant witch taketh him and hometh him for forty days, after which she enchanteth him, and he becometh a mule or a horse or an ass, of those animals thou sawest on the sea-shore.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 And she does tell him all that the reader well knows.
2 This was for sprinkling him, but the texts omit that operation. Arabic has distinct terms for various forms of metamorphosis. “ Naskh “ is change from a lower to a higher, as beast to man; “ Maskh “ (the common expression) is the reverse, “ Raskh “ is from animate to inanimate (man to stone) and “Faskh” is absolute wasting away to corruption.
3 I render this improbable detail literally: it can only mean that the ship was dashed against a rock.
4 Who was probably squatting on his shop counter. The “Bakkál” (who must not be confounded with the épicier), lit. “vender of herbs” =greengrocer, and according to Richardson used incorrectly for Baddál (?) vendor of provisions. Popularly it is applied to a seller of oil, honey, butter and fruit, like the Ital. “Pizzicagnolo”=Salsamentarius, and in North–West Africa to an inn-keeper.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old grocer related to King Badr Basim the history of the enchantress ending with, “All these people hath she spelled; and, when it was thy intent to land they feared lest thou be transmewed like themselves; so they counselled thee by signs that said, ‘Land not,’ of their solicitude for thee, fearing that haply she should do with thee like as she had done with them. She possessed herself of this city and seized it from its citizens by sorcery and her name is Queen Lab, which being interpreted, meaneth in Arabic ‘Almanac of the Sun.’ “1 When Badr Basim heard what the old man said, he was affrighted with sore affright and trembled like reed in wind saying in himself, “Hardly do I feel me free from the affliction wherein I was by reason of sorcery, when Destiny casteth me into yet sorrier case!” And he fell a-musing over his condition and that which had betided him. When the Shaykh looked at him and saw the violence of his terror, he said to him, “O my son, come, sit at the threshold of the shop and look upon yonder creatures and upon their dress and complexion and that wherein they are by reason of gramarye and dread not; for the Queen and all in the city love and tender me and will not vex my heart or trouble my mind.” So King Badr Basim came out and sat at the shop door, looking out upon the folk; and there passed by him a world of creatures without number. But when the people saw him, they accosted the grocer and said to him, “O elder, is this thy captive and thy prey gotten in these days?” The old man replied, “He is my brother’s son, I heard that his father was dead; so I sent for him and brought him here that I might quench with him the fire of my home sickness.” Quoth they, “Verily, he is a comely youth; but we fear for him from Queen Lab, lest she turn on thee with treachery and take him from thee, for she loveth handsome young men.” Quoth the Shaykh, “The Queen will not gainsay my commandment, for she loveth and tendereth me; and when she shall know that he is my brother’s son, she will not molest him or afflict me in him neither trouble my heart on his account.” Then King Badr Basim abode some months with the grocer, eating and drinking, and the old man loved him with exceeding love. One day, as he sat in the shop according to his custom, behold, there came up a thousand eunuchs, with drawn swords and clad in various kinds of raiment and girt with jewelled girdles: all rode Arabian steeds and bore in baldrick Indian blades. They saluted the grocer, as they passed his shop and were followed by a thousand damsels like moons, clad in various raiments of silks and satins fringed with gold and embroidered with jewels of sorts, and spears were slung to their shoulders. In their midst rode a damsel mounted on a Rabite mare, saddled with a saddle of gold set with various kinds of jewels and jacinths; and they reached in a body the Shaykh’s shop. The damsels saluted him and passed on, till, lo and behold! up came Queen Lab, in great state, and seeing King Badr Basim sitting in the shop, as he were the moon at its full, was amazed at his beauty and loveliness and became passionately enamoured of him, and distraught with desire of him. So she alighted and sitting down by King Badr Basim said to the old man, “Whence hadst thou this handsome one?”; and the Shaykh replied, “He is my brother’s son, and is lately come to me.” Quoth Lab, “Let him be with me this night, that I may talk with him;’ and quoth the old man, “Wilt thou take him from me and not enchant him?” Said she, “Yes,” and said he, Swear to me.” So she sware to him that she would not do him any hurt or ensorcell him, and bidding bring him a fine horse, saddled and bridled with a golden bridle and decked with trappings all of gold set with jewels, gave the old man a thousand dinars saying, “Use this.’’2 Then she took Badr Basim and carried him off, as he were the full moon on its fourteenth night, whilst all the folk, seeing his beauty, were grieved for him and said, “By Allah, verily, this youth deserveth not to be bewitched by yonder sorceress, the accursed!” Now King Badr Basim heard all they said, but was silent, committing his case to Allah Almighty, till they came to — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here the Shaykh is mistaken: he should have said, “The Sun in old Persian.” “Almanac” simply makes nonsense of the Arabian Circe’s name. In Arab. it is “Takwím,” whence the Span. and Port. “Tacuino:” in Heb. Hakamathá-Takunah=sapientia dis positionis astrorum (Asiat. Research. iii.120).
2 i.e. for thy daily expenses.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Badr Basim ceased not faring with Queen Lab and her suite till they came to her palace-gate, where the Emirs and eunuchs and Lords of the realm took foot and she bade the Chamberlains dismiss her Officers and Grandees, who kissed ground and went away, whilst she entered the palace with Badr Basim and her eunuchs and women. Here he found a place, whose like he had never seen at all, for it was builded of gold and in its midst was a great basin brimfull of water midmost a vast flower-garden. He looked at the garden and saw it abounding in birds of various kinds and colours, warbling in all manner tongues and voices pleasurable and plaintive. And everywhere he beheld great state and dominion and said, “Glory be to God, who of His bounty and long suffering provideth those who serve other than Himself!” The Queen sat down at a latticed window overlooking the garden on a couch of ivory, whereon was a high bed, and King Badr Basim seated himself by her side. She kissed him and pressing him to her breast, bade her women bring a tray of food. So they brought a tray of red gold, inlaid with pearls and jewels and spread with all manner of viands and he and she ate, till they were satisfied, and washed their hands; after which the waiting women set on flagons of gold and silver and glass, together with all kinds of flowers and dishes of dried fruits. Then the Queen summoned the singing-women and there came ten maidens, as they were moons, bending all manner of musical instruments. Queen Lab crowned a cup and drinking it off, filled another and passed it to King Badr Basim, who took and drank; and they ceased not to drink till they had their sufficiency. Then she bade the damsels sing, and they sang all manner modes till it seemed to Badr Basim as if the palace danced with him for joy. His sense was ecstasied and his breast broadened, and he forgot his strangerhood and said in himself, “Verily, this Queen is young and beautiful1 and I will never leave her; for her kingdom is vaster than my kingdom and she is fairer than Princess Jauharah.’’ So he ceased not to drink with her till even tide came, when they lighted the lamps and waxen candles and diffused censer-perfumes; nor did they leave drinking, till they were both drunken, and the singing women sang the while. Then Queen Lab, being in liquor, rose from her seat and lay down on a bed and dismissing her women called to Badr Basim to come and sleep by her side. So he lay with her, in all delight of life till the morning. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Un adolescent aime toutes les femmes. Man is by nature polygamic whereas woman as a rule is monogamic and polyandrous only when tired of her lover. For the man, as has been truly said, loves the woman, but the love of the woman is for the love of the man.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Queen awoke she repaired to the Hammam-bath in the palace, King Badr Basim being with her, and they bathed and were purified; after which she clad him in the finest of raiment and called for the service of wine. So the waiting women brought the drinking-gear and they drank. Presently, the Queen arose and taking Badr Basim by the hand, sat down with him on chairs and bade bring food, whereof they ate, and washed their hands. Then the damsels fetched the drinking gear and fruits and flowers and confections, and they ceased not to eat and drink,1 whilst the singing-girls sang various airs till the evening. They gave not over eating and drinking and merry-making for a space of forty days, when the Queen said to him, “O Badr Basim, say me whether is the more pleasant, this place or the shop of thine uncle the grocer?” He replied, “By Allah, O Queen, this is the pleasenter, for my uncle is but a beggarly man, who vendeth pot-herbs.” She laughed at his words and the twain lay together in the pleasantest of case till the morning, when King Badr Basim awoke from sleep and found not Queen Lab by his side, so he said, “Would Heaven I knew where can she have gone!” And indeed he was troubled at her absence and perplexed about the case, for she stayed away from him a great while and did not return; so he donned his dress and went seeking her but not finding her, and he said to himself, “Haply, she is gone to the flower-garden.” Thereupon he went out into the garden and came to a running rill beside which he saw a white she-bird and on the stream-bank a tree full of birds of various colours, and he stood and watched the birds without their seeing him. And behold, a black bird flew down upon that white-she bird and fell to billing her pigeon-fashion, then he leapt on her and trod her three consecutive times, after which the bird changed and became a woman. Badr looked at her and lo! it was Queen Lab. So he knew that the black bird was a man transmewed and that she was enamoured of him and had transformed herself into a bird, that he might enjoy her; wherefore jealousy got hold upon him and he was wroth with the Queen because of the black bird. Then he returned to his place and lay down on the carpet-bed and after an hour or so she came back to him and fell to kissing him and jesting with him; but being sore incensed against her he answered her not a word. She saw what was to do with him and was assured that he had witnessed what befel her when she was a white bird and was trodden by the black bird; yet she discovered naught to him but concealed what ailed her. When he had done her need, he said to her, “O Queen, I would have thee give me leave to go to my uncle’s shop, for I long after him and have not seen him these forty days.” She replied, “Go to him but tarry not from me, for I cannot brook to be parted from thee, nor can I endure without thee an hour.” He said, “I hear and I obey,” and mounting, rode to the shop of the Shaykh, the grocer, who welcomed him and rose to him and embracing him said to him, “How hast thou fared with yonder idolatress?” He replied, “I was well in health and happiness till this last night,” and told him what had passed in the garden with the black bird.2 Now when the old man heard his words, he said, “Beware of her, for know that the birds upon the tree were all young men and strangers, whom she loved and enchanted and turned into birds. That black bird thou sawest was one of her Mamelukes whom she loved with exceeding love, till he cast his eyes upon one of her women, wherefore she changed him into a black bird”; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 I have already noted that the heroes and heroines of Eastern love-tales are always bonne fourchettes: they eat and drink hard enough to scandalise the sentimental amourist of the West; but it is understood that this abundant diet is necessary to qualify them for the Herculean labours of the love night.
2 Here again a little excision is necessary; the reader already knows all about it.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Badr Basim acquainted the old grocer with all the doings of Queen Lab and what he had seen of her proceedings, the Shaykh gave him to know that all the birds upon the tree were young men and strangers whom she had enchanted, and that the black bird was one of her Mamelukes whom she had transmewed. “And,” continued the Shaykh, “whenas she lusteth after him she transformeth herself into a she-bird that he may enjoy her, for she still loveth him with passionate love. When she found that thou knewest of her case, she plotted evil against thee, for she loveth thee not wholly. But no harm shall betide thee from her, so long as I protect thee; therefore fear nothing; for I am a Moslem, by name Abdallah, and there is none in my day more magical than I; yet do I not make use of gramarye save upon constraint. Many a time have I put to naught the sorceries of yonder accursed and delivered folk from her, and I care not for her, because she can do me no hurt: nay, she feareth me with exceeding fear, as do all in the city who, like her, are magicians and serve the fire, not the Omnipotent Sire. So to-morrow, come thou to me and tell me what she doth with thee; for this very night she will cast about to destroy thee, and I will tell thee how thou shalt do with her, that thou mayst save thyself from her malice.” Then King Badr Basim farewelled the Shaykh and returned to the Queen whom he found awaiting him. When she saw him, she rose and seating him and welcoming him brought him meat and drink and the two ate till they had enough and washed their hands; after which she called for wine and they drank till the night was well nigh half spent, when she plied him with cup after cup till he was drunken and lost sense1 and wit. When she saw him thus, she said to him, “I conjure thee by Allah and by whatso thou worshippest, if I ask thee a question wilt thou inform me rightly and answer me truly?” And he being drunken, answered, “Yes, O my lady.” Quoth she, “O my lord and light of mine eyes, when thou awokest last night and foundest me not, thou soughtest me, till thou sawest me in the garden under the guise of a white she-bird, and also thou sawest the black bird leap on me and tread me. Now I will tell the truth of this matter. That black bird was one of my Mamelukes, whom I loved with exceeding love; but one day he cast his eyes upon a certain of my slave-girls, wherefore jealousy gat hold upon me and I transformed him by my spells into a black bird and her I slew. But now I cannot endure without him a single hour, so, whenever I lust after him, I change myself into a she — bird and go to him, that he may leap me and enjoy me, even as thou hast seen. Art thou not therefore incensed against me, because of this, albeit by the virtue of Fire and Light, Shade and Heat, I love thee more than ever and have made thee my portion of the world?” He answered (being drunken), “Thy conjecture of the cause of my rage is correct, and it had no reason other than this.” With this she embraced him and kissed him and made great show of love to him; then she lay down to sleep and he by her side Presently about midnight she rose from the carpet-bed and King Badr Basim was awake; but he feigned sleep and watched stealthily to see what she would do. She took out of a red bag a something red, which she planted a-middlemost the chamber, and it became a stream, running like the sea; after which she took a handful of barley and strewing it on the ground, watered it with water from the river; whereupon it became wheat in the ear, and she gathered it and ground it into flour. Then she set it aside and returning to bed, lay down by Badr Basim till morning when he arose and washed his face and asked her leave to visit the Shaykh his uncle. She gave him permission and he repaired to Abdallah and told him what had passed. The old man laughed and said, “By Allah, this miscreant witch plotteth mischief against thee; but reck thou not of her ever!” Then he gave him a pound of parched corn2 and said to him, “Take this with thee and know that, when she seeth it, she will ask thee, ‘What is this and what wilt thou do with it?’ Do thou answer, ‘Abundance of good things is good’; and eat of it. Then will she bring forth to thee parched grain of her own and say to thee, ‘Eat of this Sawik; and do thou feign to her that thou eatest thereof, but eat of this instead, and beware and have a care lest thou eat of hers even a grain; for, an thou eat so much as a grain thereof, her spells will have power over thee and she will enchant thee and say to thee, ‘Leave this form of a man.’ Whereupon thou wilt quit thine own shape for what shape she will. But, an thou eat not thereof, her enchantments will be null and void and no harm will betide thee therefrom; whereat she will be shamed with shame exceeding and say to thee, ‘I did but jest with thee!’ Then will she make a show of love and fondness to thee; but this will all be but hypocrisy in her and craft. And do thou also make a show of love to her and say to her, ‘O my lady and light of mine eyes, eat of this parched barley and see how delicious it is.’ And if she eat thereof, though it be but a grain, take water in thy hand and throw it in her face, saying, ‘Quit this human form’ (for what form soever thou wilt have her take). Then leave her and come to me and I will counsel thee what to do.” So Badr Basim took leave of him and returning to the palace, went in to the Queen, who said to him, “Welcome and well come and good cheer to thee!” And she rose and kissed him, saying, “Thou hast tarried long from me, O my lord.” He replied, “I have been with my uncle, and he gave me to eat of this Sawik.” Quoth she, “We have better than that.” Then she laid his parched Sawik in one plate and hers in another and said to him, “Eat of this, for ’tis better than thine.” So he feigned to eat of it and when she thought he had done so, she took water in her hand and sprinkled him therewith, saying, “Quit this form, O thou gallows — bird, thou miserable, and take that of a mule one- eyed and foul of favour.” But he changed not; which when she saw, she arose and went up to him and kissed him between the eyes, saying, “O my beloved, I did but jest with thee; bear me no malice because of this.” Quoth he, “O my lady, I bear thee no whit of malice; nay, I am assured that thou lovest me: but eat of this my parched barley.” So she ate a mouthful of Abdallah’s Sawik; but no sooner had it settled in her stomach than she was convulsed; and King Badr Basim took water in his palm and threw it in her face, saying, “Quit this human form and take that of a dapple mule.” No sooner had he spoken than she found herself changed into a she-mule, whereupon the tears rolled down her cheeks and she fell to rubbing her muzzle against his feet. Then he would have bridled her, but she would not take the bit; so he left her and, going to the grocer, told him what had passed. Abdallah brought out for him a bridle and bade him rein her forthwith. So he took it to the palace, and when she saw him, she came up to him and he set the bit in her mouth and mounting her, rode forth to find the Shaykh. But when the old man saw her, he rose and said to her, “Almighty Allah confound thee, O accursed woman!” Then quoth he to Badr, “O my son, there is no more tarrying for thee in this city; so ride her and fare with her whither thou wilt and beware lest thou commit the bridle3 to any.” King Badr thanked him and farewelling him, fared on three days, without ceasing, till he drew near another city and there met him an old man, gray headed and comely, who said to him, “Whence comest thou, O my son?” Badr replied, “From the city of this witch”; and the old man said, “Thou art my guest to-night.” He consented and went with him; but by the way behold, they met an old woman, who wept when she saw the mule, and said, “There is no god but the God! Verily, this mule resembleth my son’s she-mule, which is dead, and my heart acheth for her; so, Allah upon thee, O my lord, do thou sell her to me!” He replied, “By Allah, O my mother, I cannot sell her.” But she cried, “Allah upon thee, do not refuse my request, for my son will surely be a dead man except I buy him this mule.” And she importuned him, till he exclaimed, “I will not sell her save for a thousand dinars,” saying in himself, “Whence should this old woman get a thousand gold pieces?” Thereupon she brought out from her girdle a purse containing a thousand ducats, which when King Badr Basim saw, he said, “O my mother, I did but jest with thee; I cannot sell her.” But the old man looked at him and said, “O my son, in this city none may lie, for whoso lieth they put to death.” So King Badr Basim lighted down from the mule. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Hiss,” prop. speaking a perception (as of sound or motion) as opposed to “Hades,” a surmise or opinion without proof.
2 Arab. “Sawík,” the old and modern name for native frumenty, green grain (mostly barley) toasted, pounded, mixed with dates or sugar and eaten on journeys when cooking is impracticable. M. C. de Perceval (iii. 54), gives it a different and now unknown name; and Mr. Lane also applies it to “ptisane.” It named the “ Day of Sawaykah “ (for which see Pilgrimage ii. 19), called by our popular authors the “ War of the Meal-sacks.”
3 Mr. Keightley (H. 122–24 Tales and Popular Fictions, a book now somewhat obsolete) remarks, “There is nothing said about the bridle in the account of the sale (infra), but I am sure that in the original tale, Badr’s misfortunes must have been owing to his having parted with it. In Chaucer’s Squier’s Tale the bridle would also appear to have been of some importance. “He quotes a story from the Notti Piacevoli of Straparola, the Milanese, published at Venice in 1550. And there is a popular story of the kind in Germany.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Badr Basim dismounted from and delivered the mule to the old woman, she drew the bit from her mouth and, taking water in her hand, sprinkled the mule therewith, saying, “O my daughter, quit this shape for that form wherein thou wast aforetime!” Upon this she was straightway restored to her original semblance and the two women embraced and kissed each other. So King Badr Basim knew that the old woman was Queen Lab’s mother and that he had been tricked and would have fled; when, lo! the old woman whistled a loud whistle and her call was obeyed by an Ifrit as he were a great mountain, whereat Badr was affrighted and stood still. Then the old woman mounted on the Ifrit’s back, taking her daughter behind her and King Badr Basim before her, and the Ifrit flew off with them; nor was it a full hour ere they were in the palace of Queen Lab, who sat down on the throne of kingship and said to Badr, “Gallows-bird that thou art, now am I come hither and have attained to that I desired and soon will I show thee how I will do with thee and with yonder old man the grocer! How many favours have I shown him! Yet he cloth me frowardness; for thou hast not attained thine end but by means of him.” Then she took water and sprinkled him therewith, saying, “Quit the shape wherein thou art for the form of a foul-favoured fowl, the foulest of all fowls”; and she set him in a cage and cut off from him meat and drink; but one of her women seeing this cruelty, took compassion on him and gave him food and water without her knowledge. One day, the damsel took her mistress at unawares and going forth the palace, repaired to the old grocer, to whom she told the whole case, saying, “Queen Lab is minded to make an end of thy brother’s son.” The Shaykh thanked her and said, “There is no help but that I take the city from her and make thee Queen thereof in her stead.” Then he whistled a loud whistle and there came forth to him an Ifrit with four wings, to whom he said, “Take up this damsel and carry her to the city of Julnar the Sea-born and her mother Faráshah1 for they twain are the most powerful magicians on face of earth.” And he said to the damsel, “When thou comest thither, tell them that King Badr Basim is Queen Lab’s captive.” Then the Ifrit took up his load and, flying off with her, in a little while set her down upon the terrace roof of Queen Julnar’s palace. So she descended and going in to the Queen, kissed the earth and told her what had passed to her son, first and last, whereupon Julnar rose to her and entreated her with honour and thanked her. Then she let beat the drums in the city and acquainted her lieges and the lords of her realm with the good news that King Badr Basim was found after which she and her mother Farashah and her brother Salih assembled all the tribes of the Jinn and the troops of the main; for the Kings of the Jinn obeyed them since the taking of King Al–Samandal. Presently they all flew up into the air and lighting down on the city of the sorceress, sacked the town and the palace and slew all the Unbelievers therein in the twinkling of an eye. Then said Julnar to the damsel, “Where is my son?” And the slave girl brought her the cage and signing to the bird within, cried, “This is thy son.” So Julnar took him forth of the cage and sprinkled him with water, saying, “Quit this shape for the form wherein thou wast aforetime;” nor had she made an end of her speech ere he shook and became a man as before: whereupon his mother, seeing him restored to human shape, embraced him and he wept with sore weeping. On like wise did his uncle Salih and his grandmother and the daughters of his uncle and fell to kissing his hands and feet. Then Julnar sent for Shaykh Abdallah and thanking him for his kind dealing with her son, married him to the damsel, whom he had despatched to her with news of him, and made him King of the city. Moreover, she summoned those who survived of the citizens (and they were Moslems), and made them swear fealty to him and take the oath of loyalty, whereto they replied, “Hearkening and obedience!” Then she and her company farewelled him and returned to their own capital. The townsfolk came out to meet them, with drums beating, and decorated the place three days and held high festival, of the greatness of their joy for the return of their King Badr Basim. After this Badr said to his mother, “O my mother, naught remains but that I marry and we be all united.” She replied, “Right is thy rede, O my son, but wait till we ask who befitteth thee among the daughters of the Kings.” And his grandmother Farashah, and the daughters of both his uncles said, “O Badr Basim, we will help thee to win thy wish forthright.” Then each of them arose and fared forth questing in the lands, whilst Julnar sent out her waiting women on the necks of Ifrits, bidding them leave not a city nor a King’s palace without noting all the handsome girls that were therein. But, when King Badr Basim saw the trouble they were taking in this matter, he said to Julnar, “O my mother, leave this thing, for none will content me save Jauharah, daughter of King Al–Samandal; for that she is indeed a jewel,2 according to her name.” Replied Julnar, “I know that which thou seekest;” and bade forthright bring Al–Samandal the King. As soon as he was present, she sent for Badr Basim and acquainted him with the King’s coming, whereupon he went in to him. Now when Al–Samandal was aware of his presence, he rose to him and saluted him and bade him welcome; and King Badr Basim demanded of him his daughter Jauharah in marriage. Quoth he, “She is thine handmaid and at thy service and disposition,” and despatched some of his suite bidding them seek her abode and, after telling her that her sire was in the hands of King Badr Basim, to bring her forthright. So they flew up into the air and disappeared and they returned after a while, with the Princess who, as soon as she saw her father, went up to him and threw her arms round his neck. Then looking at her he said, “O my daughter, know that I have given thee in wedlock to this magnanimous Sovran, and valiant lion King Badr Basim, son of Queen Julnar the Sea-born, for that he is the goodliest of the folk of his day and most powerful and the most exalted of them in degree and the noblest in rank; he befitteth none but thee and thou none but him.” Answered she, “I may not gainsay thee, O my sire do as thou wilt, for indeed chagrin and despite are at an end, and I am one of his handmaids.” So they summoned the Kazi and the witnesses who drew up the marriage contract between King Badr Basim and the Princess Jauharah, and the citizens decorated the city and beat the drums of rejoicing, and they released all who were in the jails, whilst the King clothed the widows and the orphans and bestowed robes of honour upon the Lords of the Realm and Emirs and Grandees: and they made bride-feasts and held high festival night and morn ten days, at the end of which time they displayed the bride, in nine different dresses, before King Badr Basim who bestowed an honourable robe upon King Al-Samandal and sent him back to his country and people and kinsfolk. And they ceased not from living the most delectable of life and the most solaceful of days, eating and drinking and enjoying every luxury, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of Societies; and this is the end of their story3, may Allah have mercy on them all! Moreover, O auspicious King, a tale is also told anent
1 Here, for the first time we find the name of the mother who has often been mentioned in the story. Faráshah is the fem. or singular form of “Farásh,” a butterfly, a moth. Lane notes that his Shaykh gives it the very unusual sense of “a locust.”
2 Punning upon Jauharah= “a jewel” a name which has an Hibernian smack.
3 In the old version “All the lovers of the Magic Queen resumed their pristine forms as soon as she ceased to live;” moreover, they were all sons of kings, princes, or persons of high degree.
There was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, a King of the Kings of the Persians, by name Mohammed bin Sabáik, who ruled over Khorásán-land and used every year to go on razzia into the countries of the Miscreants in Hind and Sind and China and the lands of Máwarannahr beyond the Oxus and other regions of the barbarians and what not else. He was a just King, a valiant and a generous, and loved table-talk1 and tales and verses and anecdotes and histories and entertaining stories and legends of the ancients. Whoso knew a rare recital and related it to him in such fashion as to please him he would bestow on him a sumptuous robe of honour and clothe him from head to foot and give him a thousand dinars, and mount him on a horse saddled and bridled besides other great gifts; and the man would take all this and wend his way. Now it chanced that one day there came an old man before him and related to him a rare story, which pleased the King and made him marvel, so he ordered him a magnificent present, amongst other things a thousand dinars of Khorasan and a horse with its housings and trappings. After this, the bruit of the King’s munificence was blazed abroad in all countries and there heard of him a man, Hasan the Merchant hight, who was a generous, open-handed and learned, a scholar and an accomplished poet. Now the King had an envious Wazir, a multum-in-parvo of ill, loving no man, rich nor poor, and whoso came before the King and he gave him aught he envied him and said, “Verily, this fashion annihilateth wealth and ruineth the land; and such is the custom of the King.” But this was naught save envy and despite in that Minister. Presently the King heard talk of Hasan the Merchant and sending for him, said to him as soon as he came into the presence, “O Merchant Hasan, this Wazir of mine vexeth and thwarteth me concerning the money I give to poets and boon-companions and story-tellers and glee-men, and I would have thee tell me a goodly history and a rare story, such as I have never before heard. An it please me, I will give thee lands galore, with their forts, in free tenure, in addition to thy fiefs and untaxed lands; besides which I will put my whole kingdom in thy hands and make thee my Chief Wazir; so shalt thy sit on my right hand and rule my subjects. But an thou bring me not that which I bid thee, I will take all that is thy hand and banish thee my realm.” Replied Hasan, “Hearkening and obedience to our lord the King! But thy slave beseecheth thee to have patience with him a year; then will he tell thee a tale, such as thou hast never in thy life heard, neither hath other than thou heard its like, not to say a better than it.” Quoth the King, “I grant thee a whole year’s delay.” And he called for a costly robe of honour wherein he robed Hasan, saying, “Keep thy house and mount not horse, neither go nor come for a year’s time, till thou bring me that I seek of thee. An thou bring it, especial favour awaiteth thee and thou mayst count upon that which I have promised thee; but an thou bring it not, thou art not of us nor are we of thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Munádamah,” = conversation over the cup (Lane), used somewhat in the sense of “Musámarah” = talks by moonlight.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Mohammed son of Sabaik said to Hasan the Merchant, “An thou bring me that I seek of thee, especial favour awaiteth thee and thou mayest now rejoice in that which I have promised thee; but, an thou bring it not, thou art not of us nor are we of thee.” Hasan kissed ground before the King and went out from the presence. Then he chose five of the best of his Mamelukes, who could all write and read and were learned, intelligent, accomplished; and he gave each of them five thousand dinars, saying, “I reared you not save for the like of this day; so do ye help me to further the King’s desire and deliver me from his hand.” Quoth they, “What wilt thou have us do? Our lives be thy ransom!” Quoth he, “I wish you to go each to a different country and seek out diligently the learned and erudite and literate and the tellers of wondrous stories and marvellous histories and do your endeavour to procure me the story of Sayf al-Mulúk. If ye find it with any one, pay him what price soever he asketh for it although he demand a thousand dinars; give him what ye may and promise him the rest and bring me the story; for whoso happeneth on it and bringeth it to me, I will bestow on him a costly robe of honour and largesse galore, and there shall be to me none more worshipped than he.” Then said he to one of them, “Hie thou to Al–Hind and Al–Sind and all their provinces and dependencies.” To another, “Hie thou to the home of the Persians and to China and her climates.” To the third, “Hie thou to the land of Khorasan with its districts.” To the fourth, “Hie thou to Mauritania and all its regions, districts, provinces and quarters.” And to the fifth, “Hie thou to Syria and Egypt and their outliers.” Moreover, he chose them out an auspicious day and said to them, “Fare ye forth this day and be diligent in the accomplishment of my need and be not slothful, though the case cost you your lives.” So they farewelled him and departed, each taking the direction perscribed to him. Now, four of them were absent four months, and searched but found nothing; so they returned and told their master, whose breast was straitened, that they had ransacked towns and cities and countries for the thing he sought, but had happened upon naught thereof. Meanwhile, the fifth servant journeyed till he came to the land of Syria and entered Damascus, which he found a pleasant city and a secure, abounding in trees and rills, leas and fruiteries and birds chanting the praises of Allah the One, the All-powerful of sway, Creator of Night and Day. Here he tarried some time, asking for his master’s desire, but non answered him, wherefore he was on the point of departing thence to another place, when he met a young man running and stumbling over his skirts. So he asked of him, “Wherefore runnest thou in such eagerness and whither dost thou press?” And he answered, “There is an elder here, a man of learning, who every day at this time taketh his seat on a stool1 and relateth tales and stories and delectable anecdotes, whereof never heard any the like; and I am running to get me a place near him and fear I shall find no room, because of the much folk.” Quoth the Mameluke, “Take me with thee;” and quoth the youth, “Make haste in thy walking.” So he shut his door and hastened with him to the place of recitation, where he saw an old man of bright favour seated on a stool holding forth to the folk. He sat down near him and addressed himself to hear his story, till the going down of the sun, when the old man made an end of his tale and the people, having heard it all, dispersed from about him; whereupon the Mameluke accosted him and saluted him, and he returned his salam and greeted him with the utmost worship and courtesy. Then said the messenger to him, “O my lord Shaykh, thou art a comely and reverend man, and thy discourse is goodly; but I would fain ask thee of somewhat.” Replied the old man, “Ask of what thou wilt!” Then said the Mameluke, “Hast thou the story of Sayf al-Muluk and Badí‘a al-Jamál?” Rejoined the elder, “And who told thee of this story and informed thee thereof?” Answered the messenger, “None told me of it, but I am come from a far country, in quest of this tale, and I will pay thee whatever thou askest for its price if thou have it and wilt, of thy bounty and charity, impart it to me and make it an alms to me, of the generosity of thy nature for, had I my life in my hand and lavished it upon thee for this thing, yet were it pleasing to my heart.” Replied the old man, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eye cool and clear: thou shalt have it; but this is no story that one telleth in the beaten highway, nor do I give it to every one.” Cried the other, “By Allah, O my lord, do not grudge it me, but ask of me what price thou wilt.” And the old man, “If thou wish for the history give me an hundred dinars and thou shalt have it; but upon five conditions.” Now when the Mameluke knew that the old man had the story and was willing to sell it to him, he joyed with exceeding joy and said, “I will give thee the hundred dinars by way of price and ten to boot as a gratuity and take it on the conditions of which thou speakest.” Said the old man, “Then go and fetch the gold pieces, and take that thou seekest.” So the messenger kissed his hands and joyful and happy returned to his lodging, where he laid an hundred and ten dinars2 in a purse he had by him. As soon as morning morrowed, he donned his clothes and taking the dinars, repaired to the story-teller, whom he found seated at the door of his house. So he saluted him and the other returned his salam. Then he gave him the gold and the old man took it and carrying the messenger into his house made him sit down in a convenient place, when he set before him ink-case and reed-pen and paper and giving him a book, said to him, “Write out what thou seekest of the night-story3 of Sayf al-Muluk from this book.” Accordingly the Mameluke fell to work and wrote till he had made an end of his copy, when he read it to the old man, and he corrected it and presently said to him, “Know, O my son, that my five conditions are as follows; firstly, that thou tell not this story in the beaten high road nor before women and slave-girls nor to black slaves nor feather-heads; nor again to boys; but read it only before Kings and Emirs and Wazirs and men of learning, such as expounders of the Koran and others.” Thereupon the messenger accepted the conditions and kissing the old man’shand, took leave of him, and fared forth. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kursi,” a word of many meanings; here it would allure to the square crate-like seat of palm-fronds used by the Ráwi or public reciter of tales when he is not pacing about the coffee-house.
2 Von Hammer remarks that this is precisely the sum paid in Egypt for a Ms. copy of The Nights.
3 Arab. “Samar,” the origin of Musámarah, which see, vol. iv. 237.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Mameluke of Hasan the Merchant had copied the tale out of the book belonging to the old man of Damascus, and had accepted his conditions and farewelled him, he fared forth on the same day, glad and joyful, and journeyed on diligently, of the excess of his contentment, for that he had gotten the story of Sayf al-Muluk, till he came to his own country, when he despatched his servant to bear the good news to his master and say to him, “Thy Mameluke is come back in safety and hath won his will and his aim.” (Now of the term appointed between Hasan and the King there wanted but ten days.) Then, after taking rest in his own quarters he himself went in to the Merchant and told him all that had befallen him and gave him the book containing the story of Sayf al-Muluk and Badi’a al-Jamal, when Hasan joyed with exceeding joy at the sight and bestowed on him all the clothes he had on and gave him ten thoroughbred horses and the like number of camels and mules and three negro chattels and two white slaves. Then Hasan took the book and copied out the story plainly in his own hand; after which he presented himself before the King and said to him, “O thou auspicious King, I have brought thee a night-story and a rarely pleasant relation, whose like none ever heard at all.” When these words reached the King’s ear, he sent forthright for all the Emirs, who were men of understanding, and all the learned doctors and folk of erudition and culture and poets and wits; and Hasan sat down and read the history before the King, who marvelled thereat and approved it, as did all who were present, and they showered gold and silver and jewels upon the Merchant. Moreover, the King bestowed on him a costly robe of honour of the richest of his raiment and gave him a great city with its castles and outliers; and he appointed him one of his Chief Wazirs and seated him on his right hand. Then he caused the scribes write the story in letters of gold and lay it up in his privy treasures: and whenever his breast was straitened, he would summon Hasan and he would read him the story,1 which was as follows:—
1 The pomp and circumstance, with which the tale is introduced to the reader showing the importance attached to it. Lane, most inudiciously I think, transfers the Proemium to a note in chapt. xxiv., thus converting an Arabian Night into an Arabian Note.
There was once, in days of old and in ages and times long told, a King in Egypt called Asim bin Safwán,1 who was a liberal and beneficent sovran, venerable and majestic. He owned many cities and sconces and fortresses and troops and warriors and had a Wazir named Fáris bin Sálih,2 and he and all his subjects worshipped the sun and the fire, instead of the All-powerful Sire, the Glorious, the Victorious. Now this King was become a very old man, weakened and wasted with age and sickness and decrepitude; for he had lived an hundred and fourscore years and had no child, male or female, by reason whereof he was ever in cark and care from morning to night and from night to morn. It so happened that one day of the days, he was sitting on the throne of his Kingship, with his Emirs and Wazirs and Captains and Grandees in attendance on him, according to their custom, in their several stations, and whenever there came in an Emir, who had with him a son or two sons, or haply three who stood at the sides of their sires the King envied him and said in himself, “Every one of these is happy and rejoiceth in his children, whilst I, I have no child, and to-morrow I die and leave my reign and throne and lands and hoards, and strangers will take them and none will bear me in memory nor will there remain any mention of me in the world.” Then he became drowned in the sea of thought and for the much thronging of griefs and anxieties upon his hear, like travellers faring for the well, he shed tears and descending from his throne, sat down upon the floor,3 weeping and humbling himself before the Lord. Now when the Wazir and notables of the realm and others who were present in the assembly saw him do thus with his royal person, they feared for their lives and let the poursuivants cry aloud to the lieges, saying, “Hie ye to your homes and rest till the King recover from what aileth him.” So they went away, leaving none in the presence save the Minister who, as soon as the King came to himself, kissed ground between his hands and said, “O King of the Age and the Time, wherefore this weeping and wailing? Tell me who hath transgressed against thee of the Kings or Castellans or Emirs or Grandees, and inform me who hath thwarted thee, O my liege lord, that we may all fall on him and tear his soul from his two sides.” But he spake not neither raised his head; whereupon the Minister kissed ground before him a second time and said to him, “O Master,4 I am even as thy son and thy slave, nay, I have reared thee; yet know I not the cause of thy cark and chagrin and of this thy case; and who should know but I who should stand in my stead between thy hands? Tell me therefore why this weeping and wherefore thine affliction.” Nevertheless, the King neither opened his mouth nor raised his head, but ceased not to weep and cry with a loud crying and lament with exceeding lamentation and ejaculate, “Alas!” The Wazir took patience with him awhile, after which he said to him, “Except thou tell me the cause of this thine affliction, I will set this sword to my heart and will slay myself before thine eyes, rather than see thee thus distressed.” Then King Asim raised his head and, wiping away his tears, said, “O Minister of good counself and experience, leave me to my care and my chagrin, for that which is in my heart of sorrow sufficeth me.” But Faris said, “Tell me, O King, the cause of this thy weeping, haply Allah will appoint thee relief at my hands.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 ‘Asim = defending (honour) or defended, son of Safwán = clear, cold (dry). Trébutien ii. 126, has Safran.
2 Fáris = the rider, the Knight, son of Sálih = the righteous, the pious, the just.
3 In sign of the deepest dejection, when a man would signify that he can fall no lower.
4 Arab. Yá Khawand (in Bresl. Edit. vol. iv. 191) and fem. form Khawandah (p. 20) from Pers. Kháwand or Kháwandagár = superior, lord, master; Khudáwand is still used in popular as in classical Persian, and is universally understood in Hindostan.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir said to King Asim, “Tell me the cause of this thy weeping: haply Allah shall appoint thee relief at my hands.” Replied the King, “O Wazir, I weep not for monies nor horses nor kingdoms nor aught else, but that I am become an old man, yea, very old, nigh upon an hundred and fourscore years of age, and I have not been blessed with a child, male or female; so, when I die, they will bury me and my trace will be effaced and my name cut off; the stranger will take my throne and reign and none will ever make mention of my being.” Rejoined the Minister Faris, “O King of the Age, I am older than thou by an hundred years yet have I never been blest with boon of child and cease not day and night from cark and care and concern; so how shall we do, I and thou?” Quoth Asim, “O Wazir, hast thou no device or shift in this matter?” and quoth the Minister, “Know, O King that I have heard of a Sovran in the land of Sabá1 by name Solomon David-son (upon the twain be the Peace!),2 who pretendeth to prophetship and avoucheth that he hath a mighty Lord who can do all things and whose kingdom is in the Heavens and who hath dominion over all mankind and birds and beasts and over the wind and the Jinn. Moreover, he kenneth the speech of birds and the language of every other created thing; and withal, he calleth all creatures to the worship of his Lord and discourseth to them of their service. So let us send him a messenger in the King’s name and seek of him our need, beseeching him to put up prayer to his Lord, that He vouchsafe each of us boon of issue. If his Faith be soothfast and his Lord Omnipotent, He will assuredly bless each of us with a child male or female, and if the thing thus fall out, we will enter his faith and worship his Lord; else will we take patience and devise us another device.” The King cried, “This is well seen, and my breast is braodened by this thy speech; but where shall we find a messenger befitting this grave matter, for that this Solomon is no Kinglet and the approaching him is no light affair? Indeed, I will send him none, on the like of this matter, save thyself; for thou art ancient and versed in all manner affairs and the like of thee is the like of myself; wherefore I desire that thou weary thyself and journey to him and occupy thyself sedulously with accomplishing this matter, so haply solace may be at thy hand.” The Minister said, “I hear and I obey; but rise thou forthwith and seat thee upon the throne, so the Emirs and Lords of the realm and officers and the lieges may enter applying themselves to thy service, according to their custom; for they all went away from thee, troubled at heart on thine account. Then will I go out and set forth on the Sovran’s errand.” So the King arose forthright and sat down on the throne of his kingship, whilst the Wazir went out and said to the Chamberlain, “Bid the folk proceed to their service, as of their wont.” Accordingly the troops and Captains and Lords of the land entered, after they had spread the tables and ate and drank and withdrew as was their wont, after which the Wazir Faris went forth from King Asim and, repairing to his own house, equipped himself for travel and returned to the King, who opened to him the treasuries and provided him with rarities and things of price and rich stuffs and gear without compare, such as nor Emir nor Wazir hath power to possess. Moreover, King Asim charged him to accost Solomon with reverence, foregoing him with the salam, but not exceeding in speech; “and (continued he) then do thou ask of him thy need, and if he say ’tis granted, return to us in haste, for I shall be awaiting thee.” Accordingly, the Minister kissed hands and took the presents and setting out, fared on night and day, till he came within fifteen days’ journey of Saba. Meanwhile Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) inspired Solomon the son of David (the Peace be upon both!) and said to him, “O Solomon, the King of Egypt sendeth unto thee his Chief Wazir, with a present of rarities and such and such things of price; so do thou also despatch thy Counsellor Asaf bin Barkhiyá to meet him with honour and with victual at the halting-places; and when he cometh to thy presence, say unto him, ‘Verily, thy King hath sent thee in quest of this and that and thy business is thus and thus.’ Then do thou propound to him The Saving Faith.”3 Whereupon Solomon bade his Wazir make ready a company of his retainers and go forth to meet the Minister of Egypt with honour and sumptuous provision at the halting-places. So Asaf made ready all that was needed for their entertainment and setting out, fared on till he fell in with Faris and accosted him with the salam, honouring him and his company with exceeding honour. Moreover, he brought them provaunt and provender at the halting-places and said to them, “Well come and welcome and fair welcome to the coming guests! Rejoice in the certain winning of your wish! Be your souls of good cheer and your eyes cool and clear and your breasts be broadened!” Quoth Faris in himself, “Who acquainted him with this?”; and he said to Asaf,4 “O my lord, and who gave thee to know of us and our need?” “It was Solomon son of David (on whom be the Peace!), told us of this!” “And who told our lord Solomon?” “The Lord of the heaven and the earth told him, the God of all creatures!” “This is none other than a mighty God!” “And do ye not worship him?” “We worship the Sun, and prostrate ourselves thereto.” “O Wazir Faris, the sun is but a star of the stars created by Allah (extolled and exalted be He!), and Allah forbid that it should be a Lord! Because whiles it riseth and whiles it setteth, but our Lord is ever present and never absent and He over all things is Omnipotent!” Then they journeyed on a little while till they came to the land Saba and drew near the throne of Solomon David-son, (upon the twain be peace!), who commanded his hosts of men and Jinn and others5 to form line on their road. So the beasts of the sea and the elephants and leopards and lynxes and all beasts of the land ranged themselves in espalier on either side of the way, after their several kinds, and similarly the Jinn drew out in two ranks, appearing all to mortal eyes without concealment, in divers forms grisly and gruesome. So they lined the road on either hand, and the birds bespread their wings over the host of creatures to shade them, warbling one to other in all manner of voices and tongues. Now when the people of Egypt came to this terrible array, they dreaded it and durst not proceed; but Asaf said to them, “Pass on amidst them and walk forward and fear them not: for they are slaves of Solomon son of David, and none of them will harm you.” So saying, he entered between the ranks, followed by all the folk and amongst them the Wazir of Egypt and his company, fearful: and they ceased not faring forwards till they reached the city, where they lodged the embassy in the guest-house and for the space of three days entertained them sumptuously, entreating them with the utmost honour. Then they carried them before Solomon, prophet of Allah (on whom be the Peace!), and when entering they would have kissed the earth before him; but he forbade them, saying, “It befitteth not a man prostrate himself to earth save before Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!), Creator of Earth and Heaven and all other things; wherefore, whosoever of you hath a mint to sit let him be seated in my service, or to stand, let him stand, but let none stand to do me worship.” So they obeyed him and the Wazir Faris and some of his intimates sat down, whilst certain of the lesser sort remained afoot to wait on him. When they had sat awhile, the servants spread the tables and they all, men and beasts, ate their sufficiency.6 Then Solomon bade Faris expound his errand, that it might be accomplished, saying, “Speak and hide naught of that wherefor thou art come; for I know why ye come and what is your errand, which is thus and thus. The King of Egypt who despatched thee, Asim hight, hath become a very old man, infirm, decrepit; and Allah (whose name be exalted!) hath not blessed him with offspring, male or female. So he abode in cark and care and chagrin from morn to night and from night to morn. It so happened that one day of the days as he sat upon the throne of his kingship with his Emirs and Wazirs, and Captains and Grandees in attendance on him, he saw some of them with two sons, others with one, and others even three, who came with their sires to do him service. So he said in himself, of the excess of his sorrow, ‘Who shall get my kingdom after my death? Will any save a stranger take it? And thus shall I pass out of being as though I had never been!’ On this account he became drowned in the sea of thought, until his eyes were flooded with tears and he covered his face with his kerchief and wept with sore weeping. Then he rose from off his throne and sat down upon the floor wailing and lamenting and none knew what was in heart as he grovelled in the ground save Allah Almighty.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The Biblical Sheba, whence came the Queen of many Hebrew fables.
2 These would be the interjections of the writer or story-teller. The Mac. Edit. is here a sketch which must be filled up by the Bresl. Edit. vol. iv. 189–318: “Tale of King Asim and his son Sayf al-Mulúk with Badí‘a al-Jamál.”
3 The oath by the Seal-ring of Solomon was the Stygian “swear” in Fairy-land. The signet consisted of four jewels, presented by as many angels, representing the Winds, the Birds, Earth (including sea) and Spirits, and the gems were inscribed with as many sentences: (1) To Allah belong Majesty and Might; (2) All created things praise the Lord; (3) Heaven and Earth are Allah’s slaves and (4) There is no god but the God and Mohammed is His messenger. For Sakhr and his theft of the signet see Dr. Weil’s, “The Bible, the Koran, and the Talmud.”
4 Trébutien (ii. 128) remarks, “Cet Assaf peut être celui auquel David adresse plusieurs de ses psaumes, et que nos interprètes disent avoir été son maître de chapelle (from Biblioth. Orient).
5 Mermen, monsters, beasts, etc.
6 This is in accordance with Eastern etiqette; the guest must be fed before his errand is asked. The Porte, in the days of its pride, managed in this way sorely to insult the Ambassadors of the most powerful European kingdoms and the first French Republic had the honour of abating the barbarians’ nuisance. So the old Scottish Highlanders never asked the name or clan of a chance guest, lest he prove a foe before he had eaten their food.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Solomon David-son (upon both of whom be peace!) after disclosing to the Wazir Faris that which had passed between himself and his master, King Asim, said to him, “Is this that I have told thee the truth, O Wazir?” Replied Faris, “O prophet of Allah, this thou hast said is indeed sooth and verity; but when we discoursed of this matter, none was with the King and myself, nor was any ware of our case; who, then told thee of all these things?” Answered Solomon, “They were told to me by my Lord who knoweth whatso is concealed1 from the eye and what is hidden in the breasts.” Quoth Faris, “O Prophet of Allah, verily this is none other than a mighty Lord and an omnipotent God!” And he Islamized with all his many. Then said Solomon to him, “Thou hast with thee such and such presents and rarities;” and Faris replied “Yes.” The prophet continued, “I accept them all and give them in free gift unto thee. So do ye rest, thou and thy company, in the place where you have been lodging, till the fatigue of the journey shall cease from you; and to-morrow, Inshallah! thine errand shall be accomplished to the uttermost, if it be the will of Allah the Most High, Lord of heaven and earth and the light which followeth the gloom; Creator of all creatures.” So Faris returned to his quarters and passed the night in deep thought. But when morning morrowed he presented himself before the Lord Solomon, who said to him, “When thou returnest to King Asim bin Safwan and you twain are re-united, do ye both go forth some day armed with bow, bolts and brand, and fare to such a place, where ye shall find a certain tree. Mount upon it and sit silent until the midhour between noon-prayer and that of mid-afternoon, when the noontide heat hath cooled; then descend and look at the foot of the tree, whence ye will see two serpents come forth, one with a head like an ape’s and the other with a head like an Ifrit’s. Shoot them ye twain with bolts and kill them both; then cut off a span’s length from their heads and the like from their tails and throw it away. The rest of the flesh cook and cook well and give it to your wives to eat: then lie with them that night and, by Allah’s leave, they shall conceive and bear male children.” Moreover, he gave him a seal-ring, a sword, and a wrapper containing two tunics2 embroidered with gold and jewels, saying, “O Wazir Faris, when your sons grow up to man’s estate, give to each of them one of these tunics.” Then said he, “In the name of Allah! May the Almighty accomplish your desire! And now nothing remaineth for thee but to depart, relying on the blessing of the Lord the Most High, for the King looketh for thy return night and day and his eye is ever gazing on the road.” So the Wazir advanced to the prophet Solomon son of David (upon both of whom be the Peace!) and farewelled him and fared forth from him after kissing his hands. Rejoicing in the accomplishment of his errand he travelled on with all diligence night and day, and ceased not wayfaring till he drew near to Cairo, when he despatched one of his servants to acquaint King Asim with his approach and the successful issue of his journey; which when the King heard he joyed with exceeding joy, he and his Grandees and Officers and troops especially in the Wazir’s safe return. When they met, the Minister dismounted and, kissing ground before the King, gave him the glad news anent the winning of his wish in fullest fashion; after which he expounded the True Faith to him, and the King and all his people embraced Al–Islam with much joy and gladness. Then said Asim to his Wazir, “Go home and rest this night and a week to boot; then go to the Hammambath and come to me, that I may inform thee of what we shall have to consider.” So Faris kissed ground and withdrew, with his suite, pages and eunuchs, to his house, where he rested eight days; after which he repaired to the King and related to him all that had passed between Solomon and himself, adding, “Do thou rise and go forth with me alone.” Then the King and the Minister took two bows and two bolts and repairing to the tree indicated by Solomon, clomb up into it and there sat in silence till the mid-day heat had passed away and it was near upon the hour of mid-afternoon prayer, when they descended and looking about them saw a serpent-couple3 issue from the roots of the tree. The King gazed at them, marvelling to see them ringed with collars of gold about their necks, and said to Faris, “O Wazir, verily these snakes have golden torques! By Allah, this is forsooth a rare thing! Let us catch them and set them in a cage and keep them to look upon.” But the Minister said, “These hath Allah created for profitable use;4 so do thou shoot one and I will shoot the other with these our shafts.” Accordingly they shot at them with arrows and slew them; after which they cut off a span’s length of their heads and tails and threw it away. Then they carried the rest to the King’s palace, where they called the kitchener and giving him the flesh said, “Dress this meat daintily, with onion-sauce5 and spices, and ladle it out into two saucers and bring them hither at such an hour, without delay!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In Bresl. Edit. (301) Kháfiyah: in Mac. Kháinah, the perfidy.
2 So in the Mac. Edit., in the Bresl. only one “Kabá” or Kaftan; but from the sequel it seems to be a clerical error.
3 Arab. “Su’ubán” (Thu’ubán) popularly translated “basilisk.” The Egyptians suppose that when this serpent forms ring round the Ibn ‘Irs (weasel or ichneumon) the latter emits a peculiar air which causes the reptile to burst.
4 i.e. that prophesied by Solomon.
5 Arab. “Takliyah” from kaly, a fry: Lane’s Shaykh explained it as “onions cooked in clarified butter, after which they are put upon other cooked food.” The mention of onions points to Egypt as the origin of this tale and certainly not to Arabia, where the strong-smelling root is hated.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King and the Wazir gave the serpents’ flesh to the kitchener, saying, “Cook it and ladle it out into two saucers and bring them hither without delay!”; the cook took the meat and went with it to the kitchen, where he cooked it and dressed it in skilful fashion with a mighty fine onion-sauce and hot spices; after which he ladled it out into two saucers and set them before the King and the Wazir, who took each a dish and gave their wives to eat of the meat. Then they went in that night unto them and knew them carnally, and by the good pleasure of Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and His all-might and furtherance, they both conceived on one and the same night. The King abode three months, troubled in mind and saying in himself, “I wonder whether this thing will prove true or untrue”; till one day, as the lady his Queen was sitting, the child stirred in her womb and she felt a pain and her colour changed. So she knew that she was with child and calling the chief of her eunuchs, gave him this command, “Go to the King, wherever he may be and congratulate him saying, ‘O King of the Age, I bring thee the glad tidings that our lady’s pregnancy is become manifest, for the child stirreth in her womb’.” So the eunuch went out in haste, rejoicing, and finding the King alone, with cheek on palm, pondering this thing, kissed ground between his hands and acquainted him with his wife’s pregnancy. When the King heard his words, he sprang to his feet and in the excess of his joy, he kissed1 the eunuch’s hands and head and doffing the clothes he had on, gave them to him. Moreover, he said to those who were present in his assembly, “Whoso loveth me, let him bestow largesse upon this man.”2 And they gave him of coin and jewels and jacinths and horses and mules and estates and gardens what was beyond count or calculation. At that moment in came the Wazir Faris and said to Asim, “O my master, but now I was sitting alone at home and absorbed in thought, pondering the matter of the pregnancy and saying to myself, ‘Would I wot an this thing be true and whether my wife Khátún3 have conceived or not!’ when, behold, an eunuch came in to me and brought me the glad tidings that his lady was indeed pregnant, for that her colour was changed and the child stirred in her womb; whereupon, in my joy, I doffed all the clothes I had on and gave them to him, together with a thousand dinars, and made him Chief of the Eunuchs.” Rejoined the King, “O Minister, Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath, of His grace and bounty and goodness, and beneficence, made gift to us of the True Faith and brought us out of night into light, and hath been bountiful to us, of His favour and benevolence; wherefore I am minded to solace the folk and cause them to rejoice.” Quoth Faris, “Do what thou wilt,4” and quoth the King, “O Wazir, go down without stay or delay and set free all who are in the prisons, both criminals and debtors, and whoso transgresseth after this, we will requite as he deserveth even to the striking off of his head. Moreover, we forgive the people three years’ taxes, and do thou set up kitchens all around about the city walls5 and bid the kitcheners hang over the fire all kinds of cooking pots and cook all manner of meats, continuing their cooking night and day, and let all comers, both of our citizens and of the neighbouring countries, far and near, eat and drink and carry to their houses. And do thou command the people to make holiday and decorate the city seven days and shut not the taverns night nor day6; and if thou delay I will behead thee7!” So he did as the King bade him and the folk decorated the city and citadel and bulwarks after the goodliest fashion and, donning their richest attire, passed their time in feasting and sporting and making merry, till the days of the Queen’s pregnancy were accomplished and she was taken, one night, with labour pains hard before dawn. Then the King bade summon all the Olema and astronomers, mathematicians and men of learning, astrologers, scientists and scribes in the city, and they assembled and sat awaiting the throwing of a bead into the cup8 which was to be the signal to the Astrophils, as well as to the nurses and attendants, that the child was born. Presently, as they sat in expectation, the Queen gave birth to a boy like a slice of the moon when fullest and the astrologers fell to calculating and noted his star and nativity and drew his horoscope. Then, on being summoned they rose and, kissing the earth before the King, gave him the glad tidings, saying, “In very sooth the new-born child is of happy augury and born under an auspicious aspect, but” they added, “in the first of his life there will befall him a thing which we fear to name before the King.” Quoth Asim, “Speak and fear not;” so quoth they, “O King, this boy will fare forth from this land and journey in strangerhood and suffer shipwreck and hardship and prisonment and distress, and indeed he hath before him the sorest of sufferings; but he shall free him of them in the end, and win to his wish and live the happiest of lives the rest of his days, ruling over subjects with a strong hand and having dominion in the land, despite enemies and enviers.” Now when the King heard the astrologers’ words, he said, “The matter is a mystery; but all that Allah Almighty hath written for the creature of good and bad cometh to pass and needs must betide him from this day to that a thousand solaces.” So he paid no heed to their words or attention to their speeches but bestowed on them robes of honour, as well upon all who were present, and dismissed them; when, behold, in came Faris the Wazir and kissed the earth before the King in huge joy, saying, “Good tidings, O King! My wife hath but now given birth to a son, as he were a slice of the moon.” Replied Asim, “O Wazir, go, bring thy wife and child hither, that she may abide with my wife in my palace, and they shall bring up the two boys together.” So Faris fetched his wife and son and they committed the two children to the nurses wet and dry. And after seven days had passed over them, they brought them before the King and said to him, “What wilt thou name the twain?” Quoth he, “Do ye name them;” but quoth they, “None nameth the son save his sire.” So he said, “Name my son Sayf al-Muluk, after my grandfather, and the Minister’s son Sa’id9 Then he bestowed robes of honour on the nurses wet and dry and said to them, “Be ye ruthful over them and rear them after the goodliest fashion.” So they brought up the two boys diligently till they reached the age of five, when the King committed them to a doctor of Sciences10 who taught them to read the Koran and write. When they were ten years old, King Asim gave them in charge to masters, who instructed them in cavalarice and shooting with shafts and lunging with lance and play of Polo and the like till, by the time they were fifteen years old, they were clever in all manner of martial exercises, nor was there one to view with them in horsemanship, for each of them would do battle with a thousand men and make head against them single handed. So when they came to years of discretion, whenever King Asim looked on them he joyed in them with exceeding joy; and when they attained their twenty-fifth year, he took Faris his Minister apart one day and said to him, “O Wazir, I am minded to consult with thee concerning a thing I desire to do.” Replied he, “Whatever thou hast a mind to do, do it; for thy judgment is blessed.” Quoth the King, “O Wazir, I am become a very old and decrepit man, sore stricken in years, and I desire to take up my abode in an oratory, that I may worship Allah Almighty and give my kingdom and Sultanate to my son Sayf al-Muluk for that he is grown a goodly youth, perfect in knightly exercises and intellectual attainments, polite letters and gravity, dignity and the art of government. What sayst thou, O Minister, of this project?” And quoth the counsellor, “Right indeed is thy rede: the idea is a blessed and a fortunate, and if thou do this, I will do the like and my son Sa’id shall be the Prince’s Wazir, for he is a comely young man and complete in knowledge and judgment. Thus will the two youths be together, and we will order their affair and neglect not their case, but guide them to goodness and in the way that is straight.” Quoth the King, “Write letters and send them by couriers to all the countries and cities and sconces and fortresses that be under our hands, bidding their chiefs be present on such a day at the Horse-course of the Elephant.”11 So the Wazir went out without stay or delay and despatched letters of this purport to all the deputies and governors of fortresses and others under King Asim; and he commanded also that all in the city should be present, far and near, high and low. When the appointed time drew nigh, King Asim bade the tent-pitchers plant pavilions in the midst of the Champ-de-Mars and decorate them after the most sumptuous fashion and set up the great throne whereon he sat not but on festivals. And they at once did his bidding. Then he and all his Nabobs and Chamberlains and Emirs sallied forth, and he commanded proclamation be made to the people, saying, “In the name of Allah, come forth to the Maydán!” So all the Emirs and Wazirs and Governors of provinces and Feudatories12 came forth to the place of assembly and, entering the royal pavilion, addressed themselves to the service of the King as was their wont, and abode in their several stations, some sitting and others standing, till all the people were gathered together, when the King bade spread the tables and they ate and drank and prayed for him. Then he commanded the Chamberlains13 to proclaim to the people that they should not depart: so they made proclamation to them, saying, “Let none of you fare hence till he have heard the King’s words!” So they withdrew the curtains of the royal pavilion and the King said, “Whoso loveth me, let him remain till he have heard my speech!” Whereupon all the folk sat down in mind tranquil after they had been fearful, saying, “Wherefore have we been summoned by the King?” Then the Sovran rose to his feet, and making them swear that none would stir from his stead, said to them, “O ye Emirs and Wazirs and Lords of the land; the great and the small of you, and all ye who are present of the people; say me, wot ye not that this kingdom was an inheritance to me from my fathers and forefathers?” Answered they, “Yes, O King we all know that.” And he continued, “I and you, we all worshipped the sun and moon, till Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) vouchsafed us the knowledge of the True Faith and brought us out of darkness unto light, and directed us to the religion of Al–Islam. Know that I am become a very old man, feeble and decrepit, and I desire to take up my abode in a hermitage14 there to worship Allah Almighty and crave His pardon for past offenses and make this my son Sayf al-Muluk ruler. Ye know full well that he is a comely youth, eloquent, liberal, learned, versed in affairs, intelligent, equitable; wherefore I am minded presently to resign to him my realm and to make him ruler over you and seat him as Sultan in my stead, whilst I give myself to solitude and to the worship of Allah in an oratory, and my son and heir shall judge between you. What say ye then, all of you?” Thereupon they all rose and kissing ground before him, made answer with “Hearing and obedience,” saying, “O our King and our defender an thou should set over us one of thy blackamoor slaves we would obey him and hearken to thy word and accept thy command: how much more then with thy son Sayf al-Muluk? Indeed, we accept of him and approve him on our eyes and heads!” So King Asim bin Safwan arose and came down from his seat and seating his son on the great throne,15 took the crown from his own head and set it on the head of Sayf al-Muluk and girt his middle with the royal girdle.16 Then he sat down beside his son on the throne of his kingship, whilst the Emirs and Wazirs and Lords of the land and all the rest of the folk rose and kissed ground before him, saying, “Indeed, he is worthy of the kingship and hath better right to it than any other.” Then the Chamberlains made proclamation crying, “Amán! Amán! Safety! Safety!” and offered up prayers for his victory and prosperity. And Sayf al-Muluk scattered gold and silver on the heads of the lieges one and all. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Von Hammer quotes the case of the Grand Vizier Yúsuf throwing his own pelisse over the shoulders of the Aleppine Merchant who brought him the news of the death of his enemy, Jazzár Pasha.
2 This peculiar style of generosity was also the custom in contemporary Europe.
3 Khátún, which follows the name (e.g. Hurmat Khatun), in India corresponds with the male title Khan, taken by the Pathan Moslems (e.g. Pír Khán). Khánum is the affix to the Moghul or Tartar nobility, the men assuming a double designation e.g. Mirza Abdallah Beg. See Oriental collections (Ouseley’s) vol. i. 97.
4 Lit. “Whatso thou wouldest do that do!” a contrast with our European laconism.
5 These are booths built against and outside the walls, made of palm-fronds and light materials.
6 Von Hammer in Trébutien (ii. 135) says, “Such rejoicings are still customary at Constantinople, under the name of Donánmá, not only when the Sultanas are enceintes, but also when they are brought to bed. In 1803 the rumour of the pregnancy of a Sultana, being falsely spread, involved all the Ministers in useless expenses to prepare for a Donánmá which never took place.” Lane justly remarks upon this passage that the title Sultán precedes while the feminine Sultánah follows the name.
7 These words (Bresl. Edit.) would be spoken in jest, a grim joke enough, but showing the elation of the King’s spirits.
8 A signal like a gong: the Mac. Edit. reads “Tákah,” = in at the window.
9 Sayf al-Mulúk = “Sword (Egyptian Sif, Arab. Sayf, Gr.
) of the Kings”; and he must not be called tout bonnement
Sayf. Sái’d = the forearm.
10 Arab. “Fakíh” = a divine, from Fikh = theology, a man versed in law and divinity i.e. (1) the Koran and its interpretation comprehending the sacred ancient history of the creation and prophets (Chapters iii., iv., v. and vi.), (2) the traditions and legends connected with early Moslem History and (3) some auxiliary sciences as grammar, syntax and prosody; logic, rhetoric and philosophy. See p. 18 of “El–Mas’údí‘s Historical Encyclopædia etc.,” By my friend Prof. Aloys Springer, London 1841. This fine fragment printed by the Oriental Translation Fund has been left unfinished whilst the Asiatic Society of Paris has printed in Eight Vols. 8vo the text and translation of MM. Barbier de Meynard and Pavet de Courteille. What a national disgrace! And the same with the mere abridgment of Ibn Batutah by Prof. Lee (Orient. Tr. Fund 1820) when the French have the fine Edition and translation by Defrémery and Sanguinetti with index etc. in 4 vols. 8vo 1858–59. But England is now content to rank in such matters as encouragement of learning, endowment of research etc., with the basest of kingdoms, and the contrast of status between the learned Societies of London and of Paris, Berlin, Vienna or Rome is mortifying to an Englishman — a national opprobrium.
11 Arab. “Maydán al-Fíl,” prob. for Birkat al-Fíl, the Tank of the Elephant before-mentioned. Lane quotes Al Makrizi who in his Khitat informs us that the lakelet was made abot the end of the seventh century (A.H.), and in the seventeenth year of the eighth century became the site of the stables. The Bresl. Edit. (iv. 214) reads “Maydan al-‘Adl,” prob. for Al-’Ádil the name of the King who laid out the Maydán.
12 Arab. “Asháb al-Ziyá’,” the latter word mostly signifies estates consisting, strictly speaking of land under artificial irrigation.
13 The Bresl. Edit. (iv. 215) has “Chawáshiyah” = ‘Chiaush, the Turkish word, written with the Pers. “ch,” a letter which in Arabic is supplanted by “sh,” everywhere except in Morocco.
14 Arab. “Záwiyah” lit. a corner, a cell. Lane (M. F., chapt. xxiv.) renders it “a small kiosque,” and translates the famous Zawiyat al-Umyán (Blind Men’s Angle) near the south-eastern corner of the Azhar or great Collegiate Mosque of Cairo, “Chapel of the Blind” (chapt. ix.). In popular parlance it suggests a hermitage.
15 Arab. “Takht,” a Pers. word used as more emphatic than the Arab. Sarír.
16 This girding the sovereign is found in the hieroglyphs as a peculiarity of the ancient Kings of Egypt, says Von Hammer referring readers to Denon.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Asim seated his son, Sayf al-Muluk, upon the throne and all the people prayed for his victory and prosperity, the youth scattered gold and silver on the heads of the lieges, one and all, and conferred robes of honour and gave gifts and largesse. Then, after a moment, the Wazir Faris arose and kissing ground said, “O Emirs, O Grandees, ye ken that I am Wazir and that my Wazirate dateth from old, before the accession of King Asim bin Safwan, who hath now divested himself of the Kingship and made his son King in his stead?” Answered they, “Yes, we know that thy Wazirate is from sire after grandsire.” He continued, “And now in my turn I divest myself of office and invest this my son Sa’id, for he is intelligent, quick-witted, sagacious. What say ye all?” And they replied, “None is worthy to be Wazir to King Sayf al-Muluk but thy son, Sa’id, and they befit each other.” With this Faris arose and taking off his Wazirial turband, set it on his son’s head and eke laid his ink-case of office before him, whilst the Chamberlains and the Emirs said, “Indeed, he is deserving of the Wazirship” and the Heralds cried aloud, “Mubárak! Mubarak! — Felix sit et faustus!” After this, King Asim and Faris the Minister arose and, opening the royal treasuries, conferred magnificent robes of honour on all the Viceroys and Emirs and Wazirs and Lords of the land and other folk and gave salaries and benefactions and wrote them new mandates and diplomas with the signatures of King Sayf al-Muluk and his Wazir Sa’id. Moreover, he made distribution of money to the men-at-arms and gave guerdons, and the provincials abode in the city a full week ere they departed each to his own country and place. Then King Asim carried his son and his Wazir Sa’id back to the palace which was in the city and bade the treasurer bring the seal-ring and signet,1 sword and wrapper; which being done, he said to the two young men, “O my sons, come hither and let each of you choose two of these things and take them.” The first to make choice was Sayf al-Muluk, who put out his hand and took the ring and the wrapper, whilst Sa’id took the sword and the signet; after which they both kissed the King’s hands and went away to their lodging. Now Sayf al-Muluk opened not the wrapper to see what was therein, but threw it on the couch where he and Sa’id slept by night, for it was their habit to lie together. Presently they spread them the bed and the two lay down with a pair of wax candles burning over them and slept till midnight, when Sayf al-Muluk awoke and, seeing the bundle at his head, said in his mind, “I wonder what thing of price is in this wrapper my father gave me!” So he took it together with a candle and descended from the couch leaving Sa’id sleeping and carried the bundle into a closet, where he opened it and found within a tunic of the fabric of the Jann. He spread it out and saw on the lining2 of the back, the portraiture wroughten in gold of a girl and marvellous was her loveliness; and no sooner had he set eyes on the figure than his reason fled his head and he became Jinn-mad for love thereof, so that he fell down in a swoon and presently recovering, began to weep and lament, beating his face and breast and kissing her. And he recited these verses,
“Love, at the first, is a spurt of spray3
Which Doom disposes and Fates display;
Till, when deep diveth youth in passion-sea
Unbearable sorrows his soul waylay.”
And also these two couplets,
“Had I known of Love in what fashion he
Robbeth heart and soul I had guarded me:
But of malice prepense I threw self away
Unwitting of Love what his nature be.”
And Sayf al-Muluk ceased not to weep and wail and beat face and breast, till Sa’id awoke and missing him from the bed and seeing but a single candle, said to himself, “Whither is Sayf al-Muluk gone?” Then he took the other candle and went round about the palace, till he came upon the closet where he saw the Prince lying at full length, weeping with sore weeping and lamenting aloud. So he said to him, “O my brother, for what cause are these tears and what hath befallen thee? Speak to me and tell me the reason thereof.” But Sayf al-Muluk spoke not neither raised his head and continued to weep and wail and beat hand on breast. Seeing him in this case quoth Sa’id, “I am thy Wazir and thy brother, and we were reared together, I and thou; so an thou do not unburden thy breast and discover thy secret to me, to whom shalt thou reveal it and disclose its cause?” And he went on to humble himself and kiss the ground before him a full hour, whilst Sayf al-Muluk paid no heed to him nor answered him a word, but gave not over to weeping. At last, being affrighted at his case and weary of striving with him, he went out and fetched a sword, with which he returned to the closet, and setting the point to his own breast, said to the Prince, “Rouse thee, O my brother! An thou tell me not what aileth thee, I will slay myself and see thee no longer in this case.” Whereupon Sayf al-Muluk raised his head towards the Wazir and answered him, “O my brother, I am ashamed to tell thee what hath betided me;” but Sa’id said, “I conjure thee by Allah, Lord of Lords, Liberator of Necks,4 Causer of causes, the One, the Ruthful, the Gift-full, the Bountiful, that thou tell me what aileth thee and be not abashed at me, for I am thy slave and thy Minister and counsellor in all thine affairs!” Quoth Sayf al-Muluk, “Come and look at this likeness.” So Sa’id looked at it awhile and considering it straitly, behold, he saw written, as a crown over its head, in letters of pearl, these words, “This is the counterfeit presentment of Badi’a al-Jamal, daughter of Shahyál bin Shárukh, a King of the Kings of the true-believing Jann who have taken up their abode in the city of Babel and sojourn in the garden of Iram, Son of ‘Ad the Greater.’”5 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Mohr,” which was not amongst the gifts of Solomon in Night dcclx. The Bresl. Edit. (p. 220) adds “and the bow,” which is also de trop.
2 Arab. “Batánah,” the ordinary lining opp. to Tazríb, or quilting with a layer of coton between two folds of cloth. The idea in the text is that the unhappy wearer would have to carry his cross (the girl) on his back.
3 This line has occurred in Night dccxliv. supra p. 280.
4 Arab. “Mu’attik al-Rikáb” i.e. who frees those in bondage from the yoke.
5 In the Mac. Edit. and in Trébutien (ii. 143) the King is here called Schimakh son of Scharoukh, but elsewhere, Schohiali = Shahyál, in the Bresl. Edit. Shahál. What the author means by “Son of ‘Ad the Greater,” I cannot divine.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sa’id, son of the Wazir Faris, had read to Sayf al-Muluk, son of King Asim, the writ on the tunic, which showed the portraiture of Badi’a al-Jamal, daughter of Shahyal bin Sharukh, a King of the Kings of the Moslem Jinns dwelling in Babel-city and in the Garden of Iram, son of ‘Ad the Greater, he cried, “O my brother, knowest thou of what woman this is the presentment, that we may seek for her?” Sayf al-Muluk replied, “No, by Allah, O my brother, I know her not!” and Sa’id rejoined, “Come, read this writing on the crown.” So Sayf al-Muluk read it and cried out from his heart’s core and very vitals, saying, “Alas! Alas! Alas!” Quoth Sa’id, “O my brother, an the original of the portrait exist and her name be Badi’a al-Jamal, and she abide in the world, I will hasten to seek her, that thou mayst win thy will without delay. But, Allah upon thee, O my brother, leave this weeping and ascend thy throne, that the Officers of the State may come in to do their service to thee, and in the undurn, do thou summon the merchants and fakirs and travellers and pilgrims and paupers and ask of them concerning this city and the garden of Iram; haply by the help and blessing of Allah (extolled and exalted be He!), some one of them shall direct us thither.” So, when it was day, Sayf al-Muluk went forth and mounted the throne, clasping the tunic in his arms, for he could neither stand nor sit without it, nor would sleep visit him save it were with him; and the Emirs and Wazirs and Lords and Officers came in to him. When the Divan was complete all being assembled in their places he said to his Minister, “Go forth to them and tell them that the King hath been suddenly struck by sickness and he, by Allah, hath passed the night in ill case.” So Sa’id fared forth and told the folk what he said; which when old King Asim heard, he was concerned for his son and, summoning the physicians and astrologers, carried them in to Sayf al-Muluk. They looked at him and prescribed him ptisanes and diet-drinks, simples and medicinal waters and wrote him characts and incensed him with Nadd and aloes-wood and ambergris three days’ space; but his malady persisted three months, till King Asim was wroth with the leaches and said to them, “Woe to you, O dogs! What? Are all of you impotent to cure my son? Except ye heal him forthright, I will put the whole of you to death.” The Archiater replied, “O King of the Age, in very sooth we know that this is thy son and thou wottest that we fail not of diligence in tending a stranger; so how much more with medicining thy son? But thy son is afflicted with a malady hard to heal, which, if thou desire to know, we will discover it to thee.” Quoth Asim, “What then find ye to be the malady of my son?”; and quoth the leach, “O King of the Age, thy son is in love and he loveth one to whose enjoyment he hath no way of access.” At this the King was wroth and asked, “How know ye that my son is in love and how came love to him?”; they answered, “Enquire of his Wazir and brother Sa’id for he knoweth his case.” The King rose and repaired to his private closet and summoning Sa’id said to him, “Tell me the truth of thy brother’s malady.” But Sa’id replied, “I know it not.” So King Asim said to the Sworder, “Take Sa’id and bind his eyes and strike his neck.” Whereupon Sa’id feared for himself and cried, “O King of the Age, grant me immunity.” Replied the King, “Speak and thou shalt have it.” “Thy son is in love.” “With whom is he in love?” “With a King’s daughter of the Jann.” “And where could he have espied a daughter of the Jinns?” “Her portrait is wroughten on the tunic that was in the bundle given thee by Solomon, prophet of Allah!” When the King heard this, he rose, and going in to Sayf al-Muluk, said to him, “O my son, what hath afflicted thee? What is this portrait whereof thou art enamoured? And why didst thou not tell me.” He replied, “O my sire, I was ashamed to name this to thee and could not bring myself to discover aught thereof to any one at all; but now thou knowest my case, look how thou mayest do to cure me.” Rejoined his father, “What is to be done? Were this one of the daughters of men we might devise a device for coming at her; but she is a King’s daughter of the Jinns and who can woo and win her, save it be Solomon David-son, and hardly he?1 However, O my son, do thou arise forthright and hearten thy heart and take horse and ride out a-hunting or to weapon-play in the Maydan. Divert thyself with eating and drinking and put away cark and care from thy heart, and I will bring thee an hundred maids of the daughters of Kings; for thou hast no need to the daughters of the Jann, over whom we lack controul and of kind other than ours.” But he said, “I cannot renounce her nor will I seek other than her.” Asked King Asim, “How then shall we do, O my son?”; and Sayf al-Muluk answered, “Bring us all the merchants and travellers and wanderers in the city, that we may question them thereof. Peradventure, Allah will lead us to the city of Babel and the garden of Iram.” So King Asim bade summon all the merchants in the city and strangers and seacaptains and, as each came, enquired of him anent the city of Babel and its peninsula2 and the garden of Iram; but none of them knew these places nor could any give him tidings thereof. However, when the séance broke up, one of them said, “O King of the Age, an thou be minded to ken this thing, up and hie thee to the land of China; for it hath a vast city3 and a safe, wherein are store of rarities and things of price and folk of all kinds; and thou shalt not come to the knowledge of this city and garden but from its folk; it may be one of them will direct thee to that thou seekest.” Whereupon quoth Sayf al-Muluk, “O my sire, equip me a ship, that I may fare to the China-land; and do thou rule the reign in my stead.” Replied the old King, “O my son, abide thou on the throne of thy kingship and govern thy commons, and I myself will make the voyage to China and ask for thee of the city of Babel and the garden of Iram.” But Sayf al-Muluk rejoined, “O my sire, in very sooth this affair concerneth me and none can search after it like myself: so, come what will, an thou give me leave to make the voyage, I will depart and wander awhile. If I find trace or tidings of her, my wish will be won, and if not, belike the voyage will broaden my breast and recruit my courage; and haply by foreign travel my case will be made easy to me, and if I live, I shall return to thee safe and sound.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sayf al-Muluk said to his sire King Asim, “Equip me a ship that I may fare therein to the China-land and search for the object of my desire. If I live I shall return to thee safe and sound.” The old King looked at his son and saw nothing for it but to do what he desired; so he gave him the leave he wanted and fitted him forty ships, manned with twenty thousand armed Mamelukes, besides servants, and presented him with great plenty of money and necessaries and warlike gear, as much as he required. When the ships were laden with water and victual, weapons and troops, Sayf al-Muluk’s father and mother farewelled him and King Asim said, “Depart, O my son, and travel in weal and health and safety. I commend thee to Him with Whom deposits are not lost.”1 So the Prince bade adieu to his parents and embarked, with his brother Sa’id and they weighed anchor and sailed till they came to the City of China. When the Chinamen heard of the coming of forty ships, full of armed men and stores, weapons and hoards, they made sure that these were enemies come to battle with them and seige them; so they bolted the gates of the town and made ready the mangonels.2 But Sayf al-Muluk, hearing of this, sent two of his Chief Mamelukes to the King of China, bidding them say to him, “This is Sayf al-Muluk, son of King Asim of Egypt, who is come to thy city as a guest, to divert himself by viewing thy country awhile, and not for conquest or contention; wherefore, an thou wilt receive him, he will come ashore to thee; and if not he will return and will not disquiet thee nor the people of thy capital.” They presented themselves at the city gates and said, “We are messengers from King Sayf al-Muluk.” Whereupon the townsfolk opened the gates and carried them to their King, whose name was Faghfúr3 Shah and between whom and King Asim there had erst been acquaintance. So, when he heard that the new-comer Prince was the son of King Asim, he bestowed robes of honour on the messengers and, bidding open the gates, made ready guest-gifts and went forth in person with the chief officers of his realm, to meet Sayf al-Muluk, and the two Kings embraced. Then Faghfur said to his guest, “Well come and welcome and fair cheer to him who cometh to us! I am thy slave and the slave of thy sire: my city is between thy hands to command and whatso thou seekest shall be brought before thee.” Then he presented him with the guest-gifts and victual for the folk at their stations; and they took horse, with the Wazir Sa’id and the chiefs of their officers and the rest of their troops, and rode from the sea-shore to the city, which they entered with cymbals clashing and drums beating in token of rejoicing. There they abode in the enjoyment of fair entertainment for forty days, at the end of which quoth the King of China to Sayf al-Muluk, “O son of my brother, how is thy case4? Doth my country please thee?”; and quoth Sayf al-Muluk, “May Allah Almighty long honour it with thee, O King!” Said Faghfur, “Naught hath brought thee hither save some need which hath occurred to thee; and whatso thou desirest of my country I will accomplish it to the.” Replied Sayf al-Muluk, “O King, my case is a wondrous, “and told him how he had fallen in love with the portrait of Badi’a al-Jamal, and wept bitter tears. When the King of China heard his story, he wept for pity and solicitude for him and cried, “And what wouldst thou have now, O Sayf al-Muluk?”; and he rejoined, “I would have thee bring me all the wanderers and travellers, the seafarers and sea-captains, that I may question them of the original of this portrait; perhaps one of them may give me tidings of her.” So Faghfur Shah sent out his Nabobs and Chamberlains and body-guards to fetch all the wanderers and travellers in the land, and they brought them before the two Kings, and they were a numerous company. Then Sayf al-Muluk questioned them of the City of Babel and the Garden of Iram, but none of them returned him a reply, whereupon he was bewildered and wist not what to do; but one of the sea-captains said to him, “O auspicious King, an thou wouldst know of this city and that garden, up and hie thee to the Islands of the Indian realm.”5 Thereupon Sayf al-Muluk bade bring the ships; which being done, they freighted them with vivers and water and all that they needed, and the Prince and his Wazir re-embarked, with all their men, after they had farewelled King Faghfur Shah. They sailed the seas four months with a fair wind, in safety and satisfaction till it chanced tha tone day of the days there came out upon them a wind and the billows buffeted them from all quarters. The rain and hail6 descended on them and during twenty days the sea was troubled for the violence of the wind; wherefor the ships drave one against other and brake up, as did the carracks7 and all on board were drowned, except Sayf al-Muluk and some of his servants, who saved themselves in a little cock-boat. Then the wind fell by the decree of Allah Almighty and the sun shone out; whereupon Sayf al-Muluk opened his eyes and seeing no sign of the ships nor aught, but sky and sea, said to the Mamelukes who were with him, “Where are the carracks and cock-boats and where is my brother Sa’id?” They replied, “O King of the Age, there remain nor ships nor boats nor those who were therein; for they are all drowned and become food for fishes.” Now when he heard this, he cried aloud and repeated the saying which whoso saith shall not be confounded, and it is, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Then he fell to buffeting his face and would have cast himself into the sea, but his Mamelukes withheld him, saying “O King, what will this profit thee? Thou hast brought all this on thyself; for, hadst thou hearkened to thy father’s words, naught thereof had betided thee. But this was written from all eternity by the will of the Creator of Souls.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. “Who disappointeth not those who put their trust in Him.”
2 Arab. “Al–Manjaníkát” plur. of manjanik, from Gr., Lat. Manganum (Engl. Mangonel from the dim. Mangonella). Ducange Glossarium, s.v. The Greek is applied originally to defensive weapons, then to the artillery of the day, Ballista, catapults, etc. The kindred Arab. form “Manjanín” is applied chiefly to the Noria or Persian waterwheel.
3 Faghfúr is the common Moslem title for the Emperors of China; in the Kamus the first syllable is Zammated (Fugh); in Al–Mas’udi (chapt. xiv.) we find Baghfúr and in Al–Idrisi Baghbúgh, or Baghbún. In Al–Asma’i Bagh = god or idol (Pehlewi and Persian); hence according to some Baghdád (?) and Bághistán a pagoda (?). Sprenger (Al–Mas’údi, p. 327) remarks that Baghfúr is a literal translation of Tien-tse and quotes Visdelou, “pour mieux faire comprendre de quel ciel ils veulent parler, ils poussent la généalogie (of the Emperor) plus loin. Ils lui donnent le ciel pour père, la terre pour mère, le soleil pour frère aîné et la lune pour sœur aînée.”
4 Arab. “Kayf hálak” = how de doo? the salutation of a Fellah.
5 i.e. subject to the Maharajah of Hind.
6 This is not a mistake: I have seen heavy hail in Africa, N. Lat. 4 degrees; within sight of the Equator.
7 Arab. “Harrákta.” here used in the sense of smaller craft, and presently for a cock-boat.
She resume, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sayf al-Muluk would have cast himself into the main, his Mamelukes withheld him saying, “What will this profit thee? Thou hast done this deed by thyself, yet was it written from all eternity by the will of the Creator of Souls, that the creature might accomplish that which Allah hath decreed unto him. And indeed, at the time of thy birth, the astrologers assured thy sire that all manner troubles should befal thee. So there is naught for it but patience till Allah deliver us from this our strait.” Replied the Prince, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Neither is there refuge nor fleeing from that which He decreeth!” And he sighed and recited these couplets,
“By the Compassionate, I’m dazed about my case for lo!
Troubles and griefs beset me sore; I know not whence they grow.
I will be patient, so the folk, that I against a thing
Bitt’rer than very aloes’ self,1 endurèd have, may know.
Less bitter than my patience is the taste of aloes-juice;
I’ve borne with patience what’s more hot than coals with fire aglow.
In this my trouble what resource have I, save to commit
My case to Him who orders all that is, for weal or woe?”
Then he became drowned in the depth of thoughts and his tears ran down upon his cheeks like torrent-rain; and he slept a while of the day, after which he awoke and sought of food somewhat. So they set meat before him and he ate his sufficiency, till they removed the food from before him, whilst the boat drove on with them they knew not whither it was wandering. It drifted with them at the will of the winds and the waves, night and day a great while, till their victual was spent and they saw themselves shent and were reduced to extreme hunger and thirst and exhaustion, when behold, suddenly they sighted an island from afar and the breezes wafted them on, till they came thither. Then, making the cock-boat fast to the coast and leaving one therein to guard it, they fared on into the island, where they found abundance of fruits of all colours and ate of them till they were satisfied. Presently, they saw a person sitting among those trees and he was long-faced, of strange favour and white of beard and body. He called to one of the Mamelukes by his name, saying, “Eat not of these fruits, for they are unripe; but come hither to me, that I may give thee to eat of the best and the ripest.” The slave looked at him and thought that he was one of the shipwrecked, who had made his way to that island; so he joyed with exceeding joy at sight of him and went close up to him, knowing not what was decreed to him in the Secret Purpose nor what was writ upon his brow. But, when he drew near, the stranger in human shape leapt upon him, for he was a Marid,2 and riding upon his shoulderblades and twisting one of his legs about his neck, let the other hang down upon his back, saying, “Walk on, fellow; for there is no escape for thee from me and thou art become mine ass.” Thereupon the Mameluke fell a-weeping and cried out to his comrades, “Alas, my lord! Flee ye forth of this wood and save yourselves, for one of the dwellers therein hath mounted on my shoulders, and the rest seek you, desiring to ride you like me.“When they heard these words, all fled down to the boat and pushed off to sea; whilst the islanders followed them into the water, saying, “Whither wend ye? Come, tarry with us and we will mount on your backs and give you meat and drink, and you shall be our donkeys.” Hearing this they hastened the more seawards till they left them in the distance and fared on, trusting in Allah Almighty; nor did they leave faring for a month, till another island rose before them and thereon they landed. Here they found fruits of various kinds and busied themselves with eating of them, when behold, they saw from afar, somewhat lying in the road, a hideous creature as it were a column of silver. So they went up to it and one of the men gave it a kick, when lo! it was a thing of human semblance, long of eyes and cloven of head and hidden under one of his ears, for he was wont, whenas he lay down to sleep, to spread on ear under his head, and cover his face with the other ear.3 He snatched up the Mameluke who had kicked him and carried him off into the middle of the island, and behold, it was all full of Ghuls who eat the sons of Adam. The man cried out to his fellows, “Save yourselves, for this is the island of the man-eating Ghuls, and they mean to tear me to bits and devour me.” When they heard these words they fled back to the boat, without gathering any store of the fruits and putting out to sea, fared on some days till it so happened that they came to another island, where they found a high mountain. So they climbed to the top and there saw a thick copse. Now they were sore anhungered; so they took to eating of the fruits; but, before they were aware, there came upon them from among the trees black men of terrible aspect, each fifty cubits high with eye-teeth4 protruding from their mouths like elephants’ tusks; and, laying hands on Sayf al-Muluk and his company, carried them to their King, whom they found seated on a piece of black felt laid on a rock, and about him a great company of Zanzibar-blacks, standing in his service. The blackamoors who had captured the Prince and his Mamelukes set them before the King and said to him, “We found these birds amoung the trees”; and the King was sharp-set; so he took two of the servants and cut their throats and ate them; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 See vol. i. 138: here by way of variety I quote Mr. Payne.
2 This explains the Arab idea of the “Old Man of the Sea” in Sindbad the Seaman (vol. vi. 50). He was not a monkey nor an unknown monster; but an evil Jinni of the most powerful class, yet subject to defeat and death.
3 These Plinian monsters abound in Persian literature. For a specimen see Richardson Dissert. p. xlviii.
4 Arab. “Anyáb,” plur. of “Náb” = canine tooth (eye-tooth of man), tusks of horse and camel, etc.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Zanzibar-blacks took Sayf al-Muluk and his Mamelukes and set them before the King, saying, “O King, we came upon these birds among the trees.” Thereupon the King seized two of the Mamelukes and cut their throats and ate them; which, when Sayf al-Muluk saw, he feared for himself and wept and repeated these verses,
“Familiar with my heart are woes and with them I
Who shunned them; for familiar are great hearts and high.
The woes I suffer are not all of single kind.
I have, thank Allah, varied thousands to aby!”
Then he signed and repeated these also,
“The World hath shot me with its sorrows till
My heart is covered with shafts galore;
And now, when strike me other shafts, must break
Against th’ old points the points that latest pour.”
When the King heard his weeping and wailing, he said, “Verily these birds have sweet voices and their song pleaseth me: put them in cages.” So they set them each in his own cage and hung them up at the King’s head that he might listen to their warbling. On this wise Sayf al-Muluk and his Mamelukes abode and the blackamoors gave them to eat and drink: and now they wept and now laughed, now spake and now were hushed, whilst the King of the blacks delighted in the sound of their voices. And so they continued for a long time. Now this King had a daughter married in another island who, hearing that her father had birds with sweet voices, sent a messenger to him seeking of him some of them. So he sent her, by her Cossid,1 Sayf al-Muluk and three of his men in four cages; and, when she saw them, they pleased her and she bade hang them up in a place over her head. The Prince fell to marvelling at that which had befallen him and calling to mind his former high and honourable estate and weeping for himself; and the three servants wept for themselves; and the King’s daughter deemed that they sang. Now it was her wont, whenever any one from the land of Egypt or elsewhere fell into her hands and he pleased her, to advance him to great favour with her; and by the decree of Allah Almighty it befel that, when she saw Sayf al-Muluk she was charmed by his beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace, and she commanded to entreat him and his companions with honour and to loose them from their cages. Now one day she took the Prince apart and would have him enjoy her; but he refused, saying, “O my lady, I am a banisht wight and with passion for a beloved one in piteous plight, nor with other will I consent to love-delight.” Then she coaxed him and importuned him, but he held aloof from her, and she could not approach him nor get her desire of him by any ways and means. At last, when she was weary of courting him in vain, she waxed wroth with him and his Mamelukes, and commanded that they should serve her and fetch her wood and water. In such condition they abode four years till Sayf al-Muluk became weary of his life and sent to intercede with the Princess, so haply she might release them and let them wend their ways and be at rest from that their hard labour. So she sent for him and said to him, “If thou wilt do my desire, I will free thee from this thy durance vile and thou shalt go to thy country, safe and sound.” And she wept and ceased not to humble herself to him and wheedle him, but he would not hearken to her words; whereupon she turned from him, in anger, and he and his companions abode on the island in the same plight. The islanders knew them for “The Princess’s birds” and durst not work them any wrong; and her heart was at ease concerning them, being assured that they could not escape from the island. So they used to absent themselves from her two and three days at a time and go round about the desert parts in al directions, gathering firewood, which they brought to the Princess’s kitchen; and thus they abode five2 years. Now one day it so chanced that the Prince and his men were sitting on the sea-shore, devising of what had befallen, and Sayf al-Muluk, seeing himself and his men in such case, bethought him of his mother and father and his brother Sa’id and, calling to mind what high degree he had been in, fell a-weeping and lamenting passing sore, whilst his slaves wept likewise. Then said they to him, “O King of the Age, how long shall we weep? Weeping availeth not; for this thing was written on our brows by the ordinance of Allah, to whom belong Might and Majesty. Indeed, the Pen runneth with that He decreeth and nought will serve us but patience: haply Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) who hath saddened us shall gladden us!” Quoth he, “O my brothers, how shall we win free from this accursed woman? I see no way of escape for us, save Allah of his grace deliver us from her; but methinks we may flee and be at rest from this hard labour.” And quoth they, “O King of the Age, whither shall we flee? For the whole island is full of Ghuls which devour the Sons of Adam, and whithersoever we go, they will find us there and either eat us or capture and carry us back to that accursed, the King’s daughter, who will be wroth with us.” Sayf al-Muluk rejoined, “I will contrive you somewhat, whereby peradventure Allah Almighty shall deliver us and help us to escape from this island.” They asked, “And how wilt thou do?”; and he answered, “Let us cut some of these long pieces of wood, and twist ropes of their bark and bind them one with another, and make of them a raft3 which we will launch and load with these fruits: then we will fashion us paddles and embark on the raft after breaking our bonds with the axe. It may be that Almighty Allah will make it the means of our deliverance from this accursed woman and vouchsafe us a fair wind to bring us to the land of Hind, for He over all things is Almighty!” Said they, “Right is thy rede,” and rejoiced thereat with exceeding joy. So they arose without stay or delay and cut with their axes wood for the raft and twisted ropes to bind the logs and at this they worked a whole month. Every day about evening they gathered somewhat of fuel and bore it to the Princess’s kitchen, and employed the rest of the twenty-four hours working at the raft. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab, “Kásid,” the Anglo–Indian Cossid. The post is called Baríd from the Persian “burídah” (cut) because the mules used for the purpose were dock-tailed. Barid applies equally to the post-mule, the rider and the distance from one station (Sikkah) to another which varied from two to six parasangs. The letter-carrier was termed Al–Faránik from the Pers. Parwánah, a servant. In the Diwán al-Baríd (Post-office) every letter was entered in a Madraj or list called in Arabic Al–Askidár from the Persian “Az Kih dárí” = from whom hast thou it?
2 “Ten years” in the Bresl. Edit. iv. 244.
3 In the Bresl. Edit. (iv. 245) we find “Kalak,” a raft, like those used upon the Euphrates, and better than the “Fulk,” or ship, of the Mac. Edit.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sayf al-Muluk and his Mamelukes, having cut the wood and twisted the ropes for their raft, made an end of it and launched it upon the sea; then, after breaking their bonds with the axe, and loading the craft with fruits plucked from the island-trees, they embarked at close of day; nor did any wot of their intent. They put out to sea in their raft and paddled on four months, knowing not whither the craft carried them, till their provaunt failed them and they were suffering the severest extreme of hunger and thirst, when behold, the sea waxed troubled and foamed and rose in high waves, and there came forth upon them a frightful crocodile,1 which put out its claw and catching up one of the Mamelukes swallowed him. At the sight of this horror Sayf al-Muluk wept bitterly and he and the two men2 that remained to him pushed off from the place where they had seen the crocodile, sore affrighted. After this they continued drifting on till one day they espied a mountain terrible tall and spiring high in air, whereat they rejoiced, when presently an island appeared. They made towards it with all their might congratulating one another on the prospect of making land; but hardly had they sighted the island on which was the mountain, when the sea changed face and boiled and rose in big waves and a second crocodile raised its head and putting out its claw caught up the two remaining Mamelukes and swallowed them. So Sayf al-Muluk abode alone, and making his way to the island, toiled till he reached the mountain-top, where he looked about and found a copse, and walking among the trees feel to eating of the fruits. Presently, he saw among the branches more than twenty great apes, each bigger than a he-mule, whereat he was seized with exceeding fear. The apes came down and surrounded him;3 then forewent him, signing to him to follow them, and walked on, and he too, till he came to a castle, tall of base and strong of build whose ordinance was one brick of gold and one of silver. The apes entered and he after them, and he saw in the castle all manner of rarities, jewels and precious metals such as tongue faileth to describe. Here also he found a young man, passing tall of stature with no hair on his cheeks, and Sayf al-Muluk was cheered by the sight for there was no human being but he in the castle. The stranger marvelled exceedingly at sight of the Prince and asked him, “What is thy name and of what land art thou and how camest thou hither? Tell me thy tale and hide from me naught thereof.” Answered the Prince, “By Allah, I came not hither of my own consent nor is this place of my intent; yet I cannot but go from place to place till I win my wish.” Quoth the youth, “And what is thy object?”; and quoth the other, “I am of the land of Egypt and my name is Sayf al-Muluk son of King Asim bin Safwan”; and told him all that had passed with him, from first to last. Whereupon the youth arose and stood in his service, saying, “O King of the Age, I was erst in Egypt and heard that thou hadst gone to the land of China; but where is this land and where lies China-land?4 Verily, this is a wondrous thing and marvellous matter!” Answered the Prince, “Sooth thou speakest but, when I left China-land, I set out, intending for the land of Hind and a stormy wind arose and the sea boiled and broke all my ships”; brief, he told him all that had befallen him till he came thither; whereupon quoth the other, “O King’s son, thou hast had enough of strangerhood and its sufferings; Alhamdolillah — praised be Allah who hath brought thee hither! So now do thou abide with me, that I may enjoy thy company till I die, when thou shalt become King over this island, to which no bound is known, and these apes thou seest are indeed skilled in all manner of crafts; and whatso thou seekest here shalt thou find.” Replied Sayf al-Muluk, “O my brother I may not tarry in any place till my wish be won, albeit I compass the whole world in pursuit thereof and make quest of every one so peradventure Allah may bring me to my desire or my course lead me to the place wherein is the appointed term of my days, and I shall die my death.” Then the youth turned with a sign to one of the apes, and he went out and was absent awhile, after which he returned with other apes girt with silken zones.5 They brought the trays and set on near6 an hundred chargers of gold and saucers of silver, containing all manner of meats. Then they stood, after the manner of servants between the hands of Kings, till the youth signalled to the Chamberlains, who sat down, and he whose wont it was to serve stood, whilst the two Princes ate their sufficiency. Then the apes cleared the table and brought basins and ewers of gold, and they washed their hands in rose water; after which they set on fine sugar and nigh forty flagons, in each a different kind of wine, and they drank and took their pleasure and made merry and had a fine time. And all the apes danced and gambolled before them, what while the eaters sat at meat; which when Sayf al-Muluk saw, he marvelled at them and forgot that which had befallen him of sufferings. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Timsah” from Coptic (Old Egypt) Emsuh or Msuh. The animal cannot live in salt-water, a fact which proves that the Crocodile Lakes on the Suez Canal were in old days fed by Nile-water; and this was necessarily a Canal.
2 So in the Bresl. Edit. (iv. 245). In the Mac. text “one man,” which better suits the second crocodile, for the animal can hardly be expected to take two at a time.
3 He had ample reason to be frightened. The large Cynocephalus is exceedingly dangerous. When travelling on the Gold Coast with my late friend Colonel De Ruvignes, we suddenly came in the grey of the morning upon a herd of these beasts. We dismounted, hobbled our nags and sat down, sword and revolver in hand. Luckily it was feeding time for the vicious brutes, which scowled at us but did not attack us. During my four years’ service on the West African Coast I heard enough to satisfy me that these powerful beasts often kill me and rape women; but I could not convince myself that they ever kept the women as concubines.
4 As we should say in English “it is a far cry to Loch Awe”: the Hindu by-word is, “Dihlí (Delhi) is a long way off.” See vol. i. 37.
5 Arab. “Fútah”, a napkin, a waistcloth, the Indian Zones alluded to by the old Greek travellers.
6 Arab. “Yají (it comes) miat khwánjah”— quite Fellah talk.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sayf al-Muluk saw the gestures and gambols of the apes, he marvelled thereat and forgot that which had betided him of strangerhood and its sufferings. At nightfall they lighted waxen candles in candlesticks of gold studded with gems and set on dishes of confections and fruits of sugar-candy. So they ate; and when the hour of rest was come, the apes spread them bedding and they slept. And when morning morrowed, the young man arose, as was his wont, before sunrise and waking Sayf al-Muluk said to him, “Put thy head forth of this lattice and see what standeth beneath it.” So he put out his head and saw the wide waste and all the wold filled with apes, whose number none knew save Allah Almighty. Quoth he, “Here be great plenty of apes, for they cover the whole country: but why are they assembled at this hour?” Quoth the youth, “This is their custom. Every Sabbath,1 all the apes in the island come hither, some from two and three days’ distance, and stand here till I awake from sleep and put forth my head from this lattice, when they kiss ground before me and go about their business.” So saying, he put his head out of the window; and when the apes saw him, they kissed the earth before him and went their way. Sayf al-Muluk abode with the young man a whole month when he farewelled him and departed, escorted by a party of nigh a hundred apes, which the young man bade escort him. They journeyed with him seven days, till they came to the limits of their islands,2 when they took leave of him and returned to their places, while Sayf al-Muluk fared on alone over mount and hill, desert and plain, four months’ journey, one day anhungered and the next satiated, now eating of the herbs of the earth and then of the fruits of the trees, till he repented him of the harm he had done himself by leaving the young man; and he was about to retrace his steps to him, when he saw something black afar off and said to himself, “Is this a city or trees? But I will not turn back till I see what it is.” So he made towards it and when he drew near, he saw that it was a palace tall of base. Now he who built it was Japhet son of Noah (on whom be peace!) and it is of this palace that God the Most High speaketh in His precious Book, whenas He saith, “And an abandoned well and a high-builded palace.”3 Sayf al-Muluk sat down at the gate and said in his mind, “Would I knew what is within yonder palace and what King dwelleth there and who shall acquaint me whether its folk are men or Jinn? Who will tell me the truth of the case?” He sat considering awhile, but, seeing none go in or come out, he rose and committing himself to Allah Almighty entered the palace and walked on, till he had counted seven vestibules; yet saw no one. Presently looking to his right he beheld three doors, while before him was a fourth, over which hung a curtain. So he went up to this and raising the curtain, found himself in a great hall4 spread with silken carpets. At the upper end rose a throne of gold whereon sat a damsel, whose face was like the moon, arrayed in royal raiment and beautified as she were a bride on the night of her displaying; and at the foot of the throne was a table of forty trays spread with golden and silvern dishes full of dainty viands. The Prince went up and saluted her, and she returned his salam, saying, “Art thou of mankind or of the Jinn?” Replied he, “I am a man of the best of mankind;5 for I am a King, son of a King.” She rejoined, “What seekest thou? Up with thee and eat of yonder food, and after tell me thy past from first to last and how thou camest hither.” So he sat down at the table and removing the cover from a tray of meats (he being hungry), ate till he was full; then washed his right hand and going up to the throne, sat down by the damsel who asked him, “Who art thou and what is thy name and whence comest thou and who brought thee hither?” He answered, “Indeed my story is a long but do thou first tell me who and what and whence thou art and why thou dwellest in this place alone.” She rejoined, “My name is Daulat Khátun6 and I am the daughter of the King of Hind. My father dwelleth in the Capital-city of Sarandíb and hath a great and goodly garden, there is no goodlier in all the land of Hind or its dependencies; and in this garden is a great tank. One day, I went out into the garden with my slave-women and I stripped me naked and they likewise and, entering the tank, fell to sporting and solacing ourselves therein. Presently, before I could be ware, a something as it were a cloud swooped down on me and snatching me up from amongst my handmaids, soared aloft with me betwixt heaven and earth, saying, ‘Fear not, O Daulat Khatun, but be of good heart.’ Then he flew on with me a little while, after which he set me down in this palace and straightway without stay or delay became a handsome young man daintily apparelled, who said to me, ‘Now dost thou know me?’ Replied I, ‘No, O my lord’; and he said, ‘I am the Blue King, Sovran of the Jann; my father dwelleth in the Castle Al–Kulzum7 hight, and hath under his hand six hundred thousand Jinn, flyers and divers. It chanced that while passing on my way I saw thee and fell in love with thee for thy lovely form: so I swooped down on thee and snatched thee up from among the slave-girls and brought thee to this the High-builded Castle, which is my dwelling-place. None may fare hither be he man or be he Jinni, and from Hind hither is a journey of an hundred and twenty years: wherefore do thou hold that thou wilt never again behold the land of thy father and thy mother; so abide with me here, in contentment of heart and peace, and I will bring to thy hands whatso thou seekest.’ Then he embraced me and kissed me,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 As Trébutien shows (ii. 155) these apes were a remnant of some ancient tribe possibly those of Ád who had gone to Meccah to pray for rain and thus escaped the general destruction. See vol. i. 65. Perhaps they were the Jews of Aylah who in David’s day were transformed into monkeys for fishing on the Sabbath (Saturday) Koran ii. 61.
2 I can see no reason why Lane purposely changes this to “the extremity of their country.”
3 Koran xxii. 44, Mr. Payne remarks:— This absurd addition is probably due to some copyist, who thought to show his knowledge of the Koran, but did not understand the meaning of the verse from which the quotation is taken and which runs thus, “How many cities have We destroyed, whilst yet they transgressed, and they are laid low on their own foundations and wells abandoned and high-builded palaces!” Mr. Lane observes that the words are either misunderstood or purposely misapplied by the author of the tale. Purposeful perversions of Holy Writ are very popular amongst Moslems and form part of their rhetoric; but such is not the case here. According to Von Hammer (Trébutien ii. 154), “Eastern geographers place the Bir al-Mu’utallal (Ruined Well) and the Kasr al-Mashíd (High-builded Castle) in the province of Hadramaut, and we wait for a new Niebuhr to inform us what are the monuments or the ruins so called.” His text translates puits arides et palais de plâtre (not likely!). Lane remarks that Mashíd mostly means “plastered,” but here = Mushayyad, lofty, explained in the Jalálayn Commentary as = rafí‘a, high-raised. The two places are also mentioned by Al–Mas’údi; and they occur in Al–Kazwíni (see Night dccclviii.): both of these authors making the Koran directly allude to them.
4 Arab. (from Pers.) “Aywán” which here corresponds with the Egyptian “líwán” a tall saloon with estrades.
5 This naïve style of “renowning it” is customary in the East, contrasting with the servile address of the subject —“thy slave” etc.
6 Daulat (not Dawlah) the Anglo–Indian Dowlat; prop. meaning the shifts of affairs, hence, fortune, empire, kingdom. Khátún = “lady,” I have noted, follows the name after Turkish fashion.
7 The old name of Suez-town from the Greek Clysma (the shutting), which named the Gulf of Suez “Sea of Kulzum.” The ruins in the shape of a huge mound, upon which Sá‘id Pasha built a Kiosk-palace, lie to the north of the modern town and have been noticed by me. (Pilgrimage, Midian, etc.) The Rev. Prof. Sayce examined the mound and from the Roman remains found in it determined it to be a fort guarding the old mouth of the Old Egyptian Sweet-water Canal which then debouched near the town.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the damsel said to Sayf al-Muluk, “Then the King of the Jann, after he had acquainted me with his case, embraced me and kissed me, saying, ‘Abide here and fear nothing’; whereupon he went away from me for an hour and presently returned with these tables and carpets and furniture. He comes to me every Third1 and abideth with me three days and on Friday, at the time of mid-afternoon prayer, he departeth and is absent till the following Third. When he is here, he eateth and drinketh and kisseth and huggeth me, but doth naught else with me, and I am a pure virgin, even as Allah Almighty created me. My father’s name is Táj al-Mulúk, and he wotteth not what is come of me nor hath he hit upon any trace of me. This is my story: now tell me thy tale.” Answered the Prince, “My story is a long and I fear lest while I am telling it to thee the Ifrit come.” Quoth she “He went out from me but an hour before thy entering and will not return till Third: so sit thee down and take thine ease and hearten thy heart and tell me what hath betided thee, from beginning to end.” And quoth he, “I hear and I obey.” So he fell to telling her all that had befallen him from commencement to conclusion but, when she heard speak of Badi’a al-Jamal, her eyes ran over with railing tears and she cried, “O Badi’a al-Jamal, I had not thought this of thee! Alack for our luck! O Badi’a al-Jamal, dost thou not remember me nor say, ‘My sister Daulat Khatun whither is she gone?’” And her weeping redoubled, lamenting for that Badi’a al-Jamal had forgotten her.2 Then said Sayf al-Muluk, “O Daulat Khatun, thou art a mortal and she is a Jinniyah: how then can she be thy sister?” Replied the Princess, “She is my sister by fosterage and this is how it came about. My mother went out to solace herself in the garden, when labour-pangs seized her and she bare me. Now the mother of Badi’a al-Jamal chanced to be passing with her guards, when she also was taken with travail-pains; so she alighted in a side of the garden and there brought forth Badi’a al-Jamal. She despatched one of her women to seek food and childbirth-gear of my mother, who sent her what she sought and invited her to visit her. So she came to her with Badi’a al-Jamal and my mother suckled the child, who with her mother tarried with us in the garden two months. And before wending her ways the mother of Badi’a al-Jamal gave my mother somewhat,3 saying, ‘When thou hast need of me, I will come to thee a middlemost the garden,’ and departed to her own land; but she and her daughter used to visit us every year and abide with us awhile before returning home. Wherefore an I were with my mother, O Sayf al-Muluk, and if thou wert with me in my own country and Badi’a al-Jamal and I were together as of wont, I would devise some device with her to bring thee to thy desire of her: but I am here and they know naught of me; for that an they kenned what is become of me, they have power to deliver me from this place; however, the matter is in Allah’s hands (extolled and exalteth be He!) and what can I do?” Quoth Sayf al-Muluk, “Rise and let us flee and go whither the Almighty willeth;” but, quoth she, “We cannot do that: for, by Allah, though we fled hence a year’s journey that accursed would overtake us in an hour and slaughter us.” Then said the Prince, “I will hide myself in his way, and when he passeth by I will smite him with the sword and slay him.” Daulat Khatun replied, “Thou canst not succeed in slaying him save thou his soul.” Asked he, “And where is his soul?”; and she answered, “Many a time have I questioned him thereof but he would not tell me, till one day I pressed him and he waxed wroth with me and said to me, ‘How often wilt thou ask me of my soul? What hast thou to do with my soul?’ I rejoined, ‘O Hátim,4 there remaineth none to me but thou, except Allah; and my life dependeth on thy life and whilst thou livest, all is well for me; so, except I care for thy soul and set it in the apple of this mine eye, how shall I live in thine absence? An I knew where thy soul abideth, I would never cease whilst I live, to hold it in mine embrace and would keep it as my right eye.’ Whereupon said he to me, ‘What time I was born, the astrologers predicted that I should lose my soul at the hands of the son of a king of mankind. So I took it and set it in the crop of a sparrow, and shut up the bird in a box. The box I set in a casket, and enclosing this in seven other caskets and seven chests, laid the whole in a alabastrine coffer,5 which I buried within the marge of yon earth-circling sea; for that these parts are far from the world of men and none of them can win hither. So now see I have told thee what thou wouldst know, and do thou tell none thereof, for it is a secret between me and thee.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. Tuesday. See vol. iii. 249.
2 Because being a Jinniyah the foster-sister could have come to her and saved her from old maidenhood.
3 Arab. “Hájah” properly a needful thing. This consisted according to the Bresl. Edit. of certain perfumes, by burning which she could summon the Queen of the Jinn.
4 Probably used in its sense of a “black crow.” The Bresl. Edit. (iv. 261) has “Khátim” (seal-ring) which is but one of its almost innumerable misprints.
5 Here it is called “Tábik” and afterwards “Tábút.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Daulat Khatun acquainted Sayf al-Muluk with the whereabouts of the soul of the Jinni who had carried her off and repeated to him his speech ending with, “And this is a secret between me and thee!” “I rejoined,” quoth she, “‘To whom should I tell it, seeing that none but thou cometh hither with whom I may talk thereof?’ adding, ‘By Allah, thou hast indeed set thy soul in the strongest of strongholds to which none may gain access! How should a man win to it, unless the impossible be fore-ordained and Allah decree like as the astrologers predicted?’ Thereupon the Jinni, ‘Peradventure one may come, having on his finger the seal-ring of Solomon son of David (on the twain be peace!) and lay his hand with the ring on the face of the water, saying, ‘By the virtue of the names engraven upon this ring, let the soul of such an one come forth!’ Whereupon the coffer will rise to the surface and he will break it open and do the like with the chests and caskets, till he come to the little box, when he will take out the sparrow and strangle it, and I shall die.’” Then said Sayf al-Muluk, “I am the King’s son of whom he spake, and this is the ring of Solomon David-son on my finger: so rise, let us go down to the sea-shore and see if his words be leal or leasing!” Thereupon the two walked down to the sea-shore and the Princess stood on the beach, whilst the Prince waded into the water to his waist and laying his hand with the ring on the surface of the sea, said, “By the virtue of the names and talismans engraven on this ring, and by the might of Sulayman bid Dáúd (on whom be the Peace!), let the soul of Hatim the Jinni, son of the Blue King, come forth!” Whereat the sea boiled in billows and the coffer of alabaster rose to the surface. Sayf al-Muluk took it and shattered it against the rock and broke open the chests and caskets, till he came to the little box and drew thereout the sparrow. Then the twain returned to the castle and sat down on the throne; but hardly had they done this, when lo and behold! there arose a dust-cloud terrifying and some huge thing came flying and crying, “Spare me, O King’s son, and slay me not; but make me thy freedman, and I will bring thee to thy desire!” Quoth Daulat Khatun, “The Jinni cometh; slay the sparrow, lest this accursed enter the palace and take it from thee and slaughter me and slaughter thee after me.” So the Prince wrung the sparrow’s neck and it died, whereupon the Jinni fell down at the palace-door and became a heap of black ashes. Then said Daulat Khatun, “We are delivered from the hand of yonder accursed; what shall we do now?”; and Sayf al-Muluk replied, “It behoveth us to ask aid of Allah Almighty who hath afflicted us; belike He will direct us and help us to escape from this our strait.” So saying, he arose and pulling up1 half a score of the doors of the palace, which were of sandal-wood and lign-aloes with nails of gold and silver, bound them together with ropes of silk and floss2-silk and fine linen and wrought of them a raft, which he and the Princess aided each other to hale down to the sea-shore. They launched it upon the water till it floated and, making it fast to the beach, returned to the palace, whence they removed all the chargers of gold and saucers of silver and jewels and precious stones and metals and what else was light of load and weighty of worth and freighted the raft therewith. Then they embarked after fashioning two pieces of wood into the likeness of paddles and casting off the rope-moorings, let the raft drift out to sea with them, committing themselves to Allah the Most High, who contenteth those that put their trust in Him and disappointeth not them who rely upon Him. They ceased not faring on thus four months until their victual was exhausted and their sufferings waxed severe and their souls were straitened; so they prayed Allah to vouchsafe them deliverance from that danger. But all this time when they lay down to sleep, Sayf al-Muluk set Daulat Khatun behind him and laid a naked brand at his back, so that, when he turned in sleep the sword was between them.3 At last it chanced one night, when Sayf al-Muluk was asleep and Daulat Khatun awake, that behold, the raft drifted landwards and entered a port wherein were ships. The Princess saw the ships and heard a man, he being the chief and head of the captains, talking with the sailors; whereby she knew that this was the port of some city and that they were come to an inhabited country. So she joyed with exceeding joy and waking the Prince said to him, “Ask the captain the name of the city and harbour.” Thereupon Sayf al-Muluk arose and said to the captain, “O my brother, how is this harbour hight and what be the names of yonder city and its King?” Replied the Captain, “O false face!4 O frosty beard! an thou knew not the name of this port and city, how camest thou hither?” Quoth Sayf al-Muluk, “I am a stranger and had taken passage in a merchant ship which was wrecked and sank with all on board; but I saved myself on a plank and made my way hither; wherefore I asked thee the name of the place, and in asking is no offence.” Then said the captain, “This is the city of ‘Amáriyah and this harbour is called Kamín al-Bahrayn.”5 When the Princess heard this she rejoiced with exceeding joy and said, “Praised be Allah!” He asked, “What is to do?”; and she answered, “O Sayf al-Muluk, rejoice in succour near hand; for the King of this city is my uncle, my father’s brother.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. raising from the lower hinge-pins. See vol. ii. 214.
2 Arab. “Abrísam” or “Ibrísam” (from Persian Abrísham or Ibrísham) = raw silk or floss, i.e. untwisted silk.
3 This knightly practice, evidently borrowed from the East, appears in many romances of chivalry e.g. When Sir Tristram is found by King Mark asleep beside Ysonde (Isentt) with drawn sword between them, the former cried:—
Gif they weren in sinne
Nought so they no lay.
And we are told:—
Sir Amys and the lady bright
To bed gan they go;
And when they weren in bed laid,
Sir Amys his sword out-brayed
And held it between them two.
This occurs in the old French romance of Amys and Amyloun which is taken into the tale of the Ravens in the Seven Wise Masters where Ludovic personates his friend Alexander in marrying the King of Egypt’s daughter and sleeps every night with a bare blade between him and the bride. See also Aladdin and his lamp. An Englishman remarked, “The drawn sword would be little hindrance to a man and maid coming together.” The drawn sword represented only the Prince’s honour.
4 Arab. “Ya Sáki’ al-Wajh,” which Lane translates by “lying” or “liar.”
5 Kamín (in Bresl. Edit. “bayn” = between) Al–Bahrayn = Ambuscade or lurking-place of the two seas. The name of the city in Lane is “‘Emareeych” imaginary but derived from Emarch (’imárah) = being populous. Trébutien (ii. 161) takes from Bresl. Edit. “Amar” and translates the port-name, “le lieu de refuge des deux mers.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Daulat Khatun said to Sayf al-Muluk, “Rejoice in safety near hand; for the King of this city is my uncle, my father’s brother and his name is ‘Ali al-Mulúk,”1 adding, “Say thou then to the captain, ‘Is the Sultan of the city, Ali al-Muluk, well?’” He asked but the captain was wroth with him and cried, “Thou sayest, ‘I am a stranger and never in my life came hither.’ Who then told thee the name of the lord of the city?” When Daulat Khatun heard this, she rejoiced and knew him for Mu’ín al-Dín,2 one of her father’s captains. Now he had fared forth in search of her, after she was lost and finding her not, he never ceased cruising till he came to her uncle’s city. Then she bade Sayf al-Muluk say to him, “O Captain Mu’in al-Din, come and speak with thy mistress!” So he called out to him as she bade, whereat he was wroth with exceeding wrath and answered, “O dog, O thief, O spy, who art thou and how knowest thou me?” Then he said to one of the sailors, “Give me an ash3-stave, that I may go to yonder plaguing Arab and break his head.” So he tookt he stick and made for Sayf al-Muluk, but, when he came to the raft, he saw a something, wondrous, beauteous, which confounded his wits and considering it straitly he made sure that it was Daulat Khatun sitting there, as she were a slice of the moon; whereat he said to the Prince, “Who is that with thee?” Replied he, “A damsel by name Daulat Khatun.” When the captain heard the Princess’s name and knew that she was his mistress and the daughter of his King, he fell down in a fainting-fit, and when he came to himself, he left the raft and whatso was thereon and riding up to the palace, craved an audience of the King; whereupon the chamberlain went in to the presence and said, “Captain Mu’in al-Din is come to bring thee good news; so bid he be brought in.” The King bade admit him; accordingly he entered and kissing ground4 said to him, “O King, thou owest me a gift for glad tidings; for thy brother’s daughter Daulat Khatun hath reached our city safe and sound, and is now on a raft in the harbour, in company with a young man like the moon on the night of its full.” When the King heard this, he rejoiced and conferred a costly robe of honour on the captain. Then he straightway bade decorate the city in honour of the safe return of his brother’s daughter, and sending for her and Sayf al-Muluk, saluted the twain and gave them joy of their safety; after which he despatched a messenger to his brother, to let him know that his daughter was found and was with him. As soon as the news reached Taj al-Muluk he gat him ready and assembling his troops set out for his brother’s capital, where he found his daughter and they rejoiced with exceeding joy. He sojourned with his brother a week, after which he took his daughter and Sayf al-Muluk and returned to Sarandib, where the Princess foregathered with her mother and they rejoiced at her safe return; and held high festival and that day was a great day, never was seen its like. As for Sayf al-Muluk, the King entreated him with honour and said to him, “O Sayf al-Muluk, thou hast done me and my daughter all this good for which I cannot requite thee nor can any requite thee, save the Lord of the three Worlds; but I wish thee to sit upon the throne in my stead and rule the land of Hind, for I offer thee of my throne and kingdom and treasures and servants, all this in free gift to thee.” Whereupon Sayf al-Muluk rose and kissing the ground before the King, thanked him and answered, “O King of the Age, I accept all thou givest me and return it to thee in freest gift; for I, O King of the Age, covet not sovranty nor sultanate nor desire aught but that Allah the Most High bring me to my desire.” Rejoined the King, “O Sayf al-Muluk these my treasures are at thy disposal: take of them what thou wilt, without consulting me, and Allah requite thee for me with all weal!” Quoth the Prince, “Allah advance the King! There is no delight for me in money or in dominion till I win my wish: but now I have a mind to solace myself in the city and view its thoroughfares and market-streets.” So the King bade bring him a mare of the thoroughbreds, saddled and bridled; and Sayf al-Muluk mounted her and rode through the streets and markets of the city. As he looked about him right and left, lo! his eyes fell on a young man, who was carrying a tunic and crying it for sale at fifteen dinars: so he considered him and saw him to be like his brother Sa’id; and indeed it was his very self, but he was wan of blee and changed for long strangerhood and the travails of travel, so that he knew him not. However, he said to his attendants, “Take yonder youth and carry him to the palace where I lodge, and keep him with you till my return from the ride when I will question him.” But they understood him to say, “Carry him to the prison,” and said in themselves “Haply this is some runaway Mameluke of his.” So they took him and bore him to the bridewell, where they laid him in irons and left him seated in solitude, unremembered by any. Presently Sayf al-Muluk returned to the palace, but he forgot his brother Sa’id, and none made mention of him. So he abode in prison, and when they brought out the prisoners, to cut ashlar from the quarries they took Sa’id with them, and he wrought with the rest. He abode a month’s space, in this squalor and sore sorrow, pondering his case and saying in himself, “What is the cause of my imprisonment?”; while Sayf al-Muluk’s mind was diverted from him by rejoicing and other things; but one day, as he sat, he bethought him of Sa’id and said to his Mamelukes, “Where is the white slave I gave into your charge on such a day?” Quoth they, “Didst thou not bid us bear him to the bridewell?”; and quoth he, “Nay, I said not so; I bade you carry him to my palace after the ride.” Then he sent his Chamberlains and Emirs for Sa’id and they fetched him in fetters, and loosing him from his irons set him before the Prince, who asked him, “O young man, what countryman art thou?”; and he answered, “I am from Egypt and my name is Sa’id, son of Faris the Wazir.” Now hearing these words Sayf al-Muluk sprang to his feet and throwing himself off the throne and upon his friend, hung on his neck, weeping aloud for very joy and saying, “O my brother, O Sa’id, praise be Allah for King Asim.” Then they embraced and shed tears together and all who were present marvelled at them. After this Sayf al-Muluk bade his people bear Sa’id to the Hammam-bath: and they did so. When he came out, they clad him in costly clothing and carried him back to Sayf al-Muluk who seated him on the throne beside himself. When King Taj al-Muluk heard of the reunion of Sayf al-Muluk and his brother Sa’id, he joyed with you exceeding and came to them, and the three sat devising of all that had befallen them in the past from first to last. Then said Sa’id, “O my brother, O Sayf al-Muluk, when the ship sank with all on board I saved myself on a plank with a company of Mamelukes and it drifted with us a whole month, when the wind cast us, by the ordinance of Allah Almighty, upon an island. So we landed and entering among the trees took to eating of the fruits, for we were anhungred. Whilst we were busy eating, there fell on us unawares, folk like Ifrits5 and springing on our shoulders rode us6 and said to us, ‘Go on with us; for ye are become our asses.’ So I said to him who had mounted me, ‘What art thou and why mountest thou me?’ At this he twisted one of his legs about my neck, till I was all but dead, and beat upon my back the while with the other leg, till I thought he had broken my backbone. So I fell to the ground on my face, having no strength left in me for famine and thirst. From my fall he knew that I was hungry and taking me by the hand, led me to a tree laden with fruit which was a pear-tree7 and said to me, ‘Eat thy fill of this tree.’ So I ate till I had enough and rose to walk against my will; but, ere I had fared afar the creature turned and leaping on my shoulders again drove me on, now walking, now running and now trotting, and he the while mounted on me, laughing and saying, ‘Never in my life saw I a donkey like unto thee!’ We abode thus for years till, one day of the days, it chanced that we saw there great plenty of vines, covered with ripe fruit; so we gathered a quantity of grape-bunches and throwing them into a pit, trod them with our feet, till the pit became a great water-pool. Then we waited awhile and presently returning thither, found that the sun had wroughten on the grape-juice and it was become wine. So we used to drink it till we were drunken and our faces flushed and we fell to singing and dancing and running about in the merriment of drunkenness;8 whereupon our masters said to us, ‘What is it that reddeneth your faces and maketh you dance and sing?’ We replied, ‘Ask us not, what is your quest in questioning us hereof?’ But they insisted, saying, ‘You must tell us so that we may know the truth of the case,’ till we told them how we had pressed grapes and made wine. Quoth they, ‘Give us to drink thereof’; but quoth we, ‘The grapes are spent.’ So they brought us to a Wady, whose length we knew not from its breadth nor its beginning from its end wherein were vines each bunch of grapes on them weighing twenty pounds9 by the scale and all within easy reach, and they said, ‘Gather of these.’ So we gathered a mighty great store of grapes and finding there a big trench bigger than the great tank in the King’s garden we filled it full of fruit. This we trod with our feet and did with the juice as before till it became strong wine, which it did after a month; whereupon we said to them, ‘’Tis come to perfection; but in what will ye drink it?’ And they replied, ‘We had asses like unto you; but we ate them and kept their heads: so give us to drink in their skulls.’ We went to their caves which we found full of heads and bones of the Sons of Adam, and we gave them to drink, when they became drunken and lay down, nigh two hundred of them. Then we said to one another, ‘Is it not enough that they should ride us, but they must eat us also? There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! But we will ply them with wine, till they are overcome by drunkenness, when we will slay them and be at rest from them.’ Accordingly, we awoke them and fell to filling the skulls and gave them to drink, but they said, ‘This is bitter.’ We replied, ‘Why say ye ’tis bitter? Whoso saith thus, except he drink of it ten times, he dieth the same day.’ When they heard this, they feared death and cried to us, ‘Give us to drink the whole ten times.’ So we gave them to drink, and when they swallowed the rest of the ten draughts they waxed drunken exceedingly and their strength failed them and they availed not to mount us. Thereupon we dragged them together by their hands and laying them one upon another, collected great plenty of dry vine-stalks and branches and heaped it about and upon them: then we set fire to the pile and stood afar off, to see what became of them.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. “High of (among) the Kings.” Lane proposes to read ‘Ali al-Mulk = high in dominion.
2 Pronounce Mu’inuddeen = Aider of the Faith. The Bresl. Edit. (iv. 266) also read “Mu’in al-Riyásah” = Mu’in of the Captaincies.
3 Arab. “Shúm” = a tough wood used for the staves with which donkeys are driven. Sir Gardner Wilkinson informed Lane that it is the ash.
4 In Persian we find the fuller metaphorical form, “kissing the ground of obedience.”
5 For the Shaykh of the Sea(-board) in Sindbad the Seaman see vol. vi. 50.
6 That this riding is a facetious exaggeration of the African practice I find was guessed by Mr. Keightley.
7 Arab. “Kummasra”: the root seems to be “Kamsara” = being slender or compact.
8 Lane translates, “by reason of the exhilaration produced by intoxication.” But the Arabic here has no assonance. The passage also alludes to the drunken habits of those blameless Ethiopians, the races of Central Africa where, after midday a chief is rarely if ever found sober. We hear much about drink in England but Englishmen are mere babes compared with these stalwart Negroes. In Unyamwezi I found all the standing bedsteads of pole-sleepers and bark-slabs disposed at an angle of about 20 degrees for the purpose of draining off the huge pottle-fulls of Pome (Osirian beer) drained by the occupants; and, comminxit lectum potus might be said of the whole male population.
9 This is not exaggerated. When at Hebron I saw the biblical spectacle of two men carrying a huge bunch slung to a pole, not so much for the weight as to keep the grapes from injury.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sa’id continued, “When we set fire to the pile wherein were the Ghuls, I with the Mamelukes stood afar off to see what became of them; and, as soon the fire was burnt out, we came back and found them a heap of ashes, wherefore we praised Allah Almighty who had delivered us from them. Then we went forth about the island and sought the sea-shore, where we parted and I and two of the Mamelukes fared on till we came to a thick copse full of fruit and there busied ourselves with eating, and behold, presently up came a man tall of stature, long of beard and lengthy of ear, with eyes like cressets, driving before him and feeding a great flock of sheep.1 When he saw us he rejoiced and said to us, ‘Well come, and fair welcome to you! Draw near me that I may slaughter you an ewe of these sheep and roast it and give you to eat.’ Quoth we, ‘Where is thine abode?’ And quoth he, ‘Hard by yonder mountain; go on towards it till ye come to a cave and enter therein, for you will see many guests like yourselves; and do ye sit with them, whilst we make ready for you the guest-meal.’ We believed him so fared on, as he bade us, till we came to the cavern, where we found many guests, Sons of Adam like ourselves, but they were all blinded;2 and when we entered, one said, ‘I’m sick’; and another, ‘I’m weak.’ So we cried to them, ‘What is this you say and what is the cauase of your sickness and weakness?’ They asked, ‘Who are ye?’; and we answered, ‘We are guests.’ Then said they, ‘What hath made you fall into the hands of yonder accursed? But there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! This is a Ghul who devoureth the Sons of Adam and he hath blinded us and meaneth to eat us.’ Said we, ‘And how did he blind you?’ and they replied, ‘Even as he will blind yourselves anon.’ Quoth we, ‘And how so?’ And quoth they, ‘He will bring you bowls of soured milk3 and will say to you, ‘Ye are weary with wayfare: take this milk and drink it.’ And when ye have drunken thereof, ye will become blind like us.’ Said I to myself, ‘There is no escape for us but by contrivance.’ So I dug a hole in the ground and sat over it. After an hour or so in came the accursed Ghul with bowls of milk, whereof he gave to each of us, saying, ‘Ye come from the desert and are athirst: so take this milk and drink it, whilst I roast you the flesh.’ I took the cup and carried it to my mouth but emptied it into the hole; then I cried out, ‘Alas! my sight is gone and I am blind!’ and clapping my hand to my eyes, fell a-weeping and a-wailing, whilst the accursed laughed and said, ‘Fear not, thou art now become like mine other guests.’ But, as for my two comrades, they drank the milk and became blind. Thereupon the Ghul arose and stopping up the mouth of the cavern came to me and felt my ribs, but found me lean and with no flesh on my bones: so he tried another and finding him fat, rejoiced. Then he slaughtered three sheep and skinned them and fetching iron spits, spitted the flesh thereon and set them over the fire to roast. When the meat was done, he placed it before my comrades who ate and he with them; after which he brought a leather-bag full of wine and drank thereof and lay down prone and snored. Said I to myself, ‘He’s drowned in sleep: how shall I slay him?’ Then I bethought me of the spits and thrusting two of them into the fire, waited till they were as red-hot coals: whereupon I arose and girded myself and taking a spit in each hand went up to the accursed Ghul and thrust them into his eyes, pressing upon them with all my might. He sprang to his feet for sweet life and would have laid hold of me; but he was blind. So I fled from him into the inner cavern, whilst he ran after me; but I found no place of refuge from him nor whence I might escape into the open country, for the cave was stopped up with stones; wherefore I was bewildered and said to the blind men, ‘How shall I do with this accursed?’ Replied one of them, ‘O Sa’id, with a run and a spring mount up to yonder niche4 and thou wilt find there a sharpened scymitar of copper: bring it to me and I will tell thee what to do.’ So I clombed to the niche and taking the blade, returned to the blind man, who said to me, ‘Smite him with the sword in his middle, and he will die forthright.’ So I rushed after the Ghul, who was weary with running after me and felt for the blind men that he might kill them and, coming up to him smote him with the sword a single stroke across his waist and he fell in twain. then he screamed and cried out to me, ‘O man, an thou desire to slay me, strike me a second stroke.’ Accordingly, I was about to smite him another cut; but he who had directed me to the niche and the scymitar said, ‘Smite him not a second time, for then he will not die, but will live and destroy us.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Mac. and Bul. Edits. add, “and with him a host of others after his kind”; but these words are omitted by the Bresl. Edit. and apparently from the sequel there was only one Ghul-giant.
2 Probably alluding to the most barbarous Persian practice of plucking or tearing out the eyes from their sockets. See Sir John Malcolm’s description of the capture of Kirmán and Morier (in Zohrab, the hostage) for the wholesale blinding of the Asterabadian by the Eunuch–King Agha Mohammed Shah. I may note that the mediæval Italian practice called bacinare, or scorching with red-hot basins, came from Persia.
3 Arab. “Laban” as opposed to “Halíb”: in Night dcclxxiv. (infra p. 365) the former is used for sweet milk, and other passages could be cited. I have noted that all galaktophagi, or milk-drinking races, prefer the artificially soured to the sweet, choosing the fermentation to take place outside rather than inside their stomachs. Amongst the Somal I never saw man, woman or child drink a drop of fresh milk; and they offered considerable opposition to our heating it for coffee.
4 Arab. “Tákah” not “an aperture” as Lane has it, but an arched hollow in the wall.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sa’id continued, “Now when I struck the Ghul with the sword he cried out to me, ‘O man, an thou desire to slay me, strike me a second stroke!” I was about so to do when he who had directed me to the scymitar said, ‘Smite him not a second time, for then he will not die but will live and destroy us!’ So I held my hand as he bade me, and the Ghul died. Then said the blind man to me, ‘Open the mouth of the cave and let us fare forth; so haply Allah may help us and bring us to rest from this place.’ And I said, ‘No harm can come to us now; let us rather abide here and repose and eat of these sheep and drink of this wine, for long is the land.’ Accordingly we tarried there two months, eating of the sheep and of the fruits of the island and drinking the generous grape-juice till it so chanced one day, as we sat upon the beach, we caught sight of a ship looming large in the distance; so we made signs for the crew and holla’d to them. They feared to draw near, knowing that the island was inhabited by a Ghul1 who ate Adamites, and would have sheered off; but we ran down to the marge of the sea and made signs to them, with our turband-ends and shouted to them, whereupon one of the sailors, who was sharp of sight, said to the rest, “Harkye, comrades, I see these men formed lke ourselves, for they have not the fashion of Ghuls.’ So they made for us, little by little, till they drew near us in the dinghy2 and were certified that we were indeed human beings, when they saluted us and we returned their salam and gave them the glad tidings of the slaying of the accursed, wherefore they thanked us. Then we carried to the ship all that was in the cave of stuffs and sheep and treasure, together with a viaticum of the island-fruits, such as should serve us days and months, and embarking, sailed on with a fair breeze three days; at the end of which the wind veered round against us and the air became exceeding dark; nor had an hour passed before the wind drave the craft on to a rock, where it broke up and its planks were torn asunder.3 However, the Great God decreed that I should lay hold of one of the planks, which I bestrode, and it bore me along two days, for the wind had fallen fair again, and I paddled with my feet awhile, till Allah the Most High brought me safe ashore and I landed and came to this city, where I found myself a stranger, solitary, friendless, not knowing what to do; for hunger was sore upon me and I was in great tribulation. Thereupon I, O my brother, hid myself and pulling off this my tunic, carried it to the market, saying in my mind, ‘I will sell it and live on its price, till Allah accomplish to me whatso he will accomplish.’ Then I took the tunic in my hand and cried it for sale, and the folk were looking at it and bidding for it, when, O my brother, thou camest by and seeing me commandedst me to the palace; but thy pages arrested and thrust me into the prison and there I abode till thou bethoughtest thee of me and badst bring me before thee. So now I have told thee what befel me, and Alhamdolillah — Glorified be God — for reunion!” Much marvelled the two Kings at Sa’id’s tale and Taj al-Muluk having made ready a goodly dwelling for Sayf al-Muluk and his Wazir, Daulat Khatun used to visit the Prince there and thank him for his favours and talk with him. One day, he met her and said to her, “O my lady, where is the promise thou madest me, in the palace of Japhet son of Noah, saying, ‘Were I with my people, I would make shift to bring thee to thy desire?’” And Sa’id said to her, “O Princess, I crave thine aid to enable him to win his will.” Answered she, “Yea, verily; I will do my endeavour for him, that he may attain his aim, if it please Allah Almighty.” And she turned to Sayf al-Muluk and said to him, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear.” Then she rose and going in to her mother, said to her, “Come with me forthright and let us purify ourselves and make fumigations4 that Badi’a al-Jamal and her mother may come and see me and rejoice in me.” Answered the Queen, “With love and goodly gree;” and rising, betook herself to the garden and burnt off these perfumes which she always had by her; nor was it long before Badi’a al-Jamal and her mother made their appearance. The Queen of Hind foregathered with the other Queen and acquainted her with her daughter’s safe return, whereat she rejoiced; and rejoiced in each other. Then they pitched the pavilions5 and dressed dainty viands and made ready the place of entertainment; whilst the two Princesses withdrew to a tent apart and ate together and drank and made merry; after which they sat down to converse, and Badi’a al-Jamal said, “What hath befallen thee in thy strangerhood?” Replied Daulat Khatun, “O my sister how sad is severance and how gladsome is reunion; ask me not what hath befallen me! Oh, what hardships mortals suffer!” cried she, “How so?” and the other said to her, “O my sister, I was inmured in the High-builded Castle of Japhet son of Noah, whither the son of the Blue King carried me off, till Sayf al-Muluk slew the Jinni and brought me back to my sire;” and she told her to boot all that the Prince had undergone of hardships and horrors before he came to the Castle.6 Badi’a al-Jamal marvelled at her tale and said, “By Allah, O my sister, this is the most wondrous of wonders! This Sayf al-Muluk is indeed a man! But why did he leave his father and mother and betake himself to travel and expose himself to these perils?” Quoth Daulat Khatun, “I have a mind to tell thee the first part of his history; but shame of thee hindereth me therefrom.” Quoth Badi’a al-Jamal, “Why shouldst thou have shame of me, seeing that thou art my sister and my bosom-friend and there is muchel a matter between thee and me and I know thou willest me naught but well? Tell me then what thou hast to say and be not abashed at me and hide nothing from me and have no fear of consequences.” Answered Daulat Khatun, “By Allah, all the calamities that have betided this unfortunate have been on thine account and because of thee!” Asked Badi’a al-Jamal, “How so, O my sister?”; and the other answered, “Know that he saw thy portrait wrought on a tunic which thy father sent to Solomon son of David (on the twain be peace!) and he opened it not neither looked at it, but despatched it, with other presents and rarities to Asim bin Safwan, King of Egypt, who gave it, still unopened, to his son Sayf al-Muluk. The Prince unfolded the tunic, thinking to put it on, and seeing thy portrait, became enamoured of it; wherefore he came forth in quest of thee, and left his folk and reign and suffered all these terrors and hardships on thine account.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In Trébutien (ii. 168) the cannibal is called “Goul Eli–Fenioun” and Von Hammer remarks, “There is no need of such likeness of name to prove that al this episode is a manifest imitation of the adventures of Ulysses in Polyphemus’s cave; and this induces the belief that the Arabs have been acquainted with the poems of Homer.” Living intimately with the Greeks they could not have ignored the Iliad and the Odyssey: indeed we know by tradition that they had translations, now apparently lost. I cannot however, accept Lane’s conjecture that “the story of Ulysses and Polyphemus may have been of Eastern origin.” Possibly the myth came from Egypt, for I have shown that the opening of the Iliad bears a suspicious likeness to the proem of Pentaur’s Epic.
2 Arab. “Shakhtúr”.
3 In the Bresl. Edit. the ship ips not wrecked but lands Sa’id in safety.
4 So in the Shah-nameth the Símurgh-bird gives one of her feathers to her protégé Zál which he will throw into the fire when she is wanted.
5 Bresl. Edit. “Al–Zardakhánát” Arab. plur of Zarad–Khánah, a bastard word = armoury, from Arab. Zarad (hauberk) and Pers. Khánah = house etc.
6 Some retrenchment was here found necessary to avoid “damnable iteration.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Daulat Khatun related to Badi’a al-Jamal the first part of Sayf al-Muluk’s history; how his love for her was caused by the tunic whereon her presentment was wrought; how he went forth, passion-distraught, in quest of her; how he forsook his people and his kingdom for her sake and how he had suffered all these terrors and hardships on her account. When Badi’a al-Jamal hear this, she blushed rosy red and was confounded at Daulat Khatun and said, “Verily this may never, never be; for man accordeth not with the Jann.” Then Daulat Khatun went on to praise Sayf al-Muluk and extol his comeliness and courage and cavalarice, and ceased not repeating her memories of his prowess and his excellent qualities till she ended with saying, “For the sake of Almighty Allah and of me, O sister mine, come and speak with him, though but one word!” But Badi’a al-Jamal cried, “By Allah, O sister mine, this that thou sayest I will not hear, neither will I assent to thee therein;” and it was as if she heard naught of what the other said and as if no love of Sayf al-Muluk and his beauty and bearing and bravery had gotten hold upon her heart. Then Daulat Khatun humbled herself and said, “O Badi’a al-Jamal, by the milk we have sucked, I and thou, and by that which is graven on the seal-ring of Solomon (on whom be peace!) hearken to these my words for I pledged myself in the High-builded Castle of Japhet, to show him thy face. So Allah upon thee, show it to him once, for the love of me, and look thyself on him!” And she ceased not to weep and implore her and kiss her hands and feet, till she consented and said, “For thy sake I will show him my face once and he shall have a single glance.” With that Daulat Khatun’s heart was gladdened and she kissed her hands and feet. Then she went forth and fared to the great pavilion in the garden and bade her slave-women spread it with carpets and set up a couch of gold and place the wine-vessels in order; after which she went into Sayf al-Muluk and to his Wazir Sa’id, whom she found seated in their lodging, and gave the Prince the glad tidings of the winning of his wish, saying, “Go to the pavilion in the garden, thou and thy brother, and hide yourselves there from the eyes of men so none in the palace may espy you, till I come to you with Badi’a al-Jamal.” So they rose and repaired to the appointed pavilion, where they found the couch of gold set and furnished with cushions, and meat and wine ready served. So they sat awhile, whilst Sayf al-Muluk bethought him of his beloved and his breast was straitened and love and longing assailed him: wherefore he rose and walked forth from the vestibule of the pavilion. Sa’id would have followed him, but he said to him, “O my brother, follow me not, but sit in thy stead till I return to thee.” So Sa’id abode seated, whilst Sayf al-Muluk went down into the garden, drunken with the wine of desire and distracted for excess of love-longing and passion-fire: yearning agitated him and transport overcame him and he recited these couplets,
“O passing Fair1 I have none else but thee;
Pity this slave in thy love’s slavery!
Thou art my search, my joy and my desire!
None save thyself shall love this heart of me:
Would Heaven I knew thou knewest of my wails
Night-long and eyelids oped by memory.
Bid sleep to soourn on these eyen-lids
Haply in vision I thy sight shall see.
Show favour then to one thus love-distraught:
Save him from ruin by thy cruelty!
Allah increase thy beauty and thy weal;
And be thy ransom every enemy!
So shall on Doomsday lovers range beneath
Thy flag, and beauties ‘neath thy banner be.”
Then he wept and recited these also,
“That rarest beauty ever bides my foe
Who holds my heart and lurks in secresy:
Speaking, I speak of nothing save her charms
And when I’m dumb in heart-core woneth she.”
Then he wept sore and recited the following,
“And in my liver higher flames the fire;
You are my wish and longsome still I yearn:
To you (none other!) bend I and I hope
(Lovers long-suffering are!) your grace to earn;
And that you pity me whose frame by Love
Is waste and weak his heart with sore concern:
Relent, be gen’rous, tender-hearted, kind:
From you I’ll ne’er remove, from you ne’er turn!”
Then he wept and recited these also,
“Came to me care when came the love of thee,
Cruel sleep fled me like thy cruelty:
Tells me the messenger that thou are wroth:
Allah forfend what evils told me he!”
Presently Sa’id waxed weary of awaiting him and going forth in quest of him, found him walking in the garden, distraught and reciting these two couplets,
“By Allah, by th’ Almighty, by his right2
Who read the Koran–Chapter ‘Fátír3 hight;
Ne’er roam my glances o’er the charms I see;
Thy grace, rare beauty, is my talk by night.”
So he joined him and the twain walked about the garden together solacing themselves and ate of its fruits. Such was their case;4 but as regards the two Princesses, they came to the pavilion and entering therein after the eunuchs had richly furnished it, according to command, sat down on the couch of gold, beside which was a window that gave upon the garden. The castratos then set before them all manner rich meats and they ate, Daulat Khatun feeding her foster-sister by mouthfuls,5 till she was satisfied; when she called for divers kinds of sweetmeats, and when the neutrals brought them, they ate what they would of them and washed their hands. After this Daulat Khatun made ready wine and its service, setting on the ewers and bowls and she proceeded to crown the cups and give Badi’a al-amal to drink, filling for herself after and drinking in turn. The Badi’a al-Jamal looked from the window into the garden and gazed upon the fruits and branches that were therein, till her glance fell on Sayf al-Muluk, and she saw him wandering about the parterres, followed by Sa’id, and she heard him recite verses, raining the while railing tears. And that glance of eyes cost her a thousand signs — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. Badi’a al-Jamal.
2 Mohammed.
3 Koran xxxv. “The Creator” (Fátir) or the Angels, so called from the first verse.
4 In the Bresl. Edit. (p. 263) Sayf al-Muluk drops asleep under a tree to the lulling sound of a Sákiyah or water-wheel, and is seen by Badi’a al-Jamal, who falls in love with im and drops tears upon his cheeks, etc. The scene, containing much recitation, is long and well told.
5 Arab. “Lukmah” = a bouchée of bread, meat, fruit or pastry, and especially applied to the rice balled with the hand and delicately inserted into a friend’s mouth.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Badi’a al-Jamal caught sight of Sayf al-Muluk as he wandered about the garden, that glance of eyes cost her a thousand sighs, and she turned to Daulat Khatun and said to her (and indeed the wine sported with her senses), “O my sister, who is that young man I see in the garden, distraught, love-abying, disappointed, sighing?” Quoth the other, “Dost thou give me leave to bring him hither, that we may look on him?”; and quoth the other, “An thou can avail to bring him, bring him.” So Daulat Khatun called to him, saying “O King’s son, come up to us and bring us thy beauty and thy loveliness!” Sayf al-Muluk recognised her voice and came up to into the pavilion; but no sooner had he set eyes on Badi’a al-Jamal, than he fell down in a swoon; whereupon Daulat Khatun sprinkled on him a little rose-water and he revived. Then he rose and kissed ground before Badi’a al-Jamal who was amazed at his beauty and loveliness; and Daulat Khatun said to her, “Know, O Princess, that this is Sayf al-Muluk, whose hand saved me by the ordinance of Allah Almighty and he it is who hath borne all manner burthens on thine account: wherefore I would have thee look upon him with favour.” Hearing this Badi’a al-Jamal laughed and said, “And who keepeth faith, that this youth should do so? For there is no true love in men.” Cried Sayf al-Muluk, “O Princess, never shall lack of faith be in me, and all men are not created alike.” And he wept before her and recited these verses,
“O thou, Badi’a ‘l-Jamál, show thou some clemency
To one those lovely eyes opprest with witchery!
By rights of beauteous hues and tints thy cheeks combine
Of snowy white and glowing red anemone,
Punish not with disdain one who is sorely sick
By long, long parting waste hath waxed this frame of me:
This is my wish, my will, the end of my desire,
And Union is my hope an haply this may be!”
Then he wept with violent weeping; and love and longing got the mastery over him and he greeted her with these couplets,
“Peace be to you from lover’s wasted love,
All noble hearts to noble favour show:
Peace be to you! Ne’er fail your form my dreams;
Nor hall nor chamber the fair sight forego!
Of you I’m jealous: none may name your name:
Lovers to lovers aye should bend thee low:
So cut not off your grace from him who loves
While sickness wastes and sorrows overthrow.
I watch the flowery stars which frighten me;
While cark and care mine every night foreslow.
Nor Patience bides with me nor plan appears:
What shall I say when questioned of my foe?
God’s peace be with you in the hour of need,
Peace sent by lover patient bearing woe!”
Then for the excess of his desire and ecstasy he repeated these coupletes also,
“If I to aught save you, O lords of me, incline;
Ne’er may I win of you my wish, my sole design!
Who doth comprise all loveliness save only you?
Who makes the Doomsday dawn e’en now before these eyne?
Far be it Love find any rest, for I am one
Who lost for love of you this heart, these vitals mine.”
When he had made an end of his verses, he wept with sore weeping and she said to him, “O Prince, I fear to grant myself wholly to thee lest I find in thee nor fondness nor affection; for oftentimes man’s fidelity is small and his perfidy is great and thou knowest how the lord Solomon, son of David (on whom be the Peace!), took Bilkis to his love but, whenas he saw another fairer than she, turned from her thereto.” Sayf al-Muluk replied, “O my eye and O my soul, Allah hath not made all men alike, and I, Inshallah, will keep my troth and die beneath thy feet. Soon shalt thou see what I will do in accordance with my words, and for whatso I say Allah is my warrant.” Quoth Badi’a al-Jamal, “Sit and be of good heart and swear to me by the right of thy Faith and let us covenant together that each will not be false to other; and whichever of us breaketh faith may Almighty Allah punish!” At these words he sat down and set his hand in her hand and they sware each to other that neither of them would ever prefer to the other any one, either of man or of the Jann. Then they embraced for a whole hour and wept for excess of their joy, whilst passion overcame Sayf al-Muluk and he recited these couplets,
“I weep for longing love’s own ardency
To her who claims the heart and soul of me.
And sore’s my sorrow parted long from you,
And short’s my arm to reach the prize I see;
And mourning grief for what my patience marred
To blamer’s eye unveiled my secresy;
And waxed strait that whilome was so wide
Patience nor force remains nor power to dree.
Would Heaven I knew if God will ever deign to join
Our lives, and from our cark and care and grief set free!”
After this mutual troth-plighting, Sayf al-Muluk arose and walked in the garden and Badi’a al-Jamal arose also and went forth also afoot followed by a slave-girl bearing somewhat of food and a flask1 of wine. The Princess sat down and the damsel set the meat and wine before her: nor remained they long ere they were joined by Sayf al-Muluk, who was received with greeting and the two embraced and sat them down. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Saláhiyah,” also written Saráhiyah: it means an ewer-shaped glass-bottle.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that having provided food and wine, Badi’a al-Jamal met Sayf al-Muluk with greetings, and the twain having embraced and kissed sat them down awhile to eat and drink. Then said she to him, “O King’s son, thou must now go to the garden of Iram, where dwelleth my grandmother, and seek her consent to our marriage. My slave-girl Marjánah will convey thee thither and as thou farest therein thou wilt see a great pavilion of red satin, lined with green silk. Enter the pavilion heartening thyself and thou wilt see inside it an ancient dame sitting on a couch of red gold set with pearls and jewels. Salute her with respect and courtesy: then look at the foot of the couch, where thou wilt descry a pair of sandals1 of cloth interwoven with bars of gold, embroidered with jewels. Take them and kiss them and lay them on thy head2; then put them under thy right armpit and stand before the old woman, in silence and with thy head bowed down. If she ask thee, ‘Who art thou and how camest thou hither and who led thee to this land? And why hast thou taken up the sandals?’ make her no answer, but abide silent till Marjanah enter, when she will speak with her and seek to win her aproof for thee and cause her look on thee with consent; so haply Allah Almight may incline her heart to thee and she may grant thee thy wish.” Then she called the handmaid Marjanah hight and said to her, “As thou lovest me, do my errand this day and be not neglectful therein! An thou acccomplish it, thou shalt be a free woman for the sake of Allah Almighty, and I will deal honourably by thee with gifts and there shall be none dearer to me than thou, nor will I discover my secrets to any save thee. So, by my love for thee, fulfil this my need and be not slothful therein.” Replied Marjanah, “O my lady and light of mine eyes, tell me what is it thou requirest of me, that I may accomplish it with both mine eyes.” Badi’a rejoined, “Take this mortal on thy shoulders and bear him to the bloom-garden of Iram and the pavilion of my grandmother, my father’s mother, and be careful of his safety. When thou hast brought him into her presence and seest him take the slippers and do them homage, and hearest her ask him, saying, ‘Whence art thou and by what road art come and who led thee to this land, and why hast thou taken up the sandals and what is thy need that I give heed to it?’ do thou come forward in haste and salute her with the salam and say to her, ‘O my lady, I am she who brought him hither and he is the King’s son of Egypt.3 ’Tis he who went to the High-builded Castle and slew the son of the Blue King and delivered the Princess Daulat Khatun from the Castle of Japhet son of Noah and brought her back safe to her father: and I have brought him to thee, that he may give thee the glad tidings of her safety: so deign thou be gracious to him.’ Then do thou say to her, ‘Allah upon thee! is not this young man handsome, O my lady?’ She will reply, ‘Yes’; and do thou rejoin, ‘O my lady, indeed he is complete in honour and manhood and valour and he is lord and King of Egypt and compriseth all praiseworthy qualities.’ An she ask thee, ‘What is his need?’ do thou make answer, ‘My lady saluteth thee and saith to thee, how long shall she sit at home, a maid and unmarried? Indeed, the time is longsome upon her for she is as a magazine wherein wheat is heaped up.4 What then is thine intent in leaving her without a mate and why dost thou not marry her in thy lifetide and that of her mother, like other girls?’ If she say, ‘How shall we do to marry her? An she have any one in mind, let her tell us of him, and we will do her will as far as may be!” do thou make answer, ‘O my lady, thy daughter saith to thee, ‘Ye were minded aforetime to marry me to Solomon (on whom be peace!) and portrayed him my portrait on a tunic. But he had no lot in me; so he sent the tunic to the King of Egypt and he gave it to his son, who saw my portrait figured thereon and fell in love with me; wherefore he left his father and mother’s realm and turning away from the world and whatso is therein, went forth at a venture, a wanderer, love-distraught, and hath borne the utmost hardships and honours for my sake of me.’ Now thou seest his beauty and loveliness, and thy daughter’s heart is enamoured of him; so if ye have a mind to marry her, marry her to this young man and forbid her not from him for he is young and passing comely and King of Egypt, nor wilt thou find a goodlier than he; and if ye will not give her to him, she will slay herself and marry none neither man nor Jinn.’” “And,” continued Badi’a al-Jamal, “Look thou, O Marjanah, ma mie,5 how thou mayst do with my grandmother, to win her consent, and beguile her with soft words, so haply she may do my desire.” Quoth the damsel, “O my lady, upon my head and eyes will I serve thee and do what shall content thee.” Then she took Sayf al-Muluk on her shoulders and said to him, “O King’s son, shut thine eyes.” He did so and she flew up with him into the welkin; and after awhile she said to him, “O King’s son, open thine eyes.” He opened them and found himself in a garden, which was none other than the garden of Iram; and she showed him the pavilion and said, “O Sayf al-Muluk, enter therein!” Thereupon he pronounced the name of Allah Almighty and entering cast a look upon the garden, when he saw the old Queen sitting on the couch, attended by her waiting women. So he drew near her with courtesy and reverence and taking the sandals bussed them and did as Badi’a al-Jamal had enjoined him. Quoth the ancient dame, “Who art thou and what is thy country; whence comest thou and who brought thee hither and what may be thy wish? Wherefore dost thou take the sandals and kiss them and when didst thou ask of me a favour which I did not grant?” With this in came Marjanah6 and saluting her reverently and worshipfully, repeated to her what Badi’a al-Jamal had told her; which when the old Queen heard, she cried out at her and was wroth with her and said, “How shall there be accord between man and Jinn?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sarmújah,” of which Von Hammer remarks that the dictionaries ignore it; Dozy gives the forms Sarmúj, Sarmúz, and Sarmúzah and explains them by “espèce de guêtre, de sandale ou de mule, qu’on chausse par-dessus la botte.”
2 In token of profound submission.
3 Arab. “Misr” in Ibn Khaldún is a land whose people are settled and civilised hence “Namsur” = we settle; and “Amsár” = settled provinces. Al–Misrayn was the title of Basrah and Kufah the two military cantonments founded by Caliph Omar on the frontier of conquering Arabia and conquered Persia. Hence “Tamsír” = founding such posts, which were planted in Mesopotamia, Syria and Egypt. In these camps were stationed the veterans who had fought under Mohammed; but the spoils of the East soon changed them to splendid cities where luxury and learning fluorished side by side. Sprenger (Al–Mas’údi pp. 19, 177) compares them ecclesiastically with the primitive Christian Churches such as Jerusalem, Alexandria and Antioch. But the Moslems were animated with an ardent love of liberty and Kufah under Al–Hajjaj the masterful, lost 100,000 of her turbulent sons without the thirst for independence being quenched. This can hardly be said of the Early Christians who, with the exception of a few staunch-hearted martyrs, appear in history as pauvres diables and poules mouillées, ever oppressed by their own most ignorant and harmful fancy that the world was about to end.
4 i.e. Waiting to be sold and wasting away in single cursedness.
5 Arab. “Yá dádati”: dádat is an old servant-woman or slave, often applied to a nurse, like its congener the Pers. Dádá, the latter often pronounced Daddeh, as Daddeh Bazm-árá in the Kuisum-nameh (Atkinson’s “Customs of the Women of Persia,” London, 8vo, 1832).
6 Marjánah has been already explained. D’Herbelot derives from it the Romance name Morgante la Déconvenue, here confounding Morgana with Urganda; and Keltic scholars make Morgain = Mor Gwynn-the white maid (p. 10, Keightley’s Fairy Mythology, London, Whittaker, 1833).
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old Queen heard the handmaid’s words she was wroth with sore wrath because of her and cried, “How shall there be accord between man and Jinn?” But Safy al-Muluk replied, “Indeed, I will conform to thy will and be thy page and die in thy love and will keep with thee covenant and regard non but thee: so right soon shalt thou see my truth and lack of falsehood and the excellence of my manly dealing with thee, Inshallah!” The old woman pondered for a full hour with brow earthwards bent; after which she raised her head and said to him, “O thou beautiful youth, wilt thou indeed keep compact and covenant?” He replied, “Yes, by Him who raised the heavens and dispread the earth upon the waters, I will indeed keep faith and troth!” Thereupon quoth she, “I will win for thee thy wish, Inshallah! but for the present go thou into the garden and take thy pleasure therein and eat of its fruits, that have neither like in the world nor equal, whilst I send for my son Shahyal and confabulate with him of the matter. Nothing but good shall come of it, so Allah please, for he will not gainsay me nor disobey my commandment and I will marry thee with his daughter Badi’a al-Jamal. So be of good heart for she shall assuredly be thy wife, O Sayf al-Muluk.” The Prince thanked her for those words and kissing her hands and feet, went forth from her into the garden; whilst she turned to Marjanah and said to her, “Go seek my son Shahyal wherever he is and bring him to me.” So Maranah went out in quest of King Shahyal and found him and set him before his mother. On such wise fared it with them; but as regards Sayf al-Muluk, whilst he walked in the garden, lo and behold! five Jinn of the people of the Blue King espied him and said to one another, “Whence cometh yonder wight and who brought him hither? Haply ’tis he who slew the son and heir of our lord and master the Blue King;” presently adding, ‘But we will go about with him and question him and find out all from him.” So they walked gently and softly up to him, as he sat in a corner of the garden, and sitting down by him, said to him, “O beauteous youth, thou didst right well in slaying the son of the Blue King and delivering from him Daulat Khatun; for he was a treacherous hound and had tricked her, and had not Allah appointed thee to her, she had never won free; no, never! But how diddest thou slay him?” Sayf al-Muluk looked at them and deeming them of the gardenfolk, answered, “I slew him by means of this ring which is on my finger.” Therewith they were assured that it was he who had slain him; so they seized him, two of them holding his hands, whilst other two held his feet and the fifth his mouth, lest he should cry out and King Shahyal’s people should hear him and rescue him from their hands. Then they lifted him up and flying away with him ceased not their flight till they came to their King and set him down before him, saying, “O King of the Age, we bring thee the murderer of thy son.” “Where is he?” asked the King and they answered, “This is he.” So the Blue King said to Sayf al-Muluk, “How slewest thou my son, the core of my heart and the light of my sight, without aught of right, for all he had done thee no ill deed?” Quoth the Prince, “Yea, verily! I slew him because of his violence and frowardness, in that he used to seize Kings’ daughters and sever them from their families and carry them to the Ruined Well and the High-builded Castle of Japhet son of Noah and entreat them lewdly by debauching them. I slew him by means of this ring on my finger, and Allah hurried his soul to the fire and the abiding-place dire.” Therewithal the King was assured that this was indeed he who slew his son; so presently he called his Wazirs and said to them, “This is the murtherer of my son sans shadow of doubt: so how do you counsel me to deal with him? Shall I slay him with the foulest slaughter or torture him with the terriblest torments or how?” Quoth the Chief Minister, “Cut off his limbs, one a day.” Another, “Beat him with a grievous beating every day till he die.” A third, “Cut him across the middle.” A fourth, “Chop off all his fingers and burn him with fire.” A fifth, “Crucify him;” and so on, each speaking according to his rede. Now there was with the Blue King an old Emir, versed in the vicissitudes and experienced in the exchanges of the times, and he said, “O King of the Age, verily I would say to thee somewhat, and thine is the rede whether thou wilt hearken or not to my say.” Now he was the King’s privy Councillor and the Chief Officer of his empire, and the Sovran was wont to give ear to his word and conduct himself by his counsel and gainsay him not in aught. So he rose and kissing ground before his liege lord, said to him, “O King of the Age, if I advise thee in this matter, wilt thou follow my advice and grant me indemnity?” Quoth the King, “Set forth thine opinion, and thou shalt have immunity.” Then quoth he, “O King of the Age, an thou slay this one nor accept my advice nor hearken to my word, in very sooth I say that his death were now inexpedient, for that he his thy prisoner and in thy power, and under thy protection; so whenas thou wilt, thou mayst lay hand on him and do with him what thou desirest. Have patience, then, O King of the Age, for he hath entered the garden of Iram and is become the betrothed of Badi’a al-Jamal, daughter of King Shahyal, and one of them. Thy people seized him there and brought him hither and he did not hide his case from them or from thee. So an thou slay him, assuredly King Shahyal will seek blood-revenge and lead his host against thee for his daughter’s sake, and thou canst not cope with him nor make head against his power.” So the King hearkened to his counsel and commanded to imprison the captive. Thus fared it with Sayf al-Muluk; but as regards the old Queen, grandmother of Badi’a al-Jamal, when her son Shahyal came to her she despatched Marjanah in search of Sayf al-Muluk; but she found him not and returning to her mistress, said, “I found him not in the garden.” So the ancient dame sent for the gardeners and questioned them of the Prince. Quoth they, “We saw him sitting under a tree when behold, five of the Blue King’s folk alighted by him and spoke with him, after which they took him up and having gagged him flew away with him.” When the old Queen heard the damsel’s words it was no light matter to her and she was wroth with exceeding wrath: so she rose to her feet and said to her son, King Shahyal, “Thou art a King and shall the Blue King’s people come to our garden and carry off our guests unhindered, and thou alive?” And she proceeded to provoke him, saying, “It behoveth not that any transgress against us during thy lifetime.”1 Answered he, “O mother of me, this man slew the Blue King’s son, who was a Jinni and Allah threw him into his hand. He is a Jinni and I am a Jinni: how then shall I go to him and make war on him for the sake of a mortal?” But she rejoined, “Go to him and demand our guest of him, and if he be still alive and the Blue King deliver him to thee, take him and return; but an he have slain him, take the King and all his children and Harim and household depending on him; then bring them to me alive that I may cut their throats with my own hand and lay in ruins his reign. Except thou go to him and do my bidding, I will not acquit thee of my milk and my rearing of thee shall be counted unlawful.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Ironicè; we are safe as long as we are defended by such a brave.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the grandmother of Badi’a al-Jamal said to Shahyal, “Fare thee to the Blue King and look after Sayf al-Muluk: if he be still in life come with him hither; but an he have slain him take that King and all his children and Harim and the whole of his dependents an protégés and bring them here alive that I may cut their throats with my own hand and ruin his realm. Except thou go to him and do my bidding, I will not acquit thee of my milk and my rearing of thee shall be accounted unlawful.” Thereupon Shahyal rose and assembling his troops, set out, in deference to his mother, desiring to content her and her friends, and in accordance with whatso had been fore-ordained from eternity without beginning; nor did they leave journeying till they came to the land of the Blue King, who met them with his army and gave them battle. The Blue King’s host was put to the rout and the conquerors having taken him and all his sons, great and small, and Grandees and officers bound and brought them before King Shahyal, who said to the captive, “O Azrak,1 where is the mortal Sayf al-Muluk who whilome was my guest?” Answered the Blue King, “O Shahyal, thou art a Jinni and I am a Jinni and is’t on account of a mortal who slew my son that thou hast done this deed; yea, the murtherer of my son, the core of my liver and solace of my soul. How couldest thou work such work and spill the blood of so many thousand Jinn?” He replied, “Leave this talk! Knowest thou not that a single mortal is better, in Allah’s sight, than a thousand Jinn?2 If he be alive, bring him to me, and I will set thee free and all whom I have taken of thy sons and people; but an thou have slain him, I will slaughter thee and thy sons.” Quoth the Malik al-Azrak, “O King, is this man of more account with thee than my son?”; and quoth Shahyal, “Verily, thy son was an evildoer who kidnapped Kings’ daughters and shut them up in the Ruined Well and the High-builded Castle of Japhet son of Noah and entreated them lewdly.” Then said the Blue King, “He is with me; but make thy peace between us.” So he delivered the Prince to Shahyal, who made peace between him and the Blue King, and Al–Azrak gave him a bond of absolution for the death of his son. Then Shahyal conferred robes of honour on them and entertained the Blue King and his troops hospitably for three days, after which he took Sayf al-Muluk and carried him back to the old Queen, his own mother, who rejoiced in him with an exceeding joy, and Shahyal marvelled at the beauty of the Prince and his loveliness and his perfection. Then the Prince related to him his story from beginning to end, especially what did befal him with Badi’a al-Jamal and Shahyal said, “O my mother, since ’tis thy pleasure that this should be, I hear and I obey all that to command it pleaseth thee; wherefore do thou take him and bear him to Sarandib and there celebrate his wedding and marry him to her in all state, for he is a goodly youth and hath endured horrors for her sake.” So she and her maidens set out with Sayf al-Muluk for Sarandib and, entering the Garden belonging to the Queen of Hind, foregathered with Daulat Khatun and Badi’a al-Jamal. Then the lovers met, and the old Queen acquainted the two Princesses with all that had passed between Sayf al-Muluk and the Blue King and how the Prince had been nearhand to a captive’s death; but in repetition is no fruition. Then King Taj al-Muluk father of Daulat Khatun assembled the lords of his land and drew up the contract of marriage between Sayf al-Muluk and Badi’a al-Jamal; and he conferred costly robes of honour and gave banquets to the lieges. Then Sayf al-Muluk rose and, kissing ground before the King, said to him, “O King, pardon! I would fain ask of thee somewhat but I fear lest thou refuse it to my disappointment.” Taj al-Muluk replied, “By Allah, though thou soughtest my soul of me, I would not refuse it to thee, after all the kindness thou hast done me!” Quoth Sayf al-Muluk, “I wish thee to marry the Princess Daulat Khatun to my brother Sa’id, and we will both be thy pages.” “I hear and obey,” answered Taj al-Muluk, and assembling his Grandees a second time, let draw up the contract of marriage between his daughter and Sa’id; after which they scattered gold and silver and the King bade decorate the city. So they held high festival and Sayf al-Muluk went in unto Badi’a al-Jamal and Sa’id went in unto Daulat Khatun on the same night. Moreover Sayf al-Muluk abode forty days with Badi’a al-Jamal, at the end of which she said to him, “O King’s son, say me, is there left in thy heart any regret for aught?” And he replied, “Allah forfend! I have accomplished my quest and there abideth no regret in my heart at all: but I would fain meet my father and my mother in the land of Egypt and see if they continue in welfare or not.” So she commanded a company of her slaves to convey them to Egypt, and they carried them to Cairo, where Sayf al-Muluk and Sa’id foregathered with their parents and abode with them a week; after which they took leave of them and returned to Sarandib-city; and from this time forwards, whenever they longed for their folk, they used to go to them and return. Then Sayf al-Muluk and Badi’a al-Jamal abode in all solace of life and its joyance as did Sa’id and Daulat Khatun, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and Severer of societies; and they all died good Moslems. So glory be to the Living One who dieth not, who createth all creatures and decreeth to them death and who is the First, without beginning, and the Last, without end! This is all that hath come down to us of the story of Sayf al-Muluk and Badi’a al-Jamal. And Allah alone wotteth the truth.3 But not less excellent than this tale is the History of
1 Blue, azure. This is hardly the place for a protest, but I must not neglect the opportunity of cautioning my readers against rendering Bahr al-Azrak (“Blue River”) by “Blue Nile.” No Arab ever knew it by that name or thereby equalled it with the White Nile. The term was a pure invention of Abyssinian Bruce who was well aware of the unfact he was propagating, but his inordinate vanity and self-esteem, contrasting so curiously with many noble qualities, especially courage and self-reliance, tempted him to this and many other a traveller’s tale.
2 This is orthodox Moslem doctrine and it does something for the dignity of human nature which has been so unwisely depreciated and degraded by Christianity. The contrast of Moslem dignity and Christian abasement in the East is patent to every unblind traveller.
3 Here ends vol. iii. of the Mac. Edit.
There was once of days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, a merchant, who dwelt in the land of Bassorah and who owned two sons and wealth galore. But in due time Allah, the All-hearing the All-knowing, decreed that he should be admitted to the mercy of the Most High; so he died, and his two sons laid him out and buried him, after which they divided his gardens and estates equally between them and of his portion each one opened a shop.2 Presently the elder son, Hasan hight, a youth of passing beauty and loveliness, symmetry and perfect grace, betook himself to the company of lewd folk, women and low boys, frolicking with them in gardens and feasting them with meat and wine for months together and occupying himself not with his business like as his father had done, for that he exulted in the abundance of his good. After some time he had wasted all his ready money, so he sold all his father’s lands and houses and played the wastrel until there remained in his hand nothing, neither little nor muchel, nor was one of his comrades left who knew him. He abode thus anhungred, he and his widowed mother, three days, and on the fourth day, as he walked along, unknowing whither to wend, there met him a man of his father’s friends, who questioned him of his case. He told him what had befallen him and the other said, “O my son, I have a brother who is a goldsmith; an thou wilt, thou shalt be with him and learn his craft and become skilled therein.” Hasan consented and accompanied him to his brother, to whom he commended him, saying, “In very sooth this is my son; do thou teach him for my sake.” So Hasan abode with the goldsmith and busied himself with the craft; and Allah opened to him the door of gain and in due course he set up shop for himself. One day, as he sat in his booth in the bazar, there came up to him an Ajamí, a foreigner, a Persian, with a great white beard and a white turband3 on his head, having the semblance of a merchant who, after saluting him, looked at his handiwork and examined it knowingly. It pleased him and he shook his head, saying, “By Allah, thou art a cunning goldsmith! What may be thy name?” “Hasan,” replied the other, shortly.4 The Persian continued to look at his wares, whilst Hasan read in an old book5 he hent in hand and the folk were taken up with his beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace, till the hour of midafternoon prayer, when the shop became clear of people and the Persian accosted the young man, saying, “O my son, thou art a comely youth! What book is that? Thou hast no sire and I have no son, and I know an art, than which there is no goodlier in the world.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This famous tale is a sister prose-poem to the “Arabian Odyssey” Sindbad the Seaman; only the Bassorite’s travels are in Jinn-land and Japan. It has points of resemblance in “fundamental outline” with the Persian Romance of the Fairy Hasan Bánú and King Bahrám-i-Gúr. See also the Kathá (s.s.) and the two sons of the Asúra Máyá; the Tartar “Sidhi Kúr” (Tales of a Vampire or Enchanted Corpse) translated by Mr. W. J. Thoms (the Father of “Folk-lore” in 1846,) in “Lays and Legends of various Nations”; the Persian Bahár-i-Dánish (Prime of Lore). Miss Stokes’ “Indian Fairy Tales”; Miss Frere’s “Old Deccan Days” and Mrs. F. A. Steel’s “Tale of the King and his Seven Sons,” with notes by Lieutenant (now Captain) R. C. Temple (Folk-lore of the Panjab, Indian Antiquary of March, 1882).
2 In the Mac. Edit. (vol. iv. i.) the merchant has two sons who became one a brazier (“dealer in copper-wares” says Lane iii. 385) and the other a goldsmith. The Bresl. Edit. (v. 264) mentions only one son, Hasan, the hero of the story which is entitled, “Tale of Hasan al-Basrí and the Isles of Wák Wák.”
3 Arab. “Shásh Abyaz:” this distinctive sign of the True Believer was adopted by the Persian to conceal his being a fire-worshipper, Magian or “Guebre.” The latter word was introduced from the French by Lord Byron and it is certainly far superior to Moore’s “Gheber.”
4 Persians being always a suspected folk.
5 Arab. “Al-Búdikah” afterwards used (Night dcclxxix) in the sense of crucible or melting-pot, in modern parlance a pipe-bowl; and also written “Bútakah,” an Arab distortion of the Persian “Bútah.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Persian accosted the young man saying, “O my son, thou art a comely youth! Thou hast no sire and I have no son, and I know an art than which there is no goodlier in the world. Many have sought of me instruction therein, but I consented not to instruct any of them in it; yet hath my soul consented that I teach it to thee, for thy love hath gotten hold upon my heart and I will make thee my son and set up between thee and poverty a barrier, so shalt thou be quit of this handicraft and toil no more with hammer and anvil,1 charcoal and fire.” Hasan asked, “O my lord and when wilt thou teach me this?”; and the Persian answered, “To-morrow, Inshallah, I will come to thee betimes and make thee in thy presence fine gold of this copper.” Whereupon Hasan rejoiced and sat talking with the Persian till nightfall, when he took leave of him and going in to his mother, saluted her with the salam and ate with her; but he was dazed, without memory or reason, for that the stranger’s words had gotten hold upon his heart. So she questioned him and he told her what had passed between himself and the Persian, which when she heard, her heart fluttered and she strained him to her bosom, saying, “O my son, beware of hearkening to the talk of the folk, and especially of the Persians, and obey them not in aught; for they are sharpers and tricksters, who profess the art of alchemy2 and swindle people and take their money and devour it in vain.” Replied Hasan, “O my mother, we are paupers and have nothing he may covet, that he should put a cheat on us. Indeed, this Persian is a right worthy Shaykh and the signs of virtue are manifest on him; Allah hath inclined his heart to me and he hath adopted me to son.” She was silent in her chagrin, and he passed the night without sleep, his heart being full of what the Persian had said to him; nor did slumber visit him for the excess of his joy therein. But when morning morrowed, he rose and taking the keys, opened the shop, whereupon behold, the Persian accosted him. Hasan stood up to him and would have kissed his hands; but he forbade him from this and suffered it not, saying, “O Hasan, set on the crucible and apply the bellows.”3 So he did as the stranger bade him and lighted the charcoal. Then said the Persian, “O my son, hast thou any copper?” and he replied, “I have a broken platter.” So he bade him work the shears4 and cut it into bittocks and cast it into the crucible and blow up the fire with the bellows, till the copper became liquid, when he put hand to turband and took therefrom a folded paper and opening it, sprinkled thereout into the pot about half a drachm of somewhat like yellow Kohl or eyepowder.5 Then he bade Hasan blow upon it with the bellows, and he did so, till the contents of the crucible became a lump of gold.6 When the youth saw this, he was stupefied and at his wits’ end for the joy he felt and taking the ingot from the crucible handled it and tried it with the file and found it pure gold of the finest quality: whereupon his reason fled and he was dazed with excess of delight and bent over the Persian’s hand to kiss it. But he forbade him, saying, “Art thou married?” and when the youth replied “No!” he said, “Carry this ingot to the market and sell it and take the price in haste and speak not.” So Hasan went down into the market and gave the bar to the broker, who took it and rubbed it upon the touchstone and found it pure gold. So they opened the biddings at ten thousand dirhams and the merchants bid against one another for it up to fifteen thousand dirhams,7 at which price he sold it and taking the money, went home and told his mother all that had passed, saying, “O my mother, I have learnt this art and mystery.” But she laughed at him, saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Sindán” or “Sindiyán” (Dozy). “Sandán,” anvil; “Sindán,” big, strong (Steingass).
2 Arab. “Kímíya,” (see vol. i. 305) properly the substance which transmutes metals, the “philosopher’s stone” which, by the by, is not a stone; and comes from, a fluid, a wet drug, as opposed to Iksír (Al-) a dry drug. Those who care to see how it is still studied will consult my History of Sindh (chapt. vii) and my experience which pointed only to the use made of it in base coinage. Hence in mod. tongue Kímiyáwi, an alchemist, means a coiner, a smasher. The reader must not suppose that the transmutation of metals is a dead study: I calculate that there are about one hundred workers in London alone.
3 Arab. “Al-Kír,” a bellows also = Kúr, a furnace. For the full meaning of this sentence, see my “Book of the Sword,” p. 119.
4 Lit. “bade him lean upon it with the shears” (Al-Káz).
5 There are many kinds of Kohls (Hindos. Surmá and Kajjal) used in medicine and magic. See Herklots, p. 227.
6 Arab. “Sabíkah” = bar, lamina, from “Sabk” = melting, smelting: the lump in the crucible would be hammered out into an ingot in order to conceal the operation
7 i.e. £375.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan the goldsmith told his mother what he had done with the Ajami and cried, “I have learnt this art and mystery,” she laughed at him, saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”; and she was silent for vexation. Then of his ignorance, he took a metal mortar and returning to the shop, laid it before the Persian, who was still sitting there and asked him, “O my son, what wilt thou do with this mortar?” Hasan answered, “Let us put it in the fire, and make of it lumps of gold.” The Persian laughed and rejoined, “O my son, art thou Jinn-mad that thou wouldst go down into the market with two ingots of gold in one day? Knowest thou not that the folk would suspect us and our lives would be lost? Now, O my son, an I teach thee this craft, thou must practise it but once in each twelvemonth; for that will suffice thee from year to year.” Cried Hasan, “True, O my lord,” and sitting down in his open shop, set on the crucible and cast more charcoal on the fire. Quoth the Persian, “What wilt thou, O my son?”; and quoth Hasan, “Teach me this craft.” “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” exclaimed the Persian, laughing; “Verily, O my son, thou art little of wit and in nowise fitted for this noble craft. Did ever any during all his life learn this art on the beaten way or in the bazars? If we busy ourselves with it here, the folk will say of us, These practise alchemy; and the magistrates will hear of us, and we shall lose our lives.1 Wherefore, O my son, an thou desire to learn this mystery forthright, come thou with me to my house.” So Hasan barred his shop and went with that Ajamí; but by the way he remembered his mother’s words and thinking in himself a thousand thoughts he stood still, with bowed head. The Persian turned and seeing him thus standing laughed and said to him, “Art thou mad? What! I in my heart purpose thee good and thou misdoubtest I will harm thee!” presently adding, “But, if thou fear to go with me to my house, I will go with thee to thine and teach thee there.” Hasan replied, “’Tis well, O uncle,” and the Persian rejoined, “Go thou before me.” So Hasan led the way to his own house, and entering, told his mother of the Persian’s coming, for he had left him standing at the door. She ordered the house for them and when she had made an end of furnishing and adorning it, her son bade her go to one of the neighbours’ lodgings. So she left her home to them and wended her way, whereupon Hasan brought in the Persian, who entered after asking leave. Then he took in hand a dish and going to the market, returned with food, which he set before the Persian, saying, “Eat, O my lord, that between us there may be bread and salt and may Almighty Allah do vengeance upon the traitor to bread and salt!” The Persian replied with a smile, “True, O my son! Who knoweth the virtue and worth of bread and salt?”2 Then he came forward and ate with Hasan, till they were satisfied; after which the Ajami said, “O my son Hasan, bring us somewhat of sweetmeats.” So Hasan went to the market, rejoicing in his words, and returned with ten saucers3 of sweetmeats, of which they both ate and the Persian said, “May Allah abundantly requite thee, O my son! It is the like of thee with whom folk company and to whom they discover their secrets and teach what may profit him!”4 Then said he, “O Hasan bring the gear.” But hardly did Hasan hear these words than he went forth like a colt let out to grass in spring-tide, and hastening to the shop, fetched the apparatus and set it before the Persian, who pulled out a piece of paper and said, “O Hasan, by the bond of bread and salt, wert thou not dearer to me than my son, I would not let thee into the mysteries of this art, for I have none of the Elixir5 left save what is in this paper; but by and by I will compound the simples whereof it is composed and will make it before thee. Know, O my son Hasan, that to every ten pounds of copper thou must set half a drachm of that which is in this paper, and the whole ten will presently become unalloyed virgin gold;” presently adding, “O my son, O Hasan, there are in this paper three ounces,6 Egyptian measure, and when it is spent, I will make thee other and more.” Hasan took the packet and finding therein a yellow powder, finer than the first, said to the Persian, “O my lord, what is the name of this substance and where is it found and how is it made?” But he laughed, longing to get hold of the youth, and replied, “Of what dost thou question? Indeed thou art a froward boy! Do thy work and hold thy peace.” So Hasan arose and fetching a brass platter from the house, shore it in shreds and threw it into the melting-pot; then he scattered on it a little of the powder from the paper and it became a lump of pure gold. When he saw this, he joyed with exceeding joy and was filled with amazement and could think of nothing save the gold; but, whilst he was occupied with taking up the lumps of metal from the melting-pot, the Persian pulled out of his turband in haste a packet of Cretan Bhang, which if an elephant smelt, he would sleep from night to night, and cutting off a little thereof, put it in a piece of the sweetmeat. Then said he, “O Hasan, thou art become my very son and dearer to me than soul and wealth, and I have a daughter whose like never have eyes beheld for beauty and loveliness, symmetry and perfect grace. Now I see that thou befittest none but her and she none but thee; wherefore, if it be Allah’s will, I will marry thee to her.” Replied Hasan, “I am thy servant and whatso good thou dost with me will be a deposit with the Almighty!” and the Persian rejoined, “O my son, have fair patience and fair shall betide thee.” Therewith he gave him the piece of sweetmeat and he took it and kissing his hand, put it in his mouth, knowing not what was hidden for him in the after time for only the Lord of Futurity knoweth the Future. But hardly had he swallowed it, when he fell down, head foregoing heels, and was lost to the world; whereupon the Persian, seeing him in such calamitous case, rejoiced exceedingly and cried, “Thou hast fallen into my snares, O gallows-carrion, O dog of the Arabs! This many a year have I sought thee and now I have found thee, O Hasan!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Such report has cost many a life: the suspicion was and is still deadly as heresy in a “new Christian” under the Inquisition.
2 Here there is a double entendre: openly it means, “Few men recognise as they should the bond of bread and salt:” the other sense would be (and that accounts for the smile), “What the deuce do I care for the bond?”
3 Arab. “Kabbát” in the Bresl. Edit. “Ka’abán “: Lane (iii. 519) reads “Ka’áb plur. of Ka’ab a cup.”
4 A most palpable sneer. But Hasan is purposely represented as a “softy” till aroused and energized by the magic of Love.
5 Arab. “Al-iksír” (see Night dcclxxix, supra p. 9): the Greek word which has returned from a trip to Arabia and reappeared in Europe as “Elixir.”
6 “Awák” plur. of “Ukíyah,” the well-known “oke,” or “ocque,” a weight varying from 1 to 2 lbs. In Morocco it is pronounced “Wukíyah,” and = the Spanish ounce (p. 279 Rudimentos del Arabe Vulgar, etc., by Fr. José de Lorchundi, Madrid, Rivadencyra, 1872).
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan the goldsmith ate the bit of sweetmeat given to him by the Ajami and fell fainting to the ground, the Persian rejoiced exceedingly and cried, “This many a year have I sought thee and now I have found thee!” Then he girt himself and pinioned Hasan’s arms and binding his feet to his hands laid him in a chest, which he emptied to that end and locked it upon him. Moreover, he cleared another chest and laying therein all Hasan’s valuables, together with the piece of the first gold-lump and the second ingot which he had made locked it with a padlock. Then he ran to the market and fetching a porter, took up the two chests and made off with them to a place within sight of the city, where he set them down on the sea-shore, hard by a vessel at anchor there. Now this craft had been freighted and fitted out by the Persian and her master was awaiting him; so, when the crew saw him, they came to him and bore the two chests on board. Then the Persian called out to the Rais or Captain, saying, “Up and let us be off, for I have done my desire and won my wish.” So the skipper sang out to the sailors, saying, “Weigh anchor and set sail!” And the ship put out to sea with a fair wind. So far concerning the Persian; but as regards Hasan’s mother, she awaited him till supper-time but heard neither sound nor news of him; so she went to the house and finding it thrown open, entered and saw none therein and missed the two chests and their valuables; wherefore she knew that her son was lost and that doom had overtaken him; and she buffeted her face and rent her raiment crying out and wailing and saying, “Alas, my son, ah! Alas, the fruit of my vitals, ah!” And she recited these couplets,
“My patience fails me and grows anxiety;
And with your absence growth of grief I see.
By Allah, Patience went what time ye went!
Loss of all Hope how suffer patiently?
When lost my loved one how can’ joy I sleep?
Who shall enjoy such life of low degree?
Thou ‘rt gone and, desolating house and home,
Hast fouled the fount erst flowed from foulness free:
Thou wast my fame, my grace ’mid folk, my stay;
Mine aid wast thou in all adversity!
Perish the day, when from mine eyes they bore
My friend, till sight I thy return to me!”
And she ceased not to weep and wail till the dawn, when the neighbours came in to her and asked her of her son, and she told them what had befallen him with the Persian, assured that she should never, never see him again. Then she went round about the house, weeping, and wending she espied two lines written upon the wall; so she sent for a scholar, who read them to her; and they were these,
“Leyla’s phantom came by night, when drowsiness had overcome me, towards morning while my companions were sleeping in the desert,
But when we awoke to behold the nightly phantom, I saw the air vacant and the place of visitation was distant.”1
When Hasan’s mother heard these lines, she shrieked and said, “Yes, O my son! Indeed, the house is desolate and the visitation-place is distant!” Then the neighbours took leave of her and after they had prayed that she might be vouchsafed patience and speedy reunion with her son, went away; but she ceased not to weep all watches of the night and tides of the day and she built amiddlemost the house a tomb whereon she let write Hasan’s name and the date of his loss, and thenceforward she quitted it not, but made a habit of incessantly biding thereby night and day. Such was her case; but touching her son Hasan and the Ajami, this Persian was a Magian, who hated Moslems with exceeding hatred and destroyed all who fell into his power. He was a lewd and filthy villain, a hankerer after alchemy, an astrologer and a hunter of hidden hoards, such an one as he of whom quoth the poet,
“A dog, dog-fathered, by dog-grandsire bred;
No good in dog from dog race issued:
E’en for a gnat no resting-place gives he
Who is composed of
seed by all men shed.”2
The name of this accursed was Bahrám the Guebre, and he was wont, every year, to take a Moslem and cut his throat for his own purposes. So, when he had carried out his plot against Hasan the goldsmith, they sailed on from dawn till dark, when the ship made fast to the shore for the night, and at sunrise, when they set sail again, Bahram bade his black slaves and white servants bring him the chest wherein were Hasan. They did so, and he opened it and taking out the young man, made him sniff up vinegar and blew a powder into his nostrils. Hasan sneezed and vomited the Bhang; then, opening his eyes, he looked about him right and left and found himself amiddleward the sea on aboard a ship in full sail, and saw the Persian sitting by him; wherefore he knew that the accursed Magian had put a cheat on him and that he had fallen into the very peril against which his mother had warned him. So he spake the saying which shall never shame the sayer, to wit, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verity, we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning! O my God, be Thou gracious to me in Thine appointment and give me patience to endure this Thine affliction, O Lord of the three Worlds!” Then he turned to the Persian and bespoke him softly, saying, “O my father, what fashion is this and where is the covenant of bread and salt and the oath thou swarest to me?”3 But Bahram stared at him and replied, “O dog, knoweth the like of me bond of bread and salt? I have slain of youths like thee a thousand, save one, and thou shalt make up the thousand.” And he cried out at him and Hasan was silent, knowing that the Fate-shaft had shot him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These lines have occurred in vol. iv. 267, where references to other places are given. I quote Lane by way of variety. In the text they are supposed to have been written by the Persian, a hint that Hasan would never be seen again.
2 i.e. a superfetation of iniquity.
3 Arab. “Kurbán” = offering, oblation to be brought to the priest’s house or to the altar of the tribal God Yahveh, Jehovah (Levit. ii, 2–3 etc.). Amongst the Maronites Kurban is the host (-wafer) and amongst the Turks ‘Id al-Kurban (sacrifice-feast) is the Greater Bayram, the time of Pilgrimage.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan beheld himself fallen into the hands of the damned Persian he bespoke him softly but gained naught thereby for the Ajami cried out at him in wrath, so he was silent, knowing that the Fate-shaft had shot him. Then the accursed bade loose his pinion-bonds and they gave him a little water to drink, whilst the Magian laughed and said, “By the virtue of the Fire and the Light and the Shade and the Heat, methought not thou wouldst fall into my nets! But the Fire empowered me over thee and helped me to lay hold upon thee, that I might win my wish and return and make thee a sacrifice, to her1 so she may accept of me.” Quoth Hasan, “Thou hast foully betrayed bread and salt”; whereupon the Magus raised his hand and dealt him such a buffet that he fell and, biting the deck with his fore-teeth, swooned away, whilst the tears trickled down his cheeks. Then the Guebre bade his servants light him a fire and Hasan said, “What wilt thou do with it?” Replied the Magian, “This is the Fire, lady of light and sparkles bright! This it is I worship, and if thou wilt worship her even as I, verily I will give thee half my monies and marry thee to my maiden daughter.” Thereupon Hasan cried angrily at him, “Woe to thee! Thou art a miscreant Magian who to Fire dost pray in lieu of the King of Omnipotent sway, Creator of Night and Day; and this is naught but a calamity among creeds!” At this the Magian was wroth and said to him, “Wilt thou not then conform with me, O dog of the Arabs, and enter my faith?” But Hasan consented not to this: so the accursed Guebre arose and prostrating himself to the fire, bade his pages throw him flat on his face. They did so, and he beat him with a hide whip of plaited thongs2 till his flanks were laid open, whilst he cried aloud for aid but none aided him, and besought protection, but none protected him. Then he raised his eyes to the All-powerful King and sought of Him succour in the name of the Chosen Prophet. And indeed patience failed him; his tears ran down his cheeks, like rain, and he repeated these couplets twain,
“In patience, O my God, Thy doom forecast
I’ll bear, an thereby come Thy grace at last:
They’ve dealt us wrong, transgressed and ordered ill;
Haply Thy Grace shall pardon what is past.”
Then the Magian bade his negro-slaves raise him to a sitting posture and bring him somewhat of meat and drink. So they sat food before him; but he consented not to eat or drink; and Bahram ceased not to torment him day and night during the whole voyage, whilst Hasan took patience and humbled himself in supplication before Almighty Allah to whom belong Honour and Glory; whereby the Guebre’s heart was hardened against him. They ceased not to sail the sea three months, during which time Hasan was continually tortured till Allah Almighty sent forth upon them a foul wind and the sea grew black and rose against the ship, by reason of the fierce gale; whereupon quoth the captain and crew,3 “By Allah, this is all on account of yonder youth, who hath been these three months in torture with this Magian. Indeed, this is not allowed of God the Most High.” Then they rose against the Magian and slew his servants and all who were with him; which when he saw, he made sure of death and feared for himself. So he loosed Hasan from his bonds and pulling off the ragged clothes the youth had on, clad him in others; and made excuses to him and promised to teach him the craft and restore him to his native land, saying, “O my son, return me not evil for that I have done with thee.” Quoth Hasan, “How can I ever rely upon thee again?”; and quoth Bahram, “O my son, but for sin, there were no pardon. Indeed, I did all these doings with thee, but to try thy patience, and thou knowest that the case is altogether in the hands of Allah.” So the crew and captain rejoiced in Hasan’s release, and he called down blessings on them and praised the Almighty and thanked Him. With this the wind was stilled and the sky cleared and with a fair breeze they continued their voyage. Then said Hasan to Bahram, “O Master,4 whither wendest thou?” Replied the Magian, “O, my son, I am bound for the Mountain of Clouds, where is the Elixir which we use in alchemy.” And the Guebre swore to him by the Fire and the Light that he had no longer any cause to fear him. So Hasan’s heart was set at ease and rejoicing at the Persian’s words, he continued to eat and drink and sleep with the Magian, who clad him in his own raiment. They ceased not sailing on other three months, when the ship came to anchor off a long shoreline of many coloured pebbles, white and yellow and sky-blue and black and every other hue, and the Magian sprang up and said, “O Hasan, come, let us go ashore for we have reached the place of our wish and will.” So Hasan rose and landed with Bahram, after the Persian had commended his goods to the captain’s care. They walked on inland, till they were far enough from the ship to be out of sight, when Bahram sat down and taking from his pocket a kettle-drum5 of copper and a silken strap, worked in gold with characts, beat the drum with the strap, until there arose a cloud of dust from the further side of the waste. Hasan marvelled at the Magian’s doings and was afraid of him: he repented of having come ashore with him and his colour changed. But Bahram looked at him and said, “What aileth thee, O my son? By the truth of the Fire and the Light, thou hast naught to fear from me; and, were it not that my wish may never be won save by thy means, I had not brought thee ashore. So rejoice in all good; for yonder cloud of dust is the dust of somewhat we will mount and which will aid us to cut across this wold and make easy to us the hardships thereof.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Nár = fire, being feminine, like the names of the other “elements.”
2 The Egyptian Kurbáj of hippopotamus-hide (Burkh. Nubia, pp. 62,282) or elephant-hide (Turner ii. 365). Hence the Fr. Cravache (as Cravat is from Croat).
3 In Mac. Edit. “Bahriyah”: in Bresl. Edit. “Nawátíyah.” See vol. vi. 242, for, navita, nauta.
4 In Bresl. Edit. (iv. 285) “Yá Khwájah,” for which see vol. vi. 46.
5 Arab. “Tabl” (vulg. baz) = a kettle-drum about half a foot broad held in the left hand and beaten with a stick or leathern thong. Lane refers to his description (M.E. ii. chapt. v.) of the Dervish’s drum of tinned copper with parchment face, and renders Zakhmah or Zukhmah (strap, stirrup-leather) by “plectrum,” which gives a wrong idea. The Bresl. Edit. ignores the strap.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Persian said to Hasan, “In very sooth yonder dust-cloud is the cloud of something we will mount and which will aid us to cut across this wold and will make easy to us the hardships thereof.” Presently the dust lifted off three she-dromedaries, one of which Bahram mounted and Hasan another. Then they loaded their victual on the third and fared on seven days, till they came to a wide champaign and, descending into its midst, they saw a dome vaulted upon four pilasters of red gold; so they alighted and entering thereunder, ate and drank and took their rest. Anon Hasan chanced to glance aside and seeing from afar a something lofty said to the Magian, “What is that, O nuncle?” Bahram replied, “’Tis a palace,” and quoth Hasan, “Wilt thou not go thither, that we may enter and there repose ourselves and solace ourselves with inspecting it?” But the Persian was wroth and said, “Name not to me yonder palace; for therein dwelleth a foe, with whom there befel me somewhat whereof this is no time to tell thee.” Then he beat the kettle-drum and up came the dromedaries, and they mounted and fared on other seven days. On the eighth day, the Magian said, “O Hasan, what seest thou?” Hasan replied, “I see clouds and mists twixt east and west.” Quoth Bahram, “That is neither clouds nor mists, but a vast mountain and a lofty whereon the clouds split,1 and there are no clouds above it, for its exceeding height and surpassing elevation. Yon mount is my goal and thereon is the need we seek. ’Tis for that I brought thee hither, for my wish may not be won save at thy hands. Hasan hearing this gave his life up for lost and said to the Magian, “By the right of that thou worshippest and by the faith wherein thou believest, I conjure thee to tell me what is the object wherefor thou hast brought me!” Bahram replied, “The art of alchemy may not be accomplished save by means of a herb which groweth in the place where the clouds pass and whereon they split. Such a site is yonder mountain upon whose head the herb groweth and I purpose to send thee up thither to fetch it; and when we have it, I will show thee the secret of this craft which thou desirest to learn.” Hasan answered, in his fear, “’Tis well, O my master;” and indeed he despaired of life and wept for his parting from his parent and people and patrial stead, repenting him of having gainsaid his mother and reciting these two couplets,
“Consider but thy Lord, His work shall bring
Comfort to thee, with quick relief and near:
Despair not when thou sufferest sorest bane:
In bane how many blessed boons appear!”
They ceased not faring on till they came to the foothills of that mountain where they halted; and Hasan saw thereon a palace and asked Bahram, “What be yonder palace?”; whereto he answered, “’Tis the abode of the Jann and Ghuls and Satans.” Then the Magian alighted and making Hasan also dismount from his dromedary kissed his head and said to him, “Bear me no ill will anent that I did with thee, for I will keep guard over thee in thine ascent to the palace; and I conjure thee not to trick and cheat me of aught thou shalt bring therefrom; and I and thou will share equally therein.” And Hasan replied, “To hear is to obey.” Then Bahram opened a bag and taking out a handmill and a sufficiency of wheat, ground the grain and kneaded three round cakes of the flour; after which he lighted a fire and baked the bannocks. Then he took out the copper kettledrum and beat it with the broidered strap, whereupon up came the dromedaries. He chose out one and said, “Hearken, O my son, O Hasan, to what I am about to enjoin on thee;” and Hasan replied, “’Tis well.” Bahram continued, “Lie down on this skin and I will sew thee up therein and lay thee on the ground; whereupon the Rakham birds2 will come to thee and carry thee up to the mountain-top. Take this knife with thee; and, when thou feelest that the birds have done flying and have set thee down, slit open therewith the skin and come forth. The vultures will then take fright at thee and fly away; whereupon do thou look down from the mountain head and speak to me, and I will tell thee what to do.” So he sewed him up in the skin, placing therein three cakes and a leathern bottle full of water, and withdrew to a distance. Presently a vulture pounced upon him and taking him up, flew away with him to the mountain-top and there set him down. As soon as Hasan felt himself on the ground, he slit the skin and coming forth, called out to the Magian, who hearing his speech rejoiced and danced for excess of joy, saying to him, “Look behind thee and tell me what thou seest.” Hasan looked and seeing many rotten bones and much wood, told Bahram, who said to him, “This be what we need and seek. Make six bundles of the wood and throw them down to me, for this is wherewithal we do alchemy.” So he threw him the six bundles and when he had gotten them into his power he said to Hasan, “O gallows bird, I have won my wish of thee; and now, if thou wilt, thou mayst abide on this mountain, or cast thyself down to the earth and perish. So saying, he left him3 and went away, and Hasan exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! This hound hath played the traitor with me.” And he sat bemoaning himself and reciting these couplets,
“When God upon a man possessed of reasoning, Hearing and sight
His will in aught to pass would bring,
He stops his ears and blinds his eyes and draws his wit,
From him, as one draws out the hairs to paste that cling;
Till, His decrees fulfilled, He gives him back His wit,
That therewithal he may receive admonishing.
So say thou not of aught that haps, ‘How happened it?’
For Fate and fortune fixed do order everything.4”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The “Spartivento” of Italy, mostly a tall headland which divides the clouds. The most remarkable feature of the kind is the Dalmatian Island, Pelagosa.
2 The “Rocs” (Al–Arkhákh) in the Bresl. Edit. (iv. 290). The Rakham = aquiline vulture.
3 Lane here quotes a similar incident in the romance “Sayf Zú al-Yazan,” so called from the hero, whose son, Misr, is sewn up in a camel’s hide by Bahrám, a treacherous Magian, and is carried by the Rukhs to a mountain-top.
4 These lines occurred in Night xxvi. vol. i. 275: I quote Mr. Payne for variety.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Magian sent Hasan to the mountain-top and made him throw down all he required he presently reviled him and left him and wended his ways and the youth exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! This damned hound hath played the traitor.” Then he rose to his feet and looked right and left, after which he walked on along the mountain top, in mind making certain of death. He fared on thus till he came to the counterslope of the mountain, along which he saw a dark-blue sea, dashing with billows clashing and yeasting waves each as it were a lofty mount. So he sat down and repeated what he might of the Koran and besought Allah the Most High to ease him of his troubles, or by death or by deliverance from such strait. Then he recited for himself the funeral-prayer1 and cast himself down into the main; but, the waves bore him up by Allah’s grace, so that he reached the water unhurt, and the angel in whose charge is the sea watched over him, so that the billows bore him safe to land, by the decree of the Most High. Thereupon he rejoiced and praised Almighty Allah and thanked Him; after which he walked on in quest of something to eat, for stress of hunger, and came presently to the place where he had halted with the Magian, Bahram. Then he fared on awhile, till behold, he caught sight of a great palace, rising high in air, and knew it for that of which he had questioned the Persian and he had replied, “Therein dwelleth a foe, of mine.” Hasan said to himself, “By Allah, needs must I enter yonder palace; perchance relief awaiteth me there.” So coming to it and finding the gate open, he entered the vestibule, where he saw seated on a bench two girls like twin moons with a chess-cloth before them and they were at play. One of them raised her head to him and cried out for joy saying, “By Allah, here is a son of Adam, and methinks ’tis he whom Bahram the Magian brought hither this year!” So Hasan hearing her words cast himself at their feet and wept with sore weeping and said, “Yes, O my ladies, by Allah, I am indeed that unhappy.” Then said the younger damsel to her elder sister, “Bear witness against me,2 O my sister, that this is my brother by covenant of Allah and that I will die for his death and live for his life and joy for his joy and mourn for his mourning.” So saying, she rose and embraced him and kissed him and presently taking him by the hand and her sister with her, led him into the palace, where she did off his ragged clothes and brought him a suit of King’s raiment wherewith she arrayed him. Moreover, she made ready all manner viands3 and set them before him, and sat and ate with him, she and her sister. Then said they to him, “Tell us thy tale with yonder dog, the wicked, the wizard, from the time of thy falling into his hands to that of thy freeing thee from him; and after we will tell thee all that hath passed between us and him, so thou mayst be on thy guard against him an thou see him again.” Hearing these words and finding himself thus kindly received, Hasan took heart of grace and reason returned to him and he related to them all that had befallen him with the Magian from first to last. Then they asked, “Didst thou ask him of this palace?”; and he answered, “Yes, but he said, ‘Name it not to me; for it belongeth to Ghuls and Satans.’” At this, the two damsels waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and said, “Did that miscreant style us Ghuls and Satans?” And Hasan answered, “Yes.” Cried the younger sister, “By Allah, I will assuredly do him die with the foulest death and make him to lack the wind of the world!” Quoth Hasan, “And how wilt thou get at him, to kill him, for he is a crafty magician?”; and quoth she, “He is in a garden by name Al–Mushayyad,4 and there is no help but that I slay him before long.” Then said her sister, “Sooth spake Hasan in everything he hath recounted to us of this cur; but now tell him our tale, that all of it may abide in his memory.” So the younger said to him, “Know, O my brother, that we are the daughters of a King of the mightiest Kings of the Jann, having Marids for troops and guards and servants, and Almighty Allah blessed him with seven daughters by one wife; but of his folly such jealousy and stiff-neckedness and pride beyond compare gat hold upon him that he would not give us in marriage to any one and, summoning his Wazirs and Emirs, he said to them, ‘Can ye tell me of any place untrodden by the tread of men and Jinn and abounding in trees and fruits and rills?’ And quoth they, ‘What wilt thou therewith, O King of the Age?’ And quoth he, ‘I desire there to lodge my seven daughters.’ Answered they, ‘O King, the place for them is the Castle of the Mountain of Clouds, built by an Ifrit of the rebellious Jinn, who revolted from the covenant of our lord Solomon, on whom be the peace! Since his destruction, none hath dwelt there, nor man nor Jinni, for ’tis cut off5 and none may win to it. And the Castle is girt about with trees and fruits and rills, and the water running around it is sweeter than honey and colder than snow: none who is afflicted with leprosy or elephantiasis6 or what not else drinketh thereof but he is healed forthright. Hearing this our father sent us hither, with an escort of his troops and guards and provided us with all that we need here. When he is minded to ride to us he beateth a kettle-drum, whereupon all his hosts present themselves before him and he chooseth whom he shall ride and dismisseth the rest; but, when he desireth that we shall visit him, he commandeth his followers, the enchanters, to fetch us and carry us to the presence; so he may solace himself with our society and we accomplish our desire of him; after which they again carry us back hither. Our five other sisters are gone a-hunting in our desert, wherein are wild beasts past compt or calculation and, it being our turn to do this we two abode at home, to make ready for them food. Indeed, we had besought Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) to vouchsafe us a son of Adam to cheer us with his company and praised be He who hath brought thee to us! So be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, for no harm shall befal thee.” Hasan rejoiced and said, “Alhamdolillah, laud to the Lord who guideth us into the path of deliverance and inclineth hearts to us!” Then his sister7 rose and taking him by the hand, led him into a private chamber, where she brought out to him linen and furniture that no mortal can avail unto. Presently, the other damsels returned from hunting and birding and their sisters acquainted them with Hasan’s case; whereupon they rejoiced in him and going into him in his chamber, saluted him with the salam and gave him joy of his safety. Then he abode with them in all the solace of life and its joyance, riding out with them to the chase and taking his pleasure with them whilst they entreated him courteously and cheered him with converse, till his sadness ceased from him and he recovered health and strength and his body waxed stout and fat, by dint of fair treatment and pleasant time among the seven moons in that fair palace with its gardens and flowers; for indeed he led the delightsomest of lives with the damsels who delighted in him and he yet more in them. And they used to give him drink of the honey-dew of their lips8 these beauties with the high bosoms, adorned with grace and loveliness, the perfection of brilliancy and in shape very symmetry. Moreover the youngest Princess told her sisters how Bahram the Magian had made them of the Ghuls and Demons and Satans,9 and they sware that they would surely slay him. Next year the accursed Guebre again made his appearance, having with him a handsome young Moslem, as he were the moon, bound hand and foot and tormented with grievous tortures, and alighted with him below the palace-walls. Now Hasan was sitting under the trees by the side of the stream; and when he espied Bahram, his heart fluttered,10 his hue changed and he smote hand upon hand. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Thus a Moslem can not only circumcise and marry himself but can also bury canonically himself. The form of this prayer is given by Lane M. E. chapt. xv.
2 i.e. If I fail in my self-imposed duty, thou shalt charge me therewith on the Judgment-day.
3 Arab. “Al–Alwán,” plur. of laun (colour). The latter in Egyptian Arabic means a “dish of meat.” See Burckhardt No. 279. I repeat that the great traveller’s “Arabic Proverbs” wants republishing for two reasons. First he had not sufficient command of English to translate with the necessary laconism and assonance: secondly in his day British Philistinism was too rampant to permit a literal translation. Consequently the book falls short of what the Oriental student requires; and I have prepared it for my friend Mr. Quaritch.
4 i.e. Lofty, high-builded. See Night dcclxviii. vol. vii. p. 347. In the Bresl. Edit. Al–Masíd (as in Al–Kazwíni): in the Mac. Edit. Al–Mashid
5 Arab. “Munkati” here = cut off from the rest of the world. Applied to a man, and a popular term of abuse in Al–Hijáz, it means one cut off from the blessings of Allah and the benefits of mankind; a pauvre sire. (Pilgrimage ii. 22.)
6 Arab. “Baras au Juzám,” the two common forms of leprosy. See vol. iv. 51. Popular superstition in Syria holds that coition during the menses breeds the Juzám, Dáa al-Kabír (Great Evil) or Dáa al-Fíl (Elephantine Evil), i.e. Elephantiasis and that the days between the beginning of the flow (Sabíl) to that of coition shows the age when the progeny will be attacked; for instance if it take place on the first day, the disease will appear in the tenth year, on the fourth the fortieth and so on. The only diseases really dreaded by the Badawin are leprosy and small-pox. Coition during the menses is forbidden by all Eastern faiths under the severest penalties. Al–Mas’údi relates how a man thus begotten became a determined enemy of Ali; and the ancient Jews attributed the magical powers of Joshua Nazarenus to this accident of his birth, the popular idea being that sorcerers are thus impurely engendered.
7 By adoption — See vol. iii. 151. This sudden affection (not love) suggests the “Come to my arms, my slight acquaintance!” of the Anti–Jacobin. But it is true to Eastern nature; and nothing can be more charming than this fast friendship between the Princess and Hasan.
8 En tout bien et en tout honneur, be it understood.
9 He had done nothing of the kind; but the feminine mind is prone to exaggeration. Also Hasan had told them a fib, to prejudice them against the Persian.
10 These nervous movements have been reduced to a system in the Turk. “Ihtilájnámeh” = Book of palpitations, prognosticating from the subsultus tendinum and other involuntary movements of the body from head to foot; according to Ja’afar the Just, Daniel the Prophet, Alexander the Great; the Sages of Persia and the Wise Men of Greece. In England we attend chiefly to the eye and ear.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan the goldsmith saw the Magian, his heart fluttered, his hue changed and he smote hand upon hand. Then he said to the Princesses, “O my sisters, help me to the slaughter of this accursed, for here he is come back and in your grasp, and he leadeth with him captive a young Moslem of the sons of the notables, whom he is torturing with all manner grievous torments. Lief would I kill him and console my heart of him; and, by delivering the young Moslem from his mischief and restoring him to his country and kith and kin and friends, fain would I lay up merit for the world to come, by taking my wreak of him.1 This will be an almsdeed from you and ye will reap the reward thereof from Almighty Allah.” “We hear and we obey Allah and thee, O our brother, O Hasan,” replied they and binding chin-veils, armed themselves and slung on their swords: after which they brought Hasan a steed of the best and equipped him in panoply and weaponed him with goodly weapons. Then they all sallied out and found the Magian who had slaughtered and skinned a camel, ill-using the young Moslem, and saying to him, “Sit thee in this hide.” So Hasan came behind him, without his knowledge, and cried out at him till he was dazed and amazed. Then he came up to him, saying, “Hold thy hand, O accursed! O enemy of Allah and foe of the Moslems! O dog! O traitor! O thou that flame dost obey! O thou that walkest in the wicked ones’ ways, worshipping the fire and the light and swearing by the shade and the heat!” Herewith the Magian turned and seeing Hasan, thought to wheedle him and said to him, “O my son, how diddest thou escape and who brought thee down to earth?” Hasan replied, “He delivered me, who hath appointed the taking of thy life to be at my hand, and I will torture thee even as thou torturedst me the whole way long. O miscreant, O atheist,2 thou hast fallen into the twist and the way thou hast missed; and neither mother shall avail thee nor brother, nor friend nor solemn covenant shall assist thee; for thou saidst, O accursed, Whoso betrayeth bread and salt, may Allah do vengeance upon him! And thou hast broken the bond of bread and salt; wherefore the Almighty hath thrown thee into my grasp, and far is thy chance of escape from me.” Rejoined Bahram, “By Allah, O my son, O Hasan, thou art dearer to me than my sprite and the light of mine eyes!” But Hasan stepped up to him and hastily smote him between the shoulders, that the sword issued gleaming from his throat-tendons and Allah hurried his soul to the fire, and abiding-place dire. Then Hasan took the Magian’s bag and opened it, then having taken out the kettle-drum he struck it with the strap, whereupon up came the dromedaries like lightning. So he unbound the youth from his bonds and setting him on one of the camels, loaded him another with victual and water,3 saying, “Wend whither thou wilt.” So he departed, after Almighty Allah had thus delivered him from his strait at the hands of Hasan. When the damsels saw their brother slay the Magian they joyed in him with exceeding joy and gat round him, marvelling at his valour and prowess,4 and thanked him for his deed and gave him joy of his safety, saying, “O Hasan thou hast done a deed, whereby thou hast healed the burning of him that thirsteth for vengeance and pleased the King of Omnipotence!” Then they returned to the palace, and he abode with them, eating and drinking and laughing and making merry; and indeed his sojourn with them was joyous to him and he forgot his mother;5 but while he led with them this goodly life one day, behold, there arose from the further side of the desert a great cloud of dust that darkened the welkin and made towards them. When the Princess saw this, they said to him, “Rise, O Hasan, run to thy chamber and conceal thyself; or an thou wilt, go down into the garden and hide thyself among the trees and vines; but fear not, for no harm shall befal thee.” So he arose and entering his chamber, locked the door upon himself, and lay lurking in the palace. Presently the dust opened out and showed beneath it a great conquering host, as it were a surging sea, coming from the King, the father of the damsels. Now when the troops reached the castle, the Princesses received them with all honour and hospitably entertained them three days; after which they questioned them of their case and tidings and they replied saying, “We come from the King in quest of you.” They asked, “And what would the King with us?”; and the officers answered, “One of the Kings maketh a marriage festival, and your father would have you be present thereat and take your pleasure therewith.” The damsels enquired, “And how long shall we be absent from our place?”; and they rejoined, “The time to come and go, and to sojourn may be two months.” So the Princesses arose and going in to the palace sought Hasan, acquainted him with the case and said to him, “Verily this place is thy place and our house is thy house; so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear and feel nor grief nor fear, for none can come at thee here; but keep a good heart and a glad mind, till we return to thee. The keys of our chambers we leave with thee; but, O our brother, we beseech thee, by the bond of brotherhood, in very deed not to open such a door, for thou hast no need thereto.” Then they farewelled him and fared forth with the troops, leaving Hasan alone in the palace. It was not long before his breast grew straitened and his patience shortened: solitude and sadness were heavy on him and he sorrowed for his severance from them with passing chagrin. The palace for all its vastness, waxed small to him and finding himself sad and solitary, he bethought him of the damsels and their pleasant converse and recited these couplets,
“The wide plain is narrowed before these eyes
And the landscape troubles this heart of mine.
Since my friends went forth, by the loss of them
Joy fled and these eyelids rail floods of brine:
Sleep shunned these eyeballs for parting woe
And my mind is worn with sore pain and pine:
Would I wot an Time shall rejoin our lots
And the joys of love with night-talk combine.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Revenge, amongst the Arabs, is a sacred duty; and, in their state of civilization, society could not be kept together without it. So the slaughter of a villain is held to be a sacrifice to Allah, who amongst Christians claims for Himself the monopoly of vengeance.
2 Arab. “Zindík.” See vol. v. 230.
3 Lane translates this “put for him the remaining food and water;” but Ai–Akhar (Mac. Edit.) evidently refers to the Najíb (dromedary).
4 We can hardly see the heroism of the deed, but it must be remembered that Bahram was a wicked sorcerer, whom it was every good Moslem’s bounden duty to slay. Compare the treatment of witches in England two centuries ago.
5 The mother in Arab tales is ma mère, now becoming somewhat ridiculous in France on account of the over use of that venerable personage.
She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after the departure of the damsels, Hasan sat in the palace sad and solitary and his breast was straitened by severance. He used to ride forth a-hunting by himself in the wold and bring back the game and slaughter it and eat thereof alone: but melancholy and disquiet redoubled on him, by reason of his loneliness. So he arose and went round about the palace and explored its every part; he opened the Princesses’ apartments and found therein riches and treasures fit to ravish the beholder’s reason; but he delighted not in aught thereof, by reason of their absence. His heart was fired by thinking of the door they had charged him not to approach or open on any account and he said in himself, “My sister had never enjoined me not to open this door, except there were behind it somewhat whereof she would have none to know; but, by Allah, I will arise and open it and see what is within, though within it were sudden death!” Then he took the key and, opening the door,1 saw therein no treasure but he espied a vaulted and winding staircase of Yamani onyx at the upper end of the chamber. So he mounted the stair, which brought him out upon the terrace — roof of the palace, whence he looked down upon the gardens and vergiers, full of trees and fruits and beasts and birds warbling praises of Allah, the One, the All-powerful; and said in himself “This is that they forbade to me.” He gazed upon these pleasaunces and saw beyond a surging sea, dashing with clashing billows, and he ceased not to explore the palace right and left, till he ended at a pavilion builded with alternate courses, two bricks of gold and one of silver and jacinth and emerald and supported by four columns. And in the centre he saw a sitting — room paved and lined with a mosaic of all manner precious stones such as rubies and emeralds and balasses and other jewels of sorts; and in its midst stood a basin2 brimful of water, over which was a trellis-work of sandalwood and aloes-wood reticulated with rods of red gold and wands of emerald and set with various kinds of jewels and fine pearls, each sized as a pigeon’s egg. The trellis was covered with a climbing vine, bearing grapes like rubies, and beside the basin stood a throne of lign-aloes latticed with red gold, inlaid with great pearls and comprising vari-coloured gems of every sort and precious minerals each kind fronting each and symmetrically disposed. About it the birds warbled with sweet tongues and various voices celebrating the praises of Allah the Most High: brief, it was a palace such as nor Cæsar nor Chosroës ever owned; but Hasan saw therein none of the creatures of Allah, whereat he marvelled and said in himself, “I wonder to which of the Kings this place pertaineth, or is it Many–Columned Iram whereof they tell, for who among mortals can avail to the like of this?” And indeed he was amazed at the spectacle and sat down in the pavilion and cast glances around him marvelling at the beauty of its ordinance and at the lustre of the pearls and jewels and the curious works which therein were, no less than at the gardens and orchards aforesaid and at the birds that hymned the praises of Allah, the One, the Almighty; and he abode pondering the traces of him whom the Most High had enabled to rear that structure, for indeed He is muchel of might.3 And presently, behold, he espied ten birds 4 flying towards the pavilion from the heart of the desert and knew that they were making the palace and bound for the basin, to drink of its waters: so he hid himself, for fear they should see him and take flight. They lighted on a great tree and a goodly and circled round about it; and he saw amongst them a bird of marvel-beauty, the goodliest of them all, and the nine stood around it and did it service; and Hasan marvelled to see it peck them with its bill and lord it over them while they fled from it. He stood gazing at them from afar as they entered the pavilion and perched on the couch; after which each bird rent open its neck-skin with its claws and issued out of it; and lo! it was but a garment of feathers, and there came forth therefrom ten virgins, maids whose beauty shamed the brilliancy of the moon. They all doffed their clothes and plunging into the basin, washed and fell to playing and sporting one with other; whilst the chief bird of them lifted up the rest and ducked them down and they fled from her and dared not put forth their hands to her. When Hasan beheld her thus he took leave of his right reason and his sense was enslaved, so he knew that the Princesses had not forbidden him to open the door save because of this; for he fell passionately in love with her, for what he saw of her beauty and loveliness, symmetry and perfect grace, as she played and sported and splashed the others with the water. He stood looking upon them whilst they saw him not, with eye gazing and heart burning and soul5 to evil prompting; and he sighed to be with them and wept for longing, because of the beauty and loveliness of the chief damsel. His mind was amazed at her charms and his heart taken in the net of her love; lowe was loosed in his heart for her sake and there waxed on him a flame, whose sparks might not be quenched, and desire, whose signs might not be hidden. Presently, they came up out of that basin, whilst Hasan marvelled at their beauty and loveliness and the tokens of inner gifts in the elegance of their movements. Then he cast a glance at the chief damsel who stood mother — naked and there was manifest to him what was between her thighs a goodly rounded dome on pillars borne, like a bowl of silver or crystal, which recalled to him the saying of the poet,6
“When I took up her shift and discovered the terrace-roof of her kaze,
I found it as strait as my humour or eke my worldly ways:
So I thrust it, incontinent, in, halfway, and she heaved a sigh.
‘For what dost thou sigh?’ quoth I. ‘For the rest of it sure,’ she says.”
Then coming out of the water they all put on their dresses and ornaments, and the chief maiden donned a green dress,7 wherein she surpassed for loveliness all the fair ones of the world and the lustre of her face outshone the resplendent full moons: she excelled the branches with the grace of her bending gait and confounded the wit with apprehension of disdain; and indeed she was as saith the poet,8
“A maiden ’twas, the dresser’s art had decked with cunning sleight;
The sun thou ‘d’st say had robbed her cheek and shone with borrowed light.
She came to us apparelled fair in under vest of green,
Like as the ripe pomegranate hides beneath its leafy screen;
And when we asked her what might be the name of what she wore,
She answered in a quaint reply that double meaning bore:
The desert’s heart we penetrate in such apparel dressed,
And Pierce-heart therefore is the name by which we call the vest.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The forbidden closet occurs also in Sayf Zú al-Yazan, who enters it and finds the bird-girls. Trébutien ii, 208 says, “Il est assez remarquable qu’il existe en Allemagne une tradition à peu près semblable, et qui a fourni le sujet d’un des contes de Musaeus, entitulé, le voile enlevé.” Here Hasan is artfully left alone in a large palace without other companions but his thoughts and the reader is left to divine the train of ideas which drove him to open the door.
2 Arab. “Buhayrah” (Bresl. Edit. “Bahrah”), the tank or cistern in the Hosh (court-yard) of an Eastern house. Here, however, it is a rain-cistern on the flat roof of the palace (See Night dcccviii).
3 This description of the view is one of the most gorgeous in The Nights.
4 Here again are the “Swan-maidens” (See vol. v. 346) “one of the primitive myths, the common heritage of the whole Aryan (Iranian) race.” In Persia Bahram-i-Gúr when carried off by the Dív Sapíd seizes the Peri’s dove-coat: in Santháli folk-lore Torica, the Goatherd, steals the garment doffed by one of the daughters of the sun; and hence the twelve birds of Russian Story. To the same cycle belong the Seal-tales of the Faroe Islands (Thorpe’s Northern Mythology) and the wise women or mermaids of Shetland (Hibbert). Wayland the smith captures a wife by seizing a mermaid’s raiment and so did Sir Hagán by annexing the wardrobe of a Danubian water-nymph. Lettsom, the translator, mixes up this swan-raiment with that of the Valkyries or Choosers of the Slain. In real life stealing women’s clothes is an old trick and has often induced them, after having been seen naked, to offer their persons spontaneously. Of this I knew two cases in India, where the theft is justified by divine example. The blue god Krishna, a barbarous and grotesque Hindu Apollo, robbed the raiment of the pretty Gopálís (cowherdesses) who were bathing in the Arjun River and carried them to the top of a Kunduna tree; nor would he restore them till he had reviewed the naked girls and taken one of them to wife. See also Imr al-Kays (of the Mu’allakah) with “Onaiza” at the port of Daratjuljul (Clouston’s Arabian Poetry, p.4). A critic has complained of my tracing the origin of the Swan-maiden legend to the physical resemblance between the bird and a high-bred girl (vol. v. 346). I should have explained my theory which is shortly, that we must seek a material basis for all so-called supernaturalisms, and that anthropomorphism satisfactorily explains the Swan-maiden, as it does the angel and the devil. There is much to say on the subject; but this is not the place for long discussion.
5 Arab. “Nafs Ammárah,” corresponding with our canting term “The Flesh.” Nafs al-Nátíkah is the intellectual soul or function; Nafs al-Ghazabíyah = the animal function and Nafs al Shahwáníyah = the vegetative property.
6 The lines occur in vol. ii. 331: I have quoted Mr. Payne. Here they are singularly out of place.
7 Not the “green gown” of Anglo–India i.e. a white ball-dress with blades of grass sticking to it in consequence of a “fall backwards.”
8 These lines occur in vol. i. 219: I have borrowed from Torrens (p. 219).
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan saw the damsels issue forth the basin, the chief maiden robbed his reason with her beauty and loveliness compelling him to recite the couplets forequoted. And after dressing they sat talking and laughing, whilst he stood gazing on them, drowned in the sea of his love, burning in the flames of passion and wandering in the Wady of his melancholy thought. And he said to himself, “By Allah, my sister forbade me not to open the door, but for cause of these maidens and for fear lest I should fall in love with one of them! How, O Hasan shalt thou woo and win them? How bring down a bird flying in the vasty firmament? By Allah thou hast cast thyself into a bottomless sea and snared thyself in a net whence there is no escape! I shall die desolate and none shall wot of my death.” And he continued to gaze on the charms of the chief damsel, who was the loveliest creature Allah had made in her day, and indeed she outdid in beauty all human beings. She had a mouth magical as Solomon’s seal and hair blacker than the night of estrangement to the love-despairing man; her brow was bright as the crescent moon of the Feast of Ramazán1 and her eyes were like eyes wherewith gazelles scan; she had a polished nose straight as a cane and cheeks like blood-red anemones of Nu’uman, lips like coralline and teeth like strung pearls in carcanets of gold virgin to man, and a neck like an ingot of silver, above a shape like a wand of Bán: her middle was full of folds, a dimpled plain such as enforceth the distracted lover to magnify Allah and extol His might and main, and her navel2 an ounce of musk, sweetest of savour could contain: she had thighs great and plump, like marble columns twain or bolsters stuffed with down from ostrich ta’en, and between them a somewhat, as it were a hummock great of span or a hare with ears back lain while terrace-roof and pilasters completed the plan; and indeed she surpassed the bough of the myrobalan with her beauty and symmetry, and the Indian rattan, for she was even as saith of them the poet whom love did unman,3
“Her lip-dews rival honey-sweets, that sweet virginity;
Keener than Hindi scymitar the glance she casts at thee:
She shames the bending bough of Bán with graceful movement slow
And as she smiles her teeth appear with leven’s brilliancy:
When I compared with rose a-bloom the tintage of her cheeks,
She laughed in scorn and cried, ‘Whoso compares with rosery
My hue and breasts, granados terms, is there no shame in him?
How should pomegranates bear on bough such fruit in form or blee?
Now by my beauty and mine eyes and heart and eke by Heaven
Of favours mine and by the Hell of my unclemency,
They say ‘She is a garden-rose in very pride of bloom’;
And yet no rose can ape my cheek nor branch my symmetry!
If any garden own a thing which unto me is like,
What then is that he comes to crave of me and only me?”’
They ceased not to laugh and play, whilst Hasan stood still a-watching them, forgetting meat and drink, till near the hour of mid-afternoon prayer, when the beauty, the chief damsel, said to her mates, “O Kings’ daughters, it waxeth late and our land is afar and we are weary of this stead. Come, therefore, let us depart to our own place.” So they all arose and donned their feather vests, and becoming birds as they were before, flew away all together, with the chief lady in their midst. Then, Hasan, despairing of their return, would have arisen and gone down into the palace but could not move or even stand; wherefore the tears ran down his cheeks and passion was sore on him and he recited these couplets,
“May God deny me boon of troth if I
After your absence sweets of slumber know:
Yea; since that sev’rance never close mine eyes,
Nor rest repose me since departed you!
‘Twould seem as though you saw me in your sleep;
Would Heaven the dreams of sleep were real-true!
Indeed I dote on sleep though needed not,
For sleep may bring me that dear form to view.”
Then Hasan walked on, little by little, heeding not the way he went, till he reached the foot of the stairs, whence he dragged himself to his own chamber; then he entered and shutting the door, lay sick eating not nor drinking and drowned in the sea of his solitude. He spent the night thus, weeping and bemoaning himself, till the morning, and when it morrowed he repeated these couplets,
“The birds took flight at eve and winged their way;
And sinless he who died of Love’s death-blow.
I’ll keep my love-tale secret while I can
But, an desire prevail, its needs must show:
Night brought me nightly vision, bright as dawn;
While nights of my desire lack morning-glow.
I mourn for them4 while they heart-freest sleep
And winds of love on me their plaything blow:
Free I bestow my tears, my wealth, my heart
My wit, my sprite:– most gain who most bestow!
The worst of woes and banes is enmity
Beautiful maidens deal us to our woe.
Favour they say’s forbidden to the fair
And shedding lovers’ blood their laws allow;
That naught can love-sicks do but lavish soul,
And stake in love-play life on single throw:5
I cry in longing ardour for my love:
Lover can only weep and wail Love-lowe.”
When the sun rose he opened the door, went forth of the chamber and mounted to the stead where he was before: then he sat down facing the pavilion and awaited the return of the birds till nightfall; but they returned not; wherefore he wept till he fell to the ground in a fainting-fit. When he came to after his swoon, he dragged himself down the stairs to his chamber; and indeed, the darkness was come and straitened upon him was the whole world and he ceased not to weep and wail himself through the livelong night, till the day broke and the sun rained over hill and dale its rays serene. He ate not nor drank nor slept, nor was there any rest for him; but by day he was distracted and by night distressed, with sleeplessness delirious and drunken with melancholy thought and excess of love-longing. And he repeated the verses of the love-distraught poet,
“O thou who shamest sun in morning sheen
The branch confounding, yet with nescience blest;
Would Heaven I wot an Time shall bring return
And quench the fires which flame unmanifest —
Bring us together in a close embrace,
Thy cheek upon my cheek, thy breast abreast!
Who saith, In Love dwells sweetness? when in Love
Are bitterer days than Aloës6 bitterest.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The appearance of which ends the fast and begins the Lesser Festival. See vol. i. 84.
2 See note, vol. i. 84, for notices of the large navel; much appreciated by Easterns.
3 Arab. “Shá‘ir Al–Walahán” = the love-distraught poet; Lane has “a distracted poet.” My learned friend Professor Aloys Sprenger has consulted, upon the subject of Al–Walahán the well-known Professor of Arabic at Halle, Dr. Thorbeck, who remarks that the word (here as further on) must be an adjective, mad, love-distraught, not a “lakab” or poetical cognomen. He generally finds it written Al–Shá‘ir al-Walahán (the love-demented poet) not Al–Walahán al-Shá‘ir = Walahán the Poet. Note this burst of song after the sweet youth falls in love: it explains the cause of verse-quotation in The Nights, poetry being the natural language of love and battle.
4 “Them” as usual for “her.”
5 Here Lane proposes a transposition, for “Wa-huwá (and he) fi’l-hubbi,” to read “Fi ‘l-hubbi wa huwa (wa-hwa);” but the latter is given in the Mac. Edit.
6 For the pun in “Sabr”=aloe or patience. See vol. i. 138. In Herr Landberg (i. 93) we find a misunderstanding of the couplet —
“Aw’ákibu s-sabri (Kála ba’azuhum)
Mahmúdah: Kultu, ‘khshi an takhirriní.’”
“The effects of patience” (or aloes) quoth one “are praiseworthy!” Quoth I, “Much I fear lest it make me stool.” Mahmúdah is not only un laxatif, but a slang name for a confection of aloes.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan the goldsmith felt love redouble upon him, he recited those lines; and, as he abode thus in the stress of his love-distraction, alone and finding none to cheer him with company, behold, there arose a dust-cloud from the desert, wherefore he ran down and hid himself knowing that the Princesses who owned the castle had returned. Before long, the troops halted and dismounted round the palace and the seven damsels alighted and entering, put off their arms and armour of war. As for the youngest, she stayed not to doff her weapons and gear, but went straight to Hasan’s chamber, where finding him not, she sought for him, till she lighted on him in one of the sleeping closets hidden, feeble and thin, with shrunken body and wasted bones and indeed his colour was changed and his eyes sunken in his face for lack of food and drink and for much weeping, by reason of his love and longing for the young lady. When she saw him in this plight, she was confounded and lost her wits; but presently she questioned him of his case and what had befallen him, saying, “Tell me what aileth thee, O my brother, that I may contrive to do away thine affliction, and I will be thy ransom!”1 Whereupon he wept with sore weeping and by way of reply he began reciting,
“Lover, when parted from the thing he loves,
Has naught save weary woe and bane to bear.
Inside is sickness, outside living lowe,
His first is fancy and his last despair.”
When his sister heard this, she marvelled at his eloquence and loquent speech and his readiness at answering her in verse and said to him, “O my brother, when didst thou fall into this thy case and what hath betided thee, that I find thee speaking in song and shedding tears that throng? Allah upon thee, O my brother, and by the honest love which is between us, tell me what aileth thee and discover to me thy secret, nor conceal from me aught of that which hath befallen thee in our absence; for my breast is straitened and my life is troubled because of thee.” He sighed and railed tears like rain, after which he said, “I fear, O my sister, if I tell thee, that thou wilt not aid me to win my wish but wilt leave me to die wretchedly in mine anguish.” She replied, “No, by Allah, O my brother, I will not abandon thee, though it cost me my life!” So he told her all that had befallen him, and that the cause of his distress and affliction was the passion he had conceived for the young lady whom he had seen when he opened the forbidden door; and how he had not tasted meat nor drink for ten days past. Then he wept with sore weeping and recited these couplets,
“Restore my heart as ’twas within my breast,
Let mine eyes sleep again, then fly fro’ me.
Deem ye the nights have had the might to change
Love’s vow? Who changeth may he never be!”
His sister wept for his weeping and was moved to ruth for his case and pitied his strangerhood; so she said to him, “O my brother, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, for I will venture being and risk existence to content thee and devise thee a device wherewith, though it cost me my dear life and all I hold dear, thou mayst get possession of her and accomplish thy desire, if such be the will of Allah Almighty. But I charge thee, O my brother, keep the matter secret from my sisterhood and discover not thy case to any one of them, lest my life be lost with thy life. An they question thee of opening the forbidden door, reply to them, ‘I opened it not; no, never; but I was troubled at heart for your absence and by my loneliness here and yearning for you.’”2 And he answered, “Yes: this is the right rede.” So he kissed her head and his heart was comforted and his bosom broadened. He had been nigh upon death for excess of affright, for he had gone in fear of her by reason of his having opened the door; but now his life and soul returned to him. Then he sought of her somewhat of food and after serving it she left him, and went in to her sisters, weeping and mourning for him. They questioned her of her case and she told them how she was heavy at heart for her brother, because he was sick and for ten days no food had found way into his stomach. So they asked the cause of his sickness and she answered, “The reason was our severance from him and our leaving him desolate; for these days we have been absent from him were longer to him than a thousand years and scant blame to him, seeing he is a stranger, and solitary and we left him alone, with none to company with him or hearten his heart; more by token that he is but a youth and may be he called to mind his family and his mother, who is a woman in years, and bethought him that she weepeth for him all whiles of the day and watches of the night, ever mourning his loss; and we used to solace him with our society and divert him from thinking of her.” When her sisters heard these words they wept in the stress of their distress for him and said, “Wa’lláhi —‘fore Allah, he is not to blame!” Then they went out to the army and dismissed it, after which they went into Hasan and saluted him with the salam. When they saw his charms changed with yellow colour and shrunken body, they wept for very pity and sat by his side and comforted him and cheered him with converse, relating to him all they had seen by the way of wonders and rarities and what had befallen the bridegroom with the bride. They abode with him thus a whole month, tendering him and caressing him with words sweeter than syrup; but every day sickness was added to his sickness, which when they saw, they bewept him with sore weeping, and the youngest wept even more than the rest. At the end of this time, the Princesses having made up their minds to ride forth a-hunting and a-birding invited their sister to accompany them, but she said, “By Allah, O my sisters, I cannot go forth with you whilst my brother is in this plight, nor indeed till he be restored to health and there cease from him that which is with him of affliction. Rather will I sit with him and comfort him.” They thanked her for her kindness and said to her, “Allah will requite thee all thou dost with this stranger.” Then they left her with him in the palace and rode forth taking with them twenty days’ victual; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Akúna fidá-ka.” Fidá = ransom, self-sacrifice and Fidá‘an = instead of. The phrase, which everywhere occurs in The Nights, means, “I would give my life to save thine ”
2 Thus accounting for his sickness, improbably enough but in flattering way. Like a good friend (feminine) she does not hesitate a moment in prescribing a fib.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Princesses mounted and rode forth a-hunting and a-birding, after leaving in the palace their youngest sister sitting by Hasan’s side; and as soon as the damsel knew that they had covered a long distance from home, she went in to him and said, “O my brother, come, show me the place where thou sawest the maidens.” He rejoiced in her words, making sure of winning his wish, and replied, “Bismillah! On my head!” Then he essayed to rise and show her the place, but could not walk; so she took him up in her arms, holding him to her bosom between her breasts; and, opening the staircase-door, carried him to the top of the palace, and he showed her the pavilion where he had seen the girls and the basin of water, wherein they had bathed. Then she said to him, “Set forth to me, O my brother, their case and how they came.” So he described to her whatso he had seen of them and especially the girl of whom he was enamoured; but hearing these words she knew her and her cheeks paled and her case changed. Quoth he, “O my sister, what aileth thee to wax wan and be troubled?”; and quoth she, “O my brother, know thou that this young lady is the daughter of a Sovran of the Jann, of one of the most puissant of their Kings, and her father had dominion over men and Jinn and wizards and Cohens and tribal chiefs and guards and countries and cities and islands galore and hath immense wealth in store. Our father is a Viceroy and one of his vassals and none can avail against him, for the multitude of his many and the extent of his empire and the muchness of his monies. He hath assigned to his offspring, the daughters thou sawest, a tract of country, a whole year’s journey in length and breadth, a region girt about with a great river and a deep; and thereto none may attain, nor man nor Jann. He hath an army of women, smiters with swords and lungers with lances, five-and-twenty thousand in number, each of whom, whenas she mounteth steed and donneth battle-gear, eveneth a thousand knights of the bravest. Moreover, he hath seven daughters, who in valour and prowess equal and even excel their sisters,1 and he hath made the eldest of them, the damsel whom thou sawest,2 queen over the country aforesaid and who is the wisest of her sisters and in valour and horsemanship and craft and skill and magic excels all the folk of her dominions. The girls who companied with her are the ladies of her court and guards and grandees of her empire, and the plumed skins wherewith they fly are the handiwork of enchanters of the Jann. Now an thou wouldst get possession of this queen and wed this jewel seld-seen and enjoy her beauty and loveliness and grace, do thou pay heed to my words and keep them in thy memory. They resort to this place on the first day of every month; and thou must take seat here and watch for them; and when thou seest them coming hide thee near the pavilion sitting where thou mayst see them, without being seen of them, and beware, again beware lest thou show thyself, or we shall all lose our lives. When they doff their dress note which is the feather-suit of her whom thou lovest and take it, and it only, for this it is that carrieth her to her country, and when thou hast mastered it, thou hast mastered her. And beware lest she wile thee, saying, ‘O thou who hast robbed my raiment, restore it to me, because here am I in thine hands and at thy mercy!’ For, an thou give it her, she will kill thee and break down over us palace and pavilion and slay our sire: know, then, thy case and how thou shalt act. When her companions see that her feather-suit is stolen, they will take flight and leave her to thee, and beware lest thou show thyself to them, but wait till they have flown away and she despaireth of them: whereupon do thou go in to her and hale her by the hair of her head3 and drag her to thee; which being done, she will be at thy mercy. And I rede thee discover not to her that thou hast taken the feather-suit, but keep it with care; for, so long as thou hast it in hold, she is thy prisoner and in thy power, seeing that she cannot fly to her country save with it. And lastly carry her down to thy chamber where she will be thine.” When Hasan heard her words his heart became at ease, his trouble ceased and affliction left him; so he rose to his feet and kissing his sister’s head, went down from the terrace with her into the palace, where they slept that night. He medicined himself till morning morrowed; and when the sun rose, he sprang up and opened the staircase-door and ascending to the flat roof sat there till supper-tide when his sister brought him up somewhat of meat and drink and a change of clothes and he slept. And thus they continued doing, day by day until the end of the month. When he saw the new moon, he rejoiced and began to watch for the birds, and while he was thus, behold, up they came, like lightning. As soon as he espied them, he hid himself where he could watch them, unwatched by them, and they lighted down one and all of them, and putting off their clothes, descended into the basin. All this took place near the stead where Hasan lay concealed, and as soon as he caught sight of the girl he loved, he arose and crept under cover, little by little, towards the dresses, and Allah veiled him so that none marked his approach for they were laughing and playing with one another, till he laid hand on the dress. Now when they had made an end of their diversion, they came forth of the basin and each of them slipped on her feather-suit. But the damsel he loved sought for her plumage that she might put it on, but found it not; whereupon she shrieked and beat her cheeks and rent her raiment. Her sisterhood4 came to her and asked what ailed her, and she told them that her feather-suit was missing; wherefore they wept and shrieked and buffeted their faces: and they were confounded, wotting not the cause of this, and knew not what to do. Presently the night overtook them and they feared to abide with her lest that which had befallen her should befal them also; so they farewelled her and flying away left her alone upon the terrace-roof of the palace, by the pavilion basin. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. the 25,000 Amazons who in the Bresl. Edit. (ii. 308) are all made to be the King’s Banát” = daughters or protégées. The Amazons of Dahome (see my “Mission”) who may now number 5,000 are all officially wives of the King and are called by the lieges “our mothers.”
2 The tale-teller has made up his mind about the damsel; although in this part of the story she is the chief and eldest sister and subsequently she appears as the youngest daughter of the supreme Jinn King. The mystification is artfully explained by the extraordinary likeness of the two sisters. (See Night dcccxi.)
3 This is a reminiscence of the old-fashioned “marriage by capture,” of which many traces survive, even among the civilised who wholly ignore their origin.
4 Meaning her companions and suite.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan had carried off the girl’s plumery, she sought it but found it not and her sisterhood flew away leaving her alone. When they were out of sight, Hasan gave ear to her and heard her say, “O who hast taken my dress and stripped me, I beseech thee to restore it to me and cover my shame, so may Allah never make thee taste of my tribulation!” But when Hasan heard her speak thus, with speech sweeter than syrup, his love for her redoubled, passion got the mastery of his reason and he had not patience to endure from her. So springing up from his hiding-place, he rushed upon her and laying hold of her by the hair dragged her to him and carried her down to the basement of the palace and set her in his own chamber, where he threw over her a silken cloak1 and left her weeping and biting her hands. Then he shut the door upon her and going to his sister, informed her how he had made prize of his lover and carried her to his sleeping-closet, “And there,” quoth he, “she is now sitting, weeping and biting her hands.” When his sister heard this, she rose forthright and betook herself to the chamber, where she found the captive weeping and mourning. So she kissed ground before her and saluted her with the salam and the young lady said to her, “O King’s daughter, do folk like you do such foul deed with the daughters of Kings? Thou knowest that my father is a mighty Sovran and that all the liege lords of the Jinn stand in awe of him and fear his majesty: for that there are with him magicians and sages and Cohens and Satans and Marids, such as none may cope withal, and under his hand are folk whose number none knoweth save Allah. How then doth it become you, O daughters of Kings, to harbour mortal men with you and disclose to them our case and yours? Else how should this man, a stranger, come at us?” Hasan’s sister made reply, “O King’s daughter, in very sooth this human is perfect in nobleness and purposeth thee no villainy; but he loveth thee, and women were not made save for men. Did he not love thee, he had not fallen sick for thy sake and well-nigh given up the ghost for desire of thee.” And she told her the whole tale how Hasan had seen her bathing in the basin with her attendants, and fallen in love with her, and none had pleased him but she, for the rest were all her handmaids, and none had availed to put forth a hand to her. When the Princess heard this, she despaired of deliverance and presently Hasan’s sister went forth and brought her a costly dress, wherein she robed her. Then she set before her somewhat of meat and drink and ate with her and heartened her heart and soothed her sorrows. And she ceased not to speak her fair with soft and pleasant words, saying, “Have pity on him who saw thee once and became as one slain by thy love;” and continued to console her and caress her, quoting fair says and pleasant instances. But she wept till daybreak, when her trouble subsided and she left shedding tears, knowing that she had fallen into the net and that there was no deliverance for her. Then said she to Hasan’s sister, “O King’s daughter, with this my strangerhood and severance from my country and sisterhood which Allah wrote upon my brow, patience becometh me to support what my Lord hath foreordained.” Therewith the youngest Princess assigned her a chamber in the palace, than which there was none goodlier and ceased not to sit with her and console her and solace her heart, till she was satisfied with her lot and her bosom was broadened and she laughed and there ceased from her what trouble and oppression possessed her, by reason of her separation from her people and country and sisterhood and parents. Thereupon Hasan’s sister repaired to him, and said, “Arise, go in to her in her chamber and kiss her hands and feet.”2 So he went in to her and did this and bussed her between the eyes, saying, “O Princess of fair ones and life of sprites and beholder’s delight, be easy of heart, for I took thee only that I might be thy bondsman till the Day of Doom, and this my sister will be thy servant; for I, O my lady, desire naught but to take thee to wife, after the law of Allah and the practice of His Apostle, and whenas thou wilt, I will journey with thee to my country and carry thee to Baghdad-city and abide with thee there: moreover, I will buy thee handmaidens and negro chattels; and I have a mother, of the best of women, who will do thee service. There is no goodlier land than our land; everything therein is better than elsewhere and its folk are a pleasant people and bright of face.” Now as he bespake her thus and strave to comfort her, what while she answered him not a syllable, lo! there came a knocking at the palace-gate. So Hasan went out to see who was at the door and found there the six Princesses, who had returned from hunting and birding, whereat he rejoiced and went to meet them and welcomed them. They wished him safety and health and he wished them the like; after which they dismounted and going each to her chamber doffed their soiled clothes and donned fine linen. Then they came forth and demanded the game, for they had taken a store of gazelles and wild cows, hares and lions, hyaenas, and others; so their suite brought out some thereof for butchering, keeping the rest by them in the palace, and Hasan girt himself and fell to slaughtering for them in due form,3 whilst they sported and made merry, joying with great joy to see him standing amongst them hale and hearty once more. When they had made an end of slaughtering, they sat down and addressed themselves to get ready somewhat for breaking their fast, and Hasan, coming up to the eldest Princess, kissed her head and on like wise did he with the rest, one after other. Whereupon said they to him, “Indeed, thou humblest thyself to us passing measure, O our brother, and we marvel at the excess of the affection thou showest us. But Allah forfend that thou shouldst do this thing, which it behoveth us rather to do with thee, seeing thou art a man and therefor worthier than we, who are of the Jinn.”4 Thereupon his eyes brimmed with tears and he wept sore; so they said to him, “What causeth thee to weep? Indeed, thou troublest our pleasant lives with thy weeping this day. ‘Twould seem thou longest after thy mother and native land. An things be so, we will equip thee and carry thee to thy home and thy friends.” He replied, “By Allah, I desire not to part from you!” Then they asked, “Which of us hath vexed thee, that thou art thus troubled?” But he was ashamed to say, “Naught troubleth me save love of a damsel,” lest they should deny and disavow him: so he was silent and would tell them nothing of his case. Then his sister came forward and said to them, “He hath caught a bird from the air and would have you help him to tame her.” Whereupon they all turned to him and cried, “We are at thy service every one of us and whatsoever thou seekest that will we do: but tell us thy tale and conceal from us naught of thy case.” So he said to his sister, “Do thou tell them, for I am ashamed before them nor can I face them with these words.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “‘Abáah” vulg. “‘Abáyah.” See vol. ii. 133.
2 Feet in the East lack that development of sebaceous glands which afflicts Europeans.
3 i.e. cutting the animals’ throats after Moslem law.
4 In Night dcclxxviii. supra p.5, we find the orthodox Moslem doctrine that “a single mortal is better in Allah’s sight than a thousand Jinns.” For, I repeat, Al–Islam systematically exalts human nature which Christianity takes infinite trouble to degrade and debase. The results of its ignoble teaching are only too evident in the East: the Christians of the so-called (and miscalled) “Holy Land” are a disgrace to the faith and the idiomatic Persian term for a Nazarene is “Tarsá” = funker, coward.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Hasan said to his sister, “Do thou tell them my tale, for before them I stand abashed nor can I face them with these words.” So she said to them, “O my sisters, when we went away and left alone this unhappy one, the palace was straitened upon him and he feared lest some one should come in to him, for ye know that the sons of Adam are light of wits. So, he opened the door of the staircase leading to the roof, of his loneliness and trouble, and sat there, looking upon the Wady and watching the gate, in his fear lest any should come thither. One day, as he sat thus, suddenly he saw ten birds approach him, making for the palace, and they lighted down on the brink of the basin which is in the pavilion-terrace. He watched these birds and saw, amongst them, one goodlier than the rest, which pecked the others and flouted them, whilst none of them dared put out a claw to it. Presently, they set their nails to their neck-collars and, rending their feather-suits, came forth therefrom and became damsels, each and every, like the moon on fullest night. Then they doffed their dress and plunging into the water, fell to playing with one another, whilst the chief damsel ducked the others, who dared not lay a finger on her and she was fairest of favour and most famous of form and most feateous of finery. They ceased not to be in this case till near the hour of mid-afternoon prayer, when they came forth of the basin and, donning their feather-shifts, flew away home. Thereupon he waxed distracted, with a heart afire for love of the chief damsel and repenting him that he had not stolen her plumery. Wherefore he fell sick and abode on the palace-roof expecting her return and abstaining from meat and drink and sleep, and he ceased not to be so till the new moon showed, when behold, they again made their appearance according to custom and doffing their dresses went down into the basin. So he stole the chief damsel’s feather-suit, knowing that she could not fly save therewith, hiding himself carefully lest they sight him and slay him. Then he waited till the rest had flown away, when he arose and seizing the damsel, carried her down from the terrace into the castle.” Her sisters asked, “Where is she?”; and she answered, “She is with him in such a chamber.” Quoth they, “Describe her to us, O our sister:” so quoth she, “She is fairer than the moon on the night of fullness and her face is sheenier than the sun; the dew of her lips is sweeter than honey and her shape is straighter and slenderer than the cane; one with eyes black as night and brow flower-white; a bosom jewel-bright, breasts like pomegranates twain and cheeks like apples twain, a waist with dimples overlain, a navel like a casket of ivory full of musk in grain, and legs like columns of alabastrine vein. She ravisheth all hearts with Nature-kohl’d eyne, and a waist slender-fine and hips of heaviest design and speech that heals all pain and pine: she is goodly of shape and sweet of smile, as she were the moon in fullest sheen and shine.” When the Princesses heard these praises, they turned to Hasan and said to him, “Show her to us.” So he arose with them, all love-distraught, and carrying them to the chamber wherein was the captive damsel, opened the door and entered, preceding the seven Princesses. Now when they saw her and noted her loveliness, they kissed the ground between her hands, marvelling at the fairness of her favour and the significance which showed her inner gifts, and said to her, “By Allah, O daughter of the Sovran Supreme, this is indeed a mighty matter: and haddest thou heard tell of this mortal among women thou haddest marvelled at him all thy days. Indeed, he loveth thee with passionate love; yet, O King’s daughter, he seeketh not lewdness, but desireth thee only in the way of lawful wedlock. Had we known that maids can do without men, we had impeached him from his intent, albeit he sent thee no messenger, but came to thee in person; and he telleth us he hath burnt the feather dress; else had we taken it from him.” Then one of them agreed with the Princess and becoming her deputy in the matter of the wedding contract, performed the marriage ceremony between them, whilst Hasan clapped palms with her, laying his hand in hers, and she wedded him to the damsel by consent; after which they celebrated her bridal feast, as beseemeth Kings’ daughters, and brought Hasan in to her. So he rose and rent the veil and oped the gate and pierced the forge1 and brake the seal, whereupon affection for her waxed in him and he redoubled in love and longing for her. Then, since he had gotten that which he sought, he gave himself joy and improvised these couplets,
“Thy shape’s temptation, eyes as Houri’s fain
And sheddeth Beauty’s sheen2 that radiance rare:
My glance portrayed thy glorious portraiture:
Rubies one-half and gems the third part were:
Musk made a fifth: a sixth was ambergris
The sixth a pearl but pearl without compare.
Eve never bare a daughter evening thee
Nor breathes thy like in
Khuld’s3 celestial air.
An thou would torture me ’tis wont of Love
And if thou pardon
’tis thy choice I swear:
Then, O world bright’ner and O end of wish!
Loss of thy charms who could in patience bear?”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan went in unto the King’s daughter and did away her maidenhead, he enjoyed her with exceeding joy and affection for her waxed in him and he redoubled in love-longing for her; so he recited the lines aforesaid. Now the Princesses were standing at the door and when they heard his verses, they said to her, “O King’s daughter, hearest thou the words of this mortal? How canst thou blame us, seeing that he maketh poetry for love of thee and indeed he hath so done a thousand times.”1 When she heard this she rejoiced and was glad and felt happy and Hasan abode with her forty2 days in all solace and delight, joyance and happiest plight, whilst the damsels renewed festivities for him every day and overwhelmed him with bounty and presents and rarities; and the King’s daughter became reconciled to her sojourn amongst them and forgot her kith and kin. At the end of the forty days, Hasan saw in a dream, one night, his mother mourning for him and indeed her bones were wasted and her body had waxed shrunken and her complexion had yellowed and her favour had changed the while he was in excellent case. When she saw him in this state, she said to him, “O my son, O Hasan, how is it that thou livest thy worldly life at thine ease and forgettest me? Look at my plight since thy loss! I do not forget thee, nor will my tongue cease to name thy name till I die; and I have made thee a tomb in my house, that I may never forget thee. Would Heaven I knew3 if I shall live, O my son, to see thee by my side and if we shall ever again foregather as we were.” Thereupon Hasan awoke from sleep, weeping and wailing, the tears railed down his cheeks like rain and he became mournful and melancholy; his tears dried not nor did sleep visit him, but he had no rest, and no patience was left to him. When he arose, the Princesses came in to him and gave him good-morrow and made merry with him as was their wont; but he paid no heed to them; so they asked his wife concerning his case and she said, “I ken not.” Quoth they, “Question him of his condition.” So she went up to him and said, “What aileth thee, O my lord?” Whereupon he moaned and groaned and told her what he had seen in his dream and repeated these two couplets,
“Indeed afflicted sore are we and all distraught,
Seeking for union; yet we find no way:
And Love’s calamities upon us grow
And Love though light with heaviest weight doth weigh.”
His wife repeated to the Princesses what he said and they, hearing the verses, had pity on him and said to him, “In Allah’s name, do as thou wilt, for we may not hinder thee from visiting thy mother; nay, we will help thee to thy wish by what means we may. But it behoveth that thou desert us not, but visit us, though it be only once a year.” And he answered, “To hear is to obey: be your behest on my head and eyes!” Then they arose forthright and making him ready victual for the voyage, equipped the bride for him with raiment and ornaments and everything of price, such as defy description, and they bestowed on him gifts and presents which pens of ready writers lack power to set forth. Then they beat the magical kettle-drum and up came the dromedaries from all sides. They chose of them such as could carry all the gear they had prepared; amongst the rest five-and-twenty chests of gold and fifty of silver; and, mounting Hasan and his bride on others, rode with them three days, wherein they accomplished a march of three months. Then they bade them farewell and addressed themselves to return; whereupon his sister, the youngest damsel, threw herself on Hasan’s neck and wept till she fainted. When she came to herself, she repeated these two couplets,
“Ne’er dawn the severance-day on any wise
That robs of sleep these heavy-lidded eyes.
From us and thee it hath fair union torn
It wastes our force and makes our forms its prize.”
Her verses finished she farewelled him, straitly charging him, whenas he should have come to his native land and have foregathered with his mother and set his heart at ease, to fail not of visiting her once in every six months and saying, “If aught grieve thee or thou fear aught of vexation, beat the Magian’s kettle-drum, whereupon the dromedaries shall come to thee; and do thou mount and return to us and persist not in staying away.” He swore thus to do and conjured them to go home. So they returned to the palace, mourning for their separation from him, especially the youngest, with whom no rest would stay nor would Patience her call obey, but she wept night and day. Thus it was with them; but as regards Hasan and his wife, they fared on by day and night over plain and desert site and valley and stony heights through noon-tide glare and dawn’s soft light; and Allah decreed them safety, so that they reached Bassorah-city without hindrance and made their camels kneel at the door of his house. Hasan then dismissed the dromedaries and, going up to the door to open it, heard his mother weeping and in a faint strain, from a heart worn with parting-pain and on fire with consuming bane, reciting these couplets,
“How shall he taste of sleep who lacks repose
Who wakes a-night when all in slumber wone?
He owned wealth and family and fame
Yet fared from house and home an exile lone:
Live coal beneath his4 ribs he bears for bane,
And mighty longing, mightier ne’er was known:
Passion hath seized him, Passion mastered him;
Yet is he constant while he maketh moan:
His case for Love proclaimeth aye that he,
(As prove his tears) is wretched, woebegone.”
When Hasan heard his mother weeping and wailing he wept also and knocked at the door a loud knock. Quoth she, “Who is at the door?”; and quoth he, “Open!” Whereupon she opened the door and knowing him at first sight fell down in a fainting fit; but he ceased not to tend her till she came to herself, when he embraced her and she embraced him and kissed him, whilst his wife looked on mother and son. Then he carried his goods and gear into the house, whilst his mother, for that her heart was comforted and Allah had reunited her with her son versified with these couplets,
“Fortune had ruth upon my plight
Pitied my long long bane and blight;
Gave me what I would liefest sight;
And set me free from all afright.
So pardon I the sin that sinnèd she in days evanisht quite;
E’en to the sin she sinned when she
Bleached my hair-parting silvern white.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 How strange this must sound to the Young Woman of London in the nineteenth century.
2 “Forty days” is a quasi-religious period amongst Moslem for praying, fasting and religious exercises: here it represents our “honey-moon.” See vol. v. p. 62.
3 Yá layta, still popular. Herr Carlo Landberg (Proverbes et Dictons du Peuple Arabe, vol. i. of Syria, Leyden, E. J. Brill, 1883) explains layta for rayta (=raayta) by permutation of liquids and argues that the contraction is ancient (p. 42). But the Herr is no Arabist: “Layta” means “would to Heaven,” or, simply “I wish,” “I pray” (for something possible or impossible); whilst “La’alla” (perhaps, it may be) prays only for the possible: and both are simply particles governing the noun in the oblique or accusative case.
4 “His” for “her,” i.e. herself, making somewhat of confusion between her state and that of her son.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Hasan with his mother then sat talking and she asked him, “How faredst thou, O my son, with the Persian?” whereto he answered, “O my mother, he was no Persian, but a Magian, who worshipped the fire, not the All-powerful Sire.” Then he told her how he dealt with him, in that he had journeyed with him to the Mountain of Clouds and sewed him up in the camel’s skin, and how the vultures had taken him up and set him down on the summit and what he had seen there of dead folk, whom the Magian had deluded and left to die on the crest after they had done his desire. And he told her how he had cast himself from the mountain-top into the sea and Allah the Most High had preserved him and brought him to the palace of the seven Princesses and how the youngest of them had taken him to brother and he had sojourned with them till the Almighty brought the Magian to the place where he was and he slew him. Moreover, he told her of his passion for the King’s daughter and how he had made prize of her and of his seeing her1 in sleep and all else that had befallen him up to the time when Allah vouchsafed them reunion. She wondered at his story and praised the Lord who had restored him to her in health and safety. Then she arose and examined the baggage and loads and questioned him of them. So he told her what was in them, whereat she joyed with exceeding joy. Then she went up to the King’s daughter, to talk with her and bear her company; but, when her eyes fell on her, her wits were confounded at her brilliancy and she rejoiced and marvelled at her beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace: and she sat down beside her, cheering her and comforting her heart while she never ceased to repeat “Alhamdolillah, O my son, for thy return to me safe and sound!” Next morning early she went down into the market and bought mighty fine furniture and ten suits of the richest raiment in the city, and clad the young wife and adorned her with everything seemiy. Then said she to Hasan, “O my son, we cannot tarry in this town with all this wealth; for thou knowest that we are poor folk and the people will suspect us of practising alchemy. So come, let us depart to Baghdad, the House2 of Peace, where we may dwell in the Caliph’s Sanctuary, and thou shalt sit in a shop to buy and sell, in the fear of Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) and He shall open to thee the door of blessings with this wealth.” Hasan approved her counsel and going forth straightway, sold the house and summoned the dromedaries, which he loaded with all his goods and gear, together with his mother and wife. Then he went down to the Tigris, where he hired him a craft to carry them to Baghdad and embarked therein all his possessions and his mother and wife. They sailed up the river with a fair wind for ten days till they drew in sight of Baghdad, at which they all rejoiced, and the ship landed them in the city, where without stay or delay Hasan hired a storehouse in one of the caravanserais and transported his goods thither. He lodged that night in the Khan, and on the morrow he changed his clothes and going down into the city, enquired for a broker. The folk directed him to one, and when the broker saw him, he asked him what he lacked. Quoth he, “I want a house, a handsome one and a spacious.” So the broker showed him the houses at his disposal and he chose one that belonged to one of the Wazirs and buying it of him for an hundred thousand golden dinars, gave him the price. Then he returned to his caravanserai and removed all his goods and monies to the house; after which he went down to the market and bought all the mansion needed of vessels and carpets and other household stuff, besides servants and eunuchs, including a little black boy for the house. He abode with his wife in all solace and delight of life three years, during which time he was vouchsafed by her two sons, one of whom he named Násir and the other Mansúr: but, at the end of this time he bethought him of his sisters, the Princesses, and called to mind all their goodness to him and how they had helped him to his desire. So he longed after them and going out to the marketstreets of the city, bought trinkets and costly stuffs and fruit-confections, such as they had never seen or known. His mother asked him the reason of his buying these rarities and he answered, “I purpose to visit my sisters, who showed me every kind of kindness and all the wealth that I at present enjoy is due to their goodness and munificence: wherefore I will journey to them and return soon, Inshallah!” Quoth she, “O my son, be not long absent from me;” and quoth he, “Know, O my mother, how thou shalt do with my wife. Here is her feather-dress in a chest, buried under ground in such a place; do thou watch over it, lest haply she hap on it and take it, for she would fly away, she and her children, and I should never hear of them again and should die of grieving for them; wherefore take heed, O my mother, while I warn thee that thou name this not to her. Thou must know that she is the daughter of a King of the Jinn, than whom there is not a greater among the Sovrans of the Jann nor a richer in troops and treasure, and she is mistress of her people and dearest to her father of all he hath. Moreover, she is passing high-spirited, so do thou serve her thyself and suffer her not to go forth the door neither look out of window nor over the wall, for I fear the air for her when it bloweth,3 and if aught befel her of the calamities of this world, I should slay myself for her sake.” She replied, “O my son, I take refuge with Allah4 from gainsaying thee! Am I mad that thou shouldst lay this charge on me and I disobey thee therein? Depart, O my son, with heart at ease, and please Allah, soon thou shalt return in safety and see her and she shall tell thee how I have dealt with her: but tarry not, O my son, beyond the time of travel.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. his mother; the words are not in the Mac. Edit.
2 Baghdad is called House of Peace, amongst other reasons, from the Dijlah (Tigris) River and Valley “of Peace.” The word was variously written Baghdád, Bághdád, (our old Bughdaud and Bagdat), Baghzáz, Baghzán, Baghdán, Baghzám and Maghdád as Makkah and Bakkah (Koran iii. 90). Religious Moslems held Bágh (idol) and Dád (gift) an ill-omened conjunction, and the Greeks changed it to Eirenopolis. (See Ouseley’s Oriental Collcctions, vol. i. pp. 18–20.)
3 This is a popular saying but hardly a “vulgar proverb.” (Lane iii. 522.) It reminds rather of Shakespear’s:
“So loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly.”
4 i.e. God forbid that I should oppose thee!
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan had determined to visit the Princesses, he gave his mother the orders we have mentioned.1 Now, as Fate would have it, his wife heard what he said to his mother and neither of them knew it. Then Hasan went without the city and beat the kettle-drum, whereupon up came the dromedaries and he loaded twenty of them with rarities of Al–Irak; after which he returned to his mother and repeated his charge to her and took leave of her and his wife and children, one of whom was a yearling babe and the other two years old. Then he mounted and fared on, without stopping night or day, over hills and valleys and plains and wastes for a term of ten days till, on the eleventh, he reached the palace and went in to his sisters, with the gifts he had brought them. The Princesses rejoiced at his sight and gave him joy of his safety, whilst his sister decorated the palace within and without. Then they took the presents and, lodging him in a chamber as before, asked him of his mother and his wife, and he told them that she had borne him two sons. And the youngest Princess, seeing him well and in good case, joyed with exceeding joy and repeated this couplet,
“I ever ask for news of you from whatso breezes pass
And never any but yourselves can pass across my mind.”
Then he abode with them in all honour and hospitality, for three months, spending his time in feasting and merrymaking, joy and delight, hunting and sporting. So fared it with him; but as regards his wife, she abode with his mother two days after her husband’s departure, and on the third day, she said to her, “Glory be to God! Have I lived with him three years and shall I never go to the bath?” Then she wept and Hasan’s mother had pity on her condition and said to her, “O my daughter, here we are strangers and thy husband is abroad. Were he at home, he would serve thee himself, but, as for me, I know no one. However, O my daughter, I will heat thee water and wash thy head in the Hammam-bath which is in the house.” Answered the King’s daughter, “O my lady, hadst thou spoken thus to one of the slave-girls, she had demanded to be sold in the Sultan’s open market and had not abode with thee.2 Men are excusable, because they are jealous and their reason telleth them that, if a woman go forth the house, haply she will do frowardness. But women, O my lady, are not all equal and alike and thou knowest that, if woman have a mind to aught, whether it be the Hammam or what not else, none hath power over her to guard her or keep her chaste or debar her from her desire; for she will do whatso she willeth and naught restraineth her but her reason and her religion.”3 Then she wept and cursed fate and bemoaned herself and her strangerhood, till Hasan’s mother was moved to ruth for her case and knew that all she said was but truth and that there was nothing for it but to let her have her way. So she committed the affair to Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and making ready all that they needed for the bath, took her and went with her to the Hammam. She carried her two little sons with her, and when they entered, they put off their clothes and all the women fell to gazing on the Princess and glorifying God (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) for that He had created so fair a form. The women of the city, even those who were passing by, flocked to gaze upon her, and the report of her was noised abroad in Baghdad till the bath was crowded that there was no passing through it. Now it chanced there was present on that day and on that rare occasion with the rest of the women in the Hammam, one of the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, by name Tohfah4 the Lutanist, and she, finding the Hammam over crowded and no passing for the throng of women and girls, asked what was to do; and they told her of the young lady. So she walked up to her and, considering her closely, was amazed at her grace and loveliness and glorified God (magnified be His majesty!) for the fair forms He hath created. The sight hindered her from her bath, so that she went not farther in nor washed, but sat staring at the Princess, till she had made an end of bathing and coming forth of the caldarium donned her raiment, whereupon beauty was added to her beauty. She sat down on the divan,5 whilst the women gazed upon her; then she looked at them and veiling herself, went out. Tohfah went out with her and followed her, till she saw where she dwelt, when she left her and returned to the Caliph’s palace; and ceased not wending till she went in to the Lady Zubaydah and kissed ground between her hands; whereupon quoth her mistress, “O Tohfah, why hast thou tarried in the Hammam?” She replied, “O my lady, I have seen a marvel, never saw I its like amongst men or women, and this it was that distracted me and dazed my wit and amazed me, so that I forgot even to wash my head.” Asked Zubaydah, “And what was that?”; and Tohfah answered, “O my lady, I saw a damsel in the bath, having with her two little boys like moons, eye never espied her like, nor before her nor after her, neither is there the fellow of her form in the whole world nor her peer amongst Ajams or Turks or Arabs. By the munificence, O my lady, an thou toldest the Commander of the Faithful of her, he would slay her husband and take her from him, for her like is not to be found among women. I asked of her mate and they told me that he is a merchant Hasan of Bassorah hight. Moreover, I followed her from the bath to her own house and found it to be that of the Wazir, with the two gates, one opening on the river and the other on the land.6 Indeed, O my lady, I fear lest the Prince of True Believers hear of her and break the law and slay her husband and take love-liesse with her.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here the writer again forgets apparently, that Shahrazad is speaking: she may, however, use the plural for the singular when speaking of herself.
2 i.e. She would have pleaded ill-treatment and lawfully demanded to be sold.
3 The Hindus speak of “the only bond that woman knows — her heart.”
4 i.e. a rarity, a present (especially in Persian).
5 Arab. “Al-bisát” wa’l-masnad lit. the carpet and the cushion.
6 For “Báb al-bahr” and “Báb al-Barr” see vol. iii. 281.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Tohfah, after seeing the King’s daughter, described her beauty to the Lady Zubaydah ending with, “Indeed, O my mistress, I fear lest the Prince of True Believers hear of her and break the law and slay her mate and take her to wife,” Zubaydah cried, “Woe to thee, O Tohfah, say me, doth this damsel display such passing beauty and loveliness that the Commander of the Faithful should, on her account, barter his soul’s good for his worldly lust and break the Holy Law! By Allah, needs must I look on her, and if she be not as thou sayest, I will bid strike off thy head! O strumpet, there are in the Caliph’s Serraglio three hundred and three score slave girls, after the number of the days of the year, yet is there none amongst them so excellent as thou describest!” Tohfah replied, “No, by Allah, O my lady!: nor is there her like in all Baghdad; no, nor amongst the Arabs or the Daylamites nor hath Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) created the like of her!” Thereupon Zuhaydah called for Masrur, the eunuch, who came and kissed the ground before her, and she said to him, “O Masrur, go to the Wazir’s house, that with the two gates, one giving on the water and the other on the land, and bring me the damsel who dwelleth there, also her two children and the old woman who is with her, and haste thou and tarry not.” Said Masrur, “I hear and I obey,” and repairing to Hasan’s house, knocked at the door. Quoth the old woman, “Who is at the door?” and quoth he, “Masrur, the eunuch of the Commander of the Faithful.” So she opened the door and he entered and saluted her with the salam; whereupon she returned his salute and asked his need; and he replied, “The Lady Zubaydah, daughter of Al–Kasim1 and queen-spouse of the Commander of the Faithful Harun al-Rashid sixth2 of the sons of Al–Abbas, paternal uncle of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and keep!) summoneth thee to her, thee and thy son’s wife and her children; for the women have told her anent her and her beauty.” Rejoined the old woman, “O my lord Masrur, we are foreigner folk and the girl’s husband (my son) who is abroad and far from home hath strictly charged me not to go forth nor let her go forth in his absence, neither show her to any of the creatures of Allah Almighty; and I fear me, if aught befal her and he come back, he will slay himself; wherefore of thy favour I beseech thee, O Masrur, require us not of that whereof we are unable.” Masrur retorted, “O my lady, if I knew aught to be feared for you in this, I would not require you to go; the Lady Zubaydah desireth but to see her and then she may return. So disobey not or thou wilt repent; and like as I take you, I will bring you both back in safety, Inshallah!” Hasan’s mother could not gainsay him; so she went in and making the damsel ready, brought her and her children forth and they all followed Masrur to the palace of the Caliphate where he carried them in and seated them on the floor before the Lady Zubaydah. They kissed ground before her and called down blessings upon her; and Zubaydah said to the young lady (who was veiled), “Wilt thou not uncover thy face, that I may look on it?” So she kissed the ground between her hands and discovered a face which put to shame the full moon in the height of heaven. Zubaydah fixed her eyes on her and let their glances wander over her, whilst the palace was illumined by the light of her countenance; whereupon the Queen and the whole company were amazed at her beauty and all who looked on her became Jinn-mad and unable to bespeak one another. As for Zubaydah, she rose and making the damsel stand up, strained her to her bosom and seated her by herself on the couch. Moreover, she bade decorate the palace in her honour and calling for a suit of the richest raiment and a necklace of the rarest ornaments put them upon her. Then said she to her, “O liege lady of fair ones, verily thou astoundest me and fillest mine eyes.3 What arts knowest thou?” She replied, “O my lady, I have a dress of feathers, and could I but put it on before thee, thou wouldst see one of the fairest of fashions and marvel thereat, and all who saw it would talk of its goodliness, generation after generation.” Zubaydah asked, “And where is this dress of thine?”; and the damsel answered, “’Tis with my husband’s mother. Do thou seek it for me of her.” So Zubaydah said to the old woman, “O my lady the pilgrimess, O my mother, go forth and fetch us her feather-dress, that we may solace ourselves by looking on what she will do, and after take it back again.” Replied the old woman, “O my lady, this damsel is a liar. Hast thou ever seen any of womankind with a dress of feathers? Indeed, this belongeth only to birds.” But the damsel said to the Lady Zubaydah, “As thou livest, O my lady, she hath a feather-dress of mine and it is in a chest, which is buried in such a store-closet in the house.” So Zubaydah took off her neck a rivière of jewels, worth all the treasures of Chosroe and Cæsar, and gave it to the old woman, saying, “O my mother, I conjure thee by my life, take this necklace and go and fetch us this dress, that we may divert ourselves with the sight thereof, and after take it again!” But she sware to her that she had never seen any such dress and wist not what the damsel meant by her speech. Then the Lady Zubaydah cried out at her and taking the key from her, called Masrur and said to him as soon as her came, “Take this key and go to the house; then open it and enter a store-closet there whose door is such and such and amiddlemost of it thou wilt find a chest buried. Take it out and break it open and bring me the feather-dress which is therein and set it before me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 She was the daughter of Ja’afar bin Mansúr; but, as will be seen, The Nights again and again called her father Al-Kásim.
2 This is an error for the fifth which occurs in the popular saying, “Is he the fifth of the sons of Al–Abbás!” i.e. Harun al-Rashid. Lane (note, in loco) thus accounts for the frequent mention of the Caliph, the greatest of the Abbasides in The Nights. But this is a causa non causa.
3 i.e. I find thy beauty all-sufficient. So the proverb “The son of the quarter (young neighbour) filleth not the eye,” which prefers a stranger.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Lady Zubaydah, having taken the key from Hasan’s mother, handed it to Masrur, saying, “Take this key and open such a closet; then bring forth of it the chest; break it open; bring me the feather-dress which is therein and set it before me.” “Hearkening and obedience,” replied he and taking the key went forth, whereupon the old woman arose and followed him, weeping-eyed and repenting her of having given ear to the damsel and gone with her to the bath, for her desire to go thither was but a device. So she went with him to the house and opened the door of the closet, and he entered and brought out the chest. Then he took therefrom the feather,dress and wrapping it in a napkin, carried it to the Lady Zubaydah, who took it and turned it about, marvelling at the beauty of its make; after which she gave it to the damsel, saying, “Is this thy dress of feathers?” She replied, “Yes, O my lady,” and at once putting forth her hand, took it joyfully. Then she examined it and rejoiced to find it whole as it was, not a feather gone. So she rose and came down from beside the Lady Zubaydah and taking her sons in her bosom, wrapped herself in the feather-dress and became a bird, by the ordinance of Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!), whereat Zubaydah marvelled as did all who were present. Then she walked with a swaying and graceful gait and danced and sported and flapped her wings, whilst all eyes were fixed on her and all marvelled at what she did. Then said she with fluent tongue, “Is this goodly, O my ladies?”; and they replied, “Yes, O Princess of the fair! All thou dost is goodly.” Said she, “And this, O my mistresses, that I am about to do is better yet.” Then she spread her wings and flying up with her children to the dome of the palace, perched on the saloon-roof whilst they all looked at her, wide-eyed and said, “By Allah, this is indeed a rare and peregrine fashion! Never saw we its like.” Then, as she was about to take flight for her own land, she bethought her of Hasan and said, “Hark ye, my mistresses!” and she improvised these couplets,1
“O who bast quitted these abodes and faredst lief and light
To other objects of thy love with fain and fastest flight!
Deem’st thou that ‘bided I with you in solace and in joy
Or that my days amid you all were clear of bane and blight?
When I was captive ta’en of Love and snarèd in his snare,
He made of Love my prison and he fared fro’ me forthright:
So when my fear was hidden, he made sure that ne’er should I
Pray to the One, th’ Omnipotent to render me my right:
He charged his mother keep the secret with all the care she could,
In closet shut and treated me with enemy’s despight:
But I o’erheard their words and held them fast in memory
And hoped for fortune fair and weal and blessings infinite:
My faring to the Hammam-bath then proved to me the means
Of making minds of folk to be confounded at my sight:
Wondered the Bride of Al–Rashid to see my brilliancy
When she beheld me right and left with all of beauty dight:
Then quoth I, ‘O our Caliph’s wife, I once was wont to own
A dress of feathers rich and rare that did the eyes delight:
An it were now on me thou shouldst indeed see wondrous things
That would efface all sorrows and disperse all sores of sprite:’
Then deigned our Caliph’s Bride to cry, ‘Where is that dress of thine?’
And I replied, ‘In house of him kept darkling as the night.’
So down upon it pounced Masrúr and brought it unto her,
And when ’twas there each feather cast a ray of beaming light:
Therewith I took it from his hand and opened it straightway
And saw its plumèd bosom and its buttons pleased my sight:
And so I clad myself therein and took with me my babes;
And spread my wings and flew away with all my main and might;
Saying, ‘O husband’s mother mine tell him when cometh he
An ever wouldest meet her thou from house and home must flee.”’
When she had made an end of her verses, the Lady Zubaydah said to her, “Wilt thou not come down to us, that we may take our fill of thy beauty, O fairest of the fair? Glory be to Him who hath given thee eloquence and brilliance!” But she said, “Far be from me that the Past return should see!” Then said she to the mother of the hapless, wretched Hasan, “By Allah, O my lady, O mother of my husband, it irketh me to part from thee; but, whenas thy son cometh to thee and upon him the nights of severance longsome shall be and he craveth reunion and meeting to see and whenas breezes of love and longing shake him dolefully, let him come in the islands of Wák2 to me.” Then she took flight with her children and sought her own country, whilst the old woman wept and beat her face and moaned and groaned till she swooned away. When she came to herself, she said to the Lady Zubaydah, “O my lady, what is this thou hast done?” And Zubaydah said to her, “O my lady the pilgrimess, I knew not that this would happen and hadst thou told me of the case and acquainted me with her condition, I had not gainsaid thee. Nor did I know until now that she was of the Flying Jinn; else had I not suffered her to don the dress nor permitted her to take her children: but now, O my lady, words profit nothing; so do thou acquit me of offence against thee.” And the old woman could do no otherwise than shortly answer, “Thou art acquitted.!” Then she went forth the palace of the Caliphate and returned to her own house, where she buffeted her face till she swooned away, When she came to herself, she pined for her daughter-in-law and her grandchildren and for the sight of her son and versified with these couplets,
“Your faring on the parting-day drew many a tear fro’ me,
Who must your flying from the home long mourn in misery:
And cried I for the parting pang in anguish likest fire
And tear-floods chafed mine eyelids sore that ne’er of tears were free;
‘Yes, this is Severance, Ah, shall we e’er oy return of you?
For your departure hath deprived my power of privacy!’
Ah, would they had returned to me in covenant of faith
An they return perhaps restore of past these eyne may see.”
Then arising she dug in the house three graves and betook herself to them with weeping all whiles of the day and watches of the night; and when her son’s absence was longsome upon her and grief and yearning and unquiet waxed upon her, she recited these couplets,
“Deep in mine eye-balls ever dwells the phantom-form of thee
My heart when throbbing or at rest holds fast thy memory:
And love of thee doth never cease to course within my breast,
As course the juices in the fruits which deck the branchy tree:
And every day I see thee not my bosom straightened is
And even censurers excuse the woes in me they see:
O thou whose love hath gotten hold the foremost in the heart
Of me whose fondness is excelled by mine insanity:
Fear the Compassionate in my case and some compassion show!
Love of thee makes me taste of death in bitterest pungency.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 They are mere doggerel, like most of the pieces de circonstance.
2 Afterwards called Wák Wák, and in the Bresl. Edit. Wák al-Wák. See Lane’s notes upon these Islands. Arab Geographers evidently speak of two Wak Waks. Ibn al-Fakih and Al–Mas’údi (Fr. Transl., vol. iii. 6–7) locate one of them in East Africa beyond Zanzibar and Sofala. “Le territoire des Zendjes (Zanzibar–Negroids) commence au canal (Al–Khalij) dérivé du haut Nil (the Juln River?) et se prolonge jusqu’au pays de Sofalah et des Wak–Wak.” It is simply the peninsula of Guardafui (Jard Hafun) occupied by the Gallas, pagans and Christians, before these were ousted by the Moslem Somal; and the former perpetually ejaculated “Wak” (God) as Moslems cry upon Allah. This identification explains a host of other myths such as the Amazons, who as Marco Polo tells us held the “Female Island” Socotra (Yule ii. 396). The fruit which resembled a woman’s head (whence the puelloe Wakwakienses hanging by the hair from trees), and which when ripe called out “Wak Wak” and “Allah al-Khallák” (the Creator) refers to the Calabash-tree (Adausonia digitata), that grotesque growth, a vegetable elephant, whose gourds, something larger than a man’s head, hang by a slender filament. Similarly the “cocoa” got its name, in Port. = Goblin, from the fancied face at one end. The other Wak Wak has been identified in turns with the Seychelles, Madagascar, Malacca, Sunda or Java (this by Langlès), China and Japan. The learned Prof. de Goeje (Arabishe Berichten over Japan, Amsterdam, Muller, 1880) informs us that in Canton the name of Japan is Wo–Kwok, possibly a corruption of Koku-tan, the ebony-tree (Diospyros ebenum) which Ibn Khor-dábah and others find together with gold in an island 4,500 parasangs from Suez and East of China. And we must remember that Basrah was the chief starting-place for the Celestial Empire during the rule of the Tang dynasty (seventh and ninth centuries). Colonel J. W. Watson of Bombay suggests New Guinea or the adjacent islands where the Bird of Paradise is said to cry “Wak Wak!” Mr. W. F. Kirby in the Preface (p. ix.) to his neat little book “The New Arabian Nights,” says: “The Islands of Wak–Wak, seven years’ journey from Bagdad, in the story of Hasan, have receded to a distance of a hundred and fifty years’ journey in that of Majin (of Khorasan). There is no doubt(?) that the Cora Islands, near New Guinea, are intended; for the wonderful fruits which grow there are Birds of Paradise, which settle in flocks on the trees at sunset and sunrise, uttering this very cry.” Thus, like Ophir, Wak Wak has wandered all over the world and has been found even in Peru by the Turkish work Tárikh al-Hind al-Gharbi = History of the West Indies (Orient. Coll. iii 189).
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Hasan’s mother bewept through the watches of the night and the whiles of the day her separation from her son and his wife and children. On this wise it fared with her; but as regards Hasan, when he came to the Princesses, they conjured him to tarry with them three months, after which long sojourn they gave him five loads of gold and the like of silver and one load of victual and accompanied him on his homeward way till he conjured them to return, whereupon they farewelled him with an embrace; but the youngest came up to him, to bid him adieu and clasping his neck wept till she fainted. Then she recited these two couplets,
“When shall the severance-fire be quenched by union, love, with you?
When shall I win my wish of you and days that were renew?
The parting-day affrighted me and wrought me dire dismay
And doubleth woe, O master mine, by the sad word ‘Adieu.’”
Anon came forward the second Princess and embraced him and recited these two couplets,
“Farewelling thee indeed is like to bidding life farewell
And like the loss of Zephyr1 ’tis to lose thee far our sight:
Thine absence is a flaming fire which burneth up my heart
And in thy presence I enjoy the Gardens of Delight.”2
Presently came forward the third and embraced him and recited these two couplets,
“We left not taking leave of thee (when bound to other goal)
From aught of ill intention or from weariness and dole:
Thou art my soul, my very soul, the only soul of me:
And how shall I farewell myself and say, ‘Adieu my Soul?’”3
After her came forward the fourth and embraced him and recited these two couplets,
“Nought garred me weep save where and when of severance spake he,
Persisting in his cruel will with sore persistency: Look at this pearl-like ornament I’ve hung upon mine ear:
’Tis of the tears of me compact, this choicest jewelry!”
In her turn came forward the fifth and embraced him and recited these two couplets,
“Ah, fare thee not; for I’ve no force thy faring to endure,
Nor e’en to say the word farewell before my friend is sped:
Nor any patience to support the days of severance,
Nor any tears on ruined house and wasted home to shed.”
Next came the sixth and embraced him and recited these two couplets,
“I cried, as the camels went off with them,
And Love pained my vitals with sorest pain:
Had I a King who would lend me rule
I’d seize every ship that dares sail the Main.”
Lastly came forward the seventh and embraced him and recited these couplets,
“When thou seest parting, be patient still,
Nor let foreign parts deal thy soul affright:
But abide, expecting a swift return,
For all hearts hold parting in sore despight.”
And eke these two couplets,
“Indeed I’m heartbroken to see thee start,
Nor can I farewell thee ere thou depart;
Allah wotteth I left not to say adieu
Save for fear that saying would melt your heart.”
Hasan also wept for parting from them, till he swooned, and repeated these couplets,
“Indeed, ran my tears on the severance-day
Like pearls I threaded in necklace-way
The cameleer drove his camels with song
But I lost heart, patience and strength and stay:
I bade them farewell and retired in grief
From tryst-place and camp where my dearlings lay:
I turned me unknowing the way nor joyed
My soul, but in hopes to return some day.
Oh listen, my friend, to the words of love
God forbid thy heart forget all I say!
O my soul when thou partest wi’ them, part too
With all joys of life nor for living pray!”
Then he farewelled them and fared on diligently night and day, till he came to Baghdad, the House of Peace and Sanctuary of the Abbaside Caliphs, unknowing what had passed during his wayfare. At once entering his house he went in to his mother to salute her, but found her worn of body and wasted of bones, for excess of mourning and watching, weeping and wailing, till she was grown thin as a toothpick and could not answer him a word. So he dismissed the dromedaries then asked her of his wife and children and she wept till she fainted, and he seeing her in this state searched the house for them, but found no trace of them. Then he went to the store-closet and finding it open and the chest broken and the feather-dress missing, knew forthright that his wife had possessed herself thereof and flown away with her children. Then he returned to his mother and, finding her recovered from her fit, questioned her of his spouse and babes, whereupon she wept and said, “O my son, may Allah amply requite thee their loss! These are their three tombs.”4 When Hasan heard these words of his mother, he shrieked a loud shriek and fell down in a fainting-fit in which he lay from the first of the day till noon-tide; whereupon anguish was added to his mother’s anguish and she despaired of his life. However, after a-while, he came to himself and wept and buffeted his face and rent his raiment and went about the house clean distraught, reciting these two couplets,5
“Folk have made moan of passion before me, of past years,
And live and dead for absence have suffered pains and fears;
But that within my bosom I harbour, with mine eyes
I’ve never seen the like of nor heard with mine ears.”
Then finishing his verses he bared his brand and coming up to his mother, said to her, “Except thou tell me the truth of the case, I will strike off thy head and kill myself.” She replied, “O my son, do not such deed: put up thy sword and sit down, till I tell thee what hath passed.” So he sheathed his scymitar and sat by her side, whilst she recounted to him all that had happened in his absence from first to last, adding, “O my son, but that I saw her weep in her longing for the bath and feared that she would go and complain to thee on thy return, and thou wouldst be wroth with me. I had never carried her thither; and were it not that the Lady Zubaydah was wroth with me and took the key from me by force, I had never brought out the feather-dress, though I died for it. But thou knowest, O my son, that no hand may measure length with that of the Caliphate. When they brought her the dress, she took it and turned it over, fancying that somewhat might be lost thereof, but she found it uninjured; wherefore she rejoiced and making her children fast to her waist, donned the feather-vest, after the Lady Zubaydah had pulled off to her all that was upon herself and clad her therein, in honour of her and because of her beauty. No sooner had she donned the dress than she shook and becoming a bird, promenaded about the palace, whilst all who were present gazed at her and marvelled at her beauty and loveliness. Then she flew up to the palace roof and perching thereon, looked at me and said: ‘Whenas thy son cometh to thee and the nights of separation upon him longsome shall be and he craveth reunion and meeting to see and whenas the breezes of love and longing shake him dolefully let him leave his native land and journey to the Islands of Wak and seek me.’ This, then, is her story and what befel in thine absence.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 I accept the emendation of Lane’s Shaykh, “Nasím ” (Zephyr) for “Nadím “ (cup-companion).
2 “Jannat al-Ná’im” = Garden of Delights is No. V Heaven, made of white diamond.
3 This appears to her very prettily put.
4 This is the “House of Sadness” of our old chivalrous Romances. See chapt. vi. of “Palmerin of England,” by Francisco de Moraes (ob. 1572), translated by old Anthony Munday (dateless, 1590?) and “corrected” (read spoiled) by Robert Southey, London, Longmans, 1807.
5 The lines have occurred in Night clix. (vol. iii. 183), I quote Mr. Payne who, like Lane, prefers “in my bosom” to “beneath my ribs.”
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that as soon as Hasan’s mother had made an end of her story, he gave a great cry and fell down in a fainting fit which continued till the end of day, when he revived and fell to buffeting his face and writhing on the floor like a scotched snake. His mother sat weeping by his head until midnight, when he came to himself and wept sore and recited these couplets’,1
“Pause ye and see his sorry state since when ye fain withdrew;
Haply, when wrought your cruelty, you’ll have the grace to rue:
For an ye look on him, you’ll doubt of him by sickness-stress
As though, by Allah, he were one before ye never knew.
He dies for nothing save for love of you, and he would be
Numbered amid the dead did not he moan and groan for you.
And deem not pangs of severance sit all lightly on his soul;
’Tis heavy load on lover-wight; ’twere lighter an ye slew.”
Then having ended his verse he rose and went round about the house, weeping and wailing, groaning and bemoaning himself, five days, during which he tasted nor meat nor drink. His mother came to him and conjured him, till he broke his fast, and besought him to leave weeping; but he hearkened not to her and continued to shed tears and lament, whilst she strove to comfort him and he heeded her not. Then he recited these couplets,2
“Beareth for love a burden sore this soul of me,
Could break a mortal’s back however strong that be;
I am distraught to see my case and languor grows
Making my day and night indifferent in degree:
I own to having dreaded Death before this day:
This day I hold my death mine only remedy.”
And Hasan ceased not to do thus till daybreak, when his eyes closed and he saw in a dream his wife grief-full and repentant for that which she had done. So he started up from sleep crying out and reciting these two couplets,
“Their image bides with me, ne’er quits me, ne’er shall fly;
But holds within my heart most honourable stead;
But for reunion-hope, I’d see me die forthright,
And but for phantom-form of thee my sleep had fled.”
And as morning morrowed he redoubled his lamentations. He abode weeping-eyed and heavy-hearted, wakeful by night and eating little, for a whole month, at the end of which he bethought him to repair to his sisters and take counsel with them in the matter of his wife, so haply they might help him to regain her. Accordingly he summoned the dromedaries and loading fifty of them with rarities of Al–Irak, committed the house to his mother’s care and deposited all his goods in safe keeping, except some few he left at home. Then he mounted one of the beasts and set out on his journey single handed, intent upon obtaining aidance from the Princesses, and he stayed not till he reached the Palace of the Mountain of Clouds, when he went in to the damsels and gave them the presents in which they rejoiced. Then they wished him joy of his safety and said to him, “O our brother, what can ail thee to come again so soon, seeing thou wast with us but two months since?” Whereupon he wept and improvised these couplets,
“My soul for loss of lover sped I sight;
Nor life enjoying neither life’s delight:
My case is one whose cure is all unknown;
Can any cure the sick but doctor wight?
O who hast reft my sleep-joys, leaving me
To ask the breeze that blew from that fair site —
Blew from my lover’s land (the land that owns
Those charms so sore a grief in soul excite),
‘O breeze, that visitest her land, perhaps
Breathing her scent, thou mayst revive my sprite!’”
And when he ended his verse he gave a great cry and fell down in a fainting-fit. The Princesses sat round him, weeping over him, till he recovered and repeated these two couplets,
“Haply and happily may Fortune bend her rein
Bringing my love, for Time’s a freke of jealous strain;3
Fortune may prosper me, supply mine every want,
And bring a blessing where before were ban and bane.”
Then he wept till he fainted again, and presently coming to himself recited the two following couplets,
“My wish, mine illness, mine unease! by Allah, own
Art thou content? then I in love contented wone!
Dost thou forsake me thus sans crime or sin
Meet me in ruth, I pray, and be our parting gone.”
Then he wept till he swooned away once more and when he revived he repeated these couplets,
“Sleep fled me, by my side wake ever shows
And hoard of tear-drops from these eyne aye flows;
For love they weep with beads cornelian-like
And growth of distance greater dolence grows:
Lit up my longing, O my love, in me
Flames burning ‘neath my ribs with fiery throes!
Remembering thee a tear I never shed
But in it thunder roars and leven glows.”
Then he wept till he fainted away a fourth time, and presently recovering, recited these couplets,
“Ah! for lowe of love and longing suffer ye as suffer we?
Say, as pine we and as yearn we for you are pining ye?
Allah do the death of Love, what a bitter draught is his!
Would I wot of Love what plans and what projects nurseth he!
Your faces radiant-fair though afar from me they shine,
Are mirrored in our eyes whatsoever the distance be;
My heart must ever dwell on the memories of your tribe;
And the turtle-dove reneweth all as oft as moaneth she:
Ho thou dove, who passest night-tide in calling on thy fere,
Thou doublest my repine, bringing grief for company;
And leavest thou mine eyelids with weeping unfulfilled
For the dearlings who departed, whom we never more may see:
I melt for the thought of you at every time and hour,
And I long for you when Night showeth cheek of blackest blee.”
Now when his sister heard these words and saw his condition and how he lay fainting on the floor, she screamed and beat her face and the other Princesses hearing her scream came out and learning his misfortune and the transport of love and longing and the passion and distraction that possessed him they questioned him of his case. He wept and told them what had befallen in his absence and how his wife had taken flight with her children, wherefore they grieved for him and asked him what she said at leave-taking. Answered he, “O my sisters, she said to my mother, ‘Tell thy son, whenas he cometh to thee and the nights of sever — ance upon him longsome shall be and he craveth reunion and meeting to see, and whenas the winds of love and longing shake him dolefully, let him fare in the Islands of Wak to me.” When they heard his words they signed one to other with their eyes and shook their heads, and each looked at her sister, whilst Hasan looked at them all. Then they bowed their heads groundwards and bethought themselves awhile; after which they raised their heads and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”; presently adding, “Put forth thy hand to heaven and when thou reach thither, then shalt thou win to thy wife. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In this tale the Bresl. Edit. more than once adds “And let us and you send a blessing to the Lord of Lords” (or to “Mohammed,” or to the “Prophet”); and in vol. v. p. 52 has a long prayer. This is an act of contrition in the tale-teller for romancing against the expressed warning of the Founder of Al–Islam.
2 From Bresl. Edit. (vi. 29): the four in the Mac. Edit. are too irrelevant.
3 Arab. “Ghayúr”— jealous, an admirable epithet which Lane dilutes to “changeable”— making a truism of a metaphor.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Princesses said to Hasan, “Put forth thy hand to Heaven and when thou reach thither, then shalt thou win to wife and children,” thereat the tears ran down his cheeks like rain and wet his clothes, and he recited these couplets,
“Pink cheeks and eyes enpupil’d black have dealt me sore despight;
And whenas wake overpowered sleep my patience fled in fright:
The fair and sleek-limbed maidens hard of heart withal laid waste
My very bones till not a breath is left for man to sight: Houris, who fare with gait of grace as roes o’er sandy-mound:
Did Allah’s saints behold their charms they’d doat thereon forthright;
Faring as fares the garden breeze that bloweth in the dawn.
For love of them a sore unrest and troubles rack my sprite:
I hung my hopes upon a maid, a loveling fair of them,
For whom my heart still burns with lowe in Lazá-hell they light; —
A dearling soft of sides and haught and graceful in her gait,
Her grace is white as morning, but her hair is black as night:
She stirreth me! But ah, how many heroes have her cheeks
Upstirred for love, and eke her eyes that mingle black and white.”
Then he wept, whilst the Princesses wept for his weeping, and they were moved to compassion and jealousy for him. So they fell to comforting him and exhorting him to patience and offering up prayers for his reunion with his wife; whilst his sister said to him, “O my brother, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear and be patient; so shalt thou win thy will; for whoso hath patience and waiteth, that he seeketh attaineth. Patience holdeth the keys of relief and indeed the poet saith,
‘Let destiny with slackened rein its course appointed fare!
And lie thou down to sleep by night, with heart devoid of care;
For ‘twixt the closing of an eye and th’ opening thereof,
God hath it in His power to change a case from foul to fair.”1
So hearten thy heart and brace up thy resolve, for the son of ten years dieth not in the ninth.2 Weeping and grief and mourning gender sickness and disease; wherefore do thou abide with us till thou be rested, and I will devise some device for thy winning to thy wife and children, Inshallah — so it please Allah the Most High!” And he wept sore and recited these verses,
“An I be healed of disease in frame,
I’m unhealed of illness in heart and sprite:
There is no healing disease of love,
Save lover and loved one to re-unite.”
Then he sat down beside her and she proceeded to talk with him and comfort him and question him of the cause and the manner of his wife’s departure. So he told her and she said, “By Allah, O my brother, I was minded to bid thee burn the feather-dress, but Satan made me forget it.” She ceased not to converse with him and caress him and company with him other ten days, whilst sleep visited him not and he delighted not in food; and when the case was longsome upon him and unrest waxed in him, he versified with these couplets,
“A beloved familiar o’erreigns my heart
And Allah’s ruling reigns evermore:
She hath all the Arab’s united charms
This gazelle who feeds on my bosom’s core.
Though my skill and patience for love of her fail,
I weep whilst I wot that ’tis vain to deplore.
The dearling hath twice seven years, as though
She were moon of five nights and of five plus four.”3
When the youngest Princess saw him thus distracted for love and longing for passion and the fever-heat of desire, she went in to her sisterhood weeping-eyed and woeful-hearted, and shedding copious tears threw herself upon them, kissed their feet and besought them to devise some device for bringing Hasan to the Islands of Wak and effecting his reunion with his wife and wees. She ceased not to conjure them to further her brother in the accomplishment of his desire and to weep before them, till she made them weep and they said to her, “Hearten thy heart: we will do our best endeavour to bring about his reunion with his family, Inshallah!” And he abode with them a whole year, during which his eyes never could retain their tears. Now the sisterhood had an uncle, brother-german to their sire and his name was Abd al-Kaddús, or Slave of the Most Holy; and he loved the eldest with exceeding love and was wont to visit her once a year and do all she desired. They had told him of Hasan’s adventure with the Magian and how he had been able to slay him; whereat he rejoiced and gave the eldest Princess a pouch4 which contained certain perfumes, saying, “O daughter of my brother, an thou be in concern for aught, or if aught irk thee, or thou stand in any need, cast of these perfumes upon fire naming my name and I will be with thee forthright and will do thy desire.” This speech was spoken on the first of Moharram5; and the eldest Princess said to one of the sisterhood, “Lo, the year is wholly past and my uncle is not come. Rise, bring me the fire-sticks and the box of perfumes.” So the damsel arose rejoicing and, fetching what she sought, laid it before her sister, who opened the box and taking thence a little of the perfume, cast it into the fire naming her unde’s name; nor was it burnt out ere appeared a dust-cloud at the farther end of the Wady; and presently lifting, it discovered a Shaykh riding on an elephant, which moved at a swift and easy pace, and trumpeted under the rider. As soon as he came within sight of the Princesses, he began making signs to them with his hands and feet; nor was it long ere he reached the castle and, alighting from the elephant, came in to them, whereupon they embraced him and kissed his hands and saluted him with the salam. Then he sat down, whilst the girls talked with him and questioned him of his absence. Quoth he, “I was sitting but now with my wife, your aunt, when I smelt the perfumes and hastened to you on this elephant. What wouldst thou, O daughter of my brother?” Quoth she, “O uncle, indeed we longed for thee, as the year is past and ’tis not thy wont to be absent from us more than a twelvemonth.” Answered he, “I was busy, but I purposed to come to you to-morrow.” Wherefore they thanked him and blessed him and sat talking with him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These lines have occurred before. I quote Mr. Payne.
2 i.e. One fated to live ten years.
3 This poetical way of saying “fourteen” suggests Camoens (The Lusiads) Canto v. 2.
4 Arab. “Surrah,” lit. = a purse: a few lines lower down it is called “‘Ulbah” = a box which, of course, may have contained the bag.
5 The month which begins the Moslem year.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the girls sat down to chat with their uncle the eldest said to him “O my uncle, we told thee the tale of Hasan of Bassorah, whom Bahram the Magian brought and how he slew the wizard and how, after enduring all manner of hardships and horrors, he made prize of the Supreme King’s daughter and took her to wife and journeyed with her to his native land?” Replied he, “Yes, and what befel him after that?” Quoth the Princess, “She played him false after he was blest with two sons by her; for she took them in his absence and fled with them to her own country, saying to his mother: ‘Whenas thy son returneth to thee and asketh for me and upon him the nights of severance longsome shall be and he craveth reunion and meeting to see and whenas the breezes of love and longing shake him dolefully, let him come in the Islands of Wak to me.’” When Abd al-Kaddus heard this, he shook his head and bit his forefinger; then, bowing his brow groundwards he began to make marks on the earth with his finger-tips;1 after which he again shook his head and looked right and left and shook his head a third time, whilst Hasan watched him from a place where he was hidden from him. Then said the Princesses to their uncle, “Return us some answer, for our hearts are rent in sunder.” But he shook his head at them, saying, “O my daughters, verily hath this man wearied himself in vain and cast himself into grievous predicament and sore peril; for he may not gain access to the Islands of Wak.” With this the Princesses called Hasan, who came forth and, advancing to Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus, kissed his hand and saluted him. The old man rejoiced in him and seated him by his side; whereupon quoth the damsels, “O uncle, acquaint our brother Hasan with that thou hast told us.” So he said to Hasan, “O my son, put away from thee this peine forte et dure; for thou canst never gain access to the Islands of Wak, though the Flying Jinn and the Wandering Stars were with thee; for that betwixt thee and these islands are seven Wadys and seven seas and seven mighty mountains. How then canst thou come at this stead and who shall bring thee thither? Wherefore, Allah upon thee, O my son, do thou reckon thy spouse and sons as dead and turn back forthright and weary not thy sprite! Indeed, I give thee good counsel, an thou wilt but accept it.” Hearing these words from the Shaykh, Hasan wept till he fainted, and the Princesses sat round him, weeping for his weeping, whilst the youngest sister rent her raiment and buffeted her face, till she swooned away. When Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus saw them in this transport of grief and trouble and mourning, he was moved to ruth for them and cried, “Be ye silent!” Then said he to Hasan, “O my son, hearten thy heart and rejoice in the winning of thy wish, an it be the will of Allah the Most High;” presently adding, “Rise, O my son, take courage and follow me.” So Hasan arose forthright and after he had taken leave of the Princesses followed him, rejoicing in the fulfilment of his wish. Then the Shaykh called the elephant and mounting, took Hasan up behind him and fared on three days with their nights, like the blinding leven, till he came to a vast blue mountain, whose stones were all of azure hue and amiddlemost of which was a cavern, with a door of Chinese iron. Here he took Hasan’s hand and let him down and alighting dismissed the elephant. Then he went up to the door and knocked, whereupon it opened and there came out to him a black slave, hairless, as he were an Ifrit, with brand in right hand and targe of steel in left. When he saw Abd al-Kaddus, he threw sword and buckler from his grip and coming up to the Shaykh kissed his hand. Thereupon the old man took Hasan by the hand and entered with him, whilst the slave shut the door behind them; when Hasan found himself in a vast cavern and a spacious, through which ran an arched corridor and they ceased not faring on therein a mile or so, till it abutted upon a great open space and thence they made for an angle of the mountain wherein were two huge doors cast of solid brass. The old man opened one of them and said to Hasan, “Sit at the door, whilst I go within and come back to thee in haste, and beware lest thou open it and enter.” Then he fared inside and, shutting the door after him, was absent during a full sidereal hour, after which he returned, leading a black stallion, thin of flank and short of nose, which was ready bridled and saddled, with velvet housings; and when it ran it flew, and when it flew, the very dust in vain would pursue; and brought it to Hasan, saying, “Mount!” So he mounted and Abd al-Kaddus opened the second door, beyond which appeared a vast desert. Then the twain passed through the door into that desert and the old man said to him, “O my son, take this scroll and wend thou whither this steed will carry thee. When thou seest him stop at the door of a cavern like this, alight and throw the reins over the saddle-bow and let him go. He will enter the cavern, which do thou not enter with him, but tarry at the door five days, without being weary of waiting. On the sixth day there will come forth to thee a black Shaykh, clad all in sable, with a long white beard, flowing down to his navel. As soon as thou seest him, kiss his hands and seize his skirt and lay it on thy head and weep before him, till he take pity on thee and he will ask thee what thou wouldst have. When he saith to thee, ‘What is thy want?’ give him this scroll which he will take without speaking and go in and leave thee. Wait at the door other five days, without wearying, and on the sixth day expect him; and if he come out to thee himself, know that thy wish will be won, but, if one of his pages come forth to thee, know that he who cometh forth to thee, purposeth to kill thee; and — the Peace!2 For know, O my son, that whoso self imperilleth doeth himself to death;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 As an Arab often does when deep in thought. Lane appositely quotes John viii. 6. “Jonas stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground.” Mr. Payne translates, “He fell a-drumming on the earth with his fingers,” but this does not complete the sense.
2 i.e.“And the peace of Allah be upon thee! that will end thy story.” The Arab formula, “Wa al-Salám” (pron. Wassalám) is used in a variety of senses.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after handing the scroll to Hasan, Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus told him what would befal him and said, “Whoso self imperilleth doeth himself to death; but also who ventureth naught advantageth naught. However an thou fear for thy life, cast it not into danger of destruction; but, an thou fear not, up and do thy will, for I have expounded to thee the whole case. Yet shouldest thou be minded to return to thy friends, the elephant is still here and he will carry thee to my nieces, who will restore thee to thy country and return thee to thy home, and Allah will vouchsafe thee a better than this girl, of whom thou art enamoured.” Hasan answered the Shaykh, saying, “And how shall life be sweet to me, except I win my wish? By Allah, I will never turn back, till I regain my beloved or my death overtake me!” And he wept and recited these couplets,
“For loss of lover mine and stress of love I dree,
I stood bewailing self in deep despondency.
Longing for him, the Spring-camp’s dust I kissed and kissed,
But this bred more of grief and galling reverie.
God guard the gone, who in our hearts must e’er abide
With nearing woes and joys which still the farther flee.
They say me, ‘Patience!’ But they bore it all away:
On parting-day, and left me naught save tormentry.
And naught affrighted me except the word he said,
‘Forget me not when gone nor drive from memory.’
To whom shall turn I? hope in whom when you are lost?
Who were my only hopes and joys and woes of me?
But ah, the pang of home-return when parting thus!
How joyed at seeing me return mine enemy.
Then well-away! this ’twas I guarded me against!
And ah, thou lowe of Love double thine ardency!1
An fled for aye my friends I’ll not survive the flight;
Yet an they deign return, Oh joy! Oh ecstacy!
Never, by Allah tears and weeping I’ll contain
For loss of you, but tears on tears and tears will rain.”
When Abd al-Kaddus heard his verse he knew that he would not turn back from his desire nor would words have effect on him, and was certified that naught would serve him but he must imperil himself, though it lose him his life. So he said to him, “Know, O my son, that the Islands of Wak are seven islands, wherein is a mighty host, all virgin girls, and the Inner Isles are peopled by Satans and Marids and warlocks and various tribesmen of the Jinn; and whoso entereth their land never returneth thence; at least none hath done so to this day. So, Allah upon thee, return presently to thy people, for know that she whom thou seekest is the King’s daughter of all these islands: and how canst thou attain to her? Hearken to me, O my son, and haply Allah will vouchsafe thee in her stead a better than she.” “O my lord,” answered Hasan, though for the love of her I were cut in pieces yet should I but redouble in love and transport! There is no help but that I enter the Wak Islands and come to the sight of my wife and children; and Inshallah, I will not return save with her and with them.” Said the Shaykh, “Then nothing will serve thee but thou must make the journey?” Hasan replied “Nothing! and I only ask of thee thy prayers for help and aidance; so haply Allah will reunite me with my wife and children right soon.” Then he wept for stress of longing and recited these couplets,
“You are my wish, of creatures brightest-light
I deem you lief as hearing, fain as sight:
You hold my heart which hath become your home
And since you left me, lords, right sore’s my plight:
Then think not I have yielded up your love,
Your love which set this wretch in fierce affright:
You went and went my joy whenas you went;
And waned and wax’ed wan the brightest light:
You left me lone to watch the stars in woe:
Railing tears likest rain-drops infinite.
Thou’rt longsome to the wight, who pining lies
On wake, moon-gazing through the night,
O Night! Wind! an thou pass the tribe where they abide
Give them my greeting, life is fain of flight.
And tell them somewhat of the pangs I bear:
The loved one kenneth not my case aright.”
Then he wept with sore weeping till he fainted away; and when he came to himself, Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus said to him, “O my son, thou hast a mother; make her not taste the torment of thy loss.” Hasan replied, “By Allah, O my lord, I will never return except with my wife, or my death shall overtake me.” And he wept and wailed and recited these couplets,
“By Love’s right! naught of farness thy slave can estrange
Nor am I one to fail in my fealty:
I suffer such pains did I tell my case
To folk, they’d cry,
‘Madness! clean witless is he!’
Then ecstasy, love-longing, transport and lowe!
Whose case is such case how shall ever he be?”
With this the old man knew that he would not turn from his purpose, though it cost him his life; so he handed him the scroll and prayed for him and charged him how he should do, saying “I have in this letter given a strict charge concerning thee to Abú al-Ruwaysh,2 son of Bilkís, daughter of Mu’in, for he is my Shaykh and my teacher, and all, men and Jinn, humble themselves to him and stand in awe of him. And now go with the blessing of God.” Hasan forthright set out giving the horse the rein, and it flew off with him swiftlier than lightning, and stayed not in its course ten days, when he saw before him a vast loom black as night, walling the world from East to West. As he neared it, the stallion neighed under him, whereupon there flocked to it horses in number as the drops of rain, none could tell their tale or against them prevail, and fell to rubbing themselves against it. Hasan was affrighted at them and fared forwards surrounded by the horses, without drawing rein till he came to the cavern which Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus had described to him. The steed stood still at the door and Hasan alighted and bridged the bridle over the saddle-bow3; whereupon the steed entered the cavern, whilst the rider abode without, as the old man had charged him, pondering the issue of his case in perplexity and distraction and unknowing what would befal him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Like Camoens, one of the model lovers, he calls upon Love to torment him still more — ad majorern Dei (amoris) gloriam.
2 Pron. Aboor–Ruwaysh. “The Father of the little Feather”: he is afterwards called “Son of the daughter of the accursed Iblis”; yet, as Lane says, “he appears to be a virtuous person.”
3 Arab. “Kantara al-lijám fi Karbús (bow) sarjih.”
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Hasan, dismounting from the steed, stood at the cavern-mouth pondering the issue of his case and unknowing what might befal him. He abode standing on the same spot five days with their nights, sleepless, mournful, tearful-eyed; distracted, perplexed, pondering his severance from home and family, comrades and friends, with weeping eye-lids and heavy heart. Then he bethought him of his mother and of what might yet happen to him and of his separation from his wife and children and of all that he had suffered, and he recited these couplets,
“With you is my heart-cure a heart that goes;
And from hill-foot of eyelids the tear-rill flows:
And parting and sorrow and exile and dole
And farness from country and throe that o’erthrows:
Naught am I save a lover distracted by love,
Far parted from loved one and wilted by woes.
And ’tis Love that hath brought me such sorrow, say where
Is the noble of soul who such sorrow unknows?”
Hardly had Hasan made an end of his verses, when out came the Shaykh Abu al-Ruwaysh, a blackamoor and clad in black raiment, and at first sight he knew him by the description that Abd al-Kaddus had given him. He threw himself at his feet and rubbed his cheeks on them and seizing his skirt, laid it on his head and wept before him. Quoth the old man, “What wantest thou, O my son?” Whereupon he put out his hand to him with the letter, and Abu al-Ruwaysh took it and reentered the cavern, without making him any answer. So Hasan sat down at the cave-mouth in his place other five days as he had been bidden, whilst concern grew upon him and terror redoubled on him and restlessness gat hold of him, and he fell to weeping and bemoaning himself for the anguish of estrangement and much watching. And he recited these couplets,
“Glory to Him who guides the skies!
The lover sore in sorrow lies.
Who hath not tasted of Love’s food
Knows not what mean its miseries.
Did I attempt to stem my tears
Rivers of blood would fount and rise.
How many an intimate is hard
Of heart, and pains in sorest wise!
An she with me her word would keep,
Of tears and sighs I’d fain devise,
But I’m forgone, rejected quite
Ruin on me hath cast her eyes.
At my fell pangs fell wildlings weep
And not a bird for me but cries.”
Hasan ceased not to weep till dawn of the sixth day, when Shaykh Abu al-Ruwaysh came forth to him, clad in white raiment, and with his hand signed1 to him to enter. So he went in, rejoicing and assured of the winning of his wish, and the old man took him by the hand and leading him into the cavern, fared on with him half a day’s journey, till they reached an arched doorway with a door of steel. The Shaykh opened the door and they two entered a vestibule vaulted with onyx stones and arabesqued with gold, and they stayed not walking till they came to a great hall and a wide, paved and walled with marble. In its midst was a flower-garden containing all manner trees and flowers and fruits, with birds warbling on the boughs and singing the praises of Allah the Almighty Sovran; and there were four daises, each facing other, and in each dais a jetting fountain, at whose corners stood lions of red gold, spouting gerbes from their mouths into the basin. On each dais stood a chair, whereon sat an elder, with exceeding store of books before him2 and censers of gold, containing fire and perfumes, and before each elder were students, who read the books to him. Now when the twain entered, the elders rose to them and did them honour; whereupon Abu al-Ruwaysh signed to them to dismiss their scholars and they did so. Then the four arose and seating themselves before that Shaykh, asked him of the case of Hasan to whom he said, “Tell the company thy tale and all that hath betided thee from the beginning of thine adventure to the end.” So Hasan wept with sore weeping and related to them his story with Bahram; whereupon all the Shaykhs cried out and said, “Is this indeed he whom the Magian caused to climb the Mountain of Clouds by means of the vultures, sewn up in the camel-hide?” And Hasan said, “Yes.” So they turned to the Shaykh, Abu al-Ruwaysh and said to him, “O our Shaykh, of a truth Bahram contrived his mounting to the mountaintop; but how came he down and what marvels saw he there?” And Abu al-Ruwaysh said, “O Hasan, tell them how thou camest down and acquaint them with what thou sawest of marvels.” So he told them all that had befallen him, first and last; how he had gotten the Magian into his power and slain him, how he had delivered the youth from him and sent him back to his own country, and how he had captured the King’s daughter of the Jinn and married her; yet had she played him false and taken the two boys she had borne him and flown away; brief, he related to them all the hardships and horrors he had undergone; whereat they marvelled, each and every, and said to Abu al-Ruwaysh, “O elder of elders, verily by Allah, this youth is to be pitied! But belike thou wilt aid him to recover his wife and wees.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 I do not translate “beckoned” because the word would give a wrong idea. Our beckoning with the finger moved towards the beckoner makes the so-beckoned Eastern depart in all haste. To call him you must wave the hand from you.
2 The Arabs knew what large libraries were; and a learned man could not travel without camel-loads of dictionaries.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan told his tale to the elders, they said to Shaykh Abu al-Ruwaysh, “This youth is to be pitied and haply thou wilt aid him to recover his wife and wees.” He replied, “O my brothers, in very sooth this is a grave matter and a perilous; and never saw I any loathe his life save this youth. You know that the Islands of Wak are hard of access and that none may come to them but at risk of life; and ye know also the strength of their people and their guards. Moreover I have sworn an oath not to tread their soil nor transgress against them in aught; so how shall this man come at the daughter of the Great King, and who hath power to bring him to her or help him in this matter?” Replied the other, “O Shaykh of Shaykhs, verily this man is consumed with desire and he hath endangered himself to bring thee a scroll from thy brother Abd al-Kaddus; wherefore it behoveth thee to help him.” And Hasan arose and kissed Abu al-Ruwaysh’s feet and raising the hem of his garment laid it on his head, weeping and crying. “I beseech thee, by Allah, to reunite me with my wife and children, though it cost me my life and my soul!” The four elders all wept for his weeping and said to Abu al-Ruwaysh, “Deal generously with this unhappy and show him kindness for the sake of thy brother Abd al-Kaddus and profit by this occasion to earn reward from Allah for helping him.” Quoth he, “This wilful youth weeteth not what he undertaketh; but Inshallah! we will help him after the measure of our means, nor leave aught feasible undone.” When Hasan heard the Shaykh’s word he rejoiced and kissed the hands of the five elders, one after other, imploring their aidance. Thereupon Abd al-Ruwaysh took inkcase and a sheet of paper and wrote a letter, which he sealed and gave to Hasan, together with a pouch of perfumed leather,1 containing incense and fire-sticks2 and other needs, and said to him, “Take strictest care of this pouch, and whenas thou fallest into any strait, burn a little of the incense therein and name my name, whereupon I will be with thee forthright and save thee from thy stress.” Moreover, he bade one of those present fetch him an Ifrit of the Flying Jinn; and he did so incontinently; whereupon quoth Abu al-Ruwaysh to the fire-drake, “What is thy name!” Replied the Ifrit, “Thy thrall is hight Dahnash bin Faktash.” And the Shaykh said “Draw near to me!” So Dahnash drew near to him and he put his mouth to his ear and said somewhat to him, whereat the Ifrit shook his head and answered, “I accept, O elder of elders!” Then said Abu al-Ruwaysh to Hasan, “Arise, O my son, mount the shoulders of this Ifrit, Dahnash the Flyer; but, when he heaveth thee heavenwards and thou hearest the angels glorifying God a-welkin with ‘Subhána Iláh,’ have a care lest thou do the like; else wilt thou perish and he too.” Hasan replied, “I will not say a word; no, never;” and the old man continued, “O Hasan, after faring with thee all this day, to-morrow at peep of dawn he will set thee down in a land cleanly white, like unto camphor, whereupon do thou walk on ten days by thyself, till thou come to the gate of a city. Then enter and enquire for the King of the city; and when thou comest to his presence, salute him with the salam and kiss his hand: then give him this scroll and consider well whatso he shall counsel thee,” Hasan replied, “Hearing and obeying,” and rose up and mounted the Ifrit’s shoulders, whilst the elders rose and offered up prayers for him and commended him to the care of Dahnash the Firedrake. And when he had perched on the Flyer’s back the Ifrit soared with him to the very confines of the sky, till he heard the angels glorifying God in Heaven, and flew on with him a day and a night till at dawn of the next day he set him down in a land white as camphor, and went his way, leaving him there. When Hasan found himself in the land aforesaid with none by his side he fared on night and day for ten days, till he came to the gate of the city in question and entering, enquired for the King. They directed him to him and told him that his name was King Hassún,3 Lord of the Land of Camphor, and that he had troops and soldiers enough to fill the earth in its length and breadth. So he sought audience of him and, being admitted to his presence, found him a mighty King and kissed ground between his hands. Quoth the King, “What is thy want?” Whereupon Hasan kissed the letter and gave it to him. The King read it and shook his head awhile, then said to one of his officers, “Take this youth and lodge him in the house of hospitality.” So he took him and stablished him in the guest-house, where he tarried three days, eating and drinking and seeing none but the eunuch who waited on him and who entertained him with discourse and cheered him with his company, questioning him of his case and how he came to that city; whereupon he told him his whole story, and the perilous condition wherein he was. On the fourth day, that eunuch carried him before the King, who said to him, “O Hasan, thou comest to me, seeking to enter the Islands of Wak, as the Shaykh of Shaykhs adviseth me. O my son, I would send thee thither this very day, but that by the way are many perils and thirsty wolds full of terrors; yet do thou have patience and naught save fair shall befal thee, for needs must I devise to bring thee to thy desire, Inshallah! Know, O my son, that here is a mighty host,4 equipped with arms and steeds and warlike gear, who long to enter the Wak Islands and lack power thereto. But, O my son, for the sake of the Shaykh Abu al-Ruwaysh, son of Bilkis,5 the daughter of Mu’in, I may not send thee back to him unfulfilled of thine affair. Presently there will come to us ships from the Islands of Wak and the first that shall arrive I will send thee on board of her and give thee in charge to the sailors, so they may take care of thee and carry thee to the Islands. If any question thee of thy case and condition, answer him saying, ‘I am kinsman to King Hassun, Lord of the Land of Camphor;’ and when the ship shall make fast to the shore of the Islands of Wak and the master shall bid thee land, do thou land. Now as soon as thou comest ashore, thou wilt see a multitude of wooden settles all about the beach, of which do thou choose thee one and crouch under it and stir not. And when dark night sets in, thou wilt see an army of women appear and flock about the goods landed from the ship, and one of them will sit down on the settle, under which thou hast hidden thyself, whereupon do thou put forth thy hand to her and take hold of her and implore her protection. And know thou, O my son, that an she accord thee protection, thou wilt win thy wish and regain thy wife and children; but, if she refuse to protect thee, make thy mourning for thyself and give up all hope of life, and make sure of death for indeed thou art a dead man. Understand, O my son, that thou adventurest thy life and this is all I can do for thee, and — the peace!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Adim;” now called Bulghár, our Moroccan leather.
2 Arab. “Zinád,” which Lane renders by “instruments for striking fire,” and Mr. Payne, after the fashion of the translators of Al–Hariri, “flint and steel.”
3 A congener of Hasan and Husayn, little used except in Syria where it is a favourite name for Christians. The Muhít of Butrus Al–Bostáni (s.v.) tells us that it also means a bird called Abú Hasan and supplies various Egyptian synonyms. In Mod. Arab. Grammar the form Fa’’úl is a diminutive as Hammúd for Ahmad, ‘Ammúr for ‘Amrú. So the fem. form, Fa’’úlah, e.g. Khaddúgah = little Khadijah and Naffúsah=little Nafisah; Ar’úrah = little clitoris — whereas in Heb. it is an incrementative e.g. dabbúlah a large dablah (cake or lump of dried figs, etc.).
4 In the Mac. Edit. “Soldiers of Al–Daylam” i.e. warlike as the Daylamites or Medes. See vol. ii. 94.
5 Bilkís, it will be remembered, is the Arab. name of the Queen of Sheba who visited Solomon. In Abyssinia she is termed Kebra zá negest or zá makadá, the latter (according to Ferdinand Werne’s “African Wanderings,” Longmans, 1852) being synonymous with Ityopia or Habash (Ethiopia or Abyssinia).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Hassun spake these words to Hasan and charged him as we have related, ending with, “This is all I can do for thee and know that except the Lord of Heaven had aided thee, thou hadst not come hither!” The youth wept till he swooned away, and when he recovered, he recited these two couplets,
“A term decreed my lot I ‘spy;
And, when its days shall end, I die.
Though lions fought with me in lair
If Time be mine I’d beat them, I!”
Then having ended his verse he kissed the ground before the Sovran and said to him, “O mighty King, how many days remain till the coming of the ships?” Replied the other, “In a month’s time they will come and will tarry here, selling their cargueson, other two months, after which they will return to their own country; so hope not to set out save after three whole months.” Then the King bade him return to the house of hospitality and bade supply him with all that he needed of meat and drink and raiment fit for Kings. Hasan abode in the guest-house a month, at the end of which the vessels arrived and the King and the merchants went forth to them, taking Hasan with them. Amongst them he saw a ship with much people therein, like the shingles for number; none knew their tale save He who created them. She was anchored in mid-harbour and had cocks which transported her lading to the shore. So Hasan abode till the crew had landed all the goods and sold and bought and to the time of departure there wanted but three days; whereupon the King sent for him and equipped him with all he required and gave him great gifts: after which he summoned the captain of the great ship and said to him, “Take this youth with thee in the vessel, so none may know of him save thou, and carry him to the Islands of Wak and leave him there; and bring him not back.” And the Rais said, “To hear is to obey: with love and gladness!” Then quoth the King to Hasan, “Look thou tell none of those who are with thee in the ship thine errand nor discover to them aught of thy case; else thou art a lost man;” and quoth he, “Hearing and obedience!” With this he farewelled the King, after he had wished him long life and victory over his enviers and his enemies; wherefore the King thanked him and wished him safety and the winning of his wish. Then he committed him to the captain, who laid him in a chest which he embarked in a dinghy, and bore him aboard, whilst the folk were busy in breaking bulk and no man doubted but the chest contained somewhat of merchandise. After this, the vessels set sail and fared on without ceasing ten days, and on the eleventh day they made the land. So the Rais set Hasan ashore and, as he walked up the beach, he saw wooden settles1 without number, none knew their count save Allah, even as the King had told him. He went on, till he came to one that had no fellow and hid under it till nightfall, when there came up a mighty many of women, as they were locusts over-swarming the land and they marched afoot and armed cap-à-pie in hauberks and strait-knit coats of mail hending drawn swords in their hands, who, seeing the merchandise landed from the ships, busied themselves therewith. Presently they sat down to rest themselves, and one of them seated herself on the settle under which Hasan had crouched: whereupon he took hold of the hem of her garment and laid it on his head and throwing himself before her, fell to kissing her hands and feet and weeping and crying, “Thy protection! thy good-will!” Quoth she, “Ho, thou! Arise and stand up, ere any see thee and slay thee.” So he came forth and springing up kissed her hands and wept and said to her, “O my mistress, I am under thy protection!”; adding, “Have ruth on one who is parted from his people and wife and children, one who hath haste to rejoin them and one who adventureth life and soul for their sake! Take pity on me and be assured that therefor Paradise will be thy reward; or, an thou wilt not receive me, I beseech thee, by Allah the Great, the Concealer, to conceal my case!” The merchants stared to see him talking with her; and she, hearing his words and beholding his humility, was moved to ruth for him; her heart inclined to him and she knew that he had not ventured himself and come to that place, save for a grave matter. So she said to him, “O my son, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, hearten thy heart and take courage and return to thy hiding-place till the coming night, and Allah shall do as He will.” Then she took leave of him and Hasan crept under the wooden settle as before, whilst the troops lighted flambeaux of wax mixed with aloes-wood and Nadd-perfume and crude ambergris2 and passed the night in sport and delight till the morning. At daybreak, the boats returned to the shore and the merchants busied themselves with buying and selling and the transport of the goods and gear till nightfall, whilst Hasan lay hidden beneath the settle, weeping-eyed and woeful-hearted, knowing not what was decreed to him in the secret preordainment of Allah. As he was thus, behold, the merchant-woman with whom he had taken refuge came up to him and giving him a habergeon and a helmet, a spear, a sword and a gilded girdle, bade him don them and seat himself on the settle after which she left him, for fear of the troops. So he arose and donned the mail-coat and helmet and clasped the girdle about his middle; then he slung the sword over his shoulder till it hung under his armpit, and taking the spear in his hand, sat down on that settle, whilst his tongue neglected not to name Allah Almighty and call on Him for protection. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan received the weapons which the merchant-woman had given to him, saying, “Sit thee upon the settle and let none wot thy case,” he armed himself and took his seat, whilst his tongue neglected not to name Allah Almighty and to call upon Him for protection. And behold, there appeared cressets and lanthorns and flambeaux and up came the army of women. So he arose and mingling with them, became as one of them. A little before daybreak, they set out, and Hasan with them, and fared on till they came to their camp, where they dispersed each to her tent, and Hasan followed one of them and lo! it was hers for whose protection he had prayed. When she entered, she threw down her arms and doffed her hauberk and veil. So Hasan did the like and looking at his companion, saw her to be a grizzled old woman blue-eyed and big-nosed, a calamity of calamities, the foulest of all created things, with face pock-marked and eyebrows bald, gap-toothed and chap-fallen, with hair hoary, nose running and mouth slavering;1 even as saith the like of her the poet,
“In her cheek-corners nine calamities
Wone, and when shown, each one Jehannam is:
Hideous the face and favour foulest foul
As cheek of hog; yea, ’tis a cesspool phiz.”
And indeed she was like a pied snake or a scald she-wolf. Now when the old woman looked at Hasan, she marvelled and said, “How came this one to these lands and in which of the ships was he and how arrived he hither in safety?” And she fell to questioning him of his case and admiring at his arrival, whereupon he fell at her feet and rubbed his face on them and wept till he fainted; and, when he recovered himself, he recited these couplets,
“When will Time grant we meet, when shall we be
Again united after severance stark?
And I shall win my choicest wish and view?
Blame end and Love abide without remark?
Were Nile to flow as freely as my tears,
‘Twould leave no region but with water-mark:
‘Twould overthrow Hijaz and Egypt-land
‘Twould deluge Syria and ‘twould drown Irák.
This, O my love, is caused by thy disdain,
Be kind and promise meeting fair and fain!”
Then he took the crone’s skirt and laid it on his head and fell to weeping and craving her protection. When she saw his ardency and transport and anguish and distress, her heart softened to him and she promised him her safeguard, saying, “Have no fear whatsoever.” Then she questioned him of his case and he told her the manner of his coming thither and all that had befallen him from beginning to end, whereat she marvelled and said, “This that hath betide thee, methinks, never betided any save thyself and except thou hadst been vouchsafed the especial protection of Allah, thou hadst not been saved: but now, O my son, take comfort and be of good courage; thou hast nothing more to fear, for indeed thou hast won thy wish and attained thy desire, if it please the Most High!” Thereat Hasan rejoiced with joy exceeding and she sent to summon the captains of the army to her presence, and it was the last day of the month. So they presented themselves and the old woman said to them, “Go out and proclaim to all the troops that they come forth to-morrow at daybreak and let none tarry behind, for whoso tarryeth shall be slain.” They replied, “We hear and we obey,” and going forth, made proclamation to all the host anent a review next morning, even as she bade them, after which they returned and told her of this; whereby Hasan knew that she was the Commander-in-chief of the army and the Viceregent in authority over them; and her name was Shawahí the Fascinator, entituled Umm al-Dawáhi, or Mother of Calamities.2 She ceased not to bid and forbid and Hasan doffed not off his arms from his body that day. Now when the morning broke, all the troops fared forth from their places, but the old woman came not out with them, and as soon as they were sped and the stead was clear of them, she said to Hasan, “Draw near unto me, O my son3.” So he drew near unto her and stood between her hands. Quoth she, “Why and wherefore hast thou adventured thyself so boldly as to enter this land, and how came thy soul to consent to its own undoing? Tell me the truth and the whole truth and fear aught of ill come of it, for thou hast my plighted word and I am moved to compassion for thy case and pity thee and have taken thee under my protection. So, if thou tell me the truth, I will help thee to win thy wish, though it involve the undoing of souls and the destruction of bodies; and since thou hast come to seek me, no hurt shall betide thee from me, nor will I suffer any to have at thee with harm of all who be in the Islands of Wak.” So he told her his tale from first to last, acquainting her with the matter of his wife and of the birds; how he had captured her as his prize from amongst the ten and married her and abode with her, till she had borne him two sons, and how she had taken her children and flown away with them, whenas she knew the way to the feather-dress. Brief, he concealed from her no whit of his case, from the beginning to that day. But when Shawahi heard his relation, she shook her head and said to him, “Glory be to God who hath brought thee hither in safety and made thee hap upon me! For, hadst thou happened on any but myself, thou hadst lost thy life without winning thy wish; but the truth of thine intent and thy fond affection and the excess of thy love-longing for thy wife and yearning for thy children, these it was that have brought thee to the attainment of thine aim. Didst thou not love her and love her to distraction, thou hadst not thus imperilled thyself, and Alhamdolillah — Praised be Allah — for thy safety! Wherefore it behoveth us to do thy desire and conduce to thy quest, so thou mayst presently attain that thou seekest, if it be the will of Almighty Allah. But know, O my son, that thy wife is not here, but in the seventh of the Islands of Wak and between us and it is seven months’ journey, night and day. From here we go to an island called the Land of Birds, wherein, for the loud crying of the birds and the flapping of their wings, one cannot hear other speak.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The author neglects to mention the ugliest part of old-womanhood in the East, long empty breasts like tobacco-pouches. In youth the bosom is beautifully high, arched and rounded, firm as stone to the touch, with the nipples erect and pointing outwards. But after the girl-mother’s first child (in Europe le premier embellit) all changes. Nature and bodily power have been overtasked; then comes the long suckling at the mother’s expense: the extension of the skin and the enlargement of its vessels are too sudden and rapid for the diminished ability of contraction and the bad food aids in the continual consumption of vitality. Hence, among Eastern women age and ugliness are synonymous. It is only in the highest civilisation that we find the handsome old woman.
2 The name has occurred in the Knightly tale of King Omar and his sons, Vol. ii. 269. She is here called Mother of Calamities,but in p. 123, Vol. iv. of the Mac. Edit. she becomes “Lady (Zát) al-Dawáhi.” It will be remembered that the title means calamitous to the foe.
3 By this address she assured him that she had no design upon his chastity. In Moslem lands it is always advisable to accost a strange woman, no matter how young, with, “Yá Ummí!” = O my mother. This is pledging one’s word, as it were, not to make love to her.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman said to Hasan, “Indeed thy wife is in the Seventh Island,1 the greatest amongst the Islands of Wak and betwixt us and it is a seven-months’ journey. From here we fare for the Land of Birds, whereon for the force of their flying and the flapping of their wings, we cannot hear one other speak. Over that country we journey night and day, eleven days, after which we come forth of it to another called the Land of Ferals where, for stress of roaring of lions and howling of wolves and laughing of hyaenas and the crying of other beasts of prey we shall hear naught, and therein we travel twenty days’ journey. Then we issue therefrom and come to a third country, called the Land of the Jánn, where, for stress of the crying of the Jinn and the flaming of fires and the flight of sparks and smoke from their mouths and the noise of their groaning and their arrogance in blocking up the road before us, our ears will be deafened and our eyes blinded, so that we shall neither hear nor see, nor dare any look behind him, or he perisheth: but there horseman boweth head on saddle-bow and raiseth it not for three days. After this, we abut upon a mighty mountain and a running river contiguous with the Isles of Wak, which are seven in number and the extent whereof is a whole year’s journey for a well-girt horseman. And thou must know, O my son, that these troops are all virgin girls, and that the ruler over us is a woman of the Archipelago of Wak. On the bank of the river aforesaid is another mountain, called Mount Wak, and it is thus named by reason of a tree which beareth fruits like heads of the Sons of Adam.2 When the sun riseth on them, the heads cry out all, saying in their cries:— ‘Wak! Wak! Glory be to the Creating King, Al–Khallák!’ And when we hear their crying, we know that the sun is risen. In like manner, at sundown, the heads set up the same cry, ‘Wak! Wak! Glory to Al–Khallak!’ and so we know that the sun hath set. No man may abide with us or reach to us or tread our earth: and betwixt us and the abiding-place of the Queen who ruleth over us is a month’s journey from this shore, all the lieges whereof are under her hand, as are also the tribes of the Jinn, Marids and Satans, while of the warlocks none kenneth the number save He who created them. Wherefore, an thou be afraid, I will send with thee one who will convey thee to the coast and there bring one who will embark thee on board a ship that bear thee to thine own land. But an thou be content to tarry with us, I will not forbid thee and thou shalt be with me in mine eye,3 till thou win thy wish, Inshallah!” Quoth he, “O my lady, I will never quit thee till I foregather with my wife or lose my life!”; and quoth she, “This is a light matter; be of good heart, for soon shalt thou come to thy desire, Allah willing; and there is no help but that I let the Queen know of thee, that she may help thee to attain thine aim.” Hasan blessed her and kissed her head and hands, thanking her for her good deed and exceeding kindness and firm will. Then he set out with her, pondering the issue of his case and the horrors of his strangerhood; wherefore he fell a-weeping and a-wailing and recited these couplets,
“A Zephyr bloweth from the lover’s site;
And thou canst view me in the saddest plight:
The Night of Union is as brilliant morn;
And black the Severance-day as blackest night:
Farewelling friend is sorrow sorest sore
Parting from lover’s merest undelight.
I will not blame her harshness save to her,
And ’mid mankind nor friend nor fere I sight:
How can I be consoled for loss of you?
Base censor’s blame shall not console my sprite!
O thou in charms unique, unique’s my love;
O peerless thou, my heart hath peerless might!
Who maketh semblance that be loveth you
And dreadeth blame is most blame-worthy wight.”
Then the old woman bade beat the kettle-drums for departure and the army set out. Hasan fared with her, drowned in the sea of solicitude and reciting verses like those above, whilst she strave to comfort him and exhorted him to patience; but he awoke not from his tristesse and heeded not her exhortations. They journeyed thus till they came to the boundaries of the Land of Birds4 and when they entered it, it seemed to Hasan as if the world were turned topsy-turvy for the exceeding clamour. His head ached and his mind was dazed, his eyes were blinded and his ears deafened, and he feared with exceeding fear and made certain of deaths saying to himself, “If this be the Land of Birds, how will be the Land of Beasts?” But, when the crone hight Shawahi saw him in this plight, she laughed at him, saying, “O my son, if this be thy case in the first island, how will it fare with thee, when thou comest to the others?” So he prayed to Allah and humbled himself before the Lord, beseeching Him to assist him against that wherewith He had afflicted him and bring him to his wishes; and they ceased not going till they passed out of the Land of Birds and, traversing the Land of Beasts, came to the Land of the Jann which when Hasan saw, he was sore affrighted and repented him of having entered it with them. But he sought aid of Allah the Most High and fared on with them, till they were quit of the Land of the Jann and came to the river and set down their loads at the foot of a vast mountain and a lofty, and pitched their tents by the stream-bank. Then they rested and ate and drank and slept in security, for they were come to their own country. On the morrow the old woman set Hasan a couch of alabaster, inlaid with pearls and jewels and nuggets of red gold, by the river-side, and he sat down thereon, having first bound his face with a chin-kerchief, that discovered naught of him but his eyes. Then she bade proclaim among the troops that they should all assemble before her tent and put off their clothes and go down into the stream and wash; and this she did that she might parade before him all the girls, so haply his wife should be amongst them and he know her. So the whole army mustered before her and putting off their clothes, went down into the stream, and Hasan seated on his couch watched them washing their white skins and frolicking and making merry, whilst they took no heed of his inspecting them, deeming him to be of the daughters of the Kings. When he beheld them stripped of their clothes, his chord stiffened for that looking at them mother-naked he saw what was between their thighs, and that of all kinds, soft and rounded, plump and cushioned; large-lipped, perfect, redundant and ample,5 and their faces were as moons and their hair as night upon day, for that they were of the daughters of the Kings. When they were clean, they came up out of the water, stark naked, as the moon on the night of fullness and the old woman questioned Hasan of them, company by company, if his wife were among them; but, as often as she asked him of a troop, he made answer, “She is not among these, O my lady.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Apparently the Wakites numbered their Islands as the Anglo–Americans do their streets. For this they have been charged with “want of imagination”; but the custom is strictly classical. See at Pompeii “Reg (io) I; Ins (ula) 1, Via Prima, Secunda,” etc.
2 These are the Puellæ Wakwakienses of whom Ibn Al–Wardi relates after an ocular witness, “Here too is a tree which bears fruits like women who have fair faces and are hung by their hair. They come forth from integuments like large leathern bags (calabash-gourds?) and when they sense air and sun they cry ‘Wak! Wak!’ (God! God!) till their hair is cut, and when it is cut they die; and the islanders understand this cry wherefrom they augure ill.” The Ajáib al-Hind (chapt. xv.) places in Wak-land the Samandal, a bird which enters the fire without being burnt evidently the Egyptian “Pi–Benni,” which the Greeks metamorphised to “Phoenix.” It also mentions a hare-like animal, now male then female, and the Somal behind Cape Guardafui tell the same tale of their Cynhyænas.
3 i.e. I will keep thee as though thou wert the apple of my eye.
4 A mere exaggeration of the “Gull-fairs” noted by travellers in sundry islands as Ascension and the rock off Brazilian Santos.
5 Arab. “Kámil wa Basít wa Wáfir” = the names of three popular metres, for which see the Terminal Essay.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman questioned Hasan of the girls, company after company, if haply his wife were among them; but as often as she asked him of a troop, he made answer, “She is not among these, O my lady!” Last of all, there came up a damsel, attended by ten slave-girls and thirty waiting-women, all of them high-bosomed maidens. They put off their clothes and went down into the river, where the damsel fell to riding the high horse over her women, throwing them down and ducking them. On this wise she continued for a full hour, after which all came up out of the water and sat down; and they brought her napkins1 of gold-purfled silk, with which she dried herself. Then they brought her clothes and jewels and ornaments of the handiwork of the Jinn, and she donned them and rose and walked with graceful pace among the troops, she and her maidens. When Hasan saw her, his heart was ready to fly from his breast and he said, “Verily this girl is the likest of all folk to the bird I saw in the basin atop of the palace of my sisters the Princesses, and she lorded it over her lieges even as doth this one.” The old woman asked, “O Hasan, is this thy wife?”; and he answered, “No, by thy life, O my lady; this is not my wife, nor ever in my life have I set eyes on her; neither among all the girls I have seen in these islands is there the like of my wife nor her match for symmetry and grace and beauty and loveliness!” Then said Shawaki, “Describe her to me and acquaint me with all her attributes, that I may have her in my mind; for I know every girl in the Islands of Wak, being commander of the army of maids and governor over them; wherefore, an thou describe her to me, I shall know her and will contrive for thee to take her.” Quoth he, “My wife hath the fairest face and a form all grace; smooth is she of cheeks and high of breasts with eyes of liquid light, calves and thighs plump to sight, teeth snowy white, with dulcet speech dight; in speech soft and bland as she were a willow-wand; her gifts are a moral and lips are red as coral; her eyes wear natural Kohl-dye and her lower labia2 in softness lie. On her right cheek is a mole and on her waist, under her navel, is a sign; her face shines as the rondure of the moon in sheen, her waist is slight, her hips a heavy weight, and the water of her mouth the sick doth heal, as it were Kausar or Salsabil.”3 Said the old woman, “Give me an increased account of her, Allah increase thee of passion for her!” Quoth he, “My wife hath a face the fairest fair and oval cheeks the rarest rare; neck long and spare and eyes that Kohl wear; her side face shows the Anemones of Nu’uman, her mouth is like a seal of cornelian and flashing teeth that lure and stand one in stead of cup and ewer. She is cast in the mould of pleasantness and between her thighs is the throne of the Caliphate, there is no such sanctuary among the Holy Places; as saith in its praise the poet,
“The name of what drave me distraught
Hath letters renowned among men:
A four into five multiplied
And a multiplied six into ten.4”
Then Hasan wept and chanted the following Mawwál,5
“O heart, an lover false thee, shun the parting bane
Nor to forgetfulness thy thoughts constrain:
Be patient; thou shalt bury all thy foes;
Allah ne’er falseth man of patience fain.”
And this also,
“An wouldst be life,long safe, vaunt not delight;
Never despair, nor wone o’erjoyed in sprite!
Forbear, rejoice not, mourn not o’er thy plight
And in ill day
‘Have not we oped?’— recite.”6
Thereupon the old woman bowed her head groundwards awhile, then, raising it, said, “Laud be to the Lord, the Mighty of Award! Indeed I am afflicted with thee, O Hasan! Would Heaven I had never known thee! This woman, whom thou describest to me as thy wife, I know by description and I know her to be none other than the eldest daughter of the Supreme King, she who ruleth over all the Islands of Wak. So open both eyes and consider thy case; and if thou be asleep, awake; for, if this woman be indeed thy wife, it is impossible for thee ever to obtain her, and though thou come to her, yet couldst thou not avail to her possession, since between thee and her the distance is as that between earth and Heaven. Wherefore, O my son, return presently and cast not thyself into destruction nor cast me with thee; for meseemeth thou hast no lot in her; so return whence thou camest lest our lives be lost.” And she feared for herself and for him. When Hasan heard her words, he wept till he fainted and she left not sprinkling water on his face, till he came to himself, when he continued to weep, so that he drenched his dress with tears, for the much cark and care and chagrin which betided him by reason of her words. And indeed he despaired of life and said to the old woman, “O my lady, and how shall I go back, after having come hither? Verily, I thought not thou wouldst forsake me nor fail of the winning of my wish, especially as thou art the Commander-in-chief of the army of the girls.” Answered Shawahl, “O my son, I doubted not but thy wife was a maid of the maids, and had I known she was the King’s daughter, I had not suffered thee to come hither nor had I shown the troops to thee, for all the love I bear thee. But now, O my son, thou hast seen all the girls naked; so tell me which of them pleaseth thee and I will give her to thee, in lieu of thy wife, and do thou put it that thy wife and children are dead and take her and return to thine own country in safety, ere thou fall into the King’s hand and I have no means of delivering thee. So, Allah upon thee, O my son, hearken unto me. Choose thyself one of these damsels, in the stead of yonder woman, and return presently to thy country in safety and cause me not quaff the cup of thine anguish! For, by Allah, thou hast cast thyself into affliction sore and peril galore, wherefrom none may avail to deliver thee evermore!” But Hasan hung down his head and wept with long weeping and recited these couplets,
“‘Blame not!’ said I to all who blamèd me;
‘Mine eye-lids naught but tears were made to dree:’
The tears that brim these orbs have overflowed
My checks, for lovers and love’s cruelty.
Leave me to love though waste this form of me!
For I of Love adore the insanity:
And, Oh my dearling, passion grows on me
For you — and you, why grudge me clemency?
You wronged me after swearing troth and plight,
Falsed my companionship and turned to flee:
And cup of humbling for your rigours sore
Ye made me drain what day departed ye:
Then melt, O heart, with longing for their sight
And, O mine eyes, with crowns of tears be dight.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Manáshif” = drying towels, Plur. of Minshafah, and the popular term which Dr. Jonathan Swift corrupted to “Munnassaf.” Lane (Nights, Introduct. p. ix.).
2 Arab. “Shafaif” opposed to “Shafah” the mouth-lips.
3 Fountains of Paradise. This description is a fair instance of how the Saj’a (prose-rhyme) dislocates the order; an Arab begins with hair, forehead, eyebrows and lashes and when he reaches the nose, he slips down to the toes for the sake of the assonance. If the latter be neglected the whole list of charms must be otherwise ordered; and the student will compare Mr. Payne’s version of this passage with mine.
4 A fair specimen of the Arab logogriph derived from the Abjad Alphabet which contains only the Hebrew and Syriac letters not the six Arabic. Thus 4 X 5=20 which represents the Kaf (K) and 6 X 10=60, or Sin (S). The whole word is thus “Kos”, the Greek or, and the lowest word, in Persian as in Arabic, for the female pudenda, extensively used in vulgar abuse. In my youth we had at the University something of the kind,
To five and five and fifty-five
The first of letters add
To make a thing to please a King
And drive a wise man mad.
Answer VVLVA. Very interesting to the anthropological student is this excursus of Hasan, who after all manner of hardships and horrors and risking his life to recover his wife and children, breaks out into song on the subject of her privities. And it can hardly be tale-teller’s gag as both verse and prose show considerable art in composition. (See p. 348.)
Note(p.93)— There is something wondrous naïve in a lover who, when asked by his mistress to sing a song in her honour, breaks out into versical praises of her parts. But even the classical Arab authors did not disdain such themes. See in Al–Harírí (Ass. of Mayyáfarikín) where Abú Zayd laments the impotency of old age in form of a Rasy or funeral oration (Preston p. 484, and Chenery p. 221). It completely deceived Sir William Jones, who inserted it into the chapter “De Poesi Funebri,” p. 527 (Poeseos Asiaticæ Commentarii), gravely noting, “Hæc Elegia non admodum dissimilis esse videtur pulcherrimi illius carminis de Sauli et Jonathani obitu; at que adeò versus iste ‘ubi provocant adversarios nunquam rediit a pugnæ contentione sine spiculo sanguine imbuto, ‘ex Hebræoreddi videtur,
A sanguine occisorum, a fortium virorum adipe,
Arcus Jonathani non rediit irritus.”
I need hardly say with Captain Lockett (226) that this “Sabb warrior,” this Arabian Achilles, is the celebrated Bonus Deus or Hellespontiacus of the Ancients. The oration runs thus:—
O folk I have a wondrous tale, so rare
Much shall it profit hearers wise and ware!
I saw in salad-years a potent Brave
And sharp of edge and point his warrior glaive;
Who entered joust and list with hardiment
Fearless of risk, of victory confident,
His vigorous onset straitest places oped
And easy passage through all narrows groped:
He ne’er encountered foe in single fight
But came from tilt with spear in blood stained bright;
Nor stormed a fortress howso strong and stark —
With fencèd gates defended deep and dark —
When shown his flag without th’ auspicious cry
“Aidance from Allah and fair victory nigh!”‡
Thus wise full many a night his part he played
In strength and youthtide’s stately garb arrayed,
Dealing to fair young girl delicious joy
And no less welcome to the blooming boy.
But Time ne’er ceased to stint his wondrous strength
(Steadfast and upright as the gallow’s length)
Until the Nights o’erthrew him by their might
And friends contemned him for a feckless wight;
Nor was a wizard but who wasted skill
Over his case, nor leach could heal his ill.
Then he abandoned arms abandoned him
Who gave and took salutes so fierce and grim;
And now lies prostrate drooping haughty crest;
For who lives longest him most ills molest.
Then see him, here he lies on bier for bet; —
Who will a shroud bestow on stranger dead?
A fair measure of the difference between Eastern and Western manners is afforded by such a theme being treated by their gravest writers and the verses being read and heard by the gravest and most worshipful men, whilst amongst us Preston and Chenery do not dare even to translate them. The latter, indeed, had all that immodest modesty for which English professional society is notable in this xixth century. He spoiled by needlessly excluding from a scientific publication (Mem. R.A.S.) all of my Proverbia Communia Syriaca (see Unexplored Sryia, i. 364) and every item which had a shade of double entendre. But Nemesis frequently found him out: during his short and obscure rule in Printing House Square, The Thunderer was distinguished by two of the foulest indecencies that ever appeared in an English paper.
‡ The well-known Koranic verse, whereby Allah is introduced into an indecent tale and “Holy Writ” is punned upon. I have noticed (iii. 206) that victory Fat’h lit.=opening everything (as e.g. a maidenhead).
5 Egyptian and Syrian vulgar term for Mawálíyah or Mawáliyah, a short poem on subjects either classical or vulgar. It generally consists of five lines all rhyming except the penultimate. The metre is a species of the Basít which, however, admits of considerable poetical license; this being according to Lane the usual “Weight,”
/ / /.
The scheme is distinctly anapæstic and Mr. Lyall (Translations of Ancient Arabic Poetry) compares with a cognate metre, the Tawíl, certain lines in Abt Vogler, e.g.
“Ye know why the forms are fair, ye hear how the tale is told.”
6 i.e. repeat the chapter of the Koran termed The Opening, and beginning with these words, “Have we not opened thy breast for thee and eased thee of thy burden which galled thy back? Verily with the difficulty cometh ease!”— Koran xciv. vol. 1, 5.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman said to Hasan, “By Allah, O my son, hearken to my words! Choose thee one of these girls in lieu of thy wife and presently return to thy country in safety,” he hung down his head and recited the couplets quoted above. Then he wept till he swooned away and Shawahl sprinkled water on his face till he revived, when she addressed him, “O my lord, I have no shift left; because if I carry thee to the city thy life is lost and mine also: for, when the Queen cometh to know of this, she will blame me for admitting thee into her lands and islands, whereto none of Adam’s sons hath access, and will slay me for bringing thee with me and for suffering mortal to look upon the virgins seen by thee in the sea, whom ne’er touched male, neither approached mate.” And Hasan sware that he had never looked on them with evil of eye. She resumed, “O my son, hearken to me and return to thy country and I will give thee wealth and treasures and things of price, such as shall suffice thee for all the women in the world. Moreover, I will give thee a girl of the best of them, so lend an ear to my words and return presently and imperil not thyself; indeed I counsel thee with good counsel.” But he wept and rubbed both cheeks against her feet, saying, “O my lady and mistress and coolth of mine eyes, how can I turn back now that I have made my way hither, without the sight of those I desire, and now that I have come near the beloved’s site, hoping for meeting forthright, so haply there may be a portion in reunion to my plight?” And he improvised these couplets,
“O Kings of beauty, grace to prisoner ta’en
Of eyelids fit to rule the Chosroës’ reign:
Ye pass the wafts of musk in perfumed breath;
Your cheeks the charms of blooming rose disdain.
The softest Zephyr breathes where pitch ye camp
And thence far-scattered sweetness fills the plain:
Censor of me, leave blame and stint advice!
Thou bringest wearying words and wisdom vain:
Why heat my passion with this flame and up —
braid me when naught thou knowest of its bane?
Captured me eyes with passion maladifs,
And overthrew me with Love’s might and main:
I scatter tears the while I scatter verse;
You are my theme for rhyme and prosy strain.
Melted my vitals glow of rosy cheeks
And in the Lazá-lowe my heart is lain:
Tell me, an I leave to discourse of you,
What speech my breast shall broaden?
Tell me deign! Life-long I loved the lovelings fair, but ah,
To grant my wish eke Allah must be fain!”
Hearing his verses the old woman was moved to ruth for him and Allah planted the seed of affection for him in her heart; so coming up to him she consoled him, saying, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear and put away trouble from thy thought, for, by Allah, I will venture my life with thee, till thou attain thine aim or death undo me!” With this, Hasan’s heart was comforted and his bosom broadened and he sat talking with the old woman till the end of the day, when all the girls dispersed, some entering their town-mansions and others nighting in the tents. Then the old woman carried him into the city and lodged him in a place apart, lest any should come to know of him and tell the Queen of him and she should slay him and slay her who had brought him thither. Moreover, she served him herself and strave to put him in fear of the awful majesty of the Supreme King, his wife’s father; whilst he wept before her and said, “O my fady, I choose death for myself and loathe this worldly life, if I foregather not with my wife and children: I have set my existence on the venture and will either attain my aim or die.” So the old woman fell to pondering the means of bringing him and his wife together and casting about how to do in the case of this unhappy one, who had thrown himself into destruction and would not be diverted from his purpose by fear or aught else; for, indeed he reeked not of his life and the sayer of bywords saith, “Lover in nowise hearkeneth he to the speech of the man who is fancy-free.” Now the name of the Queen of the island wherein they were was Núr al-Hudà,1 eldest daughter of the Supreme King, and she had six virgin sisters, abiding with their father, whose capital and court were in the chief city of that region and who had made her ruler over all the lands and islands of Wak. So when the ancient dame saw Hasan on fire with yearning after his wife and children, she rose up and repaired to the palace and going in to Queen Nur al-Huda kissed ground before her; for she had a claim on her favour because she had reared the King’s daughters one and all and had authority over each and every of them and was high in honour and consideration with them and with the King. Nur al-Huda rose to her as she entered and embracing her, seated her by her side and asked her of her journey. She answered, “By Allah, O my lady ’twas a blessed journey and I have brought thee a gift which I will presently present to thee,” adding, “O my daughter, O Queen of the age and the time, I have a favour to crave of thee and I fain would discover it to thee, that thou mayst help me to accomplish it, and but for my confidence that thou wilt not gainsay me therein, I would not expose it to thee.” Asked the Queen, “And what is thy need? Expound it to me, and I will accomplish it to thee, for I and my kingdom and troops are all at thy commandment and disposition.” Therewithal the old woman quivered as quivereth the reed on a day when the storm-wind is abroad and saying in herself, “O2 Protector, protect me from the Queen’s mischief!”3 fell down before her and acquainted her with Hasan’s case, saying, “O my lady, a man, who had hidden himself under my wooden settle on the seashore, sought my protection; so I took him under my safeguard and carried him with me among the army of girls armed and accoutred so that none might know him, and brought him into the city; and indeed I have striven to affright him with thy fierceness, giving him to know of thy power and prowess; but, as often as I threatened him, he weepeth and reciteth verses and sayeth, ‘Needs must I have my wife and children or die, and I will not return to my country without them.’ And indeed he hath adventured himself and come to the Islands of Wak, and never in all my days saw I mortal heartier of heart than he or doughtier of derring-do, save that love hath mastered him to the utmost of mastery.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman related to Queen Nur al-Huda the adventure of Hasan, ending with, “Never I saw any one heartier of heart than he save that love hath mastered him to the utmost of mastery,” the Queen, after lending an attentive ear and comprehending the case, waxed wroth at her with exceeding wrath and bowed her head awhile groundwards; then, raising it, she looked at Shawahi and said to her, “O ill-omened beldam, art thou come to such a pass of lewdness that thou carriest males, men, with thee into the Islands of Wak and bringest them into me, unfearing of my mischief? Who hath foregone thee with this fashion, that thou shouldst do thus? By the head of the King, but for thy claim on me for fosterage and service, I would forthwith do both him and thee to die the foulest of deaths, that travellers might take warning by thee, O accursed, lest any other do the like of this outrageous deed thou hast done, which none durst hitherto! But go and bring him hither forthright, that I may see him; or I will strike off thy head, O accursed.” So the old woman went out from her, confounded, unknowing whither she went and saying, “All this calamity hath Allah driven upon me from this Queen because of Hasan!” and going in to him, said, “Rise, speak with the Queen, O wight whose last hour is at hand!” So he rose and went with her, whilst his tongue ceased not to call upon Almighty Allah and say, “O my God, be gracious to me in Thy decrees and deliver me from this Thine affliction!”1 And Shawahi went with him charging him by the way how he should speak with the Queen. When he stood before Nur al-Huda, he found that she had donned the chinveil2; so he kissed ground before her and saluted her with the salam, improvising these two couplets,
“God make thy glory last in joy of life;
Allah confirm the boons he deigned bestow:
Thy grace and grandeur may our Lord increase
And aye Th’ Almighty aid thee o’er thy foe!”
When he ended his verse Nur al-Huda bade the old woman ask him questions before her, that she might hear his answers: so she said to him, “The Queen returneth thy salam-greeting and saith to thee, ‘What is thy name and that of thy country, and what are the names of thy wife and children, on whose account thou art come hither?”’ Quoth he, and indeed he had made firm his heart and destiny aided him, “O Queen of the age and tide and peerless jewel of the epoch and the time, my name is Hasan the fullfilled of sorrow, and my native city is Bassorah. I know not the name of my wife3 but my children’s names are Násir and Mansúr.” When the Queen heard his reply and his provenance, she bespoke him herself and said, “And whence took she her children?” He replied, “O Queen, she took them from the city of Baghdad and the palace of the Caliphate.” Quoth Nur al-Huda, “And did she say naught to thee at the time she flew away?;” and quoth he, “Yes; she said to my mother, ‘Whenas thy son cometh to thee and the nights of severance upon him longsome shall be and he craveth meeting and reunion to see, and whenas the breezes of love and longing shake him dolefully let him come in the Islands of Wak to me.’” Whereupon Queen Nur al-Huda shook her head and said to him, “Had she not desired thee she had not said to thy mother this say, and had she not yearned for reunion with thee, never had she bidden thee to her stead nor acquainted thee with her abiding-place.” Rejoined Hasan, “O mistress of Kings and asylum of prince and pauper, whatso happened I have told thee and have concealed naught thereof, and I take refuge from evil with Allah and with thee; wherefore oppress me not, but have compassion on me and earn recompense and requital for me in the world to come, and aid me to regain my wife and children. Grant me my urgent need and cool mine eyes with my children and help me to the sight of them.” Then he wept and wailed and lamenting his lot recited these two couplets,
“Yea, I will laud thee while the ring-dove moans,
Though fail my wish of due and lawful scope:
Ne’er was I whirled in bliss and joys gone by
Wherein I found thee not both root and rope.”4
The Queen shook her head and bowed it in thought a long time; then, raising it, she said to Hasan (and indeed she was wroth), “I have ruth on thee and am resolved to show thee in review all the girls in the city and in the provinces of my island; and in case thou know thy wife, I will deliver her to thee; but, an thou know her not and know not her place, I will put thee to death and crucify thee over the old woman’s door.” Replied Hasan, “I accept this from thee, O Queen of the Age, and am content to submit to this thy condition. There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” And he recited these couplets,
“You’ve roused my desire and remain at rest —
Waked my wounded lids while you slept with zest.
And ye made me a vow ye would not hang back
But your guile when you chained me waxt manifest.
I loved you in childhood unknowing Love;
Then slay me not who am sore opprest.
Fear ye not from Allah when slaying a friend
Who gazeth on stars when folk sleep their best?
By Allah, my kinsmen, indite on my tomb
‘This man was the slave of Love’s harshest best!’
Haps a noble youth, like me Love’s own thrall,
When he sees my grave on my name shall call.”
Then Queen Nur al-Huda commanded that not a girl should abide in the city but should come up to the palace and pass in review before Hasan and moreover she bade Shawahi go down in person and bring them up herself. Accordingly all the maidens in the city presented themselves before the Queen, who caused them to go in to Hasan, hundred after hundred, till there was no girl left in the place, but she had shown her to him; yet he saw not his wife amongst them. Then said she to him, “Seest thou her amongst these?”; and he replied, “By thy life, O Queen, she is not amongst them.” With this she was sore enraged against him and said to the old woman, “Go in and bring out all who are in the palace and show them to him.” So she displayed to him every one of the palace-girls, but he saw not his wife among them and said to the Queen, “By the life of thy head, O Queen, she is not among these.” Whereat the Queen was wroth and cried out at those around her, saying, “Take him and hale him along, face to earth, and cut off his head, least any adventure himself after him and intrude upon us in our country and spy out our estate by thus treading the soil of our islands.” So they threw him down on his face and dragged him along; then, covering his eyes with his skirt, stood at his head with bared brands awaiting royal permission. Thereupon Shawahi came forward and kissing the ground before the Queen, took the hem of her garment and laid it on her head, saying, “O Queen, by my claim for fosterage, be not hasty with him, more by token of thy knowledge that this poor wretch is a stranger, who hath adventured himself and suffered what none ever suffered before him, and Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty,) preserved him from death, for that his life was ordained to be long. He heard of thine equity and entered thy city and guarded site;5 wherefore, if thou put him to death, the report will dispread abroad of thee, by means of the travellers, that thou hatest strangers and slayest them. He is in any case at thy mercy and the slain of thy sword, if his wife be not found in thy dominions; and whensoever thou desireth his presence, I can bring him back to thee. Moreover, in very sooth I took him under my protection only of my trust in thy magnanimity through my claim on thee for fosterage, so that I engaged to him that thou wouldst bring him to his desire, for my knowledge of thy justice and quality of mercy. But for this, I had not brought him into thy kingdom; for I said to myself: ‘The Queen will take pleasure in looking upon him, and hearing him speak his verses and his sweet discourse and eloquent which is like unto pearls strung on string.’ Moreover, he hath entered our land and eaten of our meat; wherefore he hath a claim upon us.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 He is not strong-minded but his feminine persistency of purpose, likest to that of a sitting hen, is confirmed by the “Consolations of religion.” The character is delicately drawn.
2 In token that she intended to act like a man.
3 This is not rare even in real life: Moslem women often hide and change their names for superstitious reasons, from the husband and his family.
4 Arab. “Sabab” which also means cause. Vol. ii. 14. There is the same metaphorical use of “Habl”= cord and cause.
5 Arab. “Himà,” a word often occurring in Arab poetry, domain, a pasture or watered land forcibly kept as far as a dog’s bark would sound by some masterful chief like “King Kulayb.” (See vol. ii. 77.) This tenure was forbidden by Mohammed except for Allah and the Apostle (i.e. himself). Lane translates it “asylum.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Queen Nur al-Huda bade her pages seize Hasan and smite his neck, the old woman, Shawahi, began to reason with her and say, “Verily he hath entered our land and eaten of our meat, wherefore he hath a claim upon us, the more especially since I promised him to bring him in company with thee; and thou knowest that, parting is a grievous ill and severance hath power to kill, especially separation from children. Now he hath seen all our women, save only thyself; so do thou show him thy face?” The Queen smiled and said, “How can he be my husband and have had children by me, that I should show him my face?” Then she made them bring Hasan before her and when he stood in the presence, she unveiled her face, which when he saw, he cried out with a great cry and fell down fainting. The old woman ceased not to tend him, till he came to himself and as soon as he revived he recited these couplets,
“O breeze that blowest from the land Irak
And from their corners whoso cry ‘Wak! Wak!’
Bear news of me to friends and say for me
I’ve tasted passion-food of bitter smack.
O dearlings of my love, show grace and ruth
My heart is melted for this severance-rack.”
When he ended his verse he rose and looking on the Queen’s face, cried out with a great cry, for stress whereof the palace was like to fall upon all therein. Then he swooned away again and the old woman ceased not to tend him till he revived, when she asked him what ailed him and he answered, “In very sooth this Queen is either my wife or else the likest of all folk to my wife.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old woman asked Hasan what ailed him, he answered, “In very sooth this Queen is either my wife or else the likest of all folk to my wife.” Quoth Nur al-Huda to the old woman, “Woe to thee, O nurse! This stranger is either Jinn-mad or out of his mind, for he stareth me in the face with wide eyes and saith I am his wife.” Quoth the old woman, “O Queen, indeed he is excusable; so blame him not, for the saying saith, ‘For the lovesick is no remedy and alike are the madman and he.’” And Hasan wept with sore weeping and recited these two couplets,
“I sight their track and pine for longing love;
And o’er their homesteads weep I and I yearn:
And I pray Heaven who will’ed we should part,
Will deign to grant us boon of safe return.”
Then said Hasan to the Queen once more, “By Allah, thou art not my wife, but thou art the likest of all folk to her!” Hereupon Nur al-Huda laughed till she fell backwards and rolled round on her side.1 Then she said to him, “O my friend, take thy time and observe me attentively: answer me at thy leisure what I shall ask thee and put away from thee insanity and perplexity and inadvertency for relief is at hand.” Answered Hasan, “O mistress of Kings and asylum of all princes and paupers, when I looked upon thee, I was distracted, seeing thee to be either my wife or the likest of all folk to her; but now ask me whatso thou wilt.” Quoth she, “What is it in thy wife that resembleth me?”; and quoth he, “O my lady, all that is in thee of beauty and loveliness, elegance and amorous grace, such as the symmetry of thy shape and the sweetness of thy speech and the blushing of thy cheeks and the jutting of thy breasts and so forth, all resembleth her and thou art her very self in thy faculty of parlance and the fairness of thy favour and the brilliancy of thy brow.”2 When the Queen heard this, she smiled and gloried in her beauty and loveliness and her cheeks reddened and her eyes wantoned; then she turned to Shawahi Umm Dawahi and said to her, “O my mother, carry him back to the place where he tarried with thee and tend him thyself, till I examine into his affair; for, an he be indeed a man of manliness and mindful of friendship and love and affection, it behoveth we help him to win his wish, more by token that he hath sojourned in our country and eaten of our victual, not to speak of the hardships of travel he hath suffered and the travail and horrors he hath undergone. But, when thou hast brought him to thy house, commend him to the care of thy dependents and return to me in all haste; and Allah Almighty willing!3 all shall be well.” Thereupon Shawahi carried him back to her lodging and charged her handmaids and servants and suite wait upon him and bring him all he needed nor fail in what was his due. Then she returned to Queen Nur al-Huda, who bade her don her arms and set out, taking with her a thousand doughty horsemen. So she obeyed and donned her war-gear and having collected the thousand riders reported them ready to the Queen, who bade her march upon the city of the Supreme King, her father, there to alight at the abode of her youngest sister, Manár al-Saná4 and say to her, “Clothe thy two sons in the coats of mail which their aunt hath made them and send them to her; for she longeth for them.” Moreover the Queen charged her keep Hasan’s affair secret and say to Manar al-Sana, after securing her children, “Thy sister inviteth thee to visit her.” “Then,” she continued, “bring the children to me in haste and let her follow at her leisure. Do thou come by a road other than her road and journey night and day and beware of discovering this matter to any. And I swear by all manner oaths that, if my sister prove to be his wife and it appear that her children are his, I will not hinder him from taking her and them and departing with them to his own country.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 She was a maid and had long been of marriageable age.
2 The young man had evidently “kissed the Blarney stone”; but the flattery is the more telling as he speaks from the heart.
3 “Inshallah “ here being= D. V.
4 i.e. The “Place of Light” (Pharos), or of Splendour. Here we find that Hasan’s wife is the youngest sister, but with an extraordinary resemblance to the eldest, a very masterful young person. The anagnorisis is admirably well managed.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Oueen said, “I swear by Allah and by all manner of oaths that if she prove to be his wife, I will not hinder him from taking her but will aid him thereto and eke to departing with them to his mother-land.” And the old woman put faith in her words, knowing not what she purposed in her mind, for the wicked Jezebel had resolved that if she were not his wife she would slay him; but if the children resembled him, she would believe him. The Queen resumed, “O my mother, an my thought tell me true, my sister Manar al-Sana is his wife, but Allah alone is All-knowing! seeing that these traits of surpassing beauty and excelling grace, of which he spoke, are found in none except my sisters and especially in the youngest.” The old woman kissed her hand and returning to Hasan, told him what the Queen had said, whereat he was like to fly for joy and coming up to her, kissed her head. Quoth she, “O my son, kiss not my head, but kiss me on the mouth and be this kiss by way of sweetmeat for thy salvation.1 Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear and grudge not to kiss my mouth, for I and only I was the means of thy foregathering with her. So take comfort, and hearten thy heart and broaden thy breast and gladden thy glance and console thy soul for, Allah willing, thy desire shall be accomplished at my hand.” So saying, she bade him farewell and departed, whilst he recited these two couplets,
“Witnesses unto love of thee I’ve four;
And wants each case two witnesses; no more!
A heart aye fluttering, limbs that ever quake,
A wasted frame and tongue that speech forswore.”
And also these two,
“Two things there be, an blood-tears thereover
Wept eyes till not one trace thou couldst discover,
Eyes ne’er could pay the tithe to them is due
The prime of youth and severance from lover.”
Then the old woman armed herself and, taking with her a thousand weaponed horsemen, set out and journeyed till she came to the island and the city where dwelt the Lady Manar al-Sana and between which and that of her sister Queen Nur al-Huda was three days’ journey. When Shawahi reached the city, she went in to the Princess and saluting her, gave her her sister’s salam and acquainted her with the Queen’s longing for her and her children and that she reproached her for not visiting her. Quoth Manar al-Sana, “Verily, I am beholden to my sister and have failed of my duty to her in not visiting her, but I will do so forthright.” Then she bade pitch her tents without the city and took with her for her sister a suitable present of rare things. Presently, the King her father looked out of a window of his palace, and seeing the tents pitched by the road, asked of them, and they answered him, “The Princess Manar al-Sana hath pitched her tents by the way-side, being minded to visit her sister Queen Nur al-Huda.” When the King heard this, he equipped troops to escort her to her sister and brought out to her from his treasuries meat and drink and monies and jewels and rarities which beggar description. Now the King had seven daughters, all sisters-german by one mother and father except the youngest: the eldest was called Núr al-Hudà, the second Najm al-Sabáh, the third Shams al-Zuhà, the fourth Shajarat al-Durr, the fifth Kút al-Kulúb, the sixth Sharaf al-Banát and the youngest Manar al-Sana, Hasan’s wife, who was their sister by the father’s side only.2 Anon the old woman again presented herself and kissed ground before the Princess, who said to her, “Hast thou any need, O my mother?” Quoth Shawahi, “Thy sister, Queen Nur al-Huda, biddeth thee clothe thy sons in the two habergeons which she fashioned for them and send them to her by me, and I will take them and forego thee with them and be the harbinger of glad tidings and the announcer of thy coming to her.” When the Princess heard these words, her colour changed and she bowed her head a long while, after which she shook it and looking up, said to the old woman, “O my mother, my vitals tremble and my heart fluttereth when thou namest my children; for, from the time of their birth none hath looked on their faces either Jinn or man, male or female, and I am jealous for them of the zephyr when it breatheth in the night.” Exclaimed the old woman, “What words are these, O my lady? Dost thou fear for them from thy sister?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. the sweetmeats of the feast provided for the returning traveller. The old woman (like others) cannot resist the temptation of a young man’s lips. Happily for him she goes so far and no farther.
2 The first, fourth, fifth and last names have already occurred: the others are in order, Star o’ Morn, Sun of Undtirn and Honour of Maidenhood. They are not merely fanciful, but are still used in Egypt and Syria.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman said to the Princess Manar al-Sana, “What words be these, O my lady? Dost thou fear for them from thy sister? Allah safeguard thy reason! Thou mayst not cross the Queen’s majesty in this matter, for she would be wroth with thee. However, O my lady, the children are young, and thou art excusable in fearing for them, for those that love well are wont to deem ill: but, O my daughter, thou knowest my tenderness and mine affection for thee and thy children, for indeed I reared thee before them. I will take them in my charge and make my cheek their pillow and open my heart and set them within, nor is it needful to charge me with care of them in the like of this case; so be of cheerful heart and tearless eye and send them to her, for, at the most, I shall but precede thee with them a day or at most two days.” And she ceased not to urge her, till she gave way, fearing her sister’s fury and unknowing what lurked for her in the dark future, and consented to send them with the old woman. So she called them and bathed them and equipped them and changed their apparel. Then she clad them in the two little coats of mail and delivered them to Shawahi, who took them and sped on with them like a bird, by another road than that by which their mother should travel, even as the Queen had charged her; nor did she cease to fare on with all diligence, being fearful for them, till she came in sight of Nur al-Huda’s city, when she crossed the river and entering the town, carried them in to their aunt. The Queen rejoiced at their sight and embraced them, and pressed them to her breast; after which she seated them, one upon the right thigh and the other upon the left; and turning round said to the old woman, “Fetch me Hasan forthright, for I have granted him my safeguard and have spared him from my sabre and he hath sought asylum in my house and taken up his abode in my courts, after having endured hardships and horrors and passed through all manner mortal risks, each terribler than other; yet hitherto is he not safe from drinking the cup of death and from cutting off his breath.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Queen Nur al-Huda bade the old woman bring Hasan she said, “Verily he hath endured hardships and horrors and passed through all manner mortal risks each terribler than other; yet hitherto he is not safe from death and from the cutting off of his breath.” Replied Shawahi, “An I bring him to thee, wilt thou reunite him with these his children? Or, if they prove not his, wilt thou pardon him and restore him to his own country?” Hearing these her words the Queen waxed exceeding wroth and cried to her, “Fie upon thee, O ill-omened old woman! How long wilt thou false us in the matter of this strange man who hath dared to intrude himself upon us and hath lifted our veil and pried into our conditions? Say me: thinkest thou that he shall come to our land and look upon our faces and betray our honour, and after return in safety to his own country and expose our affairs to his people, wherefore our report will be bruited abroad among all the Kings of the quarters of the earth and the merchants will journey bearing tidings of us in all directions, saying, ‘A mortal entered the Isles of Wak and traversed the Land of the Jinn and the lands of the Wild Beasts and the Islands of Birds and set foot in the country of the Warlocks and the Enchanters and returned in safety?’ This shall never be; no, never; and I swear by Him who made the Heavens and builded them; yea, by Him who dispread the earth and smoothed it, and who created all creatures and counted them, that, an they be not his children, I will assuredly slay him and strike his neck with mine own hand!” Then she cried out at the old woman, who fell down for fear; and set upon her the Chamberlain and twenty Mamelukes, saying, “Go with this crone and fetch me in haste the youth who is in her house.” So they dragged Shawahi along, yellow with fright and with side-muscles quivering, till they came to her house, where she went in to Hasan, who rose to her and kissed her hands and saluted her. She returned not his salam, but said to him, “Come; speak the Queen. Did I not say to thee: ‘Return presently to thine own country and I will give thee that to which no mortal may avail?’ And did I forbid thee from all this? But thou wouldst not obey me nor listen to my words; nay, thou rejectedst my counsel and chosest to bring destruction on me and on thyself. Up, then, and take that which thou hast chosen; for death is near hand. Arise: speak with yonder vile harlot1 and tyrant that she is!” So Hasan arose, broken-spirited, heavy, hearted, and full of fear, and crying, “O Preserver, preserve Thou me! O my God, be gracious to me in that which Thou hast decreed to me of Thine affliction and protect me, O Thou the most Merciful of the Mercifuls!” Then, despairing of his life, he followed the twenty Mamelukes, the Chamberlain and the crone to the Queen’s presence, where he found his two sons Nasir and Mansur sitting in her lap, whilst she played and made merry with them. As soon as his eyes fell on them, he knew them and crying a great cry fell down a-fainting for excess of joy at the sight of his children. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Fájirah” and elsewhere “Ahirah,” =whore and strumpet used often in loose talk as mere abuse without special meaning.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan’s eyes fell upon his two sons, he knew them both and crying a great cry fell down a-fainting. They also knew him1 and natural affection moved them so that they freed themselves from the Queen’s lap and fell upon Hasan, and Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty,) made them speak and say to him, “O our father!” Whereupon the old woman and all who were present wept for pity and tenderness over them and said, “Praised be Allah, who hath reunited you with your Sire!” Presently, Hasan came to himself and embracing his children, wept till again he swooned away, and when he revived, he recited these verses,
“By rights of you, this heart of mine could ne’er aby
Severance from you albeit Union death imply!
Your phantom saith to me, ‘A-morrow we shall meet!’
Shall I despite the foe the morrow-day espy?
By rights of you I swear, my lords, that since the day
Of severance ne’er the sweets of lips enjoyèd I!
An Allah bade me perish for the love of you,
Mid greatest martyrs for your love I lief will die.
Oft a gazelle doth make my heart her browsing stead
The while her form of flesh like sleep eludes mine eye:
If in the lists of Law my bloodshed she deny,
Prove it two witnesses those cheeks of ruddy dye.”
When Nur al-Huda was assured that the little ones were indeed Hasan’s children and that her sister, the Princess Manar al-Sana, was his wife, of whom he was come in quest, she was wroth against her with wrath beyond measure. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This to Westerns would seem a most improbable detail, but Easterns have their own ideas concerning “Al–Muhabbat al-ghariziyah” =natural affection, blood speaking to blood, etc.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur al-Huda was certified that the little ones were Hasan’s children and that her sister Manar al-Sana was his wife of whom he had come in quest, she raged with exceeding rage, too great to be assuaged and screamed in Hasan’s face and reviled him and kicked him in the breast, so that he fell on his back in a swoon. Then she cried out at him, saying, “Arise! fly for thy life. But that I swore that no evil should betide thee from me, should thy tale prove true, I would slay thee with mine own hand forthright!” And she cried out at the old woman, who fell on her face for fear, and said to her, “By Allah, but that I am loath to break the oath that I swore, I would put both thee and him to death after the foulest fashion!”; presently adding, “Arise, go out from before me in safety and return to thine own country, for I swear by my fortune, if ever mine eye espy thee or if any bring thee in to me after this, I will smite off thy head and that of whoso bringeth thee!” Then she cried out to her officers, saying, “Put him out from before me!” So they thrust him out, and when he came to himself, he recited these couplets,
“You’re far, yet to my heart you’re nearest near;
Absent yet present in my sprite you appear:
By Allah, ne’er to other I’ve inclined
But tyranny of Time in patience bear!
Nights pass while still I love you and they end,
And burns my breast with flames of fell Sa’ir;1
I was a youth who parting for an hour
Bore not, then what of months that make a year?
Jealous am I of breeze-breath fanning thee;
Yea jealous-mad of fair soft-sided fere!”
Then he once more fell down in a swoon, and when he came to himself, he found himself without the palace whither they had dragged him on his face; so he rose, stumbling over his skirts and hardly crediting his escape from Nur al-Huda. Now this was grievous to Shawahi; but she dared not remonstrate with the Queen by reason of the violence of her wrath. And forthright Hasan went forth, distracted and knowing not whence to come or whither to go; the world, for all its wideness, was straitened upon him and he found none to speak a kind word with him and comfort him, nor any to whom he might resort for counsel or to apply for refuge; wherefore he made sure of death for that he could not journey to his own country and knew none to travel with him, neither wist he the way thither nor might he pass through the Wady of the Jann and the Land of Beasts and the Islands of Birds. So giving himself up for lost he bewept himself, till he fainted, and when he revived, he bethought him of his children and his wife and of that might befal her with her sister, repenting him of having come to those countries and of having hearkened to none, and recited these couplets,
“Suffer mine eye-babes weep lost of love and tears express:
Rare is my solace and increases my distress:
The cup of Severance-chances to the dregs I’ve drained;
Who is the man to bear love-loss with manliness?
Ye spread the Carpet of Disgrace2 betwixt us twain;
Ah, when shalt be uprolled, O Carpet of Disgrace?
I watched the while you slept; and if you deemed that I
Forgot your love I but forget forgetfulness:
Woe’s me! indeed my heart is pining for the love
Of you, the only leaches who can cure my case:
See ye not what befel me from your fell disdain?
Debased am I before the low and high no less.
I hid my love of you but longing laid it bare,
And burns my heart wi’ fire of passion’s sorest stress:
Ah! deign have pity on my piteous case, for I
Have kept our troth in secresy and patent place!
Would Heaven I wot shall Time e’er deign us twain rejoin!
You are my heart’s desire, my sprite’s sole happiness:
My vitals bear the Severance-wound: would Heaven that you
With tidings from your camp would deign my soul to bless!”
Then he went on, till he came without the city, where he found the river, and walked along its bank, knowing not whither he went. Such was Hasan’s case; but as regards his wife Manar al-Sana, as she was about to carry out her purpose and to set out, on the second day after the departure of the old woman with her children, behold, there came in to her one of the chamberlains of the King her sire, and kissed ground between his hands — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 One of the Hells (see vol. iv. 143). Here it may be advisable to give the names of the Seven Heavens (which are evidently based upon Ptolemaic astronomy) and which correspond with the Seven Hells after the fashion of Arabian system-mania. (1) Dar al-Jalál (House of Glory) made of pearls; (2) Dár al-Salám (of Rest), rubies and jacinths; (3) Jannat al-Maawá (Garden of Mansions, not “of mirrors,” as Herklots has it, p. 98), made of yellow copper; (4) Jannat al-Khuld (of Eternity), yellow coral; (5) Jannat al-Na’ím (of Delights), white diamond; (6) Jannat al-Firdaus (of Paradise), red gold; and (7) Jannat al-‘Adn (of Eden, or Al–Karár= of everlasting abode, which some make No. 8), of red pearls or pure musk. The seven Hells are given in vol. v. 241; they are intended for Moslems (Jahannam); Christians (Lazà); Jews (Hutamah); Sabians (Sa’ir); Guebles (Sakar); Pagans or idolaters (Jahím); and Hypocrites (Háwiyah).
2 Arab. “‘Atb,” more literally= “blame,” “reproach.”
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Manar al-Sana was about to set out upon the journey, behold, a chamberlain of the King, her sire, came in to her and kissing the ground before her, said, “O Princess, the Supreme King, thy father saluteth thee and biddeth thee to him.” So she rose and accompanied the chamberlain to learn what was required by her father, who seated her by his side on the couch, and said to her, “O my daughter, know that I have this night had a dream which maketh me fear for thee and that long sorrow will betide thee from this thy journey.” Quoth she, “How so, O my father, and what didst thou see in thy dream?” and quoth he, “I dreamt that I entered a hidden hoard, wherein was great store of monies, of jewels, of jacinths and of other riches; but ’twas as if naught pleased me of all this treasure and jewelry save seven bezels, which were the finest things there. I chose out one of the seven jewels, for it was the smallest, finest and most lustrous of them and its water pleased me; so I took it in my hand-palm and fared forth of the treasury. When I came without the door, I opened my hand, rejoicing, and turned over the jewel, when, behold, there swooped down on me out of the welkin a strange bird from a far land (for it was not of the birds of our country) and, snatching it from my hand, returned with it whence it came.1 Whereupon sorrow and concern and sore vexation overcame me and my exceeding chagrin so troubled me that I awoke, mourning and lamenting for the loss of the jewel. At once on awaking I summoned the interpreters and expounders of dreams and declared to them my dream,2 and they said to me: ‘Thou hast seven daughters, the youngest of whom thou wilt lose, and she will be taken from thee perforce, without thy will.’ Now thou, O my girl, art the youngest and dearest of my daughters and the most affectionate of them to me, and look’ye thou art about to journey to thy sister, and I know not what may befal thee from her; so go thou not; but return to thy palace.” But when the Princess heard her father’s words, her heart fluttered and she feared for her children and bent earthwards her head awhile: then she raised it and said to her sire, “O King, Queen Nur al-Huda hath made ready for me an entertainment and awaiteth my coming to her, hour by hour. These four years she hath not seen me and if I delay to visit her, she will be wroth with me. The utmost of my stay with her shall be a month and then I will return to thee. Besides, who is the mortal who can travel our land and make his way to the Islands of Wak? Who can gain access to the White Country and the Black Mountain and come to the Land of Camphor and the Castle of Crystal, and how shall he traverse the Island of Birds and the Wady of Wild Beasts and the Valley of the Jann and enter our Islands? If any stranger came hither, he would be drowned in the seas of destruction: so be of good cheer and eyes without a tear anent my journey; for none may avail to tread our earth.” And she ceased not to persuade him, till he deigned give her leave to depart. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Princess ceased not to persuade him till he deigned give her leave to depart, and bade a thousand horse escort her to the river and abide there, till she entered her sister’s city and palace and returned to them, when they should take her and carry her back to him. Moreover, he charged her tarry with her sister but two days and return to him in haste; and she answered, “Hearing and obedience.” Then rising up she went forth and he with her and farewelled her. Now his words had sunken deep into her heart and she feared for her children; but it availeth not to fortify herself by any device against the onset of Destiny. So she set out and fared on diligently three days, till she came to the river and pitched her tents on its bank. Then she crossed the stream, with some of her counsellors, pages and suite and, going up to the city and the palace, went in to Queen Nur al-Huda, with whom she found her children who ran to her weeping and crying out, “O our father!” At this, the tears railed from her eyes and she wept; then she strained them to her bosom, saying, “What! Have you seen your sire at this time? Would the hour had never been, in which I left him! If I knew him to be in the house of the world, I would carry you to him.” Then she bemoaned herself and her husband and her children weeping and reciting these couplets,
“My friends, despight this distance and this cruelty,
I pine for you, incline to you where’er you be.
My glance for ever turns toward your hearth and home
And mourns my heart the bygone days you woned with me,
How many a night foregathered we withouten fear
One loving, other faithful ever, fain and free!”
When her sister saw her fold her children to her bosom, saying, “’Tis I who have done thus with myself and my children and have ruined my own house!” she saluted her not, but said to her, “O whore, whence haddest thou these children? Say, hast thou married unbeknown to thy sire or hast thou committed fornication?1 An thou have played the piece, it behoveth thou be exemplarily punished; and if thou have married sans our knowledge, why didst thou abandon thy husband and separate thy sons from thy sire and bring them hither?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Amongst Moslems bastardy is a sore offence and a love-child is exceedingly rare. The girl is not only carefully guarded but she also guards herself knowing that otherwise she will not find a husband. Hence seduction is all but unknown. The wife is equally well guarded and lacks opportunities hence adultery is found difficult except in books. Of the Ibn (or Walad) Harám (bastard as opposed to the Ibn Halál) the proverb says, “This child is not thine, so the madder he be the more is thy glee!” Yet strange to say public prostitution has never been wholly abolished in Al–Islam. Al–Mas’údi tells us that in Arabia were public prostitutes’(Bagháyá), even before the days of the Apostle, who affected certain quarters as in our day the Tartúshah of Alexandria and the Hosh Bardak of Cairo. Here says Herr Carlo Landberg (p. 57, Syrian Proverbs) “Elles parlent une langue toute à elle.” So pretentious and dogmatic a writer as the author of Proverbes et Dictons de la Province de Syrie, ought surely to have known that the Hosh Bardak is the head-quarters of the Cairene Gypsies. This author, who seems to write in order to learn, reminds me of an acute Oxonian undergraduate of my day who, when advised to take a “coach,” became a “coach” himself.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth Nur al-Huda, the Queen, to her sister Manar al-Sana, the Princess, “An thou have married sans our knowledge, why didst thou abandon thy husband and separate thy sons from their sire and bring them to our land? Thou hast hidden thy children from us. Thinkest thou we know not of this? Allah Almighty, He who is cognisant of the concealed, hath made known to us thy case and revealed thy condition and bared thy nakedness.” Then she bade her guards seize her and pinion her elbows and shackle her with shackles of iron. So they did as she commanded and she beat her with a grievous beating, so that her skin was torn, and hanged her up by the hair; after which she cast her in prison and wrote the King her father a writ acquainting him with her case and saying, “There hath appeared in our land a man, a mortal, by name Hasan, and our sister Manar al-Sana avoucheth that she is lawfully married to him and bare him two sons, whom she hath hidden from us and thee; nor did she discover aught of herself till there came to us this man and informed us that he wedded her and she tarried with him a long while; after which she took her children and departed, without his knowledge, bidding as she went his mother tell her son, whenas longing began to rack to come to her in the Islands of Wak. So we laid hands on the man and sent the old woman Shawahi to fetch her and her offspring, enjoining her to bring us the children in advance of her. And she did so, whilst Manar al-Sana equipped herself and set out to visit me. When the boys were brought to me and ere the mother came, I sent for Hasan the mortal who claimeth her to wife, and he on entering and at first sight knew them and they knew him; whereby was I certified that the children were indeed his children and that she was his wife and I learned that the man’s story was true and he was not to blame, but that the reproach and the infamy rested with my sister. Now I feared the rending of our honour-veil before the folk of our Isles; so when this wanton, this traitress, came in to me, I was incensed against her and cast her into prison and bastinado’d her grievously and hanged her up by the hair. Behold, I have acquainted thee with her case and it is thine to command, and whatso thou orderest us that we will do. Thou knowest that in this affair is dishonour and disgrace to our name and to thine, and haply the islanders will hear of it, and we shall become amongst them a byword; wherefore it befitteth thou return us an answer with all speed.” Then she delivered the letter to a courier and he carried it to the King, who, when he read it, was wroth with exceeding wrath with his daughter Manar al-Sana and wrote to Nur al-Huda, saying, “I commit her case to thee and give thee command over her life; so, if the matter be as thou sayest, kill her without consulting me.” When the Queen had received and read her father’s letter, she sent for Manar al-Sana and they set before her the prisoner drowned in her blood and pinioned with her hair, shackled with heavy iron shackles and clad in hair-cloth; and they made her stand in the presence abject and abashed. When she saw herself in this condition of passing humiliation and exceeding abjection, she called to mind her former high estate and wept with sore weeping and recited these two couplets,
“O Lord my foes are fain to slay me in despight
Nor deem I anywise to find escape by flight:
I have recourse to Thee t’ annul what they have done;
Thou art th’ asylum, Lord, of fearful suppliant wight.”
Then wept she grievously, till she fell down in a swoon, and presently coming to herself, repeated these two couplets,1
“Troubles familiar with my heart are grown and I with them,
Erst shunning; for the generous are sociable still.
Not one mere kind alone of woe doth lieger with me lie;
Praised be God! There are with me thousands of kinds of ill.”
And also these,
“Oft times Mischance shall straiten noble breast
With grief, whence issue is for Him to shape:
But when the meshes straitest, tightest, seem
They loose, though deemed I ne’er to find escape.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These lines occur in vol. vii. p. 340. I quote Mr. Payne.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Queen Nur al-Huda ordered into the presence her sister Princess Manar al-Sana, they set her between her hands and she, pinioned as she was recited the verses aforesaid. Then the Queen1 sent for a ladder of wood and made the eunuchs lay her on her back, with her arms spread out and bind her with cords thereto; after which she bared her head and wound her hair about the ladder-rungs and indeed all pity for her was rooted out from her heart. When Manar al-Sana saw herself in this state of abjection and humiliation, she cried out and wept; but none succoured her. Then said she to the Queen, “O my sister, how is thy heart hardened against me? Hast thou no mercy on me nor pity on these little children?” But her words only hardened her sister’s heart and she insulted her, saying, “O Wanton! O harlot! Allah have no ruth on whoso sueth for thee! How should I have compassion on thee, O traitress?” Replied Manar al-Sana who lay stretched on the ladder, “I appeal from thee to the Lord of the Heavens, concerning that wherewith thou revilest me and whereof I am innocent! By Allah, I have done no whoredom, but am lawfully married to him, and my Lord knoweth an I speak sooth or not! Indeed, my heart is wroth with thee, by reason of thine excessive hardheartedness against me! How canst thou cast at me the charge of harlotry, without knowledge? But my Lord will deliver me from thee and if that whoredom whereof thou accusest me be true, may He presently punish me for it!” Quoth Nur al-Huda after a few moments of reflection “How durst thou bespeak me thus?” and rose and beat her till she fainted away;2 whereupon they sprinkled water on her face till she revived; and in truth her charms were wasted for excess of beating and the straitness of her bonds and the sore insults she had suffered. Then she recited these two couplets,
“If aught I’ve sinned in sinful way,
Or done ill deed and gone astray,
The past repent I and I come
To you and for your pardon pray!”
When Nur al-Huda heard these lines, her wrath redoubled and she said to her, “Wilt speak before me in verse, O whore, and seek to excuse thyself for the mortal sins thou hast sinned? ’Twas my desire that thou shouldst return to thy husband, that I might witness thy wickedness and matchless brazenfacedness; for thou gloriest in thy lewdness and wantonness and mortal heinousness.” Then she called for a palm-stick and, whenas they brought the Jaríd, she arose and baring arms to elbows, beat her sister from head to foot; after which she called for a whip of plaited thongs, wherewith if one smote an elephant, he would start off at full speed, and came down therewith on her back and her stomach and every part of her body, till she fainted. When the old woman Shawahi saw this, she fled forth from the Queen’s presence, weeping and cursing her; but Nur al-Huda cried out to her eunuchs, saying, “Fetch her to me!” So they ran after her and seizing her, brought her back to the Queen, who bade throw her on the ground and making them lay hold of her, rose and took the whip, with which she beat her, till she swooned away, when she said to her waiting-women, “Drag this ill-omened beldam forth on her face and put her out.” And they did as she bade them. So far concerning them; but as regards Hasan, he walked on beside the river, in the direction of the desert, distracted, troubled, and despairing of life; and indeed he was dazed and knew not night from day for stress of affliction. He ceased not faring on thus, till he came to a tree whereto he saw a scroll hanging: so he took it and found written thereon these couplets,
“When in thy mother’s womb thou wast,
I cast thy case the bestest best;
And turned her heart to thee, so she
Fosterèd thee on fondest breast.
We will suffice thee in whate’er
Shall cause thee trouble or unrest;
We’ll aid thee in thine enterprise
So rise and bow to our behest.”
When he had ended reading this scroll, he made sure of deliverance from trouble and of winning reunion with those he loved. Then he walked forward a few steps and found himself alone in a wild and perilous wold wherein there was none to company with him; upon which his heart sank within him for horror and loneliness and his side-muscles trembled, for that fearsome place, and he recited these couplets,
“O Zephyr of Morn, an thou pass where the dear ones dwell,
Bear greeting of lover who ever in love-longing wones!
And tell them I’m pledged to yearning and pawned to pine
And the might of my passion all passion of lovers unthrones.
Their sympathies haply shall breathe in a Breeze like thee
And quicken forthright this framework of rotting bones.”3
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 She shows all the semi-maniacal rancour of a good woman, or rather a woman who has not broken the eleventh commandment, “Thou shalt not be found out,” against an erring sister who has been discovered. In the East also these unco’gúid dames have had, and too often have, the power to carry into effect the cruelty and diabolical malignity which in London and Paris must vent itself in scan. mag. and anonymous letters.
2 These faintings and trances are as common in the Romances of Chivalry e.g. Amadis of Gaul, where they unlace the garments to give more liberty, pour cold water on the face and bathe the temples and pulses with diluted vinegar (for rose water) exactly as they do in The Nights.
3 So Hafiz, “Bád-i-Sabá chu bugzarí” etc.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan read the scroll he was certified of deliverance from his trouble and made sure of winning reunion with those he loved. Then he walked forward a couple of steps and stopped finding himself alone in a wild and perilous wold wherein was none to company with him, so he wept sore and recited the verses before mentioned. Then he walked on a few steps farther beside the river, till he came upon two little boys of the sons of the sorcerers, before whom lay a rod of copper graven with talismans, and beside it a skull-cap1 of leather, made of three gores and wroughten in steel with names and characts. The cap and rod were upon the ground and the boys were disputing and beating each other, till the blood ran down between them; whilst each cried, “None shall take the wand but I.” So Hasan interposed and parted them, saying, “What is the cause of your contention?” and they replied, “O uncle, be thou judge of our case, for Allah the Most High hath surely sent thee to do justice between us.” Quoth Hasan, “Tell me your case, and I will judge between you;” and quoth one of them, “We twain are brothers-german and our sire was a mighty magician, who dwelt in a cave on yonder mountain. He died and left us this cap and rod; and my brother saith, ‘None shall have the rod but I,’ whilst I say the like; so be thou judge between us and deliver us each from other.” Hasan asked, “What is the difference between the rod and the cap and what is their value? The rod appears to be worth six coppers2 and the cap three;” whereto they answered, “Thou knowest not their properties.” “And what are their properties?” “Each of them hath a wonderful secret virtue, wherefore the rod is worth the revenue of all the Islands of Wak and their provinces and dependencies, and the cap the like!” “By Allah, O my sons, discover to me their secret virtues.” So they said, “O uncle, they are extraordinary; for our father wrought an hundred and thirty and five years at their contrivance, till he brought them to perfection and ingrafted them with secret attributes which might serve him extraordinary services and engraved them after the likeness of the revolving sphere, and by their aid he dissolved all spells; and when he had made an end of their fashion, Death, which all needs must suffer, overtook him. Now the hidden virtue of the cap is, that whoso setteth it on his head is concealed from all folks’ eyes, nor can any see him, whilst it remaineth on his head; and that of the rod is that whoso owneth it hath authority over seven tribes of the Jinn, who all serve the order and ordinance of the rod; and whenever he who possesseth it smiteth therewith on the ground, their Kings come to do him homage, and all the Jinn are at his service.” Now when Hasan heard these words, he bowed his head groundwards awhile, then said in himself, “By Allah, I shall conquer every foe by means of this rod and cap, Inshallah! and I am worthier of them both than these two boys. So I will go about forthright to get them from the twain by craft, that I may use them to free myself and my wife and children from yonder tyrannical Queen, and then we will depart from this dismal stead, whence there is no deliverance for mortal man nor flight. Doubtless, Allah caused me not to fall in with these two lads, but that I might get the rod and cap from them.” Then he raised his head and said to the two boys, “If ye would have me decide the case, I will make trial of you and see what each of you deserveth. He who overcometh his brother shall have the rod and he who faileth shall have the cap.” They replied,”‘O uncle, we depute thee to make trial of us and do thou decide between us as thou deems fit.” Hasan asked, “Will ye hearken to me and have regard to my words?”; and they answered, “Yes.” Then said he, “I will take a stone and throw it and he who outrunneth his brother thereto and picketh it up shall take the rod, and the other who is outraced shall take the cap.” And they said, “We accept and consent to this thy proposal.” Then Hasan took a stone and threw it with his might, so that it disappeared from sight. The two boys ran under and after it and when they were at a distance, he donned the cap and hending the rod in hand, removed from his place that he might prove the truth of that which the boys had said, with regard to their scant properties. The younger outran the elder and coming first to the stone, took it and returned with it to the place where they had left Hasan, but found no signs of him. So he called to his brother, saying, “Where is the man who was to be umpire between us?” Quoth the other, “I espy him not neither wot I whether he hath flown up to heaven above or sunk into earth beneath.” Then they sought for him, but saw him not, though all the while he was standing in his stead hard by them. So they abused each other, saying, “Rod and Cap are both gone; they are neither mine nor thine: and indeed our father warned us of this very thing; but we forgot whatso he said.” Then they retraced their steps and Hasan also entered the city, wearing the cap and bearing the rod; and none saw him. Now when he was thus certified of the truth of their speech, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and making the palace, went up into the lodging of Shawahi, who saw him not, because of the cap. Then he walked up to a shelf3 over her head upon which were vessels of glass and chinaware, and shook it with his hand, so that what was thereon fell to the ground. The old woman cried out and beat her face; then she rose and restored the fallen things to their places,4 saying in herself, “By Allah, methinks Queen Nur al-Huda hath sent a Satan to torment me, and he hath tricked me this trick! I beg Allah Almighty, deliver me from her and preserve me from her wrath, for, O Lord, if she deal thus abominably with her half-sister, beating and hanging her, dear as she is to her sire, how will she do with a stranger like myself, against whom she is incensed?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Takiyah.” See vol. i. 224 and for the Tarn–Kappe vol. iv. p. 176. In the Sinthásana Dwatrinsati (vulgo. Singhásan Battísí), or Thirty-two Tales of a Throne, we find a bag always full of gold, a bottomless purse; earth which rubbed on the forehead overcomes all; a rod which during the first watch of the night furnishes jewelled ornaments; in the second a beautiful girl; in the third invisibility, and in the fourth a deadly foe or death; a flower-garland which renders the possessor invisible and an unfading lotus-flower which produces a diamond every day.
2 Arab. “Judad,” plur. of Jadíd, lit.= new coin, ergo applied to those old and obsolete; 10 Judad were= one nusf or half dirham.
3 Arab. “Raff,” a shelf proper, running round the room about 7–7½ feet from the ground. During my day it was the fashion in Damascus to range in line along the Raff splendid porcelain bowls brought by the Caravans in olden days from China, whilst on the table were placed French and English specimens of white and gold “china” worth perhaps a franc each.
4 Lane supposes that the glass and china-ware had fallen upon the divan running round the walls under the Raff and were not broken.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the ancient Lady of Calamities cried, “When Queen Nur al-Huda doeth such misdeed to her sister, what will she do to a stranger like myself, against whom she is incensed?” Then said she, “I conjure thee, O devil, by the Most Compassionate, the Bountiful-great, the High of Estate, of Dominion Elate who man and Jinn did create, and by the writing upon the seal of Solomon David-son (on both be the Peace!) speak to me and answer me;” Quoth Hasan, “I am no devil; I am Hasan, the afflicted, the distraught.” Then he raised the cap from his head and appeared to the old woman, who knew him and taking him apart, said to him, “What is come to thy reason, that thou returnest hither? Go hide thee; for, if this wicked woman have tormented thy wife with such torments, and she her sister, what will she do, an she light on thee?” Then she told him all that had befallen his spouse and that wherein she was of travail and torment and tribulation, and straitly described all the pains she endured adding, “And indeed the Queen repenteth her of having let thee go and hath sent one after thee, promising him an hundred-weight of gold and my rank in her service; and she hath sworn that, if he bring thee back, she will do thee and thy wife and children dead.” And she shed tears and discovered to Hasan what the Queen had done with herself, whereat he wept and said, “O my lady, how shall I do to escape from this land and deliver myself and my wife and children from this tyrannical Queen and how devise to return with them in safety to my own country?” Replied the old woman, “Woe to thee! Save thyself.” Quoth he, “There is no help but I deliver her and my children from the Queen perforce and in her despite;” and quoth Shawahi, “How canst thou forcibly rescue them from her? Go and hide thyself, O my son, till Allah Almighty empower thee.” Then Hasan showed her the rod and the cap, whereat she rejoiced with joy exceeding and cried, “Glory be to Him who quickeneth the bones, though they be rotten! By Allah, O my son, thou and thy wife were but of lost folk; now, however, thou art saved, thou and thy wife and children! For I know the rod and I know its maker, who was my Shaykh in the science of Gramarye. He was a mighty magician and spent an hundred and thirty and five years working at this rod and cap, till he brought them to perfection, when Death the Inevitable overtook him. And I have heard him say to his two boys, ‘O my sons, these two things are not of your lot, for there will come a stranger from a far country, who will take them from you by force, and ye shall not know how he taketh them.’ Said they, ‘O our father, tell us how he will avail to take them.’ But he answered, ‘I wot not.’ And O my son,” added she, “how availedst thou to take them?” So he told her how he had taken them from the two boys, whereat she rejoiced and said, “O my son, since thou hast gotten the whereby to free thy wife and children, give ear to what I shall say to thee. For me there is no woning with this wicked woman, after the foul fashion in which she durst use me; so I am minded to depart from her to the caves of the Magicians and there abide with them until I die. But do thou, O my son, don the cap and hend the rod in hand and enter the place where thy wife and children are. Unbind her bonds and smite the earth with the rod saying, ‘Be ye present, O servants of these names!’ whereupon the servants of the rod will appear; and if there present himself one of the Chiefs of the Tribes, command him whatso thou shalt wish and will.” So he farewelled her and went forth, donning the cap and hending the rod, and entered the place where his wife was. He found her well-nigh lifeless, bound to the ladder by her hair, tearful-eyed and woeful-hearted, in the sorriest of plights, knowing no way to deliver herself. Her children were playing under the ladder, whilst she looked at them and wept for them and herself, because of the barbarities and sore treatings and bitter penalties which had befallen her; and he heard her repeat these couplets1,
“There remained not aught save a fluttering, breath and an eye whose owner is confounded.
And a desirous lover whose bowels are burned with fire notwithstanding which she is silent.
The exulting foe pitieth her at the sight of her.
Alas for her whom the exulting foe pitieth!”
When Hasan saw her in this state of torment and misery and ignominy and infamy, he wept till he fainted; and when he recovered he saw his children playing and their mother aswoon for excess of pain; so he took the cap from his head and the children saw him and cried out, “O our father!” Then he covered his head again and the Princess came to herself, hearing their cry, but saw only her children weeping and shrieking, “O our father!” When she heard them name their sire and weep, her heart was broken and her vitals rent asunder and she said to them, “What maketh you in mind of your father at this time?” And she wept sore and cried out, from a bursten liver and an aching bosom, “Where are ye and where is your father?” Then she recalled the days of her union with Hasan and what had befallen her since her desertion of him and wept with sore weeping till her cheeks were seared and furrowed and her face was drowned in a briny flood. Her tears ran down and wetted the ground and she had not a hand loose to wipe them from her cheeks, whilst the flies fed their fill on her skin, and she found no helper but weeping and no solace but improvising verses. Then she repeated these couplets,
“I call to mind the parting-day that rent our loves in twain,
When, as I turned away, the tears in very streams did rain.
The cameleer urged on his beasts with them, what while I found
Nor strength nor fortitude, nor did my heart with me remain.
Yea, back I turned, unknowing of the road nor might shake off
The trance of grief and longing love that numbed my heart and brain;
And worst of all betided me, on my return, was one
Who came to me, in lowly guise, to glory in my pain.
Since the belovèd’s gone, O soul, forswear the sweet of life
Nor covet its continuance, for, wanting him, ’twere vain.
List, O my friend, unto the tale of love, and God forbid
That I should speak and that thy heart to hearken should not deign!
As ’twere El Asmaï himself, of passion I discourse
Fancies rare and marvellous, linked in an endless chain.”2
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She continued, When Hasan went in to his wife he saw his children and heard her repeating the verses afore mentioned.1 Then she turned right and left, seeking the cause of her children’s crying out, “O our father!” but saw no one and marvelled that her sons should name their sire at that time and call upon him. But when Hasan heard her verses, he wept till he swooned away and the tears railed down his cheeks like rain. Then he drew near the children and raised the cap from his head unseen of his wife, whereupon they saw him and they knew him and cried out, saying, “O our father!” Their mother fell a-weeping again, when she heard them name their sire’s name and said, “There is no avoiding the doom which Almighty Allah hath decreed!” adding, “O Strange! What garreth them think of their father at this time and call upon him, albeit it is not of their wont?” Then she wept and recited these couplets,
“The land of lamping moon is bare and drear;
O eyne of me pour forth the brimming tear!
They marched: how shall I now be patient?
That I nor heart nor patience own I swear!
O ye, who marched yet bide in heart of me,
Will you, O lords of me, return to that we were?
What harm if they return and I enjoy
Meeting, and they had ruth on tears of care?
Upon the parting-day they dimmed these eyne,
For sad surprise, and lit the flames that flare.
Sore longed I for their stay, but Fortune stayed
Longings and turned my hope to mere despair.
Return to us (O love!) by Allah, deign!
Enow of tears have flowed for absence-bane.”
Then Hasan could no longer contain himself, but took the cap from his head; whereupon his wife saw him and recognising him screamed a scream which startled all in the palace, and said to him, “How camest thou hither? From the sky hast thou dropped or through the earth hast thou come up?” And her eyes brimmed with tears and Hasan also wept. Quoth she, “O man, this be no time for tears or blame. Fate hath had its course and the sight was blinded and the Pen hath run with what was ordained of Allah when Time was begun: so, Allah upon thee, whencesoever thou comest, go hide, lest any espy thee and tell my sister and she do thee and me die!” Answered he, “O my lady and lady of all Queens, I have adventured myself and come hither, and either I will die or I will deliver thee from this strait and travel with thee and my children to my country, despite the nose of this thy wickedest sister.” But as she heard his words she smiled and for awhile fell to shaking her head and said, “Far, O my fife, far is it from the power of any except Allah Almighty to deliver me from this my strait! Save thyself by flight and wend thy ways and cast not thyself into destruction; for she hath conquering hosts none may withstand. Given that thou tookest me and wentest forth, how canst thou make thy country and escape from these islands and the perils of these awesome places? Verily, thou hast seen on thy way hither, the wonders, the marvels, the dangers and the terrors of the road, such as none may escape, not even one of the rebel Jinns. Depart, therefore, forthright and add not cark to my cark and care to my care, neither do thou pretend to rescue me from this my plight; for who shall carry me to thy country through all these vales and thirsty wolds and fatal steads?” Rejoined Hasan, “By thy life, O light of mine eyes, I will not depart this place nor fare but with thee!” Quoth she, “O man! How canst thou avail unto this thing and what manner of man art thou? Thou knowest not what thou sayest! None can escape from these realms, even had he command over Jinns, Ifrits, magicians, chiefs of tribes and Marids. Save thyself and leave me; perchance Allah will bring about good after ill.” Answered Hasan, “O lady of fair ones, I came not save to deliver thee with this rod and with this cap.” And he told her what had befallen him with the two boys; but, whilst he was speaking, behold, up came the Queen and heard their speech. Now when he was ware of her, he donned the cap and was hidden from sight, and she entered and said to the Princess, “O wanton, who is he with whom thou wast talking?” Answered Manar al-Sanar, “Who is with me that should talk with me, except these children?” Then the Quee took the whip and beat her, whilst Hasan stood by and looked on, nor did she leave beating her till she fainted; whereupon she bade transport her to another place. So they loosed her and carried her to another chamber whilst Hasan followed unseen. There they cast her down, senseless, and stood gazing upon her, till she revived and recited these couplets,2
“I have sorrowed on account of our disunion with a sorrow that made the tears to overflow from my eyelids;
And I vowed that if Fortune reunite us, I would never again mention our separation;
And I would say to the envious, Die ye with regret; By Allah I have now attained my desire!
Joy hath overwhelmed me to such a degree that by its excess it hath made me weep.
O eye, how hath weeping become thy habit? Thou weepest in joy as well, as in sorrows.”
When she ceased her verse the slave-girls went out from her and Hasan took off the cap; whereupon his wife said to him, “See, O man, all this befel me not save by reason of my having rebelled against thee and transgressed thy commandment and gone forth without thy leave.3 So, Allah upon thee blame me not for my sins and know that women never wot a man’s worth till they have lost him. Indeed, I have offended and done evil; but I crave pardon of Allah Almighty for whatso I did, and if He reunite us, I will never again gainsay thee in aught, no, never!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Hasan’s wife besought pardon of him saying, “Blame me not for my sin; and indeed I crave mercy of Allah Almighty.” Quoth Hasan (and indeed his heart ached for her), “’Twas not thou that wast in fault; nay, the fault was mine and mine only, for I fared forth and left thee with one who knew not thy rank, neither thy worth nor thy degree. But know, O beloved of my heart and fruit of my vitals and light of mine eyes, that Allah (blessed be He!) hath ordained to me power of releasing thee; so, say me, wouldst thou have me carry thee to thy father’s home, there to accomplish what Allah decreeth unto thee, or wilt thou forthright depart with me to mine own country, now that relief is come to thee?” Quoth she, “Who can deliver me save the Lord of the Heavens? Go to thy motherland and put away from thee false hope; for thou knowest not the perils of these parts which, an thou obey me not, soon shalt thou sight.” And she improvised these couplets,
“On me and with me bides thy volunty;
Why then such anger such despite to me?
Whate’er befel us Heaven forbid that love
Fade for long time or e’er forgotten be!
Ceased not the spy to haunt our sides, till seen
Our love estranged and then estranged was he:
In truth I trusted to fair thoughts of thine
Though spake the wicked spy maliciously.
We’ll keep the secret ‘twixt us twain and bold
Although the brand of blame unsheathed we see.
The livelong day in longing love I spend
Hoping acceptance-message from my friend.”
Then wept she and her children, and the handmaidens heard them: so they came in to them and found them weeping, but saw not Hasan with them; wherefore they wept for ruth of them and damned Queen Nur al-Huda. Then Hasan took patience till night came on and her guards had gone to their sleeping-places, when he arose and girded his waist; then went up to her and, loosing her, kissed her on the head and between the eyes and pressed her to his bosom, saying, “How long have we wearied for our mother-land and for reunion there! Is this our meeting in sleep, or on wake?” Then he took up the elder boy and she took up the younger and they went forth the palace; and Allah veiled them with the veil of His protection, so that they came safe to the outer gate which closed the entrance to the Queen’s Serraglio. But finding it locked from without, Hasan said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him shall we return!” With this they despaired of escape and Hasan beat hand upon hand, saying, “O Dispeller of dolours! Indeed, I had bethought me of every thing and considered its conclusion but this; and now, when it is daybreak, they will take us, and what device have we in this case?” And he recited the following two couplets,1
“Thou madest fair thy thought of Fate, whenas the days were fair,
And fearedst not the unknown ills that they to thee might bring.
The nights were fair and calm to thee; thou wast deceived by them,
For in the peace of night is born full many a troublous thing.”
Then Hasan wept and his wife wept for his weeping and for the abasement she had suffered and the cruelties of Time and Fortune,
“Baulks me my Fate as tho’ she were my foe;
Each day she showeth me new cark and care:
Fate, when I aim at good, brings clear reverse,
And lets foul morrow wait on day that’s fair.”
And also these,
“Irks me my Fate and clean unknows that I
Of my high worth her shifts and shafts despise.
She nights parading what ill-will she works:
I night parading Patience to her eyes.”
Then his wife said to him, “By Allah, there is no relief for us but to kill ourselves and be at rest from this great and weary travail; else we shall suffer grievous torment on the morrow.” At this moment, behold, they heard a voice from without the door say, “By Allah, O my lady Manar al-Sana, I will not open to thee and thy husband Hasan, except ye obey me in whatso I shall say to you!” When they heard these words they were silent for excess of fright and would have returned whence they came; when lo! the voice spake again saying, “What aileth you both to be silent and answer me not?” Therewith they knew the speaker for the old woman Shawahi, Lady of Calamities, and said to her, “Whatsoever thou biddest us, that will we do; but first open the door to us; this being no time for talk.” Replied she, “By Allah, I will not open to you until ye both swear to me that you will take me with you and not leave me with yonder whore: so, whatever befalleth you shall befal me and if ye escape, I shall escape, and if ye perish, I shall perish: for yonder abominable woman, tribade2 that she is! entreateth me with indignity and still tormenteth me on your account; and thou, O my daughter, knowest my worth.” Now recognising her they trusted in her and sware to her an oath such as contented her, whereupon she opened the door to them and they fared forth and found her riding on a Greek jar of red earthenware with a rope of palm-fibres about its neck,3 which rolled under her and ran faster than a Najdi colt, and she came up to them, and said, “Follow me and fear naught, for I know forty modes of magic by the least of which I could make this city a dashing sea, swollen with clashing billows, and ensorcel each damsel therein to a fish, and all before dawn. But I was not able to work aught of my mischief, for fear of the King her father and of regard to her sisters, for that they are formidable, by reason of their many guards and tribesmen and servants. However, soon will I show you wonders of my skill in witchcraft; and now let us on, relying upon the blessing of Allah and His good aid.” Now Hasan and his wife rejoiced in this, making sure of escape, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These lines occur in vol. i. 25: so I quote Mr. Payne.
2 Arab. “Musáhikah;” the more usual term for a Tribade is “Sahíkah” from “Sahk” in the sense of rubbing: both also are applied to onanists and masturbators of the gender feminine.
3 i.e. by way of halter. This jar is like the cask in Auerbach’s Keller; and has already been used by witches; Night dlxxxvii. vol. vi. 158.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan and his wife, accompanied by the ancient dame Shawahi, fared forth from the palace, they made sure of deliverance and they walked on till they came without the city, when he fortified his heart and, smiting the earth with the rod, cried, “Ho, ye servants of these names, appear to me and acquaint me with your conditions!” Thereupon the earth clave asunder and out came ten1 Ifrits, with their feet in the bowels of the earth and their heads in the clouds. They kissed the earth three times before Hasan and said as with one voice, “Adsumus! Here are we at thy service, O our lord and ruler over us! What dost thou bid us do? For we hear and obey thy commandment. An thou wilt, we will dry thee up seas and remove mountains from their places.” So Hasan rejoiced in their words and at their speedy answer to his evocation then taking courage and bracing up his resolution, he said to them, “Who are ye and what be your names and your races, and to what tribes and clans and companies appertain ye?” They kissed the earth once more and answered as with one voice, saying, “We are seven Kings, each ruling over seven tribes of the Jinn of all conditions, and Satans and Marids, flyers and divers, dwellers in mountains and wastes and wolds and haunters of the seas: so bid us do whatso thou wilt; for we are thy servants and thy slaves, and whoso possesseth this rod hath dominion over an our necks and we owe him obedience.” Now when Hasan heard this, he rejoiced with joy exceeding, as did his wife and the old woman, and presently he said to the Kings of the Jinn, “I desire of you that ye show me your tribes and hosts and guards.” “O our lord,” answered they, “if we show thee our tribes, we fear for thee and these who are with thee, for their name is legion and they are various in form and fashion, figure and favour. Some of us are heads sans bodies and others bodies sans heads, and others again are in the likeness of wild beasts and ravening lions. However, if this be thy will, there is no help but we first show thee those of us who are like unto wild beasts. But, O our lord, what wouldst thou of us at this present?” Quoth Hasan, “I would have you carry me forthwith to the city of Baghdad, me and my wife and this honest woman.” But, hearing his words they hung down their heads and were silent, whereupon Hasan asked them, “Why do ye not reply?” And they answered as with one voice, “O our lord and ruler over us, we are of the covenant of Solomon son of David (on the twain be Peace!) and he sware us in that we would bear none of the sons of Adam on our backs; since which time we have borne no mortal on back or shoulder: but we will straightway harness thee horses of the Jinn, that shall carry thee and thy company to thy country.” Hasan enquired, “How far are we from Baghdad?” and they, “Seven years’ journey for a diligent horseman.” Hasan marvelled at this and said to them, “Then how came I hither in less than a year?”; and they said, “Allah softened to thee the hearts of His pious servants else hadst thou never come to this country nor hadst thou set eyes on these regions; no, never! For the Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus, who mounted thee on the elephant and the magical horse, traversed with thee, in ten days, three years’ journey for a well-girt rider, and the Ifrit Dahnash, to whom the Shaykh committed thee, carried thee a three years’ march in a day and a night; all which was of the blessing of Allah Almighty, for that the Shaykh Abu al-Ruwaysh is of the seed of Asaf bin Barkhiyá2 and knoweth the Most Great name of Allah. 3 Moreover, from Baghdad to the palace of the damsels is a year’s journey, and this maketh up the seven years.” When Hasan heard this, he marvelled with exceeding marvel and cried, “Glory be to God, Facilitator of the hard, Fortifier of the weak heart, Approximator of the far and Humbler of every froward tyrant, Who hath eased us of every accident and carried me to these countries and subjected to me these creatures and reunited me with my wife and children! I know not whether I am asleep or awake or if I be sober or drunken!” Then he turned to the Jinn and asked, “When ye have mounted me upon your steeds, in how many days will they bring us to Baghdad?”; and they answered, “They will carry you thither under the year, but not till after ye have endured terrible perils and hardships and horrors and ye have traversed thirsty Wadys and frightful wastes and horrible steads without number; and we cannot promise thee safety, O our lord, from the people of these islands,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Here they are ten but afterwards they are reduced to seven: I see no reason for changing the text with Lane and Payne.
2 Wazir of Solomon. See vol. i. 42; and vol. iii. 97.
3 Arab. “Ism al-A’azam,” the Ineffable Name, a superstition evidently derived from the Talmudic fancies of the Jews concerning their tribal god, Yah or Yahvah.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Jann said to Hasan, “We cannot promise thee safety, O our lord, from this Islandry, nor from the mischief of the Supreme King and his enchanters and warlocks. It may be they will overcome us and take you from us and we fall into affliction with them, and all to whom the tidings shall come after this will say to us: ‘Ye are wrong-doers! How could ye go against the Supreme King and carry a mortal out of his dominions, and eke the King’s daughter with him?’ adding, ‘Wert thou alone with us the thing were light; but He who conveyed thee hither is capable to carry thee back to thy country and reunite thee with thine own people forthright and in readiest plight. So take heart and put thy trust in Allah and fear not; for we are at thy service, to convey thee to thy country.” Hasan thanked them therefor and said, “Allah requite you with good! but now make haste with the horses;” they replied, “We hear and we obey,” and struck the ground with their feet, whereupon it opened and they disappeared within it and were absent awhile, after which they suddenly reappeared with three horses, saddled and bridled, and on each saddle-bow a pair of saddle-bags, with a leathern bottle of water in one pocket and the other full of provaunt. So Hasan mounted one steed and took a child before him, whilst his wife mounted a second and took the other child before her. Then the old woman alighted from the jar and bestrode the third horse and they rode on, without ceasing, all night. At break of day, they turned aside from the road and made for the mountain, whilst their tongues ceased not to name Allah. Then they fared on under the highland all that day, till Hasan caught sight of a black object afar as it were a tall column of smoke a-twisting skywards; so he recited somewhat of the Koran and Holy Writ, and sought refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned. The black thing grew plainer as they drew near, and when hard by it, they saw that it was an Ifrit, with a head like a huge dome and tusks like grapnels and jaws like a lane and nostrils like ewers and ears like leathern targes and mouth like a cave and teeth like pillars of stone and hands like winnowing forks and legs like masts: his head was in the cloud and his feet in the bowels of the earth had plowed. Whenas Hasan gazed upon him he bowed himself and kissed the ground before him, saying, “O Hasan, have no fear of me; for I am the chief of the dwellers in this land, which is the first of the Isles of Wak, and I am a Moslem and an adorer of the One God. I have heard of you and your coming and when I knew of your case, I desired to depart from the land of the magicians to another land, void of inhabitants and far from men and Jinn, that I might dwell there alone and worship Allah till my fated end came upon me. So I wish to accompany you and be your guide, till ye fare forth of the Wak Islands; and I will not appear save at night; and do ye hearten your hearts on my account; for I am a Moslem, even as ye are Moslems.” When Hasan heard the Ifrit’s words, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and made sure of deliverance; and he said to him, “Allah requite thee weal! Go with us relying upon the blessing of Allah!” So the Ifrit forewent them and they followed, talking and making merry, for their hearts were pleased and their breasts were eased and Hasan fell to telling his wife all that had befallen him and all the hardships he had undergone, whilst she excused herself to him and told him, in turn, all she had seen and suffered. They ceased not faring all that night. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that they ceased not faring all that night and the horses bore them like the blinding leven, and when the day rose all put their hands to the saddle-bags and took forth provaunt which they ate and water which they drank. Then they sped diligently on their way, preceded by the Ifrit, who turned aside with them from the beaten track into another road, till then untrodden, along the seashores and they ceased not faring on, without stopping, across Wadys and wolds a whole month, till on the thirty-first day there arose before them a dust-cloud, that walled the world and darkened the day; and when Hasan saw this, he was confused and turned pale; and more so when a frightful crying and clamour struck their ears. There, upon the old woman said to him, “O my son, this is the army of the Wak Islands, that hath overtaken us; and presently they will lay violent hands on us.” Hasan asked, “What shall I do, O my mother?”; and she answered, “Strike the earth with the rod.” He did so whereupon the Seven Kings presented themselves and saluted him with the salam, kissing ground before him and saying, “Fear not neither grieve.” Hasan rejoiced at these words and answered them, saying, “Well said, O Princes of the Jinn and the Ifrits! This is your time!” Quoth they, “Get ye up to the mountain-top, thou and thy wife and children and she who is with thee and leave us to deal with them, for we know that you all are in the right and they in the wrong and Allah will aid us against them.” So Hasan and his wife and children and the old woman dismounted and dismissing the horses, ascended the flank of the mountain. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Hasan with his wife, his children and the ancient dame ascended the mountain-flank after they had dismissed the coursers. Presently, up came Queen Nur al-Huda, with the troops right and left, and the captains went round about among the host and ranged them rank by rank in battle array. Then the hosts charged down upon each other and clashed together the twain with a mighty strain, the brave pressed on amain and the coward to fly was fain and the Jinn cast flames of fire from their mouths, whilst the smoke of them rose up to the confines of the sky and the two armies appeared and disappeared. The champions fought and heads flew from trunks and the blood ran in rills; nor did brand leave to play and blood to flow and battle fire to flow, till the murk o’ night came, when the two hosts drew apart and, alighting from their steeds rested upon the field by the fires they had kindled. Therewith the Seven Kings went up to Hasan and kissed the earth before him. He pressed forwards to meet them and thanked them and prayed Allah to give them the victory and asked them how they had fared with the Queen’s troops. Quoth they, “They will not withstand us more than three days, for we had the better of them to-day, taking some two thousand of them prisoners and slaying of them much folk whose compt may not be told. So be of good cheer and broad of breast.” Then they farewelled him and went down to look after the safety of their troops; and they ceased not to keep up the fires till the morning rose with its sheen and shone, when the fighting-men mounted their horses of noble strain and smote one another with thin-edged skean and with brawn of bill they thrust amain nor did they cease that day battle to darraign. Moreover, they passed the night on horseback clashing together like dashing seas; raged among them the fires of war and they stinted not from battle and jar, till the armies of Wak were defeated and their power broken and their courage quelled; their feet slipped and whither they fled soever defeat was before them; wherefore they turned tail and of flight began to avail: but the most part of them were slain and their Queen and her chief officers and the grandees of her realm were captive ta’en. When the morning morrowed, the Seven Kings presented themselves before Hasan and set for him a throne of alabaster inlaid with pearls and jewels, and he sat down thereon. They also set thereby a throne of ivory, plated with glittering gold, for the Princess Manar al-Sana and another for the ancient dame Shawahi Zat al-Dawahi. Then they brought before them the prisoners and among the rest, Queen Nur al-Huda with elbows pinioned and feet fettered, whom when Shawahi saw, she said to her, “Thy recompense, O harlot, O tyrant, shall be that two bitches be starved and two mares stinted of water, till they be athirst: then shalt thou be bound to the mares’ tails and these driven to the river, with the bitches following thee that they may rend thy skin; and after, thy flesh shall be cut off and given them to eat. How couldst thou do with thy sister such deed, O strumpet, seeing that she was lawfully married, after the ordinance of Allah and of His Apostle? For there is no monkery in Al–Islam and marriage is one of the institutions of the Apostles (on whom be the Peace!)1 nor were women created but for men.” Then Hasan commanded to put all the captives to the sword and the old woman cried out, saying, “Slay them all and spare none2!” But, when Princess Manar al-Sana saw her sister in this plight, a bondswoman and in fetters, she wept over her and said, “O my sister, who is this hath conquered us and made us captives in our own country?” Quoth Nur al-Huda, “Verily, this is a mighty matter. Indeed this man Hasan hath gotten the mastery over us and Allah hath given him dominion over us and over all our realm and he hath overcome us, us and the Kings of the Jinn.” And quoth her sister, “Indeed, Allah aided him not against you nor did he overcome you nor capture you save by means of this cap and rod.” So Nur al-Huda was certified and assured that he had conquered her by means thereof and humbled herself to her sister, till she was moved to ruth for her and said to her husband, “What wilt thou do with my sister? Behold, she is in thy hands and she hath done thee no misdeed that thou shouldest punish her.” Replied Hasan, “Her torturing of thee was misdeed enow.” But she answered, saying, “She hath excuse for all she did with me. As for thee, thou hast set my father’s heart on fire for the loss of me, and what will be his case, if he lose my sister also?” And he said to her, “’Tis thine to decide; do whatso thou wilt.” So she bade loose her sister and the rest of the captives, and they did her bidding. Then she went up to Queen Nur al-Huda and embraced her, and they wept together a long while; after which quoth the Queen, “O my sister, bear me not malice for that I did with thee;” and quoth Manar al-Sana, “O my sister, this was foreordained to me by Fate.” Then they sat on the couch talking and Manar al-Sana made peace between the old woman and her sister, after the goodliest fashion, and their hearts were set at ease. Thereupon Hasan dismissed the servants of the rod thanking them for the succour which they had afforded him against his foes, and Manar al-Sana related to her sister all that had befallen her with Hasan her husband and every thing he had suffered for her sake, saying, “O my sister, since he hath done these deeds and is possessed of this might and Allah Almighty hath gifted him with such exceeding prowess, that he hath entered our country and beaten thine army and taken thee prisoner and defied our father, the Supreme King, who hath dominion over all the Princes of the Jinn, it behoveth us to fail not of what is due to him.” Replied Nur al-Huda, “By Allah, O my sister, thou sayest sooth in whatso thou tellest me of the marvels which this man hath seen and suffered; and none may fail of respect to him. But was all this on thine account, O my sister?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The tradition is that Mohámmed asked Akáf al-Wadá‘ah “Hast a wife?”; and when answered in the negative, “Then thou appertainest to the brotherhood of Satans! An thou wilt be one of the Christian monks then company therewithal; but an thou be of us, know that it is our custom to marry!”
2 The old woman, in the East as in the West, being the most vindictive of her kind. I have noted (Pilgrimage iii. 70) that a Badawi will sometimes though in shame take the blood-wit; but that if it be offered to an old woman she will dash it to the ground and clutch her knife and fiercely swear by Allah that she will not eat her son’s blood.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Princess Manar al-Sana repeated to her sister these praises of Hasan, the other replied, “By Allah, this man can claim all respect more by token of his generosity. But was all this on thine account?” “Yes,” answered Manar al-Sana, and they passed the night in converse till the morning morrowed and the sun rose and they were minded to depart. So they farewelled one another and Manar al-Sana gave God-speed to the ancient dame after the reconciling her with Queen Nur al-Huda. Thereupon Hasan smote the earth with the rod and its servants the Jinn appeared and saluted him, saying, “Praised be Allah, who hath set thy soul at rest! Command us what thou wilt, and we will do it for thee in less than the twinking of an eye.” He thanked them for their saying and said to them “Allah requite you with good! Saddle me two steeds of the best.” So they brought him forthwith two saddled coursers, one of which he mounted, taking his elder son before him, and his wife rode the other, taking the younger son in front of her. Then the Queen and the old woman also backed horse and departed, Hasan and his wife following the right and Nur al-Huda and Shawahi the left hand road. The spouses fared on with their children, without stopping, for a whole month, till they drew in sight of a city, which they found compassed about with trees and streams and, making the trees, dismounted beneath them thinking to rest there. As they sat talking, behold, they saw many horsemen coming towards them, whereupon Hasan rose and going to meet them, saw that it was King Hassun, lord of the Land of Camphor and Castle of Crystal, with his attendants. So Hasan went up to the King and kissed his hands and saluted him; and when Hassun saw him, he dismounted and seating himself with Hasan upon carpets under the trees returned his salam and gave him joy of his safety and rejoiced in him with exceeding joy, saying to him, “O Hasan, tell me all that hath befallen thee, first and last.” So he told him all of that, whereupon the King marvelled and said to him, “O my son, none ever reached the Islands of Wak and returned thence but thou, and indeed thy case is wondrous; but Alhamdolillah — praised be God — for safety!” Then he mounted and bade Hasan ride with his wife and children into the city, where he lodged them in the guest-house of his palace; and they abode with him three days, eating and drinking in mirth and merriment, after which Hasan sought Hassun’s leave to depart to his own country and the King granted it. Accordingly they took horse and the King rode with them ten days, after which he farewelled them and turned back, whilst Hasan and his wife and children fared on a whole month, at the end of which time they came to a great cavern, whose floor was of brass. Quoth Hasan to his wife, “Kennest thou yonder cave?”; and quoth she, “No.” Said he, “Therein dwelleth a Shaykh, Abu al-Ruwaysh hight, to whom I am greatly beholden, for that he was the means of my becoming acquainted with King Hassun.” Then he went on to tell her all that had passed between him and Abu al-Ruwaysh, and as he was thus engaged, behold, the Shaykh himself issued from the cavernmouth. When Hasan saw him, he dismounted from his steed and kissed his hands, and the old man saluted him and gave him joy of his safety and rejoiced in him. Then he carried him into the antre and sat down with him, whilst Hasan related to him what had befallen him in the Islands of Wak; whereat the Elder marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, “O Hasan, how didst thou deliver thy wife and children?” So he told them the tale of the cap and the rod, hearing which he wondered and said, “O Hasan, O my son, but for this rod and the cap, thou hadst never delivered thy wife and children.” And he replied, “Even so, O my lord.” As they were talking, there came a knocking at the door and Abu al-Ruwaysh went out and found Abd al-Kaddus mounted on his elephant. So he saluted him and brought him into the cavern, where he embraced Hasan and congratulated him on his safety, rejoicing greatly in his return. Then said Abu al-Ruwaysh to Hasan, “Tell the Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus all that hath befallen thee, O Hasan.” He repeated to him every thing that had passed, first and last, till he came to the tale of the rod and cap — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Hasan began relating to Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus and Shaykh Abu al-Ruwaysh (who sat chattting in the cave) all that had passed, first and last, till he came to the tale of the rod and cap; where, upon quoth Abd al-Kaddus, “O my son, thou hast delivered thy wife and thy children and hast no further need of the two. Now we were the means of thy winning to the Islands of Wak, and I have done thee kindness for the sake of my nieces, the daughters of my brother; wherefore I beg thee, of thy bounty and favour, to give me the rod and the Shaykh Abu al-Ruwaysh the cap.” When Hasan heard this, he hung down his head, being ashamed to reply, “I will not give them to you,” and said in his mind, “Indeed these two Shaykhs have done me great kindness and were the means of my winning to the Islands of Wak, and but for them I had never made the place, nor delivered my children, nor had I gotten me this rod and cap.” So he raised his head and answered, “Yes, I will give them to you: but, O my lords, I fear lest the Supreme King, my wife’s father, come upon me with his commando and combat with me in my own country, and I be unable to repel them, for want of the rod and the cap.” Replied Abd al-Kaddus, “Fear not, O my son; we will continually succour thee and keep watch and ward for thee in this place; and whosoever shall come against thee from thy wife’s father or any other, him we will fend off from thee; wherefore be thou of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool of tear, and hearten thy heart and broaden thy breast and feel naught whatsoever of fear, for no harm shall come to thee.” When Hasan heard this he was abashed and gave the cap to Abu al-Ruwaysh, saying to Abd al-Kaddus, “Accompany me to my own country and I will give thee the rod.” At this the two elders rejoiced with exceeding joy and made him ready riches and treasures which beggar all description. He abode with them three days, at the end of which he set out again and the Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus made ready to depart with him. So he and his wife mounted their beasts and Abd al-Kaddus whistled, when, behold, a mighty big elephant trotted up with fore hand and feet on amble from the heart of the desert and he took it and mounted it. Then they farewelled Abu al-Ruwaysh who disappeared within his cavern; and they fared on across country, traversing the land in its length and breadth wherever Abd al-Kaddus guided them by a short cut and an easy way, till they drew near the land of the Princesses; whereupon Hasan rejoiced at finding himself once more near his mother, and praised Allah for his safe return and reunion with his wife and children after so many hardships and perils; and thanked Him for His favours and bounties, reciting these couplets,
“Haply shall Allah deign us twain unite
And lockt in strict embrace we’ll hail the light:
And wonders that befel me I’ll recount,
And all I suffered from the Severance-blight:
And fain I’ll cure mine eyes by viewing you
For ever yearned my heart to see your sight:
I hid a tale for you my heart within
Which when we meet o’ morn I’ll fain recite:
I’ll blame you for the deeds by you were done
But while blame endeth love shall stay in site.”
Hardly had he made an end of these verses, when he looked and behold, there rose to view the Green Dome1 and the jetting Fount and the Emerald Palace, and the Mountain of Clouds showed to them from afar; whereupon quoth Abd al-Kaddus, “Rejoice, O Hasan, in good tidings: to-night shalt thou be the guest of my nieces!” At this he joyed with exceeding joy and as also did his wife, and they alighted at the domed pavilion, where they took their rest2 and ate and drank; after which they mounted horse again and rode on till they came upon the palace. As they drew near, the Princesses who were daughters of the King, brother to Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus, came forth to meet them and saluted them and their uncle who said to them, “O daughters of my brother, behold, I have accomplished the need of this your brother Hasan and have helped him to regain his wife and children.” So they embraced him and gave him joy of his return in safety and health and of his reunion with his wife and children, and it was a day of festival3 with them. Then came forward Hasan’s sister, the youngest Princess, and embraced him, weeping with sore weeping, whilst he also wept for his long desolation: after which she complained to him of that which she had suffered for the pangs of separation and weariness of spirit in his absence and recited these two couplets,
“After thy faring never chanced I’spy
A shape, but did thy form therein descry:
Nor closed mine eyes in sleep but thee I saw,
E’en as though dwelling ‘twixt the lid and eye.”
When she had made an end of her verses, she rejoiced with joy exceeding and Hasan said to her, “O my sister, I thank none in this matter save thyself over all thy sisters, and may Allah Almighty vouchsafe thee aidance and countenance!” Then he related to her all that had past in his journey, from first to last, and all that he had undergone, telling her what had betided him with his wife’s sister and how he had delivered his wife and wees and he also described to her all that he had seen of marvels and grievous perils, even to how Queen Nur al-Huda would have slain him and his spouse and children and none saved them from her but the Lord the Most High. Moreover, he related to her the adventure of the cap and the rod and how Abd al-Kaddus and Abu al-Ruwaysh had asked for them and he had not agreed to give them to the twain save for her sake; wherefore she thanked him and blessed him wishing him long life; and he cried, “By Allah, I shall never forget all the kindness thou hast done me from incept to conclusion.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Neither dome nor fount etc. are mentioned before, the normal inadvertency.
2 In Eastern travel the rest comes before the eating and drinking.
3 Arab. “‘Id” (pron.‘Eed) which I have said (vol. i. 42, 317) is applied to the two great annual festivals, the “Fête of Sacrifice,” and the “Break–Fast.” The word denotes restoration to favour and Moslems explain as the day on which Adam (and Eve) who had been expelled from Paradise for disobedience was re-established (Uída) by the relenting of Allah. But the name doubtless dates amongst Arabs from days long before they had heard of the “Lord Nomenclator.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Hasan foregathered with the Princesses, he related to his sister all that he had endured and said to her, “Never will I forget what thou hast done for me from incept to conclusion.” Then she turned to his wife Manar al-Sana and embraced her and pressed her children to her breast, saying to her, “O daughter of the Supreme King, was there no pity in thy bosom, that thou partedst him and his children and settedst his heart on fire for them? Say me, didst thou desire by this deed that he should die?” The Princess laughed and answered, “Thus was it ordained of Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and whoso beguileth folk, him shall Allah begule.”1 Then they set on somewhat of meat and drink, and they all ate and drank and made merry. They abode thus ten days in feast and festival, mirth and merry-making, at the end of which time Hasan prepared to continue his journey. So his sister rose and made him ready riches and rarities, such as defy description. Then she strained him to her bosom, because of leavetaking, and threw her arms round his neck whilst he recited on her account these couplets,
“The solace of lovers is naught but far,
And parting is naught save grief singular:
And ill-will and absence are naught but woe,
And the victims of Love naught but martyrs are;
And how tedious is night to the loving wight
From his true love parted ‘neath evening star!
His tears course over his cheeks and so
He cries, ‘O tears be there more to flow?’”
With this Hasan gave the rod to Shaykh Abd al-Kaddus, who joyed therein with exceeding joy and thanking him and securing it mounted and returned to his own place. Then Hasan took horse with his wife and children and departed from the Palace of the Princesses, who went forth2 with him, to farewell him. Then they turned back and Hasan fared on, over wild and wold, two months and ten days, till he came to the city of Baghdad, the House of Peace, and repairing to his home by the private postern which gave upon the open country, knocked at the door. Now his mother, for long absence, had forsworn sleep and given herself to mourning and weeping and wailing, till she fell sick and ate no meat, neither took delight in slumber but shed tears night and day. She ceased not to call upon her son’s name albeit she despaired of his returning to her; and as he stood at the door, he heard her weeping and reciting these couplets,
“By Allah, heal, O my lords, the unwhole
Of wasted frame and heart worn with dole:
An you grant her a meeting ’tis but your grace
Shall whelm in the boons of the friend her soul:
I despair not of Union the Lord can grant
And to weal of meeting our woes control!”
When she had ended her verses, she heard her son’s voice at the door, calling out, “O mother, mother ah! fortune hath been kind and hath vouchsafed our reunion!” Hearing his cry she knew his voice and went to the door, between belief and misbelief; but, when she opened it she saw him standing there and with him his wife and children; so she shrieked aloud, for excess of joy, and fell to the earth in a fainting-fit. Hasan ceased not soothing her, till she recovered and embraced him; then she wept with joy, and presently she called his slaves and servants and bade them carry all his baggage into the house.3 So they brought in every one of the loads, and his wife and children entered also, whereupon Hasan’s mother went up to the Princess and kissed her head and bussed her feet, saying, “O daughter of the Supreme King, if I have failed of thy due, behold, I crave pardon of Almighty Allah.” Then she turned to Hasan and said to him, “O my son, what was the cause of this long strangerhood?” He related to her all his adventures from beginning to end; and when she heard tell of all that had befallen him, she cried a great cry and fell down a-fainting at the very mention of his mishaps. He solaced her, till she came to herself and said, “By Allah, O my son, thou hast done unwisely in parting with the rod and the cap for, hadst thou kept them with the care due to them, thou wert master of the whole earth, in its breadth and length; but praised be Allah, for thy safety, O my son, and that of thy wife and children!” They passed the night in all pleasance and happiness, and on the morrow Hasan changed his clothes and donning a suit of the richest apparel, went down into the bazar and bought black slaves and slave-girls and the richest stuffs and ornaments and furniture such as carpets and costly vessels and all manner other precious things, whose like is not found with Kings. Moreover, he purchased houses and gardens and estates and so forth and abode with his wife and his children and his mother, eating and drinking and pleasuring: nor did they cease from all joy of life and its solace till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies. And Glory be to Him who hath dominion over the Seen and the Unseen,4 who is the Living, the Eternal, Who dieth not at all! And men also recount the adventures of
1 Alluding to Hasan seizing her feather dress and so taking her to wife.
2 Arab. “Kharajú”=they (masc.) went forth, a vulgarism for “Kharajna” (fem.)
3 Note the notable housewife who, at a moment when youth would forget everything, looks to the main chance.
4 Arab. “Al–Malakút” (not “Malkút” as in Freytag) a Sufi term for the world of Spirits (De Lacy Christ, Ar. i. 451). Amongst Eastern Christians it is vulgarly used in the fem. and means the Kingdom of Heaven, also the preaching of the Gospel.
There was once in tides of yore and in ages and times long gone before, in the city of Baghdad, a fisherman, Khalífah hight, a pauper wight, who had never once been married in all his days. 1 It chanced one morning, that he took his net and went with it to the river, as was his wont, with the view of fishing before the others came. When he reached the bank, he girt himself and tucked up his skirts; then stepping into the water, he spread his net and cast it a first cast and a second but it brought up naught. He ceased not to throw it, till he had made ten casts, and still naught came up therein; wherefore his breast was straitened and his mind perplexed concerning his case and he said, “I crave pardon of God the Great, there is no god but He, the Living, the Eternal, and unto Him I repent. There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Whatso He willeth is and whatso He nilleth is not! Upon Allah (to whom belong Honour and Glory!) dependeth daily bread! Whenas He giveth to His servant, none denieth him; and whenas He denieth a servant, none giveth to him.” And of the excess of his distress, he recited these two couplets,
“An Fate afflict thee, with grief manifest,
Prepare thy patience and make broad thy breast;
For of His grace the Lord of all the worlds
Shall send to wait upon unrest sweet Rest.”
Then he sat awhile pondering his case, and with his head bowed down recited also these couplets,
“Patience with sweet and with bitter Fate!
And weet that His will He shall consummate:
Night oft upon woe as on abscess acts
And brings it up to the bursting state:
And Chance and Change shall pass o’er the youth
And fleet from his thoughts and no more shall bait.”
Then he said in his mind, “I will make this one more cast, trusting in Allah, so haply He may not disappoint my hope;” and he rose and casting into the river the net as far as his arm availed, gathered the cords in his hands and waited a full hour, after which he pulled at it and, finding it heavy — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 This is so rare, even amongst the poorest classes in the East, that it is mentioned with some emphasis.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Khalifah the Fisherman had cast his net sundry times into the stream, yet had it brought up naught, he pondered his case and improvised the verses afore quoted. Then he said in his mind, “I will make this one more cast, trusting in Allah who haply will not disappoint my hope.” So he rose and threw the net and waited a full hour, after which time he pulled at it and, finding it heavy, handled it gently and drew it in, little by little, till he got it ashore, when lo and behold! he saw in it a one-eyed, lame-legged ape. Seeing this quoth Khalifah, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! verily, we are Allah’s and to Him we are returning! What meaneth this heart- breaking, miserable ill-luck and hapless fortune? What is come to me this blessed day? But all this is of the destinies of Almighty Allah!” Then he took the ape and tied him with a cord to a tree which grew on the river-bank, and grasping a whip he had with him, raised his arm in the air, thinking to bring down the scourge upon the quarry, when Allah made the ape speak with a fluent tongue, saying, “O Khalifah, hold thy hand and beat me not, but leave me bounden to this tree and go down to the river and cast thy net, confiding in Allah; for He will give thee thy daily bread.” Hearing this Khalifah went down to the river and casting his net, let the cords run out. Then he pulled it in and found it heavier than before; so he ceased not to tug at it, till he brought it to land, when, behold, there was another ape in it, with front teeth wide apart, 1 Kohl-darkened eyes and hands stained with Henna-dyes; and he was laughing and wore a tattered waistcloth about his middle. Quoth Khalifah, “Praised be Allah who hath changed the fish of the river into apes!” 2 then, going up to the first ape, who was still tied to the tree, he said to him, “See, O unlucky, how fulsome was the counsel thou gavest me! None but thou made me light on this second ape: and for that thou gavest me good-morrow with thy one eye and thy lameness, 3 I am become distressed and weary, without dirham or dinar.” So saying, he hent in hand a stick 4 and flourishing it thrice in the air, was about to come down with it upon the lame ape, when the creature cried out for mercy and said to him, “I conjure thee, by Allah, spare me for the sake of this my fellow and seek of him thy need; for he will guide thee to thy desire!” So he held his hand from him and throwing down the stick, went up to and stood by the second ape, who said to him, “O Khalifah, this my speech 5 will profit thee naught, except thou hearken to what I say to thee; but, an thou do my bidding and cross me not, I will be the cause of thine enrichment.” Asked Khalifah, “And what hast thou to say to me that I may obey there therein?” The Ape answered, “Leave me bound on the bank and hie thee down to the river; then cast thy net a third time, and after I will tell thee what to do.” So he took his net and going down to the river, cast it once more and waited awhile. Then he drew it in and finding it heavy, laboured at it and ceased not his travail till he got it ashore, when he found in it yet another ape; but this one was red, with a blue waistcloth about his middle; his hands and feet were stained with Henna and his eyes blackened with Kohl. When Khalifah saw this, he exclaimed, “Glory to God the Great! Extolled be the perfection of the Lord of Dominion! Verily, this is a blessed day from first to last: its ascendant was fortunate in the countenance of the first ape, and the scroll 6 is known by its superscription! Verily, to-day is a day of apes: there is not a single fish left in the river, and we are come out to-day but to catch monkeys!” Then he turned to the third ape and said, “And what thing art thou also, O unlucky?” Quoth the ape, “Dost thou not know me, O Khalifah!”; and quoth he, “Not I!” The ape cried, “I am the ape of Abu al-Sa’ádát 7 the Jew, the shroff.” Asked Khalifah, “And what dost thou for him?”; and the ape answered, “I give him good-morrow at the first of the day, and he gaineth five ducats; and again at the end of the day, I give him good-even and he gaineth other five ducats.” Whereupon Khalifah turned to the first ape and said to him, “See, O unlucky, what fine apes other folks have! As for thee, thou givest me good-morrow with thy one eye and thy lameness and thy ill-omened phiz and I become poor and bankrupt and hungry!” So saying, he took the cattle-stick and flourishing it thrice in the air, was about to come down with it on the first ape, when Abu al-Sa’adat’s ape said to him, “Let him be, O Khalifah, hold thy hand and come hither to me, that I may tell thee what to do.” So Khalifah threw down the stick and walking up to him cried, “And what hast thou to say to me, O monarch of all monkeys?” Replied the ape, “Leave me and the other two apes here, and take thy net and cast it into the river; and whatever cometh up, bring it to me, and I will tell thee what shall gladden thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A beauty among the Egyptians, not the Arabs.
2 True Fellah —“chaff.”
3 Alluding to the well-known superstition, which has often appeared in The Nights, that the first object seen in the morning, such as a crow, a cripple, or a cyclops determines the fortunes of the day. Notices in Eastern literature are as old as the days of the Hitopadesa; and there is a something instinctive in the idea to a race of early risers. At an hour when the senses are most impressionable the aspect of unpleasant spectacles ahs double effect.
4 Arab. “Masúkah,” the stick used for driving cattle, bâton gourdin (Dozy). Lane applies the word to a wooden plank used for levelling the ground.
5 i.e. the words I am about to speak to thee.
6 Arab. “Sahifah,” which may mean “page” (Lane) or “book” (Payne).
7 Pronounce, “Abussa’ádát” = Father of Prosperities: Lane imagines that it came from the Jew’s daughter being called “Sa’adat.” But the latter is the Jew’s wife (Night dcccxxxiii) and the word in the text is plural.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the ape of Abu al-Sa’adat said to Khalifah, “Take thy net and cast it into the river; and whatever cometh up, bring it to me, and I will tell thee what shall gladden thee.” He replied, “I hear and obey,” and took the net and gathered it on his shoulder, reciting these couplets,
“When straitened is my breast I will of my Creator pray,
Who may and can the heaviest weight lighten in easiest way;
For ere man’s glance can turn or close his eye by God His grace
Waxeth the broken whole and yieldeth jail its prison-prey.
Therefore with Allah one and all of thy concerns commit
Whose grace and favour men of wit shall nevermore gainsay.”
And also these twain,
“Thou art the cause that castest men in ban and bane;
Sorrow e’en so and sorrow’s cause Thou canst assain:
Make me not covet aught that lies beyond my reach;
How many a greedy wight his wish hath failed to gain!”
Now when Khalifah had made an end of his verse, he went down to the river and casting his net, waited awhile; after which he drew it up and found therein a fine young fish, 1 with a big head, a tail like a ladle and eyes like two gold pieces. When Khalifah saw this fish, he rejoiced, for he had never in his life caught its like, so he took it, marvelling, and carried it to the ape of Abu al-Sa’adat the Jew, as ‘twere he had gotten possession of the universal world. Quoth the ape, “O Khalifah, what wilt thou do with his and with thine ape?”; and quoth the Fisherman, “I will tell thee, O monarch of monkeys all I am about to do. Know then that first, I will cast about to make away with yonder accursed, my ape, and take thee in his stead and give thee every day to eat of whatso thou wilt.” Rejoined the ape, “Since thou hast made choice of me, I will tell thee how thou shalt do wherein, if it please Allah Almighty, shall be the mending of thy fortune. Lend thy mind, then, to what I say to thee and ‘tis this!: Take another cord and tie me also to a tree, where leave me and go to the midst of The Dyke 2 and cast thy net into the Tigris. 3 Then after waiting awhile, draw it up and thou shalt find therein a fish, than which thou never sawest a finer in thy whole life. Bring it to me and I will tell thee how thou shalt do after this.” So Khalifah rose forthright and casting his net into the Tigris, drew up a great cat-fish 4 the bigness of a lamb; never had he set eyes on its like, for it was larger than the first fish. He carried it to the ape, who said to him, “Gather thee some green grass and set half of it in a basket; lay the fish therein and cover it with the other moiety. Then, leaving us here tied, shoulder the basket and betake thee to Baghdad. If any bespeak thee or question thee by the way, answer him not, but fare on till thou comest to the market-street of the money-changers, at the upper end of whereof thou wilt find the shop of Master 5 Abu al- Sa’adat the Jew, Shaykh of the shroffs, and wilt see him sitting on a mattress, with a cushion behind him and two coffers, one for gold and one for silver, before him, while around him stand his Mamelukes and negro-slaves and servant-lads. Go up to him and set the basket before him, saying ‘O Abu al-Sa’adat, verily I went out to-day to fish and cast my net in thy name and Allah Almighty sent me this fish.’ He will ask, ‘Hast thou shown it to any but me?;’ and do thou answer, “No, by Allah!’ then will he take it of thee and give thee a dinar. Give it back to him and he will give thee two dinars; but do thou return them also and so do with everything he may offer thee; and take naught from him, though he give thee the fish’s weight in gold. Then will he say to thee, ‘Tell me what thou wouldst have,’ and do thou reply, “By Allah, I will not sell the fish save for two words!’ He will ask, ‘What are they?’ and do thou answer, ‘Stand up and say, ‘Bear witness, O ye who are present in the market, that I give Khalifah the fisherman my ape in exchange for his ape, and that I barter for his lot my lot and luck for his luck.’ This is the price of the fish, and I have no need of gold.’ If he do this, I will every day give thee good-morrow and good-even, and every day thou shalt gain ten dinars of good gold; whilst this one-eyed, lame-legged ape shall daily give the Jew good-morrow, and Allah shall afflict him every day with an avanie 6 which he must needs pay, nor will he cease to be thus afflicted till he is reduced to beggary and hath naught. Hearken then to my words; so shalt thou prosper and be guided aright.” Quoth Khalifah, “I accept thy counsel, O monarch of all the monkeys! But, as for this unlucky, may Allah never bless him! I know not what to do with him.” Quoth the ape, “Let him go 7 into the water, and let me go also.” “I hear and obey,” answered Khalifah and unbound the three apes, and they went down into the river. Then he took up the cat-fish 8 which he washed then laid it in the basket upon some green grass, and covered it with other; and lastly shouldering his load, set out chanting the following Mawwál, 9
“Thy case commit to a Heavenly Lord and thou shalt safety see;
Act kindly through thy worldly life and live repentance-free.
Mate not with folk suspected, lest eke thou shouldst suspected be
And from reviling keep thy tongue lest men revile at thee!”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Furkh samak” lit. a fish-chick, an Egyptian vulgarism.
2 Arab. “Al–Rasif”; usually a river-quay, levée, an embankment. Here it refers to the great dyke which distributed the Tigris-water.
3 Arab. “Dajlah,” see vol. i, p 180. It is evidently the origin of the biblical “Hiddekel” “Hid” = fierceness, swiftness.
4 Arab. “Bayáz” a kind of Silurus (S. Bajad, Forsk.) which Sonnini calls Bayatto, Saksatt and Hébedé; also Bogar (Bakar, an ox). The skin is lubricous, the flesh is soft and insipid and the fish often grows to the size of a man. Captain Speke and I found huge specimens in the Tangany ika Lake.
5 Arab. “Mu’allim,” vulg. “M’allim,” prop.= teacher, master esp. of a trade, a craft. In Egypt and Syria it is a civil address to a Jew or a Christian, as Hájj is to a Moslem.
6 Arab. “Gharámah,” an exaction, usually on the part of government like a corvée etc. The Europeo–Egyptian term is Avania (Ital.) or Avanie (French).
7 Arab. “Sayyib-hu” an Egyptian vulgarism found also in Syria. Hence Sáibah, a woman who lets herself go (a-whoring) etc. It is syn. with “Dashar,” which Dozy believes to be a softening of Jashar; and Jashsh became Dashsh.
8 The Silurus is generally so called in English on account of its feeler-acting mustachios.
9 See Night dcccvii, vol. viii. p. 94.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Khalifah the fisherman, after ending his song, set out with the basket upon his shoulder and ceased not faring till he entered the city of Baghdad. And as he threaded the streets the folk knew him and cried out to him, saying, “What hast thou there, O Khalifah?” but he paid no heed to them and passed on till he came to the market-street of the money-changers and fared between the shops, as the ape had charged him, till he found the Jew seated at the upper end, with his servants in attendance upon him, as he were a King of the Kings of Khorason. He knew him at first sight; so he went up to him and stood before him, whereupon Abu al-Sa’adat raised his eyes and recognising him, said, “Welcome, O Khalifah! What wantest thou and what is thy need? If any have missaid thee or spited thee, tell me and I will go with thee to the Chief of Police, who shall do thee justice on him.” Replied Khalifah, “Nay, as thy head liveth, O chief of the Jews, none hath missaid me. But I went forth this morning to the river and, casting my net into the Tigris on thy luck, brought up this fish.” Therewith he opened the basket and threw the fish before the Jew who admired it and said, “By the Pentateuch and the Ten Commandments, 1 I dreamt last night that the Virgin came to me and said, ‘Know, O Abu al-Sa’adat, that I have sent thee a pretty present!’ and doubtless ‘tis this fish.” Then he turned to Khalifah and said to him, “By thy faith, hath any seen it but I?” Khalifah replied, “No by Allah and by Abu Bakr the Viridical, 2 none hath seen it save thou, O chief of the Jews!” Whereupon the Jew turned to one of his lads and said to him, “Come, carry this fish to my house and bid Sa’ádah 3 dress it and fry and broil it, against I make an end of my business and hie me home.” And Khalifah said, “Go, O my lad; let the master’s wife fry some of it and broil the rest.” Answered the boy, “I hear and I obey, O my lord” and, taking the fish, went away with it to the house. Then the Jew put out his hand and gave Khalifah the fisherman a dinar, saying, “Take this for thyself, O Khalifah, and spend it on thy family.” When Khalifah saw the dinar on his palm, he took it, saying, “Laud to the Lord of Dominion!” as if he had never seen aught of gold in his life; and went somewhat away; but, before he had gone far, he was minded of the ape’s charge and turning back threw down the ducat, saying, “Take thy gold and give folk back their fish! Dost thou make a laughing stock of folk? The Jew hearing this thought he was jesting and offered him two dinars upon the other, but Khalifah said, “Give me the fish and no nonsense. How knewest thou I would sell it at this price?” Whereupon the Jew gave him two more dinars and said, “Take these five ducats for thy fish and leave greed.” So Khalifah hent the five dinars in hand and went away, rejoicing, and gazing and marvelling at the gold and saying, “Glory be to God! There is not with the Caliph of Baghdad what is with me this day!” Then he ceased not faring on till he came to the end of the market-street, when he remembered the words of the ape and his charge, and returning to the Jew, threw him back the gold. Quoth he, “What aileth thee, O Khalifah? Dost thou want silver in exchange for gold?” Khalifah replied, “I want nor dirhams nor dinars. I only want thee to give me back folk’s fish.” With this the Jew waxed wroth and shouted out at him, saying, “O fisherman, thou bringest me a fish not worth a sequin and I give thee five for it; yet art thou not content! Art thou Jinn-mad? Tell me for how much thou wilt sell it.” Answered Khalifah, “I will not sell it for silver nor for gold, only for two sayings 4 thou shalt say me.” When the Jew heard speak of the “Two Sayings,” his eyes sank into his head, he breathed hard and ground his teeth for rage and said to him, “O nail-paring of the Moslems, wilt thou have me throw off my faith for the sake of thy fish, and wilt thou debauch me from my religion and stultify my belief and my conviction which I inherited of old from my forbears?” Then he cried out to the servants who were in waiting and said, “Out on you! Bash me this unlucky rogue’s neck and bastinado him soundly!” So they came down upon him with blows and ceased not beating him till he fell beneath the shop, and the Jew said to them, “Leave him and let him rise.” Whereupon Khalifah jumped up, as if naught ailed him, and the Jew said to him, “Tell me what price thou asketh for this fish and I will give it thee: for thou hast gotten but scant good of us this day.” Answered the Fisherman, “Have no fear for me, O master, because of the beating; for I can eat ten donkeys’ rations of stick.” The Jew laughed at his words and said, “Allah upon thee, tell me what thou wilt have and by the right of my Faith, I will give it thee!” The Fisherman replied, “Naught from thee will remunerate me for this fish save the two words whereof I spake.” And the Jew said, “Meseemeth thou wouldst have me become a Moslem?” 5 Khalifah rejoined, “By Allah, O Jew, an thou islamise ‘twill nor advantage the Moslems nor damage the Jews; and in like manner, an thou hold to thy misbelief ‘twill nor damage the Moslems nor advantage the Jews. But what I desire of thee is that thou rise to thy feet and say, ‘Bear witness against me, O people of the market, that I barter my ape for the ape of Khalifah the Fisherman and my lot in the world for his lot and my luck for his luck.’” Quoth the Jew, “If this be all thou desirest ‘twill sit lightly upon me.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This extraordinary confusion of two distinct religious mythologies cannot be the result of ignorance. Educated Moslems know at least as much as Christians do, on these subjects, but the Rawi or story-teller speaks to the “Gallery.” In fact it becomes a mere ‘chaff’ and The Nights give some neat specimens of our modern linguistic.
2 See vol. ii. 197. “Al–Siddíkah” (fem.) is a title of Ayishah, who, however, does not appear to have deserved it.
3 The Jew’s wife.
4 Here is a double entendre. The fisherman meant a word or two. The Jew understood the Shibboleth of the Moslem Creed, popularly known as the “Two Words,”— I testify that there is no Ilah (god) but Allah (the God) and I testify that Mohammed is the Messenger of Allah. Pronouncing this formula would make the Jew a Moslem. Some writers are surprised to see a Jew ordering a Moslem to be flogged; but the former was rich and the latter was poor. Even during the worst days of Jewish persecutions their money-bags were heavy enough to lighten the greater part, if not the whole of their disabilities. And the Moslem saying is, “The Jew is never your (Moslem or Christian) equal: he must be either above you or below you.” This is high, because unintentional praise of the (self-) Chosen People.
5 He understands the “two words” (Kalmatáni) the Moslem’s double profession of belief; and Khalifah’s reply embodies the popular idea that the number of Moslems (who will be saved) is preordained and that no art of man can add to it or take from it.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Jew said to Khalifah the Fisherman, “If this be all thou desirest, ‘twill sit lightly upon me.” So he rose without stay or delay and standing on his feet, repeated the required words; after which he turned to the Fisherman and asked him, “Hast thou aught else to ask of me?” “No,” answered he, and the Jew said, “Go in peace!” Hearing this Khalifah sprung to his feet forthright; took up his basket and net and returned straight to the Tigris, where he threw his net and pulled it in. He found it heavy and brought it not ashore but with travail, when he found it full of fish of all kinds. Presently, up came a woman with a dish, who gave me a dinar, and he gave her fish for it; and after her an eunuch, who also bought a dinar’s worth of fish, and so forth till he had sold ten dinars’ worth. And he continued to sell ten dinars’ worth of fish daily for ten days, till he had gotten an hundred dinars. Now Khalifah the Fisherman had quarters in the Passage of the Merchants, 1 and, as he lay one night in his lodging much bemused with Hashish, he said to himself, “O Khalifah, the folk all know thee for a poor fisherman, and now thou hast gotten an hundred golden dinars. Needs must the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, hear of this from some one, and haply he will be wanting money and will send for thee and say to thee, ‘I need a sum of money and it hath reached me that thou hast an hundred dinars: so do thou lend them to me those same.’ I shall answer, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I am a poor man, and whoso told thee that I had an hundred dinars lied against me; for I have naught of this.’ Thereupon he will commit me to the Chief of Police, saying, “Strip him of his clothes and torment him with the bastinado till he confess and give up the hundred dinars in his possession. Wherefore, meseemeth to provide against this predicament, the best thing I can do, is to rise forthright and bash myself with the whip, so to use myself to beating.” And his Hashish 2 said to him, “Rise, doff thy dress.” So he stood up and putting off his clothes, took a whip he had by him and set handy a leathern pillow; then he fell to lashing himself, laying every other blow upon the pillow and roaring out the while, “Alas! Alas! By Allah, ‘tis a false saying, O my lord, and they have lied against me; for I am a poor fisherman and have naught of the goods of the world!” The noise of the whip falling on the pillow and on his person resounded in the still of night and the folk heard it, and amongst others the merchants, and they said, “Whatever can ail the poor fellow, that he crieth and we hear the noise of blows falling on him?” ‘Twould seem robbers have broken in upon him and are tormenting him.” Presently they all came forth of their lodgings, at the noise of the blows and the crying, and repaired to Khalifah’s room, but they found the door locked and said one to other, “Belike the robbers have come in upon him from the back of the adjoining saloon. It behoveth us to climb over by the roofs.” So they clomb over the roofs and coming down through the sky-light, 3 saw him naked and flogging himself and asked him, “What aileth thee, O Khalifah?” He answered, “Know, O folk, that I have gained some dinars and fear lest my case be carried up to the Prince of True Believers, Harun al-Rashid, and he send for me and demand of me those same gold pieces; where upon I should deny, and I fear that, if I deny, he will torture me, so I am torturing myself, by way of accustoming me to what may come.” The merchants laughed at him and said, “Leave this fooling, may Allah not bless thee and the dinars thou hast gotten! Verily thou hast disturbed us this night and hast troubled our hearts.” So Khalifah left flogging himself and slept till the morning, when he rose and would have gone about his business, but bethought him of his hundred dinars and said in his mind, “An I leave them at home, thieves will steal them, and if I put them in a belt 4 about my waist, peradventure some one will see me and lay in wait for me till he come upon me in some lonely place and slay me and take the money: but I have a device that should serve me well, right well.” So he jumped up forthright and made him a pocket in the collar of his gaberdine and tying the hundred dinars up in a purse, laid them in the collar-pocket. Then he took his net and basket and staff and went down to the Tigris, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Mamarr al-Tujjár” (passing-place of the traders) which Lane renders “A chamber within the place through which the traders passed.” At the end of the tale (Night dccxlv.) we find him living in a Khan and the Bresl. Edit. (see my terminal note) makes him dwell in a magazine (i.e. ground-floor store-room) of a ruined Khan.
2 The text is somewhat too concise and the meaning is that the fumes of the Hashish he had eaten (“his mind under the influence of hasheesh,” says Lane) suggested to him, etc.
3 Arab. “Mamrak” either a simple aperture in ceiling or roof for light and air or a more complicated affair of lattice-work and plaster; it is often octagonal and crowned with a little dome. Lane calls it “Memrak,” after the debased Cairene pronunciation, and shows its base in his sketch of a Ka’áh (M.E., Introduction).
4 Arab. “Kamar.” This is a practice especially amongst pilgrims. In Hindostan the girdle, usually a waist-shawl, is called Kammar-band our old “Cummerbund.” Easterns are too sensible not to protect the pit of the stomach, that great ganglionic centre, against sun, rain and wind, and now our soldiers in India wear flannel-belts on the march.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Khalifah the Fisherman, having set his hundred dinars in the collar-pocket took basket, staff and net and went down to the Tigris, where he made a cast but brought up naught. So he removed from that place to another and threw again, but once more the net came up empty; and he went on removing from place to place till he had gone half a day’s journey from the city, ever casting the net which kept bringing up naught. So he said to himself, “By Allah, I will throw my net a-stream but his once more, whether ill come of it or weal!” 1 Then he hurled the net with all his force, of the excess and his wrath and the purse with the hundred dinars flew out of his collar-pocket and, lighting in mid-stream, was carried away by the strong current; whereupon he threw down the net and plunged into the water after the purse. He dived for it nigh a hundred times, till his strength was exhausted and he came up for sheer fatigue without chancing on it. When he despaired of finding the purse, he returned to the shore, where he was nothing but staff, net and basket and sought for his clothes, but could light on no trace of them: so he said in himself, “O vilest of those wherefor was made the byword, ‘The pilgrimage is not perfected save by copulation with the camel!” 2 Then he wrapped the net about him and taking staff in one hand and basket in other, went trotting about like a camel in rut, running right and left and backwards and forwards, dishevelled and dusty, as he were a rebel Marid let loose from Solomon’s prison. 3 So far for what concerns the Fisherman Khalifah; but as regards the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, he had a friend, a jeweller called Ibn al-Kirnás, 4 and all the traders, brokers and middle-men knew him for the Caliph’s merchant; wherefore there was naught sold in Baghdad, by way of rarities and things of price or Mamelukes or handmaidens, but was first shown to him. As he sat one day in his shop, behold, there came up to him the Shaykh of the brokers, with a slave-girl, whose like seers never saw, for she was of passing beauty and loveliness, symmetry and perfect grace, and among her gifts was that she knew all arts and sciences and could make verses and play upon all manner musical instruments. So Ibn al-Kirnas bought her for five thousand golden dinars and clothed her with other thousand; after which he carried her to the Prince of True Believers, with whom she lay the night and who made trial of her in every kind of knowledge and accomplishment and found her versed in all sorts of arts and sciences, having no equal in her time. Her name was Kút al-Kulúb 5 and she was even as saith the poet,
“I fix my glance on her, whene’er she wends;
And non-acceptance of my glance breeds pain:
She favours graceful-necked gazelle at gaze;
And ‘Graceful as gazelle’ to say we’re fain.”
And where is this 6 beside the saying of another?
“Give me brunettes; the Syrian spears, so limber and so straight,
Tell of the slender dusky maids, so lithe and proud of gait.
Languid of eyelids, with a down like silk upon her cheek,
Within her wasting lover’s heart she queens it still in state.”
On the morrow the Caliph sent for Ibn al-Kirnas the Jeweller, and bade him receive ten thousand dinars as to her price. And his heart was taken up with the slave-girl Kut al-Kulub and he forsook the Lady Zubaydah bint al-Kasim, for all she was the daughter of his father’s brother 7 and he abandoned all his favorite concubines and abode a whole month without stirring from Kut al-Kulub’s side save to go to the Friday prayers and return to her in all haste. This was grievous to the Lords of the Realm and they complained thereof to the Wazir Ja’afar the Barmecide, who bore with the Commander of the Faithful and waited till the next Friday, when he entered the cathedral-mosque and, foregathering with the Caliph, related to him all that occurred to him of extra-ordinary stories anent seld-seen love and lovers, with intent to draw out what was in his mind. Quoth the Caliph, “By Allah, O Ja’afar, this is not of my choice; but my heart is caught in the snare of love and wot I not what is to be done!” The Wazir Ja’afar replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, thou knowest how this girl Kut al-Kulub is become at thy disposal and of the number of thy servants, and that which hand possesseth soul coveteth not. Moreover, I will tell thee another thing which is that the highest boast of Kings and Princes is in hunting and the pursuit of sport and victory; and if thou apply thyself to this, perchance it will divert thee from her, and it may be thou wilt forget her.” Rejoined the Caliph, “Thou sayest well, O Ja’afar; come let us go a-hunting forthright, without stay or delay.” So soon as Friday prayers were prayed, they left the mosque and at once mounting their she-mules rode forth to the chase. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Fa-immá ‘alayhá wa-immá bihá,” i.e. whether (luck go) against it or (luck go) with it.
2 “O vilest of sinners!” alludes to the thief. “A general plunge into worldly pursuits and pleasures announced the end of the pilgrimage-ceremonies. All the devotees were now “whitewashed”— the book of their sins was a tabula rasa: too many of them lost no time in making a new departure down South and in opening a fresh account” (Pilgrimage iii. 365). I have noticed that my servant at Jeddah would carry a bottle of Raki, uncovered by a napkin, through the main streets.
3 The copper cucurbites in which Solomon imprisoned the rebellious Jinns, often alluded to in The Nights.
4 i.e. Son of the Chase: it is prob. a corruption of the Persian Kurnas, a pimp, a cuckold, and introduced by way of chaff, intelligible only to a select few “fast” men.
5 For the name see vol. ii.61, in the Tale of Ghánim bin ‘Ayyúb where the Caliph’s concubine is also drugged by the Lady Aubaydah.
6 We should say, “What is this?” etc. The lines have occurred before so I quote Mr. Payne.
7 Zubaydah, I have said, was the daughter of Ja’afar, son of the Caliph al-Mansur, second Abbaside. The story-teller persistently calls her daughter of Al-Kásim for some reason of his own; and this he will repeat in Night dcccxxxix.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid and the Wazir Ja’afar would go forth a-hunting and a-chasing, they mounted two she-mules and fared on into the open country, occupied with talk, and their attendants outwent them. Presently the heat became overhot and Al–Rashid said to his Wazir, “O Ja’afar, I am sore athirst.” Then he looked around and espying a figure in the distance on a high mound, asked Ja’afar, “Seest thou what I see?” Answered the Wazir, “Yes, O Commander of the Faithful; I see a dim figure on a high mound; belike he is the keeper of a garden or of a cucumber-plot, and in whatso wise water will not be lacking in his neighborhood;” presently adding, “I will go to him and fetch thee some.” But Al–Rashid said, “My mule is swifter than thy mule; so do thou abide here, on account of the troops, whilst I go myself to him and get of this person 1 drink and return.” So saying, he urged his she-mule, which started off like racing wind or railing-water and, in the twinkling of an eye, made the mound, where he found the figure he had seen to be none other than Khalifah the Fisherman, naked and wrapped in the net; and indeed he was horrible to behold, as to and fro he rolled with eyes for very redness like cresset-gleam and dusty hair in dishevelled trim, as he were an Ifrit or a lion grim. Al–Rashid saluted him and he returned his salutation; but he was wroth and fires might have been lit at his breath. Quoth the Caliph, “O man, hast thou any water?”; and quoth Khalifah, “Ho thou, art thou blind, or Jinn-mad? Get thee to the river Tigris, for ‘tis behind this mound.” So Al–Rashid went around the mound and going down to the river, drank and watered his mule: then without a moment’s delay he returned to Khalifah and said to him, “What aileth thee, O man, to stand here, and what is thy calling?” The Fisherman cried, “This is a stranger and sillier question than that about the water! Seest thou not the gear of my craft on my shoulder?” Said the Caliph, “Belike thou art a fisherman?”; and he replied, “Yes.” Asked Al–Rashid, “Where is thy gaberdine, 2 and where are thy waistcloth and girdle and where be the rest of thy raiment?” Now these were the very things which had been taken from Khalifah, like for like; so, when he heard the Caliph name them, he got into his head that it was he who had stolen his clothes from the river-bank and coming down from the top of the mound, swiftlier than the blinding leven, laid hold of the mule’s bridle, saying, “Harkye, man, bring me back my things and leave jesting and joking.” Al–Rashid replied, “By Allah, I have not seen thy clothes nor know aught of them!” Now the Caliph had large cheeks and a small mouth; 3 so Khalifah said to him, “Belike, thou art by trade a singer or a piper on pipes? But bring me back my clothes fairly and without more ado, or I will bash thee with this my staff till thou bepiss thyself and befoul they clothes.” When Al–Rashid saw the staff in the Fisherman’s hand and that he had the vantage of him, he said to himself, “By Allah, I cannot brook from this mad beggar half a blow of that staff!” Now he had on a satin gown; so he pulled it off and gave it to Khalifah, saying, “O man, take this in place of thy clothes.” The Fisherman took it and turned it about and said, “My clothes are worth ten of this painted ‘Abá-cloak;” and rejoined the Caliph, “Put it on till I bring thee thy gear.” So Khalifah donned the gown, but finding it too long for him, took a knife he had with him, tied to the handle of his basket, 4 and cut off nigh a third of the skirt, so that it fell only beneath his knees. Then he turned to Al–Rashid and said to him, “Allah upon thee, O piper, tell me what wage thou gettest every month from thy master, for thy craft of piping.” Replied the Caliph, “My wage is ten dinars a month,” and Khalifah continued, “By Allah, my poor fellow, thou makest me sorry for thee! Why, I make thy ten dinars every day! hast thou a mind to take service with me and I will teach thee the art of fishing and share my gain with thee? So shalt thou make five dinars a day and be my slavey and I will protect thee against thy master with this staff.” Quoth Al–Rashid, “I will well”; and quoth Khalifah, “Then get off thy she-ass and tie her up, so she may serve us to carry the fish hereafter, and come hither, that I may teach thee to fish forthright.” So Al–Rashid alighted and hobbling his mule, tucked his skirts into his girdle, and Khalifah said to him, “O piper, lay hold of the net thus and put it over thy forearm thus and cast it into the Tigris thus.” Accordingly, the Caliph took heart of grace and, doing as the fisherman showed him, threw the net and pulled at it, but could not draw it up. So Khalifah came to his aid and tugged at it with him; but the two together could not hale it up: where upon said the fisherman, “O piper of ill-omen, for the first time I took thy gown in place of my clothes; but this second time I will have thine ass and will beat thee to boot, till thou bepiss and beskite thyself! An I find my net torn.” Quoth Al–Rashid, “Let the twain of us pull at once.” So they both pulled together and succeeded with difficulty in hauling that net ashore, when they found it full of fish of all kinds and colours; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Shakhs,” a word which has travelled as far as Hindostan.
2 Arab. “Shamlah” described in dictionaries, as a cloak covering the whole body. For Hizám (girdle) the Bresl. Edit. reads “Hirám” vulg. “Ehrám,” the waist-cloth, the Pilgrim’s attire.
3 He is described by Al–Siyúti (p. 309) as “very fair, tall handsome and of captivating appearance.”
4 Arab. “Uzn al-Kuffah” lit. “Ear of the basket,” which vulgar Egyptians pronounce “Wizn,” so “Wajh” (face) becomes “Wishsh” and so forth.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Khalifah the Fisherman and the Caliph hauled that net ashore, they found it full of fish of all kinds; and Khalifah said to Al- Rashid, “By Allah, O piper, thou art foul of favor but, an thou apply thyself to fishing, thou wilt make a mighty fine fisherman. But now ’twere best thou bestraddle thine ass and make for the market and fetch me a pair of frails, 1 and I will look after the fish till thou return, when I and thou will load it on thine ass’s back. I have scales and weights and all we want, so we can take them with us and thou wilt have nothing to do but to hold the scales and pouch the price; for here we have fish worth twenty dinars. So be fast with the frails and loiter not.” Answered the Caliph, “I hear and obey” and mounting, left him with his fish, and spurred his mule, in high good humour, and ceased not laughing over his adventures with the Fisherman, till he came up to Ja’afar, who said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, belike, when thou wentest down to drink, thou found a pleasant flower-garden and enteredst and tookest thy pleasure therein alone?” At this Al–Rashid fell a laughing again and all the Barmecides rose and kissed the ground before him, saying, “O Commander of the Faithful, Allah make joy to endure for thee and do away annoy from thee! What was the cause of thy delaying when thou faredst to drink and what hath befallen thee?” Quoth the Caliph, “Verily, a right wonderous tale and a joyous adventure and a wonderous hath befallen me.” And he repeated to them what had passed between himself and the Fisherman and his words, “Thou stolest my clothes!” and how he had given him his gown and how he had cut off a part of it, finding it too long for him. Said Ja’afar, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I had it in mind to beg the gown of thee; but now I will go straight to the Fisherman and buy it of him.” The Caliph replied, “By Allah, he hath cut off a third part of the skirt and spoilt it! But, O Ja’afar, I am tired with fishing in the river, for I have caught great store of fish which I left on the bank with my master Khalifah, and he is watching them and waiting for me to return to him with a couple of frails and a matchet. 2 Then we are to go, I and he, to the market and sell the fish and share the price.” Ja’afar rejoined, “O Commander of the Faithful, I will bring you a purchaser for your fish.” And Al–Rashid retorted, “O Ja’afar, by the virtue of my holy forefathers, whoso bringeth me one of the fish that are before Khalifah, who taught me angling, I will give him for it a gold dinar.” So the crier proclaimed among the troops that they should go forth and buy fish for the Caliph, and they all arose and made for the river-side. Now, while Khalifah was expecting the Caliph’s return with the two frails, behold, the Mamelukes swooped down upon him like vultures and took the fish and wrapped them in gold-embroidered kerchiefs, beating one another in their eagerness to get at the Fisherman. Whereupon quoth Khalifah, “Doubtless these are of the fish of Paradise!” 3 and hending two fish in right hand and left, plunged into the water up to his neck and fell a-saying, “O Allah, by the virtue of these fish, let Thy servant the piper, my partner, come to me at this very moment.” And suddenly up to him came a black slave which was the chief of the Caliph’s negro eunuchs. He had tarried behind the rest, by reason of his horse having stopped to make water by the way, and finding that naught remained of the fish, little or much, looked right and left, till he espied Khalifah standing in the stream, with a fish in either hand, and said to him, “Come hither, O Fisherman!” But Khalifah replied, “Begone and none of your impudence!” 4 So the eunuch went up to him and said, “Give me the fish and I will pay thee their price.” Replied the Fisherman, “Art thou little of wit? I will not sell them.” Therewith the eunuch drew his mace upon him, and Khalifah cried out, saying, “Strike not, O loon! Better largesse than the mace.” 5 So saying, he threw the two fishes to the eunuch, who took them and laid them in his kerchief. Then he put hand in pouch, but found not a single dirham and said to Khalifah, “O Fisherman, verily thou art out of luck for, by Allah, I have not a silver about me! But come to-morrow to the Palace of the Caliphate and ask for the eunuch Sandal; whereupon the castratos will direct thee to me and by coming thither thou shalt get what falleth to thy lot and therewith wend thy ways.” Quoth Khalifah, “Indeed, this is a blessed day and its blessedness was manifest from the first of it!”6 Then he shouldered his net and returned to Baghdad; and as he passed through the streets, the folk saw the Caliph’s gown on him and stared at him till he came to the gate of his quarter, by which was the shop of the Caliph’s tailor. When the man saw him wearing a dress of the apparel of the Caliph, worth a thousand dinars, he said to him, “O Khalifah, whence hadst thou that gown?” Replied the Fisherman, “What aileth thee to be impudent? I had it of one whom I taught to fish and who is become my apprentice. O forgave him the cutting off of his hand 7 for that he stole my clothes and gave me this cape in their place.” So the tailor knew that the Caliph had come upon him as he was fishing and jested with him and given him the gown; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Bi-fardayn” = with two baskets, lit. “two singles,” but the context shows what is meant. English Frail and French Fraile are from Arab. “Farsalah” a parcel (now esp. of coffee-beans) evidently derived from the low Lat. “Parcella” (Du Cange, Paris, firmin Didot 1845). Compare “ream,” vol. v. 109.
2 Arab. “Sátúr,” a kind of chopper which here would be used for the purpose of splitting and cleaning and scaling the fish.
3 And, consequently, that the prayer he is about to make will find ready acceptance.
4 Arab. “Ruh bilá Fuzúl” (lit. excess, exceeding) still a popular phrase.
5 i.e. better give the fish than have my head broken.
6 Said ironicè, a favourite figure of speech with the Fellah: the day began badly and threatened to end unluckily.
7 The penalty of Theft. See vol. i. 274.
She resume, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph came upon Khalifah the Fisherman and gave him his own gown in jest wherewith the man fared home. Such was his case; but as regards Harun al-Rashid, he had gone out a-hunting and a-fishing only to divert his thoughts from the damsel, Kut al-Kulub. But when Zubaydah heard of her and of the Caliph’s devotion to her, the Lady was fired with the jealousy which the more especially fireth women, so that she refused meat and drink and rejected the delights of sleep and awaited the Caliph’s going forth on a journey or what not, that she might set a snare for the damsel. So when she learnt that he was gone hunting and fishing, she bade her women furnish the Palace fairly and decorate it splendidly and serve up viands and confections; and amongst the rest she made a China dish of the daintiest sweetmeats that can be made wherein she had put Bhang. Then she ordered one of her eunuchs go to the damsel Kut al-Kulub and bid her to the banquet, saying, “The Lady Zubaydah bint Al–Kasim, the wife of the Commander of the Faithful, hath drunken medicine to-day and, having heard tell of the sweetness of thy singing, longeth to divert herself somewhat of thine art.” Kut al-Kulub replied, “Hearing and obedience are due to Allah and the Lady Zubaydah,” and rose without stay or delay, unknowing what was hidden for her in the Secret Purpose. Then she took with her what instruments she needed and, accompanying the eunuch, ceased not fairing till she stood in the presence of the Princess. When she entered she kissed ground before her again and again, then rising to her feet, said, “Peace be on the Lady of the exalted house Abbasi and scion of the Prophet’s family! May Allah fulfil thee of peace and prosperity in the days and the years!” 1 Then she stood with the rest of the women and eunuchs, and presently the Lady Zubaydah raised her eyes and considered her beauty and loveliness. She saw a damsel with cheeks smooth as rose and breasts like granado, a face moon-bright, a brow flower-white and great eyes black as night; her eyelids were langour-dight and her face beamed with light, as if the sun from her forehead arose and the murks of the night from the locks of her brow; and the fragrance of musk from her breath strayed and flowers bloomed in her lovely face inlaid; the moon beamed from her forehead and in her slender shape the branches swayed. She was like the full moon shining in the nightly shade; her eyes wantoned, her eyebrows were like a bow arched and her lips of coral moulded. Her beauty amazed all who espied her and her glances amated all who eyed her. Glory be to Him who formed her and fashioned her and perfected her! Brief, she was even as saith the poet of one who favoured her,
“When she’s incensed thou seest folk like slain,
And when she’s pleased, their souls are quick again:
Her eyne are armed with glances magical
Wherewith she kills and quickens as she’s fain.
The Worlds she leadeth captive with her eyes
As tho’ the Worlds were all her slavish train.”
Quoth the Lady Zubaydah, “Well come, and welcome and fair cheer to thee, O Kut al-Kulub! Sit and divert us with thine art and the goodliness of thine accomplishments.” Quoth the damsel, “I hear and I obey”; and, putting out her hand, took the tambourine, whereof one of its praisers speaketh in the following verses,
“Ho thou o’ the tabret, my heart takes flight
And love-smit cries while thy fingers smite!
Thou takest naught but a wounded heart,
The while for acceptance longs the wight:
So say thou word or heavy or light;
Play whate’er thou please it will charm the sprite.
Sois bonne, unveil thy cheek, ma belle
Rise, deftly dance and all hearts delight.”
Then she smote the tambourine briskly and so sang thereto, that she stopped the birds in the sky and the place danced with them blithely; after which she laid down the tambourine and took the pipe 2 whereof it is said,
“She hath eyes whose babes wi’ their fingers sign
To sweet tunes without a discordant line.”
And as the poet also said in this couplet,
“And, when she announceth the will to sing,
For Union-joy ’tis a time divine!”
Then she laid down the pipe, after she had charmed therewith all who were present, and took up the lute, whereof saith the poet,
“How many a blooming bough in the glee-girl’s hand is fain as lute to ‘witch great souls by charm of cunning strain!
She sweeps tormenting lute strings by her artful touch
Wi’ finger-tips that surely chain with endless chain.”
Then she tightened its pegs and tuned its strings and laying it in her lap, bended over it as mother bendeth over child; and it seemed as it were of her and her lute that the poet spoke in these couplets,
“Sweetly discourses she on Persian string
And Unintelligence makes understand.
And teaches she that Love’s a murtherer,
Who oft the reasoning Moslem hath unmann’d.
A maid, by Allah, in whose palm a thing
Of painted wood like mouth can speech command.
With lute she stauncheth flow of Love; and so
Stops flow of blood the cunning leach’s hand.”
Then she preluded in fourteen different modes and sang to the lute an entire piece, so as to confound the gazers and delight her hearers. After which she recited these two couplets,
“The coming unto thee is blest:
Therein new joys for aye attend:
Its blisses are continuous
Its blessings never end.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the maiden, Kut al-Kulub, after singing these songs and sweeping the strings in presence of the Lady Zubaydah, rose and exhibited tricks of sleight of hand and legerdemain and all manner pleasing arts, till the Princess came near to fall in love with her and said to herself, “Verily, my cousin Al–Rashid is not to blame for loving her!” Then the damsel kissed ground before Zubaydah and sat down, whereupon they set food before her. Presently they brought her the drugged dish of sweetmeats and she ate thereof; and hardly had it settled in her stomach when her head fell backward and she sank on the ground sleeping. With this, the Lady said to her women, “Carry her up to one of the chambers, till I summon her”; and they replied, “We hear and we obey.” Then said she to one of her eunuchs, “Fashion me a chest and bring it hitherto to me!”, and shortly afterwards she bade make the semblance of a tomb and spread the report that Kut al-Kulub had choked and died, threatening her familiars that she would smite the neck of whoever should say, “She is alive.” Now, behold, the Caliph suddenly returned from the chase, and the first enquiry he made was for the damsel. So there came to him one of his eunuchs, whom the Lady Zubaydah had charged to declare she was dead, if the Caliph should ask for her and, kissing ground before him, said, “May thy head live, O my lord! Be certified that Kut al-Kulub choked in eating and is dead.” Whereupon cried Al–Rashid, “God never gladden thee with good news, O thou bad slave!” and entered the Palace, where he heard of her death from every one and asked, “Where is her tomb?” So they brought him to the sepulchre and showed him the pretended tomb, saying, “This is her burial-place.” When he saw it, he cried out and wept and embraced it, quoting these two couplets, 1
“By Allah, O tomb, have her beauties ceased and disappeared from sight
And is the countenance changed and wan, that shone so wonder-bright?
O tomb, O tomb, thou art neither heaven nor garden, verily:
How comes it then that swaying branch and moon in thee unite?
The Caliph, weeping sore for her, abode by the tomb a full hour, after which he arose and went away, in the utmost distress and the deepest melancholy. So the Lady Zubaydah saw that her plot had succeeded and forthright sent for the eunuch and said, “Hither with the chest!” He set it before her, when she bade bring the damsel and locking her up therein, said to the Eunuch, “Take all pains to sell this chest and make it a condition with the purchaser that he buy it locked; then give alms with its price.” 2 So he took it and went forth, to do her bidding. Thus fared it with these; but as for Khalifah the Fisherman, when morning morrowed and shone with its light and sheen, he said to himself, “I cannot do aught better to-day than visit the Eunuch who bought the fish of me, for he appointed me to come to him in the Palace of the Caliphate.” So he went forth of his lodging, intending for the palace, and when he came thither, he found Mamelukes, negro-slaves and eunuchs standing and sitting; and looking at them, behold, seated amongst them was the Eunuch who had taken the fish of him, with the white slaves waiting on him. Presently, one of the Mameluke-lads called out to him; whereupon the Eunuch turned to see who he was an lo! it was the Fisherman. Now when Khalifah was ware that he saw him and recognized him, he said to him, “I have not failed thee, O my little Tulip! 3 On this wise are men of their word.” Hearing his address, Sandal the Eunuch 4 laughed and replied, “By Allah, thou art right, O Fisherman,” and put his hand to his pouch, to give him somewhat; but at that moment there arose a great clamour. So he raised his head to see what was to do and finding that it was the Wazir Ja’afar the Barmecide coming forth from the Caliph’s presence, he rose to him and forewent him, and they walked about, conversing for a longsome time. Khalifah the Fisherman waited awhile; then, growing weary of standing and finding that the Eunuch took no heed of him, he set himself in his way and beckoned to him from afar, saying, “O my lord Tulip, give me my due and let me go!” The Eunuch heard him, but was ashamed to answer him because of the minister’s presence; so he went on talking with Ja’afar and took no notice whatever of the Fisherman. Whereupon quoth Khalifah, “O Slow o’ Pay! 5 May Allah put to shame all churls and all who take folks’s goods and are niggardly with them! I put myself under thy protection, O my lord Bran-belly, 6 to give me my due and let me go!” The Eunuch heard him, but was ashamed to answer him before Ja’afar; and the Minister saw the Fisherman beckoning and talking to him, though he knew not what he was saying; so he said to Sandal, misliking his behaviour, “O Eunuch, what would yonder beggar with thee?” Sandal replied, “Dost thou not know him, O my lord the Wazir?”; and Ja’afar answered, “By Allah, I know him not! How should I know a man I have never seen but at this moment?” Rejoined the Eunuch, “O my lord, this is the Fisherman whose fish we seized on the banks of the Tigris. I came too late to get any and was ashamed to return to the Prince of True Believers, empty-handed, when all the Mamelukes had some. Presently I espied the Fisherman standing in mid-stream, calling on Allah, with four fishes in his hands, and said to him, ‘Give me what thou hast there and take their worth.’ He handed me the fish and I put my hand into my pocket, purposing to gift him with somewhat, but found naught therein and said, ‘Come to me in the Palace, and I will give thee wherewithal to aid thee in thy poverty. So he came to me to-day and I was putting hand to pouch, that I might give him somewhat, when thou camest forth and I rose to wait on thee and was diverted with thee from him, till he grew tired of waiting and this is the whole story, how he cometh to be standing here.” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These lines occur in vol. i. 76: I quote Mr. Payne.
2 The instinctive way of juggling with Heaven like our sanding the sugar and going to church.
3 Arab. “Yá Shukayr,” from Shakar, being red (clay, etc.): Shukár is an anemone or a tulip and Shukayr is its dim. Form. Lane’s Shaykh made it a dim. of “Ashkar” = tawny, ruddy (of complexion), so the former writes, “O Shukeyr.” Mr. Payne prefers “O Rosy cheeks.”
4 For “Sandal,” see vol. ii. 50. Sandalí properly means an Eunuch clean rasé, but here Sandal is a P.N. = Sandal-wood.
5 Arab. “Yá mumátil,” one who retards payment.
6 Arab. “Kirsh al-Nukhál” = guts of bran, a term too little fitted for the handsome and distinguished Persian. But Khalifah is a Fallah-grazioso of normal assurance shrewd withal; he blunders like an Irishman of the last generation and he uses the first epithet that comes to his tongue. See Night dcccxliii. for the sudden change in Khalifah.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sandal the Eunuch related to Ja’afar the Barmecide the tale of Khalifah the Fisherman, ending with, “This is the whole story and how he cometh to be standing here!” the Wazir, hearing this account, smiled and said, “O Eunuch, how is it that this Fisherman cometh in his hour of need and thou satisfiest him not? Dost thou not know him, O Chief of the Eunuchs?” “No,” answered Sandal and Ja’afar said, “This is the Master of the Commander of the Faithful, and his partner and our lord the Caliph has arisen this morning, strait of breast, heavy of heart and troubled of thought, nor is there aught will broaden his breast save this fisherman. So let him not go, till I crave the Caliph’s pleasure concerning him and bring him before him; perchance Allah will relieve him of his oppression and console him for the loss of Kut al-Kulub, by means of the Fisherman’s presence, and he will give him wherewithal to better himself; and thou wilt be the cause of this.” Replied Sandal, “O my lord, do as thou wilt and may Allah Almighty long continue thee a pillar of the dynasty of the Commander of the Faithful, whose shadow Allah perpetuate 1 and prosper it, root and branch!” Then the Wazir Ja’afar rose up and went in to the Caliph, and Sandal ordered the Mamelukes not to leave the Fisherman; whereupon Khalifah cried, “How goodly is thy bounty, O Tulip! The seeker is become the sought. I come to seek my due, and they imprison me for debts in arrears!” 2 When Ja’afar came in to the presence of the Caliph, he found him sitting with his head bowed earthwards, breast straitened and mind melancholy, humming the verses of the poet,
“My blamers instant bid that I for her become consoled;
But I, what can I do, whose heart declines to be controlled?
And how can I in patience bear the loss of lovely maid,
When fails me patience for a love that holds with firmest hold!
Ne’er I’ll forget her nor the bowl that ‘twixt us both went round
And wine of glances maddened me with drunkenness ensoul’d.”
Whenas Ja’afar stood in the presence, he said, “Peace be upon thee, O Commander of the Faithful, Defender of the honour of the Faith and descendant of the uncle of the Prince of the Apostles, Allah assain him and save him and his family one and all!” The Caliph raised his head and answered, “And on thee be peace and the mercy of Allah and His blessings!” Quoth Ja’afar; “With leave of the Prince of True Believers, his servant would speak without restraint.” Asked the Caliph, “And when was restraint put upon thee in speech and thou the Prince of Wazirs? Say what thou wilt.” Answered Ja’afar, “When I went out, O my lord, from before thee, intending for my house, I saw standing at the door thy master and teacher and partner, Khalifah the Fisherman, who was aggrieved at thee and complained of thee saying, ‘Glory be to God! I taught him to fish and he went away to fetch me a pair of frails, but never came back: and this is not the way of a good partner or of a good apprentice.’ So, if thou hast a mind to partnership, well and good; and if not, tell him, that he may take to partner another.” Now when the Caliph heard these words he smiled and his straitness of breast was done away with and he said, “My life on thee, is this the truth thou sayest, that the Fisherman standeth at the door?” and Ja’afar replied, “By thy life, O Commander of the Faithful, he standeth at the door.” Quoth the Caliph, “O Ja’afar, by Allah, I will assuredly do my best to give him his due! If Allah at my hands send him misery, he shall have it; and if prosperity he shall have it.” Then he took a piece of paper and cutting it in pieces, said to the Wazir, “O Ja’afar, write down with thine own hand twenty sums of money, from one dinar to a thousand, and the names of all kinds of offices and dignitaries from the least appointment to the Caliphate; also twenty kinds of punishment from the lightest beating to death.” 3 “I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,” answered Ja’afar, and did as he was bidden. Then said the Caliph, “O Ja’afar, I swear by my holy forefathers and by my kinship to Hamzah 4 and Akil, 5 that I mean to summon the fisherman and bid him take one of these papers, whose contents none knowesth save thou and I; and whatsoever is written in the paper which he shall choose, I will give it to him; though it be the Caliphate I will divest myself thereof and invest him therewith and grudge it not to him; and, on the other hand, if there be written therein hanging or mutilation or death, I will execute it upon him. Now go and fetch him to me.” When Ja’afar heard this, he said to himself, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! It may be somewhat will fall to this poor wretch’s lot that will bring about his destruction, and I shall be the cause. But the Caliph hath sworn; so nothing remains now but to bring him in, and naught will happen save whatso Allah willeth.” Accordingly he went out to Khalifah the Fisherman and laid hold of his hand to carry him in to the Caliph, whereupon his reason fled and he said in himself, “What a stupid I was to come after yonder ill-omened slave, Tulip, whereby he hath brought me in company with Bran-belly!” Ja’afar fared on with him, with Mamelukes before and behind, whilst he said, “Doth not arrest suffice, but these must go behind and before me, to hinder my making off?” till they had traversed seven vestibules, when the Wazir said to him, “Mark my words, O Fisherman! Thou standest before the Commander of the Faithful and Defender of the Faith!” Then he raised the great curtain and Khalifah’s eyes fell on the Caliph, who was seated on his couch, with the Lords of the realm standing in attendance upon him. As soon as he knew him, he went up to him and said, “Well come, and welcome to thee, O piper! ‘Twas not right of thee to make thyself a Fisherman and go away, leaving me sitting to guard the fish, and never to return! For, before I was aware, there came up Mamelukes on beasts of all manner colours, and snatched away the fish from me, I standing alone, and this was all of thy fault; for, hadst thou returned with the frails forthright, we had sold an hundred dinars’ worth of fish. And now I come to seek my due, and they have arrested me but thou, who hath imprisoned thee also in this place?” The Caliph smiled and raising a corner of the curtain, put forth his head and said to the Fisherman, “Come hither and take thee one of these papers.” Quoth Khalifah the Fisherman, “Yesterday thou wast a fisherman, and to-day thou hast become an astrologer; but the more trades a man hath, the poorer he waxeth.” Thereupon, Ja’afar, said, “Take the paper at once, and do as the Commander of the Faithful biddeth thee without prating.” So he came forward and put forth his hand saying, “Far be it from me that this piper should ever again be my knave and fish with me!” Then taking the paper he handed it to the Caliph, saying, “O piper, what hath come out for me therein? Hide naught thereof.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 So the Persian “May your shadow never be less” means, I have said, the shadow which you throw over your servant. Shade, cold water and fresh breezes are the joys of life in arid Arabia.
2 When a Fellah demanded money due to him by the Government of Egypt, he was a once imprisoned for arrears of taxes and thus prevented from being troublesome. I am told that matters have improved under English rule, but I “doubt the fact.”
3 This freak is of course not historical. The tale-teller introduces it to enhance the grandeur and majesty of Harun al-Rashid, and the vulgar would regard it as a right kingly diversion. Westerns only wonder that such things could be.
4 Uncle of the Prophet: for his death see Pilgrimage ii. 248.
5 First cousin of the Prophet, son of Abú Tálib, a brother of Al–Abbas from whom the Abbasides claimed descent.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Khalifah the Fisherman took up one of the papers and handed it to the Caliph he said, “O piper, what have come out to me therein? Hide naught thereof.” So Al–Rashid received it and passed it on to Ja’afar and said to him, “Read what is therein.” He looked at it and said, “There is no Majesty there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Said the Caliph, “Good news, 1 O Ja’afar? What seest thou therein?” Answered the Wazir, “O Commander of the Faithful, there came up from the paper, ‘Let the Fisherman receive an hundred blows with a stick.’” So the Caliph commanded to beat the Fisherman and they gave him an hundred sticks: after which he arose, saying, “Allah damn this, O Bran-belly! Are jail and sticks part of the game?” Then said Ja’afar, “O Commander of the Faithful, this poor devil is come to the river, and how shall he go away thirsting? We hope that among the alms-deeds of the Commander of the Faithful, he may have leave to take another paper, so haply somewhat may come out wherewithal he may succor his poverty.” Said the Caliph, “By Allah, O Ja’afar, if he take another paper and death be written therein, I will assuredly kill him, and thou wilt be the cause.” Answered Ja’afar, “If he die he will be at rest.” But Khalifah the Fisherman said to him, “Allah ne’er gladden thee with good news! Have I made Baghdad strait upon you, that ye seek to slay me?” Quoth Ja’afar, “Take thee a paper and crave the blessing of Allah Almighty!” So he put out his hand and taking a paper, gave it to Ja’afar, who read it and was silent. The Caliph asked, “Why art thou silent, O son of Yahya?”; and he answered, “O Commander of the Faithful, there hath come out on this paper, ‘Naught shall be given to the Fisherman.’” Then said the Caliph, “His daily bread will not come from us: bid him fare forth from before our face.” Quoth Ja’afar, “By the claims of thy pious forefathers, let him take a third paper, it may be it will bring him alimony;” and quoth the Caliph, “Let him take one and no more.” So he put out his hand and took a third paper, and behold, therein was written, “Let the Fisherman be given one dinar.” Ja’afar cried to him, “I sought good fortune for thee, but Allah willed not to thee aught save this dinar.” And Khalifah answered, “Verily, a dinar for every hundred sticks were rare good luck, may Allah not send thy body health!” The Caliph laughed at him and Ja’afar took him by the hand and led him out. When he reached the door, Sandal the eunuch saw him and said to him, “Hither, O Fisherman! Give us portion of that which the Commander of the Faithful hath bestowed on thee, whilst jesting with thee.” Replied Khalifah, “By Allah, O Tulip, thou art right! Wilt share with me, O nigger? Indeed I have eaten stick to the tune of an hundred blows and have earned one dinar, and thou art but too welcome to it.” So saying, he threw him the dinar and went out, with the tears flowing down the plain of his cheeks. When the eunuch saw him in this plight, he knew that he had spoken sooth and called to the lads to fetch him back: so they brought him back and Sandal, putting his hand to his pouch, pulled out a red purse, whence he emptied an hundred golden dinars into the Fisherman’s hand, saying, “Take this gold in payment of thy fish and wend thy ways.” So Khalifah, in high good humor, took the hundred ducats and the Caliph’s one dinar and went his way, and forgot the beating. Now, as Allah willed it for the furthering of that which He had decreed, he passed by the mart of the hand-maidens and seeing there a mighty ring where many folks were foregathering, said to himself, “What is this crowd?” So he brake through the merchants and others, who said, “Make wide for the Skipper Rapscallion, 2 and let him pass.” Then he looked and behold, he saw a chest, with an eunuch seated thereon and an old man standing by it, and the Shaykh was crying, “O merchants, O men of money, who will hasten and hazard his coin for this chest of unknown contents from the Palace of the Lady Zubaydah bint al-Kasim, wife of the Commander of the Faithful? How much shall I say for you, Allah bless you all!” Quoth one of the merchants, “By Allah, this is a risk! But I will say one word and no blame to me. Be it mine for twenty dinars.” Quoth another, “Fifty,” and they went on bidding, one against other, till the price reached an hundred ducats. Then said the crier, “Will any of you bid more, O merchants?” And Khalifah the Fisherman said, “Be it mine for an hundred ducats and one dinar.” The merchants, hearing these words, thought he was jesting and laughed at him, saying, “O eunuch sell it to Khalifah for an hundred ducats and one dinar!” Quoth the eunuch, “By Allah, I will sell it to none but him! Take it, O Fisherman, the Lord bless thee in it, and here with thy gold.” So Khalifah pulled out the ducats and gave them to the eunuch, who, the bargain being duly made, delivered to him the chest and bestowed the price in alms on the spot; after which he returned to the Palace and acquainted the Lady Zubaydah with what he had done, whereat she rejoiced. Meanwhile the Fisherman hove the chest on shoulder, but could not carry it on this wise for the excess of its weight; so he lifted it on to his head and thus bore it to the quarter where he lived. Here he set it down and being weary, sat awhile, bemusing what had befallen him and saying in himself, “Would Heaven I knew what is in this chest!” Then he opened the door of his lodging and haled the chest until he got it into his closet; after which he strove to open it, but failed. Quoth he, “What folly possessed me to buy this chest? There is no help for it but to break it open and see what is herein.” So he applied himself to the lock, but could not open it, and said to himself, “I will leave it till to-morrow.” Then he would have stretched him out to sleep, but could find no room; for the chest filled the whole closet. So he got upon it and lay him down; but, when he had lain awhile, behold, he felt something stir under him whereat sleep forsook him and his reason fled. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Khalifah the Fisherman lay down upon the chest and thus tarried awhile, behold, something stirred beneath him; whereat he was affrighted and his reason fled. So he arose and cried, “Meseems there be Jinns in the chest. Praise to Allah who suffered me not to open it! For, had I done so, they had risen against me in the dark and slain me, and from them would have befallen me naught of good.” Then he lay down again when, lo! The chest moved a second time, more than before; whereupon he sprang to his feet and said, “There it goes again: but this is terrible!” And he hastened to look for the lamp, but could not find it and had not the wherewithal to buy another. So he went forth and cried out, “Ho, people of the quarter!” Now the most part of the folk were asleep; but they awoke at his crying and asked, “What aileth thee, O Khalifah?” He answered, “Bring me a lamp, for the Jinn are upon me.” They laughed at him and gave him a lamp, wherewith he returned to his closet. Then he smote the lock of the chest with a stone and broke it and opening it, saw a damsel like a Houri lying asleep within. Now she had been drugged with Bhang, but at that moment she threw up the stuff and awoke; then she opened her eyes and feeling herself confined and cramped, moved. At this sight quoth Khalifah, “By Allah, O my lady, whence art thou?”; and quoth she, “Bring me Jessamine, and Narcissus.” 1 and Khalifah answered, “There is naught here but Henna-flowers.” 2 thereupon she came to herself and considering Khalifah, said to him, “What art thou?” presently adding, “And where am I?” He said, “Thou art in my lodging.” Asked she, “Am I not in the Palace of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid?” And quoth he, “What manner of thing is Al–Rashid? 3 O madwoman, Thou art naught but my slave-girl: I bought thee this very day for an hundred dinars and one dinar, and brought thee home, and thou wast asleep in this here chest.” When she had heard these words she said to him, “What is thy name?” Said he, “My name is Khalifah. How comes my star to have grown propitious, when I know my ascendant to have been otherwise?” She laughed and cried, “Spare me this talk! Hast thou anything to eat?” Replied he, “No, by Allah, nor yet to drink! I have not eaten these two days, and am now in want of a morsel.” She asked, “Hast thou no money?”; and he said, “Allah keep this chest which hath beggared me: I gave all I had for it and am become bankrupt.” The damsel laughed at him and said, “Up with thee and seek of thy neighbours somewhat for me to eat, for I am hungry.” So he went forth and cried out, “Ho, people of the quarter!” Now the folk were asleep; but they awoke and asked, “What aileth thee, O Khalifah?” Answered he, O my neighbours, I am hungry and have nothing to eat.” So one came down to him with a bannock and another with broken meats and third with a bittock of cheese and a fourth with a cucumber; and so on till he lap was full and he returned to his closet and laid the whole between her hands, saying, “Eat.” But she laughed at him, saying, “How can I eat of this, when I have not a mug of water whereof to drink? I fear to choke with a mouthful and die.” Quoth he, “I will fill thee this pitcher.”4 so he took the pitcher and going forth, stood in the midst of the street and cried out, saying, “Ho, people of the quarter!” Quoth they, “What calamity is upon thee to-night, 5 O Khalifah!” And he said, “Ye gave me food and I ate; but now I am a-thirst; so give me to drink.” Thereupon one came down to him with a mug and another with an ewer and a third with a gugglet; and he filled his pitcher and, bearing it back, said to the damsel, “O my lady, thou lackest nothing now.” Answered she, “True, I want nothing more at this present.” Quoth he, “Speak to me and say me thy story.” And quoth she, “Fie upon thee! An thou knowest me not, I will tell thee who I am. I am Kut al-Kulub, the Caliph’s handmaiden, and the Lady Zubaydah was jealous of me; so she drugged me with Bhang and set me in this chest,” presently adding, “Alham-dolillah — praised be God — for that the matter hath come to easy issue and no worse! But this befel me not save for thy good luck, for thou wilt certainly get of the Caliph Al–Rashid money galore, that will be the means of thine enrichment.” Quoth Khalifah, “I not Al–Rashid he in whose Palace I was imprisoned?” “Yes,” answered she; and he said, “By Allah, never saw I more niggardly wight than he, that piper little of good and wit! He gave me an hundred blows with a stick yesterday and but one dinar, for all I taught him to fish and made him my partner; but he played me false.” Replied she, “Leave this unseemly talk, and open thine eyes and look thou bear thyself respectfully, whenas thou seest him after this, and thou shalt win thy wish.” When he heard her words, it was if he had been asleep and awoke; and Allah removed the veil from his judgment, because of his good luck, 6 and he answered, “On my head and eyes!” Then said he to her, “Sleep, in the name of Allah.” 7 so she lay down and fell asleep (and he afar from her) till the morning, when she sought of him inkcase 8 and paper and, when they were brought wrote to Ibn al-Kirnas, the Caliph’s friend, acquainting him with her case and how at the end of all that had befallen her she was with Khalifah the Fisherman, who had bought her. Then she gave him the scroll, saying, “Take this and hie thee to the jewel-market and ask for the shop of Ibn al-Kirnas the Jeweller and give him this paper and speak not.” “I hear and I obey,” answered Khalifah and going with the scroll to the market, enquired for the shop of Ibn al-Kirnas. They directed him to thither and on entering it he saluted the merchant, who returned his salim with contempt and said to him, “What dost thou want?” Thereupon he gave him the letter and he took it, but read it not, thinking the Fisherman a beggar, who sought an alms of him, and said to one of his lads, “Give him half a dirham.” Quoth Khalifah, “I want to alms; read the paper.” So Ibn al-Kirnas took the letter and read it; and no sooner knew its import than he kissed it and laying it on his head — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Yásamín and Narjis, names of slave-girls or eunuchs.
2 Arab. Tamar-hanná, the cheapest of dyes used ever by the poorest classes. Its smell, I have said, is that of newly mown hay, and is prized like that of the tea-rose.
3 The formula (meaning, “What has he to do here?”) is by no means complimentary.
4 Arab. “Jarrah” (pron. “Garrah”) a “jar.” See Lane (M.E. chapt. v.) who was deservedly reproached by Baron von Hammer for his superficial notices. The “Jarrah” is of pottery, whereas the “Dist” is a large copper chauldron and the Khalkinah one of lesser size.
5 i.e. What a bother thou art, etc.
6 This sudden transformation, which to us seems exaggerated and unnatural, appears in many Eastern stories and in the biographies of their distinguished men, especially students. A youth cannot master his lessons; he sees a spider climbing a slippery wall and after repeated falls succeeding. Allah opens the eyes of his mind, his studies become easy to him, and he ends with being an Allámah (doctissimus).
7 Arab. “Bismillah, Námí!” here it is not a blessing, but a simple invitation, “Now please go to sleep.”
8 The modern inkcase of the Universal East is a lineal descendant of the wooden palette with writing reeds. See an illustration of that of “Amásis, the good god and lord of the two lands” (circ. B.C. 1350) in British Museum (p. 41, “The Dwellers on the Nile,” by E. A. Wallis Bridge, London, 56, Paternoster Row, 1885).
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Ibn al-Kirnas read the letter and knew its import, he kissed it and laid it on his head; then he arose and said to Khalifah, “O my brother, where is thy house?” Asked Khalifah, “What wantest thou with my house? Wilt thou go thither and steal my slave-girl?” Then Ibn al-Kirnas answered, “No so: on the contrary, I will buy thee somewhat whereof you may eat, thou and she.” So he said, “My house is in such a quarter;” and the merchant rejoined, “Thou hast done well. May Allah not give thee health, O unlucky one!” 1 Then he called out to two of his slaves and said to them, “Carry this man to the shop of Mohsin the Shroff and say to him, ‘O Mohsin, give this man a thousand dinars of gold;’ then bring him back to me in haste.” So they carried him to the money-changer, who paid him the money, and returned with him to their master, whom they found mounted on a dapple she-mule worth a thousand dinars, with Mamelukes and pages about him, and by his side another mule like his own, saddled and bridled. Quoth the jeweller to Khalifah, “Bismillah, mount this mule.” Replied he, “I won’t; for by Allah, I fear she throw me;” and quoth Ibn al-Kirnas, “By God, needs must thou mount.” So he came up and mounting her, face to crupper, caught hold of her tail and cried out; whereupon she threw him on the ground and they laughed at him; but he rose and said, “Did I not tell thee I would not mount this great jenny-ass?” Thereupon Ibn al-Kirnas left him in the market and repairing to the Caliph, told him of the damsel; after which he returned and removed her to his own house. Meanwhile, Khalifah went home to look after the handmaid and found the people of the quarter foregathering and saying, “Verily, Khalifah is to-day in a terrible pickle! 2 Would we knew whence he can have gotten this damsel?” Quoth one of them, “He is a mad pimp; haply he found her lying on the road drunken, and carried her to his own house, and his absence showeth his offence.” As they were talking, behold, up came Khalifah, and they said to him, “What a plight is thine, O unhappy! Knowest thou not what is come for thee?” He replied, “No, by Allah!” and they said, “But just now there came Mamelukes and took away thy slave-girl whom thou stolest, and sought for thee, but found thee not.” Asked Khalifah, “And how came they to take my slave-girl?”; and quoth one, “Had he falled in their way, they had slain him.” But he, so far from heeding them, returned running to the shop of Ibn al-Kirnas, whom he met riding, and said to him, “By Allah, ’twas not right of thee to wheedle me and meanwhile send thy Mamelukes to take my slave-girl!” Replied the jeweller, “O idiot, come with me and hold thy tongue.” So he took him and carried him into a house handsomely builded, where he found the damsel seated on a couch of gold, with ten slave-girls like moons round her. Sighting her Ibn al-Kirnas kissed ground before her and she said, “What hast thou done with my new master, who bought me with all he owned?” He replied, “O my lady, I gave him a thousand gold dinars;” and related to her Khalifah’s history from first to last, whereat she laughed and said, “Blame him not; for he is but a common wight. These other thousand dinars are a gift from me to him and Almighty Allah willing, he shall win of the Caliph what shall enrich him.” As they were talking, there came an eunuch from the Commander of the Faithful, in quest of Kut al-Kulub, for, when he knew that she was in the house of Ibn al-Kirnas, he could not endure the severance, but bade bring her forthwith. So she repaired to the Palace, taking Khalifah with her, and going into the presence, kissed ground before the Caliph, who rose to her, saluting and welcoming her, and asked her how she had fared with him who had bought her. She replied, “He is a man, Khalifah the Fisherman hight, and there he standeth at the door. He telleth me that he hath an account to settle with the Commander of the Faithful, by reason of a partnership between him and the Caliph in fishing.” Asked al-Rashid, “Is he at the door?” and she answered, “Yes.” So the Caliph sent for him and he kissed ground before him and wished him endurance of glory and prosperity. The Caliph marvelled at him and laughed at him and said to him, “O Fisherman, wast thou in very deed my partner 3 yesterday?” Khalifah took his meaning and heartening his heart and summoning spirit replied, “By Him who bestowed upon thee the succession to thy cousin, 4 I know her not in anywise and have had no commerce with her save by way of sight and speech!” Then he repeated to him all that had befallen him, since he last saw him, 5 whereat the Caliph laughed and his breast broadened and he said to Khalifah, “Ask of us what thou wilt, O thou to bringest to owners their own!” But he was silent; so the Caliph ordered him fifty thousand dinars of gold and a costly dress of honour such as great Sovrans don, and a she-mule, and gave him black slaves of the Súdán to serve him, so that he became as he were one of the Kings of that time. The Caliph was rejoiced at the recovery of his favourite and knew that all this was the doing of his cousin-wife, the Lady Zubaydah — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is not ironical, as Lane and Payne suppose, but a specimen of inverted speech — Thou art in luck this time!
2 Arab. “Marhúb” = terrible: Lane reads “Mar’úb” = terrified. But the former may also mean, threatened with something terrible.
3 i.e. in Kut al-Kulúb.
4 Lit. to the son of thy paternal uncle, i.e. Mohammed.
5 In the text he tells of the whole story beginning with the eunuch and the hundred dinars, the chest, etc.: but — “of no avail is a twice-told tale.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph rejoiced at the recovery of Kut al-Kulub and knew that all this was the doing of the Lady Zubaydah, his cousin-wife; wherefore he was sore enraged against her and held aloof from her a great while, visiting her not neither inclining to pardon her. When she was certified of this, she was sore concerned for his wrath and her face, that was wont to be rosy, waxed pale and wan till, when her patience was exhausted, she sent a letter to her cousin, the Commander of the Faithful making her excuses to him and confessing her offences, and ending with these verses
“I long once more the love that was between us to regain,
That I may quench the fire of grief and bate the force of bane.
O lords of me, have ruth upon the stress my passion deals
Enough to me is what you doled of sorrow and of pain.
‘Tis life to me an deign you keep the troth you deigned to plight
‘Tis death to me an troth you break and fondest vows profane:
Given I’ve sinned a sorry sin, ye grant me ruth, for naught
By
Allah, sweeter is than friend who is of pardon fain.”
When the Lady Zubaydah’s letter reached the Caliph, and reading it he saw that she confessed her offence and sent her excuses to him therefor, he said to himself, “Verily, all sins doth Allah forgive; aye, Gracious, Merciful is He!” 1 And he returned her an answer, expressing satisfaction and pardon and forgiveness for what was past, whereat she rejoiced greatly. As for Khalifah, the Fisherman, the Caliph assigned him a monthly solde of fifty dinars and took him into especial favour, which would lead to rank and dignity, honour and worship. Then he kissed ground before the Commander of the Faithful and went forth with stately gait. When he came to the door, the Eunuch Sandal, who had given him the hundred dinars, saw him and knowing him, said to him, “O Fisherman, whence all this?” So he told him all that had befallen him, first and last, whereat Sandal rejoiced, because he had been the cause of his enrichment, and said to him, “Wilt thou not give me largess of this wealth which is now become thine?” So Khalifah put hand to pouch and taking out a purse containing a thousand dinars, gave it to the Eunuch, who said, “Keep thy coins and Allah bless thee therein!” and marvelled at his manliness and at the liberality of his soul, for all his late poverty. 2 Then leaving the eunuch, Khalifah mounted his she-mule and rode, with the slaves’ hands on her crupper, till he came to his lodging at the Khan, whilst the folk stared at him in surprise for that which had betided him of advancement. When he alighted from his beast they accosted him and enquired the cause of his change from poverty to prosperity, and he told them all that had happened to him from incept to conclusion. Then he bought a fine mansion and laid out thereon much money, till it was perfect in all points. And he took up his abode therein and was wont to recite thereon these two couplets,
“Behold a house that’s like the Dwelling of Delight; 3
Its aspect heals the sick and banishes despite.
Its sojourn for the great and wise appointed it,
And Fortune fair therein abideth day and night.”
Then, as soon as he was settled in his house, he sought him in marriage the daughter of one of the chief men of the city, a handsome girl, and went in unto her and led a life of solace and satisfaction, joyaunce and enjoyment; and he rose to passing affluence and exceeding prosperity. So, when he found himself in this fortunate condition, he offered up thanks to Allah (extolled and excelled be He!) for what He had bestowed on him of wealth exceeding and of favours ever succeeding, praising his Lord with the praise of the grateful and chanting the words of the poet,
“To Thee be praise, O Thou who showest unremitting grace;
O Thou whose universal bounties high and low embrace!
To Thee be praise from me! Then deign accept my praise for I
Accept Thy boons and gifts with grateful soul in every case.
Thou hast with favours overwhelmed me, benefits and largesse
And gracious doles my memory ne’er ceaseth to retrace.
All men from mighty main, Thy grace and goodness, drain and drink;
And in their need Thou, only Thou, to them art refuge-place!
So for the sake of him who came to teach mankind in ruth
Prophet, pure, truthful-worded scion of the noblest race;
Ever be Allah’s blessing and His peace on him and all
His aids
4 and kin while pilgrims fare his noble tomb to face!
And on his helpmeets 5 one and all, Companions great and good,
Though time Eternal while the bird shall sing in shady wood!”
And thereafter Khalifah continued to pay frequent visits to the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, with whom he found acceptance and who ceased not to overwhelm him with boons and bounty: and he abode in the enjoyment of the utmost honour and happiness and joy and gladness and in riches more than sufficing and in rank ever rising; brief, a sweet life and a savoury, pure as pleasurable, till there came to him the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies; and extolled be the perfection of Him to whom belong glory and permanence and He is the Living, the Eternal, who shall never die!
1 Koran xxxix. 54. I have quoted Mr. Rodwell who affects the Arabic formula, omitting the normal copulatives.
2 Easterns find it far easier to “get the chill of poverty out of their bones” than Westerns.
3 Arab. “Dar al-Na’ím.” Name of one of the seven stages of the Moslem heaven. This style of inscription dates from the days of the hieroglyphs. A papyrus describing the happy town of Raamses ends with these lines. —
Daily is there a supply of food:
Within it gladness doth ever brood
Prolonged, increased; abides there Joy, etc., etc.
4 Arab. “Ansár” = auxiliaries, the men of Al–Medinah (Pilgrimage ii. 130, etc.).
5 Arab. “Asháb” = the companions of the Prophet who may number 500 (Pilgrimage ii. 81, etc.).
Note. I have followed the example of Mr. Payne and have translated in its entirety the Tale of Khalifah the Fisherman from the Breslau Edit. (Vol. iv. Pp. 315–365, Night ccxxi- ccxxxii.) in preference to the unsatisfactory process of amalgamating it with that of the Mac. Edit. given above.
There was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, in the city of Baghdad, a fisherman, by name Khalíf, a man of muckle talk and little luck. One day, as he sat in his cell,1 he bethought himself and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Would Heaven I knew what is my offence in the sight of my Lord and what caused the blackness of my fortune and my littleness of luck among the fishermen, albeit (and I say it who should not) in the city of Baghdad there is never a fisherman like myself.” Now he lodged in a ruined place called a Khan, to wit, an inn,2 without a door, and when he went forth to fish, he would shoulder the net, without basket or fish-slicers,3 and when the folk would stare at him and say to him, “O Khalif, why not take with thee a basket, to hold the fish thou catchest?”; he would reply, “Even as I carry it forth empty, so would it come back, for I never manage to catch aught.” One night he arose, in the darkness before dawn, and taking his net on his shoulder, raised his eyes to heaven and said, “Allah mine, O Thou who subjectedst the sea to Moses son of Imrán, give me this day my daily bread, for Thou art the best of bread-givers!” Then he went down to the Tigris and spreading his net, cast it into the river and waited till it had settled down, when he haled it in and drew it ashore, but behold, it held naught save a dead dog. So he cast away the carcase, saying, “O morning of ill doom! What a handsel is this dead hound, after I had rejoiced in its weight4!” Then he mended the rents in the net, saying, “Needs must there after this carrion be fish in plenty, attracted by the smell,” and made a second cast. After awhile, he drew up and found in the net the hough5 of a camel, that had caught in the meshes and rent them right and left. When Khalif saw his net in this state, he wept and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! I wonder what is my offence and the cause of the blackness of my fortune and the littleness of my luck, of all folk, so that I catch neither cat-fish nor sprat,6 that I may broil on the embers and eat, for all I dare say there is not in the city of Baghdad a fisherman like me.” Then with a Bismillah he cast his net a third time, and presently drawing it ashore found therein an ape scurvy and one-eyed, mangy, and limping, hending an ivory rod in forehand. When Khalif saw this, he said, “This is indeed a blessed opening! What art thou, O ape?” “Dost thou not know me?” “No, by Allah, I have no knowledge of thee!” “I am thine ape!” “What use is there in thee, O my ape?” “Every day I give thee good-morrow, so Allah may not open to thee the door of daily bread.” “Thou failest not of this, O one-eye7 of ill-omen! May Allah never bless thee! Needs must I pluck out thy sound eye and cut off thy whole leg, so thou mayst become a blind cripple and I be quit of thee. But what is the use of that rod thou hendest in hand?” “O Khalif, I scare the fish therewith, so they may not enter thy net.” “Is it so?: then this very day will I punish thee with a grievous punishment and devise thee all manner torments and strip thy flesh from thy bones and be at rest from thee, sorry bit of goods that thou art!” So saying, Khalif the Fisherman unwound from his middle a strand of rope and binding him to a tree by his side, said, “Lookee, O dog of an ape! I mean to cast the net again and if aught come up therein, well and good; but, if it come up empty, I will verily and assuredly make an end of thee, with the cruellest tortures and be quit of thee, thou stinking lot.” So he cast the net and drawing it ashore, found in it another ape and said, “Glory be to God the Great! I was wont to pull naught but fish out of this Tigris, but now it yieldeth nothing but apes.” Then he looked at the second ape and saw him fair of form and round of face with pendants of gold in his ears and a blue waistcloth about his middle, and he was like unto a lighted taper. So he asked him, “What art thou, thou also, O ape?”; and he answered, saying, “O Khalif, I am the ape of Abú al-Sa’ádát the Jew, the Caliph’s Shroff. Every day, I give him good-morrow, and he maketh a profit of ten gold pieces.” Cried the Fisherman, “By Allah, thou art a fine ape, not like this ill-omened monkey o’ mine!” So saying, he took a stick8 and came down upon the sides of the ape, till he broke his ribs and he jumped up and down. And the other ape, the handsome one, answered him, saying, “O Khalif, what will it profit thee to beat him, though thou belabour him till he die?” Khalif replied, “How shall I do? Shall I let him wend his ways that he may scare me the fish with his hang-dog face and give me good-even and good-morrow every day, so Allah may not open to me the door of daily bread? Nay, I will kill him and be quit of him and I will take thee in his stead; so shalt thou give me good-morrow and I shall gain ten golden dinars a day.” Thereupon the comely ape made answer, “I will tell thee a better way than that, and if thou hearken to me, thou shalt be at rest and I will become thine ape in lieu of him.” Asked the Fisherman, “And what dost thou counsel me?”; and the ape answered, saying, “Cast thy net and thou shalt bring up a noble fish, never saw any its like, and I will tell thee how thou shalt do with it.” Replied Khalif, “Lookee, thou too! An I throw my net and there come up therein a third ape, be assured that I will cut the three of you into six bits.” And the second ape rejoined, “So be it, O Khalif. I agree to this thy condition.” Then Khalif spread the net and cast it and drew it up, when behold, in it was a fine young barbel9 with a round head, as it were a milking-pail, which when he saw, his wits fled for joy and he said, “Glory be to God! What is this noble creature? Were yonder apes in the river, I had not brought up this fish.” Quoth the seemly ape, “O Khalif, an thou give ear to my rede, ’twill bring thee good fortune”; and quoth the Fisherman, “May God damn him who would gainsay thee henceforth!” Thereupon the ape said, “O Khalif, take some grass and lay the fish thereon in the basket10 and cover it with more grass and take also somewhat of basil11 from the green grocer’s and set it in the fish’s mouth. Cover it with a kerchief and push thee through the bazar of Baghdad. Whoever bespeaketh thee of selling it, sell it not but fare on, till thou come to the market street of the jewellers and money-changers. Then count five shops on the right-hand side and the sixth shop is that of Abu al-Sa’adat the Jew, the Caliph’s Shroff. When thou standest before him, he will say to thee, ‘What seekest thou?’; and do thou make answer, ‘I am a fisherwight, I threw my net in thy name and took this noble barbel, which I have brought thee as a present.’ If he give thee aught of silver, take it not, be it little or mickle, for it will spoil that which thou wouldst do, but say to him, ‘I want of thee naught save one word, that thou say to me, ‘I sell thee my ape for thine ape and my luck for thy luck.’ An the Jew say this, give him the fish and I shall become thine ape and this crippled, mangy and one-eyed ape will be his ape.” Khalif replied, “Well said, O ape,” nor did he cease faring Baghdad-wards and observing that which the ape had said to him, till he came to the Jew’s shop and saw the Shroff seated, with eunuchs and pages about him, bidding and forbidding and giving and taking. So he set down his basket, saying, “O Sultan of the Jews, I am a fisher-wight and went forth to-day to the Tigris and casting my net in thy name, cried, ‘This is for the luck of Abu al-Sa’adat;’ and there came up to me this Banni which I have brought thee by way of present.” Then he lifted the grass and discovered the fish to the Jew, who marvelled at its make and said, “Extolled be the perfection of the Most Excellent Creator!” Then he gave the fisherman a dinar, but he refused it and he gave him two. This also he refused and the Jew stayed not adding to his offer, till he made it ten dinars; but he still refused and Abu al-Sa’adat said to him, “By Allah, thou art a greedy one. Tell me what thou wouldst have, O Moslem!” Quoth Khalif, “I would have of thee but a single word. 12” When the Jew heard this, he changed colour and said, “Wouldst thou oust me from my faith? Wend thy ways;” and Khalif said to him, “By Allah, O Jew, naught mattereth an thou become a Moslem or a Nazarene!” Asked the Jew, “Then what wouldst thou have me say?”; and the fisherman answered, “Say, I sell thee my ape for thy ape and my luck for thy luck.” The Jew laughed, deeming him little of wit, and said by way of jest, “I sell thee my ape for thy ape and my luck for thy luck. Bear witness against him, O merchants! By Allah, O unhappy, thou art debarred from further claim on me!” So Khalif turned back, blaming himself and saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Alas that I did not take the gold!” and fared on blaming himself in the matter of the money till he came to the Tigris, but found not the two apes, whereupon he wept and slapped his face and strewed dust on his head, saying, “But that the second ape wheedled me and put a cheat on me, the one-eyed ape had not escaped.” And he gave not over wailing and weeping, till heat and hunger grew sore on him: so he took the net, saying, “Come, let us make a cast, trusting in Allah’s blessing; belike I may catch a cat-fish or a barbel which I may boil and eat.” So he threw the net and waiting till it had settled, drew it ashore and found it full of fish, whereat he was consoled and rejoiced and busied himself with unmeshing the fish and casting them on the earth. Presently, up came a woman seeking fish and crying out, “Fish is not to be found in the town.” She caught sight of Khalif, and said to him, “Wilt thou sell this fish, O Master?” Answered Khalif, “I am going to turn it into clothes, ’tis all for sale, even to my beard.13 Take what thou wilt.” So she gave him a dinar and he filled her basket. Then she went away and behold, up came another servant, seeking a dinar’s worth of fish; nor did the folk cease till it was the hour of mid-afternoon prayer and Khalif had sold ten golden dinars’ worth of fish. Then, being faint and famisht, he folded and shouldered his net and, repairing to the market, bought himself a woollen gown, a calotte with a plaited border and a honey-coloured turband for a dinar receiving two dirhams by way of change, wherewith he purchased fried cheese and a fat sheep’s tail and honey and setting them in the oilman’s platter, ate till he was full and his ribs felt cold14 from the mighty stuffing. Then he marched off to his lodgings in the magazine, clad in the gown and the honey-coloured turband and with the nine golden dinars in his mouth, rejoicing in what he had never in his life seen. He entered and lay down, but could not sleep for anxious thoughts and abode playing with the money half the night. Then said he in himself, “Haply the Caliph may hear that I have gold and say to Ja’afar, ‘Go to Khalif the Fisherman and borrow us some money of him.’ If I give it him, it will be no light matter to me, and if I give it not, he will torment me; but torture is easier to me than the giving up of the cash.15 However, I will arise and make trial of myself if I have a skin proof against stick or not.” So he put off his clothes and taking a sailor’s plaited whip, of an hundred and sixty strands, ceased not beating himself, till his sides and body were all bloody, crying out at every stroke he dealt himself and saying “O Moslems! I am a poor man! O Moslems, I am a poor man! O Moslems, whence should I have gold, whence should I have coin?” till the neighbours, who dwelt with him in that place, hearing him crying and saying, “Go to men of wealth and take of them,” thought that thieves were torturing him, to get money from him, and that he was praying for aidance. Accordingly they flocked to him each armed with some weapon and finding the door of his lodging locked and hearing him roaring out for help, deemed that the thieves had come down upon him from the terrace-roof; so they fell upon the door and burst it open. Then they entered and found him mother-naked and bareheaded with body dripping blood, and altogether in a sad pickle; so they asked him, “What is this case in which we find thee? Hast thou lost thy wits and hath Jinn-madness betided thee this night?” And he answered them, “Nay; but I have gold with me and I feared lest the Caliph send to borrow of me and it were no light matter to give him aught; yet, an I gave not to him ’tis only too sure that he would put me to the torture; wherefore I arose to see if my skin were stick-proof or not.” When they heard these words they said to him, “May Allah not assain thy body, unlucky madman that thou art! Of a surety thou art fallen mad to-night! Lie down to sleep, may Allah never bless thee! How many thousand dinars hast thou, that the Caliph should come and borrow of thee?” He replied, “By Allah, I have naught but nine dinars.” And they all said, “By Allah, he is not otherwise than passing rich!” Then they left him wondering at his want of wit, and Khalif took his cash and wrapped it in a rag, saying to himself, “Where shall I hide all this gold? An I bury it, they will take it, and if I put it out on deposit, they will deny that I did so, and if I carry it on my head,16 they will snatch it, and if I tie it to my sleeve, they will cut it away.” Presently, he espied a little breast-pocket in the gown and said, “By Allah, this is fine! ’Tis under my throat and hard by my mouth: if any put out his hand to hend it, I can come down on it with my mouth and hide it in my throttle.” So he set the rag containing the gold in the pocket and lay down, but slept not that night for suspicion and trouble and anxious thought. On the morrow, he fared forth of his lodging on fishing intent and, betaking himself to the river, went down into the water, up to his knees. Then he threw the net and shook it with might and main; whereupon the purse fell down into the stream. So he tore off gown and turband and plunged in after it, saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Nor did he give over diving and searching the stream-bed, till the day was half spent, but found not the purse. Now one saw him from afar diving and plunging and his gown and turband lying in the sun at a distance from him, with no one by them; so he watched him, till he dived again when he dashed at the clothes and made off with them. Presently, Khalif came ashore and, missing his gown and turband, was chagrined for their loss with passing cark and care and ascended a mound, to look for some passer-by, of whom he might enquire concerning them, but found none. Now the Caliph Harun al-Rashid had gone a-hunting and chasing that day; and, returning at the time of the noon heat, was oppressed thereby and thirsted; so he looked for water from afar and seeing a naked man standing on the mound said to Ja’afar, “Seest thou what I see?” Replied the Wazir, “Yes, O Commander of the Faithful; I see a man standing on a hillock.” Al–Rashid asked, “What is he?”; and Ja’afar answered, “Haply he is the guardian of a cucumber-plot.” Quoth the Caliph, “Perhaps he is a pious man17; I would fain go to him, alone, and desire of him his prayers; and abide ye where you are.” So he went up to Khalif and saluting him with the salam said to him, “What art thou, O man?” Replied the fisherman, “Dost thou not know me? I am Khalif the Fisherman;” and the Caliph rejoined, “What? The Fisherman with the woollen gown and the honey-coloured turband18?” When Khalif heard him name the clothes he had lost, he said in himself, “This is he who took my duds: belike he did but jest with me.” So he came down from the knoll and said, “Can I not take a noontide nap19 but thou must trick me this trick? I saw thee take my gear and knew that thou wast joking with me.” At this, laughter got the better of the Caliph and he said; “What clothes hast thou lost? I know nothing of that whereof thou speakest, O Khalif.” Cried the Fisherman, “By God the Great, except thou bring me back the gear, I will smash thy ribs with this staff!” (For he always carried a quarterstaff.) Quoth the Caliph, “By Allah, I have not seen the things whereof thou speakest!”; and quoth Khalif “I will go with thee and take note of thy dwelling-place and complain of thee to the Chief of Police, so thou mayst not trick me this trick again. By Allah, none took my gown and turband but thou, and except thou give them back to me at once, I will throw thee off the back of that she-ass thou ridest and come down on thy pate with this quarterstaff, till thou canst not stir!” Thereupon he tugged at the bridle of the mule so that she reared up on her hind legs and the Caliph said to himself, “What calamity is this I have fallen into with this madman?” Then he pulled off a gown he had on, worth an hundred dinars, and said to Khalif, “Take this gown in lieu of thine own.” He took it and donning it saw it was too long; so he cut it short at the knees and turbanded his head with the cut-off piece; then said to the Caliph, “What art thou and what is thy craft? But why ask? Thou art none other than a trumpeter.” Al–Rashid asked, “What showed thee that I was a trumpeter by trade?”; and Khalif answered, “Thy big nostrils and little mouth.” Cried the Caliph, “Well guessed! Yes, I am of that craft.” Then said Khalif, “An thou wilt hearken to me, I will teach thee the art of fishing: ’twill be better for thee than trumpeting and thou wilt eat lawfully20.” Replied the Caliph, “Teach it me so that I may see whether I am capable of learning it.” And Khalif said, “Come with me, O trumpeter.” So the Caliph followed him down to the river and took the net from him, whilst he taught him how to throw it. Then he cast it and drew it up, when, behold, it was heavy, and the fisherman said, “O trumpeter, an the net be caught on one of the rocks, drag it not too hard, or I twill break and by Allah, I will take thy she-ass in payment thereof!” The Caliph laughed at his words and drew up the net, little by little, till he brought it ashore and found it full of fish; which when Khalif saw, his reason fled for joy and presently he cried, “By Allah, O trumpeter, thy luck is good in fishing! Never in my life will I part with thee! But now I mean to send thee to the fish-bazar, where do thou enquire for the shop of Humayd the fisherman and say to him, ‘My master Khalif saluteth thee and biddeth thee send him a pair of frails and a knife, so he may bring thee more fish than yesterday.’ Run and return to me forthright!” The Caliph replied (and indeed he was laughing), “On my head, O master!” and, mounting his mule, rode back to Ja’afar, who said to. him, “Tell me what hath betided thee.” So the Caliph told him all that had passed between Khalif the Fisherman and himself, from first to last, adding, “I left him awaiting my return to him with the baskets and I am resolved that he shall teach me how to scale fish and clean them.” Quoth Ja’afar, “And I will go with thee to sweep up the scales and clean out the shop.” And the affair abode thus, till presently the Caliph cried, “O Ja’afar, I desire of thee that thou despatch the young Mamelukes, saying to them, ‘Whoso bringeth me a fish from before yonder fisherman, I will give him a dinar;’ for I love to eat of my own fishing.” Accordingly Ja’afar repeated to the young white slaves what the Caliph had said and directed them where to find the man. They came down upon Khalif and snatched the fish from him; and when he saw them and noted their goodliness, he doubted not but that they were of the black-eyed Houris of Paradise: so he caught up a couple of fish and ran into the river, saying, “O Allah mine, by the secret virtue of these fish, forgive me!” Suddenly, up came the chief eunuch, questing fish, but he found none; so seeing Khalif ducking and rising in the water, with the two fish in his hands, called out to him, saying, “O Khalif, what hast thou there?” Replied the fisherman, “Two fish,” and the eunuch said, “Give them to me and take an hundred dinars for them.” Now when Khalif heard speak of an hundred dinars, he came up out of the water and cried, “Hand over the hundred dinars.” Said the eunuch, “Follow me to the house of Al–Rashid and receive thy gold, O Khalif; and, taking the fish, made off to the Palace of the Caliphate. Meanwhile Khalif betook himself to Baghdad, clad as he was in the Caliph’s gown, which reached only to above his knees,21 turbanded with the piece he had cut off therefrom and girt about his middle with a rope, and he pushed through the centre of the city. The folk fell a-laughing and marvelling at him and saying, “Whence hadst thou that robe of honour?” But he went on, asking, “Where is the house of Al–Rashád22?;” and they answered, “Say, ‘The house of Al–Rashíd’;” and he rejoined, “’Tis all the same,” and fared on, till he came to the Palace of the Caliphate. Now he was seen by the tailor, who had made the gown and who was standing at the door, and when he noticed it upon the Fisherman, he said to him, “For how many years hast thou had admission to the palace?” Khalif replied “Ever since I was a little one;” and the tailor asked, “Whence hadest thou that gown thou hast spoilt on this wise?” Khalif answered, “I had it of my apprentice the trumpeter.” Then he went up to the door, where he found the Chief Eunuch sitting with the two fishes by his side: and seeing him sable-black of hue, said to him, “Wilt thou not bring the hundred dinars, O uncle Tulip?” Quoth he, “On my head, O Khalif,” when, behold, out came Ja’afar from the presence of the Caliph and seeing the fisherman talking with the Eunuch and saying to him, “This is the reward of goodness, O nuncle Tulip,” went in to Al–Rashid and said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, thy master the Fisherman is with the Chief Eunuch, dunning him for an hundred dinars.” Cried the Caliph, “Bring him to me, O Ja’afar;” and the Minister answered, “Hearing and obeying.” So he went out to the Fisherman and said to him, “O Khalif, thine apprentice the trumpeter biddeth thee to him;” then he walked on, followed by the other till they reached the presence-chamber, where he saw the Caliph seated, with a canopy over his head. When he entered, Al–Rashid wrote three scrolls and set them before him, and the Fisherman said to him, “So thou hast given up trumpeting and turned astrologer!” Quoth the Caliph to him, “Take thee a scroll.” Now in the first he had written, “Let him be given a gold piece,” in the second, “An hundred dinars,” and in the third, “Let him be given an hundred blows with a whip.” So Khalif put out his hand and by the decree of the Predestinator, it lighted on the scroll wherein was written, “Let him receive an hundred lashes,” and Kings, whenas they ordain aught, go not back therefrom. So they threw him prone on the ground and beat him an hundred blows, whilst he wept and roared for succour, but none succoured him, and said, “By Allah, this is a good joke O trumpeter! I teach thee fishing and thou turnest astrologer and drawest me an unlucky lot. Fie upon thee,23 in thee is naught of good!” When the Caliph heard his speech, he fell fainting in a fit of laughter and said, “O Khalif, no harm shall betide thee: fear not. Give him an hundred gold pieces.” So they gave him an hundred dinars, and he went out, and ceased not faring forth till he came to the trunk-market, where he found the folk assembled in a ring about a broker, who was crying out and saying, “At an hundred dinars, less one dinar! A locked chest!” So he pressed on and pushed through the crowd and said to the broker, “Mine for an hundred dinars!” The broker closed with him and took his money, whereupon there was left him nor little nor much. The porters disputed awhile about who should carry the chest and presently all said, “By Allah, none shall carry this chest but Zurayk!”24 And the folk said, “Blue-eyes hath the best right to it.” So Zurayk shouldered the chest, after the goodliest fashion, and walked a-rear of Khalif. As they went along, the Fisherman said in himself, “I have nothing left to give the porter; how shall I rid myself of him? Now I will traverse the main streets with him and lead him about, till he be weary and set it down and leave it, when I will take it up and carry it to my lodging.” Accordingly, he went round about the city with the porter from noontide to sundown, till the man began to grumble and said, “O my lord, where is thy house?” Quoth Khalif, “Yesterday I knew it, but to-day I have forgotten it.” And the porter said, “Give me my hire and take thy chest.” But Khalif said, “Go on at thy leisure, till I bethink me where my house is,” presently adding, “O Zurayk, I have no money with me. ’Tis all in my house and I have forgotten where it is.” As they were talking, there passed by them one who knew the Fisherman and said to him, “O Khalif, what bringeth thee hither?” Quoth the porter, “O uncle, where is Khalif’s house?” and quoth he, “’Tis in the ruined Khan in the Rawásín Quarter.”25 Then said Zurayk to Khalif, “Go to; would Heaven thou hadst never lived nor been!” And the Fisherman trudged on, followed by the porter, till they came to the place when the Hammal said, “O thou whose daily bread Allah cut off in this world, have we not passed this place a score of times? Hadst thou said to me, ’Tis in such a stead, thou hadst spared me this great toil; but now give me my wage and let me wend my way.” Khalif replied “Thou shalt have silver, if not gold. Stay here, till I bring thee the same.” So he entered his lodging and taking a mallet he had there, studded with forty nails (wherewith an he smote a camel, he had made an end of it), rushed upon the porter and raised his forearm to strike him therewith; but Zurayk cried out at him, saying, “Hold thy hand! I have no claim on thee,” and fled. Now having got rid of the Hammal, Khalif carried the chest into the Khan, whereupon the neighbours came down and flocked about him, saying, “O Khalif, whence hadst thou this robe and this chest?” Quoth he, “From my apprentice Al–Rashid who gave them to me,” and they said, “The pimp is mad! Al–Rashid will assuredly hear of his talk and hang him over the door of his lodging and hang all in the Khan on account of the droll. This is a fine farce!” Then they helped him to carry the chest into his lodging and it filled the whole closet.26 Thus far concerning Khalif; but as for the history of the chest, it was as follows: The Caliph had a Turkish slave-girl, by name Kut al-Kulúb, whom he loved with love exceeding and the Lady Zubaydah came to know of this from himself and was passing jealous of her and secretly plotted mischief against her. So, whilst the Commander of the Faithful was absent a-sporting and a-hunting, she sent for Kut al-Kulub and, inviting her to a banquet, set before her meat and wine, and she ate and drank. Now the wine was drugged with Bhang; so she slept and Zubaydah sent for her Chief Eunuch and putting her in a great chest, locked it and gave it to him, saying, “Take this chest and cast it into the river.” Thereupon he took it up before him on a he-mule and set out with it for the sea, but found it unfit to carry; so, as he passed by the trunk-market, he saw the Shaykh of the brokers and salesmen and said to him, “Wilt thou sell me this chest, O uncle?” The broker replied, “Yes, we will do this much.” “But,” said the Eunuch, “look thou sell it not except locked;” and the other, “’Tis well; we will do that also.”27 So he set down the chest, and they cried it for sale, saying, “Who will buy this chest for an hundred dinars?”; and behold, up came Khalif the Fisherman and bought the chest after turning it over right and left; and there passed between him and the porter that which hath been before set out. Now as regards Khalif the Fisherman; he lay down on the chest to sleep, and presently Kut al-Kulub awoke from her Bhang and finding herself in the chest, cried out and said, “Alas!” Whereupon Khalif sprang off the chest-lid and cried out and said, “Ho, Moslems! Come to my help! There are Ifrits in the chest.” So the neighbours awoke from sleep and said to him, “What mattereth thee, O madman?” Quoth he, “The chest is full of Ifrits;” and quoth they, “Go to sleep; thou hast troubled our rest this night may Allah not bless thee! Go in and sleep, without madness.” He ejaculated, “I cannot sleep;” but they abused him and he went in and lay down once more. And behold, Kut al-Kulub spoke and said, “Where am I?” Upon which Khalif fled forth the closet and said, “O neighbours of the hostelry, come to my aid!” Quoth they, “What hath befallen thee? Thou troublest the neighbours’ rest.” “O folk, there be Ifrits in the chest, moving and speaking.” “Thou liest: what do they say?” “They say, ‘Where am I?’” “Would Heaven thou wert in Hell! Thou disturbest the neighbours and hinderest them of sleep. Go to sleep, would thou hadst never lived nor been!” So Khalif went in fearful because he had no place wherein to sleep save upon the chest-lid when lo! as he stood, with ears listening for speech, Kut al-Kulub spake again and said, “I’m hungry.” So in sore affright he fled forth and cried out, “Ho neighbours! ho dwellers in the Khan, come aid me!” Said they, “What is thy calamity now?”28 And he answered, “The Ifrits in the chest say, ‘We are hungry.’” Quoth the neighbours one to other, “‘Twould seem Khalif is hungry; let us feed him and give him the supper-orts; else he will not let us sleep to-night.” So they brought him bread and meat and broken victuals and radishes and gave him a basket full of all kinds of things, saying, “Eat till thou be full and go to sleep and talk not, else will we break thy ribs and beat thee to death this very night.” So he took the basket with the provaunt and entered his lodging. Now it was a moonlight night and the moon shone in full sheen upon the chest and lit up the closet with its light, seeing this he sat down on his purchase and fell to eating of the food with both hands. Presently Kut al-Kulub spake again and said, “Open to me and have mercy upon me, O Moslems!” So Khalif arose and taking a stone he had by him, broke the chest open and behold, therein lay a young lady as she were the sun’s shining light with brow flower-white, face moonbright, cheeks of rose-hue exquisite and speech sweeter than sugar-bite, and in dress worth a thousand dinars and more bedight. Seeing this his wits flew from his head for joy and he said, “By Allah, thou art of the fair!” She asked him, “What art thou, O fellow?” and he answered, “O my lady, I am Khalif the Fisherman.” Quoth she, “Who brought me hither?”; and quoth he, “I bought thee, and thou art my slave-girl.” Thereupon said she, “I see on thee a robe of the raiment of the Caliph.” So he told her all that had betided him, from first to last, and how he had bought the chest; wherefore she knew that the Lady Zubaydah had played her false; and she ceased not talking with him till the morning, when she said to him, “O Khalif, seek me from some one inkcase and reed-pen and paper and bring them to me.” So he found with one of the neighbours what she sought and brought it to her, whereupon she wrote a letter and folded it and gave it to him, saying, “O Khalif, take this paper and carry it to the jewel-market, where do thou enquire for the shop of Abu al-Hasan the jeweller and give it to him.” Answered the Fisherman, “O my lady, this name is difficult to me; I cannot remember it.” And she rejoined, “Then ask for the shop of Ibn al-‘Ukáb.”29 Quoth he, “O my lady, what is an ‘Ukab?”; and quoth she, “’Tis a bird which folk carry on fist with eyes hooded.” And he exclaimed, “O my lady, I know it.” Then he went forth from her and fared on, repeating the name, lest it fade from his memory; but, by the time he reached the jewel-market, he had forgotten it. So he accosted one of the merchants and said to him, “Is there any here named after a bird?” Replied the merchant, “Yes, thou meanest Ibn al-Ukab.” Khalif cried, “That’s the man I want,” and making his way to him, gave him the letter, which when he read and knew the purport thereof, he fell to kissing it and laying it on his head; for it is said that Abu al-Hasan was the agent of the Lady Kut al-Kulub and her intendant over all her property in lands and houses. Now she had written to him, saying, “From Her Highness the Lady Kut al-Kulub to Sir Abu al-Hasan the jeweller. The instant this letter reacheth thee, set apart for us a saloon completely equipped with furniture and vessels and negro-slaves and slave-girls and what not else is needful for our residence and seemly, and take the bearer of the missive and carry him to the bath. Then clothe him in costly apparel and do with him thus and thus.” So he said “Hearing and obeying,” and locking up his shop, took the Fisherman and bore him to the bath, where he committed him to one of the bathmen, that he might serve him, according to custom. Then he went forth to carry out the Lady Kut al-Kulub’s orders. As for Khalif, he concluded, of his lack of wit and stupidity, that the bath was a prison and said to the bathman, “What crime have I committed that ye should lay me in limbo?” They laughed at him and made him sit on the side of the tank, whilst the bathman took hold of his legs, that he might shampoo them. Khalif thought he meant to wrestle with him and said to himself, “This is a wrestling-place30 and I knew naught of it.” Then he arose and seizing the bathman’s legs, lifted him up and threw him on the ground and broke his ribs. The man cried out for help, whereupon the other bathmen came in a crowd and fell upon Khalif and overcoming him by dint of numbers, delivered their comrade from his clutches and tunded him till he came to himself. Then they knew that the Fisherman was a simpleton and served him till Abu al-Hasan came back with a dress of rich stuff and clad him therein; after which he brought him a handsome she-mule, ready saddled, and taking him by the hand, carried him forth of the bath and said to him, “Mount.” Quoth he, “How shall I mount? I fear lest she throw me and break my ribs into my belly.” Nor would he back the mule, save after much travail and trouble, and they stinted not faring on, till they came to the place which Abu al-Hasan had set apart for the Lady Kut al-Kulub. Thereupon Khalif entered and found her sitting, with slaves and eunuchs about her and the porter at the door, staff in hand, who when he saw the Fisherman sprang up and kissing his hand, went before him, till he brought him within the saloon. Here the Fisherman saw what amazed his wit, and his eye was dazzled by that which he beheld of riches past count and slaves and servants, who kissed his hand and said, “May the bath be a blessing to thee!”31 When he entered the saloon and drew near unto Kut al-Kulub, she sprang up to him and taking him by the hand, seated him on a high-mattrassed divan. Then she brought him a vase of sherbet of sugar, mingled with rosewater and willow-water, and he took it and drank it off and left not a single drop. Moreover, he ran his finger round the inside of the vessel32 and would have licked it, but she forbade him, saying, “That is foul.” Quoth he, “Silence; this is naught but good honey;” and she laughed at him and set before him a tray of meats, whereof he ate his sufficiency. Then they brought an ewer and basin of gold, and he washed his right hand and abode in the gladdest of life and the most honourable. Now hear what befel the Commander of the Faithful. When he came back from his journey and found not Kut al-Kulub, he questioned the Lady Zubaydah of her and she said, “She is verily dead, may thy head live, O Prince of True Believers!” But she had bidden dig a grave amiddlemost the Palace and had built over it a mock tomb, for her knowledge of the love the Caliph bore to Kut al-Kulub: so she said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, I made her a tomb amiddlemost the Palace and buried her there.” Then she donned black,33 a mere sham and pure pretence; and feigned mourning a great while. Now Kut al-Kulub knew that the Caliph was come back from his hunting excursion; so she turned to Khalif and said to him, “Arise; hie thee to the bath and come back.” So he rose and went to the Hammam-bath, and when he returned, she clad him in a dress worth a thousand dinars and taught him manners and respectful bearing to superiors. Then said she to him, “Go hence to the Caliph and say to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, ’tis my desire that this night thou deign be my guest.’” So Khalif arose and mounting his she-mule, rode, with pages and black slaves before him, till he came to the Palace of the Caliphate. Quoth the wise, “Dress up a stick and ’twill look chique.”34 And indeed his comeliness was manifest and his goodliness and the folk marvelled at this. Presently, the Chief Eunuch saw him, the same who had given him the hundred dinars that had been the cause of his good fortune; so he went in to the Caliph and said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, Khalif the Fisherman is become a King, and on him is a robe of honour worth a thousand dinars.” The Prince of True Believers bade admit him; so he entered and said, “Peace be with thee, O Commander of the Faithful and Vice-regent of the Lord of the three Worlds and Defender of the folk of the Faith! Allah Almighty prolong thy days and honour thy dominion and exalt thy degree to the highmost height!” The Caliph looked at him and marvelled at him and how fortune had come to him at unawares; then he said to him, “O Khalif, whence hadst thou that robe which is upon thee?” He replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, it cometh from my house.” Quoth the Caliph, “Hast thou then a house?”; and quoth Khalif, “Yea, verily! and thou, O Commander of the Faithful, art my guest this day.” Al–Rashid said, “I alone, O Khalif, or I and those who are with me?”; and he replied, “Thou and whom thou wilt.” So Ja’afar turned to him and said, “We will be thy guests this night;” whereupon he kissed ground again and withdrawing, mounted his mule and rode off, attended by his servants and suite of Mamelukes leaving the Caliph marvelling at this and saying to Ja’afar, “Sawest thou Khalif, with his mule and dress, his white slaves and his dignity? But yesterday I knew him for a buffoon and a jester.” And they marvelled at this much. Then they mounted and rode, till they drew near Khalif’s house, when the Fisherman alighted and, taking a bundle from one of his attendants, opened it and pulled out therefrom a piece of tabby silk35 and spread it under the hoofs of the Caliph’s she-mule; then he brought out a piece of velvet-Kimcob36 and a third of fine satin and did with them likewise; and thus he spread well nigh twenty pieces of rich stuffs, till Al–Rashid and his suite had reached the house; when he came forward and said, “Bismillah,37 O Commander of the Faithful!” Quoth Al–Rashid to Ja’afar, “I wonder to whom this house may belong,” and quoth he, “It belongeth to a man hight Ibn al-Ukab, Syndic of the jewellers.” So the Caliph dismounted and entering, with his courtiers, saw a high-builded saloon, spacious and boon, with couches on daïs and carpets and divans strown in place. So he went up to the couch that was set for himself on four legs of ivory, plated with glittering gold and covered with seven carpets. This pleased him and behold, up came Khalif, with eunuchs and little white slaves, bearing all manner sherbets, compounded with sugar and lemon and perfumed with rose and willow-water and the purest musk. The Fisherman advanced and drank and gave the Caliph to drink, and the cup-bearers came forward and served the rest of the company with the sherbets. Then Khalif brought a table spread with meats of various colours and geese and fowls and other birds, saying, “In the name of Allah!” So they ate their fill; after which he bade remove the tables and kissing the ground three times before the Caliph craved his royal leave to bring wine and music.38 He granted him permission for this and turning to Ja’afar, said to him, “As my head liveth, the house and that which is therein is Khalif’s; for that he is ruler over it and I am in admiration at him, whence there came to him this passing prosperity and exceeding felicity! However, this is no great matter to Him who saith to a thing, ‘Be!’ and it becometh; what I most wonder at is his understanding, how it hath increased, and whence he hath gotten this loftiness and this lordliness; but, when Allah willeth weal unto a man, He amendeth his intelligence before bringing him to worldly affluence.” As they were talking, behold, up came Khalif, followed by cup-bearer lads like moons, belted with zones of gold, who spread a cloth of siglaton39 and set thereon flagons of chinaware and tall flasks of glass and cups of crystal and bottles and hanaps40 of all colours; and those flagons they filled with pure clear and old wine, whose scent was as the fragrance of virgin musk and it was even as saith the poet,
“Ply me and also my mate be plied
With pure wine prest in the olden tide.41
Daughter of nobles42 they lead her forth 43
In raiment of goblets beautified.
They belt her round with the brightest gems,
And pearls and unions, the Ocean’s pride;
So I by these signs and signets know
Wherefore the Wine is entitled ‘Bride.’44”
And round about these vessels were confections and flowers, such as may not be surpassed. When Al–Rashid saw this from Khalif, he inclined to him and smiled upon him and invested him with an office; so Khalif wished him continuance of honour and endurance of days and said, “Will the Commander of the Faithful deign give me leave to bring him a singer, a lute-player her like was never heard among mortals ever?” Quoth the Caliph, “Thou art permitted!” So he kissed ground before him and going to a secret closet, called Kut al-Kulub, who came after she had disguised and falsed and veiled herself, tripping in her robes and trinkets; and she kissed ground before the Commander of the Faithful. Then she sat down and tuning the lute, touched its strings and played upon it, till all present were like to faint for excess of delight; after which she improvised these verses,
“Would Heaven I wot, will ever Time bring our beloveds back again?
And, ah! will Union and its bliss to bless two lovers deign?
Will Time assure to us united days and joinèd joy,
While from the storms and stowres of life in safety we remain?
Then O Who bade this pleasure be, our parting past and gone,
And made one house our meeting-stead throughout the Nights contain;
By him, draw near me, love, and closest cling to side of me
Else were my wearied wasted life, a vanity, a bane.”
When the Caliph heard this, he could not master himself, but rent his raiment and fell down a-swoon; whereupon all who were present hastened to doff their dress and throw it over him, whilst Kut al-Kulub signed to Khalif and said to him, “Hie to yonder chest and bring us what is therein;” for she had made ready therein a suit of the Caliph’s wear against the like of such hour as this. So Khalif brought it to her and she threw it over the Commander of the Faithful, who came to himself and knowing her for Kut al-Kulub, said, “Is this the Day of Resurrection and hath Allah quickened those who are in the tombs; or am I asleep and is this an imbroglio of dreams?” Quoth Kut al-Kulub, “We are on wake, not on sleep, and I am alive, nor have I drained the cup of death.” Then she told him all that had befallen her, and indeed, since he lost her, life had not been light to him nor had sleep been sweet, and he abode now wondering, then weeping and anon afire for longing. When she had made an end of her story, the Caliph rose and took her by the hand, intending for her palace, after he had kissed her inner lips, and had strained her to his bosom; whereupon Khalif rose and said, “By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful! Thou hast already wronged me once, and now thou wrongest me again.” Quoth Al–Rashid, “Indeed thou speakest sooth, O Khalif,” and bade the Wazir Ja’afar give him what should satisfy him. So he straightway gifted him with all for which he wished and assigned him a village, the yearly revenues whereof were twenty thousand dinars. Moreover Kut al-Kulub generously presented him the house and all that was therein of furniture and hangings and white slaves and slave-girls and eunuchs great and small. So Khalif became possessed of this passing affluence and exceeding wealth and took him a wife, and prosperity taught him gravity and dignity, and good fortune overwhelmed him. The Caliph enrolled him among his equerries and he abode in all solace of life and its delights till he deceased and was admitted to the mercy of Allah. Furthermore they relate a tale anent45
1 Arab. “Hásilah” prob. a corner of a “Godown” in some Khan or Caravanserai.
2 Arab. “Funduk” from the Gr., whence the Italian Fondaco e.g. at Venice the Fondaco de’ Turchi.
3 Arab. “Astár” plur. of Satr: in the Mac. Edit. Sátúr, both (says Dozy) meaning “Couperet” (a hatchet). Habicht translates it “a measure for small fish,” which seems to be a shot and a bad shot as the text talks only of means of carrying fish. Nor can we accept Dozy’s emendation Astál (plur. of Satl) pails, situlæ. In Petermann’s Reisen (i. 89) Satr=assiette.
4 Which made him expect a heavy haul.
5 Arab. “Urkúb” = tendon Achilles in man hough or pastern in beast, etc. It is held to be an incrementative form of ‘Akab (heel); as Kur’úb of Ka’b (heel) and Khurtúm of Khatm (snout).
6 Arab. “Karmút” and “Zakzúk.” The former (pronounced Garmút) is one of the many Siluri (S. Carmoth Niloticus) very common and resembling the Shál. It is smooth and scaleless with fleshy lips and soft meat and as it haunts muddy bottoms it was forbidden to the Ancient Egyptians. The Zakzúk is the young of the Shál (Synodontis Schal: Seetzen); its plural form Zakázik (pronounced Zigázig) gave a name to the flourishing town which has succeeded to old Bubastis and of which I have treated in “Midian” and “Midian Revisited.”
7 “Yá A’awar”=O one-eye! i.e.. the virile member. So the vulgar insult “Ya ibn al-aur” (as the vulgar pronounce it) “O son of a yard!” When AlMas’údi writes (Fr. Trans. vii. 106), “Udkhul usbu’ak fí aynih,” it must not be rendered “Il faut lui faire violence”: thrust thy finger into his eye (‘Ayn) means “put thy penis up his fundament!” (‘Ayn being=Dubur). The French remarks, “On en trouverait l’équivalent dans les bas-fonds de notre langue,” So in English “pig’s eye,” “blind eye,” etc.
8 Arab. “Nabbút”=a quarterstaff: see vol. i. 234.
9 Arab. “Banní,” vulg. Benni and in Lane (Lex. Bunni) the Cyprinus Bynni (Forsk.), a fish somewhat larger than a barbel with lustrous silvery scales and delicate flesh, which Sonnini believes may be the “Lepidotes” (smooth-scaled) mentioned by Athenæus. I may note that the Bresl. Edit. (iv. 332) also affects the Egyptian vulgarism “Farkh–Banni” of the Mac. Edit. (Night dcccxxxii.).
10 The story-teller forgets that Khalif had neither basket nor knife.
11 Arab. “Rayhán” which may here mean any scented herb.
12 In the text “Fard Kalmah,” a vulgarism. The Mac. Edit. (Night dcccxxxv.) more aptly says, “Two words” (Kalmatáni, vulg. Kalmatayn) the Twofold Testimonies to the Unity of Allah and the Mission of His Messenger.
13 The lowest Cairene chaff which has no respect for itself or others.
14 Arab. “Karrat azlá hú”: alluding to the cool skin of healthy men when digesting a very hearty meal.
15 This is the true Fellah idea. A peasant will go up to his proprietor with the “rint” in gold pieces behind his teeth and undergo an immense amount of flogging before he spits them out. Then he will return to his wife and boast of the number of sticks he has eaten instead of paying at once and his spouse will say, “Verily thou art a man.” Europeans know nothing of the Fellah. Napoleon Buonaparte, for political reasons, affected great pity for him and horror of his oppressors, the Beys and Pashas; and this affectation gradually became public opinion. The Fellah must either tyrannise or be tyrannised over; he is never happier than under a strong-handed despotism and he has never been more miserable than under British rule, or rather, misrule. Our attempts to constitutionalise him have made us the laughing-stock of Europe.
16 The turban is a common substitute for a purse with the lower classes of Egyptians; and an allusion to the still popular practice of turban-snatching will be found in vol. i. p. 259.
17 Arab. “Sálih,” a devotee; here, a naked Dervish.
18 Here Khalif is made a conspicuous figure in Baghdad like Boccaccio’s Calandrino and Co. He approaches in type the old Irishman now extinct, destroyed by the reflux action Of Anglo–America (U.S.) upon the miscalled “Emerald Isle.” He blunders into doing and saying funny things whose models are the Hibernian “bulls” and acts purely upon the impulse of the moment, never reflecting till (possibly) after all is over.
19 Arab. “Kaylúlah,” explained in vol. i. 51.
20 i.e. thy bread lawfully gained. The “Bawwák” (trumpeter) like the “Zammár” (piper of the Mac. Edit.) are discreditable craftsmen, associating with Almahs and loose women and often serving as their panders.
21 i.e. he was indecently clad. Man’s “shame” extends from navel to knees. See vol vi. 30.
22 Rashid would be=garden-cresses or stones: Rashíd the heaven-directed.
23 Arab. “Uff ‘alayka”=fie upon thee! Uff=lit. Sordes Aurium and Tuff (a similar term of disgust)=Sordes unguinum. To the English reader the blows administered to Khalif appear rather hard measure. But a Fellah’s back is thoroughly broken to the treatment and he would take ten times as much punishment for a few piastres.
24 Arab. “Zurayk” dim. of Azrak=blue-eyed. See vol. iii. 104.
25 Of Baghdad.
26 Arab. “Hásil,” i.e. cell in a Khan for storing goods: elsewhere it is called a Makhzan (magazine) with the same sense.
27 The Bresl. text (iv. 347) abbreviates, or rather omits; so that in translation details must be supplied to make sense.
28 Arab. “Kamán,” vulgar Egyptian, a contraction from Kama’ (as) + anna (since, because). So “ Kamán shuwayh”=wait a bit; “ Kamán marrah”=once more and “Wa Karmána-ka”=that is why.
29 i.e. Son of the Eagle: See vol. iv. 177. Here, however, as the text shows it is hawk or falcon. The name is purely fanciful and made mnemonically singular.
30 The Egyptian Fellah knows nothing of boxing like the Hausá man; but he is fond of wrestling after a rude and uncultivated fashion, which would cause shouts of laughter in Cumberland and Cornwall. And there are champions in this line, See vol. iii. 93.
31 The usual formula. See vol. ii. 5.
32 As the Fellah still does after drinking a cuplet (“fingán” he calls it) of sugared coffee.
33 He should have said “white,” the mourning colour under the Abbasides.
34 Anglicè, “Fine feathers make fine birds”; and in Eastern parlance, “Clothe the reed and it will become a bride.” (Labbis al-Búsah tabkí ‘Arúsah, Spitta Bey, No. 275.) I must allow myself a few words of regret for the loss of this Savant, one of the most singleminded men known to me. He was vilely treated by the Egyptian Government, under the rule of the Jew–Moslem Riyáz; and, his health not allowing him to live in Austria, he died shortly after return home.
35 Arab. “ Saub (Tobe) ‘Atábi”: see vol. iii. 149.
36 In text “Kimkhá,” which Dozy also gives Kumkh=chenille, tissu de soie veloutee: Damasquète de soie or et argent de Venise, du Levant, à fleurs, etc. It comes from Kamkháb or Kimkháb, a cloth of gold, the well-known Indian “Kimcob.”
37 Here meaning=Enter in Allah’s name!
38 The Arabs have a saying, “Wine breeds gladness, music merriment and their offspring is joy.”
39 Arab. “Jokh al-Saklát,” rich kind of brocade on broadcloth.
40 Arab. “Hanabát,” which Dozy derives from O. German Hnapf, Hnap now Napf: thence too the Lat. Hanapus and Hanaperium: Ital. Anappo, Nappo; Provenc. Enap and French and English “Hanap”= rich bowl, basket, bag. But this is known even to the dictionaries.
41 Arab. “ Kirám,” nobles, and “ Kurúm,” vines, a word which appears in Carmel=Karam–El (God’s vineyard).
42 Arab. “Suláf al-Khandarísí,” a contradiction. Suláf=the ptisane of wine. Khandarísí, from Greek {Greek text}, lit. gruel, applies to old wine.
43 i.e. in bridal procession.
44 Arab. “Al-‘Arús, one of the innumerable tropical names given to wine by the Arabs. Mr. Payne refers to Grangeret de la Grange, Anthologie Arabe, p, 190.
45 Here the text of the Mac. Edition is resumed.
There was once in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before a man and a merchant Masrúr hight, who was of the comeliest of the folk of his tide, a wight of wealth galore and in easiest case; but he loved to take his pleasure in vergiers and flower-gardens and to divert himself with the love of the fair. Now it fortuned one night, as he lay asleep, he dreamt that he was in a garth of the loveliest, wherein were four birds, and amongst them a dove, white as polished silver. That dove pleased him and for her grew up in his heart an exceeding love. Presently, he beheld a great bird swoop down on him and snatch the dove from his hand, and this was grievous to him. After which he awoke and not finding the bird strave with his yearnings till morning, when he said in himself, “There is no help but that I go to-day to some one who will expound to me this vision.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. “Adornment of (good) Qualities.” See the name punned on in Night dcccli. Lane omits this tale because it contains the illicit “Amours of a Christian and a Jewess who dupes her husband in various abominable ways.” The text has been taken from the Mac. and the Bresl. Edits. x. 72 etc. In many parts the former is a mere Epitome.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the merchant awoke, he strave with his yearnings till morning when he said to himself, “There is no help but that I go this day to some one who will expound to me this vision.” So he went forth and walked right and left, till he was far from his dwelling-place, but found none to interpret the dream to him. Then he would have returned, but on his way behold, the fancy took him to turn aside to the house of a certain trader, a man of the wealthiest, and when he drew near to it, suddenly he heard from within a plaintive voice from a sorrowful heart reciting these couplets,
“The breeze o’ Morn blows uswards from her trace
Fragrant, and heals the love-sick lover’s case.
I stand like captive on the mounds and ask
While tears make answer for the ruined place:
Quoth I, ‘By Allah, Breeze o’ Morning, say
Shall Time and Fortune aye this stead regrace?
Shall I enjoy a fawn whose form bewitched
And langourous eyelids wasted frame and face?’”
When Masrur heard this, he looked in through the doorway and saw a garden of the goodliest of gardens, and at its farther end a curtain of red brocade, purfled with pearls and gems, behind which sat four damsels, and amongst them a young lady over four feet and under five in height, as she were the rondure of the lune and the full moon shining boon: she had eyes Kohl’d with nature’s dye and joined eyebrows, a mouth as it were Solomon’s seal and lips and teeth bright with pearls and coral’s light; and indeed she ravished all wits with her beauty and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace. When Masrur espied her, he entered the porch and went on entering till he came to the curtain: whereupon she raised her head and glanced at him. So he saluted her and she returned his salam with sweetest speech; and, when he considered her more straitly, his reason was dazed and his heart amazed. Then he looked at the garden and saw that it was full of jessamine and gilly flowers and violets and roses and orange blossoms and all manner sweet-scented blooms and herbs. Every tree was girt about with fruits and there coursed down water from four daïses, which faced one another and occupied the four corners of the garden. He looked at the first Líwán and found written around it with vermilion these two couplets,
“Ho thou the House! Grief never home in thee;
Nor Time work treason on thine owner’s head:
All good betide the House which every guest
Harbours, when sore distrest for way and stead!”
Then he looked at the second daïs and found written thereon in red gold these couplets,
“Robe thee, O House, in richest raiment Time,
Long as the birdies on the branchlets chime!
And sweetest perfumes breathe within thy walls
And lover meet beloved in bliss sublime.
And dwell thy dwellers all in joy and pride
Long as the wandering stars Heaven-hill shall climb.”
Then he looked at the third, whereon he found written in ultramarine these two couplets,
“Ever thy pomp and pride, O House! display
While starkeneth Night and shineth sheeny Day!
Boon Fortune bless all entering thy walls,
And whomso dwell in thee, for ever and aye!”
Then he looked at the fourth and saw painted in yellow characters this couplet,
“This garden and this lake in truth
Are fair sitting-steads, by the Lord of Ruth!”
Moreover, in that garden were birds of all breeds, ring-dove and cushat and nightingale and culver, each singing his several song, and amongst them the lady, swaying gracefully to and fro in her beauty and grace and symmetry and loveliness and ravishing all who saw her. Presently quoth she to Masrur, “Hola man! what bringeth thee into a house other than thy house and wherefore comest thou in unto women other than thy women, without leave of their owner?” Quoth he, “O my lady, I saw this garden, and the goodliness of its greenery pleased me and the fragrance of its flowers and the carolling of its birds; so I entered, thinking to gaze on it awhile and wend my way.” Said she, “With love and gladness!”; and Masrur was amazed at the sweetness of her speech and the coquetry of her glances and the straightness of her shape, and transported by her beauty and seemlihead and the pleasantness of the garden and the birds. So in the disorder of his spirits he recited these couplets,
“As a crescent-moon in the garth her form
’Mid Basil and jasmine and Rose I scan;
And Violet faced by the Myrtle-spray
And Nu’umán’s bloom and Myrobalan:
By her perfume the Zephyrs perfumèd breathe
And with scented sighings the branches fan.
O Garden, thou perfect of beauty art
All charms comprising in perfect plan;
And melodious birdies sing madrigals
And the Full Moon1 shineth in branchshade wan;
Its ring-dove, its culver, its mocking-bird
And its Philomel sing my soul t’ unman;
And the longing of love all my wits confuseth
For her charms, as the man whom his wine bemuseth.”
Now when Zayn al-Mawásif heard his verse, she glanced at him with eyes which bequeathed a thousand sighs and utterly ravished his wisdom and wits and replied to him in these lines,
“Hope not of our favours to make thy prey
And of what thou wishest thy greed allay:
And cease thy longing; thou canst not win
The love of the Fair thou’rt fain t’ essay,
My glances to lovers are baleful and naught
I reek of thy speech: I have said my say!”
“Ho, thou! Begone about thy business, for we are none of the woman-tribe who are neither thine nor another’s.2” And he answered, “O my lady, I said nothing ill.” Quoth she, “Thou soughtest to divert thyself3 and thou hast had thy diversion; so wend thy ways.” Quoth he, “O my lady, belike thou wilt give me a draught of water, for I am athirst.” Whereupon she cried, “How canst thou drink of a Jew’s water, and thou a Nazarene?” But he replied, “O my lady, your water is not forbidden to us nor ours unlawful to you, for we are all as one creation.” So she said to her slave-girl, “Give him to drink;” and she did as she was bidden. Then she called for the table of food, and there came four damsels, high-bosomed maids, bearing four trays of meats and four gilt flagons full of strong old-wine, as it were the tears of a slave of love for clearness, and a table around whose edge were graven these couplets,
“For eaters a table they brought and set
In the banquet-hall and ’twas dight with gold:
Like th’ Eternal Garden that gathers all
Man wants of meat and wines manifold.”
And when the high-breasted maids had set all this before him, quoth she, “Thou soughtest to drink of our drink; so up and at our meat and drink!” He could hardly credit what his ears had heard and sat down at the table forthright; whereupon she bade her nurse4 give him a cup, that he might drink. Now her slave-girls were called, one Hubúb, another Khutúb and the third Sukúb,5 and she who gave him the cup was Hubub. So he took the cup and looking at the outside there saw written these couplets,
“Drain not the howl but with lovely wight
Who loves thee and wine makes brighter bright.
And ‘ware her Scorpions6 that o’er thee creep
And guard thy tongue lest thou vex her sprite.”
Then the cup went round and when he emptied it he looked inside and saw written,
“And ‘ware her Scorpions when pressing them,
And hide her secrets from foes’ despight.”
Whereupon Masrur laughed her-wards and she asked him, “What causeth thee to laugh?” “For the fulness of my joy,” quoth he. Presently, the breeze blew on her and the scarf7 fell from her head and discovered a fillet 8 of glittering gold, set with pearls and gems and jacinths; and on her breast was a necklace of all manner ring-jewels and precious stones, to the centre of which hung a sparrow of red gold, with feet of red coral and bill of white silver and body full of Nadd-powder and pure ambergris and odoriferous musk. And upon its back was engraved,
“The Nadd is my wine-scented powder, my bread;
And the bosom’s my bed and the breasts my stead:
And my neck-nape complains of the weight of love,
Of my pain, of my pine, of my drearihead.”
Then Masrur looked at the breast of her shift and behold, thereon lay wroughten in red gold this verse,
“The fragrance of musk from the breasts of the fair
Zephyr borrows, to sweeten the morning air.”
Masrur marvelled at this with exceeding wonder and was dazed by her charms and amazement gat hold upon him. Then said Zayn al-Mawásif to him, “Begone from us and go about thy business, lest the neighbours hear of us and even us with the lewd.” He replied, “By Allah, O my lady, suffer my sight to enjoy the view of thy beauty and loveliness.” With this she was wroth with him and leaving him, walked in the garden, and he looked at her shift-sleeve and saw upon it embroidered these lines,
“The weaver-wight wrote with gold-ore bright
And her wrists on brocade rained a brighter light:
Her palms are adorned with a silvern sheen;
And favour her fingers the ivory’s white:
For their tips are rounded like priceless pearl;
And her charms would enlighten the nightiest night.”
And, as she paced the garth, Masrur gazed at her slippers and saw written upon them these pleasant lines,
“The slippers that carry these fair young feet
Cause her form to bend in its gracious bloom:
When she paces and waves in the breeze she owns,
She shines fullest moon in the murkiest gloom.”
She was followed by her women leaving Hubub with Masrur by the curtain, upon whose edge were embroidered these couplets,
“Behind the veil a damsel sits with gracious beauty dight,
Praise to the Lord who decked her with these inner gifts of sprite!
Guards her the garden and the bird fain bears her company;
Gladden her wine-draughts and the bowl but makes her brighter-bright.
Apple and Cassia-blossom show their envy of her cheeks;
And borrows Pearl resplendency from her resplendent light;
As though the sperm that gendered her were drop of marguerite9
Happy who kisses her and spends in her embrace the night.”
So Masrur entered into a long discourse with Hubub and presently said to her, “O Hubub, hath thy mistress a husband or not?” She replied, “My lady hath a husband; but he is actually abroad on a journey with merchandise of his.” Now whenas he heard that her husband was abroad on a journey, his heart lusted after her and he said, “O Hubub, glorified be He who created this damsel and fashioned her! How sweet is her beauty and her loveliness and her symmetry and perfect grace! Verily, into my heart is fallen sore travail for her. O Hubub, so do that I come to enjoy her, and thou shalt have of me what thou wilt of wealth and what not else.” Replied Hubub, “O Nazarene, if she heard thee speak thus, she would slay thee, or else she would kill herself, for she is the daughter of a Zealot10 of the Jews nor is there her like amongst them: she hath no need of money and she keepeth herself ever cloistered, discovering not her case to any.” Quoth Masrur, “O Hubub, an thou wilt but bring me to enjoy her, I will be to thee slave and foot page and will serve thee all my life and give thee whatsoever thou seekest of me.” But quoth she, “O Masrur, in very sooth this woman hath no lust for money nor yet for men, because my lady Zayn al-Mawasif is of the cloistered, going not forth her house-door in fear lest folk see her; and but that she bore with thee by reason of thy strangerhood, she had not permitted thee to pass her threshold; no, not though thou wert her brother.” He replied, “O Hubub, be thou our go-between and thou shalt have of me an hundred gold dinars and a dress worth as much more, for that the love of her hath gotten hold of my heart.” Hearing this she said, “O man, let me go about with her in talk and I will return thee and answer and acquaint thee with what she saith. Indeed, she loveth those who berhyme her and she affecteth those who set forth her charms and beauty and loveliness in verse, and we may not prevail over her save by wiles and soft speech and beguilement.” Thereupon Hubub rose and going up to her mistress, accosted her with privy talk of this and that and presently said to her, “O my lady, look at yonder young man, the Nazarene; how sweet is his speech and how shapely his shape!” When Zayn al-Mawasif heard this, she turned to her and said, “An thou like his comeliness love him thyself. Art thou not ashamed to address the like of me with these words? Go, bid him begone about his business; or I will make it the worse for him.” So Hubub returned to Masrur, but acquainted him not with that which her mistress had said. Then the lady bade her hie to the door and look if she saw any of the folk, lest foul befal them. So she went and returning, said, “O my lady, without are folk in plenty and we cannot let him go forth this night.” Quoth Zayn al-Mawasif, “I am in dole because of a dream I have seen and am fearful therefrom.” And Masrur said, “What sawest thou? Allah never trouble thy heart!” She replied, “I was asleep in the middle of the night, when suddenly an eagle swooped down upon me from the highest of the clouds and would have carried me off from behind the curtain, wherefore I was affrighted at him. Then I awoke from sleep and bade my women bring me meat and drink, so haply, when I had drunken, the dolour of the dream would cease from me.” Hearing this, Masrur smiled and told her his dream from first to last and how he had caught the dove, whereat she marvelled with exceeding marvel. Then he went on to talk with her at great length and said, “I am now certified of the truth of my dream, for thou art the dove and I the eagle, and there is no hope but that this must be, for, the moment I set eyes on thee, thou tookest possession of my vitals and settest my heart a-fire for love of thee!” Thereupon Zayn al-Mawasif became wroth with exceeding wrath and said to him, “I take refuge with Allah from this! Allah upon thee, begone about thy business ere the neighbours espy thee and there betide us sore reproach,” adding, “Harkye, man! Let not thy soul covet that it shall not obtain. Thou weariest thyself in vain; for I am a merchant’s wife and a merchant’s daughter and thou art a druggist; and when sawest thou a druggist and a merchant’s daughter conjoined by such sentiment?” He replied, “O my lady, never lacked love-liesse between folk11; so cut thou not off from me hope of this and whatsoever thou seekest of me of money and raiment and ornaments and what not else, I will give thee.” Then he abode with her in discourse and mutual blaming whilst she still redoubled in anger, till it was black night, when he said to her, “O my lady, take this gold piece and fetch me a little wine, for I am athirst and heavy hearted.” So she said to the slave-girl Hubub, “Fetch him wine and take naught from him, for we have no need of his dinar.” So she went whilst Masrur held his peace and bespake not the lady, who suddenly improvised these lines,
“Leave this thy design and depart, O man!
Nor tread paths where lewdness and crime trepan!
Love is a net shall enmesh thy sprite,
Make thee rise a-morning sad, weary and wan:
For our spy thou shalt eke be the cause of talk;
And for thee shall blame me my tribe and clan:
Yet scant I marvel thou lovest a Fair:—
Gazelles hunting lions we aye shall scan!”
And he answered her with these,
“Joy of boughs, bright branch of Myrobalan!
Have ruth on the heart all thy charms unman:
Death-cup to the dregs thou garrest me drain
And don weed of Love with its bane and ban:
How can soothe I a heart which for stress of pine
Burns with living coals which my longings fan?”
Hearing these lines she exclaimed, “Away from me! Quoth the saw ‘Whoso looseth his sight wearieth his sprite.’ By Allah, I am tired of discourse with thee and chiding, and indeed thy soul coveteth that shall never become thine; nay, though thou gave me my weight in gold, thou shouldst not get thy wicked will of me; for, I know naught of the things of the world, save pleasant life, by the boon of Allah Almighty!” He answered, “O my lady Zayn al-Mawasif, ask of me what thou wilt of the goods of the world.” Quoth she, “What shall I ask of thee? For sure thou wilt fare forth and prate of me in the highway and I shall become a laughing-stock among the folk and they will make a byword of me in verse, me who am the daughter of the chief of the merchants and whose father is known of the notables of the tribe. I have no need of money or raiment and such love will not be hidden from the people and I shall be brought to shame, I and my kith and kin.” With this Masrur was confounded and could make her no answer; but presently she said, “Indeed, the master-thief, if he steal, stealeth not but what is worth his neck, and every woman who doth lewdness with other than her husband is styled a thief; so, if it must be thus and no help12, thou shalt give me whatsoever my heart desireth of money and raiment and ornaments and what not.” Quoth he, “An thou sought of me the world and all its regions contain from its East to its West, ’twere but a little thing, compared with thy favour;” and quoth she, “I will have of thee three suits, each worth a thousand Egyptian dinars, and adorned with gold and fairly purfled with pearls and jewels and jacinths, the best of their kind. Furthermore I require that thou swear to me thou wilt keep my secret nor discover it to any and that thou wilt company with none but me; and I in turn will swear to thee a true oath that I will never false thee in love.” So he sware to her the oath she required and she sware to him, and they agreed upon this; after which she said to her nurse Hubub, “To-morrow go thou with Masrur to his lodging and seek somewhat of musk and ambergris and Nadd and rose-water and see what he hath. If he be a man of condition, we will take him into favour; but an he be otherwise we will leave him.” Then said she to him, “O Masrur, I desire somewhat of musk and ambergris and aloes-wood and Nadd; so do thou send it me by Hubub;” and he answered, “With love and gladness; my shop is at thy disposal!” Then the wine went round between them and their séance was sweet: but Masrur’s heart was troubled for the passion and pining which possessed him; and when Zayn alMawasif saw him in this plight, she said to her slave-girl Sukub, “Arouse Masrur from his stupor; mayhap he will recover.” Answered Sukub, “Hearkening and obedience,” and sang these couplets,
“Bring gold and gear an a lover thou,
And hymn thy love so success shalt row;
Joy the smiling fawn with the black-edged eyne
And the bending lines of the Cassiabough:
On her look, and a marvel therein shalt sight,
And pour out thy life ere thy life-term show:
Love’s affect be this, an thou weet the same;
But, an gold deceive thee, leave gold and go!”
Hereupon Masrur understood her and said, “I hear and apprehend. Never was grief but after came relief, and after affliction dealing He will order the healing.” Then Zayn al-Mawasif recited these couplets,
“From Love-stupor awake, O Masrur, ’twere best;
For this day I dread my love rend thy breast;
And to-morrow I fear me folks’ marvel-tale
Shall make us a byword from East to West:
Leave love of my like or thou’lt gain thee blame;
Why turn thee us-wards? Such love’s unblest!
For one strange of lineage whose kin repel
Thou shalt wake ill-famed, of friends dispossest:
I’m a Zealot’s child and affright the folk:
Would my life were ended and I at rest!”
Then Masrur answered her improvisation and began to say these lines,
“To grief leave a heart that to love ne’er ceased;
Nor blame, for your blame ever love increased:
You misrule my vitals in tyrant-guise;
Morn and Eve I wend not or West or East;
Love’s law forbids me to do me die;
They say Love’s victim is ne’er released:
Well-away! Could I find in Love’s Court a judge
I’d ‘plain and win to my rights at least.”
They ceased not from mutual chiding till morning morrowed, when Zayn al-Mawasif said, “O Masrur ’tis time for thee to depart, lest one of the folk see thee and foul befal us twain.” So he arose and accompanied by nurse Hubub fared on, till they came to his lodging, where he talked with her and said to her, “All thou seekest of me is ready for thee, so but thou wilt bring me to enjoy her.” Hubub replied, “Hearten thy heart;” whereupon he rose and gave her an hundred dinars, saying “O Hubub, I have by me a dress worth an hundred gold pieces.” Answered she, “O Masrur, make haste with the trinkets and other things promised her, ere she change her mind, for we may not take her, save with wile and guile, and she loveth the saying of verse.” Quoth he, “Hearing and obeying,” and bringing her the musk and ambergris and lign-aloes and rosewater, returned with her to Zayn al-Mawasif and saluted her. She returned his salam with the sweetest speech, and he was dazed by her beauty and improvised these lines,
“O thou sheeniest Sun who in night dost shine!
O who stole my soul with those large black eyne!
O slim-shaped fair with the graceful neck!
O who shamest Rose wi’ those checks o’ thine!
Blind not our sight wi’ thy fell disdain,
Disdain, that shall load us with pain and pine;
Passion homes in our inmost, nor will be quenched
The fire of yearning in vitals li’en:
Your love has housèd in heart of me
And of issue but you see I ne’er a sign:
Then haply you’ll pity this hapless wight
Thy sad lover and then — O the Morn divine!”
When Zayn al-Mawasif heard his verses, she cast at him a glance of eyes, that bequeathed him a thousand regrets and sighs and his wits and soul were ravished in such wise, and answered him with these couplets13,
“Think not from her, of whom thou art enamoured aye
To win delight; so put desire from thee away.
Leave that thou hop’st, for ’gainst her rigours whom thou lov’st
Among the fair, in vain is all thou canst essay.
My looks to lovers bring discomfiture and woe: Indeed,
I make no count of that which thou dost say.”
When Masrur heard this, he hardened his heart and took patience, concealing his case and saying in himself, “There is nothing for it against calamity save longsuffering;” and after this fashion they abode till nightfall when Zayn al-Mawasif called for food and they set before her a tray wherein were all manner of dishes, quails and pigeons and mutton and so forth, whereof they ate their sufficiency. Then she bade take away the tables and they did so and fetched the lavatory gear; and they washed their hands, after which she ordered her women to bring the candlesticks, and they set on candelabra and candles therein of camphorated wax. Thereupon quoth Zayn al-Mawasif, “By Allah, my breast is straitened this night and I am afevered;” and quoth Masrur, “Allah broaden thy breast and banish thy bane!” Then she said, “O Masrur, I am used to play at chess: say me, knowest aught of the game?” He replied, “Yes; I am skilled therein;” whereupon she commanded her handmaid Hubub fetch her the chessboard. So she went away and presently returning with the board, set it before her, and behold, it was of ivory-marquetried ebony with squares marked in glittering gold, and its pieces of pearl and ruby. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The face of her who owns the garden.
2 i.e. I am no public woman.
3 i.e. with the sight of the garden and its mistress — purposely left vague.
4 Arab. “Dádat.” Night dcclxxvi. vol. vii. p. 372.
5 Meaning respectively “Awaking” (or blowing hard), “Affairs” (or Misfortunes) and “Flowing” (blood or water). They are evidently intended for the names of Jewish slave-girls.
6 i.e. the brow-curls, or accroche-cœurs. See vol. i. 168.
7 Arab. “Wisháh” usually applied to woman’s broad belt, stomacher (Al–Hariri Ass. af Rayy).
8 The old Greek “Stephane.”
9 Alluding to the popular fancy of the rain-drop which becomes a pearl.
10 Arab. “Ghází”=one who fights for the faith.
11 i.e. people of different conditions.
12 The sudden change appears unnatural to Europeans; but an Eastern girl talking to a strange man in a garden is already half won. The beauty, however, intends to make trial of her lover’s generosity before yielding.
13 These lines have occurred in the earlier part of the Night: I quote Mr. Payne for variety.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif bade the chessboard be brought, they set it between her hands; and Masrur was amazed at this, when she turned to him and said, “Wilt have red or white?” He replied, “O Princess of the fair and adornment of morning air, do thou take the red for they formous are and fitter for the like of thee to bear and leave the white to my care.” Answered she, “So be it;” and, taking the red pieces, ranged them opposite the white, then put out her hand to a piece purposing the first pass into the battle-plain. Masrur considered her fingers, which were white as paste, and was confounded at their beauty and shapely shape; whereupon she turned to him and said, “O Masrur, be not bedazed, but take patience and calm thyself.” He rejoined, “O thou whose beauty shameth the moon, how shall a lover look on thee and have patience-boon?” And while this was doing she cried, “Checkmate1!” and beat him; wherefore she knew that he was Jinn-mad for love of her and said to him, “O Masrur, I will not play with thee save for a set stake.” He replied, “I hear and obey,” and she rejoined, “Swear to me and I will swear to thee that neither of us will cheat2 the adversary.” So both sware this and she said, “O Masrur, an I beat thee, I will have ten dinars of thee, but an thou beat me, I will give thee a mere nothing.” He expected to win, so he said, “O my lady, be not false to thine oath, for I see thou art an overmatch for me at this game!” “Agreed,” said she and they ranged their men and fell again to playing and pushing on their pawns and catching them up with the queens and aligning and matching them with the castles and solacing them with the onslaught of the knights. Now the “Adornment of Qualities” wore on head a kerchief of blue brocade so she loosed it off and tucking up her sleeve, showed a wrist like a shaft of light and passed her palm over the red pieces, saying to him, “Look to thyself.” But he was dazzled at her beauty, and the sight of her graces bereft him of reason, so that he became dazed and amazed and put out his hand to the white men, but it alit upon the red. Said she, “O Masrur, where be thy wits? The red are mine and the white thine;” and he replied, “Whoso looketh at thee perforce loseth all his senses.” Then, seeing how it was with him, she took the white from him and gave him the red, and they played and she beat him. He ceased not to play with her and she to beat him, whilst he paid her each time ten dinars, till, knowing him to be distraught for love of her, she said, “O Masrur, thou wilt never win to thy wish, except thou beat me, for such was our understanding; and henceforth, I will not play with thee save for a stake of an hundred dinars a game.” “With love and gladness,” answered he and she went on playing and ever beating him and he paid her an hundred dinars each time; and on this wise they abode till the morning, without his having won a single game, when he suddenly sprang to his feet. Quoth she, “What wilt thou do, O Masrur?”; and quoth he, “I mean to go to my lodging and fetch somewhat of money: it may be I shall come to my desire.” “Do whatso seemeth good to thee,” said she; so he went home and taking all the money he had, returned to her improvising these two couplets,
“In dream I saw a bird o’er speed (meseem’d),
Love’s garden decked with blooms that smiled and gleamed:
But I shall ken, when won my wish and will
Of thee, the truthful sense of what I dreamed.”
Now when Masrur returned to her with all his monies they fell a-playing again; but she still beat him and he could not beat her once; and in such case they abode three days, till she had gotten of him the whole of his coin; whereupon said she, “O Masrur, what wilt thou do now?”; and he replied, “I will stake thee a druggist’s shop.” “What is its worth?” asked she; and he answered, “Five hundred dinars.” So they played five bouts and she won the shop of him. Then he betted his slave-girls, lands, houses, gardens, and she won the whole of them, till she had gotten of him all he had; whereupon she turned to him and said, “Hast thou aught left to lay down?” Cried he, “By Him who made me fall into the snare of thy love, I have neither money to touch nor aught else left, little or much!” She rejoined, “O Masrur, the end of whatso began in content shall not drive man to repent; wherefore, an thou regret aught, take back thy good and begone from us about thy business and I will hold thee quit towards me.” Masrur rejoined, “By Him who decreed these things to us, though thou sought to take my life ’twere a wee thing to stake for thine approof, because I love none but thee!” Then said she, “O Masrur, fare forthright and fetch the Kazi and the witnesses and make over to me by deed all thy lands and possessions.” “Willingly,” replied he and, going forth without stay or delay, brought the Kazi and the witnesses and set them before her. When the judge saw her, his wits fled and his mind was amazed and his reason was dazed for the beauty of her fingers, and he said to her, “O my lady, I will not write out the writ of conveyance, save upon condition that thou buy the lands and mansions and slave-girls and that they all pass under thy control and into thy possession.” She rejoined, “We’re agreed upon that. Write me a deed, whereby all Masrur’s houses and lands and slave-girls and whatso his right hand possesseth shall pass to Zayn al-Mawasif and become her property at such a price.” So the Kazi wrote out the writ and the witnesses set hands thereto; whereupon she took it. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al–Sháh mát”=the King is dead, Pers. and Arab. grotesquely mixed: Europeans explain “Checkmate” in sundry ways, all more or less wrong.
2 Cheating (Ghadr) is so common that Easterns who have no tincture of Western civilisation look upon it not only as venial but laudable when one can take advantage of a simpleton. No idea of “honour” enters into it. Even in England the old lady whist-player of the last generation required to be looked after pretty closely — if Mr. Charles Dickens is to be trusted.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif took from the Kazi the deed which made over her lover’s property to her, she said to him, “O Masrur, now gang thy gait.” But her slave-girl Hubub turned to him and said, “Recite us some verses.” So he improvised upon that game of chess these couplets,
“Of Time and what befel me I complain,
Mourning my loss by chess and eyes of bane.
For love of gentlest, softest-sided fair
Whose like is not of maids or mortal strain:
The shafts of glances from those eyne who shot
And led her conquering host to battle-plain
Red men and white men and the clashing Knights
And, crying ‘Look to thee!’ came forth amain:
And, when down charging, finger-tips she showed
That gloomed like blackest night for sable stain,
The Whites I could not rescue, could not save
While ecstasy made tear, floods rail and rain:
The Pawns and Castles with their Queens fell low
And fled the Whites nor could the brunt sustain:
Yea, with her shaft of glance at me she shot
And soon that shaft had pierced my heart and brain:
She gave me choice between her hosts, and I
The Whites like moonlight first to choose was fain,
Saying, ‘This argent folk best fitteth me
I love them, but the Red by thee be ta’en!’
She playèd me for free accepted stake
Yet amorous mercy I could ne’er obtain:
O fire of heart, O pine and woe of me,
Wooing a fair like moon mid starry train:
Burns not my heart O no! nor aught regrets
Of good or land, but ah! her eyes’ disdain!
Amazed I’m grown and dazed for drearihead
And blame I Time who brought such pine and pain.
Quoth she, ‘Why art thou so bedazed!’ quoth I
‘Wine-drunken wight shall more of wine assain?’
That mortal stole my sense by silk-soft shape,
Which doth for heart-core hardest rock contain.
I nervèd self and cried, ‘This day she’s mine’
By bet, nor fear I prove she unhumàne:
My heart ne’er ceased to seek possession, till
Beggared I found me for conditions twain:
Will youth you loveth shun the Love-dealt blow,
Tho’ were he whelmed in Love’s high-surging main?
So woke the slave sans e’en a coin to turn,
Thralled to repine for what he ne’er shall gain!”
Zayn al-Mawasif hearing these words marvelled at the eloquence of his tongue and said to him, “O Masrur, leave this madness and return to thy right reason and wend thy ways; for thou hast wasted all thy moveables and immoveables at the chessgame, yet hast not won thy wish, nor hast thou any resource or device whereby thou mayst attain to it.” But he turned to her and said, “O my lady, ask of me whatso thou wilt and thou shalt have it; for I will bring it to thee and lay it at thy feet.” Answered she, “O Masrur, thou hast no money left.” “O goal of all hopes, if I have no money, the folk will help me.” “Shall the giver turn asker?” “I have friends and kinsfolk, and whatsoever I seek of them, they will give me.” “O Masrur, I will have of thee four pods of musk and four vases of civet1 and four pounds of ambergris and four thousand dinars and four hundred pieces of royal brocade, purfled with gold. An thou bring me these things, O Masrur, I will grant thee my favours.” “This is a light matter to me, O thou that puttest the moons to shame,” replied he and went forth to fetch her what she sought. She sent her maid Hubub after him, to see what worth he had with the folk of whom he had spoken to her; but, as he walked along the highways he turned and seeing her afar off, waited till she came up to him and said to her, “Whither away, O Hubub?” So she said to him, “My mistress sent me to follow for this and that,” and he replied, “By Allah, O Hubub, I have nothing to hand!” She asked, “Then why didst thou promise her?”; and he answered, “How many a promise made is unkept of its maker! Fine words in love-matters needs must be.” When she heard this from him, she said, “O Masrur, be of good cheer and eyes clear for, by Allah, most assuredly I will be the means of thy coming to enjoy her!” Then she left him nor ceased walking till she stood before her mistress weeping with sore weeping, and said, “O my lady, indeed he is a man of great consideration, and good repute among the folk.” Quoth Zayn al-Mawasif, “There is no device against the destiny of Almighty Allah! Verily, this man found not in me a pitiful heart, for that I despoiled him of his substance and he got of me neither affection nor complaisance in granting him amorous joy; but, if I incline to his inclination, I fear lest the thing be bruited abroad.” Quoth Hubub, “O my lady, verily, grievous upon us is his present plight and the loss of his good and thou hast with thee none save thyself and thy slave-girl Sukub; so which of us two would dare prate of thee, and we thy handmaids?” With this, she bowed her head for a while ground-wards and the damsels said to her, “O my lady, it is our rede that thou send after him and show him grace and suffer him not ask of the sordid; for how bitter is such begging!” So she accepted their counsel and calling for inkcase and paper, wrote him these couplets,
“Joy is nigh, O Masrúr, so rejoice in true rede;
Whenas night shall fall thou shalt do kind-deed:
Crave not of the sordid a loan, fair youth,
Wine stole my wits but they now take heed:
All thy good I reft shall return to thee,
O Masrúr, and I’ll add to them amorous meed;
For indeed th’ art patient, and sweet of soul
When wronged by thy lover’s tyrannic greed.
So haste to enjoy us and luck to thee!
Lest my folk come between us speed, love, all speed!
Hurry uswards thou, nor delay, and while
My mate is far, on Love’s fruit come feed.”
Then she folded the paper and gave it to Hubub the handmaid, who carried it to Masrur and found him weeping and reciting in a transport of passion and love-longing these lines,
“A breeze of love on my soul did blow
That consumed my liver for stress of lowe;
When my sweetheart went all my longings grew;
And with tears in torrent mine eyelids flow:
Such my doubt and fears, did I tell their tale
To deaf rocks and pebbles they’d melt for woe.
Would Heaven I wot shall I sight delight,
And shall win my wish and my friend shall know!
Shall be folded up nights that doomed us part
And I be healed of what harms my heart?”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al–Gháliyah,” whence the older English Algallia. See vol. i., 128. The Voyage of Linschoten, etc. Hakluyt Society MDCCCLXXXV., with notes by my learned friend the late Arthur Coke Burnell whose early death was so sore a loss to Oriental students.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that while Masrur, transported by passion and love-longing, was repeating his couplets in sing-song tone Hubub knocked at his door; so he rose and opened to her, and she entered and gave him the letter. He read it and said to her, “O Hubub, what is behind thee of thy lady’s news1?” She answered, “O my lord, verily, in this letter is that dispenseth me from reply, for thou art of those who readily descry!” Thereat he rejoiced with joy exceeding and repeated these two couplets,
“Came the writ whose contents a new joy revealed,
Which in vitals mine I would keep ensealed:
And my longings grew when I kissed that writ,
As were pearl of passion therein concealed.”
Then he wrote a letter answering hers and gave it to Hubub, who took it and returned with it to her mistress and forthright fell to extolling his charms to her and expiating on his good gifts and generosity; for she was become a helper to him, to bring about his union with her lady. Quoth Zayn al-Mawasif, “O Hubub, indeed he tarrieth to come to us;” and quoth Hubub, “He will certainly come soon.” Hardly had she made an end of speaking when behold, he knocked at the door, and she opened to him and brought him in to her mistress, who saluted him with the salam2 and welcomed him and seated him by her side. Then she said to Hubub, “Bring me a suit of brocade;” so she brought a robe broidered with gold and Zayn al-Mawasif threw it over him, whilst she herself donned one of the richest dresses and crowned her head with a net of pearls of the freshest water. About this she bound a fillet of brocade, purfled with pearls, jacinths and other jewels, from beneath which she let down two tresses3 each looped with a pendant of ruby, charactered with glittering gold, and she loosed her hair, as it were the sombrest night; and lastly she incensed herself with aloes-wood and scented herself with musk and ambergris, and Hubub said to her, “Allah save thee from the evil eye!” Then she began to walk, swaying from side to side with gracefullest gait, whilst Hubub who excelled in verse-making, recited in her honour these couplets,
“Shamed is the bough of Bán by pace of her;
And harmed are lovers by the gaze of her.
A moon she rose from murks, the hair of her,
A sun from locks the brow encase of her:
Blest he she nights with by the grace of her,
Who dies in her with oath by days of her!”
So Zayn al-Mawasif thanked her and went up to Masrur, as she were full moon displayed. But when he saw her, he rose to his feet and exclaimed, “An my thought deceive me not, she is no human, but one of the brides of Heaven!” Then she called for food and they brought a table, about whose marge were written these couplets,4
“Dip thou with spoons in saucers four and gladden heart and eye
With many a various kind of stew and fricassee and fry.
Thereon fat quails (ne’er shall I cease to love and tender them)
And rails and fowls and dainty birds of all the kinds that fly.
Glory to God for the Kabobs, for redness all aglow,
And potherbs, steeped in vinegar, in porringers thereby!
Fair fall the rice with sweet milk dressed, wherein the hands did plunge
And eke the forearms of the fair were buried, bracelet-high!
How my heart yearneth with regret over two plates of fish
That by two manchet-cakes of bread of Tewarij5 did lie!”
Then they ate and drank and made mirth and merriment, after which the servants removed the table of food and set on the wine service; so cup and tasse6 passed round between them and they were gladdened in soul. Then Masrur filled the cup and saying, “O whose thrall am I and who is my mistress!”7 chanted these improvised couplets,
“Mine eyes I admire that can feed their fill
On charms of a girl rising worlds to light:
In her time she hath none to compare for gifts
Of spirit and body a mere delight.
Her shape breeds envy in Cassia-tree
When fares she forth in her symmetry dight:
With luminous brow shaming moon of dark
And crown-like crescent the brightest bright.
When treads she earth’s surface her fragrance scents
The Zephyr that breathes over plain and height.”
When he ended his extempore song she said, “O Masrur, whoso religiously keepeth his faith and hath eaten our bread and salt, it behoveth us to give him his due; so put away from thee all thought of what hath been and I will restore thee thy lands and houses and all we have taken from thee.” He replied, “O my lady, I acquit thee of that whereof thou speakest, though thou hadst been false to the oath and covenant between us; for I will go and become a Moslem.” Zayn al-Mawasif protested that she would follow suit8 when Hubub cried to her, “O my lady, thou art young of years and knowest many things, and I claim the intercession of Almighty Allah with thee for, except thou do my bidding and heal my heart, I will not lie the night with thee in the house.” And she replied, “O Hubub, it shall be as thou wilt. Rise and make us ready another sitting-room.” So she sprang to her feet and gat ready a room and adorned and perfumed it after fairest fashion even as her lady loved and preferred; after which she again set on food and wine, and the cup went round between them and their hearts were glad. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A favourite idiom, “What news bringest thou?” (“O Asám!” Arab. Prov. ii. 589) used by Háris bin Amrú, King of Kindah, to the old woman Asám whom he had sent to inspect a girl he purposed marrying.
2 Amongst the Jews the Arab Salám becomes “Shalúm” and a Jewess would certainly not address this ceremonial greeting to a Christian. But Eastern storytellers care little for these minutiæ; and the “Adornment of Qualities,” was not by birth a Jewess as the sequel will show.
3 Arab. “Sálifah,” the silken plaits used as adjuncts. See vol. iii, 313.
4 I have translated these lines in vol. i. 131, and quoted Mr. Torrens in vol. iv. 235. Here I borrow from Mr. Payne.
5 Mr. Payne notes:— Apparently some place celebrated for its fine bread, as Gonesse in seventeenth-century France. It occurs also in Bresl. Edit. (iv. 203) and Dozy does not understand it. But Arj the root=good odour.
6 Arab. “Tás,” from Pers. Tásah. M. Charbonneau a Professor of Arabic at Constantine and Member of the Asiatic Soc. Paris, who published the Histoire de Chams–Eddine et Nour–Eddine with Maghrabi punctuation (Paris, Hachette, 1852) remarks the similarity of this word to Tazza and a number of other whimsical coincidences as Zauj, jugum; Inkár, negare; matrah, matelas; Ishtirá, acheter, etc. To which I may add wasat, waist; zabad, civet; Bás, buss (kiss); uzrub (pron. Zrub), drub; Kat’, cut; Tarík, track; etc., etc.
7 We should say “To her (I drink)” etc.
8 This is ad captandum. The lovers becoming Moslems would secure the sympathy of the audience. In the sequel (Night dccclviii) we learn that the wilful young woman was a born Moslemah who had married a Jew but had never Judaized.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif bade her maid Hubub make ready a private sitting-room she arose and did her bidding, after which she again set food and wine before them and cup and tasse went round gladdening their hearts. Presently quoth Zayn al-Mawasif, “O Masrur, come is the time of Union and favour; so, as thou studiest my love to savour recite us some verses surpassing of flavour. “ Upon this he recited the following ode1,
“I am taken: my heart bums with living flame For Union shorn whenas Severance came, In the love of a damsel who forced my soul And with delicate cheeklet my reason stole. She hath eyebrows united and eyes black-white And her teeth are leven that smiles in light: The tale of her years is but ten plus four; Tears like Dragon’s blood2 for her love I pour. First I saw that face ’mid parterre and rill, Outshining full Lune on horizon-hill; And stood like a captive for awe, and cried, ‘Allah’s Peace, O who in demesne3 doth hide!’ She returned my salam, gaily answering With the sweetest speech likest pearls a-string. But when heard my words, she right soon had known My want and her heart waxed hard as stone, And quoth she, ‘Be not this a word silly-bold?’ But quoth I, ‘Refrain thee nor flyte and scold! An to-day thou consent such affair were light; They like is the loved, mine the lover-wight!’ When she knew my mind she but smiled in mirth And cried, ‘Now, by the Maker of Heaven and Earth! I’m a Jewess of Jewry’s driest e’er seen And thou art naught save a Nazarene. Why seek my favours? Thine’s other caste; An this deed thou do thou’lt repent the past. Say, does Love allow with two Faiths to play? Men shall blame thee like me, at each break of day! Wilt thou laugh at beliefs and deride their rite, And in thine and mine prove thee sinful sprite? An thou lovedest me thou hadst turnèd Jew, Losing worlds for love and my favours due; And by the Evangel strong oath hadst sworn To keep our secret intact from scorn!’ So I took the Torah and sware strong oath I would hold to the covenant made by both. Then by law, religion and creed I sware, And bound her by oaths that most binding were; And asked her, ‘Thy name, O my dear delight?’ And she, ‘Zayn al-Mawásif at home I’m hight!’ ‘O Zayn al-Mawasif!’ (cried I) ‘Hear my call: Thy love hath made me thy veriest thrall!’ Then I peeped ‘neath her chin-veil and ‘spied such charms That the longing of love filled my heart with qualms. ‘Neath the curtain I ceased not to humble me, And complain of my heart-felt misery; But when she saw me by Love beguiled She raised her face-veil and sweetly smiled: And when breeze of Union our faces kiss’d With musk-pod she scented fair neck and wrist; And the house with her essences seemed to drip, And I kissed pure wine from each smiling lip: Then like branch of Bán ‘neath her robe she swayed And joys erst unlawful4 she lawful made: And joined, conjoined through our night we lay With clip, kiss of inner lip, langue fourrée. The world hath no grace but the one loved fere In thine arms to clasp with possession sheer! With the morn she rose and she bade Good-bye While her brow shone brighter than moon a-sky; Reciting at parting (while tear-drops hung On her cheeks, these scattered and other strung),5 ‘Allah’s pact in mind all my life I’ll bear And the lovely nights and strong oath I sware.’”
Zayn al-Mawasif was delighted and said to him, “O Masrur, how goodly are thy inner gifts! May he live not who would harm thy heart!” Then she entered her boudoir and called him: so he went in to her and taking her in his arms, embraced her and hugged her and kissed her and got of her that which he had deemed impossible and rejoiced in winning the sweet of amorous will. Then said she, “O Masrur, thy good is unlawful to me and is lawfully thine again now that we are become lovers.” So she returned to him all she had taken of him and asked him, “O Masrur, hast thou a flower-garden whither we may wend and take our pleasure?”; whereto he answered, “Yes, O my lady, I have a garden that hath not its like.” Then he returned to his lodgings and bade his slave-girls make ready a splendid banquet and a handsome room; after which he summoned Zayn al-Mawasif who came surrounded by her damsels, and they ate and drank and made mirth and merriment, whilst the cup passed round between them and their spirits rose high. Then lover withdrew with beloved and Zayn al-Mawasif said to Masrur, “I have bethought me of some dainty verses, which I would fain sing to the lute.” He replied, “Do sing them”; so she took the lute and tuning it, sang to a pleasant air these couplets,
“Joy from stroke of string doth to me incline,
And sweet is a-morning our early wine;
Whenas Love unveileth the amourist’s heart,
And by rending the veil he displays his sign,
With a draught so pure, so dear, so bright,
As in hand of Moons6 the Sun’s sheeny shine
O’ nights it cometh with joy to ‘rase
The hoar of sorrow by boon divine.”
Then ending her verse, she said to him, “O Masrur, recite us somewhat of thy poetry and favour us with the fruit of thy thought.” So he recited these two couplets,
“We joy in full Moon who the wine bears round,
And in concert of lutes that from gardens sound;
Where the dove moans at dawn and where bends the bough
To Morn, and all pathways of pleasure are found.”
When he had finished his recitation she said to him, “Make us some verses on that which hath passed between us an thou be occupied with love of me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The doggerel of this Kasidah is not so phenomenal as some we have seen.
2 Arab. “‘Andam”=Brazil wood, vol. iii. 263.
3 Arab. “ Himà.” See supra, p. 102.
4 i.e. her favours were not lawful till the union was sanctified by heartwhole (if not pure) love.
5 Arab. “Mansúr wa munazzam=oratio soluta et ligata.
6 i.e. the cupbearers.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif said to Masrur, “An thou be occupied with love of me, make us some verses on that hath passed between us,” “With love and gladness,” he replied and improvised the following Kasídah1,
“Stand thou and hear what fell to me
For love of you gazelle to dree!
Shot me a white doe with her shaft
O’ glances wounding woundily.
Love was my ruin, for was I
Straitened by longing ecstasy: I loved and woo’d a young coquette
Girded by strong artillery,
Whom in a garth I first beheld
A form whose sight was symmetry.
I greeted her and when she deigned
Greeting return, ‘Salám,’ quoth she
‘What be thy name?’ said I, she said,
‘My name declares my quality!2’
‘Zayn al-Mawásif I am hight.’
Cried I, ‘Oh deign I mercy see,’
‘Such is the longing in my heart
No lover claimeth rivalry!’
Quoth she, ‘With me an thou ‘rt in love
And to enjoy me pleadest plea,
I want of thee oh! muchel wealth;
Beyond all compt my wants o’ thee!
I want o’ thee full many a robe
Of sendal, silk and damaskry;
A quarter quintal eke of musk:
These of one night shall pay the fee.
Pearls, unions and carnelian3-stones
The bestest best of jewelry!’
Of fairest patience showed I show
In contrariety albe: At last she favoured me one night
When rose the moon a crescent wee;
An stranger blame me for her sake
I say, ‘O blamers listen ye!
She showeth locks of goodly length
And black as blackest night its blee;
While on her cheeks the roses glow
Like Lazá-flame incendiary:
In every eyelash is a sword
And every glance hath archery: Her liplets twain old wine contain,
And dews of fount-like purity:
Her teeth resemble strings o’ pearls,
Arrayed in line and fresh from sea:
Her neck is like the neck of doe,
Pretty and carven perfectly:
Her bosom is a marble slab
Whence rise two breasts like towers on lea:
And on her stomach shows a crease
Perfumed with rich perfumery;
Beneath which same there lurks a Thing
Limit of mine expectancy.
A something rounded, cushioned-high
And plump, my lords, to high degree:
To me ’tis likest royal throne
Whither my longings wander free;
There ‘twixt two pillars man shall find
Benches of high-built tracery.
It hath specific qualities
Drive sanest men t’ insanity;
Full mouth it hath like mouth of neck
Or well begirt by stony key;
Firm lips with camelry’s compare
And shows it eye of cramoisie.
An draw thou nigh with doughty will
To do thy doing lustily, Thou’ll find it fain to face thy bout
And strong and fierce in valiancy.
It bendeth backwards every brave
Shorn of his battle-bravery. At times imberbe, but full of spunk
To battle with the Paynimry.
‘T will show thee liveliness galore
And perfect in its raillery:
Zayn al-Mawasif it is like
Complete in charms and courtesy. To her dear arms one night I came
And won meed given lawfully:
I passed with her that self-same night
(Best of my nights!) in gladdest glee;
And when the morning rose, she rose
And crescent like her visnomy:
Then swayed her supple form as sway
The lances lopt from limber tree;
And when farewelling me she cried,
‘When shall such nights return to me?’
Then I replied, ‘O eyen-light,
When He vouchsafeth His decree!’”4
Zayn al-Mawasif was delighted with this Ode and the utmost gladness gat hold of her. Then said she, “O Masrur day-dawn draweth nigh and there is naught for it save to fly for fear of scandal and spy!” He replied, “I hear and obey,” and rising led her to her lodging, after which he returned to his quarters5 and passed the rest of the night pondering on her charms. When the morning morrowed with its sheen and shone, he made ready a splendid present and carried it to her and sat by her side. And thus they abode awhile, in all solace of life and its delight, till one day there came to Zayn al-Mawasif a letter from her husband reporting to her his speedy return. Thereupon she said in herself, “May Allah not keep him nor quicken him! If he come hither, our life will be troubled: would Heaven I might despair of him!” Presently entered Masrur and sat with her at chat, as was his wont, whereupon she said to him, “O Masrur, I have received a missive from my mate, announcing his speedy return from his wayfaring. What is to be done, since neither of us without other can live?” He replied, “I know not; but thou art better able to judge, being acquainted with the ways of thy man, more by token that thou art one of the sharpest-witted of women and past mistress of devices such as devise that whereof fail the wise.” Quoth she, “He is a hard man and jealous of his household: but, when he shall come home and thou hearest of his coming, do thou repair to him and salute him and sit down by his side, saying, ‘O my brother, I am a druggist.’ Then buy of him somewhat of drugs and spices of sorts and call upon him frequently and prolong thy talks with him and gainsay him not in whatsoever he shall bid thee; so haply that I would contrive may betide, as it were by chance.” “I hear and I obey,” quoth Masrur and fared forth from her, with heart a-fire for love. When her husband came home, she rejoiced in meeting him and after saluting him bade him welcome; but he looked in her face and seeing it pale and sallow (for she bad washed it with saffron, using one of women’s arts), asked her of her case. She answered that she had been sick, she and her women, from the time of his wayfaring, adding, “Verily, our hearts have been engrossed with thoughts of thee because of the length of thine absence.” And she went on to complain to him of the misery of separation and to pour forth copious tears, saying, “Hadst thou but a companion with thee, my heart had not borne all this cark and care for thee. So, Allah upon thee, O my lord, travel not again without a comrade and cut me not off from news of thee, that my heart and mind may be at rest concerning thee!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Which is not worse than usual.
2 i.e. “Ornament of Qualities.”
3 The ‘Akík, a mean and common stone, ranks high in Moslem poetry on account of the saying of Mohammed recorded by Ali and Ayishah “Seal with seals of Carnelian.” (‘Akik.)
4 See note ii. at the end of this volume.
5 Arab. “Mahall” as opposed to the lady’s “Manzil,” which would be better “Makám.” The Arabs had many names for their old habitations, e.g.; Kubbah, of brick; Sutrah, of sun-dried mud; Hazírah, of wood; Tiráf, a tent of leather; Khabáa, of wool; Kash’a, of skins; Nakhád, of camel’s or goat’s hair; Khaymah, of cotton cloth; Wabar, of soft hair as the camel’s undercoat and Fustát (the well-known P.N.) a tent of horsehair or any hair (Sha’ar) but Wabar.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif said to her mate, “Travel not without comrade and cut me not off from news of thee, that my heart and mind may be at rest concerning thee,” he replied, “With love and gladness! By Allah thy bede is good indeed and right is thy rede! By thy life, it shall be as thou dost heed.” Then he unpacked some of his stock-in-trade and carrying the goods to his shop, opened it and sat down to sell in the Soko.1 No sooner had he taken his place than lo and behold! up came Masrur and saluting him, sat down by his side and began talking and talked with him awhile. Then he pulled out a purse and taking forth gold, handed it to Zayn al-Mawasif’s man and said, “Give me the worth of these dinars in drugs and spices of sorts, that I may sell them in my shop.” The Jew replied, “I hear and I obey,” and gave him what he sought. And Masrur continued to pay him frequent visits till, one day, the merchant said to him, “I have a mind to take me a man to partner in trade.” Quoth Masrur, “And I also, desire to take a partner; for my father was a merchant in the land of Al–Yaman and left me great store of money and I fear lest it fare from me.” Quoth the Jew, turning towards him, “Wilt thou be my partner, and I will be thy partner and a true friend and comrade to thee at home and abroad; and I will teach thee selling and buying, giving and taking?” And Masrur rejoined, “With all my heart.” So the merchant carried him to his place and seated him in the vestibule, whilst he went in to his wife and said to her, “I have provided me with a partner and have bidden him hither as a guest; so do thou get us ready good guest-cheer.” Whenas she heard this, she rejoiced divining that it was Masrur, and made ready a magnificent banquet,2 of her delight in the success of her device. Then, when the guest drew nigh, her husband said to her, “Come out with me to him and bid him welcome and say, ‘Thou gladdenest us3!’” But Zayn al-Mawasif made a show of anger, crying, “Wilt thou have me display myself before a strange man? I take refuge with Allah! Though thou cut me to bits, I will not appear before him!” Rejoined he, “Why shouldst thou be abashed at him, seeing that he is a Nazarene and we are Jews and, to boot, we are become chums, he and I?” Quoth she, “I am not minded to present myself before a strange man, on whom I have never once set eyes and whom I know not any wise.” Her husband thought she spoke sooth and ceased not to importune her, till she rose and veiling herself, took the food and went out to Masrur and welcomed him; whereupon he bowed his head groundwards, as he were ashamed, and the Jew, seeing such dejection said in himself, “Doubtless, this man is a devotee.” They ate their fill and the table being removed, wine was set on. As for Zayn al-Mawasif, she sat over against Masrur and gazed on him and he gazed on her till ended day, when he went home, with a heart to fire a prey. But the Jew abode pondering the grace and the comeliness of him; and, as soon as it was night, his wife according to custom served him with supper and they seated themselves before it. Now he had a mockingbird which was wont, whenever he sat down to meat, to come and eat with him and hover over his head; but in his absence the fowl was grown familiar with Masrur and used to flutter about him as he sat at meals. Now when Masrur disappeared and the master returned, it knew him not and would not draw near him, and this made him thoughtful concerning his case and the fowl’s withdrawing from him. As for Zayn al-Mawasif, she could not sleep with her heart thinking of Masrur, and thus it was with her a second and even a third night, till the Jew became aware of her condition and, watching her while she sat distraught, began to suspect somewhat wrong. On the fourth night, he awoke in the middle thereof and heard his wife babbling in her sleep and naming Masrur, what while she lay on her husband’s bosom, wherefore he misdoubted her; but he dissembled his suspicions and when morning morrowed he repaired to his shop and sat therein. Presently, up came Masrur and saluted him. He returned his salam and said to him, “Welcome, O my brother!” adding anon, “I have wished for thee;” and he sat talking with him for an hour or so, after which he said to him, “Rise, O my brother, and hie with me to my house, that we may enter into the pact of brotherhood.”4 Replied Masrur, “With joy and goodly gree,” and they repaired to the Jew’s house, where the master went in and told his wife of Masrur’s visit, for the purpose of conditioning their partnership, and said, “Make us ready a goodly entertainment, and needs must thou be present and witness our brotherhood.” But she replied, “Allah upon thee, cause me not show myself to this strange man, for I have no mind to company with him.” So he held his peace and forbore to press her and bade the waiting-women bring food and drink. Then he called the mocking-bird but it knew not its lord and settled upon Masrur’s lap; and the Jew said to him, “O my master, what is thy name?” He answered, “My name is Masrur;” whereupon the Jew remembered that this was the name which his wife had repeated all night long in her sleep. Presently, he raised his head and saw her making signs5 with her forefingers to Masrur and motioning to him with her eyes, wherefore he knew that he had been completely cozened and cuckolded and said, “O my lord, excuse me awhile, till I fetch my kinsmen, so they may be present at our swearing brotherhood.” Quoth Masrur, “Do what seemeth good to thee;” whereupon the Jew went forth the house and returning privily by a back way. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is the Maghribi form of the Arab. Súk=a bazar-street, known from Tanjah (Tangiers) to Timbuctoo.
2 Arab. “Walímah” usually=a wedding-feast. According to the learned Nasíf alYazají the names of entertainments are as follows: Al–Jafalà=a general invitation, opp. to Al–Nakarà, especial; Khurs, a childbirth feast; ‘Akíkah, when the boy-babe is first shaved; A’zár=circumcision-feast; Hizák, when the boy has finished his perlection of the Koran; Milák, on occasion of marriage-offer; Wazímah, a mourning entertainment; Wakírah=a “house-warming”; Nakí‘ah, on returning from wayfare; ‘Akírah, at beginning of the month Rajab; Kirà=a guest-feast and Maadubah, a feast for other cause; any feast.
3 Arab. “Anistaná” the pop. phrase=thy company gladdens us.
4 Here “Muákhát” or making mutual brotherhood would be=entering into a formal agreement for partnership. For the forms of “making brotherhood,” see vol. iii. 15.
5 Arab. “Ishárah” in classical Arab. signs with the finger (beckoning); Aumá with the hand; Ramz, with the lips; Khalaj, with the eyelids (wink); and Ghamz with the eye. Aumáz is a furtive glance, especially of women, and Ilház, a side-glance from lahaza, limis oculis intuitus est. See Preston’s Al–Hariri, p. 181.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Zayn al-Mawasif’s husband said to Masrur, “Excuse me awhile, till I fetch my cousins to witness the brother-bond between me and thee.” Then he went forth and, privily returning behind the sitting-room, there took his station hard by a window which gave upon the saloon and whence he could watch them without their seeing him. Suddenly quoth Zayn al-Mawasif to her maid Sukub, “Whither is thy master gone?”; and quoth she, “He is gone without the house.” Cried the mistress, “Lock the door and bar it with iron and open thou not till he knock, after thou hast told me.” Answered Sukub, “So shall it be done.” Then, while her husband watched them, she rose and filling a cup with wine, flavoured with powdered musk and rose-water, went close to Masrur, who sprang up to meet her, saying, “By Allah, the water of thy mouth is sweeter than this wine!” “Here it is for thee,” said she and filling her mouth with wine, gave him to drink thereof, whilst he gave her the like to drink; after which she sprinkled him with rose-water from front to foot, till the perfume scented the whole place. All this while, the Jew was looking on and marvelling at the stress of love that was between them and his heart was filled with fury for what he saw and he was not only wroth, but jealous with exceeding jealousy. Then he went out again and coming to the door found it locked and knocked a loud knock of the excess of his rage; whereupon quoth Sukub, “O my lady, here is my master;” and quoth Zayn al-Mawasif, “Open to him; would that Allah had not brought him back in safety!” So Sukub went and opened the door to the Jew, who said to her, “What ailed thee to lock the door?” Quoth she, “It hath never ceased to be locked thus during thine absence; nor hath it been opened night nor day;” and cried he, “Thou hast done well; this pleaseth me.” Then he went in to Masrur, laughing and dissembling his chagrin, and said to him, “O Masrur, let us put off the conclusion of our pact of brotherhood this day and defer it to another.” Replied Masrur, “As thou wilt,” and hied him home, leaving the Jew pondering his case and knowing not what to do; for his heart was sore troubled and he said in himself, “Even the mocking-bird disowneth me and the slave-girls shut the door in my face and favour another.” And of his exceeding chagrin, he fell to reciting these couplets,
“Masrur joys life made fair by all delight of days,
Fulfilled of boons, while mine the sorest grief displays.
The Days have falsed me in the breast of her I love
And in my heart are fires which all-consuming blaze:
Yea, Time was clear for thee, but now ’tis past and gone
While yet her lovely charms thy wit and senses daze:
Espied these eyes of mine her gifts of loveliness:
Oh, hard my case and sore my woe on spirit weighs!
I saw the maiden of the tribe deal rich old wine
Of lips like Salsabíl to friend my love betrays:
E’en so, O mocking-bird, thou dost betray my breast
And to a rival teachest Love and lover-ways:
Strange things indeed and wondrous saw these eyne of me
Which were they sleepdrowned still from Sleep’s abyss would raise:
I see my best belovèd hath forsworn my love
And eke like my mocking-bird fro’ me a-startled strays.
By truth of Allah, Lord of Worlds who, whatso wills
His Fate, for creatures works and none His hest gainsays,
Forsure I’ll deal to that ungodly wight his due
Who but to sate his wicked will her heart withdrew!”
When Zayn al-Mawasif heard this, her side-muscles trembled and quoth she to her handmaid, “Heardest thou those lines?”; whereupon quoth the girl, “I never heard him in my born days recite the like of these verses; but let him say what he will.” Then having assured himself of the truth of his suspicions, the Jew began to sell all his property, saying to himself, “Unless I part them by removing her from her mother land the twain will not turn back from this that they are engaged in, no, never!” So, when he had converted all his possessions into coin, he forged a letter and read it to Zayn al-Mawasif, declaring that it had come from his kinsmen, who invited him to visit them, him and his wife. She asked, “How long shall we tarry with them?” and he answered, “Twelve days.” Accordingly she consented to this and said, “Shall I take any of my maids with me?”; whereto he replied, “Take Hubub and Sukub and leave Khutub here.” Then he made ready a handsome camel-litter1 for his spouse and her women and prepared to set out with them; whilst she sent to her leman, telling him what had betided her and saying, “O Masrur, an the trysting-time2 that is between us pass and I come not back, know that he hath cheated and cozened us and planned a plot to separate us each from other, so forget thou not the plighted faith betwixt us, for I fear that he hath found out our love and I dread his craft and perfidy.” Then, whilst her man was busy about his march she fell a-weeping and lamenting and no peace was left her, night or day. Her husband saw this, but took no note thereof; and when she saw there was scant help for it, she gathered together her clothes and gear and deposited them with her sister, telling her what had befallen her. Then she farewelled her and going out from her, drowned in tears, returned to her own house, where she found her husband had brought the camels and was busy loading them, having set apart the handsomest dromedary for her riding, and when she saw this and knew that needs must she be separated from Masrur, she waxt clean distraught. Presently it chanced that the Jew went out on some business of his; so she fared forth to the first or outer door and wrote thereon these couplets — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif saw her spouse summon the camels and knew that the march needs must be, she waxt clean distraught. Presently it chanced that the Jew went out on some business so she fared forth to the first door and wrote thereon these couplets,
“Bear our salams, O Dove, from this our stead
From lover to beloved far severèd!
Bid him fro’ me ne’er cease to yearn and mourn
O’er happy days and hours for ever fled:
Eke I in grief shall ever mourn and yearn,
Dwelling on days of love and lustihead;
Long was our joyance, seeming aye to last,
When night and morning to reunion led;
Till croaked the Raven1 of the Wold one day
His cursed croak and did our union dead.
We sped and left the homestead dark and void
Its gates unpeopled and its dwellers sped.”
Then she went to the second door and wrote thereon these couplets,
“O who passest this doorway, by Allah, see
The charms of my fere in the glooms and make plea
For me, saying, ‘I think of the Past and weep
Yet boot me no tears flowing full and free.’
Say, ‘An fail thee patience for what befel
Scatter earth and dust on the head of thee!
And o’er travel lands East and West, and deem
God sufficeth thy case, so bear patiently!’”
Then she went to the third door and wept sore and thereon wrote these couplets,
“Fare softly, Masrúr! an her sanctuary
Thou seek, and read what a-door writ she.
Ne’er forget Love-plight, if true man; how oft
Hast savoured Nights’ bitter and sweetest gree!
O Masrúr! forget not her neighbourhood
For wi’ thee must her gladness and joyance flee!
But beweep those dearest united days
When thou camest veilèd in secresy;
Wend for sake of us over farthest wone;
Span the wold for us, for us dive in sea;
Allah bless the past days! Ah, how glad they were
When in Gardens of Fancy the flowers pluckt we!
The nights of Union from us are fled
And parting-glooms dim their radiancy;
Ah! had this lasted as hopèd we, but
He left only our breasts and the rosery.
Will revolving days on Re-union dawn?
Then our vow to the Lord shall accomplisht be.
Learn thou our lots are in hand of Him
Who on lines of skull2 writes our destiny!”
Then she wept with sore weeping and returned to the house, wailing and remembering what had passed and saying, “Glory be to God who hath decreed to us this!” And her affliction redoubled for severance from her beloved and her departure from her mother-land, and she recited these couplets,
“Allah’s peace on thee, House of Vacancy!
Ceased in thee all our joys, all our jubilee.
O thou Dove of the homestead, ne’er cease to bemoan
Whose moons and full moons3 sorest severance dree:
Masrúr, fare softly and mourn our loss;
Loving thee our eyes lose their brilliancy:
Would thy sight had seen, on our marching day,
Tears shed by a heart in Hell’s flagrancy!
Forget not the plight in the garth-shade pledged
When we sat enveiléd in privacy:”
Then she presented herself before her husband, who lifted her into the litter he had let make for her; and, when she found herself on the camel’s back, she recited these couplets,
“The Lord, empty House! to thee peace decree
Long we bore therein growth of misery:
Would my life-thread were shorn in that safe abode
And o’ night
I had died in mine ecstasy!
Home-sickness I mourn, and my strangerhood
Irks my soul, nor the riddle of future I ree.
Would I wot shall I ever that house resee
And find it, as erst, home of joy and glee!”
Said her husband, “O Zayn al-Mawasif grieve not for thy departure from thy dwelling; for thou shalt return to it ere long Inshallah!” And he went on to comfort her heart and soothe her sorrow. Then all set out and fared on till they came without the town and struck into the high road, whereupon she knew that separation was certain and this was very grievous to her. And while such things happened Masrur sat in his quarters, pondering his case and that of his mistress, and his heart forewarned him of severance. So he rose without stay and delay and repairing to her house, found the outer door padlocked and read the couplets she had written thereon; upon which he fell down in a fainting fit. When he came to himself, he opened the first door and entering, read what was written upon the second and likewise upon the third doors; wherefore passion and love-longing and distraction grew on him. So he went forth and hastened in her track, till he came up with the light caravan4 and found her at the rear, whilst her husband rode in the van, because of his merchandise. When he saw her, he clung to the litter, weeping and wailing for the anguish of parting, and recited these couplets,
“Would I wot for what crime shot and pierced are we
Thro’ the days with Estrangement’s archery!
O my heart’s desire, to thy door I came
One day, when high waxt mine expectancy:
But I found the home waste as the wold and void
And I ‘plained my pine and groaned wretchedly:
And I asked the walls of my friends who fared
With my heart in pawn and in pendency;
And they said, ‘All marched from the camp and left
An ambushed sorrow on hill and lea;’
And a writ on the walls did they write, as write
Folk who keep their faith while the Worlds are three.”
Now when Zayn al-Mawasif heard these lines, she knew that it was Masrur. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 See note, vol. vii. 267. So Dryden (Virgil):—
“And the hoarse raven on the blasted bough
By croaking to the left presaged the coming blow.”
And Gay (Fable xxxvii.),
“That raven on the left-hand oak,
Curse on his ill-betiding croak!”
In some Persian tales two crows seen together are a good omen.
2 Vulgar Moslems hold that each man’s fate is written in the sutures of his skull but none can read the lines. See vol. iii. 123.
3 i.e. cease not to bemoan her lot whose moon-faced beloved ones are gone.
4 Arab. “Rukb” used of a return caravan; and also meaning travellers on camels. The vulgar however apply “Rákib” (a camel-rider) to a man on horseback who is properly Fáris plur. “Khayyálah,” while “Khayyál” is a good rider. Other names are “Fayyál” (elephant-rider), Baghghál (mule-rider) and Hammár (donkeyrider).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif heard these lines she knew that it was Masrur and wept, she and her handmaids, and said to him, “O Masrur, I conjure thee by Allah, turn back, lest my husband see us twain together!” At her words he swooned away; and when he revived, they took leave each of other and he recited the following couplets,
“The Caravan-chief calleth loud o’ night
Ere the Breeze bear his cry in the morninglight:
They girded their loads and prepared to fare,
And hurried while murmured the leader-wight.
They scent the scene on its every side,
As their march through the valley they expedite.
After winning my heart by their love they went
O’ morn when their track could deceive my sight.
O my neighbour fair, I reckt ne’er to part,
Or the ground bedewed with my tears to sight!
Woe betide my heart, now hath Severance hand
To heart and vitals dealt bane and blight.”
Then he clung to the litter, weeping and wailing, whilst she besought him to turn back ere morn for fear of scorn. So he came up to her Haudaj and farewelling her a second time, fell down in a swoon. He lay an hour or so without life, and when he revived he found the caravan had fared forth of sight. So he turned in the direction of their wayfare and scenting the breeze which blew from their quarter, chanted these improvised lines,
“No breeze of Union to the lover blows
But moan he maketh burnt with fiery woes:
The Zephyr fans him at the dawn o’ day;
But when he wakes the horizon lonely shows:
On bed of sickness strewn in pain he lies,
And weeps he bloody tears in burning throes,
For the fair neighbour with my heart they bore
’Mid travellers urging beasts with cries and blows.
By Allah from their stead no Zephyr blew
But sniffed I as the wight on eyeballs goes;1
And snuff the sweetest South as musk it breathes
And on the longing lover scent bestows.”
Then Masrur returned, mad with love-longing, to her house, and finding it lone from end to end2 and forlorn of friend, wept till he wet his clothes; after which he swooned away and his soul was like to leave his body. When he revived, he recited these two couplets,
“O Spring-camp have ruth on mine overthrowing
My abjection, my leanness, my tears aye flowing,
Waft the scented powder3 of breezes they breathe
In hope it cure heart of a grief e’er growing.”
Then he returned to his own lodging confounded and tearful-eyed, and abode there for the space of ten days. Such was his case; but as regards the Jew, he journeyed on with Zayn al-Mawasif half a score days, at the end of which he halted at a certain city and she, being by that time assured that her husband had played her false, wrote to Masrur a letter and gave it to Hubub, saying, “Send this to Masrur, so he may know how foully and fully we have been tricked and how the Jew hath cheated us.” So Hubub took it and despatched it to Masrur, and when it reached, its news was grievous to him and he wept till he watered the ground. Then he wrote a reply and sent it to his mistress, subscribing it with these two couplets,
“Where is the way to Consolation’s door
How shall console him flames burn evermore?
How pleasant were the days of yore all gone:
Would we had somewhat of those days of yore!”
When the missive reached Zayn al-Mawasif, she read it and again gave it to her handmaid Hubub, saying to her, “Keep it secret!” However, the husband came to know of their correspondence and removed with her and her two women to another city, at a distance of twenty days’ march. Thus it befel Zayn al-Mawasif; but as regards Masrur, sleep was not sweet to him nor was peace peaceful to him or patience left to him, and he ceased not to be thus till, one night, his eyes closed for weariness and he dreamt that he saw Zayn al-Mawasif come to him in the garden and embrace him; but presently he awoke and found her not: whereupon his reason fled and his wits wandered and his eyes ran over with tears; love-longing to the utterest gat hold of his heart and he recited these couplets,
“Peace be to her, who visits me in sleeping phantasy
Stirring desire and growing love to uttermost degree:
Verily from that dream I rose with passion maddenèd
For sight of fairest phantom come in peace to visit me:
Say me, can dreams declare the truth anent the maid I love,
And quench the fires of thirst and heal my love-sick malady?
Anon to me she is liberal and she strains me to her breast;
Anon she soothes mine anxious heart with sweetest pleasantry:
From off her dark-red damask lips the dew I wont to sip
The fine old wine that seemed to reek of musk’s perfumery.
I wondered at the wondrous things between us done in dreams,
And won my wish and all my will of things I hoped to see;
And from that dreamery I rose, yet ne’er could hope to find
Trace of my phantom save my pain and fiery misery:
And when I looked on her a-morn, ’twas as a lover mad
And every eve was drunken yet no wine brought jollity.
O breathings of the northern breeze, by Allah fro’ me bear
Them-wards the greetings of my love and best salams that be:
Say them, ‘The wight with whom ye made that plight of fealty
Time with his changes made him drain Death’s cup and slain is he!’”
Then he went out and ceased not to weep till he came to her house and looking on it, saw it empty and void. Presently, it seemed to him he beheld her form before him, whereupon fires flamed in him and his griefs redoubled and he fell down aswoon; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A popular exaggeration. See vol. i. 117
2 Lit. Empty of tent-ropes (Atnáb).
3 Arab. “‘Abír,” a fragrant powder sprinkled on face, body and clothes. In India it is composed of rice flower or powdered bark of the mango, Deodar (uvaria longifolia), Sandalwood, lign-aloes or curcuma (zerumbat or zedoaria) with rose-flowers, camphor, civet and anise-seed. There are many of these powders: see in Herklots Chiksá, Phul, Ood, Sundul, Uggur, and Urgujja.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Masrur saw the vision of Zayn al-Mawasif and felt her embrace, he joyed with passing joy. As soon as he awoke he sought her house, but finding it empty and void he fell down a-swoon; and when he came to himself, he recited these couplets,
“Fro’ them inhale I scent of Ottar and of Bán;
So fare with heart which ecstasies of love unman:
I’d heal thy longings (love-sick lover!) by return
To site of beauty void sans friend or mate to scan:
But still it sickeneth me with parting’s ban and bane
Minding mine olden plight with friend and partisan.”
When he had made an end of these verses, he heard a raven croak beside the house and wept, saying, “Glory be to God! The raven croaketh not save over a ruined homestead.” Then he moaned and groaned and recited these couplets,
“What ails the Raven that he croaks my lover’s house hard by,
And in my vitals lights a fire that flameth fierce and high?
For times now past and gone I spent in joyance of their love
With love my heart hath gone to waste and I sore pain aby:
I die of longing love and lowe still in my liver raging
And wrote to her but none there is who with the writ may hie:
Ah well-away for wasted frame! Hath farèd forth my friend
And if she will o’ nights return Oh would that thing wot I!
Then, Ho thou Breeze of East, and thou by morn e’er visit her;
Greet her from me and stand where doth her tribe encampèd lie!”
Now Zayn al-Mawasif had a sister, by name Nasím — the Zephyr — who stood espying him from a high place; and when she saw him in this plight, she wept and sighed and recited these couplets,
“How oft bewailing the place shall be this coming and going,
While the House bemoaneth its builder with tear-flood ever a-flowing?
Here was bestest joy ere fared my friend with the caravan hieing
And its dwellers and brightest-suns1 ne’er ceased in its walls a-glowing:
Where be those fullest moons that here were always arising?
Bedimmed them the Shafts of Days their charms of spirit unknowing:
Leave then what is past of the Fair thou wast ever with love espying
And look; for haply the days may restore them without foreshowing:
For hadst thou not been, its dwellers had never departed flying
Nor haddest thou seen the Crow with ill-omened croak a-crying.”
Masrur wept sore hearing these verses and apprehending their significance. Now Nasim knew that which was between him and her sister of love and longing, ecstasy and passion; so she said to him, “Allah upon thee, O Masrur, away from this house, lest any see thee and deem thou comest on my account! Indeed thou hast caused my sister quit it and now thou wouldst drive me also away. Thou knowest that, but for thee, the house would not now be void of its dwellers: so be consoled for her loss and leave her: what is past is past.” When he heard this, he wept bitterly and said to her, “O Nasim, if I could, I should fly for longing after her; so how can I be comforted for her?” Quoth she, “Thou hast no device save patience;” and quoth he, “I beseech thee, for Allah’s sake, write me a writ to her, as from thyself, and get me an answer from her, to comfort my heart and quench the fire in my vitals.” She replied, “With love and gladness,” and took inkcase and paper, whilst Masrur began to set out to her the violence of his longing and what tortures he suffered for the anguish of severance, saying,
the bereaved, the woeful
with whom no peace can stay
nor by night nor by day
but he weepeth copious tears alway.
Indeed, tears his eyelids have ulcerated
and his sorrows have kindled in his liver a fire unsated.
His lamentation is lengthened
and restlessness is strengthened
and he is as he were
a bird unmated
While for sudden death he awaiteth
Alas, my desolation for the loss of thee
and alas, my yearning affliction for the companionship of thee!
Indeed, emaciation hath wasted my frame
and my tears a torrent became
mountains and plains are straitened upon me for grame
and of the excess of my distress, I go saying,
“Still cleaves to this homestead mine ecstasy,
And redoubled pine for its dwellers I dree;
And I send to your quarters the tale of my love
And the cup of your love gave the Cup-boy to me.
And for faring of you and your farness from home
My wounded lids are from tears ne’er free:
O thou leader of litters, turn back with my love
For my heart redoubleth its ardency:
Greet my love and say him that naught except
Those brown-red lips deals me remedy:
They bore him away and our union rent
And my vitals with Severance-shaft shot he:
My love, my lowe and my longing to him
Convey, for of parting no cure I see:
I swear an oath by your love that I
Will keep pact and covenant faithfully,
To none I’ll incline or forget your love
How shall love-sick lover forgetful be?
So with you be the peace and my greeting fair
In letters that perfume of musk-pod bear.”
Her sister Nasim admired his eloquence of tongue and the goodliness of his speech and the elegance of the verses he sang, and was moved to ruth for him. So she sealed the letter with virgin musk and incensed it with Nadd-scent and ambergris, after which she committed it to a certain of the merchants saying, “Deliver it not to any save to Zayn al-Mawasif or to her handmaid Hubub.” Now when the letter reached her sister, she knew it for Masrur’s dictation and recognised himself in the grace of its expression. So she kissed it and laid it on her eyes, whilst the tears streamed from her lids and she gave not over weeping, till she fainted. As soon as she came to herself, she called for pencase and paper and wrote him the following answer; complaining the while of her desire and love-longing and ecstasy and what was hers to endure of pining for her lover and yearning to him and the passion she had conceived for him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. fair faced boys and women. These lines are from the Bresl. Edit. x. 160.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Zayn al-Mawasif wrote the following reply to Masrur’s missive:
“This letter to my lord and master I indite
the king of my heart and my secret sprite
Indeed, wakefulness agitateth me
and melancholy increaseth on me
and I have no patience to endure the absence of thee
O thou who excellest sun and moon in brilliancy
Desire of repose despoileth me
and passion destroyeth me
and how should it be otherwise with me,
seeing that I am of the number of the dying?
O glory of the world and Ornament of life,
she whose vital spirits are cut off
shall her cup be sweet to quaff?
For that she is neither with the quick nor with the dead.”
And she improvised these couplets and said,
“Thy writ, O Masrúr, stirred my sprite to pine
For by Allah, all patience and solace I tyne:
When I read thy scripture, my vitals yearned
And watered the herbs of the wold these eyne.
On Night’s wings I’d fly an a bird
And sans thee I weet not the sweets of wine:
Life’s unlawful to me since thou faredst far
To bear parting- lowe is no force of mine.”
Then she sprinkled the letter with powder of musk and ambergris and, having sealed it with her signet, committed it to a merchant, saying, “Deliver it to none save to my sister.” When it reached Nasim she sent it to Masrur, who kissed it and laid it on his eyes and wept till he fell into a trance. Such was their case; but as regards the Jew, he presently heard of their correspondence and began again to travel from place to place with Zayn al-Mawasif and her damsels, till she said to him, “Glory to God! How long wilt thou fare with us and bear us afar from our homes?” Quoth he, “I will fare on with you a year’s journey, so no more letters may reach you from Masrur. I see how you take all my monies and give them to him; so all that I miss I shall recover from you: and I shall see if Masrur will profit you or have power to deliver you from my hand.” Then he repaired to a blacksmith, after stripping her and her damsels of their silken apparel and clothing them in raiment of hair-cloth, and bade him make three pairs of iron shackles. When they were ready, he brought the smith in to his wife, having said to him, “Put the shackles on the legs of these three slave-girls.” The first that came forward was Zayn al-Mawasif, and when the blacksmith saw her, his sense forsook him and he bit his finger tips and his wit fled forth his head and his transport grew sore upon him. So he said to the Jew, “What is the crime of these damsels?” Replied the other, “They are my slave-girls, and have stolen my good and fled from me.” Cried the smith, “Allah disappoint thy jealous whims! By the Almighty, were this girl before the Kazi of Kazis,1 he would not even reprove her, though she committed a thousand crimes a day. Indeed, she showeth not thief’s favour and she cannot brook the laying of irons on her legs.” And he asked him as a boon not to fetter her, interceding with him to forbear the shackles. When she saw the blacksmith taking her part in this wise she said to her husband, “I conjure thee, by Allah, bring me not forth before yonder strange man!” Said he, “Why then camest thou forth before Masrur?”; and she made him no reply. Then he accepted the smith’s intercession, so far as to allow him to put a light pair of irons on her legs, for that she had a delicate body, which might not brook harsh usage, whilst he laid her handmaids in heavy bilboes, and they ceased not, all three, to wear hair-cloth night and day till their bodies became wasted and their colour changed. As for the blacksmith, exceeding love had fallen on his heart for Zayn al-Mawasif; so he returned home in great concern and he fell to reciting extempore these couplets,
“Wither thy right, O smith, which made her bear
Those iron chains her hands and feet to wear!
Thou hast ensoiled a lady soft and bright,
Marvel of marvels, fairest of the fair:
Hadst thou been just, those anklets ne’er had been
Of iron: nay of purest gold they were:
By Allah! did the Kázis’ Kázi sight
Her charms, he’d seat her in the highest chair.”
Now it chanced that the Kazi of Kazis passed by the smith’s house and heard him improvise these lines; so he sent for him and as soon as he saw him said to him, “O blacksmith, who is she on whom thou callest so instantly and eloquently and with whose love thy heart is full filled?” The smith sprang to his feet and kissing the Judge’s hand, answered, “Allah prolong the days of our lord the Kazi and ample his life!” Then he described to him Zayn al-Mawasif’s beauty and loveliness, brilliancy and perfection, and symmetry and grace and how she was lovely faced and had a slender waist and heavily based; and acquainted him with the sorry plight wherein she was for abasement and durance vile and lack of victual. When the Kazi heard this, he said, “O blacksmith, send her to us and show her that we may do her justice, for thou art become accountable for the damsel and unless thou guide her to us, Allah will punish thee at the Day of Doom.” “I hear and obey,” replied the smith and betook himself without stay and delay to Zayn al-Mawasif’s lodging, but found the door barred and heard a voice of plaintive tone that came from heart forlorn and lone; and it was Zayn al-Mawasif reciting these couplets,
“I and my love in union were unite;
And filled my friend to me cups clearly bright
Between us reigned high mirth and jollity,
Nor Eve nor Morn brought ‘noyance or affright
Indeed we spent most joyous time, with cup
And lute and dulcimer to add delight,
Till Time estranged our fair companionship;
My lover went and blessing turned to blight.
Ah would the Severance-raven’s croak were stilled
And Union-dawn of Love show blessèd light!”
When the blacksmith heard this, he wept like the weeping of the clouds. Then he knocked at the door and the women said, “Who is at the door?” Answered he, “’Tis I, the blacksmith,” and told them what the Kazi had said and how he would have them appear before him and make their complaint to him, that he might do them justice on their adversary. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 i.e. the Chief Kazi. For the origin of the Office and title see vol. ii. 90, and for the Kazi al-Arab who administers justice among the Badawin see Pilgrimage iii. 45.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the blacksmith told Zayn al-Mawasif what the Kazi had said, and how he summoned them that he might apply the Lex Talionis to their adversary, she rejoined, “How can we go to him, seeing the door is locked on us and our feet shackled and the Jew hath the keys?” The smith replied, “I will make the keys for the padlocks and therewith open door and shackles.” Asked she, “But who will show us the Kazi’s house?”; and he answered, “I will describe it to you.” She enquired, “But how can we appear before him, clad as we are in haircloth reeking with sulphur?” And the smith rejoined, “The Kazi will not reproach this to you, considering your case.” So saying, he went forthright and made keys for the padlocks, wherewith he opened the door and the shackles, and loosing the irons from their legs, carried them forth and guided them to the Kazi’s mansion. Then Hubub did off the hair-cloth garments from her lady’s body and carried her to the Hammam, where she bathed her and attired her in silken raiment, and her colour returned to her. Now it happened, by exceeding good fortune, that her husband was abroad at a bride-feast in the house of one of the merchants; so Zayn al-Mawasif, the Adornment of Qualities, adorned herself with the fairest ornaments and repaired to the Kazi, who at once on espying her rose to receive her. She saluted him with softest speech and winsomest words, shooting him through the vitals the while with the shafts of her glances, and said, “May Allah prolong the life of our lord the Kazi and strengthen him to judge between man and man!” Then she acquainted him with the affair of the blacksmith and how he had done nobly by them, whenas the Jew had inflicted on her and her women heart-confounding torments; and how his victims deathwards he drave, nor was there any found to save. “O damsel,” quoth the Kazi, “what is thy name?” “My name is Zayn al Mawasif — Adomment of Qualities — and this my handmaid’s name is Hubub.” “Thy name accordeth with the named and its sound conformeth with its sense.” Whereupon she smiled and veiled her face, and he said to her, “O Zayn al-Mawasif, hast thou a husband or not?” “I have no husband”; “And what Is thy Faith?” “That of Al–Islam, and the religion of the Best Of Men.” “Swear to me by Holy Law replete with signs and instances that thou ownest the creed of the Best of Mankind.” So she swore to him and pronounced the profession of the Faith. Then asked the Kazi, “How cometh it that thou wastest thy youth with this Jew?” And she answered, “Know, O Kazi (may Allah prolong thy days in contentment and bring thee to thy will and thine acts with benefits seal!), that my father left me, after his death, fifteen thousand dinars, which he placed in the hands of this Jew, that he might trade therewith and share his gains with me, the head of the property1 being secured by legal acknowledgment. When my father died, the Jew coveted me and sought me in marriage of my mother, who said, ‘How shall I drive her from her Faith and cause to become a Jewess? By Allah, I will denounce thee to the rulers!’ He was affrighted at her words and taking the money, fled to the town of Adan.2 When we heard where he was, we came to Adan in search of him, and when we foregathered with him there, he told us that he was trading in stuffs with the monies and buying goods upon goods. So we believed him and he ceased not to cozen us till he cast us into jail and fettered us and tortured us with exceeding sore torments; and we are strangers in the land and have no helper save Almighty Allah and our lord the Kazi.” When the judge heard this tale he asked Hubub the nurse, “Is this indeed thy lady and are ye strangers and is she unmarried?”, and she answered, “Yes.” Quoth he, “Marry her to me and on me be incumbent manumission of my slaves and fasting and pilgrimage and almsgiving of all my good an I do you not justice on this dog and punish him for that he hath done!” And quoth she, “I hear and obey.” Then said the Kazi, “Go, hearten thy heart and that of thy lady; and to-morrow, Inshallah, I will send for this miscreant and do you justice on him and ye shall see prodigies of his punishment.” So Hubub called down blessings upon him and went forth from him with her mistress, leaving him with passion and love-longing fraught and with distress and desire distraught. Then they enquired for the house of the second Kazi and presenting themselves before him, told him the same tale. On like wise did the twain, mistress and maid with the third and the fourth, till Zayn al-Mawasif had made her complaint to all the four Kazis, each of whom fell in love with her and besought her to wed him, to which she consented with a “Yes”; nor wist any one of the four that which had happened to the others. All this passed without the knowledge of the Jew, who spent the night in the house of the bridefeast. And when morning morrowed, Hubub arose and gat ready her lady’s richest raiment; then she clad her therewith and presented herself with her before the four Kazis in the court of justice. As soon as she entered, she veiled her face and saluted the judges, who returned her salam and each and every of them recognised her. One was writing, and the reed-pen dropped from his hand, another was talking, and his tongue became tied, and a third was reckoning and blundered in his reckoning; and they said to her, “O admirable of attributes and singular among beauties! be not thy heart other than hearty, for we will assuredly do thee justice and bring thee to thy desire.” So she called down blessings on them and farewelled them and went her ways. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Raas al-Mál”=capital, as opposed to Ribá or Ribh=interest. This legal expression has been adopted by all Moslem races.
2 Our Aden which is thus noticed by Abulfeda (A.D. 1331):
“Aden in the lowlands of Tehámah also called Abyana from a man (who found it?), built upon the seashore, a station (for land travellers) and a sailing-place for merchant ships India-bound, is dry and sunparcht (Kashifah, squalid, scorbutic) and sweet water must be imported. It lies 86 parasangs from San’á but Ibn Haukal following the travellers makes it three stages. The city, built on the skirt of a wall-like mountain, has a watergate and a landgate known as Bab al-Sákayn. But ‘Adan Lá‘ah (the modest, the timid, the less known as opposed to Abyan, the better known?) is a city in the mountains of Sabir, Al–Yaman, whence issued the supporters of the Fatimite Caliphs of Egypt.”
‘Adan etymologically means in Arab. and Heb. pleasure ( ), Eden (the garden), the Heaven in which spirits will see Allah and our “Coal-hole of the East,” which we can hardly believe ever to have been an Eden. Mr. Badger who supplied me with this note described the two Adens in a paper in Ocean Highways, which he cannot now find. In the ‘Ajáib al-Makhlúkát, Al–Kazwíni (ob. A.D. 1275) derives the name from Ibn Sinán bin Ibrahím; and is inclined there to place the Bír al-Mu’attal (abandoned well) and the Kasr alMashíd (lofty palace) of Koran xxii. 44; and he adds “Kasr al-Misyad” to those mentioned in the tale of Sayf al-Mulúk and Badí‘a al-Jamál.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Kazis said to Zayn al-Mawasif, “O admirable of attributes and singular among beauties! Be not thy heart other than hearty for our doing thy desire and thy winning to thy will.” So she called down blessings on them and farewelled them and went her ways, the while her husband abode with his friends at the marriage-banquet and knew naught of her doings. Then she proceeded to beseech the notaries and scribes and the notables and the Chiefs of Police to succour her against that unbelieving miscreant and deliver her from the torment she suffered from him. Then she wept with sore weeping and improvised these couplets,
“Rain showers of torrent tears, O Eyne and see
An they will quench the fires that flame in me:
After my robes of gold-embroidered silk
I wake to wear the frieze of monkery:
And all my raiment reeks of sulphur-fumes
When erst my shift shed musky fragrancy:
And hadst thou, O Masrúr, my case descried,
Ne’er hadst thou borne my shame and ignomy.
And eke Hubúb in iron chains is laid
By Miscreant who unknows God’s Unity.
The creed of Jewry I renounce and home,
The Moslem’s Faith accepting faithfully
Eastwards1 I prostrate self in fairest guise
Holding the only True Belief that be:
Masrúr! forget not love between us twain
And keep our vows and troth with goodly gree:
I’ve changed my faith for sake of thee, and I
For stress of love will cleave to secrecy:
So haste to us, an us in heart thou bear,
As noble spirit, nor as laggard fare.”
After this she wrote a letter to Masrur, describing to him all that the Jew had done with her from first to last and enclosed the verses aforesaid. Then she folded the scroll and gave it to her maid Hubub, saying, “Keep this in thy pocket, till we send it to Masrur.” Upon these doings lo and behold! in came the Jew and seeing them joyous, said to them, “How cometh it that I find you merry? Say me, hath a letter reached you from your bosom friend Masrur?” Replied Zayn al-Mawasif, “We have no helper against thee save Allah, extolled and exalted be He! He will deliver us from thy tyranny, and except thou restore us to our birth-place and homestead, we will complain of thee tomorrow to the Governor of this town and to the Kazi.” Quoth he, “Who struck off the shackles from your legs? But needs must I let make for each of you fetters ten pounds in weight and go round about the city with you.” Replied Hubub, “All that thou purposest against us thou shall fall into thyself, so it please Allah the Most High, by token that thou hast exiled us from our homes, and to-morrow we shall stand, we and thou, before the Governor of the city.” They nighted on this wise and next morning the Jew rose up in haste and went out to order new shackles, whereupon Zayn al-Mawasif arose and repaired with her women to the court-house, where she found the four Kazis and saluted them. They all returned her salutation and the Kazi of Kazis said to those about him, “Verily this damsel is lovely as the Venus-star2 and all who see her love her and bow before her beauty and loveliness.” Then he despatched four sergeants, who were Sharífs,3 saying, “Bring ye the criminal after abjectest fashion.” So, when the Jew returned with the shackles and found none in the house, he was confounded; but, as he abode in perplexity, suddenly up came the officers and laying hold of him beat him with a sore beating and dragged him face downwards before the Kazi. When the judge saw him, he cried out in his face and said to him, “Woe to thee, O foe of God, is it come to such a pass with thee that thou doest the deed thou hast done and bringest these women far from their country and stealest their monies and wouldst make them Jews? How durst thou seek to make miscreants of Moslems?” Answered the Jew, “O my lord this woman is my wife.” Now when the Kazis heard this, they all cried out, saying, “Throw this hound on the ground and come down on his face with your sandals and beat him with sore blows, for his offence is unpardonable.” So they pulled off his silken gear and clad him in his wife’s raiment of hair-cloth, after which they threw him down and plucked out his beard and belaboured him about the face with sandals. Then they sat him on an ass, face to crupper, arsi-versy, and making him take its tail in his hand, paraded him round about the city, ringing the bell before him in every street; after which they brought him back to the judges in sorriest plight; and the four Kazis with one voice condemned him to have his feet and hands cut off and lastly to be crucified. When the accursed heard this sentence his sense forsook him and he was confounded and said, “O my lords the Kazis, what would ye of me?” They replied, “Say thou, ‘This damsel is not my wife and the monies are her monies, and I have transgressed against her and brought her far from her country.’” So he confessed to this and the Kazis recorded his confession in legal form and taking the money from him, gave it to Zayn al-Mawasif, together with the document. Then she went away and all who saw her were confounded at her beauty and loveliness, whilst each of the Kazis looked for her committing herself to him. But, when she came to her lodging, she made ready all matters she needed and waited till night. Then she took what was light of load and weighty of worth, and setting out with her maids under cover of the murks three days with their nights fared on without stopping. Thus it was with her; but as regards the Kazis they ordered the Jew to prison. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Meaning that she had been carried to the Westward of Meccah.
2 Arab. “Zahrawíyah” which contains a kind of double entendre. Fátimah the Prophet’s only daughter is entitled Al–Zahrá the “bright-blooming”; and this is also an epithet of Zohrah the planet Venus. For Fatimah see vol. vi. 145. Of her Mohammed said, “Love your daughters, for I too am a father of daughters” and, “Love them, they are the comforters, the dearlings.” The Lady appears in Moslem history a dreary young woman (died æt. 28) who made this world, like Honorius, a hell in order to win a next-world heaven. Her titles are Zahrá and Batúl (Pilgrimage ii. 90) both signifying virgin. Burckhardt translates Zahrá by “bright blooming” (the etymological sense): it denotes literally a girl who has not menstruated, in which state of purity the Prophet’s daughter is said to have lived and died. “Batúl” has the sense of a “clean maid” and is the title given by Eastern Christians to the Virgin Mary. The perpetual virginity of Fatimah even after motherhood (Hasan and Husayn) is a point of orthodoxy in Al–Islam as Juno’s with the Romans and Umá‘s with the Hindú worshippers of Shiva. During her life Mohammed would not allow Ali a second wife, and he held her one of the four perfects, the other three being Asia wife of “Pharaoh,” the Virgin Mary and Khadijah his own wife. She caused much scandal after his death by declaring that he had left her the Fadak estate (Abulfeda I, 133, 273) a castle with a fine palmorchard near Khaybar. Abu Bakr dismissed the claim quoting the Apostle’s Hadis, “We prophets are folk who will away nothing: what we leave is alms-gift to the poor,” and Shí‘ahs greatly resent his decision. (See Dabistan iii. 51–52 for a different rendering of the words.) I have given the popular version of the Lady Fatimah’s death and burial (Pilgrimage ii. 315) and have remarked that Moslem historians delight in the obscurity which hangs over her last resting-place, as if it were an honour even for the receptacle of her ashes to be concealed from the eyes of men. Her repute is a curious comment on Tom Hood’s
“Where woman has never a soul to save.”
3 For Sharif and Sayyid, descendants of Mohammed, see vol. iv. 170.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Kazis ordered the Jew to prison and on the morrow they looked for Zayn al-Mawasif coming to them, they and their assessors; but she presented herself not to any of them. Then said the Chief Kazi, “I wish to-day to make an excursion without the town on business there.” So he mounted his she-mule and taking his page with him, went winding about the streets of the town, searching its length and width for Zayn al-Mawasif, but never finding her. On this errand he came upon the other three Kazis, going about on the same, each deeming himself the only one to whom she had given tryst. He asked them whither they were riding and why they were going about the streets; when they told him their business, whereby he saw that their plight was as his plight and their quest as his quest. So they all four rode throughout the city, seeking her, but could hit on no trace of her and returned to their houses, sick for love, and lay down on the bed of langour. Presently the Chief Kazi bethought himself of the blacksmith; so he sent for him and said to him, “O blacksmith, knowest thou aught of the damsel whom thou didst direct to me? By Allah, an thou discover her not to me, I will whack thee with whips.” Now when the smith heard this, he recited these couplets1,
“She who my all of love by love of her hath won
Owns every Beauty and for others leaves she none:
She gazes, a gazelle; she breathes, fresh ambergris
She waves, a lake; she sways, a bough; she shines, a Sun.”
Then said the blacksmith, “By Allah, O my lord, since she fared forth from thy worshipful presence,2 I have not set eyes on her; no, not once. Indeed she took possession of my heart and wits and all my talk and thoughts are of her. I went to her lodging but found her not, nor found I any who could give me news of her, and it is as if she had dived into the depths of the sea or had ascended to the sky.” Now when the Kazi heard this, he groaned a groan, that his soul was like to depart therefor, and he said, “By Allah, well it were had we never seen her!” Then the smith went away, whilst the Kazi fell down on his bed and became sick of langour for her sake, and on like wise fared it with the other three Kazis and assessors. The mediciners paid them frequent calls, but found in them no ailment requiring a leach: so the city-notables went in to the Chief Kazi and saluting him, questioned him of his case; whereupon he sighed and showed them that was in his heart, reciting these couplets,
“Stint ye this blame; enough I suffer from Love’s malady
Nor chide the Kazi frail who fain must deal to folk decree!
Who doth accuse my love let him for me find some excuse:
Nor blame; for lovers blameless are in lover-slavery!
I was a Kázi whom my Fate deigned aid with choicest aid
By writ and reed and raisèd me to wealth and high degree;
Till I was shot by sharpest shaft that knows nor leach nor cure
By Damsel’s glance who came to spill my blood and murther me.
To me came she, a Moslemah and of her wrongs she ‘plained
With lips that oped on Orient-pearls ranged fair and orderly:
I looked beneath her veil and saw a wending moon at full
Rising below the wings of Night engloomed with blackest blee:
A brightest favour and a mouth bedight with wondrous smiles;
Beauty had brought the loveliest garb and robed her cap-à-pie.
By Allah, ne’er beheld my eyes a face so ferly fair
Amid mankind whoever are, Arab or Ajamí.
My Fair! What promise didst thou make what time to me thou said’st
‘Whenas I promise I perform, O Kazi, faithfully.’
Such is my stead and such my case calamitous and dire
And ask me not, ye men of spunk, what dreadful teen I dree.”
When he ended his verse he wept with sore weeping and sobbed one sob and his spirit departed his body, which seeing they washed him and shrouded him and prayed over him and buried him graving on his tomb these couplets,
“Perfect were lover’s qualities in him was brought a-morn,
Slain by his love and his beloved, to this untimely grave:
Kázi was he amid the folk, and aye ’twas his delight
To foster all the folk and keep a-sheath the Justice-glaive:
Love caused his doom and ne’er we saw among mankind before
The lord and master louting low before his thrallèd slave.”
Then they committed him to the mercy of Allah and went away to the second Kazi, in company with the physician, but found in him nor injury nor ailment needing a leach. Accordingly they questioned him of his case and what preoccupied him; so he told them what ailed him, whereupon they blamed him and chid him for his predicament and he answered them with these couplets,
“Blighted by her yet am I not to blame;
Struck by the dart at me her fair hand threw.
Unto me came a woman called Hubúb
Chiding the world from year to year anew:
And brought a damsel showing face that shamed
Full moon that sails through Night-tide’s blackest hue,
She showed her beauties and she ‘plained her plain
Which tears in torrents from her eyelids drew:
I to her words gave ear and gazed on her
Whenas with smiling lips she made me rue.
Then with my heart she fared where’er she fared
And left me pledged to sorrows soul subdue.
Such is my tale! So pity ye my case
And this my page with Kazi’s gear indue.”
Then he sobbed one sob and his soul fled his flesh; whereupon they gat ready his funeral and buried him commending him to the mercy of Allah; after which they repaired to the third Kazi and the fourth, and there befel them the like of what befel their brethren.3 Furthermore, they found the Assessors also sick for love of her, and indeed all who saw her died of her love or, an they died not, lived on tortured with the lowe of passion. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These lines have occurred with variants in vol. iii. 257, and iv. 50.
2 Arab. “Hazrat,” esp. used in India and corresponding with our mediæval “præsentia vostra.”
3 This wholesale slaughter by the tale-teller of worshipful and reverend men would bring down the gallery like a Spanish tragedy in which all the actors are killed.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the city folk found all the Kazis and the Assessors sick for love of her, and all who saw her died lovesick or, an they died not, lived on tortured with the lowe of passion for stress of pining to no purpose — Allah have mercy on them one and all! Meanwhile Zayn al-Mawasif and her women drave on with all diligence till they were far distant from the city and it so fortuned that they came to a convent by the way, wherein dwelt a Prior called Danis and forty monks.1 When the Prior saw her beauty, he went out to her and invited her to alight, saying, “Rest with us ten days and after wend your ways.” So she and her damsels alighted and entered the convent; and when Danis saw her beauty and loveliness, she debauched his belief and he was seduced by her: wherefore he fell to sending the monks, one after other with love-messages; but each who saw her fell in love with her and sought her favours for himself, whilst she excused and denied herself to them. But Danis ceased not his importunities till he had dispatched all the forty, each one of whom fell love-sick at first sight and plied her with blandishments never even naming Danis; whilst she refused and rebuffed them with harsh replies. At last when Danis’s patience was at an end and his passion was sore on him, he said in himself, “Verily, the sooth-sayer saith, ‘Naught scratcheth my skin but my own nail and naught like my own feet for mine errand may avail.’” So up he rose and made ready rich meats, and it was the ninth day of her sojourn in the convent where she had purposed only to rest. Then he carried them in to her and set them before her, saying, “Bismillah, favour us by tasting the best of the food at our command.” So she put forth her hand, saying, “For the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate!” and ate, she and her handmaidens. When she had made an end of eating, he said to her, “O my lady, I wish to recite to thee some verses.” Quoth she, “Say on,” and he recited these couplets,
“Thou hast won my heart by cheek and eye of thee,
I’ll praise for love in prose and poesy.
Wilt fly a lover, love-sick, love-distraught
Who strives in dreams some cure of love to see?
Leave me not fallen, passion-fooled, since I
For pine have left uncared the Monast’ry:
O Fairest, ’tis thy right to shed my blood,
So rue my case and hear the cry of me!”
When Zayn al-Mawasif heard his verses, she answered him with these two couplets,
“O who suest Union, ne’er hope such delight
Nor solicit my favours, O hapless wight!
Cease to hanker for what thou canst never have:
Next door are the greedy to sore despight.”
Hearing this he returned to his place, pondering in himself and knowing not how he should do in her affair, and passed the night in the sorriest plight. But, as soon as the darkness was darkest Zayn al-Mawasif arose and said to her handmaids, “Come, let us away, for we cannot avail against forty men, monks, each of whom requireth me for himself.” Quoth they, “Right willingly!” So they mounted their beasts and issued forth the convent gate — Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 They are called indifferently “Ruhbán”=monks or “Batárikah”=patriarchs. See vol. ii. 89.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Zayn al-Mawasif and her handmaids issued forth the convent gate and, under favour of the night, rode on till they overtook a caravan, with which they mingled and found it came from the city of ‘Adan wherein the lady had dwelt. Presently, Zayn al-Mawasif heard the people of the caravan discoursing of her own case and telling how the Kazis and Assessors were dead of love for her and how the townsfolk had appointed in their stead others who released her husband from prison. Whereupon she turned to her maids and asked them, “Heard ye that?”; and Hubub answered, “If the monks were ravished with love of thee, whose belief it is that shunning women is worship, how should it be with the Kazis, who hold that there is no monkery in Al–Islam? But let us make our way to our own country, whilst our affair is yet hidden.” So they drave on with all diligence. Such was their case; but as regards the monks, on the morrow, as soon as it was day they repaired to Zayn al-Mawasif’s lodging, to salute her, but found the place empty, and their hearts sickened within them. So the first monk rent his raiment and improvised these couplets,
“Ho ye, my friends, draw near, for I forthright
From you depart, since parting is my lot:
My vitals suffer pangs o’ fiery love;
Flames of desire in heart burn high and hot,
For sake of fairest girl who sought our land
Whose charms th’ horizon’s full moon evens not.
She fared and left me victimed by her love
And slain by shaft those lids death-dealing shot.”
Then another monk recited the following couplets,
“O ye who with my vitals fled, have ruth
On this unhappy: haste ye homeward-bound:
They fared, and fared fair Peace on farthest track
Yet lingers in mine ear that sweetest sound:
Fared far, and far their fane; would Heaven I saw
Their shade in vision float my couch around:
And when they went wi’ them they bore my heart
And in my tear-floods all of me left drowned.”
A third monk followed with these extempore lines,
“Throne you on highmost stead, heart, ears and sight
Your wone’s my heart; mine all’s your dwelling-site:
Sweeter than honey is your name a-lip,
Running, as ‘neath my ribs runs vital sprite:
For Love hath made me as a tooth-pick1 lean
And drowned in tears of sorrow and despight:
Let me but see you in my sleep, belike
Shall clear my cheeks of tears that lovely sight.”
Then a fourth recited the following couplets,
“Dumb is my tongue and scant my speech for thee
And Love the direst torture gars me dree:
O thou full Moon, whose place is highest Heaven,
For thee but double pine and pain in me.”
And a fifth these,2
“I love a moon of comely shapely form
Whose slender waist hath title to complain:
Whose lip-dews rival must and long-kept wine;
Whose heavy haunches haunt the minds of men:
My heart each morning burns with pain and pine
And the night-talkers note I’m passion-slain;
While down my cheeks carnelian-like the tears
Of rosy red shower down like railing rain.”
And a sixth the following,
“O thou who shunnest him thy love misled!
O Branch of Bán, O star of highmost stead!
To thee of pine and passion I complain,
O thou who fired me with cheeks rosyred.
Did e’er such lover lose his soul for thee,
Or from prostration and from prayers fled?”
And a seventh these,
“He seized my heart and freed my tears to flow
Brought strength to Love and bade my Patience go.
His charms are sweet as bitter his disdain;
And shafts of love his suitors overthrow.
Stint blame, O blamer, and for past repent
None will believe thee who dost Love unknow!”
And on like wise all the rest of the monks shed tears and repeated verses. As for Danis, the Prior, weeping and wailing redoubled on him, for that he found no way to her enjoyment, and he chanted the following couplets3,
“My patience failed me when my lover went
And fled that day mine aim and best intent.
O Guide o’ litters lead their camels fair,
Haply some day they’ll deign with me to tent!
On parting-day Sleep parted from my lids
And grew my grieving and my joy was shent.
I moan to Allah what for Love I dree’d
My wasted body and my forces spent.”
Then, despairing of her, they took counsel together and with one mind agreed to fashion her image and set it up with them, and applied themselves to this till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and Severer of societies. Meanwhile, Zayn al-Mawasif fared on, without ceasing, to find her lover Masrur, till she reached her own house. She opened the doors, and entered; then she sent to her sister Nasim, who rejoiced with exceeding joy at the news of her return and brought her the furniture and precious stuffs left in her charge. So she furnished the house and dressed it, hanging the curtains over the doors and burning aloes-wood and musk and ambergris and other essences till the whole place recked with the most delightful perfumes: after which the Adornment of Qualities donned her finest dress and decorations and sat talking with her maids, whom she had left behind when journeying, and related to them all that had befallen her first and last. Then she turned to Hubub and giving her dirhams, bade her fetch them something to eat. So she brought meat and drink and when they had made an end of eating and drinking,4 Zayn al-Mawasif bade Hubub go and see where Masrur was and how it fared with him. Now he knew not of her return; but abode with concern overcast and sorrow might not be overpast; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Khilál.” The toothpick, more esteemed by the Arabs than by us, is, I have said, often used by the poets as an emblem of attenuation without offending good taste. Nizami (Layla u Majnún) describes a lover as “thin as a toothpick.” The “elegant” Hariri (Ass. of Barkaid) describes a toothpick with feminine attributes, “shapely of shape, attractive, provocative of appetite, delicate as the leanest of lovers, polished as a poinard and bending as a green bough.”
2 From Bresl. Edit. x. 194.
3 Trébutien (vol. ii. 344 et seq.) makes the seven monks sing as many anthems, viz. (1) Congregamini; (2) Vias tuas demonstra mihi; (3) Dominus illuminatis; (4) Custodi linguam; (5) Unam petii a Domino; (6) Nec adspiciat me visus, and (7) Turbatus est a furore oculus meus. Dánis the Abbot chaunts Anima mea turbata est valdè.
4 A neat and characteristic touch: the wilful beauty eats and drinks before she thinks of her lover. Alas for Masrur married.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Zayn al-Mawasif entered her house she was met by her sister Nasim who brought her the furniture and stuffs wherewith she furnished the place; and then she donned her finest dress. But Masrur knew naught of her return and abode with concern overcast and sorrow might not be overpast; no peace prevailed with him nor was patience possible to him. Whenas pine and passion, desire and distraction waxed on him, he would solace himself by reciting verse and go to the house and set him its walls to buss. It chanced that he went out that day to the place where he had parted from his mistress and repeated this rare song,
“My wrongs hide I, withal they show to sight;
And now mine eyes from sleep to wake are dight.
I cry when melancholy tries my sprite
Last not, O world nor work more despight;
Lo hangs my soul ‘twixt hardship and affright.
Were the Sultan hight Love but fair to me,
Slumber mine eyes’ companion were to me,
My Lords, some little mercy spare to me,
Chief of my tribe: be debonnair to me,
Whom Love cast down, erst rich now pauper-wight!
Censors may blame thee but I look beyond
Mine ears I stop and leave their lies unconned
And keep my pact wi’ those I love so fond:
They say, ‘Thou lov’st a runaway!’ I respond,
‘Whist! whenas Fate descends she blinds the sight!’”
Then he returned to his lodging and sat there weeping, till sleep overcame him, when he saw in a dream as if Zayn al-Mawasif were come to the house, and awoke in tears. So he set off to go thither, improvising these couplets,
“Shall I be consoled when Love hath mastered the secret of me
And my heart is aglow with more than the charcoal’s ardency?
I love her whose absence I plain before Allah for parting-stower
And the shifts of the days and doom which allotted me Destiny:
When shall our meeting be, O wish O’ my heart and will?
O favour of fullest Moon, when shall we Re-union see?”
As he made an end of his recitation, he found himself walking adown in Zayn al-Mawasif’s street and smelt the sweet savour of the pastiles wherewithal she had incensed the house; wherefore his vitals fluttered and his heart was like to leave his breast and desire flamed up in him and distraction redoubled upon him; when lo, and behold! Hubub, on her way to do her lady’s errand suddenly appeared at the head of the street and he rejoiced with joy exceeding. When she saw him, she went up to him and saluting him, gave him the glad news of her mistress’s return, saying, “She hath sent me to bid thee to her.” Whereat he was glad indeed, with gladness naught could exceed; and she took him and returned with him to the house. When Zayn al-Mawasif saw him, she came down to him from the couch and kissed him and he kissed her and she embraced him and he embraced her; nor did they leave kissing and embracing till both swooned away for stress of affection and separation. They lay a long while senseless, and when they revived, Zayn al-Mawasif bade Hubub fetch her a gugglet of sherbet of sugar and another of sherbet of lemons. So she brought what she desired and they sat eating and drinking nor ceased before nightfall, when they fell to recalling all that had befallen them from commencement to conclusion. Then she acquainted him with her return to Al–Islam, whereat he rejoiced and he also became a Moslem. On like wise did her women, and they ail repented to Allah Almighty of their infidelity. On the morrow she made send for the Kazi and the witnesses and told them that she was a widow and had completed the purification period and was minded to marry Masrur. So they drew up the wedding-contract between them and they abode in all delight of life. Meanwhile, the Jew, when the people of Adan released him from prison, set out homewards and fared on nor ceased faring till he came within three days’ journey of the city. Now as soon as Zayn al-Mawasif heard of his coming she called for her handmaid Hubub and said to her, “Go to the Jews’ burial-place and there dig a grave and plant on it sweet basil and jessamine and sprinkle water thereabout. If the Jew come and ask thee of me, answer, ‘My mistress died twenty days ago of chagrin on thine account.’ If he say, show me her tomb, take him to the grave and after weeping over it and making moan and lament before him, contrive to cast him therein and bury him alive.”1 And Hubub answered, “I hear and I obey.” Then they laid up the furniture in the store closets, and Zayn al-Mawasif removed to Masrur’s lodging, where he and she abode eating and drinking, till the three days were past; at the end of which the Jew arrived and knocked at the door of his house. Quoth Hubub, “Who’s at the door?”; and quoth he, “Thy master.” So she opened to him and he saw the tears railing down her cheeks and said, “What aileth thee to weep and where is thy mistress?” She replied, “My mistress is dead of chagrin on thine account.” When he heard this, he was perplexed and wept with sore weeping and presently said, “O Hubub, where is her tomb?” So she carried him to the Jews’ burial-ground and showed him the grave she had dug; whereupon he shed bitter tears and recited this pair of couplets,2
“Two things there are, for which if eyes wept tear on tear
Of blood, till they were like indeed to disappear,
They never could fulfil the Tithe of all their due:
And these are prime of youth and loss of loveling dear.”
Then he wept again with bitter tears and recited these also,
“Alack and Alas! Patience taketh flight:
And from parting of friend to sore death I’m dight:
O how woeful this farness from dear one, and oh
How my heart is rent by mine own unright!
Would Heaven my secret I erst had kept
Nor had told the pangs and my liverblight:
I lived in all solace and joyance of life
Till she left and left me in piteous plight:
O Zayn al-Mawasif, I would there were
No parting departing my frame and sprite:
I repent me for troth-breach and blame my guilt
Of unruth to her whereon hopes I built.”
When he had made an end of this verse, he wept and groaned and lamented till he fell down a-swoon, whereupon Hubub made haste to drag him to the grave and throw him in, whilst he was insensible yet quick withal. Then she stopped up the grave on him and returning to her mistress acquainted her with what had passed, whereat she rejoiced with exceeding joy and recited these two couplets,
“The world sware that for ever ‘twould gar me grieve:
Tis false, O world, so thine oath retrieve3!
The blamer is dead and my love’s in my arms:
Rise to herald of joys and tuck high thy sleeve4!”
Then she and Masrur abode each with other in eating and drinking and sport and pleasure and good cheer, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and Sunderer of societies and Slayer of sons and daughters. And I have also heard tell the following tale of
1 The unfortunate Jew, who seems to have been a model husband (Orientally speaking), would find no pity with a coffee-house audience because he had been guilty of marrying a Moslemah. The union was null and void therefore the deliberate murder was neither high nor petty treason. But, The Nights, though their object is to adorn a tale, never deliberately attempt to point a moral and this is one of their many charms.
2 These lines have repeatedly occurred. I quote Mr. Payne.
3 i.e. by the usual expiation. See vol. iii. 136.
4 Arab. “Shammirí”=up and ready!
There was once in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before in the parts of Cairo, a merchant named Táj al-Dín who was of the most considerable of the merchants and of the chiefs of the freeborn. But he was given to travelling everywhere and loved to fare over wild and wold, waterless lowland and stony waste, and to journey to the isles of the seas, in quest of dirhams and dinars: wherefore he had in his time encountered dangers and suffered duresse of the way such as would grizzle little children and turn their black hair grey. He was possessed of black slaves and Mamelukes, eunuchs and concubines, and was the wealthiest of the merchants of his time and the goodliest of them in speech, owning horses and mules and Bactrian camels and dromedaries; sacks great and small of size; goods and merchandise and stuffs such as muslins of Hums, silks and brocades of Ba’allak, cotton of Mery, stuffs of India, gauzes of Baghdad, burnouses of Moorland and Turkish white slaves and Abyssinian castratos and Grecian girls and Egyptian boys; and the coverings of his bales were silk with gold purfled fair, for he was wealthy beyond compare. Furthermore he was rare of comeliness, accomplished in goodliness, and gracious in his kindliness, even as one of his describers doth thus express,
“A merchant I spied whose lovers
Were fighting in furious guise:
Quoth he, ‘Why this turmoil of people?’
Quoth I, ‘Trader, for those fine eyes!’”
And saith another in his praise and saith well enough to accomplish the wish of him,
“Came a merchant to pay us a visit
Whose glance did my heart surprise:
Quoth he, ‘What surprised thee so?’
Quoth I, ‘Trader, ’twas those fine eyes.’”
Now that merchant had a son called Ali Nur al-Din, as he were the full moon whenas it meeteth the sight on its fourteenth night, a marvel of beauty and loveliness, a model of form and symmetrical grace, who was sitting one day as was his wont, in his father’s shop, selling and buying, giving and taking, when the sons of the merchants girt him around and he was amongst them as moon among stars, with brow flower-white and cheeks of rosy light in down the tenderest dight, and body like alabaster-bright even as saith of him the poet,
“‘Describe me!’ a fair one said.
Said I, ‘Thou art Beauty’s queen.’
And, speaking briefest speech,
‘All charms in thee are seen.’”
And as saith of him one of his describers,
“His mole upon plain of cheek is like
Ambergrís-crumb on marble plate,
And his glances likest the sword proclaim
To all Love’s rebels
‘The Lord is Great!’”2
The young merchants invited him saying, “O my lord Nur al-Din, we wish thee to go this day a-pleasuring with us in such a garden.” And he answered, “Wait till I consult my parent, for I cannot go without his consent.” As they were talking, behold, up came Taj al-Din, and his son looked at him and said, “O father mine, the sons of the merchants have invited me to wend a-pleasuring with them in such a garden. Dost thou grant me leave to go?” His father replied, “Yes, O my son, fare with them;” and gave him somewhat of money. So the young men mounted their mules and asses and Nur al-Din mounted a she-mule and rode with them to a garden, wherein was all that sould desireth and that eye charmeth. It was high of walls which from broad base were seen to rise; and it had a gateway vault-wise with a portico like a saloon and a door azure as the skies, as it were one of the gates of Paradise: the name of the door-keeper was Rizwán,3 and over the gate were trained an hundred trellises which grapes overran; and these were of various dyes, the red like coralline, the black like the snouts of Súdán4-men and the white like egg of the pigeon-hen. And in it peach and pomegranate were shown and pear, apricot and pomegranate were grown and fruits with and without stone hanging in clusters or alone — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 I borrow the title from the Bresl. Edit. x. 204. Mr. Payne prefers “Ali Noureddin and the Frank King’s Daughter.” Lane omits also this tale because it resembles Ali Shar and Zumurrud (vol. iv. 187) and Alá al-Din Abu al-Shámát (vol. iv. 29), “neither of which is among the text of the collection.” But he has unconsciously omitted one of the highest interest. Dr. Bacher (Germ. Orient. Soc.) finds the original in Charlemagne’s daughter Emma and his secretary Eginhardt as given in Grimm’s Deutsche Sagen. I shall note the points of resemblance as the tale proceeds. The correspondence with the King of France may be a garbled account of the letters which passed between Harun al-Rashid and Nicephorus, “the Roman dog.”
2 Arab. “Allaho Akbar,” the Moslem slogan or war-cry. See vol. ii. 89.
3 The gate-keeper of Paradise. See vol. iii. 15, 20.
4 Negroes. Vol. iii. 75.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the sons of the merchants entered the vergier, they found therein all that soul desireth or eye charmeth, grapes of many hues grown, hanging in bunches or alone, even as saith of them the poet,
“Grapes tasting with the taste of wine
Whose coats like blackest Raven’s shine:
Their sheen, amid the leafage shows,
Like women’s fingers henna’d fine.”
And as saith another on the same theme,
“Grape-bunches likest as they sway
A-stalk, my body frail and snell:
Honey and water thus in jar,
When sourness past, make Hydromel.”
Then they entered the arbour of the garden and say there Rizwan the gate-keeper sitting, as he were Rizwan the Paradise-guardian, and on the door were written these lines,
“Garth Heaven-watered wherein clusters waved
On boughs which full of sap to bend were fain:
And, when the branches danced on Zephyr’s palm,
The Pleiads shower’d as gifts1 fresh pearls for rain.”
And within the arbour were written these two couplets,
“Come with us, friend, and enter thou
This garth that cleanses rust of grief:
Over their skits the Zephyrs trip2
And flowers in sleeve to laugh are lief.”3
So they entered and found all manner fruits in view and birds of every kind and hue, such as ringdove, nightingale and curlew; and the turtle and the cushat sang their love lays on the sprays. Therein were rills that ran with limpid wave and flowers suave; and bloom for whose perfume we crave and it was even as saith of it the poet in these two couplets,
“The Zephyr breatheth o’er its branches, like
Fair girls that trip as in fair skirts they pace:
Its rills resemble swords in hands of knights
Drawn from the scabbard and containing-case.”4
And again as singeth the songster,
“The streamlet swings by branchy wood and aye
Joys in its breast those beauties to display;
And Zephyr noting this, for jealousy
Hastens and bends the branches other way.”
On the trees of the garden were all manner fruits, each in two sorts, amongst them the pomegranate, as it were a ball of silver-dross,5 whereof saith the poet and saith right well,
“Granados of finest skin, like the breasts
Of maid firm-standing in sight of male;
When I strip the skin, they at once display
The rubies compelling all sense to quail.”
And even as quoth another bard,
“Close prest appear to him who views th’ inside
Red rubies in brocaded skirts bedight:
Granado I compare with marble dome
Or virgin’s breasts delighting every sight:
Therein is cure for every ill as e’en
Left an Hadís the Prophet pure of sprite;
And Allah (glorify His name) eke deigned
A noble say in Holy Book indite.6
The apples were the sugared and the musky and the Dámáni, amazing the beholder, whereof saith Hassan the poet,
“Apple which joins hues twain, and brings to mind
The cheek of lover and beloved combined:
Two wondrous opposites on branch they show
This dark7 and that with hue incarnadined
The twain embraced when spied the spy and turned
This red, that yellow for the shame designed.”8
There also were apricots of various kinds, almond and camphor and Jíláni and ‘Antábi,9 wereof saith the poet,
“And Almond-apricot suggesting swain
Whose lover’s visit all his wits hath ta’en.
Enough of love-sick lovers’ plight it shows
Of face deep yellow and heart torn in twain.”10
And saith another and saith well,
“Look at that Apricot whose bloom contains
Gardens with brightness gladding all men’s eyne:
Like stars the blossoms sparkle when the boughs
Are clad in foliage dight with sheen and shine.”
There likewise were plums and cherries and grapes, that the sick of all diseases assain and do away giddiness and yellow choler from the brain; and figs the branches between, varicoloured red and green, amazing sight and sense, even as saith the poet,
“’Tis as the Figs with clear white skins outthrown
By foliaged trees, athwart whose green they peep,
Were sons of Roum that guard the palace-roof
When shades close in and night-long ward they keep.”11
And saith another and saith well,
“Welcome12 the Fig! To us it comes
Ordered in handsome plates they bring:
Likest a Surfah13-cloth we draw
To shape of bag without a ring.”
And how well saith a third,
“Give me the Fig sweet-flavoured, beauty-clad,
Whose inner beauties rival outer sheen:
And when it fruits thou tastest it to find
Chamomile’s scent and Sugar’s saccharine:
And eke it favoureth on platters poured
Puff-balls of silken thread and sendal green.”
And how excellent is the saying of one of them,
“Quoth they (and I had trained my taste thereto
Nor cared for other fruits whereby they swore),
‘Why lovest so the Fig?’ whereto quoth I
‘Some men love Fig and others Sycamore.14’”
And are yet goodlier those of another,
“Pleaseth me more the fig than every fruit
When ripe and hanging from the sheeny bough;
Like Devotee who, when the clouds pour rain,
Sheds tears and Allah’s power doth avow.”
And in that garth were also pears of various kinds Sinaïtic,15 Aleppine and Grecian growing in clusters and alone, parcel green and parcel golden. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Nakat,” with the double meaning of to spot and to handsel especially dancing and singing women; and, as Mr. Payne notes in this acceptation it is practically equivalent to the English phrase “to mark (or cross) the palm with silver.” I have translated “Anwá” by Pleiads; but it means the setting of one star and simultaneous rising of another foreshowing rain. There are seven Anwá (plur. of nawa) in the Solar year viz. Al–Badri (Sept.-Oct.); Al–Wasmiyy (late autumn and December); Al–Waliyy (to April); Al–Ghamír (June); Al–Busriyy (July); Bárih al-Kayz (August) and Ahrák al-Hawá extending to September 8. These are tokens of approaching rain, metaphorically used by the poets to express “bounty”. See Preston’s Hariri (p. 43) and Chenery upon the Ass. of the Banu Haram.
2 i.e. They trip and stumble in their hurry to get there.
3 Arab. “Kumm” = sleeve or petal. See vol. v. 32.
4 Arab. “Kiráb” = sword-case of wood, the sheath being of leather.
5 Arab. “Akr kayrawán,” both rare words.
6 A doubtful tradition in the Mishkát al-Masábih declares that every pomegranate contains a grain from Paradise. See vol. i. 134. The Koranic reference is to vi. 99.
7 Arab. “Aswad,” lit. black but used for any dark colour, here green as opposed to the lighter yellow.
8 The idea has occurred in vol. i. 158.
9 So called from the places where they grow.
10 See vol. vii. for the almond-apricot whose stone is cracked to get at the kernel.
11 For Roum see vol. iv. 100: in Morocco “Roumi” means simply a European. The tetrastich alludes to the beauty of the Greek slaves.
12 Arab. “Ahlan” in adverb form lit. = “as one of the household”: so in the greeting “Ahlan wa Sahlan” (and at thine ease), wa Marhabá (having a wide free place).
13 For the Sufrah table-cloth see vol. i. 178.
14 See vol. iii. 302, for the unclean allusion in fig and sycamore.
15 In the text “of Tor”: see vol. ii. 242. The pear is mentioned by Homer and grows wild in South Europe. Dr. Victor Hehn (The Wanderings of Plants, etc.) comparing the Gr. with the Lat. Pyrus, suggests that the latter passed over to the Kelts and Germans amongst whom the fruit was not indigenous. Our fine pears are mostly from the East. e.g. the “bergamot” is the Beg Armud, Prince of Pears, from Angora.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the merchants’ sons went down into the garth they saw therein all the fruits we mentioned and found pears Sinaïtic, Aleppine and Grecian of every hue, which here clustering there single grew, parcel green and parcel yellow to the gazer a marvel-view, as saith of them the poet,
“With thee that Pear agree, whose hue a-morn
Is hue of hapless lover yellow pale;
Like virgin cloistered strait in strong Harím
Whose face like racing steed outstrips the veil.”
And Sultani1 peaches of shades varied, yellow and red, whereof saith the poet,
“Like Peach in vergier growing
And sheen of Andam2 showing:
Whose balls of yellow gold
Are dyed with blood-gouts flowing.”
There were also green almonds of passing sweetness, resembling the cabbage3 of the palm-tree, with their kernels within three tunics lurking of the Munificent King’s handiworking, even as is said of them,
“Three coats yon freshest form endue
God’s work of varied shape and hue:
Hardness surrounds it night and day;
Prisoning without a sin to rue.”
And as well saith another,
“Seest not that Almond plucked by hand
Of man from bough where wont to dwell:
Peeling it shows the heart within
As union-pearl in oyster-shell.”
And as saith a third better than he,
“How good is Almond green I view!
The smallest fills the hand of you:
Its nap is as the down upon
The cheeks where yet no beardlet grew:
Its kernels in the shell are seen,
Or bachelors or married two,
As pearls they were of lucent white
Casèd and lapped in Jasper’s hue.”
And as saith yet another and saith well,
“Mine eyes ne’er looked on aught the Almond like
For charms, when blossoms4 in the Prime show bright:
Its head to hoariness of age inclines
The while its cheek by youth’s fresh down is dight.”
And jujube-plums of various colours, grown in clusters and alone whereof saith one, describing them,
“Look at the Lote-tree, note on boughs arrayed
Like goodly apricots on reed-strown floor,5
Their morning-hue to viewer’s eye is like
Cascavels6 cast of purest golden ore.”
And as saith another and saith right well,
“The Jujube-tree each Day
Robeth in bright array. As though each pome thereon
Would self to sight display. Like falcon-bell of gold
Swinging from every spray.”
And in that garth grew blood oranges, as they were the Khaulanján,7 whereof quoth the enamoured poet, 8
“Red fruits that fill the hand, and shine with sheen
Of fire, albe the scarf-skin’s white as snow.
’Tis marvel snow on fire doth never melt
And, stranger still, ne’er burns this living lowe!”
And quoth another and quoth well,
“And trees of Orange fruiting ferly fair
To those who straitest have their charms surveyed;
Like cheeks of women who their forms have decked
For holiday in robes of gold brocade.”
And yet another as well,
“Like are the Orange-hills9 when Zephyr breathes
Swaying the boughs and spray with airy grace,
Her cheeks that glow with lovely light when met
At greeting-tide by cheeks of other face.”
And a fourth as fairly,
“And fairest Fawn, we said to him ‘Portray
This garth and oranges thine eyes survey:’
And he, ‘Your garden favoureth my face
Who gathereth orange gathereth fire alway.’”
In that garden too grew citrons, in colour as virgin gold, hanging down from on high and dangling among the branches, as they were ingots of growing gold;10 and saith thereof the ’namoured poet,
“Hast seen a Citron-copse so weighed adown
Thou fearest bending roll their fruit on mould;
And seemed, when Zephyr passed athwart the tree
Its branches hung with bells of purest gold?”
And shaddocks,11 that among their boughs hung laden as though each were the breast of a gazelle-like maiden, contenting the most longing wight, as saith of them the poet and saith aright,
“And Shaddock mid the garden-paths, on bough
Freshest like fairest damsel met my sight;
And to the blowing of the breeze it bent
Like golden ball to bat of chrysolite.”
And the lime sweet of scent, which resembleth a hen’s egg, but its yellowness ornamenteth its ripe fruit, and its fragrance hearteneth him who plucketh it, as saith the poet who singeth it,
“Seest not the Lemon, when it taketh form,
Catch rays of light and all to gaze constrain;
Like egg of pullet which the huckster’s hand
Adorneth dyeing with the saffron-stain?”
Moreover in this garden were all manner of other fruits and sweet-scented herbs and plants and fragrant flowers, such as jessamine and henna and water-lilies12 and spikenard 13 and roses of every kind and plantain14 and myrtle and so forth; and indeed it was without compare, seeming as it were a piece of Paradise to whoso beheld it. If a sick man entered it, he came forth from it like a raging lion, and tongue availeth not to its description, by reason of that which was therein of wonders and rarities which are not found but in Heaven: and how should it be otherwise when its doorkeeper’s name was Rizman? Though widely different were the stations of those twain! Now when the sons of the merchants had walked about gazing at the garden after taking their pleasure therein, they say down in one of its pavilions and seated Nur al-Din in their midst. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. “Royal,” it may or may not come from Sultaníyah, a town near Baghdad. See vol. i. 83; where it applies to oranges and citrons.
2 ‘Andam = Dragon’s blood: see vol. iii. 263.
3 Arab. “Jamár,” the palm-pith and cabbage, both eaten by Arabs with sugar.
4 Arab. “Anwár” = lights, flowers (mostly yellow): hence the Moroccan “N’wár,” with its usual abuse of Wakf or quiescence.
5 Mr. Payne quotes Eugene Fromèntin, “Un Eté dans le Sahara,” Paris, 1857, p. 194. Apricot drying can be seen upon all the roofs at Damascus where, however, the season for each fruit is unpleasantly short, ending almost as soon as it begins.
6 Arab. “Jalájal” = small bells for falcons: in Port. cascaveis, whence our word.
7 Khulanján. Sic all editions; but Khalanj, or Khaulanj adj. Khalanji, a tree with a strong-smelling wood which held in hand as a chaplet acts as perfume, as is probably intended. In Span. Arabic it is the Erica-wood. The “Muhit” tells us that is a tree parcel yellow and red growing in parts of India and China, its leaf is that of the Tamarisk (Tarfá); its flower is coloured red, yellow and white; it bears a grain like mustard-seed (Khardal) and of its wood they make porringers. Hence the poet sings,
“Yut ‘amu ‘l-shahdu fí ‘l-jifáni, wa yuska
Labanu ‘l-Bukhti fi Kusá‘i ‘l-Khalanji:
Honey’s served to them in platters for food;
Camels’ milk in bowls of the Khalanj wood.”
The pl. Khalánij is used by Himyán bin Kaháfah in this “bayt”,
“Hattá izá má qazati ‘l-Hawáijá
Wa malaat Halába-há ‘l-Khalánijá:
And with sweet milk had filled the porringers.”
8 In text Al–Shá‘ir Al–Walahán, vol. iii. 226.
9 The orange I have said is the growth of India and the golden apples of the Hesperides were not oranges but probably golden nuggets. Captain Rolleston (Globe, Feb. 5, ‘84, on “Morocco–Lixus”) identifies the Garden with the mouth of the Lixus River while M. Antichan would transfer it to the hideous and unwholesome Bissagos Archipelago.
10 Arab. “Ikyán,” the living gold which is supposed to grow in the ground.
11 For the Kubbad or Captain Shaddock’s fruit see vol. ii. 310, where it is misprinted Kubád.
12 Full or Fill in Bresl. Edit. = Arabian jessamine or cork-tree ( ). The Bul. and Mac. Edits. read “filfil” = pepper or palm-fibre.
13 Arab. “Sumbul al-‘Anbari”; the former word having been introduced into England by patent medicines. “Sumbul” in Arab. and Pers. means the hyacinth, the spikenard or the Sign Virgo.
14 Arab. “Lisán al-Hamal” lit. = Lamb’s tongue.
She resume, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the sons of the merchants sat down in the pavilion they seated Nur al-Din in their midst on a rug of gold-purfled leather of Al-Táif,1 leaning on a pillow 2 of minever, stuffed with ostrich down. And they gave him a fan of ostrich feathers, whereon were written these two couplets,
“A fan whose breath is fraught with fragrant scent;
Minding of happy days and times forspent,
Wafting at every time its perfumed air
O’er face of noble youth on honour bent.”
Then they laid by their turbands and outer clothes and sat talking and chatting and inducing one another to discourse, while they all kept their eyes fixed on Nur al-Din and gazed on his beauteous form. After the sitting had lasted an hour or so, up came a slave with a tray on his head, wherein were platters of china and crystal containing viands of all sorts (for one of the youths had so charged his people before coming to the garden); and the meats were of whatever walketh earth or wingeth air or swimmeth waters, such as Katá-grouse and fat quails and pigeon-poults and mutton and chickens and the delicatest fish. So, the tray being sat before them, they fell to and ate their fill; and when they had made an end of eating, they rose from meat and washed their hands with pure water and musk-scented soap, and dried them with napery embroidered in silk and bugles; but to Nur al-Din they brought a napkin laced with red gold whereon he wiped his hands. Then coffee3 was served up and each drank what he would, after which they sat talking, till presently the garden-keeper who was young went away and returning with a basket full of roses, said to them, “What say ye, O my masters, to flowers?” Quoth one of them, “There is no harm in them,4 especially roses, which are not to be resisted.” Answered the gardener, “’Tis well, but it is of our wont not to give roses but in exchange for pleasant converse; so whoever would take aught thereof, let him recite some verses suitable to the situation.” Now they were ten sons of merchants of whom one said, “Agreed: give me thereof and I will recite thee somewhat of verse apt to the case.” Accordingly the gardener gave him a bunch of roses5 which he took and at once improvised these three couplets,
“The Rose in highest stead I rate
For that her charms ne’er satiate;
All fragrant flow’rs be troops to her
Their general of high estate:
Where she is not they boast and vaunt;
But, when she comes, they stint their prate.”
Then the gardener gave a bunch to another and he recited these two couplets,
“Take, O my lord, to thee the Rose
Recalling scent by mush be shed.
Like virginette by lover eyed
Who with her sleeves6 enveileth head.”
Then he gave a bunch to a third who recited these two couplets,
“Choice Rose that gladdens heart to see her sight;
Of Nadd recalling fragrance exquisite.
The branchlets clip her in her leaves for joy,
Like kiss of lips that never spake in spite.”
Then he gave a bunch to a fourth and he recited these two couplets,
“Seest not that rosery where Rose a-flowering displays
Mounted upon her steed of stalk those marvels manifold?
As though the bud were ruby-stone and girded all around
With chrysolite and held within a little hoard of gold.”
Then he gave a posy to a fifth and he recited these two couplets,
“Wands of green chrysolite bare issue, which
Were fruits like ingots of the growing gold.7
And drops, a dropping from its leaves, were like
The tears my languorous eyelids railed and rolled.”
Then he gave a sixth a bunch and he recited these two couplets,
“O Rose, thou rare of charms that dost contain
All gifts and Allah’s secrets singular,
Thou’rt like the loved one’s cheek where lover fond
And fain of Union sticks the gold dinar.”8
Then he gave a bunch to a seventh and he recited these two couplets,
“To Rose quoth I, ‘What gars thy thorns to be put forth
For all who touch thee cruellest injury?’
Quoth she, ‘These flowery troops are troops of me
Who be their lord with spines for armoury.’”
And he gave an eighth a bunch and he recited these two couplets,
“Allah save the Rose which yellows a-morn
Florid, vivid and likest the nugget-ore;
And bless the fair sprays that displayed such fowers
And mimic suns gold-begilded bore.”
Then he gave a bunch to a ninth and he recited these two couplets,
“The bushes of golden-hued Rose excite
In the love-sick lover joys manifold:
’Tis a marvel shrub watered every day
With silvern lymph and it fruiteth gold.”
Then he gave a bunch of roses to the tenth and last and he recited these two couplets,
“Seest not how the hosts of the Rose display
Red hues and yellow in rosy field?
I compare the Rose and her arming thorn
To emerald lance piercing golden shield.”
And whilst each one hent bunch in hand, the gardener brought the wine-service and setting it before them, on a tray of porcelain arabesqued with red gold, recited these two couplets,
“Dawn heralds day-light: so wine pass round,
Old wine, fooling sage till his wits he tyne:
Wot I not for its purest clarity
An ’tis wine in cup or ’tis cup in wine.”9
Then the gardener filled and drank and the cup went round, till it came to Nur al-Din’s turn, whereupon the man filled and handed it to him; but he said, “This thing I wot it not nor have I ever drunken thereof, for therein is great offence and the Lord of All-might hath forbidden it in His Book.” Answered the gardener, “O my Lord Nur al-Din, an thou forbear to drink only by reason of the sin, verily Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) is bountiful, of sufferance great, forgiving and compassionate and pardoneth the mortalest sins: His mercy embraceth all things, Allah’s ruth be upon the poet who saith,
‘Be as thou, wilt, for Allah is bountiful
And when thou sinnest feel thou naught alarm:
But ‘ware of twofold sins nor ever dare
To give God partner or mankind to harm.’”
Then quoth one of the sons of the merchants, “My life on thee, O my lord Nur al-Din, drink of this cup!” And another conjured him by the oath of divorce and yet another stood up persistently before him, till he was ashamed and taking the cup from the gardener, drank a draught, but spat it out again, crying, “’Tis bitter.” Said the young gardener, “O my lord Nur al-Din, knowest thou not that sweets taken by way of medicine are bitter? Were this not bitter, ‘twould lack of the manifold virtues it possesseth; amongst which are that it digesteth food and disperseth cark and care and dispelleth flatulence and clarifieth the blood and cleareth the complexion and quickeneth the body and hearteneth the hen-hearted and fortifieth the sexual power in man; but to name all its virtues would be tedious. Quoth one of the poets,
‘We’ll drink and Allah pardon sinners all
And cure of ills by sucking cups I’ll find:
Nor aught the sin deceives me; yet said He
‘In it there be advantage10 to mankind.’”
Then he sprang up without stay or delay and opened one of the cupboards in the pavilion and taking out a loaf of refined sugar, broke off a great slice which he put into Nur al-Din’s cup, saying, “O my lord, an thou fear to drink wine, because of its bitterness, drink now, for ’tis sweet.” So he took the cup and emptied it: whereupon one of his comrades filled him another, saying, “O my lord Nur al-Din, I am thy slave,” and another did the like, saying, “I am one of thy servants,” and a third said, “For my sake!” and a fourth, “Allah upon thee, O my lord Nur al-Din, heal my heart!” And so they ceased not plying him with wine, each and every of the ten sons of merchants till they had made him drink a total of ten cups. Now Nur al-Din’s body was virgin of wine-bibbing, or never in all his life had he drunken vine-juice till that hour, wherefore its fumes wrought in his brain and drunkenness was stark upon him and he stood up (and indeed his tongue was thick and his speech stammering) and said, “O company, by Allah, ye are fair and your speech is goodly and your place pleasant; but there needeth hearing of sweet music; for drink without melody lacks the chief of its essentiality, even as saith the poet,
‘Pass round the cup to the old and the young man, too,
And take the bowl from the hand of the shining moon,11
But without music, I charge you, forbear to drink;
I see even horses drink to a whistled tune.’”12
Therewith up sprang the gardener lad and mounting one of the young men’s mules, was absent awhile, after which he returned with a Cairene girl, as she were a sheep’s tail, fat and delicate, or an ingot of pure silvern ore or a dinar on a porcelain plate or a gazelle in the wold forlore. She had a face that put to shame the shining sun and eyes Babylonian13 and brows like bows bended and cheeks rose-painted and teeth pearly-hued and lips sugared and glances languishing and breast ivory white and body slender and slight, full of folds and with dimples dight and hips like pillows stuffed and thighs like columns of Syrian stone, and between them what was something like a sachet of spices in wrapper swathed. Quoth the poet of her in these couplets,
“Had she shown her shape to idolaters’ sight,
They would gaze on her face and their gods detest:
And if in the East to a monk she’d show’d,
He’d quit Eastern posture and bow to West.14
An she crached in the sea and the briniest sea
Her lips would give it the sweetest zest.”
And quoth another in these couplets,
“Brighter than Moon at full with kohl’d eyes she came
Like Doe, on chasing whelps of Lioness intent:
Her night of murky locks lets fall a tent on her
A tent of hair15 that lacks no pegs to hold the tent;
And roses lighting up her roseate cheeks are fed
By hearts and livers flowing fire for languishment:
An ‘spied her all the Age’s Fair to her they’d rise
Humbly,16 and cry ‘The meed belongs to precedent!’”
And how well saith a third bard,17
“Three things for ever hinder her to visit us, for fear
Of the intriguing spy and eke the rancorous envier;
Her forehead’s lustre and the sound of all her ornaments
And the sweet scent her creases hold of ambergris and myrth.
Grant with the border of her sleeve she hide her brow and doff
Her ornaments, how shall she do her scent away from her?”
She was like the moon when at fullest on its fourteenth night, and was clad in a garment of blue, with a veil of green, overbrown flower-white that all wits amazed and those of understanding amated. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying his permitted say.
1 See in Bresl. Edit. X, 221. Taif, a well-known town in the mountain region East of Meccah, and not in the Holy Land, was once famous for scented goat’s leather. It is considered to be a “fragment of Syria” (Pilgrimage ii. 207) and derives its name = the circumambulator from its having circuited pilgrim-like round Ka’abah (Ibid.).
2 Arab. “Mikhaddah” = cheek-pillow: Ital. guanciale. In Bresl. Edit. Mudawwarah (a round cushion) Sinjabiyah (of Ermine). For “Mudawwarah” see vol. iv. 135.
3 “Coffee” is here evidently an anachronism and was probably inserted by the copyist. See vol. v. 169, for its first metnion. But “Kahwah” may have preserved its original meaning = strong old wine (vol. ii. 261); and the amount of wine-drinking and drunkenness proves that the coffee movement had not set in.
4 i.e. they are welcome. In Marocco “Lá baas” means, “I am pretty well” (in health).
5 The Rose (Ward) in Arab. is masculine, sounding to us most uncouth. But there is a fem. form Wardah = a single rose.
6 Arab. “Akmám,” pl. of Kumm, a sleeve, a petal. See vol. iv. 107 and supra p. 267. The Moslem woman will show any part of her person rather than her face, instinctively knowing that the latter may be recognised whereas the former cannot. The traveller in the outer East will see ludicrous situations in which the modest one runs away with hind parts bare and head and face carefully covered.
7 Arab. “Ikyán” which Mr. Payne translates “vegetable gold” very picturesquely but not quite preserving the idea. See supra p. 272.
8 It is the custom for fast youths, in Egypt, Syria, and elsewhere to stick small gold pieces, mere spangles of metal on the brows, cheeks and lips of the singing and dancing girls and the perspiration and mask of cosmetics make them adhere for a time till fresh movement shakes them off.
9 See the same idea in vol. i. 132, and 349.
10 “They will ask thee concerning wine and casting of lots; say: ‘In both are great sin and great advantages to mankind; but the sin of them both is greater than their advantage.’” See Koran ii. 216. Mohammed seems to have made up his mind about drinking by slow degrees; and the Koranic law is by no means so strict as the Mullahs have made it. The prohibitions, revealed at widely different periods and varying in import and distinction, have been discussed by Al–Bayzáwi in his commentary on the above chapter. He says that the first revelation was in chapt. xvi. 69 but, as the passage was disregarded, Omar and others consulted the Apostle who replied to them in chapt. ii. 216. Then, as this also was unnoticed, came the final decision in chapt. v. 92, making wine and lots the work of Satan. Yet excuses are never wanting to the Moslem, he can drink Champagne and Cognac, both unknown in Mohammed’s day and he can use wine and spirits medicinally, like sundry of ourselves, who turn up the nose of contempt at the idea of drinking for pleasure.
11 i.e. a fair-faced cup-bearer. The lines have occurred before: so I quote Mr. Payne.
12 It is the custom of the Arabs to call their cattle to water by whistling; not to whistle to them, as Europeans do, whilst making water.
13 i.e. bewitching. See vol. i. 85. These incompatible metaphors are brought together by the Saj’a (prose rhyme) in —“iyah.”
14 Mesopotamian Christians, who still turn towards Jerusalem, face the West, instead of the East, as with Europeans: here the monk is so dazed that he does not know what to do.
15 Arab. “Bayt Sha’ar” = a house of hair (tent) or a couplet of verse. Watad (a tentpeg) also is prosodical, a foot when the two first letters are “moved” (vowelled) and the last is jazmated (quiescent), e.g. Lakad. It is termed Majmú‘a (united), as opposed to “Mafrúk” (separated), e.g. Kabla, when the “moved” consonants are disjoined by a quiescent.
16 Lit. standing on their heads, which sounds ludicrous enough in English, not in Arabic.
17 These lines are in vol. iii. 251. I quote Mr. Payne who notes “The bodies of Eastern women of the higher classes by dint of continual maceration, Esther-fashion, in aromatic oils and essences, would naturally become impregnated with the sweet scents of the cosmetics used.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the gardener brought a girl whom we have described, possessed of the utmost beauty and loveliness and fine stature and symmetrical grace as it were she the poet signified when he said,1
“She came apparelled in a vest of blue, That mocked the skies and shamed their azure hue; I thought thus clad she burst upon my sight, Like summer moonshine on a wintry night.”
And how goodly is the saying of another and how excellent,
“She came thick veiled, and cried I, ‘O display
That face like full moon bright with pure-white ray.’
Quoth she, ‘I fear disgrace,’ quoth I, ‘Cut short
This talk, no shift of days thy thoughts affray.’
Whereat she raised her veil from fairest face
And crystal spray on gems began to stray:
And I forsooth was fain to kiss her cheek,
Lest she complain of me on Judgment–Day.
And at such tide before the Lord on High
We first of lovers were redress to pray:
So ‘Lord, prolong this reckoning and review’
(Prayed I) ‘that longer I may sight my may.’”
Then said the young gardener to her, “Know thou, O lady of the fair, brighter than any constellation which illumineth air we sought, in bringing thee hither naught but that thou shouldst entertain with converse this comely youth, my lord Nur al-Din, for he hath come to this place only this day.” And the girl replied, “Would thou hadst told me, that I might have brought what I have with me!” Rejoined the gardener, “O my lady, I will go and fetch it to thee.” “As thou wilt,” said she: and he, “Give me a token.” So she gave him a kerchief and he fared forth in haste and returned after awhile, bearing a green satin bag with slings of gold. The girl took the bag from him and opening it shook it, whereupon there fell thereout two-and-thirty pieces of wood, which she fitted one into other, male into female and female into male2 till they became a polished lute of Indian workmanship. Then she uncovered her wrists and laying the lute in her lap, bent over it with the bending of mother over babe, and swept the strings with her finger-tips; whereupon it moaned and resounded and after its olden home yearned; and it remembered the waters that gave it drink and the earth whence it sprang and wherein it grew and it minded the carpenters who made it their merchandise and the ships that shipped it; and it cried and called aloud and moaned and groaned; and it was as if she asked it of all these things and it answered her with the tongue of the case, reciting these couplets,3
“A tree whilere was I the Bulbul’s home
To whom for love I bowed my grass-green head:
They moaned on me, and I their moaning learnt
And in that moan my secret all men read:
The woodman fell me falling sans offence,
And slender lute of me (as view ye) made:
But, when the fingers smite my strings, they tell
How man despite my patience did me dead;
Hence boon-companions when they hear my moan
Distracted wax as though by wine misled:
And the Lord softens every heart of me,
And I am hurried to the highmost stead:
All who in charms excel fain clasp my waist;
Gazelles of languid eyne and Houri maid:
Allah ne’er part fond lover from his joy
Nor live the loved one who unkindly fled.”
Then the girl was silent awhile, but presently taking the lute in lap, again bent over it, as mother bendeth over child, and preluded in many different modes; then, returning to the first, she sang these couplets,
“Would they 4 the lover seek without ado,
He to his heavy grief had bid adieu:
With him had vied the Nightingale5 on bough
As one far parted from his lover’s view:
Rouse thee! awake! The Moon lights Union-night
As tho’ such Union woke the Morn anew.
This day the blamers take of us no heed
And lute-strings bid us all our joys ensue.
Seest not how four-fold things conjoin in one
Rose, myrtle, scents and blooms of golden hue.6
Yea, here this day the four chief joys unite
Drink and dinars, beloved and lover true:
So win thy worldly joy, for joys go past
And naught but storied tales and legends last.”
When Nur al-Din heard the girl sing these lines he looked on her with eyes of love and could scarce contain himself for the violence of his inclination to her; and on like wise was it with her, because she glanced at the company who were present of the sons of the merchants and she saw that Nur al-Din was amongst the rest as moon among stars; for that he was sweet of speech and replete with amorous grace, perfect in stature and symmetry, brightness and loveliness, pure of all defect, than the breeze of morn softer, than Tasnim blander, as saith of him the poet,7
“By his cheeks’ unfading damask and his smiling teeth I swear,
By the arros that he feathers with the witchery of his air,
By his sides so soft and tender and his glances bright and keen,
By the whiteness of his forehead and the blackness of his hair,
By his arched imperious eyebrows, chasing slumber from my lids
With their yeas and noes that hold me ‘twixt rejoicing and despair,
By the Scorpions that he launches from his ringlet-clustered brows,
Seeking still to slay his lovers with his rigours unaware,
By the myrtle of his whiskers and the roses of his cheek,
By his lips’ incarnate rubies and his teeth’s fine pearls and rare,
By the straight and tender sapling of his shape, which for its fruit
Doth the twin pomegranates, shining in his snowy bosom, wear,
By his heavy hips that tremble, both in motion and repose,
And the slender waist above them, all too slight their weight to bear,
By the silk of his apparel and his quick and sprightly wit,
By all attributes of beauty that are fallen to his share;
Lo, the musk exhales its fragrance from his breath, and eke the breeze
From his scent the perfume borrows, that it scatters everywhere.
Yea, the sun in all his splendour cannot with his brightness vie
And the crescent moon’s a fragment that he from his nails doth pare.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These lines occur in vol. i. 218: I quote Torrens for variety.
2 So we speak of a “female screw.” The allusion is to the dove-tailing of the pieces. This personification of the lute has occurred before: but I solicit the reader’s attention to it; it has a fulness of Oriental flavour all its own.
3 I again solicit the reader’s attention to the simplicity, the pathos and the beauty of this personification of the lute.
4 “They” for she.
5 The Arabs very justly make the “‘Andalib” = nightingale, masculine.
6 Anwár = lights or flowers: See Night dccclxv. supra p. 270.
7 These couplets have occurred in vol. i. 168; so I quote Mr. Payne.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din was delighted with the girl’s verses and he swayed from side to side for drunkenness and fell a-praising her and saying,
“A lutanist to us inclined
And stole our wits bemused with wine:
And said to us her lute, ‘The Lord
Bade us discourse by voice divine.’”
When she heard him thus improvise the girl gazed at him with loving eyes and redoubled in passion and desire for him increased upon her, and indeed she marvelled at his beauty and loveliness, symmetry and grace, so that she could not contain herself, but took the lute in lap again and sang these couplets,
“He blames me for casting on him my sight
And parts fro’ me bearing my life and sprite:
He repels me but kens what my heart endures
As though Allah himself had inspired the wight:
I portrayed his portrait in palm of hand
And cried to mine eyes, ‘Weep your doleful plight.’
For neither shall eyes of me spy his like
Nor my heart have patience to bear its blight:
Wherefore, will I tear thee from breast, O Heart
As one who regards him with jealous spite.
And when say I, ‘O heart be consoled for pine,’
’Tis that heart to none other shall e’er incline:”
Nur al-Din wondered at the charms of her verse and the elegance of her expression and the sweetness of her voice and the eloquence of her speech and his wit fled for stress of love and longing, and ecstasy and distraction, so that he could not refrain from her a single moment, but bent to her and strained her to his bosom: and she in like manner bowed her form over his and abandoned herself to his embrace and bussed him between the eyes. Then he kissed her on the mouth and played with her at kisses, after the manner of the billing of doves; and she met him with like warmth and did with him as she was done by till the others were distracted and rose to their feet; whereupon Nur al-Din was ashamed and held his hand from her. Then she took her lute and, preluding thereon in manifold modes, lastly returned to the first and sang these couplets,
“A Moon, when he bends him those eyes lay bare
A brand that gars gazing gazelle despair:
A King, rarest charms are the host of him
And his lance-like shape men with cane compare:
Were his softness of sides to his heart transferred
His friend had not suffered such cark and care:
Ah for hardest heart and for softest sides!
Why not that to these alter, make here go there?
O thou who accusest my love excuse:
Take eternal and leave me the transient share.”1
When Nur al-Din heard the sweetness of her voice and the rareness of her verse, he inclined to her for delight and could not contain himself for excess of wonderment; so he recited these couplets.
“Methought she was the forenoon sun until she donned the veil
But lit she fire in vitals mine still flaring fierce and high,
How had it hurt her an she deigned return my poor salám
With fingertips or e’en vouchsafed one little wink of eye?
The cavalier who spied her face was wholly stupefied
By charms that glorify the place and every charm outvie.
‘Be this the Fair who makes thee pine and long for love liesse?
Indeed thou art excused!’ ‘This is my fairest she;’(quoth I)
Who shot me with the shaft of looks nor deigns to rue my woes
Of strangerhood and broken heart and love I must aby:
I rose a-morn with vanquished heart, to longing love a prey
And weep I through the live long day and all the night I cry.”
The girl marvelled at his eloquence and elegance and taking her lute, smote thereon with the goodliest of performance, repeating all the melodies, and sang these couplets,
“By the life o’ thy face, O thou life o’ my sprite!
I’ll ne’er leave thy love for despair or delight:
When art cruel thy vision stands hard by my side
And the thought of thee haunts me when far from sight:
O who saddenest my glance albe weeting that I
No love but thy love will for ever requite?
Thy cheeks are of Rose and thy lips-dews are wine;
Say, wilt grudge them to us in this charming site?”
Hereat Nur al-Din was gladdened with extreme gladness and wondered with the utmost wonder, so he answered her verse with these couplets,
“The sun yellowed not in the murk gloom li’en
But lay pearl enveiled ‘neath horizon-chine;
Nor showed its crest to the eyes of Morn
But took refuge from parting with Morning-shine.2
Take my tear-drops that trickle as chain on chain
And they’ll tell my case with the clearest sign.
An my tears be likened to Nile-flood, like
Malak’s3 flooded flat be this love o’mine.
Quoth she, ‘Bring thy riches!’ Quoth I, ‘Come, take!’
‘And thy sleep?’ ‘Yes, take it from lids of eyne!’”
When the girl heard Nur al-Din’s words and noted the beauty of his eloquence her senses fled and her wit was dazed and love of him gat hold upon her whole heart. So she pressed him to her bosom and fell to kissing him like the billing of doves, whilst he returned her caresses with successive kisses; but preeminence appertaineth to precedence.4 When she had made an end of kissing, she took the lute and recited these couplets,
“Alas, alack and well-away for blamer’s calumny!
Whether or not I make my moan or plead or show no plea:
O spurner of my love I ne’er of thee so hard would deem
That I of thee should be despised, of thee my property.
I wont at lovers’ love to rail and for their passion chide,
But now I fain debase myself to all who rail at thee:
Yea, only yesterday I wont all amourists to blame
But now I pardon hearts that pine for passion’s ecstasy;
And of my stress of parting-stowre on me so heavy weighs
At morning prayer to Him I’ll cry, ‘In thy name, O Ali!’”
And also these two couplets,
“His lovers said, ‘Unless he deign to give us all a drink
Of wine, of fine old wine his lips deal in their purity;
We to the Lord of Threefold Worlds will pray to grant our prayer’
And all exclaim with single cry ‘In thy name, O Ali!’”
Nur al-Din, hearing these lines and their rhyme, marvelled at the fluency of her tongue and thanked her, praising her grace and passing seductiveness; and the damsel, delighted at his praise, arose without stay or delay and doffing that was upon her of outer dress and trinkets till she was free of all encumbrance sat down on his knees and kissed him between the eyes and on his cheek-mole. Then she gave him all she had put off. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. You may have his soul but leave me his body: company with him in the next world and let me have him in this.
2 Alluding to the Koranic (cxiii. 1.), “I take refuge with the Lord of the Daybreak from the mischief of that which He hath created, etc.” This is shown by the first line wherein occurs the Koranic word “Ghásik” (cxiii. 3) which may mean the first darkness when it overspreadeth or the moon when it is eclipsed.
3 “Malak” = level ground; also tract on the Nile sea. Lane M.E. ii. 417, and Bruckhardt Nubia 482.
4 This sentiment has often been repeated.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the girl gave to Nur al-Din all she had doffed, saying, “O beloved of my heart, in very sooth the gift is after the measure of the giver.” So he accepted this from her and gave it back to her and kissed her on the mouth and cheeks and eyes. When this was ended and done, for naught is durable save the Living, the Eternal, Provider of the peacock and the owl,1 Nur al-Din rose from the séance and stood upon his feet, because the darkness was now fallen and the stars shone out; whereupon quoth the damsel to him, “Whither away, O my lord?”; and quoth he, “To my father’s home.” Then the sons of the merchants conjured him to night with them, but he refused and mounting his shemule, rode, without stopping, till he reached his parent’s house, where his mother met him and said to him, “O my son, what hath kept thee away till this hour? By Allah, thou hast troubled myself and thy sire by thine absence from us, and our hearts have been occupied with thee.” Then she came up to him, to kiss him on his mouth, and smelling the fumes of the wine, said, “O my wine-bibber and a rebel against Him to whom belong creation and commandment?” But Nur al-Din threw himself down on the bed and lay there. Presently in came his sire and said, “What aileth Nur al-Din to lie thus?”; and his mother answered, “‘Twould seem his head acheth for the air of the garden.” So Taj al-Din went up to his son, to ask him of his ailment, and salute him, and smelt the reek of wine.2 Now the merchant loved not wine-drinkers; so he said to Nur al-Din, “Woe to thee, O my son! Is folly come to such a pass with thee, that thou drinkest wine?” When Nur al-Din heard his sire say this, he raised his hand, being yet in his drunkenness, and dealt him a buffet, when by decree of the Decreer the blow lit on his father’s right eye which rolled down on his cheek; whereupon he fell a-swoon and lay therein awhile. They sprinkled rose-water on him till he recovered, when he would have beaten his son; but the mother withheld him, and he swore, by the oath of divorce from his wife that, as soon as morning morrowed, he would assuredly cut off his son’s right hand.3 When she heard her husband’s words, her breast was straitened and she feared for he son and ceased not to soothe and appease his sire, till sleep overcame him. Then she waited till moon-rise, when she went in to her son, whose drunkenness had now departed from him, and said to him, “O Nur al-Din, what is this foul deed thou diddest with thy sire?” He asked, “And what did I with him?”; and answered she, “Thou dealtest him a buffet on the right eye and struckest it out so that it rolled down his cheek; and he hath sworn by the divorce-oath that, as soon as morning shall morrow he will without fail cut off thy right hand.” Nur al-Din repented him of that he had done, whenas repentance profited him naught, and his mother sait to him, “O my son, this penitence will not profit thee; nor will aught avail thee but that thou arise forthwith and seek safety in flight: go forth the house privily and take refuge with one of thy friends and there what Allah shall do await, for he changeth case after case and state upon state.” Then she opened a chest and taking out a purse of an hundred dinars said, “O my son, take these dinars and provide thy wants therewith, and when they are at an end, O my son, send and let me know thereof, that I may send thee other than these, and at the same time covey to me news of thyself privily: haply Allah will decree thee relief and thou shalt return to thy home. And she farewelled him and wept passing sore, nought could be more. Thereupon Nur al-Din took the purse of gold and was about to go forth, when he espied a great purse containing a thousand dinars, which his mother had forgotten by the side of the chest. So he took this also and binding the two purses about his middle,4 set out before dawn threading the streets in the direction of Búlák, where he arrived when day broke and all creatures arose, attesting the unity of Allah the Opener and went forth each of them upon his several business, to win that which Allah had unto him allotted. Reaching Bulak he walked on along the riverbank till he sighted a ship with her gangway out and her four anchors made fast to the land. The folk were going up into her and coming down from her, and Nur al-Din, seeing some sailors there standing, asked them whither they were bound, and they answered, “To Rosetta-city.” Quoth he, “Take me with you;” and quoth they, “Well come, and welcome to thee, to thee, O goodly one!” So he betook himself forthright to the market and buying what he needed of vivers and bedding and covering, returned to the port and went on board the ship, which was ready to sail and tarried with him but a little while before she weighed anchor and fared on, without stopping, till she reached Rosetta,5 where Nur al-Din saw a small boat going to Alexandria. So he embarked in it and traversing the sea-arm of Rosetta fared on till he came to a bridge called Al-Jámí, where he landed and entered Alexandria by the gate called the Gate of the Lote-tree. Allah protected him, so that none of those who stood on guard at the gate saw him, and he walked on till he entered the city. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The owl comes in because “Búm” (pron. boom) rhymes with Kayyúm = the Eternal.
2 For an incident like this see my Pilgrimmage (vol. i. 176). How true to nature the whole scene is; the fond mother excusing her boy and the practical father putting the excuse aside. European paternity, however, would probably exclaim, “The beast’s in liquor!”
3 In ancient times this seems to have been the universal and perhaps instinctive treatment of the hand that struck a father. By Nur al-Din’s flight the divorce-oath became technically null and void for Taj al-Din had sworn to mutilate his son next morning.
4 So Roderic Random and his companions “sewed their money between the lining and the waistband of their breeches, except some loose silver for immediate expense on the road.” For a description of these purses see Pilgrimage i. 37.
5 Arab. Rashid (our Rosetta), a corruption of the Coptic Trashit; ever famous for the Stone.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur al-Din entered Alexandria he found it a city goodly of pleasaunces, delightful to its inhabitants and inviting to inhabit therein. Winter had fared from it with his cold and Prime was come to it with his roses: its flowers were kindly ripe and welled forth its rills. Indeed, it was a city goodly of ordinance and disposition; its folk were of the best of men, and when the gates thereof were shut, its folk were safe.1 And it was even as is said of it in these couplets,
“Quoth I to a comrade one day,
A man of good speech and rare,
‘Describe Alexandria.’
Quoth he, ’Tis a march-town fair.’
Quoth I, ‘Is there living therein?’
And he, ‘An the wind blow there.’”
Or as saith one of the poets,
“Alexandria’s a frontier;2
Whose dews of lips are sweet and clear;
How fair the coming to it is,
So one therein no raven speer!”
Nur al-Din walked about the city and ceased not walking till her came to the merchants’ bazar, whence he passed on to the mart of the money-changers and so on in turn to the markets of the confectioners and fruiterers and druggists, marvelling, as he went, at the city, for that the nature of its qualities accorded with its name.3 As he walked in the druggists’ bazar, behold, an old man came down from his shop and saluting him, took him by the hand and carried him to his home. And Nur al-Din saw a fair bystreet, swept and sprinkled, whereon the zephyr blew and made pleasantness pervade it and the leaves of the trees overshaded it. Therein stood three houses and at the upper end a mansion, whose foundations were firm sunk in the water and its walls towered to the confines of the sky. They had swept the space before it and they had sprinkled it freshly; so it exhaled the fragrance of flowers, borne on the zephyr which breathed upon the place; and the scent met there who approached it on such wise as it were one of the gardens of Paradise. And, as they had cleaned and cooed the by-street’s head, so was the end of it with marble spread. The Shaykh carried Nur al-Din into the house and setting somewhat of food before him ate with his guest. When they had made an end of eating, the druggist said to him, “When camest thou hither from Cairo?”; and Nur al-Din replied, “This very night, O my father.” Quoth the old man, “What is thy name?”; and quoth he, “Ali Nur al-Din.” Said the druggist, “O my son, O Nur al-Din, be the triple divorce incumbent on me, an thou leave me so long as thou abidest in this city; and I will set thee apart a place wherein thou mayst dwell.” Nur al-Din asked, “O my lord the Shaykh, let me know more of thee”; and the other answered, “Know, O my son, that some years ago I went to Cairo with merchandise, which I sold there and bought other, and I had occasion for a thousand dinars. So thy sire Taj al-Din weighed them out4 for me, all unknowing me, and would take no written word of me, but had patience with me till I returned hither and sent him the amount by one of my servants, together with a gift. I saw thee, whilst thou wast little; and, if it please Allah the Most High, I will repay thee somewhat of the kindness thy father did me.” When Nur al-Din heard the old man’s story, he showed joy and pulling out with a smile the purse of a thousand dinars, gave it to his host the Shaykh and said to him, “Take charge of this deposit for me, against I buy me somewhat of merchandise whereon to trade.” Then he abode some time in Alexandria city taking his pleasure every day in its thoroughfares, eating and drinking ad indulging himself with mirth and merriment till he had made an end of the hundred dinars he had kept by way of spending-money; whereupon he repaired to the old druggist, to take of him somewhat of the thousand dinars to spend, but found him not in his shop and took a seat therein to await his return. He sat there gazing right and left and amusing himself with watching the merchants and passers-by, and as he was thus engaged behold, there came into the bazar a Persian riding on a she-mule and carrying behind him a damsel; as she were argent of alloy free or a fish Balti5 in mimic sea or a doe-gazelle on desert lea. Her face outshone the sun in shine and she had witching eyne and breasts of ivory white, teeth of marguerite, slender waist and sides dimpled deep and calves like tails of fat sheep;6 and indeed she was perfect in beauty and loveliness, elegant stature and symmetrical grace, even as saith one, describing her,7
“’Twas as by will of her she was create
Nor short nor long, but Beauty’s mould and mate:
Rose blushes reddest when she sees those cheeks
And fruits the bough those marvel charms amate:
Moon is her favour, Musk the scent of her
Branch is her shape:– she passeth man’s estate:
’Tis e’en as were she cast in freshest pearl
And every limblet shows a moon innate.”
Presently the Persian lighted down from his she-mule and, making the damsel also dismount, loudly summoned the broker and said to him as soon as he came, “Take this damsel and cry her for sale in the market.” So he took her and leading her to the middlemost of the bazar disappeared for a while and presently he returned with a stool of ebony, inlaid with ivory, and setting it upon the ground, seated her thereon. Then he raised her veil and discovered a face as it were a Median targe8 or a cluster of pearls:9 and indeed she was like the full moon, when it filleth on its fourteenth night, accomplished in brilliant beauty. As saith the poet,
“Vied the full moon for folly with her face,
But was eclipsed10 and split for rage full sore;
And if the spiring Bán with her contend
Perish her hands who load of fuel bore!”11
And how well saith another,
“Say to the fair in the wroughten veil
How hast made that monk-like worshipper ail?
Light of veil and light of face under it
Made the hosts of darkness to fly from bale;
And, when came my glance to steal look at cheek.
With a meteor-shaft the Guard made me quail.”12
Then said the broker to the merchants,13 “How much do ye bid for the union-pearl of the diver and prize-quarry of the fowler?” Quoth one, “She is mine for an hundred dinars.” And another said, “Two hundred,” and a third, “Three hundred”; and they ceased not to bid, one against other, till they made her price nine hundred and fifty dinars, and there the biddings stopped awaiting acceptance and consent.14 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 For a parallel passage in praise of Alexandria see vol. i. 290, etc. The editor or scribe was evidently an Egyptian.
2 Arab. “Saghr” (Thagr), the opening of the lips showing the teeth. See vol. i. p. 156.
3 Iskandariyah, the city of Iskandar or Alexander the Great, whose “Soma” was attractive to the Greeks as the corpse of the Prophet Daniel afterwards was to the Moslems. The choice of site, then occupied only by the pauper village of Rhacotis, is one proof of many that the Macedonian conqueror had the inspiration of genius.
4 i.e. paid them down. See vol. i. 281; vol. ii. 145.
5 Arab. “Baltiyah,” Sonnini’s “Bolti” and Nébuleux (because it is dozid-coloured when fried), the Labrus Niloticus from its labra or large fleshy lips. It lives on the “leaves of Paradise” hence the flesh is delicate and savoury and it is caught with the épervier or sweep-net in the Nile, canals and pools.
6 Arab. “Liyyah,” not a delicate comparison, but exceedingly apt besides rhyming to “Baltiyah.” The cauda of the “five-quarter sheep, whose tails are so broad and thick that there is as much flesh upon them as upon a quarter of their body,” must not be confounded with the lank appendage of our English muttons. See i. 25, Dr. Burnell’s Linschoten (Hakluyt Soc. 1885).
7 A variant occurs in vol. ix. 191.
8 Arab. “Tars Daylami,” a small shield of bright metal.
9 Arab. “Kaukab al-durri,” see Pilgrimage ii. 82.
10 Arab. “Kusúf” applied to the moon; Khusúf being the solar eclipse.
11 May Abú Lahab’s hands perish . . . and his wife be a bearer of faggots!” Korau cxi. 184. The allusion is neat.
12 Alluding to the Angels who shoot down the Jinn. See vol. i. 224. The index misprints “Shibáh.”
13 For a similar scene see Ali Shar and Zumurrud, vol. iv. 187.
14 i.e. of the girl whom as the sequel shows, her owner had promised not to sell without her consent. This was and is a common practice. See vol. iv. 192.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchants bid one against other till they made the price of the girl nine hundred and fifty dinars. Then the broker went up to her Persian master and said to him, “The biddings for this thy slavegirl have reached nine hundred and fifty dinars: so say me, wilt thou sell her at that price and take the money?” Asked the Persian, “Doth she consent to this? I desire to fall in with her wishes, for I sickened on my journey hither and this handmaid tended me with all possible tenderness, wherefore I sware not to sell her but to him whom she should like and approve, and I have put her sale in her own hand. So do thou consult her and if she say, ‘I consent,’ sell her to whom thou wilt: but an she say, ‘No,’ sell her not.” So the broker went up to her and asked her, “O Princess of fair ones, know that thy master putteth thy sale in thine own hands, and thy price hath reached nine hundred and fifty dinars; dost thou give me leave to sell thee?” She answered, “Show me him who is minded to buy me before clinching the bargain.” So he brought her up to one of the merchants a man stricken with years and decrepit; and she looked at him a long while, then turned to the broker and said to him, “O broker, art thou Jinn-mad or afflicted in thy wit?” Replied he, “Why dost thou ask me this, O Princess of fair ones?”; and said she, “Is it permitted thee of Allah to sell the like of me to yonder decrepit old man, who saith of his wife’s case these couplets,
‘Quoth she to me — and sore enraged for wounded pride was she,
For she in sooth had bidden me to that which might not be —
‘An if thou swive me not forthright, as one should swive his wife,
Thou be made a cuckold straight, reproach it not to me.
Meseems thy yard is made of wax, for very flaccidness;
For when I rub it with my hand, it softens instantly.’1
And said he likewise of his yard,
‘I have a yard that sleeps in base and shameful way
When grants my lover boon for which I sue and pray:
But when I wake o’ mornings2 all alone in bed,
’Tis fain o’ foin and fence and fierce for futter-play.’
And again quoth he thereof of his yard,
‘I have a froward yard of temper ill
Dishonoring him who shows it most regard:
It stands when sleep I, when I stand it sleeps
Heaven pity not who pitieth that yard!’”
When the old merchant heard this ill flouting from the damsel, he was wroth with wrath exceeding beyond which was no proceeding and said to the broker, “O most ill-omened of brokers, thou hast not brought into the market this ill-conditioned wench but to gibe me and make mock of me before the merchants.” Then the broker took her aside and said to her, “O my lady, be not wanting in self-respect. The Shaykh at whom thou didst mock is the Syndic of the bazar and Inspector3 thereof and a committee-man of the council of the merchants.” But she laughed and improvised these two couplets,
“It behoveth folk who rule in our time,
And ’tis one of the duties of magistrateship,
To hand up the Wali above his door
And beat with a whip the Mohtasib!”
Adding, “By Allah, O my lord, I will not be sold to yonder old man; so sell me to other than him, for haply he will be abashed at me and vend me again and I shall become a mere servant4 and it beseemeth not that I sully myself with menial service; and indeed thou knowest that the matter of my sale is committed to myself.” He replied, “I hear and I obey,” and carried her to a man which was one of the chief merchants. And when standing hard by him the broker asked, “How sayst thou, O my lady? Shall I sell thee to my lord Sharíf al-Dín here for nine hundred and fifty gold pieces?” She looked at him and, seeing him to be an old man with a dyed beard, said to the broker, “Art thou silly, that thou wouldst sell me to this worn out Father Antic? Am I cotton refuse or threadbare rags that thou marchest me about from greybeard to greybeard, each like a wall ready to fall or an Ifrit smitten down of a fire-ball? As for the first, the poet had him in mind when he said,5
‘I sought of a fair maid to kiss her lips of coral red,
But, ‘No, by Him who fashioned things from nothingness!’ she said.
Unto the white of hoary hairs I never had a mind,
And shall my mouth be stuffed, forsooth, with cotton, ere I’m dead?’
And how goodly is the saying of the poet,
‘The wise have said that white of hair is light that shines and robes
The face of man with majesty and light that awes the sight;
Yet until hoary seal shall stamp my parting-place of hair
I hope and pray that same may be black as the blackest night.
Albe Time-whitened beard of man be like the book he bears6
When to his Lord he must return, I’d rather ’twere not white,’
And yet goodlier is the saying of another,
‘A guest hath stolen on my head and honour may he lack!
The sword a milder deed hath done that dared these locks to hack.
Avaunt, O Whiteness,7 wherein naught of brightness gladdens sight
Thou ‘rt blacker in the eyes of me than very blackest black!’
As for the other, he is a model of wantonness and scurrilousness and a blackener of the face of hoariness; his dye acteth the foulest of lies: and the tongue of his case reciteth these lines,8
‘Quoth she to me, ‘I see thou dy’st thy hoariness;’ and I,
‘I do but hide it from thy sight, O thou mine ear and eye!’
She laughed out mockingly and said, ‘A wonder ’tis indeed!
Thou so aboundest in deceit that even thy hair’s a lie.’
And how excellent is the saying of the poet,
‘O thou who dyest hoariness with black,
That youth wi’ thee abide, at least in show;
Look ye, my lot was dyèd black whilome
And (take my word!) none other hue ’twill grow.’”
When the old man with dyed beard heard such words from the slave-girl, he raged with exceeding rage in fury’s last stage and said to the broker, “O most ill-omened of brokers, this day thou hast brought to our market naught save this gibing baggage to flout at all who are therein, one after other, and fleer at them with flyting verse and idle jest?” And he came down from his shop and smote on the face the broker, who took her an angered and carried her away, saying to her, “By Allah, never in my life saw I a more shameless wench than thyself!9 Thou hast cut off my daily bread and thine own this day and all the merchants will bear me a grudge on thine account.” Then they saw on the way a merchant called Shihab al-Din who bid ten dinars more for her, and the broker asked her leave to sell her to him. Quoth she, “Trot him out that I may see him and question him of a certain thing, which if he have in his house, I will be sold to him; and if not, then not.” So the broker left her standing there and going up to Shihab al-Din, said to him, “O my lord, know that yonder damsel tells me she hath a mind to ask thee somewhat, which an thou have, she will be sold to thee. Now thou hast heard what she said to thy fellows, the merchants,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 These lines have occurred in vol. iii. p. 303. I quote Mr. Payne.
2 Alluding to the erectio et distensio penis which comes on before dawn in tropical lands and which does not denote any desire for women. Some Anglo–Indians term the symptom signum salutis, others a urine-proud pizzle.
3 Arab. “Mohtasib,” in the Maghrib “Mohtab,” the officer charged with inspecting weights and measures and with punishing fraud in various ways such as nailing the cheat’s ears to his shop’s shutter, etc.
4 Every where in the Moslem East the slave holds himself superior to the menial freeman, a fact which I would impress upon the several Anti-slavery Societies, honest men whose zeal mostly exceeds their knowledge, and whose energy their discretion.
5 These lines, extended to three couplets, occur in vol. iv. 193. I quote Mr. Payne.
6 “At this examination (on Judgment Day) Mohammedans also believe that each person will have the book, wherein all the actions of his life are written, delivered to him; which books the righteous will receive in their right hand, and read with great pleasure and satisfaction; but the ungodly will be obliged to take them, against their wills, in their left (Koran xvii. xviii. lxix, and lxxxiv.), which will be bound behind their backs, their right hand being tied to their necks.” Sale, Preliminary Discourse; Sect. iv.
7 “Whiteness” (bayáz) also meaning lustre, honour.
8 This again occurs in vol. iv. 194. So I quote Mr. Payne.
9 Her impudence is intended to be that of a captive Princess.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the broker said to the merchant, “Thou hast heard what this handmaid said to thy fellows, the traders, and by Allah, I fear to bring her to thee, lest she do with thee like as she did with thy neighbours and so I fall into disgrace with thee: but, an thou bid me bring her to thee, I will bring her.” Quoth the merchant, “Hither with her to me.” “Hearing and obeying,” answered the broker and fetched for the purchaser the damsel, who looked at him and said, “O my lord, Shihab al-Din, hast thou in thy house round cushions stuffed with ermine strips?” Replied Shihab al-Din, “Yes, O Princess of fair ones, I have at home half a score such cushions; but I conjure thee by Allah, tell me, what will thou do with them?” Quoth she, “I will bear with thee till thou be asleep, when I will lay them on thy mouth and nose and press them down till thou die.” Then she turned to the broker and said to him, “O thou refuse of brokers, meseemeth thou art mad, in that thou showest me this hour past, first to a pair of greybeards, in each of whom are two faults, and then thou proferrest me to my lord Shihab al-Din wherein be three defects; and thirdly, he is dwarfish, secondly, he hath a nose which is big, and thirdly, he hath a beard which is long. Of him quoth one of the poets,
‘We never heard of wight nor yet espied
Who amid men three gifts hath unified:
To wit, a beard one cubit long, a snout
Span-long and figure tall a finger wide:’
And quoth another poet,
‘From the plain of his face springs a minaret
Like a bezel of ring on his finger set:
Did creation enter that vasty nose
No created thing would elsewhere be met.’”
When Shihab al-Din heard this, he came down from his shop and seized the broker by the collar, saying, “O scurviest of brokers, what aileth thee to bring us a damsel to flout and make mock of us, one after other, with her verses and talk that a curse is?” So the broker took her and carried her away from before him and fared, saying, “By Allah, all my life long, since I have plied this profession never set I eyes on the like of thee for unmannerliness nor aught more curst to me than thy star, for thou hast cut off my livelihood this day and I have gained no profit by thee save cuffs on the neck-nape and catching by the collar!” Then he brought her to the shop of another merchant, owner of negro slaves and white servants, and stationing her before him, said to her, “Wilt thou be sold to this my lord ‘Alá al-Dín?” She looked at him and seeing him hump-backed, said, “This is a Gobbo, and quoth the poet of him,
‘Drawn in thy shoulders are and spine thrust out,
As seeking star which Satan gave the lout;1
Or as he tasted had first smack of scourge
And looked in marvel for a second bout.’
And saith another on the same theme,
‘As one of you who mounted mule,
A sight for me to ridicule:
Is ‘t not a farce? Who feels surprise
An start and bolt with him the mule?’
And another on a similar subject,
‘Oft hunchback addeth to his bunchy back
Faults which gar folk upon his front look black:
Like branch distort and dried by length of days
With citrons hanging from it loose and slack.’”
With this the broker hurried up to her and, carrying her to another merchant, said to her, “Wilt thou be sold to this one?” She looked at him and said, “In very sooth this man is blue-eyed;2 how wilt thou sell me to him?” Quoth one of the poets,
‘His eyelids sore and bleared
Weakness of frame denote:
Arise, ye folk and see
Within his eyes the mote!’”
Then the broker carried her to another and she looked at him and seeing that he had a long beard, said to the broker, “Fie upon thee! This is a ram, whose tail hath sprouted from his gullet. Wilt thou sell me to him, O unluckiest of brokers? Hast thou not heard say: ‘All long of beard are little of wits? Indeed, after the measure of the length of the beard is the lack of sense; and this is a well-known thing among men of understanding.’ As saith one of the poets,
‘Ne’er was a man with beard grown overlong,
Tho’ be he therefor reverenced and fear’d,
But who the shortness noted in his wits
Added to longness noted in his beard.’
And quoth another,3
‘I have a friend with a beard which God hath made to grow to a useless length,
It is like unto one of the nights of winter long and dark and cold.’”
With this the broker took her and turned away with her, and she asked, “Whither goest thou with me?” He answered, “Back to thy master the Persian; it sufficeth me what hath befallen me because of thee this day; for thou hast been the means of spoiling both my trade and his by thine ill manners.” Then she looked about the market right and left, front and rear till, by the decree of the Decreer her eyes fell on Ali Nur al-Din the Cairene. So she gazed at him and saw him4 to be a comely youth of straight slim form and smooth of face, fourteen years old, rare in beauty and loveliness and elegance and amorous grace like the full moon on the fourteenth night with forehead flower-white, and cheeks rosy red, neck like alabaster and teeth than jewels and dews of lips sweeter than sugar, even as saith of him one of his describers,
“Came to match him in beauty and loveliness rare
Full moons and gazelles but quoth I, ‘Soft fare!
Fare softly, gazelles, nor yourselves compare
With him and, O Moons, all your pains forbear!’”
And how well saith another bard,
“Slim-waisted loveling, from his hair and brow
Men wake a-morn in night and light renewed.
Blame not the mole that dwelleth on his cheek
For Nu’uman’s bloom aye shows spot negro-hued.”
When the slave-girl beheld Nur al-Din he interposed between her and her wits; she fell in love to him with a great and sudden fall and her heart was taken with affection for him; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. bent groundwards.
2 See vol. iv. 192. In Marocco Za’ar is applied to a man with fair skin, red hair and blue eyes (Gothic blood?) and the term is not complimentary as “Sultan Yazid Za’ar.”
3 The lines have occurred before (vol. iv. 194). I quote Mr. Lane ii. 440. Both he and Mr. Payne have missed the point in “ba’zu layáli” a certain night when his mistress had left him so lonely.
4 Arab. “Raat-hu.” This apparently harmless word suggests one simlar in sound and meaning which gave some trouble in its day. Says Mohammed in the Koran (ii. 98) “O ye who believe! say not (to the Apostle) Rá‘iná (look at us) but Unzurná (regard us).” “Rá‘iná” as pronounced in Hebrew means “our bad one.”
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the slave-girl beheld Nur al-Din, her heart was taken with affection for him; so she turned to the broker and said to him, “Will not yonder young merchant, who is sitting among the traders in the gown of striped broadcloth, bid somewhat more for me?” The broker replied, “O lady of fair ones, yonder young man is a stranger from Cairo, where his father is chief of the trader-guild and surpasseth all the merchants and notables of the place. He is but lately come to this our city and lodgeth with one of his father’s friends; but he hath made no bid for thee nor more nor less.” When the girl heard the broker’s words, she drew from her finger a costly signet-ring of ruby and said to the man, “Carry me to yonder youth, and if he buy me, this ring shall be thine, in requital of thy travail with me this day.” The broker rejoiced at this and brought her up to Nur al-Din, and she considered him straitly and found him like the full moon, perfect in loveliness and a model of fine stature and symmetric grace, even as saith of him one of his describers.
“Waters of beauty o’er his cheeks flow bright,
And rain his glances shafts that sorely smite:
Choked are his lovers an he deal disdain’s
Bitterest draught denaying love-delight.
His forehead and his stature and my love
Are perfect perfected perfection-dight;
His raiment folds enfold a lovely neck
As crescent moon in collar buttoned tight:
His eyne and twinnèd moles and tears of me
Are night that nighteth to the nightliest night.
His eyebrows and his features and my frame1
Crescents on crescents are as crescents slight:
His pupils pass the wine-cup to his friends
Which, albe sweet, tastes bitter to my sprite;
And to my thirsty throat pure drink he dealt
From smiling lips what day we were unite:
Then is my blood to him, my death to him
His right and rightful and most righteous right.”
The girl gazed at Nur al-Din and said, “O my lord, Allah upon thee, am I not beautiful?”; and he replied, “O Princess of fair ones, is there in the world a comelier than thou?” She rejoined, “Then why seest thou all the other merchants bid high for me and art silent nor sayest a word neither addest one dinar to my price? ‘Twould seem I please thee not, O my lord!” Quoth he, “O my lady, were I in my own land, I had bought thee with all that my hand possesseth of monies;” and quoth she, “O my lord, I said not, ‘Buy me against thy will,’ yet, didst thou but add somewhat to my price, it would hearten my heart, though thou buy me not, so the merchants may say, ‘Were not this girl handsome, yonder merchant of Cairo had not bidden for her, for the Cairenes are connoisseurs in slave-girls.’” These words abashed Nur al-Din and he blushed and said to the broker, “How high are the biddings for her?” He replied, “Her price hath reached nine hundred and sixty dinars,2 besides brokerage, as for the Sultan’s dues, they fall on the seller.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “Let me have her for a thousand dinars, brokerage and price.” And the damsel hastening to the fore and leaving the broker, said “I sell myself to this handsome young man for a thousand dinars.” But Nur al-Din held his peace. Quoth one, “We sell to him;” and another, “He deserveth her;” and a third, “Accursed, son of accursed, is he who biddeth and doth not buy!”; and a fourth, “By Allah, they befit each other!” Then, before Nur al-Din could think, the broker fetched Kazis and witnesses, who wrote out a contract of sale and purchase; and the broker handed the paper to Nur al-Din, saying, “Take thy slave-girl and Allah bless thee in her for she beseemeth none but thee and none but thou beseemeth her.” And he recited these two couplets,
“Boom Fortune sought him in humblest way3
And came to him draggle-tailed, all a-stir:
And none is fittest for him but she
And none is fittest but he for her.”
Hereat Nur al-Din was abashed before the merchants; so he arose without stay or delay and weighed out the thousand dinars which he had left as a deposit with his father’s friend the druggist, and taking the girl, carried her to the house wherein the Shaykh had lodged him. When she entered and saw nothing but ragged patched carpets and worn out rugs, she said to him, “O my lord, have I no value to thee and am I not worthy that thou shouldst bear me to thine own house and home wherein are thy goods, that thou bringest me into thy servant’s lodging? Why dost thou not carry me to thy father’s dwelling?” He replied, “By Allah, O Princess of fair ones, this is my house wherein I dwell; but it belongeth to an old man, a druggist of this city, who hath set it apart for me and lodged me therein. I told thee that I was a stranger and that I am of the sons of Cairo city.” She rejoined, “O my lord, the least of houses sufficeth till thy return to thy native place; but, Allah upon thee, O my lord, go now and fetch us somewhat of roast meat and wine and dried fruit and dessert.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “By Allah, O Princess of fair ones, I had no money with me but the thousand dinars I paid down to thy price nor possess I any other good. The few dirhams I owned were spent by me yesterday.” Quoth she, “Hast thou no friend in the town, of whom thou mayst borrow fifty dirhams and bring them to me, that I may tell thee what thou shalt do therewith?” And he said, “I have no intimate but the druggist.” Then he betook himself forthright to the druggist and said to him, “Peace be with thee, O uncle!” He returned his salam and said to him, “O my son, what hast thou bought for a thousand dinars this day?” Nur al-Din replied, “I have bought a slave-girl;” and the oldster rejoined, “O my son, art thou mad that thou givest a thousand dinars for one slave-girl? Would I knew what kind of slave-girl she is?” Said Nur al-Din, “She is a damsel of the children of the Franks;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 By reason of its leanness.
2 In the Mac. Edit. “Fifty.” For a scene which illustrates this mercantile transaction see my Pilgrimage i. 88, and its deduction. “How often is it our fate, in the West as in the East, to see in bright eyes and to hear from rosy lips an implied, if not an expressed ‘Why don’t you buy me?’ or, worse still, ‘Why can’t you buy me?’”
3 See vol. ii. 165 dragging or trailing the skirts = walking without the usual strut or swagger: here it means assuming the humble manners of a slave in presence of the master.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din said to the ancient druggist, “The damsel is of the children of the Franks;” and the Shaykh said, “O my son, the best of the girls of the Franks are to be had in this our town for an hundred dinars, and by Allah, O my son, they have cheated thee in the matter of this damsel! However, an thou have taken a fancy to her, lie with her this night and do thy will of her and to-morrow morning go down with her to the market and sell her, though thou lose by her two hundred dinars, and reckon that thou hast lost them by shipwreck or hast been robbed of them on the road.” Nur al-Din replied, “Right is thy rede, O uncle, but thou knowest that I had but the thousand dinars wherewith I purchased the damsel, and now I have not a single dirham left to spend; so I desire of thy favour and bounty that thou lend me fifty dirhams, to provide me withal, till to-morrow, when I will sell her and repay thee out of her price.” Said the old man, “Willingly, O my son,” and counted out to him the fifty dirhams. Then he said to him, “O my son, thou art but young in years and the damsel is fair, so belike thy heart will be taken with her and it will be grievous to thee to vend her. Now thou hast nothing to live on and these fifty dirhams will readily be spent and thou wilt come to me and I shall lend thee once and twice and thrice, and so on up to ten times; but, an thou come to me after this, I will not return thy salam1 and our friendship with thy father will end ill.” Nur al-Din took the fifty dirhams and returned with them to the damsel, who said to him, “O my lord, wend thee at once to the market and fetch me twenty dirhams’ worth of stained silk of five colours and with the other thirty buy meat and bread and fruit and wine and flowers.” So he went to the market and purchasing for her all she sought, brought it to her, whereupon she rose and tucking up her sleeves, cooked food after the most skilful fashion, and set it before him. He ate and she ate with him, till they had enough, after which she set on the wine, and she drank and he drank, and she ceased not to ply him with drink and entertain him with discourse, till he became drunken and fell asleep. Thereupon she arose without stay or delay and taking out of her bundle a budget of Táifí leather,2 opened it and drew forth a pair of knitting needles, wherewith she fell to work and stinted not till she had made a beautiful zone, which she folded up in a wrapper after cleaning it and ironing it, and laid it under her pillow. Then she doffed her dress till she was mother-naked and lying down beside Nur al-Din shampoo’d him till he awoke from his heavy sleep. He found by his side a maiden like virgin silver, softer than silk and delicater than a tail of fatted sheep, than standard more conspicuous and goodlier than the red camel,3 in height five feet tall with breasts firm and full, brows like bended bows, eyes like gazelles’ eyes and cheeks like blood-red anemones, a slender waist with dimples laced and a navel holding an ounce of the unguent benzoin, thighs like bolsters stuffed with ostrich-down, and between them what the tongue fails to set forth and at mention whereof the tears jet forth. Brief it was as it were she to whom the poet alluded in these two couplets,
“From her hair is Night, from her forehead Noon
From her side-face Rose; from her lip wine boon:
From her Union Heaven, her Severance Hell:
Pearls from her teeth; from her front full Moon.”
And how excellent is the saying of another bard,4
“A Moon she rises, Willow-wand she waves
Breathes ambergris and gazeth a gazelle.
Meseems that sorrow wooes my heart and wins
And when she wends makes haste therein to dwell.
Her face is fairer than the Stars of Wealth5
And sheeny brows the crescent Moon excel.”
And quoth a third also,
“They shine fullest Moons, unveil Crescent-bright;
Sway tenderest Branches and turn wild kine;
’Mid which is a Dark-eyed for love of whose charms
The Sailors6 would joy to be ground low-li’en.”
So Nur al-Din turned to her at once and clasping her to his bosom, sucked first her upper lip and then her under lip and slid his tongue between the twain into her mouth. Then he rose to her and found her a pearl unthridden and a filly none but he had ridden. So he abated her maidenhead and had of her amorous delight and there was knitted between them a love-bond which might never know breach nor severance.7 He rained upon her cheeks kisses like the falling of pebbles into water, and struck with stroke upon stroke, like the thrusting of spears in battle brunt; for that Nur al-Din still yearned after clipping of necks and sucking of lips and letting down of tress and pressing of waist and biting of cheek and cavalcading on breast with Cairene buckings and Yamani wrigglings and Abyssinian sobbings and Hindí pamoisons and Nubian lasciviousness and Rífí leg-liftings8 and Damiettan moanings and Sa’ídí9 hotness and Alexandrian languishment10 and this damsel united in herself all these virtues, together with excess of beauty and loveliness, and indeed she was even as saith of her the poet,
“This is she I will never forget till I die
Nor draw near but to those who to her draw nigh.
A being for semblance like Moon at full
Praise her Maker, her Modeller glorify!
Tho’ be sore my sin seeking love-liesse
On esperance-day ne’er repent can I;
A couplet reciting which none can know
Save the youth who in couplets and rhymes shall cry,
‘None weeteth love but who bears its load
Nor passion, save pleasures and pains he aby.’”
So Nur al-Din lay with the damsel through the night in solace and delight — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is the Moslem form of “boycotting”: so amongst early Christians they refused to give one another God-speed. Amongst Hindús it takes the form of refusing “Hukkah (pipe) and water” which practically makes a man an outcast. In the text the old man expresses the popular contempt for those who borrow and who do not repay. He had evidently not read the essay of Elia on the professional borrower.
2 See note p. 273.
3 i.e. the best kind of camels.
4 This first verse has occurred three times.
5 Arab. “Surayyá” in Dictionaries a dim. of Sarwá = moderately rich. It may either denote abundance of rain or a number of stars forming a constellation. Hence in Job (xxxviii. 31) it is called a heap (kímah).
6 Pleiads in Gr. the Stars whereby men sail.
7 This is the Eastern idea of the consequence of satisfactory coition which is supposed to be the very seal of love. Westerns have run to the other extreme.
8 “Al-Ríf” simply means lowland: hence there is a Ríf in the Nile-delta. The word in Europe is applied chiefly to the Maroccan coast opposite Gibraltar (not, as is usually supposed the North–Western seaboard) where the Berber–Shilhá race, so famous as the “Rif pirates” still closes the country to travellers.
9 i.e. Upper Egypt.
10 These local excellencies of coition are described jocosely rather than anthropologically.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din lay with that damsel through the night in solace and delight, the twain garbed in the closely buttoned garments of embrace, safe and secure against the misways of nights and days, and they passed the dark hours after the goodliest fashion, fearing naught, in their joys love-fraught, from excess of talk and prate. As saith of them the right excellent poet,1
“Go, visit her thou lovest, and regard not The words detractors utter; envious churls Can never favour love. Oh! sure the merciful Ne’er make a thing more fair to look upon, Than two fond lovers in each other’s arms, Speaking their passion in a mute embrace. When heart has turned to heart, the fools would part them Strike idly on cold steel. So when thou’st found One purely, wholly thine, accept her true heart, And live for her alone. Oh! thou that blamest The love-struck for their love, give o’er thy talk How canst thou minister to a mind diseased?”
When the morning morrowed in sheen and shone, Nur al-Din awoke from deep sleep and found that she had brought water:2 so they made the Ghusl-ablution, he and she, and he performed that which behoved him of prayer to his Lord, after which she set before him meat and drink, and he ate and drank. Then the damsel put her hand under her pillow and pulling out the girdle which she had knitted during the night, gave it to Nur al-Din, who asked, “Whence cometh this girdle?”3 Answered she, “O my lord, ’tis the silk thou boughtest yesterday for twenty dirhams. Rise now and go to the Persian bazar and give it to the broker, to cry for sale, and sell it not for less than twenty gold pieces in ready money.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “O Princess of fair ones how can a thing, that cost twenty dirhams and will sell for as many dinars, be made in a single night?”; and quoth she, “O my lord, thou knowest not the value of this thing; but go to the market therewith and give it to the broker, and when he shall cry it, its worth will be made manifest to thee.” Herewith he carried the zone to the market and gave it to the broker, bidding him cry it, whilst he himself sat down on a masonry bench before a shop. The broker fared forth and returning after a while said to him, “O my lord, rise take the price of thy zone, for it hath fetched twenty dinars money down.” When Nur al-Din heard this, he marvelled with exceeding marvel and shook with delight. Then he rose, between belief and misbelief, to take the money and when he had received it, he went forthright and spent it all on silk of various colours and returning home, gave his purchase to the damsel, saying, “Make this all into girdles and teach me likewise how to make them, that I may work with thee; for never in the length of my life saw I a fairer craft than this craft nor a more abounding in gain and profit. By Allah, ’tis better than the trade of a merchant a thousand times!” She laughed at his language and said, “O my lord, go to thy friend the druggist and borrow other thirty dirhams of him, and to-morrow repay him from the price of the girdle the thirty together with the fifty already loaned to thee.” So he rose and repaired to the druggist and said to him, “O Uncle, lend me other thirty dirhams, and to-morrow, Almighty Allah willing, I will repay thee the whole fourscore.” The old man weighed him out thirty dirhams, wherewith he went to the market and buying meat and bread, dried fruits, and flowers as before, carried them home to the damsel whose name was Miriam,4 the Girdle-girl. She rose forthright and making ready rich meats, set them before her lord Nur al-Din; after which she brought the wine-service and they drank and plied each other with drink. When the wine began to play with their wits, his pleasant address and inner grace pleased her, and she recited these two couplets,
“Said I to Slim-waist who the wine engraced
Brought in musk-scented bowl and a superfine,
‘Was it prest from thy cheek?’ He replied ‘Nay, nay!
When did man from Roses e’er press the Wine?’”
And the damsel ceased not to carouse with her lord and ply him with cup and bowl and require him to fill for her and give her to drink of that which sweeteneth the spirits, and whenever he put forth hand to her, she drew back from him, out of coquetry. The wine added to her beauty and loveliness, and Nur al-Din recited these two couplets,
“Slim-waist craved wine from her companeer;
Cried (in meeting of friends when he feared for his fere,)
‘An thou pass not the wine thou shalt pass the night,
A-banisht my bed!’ And he felt sore fear.”
They ceased not drinking till drunkenness overpowered Nur al-Din and he slept; whereupon she rose forthright and fell to work upon a zone, as was her wont. When she had wrought it to end, she wrapped it in paper and doffing her clothes, lay down by his side and enjoyed dalliance and delight till morn appeared. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 See vol. i. 223: I take from Torrens, p. 223.
2 For the complete ablution obligatory after copulation before prayers can be said. See vol. vi. 199.
3 Arab. “Zunnár,” the Greek {Greek text}, for which, see vol. ii. 215.
4 Miriam (Arabic Maryam), is a Christian name, in Moslem lands. Abú Maryam “Mary’s father” (says Motarrazi on Al–Hariri, Ass. of Alexandria) is a term of contempt, for men are called after sons (e.g. Abu Zayd), not after daughters. In more modern authors Abu Maryam is the name of ushers and lesser officials in the Kazi’s court.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Miriam the Girdle-girl, having finished her zone and wrapped it in paper doffed her dress and lay down by the side of her lord; and then happened to them what happened of dalliance and delight; and he did his devoir like a man. On the morrow, she gave him the girdle and said to him, “Carry this to the market and sell it for twenty dinars, even as thou soldest its fellow yesterday.” So he went to the bazar and sold the girdle for twenty dinars, after which he repaired to the druggist and paid him back the eighty dirhams, thanking him for the bounties and calling down blessings upon him. He asked, “O my son, hast thou sold the damsel?”; and Nur al-Din answered, “Wouldst thou have me sell the soul out of my body?” and he told him all that had passed, from commencement to conclusion, whereat the druggist joyed with joy galore, than which could be no more and said to him, “By Allah, O my son, thou gladdenest me! Inshallah, mayst thou ever be in prosperity! Indeed I wish thee well by reason of my affection for thy ather and the continuance of my friendship with him.” Then Nur al-Din left the Shaykh and straightway going to the market, bought meat and fruit and wine and all that he needed according to his custom and returned therewith to Miriam. They abode thus a whole year in eating and drinking and mirth and merriment and love and good comradeship, and every night she made a zone and he sold it on the morrow for twenty dinars, wherewith he bought their needs and gave the rest to her, to keep against a time of necessity. After the twelvemonth she said to him one day, “O my lord, whenas thou sellest the girdle to-morrow, buy for me with its price silk of six colours, because I am minded to make thee a kerchief to wear on thy shoulders, such as never son of merchant, no, nor King’s son, ever rejoiced in its like.” So next day he fared forth to the bazar and after selling the zone brought her the dyed silks she sought and Miriam the Girdle-girl wrought at the kerchief a whole week, for, every night, when she had made an end of the zone, she would work awhile at the kerchief till it was finished. Then she gave it to Nur al-Din, who put it on his shoulders and went out to walk in the market-place, whilst all the merchants and folk and notables of the town crowded about him, to gaze on his beauty and that of the kerchief which was of the most beautiful. Now it chanced that one night, after this, he awoke from sleep and found Miriam weeping passing sore and reciting these couplets,
“Nears my parting fro’ my love, nigher draws the Severance-day
Ah well-away for parting! and again ah well-away!
And in tway is torn my heart and O pine I’m doomed to bear
For the nights that erst witnessed our pleasurable play!
No help for it but Envier the twain of us espy
With evil eye and win to us his lamentable way.
For naught to us is sorer than the jealousy of men
And the backbiter’s eyne that with calumny affray.”
He said, “O my lady Miriam,1 what aileth thee to weep?”; and she replied, “I weep for the anguish of parting for my heart presageth me thereof.” Quoth he, “O lady of fair ones, and who shall interpose between us, seeing that I love thee above all creatures and tender thee the most?”; and quoth she, “And I love thee twice as well as thou me; but fair opinion of fortune still garreth folk fall into affliction, and right well saith the poet,2
‘Think’st thou thyself all prosperous, in days which prosp’rous
be,
Nor fearest thou impending ill, which comes by Heaven’s decree?
We see the orbs of heav’n above, how numberless they are,
But sun and moon alone eclips’d, and ne’er a lesser star!
And many a tree on earth we see, some bare, some leafy green,
Of them, not one is hurt with stone save that has fruitful been!
See’st not th’ refluent ocean, bear carrion on its tide,
While pearls beneath its wavy flow, fixed in the deep, abide?’”
Presently she added, “O my lord Nur al-Din, an thou desire to nonsuit separation, be on thy guard against a swart-visaged oldster, blind of the right eye and lame of the left leg; for he it is who will be the cause of our severance. I saw him enter the city and I opine that he is come hither in quest of me.” Replied Nur al-Din, “O lady of fair ones, if my eyes light on him, I will slay him and make an example of him.” Rejoined she, “O my lord, slay him not; but talk not nor trade with him, neither buy nor sell with him nor sit nor walk with him nor speak one word to him, no, not even the answer prescribed by law,3 and I pray Allah to preserve us from his craft and his mischief.” Next morning, Nur al-Din took the zone and carried it to the market, where he sat down on a shop-bench and talked with the sons of the merchants, till the drowsiness preceding slumber overcame him and he lay down on the bench and fell asleep. Presently, behold, up came the Frank whom the damsel had described to him, in company with seven others, and seeing Nur al-Din lying asleep on the bench, with his head wrapped in the kerchief which Miriam had made for him and the edge thereof in his grasp, sat down by him and hent the end of the kerchief in hand and examined it, turning it over for some time. Nur al-Din sensed that there was something and awoke; then, seeing the very man of whom Miriam had warned him sitting by his side, cried out at him with a great cry which startled him. Quoth the Frank, “What aileth thee to cry out thus at us? Have we taken from thee aught?”; and quoth Nur al-Din, “By Allah, O accursed, haddest thou taken aught from me, I would carry thee before the Chief of Police!” Then said the Frank, “O Moslem, I conjure thee by thy faith and by that wherein thou believest, inform me whence thou haddest this kerchief;” and Nur al-Din replied, “Tis the handiwork of my lady mother,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This formality, so contrary to our Western familiarity after possession, is an especial sign of good breeding amongst Arabs and indeed all Eastern nations. It reminds us of the “grand manner” in Europe two hundred years ago, not a trace of which now remains.
2 These lines are in Night i. ordered somewhat differently: so I quote Torrens (p. 14).
3 i.e. to the return Salám —“And with thee be peace and the mercy of Allah and His blessings!” See vol. ii. 146. The enslaved Princess had recognised her father’s Wazir and knew that he could have but one object, which being a man of wit and her lord a “raw laddie,” he was sure to win.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Frank asked Nur al-Din anent the maker of the kerchief, he answered, saying, “In very sooth this kerchief is the handiwork of my mother, who made it for me with her own hand.” Quoth the Frank “Wilt thou sell it to me and take ready money for it?,” and quoth Nur al-Din, “By Allah, I will not sell it to thee or to any else, for she made none other than it.” “Sell it to me and I will give thee to its price this very moment five hundred dinars, money down; and let her who made it make thee another and a finer.” “I will not sell it at all, for there is not the like of it in this city.” “O my lord, wilt thou sell it for six hundred ducats of fine gold?” And the Frank went on to add to his offer hundred by hundred, till he bid nine hundred dinars; but Nur al-Din said, “Allah will open to me otherwise than by my vending it. I will never sell it, not for two thousand dinars nor more than that; no, never.” The Frank ceased not to tempt him with money, till he bid him a thousand dinars, and the merchants present said, “We sell thee the kerchief at that price:1 pay down the money.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “I will not sell it, I swear by Allah!”2 But one of the merchants said to him, “Know thou, O my son, that the value of this kerchief is an hundred dinars at most and that to an eager purchaser, and if this Frank pay thee down a thousand for it, thy profit will be nine hundred dinars, and what gain canst thou desire greater than this gain? Wherefore ’tis my rede that thou sell him this kerchief at that price and bid her who wrought it make thee other finer than it: so shalt thou profit nine hundred dinars by this accursed Frank, the enemy of Allah and of The Faith.” Nur al-Din was abashed at the merchants and sold the kerchief to the Frank, who, in their presence, paid him down the thousand dinars, with which he would have returned to his handmaid to congratulate her on what had passed; but the stranger said, “Harkye, O company of merchants, stop my lord Nur al-Din, for you and he are my guests this night. I have a jar of old Greek wine and a fat lamb, fresh fruit, flowers and confections; wherefore do ye all cheer me with your company to-night and not one of you tarry behind.” So the merchants said, “O my lord Nur al-Din, we desire that thou be with us on the like of this night, so we may talk together, we and thou, and we pray thee, of thy favour and bounty, to bear us company, so we and thou, may be the guests of this Frank, for he is a liberal man.” And they conjured him by the oath of divorce3 and hindered him by main force from going home. Then they rose forthright and shutting up their shops, took Nur al-Din and fared with the Frank, who brought them to a goodly and spacious saloon, wherein were two daïses. Here he made them sit and set before them a scarlet tray-cloth of goodly workmanship and unique handiwork, wroughten in gold with figures of breaker and broken, lover and beloved, asker and asked, whereon he ranged precious vessels of porcelain and crystal, full of the costliest confections, fruits and flowers, and brought them a flagon of old Greek wine. Then he bade slaughter a fat lamb and kindling fire, proceeded to roast of its flesh and feed the merchants therewith and give them draughts of that wine, winking at them the while to ply Nur al-Din with drink. Accordingly they ceased not plying him with wine till he became drunken and took leave of his wits; so when the Frank saw that he was drowned in liquor, he said to him, “O my lord Nur al-Din, thou gladdenest us with thy company to-night: welcome, and again welcome to thee.” Then he engaged him awhile in talk, till he could draw near to him, when he said, with dissembling speech, “O my lord, Nur al-Din, wilt thou sell me thy slave-girl, whom thou boughtest in presence of these merchants a year ago for a thousand dinars? I will give thee at this moment five thousand gold pieces for her and thou wilt thus make four thousand ducats profit.” Nur al-Din refused, but the Frank ceased not to ply him with meat and drink and lure him with lucre, still adding to his offers, till he bid him ten thousand dinars for her; whereupon Nur al-Din, in his drunkenness, said before the merchants, “I sell her to thee for ten thousand dinars: hand over the money.” At this the Frank rejoiced with joy exceeding and took the merchants to witness the sale. They passed the night in eating and drinking, mirth and merriment, till the morning, when the Frank cried out to his pages, saying, “Bring me the money.” So they brought it to him and he counted out ten thousand dinars to Nur al-Din, saying, “O my lord, take the price of thy slave-girl, whom thou soldest to me last night, in the presence of these Moslem merchants.” Replied Nur al-Din, “O accursed, I sold thee nothing and thou liest anent me, for I have no slave-girls.” Quoth the Frank, “In very sooth thou didst sell her to me and these merchants were witnesses to the bargain.” Thereupon all said, “Yes, indeed! thou soldest him thy slave-girl before us for ten thousand dinars, O Nur al-Din and we will all bear witness against thee of the sale. Come, take the money and deliver him the girl, and Allah will give thee a better than she in her stead. Doth it irk thee, O Nur al-Din, that thou boughtest the girl for a thousand dinars and hast enjoyed for a year and a half her beauty and loveliness and taken thy fill of her converse and her favours? Furthermore thou hast gained some ten thousand golden dinars by the sale of the zones which she made thee every day and thou soldest for twenty sequins, and after all this thou hast sold her again at a profit of nine thousand dinars over and above her original price. And withal thou deniest the sale and belittlest and makest difficulties about the profit! What gain is greater than this gain and what profit wouldst thou have profitabler than this profit? An thou love her thou hast had thy fill of her all this time: so take the money and buy thee another handsomer than she; at a dowry of less than half this price, and the rest of the money will remain in thy hand as capital.” And the merchants ceased not to ply him with persuasion and special arguments till he took the ten thousand dinars, the price of the damsel, and the Frank straightway fetched Kazis and witnesses, who drew up the contract of sale by Nur al-Din of the handmaid hight Miriam the Girdle-girl. Such was his case; but as regards the damsel’s, she sat awaiting her lord from morning till sundown and from sundown till the noon of night; and when he returned not, she was troubled and wept with sore weeping. The old druggist heard her sobbing and sent his wife, who went in to her and finding her in tears, said to her, “O my lady, what aileth her and finding her in tears, said to her, “O my lady, what aileth thee to weep?” Said she, “O my mother, I have sat waiting the return of my lord, Nur al-Din all day; but he cometh not, and I fear lest some one have played a trick on him, to make him sell me, and he have fallen into the snare and sold me.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 It is quite in Moslem manners for the bystanders to force the sale seeing a silly lad reject a most advantageous offer for sentimental reasons. And the owner of the article would be bound by their consent.
2 Arab. “Wa’llahi.” “Bi” is the original particle of swearing, a Harf al-jarr (governing the genitive as Bi’lláhi) and suggesting the idea of adhesion: “Wa” (noting union) is its substitute in oath-formulæ and “Ta” takes the place of Wa as Ta’lláhi. The three-fold forms are combined in a great “swear.”
3 i.e. of divorcing their own wives.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Miriam the Girdle-girl said to the druggist’s wife, “I am fearful lest some one have been playing a trick on my lord to make him sell me, and he have fallen into the snare and sold me.” Said the other, “O my lady Miriam, were they to give thy lord this hall full of gold as thy price, yet would he not sell thee, for what I know of his love to thee. But, O my lady, belike there be a company come from his parents at Cairo and he hath made them an entertainment in the lodging where they alighted, being ashamed to bring them hither, for that the place is not spacious enough for them or because their condition is less than that he should bring them to his own house; or belike he preferred to conceal thine affair from them, so passed the night with them; and Inshallah! to-morrow he will come to thee safe and sound. So burden not thy soul with cark and care, O my lady, for of a certainty this is the cause of his absence from thee last night and I will abide with thee this coming night and comfort thee, until thy lord return to thee.” So the druggist’s wife abode with her and cheered her with talk throughout the dark hours and, when it was morning, Miriam saw her lord enter the street followed by the Frank and amiddlemost a company of merchants, at which sight her side-muscles quivered and her colour changed and she fell a-shaking, as ship shaketh in mid-ocean for the violence of the gale. When the druggist’s wife saw this, she said to her, “O my lady Miriam what aileth thee that I see thy case changed and thy face grown pale and show disfeatured?” Replied she, “By Allah, O my lady, my heart forebodeth me of parting and severance of union!” And she bemoaned herself with the saddest sighs, reciting these couplets,1
“Incline not to parting, I pray;
For bitter its savour is aye.
E’en the sun at his setting turns pale
To think he must part from the day;
And so, at his rising, for joy
Of reunion, he’s radiant and gay.”
Then Miriam wept passing sore wherethan naught could be more, making sure of separation, and cried to the druggist’s wife, “O my mother, said I not to thee that my lord Nur al-Din had been tricked into selling me? I doubt not but he hath sold me this night to yonder Frank, albeit I bade him beware of him; but deliberation availeth not against destiny. So the truth of my words is made manifest to thee.” Whilst they were talking, behold, in came Nur al-Din, and the damsel looked at him and saw that his colour was changed and that he trembled and there appeared on his face signs of grief and repentance: so she said to him, “O my lord Nur al-Din, meseemeth thou hast sold me.” Whereupon he wept with sore weeping and groaned and lamented and recited these couplets,2
“When e’er the Lord ’gainst any man, Would fulminate some harsh decree, And he be wise, and skilled to hear, And used to see; He stops his ears, and blinds his heart, And from his brain ill judgment tears, And makes it bald as ’twere a scalp, Reft of its hairs;3 Until the time when the whole man Be pierced by this divine command; Then He restores him intellect To understand.”
Then Nur al-Din began to excuse himself to his handmaid, saying, “By Allah, O my lady Miriam, verily runneth the Reed with whatso Allah hath decreed. The folk put a cheat on me to make me sell thee, and I fell into the snare and sold thee. Indeed, I have sorely failed of my duty to thee; but haply He who decreed our disunion will vouchsafe us reunion.” Quoth she, “I warned thee against this, for this it was I dreaded.” Then she strained him to her bosom and kissed him between the eyes, reciting these couplets,
“Now, by your love! your love I’ll ne’er forget,
Though lost my life for stress of pine and fret:
I weep and wail through livelong day and night
As moans the dove on sandhill-tree beset.
O fairest friends, your absence spoils my life;
Nor find I meeting-place as erst we met.”
At this juncture, behold, the Frank came in to them and went up to Miriam, to kiss her hands; but she dealt him a buffet with her palm on the cheek, saying, “Avaunt, O accursed! Thou hast followed after me without surcease, till thou hast cozened my lord into selling me! But O accursed, all shall yet be well, Inshallah!” The Frank laughed at her speech and wondered at her deed and excused himself to her, saying, “O my lady Mirian, what is my offence? Thy lord Nur al-Din here sold thee of his full consent and of his own free will. Had he loved thee, by the right of the Messiah, he had not transgressed against thee! And had he not fulfilled his desire of thee, he had not sold thee.” Quoth one of the poets,
‘Whom I irk let him fly fro’ me fast and faster
If I name his name I am no directer.
Nor the wide wide world is to me so narrow
That I act expecter to this rejecter.’”4
Now this handmaid was the daughter of the King of France, the which is a wide an spacious city,5 abounding in manufactures and rarities and trees and flowers and other growths, and resembleth the city of Constantinople; and for her going forth of her father’s city there was a wondrous cause and thereby hangeth a marvellous tale which we will set out in due order, to divert and delight the hearer.6 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These lines have occurred before: I quote Mr. Payne.
2 These lines are in Night xxvi., vol. i. 275: I quote Torrens (p. 277), with a correction for “when ere.”
3 This should be “draws his senses from him as one pulls hair out of paste.”
4 Rághib and Záhid: see vol. v. 141.
5 Carolus Magnus then held court in Paris; but the text evidently alludes to one of the port-cities of Provence as Marseille which we English will miscall Marseilles.
6 Here the writer, not the young wife, speaks; but as a tale-teller he says “hearer”not “reader.”
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the cause of Miriam the Girdle-girl leaving her father and mother was a wondrous and thereby hangeth a marvellous tale. She was reared with her father and mother in honour and indulgence and learnt rhetoric and penmanship and arithmetic and cavalarice and all manner crafts, such as broidery and sewing and weaving and girdle-making and silk-cord making and damascening gold on silver and silver on gold, brief all the arts both of men and women, till she became the union-pearl of her time and the unique gem of her age and day. Moreover, Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) had endowed her with such beauty and loveliness and elegance and perfection of grace that she excelled therein all the folk of her time, and the Kings of the isles sought her in marriage of her sire, but he refused to give her to wife to any of her suitors, for that he loved her with passing love and could not bear to be parted from her a single hour. Moreover, he had no other daughter than herself, albeit he had many sons, but she was dearer to him than all of them. It fortuned one year that she fell sick of an exceeding sickness and came nigh upon death, werefore she made a vow that, if she recovered from her malady, she would make the pilgrimage to a certain monastery, situate in such an island, which was high in repute among the Franks, who used to make vows to it and look for a blessing therefrom. When Miriam recovered from her sickness, she wished to accomplish her vow anent the monastery and her sire despatched her to the convent in a little ship, with sundry daughters of the city-notables to wait upon her and patrician Knights to protect them all. As they drew near the island, there came out upon them a ship of the ships of the Moslems, champions of The Faith, warring in Allah’s way, who boarded the vessel and making prize of all therein, knights and maidens, gifts and monies, sold their booty in the city of Kayrawán.1 Miriam herself fell into the hands of a Persian merchant, who was born impotent2 and for whom no woman had ever discovered her nakedness; so he set her to serve him. Presently, he fell ill and sickened well nigh unto death, and the sickness abode with him two months, during which she tended him after the goodliest fashion, till Allah made him whole of his malady, when he recalled her tenderness and loving-kindness to him and the persistent zeal with which she had nurst him and being minded to requite her the good offices she had done him, said to her, “Ask a boon of me?” She said, “O my lord, I ask of thee that thou sell me not but to the man of my choice.” He answered, “So be it. I guarantee thee. By Allah, O Miriam, I will not sell thee but to him of whom thou shalt approve, and I put thy sale in thine own hand.” And she rejoiced herein with joy exceeding. Now the Persian had expounded to her Al–Islam and she became a Moslemah and learnt of him the rules of worship. Furthermore during that period the Perisan had taught her the tenets of The Faith and the observances incumbent upon her: he had made her learn the Koran by heart and master somewhat of the theological sciences and the traditions of the Prophet; after which, he brought her to Alexandria-city and sold her to Nur al-Din, as we have before set out. Meanwhile, when her father, the King of France, heard what had befallen his daughter and her company, he saw Doomsday break and sent after her ships full of knights and champions, horsemen and footsmen; but they fell not in any trace of her whom they sought in the Islands3 of the Moslems; so all returned to him, crying out and saying, “Well-away!” and “Ruin!” and “Well worth the day!” The King grieved for her with exceeding grief and sent after her that one-eyed lameter, blind of the left,4 for that he was his chief Wazir, a stubborn tyrant and a froward devil,5 full of craft and guile, bidding him make search for her in all the lands of the Moslems and buy her, though with a ship-load of gold. So the accursed sought her, in all the islands of the Arabs and all the cities of the Moslems, but found no sign of her till he came to Alexandria-city where he made quest for her and presently discovered that she was with Nur al-Din Ali the Cairene, being directed to the trace of her by the kerchief aforesaid, for that none could have wrought it in such goodly guise but she. Then he bribed the merchants to help him in getting her from Nur al-Din and beguiled her lord into selling her, as hath been already related. When he had her in his possession, she ceased not to weep and wail: so he said to her, “O my lady Miriam, put away from thee this mourning and grieving and return with me to the city of thy sire, the seat of thy kingship and the place of thy power and thy home, so thou mayst be among thy servants and attendants and be quit of this abasement and this strangerhood. Enough hath betided me of travail, of travel and of disbursing monies on thine account, for thy father bade me buy thee back, though with a shipload of gold; and now I have spent nigh a year and a half in seeking thee.” And he fell to kissing her hands and feet and humbling himself to her; but the more he kissed and grovelled she only redoubled in wrath against him, and said to him, “O accursed, may Almighty Allah not vouchsafe thee to win thy wish!” Presently his pages brought her a shemule with gold-embroidered housings and mounting her thereon, raised over her head a silken canopy, with staves of gold and silver, and the Franks walked round about her, till they brought her forth the city by the sea-gate,6 where they took boat with her and rowing out to a great ship in harbor embarked therein. Then the monocular Wazir cried out to the sailors, saying, “Up with the mast!” So they set it up forthright and spreading the newly bent sails and the colours manned the sweeps and put out to sea. Meanwhile Miriam continued to gaze upon Alexandria, till it disappeared from her eyes, when she fell a-weeping in her privacy with sore weeping. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Kayrawán, the Arab. form of the Greek Cyrene which has lately been opened to travellers and has now lost the mystery which enschrouded it. In Hafiz and the Persian poets it is the embodiment of remoteness and secrecy; as we till the last quarter century spoke of the “deserts of Central Africa.”
2 Arab. “‘Innín”: alluding to all forms of impotence, from dislike, natural deficiency or fascination, the favourite excuse. Easterns seldom attribute it to the true cause, weak action of the heart; but the Romans knew the truth when they described one of its symptoms as cold feet. “Clino-pedalis, ad venerem invalidus, ab ea antiqua opinione, frigiditatem pedum concubituris admondum officere.” Hence St. Francis and the bare-footed Friars. See Glossarium Eroticum Linguae Latinæ, Parisiis, Dondey–Dupré, MDCCCXXVI.
3 I have noted the use of “island” for “land” in general. So in the European languages of the sixteenth century, insula was used for peninsula, e.g. Insula de Cori = the Corean peninsula.
4 As has been noticed (vol. i. 333), the monocular is famed for mischief and men expect the mischief to come from his blinded eye.
5 Here again we have a specimen of “inverted speech” (vol. ii. 265); abusive epithets intended for a high compliment, signifying that the man was a tyrant over rebels and a froward devil to the foe.
6 Arab. “Bab al-Bahr,” see vol. iii. 281.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir of the Frankish King put out to sea in the ship bearing Miriam the Girdle-girl, she gazed Alexandria-wards till the city was hidden from her sight when she wailed and wept copious tears and recited these couplets,
“O dwelling of my friends say is there no return
Uswards? But what ken I of matters Allah made?
Still fare the ships of Severance, sailing hastily
And in my wounded eyelids tear have ta’en their stead,
For parting from a friend who was my wish and will
Healed every ill and every pain and pang allay’d.
Be thou, O Allah, substitute of me for him
Such charge some day the care of Thee shall not evade.”
Then she could not refrain from weeping and wailing. So the patrician1 knights came up to her and would have comforted her, but she heeded not their consoling words, being distracted by the claims of passion and love-longing. And she shed tears and moaned and complained and recited these couplets,
“The tongue of Love within my vitals speaketh
Saying, ‘This lover boon of Love aye seeketh!’
And burn my liver hottest coals of passion
And parting on my heart sore suffering wreaketh.
How shall I face this fiery love concealing
When fro’ my wounded lids the tear aye leaketh?
In this plight Miriam abode during all the voyage; no peace was left her at all nor would patience come at her call. Such was her case in company with the Wazir, the monocular, the lameter; but as regards Nur al-Din the Cairene, when the ship had sailed with Miriam, the world was straitened upon him and he had neither peace nor patience. He returned to the lodging where they twain had dwelt, and its aspect was black and gloomy in his sight. Then he saw the métier wherewith she had been wont to make the zones and her dress that had been upon her beauteous body; so he pressed them to his breast, whilst the tears gushed from his eyes and he recited these couplets,
“Say me, will Union after parting e’er return to be
After long-lasting torments, after hopeless misery?
Alas! Alas! what wont to be shall never more return
But grant me still return of dearest her these eyne may see.
I wonder me will Allah deign our parted lives unite
And will my dear one’s plighted troth preserve with constancy!
Naught am I save the prey of death since parting parted us;
And will my friends consent that I am a wierd so deadly dree?
Alas my sorrow! Sorrowing the lover scant avails;
Indeed I melt away in grief and passion’s ecstasy:
Past is the time of my delight when were we two conjoined:
Would Heaven I wot if Destiny mine esperance will degree!
Redouble then, O Heart, thy pains and, O mine eyes, o’erflow
With tears till not a tear remain within these eyne of me?
Again alas for loved ones lost and loss of patience eke!
For helpers fail me and my griefs are grown beyond decree.
The Lord of Threefold Worlds I pray He deign to me return
My lover and we meet as wont in joy and jubilee.”
Then Nur al-Din wept with weeping galore than which naught could be more; and peering into ever corner of the room, recited these two couplets,
“I view their traces and with pain I pine
And by their sometime home I weep and yearn;
And Him I pray who parting deigned decree
Some day He deign vouchsafe me their return!”
Then Nur al-Din sprang to his feet and locking the door of the house, fared forth running at speed, to the sea shore whence he fixed his eyes on the place of the ship which had carried off his Miriam whilst sighs burst from his breast and tears from his lids as he recited these couplets,
“Peace be with you, sans you naught compensateth me
The near, the far, two cases only here I see:
I yearn for you at every hour and tide as yearns
For water-place wayfarer plodding wearily.
With you abide my hearing, heart and eyen-sight
And (sweeter than the honeycomb) your memory.
Then, O my Grief when fared afar your retinue
And bore that ship away my sole expectancy.”
And Nur al-Din wept and wailed, bemoaned himself and complained, crying out and saying, “O Miriam! O Miriam! Was it but a vision of thee I saw in sleep or in the allusions of dreams?” And by reason of that which grew on him of regrets, he recited these couplets,2
“Mazed with thy love no more I can feign patience, This heart of mine has held none dear but thee! And if mine eye hath gazed on other’s beauty, Ne’er be it joyed again with sight of thee! I’ve sworn an oath I’ll ne’er forget to love thee, And sad’s this breast that pines to meet with thee! Thou’st made me drink a love-cup full of passion, Blest time! When I may give the draught to thee! Take with thee this my form where’er thou goest, And when thou ‘rt dead let me be laid near thee! Call on me in my tomb, my bones shall answer And sigh responses to a call from thee! If it were asked, ‘What wouldst thou Heaven should order?’ ‘His will,’ I answer, ‘First, and then what pleases thee.’”
As Nur al-Din was in this case, weeping and crying out, “O Miriam! O Miriam!” behold, an old man landed from a vessel and coming up to him, saw him shedding tears and heard him reciting these verses,
“O Maryam of beauty3 return, for these eyne
Are as densest clouds railing drops in line:
Ask amid mankind and my railers shall say
That mine eyelids are drowning these eyeballs of mine.”
Said the old man, “O my son, meseems thou weepest for the damsel who sailed yesterday with the Frank?” When Nur al-Din heard these words of the Shaykh he fell down in a swoon and lay for a long while without life; then, coming to himself, he wept with sore weeping and improvised these couplets,
“Shall we e’er be unite after severance-tide
And return in the perfectest cheer to bide?
In my heart indeed is a lowe of love
And I’m pained by the spies who my pain deride:
My days I pass in amaze distraught,
And her image a-nights I would see by side:
By Allah, no hour brings me solace of love
And how can it when makebates vex me and chide?
A soft-sided damsel of slenderest waist
Her arrows of eyne on my heart hath plied?
Her form is like Bán4-tree branch in garth
Shame her charms the sun who his face most hide:
Did I not fear God (be He glorified!)
‘My Fair be glorified!’
Had I cried.”
The old man looked at him and noting his beauty and grace and symmetry and the fluency of his tongue and the seductiveness of his charms, had ruth on him and his heart mourned for his case. Now that Shaykh was the captain of a ship, bound to the damsel’s city, and in this ship were a hundred Moslem merchants, men of the Saving Faith; so he said to Nur al-Din, “Have patience and all will yet be well; I will bring thee to her an it be the will of Allah, extolled and exalted be He!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Batárikah” see vol. ii. 89. The Templars, Knights of Malta and other orders half ecclesiastic, half military suggested the application of the term.
2 These lines have occurred in vol. i. 280 — I quote Torrens (p. 283).
3 Maryam al-Husn containing a double entendre, “O place of the white doe (Rím) of beauty!” The girl’s name was Maryam the Arab. form of Mary, also applied to the B.V. by Eastern Christians. Hence a common name of Syrian women is “Husn Maryam” = (one endowed with the spiritual beauties of Mary: vol. iv. 87). I do not think that the name was “manufactured by the Arab story-tellers after the pattern of their own names (e.g. Nur al-Din or Noureddin, light of the faith, Tajeddin, crown of faith, etc.) for the use of their imaginary Christian female characters.”
4 I may here remind readers that the Bán, which some Orientalists will write “Ben,” is a straight and graceful species of Moringa with plentiful and intensely green foliage.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old skipper said to Nur al-Din, “I will bring thee to her, Inshallah!” the youth asked, “When shall we set out?” and the other said, “Come but three days more and we will depart in peace and prosperity.” Nur al-Din rejoiced at the captain’s words with joy exceeding and thanked him for his bounty and benevolence. Then he recalled the days of love-liesse dear and union with his slave-girl without peer, and he shed bitter tears and recited these couplets,
“Say, will to me and you the Ruthful union show
My lords! Shall e’er I win the wish of me or no?
A visit-boon by you will shifty Time vouchsafe?
And seize your image eye-lids which so hungry grow?
With you were Union to be sold, I fain would buy;
But ah, I see such grace doth all my means outgo!”
Then Nur al-Din went forthright to the market and bought what he needed of viaticum and other necessaries for the voyage and returned to the Rais, who said to him, “O my son, what is that thou hast with thee?” said he, “My provisions and all whereof I have need for the voyage.” Thereupon quoth the old man, laughing, “O my son, art thou going a-pleasuring to Pompey’s Pillar?1 Verily, between thee and that thou seekest is two months’ journey and the wind be fair and the weather favourable.” Then he took of him somewhat of money and going to the bazar, bought him a sufficiency of all that he needed for the voyage and filled him a large earthen jar2 with fresh water. Nur al-Din abode in the ship three days until the merchants had made an end of their precautions and preparations and embarked, when they set sail and putting out to sea, fared on one-and-fifty days. After this, there came out upon them corsairs,3 pirates who sacked the ship and taking Nur al-Din and all therein prisoners, carried them to the city of France and paraded them before the King, who bade cast them into jail, Nur al-Din amongst the number. As they were being led to prison the galleon4 arrived with the Princess Miriam and the one-eyed Wazir, and when it made the harbour, the lameter landed and going up to the King gave him the glad news of his daughter’s safe return: whereupon they beat the kettledrums for good tidings and decorated the city after the goodliest fashion. Then the King took horse, with all his guards and lords and notables and rode down to the sea to meet her. The moment the ship cast anchor she came ashore, and the King saluted her and embraced her and mounting her on a bloodsteed, bore her to the palace, where her mother received her with open arms, and asked her of her case and whether she was a maid as before or whether she had become a woman carnally known by man.5 She replied, “O my mother, how should a girl, who hath been sold from merchant to merchant in the land of Moslems, a slave commanded, abide a virgin? The merchant who bought me threatened me with the bastinado and violenced me and took my maidenhead, after which he sold me to another and he again to a third.” When the Queen heard these her words, the light in her eyes became night and she repeated her confession to the King who was chagrined thereat and his affair was grievous to him. So he expounded her case to his Grandees and Patricians6 who said to him, “O King, she hath been defiled by the Moslems and naught will purify her save the striking off of an hundred Mohammedan heads.” Whereupon the King sent for the True Believers he had imprisoned; and they decapitated them, one after another, beginning with the captain, till none was left save Nur al-Din. They tare off a strip of his skirt and binding his eyes therewith, led him to the rug of blood and were about to smite his neck, when behold, an ancient dame came up to the King at that very moment and said, “O my lord, thou didst vow to bestow upon each and every church five Moslem captives, to held us in the service thereof, so Allah would restore thee thy daughter the Princess Miriam; and now she is restored to thee, so do thou fulfil thy vow.” The King replied, “O my mother, by the virtue of the Messiah and the Veritable Faith, there remaineth to me of the prisoners but this one captive, whom they are about to put to death: so take him with thee to help in the service of the church, till there come to me more prisoners of the Moslems, when I will send thee other four. Hadst thou come earlier, before they hewed off the heads of these, I had given thee as many as thou wouldest have.” The old woman thanked the King for his boon and wished him continuance of life, glory and prosperity. Then without loss of time she went up to Nur al-Din, whom she raised from the rug of blood; and, looking narrowly at him saw a comely youth and a dainty, with a delicate skin and a face like the moon at her full; whereupon she carried him to the church and said to him, “O my son, doff these clothes which are upon thee, for they are fit only for the service of the Sultan.”7 So saying the ancient dame brought him a gown and hood of black wool and a broad girdle,8 in which she clad and cowled him; and, after binding on his belt, bade him do the service of the church. Accordingly, he served the church seven days, at the end of which time behold, the old woman came up to him and said, “O Moslem, don thy silken dress and take these ten dirhams and go out forthright and divert thyself abroad this day, and tarry not here a single moment, lest thou lose thy life.” Quoth he, “What is to do, O my mother?”; and quoth she, “Know, O my son, that the King’s daughter, the Princess Miriam the Girdle-girl, hath a mind to visit the church this day, to seek a blessing by pilgrimage and to make oblation thereto, a douceur9 of thank-offering for her deliverance from the land of the Moslems and in fulfilment of the vows she vowed to the Messiah, so he would save her. With her are four hundred damsels, not one of whom but is perfect in beauty and loveliness and all of them are daughters of Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees: they will be here during this very hour and if their eyes fall on thee in this church, they will hew thee in pieces with swords.” Thereupon Nur al-Din took the ten dirhams from the ancient dame, and donning his own dress, went out to the bazar and walked about the city and took his pleasure therein, till he knew its highways and gates — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Amúd al-Sawári” = the Pillar of Masts, which is still the local name of Diocletian’s column absurdly named by Europeans “Pompey’s Pillar.”
2 Arab. “Batiyah,” also used as a wine-jar (amphora), a flagon.
3 Arab. “Al–Kursán,” evidently from the Ital. “Corsaro,” a runner. So the Port. “Cabo Corso,” which we have corrupted to “Cape Coast Castle” (Gulf of Guinea), means the Cape of Tacking.
4 Arab. “Ghuráb,” which Europeans turn to “Grab.”
5 Arab. “Sayyib” (Thayyib) a rare word: it mostly applies to a woman who leaves her husband after lying once with him.
6 Arab. “Batárikah:” here meaning knights, leaders of armed men as in Night dccclxii., supra p. 256, it means “monks.”
7 i.e. for the service of a temporal monarch.
8 Arab. “Sayr” = a broad strip of leather still used by way of girdle amongst certain Christian religions in the East.
9 Arab. “Haláwat al-Salámah,” the sweetmeats offered to friends after returning from a journey or escaping sore peril. See vol. iv. 60.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din, after donning his own dress and taking the ten dirhams from the ancient dame, fared forth to the market streets and wandered about a while till he knew every quarter of the city, after which he returned to the church1 and saw the Princess Miriam the Girdle-girl, daughter of the King of France come up to the fane, attended by four hundred damsels, high-bosomed maids like moons, amongst whom was the daughter of the one-eyed Wazir and those of the Emirs and Lords of the realm; and she walked in their midst as she were moon among stars. When his eyes fell upon her Nur al-Din could not contain himself, but cried out from the core of his heart, “O Miriam! O Miriam!” When the damsels heard his outcry they ran at him with swords shining bright like flashes of leven-light and would have slain him forthright. But the Princess turned and looking on him, knew him with fullest knowledge, and said to her maidens, “Leave this youth; doubtless he is mad, for the signs of madness be manifest on his face.” When Nur al-Din heard this, he uncovered his head and rolled his eyes and made signs with his hands and twisted his legs, foaming the while at the mouth. Quoth the Princess, “Said I not that the poor youth was mad? Bring him to me and stand off from him, that I may hear what he saith; for I know the speech of the Arabs and will look into his case and see if his madness admit of cure or not.” So they laid hold of him and brought him to her; after which they withdrew to a distance and she said to him, “Hast thou come hither on my account and ventured thy life for my sake and feignest thyself mad?” He replied, “O my lady, hast thou not heard the saying of the poet?,2
‘Quoth they, ‘Thou’rt surely raving mad for her thou lov’st;’ and I,
‘There is no pleasantness in life but for the mad,’ reply.
Compare my madness with herself for whom I rave; if she
Accord therewith, then blame me not for that which I aby.’”
Miriam replied, “By Allah, O Nur al-Din, indeed thou hast sinned against thyself, for I warned thee of this before it befell thee: yet wouldst thou not hearken to me, but followest thine own lust: albeit that whereof I gave thee to know I learnt not by means of inspiration nor physiognomy3 nor dreams, but by eye-witness and very sight; for I saw the one-eyed Wazir and knew that he was not come to Alexandria but in quest of me.” Said he, “O my lady Miriam, we seek refuge with Allah from the error of the intelligent!”4 Then his affliction redoubled on him and he recited this saying,5
“Pass o’er my fault, for ’tis the wise man’s wont Of other’s sins to take no harsh account; And as all crimes have made my breast their site, So thine all shapes of mercy should unite. Who from above would mercy seek to know, Should first be merciful to those below.”
Then Nur al-Din and Princess Miriam ceased not from lovers’ chiding which to trace would be tedious, relating each to other that which had befallen them and reciting verses and making moan, one to other, of the violence of passion and the pangs of pine and desire, whilst the tears ran down their cheeks like rivers, till there was left them no strength to say a word and so they continued till day deprated and night darkened. Now the Princess was clad in a green dress, purfled with red gold and broidered with pearls and gems which enhanced her beauty and loveliness and inner grace; and right well quoth the poet of her,6
“Like the full moon she shineth in garments all of green,
With loosened vest and collars and flowing hair beseen.
‘What is thy name?’ I asked her, and she replied, ‘I’m she
Who roasts the hearts of lovers on coals of love and teen.
I am the pure white silver, ay, and the gold wherewith
The bondsmen from strait prison and dour releasèd been.’
Quoth I, ‘I’m all with rigours consumed;’ but ‘On a rock,’
Said she, ‘such as my heart is, thy plaints are wasted clean.’
‘Even if thy heart,’ I answered, ‘be rock in very deed,
Yet hath God caused fair water well from the rock, I ween.’”
And when night darkened on them the Lady Miriam went up to her women and asked them, “Have ye locked the door?”; and they answered, “Indeed we have locked it.” So she took them and went with them to a place called the hapel of the Lady Mary the Virgin, Mother of Light, because the Nazarenes hold that there are her heart and soul. The girls betook themselves to prayer for blessings from above and circuited all the church; and when they had made an end of their visitation, the Princess turned to them and said, “I desire to pass the night alone in the Virgin’s chapel and seek a blessing thereof, for that yearning after it hath betided me, by reason of my long absence in the land of the Moslems; and as for you, when ye have made an end of your visitation, do ye sleep whereso ye will.” Replied they, “With love and goodly gree: be it as thou wilt!”; and leaving her alone in the chapel, dispersed about the church and slept. The Lady Miriam waited till they were out of sight and hearing, then went in search of Nur al-Din, whom she found sitting in a corner on live coals, awaiting her. He rose and kissed her hands and feet and she sat down and seated him by her side. Then she pulled off all that was upon her of raiment and ornaments and fine linen and taking Nur al-Din in her arms strained him to her bosom. And they ceased not, she and he, from kissing and clipping and strumming to the tune of “hocus-pocus,”7 saying the while, “How short are the nights of Union and the nights of Disunion how long are they!” and reciting these verses,
“O Night of Union, Time’s virginal prized,
White star of the Nights with auroral dyes,
Thou garrest Dawn after Noon to rise
Say art thou Kohl in Morning’s Eyes,
Or wast thou Slumber to bleared eye lief?
O Night of Parting, how long thy stay
Whose latest hours aye the first portray,
This endless circle that noways may
Show breach till the coming of Judgment-day,
Day when dies the lover of parting-grief.”8
As they were in this mighty delight and joy engrossing they heard one of the servants of the Saint9 smite the gong10 upon the roof, to call the folk to the rites of their worship, and he was even as saith the poet,
“I saw him strike the gong and asked of him straightway,
Who made the Fawn11 at striking going so knowing, eh?’
And to my soul, ‘What smiting irketh thee the more —
Striking the gong or striking note of going,12 say?’”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 So Eginhardt was an Erzcapellan and belonged to the ghostly profession.
2 These lines are in vols. iii. 258 and iv. 204. I quote Mr. Payne.
3 Arab. “Firásah,” lit. = skill in judging of horse flesh (Faras) and thence applied, like “Kiyáfah,” to physiognomy. One Kári was the first to divine man’s future by worldly signs (Al–Maydáni, Arab. prov. ii. 132) and the knowledge was hereditary in the tribe Mashíj.
4 Reported to be a “Hadis” or saying of Mohammed, to whom are attributed many such shrewd aphorisms, e.g. “Allah defend us from the ire of the mild (tempered).”
5 These lines are in vol. i. 126. I quote Torrens (p. 120).
6 These lines have occurred before. I quote Mr. Payne.
7 Arab. “Khák-bák,” an onomatopœia like our flip-flap and a host of similar words. This profaning a Christian Church which contained the relics of the Virgin would hugely delight the coffee-house habitués, and the Egyptians would be equally flattered to hear that the son of a Cairene merchant had made the conquest of a Frankish Princess Royal. That he was an arrant poltroon mattered very little, as his cowardice only set of his charms.
8 i.e. after the rising up of the dead.
9 Arab. “Nafísah,” the precious one i.e. the Virgin.
10 Arab. “Nákús,” a wooden gong used by Eastern Christians which were wisely forbidden by the early Moslems.
11 i.e. a graceful, slender youth.
12 There is a complicatd pun in this line: made by splitting the word after the fashion of punsters. “Zarbu ‘l-Nawákísí” = the striking of the gongs, and “Zarbu ‘l Nawá, Kísí = striking the departure signal: decide thou (fem. addressed to the Nafs, soul or self)” I have attempted a feeble imitation.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din and Miriam the Girdle-girl rose forthwith and donned her clothes and ornaments; but this was grievous to Nur al-Din, and his gladness was troubled; the tears streamed from his eyes and he recited these couplets,
“I ceasèd not to kiss that cheek with budding roses dight
And eyes down cast and bit the same with most emphatic bite;
Until we were in gloria1 and lay him down the spy
And sank his eyes within his brain declining further sight:
And struck the gongs as they that had the charge of them were like
Muezzin crying duty-prayers in Allah’s book indite.
Then rose she up right hastily and donned the dress she’d doffed
Sore fearing lest a shooting-star2 upon our heads alight.
And cried, ‘O wish and will of me, O end of all my hopes!
Behold the morning comes to us in brightest whitest light.’
I swear if but one day of rule were given to my life
And I were made an Emperor of majesty and might,
Adown I’d break the buttresses of churches one and all
And by their slaughter rid the earth of every shaveling wight.”
Then the Lady Miriam pressed him to her bosom and kissed his cheek and asked him, “O Nur al-Din, how long hast thou been in this town?” “Seven days.” “Hast thou walked about in it, and dost thou know its ways and issues and its sea-gates and land gates?” “Yes!” “Knowest thou the way to the offertory-chest3 of the church?” “Yes!” “Since thou knowest all this, as soon as the first third4 of the coming night is over, go to the offertory-chest and take thence what thou wishest and willest. Then open the door that giveth upon the tunnel5 leading to the sea, and go down to the harbour, where thou wilt find a little ship and ten men therein, and when the Rais shall see thee, he will put out his hand to thee. Give him thy hand and he will take thee up into the ship, and do thou wait there till I come to thee. But ‘ware and have a care lest sleep overtake thee this night, or thou wilt repent whenas repentance shall avail thee naught.” Then the Princess farewelled him and going forth from Nur al-Din, aroused from sleep her women and the rest of the damsels, with whom she betook herself to the church door and knocked; whereupon the ancient dame opened to her and she went forth and found the knights and varlets standing without. They brought her a dapple she-mule and she mounted: whereupon they raised over her head a canopy6 with curtains of silk, and the knights took hold of the mule’s halter. Then the guards7 encompassed her about, drawn brand in hand, and fared on with her, followed by her, till they brought her to the palace of the King her father. Meanwhile, Nur al-Din abode concealed behind the curtain, under cover of which Miriam and he had passed the night, till it was broad day, when the main door was opened and the church became full of people. Then he mingled with the folk and accosted the old Prioress, the guardian8 of the shrine, who said to him, “Where didst thou lie last night?” Said he, “In the town as thou badest me.” Quoth she, “O my son, thou hast done the right thing; for, hadst thou nighted in the Church, she had slain thee on the foulest wise.” And quoth he, “Praised be Allah who hath delivered me from the evil of this night!” Then he busied himself with the service of the church and ceased not busying till day departed and night with darkness starkened when he arose and opened the offertory-chest and took thence of jewels whatso was light of weight and weighty of worth. Then he tarried till the first watch of the night was past, when he made his way to the postern of the tunnel and opening it, went forth, calling on Allah for protection, and ceased not faring on until, after finding and opening the door, he came to the sea. Here he discovered the vessel moored to the shore near the gate; and her skipper, a tall old man of comely aspect with a long beard, standing in the waist, his ten men being ranged before him. Nur al-Din gave him his hand, as Miriam had bidden him, and the captain took it and pulling him on board of the ship cried out to his crew, saying, “Cast off the moorings and put out to sea with us, ere day break.” Said one of the ten, “O my lord the Captain, how shall we put out now, when the King hath notified us that to-morrow he will embark in this ship and go round about the sea, being fearful for his daughter Miriam from the Moslem thieves?” But the Rais cried out at them saying, “Woe to you, O accursed; Dare ye gainsay me and bandy words with me?” So saying the old captain bared his blade and with it dealt the sailor who had spoken a thrust in the throat, that the steel came out gleaming from his nape; and quoth another of the sailors, “What hath our comrade done of crime, that thou shouldst cut his throat?” Thereupon the captain clapped hand to sword and smote the speaker’s head, nor did he leave smiting the rest of the sailors till he had slain them all, one after other, and cast the ten bodies ashore. Then he turned to Nur al-Din and cried out at him with a terrible great cry, that made him tremble, saying, “Go down and pull up the mooring-satke.” Nur al-Din feared lest he should strike him also with the sword; so he sprang up and leapt ashore and pulling up the stake jumped aboard again, swiftlier than the dazzling leven. The captain ceased not to bid him do this and do that and tack and wear hither and thither and look at the stars, and Nur al-Din did all that he bade him, with heart a-quaking for affright; whilst he himself spread the sails, and the ship fared with the twain into the dashing sea, swollen with clashing billows. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The modern Italian term of the venereal finish.
2 Arab. “Najm al-Munkazzi,” making the envious spy one of the prying Jinns at whom is launched the Shiháb or shooting-star by the angels who prevent them listening at the gates of Heaven. See vol. i. 224.
3 Arab. “Sandúk al-Nuzur,” lit. “the box of vowed oblations.” This act of sacrilege would find high favour with the auditory.
4 The night consisting like the day of three watches. See vol. i.
5 Arab. “Al–Khaukhah,” a word now little used.
6 Arab. “Námúsiyah,” lit. mosquito curtains.
7 Arab. “Jáwawshiyah,” see vol. ii. 49.
8 Arab. “Kayyimah,” the fem. of “Kayyim,” misprinted “Kayim” in vol. ii. 93.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old skipper had made sail he drave the ship, aided by Nur al-Din, into the dashing sea before a favouring gale. Meanwhile, Nur al-Din held on to the tackle immersed in deep thought, and drowned in the sea of solicitude, knowing not what was hidden for him in the future; and whenever he looked at the captain, his heart quaked and he knew not whither the Rais went with him. He abode thus, preoccupied with care and doubt, till it was high day, when he looked at the skipper and saw him take hold of his long beard and pull at it, whereupon it came off in his hand and Nur al-Din, examining it, saw that it was but a false beard glued on. So he straitly considered that same Rais, and behold, it was the Princess Miriam, his mistress and the dearling of his heart, who had contrived to waylay the captain and slay him and skinned off his beard, which she had stuck on to her own face. At this Nur al-Din was transported for you, and his breast broadened and he marvelled at her prowess and the stoutness of her heart and said to her, “Welcome, O my hope and my desire and the end of mine every wish!” Then love and gladness agitated him and he made sure of winning to his hopes and his expectancy; wherefore he broke out into song and chanted these couplets,
“To all who unknown my love for the May
From whom Fate disjoins me O say, I pray,
‘Ask my kith and kin of my love that aye
Ensweetens my verses to lovely lay:
For the loss of the tribesmen my life o’er sway!’
Their names when named heal all malady;
Cure and chase from heart every pain I dree:
And my longings for love reach so high degree
That my Sprite is maddened each morn I see,
And am grown of the crowd to be saw and say.
No blame in them will I e’er espy:
No! nor aught of solace sans them descry:
Your love hath shot me with pine, and I
Bear in heart a flame that shall never die,
But fire my liver with fiery ray.
All folk my sickness for marvel score
That in darkest night I wake evermore
What ails them to torture this heart forlore
And deem right for loving my blood t’ outpour:
And yet — how justly unjust are they!
Would I wot who ’twas could obtain of you
To wrong a youth who’s so fain of you:
By my life and by Him who made men of you
And the spy tell aught I complain of you
He lies, by Allah, in foulest way!
May the Lord my sickness never dispel,
Nor ever my heart of its pains be well,
What day I regret that in love I fell
Or laud any land but wherein ye dwell:
Wring my heart and ye will or make glad and gay!
I have vitals shall ever be true to you
Though racked by the rigours not new to you
Ere this wrong and this right I but sue to you:
Do what you will to thrall who to you
Shall ne’er grudge his life at your feet to lay.”
When Nur al-Din ceased to sing, the Princess Miriam marvelled at his song and thanked him therefor, saying, “Whoso’s case is thus it behoveth him to walk the ways of men and never do the deed of curs and cowards.” Now she was stout of heart and cunning in the sailing of ships over the salt sea, and she knew all the winds and their shiftings and every course of the main. So Nur al-Din said, “O my lady, hadst thou prolonged this case on me,1 I had surely died for stress of affright and chagrin, more by token of the fire of passion and love-longing and the cruel pangs of separation.” She laughed at his speech and rising without stay or delay brought out somewhat of food and liquor; and they ate and drank and enjoyed themselves and made merry. Then she drew forth rubies and other gems and precious stones and costly trinkets of gold and silver and all manner things of price, light of weight and weighty of worth, which she had taken from the palace of her sire and his treasuries, and displayed them to Nur al-Din, who rejoiced therein with joy exceeding. All this while the wind blew fair for them and merrily sailed the ship nor ceased sailing till they drew near the city of Alexandria and sighted its landmarks, old and new, and Pompey’s Pillar. When they made the port, Nur al-Din landed forthright and securing the ship to one of the Fulling–Stones,2 took somewhat of the treasures that Miriam had brought with her, and said to her, “O my lady, tarry in the ship, against I return and carry thee up into the city in such way as I should wish and will.” Quoth she, “It behoveth that this be done quickly, for tardiness in affairs engendereth repentance.” Quoth he, “There is no tardiness in me;” and, leaving her in the ship, went up into the city to the house of the druggist his father’s old fried, to borrow of his wife for Miriam veil and mantilla, and walking boots and petticoat-trousers after the usage of the women of Alexandria, unknowing that there was appointed to betide him of the shifts of Time, the Father of Wonders, that which was far beyond his reckoning. Thus it befel Nur al-Din and Miriam the Girdle-girl; but as regards her sire the King of France, when he arose in the morning, he missed his daughter and questioned her women and her eunuchs of her. Answered they, “O our lord, she went out last night, to go to Church and after that we have no tidings of her.” But, as the King talked with them, behold, there arose so great a clamour of cries below the palace, that the place rang thereto, and he said, “What may be the news?” The folk replied, “O King, we have found ten men slain on the sea-shore, and the royal yacht is missing. Moreover we saw the postern of the Church, which giveth upon the tunnel leading to the sea, wide open; and the Moslem prisoner, who served in the Church, is missing.” Quoth the King, “An my ship be lost, without doubt or dispute.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. hadst thou not disclosed thyself. He has one great merit in a coward of not being ashamed for his cowardice; and this is a characteristic of the modern Egyptian, whose proverb is, “He ran away, Allah shame him! is better than, He was slain, Allah bless him!”
2 Arab. “Ahjar al-Kassárín” nor forgotten. In those days ships anchored in the Eastern port of Alexandria which is now wholly abandoned on account of the rocky bottom and the dangerous “Levanter,” which as the Gibraltar proverb says
“Makes the stones canter.”
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King of France missed his daughter they brought him tidings of her, saying, “Thy yacht is lost”; and he replied, “An the craft be lost, without dispute or doubt my daughter is in it.” So he summoned without stay or delay the Captain of the Port and cried out at him, saying, “By the virtue1 of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, except thou and thy fighting men overtake my ship forthright and bring it back to me, with those who are therein, I will do thee die the foulest of deaths and make a terrible example of thee!” Thereupon the captain went out from before him, trembling, and betook himself to the ancient dame of the Church, to whom said he, ‘Heardest thou aught from the captive, that was with thee, anent his native land and what countryman he was?” And she answered, “He used to say, I come from the town of Alexandria.” When the captain heard the old woman’s words he returned forthright to the port and cried out to the sailors, “Make ready and set sail.” So they did his bidding and straightway putting out to sea, fared night and day till they sighted the city of Alexandria at the very time when Nur al-Din landed, leaving the Princess in the ship. They soon espied the royal yacht and knew her; so they moored their own vessel at a distance therefrom and putting off in a little frigate they had with them, which drew but two cubits of water and in which were an hundred fighting-men, amongst them the one-eyed Wazir (for that he was a stubborn tyrant and a froward devil and a wily thief, none could avail against his craft, as he were Abu Mohammed al-Battál2), they ceased not rowing till they reached the bark and boarding her, all at once, found none therein save the Princess Miriam. So they took her and the ship, and returning to their own vessel, after they had landed and waited a long while,3 set sail forthright for the land of the Franks, having accomplished their errand, without a fight or even drawing sword. The wind blew fair for them and they sailed on, without ceasing and with all diligence, till they reached the city of France and landing with the Princess Miriam carried her to her father, who received her, seated on the throne of his Kingship. As soon as he saw her, he said to her, “Woe to thee, O traitress! What ailed thee to leave the faith of thy fathers and forefathers and the safeguard of the Messiah, on whom is our reliance, and follow after the faith of the Vagrants,4 to wit, the faith of Al–Islam, the which arose with the sword against the Cross and the Images?” Replied Miriam, “I am not at fault, I went out by night to the church, to visit the Lady Mary and seek a blessing of her, when there fell upon me unawares a band of Moslem robbers, who gagged me and bound me fast and carrying me on board the barque, set sail with me for their own country. However, I beguiled them and talked with them of their religion, till they loosed my bonds; and ere I knew it thy men overtook me and delivered me. And by the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar and the Cross and the Crucified thereon, I rejoiced with joy exceeding in my release from them and my bosom broadened and I was glad for my deliverance from the bondage of the Moslems!” Rejoined the King, “Thou liest, O whore! O adultress! By the virtue of that which is revealed of prohibition and permission in the manifest Evangel,5 I will assuredly do thee die by the foulest of deaths and make thee the vilest of examples! Did it not suffice thee to do as thou didst the first time and put off thy lies upon us, but thou must return upon us with thy deceitful inventions?” Thereupon the King bade kill her and crucify her over the palace gate; but, at that moment the one-eyed Wazir, who had long been enamoured of the Princess, came in to him and said, “Ho King! saly her not, but give her to me to wife, and I will watch over her with the utmost warding, nor will I go in unto her, till I have built her a palace of solid stone, exceeding high of foundation, so no thieves may avail to climb up to its terrace-roof; and when I have made an end of building it, I will sacrifice thirty Moslems before the gate thereof, as an expiatory offering to the Messiah for myself and for her.” The King granted his request and bade the priests and monks and patriarchs marry the Princess to him; so they did his bidding, whereupon he bade set about building a strong and lofty palace, befitting her rank and the workmen fell to work upon it. On this wise it betided the Princess Miriam and her sire and the one-eyed Wazir; but as regards Nur al-Din, when he came back with the petticoat-trousers and mantilla and walking boots and all the attire of Alexandrian women which he had borrowed of the druggist’s wife, he “found the air void and the fane afar6”; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Hakk” = rights, a word much and variously used. To express the possessive “mine” a Badawi says “Hakki” (pron. Haggi) and “Lílí;” a Syrian “Shítí” for Shayyati, my little thing or “taba ‘i” my dependent; an Egyptian “Bitá’ i” my portion and a Maghribi “M’tá ‘i” and “diyyáli” (di allazí lí = this that is to me). Thus “mine” becomes a shibboleth.
2 i.e. The “Good for nothing,” the “Bad’un;” not some forgotten ruffian of the day, but the hero of a tale antedating The Nights in their present form. See Terminal Essay, x. ii.
3 i.e. Hoping to catch Nur al-Din.
4 Arab. “Sawwáhún” = the Wanderers, Pilgrims, wandering Arabs, whose religion, Al–Islam, so styled by its Christain opponents. And yet the new creed was at once accepted by whole regions of Christians, and Mauritania, which had rejected Roman paganism and Gothic Christianity. This was e.g. Syria and the so-called “Holy Land,” not because, as is fondly asserted by Christians, al-Islam was forced upon them by the sword, but on account of its fulfilling a need, its supplying a higher belief, unity as opposed to plurality, and its preaching a more manly attitude of mind and a more sensible rule of conduct. Arabic still preserves a host of words special to the Christian creed; and many of them have been adopted by Moslems but with changes of signification.
5 i.e. of things commanded and things prohibited. The writer is thinking of the Koran in which there are not a few abrogated injunctions.
6 See below for the allusion.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur al-Din, “found the aire void1 and the fane afar,” his heart sank within him and he wept floods of tears and recited these verses,2
“The phantom of Soada came by nigh to wake me towards morning while my companions were sleeping in the desert:
But when we awoke to behold the nightly phantom, I saw the air vacant, and the place of visitation distant.”
Then Nur al-Din walked on along the sea-shore and turned right and left, till he saw folk gathered together on the beach and heard them say, “O Moslems, there remaineth no honour to Alexandria-city, since the Franks enter it and snatch away those who are therein and return to their own land, at their leisure3 nor pursued of any of the Moslems or fighters for the Faith!” Quoth Nur al-Din to them, “What is to do?”; and quoth they, “O my son, one of the ships of the Franks, full of armed men, came down but now upon the port and carried off a ship which was moored here, with her that was therein, and made unmolested for their own land.” Nur al-Din fell down a-swoon, on hearing these words; and when he recovered they questioned him of his case and he told them all that had befallen him first and last; whereupon they all took to reviling him and railing at him, saying, “Why couldst thou not bring her up into the town without mantilla and muffler?” And all and each of the folk gave him some grievous word, berating him with sharp speech, and shooting at him some shaft or reproach, albeit one said, “Let him be; that which hath befallen him sufficeth him,” till he again fell down in a fainting-fit. And behold, at this moment, up came the old druggist, who, seeing the folk gathered together, drew near to learn what was the matter and found Nur al-Din lying a-swoon in their midst. So he sat down at his head and arousing him, said to him as soon as he recovered, “O my son, what is this case in which I see thee?” Nur al-Din said, “O uncle, I had brought back in a barque my lost slave-girl from her father’s city, suffering patiently all I suffered of perils and hardships; and when I came with her to this port, I made the vessel fast to the shore and leaving her therein, repaired to thy dwelling and took of thy consort what was needful for her, that I might bring her up into the town; but the Franks came and capturing barque and damsel made off unhindered, and returned to their own land.” Now when the Shaykh, the druggist, heard this, the light in his eyes became night and he grieved with sore grieving for Nur al-Din and said to him, “O my son, why didst thou not bring her out of the ship into the city without mantilla? But speech availeth not at this season; so rise, O my son, and come up with me to the city; haply Allah will vouchsafe thee a girl fairer than she, who shall console thee for her. Alhamdolillah-praised be Allah-who hath not made thee lose aught by her! Nay, thou hast gained by her. And bethink thee, O my son, that Union and Disunion are in the hands of the Most High King..” Replied Nur al-Din, “By Allah, O uncle, I can never be consoled for her loss nor will I ever leave seeking her, though on her account I drink the cup of death!” Rejoined the druggist, “O my son, and what art thou minded to do?” Quoth Nur al-Din, “I am minded to return to the land of the Franks4 and enter the city of France and emperil myself there; come what may, loss of life or gain of life.” Quoth the druggist, “O my son, there is an old saw, ‘Not always doth the crock escape the shock’; and if they did thee no hurt the first time, belike they will slay thee this time, more by token that they know thee now with full knowledge.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “O my uncle, let me set out and be slain for the love of her straightway and not die of despair for her loss by slow torments.” Now as Fate determined there was then a ship in port ready to sail, for its passengers had made an end of their affairs5 and the sailors had pulled up the mooring-stakes, when Nur al-Din embarked in her. So they shook out their canvas and relying on the Compassionate, put out to sea and sailed many days, with fair wind and weather, till behold, they fell in with certain of the Frank cruisers, which were scouring those waters and seizing upon all ships they saw, in their fear for the King’s daughter from the Moslem corsairs: and as often as they made prize of a Moslem ship, they carried all her people to the King of France, who put them to death in fulfilment of the vow he had vowed on account of his daughter Miriam. So, seeing the ship wherein was Nur al-Din they boarded her and taking him and the rest of the company prisoners, to the number of an hundred Moslems, carried them to the King and set them between his hands. He bade cut their throats. Accordingly they slaughtered them all forthwith, one after another, till there was none left but Nur al-Din, whom the headsman had left to the last, in pity of his tender age and slender shape. When the King saw him, he knew him right well and said to him, “Art thou not Nur al-Din, who was with us before?” Said he, “I was never with thee: and my name is not Nur al-Din, but Ibrahim.” Rejoined the King; “Thou liest, thou art Nur al-Din, he whom I gave to the ancient dame the Prioress, to help her in the service of the church.” But Nur al-Din replied, “O my lord, my name is Ibrahim.” Quoth the King, “Wait a while,” and bade his knights fetch the old woman forthright, saying, “When she cometh and seeth thee, she will know an thou be Nur al-Din or not.” At this juncture, behold, in came the one-eyed Wazir who had married the Princess and kissing the earth before the King said to him, “Know, O King, that the palace is finished; and thou knowest how I vowed to the Messiah that, when I had made an end of building it, I would cut thirty Moslems’ throats before its doors; wherefore I am come to take them of thee, that I may sacrifice them and so fulfil my vow to the Messiah. They shall be at my charge, by way of loan, and whenas there come prisoners to my hands, I will give thee other thirty in lieu of them.” Replied the King, ‘By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, I have but this one captive left!” And he pointed to Nur al-Din, saying, “Take him and slaughter him at this very moment and the rest I will send thee when there come to my hands other prisoners of the Moslems.” Thereupon the one-eyed Wazir arose and took Nur al-Din and carried him to his palace, thinking to slaughter him on the threshold of the gate; but the painters said to him, “O my lord, we have two days’ painting yet to do: so bear with us and delay to cut the throat of this captive, till we have made an end of our work; haply by that time the rest of the thirty will come, so thou mayst despatch them all at one bout and accomplish thy vow in a single day.” Thereupon the Wazir bade imprison Nur al-Din. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kafrá” = desert place. It occurs in this couplet,
“Wa Kabrun Harbin fíi-makáanin Kafrin;
Wa laysa Kurba Kabri Harbin Kabrun.”
“Harb’s corse is quartered in coarse wold accurst;
Nor close to corse of Harb is other corse; —”
words made purposely harsh because uttered by a Jinni who killed a traveller named “Harb.” So Homer:—
“ ‘, ‘.”
and Pope:—
“O’er hills, o’er dales, o’er crags, o’er rocks they go, etc.”
See Preface (p. v.) to Captain A. Lockett’s learned and whimsical volume, “The Muit Amil” etc. Calcutta, 1814.
2 These lines have occurred vol. iv. 267. I quote Mr. Lane.
3 The topethesia is here designedly made absurd. Alexandria was one of the first cities taken by the Moslems (A.H. 21 = 642) and the Christian pirates preferred attacking weaker places, Rosetta and Damietta.
4 Arab. “Bilád al-Rúm,” here and elsewhere applied to France.
5 Here the last line of p. 324, vol. iv. in the Mac. Edit. is misplaced and belongs to the next page.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir bade imprison Nur al-Din, they carried him to the stables and left him there in chains, hungering and thirsting and making moan for himself; for indeed he saw death face to face. Now it fortuned, by the ordinance of Destiny and fore-ordained Fate, that the King had two stallions, own brothers,1 such as the Chosroe Kings might sigh in vain to possess themselves of one of them; they were called Sábik and Láhik2 and one of them was pure silvern white while the other was black as the darksome night. And all the Kings of the isles had said, “Whoso stealeth us one of these stallions, we will give him all he seeketh of red gold and pearls and gems;” but none could avail to steal them. Now one of them fell sick of a jaundice and there came a whiteness over his eyes;3 whereupon the King gathered together all the farriers in the city to treat him; but they all failed of his cure. Presently the Wazir came into the King; and finding him troubled because of the horse, thought to do away his concern and said to him, “O King, give me the stallion and I will cure him,” The King consented and caused carry the horse to the stable wherein Nur al-Din lay chained; but, when he missed his brother, he cried out with an exceeding great cry and neighed, so that he affrighted all the folk. The Wazir, seeing that he did thus but because he was parted from his brother, went to tell the King, who said, “If this, which is but a beast, cannot brook to be parted from his brother, how should it be with those that have reason?” And he bade his grooms take the other horse and put him with his brother in the Wazir’s stables, saying, “Tell the Minister that the two stallions be a gift from me to him, for the sake of my daughter Miriam.” Nur al-Din was lying in the stable, chained and shackled, when they brought in the two stallions and he saw that one of them had a film over his eyes. Now he had some knowledge of horses and of the doctoring of their diseases; so he said to himself, “This by Allah is my opportunity! I will go to the Wazir and lie to him, saying, ‘I will heal thee this horse’: then will I do with him somewhat that shall destroy his eyes, and he will slay me and I shall be at rest from this woe-full life.” So he waited till the Wazir entered the stable, to look upon the steed, and said to him, “O my lord, what will be my due, an I heal this horse, and make his eyes whole again?” Replied the Wazir, “As my head liveth, an thou cure him, I will spare thy life and give thee leave to crave a boon of me!” And Nur al-Din said, “O my lord, bid my hands be unbound!” So the Wazir bade unbind him and he rose and taking virgin glass,4 brayed it and mixed it with unslaked lime and a menstruum of onion-juice. Then he applied the whole to the horse’s eyes and bound them up, saying in himself, “Now will his eyes be put out and they will slay me and I shall be at rest from this woe-full life.” Then he passed the night with a heart free from the uncertainty5 of cark and care, humbling himself to Allah the Most High and saying, “O Lord, in Thy knowledge is that which dispenseth with asking and craving!” Now when the morning morrowed and the sun shone, the Wazir came to the stable and, loosing the bandage from the horse’s eyes considered them and found them finer than before, by the ordinance of the King who openeth evermore. So he said to Nur al-Din, “O Moslem, never in the world saw I the like of thee for the excellence of thy knowledge. By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, thou makest me with wonder to admire, for all the farriers of our land have failed to heal this horse!” Then he went up to Nur al-Din and, doing off his shackles with his own hand, clad him in a costly dress and made him his master of the Horse; and he appointed him stipends and allowances and lodged him in a story over the stables. So Nur al-Din abode awhile, eating and drinking and making merry and bidding and forbidding those who tended the horses; and whoso neglected or failed to fodder those tied up in the stable wherein was his service, he would thrown down and beat with grievous beating and lay him by the legs in bilboes of iron. Furthermore, he used every day to descend and visit the stallions and rub them down with his own hand, by reason of that which he knew of their value in the Wazir’s eyes and his love for them; wherefore the Minister rejoiced in him with joy exceeding and his breast broadened and he was right glad, unknowing what was to be the issue of his case. Now in the new palace, which the one-eyed Wazir had bought for Princess Miriam, was a lattice-window overlooking his old house and the flat wherein Nur al-Din lodged. The Wazir had a daughter, a virgin of extreme loveliness, as she were a fleeing gazelle or a bending branchlet, and it chanced that she sat one day at the lattice aforesaid and behold, she heard Nur al-Din, singing and solacing himself under his sorrows by improvising these verses,
“O my Censor who wakest a-morn to see
The joys of life and its jubilee!
Had the fangs of Destiny bitten thee
In such bitter case thou hadst pled this plea,
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
But from Fate’s despight thou art safe this day; —
From her falsest fay and her crying ‘Nay!’
Yet blame him not whom his woes waylay
Who distraught shall say in his agony,
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
Excuse such lovers in flight abhorr’d
Nor to Love’s distreses thine aid afford:
Lest thy self be bound by same binding cord
And drink of Love’s bitterest injury.
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
In His service I wont as the days went by
With freest heart through the nights to lie;
Nor tasted wake, nor of Love aught reckt
Ere my heart to subjection summoned he:
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
None weet of Love and his humbling wrong
Save those he sickened so sore, so long,
Who have lost their wits ’mid the lover-throng
Draining bitterest cup by his hard decree:
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
How oft in Night’s gloom he cause wake to rue
Lovers’ eyne, and from eyelids their sleep withdrew;
Till tears to the railing of torrents grew,
Overflowing cheeks, unconfined and free:
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
How many a man he has joyed to steep
In pain, and for pine hath he plundered sleep —
Made don garb of mourning the deepest deep
And even his dreaming forced to flee:
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
How oft sufferance fails me! How bones are wasted
And down my cheeks torrent tear-drops hasted:
And embittered She all the food I tasted
However sweet it was wont to be:
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
Most hapless of men who like me must love,
And must watch when Night droops her wing from above,
Who, swimming the main where affection drove
Must sign and sink in that gloomy sea:
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
Who is he to whom Love e’er stinted spite
And who scaped his springes and easy sleight;
Who free from Love lived in life’s delight?
Where is he can boast of such liberty?
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’
Deign Lord such suffering wight maintain
Then best Protector, protect him deign!
Establish him and his life assain
And defend him from all calamity:
‘Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!’”
And when Nur al-Din ended his say and ceased to sing his rhyming lay, the Wazir’s daughter said to herself, “By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, verily this Moslem is a handsome youth! But doubtless he is a lover separated from his mistress. Would Heaven I wot an the beloved of this fair one is fair like unto him and if she pine for him as he for her! An she be seemly as he is, it behoveth him to pour forth tears and make moan of passion; but, an she be other than fair, his days are wasted in vain regrets and he is denied the taste of delights.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Akhawán shikíkán” = brothers german (of men and beasts) born of one father and mother, sire and dam.
2 “The Forerunner” and “The Overtaker,” terms borrowed from the Arab Epsom.
3 Known to us as “the web and pin,” it is a film which affects Arab horses in the damp hot regions of Malabar and Zanzibar and soon blinds them. This equine cataract combined with loin-disease compels men to ride Pegu and other ponies.
4 Arab. “Zujáj bikr” whose apparent meaning would be glass in the lump and unworked. Zaj áj bears, however, the meaning of clove-nails (the ripe bud of the clove-shrub) and may possibly apply to one of the manifold “Alfáz Adwiyh” (names of drugs). Here, however, pounded glass would be all sufficient to blind a horse: it is much used in the East especially for dogs affected by intestinal vermicules.
5 Alluding to the Arab saying “The two rests” (Al-ráhatáni) “certainty of success or failure,” as opposed to “Wiswás” when the mind fluctuates in doubt.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir’s daughter said to herself, “An his beloved be fair as he, it behoveth him to pour forth tears; and, if other than fair, his heart is wasted in vain regrets!” Now Miriam the Girdle-girl, the Minister’s consort, had removed to the new palace the day before and the Wazir’s daughter knew that she was straitened of breast; so she was minded to seek her and talk with her and tell her the tidings of the young man and the rhymes and verses she had heard him recite; but, before she could carry out her design the Princess sent for her to cheer her with her converse. So she went to her and found her heavy at heart and her tears hurrying down her cheeks; and whilst she was weeping with sore weeping she recited these couplets,
“My life is gone but love-longings remain
And my breast is straitened with pine and pain:
And my heart for parting to melt is fain
Yet hoping that union will come again,
And join us in one who now are twain.
Stint your blame to him who in heart’s your thrall
With the wasted frame which his sorrows gall,
Nor with aim of arrow his heart appal
For parted lover is saddest of all,
And Love’s cup of bitters is sweet to drain!”
Quoth the Wazir’s daughter to her, “What aileth thee, O Princess, to be thus straitened in breast and sorrowful of thought?” Whereupon Miriam recalled the greatness of the delights that were past and recited these two couplets,
“I will bear in patience estrangement of friend
And on cheeks rail tears that like torrents wend:
Haply Allah will solace my sorrow, for He
Neath the ribs of unease maketh ease at end.”
Said the Wazir’s daughter, “O Princess, let not thy breast be straitened, but come with me straightway to the lattice; for there is with us in the stable1 a comely young man, slender of shape and sweet of speech, and meseemeth he is a parted lover.” Miriam asked, “And by what sign knowest thou that he is a parted lover?”; and she answered, “O Queen, I know it by his improvising odes and verses all watches of the night and tides of the day.” Quoth the Princess in herself, “If what the Wazir’s daughter says be true, these are assuredly the traits of the baffled, the wretched Ali Nur al-Din. Would I knew if indeed he be the youth of whom she speaketh.” At this thought, love-longing and distraction of passion redoubled on her and she rose at once and walking with the maiden to the lattice, looked down upon the stables, where she saw her love and lord Nur al-Din and fixing her eyes steadfastly upon him, knew him with the bestest knowledge of love, albeit he was sick, of the greatness of his affection for her and of the fire of passion, and the anguish of separation and yearning and distraction. Sore upon him was emaciation and he was improvising and saying,
“My heart is a thrall; my tears ne’er abate
And their rains the railing of clouds amate;
‘Twixt my weeping and watching and wanting love;
And whining and pining for dearest mate.
Ah my burning heat, my desire, my lowe!
For the plagues that torture my heart are eight;
And five upon five are in suite of them;
So stand and listen to all I state:
Mem’ry, madding thoughts, moaning languishment,
Stress of longing love, plight disconsolate;
In travail, affliction and strangerhood,
And annoy and joy when on her I wait.
Fail me patience and stay for engrossing care
And sorrows my suffering soul regrate.
On my heart the possession of passion grows
O who ask of what fire in my heart’s create,
Why my tears in vitals should kindle flame,
Burning heart with ardours insatiate,
Know, I’m drowned in Deluge2 of tears and my soul
From Lazá-lowe fares to Háwiyah-goal.”3
When the Princess Miriam beheld Nur al-Din and heard his loquence and verse and speech, she made certain that it was indeed her lord Nur al-Din; but she concealed her case from the Wazir’s daughter and said to her, “By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, I thought not thou knewest of my sadness!” Then she arose forthright and withdrawing from the window, returned to her own place, whilst the Wazir’s daughter went to her own occupations. The Princess awaited patiently awhile, then returned to the window and sat there, gazing upon her beloved Nur al-Din and delighting her eyes with his beauty and inner and outer grace. And indeed, she saw that he was like unto moon at full on fourteenth night; but he was ever sighing with tears never drying, for that he recalled whatso he had been abying. So he recited these couplets,
“I hope for Union with my love which I may ne’er obtain
At all, but bitterness of life is all the gain I gain:
My tears are likest to the main for ebb and flow of tide;
But when I meet the blamer-wight to staunch my tears I’m fain.
Woe to the wretch who garred us part by spelling of his spells;4
Could I but hend his tongue in hand I’d cut his tongue in twain:
Yet will I never blame the days for whatso deed they did
Mingling with merest, purest gall the cup they made me drain!
To whom shall I address myself; and whom but you shall seek
A heart left hostage in your Court, by you a captive ta’en?
Who shall avenge my wrongs on you,5 tyrant despotical
Whose tyranny but grows the more, the more I dare complain?
I made him regnant of my soul that he the reign assain
But me he wasted wasting too the soul I gave to reign.
Ho thou, the Fawn, whom I so lief erst gathered to my breast
Enow of severance tasted I to own its might and main,
Thou’rt he whose favours joined in one all beauties known to man,
Yet I thereon have wasted all my Patience’ fair domain.
I entertained him in my heart whereto he brought unrest
But I am satisfied that I such guest could entertain.
My tears for ever flow and flood, likest the surging sea
And would I wot the track to take that I thereto attain.
Yet sore I fear that I shall die in depths of my chagrin
And must despair for evermore to win the wish I’d win.”
When Miriam heard the verses of Nur al-Din the loving-hearted, the parted; they kindled in her vitals a fire of desire, and while her eyes ran over with tears, she recited these two couplets,
“I longed for him I love; but, when we met,
I was amazed nor tongue nor eyes I found.
I had got ready volumes of reproach;
But when we met, could syllable no sound.”
When Nur al-Din heard the voice of Princess Miriam, he knew it and wept bitter tears, saying, “By Allah, this is the chanting of the Lady Miriam.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 She falls in love with the groom, thus anticipating the noble self-devotion of Miss Aurora Floyd.
2 Arab. “Túfán” see vol. v. 156: here it means the “Deluge of Noah.”
3 Two of the Hells. See vol. v. 240.
4 Lit. “Out upon a prayer who imprecated our parting!”
5 The use of masculine for feminine has frequently been noted. I have rarely changed the gender or the number the plural being often employed for the singular (vol. i. 98). Such change may avoid “mystification and confusion” but this is the very purpose of the substitution which must be preserved if “local colour” is to be respected.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur al-Din heard the voice singing these verses he said in himself, “Verily this be the Lady Miriam chanting without hesitation or doubt or suspicion of one from without.1 Would Heaven I knew an my thought be true and if it be indeed she herself or other self!” And regrets redoubled upon him and he bemoaned himself and recited these couplets,
“When my blamer saw me beside my love
Whom I met in a site that lay open wide,
I spake not at meeting a word of reproach
Though oft it comfort sad heart to chide;
Quoth the blamer, ‘What means this silence that bars
Thy making answer that hits his pride?’
And quoth I, ‘O thou who as fool dost wake,
To misdoubt of lovers and Love deride;
The sign of lover whose love is true
When he meets his beloved is mum to bide.’”
When he had made an end of these verses, the Lady Miriam fetched inkcase and paper and wrote therein: “After honour due to the Basmalah,2 may the peace of Allah be upon thee and His mercy and blessings be! I would have thee know that thy slavegirl Miriam saluteth thee, who longeth sore for thee; and this is her message to thee. As soon as this letter shall fall into thy hands, do thou arise without stay and delay and apply thyself to that we would have of thee with all diligence and beware with all wariness of transgressing her commandment and of sleeping. When the first third of the night is past, (for that hour is of the most favourable of times) apply thee only to saddling the two stallions and fare forth with them both to the Sultan’s Gate.3 If any ask thee whither thou wend, answer, ‘I am going to exercise the steeds,’ and none will hinder thee; for the folk of this city trust to the locking of the gates.” Then she folded the letter in a silken kerchief and threw it out of the latticed window to Nur al-Din, who took it and reading it, knew it for the handwriting of the Lady Miriam and comprehended all its contents. So he kissed the letter and laid it between his eyes; then, calling to mind that which had betided him with her of the sweets of love-liesse, he poured forth his tears whilst he recited these couplets,
“Came your writ to me in the dead of the night
And desire for you stirred heart and sprite;
And, remembered joys we in union joyed,
Praised the Lord who placed us in parting plight.”
As soon as it was dark Nur al-Din busied himself with making ready the stallions and patiented till the first watch of the night was past; when, without a moment delay, Nur al-Din the lover full of teen, saddled them with saddles of the goodliest, and leading them forth of the stable, locked the door after him and repaired with them to the city-gate, where he sat down to await the coming of the Princess. Meanwhile, Miriam returned forthright to her private apartment, where she found the one-eyed Wazir seated, elbow-propt upon a cushion stuffed with ostrich-down; but he was ashamed to put forth his hand to her or to bespeak her. When she saw him, she appealed to her Lord in heart, saying, “Allahumma-O my God-bring him not to his will of me nor to me defilement decree after purity!” Then she went up to him and made a show of fondness for him and sat down by his side and coaxed him, saying, “O my lord, what is this aversion thou displayest to me? Is it pride or coquetry on thy part? But the current byword saith, ‘An the salam-salutation be little in demand, the sitters salute those who stand.”4 So if, O my lord, thou come not to me neither accost me, I will go to thee and accost thee.” Said he, “To thee belong favour and kindness, O Queen of the earth in its length and breadth; and what am I but one of thy slaves and the least of thy servants. Indeed, I was ashamed to intrude upon thine illustrious presence, O unique pearl, and my face is on the earth at thy feet.” She rejoined, “Leave this talk and bring us to eat and drink.” Accordingly he shouted to his eunuchs and women an order to serve food, and they set before them a tray containing birds of every king that walk and fly and in nests increase and multiply, such as sand-grouse and quails and pigeon-poults and lambs and fatted geese and fried poultry and other dishes of all sorts and colours. The Princess put out her hand to the tray and began to eat and feed the Wazir with her fair finger-tips and kiss him on the mouth. They ate till they had enough and washed their hands, after which the handmaidens removed the table of food and set on the service of wine. So Princess Miriam filled the cup and drank and gave the Wazir to drink and served him with assiduous service, so that he was like to fly for joy and his breast broadened and he was of the gladdest. When she saw that the wine had gotten the better of his senses, she thrust her hand into her bosom and brought out a pastil of virgin Cretan–Bhang, which she had provided against such an hour, whereof if an elephant smelt a dirham’s weight, he would sleep from year to year. She distracted his attention and crumbled the drug into the cup: then, filling it up, handed it to the Wazir, who could hardly credit his senses for delight. So he took it and kissing her hand, drank it off, but hardly had it settled in his stomach when he fell head foremost to the ground. Then she rose and filling two great pairs of saddle-bags with what was light of weight and weighty of worth of jewels and jacinths and precious stones, together with somewhat of meat and drink, donned harness of war and armed herself for fight. She also took with her for Nur al-Din what should rejoice him of rich and royal apparel and splendid arms and armour, and shouldering the bags (for indeed her strength equalled her valiancy), hastened forth from the new palace to join her lover. On this wise fared it with the Lady Miriam; but as regards Nur al-Din — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Wa lá rajma ghaybin:” lit. = without stone-throwing (conjecture) of one latent.
2 i.e. saying Bismillah, etc. See vol. v. 206.
3 Where he was to await her.
4 As a rule, amongst Moslems the rider salutes the man on foot and the latter those who sit. The saying in the text suggests the Christian byword anent Mohammed and the Mountain, which is, I need hardly say, utterly unknown to Mahommedans.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Lady Miriam left the new palace, she went straightways to meet her lover for indeed she was as valiant as she was strong; but Nur al-Din the distracted, the full of teen, sat at the city-gate hending the horses’ halters in hand, till Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might) sent a sleep upon him and he slept-glory be to Him who sleepeth not! Now at that time the Kings of the Islands had spent much treasure in bribing folk to steal the two steeds or one of them; and in those days there was a black slave, who had been reared in the islands skilled in horse-lifting; wherefore the Kings of the Franks seduced him with wealth galore to steal one of the stallions and promisted him, if he could avail to lift the two, that they would give him a whole island and endue him with a splendid robe of honour. He had long gone about the city of France in disguise, but succeeded not in taking the horses, whilst they were with the King; but, when he gave them in free gift to the Wazir and the monocular one carried them to his own stable, the blackamoor thief rejoiced with joy exceeding and made sure of success, saying in himself, “By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, I will certainly steal the twain of them!” Now he had gone out that very night, intending for the stable, to lift them; but, as he walked along, behold, he caught sight of Nur al-Din lying asleep, with the halters in his hands. So he went up to the horses and loosing the halters from their heads, was about to mount one of them and drive the other before him, when suddenly up came the Princess Miriam, carrying on her shoulders the couple of saddle-bags. She mistook the black for Nur al-Din and handed him one pair of bags, which he laid on one of the stallions: after which she gave him the other and he set it on the second steed, without word said to discover that it was not her lover. Then they mounted and rode out of the gate1 in silence till presently she asked, “O my lord Nur al-Din, what aileth thee to be silent?” Whereupon the black turned to her and cried angrily, “What sayst thou, O damsel?” When she heard the slave’s barbarous accents, she knew that the speech was not of Nur al-Din; so raising her eyes she looked at him and saw that he was a black chattel, snub-nosed and wide-mouthed, with nostrils like ewers; whereupon the light in her eyes became night and she asked him, “Who art thou, O Shaykh of the sons of Ham and what among men is thy name?” He answered, “O daughter of the base, my name is Mas’úd, the lifter of horses, when folk slumber and sleep.” She made him no reply, but straightway baring her blade, smote him on the nape and the blade came out gleaming from his throat-tendons, whereupon he fell earthwards, weltering in his blood, and Allah hurried his soul to the Fire and abiding-place dire. Then she took the other horse by the bridle and retraced her steps in search of Nur al-Din, whom she found lying, asleep and snoring, in the place where she had appointed him to meet her, hending the halters in hand, yet knowing not his fingers from his feet. So she dismounted and gave him a cuff,2 whereupon he awoke in affright and said to her, “O m’lady, praised be Allah for thy safe coming!” Said she “Rise and back this steed and hold thy tongue!” So he rose and mounted one of the stallions, whilst she bestrode the other, and they went forth the city and rode on awhile in silence. Then said she to him, “Did I not bid thee beware of sleeping? Verily, he prospereth not who sleepeth.” He rejoined, “O my lady, I slept not but because of the cooling of my heart by reason of thy promise. But what hath happened, O my lady?” So she told him her adventure with the black, first and last, and he said, “Praised be Allah for safety!” Then they fared on at full speed, committing their affair to the Subtle, the All-wise and conversing as they went, till they came to the place where the black lay prostrate in the dust, as he were an Ifrit, and Miriam said to Nur al-Din, “Dismount; strip him of his clothes and take his arms.” He answered, “By Allah, O my lady, I dare not dismount nor approach him.” And indeed he marvelled at the blackamoor’s stature and praised the Princess for her deed, wondering the while at her valour and stout-heartedness. They fared on lustily and ceased not so doing all that night and halted not till the day broke with its shine and sheen and the sun shone bright upon plain and height when they came to a wide riverino lea wherein the gazelles were frisking gracefully. Its surface was clothed with green and on all sides fruit trees of every kind were seen: its slopes for flowers like serpents’ bellies showed, and birds sang on boughs aloud and its rills in manifold runnels flowed. And indeed it was as saith the poet and saith well and accomplisheth the hearer’s desire,
“Rosy red Wady hot with summer-glow,
Where twofold tale of common growth was piled.
In copse we halted wherein bent to us
Branches, as bendeth nurse o’er weanling-child.
And pure cold water quenching thirst we sipped:
To cup-mate sweeter than old wine and mild:
From every side it shut out sheen of sun
Screen-like, but wooed the breeze to cool the wild:
And pebbles, sweet as maidens deckt and dight
And soft as threaded pearls, the touch beguiled.”
And as saith another,
“And when birdies o’er warble its lakelet, it gars
Longing3 lover to seek it where morning glows;
For likest to Paradise lie its banks
With shade and fruitage and fount that flows.”
Presently Princess Miriam and Nur al-Din alighted to rest in this Wady — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The story-teller does not remember that “the city-folk trust to the locking of the gates” (dccclxxxix.); and forgets to tell us that the Princess took the keys from the Wazir whom she had hocussed. In a carefully corrected Arabic Edition of The Nights, a book much wanted, the texts which are now in a mutilated state would be supplied with these details.
2 Which probably would not be the last administered to him by the Amazonian young person, who after her mate feared to approach the dead blackamoor must have known him to be cowardly as Cairenes generally are. Moreover, he had no shame in his poltroonery like the recreant Fellah-soldiers, in the wretched Sawákin campaign against the noble Súdáni negroids, who excused their running away by saying, “We are Egyptians” i.e. too good men and Moslems to lose our lives as becomes you Franks and dog-Christians. Yet under Mohammed Ali the Great, Fellah-soldiers conquered the “colligated” Arabs (Pilgrimage iii. 48) of Al–Asir (Ophir) at Bissel and in Wahhabi-land and put the Turks to flight at the battle of Nazib, and the late General Johnmus assured me that he saved his command, the Ottoman cavalry in Syria, by always manoeuvring to refuse a pitched battle. But Mohammed Ali knew his men. He never failed to shoot a runaway, and all his officers, even the lieutenants, were Turks or Albanians. Sa’id Pasha was the first to appoint Fellah-officers and under their command the Egyptian soldier, one of the best in the East, at once became the worst. We have at last found the right way to make them fight, by officering them with Englishmen, but we must not neglect the shooting process whenever they dare to turn tail.
3 “Al-walhán” (as it should be printed in previous places, instead of Al-walahán) is certainly not a P.N. in this place.
She said, It hat reached me, O auspicious King, that when Princess Miriam and Nur al-Din alighted in that valley, they ate of its fruits and frank of its streams, after turning the stallions loose to pasture: then they sat talking and recalling their past and all that had befallen them and complaining one to other of the pangs of parting and of the hardships suffered for estrangement and love-longing. As they were thus engaged, behold, there arose in the distance a dust-cloud which spread till it walled the world, and they heard the neighing of horses and clank of arms and armour. Now the reason of this was, that after the Princess had been bestowed in wedlock upon the Wazir who had gone in to her that night, the King went forth at daybreak, to give the couple good morrow, taking with him, after the custom of Kings with their daughters, a gift of silken stuffs and scattering gold and silver among the eunuchs and tire-women, that they might snatch at and scramble for it. And he fared on escorted by one of his pages; but when he came to the new palace, he found the Wazir prostrate on the carpet, knowing not his head from his heels; so he searched the place right and left for his daughter, but found her not; whereat he was troubled sore with concern galore and his wits forlore. Then he bade bring hot water and virgin vinegar and frankincense1 and mingling them together, blew the mixture into the Wazir’s nostrils and shook him, whereupon he cast the Bhang forth of his stomach, as it were a bit of cheese. He repeated the process, whereupon the Minister came to himself and the King questioned him of his case and that of his daughter. He replied, “O mighty King, I have no knowledge of her save that she poured me out a cup of wine with her own hand; and from that tide to this I have no recollection of aught nor know I what is come of her.” When the King heard this, the light in his eyes became night, and he drew his scymitar and smote the Wazir on the head, then the steel came out gleaming from between his grinder teeth. Then, without an instant delay, he called the groom sand syces and demanded of them the two stallions: but they said, “O King, the two steeds were lost in the night and together with them our chief, the Master of Horse; for, when we awoke in the morning, we found all the doors wide open.” Cried the King, “By the faith of me and by all wherein my belief is stablished on certainty, none but my daughter hath taken the steeds, she and the Moslem captive which used to tend the Church and which took her aforetime! Indeed I knew him right well and none delivered him from my hand save this one-eyed Wazir; but now he is requited his deed.” Then the King called his three sons, who were three doughty champions, each of whom could withstand a thousand horse in the field of strife and the stead where cut and thrust are rife; and bade them mount. So they took horse forthwith and the King and the flower of his knights and nobles and officers mounted with them and followed on the trail of the fugitives till Miriam saw them, when she mounted her charger and baldrick’d her blade and took her arms. Then she said to Nur al-Din, “How is it with thee and how is thy heart for fight and strife and fray?” Said he, “Verily, my steadfastness in battle-van is as the steadfastness of the stake in bran.”2 And he improvised and said,
“O Miriam thy chiding I pray, forego;
Nor drive me to death or injurious blow:
How e’er can I hope to bear fray and fight
Who quake at the croak of the corby-crow?
I who shiver for fear when I see the mouse
And for very funk I bepiss my clo’!
I loveno foin but the poke in bed,
When coynte well knoweth my prickle’s prow;
This is rightful rede, and none other shows
Righteous as this in my sight, I trow.”
Now when Miriam heard his speech and the verse he made, she laughed and smilingly said, “O my lord Nur al-Din, abide in thy place and I will keep thee from their ill grace, though they be as the sea-sands in number. But mount and ride in rear of me, and if we be defeated and put to flight, beware of falling, for none can overtake thy steed.” So saying, she turned her lance-head towards foe in plain and gave her horse the rein, whereupon he darted off under her, like the stormy gale or like waters that from straitness of pipes outrail. Now Miriam was the doughtiest of the folk of her time and the unique pearl of her age and tide; for her father had taught her, whilst she was yet little, on steeds to ride and dive deep during the darkness of the night in the battle tide. When the King saw her charging down upon them, he knew her but too well and turning to his eldest son, said, “O Bartaut,3 thou who art surnamed Ras al-Killaut4 this is assuredly thy sister Miriam who chargeth upon us, and she seeketh to wage war and fight fray with us. So go thou out to give her battle: and I enjoin thee by the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, an thou get the better of her, kill her not till thou have propounded to her the Nazarene faith. An she return to her old creed, bring her to me prisoner; but an she refuse, do her die by the foulest death and make of her the vilest of examples, as well as the accursed which is with her.” Quoth Bartaut, “Hearkening obedience”; and, rushing out forthright to meet his sister, said to her, “O Miriam, doth not what hath already befallen us on thine account suffice thee, but thou must leave the faith of thy fathers and forefathers and follow after the faith of the Vagrants in the lands, that is to say, the faith of Al–Islam? By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, except thou return to the creed of the Kings thy Forebears and walk therein after the goodliest fashion, I will put thee to an ill death and make of thee the most shameful of ensamples!” But Miriam laughed at his speech and replied, “Well-away! Far be it that the past should present stay or that he who is dead should again see day! I will make thee drink the sourest of regrets! By Allah, I will not turn back upon the faith of Mohammed son of Abdullah, who made salvation general; for his is the True Faith; nor will I leave the right road though I drain the cup of ruin!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kundur,” Pers. and Arab. manna, mastich, frankincense, the latter being here meant.
2 So Emma takes the lead and hides her lover under her cloak during their flight to the place where they intended to lie concealed. In both cases the women are the men.
3 Or “Bartút,” in which we recognise the German Berthold.
4 i.e. Head of Killaut which makes, from the Muhít, “the name of a son of the sons of the Jinn and the Satans.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Miriam exclaimed to her brother, “Well-away! Heaven forfend that I turn back from the faith of Mohammed Abdullah-son who made salvation general; for his is the Right Road nor will I leave it although I drain the cup of ruin.” When the accursed Bartaut heard this, the light in his eyes became night, the matter was great and grievous to him and between them there befel a sore fight. The twain swayed to and fro battling throughout the length and breadth of the valley and manfully enduring the stress of combat singular, whilst all eyes upon them were fixed in admiring surprise: after which they wheeled about and foined and feinted for a long bout and as often as Bartaut opened on his sister Miriam a gate of war,1 she closed it to and put it to naught, of the goodliness of her skill and her art in the use of arms and her cunning of cavalarice. Nor ceased they so doing till the dust overhung their heads vault-wise and they were hidden from men’s eyes; and she ceased not to baffle Bartaut and stop the way upon him, till he was weary and his courage wavered and his resolution was worsted and his strength weakened; whereupon she smote him on the nape, that the sword came out gleaming from his throat tendons and Allah hurried his soul to the Fire and the abiding-place which is dire. Then Miriam wheeled about in the battleplain and the stead where cut and thrust are fain; and championed it and offered battle, crying out and saying, “Who is for fighting? Who is for jousting? Let come forth to me to-day no weakling or niderling; ay, let none come forth to me but the champions who the enemies of The Faith represent, that I may give them to drink the cup of ignominious punishment. O worshippers of idols, O miscreants, O rebellious folk, this day verily shall the faces of the people of the True Faith be whitened and theirs who deny the Compassionate be blackened!” Now when the King saw his eldest son slain, he smote his face and rent his dress and cried out to his second son, saying, “O Batrús, thou who art surnamed Khara al-Sús,2 go forth, O my son, in haste and do battle with thy sister Miriam; avenge me the death of thy brother Bartaut and bring her to me a prisoner, abject and humiliated!” He answered, “Hearkening and obedience, O my sire, and charging down drave at his sister, who met him in mid-career, and they fought, he and she, a sore fight, yet sorer than the first. Bartus right soon found himself unable to cope with her might and would have sought safety in flight, but of the greatness of her prowess could not avail unto this sleight; for, as often as he turned to flee, she drave after him and still clave to him and pressed him hard, till presently she smote him with the sword in his throat, that it issued gleaming from his nape, and sent him after his brother. Then she wheeled about in the mid-field and plain where cut and thrust are dealed, crying out and saying, “Where be the Knights? Where be the Braves? Where is the one-eyed Wazir, the lameter, of the crooked faith3 the worthy believer?” Thereupon the King her father cried out with heart in bleeding guise and tear-ulcerated eyes, saying, “She hath slain my second son, by the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar!” And he called aloud to his youngest son, saying, “O Fasyán, surnamed Salh al-Subyán,4 go forth, O my son, to do battle with thy sister and take of her the blood-wreak for thy brothers and fall on her, come what may; and whether thou gain or thou lose the day;5 and if thou conquer her, slay her with foulest slaughter!” So he drave out to Miriam, who ran at him with the best of her skill and charged him with the goodliness of her cleverness and her courage and her cunning in fence and cavalarice, crying to him, “O accursed, O enemy of Allah and the Moslems, I will assuredly send thee after thy brothers and woeful is the abiding-place of the Miscreants!” So saying, she unsheathed her sword and smote him and cut off his head and arms and sent him after his brothers and Allah hurried his soul to the Fire and the abiding-place dire. Now when the Knights and riders who rode with her sire saw his three sons slain, who were the doughtiest of the folk of their day, there fell on their hearts terror of the Princess Miriam, awe of her overpowered them; they bowed their heads earthwards and they made sure of ruin and confusion, disgrace and destruction. So with the flames of hate blazing in heart they turned their backs forthright and addressed themselves to flight. When the King saw his sons slain and on his flying troops cast sight, there fell on him bewilderment and affright, whilst his heart also was a-fire for despight. Then quoth he to himself, “In very sooth Princess Miriam hath belittled us; and if I venture myself and go out against her alone, haply she will gar me succumb and slay me without ruth, even as she slew her brothers and make of me the foulest of examples, for she hath no longer any desire for us nor have we of her return any hope. Wherefore it were the better rede that I guard mine honour and return to my capital.” So he gave reins to his charger and rode back to his city. But when he found himself in his palace, fire was loosed in his heart for rage and chagrin at the death of his three gallant sons and the defeat of his troops and the disgrace to his honour; nor did he abide half an hour ere he summoned his Grandees and Officers of state and complained to them of that his daughter Miriam had done with him of the slaughter of her brothers and all he suffered therefrom of passion and chagrin, and sought advice of them. They all counselled him to write to the Vicar of Allah in His earth, the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, and acquaint him with his circumstance. So he wrote a letter to the Caliph, containing, after the usual salutations, the following words. “We have a daughter, Miriam the Girdle-girl hight, who hath been seduced and debauched from us by a Moslem captive, named Nur al-Din Ali, son of the merchant Taj al-Din of Cairo, and he hath taken her by night and went forth with her to his own country; wherefore I beg of the favour of our lord the Commander of the Faithful that he write to all the lands of the Moslems to seize her and send her back to us by a trusty messenger.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. attacked her after a new fashion: see vol. i. 136.
2 i.e. Weevil’s dung; hence Suez = Suways the little weevil, or “little Sus” from the Maroccan town: see The Mines of Midian p. 74 for a note on the name. Near Gibraltar is a fuimara called Guadalajara i.e. Wady al-Khara, of dung. “Bartús” is evidently formed “on the weight” of “Bartút;” and his metonym is a caricature, a chaff fit for Fellahe.
3 Arab. “Al–Din al-a’raj,” the perverted or falsified Faith, Christianity having been made obsolete and abolished by the Mission of Mohammed, even as Christianity claims to have superseded the Mosaic and Noachian dispensations. Moslems are perfectly logical in their deductions, but logic and truth do not always go together.
4 The “Breaker of Wind” (faswah — a fizzle, a silent crepitus) “son of Children’s dung.”
5 Arab. “Ammá laka an ‘alayk” lit. = either to thee (be the gain) or upon thee (be the loss). This truly Arabic idiom is varied in many ways.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King of France wrote to the Caliph and Prince of True Believers, Harun al-Rashid, a writ humbling himself by asking for his daughter Miriam and begging of his favour that he write to all the Moslems, enjoining her seizure and sending back to him by a trusty messenger of the servants of his Highness the Commander of the Faithful; adding, “And in requital of your help and aidance in this matter, we will appoint to you half of the city of Rome the Great, that thou mayst build therein mosques for the Moslems, and the tribute thereof shall be forwarded to you.” And after writing this writ, by rede of his Grandees and Lords of the land, he folded the scroll and calling his Wazir, whom he had appointed in the stead of the monocular Minister, bade him seal it with the seal of the kingdom, and the Officers of state also set hands and seals thereto; after which the King bade the Wazir bear the letter to Baghdad,1 the Palace of Peace, and hand it into the Caliph’s own hand, saying, “An thou bring her back, thou shalt have of me the fiefs of two Emirs and I will bestow on thee a robe of honour with two-fold fringes of gold.” The Wazir set out with the letter and fared on over hill and dale, till he came to the city of Baghdad, where he abode three days, till he was rested from the way, when he sought the Palace of the Commander of the Faithful and when guided thereto he entered it and craved audience. The Caliph bade admit him; so he went in and kissing ground before him, handed to him the letter of the King of France, together with rich gifts and rare presents beseeming the Commander of the Faithful. When the Caliph read the writ and apprehended its significance, he commanded his Wazir to write, without stay or delay, despatches to all the lands of the Moslems, setting out the name and favour of Princess Miriam and of Nur al-Din, stating how they had eloped and bidding all who found them lay hands on them and send them to the Commander of the Faithful, and warning them on no wise in that matter to use delay or indifference. So the Wazir wrote the letters and sealing them, despatched them by couriers to the different Governors, who hastened to obey the Caliph’s commandment and addressed themselves to make search in all the lands for persons of such name and favour. On this wise it fared with the Governors and their subjects; but as regards Nur al-Din and Miriam the Girdle-girl, they fared on without delay after defeating the King of France and his force and the Protector protected them, till they came to the land of Syria and entered Damascus-city. Now the couriers of the Caliph had foregone them thither by a day and the Emir of Damascus knew that he was commanded to arrest the twain as soon as found, that he might send them to the Caliph. Accordingly, when they entered the city, the secret police2 accosted them and asked them their names. They told them the truth and acquainted them with their adventure and all that had betided them; whereupon they knew them for those of whom they were in search and seizing them, carried them before the Governor of the city. He despatched them to the city of Baghdad under escort of his officers who, when they came thither, craved audience of the Caliph which he graciously granted; so they came into the presence; and, kissing ground before him, said, “O Commander of the Faithful, this is Miriam the Girdle-girl, daughter of the King of France, and this is the captive Nur al-Din, son of the merchant Taj al-Din of Cairo, who debauched her from her sire and stealing her from his kingdom and country fled with her to Damascus, where we found the twain as they entered the city, and questioned them. They told us the truth of their case: so we laid hands on them and brought them before thee.” The Caliph looked at Miriam and saw that she was slender and shapely of form and stature, the handsomest of the folk of her tide and the unique pearl of her age and her time; sweet of speech3 and fluent of tongue, stable of soul and hearty of heart. Thereupon she kissed the ground between his hands and wished him permanence of glory and prosperity and surcease of evil and enmity. He admired the beauty of her figure and the sweetness of her voice and the readiness of her replies and said to her, “Art thou Miriam the Girdle-girl, daughter of the King of France?” Answered she, “Yes, O Prince of True Believers and Priest of those who the Unity of Allah receive and Defender of the Faith and cousin of the Primate of the Apostles!” Then the Caliph turned to Nur al-Din Ali and seeing him to be a shapely youth, as he were the shining full moon on fourteenth night, said to him, “And thou, art thou Ali Nur al-Din, son of the merchant Taj al-Din of Cairo?” Said he, “Yes, O Commander of the Faithful and stay of those who for righteousness are care-full!” The Caliph asked, “How cometh it that thou hast taken this damsel and fled forth with her of her father’s kingdom?” So Nur al-Din proceeded to relate to the Commander of the Faithful all his past, first and last; whereat the Caliph was astonied with extreme astonishment and diverted and exclaimed, “How manifold are the sufferings that men suffer!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In addition to what was noted in vol. iii. 100 and viii. 51, I may observe that in the “Masnavi” the “Baghdad of Nulliquity” is opposed to the Ubiquity of the World. The popular derivation is Bagh (the idol-god, the slav “Bog”) and dád a gift, he gave (Persian). It is also called Al–Zaurá = a bow, from the bend of the Tigris where it was built.
2 Arab. “Jawásís” plur. of Jásús lit. the spies.
3 The Caliph could not “see” her “sweetness of speech”; so we must understand that he addressed her and found out that she was fluent of tongue. But this idiomatic use of the word “see” is also found in the languages of Southern Europe: so Camoens (Lus. 1. ii.), “Ouvi vereis” lit. = “hark, you shall see” which sounds Hibernian.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid asked Nur al-Din of his adventure and was told of all that had passed, first and last, he was astonied with extreme astonishment and exclaimed, “How manifold are the sufferings that men suffer!” Then he turned to the Princess and said to her, “Know, O Miriam, that thy father, the King of France, hath written to me anent thee. What sayst thou?” She replied, “O Vicar of Allah on His earth and Executor of the precepts of His prophet and commands to man’s unworth,1 may He vouchsafe thee eternal prosperity and ward thee from evil and enmity! Thou art Viceregent of Allah in His earth and I have entered thy Faith, for that it is the creed which Truth and Righteousness inspire; and I have left the religion of the Miscreants who make the Messiah a liar,2 and I am become a True Believer in Allah the Bountiful and in the revelation of His compassionate Apostle. I worship Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and acknowledge Him to be the One God and prostrate myself humbly before Him and glorify Him; and I say before the Caliph, ‘Verily, I testify that there is no god but the God and I testify that Mohammed is the Messenger of God, whom He sent with the Guidance and the True Faith, that He might make it victorious over every other religion, albeit they who assign partners to God be averse from it.’3 Is it therefore in thy competence, O Commander of the Faithful, to comply with the letter of the King of the heretics and send me back to the land of the schismatics who deny The Faith and give partners to the All-wise King, who magnify the Cross and bow down before idols and believe in the divinity of Jesus, for all he was only a creature? An thou deal with me thus, O Viceregent of Allah, I will lay hold upon thy skirts on the Day of Muster before the Lord and make my complaint of thee to thy cousin the Apostle of Allah (whom God assain and preserve!) on the Day when wealth availeth not neither children save one come unto Allah wholehearted!”4 Answered the Caliph, “O Miriam, Allah forfend that I should do this ever! How can I send back a Moslemah believer in the one God and in His Apostle to that which Allah hath forbidden and eke His Messenger hath forbidden?” Quoth she, “I testify that there is no god but the God and that Mohammed is the Apostle of God!” Rejoined the Caliph, “O Miriam, Allah bless and direct thee in the way of righteousness! Since thou art a Moslemah and a believer in Allah the One, I owe thee a duty of obligation and it is that I should never transgress against thee nor forsake thee, though be lavished unto me on thine account the world full of gold and gems. So be of good cheer and eyes clear of tear; and be thy breast broadened and thy case naught save easy. Art thou willing that this youth Ali of Cairo be to thee man and thou to him wife?” Replied Miriam, “O Prince of True Believers, how should I be other than willing to take him to husband, seeing that he bought me with his money and hath entreated me with the utmost kindness and, for crown of his good offices, he hath ventured his life for my sake many times?” So the Caliph summoned the Kazi and the witneses and married her to him assigning her a dowry and causing the Grandees of his realm be present and the marriage day was a notable. Then he turned to the Wazir of the French King, who was present, and said to him, “Hast thou heard her words? How can I her send back to her father the Infidel, seeing that she is a Moslemah and a believer in the Unity? Belike he will evil entreat her and deal harshly with her, more by token that she hath slain his sons, and I shall bear blame for her on Resurrection-day. And indeed quoth the Almighty ‘Allah will by no means make a way for the Infidels over the True Believers.’5 So return to thy King and say to him, ‘Turn from this thing and hope not to come at thy desire thereof.’” Now this Wazir was a Zany: so he said to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, by the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, were Miriam forty times a Moslemah and forty times thereto, I may not depart from thee without that same Miriam! And if thou send her not back with me of free will, I will hie me to her sire and cause him despatch thee an host, wherewith I will come upon you from the landward and the seaward; and the van whereof shall be at your capital city whilst the rear is yet on the Euphrates6 and they shall lay waste thy realms.” When the Caliph heard these words from the accursed Wazir of the King of France, the light in his face became night and he was wroth at his speech with exceeding wrath and said to him, “O damned one, O dog of the Nazarenes, art thou come to such power that thou durst assail me with the King of the Franks?” Then quoth he to his guards, “Take this accursed and do him die”; and he repeated this couplet,7
“This be his recompense who will
Oppose and thwart his betters’ will.”
Then he commanded to cut off the Wazir’s head and burn his body; but Princess Miriam cried, “O Commander of the Faithful, soil not thy sword with the blood of this accursed.” So saying, she barred her brand and smote him and made his head fly from his corpse, and he went to the house of ungrace; his abode was Gehenna, and evil is the abiding-place. The Caliph marvelled at the force of her fore-arm and the strength of her mind, and they carried the dead Wazir forth of the pavilion and burnt him. Then the Commander of the Faithful bestowed upon Nur al-Din a splendid robe of honour and assigned to him and her a lodging in his palace. Moreover, he appointed them solde and rations, and commanded to transport to their quarters all they needed of raiment and furniture and vessels of price. They sojourned awhile in Baghdad in all delight of life and solace thereof till Nur al-Din longed for his mother and father. So he submitted the matter to the Caliph and sought his leave to revisit his native land and visit his kinsfolk, and he granted him the permission he sought and calling Miriam, commended them each to other. He also loaded them with costly presents and rarities and bade write letters to the Emirs and Olema and notables of Cairo the God-guarded, commending Nur al-Din and his wife and parents to their care and charging them honour them with the highmost honour. When the news reached Cairo, the merchant Taj al-Din joyed at the return of his son and Nur al-Din’s mother likewise rejoiced therein with passing joy. The Emirs and the notables of the city went forth to meet him, in obedience to the Caliph’s injunctions, and indeed it was for them a right note-worthy day, wherein foregathered the lover and the beloved and the seeker attained the sought. Moreover, alit he Emirs made them bride-feasts, each on his own day, and joyed in them with joy exceeding and vied in doing them honour, one the other succeeding. When Nur al-Din foregathered with his mother and father, they were gladdened in each other with the utmost gladness and care and affliction ceased from them, whilst his parents joyed no less in the Princess Miriam and honoured her with the highmost honour. Every day, there came to them presents from all the Emirs and great merchants, and they were in new delight and gladness exceeding the gladness of festival. Then they ceased not abiding in solace and pleasance and good cheer and abounding prosperity, eating and drinking with mirth and merriment, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and Sunderer of societies, Waster of houses and palace-domes and Peopler of the bellies of the tombs. So they were removed from worldly stead and became of the number of the dead; and glory be to the Living One, who dieth not and in whose hand are the keys of the Seen and the Unseen! And a tale was also told by the Emir Shujá al-Dín,8 Prefect of Cairo anent
1 Here “Farz” (Koranic obligation which it is mortal sin to gainsay) follows whereas it should precede “Sunnat” (sayings and doings of the Apostle) simply because “Farz” jingles with “Arz” (earth).
2 Moslems, like modern Agnostics, hold that Jesus of Nazareth would be greatly scandalized by the claims to Godship advanced for him by his followers.
3 Koran ix. 33: See also v. 85. In the passage above quoted Mr. Rodwell makes the second “He” refer to the deity.
4 Koran xxvi. 88, 89. For a very indifferent version (and abridgment) of this speech, see Saturday Review, July 9, 1881.
5 Koran iv. 140.
6 Arab. “Furát” from the Arab. “Faruta” = being sweet, as applied to water. Al–Furátáni = the two sweet (rivers), are the Tigris and Euphrates. The Greeks, who in etymology were satisfied with Greek {Greek text}, derived the latter from {Greek letters} (to gladden, laetificare, for which see Pliny and Strabo, although both are correct in explaining “Tigris”) and Selden remarks hereon, “Talibus nugis nugantur Graeculi.” But not only the “Graeculi”; e.g. Parkhurst’s good old derivations from the Heb. “Farah” of fero, fructus, Freya (the Goddess), frayer (to spawn), friand, fry (of fish), etc., etc.
7 The great Caliph was a poet; and he spoke verses as did all his contemporaries: his lament over his slave-girl Haylanah (Helen) is quoted by Al–Suyuti, p. 305.
8 “The Brave of the Faith.”
We lay one night in the house of a man of the Sa’íd or Upper Egypt, and he entertained us and entreated us hospitably. Now he was a very old man with exceeding swarthiness, and he had little children, who were white, of a white dashed with red. So we said to him, “Harkye, such an one, how cometh it that these thy children are white, whilst thou thyself art passing swart?” and he said, “Their mother was a Frankish woman, whom I took prisoner in the days of Al–Malik al-Násir Saláh al-Dín,1 after the battle of Hattín, 2 when I was a young man.” We asked, “And how gottest thou her?” and he answered, “I had a rare adventure with her.” Quoth we, “Favour us with it;” and quoth he, “With all my heart! You must know that I once sowed a crop of flax in these parts and pulled it and scutched it and spent on it five hundred gold pieces; after which I would have sold it, but could get no more than this therefor, and the folk said to me, ‘Carry it to Acre: for there thou wilt haply make good gain by it.’ Now Acre was then in the hands of the Franks; 3 so I carried my flax thither and sold part of it at six months’ credit. One day, as I was selling, behold, there came up a Frankish woman (now ‘tis the custom of the women of the Franks to go about with market streets with unveiled faces), to buy flax of me, and I saw of her beauty what dazed my wits. So I sold her somewhat of flax and was easy with her concerning the price; and she took it and went away. Some days after, she returned and bought somewhat more flax of me and I was yet easier with her about the price; and she repeated her visits to me, seeing that I was in love with her. Now she was used to walk in company of an old woman to whom I said, “I am sore enamoured of thy mistress. Canst thou contrive for me to enjoy her?” Quoth she, ‘I will contrive this for thee; but the secret must not go beyond us three, me, thee and her; and there is no help but that thou be lavish with money, to boot.’ And I answered, saying, ‘Though my life were the price of her favours ’twere no great matter.’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e., Saladin. See vol. iv. p. 116.
2 usually called the Horns of Hattin (classically Hittin) North of Tiberias where Saladin by good strategy and the folly of the Franks annihilated the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem. For details see the guide-books. In this action (June 23, 1187), after three bishops were slain in its defence, the last fragment of the True Cross (or rather the cross verified by Helena) fell into Moslem hands. The Christians begged hard for it, but Saladin, a conscientious believer, refused to return to them even for ransom “the object of their iniquitous superstition.” His son, however, being of another turn, would have sold it to the Franks who then lacked money to purchase. It presently disappeared and I should not be surprised if it were still lying, an unknown and inutile lignum in some Cairene mosque.
3 Akká (Acre) was taken by Saladin on July 29, 1187. The Egyptian states that he was at Acre in 1184 or three years before the affair of Hattin (Night dcccxcv.).
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the old woman said to the man, “However the secret must not go beyond us three, to wit me, thee and her; and there is no help but thou be lavish of thy money to boot.” He replied, “Though my life were the price of her favours ’twere no great matter.” “So it was agreed” (continued the man of Upper Egypt), “that I should pay her fifty dinars and that she should come to me; whereupon I procured the money and gave it to the old woman. She took it and said, ‘Make ready a place for her in thy house, and she will come to thee this night.’ Accordingly I went home and made ready what I could of meat and drink and wax candles and sweetmeats. Now my house overlooked the sea and ’twas the season of summer; so I spread the bed on the terrace roof. Presently, the Frank woman came and we ate and drank, and the night fell dark. We lay down under the sky, with the moon shining on us, and fell to watching the shimmering of the stars in the sea: and I said to myself, ‘Art not ashamed before Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) and thou a stranger, under the heavens and in presence of the deep waters, to disobey Him with a Nazarene woman and merit the torment of Fire?’ Then said I, ‘O my God, I call Thee to witness that I abstain from this Christian woman this night, of shamefastness before Thee and fear of Thy vengeance!’ So I slept till the morning, and she arose at peep of day full of anger and went away. I walked to my shop and sat there; and behold, presently she passed, as she were the moon, accompanied by the old woman who was also angry; whereat my heart sank within me and I said to myself, ‘Who art thou that thou shouldst refrain from yonder damsel? Art thou Sarí al-Sakatí or Bishr Barefoot or Junayd of Baghdad or Fuzayl bin ‘Iyáz?’1 then I ran after the old woman and coming up with her said to her, ‘Bring her to me again;’ and said she, ‘By the virtue of the Messiah, she will not return to thee but for an hundred ducats!’ Quoth I, ‘I will give thee a hundred gold pieces.’ So I paid her the money and the damsel came to me a second time; but no sooner was she with me than I returned to my whilome way of thinking and abstained from her and forbore her for the sake of Allah Almighty. Presently she went away and I walked to my shop, and shortly after the old woman came up, in a rage. Quoth I to her, ‘Bring her to me again;’ and quoth she, ‘By the virtue of the Messiah, thou shalt never again enjoy her presence with thee, except for five hundred ducats, and thou shalt perish in thy pain!’ At this I trembled and resolved to spend the whole price of my flax and therewith ransom my life. But, before I could think I heard the crier proclaiming and saying, ‘Ho, all ye Moslems, the truce which was between us and you is expired, and we give all of you Mahometans who are here a week from this time to have done with your business and depart to your own country.’ Thus her visits were cut off from me and I betook myself to getting in the price of the flax which men had bought upon credit, and to bartering what remained in my hands for other goods. Then I took with me fair merchandise and departed Acre with a soul full of affection and love-longing for the Frankish woman, who had taken my heart and my coin. So I journeyed until I made Damascus, where I sold the stock in trade I had brought from Acre, at the highest price, because of the cutting off of communication by reason of the term of truce having expired; and Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) vouchsafed me good gain. Then I fell to trading in captive slave-girls, thinking thus to ease my heart of its pining for the Frankish woman, and in this traffic engaged I abode three years, till there befel between Al–Malik al-Násir and the Franks what befel of the action of Hattin and other encounters and Allah gave him the victory over them, so that he took all their Kings prisoners and he opened 2 the coast 3 cities by His leave. Now it fortuned one day after this, that a man came to me and sought of me a slave-girl for Al–Malik al-Nasir. Having a handsome handmaid I showed her to him and he bought her of me for an hundred dinars and gave me ninety thereof, leaving ten still due me, for that there was no more found in the royal treasury that day, because he had expended all his monies in waging war against the Franks. Accordingly they took counsel with him and he said, ‘Carry him to the treasury4 where are the captives’ lodging and give him his choice among the damsels of the Franks, so he may take one of them for the ten dinars,’” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Famous Sufis and ascetics of the second and third centuries A.H. For Bishr Barefoot, see vol. ii. p. 127. Al–Sakati means “the old-clothes man;” and the names of the others are all recorded in D’Herbelot.
2 i.e., captured, forced open their gates.
3 Arab. “Al-Sáhil” i.e. the seaboard of Syria; properly Phoenicia or the coast-lands of Southern Palestine. So the maritime lowlands of continental Zanzibar are called in the plur. Sawáhil = “the shores” and the people Sawáhílí = Shore-men.
4 Arab. “Al–Khizánah” both in Mac. Edit. and Breslau x. 426. Mr. Payne has translated “tents” and says, “Saladin seems to have been encamped without Damascus and the slave-merchant had apparently come out and pitched his tent near the camp for the purposes of his trade.” But I can find no notice of tents till a few lines below.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that whenas Al–Malik al-Nasir said, “ ‘Give him his choice to take one of the girls for the ten dinars that are due to him;’ they brought me to the captives’ lodging and showed me all who were therein, and I saw amongst them the Frankish damsel with whom I had fallen in love at Acre and knew her right well. Now she was the wife of one of the cavaliers of the Franks. So I said, ‘Give me this one,’ and carrying her to my tent, asked her, ‘Dost thou know me?’ She answered, ‘No;’ and I rejoined, ‘I am thy friend, the sometime flax-merchant with whom thou hadst to do at Acre and there befel between us what befel. Thou tookest money of me and saidest, ‘Thou shalt never again see me but for five hundred dinars.’ And now thou art become my property for ten ducats.’ Quoth she, ‘This is a mystery. Thy faith is the True Faith and I testify that there is no god but the God and that Mohammed is the Messenger of God!’ And she made perfect profession of Al–Islam. Then said I to myself, ‘By Allah, I will not go in unto her till I have set her free and acquainted the Kazi.’ So I betook myself to Ibn Shaddád1 and told him what had passed and he married me to her. Then I lay with her that night and she conceived; after which the troops departed and we returned to Damascus. But within a few days there came an envoy from the King of the Franks, to seek the captives and the prisoners, according to the treaty between the Kings. So Al–Malik al-Nasir restored all the men and women captive, till there remained but the woman who was with me and the Franks said, ‘The wife of such an one the Knight is not here.’ Then they asked after her and making strict search for her, found that she was with me; whereupon they demanded her of me and I went in to her sore concerned and with colour changed; and she said to me, ‘What aileth thee and what evil assaileth thee?’ Quoth I, ‘A messenger is come from the King to take all the captives, and they demand thee of me.’ Quoth she, ‘Have no fear, bring me to the King and I know what to say before and to him.’ I carried her into the presence of the Sultan Al–Malik al-Nasir, who was seated, with the envoy of the King of the Franks on his right hand, and I said to him, ‘This is the woman that is with me.’ Then quoth the King and the envoy to her, ‘Wilt thou go to thy country or to2 thy husband? For Allah hath loosed thy bonds and those of thy fellow captives.’ Quoth she to the Sultan, ‘I am become a Moslemah and am great with child, as by my middle ye may see, and the Franks shall have no more profit of me.’ The envoy asked, ‘Whether is dearer to thee, this Moslem or thy first husband and knight such an one?;’ and she answered him even as she had answered the Sultan. Then said the envoy to the Franks with him, ‘Heard ye her words?’ They replied, ‘Yes.’ And he said to me, ‘Take thy wife and depart with her.’ So I took her and went away; but the envoy sent after me in haste and cried, ‘Her mother gave me a charge for her, saying, ‘My daughter is a captive and naked; and I would have thee carry her this chest.’ Take it thou and deliver it to her.’ Accordingly I carried the chest home and gave it to her. She opened it and found in it all her raiment as she had left it and therein I saw the two purses of fifty and an hundred dinars which I had given her, untouched and tied up with my own tying, wherefore I praised Almighty Allah. There are my children by her and she is alive to this day and ’twas she dressed you this food.” We marvelled at his story and at that which had befallen him of good fortune, and Allah is All-knowing. But men also tell a tale anent the
There was of old time in Baghdad a man of condition, who had inherited from his father abounding affluence. He fell in love with a slave-girl; so he bought her and she loved him as he loved her; and he ceased not to spend upon her, till all his money was gone and naught remained thereof; whereupon he sought a means of getting his livelihood, but availed not to find any. Now this young man had been used, in the days of his affluence, to frequent the assemblies of those who were versed in the art of singing and had thus attained to the utmost excellence therein. Presently he took counsel with one of his intimates, who said to him, “Meseems thou canst find no better profession than to sing, thou and thy slave-girl; for on this wise thou wilt get money in plenty and wilt eat and drink.” But he misliked this, he and the damsel, and she said to him, “I have bethought me of a means of relief for thee.” He asked, “What is it?;” and she answered, “Do thou sell me; thus shall we be delivered of this strait, thou and I, and I shall be in affluence; for none will buy the like of me save a man of fortune, and with this I will contrive for my return to thee.” He carried her to the market and the first who saw her was a Hashimi1 of Bassorah, a man of good breeding, fine taste and generosity, who bought her for fifteen hundred dinars. (Quoth the young man, the damsel’s owner), “When I had received the price, I repented me and wept, I and the damsel; and I sought to cancel the sale; but the purchaser would not consent. So I took the gold in a bag, knowing not whither I should wend, now my house was desolate of her and buffeted my face and wept and wailed as I had never done before. Then I entered a mosque and sat shedding tears, till I was stupefied and losing my senses fell asleep, with the bag of money under my head by way of pillow. Presently, ere I could be ware, a man plucked the bag from under my head and ran off with it at speed: whereupon I started up in alarm and affright and would have arisen to run after him; but lo! my feet were found with a rope and I fell on my face. Then I took to weeping and buffeting myself, saying, ‘Thou hast parted with thy soul2 and thy wealth is lost!’”- — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A descendant of Háshim, the Apostle’s great-grandfather from whom the Abbasides were directly descended. The Ommiades were less directly akin to Mohammed, being the descendants of Hashim’s brother, Abd al-Shams. The Hashimis were famed for liberality; and the quality seems to have been inherited. The first Háshim got his name from crumbling bread into the Saríd or brewis of the Meccan pilgrims during “The Ignorance.” He was buried at Ghazzah (Gaza) but his tomb was soon forgotten.
2 i.e. thy lover.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young man continued, “So I said to myself, ‘Thou hast parted with thy soul and thy wealth is lost.’ Then, of the excess of my chagrin, I betook myself to the Tigris and wrapping my face in my gown, cast myself into the stream. The bystanders saw me and cried, ‘For sure, this is because of some great trouble that hath betided him.’ They cast themselves in after me and bringing me ashore, questioned me of my case. I told them what misadventure had befallen me and they condoled with me. Then an old man of them came to me and said, ‘Thou hast lost thy money, but why goest thou about to lose thy life and become of the people of The Fire?1 Arise, come with me, that I may see thy lodging.’ I went with him to my house and he sat with me awhile, till I waxed calmer, and becoming tranquil I thanked him and he went away. When he was gone I was like to kill myself, but bethought me of the Future and the Fire; so I fared forth my house and fled to one of my friends and told him what had befallen me. He wept for pity of me and gave me fifty dinars, saying, ‘Take my advice and hie thee from Baghdad forthright and let this provide thee till thy heart be diverted from the love of her and thou forget her. Thy forbears were Secretaries and Scribes and thy handwriting is fine and thy breeding right good: seek out, then, whom thou wilt of the Intendants2 and throw thyself on his bounty; thus haply Allah shall reunite thee with thy slave-girl.’ I hearkened to his words (and indeed my mind was strengthened and I was somewhat comforted) and resolved to betake myself to Wasit,3 where I had kinfolk. So I went down to the river-side, where I saw a ship moored and the sailors embarking goods and goodly stuffs. I asked them to take me with them and carry me to Wásit; but they replied, ‘We cannot take thee on such wise, for the ship belongeth to a Hashimi.’ However, I tempted them with promise of passage-money and they said, ‘We cannot embark thee on this fashion;4 but, if it must be, doff those fine clothes of thine and don sailor’s gear and sit with us as thou wert one of us.’ I went away and buying somewhat of sailors’ clothes, put them on; after which I bought me also somewhat of provisions for the voyage; and, returning to the vessel, which was bound for Bassorah, embarked with the crew. But ere long I saw my slave-girl herself come on board, attended by two waiting-women; whereupon what was on me of chagrin subsided and I said in myself, ‘Now shall I see her and hear her singing, till we come to Bassorah.’ Soon after, up rode the Hashimi, with a party of people, and they embarked aboard the ship, which dropped down the river with them. Presently the Hashimi brought out food and ate with the damsel, whilst the rest ate amidships. Then said he to her, ‘How long this abstinence from singing and permanence in this wailing and weeping? Thou art not the first that hath been parted from a beloved!’ Wherefore I knew what she suffered for love of me. Then he hung a curtain before her along the gunwale and calling those who ate apart, sat down with them without the curtain; and I enquired concerning them and behold they were his brethren.5 he set before them what they needed of wine and dessert, and they ceased not to press the damsel to sing, till she called for the lute and tuning it, intoned these two couplets,
‘The company left with my love by night,
Nor forbore to fare with heart’s delight:
And raged, since their camels off paced, a fire
As of Ghazá6-wood in the lover’s sprite.’
Then weeping overpowered her and she threw down the elute and ceased singing; whereat the folks were troubled and I slipped down a-swoon. They thought I was possessed7 and one of them began reciting exorcisms in my ear; nor did they cease to comfort her and beseech her to sing, till she tuned the lute again and chaunted these couplets twain,
‘I stood and bewailed who their loads had bound
And far yode but still in my heart are found;
I drew near the ruins and asked of them
And the camp was void and lay waste the ground.’
Then she fell down in a fainting-fit and weeping arose amongst the folk; and I also cried out and fainted away. The sailors were startled by me and one of the Hashimi’s pages said to them, ‘How came ye to take this madman on board?’ So they said one to other, ‘As soon as we come to the next village, we will set him ashore and rid us of him.’ When I heard this, I was sore troubled but I heartened and hardened myself, saying in thought, ‘Nothing will serve me to deliver myself from their hands, except I make shift to acquaint her with my presence in the ship, so she may prevent my being set ashore.’ Then we sailed when we came hard by a hamlet8 and the skipper said, ‘Come, let us go ashore.’ Therewith they all landed, save myself; and as evening fell I rose and going behind the curtain took the lute and changed its accord, mode9 by mode, and tuning it after a fashion of my own,10 that she had learnt of me, returned to my place in the ship;” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. of those destined to hell; the especial home of Moslem suicides.
2 Arab. “Ummál” (plur. of ‘Ámil) viceroys or governors of provinces.
3 A town of Irák Arabi (Mesopotamia) between Baghdad and Bassorah built upon the Tigris and founded by Al–Hajjaj: it is so called because the “Middle” or half-way town between Basrah and Kufah. To this place were applied the famous lines:—
In good sooth a right noble race are they;
Whose men “yea” can’t say nor their women “nay.”
4 i.e. robed as thou art.
5 i.e. his kinsfolk of the Hashimis.
6 See vol. ii. 24. {Vol2, FN#49}
7 Arab. “Sur’itu” = I was possessed of a Jinn, the common Eastern explanation of an epileptic fit long before the days of the Evangel. See vol. iv. 89.
8 Arab. “Zí‘ah,” village, feof or farm.
9 Arab. “Taríkah.”
10 “Most of the great Arab musicians had their own peculiar fashion of tuning the lute, for the purpose of extending its register or facilitating the accompaniment of songs composed in uncommon keys and rhythms or possibly of increasing its sonority, and it appears to have been a common test of the skill of a great musician, such as Ishac el-Mausili or his father Ibrahim, to require him to accompany a difficult song on a lute purposely untuned. As a (partial) modern instance of the practice referred to in the text, may be cited Paganini’s custom of lowering or raising the G string of the violin in playing certain of his own compositions. According to the Kitab el-Aghani, Ishac el-Mausili is said to have familiarized himself, by incessant practice, with the exact sounds produced by each division of the strings of the four course lute of his day, under every imaginable circumstance of tuning.” It is regrettable that Mr. Payne does not give us more of such notes.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young man continued, “I returned to my place in the ship; and presently the whole party came on board again and the moon shone bright upon river and height. Then said the Hashimi to the damsel, ‘Allah upon thee, trouble not our joyous lives!’ So she took the lute, and touching it with her hand, gave a sob, that they thought her soul had fled her frame, and said, ‘By Allah, my master and teacher is with us in this ship!’ Answered the Hashimi, ‘By Allah, were this so, I would not forbid him our conversation! Haply he would lighten thy burthen, so we might enjoy thy singing: but his being on board is far from possible.’ However she said, ‘I cannot smite lute-string or sing sundry airs I was wont to sing whilst my lord is with us.’ Quoth the Hashimi, ‘Let us ask the sailors;’ and quoth she, ‘Do so.’ He questioned them, saying, ‘Have ye carried anyone with you!’; and they answered, ‘No.’ then I feared lest the enquiry should end there; so I laughed and said, ‘Yes; I am her master and taught her whenas I was her lord.’ Cried she, ‘By Allah, that is my lord’s voice!’ Thereupon the pages carried me to the Hashimi, who knew me at first sight and said to me, ‘Out on thee! What plight is this in which I see thee and what hath brought thee to such condition?’ I related to him all that had befallen me of my affair, weeping the while, and the damsel made loud wail from behind the curtain. The Hashimi wept with sore weeping, he and his brethren, for pity of me, and he said, ‘By Allah, I have not drawn near this damsel nor enjoyed her, nor have I even heard her sing till this day! I am a man to whom Allah hath been ample and I came to Baghdad but to hear singing and seek my allowances of the Commander of the Faithful. I accomplished both my needments and being about to return home, said to myself, ‘Let us hear some what of the singing of Baghdad.’ Wherefore I bought this damsel, knowing not that such was the case with you twain; and I take Allah to witness that, when I reach Bassorah I will free her and marry her to thee and assign you what shall suffice you, and more; but on condition that, whenever I have a mind to hear music, a curtain shall be hung for her and she shall sing to me from behind it, and thou shalt be of the number of my brethren and boon-companions.’ Hereat I rejoiced and the Hashimi put his head within the curtain and said to her, ‘Will that content thee?’; whereupon she fell to blessing and thanking him. Then he called a servant and said to him, ‘Take this young man and do off his clothes and robe him in costly raiment and incense1 him and bring him back to us.’ So the servant did with me as his master bade him and brought me back to him, and served me with wine, even as the rest of the company. Then the damsel began singing after the goodliest fashion and chanted these couplets,
‘They blamed me for causing my tears to well
When came my beloved to bid farewell:
They ne’er tasted the bitters of parting nor felt
Fire beneath my ribs that flames fierce and fell!
None but baffled lover knows aught of Love,
Whose heart is lost where he wont to dwell.’
The folk rejoiced in her song with exceeding joy and my gladness redoubled, so that I took the lute from the damsel and preluding after the most melodious fashion, sang these couplets,
‘Ask (if needs thou ask) the Compassionate,
And the generous donor of high estate.
For asking the noble honours man
And asking the churl entails bane and bate:
When abasement is not to be ’scaped by wight
Meet it asking boons of the good and great.
Of Grandee to sue ne’er shall vilify man,
But ‘tis vile on the vile of mankind to ‘wait.’
The company rejoiced in me with joy exceeding and the ceased not from pleasure and delight, whilst anon I sang and anon the damsel, till we came to one of the landing-places, where the vessel moored and all on board disembarked and I with them. Now I was drunken with wine and squatted on my hams to make water; but drowsiness overcame me and I slept, and the passengers returned to the ship which ran down stream without any missing me, for that they also were drunken, and continued their voyage until they reached Bassorah. As for me I awoke not till the heat of the sun aroused me, when I rose and looked about me, but saw no one. Now I had given my spending money to the damsel and had naught left: I had also forgotten to ask the Hashimi his name and where his house was at Bassorah and his titles; thus I was confounded and my joy at meeting the damsel had been but a dream; and I abode in perplexity till there came up a great vessel wherein I embarked and she carried me to Bassorah. Now I knew none there, much less the Hashimi’s house, so I accosted a grocer and taking of him inkcase and paper, — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 See vol. vii. 363 for the use of these fumigations.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Baghdad man who owned the maid entered Bassorah, he was perplexed for not knowing the Hashimi’s house. “So I accosted” (said he) “a grocer and, taking of him inkcase and paper, sat down to write. He admired my handwriting and seeing my dress stained and soiled, questioned me of my case, to which I replied that I was a stranger and poor. Quoth he, ‘Wilt thou abide with me and order the accounts of my shop and I will give thee thy food and clothing and half a dirham a day for ordering the accompts of my shop?’; and quoth I, ‘’Tis well,’ and abode with him and kept his accounts and ordered his income and expenditure for a month, at the end of which he found his income increased and his disbursements diminished; wherefore he thanked me and made my wage a dirham a day. When the year was out, he proposed to me to marry his daughter and become his partner in the shop. I agreed to this and went in to my wife and applied me to the shop. But I was broken in heart and spirit, and grief was manifest upon me; and the grocer used to drink and invite me thereto, but I refrained for melancholy. I abode on this wise two years till, one day, as I sat in the shop, behold, there passed by a parcel of people with meat and drink, and I asked the grocer what was the matter. Quoth he, ‘This is the day of the pleasure-makers, when all the musicians and dancers of the town go forth with the young men of fortune to the banks of the Ubullah river1 and eat and drink among the trees there.’ The spirit prompted me to solace myself with the sight of this thing and I said in my mind, ‘Haply among these people I may foregather with her I love.’ So I told the grocer that I had a mind to this and he said, ‘Up and go with them an thou please.’ He made me ready meat and drink and I went till I came to the River of Ubullah, when, behold, the folk were going away: I also was about to follow, when I espied the Rais of the bark wherein the Hashimi had been with the damsel and he was going along the river. I cried out to him and his company who knew me and took me onboard with them and said to me, ‘Art thou yet alive?’; and they embraced me and questioned me of my case. I told them my tale and they said, ‘Indeed, we thought that drunkenness had gotten the better of thee and that thou hadst fallen into the water and wast drowned.’ Then I asked them of the damsel, and they answered, ‘When she came to know of thy loss, she rent her raiment and burnt the lute and fell to buffeting herself and lamenting and when we returned with the Hashimi to Bassorah we said to her, ‘Leave this weeping and wailing.’ Quoth she, ‘I will don black and make me a tomb beside the house and abide there and repent from singing.’2 we allowed her so to do and on this wise she abideth to this day. Then they carried me to the Hashimi’s house, where I saw the damsel as they had said. When she espied me, she cried out a great cry, methought she had died, and I embraced her with a long embrace. Then said the Hashimi to me, ‘Take her;’ and I said, ‘’Tis well: but do thou free her and according to thy promise marry her to me.’ Accordingly he did this and gave us costly goods and store of raiment and furniture and five hundred dinars, saying, ‘This is the amount of that which I purpose to allow you every month, but on condition that thou be my cup-companion and that I hear the girl sing when I will.’ Furthermore, he assigned us private quarters and bade transport thither all our need; so, when I went to the house I found it filled full of furniture and stuffs and carried the damsel thither. Then I betook myself to the grocer and told him all that had betided me, begging to hold me guiltless for divorcing his daughter, without offence on her part; and I paid her her dowry3 and what else behoved me. 4 I abode with the Hashimi in this way two years and became a man of great wealth and was restored to the former estate of prosperity wherein I had been at Baghdad, I and the damsel. And indeed Allah the Bountiful put an end to our troubles and loaded us with the gifts of good fortune and caused our patience to result in the attainment of our desire: wherefore to Him be the praise in this world and the next whereto we are returning.”5 And among the tales men tell is that of
1 In the Mac. Edit. “Aylah” for Ubullah: the latter is one of the innumerable canals, leading from Bassorah to Ubullah-town a distance of twelve miles. Its banks are the favourite pleasure- resort of the townsfolk, being built over with villas and pavilions (now no more) and the orchards seem to form one great garden, all confined by one wall. See Jaubert’s translation of Al–Idrisi, vol. i. pp. 368–69. The Aylah, a tributary of the Tigris, waters (I have noted) the Gardens of Bassorah.
2 Music having been forbidden by Mohammed who believed with the vulgar that the Devil has something to do with it. Even Paganini could not escape suspicion in the nineteenth century.
3 The “Mahr,” or Arab dowry consists of two parts, one paid down on consummation and the other agreed to be paid to the wife, contingently upon her being divorced by her husband. If she divorce him this portion, which is generally less than the half, cannot be claimed by her; and I have related the Persian abomination which compels the woman to sacrifice her rights. See vol. iii. p. 304.
4 i.e. the cost of her maintenance during the four months of single blessedness which must or ought to elapse before she can legally marry again.
5 Lane translates most incompletely, “To Him, then, be praise, first and last!”
There was once in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, in the land of Hind, a mighty King, tall of presence and fair of favour and goodly of parts, noble of nature and generous, beneficent to the poor and loving to his lieges and all the people of his realm. His name was Jalí’ád and under his hand were two-and-seventy Kings and in his cities three hundred and fifty Kazis. He had three score and ten Wazirs and over every ten of them he set a premier. The chiefest of all his ministers was a man called Shimás2 who was then 3 two and twenty years old, a statesman of pleasant presence and noble nature, sweet of speech and ready in reply; shrewd in all manner of business, skilful withal and sagacious for all his tender age, a man of good counsel and fine manners versed in all arts and sciences and accomplishments; and the King loved him with exceeding love and cherished him by reason of his proficiency in eloquence and rhetoric and the art of government and for that which Allah had given him of compassion and brooding care4 with his lieges for he was a King just in his Kingship and a protector of his peoples, constant in beneficence to great and small and giving them that which befitted them of good governance and bounty and protection and security and a lightener of their loads in taxes and tithes. And indeed he was loving to them each and every, high and low, entreating them with kindness and solicitude and governing them in such goodly guise as none had done before him. But, with all this, Almighty Allah had not blessed him with a child, and this was grievous to him and to the people of his reign. It chanced, one night, as Jali’ad5 lay in his bed, occupied with anxious thought of the issue of the affair of his Kingdom, that sleep overcame him and he dreamt that he poured water upon the roots of a tree — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane omits because it is “extremely puerile” this most characteristic tale, one of the two oldest in The Nights which Al Mas’udi mentions as belonging to the Hazár Afsáneh (See Terminal Essay). Von Hammer (Preface in Trébutien’s translation p. xxv ) refers the fables to an Indian (Egyptian?) origin and remarks, “sous le rapport de leur antiquité et de la morale qu’ils renferment, elles méritent la plus grande attention, mais d’un autre côté elles ne vent rien moins qu’amusantes.”
2 Lane (iii. 579) writes the word “Shemmas”: the Bresl. Edit. (viii. 4) “Shímás.”
3 i.e. When the tale begins.
4 Arab. “Khafz al-jináh” drooping the wing as a brooding bird. In the Koran ([vii. 88) lowering the wing” = demeaning oneself gently.
5 The Bresl. Edit. (viii. 3) writes “Kil’ád”: Trébutien (iii. 1) “le roi Djilia.”
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King saw himself in his vision pouring water upon the roots of a tree, about which were many other trees; and lo and behold! there came fire out of this tree and burnt up every growth which encompassed it; whereupon Jali’ad awoke affrighted and trembling, and calling one of his pages said to him, “Go fetch the Wazir Shimas in all haste.” So he betook himself to Shimas and said to him, “The King calleth for thee forthright because he hath awoke from his sleep in fright and hath sent me to bring thee to him in haste.” When Shimas heard this, he arose without stay or delay and going to the King, found him seated on his bed. He prostrated himself before him, wishing him permanence of glory and prosperity, and said, “May Allah not cause thee grieve, O King! What hath troubled thee this night, and what is the cause of thy seeking me thus in haste?” The King bade him be seated; and, as soon as he sat down, began telling his tale and said to him, “I have dreamt this night a dream which terrified me, and ’twas, that methought I poured water upon the roots of a tree where about were many other trees and as I was thus engaged, lo and behold! fire issued therefrom and burnt up all the growths that were around it; wherefore I was affrighted and fear took me. Then I awoke and sent to bid thee to me, because of thy knowledge and skill in the interpretation of dreams and of that which I know of the vastness of thy wisdom and the greatness of thine understanding.” At this Shimas the Wazir bowed his head groundwards awhile and presently raising it, smiled; so the King said to him, “What deemest thou, O Shimas? Tell me the truth of the matter and hide naught from me.” Answered Shimas, “O King, verily Allah Almighty granteth thee thy wish and cooleth thine eyes; for the matter of this dream presageth all good, to wit, that the Lord will bless thee with a son, who shall inherit the Kingdom from thee, after thy long life. But there is somewhat else I desire not to expound at this present, seeing that the time is not favourable for interpretation.” The King rejoiced in these words with exceeding joy and great was his contentment; his trouble departed from him, his mind was at rest and he said, “If the case be thus of the happy presage of my dream, do thou complete to me its exposition when the fitting time betideth: for that which it behoveth not to expound to me now, it behoveth that thou expound to me when its time cometh, so my joy may be fulfilled, because I seek naught in this save the approof of Allah extolled and exalted be He!” Now when the Wazir Shimas saw that the King was urgent to have the rest of the exposition, he put him off with a pretext; but Jali’ad assembled all the astrologers and interpreters of dreams of his realm and as soon as they were in the presence related to them his vision, saying, “I desire you to tell me the true interpretation of this.” Whereupon one of them came forward and craved the King’s permission to speak, which being granted, he said, “Know, O King, that thy Wazir Shimas is nowise unable to interpret this thy dream; but he shrank from troubling thy repose. Wherefore he disclosed not unto thee the whole thereof; but, an thou suffer me to speak, I will expose to thee that which he concealed from thee.” The King replied, “Speak without respect for persons, O interpreter, and be truthful in thy speech.” The interpreter said, “Know then, O King, that there will be born to thee a boy child who shall inherit the Kingship from thee, after thy long life; but he shall not order himself towards the lieges after thy fashion; nay, he shall transgress thine ordinances and oppress thy subjects, and there shall befal him what befel the Mouse with the Cat1; and I seek refuge with Almighty Allah2!” The King asked, “But what is the story of the Cat and the Mouse?”; and the interpreter answered “May Allah prolong the King’s life! They tell the following tale of
1 As the sequel shows the better title would be, “The Cat and the Mouse” as in the headings of the Mac. Edit. and “What befel the Cat with the Mouse,” as a punishment for tyranny. But all three Edits. read as in the text and I have not cared to change it. In our European adaptations the mouse becomes a rat.
2 So that I may not come to grief by thus daring to foretell evil things.
A grimalkin, that is to say, a Cat, went out one night to a certain garden, in search of what she might devour, but found nothing and became weak for the excess of cold and rain that prevailed that night. So she sought for some device whereby to save herself. As she prowled about in search of prey, she espied a nest at the foot of a tree, and drawing near unto it, sniffed thereat and purred till she scented a Mouse within and went round about it, seeking to enter and seize the inmate. When the Mouse smelt the Cat, he turned his back to her and scraped up the earth with his forehand, to stop the nest-door against her; whereupon she assumed a weakly voice and said, “Why dost thou thus, O my brother? I come to seek refuge with thee, hoping that thou wilt take pity on me and harbour me in thy nest this night; for I am weak because of the greatness of my age and the loss of my strength, and can hardly move. I have ventured into thy garden tonight, how many a time have I called upon death, that I might be at rest from this pain! Behold, here am I at thy door, prostrate for cold and rain and I beseech thee, by Allah, take of thy charity my hand and bring me in with thee and give me shelter in the vestibule of thy nest; for I am a stranger and wretched and ’tis said, ‘Whoso sheltereth a stranger and a wretched one in his home, his shelter shall be Paradise on the Day of Doom.’ And thou, O my brother, it behoveth thee to earn eternal reward by succouring me and suffering me abide with thee this night till the morning, when I will wend my way.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the Cat to the Mouse, “So suffer me to night with thee this night, after which I will wend my way.” Hearing these words the Mouse replied, “How shall I suffer thee enter my nest seeing that thou art my natural foe and thy food is of my flesh? Indeed I fear lest thou false me, for that is of thy nature and there is no faith in thee, and the byword saith, ‘It befitteth not to entrust a lecher with a fair woman nor a moneyless man with money nor fire with fuel.’ Neither cloth it behove me to entrust myself to thee; and ’tis said, ‘Enmity of kind, as the enemy himself groweth weaker groweth stronger.’ “ The Cat made answer in the faintest voice, as she were in most piteous case, saying, “What thou advancest of admonitory instances is the truth and I deny not my offenses against thee; but I beseech thee to pardon that which is past of the enmity of kind between me and thee, for ’tis said, ‘Whoso forgiveth a creature like himself, his Creator will forgive him his sins.’ ’Tis true that whilome I was thy foe but here am I a suitor for thy friendship, and they say, ‘An thou wilt have thy foe become thy friend, do with him good.’ O my brother, I swear to thee by Allah and make a binding covenant with thee that I will hurt thee nevermore and for the best of reasons, to wit, that I have no power thereto; wherefore place thy trust in Allah and do good and accept my oath and covenant.” Quoth the Mouse, “How can I accept the covenant of one between whom and me there is a rooted enmity, and whose wont it is to deal treacherously by me? Were the feud between us aught but one of blood, this were light to me; but it is an enmity of kind between souls, and it is said, ‘Whoso trusteth himself to his foe is as one who thrusteth hand into a serpent’s1 mouth.’” Quoth the Cat, full of wrath, “My breast is strait and my soul is faint: indeed I am in articulo mortis and ere long I shall die at thy door and my blood will be on thy head, for that thou hadst it in thy power to save me in mine extremity: and this is my last word to thee.” Herewith the fear of Allah Almighty overcame the Mouse and ruth get hold upon his heart and he said in himself, “Whoso would have the succour of Allah the Most High against his foe, let him entreat him with compassion and kindness show. I rely upon the Almighty in this matter and will deliver this Cat from this her strait and earn the divine reward for her.” So he went forth and dragged into his nest the Cat, where she abode till she was rested and somewhat strengthened and restored, when she began to bewail her weakness and wasted strength and want of gossips. The Mouse entreated her in friendly guise and comforted her and busied himself with her service; but she crept along till she got command of the issue of the nest, lest the Mouse should escape. So when the nest-owner would have gone out after his wont, he drew near the Cat; whereupon she seized him and taking him in her claws, began to bite him and shake him and take him in her mouth and lift him up and cast him down and run after him and cranch him and torture him.2 The Mouse cried out for help, beseeching deliverance of Allah and began to upbraid the Cat, saying, “Where is the covenant thou madest with me and where are the oaths thou swarest to me? Is this my reward from thee? I brought thee into my nest and trusted myself to thee: but sooth he speaketh that saith, ‘Whoso relieth on his enemy’s promise desireth not salvation for himself.’ And again, ‘Whoso confideth himself to his foe deserveth his own destruction.’ Yet do I put my trust in my Creator, for He will deliver me from thee.” Now as he was in this condition, with the Cat about to pounce on him and devour him, behold, up came a huntsman, with hunting dogs trained to the chase. One of the hounds passed by the mouth of the nest and hearing a great scuffling, thought that within was a fox tearing somewhat; so he crept into the hole, to get at him, and coming upon the Cat, seized on her. When she found herself in the dog’s clutches, she was forced to take thought anent saving herself and loosed the Mouse alive and whole without wound. Then the hound brake her neck and dragging her forth of the hole, threw her down dead: and thus was exemplified the truth of the saying, “Who hath compassion shall at the last be compassionated. Whoso oppresseth shall presently be oppressed.” “This, then, O King,” added the interpreter, “is what befel the Mouse and the Cat and teacheth that none should break faith with those who put trust in him; for who ever cloth perfidy and treason, there shall befal him the like of that which befel the Cat. As a man meteth, so shall it be meted unto him, and he who betaketh himself to good shall gain his eternal reward. But grieve thou not, neither let this trouble thee, O King, for that assuredly thy son, after his tyranny and oppression, shall return to the goodliness of thy policy. And I would that yon learned man, thy Wazir Shimas, had concealed from thee naught in that which he expounded unto thee; and this had been well advised of him, for ’tis said, ‘Those of the folk who most abound in fear are the amplest of them in knowledge and the most emulous of good.’” The King received the interpreter’s speech with submission and gifted him and his fellows with rich gifts; then, dismissing them he arose and withdrew to his own apartments and fell to pondering the issue of his affair. When night came, he went in to one of his women, who was most in favour with him and dearest to him of them all, and lay with her: and ere some four months had passed over her, the child stirred in her womb, whereat she rejoiced with joy exceeding and told the King. Quoth he, “My dream said sooth, by Allah the Helper!”; and he lodged her in the goodliest of lodgings and entreated her with all honour, bestowing on her store of rich gifts and manifold boons. Then he sent one of his pages to fetch his Wazir Shimas and as soon as he was in the presence told the Minister what had betided, rejoicing and saying, “My dream is come true and I have won my wish. It may be this burthen will be a man child and inherit the Kingship after me; what sayest thou of this, O Shimas?” But he was silent and made no reply, whereupon cried the King, “What aileth thee that thou rejoicest not in my joy and returnest me no answer? Doth the thing mislike thee, O Shimas?” Hereat the Wazir prostrated himself before him and said, ‘ O King, may Allah prolong thy life! What availeth it to sit under the shade of a tree, if there issue fire therefrom, and what is the delight of one who drinketh pure wine, if he be choked thereby, and what cloth it profit to quench one’s thirst with sweet cool water, if one be drowned therein? I am Allah’s servant and thine, O King; but there are three things3 whereof it besitteth not the understanding to speak, till they be accomplished; to wit, the wayfarer, till he return from his way, the man who is in fight, till he have overcome his foe, and the pregnant woman, till she have cast her burthen.”—— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Af’á’” pl. Afá’í = {Greek letters}, both being derived from 0. Egypt. Hfi, a worm, snake. Af’á is applied to many species of the larger ophidia, all supposed to be venomous, and synonymous with “Sall” (a malignant viper) in Al Mutalammis. See Preston’s Al Hariri, p. 101.
2 This apparently needless cruelty of all the feline race is a strong weapon in the hand of the Eastern “Dahrí” who holds that the world is God and is governed by its own laws, in opposition to the religionists believing in a Personal Deity whom, moreover, they style the Merciful, the Compassionate, etc. Some Christians have opined that cruelty came into the world with “original Sin,” but how do they account for the hideous waste of life and the fearful destructiveness of the fishes which certainly never learned anything from man? The mystery of the cruelty of things can be explained only by a Law without a Law-giver.
3 The three things not to be praised before death in Southern Europe are a horse, a priest and a woman; and it has become a popular saying that only fools prophesy before the event.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after Shimas had enumerated to the King the three things whereof it besitteth not the understanding to speak save after they are done, he continued, “For know, O King, that he, who speaketh of aught before its accomplishment is like the Fakir who had hung over his head the jar of clarified butter.1” “What is the story of the Fakir,” asked the King, “and what happened to him?” Answered the Wazir, “O King, they tell this tale anent.
1 ‘Arab. “Sawn” =butter melted and skimmed. See vol. i. 144.
A fakir2 abode once with one of the nobles of a certain town who made him a daily allowance of three scones and a little clarified butter and honey. Now such butter was dear in those parts and the Devotee laid all that came to him together in a jar he had, till he filled it and hung it up over his head for safe keeping. One night, as he sat on his bed, staff in hand, he fell a-musing upon the butter and the greatness of its price and said in himself, “Needs must I sell all this butter I have by me and buy with the price an ewe and take to partner therein a Fellah3 fellow who hath a ram. The first year she will bear a male lamb and a female and the second a female and a male and these in their turn will bear other males and other females, nor will they give over bearing females and males, till they become a great matter. Then will I take my share and vent thereof what I will. The males I will sell and buy with them bulls and cows, which will also increase and multiply and become many; after which I will purchase such a piece of land and plant a garden therein and build thereon a mighty fine4 palace. Moreover, I will get me robes and raiment and slaves and slave girls and hold a wedding never was seen the like thereof. I will slaughter cattle and make rich meats and sweetmeats and confections and assemble all the musicians and mimes and mountebanks and player-folk and, after providing flowers and perfumes and all manner sweet herbs, I will bid rich and poor, Fakirs and Olema, captains and lords of the land, and whoso asketh for aught, I will cause it to be brought him; and I will make ready all manner of meat and drink and send out a crier to cry aloud and say, ‘Whoso seeketh aught, let him ask and get it.’ Lastly I will go in to my bride, after her unveiling and enjoy her beauty and loveliness; and I will eat and drink and make merry and say to myself, ‘Verily, hast thou won thy wish,’ and will rest from devotion and divine worship. Then in due time my wife will bear me a boy, and I shall rejoice in him and make banquets in his honour and rear him daintily and teach him philosophy and mathematics and polite letters;5 so that I shall make his name renowned among men and glory in him among the assemblies of the learned; and I will bid him do good and he shall not gainsay me, and I will forbid him from lewdness and iniquity and exhort him to piety and the practice of righteousness; and I will bestow on him rich and goodly gifts; and, if I see him obsequious in obedience, I will redouble my bounties towards him: but, an I see him incline to disobedience, I will come down on him with this staff.” So saying, he raised his hand, to beat his son withal but the staff hit the jar of butter which overhung his head, and brake it; whereupon the shards fell upon him and the butter ran down upon his head, his rags and his beard. So his clothes and bed were spoiled and he became a caution to whoso will be cautioned. “Wherefore, O King,” added the Wazir, “it behoveth not a man to speak of aught ere it come to pass.” Answered the King, “Thou sayest sooth! Fair fall thee for a Wazir! Verily the truth thou speakest and righteousness thou counsellest. Indeed, thy rank with me is such as thou couldst wish6 and thou shalt never cease to be accepted of me.” Thereupon the Wazir prostrated himself before the King and wished him permanence of prosperity, saying, “Allah prolong thy days and thy rank upraise! Know that I conceal from thee naught, nor in private nor in public aught; thy pleasure is my pleasure, and thy displeasure my displeasure. There is no joy for me save in thy joyance and I cannot sleep o’ nights an thou be angered against me, for that Allah the Most High hath vouchsafed me all good through thy bounties to me: wherefore I beseech the Almighty to guard thee with His angels, and to make fair thy reward whenas thou meetest Him.” The King rejoiced in this, whereupon Shimas arose and went out from before him. In due time the King’s wife bare a male child and the messengers hastened to bear the glad tidings and to congratulate the Sovran, who rejoiced therein with joy exceeding and thanked all with abundant thanks, saying, “Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord — who hath vouchsafed me a son, after I had despaired, for He is pitiful and ruthful to His servants.” Then he wrote to all the lieges of his land, acquainting them with the good news and bidding them to his capital; and great were the rejoicings and festivities in all the realm. Accordingly there came Emirs and Captains, Grandees and Sages, Olema and literati, scientists and philosophers from every quarter to the palace and all presenting themselves before the King, company after company, according to their different degrees, gave him joy, and he bestowed largesse upon them. Then he signed to the seven chief Wazirs, whose head was Shimas, to speak, each after the measure of his wisdom, upon the matter which concerned him the most. So the Grand Wazir Shimas began and sought leave of the King to speak, which being granted, he spake as follows.7 “Praised be Allah who brought us into existence from non-existence and who favoureth His servants with Kings that observe justice and equity in that wherewith He hath invested them of rule and dominion, and who act righteously with that which he appointeth at their hands of provision for their lieges; and most especially our Sovereign by whom He hath quickened the deadness of our land, with that which He hath conferred upon us of bounties, and hath blessed us of His protection with ease of life and tranquillity and fair dealing! What King did ever with his folk that which this King hath done with us in fulfilling our needs and giving us our dues and doing us justice, one of other, and in abundant carefulness over us and redress of our wrongs? Indeed, it is of the favour of Allah to the people that their King be assiduous in ordering their affairs and in defending them from their foes; for the end of the enemy’s intent is to subdue his enemy and hold him in his hand; and many peoples8 bring their sons as servants unto Kings, and they become with them in the stead of slaves, to the intent that they may repel ill-willers from them.9 As for us, no enemy hath trodden our soil in the days of this our King, by reason of this passing good fortune and exceeding happiness, that no describer may avail to describe, for indeed it is above and beyond all description. And verily, O King, thou art worthy of this highest happiness, and we are under thy safeguard and in the shadow of thy wings, may Allah make fair thy reward and prolong thy life!10 Indeed, we have long been diligent in supplication to Allah Almighty that He would vouchsafe an answer to our prayers and continue thee to us and grant thee a virtuous son, to be the coolth of thine eyes: and now Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) hath accepted of us and replied to our petition,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is a mere rechauffé of the Barber’s tale of his Fifth Brother (vol. i. 335). In addition to the authorities there cited I may mention the school reading-lesson in Addison’s Spectator derived from Galland’s version of “Alnaschar and his basket of Glass,” the Persian version of the Hitopadesa or “Anwár-i-Suhayli (Lights of Canopes) by Husayn Vá‘iz; the Foolish Sachali of “Indian Fairy Tales” (Miss Stokes); the allusion in Rabelais to the fate of the “Shoemaker and his pitcher of milk” and the “Dialogues of creatures moralised” (1516), whence probably La Fontaine drew his fable, “La Laitière et le Pot au lait.”
2 Arab. ‘ ‘Násik,” a religious, a man of Allah from Nask, devotion: somewhat like Sálik (Dabistan iii. 251)
3 The well-known Egyptian term for a peasant, a husbandman, extending from the Nile to beyond Mount Atlas
4 This is again, I note, the slang sense of “‘Azím,” which in classical Arabic means
5 Arab “Adab”; see vol. i. 132. It also implies mental discipline, the culture which leads to excellence, good manners and good morals; and it is sometimes synonymous with literary skill and scholarship. “Ilm al-Adab,” says Haji Khalfah (Lane’s Lex.), “ is the science whereby man guards against error in the language of the Arabs spoken or written.”
6 i.e. I esteem thee as thou deserves”.
7 The style is intended to be worthy of the statesman. In my “Mission to Dahome” the reader will find many a similar scene.
8 The Bresl. Edit. (vol. viii. 22) reads “Turks” or “The Turk” in lieu of “many peoples.”
9 i.e. the parents.
10 The humour of this euphuistic Wazirial speech, purposely made somewhat pompous, is the contrast between the unhappy Minister’s praises and the result of his prognostication. I cannot refrain from complimenting Mr. Payne upon the admirable way in which he has attacked and mastered all the difficulties of its abstruser passages.
She said: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shimas the Wazir, said to the King, “And now Almighty Allah hath accepted of us and answered our petition and brought us speedy relief, even as He did to the Fishes in the pond of water.” The King asked, “And how was that, and what is the tale?”; and Shimas answered him, “Hear, O King the story of
In a certain place there was a piece of water, wherein dwelt a number of Fishes, and it befel that the pond dwindled away and shrank and wasted, till there remained barely enough to suffice them and they were nigh upon death and said, “What will become of us? How shall we contrive and of whom shall we seek counsel for our deliverance?” Thereupon arose one of them, who was the chiefest in wit and age, and cried, “There is nothing will serve us save that we seek salvation of Allah; but let us consult the Crab and ask his advice: so come ye all1 and hie we himwards and hear his rede for indeed he is the chiefest and wisest of us all in coming upon the truth.” Each and every approved of the Fish’s advice and betook themselves in a body to the Crab, whom they found squatted in his hole, without news or knowledge of their strait. So they saluted him with the salam and said, “O our lord, cloth not our affair concern thee, who art ruler and the head of us?” The Crab returned their salutation, replying, “And on you be The Peace! What aileth you and what d’ye want?” So they told him their case and the strait wherein they were by reason of the wastage of the water, and that, when it should be dried up destruction would betide them, adding, “Wherefore we come to thee, expecting thy counsel and what may bring us deliverance for thou art the chiefest and the most experienced of us.” The Crab bowed his head awhile and said, “Doubtless ye lack understanding, in that ye despair of the mercy of Allah Almighty and His care for the provision of His creatures one and all. Know ye not that Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) provideth all His creatures without account and that He foreordained their daily meat ere He created aught of creation and appointed to each of His creatures a fixed term of life and an allotted provision, of His divine All might? How then shall we burthen ourselves with concern for a thing which in His secret purpose is indite? Wherefore it is my rede that ye can do naught better than to seek aid of Allah Almighty, and it behoveth each of us to clear his conscience with his Lord, both in public and private, and pray Him to succour us and deliver us from our difficulties; for Allah the Most High disappointeth not the expectation of those who put their trust in Him and rejecteth not the supplications of those who prefer their suit to Him. When we have mended our ways, our affairs will be set up and all will be well with us, and when the winter cometh and our land is deluged, by means of a just one’s prayer, He will not cast down the good He hath built up. So ’tis my counsel that we take patience and await what Allah shall do with us. An death come to us, as is wont, we shall be at rest, and if there befal us aught that calleth for flight, we will flee and depart our land whither Allah will.’’2 Answered all the fishes with one voice “Thou sayst sooth, O our lord: Allah requite thee for us with weal!” Then each returned to his stead, and in a few days the Almighty vouchsafed unto them a violent rain and the place of the pond was filled fuller than before. ‘On likewise, O King,” continued Shimas, “we despaired of a child being born to thee, and now that God hath blessed us and thee with this well omened son, we implore Him to render him blessed indeed and make him the coolth of thine eyes and a worthy successor to thee and grant us of him the like of that which He hath granted us of thee; for Almighty Allah disappointeth not those that seek Him and it behoveth none to cut off hope of the mercy of his God.” Then, rose the second Wazir and saluting the King with the salam spake after his greeting was returned, as follows: “Verily, a King is not called a King save he give presents and do justice and rule with equity and show munificence and wisely govern his lieges, maintaining the obligatory laws and apostolic usages established among them and justifying them, one against other, and sparing their blood and warding off hurt from them; and of his qualities should be that he never abide incurious of the poor and that he succour the highest and lowest of them and give them each the rights to them due, so that all bless him and are obedient to his commend. Without doubt, a King who is after this wise of his lieges is beloved and gaineth of this world eminence and of the next honour and favour with the Creator thereof. And we, the body politic of thy subjects, acknowledge in thee, O King, all the attributes of kingship I have noted, even as it is said, ‘The best of things is that the King of a people be just and equitable, their physician skilful and their teacher experience-full, acting according to his knowledge.’ Now we enjoy this happiness, after we had despaired of the birth of a son to thee, to inherit thy kingship; however, Allah (extolled be His name!) hath not disappointed thine expectation, but hath granted thy petition, by reason of the goodliness of thy trust in Him and thy submission of thine affairs to Him. Then fair fall thy hope! there hath betided thee that which betided the Crow and the Serpent.” Asked the King “What was that?”; and the Wazir answered, “Hear, O King, the tale of
1 ‘Arab. “Halummú” plur. of “Halumma”=draw near! The latter form is used by some tribes for all three numbers; others affect a dual and a plural (as in the text). Preston ( Al Hariri, p. 210) derives it from Heb., but the geographers of Kufah and Basrah (who were not etymologists) are divided about its origin. He translates (p. 221) “Halumma Jarran = being the rest of the tale in continuation with this, i.e. in accordance with it like our “and so forth.” And in p. 271, he makes Halumma=Hayya i.e. hither’ (to prayer, etc.).
2 This is precisely the semi-fatalistic and wholly superstitious address which would find favour with Moslems of the present day they still prefer “calling upon Hercules” to putting their shoulders to the wheel. Mr. Redhouse had done good work in his day but of late he has devoted himself, especially in the “Mesnevi,” to a rapprochement between Al–Islam and Christianity which both would reject (see supra, vol. vii. p. 135). The Calvinistic predestination as shown in the term “vessel of wrath,” is but a feeble reflection of Moslem fatalism. On this subject I shall have more to say in a future volume.
A crow once dwelt in a tree, he and his wife, in all delight of life, till they came to the time of the hatching of their young, which was the midsummer season, when a Serpent issued from its hole and crawled up the tree wriggling around the branches till it came to the Crows’ nest, where it coiled itself up and there abode all the days of the summer, whilst the Crow was driven away and found no opportunity to clear his home nor any place wherein to lie. When the days of heat were past, the Serpent went away to its own place and quoth the Crow to his wife, “Let us thank Almighty Allah, who hath preserved us and delivered us from this Serpent, albeit we are forbidden from increase this year. Yet the Lord will not cut off our hope; so let us express our gratitude to Him for having vouchsafed us safety and soundness of body: indeed, we have none other in whom to confide, and if He will and we live to see the next year, He shall give us other young in the stead of those we have missed this year.” Next summer when the hatching-season came round, the Serpent again sallied forth from its place and made for the Crows’ nest; but, as it was coiling up a branch, a kite swooped down on it and struck claws into its head and tare it, whereupon it fell to the ground a-swoon, and the ants came out upon it and ate it.1 So the Crow and his wife abode in peace and quiet and bred a numerous brood and thanked Allah for their safety and for the young that were born to them. “In like manner, O King,” continued the Wazir, “it behoveth us to thank God for that wherewith He hath favoured thee and us in vouchsafing us this blessed child of good omen, after despair and the cutting off of hope. May He make fair thy future reward and the issue of thine affair!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The inhabitants of temperate climates have no idea what ants can do in the tropics. The Kafirs of South Africa used to stake down their prisoners (among them a poor friend of mine) upon an ant-hill and they were eaten atom after atom in a few hours. The death must be the slowest form of torture; but probably the nervous system soon becomes insensible. The same has happened to more than one hapless invalid, helplessly bedridden, in Western Africa. I have described an invasion of ants in my “Zanzibar,” vol. ii. 169; and have suffered from such attacks in many places between that and Dahomey.
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the second Wazir had ended with the words, “Allah make fair thy future reward and the issue of thine affair!”, the third Wazir, presently rose and said, “Rejoice, O just King, in the assurance of present prosperity and future felicity; for him, whom the denizens of Earth love, the denizens of Heaven likewise love, and indeed Almighty Allah hath made affection to be thy portion and hath stablished it in the hearts of the people of thy kingdom; wherefore to Him be thanks and praise from us and from thee, so He may deign increase His bounty unto thee and unto us in thee! For know, O King, that man can originate naught but by command of Allah the Most High and that He is the Giver and all good which befalleth a creature hath its end and issue in Him. He allotteth His favours to His creatures, as it liketh Him; to some he giveth gifts galore while others He doometh barely to win their daily bread. Some He maketh Lords and Captains, and others Recluses, who abstain from the world and aspire but to Him, for He it is who saith, ‘I am the Harmer with adversity and the Healer with prosperity. I make whole and make sick. I enrich and impoverish. I kill and quicken; in my hand is everything and unto Me all things do tend.’ Wherefore it behoveth all men to praise Him. Now, especially thou, O King, art of the fortunate, the pious, of whom it is said, ‘The happiest of the just is he for whom Allah uniteth the weal of this world and of the next world; who is content with that portion which Allah allotteth to him and who giveth Him thanks for that which He hath stablished.’ And indeed he that is rebellious and seeketh other than the dole which God hath decreed unto him and for him, favoureth the wild Ass and the Jackal.’’1 The King asked, “And what is the story of the twain?”; the Wazir answered, “Hear, O King, the tale of
1 Arab. “Sa’lab.” See vol. iii 132, where it is a fox. I render it jackal because that cousin of the fox figures as a carnon-eater in Hindu folk-lore, the Hitopadesa, Panchopakhyan, etc. This tale, I need hardly say, is a mere translation; as is shown by the Kathá s.s. “Both jackal and fox are nicknamed Joseph the Scribe (Tálib Yúsuf) in the same principle that lawyers are called landsharks by sailors.” (P. 65, Moorish Lotus Leaves, etc., by George D. Cowan and R. L. N. Johnston, London, Tinsleys, 1883.)
A certain Jackal was wont every day to leave his lair and fare forth questing his daily bread. Now one day, as he was in a certain mountain, behold, the day was done and he set out to return when he fell in with another Jackal who saw him on the tramp, and each began to tell his mate of the quarry he had gotten. Quoth one of them, “The other day I came upon a wild Ass and I was an hungered, for it was three days since I had eaten; so I rejoiced in this and thanked Almighty Allah for bringing him into my power. Then I tare out his heart and ate it and was full and returned to my home. That was three days ago, since which time I have found nothing to eat, yet am I still full of meat.” When the other Jackal heard his fellow’s story, he envied his fulness and said in himself, “There is no help but that I eat the heart of a wild Ass.” So he left feeding for some days, till he became emaciated and nigh upon death and bestirred not himself neither did he endeavour to get food, but lay coiled up in his earth. And whilst he was thus, behold, one day there came out two hunters trudging in quest of quarry and started a wild Ass. They followed on his trail tracking him all day, till at last one of them shot at him a forked1 arrow, which pierced his vitals and reached his heart and killed him in front of the Jackal’s hole. Then the hunters came up and finding him dead, pulled out the shaft from his heart, but only the wood came away and the forked head abode in the Ass’s belly. So they left him where he lay, expecting that others of the wild beasts would flock to him; but, when it was eventide and nothing fell to them, they returned to their abiding places. The Jackal, hearing the commotion at the mouth of his home, lay quiet till nightfall, when he came forth of his lair, groaning for weakness and hunger, and seeing the dead Ass lying at his door, rejoiced with joy exceeding till he was like to fly for delight and said, “Praised be Allah who hath won me my wish without toil! Verily, I had lost hope of coming at a wild Ass or aught else; and assuredly2 the Almighty hath sent him to me and crave him fall to my homestead.” Then he sprang on the body and tearing open its belly, thrust in his head and with his nose rummaged about its entrails, till he found the heart and tearing a tidbit swallowed it: but, as soon as he had so done, the forked head of the arrow struck deep in his gullet and he could neither get it down into his belly nor bring it forth of his throttle. So he made sure of destruction and said, “Of a truth it beseemeth not the creature to seek for himself aught over and above that which Allah hath allotted to him. Had I been content with what He appointed to me, I had not come to destruction.” “Wherefore, O King,” added the Wazir, “it becometh man to be content with whatso Allah hath distributed to him and thank Him for His bounties to him and cast not off hope of his Lord. And behold, O King, because of the purity of thy purpose and the fair intent of thy good works, Allah hath blessed thee with a son, after despair, wherefore we pray the Almighty to vouchsafe him length of days and abiding happiness and make him a blessed successor, faithful in the observance of thy covenant, after thy long life.” Then arose the fourth Wazir, and said, “Verily, an the King be a man of understanding, a frequenter of the gates of wisdom,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the fourth Wazir, arose and said, “Verily an the King be a man of understanding, a frequenter of the gates of wisdom, versed in science, government and policy, and eke upright in purpose and just to his subjects, honouring those to whom honour is due, revering those who are digne of reverence, tempering puissance with using clemency whenas it behoveth, and protecting both governors and governed, lightening all burthens for them and bestowing largesse on them, sparing their blood and covering their shame and keeping his troth with them. Such a King, I say, is worthy of felicity both present and future, worldly and other-worldly, and this is of that which protecteth him from ill-will and helpeth him to the stablishing of his Kingdom and the victory over his enemies and the winning of his wish, together with increase of Allah’s bounty to him and His favouring him for his praise of Him and the attainment of His protection. But an the King be the contrary of this, he never ceaseth from misfortunes and calamities, he and the people of his realm, for that his oppression embraceth both stranger far and kinsman near and there cometh to pass with him that which befel the unjust King with the pilgrim Prince.” King Jali’ad asked, “And how was that?” and the Wazir answered, “Hear, O King, the tale of
There was once in Mauritania-land1 a King who exceeded in his rule, a tyrant, violent and over severe, who had no respect for the welfare or protection of his lieges nor of those who entered his realm; and from everyone who came within his Kingdom his officers took four-fifths of his monies, leaving him one-fifth and no more. Now Allah Almighty decreed that he should have a son, who was fortunate and God-favoured and seeing the pomps and vanities of this world to be transient as they are unrighteous, renounced them in his youth and rejected the world and that which is therein and fared forth serving the Most High, wandering pilgrim-wise over words and wastes and bytimes entering towns and cities. One day, he came to his father’s capital and the guards laid hands on him and searched him but found naught upon him save two gowns, one new and the other old.2 So they stripped the new one from him and left him the old, after they had entreated him with contumely and contempt; whereat he complained and said, “Woe to you, O ye oppressors! I am a poor man and a pilgrim,3 and what shall this gown by any means profit you? Except ye restore it to me, I will go to the King and make complaint to him of you.” They replied, “We act thus by the King’s command: so do what seemeth good to thee.” Accordingly he betook himself to the King’s palace and would have entered, but the chamberlains denied him admittance, and he turned away, saying in himself, “There is nothing for me except to watch till he cometh out and complain to him of my case and that which hath befallen me.” And whilst he waited, behold, he heard one of the guards announce the King’s faring forth; whereupon he crept up, little by little, till he stood before the gate; and presently when the King came out, he threw himself in his way and after blessing him and wishing him weal, he made his complaint to him informing him how scurvily he had been entreated by the gatekeepers. Lastly he gave him to know that he was a man of the people of Allah4 who had rejected the world seeking acceptance of Allah and who went wandering over earth and entering every city and hamlet, whilst all the folk he met gave him alms according to their competence. “I entered this thy city” (continued he), “hoping that the folk would deal kindly and graciously with me as with others of my condition,5 but thy followers stopped me and stripped me of one of my gowns and loaded me with blows. Wherefore do thou look into my case and take me by the hand and get me back my gown and I will not abide in thy city an hour.” Quoth the unjust King, “Who directed thee to enter this city, unknowing the custom of its King?”; and quoth the pilgrim, “Give me back my gown and do with me what thou wilt.” Now when the King heard this, his temper changed for the worse and he said, “O fool,6 we stripped thee of thy gown, so thou mightest humble thyself to us, but since thou makest this clamour I will strip thy soul from thee.” Then he commanded to cast him into gaol, where he began to repent of having answered the King and reproached himself for not having left him the gown and saved his life. When it was the middle of the night, he rose to his feet and prayed long and prayerfully, saying, “O Allah, Thou art the Righteous Judge. Thou knowest my case and that which hath befallen me with this tyrannical King, and I, Thine oppressed servant, beseech Thee, of the abundance of Thy mercy, to deliver me from the hand of this unjust ruler and send down on him Thy vengeance; for Thou art not unmindful of the upright of every oppressor. Wherefore, if Thou know that he hath wronged me, loose on him Thy vengeance this night and send down on him Thy punishment; for Thy rule is just and Thou art the Helper of every mourner, O Thou to whom belong the power and the glory to the end of time!” When the gaoler heard the prayer of the poor prisoner he trembled in every limb, and behold, a fire suddenly broke out in the King’s palace and consumed it and all that were therein, even to the door of the prison,7 and none was spared but the gaoler and the pilgrim. Now when the gaoler saw this, he knew that it had not befallen save because of the pilgrim’s prayer; so he loosed him and fleeing with him forth of the burning, betook himself, he and the King’s son, to another city. So was the unjust King consumed, he and all his city, by reason of his injustice, and he lost the goods both of this world and the next world. “As for us, O auspicious King” continued the Wazir, “we neither lie down nor rise up without praying for thee and thanking Allah the Most High for His grace in giving thee to us, tranquil in reliance on thy justice and the excellence of thy governance; and sore indeed was our care for thy lack of a son to inherit thy kingdom, fearing lest after thee there betide us a King unlike thee. But now the Almighty hath bestowed His favours upon us and done away our concern and brought us gladness in the birth of this blessed child; wherefore we beseech the Lord to make him a worthy successor to thee and endow him with glory and felicity enduring and good abiding.” Then rose the fifth Wazir and said, “Blessed be the Most High,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Maghrib” (or in full Maghrib al Aksá) lit. =the Land of the setting sun for whose relation to “Mauritania” see vol. vii. 220. It is almost synonymous with “Al–Gharb”=the West whence Portugal borrowed the two Algarves, one being in Southern Europe and the other over the straits about Tangier Ceuta; fronting Spanish Trafalgar, i.e. Taraf al Gharb, the edge of the West. I have noted (Pilgrimage i. 9) the late Captain Peel’s mis-translation “Cape of Laurels” (Al–Ghár).
2 Even the poorest of Moslem wanderers tries to bear with him a new suit of clothes for keeping the two festivals and Friday service in the Mosque. See Pilgrimage i. 235; iii. 257, etc.
3 Arab. “Sáyih” lit. a wanderer, subaudi for religious and ascetic objects; and not to be confounded with the “pilgrim” proper.
4 i.e. a Religious, a wandering beggar.
5 This was the custom of the whole Moslem world and still is where uncorrupted by Christian uncharity and contempt for all “men of God” save its own. But the change in such places as Egypt is complete and irrevocable. Even in 1852 my Dervish’s frock brought me nothing but contempt in Alexandria and Cairo.
6 Arab. “Ya jáhil,” lit. =O ignorant. The popular word is Ahmak which, however, in the West means a maniac, a madman, a Santon; “Bohlí” being= a fool.
7 The prison according to the practice of the East being in the palace: so the Moorish ‘Kasbah,” which lodges the Governor and his guard, always contains the jail.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the fifth Wazir said, “Blessed be the Most High, Giver of all good gifts and graces the most precious! But to continue: we are well assured that Allah favoureth whoso are thankful to Him and mindful of His faith; and thou, O auspicious King, art far-famed for these illustrious virtues and for justice and equitable dealing between subject and subject and in that which is acceptable to Allah Almighty. By reason of this hath the Lord exalted thy dignity and prospered thy days and bestowed on thee the good gift of this august child, after despair, wherefrom there hath betided us gladness abiding and joys which may not be cut off; for we before this were in exceeding cark and passing care, because of thy lack of issue, and full of concern bethinking us of all thy justice and gentle dealing with us and fearful lest Allah decree death to thee and there be none to succeed thee and inherit the kingdom after thee, and so we be divided in our counsels and dissensigns arise between us and there befal us what befel the Crows.” Asked the King, “And what befel the Crows?”; and the Wazir answered saying, “Hear, O auspicious King, the tale of
There was once, in a certain desert, a spacious Wady, full of rills and trees and fruits and birds singing the praises of Allah the One of All might, Creator of day and night; and among them was a troop of Crows, which led the happiest of lives. Now they were under the sway and government of a Crow who ruled them with mildness and benignity, so that they were with him in peace and contentment; and by reason of their wisely ordering their affairs, none of the other birds could avail against them. Presently it chanced that there befel their chief the doom irrevocably appointed to all creatures and he departed life;1 whereupon the others mourned for him with sore mourning, and what added to their grief was that there abided not amongst them like him one who should fill his place. So they all assembled and took counsel together concerning whom it befitted for his goodness and piety to set over them; and a party of them chose one Crow, saying, “It beseemeth that this be King over us,” whilst others objected to him and would none of him; and thus there arose division and dissension amidst them and the strife of excitement waxed hot between them. At last they agreed amongst themselves and consented to sleep the night upon it and that none should go forth at dawn next day to seek his living, but that all must wait till high morning, when they should gather together all in one place. “Then,” said they, “we will all take flight at once and whichsoever shall soar above the rest in his flying, he shall be accepted of us as ruler and be made King over us.” The fancy pleased them; so they made covenant together and did as they had agreed and took flight all, but each of them deemed himself higher than his fellow; wherefore quoth this one, “I am highest,” and that, “Nay, that am I.” Then said the lowest of them, “Look up, all of you, and whomsoever ye find the highest of you, let him be your chief.” So they raised their eyes and seeing the Hawk soaring over them, said each to other, “We agreed that which bird soever should be the highest of us we will make king over us, and behold, the Hawk is the highest of us; what say ye to him?” And they all cried out, “We accept of him.” Accordingly they summoned the Hawk and said to him, “O Father of Good,2 we have chosen thee ruler over us, that thou mayst look into our affair.” The Hawk consented, saying, “Inshallah, ye shall win of me abounding weal.” So they rejoiced and made him their King. But after awhile, he fell to taking a company of them every day and betaking himself with them afar off to one of the caves, where he struck them down and eating their eyes and brains, threw their bodies into the river. And he ceased not doing on this wise, it being his intent to destroy them all till, seeing their number daily diminishing, the Crows flocked to him and said, “O our King, we complain to thee because from the date we made thee Sovran and ruler over us, we are in the sorriest case and every day a company of us is missing and we know not the reason of this, more by token that the most part thereof are the high in rank and of those in attendance on thee. We must now look after our own safety.” Thereupon the Hawk waxed wroth with them and said to them, “Verily, ye are the murtherers, and ye forestall me with accusation!” So saying, he pounced upon them and tearing to pieces half a score of their chiefs in front of the rest, threatened them and crave them out, sorely cuffed and beaten, from before him. Hereat they repented them of that which they had done and said, “We have known no good since the death of our first King especially in the deed of this stranger in kind; but we deserve our sufferings even had he destroyed us one by one to the last of us, and there is exemplified in us the saying of him that saith, ‘Whoso submitteth him not to the rule of his own folk, the foe hath dominion over him, of his folly.’ And now there is nothing for it but to flee for our lives, else shall we perish.” So they took flight and dispersed to various places. “And we also, O King,” continued the Wazir, “feared lest the like of this befal us and there become ruler over us a King other than thyself; but Allah hath vouchsafed us this boon and hath sent us this blessed child, and now we are assured of peace and union and security and prosperity in our Mother-land. So lauded be Almighty Allah and to Him be praise and thanks and goodly gratitude! And may He bless the King and us all his subjects and vouchsafe unto us and him the acme of felicity and make his life-tide happy and his endeavour constant!” Then arose the sixth Wazir and said, “Allah favour thee with all fell city, O King, in this world and in the next world! Verily, the ancients have left us this saying, ‘Whoso prayeth and fasteth and giveth parents their due and is just in his rule meeteth his Lord and He is well pleased with him.’ Thou hast been set over us and hast ruled us justly and thine every step in this hath been blessed; wherefore we beseech Allah Almighty to make great thy reward eternal and requite thee thy beneficence. I have heard what this wise man hath said respecting our fear for the loss of our prosperity, by reason of the death of the King or the advent of another who should not be his parallel, and how after him dissensions would be rife among us and calamity betide from our division and how it behoved us therefore to be instant in prayer to Allah the Most High, so haply He might vouchsafe the King a happy son to inherit the kingship after him. But, after all, the issue of that which man desireth of mundane goods and wherefor he lusteth is unknown to him and consequently it behoveth a mortal to ask not of his Lord a thing whose end he wotteth not; for that haply the hurt of that thing is nearer to him than its gain and his destruction may be in that he seeketh and there may befal him what befel the Serpent charmer, his wife and children and the folk of his house.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Tuwuffiya,” lit.=was received (into the grace of God), an euphemistic and more polite term than “máta”=he died. The latter term is avoided by the Founder of Chnstianity; and our Spiritualists now say “passed away to a higher life,” a phrase embodying a theory which, to say the least, is “not proven ”
2 Arab. “Yá Abá al-Khayr”= our my good lord, sir, fellow, etc.
She said: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the sixth Wazir said, “It behoveth not a man to ask of his Lord aught whereof he ignoreth the issue for that haply the hurt of that thing may be nearer than its gain, his destruction may be in that he seeketh and there may befal him what befel the Serpent charmer, his children, his wife and his household,” the King asked, “What was that?”; and the Wazir answered, “Hear, O King the tale of
There was once a man, a Serpent-charmer,1 who used to train serpents, and this was his trade; and he had a great basket,2 wherein were three snakes, but the people of his house knew this not. Every day he used to go round with this pannier about the town gaining his living and that of his family by showing the snakes, and at eventide he returned to his house and clapped them back into the basket privily. This lasted a long while, but it chanced one day, when he came home, as was his wont, his wife asked him, saying, “What is in this pannier?” And he replied, “What wouldest thou with it? Is not provision plentiful with you? Be thou content with that which Allah hath allotted to thee and ask not of aught else.” With this the woman held her peace; but she said in herself, “There is no help but that I search this basket and know what is there.” So she egged on her children and enjoined them to ask him of the pannier and importune him with their questions, till he should tell them what was therein. They presently concluded that it contained something to eat and sought every day of their father that he should show them what was therein; and he still put them off with pleasant presences and forbade them from asking this. On such wise they abode awhile, the wife and mother still persisting in her quest till they agreed with her that they would neither eat meat nor drain drink with their father, till he granted them their prayer and opened the basket to them. One night, behold, the Serpent-charmer came home with great plenty of meat and drink and took his seat calling them to eat with him, but they refused his company and showed him anger. Whereupon he began to coax them with fair words, saying, “Lookye, tell me what you would have, that I may bring it you, be it meat or drink or raiment.” Answered they, “O our father, we want nothing of thee but that thou open this pannier that we may see what is therein, else we will slay ourselves.” He rejoined, “O my children, there is nothing good for you therein and indeed the opening of it will be harmful to you.” Hereat they redoubled in rage for all he could say, which when he saw, he began to scold them and threaten them with beating, except they returned from such condition; but they only increased in anger and persistence in asking, till at last he waxed wroth and took a staff to beat them, and they fled from before him within the house. Now the basket was present and the Serpent-charmer had not hidden it anywhere, so his wife left him occupied with the children and opened the pannier in haste, that she might see what was therein. Thereupon behold, the serpents came out and first struck their fangs into her and killed her; then they tried round about the house and slew all, great and small, who were therein, except the Serpent-charmer, who left the place and went his way. “If then, O auspicious King,” continued the Wazir, “thou consider this, thou wilt be convinced that it is not for a man to desire aught save that which God the Great refuseth not to him; nay, he should be content with what He willeth. And thou, O King, for the overflowing of thy wisdom and the excellence of thine understanding, Allah hath cooled thine eyes with the advent of this thy son, after despair, and hath comforted thy heart; wherefore we pray the Almighty to make him of the just successors acceptable to Himself and to his subjects.” Then rose the seventh Wazir and said, “O King, I know and certify all that my brethren, these Ministers wise and learned, have said in the presence, praising thy justice and the goodness of thy policy and proving how thou art distinguished in this from all Kings other than thyself; wherefore they gave thee the preference over them. Indeed, this be of that which is incumbent on us, O King, and I say, ‘Praised be Allah!’ in that He hath guerdoned thee with His gifts and vouchsafed thee of His mercy, the welfare of the realm; and hath succoured thee and ourselves, on condition that we increase in gratitude to Him; and all this no otherwise than by thine existence! What while thou remainest amongst us, we fear not oppression neither dread upright, nor can any take long-handed advantage of our weakness! and indeed it is said, ‘The greatest good of a people is a just King and their greatest ill an unjust King’; and again, ‘Better dwell with rending lions than with a tyrannous Sultan.’ So praised be Almighty Allah with eternal praise for that He hath blessed us with thy life and vouchsafed thee this blessed child, whenas thou wast stricken in years and hadst despaired of issue! For the goodliest of the gifts in this world is a virtuous sire, and it is said, ‘Whoso hath no progeny his life is without result and he leaveth no memory.’ As for thee, because of the righteousness of thy justice and thy pious reliance on Allah the Most High, thou hast been vouchsafed this happy son; yea, this blessed3 child cometh as a gift from the Most High Lord to us and to thee, for the excellence of thy governance and the goodliness of thy long-sufferance; and in this thou hast fared even as fared the Spider and the Wind.” Asked the King, “And what is the story of the Spider and the Wind?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Háwi” from “Hayyah,” a serpent. See vol. iii. 145. Most of the Egyptian snake charmers are Gypsies, but they do not like to be told of their origin. At Baroda in Guzerat I took lessons in snake-catching, but found the sport too dangerous; when the animal flees, the tail is caught by the left hand and the right is slipped up to the neck, a delicate process, as a few inches too far or not far enough would be followed by certain death in catching a Cobra. At last certain of my messmates killed one of the captives and the snake-charmer would have no more to do with me.
2 Arab. “Sallah,” also Pers., a basket of wickerwork. This article is everywhere used for lodging snakes from Egypt to Morocco.
3 Arab. “Mubarak.” It is a favourite name for a slave in Morocco, the slave-girl being called Mubárakah; and the proverb being, “Blessed is the household which hath neither M’bárk nor M’bárkah” (as they contract the words).
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King asked, “And what is the story of the twain?”, the Wazir answered, “Give ear, O King, to the tale of
A Spider once attached herself to a high gate1 and retired and span her web there and dwelt therein in peace, giving thanks to the Almighty, who had made this dwelling-place easy to her and had set her in safety from noxious reptiles. On this wise she abode a long while, still giving thanks to Allah for her ease and regular supply of daily bread, till her Creator bethought Him to try her and make essay of her gratitude and patience. So he sent upon her a strong east Wind, which carried her away, web and all, and cast her into the main. The waves washed her ashore, and she thanked the Lord for safety and began to upbraid the Wind, saying, “O Wind, why hast thou dealt thus with me and what good hast thou gotten by bearing me hither from my abiding-place, where indeed I was in safety, secure in my home on the top of that gate?” Replied the Wind, saying, “O Spider, hast thou not learnt that this world is a house of calamities; and, say me, who can boast of lasting happiness that such portion shall be thine? Wottest thou not that Allah tempteth His creatures in order to learn by trial what may be their powers of patience? How, then, cloth it beset thee to upbraid me, thou who hast been saved by me from the vasty deep?” “Thy words are true, O Wind,” replied the Spider, “yet not the less do I desire to escape from this stranger land into which thy violence hath cast me.” The Wind rejoined, “Cease thy blaming, for right soon I will bear thee back and replace thee in thy place, as thou wast aforetime.” So the Spider waited patiently till the north-east Wind left blowing, and there arose a south-west Wind, which gently caught her up and flew with her towards her dwelling-place; and when she came to her abode, she knew it and clung to it. “And we,” continued the Wazir, “beseech Allah (who hath rewarded the King for his singleness of heart and patience and hath taken pity on his subjects and blessed them with His favour and hath vouchsafed the King this son in his old age, after he had despaired of issue and removed him not from the world, till He had blessed him with coolth of eyes and bestowed on him what He hath bestowed of Kingship and Empire!) to vouchsafe unto thy son that which He hath vouchsafed unto thee of dominion and Sultanship and glory! Amen.” Then said the King, “Praised be Allah over all praise and thanks be to Him over all thanks! There is no god but He, the Creator of all things, by the light of whose signs we know the glory of His greatness and who giveth kingship and command over his own country to whom He willeth of His servants! He chooseth of them whomso He please to make him His viceroy and viceregent over His creatures and commandeth him to just and equitable dealing with them and the maintenance of religious laws and practices and right conduct and constancy in ordering their affairs to that which is most acceptable to Him and most grateful to them. Whoso cloth thus and obeyeth the commandment of his Lord, his desire attaineth and the orders of his God maintaineth; so Providence preserveth him from the perils of the present world and maketh ample his recompense in the future world; for indeed He neglecteth not the reward of the righteous. And whoso cloth otherwise than as Allah biddeth him sinneth mortal sin and disobeyeth his Lord, preferring his mundane to his supra-mundane weal. He hath no trace in this world and in the next no portion, for Allah spareth not the unjust and the mischievous, nor cloth He neglect any of His servants. These our Wazirs have set forth how, by reason of our just dealing with them and our wise governance of affairs, Allah hath vouchsafed us and them His grace, for which it behoveth us to thank Him, because of the great abundance of His mercies; each of them hath also spoken that wherewith the Almighty inspired Him concerning this matter, and they have vied one with another in rendering thanks to the Most High Lord and praising Him for His favours and bounties. I also render thanks to Allah for that I am but a slave commanded; my heart is in His hand and my tongue in His subjection, accepting that which He adjudgeth to me and to them, come what may thereof. Each one of them hath said what passed through his mind on the subject of this boy and hath set froth that which was of the renewal of divine favour to us, after my rears had reached the term when confidence faileth and despair assaileth. So praised be Allah who hath saved us from disappointment and from the alternation of rulers, like to the alternation of night and day! For verily, this was a great boon both to them and to us; wherefore we praise Almighty Allah who hath given a ready answer to our prayer and hath blessed us with this boy and set him in high place, as the inheritor of the kingship. And we entreat him, of His bounty and clemency, to make him happy in his actions, prone to pious works, so he may become a King and a Sultah governing his people with justice and equity, guarding them from perilous error and frowardness, of His grace, goodness and generosity!” When the King had made an end of his speech, the sages and Olema rose and prostrated themselves before Allah and thanked the King; after which they kissed his hands and departed, each to his own house, whilst Jali’ad withdrew into his prayers for him and named him Wird Khán.2 The boy grew up till he attained the age of twelve,3 when the King being minded to have him taught the arts and sciences, bade build him a palace amiddlemost the city, wherein were three hundred and threescore rooms,4 and lodged him therin. Then he assigned him three wise men of the Olema and bade them not be lax in teaching him day and night and look that there was no kind of learning but they instruct him hterin, so he might become versed in all knowledge. He also commanded them to sit with him one day in each of the rooms by turn and write on the door thereof that which they had taught him therein of various kinds of lore and report to himself, every seven days, whatso instructions they had imparted to him. So they went in to the Prince and stinted not from educating him day nor night, nor withheld from him aught of that they knew; and presently there appeared in him readiness to receive instruction such as none had shown before him. Every seventh day his governors reported to the King what his son had learnt and mastered, whereby Jali’ad became proficient in goodly learning and fair culture, and the Olema said to him, “Never saw we one so richly gifted with understanding as is this boy Allah bless thee in him and give thee joy of his life!” When the Prince had completed his twelfth year, he knew the better part of every science and excelled all the Olema and sages of his day; wherefore his governors brought him to his sire and said to him “Allah gladden thine eyes, O King, with this auspicious youth! We bring him to thee after he hath learnt all manner knowledge; and there is not one of the learned men of the time nor a scientist who hath attained to that whereto he hath attained of science.” The King rejoiced in this with joy exceeding and, thanking the Almighty, prostrated himself in gratitude before Allah (to whom belong Majesty and Might!), saying, “Laud be to the Lord for His mercies incalculable!” Then he called his Chief Wazir and said to him, “Know, O Shimas, that the governors of my son are come to tell me that he hath mastered every kind of knowledge and there is nothing but they have instructed him therein, so that he surpasseth in this all who forewent him. What sayst thou, O Shimas?” Hereat the Minister prostrated himself before Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) and kissed the King’s hand, saying, “Loath is the ruby stone, albeit be bedded in the hardest rock on hill, to do aught but shine as a lamp, and this thy son is such a gem. His tender age hath not hindered him from becoming a sage and Alhamdolillah — praised be Allah — for that which He deigned bestow on him! But to-morrow I will call an assembly of the flower of the Emirs and men of learning and examine the Prince and cause him speak forth that which is with him in their presence, Inshallah!” — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The Bresl. Edit. (viii. 48) instead of the Gate (Báb) gives a Bádhanj=a Ventilator; for which latter rendering see vol. i. 257. The spider’s web is Koranic (lxxxi. 40) “Verily frailest of all houses is the house of the spider.”
2 Prob. from the Persian Wird=a pupil, a disciple.
3 And yet, as the next page shows the youth’s education was complete in his twelfth year. But as all three texts agree, I do not venture upon changing the number to six or seven, the age at which royal education outside the Harem usually begins.
4 i.e. One for each day in the Moslem year. For these object-lessons, somewhat in Kinder-garten style, see the Book of Sindibad or The Malice of Women (vol. vi. 126).
She pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King Jali’ad heard the words of his Wazir, Shimas, he commended the attendance of the keenest-witted1 of the Olema and most accomplished of the learned and sages of his dominions, and they all presented themselves on the morrow at the door of the palace, whereupon the King bade admit them. Then entered Shimas and kissed the hands of the Prince, who rose and prostrated himself to the Minister. But Shimas said, “It behoveth not the lion-whelp to prostrate himself to any of the wild beasts, nor besitteth it that Light prostrate itself to shade.” Quoth the Prince, “Whenas the lion-whelp seeth the leopard,2 he riseth up to him and prostrateth himself before him because of his wisdom, and Light prostrateth itself to shade for the purpose of disclosing that which is therewithin.” Quoth Shimas, “True, O my lord, but I would have thee answer me anent whatso I shall ask thee, by leave of His Highness and his lieges.” And the youth said, “And I, with permission of my sire, will answer thee.” So Shimas began and said, “Tell me what is the Eternal, the Absolute, and what are the two manifestations thereof and whether of the two is the abiding one?” Answered the Prince, “Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) is the Eternal, the Absolute; for that He is Alpha, without beginning, and Omega, without end. Now his two manifestations3 are this world and the next, and the abiding one of the two is the world to come.” Q “Thou sayst truly and I approve thy reply; but I would have thee tell me, how knowest thou that one of Allah’s manifestations is this world and the other the world to come?”—“I know this because this world was created from nothingness and had not its being from any existing thing; wherefore its affair is referable to the first essence. Moreover, it is a commodity swift of ceasing, the works whereof call for requital of action and this postulateth the reproduction4 of whatso passeth away; so the next world is the second manifestation.” Q “Now inform me how knowest thou that the world to come is the abiding one of the two existences?”— “Because it is the house of requital for deeds done in this world prepared by the Eternal sans surcease.” Q “Who are the people of this world most to be praised for their practice?”—“Those who prefer their weal in the world to come before their weal in this world.” Q “And who is he that preferreth his future to his present welfare?”—“He who knoweth that he dwelleth in a perishing house, that he was created but to vade away and that, after vading away, he will be called to account and indeed, were there in this world one living and abiding for ever, he would not prefer it to the next world.” Q “Can the future life subsist permanently without the present?”—“He who hath no present life hath no future life; and indeed I liken this world and its folk and the goal to which they fare with certain workmen, for whom an Emir buildeth a narrow house and lodgeth them therein, commanding each of them to do a certain task and assigning to him a set term and appointing one to act as steward over them. Whoso doeth the work appointed unto him, the steward bringeth him forth of that straitness; but whoso doeth it not within the stablished term is punished. After awhile, behold, they find honey exuding from the chinks of the house,5 and when they have eaten thereof and tasted its sweetness of savour, they slacken in their ordered task and cast it behind their backs. So they patiently suffer the straitness and distress wherein they are, with what they know of the future punishment whereto they are fast wending, and are content with this worthless and easily won sweetness; and the Steward leaveth not to fetch every one of them forth of the house, for ill or good, when his appointed period shall have come. Now we know the world to be a dwelling wherein all eyes are dazed, and that each of its folk hath his set term; and he who findeth the little sweetness that is in the world and busieth himself therewith is of the number of the lost, since he preferreth the things of this world to the things of the next world; but whoso payeth no heed to this poor sweetness and preferreth the things of the coming world to those of this world, is of those who are saved.” Q “I have heard what thou sayest of this world and the next and I accept thine answer; but I see they are as two placed in authority over man; needs must he content them both, and they are contrary one to other. So, if the creature set himself to seek his livelihood, it is harmful to his soul in the future, and if he devote himself to the next world, it is hurtful to his body, and there is no way for him of pleasing these two contraries at once.”—“Indeed, the quest of one’s worldly livelihood with pious intent and on lawful wise is a viaticum for the quest of the goods of the world to come; if a man spend a part of his days in seeking his livelihood in this world, for the sustenance of his body, and devote the rest of his day to seeking the goods of the next world, for the repose of his soul and the warding off of hurt therefrom; and indeed I see this world and the other world as they were two Kings, a just and an unjust.” Asked Shimas, “How so?” and the youth began the tale of
1 Arab. “Jahábizah” plur. of “Jahbiz”=acute, intelligent (from the Pers. Kahbad?)
2 Arab. “Nimr” in the Bresl. Edit. viii. 58. The Mac. Edit. suggests that the leopard is the lion’s Wazir.
3 Arab “Kaun” lit. =Being, existence. Trébutien (iii. 20) has it “Qu’est-ce que l’être (God), I’existence (Creation), l’être dans[‘existence (the world), et la duree de l’être dans l’existence (the other world).
4 i.e for the purpose of requital. All the above is orthodox Moslem doctrine, which utterly ignores the dictum “ex nihilo nihil fit;” and which would look upon Creation by Law (Darwinism) as opposed to Creation by miracle (e.g. the Mosaic cosmogony) as rank blasphemy. On the other hand the Eternity of Matter and its transcendental essence are tenets held by a host of Gnostics, philosophers and Eastern Agnostics.
5 This is a Moslem lieu commun; usually man is likened to one suspended in a bottomless well by a thin rope at which a rodent is continually gnawing and who amuses himself in licking a few drops of honey left by bees on the revetement.
There were once two Kings, a just and an unjust; and this one had a land abounding in trees and fruits and herbs, but he let no merchant pass without robbing him of his monies and his merchandise; and the traders endured this with patience, by reason of their profit from the fatness of the earth in the means of life and its pleasantness, more by token that it was renowned for its richness in precious stones and gems. Now the just King, who loved jewels, heard of this land and sent one of his subjects thither, giving him much specie and bidding him pass with it into the other’s realm and buy jewels therefrom. So he went thither; and, it being told to the unjust King that a merchant was come to his kingdom with much money to buy jewels withal, he sent for him to the presence and said to him, “Who art thou and whence comest thou and who brought thee thither and what is thy errand?” Quoth the merchant, “I am of such and such a region, and the King of that land gave me money and bade me buy therewith jewels from this country; so I obeyed his bidding and came.” Cried the unjust King, “Out on thee! Knowest thou not my fashion of dealing with the people of my realm and how each day I take their monies? How then comest thou to my country? And behold, thou hast been a sojourner here since such a time!” Answered the trader, “The money is not mine, not a mite of it; nay, ’tis a trust in my hands till I bring its equivalent to its owner.” But the King said, “I will not let thee take thy livelihood of my land or go out therefrom, except thou ransom thyself with this money all of it.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the unjust Ruler said to the trader who came to buy jewels from his country, “’Tis not possible for thee to take thy livelihood of my land except thou ransom thy life with this money, all of it else shalt thou die.” So the man said in himself, “I am fallen between two Kings, and I know that the oppression of this ruler embraceth all who abide in his dominions, and if I satisfy him not, I shall lose both life and money (whereof is no doubt) and shall fail of my errand; whilst, on the other hand, if I give him all the gold, it will most assuredly prove my ruin with its owner, the other King; wherefore no device will serve me but that I give this one a trifling part thereof and content him therewith and avert from myself and from the money perdition. Thus shall I get my livelihood of the fatness of this land, till I buy that which I desire of jewels; and, after satisfying the tyrant with gifts, I will take my portion of the profit and return to the owner of the money with his need, trusting in his justice and indulgence, and unfearing that he will punish me for that which this unjust King taketh of the treasure, especially if it be but a little.” Then the trader called down blessings on the tyrant and said to him, “O King, I will ransom myself and this specie with a small portion thereof, from the time of my entering thy country to that of my going forth therefrom.” The King agreed to this and left him at peace for a year, till he bought all manner jewels with the rest of the money and returned therewith to his master, to whom he made his excuses, confessing to having saved himself from the unjust King as before related. The just King accepted his excuse and praised him for his wise device and set him on his right hand in his divan and appointed him in his kingdom an abiding inheritance and a happy life-tide.1 “Now the just King is the similitude of the future world and the unjust King that of the present world; the jewels that be in the tyrant’s dominions are good deeds and pious works. The merchant is man and the money he hath with him is the provision appointed him of Allah. When I consider this, I know that it behoveth him who seeketh his livelihood in this world to leave not a day without seeking the goods of the world to come, so shall he content this world with that which he gaineth of the fatness of the earth and satisfy the other world with that which he spendeth of his life in seeking after it.” Q “Are the spirit2 and the body alike in reward and retribution, or is the body, as the luster of lusts and doer of sinful deeds, and especially affected with punishment?”—“The inclination to lusts and sins may be the cause of earning reward by the withholding of the soul therefrom and the repenting thereof; but the command3 is in the hand of Him who cloth what He will, and things by their contraries are distinguished. Thus subsistence is necessary to the body, but there is no body without soul, and the purification of the spirit is in making clean the intention in this world and taking thought to that which shall profit in the world to come. Indeed, soul and body are like two horses racing for a wager or two foster brothers or two partners in business. By the intent are good deeds distinguished, and thus the body and soul are partners in actions and in reward and retribution, and in this they are like the Blind man and the Cripple with the Overseer of the garden.” Asked Shimas, “How so?” and the Prince said. “Hear, O Wazir, the tale of
1 A curious pendent to the Scriptural parable of the Uniust Steward.
2 Arab. “Rúh” Heb. Ruach: lit. breath (spiritus) which in the animal kingdom is the surest sign of life. See vol. v. 29. Nothing can be more rigidly materialistic than the called Mosaic law.
3 Arab. “Al–Amr” which may also mean the business, the matter, the affair.
A blind man and a Cripple were travelling companions and used to beg alms in company. One day they sought admission into the garden of someone of the benevolent, and a kind-hearted wight, hearing their talk, took compassion on them and carried them into his garden, where he left them after plucking for them some of its produce and went away, bidding them do no waste nor damage therein. When the fruits became ripe, the Cripple said to the Blind man, “Harkye, I see ripe fruits and long for them, but I cannot rise to eat thereof; so go thou arise, for thou art sound of either leg, and fetch us somewhat that we may eat.” Replied the Blind, “Fie upon thee! I had no thought of them, but now that thou callest them to my mind, I long to eat of them and I am impotent unto this, being unable to see them; so how shall we do to get at them?” At this moment, behold, up came the Overseer of the garden, who was a man of understanding, and the Cripple said to him, “Harkye, O Overseer! I long for somewhat of those fruits, but we are as thou seest: I am a cripple and my mate here is stone-blind; so what shall we do?” Replied the Overseer “Woe to you! Have ye forgotten that the master of the garden stipulated with you that ye should do nothing whereby waste or damage befal it; so take warning and abstain from this.” But they answered, “Needs must we get our portion of these fruits that we may eat thereof; so tell us some device whereby we shall contrive this.” When the Overseer saw that they were not to be turned from their purpose, he said, “This, then, is my device, O Cripple, let the Blind bear thee on his back and take thee under the tree whose fruit pleaseth thee, so thou mayst pluck what thou canst reach thereof.” Accordingly the Blind man took on his back the Cripple who guided him till he brought him under a tree, and he fell to plucking from it what he would and tearing at its boughs till he had despoiled it, after which they went roundabout and throughout the garden and wasted it with their hands and feet; nor did they cease from this fashion, till they had stripped all the trees of the garth. Then they returned to their place and presently up came the master of the garden, who, seeing it in this plight, was wroth with sore wrath and coming up to them said, “Woe to you! What fashion is this? Did I not stipulate with you that ye should do no damage in the garden?” Quoth they, “Thou knowest that we are powerless to come at any of the fruit, for that one of us is a cripple and cannot rise and the other is blind and cannot see that which is before him; so what is our offense?” But the master answered, “Think ye I know not how ye wrought and how ye have gone about to do waste in my garden? I know, as if I had been with thee, O Blind, that thou tookest the Cripple pick-a-back, and he showed thee the way till thou borest him to the trees.” Then he punished them with grievous punishment and thrust them out of the garden. “Now the Blind is the similitude of the body which seeth not save by the spirit, and the Cripple that of the soul, for that it hath no power of motion but by the body; the garden is the works, for which the creature is rewarded or punished, and the Overseer is the reason which biddeth to good and forbiddeth from evil. Thus the body and the soul are partners in reward and retribution.” Q “Which of the learned men is most worthy of praise, according to thee?”—“He who is learned in the knowledge of Allah and whose knowledge profiteth him.” Q “And who is this?”—“Whoso is intent upon seeking to please his Lord and avoid His wrath.” Q “And which of them is the most excellent?”— “He who is most learned in the knowledge of Allah.” Q “And which is the most experienced of them?”—“Whoso in doing according to his knowledge is most constant.” Q “ And which is the purest hearted of them?”— “He who is most assiduous in preparing for death and praising the Lord and least of them in hope, and indeed he who penetrateth his soul with the awful ways of death is as one who looketh into a clear mirror, for that he knoweth the truth, and the mirror still increaseth in clearness and brilliance.” Q “What are the goodliest of treasures?”—“The treasures of heaven.” Q “Which is the goodliest of the treasures of Heaven?”—“The praise of Allah and His magnification.” Q “Which is the most excellent of the treasures of earth?”—“The practice of kindness.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir Shimas asked the King’s son, saying, “Which is the most excellent of the treasures of earth?” he answered, “The practice of kindness.” So the Minister pursued, “Tell me of three several and different things, knowledge and judgment and wit, and of that which uniteth them.”—“Knowledge cometh of learning, judgment of experience and wit of reflection, and they are all stablished and united in reason. Whoso combineth these three qualities attaineth perfection, and he who addeth thereto the piety and fear of the Lord is in the right course.” Q “Take the case of a man of learning and wisdom, endowed with right judgment, luminous intelligence and a keen wit and excelling, and tell me can desire and lust change these his qualities?”—“Yes; for these two passions, when they enter into a man, alter his wisdom and understanding and judgment and wit, and he is like the Ossifrage1 which, for precaution against the hunters, abode in the upper air, of the excess of his subtlety; but, as he was thus, he saw a fowler set up his nets and when the toils were firmly staked down bait them with a bit of meat; which when he beheld, desire and lust thereof overcame him and he forgot that which he had seen of springes and of the sorry plight of all birds that fell into them. So he swooped down from the welkin and pouncing upon the piece of meat, was meshed in the same snare and could not win free. When the fowler came up and saw the Ossifrage taken in his toils he marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, ‘I set up my nets, thinking to take therein pigeons and the like of small fowl; how came this Ossifrage to fall into it?’ It is said that when desire and lust incite a man of understanding to aught, he considereth the end thereof and refraineth from that which they make fair and represseth with his reason his lust and his concupiscence; for, when these passions urge him to aught, it behoveth him to make his reason like unto a horseman skilled in horsemanship who, mounting a skittish horse, curbeth him with a sharp bit,2 so that he go aright with him and bear him whither he will. As for the ignorant man, who hath neither knowledge nor judgment, while all things are obscure to him and desire and lust lord it over him, verily he doeth according to his desire and his lust and is of the number of those that perish; nor is there among men one in worse case than he.” Q “When is knowledge profitable and when availeth reason to ward off the ill effects of desire and lust?”—“When their possessor useth them in quest of the goods of the next world, for reason and knowledge are altogether profitable; but it befitteth not their owner to expend them in the quest of the goods of this world, save in such measure as may be needful for gaining his livelihood and defending himself from its mischief, but to lay them out with a view to futurity.” Q “What is most worthy that a man should apply himself thereto and occupy his heart withal?”— “Good works and pious.” Q “If a man do this it diverteth him from gaining his living; how then shall he do for his daily bread wherewith he may not dispense?”—“A man’s day is four-and-twenty hours, and it behoveth him to employ one third thereof in seeking his living, another in prayer and repose and the other in the pursuits of knowledge;3 for a reasonable man without knowledge is a barren land, which hath no place for tillage, tree-planting or grass-growing. Except it be prepared for filth and plantation, no fruit will profit therein; but, if it be tilled and planted, it bringeth forth goodly fruits. So with the man lacking education; there is no profit in him till knowledge be ranted in him; then cloth he bear fruit.” Q “What sayst thou of knowledge without understanding?”—“It is as the knowledge of a brute4 beast, which hath learnt the hours of its foddering and waking, but hath no reason.” Q “Thou hast been brief in thine answer here anent; but I accept thy reply. Tell me, how shall I guard myself against the Sultan?”—“By giving him no way to thee.” Q “And how can I but give him way to me, seeing that he is set in dominion over me and that the reins of my affair be in his hand?”—“His dominion over thee lieth in the duties thou owest him; wherefore, an thou give him his due, he hath no farther dominion over thee.” Q “What are a Wazir’s duties to his King?”—“Good counsel and zealous service both in public and private, right judgment, the keeping of his secrets, and that he conceal from his lord naught of that whereof he hath a right to be informed, lack of neglect of aught of his need with the gratifying of which he chargeth him, the seeking his approval in every guise, and the avoidance of his anger.” Q “How should the Wazir do with the King?”—“An thou be Wazir to the King and wouldst fain become safe from him, let thy hearing and thy speaking to him surpass his expectation of thee, and be thy seeking of thy want from him after the measure of thy rank in his esteem, and beware lest thou advance thyself to a dignity whereof he deemeth thee unworthy for this would be like presuming against him. So, if thou take advantage of his mildness and raise thee to a rank beyond that which he deemeth thy due, thou wilt be like the hunter, whose wont it was to trap wild beasts for their pelts and cast away the flesh. Now a lion used to come to that place and eat of the carrion, and in course of time, he made friendship with the hunter who would throw meat to him and wipe his hands on his back whilst the lion wagged his tail.5 But when the hunter saw his tameness and gentleness and submissiveness to him, he said to himself, ‘Verily this lion humbleth himself to me and I am master of him, and I see not why I should not mount him and strip off his hide, as with the other wild beasts.’ So he took courage and sprang on the lion’s back, presuming on his mildness and deeming himself sure of him; which when the lion saw, he raged with exceeding rage and raising his fore-paw, smote the hunter, that he drove his claws into his vitals, after which he cast him under foot and tare him in pieces and devoured him. By this we may know that it behoveth the Wazir to bear himself towards the King according to that which he seeth of his condition and not presume upon the superiority of his own judgment, lest the King become jealous of him.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ukáb al-kásir.” lit. =the breaker eagle.
2 Arab “Lijám shadíd:” the ring-bit of the Arabs is perhaps the severest form known: it is required by the Eastern practice of pulling up the horse when going at full speed and it is too well known to require description. As a rule the Arab rides with a “lady’s hand” and the barbarous habit of “hanging on by the curb” is unknown to him. I never pass by Rotten Row or see a regiment of English Cavalry without wishing to leave riders nothing but their snaffles.
3 We find this orderly distribution of time (which no one adopts) in many tongues and many forms. In the Life of Sir W. Jones (vol. i. p. 193, Poetical Works etc.) the following occurs, “written in India on a small piece of paper”; —
Sir Edward Coke
“Six hours to sleep, in law’s grave study six!
Four spend in prayer — the rest on Heaven fix!”
Rather:
“Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven;
Ten to the world allot, and all to Heaven!”
But this is not practical. I must prefer the Chartist distribution:
Six hours sleep and six hours play:
Six hours work and six shillings a day.
Mr Froude (Oceana) speaks of New Zealanders having attained that ideal of operative felicity:—
Eight to work, eight to play;
Eight to sleep and eight shillings a day.
4 Arab. “Bahímah,” mostly=black cattle: see vol. iv. 54.
5 As a rule when the felidæ wag their tails, it is a sign of coming anger, the reverse with the canidæ.
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth, the son of King Jali’ad, said to Shimas the Wazir, “It behoveth the Minister to bear himself towards the Monarch according to that which he seeth of his condition, and not to presume upon the superiority of his own judgment lest the King wax jealous of him.” Quoth Shimas, “How shall the Wazir grace himself in the King’s sight.”—“By the performance of the trust committed to him and of loyal counsel and sound judgment and the execution of his commands.” Q “As for what thou sayest of the Wazir’s duty to avoid the King’s anger and perform his wishes and apply himself diligently to the doing of that where with he chargeth him, such duty is always incumbent on him; but how, an the King’s whole pleasure be tyranny and the practice of oppression and exorbitant extortion; and what shall the Wazir do if he be afflicted by intercourse with this unjust lord? An he strive to turn him from his lust and his desire, he cannot do this, and if he follow him in his lusts and flatter him with false counsel, he assumeth the weight of responsibility herein and becometh an enemy to the people. What sayst thou of this?”— “What thou speakest, O Wazir, of his responsibility and sinfulness ariseth only in the case of his abetting the King in his wrong doing; but it behoveth the Wazir, when the King taketh counsel with him of the like of this, to show forth to him the way of justice and equity and warn him against tyranny and oppression and expound to him the principles of righteously governing the lieges, alluring him with the future reward that pertaineth to this and restraining him with warning of the punishment he otherwise will incur. If the King incline to him and hearken unto his words, his end is gained, and if not, there is nothing for it but that he depart from him after courteous fashion, because in parting for each of them is ease.” Q “What are the duties of the King to his subjects and what are the obligations of the lieges to their lord?”—“They shall do whatso he ordereth them with pure intent and obey him in that which pleaseth him and pleaseth Allah and the Apostle of Allah. And the lieges can claim of the lord that he protect their possessions and guard their women,1 even as it is their duty to hearken unto him and obey him and expend their lives freely in his defence and give him his lawful due and praise him fairly for that which he bestoweth upon them of his justice and bounty.” Q “Have his subjects any claim upon the King other than that which thou hast said?”—“Yes. The rights of the subjects from their Sovran are more binding than the liege lord’s claim upon his lieges, for that the breach of his duty towards them is more harmful than that of their duty towards him, because the ruin of the King and the loss of his kingdom and fortune befal not save by the breach of his devoir to his subjects; wherefore it behoveth him who is invested with the kingship to be assiduous in furthering three things: to wit, the fostering of the faith, the fostering of his subjects and the fostering of government; for by the ensuing of these three things, his kingdom shall endure.” Q “How cloth it behove him to do for his subjects’ weal?”—“By giving them their due and maintaining their laws and customs2 and employing Olema and learned men to teach them and justifying them, one of other, and sparing their blood and defending their goods and lightening their loads and strengthening their hosts.” Q “What is the Minister’s claim upon the Monarch?”—“None hath a more imperative claim on the King than hath the Wazir, for three reasons: firstly, because of that which shall befal him from his liege lord in case of error in judgment, and because of the general advantage to King and commons in case of sound judgmen; secondly, that folk may know the goodliness of the degree which the Wazir holdeth in the King’s esteem and therefore look on him with eyes of veneration and respect and submission3; and thirdly, that the Wazir, seeing this from King and subjects, may ward off from them that which they hate and fulfil to them that which they love.” Q “I have heard all thou hast said of the attributes of King and Wazir and liege and approve thereof; but now tell me what is incumbent in keeping the tongue from lying and folly and slandering good names and excess in speech.”—“It behoveth a man to speak naught but good and kindness and to talk not of that which toucheth him not, to leave detraction nor carry tale he hath heard from one man to his enemy, neither seek to harm his friend nor his foe with his Sultan and reck not of any (neither of him from whom he hopeth for good nor of him whom he feareth for mischief) save of Allah Almighty; for He indeed is the only one who harmeth or profiteth. Let him not impute default unto any nor talk ignorantly, lest he incur the weight and the sin thereof before Allah and earn hate among men; for know thou that speech is like an arrow which once shot none can avail to recall. Let him also beware of disclosing his secret to one who shall discover it, lest he fall into mischief by reason of its disclosure, after confidence on its concealment; and let him be more careful to keep his secret from his friend than from his foe, for the keeping a secret with all folk is of the performance of faithful trust.” Q “Tell me how a man should bear himself with his family and friends.”—“There is no rest for a son of Adam save in righteous conduct; he should render to his family that which they deserve and to his brethren whatso is their due.” Q “What should one render to one’s kinsfolk?”—“To parents, submission and soft speech and affability and honour and reverence. To brethren, good counsel and readiness to expend money for them and assistance in their undertakings and joyance in their joy and grieving for their grief and closing of the eyes toward the errors that they may commit; for, when they experience this from a man, they requite him with the best of counsel they can command and expend their lives in his defence; wherefore, an thou know thy brother to be trusty, lavish upon him thy love and help him in all his affairs.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In India it is popularly said that the Rajah can do anything with the Ryots provided he respects their women and their religion — not their property.
2 Arab. “Sunan” for which see vol. v. 36, 167. Here it is=Rasm or usage, equivalent to our precedents, and held valid, especially when dating from olden time, in all matters which are not expressly provided for by Koranic command. For instance a Hindí Moslem (who doubtless borrowed the customs from Hindús) will refuse to eat with the Kafir, and when the latter objects that there is no such prohibition in the Koran will reply, “No but it is our Rasm.” As a rule the Anglo–Indian is very ignorant on this essential point.
3 Lit. “lowering the wings,” see supra p. 33.
She pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth, the son and heir of King Jali’ad, when questioned by the Wazir upon the subjects aforesaid, returned him satisfactory replies; when Shimas resumed, “I see that brethren are of two kinds, brethren of trust and brethren of society.1 As for the first who be friends, there is due to them that which thou hast set forth; but now tell me of the others who be acquaintances.”— As for brethren of society, thou gettest of them pleasance and goodly usance and fair speech and enjoyable company; so be thou not sparing to them of thy delights, but be lavish to them thereof, like as they are lavish to thee, and render to them that which they render to thee of affable countenance and an open favour and sweet speech, so shall thy life be pleasant and thy words be accepted of them.” Q “Tell me now of the provision decreed by the Creator to all creatures. Hath He alloted to men and beasts each his several provision to the completion of his appointed life term; and if this allotment be thus, what maketh him who seeketh his livelihood to incur hardships and travail in the quest of that which he knoweth must come to him, if it be decreed to him, albeit he incur not the misery of endeavour; and which, if it be not decreed to him, he shall not win, though he strive after it with his uttermost striving? Shall he therefore stint endeavour and in his Lord put trust and to his body and his soul give rest?”— “Indeed, we see clearly that to each and every there is a provision distributed and a term prescribed; but to all livelihood are a way and means, and he who seeketh would get ease of his seeking by ceasing to seek; withal there is no help but that he seek his fortune. The seeker is, however, in two cases: either he gaineth his fortune or he faileth thereof. In the first case, his pleasure consisteth in two conditions: first, in the having gained his fortune, and secondly, in the laudable2 issue of his quest; and in the other case, his pleasure consisteth, first, in his readiness to seek his daily bread; secondly, in his abstaining from being a burthen to the folk; and thirdly, in his freedom from liability to blame.” Q “What sayst thou of the means of seeking one’s fortune?”—“A man shall hold lawful that which Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) alloweth, and unlawful whatso He forbiddeth.” Reaching this pass the discourse between them came to an end, and Shimas and all the Olema present rose and prostrating themselves before the young Prince, magnified and extolled him, whilst his father pressed him to his bosom and seating him on the throne of kingship, said, “Praised be Allah who hath blessed me with a son to be the coolth of mine eyes in my lifetime!” Then said the King’s son to Shimas in presence of all the Olema, “O sage that art versed in spiritual questions, albeit Allah have vouchsafed to me but scanty knowledge, yet do I comprehend thine intent in accepting from me what I proffered in answer concerning that whereof thou hast asked me, whether I hit or missed the mark therein, and belike thou forgavest my errors; but now I am minded to question thee anent a thing, whereof my judgment faileth and whereto my capacity is insufficient and which my tongue availeth not to set forth, for that it is obscure to me, with the obscurity of clear water in a black vessel. Wherefore would have thee expound it to me so no iota thereof may remain doubtful to the like of me, to whom its obscurity may present itself in the future, even as it hath presented itself to me in the past; since Allah, even as He hath made life to be in lymph3 and strength in food and the cure of the sick in the skill of the leach, so hath He appointed the healing of the fool to be in the learning of the wise. Give ear, therefore, to my speech.” Replied the Wazir, “O luminous of intelligence and master of casuistical questions, thou whose excellence all the Olema attest, by reason of the goodliness of thy discretion of things and thy distribution4 thereof and the justness of thine answers to the questions I have asked thee, thou knowest that thou canst enquire of me naught but thou art better able than I to form a just judgment thereon and expound it truly, for that Allah hath vouchsafed unto thee such wisdom as He hath bestowed on none other of men. But inform me of what thou wouldst question me.” Quoth the Prince, “Tell me from what did the Creator (magnified be His all-might!) create the world, albeit there was before it naught and there is naught seen in this world but it is created from something; and the Divine Creator (extolled and exalted be He!) is able to create things from nothing,5 yet hath His will decreed, for all the perfection of His power and grandeur, that He shall create naught but from something.” The Wazir replied, “As for those, who fashion vessels of potter’s clay,6 and other handicraftsmen, who cannot originate one thing save from another thing, they are themselves only created entities; but, as for the Creator, who hath wrought the world after this wondrous fashion, an thou wouldst know His power (extolled and exalted be He!) of calling things into existence, extend thy thought and consider the various kinds of created things, and thou wilt find signs and instances, proving the perfection of His puissance and that He is able to create the ens from the non-ens; nay, He called things into being, after absolute non-existence, for the elements which be the matter of created things were sheer nothingness. I will expound this to thee, so thou mayst be in no scepticism thereof, and the marvel-signs of the alternation of Night and Day shall make this clear to thee. When the light goeth and the night cometh, the day is hidden from us and we know not the place where it abideth; and when the night passeth away with its darkness and its terror, the day cometh and we know not the abiding-place of the night.7 In like manner, when the sun riseth upon us, we know not where it hath laid up its light, and when it setteth, we ignore the abiding-place of its setting; and the examples of this among the works of the Creator (magnified be His name and glorified be His might!) abound in what confoundeth the thought of the keenest witted of human beings.” Rejoined the Prince, “O sage, thou hast set before me of the power of the Creator what is incapable of denial; but tell me how He called His creatures into existence.” Answered Shimas, “He created them by the sole power of His one Word,8 which existed before time, and wherewith he created all things.” Quoth the Prince, “Then Allah (be His name magnified and His might glorified!) only willed the existence of created things, before they came into being?” Replied Shimas, “And of His will He created them with His one Word and, but for His speech and that one Word, the creation had not come into existence.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1.i.e. friends and acquaintances.
2 Arab. “Hamídah”=praiseworthy or satisfactory.
3 Not only alluding to the sperm of man and beast, but also to the “Neptunist” doctrine held by the ancient Greeks and Hindus and developed in Europe during the last century.
4 Arab. “Taksím” dividing into parts, analysis.
5 this is the usual illogical contention of all religions. It is not the question whether an Almighty Being can do a given thing: the question is whether He has or has not done it.
6 Upon the old simile of the potter I shall have something to say in a coming volume.
7 A fine specimen of a peculiarity in the undeveloped mind of man, the universal confusion between things objective as a dead body and states of things as death. We begin by giving a name, for facility of intercourse, to phases, phenomena and conditions of matter; and, having created the word we proceed to supply it with a fanciful entity, e.g. “The Mind (a useful term to express the aggregate action of the brain, nervous system etc.) of man is immortal.” The next step is personification as Time with his forelock, Death with his skull and Night (the absence of light) with her starry mantle. For poetry this abuse of language is a sine qua non, but it is deadly foe to all true philosophy.
8 Christians would naturally understand this “One Word” to be the {Greek letters} of the Platonists, adopted by St. John (comparatively a late writer) and by the Alexandrian school, Jewish (as Philo Judaeus) and Christian. But here the tale-teller alludes to the Divine Word “Kun” (be!) whereby the worlds came into existence.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after the King’s son had asked his sire’s Wazir the casuistical questions aforesaid, and had received a sufficient answer, Shimas said to him, “O dear my son,1 there is no man can tell thee other but tints I have said, except he twist the words handed down to us of the Holy Law and turn the truths thereof from their evident meaning. And such a perversion is their saying that the Word hath inherent and positive power and I take refuge with Allah from such a mis-belief! Nay, the meaning of our saying that Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) created the world with His Word is that He (exalted be His name!) is One in His essence and His attributes and not that His Word hath independent power. On the contrary, power is one of the attributes of Allah, even as speech and other attributes of perfection are attributes of Allah (exalted be His dignity and extolled be His empery!); wherefore He may not be conceived without His Word, nor may His Word be conceived without Him, for, with His Word, Allah (extolled be His praise!) created all His creatures, and without His Word, the Lord created naught. Indeed, He created all things but by His Word of Truth, and by Truth are we created.” Quoth the Prince, “I comprehend that which thou hast said on the subject of the Creator and from thee I accept this with understanding, but I hear thee say that He created the world by His Word of Truth. Now Truth is the opposite of Falsehood; whence then arose Falsehood with its opposition unto Truth, and how cometh it to be possible that it should be confounded therewith and become doubtful to human beings, so that they need to distinguish between the twain? And cloth the Creator (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) love Falsehood or hate it? An thou say He loveth Truth and by it created all things and abhorreth Falsehood, how came the False, which the Creator hateth, to invade the True which He loveth?” Quoth Shimas, “Verily Allah the Most High created man all Truth2, loving His name and obeying His word, and on this wise man had no need of repentance till Falsehood invaded the Truth whereby he was created by means of the capability3 which Allah had placed in him, being the will and the inclination called lust of lucre.4 When the False invaded the True on this wise, right became confounded with wrong, by reason of the will of man and his capability and greed of gain, which is the voluntary side of him together with the weakness of human nature; wherefore Allah created penitence for man, to turn away from him Untruth and stablish him in Truth, and He created for him also punishment if he should abide in the obscurity of Falsehood.” Quoth the Prince, “Tell me how came Untruth to invade Truth, so as to be confounded therewith, and how became man liable to punishment and so stood in need of repentance.” Replied Shimas, “When Allah created man with Truth, He made him loving to Himself and there was for him neither repentance nor punishment; but he abode thus till Allah put in him the soul, which is of the perfection of humanity, albeit naturally inclined to lust which is inherent therein. From this sprang the growth of Untruth and its confusion with Truth, wherewith man was created and with the love whereof his nature had been made; and when man came to this pass, he declined from the Truth with disobedience, and whoso declineth from the Truth falleth into Falsehood.” Said the Prince, “Then Falsehood invaded Truth only by reason of disobedience and transgression?” Shimas replied, “Yes, and it is thus because Allah loveth mankind, and of the abundance of His love to man He created him having need of Himself, that is to say, of the very Truth. But oftentimes man lapseth from this by cause of the inclination of the soul to lusts and turneth to frowardness, wherefore he falleth into Falsehood by the act of disobeying his Lord and thus deserveth punishment, and, by putting away from himself Falsehood with repentance and by the returning to the love of the Truth, he meriteth future reward.” Quoth the Prince, “Tell me the origin of sin, whilst all mankind trace their being to Adam, and how cometh it that he, being created of Allah with truth, drew disobedience on himself; then was his disobedience coupled with repentance, after the soul had been set in him, that his issue might be reward or retribution? Indeed, we see some men constant in sinfulness, inclining to that which He loveth not and transgressing in this the original intent and purpose of their creation, which is the love of the Truth, and drawing on themselves the wrath of their Lord, whilst we see others constant in seeking the satisfaction of their Creator and obeying Him and meriting mercy and future recompense. What causeth this difference prevailing between them?” Replied Shimas, “The origin of disobedience descending upon mankind is attributable to Iblis, who was the noblest of all that Allah (magnified be His name!) created of angels5 and men and Jinn, and the love of the Truth was inherent in him, for he knew naught but this; but whenas he saw himself unique in such dignity, there entered into him pride and conceit, vainglory and arrogance which revolted from loyalty and obedience to the commandment of His Creator; wherefore Allah made him inferior to all creatures and cast him out from love, making his abiding-place to be in disobedience. So when he knew that Allah (glorified be His name!) loved not disobedience and saw Adam and the case wherein he was of truth and love and obedience to his Creator, envy entered into him and he devised some device to pervert Adam from the truth, that he might be a partaker with himself in Falsehood; and by this, Adam incurred chastisement for his inclining to disobedience, which his foe made fair to him, and his subjection to his lusts, whenas he transgressed the charge of his Lord, by reason of the appearance of Falsehood. When the Creator (magnified be the praises of Him and hallowed be the names of Him!) saw the weakness of man and the swiftness of his inclining to his enemy and leaving the truth, He appointed to him, of His mercy, repentance, that therewith he might arise from the slough6 of inclination to disobedience and taking the arms and armour of repentance, overcame therewith his foe Iblis and his hosts and return to the Truth, wherein he was created. When Iblis saw that Allah (magnified be His praise!) had appointed him a protracted term,7 he hastened to wage war upon man and to best him with wiles, to the intent that he might oust him from the favour of his Lord and make him a partaker with himself in the wrath which he and his hosts had incurred; wherefore Allah (extolled be His praises!) appointed unto man the capability of penitence and commanded him to apply himself to the Truth and persevere therein; and forbade him from disobedience and frowardness and revealed to him that he had on the earth an enemy warring against him and relazing not from him night nor day. Thus hath man a right to future reward, if he adhere to the Truth, in the love of which his nature was created; but he becometh liable to punishment, if the flesh master him and incline him to lusts.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ya bunayyí” a dim. form lit. “O my little son!” an affectionate address frequent in Russian, whose “little father” (under “Bog”) is his Czar.
2 Thus in two texts. Mr. Payne has, “Verily God the Most High created man after His own image, and likened him to Himself, all of Him truth, without falsehood; then He gave him dominion over himself and ordered him and forbade him, and it was man who transgressed His commandment and erred in his obedience and brought falsehood upon himself of his own will.” Here he borrows from the Bresl. Edit. viii. 84 (five first lines). But the doctrine is rather Jewish and Christian than Moslem: Al–Mas’údi (ii. 389) introduces a Copt in the presence of Ibn Tutún saying, “Prince, these people (designing a Jew) pretend that Allah Almighty created Adam (i.e. mankind) after His own image” (‘Alá Súrati-h).
3 Arab. “Istitá‘ah”=ableness e.g. “Al hajj ‘inda ‘l-Istitá‘ah”=Pilgrimage when a man is able thereto (by easy circumstances).
4 Arab. “Al–Kasab,” which phrenologists would translate “acquisitiveness,” The author is here attempting to reconcile man’s moral responsibility, that is Freewill, with Fate by which all human actions are directed and controlled. I cannot see that he fails to “apprehend the knotty point of doctrine involved”; but I find his inability to make two contraries agree as pronounced as that of all others, Moslems and Christians, that preceded him in the same path.
5 The order should be, “men, angels and Jinn,” for which see vol. i. p. 10. But “angels” here takes precedence because Iblis was one of them.
6 Arab. “Wartah”=precipice, quagmire, quicksand and hence sundry secondary and metaphorical significations, under which, as in the “Semitic” (Arabic) tongues generally, the prosaical and material sense of the word is clearly evident. I noted this in Pilgrimage iii. 66 and was soundly abused for so saying by a host of Sciolists.
7 i.e. Allowing the Devil to go about the world and seduce mankind until Doomsday when “auld Sootie’s” occupation will be gone. Surely “Providence” might have managed better.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the young Prince had questioned Shimas touching disputed points of olden time and had been duly answered, he presently said, “Now tell me by what power is the creature able to transgress against his Creator, seeing that His omnipotence is without bounds, even as thou hast set forth, and that naught can overcome Him or depart from His will? Deemest thou not that He is able to turn His creatures from this disobedience and compel them eternally to hold the Truth?” Answered Shimas, “In very sooth Almighty Allah (honoured be His name!) is just and equitable and loving-kind to the people of His affection.1 He created His creatures with justice and equity and of the inspiration of His justice and the overflowing of His mercy, He gave them kingship over themselves, that they should do whatever they might design. He showeth them the way of rightwousness and bestoweth on them the power and ability of doing what they will of good: and if they do the opposite thereof, they fall into destruction and disobedience.” Q “If the Creator, as thou sayest, have granted to mankind power and ability2 and they by reason thereof are empowered to do whatso they will, why then doth He not come between them and that which they desire of wrong and turn them to the right?”—“This is of the greatness of His mercy and the goodliness of His wisdom; for, even as aforetime he showed wrath to Iblis and had no mercy on him, even so he showed Adam mercy, by means3 of repentance, and accepted of him, after He had been wroth with him.” Q “He is indeed mere Truth, for He it is who requiteth every one according to his works, and there is no Creator save Allah who hath power over all things. But tell me, hath He created that which He loveth and that which He loveth not or only that which He loveth?”—“He created all things, but favoureth only that which he loveth.” Q “What reckest thou of two things, one whereof is pleasing to God and earneth future reward for him who practiseth it and the other offendeth Allah and entaileth lawful punishment upon the doer?”—“Expound to me these two things and make me to apprehend them, that I may speak concerning them.” Q “They are good and evil, the two things inherent in the body and in the soul.”—“O wise youth, I see that thou knowest good and evil to be of the works which the soul and the body combine to do. Good is named good, because it is in favour with God, and evil is termed ill, for that in it is His ill-will. Indeed, it behoveth thee to know Allah and to please Him by the practice of good, for that He hath bidden us to this and forbidden us to do evil.” Q “I see these two things, to wit, good and evil, to be wrought only by the five senses familiarly known in the body of man, which be the sensorium4 whence proceed speech, hearing, sight, smell and touch. Now I would have thee tell me whether these five senses were created altogether for good or for evil.”—“Apprehend, O man, the exposition of that whereof thou askest and it is a manifest proof; so lay it up in thine innermost thought and take it to thy heart. And this it is that the Creator (extolled and exalted be He!) created man with Truth and impressed him with the love thereof and there proceedeth from it no created thing save by the puissance of the Most High, whose trace is in every phenomenon. He5 (extol we Him and exalt we Him!) is not apt but to the ordering of justice and equity and beneficence, and He created man for the love of Him and set in him a soul, wherein the inclination to lusts was innate and assigned him capability and ableness and appointed the Five Senses aforesaid to be to him a means of winning Heaven or Hell.” Q “How so?”—“In that He created the Tongue for speech, the Hands for action, the Feet for walking and the Eyes for seeing and the Ears for hearing, and upon each bestowed especial power and incited them to exercise and motion, bidding each of them do naught save that which pleaseth Him. Now what pleaseth Him in Speech is truthfulness and abstaining from its opposite, which is falsehood; and what pleaseth Him in Sight is turning it unto that which He loveth and leaving the contrary, which is turning it unto that which He hateth, such as looking unto lusts; and what pleaseth Him in Hearing is hearkening to naught but the True, such as admonition and that which is in Allah’s writ and leaving the contrary, which is listening to that which incurreth the anger of Allah; and what pleaseth Him in the Hands is not hoarding up that which He entrusteth to them, but expending it in such way as shall please Him and leaving the contrary, which is avarice or spending in sinfulness that which He hath committed to them; and what pleaseth Him in the Feet is that they be constant in the pursuit of good, such as the quest of instruction, and leave its contrary, which is the walking in other than the way of Allah. Now respecting the rest of the lusts which man practiseth, they proceed from the body by command of the soul. But the lusts which proceed from the body are of two kinds, the lust of reproduction and the lust of the belly. As for the former, that which pleaseth Allah thereof is that it be not other than lawful6 and He is displeased with it if contrary to His law. As for the lust of the belly, eating and drinking, what pleaseth Allah thereof is that each take naught save that which the Almighty hath appointed him be it little or mickle, and praise the Lord and thank Him; and what angereth Him thereof is that a man take that which is not his by right. All precepts other than these are false, and thou knowest that Allah created everything and delighteth only in Good and commandeth each member of the body to do that which He hath made on it incumbent, for that He is the All-wise, the All-knowing.” Q “Was it foreknown unto Allah Almighty (exalted be His power!) that Adam, by eating of the tree from which He forbade him and whence befel what befel, would leave obedience for disobedience?”—“Yes, O sage youth. This was foreknown unto Allah Almighty ere He created Adam, and the proof and manifestation attached thereto is the warning He gave him against eating of the tree and His informing him that, if he ate of the fruit he would be disobedient. And this was in the way of justice and equity, lest Adam should have an argument wherewith he might excuse himself against his Lord. When therefore, he fell into error and calamity and when disgrace waxed sore upon him and reproach, this passed to his posterity after him; wherefore Allah sent Prophets and Apostles and gave to them Books and they taught us the divine commandments and expounded to us what was therein of admonitions and precepts and made clear to us and manifest the way of righteousness and explained to us what it behoved us to do and what to leave undone. Now we are endowed with Freewill and he who acteth within these lawful limits winneth his wish and prospereth, while whoso transgresseth these legal bounds and doeth other than that which these precepts enjoin, resisteth the Lord and is ruined in both Abodes. This then is the road of Good and Evil. Thou knowest that Allah over all things is Omnipotent and created not lusts for us but of His pleasure and volunty, and He bade us use them in the way of lawfulness, so they might be to us a good; but, when we use them in the way of sinfulness they are to us an evil. Therefore what of righteous we compass is from Allah Almighty, and what of wrongous from ourselves7 His creatures, not from the Creator, exalted be He herefor with highmost exaltation!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. to those who deserve His love.
2 Here “Istitá‘ah” would mean capability of action, i.e. freewill, which is a mere word like “free-trade.”
3 Arab. “Bi al-taubah” which may also mean “for (on account of his) penitence.” The reader will note how the learned Shimas “dodges” the real question. He is asked why the “Omnipotent, Omniscient did not prevent (i.e. why He created) sin?” He answers that He kindly permitted (i.e. created and sanctioned) it that man might repent. Proh pudor! If any one thus reasoned of mundane matters he would be looked upon as the merest fool.
4 Arab. “Mahall al-Zauk,” lit.=seat of taste.
5 Mr. Payne translates “it” i.e. the Truth; but the formula following the word shows that Allah is meant.
6 Moslems, who do their best to countermine the ascetic idea inherent in Christianity, are not ashamed of the sensual appetite; but rather the reverse. I have heard in Persia of a Religious, highly esteemed for learning and saintly life who, when lodged by a disciple at Shiraz, came out of his sleeping room and aroused his host with the words “Shahwat dáram!” equivalent to our “I want a woman.” He was at once married to one of the slave-girls and able to gratify the demands of the flesh.
7 Koran iv. 81, “Whatever good betideth thee is from God, and whatever betideth thee Of evil is from thyself”: rank Manichæism, as pronounced as any in Christendom.
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the youth, King Jali’ad’s son had questioned Shimas concerning these subtleties and had been duly answered, he pursued, “That which thou hast expounded to me concerning Allah and His creatures I understand; but tell me of one matter, concerning which my mind is perplexed with extreme wonderment, and that is that I marvel at the sons of Adam, how careless they are of the life to come and at their lack of taking thought thereof and their love to this world, albeit they know that they must needs leave it and depart from it, whilst they are yet young in years.”—“Yes, verily; and that which thou seest of its changefulness and traitorousness with its children is a sign that Fortune to the fortunate will not endure nor to the afflicted affliction; for none of its people is secure from its changefulness and even if one have power over it and be content therewith, yet there is no help but that his estate change and removal hasten unto him. Wherefore man can put no trust therein nor profit by that which he enjoyeth of its gilding and glitter1; and we knowing this will know that the sorriest of men in condition are those who are deluded by this world and are unmindful of the other world; for that whatso of present ease they enjoy will not even the fear and misery and horrors which will befal them after their removal therefrom. Thus are we certified that, if the creature knew that which will betide him with the coming of death2 and his severance from that which he enjoyeth of pleasure and delight, he would cast away the world and that which is therein; for we are certified that the next life is better for us and more profitable.” Said the Prince, “O sage, thou hast dispelled the darkness that was upon my heart by the light of thy shining lamp and hast directed me into the right road I must tread on the track of Truth and hast given me a lantern whereby I may see.” Then rose one of the learned men who was in the presence and said, “When cometh the season of Prime, needs must the hare seek the pasture as well as the elephant; and indeed I have heard from you twain such questions and solutions as I never before heard; but now leave that and let me ask you of somewhat. Tell me, what is the best of the goods of the world?” Replied the Prince, “Health of body, lawful livelihood and a virtuous son.” Q “What is the greater and what is the less?”— “The greater is that to which a lesser than itself submitteth and the less that which submitteth to a greater than itself.” Q “What are the four things wherein concur all creatures?”—“Men concur in meat and drink, the sweet of sleep, the lust of women and the agonies of death.” Q “What are the three things whose foulness none can do away?”—“Folly, meanness of nature, and lying.” Q “What is the best kind of lie,3 though all kinds are foul?”—“That which averteth harm from its utterer and bringeth gain.” Q “What kind of truthfulness is foul, though all kinds are fair?”—“That of a man glorying in that which he hath and vaunting himself thereof.” Q “What is the foulest of foulnesses?”—“When a man boasteth himself of that which he hath not.” Q “Who is the most foolish of men?”—“He who hath no thought but of what he shall put in his belly.” Then said Shimas, “O King, verily thou art our King, but we desire that thou assign the kingdom to thy son after thee, and we will be thy servants and lieges.” So the King exhorted the Olema and others who were in the presence to remember that which they had heard and do according thereto and enjoined them to obey his son’s commandment, for that he made him his heir-apparent,4 so he should be the successor of the King his sire; and he took an oath of all the people of his empire, literates and braves and old men and boys, to mention none other, that they would not oppose him in the succession nor transgress against his commandment. Now when the Prince was seventeen years old, the King sickened of a sore sickness and came nigh to die, so, being certified that his decease was at hand, he said to the people of his household, “This is disease of Death which is upon me; wherefore do ye summon my son and kith and kin and gather together the Grandees and Notables of my empire, so not one of them may remain except he be present.” Accordingly they fared forth and made proclamation to those who were near and published the summons to those who were afar off, and they all assembled and went in to the King. Then said they to him, “How is it with thee, O King, and how deemest thou for thyself of these thy dolours?” Quoth Jali’ad, “Verily, this my malady is mortal and the shaft of death hath executed that which Allah Almighty decreed against me: this is the last of my days in the world here and the first of my days in the world hereafter.” Then said he to his son, “Draw near unto me.” So the youth drew near, weeping with weeping so sore, that he well nigh drenched the bed, whilst the King’s eyes welled tears and all who were present wept. Quoth Jali’ad, “Weep not, O my son; I am not the first whom this Inevitable betideth; nay, it is common to all that Allah hath created. But fear thou the Almighty and do good deeds which shall precede thee to the place whither all creatures tend and wend. Obey not thy lusts, but occupy thy soul with lauding the Lord in thy standing up and thy sitting down, in thy waking and in thy sleeping. Make the Truth the aim of thine eyes; this is the last of my speech with thee and — The Peace.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zukhruf” which Mr. Payne picturesquely renders “painted gawds.”
2 It is the innate craving in the “Aryan” (Iranian, not the Turanian) mind, this longing to know what follows Death, or if nothing follows it, which accounts for the marvellous diffusion of the so-called Spiritualism which is only Swedenborgianism systematised and earned out into action, amongst nervous and impressionable races like the Anglo–American. In England it is the reverse; the obtuse sensitiveness of a people bred on beef and beer has made the “Religion of the Nineteenth Century” a manner of harmless magic, whose miracles are table-turning and ghost seeing whilst the prodigious rascality of its prophets (the so-called Mediums) has brought it into universal disrepute. It has been said that Catholicism must be true to co-exist with the priest and it is the same with Spiritualism proper, by which I understand the belief in a life beyond the grave, a mere continuation of this life; it flourishes (despite the Medium) chiefly because it has laid before man the only possible and intelligible idea of a future state.
3 See vol. vi. p. 7. The only lie which degrades a man in his own estimation and in that of others, is that told for fear of telling the truth. Au reste, human society and civilised intercourse are built upon a system of conventional lying. and many droll stories illustrate the consequences of disregarding the dictum, la verité n’est pas tonjours bonne à dire.
4 Arab. “Walí‘ahd” which may mean heir-presumptive (whose heirship is contingent) or heir-apparent.
She pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Jali’ad charged his son with such injunctions and made him his heir to succeed him in his reign, the Prince said, “O dear father mine,1 thou knowest that I have ever been to thee obedient and thy commandment carrying out, mindful of thine injunctions and thine approof seeking, for thou hast been to me the best of fathers; how, then, after thy death, shall I depart from that which contenteth thee? And now, having fairly ordered my nurture thou art about to depart from me and I have no power to bring thee back to me; but, an I be mindful of thy charge, I shall be blessed therein and great good fortune shall betide me.” Quoth the King, and indeed he was in the last agony of departing life, “Dear my son, cleave fast unto ten precepts, which if thou hold, Allah shall profit thee herewith in this world and the next world, and they are as follows. Whenas thou art wroth, curb thy wrath; when thou art afflicted, be patient; when thou speakest be soothfast; when thou promisest, perform; when thou judgest, do justice; when thou hast power, be merciful; deal generously by thy governors and lieutenants, forgive thy foes; be lavish of good offices to thine adversary, and stay thy mischief from him. Observe also other ten precepts,2 wherewith Allah shall profit thee among the people of thy realm: to wit, when thou dividest, be just; when thou punishest, oppress not; when thou engagest thyself, fulfil thine engagement; hearken to those that give thee loyal counsel; when offence is offered to thee, neglect it; abstain from contention; enjoin thy subjects to the observance of the divine laws and of praiseworthy practices; abate ignorance with a sharp sword; withhold thy regard from treachery and its untruth; and, lastly, do equal justice between the folk, so they may love thee, great and small, and the wicked and corrupt of them may fear thee.” Then he addressed himself to the Emirs and Olema which were present when he appointed his son to be his successor, saying, “Beware ye of transgressing the commandment of your King and neglecting to hearken to your chief, for therein lieth ruin for your realm and sundering for your society and bane for your bodies and perdition for your possessions, and your foe would exult over you. Well ye wot the covenant ye made with me, and even thus shall be your covenant with this youth and the troth which plighted between you and me shall be also between you and him; wherefore it behoveth you to give ear unto and obey his commandment, for that in this is the well being of your conditions. So be ye constant with him anent that wherein ye were with me and your estate shall prosper and your affairs be fair; for behold, he hath the Kingship over you and is the lord of your fortune, and — The Peace.” Then the death agony3 seized him and his tongue was bridled; so he pressed his son to him and kissed him and gave thanks unto Allah, after which his hour came and his soul fared forth. All his subjects and the people of his court mourned and keened over him and they shrouded him and buried him with pomp and honour and reverence, after which they returned with the Prince and clad him in the royal robes and crowned him with his father’s crown and put the seal-ring on his finger, after seating him on the Throne of Sovranship. The young King ordered himself towards them, after his father’s fashion of mildness and justice and benevolence, for a little while till the world waylaid him and entangled him in its lusts, whereupon, its pleasures made him their prey and he turned to its gilding and gewgaws, forsaking the engagements which his father had imposed upon him and casting off his obedience to him, neglecting the affairs of his reign and treading a road wherein was his own destruction. The love of women waxed stark in him and came to such a pass that, whenever he heard tell of a beauty, he would send for her and take her to wife; and after this wise, he collected women more in number than ever had Solomon, David-son, King of the children of Israel. Also he would shut himself up with a company of them for a month at a time, during which he went not forth neither enquired of his realm or its rule nor looked into the grievances of such of his subjects as complained to him; and if they wrote to him, he returned them no reply. Now when they saw this and witnessed his neglect of their affairs and lack of care for their interests and those of the state, they were assured that ere long some calamity would betide them and this was grievous to them. So they met privily one with other and took counsel together blaming their King, and one of them said to the rest, “Come, let us go to Shimas, Chief of the Wazirs, and set forth to him our case and acquaint him with that wherein we are by reason of this King, so he may admonish him; else, in a little, calamity will dawn upon us, for the world hath dazzled the Sovran with its delights and seduced him with its snares.” Accordingly, they repaired to Shimas and said to him, “O wise man and prudent, the world hath dazed the King with its delights and taken him in its toils, so that he turneth unto vanity and worketh for the undoing of the state. Now with the disordering of the state the commons will be corrupted and our affairs will run to ruin. We see him not for days and months nor cometh there forth from him any commandment to us or to the Wazir or any else. We cannot refer aught of our need to him and he looketh not to the administration of justice nor taketh thought to the condition of any of his subjects, in his disregard of them.4 And behold we are come to acquaint thee with the truth of things, for that thou art the chiefest and most accomplished of us and it behoveth not that calamity befal a land wherein thou dwellest, seeing that thou art most able of any to amend this King. Wherefore go thou and speak with him; haply he will hearken to thy word and return unto the way of Allah.”5 So Shimas arose forthright and repairing to the palace, foregathered with the first page he could find and said to him, “Fair my son, I beseech thee ask leave for me to go in to the King, for I have an affair, concerning which I would fain see his face and acquaint him therewith and hear what he shall answer me there anent.” Answered the page, “O my lord, by Allah, this month past hath he given none leave to come in to him, nor have I all this time looked upon his face; but I will direct thee to one who shall crave admission for thee. Do thou lay hold of such a blackamoor slave who standeth at his head and bringeth him food from the kitchen. When he cometh forth to go to the kitchen, ask him what seemeth good to thee, for he will do for thee that which thou desirest.” So the Wazir repaired to the door of the kitchen and sat there a little while, till up came the black and would have entered the kitchen; but Shimas caught hold of him and said to him, “Dear my son, I would fain stand in presence of the King and speak with him of somewhat especially concerneth him; so prithee, of thy kindness, when he hath ended his undurn-meal and his temper is at its best, speak for me and get me leave to approach him, so I may bespeak him of that which shall suit him.” “I hear and obey,” answered the black and taking the food carried it to the King, who ate thereof and his temper was soothed thereby. Then said the black to him, “Shimas standeth at the door and craveth admission, so he may acquaint thee with matters that specially concern thee.” At this the King was alarmed and disquieted and commanded to admit the Minister. — And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Yá abati”= my papa (which here would sound absurd).
2 All the texts give a decalogue; but Mr. Payne has reduced it to a heptalogue.
3 The Arabs who had a variety of anæsthetics never seem to have studied the subject of “euthanasia.” They preferred seeing a man expire in horrible agonies to relieving him by means of soporifics and other drugs: so I have heard Christians exult in saying that the sufferer “kept his senses to the last.” Of course superstition is at the bottom of this barbarity; the same which a generation ago made the silly accoucheur refuse to give ether because of the divine (?) saying “In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children.” (Gen iii. 16.) In the Bosnia–Herzegovina campaign many of the Austrian officers carried with them doses of poison to be used in case of being taken prisoners by the ferocious savages against whom they were fighting. As many anecdotes about “Easing off the poor dear” testify, the Euthanasia-system is by no means unknown to the lower classes in England. I shall have more to say on this subject.
4 See vol. iii. p. 253 for the consequences of royal seclusion of which Europe in the present day can contribute examples. The lesson which it teaches simply is that the world can get on very well without royalties.
5 The grim Arab humour in the text is the sudden change for the worse of the good young man. Easterns do not believe in the Western saw, “Nemo repente fuit turpissimus.” The spirited conduct of the subjects finds many parallels in European history, especially in Portugal: see my Life of Camoens p. 234.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King bade the blackamoor admit Shimas, the slave went forth to him and bade him enter; whereupon he went in and falling prone before Allah, kissed the King’s hands and blessed him. Then said the King, “What hath betided thee, O Shimas, that thou seekest admission unto me?” He answered, “This long while have I not looked upon the face of my lord the King and indeed I longed sore for thee; and now, behold, I have seen thy countenance and come to thee with a word which I would fief say to thee, O King stablished in all prosperity!” Quoth the King, “Say what seemeth good to thee;” and quoth Shimas, “I would have thee bear in mind O King, that Allah Almighty hath endowed thee with learning and wisdom, for all the tenderness of thy years, such as He never vouchsafed unto any of the Kings before thee, and hath fulfilled the measure of his bounties to thee with the Kingship; and He loveth not that thou depart from that wherewith He hath endowed thee unto other than it, by means of thy disobedience to Him; wherefore it behoveth thee not to levy war against1 Him with thy hoards but of His injunctions to be mindful and unto His commandments obedient. Indeed, I have seen thee, this while past, forget thy sire and his charges and reject his covenant and neglect his counsel and words of wisdom and renounce his justice and good governance, remembering not the bounty of Allah to thee neither requiting it with gratitude and thanks to Him.” The King asked, “How so? And what is the manner of this?”; and Shimas answered, “The manner of it is that thou neglectest to administer the affairs of the state and that which Allah hath committed unto thee of the interests of thy lieges and surrenderest thyself to thy lower nature in that which it maketh fair to thee of the slight lusts of the world. Verily it is said that the welfare of the state and of the Faith and of the folk is of the things which it behoveth the King to watch; wherefore it is my rede, O King, that thou look fairly to the issue of thine affair, for thus wilt thou find the manifest road wherein is salvation, and not accept a trifling pleasure and a transient which leadeth to the abyss of destruction, lest there befal thee that which befel the Fisherman.” The King asked, “What was that?”; and Shimas answered, “there hath reached me this tale of
1 Arab. “Muhárabah” lit.=doing battle; but is sometimes used in the sense of gain-saying or disobeying.
A fisherman went forth to a river for fishing therein as was his wont, and when he came thither and walked upon the bridge, he saw a great fish and said in himself, “’Twill not serve me to abide here, but I will follow yonder fish whitherso it goeth, till I catch it for it will relieve me from fishing for days and days.” So he did off his clothes and plunged into the river after the fish. The current bore him along till he overtook it and laid hold of it, when he turned and found himself far from the bank. But albeit he saw what the stream had done with him, he would not loose the fish and return, but ventured life and gripping it fast with both hands, let his body float with the flow, which carried him on till it cast him into a whirlpool1 none might enter and come out therefrom. With this he fell to crying out and saying, “Save a drowning man!” And there came to him folk of the keepers of the river and said to him, “What ailed thee to cast thyself into this great peril?” Quoth he, “It was I myself who forsook the plain way wherein was salvation and gave myself over to concupiscence and perdition.” Quoth they, “O fellow, why didst thou leave the way of safety and cast thyself into this destruction, knowing from of old that none may enter herein and be saved? What hindered thee from throwing away what was in thy hand and saving thyself? So hadst thou escaped with thy life and not fallen into this perdition, whence there is no deliverance; and now not one of us can rescue thee from this thy ruin.” Accordingly the man cut off all his hopes of life and lost that which was in his hand and for which his flesh had prompted him to venture himself, and died a miserable death. “And I tell thee not this parable, O King,” added Shimas, “but that thou mayest leave this contemptible conduct that diverteth thee from thy duties and look to that which is committed to thee of the rule of thy folk and the maintenance of the order of thy realm, so that none may see fault in thee.” The King asked “What wouldst thou have me do?” And Shimas answered, “Tomorrow, an thou be well and in good case,2 give the folk leave to come in to thee and look into their affairs and excuse thyself to them and promise them of thine own accord good governance and prosperity.” Quoth the King, “O Shimas, thou hast spoken sensibly and rightly; and to-morrowf, Inshallah, I will do that which thou counsellest me.” So the Wazir went out from him and told the lieges all he had said to him; and, when morning morrowed, the King came forth of his privacy and bade admit the people, to whom he excused himself, promising them that thence forward he would deal with them as they wished, wherewith they were content and departed each to his own dwelling.3 Then one of the King’s wives, who was his best-beloved of them and most in honour with him, visited him and seeing him changed of colour and thoughtful over his affairs, by reason of that which he had heard from his Chief Wazir, said to him, “O King, how is it that I see thee troubled in mind? Hast thou aught to complain of?” Answered he, “No, but my pleasures have distracted me from my duties. What right have I to be thus negligent of my affairs and those of my subjects? If I continue on this wise, soon, very soon, the kingdom will pass out of my hand.” She rejoined, “I see, O King, that thou hast been duped by the Wazirs and Ministers, who wish but to torment and entrap thee, so thou mayst have no joyance of this thy kingship neither feel ease nor taste delight; nay, they would have thee consume thy life in warding off trouble from them, till thy days be wasted in travail and weariness and thou be as one who slayeth himself for the benefit of another or like the Boy and the Thieves.” Asked the King, “How was that?” and she answered, “They tell the following tale anent
1 Arab. “Duwámah” (from “duwám”=vertigo, giddiness) also applied to a boy’s whip ton.
2 Arab. “Khayr o (we) Áfiyah,” a popular phrase much used in salutations, &c.
3 Another instance, and true to life, of the democracy of despotism in which the express and combined will of the people is the only absolute law. Hence Russian autocracy is forced into repeated wars for the possession of Constantinople which, in the present condition of the Empire, would be an unmitigated evil to her and would be only too glad to see a Principality of Byzantium placed under the united protection of the European Powers. I have treated of this in my paper on the “Partition of Turkey,” which first appeared, headed the “Future of Turkey,” in the Daily Telegraph, of March 7, 1880, and subsequently by its own name in the Manchester Examiner, January 3, 1881. The main reason why the project is not carried out appears to be that the “politicals” would thereby find their occupation gone and they naturally object to losing so fine a field of action. So Turkey still plays the rôle of the pretty young lady being courted by a rabble of valets.
Seven Thieves once went out to steal, according to their custom, and fell in with a Boy, poor and orphaned to boot, who besought them for somewhat to eat. One of them asked him, “Wilt go with us, O Boy, and we will feed thee and give thee drink, clothe thee and entreat thee kindly?” And he answered, “Needs must I go with you whitherso ye will and ye are as my own kith and kin.” So they took him and fared on with him till they came to a garden, and entering, went round about therein till they found a walnut tree laden with ripe fruit and said to him, “O Boy, wilt thou enter this garden with us and swarm up this tree and eat of its walnuts thy sufficiency and throw the rest down to us?” He consented and entered with them — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Boy consented and entered with the Thieves, one of them said to other, “Look which is the lightest and smallest of us and make him climb the tree.” And they said, “None of us is slighter than this Boy.” So they sent him up into the tree and said to him, “O Boy, touch not aught of the fruit, lest someone see thee and work thee a mischief.” He asked, “How then shall I do?”, and they answered, “Sit among the boughs and shake them one by one with all thy might, so that which is thereon may fall, and we will pick it up. Then, when thou hast made an end of shaking down the fruit, come down and take thy share of that which we have gathered.” Accordingly he began to shake every branch at which he could come, so that the nuts fell and the thieves picked them up and ate some and hid other some till all were full, save the Boy who had eaten naught. As they were thus engaged, behold, up came the owner of the garden who, standing to witness the spectacle, enquired of them, “What do ye with this tree?” They replied, “We have taken naught thereof, but we were passing by and seeing yonder Boy on the tree, took him for the owner thereof and besought him to give us to eat of the fruit. thereat he fell to shaking one of the branches so that the nuts dropped down, and we are not at fault.” Quoth the master to the Boy, “What sayst thou?”; and quoth he, “These men lie, but I will tell thee the truth. It is that we all came hither together and they bade me climb the tree and shake its boughs that the nuts might fall down to them, and I obeyed their bidding.” Said the master, “Thou hast cast thyself into sore calamity, but hast thou profited by eating aught of the fruit?”; and he said, “I have eaten naught thereof.” Rejoined the owner of the garden, “Now know I thy folly and thine ignorance in that thou hast wrought to ruin thyself and profit others.” Then said he to the Thieves, “I have no resort against you, so wend your ways!” But he laid hands on the Boy and punished him. “On likewise,” added the favourite, “thy Wazirs and Officers of state would sacrifice thee to their interests and do with thee as did the Thieves with the Boy.” Answered the King, “Thou sayst sooth, and speakest truth. I will not go forth to them nor leave my pleasures.” Then he passed the night with his wife in all delight till the morning, when the Grand Wazir arose and, assembling the Officers of state, together with those of the lieges who were present with them, repaired with them to the palace-gate, congratulating one another and rejoicing. But the door opened not nor did the King come forth unto them nor give them leave to go in to him. So, when they despaired of him, they said to Shimas, “O excellent Wazir and accomplished sage, seest thou not the behaviour of this lad, young of years and little of wit, how he addeth to his offences falsehood? See how he hath broken his promise to us and hath not performed that for which he engaged unto us, and this sin it behoveth thee join unto his other sins; but we beseech thee go in to him yet again and discover what is the cause of his holding back and refusal to come forth, for we doubt not but that the like of this action cometh of his corrupt nature, and indeed he is now hardened to the highest degree.” Accordingly, Shimas went in to the King and bespake him, saying, “Peace be with thee, O King! How cometh it that I see thee give thyself up to these slight pleasures and neglect the great affair whereto it behoveth thee sedulously apply thyself? Thou art like unto a man who had a milch camel and, coming one day to milk her, the goodness of her milk made him neglect to hold fast her halter, which whenas she felt, she haled herself free and made off into the world. Thus the man lost both milk and camel and the loss that betided him surpassed his gain. Wherefore, O King, do thou look unto that wherein is thy welfare and the weal of thy subjects; for, even as it behoveth not a man to sit forever at the kitchen door, because of his need unto food, so should he not alway company with women, by reason of his inclination to them. And as a man should eat but as much food as will guard him from the pains of hunger and drink but what will ward off the pangs of thirst, in like manner it behoveth the sensible man to content himself with passing two of the four-and-twenty hours of his day with women and expend the rest in ordering his own affairs and those of his people. For to be longer than this in company with women is hurtful both to mind and body, seeing that they bid not unto good neither direct thereto; wherefore it besitteth not a man to accept from them or word or deed, for indeed it hath reached me that many men have come to ruin through their women, and amongst others a certain man who perished through conversation with his wife at her command.” The King asked, “How was that?” and Shimas answered, saying, “Hear, O King the tale of
They relate that a certain man had a wife whom he loved and honoured, giving ear to her speech and doing according to her rede. Moreover, he had a garden, which he had newly planted with his own hand and was wont to go thither every day, to tend it and water it. One day his wife asked him, “What hast thou planted in thy garden?”, and he answered, “All thou lovest and desirest, and I am assiduous in tending and watering it.” Quoth she, “Wilt thou not carry me thither and show it to me, so I may look upon it and offer thee up a pious prayer for its prosperity seeing that my orisons are effectual?” Quoth he, “I will well, but have patience with me till the morrow, when I will come and take thee.” So early on the ensuing day, he carried her to the garden which he entered with her. Now two young men saw them enter from afar and said each to other, “Yonder man is an adulterer and yonder woman an adulteress, and they have not entered this garden but to commit adultery.” Thereupon they followed the couple to see what they would do, and hid themselves in a corner of the garden. The man and his wife after entering abode awhile therein, and presently he said to her, “Pray me the prayer thou didst promise me;” but she replied, saying, “I will not pray for thee, until thou do away my desire of that which women seek from men.” Cried he, “Out on thee, O woman! Hast thou not thy fill of me in the house? Here I fear scandal, especially as thou divertest me from my affairs. Fearest thou not that someone will see us?” Quoth she, “We need have no care for that, seeing that we do neither sin nor lewdness; and, as for the watering of the garden, that may wait, because thou canst water it when thou wilt.” And she would take neither excuse nor reason from him, but was instant with him in seeking carnal coition. So he arose and lay with her, which when the young men aforesaid saw, they ran upon them and seized them,1 saying, “We will not let you go, for ye are adulterers, and except we have carnal knowledge of the woman, we will report you to the police.” Answered the man, “Fie upon you! This is my wife and I am the master of the garden.” They paid no heed to him, but fell upon the woman, who cried out to him for succour, saying, “Suffer them not to defile me!” Accordingly he came up to them, calling out for help; but one of them turned on him and smote him with his dagger and slew him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Good Moslems are bound to abate such scandals; and in a case of the kind even neighbours are expected to complain before the Chief of Police. This practice forms “Viligance Committees” all over the Mahommedan East: and we may take a leaf out of their books if dynamite-outrages continue.
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after slaying the husband the two young men returned to the wife and ravished her. “This I tell thee, O King,” continued the Wazir, “But that thou mayst know that it becometh not men to give ear unto a woman’s talk neither obey her in aught nor accept her judgment in counsel. Beware, then, lest thou don the dress of ignorance, after the robe of knowledge and wisdom, and follow perverse rede, after knowing that which is righteous and profitable. Wherefore pursue thou not a paltry pleasure, whose trending is to corruption and whose inclining is unto sore and uttermost perdition.” When the King heard this from Shimas he said to him, “To-morrow I will come forth to them, an it be the will of Allah the Most High.” So Shimas returned to the Grandees and Notables who were present and told them what the King had said. But this came to the ears of the favourite wife; whereupon she went in to the King and said to him, “The subjects of a King should be his slaves; but I see, O King, thou art become a slave to thy subjects, because thou standest in awe of them and fearest their mischief.1 They do but desire to make proof of thine inner man, and if they find thee weak, they will disdain thee; but, if they find thee stout and brave, they will dread thee. On this wise do ill Wazirs with their King, for that their wiles are many; but I will make manifest unto thee the truth of their malice. An thou comply with the conditions they demand, they will cause thee cease ruling and do their will; nor will they leave leading thee on from affair to affair, till they cast thee into destruction, and thy case will be as that of the Merchant and the Robbers.” Asked the King, “How was that?” and she answered, “I have heard tell this tale anent
1 But a Hadis, attributed to Mohammed, says, “The Prince of a people is their servant.” See Matth. xx. 26–27.
There was once a wealthy Merchant, who set out for a certain city purposing to sell merchandise there, and when he came thither, he hired him a lodging wherein he took up his abode. Now certain Robbers saw him, men wont to lie in wait for merchants, that they might rob their goods; so they went to his house and sought some device whereby to enter in, but could find no way thereto, and their Captain said, “I’ll manage you his matter.” Then he went away and, donning the dress of a leach, threw over his shoulder a bag containing somewhat of medicines, after which he set out crying, ‘Who lacks a doctor?’ and fared on till he came to the merchant’s lodging and him sitting eating the noon-day dinner. So he asked him, “Dost thou need thee a physician?”; and the trader answered, “I need naught of the kind, but sit thee down and eat with me.” The thief sat down facing him and began to eat. Now this merchant was a belle fourchette, and the Robber seeing this, said to himself, “I have found my chance.” Then he turned to his host and said to him, “’Tis but right for me to give thee an admonition, and after thy kindness to me, I cannot hide it from thee. I see thee to be a great eater and the cause of this is a disorder in thy stomach; wherefore unless thou take speedy measures for thy cure, thine affair will end in perdition.” Quoth the merchant, “My body is sound and my stomach speedy of digestion, and though I be a hearty eater, yet is there no disease in my body, to Allah be the praise and the thanks!” Quoth the Robber, “It may appear thus unto thee, but I know thou hast a disease incubating in thy vitals and if thou hearken to me, thou wilt medicine thyself.” The Merchant asked, “And where shall I find him who knoweth my remedy?”; and the Robber answered, “Allah is the Healer; but a physician like myself cureth the sick to the best of his power.” Then the other said, “Show me at once my remedy and give me thereof.” Hereupon he gave him a powder, wherein was a strong dose of aloes,1 saying, “Use this to-night;” and he accepted it gratefully. When the night came, the Merchant tasted somewhat of the powder and found it nauseous of gust; nevertheless he misdoubted not of it, but swallowed it all and therefrom found ease that night. Next night the thief brought him another powder, wherein was yet more aloes and he took it; it purged him that night, but he bore patiently with this and rejected it not. When the Robber saw that he gave ear unto his word and put trust in him nor would gainsay him in aught, he brought him a deadly drug2 and gave it to him. The Merchant swallowed it and no sooner had he done this than that which was in his stomach fell down and his bowels were rent in sunder, and by the morrow he was a dead man; whereupon the Robbers came and took all the merchandise and monies that belonged to him. “This I tell thee, O King,” added the favourite “but that thou mayst not accept one word from these deluders, else will there befal thee that whereby thou wilt destroy thyself.” Cried the King, “Thou sayst sooth. I will not go forth to them.” Now when the morning morrowed, the folk assembled together and repairing to the King’s door, sat there the most part of the day, till they despaired of his coming forth, when they returned to Shimas and said to him, “O sage philosopher and experienced master, seest thou not that this ignorant lad cloth naught but redouble in falsehood to us? Verily ’twere only reasonable and right to take the Kingdom from him and give it to another, so our affairs may be ordered and our estates maintained; but go thou in to him a third time and tell him that naught hindereth us from rising against him and taking the Kingship from him but his father’s goodness to us and that which he required from us of oaths and engagements. However, to-morrow, we will all, to the last of us, assemble here with our arms and break down the gate of the citadel3; and if he come forth to us and do that which we wish, no harm is yet done4, else we will go in to him and slay him and put the Kingdom in the hand of other than he.” So the Wazir Shimas went in to him and said, “O King, that grovellest in thy gusts and thy lusts, what is this thou dost with thyself? Would Heaven I wot who seduced thee thereto! An it be thou who sinnest against thyself, there hath ceased from thee that which we knew in thee aforetime of integrity and wisdom and eloquence. Could I but learn who hath thus changed thee and fumed thee from wisdom to folly and from fidelity to iniquity and from mildness to harshness and from acceptation of me to aversion from me! How cometh it that I admonish thee thrice and thou acceptest not mine admonition and that I counsel thee rightfully and stir thou gainsayest my counsel? Tell me, what is this child’s play and who is it prompteth thee thereunto? Know that the people of thy Kingdom have agreed together to come in to thee and slay thee and give thy Kingdom to another. Art able to cope with them all and save thyself from their hands or canst quicken thyself after being killed? If, indeed, thou be potent to do all this, thou art safe and hast no occasion for my rede; but an thou have any concern for thy life and thy kingship, return to thy sound sense and hold fast thy reign and show forth to the folk the power of thy prowess and persuade the people with thine excuse, for they are minded to tear away that which is in thy hand and commit it unto other, being resolved upon revolt and rebellion, led thereto by that which they know of thy youth and thy self-submission to love-liesse and lusts; for that stones, albeit they lie long underwater, an thou withdraw them therefrom and smite one upon other, fire will be struck from them. Now thy lieges are many folk and they have taken counsel together against thee, with a design to transfer the Kingship from thee to another and accomplish upon thee whatso they desire of thy destruction. So shalt thou fare as did the Jackals with the Wolf.”—— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Easterns are well aware of the value of this drug which has become the base of so many of our modern medicines.
2 The strangest poison is mentioned by Sonnini who, as a rule, is a trustworthy writer. Noticing the malignity of Egyptian women he declares (p. 628, English trans.) that they prepare a draught containing a quant. suff. of menstruous discharge at certain phases of the moon, which produces symptoms of scurvy; the gums decay, the teeth, beard and hair fall off, the body dries, the limbs lose strength and death follows within a year. He also asserts that no counterpoison is known and if this be true he confers a boon upon the Locustæ and Brinvilliers of modern Europe. In Morocco “Ta’am” is the vulgar name for a mixture of dead men’s bones, eyes, hair and similar ingredients made by old wives and supposed to cause a wasting disease for which the pharmacopoeia has no cure. Dogs are killed by needles cunningly inserted into meat-balls; and this process is known through out the Moslem world.
3 Which contained the Palace.
4 Arab. “Lá baas.” See Night vol. iv. 164.
She pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir Shimas concluded with saying, “And they shall accomplish upon thee whatso they desire of thy destruction; so shalt thou fare as fared the Jackals with the Wolf.” Asked the King, “How was that?” and the Wazir answered, “They tell the following tale of
A pack of Jackals1 went out one day to seek food, and as they prowled about in quest of this, behold, they happened upon a dead camel and said in themselves, “Verily we have found wherewithal we may live a great while; but we fear lest one of us oppress the other and the strong bear down the weak with his strength and so the puny of us perish. Wherefore it behoveth us seek one who shall judge between us and appoint unto each his part, so the force full may not lord it over the feeble.” As they consulted together on such subject, suddenly up came a Wolf, and one of the Jackals said to the others, “Right is your rede; let us make this Wolf judge between us, for he is the strongest of beasts and his father was Sultan over us aforetime; so we hope in Allah that he will do justice between us.” Accordingly they accosted the Wolf and acquainting him with what they had resolved concerning him said, “We make thee judge between us, so thou mayst allot unto each of us his day’s meat, after the measure of his need, lest the strong of us bear down the weak and some of us destroy other of us.” The Wolf accepted the governance of their affairs and allotted to each of them what sufficed him that day; but on the morrow he said in his mind, “An I divide this camel amongst these weaklings, no part thereof will come to me, save the pittance they will assign to me, and if I eat it alone, they can do me no harm, seeing that they are a prey to me and to the people of my house. Who, then, is the one to hinder me from taking it all for myself? Surely, ’tis Allah who hath bestowed it on me by way of provision without any obligation to any of them. It were best that I keep it for myself, and henceforth I will give them naught.” Accordingly, next morning when the Jackals came to him, as was their wont, and sought of him their food, saying, “O Abu Sirhán,2 give us our day’s provender,3” he answered saying, “I have nothing left to give you.” Whereupon they went away in the sorriest plight, saying, “Verily, Allah hath cast us into grievous trouble with this foul traitor, who regardeth not Allah nor feareth Him; but we have neither stratagem nor strength on our side.” Moreover one of them said, “Haply ’twas but stress of hunger that moved him to this, so let him eat his fill to-day, and to-morrow we will go to him again.” Accordingly, on the morrow, they again betook themselves to the Wolf and said to him, “O Father of Foray, we gave thee authority over us, that thou mightest apportion unto each of us his day’s meat and do the weak justice against the strong of us, and that, when this provaunt is finished, thou shouldst do thine endeavour to get us other and so we be always under thy watch and ward. Now hunger is hard upon us, for that we have not eaten these two days; so do thou give us our day’s ration and thou shalt be free to dispose of all that remaineth as thou wilt.” But the Wolf returned them no answer and redoubled in his hardness of heart and when they strave to turn him from his purpose he would not be turned. Then said one of the Jackals to the rest, “Nothing will serve us but that we go to the Lion and cast ourselves on his protection and assign unto him the camel. If he vouchsafe us aught thereof, ’twill be of his favour, and if not, he is worthier of it than this scurvy rascal.” So they betook themselves to the Lion and acquainted him with that which had betided them from the Wolf, saying, “We are thy slaves and come to thee imploring thy protection, so thou mayst deliver us from this Wolf, and we will be thy thralls.” When the Lion heard their story, he was jealous for Almighty Allah4 and went with them in quest of the Wolf who, seeing him approach addressed himself to flight; but the Lion ran after him and seizing him, rent him in pieces and restored their prey to the Jackals. “This showeth,” added Shimas, “that it fitteth no King to neglect the affairs of his subjects; wherefore do thou hearken to my rede and give credit to the words which I say to thee.” Quoth the King, “I will hearken to thee and to-morrow, Inshallah, I will go forth to them.” Accordingly Shimas went from him and returning to the folk, told them that the King had accepted his advice and promised to come out unto them on the morrow. But, when the favourite heard this saying reported of Shimas and was certified that needs must the King go forth to his subjects, she betook herself to him in haste and said to him, “How great is my wonder at thy submissiveness and thine obedience to thy slaves! Knowest thou not that these Wazirs are thy thralls? Why then dost thou exalt them to this highmost pitch of importance that they imagine them it was they gave thee this kingship and advanced thee to this rank and that it is they who confer favours on thee, albeit they have no power to do thee the least damage? Indeed, ’tis not thou who owest submission to them; but on the contrary they owe it to thee, and it is their duty to carry out thine orders. How cometh it then, that thou art so mightily Frighted at them? It is said, ‘Unless thy heart be like iron, thou art not fit to be a Sovran.’ But thy mildness hath deluded these men, so that they presume upon thee and cast off their allegiance, although it behoveth that they be constrained unto thy obedience and enforced to thy submission. therefore an thou hasten to accept their words and leave them as they now are and vouchsafe to them the least thing against thy will, they will weigh heavily upon thee and require other concessions of thee, and this will become their habit. But, an thou hearken to me, thou wilt not advance any one of them to power neither wilt thou accept his word nor encourage him to presume upon thee, else wilt thou fare with them as did the Shepherd with the Rogue.” Asked the King, “How was that?” and she answered, “They relate this adventure of
1 For Ta’lab (Sa’lab) see supra, p. 48. In Morocco it is undoubtedly the red or common fox which, however, is not gregarious as in the text.
2 See vol. iii. 146.
3 Arab. “Muunah” which in Morocco applies to the provisions furnished gratis by the unfortunate village-people to travellers who have a passport from the Sultan. its root is Maun =supplying necessaries. “The name is supposed to have its origin in that of Manna the miraculous provision bestowed by the bounty of Heaven on the Israelites while wandering in the deserts of Arabia.” Such is the marvellous information we find in p. 40, “Morocco and the Moors” by John Drummond Hay (Murray, 1861)
4 i.e. He resolved to do them justice and win a reward from Heaven.
There was once a Shepherd, who fed a flock of sheep in the wold and kept over them strait watch. One night, there came to him a Rogue thinking to steal some of his charges and, finding him assiduous in guarding them, sleeping not by night nor neglecting them by day, prowled about him all the livelong night, but could plunder nothing from him. So, when he was weary of striving, he betook himself to another part of the waste and trapping a lion, skinned him and stuffed his hide with bruised straw2, after which he set it up on a high place in the desert, where the Shepherd might see it and be assured thereof. Then he accosted the Shepherd and said to him, “Yonder lion hath sent me to demand his supper of these sheep.” The Shepherd asked, “Where is the lion?” and the Rogue answered, “Lift thine eyes; there he standeth.” So the Shepherd raised his eyes and, seeing the semblance, deemed it a very lion and was much Frighted; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Shepherd saw the semblance of the lion, he deemed it a very lion and was Frighted with the sorest fright, trembling for dread so he said to the thief, “O my brother take what thou wilt, I will not gainsay thee.” Accordingly the Rogue took what he would of the sheep and redoubled in greed by reason of the excess of the Shepherd’s fear. Accordingly, every little while, he would hie to him and terrify him, saying, “The lion hath need of this and requireth that, and his intent is to do thus and thus,” and take his sufficiency of the sheep; and he stinted not to do thus with him, till he had wasted the most part of his flock. “This, O King,” added the favourite, “I tell thee only that thou suffer not the Grandees of thy realm to be deluded by thy mildness and easiness of temper and presume on thee; and, in right rede, their death were better than that they deal thus with thee.” Quoth the King, “I accept this thy counsel and will not hearken to their admonition neither will I go out unto them.” On the morrow the Wazirs and Officers of State and heads of the people assembled; and, taking each with him his weapon, repaired to the palace of the King, so they might break in upon him and slay him and seat another in his stead. When they came to the door, they required the doorkeeper to open to them; but he refused, whereupon they sent to fetch fire, wherewith to burn down the doors and enter. The doorkeeper, hearing what they said went in to the King in haste and told him that the folk were gathered together at the gate, adding, “They required me to open to them, but I refused; and they have sent to fetch fire to burn down the doors withal, so they may come into thee and slay thee. What dost thou bid me do?” Quoth the King in himself, “Verily, I am fallen into uttermost perdition.” Then he sent for the favourite; and, as soon as she came, said to her, “Indeed, Shimas never told me aught but I found it true, and now great and small are coming purposing to slay me and thee; and because the doorkeeper would not open to them, they have sent to fetch fire, to burn the doors withal; so will the house be burnt and we therein. What dost thou counsel me to do?” She replied, “No harm shall betide thee, nor let thine affair affright thee. This is a time when the simple rise against their Kings.” Quoth he, “What dost thou counsel me to do and how shall I act in this affair?” Quoth she, “My rede is that thou fillet thy head and feign thyself sick; then send for the Wazir Shimas, who will come and see the plight wherein thou art; and do thou say to him, ‘Verily I purposed to go forth to the folk this day; but this malady hindered me. So go thou out to them and acquaint them with my condition and tell them that to-morrow I will fare forth without fail to them and do their need and look into their affairs, so they may be reassured and their rage may subside.’ Then do thou summon ten of thy father’s slaves, stalwart men of strength and prowess, to whom thou canst entrust thyself, hearing to thy hest and complying with thy commandment, surely keeping thy secret and fief to thy love; and charge them on the morrow to stand at thy head and bid them suffer none of the folk to enter, save one by one; and all who enter do thou say, ‘Seize them and do them die.’ An they agree with thee upon this, to-morrow set up thy throne in the Divan1 and open thy doors. When the folk see that thou hast opened to them, their minds will be set at ease and they will come to thee with a whole heart and seek admission to thee. Then do thou admit them, one after one, even as I said to thee and work with them thy will, but it behoveth thee begin by slaying Shimas, their chief and leader, for he is the Grand Wazir and head of the matter. Therefore do him die first and after put all the rest to death, one after other, and spare none whom thou knowest to have broken with thee his covenant; and in like way slaughter all whose violence thou fearest. An thou deal thus with them, there will be left them no power to make head against thee; so shalt thou be at rest from them with full repose, and shalt enjoy thy kingship in peace and do whatso thou wilt, and know that there is no device that will profit thee more than this.” Quoth the King, “Verily, this thy counsel is just and that which thou biddest me is to the point and I will assuredly do as thou directest.” So he called for a fillet and bound his head therewith and shammed sickness. Then he sent for the Grand Wazir and said to him, “O Shimas, thou knowest that I love thee and hearken to the counsel of thee and thou art to me as brother and father both in one; also thou knowest that I do all thou biddest me and indeed thou badest me go forth to the lieges and sit to judge between them. Now I was assured that this was right rede on thy part, and purposed to go forth to them yesterday; but this sickness assailed me and I cannot sit up. It hath reached me that the folk are incensed at my failure to come forth to them and are minded of their mischief to do with me that which is unmeet for that they know not what ailment aileth me. So go thou forth to them and acquaint them with my case and the condition I am in, and excuse me to them, for I am obedient to their bidding and will do as they desire; wherefore order this affair and engage thyself for me herefor, even as thou hast been a loyal counsellor to me and to my sire before me, and it is of thy wont to make peace between the people. To-morrow, Inshallah, I will without fail come forth to them, and peradventure my sickness will cease from me this night, by the blessing of the purest intent and the good I purpose them in my heart.” So Shimas prostrated himself to Allah and called down blessings on the King and kissed his hand, rejoicing at this. Then he went forth to the folk and told them what he had heard from the King and forbade them from that which they had a mind to do, acquainting them with what excused the King for his absence and informing them that he had promised to come forth to them on the morrow and deal with them according to their desires; whereupon they dispersed and tried them to their houses. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 A fanciful origin of “Díván” (here an audience-chamber) which may mean demons (plural of Dív) is attributed to a King of Persia. He gave a series of difficult documents and accounts to his scribes and surprised at the quickness and cleverness with which they were ordered exclaimed, “These men be Divs!” Hence a host of secondary meanings as a book of Odes with distichs rhymed in alphabetical order and so forth.
She said: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shimas went from the presence to the ringleaders of the commons and said to them, “To-morrow the Sovran will come forth to you and will deal with you as ye desire.” So they tried them to their homes. On such wise fared it with them; but as regards the Monarch, he summoned ten slaves of gigantic stature,1 men of hard heart and prow of prowess, whom he had chosen from amongst his father’s body guard, and said to them, “Ye know the favour, esteem and high rank ye held with my sire and all the bounties, benefits and honours he bestowed on you, and I will advance you to yet higher dignity with me than this. Now I will tell you the reason thereof and ye are under safeguard of Allah from me. But first I will ask you somewhat, wherein if ye do my desire, obeying me in that which I shall bid you and conceal my secret from all men, ye shall have of me largesse and favour surpassing expectation. But above all things obedience!” The ten thralls answered him with one mouth and in sequent words, saying, “Whatso thou biddest us, O our liege, that we will do, nor will we depart in aught from thy commandment, for thou art our lord and master.” Quoth the King, “Allah allot you weal! Now will I tell you the reason why I have chosen you out for increase of honour with me. Ye know how liberally my father dealt with the folk of his realm and the oath he took from them on behalf of me and how they promised him that they would break faith with me nor gainsay the bidding of me; and ye saw how they did yesterday, whenas they gathered all together about me and would have slain me. Now I am minded to do with them somewhat; and ’tis this, for that I have considered their action of yesterday and see that naught will restrain them from its like save exemplary chastisement; wherefore I perforce charge you privily to do to death whom I shall point out to you, to the intent that I may ward off mischief and calamity from my realm by slaying their leaders and Chiefs; and the manner thereof shall be on this wise. To-morrow I will sit on this seat in this chamber and give them admission to me one by one, coming in at one door and going out at another; and do ye, all ten, stand before me and be attentive to my signs; and whoso entereth singly, take him and drag him into yonder chamber and kill him and hide his corpse.” The slaves answered, “We hearken to thy hest and obey thy order.” Whereupon he gave them gifts and dismissed them for the night. On the morrow he summoned the thralls and bade set up the royal seat; then he donned his kingly robes and taking the Book of law-cases2 in his hands, posted the ten slaves before him and commanded to open the doors. So they opened the doors and the herald proclaimed aloud, saying, “Whoso hath authority, let him come to the King’s carpet3!” Whereupon up came the Wazirs and Prefects and Chamberlains and stood, each in his rank. Then the King bade admit them, one after one, and the first to enter was Shimas, according to the custom of the Grand Wazir; but no sooner had he presented himself before the King, and ere he could beware, the ten slaves get about him, and dragging him into the adjoining chamber, despatched him. On likewise did they with the rest of the Wazirs and Olema and Notables, slaying them, one after other, till they made a clean finish.4 Then the King called the headsmen and bade them ply sword upon all who remained of the folk of velour and stowre; so they fell on them and left none whom they knew for a man of mettle but they slew him, sparing only the proletaires and the refuse of the people. These they drove away and they returned each to his folk, whilst the King secluded himself with his pleasures and surrendered his soul to its lusts, working tyranny, oppression and violence, till he outraced all the men of evil who had forerun him.5 Now this King’s dominion was a mine of gold and silver and jacinths and jewels and the neighbouring rulers, one and all, envied him this empire and looked for calamity to betide him. Moreover, one of them, the King of Outer Hind, said in himself, “I have gotten my desire of wresting the realm from the hand of yonder silly lad, by reason of that which hath betided of his slaughter of the Chiefs of his State and of all men of velour and mettle that were in his country. This is my occasion to snatch away that which is in his hand, seeing he is young in years and hath no knowledge of war nor judgment thereto, nor is there any left to counsel him aright or succour him. Wherefore this very day will I open on him the door of mischief by writing him a writ wherein I will flyte him and reproach him with that which he hath done and see what he will reply.” So he indited him a letter to the following effect,
“In the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate!
And after I have heard tell of that which thou hast done with thy Wazirs and Olema and men of valiancy and that whereinto thou hast cast thyself of calamity so that there is neither power nor strength left in thee to repel whoso shall assail thee, more by token that thou transgressest and orderest thyself tyrannously and profligately
Now Allah hath assuredly given me the conquering of thee and the mastery over thee and into my hand hath delivered thee; wherefore do thou give ear to my word and obey the commandment of me and build me an impregnable castle amiddlemost the sea
An thou cannot do this, depart thy realm and with thy life go flee for I will send unto thee, from the farthest ends of Hind, twelve hordes6 of horse, each twelve thousand fighting men strong, who shall enter thy land and spoil thy goods and slay thy men and carry thy women into captivity.
Moreover, I will make my Wazir, Badi’a captain over them and bid him lay strait siege to thy capital till the master he be; and I have bidden the bearer of this letter that he tarry with thee but days three.
So, an thou do my demand, thou shalt be saved; else will I send that which I have said unto thee.”
Then he sealed the scroll and gave it to a messenger, who journeyed with it till he came to the capital of Wird Khan and delivered it to him.
When the King read it, his strength failed him, his breast waxed strait and he made sure of destruction, having none to whom he might resort for aid or advice. Presently he rose and went in to his favourite wife who, seeing him changed of colour, said to him, “What mattereth thee, O King?” Quoth he, “This day I am no King but slave to the King.” And he opened the letter and read it to her, whereupon she fell to weeping and wailing and rending her raiment. Then he asked her, “Hast thou aught of rede or resource in this grievous strait?”; but she answered, “Women have no resource in time of war, nor have women any strength or aught of counsel. ’Tis men alone who in like of this affair have force and discourse and resource.” When the King heard her words, there befel him the utmost regret and repentance and remorse for that he had transgressed against his Wazirs and Officers and Lords of his land — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 In both cases the word “Jabábirah” is used, the plur. of Jabbár, the potent, especially applied to the Kings of the Canaanites and giants like the mythical Og of Bashan. So the Heb. Jabbúrah is a title of the Queens of Judah.
2 Arab. “Kitáb al-Kazá”= the Book of Judgments, such as the Kazi would use when deciding cases in dispute, by legal precedents and the Rasm or custom of the country.
3 i.e. sit before the King as referee, etc.
4 This massacre of refractory chiefs is one of the grand moyens of Eastern state-craft, and it is almost always successful because circumstances require it; popular opinion approves of it and it is planned and carried out with discretion and secrecy. The two familiar instances in our century are the massacre of the Mamelukes by Mohammed Ali Pasha the Great and of the turbulent chiefs of the Omani Arabs by our ancient ally Sayyid Sa’íd, miscalled the “Imám of Maskat.”
5 The metaphor (Sabaka) is from horse-racing, the Arabs being, I have said, a horsey people.
6 Arab. “Kurdús” = A body of horse.
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King Wird Khan heard the words of his favourite wife there befel him the utmost regret and repentance for having transgressed against and slain his Wazirs and the chiefs of his state, and he would that he had died ere there came to him the like of these shameful tidings. Then he said to his women, “Verily, there hath betided me from you that which befel the Francolin and the Tortoises.” Asked they, “What was that?”; and he answered, Men tell this tale of
It is said that sundry Tortoises dwelt once in a certain island abounding in trees and fruiterers and rills, and it fortuned, one day, that a Francolin, passing over the island, was overcome with the fiery heat and fatigue and being in grievous suffering stayed his flight therein. Presently, looking about for a cool place, he espied the resort of the Tortoises and alighted down near their home. Now they were then abroad foraging for food, and when they returned from their feeding places to their dwelling, they found the Francolin there. His beauty pleased them and Allah made him lovely in their eyes, so that they exclaimed “Subhána ‘lláh,” extolling their Creator and loved the Francolin with exceeding love and rejoiced in him, saying one to other, “Forsure this is of the goodliest of the birds;” and all began to caress him and entreat him with kindness. When he saw that they looked on him with eyes of affection, he inclined to them and companioned with them and took up his abode with them, flying away in the morning whither he would and returning at eventide to pass the night by side of them. On this wise he continued a long while until the Tortoises, seeing that his daily absence from them desolated them and finding that they never saw him save by night (for at dawn he still took flight in haste and they knew not what came of him, for all that their love grew to him), said each to other, “Indeed, we love this Francolin and he is become our true friend and we cannot bear parting from him, so how shall we devise some device tending to make him abide with us always? For he flieth away at dawn and is absent from us all day and we see him not save by night.” Quoth one of them, “Be easy, O my sisters; I will bring him not to leave us for the turn of an eye?” and quoth the rest, saying, “An thou do this, we will all be thy thralls.” So, when the Francolin came back from his feeding place and sat down amongst them, that wily Tortoise drew near unto him and called down blessings on him, giving him joy of his safe return and saying, “O my lord, know that Allah hath vouch-safed thee our love and hath in like manner set in thy heart the love of us, whereby thou art become to us a familiar friend and a comrade in this desert. Now the goodliest of times for those who love one another is when they are united and the sorest of calamities for them are absence and severance. But thou departest from us at peep of day and returnest not to us till sundown, wherefore there betideth us extreme desolation. Indeed this is exceeding grievous to us and we abide in sore longing for such reason.” The Francolin replied, “Indeed, I love you also and yearn for you yet more than you can yearn for me, nor is it easy for me to leave you; but my hand hath no help for this, seeing that I am a fowl with wings and may not wone with you always, because that is not of my nature. For a bird, being a winged creature, may not remain still, save it be for the sake of sleep o’ nights; but, as soon as it is day, he flieth away and seeketh his morning-meal in what place soever pleaseth him.” Answered the Tortoise, “Sooth thou speakest! Nevertheless he who hath wings hath no repose at most seasons, for that the good he getteth is not a fourth part of what ill betideth him, and the highmost aims of the creature are repose and ease of life. Now Allah hath bred between us and thee love and fellowship and we fear for thee, lest some of thine enemies catch thee and thou perish and we be denied the sight of thy countenance.” Rejoined the Francolin, “True! But what rede hast thou or resource for my case?” Quoth the Tortoise, “My advice is that thou pluck out thy wing-feathers, wherewith thou speedest thy flight, and tarry with us in tranquillity, eating of our meat and drinking of our drink in this pasturage, that aboundeth in trees rife with fruits yellow-ripe and we will sojourn, we and thou, in this fruitful stead and enjoy the company of one another.” The Francolin inclined to her speech, seeking ease for himself, and plucked out his wing-feathers, one by one, in accordance with the rede approved of by the Tortoise; then he took up his abode with them and contented himself with the little ease and transient pleasure he enjoyed. Presently up came a Weasel1 and glancing at the Francolin, saw that his wings were plucked, so that he could not fly, whereat he rejoiced with joy exceeding and said to himself, “Verily yonder Francolin is fat of flesh and scant of feather.” So he went up to him and seized him, whereupon the Francolin called out to the Tortoises for help; but when they saw the Weasel rend him, they drew apart from him and huddled together, choked with weeping for him, for they witnessed how the beast tortured him. Quoth the Francolin, “Is there aught with you but weeping?”; and quoth they, “O our brother, we have neither force nor resource nor any course against a Weasel.” At this the Francolin was grieved and cutting off all his hopes of life said to them, “The fault is not yours, but mine own fault, in that I hearkened to you and plucked out my wing-feathers wherewith I used to fly. Indeed I deserve destruction for having obeyed you, and I blame you not in aught.” “On like wise,” continued the King, “I do not blame you, O women; but I blame and reproach myself for that I remembered not that ye were the cause of the transgression of our father Adam, by reason whereof he was cast out from the Garden of Eden, and for that I forgot ye are the root of all evil and hearkened to you, in mine ignorance, lack of sense and weakness of judgment, and slew my Wazirs and the Governors of my State, who were my loyal advisers in all mine actions and my glory and my strength against whatsoever troubled me. But at this time find I not one to replace them nor see I any who shall stand me in their stead, and I fall into utter perdition.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ibn ‘Irs.” See vol. iii. 147.
She pursued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King blamed himself saying, “’Twas I that hearkened to you in mine ignorance and slew my Wazirs so that now I find none to stand in their stead, and unless Allah succour me with one of sound judgment, who shall guide me to that wherein is my deliverance, I am fallen into utter perdition.” Then he arose and withdrew into his bedchamber, bemoaning his Wazirs and wise men and saying, “Would Heaven those lions were with me at this time, though but for an hour; so I might excuse myself unto them and look on them and bemoan to them my case and the travail that hath betided me after them!” And he abode all his day sunken in the sea of cark and care neither eating nor drinking. But as soon as the night fell dark, he arose and changing his raiment, donned old clothes and disguised himself and went forth at a venture to walk about the city, so haply he might hear from any some word of comfort. As he wandered about the main streets, behold, he chanced upon two boys who had sought a retired seat by a wall and he observed that they were equal in age, or about twelve years old. As they talked together he drew near them whereas he might hear and apprehend what they said, unseen of them, and heard one say to the other, “Listen, O my brother, to what my sire told me yesternight of the calamity which hath betided him in the withering of his crops before their time, by reason of the rarity of rain and the sore sorrow that is fallen on this city.” Quoth the other, “Wottest thou not the cause of this affliction?”; and quoth the first, “No! and, if thou ken it pray tell it me.” Rejoined the other, “Yes, I wot it and will tell it thee. Know that I have heard from one of my father’s friends that our King slew his Wazirs and Grandees, not for aught of offence done of them, but only by reason of his love for women and inclination to them; for that his Ministers forbade him from this, but he would not be forbidden and commanded to do them die in obedience to his wives. Thus he slew Shimas my sire, who was his Wazir and the Wazir of his father before him and the chief of his council; but right soon thou shalt see how Allah will do with him by reason of his sins against them and how He shall avenge them of him.” The other boy asked, “What can Allah do now that they are dead?”; and his fellow answered, “Know that the King of Outer Hind1 maketh light of our monarch, and hath sent him a letter berating him and saying to him, ‘Build me a castle amiddlemost the sea, or I will send unto thee Badi’a my Wazir, with twelve hordes of horse, each twelve thousand strong, to seize upon thy kingdom and slay thy men and carry thee and thy women into captivity.’ And he hath given him three days’ time to answer after the receipt of that missive. Now thou must know, O my brother, that this King of Outer Hind is a masterful tyrant, a man of might and prowess in fight, and in his realm are much people; so unless our King made shift to fend him off from himself, he will fall into perdition, whilst the King of Hind, after slaying our Sovran, will seize on our possessions and massacre our men and make prize of our women.” When the King heard this their talk, his agitation increased and he inclined to the boys, saying, “Surely, this boy is a wizard, in that he is acquainted with this thing without learning it from me; for the letter is in my keeping and the secret also and none hath knowledge of such matter but myself. How then knoweth this boy of it? I will resort to him and talk with him and I pray Allah that our deliverance may be at his hand.” Hereupon the King approached the boy softly and said to him, “O thou dear boy, what is this thou sayest of our King, that he did ill of the evilest in slaying his Wazirs and the Chiefs of his State? Indeed he sinned against himself and his subjects and thou art right in that which thou sayest. But tell me, O my son, whence knowest thou that the King of Outer Hind hath written him a letter, berating him and bespeaking him with the grievous speech whereof thou tellest?” The boy replied, “O brother, I know this from the sand2 wherewith I take compt of night and day and from the saying of the ancients, ‘No mystery from Allah is hidden; for the sons of Adam have in them a spiritual virtue which discovereth to them the darkest secrets.’” Answered Wird Khan, “True, O my son, but whence learnedest thou geomancy and thou young of years?” Quoth the boy, “My father taught it me;” and quoth the King, “Is thy father alive or dead?” “He is dead,” replied the boy. Then Wird Khan asked, “Is there any resource or device for our King, whereby to ward off from himself and his kingdom this sore calamity?” And the boy answered, saying, “It befitteth not that I speak with thee of this; but, an the King send for me and ask me how he shall do to baffle his foe and get free of his snares, I will acquaint him with that wherein, by the power of Allah Almighty, shall be his salvation.” Rejoined Wird Khan, “But who shall tell the King of this that he may send for thee and invite thee to him?” The boy retorted, “I hear that he seeketh men of experience and good counsel, so I will go up with them to him and tell him that wherein shall be his welfare and the warding off of this affliction from him; but, an he neglect the pressing matter and busy himself with his love-liesse among his women and I go to him of my own accord designing to acquaint him with the means of deliverance, he will assuredly give orders to slay me, even as he slew those his Wazirs, and my courtesy to him will be the cause of my destruction. Wherefore the folk will think slightly of me and belittle my wit and I shall be of those of whom it is said, ‘He whose science excelleth his sense perisheth by his ignorance.’” When the King heard the boy’s words, he was assured of his sagacity, and the excellence of his merit was manifest and he was certified that deliverance would betide him and his subjects at the boy’s hands. So presently he resumed the colloquy and asked him, “Whence art thou and where is thy home?”; and the boy answered, “This is the wall of our house.” The King took note of the place and farewelling the boy, returned to his palace in high spirits. there he changed his clothes and called for meat and wine, forbidding his women from him; and he ate and drank and returned thanks to Allah the Most High and besought Him of succour and deliverance, and he craved His pardon and forgiveness for that which he had done with his Wazirs and Olema and turned to Him with sincere repentance, imposing on himself many a prayer and long fasting, by way of discipline-vow. On the morrow, he called one of his confidential eunuchs and, describing to him the boy’s home, bade him repair thither and bring him to his presence with all gentleness. Accordingly the slave sought out the boy and said to him, “The King summoneth thee, that good may betide thee from him and that he may ask thee a question; then shalt thou return safe and sound to thy dwelling.” Asked the boy, “What is the King’s need of me that he biddeth me to him on this wise?”, and the eunuch answered, “My lord’s occasion with thee is question and answer.” “A thousand times hearkening and a thousand times obeying the commandment of the King!” replied the boy and accompanied the slave to the palace. When he came into the presence, he prostrated himself before Allah and after salaming, called down blessings on the King who returned his salutation and bade him be seated. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al Hind-al-Aksá.” The Sanskrit Sindhu (lands on the Indus River) became in Zend “Hendu” and hence in Arabic Sind and Hind, which latter I wish we had preserved instead of the classical “India” or the poetical “Ind.”
2 i.e. by geomancy: see vol. iii. 269 for a note on Al–Raml. The passage is not in the Mac. Edit.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the boy appeared before the King and saluted him with the salam, Wird Khan returned his salutation and bade him be seated. So he sat down and the King asked him, “Knowest thou who talked with thee yesternight?” Answered the boy, “Yes,” and the King said, “And where is he?” “’Tis he who speaketh with me at this present,” said the boy. Rejoined the King, “Thou sayst sooth, O friend,” and bade set him a chair beside his own, whereon he made him sit and called for meat and drink. Then they talked awhile and the King said, “Ho, thou the Wazir,1 in our talk yesternight thou toldest me that thou hadst a device whereby thou couldst defend us from the malice of the King of Hind. What is this contrivance and how shall we manoeuvre to ward off his mischief from us? Tell me, that I may make thee chief of those who speak with me in the realm and choose thee to be my Grand Wazir and do according to thy judgment in all thou counsellest me and assign thee a splendid honorarium.” Answered the boy, “O King, keep thy honorarium to thyself and seek counsel and policy of thy women, who directed thee to slay my father Shimas and the rest of the Wazirs.” When the King heard this, he was ashamed and sighed and said, “O thou dear boy, was Shimas indeed thy sire?” The boy replied, “Shimas was indeed my sire, and I am in truth his son.” Whereupon the King bowed his head, whilst the tears ran from his eyes, and he craved pardon of Allah. Then said he, “O boy, indeed I did this of my ignorance and by the evil counsel of the women, for ‘Great indeed is their malice’2; but I beseech thee to forgive me and I will set thee in thy father’s stead and make thy rank higher than his rank. Moreover, an thou do away from us this retribution sent down from Heaven, I will deck thy neck with a collar of gold and mount thee on the goodliest of steeds and bid the crier make proclamation before thee, saying, ‘This is the lief3 boy, the Wazir who sitteth in the second seat after the King!’ And touching what thou sayest of the women, I have it in mind to do vengeance on them at such time as Almighty Allah shall will it. But tell me now what thou hast with thee of counsel and contrivance, that my heart may be content.” Quoth the boy, “Swear to me an oath that thou wilt not gainsay me in whatso I shall say to thee and that I from that which I fear shall be safe,” and quoth the King, “This is the covenant of Allah between me and thee, that I will not go from thy word and that thou shalt be my chief counsellor and whatsoever thou biddest me, that will I do; and the Almighty Lord is witness betwixt us twain whatso I say.” therewith the boy’s breast waxed broad and the field of speech was opened to him wide and he said, “O King, my rede to thee is that thou await the expiration of the delay appointed to thee for answering the courier of the King of Hind, and when he cometh before thee seeking the reply, do thou put him off to another day. With this he will excuse himself to thee, on the ground of his master having appointed him certain fixed days, and importune for an answer; but do thou rebut him and defer him to another day, without specifying what day it be. Then will he go forth from thee an angered and betake himself into the midst of the city and speak openly among the folk, saying, ‘O people of the city, I am a courier of the King of Outer Hind, who is a monarch of great puissance and of determination such as softeneth iron. He sent me with a letter to the King of this city appointing to me certain days, saying, ‘An thou be not with me by the time appointed, my vengeance shall fall on thee.’ Now, behold, I went in to the King of this city and gave him the missive, which when he had read, he sought of me a delay of three days, after which he would return me an answer to the letter, and I agreed to this of courtesy and consideration for him. When the three days were past, I went to seek the reply of him, but he delayed me to another day; and now I have no patience to wait longer; so I am about to return to my lord, the King of Outer Hind, and acquaint him with that which hath befallen me; and ye, O folk, are witnesses between me and him.’ All this will be reported to thee and do thou send for him and speak him gently and say to him, ‘O thou who seekest thine own ruin, what hath moved thee to blame us among our subjects? Verily, thou deservest present death at our hands; but the ancients say, ‘Clemency is of the attributes of nobility.’ Know that our delay in answering arose not from helplessness on our part, but from our much business and lack of leisure to look into thine affair and write a reply to thy King.’ Then call for the scroll and read it again and laugh loud and long and say to the courier, ‘Hast thou a letter other than this? If so, we will write thee an answer to that also.’ He will say, ‘I have none other than this letter’; but do thou repeat thy question to him a second time and a third time, and he will reply, ‘I have none other at all.’ Then say to him, ‘Verily, this thy King is utterly witless in that he writeth us the like of this writ seeking to arouse our wrath against him, so that we shall go forth to him with our forces and domineer over his dominions and capture his kingdom. But we will not punish him this time for his unmannerly manners as shown in this letter, because he is wanting in wit and feeble of foresight, and it beseemeth our dignity that we first warn him not to repeat the like of these childish extravagances, and if he risk his life by returning to the like of this, he will deserve speedy destruction. Indeed, methinks this King of thine who sent thee on such errand must be an ignorant fool, taking no thought to the issue of things and having no Wazir of sense and good counsel, with whom he may advise. Were he a man of mind, he had taken counsel with a Wazir, ere sending us the like of this laughable letter. But he shall have a reply similar to his script and surpassing it, for I will give it to one of the boys of the school to answer.’ Then send for me and, when I come to the presence, bid me read the letter and reply thereto.” When the King heard the boy’s speech, his breast broadened and he approved his proposal and his device delighted him. So he conferred gifts upon him and installing him in his father’s office, sent him away rejoicing. And as soon as expired the three days of delay which he had appointed, the courier presented himself and going in to the King, demanded the answer, but he put him off to another day; whereupon he went to the end of the carpet-room4 and spake with unseemly speech, even as the boy had fore said. Then he betook himself to the bazar and cried, “Ho, people of this city, I am a courier of the King of Outer Hind and came with a message to your monarch who still putteth me off from a reply. Now the term is past which my master limited to me and your King hath no excuse, and ye are witnesses unto this.” When these words reached the King, he sent for that courier and said to him, “O thou that seeketh thine own ruin, art thou not the bearer of a letter from King to King, between whom are secrets, and how cometh it that thou goest forth among the folk and publishest Kings’ secrets to the vulgar? Verily, thou meritest retribution from us, but this we will forbare, for the sake of returning an answer by thee to this fool of a King of thine; and it befitteth not that any return to him reply but the least of the boys of the school.” Then he sent for the Wazir’s son, who came and prostrating himself before Allah, offered up prayers for the King’s lasting glory and long life; whereupon Wird Khan threw him the letter, saying, “Read that letter and write me an acknowledgment thereof in haste.” The boy took the letter and read it, smiled; then he laughed; then he laughed aloud and asked the King, “Didst thou send for me to answer this letter?” “Yes,” answered Wird Khan, and the boy said, “O King, me thought thou hadst sent for me on some grave occasion; indeed, a lesser than I had answered this letter but ’tis thine to command, O puissant potentate.” Quoth the King, “Write the reply forthright, on account of the courier, for that he is appointed a term and we have delayed him another day.” Quoth the boy, “With the readiest hearkening and obedience,” and pulling out paper and inkcase5 wrote as follows:— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This address gave the boy Wazirial rank. In many parts of Europe, England included, if the Sovereign address a subject with a title not belonging to him, it is a disputed point if the latter can or cannot claim it.
2 Koran, chapter of Joseph xii. 28, spoken by Potiphar after Joseph’s innocence had been proved by a witness in Potiphar’s house or according to the Talmud (Sepher Hádjascher) by an infant in the cradle. The texts should have printed this as a quotation (with vowel points).
3 Arab. “Al-‘Azíz,” alluding to Joseph the Patriarch entitled in Egypt “Azíz al-Misr”= Magnifico of Misraim (Koran xii. 54). It is generally believed that Ismail Pasha, whose unwise deposition has caused the English Government such a host of troubles and load of obloquy, aspired to be named “‘Azíz” by the Porte; but was compelled to be satisfied with Khadív (vulg. written Khedive, and pronounced even “Kédivé”), a Persian title, which simply means prince or Rajah, as Khadív-i-Hind.
4 i.e. The Throne room.
5 For the “Dawát” or wooden inkcase containing reeds see vol. v. 239 and viii. 178. I may remark that its origin is the Egyptian “Pes,” of which there is a specimen in the British Museum inscribed, “Amásis the good god and Lord of the two Lands.”
She said: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the boy took the letter and read it, he forthright pulled out inkcase and paper and wrote as follows:—“In the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate! Peace be upon him who hath gotten pardon and deliverance and the mercy of the Merciful! But after, O thou who pretendest thyself a mighty King and art but a King in word and not in deed, we give thee to know that thy letter hath reached us and we have read it and have taken note of that which is therein of absurdities and peregrine extravagances, whereby we are certified of thine ignorance and ill-will to us. Verily, thou hast put out thy hand to that whereunto thou canst never reach and, but that we have compassion on Allah’s creatures and the lieges, we had not held back from thee. As for thy messenger, he went forth to the market streets and published the news of thy letter to great and small, whereby he merited retaliation from us, but we spared him and remitted his offence, of pity for him, seeing that he is excusable with thee and not for aught of respect to thyself. As for that whereof thou makest mention in thy letter of the slaying of my Wazirs and Olema and Grandees, this is the truth and this I did for a reason that arose with me, and I slew not one man of learning but there are with me a thousand of his kind, wiser than he and cleverer and wittier; nor is there with me a child but is filled with knowledge, and I have, in the stead of each of the slain, of those who surpass in his kind, what is beyond count. Each man of my troops also can cope with an horde of thine, whilst, as for monies I have a manufactory that maketh every day a thousand pounds of silver, besides gold, and precious stones are with me as pebbles; and as for the people of my possessions I cannot set forth to thee their goodliness and abundance of means. How darest thou, therefore, presume upon us and say to us, ‘Build me a castle amiddlemost the main’? Verily, this is a marvellous thing, and doubtless it ariseth from the slightness of thy wit, for hadst thou aught of sense, thou hadst enquired of the beatings of the billows and the waftings of the winds. But wall it off from the waves and the surges of the sea and still the winds, and we will build thee the castle. Now as for thy pretension that thou wilt vanquish me, Allah forfend that such thing should befal, and the like of thee should lord it over us and conquer our realm! Nay, the Almighty hath given me the victory over thee, for that thou hast transgressed against me and rebelled without due cause. Know, therefore, that thou hast merited retribution from the Lord and from me; but I fear Allah in respect of thee and thy subjects1 and will not take horse against thee except after warning. Wherefore, an thou also fear Allah, hasten to send me this year’s tribute, else will I not turn from my design to ride forth against thee with a thousand thousand2 and an hundred thousand fighting men, all furious giants on elephants, and I will range them round about my Wazir and bid him besiege thee three years, in lieu of the three days’ delay thou appointedst to thy messenger, and I will make myself master of thy dominion, except that I will slay none save thyself alone and take captive therefrom none but thy Harim.” Then the boy drew his own portrait in the margin of the letter and wrote thereunder the words: “This answer was written by the least of the boys of the school.” After this he sealed it and handed it to the King, who gave it to the courier, and the man, after taking it and kissing the King’s hands went forth from him thanking Allah and the Sovran for his royal clemency to him and marvelling at the boy’s intelligence. He arrived at the court of the King, his master, on the third day after the expiration of the term appointed to him, and found that he had called a meeting of his council, by reason of the failure of the courier to return at the time appointed. So he went in to the King and prostrating himself before him, gave him the letter. The King took it and questioned him of the cause of his tarrying and how it was with King Wird Khan. So he told him all he had seen with his own eyes and heard with his own ears; whereat the King’s wit was confounded and he said, “Out on thee! What tale is this thou tellest me of the like of this King?” Answered the courier, “O mighty monarch, here am I in thy presence,3 but open the letter and read it, and the truth of my speech will be manifest to thee.” So the King opened the letter and read it and seeing the semblance of the boy who had written it, made sure of the loss of his kingdom and was perplexed anent the end of his affair. Then, turning to his Wazirs and Grandees, he acquainted them with what had occurred and read to them the letter, whereat they were affrighted with the sorest affright and sought to soothe the King’s terror with words that were only from the tongue, whilst their hearts were torn piecemeal with palpitations of alarm. But Badi’a (the Chief Wazir) presently said, “Know, O King, that there is no profit in that which my brother Wazirs have proffered, and it is my rede that thou write this King a writ and excuse thyself to him therein, saying, ‘I love thee and loved thy father before thee and sent thee not this letter by the courier except only to prove thee and try thy constancy and see what was in thee of valiancy and thy proficiency in matters of practick and theorick and skill in enigmas and that wherewith thou art endowed of all perfections, So we pray Almighty Allah to bless thee in thy kingdom and strengthen the defences of thy capital and add to thy dominion, since thou art mindful of thyself and managest to accomplish every need of thy subjects’. And send it to him by another courier.” Exclaimed the King, “By Allah of All-might! ’tis a marvel of marvels that this man should be a mighty King and ready for war, after his slaughter of all the wise men of his kingdom and his counsellors and the captains of his host and that his realm should be populous and prosper after this and there should issue therefrom this prodigious power! But the marvelousest of all is that the little ones of its schools should return the like of this answer for its King. Verily, of the vileness of my greed I have kindled this fire upon myself and lieges, and I know not how I shall quench it, save by taking the advice of this my Wazir.” Accordingly he get ready a costly present, with eunuchs and slaves manifold, and wrote the following reply, “In the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate! To proceed: O Glorious King Wird Khan, son of my dear brother, Jali’ad, may the Lord have mercy on thee and continue thee! Thine answer to our letter hath reached us and we have read it and apprehended its contents and see therein that which gladdeneth us and this is the utmost of that which we sought of Allah for thee; so we beseech Him to exalt thy dignity and stablish the pillars of thy state and give thee the victory over thy foes and those who purpose thee frowardness. Know, O King, that thy father was my brother and that there were between us in his lifetime pacts and covenants, and never saw he from me aught save weal, nor ever saw I from him other than good; and when he deceased and thou tookest seat upon the throne of his kingship, there betided us the utmost joy and gladness; but, when the news reached us of that which thou didst with thy Wazirs and the Notables of thy State, we feared lest the report of thee should come to the ears of some King other than ourselves and he should presume against thee, for that we deemed thee negligent of thine affairs and of the maintenance of thy defences and neglectful of the interests of thy kingdom; so we let write unto thee what should arouse thy spirit. But, when we saw that thou returnedest us the like of this reply, our heart was set at ease for thee, may Allah give thee enjoyment4 of thy kingdom and stablish thee in thy dignity! And so peace be with thee.” Then he despatched the letter and the presents to Wird Khan with an escort of an hundred horse — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. I am governed by the fear of Allah in my dealings to thee and thy subjects.
2 Arabic has no single word for million although the Maroccans have adopted “Milyún” from the Spaniards (see p. 100 of the Rudimentos del Árabe vulgar que se habla en el imperio de Marruccos por El P. Fr. Josè de Lerchundi, Madrid 1872): This lack of the higher numerals, the reverse of the Hindu languages, makes Arabic “arithmology” very primitive and almost as cumbrous as the Chinese.
3 i.e. I am thy slave to slay or to pardon.
4 Arab. ‘‘Matta’aka ’llah’’=Allah permit thee to enjoy, from the root mate’, whence cometh the Maroccan Matá‘i=my, mine, which answers to Bitá‘i in Egypt.
She continued: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the monarch of Outer Hind, after making ready his presents, despatched them to King Wird Khan with an escort of an hundred horse, who fared on till they came to his court and saluting him, presented letter and gifts. The King read the writ and lodged the leader of the escort in a befitting place, entreating him with honour and accepting the presents he presented. So the news of this was bruited abroad among the folk and the King rejoiced therein with joy exceeding. Then he sent for the boy, the son of Shimas, and the Captain of the hundred horse and, entreating the young Wazir with honour, gave him the letter to read, whilst he himself blamed the King’s conduct to the Captain who kissed his hands and made his excuses to him, offering up prayers for the continuance of his life and the permanence of his prosperity. The King thanked him for this and bestowed upon him honours and largesse and gave to all his men what befitted them and made ready presents to send by them and bade the boy Wazir indite an answer to their King’s letter. So the boy wrote a reply, wherein, after an address1 beautiful exceedingly, he touched briefly on the question of reconciliation and praised the good breeding of the envoy and of his mounted men, and showed it when duly finished, to the King who said to him, “Read it, O thou dear boy, that we may know what is written2 therein.” So the boy read the letter in the presence of the hundred horse, and the King and all present marvelled at its ordinance of style and sense. Then the King sealed the letter and delivering it to the Captain of the hundred horse, dismissed him with some of his own troops, to escort him as far as the frontier of his country. The Captain returned, confounded in mind at that which he had seen of the boy’s knowledge and thanking Allah for the speedy accomplishment of his errand and the acceptance of peace, to the King of Outer Hind. Then going in to the presence, he delivered the presents and handed to him the letter, telling him what he had seen and heard, whereat the King rejoiced with joy exceeding and rendered lauds to his Lord the Most High and honoured the Captain commending his care and zeal and advancing him in rank. And from that hour he woned in peace and tranquillity and all happiness. As for King Wird Khan, he returned to the paths of righteousness, abandoning his evil ways and repenting to Allah with sincere penitence; and he gave up womanising altogether and applied himself wholly to the ordering of the affairs of his realm and the governance of his people in the fear of Allah. Furthermore, he made the son of Shimas, Wazir in his father’s stead, and the chief after himself in his realm and keeper of his secrets and bade decorate his capital for seven days and likewise the other cities of his kingdom. At this the subjects rejoiced and fear and alarm ceased from them and they were glad in the prospect of justice and equity and instant in prayer for the King and for the Minister who from him and them had done away this trouble. Then said the King to the Wazir, “What is thy rede for the assuring of the state and the prospering of the people and the return of the realm to its aforetime state as regards Captains and Councillors?” Answered the boy, “O King of high estate, in my judgment it behoveth before all, that thou begin by rending out from thy heart the root of wickedness and leave thy debauchery and tyranny and addiction to women; for, an thou return to the root of transgression, the second backsliding will be worse than the first.” The King asked, “And what is the root of sinfulness that it behoveth me to root out from my heart?”; and was answered by the Wazir, little of years but great of wit, “O King the root of wickedness is subjection to the desire of women and inclining to them and following their counsel and contrivance, for the love of them changeth the soundest wit and corrupteth the most upright nature, and manifest proofs bear witness to my saying, wherein an thou meditate them and follow their actions and consequences with eyes intent, thou wilt find a loyal counsellor against thy own soul and wilt stand in no need whatever of my rede. Look, then, thou occupy not thy heart with the thought of womankind and do away the trace of them from thy mind, for that Allah the Most High hath forbidden excessive use of them by the mouth of His prophet Moses, so that quoth a certain wise King to his son, ‘O my son, when thou succeedest to the kingdom after me, frequent not women overmuch, lest thy heart be led astray and thy judgment be corrupted, for that overmuch commerce with them leadeth to love of them, and love of them to corruption of judgment’. And the proof of this is what befel our Lord Solomon, son of David, (peace be upon the twain of them!) whom Allah specially endowed with knowledge and wisdom and supreme dominion, nor vouchsafed He to any one of the Kings his predecessors the like of that which He gave him; and women were the cause of his father’s offending. The examples of this are many, O King, and I do but make mention of Solomon to thee for that thou knowest that to none was given such dominion as that with which he was invested, so that all the Kings of the earth obeyed him. Know then, O King, that the love of women is the root of all evil and none of them hath any judgment; wherefore it behoveth a man use them according to his need and not incline to them with utter inclination for that will cast him into corruption and perdition. An thou hearken to my words, all thine affairs will prosper; but, an thou neglect them thou wilt repent, whenas repentance will not profit thee.” Answered the King, ‘Verily, I have left my whilome inclination to women.’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Khitáb” = the exordium of a letter preceding its business-matter and in which the writer displays all his art. It ends with “Ammá ba’d,” lit.=but after, equivalent to our “To proceed.” This “Khitáb” is mostly skipped over by modern statesmen who will say, “Now after the nonsense let us come to the sense”; but their secretaries carefully weigh every word of it, and strongly resent all shortcomings.
2 Strongly suggesting that the King had forgotten how to read and write. So not a few of the Amirs of Sind were analphabetic and seemed rather proud of it: “a Baloch cannot write, but he always carries a signet-ring.” I heard of an old English lady of the past generation in Northern Africa who openly declared “A Warrington shall never learn to read or write.”
She pursued: It hath reached me, O mighty monarch, that King Wird Khan said to his Wazir, “Indeed, I have left my whilome inclination to women and have altogether renounced my infatuation for them, but how shall I do to punish them in retaliation of their misdeeds? For the slaying of thy sire Shimas was of their malice and not of my own will, and I know not what ailed my reason that I consented with their proposal to slay him “ Then he cried, “Ah me!” and groaned and lamented, saying “Well-away and alas for the loss of my Wazir and his just judgment and admirable administration and for the loss of his like of the Wazirs and Heads of the State and of the goodliness of their apt counsels and sagacious!” “O King,” quoth the boy-minister, “Know that the fault is not with women alone, for that they are like unto a pleasing stock in trade, whereto the lusts of the lookers-on incline. To whosoever lusteth and buyeth, they sell it, but whoso buyeth not, none forceth him to buy; so that the fault is of him who buyeth, especially if he know the harmfulness of that merchandise. Now, I warn thee, as did my sire before me, but thou acceptedest not to his counsel.” Answered the King, “O Wazir, indeed I have fixed this fault upon myself, even as thou hast said, and I have no excuse except divine foreordainment.” Rejoined the Wazir, “O King, know that Almighty Allah hath created us and endowed us with capability and appointed to us free will and choice; so, if we will, we do, and if we will, we do not. The Lord commanded us not to do harm, lest sin attach to us; wherefore it befitteth us to take compt of whatso is right to do, for that the Almighty biddeth us naught but good in all cases and forbiddeth us only from evil; but what we do, we do of our own design, be it fair or faulty.” Quoth the King, “Thou sayest sooth, and indeed my fault arose from my surrendering myself to my lusts, albeit often and often my better self warned me from this, and thy sire Shimas also warned me often and often, but my lust overcame my wits. Hast thou then with thee aught that may withhold me from again committing this error and whereby my reason may be victorious over the desires of my soul?” Quoth the Wazir, “Yes, I can tell thee what will restrain thee from relapsing into this fault, and it is that thou doff the garment of ignorance and don that of understanding, and disobey thy passions and obey thy Lord and revert to the policy of the just King thy sire, and fulfil thy duties to Allah the Most High and to thy people and apply thyself to the defence of thy faith and the promotion of thy subjects’ welfare and rule thyself aright and forbear the slaughter of thy people; and look to the end of things and sever thyself from tyranny and oppression and arrogance and lewdness, and practice justice, equity and humility and bow before the bidding of the Almighty and apply thyself to gentle dealing with those of His creatures over whom He set thee and be assiduous as it besitteth thee in fulfilling their prayers unto thee. An thou be constant herein may thy days be serene and may Allah of His mercy pardon thee, and make thee loved and feared of all who look on thee; so shall thy foes be brought to naught, for the Omnipotent shall rout their hosts and thou shalt have acceptance with Him and of His creatures be dreaded and to them endeared.” Quoth the King, “Indeed thou hast quickened my vitals and illumined my heart with thy sweet speech and hast opened the eyes of my clear seeing after blindness; and I am resolved to do whatso thou hast set forth to me, with the help of the Almighty leaving my former case of lust and sinfulness and bringing forth my soul from durance vile to deliverance and from fear to safety. So it behoveth thee to be joyful hereat and contented, for that I am become to thee as a son, maugre my more of age, an thou to me as a dear father, despite thy tenderness of years, and it hath become incumbent on me to do mine utmost endeavour in all thou commandest me. Wherefore I thank the bounty of Allah and thy bounty because He hath vouchsafed me, by thee, fair fortune and goodly guidance and just judgment to ward off my cark and care; and the security of my lieges hath been brought about by thy hand, through the excellence of thy knowledge and the goodliness of thy contrivance. And thou, from this hour, shalt be the counsellor of my kingdom and equal to myself in all but sitting upon the throne, and whatso thou dost shall be law to me and none shall disobey thy word, young in years though thou be, for that thou art old in wit and knowledge. So I thank Allah who deigned grant thee to me, that thou mayst guide me into the way of salvation and out of the crooked paths of perdition.” Quoth the Wazir, “O auspicious King, know that no merit is due to me for giving thee loyal counsel; for that to succour thee by deed and word is one of the things which is incumbent on me, seeing that I am but a plant of thy bounty, and not I alone, but one before me was overwhelmed with thy beneficence, so that we are both alike partakers in thy honours and favours, and how shall we not acknowledge this? Moreover thou, O King, art our shepherd and ruler and he who wardeth off from us our foes, and to whom are committed our protection and our guardian, constant in endeavour for our safety. Indeed, though we lavished our lives in thy service yet should we not fulfil that which is incumbent on us of gratitude to thee; but we supplicate Allah Almighty, who hath set thee over us and made thee our ruler, and beseech Him vouchsafe thee long life and success in all thine enterprises and not to make trial of thee with afflictions in thy time, but bring thee to thy desire and make thee to be reverenced till the day of thy death and lengthen thine arms in generosity, so thou mayst have command over every wise man and subdue every wicked man and all the wise and brave be found with thee in thy realm and all the ignorant and cowardly be plucked out from thy reign; and we pray Him to withhold from thy people scarcity and calamity and sow among them the seed of love and friendship and cause them to enjoy of this world its prosperity and of the next felicity, of His grace and bounty and hidden mercies. Amen!1 For He is over all things Omnipotent and there is naught difficult unto Him, to Him all things tend.” When the King heard the Wazir’s prayer, he was mightily rejoiced and inclined to him with his whole heart, saying, “Know, O Wazir, thou art to me in lieu of brother and son and father, and naught but death shall divide me from thee. All that my hand possesseth thou shalt have the disposal of and, if I have no child to succeed me, thou shalt sit on my throne in my stead; for thou art the worthiest of all the folk of my realm, and I will invest thee with my Kingship in the presence of the Grandees of my state and appoint thee my heir apparent to inherit the kingdom after me, Inshallah!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ámin,” of which the Heb. form is Amen from the root Amn=stability, constancy. In both tongues it is a particle of affirmation or consent=it is true! So be it! The Hebrew has also “Amanah”=verily, truly.
She resumed: It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King Wird Khan said to the son of Shimas the whilome Wazir, “Presently I will name thee my successor and make thee my heir apparent, and I will call the Grandees of mine Empire to witness thereto.” Then he summoned his Secretary and bade him write to all the Lords of his land, convoking them at his Court, and caused proclamation to be made in his city to all the townsfolk great and small, bidding every one of the Emirs and Governors and Chamberlains and other officers and dignitaries to his presence as well as the Olema and Literati learned in the law. He held to boot a grand Divan and made a banquet, never was its like seen anywhere and thereto he bade all the folk, high and low. So they assembled and abode in merry making, eating and drinking a month’s space, after which the King clothed the whole of his household and the poor of his Kingdom and bestowed on the men of knowledge abundant largesse. Then he chose out a number of the Olema and wise men who were known to the son of Shimas and caused them go in to him, bidding him choose out of them six that he might make them Wazirs under commandment of the boy. Accordingly he selected six of the oldest of them in years and the best in wits and fullest of lore and the quickest of memory and judgment and presented them to the King, who clad them in Wazirial habit saying, “Ye are become my Ministers, under the commandment of this my Grand Wazir, the son of Shimas. Whatsoever he saith to you or biddeth you to do, ye shall never and in no wise depart from it, albeit he is the youngest of you in years, for he is the eldest of you in intellect and intelligence.” Then he seated them upon chairs, adorned with gold after the usage of Wazirs, and appointed to them stipends and allowances, bidding them choose out such of the notables of the kingdom and officers of the troops present at the banquet as were aptest for the service of the state, that he might make them Captains of tens and Captains of hundreds and Captains of thousands and appoint to them dignities and stipends and assign them provision, after the manner of Grandees. This they did with entire diligence and he bade them also handsel all who were present with large gifts and dismiss them each to his country with honour and renown; he also charged his governors to rule the people with justice and enjoined them to be tender to the poor as well as to the rich and bade succour them from the treasury, according to their several degrees. So the Wazirs wished him permanence of glory and continuance of life, and he commanded to decorate the city three days, in gratitude to Allah Almighty for mercies vouchsafed to him. Such was the case with the King and his Wazir, Ibn Shimas, in the ordinance of his kingdom through his Emirs and Governors; but as regards the favourite women, wives, concubines and others who, by their malice and perfidy, had brought about the slaughter of the Wazirs and had well nigh ruined the realm, as soon as the Court was dissolved and all the people had departed, each to his own place, after their affairs had been set in order, the King summoned his boy-Minister, the son of Shimas, and the other six Wazirs and taking them apart privily, said to them, “Know, O Wazirs that I have been a wanderer from the right way, drowned in ignorance, opposed to admonition, a breaker of facts and promises and a gainsayer of good counsellors; and the cause of all this was my being fooled by these women and the wiles whereby they beset me and the glozing lure of their speech, whereby they seduced me to sin and my acceptance of this, for that I deemed the words of them true and loyal counsel, by reason of their sweetness and softness; but lo, and behold! they were deadly poison. And now I am certified that they sought but to ruin and destroy me, wherefore they deserve punishment and retribution from me, for justice sake, that I may make them a warning to whoso will be warned. And what say your just judgments anent doing them to die?” Answered the boy Wazir, “O mighty King, I have already told thee that women are not alone to blame, but that the fault is shared between them and the men who hearken to them. However, they deserve punishment and requital for two reasons: firstly for the fulfilment of thy word, because thou art the supreme King; and secondly, by reason of their presumption against thee and their seducing thee and their meddling with that which concerneth them not and whereof it befitteth them not even to speak. Wherefore they have right well deserved death; yet let that which hath befallen them suffice them, and do thou henceforth reduce them to servants’ estate. But it is thine to command in this and in other than this.” Then one of the Wazirs seconded the counsel of Ibn Shimas; but another of them prostrated himself before the King and said to him, “Allah prolong the King’s life! An thou be indeed resolved to do with them that which shall cause their death, do with them as I shall say to thee.” Asked Wird Khan, “And what is that?”; and the Wazir answered, “’Twere best that thou bid some of thy female slaves carry the women who played thee false to the apartment, wherein befel the slaughter of thy Wazirs and wise men and imprison them there; and bid that they be provided with a little meat and drink, enough to keep life in their bodies. Let them never be suffered to go forth of that place, and whenever one of them dies, let her abide among them, as she is, till they die all, even to the last of them. This is the least of their desert, because they were the cause of this great avail, ay, and the origin of all the troubles and calamities that have befallen in our time; so shall there be verified in them the saying of the Sayer, ‘Whoso diggeth his brother a pit shall surely himself fall into it, albeit of long safety he have benefit.’” The King accepted the Wazir’s counsel and sending for four stalwart female slaves, committed the offending women to them, bidding them bear them into the place of slaughter and imprison them there and allow them every day a little coarse food and a little troubled water. They did with them as he bade; wherefore the women mourned with sore mourning, repenting them of that which they had done and lamenting with grievous lamentation. Thus Allah gave them their reward of abjection in this world and prepared for them torment in the world to come; nor did they cease to abide in that murky and noisome place, whilst every day one or other of them died, till they all perished, even to the last of them;1 and the report of this event was bruited abroad in all lands and countries. This is the end of the story of the King and his Wazirs and subjects, and praise be to Allah who causeth peoples to pass away, and quickeneth the bones that rot in decay; Him who alone is worthy to be glorified and magnified alway and hallowed for ever and aye! And amongst the tales they tell is one of
1 To us this seems a case of “hard lines” for the unhappy women; but Easterns then believed and still believe in the divinity which cloth hedge in a King, in his reigning by the “grace of God,” and in his being the Viceregent of Allah upon earth; briefly in the old faith of loyalty which great and successful republics are fast making obsolete in the West and nowhere faster than in England.
There dwelt once, in Alexandria city, two men, of whom one was a dyer, by name Abú Kír, and the other a barber Abú Sír1; and they were neighbours in the market-street, where their shops stood side by side. The dyer was a swindler and a liar, an exceeding wicked wight, as if indeed his head-temples were hewn out of a boulder rock or fashioned of the threshold of a Jewish synagogue, nor was he ashamed of any shameful work he wrought amongst the folk. It was his wont, when any brought him cloth for staining, first to require of him payment under pretence of buying dyestuffs therewith. So the customer would give him the wage in advance and wend his ways, and the dyer would spend all he received on meat and drink; after which he would sell the cloth itself as soon as ever its owner turned his back and waste its worth in eating and drinking and what not else, for he ate not but of the daintiest and most delicate viands nor brank but of the best of that which doth away the with of man. And when the owner of the cloth came to him, he would say to him, “Return to me to-morrow before sunrise and thou shalt find thy stuff dyed.” So the customer would go away, saying to himself, “One day is near another day,” and return next day at the appointed time, when the dyer would say to him, “Come to-morrow; yesterday I was not at work, for I had with me guests and was occupied with doing what their wants required till they went: but to-morrow before sunrise come and take thy cloth dyed.” So he would fare forth and return on the third day, when Abu Kir would say to him, “Indeed yesterday I was excusable, for my wife was brought to bed in the night and all day I was busy with manifold matters; but to-morrow, without fail, come and take thy cloth dyed.” When the man came again at the appointed time, he would put him off with some other pretence, it mattered little what, and would swear to him; — Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Abú Sír is a manifest corruption of the old Egyptian Pousiri, the Busiris of our classics, and it gives a name to sundry villages in modern Egypt where it is usually pronounced “Búsír”. Abú Kír lit. = the Father of Pitch, is also corrupted to Abou Kir (Bay); and the townlet now marks the site of jolly old Canopus, the Chosen Land of Egyptian debauchery.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that every time the owner of an article came to the dyer he would put him off with any pretext1 and would swear to him; nor would he cease to promise and swear to him, as often as he came, till the customer lost patience and said, “How often wilt thou say to me, ‘To-morrow?’ Give me my stuff: I will not have it dyed.” Whereupon the dyer would make answer, “By Allah, O my brother, I am abashed at thee; but I must tell the truth and may Allah harm all who harm folk in their goods!” The other would exclaim, “Tell me what hath happened;” and Abu Kir would reply, “As for thy stuff I dyed that same on matchless wise and hung it on the drying rope but ’twas stolen and I know not who stole it.” If the owner of the stuff were of the kindly he would say, “Allah will compensate me;” and if he were of the ill-conditioned, he would haunt him with exposure and insult, but would get nothing of him, though he complained of him to the judge. He ceased not doing thus till his report was noised abroad among the folk and each used to warn other against Abu Kir who became a byword amongst them. So they all held aloof from him and none would be entrapped by him save those who were ignorant of his character; but, for all this, he failed not daily to suffer insult and exposure from Allah’s creatures. By reason of this his trade became slack and he used to go to the shop of his neighbour the barber Abu Sir and sit there, facing the dyery and with his eyes on the door. Whenever he espied any one who knew him not standing at the dyery-door, with a piece of stuff in his hand, he would leave the barber’s booth and go up to him saying, “What seekest thou, O thou?”; and the man would reply, “Take and dye me this thing.” So the dyer would ask, “What colour wilt thou have it?” For, with all his knavish tricks his hand was in all manner of dyes; but he was never true to any one; wherefore poverty had gotten the better of him. Then he would take the stuff and say, “Give me my wage in advance and come to-morrow and take the stuff.” So the stranger would advance him the money and wend his way; whereupon Abu Kir would carry the cloth to the market-street and sell it and with its price buy meat and vegetables and tobacco2 and fruit and what not else he needed; but, whenever he saw any one who had given him stuff to dye standing at the door of his shop, he would not come forth to him or even show himself to him. On this wise he abode years and years, till it fortuned one day that he received cloth to dye from a man of wrath and sold it and spent the proceeds. The owner came to him every day, but found him not in his shop; for, whenever he espied any one who had claim against him, he would flee from him into the shop of the barber Abu Sir. At last, that angry man finding that he was not to be seen and growing weary of such work, repaired to the Kazi and bringing one of his serjeants to the shop, nailed up the door, in presence of a number of Moslems, and sealed it, for that he saw therein naught save some broken pans of earthenware to stand him instead of his stuff; after which the serjeant took the key, saying to the neighbours, “Tell him to bring back this man’s cloth then come to me3 and take his shop key;” and went his way, he and the man. Then said Abu Sir to Abu Kir, “What ill business is this?4 Whoever bringeth thee aught thou losest it for him. What hath become of this angry man’s stuff?” Answered the dyer, “O my neighbour, ’twas stolen from me.” “Prodigous!” exclaimed the barber. “Whenever any one giveth thee aught, a thief stealeth it from thee! Art thou then the meeting-place of every rogue upon town? But I doubt me thou liest: so tell me the truth.” Replied Abu Kir, “O my neighbour, none hath stolen aught from me.” Asked Abu Sir, “What then dost thou with the people’s property?”; and the dyer answered, “Whenever any one giveth me aught to dye, I sell it and spend the price.” Quoth Abu Sir, “Is this permitted thee of Allah?” and quoth Abu Kir, “I do this only out of poverty, because business is slack with me and I am poor and have nothing.”5 And he went on to complain to him of the dulness of his trade and his lack of means. Abu Sir in like manner lamented the little profit of his own calling, saying, “I am a master of my craft and have not my equal in this city; but no one cometh to me to be polled, because I am a pauper; and I loathe this art and mystery, O my brother.” Abu Kir replied, “And I also loathe my own craft, by reason of its slackness; but, O my brother, what call is there for abiding in this town? Let us depart from it, I and thou, and solace ourselves in the lands of mankind, carrying in our hands our crafts which are in demand all the world over; so shall we breathe the air and rest from this grievous trouble.” And he ceased not to commend travel to Abu Sir, till the barber became wishful to set out; so they agreed upon their route — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 It is interesting to note the superior gusto with which the Eastern, as well as the Western tale-teller describes his scoundrels and villains whilst his good men and women are mostly colourless and unpicturesque. So Satan is the true hero of Paradise–Lost and by his side God and man are very ordinary; and Mephistopheles is much better society than Faust and Margaret.
2 Arab. “Dukhán,” lit. = smoke, here tobacco for the Chibouk, “Timbák” or “Tumbák” being the stronger (Persian and other) variety which must be washed before smoking in the Shíshah or water pipe. Tobacco is mentioned here only and is evidently inserted by some scribe: the “weed” was not introduced into the East before the end of the sixteenth century (about a hundred years after coffee), when it radically changed the manners of society.
3 Which meant that the serjeant, after the manner of such officials, would make him pay dearly before giving up the key. Hence a very severe punishment in the East is to “call in a policeman” who carefully fleeces all those who do not bribe him to leave them in freedom.
4 Arab. “Má Dáhiyatak?” lit. “What is thy misfortune?” The phrase is slighting if not insulting.
5 Amongst Moslems the plea of robbing to keep life and body together would be accepted by a good man like Abu Sir, who still consorted with a self-confessed thief.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu Kir ceased not his praises of wayfaring to Abu Sir till the barber became wishful to depart; so they agreed upon their route, at which decision Abu Kir rejoiced and improvised these lines,
“Leave thy home for abroad an wouldst rise on high,
And travel whence benefits five-fold rise;
The soothing of sorrow and winning of bread,
Knowledge, manners and commerce with good men and wise.
An they say that in travel are travail and care,
And disunion of friends and much hardship that tries;
Yet to generous youth death is better than life
In the house of contempt betwixt haters and spies.”
When they agreed to travel together Abu Kir said to Abu Sir, “O my neighbour, we are become brethren and there is no difference between us, so it behoveth us to recite the Fátihah1 that he of us who gets work shall of his gain feed him who is out of work, and whatever is left, we will lay in a chest; and when we return to Alexandria, we will divide it fairly and equally.” “So be it,” replied Abu Sir, and they repeated the Opening Chapter of the Koran on this understanding. Then Abu Sir locked up his shop and gave the key to its owner, whilst Abu Kir left his door locked and sealed and let the key lie with the Kazi’s serjeant; after which they took their baggage and embarked on the morrow in a galleon2 upon the salt sea. They set sail the same day and fortune attended them, for, of Abu Sir’s great good luck, there was not a barber in the ship albeit it carried an hundred and twenty men, besides captain and crew. So, when they loosed the sails, the barber said to the dyer, “O my brother, this is the sea and we shall need meat and drink; we have but little provaunt with us and haply the voyage will be long upon us; wherefore methinks I will shoulder my budget and pass among the passengers, and may be some one will say to me, ‘Come hither, O barber, and shave me,’ and I will shave him for a scone or a silver bit or a draught of water: so shall we profit by this, I and thou too.” “There’s no harm in that,” replied the dyer and laid down his head and slept, whilst the barber took his gear and water-tasse3 and throwing over his shoulder a rag, to serve as napkin (because he was poor), passed among the passengers. Quoth one of them, “Ho, master, come and shave me.” So he shaved him, and the man gave him a half-dirham;4 whereupon quoth Abu Sir, “O my brother, I have no use for this bit; hadst thou given me a scone ’twere more blessed to me in this sea, for I have a shipmate and we are short of provision.” So he gave him a loaf and a slice of cheese and filled him the tasse with sweet water. The barber carried all this to Abu Kir and said, “Eat the bread and cheese and drink the water.” Accordingly he ate and drank, whilst Abu Sir again took up his shaving gear and, tasse in hand and rag on shoulder, went round about the deck among the passengers. One man he shaved for two scones and another for a bittock of cheese, and he was in demand, because there was no other barber on board. Also he bargained with every one who said to him, “Ho, master, shave me!” for two loaves and a half dirham, and they gave him whatever he sought, so that, by sundown, he had collected thirty loaves and thirty silvers with store of cheese and olives and botargoes.5 And besides these he got from the passengers whatever he asked for and was soon in possession of things galore. Amongst the rest he shaved the Captain,6 to whom he complained of his lack of victual for the voyage, and the skipper said to him, “Thou art welcome to bring thy comrade every night and sup with me and have no care for that so long as ye sail with us.” Then he returned to the dyer, whom he found asleep; so he roused him; and when Abu Kir awoke, he saw at his head an abundance of bread and cheese and olives and botargoes and said, “Whence gottest thou all this?” “From the bounty of Allah Almighty,” replied Abu Sir. Then Abu Kir would have fallen to, but the barber said to him, “Eat not of this, O my brother; but leave it to serve us another time; for know that I shaved the Captain and complained to him of our lack of victual: whereupon quoth he, ‘Welcome to thee! Bring thy comrade and sup both of ye with me every night.’ And this night we sup with him for the first time.” But Abu Kir replied, “My head goeth round with sea-sickness and I cannot rise from my stead; so let me sup off these things and fare thou alone to the Captain.” Abu Sir replied, “There is no harm in that;” and sat looking at the other as he ate, and saw him hew off gobbets, as the quarryman heweth stone from the hill-quarries and gulp them down with the gulp of an elephant which hath not eaten for days, bolting another mouthful ere he had swallowed the previous one and glaring the while at that which was before him with the glowering of a Ghul, blowing and blowing as bloweth the hungry bull over his beans and bruised straw. Presently up came a sailor and said to the barber, “O craftsmaster, the Captain biddeth thee come to supper and bring thy comrade.” Quoth the barber to the dyer, “Wilt thou come with us?”; but quoth he, “I cannot walk.” So the barber went by himself and found the Captain sitting before a tray whereon were a score or more of dishes and all the company were awaiting him and his mate. When the Captain saw him he asked, “Where is thy friend?”; and Abu Sir answered, “O my lord, he is sea-sick.” Said the skipper, “That will do him no harm; his sickness will soon pass off; but do thou carry him his supper and come back, for we tarry for thee.” Then he set apart a porringer of Kabábs and putting therein some of each dish, till there was enough for ten, gave it to Abu Sir, saying, “Take this to thy chum.” He took it and carried it to the dyer, whom he found grinding away with his dog-teeth7 at the food which was before him, as he were a camel, and heaping mouthful on mouthful in his hurry. Quoth Abu Sir, “Did I not say to thee, ‘Eat not of this’? Indeed the Captain is a kindly man. See what he hath sent thee, for that I told him thou wast sea-sick.” “Give it here,” cried the dyer. So the barber gave him the platter, and he snatched it from him and fell upon his food, ravening for it and resembling a grinning dog or a raging lion or a Rukh pouncing on a pigeon or one well-nigh dead for hunger who seeing meat falls ravenously to eat. Then Abu Sir left him and going back to the Captain, supped and enjoyed himself and drank coffee8 with him; after which he returned to Abu Kir and found he had eaten all that was in the porringer and thrown it aside, empty. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 To make their agreement religiously binding. See vol. iv. 36.
2 Arab. “Ghaliyún”; many of our names for craft seem connected with Arabic: I have already noted “Carrack” = harrák: to which add Uskuf in Marocco pronounced ‘Skuff = skiff; Katírah = a cutter; Bárijah = a barge; etc. etc.
3 The patient is usually lathered in a gib gasin of tinned brass, “Mambrino’s helmet” with a break in the rim to fit the throat; but the poorer classes carry only a small cup with water instead of soap and water ignoring the Italian proverb, “Barba ben saponata mezza fatta” = well lathered is half shaved. A napkin fringed at either end is usually thrown over the Figaro’s shoulder and used to wipe the razor.
4 Arab. “Nusf.” See vol. ii. 37.
5 Arab. “Batárikh” the roe (sperm or spawn) of the salted Fasíkh (fish) and the Búrí (mugil cephalus) a salt-water fish caught in the Nile and considered fair eating. Some write Butárghá from the old Egyptian town Burát, now a ruin between Tinnis and Damietta (Sonnini).
6 Arab. “Kaptán,” see vol. iv. 85.
7 Arab. “Anyáb,” plur. of Náb applied to the grinder teeth but mostly to the canines or eye teeth, tusks of animals, etc. (See vol. vii. p. 339) opp. To Saniyah, one of the four central incisors, a camel in the sixth year and horse, cow, sheep and goat in fourth year.
8 The coffee (see also vol. viii. 274) like the tobacco is probably due to the scribe; but the tale appears to be comparatively modern. In The Nights men eat, drink and wash their hands but do not smoke and sip coffee like the moderns. See my Terminal Essay §2.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abu Sir returned to Abu Kir he saw that he had eaten all that was in the porringer and had thrown it aside empty. So he took it up and gave it to one of the Captain’s servants, then went back to Abu Kir and slept till the morning. On the morrow, he continued to shave, and all he got by way of meat and drink he gave to his shipmate, who ate and drank and sat still, rising not save to do what none could do for him, and every night the barber brought him a full porringer from the Captain’s table. They fared thus twenty days until the galleon cast anchor in the harbour of a city; whereupon they took leave of the skipper and landing, entered the town and hired them a closet in a Khan. Abu Sir furnished it and buying a cooking pot and a platter and spoons1 and what else they needed, fetched meat and cooked it; but Abu Kir fell asleep the moment he entered the Caravanserai and awoke not till Abu Sir aroused him and set a tray of food2 before him. When he awoke, he ate and saying to Abu Sir, “Blame me not, for I am giddy,” fell asleep again. Thus he did forty days, whilst, every day, the barber took his gear and making the round of the city, wrought for that which fell to his lot,3 and returning, found the dyer asleep and aroused him. The moment he awoke he fell ravenously upon the food, eating as one who cannot have his fill nor be satisfied; after which he went asleep again. On this wise he passed other forty days and whenever the barber said to him, “Sit up and be comfortable4 and go forth and take an airing in the city, for ’tis a gay place and a pleasant and hath not its equal among the cities,” he would reply, “Blame me not, for I am giddy.” Abu Sir cared not to hurt his feelings nor give him hard words; but, on the forty-first day, he himself fell sick and could not go abroad; so he engaged the porter of the Khan to serve them both, and he did the needful for them and brought them meat and drink whilst Abu Kir would do nothing but eat and sleep. The man ceased not to wait upon them on this wise for four days, at the end of which time the barber’s malady redoubled on him, till he lost his senses for stress of sickness; and Abu Kir, feeling the sharp pangs of hunger, arose and sought in his comrade’s clothes, where he found a thousand silver bits. He took them and, shutting the door of the closet upon Abu Sir, fared forth without telling any; and the doorkeeper was then at market and thus saw him not go out. Presently Abu Kir betook himself to the bazar and clad himself in costly clothes, at a price of five hundred half-dirhams; then he proceeded to walk about the streets and divert himself by viewing the city which he found to be one whose like was not among cities; but he noted that all its citizens were clad in clothes of white and blue, without other colour. Presently he came to a dyer’s and seeing naught but blue in his shop, pulled out to him a kerchief and said, “O master, take this and dye it and win thy wage.” Quoth the dyer, “The cost of dyeing this will be twenty dirhams;” and quoth Abu Kir, “In our country we dye it for two.” “Then go and dye it in your own country! As for me, my price is twenty dirhams and I will not bate a little thereof.” “What colour wilt thou dye it?” “I will dye it blue.” “But I want it dyed red.” “I know not how to dye red.” “Then dye it green.” “I know not how to dye green.” “Yellow.” “Nor yet yellow.” Thereupon Abu Kir went on to name the different tints to him, one after other, till the dyer said, “We are here in this city forty masterdyers, not one more nor one less; and when one of us dieth, we teach his son the craft. If he leave no son, we abide lacking one, and if he leave two sons, we teach one of them the craft, and if he die, we teach his brother. This our craft is strictly ordered, and we know how to dye but blue and no other tine whatsoever.” Then said Abu Kir, “Know that I too am a dyer and wot how to dye all colours; and I would have thee take me into thy service on hire, and I will teach thee everything of my art, so thou mayst glory therein over all the company of dyers.” But the dyer answered, “We never admit a stranger into our craft.” Asked Abu Kir, “And what if I open a dyery for myself?”; whereto the other answered, “We will not suffer thee to do that on any wise;” whereupon he left him and going to a second dyer, made him the like proposal; but he returned him the same answer as the first; and he ceased not to go from one to other, till he had made the round of the whole forty masters; but they would not accept him either to master or apprentice. Then he repaired to the Shaykh of the Dyers and told him what had passed, and he said, “We admit no strangers into our craft.” Hereupon Abu Kir became exceeding wroth and going up to the King of that city, made complaint to him, saying, “O King of the age, I am a stranger and a dyer by trade”; and he told him whatso had passed between himself and the dyers of the town, adding, “I can dye various kinds of red, such as rose-colour and jujubel-colour5 and various kinds of green, such as grass-green and pistachio-green and olive and parrot’s wing, and various kinds of black, such as coal-black and Kohl-black, and various shades of yellow, such as orange and lemon-colour,” and went on to name to him the rest of the colours. Then said he, “O King of the age, all the dyers in thy city can not turn out of hand any one of these tincts, for they know not how to dye aught but blue; yet will they not admit me amongst them, either to master or apprentice.” Answered the King, “Thou sayst sooth for that matter, but I will open to thee a dyery and give thee capital and have thou no care anent them; for whoso offereth to do thee let or hindrance, I will hang him over his shop-door.” Then he sent for builders and said to them, “Go round about the city with this master-dyer, and whatsoever place pleaseth him, be it shop or Khan or what not, turn out its occupier and build him a dyery after his wish. Whatsoever he biddeth you, that do ye and oppose him not in aught.” And he clad him in a handsome suit and gave him two white slaves to serve him, and a horse with housings of brocade and a thousand dinars, saying, “Expend this upon thyself against the building be completed.” Accordingly Abu Kir donned the dress and mounting the horse, became as he were an Emir. Moreover the King assigned him a house and bade furnish it; so they furnished it for him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Mi’lakah” (Bresl. Edit. x, 456). The fork is modern even in the East and the Moors borrow their term for it from fourchette. But the spoon, which may have begun with a cockle-shell, dates from the remotest antiquity.
2 Arab. “Sufrah” properly the cloth or leather upon which food is placed. See vol. i. 178.
3 i.e. gaining much one day and little another.
4 Lit. “Rest thyself” i.e. by changing posture.
5 Arab. “Unnábi” = between dark yellow and red.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King assigned a house to Abu Kir and bade furnish it and he took up his abode therein. On the morrow he mounted and rode through the city, whilst the architects went before him; and he looked about him till he saw a place which pleased him and said, “This stead is seemly;” whereupon they turned out the owner and carried him to the King, who gave him as the price of his holding, what contented him and more. Then the builders fell to work, whilst Abu Kir said to them, “Build thus and thus and do this and that,” till they built him a dyery that had not its like; whereupon he presented himself before the King and informed him that they had done building the dyery and that there needed but the price of the dye-stuffs and gear to set it going. Quoth the King, “Take these four thousand dinars to thy capital and let me see the first fruits of thy dyery.” So he took the money and went to the market where, finding dye-stuffs1 plentiful and well-nigh worthless, he bought all he needed of materials for dyeing; and the King sent him five hundred pieces of stuff, which he set himself to dye of all colours and then he spread them before the door of his dyery. When the folk passed by the shop, they saw a wonder-sight whose like they had never in their lives seen; so they crowded about the entrance, enjoying the spectacle and questioning the dyer and saying, “O master, what are the names of these colours?” Quoth he, “This is red and that yellow and the other green” and so on, naming the rest of the colours. And they fell to bringing him longcloth and saying to him, “Dye it for us like this and that and take what hire thou seekest.” When he had made an end of dyeing the King’s stuffs, he took them and went up with them to the Divan; and when the King saw them he rejoiced in them and bestowed abundant bounty on the dyer. Furthermore, all the troops brought him stuffs, saying, “Dye for us thus and thus;” and he dyed for them to their liking, and they threw him gold and silver. After this his fame spread abroad and his shop was called the Sultan’s Dyery. Good came in to him at every door and none of the other dyers could say a word to him, but they used to come to him kissing his hands and excusing themselves to him for past affronts they had offered him and saying, “Take us to thine apprentices.” But he would none of them for he had become the owner of black slaves and handmaids and had amassed store of wealth. On this wise fared it with Abu Kir; but as regards Abu Sir, after the closet door had been locked on him and his money had been stolen, he abode prostrate and unconscious for three successive days, at the end of which the Concierge of the Khan, chancing to look at the door, observed that it was locked and bethought himself that he had not seen and heard aught of the two companions for some time. So he said in his mind, “Haply they have made off, without paying rent,2 or perhaps they are dead, or what is to do with them?” And he waited till sunset, when he went up to the door and heard the barber groaning within. He saw the key in the lock; so he opened the door and entering, found Abu Sir lying, groaning, and said to him, “No harm to thee: where is thy friend?” Replied Abu Sir, “By Allah, I came to my senses only this day and called out; but none answered my call. Allah upon thee, O my brother, look for the purse under my head and take from it five half-dirhams and buy me somewhat nourishing, for I am sore anhungered.” The porter put out his hand and taking the purse, found it empty and said to the barber, “The purse is empty; there is nothing in it.” Whereupon Abu Sir knew that Abu Kir had taken that which was therein and had fled and he asked the porter, “Hast thou not seen my friend?” Answered the doorkeeper, “I have not seen him these three days; and indeed methought you had departed, thou and he.” The barber cried, “Not so; but he coveted my money and took it and fled seeing me sick.” Then he fell a-weeping and a-wailing but the doorkeeper said to him, “No harm shall befal thee, and Allah will requite him his deed.” So he went away and cooked him some broth, whereof he ladled out a plateful and brought it to him; nor did he cease to tend him and maintain him with his own monies for two months’ space, when the barber sweated3 and the Almighty made him whole of his sickness. Then he stood up and said to the porter, “An ever the Most High Lord enable me, I will surely requite thee of thy kindness to me; but none requiteth save the Lord of His bounty!” Answered the porter, “Praised be He for thy recovery! I dealt not thus with thee but of desire for the face of Allah the Bountiful.” Then the barber went forth of the Khan and threaded the market-streets of the town, till Destiny brought him to the bazar wherein was Abu Kir’s dyery, and he saw the vari-coloured stuffs dispread before the shop and a jostle of folk crowding to look upon them. So he questioned one of the townsmen and asked him, “What place is this and how cometh it that I see the folk crowding together?”; whereto the man answered, saying, “This is the Sultan’s Dyery, which he set up for a foreigner Abu Kir hight; and whenever he dyeth new stuff, we all flock to him and divert ourselves by gazing upon his handiwork, for we have no dyers in our land who know how to stain with these colours; and indeed there befel him with the dyers who are in the city that which befel.”4 And he went on to tell him all that had passed between Abu Kir and the master-dyers and how he had complained of them to the Sultan who took him by the hand and built him that dyery and give him this and that: brief, he recounted to him all that had occurred. At this the barber rejoiced and said in himself, “Praised be Allah who hath prospered him, so that he is become a master of his craft! And the man is excusable, for of a surety he hath been diverted from thee by his work and hath forgotten thee; but thou actedst kindly by him and entreatedst him generously, what time he was out of work; so, when he seeth thee, he will rejoice in thee and entreat thee generously, even as thou entreatedst him.” According he made for the door of the dyery and saw Abu Kir seated on a high mattress spread upon a bench beside the doorway, clad in royal apparel and attended by four blackamoor slaves and four white Mamelukes all robed in the richest of raiment. Moreover, he saw the workmen, ten negro slaves, standing at work; for, when Abu Kir bought them, he taught them the craft of dyeing, and he himself sat amongst his cushions, as he were a Grand Wazir or a mighty monarch putting his hand to naught, but only saying to the men, “Do this and do that.” So the barber went up to him and stood before him, deeming he would rejoice in him when he saw him and salute him and entreat him with honour and make much of him; but, when eye fell upon eye, the dyer said to him, “O scoundrel, how many a time have I bidden thee stand not at the door of the workshop? Hast thou a mind to disgrace me with the folk, thief5 that thou art? Seize him.” So the blackamoors ran at him and laid hold of him; and the dyer rose up from his seat and said, “Throw him.” Accordingly they threw him down and Abu Kir took a stick and dealt him an hundred strokes on the back; after which they turned him over and he beat him other hundred blows on his belly. Then he said to him, “O scoundrel, O villian, if ever again I see thee standing at the door of this dyery, I will forthwith send thee to the King, and he will commit thee to the Chief of Police, that he may strike thy neck. Begone, may Allah not bless thee!” So Abu Sir departed from him, broken-hearted by reason of the beating and shame that had betided him; whilst the bystanders asked Abu Kir, “What hath this man done?” He answered, “The fellow is a thief, who stealeth the stuffs of folk.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Nílah” lit. = indigo, but here applied to all the materials for dyeing. The word is Sanskrit, and the growth probably came from India, although during the Crusaders’ occupation of Jerusalem it was cultivated in the valley of the lower Jordan. I need hardly say that it has nothing to do with the word “Nile” whose origin is still sub judice. And yet I lately met a sciolist who pompously announced to me this philological absurdity as a discovery of his own.
2 Still a popular form of “bilking” in the Wakálahs or Caravanserais of Cairo: but as a rule the Bawwáb (porter or doorkeeper) keeps a sharp eye on those he suspects. The evil is increased when women are admitted into these places; so periodical orders for their exclusion are given to the police.
3 Natives of Egypt always hold this diaphoresis a sign that the disease has abated and they regard it rightly in the case of bilious remittents to which they are subject, especially after the hardships and sufferings of a sea-voyage with its alternations of fasting and over-eating.
4 Not simply, “such and such events happened to him” (Lane); but, “a curious chance befel him.”
5 Arab. “Harámi,” lit. = one who lives on unlawful gains; popularly a thief.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abu Kir beat Abu Sir and thrust him forth he said to those present, “He is a thief who stealeth the stuffs of folk; he hath robbed me of cloth, how many a time! and I still said in myself, ‘Allah forgive him!’ He is a poor man; and I cared not to deal roughly with him; so I used to give my customers the worth of their goods and forbid him gently; but he would not be forbidden: and if he come again, I will send him to the King, who will put him to death and rid the people of his mischief.” And the bystanders fell to abusing the barber after his back was turned. Such was the behaviour of Abu Kir; but as regards Abu Sir, he returned to the Khan, where he sat pondering that which the dyer had done by him and he remained seated till the burning of the beating subsided, when he went out and walked about the markets of the city. Presently, he bethought him to go to the Hammam bath; so he said to one of the townsfolk, “O my brother, which is the way to the Baths?” Quoth the man, “And what manner of thing may the Baths be?” and quoth Abu Sir, “’Tis a place where people wash themselves and do away their dirt and defilements, and it is of the best of the good things of the world.” Replied the townsman, “Get thee to the sea,” but the barber rejoined, “I want the Hammam-baths.” Cried the other, “We know not what manner of this is the Hammam, for we all resort to the sea; even the King, when he would wash, betaketh himself to the sea.” When Abu Sir was assured that there was no bath in the city and that the folk knew not the Baths nor the fashion thereof, he betook himself to the King’s Divan and kissing ground between his hands called down blessings on him and said, “I am a stranger and a Bath-man by trade, and I entered thy city and thought to go to the Hammam; but found not one therein. How cometh a city of this comely quality to lack a Hammam, seeing that the bath is of the highest of the delights of this world?” Quoth the King, “What manner of thing is the Hammam?” So Abu Sir proceeded to set forth to him the quality of the bath, saying, “Thy capital will not be a perfect city till there be a Hammam therein.” “Welcome to thee!” said the King and clad him in a dress that had not its like and gave him a horse and two blackamoor slaves, presently adding four handmaids and as many white Mamelukes: he also appointed him a furnished house and honoured him yet more abundantly than he had honoured the dyer. After this he sent builders with him saying to them, “Build him a Hammam in what place soever shall please him.” So he took them and went with them through the midst of the city, till he saw a stead that suited him. He pointed it out to the builders and they set to work, whilst he directed them, and they wrought till they builded him a Hammam that had not its like. Then he bade them paint it, and they painted it rarely, so that it was a delight to the beholders; after which Abu Sir went up to the King and told him that they had made an end of building and decorating the Hammam, adding, “There lacketh naught save the furniture.” The King gave him ten thousand dinars wherewith he furnished the Bath and ranged the napkins on the ropes; and all who passed by the door stared at it and their mind confounded at its decorations. So the people crowded to this spectacle, whose like they had never in their lives seen, and solaced themselves by staring at it and saying, “What is this thing?” To which Abu Sir replied, “This is a Hammam;” and they marvelled thereat. Then he heated water and set the bath aworking,1 and he made a jetting fountain in the great basin, which ravished the wit of all who saw it of the people of the city. Furthermore, he sought of the King ten Mamelukes not yet come to manhood, and he gave him ten boys like moons; whereupon Abu Sir proceeded to shampoo them, saying, “Do in this wise with the bathers.” Then he burnt perfumes and sent out a crier to cry aloud in the city, saying, “O creatures of Allah, get ye to the Baths which be called the Sultan’s Hammam!” So the lieges came thither and Abu Sir bade the slave-boys wash their bodies. The folk went down into the tank and coming forth, seated themselves on the raised pavement, whilst the boys shampooed them, even as Abu Sir had taught them; and they continued to enter the Hammam and do their need therein gratis and go out, without paying, for the space of three days. On the fourth day the barber invited the King, who took horse with his Grandees and rode to the Baths, where he put off his clothes and entered; then Abu Sir came in to him and rubbed his body with the bag-gloves, peeling from his skin dirt-rolls like lamp-wicks and showing them to the King, who rejoiced therein, and clapping his hand upon his limbs heard them ring again for very smoothness and cleanliness2; after which thorough washing Abu Sir mingled rose-water with the water of the tank and the King went down therein. When he came forth, his body was refreshed and he felt a lightness and liveliness such as he had never known in his life. Then the barber made him sit on the dais and the boys proceeded to shampoo him, whilst the censers fumed with the finest lign-aloes.3 Then said the King, “O master is this the Hammam?”; and Abu Sir said, “Yes.” Quoth the King, “As my head liveth, my city is not become a city indeed but by this Bath,” presently adding, “But what pay takest thou for each person?” Quoth Abu Sir, “That which thou biddest will I take;” whereupon the King cried, “Take a thousand gold pieces for every one who washeth in thy Hammam.” Abu Sir, however, said, “Pardon, O King of the age! All men are not alike, but there are amongst them rich and poor, and if I take of each a thousand dinars, the Hammam will stand empty, for the poor man cannot pay this price.” Asked the King, “How then wilt thou do for the price!”; and the barber answered, “I will leave it to their generosity.4 Each who can afford aught shall pay that which his soul grudgeth not to give, and we will take from every man after the measure of his means. On this wise will the folk come to us and he who is wealthy shall give according to his station and he who is wealth-less shall give what he can afford. Under such condition the Hammam will still be at work and prosper exceedingly; but a thousand dinars is a Monarch’s gift, and not every man can avail to this.” The Lords of the Realm confirmed Abu Sir’s words, saying, “This is the truth, O King of the age! Thinkest thou that all folk are like unto thee, O glorious King5?” The King replied, “Ye say sooth; but this man is a stranger and poor and ’tis incumbent on us to deal generously with him, for that he hath made in our city this Hammam whose like we have never in our lives seen and without which our city were not adorned nor hath gotten importance; wherefore, an we favour him with increase of fee ’twill not be much.” But the Grandees said, “An thou wilt guerdon him be generous with thine own monies, and let the King’s bounty be extended to the poor by means of the low price of the Hammam, so the lieges may bless thee; but, as for the thousand dinars, we are the Lords of thy Land, yet do our souls grudge to pay it; and how then should the poor be pleased to afford it?” Quoth the King, “O my Grandees, for this time let each of you give him an hundred dinars and a Mameluke, a slave girl and a blackamoor;” and quoth they, “’Tis well; we will give it; but after to-day whoso entereth shall give him only what he can afford, without grudging.” “No harm in that,” said the King; and they gave him the thousand gold pieces and three chattels. Now the number of the Nobles who were washed with the King that day was four hundred souls; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. he turned on the water, hot and cold.
2 Men are often seen doing this in the Hammam. The idea is that the skin when free from sebaceous exudation sounds louder under the clapping. Easterns judge much by the state of the perspiration, especially in horse-training, which consists of hand-gallops for many successive miles. The sweat must not taste over salt and when held between thumb and forefinger and the two are drawn apart must not adhere in filaments.
3 Lit. “Aloes for making Nadd;” see vol. i. 310. “Eagle-wood” (the Malay Aigla and Agallochum the Sansk. Agura) gave rise to many corruptions as lignum aloes, the Portuguese Páo d’ Aguila etc. “Calamba” or “Calambak” was the finest kind. See Colonel Yule in the “Voyage of Linschoten” (vol. i. 120 and 150). Edited for the Hakluyt Soc. (1885) by my learned and most amiable friend, the late Arthur Cooke Burnell.
4 The Hammam is one of those unpleasant things which are left “Alà júdi-k” = to thy generosity; and the higher the bather’s rank the more he or she is expected to pay. See Pilgrimage i. 103. In 1853 I paid at Cairo 3 piastres and twenty paras, something more than sixpence, but now five shillings would be asked.
5 This is something like the mythical duchess in England who could not believe that the poor were starving when sponge-cakes were so cheap.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the number of the Nobles who were washed with the King that day were four hundred souls; so that the total of that which they gave him was forty thousand dinars, besides four hundred Mamelukes and a like number of negroes and slave-girls.1 Moreover the King gave him ten thousand dinars, besides ten white slaves and ten hand-maidens and a like number of blackamoors; whereupon coming forward Abu Sir kissed the ground before him and said, “O auspicious Sovereign, lord of justice, what place will contain me all these women and slaves?” Quoth the King, “O weak o wit, I bade not my nobles deal thus with thee but that we might gather together unto thee wealth galore; for may be thou wilt bethink thee of thy country and family and repine for them and be minded to return to thy mother-land; so shalt thou take from our country muchel of money to maintain thyself withal, what while thou livest in thine own country.” And quoth Abu Sir, “O King of the age, (Allah advance thee!) these white slaves and women and negroes befit only Kings and hadst thou ordered me ready money, it were more profitable to me than this army; for they must eat and drink and dress, and whatever betideth me of wealth, it will not suffice for their support.” The King laughed and said, “By Allah thou speakest sooth! They are indeed a mighty host, and thou hast not the wherewithal to maintain them; but wilt thou sell them to me for an hundred dinars a head?” Said Abu Sir, “I sell them to thee at that price.” So the King sent to his treasurer for the coin and he brought it and gave Abu Sir the whole of the price without abatement2 and in full tale; after which the King restored the slaves take them; for they are a gift from me to you.” So they obeyed his bidding and took each what belonged to him; whilst Abu Sir said to the King, “Allah ease thee, O King of the age, even as thou hast eased me of these Ghuls, whose bellies none may fill save Allah3!” The King laughed, and said he spake sooth; then, taking the Grandees of his Realm from the Hammam returned to his palace; but the barber passed the night in counting out his gold and laying it up in bags and sealing them; and he had with him twenty black slaves and a like number of Mamelukes and four slave girls to serve him. Now when morning morrowed, he opened the Hammam and sent out a crier to cry, saying, “Whoso entereth the Baths and washeth shall give that which he can afford and which his generosity requireth him to give.” Then he seated himself by the pay-chest4 and customers flocked in upon him, each putting down that which was easy to him, nor had eventide evened ere the chest was full of the good gifts of Allah the Most High. Presently the Queen desired to go to the Hammam, and when this came to Abu Sir’s knowledge, he divided the day on her account into two parts, appointing that between dawn and noon to men and that between midday and sundown to women.5 As soon as the Queen came, he stationed a handmaid behind the pay-chest; for he had taught four slave-girls the service of the Hammam, so that they were become expert bathwomen and tire-women. When the Queen entered, this pleased her and her breast waxed broad and she laid down a thousand dinars. Thus his report was noised abroad in the city, and all who entered the bath he entreated with honour, were they rich or poor; good came in upon him at every door and he made acquaintance with the royal guards and got him friends and intimates. The King himself used to come to him one day in every week, leaving with him a thousand dinars and the other days were for rich and poor alike; and he was wont to deal courteously with the folk and use them with the utmost respect. It chanced that the King’s sea-captain came in to him one day in the bath; so Abu Sir did off his dress and going in with him, proceeded to shampoo him and entreated him with exceeding courtesy. When he came forth, he made him sherbet and coffee; and when he would have given him somewhat, he swore that he would not accept him from aught. So the captain was under obligation to him, by reason of his exceeding kindness and courtesy and was perplexed how to requite the bath-man his generous dealing. Thus fared it with Abu Sir: but as regards Abu Kir, hearing all the people recounting wonders of the Baths and saying, “Verily, this Hammam is the Paradise of this world! Inshallah, O such an one, thou shalt go with us to-morrow to this delightful bath,” he said to himself, “Needs must I fare like the rest of the world, and see this bath that hath taken folk’s wits.” So he donned his richest dress and mounting a she-mule and bidding the attendance of four white slaves and four blacks, walking before and behind him, he rode to the Hammam. When he alighted at the door, he smelt the scent of burning aloes-wood and found people going in and out and the benches full of great and small. So he entered the vestibule and saw Abu Sir, who rose to him and rejoiced in him: but the dyer said to him, “Is this the way of well-born men? I have opened me a dyery and am become master-dyer of the city and acquainted with the King and have risen to prosperity and authority: yet camest thou not to me nor askest of me nor saidst, Where’s my comrade? For my part I sought thee in vain and sent my slaves and servants to make search for thee in all the Khans and other places; but they knew not whither thou hadst gone, nor could any one give me tidings of thee.” Said Abu Sir, “Did I not come to thee and didst thou not make me out a thief and bastinado me and dishonour me before the world?” At this Abu Kir made a show of concern and asked, “What manner of talk is this? Was it thou whom I beat?”; and Abu Sir answered, “Yes, ’twas I.” Whereupon Abu Kir swore to him a thousand oaths that he knew him not and said, “There was a fellow like thee, who used to come every day and steal the people’s stuff, and I took thee for him.” And he went on to pretend penitence, beating hand upon hand and saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great? Indeed we have sinned against thee; but would that thou hadst discovered thyself to me and said, I am such an one! Indeed the fault is with thee, for that thou madest not thyself known unto me, more especially seeing that I was distracted for much business.” Replied Abu Sir, “Allah pardon thee,6 O my comrade! This was foreordained in the Secret Purpose, and reparation is with Allah. Enter and put off thy clothes and bathe at thine ease.” Said the dyer, “I conjure thee, by Allah, O my brother, forgive me!”; and said Abu Sir, “Allah acquit thee of blame and forgive thee! Indeed this thing was decreed to me from all eternity.” Then asked Abu Kir, “Whence gottest thou this high degree?”; and answered Abu Sir, “He who prospered thee prospered me; for I went up to the King and described to him the fashion of the Hammam and he bade me build one.” And the dyer said, “Even as thou art beknown of the King, so also am I;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This magnificent “Bakhshish” must bring water into the mouths of all the bath-men in the coffee-house assembly.
2 i.e. the treasurer did not, as is the custom of such gentry, demand and receive a large “Bakhshish” on the occasion.
3 A fair specimen of clever Fellah chaff.
4 In the first room of the Hammam, called the Maslakh or stripping-place, the keeper sits by a large chest in which he deposits the purses and valuables of his customers and also makes it the caisse for the pay. Something of the kind is now done in the absurdly called “Turkish Baths” of London.
5 This is the rule in Egypt and Syria and a clout hung over the door shows that women are bathing. I have heard, but only heard, that in times and places when eunuchs went in with the women youths managed by long practice to retract the testicles so as to pass for castratos. It is hard to say what perseverance may not effect in this line; witness Orsini and his abnormal development of hearing, by exercising muscles which are usually left idle.
6 This reference to Allah shows that Abu Sir did not believe his dyer-friend.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abu Kir and Abu Sir were exchanging reproof and excuse, the dyer said to him, “Even as thou art beknown of the King, so also am I; and, Inshallah,-God willing-I will make him love and favour thee more than ever, for my sake, he knoweth not that thou art my comrade, but I will acquaint him of this and commend thee to him.” But Abu Sir said, “There needeth no commendation; for He who moveth man’s heart to love still liveth; and indeed the King and all his court affect me and have given me this and that.” And he told him the whole tale and said to him, “Put off thy clothes behind the chest and enter the Hammam, and I will go in with thee and rub thee down with the glove.” So he doffed his dress and Abu Sir, entering the bath with him, soaped him and gloved him and then dressed him and busied himself with his service till he came forth, when he brought him dinner and sherbets, whilst all the folk marvelled at the honour he did him. Then Abu Kir would have given him somewhat; but he swore that he would not accept aught from him and said to him, “Shame upon such doings! Thou art my comrade, and there is no difference between us.” Then Abu Kir observed, “By Allah, O my comrade, this is a mighty fine Hammam of thine, but there lacketh somewhat in its ordinance.” Asked Abu Sir, “And what is that?” and Abu Kir answered, “It is the depilatory,1 to wit, the paste compounded of yellow arsenic and quicklime which removeth the hair with comfort. Do thou prepare it and next time the King cometh, present it to him, teaching him how he shall cause the hair to fall off by such means, and he will love thee with exceeding love and honour thee.” Quoth Abu Sir, “Thou speakest sooth, and Inshallah, I will at once make it.” Then Abu Kir left him and mounted his mule and going to the King said to him, “I have a warning to give thee, O King of the age!” “And what is thy warning?” asked the King; and Abu Kir answered, “I hear that thou hast built a Hammam.” Quoth the King, “Yes: there came to me a stranger and I builded the Baths for him, even as I builded the dyery for thee; and indeed ’tis a mighty fine Hammam and an ornament to my city;” and he went on to describe to him the virtues of the bath. Quoth the dyer, “Hast thou entered therein?”; and quoth the King, “Yes.” Thereupon cried Abu Kir, “Alhamdolillah-praised be God,-who save thee from the mischief of yonder villain and foe of the Faith, I mean the bathkeeper!” The King enquired, “And what of him?”; and Abu Kir replied, “Know, O King of the age that, an thou enter the Hammam again, after this day, thou wilt surely perish.” “How so?” said the King; and the dyer said, “This bath-keeper is thy foe and the foe of the Faith, and he induced thee not to stablish this Bath but because he designed therein to poison thee. He hath made for thee somewhat and he will present it to thee when thou enterest the Hammam, saying, ‘This is a drug which, if one apply to his parts below the waist, will remove the hair with comfort.’ Now it is no drug, but a drastic dreg and a deadly poison; for the Sultan of the Christians hath promised this obscene fellow to release to him his wife and children, an he will kill thee; for they are prisoners in the hands of that Sultan. I myself was captive with him in their land, but I opened a dyery and dyed for them various colours, so that they conciliated the King’s heart to me and he bade me ask a boon of him. I sought of him freedom and he set me at liberty, whereupon I made my way to this city and seeing yonder man in the Hammam, said to him, ‘How didst thou effect thine escape and win free with thy wife and children?’ Quoth he, ‘We ceased not to be in captivity, I and my wife and children, till one day the King of the Nazarenes held a court whereat I was present, amongst a number of others; and as I stood amongst the folk, I heard them open out on the Kings and name them, one after other, till they came to the name of the King of this city, whereupon the King of the Christians cried out ‘Alas!’ and said, ‘None vexeth me2 in the world, but the King of such a city!3 Whosoever will contrive me his slaughter I will give him all he shall ask.’ So I went up to him and said, ‘An I compass for thee his slaughter, wilt thou set me free, me and my wife and my children?’ The King replied ‘Yes; and I will give thee to boot whatso thou shalt desire.’ So we agreed upon this and he sent me in a galleon to this city, where I presented myself to the King and he built me this Hammam. Now, therefore, I have nought to do but to slay him and return to the King of the Nazarenes, that I may redeem my children and my wife and ask a boon of him.’ Quoth I, “And how wilt thou go about to kill him?’; and quoth he, ‘By the simplest of all devices; for I have compounded him somewhat wherein is poison; so, when he cometh to the bath, I shall say to him, ‘Take this paste and anoint therewith thy parts below the waist for it will cause the hair4 to drop off.’ So he will take it and apply it to himself and the poison will work in him a day and a night, till it reacheth his heart and destroyeth him; and meanwhile I shall have made off and none will know that it was I slew him.’” “When I heard this,” added Abu Kir, “I feared for thee, my benefactor, wherefore I have told thee of what is doing.” As soon as the King heard the dyer’s story, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and said to him, “Keep this secret.” Then he resolved to visit the Hammam, that he might dispel doubt by supplying certainty; and when he entered, Abu Sir doffed his dress and betaking himself as of wont to the service of the King, proceeded to glove him; after which he said to him, “O King of the age, I have made a drug which assisteth in plucking out the lower hair.” Cried the King, “Bring it to me”: so the barber brought it to him and the King, finding it nauseous of smell, was assured that it was poison; wherefore he was incensed and called out to his guards, saying, “Seize him!” Accordingly they seized him and the King donned his dress and returned to his palace, boiling with fury, whilst none knew the cause of his indignation; for, of the excess of his wrath he had acquainted no one therewith and none dared ask him. Then he repaired to the audience-chamber and causing Abu Sir to be brought before him, with his elbows pinioned, sent for his Sea-captain and said to him, “Take this villain and set him in a sack with two quintals of lime unslacked and tie its mouth over his head. Then lay him in a cock-boat and row out with him in front of my palace, where thou wilt see me sitting at the lattice. Do thou say to me, ‘Shall I cast him in?’ and if I answer, ‘Cast him!’ throw the sack into the sea, so the quick-lime may be slaked on him to the intent that he shall die drowned and burnt.”5 “Hearkening and obeying;” quoth the Captain and taking Abu Sir from the presence carried him to an island facing the King’s palace, where he said to him, “Ho thou, I once visited thy Hammam and thou entreatedst me with honour and accomplishedst all my needs and I had great pleasure of thee: moreover, thou swarest that thou wouldst take no pay of me, and I love thee with a great love. So tell me how the case standeth between thee and the King and what abominable deed thou hast done with him that he is wroth with thee and hath commanded me that thou shouldst die this foul death.” Answered Abu Sir, “I have done nothing, nor weet I of any crime I have committed against him which meriteth this!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Dawá” (lit. remedy, medicine) the vulgar term: see vol. iv. 256: also called Rasmah, Núrah and many other names.
2 Arab. “Má Kahara-ní” = or none hath overcome me.
3 Bresl. Edit. “The King of Isbániya.” For the “Ishbán” (Spaniards) an ancient people descended from Japhet son of Noah and who now are no more, see Al–Mas’udi (Fr. Transl. I. 361). The “Herodotus of the Arabs” recognises only the “Jalálikah” or Gallicians, thus bearing witness to the antiquity and importance of the Gallego race.
4 Arab. “Sha’r,” properly, hair of body, pile, especially the pecten. See Bruckhardt (Prov. No. 202), “grieving for lack of a cow she made a whip of her bush,” said of those who console themselves by building Castles in Spain. The “parts below the waist” is the decent Turkish term for the privities.
5 The drowning is a martyr’s death, the burning is a foretaste of Hell-fire.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Sea-captain asked Abu Sir the cause of the King’s wrath with him, he replied, “By Allah, O my brother I have committed no crime against him which meriteth this!” Rejoined the Captain, “Verily, thou wast high in rank with the King, such as none ever won before thee, and all who are prosperous are envied. Haply some one was jealous of thy good fortune and threw out certain hints concerning thee to the King, by reason whereof he is become enraged against thee with rage so violent: but be of good cheer; no harm shall befal thee; for, even as thou entreatedst me generously, without acquaintanceship between me and thee, so now I will deliver thee. But, an if I release thee, thou must abide with me on this island till some galleon sail from our city to thy native land, when I will send thee thither therein.” Abu Sir kissed his hand and thanked him for that; after which the Captain fetched the quicklime and set it in a sack, together with a great stone, the size of a man, saying, “I put my trust in Allah!”1 Then he gave the barber a net, saying, “Cast this net into the sea, so haply thou mayst take somewhat of fish. For I am bound to supply the King’s kitchen with fish every day; but to-day I have been distracted from fishing by this calamity which hath befallen thee, and I fear lest the cook’s boys come to me in quest of fish and find none. So, an thou take aught, they will find it and thou wilt veil my face,2 whilst I go and play off my practice in front of the palace and feign to cast thee into the sea.” Answered Abu Sir, “I will fish the while; go thou and God help thee!” So the Captain set the sack in the boat and paddled till he came under the palace, where he saw the King seated at the lattice and said to him, “O King of the age, shall I cast him in?” “Cast him!” cried the King, and signed to him with his hand, when lo and behold!; something flashed like leven and fell into the sea. Now that which had fallen into the water was the King’s seal-ring; and the same was enchanted in such way that, when the King was wroth with any one and was minded to slay him, he had but to sign to him with his right hand, whereon was the signet-ring, and therefrom issued a flash of lightning, which smote the object, and thereupon his head fell from between his shoulders; and the troops obeyed him not, nor did he overcome the men of might save by means of the ring. So, when it dropped from his finger, he concealed the matter and kept silence, for that dared not say, “My ring is fallen into the sea,” for fear of the troops, lest they rise against him and slay him. On this wise it befel the King; but as regards Abu Sir, after the Captain had left him on the island he took the net and casting it into the sea presently drew it up full of fish; nor did he cease to throw it and pull it up full, till there was a great mound of fish before him. So he said in himself, “By Allah, his long while I have not eaten fish!”; and chose himself a large fat fish, saying, “When the Captain cometh back, I will bid him fry it for me, so I may dine on it.” Then he cut its throat with a knife he had with him; but the knife stuck in its gills and there he saw the King’s signet-ring; for the fish had swallowed it and Destiny had driven it to that island, where it had fallen into the net. He took the ring and drew it on his little finger,3 not knowing its peculiar properties. Presently, up came two of the cook’s boys in quest of fish and seeing Abu Sir, said to him, “O man, whither is the Captain gone?” “I know not,” said he and signed to them with his right hand; when, behold, the heads of both underlings dropped off from between their shoulders. At this Abu Sir was amazed and said, “Would I wot who slew them!” And their case was grievous to him and he was still pondering it, when the Captain suddenly returned and seeing the mound of fishes and two men lying dead and the seal-ring on Abu Sir’s finger, said to him, “O my brother, move not thy hand whereon is the signet-ring; else thou wilt kill me.” Abu Sir wondered at this speech and kept his hand motionless; whereupon the Captain came up to him and said, “Who slew these two men?” “By Allah, O my brother I wot not!” “Thou sayst sooth; but tell me whence hadst thou that ring?” “I found it in this fish’s gills.” “True,” said the Captain, “for I saw it fall flashing from the King’s palace and disappear in the sea, what time he signed towards thee,4 saying, Cast him in. So I cast the sack into the water, and it was then that the ring slipped from his finger and fell into the sea, where this fish swallowed it, and Allah drave it to thee, so that thou madest it thy prey, for this ring was thy lot; but kennest thou its property?” Said Abu Sir, “I knew not that it had any properties peculiar to it;” and the Captain said, “Learn, then, that the King’s troops obey him not save for fear of this signet-ring, because it is spelled, and when he was wroth with any one and had a mind to kill him, he would sign at him therewith and his head would drop from between his shoulders; for there issued a flash of lightning from the ring and its ray smote the object of his wrath, who died forthright.” At this, Abu Sir rejoiced with exceeding joy and said to the Captain, “Carry me back to the city;” and he said, “That will I, now that I no longer fear for thee from the King; for, wert thou to sign at him with thy hand, purposing to kill him, his head would fall down between thy hands; and if thou be minded to slay him and all his host, thou mayst slaughter them without let or hindrance.” So saying, he embarked him in the boat and bore him back to the city; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Meaning that if the trick had been discovered the Captain would have taken the barber’s place. We have seen (vol. i. 63) the Prime Minister superintending the royal kitchen and here the Admiral fishes for the King’s table. It is even more naïve than the Court of Alcinous.
2 Bresl. Edit. xi. 32: i.e. save me from disgrace.
3 Arab. “Khinsir” or “Khinsar,” the little finger or the middle finger. In Arabic each has its own name or names which is also that of the corresponding toe, e.g. Ibhám (thumb); Sabbábah, Musabbah or Da’áah (fore-finger); Wastá (medius); Binsir (annularis ring-finger) and Khinsar (minimus). There are also names for the several spaces between the fingers. See the English Arabic Dictionary (London, Kegan Paul an Co., 1881) by the Revd. Dr. Badger, a work of immense labour and research but which I fear has been so the learned author a labour of love not of profit.
4 Meaning of course that the King signed towards the sack in which he supposed the victim to be, but the ring fell off before it could take effect. The Eastern story-teller often balances his multiplicity of words and needless details by a conciseness and an elliptical style which make his meaning a matter of divination.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Captain embarked with Abu Sir he bore him back to the city, so Abu Sir landed and going up to the palace, entered the council-chamber, where he found the King seated facing his officers, in sore cark and care by reason of the seal-ring and daring not tell any of his folk anent its loss. When he saw Abu Sir, he said to him, “Did we not cast thee into the sea? How hast thou contrived to come forth of it?” Abu Sir replied, “O King of the age, whenas thou badest throw me into the sea, thy Captain carried me to an island and asked me of the cause of thy wrath against me, saying, ‘What hast thou done with the King, that he should decree thy death?’ I answered, ‘By Allah, I know not that I have wrought him any wrong!’ Quoth he, ‘Thou wast high in rank with the King, and haply some one envied thee and threw out certain hints concerning htee to him, so that he is become incensed against thee. But when I visited thee in thy Hammam, thou entreatedst me honourably, and I will requite thee thy hospitality to me by setting thee free and sending thee back to thine own land.’ Then he set a great stone in the sack in my stead and cast it into the sea; but, when thou signedst to him to throw me in, thy seal-ring dropped from thy finger into the main, and a fish swallowed it. Now I was on the island a-fishing, and this fish came up in the net with the others; whereupon I took it, intending to broil it; but, when I opened its belly, I found the signet-ring therein; so I took it and put it on my finger. Presently, up came two of the servants of the kitchen, questing fish, and I signed to them with my hand, knowing not the property of the seal-ring, and their heads fell off. Then the Captain came back, and seeing the ring on my finger, acquainted me with its spell; and behold, I have brought it back to thee, for that thou dealtest kindly by me and entreatedst me with the utmost honour, nor is that which thou hast done me of kindness lost upon me. Here is thy ring; take it! But an I have done with thee aught deserving of death, tell me my crime and slay me and thou shalt be absolved of sin in shedding my blood.” So saying, he pulled the ring from his finger and gave it to the King who, seeing Abu Sir’s noble conduct, took the ring and put it on and felt life return to him afresh. Then he rose to his feet and embracing the barber, said to him, “O man, thou art indeed of the flower of the well-born! Blame me not, but forgive me the wrong I have done thee. Had any but thou gotten hold of this ring, he had never restored it to me.” Answered Abu Sir, “O King of the age, an thou wouldst have me forgive thee, tell me what was my fault which drew down thine anger upon me, so that thou commandedst to do me die.” Rejoined the King, “By Allah, ’tis clear to me that thou art free and guiltless in all things of offence since thou hast done this good deed; only the dyer denounced thee to me in such and such words;” and he told him all that Abu Kir had said. Abu Sir replied, “By Allah, O King of the age, I know no King of the Nazarenes nor during my days have ever journeyed to a Christian country, nor did it ever come into my mind to kill thee. But this dyer was my comrade and neighbour in the city of Alexandria where life was straitened upon us; therefore we departed thence, to seek our fortunes, by reason of the narrowness of our means at home, after we had recited the Opening Chapter of the Koran together, pledging ourselves that he who got work should feed him who lacked work; and there befel me with him such and such things.” Then he went on to relate to the King all that had betided him with Abu Kir the dyer; how he had robbed him of his dirhams and had left him alone and sick in the Khan-closet and how the door-keeper had fed him of his own monies till Allah recovered him of his sickness, when he went forth and walked about the city with his budget, as was his wont, till he espied a dyery, about which the folk were crowding; so he looked at the door and seeing Abu Kir seated on a bench there, went in to salute him, whereupon he accused him of being a thief and beat him a grievous beating; brief, he told him his whole tale, from first to last, and added, “O King of the age, ’twas he who counselled me to make the depilatory and present it to thee, saying, ‘The Hammam is perfect in all things but that it lacketh this’; and know, O King of the age, that this drug is harmless and we use it in our land where ’tis one of the requisites of the bath; but I had forgotten it: so, when the dyer visited the Hammam I entreated him with honour and he reminded me of it, and enjoined me to make it forthwith. But do thou send after the porter of such a Khan and the workmen of the dyery and question them all of that which I have told thee.” Accordingly the King sent for them and questioned them one and all and they acquainted him with the truth of the matter. Then he summoned the dyer, saying, “Bring him barefooted, bareheaded and with elbows pinioned!” Now he was sitting in his house, rejoicing in Abu Sir’s death; but ere he could be ware, the King’s guards rushed in upon him and cuffed him on the nape, after which they bound him and bore him into the presence, where he saw Abu Sir seated by the King’s side and the door-keeper of the Khan and workmen of the dyery standing before him. Quoth the door-keeper to him, “Is no this thy comrade whom thou robbedst of his silvers and leftest with me sick in the closet doing such and such by him?” And the workmen said to him, “Is not this he whom thou badest us seize and beat?” Therewith Abu Kir’s baseness was made manifest to the King and he was certified that he merited torture yet sorer than the torments of Munkar and Nakír.1 So he said to his guards, “Take him and parade him about the city and the markets;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 See vol. v. 111.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicous King, that when the King heard the words spoken by the door-keeper of the Caravanserai and the workmen of the dyery, he was certified of the vileness of Abu Kir; so he upbraided him with flout and fleer and said to his guards, “Take him and parade him about the city and the market-streets; then set him in a sack and cast him into the sea.” Whereupon quoth Abu Sir, “O King of the age, accept my intercession for him, for I pardon him all he hath done with me.” But quoth the King, “An thou pardon him all his offences against thee, I cannot pardon him his offences against me.” And he cried out, saying, “Take him.” So they took him and paraded him about the city, after which they set him in a sack with quicklime and cast him into the sea, and he died, drowned and burnt. Then said the King to the barber, “O Abu Sir, ask of me what thou wilt and it shall be given thee.” And he answered, saying, “I ask of thee to send me back to my own country, for I care no longer to tarry here.” Then the King gifted him great store of gifts, over and above that which he had whilome bestowed on the crew of this galleon were Mamelukes; so he gave him these also, after offering to make him his Wazir whereto the barber consented not. Presently he farewelled the King and set sail in his own ship manned by his own crew; nor did he cast anchor till he reached Alexandria and made fast to the shore there. Then he landed and one of his Mamelukes, seeing a sack on the beach, said to Abu Sir, “O my lord, there is a great heavy sack on the sea-shore, with the mouth tied up and I know not what therein.” So Abu Sir came up and opening the sack, found therein the remains of Abu Kir, which the sea had borne thither. He took it forth and burying it near Alexandria, built over the grave a place of visitation and endowed it with mortmain writing over the door these couplets,
“Man is known among me as his deeds attest;
Which make noble origin manifest:
Backbite not, lest other men bit thy back;
Who saith aught, the same shall to him be addrest:
Shun immodest words and indecent speech
When thou speakest in earnest or e’en in jest.1
We bear with the dog which behaves itself
But the lion is chained lest he prove a pest:
And the desert carcases swim the main
While union-pearls on the sandbank rest2:
No sparrow would hustle the sparrow-hawk,
Were it not by folly and weakness prest:
A-sky is written on page of air
‘Who doth kindly of kindness shall have the best!’
‘Ware of gathering sugar from bitter gourd:3
’Twill prove to its origin like in taste.”
After this Abu Sir abode awhile, till Allah took him to Himself, and they buried him hard by the tomb of his comrade Abu Kir; wherefore that place was called Abu Kir and Abu Sir; but it is now known as Abu Kir only. This, then, is that which hath reached us of their history, and glory be to Him who endureth for ever and aye and by whose will interchange the night and the day. And of the stories they tell is one anent
There was once a Fisherman named Abdullah, who had a large family, to wit, nine children and their mother, so was he poor, very poor, owning naught save his net. Every day he used to go to the sea a-fishing, and if he caught little, he sold it and spent the price on his children, after the measure of that which Allah vouchsafed him of provision; but if he caught much, he would cook a good mess of meat and buy fruit and spend without stint till nothing was left him, saying to himself, “The daily bread of to-morrow will come to-morrow.” Presently, his wife gave birth to another child, making a total of ten, and it chanced that day that he had nothing at all; so she said to him, “O my master, see and get me somewhat wherewithal I may sustain myself.” Quoth he, “I am going (under favour of Almighty Allah) this day seawards to fish on the luck of this new-born child, that we may see its fair fortune;” and quoth she, “Put thy trust in Allah!” So he took his net and went down to the sea-shore, where he cast it on the luck of the little one, saying, “O my God, make his living of ease not of unease, and abundant, not scant!” Then he waited awhile and drew in the net, which came up full of rubbish and sand and pebbles and weeds, and he saw therein no sign of fish neither muchel nor little. He cast it again and waited, then drew it in, but found no catch in it, and threw it a third and a fourth and a fifth time still not a single fish came up. So he removed to another place beseeching his daily bread of Allah Almighty and thus he kept working till the end of the day, but caught not so much as a minnow;2 whereat he fell a-marvelling in himself and said self-communing, “Hath Allah then created this new-born child without lot of provision? This may never, never be. He who slitteth the corners of the lips hath pledged Himself for its provision, because Almighty Allah is the Bountiful, the Provider!”3 So saying, he shouldered his net and turned him homewards, broken-spirited and heavy at heart about his family, for that he had left them without food, more by token that his wife was in the straw. And as he continued trudging along and saying in himself, “How shall I do and what shall I say to the children to-night?” he came to a baker’s oven and saw a crowd about it; for the season was one of dearth and in those days food was scant with the folk; so people were proffering the baker money, but he paid no heed to any of them, by reason of the dense crowd. The fisherman stood looking and snuffing he smell of the hot bread (and indeed his soul longed for it, by reason of his hunger), till the baker caught sight of him and cried out to him, “Come hither, O fisherman!” So he went up to him, and the baker said, “Dost thou want bread?” But he was silent. Quoth the baker, “Speak out and be not ashamed, for Allah is bountiful. An thou have no silver, I will give thee bread and have patience with thee till weal betide thee.” And quoth the fisherman, “By Allah, O master, I have indeed no money! But give me bread enough for my family, and I will leave thee this net in pawn till the morrow.” Rejoined the baker, “Nay, my poor fellow, this net is thy shop and the door of thy daily subsistence; so an thou pawn it, wherewithal wilt thou fish? Tell me how much will suffice thee?”; and replied the fisherman, “Ten half-dirhams’ worth.”4 So he gave him ten Nusfs worth of bread and ten in silver saying, “Take these ten Nusfs and cook thyself a mess of meat therewith; so wilt thou owe me twenty, for which bring me fish to-morrow; but, an thou catch nothing again, come and take thy bread and thy ten Nusfs, and I will have patience with thee till better luck betide thee,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The tale begins upon the model of “Júdar and his Brethren,” vi. 213. Its hero’s full name is Abdu’lláhi=Slave of Allah, which vulgar Egyptians pronounce Abdallah and purer speakers, Badawin and others, Abdullah: either form is therefore admissible. It is more common among Moslems but not unknown to Christians especially Syrians who borrow it from the Syriac Alloh. Mohammed is said to have said, “The names most approved by Allah are Abdu’llah, Abd al-Rahmán (Slave of the Compassionate) and such like” (Pilgrimage i. 20).
2 Arab. “Sírah” here probably used of the Nile-sprat (Clupea Sprattus Linn.) or Sardine of which Forsk says, “Sardinn in Al–Yaman is applied to a Red Sea fish of the same name.” Hasselquist the Swede notes that Egyptians stuff the Sardine with marjoram and eat it fried even when half putrid.
3 i.e. by declaring in the Koran (lxvii. 14; lxxiv. 39; lxxviii. 69; lxxxviii. 17), that each creature hath its appointed term and lot; especially “Thinketh man that he shall be left uncared for?” (xl. 36).
4 Arab. “Nusf,” see vol. ii. 37.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the baker said to the fisherman, “Take whatso thou needest and I will have patience with thee till better luck betide thee, after the which thou shalt bring me fish for all thou owest me.” Said the fisherman, Almighty Allah reward thee, and requite thee for me with all good!” Then he took the bread and the coins and went away, glad at heart, and buying what he could returned to his wife whom he found sitting up, soothing the children, who were weeping for hunger, and saying to them, “At once your father will be here with what ye may eat.” So he set the bread before them and they ate, whilst he told his wife what had befallen him, and she said, “Allah is bountiful.”1 On the morrow, he shouldered his net and went forth of his house, saying, “I beseech thee, O Lord, to vouchsafe me this day that which shall whiten my face with the baker!”2 When he came to the sea-shore, he proceeded to cast his net and pull it in; but there came up no fish therein; and he ceased not to toil thus till ended day but he caught nothing. Then he set out homewards, in great concern, and the way to his house lay past the baker’s oven; so he said to himself, “How shall I go home? But I will hasten my pace that the baker may not see me.” When he reached the shop, he saw a crowd about it and walked the faster, being ashamed to face his creditor; but the baker raised his eyes to him and cried out to him, saying, “Ho, fisherman! Come and take thy bread and spending-money. Meseems thou forgettest.” Quoth Abdullah, “By Allah, I had not forgotten; but I was ashamed to face thee, because I have caught no fish this day;” and quoth the baker, “Be not ashamed. Said I not to thee, At thy leisure,3 till better luck betide thee?” Then he gave him the bread and the ten Nusfs and he returned and told his wife, who said, “Allah is bountiful. Better luck shall yet betide thee and thou shalt give the baker his due, Inshallah.” He ceased not doing on this wise forty days, betaking himself daily to the sea, from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof, and returning home without fish; and still he took bread and spending-money of the baker, who never once named the fish to him nor neglected him nor kept him waiting like the folk,4 but gave him the bread and the ten half-dirhams without delay. Whenever the fisherman said to him, “O my brother, reckon with me,” he would say, “Be off:5 this is no time for reckoning. Wait till better luck betide thee, and then I will reckon with thee.” And the fisherman would bless him and go away thanking him. On the one-and-fortieth day, he said to his wife, “I have a mind to tear up the net and be quit of this life.” She asked, “Why wilt thou do this?”; and he answered, “Meseems there is an end of my getting my daily bread from the waters. How long shall this last? By Allah, I burn with shame before the baker and I will go no more to the sea, so I may not pass by his oven, for I have none other way home; and every time I pass he calleth me and giveth me the bread and the ten silvers. How much longer shall I run in debt to him?” The wife replied, “Alhamdolillah — lauded be the Lord, the Most High, who hath inclined his heart to thee, so that he giveth thee our daily bread! What dislikest thou in this?”; and the husband rejoined, “I owe him now a mighty great sum of dirhams, and there is no doubt but that he will demand his due.” “Hath he vexed thee with words?” “No, on the contrary, he still refuseth to reckon with me, saying, ‘Wait till better luck betide thee.’” “If he press thee, say to him, ‘Wait till there come the good luck for which we hope, thou and I.’” “And when will the good luck come that we hope for?” “Allah is bountiful.” “Sooth thou speakest!” So saying he shouldered his net and went down to the sea-side, praying, “O Lord provide thou me, though but with one fish, that I may give it to the baker!” And he cast his net into the sea and pulling it in, found it heavy; so he tugged at it till he was tired with sore travail. But when he got it ashore, he found in it a dead donkey swollen and stinking; whereat his senses sickened and he freed it from the net, saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Indeed, I can no more! I say to that wife of mine, ‘There is no more provision for me in the waters; let me leave this craft.’ And she still answereth me, ‘Allah is bountiful: good will presently betide thee.’ Is this dead ass the good whereof she speaketh?” And he grieved with the sorest grief. Then he turned to another place, so he might remove from the stench of the dead donkey, and cast his net there and waited a full hour: then he drew it in and found it heavy. Thereupon quoth he, “Good; we are hauling up all the dead donkeys in the sea and ridding it of its rubbish.6” However he gave not over tugging at the net, till blood came from the palms of his hands, and when he got it ashore, he saw a man7 in it and took him for one of the Ifrits of the lord Solomon, whom he was wont to imprison in cucurbits of brass and cast him into the main, believing that the vessel had burst for length of years and that the Ifrit had come forth and fallen into the net; wherefore he fled from him, crying out and saying, “Mercy, mercy, O Ifrit of Solomon!” But the Adamite called out to him from within the net and said, “Come hither, O fisherman, and flee not from me; for I am human like thyself. Release me, so thou mayst get a recompense for me of Allah.” Whenas he heard these words, the fisherman took heart and coming up to him, said to him, “Art thou not an Ifrit of the Jinn?”; and replied the other, “No: I am a mortal and a believer in Allah and His Apostle.” Asked the fisherman, “Who threw thee into the sea?”; and the other answered, “I am of the children of the sea, and was going about therein, when thou castest the net over me. We are people who obey Allah’s commandments and show loving-kindness unto the creatures of the Almighty, and but that I fear and dread to be of the disobedient, I had torn thy net; but I accept that which the Lord hath decreed unto me; wherefore by setting me free thou becomest my owner and I thy captive. Wilt thou then set me free for the love8 of Almighty Allah and make a covenant with me and become my comrade? I will come to thee every day in this place, and do thou come to me and bring me a gift of the fruits of the land. For with you are grapes and figs and water-melons and peaches and pomegranates and so forth, and all thou bringest me will be acceptable unto me. Moreover, with us are coral and pearls and chrysolites and emeralds and rubies and other gems, and I will fill thee the basket, wherein thou bringest me the fruit, with precious stones of the jewels of the sea.9 What sayest thou to this, O my brother?” Quoth the fisherman, “Be the Opening Chapter of the Koran between thee and me upon this!” So they recited together the Fátihah, and the fisherman loosed the Merman from the net and asked him, “What is thy name?” He replied, “My name is Abdullah of the sea; and if thou come hither and see me not, call out and say, ‘Where are thou, O Abdullah, O Merman?’ and I will be with thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Allah Karim” (which Turks pronounce Kyerím) a consecrated formula used especially when a man would show himself resigned to “small mercies.” The fisherman’s wife was evidently pious as she was poor; and the description of the pauper household is simple and effective.
2 This is repeated in the Mac. Edit. pp. 496–97; an instance amongst many of most careless editing.
3 Arab. “Alà mahlak” (vulg.), a popular phrase, often corresponding with our “Take it coolly.”
4 For “He did not keep him waiting, as he did the rest of the folk.” Lane prefers “nor neglected him as men generally would have done.” But we are told supra that the baker “paid no heed to the folk by reason of the dense crowd.”
5 Arab. “Ruh!” the most abrupt form, whose sound is coarse and offensive as the Turkish yell, “Gyel!”=come here.
6 Bresl. Edit. xi. 50–51.
7 Arab. “Ádami”=an Adamite, one descended from the mythical and typical Adam for whom see Philo Judæus. We are told in one place a few lines further on that the merman is of humankind; and in another that he is a kind of fish (Night dccccxlv). This belief in mermen, possible originating with the caricatures of the human face in the intelligent seal and stupid manatee, is universal. Al–Kazwini declares that a waterman with a tail was dried and exhibited, and that in Syria one of them was married to a woman and had by her a son “who understood the languages of both his parents.” The fable was refined to perfect beauty by the Greeks: the mer-folk of the Arabs, Hindus and Northerners (Scandinavians, etc) are mere grotesques with green hair, etc. Art in its highest expression never left the shores of the Mediterranean, and there is no sign that it ever will.
8 Here Lane translates “Wajh” lit. “the desire of seeing the face of God,” and explains in a note that a “Muslim holds this to be the greatest happiness that can be enjoyed in Paradise.” But I have noted that the tenet of seeing the countenance of the Creator, except by the eyes of spirit, is a much disputed point amongst Moslems.
9 Artful enough is this contrast between the squalid condition of the starving fisherman and the gorgeous belongings of the Merman.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah of the sea thus enjoined the other, “An thou come hither and see me not, call out and say, ‘Where art thou, O Abdullah, O Merman?’ and I will be with thee forthwith. But thou, what is thy name?” Quoth the fisherman, “My name also is Abdullah;” and quoth the other, “Thou art Abdullah of the land and I am Abdullah of the Sea; but tarry here till I go and fetch thee a present.” And the fisherman repented him of having released him and said to himself, “How know I that he will come back to me? Indeed, he beguiled me, so that I loosed him, and now he will laugh at me.1 Had I kept him, I might have made a show of him for the diversion of the city-folk and taken silver from all men and gone with him to the houses of the great.” And he repented him of having set him free and said, “Thou hast let thy prey from thy hand away.” But, as he was thus bemoaning his folly in releasing the prisoner, behold, Abdullah the merman returned to him, with both hands full of pearls and coral and smaragds and rubies and other gems, and said to him, “Take these, O my brother, and excuse me; had I a fish-basket2 I would have filled it for thee.” Abdullah the fisherman rejoiced and took the jewels from the Merman who said to him, “Every day come hither, before sunrise,” and farewelling him, went down into the sea; whilst the other returned to the city, rejoicing, and stayed not walking till he came to the baker’s oven and said to him, “O my brother, good luck is come to us at last; so do thou reckon with me.” Answered the baker, “There needeth no reckoning. An thou have aught, give it me: and if thou have naught, take thy bread and spending-money and begone, against weal betide thee.” Rejoined the fisherman, “O my friend, indeed weal hath betided me of Allah’s bounty, and I owe thee much money; but take this.” So saying, he took for him a handful of the pearls and coral and rubies and other jewels he had with him (the handful being about half of the whole), and gave them to the baker, saying, “Give me some ready money to spend this day, till I sell these jewels.” So the baker gave him all the money he had in hand and all the bread in his basket and rejoiced in the jewels, saying, “I am thy slave and thy servant.” Then he set all the bread on his head and following the fisherman home, gave it to his wife and children, after which he repaired to the market and brought meat and greens and all manner fruit. Moreover, he left his oven and abode with Abdullah all that day, busying himself in his service and fulfilling all his affairs. Said the fisherman, “O my brother, thou weariest thyself;” and the baker replied, “This is my duty, for I am become thy servant and thou hast overwhelmed me with thy boons.” Rejoined the fisherman, “’Tis thou who wast my benefactor in the days of dearth and distress.” And the baker passed that night with him enjoying good cheer and became a faithful friend to him. Then the fisherman told his wife what had befallen him with the Merman, whereat she rejoiced and said, “Keep thy secret, lest the government come down upon thee;” but he said, “Though I keep my secret from all men, yet will I not hide it from the baker.” On the morrow, he rose betimes and, shouldering a basket which he had filled in the evening with all manner fruits, repaired before sunrise to the sea-shore, and setting down the crate on the water-edge called out, “Where art thou, O Abdullah, O Merman?” He answered, “Here am I, at thy service;” and came forth to him. The fisherman gave him the fruit and he took it and plunging into the sea with it, was absent a full hour, after which time he came up, with the fish-basket full of all kinds of gems and jewels. The fisherman set it on his head and went away; and, when he came to the oven, the baker said to him, “O my lord, I have baked thee forty buns3 and have sent them to thy house; and now I will bake some firsts and as soon as all is done, I will bring it to thy house and go and fetch thee greens and meat.” Abdullah handed to him three handfuls of jewels out of the fish-basket and going home, set it down there. Then he took a gem of price of each sort and going to the jewel-bazar, stopped at the Syndic’s shop and said to him, “Buy these precious stones of me.” “Show them to me,” said the Shaykh. So he showed them to him and the jeweller said, “Hast thou aught beside these?”; and Abdullah replied, “I have a basket-full at home.” The Syndic asked, “And where is thine house?” and the fisherman answered, “In such a quarter”; whereupon the Shaykh took the jewels from him and said to his followers, “Lay hold of him, for he is the thief who stole the jewellery of the Queen, the wife of our Sultan.” And he bade beat him. So they bastinadoed him and pinioned him; after which the Syndic and all the people of the jewel-market arose and set out for the palace, saying, “We have caught the thief.” Quoth one, “None robbed such an one but this villain,” and quoth another, “’Twas none but he stole all that was in such an one’s house;” and some said this and others said that. All this while he was silent and spake not a word nor returned a reply, till they brought him before the King, to whom said the Syndic, “O King of the age, when the Queen’s necklace was stolen, thou sentest to acquaint us of the theft, requiring of us the discovery of the culprit; wherefore I strove beyond the rest of the folk and have taken the thief for thee. Here he standeth before thee, and these be the jewels we have recovered from him.” Thereupon the King said to the chief eunuch, “Carry these jewels for the Queen to see, and say to her, ‘Are these thy property thou hast lost?’” So the eunuch took the jewels and went in with them to the Queen, who seeing their lustre marvelled at them and sent to the King to say, “I have found my necklace in my own place and these jewels are not my property; nay, they are finer than those of my necklace. So oppress not the man;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lit. “Verily he laughed at me so that I set him free.” This is a fair specimen of obscure conciseness.
2 Arab. “Mishannah,” which Lane and Payne translate basket: I have always heard it used of an old gunny-bag or bag of plaited palm-leaves.
3 Arab. “Kaff Shurayk” applied to a single bun. The Shurayk is a bun, an oblong cake about the size of a man’s hand (hence the term “Kaff”=palm) with two long cuts and sundry oblique crosscuts, made of leavened dough, glazed with egg and Samn (clarified butter) and flavoured with spices (cinnamon, curcuma, artemisia and prunes mahalab) and with aromatic seeds, (Rihat al-‘ajin) of which Lane (iii. 641) specifies aniseed, nigella, absinthium, (Artemisia arborescens) and Káfúrah (A. camphorata Monspeliensis) etc. The Shurayk is given to the poor when visiting the tombs and on certain fêtes.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King’s wife sent to the King to say, “These are not my property; nay, these gems are finer than those of my necklace. So oppress not this man; but, if he will sell them, buy them for thy daughter Umm al-Su’úd,1 that we may set them in a necklace for her.” When the eunuch returned and told the King what the Queen said, he damned the Syndic of the jewellers, him and his company, with the damnation of Ád and Thamúd,2 and they said to him, “O King of the age, we knew this man for a poor fisherman and deemed such things too much for him,3 so we supposed that he had stolen them.” Cried the King, “O ye filthy villains, begrudge ye a True Believer good fortune? Why did ye not make due enquiry of him? Haply Allah Almighty hath vouchsafed him these things from a source whereupon he reckoned not. Why did ye make him out a thief and disgrace him amongst the folk? Begone, and may Allah never bless you!” So they went out affrighted and the King said to Abdullah, “O man (Allah bless thee in all He hath bestowed on thee!), no harm shall befal thee; but tell me truly, whence gottest thou these jewels; for I am a King yet have I not the like of them.” The fisherman replied, “O King of the age, I have a fish-basket full of them at home and the case is thus and thus.” Then he told him of his friendship with the Merman, adding, “We have made a covenant together that I shall bring him every day a basket full of fruit and that he shall fill me the basket with these jewels.” Quoth the King, O man this is thy lucky lot; but wealth needeth rank,4 I will defend thee for the present against men’s domineering; but haply I shall be deposed or die and another rule in my stead, and he shall slay thee because of his love of the goods of this world and his covetousness. So I am minded to marry thee to my daughter and make thee my Wazir and bequeath thee the kingdom after me, so none may hanker for thy riches when I am gone. Then said he, “Hie with this man to the Hammam.” So they bore him to the Baths and bathed his body and robed him in royal raiment, after which they brought him back to the King, and he made him his Wazir and sent to his house couriers and the soldiers of his guard and all the wives of the notables, who clad his wife and children in Kingly costume and mounting the woman in a horse-litter, with the little child in her lap, walked before her to the palace, escorted by the troops and couriers and officers. They also brought her elder children in to the King who made much of them, taking them in his lap and seating them by his side; for they were nine children male and the King had no son and heir nor had he been blessed with any child save this one daughter, Umm al-Su’ud hight. Meanwhile the Queen entreated Abdullah’s wife with honour and bestowed favours on her and made her Waziress to her. Then the King bade draw up the marriage contract between his daughter and Abdullah of the Land5 who assigned to her, as her dower, all the gems and precious stones in his possession, and they opened the gates of festival. The King commanded by proclamation to decorate the city, in honour of his daughter’s wedding. Then Abdullah went in unto the Princess and abated her maidenhead. Next morning the King looked out of the lattice and saw Abdullah carrying on his head a fish-crate full of fruit. So he called to him, “What hast thou there, O my son- in-law, and whither wendest thou?” The fisherman replied, “To my friend, Abdullah the Merman;” and the King said, “O my son-in-law, this is no time to go to thy comrade.” Quoth Abdullah, “Indeed, I fear to break tryst with him, lest he reckon me a liar and say, ‘The things of the world have diverted thee from me,’” and quoth the King, “Thou speakest sooth: go to thy friend and God help thee!” So he walked through the city on his way to his companion; and, as he went, he heard the folk who knew him say, “There goeth the King’s son-in-law to exchange fruit for gems;” whilst those who knew him not said, “Ho, fellow, how much a pound? Come, sell to me.” And he answered, saying, “Wait till I come back to thee,” for that he would not hurt the feelings of any man. Then he fared on till he came to the sea-shore and foregathered with his friend Abdullah the Merman, to whom he delivered the fruit, receiving gems in return. He ceased not doing thus till one day, as he passed by the baker’s oven, he found it closed; and so he did ten days, during which time the oven remained shut and he saw nothing of the baker. So he said to himself, “This is a strange thing! Would I wot whither the baker went!” Then he enquired of his neighbour, saying, “O my brother, where is thy neighbour the baker and what hath Allah done with him?”; and the other responded, “O my lord, he is sick and cometh not forth of his house.” “Where is his house?” asked Abdullah; and the other answered, “In such a quarter.” So he fared thither and enquired of him; but, when he knocked at the door, the baker looked out of window and seeing his friend the fisherman, full basket on head, came down and opened the door to him. Abdullah entered and throwing himself on the baker embraced him and wept, saying, “How dost thou, O my friend? Every day, I pass by thine oven and see it unopened; so I asked thy neighbour, who told me that thou wast sick; therefore I enquired for thy house, that I might see thee.” Answered the baker, “Allah requite thee for me with all good! Nothing aileth me; but it reached me that the King had taken thee, for that certain of the folk had lied against thee and accused thee of being a robber wherefore I feared and shut shop and hid myself.” “True,” said Abdullah and told him all that had befallen him with the King and the Shaykh of the jewellers’ bazar, adding “Moreover, the King hath given me his daughter to wife and made me his Wazir;” and, after a pause, “So do thou take what is in this fish-basket to thy share and fear naught.” Then he left him, after having done away from his affright, and returned with the empty crate to the King, who said to him, “O my son-in-law, ‘twould seem thou hast not foregathered with thy friend the Merman to-day.” Replied Abdullah, “I went to him but that which he gave me I gave to my gossip the baker, to whom I owe kindness.” “Who may be this baker?” asked the King; and the fisherman answered, “He is a benevolent man, who did with me thus and thus in the days of my poverty and never neglected me a single day nor hurt my feelings.” Quoth the King, “What is his name?”; and quoth the fisherman “His name is Abdullah the Baker; and my name is Abdullah of the Land and that of my friend the Merman Abdullah of the Sea.” Rejoined the King, “And my name also is Abdullah; and the servants of Allah6 are all brethren. So send and fetch thy friend the baker, that I may make him my Wazir of the left.”7 So he sent for the baker who speedily came to the presence, and the King invested him with the Wazirial uniform and made him Wazir of the left, making Abdullah of the Land his Wazir of the right. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “Mother of Prosperities.”
2 Tribes of pre-historic Arabs who were sent to Hell for bad behaviour to Prophets Sálih and Húd. See vol. iii. 294.
3 “Too much for him to come by lawfully.”
4 To protect it. The Arab. is “Jáh”=high station, dignity.
5 The European reader, especially feminine, will think this a hard fate for the pious first wife but the idea would not occur to the Moslem mind. After bearing ten children a woman becomes “Umm al-banáti w’al-banín”=a mother of daughters and sons, and should hold herself unfit for love-disport. The seven ages of womankind are thus described by the Arabs and I translate the lines after a well-known (Irish) model:—
From ten years to twenty —
Of beauty there’s plenty.
From twenty to thirty —
Fat, fair and alert t’ye.
From thirty to forty —
Lads and lasses she bore t’ye.
From forty to fifty —
An old’un and shifty.
From fifty to sixty —
A sorrow that sticks t’ye.
From sixty to seventy —
A curse of God sent t’ye.
For these and other sentiments upon the subject of women and marriage see Pilgrimage ii. 285–87.
6 Abdullah, as has been said, means “servant or rather slave of Allah.”
7 Again the “Come to my arms, my slight acquaintance,” of the Anti–Jacobin.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King made his son-in-law, Abdullah of the Land, Wazir of the right and Abdullah the baker Wazir of the left. In such condition the fisherman abode a whole year, every day carrying for the Merman the crate full of fruit and receiving it back, full of jewels; and when fruit failed from the gardens, he carried him raisins and almonds and filberts and walnuts and figs and so forth; and all that he brought for him the Merman accepted and returned him the fish-basket full of jewels according to his custom. Now it chanced one day that he carried him the crate, full of dry1 fruits as was his wont, and his friend took them from him. Then they sat down to converse, Abdullah the fisherman on the beach and Abdullah the Merman in the water near the shore, and discoursed; and the talk went round between them, till it fell upon the subject of sepulchres; whereat quoth the Merman, “O my brother, they say that the Prophet (whom Allah assain and save!) is buried with you on the land. Knowest thou his tomb?” Abdullah replied, “Yes; it lieth in a city called Yathrib.2” Asked the Merman, “And do the people of the land visit it?” “Yes,” answered the fisherman, and the other said, “I give you joy, O people of the land, of visiting3 that noble Prophet and compassionate, which whoso visiteth meriteth his intercession! Hast thou made such visitation, O my brother?” Replied the fisherman, “No: for I was poor and had not the necessary sum4 to spend by the way, nor have I been in easy case but since I knew thee and thou bestowedst on me this good fortune. But such visitation behoveth me after I have pilgrimed to the Holy House of Allah5 and naught withholdeth,me therefrom but my love to thee, because I cannot leave thee for one day.” Rejoined the Merman, “And dost thou set the love of me before the visitation of the tomb of Mohammed (whom Allah assain and save!), who shall intercede for thee on the Day of Review before Allah and shall save thee from the Fire and through whose intercession thou shalt enter Paradise? And dost thou, for the love of the world, neglect to visit the tomb of thy Prophet6 Mohammed, whom God bless and preserve?” Replied Abdullah, “No, by Allah, I set the visitation of the Prophet’s tomb above all else, and I crave thy leave to pray before it this year.” The Merman rejoined, “I grant thee leave, on condition that when thou shalt stand by his sepulchre thou salute him for me with the Salam. Furthermore I have a trust to give thee; so come thou with me into the sea, that I may carry thee to my city and entertain thee in my house and give thee a deposit; which when thou takest thy station by the Prophet’s tomb, do thou lay thereon, saying, ‘O apostle of Allah, Abdullah the Merman saluteth thee, and sendeth thee this present, imploring thine intercession to save him from the Fire.’” Said the fisherman, “O my brother, thou wast created in the water and water is thy abiding-place and doth thee no hurt, but, if thou shouldst come forth to the land, would any harm betide thee?” The Merman replied, “Yes; my body would dry up and the breezes of the land would blow upon me and I should die.” Rejoined the fisherman, “And I, in like manner, was created on the land and the land is my abiding-place; but, an I went down into the sea, the water would enter my belly and choke me and I should die.” Retorted the other, “Have no fear for that, for I will bring thee an ointment, wherewith when thou hast anointed thy body, the water will do thee no hurt, though thou shouldst pass the lave of thy life going about in the great deep: and thou shalt lie down and rise up in the sea and naught shall harm thee.” Quoth the fisherman, “An the case by thus, well and good; but bring me the ointment, so that I may make trial of it;” and quoth the Merman, “So be it;” then, taking the fish-basket disappeared in the depths. He was absent awhile, and presently returned with an unguent as it were the fat of beef, yellow as gold and sweet of savour. Asked the fisherman, “What is this, O my brother?”; and answered the Merman, “’Tis the liver-fat of a kind of fish called the Dandan,7 which is the biggest of all fishes and the fiercest of our foes. His bulk is greater than that of any beast of the land, and were he to meet a camel or an elephant, he would swallow it at a single mouthful.” Abdullah enquired, “O my brother, what doth this baleful beast?”; and the Merman replied, “He eateth of the beasts of the sea. Hast thou not heard the saying, ‘Like the fishes of the sea: forcible eateth feeble?8’” “True; but have you many of these Dandans in the sea?” “Yes, there be many of them with us. None can tell their tale save Almighty Allah.” “Verily, I fear lest, if I go down with thee into the deep a creature of this kind fall in with me and devour me.” “Have no fear: when he seeth thee, he will know thee for a son of Adam and will fear thee and flee. He dreadeth none in the sea as he dreadeth a son of Adam; for that an he eateth a man he dieth forthright, because human fat is a deadly poison to this kind of creature; nor do we collect its liver-speck save by means of a man, when he falleth into the sea and is drowned; for that his semblance becometh changed and ofttimes his flesh is torn; so the Dandan eateth him, deeming him the same of the denizens of the deep, and dieth. Then we light upon our enemy dead and take the speck of his liver and grease ourselves so that we can over-wander the main in safety. Also, wherever there is a son of Adam, though there be in that place an hundred or two hundred or a thousand or more of these beasts, all die forthright an they but hear him — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Nukl,” e.g. the quatre mendicants as opposed to “Fákihah”=fresh fruit. The Persians, a people who delight in gross practical jokes, get the confectioner to coat with sugar the droppings of sheep and goats and hand them to the bulk of the party. This pleasant confection is called “Nukl-i-peshkil”— dung-dragées.
2 The older name of Madínat al-Nabi, the city of the Prophet; vulg. called Al–Medinah per excellentiam. See vol. iv. 114. In the Mac. and Bul. texts we have “Tayyibah”=the goodly, one of the many titles of that Holy City: see Pilgrimage ii. 119.
3 Not “visiting the tomb of,” etc. but visiting the Prophet himself, who is said to have declared that “Ziyárah” (visitation) of his tomb was in religion the equivalent of a personal call upon himself.
4 Arab. “Nafakah”; for its conditions see Pigrimage iii. 224. I have again and again insisted upon the Anglo–Indian Government enforcing the regulations of the Faith upon pauper Hindi pilgrims who go to the Moslem Holy Land as beggars and die of hunger in the streets. To an “Empire of Opinion” this is an unmitigated evil (Pilgrimage iii. 256); and now, after some thirty-four years, there are signs that the suggestions of common sense are to be adopted. England has heard of the extraordinary recklessness and inconsequence of the British–Indian “fellow-subject.”
5 The Ka’abah of Meccah.
6 When Moslems apply “Nabí!” to Mohammed it is in the peculiar sense of “prophet” ({Greek letters})=one who speaks before the people, not one who predicts, as such foresight was adjured by the Apostle. Dr. A. Neubauer (The Athenæum No. 3031) finds the root of “Nabí!” in the Assyrian Nabu and Heb. Noob (occurring in Exod. vii. 1. “Aaron thy brother shall be thy prophet.” i.e. orator, speaker before the people), and holds it to be a Canaanite term which supplanted “Roeh” (the Seer) e.g. 1 Samuel ix. 9. The learned Hebraist traces the cult of Nebo, a secondary deity in Assyria to Palestine and Phœnicia, Palmyra, Edessa (in the Nebok of Abgar) and Hierapolis in Syria or Mabug (Nabog?).
7 I cannot find “Dandán” even in Lib. Quintus de Aquaticis Animalibus of the learned Sam. Bochart’s “Hierozoïcon” (London, 1663) and must conjecture that as “Dandán” in Persian means a tooth (vol. ii. 83) the writer applied it to a sun-fish or some such well-fanged monster of the deep.
8 A favourite proverb with the Fellah, when he alludes to the Pasha and to himself.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah of the sea said to Abdullah of the Land, “And if a thousand or more of this kind hear an Adamite cry a single cry, forthright all die nor hath one of them power to remove from his place; so, whenever a son of Adam falleth into the sea, we take him and anoint him with this fat and go round about the depths with him, and whenever we see a Dandan or two or three or more, we bid him cry out and they all die forthright for his once crying.” Quoth the fisherman, “I put my trust in Allah;” and, doffing his clothes, buried them in a hole which he dug in the beach; after which he rubbed his body from head to heels which that ointment. Then he descended into the water and diving, opened his eyes and the brine did him no hurt. So he walked right and left, and if he would, he rose to the sea-face, and if he would, he sank to the base. And he beheld the water as it were a tent over his head; yet it wrought him no hurt. Then said the Merman to him, “What seest thou, O my brother?”; and said he, “O my brother, I see naught save weal1; and indeed thou spakest truth in that which thou saidst to me; for the water doth me no hurt.” Quoth the Merman, “Follow me.” So he followed him and they ceased not faring on from place to place, whilst Abdullah discovered before him and on his right and left mountains of water and solaced himself by gazing thereon and on the various sorts of fish, some great and some small, which disported themselves in the main. Some of them favoured buffaloes2 others oxen and others dogs and yet others human beings; but all to which they drew near fled, whenas they saw the fisherman, who said to the Merman, “O my brother, how is it that I see all the fish, to which we draw near, flee from us afar?” Said the other, “Because they fear thee, for all things that Allah hath made fear the son of Adam.3” The fisherman ceased not to divert himself with the marvels of the deep, till they came to a high mountain and fared on beside it. Suddenly, he heard a mighty loud cry and turning, saw some black thing, the bigness of a camel or bigger, coming down upon him from the liquid mountain and crying out. So he asked his friend, “What is this, O my brother?”; and the Merman answered, “This is the Dandan. He cometh in search of me, seeking to devour me; so cry out at him, O my brother, ere he reach us; else he will snatch me up and devour me.” Accordingly Abdullah cried out at the beast and behold, it fell down dead; which when he saw, he said, “Glorified be the perfection of God and His praise! I smote it not with the sword nor knife; how cometh it that, for all the vastness of the creature’s bulk, it could not bear my cry, but died?” Replied the Merman, “Marvel not, for, by Allah, O my brother, were there a thousand or two thousand of these creatures, yet could they not endure the cry of a son of Adam.” Then they walked on, till they made a city, whose inhabitants the fisherman saw to be all women, there being no male among them; so he said to his companion, “O my brother, what city is this and what are these women?” “This is the city of women; for its inhabitants are of the women of the sea.” “Are there any males among them?” “No!” “Then how do they conceive and bear young, without males?4” “The King of the sea banisheth them hither and they conceive not neither bear children. All the women of the sea, with whom he is wroth, he sendeth to this city, and they cannot leave it; for, should one of them come forth therefrom, any of the beasts of the sea that saw her would eat her. But in other cities of the main there are both males and females.” Thereupon asked the fisherman, “Are there then other cities than this in the sea?”; and the Merman answered, “There are many.” Quoth the fisherman, “And is there a Sultan over you in the sea?” “Yes,” quoth the Merman. Then said Abdullah “O my brother, I have indeed seen many marvels in the main!” But the Merman said, “And what hast thou seen of its marvels?5 Hast thou not heard the saying, ‘The marvels of the sea are more manifold than the marvels of the land?’” “True,” rejoined the fisherman and fell to gazing upon those women, whom he saw with faces like moons and hair like women’s hair, but their hands and feet were in their middle and they had tails like fishes’ tails. Now when the Merman had shown him the people of the city, he carried him forth therefrom and forewalked him to another city, which he found full of folk, both males and females, formed like the women aforesaid and having tails; but there was neither selling nor buying amongst them, as with the people of the land, nor were they clothed, but went all naked and with their same uncovered. Said Abdullah “O my brother, I see males and females alike with their shame exposed,6” and the other said, “This is because the folk of the sea have no clothes.” Asked the fisherman, “And how do they when they marry?” The Merman answered, “They do not marry; but every one who taketh a liking to a female doth his will of her.” Quoth Abdullah, “This is unlawful! Why doth he not ask her in marriage and dower her and make her a wedding festival and marry her, in accordance with that which is pleasing to Allah and His Apostle?”; and quoth the other, “We are not all of one religion: some of us are Moslems, believers in The Unity, others Nazarenes and what not else; and each marrieth in accordance with the ordinances of his creed; but those of us who marry are mostly Moslems.” The fisherman continued, “Ye are naked and have neither buying nor selling among you: of what then is your wives’ dowry? Do ye give them jewels and precious stones?” The Merman rejoined, “Gems with us are only stones without worth: but upon the Moslem who is minded to marry they impose a dowry of a certain number of fishes of various kinds that he must catch, a thousand or two thousand, more or less, according to the agreement between himself and the bride’s father. As soon as he bringeth the amount required, the families of the bride and bridegroom assemble and eat the marriage-banquet; after which they bring him in to his bride, and he catcheth fish and feedeth her; or, if he be unable, she catcheth fish and feedeth him.” Enquired the fisherman, “And how if a woman commit adultery?”; and the other replied, “If a woman be convicted of this case, they banish her to the City of Women; and if she be with child by her gallant, they leave her till she be delivered; then, if she give birth to a girl, they banish her with her, calling her adulteress, daughter of adulteress, and she abideth a maid till she die; but, if the woman give birth to a male child, they carry it to the Sultan of the Sea, who putteth it to death.” Abdullah marvelled at this and the Merman carried him to another city and thence to another and yet another, till he had diverted him with the sight of eighty cities, and he saw the people of each city unlike those of every other. Then said he to the Merman, “O my brother, are there yet other cities in the main?”; whereto said the other, “And what hast thou seen of the cities of the sea and its wondrous spectacles? By the virtue of the noble Prophet, the benign, the compassionate, were I to show thee every day a thousand cities for a thousand years, and in each city a thousand marvels, I should not have shown thee one carat of the four-and-twenty carats of the cities of the sea and its miracles! I have but shown thee our own province and country, nothing more.” The fisherman thus resumed, “O my brother, since this is the case, what I have seen sufficeth me, for I am a-weary of eating fish, and these fourscore days I have been in thy company, thou hast fed me, morning and night, upon nothing but raw fish, neither broiled nor boiled.” “And what is broiled or boiled?” “We broil fish with fire and boil it in water and dress it in various ways and make many dishes of it.” “And how should we come by fire in the sea? We know not broiled nor boiled nor aught else of the kind.” “We also fry it in olive-oil and oil of sesame.7” How should be come by olive-oil and oil of sesame in the sea? Verily we know nothing of that thou namest.” “True, but O my brother, thou hast shown me many cities; yet hast thou not shown me thine own city.” “As for mine own city, we passed it a long way, for it is near the land whence we came, and I left it and came with thee hither, thinking only to divert thee with the sight of the greater cities of the sea.” “That which I have seen of them sufficeth me; and now I would have thee show me thine own city.” “So be it,” answered Abdullah of the Sea; and, returning on his traces, carried him back thither and said to him, “This is my city.” Abdullah of the Land looked and saw a city small by comparison with those he had seen; then he entered with his comrade of the deep and they fared on till they came to a cave. Quoth the Merman, “This is my house and all the houses in the city are like this, caverns great and small in the mountains; as are also those of every other city of the sea. For whoso is minded to make him a house must repair to the King and say to him, ‘I wish to make me a house in such a place.’ Whereupon the King sends with him a band of the fish called ‘Peckers,’8 which have beaks that crumble the hardest rock, appointing for their wage a certain quantum of fish. They betake themselves to the mountain chosen by the intended owner and therein pierce the house, whilst the owner catcheth fish for them and feedeth them, till the cave is finished, when they wend their ways and the house-owner taketh up his abode therein. On such wise do all the people of the sea; they traffic not one with other nor serve each other save by means of fish; and their food is fish and they themselves are a kind of fish.9” Then he said to him, “Enter!” So Abdullah entered and the Merman cried out, saying, “Ho, daughter mine!” when behold, there came to him a damsel with a face like the rondure of the moon and hair long, hips heavy, eyes black-edged and waist slender; but she was naked and had a tail. When she saw Abdullah of the Land she said to her sire, “O my father, what is this No-tail10 thou hast brought with thee?” He replied, “O my daughter this is my friend of the land, from whom I used to bring thee the fruits of the ground. Come hither and salute him with the salam.” So she came forward and saluted the fisherman with loquent tongue and eloquent speech; and her father said to her, “Bring meat for our guest, by whose visit a blessing hath betided us:11” whereupon she brought him two great fishes, each the bigness of a lamb, and the Merman said to him, “Eat.” So he ate for stress of hunger, despite himself; because he was tired of eating fish and they had naught else save fish. Before long, in came the Merman’s wife, who was beautiful of form and favour and with her two children, each having in his hand a young fish, which he craunched as a man would craunch a cucumber. When she saw the fisherman with her husband, she said, “What is this No-tail?” And she and her sons and their sister came up to him and fell to examining the back parts of Abdullah of the Land, and saying, “Yea, by Allah, he is tailless!”; and they laughed at him. So he said to the Merman, “O my brother, hast thou brought me hither to make me a butt and a laughing-stock for thy children and thy consort?”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 An euphemistic answer, unbernfen as the Germans say.
2 It is a temptation to derive this word from bœuf à l’eau, but I fear that the theory will not hold water. The “buffaloes” of Alexandria laughted it to scorn.
3 Here the writer’s zoological knowledge is at fault. Animals, which never or very rarely see man, have no fear of him whatever. This is well-known to those who visit the Gull-fairs at Ascension Island, Santos and many other isolated rocks; the hen birds will peck at the intruder’s ankles but they do not rise from off their eggs. For details concerning the “Gull-fair” of the Summer Islands consult p. 4 “The History of the Bermudas,” edited by Sir J. H. Lefroy for the Hakluyt Society, 1882. I have seen birds on Fernando Po peak quietly await a second shot; and herds of antelopes, the most timed of animals, in the plains of Somali-land only stared but were not startled by the report of the gun. But Arabs are not the only moralists who write zoological nonsense: witness the notable verse,
“Birds in their little nests agree,”
when the feathered tribes are the most pugnacious of breathing beings.
4 Lane finds these details “silly and tiresome or otherwise objectionable,” and omits them.
5 Meaning, “Thou hast as yet seen little or nothing.” In most Eastern tongues a question often expresses an emphatic assertion. See vol. i. 37.
6 Easterns wear as a rule little clothing but it suffices for the essential purposes of decency and travellers will live amongst them for years without once seeing an accidental “exposure of the person.” In some cases, as with the Nubian thong-apron, this demand of modesty requires not a little practice of the muscles; and we all know the difference in a Scotch kilt worn by a Highlander and a cockney sportsman.
7 Arab. “Shíraj”=oil extracted from rape seed but especially from sesame. The Persians pronounce it “Síraj” (apparently unaware that it is their own word “Shírah”=juice in Arabic garb) and have coined a participle “Musayrij” e.g., Bú-i-musayrij, taint of sesame-oil applied especially to the Jews who very wisely prefer, in Persia and elsewhere, oil which is wholesome to butter which is not. The Moslems, however, declare that its immoderate use in cooking taints the exudations of the skin.
8 Arab. “Nakkárún” probably congeners of the redoubtable “Dandán.”
9 Bresl. Edit. xi. 78. The Mac. says “They are all fish” (Kullu-hum) and the Bul. “Their food (aklu-hum) is fish.”
10 Arab. “Az’ar,” usually=having thin hair. The general term for tailless is “abtar.” See Koran cviii. 3, when it means childless.
11 A common formula of politeness.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah of the Land said to Abdullah of the sea, “O my brother, hast thou brought me hither to make me a butt and a laughing-stock for thy children and thy consort?” Cried the Merman, “Pardon, O my brother! Those who have no tails are rare among us, and whenever one such is found, the Sultan taketh him, to make fun of him, and he abideth a marvel amongst us, and all who see him laugh at him. But, O my brother, excuse these young children and this woman, for they lack wits.” Then he cried out to his family, saying, “Silence!”; so they were afraid and held their peace; whilst he went on to soothe Abdullah’s mind. Presently, as they were talking, behold, in came some ten Merman, tall and strong and stout, and said to him, “O Abdullah, it hath reached the King that thou hast with thee a No-tail of the No-tails of the earth.” Answered the Merman, “Yes; and this is he; but he is not of us nor of the children of the sea. He is my friend of the land and hath come to me as a guest and I purpose to carry him back to the land.” Quoth they, “We cannot depart but with him; so, an thou have aught to say, arise and come with him before the King; and whatso thou wouldst say to us, say thou that same to the King.” Then quoth the Merman to the fisherman, “O my brother, my excuse is manifest, and we may not disobey the King: but go thou with me to him and I will do my best to deliver thee from him, Inshallah! Fear not, for he deemeth thee of the children of the sea; but, when he seeth thee, he will know thee to be of the children of the land, and he will surely entreat thee honourably and restore thee to the land.” And Abdullah of the Land replied, “’Tis thine to decide, I will trust in Allah and wend with thee.” So he took him and carried him to the King, who, when he saw him, laughed at him and said, “Welcome to the No-tail!” And all who were about the King began to laugh at him and say, “Yea, by Allah, he is tailless!” Then Abdullah of the Sea came forward and acquainted the King with the fisherman’s case, saying, “This man is of the children of the land and he is my comrade and cannot live amongst us, for that he loveth not the eating of fish, except it be fried or boiled; wherefore I desire that thou give me leave to restore him to the land.” Whereto the King replied, “Since the case is so, and he cannot live among us, I give thee leave to restore him to his place, after due entertainment,” presently adding, “Bring him the guest-meal.” So they brought him fish of various kinds and colours and he ate, in obedience to the royal behest; after which the King said to him, “Ask a boon of me.” Quoth he, “I ask of thee that thou give me jewels;” and the King said, “Carry him to the jewel-house and let him choose that whereof he hath need.” So his friend carried him to the jewel-house and he picked out whatso he would, after which the Merman brought him back to his own city and pulling out a purse, said to him, “Take this deposit and lay it on the tomb of the Prophet, whom Allah save and assain!” And he took it, knowing not what was therein. Then the Merman went forth with him, to bring him back to land, and by the way he heard singing and merrymaking and saw a table spread with fish and folk eating and singing and holding mighty high festival. So Abdullah of the Land said to his friend, “What aileth these people to rejoice thus? Is there a wedding among them?” Replied Abdullah of the Sea, “Nay; one of them is dead.” Asked the fisherman, “Then do ye, when one dieth amongst you, rejoice for him and sing and feast?”; and the Merman answered, “Yes: and ye of the land, what do ye?” Quoth Abdullah of the Land, “When one dieth amongst us, we weep and keen for him and the women beat their faces and rend the bosoms of their raiment, in token of mourning for the dead.” But Abdullah the Merman stared at him with wide eyes and said to him, “Give me the deposit!” So he gave it to him. Then he set him ashore and said to him, “I have broken off our companionship and our amity; wherefore from this day forward thou shalt no more see me, nor I see thee.” Cried the fisherman, “Why sayst thou this?”; and the other said, “Are ye not, O folk of the land, a deposit of Allah?” “Yes.” “Why then,” asked the Merman, “is it grievous to you that Allah should take back His deposit and wherefore weep ye over it? How can I entrust thee with a deposit for the Prophet (whom Allah save and assain!), seeing that, when a child is born to you, ye rejoice in it, albeit the Almighty setteth the soul therein as a deposit; and yet, when he taketh it again, it is grievous to you and ye weep and mourn? Since it is hard for thee to give up the deposit of Allah, how shall it be easy to thee to give up the deposit of the Prophet?1 Wherefore we need not your companionship.” Saying thus he left him and disappeared in the sea. Thereupon Abdullah of the Land donned his dress and taking the jewels, went up to the King, who met him lovingly and rejoiced at his return saying, “How dost thou, O my son-in-law, and what is the cause of thine absence from me this while?” So he told him his tale and acquainted him with that which he had seen of marvels in the sea, whereat the King wondered. Then he told him what Abdullah the Merman had said2; and the King replied, “Indeed ’twas thou wast at fault to tell him this.” Nevertheless, he continued for some time to go down to the shore and call upon Abdullah of the Sea, but he answered him not nor came to him; so, at last, he gave up all hope of him and abode, he and the King his father-in-law and the families of them both in the happiest of case and the practice of righteous ways, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies and they died all. Wherefore glory be to the Living, who dieth not, whose is the empire of the Seen and the Unseen, who over all things is Omnnipotent and is gracious to His servants and knowth their every intent! And amongst the tales they tell is one anent
1 Bresl. Edit. xi. 82; meaning, “You will probably keep it for yourself.” Abdullah of the Sea is perfectly logical; but grief is not. We weep over the deaths of friends mostly for our own sake: theoretically we should rejoice that they are at rest; but practically we are afflicted by the thought that we shall never again see their pleasant faces.
2 i.e. about rejoicing over the newborns and mourning over the dead.
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid was one night wakeful exceedingly; so he called Masrur and said to him as soon as he came, “Fetch me Ja’afar in haste.” Accordingly, he went out and returned with the Wazir, to whom said the Caliph, “O Ja’afar wakefulness hath mastered me this night and forbiddeth sleep from me, nor wot I what shall drive it away from me.” Replied Ja’afar, “O Commander of the Faithful, the wise say, ‘Looking on a mirror, entering the Hamman-bath and hearkening unto song banish care and chagrin.’” He rejoined, “O Ja’afar I have done all this, but it hath brought me naught of relief, and I swear by my pious forbears unless thou contrive that which shall abate from me this insomny, I will smite thy neck.” Quoth Ja’afar, “O Commander of the Faithful, wilt thou do that which I shall counsel thee?” whereupon quoth the Caliph, “And what is that thou counselleth?” He replied, “It is that thou take boat with us and drop down Tigris River with the tide to a place called Karn al-Sirat, so haply we may hear what we never heard or see what we never saw, for ’tis said, ‘The solace of care is in one of three things; that a man see what he never before saw or hear what he never yet heard or tread an earth he erst hath never trodden.’ It may be this shall be the means of remedying thy restlessness, O Commander of the Faithful, Inshallah! There, on either side of the river, are windows and balconies one facing other, and it may be we shall hear or see from one of these somewhat wherewith our hearts may be heartened.” Ja’afar’s counsel pleased the Caliph, so he rose from his place and taking with him the Wazir and his brother Al–Fazl and Isaac1 the boon-companion and Abu Nowas and Abu Dalaf2 and Masrur the Sworder — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph arose from his seat with Ja’afar and the rest of the party, all entered the wardrobe, where they donned merchant’s gear. Then they went down to the Tigris and embarking in a gilded boat, dropped down with the stream, till they came to the place they sought, when they heard the voice of a damsel singing to the lute and chanting these couplets,
“To him when the wine cup is near I declare,
While in coppice loud shrilleth and trilleth Hazár,
‘How long this repining from joys and delight?
Wake up for this life is a borrowed ware!’
Take the cup from the hand of the friend who is dear
With languishing eye-lids and languorous air.
I sowed on his cheek a fresh rose, which amid
His side-locks the fruit of granado-tree bare.
Thou wouldst deem that the place where he tare his fair cheek1
Were ashes, while cheeks hues incendiary wear.
Quoth the blamer, ‘Forget him! But where’s my excuse
When his side-face is growing the downiest hair?2’”
When the Caliph heard this, he said, “O Ja’afar, how goodly is that voice!”; and the Wazir replied, “O our lord, never smote my hearing aught sweeter or goodlier than this singing! But, good my lord, hearing from behind a wall is only half hearing; how would it be an we heard it from behind a curtain?” Quoth the Caliph, “Come, O Ja’afar, let us play the parasites with the master of this house; and haply we shall look upon the songstress, face to face;” and quoth Ja’afar, “I hear and I obey.” So they landed and sought admittance; when behold, there came out to them a young man, fair of favour, sweet of speech and fluent of tongue, who said to them, “Well come and welcome, O lords that honour me with your presence! Enter in all comfort and convenience!” So they went in (and he with them) to a saloon with four faces, whose ceiling was decorated with gold and its walls adorned with ultramarine.3 At its upper end was a dais, whereon stood a goodly row of seats4 and thereon sat an hundred damsels like moons. The house-master cried out to them and they came down from their seats. Then he turned to Ja’afar and said to him, “O my lord, I know not the honourable of you from the more honourable: Bismillah! deign he that is highest in rank among you favour me by taking the head of the room, and let his brethren sit each in his several stead.” So they sat down, each according to his degree, whilst Masrur abode standing before them in their service; and the host asked them, “O my guests, with your leave, shall I set somewhat of food before you?” and they answered, “Yes.” Hearing this he bade his handmaids bring food, whereupon four damsels with girded waists placed in front of them a table, whereon were rare meats of that which flieth and walketh earth and swimmeth seas, sand-grouse and quails and chickens and pigeons; and written on the raised edge of the tray were verses such as sorted with the entertainment. So they ate till they had enough and washed their hands, after which said the young man, “O my lords, if you have any want, let us know it, that we may have the honour of satisfying it.” They replied, “’Tis well: we came not to thy dwelling save for the sake of a voice we heard from behind the wall of thy house, and we would fain hear it again and know her to whom it belongeth. So, an thou deem right to vouchsafe us this favour, it will be of the generosity of thy nature, and after we will return whence we came.” Quoth the host, “Ye are welcome;” and, turning to a black slave-girl, said to her, “Fetch me thy mistress such an one.” So she went away and returning with a chair of chinaware, cushioned with brocade, set it down: then withdrew again and presently returned with a damsel, as she were the moon on the night of its full, who sat down on the chair. Then the black girl gave her a bag of satin wherefrom she brought out a lute, inlaid with gems and jacinths and furnished with pegs of gold. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Takhmísh,” alluding to the familiar practice of tearing face and hair in grief for a loss, a death, etc.
2 i.e. When he is in the very prime of life and able to administer fiers coups de canif.
“For ladies e’en of most uneasy virtue
Prefer a spouse whose age is short of thirty.”
Don Juan 1. 62.
3 Arab. “Lázuward”: see vol. iii. 33.
4 Arab. “Sidillah.” The Bresl. Edit. (v. 99), has, “a couch of ivory and ebony, whereon was that which befitted it of mattresses and cushions and on it five damsels.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel came forward, she took her seat upon the chair and brought out from its case a lute and behold, it was inlaid with gems and jacinths and furnished with pegs of gold. Then she tuned its strings, even as saith the poet of her and her lute in these lines,
“She sits it in lap like a mother fond
And she strikes the strings that can make it speak:
And ne’er smiteth her right an injurious touch
But her left repairs of her right the wreak.1”
Then she strained the lute to her bosom, bending over it as mother bendeth over babe, and swept the strings which complained as child to mother complaineth; after which she played upon it and began improvisng these couplets,
“An Time my lover restore me I’ll blame him fain,
Saying, ‘Pass, O my dear, the bowl and in passing drain
The wine which hath never mixed with the heart of man
But he passes to joy from annoy and to pleasure from pain.’
Then Zephyr arose to his task of sustaining the cup:
Didst e’er see full Moon that in hand the star hath ta’en?2
How oft I talked thro’ the night, when its rounded Lune
Shed on darkness of Tigris’ bank a beamy rain!
And when Luna sank in the West ’twas as though she’d wave
O’er the length of the watery waste a gilded glaive.”
When she had made an end of her verse, she wept with sore weeping and all who were in the place wept aloud till they were well-nigh dead; nor was there one of them but took leave of his wits and rent his raiment and beat his face, for the goodliness of her singing. Then said Al–Rashid, “This damsel’s song verily denoteth that she is a lover departed from her beloved.” Quoth her master, “She hath lost father and mother;” but quoth the Caliph, “This is not the weeping of one who hath lost mother and father, but the yearning of one who hath lost him she loveth.” And he was delighted with her singing and said to Isaac, “By Allah, never saw I her like!”; and Isaac said, “O my lord, indeed I marvel at her with utterest marvel and am beside myself for delight.” Now Al–Rashid with all this stinted not to look upon the house-master and note his charms and the daintiness of his fashion; but he saw on his face a pallor as he would die; so he turned to him and said, “Ho, youth!” and the other said, “Adsum! — at thy service, O my lord.” The Caliph asked, “Knowest thou who we are?”; and he answered, “No.” Quoth Ja’afar, “Wilt thou that I tell thee the names of each of us?”; and quoth the young man “Yes;” when the Wazir said, “This is the Commander of the Faithful, descendant of the uncle of the Prince of the Apostles,” and named to him the others of the company; after which quoth Al–Rashid, “I wish that thou acquaint me with the cause of the paleness of thy face, whether it be acquired or natural from thy birthtide.” Quoth he, “O Prince of True Believers, my case is wondrous and my affair marvellous; were it graven with gravers on the eye-corners it were a warner to whoso will be warned.” Said the Caliph, “Tell it to me: haply thy healing may be at my hand.” Said the young man, “O Commander of the Faithful, lend me thine ears and give me thy whole mind.” And he, “Come; tell it me, for thou makest me long to hear it.” So the young man began — “Know then, O Prince of True Believers, that I am a merchant of the merchants of the sea and come from Oman city, where my sire was a trader and a very wealthy trader, having thirty ships trafficking upon the main, whose yearly hire was thirty thousand dinars; and he was a generous man and had taught me writing and all whereof a wight hath need. When his last hour drew near, he called me to him and gave me the customary charge; then Almighty Allah took him and admitted him to His mercy and may He continue the Commander of the Faithful on life! Now my late father had partners trading with his coin and voyaging on the ocean. So one day, as I sat in my house with a company of merchants, a certain of my servants came in to me and said, ‘O my lord, there is at the door a man who craveth admittance to thee!’ I gave leave and he came in, bearing on his head a something covered. He set it down and uncovered it, and behold it was a box wherein were fruits out of season and herbs conserved in salt and fresh, such as are not found in our land. I thanked him and gifted him with an hundred dinars, and he went away grateful. Then I divided these things amongst my friends and guests who were present and asked them whence they came. Quoth they, ‘They come from Bassorah,’ and praised them and went on to portray the beauties of Bassorah and all agreed that there was naught in the world goodlier than Baghdad and its people. Then they fell to describing Baghdad and the fine manners of its folk and the excellence of its air and the beauty of its ordinance, till my soul longed for it and all my hopes clave to looking upon it. So I arose and selling my houses and lands, ships and slaves, negroes and handmaids, I got together my good, to wit, a thousand thousand dinars, besides gems and jewels, wherewith I freighted a vessel and setting out therein with the whole of the property, voyaged awhile. Then I hired a barque and embarking therein with all my monies sailed up the river some days till we arrived at Baghdad. I enquired where the merchants abode and what part was pleasantest for domicile and was answered, ‘The Karkh quarter.’ So I went thither and hiring a house in a thoroughfare called the Street of Saffron, transported all my goods to it and took up my lodging therein for some time. At last one day which was a Friday, I sallied forth to solace myself taking with me somewhat of coin. I went first to a cathedral-mosque, called the Mosque of Mansur, where the Friday service was held, and when we had made an end of congregational prayers, I fared forth with the folk to a place hight Karn al-Sirat, where I saw a tall and goodly mansion, with a balcony overlooking the river-bank and pierced with a lattice- window. So I betook myself thither with a company of folk and sighted there an old man sitting, handsomely clad and exhaling perfumes. His beard forked upon his breast in two waves like silver-wire, and about him were four damsels and five pages. So I said to one of the folk, ‘What is the name of this old man and what is his business?’; and the man said, ‘His name is Táhir ibn al-Aláa, and he is a keeper of girls: all who go into him eat and drink and look upon fair faces.’ Quoth I, ‘By Allah, this long while have I wandered about in search of something like this!’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant cried, “‘By Allah this long while I have gone about in search of something like this!’ So I went up to the Shaykh, O Commander of the Faithful, and saluting him said to him, ‘O my lord, I need somewhat of thee!’ He replied, ‘What is thy need?’ and I rejoined, ‘’Tis my desire to be thy guest to-night.’ He said, ‘With all my heart; but, O my son, with me are many damsels, some whose night is ten dinars, some forty and others more. Choose which thou wilt have.’ Quoth I, ‘I choose her whose night is ten dinars.’ And I weighed out to him three hundred dinars, the price of a month; whereupon he committed me to a page, who carried me to a Hammam within the house and served me with goodly service. When I came out of the Bath he brought me to a chamber and knocked at the door, whereupon out came a handmaid, to whom said he, ‘Take thy guest!’ She met me with welcome and cordiality, laughing and rejoicing, and brought me into a mighty fine room decorated with gold. I considered her and saw her like the moon on the night of its fulness having in attendance on her two damsels as they were constellations. She made me sit and seating herself by my side, signed to her slave-girls who set before us a tray covered with dishes of various kinds of meats, pullets and quails and sand-grouse and pigeons. So we ate our sufficiency, and never in my life ate I aught more delicious than this food. When we had eaten she bade remove the tray and set on the service of wine and flowers, sweetmeats and fruits; and I abode with her a month in such case. At the end of that time, I repaired to the Bath; then, going to the old man, I said to him, ‘O my lord, I want her whose night is twenty dinars.’ ‘Weigh down the gold,’ said he. So I fetched money and weighed out to him six hundred dinars for a month’s hire, whereupon he called a page and said to him, ‘Take thy lord here.’ Accordingly he carried me to the Hammam and thence to the door of a chamber, whereat he knocked and there came out a handmaid, to whom quoth he, ‘Take thy guest!’ She received me with the goodliest reception and I found in attendance on her four slave-girls, whom she commanded to bring food. So they fetched a tray spread with all manner meats, and I ate. When I had made an end of eating and the tray had been re-moved, she took the lute and sang thereto these couplets,
‘O waftings of musk from the Babel-land!
Bear a message from me which my longings have planned:
My troth is pledged to that place of yours,
And to friends there ‘biding — a noble band;
And wherein dwells she whom all lovers love
And would hend, but she cometh to no man’s hand.’
I abode with her a month, after which I returned to the Shaykh and said to him, ‘I want the forty dinar one.’ ‘Weigh out the money,’ said he. So I weighed out to him twelve hundred dinars, the mensual hire, and abode with her one month as it were one day, for what I saw of the comeliness of her semblance and the goodliness of her converse. After this I went to the Shaykh one evening and heard a great noise and loud voices; so I asked him, ‘What is to do?’; and he answered, saying, ‘This is the night of our remarkablest nights, when all souls embark on the river and divert themselves by gazing one upon other. Hast thou a mind to go up to the roof and solace thyself by looking at the folk?’ ‘Yes,’ answered I, and went up to the terrace roof,1 whence I could see a gathering of people with flambeaux and cressets, and great mirth and merriment. Then I went up to the end of the roof and beheld there, behind a goodly curtain, a little chamber in whose midst stood a couch of juniper-wood2 plated with shimmering gold and covered with a handsome carpet. On this sat a lovely young lady, confounding all beholders with her beauty and comeliness and symmetry and perfect grace, and by her side a youth, whose hand was on her neck; and he was kissing her and she kissing him. When I saw them, O Prince of True Believers, I could not contain myself nor knew where I was, so dazed and dazzled was I by her beauty: but, when I came down, I questioned the damsel with whom I was and described the young lady to her. ‘What wilt thou with her?’ asked she; and I, ‘She hath taken my wit.’ ‘O Abu al-Hasan, hast thou a mind to her?’ ‘Ay, by Allah! for she hath captivated my heart and soul.’ ‘This is the daughter of Tahir ibn al-Alaa; she is our mistress and we are all her handmaids; but knowest thou, O Abu al-Hasan, what be the price of her night and her day?’ ‘No!’ ‘Five hundred dinars, for she is a regret to the heart of Kings!’3 ‘By Allah, I will spend all I have on this damsel!’ So saying I lay, heartsore for desire, through the livelong night till the morning, when I repaired to the Hammam and presently donned a suit of the richest royal raiment and betaking myself to Ibn al-Alaa, said to him, ‘O my lord, I want her whose night is five hundred dinars.’ Quoth he, ‘Weigh down the money.’ So I weighed out to him fifteen thousand dinars for a month’s hire and he took them and said to the page, ‘Carry him to thy mistress such an one!’ Accordingly he took me and carried me to an apartment, than which my eyes never saw a goodlier on the earth’s face and there I found the young lady seated. When I saw her, O Commander of the Faithful, my reason was confounded with her beauty, for she was like the full moon on its fourteenth night,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al–Sath” whence the Span. Azotea. The lines that follow are from the Bresl. Edit. v. 110.
2 This “‘Ar’ar” is probably the Callitris quadrivalvis whose resin (“Sandarac”) is imported as varnish from African Mogador to England. Also called the Thuja, it is of cypress shape, slow growing and finely veined in the lower part of the base. Most travellers are agreed that it is the Citrus-tree of Roman Mauritania, concerning which Pliny (xiii. 29) gives curious details, a single table costing from a million sesterces (£900) to 1,400,000. For other details see p. 95, “Morocco and the Moors,” by my late friend Dr. Leared (London: Sampson Low, 1876).
3 i.e. Kings might sigh for her in vain.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young man continued to describe before the Prince of True Believers the young lady’s characteristics, saying, “She was like the full moon on her fourteenth night, a model of grace and symmetry and loveliness. Her speech shamed the tones of the lute, and it was as it were she whom the poet meant in these verses,
‘She cried while played in her side Desire,
And Night o’er hung her with blackest blee:—
‘O Night shall thy murk bring me ne’er a chum
To tumble and futter this coynte of me?’
And she smote that part with her palm and sighed
Sore sighs and a-weeping continued she,
‘As the toothstick beautifies teeth e’en so
Must prickle to coynte as a toothstick be.
O Moslems, is never a stand to your tools,
To assist a woman’s necessity?’
Thereat rose upstanding beneath its clothes
My yard, as crying, ‘At thee! at thee!’
And I loosed her trouser-string, startling her:
‘Who art thou?’ and I said, ‘A reply to thy plea!’
And began to stroke her with wrist-thick yard,
Hurting hinder cheeks by its potency:
And she cried as I rose after courses three
‘Suit thy gree the stroke!’ and I—‘suit thy gree!’
And how excellent is the saying of another!1,
‘A fair one, to idolaters if she her face should show, They’d leave their idols and her face for only Lord would know. If in the Eastward she appeared unto a monk, for sure, He’d cease from turning to the West and to the East bend low; And if into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit, Assuredly the salt sea’s floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.’
And that of another,
‘I looked at her one look and that dazed me
Such rarest gifts of mind and form to see,
When doubt inspired her that I loved her, and
Upon her cheeks the doubt showed showily.’
I saluted her and she said to me, ‘Well come and welcome, and fair welcome!’; and taking me by the hand, O Prince of True Believers, made me sit down by her side; whereupon, of the excess of my desire, I fell a-weeping for fear of severance and pouring forth the tears of the eye, recited these two couplets,
‘I love the nights of parting though I joy not in the same
Time haply may exchange them for the boons of Union-day:
And the days that bring Union I unlove for single thought,
Seeing everything in life lacking steadfastness of stay.’
Then she strave to solace me with soft sweet speech, but I was drowned in the deeps of passion, fearing even in union the pangs of disunion, for excess of longing and ecstasy of passion; and I bethought me of the lowe of absence and estrangement and repeated these two couplets,
‘I thought of estrangement in her embrace
And my eyes rained tears red as ‘Andam-wood.
So I wiped the drops on that long white neck;
For camphor2 is wont to stay flow of blood.’
Then she bade bring food and there came four damsels, high-bosomed girls and virginal, who set before us food and fruits and confections and flowers and wine, such as befit none save kings. So, O Commander of the Faithful, we ate, and sat over our wine, compassed about with blooms and herbs of sweet savour, in a chamber suitable only for kings. Presently, one of her maids brought her a silken bag, which she opened and taking thereout a lute, laid it in her lap and smote its strings, whereat it complained as child complaineth to mother, and she sang these two couplets,
‘Drink not pure wine except from hand of slender youth
Like wine for daintiness and like him eke the wine:
For wine no joyance brings to him who drains the cup
Save bring the cup-boy cheek as fair and fain and fine.’
So, I abode with her, O Commander of the Faithful, month after month in similar guise, till all my money was spent; wherefore I began to bethink me of separation as I sat with her one day and my tears railed down upon my cheeks like rills, and I became not knowing night from light. Quoth she, ‘Why dost thou weep?’; and quoth I, ‘O light of mine eyes, I weep because of our parting.’ She asked, ‘And what shall part me and thee, O my lord?’; and I answered, ‘By Allah, O my lady, from the day I came to thee, thy father hath taken of me, for every night, five hundred dinars, and now I have nothing left. Right soothfast is the saw, ‘Penury maketh strangerhood at home and money maketh a home in strangerhood’; and indeed the poet speaks truth when he saith,
‘Lack of good is exile to man at home;
And money shall house him where’er he roam.’
She replied, ‘Know that it is my father’s custom, whenever a merchant abideth with him and hath spent all his capital, to entertain him three days; then doth he put him out and he may return to us nevermore. But keep thou thy secret and conceal thy case and I will so contrive that thou shalt abide with me till such time as Allah will;3 for, indeed, there is in my heart a great love for thee. Thou must know that all my father’s money is under my hand and he wotteth not its full tale; so, every morning, I will give thee a purse of five hundred dinars which do thou offer to my sire, saying, ‘Henceforth, I will pay thee only day by day.’ He will hand the sum to me, and I will give it to thee again, and we will abide thus till such time as may please Allah.’ Thereupon I thanked her and kissed her hand; and on this wise, O Prince of True Believers, I abode with her a whole year, till it chanced on a certain day that she beat one of her handmaids grievously and the slave-girl said, ‘By Allah, I will assuredly torture thy heart, even as thou hast tortured me!’ So she went to the girl’s father and exposed to him all that had passed, first and last, which when Tahir ibn Alaa heard he arose forthright and coming in to me, as I sat with his daughter, said, ‘Ho, such an one!’; and I said, ‘At thy service.’ Quoth he, ‘’Tis our wont, when a merchant grow poor with us, to give him hospitality three days; but thou hast had a year with us, eating and drinking and doing what thou wouldst.’ Then he turned to his pages and cried to them, ‘Pull off his clothes.’ They did as he bade them and gave me ten dirhams and an old suit worth five silvers; after which he said to me, ‘Go forth; I will not beat thee nor abuse thee; but wend thy ways and if thou tarry in this town, thy blood be upon thine own head.’ So I went forth, O Commander of the Faithful, in my own despite, knowing not whither to hie, for had fallen on my heart all the trouble in the world and I was occupied with sad thought and doubt. Then I bethought me of the wealth which I had brought from Oman and said in myself, ‘I came hither with a thousand thousand dinars, part price of thirty ships, and have made away with it all in the house of yonder ill-omened man, and now I go forth from him, bare and broken-hearted! But there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!’ Then I abode three days in Baghdad, without tasting meat or drink, and on the fourth day seeing a ship bound for Bassorah, I took passage in her of the owner, and when we reached our port, I landed and went into the bazar, being sore anhungered. Presently, a man saw me, a grocer, whom I had known aforetime, and coming up to me, embraced me, for he had been my friend and my father’s friend before me. Then he questioned me of my case, seeing me clad in those tattered clothes; so I told him all that had befallen me, and he said, ‘By Allah, this is not the act of a sensible man! But after this that hath befallen thee what dost thou purpose to do?’ Quoth I, ‘I know not what I shall do,’ and quoth he, ‘Wilt thou abide with me and write my outgo and income and thou shalt have two dirhams a day, over and above thy food and drink?’ I agreed to this and abode with him, O Prince of True Believers, selling and buying, till I had gotten an hundred dinars; when I hired me an upper chamber by the river-side, so haply a ship should come up with merchandise, that I might buy goods with the dinars and go back with them to Baghdad. Now it fortuned that one day, there came ships with merchandise, and all the merchants resorted to them to buy, and I went with them on board, when behold, there came two men out of the hold and setting themselves chairs on the deck, sat down thereon. The merchants addressed themselves to the twain with intent to buy, and the man said to one of the crew, ‘Bring the carpet.’ Accordingly he brought the carpet and spread it, and another came with a pair of saddle-bags, whence he took a budget and emptied it on the carpet; and our sights were dazzled with that which issued therefrom of pearls and corals and jacinths and carnelians and other jewels of all sorts and colours.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young merchant, after recounting to the Caliph the matter of the bag and its containing jewels of all sorts, continued, “Presently, O Commander of the Faithful, said one of the men on the chairs, ‘O company of merchants, we will sell but this to-day, by way of spending-money, for that we are weary.’ So the merchants fell to bidding one against other for the jewels and bid till the price reached four hundred dinars. Then said to me the owner of the bag (for he was an old acquaintance of mine, and when he saw me, he came down to me and saluted me), ‘Why dost thou not speak and bid like the rest of the merchants?’ I said, ‘O my lord, by Allah, the shifts of fortune have run against me and I have lost my wealth and have only an hundred dinars left in the world.’ Quoth he, ‘O Ománi, after this vast wealth, can only an hundred dinars remain to thee?’ And I was abashed before him and my eyes filled with tears; whereupon he looked at me and indeed my case was grievous to him. So he said to the merchants, ‘Bear witness against me that I have sold all that is in this bag of various gems and precious stones to this man for an hundred gold pieces, albeit I know them to be worth so many thousand dinars, and this is a present from me to him.’ Then he gave me the saddle-bag and the carpet, with all the jewels that were thereon, for which I thanked him, and each and every of the merchants present praised him. Presently I carried all this to the jewel-market and sat there to sell and buy. Now among the precious stones was a round amulet of the handi-work of the masters,1 weighing half a pound: it was red of the brightest, a carnelian on both whose sides were graven characts and characters, like the tracks of ants; but I knew not its worth. I sold and bought a whole year, at the end of which I took the amulet2 and said, ‘This hath been with me some while, and I know not what it is nor what may be its value.’ So I gave it to the broker who took it and went round with it and returned, saying, ‘None of the merchants will give me more than ten dirhams for it.’ Quoth I, ‘I will not sell it at that price;’ and he threw it in my face and went away. Another day I again offered it for sale and its price reached fifteen dirhams; whereupon I took it from the broker in anger and threw it back into the tray. But a few days after, as I sat in my shop, there came up to me a man, who bore the traces of travel, and saluting me, said, ‘By thy leave, I will turn over what thou hast of wares.’ Said I, ‘’Tis well,’ and indeed, O Commander of the Faithful, I was still wroth by reason of the lack of demand for the talisman. So the man fell to turning over my wares, but took nought thereof save the amulet, which when he saw, he kissed his hand and cried, ‘Praised be Allah!’ Then said he to me, ‘O my lord, wilt thou sell this?’; and I replied, ‘Yes,’ being still angry. Quoth he, ‘What is its price?’ And I asked, ‘How much wilt thou give?’ He answered ‘Twenty dinars’: so I thought he was making mock of me and exclaimed, ‘Wend thy ways.’ But he resumed, ‘I will give thee fifty dinars for it.’ I made him no answer, and he continued, ‘A thousand dinars.’ But I was silent, declining to reply, whilst he laughed at my silence and said, ‘Why dost thou not return me an answer?’ ‘Hie thee home,’ repeated I and was like to quarrel with him. But he bid thousand after thousand, and I still made him no reply, till he said, ‘Wilt thou sell it for twenty thousand dinars?’ I still thought he was mocking me; but the people gathered about me and all of them said, ‘Sell to him, and if he buy not, we will all up and at him and drub him and thrust him forth the city.’ So quoth I to him, ‘Wilt thou buy or dost thou jest?’; and quoth he, ‘Wilt thou sell or dost thou joke?’ I said, ‘I will sell if thou wilt buy;’ then he said, ‘I will buy it for thirty thousand dinars; take them and make the bargain;’ so I cried to the bystanders, ‘Bear witness against him,’ adding to him, ‘But on condition that thou acquaint me with the virtues and profit of this amulet for which thou payest all this money.’ He answered, ‘Close the bargain, and I will tell thee this;’ I rejoined, ‘I sell it to thee;’ and he retorted, ‘Allah be witness of that which thou sayst and testimony!’ Then he brought out the gold and giving it to me took the amulet, and set it in his bosom; after which he turned to me and asked, ‘Art thou content?’ Answered I, ‘Yes,’ and he said to the people, ‘Bear witness against him that he hath closed the bargain and touched the price, thirty thousand dinars.’ Then he turned to me and said, ‘Harkye, my poor fellow, hadst thou held back from selling, by Allah I would have bidden thee up to an hundred thousand dinars, nay, even to a thousand thousand!’ When I heard these words, O Commander of the Faithful, the blood fled my face, and from that day there overcame it this pallor thou seest. Then said I to him, ‘Tell me the reason of this and what is the use of this amulet.’ And he answered, saying, ‘Know that the King of Hind hath a daughter, never was seen a thing fairer than she, and she is possessed with a falling sickness.3 So the King summoned the Scribes and men of science and Divines, but none of them could relieve her of this. Now I was present in the assembly; so I said to him, ‘O King, I know a man called Sa’adu’lláh the Babylonian, than whom there is not on the face of the earth one more masterly in these matters, and if thou see fit to send me to him, do so.’ Said he, ‘Go to him;’ and quoth I, ‘Bring me a piece of carnelian.’ Accordingly he gave me a great piece of carnelian and an hundred thousand dinars and a present, which I took, and with which I betook myself to the land of Babel. Then I sought out the Shaykh and when he was shown to me I delivered to him the money and the present, which he accepted and sending for a lapidary, bade him fashion the carnelian into this amulet. Then he abode seven months in observation of the stars, till he chose out an auspicious time for engraving it, when he graved upon it these talismanic characters which thou seest, and I took it and returned with it to the King.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. of gramarye.
2 Arab. “Ta’wíz”=the Arab Tilasm, our Talisman, a charm, an amulet; and in India mostly a magic square. The subject is complicated and occupies in Herklots some sixty pages, 222–284.
3 The Bul. and Mac. Edits. give the Princess’s malady, in error, as Dáa al-Sudá’ (megrims), instead of Dáa al-Sar’ (epilepsy) as in the Bresl. Edit. The latter would mean that she is possessed by a demon, again the old Scriptural fancy (see vol. v. 28). The subject is highly fitted for romance but not for a “serious” book which ought to know better.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young man said to the Commander of the Faithful, “‘So after the Shaykh had spoken, I took this talisman and returned with it to the King. Now the Princess was bound with four chains, and every night a slave-girl lay with her and was found in the morning with her throat cut. The King took the amulet and laid it upon his daughter who was straightway made whole. At this he rejoiced with exceeding joy and invested me with a vest of honour and gave alms of much money; and he caused set the amulet in the Princess’s necklace. It chanced, one day, that she embarked with her women in a ship and went for a sail on the sea. Presently, one of her maids put out her hand to her, to sport with her, and the necklace brake asunder and fell into the waves. From that hour the possessor1 of the Princess returned to her, wherefore great grief betided the King and he gave me much money, saying, ‘Go thou to Shaykh Sa’adu’llah and let him make her another amulet, in lieu of that which is lost.’ I journeyed to Babel, but found the old man dead; whereupon I returned and told the King, who sent me and ten others to go round about in all countries, so haply we might find a remedy for her: and now Allah hath caused me happen on it with thee.’ Saying these words, he took from me the amulet, O Commander of the Faithful, and went his ways. Such, then, is the cause of the wanness of my complexion. As for me, I repaired to Baghdad, carrying all my wealth with me, and took up my abode in the lodgings where I lived whilome. On the morrow, as soon as it was light, I donned my dress and betook myself to the house of Tahir ibn al-Alaa, that haply I might see her whom I loved, for the love of her had never ceased to increase upon my heart. But when I came to his home, I saw the balcony broken down and the lattice builded up; so I stood awhile, pondering my case and the shifts of Time, till there came up a serving-man, and I questioned him, saying, ‘What hath God done with Tahir ibn al-Alaa?’ He answered, ‘O my brother, he hath repented to Almighty Allah.2’ Quoth I, ‘What was the cause of his repentance?’; and quoth he, ‘O my brother, in such a year there came to him a merchant, by name Abu al-Hasan the Omani, who abode with his daughter awhile, till his wealth was all spent, when the old man turned him out, broken-hearted. Now the girl loved him with exceeding love, and when she was parted from him, she sickened of a sore sickness and came nigh upon death. As soon as her father knew how it was with her, he sent after and sought for Abu al-Hasan through the lands, pledging himself to bestow upon whoso should produce him an hundred thousand dinars; but none could find him nor come on any trace of him; and she is now hard upon death.’ Quoth I, ‘And how is it with her sire?’ and quoth the servant, ‘He hath sold all his girls, for grief of that which hath befallen him, and hath repented to Almighty Allah.’ Then asked I, ‘What wouldst thou say to him who should direct thee to Abu al-Hasan the Omani?’; and he answered, ‘Allah upon thee, O my brother, that thou do this and quicken my poverty and the poverty of my parents!3’ I rejoined, ‘Go to her father and say to him, Thou owest me the reward for good news, for that Abu al-Hasan the Omani standeth at the door.’ With this he set off trotting, as he were a mule loosed from the mill, and presently came back, accompanied by Shaykh Tahir himself, who no sooner saw me than he returned to his house and gave the man an hundred thousand dinars which he took and went away blessing me. Then the old man came up and embraced me and wept, saying, ‘O my lord, where hast thou been absent all this while? Indeed, my daughter hath been killed by reason of her separation from thee; but come with me into the house.’ So we entered and he prostrated himself in gratitude to the Almighty, saying, ‘Praised be Allah who hath reunited us with thee!’ Then he went in to his daughter and said to her, ‘The Lord hath healed thee of this sickness;’ and said she, ‘O my papa, I shall never be whole of my sickness, save I look upon the face of Abu al-Hasan.’ Quoth he, ‘An thou wilt eat a morsel and go to the Hammam, I will bring thee in company with him.’ Asked she, ‘Is it true that thou sayst?’; and he answered, ‘By the Great God, ’tis true!’ She rejoined, ‘By Allah, if I look upon his face, I shall have no need of eating!’ Then said he to his page, ‘Bring in thy lord.’ Thereupon I entered, and when she saw me, O Prince of True Believers, she fell down in a swoon, and presently coming to herself, recited this couplet,
‘Yea, Allah hath joined the parted twain,
When no thought they thought e’er to meet again.’
Then she sat upright and said, ‘By Allah, O my lord, I had not deemed to see thy face ever more, save it were in a dream!’ So she embraced me and wept, and said, ‘O Abu al-Hasan, now will I eat and drink.’ The old man her sire rejoiced to hear these words and they brought her meat and drink and we ate and drank, O Commander of the Faithful. After this, I abode with them awhile, till she was restored to her former beauty, when her father sent for the Kazi and the witnesses and bade write out the marriage-contract between her and me and made a mighty great bride-feast; and she is my wife to this day and this is my son by her.” So saying he went away and returned with a boy of rare beauty and symmetry of form and favour to whom said he, “Kiss the ground before the Commander of the Faithful.” He kissed ground before the Caliph, who marvelled at his beauty and glorified his Creator; after which Al–Rashid departed, he and his company, saying, “O Ja’afar, verily, this is none other than a marvellous thing, never saw I nor heard I aught more wondrous.” When he was seated in the palace of the Caliphate, he cried, “O Masrur!” who replied, “Here am I, O my lord!” Then said he, “Bring the year’s tribute of Bassorah and Baghdad and Khorasan, and set it in this recess.4” Accordingly he laid the three tributes together and they were a vast sum of money, whose tale none might tell save Allah. Then the Caliph bade draw a curtain before the recess and said to Ja’afar, “Fetch me Abu al-Hasan.” Replied Ja’afar, “I hear and obey,” and going forth, returned presently with the Omani, who kissed ground before the Caliph, fearing lest he had sent for him because of some fault that he had committed when he was with him in his house. Then said Al–Rashid, “Harkye, O Omani!” and he replied, “Adsum, O Prince of True Believers! May Allah ever bestow his favours upon thee!” Quoth the Caliph, “Draw back yonder curtain.” Thereupon Abu al-Hasan drew back the curtain from the recess and was confounded and perplexed at the mass of money he saw there. Said Al–Rashid, “O Abu al-Hasan, whether is the more, this money or that thou didst lose by the amulet?5”; and he answered, “This is many times the greater, O Commander of the Faithful!” Quoth the Caliph, “Bear witness, all ye who are present, that I give this money to this young man.” So Abu al-Hasan kissed ground and was abashed and wept before the Caliph for excess of joy. Now when he wept, the tears ran down from his eyelids upon his cheeks and the blood returned to its place and his face became like the moon on the night of its fulness. Whereupon quoth the Caliph, “There is no god but the God! Glory be to Him who decreeth change upon change and is Himself the Everlasting who changeth not!” Saying these words, he bade fetch a mirror and showed Abu al-Hasan his face therein, which when he saw, he prostrated himself, in gratitude to the Most High Lord. Then the Caliph bade transport the money to Abu al-Hasan’s house and charged the young man not to absent himself from him, so he might enjoy his company as a cup-companion. Accordingly he paid him frequent visits, till Al–Rashid departed to the mercy of Almighty Allah; and glory be to Him who dieth not the Lord of the Seen and the Unseen! And among tales they tell is one touching
1 Arab. “Al-’Áriz”=the demon who possessed her.
2 i.e. He hath renounced his infamous traffic.
3 Alluding to the favourite Eastern saying, “The poor man hath no life.”
4 In this and the following lines some change is necessary for the Bresl. and Mac. texts are very defective. The Arabic word here translated “recess” is “Aywán,” prop. a hall, an open saloon.
5 i.e. by selling it for thirty thousand gold pieces, when he might have got a million for it.
Al–Khasíb,2 Wazir of Egypt, had a son named Ibrahim, than whom there was none goodlier, and of his fear for him, he suffered him not to go forth, save to the Friday prayers. One day, as the youth was returning from the mosque, he came upon an old man, with whom were many books; so he lighted down from his horse and seating himself beside him, began to turn over the tomes and examine them. In one of them he espied the semblance of a woman which all but spoke, never was seen on the earth’s face one more beautiful; and as this captivated his reason and confounded his wit, he said to the old man, “O Shaykh, sell me this picture.” The bookseller kissed ground between his hands and said, “O my lord, ’tis thine without price.3” Ibrahim gave him an hundred dinars and taking the book in which was the picture, fell to gazing upon it and weeping night and day, abstaining from meat and drink and sleep. Then said he in his mind, “An I ask the book seller of the painter of this picture, haply he will tell me; and if the original be living, I will seek access to her; but, if it be only a picture, I will leave doting upon it and plague myself no more for a thing which hath no real existence.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The tale is not in the Bresl. Edit.
2 Al–Khasíb (= the fruitful) was the son of ‘Abd al-Hamíd and intendant of the tribute of Egypt under Harun al-Rashid, but neither Lord nor Sultan. Lane (iii. 669) quotes three couplets in his honour by Abu Nowás from p. 119 of “Elmacini (Al–Makín) Historia Saracenica.”
If our camel visit not the land of Al–Khasib, what man after Al–Khasib shall they visit? For generosity is not his neighbour; nor hath it sojourned near him; but generosity goeth wherever he goeth: He is a man who purchaseth praise with his wealth, and who knoweth that the periods of Fortune revolve.
3 The old story “Alà júdi-k”= upon thy generosity, which means at least ten times the price.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the youth Ibrahim said in his mind, “An I ask the bookseller of the painter of this picture, haply he will tell me; and, if it be only a picture, I will leave doting upon it and plague myself no more for a thing which hath no real existence.” So on the next Friday he betook himself to the bookseller, who sprang up to receive him, and said to him, “Oh uncle, tell me who painted this picture.” He replied, “O my lord, a man of the people of Baghdad painted it, by name Abu al-Kásim al-Sandaláni who dwelleth in a quarter called Al–Karkh; but I know not of whom it is the portraiture.” So Ibrahim left him without acquainting any of his household with his case, and returned to the palace, after praying the Friday prayers. Then he took a bag and filling it with gold and gems to the value of thirty thousand dinars, waited till the morning, when he went out, without telling any, and presently overtook a caravan. Here he saw a Badawi and asked him, “O uncle, what distance is between me and Baghdad?”; and the other answered, O my son, where art thou, and where is Baghdad?1 Verily, between thee and it is two months’ journey.” Quoth Ibrahim, O nuncle, an thou wilt guide me to Baghdad, I will give thee an hundred dinars and this mare under me that is worth other thousand gold pieces;” and quoth the Badawi, “Allah be witness of what we say! Thou shalt not lodge this night but with me.” So Ibrahim agreed to this and passed the night with him. At break of dawn, the Badawi took him and fared on with him in haste by a near road, in his greed for the mare and the promised good; nor did they leave wayfaring till they came to the walls of Baghdad, when said the wildling, “Praised be Allah for Safety! O my lord, this is Baghdad.” Whereat Ibrahim rejoiced with exceeding joy and alighting from the mare, gave her to the Desert man, together with the hundred dinars. Then he took the bag and entering the city walked on, enquiring for the quarter al-Karkh and the station of the merchants, till Destiny drave him to a by-way, wherein were ten houses, five fronting five, and at the farther end was a two-leaved door with a silver ring. By the gate stood two benches of marble, spread with the finest carpets, and on one of them sat a man of handsome aspect and reverend, clad in sumptuous clothing and attended by five Mamelukes like moons. When the youth Ibrahim saw the street, he knew it by the description the bookseller had given him; so he salaamed to the man, who returned his salutation and bidding him welcome, made him sit down and asked him of his case. Quoth Ibrahim, “I am a stranger man and desire of thy favour that thou look me out a house in this street where I may take up my abode.” With this the other cried out, saying, “Ho, Ghazálah!2”; and there came forth to him a slave-girl, who said, “At thy service, O my lord!” Said her master, “Take some servants and fare ye all and every to such a house and clean it and furnish it with whatso is needful for this handsome youth.” So she went forth and did his bidding; whilst the old man took the youth and showed him the house; and he said, “O my lord, how much may be the rent of this house?” The other answered, “O bright of face, I will take no rent of thee whilst thou abidest therein.” Ibrahim thanked him for this and the old man called another slave-girl, whereupon there came forth to him a damsel like the sun, to whom said he, “Bring chess.” So she brought it and one of the servants set the cloth;3 where upon said the Shaykh to Ibrahim, “Wilt thou play with me?”; and he answered, “Yes.” So they played several games and Ibrahim beat him, when his adversary exclaimed, “Well done, O youth! Thou art indeed perfect in qualities. By Allah, there is not one in Baghdad can beat me, and yet thou hast beaten me!” Now when they had made ready the house and furnished it with all that was needful, the old man delivered the keys to Ibrahim and said to him, “O my lord, wilt thou not enter my place and eat of my bread?” He assented and walking in with him, found it a handsome house and a goodly, decorated with gold and full of all manner pictures and furniture galore and other things, such as tongue faileth to set out. The old man welcomed him and called for food, whereupon they brought a table of the make of Sana’a of al-Yaman and spread it with all manner rare viands, than which there was naught costlier nor more delicious. So Ibrahim ate his sufficiency, after which he washed his hands and proceeded to inspect the house and furniture. Presently, he turned to look for the leather bag, but found it not and said in himself, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! I have eaten a morsel worth a dirham or two and have lost a bag wherein is thirty thousand dinars’ worth: but I seek aid of Allah!” And he was silent and could not speak — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1i.e. The distance is enormous.
2 A gazelle but here the slave-girl’s name.
3 See vol. ii. 104. Herklots (Pl. vii. fig. 2) illustrates the cloth used in playing the Indian game, Pachísí. The “board” is rather European than Oriental, but it has of late Years spread far and wide, especially the backgammon board.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the youth Ibrahim saw that his bag was lost, he was silent and could not speak for the greatness of his trouble. Presently his host brought the chess and said to him, “Wilt thou play with me?”; and he said, “Yes.” So they played and the old man beat him. Ibrahim cried, “Well done!” and left playing and rose: upon which his host asked him, “What aileth thee, O youth?” whereto he answered, “I want the bag.” Thereupon the Shaykh rose and brought it out to him, saying, “Here it is, O my lord. Wilt thou now return to playing with me?” “Yes,” replied Ibrahim. Accordingly they played and the young man beat him. Quoth the Shaykh, “When thy thought was occupied with the bag, I beat thee: but, now I have brought it back to thee, thou beatest me. But, tell me, O my son, what countryman art thou.” Quoth Ibrahim, “I am from Egypt,” and quoth the oldster, “And what is the cause of thy coming to Baghdad?”; whereupon Ibrahim brought out the portrait and said to him, “Know, O uncle, that I am the son of Al–Kasib, Wazir of Egypt, and I saw with a bookseller this picture, which bewildered my wit. I asked him who painted it and he said, ‘He who wrought it is a man, Abu al-Kasim al-Sandalani hight, who dwelleth in a street called the Street of Saffron in the Karkh quarter of Baghdad.’ So I took with me somewhat of money and came hither alone, none knowing of my case; and I desire of the fullness of thy favour that thou direct me to Abu al-Kasim, so I may ask him of the cause of his painting this picture and whose portrait it is. And whatso ever he desireth of me, I will give him that same.” Said his host, “By Allah, O my son, I am Abu al-Kasim al Sandalani, and this is a prodigious thing how Fate hath thus driven thee to me!” Now when Ibrahim heard these words, he rose to him and embraced him and kissed his head and hands, saying, “Allah upon thee, tell me whose portrait it is!” The other replied, “I hear and I obey,” and rising, opened a closet and brought out a number of books, wherein he had painted the same picture. Then said he, “Know, O my son, that the original of this portrait is my cousin, the daughter of my father’s brother, whose name is Abú al-Lays.1 She dwelleth in Bassorah of which city her father is governor, and her name is Jamílah — the beautiful. There is not on the face of the earth a fairer than she; but she is averse from men and cannot hear the word ‘man’ pronounced in her presence. Now I once repaired to my uncle, to the intent that he should marry me to her, and was lavish of wealth to him; but he would not consent thereto: and when his daughter knew of this she was indignant and sent to me to say, amongst other things, ‘An thou have wit, tarry not in this town; else wilt thou perish and thy sin shall be on thine own neck.2’ For she is a virago of viragoes. Accordingly I left Bassorah, brokenhearted, and limned this likeness of her in books and scattered them abroad in various lands, so haply they might fall into the hands of a comely youth like thyself and he contrive access to her and peradventure she might fall in love with him, purposing to take a promise of him that, when he should have possession of her, he would show her to me, though I look but for a moment from afar off.” When Ibrahim son of al-Kasib heard these words, he bowed his head awhile in thought and al-Sandalani said to him, “O my son, I have notseen in Baghdad a fairer than thou, and meseems that, when she seeth thee, she will love thee. Art thou willing, therefore, in case thou be united with her and get possession of her, to show her to me, if I look but for a moment from afar?” Ibrahim replied, Yes; and the painter rejoined, “This being so, tarry with me till thou set out.” But the youth retorted, “I cannot tarry longer; for my heart with love of her is all afire.” “Have patience three days,” said the Shaykh, “till I fit thee out a ship, wherein thou mayst fare to Bassorah.” Accordingly he waited whilst the old man equipped him a craft and stored therein all that he needed of meat and drink and so forth. When the three days were past, he said to Ibrahim, “Make thee ready for the voyage; for I have prepared thee a packet-boat furnished with all thou requirest. The craft is my property and the seamen are of my servants. In the vessel is what will suffice thee till thy return, and I have charged the crew to serve thee till thou come back in safety.” Thereupon Ibrahim farewelled his host and embarking sailed down the river till he came to Bassorah, where he pulled out an hundred dinars for the sailors, but they said, “We have gotten our hire of our lord.” However he replied, “Take this by way of largesse; and I will not acquaint him therewith.” So they took it and blessed him. Then the youth landed and entering the town asked, “Where do the merchants lodge?” and was answered, “In a Khan called the Khan of Hamadán.”3 So he walked to the market wherein stood the Khan, and all eyes were fixed upon him and men’s sight was attracted to him by reason of his exceeding beauty and loveliness. He entered the caravanserai, with one of the sailors in his company; and, asking for the porter, was directed to an aged man of reverend aspect. He saluted him and the doorkeeper returned his greeting; after which Ibrahim said to him, ‘ O uncle, hast thou a nice chamber?” He replied, ‘Yes,” and taking him and the sailor, opened to them a handsome room decorated with gold, and said, “O youth, this chamber befitteth thee.” Ibrahim pulled out two dinars and gave them to him, saying, “Take these to key-money.”4 And the porter took them and blessed him. Then the youth Ibrahim sent the sailor back to the ship and entered the room, where the doorkeeper abode with him and served him, saying, “O my lord, thy coming hath brought us joy!” Ibrahim gave him a dinar, and said, “Buy us herewith bread and meat and sweetmeats and wine.” Accordingly the doorkeeper went to the market; and, buying ten dirhams’ worth of victual, brought it back to Ibrahim and gave him the other ten dirhams. But he cried to him, “Spend them on thyself;” whereat the porter rejoiced with passing joy. Then he ate a scone with a little kitchen5 and gave the rest to the concierge, adding, “Carry this to the people of thy household.” The porter carried it to his family and said to them, “Methinketh there is not on the face of the earth a more generous than the young man who has come to lodge with us this day, nor yet a pleasanter than he. An he abide with us, we shall grow rich.” Then he returned to Ibrahim and found him weeping; so he sat down and began to rub6 his feet and kiss them, saying, “O my lord, wherefore weepest thou? May Allah not make thee weep!” Said Ibrahim, “O uncle, I have a mind to drink with thee this night;” and the porter replied, “Hearing and obeying!” So he gave him five dinars and said, “Buy us fresh fruit and wine;” and presently added other five, saying, “With these buy also for us dessert7 and flowers and five fat fowls and bring me a lute.” The doorkeeper went out and, buying what he had ordered, said to his wife, “Strain this wine and cook us this food and look thou dress it daintily, for this young man overwhelmeth us with his bounties.” She did as he bade her, to the utmost of desire; and he took the victuals and carried them to Ibrahim son of the Sultan. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. “Father of the Lion.”
2 Or as we should say, “Thy blood will be on thine own head.”
3 Called after the famous town in Persian Mesopotamia which however is spelt with the lesser aspirate. See p. 144. The Geographical works of Sádik-i-Ispaháni, London Oriental Transl. Fund, 1882. Hamdan (with the greater aspirate) and Hamdun mean only the member masculine, which may be a delicate piece of chaff for the gallery
4 Arab. “Hulwán al-miftáh,” for which see vol. vii. 212. Mr. Payne compares it with the French denier à Dieu. given to the concierge on like occasions.
5 Arab. “‘Udm,” a relish, the Scotch “kitchen,” Lat. Opsonium, Ital. Companatico and our “by-meat.” See vol. iv. 128.
6 Arab. “Kabasa” = he shampoo’d. See vol. ii. 17.
7 Arab. “Nukl.” See supra p. 177.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that then they ate and drank and made merry, and Ibrahim wept and repeated the following verses,
“O my friend! an I rendered my life, my sprite,
My wealth and whatever the world can unite;
Nay, th’ Eternal Garden and Paradise1
For an hour of Union my heart would buy’t!”
Then he sobbed a great sob and fell down a-swoon. The porter sighed, and when he came to himself, he said to him, “O my lord, what is it gars thee weep and who is she to whom thou alludest in these verses? Indeed, she cannot be but as dust to thy feet.” But Ibrahim arose and for all reply brought out a parcel of the richest raiment that women wear and said to him, “Take this to thy Harim.” So he carried it to his wife and she returned with him to the young man’s lodging and behold, she found him weeping, quoth the doorkeeper to him, “Verily, thou breakest our hearts! Tell us what fair one thou desirest, and she shall be naught save thy handmaid.” Quoth he, “O uncle, know that I am the son of al-Kasib, Wazir of Egypt, and I am enamoured of Jamilah, daughter of Abu al-Lays the Governor.” Exclaimed the porter’s wife, “Allah! Allah! O my brother, leave this talk, lest any hear of us and we perish. Verily there is not on earth’s face a more masterful than she, nor may any name to her the word man, for she is averse from men. Wherefore, O my son, turn from her to other than her.” Now when Ibrahim heard this, he wept with sore weeping and the doorkeeper said to him, “I have nothing save my life; but that I will risk for thy love and find thee a means of winning thy will.” Then the twain went out from him, and on the morrow he betook himself to the Hammam and donned a suit of royal raiment, after which he returned to his lodging, when behold, the porter and his wife came in to him and said, “Know, O my lord, that there is a humpbacked tailor here who seweth for the lady Jamilah. Go thou to him and acquaint him with thy case; haply he will show thee the way of attaining thine aim.” So the youth Ibrahim arose and betaking himself to the shop of the humpbacked tailor, went in to him and found with him ten Mamelukes as they were moons. He saluted them with the Salam, and they returned his greeting and bade him welcome and made him sit down; and indeed they rejoiced in him and were amazed at his charms and loveliness, especially the hunchback who was confounded at his beauty of form and favour. Presently he said to the Gobbo, “I desire that thou sew me up my pocket;” and the tailor took a needleful of silk and sewed up his pocket which he. had torn purposely; whereupon Ibrahim gave him five dinars and returned to his lodging. Quoth the tailor, “What thing have I done for this youth, that he should give me five gold pieces?” And he passed the night, pondering his beauty and generosity. And when morning morrowed Ibrahim repaired to the shop and saluted the tailor, who returned his Salam and welcomed him and made much of him. Then he sat down and said to the hunchback, “O uncle, sew up my pocket, for I have rent it again.” Replied the tailor, “On my head and eyes, O my son,” and sewed it up; whereupon Ibrahim gave him ten ducats and he took them, amazed at his beauty and generosity. Then said he, “By Allah, O youth, for this conduct of thine needs must be a cause, this is no matter of sewing up a pocket. But tell me the truth of thy case. An thou be in love with one of these boys,2 by Allah, there is not among them a comelier than thou, for they are each and every as the dust at thy feet; and behold, they are all thy slaves and at thy command. Or if it be other than this, tell me.” Replied Ibrahim, “O uncle, this is no place for talk, for my case is wondrous and my affair marvellous.” Rejoined the tailor, “An it be so, come with me to a place apart.” So saying, he rose up in haste and took the youth by the hand and carrying him into a chamber behind the shop, said, “Now tell me thy tale, O youth!” Accordingly Ibrahim related his story first and last to the tailor, who was amazed at his speech and cried, “O youth, fear Allah for thyself:3 indeed she of whom thou speakest is a virago and averse from men. Wherefore, O my brother, do thou guard thy tongue, else thou wilt destroy thyself.” When Ibrahim heard the hunchback’s words, he wept with sore weeping and clinging to the tailor’s skirts said, “Help me, O my uncle, or I am a dead man; for I have left my kingdom and the kingdom of my father and grandfather and am become a stranger in the lands and lonely; nor can I endure without her.” When the tailor saw how it was with him, he pitied him and said, “O my son, I have but my life and that I will venture for thy love, for thou makest my heart ache. But by to-morrow I will contrive thee somewhat whereby thy heart shall be solaced. Ibrahim blessed him and returning to the khan, told the doorkeeper what The hunchback had said, and he answered, “Indeed, he hath dealt kindly with thee.” Next morning, the youth donned his richest dress and taking a purse of gold, repaired to the Gobbo and saluted him. Then he sat down and said, “O uncle, keep thy word with me.” Quoth the hunchback, “Arise forthright and take thee three fat fowls and three ounces4 of sugar-candy and two small jugs which do thou fill with wine; also a cup. Lay all these in a budget5 and to-morrow, after the morning-prayers, take boat with them, saying to the boatman, ‘I would have thee row me down the river below Bassorah.’ An he say to thee, ‘I cannot go farther than a parasang’ do thou answer, ‘As thou wilt;’ but, when he shall have come so far, lure him on with money to carry thee farther; and the first flower-garden thou wilt descry after this will be that of the lady Jamilah. Go up to the gate as soon as thou espiest it and there thou wilt see two high steps, carpeted with brocade, and seated thereon a Quasimodo like me. Do thou complain to him of thy case and crave his favour: belike he will have compassion on thy condition and bring thee to the sight of her, though but for a moment from afar. This is all I can do for thee; and unless he be moved to pity for thee, we be dead men, I and thou. This then is my rede and the matter rests with the Almighty.” Quoth Ibrahim, “I seek aid of Allah; whatso He willeth becometh; and there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!” Then he left the hunchback tailor and returned to his lodging where, taking the things his adviser had named, he laid them in a bag. On the morrow, as soon as it was day, he went down to Tigris bank, where he found a boatman asleep; so he awoke him and giving him ten sequins, bade him row him down the river below Bassorah. Quoth the man, “O my lord, it must be on condition that I go no farther than a parasang; for if I pass that distance by a span, I am a lost man, and thou too.” And quoth Ibrahim, “Be it as thou wilt.” Thereupon he took him and dropped down the river with him till he drew near the flower garden, when he said to him, “O my son, I can go no farther; for, if I pass this limit, we are both dead men.” Hereat Ibrahim pulled out other ten dinars and gave them to him, saying, “Take this spending-money and better thy case therewithal.” The boatman was ashamed to refuse him and fared on with him crying “I commit the affair to Allah the Almighty!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Jannat al-Khuld” and “Firdaus,” two of the Heavens repeatedly noticed.
2 The naiveté is purely Horatian, that is South European versus North European.
3 i.e. “Have some regard for thy life.”
4 Arab. “Awák” plur. of Úkiyyah a word known throughout the Moslem East. As an ounce it weighs differently in every country and in Barbary (Mauritania) which we call Morocco, it is a nominal coin containing twelve Flús (fulús) now about = a penny. It is a direct descendant from the “Uk” or “Wuk” (ounce) of the hieroglyphs (See Sharpe’s Egypt or any other Manual) and first appeared in Europe as the Greek {Greek letters}.
5 Arab. “Kárah” usually a large bag.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the youth Ibrahim gave the boatman other ten dinars, the man took them, saying, “I commit the affair to Allah the Almighty!” and fared on with him down stream. When they came to the flower garden, the youth sprang out of the boat, in his joy, a spring of a spear’s cast from the land, and cast himself down, whilst the boatman turned and fled. Then Ibrahim fared forward and found all as it had been described by the Gobbo: he also saw the garden-gate open, and in the porch a couch of ivory, whereon sat a hump backed man of pleasant presence, clad in gold-laced clothes and hending in hand a silvern mace plated with gold. So he hastened up to him and seizing his hand kissed it; whereupon asked the hunchback, “Who art thou and whence comest thou and who brought thee hither, O my son?” And indeed, when the man saw Ibrahim Khasib-son, he was amazed at his beauty. He answered, “O uncle, I am an ignorant lad and a stranger,” and he wept. The hunchback had pity on him and taking him up on the couch, wiped away his tears and said to him, “No harm shall come to thee. An thou be in debt, may Allah settle thy debt: and if thou be in fear, may Allah appease thy fear!” Replied Ibrahim, “O uncle, I am neither in fear nor am I in debt, but have money in plenty, thanks to Allah.” Rejoined the other, “Then, O my son, what is thy need that thou venturest thyself and thy loveliness to a place wherein is destruction?” So he told him his story and disclosed to him his case, whereupon the man bowed his head earthwards awhile, then said to him, “Was he who directed thee to me the humpbacked tailor?” “Yes,” answered Ibrahim, and the keeper said, “This is my brother, and he is a blessed man!” presently adding, “But, O my son, had not affection for thee sunkinto my heart, and had I not taken compassion on thee, verily thou wert lost, thou and my brother and the doorkeeper of the Khan and his wife. For know that this flower-garden hath not its like on the face of the earth and that it is called the Garden of the Wild Heifer,1 nor hath any entered it in all my life long, save the Sultan and myself and its mistress Jamilah; and I have dwelt here twenty years and never yet saw any else attain to this stead. Every forty days the Lady Jamilah cometh hither in a bark and landeth in the midst of her women, under a canopy of satin, whose skirts ten damsels hold up with hooks of gold, whilst she entereth, and I see nothing of her. Natheless, I have but my life and I will risk it for the sake of thee.” Herewith Ibrahim kissed his hand and the keeper said to him, “Sit by me, till I devise somewhat for thee.” Then he took him by the hand and carried him into the flower-garden which, when he saw, he deemed it Eden, for therein were trees intertwining and palms high towering and waters welling and birds with various voices carolling. Presently, the keeper brought him to a domed pavilion and said to him, “This is where the Lady Jamilah sitteth.” So he examined it and found it of the rarest of pleasances, full of all manner paintings in gold and lapis lazuli. It had four doors, whereto man mounted by five steps, and in its centre was a cistern of water, to which led down steps of gold all set with precious stones. Amiddlewards the basin was a fountain of gold, with figures, large and small, and water jetting in gerbes from their mouths; and when, by reason of the issuing forth of the water, they attuned themselves to various tones, it seemed to the hearer as though he were in Eden. Round the pavilion ran a channel of water, turning a Persian wheel2 whose buckets 3 were silvern covered with brocade. To the left of the pavilion4 was a lattice of silver, giving upon a green park, wherein were all manner wild cattle and gazelles and hares, and on the right hand was another lattice, overlooking a meadow full of birds of all sorts, warbling in various voices and bewildering the hearers’ wits. Seeing all this the youth was delighted and sat down in the doorway by the gardener, who said to him, “How seemeth to thee my garden?” Quoth Ibrahim “’Tis the Paradise of the world!” Whereat the gardener laughed. Then he rose and was absent awhile and presently returned with a tray, full of fowls and quails and other dainties including sweet-meats of sugar, which he set before Ibrahim, saying, “Eat thy sufficiency” So he ate his fill, whereat the keeper rejoiced and cried, “By Allah, this is the fashion of Kings and sons of Kings!”5 Then said he, “O Ibrahim, what hast thou in yonder bag?” Accordingly he opened it before him and the keeper said, “Carry it with thee; ’twill serve thee when the Lady Jamilah cometh; for when once she is come, I shall not be able to bring thee food.” Then he rose and taking the youth by the hand, brought him to a place fronting the pavilion, where he made him an arbour6 among the trees and said to him, “Get thee up here, and when she cometh thou wilt see her and she will not see thee. This is the best I can do for thee and on Allah be our dependence! Whenas she singeth, drink thou to her singing, and whenas she departeth thou shalt return in safety whence thou camest, Inshallah!” Ibrahim thanked him and would have kissed his hand, but he forbade him. Then the youth laid the bag in the arbour and the keeper said to him, “O Ibrahim, walk about and take thy pleasure in the garth and eat of its fruits, for thy mistress’s coming is appointed to be to- morrow.” So he solaced himself in the garden and ate of its fruits; after which he righted with the keeper. And when morning morrowed and showed its sheen and shone, he prayed the dawn-prayer and presently the keeper came to him with a pale face, and said to him, “Rise, O my son, and go up into the arbour: for the slave-girls are come to order the place, and she cometh after them;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Lúlúah,” which may mean the Union-pearl; but here used in the sense of wild cow, the bubalus antelope, alluding to the farouche nature of Miss Jamilah. We are also told infrà that the park was full of “Wuhúsh” = wild cattle
2 Arab. “Sákiyah,” the venerable old Persian wheel, for whos music see Pilgrimage ii. 198. But Sakiyah” is also applied, as here, to the water-channel which turns the wheel.
3 Arab. “Kawádís,” plur. of “Kádús,” the pots round the rim of the Persian wheel: usually they are of coarse pottery.
4 In the text “Sákiyah” a manifest error for “Kubbah.”
5 Easterns greatly respect a belle fourchette, especially when the eater is a lover.
6 Arab. “‘Aríshah,” a word of many meanings, tent, nest, vine — trellis, etc.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the keeper came to Ibrahim Khasib-son in the Garden he said to him, “Rise, O my son, and go up into the arbour; for the slave-girls are come to order the place and she cometh after them. So beware lest thou spit or sneeze or blow thy nose1; else we are dead men, I and thou.” Hereupon Ibrahim rose and went up into his nest, whilst the keeper fared forth, saying, “Allah grant thee safety, O my son!” Presently behold, up came four slave-girls, whose like none ever saw, and entering the pavilion, doffed their outer dresses and washed it. Then they sprinkled it with rose-water and incensed it with ambergris and aloes-wood and spread it with brocade. After these came fifty other damsels, with instruments of music, and amongst them Jamilah, within a canopy of red brocade, whose skirts the handmaidens bore up with hooks of gold, till she had entered the pavilion, so that Ibrahim saw naught of her nor of her raiment. So he said to himself, “By Allah, all my travail is lost! But needs must I wait to see how the case will be.” Then the damsels brought meat and drink and they ate and drank and washed their hands, after which they set her a royal chair and she sat down; and all played on instruments of music and with ravishing voices incomparably sang. Presently, out ran an old woman, a duenna, and clapped hands and danced, whilst the girls pulled her about, till the curtain was lifted and forth came Jamilah laughing. Ibrahim gazed at her and saw that she was clad in costly robes and ornaments, and on her head was a crown set with pearls and gems. About her long fair neck she wore a necklace of unions and her waist was clasped with a girdle of chrysolite bugles, with tassels of rubies and pearls. The damsels kissed ground before her, and, ‘When I considered her” (quoth Ibrahim), “I took leave of my senses and wit and I was dazed and my thought was confounded for amazement at the sight of loveliness whose like is not on the face of the earth. So I fell into a swoon and coming to myself, weeping eyed, recited these two couplets,
‘I see thee and close not mine eyes for fear
Lest their lids prevent me beholding thee:
An I gazed with mine every glance these eyne
Ne’er could sight all the loveliness moulding thee.’”
Then said the old Kahramanah2 to the girls, “Let ten of you arise and dance and sing.” And Ibrahim when looking at them said in himself, “I wish the lady Jamilah would dance.” When the handmaidens had made an end of their pavane, they gathered round the Princess and said to her, “O my lady, we long for thee to dance amongst us, so the measure of our joy may be fulfilled, for never saw we a more delicious day than this.” Quoth Ibrahim to himself, “Doubtless the gates of Heaven are open3 and Allah hath granted my prayer.” Then the damsels bussed her feet and said to her, “By Allah, we never saw thee broadened of breast as to day!” Nor did they cease exciting her, till she doffed her outer dress and stood in a shift of cloth of gold,4 broidered with various jewels, showing breasts which stood out like pomegranates and unveiling a face as it were the moon on the night of fullness. Then she began to dance, and Ibrahim beheld motions he had never in his life seen their like, for she showed such wondrous skill and marvellous invention, that she made men forget the dancing of bubbles in wine-cups and called to mind the inclining of the turbands from head5-tops: even as saith of her the poet6,
“A dancer whose form is like branch of Ban!
Flies my soul well nigh as his steps I greet:
While he dances no foot stands still and meseems
That the fire of my heart is beneath his feet.”
And as quoth another,7
“A dancer whose figure is like a willow-branch:
my soul almost quitteth me at the sight of her movements.
No foot can remain stationary at her dancing,
she is as though the fire of my heart were beneath her feet.”
Quoth Ibrahim, “As I gazed upon her, she chanced to look up and caught sight of me whereupon her face changed and she said to her women, ‘Sing ye till I come back to you.’ Then, taking up a knife half a cubit long, she made towards me, crying, ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious the Great!’ Now when I saw this, I well-nigh lost my wits but, whenas she drew near me and face met face, the knife dropped from her hand, and she exclaimed, ‘Glory to Him who changeth men’s hearts!’ Then said she to me, ‘O youth, be of good cheer, for thou art safe from what thou dost fear!’ Whereupon I fell to weeping, and she to wiping away my tears with her hand and saying, ‘O youth, tell me who thou art, and what brought thee hither’ I kissed the ground before her and seized her skirt; and she said, No harm shall come to thee; for, by Allah, no male hath ever filled mine eyes8 but thyself! Tell me, then, who thou art.’ So I recited to her my story from first to last, whereat she marvelled and said to me, ‘O my lord, I conjure thee by Allah, tell me if thou be Ibrahim bin al-Khasib?’ I replied, ‘Yes!’ and she threw herself upon me, saying, ‘O my lord, ’twas thou madest me averse from men; for, when I heard that there was in the land of Egypt a youth than whom there was none more beautiful on earth’s face, I fell in love with thee by report, and my heart became enamoured of thee, for that which reached me of thy passing comeliness, so that I was, in respect of thee, even as saith the poet,
‘Mine ear forewent mine eye in loving him;
For ear shall love before the eye at times.’
‘So praised be Allah who hath shown thy face! But, by the almighty, had it been other than thou, I had crucified the keeper of the garden and the porter of the Khan and the tailor and him who had recourse to them!’ And presently she added, ‘But how shall I contrive for somewhat thou mayst eat, without the knowledge of my women?’ Quoth I, ‘With me is somewhat we may eat and drink;’ and I opened the bag before her. She took a fowl and began to morsel me and I to morsel her; which when I saw, it seemed to me that this was a dream. Then I brought out wine and we drank, what while the damsels sang on; nor did they leave to do thus from morn to noon, when she rose and said, ‘Go now and get thee a boat and await me in such a place, till I come to thee: for I have no patience left to brook severance.’ I replied, ‘O my lady, I have with me a ship of my own, whose crew are in my hire, and they await me.’ Rejoined she, ‘This is as we would have it,’ and returning to her women,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 To spit or blow the nose in good society is “vulgar.” Sneezing (Al-‘Atsah) is a complicated affair. For Talmudic traditions of death by sneezing see Lane (M. E. chaps. viii). Amongst Hindus sneezing and yawning are caused by evil spirits whom they drive away by snapping thumb and forefinger as loudly as possible. The pagan Arabs held sneezing a bad omen, which often stopped their journeys. Moslems believe that when Allah placed the Soul (life?) in Adam, the dry clay became flesh and bone and the First Man, waking to life, sneezed and ejaculated “Alhamdolillah;” whereto Gabriel replied, “Allah have mercy upon thee, O Adam!” Mohammed, who liked sneezing because accompanied by lightness of body and openness of pores, said of it, “If a man sneeze or eructate and say ‘Alhamdolillah’ he averts seventy diseases of which the least is leprosy” (Juzám); also “If one of you sneeze, let him exclaim, ‘Alhamdolillah,’ and let those around salute him in return with, ‘Allah have mercy upon thee!’ and lastly let him say, ‘Allah direct you and strengthen your condition.”’ Moderns prefer, “Allah avert what may joy thy foe!”= (our God bless you!) to which the answer is “Alhamdolillah!” Mohammed disliked yawning (Suabá or Thuabá), because not beneficial as a sneeze and said, “If one of you gape and over not his mouth, a devil leaps into it. “ This is still a popular superstition from Baghdad to Morocco.
2 A duenna, nursery governess, etc. See vol. i. 231.
3 For this belief see the tale called “The Night of Power,” vol. vi. 180.
4 The Anglo-lndian “Kincob” (Kimkh’áb); brocade, silk flowered with gold or silver.
5 Lane finds a needless difficulty in this sentence, which is far-fetched only because Kuus (cups) requires Ruus (head-tops) byway of jingle. It means only “’Twas merry in hall when beards wag all.”
6 The Mac. Edit. gives two couplets which have already occurred from the Bull Edit i. 540.
7 The lines are half of four couplets in vol. iv. 192; so I quote Lane.
8.i.e. none hath pleased me. I have quoted the popular saying, “The son of the quarter filleth not the eye.” i.e. women prefer stranger faces.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Lady Jamilah returned to her women, she said to them, “Come, let us go back to our palace.” They replied, “Why should we return now, seeing that we use to abide here three days?” Quoth she, “I feel an exceeding oppression in myself, as though I were sick, and I fear lest this increase upon me.”1 So they answered, “We hear and obey,” and donning their walking dresses went down to the river-bank and embarked in a boat; whereupon behold, the keeper of the garden came up to Ibrahim and said to him, knowing not what had happened, “O Ibrahim, thou hast not had the luck to enjoy the sight of her, and I fear lest she have seen thee, for ’tis her wont to tarry here three days.” Replied Ibrahim, “She saw me not nor I her; for she came not forth of the pavilion.”2 Rejoined the keeper, “True, O my son, for, had she seen thee, we were both dead men: but abide with me till she come again next week, and thou shalt see her and take thy fill of looking at her.” Replied the Prince, “O my lord, I have with me money and fear for it: I also left men behind me and I dread lest they take advantage of my absence.”3 He retorted, “O my son ’tis grievous to me to part with thee;” and he embraced and farewelled him. Then Ibrahim returned to the Khan where he lodged, and foregathering with the doorkeeper, took of him all his property and the porter said, “Good news, Inshallah!”4 But Ibrahim said, “I have found no way to my want, and now I am minded to return to my people.” Whereupon the porter wept; then taking up his baggage, he carried them to the ship and abade him adieu. Ibrahim repaired to the place which Jamilah had appointed him and awaited her there till it grew dark, when, behold, she came up, disguised as a bully-boy with rounded beard and waist bound with a girdle. In one hand she held a bow and arrows and in the other a bared blade, and she asked him, “Art thou Ibrahim, son of al-Khasib, lord of Egypt?” “He I am,” answered the Prince; and she said, “What ne’er-do-well art thou, who comes to debauch the daughters of Kings? Come: speak with the Sultan.”5 “Therewith” (quoth Ibrahim) “I fell down in a swoon and the sailors died6 in their skins for fear; but, when she saw what had betided me, she pulled off her beard and throwing down her sword, ungirdled her waist whereupon I knew her for the Lady Jamilah and said to her, ‘By Allah, thou hast rent my heart in sunder!’7 adding to the boatmen, ‘Hasten the vessel’s speed.’ So they shook out the sail and putting off, fared on with all diligence; nor was it many days ere we made Baghdad, where suddenly we saw a ship lying by the river-bank. When her sailors saw us, they cried out to our crew, saying, ‘Ho, such an one and such an one, we give you joy of your safety!’ Then they drave their ship against our craft and I looked and in the other boat beheld Abu al-Kasim al-Sandalani who when he saw us exclaimed ‘This is what I sought: go ye in God’s keeping; as for me, I have a need to be satisfied!’ Then he turned to me and said, ‘Praised be Allah for safety! Hast thou accomplished thine errand? I replied, ‘Yes!’ Now Abu al-Kasim had a flambeau before him; so he brought it near our boat,8 and when Jamilah saw him, she was troubled and her colour changed: but, when he saw her, he said, ‘Fare ye in Allah’s safety. I am bound to Bassorah on business for the Sultan; but the gift is for him who is present.’9 Then he brought out a box of sweetmeats, wherein was Bhang and threw it into our boat: whereupon quoth I to Jamilah, ‘O coolth of mine eyes, eat of this.’ But she wept and said, ‘O Ibrahim, wottest thou who that is?’ and said I, ‘Yes, ’tis such an one.’ Replied she, ‘He is my first cousin, son of my father’s brother10 who sought me aforetime in marriage of my sire; but I would not accept of him. And now he is gone to Bassorah and most like he will tell my father of us.’ I rejoined, ‘O my lady he will not reach Bassorah, till we are at Mosul.’ But we knew not what lurked for us in the Secret Purpose. “Then” (continued Ibrahim) “I ate of the sweetmeat, but hardly had it reached my stomach when I smote the ground with my head; and lay there till near dawn, when I sneezed and the Bhang issued from my nostrils. With this, I opened my eyes and found myself naked and cast out among ruins; so I buffeted my face and said in myself, ‘Doubtless this is a trick al-Sandalani hath played me.’ But I knew not whither I should wend, for I had upon me naught save my bag-trousers.11 However, I rose and walked on a little, till I suddenly espied the Chief of Police coming towards me, with a posse of men with swords and targes;12 whereat I took fright and seeing a ruined Hammam hid myself there. Presently, my foot stumbled upon something; so I put my hand to it, and it became befouled with blood. I wiped my hand upon my bag-trousers, unknowing what had befouled it, and put it out a second time, when it fell upon a corpse whose head came up in my hand. I threw it down, saying, ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!’; and I took refuge in one of the corner-cabinets of the Hammam. Presently the Wali stopped at the bath-door and said, ‘Enter this place and search.’ So ten of them entered with cressets, and I of my fear retired behind a wall and looking upon the corpse, saw it to be that of a young lady13 with a face like the full moon; and her head lay on one side and her body clad in costly raiment on the other. When I saw this, my heart fluttered with affright. Then the Chief of Police entered and said, ‘Search the corners of the bath.’ So they entered the place wherein I was, and one of them seeing me came up hending in hand a knife half a cubit long. When he drew near me, he cried, ‘Glory be to God, the Creator of this fair face! O youth, whence art thou?’ Then he took me by the hand and said, ‘O youth, why slewest thou this woman?’ Said I, ‘By Allah, I slew her not, nor wot I who slew her, and I entered not this place but in fear of you!’ And I told him my case, adding, ‘Allah upon thee, do me no wrong, for I am in concern for myself!’ Then he took me and carried me to the Wali who, seeing the marks of blood on my hand said, ‘This needeth no proof: strike off his head!’— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Here after the favourite Oriental fashion, she tells the truth but so enigmatically that it is more deceptive than an untruth; a good Eastern quibble infinitely more dangerous than an honest downright lie. The consciousness that the falsehood is part fact applies a salve to conscience and supplies a force lacking in the mere fib. When an Egyptian lies to you look straight in his eyes and he will most often betray himself either by boggling or by a look of injured innocence.
2 Another true lie.
3 Arab. ‘‘Yastaghíbuní,” lit. = they deem my absence too long.
4 An euphemistic form of questioning after absence: “Is all right with thee?”
5 Arab. “Kallim al-Sultan!” the formula of summoning which has often occurred in The Nights.
6 Lane translates “Almost died,” Payne “Well-nigh died;” but the text says “died.” I would suggest to translators
“Be bould, be bould and every where be bould!”
7 He is the usual poltroon contrasted with the manly and masterful girl, a conjunction of the lioness and the lamb sometimes seen in real life.
8 That he might see Jamilah as Ibrahim had promised.
9 A popular saying, i.e., les absents ont tonjours tort.
10 Who had a prior right to marry her, but not against her consent after she was of age.
11 Arab “Sirwál.” In Al–Hariri it is a singular form (see No. ii. of the twelve riddles in Ass. xxiv.), but Mohammed said to his followers “Tuakhkhizú” (adopt ye) “Saráwílát.” The latter is regularly declinable but the broken form Saráwíl is imperfectly declinable on account of its “heaviness,” as are all plurals whose third letter is an Alif followed by i or í in the next syllable.
12 Arab. “Matarik” from mitrak or mitrakah a small wooden shield coated with hide This even in the present day is the policeman’s equipment in the outer parts of the East.
13 Arab. “Sabíyah” for which I prefer Mr. Payne’s “young lady” to Lane’s “damsel” the latter should be confined to Járiyah as both bear the double sense of girl and slave (or servant) girl. “Bins” again is daughter, maid or simply girl.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ibrahim continued, ‘Then they carried me before the Wali and he, seeing the bloodstains on my hand, cried, ‘This needeth no proof: strike off his head!’ Now hearing these words, I wept with sore weeping the tears streaming from my eyes and recited these two couplets1,
‘We trod the steps that for us were writ,
And whose steps are written he needs must tread
And whose death is decreed in one land to be
He ne’er shall perish in other stead.’
Then I sobbed a single sob and fell a-swoon; and the headsman’s heart was moved to ruth for me and he exclaimed, ‘By Allah, this is no murtherer’s face!’ But the Chief said, ‘Smite his neck.’ So they seated me on the rug of blood and bound my eyes; after which the sworder drew his sword and asking leave of the Wali, was about to strike off my head, whilst I cried out, ‘Alas, my strangerhood!’ when lo and behold! I heard a noise of horse coming up and a voice calling aloud, ‘Leave him! Stay thy hand, O Sworder!’”— Now there was for this a wondrous reason and a marvellous cause; and ’twas thus. al-Khasib, Wazir of Egypt, had sent his Head Chamberlain to the Caliph Harun al, Rashid with presents and a letter, saying, “My son hath been missing this year past, and I hear that he is in Baghdad; where fore I crave of the bounty of the Vicegerent of Allah that he make search for tidings of him and do his endeavour to find him and send him back to me with the Chamberlain.” When the Caliph read the missive, he commanded the Chief of Police to search out the truth of the matter, and he ceased not to enquire after Ibrahim, till it was told him that he was at Bassorah, where upon he informed the Caliph, who wrote a letter to the viceroy and giving it to the Chamberlain of Egypt, bade him repair to Bassorah and take with him a company of the Wazir’s followers. So, of his eagerness to find the son of his lord, the Chamberlain set out forthright and happened by the way upon Ibrahim, as he stood on the rug of blood. When the Wali saw the Chamberlain, he recognised him and alighted to him and as he asked, “What young man is that and what is his case?” The Chief told him how the matter was and the Chamberlain said (and indeed he knew him not for the son of the Sultan2) “Verily this young man hath not the face of one who murthereth.” And he bade loose his bonds; so they loosed him and the Chamberlain said, “Bring him to me!” and they brought him, but the officer knew him not his beauty being all gone for the horrors he had endured. Then the Chamberlain said to him, “O youth, tell me thy case and how cometh this slain woman with thee.” Ibrahim looked at him and knowing him, said to him, “Woe to thee! Dost thou not know me? Am I not Ibrahim, son of thy lord? Haply thou art come in quest of me.” With this the Chamberlain considered him straitly and knowing him right well, threw himself at his feet; which when the Wali saw, his colour changed, and the Chamber lain cried to him, “Fie upon thee, O tyrant! Was it thine intent to slay the son of my master al-Khasib, Wazir of Egypt?” The Chief of Police kissed his skirt, saying “O my lord,3 how should I know him? We found him in this plight and saw the girl lying slain by his side.” Rejoined the Chamberlain, “Out on thee! Thou art not fit for the office. This is a lad of fifteen and he hath not slain a sparrow; so how should he be a murtherer? Why didst thou not have patience with him and question him of his case?” Then the Chamberlain and the Wali cried to the men, “Make search for the young lady’s murtherer.” So they re-entered the bath and finding him, brought him to the Chief of Police, who carried him to the Caliph and acquainted him with that which had occurred. al-Rashid bade slay the slayer and sending for Ibrahim, smiled in his face and said to him, “Tell me thy tale and that which hath betided thee.” So he recounted to him his story from first to last, and it was grievous to the Caliph, who called Masrur his Sworder, and said to him, “Go straightway and fall upon the house of Abu al-Kasim al-Sandalani and bring me him and the young lady.” The eunuch went forth at once and breaking into the house, found Jamilah bound with her own hair and nigh upon death; so he loosed her and taking the painter, carried them both to the Caliph, who marvelled at Jamilah’s beauty. Then he turned to Al — Sandalani and said, “Take him and cut off his hands, wherewith he beat this young lady; then crucify him and deliver his monies and possessions to Ibrahim.” They did his bidding, and as they were thus, behold, in came Abu al-Lays governor of Bassorah, the Lady Jamilah’s father, seeking aid of the Caliph against Ibrahim bin al — Khasib Wazir of Egypt and complaining to him that the youth had taken his daughter. Quoth al-Rashid, “He hath been the means of delivering her from torture and slaughter.” Then he sent for Ibrahim, and when he came, he said to Abu al-Lays, “Wilt thou not accept of this young man, son of the Soldan of Egypt, as husband to thy daughter? ‘ Replied Abu al-Lays, “I hear and I obey Allah and thee, O Commander of the Faithful;” whereupon the Caliph summoned the Kazi and the witnesses and married the young lady to Ibrahim. Furthermore, he gave him all Al Sandalani’s wealth and equipped him for his return to his own country, where he abode with Jamilah in the utmost of bliss and the most perfect of happiness, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies; and glory be to the Living who dieth not! They also relate, O auspicious King, a tale anent
1 The sense of them is found in vol. ii. 41.
2 Here the text is defective, but I hardly like to supply the omission. Mr. Payne introduces from below, “for that his charms were wasted and his favour changed by reason of the much terror and affliction he had suffered.” The next lines also are very abrupt and unconnected.
3 Arab. “Yá Mauláya!” the term is still used throughout Moslem lands; but in Barbary where it is pronounced “Mooláee” Europeans have converted it to “Muley” as if it had some connection with the mule. Even in Robinson Crusoe we find “muly” or “Moly Ismael” (chaps. ii.); and we hear the high-sounding name Maulá-i-Idrís, the patron saint of the Sunset Land, debased to “Muley Drís.”
The Caliph Al–Mu’tazid bi ’llah2 was a high-spirited Prince and a noble-minded lord; he had in Baghdad six hundred Wazirs and of the affairs of the folk naught was hidden from him. He went forth one day, he and Ibn Hamdún,3 to divert himself with observing his lieges and hearing the latest news of the people; and, being overtaken with the heats of noonday, they turned aside from the main thoroughfare into a little by-street, at the upper end whereof they saw a handsome and high-builded mansion, discoursing of its owner with the tongue of praise. They sat down at the gate to take rest, and presently out came two eunuchs as they were moons on their fourteenth night. Quoth one of them to his fellow, “Would Heaven some guest would seek admission this day! My master will not eat but with guests and we are come to this hour and I have not yet seen a soul.” The Caliph marvelled at their speech and said, “This is a proof of the house-master’s liberality: there is no help but that we go in to him and note his generosity, and this shall be a means of favour betiding him from us.” So he said to the eunuch, “Ask leave of thy lord for the admission of a company4 of strangers.” For in those days it was the Caliph’s wont, whenas he was minded to observe his subjects, to disguise himself in merchant’s garb. The eunuch went in and told his master, who rejoiced and rising, came out to them in person. He was fair of favour and fine of form and he appeared clad in a tunic of Níshápúr5 silk and a gold laced mantle; and he dripped with scented waters and wore on his hand a signet ring of rubies. When he saw them, he said to them, “Well come and welcome to the lords who favour us with the utmost of favour by their coming!” So they entered the house and found it such as would make a man forget family and fatherland for it was like a piece of Paradise. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane omits this tale because “it is very similar, but inferior in interest, to the Story told by the Sultan’s Steward.” See vol. i. 278.
2 Sixteenth Abbaside A.H. 279–289 (=A.D. 891–902). “He was comely, intrepid, of grave exterior, majestic in presence, of considerable intellectual power and the fiercest of the Caliphs of the House of Abbas. He once had the courage to attack a lion” (Al–Siyuti). I may add that he was a good soldier and an excellent administrator, who was called Saffáh the Second because he refounded the House of Abbas. He was exceedingly fanatic and died of sensuality, having first kicked his doctor to death, and he spent his last moments in versifying.
3 Hamdún bin Ismá’íl, called the Kátib or Scribe, was the first of his family who followed the profession of a Nadím or Cup-companion. His son Ahmad (who is in the text) was an oral transmitter of poetry and history. Al–Siyúti (p. 390) and De Slane I. Khall (ii. 304) notice him.
4 Probably the Caliph had attendants, but the text afterwards speaks of them as two. Mac. Edit. iv. p. 558, line 2; and a few lines below, “the Caliph and the man with him.”
5 Arab. “Naysábúr,” the famous town in Khorasan where Omar-i-Khayyám (whom our people will call Omar Khayyám) was buried and where his tomb is still a place of pious visitation. A sketch of it has lately appeared in the illustrated papers. For an affecting tale concerning the astronomer-poet’s tomb, borrowed from the Nigáristán see the Preface by the late Mr. Fitzgerald whose admirable excerpts from the Rubaiyat (101 out of 820 quatrains) have made the poem popular among all the English-speaking races.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Caliph entered the mansion, he and the man with him, they saw it to be such as would make one forget family and fatherland, for it was like a piece of Paradise. Within it was a flower-garden, full of all kinds of trees, confounding sight and its dwelling-places were furnished with costly furniture. They sat down and the Caliph fell to gazing at the house and the household gear. (Quoth Ibn Hamdún), “I looked at the Caliph and saw his countenance change, and being wont to know from his face whether he was amused or anangered, said to myself, ‘I wonder what hath vexed him.’ Then they brought a golden basin and we washed our hands, after which they spread a silken cloth and set thereon a table of rattan. When the covers were taken off the dishes, we saw therein meats rare as the blooms of Prime in the season of their utmost scarcity, twofold and single, and the host said, ‘Bismillah, O my lords! By Allah, hunger pricketh me; so favour me by eating of this food, as is the fashion of the noble.’ Thereupon he began tearing fowls apart and laying them before us, laughing the while and repeating verses and telling stories and talking gaily with pleasant sayings such as sorted with the entertainment. We ate and drank, then removed to another room, which confounded beholders with its beauty and which reeked with exquisite perfumes. Here they brought us a tray of fruits freshly-gathered and sweetmeats the finest flavoured, whereat our joys increased and our cares ceased. But withal the Caliph” (continued Ibn Hamdun) “ceased not to wear a frowning face and smiled not at that which gladdened all souls, albeit it was his wont to love mirth and merriment and the putting away of cares, and I knew that he was no envious wight and oppressor. So I said to myself, ‘Would Heaven I knew what is the cause of his moroseness and why we cannot dissipate his ill-humour!’ Presently they brought the tray of wine which friends doth conjoin and clarified draughts in flagons of gold and crystal and silver, and the host smote with a rattan-wand on the door of an inner chamber, whereupon behold, it opened and out came three damsels, high-bosomed virginity with faces like the sun at the fourth hour of the day, one a lutist, another a harpist and the third a dancer-artiste. Then he set before us dried fruits and confections and drew between us and the damsels a curtain of brocade, with tassels of silk and rings of gold. The Caliph paid no heed to all this, but said to the host, who knew not who was in his company, ‘Art thou noble?’1 Said he, ‘No, my lord; I am but a man of the sons of the merchants and am known among the folk as Abú al-Hasan Ali, son of Ahmad of Khorasan.’ Quoth the Caliph, ‘Dost thou know me, O man?’, and quoth he, ‘By Allah, O my lord, I have no knowledge of either of your honours!’ Then said I to him, ‘O man, this is the Commander of the Faithful, Al-Mu’tazid bi ’llah grandson of Al–Mutawakkil alà ’llah.’2 Whereupon he rose and kissed the ground before the Caliph, trembling for fear of him, and said, ‘O Prince of True Believers, I conjure thee, by the virtue of thy pious forbears, an thou have seen in me any shortcomings or lack of good manners in thy presence, do thou forgive me!’ Replied the Caliph, ‘As for that which thou hast done with us of honouring and hospitality nothing could have exceeded it; and as for that wherewith I have to reproach thee here, an thou tell me the truth respecting it and it commend itself to my sense, thou shalt be saved from me; but, an thou tell me not the truth, I will take thee with manifest proof and punish thee with such punishment as never yet punished any.’ Quoth the man, ‘Allah forbid that I tell thee a lie! But what is it that thou reproachest to me, O Commander of the Faithful?’ Quoth the Caliph, ‘Since I entered thy mansion and looked upon its grandeur, I have noted the furniture and vessels therein, nay, even to thy clothes, and behold, on all of them is the name of my grandfather Al–Mutawakkil ala ’llah.’3 Answered Abu al-Hasan, ‘Yes, O Commander of the Faithful (the Almighty protect thee), truth is thine inner garb and sincerity is thine outer garment and none may speak otherwise than truly in thy presence.’ The Caliph bade him be seated and said, ‘Tell us.’” So he began, “Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that my father belonged to the markets of the money-changers and druggists and linendrapers and had in each bazar a shop and an agent and all kinds of goods. Moreover, behind the money-changer’s shop he had an apartment, where he might be private, appointing the shop for buying and selling. His wealth was beyond count and to his riches there was none amount; but he had no child other than myself, and he loved me and was tenderly fain of me. When his last hour was at hand, he called me to him and commended my mother to my care and charged me to fear Almighty Allah. Then he died, may Allah have mercy upon him and continue the Prince of True Believers on life! And I gave myself up to pleasure and eating and drinking and took to myself comrades and intimates. My mother used to forbid me from this and to blame me for it, but I would not hear a word from her, till my money was all gone, when I sold my lands and houses and naught was left me save the mansion wherein I now dwell, and it was a goodly stead, O Commander of the Faithful. So I said to my mother, ‘I wish to sell the house;’ but she said, ‘O my son, an thou sell it, thou wilt be dishonoured and wilt have no place wherein to take shelter.’ Quoth I, ‘’Tis worth five thousand dinars, and with one thousand of its price I will buy me another house and trade with the rest.’ Quoth she, ‘Wilt thou sell it to me at that price?’; and I replied, ‘Yes.’ Whereupon she went to a coffer and opening it, took out a porcelain vessel, wherein were five thousand dinars. When I saw this meseemed the house was all of gold and she said to me, ‘O my son, think not that this is of thy father’s good. By Allah, O my son, it was of my own father’s money and I have treasured it up against a time of need; for, in thy father’s day I was a wealthy woman and had no need of it.’ I took the money from her, O Prince of True Believers, and fell again to feasting and carousing and merrymaking with my friends, unheeding my mother’s words and admonitions, till the five thousand dinars came to an end, when I said to her, ‘I wish to sell the house.’ Said she, ‘O my son, I forbade thee from selling it before, of my knowledge that thou hadst need of it; so how wilt thou sell it a second time?’ Quoth I, ‘Be not longsome of speech with me, for I must and will sell it;’ and quoth she, ‘Then sell it to me for fifteen thousand dinars, on condition that I take charge of thine affairs.’ So I sold her the house at that price and gave up my affairs into her charge, whereupon she sought out the agents of my father and gave each of them a thousand dinars, keeping the rest in her own hands and ordering the outgo and the income. Moreover she gave me money to trade withal and said to me, ‘Sit thou in thy father’s shop.’ So I did her bidding, O Commander of the Faithful, and took up my abode in the chamber behind the shop in the market of the money-changers, and my friends came and bought of me and I sold to them; whereby I made good cheape and my wealth increased. When my mother saw me in this fair way, she discovered to me that which she had treasured up of jewels and precious stones, pearls, and gold, and I bought back my houses and lands that I had squandered and my wealth became great as before. I abode thus for some time, and the factors of my father came to me and I gave them stock-in-trade, and I built me a second chamber behind the shop. One day, as I sat there, according to my custom, O Prince of True Believers, there came up to me a damsel, never saw eyes a fairer than she of favour, and said, ‘Is this the private shop of Abu al-Hasan Ali ibn Ahmad al-Khorasani?’ Answered I, ‘Yes,’ and she asked, ‘Where is he?’ ‘He am I,’ said I, and indeed my wit was dazed at the excess of her loveliness. She sat down and said to me, ‘Bid thy page weigh me out three hundred dinars.’ Accordingly I bade him give her that sum and he weighed it out to her and she took it and went away, leaving me stupefied. Quoth my man to me, ‘Dost thou know her?’, and quoth I, ‘No, by Allah!’ He asked, ‘Then why didst thou bid me give her the money?’; and I answered, ‘By Allah, I knew not what I said, of my amazement at her beauty and loveliness!’ Then he rose and followed her, without my knowledge, but presently returned, weeping and with the mark of a blow on his face. I enquired of him what ailed him, and he replied, ‘I followed the damsel, to see whither she went; but, when she was aware of me, she turned and dealt me this blow and all but knocked out my eye.’ After this, a month passed, without her coming, O Commander of the Faithful, and I abode bewildered for love of her; but, at the end of this time, she suddenly appeared again and saluted me, whereat I was like to fly for joy. She asked me how I did and said to me, ‘Haply thou saidst to thyself, What manner of trickstress is this, who hath taken my money and made off?’ Answered I, ‘By Allah, O my lady, my money and my life are all thy very own!’ With this she unveiled herself and sat down to rest, with the trinkets and ornaments playing over her face and bosom. Presently, she said to me, ‘Weigh me out three hundred dinars. ‘Hearkening and obedience,’ answered I and weighed out to her the money. She took it and went away and I said to my servant, ‘Follow her.’ So he followed her, but returned dumbstruck, and some time passed without my seeing her. But, as I was sitting one day, behold, she came up to me and after talking awhile, said to me, ‘Weigh me out five hundred dinars, for I have need of them.’ I would have said to her, ‘Why should I give thee my money?’; but my love immense hindered me from utterance; for, O Prince of True Believers, whenever I saw her, I trembled in every joint and my colour paled and I forgot what I would have said and became even as saith the poet,
‘’Tis naught but this! When a-sudden I see her
Mumchance I bide nor a word can say her.’
So I weighed out for her the five hundred ducats, and she took them and went away; whereupon I arose and followed her myself, till she came to the jewel-bazar, where she stopped at a man’s shop and took of him a necklace. Then she turned and seeing me, said, ‘Pay him five hundred dinars for me.’ When the jeweller saw me, he rose to me and made much of me, and I said to him, ‘Give her the necklace and set down the price to me.’ He replied, ‘I hear and obey,’ and she took it and went away;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “A-Sharíf anta?” (with the Hamzah-sign of interrogation)=Art thou a Sharíf (or descendant of the Apostle)?
2 Tenth Abbaside (A.H. 234–247=848–861), grandson of Al–Rashid and born of a slave-concubine. He was famous for his hatred of the Alides (he destroyed the tomb of Al–Husayn) and claimed the pardon of Allah for having revised orthodox traditionary doctrines. He compelled the Christians to wear collars of wood or leather and was assassinated by five Turks.
3 His father was Al–Mu’tasim bi ’llah (A.H. 218–227=833–842) the son of Al–Rashid by Máridah a slave-concubine of foreign origin. He was brave and of high spirit, but destitute of education; and his personal strength was such that he could break a man’s elbow between his fingers. He imitated the apparatus of Persian kings; and he was called the “Octonary” because he was the 8th Abbaside; the 8th in descent from Abbas; the 8th son of Al–Rashid; he began his reign in A.H. 218; lived 48 years; was born under Scorpio (8th Zodiacal sign); was victorious in 8 expeditions; slew 8 important foes and left 8 male and 8 female children. For his introducing Turks see vol. iii, 81.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu Hasan the Khorasani thus pursued his tale, “So I said to the jeweller, ‘Give her the necklace and set down the price to me.’ Then she took it and went away; but I followed her, till she came to the Tigris and boarded a boat there, whereupon I signed with my hand to the ground, as who should say, ‘I kiss it before thee.’ She went off laughing, and I stood watching her, till I saw her land and enter a palace, which when I considered, I knew it for the palace of the Caliph Al–Mutawakkil. So I turned back, O Commander of the Faithful, with all the cares in the world fallen on my heart, for she had of me three thousand dinars, and I said to myself, ‘She hath taken my wealth and ravished my wit, and peradventure I shall lose my life for her love.’ Then I returned home and told my mother all that had befallen me, and she said, ‘O my son, beware how thou have to do with her after this, or thou art lost.’ When I went to my shop, my factor in the drug-market, who was a very old man, came to me and said, ‘O my lord, how is it that I see thee changed in case and showing marks of chagrin? Tell me what aileth thee.’ So I told him all that had befallen me with her and he said, ‘O my son, this is indeed one of the handmaidens of the palace of the Commander of the Faithful and haply she is the Caliph’s favourite concubine: so do thou reckon the money as spent for the sake of Almighty Allah1 and occupy thyself no more with her. An she come again, beware lest she have to do with thee and tell me of this, that I may devise thee some device lest perdition betide thee.’ Then he fared forth and left me with a flame of fire in my heart. At the end of the month behold, she came again and I rejoiced in her with exceeding joy. Quoth she, ‘What ailed thee to follow me?’; and quoth I, ‘Excess of passion that is in my heart urged me to this,’ and I wept before her. She wept for ruth of me and said, ‘By Allah, there is not in thy heart aught of love-longing but in my heart is more! Yet how shall I do? By Allah, I have no resource save to see thee thus once a month.’ Then she gave me a bill saying, ‘Carry this to such an one of such a trade who is my agent and take of him what is named therein.’ But I replied, ‘I have no need of money; be my wealth and my life thy sacrifice!’ Quoth she, ‘I will right soon contrive thee a means of access to me, whatever trouble it cost me.’ Then she farewelled me and fared forth, whilst I repaired to the old druggist and told him what had passed. He went with me to the palace of Al–Mutawakkil which I knew for that which the damsel had entered; but the Shaykh was at a loss for a device. Presently he espied a tailor sitting with his apprentices at work in his shop, opposite the lattice giving upon the river bank and said to me, ‘Yonder is one by whom thou shalt win thy wish; but first tear thy pocket and go to him and bid him sew it up. When he hath done this, give him ten dinars.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered I and taking with me two pieces2 of Greek brocade, went to the tailor and bade him make of them four suits, two with long-sleeved coats and two without. When he had finished cutting them out and sewing them, I gave him to his hire much more than of wont, and he put out his hand to me with the clothes; but I said, ‘Take them for thyself and for those who are with thee.’ And I fell to sitting with him and sitting long: I also bespoke of him other clothes and said to him, ‘Hang them out in front of thy shop, so the folk may see them and buy them.’ He did as I bade him, and whoso came forth of the Caliph’s palace and aught of the clothes pleased him, I made him a present thereof, even to the doorkeeper. One day of the days the tailor said to me, ‘O my son, I would have thee tell me the truth of thy case; for thou hast bespoken of me an hundred costly suits, each worth a mint of money, and hast given the most of them to the folk. This is no merchant’s fashion, for a merchant calleth an account for every dirham, and what can be the sum of thy capital that thou givest these gifts and what thy gain every year? Tell me the truth of thy case, that I may assist thee to thy desire;’ presently adding, ‘I conjure thee by Allah, tell me, art thou not in love?’ ‘Yes,’ replied I; and he said, ‘With whom?’ Quoth I, ‘With one of the handmaids of the Caliph’s palace;’ and quoth he, ‘Allah put them to shame! How long shall they seduce the folk? Knowest thou her name?’ Said I, ‘No;’ and said he, ‘Describe her to me.’ So I described her to him and he cried, ‘Out on it! This is the lutanist of the Caliph Al–Mutawakkil and his pet concubine. But she hath a Mameluke3 and do thou make friends with him; it may be he shall become the means of thy having access to her.’ Now as we were talking, behold, out walked the servant in question from the palace, as he were a moon on the fourteenth night; and, seeing that I had before me the clothes which the tailor had made me, and they were of brocade of all colours, he began to look at them and examine them. Then he came up to me and I rose and saluted him. He asked, ‘Who art thou?’ and I answered, ‘I am a man of the merchants.’ Quoth he, ‘Wilt thou sell these clothes?’; and quoth I, ‘Yes.’ So he chose out five of them and said to me, ‘How much these five?’ Said I, ‘They are a present to thee from me in earnest of friendship between me and thee.’ At this he rejoiced and I went home and fetching a suit embroidered with jewels and jacinths, worth three thousand dinars, returned therewith and gave it to him. He accepted it and carrying me into a room within the palace, said to me, ‘What is thy name among the merchants?’ Said I, ‘I am a man of them.’4 He continued, ‘Verily I misdoubt me of thine affair.’ I asked, ‘Why so?’ and he answered, ‘Because thou hast bestowed on me a costly gift and won my heart therewith, and I make certain that thou art Abu alHasan of Khorasan the Shroff.’ With this I fell aweeping, O Prince of True Believers; and he said to me, ‘Why dost thou weep? By Allah, she for whom thou weepest is yet more longingly in love with thee than thou with her! And indeed her case with thee is notorious among all the palace women. But what wouldst thou have?’ Quoth I, ‘I would have thee succour me in my calamity.’ So he appointed me for the morrow and I returned home. As soon as I rose next morning, I betook myself to him and waited in his chamber till he came in and said to me, ‘Know that yesternight when, after having made an end of her service by the Caliph, she returned to her apartment, I related to her all that had passed between me and thee and she is minded to foregather with thee. So stay with me till the end of the day.’ Accordingly I stayed with him till dark, when the Mameluke brought me a shirt of gold-inwoven stuff and a suit of the Caliph’s apparel and clothing me therein, incensed me5 and I became like the Commander of the Faithful. Then he brought me to a gallery with rows of rooms on either side and said to me, ‘These are the lodgings of the Chief of the slavegirls; and when thou passest along the gallery, do thou lay at each door a bean, for ’tis the custom of the Caliph to do this every night,’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. as if it were given away in charity.
2 Arab. “Shukkah,” a word much used in the Zanzibar trade where it means a piece of long-cloth one fathom long. See my “Lake Regions of Central Africa,” vol. i. 147, etc.
3 He is afterwards called in two places “Khádim”=eunuch.
4 A courteous way of saying, “Never mind my name: I wish to keep it hidden.” The formula is still popular.
5 Arab. “Bakhkharaní” i.e. fumigated me with burning aloes-wood, Calumba or similar material.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Mameluke said to Abu Hasan, “When thou passest along the gallery set down at each door a bean for ’tis the custom of the Caliph so to do, till thou come to the second passage on thy right hand, when thou wilt see a door with a marble threshold.1 Touch it with thy hand or, an thou wilt, count the doors which are so many, and enter the one whose marks are thus and thus. There thy mistress will see thee and take thee in with her. As for thy coming forth, verily Allah will make it easy to me, though I carry thee out in a chest.”—“Then he left me and returned, whilst I went on, counting the doors and laying at each a bean. When I had reached the middle of the gallery, I heard a great clatter and saw the light of flambeaux coming towards me. As the light drew near me, I looked at it and behold, the Caliph himself, came surrounded by the slave-girls carrying waxen lights, and I heard one of the women2 say to another, ‘O my sister, have we two Caliphs? Verily, the Caliph whose perfumes and essences I smelt, hath already passed by my room and he hath laid the bean at my door, as his wont; and now I see the light of his flambeaux, and here he cometh with them.’ Replied the other, ‘Indeed this is a wondrous thing, for disguise himself in the Caliph’s habit none would dare.’ Then the light drew near me, whilst I trembled in every limb; and up came an eunuch, crying out to the concubines and saying, ‘Hither!’ Whereupon they turned aside to one of the chambers and entered. Then they came out again and walked on till they came to the chamber of my mistress and I heard the Caliph say, ‘Whose chamber is this?’ They answered, ‘This is the chamber of Shajarat al-Durr.’ And he said, ‘Call her.’ So they called her and she came out and kissed the feet of the Caliph, who said to her, ‘Wilt thou drink to-night?’ Quoth she, ‘But for thy presence and the looking on thine auspicious countenance, I would not drink, for I incline not to wine this night.’ Then quoth the Commander of the Faithful to the eunuch, ‘Bid the treasurer give her such necklace;’ and he commanded to enter her chamber. So the waxen lights entered before him and he followed them into the apartment. At the same moment, behold, there came up a damsel, the lustre of whose face outshone that of the flambeau in her hand, and drawing near she said, ‘Who is this?’ Then she laid hold of me and carrying me into one of the chambers, said to me, ‘Who art thou?’ I kissed the ground before her saying, ‘I implore thee by Allah, O my lady, spare my blood and have ruth on me and commend thyself unto Allah by saving my life!’; and I wept for fear of death. Quoth she, ‘Doubtless, thou art a robber;’ and quoth I, ‘No, by Allah, I am no robber. Seest thou on me the signs of thieves?’ Said she, ‘Tell me the truth of thy case and I will put thee in safety.’ So I said, ‘I am a silly lover and an ignorant, whom passion and my folly have moved to do as thou seest, so that I am fallen into this slough of despond.’ Thereat cried she, ‘Abide here till I come back to thee;’ and going forth she presently returned with some of her handmaid’s clothes wherein she clad me and bade me follow her; so I followed her till she came to her apartment and commanded me to enter. I went in and she led me to a couch, whereon was a mighty fine carpet, and said, ‘Sit down here: no harm shall befal thee. Art thou not Abu al-Hasan Ali the Khorasani, the Shroff?’ I answered, ‘Yes,’ and she rejoined, ‘Allah spare thy blood given thou speak truth! An thou be a robber, thou art lost, more by token that thou art dressed in the Caliph’s habit and incensed with his scents. But, an thou be indeed Abu al-Hasan, thou art safe and no hurt shall happen to thee, for that thou art the friend of Shajarat al-Durr, who is my sister and ceaseth never to name thee and tell us how she took of thee money, yet wast thou not chagrined, and how thou didst follow her to the river bank and madest sign as thou wouldst kiss the earth in her honour; and her heart is yet more aflame for thee than is thine for her. But how camest thou hither? Was it by her order or without it? She hath indeed imperilled thy life3. But what seekest thou in this assignation with her?’ I replied, ‘By Allah, O my lady, ’tis I who have imperilled my own life, and my aim in foregathering with her is but to look on her and hear her pretty speech.’ She said, ‘Thou hast spoken well;’ and I added, ‘O my lady, Allah is my witness when I declare that my soul prompteth me to no offence against her honour.’ Cried she, ‘In this intent may Allah deliver thee! Indeed compassion for thee hath gotten hold upon my heart.’ Then she called her handmaid and said to her, ‘Go to Shajarat al-Durr and say to her, ‘Thy sister saluteth thee and biddeth thee to her; so favour her by coming to her this night, according to thy custom, for her breast is straitened.’ The slave-girl went out and presently returning, told her mistress that Shajarat al-Durr said, ‘May Allah bless me with thy long life and make me thy ransom! By Allah, hadst thou bidden me to other than this, I had not hesitated; but the Caliph’s migraine constraineth me and thou knowest my rank with him.’ But the other said to her damsel, ‘Return to her and say, ‘Needs must thou come to my mistress upon a private matter between thee and her!’ So the girl went out again and presently returned with the damsel, whose face shone like the full moon. Her sister met her and embraced her; then said she, ‘Ho, Abu al-Hasan, come forth to her and kiss her hands!’ Now I was in a closet within the apartment; so I walked out, O Commander of the Faithful, and when my mistress saw me, she threw herself upon me and strained me to her bosom saying, ‘How camest thou in the Caliph’s clothes and his ornaments and perfumes? Tell me what hath befallen thee.’ So I related to her all that had befallen me and what I had suffered for affright and so forth; and she said, ‘Grievous to me is what thou hast endured for my sake and praised be Allah who hath caused the issue to be safety, and the fulfilment of safety is in thy entering my lodging and that of my sister.’ Then she carried me to her own apartment, saying to her sister, ‘I have covenanted with him that I will not be united to him unlawfully; but, as he hath risked himself and incurred these perils, I will be earth for his treading and dust to his sandals!’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 In sign of honour. The threshold is important amongst Moslems: in one of the Mameluke Soldans’ sepulchres near Cairo I found a granite slab bearing the “cartouche” (shield) of Khufu (Cheops) with the four hieroglyphs hardly effaced.
2 i.e. One of the concubines by whose door he had passed.
3 Epistasis without the prostasis, “An she ordered thee so to do:” the situation justifies the rhetorical figure.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the damsel to her sister, “I have covenanted with him that I will not be united to him unlawfully; but, as he hath risked himself and incurred these perils, I will be earth for his treading and dust to his sandals!” Replied her sister, “In this intent may Allah deliver him!”—“and my mistress rejoined, ‘Soon shalt thou see how I will do, so I may lawfully foregather with him and there is no help but that I lavish my heart’s blood to devise this.’ Now as we were in talk, behold, we heard a great noise and turning, saw the Caliph making for her chamber, so engrossed was he by the thought of her; whereupon she took me, O Prince of True Believers and hid me in a souterrain1 and shut down the trap-door upon me. Then she went out to meet the Caliph, who entered and sat down, whilst she stood between his hands to serve him, and commanded to bring wine. Now the Caliph loved a damsel by name Banjah, who was the mother of Al–Mu’tazz bi ’llah2; but they had fallen out and parted; and in the pride of her beauty and loveliness she would not make peace with him, nor would Al–Mutawakkil, for the dignity of the Caliphate and the kingship, make peace with her neither humble himself to her, albeit his heart was aflame with passion for her, but sought to solace his mind from her with her mates among the slave-girls and with going in to them in their chambers. Now he loved Shajarat al-Durr’s singing: so he bade her sing, when she took the lute and tuning the strings sang these verses,
‘The world-tricks I admire betwixt me and her;
How, us parted, the World would to me incline:
I shunned thee till said they, ‘He knows not Love;’
I sought thee till said they, ‘No patience is mine!’
Then, O Love of her, add to my longing each night,
And, O Solace, thy comforts for Doomsday assign!
Soft as silk is her touch and her low sweet voice
Twixt o’er much and o’er little aye draweth the line:
And eyne whereof Allah said ‘Be ye!’ and they
Became to man’s wit like the working of wine.’
When the Caliph heard these verses, he was pleasured with exceeding pleasure, and I also, O Commander of the Faithful, was pleasured in my hiding-place, and but for the bounty of Almighty Allah, I had cried out and we had been disgraced. Then she sang also these couplets,
‘I embrace him, yet after him yearns my soul
For his love, but can aught than embrace be nigher?
I kiss his lips to assuage my lowe;
But each kiss gars it glow with more flaming fire;
‘Tis as though my vitals aye thirst unquencht
Till I see two souls mixt in one entire.’
The Caliph was delighted and said, ‘O Shajarat al-Durr, ask a boon of me.’ She replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I ask of thee my freedom, for the sake of the reward thou wilt obtain therein.’3 Quoth he, ‘Thou art free for the love of Allah;’ whereupon she kissed ground before him. He resumed, ‘Take the lute and sing me somewhat on the subject of my slave-girl, of whom I am enamoured with warmest love: the folk seek my pleasure and I seek hers.’ So she took the lute and sang these two couplets,
‘My charmer who spellest my piety4
On all accounts I’ll have thee, have thee,
Or by humble suit which besitteth Love
Or by force more fitting my sovranty.’
The Caliph admired these verses and said, ‘Now, take up thy lute and sing me a song setting out my case with three damsels who hold the reins of my heart and make rest depart; and they are thyself and that wilful one and another I will not name, who hath not her like.’5 So she took the lute and playing a lively measure, sang these couplets,
‘Three lovely girls hold my bridle-rein
And in highest stead my heart overreign.
I have none to obey amid all mankind
But obeying them I but win disdain:
This is done through the Kingship of Love, whereby
The best of my kingship they made their gain.’
The Caliph marvelled with exceeding marvel at the aptness of these verses to his case and his delight inclined him to reconciliation with the recalcitrant damsel. So he went forth and made for her chamber whither a slave-girl preceded him and announced to her the coming of the Caliph. She advanced to meet him and kissed the ground before him; then she kissed his feet and he was reconciled to her and she was reconciled to him. Such was the case with the Caliph; but as regards Shajarat al-Durr, she came to me rejoicing and said, ‘I am become a free woman by thy blessed coming! Surely Allah will help me in that which I shall contrive, so I may foregather with thee in lawful way.’ And I said, ‘Alhamdolillah!’ Now as we were talking, behold her Mameluke-eunuch entered and we related to him that which had passed, when he said, ‘Praised be Allah who hath made the affair to end well, and we implore the Almighty to crown His favours with thy safe faring forth the palace!’ Presently appeared my mistress’s sister, whose name was Fátir, and Shajarat al-Durr said to her, ‘O my sister, how shall we do to bring him out of the palace in safety; for indeed Allah hath vouchsafed me manumission and, by the blessing of his coming, I am become a free woman.’ Quoth Fatir, ‘I see nothing for it but to dress him in woman’s gear.’ So she brought me a suit of women’s clothes and clad me therein; and I went out forthwith, O Commander of the Faithful; but, when I came to the midst of the palace, behold, I found the Caliph seated there, with the eunuchs in attendance upon him. When he saw me, he misdoubted of me with exceeding doubt, and said to his suite, ‘Hasten and bring me yonder handmaiden who is faring forth.’ So they brought me back to him and raised the veil from my face, which when he saw, he knew me and questioned me of my case. I told him the whole truth, hiding naught, and when he heard my story, he pondered my case awhile, without stay or delay, and going into Shajarat al-Durr’s chamber, said to her, ‘How couldst thou prefer before me one of the sons of the merchants?’ She kissed ground between his hands and told him her tale from first to last, in accordance with the truth; and he hearing it had compassion upon her and his heart relented to her and he excused her by reason of love and its circumstances. Then he went away and her eunuch came in to her and said, ‘Be of good cheer; for, when thy lover was set before the Caliph, he questioned him and he told him that which thou toldest him, word by word.’ Presently the Caliph returned and calling me before him, said to me, ‘What made thee dare to violate the palace of the Caliphate?’ I replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, ’twas my ignorance and passion and my confidence in thy clemency and generosity that drave me to this.’ And I wept and kissed the ground before him. Then said he, ‘I pardon you both,’ and bade me be seated. So I sat down and he sent for the Kazi Ahmad ibn Abi Duwád6 and married me to her. Then he commanded to make over all that was hers to me and they displayed her to me7 in her lodging. After three days, I went forth and transported all her goods and gear to my own house; so every thing thou hast seen, O Commander of the Faithful, in my house and whereof thou misdoubtest, is of her marriage-equipage. After this, she said to me one day, ‘Know that Al–Mutawakkil is a generous man and I fear lest he remember us with ill mind, or that some one of the envious remind him of us; wherefore I purpose to do somewhat that may ensure us against this.’ Quoth I, ‘And what is that?;’ and quoth she, ‘I mean to ask his leave to go the pilgrimage and repent8 of singing.’ I replied, ‘Right is this rede thou redest;’ but, as we were talking, behold, in came a messenger from the Caliph to seek her, for that Al–Mutawakkil loved her singing. So she went with the officer and did her service to the Caliph, who said to her, ‘Sever not thyself from us;’9 and she answered ‘I hear and I obey.’ Now it chanced one day, after this, she went to him, he having sent for her, as was his wont; but, before I knew, she came back, with her raiment rent and her eyes full of tears. At this I was alarmed, misdoubting me that he had commanded to seize upon us, and said, ‘Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him shall we return! Is Al–Mutawakkil wroth with us?’ She replied, ‘Where is Al–Mutawakkil? Indeed Al–Mutawakkil’s rule is ended and his trace is blotted out!’ Cried I, ‘Tell me what has happened:’ and she, ‘He was seated behind the curtain, drinking, with Al–Fath bin Khákán10 and Sadakah bin Sadakah, when his son Al–Muntasir fell upon him, with a company of the Turks,11 and slew him; and merriment was turned to misery and joy to weeping and wailing for annoy. So I fled, I and the slave-girl, and Allah saved us.’ When I heard this, O Commander of the Faithful, I arose forthright and went down stream to Bassorah, where the news reached me of the falling out of war between Al–Muntasir and Al–Musta’ín bi ’llah;12 wherefore I was affrighted and transported my wife and all my wealth to Bassorah. This, then, is my tale, O Prince of True Believers, nor have I added to or taken from it a single syllable. So all that thou seest in my house, bearing the name of thy grandfather Al–Mutawakkil, is of his bounty to us, and the fount of our fortune is from thy noble sources;13 for indeed ye are people of munificence and a mine of beneficence.” The Caliph marvelled at his story and rejoiced therein with joy exceeding: and Abu al-Hasan brought forth to him the lady and the children she had borne him, and they kissed ground before the Caliph, who wondered at their beauty. Then he called for inkcase and paper and wrote Abu al-Hasan a patent of exemption from taxes on his lands and houses for twenty years. Moreover, he rejoiced in him and made him his cup-companion, till the world parted them and they took up their abode in the tombs, after having dwelt under the palace-domes; and glory be to Allah, the King Merciful of doom. And they also tell a tale concerning
1 Arab. “Sardáb” see vol. i, 340.
2 Thirteenth Abbaside A.H. 252–255 (=866–869). His mother was a Greek slave called Kabíhah (Al–Mas’udi and Al–Siyuti); for which “Banjah” is probably a clerical error. He was exceedingly beautiful and was the first to ride out with ornaments of gold. But he was impotent in the hands of the Turks who caused the mob to depose him and kill him — his death being related in various ways.
3 i.e. The reward from Allah for thy good deed.
4 Arab. “Nusk” abstinence from women, a part of the Zahid’s asceticism.
5 Arab. “Munázirah” the verbal noun of which, “Munázarah,” may also mean “dispute.” The student will distinguish between “Munazarah” and Munafarah=a contention for precedence in presence of an umpire.
6 The Mac. Edit. gives by mistake “Abú Dáúd”: the Bul. correctly “Abú Duwád,” He was Kázi al-Kuzát (High Chancellor) under Al–Mu’tasim, Al–Wasik bi’llah (Vathek) and Al–Mutawakkil.
7 Arab. “Zaffú”=they led the bride to the bridegroom’s house; but here used in the sense of displaying her as both were in the palace.
8 i.e. renounce the craft which though not sinful (harám) is makrúh or religiously unpraiseworthy; Mohammed having objected to music and indeed to the arts in general.
9 Arab. “Lá tankati’í;” do not be too often absent from us. I have noticed the whimsical resemblance of “Kat’” and our “cut”; and here the metaphorical sense is almost identical.
10 See Ibn Khallikan ii. 455.
11 The Turkish body-guard. See vol. iii. 81.
12 Twelfth Abbaside (A.H. 248–252=862–866) the son of a slave-concubine Mukhárik. He was virtuous and accomplished, comely, fair-skinned, pock-marked and famed for defective pronunciation; and he first set the fashion of shortening men’s capes and widening the sleeves. After may troubles with the Turks, who were now the Prætorian guard of Baghdad, he was murdered at the instigation of Al–Mu’ tazz, who succeeded him, by his Chamberlain Sa’id bin Salíh.
13 Arab. “Usúl,” his forbears, his ancestors.
There was once, in time of old, a merchant hight Abd al-Rahmán, whom Allah had blessed with a son and daughter, and for their much beauty and loveliness, he named the girl Kaubab al-Sabáh and the boy Kamar al-Zamán.2 When he saw what Allah had vouchsafed the twain of beauty and loveliness, brilliancy and symmetry, he feared for them the evil eyes3 of the espiers and the jibing tongues of the jealous and the craft of the crafty and the wiles of the wicked and shut them up from the folk in a mansion for the space of fourteen years, during which time none saw them save their parents and a slave-girl who served them. Now their father could recite the Koran, even as Allah sent it down, as also did his wife, wherefore the mother taught her daughter to read and recite it and the father his son till both had gotten it by heart. Moreover, the twain learned from their parents writing and reckoning and all manner of knowledge and polite letters and needed no master. When Kamar al-Zaman came to years of manhood, the wife said to her husband, “How long wilt thou keep thy son Kamar al-Zaman sequestered from the eyes of the folk? Is he a girl or a boy?” He answered, “A boy.” Rejoined she, “An he be a boy, why dost thou not carry him to the bazar and seat him in thy shop, that he may know the folk and they know him, to the intent that it may become notorious among men that he is thy son, and do thou teach him to sell and to buy. Peradventure somewhat may befal thee; so shall the folk know him for thy son and he shall lay his hand on thy leavings. But, an thou die, as the case now is, and he say to the folk, ‘I am the son of the merchant Abd al-Rahman,’ verily they will not believe him, but will cry, ‘We have never seen thee and we knew not that he had a son,’ wherefore the government will seize thy goods and thy son will be despoiled. In like manner the girl; I mean to make her known among the folk, so may be some one of her own condition may ask her in marriage and we will wed her to him and rejoice in her.” Quoth he, “I did thus of my fear for them from the eyes of the folk,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Lane rejects this tale because it is “extremely objectionable; far more so than the title might lead me to expect.” But he quotes the following marginal note by his Shaykh:—“Many persons (women) reckon marrying a second time amongst the most disgraceful of actions. This opinion is commonest in the country-towns and villages; and my mother’s relations are thus distinguished; so that a woman of them, when her husband dieth or divorceth her while she is young, passeth in widowhood her life, however long it may be, and disdaineth to marry a second time.” I fear that this state of things belongs to the good old days now utterly gone by; and the loose rule of the stranger, especially the English, in Egypt will renew the scenes which characterised Sind when Sir Charles Napier hanged every husband who cut down an adulterous wife. I have elsewhere noticed the ignorant idea that Moslems deny to women souls and seats in Paradise, whilst Mohammed canonised two women in his own family. The theory arose with the “Fathers” of the Christian Church who simply exaggerated the misogyny of St. Paul. St. Ambrose commenting on Corinthians i. ii., boldly says:—“Feminas ad imaginem Dei factas non esse.” St. Thomas Aquinas and his school adopted the Aristotelian view, “Mulier est erratum naturae, et mas occasionatus, et per accidens generatur; atque ideo est monstrum.” For other instances see Bayle s. v. Gediacus (Revd. Simon of Brandebourg) who in 1695 published a “Defensio Sexus muliebris,” a refutation of an anti-Socinian satire or squib, “Disputatio perjucunda, Mulieres homines non esse,” Parisiis, 1693. But when Islam arose in the seventh century, the Christian learned cleverly affixed the stigma of their own misogyny upon the Moslems ad captandas foeminas and in Southern Europe the calumny still bears fruit. Mohammed (Koran, chapt. xxiv.) commands for the first time, in the sixth year of his mission, the veiling and, by inference, the seclusion of women, which was apparently unknown to the Badawin and, if practised in the cities was probably of the laxest. Nor can one but confess that such modified separation of the sexes, which it would be impossible to introduce into European manners, has great and notable advantages. It promotes the freest intercourse between man and man, and thus civilises what we call the “lower orders”: in no Moslem land, from Morocco to China, do we find the brutals without manners or morals which are bred by European and especially by English civilisation. For the same reason it enables women to enjoy fullest intimacy and friendship with one another, and we know that the best of both sexes are those who prefer the society of their own as opposed to “quite the lady’s man” and “quite the gentleman’s woman.” It also adds an important item to social decorum by abolishing e.g. such indecencies as the “ball-room flirtation”— a word which must be borrowed from us, not translated by foreigners. And especially it gives to religious meetings, a tone which the presence of women modifies and not for the better. Perhaps, the best form is that semiseclusion of the sex, which prevailed in the heroic ages of Greece, Rome, and India (before the Moslem invasion), and which is perpetuated in Christian Armenia and in modern Hellas. It is a something between the conventual strictness of Al–Islam and the liberty, or rather licence, of the “Anglo–Saxon” and the “Anglo–American.” And when England shall have cast off that peculiar insularity which makes her differ from all civilised peoples, she will probably abolish three gross abuses, time-honoured scandals, which bear very heavily on women and children. The first is the Briton’s right to will property away from his wife and offspring. The second is the action for “breach of promise,” salving the broken heart with pounds, shillings, and pence: it should be treated simply as an exaggerated breach of contract. The third is the procedure popularly called “Crim. Con.,” and this is the most scandalous of all: the offence is against the rights of property, like robbery or burglary, and it ought to be treated criminally with fine, imprisonment and in cases with corporal punishment after the sensible procedure of Moslem law.
2 “Moon of the age,” a name which has before occurred.
3 The Malocchio or gettatura, so often noticed.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Merchant’s wife spake to him in such wise, he replied, “I did thus of my fear for them from the eyes of the folk and because I love them both and love is jealous exceedingly and well saith he who spoke these verses,
‘Of my sight I am jealous for thee, of me,
Of thyself, of thy stead, of thy destiny:
Though I shrined thee in eyes by the craze of me
In such nearness irk I should never see:
Though thou wert by my side all the days of me
Till Doomsday I ne’er had enough of thee.’”
Said his wife, “Put thy trust in Allah, for no harm betideth him whom He protecteth, and carry him with thee this very day to the shop.” Then she clad the boy in the costliest clothes and he became a seduction to all who on him cast sight and an affliction to the heart of each lover wight. His father took him and carried him to the market, whilst all who saw him were ravished with him and accosted him, kissing his hand and saluting him with the salam. Quoth one, “Indeed the sun hath risen in such a place and blazeth in the bazar,” and another, “The rising-place of the full moon is in such a quarter;” and a third, “The new moon of the Festival1 hath appeared to the creatures of Allah.” And they went on to allude to the boy in talk and call down blessings upon him. But his father scolded the folk for following his son to gaze upon him, because he was abashed at their talk, but he could not hinder one of them from talking; so he fell to abusing the boy’s mother and cursing her because she had been the cause of his bringing him out. And as he gazed about he still saw the folk crowding upon him behind and before. Then he walked on till he reached his shop and opening it, sat down and seated his son before him: after which he again looked out and found the thoroughfare blocked with people for all the passers-by, going and coming, stopped before the shop to stare at that beautiful face and could not leave him; and all the men and women crowded in knots about him, applying to themselves the words of him who said,
“Thou madest Beauty to spoil man’s sprite
And saidst, ‘O my servants, fear My reprove:’
But lovely Thou lovest all loveliness
How, then, shall thy servants refrain from Love?”
When the merchant Abd al-Rahman saw the folk thus crowding about him and standing in rows, both women and men, to fix eyes upon his son, he was sore ashamed and confounded and knew not what to do; but presently there came up from the end of the bazar a man of the wandering Dervishes, clad in haircloth, the garb of the pious servants of Allah and seeing Kamar al-Zaman sitting there as he were a branch of Bán springing from a mound of saffron, poured forth copious tears and recited these two couplets,
“A wand uprising from a sandy knoll,
Like full moon shining brightest sheen, I saw;
And said, ‘What is thy name?’ Replied he ‘Lúlú’
‘What’ (asked I) ‘Lily?’ and he answered ‘Lá, lá!’”2
Then the Dervish fell to walking, now drawing near and now moving away,3 and wiping his gray hairs with his right hand, whilst the heart of the crowd was cloven asunder for awe of him. When he looked upon the boy, his eyes were dazzled and his wit confounded, and exemplified in him was the saying of the poet,
“While that fair-faced boy abode in the place,
Moon of breakfast-fête he lit by his face,4
Lo! there came a Shaykh with leisurely pace
A reverend trusting to Allah’s grace,
And ascetic signals his gait display’d.
He had studied Love both by day and night
And had special knowledge of Wrong and Right;
Both for lad and lass had repined his sprite,
And his form like toothpick was lean and slight,
And old bones with faded skin were o’erlaid.
In such arts our Shaykh was an Ajamí5
With a catamite ever in company;
In the love of woman, a Platonist he6
But in either versed to the full degree,
And Zaynab to him was the same as Zayd.7
Distraught by the Fair he adored the Fair
O’er Spring-camp wailed, bewept ruins bare.8
Dry branch thou hadst deemed him for stress o’ care,
Which the morning breeze swayeth here and there,
For only the stone is all hardness made!
In the lore of Love he was wondrous wise
And wide awake with all-seeing eyes.
Its rough and its smooth he had tried and tries
And hugged buck and doe in the self-same guise
And with greybeard and beardless alike he play’d.”9
Then he came up to the boy and gave him a root10 of sweet basil, whereupon his father put forth his hand to his pouch and brought out for him some small matter of silver, saying, “Take thy portion, O Dervish, and wend thy ways.” He took the dirhams, but sat down on the masonry-bench alongside the shop and opposite the boy and fell to gazing upon him and heaving sigh upon sigh, whilst his tears flowed like springs founting. The folk began to look at him and remark upon him, some saying, “All Dervishes are lewd fellows,” and other some, “Verily, this Dervish’s heart is set on fire for love of this lad.” Now when Abd al-Rahman saw this case, he arose and said to the boy, “Come, O my son, let us lock up the shop and hie us home, for it booteth not to sell and buy this day; and may Almighty Allah requite thy mother that which she hath done with us, for she was the cause of all this!” Then said he, “O Dervish, rise, that I may shut my shop.” So the Dervish rose and the merchant shut his shop and taking his son, walked away. The Dervish and the folk followed them, till they reached their place, when the boy went in and his father, turning to the Dervish, said to him, “What wouldst thou, O Dervish, and why do I see thee weep?” He replied, “O my lord, I would fain be thy guest this night, for the guest is the guest of Almighty Allah.” Quoth the merchant, “Welcome to the guest of God: enter, O Dervish!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The crescent of the month Zu ‘l-Ka’dah when the Ramazan-fast is broken. This allusion is common. Comp. vol. i. 84.
2 This line contains one of the Yes, Yes and No, No trifles alluded to in vol. ii, 60. Captain Lockett (M. A. 103) renders it “I saw a fawn upon a hillock whose beauty eclipsed the full moon. I said, What is thy name? she answered Deer. What my Dear said I, but she replied, no, no!” To preserve the sound I have sacrificed sense: Lulu is a pearl, Li? li? (= for me, for me?) and La! La! = no! no! See vol. i, 217. I should have explained a line which has puzzled some readers,
“A sun (face) on wand (neck) in knoll of sand (hips) she showed” etc,
3 Arab. “Al-huwayna,” a rare term.
4 Bright in the eyes of the famishing who is allowed to break his fast.
5 Mr. Payne reads “Maghrabi” = a Mauritanian, Maroccan, the Moors (not the Moorish Jews or Arabs) being a race of Sodomites from highest to lowest. But the Mac. and Bul. Edit. have “Ajami.”
6 For “Ishk uzri” = platonic love see vol. i. 232; ii. 104.
7 Zaynab (Zenobia) and Zayd are generic names for women and men.
8 i.e. He wrote “Kasidahs” (= odes, elegies) after the fashion of the “Suspended Poems” which mostly open with the lover gazing upon the traces of the camp where his beloved had dwelt. The exaggerated conventionalism of such exordium shows that these early poems had been preceded by a host of earlier pieces which had been adopted as canons of poetry.
9 The verses are very mal-a-propos, like many occurring in The Nights, for the maligned Shaykh is proof against all the seductions of the pretty boy and falls in love with a woman after the fashion of Don Quixote. Mr. Payne complains of the obscurity of the original owing to abuse of the figure enallage; but I find them explicit enough, referring to some debauched elder after the type of Abu Nowas.
10 Arab. “‘Irk” = a root which must here mean a sprig, a twig. The basil grows to a comparatively large size in the East.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the merchant, the father of Kamar al-Zaman, heard the saying of the Dervish, “I am Allah’s guest,” he replied, “Welcome to the guest of God: enter, O Dervish!” But he said to himself, “An the beggar be enamoured of the boy and sue him for sin, needs must I slay him this very night and bury him secretly. But, an there be no lewdness in him, the guest shall eat his portion.” Then he brought him into a saloon, where he left him with Kamar al-Zaman, after he had said privily to the lad, “O my son, sit thou beside the Dervish when I am gone out and sport with him and provoke him to love-liesse and if he seek of thee lewdness, I who will be watching you from the window overlooking the saloon will come down to him and kill him.” So, as soon as Kamar al-Zaman was alone in the room with the Dervish, he sat down by his side and the old man began to look upon him and sigh and weep. Whenever the lad bespake him, he answered him kindly, trembling the while and would turn to him groaning and crying, and thus he did till supper was brought in, when he fell to eating, with his eyes on the boy but refrained not from shedding tears. When a fourth part of the night was past and talk was ended and sleep-tide came, Abd al-Rahman said to the lad, “O my son, apply thyself to the service of thine uncle the Dervish and gainsay him not:” and would have gone out; but the Dervish cried to him, “O my lord, carry thy son with thee or sleep with us.” Answered the merchant, “Nay, my son shall lie with thee: haply thy soul may desire somewhat, and he will look to thy want and wait upon thee.” Then he went out leaving them both together, and sat down in an adjoining room which had a window giving upon the saloon. Such was the case with the merchant; but as to the lad, as soon as his sire had left them, he came up to the Dervish and began to provoke him and offer himself to him, whereupon he waxed wroth and said, “What talk is this, O my son? I take refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned! O my Lord, indeed this is a denial of Thee which pleaseth Thee not! Avaunt from me, O my son!” So saying, the Dervish arose and sat down at a distance; but the boy followed him and threw himself upon him, saying, “Why, O Dervish, wilt thou deny thyself the joys of my possession, and I with a heart that loveth thee?” Hereupon the Dervish’s anger redoubled and he said, “An thou refrain not from me, I will summon thy sire and tell him of thy doings.” Quoth the lad, “My father knoweth my turn for this and it may not be that he will hinder me: so heal thou my heart. Why dost thou hold off from me? Do I not please thee?” Answered the Dervish, “By Allah, O my son, I will not do this, though I be hewn in pieces with sharp-edged swords!”; and he repeated the saying of the poet,
“Indeed my heart loves all the lovely boys
As girls; nor am I slow to such delight,
But, though I sight them every night and morn,
I’m neither of Lot’s folk1 nor wencher-wight.”
Then he shed tears and said, “Arise, open the door, that I may wend my way, for I will lie no longer in this lodging.” Therewith he rose to his feet; but the boy caught hold of him, saying, “Look at the fairness of my face and the cramoisy of my cheeks and the softness of my sides and the lusciousness of my lips.” Moreover he discovered to him calves that would shame wine and cupcarrier2 and gazed on him with fixed glance that would baffle enchanter and enchantments; for he was passing of loveliness and full of blandishment, even as saith of him one of the poets who sang,
“I can’t forget him, since he rose and showed with fair design
Those calves of legs whose pearly shine make light in nightly gloom:
Wonder not an my flesh uprise as though ’twere Judgment-day
When every shank shall bared be and that is Day of
Doom.”3
Then the boy displayed to him his bosom, saying, “Look at my breasts which be goodlier than the breasts of maidens and my lip-dews are sweeter than sugar-candy. So quit scruple and asceticism and cast off devoutness and abstinence and take thy fill of my possession and enjoy my loveliness. Fear naught, for thou art safe from hurt, and leave this hebetude for ’tis a bad habit.” And he went on to discover to him his hidden beauties, striving to turn the reins of his reason with his bendings in graceful guise, whilst the Dervish turned away his face and said, “I seek refuge with Allah! Have some shame, O my son!4 This is a forbidden thing I deem and I will not do it, no, not even in dream.” The boy pressed upon him, but the Dervish got free from him and turning towards Meccah addressed himself to his devotions. Now when the boy saw him praying, he left him till he had prayed a two-bow prayer and saluted,5 when he would have accosted him again; but the Dervish again repeated the intent6 and prayed a second two-bow prayer, and thus he did a third and a fourth and a fifth time. Quoth the lad, “What prayers are these? Art thou minded to take flight upon the clouds? Thou lettest slip our delight, whilst thou passest the whole night in the prayer-niche.” So saying, he threw himself upon the Dervish and kissed him between the eyes; but the Shaykh said, “O my son, put Satan away from thine estate and take upon thee obedience of the Compassionate.” Quoth the other, “An thou do not with me that which I desire, I will call my sire and say to him, The Dervish is minded to do lewdness with me. Whereupon he will come in to thee and beat thee till thy bones be broken upon thy flesh.” All this while Abd al-Rahman was watching with his eyes and hearkening with his ears, and he was certified that there was no frowardness in the Dervish and he said to himself, “Were he a lewd fellow, he had not stood out against all this importunity.” The boy continued to beguile the Dervish and every time he expressed purpose of prayer, he interrupted him, till at last he waxed wroth with passing wrath and was rough with him and beat him. Kamar al-Zaman wept and his father came in and having wiped away his tears and comforted him said to the Dervish, “O my brother, since thou art in such case, why didst thou weep and sigh when thou sawest my son? Say me, is there a reason for this?” He replied, “There is;” and Abd al-Rahman pursued, “When I saw thee weep at his sight, I deemed evil of thee and bade the boy do with thee thus, that I might try thee, purposing in myself, if I saw thee sue him for sin, to come in upon thee and kill thee. But, when I saw what thou didst, I knew thee for one of those who are virtuous to the end. Now Allah upon thee, tell me the cause of thy weeping!” The Dervish sighed and said, “O my lord, chafe not a closed7 wound.” But the merchant said, “There is no help but thou tell me;” and the other began, “Know thou that I am a Dervish who wander in the lands and the countries, and take warning by the display8 of the Creator of Night and Day. It chanced that one Friday I entered the city of Bassorah in the undurn.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Lait “= one connected with the tribe of Lot, see vol. v. 161.
2 For the play upon “Saki” (oblique case of sak, leg-calf) and Saki a cupbearer see vol. ii. 327.
3 “On a certain day the leg shall be bared and men shall be called upon to bow in adoration, but they shall not be able” (Koran, lxviii. 42). “Baring the leg” implies a grievous calamity, probably borrowed from the notion of tucking up the skirts and stripping for flight. On the dangerous San Francisco River one of the rapids is called “Tira-calcoens” = take off your trousers (Highlands of the Brazil, ii. 35). But here the allusion is simply ludicrous and to a Moslem blasphemous.
4 Arab. “Istahi,” a word of every day use in reproof. So the Hindost. “Kuchh sharm nahin?” hast thou no shame? Shame is a passion with Orientals and very little known to the West.
5 i.e. Angels and men saying, “The Peace (of God) be on us and on all righteous servants of Allah!” This ends every prayer.
6 Arab. “Al–Niyah,” the ceremonial purpose or intent to pray, without which prayer is null and void. See vol. v. 163. The words would be “I purpose to pray a two-bow prayer in this hour of deadly danger to my soul.” Concerning such prayer see vol. i. 142.
7 Arab. “Sakin” = quiescent, Let a sleeping hound lie.
8 Arab. “Asar” lit. traces i.e. the works, the mighty signs and marvels.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Dervish said to the merchant, “Know, then, that I a wandering mendicant chanced one Friday to enter the city of Bassorah in the undurn and saw the shops open and full of all manner of wares and meat and drink; but the place was deserted and therein was neither man nor woman nor girl nor boy: nor in the markets and the main streets was there dog or cat nor sounded sound nor friend was found. I marvelled at this end and said to myself, ‘I wonder whither the people of the city be gone with their cats and dogs and what hath Allah done with them?’ Now I was anhungred so I took hot bread from a baker’s oven and going into the shop of an oilman, spread the bread with clarified butter and honey and ate. Then I entered the shop of a sherbet-seller and drank what I would; after which, seeing a coffee-shop open, I went in and found the pots on the fire, full of coffee;1 but there was no one there. So I drank my fill and said, ‘Verily, this is a wondrous thing! It seemeth as though Death had stricken the people of this city and they had all died this very hour, or as if they had taken fright at something which befel them and fled, without having time to shut their shops.’ Now whilst pondering this matter, lo! I heard a sound of a band of drums beating; whereat I was afraid and hid myself for a while: then, looking out through a crevice, I saw damsels, like moons, come walking through the market, two by two, with uncovered heads and faces displayed. They were in forty pairs, thus numbering fourscore and in their midst a young lady, riding on a horse that could hardly move his legs for that which was upon it of silvern trappings and golden and jewelled housings. Her face was wholly unveiled, and she was adorned with the costliest ornaments and clad in the richest of raiment and about her neck she wore a collar of gems and on her bosom were necklaces of gold; her wrists were clasped with bracelets which sparkled like stars, and her ankles with bangles of gold set with precious stones. The slave-girls walked before her and behind and on her right and left and in front of her was a damsel bearing in baldric a great sword, with grip of emerald and tassels of jewel-encrusted gold. When that young lady came to where I lay hid, she pulled up her horse and said, ‘O damsels, I hear a noise of somewhat within yonder shop: so do ye search it, lest haply there be one hidden there, with intent to enjoy a look at us, whilst we have our faces unveiled.’ So they searched the shop opposite the coffee-house2 wherein I lay hid, whilst I abode in terror; and presently I saw them come forth with a man and they said to her, ‘O our lady, we found a man there and here he is before thee.’ Quoth she to the damsel with the sword, ‘Smite his neck.’ So she went up to him and struck off his head; then, leaving the dead man lying on the ground, they passed on. When I saw this, I was affrighted; but my heart was taken with love of the young lady. After an hour or so, the people reappeared and every one who had a shop entered it; whilst the folk began to come and go about the bazars and gathered around the slain man, staring at him as a curiosity. Then I crept forth from my hiding place by stealth, and none took note of me, but love of that lady had gotten possession of my heart, and I began to enquire of her privily. None, however, gave me news of her; so I left Bassorah, with vitals yearning for her love; and when I came upon this thy son, I saw him to be the likest of all creatures to the young lady; wherefore he reminded me of her and his sight revived the fire of passion in me and kindled anew in my heart the flames of love-longing and distraction. And such is the cause of my shedding tears!” Then he wept with sore weeping till he could no more and said, “O my lord, I conjure thee by Allah, open the door to me, so I may gang my gait!” Accordingly Abd al-Rahman opened the door and he went forth. Thus fared it with him; but as regards Kamar al-Zaman, when he heard the Dervish’s story, his heart was taken with love of the lady and passion gat the mastery of him and raged in him longing and distraction; so, on the morrow, he said to his sire, “All the sons of the merchants wander about the world to attain their desire, nor is there one of them but his father provideth for him a stock-in-trade wherewithal he may travel and traffic for gain. Why, then, O my father, dost thou not outfit me with merchandise, so I may fare with it and find my luck?” He replied, “O my son, such merchants lack money; so they send their sons to foreign parts for the sake of profit and pecuniary gain and provision of the goods of the world. But I have monies in plenty nor do I covet more: why then should I exile thee? Indeed, I cannot brook to be parted from thee an hour, more especially as thou art unique in beauty and loveliness and perfect grace and I fear for thee.” But Kamar al-Zaman said, “O my father, nothing will serve but thou must furnish me with merchandise wherewithal to travel; else will I fly from thee at unawares though without money or merchandise. So, an thou wish to solace my heart, make ready for me a stock-in-trade, that I may travel and amuse myself by viewing the countries of men.” Abd al-Rahman, seeing his son enamoured of travel, acquainted his wife with this, saying, “Verily thy son would have me provide him with goods, so he may fare therewith to far regions, albeit Travel is Travail.”3 Quoth she, “What is there to displease thee in this? Such is the wont of the sons of the merchants and they all vie one with other in glorifying globe-trotting and gain.” Quoth he, “Most of the merchants are poor and seek growth of good; but I have wealth galore.” She replied, “More of a good thing hurteth not; and, if thou comply not with his wish, I will furnish him with goods of my own monies.” Quoth Abd al-Rahman, “I fear strangerhood for him, inasmuch as travel is the worst of trouble;” but she said, “There is no harm in strangerhood for him when it leadeth to gaining good; and, if we consent not, our son will go away and we shall seek him and not find him and be dishonoured among the folk.” The merchant accepted his wife’s counsel and provided his son with merchandise to the value of ninety thousand gold pieces, whilst his mother gave him a purse containing forty bezel-stones, jewels of price, the least of the value of one of which was five hundred ducats, saying, “O my son, be careful of this jewellery for ’twill be of service to thee.” Thereupon Kamar al-Zaman took the jewels and set out for Bassorah — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 The mention of coffee now frequently occurs in this tale and in that which follows: the familiar use of it showing a comparatively late date, and not suggesting the copyist’s hand.
2 Arab. “Al–Kahwah,” the place being called from its produce. See Pilgrimage i. 317–18.
3 Arab. “Al–Ghurbah Kurbah:” the translation in the text is taken from my late friend Edward Eastwick, translator of the Gulistan and author of a host of works which show him to have been a ripe Oriental scholar.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-Zaman took the jewels and set out for Bassorah after he had laid them in a belt, which he buckled about his waist; and he stayed not till there remained aught but a day’s journey between that city and himself; when the Arabs came out upon him and stripped him naked and slew his men and servants; but he laid himself down among the slain and wallowed in their blood, so that the wildlings took him for dead and left him without even turning him over and made off with their booty. When the Arabs had gone their ways, Kamar al-Zaman arose, having naught left but the jewels in his girdle, and fared on nor ceased faring till he came to Bassorah. It chanced that his entry was on a Friday and the town was void of folk, even as the Dervish had informed him. He found the market-streets deserted and the shops wide open and full of goods; so he ate and drank and looked about him. Presently, he heard a band of drums beating and hid himself in a shop, till the slave-girls came up, when he looked at them; and, seeing the young lady riding amongst them, love and longing overcame him and desire and distraction overpowered him, so that he had no force to stand. After awhile, the people reappeared and the bazars filled. Whereupon he went to the market and repairing to a jeweller and pulling out one of his forty gems sold it for a thousand dinars, wherewith he returned to his place and passed the night there; and when morning morrowed he changed his clothes and going to the Hamman came forth as he were the full moon. Then he sold other four stones for four thousand dinars and sauntered solacing himself about the main streets of Bassorah, clad in the costliest of clothes; till he came to a market, where he saw a barber’s shop. So he went in to the barber who shaved his head; and, clapping up an acquaintance with him, said to him, “O my father, I am a stranger in these parts and yesterday I entered this city and found it void of folk, nor was there in it any living soul, man nor Jinni. Then I saw a troop of slave-girls and amongst them a young lady riding in state:” and he went on to tell him all he had seen. Said the barber, “O my son, hast thou told any but me of this?”; and he said, “No.” The other rejoined, “Then, O my son, beware thou mention this before any but me; for all folk cannot keep a secret and thou art but a little lad and I fear lest the talk travel from man to man, till it reach those whom it concerneth and they slay thee. For know, O my son, that this thou hast seen, none ever kenned nor knew in other than this city. As for the people of Bassorah they are dying of this annoy; for every Friday forenoon they shut up the dogs and cats, to hinder them from going about the market-streets, and all the people of the city enter the cathedral-mosques, where they lock the doors on them1 and not one of them can pass about the bazar nor even look out of casement; nor knoweth any the cause of this calamity. But, O my son, to-night I will question my wife concerning the reason thereof, for she is a midwife and entereth the houses of the notables and knoweth all the city news. So Inshallah, do thou come to me to-morrow and I will tell thee what she shall have told me.” With this Kamar al-Zaman pulled out a handful of gold and said to him, “O my father, take this gold and give it to thy wife, for she is become my mother.” Then he gave him a second handful, saying, “Take this for thyself.” Whereupon quoth the barber, “O my son, sit thou in thy place, till I go to my wife and ask her and bring the news of the true state of the case.” So saying, he left him in the shop and going home, acquainted his wife with the young man’s case, saying, “I would have thee tell me the truth of this city-business, so I may report it to this young merchant, for he hath set his heart on weeting the reason why men and beasts are forbidden the market-streets every Friday forenoon; and methinks he is a lover, for he is openhanded and liberal, and if we tell him what he would trow, we shall get great good of him.” Quoth she, “Go back and say to him, ‘Come, speak with thy mother, my wife, who sendeth her salam to thee and saith to thee, Thy wish is won.’” Accordingly he returned to the shop, where he found Kamar al-Zaman sitting awaiting him and repeated him the very words spoken by his spouse. Then he carried him in to her and she welcomed him and bade him sit down; whereupon he pulled out an hundred ducats and gave them to her, saying, “O my mother, tell me who this young lady may be.” Said she, “Know, O my son, that there came a gem to the Sultan of Bassorah from the King of Hind, and he was minded to have it pierced. So he summoned all the jewellers in a body and said to them, ‘I wish you to drill me this jewel. Whoso pierceth it, I will give him whatsoever he shall ask; but if he break it, I will cut off his head.’ At this they were afraid and said, ‘O King of the age, a jewel is soon spoilt and there are few who can pierce them without injury, for most of them have a flaw. So do not thou impose upon us a task to which we are unable; for our hands cannot avail to drill this jewel. However, our Shaykh2 is more experienced than we.’ Asked the King, ‘And who is your Shaykh?’; and they answered, ‘Master Obayd: he is more versed than we in this art and hath wealth galore and of skill great store. Therefore do thou send for him to the presence and bid him pierce thee this jewel.’ Accordingly the King sent for Obayd and bade him pierce the jewel, imposing on him the condition aforesaid. He took it and pierced it to the liking of the King who said to him, ‘Ask a boon of me, O master’; and said he, ‘O King of the age, allow me delay till to-morrow.’ Now the reason of this was that he wished to take counsel with his wife, who is the young lady thou sawest riding in procession; for he loveth her with exceeding love, and of the greatness of his affection for her, he doth naught without consulting her; wherefore he put off asking till the morrow. When he went home, he said to her, ‘I have pierced the King a jewel and he hath granted me a boon which I deferred asking till to-morrow, that I might consult thee. Now what dost thou wish, that I may ask it?’ Quoth she, ‘We have riches such as fires may not consume; but, an thou love me, ask of the King to make proclamation in the streets of Bassorah that all the townsfolk shall every Friday enter the mosques, two hours before the hour of prayer, so none may abide in the town at all great or small except they be in the mosques or in the houses and the doors be locked upon them, and that every shop of the town be left open. Then will I ride with my slave-women through the heart of the city and none shall look on me from window or lattice; and every one whom I find abroad I will kill.’3 So he went in to the King and begged of him this boon, which he granted him and caused proclamation to be made amongst the Bassorites,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The fiction may have been suggested by the fact that in all Moslem cities from India to Barbary the inner and outer gates are carefully shut during the noontide devotions, not “because Friday is the day on which creation was finished and Mohammed entered Al–Medinah;” but because there is a popular idea that in times now approaching the Christians will rise up against the Moslems during prayers and will repeat the “Sicilian Vespers.”
2 i.e. the syndic of the Guild of Jewellers.
3 This is an Arab Lady Godiva of the wrong sort.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the barber’s wife said, “When the Jeweller begged his boon, the King bade proclamation be made amongst the Bassorites, but the people objected that they feared for their goods from the cats and dogs; wherefore he commanded to shut the animals up till the folk should come forth from the Friday prayers. So the jeweller’s wife fell to sallying forth every Friday, two hours before the time of congregational prayer, and riding in state through the city with her women; during which time none dareth pass through the market-place nor look out of casement or lattice. This, then, is what thou wouldest know and I have told thee who she is; but, O my son, was it thy desire only to have news of her or hast thou a mind to meet her?” Answered he, “O my mother, ’tis my wish to foregather with her.” Quoth she, “Tell me what valuables thou hast with thee”; and quoth he, “O my mother, I have with me precious stones of four sorts, the first worth five hundred dinars each, the second seven hundred, the third eight hundred and the fourth a thousand ducats.” She asked, “Art thou willing to spend four of these?”; and he answered, “I am ready to spend all of them.” She rejoined, “Then, arise, O my son, and go straight to thy lodging and take a bezel-gem of those worth five hundred sequins, with which do thou repair to the jewel market and ask for the shop of Master Obayd, the Shaykh of the Jewellers. Go thither and thou wilt find him seated in his shop, clad in rich clothes, with workmen under his hand. Salute him and sit down on the front shelf of his shop;1 then pull out the jewel and give it to him, saying, ‘O master, take this stone and fashion it into a seal-ring for me with gold. Make it not large, a Miskál2 in weight and no more; but let the fashion of it be thy fairest.’ Then give him twenty dinars and to each of his prentices a dinar. Sit with him awhile and talk with him and if a beggar approach thee, show thy generosity by giving him a dinar, to the intent that he may affect thee, and after this, leave him and return to thy place. Pass the night there, and next morning, take an hundred dinars and bring them and give them to thy father the barber, for he is poor.” Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, “Be it so,” and returning to his caravanserai, took a jewel worth five hundred gold pieces and went with it to the jewel-bazar. There he enquired for the shop of Master Obayd, Shaykh of the Jewellers, and they directed him thereto. So he went thither and saw the Shaykh, a man of austere aspect and robed in sumptuous raiment with four journeymen under his hand. He addressed him with “Peace be upon you!” and the jeweller returned his greeting and welcoming him, made him sit down. Then he brought out the jewel and said, “O master, I wish thee to make me this jewel into a seal-ring with gold. Let it be the weight of a Miskal and no more, but fashion it excellently.” Then he pulled out twenty dinars and gave them to him, saying, “This is the fee for chasing and the price of the ring shall remain.”3 And he gave each of the apprentices a gold piece, wherefore they loved him, and so did Master Obayd. Then he sat talking with the jeweller and whenever a beggar came up to him, he gave him a gold piece and they all marvelled at his generosity. Now Master Obayd had tools at home, like those he had in the shop, and whenever he was minded to do any unusual piece of work, it was his custom to carry it home and do it there, that his journeymen might not learn the secrets of his wonderful workmanship.4 His wife used to sit before him, and when she was sitting thus and he looking upon her,5 he would fashion all manner of marvellously wroughten trinkets, such as were fit for none but kings. So he went home and sat down to mould the ring with admirable workmanship. When his wife saw him thus engaged, she asked him, “What wilt thou do with this bezel-gem?”; and he answered, “I mean to make it into a ring with gold, for ’tis worth five hundred dinars.” She enquired, “For whom?”; and he answered, “For a young merchant, who is fair of face, with eyes that wound with desire, and cheeks that strike fire and mouth like the seal of Sulaymán and cheeks like the bloom of Nu’mán and lips red as coralline and neck like the antelope’s long and fine. His complexion is white dashed with red and he is well-bred, pleasant and generous and doth thus and thus.” And he went on to describe to her now his beauty and loveliness and then his perfection and bounty and ceased not to vaunt his charms and the generosity of his disposition, till he had made her in love with him; for there is no sillier cuckold than he who vaunteth to his wife another man’s handsome looks and unusual liberality in money matters. So, when desire rose high in her, she said to him, “Is aught of my charms found in him?” Said he, “He hath all thy beauties; and he is thy counterpart in qualities. Meseemeth his age is even as thine and but that I fear to hurt thy feelings, I would say that he is a thousand times handsomer than thou art.” She was silent, yet the fire of fondness was kindled in her heart. And the jeweller ceased not to talk with her and to set out Kamar al-Zaman’s charms before her till he had made an end of moulding the ring; when he gave it to her and she put it on her finger, which it fitted exactly. Quoth she, “O my lord, my heart loveth this ring and I long for it to be mine and will not take it from my finger.” Quoth he, “Have patience! The owner of it is generous, and I will seek to buy it of him, and if he will sell it, I will bring it to thee. Or if he have another such stone, I will buy it and fashion it for thee into a ring like this.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is explained in my Pilgrimage i. 99 et seq.
2 About three pennyweights. It varies, however, everywhere and in Morocco the “Mezkal” as they call it is an imaginary value, no such coin existing.
3 i.e. over and above the value of the gold, etc.
4 This was the custom of contemporary Europe and more than one master cutler has put to death an apprentice playing Peeping Tom to detect the secret of sword-making.
5 Among Moslems husbands are divided into three species; (1) of “Bahr” who is married for love; (2) of “Dahr,” for defence against the world, and (3) of “Mahr” for marriage-settlements (money). Master Obayd was an unhappy compound of the two latter; but he did not cease to be a man of honour.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the jeweller said to his wife, “Have patience! The owner of it is generous and I will seek to buy it of him; and, if he will sell it, I will bring it to thee; or, if he have another such stone I will buy it and fashion it for thee into a ring like this.” On this wise it fared with the jeweller and his wife; but as regards Kamar al-Zaman, he passed the night in his lodging and on the morrow he took an hundred dinars and carried them to the old woman, the barber’s wife, saying to her, “Accept these gold pieces,” and she replied, “Give them to thy father.” So he gave them to the barber and she asked, “Hast thou done as I bade thee?” He answered, “Yes,” and she said, “Go now to the Shaykh, the jeweller, and if he give thee the ring, put it on the tip of thy finger and pull it off in haste and say to him, ‘O master, thou hast made a mistake; the ring is too tight.’ He will say, ‘O merchant, shall I break it and mould it again larger?’ And do thou say, ‘It booteth not to break it and fashion it anew. Take it and give it to one of thy slave-women.’ Then pull out another stone worth seven hundred dinars and say to him, ‘Take this stone and set it for me, for ’tis handsomer than the other.’ Give him thirty dinars and to each of the prentices two, saying, ‘These gold pieces are for the chasing and the price of the ring shall remain.’ Then return to thy lodging for the night and on the morrow bring me two hundred ducats, and I will complete thee the rest of the device.” So the youth went to the jeweller, who welcomed him and made him sit down in his shop; and he asked him, “Hast thou done my need?” “Yes,” answered Obayd and brought out to him the seal-ring; whereupon he set it on his finger-tip and pulling it off in haste, cried, “Thou hast made a mistake, O master;” and threw it to him, saying, “’Tis too strait for my finger.” Asked the jeweller, “O merchant, shall I make it larger?” But he answered, “Not so; take it as a gift and give it to one of thy slave-girls. Its worth is trifling, some five hundred dinars; so it booteth not to fashion it over again.” Then he brought out to him another stone worth seven hundred sequins and said to him, “Set this for me: ’tis a finer gem.” Moreover he gave him thirty dinars and to each of his workmen two. Quoth Obayd, “O my lord we will take the price of the ring when we have made it.”1 But Kamar al-Zaman said, “This is for the chasing, and the price of the ring remains over.” So saying, he went away home, leaving the jeweller and his men amazed at the excess of his generosity. Presently the jeweller returned to his wife and said, “O Halimah,2 never did I set eyes on a more generous than this young man, and as for thee, thy luck is good, for he hath given me the ring without price, saying, ‘Give it to one of thy slave-women.’” And he told her what had passed, adding, “Methinks this youth is none of the sons of the merchants, but that he is of the sons of the Kings and Sultans.” Now the more he praised him, the more she waxed in love-longing, passion and distraction for him. So she took the ring and put it on her finger, whilst the jeweller made another one, a little larger than the first. When he had finished moulding it, she put it on her finger, under the first, and said, “Look, O my lord, how well the two rings show on my finger! I wish they were both mine.” Said he, “Patience! It may be I shall buy thee this second one.” Then he lay that night and on the morrow he took the ring and went to his shop. As for Kamar al-Zaman, as soon as it was day, he repaired to the barber’s wife and gave her two hundred dinars. Quoth she, “Go to the jeweller and when he giveth thee the ring, put it on thy finger and pull it off again in haste, saying, ‘Thou hast made a mistake, O master! This ring is too large. A master like thee, when the like of me cometh to him with a piece of work, it behoveth him to take right measure; and if thou hadst measured my finger, thou hadst not erred.’ Then pull out another stone worth a thousand dinars and say to him, ‘Take this and set it, and give this ring to one of thy slave-women.’ Give him forty ducats and to each of his journeymen three, saying, “This is for the chasing, and for the cost of the ring, that shall remain.’ And see what he will say. Then bring three hundred diners and give them to thy father the barber that he may mend his fortune withal, for he is a poor man.” Answered Kamar al-Zaman, “I hear and obey,” and betook himself to the jeweller, who welcomed him and making him sit down, gave him the ring. He took it and put it on his finger; then pulled it off in haste and said, “It behoveth a master like thee, when the like of me bringeth him a piece of work, to take his measure. Hadst thou measured my finger, thou hadst not erred but take it and give it to one of thy slave women.” Then he brought out to him a stone worth a thousand sequins and said to him, “Take this and set it in a signet-ring for me after the measure of my finger.” Quoth Obayd, “Thou hast spoken sooth and art in the right;” and took his measure, whereupon he pulled out forty gold pieces and gave them to him, saying, “Take these for the chasing and the price of the ring shall remain.” Cried the jeweller, “O my lord, how much hire have we taken of thee’ Verily, thy bounty to us is great!” “No harm,” replied Kamar al-Zaman and sat talking with him awhile and giving a diner to every beggar who passed by the shop. Then he left him and went away, whilst the jeweller returned home and said to his wife, ‘How generous is this young merchant! Never did I set eyes on a more open handed or a comelier than he, no, nor a sweeter of speech. And he went on to recount to her his charms and generosity and was loud in his praise. Cried she, “O thou lack tact,3 since thou notest these qualities in him, and indeed he hath given thee two seal rings of price, it behoveth thee to invite him and make him an entertainment and entreat him lovingly. When he seest that thou affectest him and cometh to our place, we shall surely get great good of him; and if thou grudge him the banquet do thou bid him and I will entertain him of my monies.” Quoth he, “Dost thou know me to be niggardly, that thou sayest this Say?; and quoth she, “Thou art no niggard, but thou lackest tact. Invite him this very night and come not without him. An he refuse, conjure him by the divorce oath and be persistent with him “On my head and eyes,” answered he and moulded the ring till he had finished it, after which he passed the night and went forth on the morrow to his shop and sat there. On this wise it was with him, but as for Kamar al-Zaman, he took three hundred diners and carrying them to the old wife, gave them to her for the barber, her husband. Said she, “Most like he will invite thee to his house this day; and if he do this and thou pass the night there, tell me in the morning what befalleth thee and bring with thee four hundred diners and give them to thy father.” Answered he, “Hearing and obeying;” and as often as he ran out of money, he would sell some of his stones. So he repaired to the jeweller, who rose to him and received him with open arms, greeted him heartily and clapped up companionship with him. Then he gave him the ring, and he found it after the measure of his finger and said to the jeweller, “Allah bless thee, O prince of artists! The setting is conformable but the stone is not to my liking.” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1The Mac. Edit. here is a mass of blunders and misprints.
2 The Mac. Edit. everywhere calls her “Sabiyah” = the young lady and does not mention her name Halimah = the Mild, the Gentle till the cmlxxivth Night. I follow Mr. Payne’s example by introducing it earlier into the story, as it avoids vagueness and repetition of the indefinite.
3 Arab “Adím al-Zauk,”=without savour. applied to an insipid mannerless man as “bárid” (cold) is to a fool. “Ahl Zauk” is a man of pleasure, a voluptuary, a hedonist.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-Zaman said to the jeweller, “The setting is conformable to my wishes, but the stone is not to my liking. I have a handsomer than this: so take the seal-ring and give it to one of thy slave women.” Then he gave him a fourth stone and an hundred diners, saying, “Take thy hire and excuse the trouble we have given thee.” Obayd replied, “O merchant, all the trouble thou hast given us thou hast requited us and hast over whelmed us with thy great bounties: and indeed my heart is taken with love of thee and I cannot brook parting from thee. So, Allah upon thee, be thou my guest this night and heal my heart.” He rejoined, “So be it; but needs must I go to my Khan, that I may give a charge to my domestics and tell them that I shall sleep abroad to night, so they may not expect me.” “Where dost thou lodge?” asked the jeweller; and he answered, “In such a Khan.” Quoth Obayd, “I will come for thee there;” and quoth the other “’Tis well.” So the jeweller repaired to the Khan before sundown, fearing lest his wife should be anangered with him, if he returned home without his guest; and, carrying Kamar al-Zaman to his house, seated him in a saloon that had not its match, Halimah saw him, as he entered, and was ravished with him. They talked till supper was served when they ate and drank; after which appeared coffee and sherbets, and the jeweller ceased not to entertain him with talk till eventide, when they prayed the obligatory prayers. Then entered a handmaid with two cups1 of night drink, which when they had drunk, drowsiness overcame them and they slept. Presently in came the jeweller’s wife and seeing them asleep, looked upon Kamar al-Zaman’s face and her wit was confounded at his beauty. Said she, “How can he sleep who loveth the fair?” and, turning him over on his back, sat astraddle upon his breast. Then, in the mania of her passion for him, she rained down kisses on his cheeks, till she left a mark upon them and they became exceeding red and his cheek bones shone; and, she sucked his lips, till the blood ran out into her mouth; but with all this, her fire was not quenched nor her thirst assuaged. She ceased not to kiss and clip him and twine leg with leg, till the forebrow of Morn grew white and the dawn broke forth in light; when she put in his pocket four cockals2 and went away. Then she sent her maid with something like snuff, which she applied to their nostrils and they sneezed and awoke, when the slave-girl said, “O my lords, prayer is a duty; so rise ye and pray the dawn-prayer.” And she brought them basin and ewer.3 Quoth Kaman al-Zamar “O master, ’tis late and we have overslept ourselves;” and quoth the jeweller, “O my friend verily the air of this room is heavy; for, whenever I sleep in it, this happens to me.” Rejoined Kamar al-Zaman, “True,” and proceeded to make the Wuzu ablution; but, when he put the water to his face, his cheeks and lips burned him. Cried he, “Prodigious! If the air of the room be heavy and we have been drowned in sleep, what aileth my cheeks and lips that they burn me?” And he said to the jeweller, “O master, my cheeks and lips burn me.” The other replied, “I guess this cometh of the mosquito bites.” “Strange!” said Kamar al-Zaman. “Hath this thing happened to thee?” Replied Obayd, “No! But whenever I have by me a guest like thee, he complaineth in the morning of the mosquito bites, and this happeneth only when he is like thee beardless. If he be bearded the mosquitoes sting him not, and naught hindereth them from me but my beard. It seems mosquitoes love not bearded men.”4 Rejoined Kamar al-Zaman, “True.” Then the maid brought them early breakfast and they broke their fast and went out. Kamar al-Zaman betook himself to the old woman, who exclaimed, when she saw him, “I see the marks of joyance on thy face: tell me what thou hast seen.” Said he, “I have seen nothing. Only I supped with the house master in a saloon and prayed the night prayer, after which we fell asleep and woke not till morning.” She laughed and said, “What be those marks on thy cheeks and lips?” He answered, “’Twas the mosquitoes of the saloon that did this with me;” and she rejoined, “’Tis well. But did the same thing betide the house master?” He retorted, “Nay; but he told me that the mosquitoes of that saloon molest not bearded men, but sting those only who have no hair on face, and that whenever he hath for guest one who is beard less, the stranger awaketh complaining of the mosquito bites; whereas an he have a beard, there befalleth him naught of this.” Said she, “Sooth thou speakest: but say me, sawest thou aught save this?” And he answered, “I found four cockals in my pocket.” Quoth she, “Show them to me.” So he gave them to her and she laughed and said, “Thy mistress laid these in thy pocket.” He asked, “How so?” And she answered, “ ’Tis as if she said to thee, in the language of signs,5 ‘An thou wert in love, thou wouldst not sleep, for a lover sleepeth not: but thou hast not ceased to be a child and fit for nothing but to play with these cockals. So what crave thee to fall in love with the fair?’ Now she came to thee by night and finding thee asleep, scored thy cheeks with her kisses and left thee this sign. But that will not suffice her of thee and she will certainly send her husband to invite thee again to night; so, when thou goest home with him, hasten not to fall asleep, and on the morrow bring me five hundred diners and come and acquaint me with what hath passed, and I will perfect for thee the device.” Answered he, “I hear and obey,” and went back to the Khan. Thus it befel him; but as regards the jeweller’s wife, she said to her husband, “Is the guest gone?” Answered he, “Yes, but, O Halimah,6the mosquitoes plagued him last night and scarified his cheeks and lips, and indeed I was abashed before him.” She rejoined, “This is the wont of the mosquitoes of our saloon; for they love none save the beardless. But do thou invite him again to night.” So he repaired to the Khan where the youth abode, and bidding him, carried him to his house, where they ate and drank and prayed the night prayer in the saloon, after which the slave-girl entered and gave each of them a cup of night drink, And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Finján” the egg-shell cups from which the Easterns still drink coffee.
2 Arab. “Awáshik” a rare word, which Dozy translates “osselet” (or osselle) and Mr. Payne, “hucklebones,” concerning which he has obliged me with this note. Chambaud renders osselet by “petit os avec lequel les enfants jouent.” Hucklebone is the hip-bone but in the plural it applies to our cockals or cockles: Latham gives “hucklebone,” (or cockal), one of the small vertebræ of the coccygis, and Littleton translates “Talus,” a hucklebone, a bone to play with like a dye, a play called cockal. (So also in Rider.) Hucklebones and knucklebones are syn.: but the latter is modern and liable to give a false idea, besides being tautological. It has nothing to do with the knuckles and derives from the German “Knochel” (dialectically Knochelein) a bonelet.
3 For ablution after sleep and before prayer. The address of the slave-girl is perfectly natural: in a Moslem house we should hear it this day, nor does it show the least sign of “frowardness. ”
4 The perfect stupidity of the old wittol is told with the driest Arab humour.
5 This is a rechauffé of the Language of Signs in “Azíz and Azízah” vol. ii. 302.
6 In the Mac. Edit. “Yá Fulánah”=O certain person.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the slave- girl went in to the twain and gave each of them a cup of night drink, and they drank and fell asleep. Presently, in came Halimah and said, “O good for nothing, how canst thou sleep and call thy self a lover? A lover sleepeth not!” Then she mounted on his breast and ceased not to come down upon him with kisses and caresses, biting and sucking his lips and so forth, till the morning. when she put in his pocket a knife and sent her handmaid to arouse them. And when the youth awoke, his cheeks were on fire, for excess of redness, and his lips like coral, for dint of sucking and kissing. Quoth the jeweller, “Did the mosquitoes plague thee last night?”; and quoth the other, “Nay!”; for he now knew the conceit and left complaining. Then he felt the knife in his pocket and was silent; but when he had broken his fast and drunk coffee, he left the jeweller and going to the Khan; took five hundred diners of gold and carried them to the old woman, to whom he related what had passed, saying, “I slept despite myself, and when I woke at dawn I found nothing but a knife in my pocket.” Exclaimed the old trot, “May Allah protect thee from her this next night! For she saith to thee by this sign, ‘An thou sleep again, I will cut thy throat.’ Thou wilt once more be bidden to the jeweller’s house to night,1 and if thou sleep, she will slay thee.” Said he, “What is to be done?”; and said she, “Tell me what thou atest and drankest before sleeping.” Quoth he, “We supped as was our wont and prayed the night prayer, after which there came in to us a maid, who gave each of us a cup of night drink, which when I had drunk, I fell asleep and awoke not till the morning.” Quoth the old woman, “The mischief is in the cup: so, when the maid giveth it to thee, take it from her, but drink not and wait till the master of the house have drunken and fallen asleep; then say to her, ‘Give me a draught of water,’ and she will go to fetch thee the gugglet. Then do thou empty the cup behind the pillow and lie down and feign sleep. So when she cometh back with the gugglet, she will deem that thou hast fallen asleep, after having drunk off the cup, and will leave thee; and presently the case will appear to thee; but beware of disobeying my bidding.” Answered he, “I hear and I obey,” and returned to the Khan. Meanwhile the jeweller’s wife said to her husband, “A guest’s due honour is three nights’ entertainment: so do thou invite him a third time.” Whereupon he betook himself to the youth and inviting him, carried him home and sat down with him in the saloon. When they had supped and prayed the night prayer, behold, in came the handmaid and gave each of them a cup. Her master drank and fell asleep; but Kamar al-Zaman forbore to drink, whereupon quoth the maid, “Wilt thou not drink, O my lord?” Answered he, “I am athirst, bring me the gugglet.” Accordingly she went to fetch it, and he emptied the cup behind the pillow and lay down. When the slave-girl returned, she saw him lying down and going to her mistress said, “He hath drunk off the cup and fallen asleep;” whereupon quoth Halimah to herself, “Verily, his death is better than his life.” Then, taking a sharp knife, she went in to him, saying, “Three times, and thou notedst not the sign, O fool!2 So now I will rip up thy maw.” When he saw her making for him knife in hand, he opened his eyes and rose, laughing; whereupon said she, “’Twas not of thine own wit, that thou camest at the meaning of the sign, but by the help of some wily cheat; so tell me whence thou hadst this knowledge.” “From an old woman,” replied he, “between whom and me befel such and such;” and he told her all that had passed. Quoth she, “To morrow go thou forth from us and seek her and say, ‘Hast thou any further device in store?’ And if she answer, ‘I have,’ do thou rejoin, ‘Then do thy best that I may enjoy her publicly.’ But, if she say, ‘I have no means of doing that, and this is the last of my devices,’ put her away from thy thought, and to morrow night my husband will come to thee and invite thee. Do thou come with him and tell me and I will consider what remaineth to be done.” Answered he, “There is no harm in that!” Then he spent the rest of the night with her in embracing and clipping, plying the particle of copulation in concert3 and joining the conjunctive with the conjoined,4 whilst her husband was as a cast-out nunnation of construction.5 And they ceased not to be thus till morning, when she said to him, “’Tis not a night of thee that will content me, nor a day; no, nor yet a month nor a year; but it’s my intent to abide with thee the rest of my life. Wait, however, till I play my husband a trick which would baffle the keenest witted and win for us our wishes. I will cause doubt to enter into him, so that he shall divorce me, whereupon I will marry thee and go with thee to thine own country; I will also transport all his monies and hoards to thy lodging and will contrive thee the ruin of his dwelling place and the blotting out of his traces. But do thou hearken to my speech and obey me in that I shall say to thee and gainsay me not.” He replied, “I hear and I obey: in me there is none opposition.” Then said she, “Go to the Khan and, when my husband cometh to thee and inviteth thee, say to him, ‘O my brother, a son of Adam is apt to be burdensome, and when his visits grow over frequent, both generous and niggard loathe him.6 How then shall I go with thee every night and lie I and thee, on the saloon? An thou wax not chagrined with me, thy Harim will bear me grudge, for that I hinder thee from thine. Therefore if thou have a mind to my company, take me a house beside thine own and we will abide thus, now I sitting with thee till the time of sleep, and now with me thou. Then I will go to my place and thou to thy Harim and this will be a better rede than that I hinder thee from thy Harim every night.’ Then will he come to me and take counsel with me, and I will advise him to turn out our neighbour, for the house wherein he liveth is our house and he renteth it of us; and once thou art in the house, Allah will make easy to us the rest of our scheme.” And presently she added, “Go now and do as I bid thee.” Answered he, “I hear and obey;” whereupon she left him and went away, whilst he lay down and feigned to be asleep. Presently, the handmaid came and aroused them; and when the jeweller awoke, he said to his guest, “O merchant have the mosquitoes worried thee?” He replied, “No,” and Obayd said, “Belike thou art grown used to them.” Then they broke their fast and drank coffee, after which they fared forth to their affairs, and Kamar al-Zaman betook himself to the old crone, and related to her what had passed, And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Laylat al-Kábilah,” lit.=the coming night, our to-night; for which see vol. iii. 349.
2 Arab. “Ya Ahmak!” which in Marocco means a madman, a maniac, a Santon.
3 The whole passage has a grammatical double entendre whose application is palpable. Harf al-Jarr=a particle governing the noun in the genitive or a mode of thrusting and tumbling.
4 Arab. “Al–Silah” =conjunctive (sentence), also coition; Al–Mausúl= the conjoined, a grammatical term for relative pronoun or particle.
5 Arab. “Tanwin al-Izafah ma’zul” = the nunnation in construction cast out. “Tanwin” (nunnation) is pronouncing the vowels of the case-endings of a noun with n un for u (nominative) in for i (genitive) and an for a (accusative). This nunnation expresses indefiniteness, e.g. “Malikun”=a king, any king. When the noun is made definite by the Ma’rifah or article (al), the Tanwin must be dropped, e.g. Al–Maliku = the King; Al-Malikun being a grammatical absurdity. In construction or regimen (izafah) the nunnation must also disappear, as Maliku ‘I-Hind) = the King of Hind (a King of Hind would be Malikun min Muluki ‘I-Hind) = a King from amongst the Kings of Hind). Thus whilst the wife and the lover were conjoined as much as might be, the hocussed and sleeping husband was dismissed (ma’zul=degraded) like a nunnation dropped in construction. I may add that the terminal syllables are invariably dropped in popular parlance and none but Mr. G. Palgrave (who afterwards ignored his own assertion) ever found an Arab tribe actually using them in conversation although they are always pronounced when reading the Koran and poetry.
6 This was a saying of Mohammed about overfrequency of visits, “Zur ghibban, tazid hubban”=call rarely that friendship last fairly. So the verse of Al–Mutanabbi,
“How oft familiarity breeds dislike.”
Preston quotes Jesus ben Sirach, {Greek letters}. Also Al–Hariri (Ass. xv. of “The Legal”; De Sacy p. 478 1. 2.) “Visit not your friend more than one day in a month, nor stop longer than that with him!” Also Ass. xvi. 487, 8. “Multiply not visits to thy friend.” “None so disliked as one visiting too often.” (Preston p. 352). In the Cent nouvelles (52) Nouvelles (No. lii.) the dying father says to his son:—“Jamais ne vous hantez tent en l’ostel de votre voisin que lion vous y serve de pain bis.” In these matters Moslems follow the preaching and practice of the Apostle, who was about as hearty and genial as the “Great Washington.” But the Arab had a fund of dry humour which the Anglo–American lacked altogether.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar al-Zaman betook himself to the old crone, he related to her what had passed, saying, “She spake to me this and that, and I answered her thus and thus. Now say me, hast thou any farther device for bringing me to enjoy her publicly?” Quoth she, “O my son, here endeth my contrivance, and now I am at the term of my devices.” Upon this he left her and returned to the Khan where, as eventide evened, the jeweller came to him and invited him. He said, “I cannot go with thee.” Asked the merchant, “Why so? I love thee and cannot brook separation from thee. Allah upon thee come with me!” The other replied, “An it be thy wish to continue our comradeship and keep up the friendship betwixt thee and me, take me a house by the side of thine own and when thou wilt, thou shalt pass the evening with me and I with thee; but, as soon as the time of sleep cometh, each of us shall hie him to his own home and lie there.” Quoth Obayd, “I have a house adjoining mine, which is my own property: so go thou with me to night and to- morrow I will have the house untenanted for thee.” Accordingly he went with him and they supped and prayed the night prayer, after which the jeweller drank the cup of drugged1 liquor and fell asleep: but in Kamar al-Zaman’s cup there was no trick; so he drank it and slept not. Then came the jeweller’s wife and sat chatting with him through the dark hours, whilst her husband lay like a corpse. When he awoke in the morning as of wont, he sent for his tenant and said to him, “O man, quit me the house, for I have need of it.” “On my head and eyes,” answered the other and voided the house to him, whereupon Kamar al-Zaman took up his abode therein and transported thither all his baggage. The jeweller passed that evening with him, then went to his own house. On the next day, his wife sent for a cunning builder and bribed him with money to make her an underground-way2 from her chamber to Kamar al-Zaman’s house, with a trap-door under the earth. So, before the youth was ware, she came in to him with two bags of money and he said to her, “Whence comest thou?” She showed him the tunnel and said to him, “Take these two bags of his money.” Then she sat with him, the twain toying and tumbling together till the morning, when she said, “Wait for me, till I go to him and wake him, so he may go to his shop, and I return to thee.” He sat expecting her, whilst she went away and awoke her husband, who made the Wuzu ablution and prayed and went to his shop. As soon as he was gone, she took four bags and, carrying them through the Souterrain to Kamar al-Zaman, said to him, “Store these up;” then she sat with him awhile, after which she retired to her home and he betook himself to the bazar. When he returned at sundown, he found in his house ten purses and jewels and much besides. Presently the jeweller came to him and carried him to his own house, where they passed the evening in the saloon, till the handmaid came in according to custom, and brought them the drink. Her master drank and fell asleep, whilst naught betided Kamar al-Zaman for that his cup was wholesome and there was no trick therein. Then came Halimah who sat down atoying with him, whilst the slave-girl transported the jeweller’s goods to Kamar al-Zaman’s house by the secret passage. Thus they did till morning, when the handmaid awoke her lord and gave them to drink coffee, after which they went each his own way. On the third day the wife brought out to him a knife of her husband’s, which he had chased and wrought with his own hand, and which he priced at five hundred diners. But there was no knife like it and because of the eagerness with which folk sought it of him, he had laid it up in a chest and could not bring himself to sell it to any one in creation. Quoth she, “Take this knife and set it in thy waist shawl and go to my husband and sit with him. Then pull out the knife and say to him, ‘O master, look at this knife I bought to day and tell me if I have the worst or the best of the bargain.’ He will know it, but will be ashamed to say to thee, ‘This is my knife;’ so he will ask thee, ‘Whence didst thou buy it and for how much?’; and do thou make answer, ‘I saw two Levantines3 disputing and one said to the other, ‘Where hast thou been?’ Quoth his companion, ‘I have been with my mistress, and whenever I foregather with her, she giveth me ten dirhams; but this day she said to me, ‘My hand is empty of silver for thee to day, but take this knife of my husband’s.’ So I took it and intend to sell it.’ The knife pleased me and hearing his tale I said to him, ‘Wilt thou sell it to me?’ when he replied, ‘Buy.’ So I got it of him for three hundred gold pieces and I wonder whether it was cheap or dear.’ And note what he will say to thee. Then talk with him awhile and rise and come back to me in haste. Thou wilt find me awaiting thee at the tunnel mouth, and do thou give me the knife.” Replied Kamar al-Zaman, “I hear and I obey,” and taking the knife set it in his waist-shawl. Then he went to the shop of the jeweller, who saluted him with the salam and welcomed him and made him sit down. He spied the knife in his waist shawl, at which he wondered and said to himself, “That is my knife: who can have conveyed it to this merchant?” And he fell a musing and saying in his mind, “I wonder an it be my knife or a knife like it!” Presently Kamar al-Zaman pulled it out and said to him, “Harkye, master; take this knife and look at it.” Obayd took it and knew it right well, but was ashamed to say, “This is my knife;” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “‘Amal”— action, operation. In Hindostani it is used (often with an Alif for an Ayn) as intoxication e.g. Amal pání strong waters and applied to Sharáb (wine), Bozah (Beer), Tádí (toddy or the fermented juice of the Tád, Borassus flabelliformis), Naryáli (juice of the cocoa-nut tree) Saynddi (of the wild date, Elate Sylvestris), Afyún (opium an its preparations as post=poppy seeds) and various forms of Cannabis Sativa, as Ganja, Charas, Madad, Sahzi etc. for which see Herklots’ Glossary.
2 Arab “Sardáb,” mostly an underground room (vol. i. 340) but here a tunnel.
3 Arab. “Al-Láwandiyah”: this and the frequent mention of coffee and presently of a watch (sa’ah) show that the tale in its present state, cannot be older than the end of the sixteenth century.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the jeweller took the knife from Kamar al-Zaman, he knew it, but was ashamed to say, “This is my knife.” So he asked, “Where didst thou buy it?” Kamar al-Zaman answered as Halimah had charged him, and the jeweller said, “The knife was cheap at that price, for it is worth five hundred diners.” But fire flamed in his heart and his hands were tied from working at his craft. Kamar al-Zaman continued to talk with him, whilst he was drowned in the sea of solicitudes, and for fifty words wherewith the youth bespoke him, he answered him but one; for his heart ached and his frame was racked and his thoughts were troubled and he was even as saith the poet,
“I have no words though folk would have me talk
And who bespeak me find me thought waylaid:
Plunged in the Care-sea’s undiscovered depths,
Nor aught of difference see ‘twixt man and maid!”
When Kamar al-Zaman saw his case thus changed, he said to him “Belike thou art busy at this present,” and leaving him, returned in hottest haste to his own house, where he found Halimah standing at the passage door awaiting him. Quoth she “Hast thou done as I bade thee?”; and quoth he, “Yes.” She asked, “What said he to thee?”; and he answered, “He told me that the knife was cheap at that price, for that it was worth five hundred diners: but I could see that he was troubled; so I left him and know not what befel him after that.” Cried she, “Give me the knife and reck thou not of him.” Then she took the knife and restoring it to its place, sat down. Now after Kamar al-Zaman’s departure fire flamed in the jeweller’s heart and suspicion was sore upon him and he said to himself, “Needs must I get up and go look for the knife and cut down doubt with certainty.” So he rose and repaired to his house and went in to his wife, snorting like a dragon;1 and she said to him, “What mattereth thee, O my lord?” He asked, “Where is my knife?” and she answered, “In the chest,” and smote hand upon breast, saying, “O my grief! Belike thou hast fallen out with some one and art come to fetch the knife to smite him withal.” Said he, “Give me the knife. Let me see it.” But said she, “Not till thou swear to me that thou wilt not smite any one therewith.” So he swore this to her and she opened the chest and brought out to him the knife and he fell to turning it over, saying, “Verily, this is a wondrous thing!” Then quoth he to her, “Take it and lay it back in its place;” and she, “Tell me the meaning of all this.” He answered, “I saw with our friend a knife like this,” and told her all that had passed between himself and the youth, adding, “But, when I saw it in the chest, my suspicion ended in certainty.” Said she, “Haply thou misdoubtedest of me and deemedst that I was the Levantine’s mistress and had given him the knife.” He replied, “Yes, I had my doubts of this; but, when I saw the knife, suspicion was lifted from my heart.” Rejoined she, “O man, there is now no good in thee!” And he fell to excusing himself to her, till he appeased her; after which he fared forth and returned to his shop. Next day, she gave Kamar al-Zaman her husband’s watch, which he had made with his own hand and whereof none had the like, saying, “Go to his shop and sit by his side and say to him, ‘I saw again to-day him whom I saw yesterday. He had a watch in his hand and said to me, ‘Wilt thou buy this watch?’ Quoth I, ‘Whence hadst thou it?’; and quoth he, ‘I was with my mistress and she gave me this watch.’ So I bought it of him for eight-and-fifty gold pieces. Look at it: is it cheap at that price or dear?’ Note what he shall say to thee; then return to me in haste and give me the watch.” So Kamar al-Zaman repaired to the jeweller and did with him as she had charged him. When Obayd saw the watch, he said, “This is worth seven hundred ducats;” and suspicion entered into him. Then the youth left him and returning to the wife, gave her back the watch. Presently, her husband suddenly came in snorting, and said to her, “Where is my watch?” Said she, “Here it is;” and he cried, “Give it to me.” So she brought it to him and he exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”; and she too exclaimed, “O man, there is something the matter with thee. Tell me what it is.” He replied, “What shall I say? Verily, I am bewildered by these chances!” And he recited these couplets,2
“Although the Merciful be doubtless with me, Yet am I sore bewildered, for new griefs Have compassed me about, or ere I knew it I have endured till Patience self became Impatient of my patience. — I have endured Waiting till Heaven fulfil my destiny. — I have endured till e’en endurance owned How I bore up with her; (a thing more bitter Than bitter aloes) yet though a bitterer thing Is not, than is that drug it were more bitter To me should Patience leave me unsustained.”
Then said he to his wife, “O woman, I saw with the merchant our friend, first my knife, which I knew, for that its fashion was a device of my own wit, nor cloth its like exist; and he told me of it a story that troubled the heart: so I came back and found it at home. Again to day I see him with the watch, whose fashion also is of my own device, nor is there the fellow of it in Bassorah, and of this also he told me a story that saddened my heart. Wherefore I am bewildered in my wit and know not what is to come to me.” Quoth she, “The purport of thy speech is that thou suspectedst me of being the friend of that merchant and his leman, and eke of giving him thy good; so thou camest to question me and make proof of my perfidy; and, had I not shown thee the knife and the watch, thou hadst been certified of my treason. But since, O man, thou deemest me this ill deme, henceforth I will never again break with thee bread nor drain with thee drink, for I loathe thee with the loathing of prohibition.3” So he gentled her and excused himself till he had appeased her and returned, repenting him of having bespoken her thus, to his shop, where he sat, And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Su’bán,” vol. i. 172.
2 The lines have occurred in vol. i. 238, where I have noted the punning “Sabr”= patience or aloes. I quote Torrens: the Templar, however, utterly abolishes the pun in the last couplet:-
“The case is not at my command, but in fair Patience hand I’m set by Him who order’th all and cloth such case command.”
“Amr” here=case (circumstance) or command (order) with a suspicion of reference to Murr=myrrh, bitterness. The reader will note the resignation to Fate’s decrees which here and in host of places elevates the tone of the book.
3 i.e. as one loathes that which is prohibited, and with a loathing which makes it unlawful for me to cohabit with thee.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the jeweller quitted his wife, he repented having bespoken her thus and, returning to his shop, he sat there in disquiet sore and anxiety galore, between belief and unbelief. About eventide he went home alone, not bringing Kamar al-Zaman with him: whereupon quoth his wife, “Where is the merchant?”; and quoth he, “In his lodgings.” She asked, “Is the friendship between thee and him grown cold?” and he answered, “By Allah, I have taken a dislike to him, because of that which hath betided me from him.”1 Quoth she, “Go fetch him, to please me.” So he arose and went in to Kamar al-Zaman in his house; where he saw his own goods strewn about and knew them. At this sight, fire was kindled in his heart and he fell asighing. Quoth the youth, “How is it that I see thee melancholy?” Obayd was ashamed to say, “Here are my goods in thy house: who brought them hither?”; so he replied only, “A vexation hath betided me; but come thou with me to my house, that we may solace ourselves there.” The other rejoined, “Let me be in my place: I will not go with thee.” But the jeweller conjured him to come and took him to his house, where they supped and passed the evening together, Kamar al-Zaman talking with the jeweller, who was drowned in the sea of solicitude and for a hundred words, wherewith the guest bespoke him, answered him only one word. Presently, the handmaid brought them two cups of drink, as usual, and they drank; whereupon the jeweller fell asleep, but the youth abode on wake, because his cup was not drugged. Then came Halimah and said to her lover, “How deemest thou of yonder cornuted, who is drunken in his heedlessness and weeteth not the wiles of women? There is no help for it but that I cozen him into divorcing me. To-morrow, I will disguise myself as a slave-girl and walk after thee to his shop, where do thou say to him, ‘O master, I went to-day into the Khan of Al–Yasirjiyah, where I saw this damsel and bought her for a thousand diners. Look at her for me and tell me whether she was cheap at that price or dear.’ Then uncover to him my face and breasts and show all of me to him; after which do thou carry me back to thy house, whence I will go to my chamber by the secret passage, so I may see the issue of our affair with him.” Then the twain passed the night in mirth and merriment, converse and good cheer, dalliance and delight till dawn, when she returned to her own place and sent the handmaid to arouse her lawful lord and her lover. Accordingly they arose and prayed the dawn-prayer and brake their fast and drank coffee, after which Obayd repaired to his shop and Kamar al-Zaman betook himself to his own house. Presently, in came Halimah to him by the tunnel, in the guise of a slave-girl, and indeed she was by birth a slave-girl.2 Then he went out and she walked behind him, till he came to the jeweller’s shop and saluting him, sat down and said, “O master, I went into the Khan of Al–Yasirjiyah to-day, to look about me, and saw this damsel in the broker’s hands. She pleased me; so I bought her for a thousand diners and I would have thee look upon her and see if she be cheap at that price or no.” So saying, he uncovered her face and the jeweller saw her to be his own wife. clad in her costliest clothes, tricked out in her finest trinkets and kohl’d and henna’d, even as she was wont to adorn herself before him in the house. He knew with full knowledge her face and dress and trinkets, for those he had wrought with his own hand, and he saw on her fingers the seal rings he had newly made for Kamar al-Zaman, whereby he was certified with entire assurance that she was indeed his very wife. So he asked her, “What is thy name, O slave-girl?”; and she answered, “Halimah,” naming to him her own name; whereat he was amazed and said to the youth, “For how much didst thou buy her?” He replied, “For a thousand diners”; and the jeweller rejoined, “Thou hast gotten her gratis; for her rings and clothes and trinkets are worth more than that.” Said Kamar al-Zaman, “May Allah rejoice thee with good news! Since she pleaseth thee, I will carry her to my house;” and Obayd said, “Do thy will.” So he took her off to his house, whence she passed through the secret passage to her own apartment and sat there. Meanwhile, fire flamed in the jeweller’s heart and he said to himself, “I will go see my wife. If she be at home, this slave-girl must be her counterpart, and glory be to Him who alone hath no counterpart! But, if she be not at home, ’tis she herself without a doubt.” Then he set off running, and coming to his house, found his wife sitting in the same clothes and ornaments he had seen upon her in the shop; whereupon he beat hand upon hand, saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” “O man,” asked she, “art thou mad or what aileth thee? ’Tis not thy wont to do thus, and needs must it be that something hath befallen thee.” Answered he, “If thou wilt have me tell thee be not vexed.” Quoth she, “Say on”; so he said, “Our friend the merchant hath bought a slave-girl, whose shape is as thy shape and her height as thy height; more-over, her name is even as thy name and her apparel is the like of thine apparel. Brief, she resembleth thee in all her attributes, and on her fingers are seal rings like thy seal rings and her trinkets are as thy trinkets. So, when he displayed her to me, methought it was thyself and I was perplexed concerning my case. Would we had never seen this merchant nor companied with him; and would he had never left his own country and we had not known him, for he hath troubled my life which before was serene, causing ill feeling to succeed good faith and making doubt to enter into my heart.” Said she, “Look in my face, belike I am she who was with him and he is my lover and I disguised myself as a slave-girl and agreed with him that he should display me to thee, so he might lay a snare for thee.” He replied, “What words are these? Indeed, I never suspected that thou wouldst do the like of this deed.” Now this jeweller was unversed in the wiles of women and knew not how they deal with men, nor had he heard the saying of him who said,
“A heart bore thee off in chase of the fair,
As fled Youth and came Age wi’ his hoary hair:
Laylá troubles me and love joys are far;
And rival and risks brings us cark and care.
An would’st ask me of woman, behold I am
In physic of womankind wise and ware:
When grizzleth man’s head and his monies fail,
His lot in their love is a poor affair.”
Nor that of another,3
“Gainsay women; he obeyeth Allah best, who saith them nay
And he prospers not who giveth them his bridle rein to sway
For they’ll hinder him from winning to perfection in his gifts,
Though a thousand years he study, seeking after wisdom’s way.”
And a third,
“Women Satans are, made for woe of man:
To Allah I fly from such Satanesses!
Whom they lure by their love he to grief shall come
And lose bliss of world and the Faith that blesses.”
Said she, “Here am I sitting in my chamber; so go thou to him forthright and knock at the door and contrive to go in to him quickly. An thou see the damsel with him ’tis a slave-girl of his who resembleth me (and Glory be to Him who hath no resemblance4) But, an thou see no slave-girl with him, then am I myself she whom thou sawest with him in the shop, and thine ill thought of me will be stablished.” “True,” answered Obayd, and went out leaving her, whereupon she passed through the hidden passage and seating herself by Kamar al-Zaman, told him what had passed, saying, “Open the door quickly and show me to him.” Now, as they were talking, behold, there came a knocking at the door. Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, “Who is at the door?”; and quoth the jeweller, “I, thy friend; thou displayedst to me thy slave- girl in the bazar, and I rejoiced for thee in her, but my joy in her was not completed; so open the door and let me look at her again.” Rejoined he, “So be it,” and opened the door to him, whereupon he saw his wife sitting by him. She rose and kissed their hands; and he looked at her; then she talked with him awhile and he saw her not to be distinguished from his wife in aught and said, “Allah createth whatso He will.” Then he went away more disheartened than before and returned to his own house where he saw his wife sitting, for she had foregone him thither by the souterrain. And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 This is quite natural to the sensitive Eastern.
2 Hence, according to Moslem and Eastern theory generally her lewd and treasonable conduct. But in Egypt not a few freeborn women and those too of the noblest, would beat her hollow at her own little game. See for instance the booklet attributed to Jalál al-Siyútí and entitled Kitáh al-Ízáh (Book of Explanation) fí ‘Ilm al-Nikáh (in the Science of Carnal Copulation). There is a copy of it in the British Museum; and a friend kindly suppl~ed me with a lithograph from Cairo; warning me that there are doubts about the authorship.
3 These lines have occurred in vol. iii. 214: I quote Mr. Payne.
4 This ejaculation, as the waw shows, is parenthetic; spoken either by Halimah, by Shahrazad or by the writer.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young lady forewent her spouse by the souterrain as he fared through the door and sat down in her upper chamber;1 so as soon as he entered she asked him, “What hast thou seen?” and he answered, “I found her with her master; and she resembleth thee.” Then said she, “Off to thy shop and let this suffice thee of ignoble suspicion and never again deem ill of me.” Said he, “So be it: accord me pardon for what is past.” And she, “Allah grant thee grace!”2 whereupon he kissed her right and left and went back to his shop. Then she again betook herself to Kamar al-Zaman through the underground passage, with four bags of money, and said to him, “Equip thyself at once for the road and be ready to carry off the money without delay, against I devise for thee the device I have in mind.” So he went out and purchased mules and loaded them and made ready a travelling litter, he also bought Mamelukes and eunuchs and sending, without let or hindrance, the whole without the city, returned to Halimah and said to her, “I have made an end of my affairs.” Quoth she, “And I on my side am ready; for I have transported to thy house all the rest of his monies and treasures and have left him nor little nor much, whereof he may avail himself. All this is of my love for thee, O dearling of my heart, for I would sacrifice my husband to thee a thousand times. But now it behoveth, thou go to him and farewell him, saying, ‘I purpose to depart after three days and am come to bid thee adieu; so do thou reckon what I owe thee for the hire of the house that I may send it to thee and acquit my conscience.’ Note his reply and return to me and tell me; for I can no more; I have done my best, by cozening him, to anger him with me and cause him to put me away, but I find him none the less infatuated with me. So nothing will serve us but to depart to thine own country.” And quoth he, “O rare! an but swevens prove true!”3 Then he went to the jeweller’s shop and sitting down by him, said to him, “O master, I set out for home in three days’ time, and am come to farewell thee. So I would have thee reckon what I owe thee for the hire of the house, that I may pay it to thee and acquit my conscience.” Answered Obayd, “What talk is this? Verily, ’tis I who am indebted to thee. By Allah, I will take nothing from thee for the rent of the house, for thou hast brought down blessings upon us! However, thou desolatest me by thy departure, and but that it is forbidden to me, I would certainly oppose thee and hinder thee from returning to thy country and kinsfolk.” Then he took leave of him, whilst they both wept with sore weeping and the jeweller went with him, and when they entered Kamar al-Zaman’s house, there they found Halimah who stood before them and served them; but when Obayd returned home, he found her sitting there; nor did he cease to see her thus in each house in turn, for the space of three days, when she said to Kamar al-Zaman, “Now have I transported to thee all that he hath of monies and hoards and carpets and things of price, and there remaineth with him naught save the slave-girl, who used to come in to you with the night drink: but I cannot part with her, for that she is my kinswoman and she is dear to me as a confidante. So I will beat her and be wroth with her and when my spouse cometh home, I will say to him, ‘I can no longer put up with this slave-girl nor stay in the house with her; so take her and sell her.’ Accordingly he will sell her and do thou buy her, that we may carry her with us.” Answered he, “No harm in that.” So she beat the girl and when the jeweller came in, he found her weeping and asked her why she wept. Quoth she, “My mistress hath beaten me.” He then went in to his wife and said to her, “What hath that accursed girl done, that thou hast beaten her?” She replied, “O man, I have but one word to say to thee, and ’tis that I can no longer bear the sight of this girl; so take her and sell her, or else divorce me.” Quoth he, “I will sell her that I may not cross thee in aught;” and when he went out to go to the shop he took her and passed with her by Kamar al-Zaman. No sooner had he gone out than his wife slipped through the under ground passage to Kamar al-Zaman, who placed her in the litter, before the Shaykh her husband reached him. When the jeweller came up and the lover saw the slave-girl with him, he asked him, “What girl is this?”; and the other answered, “’Tis my slave-girl who used to serve us with the night drink; she hath disobeyed her mistress who is wroth with her and hath bidden me sell her.” Quoth the youth, “An her mistress have taken an aversion to her, there is for her no abiding with her; but sell her to me, that I may smell your scent in her, and I will make her handmaid to my slave Halimah.” “Good,” answered Obayd: “take her.” Asked Kamar al-Zaman, “What is her price?”; but the jeweller said, “I will take nothing from thee, for thou hast been bountiful to us.” So he accepted her from him and said to Halimah, “Kiss thy lord’s hand.” Accordingly, she came out from the litter and kissing Obayd’s hand, remounted, whilst he looked hard at her. Then said Kamar al-Zaman, “I commend thee to Allah, O Master Obayd! Acquit my conscience of responsibility.4” Answered the jeweller, “Allah acquit thee! and carry thee safe to thy family!” Then he bade him farewell and went to his shop weeping, and indeed it was grievous to him to part from Kamar al- Zaman, for that he had been friend and friendship hath its debtorship; yet he rejoiced in the dispelling of the doubts which had befallen him anent his wife, since the young man was now gone and his suspicions had not been stablished. Such was his case; but as regards Kamar al-Zaman, the young lady said to him, “An thou wish for safety, travel with me by other than the wonted way.” And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kasr” here meaning an upper room.
2 To avoid saying, I pardon thee.
3 A proverbial saying which here means I could only dream of such good luck.
4 A good old custom amongst Moslems who have had business transactions with each other: such acquittance of all possible claims will be quoted on “Judgment–Day,” when debts will be severely enquired into.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Halimah said to Kamar al-Zaman, “An thou wish for safety travel with me by other than the wonted way,” he replied, “Hearing and obeying;” and, taking a road other than that used by folk, fared on without ceasing from region to region till he reached the confines of Egypt-land1 and sent his sire a letter by a runner. Now his father the merchant Abd al-Rahman was sitting in the market among the merchants, with a heart on fire for separation from his son, because no news of the youth had reached him since the day of his departure; and while he was in such case the runner came up and cried, “O my lords, which of you is called the merchant Abd al-Rahman?” They said, “What wouldst thou of him?”; and he said, “I have a letter for him from his son Kamar al-Zaman, whom I left at Al–Arísh.”2 At this Abd al-Rahman rejoiced and his breast was broadened and the merchants rejoiced for him and gave him joy of his son’s safety. Then he opened the letter and read as follows, “From Kamar al-Zaman to the merchant Abd al-Rahman. And after Peace be upon thee and upon all the merchants! An ye ask concerning us, to Allah be the praise and the thanks. Indeed we have sold and bought and gained and are come back in health, wealth and weal.” Whereupon Abd al-Rahman opened the door3 of rejoicing and made banquets and gave feasts and entertainments galore, sending for instruments of music and addressing himself to festivities after rarest fashion. When Kamar al-Zaman came to Al-Sálihiyah,4 his father and all the merchants went forth to meet him, and Abd al-Rahman embraced him and strained him to his bosom and sobbed till he swooned away. When he came to himself he said, “Oh, ’tis a boon day O my son, whereon the Omnipotent Protector hath reunited us with thee!” And he repeated the words of the bard,
“The return of the friend is the best of all boons,
And the joy cup circles o’ morns and noons:
So well come, welcome, fair welcome to thee,
The light of the time and the moon o’ full moons.”
Then, for excess of joy, he poured forth a flood of tears from his eyes and he recited also these two couplets,
“The Moon o’ the Time,5 shows unveilèd light;
And, his journey done, at our door cloth alight:
His locks as the nights of his absence are black
And the sun upstands from his collar’s6 white.”
Then the merchants came up to him and saluting him, saw with him many loads and servants and a travelling litter enclosed in a spacious circle.7 So they took him and carried him home; and when Halimah came forth from the litter, his father held her a seduction to all who beheld her. So they opened her an upper chamber, as it were a treasure from which the talismans had been loosed;8 and when his mother saw her, she was ravished with her and deemed her a Queen of the wives of the Kings. So she rejoiced in her and questioned her; and she answered, “I am wife to thy son;” and the mother rejoined, “Since he is wedded to thee we must make thee a splendid marriage feast, that we may rejoice in thee and in my son.” On this wise it befel her; but as regards the merchant Abd al-Rahman, when the folk had dispersed and each had wended his way, he foregathered with his son and said to him, “O my son, what is this slave-girl thou hast brought with thee and for how much didst thou buy her?”9 Kamar al-Zaman said, “O my father, she is no slave-girl; but ’tis she who was the cause of my going abroad.” Asked his sire, “How so?”; and he answered, “’Tis she whom the Dervish described to us the night he lay with us; for indeed my hopes crave to her from that moment and I sought not to travel save on account of her. The Arabs came out upon me by the way and stripped me and took my money and goods, so that I entered Bassorah alone and there befel me there such and such things;” and he went on to relate to his parent all that had befallen him from commencement to conclusion. Now when he had made an end of his story, his father said to him, “O my son, and after all this didst thou marry her?” “No; but I have promised her marriage.” “Is it thine intent to marry her?” “An thou bid me marry her, I will do so; otherwise I will not marry her.” Thereupon quoth his father, “An thou marry her, I am quit of thee in this world and in the next, and I shall be incensed against thee with sore indignation. How canst thou wed her, seeing that she hath dealt thus with her husband? For, even as she did with her spouse for thy sake, so will she do the like with thee for another’s sake, because she is a traitress and in a traitor there is no trusting. Wherefore an thou disobey me, I shall be wroth with thee; but, an thou give ear to my word, I will seek thee out a girl handsomer than she, who shall be pure and pious, and marry thee to her, though I spend all my substance upon her; and I will make thee a wedding without equal and will glory in thee and in her; for ’tis better that folk should say, Such an one hath married such an one’s daughter, than that they say, He hath wedded a slave-girl sans birth or worth.” And he went on to persuade his son to give up marrying her, by citing in support of his say, proofs, stories, examples, verses and moral instances, till Kamar al-Zaman exclaimed, “O my father, since the case is thus, ’tis not right and proper that I marry her.” And when his father heard him speak on such wise, he kissed him between the eyes, saying, “Thou art my very son, and as I live, O my son, I will assuredly marry thee to a girl who hath not her equal!” Then the merchant set Obayd’s wife and her handmaid in a chamber high up in the house and, before locking the door upon the twain, he appointed a black slave-girl to carry them their meat and drink and he said to Halimah, “Ye shall abide imprisoned in this chamber, thou and thy maid, till I find one who will buy you, when I will sell you to him. An ye resist, I will slay ye both, for thou art a traitress, and there is no good in thee.” Answered she, “Do thy will: I deserve all thou canst do with me.” Then he locked the door upon them and gave his Harim a charge respecting them, saying, “Let none go up to them nor speak with them, save the black slave-girl who shall give them their meat and drink through the casement of the upper chamber.” So she abode with her maid, weeping and repenting her of that which she had done with her spouse. Meanwhile Abd al-Rahman sent out the marriage brokers to look out a maid of birth and worth for his son, and the women ceased not to make search, and as often as they saw one girl, they heard of a fairer than she, till they came to the house of the Shaykh al-Islam10 and saw his daughter. In her they found a virgin whose equal was not in Cairo for beauty and loveliness, symmetry and perfect grace, and she was a thousand fold handsomer than the wife of Obayd. So they told Abd al-Rahman of her and he and the notables repaired to her father and sought her in wedlock of him. Then they wrote out the marriage contract and made her a splendid wedding; after which Abd al-Rahman gave bride feasts and held open house forty days. On the first day, he invited the doctors of the law and they held a splendid nativity11: and on the morrow, he invited all the merchants, and so on during the rest of the forty days, making a banquet every day to one or other class of folk, till he had bidden all the Olema and Emirs and Antients12 and Magistrates, whilst the kettle drums were drummed and the pipes were piped and the merchant sat to greet the guests, with his son by his side, that he might solace himself by gazing on the folk, as they ate from the trays. Each night Abd al-Rahman illuminated the street and the quarter with lamps and there came every one of the mimes and jugglers and mountebanks and played all manner play; and indeed it was a peerless wedding. On the last day he invited the Fakirs, the poor and the needy, far and near, and they flocked in troops and ate, whilst the merchant sat, with his son by his side.13 And among the paupers, behold, entered Shaykh Obayd the jeweller and he was naked and weary and bare on his face the marks of wayfare. When Kamar al-Zaman saw him, he knew him and said to his sire, “Look, O my father, at yonder poor man who is but now come in by the door.” So he looked and saw him clad in worn clothes and on him a patched gown14 worth two dirhams: his face was yellow and he was covered with dust and was as he were an offcast of the pilgrims.15 He was groaning as groaneth a sick man in need, walking with a tottering gait and swaying now to the right and then to the left, and in him was realized his saying who said,16
“Lack-gold abaseth man and cloth his worth away,
Even as the setting sun that pales with ended day.
He passeth ‘mongst the folk and fain would hide his head;
And when alone, he weeps with tears that never stay.
Absent, none taketh heed to him or his concerns;
Present, he hath no part in life or pleasance aye.
By Allah, whenas men with poverty are cursed,
But strangers midst their kin and countrymen are they!”
And the saying of another,
“The poor man fares by everything opposed:
On him to shut the door Earth ne’er shall fail:
Thou seest men abhor him sans a sin,
And foes he finds tho none the cause can tell:
The very dogs, when sighting wealthy man,
Fawn at his feet and wag the flattering tail;
Yet, an some day a pauper loon they sight,
All at him bark and, gnashing fangs, assail.”
And how well quoth a third,
“If generous youth be blessed with luck and wealth,
Displeasures fly his path and perils fleet:
His enviers pimp for him and par’site-wise
E’en without tryst his mistress hastes to meet.
When loud he farts they say ‘How well he sings!’
And when he fizzles17 cry they, ‘Oh, how sweet!’”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Kutr (tract or quarter) Misr,” vulgarly pronounced “Masr.” I may remind the reader that the Assyrians called the Nile-valley “Musur” whence probably the Heb. Misraim a dual form denoting Upper and Lower Egypt which are still distinguished by the Arabs into Sa’id and Misr. The hieroglyphic term is Ta-mera=Land of the Flood; and the Greek Aigyptos is probably derived from Kahi–Ptah (region of the great God Ptah) or Ma Ka Ptah (House of the soul of Ptah). The word “Cops” or “Kopt,” in Egyptian “Kubti” and pronounced “Gubti,” contains the same consonants
2 Now an unimportant frontier fort and village dividing Syria–Palestine from Egypt and famed for the French battle with the Mamelukes (Feb. 19, 1799) and the convention for evacuating Egypt. In the old times it was an important site built upon the “River of Egypt” now a dried up Wady; and it was the chief port of the then populous Najab or South Country. According to Abulfeda it derived its name (the “boothy,” the nest) from a hut built there by the brothers of Joseph when stopped at the frontier by the guards of Pharaoh. But this is usual Jewish infection of history.
3 Arab. “Báb.” which may also=“Chapter” or category. See vol. i., 136 and elsewhere (index). In Egypt “Báb” sometimes means a sepulchral cave hewn in a rock (plur. Bíbán) from the Coptic “Bíb.”
4 i.e. “The Holy,” a town some three marches (60 miles) N. East of Cairo; thus showing the honour done to our unheroic hero. There is also a Sálihlyah quarter or suburb of Damascus famous for its cemetery of holy men, but the facetious Cits change the name to Zálliniyah=causing to stray; in allusion to its Kurdish population. Baron von Hammer reads “le faubourg Adelieh” built by Al–Malik Al–Adil and founded a chronological argument on a clerical error.
5 Kamar al-Zaman; the normal pun on the name; a practice as popular in the East as in the West, and worthy only of a pickpocket in either place.
6 Arab. “Azrár” plur. of “Zirr” and lit. = ‘buttons,” i.e. of his robe collar from which his white neck and face appear shining as the sun.
7 Arab. “Dáirah” the usual inclosure of Kanáts or tent-flaps pitched for privacy during the halt.
8 i.e. it was so richly ornamented that it resembled an enchanted hoard whose spells, hiding it from sight, had been broken by some happy treasure seeker.
9 The merchant who is a “stern parent” and exceedingly ticklish on the Pundonor saw at first sight her servile origin which had escaped the mother. Usually it is the other way.
10 Not the head of the Church, or Chief Pontiff, but the Chief of the Olema and Fukahá (Fákihs or D.D.‘s.) men learned in the Law (divinity). The order is peculiarly Moslem, in fact the succedaneum for the Christian “hierarchy “ an institution never contemplated by the Founder of Christianity. This title shows the modern date of the tale.
11 Arab. “Maulid,” prop. applied to the Birth-feast of Mohammed which begins on the 3rd day of Rabí al-Awwal (third Moslem month) and lasts a week or ten days (according to local custom), usually ending on the 12th and celebrated with salutes of cannon, circumcision feasts. marriage banquets. Zikr-litanies, perfections of the Koran and all manner of solemn festivities including the “powder-play” (Láb al-Bárút) in the wilder corners of Al–Islam. It is also applied to the birth-festivals of great Santons (as Ahmad al — Badawi) for which see Lane M. E. chaps. xxiv. In the text it is used like the Span. “Funcion” or the Hind “Tamáshá,” any great occasion of merry-making.
12 Arab. “Sanájik” Plur. of Sanjak (Turk.) = a banner, also applied to the bearer (ensign or cornet) and to a military rank mostly corresponding with Bey or Colonel.
13 I have followed Mr. Payne’s ordering of the text which, both in the Mac. and Bull. Edits., is wholly inconsequent and has not the excuse of rhyme.
14 Arab. “Jilbáb,” a long coarse veil or gown which in Barbary becomes a “Jallábiyah,” in a striped and hooded cloak of woollen stuff.
15 i.e. a broken down pilgrim left to die on the road.
16 These lines have occurred in vol. i. 272. I quote Mr. Payne.
17 Note the difference between “Zirt,” the loud crepitus and “Faswah” the susurrus which Captain Grose in his quaint “Lexicum Balatronicum,” calls a “fice” or a “foyse” (from the Arabic Fas, faswah?).
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when his son said to Abd al-Rahman, “Look at yonder pauper!” he asked, “O my son, who is this?” And Kamar al-Zaman answered, “This is Master Obayd the jeweller, husband of the woman who is imprisoned with us.” Quoth Abd al-Rahman, “Is this he of whom thou toldest me?”; and quoth his son, “Yes; and indeed I wot him right well.” Now the manner of Obayd’s coming thither was on this wise. When he had farewelled Kamar al-Zaman, he went to his shop and thence going home, laid his hand on the door whereupon it opened and he entered and found neither his wife nor the slave-girl, but saw the house in sorriest plight, quoting in mute speech his saying who said,1
“The chambers were like a bee hive well stocked:
When their bees quitted it, they became empty.”
When he saw the house void, he turned right and left and presently went round about the place, like a madman, but came upon no one. Then he opened the door of his treasure closet, but found therein naught of his money nor his hoards; whereupon he recovered from the intoxication of fancy and shook off his infatuation and knew that it was his wife herself who had turned the tables upon him and outwitted him with her wiles. He wept for that which had befallen him, but kept his affair secret, so none of his foes might exult over him nor any of his friends be troubled, knowing that, if he disclosed his secret, it would bring him naught but dishonour and contumely from the folk; wherefore he said in him self, “O Obayd, hide that which hath betided thee of affliction and ruination; it behoveth thee to do in accordance with his saying who said,
‘If a man’s breast with bane he hides be straitenèd,
The breast that tells its hidden bale is straiter still.’ ”
Then he locked up his house and, making for his shop, gave it in charge of one of his apprentices to whom said he, “My friend the young merchant hath invited me to accompany him to Cairo, for solacing ourselves with the sight of the city, and sweareth that he will not march except he carry us with him, me and my wife. So, O my son, I make thee my steward in the shop, and if the King ask for me, say thou to him, ‘He is gone with his Harim to the Holy House of Allah.’”2 Then he sold some of his effects and bought camels and mules and Mamelukes, together with a slave- girl,3 and placing her in a litter, set out from Bassorah after ten days. His friends farewelled him and none doubted but that he had taken his wife and gone on the Pilgrimage, and the folk rejoiced in this, for that Allah had delivered them from being shut up in the mosques and houses every Friday. Quoth some of them, “Allah grant he may never return to Bassorah, so we may no more be boxed up in the mosques and houses every Friday!”; for that this usage had caused the people of Bassorah exceeding vexation. Quoth another, “Methinks he will not return from this journey, by reason of the much praying of the people of Bassorah against him.”4 And yet another, “An he return, ’twill not be but in reversed case.”5 So the folk rejoiced with exceeding joy in the jeweller’s departure, after they had been in mighty great chagrin, and even their cats and dogs were comforted. When Friday came round, however, the crier proclaimed as usual that the people should repair to the mosques two hours before prayer time or else hide themselves in their houses, together with their cats and dogs; whereat their breasts were straitened and they assembled in general assembly and betaking themselves to the King’s divan, stood between his hands and said, “O King of the age, the jeweller hath taken his Harim and departed on the pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah: so the cause of our restrains hath ceased to be, and why therefore are we now shut up?” Quoth the King, “How came this traitor to depart without telling me? But, when he cometh back from his journey, all will not be save well6: so go ye to your shops and sell and buy, for this vexation is removed from you.” Thus far concerning the King and the Bassorites; but as for the jeweller, he fared on ten days’ journey, and as he drew near Baghdad, there befel him that which had befallen Kamar al-Zaman, before his entering Bassorah; for the Arabs7 came out upon him and stripped him and took all he had and he escaped only by feigning himself dead. As soon as they were gone, he rose and fared on, naked as he was, till he came to a village, where Allah inclined to him the hearts of certain kindly folk, who covered his shame with some old clothes; and he asked his way, begging from town to town, till he reached the city of Cairo the God guarded. There, burning with hunger, he went about alms seeking in the market streets, till one of the townsfolk said to him, “O poor man, off with thee to the house of the wedding festival and eat and drink; for to day there is open table for paupers and strangers.” Quoth he, “I know not the way thither”: and quoth the other, “Follow me and I will show it to thee.” He followed him, till he brought him to the house of Abd al-Rahman and said to him, “This is the house of the wedding; enter and fear not, for there is no doorkeeper at the door of the festival.” Accordingly he entered and Kamar al-Zaman knew him and told his sire who said, “O my son, leave him at this present: belike he is anhungered: so let him eat his sufficiency and recover himself and after we will send for him.” So they waited till Obayd had eaten his fill and washed his hands and drunk coffee and sherbets of sugar flavoured with musk and ambergris and was about to go out, when Abd al-Rahman sent after him a page who said to him, “Come, O stranger, and speak with the merchant Abd al-Rahman.” “Who is he?” asked Obayd; and the man answered, “He is the master of the feast.” Thereupon the jeweller turned back, thinking that he meant to give him a gift, and coming up to Abd al-Rahman, saw his friend Kamar al-Zaman and went nigh to lose his senses for shame before him. But Kamar al-Zaman rose to him and embracing him, saluted him with the salam, and they both wept with sore weeping. Then he seated him by his side and Abd al-Rahman said to his son, “O destitute of good taste, this is no way to receive friends! Send him first to the Hammam and despatch after him a suit of clothes of the choicest, worth a thousand dinars.”8 Accordingly they carried him to the bath, where they washed his body and clad him in a costly suit, and he became as he were Consul of the Merchants. Meanwhile the bystanders questioned Kamar al-Zaman of him, saying, “Who is this and whence knowest thou him?” Quoth he, “This is my friend, who lodged me in his house and to whom I am indebted for favours without number, for that he entreated me with exceeding kindness. He is a man of competence and condition and by trade a jeweller, in which craft he hath no equal. The King of Bassorah loveth him dearly and holdeth him in high honour and his word is law with him.” And he went on to enlarge before them on his praises, saying, “Verily, he did with me thus and thus and I have shame of him and know not how to requite him his generous dealing with me.” Nor did he leave to extol him, till his worth was magnified to the bystanders and he became venerable in their eyes; so they said, “We will all do him his due and honour him for thy sake. But we would fain know the reason why he hath departed his native land and the cause of his coming hither and what Allah hath done with him, that he is reduced to this plight?” Replied Kamar al-Zaman, “O folk, marvel not, for a son of Adam is still subject to Fate and Fortune, and what while he abideth in this world, he is not safe from calamities. Indeed he spake truly who said these couplets,
The world tears man to shreds, so be thou not
Of those whom lure of rank and title draws:
Nay; ‘ware of slips and turn from sin aside
And ken that bane and bale are worldly laws:
How oft high Fortune falls by least mishap
And all things bear inbred of change a cause!’
Know that I entered Bassorah in yet iller case and worse distress than this man, for that he entered Cairo with his shame hidden by rags; but I indeed came into his town with my nakedness uncovered, one hand behind and another before; and none availed me but Allah and this dear man. Now the reason of this was that the Arabs stripped me and took my camels and mules and loads and slaughtered my pages and serving men; but I lay down among the slain and they thought that I was dead, so they went away and left me. Then I arose and walked on, mother naked, till I came to Bassorah where this man met me and clothed me and lodged me in his house, he also furnished me with money, and all I have brought back with me I owe to none save to Allah’s goodness and his goodness. When I departed, he gave me great store of wealth and I returned to the city of my birth with a heart at ease. I left him in competence and condition, and haply there hath befallen him some bale of the banes of Time, that hath forced him to quit his kinsfolk and country, and there happened to him by the way the like of what happened to me. There is nothing strange in this; but now it behoveth me to requite him his noble dealing with me and do according to the saying of him who saith,
‘O who praises” Time with the fairest appraise,
Knowest thou what Time hath made and unmade?
What thou dost at least be it kindly done,9
For with pay he pays shall man be repaid.’”
As they were talking and telling the tale, behold, up came Obayd as he were Consul10 of the Merchants; whereupon they all rose to salute him and seated him in the place of honour. Then said Kamar al-Zaman to him, “O my friend, verily, thy day11 is blessed and fortunate! There is no need to relate to me a thing that befel me before thee. If the Arabs have stripped thee and robbed thee of thy wealth, verily our money is the ransom of our bodies, so let not thy soul be troubled; for I entered thy city naked and thou clothedst me and entreatedst me generously, and I owe thee many a kindness. But I will requite thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
1 These lines have occurred in Night dcxix, vol. vi. 246; where the pun on Khaliyah is explained. I quote Lane.
2 The usual pretext of “God bizness,” as the Comoro men call it. For the title of the Ka’abah see my Pilgrimage vol. iii. 149.
3 This was in order to travel as a respectable man, he could also send the girl as a spy into the different Harims to learn news of the lady who had eloped.
4 A polite form of alluding to their cursing him.
5 i.e. on account of the King taking offence at his unceremonious departure.
6 i.e. It will be the worse for him.
7 I would here remind the reader that “‘Arabiyyun” pl. ‘Urb is a man of pure Arab race, whether of the Ahl al-Madar (=people of mortar, i.e. citizens) or Ahl al-Wabar (=tents of goat or camel’s hair); whereas “A’rábiyyun” pl. A’ráb is one who dwells in the Desert whether Arab or not. Hence the verse:—
“They name us Al-A’ráb but Al-‘Urb is our name.”
8 I would remind the reader that the Dinár is the golden denarius (or solidus) of Eastern Rome while the Dirham is the silver denarius, whence denier, danaro, dínheiro, etc., etc. The oldest diners date from A.H. 91–92 (=714–15) and we find the following description of one struck in A.H. 96 by Al–Walid the VI. Ommiade:—
Obverse:
Area. “There is no iláh but Allah: He is one: He hath no partner.”
Circle. “Mohammed is the Messenger of Allah who hath sent him with the true Guidance and Religion that he manifest it above all other Creeds.”
Reverse:
Area. “Allah is one: Allah is Eternal: He begetteth not, nor is He begot.”
Circle. “Bismillah: This Dinar was struck anno 96.”
See “‘Ilâm-en-Nas” (warnings for Folk) a pleasant little volume by Mr. Godfrey Clarke (London, King and Co., 1873), mostly consisting of the minor tales from The Nights especially this group between Nights ccxlvii. and cdlxi.; but rendered valuable by the annotations of my old friend, the late Frederick Ayrton.
9 The reader will note the persistency with which the duty of universal benevolence is preached.
10 Arab. from Pers. “Shah-bander”: see vol. iv. 29.
11 i.e. of thy coming, a popular compliment.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-Zaman said to Master Obayd the jeweller, “Verily I entered thy city naked and thou clothedst me and I owe thee many a kindness. But I will requite thee and do with thee even as thou didst with me; nay, more: so be of good cheer and eyes clear of tear.” And he went on to soothe him and hinder him from speech, lest he should name his wife and what she had done with him nor did he cease to ply him with saws and moral instances and verses and conceits and stories and legends and console him, till the jeweller saw his drift and took the hint and kept silence concerning the past, diverting himself with the tales and rare anecdotes he heard and repeating in himself these lines,
“On the brow of the World is a writ; an thereon thou look,
Its contents will compel thine eyes tears of blood to rain:
For the World never handed to humans a cup with its right,
But with left it compelled them a beaker of ruin to drain.”
Then Kamar al-Zaman and his father took Obayd and carrying him into the saloon of the Harim, shut themselves up with him; and Abd al-Rahman said to him, “We did not hinder thee from speaking before the folk, but for fear of dishonour to thee and to us: but now we are private; so tell me all that hath passed between thee and thy wife and my son.” So he told him all, from beginning to end, and when he had made an end of his story, Abd al-Rahman asked him, “Was the fault with my son or with thy wife?” He answered, “By Allah, thy son was not to blame, for men must needs lust after women, and ’tis the bounder duty of women to defend themselves from men. So the sin lieth with my wife, who played me false and did with me these deeds.”1 Then Abd al-Rahman arose and taking his son aside, said to him, “O my son, we have proved his wife and know her to be a traitress; and now I mean to prove him and see if he be a man of honour and manliness, or a wittol.”2 “How so?” asked Kamar al-Zaman; and Abd al-Rahman answered, “I mean to urge him to make peace with his wife, and if he consent thereto and forgive her, I will smite him with a sword and slay him and kill her after, her and her maid, for there is no good in the life of a cuckold and a queen;3 but, if he turn from her with aversion I will marry him to thy sister and give him more of wealth than that thou tookest from him.” Then he went back to Obayd and said to him, “O master, verily, the commerce of women requireth patience and magnanimity and whoso loveth them hath need of fortitude, for that they order themselves viper wise towards men and evilly entreat them, by reason of their superiority over them in beauty and loveliness: wherefore they magnify themselves and belittle men. This is notably the case when their husbands show them affection; for then they requite them with hauteur and coquetry and harsh dealing of all kinds. But, if a man be wroth whenever he seeth in his wife aught that offendeth him, there can be no fellowship between them; nor can any hit it off with them who is not magnanimous and long suffering; and unless a man bear with his wife and requite her foul doing with forgiveness, he shall get no good of her conversation. Indeed, it hath been said of them, ‘Were they in the sky, the necks of men would incline themwards’; and he who hath the power and pardoneth, his reward is with Allah. Now this woman is thy wife and thy companion and she hath long consorted with thee; wherefore it behoveth that thou entreat her with indulgence which in fellowship is of the essentials of success. Furthermore, women fail in wit and Faith,4 and if she have sinned, she repenteth and Inshallah she will not again return to that which she whilome did. So ’tis my rede that thou make peace with her and I will restore thee more than the good she took; and if it please thee to abide with me, thou art welcome, thou and she, and ye shall see naught but what shall joy you both; but, an thou seek to, return to thine own land. For that which falleth out between a man and his wife is manifold, and it behoveth thee to be indulgent and not take the way of the violent.” Said the jeweller, “O my lord, and where is my wife?” and said Abd al-Rahman, “She is in that upper chamber, go up to her and be easy with her, for my sake, and trouble her not; for, when my son brought her hither, he would have married her, but I forbade him from her and shut her up in yonder room, and locked the door upon her saying in myself, ‘Haply her husband will come and I will hand her over to him safe; for she is fair of favour, and when a woman is like unto this one, it may not be that her husband will let her go.’ What I counted on is come about and praised be Allah Almighty for thy reunion with thy wife! As for my son, I have sought him another woman in marriage and have married him to her: these banquets and rejoicings are for his wedding, and to-night I bring him to his bride. So here is the key of the chamber where thy wife is: take it and open the door and go in to her and her handmaid and be buxom with her. There shall be brought you meat and drink and thou shalt not come down from her till thou have had thy fill of her.” Cried Obayd, “May Allah requite thee for me with all good, O my lord!” and taking the key, went up, rejoicing. The other thought his words had pleased him and that he consented thereto; so he took the sword and following him unseen, stood to espy what should happen between him and his wife. This is how it fared with the merchant Abd al-Rahman; but as for the jeweller, when he came to the chamber door, he heard his wife weeping with sore weeping for that Kamar al-Zaman had married another than her, and the handmaid saying to her, “O my lady, how often have I warned thee and said, ‘Thou wilt get no good of this youth: so do thou leave his company.’ But thou heededst not my words and spoiledst thy husband of all his goods and gayest them to him. After the which thou forsookest thy place, of thine fondness and infatuation for him, and camest with him to this country. And now he hath cast thee out from his thought and married another and hath made the issue of thy foolish fancy for him to be durance vile.” Cried Halimah, “Be silent, O accursed! Though he be married to another, yet some day needs must I occur to his thought. I cannot forget the nights I have spent in his company and in any case I console myself with his saying who said,
‘O my lords, shall he to your mind occur
Who recurs to you only sans other mate?
Grant Heaven you ne’er shall forget his state
Who for state of you forgot own estate!’
It cannot be but he will bethink him of my affect and converse and ask for me, wherefore I will not turn from loving him nor change from passion for him, though I perish in prison; for he is my love and my leach5 and my reliance is on him that he will yet return to me and deal fondly with me.” When the jeweller heard his wife’s words, he went in to her and said to her, “O traitress, thy hope in him is as the hope of Iblis6 in Heaven. All these vices were in thee and I knew not thereof; for, had I been ware of one single vice, I had not kept thee with me an hour. But now I am certified of this in thee, it behoveth me to do thee die although they put me to death for thee, O traitress!” and he clutched her with both hands and repeated these two couplets,
“O fair ones forth ye cast my faithful love
With sin, nor had ye aught regard for right:
How long I fondly clung to you, but now
My love is loathing and I hate your sight.”
Then he pressed hardly upon her windpipe and brake her neck, whereupon her handmaid cried out “Alas, my mistress!” Said he, “O harlot, ’tis thou who art to blame for all this, for that thou knewest this evil inclination to be in her and toldest me not.”7 Then he seized upon her and strangled her. All this happened while Abd al-Rahman stood, brand in hand, behind the door espying with his eyes and hearing with his ears. Now when Obayd the jeweller had done this, apprehension came upon him and he feared the issue of his affair and said to himself, “As soon as the merchant learneth that I have killed them in his house, he will surely slay me; yet I beseech Allah that He appoint the taking of my life to be while I am in the True Belief!” And he abode bewildered about his case and knew not what to do, but, as he was thus behold, in came Abd al-Rahman from his lurking place without the door and said to him, “No harm shall befal thee, for indeed thou deserves” safety. See this sword in my hand. ’Twas in my mind to slay thee, hadst thou made peace with her and restored her to favour, and I would also have slain her and the maid. But since thou hast done this deed, welcome to thee and again welcome! And I will reward thee by marrying thee to my daughter, Kamar al-Zaman’s sister.” Then he carried him down and sent for the woman who washed the dead: whereupon it was bruited abroad that Kamar al-Zaman had brought with him two slave-girls from Bassorah and that both had deceased. So the people began to condole with him saying, “May thy head live!” and “May Allah compensate thee!” And they washed and shrouded them and buried them, and none knew the truth of the matter. Then Abd al-Rahman sent for the Shaykh al-Islam and all the notables and said, “O Shaykh, draw up the contract of marriage between my daughter Kaukab al-Salah8 and Master Obayd the jeweller and set down that her dowry hath been paid to me in full.” So he wrote out the contract and Abd al-Rahman gave the company to drink of sherbets, and they made one wedding festival for the two brides the daughter of the Shaykh al-Islam and Kamar al-Zaman’s sister; and paraded them in one litter on one and the same night; after which they carried Kamar al-Zaman and Obayd in procession together and brought them in to their brides.9 When the jeweller went in to Abd al-Rahman’s daughter, he found her handsomer than Halimah and a thousand fold lovelier. So he took her maidenhead and on the morrow, he went to the Hammam with Kamar al-Zaman. Then he abode with them awhile in pleasance and joyance, after which he began to yearn for his native land; so he went in to Abd al-Rahman and said to him, “O uncle, I long for my own country, for I have there estates and effects, which I left in charge of one of my prentices; and I am minded to journey thither that I may sell my properties and return to thee. So wilt thou give me leave to go to my country for that purpose?” Answered the merchant, “O my son, I give thee leave to do this and there be no fault in thee or blame to thee for these words, for ‘Love of mother land is a part of Religion’; and he who hath not good in his own country hath none in other folks’ country. But, haply, an thou depart without thy wife, when thou art once come to thy native place, it may seem good to thee to settle there, and thou wilt be perplexed between returning to thy wife and sojourning in thine own home; so it were the righter rede that thou carry thy wife with thee; and after, an thou desire to return to us, return and welcome to you both; for we are folk who know not divorce and no woman of us marrieth twice, nor do we lightly discard a man.”10 Quoth Obayd, “Uncle, I fear me thy daughter will not consent to journey with me to my own country.” Replied Abd al-Rahman, “O my son, we have no women amongst us who gainsay their spouses, nor know we a wife who is wroth with her man.” The jeweller cried, “Allah bless you and your women!” and going in to his wife, said to her, “I am minded to go to my country: what sayst thou?” Quoth she, “Indeed, my sire had the ordering of me, whilst I was a maid, and when I married, the ordering all passed into the hands of my lord and master, nor will I gainsay him.” Quoth Obayd, “Allah bless thee and thy father, and have mercy on the womb that bare thee and the loins that begat thee!” Then he cut his thongs11 and applied himself to making ready for his journey. His father-in-law gave him much good and they took leave each of other, after which tile jeweller and his wife journeyed on without ceasing, till they reached Bassorah where his kinsmen and comrades came out to meet him, doubting not but that he had been in Al–Hijaz. Some rejoiced at his return, whilst others were vexed, and the folk said one to another, “Now will he straiten us again every Friday, as before, and we shall be shut up in the mosques and houses, even to our cats and our dogs.” On such wise it fared with him; but as regards the King of Bassorah, when he heard of his return, he was wroth with him; and sending for him, upbraided him and said to him, “Why didst thou depart, without letting me know of thy departure? Was I unable to give thee somewhat wherewith thou mightest have succoured thyself in thy pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah?” Replied the jeweller, “Pardon, O my lord! By Allah, I went not on the pilgrimage! but there have befallen me such and such things.” Then he told him all that had befallen him with his wife and with Abd al-Rahman of Cairo and how the merchant had given him his daughter to wife, ending with these words, “And I have brought her to Bassorah.” Said the King, “By the Lord, did I not fear Allah the Most High, I would slay thee and marry this noble lady after thy death, though I spent on her mints of money, because she befitteth none but Kings. But Allah hath appointed her of thy portion and may He bless thee in her! So look thou use her well.” Then he bestowed largesse on the jeweller, who went out from before him and abode with his wife five years, after which he was admitted to the mercy of the Almighty. Presently the King sought his widow in wedlock; but she refused, saying, “O King, never among my kindred was a woman who married again after her husband’s death; wherefore I will never take another husband, nor will I marry thee, no, though thou kill me.” Then he sent to her one who said, “Dost thou seek to go to thy native land?” And she answered, “An thou do good, thou shalt be requited therewith.” So he collected for her all the jeweller’s wealth and added unto her of his own, after the measure of his degree. Lastly he sent with her one of his Wazirs, a man famous for goodness and piety, and an escort of five hundred horse, who journeyed with her, till they brought her to her father; and in his home she abode, without marrying again, till she died and they died all. So, if this woman would not consent to replace her dead husband with a Sultan, how shall she be compared with one who replaced her husband, whilst he was yet alive, with a youth of unknown extraction and condition, and especially when this was in lewd carriage and not by way of lawful marriage? So he who deemeth all women alike,12 there is no remedy for the disease of his insanity. And glory be to Him to whom belongeth the empire of the Seen and the Unseen and He is the Living, who dieth not! And among the tales they tell, O auspicious King, is one of
1 This is the doctrine of the universal East; and it is true concerning wives and widows, not girls when innocent or rather ignorant. According to Western ideas Kamar al-Zaman was a young scoundrel of the darkest dye whose only excuses were his age, his inexperience and his passions.
2 Arab. “Dayyús” prop. = a man who pimps for his own wife and in this sense constantly occurring in conversation.
3 This is taking the law into one’s own hands with a witness, yet amongst races who preserve the Pundonor in full and pristine force, e.g. the Afghans and the Persian Iliyat, the killing so far from being considered murder or even justifiable homicide would be highly commended by public opinion.
4 Arab. “Nákisátu’aklin wa dín”: the words are attributed to the Prophet whom we find saying, “Verily in your wives and children ye have an enemy, wherefore beware of them” (Koran lxiv. 14): compare 1 Cor. vii. 28, 32. But Maître Jehan de Meung went farther,
“Toutes êtez, serez ou fûses
De faict ou de volonté, putes.”
5 Arab. “Habíbí wa tabíbí,” the common jingle.
6 Iblis and his connection with Diabolos has been noticed in vol. i. 13. The word is foreign as well as a P.N. and therefore is imperfectly declined, although some authorities deduce it from “ablasa”=he despaired (of Allah’s mercy). Others call him Al-Háris (the Lion) hence Eve’s first-born was named in his honour Abd al-Harts. His angelic name was Azázíl before he sinned by refusing to prostrate himself to Adam, as Allah had commanded the heavenly host for a trial of faith, not to worship the first man, but to make him a Keblah or direction of prayer addressed to the Almighty. Hence he was ejected from Heaven and became the arch enemy of mankind (Koran xviii. 48). He was an angel but related to the Jinn: Al–Bayzáwi, however (on Koran ii. 82), opines that angelic by nature he became a Jinn by act. Ibn Abbas held that he belonged to an order of angels who are called Jinn and begot issue as do the nasnás, the Ghúl and the Kutrub which, however are male and female, like the pre-Adamite manwoman of Genesis, the “bi-une” of our modern days. For this subject see Terminal Essay.
7 As usual in the East and in the West the husband was the last to hear of his wife’s ill conduct. But even Othello did not kill Emilia.
8 i.e. Star of the Morning: the first word occurs in Bar Cokba Barchocheba=Son of the Star, i.e., which was to come out of Jacob (Numbers xxiv. 17). The root, which does not occur in Heb., is Kaukab to thine. This Rabbi Akilah was also called Bar Cozla= Son of the Lie.
9 Here some excision has been judged advisable as the names of the bridegrooms and the brides recur with damnable iteration.
10 See the note by Lane’s Shaykh at the beginning of the tale. The contrast between the vicious wife of servile origin and the virtuous wife of noble birth is fondly dwelt upon but not exaggerated.
11 i.e. those of his water skins for the journey, which as usual required patching and supplying with fresh handles after long lying dry.
12 A popular saying also applied to men. It is usually accompanied with showing the open hand and a reference to the size of the fingers. I find this story most interesting from an anthropological point of view; suggesting how differently various races regard the subject of adultery. In Northern Europe the burden is thrown most unjustly upon the man, the woman who tempts him being a secondary consideration; and in England he is absurdly termed “a seducer.” In former times he was “paraded” or “called out,” now he is called up for damages, a truly ignoble and shopkeeper-like mode of treating a high offence against private property and public morality. In Anglo–America, where English feeling is exaggerated, the lover is revolver’d and the woman is left unpunished. On the other hand, amongst Eastern and especially Moslem peoples, the woman is cut down and scant reckoning is taken from the man. This more sensible procedure has struck firm root amongst the nations of Southern Europe where the husband kills the lover only when he still loves his wife and lover like is furious at her affection being alienated.
Practically throughout the civilised world there are only two ways of treating women, Moslems keep them close, defend them from all kinds of temptations and if they go wrong kill them. Christians place them upon a pedestal, the observed of all observers, expose them to every danger and if they fall, accuse and abuse them instead of themselves. And England is so grandly logical that her law, under certain circumstances, holds that Mrs. A. has committed adultery with Mr. B. but Mr. B. has not committed adultery with Mrs. A. Can any absurdity be more absurd? Only “summum jus, summa injuria.” See my Terminal Essay. I shall have more to say upon this curious subject, the treatment of women who can be thoroughly guarded only by two things, firstly their hearts and secondly by the “Spanish Padlock.”
The Caliph Harun al-Rashid was one day examining the tributes of his various provinces and viceroyalties, when he observed that the contributions of all the countries and regions had come into the treasury, except that of Bassorah which had not arrived that year. So he held a Divan because of this and said, “Hither to me with the Wazir Ja’afar;” and when they brought him into the presence he thus bespoke him, “The tributes of all the provinces have come into the treasury, save that of Bassorah, no part whereof hath arrived.” Ja’afar replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, belike there hath befallen the governor of Bassorah something that hath diverted him from sending the tribute.” Quoth the Caliph, “The time of the coming of the tribute was twenty days ago; what then, can be his excuse for that, in this time, he hath neither sent it nor sent to show cause for not doing so?” And quoth the Minister, “O Commander of the Faithful, if it please thee, we will send him a messenger. Rejoined the Caliph, “Send him Abu Ishak al-Mausili,2 the boon companion,” and Ja’afar, “Hearkening and obedience to Allah and to thee, O Prince of True Believers!” Then he returned to his house and summoning Abu Ishak, wrote him a royal writ and said to him, Go to Abdullah bin Fazil, Viceroy of Bassorah, and see what hath diverted him from sending the tribute. If it be ready, do thou receive it from him in full and bring it to me in haste, for the Caliph hath examined the tributes of the provinces and findeth that they are all come in, except that of Bassorah: but an thou see that it is not ready and he make an excuse to thee, bring him back with thee, that he may report his excuse to the Caliph with his own tongue.” Answered Abu Ishak, “I hear and I obey;” and taking with him five thousand horse of Ja’afar’s host set out for Bassorah. Now when Abdullah bin Fazil heard of his approach, he went out to meet him with his troops, and led him into the city and carried him to his palace, whilst the escort encamped without the city walls, where he appointed to them all whereof they stood in need. So Abu Ishak entered the audience-chamber and sitting down on the throne, seated the governor beside himself, whilst the notables sat round him, according to their several degrees. After salutation with the salam Abdullah bin Fazil said to him “O my lord, is there for thy coming to us any cause?;” and said Abu Ishak, “Yes, I come to seek the tribute; for the Caliph enquireth of it and the time of its coming is gone by.” Rejoined Abdullah bin Fazil, “O my lord, would Heaven thou hadst not wearied thyself nor taken upon thyself the hardships of the journey! For the tribute is ready in full tale and complete, and I purpose to despatch it to-morrow. But, since thou art come, I will entrust it to thee, after I have entertained thee three days; and on the fourth day I will set the tribute between thine hands. But it behoveth us now to offer thee a present in part requital of thy kindness and the goodness of the Commander of the Faithful.” “There is no harm in that,” said Abu Ishak. So Abdullah bin Fazil dismissed the Divan and carrying him into a saloon that had not its match, bade set a tray of food before him and his companions. They ate and drank and made merry and enjoyed themselves; after which the tray was removed and there came coffee and sherbets. They sat conversing till a third part of the night was past, when they spread for Abu Ishak bedding on an ivory couch inlaid with gold glittering sheeny. So he lay down and the viceroy lay down beside him on another couch; but wakefulness possessed Abu Ishak and he fell to meditating on the metres of prosody and poetical composition, for that he was one of the primest of the Caliph’s boon-companions and he had a mighty fine fore-arm3 in producing verses and pleasant stories; nor did he leave to lie awake improvising poetry till half the night was past. Presently, behold, Abdullah bin Fazil arose, and girding his middle, opened a locker,4 whence he brought out a whip; then, taking a lighted waxen taper, he went forth by the door of the saloon. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lane owns that this is “one of the most entertaining tales in the work,” but he omits it “because its chief and best portion is essentially the same as the story of the First of the Three Ladies of Baghdad.” The truth is he was straitened for space by his publisher and thus compelled to cut out some of the best stories in The Nights.
2 i.e. Ibrahim of Mosul, the musician poet often mentioned in The Nights. I must again warn the reader that the name is pronounced Is-hák (like Isaac with a central aspirate) not Ishák. This is not unnecessary when we hear Tait-shill for Tait’s hill and “Frederick-shall” for Friedrich, shall.
3 i.e. He was a proficient, an adept.
4 Arab. from Pers. Dúláb=a waterwheel, a buttery, a cupboard.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abdullah bin Fazil went forth by the door of the saloon deeming Abu Ishak asleep, the Caliph’s cup-companion, seeing this, marvelled and said in himself, “Whither wendeth Abdullah bin Fazil with that whip? Perhaps he is minded to punish some body. But needs must I follow him and see what he will do this night.” So he arose and went out after him softly, very softly, that he might not be seen and presently saw him open a closet and take thence a tray containing four dishes of meat and bread and a gugglet of water. Then he went on, carrying the tray and secretly followed by Abu Ishak, till he came to another saloon and entered, whilst the cup-companion stood behind the door and, looking through the chink, saw a spacious saloon, furnished with the richest furniture and having in its midst a couch of ivory plated with gold glittering sheeny, to which two dogs were made fast with chains of gold. Then Abdullah set down the tray in a comer and tucking up his sleeves, loosed the first dog, which began to struggle in his hands and put its muzzle to the floor, as it would kiss the ground before him, whining the while in a weak voice. Abdullah tied its paws behind its back and throwing it on the ground, drew forth the whip and beat it with a painful beating and a pitiless. The dog struggled, but could not get free, and Abdullah ceased not to beat it with the same whip till it left groaning and lay without consciousness. Then he took it and tied it up in its place, and unbinding the second dog, did with him as he had done with the first; after which he pulled out a kerchief and fell to wiping away their tears and comforting them, saying, “Bear me not malice; for by Allah, this is not of my will, nor is it easy to me! But it may be Allah will grant you relief from this strait and issue from your affliction.” And he prayed for the twain what while Abu Ishak the cup-companion stood hearkening with his ears and espying with his eyes, and indeed he marvelled at his case. Then Abdullah brought the dogs the tray of food and fell to morselling them with his own hand, till they had enough, when he wiped their muzzles and lifting up the gugglet, gave them to drink; after which he took up the tray, gugglet and candle and made for the door. But Abu Ishak forewent him and making his way back to his couch, lay down; so that he saw him not; neither knew that he had walked behind him and watched him. Then the governor replaced the tray and the gugglet in the closet and returning to the saloon, opened the locker and laid the whip in its place; after which he doffed his clothes and lay down. But Abu Ishak passed the rest of that night pondering this affair neither did sleep visit him for excess of wonderment, and he ceased not to say in himself, “I wonder what can be the meaning of this!” Nor did he leave wondering till day break, when they arose and prayed the dawn-prayer. Then they set the breakfast1 before them and they ate and drank coffee, after which they went out to the divan. Now Abu Ishak’s thought was occupied with this mystery all day long but he concealed the matter and questioned not Abdullah thereof. Next night, he again followed the governor and saw him do with the two dogs as on the previous night, first beating them and then making his peace with them and giving them to eat and to drink; and so also he did the third night. On the fourth day he brought the tribute to Abu Ishak who took it and departed, without opening the matter to him. He fared on, without ceasing, till he came to Baghdad, where he delivered the tribute to the Caliph, who questioned him of the cause of its delay. Replied he, “O Commander of the Faithful, I found that the governor of Bassorah had made ready the tribute and was about to despatch it; and I delayed a day, it would have met me on the road. But, O Prince of True Believers, I had a wondrous adventure with Abdullah bin Fazil; never in my life saw I its like.” “And what was it, O Abu Ishak?” asked the Caliph. So he replied, “I saw such and such;” and, brief, acquainted him with that which the governor had done with the two dogs, adding, “After such fashion, I saw him do three successive nights, first beating the dogs, then making his peace with them and comforting them and giving them to eat and drink, I watching him, and he seeing me not.” Asked the Caliph, “Didst thou question him of the cause of this?”; and the other answered, “No, as thy head liveth, O Commander of the Faithful.” Then said Al–Rashid, “O Abu Ishak, I command thee to return to Bassorah and bring me Abdullah bin Fazil and the two dogs.” Quoth he, “O Commander of the Faithful, excuse me from this; for indeed Abdullah entertained me with exceedingly hospitable entertainment and I became ware of this case with chance undesigned and acquainted thee therewith. So how can I go back to him and bring him to thee? Verily, if I return to him, I shall find me no face for shame of him; wherefore ’twere meet that thou send him another than myself, with a letter under thine own hand, and he shall bring him to thee, him and the two dogs.” But quoth the Caliph, “If I send him other than thyself, peradventure he will deny the whole affair and say, ‘I’ve no dogs.’ But if I send thee and thou say to him, ‘I saw them with mine own eyes,’ he will not be able to deny that. Wherefore nothing will serve but that thou go and fetch him and the two dogs; otherwise I will surely slay thee.”2 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Futúr,” the chhotí házirí of Anglo–India or breakfast proper, eaten by Moslems immediately after the dawn- prayer except in Ramázán. Amongst sensible people it is a substantial meal of bread and boiled beans, eggs, cheese, curded milk and the pastry called fatírah, followed by coffee and a pipe. See Lane M. E. chapt. v. and my Pilgrimage ii. 48.
2 This “off-with-his-head” style must not be understood literally. As I have noted, it is intended by the writer to show the Kingship and the majesty of the “Vicar of Allah.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid said to Abu Ishak, “Nothing will serve but that thou go and fetch him and the two dogs; otherwise I will surely slay thee.” Abu Ishak replied, “Hearing and obeying, O Commander of the Faithful: Allah is our aidance and good is the Agent. He spake sooth who said, ‘Man’s wrong is from the tongue;’1 and ’tis I who sinned against myself in telling thee. But write me a royal rescript2 and I will go to him and bring him back to thee.” So the Caliph gave him an autograph and he took it and repaired to Bassorah. Seeing him come in the governor said, “Allah forfend us from the mischief of thy return, O Abu Ishak! How cometh it I see thee return in haste? Peradventure the tribute is deficient and the Caliph will not accept it?” Answered Abu Ishak, “O Emir Abdullah, my return is not on account of the deficiency of the tribute, for ’tis full measure and the Caliph accepteth it; but I hope that thou wilt excuse me, for that I have failed in my duty as thy guest and indeed this lapse of mine was decreed of Allah Almighty.” Abdullah enquired, “And what may be the lapse?” and he replied, “Know that when I was with thee, I followed thee three following nights and saw thee rise at midnight and beat the dogs and return; whereat I marvelled, but was ashamed to question thee thereof. When I came back to Baghdad, I told the Caliph of thine affair, casually and without design, whereupon he charged me to return to thee, and here is a letter under his hand. Had I known that the affair would lead to this, I had not told him, but Destiny foreordained thus.” And he went on to excuse himself to him; whereupon said Abdullah, “Since thou hast told him this, I will bear out thy report with him, lest he deem thee a liar, for thou art my friend. Were it other than thou, I had denied the affair and given him the lie. But now I will go with thee and carry the two dogs with me, though this be to me ruin-rife and the ending of my term of life.” Rejoined the other, “Allah will veil3 thee, even as thou hast veiled my face with the Caliph!” Then Abdullah took a present beseeming the Commander of the Faithful and mounting the dogs with him, each on a camel, bound with chains4 of gold, journeyed with Abu Ishak to Baghdad, where he went in to the Caliph and kissed ground before him. He deigned bid him sit; so he sat down and brought the two dogs before Al–Rashid, who said to him “What be these dogs, O Emir Abdullah?” Whereupon they fell to kissing the floor between his hands and wagging their tails and weeping, as if complaining to him. The Caliph marvelled at this and said to the governor, “Tell me the history of these two dogs and the reason of thy beating them and after entreating them with honour.” He replied, “O Vicar of Allah, these be no dogs, but two young men, endowed with beauty and seemliness, symmetry and shapeliness, and they are my brothers and the sons of my father and mother.” Asked the Caliph “How is it that they were men and are become dogs?”; and he answered, “An thou give me leave, O Prince of True Believers, I will acquaint thee with the truth of the circumstance.” Said Al–Rashid, “Tell me and ‘ware of leasing, for ’tis of the fashion of the hypocrites, and look thou tell truth, for that is the Ark5 of safety and the mark of virtuous men.” Rejoined Abdullah, “Know then, O vice-regent of Allah, when I tell thee the story of these dogs, they will both bear witness against me: an I speak sooth they will certify it and if I lie they will give me the lie.” Cried the Caliph, “These are of the dogs; they cannot speak nor answer; so how can they testify for thee or against thee?” But Abdullah said to them, “O my brothers, if I speak a lying word, do ye lift your heads and stare with your eyes; but, if I say sooth hang down your heads and lower your eyes.” Then said he to the Caliph, “Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that we are three brothers by one mother and the same father. Our sire’s name was Fazil and he was so named because his mother bare two sons at one birth, one of whom died forthright and the other twin remained alive, wherefore his sire named him Fazil — the Remainder. His father brought him up and reared him well, till he grew to manhood when he married him to our mother and died. Our mother conceived a first time and bare this my first brother, whom our sire named Mansúr; then she conceived again and bare this my second brother, whom he named Násir6; after which she conceived a third time and bare me, whom he named Abdullah. My father reared us all three till we came to man’s estate, when he died, leaving us a house and a shop full of coloured stuffs of all kinds, Indian and Greek and Khorásáni and what not, besides sixty thousand dinars. We washed him and buried him to the ruth of his Lord, after which we built him a splendid monument and let pray for him prayers for the deliverance of his soul from the fire and held perlections of the Koran and gave alms on his behalf, till the forty days7 were past; when I called together the merchants and nobles of the folk and made them a sumptuous entertainment. As soon as they had eaten, I said to them, ‘O merchants, verily this world is ephemeral, but the next world is eternal, and extolled be the perfection of Him who endureth always after His creatures have passed away! Know ye why I have called you together this blessed day?’ And they answered, ‘Extolled be Allah sole Scient of the hidden things.8’ Quoth I, ‘My father died, leaving much of money, and I fear lest any have a claim against him for a debt or a pledge9 or what not else, and I desire to discharge my father’s obligations towards the folk. So whoso hath any demand on him, let him say, ‘He oweth me so and so,’ and I will satisfy it to him, that I may acquit the responsibility of my sire.10’ The merchants replied, ‘O Abdullah, verily the goods of this world stand not in stead of those of the world to come, and we are no fraudful folk, but all of us know the lawful from the unlawful and fear Almighty Allah and abstain from devouring the substance of the orphan. We know that thy father (Allah have mercy on him!) still let his money lie with the folk,11 nor did he suffer any man’s claim on him to go unquitted, and we have ever heard him declare, ‘I am fearful of the people’s substance.’ He used always to say in his prayers, ‘O my God, Thou art my stay and my hope! Let me not die while in debt.’ And it was of his wont that, if he owed any one aught, he would pay it to him, without being pressed, and if any owed him aught he would not dun him, but would say to him, ‘At thy leisure.’ If his debtor were poor, he would release him from his liability and acquit him of responsibility; and if he were not poor and died in his debt, he would say, ‘Allah forgive him what he owed me!’ And we all testify that he owed no man aught.’ Quoth I, ‘May Allah bless you!’ Then I turned to these my brothers and said, ‘Our father owed no man aught and hath left us much money and stuffs, besides the house and the shop. Now we are three and each of us is entitled to one third part. So shall we agree to waive division and wone copartners in our wealth and eat together and drink together, or shall we apportion the stuffs and the money and take each his part?’ Said they, ‘We will divide them and take each his share.’” (Then Abdullah turned to the two dogs and said to them, “Did it happen thus, O my brothers?”. and they bowed their heads and lowered their eyes, as to say, “Yes.”) Abdullah continued “I called in a departitor from the Kazi’s court, O Prince of True Believers, and he distributed amongst us the money and the stuffs and all our father had left, allotting the house and shop to me in exchange for a part of the coin and clothes to which I was entitled. We were content with this; so the house and shop fell to my share, whilst my brothers took their portion in money and stuffs. I opened the shop and stocking it with my stuffs bought others with the money apportioned to me, over and above the house and shop, till the place was full, and I sat selling and buying. As for my brothers, they purchased stuffs and hiring a ship, set out on a voyage to the far abodes of folk. Quoth I, ‘Allah aid them both! As for me, my livelihood is ready to my hand and peace is priceless.’ I abode thus a whole year, during which time Allah opened the door of fortune to me and I gained great gains, till I became possessed of the like of that which our father had left us. One day, as I sat in my shop, with two fur pelisses on me, one of sable and the other of meniver,12 for it was the season of winter and the time of the excessive cold, behold, there came up to me my two brothers, each clad in a ragged shirt and nothing more, and their lips were white with cold, and they were shivering. When I saw them in this plight, it was grievous to me and I mourned for them,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Lit. “the calamity of man (insán) is from the tongue” (lisán).
2 For Khatt Sharíf, lit.=a noble letter, see vol. ii. 39.
3 Arab. “Allah yastura-k”=protect thee by hiding what had better be hidden.
4 Arab. “Janázír”=chains, an Arabised plural of the Pers. Zanjír with the metathesis or transposition of letters peculiar to the vulgar; “Janázír” for “Zanájír.”
5 Arab. “Safínah”=(Noah’s) Ark, a myth derived from the Baris of Egypt with subsequent embellishments from the Babylonian deluge-legends: the latter may have been survivals of the days when the waters of the Persian Gulf extended to the mountains of Eastern Syria. Hence I would explain the existence of extinct volcanoes within sight of Damascus (see Unexplored Syria i. p. 159) visited, I believe, for the first time by my late friend Charles F. Tyrwhitt–Drake and myself in May, 1871.
6 Mansur and Násir are passive and active participles from the same root, Nasr=victory; the former means triumphant and the latter triumphing.
7 The normal term of Moslem mourning, which Mohammed greatly reduced disliking the abuse of it by the Jews who even in the present day are the strictest in its observance.
8 An euphuistic and euphemistic style of saying, “No, we don’t know.”
9 Arab. “Rahan,” an article placed with him in pawn.
10 A Moslem is bound, not only by honour but by religion, to discharge the debts of his dead father and mother and so save them from punishment on Judgment-day. Mohammed who enjoined mercy to debtors while in the flesh (chapt. ii. 280, etc.) said “Allah covereth all faults except debt; that is to say, there will be punishment therefor.” Also “A martyr shall be pardoned every fault but debt.” On one occasion he refused to pray for a Moslem who died insolvent. Such harshness is a curious contrast with the leniency which advised the creditor to remit debts by way of alms. And practically this mild view of indebtedness renders it highly unadvisable to oblige a Moslem friend with a loan.
11 i.e. he did not press them for payment; and, it must be remembered, he received no interest upon his monies, this being forbidden in the Koran.
12 Al–Mas’údi (chap. xvii.) alludes to furs of Sable (Samúr), hermelline (Al–Farwah) and Bortás (Turkish) furs of black and red foxes. For Samúr see vol. iv. 57. Sinjáb is Persian for the skin of the grey squirrel (Mu. lemmus, the lemming), the meniver, erroneously miniver, (menu vair) as opposed to the ermine=(Mus Armenius, or mustela erminia.) I never visit England without being surprised at the vile furs worn by the rich, and the folly of the poor in not adopting the sheepskin with the wool inside and the leather well tanned which keeps the peasant warm and comfortable between Croatia and Afghanistan.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah bin Fazil continued to the Caliph, “When I saw them in this plight, it was grievous to me and I mourned for them and my reason fled my head. So I rose and embraced them and wept over their condition: then I put on one of them the pelisse of sable and on the other the fur coat of meniver and, carrying them to the Hammam, sent thither for each of them a suit of apparel such as befitted a merchant worth a thousand.1 When they had washed and donned each his suit, I carried them to my house where, seeing them well nigh famished, I set a tray of food before them and ate with them, caressing them and comforting them.” (Then he again turned to the two dogs and said to them “Was this so, O my brothers?”; and they bent their heads and lowered their eyes.) So Abdullah continued “When they had eaten, O Vicar of Allah, quoth I to them, ‘What hath befallen you and where are your goods?’; and quoth they, ‘We fared up the river,2 till we came to a city called Cufa, where we sold for ten dinars the piece of stuff that had cost half a ducat and that which cost us a ducat for twenty. So we profited greatly and bought Persian stuffs at the rate of ten sequins per piece of silk worth forty in Bassorah. Thence we removed to a city called Al–Karkh3 where we sold and bought and made gain galore and amassed of wealth great store.’ And they went on to set forth to me the places and the profits. So I said to them, ‘Since ye had such good luck and lot, how cometh it that I see you return naked?’ They sighed and answered, ‘O our brother, some one must have evileyed us, and in travel there is no trusting. When we had gotten together these monies and goods, we freighted a ship therewith and set sail, intending for Bassorah. We fared on three days and on the fourth day we saw the sea rise and fall and roar and foam and swell and dash, whilst the waves clashed together with a crash, striking out sparks like fire4 in the darks. The winds blew contrary for us and our craft struck upon the point of a bill-projected rock, where it brake up and plunged us into the river, and all we had with us was lost in the waters. We abode struggling on the surface a day and a night, till Allah sent us another ship, whose crew picked us up and we begged our way from town to town, suffering mighty sore hardships and selling our body-clothes piecemeal, to buy us food, till we drew near Bassorah; nor did we make the city till we had drained the draught of a thousand miseries. But, had we come safely off with that which was by us, we had brought back riches that might be even with those of the King: but this was fore ordained to us of Allah.’ I said, ‘O my brothers, let not your hearts be grieved, for wealth is the ransom of bodies and safety is property. Since Allah hath written you of the saved, this is the end of desire, for want and wealth are but as it were illusions of dreams and God-gifted is he who said,
‘If a man from destruction can save his head
Let him hold his wealth as a slice of nail.’
I continued, ‘O my brothers we will suppose that our sire died to-day and left us all this wealth that is with me, for I am right willing to share it with you equally.’ So I fetched a departitor from the Kazi’s court and brought out to him all my money, which he distributed into three equal parts, and we each took one. Then said I to them, ‘O my brothers, Allah blesseth a man in his daily bread, if he be in his own country: so let each of you open him a shop and sit therein to get his living; and he to whom aught is ordained in the Secret Purpose,5 needs must he get it.’ Accordingly, I helped each of them to open a shop and filled it for him with goods, saying to them, ‘Sell and buy and keep your monies and spend naught thereof; for all ye need of meat and drink and so forth I will furnish to you.’ I continued to entreat them generously, and they fell to selling and buying by day and returning at even-tide to my house where they lay the night; nor would I suffer them to expend aught of their own substance. But, whenever I sat talking with them, they would praise travel and proclaim its pleasures and vaunt the gains they had made therein; and they ceased not to urge me to accompany them in travelling over foreign parts.” (Then he said to the dogs, “Was this so, O my brothers?” and they again bowed their heads and lowered their eyes in confirmation of his words.) He continued, “On such wise, O Vicar of Allah, they continued to urge me and tempt me to travel by vaunting the great gains and profit to be obtained thereby till I said to them, ‘Needs must I fare with you for your sake!’ Then I entered into a contract of partnership with them and we chartered a ship and packing up all manner of precious stuffs and merchandise of every kind, freighted it therewith; after which we embarked in it all we needed and, setting sail from Bassorah, launched out into the dashing sea, swollen with clashing surge whereinto whoso entereth is lone and lorn and whence whoso cometh forth is as a babe new- born. We ceased not sailing on till we came to a city of the cities, where we sold and bought and made great cheape. Thence we went on to another place, and we ceased not to pass from land to land and port to port, selling and buying and profiting, till we had gotten us great wealth and much advantage. Presently, we came to a mountain,6 where the captain cast anchor and said to us, ‘O passengers; go ye ashore; ye shall be saved from this day,7 and make search; it may be ye shall find water.’ So all landed I amongst the crowd, and dispersed about the island in search of water. As for me, I climbed to the top of the mountain, and whilst I went along, lo and behold! I saw a white snake fleeing and followed by a black dragon, foul of favour and frightful of form, hotly pursuing her. Presently he overtook her and clipping her, seized her by the head and wound his tail about her tail, whereupon she cried out and I knew that he purposed to rape her. So I was moved to ruth for her and taking up a lump of granite,8 five pounds or more in weight, hurled it at the dragon. It smote him on the head and crushed it, and ere I knew, the white snake changed and became a young girl bright with beauty and loveliness and brilliancy and perfect grace, as she were the shining full moon, who came up to me and kissing my hands, said to me, ‘Allah veil thee with two-fold veils, one from shame in this world and the other from the flame in the world to come on the day of the Great Upstanding, the day when neither wealth nor children shall avail save to him who shall come to Allah with a sound heart!’9 And presently she continued, ‘O mortal, thou hast saved my honour and I am indebted to thee for kindness, wherefore it behoveth me to requite thee.’ So saying, she signed with her hand to the earth, which opened and she descended thereinto: then it closed up again over her and by this I knew that she was of the Jinn. As for the dragon, fire was kindled in him and consumed him and he became ashes. I marvelled at this and returned to my comrades, whom I acquainted with whatso I had seen, and we passed the night in the island. On the morrow the Captain weighed anchor and spread the sails and coiled the ropes and we sailed till the shore faded from our gaze. We fared on twenty days, without seeing or land or bird, till our water came to an end and quoth the Rais to us, ‘O folk, our fresh water is spent.’ Quoth we, ‘Let us make for land; haply we shall find water.’ But he exclaimed, ‘By Allah, I have lost my way and I know not what course will bring me to the seaboard.’ Thereupon betided us sore chagrin and we wept and besought Almighty Allah to guide us into the right course. We passed that night in the sorriest case: but God-gifted is He who said,
‘How many a night have I spent in woes
That would grizzle the suckling-babe with fear:
But morrowed not morn ere to me there came
‘Aidance from Allah and victory near.’10
But when the day arose in its sheen and shone, we caught sight of a high mountain and rejoiced therein. When we came to its skirts, the Captain said to us, ‘O folk, go ashore and seek for water.’ So we all landed and sought water but found none, whereat we were sore afflicted because we were suffering for want of it. As for me, I climbed up to the mountain-top and on the other side thereof I saw a spacious circle11 distant from us an hour’s journey or more. Presently I called my companions and as soon as they all rejoined me, said to them ‘Look at yonder basin behind this mountain; for I see therein a city high of base and a strong-cornered place girt with sconce and rampartry, pasturage and lea and doubtless it wanteth not water and good things. So hie we thither and fetch drink therefrom and buy what we need of provisions, meat and fruit, and return.’ But they said, ‘We fear lest the city-folk be Kafirs ascribing to Allah partners and enemies of The Faith and lay hand on us and take us captive or else slay us; so should we cause the loss of our own lives, having cast ourselves into destruction and evil emprise. Indeed, the proud and presumptuous are never praiseworthy, for that they ever fare in danger of calamities, even as saith of such an one a certain poet,
‘Long as earth is earth, long as sky is sky,
The o’erproud is blamed tho’ from risk he fly!’
So we will not expose ourselves to peril.’ I replied, ‘O folk, I have no authority over you; so I will take my brothers and go to yonder city.’ But my brothers said to me, ‘We also fear this thing and will not go with thee.’ Quoth I, ‘As for me, I am resolved to go thither, and I put my trust in Allah and accept whatsoever He shall decree to me. Do ye therefore await me, whilst I wend thither and return to you twain.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Tájir Alfí” which may mean a thousand dinars (£500) or a thousand purses (=£5,000). “Alfí” is not an uncommon P.N., meaning that the bearer (Pasha or pauper) had been bought for a thousand left indefinite.
2 Tigris–Euphrates.
3 Possibly the quarter of Baghdad so called and mentioned in The Nights more than once.
4 For this fiery sea see Sind Revisited i. 19.
5 Arab. “Al–Ghayb” which may also mean “in the future” (unknown to man).
6 Arab. “Jabal”; here a mountainous island: see vol. i. 140.
7 i.e. ye shall be spared this day’s miseries. See my Pilgrimage vol. i. 314, and the delight with which we glided into Marsá Damghah.
8 Arab. “Súwán”=“Syenite” (-granite) also used for flint and other hard stones. See vol. i. 238.
9 Koran xxiv. Male children are to the Arab as much prized an object of possession as riches, since without them wealth is of no value to him. Mohammed, therefore, couples wealth with children as the two things wherewith one wards off the ills of this world, though they are powerless against those of the world to come.
10 An exclamation derived from the Surat Nasr (cx. 1) one of the most affecting in the Koran. It gave Mohammed warning of his death and caused Al–Abbás to shed tears; the Prophet sings a song of victory in the ixth year of the Hijrah (he died on the xth) and implores the pardon of his Lord.
11 Arab. “Dáirah,” a basin surrounded by hills. The words which follow may mean, “An hour’s journey or more in breadth.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah said, “‘Do ye twain await me whilst I wend thither and return to you.’”—“So I left them and walked on till I came to the gate of the place and saw it a city of building wondrous and projection marvellous, with boulevards high-towering and towers strong-builded and palaces high-soaring. Its portals were of Chinese iron, rarely gilded and graven on such wise as confounded the wit. I entered the gateway and saw there a stone bench, whereon sat a man bearing on his forearm a chain of brass, whereto hung fourteen keys; so I knew him to be the porter of the city and that it had fourteen gates. I drew near him and said to him ‘Peace be with thee!’; but he returned not my salam and I saluted him a second and a third time; but he made me no reply. Then I laid my hand on his shoulder and said to him, ‘Ho thou, why dost thou not return my salam? Art thou asleep or deaf or other than a Moslem, that thou refrainest from exchanging the salutation?’ But he answered me not neither stirred; so I considered him and saw that he was stone. Quoth I, ‘Verily an admirable matter! This is a stone wroughten in the semblance of a son of Adam and wanting in naught save speech!’ Then I left him and entering the city, beheld a man standing in the road; so I went up to him and scrutinised him and found him stone. Presently, as I walked adown the broad-ways, and saw that this was every where the case, I met an old woman bearing on her head a bundle of clothes ready for washing; so I went up to her and examining her, saw that she was stone, and the bundle of clothes on her head was stone also.1 Then I fared for the market, where I saw an oilman with his scales set up and fronted by various kinds of wares such as cheese and so forth, all of stone. Moreover, I saw all manner of tradesmen seated in their shops and men and women and children, some standing and some sitting; but they were all stone; and the stuffs were like spiders’ webs. I amused myself with looking upon them, and as often as I laid hold upon a piece of stuff, it powdered in my hands like dust dispread. Presently I saw some chests and opening one of them, found it full of gold in bags; so I laid hold upon the bags, but they crumbled away in my grasp, whilst the gold abode unchanged. I carried off of it what I could carry and said to myself, ‘Were my brothers with me, they might take of this gold their fill and possess themselves of these hoards which have no owner.’ Then I entered another shop and found therein more than this, but could bear away no more than I had borne. I left this market and went on to another and thence to another and another, much enjoying the sight of all manner of creatures of various kinds, all several stones, even to the dogs and the cats, till I came to the goldsmiths’ bazar, where I saw men sitting in their shops, with their stock-in-trade about them, some in their hands and others in crates of wicker-work. When I saw this, O Commander of the Faithful, I threw down the gold and loaded myself with goldsmiths’ ware, as much as I could carry. Then I went on to the jewel-market and saw there the jewellers seated in their shops, each with a tray before him, full of all sorts of precious stones, jacinths and diamonds and emeralds and balass rubies and so forth: but all the shop-keepers were stones; whereupon I threw away the goldsmiths’ ware and carried off as many jewels as I could carry, regretting that my brothers were not with me, so they might take what they would of those costly gems. Then I left the jewel-market and went on till I came to a great door, quaintly gilded and decorated after the fairest fashion, within which were wooden benches and in the porch sat eunuchs, and body-guards; horsemen, and footmen and officers of police each and every robed in the richest of raiment; but they were all stones. I touched one of them and his clothes crumbled away from his body like cobwebs. Then I passed through the door and saw a palace without equal for its building and the goodliness of the works that were therein. Here I found an audience-chamber, full of Grandees and Wazirs and Officers and Emirs, seated upon chairs and every one of them stone. Moreover, I saw a throne of red gold, crusted with pearls and gems, and seated thereon a son of Adam arrayed in the most sumptuous raiment and bearing on his head a Chosröan2 crown, diademed with the finest stones that shed a light like the light of day; but, when I came up to him, I found him stone. Then I went on to the gate of the Harim and entering, found myself in the Queen’s presence-chamber, wherein I saw a throne of red gold, inlaid with pearls and gems, and the Queen seated thereon. On her head she wore a crown diademed with finest jewels, and round about her were women like moons, seated upon chairs and clad in the most sumptuous clothing of all colours. There also the eunuchry, with their hands upon their breasts,3 were standing in the attitude of service, and indeed this hall confounded the beholder’s wits with what was therein of quaint gilding and rare painting and curious carving and fine furniture. There hung the most brilliant lustres4 of limpid crystal, and in every globe5 of the crystal was an unique jewel, whose price money might not fulfil. So I threw down that which was with me, O Prince of True Believers, and fell to taking of these jewels what I could carry, bewildered as to what I should bear away and what I should leave; for indeed I saw the place as it were a treasure of the treasures of the cities. Presently I espied a wicket6 standing open and within it a staircase: so I entered and mounting forty steps, heard a human voice reciting the Koran in a low tone. I walked towards that sound till I came to the main door hung with a silken curtain, laced with wires of gold whereon were strung pearls and coral and rubies and cut emeralds which gave forth a light like the light of stars. The voice came from behind the curtain: so I raised it and discovered a gilded door, whose beauty amazed the mind. I passed through the door and found myself in a saloon as it were a hoard upon earth’s surface7 and therein a girl as she were the sun shining fullest sheen in the zenith of a sky serene. She was robed in the costliest of raiment and decked with ornaments the most precious that could be and withal she was of passing beauty and loveliness, a model of symmetry and seemliness, of elegance and perfect grace, with waist slender and hips heavy and dewy lips such as heal the sick and eyelids lovely in their languor, as it were she of whom the sayer spake when he said,
‘My best salam to what that robe enrobes of symmetry,
And what that blooming garth of cheek enguards of rosy blee:
It seems as though the Pleiades depend upon her brow;
And other lights of Night in knots upon her breast we see:
Did she but don a garment weft of Rose’s softest leaf,
The leaf of Rose would draw her blood8 when pluckt that fruit from tree:
And did she crache in Ocean’s face, next Morn would see a change
To sweeter than the honeycomb of what was briny sea:
And did she deign her favours grant to grey-beard staff-enpropped
He’d wake and rend the lion’s limbs for might and valiancy.’”
Then Abdullah continued, “O Prince of True Believers, as soon as I saw that girl I fell passionately in love with her and going straight up to her, found her seated on a high couch, reciting by heart and in grateful memory the Book of Allah, to whom belong honour and glory! Her voice was like the harmony of the gates of Heaven, when Rizwan openeth them, and the words came from her lips like a shower of gems; whilst her face was with beauty dight, bright and blossom-white, even as saith the poet of a similar sight,
‘O thou who gladdenest man by speech and rarest quality;
Grow longing and repine for thee and grow beyond degree!
In thee two things consume and melt the votaries of Love;
The dulcet song of David joined with Joseph’s brilliancy.’
When I heard her voice of melody reciting the sublime Koran, my heart quoted from her killing glances, ‘Peace, a word from a compassionating Lord;’9 but I stammered 10 in my speech and could not say the salam-salutation aright, for my mind and sight were confounded and I was become as saith the bard,
‘Love-longing urged me not except to trip in speech o’er free;
Nor, save to shed my blood I passed the campment’s boundary:
I ne’er will hear a word from those who love to rail, but I
Will testify to love of him with every word of me.’
Then I hardened myself against the horrors of repine and said to her, ‘Peace be with thee, O noble Lady, and treasured jewel! Allah grant endurance to the foundation of thy fortune fair and upraise the pillars of thy glory rare!’ Said she, ‘And on thee from me be peace and salutation and high honour, O Abdullah, O son of Fazil! Well come and welcome and fair welcome to thee, O dearling mine and coolth of mine eyne!’ Rejoined I, ‘O my lady, whence wottest thou my name and who art thou and what case befel the people of this city, that they are become stones? I would have thee tell me the truth of the matter, for indeed I am admiring at this city and its citizens and that I have found none alive therein save thyself. So, Allah upon thee, tell me the cause of all this, according to the truth!’ Quoth she, ‘Sit, O Abdullah, and Inshallah, I will talk with thee and acquaint thee in full with the facts of my case and of this place and its people; and there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!’ So I sat me down by her side and she said to me, ‘Know, O Abdullah, (may Allah have mercy on thee!) that I am the daughter of the King of this city and that it is my sire whom thou sawest seated on the high stead in the Divan, and those who are round about him were the Lords of his land and the Guards of his empery. He was a King of exceeding prowess and had under his hand a thousand thousand and sixty thousand troopers. The number of the Emirs of his Empire was four-and-twenty thousand, all of them Governors and Dignitaries. He was obeyed by a thousand cities, besides towns, hamlets and villages; and sconces and citadels, and the Emirs11 of the wild Arabs under his hand were a thousand in number, each commanding twenty thousand horse. Moreover, he had monies and treasures and precious stones and jewels and things of price, such as eye never saw nor of which ear ever heard.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 These petrified folk have occurred in the “Eldest Lady’s Tale” (vol. i. 165), where they are of “black stone.”
2 Arab. “Táj Kisrawi,” such as was worn by the Chosroes Kings. See vol. i. 75.
3 The familiar and far-famed Napoleonic pose, with the arms crossed over the breast, is throughout the East the attitude assumed by slave and servant in presence of his master. Those who send statues to Anglo–India should remember this.
4 Arab. “Tá álík”=hanging lamps, often in lantern shape with coloured glass and profuse ornamentation; the Maroccan are now familiar to England.
5 Arab. “Kidrah,” lit.=a pot, kettle; it can hardly mean “an interval.”
6 The wicket or small doorway, especially by the side of a gate or portal, is called “the eye of the needle” and explains Matt. xix. 24, and Koran vii. 38. In the Rabbinic form of the proverb the camel becomes an elephant. Some have preferred to change the Koranic Jamal (camel) for Habl (cable) and much ingenuity has been wasted by Christian commentators on Mark x. 25, and Luke xviii. 25.
7 i.e. A “Kanz” (enchanted treasury) usually hidden underground but opened by a counter-spell and transferred to earth’s face. The reader will note the gorgeousness of the picture.
8 Oriental writers, Indian and Persian, as well as Arab, lay great stress upon the extreme delicacy of the skin of the fair ones celebrated in their works, constantly attributing to their heroines bodies so sensitive as to brook with difficulty the contact of the finest shift. Several instances of this will be found in the present collection and we may fairly assume that the skin of an Eastern beauty, under the influence of constant seclusion and the unremitting use of cosmetics and the bath, would in time attain a pitch of delicacy and sensitiveness such as would in some measure justify the seemingly extravagant statements of their poetical admirers, of which the following anecdote (quoted by Ibn Khellikan from the historian Et Teberi) is a fair specimen. Ardeshir ibn Babek (Artaxerxes I.), the first Sassanian King of Persia (A.D. 226–242), having long unsuccessfully besieged El Hedr, a strong city of Mesopotamia belonging to the petty King Es Satiroun, at last obtained possession of it by the treachery of the owner’s daughter Nezireh and married the latter, this having been the price stipulated by her for the betrayal to him of the place. “It happened afterwards that, one night, as she was unable to sleep and turned from side to side in the bed, Ardeshir asked her what prevented her from sleeping. She replied, ‘I never yet slept on a rougher bed than this; I feel something irk me.’ He ordered the bed to be changed, but she was still unable to sleep. Next morning, she complained of her side, and on examination, a myrtle-leaf was found adhering to a fold of the skin, from which it had drawn blood. Astonished at this circumstance, Ardeshir asked her if it was this that had kept her awake and she replied in the affirmative. ‘How then,’ asked he, ‘did your father bring you up?’ She answered, ‘He spread me a bed of satin and clad me in silk and fed me with marrow and cream and the honey of virgin bees and gave me pure wine to drink.’ Quoth Ardeshir, ‘The same return which you made your father for his kindness would be made much more readily to me’; and bade bind her by the hair to the tail of a horse, which galloped off with her and killed her.” It will be remembered that the true princess, in the well-known German popular tale, is discovered by a similar incident to that of the myrtle-leaf. I quote this excellent note from Mr. Payne (ix. 148), only regretting that annotation did not enter into his plan of producing The Nights. Amongst Hindu story-tellers a phenomenal softness of the skin is a lieu commun: see Vikram and the Vampire (p.285, “Of the marvellous delicacy of their Queens”); and the Tale of the Sybarite might be referred to in the lines given above.
“(55) Indeed joyous on that day are the people of Paradise in their employ;
(56) In shades, on bridal couches reclining they and their wives:
(57) Fruits have they therein and whatso they desire.
(58) ‘Peace!’ shall be a word from a compassionating Lord.”
Koran xxxvi. 55–58, the famous Chapt. “Yá Sín;” which most educated Moslems learn by heart. See vol. iii. 19. In addition to the proofs there offered that the Moslem Paradise is not wholly sensual I may quote, “No soul wotteth what coolth of the eyes is reserved (for the good) in recompense of their works” (Koran lxx. 17). The Paradise of eating, drinking, and copulating which Mr. Palgrave (Arabia, i. 368) calls “an everlasting brothel between forty celestial concubines” was preached solely to the baser sort of humanity which can understand and appreciate only the pleasures of the flesh. To talk of spiritual joys before the Badawin would have been a non-sens, even as it would be to the roughs of our great cities.
10 Arab. “Lajlaj” lit.=rolling anything round the mouth when eating; hence speaking inarticulately, being tongue-tied, stuttering, etc.
11 The classical “Phylarchs,” who had charge of the Badawin.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Princess, daughter to the King of the Stone-city, thus continued, “Verily, O Abdullah my father had monies and hoards, such as eye never saw and of which ear never heard. He used to debel Kings and do to death champions and braves in battle and in the field of fight, so that the Conquerors feared him and the Chosroës1 humbled themselves to him. For all this, he was a miscreant in creed ascribing to Allah partnership and adoring idols, instead of the Lord of worship; and all his troops were of images fain in lieu of the All-knowing Sovereign. One day of the days as he sat on the throne of his Kingship, compassed about with the Grandees of his realm, suddenly there came in to him a Personage, whose face illumined the whole Divan with its light. My father looked at him and saw him clad in a garb of green,2 tall of stature and with hands that reached beneath his knees. He was of reverend aspect and awesome and the light3 shone from his face. Said he to my sire, ‘O rebel, O idolater, how long wilt thou take pride in worshipping idols and abandoning the service of the All-knowing King? Say, ‘I testify that there is no god but the God and that Mohammed is His servant and His messenger.’ And embrace Al–Islam, thou and thy tribe; and put away from you the worship of idols, for they neither suffice man’s need nor intercede. None is worshipful save Allah alone, who raised up the heavens without columns and spread out the earths like carpets in mercy to His creatures.’4 Quoth my father, ‘Who art thou, O man who rejectest the worship of idols, that thou sayst thus? Fearest thou not that the idols will be wroth with thee?’ He replied, ‘The idols are stones; their anger cannot prejudice me nor their favour profit me. So do thou set in my presence thine idol which thou adorest and bid all thy folk bring each his image: and when they are all present, do ye pray them to be wroth with me and I will pray my Lord to be wroth with them, and ye shall descry the difference between the anger of the creature and that of the Creator. For your idols, ye fashioned them yourselves and the Satans clad themselves therewith as with clothing, and they it is who spake to you from within the bellies of the images,5 for your idols are made and the maker is my God to whom naught is impossible. An the True appear to you, do ye follow it, and if the False appear to you do ye leave it.’ Cried they, ‘Give us a proof of thy god, that we may see it;’ and quoth he, ‘Give me proof of your gods.’ So the King bade every one who worshipped his lord in image-form to bring it, and all the armies brought their idols to the Divan. Thus fared it with them; but as for me, I was sitting behind a curtain, whence I could look upon my father’s Divan, and I had an idol of emerald whose bigness was as the bigness of a son of Adam. My father demanded it, so I sent it to the Divan, where they set it down beside that of my sire, which was of jacinth, whilst the Wazir’s idol was of diamond.6 As for those of the Grandees and Notables, some were of balass-ruby and some of carnelian, others of coral or Comorin aloes-wood and yet others of ebony or silver or gold; and each had his own idol, after the measure of his competence; whilst the idols of the common soldiers and of the people were some of granite, some of wood, some of pottery and some of mud; and all were of various hues yellow and red; green, black and white. Then said the Personage to my sire, ‘Pray your idol and these idols to be wroth with me.’ So they aligned the idols in a Divan,7 setting my father’s idol on a chair of gold at the upper end, with mine by its side, and ranking the others each according to the condition of him who owned it and worshipped it. Then my father arose and prostrating himself to his own idol, said to it, ‘O my god, thou art the Bountiful Lord, nor is there among the idols a greater than thyself. Thou knowest that this person cometh to me, attacking thy divinity and making mock of thee; yea, he avoucheth that he hath a god stronger than thou and ordereth us leave adoring thee and adore his god. So be thou wrath with him, O my god!’ And he went on to supplicate the idol; but the idol returned him no reply neither bespoke him with aught of speech; whereupon quoth he, ‘O my god, this is not of thy wont, for thou usedst to answer me, when I addressed thee. How cometh it that I see thee silent and speaking not? Art thou unheeding or asleep?8 Awake; succour me and speak to me!’ And he shook it with his hand; but it spake not neither stirred from its stead. Thereupon quoth the Personage, ‘What aileth thine idol that it speaketh not?’; and quoth the King, ‘Methinks he is absent-minded or asleep.’ Exclaimed the other, ‘O enemy of Allah, how canst thou worship a god that speaketh not nor availeth unto aught and not worship my God, who to prayers deigns assent and who is ever present and never absent, neither unheeding nor sleeping, whom conjecture may not ween, who seeth and is not seen and who over all things terrene is omnipotent? Thy god is powerless and cannot guard itself from harm; and indeed a stoned Satan had clothed himself therewith as with a coat that he might debauch thee and delude thee. But now hath its devil departed; so do thou worship Allah and testify that there is no god but He and that none is worshipful nor worshipworth but Himself; neither is there any good but His good. As for this thy god, it cannot ward off hurt from it; so how shall it ward off harm from thee? See with thine own eyes its impotence.’ So saying, he went up to the idol and dealt it a cuff on the neck, that it fell to the ground; whereupon the King waxed wroth and cried to the bystanders, ‘This froward atheist hath smitten my god. Slay him!’ So they would have arisen to smite him, but none of them could stir from his place. Then he propounded to them Al–Islam; but they refused to become Moslems and he said, ‘I will show you the wroth of my Lord.’ Quoth they, ‘Let us see it!’ So he spread out his hands and said, ‘O my God and my Lord, Thou art my stay and my hope; answer Thou my prayer against these lewd folk, who eat of Thy good and worship other gods. O Thou the Truth, O Thou of All-might, O Creator of Day and Night, I beseech Thee to turn these people into stones, for Thou art the Puissant nor is aught impossible to Thee, and Thou over all things are omnipotent!’ And Allah transformed the people of this city into stones; but, as for me, when I saw the manifest proof of His deity, I submitted myself to Him and was saved from that which befel the rest. Then the Personage drew near me and said ‘Felicity9 was fore-ordained of Allah to thee and in this a purpose had He.’ And he went on to instruct me and I took unto him the oath and covenant.10 I was then seven years of age and am now thirty years old. Then said I to him, ‘O my lord, all that is in the city and all its citizens are become stones by thine effectual prayer, and I am saved, for that I embraced Al–Islam at thy hands. Wherefore thou art become my Shaykh; so do thou tell me thy name and succour me with thy security and provide me with provision whereon I may subsist.’ Quoth he, ‘My name is Abu al-‘Abbás al-Khizr’; and he planted me a pomegranate-tree, which forthright grew up and foliaged, flowered and fruited, and bare one pomegranate; whereupon quoth he, ‘Eat of that wherewith Allah the Almighty provideth thee and worship Him with the worship which is His due.’ Then he taught me the tenets of Al–Islam and the canons of prayer and the way of worship, together with the recital of the Koran, and I have now worshipped Allah in this place three-and-twenty years. Each day the tree yieldeth me a pomegranate which I eat and it sustaineth me from tide to tide; and every Friday, Al–Khizr (on whom be peace!) cometh to me and ’tis he who acquainted me with thy name and gave me the glad tidings of thy soon coming hither, saying to me, ‘When he shall come to thee, entreat him with honour and obey his bidding and gainsay him not; but be thou to him wife and he shall be to thee man, and wend with him whitherso he will.’ So, when I saw thee, I knew thee and such is the story of this city and of its people, and the Peace!’”—“Then she showed me the pomegranate-tree, whereon was one granado, which she took and eating one-half thereof herself, gave me the other to eat, and never did I taste aught sweeter or more savoury or more satisfying than that pomegranate. After this, I said to her, ‘Art thou content, even as the Shaykh Al–Khizr charged thee, to be my wife and take me to mate; and art thou ready to go with me to my own country and abide with me in the city of Bassorah?’ She replied, ‘Yes, Inshallah: an it please Almighty Allah. I hearken to thy word and obey thy hest without gainsaying.’ Then I made a binding covenant with her and she carried me into her father’s treasury, whence we took what we could carry and going forth that city, walked on till we came to my brothers, whom I found searching for me. They asked, ‘Where hast thou been? Indeed thou hast tarried long from us, and our hearts were troubled for thee.’ And the captain of the ship said to me, ‘O merchant Abdullah, the wind hath been fair for us this great while, and thou hast hindered us from setting sail.’ And I answered, ‘There is no harm in that; ofttimes slow11 is sure and my absence hath wrought us naught but advantage, for indeed, there hath betided me therein the attainment of our hopes and God-gifted is he who said,
‘I weet not, whenas to a land I fare
In quest of good, what I shall there obtain;
Or gain I fare with sole desire to seek;
Or loss that seeketh me when seek I gain.’
Then said I to them, ‘See what hath fallen to me in this mine absence;’ and displayed to them all that was with me of treasures and told them what I had beheld in the City of Stone, adding, ‘Had ye hearkened to me and gone with me, ye had gotten of these things great gain.’”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 “The Jabábirah” (giant-rulers of Syria) and the “Akásirah” (Chosroës-Kings of Persia).
2 This shows (and we are presently told) that the intruder was Al–Khizr, the “Green Prophet,” for whom see vol. iv. 175.
3 i.e. of salvation supposed to radiate from all Prophets, esp. from Mohammed.
4 This formula which has occurred from the beginning (vol.i.1) is essentially Koranic: See Chapt. li. 18–19 and passim.
5 This trick of the priest hidden within the image may date from the days of the vocal Memnon, and was a favourite in India, especially at the shrine of Somnauth (Soma-náth), the Moon-god, Atergatis Aphrodite, etc.
6 Arab. “Almás”=Gr. Adamas. In opposition to the learned ex-Professor Maskelyne I hold that the cutting of the diamond is of very ancient date. Mr. W. M. Flinders Patrie (The Pyramids and Temples of Gizah, London: Field and Tuer, 1884) whose studies have thoroughly demolished the freaks and unfacts, the fads and fancies of the “Pyramidists,” and who may be said to have raised measurement to the rank of a fine art, believes that the Euritic statues of old Egypt such as that of Khufu (Cheops) in the Bulak Museum were drilled by means of diamonds. AthenFus tells us (lib. v.) that the Indians brought pearls and diamonds to the procession of Ptolemy Philadelphus; and this suggests cutting, as nothing can be less ornamental than the uncut stone.
7 i.e. as if they were holding a “Durbar”; the King’s idol in the Sadr or place of honour and the others ranged about it in their several ranks.
8 These words are probably borrowed from the taunts of Elijah to the priests of Baal (1 Kings xviii. 27). Both Jews and Moslems wilfully ignored the proper use of the image or idol which was to serve as a Keblah or direction of prayer and an object upon which to concentrate thought and looked only to the abuse of the ignoble vulgus who believe in its intrinsic powers. Christendom has perpetuated the dispute: Romanism affects statues and pictures: Greek orthodoxy pictures and not statues and the so-called Protestantism ousts both.
9 Arab. “Sa’ádah”=worldly prosperity and future happiness.
10 Arab. “Al–Ahd wa al-Mísák” the troth pledged between the Muríd or apprentice-Darwaysh and the Shaykh or Master–Darwaysh binding the former to implicit obedience etc.
11 Arab. “Taakhír” lit. postponement and meaning acting with deliberation as opposed to “Ajal” (haste), precipitate action condemned in the Koran lxv. 38.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah bin Fazil said to his shipmates and to his two brothers, “Had ye gone with me, ye had gotten of these things great gain.” But they said, “By Allah, had we gone, we had not dared to go in to the King of the city!”—“Then I said to my brothers, ‘No harm shall befal you; for that which I have will suffice us all and this is our lot.’1 So I divided my booty into four parts according to our number and gave one to each of my brothers and to the Captain, taking the fourth for myself, setting aside somewhat for the servants and sailors, who rejoiced and blessed me: and all were content with what I gave them, save my brothers who changed countenance and rolled their eyes. I perceived that lust of lucre had gotten hold of them both; so I said to them, ‘O my brothers, methinketh what I have given you doth not satisfy you; but we are brothers and there is no difference between us. My good and yours are one and the same thing, and if I die none will inherit of me but you.’ And I went on to soothe them. Then I bore the Princess on board the galleon and lodged her in the cabin, where I sent her somewhat to eat and we sat talking, I and my brothers. Said they, ‘O our brother, what wilt thou do with that damsel of surpassing beauty?’ And I replied, ‘I mean to contract marriage with her, as soon as I reach Bassorah and make a splendid wedding and go in to her there.’ Exclaimed one of them, ‘O my brother, verily, this young lady excelleth in beauty and loveliness and the love of her is fallen on my heart; wherefore I desire that thou give her to me and I will espouse her.’ And the other cried, ‘I too desire this: give her to me, that I may espouse her.’ ‘O my brothers,’ answered I, ‘indeed she took of me an oath and a covenant that I would marry her myself; so, if I give her to one of you, I shall be false to my oath and to the covenant between me and her, and haply she will be broken-hearted, for she came not with me but on condition that I marry her. So how can I wed her to other than myself? As for your both loving her, I love her more than you twain, for she is my treasure-trove, and as for my giving her to one of you, that is a thing which may not be. But, if we reach Bassorah in safety, I will look you out two girls of the best of the damsels of Bassorah and demand them for you in marriage and pay the dower of my own monies and make one wedding and we will all three go into our brides on the same night. But leave ye this damsel, for she is of my portion.’ They held their peace, and I thought they were content with that which I had said. Then we fared onwards for Bassorah, and every day I sent her meat and drink; but she came not forth of the cabin, whilst I slept between my brothers on deck. We sailed thus forty days, till we sighted Bassorah city and rejoiced that we were come near it. Now I trusted in my brothers and was at my ease with them, for none knoweth the hidden future save Allah the Most High; so I lay down to sleep that night; but, as I abode drowned in slumber, I suddenly found myself caught up by these my brothers, one seizing me by the legs and the other by the arms, for they had taken counsel together to drown me in the sea for the sake of the damsel. When I saw myself in their hands, I said to them, ‘O my brothers, why do ye this with me?’ And they replied, ‘Ill-bred that thou art, wilt thou barter our affection for a girl?; we will cast thee into the sea, because of this.’ So saying, they threw me overboard.” (Here Abdullah turned to the dogs and said to them, “Is this that I have said true O my brothers or not?”; and they bowed their heads and fell a-whining, as if confirming his speech; whereat the Caliph wondered). Then Abdullah resumed, “O Commander of the Faithful, when they threw me into the sea, I sank to the bottom; but the water bore me up again to the surface, and before I could think, behold a great bird, the bigness of a man, swooped down upon me and snatching me up, flew up with me into upper air. I fainted and when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a strong-pillared place, a high-builded palace, adorned with magnificent paintings and pendants of gems of all shapes and hues. Therein were damsels standing with their hands crossed over their breasts and, behold in their midst was a lady seated on a throne of red gold, set with pearls and gems, and clad in apparel whereon no mortal might open his eyes, for the lustre of the jewels wherewith they were decked. About her waist she wore a girdle of jewels no money could pay their worth and on her head a three-fold tiara dazing thought and wit and dazzling heart and sight. Then the bird which had carried me thither shook and became a young lady bright as sun raying light. I fixed my eyes on her and behold, it was she whom I had seen, in snake form on the mountain and had rescued from the dragon which had wound his tail around her. Then said to her the lady who sat upon the throne, ‘Why hast thou brought hither this mortal?’; and she replied, ‘O my mother, this is he who was the means of veiling my honour2 among the maidens of the Jinn.’ Then quoth she to me, ‘Knowest thou who I am?’; and quoth I, ‘No.’ Said she, ‘I am she who was on such a mountain, where the black dragon strave with me and would have forced my honour, but thou slewest him.’ And I said, ‘I saw but a white snake with the dragon.’ She rejoined, “Tis I who was the white snake; but I am the daughter of the Red King, Sovran of the Jann and my name is Sa’ídah.3 She who sitteth there is my mother and her name is Mubárakah, wife of the Red King. The black dragon who attacked me and would have done away my honour was Wazir to the Black King, Darfíl by name, and he was foul of favour. It chanced that he saw me and fell in love with me; so he sought me in marriage of my sire, who sent to him to say, ‘Who art thou, O scum of Wazirs, that thou shouldst wed with Kings’ daughters?’ Whereupon he was wroth and sware an oath that he would assuredly do away my honour, to spite my father. Then he fell to tracking my steps and following me whithersoever I went, designing to ravish me; wherefore there befel between him and my parent mighty fierce wars and bloody jars, but my sire could not prevail against him, for that he was fierce as fraudful and as often as my father pressed hard upon him and seemed like to conquer he would escape from him, till my sire was at his wits’ end. Every day I was forced to take new form and hue; for, as often as I assumed a shape, he would assume its contrary, and to whatsoever land I fled he would snuff my fragrance and follow me thither, so that I suffered sore affliction of him. At last I took the form of a snake and betook myself to the mountain where thou sawest me; whereupon he changed himself to a dragon and pursued me, till I fell into his hands, when he strove with me and I struggled with him, till he wearied me and mounted me, meaning to have his lustful will of me; but thou camest and smote him with the stone and slewest him. Then I returned to my own shape and showed myself to thee, saying, ‘I am indebted to thee for a service such as is not lost save with the son of adultery.’4 So, when I saw thy brothers do with thee this treachery and throw thee into the sea, I hastened to thee and saved thee from destruction, and now honour is due to thee from my mother and my father.’ Then she said to the Queen, ‘O my mother, do thou honour him as deserveth he who saved my virtue.’ So the Queen said to me, ‘Welcome, O mortal! Indeed thou hast done us a kindly deed which meriteth honour.’ Presently she ordered me a treasure-suit,5 worth a mint of money, and store of gems and precious stones, and said, ‘Take him and carry him in to the King.’ Accordingly, they carried me into the King in his Divan, where I found him seated on his throne, with his Marids and guards before him; and when I saw him my sight was blent for that which was upon him of jewels; but when he saw me, he rose to his feet and all his officers rose also, to do him worship. Then he saluted me and welcomed me and entreated me with the utmost honour, and gave me of that which was with him of good things; after which he said to some of his followers, ‘Take him and carry him back to my daughter, that she may restore him to the place whence she brought him.’ So they carried me back to the Lady Sa’idah, who took me up and flew away with me and my treasures. On this wise fared it with me and the Princess; but as regards the Captain of the galleon, he was aroused by the splash of my fall, when my brothers cast me into the sea, and said, ‘What is that which hath fallen overboard?’ Whereupon my brothers fell to weeping and beating of breasts and replied, ‘Alas, for our brother’s loss! He thought to do his need over the ship’s side6 and fell into the water!’ Then they laid their hands on my good, but there befel dispute between them because of the damsel, each saying, ‘None shall have her but I.’ And they abode jangling and wrangling each with other and remembered not their brother nor his drowning and their mourning for him ceased. As they were thus, behold Sa’idah alighted with me in the midst of the galleon,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. I have been lucky enough to get this and we will share it amongst us.
2 i.e. of saving me from being ravished.
3 Sa’ídah=the auspicious (fem.): Mubárakah,=the blessed; both names showing that the bearers were Moslemahs.
4 i.e. the base-born from whom base deeds may be expected.
5 Arab. “Badlat Kunúzíyah=such a dress as would be found in enchanted hoards (Kunúz):.g. Prince Esterhazy’s diamond jacket.
6 The lieu d’aisance in Eastern crafts is usually a wooden cage or framework fastened outside the gunwale very cleanly but in foul weather very uncomfortable and even dangerous.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah bin Fazil continued, “As they were thus, behold, Sa’idah alighted with me in the midst of the galleon and when my brothers saw me, they embraced me and rejoiced in me, saying, ‘O our brother, how hast thou fared in that which befel thee? Indeed our hearts have been occupied with thee.’ Quoth Sa’idah, ‘Had ye any heart-yearnings for him or had ye loved him, ye had not cast him into the sea; but choose ye now what death ye will die.’ Then she seized on them and would have slain them; but they cried out, saying, ‘In thy safeguard, O our brother!’ Thereupon I interceded and said to her, ‘I claim of thine honour not to kill my brothers.’ Quoth she, ‘There is no help but that I slay them, for they are traitors.’ But I ceased not to speak her fair and conciliate her till she said, ‘To content thee, I will not kill them, but I will enchant them.’ So saying, she brought out a cup and filling it with sea-water, pronounced over it words that might not be understood; then saying, ‘Quit this human shape for the shape of a dog;’ she sprinkled them with the water, and immediately they were transmewed into dogs, as thou seest them, O Vicar of Allah.” Whereupon he turned to the dogs and said to them, “Have I spoken the truth, O my brothers?” And they bowed their heads, as they would say, “Thou hast spoken sooth.” At this he continued, “Then she said to those who were in the galleon, ‘Know ye that Abdullah bin Fazil here present is become my brother and I shall visit him once or twice every day: so, whoso of you crosseth him or gainsayeth his bidding or doth him hurt with hand or tongue, I will do with him even as I have done with these two traitors and bespell him to a dog, and he shall end his days in that form, nor shall he find deliverance.’ And they all said to her, ‘O our lady, we are his slaves and his servants every one of us and will not disobey him in aught.’ Moreover, she said to me, ‘When thou comest to Bassorah, examine all thy property and if there lack aught thereof, tell me and I will bring it to thee, in whose hands and in what place soever it may be, and will change him who took it into a dog. When thou hast magazined thy goods, clap a collar1 of wood on the neck of each of these two traitors and tie them to the leg of a couch and shut them up by themselves. Moreover, every night, at midnight, do thou go down to them and beat each of them a bout till he swoon away; and if thou suffer a single night to pass without beating them, I will come to thee and drub thee a sound drubbing, after which I will drub them.’ And I answered, ‘To hear is to obey.’ Then said she, ‘Tie them up with ropes till thou come to Bassorah.’ So I tied a rope about each dog’s neck and lashed them to the mast, and she went her way. On the morrow we entered Bassorah and the merchants came out to meet me and saluted me, and no one of them enquired of my brothers. But they looked at the dogs and said to me, ‘Ho, such and such,2 what wilt thou do with these two dogs thou hast brought with thee?’ Quoth I, ‘I reared them on this voyage and have brought them home with me.’ And they laughed at them, knowing not that they were my brothers. When I reached my house, I put the twain in a closet and busied myself all that night with the unpacking and disposition of the bales of stuffs and jewels. Moreover, the merchants were with me being minded to offer me the salam; wherefore I was occupied with them and forgot to beat the dogs or chain them up. Then without doing them aught of hurt, I lay down to sleep, but suddenly and unexpectedly there came to me the Red King’s daughter Sa’idah and said to me, ‘Did I not bid thee clap chains on their necks and give each of them a bout of beating?’ So saying, she seized me and pulling out a whip, flogged me till I fainted away, after which she went to the place where my brothers were and with the same scourge beat them both till they came nigh upon death. Then said she to me, ‘Beat each of them a like bout every night, and if thou let a night pass without doing this, I will beat thee;’ and I replied, ‘O my lady, to-morrow I will put chains on their necks, and next night I will beat them nor will I leave them one night unbeaten.’ And she charged me strictly to beat them and disappeared. When the morning morrowed it being no light matter for me to put fetters of iron on their necks, I went to a goldsmith and bade him make them collars and chains of gold. He did this and I put the collars on their necks and chained them up, as she bade me; and next night I beat them both in mine own despite. This befel in the Caliphate of Al-Mahdi,3 third of the sons of Al–Abbas, and I commended myself to him by sending him presents, so he invested me with the government and made me viceroy of Bassorah. On this wise I abode some time and after a while I said to myself, ‘Haply her wrath is grown cool;’ and left them a night unbeaten, whereupon she came to me and beat me a bout whose burning I shall never forget long as I live. So, from that time to this, I have never left them a single night unbeaten during the reign of Al–Mahdi; and when he deceased and thou camest to the succession, thou sentest to me, confirming me in the government of Bassorah. These twelve years past have I beaten them every night, in mine own despite, and after I have beaten them, I excuse myself to them and comfort them and give them to eat and drink; and they have remained shut up, nor did any of the creatures of Allah know of them, till thou sentest to me Abu Ishak the boon-companion, on account of the tribute, and he discovered my secret and returning to thee, acquainted thee therewith. Then thou sentest him back to fetch me and them; so I answered with ‘Hearkening and obedience,’ and brought them before thee, whereupon thou questionedst me and I told thee the truth of the case; and this is my history.” The Caliph marvelled at the case of the two dogs and said to Abdullah, “Hast thou at this present forgiven thy two brothers the wrong they did thee, yea or nay?” He replied, “O my lord, may Allah forgive them and acquit them of responsibility in this world and the next! Indeed, ’tis I who stand in need of their forgiveness, for that these twelve years past I have beaten them a grievous bout every night!” Rejoined the Caliph, “O Abdullah, Inshallah, I will endeavour for their release and that they may become men again, as they were before, and I will make peace between thee and them; so shall you live the rest of your lives as brothers loving one another; and like as thou hast forgiven them, so shall they forgive thee. But now take them and go down with them to thy lodging and this night beat them not, and to- morrow there shall be naught save weal.” Quoth Abdullah, “O my lord, as thy head liveth, if I leave them one night unbeaten, Sa’idah will come to me and beat me, and I have no body to brook beating.” Quoth the Caliph, “Fear not, for I will give thee a writing under my hand.4 An she come to thee, do thou give her the paper and if, when she has read it, she spare thee, the favour will be hers; but, if she obey not my bidding, commit thy business to Allah and let her beat thee a bout and suppose that thou hast forgotten to beat them for one night and that she beateth thee because of that: and if it fall out thus and she thwart me, as sure as I am Commander of the Faithful, I will be even with her.” Then he wrote her a letter on a piece of paper, two fingers broad, and sealing it with his signet-ring, gave it to Abdullah, saying, “O Abdullah, if Sa’idah come, say to her, ‘The Caliph, King of mankind, hath commanded me to leave beating them and hath written me this letter for thee; and he saluteth thee with the salam.’ Then give her the warrant and fear no harm.” After which he exacted of him an oath and a solemn pledge that he would not beat them. So Abdullah took the dogs and carried them to his lodging, saying to himself, “I wonder what the Caliph will do with the daughter of the Sovran of the Jinn, if she cross him and trounce me to-night! But I will bear with a bout of beating for once and leave my brothers at rest this night, though for their sake I suffer torture.” Then he bethought himself awhile, and his reason said to him, “Did not the Caliph rely on some great support, he had never forbidden me from beating them.” So he entered his lodging and doffed the collars from the dogs’ necks, saying, “I put my trust in Allah,” and fell to comforting them and saying, “No harm shall befal you; for the Caliph, fifth5 of the sons of Al–Abbas, hath pledged himself for your deliverance and I have forgiven you. An it please Allah the Most High, the time is come and ye shall be delivered this blessed night; so rejoice ye in the prospect of peace and gladness.” when they heard these words, they fell to whining with the whining of dogs — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Ghull,” a collar of iron or other metal, sometimes made to resemble the Chinese Kza or Cangue, a kind of ambulant pillory, serving like the old stocks which still show in England the veteris vestigia ruris. See Davis, “The Chinese,” i. 241. According to Al–Siyúti (p. 362) the Caliph Al–Mutawakkil ordered the Christians to wear these Ghulls round the neck, yellow head-gear and girdles, to use wooden stirrups and to place figures of devils before their houses. The writer of The Nights presently changes Ghull to “chains” and “fetters of iron.”
2 Arab. “Yá fulán,” O certain person! See vol. iii. 191.
3 Father of Harun al-Rashid A.H. 158–169 (=775–785) third Abbaside who both in the Mac. and the Bul. Edits. is called “the fifth of the sons of Al–Abbas.” He was a good poet and a man of letters, also a fierce persecutor of the “Zindiks” (Al–Siyuti 278), a term especially applied to those who read the Zend books and adhered to Zoroastrianism, although afterwards applied to any heretic or atheist. He made many changes at Meccah and was the first who had a train of camels laden with snow for his refreshment along a measured road of 700 miles (Gibbon, chapt. lii.). He died of an accident when hunting: others say he was poisoned after leaving his throne to his sons Musa al-Hadi and Harun al-Rashid. The name means “Heaven-directed” and must not be confounded with the title of the twelfth Shi’ah Imám Mohammed Abu al-Kásim born at Sarramanrai A.H. 255 whom Sale (sect. iv.) calls “Mahdi or Director” and whose expected return has caused and will cause so much trouble in Al–Islam.
4 This speciosum miraculum must not be held a proof that the tale was written many years after the days of Al–Rashid. Miracles grow apace in the East and a few years suffice to mature them. The invasion of Abraha the Abyssinia took place during the year of Mohammed’s birth; and yet in an early chapter of the Koran (No. cv.) written perhaps forty-five years afterwards, the small-pox is turned into a puerile and extravagant miracle. I myself became the subject of a miracle in Sind which is duly chronicled in the family-annals of a certain Pir or religious teacher. See History of Sindh (p. 23O) and Sind Revisited (i. 156).
5 In the texts, “Sixth.”
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah bin Fazil said to his brothers, “Rejoice ye in the prospect of comfort and gladness.” And when they heard his words they fell to whining with the whining of dogs, and rubbed their jowls against his feet, as if blessing him and humbling themselves before him. He mourned over them and took to stroking their backs till supper time; and when they set on the trays he bade the dogs sit. So they sat down and ate with him from the tray, whilst his officers stood gaping and marvelling at his eating with dogs and all said, “Is he mad or are his wits gone wrong? How can the Viceroy of Bassorah city, he who is greater than a Wazir, eat with dogs? Knoweth he not that the dog is unclean?1” And they stared at the dogs, as they ate with him as servants eat with their lords,2 knowing not that they were his brothers; nor did they cease staring at them, till they had made an end of eating, when Abdullah washed his hands and the dogs also put out their paws and washed; whereupon all who were present began to laugh at them and to marvel, saying, one to other, “Never in our lives saw we dogs eat and wash their paws after eating!” Then the dogs sat down on the divans beside Abdullah, nor dared any ask him of this; and thus the case lasted till midnight, when he dismissed the attendants and lay down to sleep and the dogs with him, each on a couch; whereupon the servants said one to other, “Verily, he hath lain down to sleep and the two dogs are lying with him.” Quoth another, “Since he hath eaten with the dogs from the same tray, there is no harm in their sleeping with him; and this is naught save the fashion of madmen.” Moreover, they ate not anything of the food which remained in the tray, saying, “’Tis unclean.” Such was their case; but as for Abdullah, ere he could think, the earth clave asunder and out rose Sa’idah, who said to him, “O Abdullah, why hast thou not beaten them this night and why hast thou undone the collars from their necks? Hast thou acted on this wise perversely and in mockery of my commandment? But I will at once beat thee and spell thee into a dog like them.” He replied, “O my lady, I conjure thee by the graving upon the seal-ring of Solomon David-son (on the twain be peace!) have patience with me till I tell thee my cause and after do with me what thou wilt.” Quoth she, “Say on,” and quoth he, “The reason of my not punishing them is only this. The King of mankind, the Commander of the Faithful, the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, ordered me not to beat them this night and took of me oaths and covenants to that effect; and he saluteth thee with the salam and hath committed to me a mandate under his own hand, which he bade me give thee. So I obeyed his order for to obey the Commander of the Faithful is obligatory; and here is the mandate. Take it and read it and after work thy will.” She replied “Hither with it!” So he gave her the letter and she opened it and read as follows, “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate! From the King of mankind, Harun al-Rashid, to the daughter of the Red King, Sa’idah! But, after. Verily, this man hath forgiven his brothers and hath waived his claim against them, and we have enjoined them to reconciliation. Now, when reconciliation ruleth, retribution is remitted, and if you of the Jinn contradict us in our commandments, we will contrary you in yours and traverse your ordinances; but, an ye obey our bidding and further our orders, we will indeed do the like with yours. Wherefore I bid thee hurt them no hurt, and if thou believe in Allah and in His Apostle, it behoveth thee to obey and us to command.3 So an thou spare them, I will requite thee with that whereto my Lord shall enable me; and the token of obedience is that thou remove thine enchantment from these two men, so they may come before me to-morrow, free. But an thou release them not, I will release them in thy despite, by the aid of Almighty Allah.” When she had read the letter, she said, “O Abdullah, I will do nought till I go to my sire and show him the mandate of the monarch of mankind and return to thee with the answer in haste.” So saying, she signed with her hand to the earth, which clave open and she disappeared therein, whilst Abdullah’s heart was like to fly for joy and he said, “Allah advance the Commander of the Faithful!” As for Sa’idah, she went in to her father; and, acquainting him with that which had passed, gave him the Caliph’s letter, which he kissed and laid on his head. Then he read it and understanding its contents said, “O my daughter, verily, the ordinance of the monarch of mankind obligeth us and his commandments are effectual over us, nor can we disobey him: so go thou and release the two men forth-with and say to them, ‘Ye are freed by the intercession of the monarch of mankind.’ For, should he be wroth with us, he would destroy us to the last of us; so do not thou impose on us that which we are unable.” Quoth she “O my father, if the monarch of mankind were wroth with us, what could he do with us?”; and quoth her sire, “He hath power over us for several reasons. In the first place, he is a man and hath thus pre-eminence over us4; secondly he is the Vicar of Allah; and thirdly, he is constant in praying the dawn-prayer of two bows5; therefore were all the tribes of the Jinn assembled together against him from the Seven Worlds they could do him no hurt. But he, should he be wroth with us would pray the dawn-prayer of two bows and cry out upon us one cry, when we should all present ourselves before him obediently and be before him as sheep before the butcher. If he would, he could command us to quit our abiding-places for a desert country wherein we might not endure to sojourn; and if he desired to destroy us, he would bid us destroy ourselves, whereupon we should destroy one another. wherefore we may not disobey his bidding for, if we did this, he would consume us with fire nor could we flee from before him to any asylum. Thus is it with every True Believer who is persistent in praying the dawn-prayer of two bows; his commandment is effectual over us: so be not thou the means of our destruction, because of two mortals, but go forthright and release them, ere the anger of the Commander of the Faithful fall upon us.” So she returned to Abdullah and acquainted him with her father’s words, saying, “Kiss for us the hands of the Prince of True Believers and seek his approval for us.” Then she brought out the tasse and filling it with water, conjured over it and uttered words which might not be understood; after which she sprinkled the dogs with the water saying, “Quit the form of dogs and return to the shape of men!” Whereupon they became men as before and the spell of the enchantment was loosed from them. Quoth they, “I testify that there is no god but the God and I testify that Mohammed is the Apostle of God!” Then they fell on their brother’s feet and hands, kissing them and beseeching his forgiveness: but he said, “Do ye forgive me;” and they both repented with sincere repentance, saying, “Verily, the damned Devil lured us and covetise deluded us: but our Lord hath requited us after our deserts, and forgiveness is of the signs of the noble.” And they went on to supplicate their brother and weep and profess repentance for that which had befallen him from them6. Then quoth he to them, “What did ye with my wife whom I brought from the City of Stone?” Quoth they, “When Satan tempted us and we cast thee into the sea, there arose strife between us, each saying, I will have her to wife. Now when she heard these words and beheld our contention, she knew that we had thrown thee into the sea; so she came up from the cabin and said to us, ‘Contend not because of me, for I will not belong to either of you. My husband is gone into the sea and I will follow him.’ So saying, she cast herself overboard and died.” Exclaimed Abdullah, “In very sooth she died a martyr7! But there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Then he wept for her with sore weeping and said to his brothers, “It was not well of you to do this deed and bereave me of my wife.” They answered, “Indeed, we have sinned, but our Lord hath requited us our misdeed and this was a thing which Allah decreed unto us, ere He created us.” And he accepted their excuse; but Sa’idah said to him, “Have they done all these things to thee and wilt thou forgive them?” He replied, “O my sister, whoso hath power8 and spareth, for Allah’s reward he prepareth.” Then said she, “Be on thy guard against them, for they are traitors;” and fare-welled him and fared forth. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Najis”=ceremonially impure especially the dog’s month like the cow’s month amongst the Hindus; and requiring after contact the Wuzu-ablution before the Moslem can pray.
2 Arab. “Akl al-hashamah” (hashamah=retinue; hishmah=reverence, bashfulness) which may also mean “decorously and respectfully,” according to the vowel-points.
3 i.e. as the Vice-regent of Allah and Vicar of the Prophet.
4 For the superiority of mankind to the Jinn see vol. viii. 5;44.
5 According to Al–Siyuti, Harun al-Rashid prayed every day a hundred bows.
6 As the sad end of his betrothed was still to be accounted for.
7 For the martyrdom of the drowned see vol. i, 171, to quote no other places.
8 i.e. if he have the power to revenge himself. The sentiment is Christian rather than Moslem.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah, when Sa’idah warned him and blessed him and went her ways, passed the rest of the night with his brothers and on the morrow, he sent them to the Hammam and clad each of them, on his coming forth, in a suit worth a hoard of money. Then he called for the tray of food and they set it before him and he ate, he and his brothers. When his attendants saw the twain and knew them for his brothers they saluted them and said to him, “O our lord, Allah give thee joy of thy reunion with thy dear brothers! Where have they been this while?” He replied, “It was they whom ye saw in the guise of dogs; praise be to Allah who hath delivered them from prison and grievous torment!” Then he carried them to the Divan of the Caliph and kissing ground before Al–Rashid wished him continuance of honour and fortune and surcease of evil and enmity. Quoth the Caliph, “Welcome, O Emir Abdullah! Tell me what hath befallen thee.” And quoth he, “O Commander of the Faithful (whose power Allah increase!) when I carried my brothers home to my lodging, my heart was at rest concerning them, because thou hadst pledged thyself to their release and I said in myself, ‘Kings fail not to attain aught for which they strain, inasmuch as the divine favour aideth them.’ So I took off the collars from their necks, putting my trust in Allah, and ate with them from the same tray, which when my suite saw, they made light of my wit and said each to other, ‘He is surely mad! How can the governor of Bassorah who is greater than the Wazir, eat with dogs?’ Then they threw away what was in the tray, saying, ‘We will not eat the dogs’ orts.’ And they went on to befool my reason, whilst I heard their words, but returned them no reply because of their unknowing that the dogs were my brothers. When the hour of sleep came, I sent them away and addressed myself to sleep; but, ere I was ware, the earth clave in sunder and out came Sa’idah, the Red King’s daughter, enraged against me, with eyes like fire.” And he went on to relate to the Caliph all what had passed between him and her and her father and how she had transmewed his brothers from canine to human form, adding, “And here they are before thee, O Commander of the Faithful!” The Caliph looked at them and seeing two young men like moons, said, “Allah requite thee for me with good, O Abdullah, for that thou hast acquainted me with an advantage1 I knew not! Henceforth, Inshallah, I will never leave to pray these two-bow orisons before the breaking of the dawn, what while I live.” Then he reproved Abdullah’s brothers for their past transgressions against him and they excused themselves before the Caliph, who said, “Join hands2 and forgive one another and Allah pardon what is past!” Upon which he turned to Abdullah and said to him, “O Abdullah, make thy brothers thine assistants and be careful of them.” Then he charged them to be obedient to their brother and bade them return to Bassorah after he had bestowed on them abundant largesse. So they went down from the Caliph’s Divan whilst he rejoiced in this advantage he had obtained by the action aforesaid, to wit, persistence in praying two inclinations before dawn, and exclaimed, “He spake truth who said, ‘The misfortune of one tribe fortuneth another tribe.’”3 On this wise befel it to them from the Caliph; but as regards Abdullah, he left Baghdad carrying with him his brothers in all honour and dignity and increase of quality, and fared on till they drew near Bassorah, when the notables and chief men of the place came out to meet them and after decorating the city brought them thereinto with a procession which had not its match and all the folk shouted out blessings on Abdullah as he scattered amongst them silver and gold. None, however, took heed to his brothers; wherefore jealousy and envy entered their hearts, for all he entreated them tenderly as one tenders an ophthalmic eye; but the more he cherished them, the more they redoubled in hatred and envy of him: and indeed it is said on the subject,
“I’d win good will of every one, but whoso envies me
Will not be won on any wise and makes mine office hard:
How gain the gree of envious wight who coveteth my good,
When naught will satisfy him save to see my good go marr’d?”
Then he gave each a concubine that had not her like, and eunuchs and servants and slaves white and black, of each kind forty. He also gave each of them fifty steeds all thoroughbreds and they got them guards and followers; and he assigned to them revenues and appointed them solde and stipends and made them his assistants, saying to them, “O my brothers, I and you are equal and there is no distinction between me and you twain,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 i.e. the power acquired (as we afterwards learn) by the regular praying of the dawn-prayer. It is not often that The Nights condescend to point a moral or inculcate a lesson as here; and we are truly thankful for the immunity.
2 Arab. “Musáfahah” which, I have said, serves for our shaking hands: and extends over wide regions. They apply the palms of the right hands flat to each other without squeezing the fingers and then raise the latter to the forehead. Pilgrimage ii. 332, has also been quoted.
3 Equivalent to our saying about an ill wind, etc.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abdullah assigned stipends to his brothers and made them his assistants, saying, “O my brothers, I and you are equal and there is no distinction between me and you twain, and after Allah and the Caliph, the commandment is mine and yours. So rule you at Bassorah in my absence and in my presence, and your commandments shall be effectual; but look that ye fear Allah in your ordinances and beware of oppression, which if it endure depopulateth; and apply yourselves to justice, for justice, if it be prolonged, peopleth a land. Oppress not the True Believers, or they will curse you and ill report of you will reach the Caliph, wherefore dishonour will betide both me and you. Go not therefore about to violence any, but whatso ye greed for of the goods of the folk, take it from my goods, over and above that whereof ye have need; for ’tis not unknown to you what is handed down in the Koran of prohibition versets on the subject of oppression and Allah-gifted is he who said these couplets,
‘Oppression ambusheth in sprite of man
Whom naught withholdeth save the lack of might:
The sage shall ne’er apply his wits to aught
Until befitting time direct his sight:
The tongue of wisdom woneth in the heart;
And in his mouth the tongue of foolish wight.
Who at occasion’s call lacks power to rise
Is slain by feeblest who would glut his spite.
A man may hide his blood and breed, but aye
His deeds on darkest hiddens cast a light.
Wights of ill strain with ancestry as vile
Have lips which never spake one word aright:
And who committeth case to hands of fool
In folly proveth self as fond and light;
And who his secret tells to folk at large
Shall rouse his foes to work him worst despight.
Suffice the generous what regards his lot
Nor meddles he with aught regards him not’”
And he went on to admonish his brothers and bid them to equity and forbid them from tyranny, doubting not but they would love him the better for his boon of good counsel1 and he relied upon them and honoured them with the utmost honour; but notwithstanding all his generosity to them, they only waxed in envy and hatred of him, till, one day, the two being together alone, quoth Nasir to Mansur, “O my brother, how long shall we be mere subjects of our brother Abdullah, and he in this estate of lordship and worship? After being a merchant, he is become an Emir, and from being little, he is grown great: but we, we grow not great nor is there aught of respect or degree left us; for, behold, he laugheth at us and maketh us his assistants! What is the meaning of this? Is it not that we are his servants and under his subjection? But, long as he abideth in good case, our rank will never be raised nor shall we be aught of repute; wherefore we shall not fulfil our wish, except we slay him and win to his wealth, nor will it be possible to get his gear save after his death. So, when we have slain him, we shall become lords and will take all that is in his treasuries of gems and things of price and divide them between us. Then will we send the Caliph a present and demand of him the government of Cufah, and thou shalt be governor of Cufah and I of Bassorah. Thus each of us shall have formal estate and condition, but we shall never effect this, except we put him out of the world!” Answered Mansur, “Thou sayest sooth, but how shall we do to kill him?” Quoth Nasir, “We will make an entertainment in the house of one of us and invite him thereto and serve him with the uttermost service. Then will we sit through the night with him in talk and tell him tales and jests and rare stories till his heart melteth with sitting up when we will spread him a bed, that he may lie down to sleep. When he is asleep, we will kneel upon him and throttle him and throw him into the river; and on the morrow, we will say, ‘His sister the Jinniyah came to him, as he sat chatting with us, and said to him, ‘O thou scum of mankind, who art thou that thou shouldst complain of me to the Commander of the Faithful? Deemest thou that we dread him? As he is a King, so we too are Kings, and if he mend not his manners in our regard we will do him die by the foulest of deaths. But meantime I will slay thee, that we may see what the hand of the Prince of True Believers availeth to do.’ So saying, she caught him up and clave the earth and disappeared with him which when we saw, we swooned away. Then we revived and we reck not what is become of him.’ And saying this we will send to the Caliph and tell him the case and he will invest us with the government in his room. After awhile, we will send him a sumptuous present and seek of him the government of Cufah, and one of us shall abide in Bassorah and the other in Cufah. So shall the land be pleasant to us and we will be down upon the True Believers and win our wishes.” And quoth Mansur, “Thou counsellest well, O my brother,” and they agreed upon the murther. So Nasir made an entertainment and said to Abdullah, “O my brother, verily I am thy brother, and I would have thee hearten my heart thou and my brother Mansur and eat of my banquet in my house, so I may boast of thee and that it may be said, The Emir Abdullah hath eaten of his brother Nasir’s guest meal; when my heart will be solaced by this best of boons.” Abdullah replied, “So be it, O my brother; there is no distinction between me and thee and thy house is my house; but since thou invitest me, none refuseth hospitality save the churl.” Then he turned to Mansur and said to him, “Wilt thou go with me to thy brother Nasir’s house and we will eat of his feast and heal his heart?” Replied Mansur, “As thy head liveth, O my brother, I will not go with thee, unless thou swear to me that, after thou comest forth of brother Nasir’s house, thou wilt enter my house and eat of my banquet! Is Nasir thy brother and am not I thy brother? So, even as thou heartenest his heart, do thou hearten mine.” Answered Abdullah, “There is no harm in that: with love and gladly gree! When I come out from Nasir’s house, I will enter thine, for thou art my brother even as he.” So he kissed his hand and going forth of the Divan, made ready his feast. On the morrow, Abdullah took horse and repaired, with his brother Mansur and a company of his officers, to Nasir’s house, where they sat down, he and Mansur and his many. Then Nasir set the trays before them and welcomed them; so they ate and drank and sat in mirth and merriment; after which the trays and the platters were removed and they washed their hands. They passed the day in feasting and wine-drinking and diversion and delight till night-fall, when they supped and prayed the sundown prayers, and the night orisons; after which they sat conversing and carousing, and Nasir and Mansur fell to telling stories whilst Abdullah hearkened. Now they three were alone in the pavilion, the rest of the company being in another place, and they ceased not to tell quips and tales and rare adventures and anecdotes, till Abdullah’s heart was dissolved within him for watching and sleep overcame him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 A proof of his extreme simplicity and bonhomie.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abdullah was a-wearied with watching and wanted to sleep, they also lay beside him on another couch and waited till he wasdrowned in slumber and when they were certified thereof they arose and knelt upon him: whereupon he awoke and seeing them kneeling on his breast, said to them, “What is this, O my brothers?” Cried they, “We are no brothers of thine, nor do we know thee unmannerly that thou art! Thy death is become better than thy life.” Then they gripped him by the throat and throttled him, till he lost his senses and abode without motion; so that they deemed him dead. Now the pavilion wherein they were overlooked the river; so they cast him into the water; but, when he fell, Allah sent to his aid a dolphin1 who was accustomed to come under that pavilion because the kitchen had a window that gave upon the stream; and, as often as they slaughtered any beast there, it was their wont to throw the refuse into the river and the dolphin came and picked it up from the surface of the water; wherefore he ever resorted to the place. That day they had cast out much offal by reason of the banquet; so the dolphin ate more than of wont and gained strength. Hearing the splash of Abdullah’s fall, he hastened to the spot, where he saw a son of Adam and Allah guided him so that he took the man on his back and crossing the current made with him for the other bank, where he cast his burthen ashore. Now the place where the dolphin cast up Abdullah was a well-beaten highway, and presently up came a caravan and finding him lying on the river bank, said, “Here is a drowned man, whom the river hath cast up;” and the travellers gathered around to gaze at the corpse. The Shaykh of the caravan was a man of worth, skilled in all sciences and versed in the mystery of medicine and, withal, sound of judgment: so he said to them, “O folk, what is the news?” They answered, “Here is a drowned man;” whereupon he went up to Abdullah and examining him, said to them, “O folk, there is life yet in this young man, who is a person of condition and of the sons of the great, bred in honour and fortune, and Inshallah there is still hope of him.” Then he took him and clothing him in dry clothes warmed him before the fire; after which he nursed him and tended him three days’ march till he revived; but he was passing feeble by reason of the shock, and the chief of the caravan proceeded to medicine him with such simples as he knew, what while they ceased not faring on till they had travelled thirty days’ journey from Bassorah and came to a city in the land of the Persians, by name ‘Aúj.2 Here they alighted at a Khan and spread Abdullah a bed, where he lay groaning all night and troubling the folk with his groans. And when morning morrowed the concierge of the Khan came to the chief of the caravan and said to him, “What is this sick man thou hast with thee? Verily, he disturbeth us.” Quoth the chief, “I found him by the way, on the river-bank and well nigh drowned; and I have tended him, but to no effect, for he recovereth not.” Said the porter, “Show him to the Shaykhah3 Rájihah.” “Who is this Religious?” asked the chief of the caravan, and the door-keeper answered, “There is with us a holy woman, a clean maid and a comely, called Rajihah, to whom they present whoso hath any ailment; and he passeth a single night in her house and awaketh on the morrow, whole and ailing nothing.” Quoth the chief, “Direct me to her;” quoth the porter, “Take up thy sick man.” So he and took up Abdullah and the doorkeeper forewent him, till he came to a hermitage, where he saw folk entering with many an ex voto offering and other folk coming forth, rejoicing. The porter went in, till he came to the curtain,4 and said, “Permission, O Shaykhah Rajihah! Take this sick man.” Said she, “Bring him within the curtain;” and the porter said to Abdullah, “Enter.” So he entered and looking upon the holy woman, saw her to be his wife whom he had brought from the City of Stone. And when he knew her she also knew him and saluted him and he returned her salam. Then said he, “Who brought thee hither?”; and she answered, “When I saw that thy brothers had cast thee away and were contending concerning me, I threw myself into the sea; but my Shaykh Al–Khizr Abu al-‘Abbás took me up and brought me to this hermitage, where he gave me leave to heal the sick and bade cry in the city, ‘Whoso hath any ailment, let him repair to the Shaykhah Rajihah;’ and he also said to me, ‘Tarry in this hermitage till the time betide, and thy husband shall come to thee here.’ So all the sick used to flock to me and I rubbed them and shampoo’d them and they awoke on the morrow whole and sound; whereby the report of me became noised abroad among the folk, and they brought me votive gifts, so that I have with me abundant wealth. And now I live here in high honour and worship, and all the people of these parts seek my prayers.” Then she rubbed him and by the ordinance of Allah the Most High, he became whole. Now Al–Khizr used to come to her every Friday night, and it chanced that the day of Abdullah’s coming was a Thursday.5 Accordingly, when the night darkened he and she sat, after a supper of the richest meats, awaiting the coming of Al–Khizr, who made his appearance anon and carrying them forth of the hermitage, set them down in Abdullah’s palace at Bassorah, where he left them and went his way. As soon as it was day, Abdullah examined the palace and knew it for his own; then, hearing the folk clamouring without, he looked forth of the lattice and saw his brothers crucified, each on his own cross. Now the reason of this was as ensueth. When they had thrown him into the Tigris, the twain arose on the morrow, weeping and saying, “Our brother! the Jinniyah hath carried off our brother!” Then they made ready a present and sent it to the Caliph, acquainting him with these tidings and suing from him the government of Bassorah. He sent for them and questioned them and they told him the false tale we have recounted, whereupon he was exceeding wroth.6 So that night he prayed a two-bow prayer before daybreak, as of his wont, and called upon the tribes of the Jinn, who came before him subject-wise, and he questioned them of Abdullah: when they sware to him that none of them had done him aught of hurt and said, “We know not what is become of him.” Then came Sa’idah, daughter of the Red King, and acquainted the Caliph with the truth of Abdullah’s case, and he dismissed the Jinn. On the morrow, he subjected Nasir and Mansur to the bastinado till they confessed, one against other: whereupon the Caliph was enraged with them and cried, “Carry them to Bassorah and crucify them there before Abdullah’s palace.” Such was their case; but as regards Abdullah, when he saw his brothers crucified, he commanded to bury them, then took horse and repairing to Baghdad, acquainted the Caliph with that which his brothers had done with him, from first to last and told him how he had recovered his wife; whereat Al–Rashid marvelled and summoning the Kazi and the witnesses, bade draw up the marriage-contract between Abdullah and the damsel whom he had brought from the City of Stone. So he went in to her and woned with her at Bassorah till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies; and extolled be the perfection of the Living, who dieth not! Moreover, O auspicious King, I have heard a tale anent
1 Arab. “Dárfíl”=the Gr. {Greek letters} later {Greek letters}, suggesting that the writer had read of Arion in Herodotus i. 23.
2 ‘Aúj; I can only suggest, with due diffidence, that this is intended for Kúch the well-known Baloch city in Persian Carmania (Kirmán) and meant by Richardson’s “Koch ü buloch.” But as the writer borrows so much from Al–Mas’udi it may possibly be Aúk in Sístán where stood the heretical city “Shádrak,” chapt. cxxii.
3 i.e. The excellent (or surpassing) Religious. Shaykhah, the fem. of Shaykh, is a she-chief, even the head of the dancing-girls will be entitled “Shaykhah.”
4 The curtain would screen her from the sight of men-invalids and probably hung across the single room of the “Záwiyah” or hermit’s cell. The curtain is noticed in the tales of two other reverend women; vols. iv. 155 and v. 257.
5 Abdullah met his wife on Thursday, the night of which would amongst Moslems be Friday night.
6 i.e. with Sa’idah.
There dwelt once upon a time in the God-guarded city of Cairo a cobbler who lived by patching old shoes.1 His name was Ma’aruf2 and he had a wife called Fatimah, whom the folk had nicknamed “The Dung;”3 for that she was a whorish, worthless wretch, scanty of shame and mickle of mischief. She ruled her spouse and abused him; and he feared her malice and dreaded her misdoings; for that he was a sensible man but poor-conditioned. When he earned much, he spent it on her, and when he gained little, she revenged herself on his body that night, leaving him no peace and making his night black as her book;4 for she was even as of one like her saith the poet:—
How manifold nights have I passed with my wife
In the saddest plight with all misery rife:
Would Heaven when first I went in to her
With a cup of cold poison I’d ta’en her life.
One day she said to him, “O Ma’aruf, I wish thee to bring me this night a vermicelli-cake dressed with bees’ honey.”5 He replied, “So Allah Almighty aid me to its price, I will bring it thee. By Allah, I have no dirhams to-day, but our Lord will make things easy.”6 Rejoined she — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Zarábín” (pl. of zarbún), lit. slaves’ shoes or sandals (see vol. iii. p. 336) the chaussure worn by Mamelukes. Here the word is used in its modern sense of stout shoes or walking boots.
2 The popular word means goodness, etc.
3 Dozy translates “‘Urrah”=Une Mégère: Lane terms it a “vulgar word signifying a wicked, mischievous shrew.” But it is the fem. form of ‘Urr=dung; not a bad name for a daughter of Billingsgate.
4 i.e. black like the book of her actions which would be shown to her on Doomsday.
5 The “Kunáfah” (vermicelli-cake) is a favourite dish of wheaten flour, worked somewhat finer than our vermicelli, fried with samn (butter melted and clarified) and sweetened with honey or sugar. See vol. v. 300.
6 i.e. Will send us aid. The Shrew’s rejoinder is highly impious in Moslem opinion.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ma’aruf the Cobbler said to his spouse, “By Allah, I have no dirhams to-day, but our Lord will make things easy to me!” She rejoined, “I wot naught of these words; look thou come not to me save with the vermicelli and bees’ honey; else will I make thy night black as thy fortune whenas thou fellest into my hand.” Quoth he, “Allah is bountiful!” and going out with grief scattering itself from his body, prayed the dawn-prayer and opened his shop. After which he sat till noon, but no work came to him and his fear of his wife redoubled. Then he arose and went out perplexed as to how he should do in the matter of the vermicelli-cake, seeing he had not even the wherewithal to buy bread. Presently he came to the shop of the Kunafah-seller and stood before it, whilst his eyes brimmed with tears. The pastry-cook glanced at him and said, “O Master Ma’aruf, why dost thou weep? Tell me what hath befallen thee.” So he acquainted him with his case, saying, “My wife would have me bring her a Kunafah; but I have sat in my shop till past mid-day and have not gained even the price of bread; wherefore I am in fear of her.” The cook laughed and said, “No harm shall come to thee. How many pounds wilt thou have?” “Five pounds,” answered Ma’aruf. So the man weighed him out five pounds of vermicelli-cake and said to him, “I have clarified butter, but no bees’ honey. Here is drip-honey,1 however, which is better than bees’ honey; and what harm will there be, if it be with drip-honey?” Ma’aruf was ashamed to object, because the pastry-cook was to have patience with him for the price, and said, “Give it me with drip-honey.” So he fried a vermicelli-cake for him with butter and drenched it with drip-honey, till it was fit to present to Kings. Then he asked him, “Dost thou want bread2 and cheese?”; and Ma’aruf answered, “Yes.” So he gave him four half dirhams worth of bread and one of cheese, and the vermicelli was ten nusfs. Then said he, “Know, O Ma’aruf, that thou owest me fifteen nusfs; so go to thy wife and make merry and take this nusf for the Hammam;3 and thou shalt have credit for a day or two or three till Allah provide thee with thy daily bread. And straiten not thy wife, for I will have patience with thee till such time as thou shalt have dirhams to spare.” So Ma’aruf took the vermicelli-cake and bread and cheese and went away, with a heart at ease, blessing the pastry-cook and saying, “Extolled be Thy perfection, O my Lord! How bountiful art Thou!” When he came home, his wife enquired of him, “Hast thou brought the vermicelli-cake?”; and, replying “Yes,” he set it before her. She looked at it and seeing that it was dressed with cane-honey,4 said to him, “Did I not bid thee bring it with bees’ honey? Wilt thou contrary my wish and have it dressed with cane-honey?” He excused himself to her, saying, “I bought it not save on credit;” but said she, “This talk is idle; I will not eat Kunafah save with bees’ honey.” And she was wroth with it and threw it in his face, saying, “Begone, thou pimp, and bring me other than this!” Then she dealt him a buffet on the cheek and knocked out one of his teeth. The blood ran down upon his breast and for stress of anger he smote her on the head a single blow and a slight; whereupon she clutched his beard and fell to shouting out and saying, “Help, O Moslems!” So the neighbours came in and freed his beard from her grip; then they reproved and reproached her, saying, “We are all content to eat Kunafah with cane-honey. Why, then, wilt thou oppress this poor man thus? Verily, this is disgraceful in thee!” And they went on to soothe her till they made peace between her and him. But, when the folk were gone, she sware that she would not eat of the vermicelli, and Ma’aruf, burning with hunger, said in himself, “She sweareth that she will not eat; so I will e’en eat.” Then he ate, and when she saw him eating, she said, “Inshallah, may the eating of it be poison to destroy the far one’s body.”5 Quoth he, “It shall not be at thy bidding,” and went on eating, laughing and saying, “Thou swarest that thou wouldst not eat of this; but Allah is bountiful, and to-morrow night, an the Lord decree, I will bring thee Kunafah dressed with bees’ honey, and thou shalt eat it alone.” And he applied himself to appeasing her, whilst she called down curses upon him; and she ceased not to rail at him and revile him with gross abuse till the morning, when she bared her forearm to beat him. Quoth he, “Give me time and I will bring thee other vermicelli-cake.” Then he went out to the mosque and prayed, after which he betook himself to his shop and opening it, sat down; but hardly had he done this when up came two runners from the Kazi’s court and said to him, “Up with thee, speak with the Kazi, for thy wife hath complained of thee to him and her favour is thus and thus.” He recognised her by their description; and saying, “May Allah Almighty torment her!” walked with them till he came to the Kazi’s presence, where he found Fatimah standing with her arm bound up and her face-veil besmeared with blood; and she was weeping and wiping away her tears. Quoth the Kazi, “Ho man, hast thou no fear of Allah the Most High? Why hast thou beaten this good woman and broken her forearm and knocked out her tooth and entreated her thus?” And quoth Ma’aruf, “If I beat her or put out her tooth, sentence me to what thou wilt; but in truth the case was thus and thus and the neighbours made peace between me and her.” And he told him the story from first to last. Now this Kazi was a benevolent man; so he brought out to him a quarter dinar, saying, “O man, take this and get her Kunafah with bees’ honey and do ye make peace, thou and she.” Quoth Ma’aruf, “Give it to her.” So she took it and the Kazi made peace between them, saying, “O wife, obey thy husband; and thou, O man, deal kindly with her.6” Then they left the court, reconciled at the Kazi’s hands, and the woman went one way, whilst her husband returned by another way to his shop and sat there, when, behold, the runners came up to him and said, “Give us our fee.” Quoth he, “The Kazi took not of me aught; on the contrary, he gave me a quarter dinar.” But quoth they “’Tis no concern of ours whether the Kazi took of thee or gave to thee, and if thou give us not our fee, we will exact it in despite of thee.” And they fell to dragging him about the market; so he sold his tools and gave them half a dinar, whereupon they let him go and went away, whilst he put his hand to his cheek and sat sorrowful, for that he had no tools wherewith to work. Presently, up came two ill-favoured fellows and said to him, “Come, O man, and speak with the Kazi; for thy wife hath complained of thee to him.” Said he, “He made peace between us just now.” But said they, “We come from another Kazi, and thy wife hath complained of thee to our Kazi.” So he arose and went with them to their Kazi, calling on Allah for aid against her; and when he saw her, he said to her, “Did we not make peace, good woman?” Whereupon she cried, “There abideth no peace between me and thee.” Accordingly he came forward and told the Kazi his story, adding, “And indeed the Kazi Such-an-one made peace between us this very hour.” Whereupon the Kazi said to her, “O strumpet, since ye two have made peace with each other, why comest thou to me complaining?” Quoth she, “He beat me after that;” but quoth the Kazi, “Make peace each with other, and beat her not again, and she will cross thee no more.” So they made peace and the Kazi said to Ma’aruf, “Give the runners their fee.” So he gave them their fee and going back to his shop, opened it and sat down, as he were a drunken man for excess of the chagrin which befel him. Presently, while he was still sitting, behold, a man came up to him and said, “O Ma’aruf, rise and hide thyself, for thy wife hath complained of thee to the High Court7 and Abú Tabak 8 is after thee.” So he shut his shop and fled towards the Gate of Victory.9 He had five nusfs of silver left of the price of the lasts and gear; and therewith he bought four worth of bread and one of cheese, as he fled from her. Now it was the winter season and the hour of mid-afternoon prayer; so, when he came out among the rubbish-mounds the rain descended upon him, like water from the mouths of water-skins, and his clothes were drenched. He therefore entered the ‘Adiliyah,10 where he saw a ruined place and therein a deserted cell without a door; and in it he took refuge and found shelter from the rain. The tears streamed from his eyelids, and he fell to complaining of what had betided him and saying, “Whither shall I flee from this whore? I beseech Thee, O Lord, to vouchsafe me one who shall conduct me to a far country, where she shall not know the way to me!” Now while he sat weeping, behold, the wall clave and there came forth to him therefrom one of tall stature, whose aspect caused his body-pile to bristle and his flesh to creep, and said to him, “O man, what aileth thee that thou disturbest me this night? These two hundred years have I dwelt here and have never seen any enter this place and do as thou dost. Tell me what thou wishest and I will accomplish thy need, as ruth for thee hath got hold upon my heart.” Quoth Ma’aruf, “Who and what art thou?”; and quoth he, “I am the Haunter11 of this place.” So Ma’aruf told him all that had befallen him with his wife and he said, “Wilt thou have me convey thee to a country, where thy wife shall know no way to thee?” “Yes,” said Ma’aruf; and the other, “Then mount my back.” So he mounted on his back and he flew with him from after supper-tide till daybreak, when he set him down on the top of a high mountain — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. Asal Katr; “a fine kind of black honey, treacle” says Lane; but it is afterwards called cane-honey (‘Asal Kasab). I have never heard it applied to “the syrup which exudes from ripe dates, when hung up.”
2 Arab. “‘Aysh,” lit.=that on which man lives: “Khubz” being the more popular term. “Hubz and Joobn” is well known at Malta.
3 Insinuating that he had better make peace with his wife by knowing her carnally. It suggests the story of the Irishman who brought over to the holy Catholic Church three several Protestant wives, but failed with the fourth on account of the decline of his “Convarter.”
4 Arab. “Asal Kasab,” i.e. Sugar, possibly made from sorgho-stalks Holcus sorghum of which I made syrup in Central Africa.
5 For this unpleasant euphemy see vol. iv. 215.
6 This is a true picture of the leniency with which women were treated in the Kazi’s court at Cairo; and the effect was simply deplorable. I have noted that matters have grown even worse since the English occupation, for history repeats herself; and the same was the case in Afghanistan and in Sind. We govern too much in these matters, which should be directed not changed, and too little in other things, especially in exacting respect for the conquerors from the conquered.
7 Arab. “Báb al-’Áli”=the high gate or Sublime Porte; here used of the Chief Kazi’s court: the phrase is a descendant of the Coptic “Per-ao” whence “Pharaoh.”
8 “Abú Tabak,” in Cairene slang, is an officer who arrests by order of the Kazi and means “Father of whipping” (=tabaka, a low word for beating, thrashing, whopping) because he does his duty with all possible violence in terrorem.
9 Bab al-Nasr the Eastern or Desert Gate: see vol. vi. 234.
10 This is a mosque outside the great gate built by Al–Malik al-’Ádil Tuman Bey in A.H. 906 (=1501). The date is not worthy of much remark for these names are often inserted by the scribe — for which see Terminal Essay.
11 Arab. “’Ámir” lit.=one who inhabiteth, a peopler; here used in technical sense. As has been seen, ruins and impure places such as privies and Hammám-baths are the favourite homes of the Jinn. The fire-drake in the text was summoned by the Cobbler’s exclamation and even Marids at times do a kindly action.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Marid having taken up Ma’aruf the Cobbler, flew off with him and set him down upon a high mountain and said to him, “O mortal, descend this mountain and thou wilt see the gate of a city. Enter it, for therein thy wife cannot come at thee.” He then left him and went his way, whilst Ma’aruf abode in amazement and perplexity till the sun rose, when he said to himself, “I will up with me and go down into the city: indeed there is no profit in my abiding upon this highland.” So he descended to the mountain-foot and saw a city girt by towering walls, full of lofty palaces and gold-adorned buildings which was a delight to beholders. He entered in at the gate and found it a place such as lightened the grieving heart; but, as he walked through the streets the townsfolk stared at him as a curiosity and gathered about him, marvelling at his dress, for it was unlike theirs. Presently, one of them said to him, “O man, art thou a stranger?” “Yes.” “What countryman art thou?” “I am from the city of Cairo the Auspicious.” “And when didst thou leave Cairo?” “I left it yesterday, at the hour of afternoon-prayer.” Whereupon the man laughed at him and cried out, saying, “Come look, O folk, at this man and hear what he saith!” Quoth they, “What doeth he say?”; and quoth the townsman, “He pretendeth that he cometh from Cairo and left it yesterday at the hour of afternoon-prayer!” At this they all laughed and gathering round Ma’aruf, said to him, “O man, art thou mad to talk thus? How canst thou pretend that thou leftest Cairo at mid-afternoon yesterday and foundedst thyself this morning here, when the truth is that between our city and Cairo lieth a full year’s journey?” Quoth he, “None is mad but you. As for me, I speak sooth, for here is bread which I brought with me from Cairo, and see, ’tis yet new.” Then he showed them the bread and they stared at it, for it was unlike their country bread. So the crowd increased about him and they said to one another, “This is Cairo bread: look at it;” and he became a gazing-stock in the city and some believed him, whilst others gave him the lie and made mock of him. Whilst this was going on, behold, up came a merchant riding on a she-mule and followed by two black slaves, and brake a way through the people, saying, “O folk, are ye not ashamed to mob this stranger and make mock of him and scoff at him?” And he went on to rate them, till he drave them away from Ma’aruf, and none could make him any answer. Then he said to the stranger, “Come, O my brother, no harm shall betide thee from these folk. Verily they have no shame.”1 So he took him and carrying him to a spacious and richly-adorned house, seated him in a speak-room fit for a King, whilst he gave an order to his slaves, who opened a chest and brought out to him a dress such as might be worn by a merchant worth a thousand.2 He clad him therewith and Ma’aruf, being a seemly man, became as he were consul of the merchants. Then his host called for food and they set before them a tray of all manner exquisite viands. The twain ate and drank and the merchant said to Ma’aruf, “O my brother, what is thy name?” “My name is Ma’aruf and I am a cobbler by trade and patch old shoes.” “What countryman art thou?” “I am from Cairo.” “What quarter?” “Dost thou know Cairo?” “I am of its children.3 I come from the Red Street. 4” “And whom dost thou know in the Red Street?” “I know such an one and such an one,” answered Ma’aruf and named several people to him. Quoth the other, “Knowest thou Shaykh Ahmad the druggist?5” “He was my next neighbour, wall to wall.” “Is he well?” “Yes.” “How many sons hath he?” “Three, Mustafà, Mohammed and Ali.” “And what hath Allah done with them?” “As for Mustafà, he is well and he is a learned man, a professor6: Mohammed is a druggist and opened him a shop beside that of his father, after he had married, and his wife hath borne him a son named Hasan.” “Allah gladden thee with good news!” said the merchant; and Ma’aruf continued, “As for Ali, he was my friend, when we were boys, and we always played together, I and he. We used to go in the guise of the children of the Nazarenes and enter the church and steal the books of the Christians and sell them and buy food with the price. It chanced once that the Nazarenes caught us with a book; whereupon they complained of us to our folk and said to Ali’s father:— An thou hinder not thy son from troubling us, we will complain of thee to the King. So he appeased them and gave Ali a thrashing; wherefore he ran away none knew whither and he hath now been absent twenty years and no man hath brought news of him.” Quoth the host, “I am that very Ali, son of Shaykh Ahmad the druggist, and thou art my playmate Ma’aruf.”7 So they saluted each other and after the salam Ali said, “Tell me why, O Ma’aruf, thou camest from Cairo to this city.” Then he told him all that had befallen him of ill-doing with his wife Fatimah the Dung and said, “So, when her annoy waxed on me, I fled from her towards the Gate of Victory and went forth the city. Presently, the rain fell heavy on me; so I entered a ruined cell in the Adiliyah and sat there, weeping; whereupon there came forth to me the Haunter of the place, which was an Ifrit of the Jinn, and questioned me. I acquainted him with my case and he took me on his back and flew with me all night between heaven and earth, till he set me down on yonder mountain and gave me to know of this city. So I came down from the mountain and entered the city, when people crowded about me and questioned me. I told them that I had left Cairo yesterday, but they believed me not, and presently thou camest up and driving the folk away from me, carriedst me this house. Such, then, is the cause of my quitting Cairo; and thou, what object brought thee hither?” Quoth Ali, “The giddiness8 of folly turned my head when I was seven years old, from which time I wandered from land to land and city to city, till I came to this city, the name whereof is Ikhtiyán al-Khatan.9 I found its people an hospitable folk and a kindly, compassionate for the poor man and selling to him on credit and believing all he said. So quoth I to them:— I am a merchant and have preceded my packs and I need a place wherein to bestow my baggage. And they believed me and assigned me a lodging. Then quoth I to them:— Is there any of you will lend me a thousand dinars, till my loads arrive, when I will repay it to him; for I am in want of certain things before my goods come? They gave me what I asked and I went to the merchants’ bazar, where, seeing goods, I bought them and sold them next day at a profit of fifty gold pieces and bought others.10 And I consorted with the folk and entreated them liberally, so that they loved me, and I continued to sell and buy, till I grew rich. Know, O my brother, that the proverb saith, The world is show and trickery: and the land where none wotteth thee, there do whatso liketh thee. Thou too, an thou say to all who ask thee, I’m a cobbler by trade and poor withal, and I fled from my wife and left Cairo yesterday, they will not believe thee and thou wilt be a laughing-stock among them as long as thou abidest in the city; whilst, an thou tell them, An Ifrit brought me hither, they will take fright at thee and none will come near thee; for they will say, This man is possessed of an Ifrit and harm will betide whoso approacheth him. And such public report will be dishonouring both to thee and to me, because they ken I come from Cairo.” Ma’aruf asked:—“How then shall I do?”; and Ali answered, “I will tell thee how thou shalt do, Inshallah! To-morrow I will give thee a thousand dinars and a she-mule to ride and a black slave, who shall walk before thee and guide thee to the gate of the merchants’ bazar; and do thou go into them. I will be there sitting amongst them, and when I see thee, I will rise to thee and salute thee with the salam and kiss thy hand and make a great man of thee. Whenever I ask thee of any kind of stuff, saying, Hast thou brought with thee aught of such a kind? do thou answer, “Plenty.11” And if they question me of thee, I will praise thee and magnify thee in their eyes and say to them, Get him a store-house and a shop. I also will give thee out for a man of great wealth and generosity; and if a beggar come to thee, bestow upon him what thou mayst; so will they put faith in what I say and believe in thy greatness and generosity and love thee. Then will I invite thee to my house and invite all the merchants on thy account and bring together thee and them, so that all may know thee and thou know them,”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The style is modern Cairene jargon.
2 Purses or gold pieces see vol. ix. 313.
3 i.e. I am a Cairene.
4 Arab. “Darb al-Ahmar,” a street still existing near to and outside the noble Bab Zuwaylah, for which see vol. i. 269.
5 Arab. “‘Attár,” perfume-seller and druggist; the word is connected with our “Ottar” (‘Atr).
6 Arab. “Mudarris” lit.=one who gives lessons or lectures (dars) and pop. applied to a professor in a collegiate mosque like Al–Azhar of Cairo.
7 This thoroughly dramatic scene is told with a charming naïveté. No wonder that The Nights has been made the basis of a national theatre amongst the Turks.
8 Arab. “Taysh” lit.=vertigo, swimming of head.
9 Here Trébutien (iii. 265) reads “la ville de Khaïtan (so the Mac. Edit. iv. 708) capital du royaume de Sohatan.” Ikhtiyán Lane suggests to be fictitious: Khatan is a district of Tartary east of Káshgar, so called by Sádik al-Isfaháni p. 24.
10 This is a true picture of the tact and savoir faire of the Cairenes. It was a study to see how, under the late Khedive they managed to take precedence of Europeans who found themselves in the background before they knew it. For instance, every Bey, whose degree is that of a Colonel was made an “Excellency” and ranked accordingly at Court whilst his father, some poor Fellah, was ploughing the ground. Tanfík Pasha began his ill-omened rule by always placing natives close to him in the place of honour, addressing them first and otherwise snubbing Europeans who, when English, were often too obtuse to notice the petty insults lavished upon them.
11 Arab. “Kathír” (pron. Katir)=much: here used in its slang sense, “no end.”
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchant Ali said to Ma’aruf, “I will invite thee to my house and invite all the merchants on thy account and bring together thee and them, so that all may know thee and thou know them, whereby thou shalt sell and buy and take and give with them; nor will it be long ere thou become a man of money.” Accordingly, on the morrow he gave him a thousand dinars and a suit of clothes and a black slave and mounting him on a she-mule, said to him, “Allah give thee quittance of responsibility for all this,1 inasmuch as thou art my friend and it behoveth me to deal generously with thee. Have no care; but put away from thee the thought of thy wife’s misways and name her not to any.” “Allah requite thee with good!” replied Ma’aruf and rode on, preceded by his blackamoor till the slave brought him to the gate of the merchants’ bazar, where they were all seated, and amongst them Ali, who when he saw him, rose and threw himself upon him, crying, “A blessed day, O Merchant Ma’aruf, O man of good works and kindness2!” And he kissed his hand before the merchants and said to them, “Our brothers, ye are honoured by knowing3 the merchant Ma’aruf.” So they saluted him, and Ali signed to them to make much of him, wherefore he was magnified in their eyes. Then Ali helped him to dismount from his she-mule and saluted him with the salam; after which he took the merchants apart, one after other, and vaunted Ma’aruf to them. They asked, “Is this man a merchant?;” and he answered, “Yes; and indeed he is the chiefest of merchants, there liveth not a wealthier than he; for his wealth and the riches of his father and forefathers are famous among the merchants of Cairo. He hath partners in Hind and Sind and Al–Yaman and is high in repute for generosity. So know ye his rank and exalt ye his degree and do him service, and wot also that his coming to your city is not for the sake of traffic, and none other save to divert himself with the sight of folk’s countries: indeed, he hath no need of strangerhood for the sake of gain and profit, having wealth that fires cannot consume, and I am one of his servants.” And he ceased not to extol him, till they set him above their heads and began to tell one another of his qualities. Then they gathered round him and offered him junkets4 and sherbets, and even the Consul of the Merchants came to him and saluted him; whilst Ali proceeded to ask him, in the presence of the traders, “O my lord, haply thou hast brought with thee somewhat of such and such a stuff?”; and Ma’aruf answered,“Plenty.” Now Ali had that day shown him various kinds of costly clothes and had taught him the names of the different stuffs, dear and cheap. Then said one of the merchants, “O my lord, hast thou brought with thee yellow broad cloth?”: and Ma’aruf said, “Plenty”! Quoth another, “And gazelles’ blood red5?”; and quoth the Cobbler, “Plenty”; and as often as he asked him of aught, he made him the same answer. So the other said, “O Merchant Ali had thy countryman a mind to transport a thousand loads of costly stuffs, he could do so”; and Ali said, “He would take them from a single one of his store-houses, and miss naught thereof.” Now whilst they were sitting, behold, up came a beggar and went the round of the merchants. One gave him a half dirham and another a copper,6 but most of them gave him nothing, till he came to Ma’aruf who pulled out a handful of gold and gave it to him, whereupon he blessed him and went his ways. The merchants marvelled at this and said, “Verily, this is a King’s bestowal for he gave the beggar gold without count, and were he not a man of vast wealth and money without end, he had not given a beggar a handful of gold.” After a while, there came to him a poor woman and he gave her a handful of gold; whereupon she went away, blessing him, and told the other beggars, who came to him, one after other, and he gave them each a handful of gold, till he disbursed the thousand dinars. Then he struck hand upon hand and said, “Allah is our sufficient aid and excellent is the Agent!” Quoth the Consul, “What aileth thee, O Merchant Ma’aruf?”; and quoth he, “It seemeth that the most part of the people of this city are poor and needy; had I known their misery I would have brought with me a large sum of money in my saddle-bags and given largesse thereof to the poor. I fear me I may be long abroad7 and ’tis not in my nature to baulk a beggar; and I have no gold left: so, if a pauper come to me, what shall I say to him?” Quoth the Consul, “Say, Allah will send thee thy daily bread8!”; but Ma’aruf replied, “That is not my practice and I am care-ridden because of this. Would I had other thousand dinars, wherewith to give alms till my baggage come!” “Have no care for that,” quoth the Consul and sending one of his dependents for a thousand dinars, handed them to Ma’aruf, who went on giving them to every beggar who passed till the call to noon-prayer. Then they entered the Cathedral-mosque and prayed the noon-prayers, and what was left him of the thousand gold pieces he scattered on the heads of the worshippers. This drew the people’s attention to him and they blessed him, whilst the merchants marvelled at the abundance of his generosity and openhandedness. Then he turned to another trader and borrowing of him other thousand ducats, gave these also away, whilst Merchant Ali looked on at what he did, but could not speak. He ceased not to do thus till the call to mid-afternoon prayer, when he entered the mosque and prayed and distributed the rest of the money. On this wise, by the time they locked the doors of the bazar,9 he had borrowed five thousand sequins and given them away, saying to every one of whom he took aught, “Wait till my baggage come when, if thou desire gold I will give thee gold, and if thou desire stuffs, thou shalt have stuffs; for I have no end of them.” At eventide Merchant Ali invited Ma’aruf and the rest of the traders to an entertainment and seated him in the upper end, the place of honour, where he talked of nothing but cloths and jewels, and whenever they made mention to him of aught, he said, “I have plenty of it.” Next day, he again repaired to the market-street where he showed a friendly bias towards the merchants and borrowed of them more money, which he distributed to the poor: nor did he leave doing thus twenty days, till he had borrowed threescore thousand dinars, and still there came no baggage, no, nor a burning plague.10 At last folk began to clamour for their money and say, “The merchant Ma’aruf’s baggage cometh not. How long will he take people’s monies and give them to the poor?” And quoth one of them, “My rede is that we speak to Merchant Ali.” So they went to him and said, “O Merchant Ali, Merchant Ma’aruf’s baggage cometh not.” Said he, “Have patience, it cannot fail to come soon.” Then he took Ma’aruf aside and said to him, “O Ma’aruf, what fashion is this? Did I bid thee brown11 the bread or burn it? The merchants clamour for their coin and tell me that thou owest them sixty thousand dinars, which thou hast borrowed and given away to the poor. How wilt thou satisfy the folk, seeing that thou neither sellest nor buyest?” Said Ma’aruf, “What matters it12; and what are threescore thousand dinars? When my baggage shall come, I will pay them in stuffs or in gold and silver, as they will.” Quoth Merchant Ali, “Allah is Most Great! Hast thou then any baggage?”; and he said, “Plenty.” Cried the other, “Allah and the Hallows13 requite thee thine impudence! Did I teach thee this saying, that thou shouldst repeat it to me? But I will acquaint the folk with thee.” Ma’aruf rejoined, “Begone and prate no more! Am I a poor man? I have endless wealth in my baggage and as soon as it cometh, they shall have their money’s worth two for one. I have no need of them.” At this Merchant Ali waxed wroth and said, “Unmannerly wight that thou art, I will teach thee to lie to me and be not ashamed!” Said Ma’aruf, “E’en work the worst thy hand can do! They must wait till my baggage come, when they shall have their due and more.” So Ali left him and went away, saying in himself, “I praised him whilome and if I blame him now, I make myself out a liar and become of those of whom it is said:— Whoso praiseth and then blameth lieth twice.”14 And he knew not what to do. Presently, the traders came to him and said, “O Merchant Ali, hast thou spoken to him?” Said he, “O folk, I am ashamed and, though he owe me a thousand dinars, I cannot speak to him. When ye lent him your money ye consulted me not; so ye have no claim on me. Dun him yourselves, and if he pay you not, complain of him to the King of the city, saying:— He is an impostor who hath imposed upon us. And he will deliver you from the plague of him.” Accordingly, they repaired to the King and told him what had passed, saying, “O King of the age, we are perplexed anent this merchant, whose generosity is excessive; for he doeth thus and thus, and all he borroweth, he giveth away to the poor by handsful. Were he a man of naught, his sense would not suffer him to lavish gold on this wise; and were he a man of wealth, his good faith had been made manifest to us by the coming of his baggage; but we see none of his luggage, although he avoucheth that he hath baggage-train and hath preceded it. Now some time hath past, but there appeareth no sign of his baggage-train, and he oweth us sixty thousand gold pieces, all of which he hath given away in alms.” And they went on to praise him and extol his generosity. Now this King was a very covetous man, a more covetous than Ash’ab15; and when he heard tell of Ma’aruf’s generosity and openhandedness, greed of gain got the better of him and he said to his Wazir, “Were not this merchant a man of immense wealth, he had not shown all this munificence. His baggage-train will assuredly come, whereupon these merchants will flock to him and he will scatter amongst them riches galore. Now I have more right to this money than they; wherefore I have a mind to make friends with him and profess affection for him, so that, when his baggage cometh whatso the merchants would have had I shall get of him; and I will give him my daughter to wife and join his wealth to my wealth.” Replied the Wazir, “O King of the age, methinks he is naught but an impostor, and ’tis the impostor who ruineth the house of the covetous;”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. “May the Lord soon make thee able to repay me; but meanwhile I give it to thee for thy own free use.”
2 Punning upon his name. Much might be written upon the significance of names as ominous of good and evil; but the subject is far too extensive for a footnote.
3 Lane translates “Ánisa-kum” by “he hath delighted you by his arrival”; Mr. Payne “I commend him to you.”
4 Arab. “Fatúrát,”=light food for the early breakfast of which the “Fatírah”-cake was a favourite item. See vol. i. 300.
5 A dark red dye (Lane).
6 Arab. “Jadíd,” see vol. viii. 121.
7 Both the texts read thus, but the reading has little sense. Ma’aruf probably would say, “I fear that my loads will be long coming.”
8 One of the many formulas of polite refusal.
9 Each bazar, in a large city like Damascus, has its tall and heavy wooden doors which are locked every evening and opened in the morning by the Ghafir or guard. The “silver key,” however, always lets one in.
10 Arab. “Wa lá Kabbata hámiyah,” a Cairene vulgarism meaning, “There came nothing to profit him nor to rid the people of him.”
11 Arab. “Kammir,” i.e. brown it before the fire, toast it.
12 It is insinuated that he had lied till he himself believed the lie to be truth — not an uncommon process, I may remark.
13 Arab. “Rijál”=the Men, equivalent to the Walis, Saints or Santons; with perhaps an allusion to the Rijál al-Ghayb, the Invisible Controls concerning whom I have quoted Herklots in vol. ii. 211.
14 A saying attributed to Al–Hariri (Lane). It is good enough to be his: the Persians say, “Cut not down the tree thou plantedst,” and the idea is universal throughout the East.
15 A quotation from Al–Hariri (Ass. of the Badawin). Ash’ab (ob. A.H. 54), a Medinite servant of Caliph Osman, was proverbial for greed and sanguine, Micawber-like expectation of “windfalls.” The Scholiast Al–Sharíshi (of Xeres) describes him in Theophrastic style. He never saw a man put hand to pocket without expecting a present, or a funeral go by without hoping for a legacy, or a bridal procession without preparing his own house,
hoping they might bring the bride to him by mistake.
When asked if he knew aught greedier than himself he said “Yes; a sheep I once kept upon my terrace-roof seeing a rainbow mistook it for a rope of hay and jumping to seize it broke its neck!” Hence “Ash’ab’s sheep” became a by-word (Preston tells the tale in full, p. 288).
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir said to the King, “Methinks he is naught but an impostor, and ’tis the impostor who ruineth the house of the covetous;” the King said, “O Wazir, I will prove him and soon know if he be an impostor or a true man and whether he be a rearling of Fortune or not.” The Wazir asked, “And how wilt thou prove him?”; and the King answered, “I will send for him to the presence and entreat him with honour and give him a jewel which I have. An he know it and wot its price, he is a man of worth and wealth; but an he know it not, he is an impostor and an upstart and I will do him die by the foulest fashion of deaths.” So he sent for Ma’aruf, who came and saluted him. The King returned his salam and seating him beside himself, said to him, “Art thou the merchant Ma’aruf?” and said he, “Yes.” Quoth the King, “The merchants declare that thou owest them sixty thousand ducats. Is this true?” “Yes,” quoth he. Asked the King, “Then why dost thou not give them their money?”; and he answered, “Let them wait till my baggage come and I will repay them twofold. An they wish for gold, they shall have gold; and should they wish for silver, they shall have silver; or an they prefer for merchandise, I will give them merchandise; and to whom I owe a thousand I will give two thousand in requital of that wherewith he hath veiled my face before the poor; for I have plenty.” Then said the King, “O merchant, take this and look what is its kind and value.” And he gave him a jewel the bigness of a hazel-nut, which he had bought for a thousand sequins and not having its fellow, prized it highly. Ma’aruf took it and pressing it between his thumb and forefinger brake it, for it was brittle and would not brook the squeeze. Quoth the King, “Why hast thou broken the jewel?”; and Ma’aruf laughed and said, “O King of the age, this is no jewel. This is but a bittock of mineral worth a thousand dinars; why dost thou style it a jewel? A jewel I call such as is worth threescore and ten thousand gold pieces and this is called but a piece of stone. A jewel that is not of the bigness of a walnut hath no worth in my eyes and I take no account thereof. How cometh it, then, that thou, who art King, stylest this thing a jewel, when ’tis but a bit of mineral worth a thousand dinars? But ye are excusable, for that ye are poor folk and have not in your possession things of price.” The King asked, “O merchant, hast thou jewels such as those whereof thou speakest?”; and he answered, “Plenty.” Whereupon avarice overcame the King and he said, “Wilt thou give me real jewels?” Said Ma’aruf, “When my baggage-train shall come, I will give thee no end of jewels; and all that thou canst desire I have in plenty and will give thee, without price.” At this the King rejoiced and said to the traders, “Wend your ways and have patience with him, till his baggage arrive, when do ye come to me and receive your monies from me.” So they fared forth and the King turned to his to his Wazir and said to him, Pay court to Merchant Ma’aruf and take and give with him in talk and bespeak him of my daughter, Princess Dunyá, that he may wed her and so we gain these riches he hath.” Said the Wazir, “O King of the age, this man’s fashion misliketh me and methinks he is an impostor and a liar: so leave this whereof thou speakest lest thou lose thy daughter for naught.” Now this Minister had sued the King aforetime to give him his daughter to wife and he was willing to do so, but when she heard of it she consented not to marry him. Accordingly, the King said to him, “O traitor, thou desirest no good for me, because in past time thou soughtest my daughter in wedlock, but she would none of thee; so now thou wouldst cut off the way of her marriage and wouldst have the Princess lie fallow, that thou mayst take her; but hear from me one word. Thou hast no concern in this matter. How can he be an impostor and a liar, seeing that he knew the price of the jewel, even that for which I bought it, and brake it because it pleased him not? He hath jewels in plenty, and when he goeth in to my daughter and seeth her to be beautiful she will captivate his reason and he will love her and give her jewels and things of price: but, as for thee, thou wouldst forbid my daughter and myself these good things.” So the Minister was silent, for fear of the King’s anger, and said to himself, “Set the curs on the cattle1!” Then with show of friendly bias he betook himself to Ma’aruf and said to him, “His Highness the King loveth thee and hath a daughter, a winsome lady and a lovesome, to whom he is minded to marry thee. What sayst thou?” Said he, “No harm in that; but let him wait till my baggage come, for marriage-settlements on Kings’ daughters are large and their rank demandeth that they be not endowed save with a dowry befitting their degree. At this present I have no money with me till the coming of my baggage, for I have wealth in plenty and needs must I make her marriage-portion five thousand purses. Then I shall need a thousand purses to distribute amongst the poor and needy on my wedding-night, and other thousand to give to those who walk in the bridal procession and yet other thousand wherewith to provide provaunt for the troops and others2; and I shall want an hundred jewels to give to the Princess on the wedding-morning3 and other hundred gems to distribute among the slavegirls and eunuchs, for I must give each of them a jewel in honour of the bride; and I need wherewithal to clothe a thousand naked paupers, and alms too needs must be given. All this cannot be done till my baggage come; but I have plenty and, once it is here, I shall make no account of all this outlay.” The Wazir returned to the King and told him what Ma’aruf said, whereupon quoth he, “Since this is his wish, how canst thou style him impostor and liar?” Replied the Minister, “And I cease not to say this.” But the King chid him angrily and threatened him, saying, “By the life of my head, an thou cease not this talk, I will slay thee! Go back to him and fetch him to me and I will manage matters with him myself.” So the Wazir returned to Ma’aruf and said to him, “Come and speak with the King.” “I hear and I obey,” said Ma’aruf and went in to the King, who said to him, “Thou shalt not put me off with these excuses, for my treasury is full; so take the keys and spend all thou needest and give what thou wilt and clothe the poor and do thy desire and have no care for the girl and the handmaids. When the baggage shall come, do what thou wilt with thy wife, by way of generosity, and we will have patience with thee anent the marriage-portion till then, for there is no manner of difference betwixt me and thee; none at all.” Then he sent for the Shaykh Al–Islam4 and bade him write out the marriage-contract between his daughter and Merchant Ma’aruf, and he did so; after which the King gave the signal for beginning the wedding festivities and bade decorate the city. The kettle drums beat and the tables were spread with meats of all kinds and there came performers who paraded their tricks. Merchant Ma’aruf sat upon a throne in a parlour and the players and gymnasts and effeminates5 and dancing-men of wondrous movements and posture-makers of marvellous cunning came before him, whilst he called out to the treasurer and said to him, “Bring gold and silver.” So he brought gold and silver and Ma’aruf went round among the spectators and largessed each performer by the handful; and he gave alms to the poor and needy and clothes to the naked and it was a clamorous festival and a right merry. The treasurer could not bring money fast enough from the treasury, and the Wazir’s heart was like to burst for rage; but he dared not say a word, whilst Merchant Ali marvelled at this waste of wealth and said to Merchant Ma’aruf, “Allah and the Hallows visit this upon on thy head-sides6! Doth it not suffice thee to squander the traders’ money, but thou must squander that of the King to boot?” Replied Ma’aruf, “’Tis none of thy concern: whenas my baggage shall come, I will requite the King manifold.” And he went on lavishing money and saying in himself, “A burning plague! What will happen will happen and there is no flying from that which is fore-ordained.” The festivities ceased not for the space of forty days, and on the one-and-fortieth day, they made the bride’s cortège and all the Emirs and troops walked before her. When they brought her in before Ma’aruf, he began scattering gold on the people’s heads, and they made her a mighty fine procession, whilst Ma’aruf expended in her honour vast sums of money. Then they brought him in to Princess Dunya and he sat down on the high divan; after which they let fall the curtains and shut the doors and withdrew, leaving him alone with his bride; whereupon he smote hand upon hand and sat awhile sorrowful and saying, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Quoth the Princess, “O my lord, Allah preserve thee! What aileth thee that thou art troubled?” Quoth he, “And how should I be other than troubled, seeing that thy father hath embarrassed me and done with me a deed which is like the burning of green corn?” She asked, “And what hath my father done with thee? Tell me!”; and he answered, “He hath brought me in to thee before the coming of my baggage, and I want at very least an hundred jewels to distribute among thy handmaids, to each a jewel, so she might rejoice therein and say, My lord gave me a jewel on the night of his going in to my lady. This good deed would I have done in honour of thy station and for the increase of thy dignity; and I have no need to stint myself in lavishing jewels, for I have of them great plenty.” Rejoined she, “Be not concerned for that. As for me, trouble not thyself about me, for I will have patience with thee till thy baggage shall come, and as for my women have no care for them. Rise, doff thy clothes and take thy pleasure; and when the baggage cometh we shall get the jewels and the rest.” So he arose and putting off his clothes sat down on the bed and sought love-liesse and they fell to toying with each other. He laid his hand on her knee and she sat down in his lap and thrust her lip like a tit-bit of meat into his mouth, and that hour was such as maketh a man to forget his father and his mother. So he clasped her in his arms and strained her fast to his breast and sucked her lip, till the honey-dew ran out into his mouth; and he laid his hand under her left-armpit, whereupon his vitals and her vitals yearned for coition. Then he clapped her between the breasts and his hand slipped down between her thighs and she girded him with her legs, whereupon he made of the two parts proof amain and crying out, “O sire of the chin-veils twain7!” applied the priming and kindled the match and set it to the touch-hole and gave fire and breached the citadel in its four corners; so there befel the mystery8 concerning which there is no enquiry: and she cried the cry that needs must be cried.9 — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that while the Princess Dunyá cried the cry which must be cried, Merchant Ma’aruf abated her maidenhead and that night was one not to be counted among lives for that which it comprised of the enjoyment of the fair, clipping and dallying langue fourrée and futtering till the dawn of day, when he arose and entered the Hammam whence, after donning a suit for sovrans suitable he betook himself to the King’s Divan. All who were there rose to him and received him with honour and worship, giving him joy and invoking blessings upon him; and he sat down by the King’s side and asked, “Where is the treasurer?” They answered, “Here he is, before thee,” and he said to him, “Bring robes of honour for all the Wazirs and Emirs and dignitaries and clothe the therewith.” The treasurer brought him all he sought and he sat giving to all who came to him and lavishing largesse upon every man according to his station. On this wise he abode twenty days, whilst no baggage appeared for him nor aught else, till the treasurer was straitened by him to the uttermost and going in to the King, as he sat alone with the Wazir in Ma’aruf’s absence, kissed ground between his hands and said, “O King of the age, I must tell thee somewhat, lest haply thou blame me for not acquainting thee therewith. Know that the treasury is being exhausted; there is none but a little money left in it and in ten days more we shall shut it upon emptiness.” Quoth the King, “O Wazir, verily my son-in-law’s baggage-train tarrieth long and there appeareth no news thereof.” The Minister laughed and said, Allah be gracious to thee, O King of the age! Thou art none other but heedless with respect to this impostor, this liar. As thy head liveth, there is no baggage for him, no, nor a burning plague to rid us of him! Nay, he hath but imposed on thee without surcease, so that he hath wasted thy treasures and married thy daughter for naught. How long therefore wilt thou be heedless of this liar?” Then quoth the King, “O Wazir, how shall we do to learn the truth of his case?”; and quoth the Wazir, “O King of the age, none may come at a man’s secret but his wife; so send for thy daughter and let her come behind the curtain, that I may question her of the truth of his estate, to the intent that she may make question of him and acquaint us with his case.” Cried the King, “There is no harm in that; and as my head liveth, if it be proved that he is a liar and an impostor, I will verily do him die by the foulest of deaths!” Then he carried the Wazir into the sitting-chamber and sent for his daughter, who came behind the curtain, her husband being absent, and said, “What wouldst thou, O my father?” Said he “Speak with the Wazir.” So she asked, “Ho thou, the Wazir, what is thy will?”; and he answered, “O my lady, thou must know that thy husband hath squandered thy father’s substance and married thee without a dower; and he ceaseth not to promise us and break his promises, nor cometh there any tidings of his baggage; in short we would have thee inform us concerning him.” Quoth she, “Indeed his words be many, and he still cometh and promiseth me jewels and treasures and costly stuffs; but I see nothing.” Quoth the Wazir, “O my lady, canst thou this night take and give with him in talk and whisper to him:— Say me sooth and fear from me naught, for thou art become my husband and I will not transgress against thee. So tell me the truth of the matter and I will devise thee a device whereby thou shalt be set at rest. And do thou play near and far10 with him in words and profess love to him and win him to confess and after tell us the facts of his case.” And she answered, “O my papa, I know how I will make proof of him.” Then she went away and after supper her husband came in to her, according to his wont, whereupon Princess Dunya rose to him and took him under the armpit and wheedled him with winsomest wheedling (and all-sufficient11 are woman’s wiles whenas she would aught of men); and she ceased not to caress him and beguile him with speech sweeter than the honey till she stole his reason; and when she saw that he altogether inclined to her, she said to him, “O my beloved, O coolth of my eyes and fruit of my vitals, Allah never desolate me by less of thee nor Time sunder us twain me and thee! Indeed, the love of thee hath homed in my heart and the fire of passion hath consumed my liver, nor will I ever forsake thee or transgress against thee. But I would have thee tell me the truth, for that the sleights of falsehood profit not, nor do they secure credit at all seasons. How long wilt thou impose upon my father and lie to him? I fear lest thine affair be discovered to him, ere we can devise some device and he lay violent hands upon thee? So acquaint me with the facts of the case for naught shall befal thee save that which shall begladden thee; and, when thou shalt have spoken sooth, fear not harm shall betide thee. How often wilt thou declare that thou art a merchant a man of money and hast a luggage-train? This long while past thou sayest, My baggage! my baggage! but there appeareth no sign of thy baggage, and visible in thy face is anxiety on this account. So an there be no worth in thy words, tell me and I will contrive thee a contrivance whereby by thou shalt come off safe, Inshallah!” He replied, “I will tell thee the truth, and then do thou whatso thou wilt.” Rejoined she, “Speak and look thou speak soothly; for sooth is the ark of safety, and beware of lying, for it dishonoureth the liar and God-gifted is he who said:—
‘Ware that truth thou speak, albe sooth when said
Shall cause thee in threatenèd fire to fall:
And seek Allah’s approof, for most foolish he
Who shall anger his Lord to make friends with thrall.”
He said, “Know, then, O my lady, that I am no merchant and have no baggage, no, nor a burning plague; nay, I was but a cobbler in my own country and had a wife called Fatimah the Dung, with whom there befel me this and that.” And he told her his story from beginning to end; whereat she laughed and said, “Verily, thou art clever in the practice of lying and imposture!” Whereto he answered, “O my lady, may Allah Almighty preserve thee to veil sins and countervail chagrins!” Rejoined she, “Know, that thou imposedst upon my sire and deceivedst him by dint of thy deluding vaunts, so that of his greed for gain he married me to thee. Then thou squanderedst his wealth and the Wazir beareth thee a grudge for this. How many a time hath he spoken against thee to my father, saying, Indeed, he is an impostor, a liar! But my sire hearkened not to his say, for that he had sought me in wedlock and I consented not that he be baron and I femme. However, the time grew longsome upon my sire and he became straitened and said to me, Make him confess. So I have made thee confess and that which was covered is discovered. Now my father purposeth thee a mischief because of this; but thou art become my husband and I will never transgress against thee. An I told my father what I have learnt from thee, he would be certified of thy falsehood and imposture and that thou imposest upon Kings’ daughters and squanderest royal wealth: so would thine offence find with him no pardon and he would slay thee sans a doubt: wherefore it would be bruited among the folk that I married a man who was a liar, an impostor, and this would smirch mine honour. Furthermore an he kill thee, most like he will require me to wed another, and to such thing I will never consent; no, not though I die!12 So rise now and don a Mameluke’s dress and take these fifty thousand dinars of my monies, and mount a swift steed and get thee to a land whither the rule of my father doth not reach. Then make thee a merchant and send me a letter by a courier who shall bring it privily to me, that I may know in what land thou art, so I may send thee all my hand can attain. Thus shall thy wealth wax great and if my father die, I will send for thee, and thou shalt return in respect and honour; and if we die, thou or I and go to the mercy of God the Most Great, the Resurrection shall unite us. This, then, is the rede that is right: and while we both abide alive and well, I will not cease to send thee letters and monies. Arise ere the day wax bright and thou be in perplexed plight and perdition upon thy head alight!” Quoth he, “O my lady, I beseech thee of thy favour to bid me farewell with thine embracement;” and quoth she, “No harm in that.”13 So he embraced her and knew her carnally; after which he made the Ghusl-ablution; then, donning the dress of a white slave, he bade the syces saddle him a thoroughbred steed. Accordingly, they saddled him a courser and he mounted and farewelling his wife, rode forth the city at the last of the night, whilst all who saw him deemed him one of the Mamelukes of the Sultan going abroad on some business. Next morning, the King and his Wazir repaired to the sitting-chamber and sent for Princess Dunya who came behind the curtain; and her father said to her, “O my daughter, what sayst thou?” Said she, “I say, Allah blacken thy Wazir’s face, because he would have blackened my face in my husband’s eyes!” Asked the King, “How so?”; and she answered, “He came in to me yesterday; but, before I could name the matter to him, behold, in walked Faraj the Chief Eunuch, letter in hand, and said:— Ten white slaves stand under the palace window and have this letter, saying:— Kiss for us the hands of our lord, Merchant Ma’aruf, and give him this letter, for we are of his Mamelukes with the baggage, and it hath reached us that he hath wedded the King’s daughter, so we are come to acquaint him with that which befel us by the way. Accordingly I took the letter and read as follows:— From the five hundred Mamelukes to his highness our lord Merchant Ma’aruf. But further. We give thee to know that, after thou quittedst us, the Arabs14 came out upon us and attacked us. They were two thousand horse and we five hundred mounted slaves and there befel a mighty sore fight between us and them. They hindered us from the road thirty days doing battle with them and this is the cause of our tarrying from thee.”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. “Show a miser money and hold him back, if you can.”
2 He wants £40,000 to begin with.
3 i.e. Arab. “Sabíhat al-‘urs” the morning after the wedding. See vol. i. 269.
4 Another sign of modern composition as in Kamar al-Zaman II.
5 Arab. “Al–Jink” (from Turk.) are boys and youths mostly Jews, Armenians, Greeks and Turks, who dress in woman’s dress with long hair braided. Lane (M. E. chapts. xix. and xxv.) gives same account of the customs of the “Gink” (as the Egyptians call them) but cannot enter into details concerning these catamites. Respectable Moslems often employ them to dance at festivals in preference to the Ghawázi-women, a freak of Mohammedan decorum. When they grow old they often preserve their costume, and a glance at them makes a European’s blood run cold.
6 Lane translates this, “May Allah and the Rijal retaliate upon thy temple!”
7 Arab. “Yá aba ‘l-lithámayn,” addressed to his member. Lathm the root means kissing or breaking; so he would say, “O thou who canst take her maidenhead whilst my tongue does away with the virginity of her mouth.” “He breached the citadel” (which is usually square) “in its four corners” signifying that he utterly broke it down.
8 A mystery to the Author of Proverbs (xxx. 18–19),
There be three things which are too wondrous for me, The way of an eagle in the air; The way of a snake upon a rock; And the way of a man with a maid.
9 Several women have described the pain to me as much resembling the drawing of a tooth.
10 As we should say, “play fast and loose.”
11 Arab. “Náhí-ka” lit.=thy prohibition but idiomatically used=let it suffice thee!
12 A character-sketch like that of Princess Dunya makes ample amends for a book full of abuse of women. And yet the superficial say that none of the characters have much personal individuality.
13 This is indeed one of the touches of nature which makes all the world kin.
14 As we are in Tartary “Arabs” here means plundering nomades, like the Persian “Iliyát” and other shepherd races.
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Princess Dunya said to her sire, “My husband received a letter from his dependents ending with:— The Arabs hindered us from the road thirty days which is the cause of our being behind time. They also took from us of the luggage two hundred loads of cloth and slew of us fifty Mamelukes. When the news reached my husband, he cried, Allah disappoint them! What ailed them to wage war with the Arabs for the sake of two hundred loads of merchandise? What are two hundred loads? It behoved them not to tarry on that account, for verily the value of the two hundred loads is only some seven thousand dinars. But needs must I go to them and hasten them. As for that which the Arabs have taken, ’twill not be missed from the baggage, nor doth it weigh with me a whit, for I reckon it as if I had given it to them by way of an alms. Then he went down from me, laughing and taking no concern for the wastage of his wealth nor the slaughter of his slaves. As soon as he was gone, I looked out from the lattice and saw the ten Mamelukes who had brought him the letter, as they were moons, each clad in a suit of clothes worth two thousand dinars, there is not with my father a chattel to match one of them. He went forth with them to bring up his baggage and hallowed be Allah who hindered me from saying to him aught of that thou badest me, for he would have made mock of me and thee, and haply he would have eyed me with the eye of disparagement and hated me. But the fault is all with thy Wazir,1 who speaketh against my husband words that besit him not.” Replied the King, “O my daughter, thy husband’s wealth is indeed endless and he recketh not of it; for, from the day he entered our city, he hath done naught but give alms to the poor. Inshallah, he will speedily return with the baggage, and good in plenty shall betide us from him.” And he went on to appease her and menace the Wazir, being duped by her device. So fared it with the King; but as regards Merchant Ma’aruf he rode on into waste lands, perplexed and knowing not to what quarter he should betake him; and for the anguish of parting he lamented and in the pangs of passion and love-longing he recited these couplets:—
Time falsed our Union and divided who were one in tway;
And the sore tyranny of Time doth melt my heart away:
Mine eyes ne’er cease to drop the tear for parting with my dear;
When shall Disunion come to end and dawn the Union-day?
O favour like the full moon’s face of sheen, indeed I’m he
Whom thou didst leave with vitals torn when faring on thy way.
Would I had never seen thy sight, or met thee for an hour;
Since after sweetest taste of thee to bitters I’m a prey.
Ma’aruf will never cease to be enthralled by Dunyá’s2 charms
And long live she albe he die whom love and longing slay,
O brilliance, like resplendent sun of noontide, deign them heal
His heart for kindness3 and the fire of longing love allay!
Would Heaven I wot an e’er the days shall deign conjoin our lots,
Join us in pleasant talk o’ nights, in Union glad and gay:
Shall my love’s palace hold two hearts that savour joy, and I
Strain to my breast the branch I saw upon the sand-hill4 sway?
O favour of full moon in sheen, never may sun o’ thee
Surcease to rise from Eastern rim with all-enlightening ray!
I’m well content with passion-pine and all its bane and bate
For luck in love is evermore the butt of jealous Fate.
And when he ended his verses, he wept with sore weeping, for indeed the ways were walled up before his face and death seemed to him better than dreeing life, and he walked on like a drunken man for stress of distraction, and stayed not till noontide, when he came to a little town and saw a plougher hard by, ploughing with a yoke of bulls. Now hunger was sore upon him; and he went up to the ploughman and said to him, “Peace be with thee!”; and he returned his salam and said to him, “Welcome, O my lord! Art thou one of the Sultan’s Mamelukes?” Quoth Ma’aruf, “Yes;” and the other said “Alight with me for a guest-meal.” Whereupon Ma’aruf knew him to be of the liberal and said to him, “O my brother, I see with thee naught with which thou mayst feed me: how is it, then, that thou invitest me?” Answered the husbandman, “O my lord, weal is well nigh.5 Dismount thee here: the town is near hand and I will go and fetch thee dinner and fodder for thy stallion.” Rejoined Ma’aruf, “Since the town is near at hand, I can go thither as quickly as thou canst and buy me what I have a mind to in the bazar and eat.” The peasant replied, “O my lord, the place is but a little village6 and there is no bazar there, neither selling nor buying. So I conjure thee by Allah, alight here with me and hearten my heart, and I will run thither and return to thee in haste.” Accordingly lie dismounted and the Fellah left him and went off to the village, to fetch dinner for him whilst Ma’aruf sat awaiting him. Presently he said in himself, “I have taken this poor man away from his work; but I will arise and plough in his stead, till he come back, to make up for having hindered him from his work.7” Then he took the plough and starting the bulls, ploughed a little, till the share struck against something and the beasts stopped. He goaded them on, but they could not move the plough; so he looked at the share and finding it caught in a ring of gold, cleared away the soil and saw that it was set centre-most a slab of alabaster, the size of the nether millstone. He strave at the stone till he pulled it from its place, when there appeared beneath it a souterrain with a stair. Presently he descended the flight of steps and came to a place like a Hammam, with four daïses, the first full of gold, from floor to roof, the second full of emeralds and pearls and coral also from ground to ceiling; the third of jacinths and rubies and turquoises and the fourth of diamonds and all manner other preciousest stones. At the upper end of the place stood a coffer of clearest crystal, full of union-gems each the size of a walnut, and upon the coffer lay a casket of gold, the bigness of a lemon. When he saw this, he marvelled and rejoiced with joy exceeding and said to himself, “I wonder what is in this casket?” So he opened it and found therein a seal-ring of gold, whereon were graven names and talismans, as they were the tracks of creeping ants. He rubbed the ring and behold, a voice said, “Adsum! Here am I, at thy service, O my lord! Ask and it shall be given unto thee. Wilt thou raise a city or ruin a capital or kill a king or dig a river-channel or aught of the kind? Whatso thou seekest, it shall come to pass, by leave of the King of All-might, Creator of day and night.” Ma’aruf asked, “O creature of my lord, who and what art thou?”; and the other answered, “I am the slave of this seal-ring standing in the service of him who possesseth it. Whatsoever he seeketh, that I accomplish for him, and I have no excuse in neglecting that he biddeth me do; because I am Sultan over two-and-seventy tribes of the Jinn, each two-and-seventy thousand in number every one of which thousand ruleth over a thousand Marids, each Marid over a thousand Ifrits, each Ifrit over a thousand Satans and each Satan over a thousand Jinn: and they are all under command of me and may not gainsay me. As for me, I am spelled to this seal-ring and may not thwart whoso holdeth it. Lo! thou hast gotten hold of it and I am become thy slave; so ask what thou wilt, for I hearken to thy word and obey thy bidding; and if thou have need of me at any time, by land or by sea rub the signet-ring and thou wilt find me with thee. But beware of rubbing it twice in succession, or thou wilt consume me with the fire of the names graven thereon; and thus wouldst thou lose me and after regret me. Now I have acquainted thee with my case and — the Peace!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 The very cruelty of love which hates nothing so much as a rejected lover. The Princess, be it noted, is not supposed to be merely romancing, but speaking with the second sight, the clairvoyance, of perfect affection. Men seem to know very little upon this subject, though every one has at times been more or less startled by the abnormal introvision and divination of things hidden which are the property and prerogative of perfect love.
2 The name of the Princess meaning “The World,” not unusual amongst Moslem women.
3 Another pun upon his name, “Ma’aruf.”
4 Arab. “Naká,” the mound of pure sand which delights the eye of the Badawi leaving a town. See vol. i. 217, for the lines and explanation in Night cmlxiv. vol. ix. p. 250.
5 Euphemistic: “I will soon fetch thee food.” To say this bluntly might have brought misfortune.
6 Arab. “Kafr”=a village in Egypt and Syria e.g. Capernaum (Kafr Nahum).
7 He has all the bonhomie of the Cairene and will do a kindness whenever he can.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Slave of the Signet-ring acquainted Ma’aruf with his case, the Merchant asked him, “What is thy name?” and the Jinni answered, “My name is Abú al-Sa’ádát.1” Quoth Ma’aruf, “O Abú al-Sa’ádát what is this place and who enchanted thee in this casket?”; and quoth he, “O my lord, this is a treasure called the Hoard of Shaddád son of Ad, him who the base of ‘Many-columned Iram laid, the like of which in the lands was never made.2’ I was his slave in his lifetime and this is his seal-ring, which he laid up in his treasure; but it hath fallen to thy lot.” Ma’aruf enquired, “Canst thou transport that which is in this hoard to the surface of the earth?”; and the Jinni replied, “Yes! Nothing were easier.” Said Ma’aruf, “Bring it forth and leave naught.” So the Jinni signed with his hand to the ground, which clave asunder, and he sank and was absent a little while. Presently, there came forth young boys full of grace, and fair of face bearing golden baskets filled with gold which they emptied out and going away, returned with more; nor did they cease to transport the gold and jewels, till ere an hour had sped they said, “Naught is left in the hoard.” Thereupon out came Abú al-Sa’ádát and said to Ma’aruf, “O my lord, thou seest that we have brought forth all that was in the hoard.” Ma’aruf asked, “Who be these beautiful boys?” and the Jinni answered, “They are my sons. This matter merited not that I should muster for it the Marids, wherefore my sons have done thy desire and are honoured by such service. So ask what thou wilt beside this.” Quoth Ma’aruf, “Canst thou bring me he-mules and chests and fill the chests with the treasure and load them on the mules?” Quoth Abú al-Sa’ádát, “Nothing easier,” and cried a great cry; whereupon his sons presented themselves before him, to the number of eight hundred, and he said to them, “Let some of you take the semblance of he-mules and others of muleteers and handsome Mamelukes, the like of the least of whom is not found with any of the Kings; and others of you be transmewed to muleteers, and the rest to menials.” So seven hundred of them changed themselves into bât-mules and other hundred took the shape of slaves. Then Abú al-Sa’ádát called upon his Marids, who presented themselves between his hands and he commanded some of them to assume the aspect of horses saddled with saddles of gold crusted with jewels. And when Ma’aruf saw them do as he bade he cried, “Where be the chests?” They brought them before him and he said, “Pack the gold and the stones, each sort by itself.” So they packed them and loaded three hundred he-mules with them. Then asked Ma’aruf, “O Abú al-Sa’ádát, canst thou bring me some loads of costly stuffs?”; and the Jinni answered, “Wilt thou have Egyptian stuffs or Syrian or Persian or Indian or Greek?” Ma’aruf said, “Bring me an hundred loads of each kind, on five hundred mules;” and Abú al-Sa’ádát, “O my lord accord me delay that I may dispose my Marids for this and send a company of them to each country to fetch an hundred loads of its stuffs and then take the form of he-mules and return, carrying the stuffs.” Ma’aruf enquired, “What time dost thou want?”; and Abú al-Sa’ádát replied, “The time of the blackness of the night, and day shall not dawn ere thou have all thou desirest.” Said Ma’aruf, “I grant thee this time,” and bade them pitch him a pavilion. So they pitched it and he sat down therein and they brought him a table of food. Then said Abú al-Sa’ádát to him, “O my lord, tarry thou in this tent and these my sons shall guard thee: so fear thou nothing; for I go to muster my Marids and despatch them to do thy desire.” So saying, he departed, leaving Ma’aruf seated in the pavilion, with the table before him and the Jinni’s sons attending upon him, in the guise of slaves and servants and suite. And while he sat in this state behold, up came the husband man, with a great porringer of lentils3 and a nose-bag full of barley and seeing the pavilion pitched and the Mamelukes standing, hands upon breasts, thought that the Sultan was come and had halted on that stead. So he stood openmouthed and said in himself, “Would I had killed a couple of chickens and fried them red with clarified cow-butter for the Sultan!” And he would have turned back to kill the chickens as a regale for the Sultan; but Ma’aruf saw him and cried out to him and said to the Mamelukes, “Bring him hither.” So they brought him and his porringer of lentils before Ma’aruf, who said to him, “What is this?” Said the peasant, “This is thy dinner and thy horse’s fodder! Excuse me, for I thought not that the Sultan would come hither; and, had I known that, I would have killed a couple of chickens and entertained him in goodly guise.” Quoth Ma’aruf, “The Sultan is not come. I am his son-in-law and I was vexed with him. However he hath sent his officers to make his peace with me, and now I am minded to return to city. But thou hast made me this guest-meal without knowing me, and I accept it from thee, lentils though it be, and will not eat save of thy cheer.” Accordingly he bade him set the porringer amiddlemost the table and ate of it his sufficiency, whilst the Fellah filled his belly with those rich meats. Then Ma’aruf washed his hands and gave the Mamelukes leave to eat; so they fell upon the remains of the meal and ate; and, when the porringer was empty, he filled it with gold and gave it to the peasant, saying, “Carry this to thy dwelling and come to me in the city, and I will entreat thee with honour.” Thereupon the peasant took the porringer full of gold and returned to the village, driving the bulls before him and deeming himself akin to the King. Meanwhile, they brought Ma’aruf girls of the Brides of the Treasure,4 who smote on instruments of music and danced before him, and he passed that night in joyance and delight, a night not to be reckoned among lives. Hardly had dawned the day when there arose a great cloud of dust which presently lifting, discovered seven hundred mules laden with stuffs and attended by muleteers and baggage-tenders and cresset-bearers. With them came Abú al-Sa’ádát, riding on a she-mule, in the guise of a caravan-leader, and before him was a travelling-litter, with four corner-terminals5 of glittering red gold, set with gems. When Abú al-Sa’ádát came up to the tent, he dismounted and kissing the earth, said to Ma’aruf, “O my lord, thy desire hath been done to the uttermost and in the litter is a treasure-suit which hath not its match among Kings’ raiment: so don it and mount the litter and bid us do what thou wilt.” Quoth Ma’aruf, “O Abú al-Sa’ádát, I wish thee to go to the city of Ikhtiyan al-Khatan and present thyself to my father-in-law the King; and go thou not in to him but in the guise of a mortal courier;” and quoth he, “To hear is to obey.” So Ma’aruf wrote a letter to the Sultan and sealed it and Abú al-Sa’ádát took it and set out with it; and when he arrived, he found the King saying, “O Wazir, indeed my heart is concerned for my son-in-law and I fear lest the Arabs slay him. Would Heaven I wot whither he was bound, that I might have followed him with the troops! Would he had told me his destination!” Said the Wazir, “Allah be merciful to thee for this thy heedlessness! As thy head liveth, the wight saw that we were awake to him and feared dishonour and fled, for he is nothing but an impostor, a liar.” And behold, at this moment in came the courier and kissing ground before the King, wished him permanent glory and prosperity and length of life. Asked the King, “Who art thou and what is thy business?” “I am a courier,” answered the Jinni, “and thy son-in-law who is come with the baggage sendeth me to thee with a letter, and here it is!” So he took the letter and read therein these words, “After salutations galore to our uncle6 the glorious King! Know that I am at hand with the baggage-train: so come thou forth to meet me with the troops.” Cried the King, “Allah blacken thy brow, O Wazir! How often wilt thou defame my son-in-law’s name and call him liar and impostor? Behold, he is come with the baggage-train and thou art naught but a traitor.” The Minister hung his head ground-wards in shame and confusion and replied, “O King of the age, I said not this save because of the long delay of the baggage and because I feared the loss of the wealth he hath wasted.” The King exclaimed, “O traitor, what are my riches! Now that his baggage is come he will give me great plenty in their stead.” Then he bade decorate the city and going in to his daughter, said to her, “Good news for thee! Thy husband will be here anon with his baggage; for he hath sent me a letter to that effect and here am I now going forth to meet him.” The Princess Dunyá marvelled at this and said in herself, “This is a wondrous thing! Was he laughing at me and making mock of me, or had he a mind to try me, when he told me that he was a pauper? But Alhamdolillah, Glory to God, for that I failed not of my duty to him!” On this wise fared it in the palace; but as regards Merchant Ali, the Cairene, when he saw the decoration of the city and asked the cause thereof, they said to him, “The baggage-train of Merchant Ma’aruf, the King’s son-in-law, is come.” Said he, “Allah is Almighty! What a calamity is this man!7 He came to me, fleeing from his wife, and he was a poor man. Whence then should he get a baggage-train? But haply this is a device which the King’s daughter hath contrived for him, fearing his disgrace, and Kings are not unable to do anything. May Allah the Most High veil his fame and not bring him to public shame!”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 i.e. the Father of Prosperities: pron. Aboosa’ádát; as in the Tale of Hasan of Bassorah.
2 Koran lxxxix. “The Daybreak” which also mentions Thamud and Pharaoh.
3 In Egypt the cheapest and poorest of food, never seen at a hotel table d’hôte.
4 The beautiful girls who guard ensorcelled hoards: See vol. vi. 109.
5 Arab. “Asákir,” the ornaments of litters, which are either plain balls of metal or tapering cones based on crescents or on balls and crescents. See in Lane (M. E. chapt. xxiv.) the sketch of the Mahmal.
6 Arab. “Amm”=father’s brother, courteously used for “father-in-law,” which suggests having slept with his daughter, and which is indecent in writing. Thus by a pleasant fiction the husband represents himself as having married his first cousin.
7 i.e. a calamity to the enemy: see vol. ii. 87 and passim.
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Merchant Ali asked the cause of the decorations, they told him the truth of the case; so he blessed Merchant Ma’aruf and cried, “May Allah Almighty veil his fame and not bring him to public shame!” And all the merchants rejoiced and were glad for that they would get their monies. Then the King assembled his troops and rode forth, whilst Abú al-Sa’ádát returned to Ma’aruf and acquainted him with the delivering of the letter. Quoth Ma’aruf, “Bind on the loads;” and when they had done so, he donned the treasure-suit and mounting the litter became a thousand times greater and more majestic than the King. Then he set forward; but, when he had gone half-way, behold, the King met him with the troops, and seeing him riding in the Takhtrawan and clad in the dress aforesaid, threw himself upon him and saluted him, and giving him joy of his safety, greeted him with the greeting of peace. Then all the Lords of the land saluted him and it was made manifest that he had spoken the truth and that in him there was no lie. Presently he entered the city in such state procession as would have caused the gall-bladder of the lion to burst1 for envy and the traders pressed up to him and kissed his hands, whilst Merchant Ali said to him, “Thou hast played off this trick and it hath prospered to thy hand, O Shaykh of Impostors! But thou deservest it and may Allah the Most High increase thee of His bounty!”; whereupon Ma’aruf laughed. Then he entered the palace and sitting down on the throne said, “Carry the loads of gold into the treasury of my uncle the King and bring me the bales of cloth.” So they brought them to him and opened them before him, bale after bale, till they had unpacked the seven hundred loads, whereof he chose out the best and said, “Bear these to Princess Dunyá that she may distribute them among her slavegirls; and carry her also this coffer of jewels, that she may divide them among her handmaids and eunuchs.” Then he proceeded to make over to the merchants in whose debt he was stuffs by way of payment for their arrears, giving him whose due was a thousand, stuffs worth two thousand or more; after which he fell to distributing to the poor and needy, whilst the King looked on with greedy eyes and could not hinder him; nor did he cease largesse till he had made an end of the seven hundred loads, when he turned to the troops and proceeded to apportion amongst them emeralds and rubies and pearls and coral and other jewels by handsful, without count, till the King said to him, “Enough of this giving, O my son! There is but little left of the baggage.” But he said, “I have plenty.” Then indeed, his good faith was become manifest and none could give him the lie; and he had come to reck not of giving, for that the Slave of the Seal-ring brought him whatsoever he sought. Presently, the treasurer came in to the King and said, “O King of the age, the treasury is full indeed and will not hold the rest of the loads. Where shall we lay that which is left of the gold and jewels?” And he assigned to him another place. As for the Princess Dunya when she saw this, her joy redoubled and she marvelled and said in herself, “Would I wot how came he by all this wealth!” In like manner the traders rejoiced in that which he had given them and blessed him; whilst Merchant Ali marvelled and said to himself, “I wonder how he hath lied and swindled, that he hath gotten him all these treasures2? Had they come from the King’s daughter, he had not wasted them on this wise! But how excellent is his saying who said:—
When the Kings’ King giveth, in reverence pause
And venture not to enquire the cause:
Allah gives His gifts unto whom He will,
So respect and abide by His Holy Laws!”
So far concerning him; but as regards the King, he also marvelled with passing marvel at that which he saw of Ma’aruf’s generosity and open-handedness in the largesse of wealth. Then the Merchant went in to his wife, who met him, smiling and laughing-lipped and kissed his hand, saying, “Didst thou mock me or hadst thou a mind to prove me with thy saying:— I am a poor man and a fugitive from my wife? Praised be Allah for that I failed not of my duty to thee! For thou art my beloved and there is none dearer to me than thou, whether thou be rich or poor. But I would have thee tell me what didst thou design by these words.” Said Ma’aruf, “I wished to prove thee and see whether thy love were sincere or for the sake of wealth and the greed of worldly good. But now ’tis become manifest to me that thine affection is sincere and as thou art a true woman, so welcome to thee! I know thy worth.” Then he went apart into a place by himself and rubbed the seal-ring, whereupon Abu al-Sa’adat presented himself and said to him, “Adsum, at thy service! Ask what thou wilt.” Quoth Ma’aruf, “I want a treasure-suit and treasure-trinkets for my wife, including a necklace of forty unique jewels.” Quoth the Jinni, “To hear is to obey,” and brought him what he sought, whereupon Ma’aruf dismissed him and carrying the dress and ornaments in to his wife, laid them before her and said, “Take these and put them on and welcome!” When she saw this, her wits fled for joy, and she found among the ornaments a pair of anklets of gold set with jewels of the handiwork of the magicians, and bracelets and earrings and a belt3 such as no money could buy. So she donned the dress and ornaments and said to Ma’aruf, “O my lord, I will treasure these up for holidays and festivals.” But he answered, “Wear them always, for I have others in plenty.” And when she put them on and her women beheld her, they rejoiced and bussed his hands. Then he left them and going apart by himself, rubbed the seal-ring whereupon its slave appeared and he said to him, “Bring me an hundred suits of apparel, with their ornaments of gold.” “Hearing and obeying,” answered Abu al-Sa’adat and brought him the hundred suits, each with its ornaments wrapped up within it. Ma’aruf took them and called aloud to the slave-girls, who came to him and he gave them each a suit: so they donned them and became like the black-eyed girls of Paradise, whilst the Princess Dunya shone amongst them as the moon among the stars. One of the handmaids told the King of this and he came in to his daughter and saw her and her women dazzling all who beheld them; whereat he wondered with passing wonderment. Then he went out and calling his Wazir, said to him, “O Wazir, such and such things have happened; what sayst thou now of this affair?” Said he, “O King of the age, this be no merchant’s fashion; for a merchant keepeth a piece of linen by him for years and selleth it not but at a profit. How should a merchant have generosity such as this generosity, and whence should he get the like of these monies and jewels, of which but a slight matter is found with the Kings? So how should loads thereof be found with merchants? Needs must there be a cause for this; but, an thou wilt hearken to me, I will make the truth of the case manifest to thee.” Answered the King, “O Wazir, I will do thy bidding.” Rejoined the Minister, “Do thou foregather with thy son-in-law and make a show of affect to him and talk with him and say:— O my son-in-law, I have a mind to go, I and thou and the Wazir but no more, to a flower-garden that we may take our pleasure there. When we come to the garden, we will set on the table wine, and I will ply him therewith and compel him to drink; for, when he shall have drunken, he will lose his reason and his judgment will forsake him. Then we will question him of the truth of his case and he will discover to us his secrets, for wine is a traitor and Allah-gifted is he who said:—
When we drank the wine, and it crept its way
To the place of Secrets, I cried, “O stay!”
In my fear lest its influence stint my wits
And my friends spy matters that hidden lay.
When he hath told us the truth we shall ken his case and may deal with him as we will; because I fear for thee the consequences of this his present fashion: haply he will covet the kingship and win over the troops by generosity and lavishing money and so depose thee and take the kingdom from thee.” “True,” answered the King. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Both texts read “Asad” (lion) and Lane accepts it: there is no reason to change it for “Hásid” (Envier), the Lion being the Sultan of the Beasts and the most majestic.
2 The Cairene knew his fellow Cairene and was not to be taken in by him.
3 Arab. “Hizám”: Lane reads “Khizám”=a nose-ring for which see appendix to Lane’s M. E. The untrained European eye dislikes these decorations and there is certainly no beauty in the hoops which Hindu women insert through the nostrils, camel-fashion, as if to receive the cord-acting bridle. But a drop-pearl hanging to the septum is at least as pretty as the heavy pendants by which some European women lengthen their ears.
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir devised this device the King said to him, “Thou hast spoken sooth!”; and they passed the night on this agreement. And when morning morrowed the King went forth and sat in the guest-chamber, when lo, and behold! the grooms and serving-men came in to him in dismay. Quoth he, “What hath befallen you?”; and quoth they, “O King of the age, the Syces curried the horses and foddered them and the he-mules which brought the baggage; but, when we arose in the morning, we found that thy son-in-law’s Mamelukes had stolen the horses and mules. We searched the stables, but found neither horse nor mule; so we entered the lodging of the Mamelukes and found none there, nor know we how they fled.” The King marvelled at this, unknowing that the horses and Mamelukes were all Ifrits, the subjects of the Slave of the Spell, and asked the grooms, “O accursed how could a thousand beasts and five hundred slaves and servants flee without your knowledge?” Answered they, “We know not how it happened,” and he cried, “Go, and when your lord cometh forth of the Harim, tell him the case.” So they went out from before the King and sat down bewildered, till Ma’aruf came out and, seeing them chagrined enquired of them, “What may be the matter?” They told him all that had happened and he said, “What is their worth that ye should be concerned for them? Wend your ways.” And he sat laughing and was neither angry nor grieved concerning the case; whereupon the King looked in the Wazir’s face and said to him, “What manner of man is this, with whom wealth is of no worth? Needs must there be a reason for this?” Then they talked with him awhile and the King said to him, “O my son-in-law, I have a mind to go, I, thou and the Wazir, to a garden, where we may divert ourselves.” “No harm in that,” said Ma’aruf. So they went forth to a flower-garden, wherein every sort of fruit was of kinds twain and its waters were flowing and its trees towering and its birds carolling. There they entered a pavilion, whose sight did away sorrow from the soul, and sat talking, whilst the Minister entertained them with rare tales and quoted merry quips and mirth-provoking sayings and Ma’aruf attentively listened, till the time of dinner came, when they set on a tray of meats and a flagon of wine. When they had eaten and washed hands, the Wazir filled the cup and gave it to the King, who drank it off; then he filled a second and handed it to Ma’aruf, saying, “Take the cup of the drink to which Reason boweth neck in reverence.” Quoth Ma’aruf, “What is this, O Wazir?”; and quoth he, “This is the grizzled1 virgin and the old maid long kept at home,2 the giver of joy to hearts, whereof saith the poet:—
The feet of sturdy Miscreants3 went trampling heavy tread,
And she hath ta’en a vengeance dire on every Arab’s head.
A Káfir youth like fullest moon in darkness hands her round
Whose eyne are strongest cause of sin by him inspiritèd.
And Allah-gifted is he who said:—
’Tis as if wine and he who bears the bowl,
Rising to show her charms for man to see,4
Were dancing undurn-Sun whose face the moon
Of night adorned with stars of Gemini.
So subtle is her essence it would seem
Through every limb like course of soul runs she.
And how excellent is the saying of the poet:—
Slept in mine arms full Moon of brightest blee
Nor did that sun eclipse in goblet see:
I nighted spying fire whereto bow down
Magians, which bowed from ewer’s lip to me.
And that of another:—
It runs through every joint of them as runs
The surge of health returning to the sick.
And yet another:—
I marvel at its pressers, how they died
And left us aqua vitae — lymph of life!
And yet goodlier is the saying of Abu Nowas:—
Cease then to blame me, for thy blame doth anger bring
And with the draught that maddened me come med’cining:
A yellow girl5 whose court cures every carking care;
Did a stone touch it would with joy and glee upspring:
She riseth in her ewer during darkest night
The house with brightest, sheeniest light illumining:
And going round of youths to whom the world inclines6
Ne’er, save in whatso way they please, their hearts shall wring.
From hand of coynted7 lass begarbed like yarded lad,8
Wencher and Tribe of Lot alike enamouring,
She comes: and say to him who dares claim lore of love
Something hast learnt but still there’s many another thing.
But best of all is the saying of Ibn al-Mu’tazz9:—
On the shady woody island10 His showers Allah deign
Shed on Convent hight Abdún11 drop and drip of railing rain:
Oft the breezes of the morning have awakened me therein
When the Dawn shows her blaze,12 ere the bird of flight was fain;
And the voices of the monks that with chants awoke the walls
Black-frocked shavelings ever wont the cup amorn to drain.13
’Mid the throng how many fair with languour-kohl’d eyes14
And lids enfolding lovely orbs where black on white was lain,
In secret came to see me by shirt of night disguised
In terror and in caution a-hurrying amain!
Then I rose and spread my cheek like a carpet on his path
In homage, and with skirts wiped his trail from off the plain.
But threatening disgrace rose the Crescent in the sky
Like the paring of a nail yet the light would never wane:
Then happened whatso happened: I disdain to kiss and tell
So deem of us thy best and with queries never mell.
And gifted of God is he who saith:—
In the morn I am richest of men
And in joy at good news I start up
For I look on the liquid gold15
And I measure it out by the cup.
And how goodly is the saying of the poet:—
By Allah, this is th’ only alchemy
All said of other science false we see!
Carat of wine on hundredweight of woe
Transmuteth gloomiest grief to joy and glee.
And that of another:—
The glasses are heavy when empty brought
Till we charge them all with unmixèd wine.
Then so light are they that to fly they’re fain
As bodies lightened by soul divine.
And yet another:—
Wine-cup and ruby-wine high worship claim;
Dishonour ’twere to see their honour waste:
Bury me, when I’m dead, by side of vine
Whose veins shall moisten bones in clay misplaced;
Nor bury me in wold and wild, for I
Dread only after death no wine to taste.”16
And he ceased not to egg him on to the drink, naming to him such of the virtues of wine as he thought well and reciting to him what occurred to him of poetry and pleasantries on the subject, till Ma’aruf addressed himself to sucking the cup-lips and cared no longer for aught else. The Wazir ceased not to fill for him and he to drink and enjoy himself and make merry, till his wits wandered and he could not distinguish right from wrong. When the Minister saw that drunkenness had attained in him to utterest and the bounds transgressed, he said to him, “By Allah, O Merchant Ma’aruf, I admire whence thou gottest these jewels whose like the Kings of the Chosroës possess not! In all our lives never saw we a merchant that had heaped up riches like unto thine or more generous than thou, for thy doings are the doings of Kings and not merchants’ doings. Wherefore, Allah upon thee, do thou acquaint me with this, that I may know thy rank and condition.” And he went on to test him with questions and cajole him, till Ma’aruf, being reft of reason, said to him, “I’m neither merchant nor King,” and told him his whole story from first to last. Then said the Wazir, “I conjure thee by Allah, O my lord Ma’aruf, show us the ring, that we may see its make.” So, in his drunkenness, he pulled off the ring and said, “Take it and look upon it.” The Minister took it and turning it over, said, “If I rub it, will its slave appear?” Replied Ma’aruf, “Yes. Rub it and he will appear to thee, and do thou divert thyself with the sight of him.” Thereupon the Wazir rubbed the ring and behold forthright appeared the Jinni and said, “Adsum, at thy service, O my lord! Ask and it shall be given to thee. Wilt thou ruin a city or raise a capital or kill a king? Whatso thou seekest, I will do for thee, sans fail.” The Wazir pointed to Ma’aruf and said, “Take up yonder wretch and cast him down in the most desolate of desert lands, where he shall find nothing to eat nor drink, so he may die of hunger and perish miserably, and none know of him.” Accordingly, the Jinni snatched him up and flew with him betwixt heaven and earth, which when Ma’aruf saw, he made sure of destruction and wept and said, “O Abu al-Sa’adat, whither goest thou with me?” Replied the Jinni, “I go to cast thee down in the Desert Quarter,17 O ill-bred wight of gross wits. Shall one have the like of this talisman and give it to the folk to gaze at? Verily, thou deservest that which hath befallen thee; and but that I fear Allah, I would let thee fall from a height of a thousand fathoms, nor shouldst thou reach the earth, till the winds had torn thee to shreds.” Ma’aruf was silent18 and did not again bespeak him till he reached the Desert Quarter and casting him down there, went away and left him in that horrible place. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Shamtá,” one of the many names of wine, the “speckled” alluding to the bubbles which dance upon the freshly filled cup.
2 i.e. in the cask. These “merry quips” strongly suggest the dismal toasts of our not remote ancestors.
3 Arab. “A’láj” plur. of “‘Ilj” and rendered by Lane “the stout foreign infidels.” The next line alludes to the cupbearer who was generally a slave and a non-Moslem.
4 As if it were a bride. See vol. vii. 198. The stars of Jauzá (Gemini) are the cupbearer’s eyes.
5 i.e. light-coloured wine.
6 The usual homage to youth and beauty.
7 Alluding to the cup.
8 Here Abu Nowas whose name always ushers in some abomination alluded to the “Ghulámiyah” or girl dressed like boy to act cupbearer. Civilisation has everywhere the same devices and the Bordels of London and Paris do not ignore the “she-boy,” who often opens the door.
9 Abdallah ibn al-Mu’tazz, son of Al–Mu’tazz bi ’llah, the 13th Abbaside, and great-great-grandson of Harun al-Rashid. He was one of the most renowned poets of the third century (A.H.) and died A.D. 908, strangled by the partisans of his nephew Al–Muktadir bi ’llah, 18th Abbaside.
10 Jazírat ibn Omar, an island and town on the Tigris north of Mosul. “Some versions of the poem, from which these verses are quoted, substitute El–Mutireh, a village near Samara (a town on the Tigris, 60 miles north of Baghdad), for El–Jezireh, i.e. Jeziret ibn Omar.” (Payne.)
11 The Convent of Abdun on the east bank of the Tigris opposite the Jezirah was so called from a statesman who caused it to be built. For a variant of these lines see Ibn Khallikan, vol. ii. 42; here we miss “the shady groves of Al–Matírah.”
12 Arab. “Ghurrah” the white blaze on a horse’s brow. In Ibn Khallikan the bird is the lark.
13 Arab. “Táy’i”=thirsty used with Jáy’i=hungry.
14 Lit. “Kohl’d with Ghunj” for which we have no better word than “coquetry.” But see vol. v. 80. It corresponds with the Latin crissare for women and cevere for men.
15 i.e. gold-coloured wine, as the Vino d’Oro.
16 Compare the charming song of Abu Miján translated from the German of Dr. Weil in Bohn’s Edit. of Ockley (p. 149),
When the Death-angel cometh mine eyes to close,
Dig my grave ’mid the vines on the hill’s fair side;
For though deep in earth may my bones repose,
The juice of the grape shall their food provide.
Ah, bury me not in a barren land,
Or Death will appear to me dread and drear!
While fearless I’ll wait what he hath in hand!
An the scent of the vineyard my spirit cheer.
The glorious old drinker!
17 Arab. “Rub’a al-Kharáb” in Ibn al-Wardi Central Africa south of the Nile-sources, one of the richest regions in the world. Here it prob. alludes to the Rub’a al-Kháli or Great Arabian Desert: for which see Night dclxxvi. In rhetoric it is opposed to the “Rub’a Maskún,” or populated fourth of the world, the rest being held to be ocean.
18 This is the noble resignation of the Moslem. What a dialogue there would have been in a European book between man and devil!
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Slave of the Seal-ring took up Ma’aruf and cast him down in the Desert Quarter where he left him and went his ways. So much concerning him; but returning to the Wazir who was now in possession of the talisman, he said to the King, “How deemest thou now? Did I not tell thee that this fellow was a liar, an impostor, but thou wouldst not credit me?” Replied the King, “Thou wast in the right, O my Wazir, Allah grant thee weal! But give me the ring, that I may solace myself with the sight.” The Minister looked at him angrily and spat in his face, saying, “O lack-wits, how shall I give it to thee and abide thy servant, after I am become thy master? But I will spare thee no more on life.” Then he rubbed the seal-ring and said to the Slave, “Take up this ill-mannered churl and cast him down by his son-in-law the swindler-man.” So the Jinni took him up and flew off with him, whereupon quoth the King to him, “O creature of my Lord, what is my crime?” Abu al-Sa’adat replied, “That wot I not, but my master hath commanded me and I cannot cross whoso hath compassed the enchanted ring.” Then he flew on with him, till he came to the Desert Quarter and, casting him down where he had cast Ma’aruf left him and returned. The King hearing Ma’aruf weeping, went up to him and acquainted him with his case; and they sat weeping over that which had befallen them and found neither meat nor drink. Meanwhile the Minister, after driving father-in-law and son-in-law from the country, went forth from the garden and summoning all the troops held a Divan, and told them what he had done with the King and Ma’aruf and acquainted them with the affair of the talisman, adding, “Unless ye make me Sultan over you, I will bid the Slave of the Seal-ring take you up one and all and cast you down in the Desert Quarter where you shall die of hunger and thirst.” They replied, “Do us no damage, for we accept thee as Sultan over us and will not anywise gainsay thy bidding.” So they agreed, in their own despite, to his being Sultan over them, and he bestowed on them robes of honour, seeking all he had a mind to of Abu al-Sa’adat, who brought it to him forthwith. Then he sat down on the throne and the troops did homage to him; and he sent to Princess Dunya, the King’s daughter, saying, “Make thee ready, for I mean to come in unto thee this night, because I long for thee with love.” When she heard this, she wept, for the case of her husband and father was grievous to her, and sent to him saying, “Have patience with me till my period of widowhood1 be ended: then draw up thy contract of marriage with me and go in to me according to law.” But he sent back to say to her, “I know neither period of widowhood nor to delay have I a mood; and I need not a contract nor know I lawful from unlawful; but needs must I go in unto thee this night.” She answered him saying, “So be it, then, and welcome to thee!”; but this was a trick on her part. When the answer reached the Wazir, he rejoiced and his breast was broadened, for that he was passionately in love with her. He bade set food before all the folk, saying, “Eat; this is my bride-feast; for I purpose to go in to the Princess Dunya this night.” Quoth the Shaykh al-Islam, “It is not lawful for thee to go in unto her till her days of widowhood be ended and thou have drawn up thy contract of marriage with her.” But he answered, “I know neither days of widowhood nor other period; so multiply not words on me.” The Shaykh al-Islam was silent,2 fearing his mischief, and said to the troops, “Verily, this man is a Kafir, a Miscreant, and hath neither creed nor religious conduct.” As soon as it was evenfall, he went in to her and found her robed in her richest raiment and decked with her goodliest adornments. When she saw him, she came to meet him, laughing and said, “A blessed night! But hadst thou slain my father and my husband, it had been more to my mind.” And he said, “There is no help but I slay them.” Then she made him sit down and began to jest with him and make show of love caressing him and smiling in his face so that his reason fled; but she cajoled him with her coaxing and cunning only that she might get possession of the ring and change his joy into calamity on the mother of his forehead:3 nor did she deal thus with him but after the rede of him who said4:—
I attained by my wits
What no sword had obtained, And return wi’ the spoils
Whose sweet pluckings I gained.
When he saw her caress him and smile upon him, desire surged up in him and he besought her of carnal knowledge; but, when he approached her, she drew away from him and burst into tears, saying, “O my lord, seest thou not the man looking at us? I conjure thee by Allah, screen me from his eyes! How canst thou know me what while he looketh on us?” When he heard this, he was angry and asked, “Where is the man?”; and answered she, “There he is, in the bezel of the ring! putting out his head and staring at us.” He thought that the Jinni was looking at them and said laughing, “Fear not; this is the Slave of the Seal-ring, and he is subject to me.” Quoth she, “I am afraid of Ifrits; pull it off and throw it afar from me.” So he plucked it off and laying it on the cushion, drew near to her, but she dealt him a kick, her foot striking him full in the stomach5, and he fell over on his back senseless; whereupon she cried out to her attendants, who came to her in haste, and said to them, “Seize him!” So forty slavegirls laid hold on him, whilst she hurriedly snatched up the ring from the cushion and rubbed it; whereupon Abu al-Sa’adat presented himself, saying, “Adsum, at thy service O my mistress.” Cried she, “Take up yonder Infidel and clap him in jail and shackle him heavily.” So he took him and throwing him into the Prison of Wrath6 returned and reported, “I have laid him in limbo.” Quoth she, “Whither wentest thou with my father and my husband?”; and quoth he, “I cast them down in the Desert Quarter.” Then cried she, “I command thee to fetch them to me forthwith.” He replied, “I hear and I obey,” and taking flight at once, stayed not till he reached the Desert Quarter, where he lighted down upon them and found them sitting weeping and complaining each to other. Quoth he, “Fear not, for relief is come to you”; and he told them what the Wazir had done, adding, “Indeed I imprisoned him with my own hands in obedience to her, and she hath bidden me bear you back.” And they rejoiced in his news. Then he took them both up and flew home with them; nor was it more than an hour before he brought them in to Princess Dunya, who rose and saluted sire and spouse. Then she made them sit down and brought them food and sweetmeats, and they passed the rest of the night with her. On the next day she clad them in rich clothing and said to the King, “O my papa, sit thou upon thy throne and be King as before and make my husband thy Wazir of the Right and tell thy troops that which hath happened. Then send for the Minister out of prison and do him die, and after burn him, for that he is a Miscreant, and would have gone in unto me in the way of lewdness, without the rites of wedlock and he hath testified against himself that he is an Infidel and believeth in no religion. And do tenderly by thy son-in-law, whom thou makest thy Wazir of the Right.” He replied, “Hearing and obeying, O my daughter. But do thou give me the ring or give it to thy husband.” Quoth she, “It behoveth not that either thou or he have the ring. I will keep the ring myself, and belike I shall be more careful of it than you. Whatso ye wish seek it of me and I will demand it for you of the Slave of the Seal-ring. So fear no harm so long as I live and after my death, do what ye twain will with the ring.” Quoth the King, “This is the right rede, O my daughter,” and taking his son-in-law went forth to the Divan. Now the troops had passed the night in sore chagrin for Princess Dunya and that which the Wazir had done with her, in going in to her after the way of lewdness, without marriage-rites, and for his ill-usage of the King and Ma’aruf, and they feared lest the law of Al–Islam be dishonoured, because it was manifest to them that he was a Kafir. So they assembled in the Divan and fell to reproaching the Shaykh al-Islam, saying, “Why didst thou not forbid him from going in to the Princess in the way of lewdness?” Said he, “O folk, the man is a Miscreant and hath gotten possession of the ring and I and you may not prevail against him. But Almighty Allah will requite him his deed, and be ye silent, lest he slay you.” And as the host was thus engaged in talk, behold the King and Ma’aruf entered the Divan. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
1 Arab. “Al-‘iddah” the period of four months and ten days which must elapse before she could legally marry again. But this was a palpable wile: she was not sure of her husband’s death and he had not divorced her; so that although a “grass widow,” a “Strohwitwe” as the Germans say, she could not wed again either with or without interval.
2 Here the silence is of cowardice and the passage is a fling at the “timeserving” of the Olema, a favourite theme, like “banging the bishops” amongst certain Westerns.
3 Arab. “Umm al-raas,” the poll, crown of the head, here the place where a calamity coming down from heaven would first alight.
4 From Al–Hariri (Lane): the lines are excellent.
5 When the charming Princess is so ready at the voie de faits, the reader will understand how common is such energetic action among women of lower degree. The “fair sex” in Egypt has a horrible way of murdering men, especially husbands, by tying them down and tearing out the testicles. See Lane M. E. chapt. xiii.
6 Arab. “Sijn al-Ghazab,” the dungeons appropriated to the worst of criminals where they suffer penalties far worse than hanging or guillotining.
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the troops sorely chagrined sat in the Divan talking over the ill-deeds done by the Wazir to their Sovran, his son-in-law and his daughter, behold, the King and Ma’aruf entered. Then the King bade decorate the city and sent to fetch the Wazir from the place of duresse. So they brought him, and as he passed by the troops, they cursed him and abused him and menaced him, till he came to the King, who commanded to do him dead by the vilest of deaths. Accordingly, they slew him and after burned his body, and he went to Hell after the foulest of plights; and right well quoth one of him:—
The Compassionate show no ruth to the tomb where his bones shall lie
And Munkar and eke Nakír1 ne’er cease to abide thereby!
The King made Ma’aruf his Wazir of the Right and the times were pleasant to them and their joys were untroubled. They abode thus five years till, in the sixth year, the King died and Princess Dunya made Ma’aruf Sultan in her father’s stead, but she gave him not the seal-ring. During this time she had conceived by him and borne him a boy of passing loveliness, excelling in beauty and perfection, who ceased not to be reared in the laps of nurses till he reached the age of five, when his mother fell sick of a deadly sickness and calling her husband to her, said to him, “I am ill.” Quoth he, “Allah preserve thee, O dearling of my heart!” But quoth she, “Haply I shall die and thou needest not that I commend to thy care thy son: wherefore I charge thee but be careful of the ring, for thine own sake and for the sake of this thy boy.” And he answered, “No harm shall befal him whom Allah preserveth!” Then she pulled off the ring and gave it to him, and on the morrow she was admitted to the mercy of Allah the Most High,2 whilst Ma’aruf abode in possession of the kingship and applied himself to the business of governing. Now it chanced that one day, as he shook the handkerchief3 and the troops withdrew to their places that he betook himself to the sitting-chamber, where he sat till the day departed and the night advanced with murks bedight. Then came in to him his cup-companions of the notables according to their custom, and sat with him by way of solace and diversion, till midnight, when they craved permission to withdraw. He gave them leave and they retired to their houses; after which there came in to him a slave-girl affected to the service of his bed, who spread him the mattress and doffing his apparel, clad him in his sleeping-gown. Then he lay down and she kneaded his feet, till sleep overpowered him; whereupon she withdrew to her own chamber and slept. But suddenly he felt something beside him in the bed and awaking started up in alarm and cried, “I seek refuge with Allah from Satan the stoned!” Then he opened his eyes and seeing by his side a woman foul of favour, said to her, “Who art thou?” Said she, “Fear not, I am thy wife Fatimah al-Urrah.” Whereupon he looked in her face and knew her by her loathly form and the length of her dog-teeth: so he asked her, “Whence camest thou in to me and who brought thee to this country?” “In what country art thou at this present?” “In the city of Ikhtiyan al-Khatan. But thou, when didst thou leave Cairo?” “But now.” “How can that be?” “Know,” said she, “that, when I fell out with thee and Satan prompted me to do thee a damage, I complained of thee to the magistrates, who sought for thee and the Kazis enquired of thee, but found thee not. When two days were past, repentance gat hold upon me and I knew that the fault was with me; but penitence availed me not, and I abode for some days weeping for thy loss, till what was in my hand failed and I was obliged to beg my bread. So I fell to begging of all, from the courted rich to the contemned poor, and since thou leftest me, I have eaten of the bitterness of beggary and have been in the sorriest of conditions. Every night I sat beweeping our separation and that which I suffered, since thy departure, of humiliation and ignominy, of abjection and misery.” And she went on to tell him what had befallen her, whilst he stared at her in amazement, till she said, “Yesterday, I went about begging all day but none gave me aught; and as often as I accosted any one and craved of him a crust of bread, he reviled me and gave me naught. When night came, I went to bed supperless, and hunger burned me and sore on me was that which I suffered: and I sat weeping when, behold, one appeared to me and said, O woman why weepest thou? Said I, erst I had a husband who used to provide for me and fulfil my wishes; but he is lost to me and I know not whither he went and have been in sore straits since he left me. Asked he, What is thy husband’s name? and I answered, His name is Ma’aruf. Quoth he, I ken him. Know that thy husband is now Sultan in a certain city, and if thou wilt, I will carry thee to him. Cried I, I am under thy protection: of thy bounty bring me to him! So he took me up and flew with me between heaven and earth, till he brought me to this pavilion and said to me:— Enter yonder chamber, and thou shalt see thy husband asleep on the couch. Accordingly I entered and found thee in this state of lordship. Indeed I had not thought thou wouldst forsake me, who am thy mate, and praised be Allah who hath united thee with me!” Quoth Ma’aruf, “Did I forsake thee or thou me? Thou complainedst of me from Kazi to Kazi and endedst by denouncing me to the High Court and bringing down on me Abú Tabak from the Citadel: so I fled in mine own despite.” And he went on to tell her all that had befallen him and how he was become Sultan and had married the King’s daughter and how his beloved Dunya had died, leaving him a son who was then seven years old. She rejoined, “That which happened was fore-ordained of Allah; but I repent me and I place myself under thy protection beseeching thee not to abandon me, but suffer me eat bread, with thee by way of an alms.” And she ceased not to humble herself to him and to supplicate him till his heart relented towards her and he said, “Repent from mischief and abide with me, and naught shall betide thee save what shall pleasure thee: but, an thou work any wickedness, I will slay thee nor fear any one. And fancy not that thou canst complain of me to the High Court and that Abu Tabak will come down on me from the Citadel; for I am become Sultan and the folk dread me: but I fear none save Allah Almighty, because I have a talismanic ring which when I rub, the Slave of the Signet appeareth to me. His name is Abu al-Sa’adat, and whatsoever I demand of him he bringeth to me. So, an thou desire to return to thine own country, I will give thee what shall suffice thee all thy life long and will send thee thither speedily; but, an thou desire to abide with me, I will clear for thee a palace and furnish it with the choicest of silks and appoint thee twenty slave-girls to serve thee and provide thee with dainty dishes and sumptuous suits, and thou shalt be a Queen and live in all delight till thou die or I die. What sayest thou of this?” “I wish to abide with thee,” she answered and kissed his hand and vowed repentance from frowardness. Accordingly he set apart a palace for her sole use and gave her slave-girls and eunuchs, and she became a Queen. The young Prince used to visit her as he visited his sire; but she hated him for that he was not her son; and when the boy saw that she looked on him with the eye of aversion and anger, he shunned her and took a dislike to her. As for Ma’aruf, he occupied himself with the love of fair handmaidens and bethought him not of his wife Fatimah the Dung, for that she was grown a grizzled old fright, foul-favoured to the sight, a bald-headed blight, loathlier than the snake speckled black and white; the more that she had beyond measure evil entreated him aforetime; and as saith the adage, “Ill-usage the root of desire disparts and sows hate in the soil of hearts;” and God-gifted is he who saith:—
Beware of losing hearts of men by thine injurious deed;
For when Aversion takes his place none may dear Love restore:
Hearts, when affection flies from them, are likest unto glass
Which broken, cannot whole be made — ’tis breached for evermore.
And indeed Ma’aruf had not given her shelter by reason of any praiseworthy quality in her, but he dealt with her thus generously only of desire for the approval of Allah Almighty. — Here Dunyazad interrupted her sister Shahrazad, saying, “How winsome are these words of thine which win hold of the heart more forcibly than enchanters’ eyne; and how beautiful are these wondrous books thou hast cited and the marvellous and singular tales thou hast recited!” Quoth Shahrazad, “And where is all this compared with what I shall relate to thee on the coming night, an I live and the King deign spare my days?” So when morning morrowed and the day brake in its sheen and shone, the King arose from his couch with breast broadened and in high expectation for the rest of the tale and saying, “By Allah, I will not slay her till I hear the last of her story;” repaired to his Durbár while the Wazir, as was his wont, presented himself at the Palace, shroud under arm. Shahriyar tarried abroad all that day, bidding and forbidding between man and man; after which he returned to his Harim and, according to his custom went in to his wife Shahrazad.4
1 According to some modern Moslems Munkar and Nakir visit the graves of Infidels (non-Moslems) and Bashshir and Mubashshir (“Givers of glad tidings”) those of Mohammedans. Petis de la Croix (Les Mille et un Jours vol. iii. 258) speaks of the “Zoubanya,” black angels who torture the damned under their chief Dabilah.
2 Very simple and pathetic is this short sketch of the noble-minded Princess’s death.
3 In sign of dismissal (vol. iv. 62) I have noted that “throwing the kerchief” is not an Eastern practice: the idea probably arose from the Oriental practice of sending presents in richly embroidered napkins and kerchiefs.
4 Curious to say both Lane and Payne omit this passage which appears in both texts (Mac. and Bul.). The object is evidently to prepare the reader for the ending by reverting to the beginning of the tale; and its prolixity has its effect as in the old Romances of Chivalry from Amadis of Ghaul to the Seven Champions of Christendom. If it provoke impatience, it also heightens expectation; “it is like the long elm-avenues of our forefathers; we wish ourselves at the end; but we know that at the end there is something great.”
Dunyazad said to her sister, “Do thou finish for us the History of Ma’aruf!” She replied, “With love and goodly gree, an my lord deign permit me recount it.” Quoth the King, “I permit thee; for that I am fain of hearing it.” So she said:— It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ma’aruf would have naught to do with his wife by way of conjugal duty. Now when she saw that he held aloof from her bed and occupied himself with other women, she hated him and jealousy gat the mastery of her and Iblis prompted her to take the seal-ring from him and slay him and make herself Queen in his stead. So she went forth one night from her pavilion, intending for that in which was her husband King Ma’aruf; and it chanced by decree of the Decreer and His written destiny, that Ma’aruf lay that night with one of his concubines; a damsel endowed with beauty and loveliness, symmetry and a stature all grace. And it was his wont, of the excellence of his piety, that, when he was minded to have to lie with a woman, he would doff the enchanted seal-ring from his finger, in reverence to the Holy Names graven thereon, and lay it on the Pillow, nor would he don it again till he had purified himself by the Ghusl-ablution. Moreover, when he had lain with a woman, he was used to order her go forth from him before daybreak, of his fear for the seal-ring; and when he went to the Hammam he locked the door of the pavilion till his return, when he put on the ring, and after this, all were free to enter according to custom. His wife Fatimah the Dung knew of all this and went not forth from her place till she had certified herself of the case. So she sallied out, when the night was dark, purposing to go in to him, whilst he was drowned in sleep, and steal the ring, unseen of him. Now it chanced at this time that the King’s son had gone out, without light, to the Chapel of Ease for an occasion, and sat down over the marble slab1 of the jakes in the dark, leaving the door open. Presently, he saw Fatimah come forth of her pavilion and make stealthily for that of his father and said in himself, “What aileth this witch to leave her lodging in the dead of the night and make for my father’s pavilion? Needs must there be some reason for this:” so he went out after her and followed in her steps unseen of her. Now he had a short sword of watered steel, which he held so dear that he went not to his father’s Divan, except he were girt therewith; and his father used to laugh at him and exclaim, “Mahallah!2 This is a mighty fine sword of thine, O my son! But thou hast not gone down with it to battle nor cut off a head therewith.” Whereupon the boy would reply, “I will not fail to cut off with it some head which deserveth3 cutting.” And Ma’aruf would laugh at his words. Now when treading in her track, he drew the sword from its sheath and he followed her till she came to his father’s pavilion and entered, whilst he stood and watched her from the door. He saw her searching about and heard her say to herself, “Where hath he laid the seal-ring?”; whereby he knew that she was looking for the ring and he waited till she found it and said, “Here it is.” Then she picked it up and turned to go out; but he hid behind the door. As she came forth, she looked at the ring and turned it about in her grasp. But when she was about to rub it, he raised his hand with the sword and smote her on the neck; and she cried a single cry and fell down dead. With this Ma’aruf awoke and seeing his wife strown on the ground, with her blood flowing, and his son standing with the drawn sword in his hand, said to him, “What is this, O my son?” He replied, “O my father, how often hast thou said to me, Thou hast a mighty fine sword; but thou hast not gone down with it to battle nor cut off a head. And I have answered thee, saying, I will not fail to cut off with it a head which deserveth cutting. And now, behold, I have therewith cut off for thee a head well worth the cutting!” And he told him what had passed. Ma’aruf sought for the seal-ring, but found it not; so he searched the dead woman’s body till he saw her hand closed upon it; whereupon he took it from her grasp and said to the boy, “Thou art indeed my very son, without doubt or dispute; Allah ease thee in this world and the next, even as thou hast eased me of this vile woman! Her attempt led only to her own destruction, and Allah-gifted is he who said:—
When forwards Allah’s aid a man’s intent,
His wish in every case shall find consent:
But an that aid of Allah be refused,
His first attempt shall do him damagement.”
Then King Ma’aruf called aloud to some of his attendants, who came in haste, and he told them what his wife Fatimah the Dung had done and bade them to take her and lay her in a place till the morning. They did his bidding, and next day he gave her in charge to a number of eunuchs, who washed her and shrouded her and made her a tomb4 and buried her. Thus her coming from Cairo was but to her grave, and Allah-gifted is he who said5:—
We trod the steps appointed for us: and he whose steps are appointed must tread them.
He whose death is decreed to take place in our land shall not die in any land but that.
And how excellent is the saying of the poet:—
I wot not, whenas to a land I fare,
Good luck pursuing, what my lot shall be.
Whether the fortune I perforce pursue
Or the misfortune which pursueth me.
After this, King Ma’aruf sent for the husbandman, whose guest he had been, when he was a fugitive, and made him his Wazir of the Right and his Chief Counsellor.6 Then, learning that he had a daughter of passing beauty and loveliness, of qualities nature-ennobled at birth and exalted of worth, he took her to wife; and in due time he married his son. So they abode awhile in all solace of life and its delight and their days were serene and their joys untroubled, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies, the Depopulator of populous places and the Orphaner of sons and daughters. And glory be to the Living who dieth not and in whose hand are the Keys of the Seen and the Unseen!”
1 Arab. “alà malákay bayti ‘l-ráhah;” on the two slabs at whose union are the round hole and longitudinal slit. See vol. i. 221.
2 Here the exclamation wards off the Evil Eye from the Sword and the wearer: Mr. Payne notes, “The old English exclamation ‘Cock’s ‘ill!’ (i.e., God’s will, thus corrupted for the purpose of evading the statute of 3 Jac. i. against profane swearing) exactly corresponds to the Arabic”— with a difference, I add.
3 Arab. “Mustahakk”=deserving (Lane) or worth (Payne) the cutting.
4 Arab. “Mashhad” the same as “Sháhid”=the upright stones at the head and foot of the grave. Lane mistranslates, “Made for her a funeral procession.”
5 These lines have occurred before. I quote Lane.
6 There is nothing strange in such sudden elevations amongst Moslems and even in Europe we still see them occasionally. The family in the East, however humble, is a model and miniature of the state, and learning is not always necessary to wisdom.
Now, during this time, Shahrazad had borne the King three boy children: so, when she had made an end of the story of Ma’aruf, she rose to her feet and kissing ground before him, said, “O King of the time and unique one1 of the age and the tide, I am thine handmaid and these thousand nights and a night have I entertained thee with stories of folk gone before and admonitory instances of the men of yore. May I then make bold to crave a boon of Thy Highness?” He replied, “Ask, O Shahrazad, and it shall be granted to thee.2” Whereupon she cried out to the nurses and the eunuchs, saying, “Bring me my children.” So they brought them to her in haste, and they were three boy children, one walking, one crawling and one sucking. She took them and setting them before the King, again kissed the ground and said, “O King of the age, these are thy children and I crave that thou release me from the doom of death, as a dole to these infants; for, an thou kill me, they will become motherless and will find none among women to rear them as they should be reared.” When the King heard this, he wept and straining the boys to his bosom, said, “By Allah, O Shahrazad, I pardoned thee before the coming of these children, for that I found thee chaste, pure, ingenuous and pious! Allah bless thee and thy father and thy mother and thy root and thy branch! I take the Almighty to witness against me that I exempt thee from aught that can harm thee.” So she kissed his hands and feet and rejoiced with exceeding joy, saying, The Lord make thy life long and increase thee in dignity and majesty3!”; presently adding, “Thou marvelledst at that which befel thee on the part of women; yet there betided the Kings of the Chosroës before thee greater mishaps and more grievous than that which hath befallen thee, and indeed I have set forth unto thee that which happened to Caliphs and Kings and others with their women, but the relation is longsome and hearkening groweth tedious, and in this is all sufficient warning for the man of wits and admonishment for the wise.” Then she ceased to speak, and when King Shahriyar heard her speech and profited by that which she said, he summoned up his reasoning powers and cleansed his heart and caused his understanding revert and turned to Allah Almighty and said to himself, “Since there befel the Kings of the Chosroës more than that which hath befallen me, never, whilst I live, shall I cease to blame myself for the past. As for this Shahrazad, her like is not found in the lands; so praise be to Him who appointed her a means for delivering His creatures from oppression and slaughter!” Then he arose from his séance and kissed her head, whereat she rejoiced, she and her sister Dunyazad, with exceeding joy. When the morning morrowed, the King went forth and sitting down on the throne of the Kingship, summoned the Lords of his land; whereupon the Chamberlains and Nabobs and Captains of the host went in to him and kissed ground before him. He distinguished the Wazir, Shahrazad’s sire, with special favour and bestowed on him a costly and splendid robe of honour and entreated him with the utmost kindness, and said to him, “Allah protect thee for that thou gavest me to wife thy noble daughter, who hath been the means of my repentance from slaying the daughters of folk. Indeed I have found her pure and pious, chaste and ingenuous, and Allah hath vouchsafed me by her three boy children; wherefore praised be He for his passing favour.” Then he bestowed robes of honour upon his Wazirs, and Emirs and Chief Officers and he set forth to them briefly that which had betided him with Shahrazad and how he had turned from his former ways and repented him of what he had done and purposed to take the Wazir’s daughter, Shahrazad, to wife and let draw up the marriage-contract with her. When those who were present heard this, they kissed the ground before him and blessed him and his betrothed4 Shahrazad, and the Wazir thanked her. Then Shahriyar made an end of his sitting in all weal, whereupon the folk dispersed to their dwelling-places and the news was bruited abroad that the King purposed to marry the Wazir’s daughter, Shahrazad. Then he proceeded to make ready the wedding gear, and presently he sent after his brother, King Shah Zaman, who came, and King Shahriyar went forth to meet him with the troops. Furthermore, they decorated the city after the goodliest fashion and diffused scents from censers and burnt aloes-wood and other perfumes in all the markets and thoroughfares and rubbed themselves with saffron,5 what while the drums beat and the flutes and pipes sounded and mimes and mountebanks played and plied their arts and the King lavished on them gifts and largesse; and in very deed it was a notable day. When they came to the palace, King Shahriyar commanded to spread the tables with beasts roasted whole and sweetmeats and all manner of viands and bade the crier cry to the folk that they should come up to the Divan and eat and drink and that this should be a means of reconciliation between him and them. So, high and low, great and small came up unto him and they abode on that wise, eating and drinking, seven days with their nights. Then the King shut himself up with his brother and related to him that which had betided him with the Wazir’s daughter, Shahrazad, during the past three years and told him what he had heard from her of proverbs and parables, chronicles and pleasantries, quips and jests, stories and anecdotes, dialogues and histories and elegies and other verses; whereat King Shah Zaman marvelled with the uttermost marvel and said, “Fain would I take her younger sister to wife, so we may be two brothers-german to two sisters-german, and they on like wise be sisters to us; for that the calamity which befel me was the cause of our discovering that which befel thee and all this time of three years past I have taken no delight in woman, save that I lie each night with a damsel of my kingdom, and every morning I do her to death; but now I desire to marry thy wife’s sister Dunyazad.” When King Shahriyar heard his brother’s words, he rejoiced with joy exceeding and arising forthright, went in to his wife Shahrazad and acquainted her with that which his brother purposed, namely that he sought her sister Dunyazad in wedlock; whereupon she answered, “O King of the age, we seek of him one condition, to wit, that he take up his abode with us, for that I cannot brook to be parted from my sister an hour, because we were brought up together and may not endure separation each from other.6 If he accept this pact, she is his handmaid.” King Shahriyar returned to his brother and acquainted him with that which Shahrazad had said; and he replied, “Indeed, this is what was in my mind, for that I desire nevermore to be parted from thee one hour. As for the kingdom, Allah the Most High shall send to it whomso He chooseth, for that I have no longer a desire for the kingship.” When King Shahriyar heard his brother’s words, he rejoiced exceedingly and said, “Verily, this is what I wished, O my brother. So Alhamdolillah — Praised be Allah — who hath brought about union between us.” Then he sent after the Kazis and Olema, Captains and Notables, and they married the two brothers to the two sisters. The contracts were written out and the two Kings bestowed robes of honour of silk and satin on those who were present, whilst the city was decorated and the rejoicings were renewed. The King commanded each Emir and Wazir and Chamberlain and Nabob to decorate his palace and the folk of the city were gladdened by the presage of happiness and contentment. King Shahriyar also bade slaughter sheep and set up kitchens and made bride-feasts and fed all comers, high and low; and he gave alms to the poor and needy and extended his bounty to great and small. Then the eunuchs went forth, that they might perfume the Hammam for the brides; so they scented it with rosewater and willow-flower-water and pods of musk and fumigated it with Kákilí7 eagle-wood and ambergris. Then Shahrazad entered, she and her sister Dunyazad, and they cleansed their heads and clipped their hair. When they came forth of the Hammam-bath, they donned raiment and ornaments; such as men were wont prepare for the Kings of the Chosroës; and among Shahrazad’s apparel was a dress purfled with red gold and wrought with counterfeit presentments of birds and beasts. And the two sisters encircled their necks with necklaces of jewels of price, in the like whereof Iskander8 rejoiced not, for therein were great jewels such as amazed the wit and dazzled the eye; and the imagination was bewildered at their charms, for indeed each of them was brighter than the sun and the moon. Before them they lighted brilliant flambeaux of wax in candelabra of gold, but their faces outshone the flambeaux, for that they had eyes sharper than unsheathed swords and the lashes of their eyelids bewitched all hearts. Their cheeks were rosy red and their necks and shapes gracefully swayed and their eyes wantoned like the gazelle’s; and the slave-girls came to meet them with instruments of music. Then the two Kings entered the Hammam-bath, and when they came forth, they sat down on a couch set with pearls and gems, whereupon the two sisters came up to them and stood between their hands, as they were moons, bending and leaning from side to side in their beauty and loveliness. Presently they brought forward Shahrazad and displayed her, for the first dress, in a red suit; whereupon King Shahriyar rose to look upon her and the wits of all present, men and women, were bewitched for that she was even as saith of her one of her describers9:—
A sun on wand in knoll of sand she showed,
Clad in her cramoisy-hued chemisette:
Of her lips’ honey-dew she gave me drink
And with her rosy cheeks quencht fire she set.
Then they attired Dunyazad in a dress of blue brocade and she became as she were the full moon when it shineth forth. So they displayed her in this, for the first dress, before King Shah Zaman, who rejoiced in her and well-nigh swooned away for love-longing and amorous desire; yea, he was distraught with passion for her, whenas he saw her, because she was as saith of her one of her describers in these couplets10:—
She comes apparelled in an azure vest
Ultramarine as skies are deckt and dight:
I view’d th’ unparallel’d sight, which showed my eyes
A Summer-moon upon a Winter-night.
Then they returned to Shahrazad and displayed her in the second dress, a suit of surpassing goodliness, and veiled her face with her hair like a chin-veil.11 Moreover, they let down her side-locks and she was even as saith of her one of her describers in these couplets:—
O hail to him whose locks his cheeks o’ershade,
Who slew my life by cruel hard despight:
Said I, “Hast veiled the Morn in Night?” He said,
“Nay I but veil Moon in hue of Night.”
Then they displayed Dunyazad in a second and a third and a fourth dress and she paced forward like the rising sun, and swayed to and fro in the insolence of beauty; and she was even as saith the poet of her in these couplets12:—
The sun of beauty she to all appears
And, lovely coy she mocks all loveliness:
And when he fronts her favour and her smile
A-morn, the sun of day in clouds must dress.
Then they displayed Shahrazad in the third dress and the fourth and the fifth and she became as she were a Bán-branch snell or a thirsting gazelle, lovely of face and perfect in attributes of grace, even as saith of her one in these couplets13:—
She comes like fullest moon on happy night.
Taper of waist with shape of magic might:
She hath an eye whose glances quell mankind,
And ruby on her cheeks reflects his light:
Enveils her hips the blackness of her hair;
Beware of curls that bite with viper-bite!
Her sides are silken-soft, that while the heart
Mere rock behind that surface ’scapes our sight:
From the fringed curtains of her eyne she shoots
Shafts that at furthest range on mark alight.
Then they returned to Dunyazad and displayed her in the fifth dress and in the sixth, which was green, when she surpassed with her loveliness the fair of the four quarters of the world and outvied, with the brightness of her countenance, the full moon at rising tide; for she was even as saith of her the poet in these couplets14:—
A damsel ’twas the tirer’s art had decked with snare and sleight,
And robed with rays as though the sun from her had borrowed light:
She came before us wondrous clad in chemisette of green,
As veilèd by his leafy screen Pomegranate hides from sight:
And when he said, “How callest thou the fashion of thy dress?”
She answered us in pleasant way with double meaning dight,
We call this garment crève-coeur; and rightly is it hight,
For many a heart wi’ this we brake and harried many a sprite.”
Then they displayed Shahrazad in the sixth and seventh dresses and clad her in youth’s clothing, whereupon she came forward swaying from side to side and coquettishly moving and indeed she ravished wits and hearts and ensorcelled all eyes with her glances. She shook her sides and swayed her haunches, then put her hair on sword-hilt and went up to King Shahriyar, who embraced her as hospitable host embraceth guest, and threatened her in her ear with the taking of the sword; and she was even as saith of her the poet in these words:—
Were not the Murk15 of gender male,
Than feminines surpassing fair,
Tirewomen they had grudged the bride,
Who made her beard and whiskers wear!
Thus also they did with her sister Dunyazad, and when they had made an end of the display the King bestowed robes of honour on all who were present and sent the brides to their own apartments. Then Shahrazad went in to King Shahriyar and Dunyazad to King Shah Zaman and each of them solaced himself with the company of his beloved consort and the hearts of the folk were comforted. When morning morrowed, the Wazir came in to the two Kings and kissed ground before them; wherefore they thanked him and were large of bounty to him. Presently they went forth and sat down upon couches of Kingship, whilst all the Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees and Lords of the land presented themselves and kissed ground. King Shahriyar ordered them dresses of honour and largesse and they prayed for the permanence and prosperity of the King and his brother. Then the two Sovrans appointed their sire-in-law the Wazir to be Viceroy in Samarcand and assigned him five of the Chief Emirs to accompany him, charging them attend him and do him service. The Minister kissed the ground and prayed that they might be vouchsafed length of life: then he went in to his daughters, whilst the Eunuchs and Ushers walked before him, and saluted them and farewelled them. They kissed his hands and gave him joy of the Kingship and bestowed on him immense treasures; after which he took leave of them and setting out, fared days and nights, till he came near Samarcand, where the townspeople met him at a distance of three marches and rejoiced in him with exceeding joy. So he entered the city and they decorated the houses and it was a notable day. He sat down on the throne of his kingship and the Wazirs did him homage and the Grandees and Emirs of Samarcand and all prayed that he might be vouchsafed justice and victory and length of continuance. So he bestowed on them robes of honour and entreated them with distinction and they made him Sultan over them. As soon as his father-in-law had departed for Samarcand, King Shahriyar summoned the Grandees of his realm and made them a stupendous banquet of all manner of delicious meats and exquisite sweetmeats. He also bestowed on them robes of honour and guerdoned them and divided the kingdoms between himself and his brother in their presence, whereat the folk rejoiced. Then the two Kings abode, each ruling a day in turn, and they were ever in harmony each with other while on similar wise their wives continued in the love of Allah Almighty and in thanksgiving to Him; and the peoples and the provinces were at peace and the preachers prayed for them from the pulpits, and their report was bruited abroad and the travellers bore tidings of them to all lands. In due time King Shahriyar summoned chroniclers and copyists and bade them write all that had betided him with his wife, first and last; so they wrote this and named it “The Stories of the Thousand Nights and A Night.” The book came to thirty volumes and these the King laid up in his treasury. And the two brothers abode with their wives in all pleasance and solace of life and its delights, for that indeed Allah the Most High had changed their annoy into joy; and on this wise they continued till there took them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies, the Desolator of dwelling-places and Garnerer of grave-yards, and they were translated to the ruth of Almighty Allah; their houses fell waste and their palaces lay in ruins16 and the Kings inherited their riches. Then there reigned after them a wise ruler, who was just, keen-witted and accomplished and loved tales and legends, especially those which chronicle the doings of Sovrans and Sultans, and he found in the treasury these marvellous stories and wondrous histories, contained in the thirty volumes aforesaid. So he read in them a first book and a second and a third and so on to the last of them, and each book astounded and delighted him more than that which preceded it, till he came to the end of them. Then he admired whatso he had read therein of description and discourse and rare traits and anecdotes and moral instances and reminiscences and bade the folk copy them and dispread them over all lands and climes; wherefore their report was bruited abroad and the people named them “The marvels and wonders of the Thousand Nights and A Night.” This is all that hath come down to us of the origin of this book, and Allah is All-knowing.17 So Glory be to Him whom the shifts of Time waste not away, nor doth aught of chance or change affect His sway: whom one case diverteth not from other case and Who is sole in the attributes of perfect grace. And prayer and peace be upon the Lord’s Pontiff and Chosen One among His creatures, our lord Mohammed the Prince of mankind through whom we supplicate Him for a goodly and a godly.
Finis
1 Arab. “Fárid” which may also mean “union-pearl.”
2 Trébutien (iii. 497) cannot deny himself the pleasure of a French touch making the King reply, “C’est assez; qu’on lui coupe la tête, car ces dernières histoires surtout m’ont causé un ennui mortel.” This reading is found in some of the Mss.
3 After this I borrow from the Bresl. Edit. inserting passages from the Mac. Edit.
4 i.e. whom he intended to marry with regal ceremony.
5 The use of coloured powders in sign of holiday-making is not obsolete in India. See Herklots for the use of “Huldee” (Haldí) or turmeric-powder, pp. 64–65.
6 Many Moslem families insist upon this before giving their girls in marriage, and the practice is still popular amongst many Mediterranean peoples.
7 i.e. Sumatran.
8 i.e. Alexander, according to the Arabs; see vol. v. 252.
9 These lines are in vol. i. 217.
10 I repeat the lines from vol. i. 218.
11 All these coquetries require as much inventiveness as a cotillon; the text alludes to fastening the bride’s tresses across her mouth giving her the semblance of beard and mustachios.
12 Repeated from vol. i. 218.
13 Repeated from vol. i. 218.
14 See vol. i. 219.
15 Arab. Sawád=the blackness of the hair.
16 Because Easterns build, but never repair.
17i.e. God only knows if it be true or not.
The reader who has reached this terminal stage will hardly require my assurance that he has seen the mediaeval Arab at his best and, perhaps, at his worst. In glancing over the myriad pictures of this panorama, those who can discern the soul of goodness in things evil will note the true nobility of the Moslem’s mind in the Moyen Age, and the cleanliness of his life from cradle to grave. As a child he is devoted to his parents, fond of his comrades and respectful to his “pastors and masters,” even schoolmasters. As a lad he prepares for manhood with a will and this training occupies him throughout youthtide: he is a gentleman in manners without awkwardness, vulgar astonishment or mauvaise-honte. As a man he is high-spirited and energetic, always ready to fight for his Sultan, his country and, especially, his Faith: courteous and affable, rarely failing in temperance of mind and self-respect, self-control and self-command: hospitable to the stranger, attached to his fellow citizens, submissive to superiors and kindly to inferiors — if such classes exist: Eastern despotisms have arrived nearer the idea of equality and fraternity than any republic yet invented. As a friend he proves a model to the Damons and Pythiases: as a lover an exemplar to Don Quijote without the noble old Caballero’s touch of eccentricity. As a knight he is the mirror of chivalry, doing battle for the weak and debelling the strong, while ever “defending the honour of women.” As a husband his patriarchal position causes him to be loved and fondly loved by more than one wife: as a father affection for his children rules his life: he is domestic in the highest degree and he finds few pleasures beyond the bosom of his family. Lastly, his death is simple, pathetic end edifying as the life which led to it.
Considered in a higher phase, the mediaeval Moslem mind displays, like the ancient Egyptian, a most exalted moral idea, the deepest reverence for all things connected with his religion and a sublime conception of the Unity and Omnipotence of the Deity. Noteworthy too is a proud resignation to the decrees of Fate and Fortune (Kazá wa Kadar), of Destiny and Predestination — a feature which ennobles the low aspect of Al–Islam even in these her days of comparative degeneration and local decay. Hence his moderation in prosperity, his fortitude in adversity, his dignity, his perfect self-dominance and, lastly, his lofty quietism which sounds the true heroic ring. This again is softened and tempered by a simple faith in the supremacy of Love over Fear, an unbounded humanity and charity for the poor and helpless: an unconditional forgiveness of the direst injuries (“which is the note of the noble”); a generosity and liberality which at times seem impossible and an enthusiasm for universal benevolence and beneficence which, exalting kindly deeds done to man above every form of holiness, constitute the root and base of Oriental, nay, of all, courtesy. And the whole is crowned by pure trust and natural confidence in the progress and perfectability of human nature, which he exalts instead of degrading; this he holds to be the foundation stone of society and indeed the very purpose of its existence. His Pessimism resembles far more the optimism which the so-called Books of Moses borrowed from the Ancient Copt than the mournful and melancholy creed of the true Pessimist, as Solomon the Hebrew, the Indian Buddhist and the esoteric European imitators of Buddhism. He cannot but sigh when contemplating the sin and sorrow, the pathos and bathos of the world; and feel the pity of it, with its shifts and changes ending in nothingness, its scanty happiness and its copious misery. But his melancholy is expressed in —
“A voice divinely sweet, a voice no less
Divinely sad.”
Nor does he mourn as they mourn who have no hope: he has an absolute conviction in future compensation; and, meanwhile, his lively poetic impulse, the poetry of ideas, not of formal verse, and his radiant innate idealism breathe a soul into the merest matter of squalid work-a-day life and awaken the sweetest harmonies of Nature epitomised in Humanity.
Such was the Moslem at a time when “the dark clouds of ignorance and superstition hung so thick on the intellectual horizon of Europe as to exclude every ray of learning that darted from the East and when all that was polite or elegant in literature was classed among the Studia Arabum”1 Nor is the shady side of the picture less notable. Our Arab at his worst is a mere barbarian who has not forgotten the savage. He is a model mixture of childishness and astuteness, of simplicity and cunning, concealing levity of mind under solemnity of aspect. His stolid instinctive conservatism grovels before the tyrant rule of routine, despite that turbulent and licentious independence which ever suggests revolt against the ruler: his mental torpidity, founded upon physical indolence, renders immediate action and all manner of exertion distasteful: his conscious weakness shows itself in overweening arrogance and intolerance. His crass and self- satisfied ignorance makes him glorify the most ignoble superstitions, while acts of revolting savagery are the natural results of a malignant fanaticism and a furious hatred of every creed beyond the pale of Al–Islam.
It must be confessed that these contrasts make a curious and interesting tout ensemble.
1 Ouseley’s Orient. Collect. I, vii.
Here occur the questions, Where and When was written and to Whom do we owe a prose-poem which, like the dramatic epos of Herodotus, has no equal?
I proceed to lay before the reader a procès-verbal of the sundry pleadings already in court as concisely as is compatible with intelligibility, furnishing him with references to original authorities and warning him that a fully-detailed account would fill a volume. Even my own reasons for decidedly taking one side and rejecting the other must be stated briefly. And before entering upon this subject I would distribute the prose-matter of our Recueil of Folk-lore under three heads
1. The Apologue or Beast-fable proper, a theme which may be of any age, as it is found in the hieroglyphs and in the cuneiforms.
2. The Fairy-tale, as for brevity we may term the stories based upon supernatural agency: this was a favourite with olden Persia; and Mohammed, most austere and puritanical of the “Prophets,” strongly objected to it because preferred by the more sensible of his converts to the dry legends of the Talmud and the Koran, quite as fabulous without the halo and glamour of fancy.
3. The Histories and historical anecdotes, analects, and acroamata, in which the names, when not used achronistically by the editor or copier, give unerring data for the earliest date à quo and which, by the mode of treatment, suggest the latest.
Each of these constituents will require further notice when the subject-matter of the book is discussed. The metrical portion of The Nights may also be divided into three categories, viz.:—
1. The oldest and classical poetry of the Arabs, e.g. the various quotations from the “Suspended Poems.”
2. The mediaeval, beginning with the laureates of Al–Rashid’s court, such as Al–Asma’í and Abú Nowás, and ending with Al–Harírí A.H. 446–516 = 1030–1100.
3. The modern quotations and the pièces de circonstance by the editors or copyists of the Compilation.1
Upon the metrical portion also further notices must be offered at the end of this Essay.
In considering the uncle derivatur of The Nights we must carefully separate subject-matter from language-manner. The neglect of such essential difference has caused the remark, “It is not a little curious that the origin of a work which has been known to Europe and has been studied by many during nearly two centuries, should still be so mysterious, and that students have failed in all attempts to detect the secret.” Hence also the chief authorities at once branched off into two directions. One held the work to be practically Persian: the other as persistently declared it to be purely Arab.
Professor Galland, in his Epistle Dedicatory to the Marquise d’O, daughter of his patron M. de Guillerague, showed his literary acumen and unfailing sagacity by deriving The Nights from India via Persia; and held that they had been reduced to their present shape by an Auteur Arabe inconnu. This reference to India, also learnedly advocated by M. Langlès, was inevitable in those days: it had not then been proved that India owed all her literature to far older civilisations and even that her alphabet the Nágari, erroneously called Devanágari, was derived through Phœnicia and Himyar-land from Ancient Egypt. So Europe was contented to compare The Nights with the Fables of Pilpay for upwards of a century. At last the Pehlevi or old Iranian origin of the work found an able and strenuous advocate in Baron von Hammer–Purgstall 2 who worthily continued what Galland had begun: although a most inexact writer, he was extensively read in Oriental history and poetry. His contention was that the book is an Arabisation of the Persian Hazár Afsánah or Thousand Tales and he proved his point.
Von Hammer began by summoning into Court the “Herodotus of the Arabs, (Ali Abú al-Hasan) Al–Mas’údi who, in A.H. 333 (=944) about one generation before the founding of Cairo, published at Bassorah the first edition of his far-famed Murúj al-Dahab wa Ma’ádin al-Jauhar, Meads of Gold and Mines of Gems. The Styrian Orientalist3 quotes with sundry misprints4 an ampler version of a passage in Chapter lxviii., which is abbreviated in the French translation of M. C. Barbier de Meynard.5
“And, indeed, many men well acquainted with their (Arab) histories6 opine that the stories above mentioned and other trifles were strung together by men who commended themselves to the Kings by relating them, and who found favour with their contemporaries by committing them to memory and by reciting them. Of such fashion7 is the fashion of the books which have come down to us translated from the Persian (Fárasiyah), the Indian (Hindíyah),8 and the Græco-Roman (Rúmíyah) 9: we have noted the judgment which should be passed upon compositions of this nature. Such is the book entituled Hazár Afsánah or The Thousand Tales, which word in Arabic signifies Khuráfah (Facetiœ): it is known to the public under the name of ‘[he Boot of a Thousand Nights and a Night, (Kitab Alf Laylah wa Laylah).10 This is an history of a King and his Wazir, the minister’s daughter and a slave-girl (járiyah) who are named Shírzád (lion-born) and Dínár-zád (ducat-born).11 Such also is the Tale of Farzah,12 (alii Firza), and Simás, containing details concerning the Kings and Wazirs of Hind: the Book of Al–Sindibád13 and others of a similar stamp.”
Von Hammer adds, quoting chaps. cxvi. of Al–Mas’údi that Al–Mansúr (second Abbaside A.H. 136–158 = 754–775, and grandfather of Al-Rashíd) caused many translations of Greek and Latin, Syriac and Persian (Pehlevi) works to be made into Arabic, specifying the “Kalílah wa Damnah,”14 the Fables of Bidpái (Pilpay), the Logic of Aristotle, the Geography of Ptolemy and the Elements of Euclid. Hence he concludes “L’original des Mille et une Nuits selon toute vraisemblance, a été traduit au temps du Khalife Mansur, c’est-á-dire trente ans avant le règne du Khalife Haroun al-Raschid, qui, par la suite, devait lui-même jouer un si grand rôle dans ces histoires.” He also notes that, about a century after Al–Mas’udi had mentioned the Hazár Afsánah, it was versified and probably remodelled by one “Rásti,” the Takhallus or nom de plume of a bard at the Court of Mahmúd, the Ghaznevite Sultan who, after a reign of thirty-three years, ob. A.D. 1030.15
Von Hammer some twelve years afterwards (Journ. Asiat August, 1839) brought forward, in his “Note sur l’origine Persane des Mille et une Nuits,” a second and an even more important witness: this was the famous Kitab al-Fihrist,16 or Index List of (Arabic) works, written (in A.H. 387 = 987) by Mohammed bin Is’hák al-Nadím (cup-companion or equerry), “popularly known as Ebou Yacoub el-Werrek.”17 The following is an extract (p. 304) from the Eighth Discourse which consists of three arts (funún).18 “The first section on the history of the confabulatores nocturni (tellers of night tales) and the relaters of fanciful adventures, together with the names of books treating upon such subjects. Mohammed ibn Is’hak saith: The first who indited themes of imagination and made books of them, consigning these works to the libraries, and who ordered some of them as though related by the tongues of brute beasts, were the palæo-Persians (and the Kings of the First Dynasty). The Ashkanian Kings of the Third Dynasty appended others to them and they were augmented and amplified in the days of the Sassanides (the fourth and last royal house). The Arabs also translated them into Arabic, and the loquent and eloquent polished and embellished them and wrote others resembling them. The first work of such kind was entituled ‘The Book of Hazar Afsán,’ signifying Alf Khuráfah, the argument whereof was as follows. A King of their Kings was wont, when he wedded a woman and had lain one night with her, to slay her on the next morning. Presently he espoused a damsel of the daughters of the Kings, Shahrázád19 hight, one endowed with intellect and erudition and, whenas she lay with him, she fell to telling him tales of fancy; moreover she used to connect the story at the end of the night with that which might induce the King to preserve her alive and to ask her of its ending on the next night until a thousand nights had passed over her. Meanwhile he cohabited with her till she was blest by boon of child of him, when she acquainted him with the device she had wrought upon him; wherefore he admired her intelligence and inclined to her and preserved her life. That King had also a Kahramánah (nurse and duenna, not entremetteuse), hight Dínárzád (Dunyázád?), who aided the wife in this (artifice). It is also said that this book was composed for (or, by) Humái daughter of Bahman20 and in it were included other matters. Mohammed bin Is’hak adds:— And the truth is, Inshallah,21 that the first who solaced himself with hearing night-tales was Al–Iskandar (he of Macedon) and he had a number of men who used to relate to him imaginary stories and provoke him to laughter: he, however, designed not therein merely to please himself, but that he might thereby become the more cautious and alert. After him the Kings in like fashion made use of the book entitled ‘Hazár Afsán.’ It containeth a thousand nights, but less than two hundred night-stories, for a single history often occupied several nights. I have seen it complete sundry times; and it is, in truth, a corrupted book of cold tales.”22
A writer in The Athenœum,23 objecting to Lane’s modern date for The Nights, adduces evidence to prove the greater antiquity of the work. (Abu al-Hasan) Ibn Sa’id (bin Musa al-Gharnati = of Granada) born in A.H. 615 = 1218 and ob. Tunis A.H. 685 = 1286, left his native city and arrived at Cairo in A.H. 639 = 1241. This Spanish poet and historian wrote Al–Muhallá bi al-Ash’ár (The Adorned with Verses), a Topography of Egypt and Africa, which is apparently now lost. In this he quotes from Al–Kurtubi, the Cordovan;24 and he in his turn is quoted by the Arab historian of Spain, Abú al-Abbás Ahmad bin Mohammed al Makkári, in the “Windwafts of Perfume from the Branches of Andalusia the Blooming”25 (A.D. 1628–29). Mr. Payne (x. 301) thus translates from Dr. Dozy’s published text.
“Ibn Said (may God have mercy upon him!) sets forth in his book, El Muhella bi-s-Shaar, quoting from El Curtubi the story of the building of the Houdej in the Garden of Cairo, the which was of the magnificent pleasaunces of the Fatimite Khalifs, the rare of ordinance and surpassing, to wit that the Khalif El Aamir bi-ahkam- illah26 let build it for a Bedouin woman, the love of whom had gotten the mastery of him, in the neighbourhood of the ‘Chosen Garden’27 and used to resort often thereto and was slain as he went thither; and it ceased not to be a pleasuring-place for the Khalifs after him. The folk abound in stories of the Bedouin girl and Ibn Meyyah28 of the sons of her uncle (cousin?) and what hangs thereby of the mention of El–Aamir, so that the tales told of them on this account became like unto the story of El Bettál29 and the Thousand Nights and a Night and what resembleth them.”
The same passage from Ibn Sa’id, corresponding in three Mss., occurs in the famous Khitat30 attributed to Al–Makrizi (ob. A.D. 1444) and was thus translated from a Ms. in the British Museum by Mr. John Payne (ix. 303)
“The Khalif El–Aamir bi-ahkam-illah set apart, in the neighbourhood of the Chosen Garden, a place for his beloved the Bedouin maid (Aaliyah)31 which he named El Houdej. Quoth Ibn Said, in the book El–Muhella bi-l-ashar, from the History of El Curtubi, concerning the traditions of the folk of the story of the Bedouin maid and Ibn Menah (Meyyah) of the sons of her uncle and what hangs thereby of the mention of the Khalif El Aamír bi-ahkam-illah, so that their traditions (or tales) upon the garden became like unto El Bettál32 and the Thousand Nights and what resembleth them.”
This evidently means either that The Nights existed in the days of Al-’Ámir (xiith cent.) or that the author compared them with a work popular in his own age. Mr. Payne attaches much importance to the discrepancy of titles, which appears to me a minor detail. The change of names is easily explained. Amongst the Arabs, as amongst the wild Irish, there is divinity (the proverb says luck) in odd numbers and consequently the others are inauspicious. Hence as Sir Wm. Ouseley says (Travels ii. 21), the number Thousand and One is a favourite in the East (Olivier, Voyages vi. 385, Paris 1807), and quotes the Cistern of the “Thousand and One Columns” at Constantinople. Kaempfer (Amœn, Exot. p. 38) notes of the Takiyahs or Dervishes’ convents and the Mazárs or Santons’ tombs near Koniah (Iconium), “Multa seges sepulchralium quæ virorum ex omni ævo doctissimorum exuvias condunt, mille et unum recenset auctor Libri qui inscribitur Hassaaer we jek mesaar (Hazár ve yek Mezár), i.e., mille et unum mausolea.” A book, The Hazar o yek Ruz ( = 1001 Days), was composed in the mid-xviith century by the famous Dervaysh Mukhlis, Chief Sofi of Isfahan: it was translated into French by Petis de la Croix, with a preface by Cazotte, and was englished by Ambrose Phillips. Lastly, in India and throughout Asia where Indian influence extends, the number of cyphers not followed by a significant number is indefinite: for instance, to determine hundreds the Hindus affix the required figure to the end and for 100 write 101; for 1000, 1001. But the grand fact of the Hazár Afsánah is its being the archetype of The Nights, unquestionably proving that the Arab work borrows from the Persian bodily its cadre or frame-work, the principal characteristic; its exordium and its dénoûement, whilst the two heroines still bear the old Persic names.
Baron Silvestre de Sacy33 — clarum et venerabile nomen — is the chief authority for the Arab provenance of The Nights. Apparently founding his observations upon Galland,34 he is of opinion that the work, as now known, was originally composed in Syria35 and written in the vulgar dialect; that it was never completed by the author, whether he was prevented by death or by other cause; and that imitators endeavoured to finish the work by inserting romances which were already known but which formed no part of the original recueil, such as the Travels of Sindbad the Seaman, the Book of the Seven Wazirs and others. He accepts the Persian scheme and cadre of the work, but no more. He contends that no considerable body of præ-Mohammedan or non-Arabic fiction appears in the actual texts36; and that all the tales, even those dealing with events localised in Persia, India, China and other infidel lands and dated from ante-islamitic ages mostly with the naïvest anachronism, confine themselves to depicting the people, manners and customs of Baghdad and Mosul, Damascus and Cairo, during the Abbaside epoch, and he makes a point of the whole being impregnated with the strongest and most zealous spirit of Mohammedanism. He points out that the language is the popular or vulgar dialect, differing widely from the classical and literary; that it contains many words in common modern use and that generally it suggests the decadence of Arabian literature. Of one tale he remarks:— The History of the loves of Camaralzaman and Budour, Princess of China, is no more Indian or Persian than the others. The prince’s father has Moslems for subjects, his mother is named Fatimah and when imprisoned he solaces himself with reading the Koran. The Genii who interpose in these adventures are, again, those who had dealings with Solomon. In fine, all that we here find of the City of the Magians, as well as of the fire-worshippers, suffices to show that one should not expect to discover in it anything save the production of a Moslem writer.
All this, with due deference to so high an authority, is very superficial. Granted, which nobody denies, that the archetypal Hazár Afsánah was translated from Persic into Arabic nearly a thousand years ago, it had ample time and verge enough to assume another and a foreign dress, the corpus however remaining untouched. Under the hands of a host of editors, scribes and copyists, who have no scruples anent changing words, names and dates, abridging descriptions and attaching their own decorations, the florid and rhetorical Persian would readily be converted into the straight-forward, business-like, matter of fact Arabic. And what easier than to islamise the old Zoroasterism, to transform Ahrimán into Iblís the Shaytan, Ján bin Ján into Father Adam, and the Divs and Peris of Kayomars and the olden Guebre Kings into the Jinns and Jinniyahs of Sulayman? Volumes are spoken by the fact that the Arab adapter did not venture to change the Persic names of the two heroines and of the royal brothers or to transfer the mise- en-scène any whither from Khorasan or outer Persia. Where the story has not been too much worked by the literato’s pen, for instance the “Ten Wazirs” (in the Bresl. Edit. vi. 191-343) which is the Guebre Bakhtiyár-námah, the names and incidents are old Iranian and with few exceptions distinctly Persian. And at times we can detect the process of transition, e.g. when the Mázin of Khorásán37 of the Wortley Montagu Ms. becomes the Hasan of Bassorah of the Turner Macan Ms. (Mac. Edit.).
Evidently the learned Baron had not studied such works as the Totá-kaháni or Parrot-chat which, notably translated by Nakhshabi from the Sanskrit Suka–Saptati,38 has now become as orthodoxically Moslem as The Nights. The old Hindu Rajah becomes Ahmad Sultan of Balkh, the Prince is Maymún and his wife Khujisteh. Another instance of such radical change is the later Syriac version of Kaliliah wa Dimnah,39 old “Pilpay” converted to Christianity. We find precisely the same process in European folk-lore; for instance the Gesta Romanorum in which, after five hundred years, the life, manners and customs of the Romans lapse into the knightly and chivalrous, the Christian and ecclesiastical developments of mediaeval Europe. Here, therefore, I hold that the Austrian Arabist has proved his point whilst the Frenchman has failed.
Mr. Lane, during his three years’ labour of translation, first accepted Von Hammer’s view and then came round to that of De Sacy; differing, however, in minor details, especially in the native country of The Nights. Syria had been chosen because then the most familiar to Europeans: the “Wife of Bath” had made three pilgrimages to Jerusalem; but few cared to visit the barbarous and dangerous Nile–Valley. Mr. Lane, however, was an enthusiast for Egypt or rather for Cairo, the only part of it he knew; and, when he pronounces The Nights to be of purely “Arab,” that is, of Nilotic origin, his opinion is entitled to no more deference than his deriving the sub-African and negroid Fellah from Arabia, the land per excellentiam of pure and noble blood. Other authors have wandered still further afield. Some finding Mosul idioms in the Recueil, propose “Middlegates” for its birth-place and Mr. W. G. P. Palgrave boldly says “The original of this entertaining work appears to have been composed in Baghdad about the eleventh century; another less popular but very spirited version is probably of Tunisian authorship and somewhat later.”40
1 This three-fold distribution occurred to me many years ago and when far beyond reach of literary authorities, I was, therefore, much pleased to find the subjoined three-fold classification with minor details made by Baron von Hammer- Purgstall (Preface to Contes Inédits etc. of G. S. Trébutien, Paris, mdcccxxviii.) (1) The older stories which serve as a base to the collection, such as the Ten Wazirs (“Malice of Women”) and Voyages of Sindbad (?) which may date from the days of Mahommed. These are distributed into two sub-classes; (a) the marvellous and purely imaginative (e.g. Jamasp and the Serpent Queen) and (b) the realistic mixed with instructive fables and moral instances. (2) The stories and anecdotes peculiarly Arab, relating to the Caliphs and especially to Al — Rashíd; and (3) The tales of Egyptian provenance, which mostly date from the times of the puissant “Aaron the Orthodox.” Mr. John Payne (Villon Translation vol. ix. pp. 367–73) distributes the stories roughly under five chief heads as follows: (1) Histories or long Romances, as King Omar bin Al–Nu’man (2) Anecdotes or short stories dealing with historical personages and with incidents and adventures belonging to the every-day life of the period to which they refer: e.g. those concerning Al–Rashíd and Hátim of Tayy. (3) Romances and romantic fictions comprising three different kinds of tales; (a) purely romantic and supernatural; (b) fictions and nouvelles with or without a basis and background of historical fact and (c) Contes fantastiques. (4) Fables and Apologues; and (5) Tales proper, as that of Tawaddud.
2 Journal Asiatique (Paris, Dondoy–Dupré, 1826) “Sur l’origine des Mille et une Nuits.”
3 Baron von Hammer–Purgstall’s château is near Styrian Graz, and, when I last saw his library, it had been left as it was at his death.
4 At least, in Trébutien’s Preface, pp. xxx.-xxxi., reprinted from the Journ. Asiat. August, 1839: for corrections see De Sacy’s “Mémoire.” p. 39.
5 Vol. iv. pp. 89–90, Paris mdccclxv. Trébutien quotes, chapt. lii. (for lxviii.), one of Von Hammer’s manifold inaccuracies.
6 Alluding to Iram the Many-columned, etc.
7 In Trébutien “Síhá,” for which the Editor of the Journ. Asiat. and De Sacy rightly read “Sabíl-há.”
8 For this some Mss. have “Fahlawiyah” = Pehlevi
9 i.e. Lower Roman, Grecian, of Asia Minor, etc., the word is still applied throughout Marocco, Algiers and Northern Africa to Europeans in general.
10 De Sacy (Dissertation prefixed to the Bourdin Edition) notices the “thousand and one,” and in his Mémoire “a thousand:” Von Hammer’s Ms. reads a thousand, and the French translation a thousand and one. Evidently no stress can be laid upon the numerals.
11 These names are noticed in my vol. i. 14, and vol. ii. 3. According to De Sacy some Mss. read “History of the Wazir and his Daughters.”
12 Lane (iii. 735) has Wizreh or Wardeh which guide us to Wird Khan, the hero of the tale. Von Hammer’s Ms. prefers Djilkand (Jilkand), whence probably the Isegil or Isegild of Langlés (1814), and the Tséqyl of De Sacy (1833). The mention of “Simás” (Lane’s Shemmas) identifies it with “King Jalí’ád of Hind,” etc. (Night dcccxcix.) Writing in A.D. 961 Hamzah Isfaháni couples with the libri Sindbad and Schimas, the libri Baruc and Barsinas, four nouvelles out of nearly seventy. See also Al-Makri’zi’s Khitat or Topography (ii. 485) for a notice of the Thousand or Thousand and one Nights.
13 alluding to the “Seven Wazirs” alias “The Malice of Women” (Night dlxxviii.), which Von Hammer and many others have carelessly confounded with Sindbad the Seaman We find that two tales once separate have now been incorporated with The Nights, and this suggests the manner of its composition by accretion.
14 Arabised by a most “elegant” stylist, Abdullah ibn al-Mukaffá (the shrivelled), a Persian Guebre named Roz-bih (Day good), who islamised and was barbarously put to death in A.H. 158 (= 775) by command of the Caliph al-Mansur (Al–Siyuti p. 277). “He also translated from Pehlevi the book entitled Sekiserán, containing the annals of Isfandiyar, the death of Rustam, and other episodes of old Persic history,” says Al–Mas’udi chapt. xxi. See also Ibn Khallikan (1, 43) who dates the murder in A.H. 142 (= 759–60).
15 “Notice sur Le Schah-namah de Firdoussi,” a posthumous publication of M. de Wallenbourg, Vienna, 1810, by M. A. de Bianchi. In sect. iii. I shall quote another passage of Al-Mas’udi (viii. 175) in which I find a distinct allusion to the “Gaboriaudetective tales” of The Nights.
16 Here Von Hammer shows his customary inexactitude. As we learn from Ibn Khallikan (Fr. Tr. I. 630), the author’s name was Abu al-Faraj Mohammed ibn Is’hak pop. known as Ibn Ali Ya’kúb al-Warrák, the bibliographe, librarian, copyist. It was published (vol. i Leipzig, 1871) under the editorship of G. Fluegel, J. Roediger, and A. Müller.
17 See also the Journ. Asiat., August, 1839, and Lane iii. 736–37
18 Called “Afsánah” by Al–Mas’udi, both words having the same sense = tale story, parable, “facetiæ.” Moslem fanaticism renders it by the Arab “Khuráfah” = silly fables, and in Hindostan it = a jest: “Bát-kí bát, khurafát-ki khurafát” (a word for a word, a joke for a joke).
19 Al–Mas’údi (chapt. xxi.) makes this a name of the Mother of Queen Humái or Humáyah, for whom see below.
20 The preface of a copy of the Shah-nameh (by Firdausi, ob. A.D. 1021), collated in A.H. 829 by command of Bayisunghur Bahadur Khán (Atkinson p. x.), informs us that the Hazar Afsanah was composed for or by Queen Humái whose name is Arabised to Humáyah This Persian Marguerite de Navarre was daughter and wife to (Ardashir) Bahman, sixth Kayanian and surnamed Diraz-dast (Artaxerxes Longimanus), Abu Sásán from his son, the Eponymus of the Sassanides who followed the Kayanians when these were extinguished by Alexander of Macedon. Humái succeeded her husband as seventh Queen, reigned thirty-two years and left the crown to her son Dárá or Dáráb 1st = Darius Codomanus. She is better known to Europe (through Herodotus) as Parysatis = Peri-zádeh or the Fairy-born.
21 i.e. If Allah allow me to say sooth.
22 i.e. of silly anecdotes: here speaks the good Moslem!
23 No. 622 Sept. 29, ‘39, a review of Torrens which appeared shortly after Lane’s vol. i. The author quotes from a Ms. in the British Museum, No. 7334 fol. 136.
24 There are many Spaniards of this name: Mr. Payne (ix. 302) proposes Abu Ja’afar ibn Abd al-Hakk al-Khazraji, author of a History of the Caliphs about the middle of the twelfth century.
25 The well-known Rauzah or Garden-island, of old Al-Saná‘ah (Al–Mas’udi chapt. xxxi.) which is more than once noticed in The Nights. The name of the pavilion Al–Haudaj = a camel-litter, was probably intended to flatter the Badawi girl.
26 He was the Seventh Fatimite Caliph of Egypt: regn. A.H. 495–524 (= 1101 1129).
27 Suggesting a private pleasaunce in Al–Rauzah which has ever been and is still a succession of gardens.
28 The writer in The Athenæum calls him Ibn Miyvah, and adds that the Badawiyah wrote to her cousin certain verses complaining of her thraldom, which the youth answered abusing the Caliph. Al-Ámir found the correspondence and ordered Ibn Miyah’s tongue to be cut out, but he saved himself by a timely flight.
29 In Night dccclxxxv. we have the passage “He was a wily thief: none could avail against his craft as he were Abu Mohammed Al–Battál”: the word etymologically means The Bad; but see infra.
30 Amongst other losses which Orientals have sustained by the death of Rogers Bey, I may mention his proposed translation of Al–Makrízí‘s great topographical work.
31 The name appears only in a later passage.
32 Mr. Payne notes (viii. 137) “apparently some famous brigand of the time” (of Charlemagne). But the title may signify The Brave, and the tale may be much older.
33 In his “Mémoire sur l’origine du Recueil des Contes intitulé Les Mille et une Nuits” (Mém. d’Hist. et de Littér. Orientale, extrait des tomes ix., et x. des Mémoires de l’Inst. Royal Acad. des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres, Paris, Imprimerie Royale, 1833). He read the Memoir before the Royal Academy on July 31, 1829. Also in his Dissertation “Sur les Mille et une Nuits” (pp. i. viii.) prefixed to the Bourdin Edit. When first the Arabist in Europe landed at Alexandria he could not exchange a word with the people the same is told of Golius the lexicographer at Tunis.
34 Lane, Nights ii. 218.
35 This origin had been advocated a decade of years before by Shaykh Ahmad al-Shirawáni; Editor of the Calc. text (1814–18): his Persian preface opines that the author was an Arabic speaking Syrian who designedly wrote in a modern and conversational style, none of the purest withal, in order to instruct non-Arabists. Here we find the genus “Professor” pure and simple.
36 Such an assertion makes us enquire, Did De Sacy ever read through The Nights in Arabic?
37 Dr. Jonathan Scott’s “translation” vi. 283.
38 For a note on this world-wide Tale see vol. i. 52.
39 In the annotated translation by Mr. I. G. N. Keith- Falconer, Cambridge University Press. I regret to see the wretched production called the “Fables of Pilpay” in the “Chandos Classics” (London, F. Warne). The words are so mutilated that few will recognize them, e.g. Carchenas for Kár-shínás, Chaschmanah for Chashmey-e-Máh (Fountain of the Moon), etc.
40 Article Arabia in Encyclop. Brit., 9th Edit., p. 263, colt 2. I do not quite understand Mr. Palgrave, but presume that his “other version” is the Bresl. Edit., the Ms. of which was brought from Tunis; see its Vorwort (vol. i. p. 3).
The next point to consider is the date of The Nights in its present form; and here opinions range between the tenth and the sixteenth centuries. Professor Galland began by placing it arbitrarily in the middle of the thirteenth. De Sacy, who abstained from detailing reasons and who, forgetting the number of editors and scribes through whose hands it must have passed, argued only from the nature of the language and the peculiarities of style, proposed le milieu du neuvième siècle de l’hégire ( = A.D. 1445–6) as its latest date. Mr. Hole, who knew The Nights only through Galland’s version, had already advocated in his “Remarks” the close of the fifteenth century; and M. Caussin (de Perceval), upon the authority of a supposed note in Galland’s Ms.1 (vol. iii. fol. 20, verso), declares the compiler to have been living in A.D. 1548 and 1565. Mr. Lane says “Not begun earlier than the last fourth of the fifteenth century nor ended before the first fourth of the sixteenth,” i.e. soon after Egypt was conquered by Selim, Sultan of the Osmanli Turks in A.D. 1517. Lastly the learned Dr. Weil says in his far too scanty Vorwort (p. ix. 2nd Edit.):-“Das wahrscheinlichste dürfte also sein, das im 15. Jahrhundert ein Egyptier nach altern Vorbilde Erzählungen für 1001 Nächte theils erdichtete, theils nach mündlichen Sagen, oder frühern schriftlichen Aufzeichnungen, bearbeitete, dass er aber entweder sein Werk nicht vollendete, oder dass ein Theil desselben verloren ging, so dass das Fehlende von Andern bis ins 16. Jahrhundert hinein durch neue Erzählungen ergänzt wurde.”
But, as justly observed by Mr. Payne, the first step when enquiring into the original date of The Nights is to determine the nucleus of the Repertory by a comparison of the four printed texts and the dozen Mss. which have been collated by scholars.2 This process makes it evident that the tales common to all are the following thirteen:—
These forty-two tales, occupying one hundred and twenty Nights, form less than a fifth part of the whole collection which in the Mac. Edit.3 contains a total of two hundred and sixty-four Hence Dr. Patrick Russell,4 the Natural Historian of Aleppo,5 whose valuable monograph amply deserves study even in this our day, believed that the original Nights did not outnumber two hundred, to which subsequent writers added till the total of a thousand and one was made up. Dr. Jonathan Scott,6 who quotes Russell, “held it highly probable that the tales of the original Arabian Nights did not run through more than two hundred and eighty Nights, if so many.” So this suggestion I may subjoin, “habent sue fate libelli.” Galland, who preserves in his Mille et une Nuits only about one fourth of The Nights, ends them in No. cclxiv7 with the seventh voyage of Sindbad: after that he intentionally omits the dialogue between the sisters and the reckoning of time, to proceed uninterruptedly with the tales. And so his imitator, Petis de la Croix,8 in his Mille et un Jours, reduces the thousand to two hundred and thirty-two.
The internal chronological evidence offered by the Collection is useful only in enabling us to determine that the tales were not written after a certain epoch: the actual dates and, consequently, all deductions from them, are vitiated by the habits of the scribes. For instance we find the Tale of the Fisherman and the Jinni (vol. i. 41) placed in A.H. 169 = A.D. 785,9 which is hardly possible. The immortal Barber in the “Tailor’s Tale” (vol. i. 304) places his adventure with the unfortunate lover on Safar 10, A.H. 653 ( = March 25th, 1255) and 7,320 years of the era of Alexander.10 This is supported in his Tale of Himself (vol. i. pp. 317–348), where he dates his banishment from Baghdad during the reign of the penultimate Abbaside, Al–Mustansir bi ’llah11 (A.H. 623–640 = 1225–1242), and his return to Baghdad after the accession of another Caliph who can be no other but Al-Muntasim bi ’llah (A.H. 640–656 = A.D. 1242–1258). Again at the end of the tale (vol. i. 350) he is described as “an ancient man, past his ninetieth year” and “a very old man” in the days of Al-Mustansir (vol. i. 318); so that the Hunchback’s adventure can hardly be placed earlier than A.D. 1265 or seven years after the storming of Baghdad by Huláku Khan, successor of Janghíz Khan, a terrible catastrophe which resounded throughout the civilised world. Yet there is no allusion to this crucial epoch and the total silence suffices to invalidate the date.12 Could we assume it as true, by adding to A.D. 1265 half a century for the composition of the Hunchback’s story and its incidentals, we should place the earliest date in A.D. 1315.
As little can we learn from inferences which have been drawn from the body of the book: at most they point to its several editions or redactions. In the Tale of the “Ensorcelled Prince” (vol. i. 77) Mr. Lane (i. 135) conjectured that the four colours of the fishes were suggested by the sumptuary laws of the Mameluke Soldan, Mohammed ibn Kala’un, “subsequently to the commencement of the eighth century of the Flight, or fourteenth of our era.” But he forgets that the same distinction of dress was enforced by the Caliph Omar after the capture of Jerusalem in A.D. 636; that it was revived by Harun al-Rashid, a contemporary of Carolus Magnus and that it was noticed as a long standing grievance by the so-called Mandeville in A.D. 1322. In the Tale of the Porter and the Ladies of Baghdad the “Sultáni oranges” (vol. i. 83) have been connected with Sultáníyah city in Persian Irák, which was founded about the middle of the thirteenth century: but “Sultáni” may simply mean “royal,” a superior growth. The same story makes mention (vol. i. 94) of Kalandars or religious mendicants, a term popularly corrupted, even in writing, to Karandal.13 Here again “Kalandar” may be due only to the scribes as the Bresl. Edit. reads Sa’alúk = asker, beggar. The Khan al-Masrúr in the Nazarene Broker’s story (i. 265) was a ruin during the early ninth century A.H. = A.D. 1420; but the Báb Zuwaylah (i. 269) dates from A.D. 1087. In the same tale occurs the Darb al-Munkari (or Munakkari) which is probably the Darb al-Munkadi of Al–Makrizi’s careful topography, the Khitat (ii. 40). Here we learn that in his time (about A.D. 1430) the name had become obsolete, and the highway was known as Darb al-Amír Baktamír al-Ustaddar from one of two high officials who both died in the fourteenth century (circ. A.D. 1350). And lastly we have the Khan al-Jáwali built about A.D. 1320. In Badr al-Din Hasan (vol. i. 237) “Sáhib” is given as a Wazirial title and it dates only from the end of the fourteenth century.14 In Sindbad the Seaman, there is an allusion (vol. vi. 67) to the great Hindu Kingdom, Vijayanagar of the Narasimha,15 the great power of the Deccan; but this may be due to editors or scribes as the despotism was founded only in the fourteenth century(A.D. 1320). The Ebony Horse (vol. v. 1) apparently dates before Chaucer; and “The Sleeper and The Waker” (Bresl. Edit. iv. 134–189) may precede Shakespeare’s “Taming of the Shrew”: no stress, however, can be laid upon such resemblances, the nouvelles being world-wide. But when we come to the last stories, especially to Kamar al-Zaman II. and the tale of Ma’arúf, we are apparently in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The first contains (Night cmlxxvii.) the word Láwandiyah = Levantine, the mention of a watch = Sá‘ah in the next Night16; and, further on (cmlxxvi.), the “Shaykh Al–Islam,” an officer invented by Mohammed II. after the capture of Stambul in A.D. 1453. In Ma’arúf the ‘Ádiliyah is named; the mosque founded outside the Bab al-Nasr by Al–Malik al-’Ádil, Túmán Bey in A.H. 906 = A.D. 1501. But, I repeat, all these names may be mere interpolations.
On the other hand, a study of the vie intime in Al–Islam and of the manners and customs of the people proves that the body of the work, as it now stands, must have been written before A.D. 1400. The Arabs use wines, ciders and barley-beer, not distilled spirits; they have no coffee or tobacco and, while familiar with small-pox (judrí), they ignore syphilis. The battles in The Nights are fought with bows and javelins, swords, spears (for infantry) and lances (for cavalry); and, whenever fire-arms are mentioned, we must suspect the scribe. Such is the case with the Madfa’ or cannon by means of which Badr Al–Din Hasan breaches the bulwarks of the Lady of Beauty’s virginity (i. 223). This consideration would determine the work to have been written before the fourteenth century. We ignore the invention-date and the inventor of gunpowder, as of all old discoveries which have affected mankind at large: all we know is that the popular ideas betray great ignorance and we are led to suspect that an explosive compound, having been discovered in the earliest ages of human society, was utilised by steps so gradual that history has neglected to trace the series. According to Demmin17, bullets for stuffing with some incendiary composition, in fact bombs, were discovered by Dr. Keller in the Palafites or Crannogs of Switzerland; and the Hindu’s Agni–Astar (“fire-weapon”), Agni-bán (“fire-arrow”) and Shatagni (“hundred- killer”), like the Roman Phalarica, and the Greek fire of Byzantium, suggest explosives. Indeed, Dr. Oppert18 accepts the statement of Flavius Philostratus that when Appolonius of Tyana, that grand semi-mythical figure, was travelling in India, he learned the reason why Alexander of Macedon desisted from attacking the Oxydracæ who live between the Ganges and the Hyphasis (Satadru or Sutledge):— “These holy men, beloved by the gods, overthrow their enemies with tempests and thunderbolts shot from their walls.” Passing over the Arab sieges of Constantinople (A.D. 668) and Meccah (A.D. 690) and the disputed passage in Firishtah touching the Tufang or musket during the reign of Mahmúd the Ghaznevite19 (ob. A.D. 1030), we come to the days of Alphonso the Valiant, whose long and short guns, used at the Siege of Madrid in A.D. 1084, are preserved in the Armeria Real. Viardot has noted that the African Arabs first employed cannon in A.D. 1200, and that the Maghribis defended Algeciras near Gibraltar with great guns in A. D. 1247, and utilised them to besiege Seville in A.D. 1342. This last feat of arms introduced the cannon into barbarous Northern Europe, and it must have been known to civilised Asia for many a decade before that date.
The mention of wine in The Nights, especially the Nabíz or fermented infusion of raisins well known to the præ-Mohammeden Badawis, perpetually recurs. As a rule, except only in the case of holy personages and mostly of the Caliph Al–Rashid, the “service of wine” appears immediately after the hands are washed; and women, as well as men, drink, like true Orientals, for the honest purpose of getting drunk-la recherche de l’ideal, as the process has been called. Yet distillation became well known in the fourteenth century. Amongst the Greeks and Romans it was confined to manufacturing aromatic waters, and Nicander the poet (B.C. 140) used for a still the term, like the Irish “pot” and its produce “poteen.” The simple art of converting salt water into fresh, by boiling the former and passing the steam through a cooled pipe into a recipient, would not have escaped the students of the Philosopher’s “stone;” and thus we find throughout Europe the Arabic modifications of Greek terms Alchemy, Alembic (Al — ), Chemistry and Elixir; while “Alcohol” (Al–Kohl), originally meaning “extreme tenuity or impalpable state of pulverulent substances,” clearly shows the origin of the article. Avicenna, who died in A.H. 428 = 1036, nearly two hundred years before we read of distillation in Europe, compared the human body with an alembic, the belly being the cucurbit and the head the capital:-he forgot one important difference but n’importe. Spirits of wine were first noticed in the xiiith century, when the Arabs had overrun the Western Mediterranean, by Arnaldus de Villa Nova, who dubs the new invention a universal panacea; and his pupil, Raymond Lully (nat. Majorca A.D. 1236), declared this essence of wine to be a boon from the Deity. Now The Nights, even in the latest adjuncts, never allude to the “white coffee” of the “respectable” Moslem, the Ráki (raisin-brandy) or Ma-hayát (aqua-vitæ) of the modern Mohametan: the drinkers confine themselves to wine like our contemporary Dalmatians, one of the healthiest and the most vigorous of seafaring races in Europe.
Syphilis also, which at the end of the xvth century began to infect Europe, is ignored by The Nights. I do not say it actually began: diseases do not begin except with the dawn of humanity; and their history, as far as we know, is simple enough. They are at first sporadic and comparatively non-lethal: at certain epochs which we can determine, and for reasons which as yet we cannot, they break out into epidemics raging with frightful violence: they then subside into the endemic state and lastly they return to the milder sporadic form. For instance, “English cholera” was known of old: in 1831 (Oct. 26) the Asiatic type took its place and now, after sundry violent epidemics, the disease is becoming endemic on the Northern seaboard of the Mediterranean, notably in Spain and Italy. So small-pox (Al-judrí, vol. i. 256) passed over from Central Africa to Arabia in the year of Mohammed’s birth (A.D. 570) and thence overspread the civilised world, as an epidemic, an endemic and a sporadic successively. The “Greater Pox” has appeared in human bones of pre historic graves and Moses seems to mention gonorrhœa (Levit. xv. 12). Passing over allusions in Juvenal and Martial,20 we find Eusebius relating that Galerius died (A.D. 302) of ulcers on the genitals and other parts of his body; and, about a century afterwards, Bishop Palladius records that one Hero, after conversation with a prostitute, fell a victim to an abscess on the penis (phagedænic shanker?). In 1347 the famous Joanna of Naples founded (æt. 23), in her town of Avignon, a bordel whose in-mates were to be medically inspected a measure to which England (proh pudor!) still objects. In her Statuts du Lieu- publiqued’Avignon, No. iv. she expressly mentions the Malvengut de paillardise. Such houses, says Ricord who studied the subject since 1832, were common in France after A.D. 1200; and sporadic venereals were known there. But in A.D. 1493–94 an epidemic broke out with alarming intensity at Barcelona, as we learn from the “Tractado llamado fructo de todos los Sanctos contra el mal serpentino, venido de la Isla espanola,” of Rodrigo Ruiz Días, the specialist. In Santo Domingo the disease was common under the names Hipas, Guaynaras and Taynastizas: hence the opinion in Europe that it arose from the mixture of European and “Indian” blood.21 Some attributed it to the Gypsies who migrated to Western Europe in the xvth century:22 others to the Moriscos expelled from Spain. But the pest got its popular name after the violent outbreak at Naples in A.D. 1493–4, when Charles VIII. of Anjou with a large army of mercenaries, Frenchmen, Spaniards, and Germans, attacked Ferdinand II. Thence it became known as the Mal de Naples and Morbus Gallicus-una gallica being still the popular term in neo Latin lands-and the “French disease” in England. As early as July 1496 Marin Sanuto (Journal i. 171) describes with details the “Mal Franzoso.” The scientific “syphilis” dates from Fracastori’s poem (A.D. 1521) in which Syphilus the Shepherd is struck like Job, for abusing the sun. After crippling a Pope (Sixtus IV.23) and killing a King (Francis I.) the Grosse Vérole began to abate its violence, under the effects of mercury it is said; and became endemic, a stage still shown at Scherlievo near Fiume, where legend says it was implanted by the Napoleonic soldiery. The Aleppo and other “buttons” also belong apparently to the same grade. Elsewhere it settled as a sporadic and now it appears to be dying out while gonorrhœa is on the increase.24
The Nights, I have said, belongs to the days before coffee (A.D. 1550) and tobacco (A.D. 1650) had overspread the East. The former, which derives its name from the Káfá or Káffá province, lying south of Abyssinia proper and peopled by the Sidáma Gallas, was introduced to Mokha of Al–Yaman in A.D. 1429–30 by the Shaykh al-Sházili who lies buried there, and found a congenial name in the Arabic Kahwah=old wine.25 In The Nights (Mac. Edit.) it is mentioned twelve times26; but never in the earlier tales: except in the case of Kamar al-Zaman II. it evidently does not belong to the epoch and we may fairly suspect the scribe. In the xvith century coffee began to take the place of wine in the nearer East; and it gradually ousted the classical drink from daily life and from folk-tales.
It is the same with tobacco, which is mentioned only once by The Nights (cmxxxi.), in conjunction with meat, vegetables and fruit and where it is called “Tábah.” Lane (iii. 615) holds it to be the work of a copyist; but in the same tale of Abu Kir and Abu Sir, sherbet and coffee appear to have become en vogue, in fact to have gained the ground they now hold. The result of Lord Macartney’s Mission to China was a suggestion that smoking might have originated spontaneously in the Old World.27 This is un- doubtedly true. The Bushmen and other wild tribes of Southern Africa threw their Dakhá (cannabis indica) on the fire and sat round it inhaling the intoxicating fumes. Smoking without tobacco was easy enough. The North American Indians of the Great Red Pipe Stone Quarry and those who lived above the line where nicotiana grew, used the kinni-kinik or bark of the red willow and some seven other succedanea.28 But tobacco proper, which soon superseded all materials except hemp and opium, was first adopted by the Spaniards of Santo Domingo in A.D. 1496 and reached England in 1565. Hence the word, which, amongst the so-called Red Men, denoted the pipe, the container, not the contained, spread over the Old World as a generic term with additions, like ‘‘Tutun,’’29 for special varieties. The change in English manners brought about by the cigar after dinner has already been noticed; and much of the modified sobriety of the present day may be attributed to the influence of the Holy Herb en cigarette. Such, we know from history was its effect amongst Moslems; and the normal wine-parties of The Nights suggest that the pipe was unknown even when the latest tales were written.
1 There are three distinct notes according to De Sacy (Mém., p. 50). The first (in Ms. 1508) says “This blessed book was read by the weak slave, etc. Wahabah son of Rizkallah the Kátib (secretary, scribe) of Tarábulus al-Shám (Syrian Tripoli), who prayeth long life for its owner (li máliki-h). This tenth day of the month First Rabí‘a A.H. 955 (= 1548).” A similar note by the same Wahabah occurs at the end of vol. ii. (Ms. 1507) dated A.H. 973 (= 1565) and a third (Ms. 1506) is undated. Evidently M. Caussin has given undue weight to such evidence. For further information see “Tales of the East” to which is prefixed an Introductory Dissertation (vol. i. pp. 24–26, note) by Henry Webber, Esq., Edinburgh, 1812, in 3 vols.
2 “Notice sur les douze manuscrits connus des Milles et une Nuits, qui existent en Europe.” Von Hammer in Trébutien, Notice, vol. i.
3 Printed from the Ms. of Major Turner Macan, Editor of the Shahnamah: he bought it from the heirs of Mr. Salt, the historic Consul–General of England in Egypt and after Macan’s death it became the property of the now extinct Allens, then of Leadenhall Street (Torrens, Preface, i.). I have vainly enquired about what became of it.
4 The short paper by “P. R.” in the Gentleman’s Magazine (Feb. 19th, 1799, vol. lxix. p. 61) tells us that Mss. of The Nights were scarce at Aleppo and that he found only two vols. (280 Nights) which he had great difficulty in obtaining leave to copy. He also noticed (in 1771) a Ms., said to be complete, in the Vatican and another in the “King’s Library” (Bibliothèque Nationale), Paris.
5 Aleppo has been happy in finding such monographers as Russell and Maundrell while poor Damascus fell into the hands of Mr. Missionary Porter, and suffered accordingly.
6 Vol. vi. Appendix, p.452.
7 The numbers, however, vary with the Editions of Galland: some end the formula with Night cxcvii; others with the ccxxxvi.: I adopt that of the De Sacy Edition.
8 Contes Persans, suivis des Contes Turcs. Paris; Béchet Ainé, 1826.
9 In the old translation we have “eighteen hundred years since the prophet Solomon died,” (B.C. 975) = A.D. 825.
10 Meaning the era of the Seleucides. Dr. Jonathan Scott shows (vol. ii. 324) that A.H. 653 and A.D. 1255 would correspond with 1557 of that epoch; so that the scribe has here made a little mistake of 5,763 years. Ex uno disce.
11 The Saturday Review (Jan. 2nd ‘86) writes, “Captain Burton has fallen into a mistake by not distinguishing between the names of the by no means identical Caliphs Al–Muntasir and Al–Mustansir.” Quite true: it was an ugly confusion of the melancholy madman and parricide with one of the best and wisest of the Caliphs. I can explain (not extenuate) my mistake only by a misprint in Al–Siyúti (p. 554).
12 In the Galland Ms. and the Bresl. Edit. (ii. 253), we find the Barber saying that the Caliph (Al–Mustansir) was at that time (yaumaizin) in Baghdad, and this has been held to imply that the Caliphate had fallen. But such conjecture is evidently based upon insufficient grounds.
13 De Sacy makes the “Kalandar” order originate in A.D. 1150, but the Shaykh Sharíf bú Ali Kalandar died in A.D. 1323–24. In Sind the first Kalandar, Osmán-i-Marwándí surnamed Lál Sháhbáz, the Red Goshawk, from one of his miracles, died and was buried at Sehwán in A D. 1274: see my “History of Sindh” chapt. viii. for details. The dates therefore run wild.
14 In this same tale H. H. Wilson observes that the title of Sultan of Egypt was not assumed before the middle of the xiith century.
15 Popularly called Vidyanagar of the Narsingha.
16 Time-measurers are of very ancient date. The Greeks had clepsydræ and the Romans gnomons, portable and ring-shaped, besides large standing town-dials as at Aquileja and San Sabba near Trieste. The “Saracens” were the perfecters of the clepsydra: Bosseret (p. 16) and the Chronicon Turense (Beckmann ii. 340 et seq.) describe the water-clock sent by Al–Rashid to Karl the Great as a kind of “cockoo-clock.” Twelve doors in the dial opened successively and little balls dropping on brazen bells told the hour: at noon a dozen mounted knights paraded the face and closed the portals. Trithonius mentions an horologium presented in A.D. 1232 by Al–Malik al-Kámil the Ayyubite Soldan to the Emperor Frederick II: like the Strasbourg and Padua clocks it struck the hours, told the day, month and year, showed the phases of the moon, and registered the position of the sun and the planets. Towards the end of the fifteenth century Gaspar Visconti mentions in a sonnet the watch proper (certi orologii piccioli e portativi); and the “animated eggs” of Nurembourg became famous. The earliest English watch (Sir Ashton Lever’s) dates from 1541: and in 1544 the portable chronometer became common in France.
17 An illustrated History of Arms and Armour etc. (p. 59); London: Bell and Sons, 1877. The best edition is the Guide des Amateurs d’Armes, Paris: Renouard, 1879.
18 Chapt. iv. Dr. Gustav Oppert “On the Weapons etc. of the Ancient Hindus;” London: Trübner and Co., 1880.:
19 I have given other details on this subject in pp. 631- 637 of “Camoens, his Life and his Lusiads.”
20 The morbi venerei amongst the Romans are obscure because “whilst the satirists deride them the physicians are silent.” Celsus, however, names (De obscenarum partium vitiis, lib. xviii.) inflammatio coleorum (swelled testicle), tubercula glandem (warts on the glans penis), cancri carbunculi (chancre or shanker) and a few others. The rubigo is noticed as a lues venerea by Servius in Virg. Georg.
21 According to David Forbes, the Peruvians believed that syphilis arose from connection of man and alpaca; and an old law forbade bachelors to keep these animals in the house. Francks explains by the introduction of syphilis wooden figures found in the Chinchas guano; these represented men with a cord round the neck or a serpent devouring the genitals.
22 They appeared before the gates of Paris in the summer of 1427, not “about July, 1422”: in Eastern Europe, however, they date from a much earlier epoch. Sir J. Gilbert’s famous picture has one grand fault, the men walk and the women ride: in real life the reverse would be the case.
23 Rabelais ii. c. 30.
24 I may be allowed to note that syphilis does not confine itself to man: a charger infected with it was pointed out to me at Baroda by my late friend, Dr. Arnott (18th Regiment, Bombay N.I.) and Tangier showed me some noticeable cases of this hippic syphilis, which has been studied in Hungary. Eastern peoples have a practice of “passing on” venereal and other diseases, and transmission is supposed to cure the patient; for instance a virgin heals (and catches) gonorrhœa. Syphilis varies greatly with climate. In Persia it is said to be propagated without contact: in Abyssinia it is often fatal and in Egypt it is readily cured by sand baths and sulphur-unguents. Lastly in lands like Unyamwezi, where mercurials are wholly unknown, I never saw caries of the nasal or facial bones.
25 For another account of the transplanter and the casuistical questions to which coffee gave rise, see my “First Footsteps in East Africa” (p. 76).
26 The first mention of coffee proper (not of Kahwah or old wine in vol. ii. 260) is in Night cdxxvi. vol. v. 169, where the coffee-maker is called Kahwahjiyyah, a mongrel term showing the modern date of the passage in Ali the Cairene. As the work advances notices become thicker, e.g. in Night dccclxvi. where Ali Nur al-Din and the Frank King’s daughter seems to be a modernisation of the story “Ala al-Din Abu al-Shámát” (vol. iv. 29); and in Abu Kir and Abu Sir (Nights cmxxx. and cmxxxvi.) where coffee is drunk with sherbet after present fashion. The use culminates in Kamar al-Zaman II. where it is mentioned six times (Nights cmlxvi. cmlxx. cmlxxi. twice; cmlxxiv. and cmlxxvii.), as being drunk after the dawn-breakfast and following the meal as a matter of course. The last notices are in Abdullah bin Fazil, Nights cmlxxviii. and cmlxxix.
27 It has been suggested that Japanese tobacco is an indigenous growth and sundry modern travellers in China contend that the potato and the maize, both white and yellow, have there been cultivated from time immemorial.
28 For these see my “City of the Saints,” p. 136.
29 Lit. meaning smoke: hence the Arabic “Dukhán,” with the same signification.
We know absolutely nothing of the author or authors who produced our marvellous Recueil. Galland justly observes (Epist. Dedic.), “probably this great work is not by a single hand; for how can we suppose that one man alone could own a fancy fertile enough to invent so many ingenious fictions?” Mr. Lane, and Mr. Lane alone, opined that the work was written in Egypt by one person or at most by two, one ending what the other had begun, and that he or they had re-written the tales and completed the collection by new matter composed or arranged for the purpose. It is hard to see how the distinguished Arabist came to such a conclusion: at most it can be true only of the editors and scribes of Mss. evidently copied from each other, such as the Mac. and the Bul. texts. As the Reviewer (Forbes Falconer?) in the “Asiatic Journal” (vol. xxx., 1839) says, “Every step we have taken in the collation of these agreeable fictions has confirmed us in the belief that the work called the Arabian Nights is rather a vehicle for stories, partly fixed and partly arbitrary, than a collection fairly deserving, from its constant identity with itself, the name of a distinct work, and the reputation of having wholly emanated from the same inventive mind. To say nothing of the improbability of supposing that one individual, with every license to build upon the foundation of popular stories, a work which had once received a definite form from a single writer, would have been multiplied by the copyist with some regard at least to his arrangement of words as well as matter. But the various copies we have seen bear about as much mutual resemblance as if they had passed through the famous process recommended for disguising a plagiarism: ‘Translate your English author into French and again into English’.”
Moreover, the style of the several Tales, which will be considered in a future page (§ iii.), so far from being homogeneous is heterogeneous in the extreme. Different nationalities show them selves; West Africa, Egypt and Syria are all represented and, while some authors are intimately familiar with Baghdad, Damascus and Cairo, others are equally ignorant. All copies, written and printed, absolutely differ in the last tales and a measure of the divergence can be obtained by comparing the Bresl. Edit. with the Mac. text: indeed it is my conviction that the Mss. preserved in Europe would add sundry volumes full of tales to those hitherto translated; and here the Wortley Montagu copy can be taken as a test. We may, I believe, safely compare the history of The Nights with the so-called Homeric poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, a collection of immortal ballads and old Epic formulæ and verses traditionally handed down from rhapsode to rhapsode, incorporated in a slowly-increasing body of poetry and finally welded together about the age of Pericles.
To conclude. From the data above given I hold myself justified in drawing the following deductions:—
The framework of the book is purely Persian perfunctorily arabised; the archetype being the Hazár Afsánah.1
The oldest tales, such as Sindibad (the Seven Wazirs) and King Jili’ád, may date from the reign of Al–Mansur, eighth century A.D.
The thirteen tales mentioned above (p. 78) as the nucleus of the Repertory, together with “Dalilah the Crafty,”2 may be placed in our tenth century.
The latest tales, notably Kamar al-Zaman the Second and Ma’aruf the Cobbler, are as late as the sixteenth century.
The work assumed its present form in the thirteenth century.
The author is unknown for the best reason; there never was one: for information touching the editors and copyists we must await the fortunate discovery of some Mss.
1 Unhappily the book is known only by name: for years I have vainly troubled friends and correspondents to hunt for a copy. Yet I am sanguine enough to think that some day we shall succeed: Mr. Sidney Churchill, of Teheran, is ever on the look-out.
2 In § 3 I shall suggest that this tale also is mentioned by Al–Mas’udi.
The history of The Nights in Europe is one of slow and gradual development. The process was begun (1704–17) by Galland, a Frenchman, continued (1823) by Von Hammer an Austro–German, and finished by Mr. John Payne (1882–84) an Englishman. But we must not forget that it is wholly and solely to the genius of the Gaul that Europe owes “The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments” over which Western childhood and youth have spent so many spelling hours. Antoine Galland was the first to discover the marvellous fund of material for the story-teller buried in the Oriental mine; and he had in a high degree that art of telling a tale which is far more captivating than culture or scholarship. Hence his delightful version (or perversion) became one of the world’s classics and at once made Sheherazade and Dinarzarde, Haroun Alraschid, the Calendars and a host of other personages as familiar to the home reader as Prospero, Robinson Crusoe, Lemuel Gulliver and Dr. Primrose. Without the name and fame won for the work by the brilliant paraphrase of the learned and single-minded Frenchman, Lane’s curious hash and latinized English, at once turgid and emasculated, would have found few readers. Mr. Payne’s admirable version appeals to the Orientalist and the “stylist,” not to the many-headed; and mine to the anthropologist and student of Eastern manners and customs. Galland did it and alone he did it: his fine literary flaire, his pleasing style, his polished taste and perfect tact at once made his work take high rank in the republic of letters nor will the immortal fragment ever be superseded in the infallible judgment of childhood. As the Encyclopædia Britannica has been pleased to ignore this excellent man and admirable Orientalist, numismatologist and littérateur, the reader may not be unwilling to see a short sketch of his biography.1
Antoine Galland was born in A.D. 1646 of peasant parents “poor and honest” at Rollot, a little bourg in Picardy some two leagues from Montdidier. He was a seventh child and his mother, left a widow in early life and compelled to earn her livelihood, saw scant chance of educating him when the kindly assistance of a Canon of the Cathedral and President of the Collége de Noyon relieved her difficulties. In this establishment Galland studied Greek and Hebrew for ten years, after which the “strait thing at home” apprenticed him to a trade. But he was made for letters; he hated manual labour and he presently removed en cachette to Paris, where he knew only an ancient kinswoman. She introduced him to a priestly relative of the Canon of Noyon, who in turn recommended him to the “Sous-principal” of the Collége Du Plessis. Here he made such notable progress in Oriental studies, that M. Petitpied, a Doctor of the Sorbonne, struck by his abilities, enabled him to study at the Collége Royal and eventually to catalogue the Eastern Mss. in the great ecclesiastical Society. Thence he passed to the Collége Mazarin, where a Professor, M. Godouin, was making an experiment which might be revived to advantage in our present schools. He collected a class of boys, aged about four, and proposed to teach them Latin speedily and easily by making them converse in the classical language as well as read and write it.2 Galland, his assistant, had not time to register success or failure before he was appointed attaché-secretary to M. de Nointel named in 1660 Ambassadeur de France for Constantinople. His special province was to study the dogmas and doctrines and to obtain official attestations concerning the articles of the Orthodox (or Greek) Christianity which had then been a subject of lively discussion amongst certain Catholics, especially Arnauld (Antoine) and Claude the Minister, and which even in our day occasionally crops up amongst “Protestants.”3 Galland, by frequenting the cafés and listening to the tale-teller, soon mastered Romaic and grappled with the religious question, under the tuition of a deposed Patriarch and of sundry Matráns or Metropolitans, whom the persecutions of the Pashas had driven for refuge to the Palais de France. M. de Nointel, after settling certain knotty points in the Capitulations, visited the harbour-towns of the Levant and the “Holy Places,” including Jerusalem, where Galland copied epigraphs, sketched monuments and collected antiques, such as the marbles in the Baudelot Gallery of which Père Dom Bernard de Montfaucon presently published specimens in his ‘‘Palæographia Græca,” etc. (Parisiis, 1708).
In Syria Galland was unable to buy a copy of The Nights: as he expressly states in his Epistle Dedicatory, il a fallu le faire venir de Syrie. But he prepared himself for translating it by studying the manners and customs, the religion and superstitions of the people; and in 1675, leaving his chief, who was ordered back to Stambul, he returned to France. In Paris his numismatic fame recommended him to MM. Vaillant, Carcary and Giraud who strongly urged a second visit to the Levant, for the purpose of collecting, and he set out without delay. In 1691 he made a third journey, travelling at the expense of the Compagnie des Indes–Orientales, with the main object of making purchases for the Library and Museum of Colbert the magnificent. The commission ended eighteen months afterwards with the changes of the Company, when Colbert and the Marquis de Louvois caused him to be created “Antiquary to the King,” Louis le Grand, and charged him with collecting coins and medals for the royal cabinet. As he was about to leave Smyrna, he had a narrow escape from the earthquake and subsequent fire which destroyed some fifteen thousand of the inhabitants: he was buried in the ruins; but, his kitchen being cold as becomes a philosopher’s, he was dug out unburnt.4
Galland again returned to Paris where his familiarity with Arabic and Hebrew, Persian and Turkish recommended him to MM. Thevenot and Bignon: this first President of the Grand Council acknowledged his services by a pension. He also became a favourite with D’Herbelot whose Bibliothèque Orientale, left unfinished at his death, he had the honour of completing and prefacing.5 President Bignon died within the twelvemonth, which made Galland attach himself in 1697 to M. Foucault, Councillor of State and Intendant (governor) of Caen in Lower Normandy, then famous for its academy: in his new patron’s fine library and numismatic collection he found materials for a long succession of works, including a translation of the Koran.6 They recommended him strongly to the literary world and in 1701 he was made a member of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres.
At Caen Galland issued in 1704,7 the first part of his Mille et une Nuits, Contes Arabes traduits en François which at once became famous as “The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.” Mutilated, fragmentary and paraphrastic though the tales were, the glamour of imagination, the marvel of the miracles and the gorgeousness and magnificence of the scenery at once secured an exceptional success; it was a revelation in romance, and the public recognised that it stood in presence of a monumental literary work. France was a-fire with delight at a something so new, so unconventional, so entirely without purpose, religious, moral or philosophical: the Oriental wanderer in his stately robes was a startling surprise to the easy-going and utterly corrupt Europe of the ancien régime with its indecently tight garments and perfectly loose morals. “Ils produisirent,” said Charles Nodier, a genius in his way, “dès le moment de leur publication, cet effet qui assure aux productions de l’esprit une vogue populaire, quoiqu’ils appartinssent à une littérature peu connue en France; et que ce genre de composition admit ou plutôt exigeât des détails de moeurs, de caractère, de costume et de localités absolument étrangers à toutes les idées établies dans nos contes et nos romans. On fut étonné du charme que résultait du leur lecture. C’est que la vérité des sentimens, la nouveauté des tableaux, une imagination féconde en prodiges, un coloris plein de chaleur, l’attrait d’une sensibilité sans prétention, et le sel d’un comique sans caricature, c’est que l’esprit et le naturel enfin plaisent partout, et plaisent à tout le monde.”8
The Contes Arabes at once made Galland’s name and a popular tale is told of them and him known to all reviewers who, however, mostly mangle it. In the Biographie Universelle of Michaud9 we find:— Dans les deux premiers volumes de ces contes l’exorde était toujours, “Ma chère sœur, si vous ne dormez pas, faites-nous un de ces contes que vous savez.” Quelques jeunes gens, ennuyés de cette plate uniformité, allèrent une nuit qu’il faisait très-grand froid, frapper à la porte de l’auteur, qui courut en chemise à sa fenêtre. Après l’avoir fait morfondre quelque temps par diverses questions insignificantes, ils terminèrent en lui disant, “Ah, Monsieur Galland, si vous ne dormez pas, faites-nous un de ces beaux contes que vous savez si bien.” Galland profita de la lecon, et supprima dans les volumes suivants le préambule qui lui avait attiré la plaisanterie. This legend has the merit of explaining why the Professor so soon gave up the Arab framework which he had deliberately adopted.
The Nights was at once translated from the French10 though when, where and by whom no authority seems to know. In Lowndes’ “Bibliographer’s Manual” the English Editio Princeps is thus noticed, “Arabian Nights’ Entertainments translated from the French, London, 1724, 12mo, 6 vols.” and a footnote states that this translation, very inaccurate and vulgar in its diction, was often reprinted. In 1712 Addison introduced into the Spectator (No. 535, Nov. 13) the Story of Alnaschar ( = Al–Nashshár, the Sawyer) and says that his remarks on Hope “may serve as a moral to an Arabian tale which I find translated into French by Monsieur Galland.” His version appears, from the tone and style, to have been made by himself, and yet in that year a second English edition had appeared. The nearest approach to the Edit. Princeps in the British Museum11 is a set of six volumes bound in three and corresponding with Galland’s first half dozen. Tomes i. and ii. are from the fourth edition of 1713, Nos. iii. and iv. are from the second of 1712 and v. and vi. are from the third of 1715. It is conjectured that the two first volumes were reprinted several times apart from their subsequents, as was the fashion of the day; but all is mystery. We (my friends and I) have turned over scores of books in the British Museum, the University Library and the Advocates’ Libraries of Edinburgh and Glasgow: I have been permitted to put the question in “Notes and Queries” and in the “Antiquary”; but all our researches hitherto have been in vain.
The popularity of The Nights in England must have rivalled their vogue in France, judging from the fact that in 1713, or nine years after Galland’s Edit. Prin. appeared, they had already reached a fourth issue. Even the ignoble national jealousy which prompted Sir William Jones grossly to abuse that valiant scholar, Auquetil du Perron, could not mar their popularity. But as there are men who cannot read Pickwick, so they were not wanting who spoke of “Dreams of the distempered fancy of the East.”12 “When the work was first published in England,” says Henry Webber,13 “it seems to have made a considerable impression upon the public.” Pope in 1720 sent two volumes (French? or English?) to Bishop Atterbury, without making any remark on the work; but, from his very silence, it may be presumed that he was not displeased with the perusal. The bishop, who does not appear to have joined a relish for the flights of imagination to his other estimable qualities, expressed his dislike of these tales pretty strongly and stated it to be his opinion, formed on the frequent descriptions of female dress, that they were the work of some Frenchman (Petis de la Croix, a mistake afterwards corrected by Warburton). The Arabian Nights, however, quickly made their way to public favour. “We have been informed of a singular instance of the effect they produced soon after their first appearance. Sir James Stewart, Lord Advocate for Scotland, having one Saturday evening found his daughters employed in reading these volumes, seized them with a rebuke for spending the evening before the ‘Sawbbath’ in such worldly amusement; but the grave advocate himself became a prey to the fascination of the tales, being found on the morning of the Sabbath itself employed in their perusal, from which he had not risen the whole night.” As late as 1780 Dr. Beattie professed himself uncertain whether they were translated or fabricated by M. Galland; and, while Dr. Pusey wrote of them “Noctes Mille et Una dictæ, quæ in omnium firmè populorum cultiorum linguas conversæ, in deliciis omnium habentur, manibusque omnium terentur,”14 the amiable Carlyle, in the gospel according to Saint Froude, characteristically termed them “downright lies” and forbade the house to such “unwholesome literature.” What a sketch of character in two words!
The only fault found in France with the Contes Arabes was that their style is peu correcte; in fact they want classicism. Yet all Gallic imitators, Trébutien included, have carefully copied their leader and Charles Nodier remarks:—“Il me semble que l’on n’a pas rendu assez de justice au style de Galland. Abondant sans être prolixe, naturel et familier sans être lâche ni trivial, il ne manque jamais de cette elegance qui résulte de la facilité, et qui présente je ne sais quel mélange de la naïveté de Perrault et de la bonhomie de La Fontaine.”
Our Professor, with a name now thoroughly established, returned in 1706 to Paris, where he was an assiduous and efficient member of the Société Numismatique and corresponded largely with foreign Orientalists. Three years afterwards he was made Professor of Arabic at the Collége de France, succeeding Pierre Dippy; and, during the next half decade, he devoted himself to publishing his valuable studies. Then the end came. In his last illness, an attack of asthma complicated with pectoral mischief, he sent to Noyon for his nephew Julien Galland15 to assist him in ordering his Mss. and in making his will after the simplest military fashion: he bequeathed his writings to the Bibliothèque du Roi, his Numismatic Dictionary to the Academy and his Alcoran to the Abbé Bignon. He died, aged sixty-nine on February 17, 1715, leaving his second part of The Nights unpublished.16
Professor Galland was a French littérateur of the good old school which is rapidly becoming extinct. Homme vrai dans les moindres choses (as his Éloge stated); simple in life and manners and single-hearted in his devotion to letters, he was almost childish in worldly matters, while notable for penetration and acumen in his studies. He would have been as happy, one of his biographers remarks, in teaching children the elements of education as he was in acquiring his immense erudition. Briefly, truth and honesty, exactitude and indefatigable industry characterised his most honourable career.
Galland informs us (Epist. Ded.) that his Ms. consisted of four volumes, only three of which are extant,17 bringing the work down to Night cclxxxii., or about the beginning of “Camaralzaman.” The missing portion, if it contained like the other volumes 140 pages, would end that tale together with the Stories of Ghánim and the Enchanted (Ebony) Horse; and such is the disposition in the Bresl. Edit. which mostly favours in its ordinance the text used by the first translator. But this would hardly have filled more than two-thirds of his volumes; for the other third he interpolated, or is supposed to have interpolated, the ten18 following tales.
1. Histoire du prince Zeyn Al-asnam et du Roi des Génies.19 2. Histoire de Codadad et de ses frères. 3. Histoire de la Lampe merveilleuse (Aladdin). 4. Histoire de l’aveugle Baba Abdalla. 5. Histoire de Sidi Nouman. 6. Histoire de Cogia Hassan Alhabbal. 7. Histoire d’Ali Baba, et de Quarante Voleurs exterminés par une Esclave. 8. Histoire d’Ali Cogia, marchand de Bagdad. 9. Histoire du prince Ahmed et de la fée Peri–Banou. 10. Histoire de deux Sœurs jalouses de leur Cadette.20
Concerning these interpolations which contain two of the best and most widely known stories in the work, Aladdin and the Forty Thieves, conjectures have been manifold but they mostly run upon three lines. De Sacy held that they were found by Galland in the public libraries of Paris. Mr. Chenery, whose acquaintance with Arabic grammar was ample, suggested that the Professor had borrowed them from the recitations of the Rawis, rhapsodists or professional story-tellers in the bazars of Smyrna and other ports of the Levant. The late Mr. Henry Charles Coote (in the “Folk–Lore Record,” vol. iii. Part ii. p. 178 et seq.), “On the source of some of M. Galland’s Tales,” quotes from popular Italian, Sicilian and Romaic stories incidents identical with those in Prince Ahmad, Aladdin, Ali Baba and the Envious Sisters, suggesting that the Frenchman had heard these paramythia in Levantine coffee-houses and had inserted them into his unequalled corpus fabularum. Mr. Payne (ix. 268) conjectures the probability “of their having been composed at a comparatively recent period by an inhabitant of Baghdad, in imitation of the legends of Haroun er Rashid and other well-known tales of the original work;” and adds, “It is possible that an exhaustive examination of the various Ms. copies of the Thousand and One Nights known to exist in the public libraries of Europe might yet cast some light upon the question of the origin of the interpolated Tales.” I quite agree with him, taking “The Sleeper and the Waker’’ and “Zeyn Al-asnam” as cases in point; but I should expect, for reasons before given, to find the stories in a Persic rather than an Arabic Ms. And I feel convinced that all will be recovered: Galland was not the man to commit a literary forgery.
As regards Aladdin, the most popular tale of the whole work, I am convinced that it is genuine, although my unfortunate friend, the late Professor Palmer, doubted its being an Eastern story. It is laid down upon all the lines of Oriental fiction. The mise-en-scène is China, “where they drink a certain warm liquor” (tea); the hero’s father is a poor tailor; and, as in “Judar and his Brethren,” the Maghribi Magician presently makes his appearance, introducing the Wonderful Lamp and the Magical Ring. Even the Sorcerer’s cry, “New lamps for old lamps!”— a prime point — is paralleled in the Tale of the Fisherman’s Son,21 where the Jew asks in exchange only old rings and the Princess, recollecting that her husband kept a shabby, well-worn ring in his writing-stand, and he being asleep, took it out and sent it to the man. In either tale the palace is transported to a distance and both end with the death of the wicked magician and the hero and heroine living happily together ever after.
All Arabists have remarked the sins of omission and commission, of abridgment, amplification and substitution, and the audacious distortion of fact and phrase in which Galland freely indulged, whilst his knowledge of Eastern languages proves that he knew better. But literary license was the order of his day and at that time French, always the most begueule of European languages, was bound by a rigorisme of the narrowest and the straightest of lines from which the least ecart condemned a man as a barbarian and a tudesque. If we consider Galland fairly we shall find that he errs mostly for a purpose, that of popularising his work; and his success indeed justified his means. He has been derided (by scholars) for “Hé Monsieur!” and “Ah Madame!”; but he could not write “O mon sieur” and “O ma dame;” although we can borrow from biblical and Shakespearean English, “O my lord!” and “O my lady!” “Bon Dieu! ma sœur” (which our translators English by “O heavens,” Night xx.) is good French for Wa’lláhi — by Allah; and “cinquante cavaliers bien faits” (“fifty handsome gentlemen on horseback”) is a more familiar picture than fifty knights. “L’officieuse Dinarzade” (Night lxi.), and “Cette plaisante querelle des deux frères” (Night 1xxii.) become ridiculous only in translation —“the officious Dinarzade” and “this pleasant quarrel;” while “ce qu’il y de remarquable” (Night 1xxiii.) would relieve the Gallic mind from the mortification of “Destiny decreed.” “Plusieurs sortes de fruits et de bouteilles de vin” (Night ccxxxi. etc.) Europeanises flasks and flaggons; and the violent convulsions in which the girl dies (Night cliv., her head having been cut off by her sister) is mere Gallic squeamishness: France laughs at “le shoking” in England but she has only to look at home especially during the reign of Galland’s contemporary — Roi Soleil. The terrible “Old man” (Shaykh) “of the Sea” (-board) is badly described by “l’incommode vieillard” (“the ill-natured old fellow”): “Brave Maimune” and “Agréable Maimune” are hardly what a Jinni would say to a Jinniyah (ccxiii.); but they are good Gallic. The same may be noted of “Plier les voiles pour marque qu’il se rendait” (Night ccxxxv.), a European practice; and of the false note struck in two passages. “Je m’estimais heureuse d’avoir fait une si belle conquête” (Night 1xvii.) gives a Parisian turn; and, “Je ne puis voir sans horreur cet abominable barbier que voilà: quoiqu’il soit né dans un pays où tout le monde est blanc, il ne laisse pas à resembler a un Éthiopien; mais il a l’âme encore plus noire et horrible que le visage” (Night clvii.), is a mere affectation of Orientalism. Lastly, “Une vieille dame de leur connaissance” (Night clviii.) puts French polish upon the matter of fact Arab’s “an old woman.”
The list of absolute mistakes, not including violent liberties, can hardly be held excessive. Professor Weil and Mr. Payne (ix. 271) justly charge Galland with making the Trader (Night i.) throw away the shells (écorces) of the date which has only a pellicle, as Galland certainly knew; but dates were not seen every day in France, while almonds and walnuts were of the quatre mendiants. He preserves the écorces, which later issues have changed to noyaux, probably in allusion to the jerking practice called Inwá. Again in the “First Shaykh’s Story” (vol. i. 27) the “maillet” is mentioned as the means of slaughtering cattle, because familiar to European readers: at the end of the tale it becomes “le couteaufuneste.” In Badral Din a “tarte à la crême,” so well known to the West, displaces, naturally enough, the outlandish “mess of pomegranate-seeds.” Though the text especially tells us the hero removed his bag-trousers (not only “son habit”) and placed them under the pillow, a crucial fact in the history, our Professor sends him to bed fully dressed, apparently for the purpose of informing his readers in a foot-note that Easterns “se couchent en caleçon” (Night lxxx.). It was mere ignorance to confound the arbalète or cross-bow with the stone-bow (Night xxxviii.), but this has universally been done, even by Lane who ought to have known better; and it was an unpardonable carelessness or something worse to turn Nár (fire) and Dún (in lieu of) into “le faux dieu Nardoun” (Night lxv.): as this has been untouched by De Sacy, I cannot but conclude that he never read the text with the translation. Nearly as bad also to make the Jewish physician remark, when the youth gave him the left wrist (Night cl.), “voilà une grande ignorance de ne savoir pas que l’on presente la main droite à un médecin et non pas la gauche”— whose exclusive use all travellers in the East must know. I have noticed the incuriousness which translates “along the Nile-shore” by “up towards Ethiopia” (Night cli.), and the “Islands of the Children of Khaledan” (Night ccxi.) instead of the Khálidatáni or Khálidát, the Fortunate Islands. It was by no means “des petite soufflets” (“some taps from time to time with her fingers”) which the sprightly dame administered to the Barber’s second brother (Night clxxi.), but sound and heavy “cuffs” on the nape; and the sixth brother (Night clxxx.) was not “aux lèvres fendues” (“he of the hair-lips”), for they had been cut off by the Badawi jealous of his fair wife. Abu al-Hasan would not greet his beloved by saluting “le tapis à ses pieds:” he would kiss her hands and feet. Haïatalnefous (Hayat al-Nufús, Night ccxxvi.) would not “throw cold water in the Princess’s face:” she would sprinkle it with eau-de-rose. “Camaralzaman” I. addresses his two abominable wives in language purely European (ccxxx.), “et de la vie il ne s’approcha d’elles,” missing one of the fine touches of the tale which shows its hero a weak and violent man, hasty and lacking the pundonor. “La belle Persienne,” in the Tale of Nur al-Din, was no Persian; nor would her master address her, “Venez çà, impertinente!” (“come hither, impertinence”). In the story of Badr, one of the Comoro Islands becomes “L’île de la Lune.” “Dog” and “dog-son” are not “injures atroces et indignes d’un grand roi:” the greatest Eastern kings allow themselves far more energetic and significant language.
Fitnah22 is by no means “Force de cœurs.” Lastly the dénoûement of The Nights is widely different in French and in Arabic; but that is probably not Galland’s fault, as he never saw the original, and indeed he deserves high praise for having invented so pleasant and sympathetic a close, inferior only to the Oriental device.23
Galland’s fragment has a strange effect upon the Orientalist and those who take the scholastic view, be it wide or narrow. De Sacy does not hesitate to say that the work owes much to his fellow-countryman’s hand; but I judge otherwise: it is necessary to dissociate the two works and to regard Galland’s paraphrase, which contains only a quarter of The Thousand Nights and a Night, as a wholly different book. Its attempts to amplify beauties and to correct or conceal the defects and the grotesqueness of the original, absolutely suppress much of the local colour, clothing the bare body in the best of Parisian suits. It ignores the rhymed prose and excludes the verse, rarely and very rarely rendering a few lines in a balanced style. It generally rejects the proverbs, epigrams and moral reflections which form the pith and marrow of the book; and, worse still, it disdains those finer touches of character which are often Shakespearean in their depth and delicacy, and which, applied to a race of familiar ways and thoughts, manners and customs, would have been the wonder and delight of Europe. It shows only a single side of the gem that has so many facets. By deference to public taste it was compelled to expunge the often repulsive simplicity, the childish indecencies and the wild orgies of the original, contrasting with the gorgeous tints, the elevated morality and the religious tone of passages which crowd upon them. We miss the odeur du sang which taints the parfums du harem; also the humouristic tale and the Rabelaisian outbreak which relieve and throw out into strong relief the splendour of Empire and the havoc of Time. Considered in this light it is a caput mortuum, a magnificent texture seen on the wrong side; and it speaks volumes for the genius of the man who could recommend it in such blurred and caricatured condition to readers throughout the civilised world. But those who look only at Galland’s picture, his effort to “transplant into European gardens the magic flowers of Eastern fancy,” still compare his tales with the sudden prospect of magnificent mountains seen after a long desert-march: they arouse strange longings and indescribable desires; their marvellous imaginativeness produces an insensible brightening of mind and an increase of fancy-power, making one dream that behind them lies the new and unseen, the strange and unexpected — in fact, all the glamour of the unknown.
The Nights has been translated into every far-extending Eastern tongue, Persian, Turkish and Hindostani. The latter entitles them Hikáyát al-Jalílah or Noble Tales, and the translation was made by Munshi Shams al-Din Ahmad for the use of the College of Fort George in A.H. 1252 = 1836.24 All these versions are direct from the Arabic: my search for a translation of Galland into any Eastern tongue has hitherto been fruitless.
I was assured by the late Bertholdy Seemann that the “language of Hoffmann and Heine” contained a literal and complete translation of The Nights; but personal enquiries at Leipzig and elsewhere convinced me that the work still remains to be done. The first attempt to improve upon Galland and to show the world what the work really is was made by Dr. Max Habicht and was printed at Breslau (1824–25), in fifteen small square volumes.25 Thus it appeared before the “Tunis Manuscript”26 of which it purports to be a translation. The German version is, if possible, more condemnable than the Arabic original. It lacks every charm of style; it conscientiously shirks every difficulty; it abounds in the most extraordinary blunders and it is utterly useless as a picture of manners or a book of reference. We can explain its lâches only by the theory that the eminent Professor left the labour to his collaborateurs and did not take the trouble to revise their careless work.
The next German translation was by Aulic Councillor J. von Hammer–Purgstallt who, during his short stay at Cairo and Constantinople, turned into French the tales neglected by Galland. After some difference with M. Caussin (de Perceval) in 1810, the Styrian Orientalist entrusted his Ms. to Herr Cotta the publisher of Tubingen. Thus a German version appeared, the translation of a translation, at the hand of Professor Zinserling,27 while the French version was unaccountably lost en route to London. Finally the “Contes inédits,” etc., appeared in a French translation by G. S. Trébutien (Paris, mdcccxxviii.). Von Hammer took liberties with the text which can compare only with those of Lane: he abridged and retrenched till the likeness in places entirely disappeared; he shirked some difficult passages and he misexplained others. In fact the work did no honour to the amiable and laborious historian of the Turks.
The only good German translation of The Nights is due to Dr. Gustav Weil who, born on April 24, 1808, is still (1886) professing at Heidelburg.28 His originals (he tells us) were the Breslau Edition, the Bulak text of Abd al-Rahman al-Safati and a Ms. in the library of Saxe Gotha. The venerable savant, who has rendered such service to Arabism, informs me that Aug. Lewald’s “Vorhalle” (pp. i.-xv.)29 was written without his knowledge. Dr. Weil neglects the division of days which enables him to introduce any number of tales: for instance, Galland’s eleven occupy a large part of vol. iii. The Vorwort wants development, the notes, confined to a few words, are inadequate and verse is everywhere rendered by prose, the Saj’a or assonance being wholly ignored. On the other hand the scholar shows himself by a correct translation, contrasting strongly with those which preceded him, and by a strictly literal version, save where the treatment required to be modified in a book intended for the public. Under such circumstances it cannot well be other than longsome and monotonous reading.
Although Spain and Italy have produced many and remarkable Orientalists, I cannot find that they have taken the trouble to translate The Nights for themselves: cheap and gaudy versions of Galland seem to have satisfied the public.30 Notes on the Romaic, Icelandic, Russian (?) and other versions, will be found in a future page.
Professor Galland has never been forgotten in France where, amongst a host of editions, four have claims to distinction;31 and his success did not fail to create a host of imitators and to attract what De Sacy justly terms “une prodigieuse importation de marchandise de contrabande.” As early as 1823 Von Hammer numbered seven in France (Trébutien, Préface xviii.) and during later years they have grown prodigiously. Mr. William F. Kirby, who has made a special study of the subject, has favoured me with detailed bibliographical notes on Galland’s imitators which are printed in Appendix No. II.
1 I have extracted it from many books, especially from Hoeffer’s Biographie Générale, Paris, Firmin Didot, mdccclvii.; Biographie Universelle, Paris, Didot, 1816, etc. etc. All are taken from the work of M. de Boze, his “Bozzy.”
2 As learning a language is an affair of pure memory, almost without other exercise of the mental faculties, it should be assisted by the ear and the tongue as well as the eyes. I would invariably make pupils talk, during lessons, Latin and Greek, no matter how badly at first; but unfortunately I should have to begin with teaching the pedants who, as a class, are far more unwilling and unready to learn than are those they teach.
3 The late Dean Stanley was notably trapped by the wily Greek who had only political purposes in view. In religions as a rule the minimum of difference breeds the maximum of disputation, dislike and disgust.
4 See in Trébutien (Avertissement iii.) how Baron von Hammer escaped drowning by the blessing of The Nights.
5 He signs his name to the Discours pour servir de Préface.
6 I need not trouble the reader with their titles, which fill up nearly a column and a half in M. Hoeffer. His collection of maxims from Arabic, Persian and Turkish authors appeared in English in 1695.
7 Galland’s version was published in 1704–1717 in 12 vols. 12mo., (Hoeffer’s Biographie; Grasse’s Trésor de Livres rares and Encyclop. Britannica, ixth Edit.)
8 See also Leigh Hunt “The Book of the Thousand Nights and one Night,” etc., etc. London and Westminster Review Art. iii., No. 1xiv. mentioned in Lane, iii., 746.
9 Edition of 1856 vol. xv.
10 To France England also owes her first translation of the Koran, a poor and mean version by Andrew Ross of that made from the Arabic (No. iv.) by André du Reyer, Consul de France for Egypt. It kept the field till ousted in 1734 by the learned lawyer George Sale whose conscientious work, including Preliminary Discourse and Notes (4to London), brought him the ill-fame of having “turned Turk.”
11 Catalogue of Printed Books, 1884, p. 159, col. i. I am ashamed to state this default in the British Museum, concerning which Englishmen are apt to boast and which so carefully mulcts modern authors in unpaid copies. But it is only a slight specimen of the sad state of art and literature in England, neglected equally by Conservatives, Liberals and Radicals. What has been done for the endowment of research? What is our equivalent for the Prix de Rome? Since the death of Dr. Birch, who can fairly deal with a Demotic papyrus? Contrast the Société Anthropologique and its palace and professors in Paris with our “Institute” au second in a corner of Hanover Square and its skulls in the cellar!
12 Art. vii. pp. 139–168, “On the Arabian Nights and translators, Weil, Torrens and Lane (vol. i.) with the Essai of A. Loisseleur Deslongchamps.” The Foreign Quarterly Review, vol. xxiv., Oct. 1839-Jan. 1840. London, Black and Armstrong, 1840.
13 Introduction to his Collection “Tales of the East,” 3 vols. Edinburgh, 1812. He was the first to point out the resemblance between the introductory adventures of Shahryar and Shah Zaman and those of Astolfo and Giacondo in the Orlando Furioso (Canto xxviii.). M. E. Lévêque in Les Mythes et les Légendes de l’Inde et la Perse (Paris, 1880) gives French versions of the Arabian and Italian narratives, side by side in p. 543 ff. (Clouston).
14 Notitiæ Codicis MI. Noctium. Dr. Pusey studied Arabic to familiarise himself with Hebrew, and was very different from his predecessor at Oxford in my day, who, when applied to for instruction in Arabic, refused to lecture except to a class.
15 This nephew was the author of “Recueil des Rits et Cérémonies des Pilgrimages de La Mecque,” etc. etc. Paris and Amsterdam, 1754, in 12mo.
16 The concluding part did not appear, I have said, till 1717: his “Comes et Fables Indiennes de Bidpaï et de Lokman,” were first printed in 1724, 2 vols. in 12mo. Hence, I presume, Lowndes’ mistake.
17 M. Caussin (de Perceval), Professeur of Arabic at the Imperial Library, who edited Galland in 1806, tells us that he found there only two Mss., both imperfect. The first (Galland’s) is in three small vols. 4to. each of about pp. 140. The stories are more detailed and the style, more correct than that of other Ms., is hardly intelligible to many Arabs, whence he presumes that it contains the original (an early?) text which has been altered and vitiated. The date is supposed to be circa A.D. 1600. The second Parisian copy is a single folio of some 800 pages, and is divided into 29 sections and cmv. Nights, the last two sections being reversed. The Ms. is very imperfect, the 12th, 15th, 16th, 18th, 20th, 21st-23rd, 25th and 27th parts are wanting; the sections which follow the 17th contain sundry stories repeated, there are anecdotes from Bidpai, the Ten Wazirs and other popular works, and lacunæ everywhere abound.
18 Mr. Payne (ix. 264) makes eleven, including the Histoire du Dormeur éveillé = The Sleeper and the Waker, which he afterwards translated from the Bresl. Edit. in his “Tales from the Arabic” (vol. i. 5, etc.)
19 Mr. E. J. W. Gibb informs me that he has come upon this tale in a Turkish storybook, the same from which he drew his “Jewád.”
20 A littérateur lately assured me that Nos. ix. and x. have been found in the Bibliothèque Nationale (du Roi) Paris; but two friends were kind enough to enquire and ascertained that it was a mistake. Such Persianisms as Codadad (Khudadad), Baba Cogia (Khwájah) and Peri (fairy) suggest a Persic Ms.
21 Vol. vi. 212. “The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments (London: Longmans, 1811) by Jonathan Scott, with the Collection of New Tales from the Wortley Montagu Ms. in the Bodleian.” I regret to see that Messieurs Nimmo in reprinting Scott have omitted his sixth Volume.
22 Dr. Scott who uses Fitnah (iv. 42) makes it worse by adding “Alcolom (Al–Kulúb?) signifying Ravisher of Hearts” and his names for the six slave-girls (vol. iv. 37) such as “Zohorob Bostan” (Zahr al-Bústán), which Galland rightly renders by “Fleur du Jardin,” serve only to heap blunder upon blunder. Indeed the Anglo–French translations are below criticism: it would be waste of time to notice them. The characteristic is a servile suit paid to the original e.g. rendering hair “accomodé en boucles” by “hair festooned in buckles” (Night ccxiv.), and Île d’Ébène (Jazírat al-Abnús, Night xliii.) by “the Isle of Ebene.” A certain surly old littérateur tells me that he prefers these wretched versions to Mr. Payne’s. Padrone! as the Italians say: I cannot envy his taste or his temper.
23 De Sacy (Mémoire p. 52) notes that in some Mss., the Sultan, ennuyé by the last tales of Shahrázad, proposes to put her to death, when she produces her three children and all ends merrily without marriage-bells. Von Hammer prefers this version as the more dramatic, the Frenchman rejects it on account of the difficulties of the accouchements. Here he strains at the gnat — a common process.
24 See Journ. Asiatique, iii. série, vol. viii., Paris, 1839.
25 “Tausend und Eine Nacht: Arabische Erzählungen. Zum ersten mal aus einer Tunisischen Handschrift ergänzt und vollstandig übersetzt,” Von Max Habicht, F. H. von der Hagen und Karl Schatte (the offenders?).
26 Dr. Habicht informs us (Vorwort iii., vol. ix. 7) that he obtained his Ms. with other valuable works from Tunis, through a personal acquaintance, a learned Arab, Herr M. Annagar (Mohammed Al–Najjár?) and was aided by Baron de Sacy, Langlès and other savants in filling up the lacunæ by means of sundry Mss. The editing was a prodigy of negligence: the corrigenda (of which brief lists are given) would fill a volume; and, as before noticed, the indices of the first four tomes were printed in the fifth, as if the necessity of a list of tales had just struck the dense editor. After Habicht’s death in 1839 his work was completed in four vols. (ix.-xii.) by the well-known Prof. H. J. Fleischer who had shown some tartness in his “Dissertatio Critica de Glossis Habichtianis.” He carefully imitated all the shortcomings of his predecessor and even omitted the Verzeichniss etc., the Varianten and the Glossary of Arabic words not found in Golius, which formed the only useful part of the first eight volumes.
27 Die in Tausend und Eine Nacht noch nicht übersetzten Nächte, Erzählungen und Anekdoten, zum erstenmal aus dem Arabischen in das Französische übersetzt von J. von Hammer, und aus dem Französischen in das Deutsche von A. E. Zinserling, Professor, Stuttgart und Tubingen, 1823. Drei Bde. 80. Trébutien’s, therefore, is the translation of a translation of a translation.
28 Tausend und Eine Nacht Arabische Erzählungen. Zum erstenmale aus dem Urtexte vollständig und treu uebersetze von Dr. Gustav Weil. He began his work on return from Egypt in 1836 and completed his first version of the Arabische Meisterwerk in 1838–42 (3 vols. roy. oct.). I have the Zweiter Abdruck der dritten (2d reprint of 3d) in 4 vols. 8vo., Stuttgart, 1872. It has more than a hundred woodcuts.
29 My learned friend Dr. Wilhelm Storck, to whose admirable translations of Camoens I have often borne witness, notes that this Vorhalle, or Porch to the first edition, a rhetorical introduction addressed to the general public, is held in Germany to be valueless and that it was noticed only for the Bemerkung concerning the offensive passages which Professor Weil had toned down in his translation. In the Vorwort of the succeeding editions (Stuttgart) it is wholly omitted.
30 The most popular are now “Mille ed una notte. Novelle Arabe.” Napoli, 1867, 8vo illustrated, 4 francs; and “Mille ed une notte. Novelle Arabe, versione italiana nuovamente emendata e corredata di note”; 4 vols. in 32 (dateless) Milano, 8vo, 4 francs.
31 These are; (l) by M. Caussin (de Perceval), Paris, 1806, 9 vols. 8vo. (2) Edouard Gauttier, Paris, 1822–24: 7 vols. 12mo; (3) M. Destain, Paris, 1823–25, 6 vols. 8vo, and (4) Baron de Sacy, Paris. 1838 (?) 3 vols. large 8vo, illustrated (and vilely illustrated).
Returning to my threefold distribution of this Prose Poem (Section § I) into Fable, Fairy Tale and historical Anecdote1, let me proceed to consider these sections more carefully.
The Apologue or Beast-fable, which apparently antedates all other subjects in The Nights, has been called “One of the earliest creations of the awakening consciousness of mankind.” I should regard it, despite a monumental antiquity, as the offspring of a comparatively civilised age, when a jealous despotism or a powerful oligarchy threw difficulties and dangers in the way of speaking “plain truths.” A hint can be given and a friend or foe can be lauded or abused as Belins the sheep or Isengrim the wolf when the Author is debarred the higher enjoyment of praising them or dispraising them by name. And, as the purposes of fables are twofold —
Duplex libelli dos est: quod risum movet,
Et quod prudenti vitam consilio monet —
The speaking of brute beasts would give a piquancy and a pleasantry to moral design as well as to social and political satire.
The literary origin of the fable is not Buddhistic: we must especially shun that “Indo–Germanic” school which goes to India for its origins, when Pythagoras, Solon, Herodotus, Plato, Aristotle and possibly Homer sat for instruction at the feet of the Hir-seshtha, the learned grammarians of the pharaohnic court. Nor was it Æsopic, evidently Æsop inherited the hoarded wealth of ages. As Professor Lepsius taught us, “In the olden times within the memory of man, we know only of one advanced culture; of only one mode of writing, and of only one literary development, viz. those of Egypt.” The invention of an alphabet, as opposed to a syllabary, unknown to Babylonia, to Assyria and to that extreme bourne of their civilising influence, China, would for ever fix their literature — poetry, history and criticism,2 the apologue and the anecdote. To mention no others The Lion and the Mouse appears in a Leyden papyrus dating from B.C 1200–1166 the days of Rameses III. (Rhampsinitus) or Hak On, not as a rude and early attempt, but in a finished form, postulating an ancient origin and illustrious ancestry. The dialogue also is brought to perfection in the discourse between the Jackal Koufi and the Ethiopian Cat (Revue Égyptologique ivme. année Part i.). Africa therefore was the home of the Beast-fable not as Professor Mahaffy thinks, because it was the chosen land of animal worship, where
Oppida tote canem venerantur nemo Dianam;3
but simply because the Nile-land originated every form of literature between Fabliau and Epos.
From Kemi the Black-land it was but a step to Phoenicia, Judæa,4 Phrygia and Asia Minor, whence a ferry led over to Greece. Here the Apologue found its populariser in {Greek letters}, Æsop, whose name, involved in myth, possibly connects with:—
“Æsopus et Aithiops idem sonant”
says the sage. This would show that the Hellenes preserved a legend of the land whence the Beast-fable arose, and we may accept the fabulist’s æra as contemporary with Croesus and Solon (B.C. 570,) about a century after Psammeticus (Psamethik 1st) threw Egypt open to the restless Greek.5 From Africa too the Fable would in early ages migrate eastwards and make for itself a new home in the second great focus of civilisation formed by the Tigris–Euphrates Valley. The late Mr. George Smith found amongst the cuneiforms fragmentary Beast-fables, such as dialogues between the Ox and the Horse, the Eagle and the Sun. In after centuries, when the conquests of Macedonian Alexander completed what Sesostris and Semiramis had begun, and mingled the manifold families of mankind by joining the eastern to the western world, the Orient became formally hellenised. Under the Seleucidæ and during the life of the independent Bactrian Kingdom (B.C. 255–125), Grecian art and science, literature and even language overran the old Iranic reign and extended eastwards throughout northern India. Porus sent two embassies to Augustus in B.C. 19 and in one of them the herald Zarmanochagas (Shramanáchárya) of Bargosa, the modern Baroch in Guzerat, bore an epistle upon vellum written in Greek (Strabo xv. I section 78). “Videtis gentes populosque mutasse sedes” says Seneca (De Cons. ad Helv. c. vi.). Quid sibi volunt in mediis barbarorum regionibus Græcæ artes? Quid inter Indos Persasque Macedonicus sermo? Atheniensis in Asia turba est.” Upper India, in the Macedonian days would have been mainly Buddhistic, possessing a rude alphabet borrowed from Egypt through Arabia and Phoenicia, but still in a low and barbarous condition: her buildings were wooden and she lacked, as far as we know, stone-architecture — the main test of social development. But the Bactrian Kingdom gave an impulse to her civilisation and the result was classical opposed to vedic Sanskrit. From Persia Greek letters, extending southwards to Arabia, would find indigenous imitators and there Æsop would be represented by the sundry sages who share the name Lokman.6 One of these was of servile condition, tailor, carpenter or shepherd; and a “Habashi” (Æthiopian) meaning a negro slave with blubber lips and splay feet, so far showing a superficial likeness to the Æsop of history.
The Æsopic fable, carried by the Hellenes to India, might have fallen in with some rude and fantastic barbarian of Buddhistic “persuasion” and indigenous origin: so Reynard the Fox has its analogue amongst the Kafirs and the Vái tribe of Mandengan negroes in Liberia7 amongst whom one Doalu invented or rather borrowed a syllabarium. The modern Gypsies are said also to have beast-fables which have never been traced to a foreign source (Leland). But I cannot accept the refinement of difference which Professor Benfey, followed by Mr. Keith Falconer, discovers between the Æsopic and the Hindu apologue:— “In the former animals are allowed to act as animals: the latter makes them act as men in the form of animals.” The essence of the beast-fable is a reminiscence of Homo primigenius with erected ears and hairy hide, and its expression is to make the brother brute behave, think and talk like him with the superadded experience of ages. To early man the “lower animals,” which are born, live and die like himself, showing all the same affects and disaffects, loves and hates, passions, prepossessions and prejudices, must have seemed quite human enough and on an equal level to become his substitutes. The savage, when he began to reflect, would regard the carnivor and the serpent with awe, wonder and dread; and would soon suspect the same mysterious potency in the brute as in himself: so the Malays still look upon the Uran-utan, or Wood-man, as the possessor of superhuman wisdom. The hunter and the herdsman, who had few other companions, would presently explain the peculiar relations of animals to themselves by material metamorphosis, the bodily transformation of man to brute giving increased powers of working him weal and woe. A more advanced stage would find the step easy to metempsychosis, the beast containing the Ego (alias soul) of the human: such instinctive belief explains much in Hindu literature, but it was not wanted at first by the Apologue.
This blending of blood, this racial baptism would produce a fine robust progeny; and, after our second century, Ægypto-Græco-Indian stories overran the civilised globe between Rome and China. Tales have wings and fly farther than the jade hatchets of proto-historic days. And the result was a book which has had more readers than any other except the Bible. Its original is unknown.8 The volume, which in Pehlevi became the Jávidán Khirad (“Wisdom of Ages”) or the Testament of Hoshang, that ancient guebre King, and in Sanskrit the Panchatantra (“Five Chapters”), is a recueil of apologues and anecdotes related by the learned Brahman, Vishnu Sharmá for the benefit of his pupils the sons of an Indian Rajah. The Hindu original has been adapted and translated into a number of languages; Arabic, Hebrew and Syriac, Greek and Latin, Persian and Turkish, under a host of names.9 Voltaire 10 wisely remarks of this venerable production:— Quand on fait réflexion que presque toute la terre a été enfatuée de pareils contes, et qu’ils ont fait l’education du genre humain, on trouve les fables de Pilpay, de Lokman,11 d’Ésope, bien raisonables. But methinks the sage of Ferney might have said far more. These fables speak with the large utterance of early man; they have also their own especial beauty — the charms of well-preserved and time-honoured old age. There is in their wisdom a perfume of the past, homely and ancient-fashioned like a whiff of pot pourri, wondrous soothing withal to olfactories agitated by the patchoulis and jockey clubs of modern pretenders and petit-maîtres, with their grey young heads and pert intelligence, the motto of whose ignorance is “Connu!” Were a dose of its antique, mature experience adhibited to the Western before he visits the East, those few who could digest it might escape the normal lot of being twisted round the fingers of every rogue they meet from Dragoman to Rajah. And a quotation from them tells at once: it shows the quoter to be man of education, not a “Jangalí,” a sylvan or savage, as the Anglo–Indian official is habitually termed by his more civilised “fellow-subject.”
The main difference between the classical apologue and the fable in The Nights is that while Æsop and Gabrias write laconic tales with a single event and a simple moral, the Arabian fables are often “long-continued novelle involving a variety of events, each characterised by some social or political aspect, forming a narrative highly interesting in itself, often exhibiting the most exquisite moral, and yet preserving, with rare ingenuity, the peculiar characteristics of the actors.”12 And the distinction between the ancient and the mediæval apologue, including the modern which, since “Reineke Fuchs,” is mainly German, appears equally pronounced. The latter is humorous enough and rich in the wit which results from superficial incongruity: but it ignores the deep underlying bond which connects man with beast. Again, the main secret of its success is the strain of pungent satire, especially in the Renardine Cycle, which the people could apply to all unpopular “lordes and prelates, gostly and worldly.”
Our Recueil contains two distinct sets of apologues. 13 The first (vol. iii.) consists of eleven, alternating with five anecdotes (Nights cxlvi. — cliii.), following the lengthy and knightly romance of King Omar bin al Nu’man and followed by the melancholy love tale of Ali bin Bakkár. The second series in vol. ix., consisting of eight fables, not including ten anecdotes (Nights cmi. — cmxxiv.), is injected into the romance of King Jali’ad and Shimas mentioned by Al–Mas’udi as independent of The Nights. In both places the Beast-fables are introduced with some art and add variety to the subject-matter, obviating monotony — the deadly sin of such works — and giving repose to the hearer or reader after a climax of excitement such as the murder of the Wazirs. And even these are not allowed to pall upon the mental palate, being mingled with anecdotes and short tales, such as the Hermits (iii. 125), with biographical or literary episodes, acroamata, table-talk and analects where humorous Rabelaisian anecdote finds a place; in fact the fabliau or novella. This style of composition may be as ancient as the apologues. We know that it dates as far back as Rameses III., from the history of the Two Brothers in the Orbigny papyrus,14 the prototype of Yusuf and Zulaykha, the Koranic Joseph and Potiphar’s wife. It is told with a charming naïveté and such sharp touches of local colour as, “Come, let us make merry an hour and lie together! Let down thy hair!”
Some of the apologues in The Nights are pointless enough, rien moins qu’amusants; but in the best specimens, such as the Wolf and the Fox15 (the wicked man and the wily man), both characters are carefully kept distinct and neither action nor dialogue ever flags. Again The Flea and the Mouse (iii. 151), of a type familiar to students of the Pilpay cycle, must strike the home-reader as peculiarly quaint.
Next in date to the Apologue comes the Fairy Tale proper, where the natural universe is supplemented by one of purely imaginative existence. “As the active world is inferior to the rational soul,” says Bacon with his normal sound sense, “so Fiction gives to Mankind what History denies and in some measure satisfies the Mind with Shadows when it cannot enjoy the Substance. And as real History gives us not the success of things according to the deserts of vice and virtue, Fiction corrects it and presents us with the fates and fortunes of persons rewarded and punished according to merit.” But I would say still more. History paints or attempts to paint life as it is, a mighty maze with or without a plan: Fiction shows or would show us life as it should be, wisely ordered and laid down on fixed lines. Thus Fiction is not the mere handmaid of History: she has a household of her own and she claims to be the triumph of Art which, as Göethe remarked, is “Art because it is not Nature.” Fancy, la folle du logis, is “that kind and gentle portress who holds the gate of Hope wide open, in opposition to Reason, the surly and scrupulous guard.”16 As Palmerin of England says and says well, “For that the report of noble deeds doth urge the courageous mind to equal those who bear most commendation of their approved valiancy; this is the fair fruit of Imagination and of ancient histories.” And, last but not least, the faculty of Fancy takes count of the cravings of man’s nature for the marvellous, the impossible, and of his higher aspirations for the Ideal, the Perfect: she realises the wild dreams and visions of his generous youth and portrays for him a portion of that “other and better world,” with whose expectation he would console his age.
The imaginative varnish of The Nights serves admirably as a foil to the absolute realism of the picture in general. We enjoy being carried away from trivial and commonplace characters, scenes and incidents; from the matter of fact surroundings of a work-a-day world, a life of eating and drinking, sleeping and waking, fighting and loving, into a society and a mise-en-scène which we suspect can exist and which we know does not. Every man at some turn or term of his life has longed for supernatural powers and a glimpse of Wonderland. Here he is in the midst of it. Here he sees mighty spirits summoned to work the human mite’s will, however whimsical, who can transport him in an eye-twinkling whithersoever he wishes; who can ruin cities and build palaces of gold and silver, gems and jacinths; who can serve up delicate viands and delicious drinks in priceless chargers and impossible cups and bring the choicest fruits from farthest Orient: here he finds magas and magicians who can make kings of his friends, slay armies of his foes and bring any number of beloveds to his arms. And from this outraging probability and out-stripping possibility arises not a little of that strange fascination exercised for nearly two centuries upon the life and literature of Europe by The Nights, even in their mutilated and garbled form. The reader surrenders himself to the spell, feeling almost inclined to enquire “And why may it not be true?’’17 His brain is dazed and dazzled by the splendours which flash before it, by the sudden procession of Jinns and Jinniyahs, demons and fairies, some hideous, others preternaturally beautiful; by good wizards and evil sorcerers, whose powers are unlimited for weal and for woe; by mermen and mermaids, flying horses, talking animals, and reasoning elephants; by magic rings and their slaves and by talismanic couches which rival the carpet of Solomon. Hence, as one remarks, these Fairy Tales have pleased and still continue to please almost all ages, all ranks and all different capacities.
Dr. Hawkesworth18 observes that these Fairy Tales find favour “because even their machinery, wild and wonderful as it is, has its laws; and the magicians and enchanters perform nothing but what was naturally to be expected from such beings, after we had once granted them existence.” Mr. Heron “rather supposes the very contrary is the truth of the fact. It is surely the strangeness, the unknown nature, the anomalous character of the supernatural agents here employed, that makes them to operate so powerfully on our hopes, fears, curiosities, sympathies, and, in short, on all the feelings of our hearts. We see men and women, who possess qualities to recommend them to our favour, subjected to the influence of beings, whose good or ill will, power or weakness, attention or neglect, are regulated by motives and circumstances which we cannot comprehend: and hence, we naturally tremble for their fate, with the same anxious concern, as we should for a friend wandering, in a dark night, amidst torrents and precipices; or preparing to land on a strange island, while he knew not whether he should be received, on the shore, by cannibals waiting to tear him piecemeal, and devour him, or by gentle beings, disposed to cherish him with fond hospitality.” Both writers have expressed themselves well, but meseems each has secured, as often happens, a fragment of the truth and holds it to be the whole Truth. Granted that such spiritual creatures as Jinns walk the earth, we are pleased to find them so very human, as wise and as foolish in word and deed as ourselves: similarly we admire in a landscape natural forms like those of Staffa or the Palisades which favour the works of architecture. Again, supposing such preternaturalisms to be around and amongst us, the wilder and more capricious they prove, the more our attention is excited and our forecasts are baffled to be set right in the end. But this is not all. The grand source of pleasure in Fairy Tales is the natural desire to learn more of the Wonderland which is known to many as a word and nothing more, like Central Africa before the last half century: thus the interest is that of the “Personal Narrative” of a grand exploration to one who delights in travels. The pleasure must be greatest where faith is strongest; for instance amongst imaginative races like the Kelts and especially Orientals, who imbibe supernaturalism with their mother’s milk. “I am persuaded,” writes Mr. Bayle St. John,19 “that the great scheme of preternatural energy, so fully developed in The Thousand and One Nights, is believed in by the majority of the inhabitants of all the religious professions both in Syria and Egypt.” He might have added “by every reasoning being from prince to peasant, from Mullah to Badawi, between Marocco and Outer Ind.”
The Fairy Tale in The Nights is wholly and purely Persian. The gifted Iranian race, physically the noblest and the most beautiful of all known to me, has exercised upon the world-history an amount of influence which has not yet been fully recognised. It repeated for Babylonian art and literature what Greece had done for Egyptian, whose dominant idea was that of working for eternity a. Hellas and Iran instinctively chose as their characteristic the idea of Beauty, rejecting all that was exaggerated and grotesque; and they made the sphere of Art and Fancy as real as the world of Nature and Fact. The innovation was hailed by the Hebrews. The so-called Books of Moses deliberately and ostentatiously ignored the future state of rewards and punishments, the other world which ruled the life of the Egyptian in this world: the lawgiver, whoever he may have been, Osarsiph or Moshe, apparently held the tenet unworthy of a race whose career he was directing to conquest and isolation in dominion. But the Jews, removed to Mesopotamia, the second cradle of the creeds, presently caught the infection of their Asiatic media; superadded Babylonian legend to Egyptian myth; stultified The Law by supplementing it with the “absurdities of foreign fable” and ended, as the Talmud proves, with becoming the most wildly superstitious and “other worldly’’ of mankind.
The same change befel Al–Islam. The whole of its supernaturalism is borrowed bodily from Persia, which had “imparadised Earth by making it the abode of angels.” Mohammed, a great and commanding genius, blighted and narrowed by surroundings and circumstances to something little higher than a Covenanter or a Puritan, declared to his followers,
“I am sent to ‘stablish the manners and customs;”
and his deficiency of imagination made him dislike everything but “women, perfumes, and prayers,” with an especial aversion to music and poetry, plastic art and fiction. Yet his system, unlike that of Moses, demanded thaumaturgy and metaphysical entities, and these he perforce borrowed from the Jews who had borrowed them from the Babylonians: his soul and spirit, his angels and devils, his cosmogony, his heavens and hells, even the Bridge over the Great Depth are all either Talmudic or Iranian. But there he stopped and would have stopped others. His enemies among the Koraysh were in the habit of reciting certain Persian fabliaux and of extolling them as superior to the silly and equally fictitious stories of the “Glorious Koran.” The leader of these scoffers was one Nazr ibn Háris who, taken prisoner after the Battle of Bedr, was incontinently decapitated, by apostolic command, for what appears to be a natural and sensible preference. It was the same furious fanaticism and one-idea’d intolerance which made Caliph Omar destroy all he could find of the Alexandrian Library and prescribe burning for the Holy Books of the Persian Guebres. And the taint still lingers in Al–Islam: it will be said of a pious man, “He always studies the Koran, the Traditions and other books of Law and Religion; and he never reads poems nor listens to music or to stories.”
Mohammed left a dispensation or rather a reformation so arid, jejune and material that it promised little more than the “Law of Moses,” before this was vivified and racially baptised by Mesopotamian and Persic influences. But human nature was stronger than the Prophet and, thus outraged, took speedy and absolute revenge. Before the first century had elapsed, orthodox Al–Islam was startled by the rise of Tasawwuf or Sufyism20 a revival of classic Platonism and Christian Gnosticism, with a mingling of modern Hylozoism; which, quickened by the glowing imagination of the East, speedily formed itself into a creed the most poetical and impractical, the most spiritual and the most transcendental ever invented; satisfying all man’s hunger for “belief” which, if placed upon a solid basis of fact and proof, would forthright cease to be belief.
I will take from The Nights, as a specimen of the true Persian romance, “The Queen of the Serpents” (vol. v. 298), the subject of Lane’s Carlylean denunciation. The first gorgeous picture is the Session of the Snakes which, like their Indian congeners the Nága kings and queens, have human heads and reptile bodies, an Egyptian myth that engendered the “old serpent” of Genesis. The Sultánah welcomes Hásib Karím al-Dín, the hapless lad who had been left in a cavern to die by the greedy woodcutters; and, in order to tell him her tale, introduces the “Adventures of Bulúkiyá”: the latter is an Israelite converted by editor and scribe to Mohammedanism; but we can detect under his assumed faith the older creed. Solomon is not buried by authentic history “beyond the Seven (mystic) Seas,” but at Jerusalem or Tiberias; and his seal-ring suggests the Jám-i-Jam, the crystal cup of the great King Jamshíd. The descent of the Archangel Gabriel, so familiar to Al–Islam, is the manifestation of Bahman, the First Intelligence, the mightiest of the Angels who enabled Zarathustra–Zoroaster to walk like Bulukiya over the Dálatí or Caspian Sea. 21 Amongst the sights shown to Bulukiya, as he traverses the Seven Oceans, is a battle royal between the believing and the unbelieving Jinns, true Magian dualism, the eternal duello of the Two Roots or antagonistic Principles, Good and Evil, Hormuzd and Ahriman, which Milton has debased into a common-place modern combat fought also with cannon. Sakhr the Jinni is Eshem chief of the Divs, and Kaf, the encircling mountain, is a later edition of Persian Alborz. So in the Mantak al-Tayr (Colloquy of the Flyers) the Birds, emblems of souls, seeking the presence of the gigantic feathered biped Simurgh, their god, traverse seven Seas (according to others seven Wadys) of Search, of Love, of Knowledge, of Competence, of Unity, of Stupefaction, and of Altruism (i.e. annihilation of self), the several stages of contemplative life. At last, standing upon the mysterious island of the Simurgh and “casting a clandestine glance at him they saw thirty birds22 in him; and when they turned their eyes to themselves the thirty birds seemed one Simurgh: they saw in themselves the entire Simurgh; they saw in the Simurgh the thirty birds entirely.” Therefore they arrived at the solution of the problem “We and Thou;” that is, the identity of God and Man; they were for ever annihilated in the Simurgh and the shade vanished in the sun (Ibid. iii. 250). The wild ideas concerning Khalít and Malít (vol. v. 319) are again Guebre. “From the seed of Kayomars (the androgyne, like pre-Adamite man) sprang a tree shaped like two human beings and thence proceeded Meshia and Meshianah, first man and woman, progenitors of mankind;” who, though created for “Shídistán, Light-land,” were seduced by Ahriman. This “two-man-tree” is evidently the duality of Physis and Anti-physis, Nature and her counterpart, the battle between Mihr, Izad or Mithra with his Surush and Feristeh (Seraphs and Angels) against the Divs who are the children of Time led by the arch demon-Eshem. Thus when Hormuzd created the planets, the dog, and all useful animals and plants, Ahriman produced the comets, the wolf, noxious beasts and poisonous growths. The Hindus represent the same metaphysical idea by Bramhá the Creator and Visva — karma, the Anti-creator,23 miscalled by Europeans Vulcan: the former fashions a horse and a bull and the latter caricatures them with an ass and a buffalo — evolution turned topsy turvy. After seeing nine angels and obtaining an explanation of the Seven Stages of Earth which is supported by the Gav-i-Zamín, the energy, symbolised by a bull, implanted by the Creator in the mundane sphere, Bulukiya meets the four Archangels, to wit Gabriel who is the Persian Rawánbakhsh or Life-giver; Michael or Beshter, Raphael or Israfil alias Ardibihisht, and Azazel or Azrail who is Dumá or Mordad, the Death-giver; and the four are about to attack the Dragon, that is, the demons hostile to mankind who were driven behind Alborz–Kaf by Tahmuras the ancient Persian king. Bulukiya then recites an episode within an episode, the “Story of Jánsháh,” itself a Persian name and accompanied by two others (vol. v. 329), the mise-en-scène being Kabul and the King of Khorasan appearing in the proem. Janshah, the young Prince, no sooner comes to man’s estate than he loses himself out hunting and falls in with cannibals whose bodies divide longitudinally, each moiety going its own way: these are the Shikk (split ones) which the Arabs borrowed from the Persian Ním — chihrah or Half-faces. They escape to the Ape-island whose denizens are human in intelligence and speak articulately, as the universal East believes they can: these Simiads are at chronic war with the Ants, alluding to some obscure myth which gave rise to the gold-diggers of Herodotus and other classics, “emmets in size somewhat less than dogs but bigger than foxes.”24 The episode then falls into the banalities of Oriental folk-lore. Janshah, passing the Sabbation river and reaching the Jews’ city, is persuaded to be sewn up in a skin and is carried in the normal way to the top of the Mountain of Gems where he makes acquaintance with Shaykh Nasr, Lord of the Birds: he enters the usual forbidden room; falls in love with the pattern Swan-maiden; wins her by the popular process; loses her and recovers her through the Monk Yaghmús, whose name, like that of King Teghmús, is a burlesque of the Greek; and, finally, when she is killed by a shark, determines to mourn her loss till the end of his days. Having heard this story Bulukiya quits him; and, resolving to regain his natal land, falls in with Khizr; and the Green Prophet, who was Wazir to Kay Kobad (vith century B. C.) and was connected with Macedonian Alexander (!) enables him to win his wish. The rest of the tale calls for no comment.
Thirdly and lastly we have the histories, historical stories and the “Ana” of great men in which Easterns as well as Westerns delight: the gravest writers do not disdain to relieve the dullness of chronicles and annals by means of such discussions, humorous or pathetic, moral or grossly indecent. The dates must greatly vary: some of the anecdotes relating to the early Caliphs appear almost contemporary; others, like Ali of Cairo and Abu al- Shamat, may be as late as the Ottoman Conquest of Egypt (sixteenth century). All are distinctly Sunnite and show fierce animus against the Shi’ah heretics, suggesting that they were written after the destruction of the Fatimite dynasty (twelfth century) by Salah al-Din (Saladin the Kurd) one of the latest historical personages and the last king named in The Nights. 25 These anecdotes are so often connected with what a learned Frenchman terms the “regne féerique de Haroun er-Réschid,”26 that the Great Caliph becomes the hero of this portion of The Nights. Aaron the Orthodox was the central figure of the most splendid empire the world had seen, the Viceregent of Allah combining the powers of Cæsar and Pope, and wielding them right worthily according to the general voice of historians. To quote a few: Ali bin Talib al-Khorásáni described him, in A.D. 934, a century and-a-half after his death when flattery would be tongue-tied, as, “one devoted to war and pilgrimage, whose bounty embraced the folk at large.” Sa’adi (ob. A.D. 1291) tells a tale highly favourable to him in the “Gulistan” (lib. i. 36). Fakhr al-Din27 (xivth century) lauds his merits, eloquence, science and generosity; and Al–Siyuti (nat. A.D. 1445) asserts “He was one of the most distinguished of Caliphs and the most illustrious of the Princes of the Earth” (p. 290). The Shaykh al-Nafzáwi28 (sixteenth century) in his Rauz al-Átir fí Nazáh al-Khátir = Scented Garden-site for Heart-delight, calls Harun (chapt. vii.) the “Master of munificence and bounty, the best of the generous.” And even the latest writers have not ceased to praise him. Says Alí Azíz Efendi the Cretan, in the Story of Jewád29 (p. 81), “Harun was the most bounteous, illustrious and upright of the Abbaside Caliphs.”
The fifth Abbaside was fair and handsome, of noble and majestic presence, a sportsman and an athlete who delighted in polo and archery. He showed sound sense and true wisdom in his speech to the grammarian-poet Al–Asma’î, who had undertaken to teach him:— “Ne m’enseignez jamais en public, et ne vous empressez pas trop de me donner des avis en particulier. Attendez ordinairement que je vous interroge, et contentez vous de me donner une response précise à ce que je vous demanderai, sans y rien ajouter de superflu. Gardez vous surtout de vouloir me préoccuper pour vous attirer ma creance, et pour vous donner de l’autorité. Ne vous etendez jamais trop en long sur les histoires et les traditions que vous me raconterez, si je ne vous en donne la permission. Lorsque vous verrai que je m’eloignerai de l’équité dans mes jugements, ramenez-moi avec douceur, sans user de paroles fâcheuses ni de réprimandes. Enseignez-moi principalement les choses qui sont les plus necessaires pour les dis cours que je dois faire en public, dans les mosquées et ailleurs; et ne parlez point en termes obscurs, ou mystérieux, ni avec des paroles trop recherchées.’’30
He became well read in science and letters, especially history and tradition, for “his understanding was as the understanding of the learned;” and, like all educated Arabs of his day, he was a connoisseur of poetry which at times he improvised with success. 31 He made the pilgrimage every alternate year and sometimes on foot, while “his military expeditions almost equalled his pilgrimages.” Day after day during his Caliphate he prayed a hundred “bows,” never neglecting them, save for some especial reason, till his death; and he used to give from his privy purse alms to the extent of a hundred dirhams per diem. He delighted in panegyry and liberally rewarded its experts, one of whom, Abd al-Sammák the Preacher, fairly said of him, “Thy humility in thy greatness is nobler than thy greatness.”“No Caliph,” says Al–Niftawayh, “had been so profusely liberal to poets, lawyers and divines, although as the years advanced he wept over his extravagance amongst other sins.” There was vigorous manliness in his answer to the Grecian Emperor who had sent him an insulting missive:—“In the name of Allah! From the Commander of the Faithful Harun al-Rashid, to Nicephorus the Roman dog. I have read thy writ, O son of a miscreant mother! Thou shalt not hear, thou shalt see my reply.” Nor did he cease to make the Byzantine feel the weight of his arm till he “nakh’d”32 his camel in the imperial Court-yard; and this was only one instance of his indomitable energy and hatred of the Infidel. Yet, if the West is to be believed, he forgot his fanaticism in his diplomatic dealings and courteous intercourse with Carolus Magnus.33 Finally, his civilised and well regulated rule contrasted as strongly with the barbarity and turbulence of occidental Christendom, as the splendid Court and the luxurious life of Baghdad and its carpets and hangings devanced the quasi-savagery of London and Paris whose palatial halls were spread with rushes.
The great Caliph ruled twenty-three years and a few months (A.H. 170–193 = A.D. 786–808); and, as his youth was chequered and his reign was glorious, so was his end obscure.34 After a vision foreshadowing his death, 35 which happened, as becomes a good Moslem, during a military expedition to Khorasan, he ordered his grave to be dug and himself to be carried to it in a covered litter: when sighting the fosse he exclaimed, “O son of man thou art come to this!” Then he commanded himself to be set down and a perfection of the Koran to be made over him in the litter on the edge of the grave. He was buried (æt. forty-five) at Sanábád, a village near Tús.
Aaron the Orthodox appears in The Nights as a headstrong and violent autocrat, a right royal figure according to the Moslem ideas of his day. But his career shows that he was not more tyrannical or more sanguinary than the normal despot of the East, or the contemporary Kings of the West: in most points, indeed, he was far superior to the historic misrulers who have afflicted the world from Spain to furthest China. But a single great crime, a tragedy whose details are almost incredibly horrible, marks his reign with the stain of infamy, with a blot of blood never to be washed away. This tale, “full of the waters of the eye,” as Firdausi sings, is the massacre of the Barmecides; a story which has often been told and which cannot here be passed over in silence. The ancient and noble Iranian house, belonging to the “Ebná” or Arabised Persians, had long served the Ommiades till, early in our eighth century, Khálid bin Bermek,36 the chief, entered the service of the first Abbaside and became Wazir and Intendant of Finance to Al–Saffah. The most remarkable and distinguished of the family, he was in office when Al–Mansur transferred the capital from Damascus, the headquarters of the hated Ommiades, to Baghdad, built ad hoc. After securing the highest character in history by his personal gifts and public services, he was succeeded by his son and heir Yáhyá (John), a statesman famed from early youth for prudence and profound intelligence, liberality and nobility of soul.37 He was charged by the Caliph Al–Mahdi with the education of his son Harun, hence the latter was accustomed to call him father; and, until the assassination of the fantastic tyrant Al-Hádi, who proposed to make his own child Caliph, he had no little difficulty in preserving the youth from death in prison. The Orthodox, once seated firmly on the throne, appointed Yáhyá his Grand Wazir. This great administrator had four sons, Al–Fazl, Ja’afar, Mohammed, and Musa,38 in whose time the house of Bermek rose to that height from which decline and fall are, in the East, well nigh certain and immediate. Al–Fazl was a foster-brother of Harun, an exchange of suckling infants having taken place between the two mothers for the usual object, a tightening of the ties of intimacy: he was a man of exceptional mind, but he lacked the charm of temper and manner which characterised Ja’afar.
The poets and rhetoricians have been profuse in their praises of the cadet who appears in The Nights as an adviser of calm sound sense, an intercessor and a peace-maker, and even more remarkable than the rest of his family for an almost incredible magnanimity and generosity — une générosité effrayante. Mohammed was famed for exalted views and nobility of sentiment and Musa for bravery and energy: of both it was justly said, “They did good and harmed not.”39
For ten years (not including an interval of seven) from the time of Al–Rashid’s accession (A.D. 786) to the date of their fall, (A.D. 803), Yahya and his sons, Al–Fazl and Ja’afar, were virtually rulers of the great heterogeneous empire, which extended from Mauritania to Tartary, and they did notable service in arresting its disruption. Their downfall came sudden and terrible like “a thunderbolt from the blue.” As the Caliph and Ja’afar were halting in Al-‘Umr (the convent) near Anbár-town on the Euphrates, after a convivial evening spent in different pavilions, Harun during the dead of the night called up his page Yásir al-Rikhlah40 and bade him bring Ja’afar’s head. The messenger found Ja’afar still carousing with the blind poet Abú Zakkár and the Christian physician Gabriel ibn Bakhtiashú, and was persuaded to return to the Caliph and report his death; the Wazir adding, “An he express regret I shall owe thee my life; and, if not, whatso Allah will be done.” Ja’afar followed to listen and heard only the Caliph exclaim “O sucker of thy mother’s clitoris, if thou answer me another word, I will send thee before him!” whereupon he at once bandaged his own eyes and received the fatal blow. Al–Asma’í, who was summoned to the presence shortly after, recounts that when the head was brought to Harun he gazed at it, and summoning two witnesses commanded them to decapitate Yasir, crying, “I cannot bear to look upon the slayer of Ja’afar!” His vengeance did not cease with the death: he ordered the head to be gibbetted at one end and the trunk at the other abutment of the Tigris bridge where the corpses of the vilest malefactors used to be exposed; and, some months afterwards, he insulted the remains by having them burned — the last and worst indignity which can be offered to a Moslem. There are indeed pity and terror in the difference between two such items in the Treasury-accounts as these: “Four hundred thousand dinars (£200,000) to a robe of honour for the Wazir Ja’afar bin Yahya;” and, “Ten kírát, (5 shill.) to naphtha and reeds for burning the body of Ja’afar the Barmecide.”
Meanwhile Yahya and Al–Fazl, seized by the Caliph Harun’s command at Baghdad, were significantly cast into the prison “Habs al-Zanádikah”— of the Guebres — and their immense wealth which, some opine, hastened their downfall, was confiscated. According to the historian, Al–Tabari, who, however, is not supported by all the annalists, the whole Barmecide family, men, women, and children, numbering over a thousand, were slaughtered with only three exceptions; Yahya, his brother Mohammed, and his son Al-Fazl. The Caliph’s foster-father, who lived to the age of seventy-four, was allowed to die in jail (A.H. 805) after two years’ imprisonment at Rukkah. Al–Fazl, after having been tortured with two hundred blows in order to make him produce concealed property, survived his father three years and died in Nov. A.H. 808, some four months before his terrible foster-brother. A pathetic tale is told of the son warming water for the old man’s use by pressing the copper ewer to his stomach.
The motives of this terrible massacre are variously recounted, but no sufficient explanation has yet been, or possibly ever will be, given. The popular idea is embodied in The Nights. 41 Harun, wishing Ja’afar to be his companion even in the Harem, had wedded him, pro formâ, to his eldest sister Abbásah, “the loveliest woman of her day,” and brilliant in mind as in body; but he had expressly said “I will marry thee to her, that it may be lawful for thee to look upon her but thou shalt not touch her.” Ja’afar bound himself by a solemn oath; but his mother Attábah was mad enough to deceive him in his cups and the result was a boy (Ibn Khallikan) or, according to others, twins. The issue was sent under the charge of a confidential eunuch and a slave-girl to Meccah for concealment; but the secret was divulged to Zubaydah who had her own reasons for hating husband and wife and cherished an especial grievance against Yahya.42 Thence it soon found its way to head-quarters. Harun’s treatment of Abbásah supports the general conviction: according to the most credible accounts she and her child were buried alive in a pit under the floor of her apartment.
But, possibly, Ja’afar’s perjury was only “the last straw.” Already Al–Fazl bin Rabî‘a, the deadliest enemy of the Barmecides, had been entrusted (A.D. 786) with the Wazirate which he kept seven years. Ja’afar had also acted generously but imprudently in abetting the escape of Yahya bin Abdillah, Sayyid and Alide, for whom the Caliph had commanded confinement in a close dark dungeon: when charged with disobedience the Wazir had made full confession and Harun had (they say) exclaimed, “Thou hast done well!” but was heard to mutter, “Allah slay me an I slay thee not.”43 The great house seems at times to have abused its powers by being too peremptory with Harun and Zubaydah, especially in money matters;44 and its very greatness would have created for it many and powerful enemies and detractors who plied the Caliph with anonymous verse and prose. Nor was it forgotten that, before the spread of Al–Islam, they had presided over the Naubehár or Pyræthrum of Balkh; and Harun is said to have remarked anent Yahya, “The zeal for magianism, rooted in his heart, induces him to save all the monuments connected with his faith.”45 Hence the charge that they were “Zanádakah,” a term properly applied to those who study the Zend scripture, but popularly meaning Mundanists, Positivists, Reprobates, Atheists; and it may be noted that, immediately after al-Rashid’s death, violent religious troubles broke out in Baghdad. Ibn Khallikan46 quotes Sa’id ibn Salim, a well-known grammarian and traditionist who philosophically remarked, “Of a truth the Barmecides did nothing to deserve Al-Rashid’s severity, but the day (of their power and prosperity) had been long and whatso endureth long waxeth longsome.” Fakhr al-Din says (p. 27), “On attribue encore leur ruine aux manières fières et orgueilleuses de Djafar (Ja’afar) et de Fadhl (Al-Fazl), manières que les rois ne sauroient supporter.” According to Ibn Badrún, the poet, when the Caliph’s sister ‘Olayyah47 asked him, “O my lord, I have not seen thee enjoy one happy day since putting Ja’afar to death: wherefore didst thou slay him?” he answered, “My dear life, an I thought that my shirt knew the reason I would rend it in pieces!” I therefore hold with Al Mas’udi,
“As regards the intimate cause (of the catastrophe) it is unknown and Allah is Omniscient.”
Aaron the Orthodox appears sincerely to have repented his enormous crime. From that date he never enjoyed refreshing sleep: he would have given his whole realm to recall Ja’afar to life; and, if any spoke slightingly of the Barmecides in his presence, he would exclaim, “God damn your fathers! Cease to blame them or fill the void they have left.” And he had ample reason to mourn the loss. After the extermination of the wise and enlightened family, the affairs of the Caliphate never prospered: Fazl bin Rabí‘a, though a man of intelligence and devoted to letters, proved a poor substitute for Yahya and Ja’afar; and the Caliph is reported to have applied to him the couplet:—
No sire to your sire,48 I bid you spare
Your calumnies or their place replace.
His unwise elevation of his two rival sons filled him with fear of poison, and, lastly, the violence and recklessness of the popular mourning for the Barmecides,49 whose echo has not yet died away, must have added poignancy to his tardy penitence. The crime still “sticks fiery off” from the rest of Harun’s career: it stands out in ghastly prominence as one of the most terrible tragedies recorded by history, and its horrible details make men write passionately on the subject to this our day.50
As of Harun so of Zubaydah it may be said that she was far superior in most things to contemporary royalties, and she was not worse at her worst than the normal despot-queen of the Morning-land. We must not take seriously the tales of her jealousy in The Nights, which mostly end in her selling off or burying alive her rivals; but, even were all true, she acted after the recognised fashion of her exalted sisterhood. The secret history of Cairo, during the last generation, tells of many a viceregal dame who committed all the crimes, without any of the virtues which characterised Harun’s cousin-spouse. And the difference between the manners of the Caliphate and the “respectability” of the nineteenth century may be measured by the Tale called “Al–Maamun and Zubaydah.”51 The lady, having won a game of forfeits from her husband, and being vexed with him for imposing unseemly conditions when he had been the winner, condemned him to lie with the foulest and filthiest kitchen-wench in the palace; and thus was begotten the Caliph who succeeded and destroyed her son.
Zubaydah was the grand-daughter of the second Abbaside Al–Mansur, by his son Ja’afar whom The Nights persistently term Al–Kasim: her name was Amat al-Azíz or Handmaid of the Almighty; her cognomen was Umm Ja’afar as her husband’s was Abú Ja’afar; and her popular name “Creamkin” derives from Zubdah,52 cream or fresh butter, on account of her plumpness and freshness. She was as majestic and munificent as her husband; and the hum of prayer was never hushed in her palace. Al–Mas’udi53 makes a historian say to the dangerous Caliph Al-Káhir, “The nobleness and generosity of this Princess, in serious matters as in her diversions, place her in the highest rank”; and he proceeds to give ample proof. Al–Siyuti relates how she once filled a poet’s mouth with jewels which he sold for twenty thousand dinars. Ibn Khallikan (i. 523) affirms of her, “Her charity was ample, her conduct virtuous, and the history of her pilgrimage to Meccah and of what she undertook to execute on the way is so well-known that it were useless to repeat it.” I have noted (Pilgrimage iii. 2) how the Darb al-Sharki or Eastern road from Meccah to Al–Medinah was due to the piety of Zubaydah who dug wells from Baghdad to the Prophet’s burial place and built not only cisterns and caravanserais, but even a wall to direct pilgrims over the shifting sands. She also supplied Meccah, which suffered severely from want of water, with the chief requisite for public hygiene by connecting it, through levelled hills and hewn rocks, with the Ayn al-Mushásh in the Arafat subrange; and the fine aqueduct, some ten miles long, was erected at a cost of 1,700,000 to 2,000,000 of gold pieces. 54 We cannot wonder that her name is still famous among the Badawin and the “Sons of the Holy Cities.” She died at Baghdad, after a protracted widowhood, in A.H. 216 and her tomb, which still exists, was long visited by the friends and dependents who mourned the loss of a devout and most liberal woman.
The reader will bear with me while I run through the tales and add a few remarks to the notices given in the notes: the glance must necessarily be brief, however extensive be the theme. The admirable introduction follows, in all the texts and Mss. known to me, the same main lines but differs greatly in minor details as will be seen by comparing Mr. Payne’s translation with Lane’s and mine. In the Tale of the Sage Dúbán appears the speaking head which is found in the Kamil, in Mirkhond and in the Kitáb al-Uyún: M. C. Barbier de Meynard (v. 503) traces it back to an abbreviated text of Al–Mas’udi. I would especially recommend to students The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad (i. 82), whose mighty orgie ends so innocently in general marriage. Lane (iii. 746) blames it “because it represents Arab ladies as acting like Arab courtesans”; but he must have known that during his day the indecent frolic was quite possible in some of the highest circles of his beloved Cairo. To judge by the style and changes of person, some of the most “archaic” expressions suggest the hand of the Ráwi or professional tale-teller; yet as they are in all the texts they cannot be omitted in a loyal translation. The following story of The Three Apples perfectly justifies my notes concerning which certain carpers complain. What Englishman would be jealous enough to kill his cousin-wife because a blackamoor in the streets boasted of her favours? But after reading what is annotated in vol. i. 6, and purposely placed there to give the key-note of the book, he will understand the reasonable nature of the suspicion; and I may add that the same cause has commended these “skunks of the human race” to debauched women in England.
The next tale, sometimes called “The Two Wazírs,” is notable for its regular and genuine drama-intrigue which, however, appears still more elaborate and perfected in other pieces. The richness of this Oriental plot-invention contrasts strongly with all European literatures except the Spaniard’s, whose taste for the theatre determined his direction, and the Italian, which in Boccaccio’s day had borrowed freely through Sicily from the East. And the remarkable deficiency lasted till the romantic movement dawned in France, when Victor Hugo and Alexander Dumas showed their marvellous powers of faultless fancy, boundless imagination and scenic luxuriance, “raising French Poetry from the dead and not mortally wounding French prose.’’55 The Two Wazirs is followed by the gem of the volume, The Adventure of the Hunchback-jester (i. 225), also containing an admirable surprise and a fine development of character, while its “wild but natural simplicity” and its humour are so abounding that it has echoed through the world to the farthest West. It gave to Addison the Story of Alnaschar56 and to Europe the term “Barmecide Feast,” from the “Tale of Shacabac” (vol. i. 343). The adventures of the corpse were known in Europe long before Galland as shown by three fabliaux in Barbazan. I have noticed that the Barber’s Tale of himself (i. 317) is historical and I may add that it is told in detail by Al–Mas’udi (chapt. cxiv).
Follows the tale of Núr al-Dín Alí, and what Galland miscalls “The Fair Persian,” a brightly written historiette with not a few touches of true humour. Noteworthy are the Slaver’s address (vol. ii. 15), the fine description of the Baghdad garden (vol. ii. 21–24), the drinking-party (vol. ii. 25), the Caliph’s frolic (vol. ii. 31–37) and the happy end of the hero’s misfortunes (vol. ii. 44) Its brightness is tempered by the gloomy tone of the tale which succeeds, and which has variants in the Bagh o Bahar, a Hindustani versionof the Persian “Tale of the Four Darwayshes;” and in the Turkish Kirk Vezir or “Book of the Forty Vezirs.” Its dismal péripéties are relieved only by the witty indecency of Eunuch Bukhayt and the admirable humour of Eunuch Kafur, whose “half lie” is known throughout the East. Here also the lover’s agonies are piled upon him for the purpose of unpiling at last: the Oriental tale-teller knows by experience that, as a rule, doleful endings “don’t pay.”
The next is the long romance of chivalry, “King Omar bin al-Nu’man” etc., which occupies an eighth of the whole repertory and the best part of two volumes. Mr. Lane omits it because “obscene and tedious,” showing the license with which he translated; and he was set right by a learned reviewer,57 who truly declared that “the omission of half-a-dozen passages out of four hundred pages would fit it for printing in any language58 and the charge of tediousness could hardly have been applied more unhappily.” The tale is interesting as a picture of mediæval Arab chivalry and has many other notable points; for instance, the lines (iii. 86) beginning “Allah holds the kingship!” are a lesson to the manichæanism of Christian Europe. It relates the doings of three royal generations and has all the characteristics of Eastern art: it is a phantasmagoria of Holy Places, palaces and Harems; convents, castles and caverns, here restful with gentle landscapes (ii. 240) and there bristling with furious battle-pictures (ii. 117, 221–8, 249) and tales of princely prowess and knightly derring-do. The characters stand out well. King Nu’man is an old lecher who deserves his death; the ancient Dame Zát al-Dawáhi merits her title Lady of Calamities (to her foes); Princess Abrizah appears as a charming Amazon, doomed to a miserable and pathetic end; Zau al-Makán is a wise and pious royalty; Nuzhat al-Zamán, though a longsome talker, is a model sister; the Wazir Dandán, a sage and sagacious counsellor, contrasts with the Chamberlain, an ambitious miscreant; Kánmakán is the typical Arab knight, gentle and brave:—
Now managing the mouthes of stubborne steedes Now practising the proof of warlike deedes;
And the kind-hearted, simple-minded Stoker serves as a foil to the villains, the kidnapping Badawi and Ghazbán the detestable negro. The fortunes of the family are interrupted by two episodes, both equally remarkable. Taj al-Mulúk59 is the model lover whom no difficulties or dangers can daunt. In Azíz and Azízah (ii. 291) we have the beau ideal of a loving woman: the writer’s object was to represent a “softy” who had the luck to win the love of a beautiful and clever cousin and the mad folly to break her heart. The poetical justice which he receives at the hands of women of quite another stamp leaves nothing to be desired. Finally the plot of “King Omar” is well worked out; and the gathering of all the actors upon the stage before the curtain drops may be improbable but it is highly artistic.
The long Crusading Romance is relieved by a sequence of sixteen fabliaux, partly historiettes of men and beasts and partly apologues proper — a subject already noticed. We have then (iii. 162) the saddening and dreary love-tale of Ali bin Bakkár, a Persian youth and the Caliph’s concubine Shams al-Nahár. Here the end is made doleful enough by the deaths of the “two martyrs,” who are killed off, like Romeo and Juliet,60 a lesson that the course of true Love is sometimes troubled and that men as well as women can die of the so-called “tender passion.” It is followed (iii. 212) by the long tale of Kamar al-Zamán, or Moon of the Age, the first of that name, the “Camaralzaman” whom Galland introduced into the best European society. Like “The Ebony Horse” it seems to have been derived from a common source with “Peter of Provence” and “Cleomades and Claremond”; and we can hardly wonder at its wide diffusion: the tale is brimful of life, change, movement, containing as much character and incident as would fill a modern three-volumer and the Supernatural pleasantly jostles the Natural; Dahnash the Jinn and Maymúnah daughter of Al–Dimiryát,61 a renowned King of the Jann, being as human in their jealousy about the virtue of their lovers as any children of Adam, and so their metamorphosis to fleas has all the effect of a surprise. The troupe is again drawn with a broad firm touch. Prince Charming, the hero, is weak and wilful, shifty and immoral, hasty and violent: his two spouses are rivals in abominations as his sons, Amjad and As’ad, are examples of a fraternal affection rarely found in half-brothers by sister-wives. There is at least one fine melodramatic situation (iii. 228); and marvellous feats of indecency, a practical joke which would occur only to the canopic mind (iii. 300–305), emphasise the recovery of her husband by that remarkable “blackguard,” the Lady Budúr. The interpolated tale of Ni’amah and Naomi (iv. I), a simple and pleasing narrative of youthful amours, contrasts well with the boiling passions of the incestuous and murderous Queens and serves as a pause before the grand denouement when the parted meet, the lost are found, the unwedded are wedded and all ends merrily as a xixth century novel.
The long tale of Alá al-Din, our old friend “Aladdin,” is wholly out of place in its present position (iv. 29): it is a counterpart of Ali Nûr al-Din and Miriam the Girdle-girl (vol. ix. i); and the mention of the Shahbandar or Harbour-master (iv. 29), the Kunsul or Consul (p. 84), the Kaptan (Capitano), the use of cannon at sea and the choice of Genoa city (p. 85) prove that it belongs to the xvth or xvith century and should accompanyKamar al-Zamàn II. and Ma’aruf at the end of The Nights. Despite the lutist Zubaydah being carried off by the Jinn, the Magic Couch, a modification of Solomon’s carpet, and the murder of the King who refused to islamize, it is evidently a European tale and I believe with Dr. Bacher that it is founded upon the legend of “Charlemagne’s” daughter Emma and his secretary Eginhardt, as has been noted in the counterpart (vol. ix. 1).
This quasi-historical fiction is followed hy a succession of fabliaux, novelle and historiettes which fill the rest of the vol. iv. and the whole of vol. v. till we reach the terminal story, The Queen of the Serpents (vol. v. pp. 304–329). It appears to me that most of them are historical and could easily be traced. Not a few are in Al–Mas’udi; for instance the grim Tale of Hatim of Tayy (vol. iv. 94) is given bodily in “Meads of Gold” (iii. 327); and the two adventures of Ibrahim al-Mahdi with the barber-surgeon (vol. iv. 103) and the Merchant’s sister (vol. iv. 176) are in his pages (vol. vii. 68 and 18). The City of Lubtayt (vol. iv. 99) embodies the legend of Don Rodrigo, last of the Goths, and may have reached the ears of Washington Irving; Many-columned Iram (vol. iv. 113) is held by all Moslems to be factual and sundry writers have recorded the tricks played by Al-Maamun with the Pyramids of Jizah which still show his handiwork.62 The germ of Isaac of Mosul (vol. iv. 119) is found in Al–Mas’udi who (vii. 65) names “Burán” the poetess (Ibn Khall. i. 268); and Harun al-Rashid and the Slave-girl (vol. iv. 153) is told by a host of writers. Ali the Persian is a rollicking tale of fun from some Iranian jest-book: Abu Mohammed hight Lazybones belongs to the cycle of “Sindbad the Seaman,” with a touch of Whittington and his Cat; and Zumurrud (“Smaragdine”) in Ali Shar (vol. iv. 187) shows at her sale the impudence of Miriam the Girdle-girl and in bed the fescennine device of the Lady Budur. The “Ruined Man who became Rich,” etc. (vol. iv. 289) is historical and Al–Mas’udi (vii. 281) relates the coquetry of Mahbúbah the concubine (vol. iv. 291): the historian also quotes four couplets, two identical with Nos. 1 and 2 in The Nights (vol. iv. 292) and adding:—
Then see the slave who lords it o’er her lord
In lover privacy and public site:
Behold these eyes that one like Ja’afar saw:
Allah on Ja’afar reign boons infinite!
Uns al-Wujúd (vol. v. 32) is a love-tale which has been translated into a host of Eastern languages; and The Lovers of the Banu Ozrah belong to Al–Mas’udi’s “Martyrs of Love” (vii. 355), with the ozrite “Ozrite love” of Ibn Khallikan (iv. 537). “Harun and the Three Poets” (vol. v. 77) has given to Cairo a proverb which Burckhardt (No. 561) renders “The day obliterates the word or promise of the Night,” for
The promise of night is effaced by day.
It suggests Congreve’s Doris:—
For who o’er night obtain’d her grace, She can next day disown, etc.
“Harun and the three Slave-girls” (vol. v. 81) smacks of Gargantua (lib. i. c. 11): “It belongs to me, said one: ’Tis mine, said another”; and so forth. The Simpleton and the Sharper (vol. v. 83) like the Foolish Dominie (vol. v. 118) is an old Joe Miller in Hindu as well as Moslem folk-lore. “Kisra Anushirwán” (vol. v. 87) is “The King, the Owl and the Villages of Al- Mas’udi” (iii. 171), who also notices the Persian monarch’s four seals of office (ii. 204); and “Masrur the Eunuch and Ibn Al-Káribi” (vol. v. 109) is from the same source as Ibn al-Magházili the Reciter and a Eunuch belonging to the Caliph Al–Mu’tazad (vol. viii. 161). In the Tale of Tawaddud (vol. v. 139) we have the fullest development of the disputations and displays of learning then so common in Europe, teste the “Admirable Crichton”; and these were affected not only by Eastern tale-tellers but even by sober historians. To us it is much like “padding” when Nuzhat al-Zamán (vol. ii. 156 etc.) fags her hapless hearers with a discourse covering sixteen mortal pages; when the Wazir Dandan (vol. ii. 195, etc.) reports at length the cold speeches of the five high-bosomed maids and the Lady of Calamities and when Wird Khan, in presence of his papa (Nights cmxiv-xvi.) discharges his patristic exercitations and heterogeneous knowledge. Yet Al–Mas’udi also relates, at dreary extension (vol. vi. 369) the disputation of the twelve sages in presence of Barmecide Yahya upon the origin, the essence, the accidents and the omnes res of Love; and in another place (vii. 181) shows Honayn, author of the Book of Natural Questions, undergoing a long examination before the Caliph Al-Wásik (Vathek) and describing, amongst other things, the human teeth. See also the dialogue or catechism of Al–Hajjáj and Ibn Al–Kirríya in Ibn Khallikan (vol. i. 238–240).
These disjecta membra of tales and annals are pleasantly relieved by the seven voyages of Sindbad the Seaman (vol. vi. 1–83). The “Arabian Odyssey” may, like its Greek brother, descend from a noble family, the “Shipwrecked Mariner” a Coptic travel-tale of the twelfth dynasty (B. C. 3500) preserved on a papyrus at St. Petersburg. In its actual condition “Sindbad,” is a fanciful compilation, like De Foe’s “Captain Singleton,” borrowed from travellers’ tales of an immense variety and extracts from Al- Idrísi, Al–Kazwíni and Ibn al-Wardi. Here we find the Polyphemus, the Pygmies and the cranes of Homer and Herodotus; the escape of Aristomenes; the Plinian monsters well known in Persia; the magnetic mountain of Saint Brennan (Brandanus); the aeronautics of “Duke Ernest of Bavaria’’63 and sundry cuttings from Moslem writers dating between our ninth and fourteenth centuries.64 The “Shayhk of the Seaboard” appears in the Persian romance of Kámaraupa translated by Francklin, all the particulars absolutely corresponding. The “Odyssey” is valuable because it shows how far Eastward the mediaeval Arab had extended: already in The Ignorance he had reached China and had formed a centre of trade at Canton. But the higher merit of the cento is to produce one of the most charming books of travel ever written, like Robinson Crusoe the delight of children and the admiration of all ages.
The hearty life and realism of Sindbad are made to stand out in strong relief by the deep melancholy which pervades “The City of Brass” (vol. vi. 83), a dreadful book for a dreary day. It is curious to compare the doleful verses (pp. 103, 105) with those spoken to Caliph Al–Mutawakkil by Abu al-Hasan Ali (A1-Mas’udi, vii. 246). We then enter upon the venerable Sindibad-nameh, the Malice of Women (vol. vi. 122), of which, according to the Kitab al-Fihrist (vol. i. 305), there were two editions, a Sinzibád al-Kabír and a Sinzibád al-Saghír, the latter being probably an epitome of the former. This bundle of legends, I have shown, was incorporated with the Nights as an editor’s addition; and as an independent work it has made the round of the world.
Space forbids any detailed notice of this choice collection of anecdotes for which a volume would be required. I may, however, note that the “Wife’s device” (vol. vi. 152) has its analogues in the Kathá (chapt. xiii.) in the Gesta Romanorum (No. xxviii.) and in Boccaccio (Day iii. 6 and Day vi. 8), modified by La Fontaine to Richard Minutolo (Contes lib. i. tale 2): it is quoted almost in the words of The Nights by the Shaykh al-Nafzáwi (p. 207). That most witty and indecent tale The Three Wishes (vol. vi. 180) has forced its way disguised as a babe into our nurseries. Another form of it is found in the Arab proverb “More luckless than Basús” (Kamus), a fair Israelite who persuaded her husband, also a Jew, to wish that she might become the loveliest of women. Jehovah granted it, spitefully as Jupiter; the consequence was that her contumacious treatment of her mate made him pray that the beauty might be turned into a bitch; and the third wish restored her to her original state.
The Story of Júdar (vol. vi. 207) is Egyptian, to judge from its local knowledge (pp. 217 and 254) together with its ignorance of Marocco (p. 223). It shows a contrast, in which Arabs delight, of an almost angelical goodness and forgiveness with a well-nigh diabolical malignity, and we find the same extremes in Abú Sír the noble-minded Barber and the hideously inhuman Abú Kír. The excursion to Mauritania is artfully managed and gives a novelty to the mise-en-scène. Gharíb and Ajíb (vi. 207, vii. 91) belongs to the cycle of Antar and King Omar bin Nu’man: its exaggerations make it a fine type of Oriental Chauvinism, pitting the superhuman virtues, valour, nobility and success of all that is Moslem, against the scum of the earth which is non-Moslem. Like the exploits of Friar John of the Chopping-knives (Rabelais i. c. 27) it suggests ridicule cast on impossible battles and tales of giants, paynims and paladins. The long romance is followed by thirteen historiettes all apparently historical: compare “Hind, daughter of Al–Nu’man” (vol. viii. 7–145) and “Isaac of Mosul and the Devil” (vol. vii. 136–139) with Al Mas’udi v. 365 and vi. 340. They end in two long detective-tales like those which M. Gaboriau has popularised, the Rogueries of Dalilah and the Adventures of Mercury Ali, based upon the principle, “One thief wots another.” The former, who has appeared before (vol. ii. 329), seems to have been a noted character: Al–Mas’udi says (viii. 175) “in a word this Shaykh (Al-‘Ukáb) outrivalled in his rogueries and the ingenuities of his wiles Dállah (Dalilah?) the Crafty and other tricksters and coney-catchers, ancient and modern.”
The Tale of Ardashir (vol. vii. 209–264) lacks originality: we are now entering upon a series of pictures which are replicas of those preceding. This is not the case with that charming Undine, Julnár the Sea-born (vol. vii. 264–308) which, like Abdullah of the Land and Abdullah of the Sea (vol. ix. Night cmxl.), describes the vie intime of mermen and merwomen. Somewhat resembling Swift’s inimitable creations, the Houyhnhnms for instance, they prove, amongst other things, that those who dwell in a denser element can justly blame and severely criticise the contradictory and unreasonable prejudices and predilections of mankind. Sayf al-Mulúk (vol. viii. Night dcclviii.), the romantic tale of two lovers, shows by its introduction that it was originally an independent work and it is known to have existed in Persia during the eleventh century: this novella has found its way into every Moslem language of the East even into Sindi, which calls the hero “Sayfal.” Here we again meet the Old Man of the Sea or rather the Shaykh of the Seaboard and make acquaintance with a Jinn whose soul is outside his body: thus he resembles Hermotimos of Klazamunae in Apollonius, whose spirit left his mortal frame à discretion. The author, philanthropically remarking (vol. viii. 4) “Knowest thou not that a single mortal is better, in Allah’s sight than a thousand Jinn?” brings the wooing to a happy end which leaves a pleasant savour upon the mental palate.
Hasan of Bassorah (vol. viii. 7–145) is a Master Shoetie on a large scale like Sindbad, but his voyages and travels extend into the supernatural and fantastic rather than the natural world. Though long the tale is by no means wearisome and the characters are drawn with a fine firm hand. The hero with his hen-like persistency of purpose, his weeping, fainting and versifying is interesting enough and proves that “Love can find out the way.” The charming adopted sister, the model of what the feminine friend should be; the silly little wife who never knows that she is happy till she loses happiness; the violent and hard-hearted queen with all the cruelty of a good woman, and the manners and customs of Amazon land are outlined with a life-like vivacity. Khalífah the next tale (vol. viii. 147–184) is valuable as a study of Eastern life, showing how the fisherman emerges from the squalor of his surroundings and becomes one of the Caliph’s favourite cup-companions. Ali Nur al-Din (vol. viii. 264) and King Jali’ad (vol. ix., Night dcccxciv) have been noticed elsewhere and there is little to say of the concluding stories which bear the evident impress of a more modern date.
Dr. Johnson thus sums up his notice of The Tempest. “Whatever might have been the intention of their author, these tales are made instrumental to the production of many characters, diversified with boundless invention, and preserved with profound skill in nature; extensive knowledge of opinions, and accurate observation of life. Here are exhibited princes, courtiers and sailors, all speaking in their real characters. There is the agency of airy spirits and of earthy goblin, the operations of magic, the tumults of a storm, the adventures of a desert island, the native effusion of untaught affection, the punishment of guilt, and the final happiness of those for whom our passions and reason are equally interested.”
We can fairly say this much and far more for our Tales. Viewed as a tout ensemble in full and complete form, they are a drama of Eastern life, and a Dance of Death made sublime by faith and the highest emotions, by the certainty of expiation and the fulness of atoning equity, where virtue is victorious, vice is vanquished and the ways of Allah are justified to man. They are a panorama which remains ken-speckle upon the mental retina. They form a phantasmagoria in which archangels and angels, devils and goblins, men of air, of fire, of water, naturally mingle with men of earth; where flying horses and talking fishes are utterly realistic: where King and Prince meet fisherman and pauper, lamia and cannibal; where citizen jostles Badawi, eunuch meets knight; the Kazi hob-nobs with the thief; the pure and pious sit down to the same tray with the bawd and the pimp; where the professional religionist, the learned Koranist and the strictest moralist consort with the wicked magician, the scoffer and the debauchee- poet like Abu Nowas; where the courtier jests with the boor and where the sweep is bedded with the noble lady. And the characters are “finished and quickened by a few touches swift and sure as the glance of sunbeams.” The work is a kaleidoscope where everything falls into picture; gorgeous palaces and pavilions; grisly underground caves and deadlywolds; gardens fairer than those of the Hesperid; seas dashing with clashing billows upon enchanted mountains; valleys of the Shadow of Death; air-voyages and promenades in the abysses of ocean; the duello, the battle and the siege; the wooing of maidens and the marriage-rite. All the splendour and squalor, the beauty and baseness, the glamour and grotesqueness, the magic and the mournfulness, the bravery and the baseness of Oriental life are here: its pictures of the three great Arab passions, love, war and fancy, entitle it to be called “Blood, Musk and Hashish.”65 And still more, the genius of the story-teller quickens the dry bones of history, and by adding Fiction to Pact revives the dead past: the Caliphs and the Caliphate return to Baghdad and Cairo, whilst Asmodeus kindly removes the terrace-roof of every tenement and allows our curious glances to take in the whole interior. This is perhaps the best proof of their power. Finally, the picture-gallery opens with a series of weird and striking adventures and shows as a tail-piece, an idyllic scene of love and wedlock in halls before reeking with lust and blood.
I have noticed in my Foreword that the two main characteristics of The Nights are Pathos and Humour, alternating with highly artistic contrast, and carefully calculated to provoke tears and smiles in the coffee-house audience which paid for them. The sentimental portion mostly breathes a tender passion and a simple sadness: such are the Badawi’s dying farewell (vol i. 75); the lady’s broken heart on account of her lover’s hand being cut off (vol. i. 277); the Wazir’s death, the mourner’s song and the “tongue of the case” (vol. ii. 10); the murder of Princess Abrízah with the babe sucking its dead mother’s breast (vol. ii. 128); and, generally, the last moments of good Moslems (e. g. vol. 167), which are described with inimitable terseness and naïveté. The sad and the gay mingle in the character of the good Hammam-stoker who becomes Roi Crotte and the melancholy deepens in the Tale of the Mad Lover (vol. v. 138); the Blacksmith who could handle fire without hurt (vol. v. 271); the Devotee Prince (vol. v. iii) and the whole Tale of Azízah (vol. ii. 298), whose angelic love is set off by the sensuality and selfishness of her more fortunate rivals. A new note of absolutely tragic dignity seems to be struck in the Sweep and the Noble Lady (vol. iv. 125), showing the piquancy of sentiment which can be evolved from the common and the unclean. The pretty conceit of the Lute (vol. v. 244) is afterwards carried out in the Song (vol. viii. 281), which is a masterpiece of originality66 and (in the Arabic) of exquisite tenderness and poetic melancholy, the wail over the past and the vain longing for reunion. And the very depths of melancholy, of majestic pathos and of true sublimity are reached in Many-columned Iram (vol. iv. 113) and the City of Brass (vol. vi. 83): the metrical part of the latter shows a luxury of woe; it is one long wail of despair which echoes long and loud in the hearer’s heart.
In my Foreword I have compared the humorous vein of the comic tales with our northern “wut,” chiefly for the dryness and slyness which pervade it. But it differs in degree as much as the pathos varies. The staple article is Cairene “chaff,” a peculiar banter possibly inherited from their pagan forefathers: instances of this are found in the Cock and Dog (vol. i. 22), the Eunuch’s address to the Cook (vol. i. 244), the Wazir’s exclamation, “Too little pepper!” (vol. i. 246), the self-communing of Judar (vol. vi. 219), the Hashish-eater in Ali Shár (vol. iv. 213), the scene between the brother-Wazirs (vol. i. 197), the treatment of the Gobbo (vol. i. 221, 228), the Water of Zemzem (vol. i. 284), and the Eunuchs Bukhayt and Kafur67 (vol. ii. 49, 51). At times it becomes a masterpiece of fun, of rollicking Rabelaisian humour underlaid by the caustic mother-wit of Sancho Panza, as in the orgie of the Ladies of Baghdad (vol. i. 92, 93); the Holy Ointment applied to the beard of Luka the Knight — “unxerunt regem Salomonem” (vol. ii. 222); and Ja’afar and the Old Badawi (vol. v. 98), with its reminiscence of “chaffy” King Amasis. This reaches its acme in the description of ugly old age (vol. v. 3); in The Three Wishes, the wickedest of satires on the alter sexus (vi. 180); in Ali the Persian (vol. iv. 139); in the Lady and her Five Suitors (vol. vi. 172), which corresponds and contrasts with the dully told Story of Upakosa and her Four Lovers of the Kathá (p. 17); and in The Man of Al-Yaman (vol. iv. 245) where we find the true Falstaffian touch. But there is sterling wit, sweet and bright, expressed without any artifice of words, in the immortal Barber’s tales of his brothers, especially the second, the fifth and the sixth (vol. i. 324, 325 and 343). Finally, wherever the honest and independent old debauchee Abu Nowas makes his appearance the fun becomes fescennine and milesian.
1 The number of fables and anecdotes varies in the different texts, but may be assumed to be upwards of four hundred, about half of which were translated by Lane.
2 I have noticed these points more fully in the beginning of chapt. iii. “The Book of the Sword.”
3 A notable instance of Roman superficiality, incuriousness and ignorance. Every old Egyptian city had its idols (images of metal, stone or wood), in which the Deity became incarnate as in the Catholic host; besides its own symbolic animal used as a Kiblah or prayer-direction (Jerusalem or Meccah), the visible means of fixing and concentrating the thoughts of the vulgar, like the crystal of the hypnotist or the disk of the electro-biologist. And goddess Diana was in no way better than goddess Pasht. For the true view of idolatry see Koran xxxix. 4. I am deeply grateful to Mr. P. le Page Renouf (Soc. of Biblic. Archæology, April 6, 1886) for identifying the Manibogh, Michabo or Great Hare of the American indigenes with Osiris Unnefer (“Hare God”). These are the lines upon which investigation should run. And of late years there is a notable improvement of tone in treating of symbolism or idolatry: the Lingam and the Yoni are now described as “mystical representations, and perhaps the best possible impersonal representatives of the abstract expressions paternity and maternity” (Prof. Monier Williams in “Folk-lore Record” vol. iii. part i. p. 118).
4 See Jotham’s fable of the Trees and King Bramble (Judges lxi. 8) and Nathan’s parable of the Poor Man and his little ewe Lamb (2 Sam. ix. 1).
5 Herodotus (ii. c. 134) notes that “Æsop the fable-writer ( ) was one of her (Rhodopis) fellow slaves”. Aristophanes (Vespæ, 1446) refers to his murder by the Delphians and his fable beginning, “Once upon a time there was a fight;” while the Scholiast finds an allusion to The Serpent and the Crab in Pax 1084; and others in Vespæ 1401, and Aves 651.
6 There are three distinct Lokmans who are carefully confounded in Sale (Koran chapt. xxxi.) and in Smith’s Dict. of Biography etc. art. Æsopus. The first or eldest Lokman, entitled Al–Hakim (the Sage) and the hero of the Koranic chapter which bears his name, was son of Bá’úrá of the Children of Azar, sister’s son of Job or son of Job’s maternal aunt; he witnessed David’s miracles of mail-making and when the tribe of ‘Ád was destroyed, he became King of the country. The second, also called the Sage, was a slave, an Abyssinian negro, sold to the Israelites during the reign of David or Solomon, synchronous with the Persian Kay Káús and Kay Khusrau, also Pythagoras the Greek (!) His physique is alluded to in the saying, “Thou resemblest Lokman (in black ugliness) but not in wisdom” (Ibn Khallikan i. 145). This negro or negroid, after a godly and edifying life, left a volume of “Amsál,” proverbs and exempla (not fables or apologues); and Easterns still say, “One should not pretend to teach Lokmán”— in Persian, “Hikmat ba Lokman ámokhtan.” Three of his apothegms dwell in the public memory: “The heart and the tongue are the best and worst parts of the human body.” “I learned wisdom from the blind who make sure of things by touching them” (as did St. Thomas); and when he ate the colocynth offered by his owner, “I have received from thee so many a sweet that ‘twould be surprising if I refused this one bitter.” He was buried (says the Tárikh Muntakhab) at Ramlah in Judæa, with the seventy Prophets stoned in one day by the Jews. The youngest Lokman “of the vultures” was a prince of the tribe of Ad who lived 3,500 years, the age of seven vultures (Tabari). He could dig a well with his nails; hence the saying, “Stronger than Lokman” (A. P. i. 701); and he loved the arrow-game, hence, “More gambling than Lokman” (ibid. ii. 938). “More voracious than Lokman” (ibid i. 134) alludes to his eating one camel for breakfast and another for supper. His wife Barákish also appears in proverb, e.g. “Camel us and camel thyself” (ibid. i. 295) i.e. give us camel flesh to eat, said when her son by a former husband brought her a fine joint which she and her husband relished. Also, “Barákish hath sinned against her kin” (ibid. ii. 89). More of this in Chenery’s Al–Hariri p. 422; but the three Lokmans are there reduced to two.
7 I have noticed them in vol. ii. 47–49. “To the Gold Coast for Gold.”
8 I can hardly accept the dictum that the Katha Sarit Sagara, of which more presently, is the “earliest representation of the first collection.”
9 The Pehlevi version of the days of King Anushirwan (A.D. 531–72) became the Humáyun-námeh (“August Book”) turned into Persian for Bahram Shah the Ghaznavite: the Hitopadesa (“Friendship-boon”) of Prakrit, avowedly compiled from the “Panchatantra,” became the Hindu Panchopakhyan, the Hindostani Akhlák-i-Hindi (“Moralities of Ind”) and in Persia and Turkey the Anvar-i-Suhayli (“Lights of Canopus”). Arabic, Hebrew and Syriac writers entitle their version Kalilah wa Damnah, or Kalilaj wa Damnaj, from the name of the two jackal-heroes, and Europe knows the recueil as the Fables of Pilpay or Bidpay (Bidyá-pati, Lord of learning?) a learned Brahman reported to have been Premier at the Court of the Indian King Dabishlím.
10 Diet. Philosoph. S. V. Apocrypha.
11 The older Arab writers, I repeat, do not ascribe fables or beast-apologues to Lokman; they record only “dictes” and proverbial sayings.
12 Professor Taylor Lewis: Preface to Pilpay.
13 In the Katha Sarit Sagara the beast-apologues are more numerous, but they can be reduced to two great nuclei; the first in chapter lx. (Lib. x.) and the second in the same book chapters lxii-lxv. Here too they are mixed up with anecdotes and acroamata after the fashion of The Nights, suggesting great antiquity for this style of composition.
14 Brugsch, History of Egypt, vol. i. 266 et seq. The fabliau is interesting in more ways than one. Anepu the elder (Potiphar) understands the language of cattle, an idea ever cropping up in Folk-lore; and Bata (Joseph), his “little brother,” who becomes a “panther of the South (Nubia) for rage” at the wife’s impudique proposal, takes the form of a bull — metamorphosis full blown. It is not, as some have called it, the “oldest book in the world;” that name was given by M. Chabas to a Ms. of Proverbs, dating from B.C. 2200. See also the “Story of Saneha,” a novel earlier than the popular date of Moses, in the Contes Populaires of Egypt.
15 The fox and the jackal are confounded by the Arabic dialects not by the Persian, whose “Rubáh” can never be mistaken for “Shaghál.” “Sa’lab” among the Semites is locally applied to either beast and we can distinguish the two only by the fox being solitary and rapacious, and the jackal gregarious and a carrion-eater. In all Hindu tales the jackal seems to be an awkward substitute for the Grecian and classical fox, the Giddar or Kolá (Cants aureus) being by no means sly and wily as the Lomri (Vulpes vulgaris). This is remarked by Weber (Indische Studien) and Prof. Benfey’s retort about “King Nobel” the lion is by no means to the point. See Katha Sarit Sagara, ii. 28.
I may add that in Northern Africa jackal’s gall, like jackal’s grape (Solanum nigrum = black nightshade), ass’s milk and melted camel-hump, is used aphrodisiacally as an unguent by both sexes. See. p. 239, etc., of Le Jardin parfumé du Cheikh Nefzaoui, of whom more presently.
16 Rambler, No. lxvii.
17 Some years ago I was asked by my old landlady if ever in the course of my travels I had come across Captain Gulliver.
18 In “The Adventurer” quoted by Mr. Heron, “Translator’s Preface to the Arabian Tales of Chaves and Cazotte.”
19 “Life in a Levantine Family” chapt. xi. Since the able author found his “family” firmly believing in The Nights, much has been changed in Alexandria; but the faith in Jinn and Ifrit, ghost and vampire is lively as ever.
20 The name dates from the second century A. H. or before A. D. 815.
21 Dabistan i. 231 etc.
22 Because Si = thirty and Murgh = bird. In McClenachan’s Addendum to Mackay’s Encyclopæedia of Freemasonry we find the following definition: “Simorgh. A monstrous griffin, guardian of the Persian mysteries.”
23 For a poor and inadequate description of the festivals commemorating this “Architect of the Gods” see vol. iii. 177, “View of the History etc. of the Hindus” by the learned Dr. Ward, who could see in them only the “low and sordid nature of idolatry.” But we can hardly expect better things from a missionary in 1822, when no one took the trouble to understand what “idolatry” means.
24 Rawlinson (ii. 491) on Herod. iii. c. 102. Nearchus saw the skins of these formicæ Indicæ, by some rationalists explained as “jackals,” whose stature corresponds with the text, and by others as “pengolens” or ant-eaters (manis pentedactyla). The learned Sanskritist, H. H. Wilson, quotes the name Pippilika = ant-gold, given by the people of Little Thibet to the precious dust thrown up in the emmet heaps.
25 A writer in the Edinburgh Review (July, ‘86), of whom more presently, suggests that The Nights assumed essentially their present shape during the general revival of letters, arts and requirements which accompanied the Kurdish and Tartar irruptions into the Nile Valley, a golden age which embraced the whole of the thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and ended with the Ottoman Conquest in A. D. 1527.
26 Let us humbly hope not again to hear of the golden prime of
“The good (fellow?) Haroun Alrasch’id,”
a mispronunciation which suggests only a rasher of bacon. Why will not poets mind their quantities, in lieu of stultifying their lines by childish ignorance? What can be more painful than Byron’s
“They laid his dust in Ar’qua (for Arqua) where he died?”
27 See De Sacy’s Chrestomathie Arabe (Paris, 1826), vol. i.
28 See Le Jardin Parfumé du Cheikh Nefzaoui Manuel d’Erotologie Arabe Traduction revue et corrigée Edition privée, imprimé à deux cent.-vingt exemplaires, par Isidore Liseux et ses Amis, Paris, 1866. The editor has forgotten to note that the celebrated Sidi Mohammed copied some of the tales from The Nights and borrowed others (I am assured by a friend) from Tunisian Mss. of the same work. The book has not been fairly edited: the notes abound in mistakes, the volume lacks an index, &c., &c. Since this was written the Jardin Parfumé has been twice translated into English as “The Perfumed Garden of the Cheikh Nefzaoui, a Manual of Arabian Erotology (sixteenth century). Revised and corrected translation, Cosmopoli: mdccclxxxvi.: for the Kama Shastra Society of London and Benares and for private circulation only.” A rival version will be brought out by a bookseller whose Committee, as he calls it, appears to be the model of literary pirates, robbing the author as boldly and as openly as if they picked his pocket before his face.
29 Translated by a well-known Turkish scholar, Mr. E. J. W. Gibb (Glasgow, Wilson and McCormick, 1884).
30 D’Herbelot (s. v. “Asmai”): I am reproached by a dabbler in Orientalism for using this admirable writer who shows more knowledge in one page than my critic does in a whole volume.
31 For specimens see Al–Siyuti, pp. 301 and 304, and the Shaykh al Nafzawi, pp. 134–35
32 The word “nakh” (to make a camel kneel) is explained in vol. ii. 139.
33 The present of the famous horologium-clepsydra-cuckoo clock, the dog Becerillo and the elephant Abu Lubabah sent by Harun to Charlemagne is not mentioned by Eastern authorities and consequently no reference to it will be found in my late friend Professor Palmer’s little volume “Haroun Alraschid,” London, Marcus Ward, 1881. We have allusions to many presents, the clock and elephant, tent and linen hangings, silken dresses, perfumes, and candelabra of auricalch brought by the Legati (Abdalla Georgius Abba et Felix) of Aaron Amiralmumminim Regis Persarum who entered the Port of Pisa (A. D. 801) in (vol. v. 178) Recueil des Histor. des Gaules et de la France, etc., par Dom Martin Bouquet, Paris, mdccxliv. The author also quotes the lines:—
Persarum Princeps illi devinctus amore
Præcipuo fuerat, nomen habens Aaron.
Gratia cui Caroli præ cunctis Regibus atque
Illis Principibus tempora cara funit.
34 Many have remarked that the actual date of the decease is unknown.
35 See Al–Siyuti (p. 305) and Dr. Jonathan Scott’s “Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters,” (p. 296).
36 I have given (vol. i. 188) the vulgar derivation of the name; and D’Herbelot (s. v. Barmakian) quotes some Persian lines alluding to the “supping up.” Al–Mas’udi’s account of the family’s early history is unfortunately lost. This Khálid succeeded Abu Salámah, first entitled Wazir under Al–Saffah (Ibn Khallikan i. 468).
37 For his poetry see Ibn Khallikan iv. 103.
38 Their flatterers compared them with the four elements.
39 Al–Mas’udi, chapt. cxii.
40 Ibn Khallikan (i. 310) says the eunuch Abu Háshim Masrúr, the Sworder of Vengeance, who is so pleasantly associated with Ja’afar in many nightly disguises; but the Eunuch survived the Caliph. Fakhr al-Din (p. 27) adds that Masrur was an enemy of Ja’afar; and gives further details concerning the execution.
41 Bresl. Edit., Night dlxvii. vol. vii. pp. 258–260; translated in the Mr. Payne’s “Tales from the Arabic,” vol. i. 189 and headed “Al–Rashid and the Barmecides.” It is far less lively and dramatic than the account of the same event given by Al–Mas’udi, chapt. cxii., by Ibn Khallikan and by Fakhr al-Din.
42 Al–Mas’udi, chapt. cxi.
43 See Dr. Jonathan Scott’s extracts from Major Ouseley’s “Tarikh-i-Barmaki.”
44 Al–Mas’udi, chapt. cxii. For the liberties Ja’afar took see Ibn Khallikan, i. 303.
45 Ibid. chapt. xxiv. In vol. ii. 29 of The Nights, I find signs of Ja’afar’s suspected heresy. For Al–Rashid’s hatred of the Zindiks see Al–Siyuti, pp. 292, 301; and as regards the religious troubles ibid. p. 362 and passim.
46 Biogr. Dict. i. 309.
47 This accomplished princess had a practice that suggests the Dame aux Camélias.
48 i. e. Perdition to your fathers, Allah’s curse on your ancestors.
49 See vol. iv. 159, “Ja’afar and the Bean-seller;” where the great Wazir is said to have been “crucified;” and vol. iv. pp. 179, 181. Also Roebuck’s Persian Proverbs, i. 2, 346, “This also is through the munificence of the Barmecides.”
50 I especially allude to my friend Mr. Payne’s admirably written account of it in his concluding Essay (vol. ix.). From his views of the Great Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah I must differ in every point except the destruction of the Barmecides.
51 Bresl. Edit., vol. vii. 261–62.
52 Mr. Grattan Geary, in a work previously noticed, informs us (i. 212) “The Sitt al-Zobeide, or the Lady Zobeide, was so named from the great Zobeide tribe of Arabs occupying the country East and West of the Euphrates near the Hindi’ah Canal; she was the daughter of a powerful Sheik of that Tribe.” Can this explain the “Kásim”?
53 Vol. viii. 296.
54 Burckhardt, “Travels in Arabia” vol. i. 185.
55 The reverse has been remarked by more than one writer; and contemporary French opinion seems to be that Victor Hugo’s influence on French prose, was on the whole, not beneficial.
56 Mr. W. S. Clouston, the “Storiologist,” who is preparing a work to be entitled “Popular Tales and Fictions; their Migrations and Transformations,” informs me the first to adapt this witty anecdote was Jacques de Vitry, the crusading bishop of Accon (Acre) who died at Rome in 1240, after setting the example of “Exempla” or instances in his sermons. He had probably heard it in Syria, and he changed the day-dreamers into a Milkmaid and her Milk-pail to suit his “flock.” It then appears as an “Exemplum” in the Liber de Donis or de Septem Donis (or De Dono Timoris from Fear the first gift) of Stephanus de Borbone, the Dominican, ob. Lyons, 1261: it treated of the gifts of the Holy Spirit (Isaiah xi. 2 and 3), Timor, Pietas, Scientia, Fortitudo, Consilium, Intellectus et Sapientia; and was plentifully garnished with narratives for the use of preachers.
57 The Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register (new series, vol. xxx. Sept.-Dec. 1830, London, Allens, 1839); p. 69 Review of the Arabian Nights, the Mac. Edit. vol. i., and H. Torrens.
58 As a household edition of the “Arabian Nights” is now being prepared, the curious reader will have an opportunity of verifying this statement.
59 It has been pointed out to me that in vol. ii. p. 285, line 18 “Zahr Shah” is a mistake for Sulayman Shah.
60 I have lately found these lovers at Schloss Sternstein near Cilli in Styria, the property of my excellent colleague, Mr. Consul Faber, dating from A. D. 1300 when Jobst of Reichenegg and Agnes of Sternstein were aided and abetted by a Capuchin of Seikkloster.
61 In page 226 Dr. Steingass sensibly proposes altering the last hemistich (lines 11–12) to
At one time showing the Moon and Sun.
62 Omitted by Lane for some reason unaccountable as usual. A correspondent sends me his version of the lines which occur in The Nights (vol. v. 106 and 107):—
Behold the Pyramids and hear them teach
What they can tell of Future and of Past:
They would declare, had they the gift of speech,
The deeds that Time hath wrought from first to last
My friends, and is there aught beneath the sky
Can with th’ Egyptian Pyramids compare?
In fear of them strong Time hath passed by
And everything dreads Time in earth and air.
63 A rhyming Romance by Henry of Waldeck (flor. A. D. 1160) with a Latin poem on the same subject by Odo and a prose version still popular in Germany. (Lane’s Nights iii. 81; and Weber’s “Northern Romances.”)
64 e. g. ‘Ajáib al-Hind (= Marvels of Ind) ninth century, translated by J. Marcel Devic, Paris, 1878; and about the same date the Two Mohammedan Travellers, translated by Renaudot. In the eleventh century we have the famous Sayyid al-ldrisi, in the thirteenth the ‘Ajáib al-Makhlúkat of Al–Kazwini and in the fourteenth the Kharídat al-Ajáib of Ibn Al–Wardi. Lane (in loco) traces most of Sindbad to the two latter sources.
65 So Hector France proposed to name his admirably realistic volume “Sous le Burnous” (Paris, Charpentier, 1886).
66 I mean in European literature, not in Arabic where it is a lieu commun. See three several forms of it in one page (505) of Ibn Kallikan, vol. iii.
67 My attention has been called to the resemblance between the half-lie and Job (i. 13 — 19).
And now, after considering the matter, I will glance at the language and style of The Nights. The first point to remark is the peculiarly happy framework of the Recueil, which I cannot but suspect set an example to the Decamerone and its host of successors.1 The admirable Introduction, a perfect mise-en-scène, gives the amplest raison d’être of the work, which thus has all the unity required for a great romantic recueil. We perceive this when reading the contemporary Hindu work the Kathá Sarit Ságara,2 which is at once so like and so unlike The Nights: here the preamble is insufficient; the whole is clumsy for want of a thread upon which the many independent tales and fables should be strung3; and the consequent disorder and confusion tell upon the reader, who cannot remember the sequence without taking notes.
As was said in my Foreword “without The Nights no Arabian Nights!” and now, so far from holding the pauses “an intolerable interruption to the narrative,” I attach additional importance to these pleasant and restful breaks introduced into long and intricate stories. Indeed beginning again I should adopt the plan of the Cal. Edit. opening and ending every division with a dialogue between the sisters. Upon this point, however, opinions will differ and the critic will remind me that the consensus of the Mss. would be wanting: The Bresl. Edit. in many places merely interjects the number of the night without interrupting the tale; the Ms. in the Bibliotheque Nationale used by Galland contains only cclxxxii and the Frenchman ceases to use the division after the ccxxxvith Night and in some editions after the cxcviith.4 A fragmentary Ms. according to Scott whose friend J. Anderson found it in Bengal, breaks away after Night xxix; and in the Wortley Montagu, the Sultan relents at an early opportunity, the stories, as in Galland, continuing only as an amusement. I have been careful to preserve the balanced sentences with which the tales open; the tautology and the prose- rhyme serving to attract attention, e. g., “In days of yore and in times long gone before there was a King,” etc.; in England where we strive not to waste words this becomes “Once upon a time.” The closings also are artfully calculated, by striking a minor chord after the rush and hurry of the incidents, to suggest repose: “And they led the most pleasurable of lives and the most delectable, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies and they became as though they had never been.” Place this by the side of Boccaccio’s favourite formulae:— Egli conquistò poi la Scozia, e funne re coronato (ii, 3); Et onorevolmente visse infino alla fine (ii, 4); Molte volte goderono del loro amore: Iddio faccia noi goder del nostro (iii, 6): E cosi nella sue grossezza si rimase e ancor vi si sta (vi, 8). We have further docked this tail into: “And they lived happily ever after.”
I cannot take up the Nights in their present condition, without feeling that the work has been written down from the Ráwi or Nakkál,5 the conteur or professional story-teller, also called Kassás and Maddáh, corresponding with the Hindu Bhat or Bard. To these men my learned friend Baron A. von Kremer would attribute the Mu’allakat vulgarly called the Suspended Poems, as being “indited from the relation of the Ráwi.” Hence in our text the frequent interruption of the formula Kal’ al-Rawi = quotes the reciter; dice Turpino. Moreover, The Nights read in many places like a hand-book or guide for the professional, who would learn them by heart; here and there introducing his “gag” and “patter”. To this “business” possibly we may attribute much of the ribaldry which starts up in unexpected places: it was meant simply to provoke a laugh. How old the custom is and how unchangeable is Eastern life is shown, a correspondent suggests, by the Book of Esther which might form part of The Alf Laylah. “On that night (we read in Chap. vi. 1) could not the King sleep, and he commanded to bring the book of records of the chronicles; and they were read before the King.” The Ráwi would declaim the recitative somewhat in conversational style; he would intone the Saj’a or prose-rhyme and he would chant to the twanging of the Rabáb, a one-stringed viol, the poetical parts. Dr. Scott6 borrows from the historian of Aleppo a life-like picture of the Story-teller. “He recites walking to and fro in the middle of the coffee-room, stopping only now and then, when the expression requires some emphatical attitude. He is commonly heard with great attention; and not unfrequently in the midst of some interesting adventure, when the expectation of his audience is raised to the highest pitch, he breaks off abruptly and makes his escape, leaving both his hero or heroine and his audience in the utmost embarrassment. Those who happen to be near the door endeavour to detain him, insisting upon the story being finished before he departs; but he always makes his retreat good7; and the auditors suspending their curiosity are induced to return at the same time next day to hear the sequel. He has no sooner made his exit than the company in separate parties fall to disputing about the characters of the drama or the event of an unfinished adventure. The controversy by degrees becomes serious and opposite opinions are maintained with no less warmth than if the fall of the city depended upon the decision.”
At Tangier, where a murder in a “coffee-house” had closed these hovels, pending a sufficient payment to the Pasha; and where, during the hard winter of 1885–86, the poorer classes were compelled to puff their Kayf (Bhang, cannabis indica) and sip their black coffee in the muddy streets under a rainy sky, I found the Ráwi active on Sundays and Thursdays, the market days. The favourite place was the “Soko de barra,” or large bazar, outside the town whose condition is that of Suez and Bayrut half a century ago. It is a foul slope; now slippery with viscous mud, then powdery with fetid dust, dotted with graves and decaying tombs, unclean booths, gargottes and tattered tents, and frequented by women, mere bundles of unclean rags, and by men wearing the haik or burnús, a Franciscan frock, tending their squatting camels and chaffering over cattle for Gibraltar beef-eaters. Here the market-people form a ring about the reciter, a stalwart man affecting little raiment besides a broad waist-belt into which his lower chiffons are tucked, and noticeable only for his shock hair, wild eyes, broad grin and generally disreputable aspect. He usually handles a short stick; and, when drummer and piper are absent, he carries a tiny tom-tom shaped like an hour-glass, upon which he taps the periods. This Scealuidhe, as the Irish call him, opens the drama with extempore prayer, proving that he and the audience are good Moslems: he speaks slowly and with emphasis, varying the diction with breaks of animation, abundant action and the most comical grimace: he advances, retires and wheels about, illustrating every point with pantomime; and his features, voice and gestures are so expressive that even Europeans who cannot understand a word of Arabic divine the meaning of his tale. The audience stands breathless and motionless surprising strangers8 by the ingenuousness and freshness of feeling hidden under their hard and savage exterior. The performance usually ends with the embryo actor going round for alms and flourishing in air every silver bit, the usual honorarium being a few “f’lús,” that marvellous money of Barbary, big coppers worth one-twelfth of a penny. All the tales I heard were purely local, but Fakhri Bey, a young Osmanli domiciled for some time in Fez and Mequinez, assured me that The Nights are still recited there.
Many travellers, including Dr. Russell, have complained that they failed to find a complete Ms. copy of The Nights. Evidently they never heard of the popular superstition which declares that no one can read through them without dying — it is only fair that my patrons should know this. Yacoub Artín Pasha declares that the superstition dates from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and he explains it in two ways. Firstly, it is a facetious exaggeration, meaning that no one has leisure or patience to wade through the long repertory. Secondly, the work is condemned as futile. When Egypt produced savants and legists like Ibn al-Hajar, Al-‘Ayni, and Al–Kastalláni, to mention no others, the taste of the country inclined to dry factual studies and positive science; nor, indeed, has this taste wholly died out: there are not a few who, like Khayri Pasha, contend that the mathematic is more useful even for legal studies than history and geography, and at Cairo the chief of the Educational Department has always been an engineer, i. e., a mathematician. The Olema declared war against all “futilities,” in which they included not only stories but also what is politely entitled Authentic History. From this to the fatal effect of such lecture is only a step. Society, however, cannot rest without light literature; so the novel- reading class was thrown back upon writings which had all the indelicacy and few of the merits of The Nights.
Turkey is the only Moslem country which has dared to produce a regular drama9 and to arouse the energies of such brilliant writers as Muníf Pasha, statesman and scholar; Ekrem Bey, literato and professor; Kemál Bey, held by some to be the greatest writer in modern Osmanli-land and Abd al-Hakk Hamíd Bey, first Secretary of the London Embassy. The theatre began in its ruder form by taking subjects bodily from The Nights; then it annexed its plays as we do — the Novel having ousted the Drama — from the French; and lastly it took courage to be original. Many years ago I saw Harun al-Rashid and the Three Kalandars, with deer-skins and all their properties de rigueur in the court-yard of Government House, Damascus, declaiming to the extreme astonishment and delight of the audience. It requires only to glance at The Nights for seeing how much histrionic matter they contain.
In considering the style of The Nights we must bear in mind that the work has never been edited according to our ideas of the process. Consequently there is no just reason for translating the whole verbatim et literatim, as has been done by Torrens, Lane and Payne in his “Tales from the Arabic.”10 This conscientious treatment is required for versions of an author like Camœns, whose works were carefully corrected and arranged by a competent littérateur, but it is not merited by The Nights as they now are. The Macnaghten, the Bulak and the Bayrut texts, though printed from Mss. identical in order, often differ in minor matters. Many friends have asked me to undertake the work: but, even if lightened by the aid of Shaykhs, Munshis and copyists, the labour would be severe, tedious and thankless: better leave the holes open than patch them with fancy work or with heterogeneous matter. The learned, indeed, as Lane tells us (i. 74; iii. 740), being thoroughly dissatisfied with the plain and popular, the ordinary and “vulgar” note of the language, have attempted to refine and improve it and have more than once threatened to remodel it, that is, to make it odious. This would be to dress up Robert Burns in plumes borrowed from Dryden and Pope.
The first defect of the texts is in the distribution and arrangement of the matter, as I have noticed in the case of Sindbad the Seaman (vol. vi. 77). Moreover, many of the earlier Nights are overlong and not a few of the others are overshort: this, however, has the prime recommendation of variety. Even the vagaries of editor and scribe will not account for all the incoherences, disorder and inconsequence, and for the vain iterations which suggest that the author has forgotten what he said. In places there are dead allusions to persons and tales which are left dark, e. g. vol. i. pp. 43, 57, 61, etc. The digressions are abrupt and useless, leading nowhere, while sundry pages are wearisome for excess of prolixity or hardly intelligible for extreme conciseness. The perpetual recurrence of mean colloquialisms and of words and idioms peculiar to Egypt and Syria11 also takes from the pleasure of the perusal. Yet we cannot deny that it has its use: this unadorned language of familiar conversation, in its day adapted for the understanding of the people, is best fitted for the Rawi’s craft in the camp and caravan, the Harem, the bazar and the coffee- house. Moreover, as has been well said, The Nights is the only written half-way house between the literary and colloquial Arabic which is accessible to all, and thus it becomes necessary to the students who would qualify themselves for service in Moslem lands from Mauritania to Mesopotamia. It freely uses Turkish words like “Khátún” and Persian terms as “Sháhbandar,” thus requiring for translation not only a somewhat archaic touch, but also a vocabulary borrowed from various sources: otherwise the effect would not be reproduced. In places, however, the style rises to the highly ornate approaching the pompous; e. g. the Wazirial addresses in the tale of King Jali’ad. The battle-scenes, mostly admirable (vol. v. 365), are told with the conciseness of a despatch and the vividness of an artist; the two combining to form perfect “word-pictures.” Of the Badí‘a or euphuistic style, “Parleying euphuism,” and of Al Saj’a, the prose rhyme, I shall speak in a future page.
The characteristics of the whole are naïveté and simplicity, clearness and a singular concision. The gorgeousness is in the imagery not in the language; the words are weak while the sense, as in the classical Scandinavian books, is strong; and here the Arabic differs diametrically from the florid exuberance and turgid amplifications of the Persian story-teller, which sound so hollow and unreal by the side of a chaster model. It abounds in formulæ such as repetitions of religious phrases which are unchangeable. There are certain stock comparisons, as Lokman’s wisdom, Joseph’s beauty, Jacob’s grief, Job’s patience, David’s music, and Maryam the Virgin’s chastity. The eyebrow is a Nún; the eye a Sád, the mouth a Mím. A hero is more prudent than the crow, a better guide than the Katá grouse, more generous than the cock, warier than the crane, braver than the lion, more aggressive than the panther, finer-sighted than the horse, craftier than the fox, greedier than the gazelle, more vigilant than the dog, and thriftier than the ant. The cup-boy is a sun rising from the dark underworld symbolised by his collar; his cheek-mole is a crumb of ambergris, his nose is a scymitar grided at the curve; his lower lip is a jujube; his teeth are the Pleiades or hailstones; his browlocks are scorpions; his young hair on the upper lip is an emerald; his side beard is a swarm of ants or a Lám ( — letter) enclosing the roses or anemones of his cheek. The cup-girl is a moon who rivals the sheen of the sun; her forehead is a pearl set off by the jet of her “idiot-fringe;” her eyelashes scorn the sharp sword; and her glances are arrows shot from the bow of the eyebrows. A mistress necessarily belongs, though living in the next street, to the Wady Liwá and to a hostile clan of Badawin whose blades are ever thirsting for the lover’s blood and whose malignant tongues aim only at the “defilement of separation.” Youth is upright as an Alif, or slender and bending as a branch of the Bán-tree which we should call a willow-wand,12 while Age, crabbed and crooked, bends groundwards vainly seeking in the dust his lost juvenility. As Baron de Slane says of these stock comparisons (Ibn Khall. i. xxxvi.), “The figurative language of Moslem poets is often difficult to be understood. The narcissus is the eye; the feeble stem of that plant bends languidly under its dower, and thus recalls to mind the languor of the eyes. Pearls signify both tears and teeth; the latter are sometimes called hailstones, from their whiteness and moisture; the lips are cornelians or rubies; the gums, a pomegranate flower; the dark foliage of the myrtle is synonymous with the black hair of the beloved, or with the first down on the cheeks of puberty. The down itself is called the izâr, or head-stall of the bridle, and the curve of the izar is compared to the letters lâm ( ) and nûn ( ).13 Ringlets trace on the cheek or neck the letter Waw ( ); they are called Scorpions (as the Greek {Greek text}), either from their dark colour or their agitated movements; the eye is a sword; the eyelids scabbards; the whiteness of the complexion, camphor; and a mole or beauty-spot, musk, which term denotes also dark hair. A mole is sometimes compared also to an ant creeping on the cheek towards the honey of the mouth; a handsome face is both a full moon and day; black hair is night; the waist is a willow-branch or a lance; the water of the face is self-respect: a poet sells the water of his face14 when he bestows mercenary praises on a rich patron.”
This does not sound promising: yet, as has been said of Arab music, the persistent repetition of the same notes in the minor key is by no means monotonous and ends with haunting the ear, occupying the thought and touching the soul. Like the distant frog-concert and chirp of the cicada, the creak of the water-wheel and the stroke of hammers upon the anvil from afar, the murmur of the fountain, the sough of the wind and the plash of the wavelet, they occupy the sensorium with a soothing effect, forming a barbaric music full of sweetness and peaceful pleasure.
1 Boccaccio (ob. Dec. 2, 1375), may easily have heard of The Thousand Nights and a Night or of its archetype the Hazár Afsánah. He was followed by the Piacevoli Notti of Giovan Francisco Straparola (A. D. 1550), translated into almost all European languages but English: the original Italian is now rare. Then came the Heptameron ou Histoire des amans fortunez of Marguerite d’Angoulême, Reyne de Navarre and only sister of Francis I. She died in 1549 before the days were finished: in 1558 Pierre Boaistuan published the Histoire des amans fortunez and in 1559 Claude Guiget the “Heptameron.” Next is the Hexameron of A. de Torquemada, Rouen, 1610; and, lastly, the Pentamerone or El Cunto de li Cunte of Giambattista Basile (Naples 1637), known by the meagre abstract of J. E. Taylor and the caricatures of George Cruikshank (London 1847–50). I propose to translate this Pentamerone direct from the Neapolitan and have already finished half the work.
2 Translated and well annotated by Prof. Tawney, who, however, affects asterisks and has considerably bowdlerised sundry of the tales, e. g. the Monkey who picked out the Wedge (vol. ii. 28). This tale, by the by, is found in the Khirad Afroz (i. 128) and in the Anwar-i-Suhayli (chapt. i.) and gave rise to the Persian proverb, “What has a monkey to do with carpentering?” It is curious to compare the Hindu with the Arabic work whose resemblances are as remarkable as their differences, while even more notable is their correspondence in impressioning the reader. The Thaumaturgy of both is the same: the Indian is profuse in demonology and witchcraft; in transformation and restoration; in monsters as wind-men, fire-men and water-men, in air-going elephants and flying horses (i. 541–43); in the wishing cow, divine goats and laughing fishes (i. 24); and in the speciosa miracula of magic weapons. He delights in fearful battles (i. 400) fought with the same weapons as the Moslem and rewards his heroes with a “turband of honour” (i. 266) in lieu of a robe. There is a quaint family likeness arising from similar stages and states of society: the city is adorned for gladness, men carry money in a robe-corner and exclaim “Ha! good!” (for “Good, by Allah!”), lovers die with exemplary facility, the “soft-sided” ladies drink spirits (i. 61) and princesses get drunk (i. 476); whilst the Eunuch, the Hetaira and the bawd (Kuttini) play the same preponderating parts as in The Nights. Our Brahman is strong in love-making; he complains of the pains of separation in this phenomenal universe; he revels in youth, “twin-brother to mirth,” and beauty which has illuminating powers; he foully reviles old age and he alternately praises and abuses the sex, concerning which more presently. He delights in truisms, the fashion of contemporary Europe (see Palmerin of England chapt. vii), such as “It is the fashion of the heart to receive pleasure from those things which ought to give it,” etc. etc. What is there the wise cannot understand? and so forth. He is liberal in trite reflections and frigid conceits (i. 19, 55, 97, 103, 107, in fact everywhere); and his puns run through whole lines; this in fine Sanskrit style is inevitable. Yet some of his expressions are admirably terse and telling, e. g. Ascending the swing of Doubt: Bound together (lovers) by the leash of gazing: Two babes looking like Misery and Poverty: Old Age seized me by the chin: (A lake) first assay of the Creator’s skill: (A vow) difficult as standing on a sword-edge: My vital spirits boiled with the fire of woe: Transparent as a good man’s heart: There was a certain convent full of fools: Dazed with scripture-reading: The stones could not help laughing at him: The Moon kissed the laughing forehead of the East: She was like a wave of the Sea of Love’s insolence (ii. 127), a wave of the Sea of Beauty tossed up by the breeze of Youth: The King played dice, he loved slave-girls, he told lies, he sat up o’ nights, he waxed wroth without reason, he took wealth wrongously, he despised the good and honoured the bad (i. 562); with many choice bits of the same kind. Like the Arab the Indian is profuse in personification; but the doctrine of pre-existence, of incarnation and emanation and an excessive spiritualism ever aiming at the infinite, makes his imagery run mad. Thus we have Immoral Conduct embodied; the God of Death; Science; the Svarga-heaven; Evening; Untimeliness, and the Earth-bride, while the Ace and Deuce of dice are turned into a brace of Demons. There is also that grotesqueness which the French detect even in Shakespeare, e. g. She drank in his ambrosial form with thirsty eyes like partridges (i. 476) and it often results from the comparison of incompatibles, e. g. a row of birds likened to a garden of nymphs; and from forced allegories, the favourite figure of contemporary Europe. Again, the rhetorical Hindu style differs greatly from the sobriety, directness and simplicity of the Arab, whose motto is Brevity combined with precision, except where the latter falls into “fine writing.” And, finally, there is a something in the atmosphere of these Tales which is unfamiliar to the West and which makes them, as more than one has remarked to me, very hard reading.
3 The Introduction (i. 1–5) leads to the Curse of Pushpadanta and Mályaván who live on Earth as Vararúchi and Gunádhya and this runs through lib. i. Lib. ii. begins with the Story of Udáyana to whom we must be truly grateful as our only guide: he and his son Naraváhanadatta fill up the rest and end with lib. xviii. Thus the want of the clew or plot compels a division into books, which begin for instance with “We worship the elephantine proboscis of Ganesha” (lib. x. i.) a reverend and awful object to a Hindu but to Englishmen mainly suggesting the “Zoo.” The “Bismillah” of The Nights is much more satisfactory.
4 See pp. 5–6 Avertissement des Éditeurs, Le Cabinet des Fées, vol. xxxviii: Geneva 1788. Galland’s Edit. of mdccxxvi ends with Night ccxxxiv and the English translations with ccxxxvi and cxcvii. See retro p. 82.
5 There is a shade of difference in the words; the former is also used for Reciters of Traditions — a serious subject. But in the case of Hammád surnamed Al-Ráwiyah (the Rhapsode) attached to the Court of Al–Walid, it means simply a conteur. So the Greeks had Homeristæ = reciters of Homer, as opposed to the Homeridæ or School of Homer.
6 Vol. i, Preface p. v. He notes that Mr. Dallaway describes the same scene at Constantinople where the Story-teller was used, like the modern “Organs of Government” in newspaper shape, for “reconciling the people to any recent measure of the Sultan and Vizier.” There are women Ráwiyahs for the Harems and some have become famous like the Mother of Hasan al-Basri (Ibn Khall. i, 370).
7 Hence the Persian proverb, “Báki-e-dastán fardá = the rest of the tale to-morrow,” said to askers of silly questions.
8 The scene is excellently described in, “Morocco: Its People and Places,” by Edmondo de Amicis (London: Cassell, 1882), a most refreshing volume after the enforced platitudes and commonplaces of English travellers.
9 It began, however, in Persia, where the celebrated Darwaysh Mukhlis, Chief Sofi of Isfahan in the xviith century, translated into Persian tales certain Hindu plays of which a Ms. entitled Alfaraga Badal–Schidda (Al-faraj ba’d al-shiddah = Joy after annoy) exists in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. But to give an original air to his work, he entitled it “Hazár o yek Ruz” = Thousand and One Days, and in 1675 he allowed his friend Petis de la Croix, who happened to be at Isfahan, to copy it. Le Sage (of Gil Blas) is said to have converted many of the tales of Mukhlis into comic operas, which were performed at the Théâtre Italien. I still hope to see The Nights at the Lyceum.
10 This author, however, when hazarding a change of style which is, I think, regretable, has shown abundant art by filling up the frequent deficiencies of the text after the fashion of Baron McGuckin de Slane in Ibn Khallikan. As regards the tout ensemble of his work, a noble piece of English, my opinion will ever be that expressed in my Foreword. A carping critic has remarked that the translator, “as may be seen in every page, is no Arabic scholar.” If I be a judge, the reverse is the case: the brilliant and beautiful version thus traduced is almost entirely free from the blemishes and carelessness which disfigure Lane’s, and thus it is far more faithful to the original. But it is no secret that on the staff of that journal the translator of Villon has sundry enemies, vrais diables enjupponés, who take every opportunity of girding at him because he does not belong to the clique and because he does good work when theirs is mostly sham. The sole fault I find with Mr. Payne is that his severe grace of style treats an unclassical work as a classic, when the romantic and irregular would have been a more appropriate garb. But this is a mere matter of private judgment.
11 Here I offer a few, but very few, instances from the Breslau text, which is the greatest sinner in this respect. Mas. for fem., vol. i. p. 9, and three times in seven pages, Ahná and nahná for nahnú (iv. 370, 372); Aná ba-ashtarí = I will buy (iii. 109): and Aná ‘Ámíl = I will do (v. 367). Alaykí for Alayki (i. 18), Antí for Anti (iii. 66) and generally long í for short. ‘Ammál (from ‘amala = he did) tahlam = certainly thou dreamest, and ‘Ammálín yaakulú = they were about to eat (ix. 315): Aywá for Ay wa’lláhí = yes, by Allah (passim). Bitá’ = belonging to, e.g. Sára bitá‘k = it is become thine (ix. 352) and Matá’ with the same sense (iii. 80). Dá ‘l-khurj = this saddle-bag (ix. 336) and Dí (for hazah) = this woman (iii. 79) or this time (ii. 162). Fayn as ráha fayn = whither is he gone? (iv. 323). Kamá badri = he rose early (ix. 318): Kamán = also, a word known to every European (ii. 43): Katt = never (ii. 172): Kawám (pronounced ‘awám) = fast, at once (iv. 385) and Rih ásif kawí (pron. ‘awí) = a wind, strong very. Laysh, e.g. bi tasalní laysh (ix. 324) = why do you ask me? a favourite form for li ayya shayyin: so Máfish = má fihi shayyun (there is no thing) in which Herr Landberg (p. 425) makes “Sha, le présent de pouvoir.” Min ajali = for my sake; and Li ajal al-taudí‘a = for the sake of taking leave (Mac. Edit. i. 384). Rijál nautiyah = men sailors when the latter word would suffice: Shuwayh (dim. of shayy) = a small thing, a little (iv. 309) like Moyyah (dim. of Má) a little water: Waddúní = they carried me (ii. 172) and lastly the abominable Wáhid gharíb = one (for a) stranger. These few must suffice: the tale of Judar and his brethren, which in style is mostly Egyptian, will supply a number of others. It must not, however, be supposed, as many have done, that vulgar and colloquial Arabic is of modern date: we find it in the first century of Al–Islam, as is proved by the tale of Al–Hajjáj and Al–Shabi (Ibn Khallikan, ii. 6). The former asked “Kam ataa-k?’ (= how much is thy pay?) to which the latter answered, “Alfayn!” (= two thousand!). “Tut,” cried the Governor, “Kam atau-ka?” to which the poet replied as correctly and classically, “Alfáni.”
12 In Russian folk-songs a young girl is often compared with this tree e.g. —
Ivooshka, ivooshka zelonaia moia!
(O Willow, O green Willow mine!)
13 So in Hector France (“La vache enragée”) “Le sourcil en accent circonflexe et l’oeil en point d’interrogation.”
14 In Persian “Áb-i-rú” in India pronounced Ábrú.
I here propose to treat of the Social Condition which The Nights discloses, of Al–Islam at the earlier period of its development, concerning the position of women and about the pornology of the great Saga-book.
A splendid and glorious life was that of Baghdad in the days of the mighty Caliph,1 when the Capital had towered to the zenith of grandeur and was already trembling and tottering to the fall. The centre of human civilisation, which was then confined to Greece and Arabia, and the metropolis of an Empire exceeding in extent the widest limits of Rome, it was essentially a city of pleasure, a Paris of the ixth century. The “Palace of Peace” (Dár al-Salám), worthy successor of Babylon and Nineveh, which had outrivalled Damascus, the “Smile of the Prophet,” and Kufah, the successor of Hira and the magnificent creation of Caliph Omar, possessed unrivalled advantages of site and climate. The Tigris-Euphrates Valley, where the fabled Garden of Eden has been placed, in early ages succeeded the Nile — Valley as a great centre of human development; and the prerogative of a central and commanding position still promises it, even in the present state of decay and desolation under the unspeakable Turk, a magnificent future,2 when railways and canals shall connect it with Europe. The city of palaces and government offices, hotels and pavilions, mosques and colleges, kiosks and squares, bazars and markets, pleasure grounds and orchards, adorned with all the graceful charms which Saracenic architecture had borrowed from the Byzantines, lay couched upon the banks of the Dijlah–Hiddekel under a sky of marvellous purity and in a climate which makes mere life a “Kayf”— the luxury of tranquil enjoyment. It was surrounded by far extending suburbs, like Rusafah on the Eastern side and villages like Baturanjah, dear to the votaries of pleasure; and with the roar of a gigantic capital mingled the hum of prayer, the trilling of birds, the thrilling of harp and lute, the shrilling of pipes, the witching strains of the professional Almah, and the minstrel’s lay.
The population of Baghdad must have been enormous when the smallest number of her sons who fell victims to Huláku Khan in 1258 was estimated at eight hundred thousand, while other authorities more than double the terrible “butcher’s bill.” Her policy and polity were unique. A well regulated routine of tribute and taxation, personally inspected by the Caliph; a network of waterways, canaux d’arrosage; a noble system of highways, provided with viaducts, bridges and caravanserais, and a postal service of mounted couriers enabled it to collect as in a reservoir the wealth of the outer world. The facilities for education were upon the most extended scale; large sums, from private as well as public sources, were allotted to Mosques, each of which, by the admirable rule of Al–Islam, was expected to contain a school: these establishments were richly endowed and stocked with professors collected from every land between Khorasan and Marocco;3 and immense libraries 4 attracted the learned of all nations. It was a golden age for poets and panegyrists, koranists and literati, preachers and rhetoricians, physicians and scientists who, besides receiving high salaries and fabulous presents, were treated with all the honours of Chinese Mandarins; and, like these, the humblest Moslem — fisherman or artizan — could aspire through knowledge or savoir faire to the highest offices of the Empire. The effect was a grafting of Egyptian, and old Mesopotamian, of Persian and Græco-Latin fruits, by long Time deteriorated, upon the strong young stock of Arab genius; and the result, as usual after such imping, was a shoot of exceptional luxuriance and vitality. The educational establishments devoted themselves to the three main objects recognised by the Moslem world, Theology, Civil Law and Belles Lettres; and a multitude of trained Councillors enabled the ruling powers to establish and enlarge that complicated machinery of government, at once concentrated and decentralized, a despotism often fatal to the wealthy great but never neglecting the interests of the humbler lieges, which forms the beau idéal of Oriental administration. Under the Chancellors of the Empire the Kazis administered law and order, justice and equity; and from their decisions the poorest subject, Moslem or miscreant, could claim with the general approval of the lieges, access and appeal to the Caliph who, as Imám or Antistes of the Faith was High President of a Court of Cassation.
Under wise administration Agriculture and Commerce, the twin pillars of national prosperity, necessarily flourished. A scientific canalisation, with irrigation works inherited from the ancients, made the Mesopotamian Valley a rival of Kemi the Black Land, and rendered cultivation a certainty of profit, not a mere speculation, as it must ever be to those who perforce rely upon the fickle rains of Heaven. The remains of extensive mines prove that this source of public wealth was not neglected; navigation laws encouraged transit and traffic; and ordinances for the fisheries aimed at developing a branch of industry which is still backward even during the xixth century. Most substantial encouragement was given to trade and commerce, to manufactures and handicrafts, by the flood of gold which poured in from all parts of earth; by the presence of a splendid and luxurious court, and by the call for new arts and industries which such a civilisation would necessitate. The crafts were distributed into guilds and syndicates under their respective chiefs, whom the government did not “govern too much”: these Shahbandars, Mukaddams and Nakíbs regulated the several trades, rewarded the industrious, punished the fraudulent and were personally answerable, as we still see at Cairo, for the conduct of their constituents. Public order, the sine quâ non of stability and progress, was preserved, first, by the satisfaction of the lieges who, despite their characteristic turbulence, had few if any grievances; and, secondly, by a well directed and efficient police, an engine of statecraft which in the West seems most difficult to perfect. In the East, however, the Wali or Chief Commissioner can reckon more or less upon the unsalaried assistance of society: the cities are divided into quarters shut off one from other by night, and every Moslem is expected, by his law and religion, to keep watch upon his neighbours, to report their delinquencies and, if necessary, himself to carry out the penal code. But in difficult cases the guardians of the peace were assisted by a body of private detectives, women as well as men: these were called Tawwábún = the Penitents, because like our Bow-street runners, they had given up an even less respectable calling. Their adventures still delight the vulgar, as did the Newgate Calendar of past generations; and to this class we owe the Tales of Calamity Ahmad, Dalilah the Wily One, Saladin with the Three Chiefs of Police (vol. iv. 271), and Al–Malik al-Záhir with the Sixteen Constables (Bresl. Edit. xi. pp. 321 — 99). Here and in many other places we also see the origin of that “picaresque” literature which arose in Spain and overran Europe; and which begat Le Moyen de Parvenir. 5
I need say no more on this heading, the civilisation of Baghdad contrasting with the barbarism of Europe then Germanic, The Nights itself being the best expositor. On the other hand the action of the state-religion upon the state, the condition of Al-Islam during the reign of Al–Rashid, its declension from the primitive creed and its relation to Christianity and Christendom, require a somewhat extended notice. In offering the following observations it is only fair to declare my standpoints.
1. All forms of “faith,” that is, belief in things unseen, not subject to the senses, and therefore unknown and (in our present stage of development) unknowable, are temporary and transitory: no religion hitherto promulgated amongst men shows any prospect of being final or otherwise than finite.
2. Religious ideas, which are necessarily limited, may all be traced home to the old seat of science and art, creeds and polity in the Nile–Valley and to this day they retain the clearest signs of their origin.
3. All so-called “revealed” religions consist mainly of three portions, a cosmogony more or less mythical, a history more or less falsified and a moral code more or less pure.
Al–Islam, it has been said, is essentially a fighting faith and never shows to full advantage save in the field. The faith and luxury of a wealthy capital, the debauchery and variety of vices which would spring up therein, naturally as weeds in a rich fallow, and the cosmopolitan views which suggest themselves in a meeting-place of nations, were sore trials to the primitive simplicity of the “Religion of Resignation”— the saving faith. Harun and his cousin-wife, as has been shown, were orthodox and even fanatical; but the Barmecides were strongly suspected of heretical leanings; and while the many — headed showed itself, as usual, violent, and ready to do battle about an Azan-call, the learned, who sooner or later leaven the masses, were profoundly dissatisfied with the dryness and barrenness of Mohammed’s creed, so acceptable to the vulgar, and were devising a series of schisms and innovations.
In the Tale of Tawaddud (vol. v. 189) the reader has seen a fairly extended catechism of the Creed (Dín), the ceremonial observances (Mazhab) and the apostolic practices (Sunnat) of the Shafi’í school which, with minor modifications, applies to the other three orthodox. Europe has by this time clean forgotten some tricks of her former bigotry, such as “Mawmet” (an idol!) and “Mahommerie” (mummery6), a place of Moslem worship: educated men no longer speak with Ockley of the “great impostor Mahomet,” nor believe with the learned and violent Dr. Prideaux that he was foolish and wicked enough to dispossess “certain poor orphans, the sons of an inferior artificer” (the Banú Najjár!). A host of books has attempted, though hardly with success, to enlighten popular ignorance upon a crucial point; namely, that the Founder of Al–Islam, like the Founder of Christianity, never pretended to establish a new religion. His claims, indeed, were limited to purging the “School of Nazareth” of the dross of ages and of the manifold abuses with which long use had infected its early constitution: hence to the unprejudiced observer his reformation seems to have brought it nearer the primitive and original doctrine than any subsequent attempts, especially the Judaizing tendencies of the so-called “Protestant” churches. The Meccan Apostle preached that the Hanafiyyah or orthodox belief, which he subsequently named Al–Islam, was first taught by Allah, in all its purity and perfection, to Adam and consigned to certain inspired volumes now lost; and that this primal Holy Writ received additions in the days of his descendants Shís (Seth) and Idris (Enoch?), the founder of the Sabian (not “Sabæan”) faith. Here, therefore, Al–Islam at once avoided the deplorable assumption of the Hebrews and the Christians — an error which has been so injurious to their science and their progress — of placing their “firstman” in circa B. C. 4000 or somewhat subsequent to the building of the Pyramids: the Pre-Adamite7 races and dynasties of the Moslems remove a great stumbling-block and square with the anthropological views of the present day. In process of time, when the Adamite religion demanded a restoration and a supplement, its pristine virtue was revived, restored and further developed by the books communicated to Abraham, whose dispensation thus takes the place of the Hebrew Noah and his Noachidæ. In due time the Torah, or Pentateuch, superseded and abrogated the Abrahamic dispensation; the “Zabúr” of David (a book not confined to the Psalms) reformed the Torah; the Injíl or Evangel reformed the Zabur and was itself purified, quickened and perfected by the Koran which means the Reading or the Recital. Hence Locke, with many others, held Moslems to be unorthodox, that is, anti-Trinitarian Christians who believe in the Immaculate Conception, in the Ascension and in the divine mission of Jesus; and when Priestley affirmed that “Jesus was sent from God,” all Moslems do the same. Thus they are, in the main point of doctrine connected with the Deity, simply Arians as opposed to Athanasians. History proves that the former was the earlier faith which, though formally condemned in A. D. 325 by Constantine’s Council of Nice, 8 overspread the Orient beginning with Eastern Europe, where Ulphilas converted the Goths; which extended into Africa with the Vandals, claimed a victim or martyr as late as in the sixteenth century 9 and has by no means died out in this our day.
The Talmud had been completed a full century before Mohammed’s time and the Evangel had been translated into Arabic; moreover travel and converse with his Jewish and Christian friends and companions must have convinced the Meccan Apostle that Christianity was calling as loudly for reform as Judaism had done. 10 An exaggerated Trinitarianism or rather Tritheism, a “Fourth Person” and Saint-worship had virtually dethroned the Deity; whilst Mariolatry had made the faith a religio muliebris, and superstition had drawn from its horrid fecundity an incredible number of heresies and monstrous absurdities. Even ecclesiastic writers draw the gloomiest pictures of the Christian Church in the fourth and seventh centuries, and one declares that the “Kingdom of Heaven had become a Hell.” Egypt, distracted by the blood — thirsty religious wars of Copt and Greek, had been covered with hermitages by a yens aeterna of semi-maniacal superstition. Syria, ever “feracious of heresies,” had allowed many of her finest tracts to be monopolised by monkeries and nunneries.11 After many a tentative measure Mohammed seems to have built his edifice upon two bases, the unity of the Godhead and the priesthood of the pater-familias. He abolished for ever the “sacerdos alter Christus” whose existence, as some one acutely said, is the best proof of Christianity, and whom all know to be its weakest point. The Moslem family, however humble, was to be the model in miniature of the State, and every father in Al–Islam was made priest and pontiff in his own house, able unaided to marry himself, to circumcise (to baptise as it were) his children, to instruct them in the law and canonically to bury himself (vol. viii. 22). Ritual, properly so called, there was none; congregational prayers were merely those of the individual en masse, and the only admitted approach to a sacerdotal order were the Olema or scholars learned in the legistic and the Mullah or schoolmaster. By thus abolishing the priesthood Mohammed reconciled ancient with modern wisdom. “Scito dominum,” said Cato, “pro totâ familiâ rem divinam facere”: “No priest at a birth, no priest at a marriage, no priest at a death,” is the aspiration of the present Rationalistic School.
The Meccan Apostle wisely retained the compulsory sacrament of circumcision and the ceremonial ablutions of the Mosaic law; and the five daily prayers not only diverted man’s thoughts from the world but tended to keep his body pure. These two institutions had been practiced throughout life by the Founder of Christianity; but the followers who had never seen him, abolished them for purposes evidently political and propagandist. By ignoring the truth that cleanliness is next to godliness they paved the way for such saints as Simon Stylites and Sabba who, like the lowest Hindu orders of ascetics, made filth a concominant and an evidence of piety: even now English Catholic girls are at times forbidden by Italian priests a frequent use of the bath as a sign post to the sin of “luxury.” Mohammed would have accepted the morals contained in the Sermon on the Mount much more readily than did the Jews from whom its matter was borrowed.12 He did something to abolish the use of wine, which in the East means only its abuse; and he denounced games of chance, well knowing that the excitable races of sub-tropical climates cannot play with patience, fairness or moderation. He set aside certain sums for charity to be paid by every Believer and he was the first to establish a poor-rate (Zakát): thus he avoided the shame and scandal of mendicancy which, beginning in the Catholic countries of Southern Europe, extends to Syria and as far East as Christianity is found. By these and other measures of the same import he made the ideal Moslem’s life physically clean, moderate and temperace.
But Mohammed, the “master mind of the age,” had, we must own, a “genuine prophetic power, a sinking of self in the Divine not distinguishable in kind from the inspiration of the Hebrew prophets,” especially in that puritanical and pharisaic narrowness which, with characteristic simplicity, can see no good outside its own petty pale. He had insight as well as outsight, and the two taught him that personal and external reformation were mean matters compared with elevating the inner man. In the “purer Faith,” which he was commissioned to abrogate and to quicken, he found two vital defects equally fatal to its energy and to its longevity. These were (and are) its egoism and its degradation of humanity. Thus it cannot be a “pleroma”: it needs a Higher Law.13 As Judaism promised the good Jew all manner of temporal blessings, issue, riches, wealth, honour, power, length of days, so Christianity offered the good Christian, as a bribe to lead a godly life, personal salvation and a future state of happiness, in fact the Kingdom of Heaven, with an alternative threat of Hell. It never rose to the height of the Hindu Brahmans and Lao–Tse (the “Ancient Teacher”); of Zeno the Stoic and his disciples the noble Pharisees14 who believed and preached that Virtue is its own reward. It never dared to say, “Do good for Good’s sake;”15 even now it does not declare with Cicero, “The sum of all is that what is right should be sought for its own sake, because it is right, and not because it is enacted.” It does not even now venture to say with Philo Judæus, “The good man seeks the day for the sake of the day, and the light for the light’s sake; and he labours to acquire what is good for the sake of the good itself, and not of anything else.” So far for the egotism, naive and unconscious, of Christianity, whose burden is, “Do good to escape Hell and gain Heaven.”
A no less defect in the “School of Galilee” is its low view of human nature. Adopting as sober and authentic history an Osirian-Hebrew myth which Philo and a host of Rabbis explain away, each after his own fashion, Christianity dwells, lovingly as it were, upon the “Fall” of man16 and seems to revel in the contemptible condition to which “original sin” condemned him; thus grovelling before God ad majorem Dei gloriam. To such a point was and is this carried that the Synod of Dort declared, Infantes infidelium morientes in infantiâ reprobatos esse statui mus; nay, many of the orthodox still hold a Christian babe dying unbaptised to be unfit for a higher existence, and some have even created a “limbo” expressly to domicile the innocents “of whom is the kingdom of Heaven.” Here, if any where, the cloven foot shows itself and teaches us that the only solid stratum underlying priestcraft is one composed of £ s. d.
And I never can now believe it, my Lord! (Bishop) we come to this earth Ready damned, with the seeds of evil sown quite so thick at our birth, sings Edwin Arnold.17 We ask, can infatuation or hypocrisy — for it must be the one or the other — go farther? But the Adamical myth is opposed to all our modern studies. The deeper we dig into the Earth’s “crust,” the lower are the specimens of human remains which occur; and hitherto not a single “find” has come to revive the faded glories of
Adam the goodliest man of men since born (!)
His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.
Thus Christianity, admitting, like Judaism, its own saints and santons, utterly ignores the progress of humanity, perhaps the only belief in which the wise man can take unmingled satisfaction. Both have proposed an originally perfect being with hyacinthine locks, from whose type all the subsequent humans are degradations physical and moral. We on the other hand hold, from the evidence of our senses, that early man was a savage very little superior to the brute; that during man’s millions of years upon earth there has been a gradual advance towards perfection, at times irregular and even retrograde, but in the main progressive; and that a comparison of man in the xixth century with the caveman18 affords us the means of measuring past progress and of calculating the future of humanity.
Mahommed was far from rising to the moral heights of the ancient sages: he did nothing to abate the egotism of Christianity; he even exaggerated the pleasures of its Heaven and the horrors of its Hell. On the other hand he did much to exalt human nature. He passed over the “Fall” with a light hand; he made man superior to the angels; he encouraged his fellow creatures to be great and good by dwelling upon their nobler not their meaner side; he acknowledged, even in this world, the perfectability of mankind, including womankind, and in proposing the loftiest ideal he acted unconsciously upon the grand dictum of chivalry — Honneur oblige.19 His prophets were mostly faultless men; and, if the “Pure of Allah” sinned, he “sinned against himself.” Lastly, he made Allah predetermine the career and fortunes, not only of empires, but of every created being; thus inculcating sympathy and tolerance of others, which is true humanity, and a proud resignation to evil as to good fortune. This is the doctrine which teaches the vulgar Moslem a dignity observed even by the “blind traveller,” and which enables him to display a moderation, a fortitude, and a self-command rare enough amongst the followers of the “purer creed.”
Christian historians explain variously the portentous rise of Al-Islam and its marvellous spread over vast regions, not only of pagans and idolators but of Christians. Prideaux disingenuously suggests that it “seems to have been purposely raised up by God, to be a scourge to the Christian Church for not living in accordance with their most holy religion.” The popular excuse is by the free use of the sword; this, however, is mere ignorance: in Mohammed’s day and early Al–Islam only actual fighters were slain:20 the rest were allowed to pay the Jizyah, or capitation-tax, and to become tributaries, enjoying almost all the privileges of Moslems. But even had forcible conversion been most systematically practiced, it would have afforded an insufficient explanation of the phenomenal rise of an empire which covered more ground in eighty years than Rome had gained in eight hundred. During so short a time the grand revival of Monotheism had consolidated into a mighty nation, despite their eternal blood-feuds, the scattered Arab tribes; a six-years’ campaign had conquered Syria, and a lustre or two utterly overthrew Persia, humbled the Græco-Roman, subdued Egypt and extended the Faith along northern Africa as far as the Atlantic. Within three generations the Copts of Nile-land had formally cast out Christianity, and the same was the case with Syria, the cradle of the Nazarene, and Mesopotamia, one of his strongholds, although both were backed by all the remaining power of the Byzantine empire. Northwestern Africa, which had rejected the idolatro-philosophic system of pagan and imperial Rome, and had accepted, after lukewarm fashion, the Arian Christianity imported by the Vandals, and the “Nicene mystery of the Trinity,” hailed with enthusiasm the doctrines of the Koran and has never ceased to be most zealous in its Islam. And while Mohammedanism speedily reduced the limits of Christendom by one-third, while through-out the Arabian, Saracenic and Turkish invasions whole Christian peoples embraced the monotheistic faith, there are hardly any instances of defection from the new creed and, with the exception of Spain and Sicily, it has never been suppressed in any land where once it took root. Even now, when Mohammedanism no longer wields the sword, it is spreading over wide regions in China, in the Indian Archipelago, and especially in Western and Central Africa, propagated only by self-educated individuals, trading travellers, while Christianity makes no progress and cannot exist on the Dark Continent without strong support from Government. Nor can we explain this honourable reception by the “licentiousness” ignorantly attributed to Al–Islam, one of the most severely moral of institutions; or by the allurements of polygamy and concubinage, slavery,21 and a “wholly sensual Paradise” devoted to eating, drinking22 and the pleasures of the sixth sense. The true and simple explanation is that this grand Reformation of Christianity was urgently wanted when it appeared, that it suited the people better than the creed which it superseded and that it has not ceased to be sufficient for their requirements, social, sexual and vital. As the practical Orientalist, Dr. Leitner, well observes from his own experience, “The Mohammedan religion can adapt itself better than any other and has adapted itself to circumstances and to the needs of the various races which profess it, in accordance with the spirit of the age.”23 Hence, I add, its wide diffusion and its impregnable position. “The dead hand, stiff and motionless,” is a forcible simile for the present condition of Al–Islam; but it results from limited and imperfect observation and it fails in the sine quâ non of similes and metaphors, a foundation of fact.
I cannot quit this subject without a passing reference to an admirably written passage in Mr. Palgrave’s travels24 which is essentially unfair to Al–Islam. The author has had ample opportunities of comparing creeds: of Jewish blood and born a Protestant, he became a Catholic and a Jesuit (Père Michel Cohen)25 in a Syrian convent; he crossed Arabia as a good Moslem and he finally returned to his premier amour, Anglicanism. But his picturesque depreciation of Mohammedanism, which has found due appreciation in more than one popular volume, 26 is a notable specimen of special pleading, of the ad captandum in its modern and least honest form. The writer begins by assuming the arid and barren Wahhabi-ism, which he had personally studied, as a fair expression of the Saving Faith. What should we say to a Moslem traveller who would make the Calvinism of the sourest Covenanter, model, genuine and ancient Christianity? What would sensible Moslems say to these propositions of Professor Maccovius and the Synod of Dort:— Good works are an obstacle to salvation. God does by no means will the salvation of all men: he does will sin and he destines men to sin, as sin? What would they think of the Inadmissible Grace, the Perseverance of the Elect, the Supralapsarian and the Sublapsarian and, finally, of a Deity the author of man’s existence, temptation and fall, who deliberately pre-ordains sin and ruin? “Father Cohen” carries out into the regions of the extreme his strictures on the one grand vitalising idea of Al–Islam, “There is no god but God;”27 and his deduction concerning the Pantheism of Force sounds unreal and unsound, compared with the sensible remarks upon the same subject by Dr. Badgers28 who sees the abstruseness of the doctrine and does not care to include it in hard and fast lines or to subject it to mere logical analysis. Upon the subject of “predestination” Mr. Palgrave quotes, not from the Koran, but from the Ahádís or Traditional Sayings of the Apostle; but what importance attaches to a legend in the Mischnah, or Oral Law, of the Hebrews utterly ignored by the Written Law? He joins the many in complaining that even the mention of “the love of God” is absent from Mohammed’s theology, burking the fact that it never occurs in the Jewish scriptures and that the genius of Arabic, like Hebrew, does not admit the expression: worse still, he keeps from his reader such Koranic passages as, to quote no other, “Allah loveth you and will forgive your sins” (iii. 29). He pities Allah for having “no son, companion or counsellor” and, of course, he must equally commiserate Jehovah. Finally his views of the lifelessness of Al–Islam are directly opposed to the opinions of Dr. Leitner and the experience of all who have lived in Moslem lands. Such are the ingenious but not ingenuous distortions of fact, the fine instances of the pathetic fallacy, and the noteworthy illustrations of the falsehood of extremes, which have engendered “Mohammedanism a Relapse: the worst form of Monotheism,”29 and which have been eagerly seized upon and further deformed by the authors of popular books, that is, volumes written by those who know little for those who know less.
In Al–Rashid’s day a mighty change had passed over the primitive simplicity of Al–Islam, the change to which faiths and creeds, like races and empires and all things sublunary, are subject. The proximity of Persia and the close intercourse with the Græco-Romans had polished and greatly modified the physiognomy of the rugged old belief: all manner of metaphysical subtleties had cropped up, with the usual disintegrating effect, and some of these threatened even the unity of the Godhead. Musaylimah and Karmat had left traces of their handiwork: the Mutazilites (separatists or secessors) actively propagated their doctrine of a created and temporal Koran. The Khárijí or Ibázi, who rejects and reviles Abú Turáb (Caliph Ali), contended passionately with the Shí‘ah who reviles and rejects the other three “Successors;” and these sectarians, favoured by the learned, and by the Abbasides in their jealous hatred of the Ommiades, went to the extreme length of the Ali–Iláhi — the God-makers of Ali — whilst the Dahrí and the Zindík, the Mundanist and the Agnoetic, proposed to sweep away the whole edifice. The neo-Platonism and Gnosticism which had not essentially affected Christendom,30 found in Al–Islam a rich fallow and gained strength and luxuriance by the solid materialism and conservatism of its basis. Such were a few of the distracting and resolving influences which Time had brought to bear upon the True Believer and which, after some half a dozen generations, had separated the several schisms by a wider breach than that which yawns between Orthodox, Romanist and Lutheran. Nor was this scandal in Al–Islam abated until the Tartar sword applied to it the sharpest remedy.
1 For further praises of his poetry and eloquence see the extracts from Fakhr al-Din of Rayy (an annalist of the xivth century A.D.) in De Sacy’s Chrestomathie Arabe, vol. i.
2 After this had been written I received “Babylonian, das reichste Land in der Vorzeit und das lohnendste Kolonisationsfeld für die Gegenwart,” by my learned friend Dr. Aloys Sprenger, Heidelberg, 1886.
3 The first school for Arabic literature was opened by Ibn Abbas, who lectured to multitudes in a valley near Meccah; this rude beginning was followed by public teaching in the great Mosque of Damascus. For the rise of the “Madrasah,” Academy or College’ see Introduct. to Ibn Khallikan pp. xxvii-xxxii.
4 When Ibn Abbád the Sáhib (Wazir) was invited to visit one of the Samanides, he refused, one reason being that he would require 400 camels to carry only his books.
5 This “Salmagondis” by Francois Beroalde de Verville was afterwards worked by Tabarin, the pseudo-Bruscambille d’Aubigné and Sorel.
6 I prefer this derivation to Strutt’s adopted by the popular, “mumm is said to be derived from the Danish word mumme, or momme in Dutch (Germ. = larva), and signifies disguise in a mask, hence a mummer.” In the Promptorium Parvulorum we have “Mummynge, mussacio, vel mussatus”: it was a pantomime in dumb show, e.g. “I mumme in a mummynge;” “Let us go mumme (mummer) to nyghte in women’s apparayle.” “Mask” and “Mascarade,” for persona, larva or vizard, also derive, I have noticed, from an Arabic word — Maskharah.
7 The Pre–Adamite doctrine has been preached with but scant success in Christendom. Peyrere, a French Calvinist, published (A.D. 1655) his “Praadamitæ, sive exercitatio supra versibus 12, 13, 14, cap. v. Epist. Paul. ad Romanos,” contending that Adam was called the first man because with him the law began. It brewed a storm of wrath and the author was fortunate to escape with only imprisonment.
8 According to Socrates the verdict was followed by a free fight of the Bishop-voters over the word “consubstantiality.”
9 Servetus burnt (in A.D. 1553 for publishing his Arian tractate) by Calvin, whom half-educated Roman Catholics in England firmly believe to have been a pederast. This arose I suppose, from his meddling with Rabelais who, in return for the good joke Rabie læsus, presented a better anagram, “Jan (a pimp or cuckold) Cul” (Calvinus).
10 There is no more immoral work than the “Old Testament.” Its deity is an ancient Hebrew of the worst type, who condones, permits or commands every sin in the Decalogue to a Jewish patriarch, quâ patriarch. He orders Abraham to murder his son and allows Jacob to swindle his brother; Moses to slaughter an Egyptian and the Jews to plunder and spoil a whole people, after inflicting upon them a series of plagues which would be the height of atrocity if the tale were true. The nations of Canaan are then extirpated. Ehud, for treacherously disembowelling King Eglon, is made judge over Israel. Jael is blessed above women (Joshua v. 24) for vilely murdering a sleeping guest; the horrid deeds of Judith and Esther are made examples to mankind; and David, after an adultery and a homicide which deserved ignominious death, is suffered to massacre a host of his enemies, cutting some in two with saws and axes and putting others into brick-kilns. For obscenity and impurity we have the tales of Onan and Tamar, Lot and his daughters, Amnon and his fair sister (2 Sam. xiii.), Absalom and his father’s concubines, the “wife of whoredoms” of Hosea and, capping all, the Song of Solomon. For the horrors forbidden to the Jews who, therefore, must have practiced them, see Levit. viii. 24, xi. 5, xvii. 7, xviii. 7, 9, 10, 12, 15, 17, 21, 23, and xx. 3. For mere filth what can be fouler than 1st Kings xviii. 27; Tobias ii. 11; Esther xiv. 2, Eccl. xxii. 2; Isaiah xxxvi. 12, Jeremiah iv. 5, and (Ezekiel iv. 12–15), where the Lord changes human ordure into “Cow-chips!” Ce qui excuse Dieu, said Henri Beyle, c’est qu’il n’existe pas — I add, as man has made him.
11 It was the same in England before the “Reformation,” and in France where, during our days, a returned priesthood collected in a few years “Peter-pence” to the tune of five hundred millions of francs. And these men wonder at being turned out!
12 Deutsch on the Talmud: Quarterly Review, 1867.
13 Evidently. Its cosmogony is a myth read literally: its history is, for the most part, a highly immoral distortion, and its ethics are those of the Talmudic Hebrews. It has done good work in its time; but now it shows only decay and decrepitude in the place of vigour and progress. It is dying hard, but it is dying of the slow poison of science.
14 These Hebrew Stoics would justly charge the Founder of Christianity with preaching a more popular and practical doctrine, but a degradation from their own far higher and more ideal standard.
15 Dr. Theodore Christlieb (“Modern Doubt and Christian Belief,” Edinburgh: Clark 1874) can even now write:—“So then the ‘full age’ to which humanity is at present supposed to have attained, consists in man’s doing good purely for goodness sake! Who sees not the hollowness of this bombastic talk. That man has yet to be born whose practice will be regulated by this insipid theory (dieser grauen theorie). What is the idea of goodness per se?
The abstract idea of goodness is not an effectual motive for well-doing” (p. 104). My only comment is c’est ignolile! His Reverence acts the part of Satan in Holy Writ, “Does Job serve God for naught?” Compare this selfish, irreligious, and immoral view with Philo Judæus (On the Allegory of the Sacred Laws, cap. 1viii.), to measure the extent of the fall from Pharisaism to Christianity. And the latter is still infected with the “bribe-and-threat doctrine:” I once immensely scandalised a Consular Chaplain by quoting the noble belief of the ancients, and it was some days before he could recover mental equanimity. The degradation is now inbred.
16 Of the doctrine of the Fall the heretic Marcion wrote: “The Deity must either be deficient in goodness if he willed, in prescience if he did not foresee, or in power if he did not prevent it.”
17 In his charming book, “India Revisited.”
18 This is the answer to those who contend with much truth that the moderns are by no means superior to the ancients of Europe: they look at the results of only 3000 years instead of 30,000 or 300,000.
19 As a maxim the saying is attributed to the Duc de Lévis, but it is much older.
20 There are a few, but only a few, frightful exceptions to this rule, especially in the case of Khálid bin Walíd, the Sword of Allah, and his ferocious friend, Darár ibn al-Azwar. But their cruel excesses were loudly blamed by the Moslems, and Caliph Omar only obeyed the popular voice in superseding the fierce and furious Khalid by the mild and merciful Abú Obaydah.
21 This too when St. Paul sends the Christian slave Onesimus back to his unbelieving (?) master, Philemon; which in Al–Islam would have created a scandal.
22 This too when the Founder of Christianity talks of “Eating and drinking at his table!” (Luke xxn. 29.) My notes have often touched upon this inveterate prejudice the result, like the soul-less woman of Al–Islam, of ad captandum, pious fraud. “No soul knoweth what joy of the eyes is reserved for the good in recompense for their works” (Koran xxxn. 17) is surely as “spiritual” as St. Paul (I Cor. ii., 9). Some lies, however are very long-lived, especially those begotten by self interest.
23 I have elsewhere noted its strict conservatism which, however, it shares with all Eastern faiths in the East. But progress, not quietism, is the principle which governs humanity and it is favoured by events of most different nature. In Egypt the rule of Mohammed Ali the Great and in Syria the Massacre of Damascus (1860) have greatly modified the constitution of Al-Islam throughout the nearer East.
24 Chapt. viii. “Narrative of a Year’s Journey through Central and Eastern Arabia;” London, Macmillan, 1865.
25 The Soc. Jesu has, I believe, a traditional conviction that converts of Israelitic blood bring only misfortune to the Order.
26 I especially allude to an able but most superficial book, the “Ten Great Religions” by James F. Clarke (Boston, Osgood, 1876), which caricatures and exaggerates the false portraiture of Mr. Palgrave. The writer’s admission that, “Something is always gained by learning what the believers in a system have to say in its behalf,” clearly shows us the man we have to deal with and the “depths of his self-consciousness.”
27 But how could the Arabist write such hideous grammar as “La Il h illa All h” for “Lá iláha (accus.) ill’ Allah”?
28 p. 996 “Muhammad” in vol. iii. Dictionary of Christian Biography. See also the Illustration of the Mohammedan Creed, etc., from Al–Ghazáli introduced (pp. 72–77) into Bell and Sons’ “History of the Saracens” by Simon Ockley, B.D. (London, 1878). I regret some Orientalist did not correct the proofs: everybody will not detect “Al–Lauh al-Mahfúz” (the Guarded Tablet) in “Allauh ho’hnehphoud” (p. 171); and this but a pinch out of a camel-load.
29 The word should have been Arianism. This “heresy” of the early Christians was much aided by the “Discipline of the Secret,” supposed to be of apostolic origin, which concealed from neophytes, catechumens and penitents all the higher mysteries, like the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Metastoicheiosis (transubstantiation), the Real Presence, the Eucharist and the Seven Sacraments; when Arnobius could ask, Quid Deo cum vino est? and when Justin, fearing the charge of Polytheism, could expressly declare the inferior nature of the Son to the Father. Hence the creed was appropriately called Symbol i.e., Sign of the Secret. This “mental reservation” lasted till the Edict of Toleration, issued by Constantine in the fourth century, held Christianity secure when divulging her “mysteries”; and it allowed Arianism to become the popular creed.
30 The Gnostics played rather a fantastic rôle in Christianity with their Demiurge, their Æonogony, their Æons by syzygies or couples, their Maio and Sabscho and their beatified bride of Jesus, Sophia Achamoth, and some of them descended to absolute absurdities, e.g., the Tascodrugitæ and the Pattalorhinchitæ who during prayers placed their fingers upon their noses or in their mouths, &c., reading Psalm cxli. 3.
The next point I propose to consider is the position of womanhood in The Nights, so curiously at variance with the stock ideas concerning the Moslem home and domestic policy still prevalent, not only in England, but throughout Europe. Many readers of these volumes have remarked to me with much astonishment that they find the female characters more remarkable for decision, action and manliness than the male; and are wonderstruck by their masterful attitude and by the supreme influence they exercise upon public and private life.
I have glanced at the subject of the sex in Al–Islam to such an extent throughout my notes that little remains here to be added. Women, all the world over are what men make them; and the main charm of Amazonian fiction is to see how they live and move and have their being without any masculine guidance. But it is the old ever-new fable
“Who drew the Lion vanquished? ’Twas a man!’’
The books of the Ancients, written in that stage of civilisation when the sexes are at civil war, make women even more than in real life the creatures of their masters: hence from the dawn of literature to the present day the sex has been the subject of disappointed abuse and eulogy almost as unmerited. Ecclesiastes, perhaps the strangest specimen of an “inspired volume” the world has yet produced, boldly declares “One (upright) man among a thousand I have found; but a woman among all have I not found” (vol. vii. 28), thus confirming the pessimism of Petronius:—
Femina nulla bona est, et si bona contigit ulla
Nescio quo fato res male facta bona est.
In the Psalms again (xxx. 15) we have the old sneer at the three insatiables, Hell, Earth and the Parts feminine (os vulvæ); and Rabbinical learning has embroidered these and other texts, producing a truly hideous caricature. A Hadis attributed to Mohammed runs, “They (women) lack wits and faith. When Eve was created Satan rejoiced saying:— Thou art half of my host, the trustee of my secret and my shaft wherewith I shoot and miss not!” Another tells us, “I stood at the gate of Heaven, and lo! most of its inmates were poor, and I stood at the gate of Hell, and lo! most of its inmates were women.’’1 “Take care of the glass-phials!” cried the Prophet to a camel-guide singing with a sweet voice. Yet the Meccan Apostle made, as has been seen, his own household produce two perfections. The blatant popular voice follows with such “dictes” as, “Women are made of nectar and poison”; “Women have long hair and short wits” and so forth. Nor are the Hindus behindhand. Woman has fickleness implanted in her by Nature like the flashings of lightning (Kathá s.s. i. 147); she is valueless as a straw to the heroic mind (169); she is hard as adamant in sin and soft as flour in fear (170) and, like the fly, she quits camphor to settle on compost (ii. 17). “What dependence is there in the crowing of a hen?” (women’s opinions) says the Hindi proverb; also “A virgin with grey hairs!” (i.e. a monster) and, “Wherever wendeth a fairy face a devil wendeth with her.” The same superficial view of holding woman to be lesser (and very inferior) man is taken generally by the classics; and Euripides distinguished himself by misogyny, although he drew the beautiful character of Alcestis. Simonides, more merciful than Ecclesiastes, after naming his swine-women, dog-women, cat-women, etc., ends the decade with the admirable bee-woman, thus making ten per cent. honest. In mediæval or Germanic Europe the doctrine of the Virgin mother gave the sex a status unknown to the Ancients except in Egypt, where Isis was the help-mate and completion of Osiris, in modern parlance “The Woman clothed with the Sun.” The kindly and courtly Palmerin of England, in whose pages “gentlemen may find their choice of sweet inventions and gentlewomen be satisfied with courtly expectations,” suddenly blurts out, “But in truth women are never satisfied by reason, being governed by accident or appetite” (chaps. xlix).
The Nights, as might be expected from the emotional East, exaggerate these views. Women are mostly “Sectaries of the god Wünsch”; beings of impulse, blown about by every gust of passion; stable only in instability; constant only in inconstancy. The false ascetic, the perfidious and murderous crone and the old hag-procuress who pimps like Umm Kulsum,2 for mere pleasure, in the luxury of sin, are drawn with an experienced and loving hand. Yet not the less do we meet with examples of the dutiful daughter, the model lover matronly in her affection, the devoted wife, the perfect mother, the saintly devotee, the learned preacher, Univira the chaste widow and the self-sacrificing heroic woman. If we find (vol. iii. 216) the sex described as:—
An offal cast by kites where’er they list,
and the studied insults of vol. iii. 318, we also come upon an admirable sketch of conjugal happiness (vol. vii.? 43); and, to mention no other, Shahryar’s attestation to Shahrazad’s excellence in the last charming pages of The Nights.3 It is the same with the Kathá whose praise and dispraise are equally enthusiastic; e.g., “Women of good family are guarded by their virtue, the sole efficient chamberlain; but the Lord himself can hardly guard the unchaste. Who can stem a furious stream and a frantic woman?” (i. 328). “Excessive love in woman is your only hero for daring” (i. 339). “Thus fair ones, naturally feeble, bring about a series of evil actions which engender discernment and aversion to the world; but here and there you will find a virtuous woman who adorneth a glorious house as the streak of the moon arrayeth the breadth of the Heavens” (i. 346). “So you see, King, honourable matrons are devoted to their husbands and ’tis not the case that women are always bad” (ii. 624). And there is true wisdom in that even balance of feminine qualities advocated by our Hindu–Hindi class-book the Toti-námeh or Parrot volume. The perfect woman has seven requisites. She must not always be merry (1) nor sad (2); she must not always be talking (3) nor silently musing (4); she must not always be adorning herself (5) nor neglecting her person (6); and, (7) at all times she must be moderate and self possessed.
The legal status of womankind in Al–Islam is exceptionally high, a fact of which Europe has often been assured, although the truth has not even yet penetrated into the popular brain. Nearly a century ago one Mirza Abú Tálib Khán, an Amildár or revenue collector, after living two years in London, wrote an “apology” for, or rather a vindication of, his countrywomen which is still worth reading and quoting.4 Nations are but superficial judges of one another: where customs differ they often remark only the salient distinctive points which, when examined, prove to be of minor importance. Europeans seeing and hearing that women in the East are “cloistered” as the Grecian matron was wont and; that wives may not walk out with their husbands and cannot accompany them to “balls and parties”; moreover, that they are always liable, like the ancient Hebrew, to the mortification of the “sister-wife,” have most ignorantly determined that they are mere serviles and that their lives are not worth living. Indeed, a learned lady, Miss Martineau, once visiting a Harem went into ecstasies of pity and sorrow because the poor things knew nothing of — say trigonometry and the use of the globes. Sonnini thought otherwise, and my experience, like that of all old dwellers in the East, is directly opposed to this conclusion.
I have noted (Night cmlxii.) that Mohammed, in the fifth year of his reign,5 after his ill-advised and scandalous marriage6 with his foster-daughter Zaynab, established the Hijáb or veiling of women. It was probably an exaggeration of local usage: a modified separation of the sexes, which extended and still extends even to the Badawi, must long have been customary in Arabian cities, and its object was to deliver the sexes from temptation, as the Koran says (xxxii. 32), “purer will this (practice) be for your hearts and their hearts.”7 The women, who delight in restrictions which tend to their honour, accepted it willingly and still affect it, they do not desire a liberty or rather a licence which they have learned to regard as inconsistent with their time-honoured notions of feminine decorum and delicacy, and they would think very meanly of a husband who permitted them to be exposed, like hetairæ, to the public gaze.8 As Zubayr Pasha, exiled to Gibraltar for another’s treason, said to my friend, Colonel Buckle, after visiting quarters evidently laid out by a jealous husband, “We Arabs think that when a man has a precious jewel, ’tis wiser to lock it up in a box than to leave it about for anyone to take.” The Eastern adopts the instinctive, the Western prefers the rational method. The former jealously guards his treasure, surrounds it with all precautions, fends off from it all risks and if the treasure go astray, kills it. The latter, after placing it en evidence upon an eminence in ball dress with back and bosom bared to the gaze of society, a bundle of charms exposed to every possible seduction, allows it to take its own way, and if it be misled, he kills or tries to kill the misleader. It is a fiery trial and the few who safely pass through it may claim a higher standpoint in the moral world than those who have never been sorely tried. But the crucial question is whether Christian Europe has done wisely in offering such temptations.
The second and main objection to Moslem custom is the marriage-system which begins with a girl being wedded to a man whom she knows only by hearsay. This was the habit of our forbears not many generations ago, and it still prevails amongst noble houses in Southern Europe, where a lengthened study of it leaves me doubtful whether the “love-marriage,” as it is called, or wedlock with an utter stranger, evidently the two extremes, is likely to prove the happier. The “sister-wife” is or would be a sore trial to monogamic races like those of Northern Europe where Caia, all but the equal of Caius in most points mental and physical and superior in some, not unfrequently proves herself the “man of the family,” the “only man in the boat.” But in the East, where the sex is far more delicate, where a girl is brought up in polygamy, where religious reasons separate her from her husband, during pregnancy and lactation, for three successive years; and where often enough like the Mormon damsel she would hesitate to “nigger it with a one-wife-man,” the case assumes a very different aspect and the load, if burden it be, falls comparatively light. Lastly, the “patriarchal household” is mostly confined to the grandee and the richard, whilst Holy Law and public opinion, neither of which can openly be disregarded, assign command of the household to the equal or first wife and jealously guard the rights and privileges of the others.
Mirza Abu Talib “the Persian Prince”9 offers six reasons why “the liberty of the Asiatic women appears less than that of the Europeans,” ending with,
I’ll fondly place on either eye
The man that can to this reply.
He then lays down eight points in which the Moslem wife has greatly the advantage over her Christian sisterhood; and we may take his first as a specimen. Custom, not contrary to law, invests the Mohammedan mother with despotic government of the homestead, slaves, servants and children, especially the latter: she alone directs their early education, their choice of faith, their marriage and their establishment in life; and in case of divorce she takes the daughters, the sons going to the sire. She has also liberty to leave her home, not only for one or two nights, but for a week or a fortnight, without consulting her husband; and whilst she visits a strange household, the master and all males above fifteen are forbidden the Harem. But the main point in favour of the Moslem wife is her being a “legal sharer”: inheritance is secured to her by Koranic law; she must be dowered by the bridegroom to legalise marriage and all she gains is secured to her; whereas in England a “Married Woman’s Property Act” was completed only in 1882 after many centuries of the grossest abuses.
Lastly, Moslems and Easterns in general study and intelligently study the art and mystery of satisfying the physical woman. In my Foreword I have noticed among barbarians the system of “making men,”10 that is, of teaching lads first arrived at puberty the nice conduct of the instrumentum paratum plantandis avibus: a branch of the knowledge-tree which our modern education grossly neglects, thereby entailing untold miseries upon individuals, families and generations. The mock virtue, the most immodest modesty of England and of the United States in the xixth century, pronounces the subject foul and fulsome:“Society” sickens at all details; and hence it is said abroad that the English have the finest women in Europe and least know how to use them. Throughout the East such studies are aided by a long series of volumes, many of them written by learned physiologists, by men of social standing and by religious dignitaries high in office. The Egyptians especially delight in aphrodisiac literature treating, as the Turks say, de la partie au-dessous de la taille; and from fifteen hundred to two thousand copies of a new work, usually lithographed in cheap form, readily sell off. The pudibund Lane makes allusion to and quotes (A. N. i. 216) one of the most out spoken, a 4to of 464 pages, called the Halbat al-Kumayt or “Race-Course of the Bay Horse,” a poetical and horsey term for grape-wine. Attributed by D’Herbelot to the Kazi Shams al-Din Mohammed, it is wholly upon the subject of wassail and women till the last few pages, when his reverence exclaims:—“This much, O reader, I have recounted, the better thou mayst know what to avoid;” and so forth, ending with condemning all he had praised.11 Even the divine and historian Jalál al-Dín al-Siyuti is credited with having written, though the authorship is much disputed, a work entitled, “Kitáb al-Ízáh fi ‘ilm al-Nikáh” =The Book of Exposition in the Science of Coition: my copy, a lithograph of 33 pages, undated, but evidently Cairene, begins with exclaiming “Alhamdolillah — Laud to the Lord who adorned the virginal bosom with breasts and who made the thighs of women anvils for the spear handles of men!” To the same amiable theologian are also ascribed the “Kitáb Nawázir al-Ayk fi al-Nayk” = Green Splendours of the Copse in Copulation, an abstract of the “Kitáb al-Wisháh fí fawáid al-Nikáh” = Book of the Zone on Coition-boon. Of the abundance of pornographic literature we may judge from a list of the following seven works given in the second page of the “Kitáb Rujú‘a al-Shaykh ila Sabáh fi ‘l-Kuwwat al-Báh12” = Book of Age-rejuvenescence in the power of Concupiscence: it is the work of Ahmad bin Sulayman, surnamed Ibn Kamál Pasha.
1. Kitáb al-Báh by Al–Nahli.
2. Kitáb al’-Ars wa al’-Aráis (Book of the Bridal and the Brides) by Al-Jáhiz.
3. Kitáb al-Kiyán (Maiden’s Book) by Ibn Hájib al-Nu’mán.
4. Kitáb al-Ízáh fí asrár al-Nikáh (Book of the Exposition on the Mysteries of married Fruition).
5. Kitáb Jámi’ al-Lizzah (The Compendium of Pleasure) by Ibn Samsamáni.
6. Kitáb Barján (Yarján?) wa Janáhib (??)13
7. Kitáb al-Munákahah wa al-Mufátahah fí Asnáf al-Jimá’ wa Álátih (Book of Carnal Copulation and the Initiation into the modes of Coition and its Instrumentation) by Aziz al-Din al-Masíhí.14
To these I may add the Lizzat al-Nisá (Pleasures of Women), a text-book in Arabic, Persian and Hindostani: it is a translation and a very poor attempt, omitting much from, and adding naught to, the famous Sanskrit work Ananga–Ranga (Stage of the Bodiless One i.e. Cupido) or Hindu Art of Love (Ars Amoris Indica).15 I have copies of it in Sanskrit and Maráthi,Guzrati and Hindostani: the latter is an unpaged 8vo of pp. 66, including eight pages of most grotesque illustrations showing the various san (the Figuræ Veneris or positions of copulation), which seem to be the triumphs of contortionists. These pamphlets lithographed in Bombay are broad cast over the land.16
It must not be supposed that such literature is purely and simply aphrodisiacal. The learned Sprenger, a physician as well as an Arabist, says (Al–Mas’údi p. 384) of a tractate by the celebrated Rhazes in the Leyden Library, “The number of curious observations, the correct and practical ideas and the novelty of the notions of Eastern nations on these subjects, which are contained in this book, render it one of the most important productions of the medical literature of the Arabs.” I can conscientiously recommend to the Anthropologist a study of the “Kutub al-Báh.”
1 “Kitáb al-‘Unwán fí Makáid al-Niswán” = The Book of the Beginnings on the Wiles of Womankind (Lane i. 38).
2 This person was one of the Amsál or Exampla of the Arabs. For her first thirty years she whored; during the next three decades she pimped for friend and foe, and, during the last third of her life, when bed-ridden by age and infirmities, she had a buckgoat and a nanny tied up in her room and solaced herself by contemplating their amorous conflicts.
3 And modern Moslem feeling upon the subject has apparently undergone a change. Ashraf Khan, the Afghan poet, sings,
Since I, the parted one, have come the secrets of the world to ken,
Women in hosts therein I find, but few (and very few) of men.
And the Osmanli proverb is, “Of ten men nine are women!”
4 His Persian paper “On the Vindication of the Liberties of the Asiatic Women” was translated and printed in the Asiatic Annual Register for 1801 (pp. 100–107); it is quoted by Dr. Jon. Scott (Introd. vol. i. p. xxxiv. et seq.) and by a host of writers. He also wrote a book of Travels translated by Prof. Charles Stewart in 1810 and re-issued (3 vols. 8vo.) in 1814.
5 The beginning of which I date from the Hijrah, lit.= the separation, popularly “The Flight.” Stating the case broadly, it has become the practice of modern writers to look upon Mohammed as an honest enthusiast at Meccah and an unscrupulous despot at Al — Medinah, a view which appears to me eminently unsound and unfair. In a private station the Meccan Prophet was famed as a good citizen, teste his title Al–Amín =The Trusty. But when driven from his home by the pagan faction, he became de facto as de jure a king: nay, a royal pontiff; and the preacher was merged in the Conqueror of his foes and the Commander of the Faithful. His rule, like that of all Eastern rulers, was stained with blood; but, assuming as true all the crimes and cruelties with which Christians charge him and which Moslems confess, they were mere blots upon a glorious and enthusiastic life, ending in a most exemplary death, compared with the tissue of horrors and havock which the Law and the Prophets attribute to Moses, to Joshua, to Samuel and to the patriarchs and prophets by express command of Jehovah.
6 It was not, however, incestuous: the scandal came from its ignoring the Arab “pundonor.”
7 The “opportunism” of Mohammed has been made a matter of obloquy by many who have not reflected and discovered that time-serving is the very essence of “Revelation.” Says the Rev. W. Smith (“Pentateuch,” chaps. xiii.), “As the journey (Exodus) proceeds, so laws originate from the accidents of the way,” and he applies this to successive decrees (Numbers xxvi. 32–36; xxvii. 8–11 and xxxvi. 1–9), holding it indirect internal evidence of Mosaic authorship (?). Another tone, however, is used in the case of Al–Islam. “And now, that he might not stand in awe of his wives any longer, down comes a revelation,” says Ockley in his bluff and homely style, which admits such phrases as, “the imposter has the impudence to say.” But why, in common honesty, refuse to the Koran the concessions freely made to the Torah? It is a mere petitio principii to argue that the latter is “inspired” while the former is not, moreover, although we may be called upon to believe things beyond Reason, it is hardly fair to require our belief in things contrary to Reason.
8 This is noticed in my wife’s volume on The Inner Life of Syria, chaps. xii. vol. i. 155.
9 Mirza preceding the name means Mister and following it Prince. Addison’s “Vision of Mirza” (Spectator, No. 159) is therefore “The Vision of Mister.”
10 And women. The course of instruction lasts from a few days to a year and the period of puberty is fêted by magical rites and often by some form of mutilation. It is described by Waitz, Réclus and Schoolcraft, Páchue-Loecksa, Collins, Dawson, Thomas, Brough Smyth, Reverends Bulmer and Taplin, Carlo Wilhelmi, Wood, A. W. Howitt, C. Z. Muhas (Mem. de la Soc. Anthrop. Allemande, 1882, p. 265) and by Professor Mantegazza (chaps. i.) for whom see infra.
11 Similarly certain Australian tribes act scenes of rape and pederasty saying to the young, If you do this you will be killed.
12 “Báh,” is the popular term for the amatory appetite: hence such works are called Kutub al-Báh, lit. = Books of Lust.
13 I can make nothing of this title nor can those whom I have consulted: my only explanation is that they may be fanciful names proper.
14 Amongst the Greeks we find erotic specialists (1) Aristides of the Libri Milesii; (2) Astyanassa, the follower of Helen who wrote on androgvnisation; (3) Cyrene, the artist of amatory Tabellæ or ex-votos offered to Priapus; (4) Elephantis, the poetess who wrote on Varia concubitus genera; (5) Evemerus, whose Sacra Historia, preserved in a fragment of Q. Eunius, was collected by Hieronymus Columnar (6) Hemitheon of the Sybaritic books, (7) Musæus, the Iyrist; (8) Niko, the Samian girl; (9) Philænis, the poetess of Amatory Pleasures, in Athen. viii. 13, attributed to Polycrates the Sophist; (10) Protagorides, Amatory Conversations; (11) Sotades, the Mantinæan who, says Suidas, wrote the poem “Cinædica”; (12) Sphodrias the Cynic, his Art of Love; and (13) Trepsicles, Amatory Pleasures. Amongst the Romans we have Aedituus, Annianus (in Ausonius), Anser, Bassus Eubius, Helvius Cinna, Lævius (of Io and the Erotopægnion), Memmius, Cicero (to Cerellia), Pliny the Younger, Sabellus (de modo coeundi); Sisenna, the pathic Poet and translator of Milesian Fables and Sulpitia, the modest erotist. For these see the Dictionnaire Érotique of Blondeau pp. ix. and x. (Paris, Liseux, 1885).
15 It has been translated from the Sanskrit and annotated by A.F.F. and B.F.R. Reprint Cosmopoli: mdccclxxxv.: for the Kama Shastra Society, London and Benares, and for private circulation only. The first print has been exhausted and a reprint will presently appear.
16 The local press has often proposed to abate this nuisance of erotic publication which is most debasing to public morals already perverted enough. But the “Empire of Opinion” cares very little for such matters and, in the matter of the “native press,” generally seems to seek only a quiet life. In England if erotic literature were not forbidden by law, few would care to sell or to buy it, and only the legal pains and penalties keep up the phenomenally high prices.
Here it will be advisable to supplement what was said in my Foreword (p. xiii.) concerning the turpiloquium of The Nights. Readers who have perused the ten volumes will probably agree with me that the naïve indecencies of the text are rather gaudis-serie than prurience; and, when delivered with mirth and humour, they are rather the “excrements of wit” than designed for debauching the mind. Crude and indelicate with infantile plainness; even gross and, at times, “nasty” in their terrible frankness, they cannot be accused of corrupting suggestiveness or subtle insinuation of vicious sentiment. Theirs is a coarseness of language, not of idea; they are indecent, not depraved; and the pure and perfect naturalness of their nudity seems almost to purify it, showing that the matter is rather of manners than of morals. Such throughout the East is the language of every man, woman and child, from prince to peasant, from matron to prostitute: all are as the naïve French traveller said of the Japanese: “si grossiers qu’ils ne sçavent nommer les choses que par leur nom.” This primitive stage of language sufficed to draw from Lane and Burckhardt strictures upon the “most immodest freedom of conversation in Egypt,” where, as all the world over, there are three several stages for names of things and acts sensual. First we have the mot cru, the popular term, soon followed by the technical and scientific, and, lastly, the literary or figurative nomenclature, which is often much more immoral because more attractive, suggestive and seductive than the “raw word.” And let me observe that the highest civilisation is now returning to the language of nature. In La Glu of M. J. Richepin, a triumph of the realistic school, we find such “archaic” expressions as la petée, putain, foutue à la six-quatre-dix; un facétieuse pétarade; tu t’es foutue de, etc. Eh vilain bougre! and so forth.1 To those critics who complain of these raw vulgarisms and puerile indecencies in The Nights I can reply only by quoting the words said to have been said by Dr. Johnson to the lady who complained of the naughty words in his dictionary —“You must have been looking for them, Madam!”
But I repeat (p. xiv.) there is another element in The Nights and that is one of absolute obscenity utterly repugnant to English readers, even the least prudish. It is chiefly connected with what our neighbours call le vice contre nature — as if anything can be contrary to nature which includes all things.2 Upon this subject I must offer details, as it does not enter into my plan to ignore any theme which is interesting to the Orientalist and the Anthropologist. And they, methinks, do abundant harm who, for shame or disgust, would suppress the very mention of such matters: in order to combat a great and growing evil deadly to the birth-rate — the mainstay of national prosperity — the first requisite is careful study. As Albert Bollstoedt, Bishop of Ratisbon, rightly says. — Quia malum non evitatum nisi cognitum, ideo necesse est cognoscere immundiciem coitus et multa alla quæ docentur in isto libro. Equally true are Professor Mantegazza’s words:3 Cacher les plates du cœur humain au nom de la pudeur, ce n’est au contraire qu’hypocrisie ou peur. The late Mr. Grote had reason to lament that when describing such institutions as the far-famed of Thebes, the Sacred Band annihilated at Chaeroneia, he was compelled to a reticence which permitted him to touch only the surface of the subject. This was inevitable under the present rule of Cant4 in a book intended for the public: but the same does not apply to my version of The Nights, and now I proceed to discuss the matter sérieusement, honnêtement, historiquement; to show it in decent nudity not in suggestive fig-leaf or feuille de vigne.
1 The Spectator (No. 119) complains of an “infamous piece of good breeding,” because “men of the town, and particularly those who have been polished in France, make use of the most coarse and uncivilised words in our language and utter themselves often in such a manner as a clown would blush to hear.”
2 See the Novelle of Bandello the Bishop (Tome 1, Paris, Liseux, 1879, small in 18) where the dying fisherman replies to his confessor, “Oh! Oh! your reverence, to amuse myself with boys was natural to me as for a man to eat and drink; yet you asked me if I sinned against nature!” Amongst the wiser ancients sinning contra naturam was not marrying and begetting children.
3 Avis au Lecteur “L’Amour dans l’Humanité,” par P. Mantegazza, traduit par Emilien Chesneau, Paris, Fetscherin et Chuit, 1886.
4 See “H. B.” (Henry Beyle, French Consul at Civita Vecchia) par un des Quarante H. B.” (Prosper Mérimee), Elutheropolis, An mdccclxiv. De l’Imposture du Nazaréen.
The “execrabilis familia pathicorum” first came before me by a chance of earlier life. In 1845, when Sir Charles Napier had conquered and annexed Sind, despite a fraction (mostly venal) which sought favour with the now defunct “Court of Directors to the Honourable East India Company,” the veteran began to consider his conquest with a curious eye. It was reported to him that Karáchi, a townlet of some two thousand souls and distant not more than a mile from camp, supported no less than three lupanars or borders, in which not women but boys and eunuchs, the former demanding nearly a double price,1 lay for hire. Being then the only British officer who could speak Sindi, I was asked indirectly to make enquiries and to report upon the subject; and I undertook the task on express condition that my report should not be forwarded to the Bombay Government, from whom supporters of the Conqueror’s policy could expect scant favour, mercy or justice. Accompanied by a Munshi, Mirza Mohammed Hosayn of Shiraz, and habited as a merchant, Mirza Abdullah the Bushiri2 passed many an evening in the townlet, visited all the porneia and obtained the fullest details, which were duly despatched to Government House. But the “Devil’s Brother” presently quitted Sind leaving in his office my unfortunate official: this found its way with sundry other reports3 to Bombay and produced the expected result. A friend in the Secretariat informed me that my summary dismissal from the service had been formally proposed by one of Sir Charles Napier’s successors, whose decease compels me parcere sepulto. But this excess of outraged modesty was not allowed.
Subsequent enquiries in many and distant countries enabled me to arrive at the following conclusions:—
1. There exists what I shall call a “Sotadic Zone,” bounded westwards by the northern shores of the Mediterranean (N. Lat. 43 ) and by the southern (N. Lat. 30 ). Thus the depth would be 780 to 800 miles including meridional France, the Iberian Peninsula, Italy and Greece, with the coast-regions of Africa from Marocco to Egypt.
2. Running eastward the Sotadic Zone narrows, embracing Asia Minor, Mesopotamia and Chaldæa, Afghanistan, Sind, the Punjab and Kashmir.
3. In Indo–China the belt begins to broaden, enfolding China, Japan and Turkistan.
4. It then embraces the South Sea Islands and the New World where, at the time of its discovery, Sotadic love was, with some exceptions, an established racial institution.
5. Within the Sotadic Zone the Vice is popular and endemic, held at the worst to be a mere peccadillo, whilst the races to the North and South of the limits here defined practice it only sporadically amid the opprobrium of their fellows who, as a rule, are physically incapable of performing the operation and look upon it with the liveliest disgust.
Before entering into topographical details concerning pederasty, which I hold to be geographical and climatic, not racial, I must offer a few considerations of its cause and origin. We must not forget that the love of boys has its noble, sentimental side. The Platonists and pupils of the Academy, followed by the Sufis or Moslem Gnostics, held such affection, pure as ardent, to be the beau idéal which united in man’s soul the creature with the Creator. Professing to regard youths as the most cleanly and beautiful objects in this phenomenal world, they declared that by loving and extolling the chef-d’œuvre, corporeal and intellectual, of the Demiurgus, disinterestedly and without any admixture of carnal sensuality, they are paying the most fervent adoration to the Causa causans. They add that such affection, passing as it does the love of women, is far less selfish than fondness for and admiration of the other sex which, however innocent, always suggest sexuality;4 and Easterns add that the devotion of the moth to the taper is purer and more fervent than the Bulbul’s love for the Rose. Amongst the Greeks of the best ages the system of boy-favourites was advocated on considerations of morals and politics. The lover undertook the education of the beloved through precept and example, while the two were conjoined by a tie stricter than the fraternal. Hieronymus the Peripatetic strongly advocated it because the vigorous disposition of youths and the confidence engendered by their association often led to the overthrow of tyrannies. Socrates declared that “a most valiant army might be composed of boys and their lovers; for that of all men they would be most ashamed to desert one another.” And even Virgil, despite the foul flavour of Formosum pastor Corydon, could write:—
Nisus amore pio pueri.
The only physical cause for the practice which suggests itself to me and that must be owned to be purely conjectural, is that within the Sotadic Zone there is a blending of the masculine and feminine temperaments, a crasis which elsewhere occurs only sporadically. Hence the male féminisme whereby the man becomes patiens as well as agens, and the woman a tribade, a votary of mascula Sappho,5 Queen of Frictrices or Rubbers. 6 Prof. Mantegazza claims to have discovered the cause of this pathological love, this perversion of the erotic sense, one of the marvellous list of amorous vagaries which deserve, not prosecution but the pitiful care of the physician and the study of the psychologist. According to him the nerves of the rectum and the genitalia, in all cases closely connected, are abnormally so in the pathic, who obtains, by intromission, the venereal orgasm which is usually sought through the sexual organs. So amongst women there are tribads who can procure no pleasure except by foreign objects introduced a posteriori. Hence his threefold distribution of sodomy; (1) Peripheric or anatomical, caused by an unusual distribution of the nerves and their hyperæsthesia; (2) Luxurious, when love a tergo is preferred on account of the narrowness of the passage; and (3) the Psychical. But this is evidently superficial: the question is what causes this neuropathy, this abnormal distribution and condition of the nerves.7
As Prince Bismarck finds a moral difference between the male and female races of history, so I suspect a mixed physical temperament effected by the manifold subtle influences massed together in the word climate. Something of the kind is necessary to explain the fact of this pathological love extending over the greater portion of the habitable world, without any apparent connection of race or media, from the polished Greek to the cannibal Tupi of the Brazil. Walt Whitman speaks of the ashen grey faces of onanists: the faded colours, the puffy features and the unwholesome complexion of the professed pederast with his peculiar cachetic expression, indescribable but once seen never forgotten, stamp the breed, and Dr. G. Adolph is justified in declaring “Alle Gewohnneits-paederasten erkennen sich einander schnell, oft met einen Thick.” This has nothing in common with the féminisme which betrays itself in the pathic by womanly gait, regard and gesture: it is a something sui generic; and the same may be said of the colour and look of the young priest who honestly refrains from women and their substitutes. Dr. Tardieu, in his well-known work, “Étude Medico-régale sur les Attentats aux Mœurs,” and Dr. Adolph note a peculiar infundibuliform disposition of the “After” and a smoothness and want of folds even before any abuse has taken place, together with special forms of the male organs in confirmed pederasts. But these observations have been rejected by Caspar, Hoffman, Brouardel and Dr. J. H. Henry Coutagne (Notes sur la Sodomie, Lyon, 1880), and it is a medical question whose discussion would here be out of place.
The origin of pederasty is lost in the night of ages; but its historique has been carefully traced by many writers, especially Virey,8 Rosenbaum 9 and M. H. E. Meier. 10 The ancient Greeks who, like the modern Germans, invented nothing but were great improvers of what other races invented, attributed the formal apostolate of Sotadism to Orpheus, whose stigmata were worn by the Thracian women;
— Omnemque refugerat Orpheus
Fœmineam venerem; —
Ille etiam Thracum populis fuit auctor, amorem
In teneres transferre mares: citraque juventam
Ætatis breve ver, et primos carpere flores.
Ovid Met. x. 79–85.
Euripides proposed Laïus father of Oedipus as the inaugurator, whereas Timæus declared that the fashion of making favourites of boys was introduced into Greece from Crete, for Malthusian reasons said Aristotle (Pol. ii. 10), attributing it to Minos. Herodotus, however, knew far better, having discovered (ii. c. 80) that the Orphic and Bacchic rites were originally Egyptian. But the Father of History was a traveller and an annalist rather than an archæologist and he tripped in the following passage (i. c. 135), “As soon as they (the Persians) hear of any luxury, they instantly make it their own, and hence, among other matters, they have learned from the Hellenes a passion for boys” (“unnatural lust,” says modest Rawlinson). Plutarch (De Malig, Herod. xiii.)11 asserts with much more probability that the Persians used eunuch boys according to the Mos Græciæ, long before they had seen the Grecian main.
In the Holy Books of the Hellenes, Homer and Hesiod, dealing with the heroic ages, there is no trace of pederasty, although, in a long subsequent generation, Lucian suspected Achilles and Patroclus as he did Orestes and Pylades, Theseus and Pirithous. Homer’s praises of beauty are reserved for the feminines, especially his favourite Helen. But the Dorians of Crete seem to have commended the abuse to Athens and Sparta and subsequently imported it into Tarentum, Agrigentum and other colonies. Ephorus in Strabo (x. 4 § 21) gives a curious account of the violent abduction of beloved boys ({Greek}) by the lover ({Greek}); of the obligations of the ravisher ({Greek}) to the favourite ({Greek})12 and of the “marriage-ceremonies” which lasted two months. See also Plato, Laws i. c. 8. Servius (Ad Æneid. x. 325) informs us “De Cretensibus accepimus, quod in amore puerorum intemperantes fuerunt, quod postea in Lacones et in totam Græciam translatum est.” The Cretans and afterwards their apt pupils the Chalcidians held it disreputable for a beautiful boy to lack a lover. Hence Zeus, the national Doric god of Crete, loved Ganymede;13 Apollo, another Dorian deity, loved Hyacinth, and Hercules, a Doric hero who grew to be a sun-god, loved Hylas and a host of others: thus Crete sanctified the practice by the examples of the gods and demigods. But when legislation came, the subject had qualified itself for legal limitation and as such was undertaken by Lycurgus and Solon, according to Xenophon (Lac. ii. 13), who draws a broad distinction between the honest love of boys and dishonest ({Greek}) lust. They both approved of pure pederastía, like that of Harmodius and Aristogiton; but forbade it with serviles because degrading to a free man. Hence the love of boys was spoken of like that of women (Plato: Phædrus; Repub. vi. c. 19 and Xenophon, Synop. iv. 10), e.g., “There was once a boy, or rather a youth, of exceeding beauty and he had very many lovers”— this is the language of Hafiz and Sa’adi. Æschylus, Sophocles and Euripides were allowed to introduce it upon the stage, for “many men were as fond of having boys for their favourites as women for their mistresses; and this was a frequent fashion in many well-regulated cities of Greece.” Poets like Alcæus, Anacreon, Agathon and Pindar affected it and Theognis sang of a “beautiful boy in the flower of his youth.” The statesmen Aristides and Themistocles quarrelled over Stesileus of Teos; and Pisistratus loved Charmus who first built an altar to Puerile Eros, while Charmus loved Hippias son of Pisistratus. Demosthenes the Orator took into keeping a youth called Cnosion greatly to the indignation of his wife. Xenophon loved Clinias and Autolycus; Aristotle, Hermeas, Theodectes14 and others; Empedocles, Pausanias; Epicurus, Pytocles; Aristippus, Eutichydes and Zeno with his Stoics had a philosophic disregard for women, affecting only pederastía. A man in Athenæus (iv. c. 40) left in his will that certain youths he had loved should fight like gladiators at his funeral; and Charicles in Lucian abuses Callicratidas for his love of “sterile pleasures.” Lastly there was the notable affair of Alcibiades and Socrates, the “sanctus pæderasta”15 being violemment soupçonné when under the mantle:— non semper sine plagâ ab eo surrexit. Athenæus (v. c. 13) declares that Plato represents Socrates as absolutely intoxicated with his passion for Alcibiades.16 The Ancients seem to have held the connection impure, or Juvenal would not have written:—
Inter Socraticos notissima fossa cinædos,
followed by Firmicus (vii. 14) who speaks of “Socratici pædicones.” It is the modern fashion to doubt the pederasty of the master of Hellenic Sophrosyne, the “Christian before Christianity;” but such a world-wide term as Socratic love can hardly be explained by the lucus-a-non-lucendo theory. We are overapt to apply our nineteenth century prejudices and prepossessions to the morality of the ancient Greeks who would have specimen’d such squeamishness in Attic salt.
The Spartans, according to Agnon the Academic (confirmed by Plato, Plutarch and Cicero), treated boys and girls in the same way before marriage: hence Juvenal (xi. 173) uses ‘‘Lacedæmonius” for a pathic and other writers apply it to a tribade. After the Peloponnesian War, which ended in B.C. 404, the use became merged in the abuse. Yet some purity must have survived, even amongst the Bœotians who produced the famous Narcissus,17 described by Ovid (Met. iii. 339); —
Multi ilium juvenes, multæ cupiere puellæ;
Nulli ilium juvenes, nullæ tetigere puellæ:18
for Epaminondas, whose name is mentioned with three beloveds, established the Holy Regiment composed of mutual lovers, testifying the majesty of Eros and preferring to a discreditable life a glorious death. Philip’s redactions on the fatal field of Chaeroneia form their fittest epitaph. At last the Athenians, according to Æschines, officially punished Sodomy with death; but the threat did not abolish bordels of boys, like those of Karáchi; the Porneia and Pornoboskeia, where slaves and pueri venales “stood,” as the term was, near the Pnyx, the city walls and a certain tower, also about Lycabettus (Æsch. contra Tim.); and paid a fixed tax to the state. The pleasures of society in civilised Greece seem to have been sought chiefly in the heresies of love — Hetairesis19 and Sotadism.
It is calculated that the French of the sixteenth century had four hundred names for the parts genital and three hundred for their use in coition. The Greek vocabulary is not less copious, and some of its pederastic terms, of which Meier gives nearly a hundred, and its nomenclature of pathologic love are curious and picturesque enough to merit quotation.
To live the life of Abron (the Argive), i.e. that of a, pathic or passive lover.
The Agathonian song.
Aischrourgía = dishonest love, also called Akolasía, Akrasía, Arrenokoitía, etc.
Alcinoan youths, or “non conformists,”
In cute curandâ plus æquo operate Juventus.
Alegomenos, the “unspeakable,” as the pederast was termed by the Council of Ancyra: also the Agrios, Apolaustus and Akolastos.
Androgyne, of whom Ansonius wrote (Epig. lxviii. 15):—
Ecce ego sum factus femina de puero.
Badas and badízein = clunes torquens: also Bátalos= a catamite.
Catapygos, Katapygosyne = puerarius and catadactylium from Dactylion, the ring, used in the sense of Nerissa’s, but applied to the corollarium puerile.
Cinædus (Kínaidos), the active lover ({Greek}) derived either from his kinetics or quasi {Greek} = dog modest. Also Spatalocinædus (lasciviâ fluens) = a fair Ganymede.
Chalcidissare (Khalkidizein), from Chalcis in Eubœa, a city famed for love à posteriori; mostly applied to le léchement des testicules by children.
Clazomenae = the buttocks, also a sotadic disease, so called from the Ionian city devoted to Aversa Venus; also used of a pathic,
— et tergo femina pube vir est.
Embasicoetas, prop. a link-boy at marriages, also a “night-cap” drunk before bed and lastly an effeminate; one who perambulavit omnium cubilia (Catullus). See Encolpius’ pun upon the Embasicete in Satyricon, cap. iv.
Epipedesis, the carnal assault.
Geiton lit. “neighbour” the beloved of Encolpius, which has produced the Fr. Giton = Bardache, Ital. bardascia from the Arab. Baradaj, a captive, a slave; the augm. form is Polygeiton.
Hippias (tyranny of) when the patient (woman or boy) mounts the agent. Aristoph. Vesp. 502. So also Kelitizein = peccare superne or equum agitare supernum of Horace.
Mokhthería, depravity with boys.
Paidika, whence pædicare (act.) and pædicari (pass.): so in the Latin poet:—
PEnelopes primam DIdonis prima sequatur,
Et primam CAni, syllaba prima REmi.
Pathikos, Pathicus, a passive, like Malakos (malacus, mollis, facilis), Malchio, Trimalchio (Petronius), Malta, Maltha and in Hor. (Sat. ii. 25)
Malthinus tunicis demissis ambulat.
Praxis = the malpractice.
Pygisma = buttockry, because most actives end within the nates, being too much excited for further intromission.
Phœnicissare ({Greek})= cunnilingere in tempore menstruum, quia hoc vitium in Phœnicia generate solebat (Thes. Erot. Ling. Latinæ); also irrumer en miel.
Phicidissare, denotat actum per canes commissum quando lambunt cunnos vel testiculos (Suetonius): also applied to pollution of childhood.
Samorium flores (Erasmus, Prov. xxiii ) alluding to the androgynic prostitutions of Samos.
Siphniassare ({Greek}, from Siphnos, hod. Sifanto Island) = digito podicem fodere ad pruriginem restinguendam, says Erasmus (see Mirabeau’s Erotika Biblion, Anoscopie).
Thrypsis = the rubbing.
Pederastía had in Greece, I have shown, its noble and ideal side: Rome, however, borrowed her malpractices, like her religion and polity, from those ultra-material Etruscans and debauched with a brazen face. Even under the Republic Plautus (Casin. ii. 21) makes one of his characters exclaim, in the utmost sang-froid, “Ultro te, amator, apage te a dorso meo!” With increased luxury the evil grew and Livy notices (xxxix. 13), at the Bacchanalia, plura virorum inter sese quam fœminarum stupra. There were individual protests; for instance, S. Q. Fabius Maximus Servilianus (Consul U.C. 612) punished his son for dubia castitas; and a private soldier, C. Plotius, killed his military Tribune, Q. Luscius, for unchaste proposals. The Lex Scantinia (Scatinia?), popularly derived from Scantinius the Tribune and of doubtful date (B.C. 226?), attempted to abate the scandal by fine and the Lex Julia by death; but they were trifling obstacles to the flood of infamy which surged in with the Empire. No class seems then to have disdained these “sterile pleasures:” l’on n’attachoit point alors à cette espèce d’amour une note d’infamie, comme en païs de chrétienté, says Bayle under “Anacreon.” The great Cæsar, the Cinaedus calvus of Catullus, was the husband of all the wives and the wife of all the husbands in Rome (Suetonius, cap. Iii.); and his soldiers sang in his praise, Gallias Cæsar, subegit, Nicomedes Cæsarem (Suet. cies. xlix.); whence his sobriquet “Fornix Birthynicus.” Of Augustus the people chaunted
Videsne ut Cinædus orbem digito temperet?
Tiberius, with his pisciculi and greges exoletorum, invented the Symplegma or nexus of Sellarii, agentes et patientes, in which the spinthriæ (lit. women’s bracelets) were connected in a chain by the bond of flesh20 (Seneca Quaest. Nat.). Of this refinement which in the earlier part of the nineteenth century was renewed by sundry Englishmen at Naples, Ausonius wrote (Epig. cxix. I),
Tres uno in lecto: stuprum duo perpetiuntur;
And Martial had said (xii. 43)
Quo symplegmate quinque copulentur;
Qua plures teneantur a catena; etc.
Ausonius recounts of Caligula he so lost patience that he forcibly entered the priest M. Lepidus, before the sacrifice was completed. The beautiful Nero was formally married to Pythagoras (or Doryphoros) and afterwards took to wife Sporus who was first subjected to castration of a peculiar fashion; he was then named Sabina after the deceased spouse and claimed queenly honours. The “Othonis et Trajani pathici” were famed; the great Hadrian openly loved Antinous,and the wild debaucheries of Heliogabalus seem only to have amused, instead of disgusting, the Romans.
Uranopolis allowed public lupanaria where adults and meritorii pueri, who began their career as early as seven years, stood for hire: the inmates of these cauponæ wore sleeved tunics and dalmatics like women. As in modern Egypt pathic boys, we learn from Catullus, haunted the public baths. Debauchées had signals like freemasons whereby they recognised one another. The Greek Skematízein was made by closing the hand to represent the scrotum and raising the middle finger as if to feel whether a hen had eggs, tâter si les poulettes ont l’œuf: hence the Athenians called it Catapygon or sodomite and the Romans digitus impudicus or infamis, the “medical finger”21 of Rabelais and the Chiromantists. Another sign was to scratch the head with the minimus — digitulo caput scabere Juv. ix. 133).22 The prostitution of boys was first forbidden by Domitian; but Saint Paul, a Greek, had formally expressed his abomination of Le Vice (Rom. i. 26; i. Cor. vi. 8); and we may agree with Grotius (de Verit. ii. c. 13) that early Christianity did much to suppress it. At last the Emperor Theodosius punished it with fire as a profanation, because sacro-sanctum esse debetur hospitium virilis animæ.
In the pagan days of imperial Rome her literature makes no difference between boy and girl. Horace naïvely says (Sat. ii. 118):—
Ancilla aut verna est praesto puer;
and with Hamlet, but in a dishonest sense:—
— Man delights me not
Nor woman neither.
Similarly the Spaniard Martial, who is a mine of such pederastic allusions (xi. 46):—
Sive puer arrisit, sive puella tibi.
That marvellous Satyricon which unites the wit of Molière23 with the debaucheries of Piron, whilst the writer has been described, like Rabelais, as purissimus in impuritate, is a kind of Triumph of Pederasty. Geiton the hero, a handsome, curly-pated hobbledehoy of seventeen, with his câlinerie and wheedling tongue, is courted like one of the sequor sexus: his lovers are inordinately jealous of him and his desertion leaves deep scars upon the heart. But no dialogue between man and wife in extremis could be more pathetic than that in the scene where shipwreck is imminent. Elsewhere every one seems to attempt his neighbour: a man alte succinctus assails Ascyltos; Lycus, the Tarentine skipper, would force Encolpius and so forth: yet we have the neat and finished touch (cap. vii.):—“The lamentation was very fine (the dying man having manumitted his slaves) albeit his wife wept not as though she loved him. How were it had he not behaved to her so well?”
Erotic Latin glossaries24 give some ninety words connected with pederasty and some, which “speak with Roman simplicity,” are peculiarly expressive. “Averse Venus” alludes to women being treated as boys: hence Martial, translated by Piron, addresses Mistress Martial (x. 44):—
Teque puta, cunnos, uxor, habere duos.
The capillatus or comatus is also called calamistratus, the darling curled with crisping-irons; and he is an Effeminatus, i.e., qui muliebria patitur; or a Delicatus, slave or eunuch for the use of the Draucus, Puerarius (boy-lover) or Dominus (Mart. xi. 7I). The Divisor is so called from his practice Hillas dividere or cædere, something like Martial’s cacare mentulam or Juvenal’s Hesternæ occurrere cænæ. Facere vicibus (Juv. vii. 238), incestare se invicem or mutuum facere (Plaut. Trin. ii. 437), is described as “a puerile vice,” in which the two take turns to be active and passive: they are also called Gemelli and Fratres = compares in pædicatione. Illicita libido is = præpostera seu postica Venus, and is expressed by the picturesque phrase indicare (seu incurvare) aliquem. Depilatus, divellere pilos, glaber, laevis and nates pervellere are allusions to the Sotadic toilette. The fine distinction between demittere and dejicere caput are worthy of a glossary, while Pathica puella, puera, putus, pullipremo pusio, pygiaca sacra, quadrupes, scarabæus and smerdalius explain themselves.
From Rome the practice extended far and wide to her colonies, especially the Provincia now called Provence. Athenæus (xii. 26) charges the people of Massilia with “acting like women out of luxury”; and he cites the saying “May you sail to Massilia!” as if it were another Corinth. Indeed the whole Keltic race is charged with Le Vice by Aristotle (Pol. ii. 66), Strabo (iv. 199) and Diodorus Siculus (v. 32). Roman civilisation carried pederasty also to Northern Africa, where it took firm root, while the negro and negroid races to the South ignore the erotic perversion, except where imported by foreigners into such kingdoms as Bornu and Haussa. In old Mauritania, now Marocco,25 the Moors proper are notable sodomites; Moslems, even of saintly houses, are permitted openly to keep catamites, nor do their disciples think worse of their sanctity for such licence: in one case the English wife failed to banish from the home “that horrid boy.”
Yet pederasty is forbidden by the Koran. In chapter iv. 20 we read: “And if two (men) among you commit the crime, then punish them both,” the penalty being some hurt or damage by public reproach, insult or scourging. There are four distinct references to Lot and the Sodomites in chapters vii. 78; xi. 77–84; xxvi. 160-174 and xxix. 28–35. In the first the prophet commissioned to the people says, “Proceed ye to a fulsome act wherein no creature hath foregone ye? Verily ye come to men in lieu of women lustfully.” We have then an account of the rain which made an end of the wicked and this judgment on the Cities of the Plain is repeated with more detail in the second reference. Here the angels, generally supposed to be three, Gabriel, Michael and Raphael, appeared to Lot as beautiful youths, a sore temptation to the sinners and the godly man’s arm was straitened concerning his visitors because he felt unable to protect them from the erotic vagaries of his fellow townsmen. He therefore shut his doors and from behind them argued the matter: presently the riotous assembly attempted to climb the wall when Gabriel, seeing the distress of his host, smote them on the face with one of his wings and blinded them so that all moved off crying for aid and saying that Lot had magicians in his house. Hereupon the “Cities” which, if they ever existed, must have been Fellah villages, were uplifted: Gabriel thrust his wing under them and raised them so high that the inhabitants of the lower heaven (the lunar sphere) could hear the dogs barking and the cocks crowing. Then came the rain of stones: these were clay pellets baked in hell-fire, streaked white and red, or having some mark to distinguish them from the ordinary and each bearing the name of its destination like the missiles which destroyed the host of Abrahat al-Ashram.26 Lastly the “Cities” were turned upside down and cast upon earth. These circumstantial unfacts are repeated at full length in the other two chapters; but rather as an instance of Allah’s power than as a warning against pederasty, which Mohammed seems to have regarded with philosophic indifference. The general opinion of his followers is that it should be punished like fornication unless the offenders made a public act of penitence. But here, as in adultery, the law is somewhat too clement and will not convict unless four credible witnesses swear to have seen rem in re. I have noticed (vol. i. 211) the vicious opinion that the Ghilmán or Wuldán, the beautiful boys of Paradise, the counter parts of the Houris, will be lawful catamites to the True Believers in a future state of happiness: the idea is nowhere countenanced in Al–Islam; and, although I have often heard debauchées refer to it, the learned look upon the assertion as scandalous.
As in Marocco so the Vice prevails throughout the old regencies of Algiers, Tunis and Tripoli and all the cities of the South Mediterranean seaboard, whilst it is unknown to the Nubians, the Berbers and the wilder tribes dwelling inland. Proceeding Eastward we reach Egypt, that classical region of all abominations which, marvellous to relate, flourished in closest contact with men leading the purest of lives, models of moderation and morality, of religion and virtue. Amongst the ancient Copts Le Vice was part and portion of the Ritual and was represented by two male partridges alternately copulating (Interp. in Priapi Carm. xvii). The evil would have gained strength by the invasion of Cambyses (B.C. 524), whose armies, after the victory over Psammenitus. settled in the Nile–Valley and held it, despite sundry revolts, for some hundred and ninety years. During these six generations the Iranians left their mark upon Lower Egypt and especially, as the late Rogers Bey proved, upon the Fayyum, the most ancient Delta of the Nile.27 Nor would the evil be diminished by the Hellenes who, under Alexander the Great, “liberator and saviour of Egypt” (B.C. 332), extinguished the native dynasties: the love of the Macedonian for Bagoas the Eunuch being a matter of history. From that time and under the rule of the Ptolemies the morality gradually decayed; the Canopic orgies extended into private life and the debauchery of the men was equalled only by the depravity of the women. Neither Christianity nor Al–Islam could effect a change for the better; and social morality seems to have been at its worst during the past century when Sonnini travelled (A.D. 1717). The French officer, who is thoroughly trustworthy, draws the darkest picture of the widely spread criminality, especially of the bestiality and the sodomy (chaps. xv.), which formed the “delight of the Egyptians.” During the Napoleonic conquest Jaubert in his letter to General Bruix (p. 19) says, “Les Arabes et les Mamelouks ont traité quelques-uns de nos prisonniers comme Socrate traitait, dit-on, Alcibiade. Il fallait périr ou y passer.” Old Anglo–Egyptians still chuckle over the tale of Sa’id Pasha and M. de Ruyssenaer, the high-dried and highly respectable Consul–General for the Netherlands, who was solemnly advised to make the experiment, active and passive, before offering his opinion upon the subject. In the present age extensive intercourse with Europeans has produced not a reformation but a certain reticence amongst the upper classes: they are as vicious as ever, but they do not care for displaying their vices to the eyes of mocking strangers.
Syria and Palestine, another ancient focus of abominations, borrowed from Egypt and exaggerated the worship of androgynic and hermaphroditic deities. Plutarch (De Iside) notes that the old Nilotes held the moon to be of “male-female sex,” the men sacrificing to Luna and the women to Lunus.28 Isis also was a hermaphrodite, the idea being that Aether or Air (the lower heavens) was the menstruum of generative nature; and Damascius explained the tenet by the all-fruitful and prolific powers of the atmosphere. Hence the fragment attributed to Orpheus, the song of Jupiter (Air):—
All things from Jove descend
Jove was a male, Jove was a deathless bride;
For men call Air, of two fold sex, the Jove.
Julius Pirmicus relates that “The Assyrians and part of the Africians” (along the Mediterranean seaboard?) “hold Air to be the chief element and adore its fanciful figure (imaginata figura), consecrated under the name of Juno or the Virgin Venus.
Their companies of priests cannot duly serve her unless they effeminate their faces, smooth their skins and disgrace their masculine sex by feminine ornaments. You may see men in their very temples amid general groans enduring miserable dalliance and becoming passives like women (viros muliebria pati), and they expose, with boasting and ostentation, the pollution of the impure and immodest body.” Here we find the religious significance of eunuchry. It was practiced as a religious rite by the Tympanotribas or Gallus,29 the castrated votary of Rhea or Bona Mater, in Phrygia called Cybele, self mutilated but not in memory of Atys; and by a host of other creeds: even Christianity, as sundry texts show,30 could not altogether cast out the old possession. Here too we have an explanation of Sotadic love in its second stage, when it became, like cannibalism, a matter of superstition. Assuming a nature-implanted tendency, we see that like human sacrifice it was held to be the most acceptable offering to the God-goddess in the Orgia or sacred ceremonies, a something set apart for peculiar worship. Hence in Rome as in Egypt the temples of Isis (Inachidos limina, Isiacæ sacraria Lunæ) were centres of sodomy, and the religious practice was adopted by the grand priestly castes from Mesopotamia to Mexico and Peru.
We find the earliest written notices of the Vice in the mythical destruction of the Pentapolis (Gen. xix.), Sodom, Gomorrah (= ‘Amirah, the cultivated country), Adama, Zeboïm and Zoar or Bela. The legend has been amply embroidered by the Rabbis who make the Sodomites do everything à l’envers: e.g., if a man were wounded he was fined for bloodshed and was compelled to fee the offender; and if one cut off the ear of a neighbour’s ass he was condemned to keep the animal till the ear grew again. The Jewish doctors declare the people to have been a race of sharpers with rogues for magistrates, and thus they justify the judgment which they read literally. But the traveller cannot accept it. I have carefully examined the lands at the North and at the South of that most beautiful lake, the so-called Dead Sea, whose tranquil loveliness, backed by the grand plateau of Moab, is an object of admiration to all save patients suffering from the strange disease “Holy Land on the Brain.”31 But I found no traces of craters in the neighbourhood, no signs of vulcanism, no remains of “meteoric stones”: the asphalt which named the water is a mineralised vegetable washed out of the limestones, and the sulphur and salt are brought down by the Jordan into a lake without issue. I must therefore look upon the history as a myth which may have served a double purpose. The first would be to deter the Jew from the Malthusian practices of his pagan predecessors, upon whom obloquy was thus cast, so far resembring the scandalous and absurd legend which explained the names of the children of Lot by Pheiné and Thamma as “Moab”.(Mu-ab) the water or semen of the father, and “Ammon” as mother’s son, that is, bastard. The fable would also account for the abnormal fissure containing the lower Jordan and the Dead Sea, which the late Sir R. I. Murchison used wrong-headedly to call a “Volcano of Depression”: this geological feature, that cuts off the river-basin from its natural outlet, the Gulf of Eloth (Akabah), must date from myriads of years before there were “Cities of the Plains.” But the main object of the ancient lawgiver, Osarsiph, Moses or the Moseidæ, was doubtless to discountenance a perversion prejudicial to the increase of population. And he speaks with no uncertain voice, Whoso lieth with a beast shall surely be put to death (Exod. xxii. 19): If a man lie with mankind as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them (Levit. xx. 13; where v.v. 15–16 threaten with death man and woman who lie with beasts). Again, There shall be no whore of the daughters of Israel nor a sodomite of the sons of Israel (Deut. xxii. 5).
The old commentators on the Sodom-myth are most unsatisfactory, e.g. Parkhurst, s.v. Kadesh. “From hence we may observe the peculiar propriety of this punishment of Sodom and of the neighbouring cities. By their sodomitical impurities they meant to acknowledge the Heavens as the cause of fruitfulness independently upon, and in opposition to, Jehovah;32 therefore Jehovah, by raining upon them not genial showers but brimstone from heaven, not only destroyed the inhabitants, but also changed all that country, which was before as the garden of God, into brimstone and salt that is not sown nor beareth, neither any grass groweth therein.” It must be owned that to this Pentapolis was dealt very hard measure for religiously and diligently practicing a popular rite which a host of cities even in the present day, as Naples and Shiraz, to mention no others, affect for simple luxury and affect with impunity. The myth may probably reduce itself to very small proportions, a few Fellah villages destroyed by a storm, like that which drove Brennus from Delphi.
The Hebrews entering Syria found it religionised by Assyria and Babylonia, whence Accadian Ishtar had passed west and had become Ashtoreth, Ashtaroth or Ashirah,33 the Anaitis of Armenia, the Phœnician Astarte and the Greek Aphrodite, the great Moon- goddess,34 who is queen of Heaven and Love. In another phase she was Venus Mylitta = the Procreatrix, in Chaldaic Mauludatá and in Arabic Moawallidah, she who bringeth forth. She was worshipped by men habited as women and vice-versâ; for which reason in the Torah (Deut. xx. 5) the sexes are forbidden to change dress. The male prostitutes were called Kadesh the holy, the women being Kadeshah, and doubtless gave themselves up to great excesses. Eusebius (De bit. Const. iii. c. 55) describes a school of impurity at Aphac, where women and “men who were not men” practiced all manner of abominations in honour of the Demon (Venus). Here the Phrygian symbolism of Kybele and Attis (Atys) had become the Syrian Ba’al Tammuz and Astarte, and the Grecian Dionæa and Adonis, the anthropomorphic forms of the two greater lights. The site, Apheca, now Wady al-Afik on the route from Bayrut to the Cedars, is a glen of wild and wondrous beauty, fitting frame-work for the loves of goddess and demigod: and the ruins of the temple destroyed by Constantine contrast with Nature’s work, the glorious fountain, splendidior vitro, which feeds the River Ibrahim and still at times Adonis runs purple to the sea.35
The Phœnicians spread this androgynic worship over Greece. We find the consecrated servants and votaries of Corinthian Aphrodite called Hierodouli (Strabo viii. 6), who aided the ten thousand courtesans in gracing the Venus-temple: from this excessive luxury arose the proverb popularised by Horace. One of the headquarters of the cult was Cyprus where, as Servius relates (Ad Æn. ii. 632), stood the simulacre of a bearded Aphrodite with feminine body and costume, sceptered and mitred like a man. The sexes when worshipping it exchanged habits and here the virginity was offered in sacrifice: Herodotus (i. c. 199) describes this defloration at Babylon but sees only the shameful part of the custom which was a mere consecration of a tribal rite. Everywhere girls before marriage belong either to the father or to the clan and thus the maiden paid the debt due to the public before becoming private property as a wife. The same usage prevailed in ancient Armenia and in parts of Ethiopia; and Herodotus tells us that a practice very much like the Babylonian “is found also in certain parts of the Island of Cyprus:” it is noticed by Justin (xviii. c. 5) and probably it explains the “Succoth Benoth” or Damsels’ booths which the Babylonians bans planted to the cities of Samaria.36 The Jews seem very successfully to have copied the abominations of their pagan neighbours, even in the matter of the “dog.”37 In the reign of wicked Rehoboam (B.C. 975) “There were also sodomites in the land and they did according to all the abominations of the nations which the Lord cast out before the children of Israel” (I Kings xiv. 20). The scandal was abated by zealous King Asa (B.C. 958) whose grandmother38 was high-priestess of Priapus (princeps in sacris Priapi): he took away the sodomites out of the land” (I Kings XV. 12). Yet the prophets were loud in their complaints, especially the so-called Isaiah (B.C. 760), “except the Lord of Hosts had left to us a very small remnant, we should have been as Sodom (i. 9); and strong measures were required from good King Josiah (B.C. 641) who amongst other things, “brake down the houses of the sodomites that were by the house of the Lord, where the women wove hangings for the grove” (2 Kings xxiii. 7). The bordels of boys (pueris alienis adhæseverunt) appear to have been near the Temple.
Syria has not forgotten her old “praxis.” At Damascus I found some noteworthy cases amongst the religious of the great Amawi Mosque. As for the Druses we have Burckhardt’s authority (Travels in Syria, etc., p. 202), “unnatural propensities are very common amongst them.”
The Sotadic Zone covers the whole of Asia Minor and Mesopotamia now occupied by the “unspeakable Turk,” a race of born pederasts; and in the former region we first notice a peculiarity of the feminine figure, the mammæ inclinatæ, jacentes et pannosæ, which prevails over all this part of the belt. Whilst the women to the North and South have, with local exceptions, the mammæ stantes of the European virgin,39 those of Turkey, Persia, Afghanistan and Kashmir lose all the fine curves of the bosom, sometimes even before the first child; and after it the hemispheres take the form of bags. This cannot result from climate only; the women of Marathá-land, inhabiting a damper and hotter region than Kashmir, are noted for fine firm breasts even after parturition. Le Vice of course prevails more in the cities and towns of Asiatic Turkey than in the villages; yet even these are infected; while the nomad Turcomans contrast badly in this point with the Gypsies, those Badawin of India. The Kurd population is of Iranian origin, which means that the evil is deeply rooted: I have noted in The Nights that the great and glorious Saladin was a habitual pederast. The Armenians, as their national character is, will prostitute themselves for gain but prefer women to boys: Georgia supplied Turkey with catamites whilst Circassia sent concubines. In Mesopotamia the barbarous invader has almost obliterated the ancient civilisation which is ante-dated only by the Nilotic: the mysteries of old Babylon nowhere survive save in certain obscure tribes like the Mandæans, the Devil-worshippers and the Alí-iláhi. Entering Persia we find the reverse of Armenia; and, despite Herodotus, I believe that Iran borrowed her pathologic love from the peoples of the Tigris–Euphrates Valley and not from the then insignificant Greeks. But whatever may be its origin, the corruption is now bred in the bone. It begins in boyhood and many Persians account for it by paternal severity. Youths arrived at puberty find none of the facilities with which Europe supplies fornication. Onanism40 is to a certain extent discouraged by circumcision, and meddling with the father’s slave-girls and concubines would be risking cruel punishment if not death. Hence they use each other by turns, a “puerile practice” known as Alish–Takish, the Lat. facere vicibus or mutuum facere. Temperament, media, and atavism recommend the custom to the general; and after marrying and begetting heirs, Paterfamilias returns to the Ganymede. Hence all the odes of Hafiz are addressed to youths, as proved by such Arabic exclamations as ‘Afáka ’llah = Allah assain thee (masculine)41: the object is often fanciful but it would be held coarse and immodest to address an imaginary girl.42 An illustration of the penchant is told at Shiraz concerning a certain Mujtahid, the head of the Shi’ah creed, corresponding with a prince-archbishop in Europe. A friend once said to him, “There is a question I would fain address to your Eminence but I lack the daring to do so.” “Ask and fear not,” replied the Divine. “It is this, O Mujtahid! Figure thee in a garden of roses and hyacinths with the evening breeze waving the cypress-heads, a fair youth of twenty sitting by thy side and the assurance of perfect privacy. What, prithee, would be the result?” The holy man bowed the chin of doubt upon the collar of meditation; and, too honest to lie, presently whispered, “Allah defend me from such temptation of Satan!” Yet even in Persia men have not been wanting who have done their utmost to uproot the Vice: in the same Shiraz they speak of a father who, finding his son in flagrant delict, put him to death like Brutus or Lynch of Galway. Such isolated cases, however, can effect nothing. Chardin tells us that houses of male prostitution were common in Persia whilst those of women were unknown: the same is the case in the present day and the boys are prepared with extreme care by diet, baths, depilation, unguents and a host of artists in cosmetics.43 Le Vice is looked upon at most as a peccadillo and its mention crops up in every jest-book. When the Isfahan man mocked Shaykh Sa’adi by comparing the bald pates of Shirazian elders to the bottom of a lotá, a brass cup with a wide-necked opening used in the Hammam, the witty poet turned its aperture upwards and thereto likened the well-abused podex of an Isfahani youth. Another favourite piece of Shirazian “chaff” is to declare that when an Isfahan father would set up his son in business he provides him with a pound of rice, meaning that he can sell the result as compost for the kitchen-garden, and with the price buy another meal: hence the saying Khakh-i-pái káhú = the soil at the lettuce-root. The Isfahanis retort with the name of a station or halting-place between the two cities where, under presence of making travellers stow away their riding-gear, many a Shirazi had been raped: hence “Zín o takaltú tú bi-bar” = carry within saddle and saddle-cloth! A favourite Persian punishment for strangers caught in the Harem or Gynæceum is to strip and throw them and expose them to the embraces of the grooms and negro-slaves. I once asked a Shirazi how penetration was possible if the patient resisted with all the force of the sphincter muscle: he smiled and said, “Ah, we Persians know a trick to get over that; we apply a sharpened tent peg to the crupper bone (os coccygis) and knock till he opens.” A well known missionary to the East during the last generation was subjected to this gross insult by one of the Persian Prince-governors, whom he had infuriated by his conversion-mania: in his memoirs he alludes to it by mentioning his “dishonoured person;” but English readers cannot comprehend the full significance of the confession. About the same time Shaykh Nasr, Governor of Bushire, a man famed for facetious blackguardism, used to invite European youngsters serving in the Bombay Marine and ply them with liquor till they were insensible. Next morning the middies mostly complained that the champagne had caused a curious irritation and soreness in la parse-posse. The same Eastern “Scrogin” would ask his guests if they had ever seen a man-cannon (Adami-top); and, on their replying in the negative, a grey-beard slave was dragged in blaspheming and struggling with all his strength. He was presently placed on all fours and firmly held by the extremities; his bag-trousers were let down and a dozen peppercorns were inserted ano suo: the target was a sheet of paper held at a reasonable distance; the match was applied by a pinch of cayenne in the nostrils; the sneeze started the grapeshot and the number of hits on the butt decided the bets. We can hardly wonder at the loose conduct of Persian women perpetually mortified by marital pederasty. During the unhappy campaign of 1856–57 in which, with the exception of a few brilliant skirmishes, we gained no glory, Sir James Outram and the Bombay army showing how badly they could work, there was a formal outburst of the Harems; and even women of princely birth could not be kept out of the officers’ quarters.
The cities of Afghanistan and Sind are thoroughly saturated with Persian vice, and the people sing
Kadr-i-kus Aughán dánad, kadr-i-kunrá Kábuli:
The Afghans are commercial travellers on a large scale and each caravan is accompanied by a number of boys and lads almost in woman’s attire with kohl’d eyes and rouged cheeks, long tresses and henna’d fingers and toes, riding luxuriously in Kajáwas or camel-panniers: they are called Kúch-i safari, or travelling wives, and the husbands trudge patiently by their sides. In Afghanistan also a frantic debauchery broke out amongst the women when they found incubi who were not pederasts; and the scandal was not the most insignificant cause of the general rising at Cabul (Nov. 1841), and the slaughter of Macnaghten, Burnes and other British officers.
Resuming our way Eastward we find the Sikhs and the Moslems of the Panjab much addicted to Le Vice, although the Himalayan tribes to the north and those lying south, the Rájputs and Marathás, ignore it. The same may be said of the Kash mirians who add another Kappa to the tria Kakista, Kappado clans, Kretans, and Kilicians: the proverb says,
Agar kaht-i-mardum uftad, az ín sih jins kam gírí;
Eki Afghán, dovvum Sindí45 siyyum badjins-i-Kashmírí:
Though of men there be famine yet shun these three-
Afghan, Sindi and rascally Kashmírí.
M. Louis Daville describes the infamies of Lahore and Lakhnau where he found men dressed as women, with flowing locks under crowns of flowers, imitating the feminine walk and gestures, voice and fashion of speech, and ogling their admirers with all the coquetry of bayadères. Victor Jacquemont’s Journal de Voyage describes the pederasty of Ranjít Singh, the “Lion of the Panjáb,” and his pathic Guláb Singh whom the English inflicted upon Cashmir as ruler by way of paying for his treason. Yet the Hindus, I repeat, hold pederasty in abhorrence and are as much scandalised by being called Gánd-márá (anus-beater) or Gándú (anuser) as Englishmen would be. During the years 1843–44 my regiment, almost all Hindu Sepoys of the Bombay Presidency, was stationed at a purgatory called Bandar Ghárrá,46 a sandy flat with a scatter of verdigris-green milk-bush some forty miles north of Karáchi the headquarters. The dirty heap of mud-and-mat hovels, which represented the adjacent native village, could not supply a single woman; yet only one case of pederasty came to light and that after a tragical fashion some years afterwards. A young Brahman had connection with a soldier comrade of low caste and this had continued till, in an unhappy hour, the Pariah patient ventured to become the agent. The latter, in Arab. Al-Fá‘il =the “doer,” is not an object of contempt like Al–Mafúl = the “done”; and the high caste sepoy, stung by remorse and revenge, loaded his musket and deliberately shot his paramour. He was hanged by court martial at Hyderabad and, when his last wishes were asked, he begged in vain to be suspended by the feet; the idea being that his soul, polluted by exiting “below the waist,” would be doomed to endless trans-migrations through the lowest forms of life.
Beyond India, I have stated, the Sotadic Zone begins to broaden out, embracing all China, Turkistan and Japan. The Chinese, as far as we know them in the great cities, are omnivorous and omnifutuentes: they are the chosen people of debauchery, and their systematic bestiality with ducks, goats, and other animals is equalled only by their pederasty. Kæmpfer and Orlof Torée (Voyage en Chine) notice the public houses for boys and youths in China and Japan. Mirabeau (L’Anandryne) describes the tribadism of their women in hammocks. When Pekin was plundered the Harems contained a number of balls a little larger than the old musket-bullet, made of thin silver with a loose pellet of brass inside somewhat like a grelot;47 these articles were placed by the women between the labia and an up-and-down movement on the bed gave a pleasant titillation when nothing better was to be procured. They have every artifice of luxury, aphrodisiacs, erotic perfumes and singular applications. Such are the pills which, dissolved in water and applied to the glans penis, cause it to throb and swell: so according to Amerigo Vespucci American women could artificially increase the size of their husbands’ parts.48 The Chinese bracelet of caoutchouc studded with points now takes the place of the Herisson, or Annulus hirsutus,49 which was bound between the glans and prepuce. Of the penis succedaneus, that imitation of the Arbor vitæ or Soter Kosmou, which the Latins called phallus and fascinum,50 the French godemiché and the Italians passatempo and diletto (whence our “dildo”), every kind abounds, varying from a stuffed “French letter” to a cone of ribbed horn which looks like an instrument of torture. For the use of men they have the “merkin,”51 a heart-shaped article of thin skin stuffed with cotton and slit with an artificial vagina: two tapes at the top and one below lash it to the back of a chair. The erotic literature of the Chinese and Japanese is highly developed and their illustrations are often facetious as well as obscene. All are familiar with that of the strong man who by a blow with his enormous phallus shivers a copper pot; and the ludicrous contrast of the huge-membered wights who land in the Isle of Women and presently escape from it, wrinkled and shrivelled, true Domine Dolittles. Of Turkistan we know little, but what we know confirms my statement. Mr. Schuyler in his Turkistan (i. 132) offers an illustration of a “Batchah” (Pers. bachcheh = catamite), “or singing-boy surrounded by his admirers.” Of the Tartars Master Purchas laconically says (v. 419), “They are addicted to Sodomie or Buggerie.” The learned casuist Dr. Thomas Sanchez the Spaniard had (says Mirabeau in Kadhésch) to decide a difficult question concerning the sinfulness of a peculiar erotic perversion. The Jesuits brought home from Manilla a tailed man whose moveable prolongation of the os coccygis measured from 7 to 10 inches: he had placed himself between two women, enjoying one naturally while the other used his tail as a penis succedaneus. The verdict was incomplete sodomy and simple fornication. For the islands north of Japan, the “Sodomitical Sea,” and the “nayle of tynne” thrust through the prepuce to prevent sodomy, see Lib. ii. chap. 4 of Master Thomas Caudish’s Circumnavigation, and vol. vi. of Pinkerton’s Geography translated by Walckenaer.
Passing over to America we find that the Sotadic Zone contains the whole hemisphere from Behring’s Straits to Magellan’s. This prevalence of “mollities” astonishes the anthropologist, who is apt to consider pederasty the growth of luxury and the especial product of great and civilised cities, unnecessary and therefore unknown to simple savagery, where the births of both sexes are about equal and female infanticide is not practiced. In many parts of the New World this perversion was accompanied by another depravity of taste — confirmed cannibalism.52 The forests and campos abounded in game from the deer to the pheasant-like penelope, and the seas and rivers produced an unfailing supply of excellent fish and shell-fish;53 yet the Brazilian Tupis preferred the meat of man to every other food.
A glance at Mr. Bancroft54 proves the abnormal development of sodomy amongst the savages and barbarians of the New World. Even his half-frozen Hyperboreans “possess all the passions which are supposed to develop most freely under a milder temperature” (i. 58). “The voluptuousness and polygamy of the North American Indians, under a temperature of almost perpetual winter, is far greater than that of the most sensual tropical nations” (Martin’s Brit. Colonies iii. 524). I can quote only a few of the most remarkable instances. Of the Koniagas of Kadiak Island and the Thinkleets we read (i. 81–82), “The most repugnant of all their practices is that of male concubinage. A Kadiak mother will select her handsomest and most promising boy, and dress and rear him as a girl, teaching him only domestic duties, keeping him at women s work, associating him with women and girls, in order to render his effeminacy complete. Arriving at the age of ten or fifteen years, he is married to some wealthy man who regards such a companion as a great acquisition. These male concubines are called Achnutschik or Schopans” (the authorities quoted being Holmberg, Langsdorff, Billing, Choris, Lisiansky and Marchand). The same is the case in Nutka Sound and the Aleutian Islands, where “male concubinage obtains throughout, but not to the same extent as amongst the Koniagas.” The objects of “unnatural” affection have their beards carefully plucked out as soon as the face-hair begins to grow, and their chins are tattooed like those of the women. In California the first missionaries found the same practice, the youths being called Joya (Bancroft, i. 415 and authorities Palon, Crespi, Boscana, Mofras, Torquemada, Duflot and Fages). The Comanches unite incest with sodomy (i. 515). “In New Mexico, according to Arlegui, Ribas, and other authors, male concubinage prevails to a great extent; these loathsome semblances of humanity, whom to call beastly were a slander upon beasts, dress themselves in the clothes and perform the functions of women, the use of weapons being denied them” (i. 585). Pederasty was systematically practiced by the peoples of Cueba, Careta, and other parts of Central America. The Caciques and some of the headmen kept harems of youths who, as soon as destined for the unclean office, were dressed as women. They went by the name of Camayoas, and were hated and detested by the good wives (i. 733–74). Of the Nahua nations Father Pierre de Gand (alias de Musa) writes, “Un certain nombre de prâtres n’avaient point de femmes, sed eorum loco pueros quibus abutebantur. Ce péché était si commun dans ce pays que, jeunes ou vieux, tous étaient infectés; ils y étaient si adonnés que mêmes les enfants de six ens s’y livraient” (Ternaux,Campans, Voyages, Série i. Tom. x. p. 197). Among the Mayas of Yucatan Las Casas declares that the great prevalence of “unnatural” lust made parents anxious to see their progeny wedded as soon as possible (Kingsborough’s Mex. Ant. viii. 135). In Vera Paz a god, called by some Chin and by others Cavial and Maran, taught it by committing the act with another god. Some fathers gave their sons a boy to use as a woman, and if any other approached this pathic he was treated as an adulterer. In Yucatan images were found by Bernal Diaz proving the sodomitical propensities of the people (Bancroft v. 198). De Pauw (Recherches Philosophiques sur les Americains, London, 1771) has much to say about the subject in Mexico generally: in the northern provinces men married youths who, dressed like women, were forbidden to carry arms. According to Gomara there were at Tamalpais houses of male prostitution; and from Diaz and others we gather that the pecado nefando was the rule. Both in Mexico and in Peru it might have caused, if it did not justify, the cruelties of the Conquistadores. Pederasty was also general throughout Nicaragua, and the early explorers found it amongst the indigenes of Panama.
We have authentic details concerning Le Vice in Peru and its adjacent lands, beginning with Cieza de Leon, who must be read in the original or in the translated extracts of Purchas (vol. v. 942, etc.), not in the cruelly castrated form preferred by the Council of the Hakluyt Society. Speaking of the New Granada Indians he tells us that “at Old Port (Porto Viejo) and Puna, the Deuill so farre prevayled in their beastly Deuotions that there were Boyes consecrated to serue in the Temple; and at the times of their Sacrifices and Solemne Feasts, the Lords and principall men abused them to that detestable filthinesse;” i.e. performed their peculiar worship. Generally in the hill-countries the Devil, under the show of holiness, had introduced the practice; for every temple or chief house of adoration kept one or two men or more which were attired like women, even from the time of their childhood, and spake like them, imitating them in everything; with these, under pretext of holiness and religion, principal men on principal days had commerce. Speaking of the arrival of the Giants55 at Point Santa Elena, Cieza says (chap. lii.), they were detested by the natives, because in using their women they killed them, and their men also in another way. All the natives declare that God brought upon them a punishment proportioned to the enormity of their offence. When they were engaged together in their accursed intercourse, a fearful and terrible fire came down from Heaven with a great noise, out of the midst of which there issued a shining Angel with a glittering sword, wherewith at one blow they were all killed and the fire consumed them.56 There remained a few bones and skulls which God allowed to bide unconsumed by the fire, as a memorial of this punishment. In the Hakluyt Society’s bowdlerisation we read of the Tumbez Islanders being “very vicious, many of them committing the abominable offence” (p. 24); also, “If by the advice of the Devil any Indian commit the abominable crime, it is thought little of and they call him a woman.” In chapters lii. and lviii. we find exceptions. The Indians of Huancabamba, “although so near the peoples of Puerto Viejo and Guayaquil, do not commit the abominable sin;” and the Serranos, or island mountaineers, as sorcerers and magiclans inferior to the coast peoples, were not so much addicted to sodomy.
The Royal Commentaries of the Yncas shows that the evil was of a comparatively modern growth. In the early period of Peruvian history the people considered the crime “unspeakable:” if a Cuzco Indian, not of Yncarial blood, angrily addressed the term pederast to another, he was held infamous for many days. One of the generals having reported to the Ynca Ccapacc Yupanqui that there were some sodomites, not in all the valleys, but one here and one there, “nor was it a habit of all the inhabitants but only of certain persons who practised it privately,” the ruler ordered that the criminals should be publicly burnt alive and their houses, crops and trees destroyed: moreover, to show his abomination, he commanded that the whole village should so be treated if one man fell into this habit (Lib. iii. cap. 13). Elsewhere we learn, “There were sodomites in some provinces, though not openly nor universally, but some particular men and in secret. In some parts they had them in their temples, because the Devil persuaded them that the Gods took great delight in such people, and thus the Devil acted as a traitor to remove the veil of shame that the Gentiles felt for this crime and to accustom them to commit it in public and in common.”
During the times of the Conquistadores male concubinage had become the rule throughout Peru. At Cuzco, we are told by Nuno de Guzman in 1530 “The last which was taken, and which fought most couragiously, was a man in the habite of a woman, which confessed that from a childe he had gotten his liuing by that filthinesse, for which I caused him to be burned.” V. F. Lopez57 draws a frightful picture of pathologic love in Peru. Under the reigns which followed that of Inti–Kapak (Ccapacc) Amauri, the country was attacked by invaders of a giant race coming from the sea: they practiced pederasty after a fashion so shameless that the conquered tribes were compelled to fly(p. 271). Under the pre-Yncarial Amauta, or priestly dynasty, Peru had lapsed into savagery and the kings of Cuzco preserved only the name. “Toutes ces hontes et toutes ces misères provenaient de deux vices infâmes, la bestialité et la sodomie. Les femmes surtout étaient offensées de voir la nature frustrée de tous ses droits. Wiles pleuraient ensemble en leurs réunions sur le misérable état dans loquel elles étaient tombées, sur le mépris avec lequel elles étaient traitées. Le monde était renversé, les hommes s’aimaient et étaient jaloux les uns des autres. Elles cherchaient, mais en vain, les moyens de remédier au mal; elles employaient des herbes et des recettes diaboliques qui leur ramenaient bien quelques individus, mais ne pouvaient arrêter les progrès incessants du vice. Cet état de choses constitua un véritable moyen âge, qui aura jusqu’à l’établissement du gouvernement des Incas” (p. 277).
When Sinchi Roko (the xcvth of Montesinos and the xcist of Garcilazo) became Ynca, he found morals at the lowest ebb. “Ni la prudence de l’Inca, ni les lois sévères qu’il avait promulguées n’avaient pu extirper entièrement le péché contre nature. Il reprit avec une nouvelle violence, et les femmes en furent si jalouses qu’un grand nombre d’elles tuerent leurs maris. Les devins et les sorciers passaient leurs journées à fabriquer, avec certaines herbes, des compositions magiques qui rendaient fous ceux qui en mangaient, et les femmes en faisaient prendre, soit dans les aliments, soit dans la chicha, à ceux dont elles étaient jalouses’’ (p. 291).
I have remarked that the Tupi races of the Brazil were infamous for cannibalism and sodomy; nor could the latter be only racial as proved by the fact that colonists of pure Lusitanian blood followed in the path of the savages. Sr. Antonio Augusto da Costa Aguiar58 is outspoken upon this point. “A crime which in England leads to the gallows, and which is the very measure of abject depravity, passes with impunity amongst us by the participating in it of almost all or of many (de quasi todos, ou de muitos) Ah! if the wrath of Heaven were to fall by way of punishing such crimes (delictos), more than one city of this Empire, more than a dozen, would pass into the category of the Sodoms and Gomorrains” (p. 30). Till late years pederasty in the Brazil was looked upon as a peccadillo; the European immigrants following the practice of the wild men who were naked but not, as Columbus said, “clothed in innocence.” One of Her Majesty’s Consuls used to tell a tale of the hilarity provoked in a “fashionable” assembly by the open declaration of a young gentleman that his mulatto “patient” had suddenly turned upon him, insisting upon becoming agent. Now, however, under the influences of improved education and respect for the public opinion of Europe, pathologic love amongst the Luso–Brazilians has been reduced to the normal limits.
Outside the Sotadic Zone, I have said, Le Vice is sporadic, not endemic: yet the physical and moral effect of great cities where puberty, they say, is induced earlier than in country sites, has been the same in most lands, causing modesty to decay and pederasty to flourish. The Badawi Arab is wholly pure of Le Vice; yet San’á the capital of Al–Yaman and other centres of population have long been and still are thoroughly infected. History tells us of Zú Shanátir, tyrant of “Arabia Felix,” in A.D. 478, who used to entice young men into his palace and cause them after use to be cast out of the windows: this unkindly ruler was at last poniarded by the youth Zerash, known from his long ringlets as “Zú Nowás.” The negro race is mostly untainted by sodomy and tribadism. Yet Joan dos Sanctos59 found in Cacongo of West Africa certain “Chibudi, which are men attyred like women and behaue themselves womanly, ashamed to be called men; are also married to men, and esteem that vnnaturale damnation an honor.” Madagascar also delighted in dancing and singing boys dressed as girls. In the Empire of Dahomey I noted a corps of prostitutes kept for the use of the Amazon-soldieresses.
North of the Sotadic Zone we find local but notable instances. Master Christopher Burrough60 describes on the western side of the Volga
“a very fine stone castle, called by the name Oueak, and adioyning to the same a Towne called by the Russes, Sodom, which was swallowed into the earth by the justice of God, for the wickednesse of the people.”
Again: although as a rule Christianity has steadily opposed pathologic love both in writing and preaching, there have been remarkable exceptions. Perhaps the most curious idea was that of certain medical writers in the middle ages: “Usus et amplexus pueri, bene temperatus, salutaris medicine” (Tardieu). Bayle notices (under “Vayer”) the infamous book of Giovanni della Casa, Archbishop of Benevento, “De laudibus Sodomiæ,”61 vulgarly known as “Capitolo del Forno.” The same writer refers (under “Sixte iv.”) to the report that the Dominican Order, which systematically decried Le Vice, had presented a request to the Cardinal di Santa Lucia that sodomy might be lawful during three months per annum, June to August; and that the Cardinal had underwritten the petition “Be it done as they demand.” Hence the Fæda Venus of Battista Mantovano. Bayle rejects the history for a curious reason, venery being colder in summer than in winter, and quotes the proverb “Aux mods qui n’ont pas d’ R, peu embrasser et bien boire.” But in the case of a celibate priesthood such scandals are inevitable: witness the famous Jesuit epitaph Ci-gît un Jesuite, etc.
In our modern capitals, London, Berlin and Paris for instance, the Vice seems subject to periodical outbreaks. For many years, also, England sent her pederasts to Italy, and especially to Naples, whence originated the term “Il vizio Inglese.” It would be invicious to detail the scandals which of late years have startled the public in London and Dublin: for these the curious will consult the police reports. Berlin, despite her strong devour of Phariseeism, Puritanism and Chauvinism in religion, manners and morals, is not a whit better than her neighbours. Dr. Gaspar,62 a well-known authority on the subject, adduces many interesting cases, especially an old Count Cajus and his six accomplices. Amongst his many correspondents one suggested to him that not only Plato and Julius Cæsar but also Winckelmann and Platen(?) belonged to the Society; and he had found it flourishing in Palermo, the Louvre, the Scottish Highlands and St. Petersburg to name only a few places. Frederick the Great is said to have addressed these words to his nephew, “Je puis vous assurer, par mon expérience personelle, que ce plaisir est peu agréable à cultiver.” This suggests the popular anecdote of Voltaire and the Englishman who agreed upon an “experience” and found it far from satisfactory. A few days afterwards the latter informed the Sage of Ferney that he had tried it again and provoked the exclamation, “Once a philosopher: twice a sodomite!” The last revival of the kind in Germany is a society at Frankfort and its neighbourhood, self-styled Les Cravates Noires, in opposition, I suppose, to Les Cravates Blanches of A. Belot.
Paris is by no means more depraved than Berlin and London; but, whilst the latter hushes up the scandal, Frenchmen do not: hence we see a more copious account of it submitted to the public. For France of the xviith century consult the “Histoire de la Prostitution chez tous les Peuples du Monde,” and “La Prance devenue Italienne,” a treatise which generally follows”L’Histoire Amoureuse des Gaules” by Bussy, Comte de Rabutin.63 The headquarters of male prostitution were then in the Champ Flory, i.e., Champ de Flore, the privileged rendezvous of low courtesans. In the xviiith century, “quand le Francais a tête folle,” as Voltaire sings, invented the term “Péché philosophique,” there was a temporary recrudescence; and, after the death of Pidauzet de Mairobert (March, 1779), his “Apologie de la Secte Anandryne” was published in L’Espion Anglais. In those days the Allée des Veuves in the Champs Elysees had a “fief reservé des Ebugors”64 —“veuve” in the language of Sodom being the maîtresse en titre, the favourite youth.
At the decisive moment of monarchical decomposition Mirabeau65 declares that pederasty was reglementée and adds, Le goût des pédérastes, quoique moins en vogue que du temps de Henri III. (the French Heliogabalus), sous le règne desquel les hommes se provoquaient mutuellement66 sous les portiques du Louvre, fait des progrès considérables. On salt que cette ville (Paris) est un chef-d’œuvre de police; en conséquence, il y a des lieux publics autorisés à cet effet. Les jeunes yens qui se destinent à la professign, vent soigneusement enclassés; car les systèmes réglementaires s’étendent jusques-là. On les examine; ceux qui peuvent être agents et patients, qui vent beaux, vermeils, bien faits, potelés, sont réservés pour les grands seigneurs, ou se font payer très-cher par les évêques et les financiers. Ceux qui vent privés de leurs testicules, ou en termes de l’art (car notre langue est plus chaste qui nos mœurs), qui n’ont pas le poids du tisserand, mais qui donnent et reçoivent, forment la seconde classe; ils vent encore chers, parceque les femmes en usent tandis qu’ils servent aux hommes. Ceux qui ne sont plus susceptibles d’érection tant ils sont usés, quoiqu’ils aient tous ces organes nécessaires au plaisir, s’inscrivent comme patiens purs, et composent la troisième classe: mais celle qui prèside à ces plaisirs, vérifie leur impuissance. Pour cet effet, on les place tout nus sur un matelas ouvert par la moitié inférieure; deux filles les caressent de leur mieux, pendant qu’une troisieme frappe doucement avec desorties naissantes le siège des désire vénériens. Après un quart d’heure de cet essai, on leur introduit dans l’anus un poivre long rouge qui cause une irritation considérable; on pose sur les échauboulures produites par les orties, de la moutarde fine de Caudebec, et l’on passe le gland au camphre. Ceux qui résistent à ces épreuves et ne donnent aucun signe d’érection, servent comme patiens à un tiers de paie seulement.67
The Restoration and the Empire made the police more vigilant in matters of politics than of morals. The favourite club, which had its mot de passe, was in the Rue Doyenne, old quarter St Thomas de Louvre; and the house was a hotel of the xviith century. Two street-doors, on the right for the male gynæceum and the left for the female, opened at 4 p.m. in winter and 8 p.m. in summer. A decoy-lad, charmingly dressed in women’s clothes, with big haunches and small waist, promenaded outside; and this continued till 1826 when the police put down the house.
Under Louis Philippe, the conquest of Algiers had evil results, according to the Marquis de Boissy. He complained without ambages of mœurs Arabes in French regiments, and declared that the result of the African wars was an éffrayable débordement pédérastique, even as the vérole resulted from the Italian campaigns of that age of passion, the xvith century. From the military the fléau spread to civilian society and the Vice took such expansion and intensity that it may be said to have been democratised in cities and large towns; at least so we gather from the Dossier des Agissements des Pédérastes. A general gathering of “La Sainte Congregation des glorieux Pádárastes” was held in the old Petite Rue des Marais where, after the theatre, many resorted under pretext of making water. They ranged themselves along the walls of a vast garden and exposed their podices: bourgeois, richards and nobles came with full purses, touched the part which most attracted them and were duly followed by it. At the Allée des Veuves the crowd was dangerous from 7 to 8 p.m.: no policeman or ronde de nun’ dared venture in it; cords were stretched from tree to tree and armed guards drove away strangers amongst whom, they say, was once Victor Hugo. This nuisance was at length suppressed by the municipal administration.
The Empire did not improve morals. Balls of sodomites were held at No. 8 Place de la Madeleine where, on Jan. 2, ‘64, some one hundred and fifty men met, all so well dressed as women that even the landlord did not recognise them. There was also a club for sotadic debauchery called the Cent Gardes and the Dragons de l’Impératrice.68 They copied the imperial toilette and kept it in the general wardrobe: hence “faire l’Impératrice” meant to be used carnally. The site, a splendid hotel in the Allée des Veuves, was discovered by the Procureur-Géneral, who registered all the names; but, as these belonged to not a few senators and dignitaries, the Emperor wisely quashed proceedings. The club was broken up on July 16, ‘64. During the same year La Petite Revue, edited by M. Loredan Larchy, son of the General, printed an article, “Les échappés de Sodome”: it discusses the letter of M. Castagnary to the Progrès de Lyons and declares that the Vice had been adopted by plusieurs corps de troupes. For its latest developments as regards the chantage of the tantes (pathics), the reader will consult the last issues of Dr. Tardieu’s well-known Études.69 He declares that the servant-class is most infected; and that the Vice is commonest between the ages of fifteen and twenty five.
The pederasty of The Nights may briefly be distributed into three categories. The first is the funny form, as the unseemly practical joke of masterful Queen Budúr (vol. iii. 300–306) and the not less hardi jest of the slave-princess Zumurrud (vol. iv. 226). The second is in the grimmest and most earnest phase of the perversion, for instance where Abu Nowas70 debauches the three youths (vol. v. 64 69); whilst in the third form it is wisely and learnedly discussed, to be severely blamed, by the Shaykhah or Reverend Woman (vol v. 154).
To conclude this part of my subject, the éclaircissement des obscánités. Many readers will regret the absence from The Nights of that modesty which distinguishes “Amadis de Gaul,” whose author, when leaving a man and a maid together says, “And nothing shall be here related; for these and suchlike things which are conformable neither to good conscience nor nature, man ought in reason lightly to pass over, holding them in slight esteem as they deserve.” Nor have we less respect for Palmerin of England who after a risqué scene declares, “Herein is no offence offered to the wise by wanton speeches, or encouragement to the loose by lascivious matter.” But these are not oriental ideas, and we must e’en take the Eastern as we find him. He still holds “Naturalla non sunt turpia,” together with “Mundis omnia munda”; and, as Bacon assures us the mixture of a lie cloth add to pleasure, so the Arab enjoys the startling and lively contrast of extreme virtue and horrible vice placed in juxtaposition.
Those who have read through these ten volumes will agree with me that the proportion of offensive matter bears a very small ratio to the mass of the work. In an age saturated with cant and hypocrisy, here and there a venal pen will mourn over the “Pornography” of The Nights, dwell upon the “Ethics of Dirt” and the “Garbage of the Brothel”; and will lament the “wanton dissemination (!) of ancient and filthy fiction.” This self-constituted Censor morum reads Aristophanes and Plato, Horace and Virgil, perhaps even Martial and Petronius, because “veiled in the decent obscurity of a learned language”; he allows men Latinè loqui; but he is scandalised at stumbling-blocks much less important in plain English. To be consistent he must begin by bowdlerising not only the classics, with which boys’ and youths’ minds and memories are soaked and saturated at schools and colleges, but also Boccaccio and Chaucer, Shakespeare and Rabelais; Burton, Sterne, Swift, and a long list of works which are yearly reprinted and republished without a word of protest. Lastly, why does not this inconsistent puritan purge the Old Testament of its allusions to human ordure and the pudenda; to carnal copulation and impudent whoredom, to adultery and fornication, to onanism, sodomy and bestiality? But this he will not do, the whited sepulchre! To the interested critic of the Edinburgh Review (No. 335 of July, 1886), I return my warmest thanks for his direct and deliberate falsehoods:— lies are one-legged and short-lived, and venom evaporates.71 It appears to me that when I show to such men, so “respectable” and so impure, a landscape of magnificent prospects whose vistas are adorned with every charm of nature and art, they point their unclean noses at a little heap of muck here and there lying in a field-corner.
1 This detail especially excited the veteran’s curiosity. The reason proved to be that the scrotum of the unmutilated boy could be used as a kind of bridle for directing the movements of the animal. I find nothing of the kind mentioned in the Sotadical literature of Greece and Rome; although the same cause might be expected everywhere to the same effect. But in Mirabeau (Kadhésch) a grand seigneur moderne, when his valet-de-chambre de confiance proposes to provide him with women instead of boys, exclaims, “Des femmes! eh! c’est comme si tu me servais un gigot sans manche.” See also infra for “Le poids du tisserand.”
2 See Falconry in the Valley of the Indus, London, John Van Voorst, 1852.
3 Submitted to Government on Dec. 3’, ‘47, and March 2, ‘48, they were printed in “Selections from the Records of the Government of India.” Bombay. New Series. No. xvii. Part 2, 1855. These are (1) Notes on the Population of Sind, etc., and (2) Brief Notes on the Modes of Intoxication, etc., written in collaboration with my late friend Assistant–Surgeon John E. Stocks, whose early death was a sore loss to scientific botany.
4 Glycon the Courtesan in Athen. xiii. 84 declares that “boys are handsome only when they resemble women,” and so the Learned Lady in The Nights (vol. v. 160) declares “Boys are likened to girls because folks say, Yonder boy is like a girl.” For the superior physical beauty of the human male compared with the female, see The Nights, vol. iv. 15; and the boy’s voice before it breaks excels that of any diva.
5 “Mascula,” from the priapiscus, the over-development of clitoris (the veretrum muliebre, in Arabic Abu Tartúr, habens cristam), which enabled her to play the man. Sappho (nat. B.C. 612) has been retoillée like Mary Stuart, La Brinvilliers, Marie Antoinette and a host of feminine names which have a savour not of sanctity. Maximus of Tyre (Dissert. xxiv.) declares that the Eros of Sappho was Socratic and that Gyrinna and Atthis were as Alcibiades and Chermides to Socrates: Ovid who could consult documents now lost, takes the same view in the Letter of Sappho to Phaon and in Tristia ii. 265.
Lesbia quid docuit Sappho nisi amare puellas?
Suidas supports Ovid. Longinus eulogises the (a term applied only to carnal love) of the far-famed Ode to Atthis:—
Ille mî par esse Deo videtur Heureux! qui près de toi pour toi seule soupire
(Blest as th’ immortal gods is he, etc.)
By its love symptoms, suggesting that possession is the sole cure for passion, Erasistratus discovered the love of Antiochus for Stratonice. Mure (Hist. of Greek Literature, 1850) speaks of the Ode to Aphrodite (Frag. 1) as “one in which the whole volume of Greek literature offers the most powerful concentration into one brilliant focus of the modes in which amatory concupiscence can display itself.” But Bernhardy, Bode, Richter, K. O. Müller and esp. Welcker have made Sappho a model of purity, much like some of our dull wits who have converted Shakespeare, that most debauched genius, into a good British bourgeois.
6 The Arabic Sabhákah, the Tractatrix or Subigitatrix who has been noticed in vol. iv. 134. Hence to Lesbianise ( ) and tribassare ( ); the former applied to the love of woman for woman and the latter to its mecanique: this is either natural, as friction of the labia and insertion of the clitoris when unusually developed, or artificial by means of the fascinum, the artificial penis (the Persian “Mayájang”); the patte de chat, the banana-fruit and a multitude of other succedanea. As this feminine perversion is only glanced at in The Nights I need hardly enlarge upon the subject.
7 Plato (Symp.) is probably mystical when he accounts for such passions by there being in the beginning three species of humanity, men, women and men-women or androgynes. When the latter were destroyed by Zeus for rebellion, the two others were individually divided into equal parts. Hence each division seeks its other half in the same sex, the primitive man prefers men and the primitive woman women. C’est beau, but — is it true? The idea was probably derived from Egypt which supplied the Hebrews with androgynic humanity, and thence it passed to extreme India, where Shiva as Ardhanárí was male on one side and female on the other side of the body, combining paternal and maternal qualities and functions. The first creation of humans (Gen. i. 27) was hermaphrodite (=Hermes and Venus), masculum et fœminam creavit eos — male and female created He them — on the sixth day, with the command to increase and multiply (ibid. v. 28), while Eve the woman was created subsequently. Meanwhile, say certain Talmudists, Adam carnally copulated with all races of animals. See L’Anandryne in Mirabeau’s Erotika Biblion, where Antoinette Bourgnon laments the undoubling which disfigured the work of God, producing monsters incapable of independent self-reproduction like the vegetable kingdom.
8 De la Femme, Paris, 1827.
9 Die Lustseuche des Alterthum’s, Halle, 1839.
10 See his exhaustive article on (Grecian) “Paederastie” in the Allgemeine Encyclopædie of Ersch and Gruber, Leipzig, Brockhaus, 1837. He carefully traces it through the several states, Dorians, Æolians, Ionians, the Attic cities and those of Asia Minor. For these details I must refer my readers to M. Meier; a full account of these would fill a volume not the section of an essay.
11 Against which see Henri Estienne, Apologie pour Hérodote, a society satire of xvith century, lately reprinted by Liseux.
12 In Sparta the lover was called or x and the beloved as in Thessaly or x.
13 The more I study religions the more I am convinced that man never worshipped anything but himself. Zeus, who became Jupiter, was an ancient king, according to the Cretans, who were entitled liars because they showed his burial-place. From a deified ancestor he would become a local god, like the Hebrew Jehovah as opposed to Chemosh of Moab; the name would gain amplitude by long time and distant travel, and the old island chieftain would end in becoming the Demiurgus. Ganymede (who possibly gave rise to the old Lat. “Catamitus”) was probably some fair Phrygian boy (“son of Tros”) who in process of time became a symbol of the wise man seized by the eagle (perspicacity) to be raised amongst the Immortals; and the chaste myth simply signified that only the prudent are loved by the gods. But it rotted with age as do all things human. For the Pederastía of the Gods see Bayle under Chrysippe.
14 See Dissertation sur les idées morales des Grecs et sur les dangers de lire Platon. Par M. Audé, Bibliophile, Rouen, Lemonnyer, 1879. This is the pseudonym of the late Octave Delepierre, who published with Gay, but not the Editio Princeps — which, if I remember rightly, contains much more matter.
15 The phrase of J. Matthias Gesner, Comm. Reg. Soc. Gottingen i. 1–32. It was founded upon Erasmus’ “Sancte Socrate, ore pro nobis,” and the article was translated by M. Alcide Bonmaire, Paris, Liseux, 1877.
16 The subject has employed many a pen, e.g.,Alcibiade Fanciullo a Scola, D. P. A. (supposed to be Pietro Aretino — ad captandum?), Oranges, par Juann Wart, 1652: small square 8vo of pp. 102, including 3 preliminary pp. and at end an unpaged leaf with 4 sonnets, almost Venetian, by V. M. There is a re-impression of the same date, a small 12mo of longer format, pp. 124 with pp. 2 for sonnets: in 1862 the Imprimerie Racon printed 102 copies in 8vo of pp. iv.-108, and in 1863 it was condemned by the police as a liber spurcissimus atque execrandus de criminis sodomici laude et arte. This work produced “Alcibiade Enfant à l’école,” traduit pour la première fois de l’Italien de Ferrante Pallavicini, Amsterdam, chez l’Ancien Pierre Marteau, mdccclxvi. Pallavicini (nat. 1618), who wrote against Rome, was beheaded, aet. 26 (March 5, 1644), at Avignon in 1644 by the vengeance of the Barberini: he was a bel esprit déréglé, nourri d’études antiques and a Memb. of the Acad. Degl’ Incogniti. His peculiarities are shown by his “Opere Scelte,” 2 vols. 12mo, Villafranca, mdclxiii.; these do not include Alcibiade Fanciullo, a dialogue between Philotimus and Alcibiades which seems to be a mere skit at the Jesuits and their Péché philosophique. Then came the “Dissertation sur l’Alcibiade fanciullo a scola,” traduit de l’Italien de Giambattista Baseggio et accompagnée de notes et d’une post-face par un bibliophile francais (M. Gustave Brunet, Librarian of Bordeaux), Paris. J. Gay, 1861 — an octavo of pp. 78 (paged), 254 copies. The. same Baseggio printed in 1850 his Disquisizioni (23 copies) and claims for F. Pallavicini the authorship of Alcibiades which the Manuel du Libraire wrongly attributes to M. Girol. Adda in 1859. I have heard of but not seen the “Amator fornaceus, amator ineptus” (Palladii, 1633) supposed by some to be the origin of Alcibiade Fanciullo; but most critics consider it a poor and insipid production.
17 The word is from numbness, torpor, narcotism: the flowers, being loved by the infernal gods, were offered to the Furies. Narcissus and Hippolytus are often assumed as types of morose voluptas, masturbation and clitorisation for nymphomania: certain mediæval writers found in the former a type of the Saviour, and ‘Mirabeau a representation of the androgynous or first Adam: to me Narcissus suggests the Hindu Vishnu absorbed in the contemplation of his own perfections.
18 The verse of Ovid is parallel’d by the song of Al-Záhir al-Jazari (Ibn Khall. iii. 720).
Illum impuberem amaverunt mares; puberem feminæ.
Gloria Deo! nunquam amatoribus carebit.
19 The venerable society of prostitutes contained three chief classes. The first and lowest were the Dicteriads, so called from Diete (Crete), who imitated Pasiphaë, wife of Minos, in preferring a bull to a husband; above them was the middle class, the Aleutridæ, who were the Almahs or professional musicians, and the aristocracy was represented by the Hetairai, whose wit and learning enabled them to adorn more than one page of Grecian history. The grave Solon, who had studied in Egypt, established a vast Dicterion (Philemon in his Delphica), or bordel whose proceeds swelled the revenue of the Republic.
20 This and Saint Paul (Romans i. 27) suggested to Caravaggio his picture of St. Rosario (in the museum of the Grand Duke of Tuscany), showing a circle of thirty men turpiter ligati.
21 Properly speaking, “Medicus” is the third or ring finger, as shown by the old Chiromantist verses,
Est pollex Veneris; sed Jupiter indice gaudet,
Saturnus medium; Sol medicumque tenet.
22 So Seneca uses digito scalpit caput. The modern Italian does the same by inserting the thumb-tip between the index and medius to suggest the clitoris.
23 What can be wittier than the now trite Tale of the Ephesian Matron, whose dry humour is worthy of The Nights? No wonder that it has made the grand tour of the world. It is found in the neo-Phædrus, the tales of Musæus and in the Septem Sapientes as the “Widow which was comforted.” As the “Fabliau de la Femme qui se fist putain sur la fosse de son Mari,” it tempted Brantôme and La Fontaine; and Abel Rémusat shows in his Contes Chinois that it is well known to the Middle Kingdom. Mr. Walter K. Kelly remarks, that the most singular place for such a tale is the “Rule and Exercise of Holy Dying” by Jeremy Taylor, who introduces it into his chapt. v. —“Of the Contingencies of Death and Treating our Dead.” But in those days divines were not mealy-mouthed.
24 Glossarium eroticum linguæ Latinæ, sive theogoniæ, legum et morum nuptialium apud Romanos explanatio nova, auctore P. P. (Parisiis, Dondey–Dupré, 1826, in 8vo). P. P. is supposed to be Chevalier Pierre Pierrugues, an engineer who made a plan of Bordeaux and who annotated the Erotica Biblion. Gay writes, “On s’est servi pour cet ouvrage des travaux inédits de M. Ie Baron de Schonen, etc. Quant au Chevalier Pierre Pierrugues qu’on désignait comme l’auteur de ce savant volume, son existence n’est pas bien avérée, et quelques bibliographes persistent à penser que ce nom cache la collaboration du Baron de Schonen et d’Eloi Johanneau.” Other glossicists as Blondeau and Forberg have been printed by Liseux, Paris.
25 This magnificent country, which the petty jealousies of Europe condemn, like the glorious regions about Constantinople, to mere barbarism, is tenanted by three Moslem races. The Berbers, who call themselves Tamazight (plur. of Amazigh), are the Gætulian indigenes speaking an Africo–Semitic tongue (see Essai de Grammaire Kabyle, etc., par A. Hanoteau, Paris, Benjamin Duprat). The Arabs, descended from the conquerors in our eighth century, are mostly nomads and camel-breeders. Third and last are the Moors proper, the race dwelling in towns, a mixed breed originally Arabian but modified by six centuries of Spanish residence and showing by thickness of feature and a parchment-coloured skin, resembling the American Octaroon’s, a negro innervation of old date. The latter are well described in “Morocco and the Moors,” etc. (Sampson Low and Co., 1876), by my late friend Dr. Arthur Leared, whose work I should like to see reprinted.
26 Thus somewhat agreeing with one of the multitudinous modern theories that the Pentapolis was destroyed by discharges of meteoric stones during a tremendous thunderstorm. Possible, but where are the stones?
27 To this Iranian domination I attribute the use of many Persic words which are not yet obsolete in Egypt. “Bakhshísh,” for instance, is not intelligible in the Moslem regions west of the Nile–Valley, and for a present the Moors say Hadíyah, regalo or favor.
28 Arnobius and Tertullian, with the arrogance of their caste and its miserable ignorance of that symbolism which often concealed from vulgar eyes the most precious mysteries, used to taunt the heathen for praying to deities whose sex they ignored “Consuistis in precibus ‘Seu tu Deus seu tu Dea,’ dicere!” These men would know everything; they made God the merest work of man’s brains and armed him with a despotism of omnipotence which rendered their creation truly dreadful.
29 Gallus lit. = a cock, in pornologic parlance is a capon, a castrato.
30 The texts justifying or enjoining castration are Matt. xviii. 8–9; Mark ix. 43–47; Luke xxiii. 29 and Col. iii. 5. St. Paul preached (1 Corin. vii. 29) that a man should live with his wife as if he had none. The Abelian heretics of Africa abstained from women because Abel died virginal. Origen mutilated himself after interpreting too rigorously Matt. xix. 12, and was duly excommunicated. But his disciple, the Arab Valerius founded (A.D. 250) the castrated sect called Valerians who, persecuted and dispersed by the Emperors Constantine and Justinian, became the spiritual fathers of the modern Skopzis. These eunuchs first appeared in Russia at the end of the xith century, when two Greeks, John and Jephrem, were metropolitans of Kiew: the former was brought thither in A.D. 1089 by Princess Anna Wassewolodowna and is called by the chronicles Nawjè or the Corpse. But in the early part of the last century (1715–1733) a sect arose in the circle of Uglitseh and in Moscow, at first called Clisti or flagellants, which developed into the modern Skopzi. For this extensive subject see De Stein (Zeitschrift für Ethn. Berlin, 1875) and Mantegazza, chaps. vi.
31 See the marvellously absurd description of the glorious “Dead Sea” in the Purchas v. 84.
32 Jehovah here is made to play an evil part by destroying men instead of teaching them better. But, “Nous faisons les Dieux à notre image et nous portons dans le ciel ce que nous voyons sur la terre.” The idea of Yahweh, or Yah, is palpably Egyptian, the Ankh or ever-living One: the etymon, however, was learned at Babylon and is still found amongst the cuneiforms.
33 The name still survives in the Shajarát al-Ashará, a clump of trees near the village Al–Ghájar (of the Gypsies?) at the foot of Hermon.
34 I am not quite sure that Astarte is not primarily the planet Venus; but I can hardly doubt that Prof. Max Müller and Sir G. Cox are mistaken in bringing from India Aphrodite the Dawn and her attendants, the Charites identified with the Vedic Harits. Of Ishtar in Accadia, however, Roscher seems to have proved that she is distinctly the Moon sinking into Amenti (the west, the Underworld) in search of her lost spouse Izdubar, the Sun-god. This again is pure Egyptianism.
35 In this classical land of Venus the worship of Ishtar–Ashtaroth is by no means obsolete. The Metáwali heretics, a people of Persian descent and Shiite tenets, and the peasantry of “Bilád B’sharrah,” which I would derive from Bayt Ashirah, still pilgrimage to the ruins and address their vows to the Sayyidat al-Kabírah, the Great Lady. Orthodox Moslems accuse them of abominable orgies and point to the lamps and rags which they suspend to a tree entitled Shajarat al-Sitt — the Lady’s tree — an Acacia Albida which, according to some travellers, is found only here and at Sayda (Sidon) where an avenue exists. The people of Kasrawán, a Christian province in the Libanus, inhabited by a peculiarly prurient race, also hold high festival under the far-famed Cedars, and their women sacrifice to Venus like the Kadashah of the Phœnicians. This survival of old superstition is unknown to missionary “Handbooks,” but amply deserves the study of the anthropologist.
36 Some commentators understand “the tabernacles sacred to the reproductive powers of women;” and the Rabbis declare that the emblem was the figure of a setting hen.
37 Dog” is applied by the older Jews to the Sodomite and the Catamite, and thus they understand the “price of a dog” which could not be brought into the Temple (Deut. xxiii. 18). I have noticed it in one of the derivations of cinædus and can only remark that it is a vile libel upon the canine tribe.
38 Her name was Maachah and her title, according to some, “King’s mother”: she founded the sect of Communists who rejected marriage and made adultery and incest part of worship in their splendid temple. Such were the Basilians and the Carpocratians followed in the xith century by Tranchelin, whose sectarians, the Turlupins, long infested Savoy.
39 A noted exception is Vienna, remarkable for the enormous development of the virginal bosoni, which soon becomes pendulent.
40 Gen. xxxviii. 2–11. Amongst the classics Mercury taught the “Art of le Thalaba” to his son Pan who wandered about the mountains distraught with love for the Nymph Echo and Pan passed it on to the pastors. See Thalaba in Mirabeau.
41 The reader of The Nights has remarked how often the “he” in Arabic poetry denotes a “she”; but the Arab, when uncontaminated by travel, ignores pederasty, and the Arab poet is a Badawi.
42 So Mohammed addressed his girl-wife Ayishah in the masculine.
43 So amongst the Romans we have the Iatroliptæ, youths or girls who wiped the gymnast’s perspiring body with swan-down, a practice renewed by the professors of “Massage”; Unctores who applied perfumes and essences; Fricatrices and Tractatrices or shampooers; Dropacistæ, corn-cutters; Alipilarii who plucked the hair, etc., etc., etc.
44 It is a parody on the well-known song (Roebuck i. sect. 2, No. 1602):
The goldsmith knows the worth of gold, jewellers worth of jewelry;
The worth of rose Bulbul can tell and Kambar’s worth his lord, Ali.
45 For “Sindí” Roebuck (Oriental Proverbs Part i. p. 99) has Kunbu (Kumboh) a Panjábi peasant, and others vary the saying ad libitum. See vol. vi. 156.
46 See “Sind Revisited” i. 133–35.
47 They must not be confounded with the grelots lascifs, the little bells of gold or silver set by the people of Pegu in the prepuce-skin, and described by Nicolo de Conti who however refused to undergo the operation.
48 Relation des découvertes faites par Colomb, etc., p. 137: Bologna 1875; also Vespucci’s letter in Ramusio (i. 131) and Paro’s Recherches philosophiques sur les Américains.
49 See Mantegazza loc. cit. who borrows from the Thèse de Paris of Dr. Abel Hureau de Villeneuve, “Frictiones per coitum productæ magnum mucosæ membranæ vaginalis turgorem, ac simul hujus cuniculi coarctationem tam maritis salacibus quæritatam afferunt.”
50 Fascinus is the Priapus-god to whom the Vestal Virgins of Rome, professed tribades, sacrificed, also the neck-charm in phallus-shape. Fascinum is the male member.
51 Captain Grose (Lexicon Balatronicum) explains merkin as “counterfeit hair for women’s privy parts. See Bailey’s Dict.” The Bailey of 1764, an “improved edition,” does not contain the word which is now generally applied to a cunnus succedaneus.
52 I have noticed this phenomenal cannibalism in my notes to Mr. Albert Tootle’s excellent translation of “The Captivity of Hans Stade of Hesse:” London, Hakluyt Society, mdccclxxiv.
53 The Ostreiras or shell mounds of the Brazil, sometimes 200 feet high, are described by me in Anthropologia No. i. Oct. 1873.
54 The Native Races of the Pacific States of South America, by Herbert Howe Bancroft, London, Longmans, 1875.
55 All Peruvian historians mention these giants, who were probably the large-limbed Gribs (Caraíbes) of the Brazil: they will be noticed in page 211.
56 This sounds much like a pious fraud of the missionaries, a Europeo–American version of the Sodom legend.
57 Les Races Aryennes du Perou, Paris, Franck, 1871.
58 O Brazil e os Brazileiros, Santos, 1862.
59 Aethiopia Orientalis, Purchas ii. 1558.
60 Purchas iii. 243.
61 For a literal translation see 1re Série de la Curiosité Littéraire et Bibliographique, Paris, Liseux, 1880.
62 His best-known works are (1) Praktisches Handbuch der Gerechtlichen Medecin, Berlin, 1860; and (2) Klinische Novellen zur Gerechtlichen Medecin, Berlin, 1863.
63 The same author printed another imitation of Petronius Arbiter, the “Larissa” story of Théophile Viand. His cousin, the Sévigné, highly approved of it. See Bayle’s objections to Rabutin’s delicacy and excuses for Petronius’ grossness in his “Éclaircissement sur les obscénités” (Appendice au Dictionnaire Antique).
64 The Boulgrin of Rabelais, which Urquhart renders Ingle for Boulgre, an “indorser,” derived from the Bulgarus or Bulgarian, who gave to Italy the term bugiardo — liar. Bougre and Bougrerie date (Littré) from the xiiith century. I cannot, however, but think that the trivial term gained strength in the xvith, when the manners of the Bugres or indigenous Brazilians were studied by Huguenot refugees in La France Antartique and several of these savages found their way to Europe. A grand Fête in Rouen on the entrance of Henri II. and Dame Katherine de Medicis (June 16, 1564) showed, as part of the pageant, three hundred men (including fifty “Bugres” or Tupis) with parroquets and other birds and beasts of the newly explored regions. The procession is given in the four-folding woodcut “Figure des Brésiliens” in Jean de Prest’s Edition of 1551.
65 Erotika Biblion, chaps. Kadésch (pp. 93 et seq.), Edition de Bruxelles, with notes by the Chevalier P. Pierrugues of Bordeaux, before noticed.
66 Called Chevaliers de Paille because the sign was a straw in the mouth, à la Palmerston.
67 I have noticed that the eunuch in Sind was as meanly paid and have given the reason.
68 Centuria Librorum Absconditorum (by Pisanus Fraxi) 4to, p. Ix. and 593. London. Privately printed, mdccclxxix.
69 A friend learned in these matters supplies me with the following list of famous pederasts. Those who marvel at the wide diffusion of such erotic perversion, and its being affected by so many celebrities, will bear in mind that the greatest men have been some of the worst: Alexander of Macedon, Julius Cæsar and Napoleon Buonaparte held themselves high above the moral law which obliges common-place humanity. All three are charged with the Vice. Of Kings we have Henri iii., Louis xiii. and xviii., Frederick ii. Of Prussia Peter the Great, William ii. of Holland and Charles ii. and iii. of Parma. We find also Shakespeare (i., xv., Edit. Francois Hugo) and Moliere, Theodorus Beza, Lully (the Composer), D’Assoucy, Count Zintzendorff, the Grand Condé, Marquis de Villette, Pierre Louis Farnese, Duc de la Vallière, De Soleinne, Count D’Avaray, Saint Mégrin, D’Epernon, Admiral de la Susse La Roche–Pouchin Rochfort S. Louis, Henne (the Spiritualist), Comte Horace de Viel Castel, Lerminin, Fievée, Théodore Leclerc, Archi–Chancellier Cambacèrés, Marquis de Custine, Sainte–Beuve and Count D’Orsay. For others refer to the three volumes of Pisanus Fraxi, Index Librorum Prohibitorum (London, 1877), Centuria Librorum Absconditorum (before alluded to) and Catena Librorum Tacendorum, London, 1885. The indices will supply the names.
70 0f this peculiar character Ibn Khallikan remarks (ii. 43), “There were four poets whose works clearly contraried their character. Abú al-Atahíyah wrote pious poems himself being an atheist; Abú Hukayma’s verses proved his impotence, yet he was more salacious than a he-goat, Mohammed ibn Házim praised contentment, yet he was greedier than a dog, and Abú Nowás hymned the joys of sodomy, yet he was more passionate for women than a baboon.”
71 A virulently and unjustly abusive critique never yet injured its object: in fact it is generally the greatest favour an author’s unfriends can bestow upon him. But to notice a popular Review books which have been printed and not published is hardly in accordance with the established courtesies of literature. At the end of my work I propose to write a paper “The Reviewer Reviewed” which will, amongst other things, explain the motif of the writer of the critique and the editor of the Edinburgh.
According to promise in my Foreword (p. xiii.), I here proceed to offer a few observations concerning the Saj’a or rhymed prose and the Shi’r, or measured sentence, that is, the verse of The Nights. The former has in composition, metrical or unmetrical three distinct forms. Saj’a mutáwazi (parallel), the most common is when the ending words of sentences agree in measure, assonance and final letter, in fact our full rhyme; next is Saj’a mutarraf (the affluent), when the periods, hemistichs or couplets end in words whose terminal letters correspond, although differing in measure and number; and thirdly, Saj’a muwázanah (equilibrium) is applied to the balance which affects words corresponding in measure but differing in final letters.1
Al–Saj’a, the fine style or style fleuri, also termed Al–Badí‘a, or euphuism, is the basis of all Arabic euphony. The whole of the Koran is written in it; and the same is the case with the Makámát of Al–Hariri and the prime masterpieces of rhetorical composition: without it no translation of the Holy Book can be satisfactory or final, and where it is not the Assemblies become the prose of prose. Thus universally used the assonance has necessarily been abused, and its excess has given rise to the saying “Al–Saj’s faj’a”— prose rhyme’s a pest. English translators have, unwisely I think, agreed in rejecting it, while Germans have not. Mr Preston assures us that “rhyming prose is extremely ungraceful in English and introduces an air of flippancy”: this was certainly not the case with Friedrich Rückert’s version of the great original and I see no reason why it should be so or become so in our tongue. Torrens (Pref. p. vii.) declares that “the effect of the irregular sentence with the iteration of a jingling rhyme is not pleasant in our language:” he therefore systematically neglects it and gives his style the semblance of being “scamped” with the object of saving study and trouble. Mr. Payne (ix. 379) deems it an “excrescence born of the excessive facilities for rhyme afforded by the language,” and of Eastern delight in antithesis of all kinds whether of sound or of thought; and, aiming elaborately at grace of style, he omits it wholly, even in the proverbs.
The weight of authority was against me but my plan compelled me to disregard it. The dilemma was simply either to use the Saj’a or to follow Mr. Payne’s method and “arrange the disjecta membra of the original in their natural order”; that is, to remodel the text. Intending to produce a faithful copy of the Arabic, I was compelled to adopt the former, and still hold it to be the better alternative. Moreover I question Mr. Payne’s dictum (ix. 383) that “the Seja-form is utterly foreign to the genius of English prose and that its preservation would be fatal to all vigour and harmony of style.” The English translator of Palmerin of England, Anthony Munday, attempted it in places with great success as I have before noted (vol. viii. 60); and my late friend Edward Eastwick made artistic use of it in his Gulistan. Had I rejected the “Cadence of the cooing dove” because un-English, I should have adopted the balanced periods of the Anglican marriage service2 or the essentially English system of alliteration, requiring some such artful aid to distinguish from the vulgar recitative style the elevated and classical tirades in The Nights. My attempt has found with reviewers more favour than I expected; and a kindly critic writes of it, “These melodious fray meets, these little eddies of song set like gems in the prose, have a charming effect on the ear. They come as dulcet surprises and mostly recur in highly-wrought situations, or they are used to convey a vivid sense of something exquisite in nature or art. Their introduction seems due to whim or caprice, but really it arises from a profound study of the situation, as if the Tale-teller felt suddenly compelled to break into the rhythmic strain.”
1 1 For detailed examples and specimens see p. 10 of Gladwin’s “Dissertations on Rhetoric,” etd., Calcutta, 1801.
2 For instance: I, M. | take thee N. | to my wedded wife, | to have and to hold, | from this day forward, | for better for worse, | for richer for poorer, | in sickness and in health, | to love and to cherish, | till death do us part, etc. Here it becomes mere blank verse which is, of course, a defect in prose style. In that delightful old French the Saj’a frequently appeared when attention was solicited for the titles of books: e.g. Lea Romant de la Rose, ou tout lart damours est enclose.
The Shi’r or metrical part of The Nights is considerable amounting to not less than ten thousand lines, and these I could not but render in rhyme or rather in monorhyme. This portion has been a bugbear to translators. De Sacy noticed the difficulty of the task (p. 283). Lane held the poetry untranslatable because abounding in the figure Tajnís, our paronomasia or paragram, of which there are seven distinct varieties,1 not to speak of other rhetorical flourishes. He therefore omitted the greater part of the verse as tedious and, through the loss of measure and rhyme, “generally intolerable to the reader.” He proved his position by the bald literalism of the passages which he rendered in truly prosaic prose and succeeded in changing the facies and presentment of the work. For the Shi’r, like the Saj’a, is not introduced arbitrarily; and its unequal distribution throughout The Nights may be accounted for by rule of art. Some tales, like Omar bin al-Nu’man and Tawaddud, contain very little because the theme is historical or realistic; whilst in stories of love and courtship as that of Rose-in-hood, the proportion may rise to one-fifth of the whole. And this is true to nature. Love, as Addison said, makes even the mechanic (the British mechanic!) poetical, and Joe Hume of material memory once fought a duel about a fair object of dispute.
Before discussing the verse of The Nights it may be advisable to enlarge a little upon the prosody of the Arabs. We know nothing of the origin of their poetry, which is lost in the depths of antiquity, and the oldest bards of whom we have any remains belong to the famous epoch of the war Al–Basús, which would place them about A.D. 500. Moreover, when the Muse of Arabia first shows she is not only fully developed and mature, she has lost all her first youth, her beauté du diable, and she is assuming the characteristics of an age beyond “middle age.” No one can study the earliest poetry without perceiving that it results from the cultivation of centuries and that it has already assumed that artificial type and conventional process of treatment which presages inevitable decay. Its noblest period is included in the century preceding the Apostolate of Mohammed, and the oldest of that epoch is the prince of Arab songsters, Imr al-Kays, “The Wandering King.” The Christian Fathers characteristically termed poetry Vinum Dæmonorum. The stricter Moslems called their bards “enemies of Allah”; and when the Prophet, who hated verse and could not even quote it correctly, was asked who was the best poet of the Peninsula he answered that the “Man of Al–Kays,” i.e. the worshipper of the Priapus-idol, would usher them all into Hell. Here he only echoed the general verdict of his countrymen who loved poetry and, as a rule, despised poets. The earliest complete pieces of any volume and substance saved from the wreck of old Arabic literature and familiar in our day are the seven Kasídahs (purpose-odes or tendence-elegies) which are popularly known as the Gilded or the Suspended Poems; and in all of these we find, with an elaboration of material and formal art which can go no further, a subject-matter of trite imagery and stock ideas which suggest a long ascending line of model ancestors and predecessors.
Scholars are agreed upon the fact that many of the earliest and best Arab poets were, as Mohammed boasted himself, unalphabetic2 or rather could neither read nor write. They addressed the ear and the mind, not the eye. They “spoke verse,” learning it by rote and dictating it to the Ráwi, and this reciter again transmitted it to the musician whose pipe or zither accompanied the minstrel’s song. In fact the general practice of writing began only at the end of the first century after The Flight.
The rude and primitive measure of Arab song, upon which the most complicated system of metres subsequently arose, was called Al–Rajaz, literally “the trembling,” because it reminded the highly imaginative hearer of a pregnant she-camel’s weak and tottering steps. This was the carol of the camel-driver, the lover’s lay and the warrior’s chaunt of the heroic ages; and its simple, unconstrained flow adapted it well for extempore effusions. Its merits and demerits have been extensively discussed amongst Arab grammarians, and many, noticing that it was not originally divided into hemistichs, make an essential difference between the Shá‘ir who speaks poetry and the Rájiz who speaks Rajaz. It consisted, to describe it technically, of iambic dipodia (U-U-), the first three syllables being optionally long or short It can generally be read like our iambs and, being familiar, is pleasant to the English ear. The dipodia are repeated either twice or thrice; in the former case Rajaz is held by some authorities, as Al–Akhfash (Sa’íd ibn Másadah), to be mere prose. Although Labíd and Antar composed in iambics, the first Kásídah or regular poem in Rajaz was by Al–Aghlab al-Ajibi temp. Mohammed: the Alfíyah-grammar of Ibn Málik is in Rajaz Muzdawij, the hemistichs rhyming and the assonance being confined to the couplet. Al–Hariri also affects Rajaz in the third and fifth Assemblies. So far Arabic metre is true to Nature: in impassioned speech the movement of language is iambic: we say “I will, I will,” not “I will.”
For many generations the Sons of the Desert were satisfied with Nature’s teaching; the fine perceptions and the nicely trained ear of the bard needing no aid from art. But in time came the inevitable prosodist under the formidable name of Abu Abd al- Rahmán al-Khalíl, i. Ahmad, i. Amrú, i. Tamím al-Faráhidi (of the Faráhid sept), al-Azdi (of the Azd clan), al Yahmadi (of the Yahmad tribe), popularly known as Al–Khalíl ibn Ahmad al-Basri, of Bassorah, where he died æt. 68, scanning verses they say, in A.H. 170 (= 786–87). Ibn Khallikán relates (i. 493) on the authority of Hamzah al-Isfaháni how this “father of Arabic grammar and discoverer of the rules of prosody” invented the science as he walked past a coppersmith’s shop on hearing the strokes of a hammer upon a metal basin: “two objects devoid of any quality which could serve as a proof and an illustration of anything else than their own form and shape and incapable of leading to any other knowledge than that of their own nature.”3 According to others he was passing through the Fullers’ Bazar at Basrah when his ear was struck by the Dak dak (Arabic letters) and the Dakak-dakak (Arabic letters) of the workmen. In these two onomapoetics we trace the expression which characterises the Arab tongue: all syllables are composed of consonant and vowel, the latter long or short as B and B; or of a vowelled consonant followed by a consonant as Bal, Bau (Arabic)
The grammarian, true to the traditions of his craft which looks for all poetry to the Badawi,4 adopted for metrical details the language of the Desert. The distich, which amongst Arabs is looked upon as one line, he named “Bayt,” nighting-place, tent or house; and the hemistich Misrá‘ah, the one leaf of a folding door. To this “scenic” simile all the parts of the verse were more or less adapted. The metres, our feet, were called “Arkán,” the stakes and stays of the tent; the syllables were “Usúl” or roots divided into three kinds: the first or “Sabab” (the tent-rope) is composed of two letters, a vowelled and a quiescent consonant as “Lam.”5 The “Watad” or tent peg of three letters is of two varieties; the Majmú’, or united, a foot in which the two first consonants are moved by vowels and the last is jazmated or made quiescent by apocope as “Lakad”; and the Mafrúk, or disunited, when the two moved consonants are separated by one jazmated, as “Kabla.” And lastly the “Fásilah” or intervening space, applied to the main pole of the tent, consists of four letters.
The metres were called Buhúr or “seas” (plur. of Bahr), also meaning the space within the tent-walls, the equivoque alluding to pearls and other treasures of the deep. Al–Khalil, the systematiser, found in general use only five Dáirah (circles, classes or groups of metre); and he characterised the harmonious and stately measures, all built upon the original Rajaz, as Al-Tawíl (the long),6 Al-Kámil (the complete), Al-Wáfir (the copious), Al–Basít (the extended) and Al–Khafíf (the light).7 These embrace all the Mu’allakát and the Hamásah, the great Anthology of Abú Tammám; but the crave for variety and the extension of foreign intercourse had multiplied wants and Al-Khalil deduced from the original five Dáirah, fifteen, to which Al–Akhfash (ob. A.D. 830) added a sixteenth, Al–Khabab. The Persians extended the number to nineteen: the first four were peculiarly Arab; the fourteenth, the fifteenth and seventeenth peculiarly Persian and all the rest were Arab and Persian.8
Arabic metre so far resembles that of Greece and Rome that the value of syllables depends upon the “quantity” or position of their consonants, not upon accent as in English and the Neo–Latin tongues. Al–Khalil was doubtless familiar with the classic prosody of Europe, but he rejected it as unsuited to the genius of Arabic and like a true Eastern Gelehrte he adopted a process devised by himself. Instead of scansion by pyrrhics and spondees, iambs and trochees, anapæsts and similar simplifications he invented a system of weights (“wuzún”). Of these there are nine9 memorial words used as quantitive signs, all built upon the root “fa’l” which has rendered such notable service to Arabic and Hebrew10 grammar and varying from the simple “fa’ál,” in Persian “fa’úl” (U _), to the complicated “Mutafá‘ilun”(UU— U—), anapæst + iamb. Thus the prosodist would scan the Shahnámeh of Firdausi as
Fa’úlun, fa’úlun, fa’úlun, fa’ál.
U—— U—— U—— —
These weights also show another peculiarity of Arabic verse. In English we have few if any spondees: the Arabic contains about three longs to one short; hence its gravity, stateliness and dignity. But these longs again are peculiar, and sometimes strike the European ear as shorts, thus adding a difficulty for those who would represent Oriental metres by western feet, ictus and accent. German Arabists can register an occasional success in such attempts: Englishmen none. My late friend Professor Palmer of Cambridge tried the tour de force of dancing on one leg instead of two and notably failed: Mr. Lyall also strove to imitate Arabic metre and produced only prose bewitched.11 Mr. Payne appears to me to have wasted trouble in “observing the exterior form of the stanza, the movement of the rhyme and (as far as possible) the identity in number of the syllables composing the beits.” There is only one part of his admirable version concerning which I have heard competent readers complain; and that is the metrical, because here and there it sounds strange to their ears.
I have already stated my conviction that there are two and only two ways of translating Arabic poetry into English. One is to represent it by good heroic or lyric verse as did Sir William Jones; the other is to render it after French fashion, by measured and balanced Prose, the little sister of Poetry. It is thus and thus only that we can preserve the peculiar cachet of the original. This old world Oriental song is spirit-stirring as a “blast of that dread horn,” albeit the words be thin. It is heady as the “Golden Wine” of Libanus, to the tongue water and brandy to the brain — the clean contrary of our nineteenth century effusions. Technically speaking, it can be vehicled only by the verse of the old English ballad or by the prose of the Book of Job. And Badawi poetry is a perfect expositor of Badawi life, especially in the good and gladsome old Pagan days ere Al–Islam, like the creed which it abolished, overcast the minds of men with its dull grey pall of realistic superstition. They combined to form a marvellous picture — those contrasts of splendour and squalor amongst the sons of the sand. Under airs pure as æther, golden and ultramarine above and melting over the horizon into a diaphanous green which suggested a resection of Kaf, that unseen mountain-wall of emerald, the so-called Desert, changed face twice a year; now brown and dry as summer-dust; then green as Hope, beautified with infinite verdure and broad sheetings of rain-water. The vernal and autumnal shiftings of camp, disruptions of homesteads and partings of kith and kin, friends and lovers, made the life many-sided as it was vigorous and noble, the outcome of hardy frames, strong minds and spirits breathing the very essence of liberty and independence. The day began with the dawn-drink, “generous wine bought with shining ore,” poured into the crystal goblet from the leather bottle swinging before the cooling breeze. The rest was spent in the practice of weapons, in the favourite arrow game known as Al-Maysar, gambling which at least had the merit of feeding the poor; in racing for which the Badawin had a mania, and in the chase, the foray and the fray which formed the serious business of his life. And how picturesque the hunting scenes; the greyhound, like the mare, of purest blood; the falcon cast at francolin and coney; the gazelle standing at gaze; the desert ass scudding over the ground-waves; the wild cows or bovine antelopes browsing with their calves and the ostrich-chickens flocking round the parent bird! The Musámarah or night-talk round the camp-fire was enlivened by the lute-girl and the glee-man, whom the austere Prophet described as “roving distraught in every vale” and whose motto in Horatian vein was, “To day we shall drink, to-morrow be sober, wine this day, that day work.” Regularly once a year, during the three peaceful months when war and even blood revenge were held sacrilegious, the tribes met at Ukádh (Ocaz) and other fairsteads, where they held high festival and the bards strave in song and prided themselves upon doing honour to women and to the successful warriors of their tribe. Brief, the object of Arab life was to be — to be free, to be brave, to be wise; while the endeavours of other peoples was and is to have — to have wealth, to have knowledge, to have a name; and while moderns make their “epitome of life” to be, to do and to suffer. Lastly the Arab’s end was honourable as his life was stirring: few Badawin had the crowning misfortune of dying “the straw-death.”
The poetical forms in The Nights are as follows:— The Misrá‘ah or hemistich is half the “Bayt” which, for want of a better word, I have rendered couplet: this, however, though formally separated in Mss., is looked upon as one line, one verse; hence a word can be divided, the former part pertaining to the first and the latter to the second moiety of the distich. As the Arabs ignore blank verse, when we come upon a rhymeless couplet we know that it is an extract from a longer composition in monorhyme. The Kit’ah is a fragment, either an occasional piece or more frequently a portion of a Ghazal (ode) or Kasídah (elegy), other than the Matlá, the initial Bayt with rhyming distichs. The Ghazal and Kasídah differ mainly in length: the former is popularly limited to eighteen couplets: the latter begins at fifteen and is of indefinite number. Both are built upon monorhyme, which appears twice in the first couplet and ends all the others, e g., aa + ba + ca, etc.; nor may the same assonance be repeated, unless at least seven couplets intervene. In the best poets, as in the old classic verse of France, the sense must be completed in one couplet and not run on to a second; and, as the parts cohere very loosely, separate quotation can generally be made without injuring their proper effect. A favourite form is the Rubá‘i or quatrain, made familiar to English ears by Mr. Fitzgerald’s masterly adaptation of Omar-i-Khayyám: the movement is generally aa + ba, but it also appears as ab + cb, in which case it is a Kit’ah or fragment. The Murabbá, tetrastichs or four fold-song, occurs once only in The Nights (vol.i. 98); it is a succession of double Bayts or of four lined stanzas rhyming aa + bc + dc + ec: in strict form the first three hemistichs rhyme with one another only, independently of the rest of the poem, and the fourth with that of every other stanza, e.g., aa + ab + cb + db. The Mukhammas, cinquains or pentastichs (Night cmlxiv.), represents a stanza of two distichs and a hemistich in monorhyme, the fifth line being the “bob” or burden: each succeeding stanza affects a new rhyme, except in the fifth line, e.g., aaaab + ccccb + ddddb and so forth. The Muwwál is a simple popular song in four to six lines; specimens of it are given in the Egyptian grammar of my friend the late Dr. Wilhelm Spitta.12 The Muwashshah, or ornamented verse, has two main divisions: one applies to our acrostics in which the initials form a word or words; the other is a kind of Musaddas, or sextines, which occurs once only in The Nights (cmlxxxvii.). It consists of three couplets or six-line strophes: all the hemistichs of the first are in monorhyme; in the second and following stanzas the three first hemistichs take a new rhyme, but the fourth resumes the assonance of the first set and is followed by the third couplet of No. 1, serving as bob or refrain, e.g., aaaaaa + bbbaaa + cccaaa and so forth. It is the most complicated of all the measures and is held to be of Morisco or Hispano–Moorish origin.
Mr. Lane (Lex.) lays down, on the lines of Ibn Khallikan (i. 476, etc.) and other representative literati, as our sole authorities for pure Arabic, the precedence in the following order: First of all ranks the Jáhili (Ignoramus) of The Ignorance, these pagans left hemistichs, couplets, pieces and elegies which once composed a large corpus and which is now mostly forgotten. Hammád al-Ráwiyah, the Reciter, a man of Persian descent (ob. A.H. 160=777) who first collected the Mu’allakát, once recited by rote in a séance before Caliph Al–Walid two thousand poems of præ-Mohammedan bards.13 After the Jáhili stands the Mukhadram or Muhadrim, the “Spurious,” because half Pagan half Moslem, who flourished either immediately before or soon after the preaching of Mohammed. The Islámi or full-blooded Moslem at the end of the first century A.H ( = 720) began the process of corruption in language; and, lastly he was followed by the Muwallad of the second century who fused Arabic with non- Arabic and in whom purity of diction disappeared.
I have noticed (I § A.) that the versical portion of The Nights may be distributed into three categories. First are the olden poems which are held classical by all modern Arabs; then comes the mediæval poetry, the effusions of that brilliant throng which adorned the splendid Court of Harun al-Rashid and which ended with Al–Haríri (ob. A.H. 516); and, lastly, are the various pièces de circonstance suggested to editors or scribes by the occasion. It is not my object to enter upon the historical part of the subject: a mere sketch would have neither value not interest whilst a finished picture would lead too far: I must be contented to notice a few of the most famous names.
Of the præ-Islamites we have Ádi bin Zayd al-Ibádi the “celebrated poet” of Ibn Khallikán (i. 188); Nábighat (the full-grown) al-Zubyáni who flourished at the Court of Al–Nu’man in AD. 580–602, and whose poem is compared with the “Suspendeds,’’14 and Al–Mutalammis the “pertinacious” satirist, friend and intimate with Tarafah of the “Prize Poem.” About Mohammed’s day we find Imr al-Kays “with whom poetry began,” to end with Zú al-Rummah; Amrú bin Mádi Karab al-Zubaydi, Labíd; Ka’b ibn Zuhayr, the father one of the Mu’al-lakah-poets, and the son author of the Burdah or Mantle-poem (see vol. iv. 115), and Abbás bin Mirdás who lampooned the Prophet and had “his tongue cut out” i.e. received a double share of booty from Ali. In the days of Caliph Omar we have Alkamah bin Olátha followed by Jamíl bin Ma’mar of the Banu Ozrah (ob. A.H. 82), who loved Azzá. Then came Al–Kuthayyir (the dwarf, ironicè), the lover of Buthaynah, “who was so lean that birds might be cut to bits with her bones:” the latter was also a poetess (Ibn Khall. i. 87), like Hind bint al-Nu’man who made herself so disagreeable to Al–Hajjáj (ob. A.H. 95) Jarír al-Khatafah, the noblest of the Islami poets in the first century, is noticed at full length by Ibn Khallikan (i. 294) together with his rival in poetry and debauchery, Abú Firás Hammám or Homaym bin Ghalib al-Farazdak, the Tamími, the Ommiade poet “without whose verse half Arabic would be lost:”15 he exchanged satires with Jarír and died forty days before him (A.H. 110). Another contemporary, forming the poetical triumvirate of the period, was the debauched Christian poet Al–Akhtal al-Taghlibi. They were followed by Al-Ahwas al-Ansári whose witty lampoons banished him to Dahlak Island in the Red Sea (ob. A.H. 179 = 795); by Bashshár ibn Burd and by Yúnus ibn Habib (ob. A.H. 182).
The well known names of the Harun-cycle are Al–Asma’i, rhetorician and poet, whose epic with Antar for hero is not forgotten (ob. A.H. 216); Isaac of Mosul (Ishak bin Ibrahim of Persian origin); Al-‘Utbi “the Poet” (ob. A.H. 228); Abu al-Abbás al-Rakáshi; Abu al-Atahiyah, the lover of Otbah; Muslim bin al-Walíd al-Ansari; Abú Tammám of Tay, compiler of the Hamásah (ob. A.H. 230), “a Muwallad of the first class” (says Ibn Khallikan i. 392); the famous or infamous Abu Nowás, Abu Mus’ab (Ahmad ibn Ali) who died in A.H. 242; the satirist Dibil al-Khuzáí (ob. A.H. 246) and a host of others quos nunc perscribere longum est. They were followed by Al–Bohtori “the Poet” (ob. A.H. 286); the royal author Abdullah ibn al-Mu’tazz (ob. A.H. 315); Ibn Abbád the Sahib (ob. A.H. 334); Mansúr al-Halláj the martyred Sufi; the Sahib ibn Abbad, Abu Faras al-Hamdáni (ob. A.H. 357); Al-Námi (ob. A.H. 399) who had many encounters with that model Chauvinist Al–Mutanabbi, nicknamed Al–Mutanabbih (the “wide awake”), killed A.H. 354; Al–Manázi of Manazjird (ob. 427); Al–Tughrai author of the Lámiyat al-‘Ajam (ob. A.H. 375); Al–Haríri the model rhetorician (ob. A.H. 516); Al-Hájiri al-Irbili, of Arbela (ob. A.H. 632); Bahá al-Din al-Sinjari (ob. A.H. 622); Al-Kátib or the Scribe (ob. A.H. 656); Abdun al-Andalúsi the Spaniard (our xiith century) and about the same time Al-Náwaji, author of the Halbat al-Kumayt or”Race course of the Bay horse”— poetical slang for wine.16
Of the third category, the pièces d’occasion, little need be said: I may refer readers to my notes on the doggrels in vol. ii. 34, 35, 56, 179, 182, 186 and 261; in vol. v. 55 and in vol. viii. 50.
Having a mortal aversion to the details of Arabic prosody, I have persuaded my friend Dr. Steingass to undertake in the following pages the subject as far as concerns the poetry of The Nights. He has been kind enough to collaborate with me from the beginning, and to his minute lexicographical knowledge I am deeply indebted for discovering not a few blemishes which would have been “nuts to the critic.” The learned Arabist’s notes will be highly interesting to students: mine ( §V.) are intended to give a superficial and popular idea of the Arab’s verse mechanism.
“The principle of Arabic Prosody (called ‘Arúz, pattern standard, or ‘Ilm al-‘Arúz, science of the ‘Arúz), in so far resembles that of classical poetry, as it chiefly rests on metrical weight, not on accent, or in other words a verse is measured by short and long quantities, while the accent only regulates its rhythm. In Greek and Latin, however, the quantity of the syllables depends on their vowels, which may be either naturally short or long, or become long by position, i.e. if followed by two or more consonants. We all remember from our school-days what a fine string of rules had to be committed to and kept in memory, before we were able to scan a Latin or Greek verse without breaking its neck by tripping over false quantities. In Arabic, on the other hand, the answer to the question, what is metrically long or short, is exceedingly simple, and flows with stringent cogency from the nature of the Arabic Alphabet. This, strictly speaking, knows only consonants (Harf, pl. Hurúf). The vowels which are required, in order to articulate the consonants, were at first not represented in writing at all. They had to be supplied by the reader, and are not improperly called “motions” (Harakát), because they move or lead on, as it were, one letter to another. They are three in number, a (Fathah), i (Kasrah), u (Zammah), originally sounded as the corresponding English vowels in bat, bit and butt respectively, but in certain cases modifying their pronunciation under the influence of a neighbouring consonant. When the necessity made itself felt to represent them in writing, especially for the sake of fixing the correct reading of the Koran, they were rendered by additional signs, placed above or beneath the consonant, after which they are pronounced, in a similar way as it is done in some systems of English shorthand. A consonant followed by a short vowel is called a “moved letter” (Muharrakah); a consonant without such vowel is called “resting” or “quiescent” (Sákinah), and can stand only at the end of a syllable or word.
And now we are able to formulate the one simple rule, which determines the prosodical quantity in Arabic: any moved letter, as ta, li, mu, is counted short; any moved letter followed by a quiescent one, as taf, fun, mus, i.e. any closed syllable beginning and terminating with a consonant and having a short vowel between, forms a long quantity. This is certainly a relief in comparison with the numerous rules of classical Prosody, proved by not a few exceptions, which for instance in Dr. Smith’s elementary Latin Grammar fill eight closely printed pages.
Before I proceed to show how from the prosodical unities, the moved and the quiescent letter, first the metrical elements, then the feet and lastly the metres are built up, it will be necessary to obviate a few misunderstandings, to which our mode of transliterating Arabic into the Roman character might give rise.
The line::
“Love in my heart they lit and went their ways,” (vol. i. 232)
runs in Arabic:
“Akámú al-wajda fí kalbí wa sárú” (Mac. Ed. i. 179).
Here, according to our ideas, the word akamú would begin with a short vowel a, and contain two long vowels á and ú; according to Arabic views neither is the case. The word begins with “Alif,” and its second syllable ká closes in Alif after Fathah (a), in the same way, as the third syllable mú closes in the letter Wáw (w) after Zammah (u).
The question, therefore, arises, what is “Alif.” It is the first of the twenty-eight Arabic letters, and has through the medium of the Greek Alpha nominally entered into our alphabet, where it now plays rather a misleading part. Curiously enough, however, Greek itself has preserved for us the key to the real nature of the letter. In ‘{Greek text} the initial a is preceded by the so called spiritus lends (’), a sign which must be placed in front or at the top of any vowel beginning a Greek word, and which represents that slight aspiration or soft breathing almost involuntarily uttered, when we try to pronounce a vowel by itself. We need not go far to find how deeply rooted this tendency is and to what exaggerations it will sometimes lead. Witness the gentleman who, after mentioning that he had been visiting his “favourite haunts” on the scenes of his early life, was sympathetically asked, how the dear old ladies were. This spiritus lends is the silent h of the French “homme” and the English “honour,” corresponding exactly to the Arabic Hamzah, whose mere prop the Alif is, when it stands at the beginning of a word: a native Arabic Dictionary does not begin with Báb al-Alif (Gate or Chapter of the Alif), but with Báb al-Hamzah. What the Greeks call Alpha and have transmitted to us as a name for the vowel a, is in fact nothing else but the Arabic Hamzah–Alif,(~)moved by Fathah, i.e. bearing the sign(~) for a at the top (~), just as it might have the sign Zammah (~) superscribed to express u (~), or the sign Kasrah (~) subjoined to represent i(~). In each case the Hamzah–Alif, although scarcely audible to our ear, is the real letter and might fitly be rendered in transliteration by the above mentioned silent h, wherever we make an Arabic word begin with a vowel not preceded by any other sign. This latter restriction refers to the sign ‘, which in Sir Richard Burton’s translation of The Nights, as frequently in books published in this country, is used to represent the Arabic letter ~ in whose very name ‘Ayn it occurs. The ‘Ayn is “described as produced by a smart compression of the upper part of the windpipe and forcible emission of breath,” imparting a guttural tinge to a following or preceding vowel-sound; but it is by no means a mere guttural vowel, as Professor Palmer styles it. For Europeans, who do not belong to the Israelitic dispensation, as well as for Turks and Persians, its exact pronunciation is most difficult, if not impossible to acquire.
In reading Arabic from transliteration for the purpose of scanning poetry, we have therefore in the first instance to keep in mind that no Arabic word or syllable can begin with a vowel. Where our mode of rendering Arabic in the Roman character would make this appear to be the case, either Hamzah (silent h), or ‘Ayn (represented by the sign’) is the real initial, and the only element to be taken in account as a letter. It follows as a self- evident corollary that wherever a single consonant stands between two vowels, it never closes the previous syllable, but always opens the next one. Our word “Akámu,” for instance, can only be divided into the syllables: A (properly Ha)-ká-mú, never into Ak-á-mú or Ak-ám-ú.
It has been stated above that the syllable ká is closed by the letter Alif after Fathah, in the same way as the syllable mú is closed by the letter Wáw, and I may add now, as the word fí is closed by the letter Yá (y). To make this perfectly clear, I must repeat that the Arabic Alphabet, as it was originally written, deals only with consonants. The signs for the short vowel-sounds were added later for a special purpose, and are generally not represented even in printed books, e.g. in the various editions of The Nights, where only quotations from the Koran or poetical passages are provided with the vowel-points. But among those consonants there are three, called weak letters (Hurúf al-‘illah), which have a particular organic affinity to these vowel sounds: the guttural Hamzah, which is akin to a, the palatal Yá, which is related to i, and the labial Wáw, which is homogeneous with u. Where any of the weak letters follows a vowel of its own class, either at the end of a word or being itself followed by another consonant, it draws out or lengthens the preceding vowel and is in this sense called a letter of prolongation (Harf al-Madd). Thus, bearing in mind that the Hamzah is in reality a silent h, the syllable ká might be written kah, similarly to the German word “sah,” where the h is not pronounced either, but imparts a lengthened sound to the a. In like manner mú and fí are written in Arabic muw and fiy respectively, and form long quantities not because they contain a vowel long by nature, but because their initial “Muharrakah” is followed by a “Sákinah,” exactly as in the previously mentioned syllables taf, fun, mus.17 In the Roman transliteration, Akámú forms a word of five letters, two of which are consonants, and three vowels; in Arabic it represents the combination H(a)k(a)hm(u)w, consisting also of five letters but all consonants, the intervening vowels being expressed in writing either merely by superadded external signs, or more frequently not at all. Metrically it represents one short and two long quantities (U——), forming in Latin a trisyllable foot, called Bacchíus, and in Arabic a quinqueliteral “Rukn” (pillar) or “Juz” (part, portion), the technical designation for which we shall introduce presently.
There is one important remark more to be made with regard to the Hamzah: at the beginning of a word it is either conjunctive, Hamzat al-Wasl, or disjunctive, Hamzat al-Kat’. The difference is best illustrated by reference to the French so-called aspirated h, as compared with the above-mentioned silent h. If the latter, as initial of a noun, is preceded by the article, the article loses its vowel, and, ignoring the silent h altogether, is read with the following noun almost as one word: le homme becomes l’homme (pronounced lomme) as le ami becomes l’ami. This resembles very closely the Arabic Hamzah Wasl. If, on the other hand, a French word begins with an aspirated h, as for instance héros, the article does not drop its vowel before the noun, nor is the h sounded as in the English word “hero,” but the effect of the aspirate is simply to keep the two vowel sounds apart, so as to pronounce le éros with a slight hiatus between, and this is exactly what happens in the case of the Arabic Hamzah Kat’.
With regard to the Wasl, however, Arabic goes a step further than French. In the French example, quoted above, we have seen it is the silent h and the preceding vowel which are eliminated; in Arabic both the Hamzah and its own Harakah, i.e. the short vowel following it, are supplanted by their antecedent. Another example will make this clear. The most common instance of the Hamzah Wasl is the article al (for h(a)l=the Hebrew hal), where it is moved by Fathah. But it has this sound only at the beginning of a sentence or speech, as in “Al–Hamdu” at the head of the Fatihah, or in “Alláhu” at the beginning of the third Surah. If the two words stand in grammatical connection, as in the sentence “Praise be to God,” we cannot say “Al–Hamdu li-Alláhi,” but the junction (Wasl) between the dative particle li and the noun which it governs must take place. According to the French principle, this junction would be effected at the cost of the preceding element and li Alláhi would become l’Alláhí; in Arabic, on the contrary, the kasrated l of the particle takes the place of the following fathated Hamzah and we read li ‘lláhi instead. Proceeding in the Fatihah we meet with the verse “Iyyáka na’budu wa iyyáka nasta’ínu,” Thee do we worship and of Thee do we ask aid. Here the Hamzah of iyyáka (properly hiyyáka with silent h) is disjunctive, and therefore its pronunciation remains the same at the beginning and in the middle of the sentence, or, to put it differently, instead of coalescing with the preceding wa into wa’yyáka, the two words are kept separate by the Hamzah, reading wa iyyáka, just as it was the case with the French Le héros.
If the conjunctive Hamzah is preceded by a quiescent letter, this takes generally Kasrah: “Tálat al-Laylah,” the night was longsome, would become Tálati ‘l-Laylah. If, however, the quiescent letter is one of prolongation, it mostly drops out altogether, and the Harakah of the next preceding letter becomes {he connecting vowel between the two words, which in our parlance would mean that the end vowel of the first word is shortened before the elided initial of the second. Thus “fí al-bayti,” in the house, which in Arabic is written f(i)y h(a)l-b(a)yt(i) and which we transliterate fí ‘l-bayti, is in poetry read fil-bayti, where we must remember that the syllable fil, in spite of its short vowel, represents a long quantity, because it consists of a moved letter followed by a quiescent one. Fíl would be overlong and could, according to Arabic prosody, stand only in certain cases at the end of a verse, i.e. in pause, where a natural tendency prevails to prolong a sound.
The attentive reader will now be able to fix the prosodical value of the line quoted above with unerring security. For metrical purposes it syllabifies into: A-ká-mul-vaj-da fí kal-bí wa sá-rú, containing three short and eight long quantities. The initial unaccented a is short, for the same reason why the syllables da and wa are so, that is, because it corresponds to an Arabic letter, the Hamzah or silent h, moved by Fathah. The syllables ká, fí, bí, sá, rú are long for the same reason why the syllables mul, waj, kal are so, that is, because the accent in the transliteration corresponds to a quiescent Arabic letter, following a moved one. The same simple criterion applies to the whole list, in which I give in alphabetical order the first lines and the metre of all the poetical pieces contained in the Mac. edition, and which will be found at the end of this volume. {This appendix is not included in the electronic text}
The prosodical unities, then, in Arabic are the moved and the quiescent letter, and we are now going to show how they combine into metrical elements, feet, and metres.
i. The metrical elements (Usúl) are:
The Sabab,18 which consists of two letters and is either khafíf (light) or sakíl (heavy). A moved letter followed by a quiescent, i.e. a closed syllable, like the afore-mentioned taf, fun, mus, to which we may now add fá=fah, ‘í=‘iy, ‘ú=‘uw, form a Sabab khafíf, corresponding to the classical long quantity (-). Two moved letters in succession, like mute, ‘ala, constitute a Sabab sakíl, for which the classical name would be Pyrrhic (U U). As in Latin and Greek, they are equal in weight and can frequently interchange, that is to say, the Sabab khafíf can be evolved into a sakíl by moving its second Harf, or the latter contracted into the former, by making its second letter quiescent.
The Watad, consisting of three letters, one of which is quiescent. If the quiescent follows the two moved ones, the Watad is called majmú’ (collected or joined), as fa’ú (=fa’uw), mafá (=mafah), ‘ilun, and it corresponds to the classical Iambus (U— ). If, on the contrary, the quiescent intervenes or separates between the two moved letters, as in fá‘i ( = fah’i), látu (=lahtu), taf’i, the Watad is called mafrúk (separated), and has its classical equivalent in the Trochee (— U)
The Fásilah,19 containing four letters, i.e. three moved ones followed by a quiescent, and which, in fact, is only a shorter name for a Sabab sakíl followed by a Sabab khafíf, as mute + fá, or ‘ala + tun, both of the measure of the classical Anapaest (U U—)
ii. These three elements, the Sabab, Watad and Fásilah, combine further into feet Arkáan, pl. of Rukn, or Ajzáa, pl. of Juz, two words explained supra p. 236. The technical terms by which the feet are named are derivatives of the root fa’l, to do, which, as the student will remember, serves in Arabic Grammar to form the Auzán or weights, in accordance with which words are derived from roots. It consists of the three letters Fá (f), ‘Ayn (’), Lám (l), and, like any other Arabic root, cannot strictly speaking be pronounced, for the introduction of any vowel-sound would make it cease to be a root and change it into an individual word. The above fa’l, for instance, where the initial Fá is moved by Fathah (a), is the Infinitive or verbal noun, “to do,” “doing.” If the ‘Ayn also is moved by Fathah, we obtain fa’al, meaning in colloquial Arabic “he did” (the classical or literary form would be fa’ala). Pronouncing the first letter with Zammah (u), the second with Kasrah (i), i.e., fu’il, we say “it was done” (classically fu’ila). Many more forms are derived by prefixing, inserting or subjoining certain additional letters called Hurúf al-Ziyádah (letters of increase) to the original radicals: fá‘il, for instance, with an Alif of prolongation in the first syllable, means “doer”; maf’úl (=maf’uwl), where the quiescent Fá is preceded by a fathated Mím (m), and the zammated ‘Ayn followed by a lengthening Waw, means “done”; Mufá‘alah, where, in addition to a prefixed and inserted letter, the feminine termination ah is subjoined after the Lám, means “to do a thing reciprocally.” Since these and similar changes are with unvarying regularity applicable to all roots, the grammarians use the derivatives of Fa’l as model-forms for the corresponding derivations of any other root, whose letters are in this case called its Fá, ‘Ayn and Lám. From a root, e.g., which has Káf (k) for its first letter or Fá, Tá (t) for its second letter or ‘Aye, and Bá (b) for its third letter or Lám
fa’l would be katb =to write, writing;
fa’al would be katab =he wrote;
fu’il would be kutib =it was written;
fa’il would be katib =writer, scribe;
maf’úl would be maktúb=written, letter;
mufá‘alah would be mukátabah = to write reciprocally, correspondence.
The advantage of this system is evident. It enables the student, who has once grasped the original meaning of a root, to form scores of words himself, and in his readings, to understand hundreds, nay thousands, of words, without recourse to the Dictionary, as soon as he has learned to distinguish their radical letters from the letters of increase, and recognises in them a familiar root. We cannot wonder, therefore, that the inventor of Arabic Prosody readily availed himself of the same plan for his own ends. The Taf’íl, as it is here called, that is, the representation of the metrical feet by current derivatives of fa’l, has in this case, of course, nothing to do with the etymological meaning of those typical forms. But it proves none the less useful in another direction: in simply naming a particular foot it shows at the same time its prosodical measure and character, as will now be explained in detail.
We have seen supra p. 236 that the word Akámú consists of a short syllable followed by two long ones (U——), and consequently forms a foot, which the classics would call Bacchíus. In Latin there is no connection between this name and the metrical value of the foot: we must learn both by heart. But if we are told that its Taf’íl in Arabic is Fa’úlun, we understand at once that it is composed of the Watad majmú’ fa’ú (U—) and the Sabab khafíf lun (-), and as the Watad contains three, the Sabab two letters, it forms a quinqueliteral foot or Juz khamásí.
In combining into feet, the Watad has the precedence over the Sabab and the Fásilah, and again the Watad majmú’ over the Watad mafrúk. Hence the Prosodists distinguish between Ajzá aslíyah or primary feet (from Asl, root), in which this precedence is observed, and Ájzá far’íyah or secondary feet (from Far’= branch), in which it is reversed. The former are four in number:-
1. Fa’ú.lun, consisting,as we have just seen, of a Watad majmú’ followed by a Sabab khafíf = the Latin Bacchíus (U— —).
2. Mafá.’í.lun, i.e. Watad majmú’ followed by two Sabab khafíf = the Latin Epitritus primus (U—— —).
3. Mufá.‘alatun, i.e. Watad majmú’ followed by Fásilah = the Latin Iambus followed by Anapaest (U— UU—).
4. Fá‘i.lá.tun, i.e. Watad mafrúk followed by two Sabab khafíf = the Latin Epitritus secundus (-U——).
The number of the secondary feet increases to six, for as Nos. 2 and 4 contain two Sabab, they “branch out” into two derived feet each, according to both Sabab or only one changing place with regard to the Watad. They are:
5. Fá.‘ilun, i.e. Sabab khafíf followed by Watad majmú’= the Latin Creticus (-U-). The primary Fa’ú.lun becomes by transposition Lun.fa’ú. To bring this into conformity with a current derivative of fa’l, the initial Sabab must be made to contain the first letter of the root, and the Watad the two remaining ones in their proper order. Fá is therefore substituted for lun, and ‘ilun for fa’ú, forming together the above Fá.‘ilun. By similar substitutions, which it would be tedious to specify in each separate case, Mafá.’í.lun becomes:
6. Mus.taf.‘ilun, for ‘Í.lun.mafá, i.e. two Sabab khafíf, followed by Watad majmú’ = the Latin Epitritus tertius (— — U-), or:
7. Fá.‘ilá.tun, for Lun.mafá.’í, i.e. Watad majmú’ between two Sabab khafíf = the Latin Epitritus secundus (-U— —).
8. Mutafá.‘ilun (for ‘Alatun.mufá, the reversed Mufá.‘alatun), i.e. Fásilah followed by Watad majmú’=the Latin Anapaest succeeded by Iambus (UU-U-). The last two secondary feet are transpositions of No. 4, Fá‘i.lá.tun, namely:
9. Maf.’ú.látu, for Lá.tun.fá‘i, i.e. two Sabab khafíf, followed by Watad mafrúk = the Latin Epitritus quartus (—— — U).
10. Mus.taf’i.lun, for Tun.fá‘i.lá, i.e. Watad mafrúk between two Sabab khafíf=the Latin Epitritus tertius (—— U-).20
The “branch”-foot Fá.‘ilun (No. 5), like its “root” Fa’ú.lun (No. 1), is quinqueliteral. All other feet, primary or secondary, consist necessarily of seven letters, as they contain a triliteral Watad (see supra i. 2) with either two biliteral Sabab khafíf (i. 1) or a quadriliteral Fásilah (i. 3). They are, therefore, called Sabá’í = seven lettered.
iii. The same principle of the Watad taking precedence over Sabab and Fásilah, rules the arrangement of the Arabic metres, which are divided into five circles (Dawáir, pl. of Dáirah), so called for reasons presently to be explained. The first is named:
A. Dáirat al-Mukhtalif, circle of “the varied” metre, because it is composed of feet of various length, the five-lettered Fa’úlun (supra ii. 1) and the seven-lettered Mafá’ílun (ii. 2) with their secondaries Fá‘ilun, Mustaf.‘ilun and Fá.‘ilátun (ii. 5–7), and it comprises three Buhúr or metres (pi. of Bahr, sea), the Tawíl, Madíd and Basít.
1. Al–Tawil, consisting of twice
Fa’ú.lun Mafá.’ílun Fa’ú.lun Mafá.’ílun,
the classical scheme for which would be
U—— | U—— — | U—— | U—— — |
If we transfer the Watad Fa’ú from the beginning of the line to the end, it would read:
Lun.mafá’í Lun.fa’ú Lun.mafá’í Lun.fa’ú
which, after the substitutions indicated above (ii. 7 and 5), becomes:
2. Al–Madíd, consisting of twice
Fá.‘ilátun Fá.‘ilun Fá.‘ilátun Fá.‘ilun.
which may be represented by the classical scheme
— U—— | — U— | — U—— | — U— |
If again, returning to the Tawíl, we make the break after the Watad of the second foot we obtain the line:
‘Ílun.fa’ú. Lum.mafá ‘Ílun.fa’u Lun.mafá, and as metrically
‘Ílun.fa’ú (two Sabab followed by Watad) and Lun.mafá (one Sabab followed by Watad) are=’Ílun.mafá and Lun.fa’ú respectively, their Taf’il is effected by the same substitutions as in ii. 5 and 6, and they become:
3. Basít, consisting of twice
Mustaf.‘ilun Fá.‘ilun Mustaf.‘ilun Fá.‘ilun,
in conformity with the classical scheme:
—— U— | — U— | —— U— | — U— |
Thus one metre evolves from another by a kind of rotation, which suggested to the Prosodists an ingenious device of representing them by circles (hence the name Dáirah), round the circumference of which on the outside the complete Taf’íl of the original metre is written, while each moved letter is faced by a small loop, each quiescent by a small vertical stroke21 inside the circle. Then, in the case of this present Dáirat al-Mukhtalif for instance, the loop corresponding to the initial f of the first Fa’úlun is marked as the beginning of the Tawíl, that corresponding to its l (of the Sabab fun) as the beginning of the Madid, and that corresponding to the ‘Ayn of the next Mafá’ílun as the beginning of the Basít. The same process applies to all the following circles, but our limited space compels us simply to enumerate them, together with their Buhúr, without further reference to the mode of their evolution.
B. Dáirat al-Mútalif, circle of “the agreeing” metre, so called because all its feet agree in length, consisting of seven letters each. It contains:
1. Al-Wáfir, composed of twice
Mufá.‘alatun Mufá.‘alatun Mufá.‘alatun (ii. 3)
= U— U U— | U— U U— | U— U U— |
where the Iambus in each foot precedes the Anapaest, and its reversal:
2. Al-Kámil, consisting of twice
Mutafá.‘ilun Mutafá.‘ilun Mutafá.‘ilun (ii. 8)
= U U— U— | U U— U— | U U— U— |
where the Anapaest takes the first place in every foot.
C. Dáirat al-Mujtalab, circle of “the brought on” metre, so called because its seven-lettered feet are brought on from the first circle.
1. Al–Hazaj, consisting of twice
Mafá.’ílun Mafá.’ílun Mafá.’ílun (ii. 2)
= U—— — | U—— — | U—— — | U—— — |
2. Al–Rajaz, consisting of twice
Mustaf.‘ilun Mustaf.‘ilun Mustaf.‘ilun,
and, in this full form, almost identical with the Iambic Trimeter of the Greek Drama:
—— U— | —— U— | —— U— |
3. Al–Ramal, consisting of twice
Fá.‘ilátun Fá.‘ilátun Fá.‘ilátun,
the trochaic counterpart of the preceding metre
= — U—— | — U—— | — U—— |
D. Dáirat al-Mushtabih, circle of “the intricate” metre, so called from its intricate nature, primary mingling with secondary feet, and one foot of the same verse containing a Watad majmú’, another a Watad mafrúk, i.e. the iambic rhythm alternating with the trochaic and vice versa. Its Buhúr are:
1. Al–Sarí’, twice
Mustaf.‘ilun Mustaf.‘ilun Maf’ú.látu (ii. 6 and 9)
= —— U— | —— U— | —— — U |
2. Al–Munsarih, twice
Mustaf.‘ilun Mafú.látu Mustaf.‘ilun (ii. 6. 9. 6)
= —— U— | —— — U | —— U— |
3. Al–Khafíf, twice
Fá.’ílátun Mustaf’i.lun Fá.’ílátun (ii. 7.10.7)
= — U—— | —— U— | — U—— |
4. Al–Muzári’, twice
Mafá.’ílun Fá’í.látun Mafá.’ílun (ii. 2.4.2)
= U—— — | — U—— | U—— — |
5. Al–Muktazib, twice
Maf’ú.látu Mustaf.‘ilun Maf’ú.látu (ii. 9.6.9)
= —— — U | —— U— | —— — U |
6. Al–Mujtass, twice
Mustaf’i.lun Fá.’ílátun Mustaf’ i.lun (ii. 10.7.10)
= —— U— | — U—— | —— U— |
E. Dáirat al-Muttafik, circle of “the concordant” metre, so called for the same reason why circle B is called “the agreeing,” i.e. because the feet all harmonise in length, being here, however, quinqueliteral, not seven-lettered as in the Mátalif. Al–Khalil the inventor of the ‘‘Ilm al-‘Arúz, assigns to it only one metre:
1. Al–Mutakárib, twice
Fa’úlun Fa’úlun Fa’úlun Fa’úlun (ii. 1)
= U—— | U—— | U—— |
Later Prosodists added:
2. Al–Mutadárak, twice
Fá‘ilun Fá‘ilun Fá‘ilun Fá‘ilun (ii. 5)
= — U— | — U— | — U— |
The feet and metres as given above are, however, to a certain extent merely theoretical; in practice the former admit of numerous licenses and the latter of variations brought about by modification or partial suppression of the feet final in a verse. An Arabic poem (Kasídah, or if numbering less than ten couplets, Kat’ah) consists of Bayts or couplets, bound together by a continuous rhyme, which connects the first two lines and is repeated at the end of every second line throughout the poem. The last foot of every odd line is called ‘Arúz (fem. in contradistinction of Arúz in the sense of Prosody which is masc.), pl. A’áiriz, that of every even line is called Zarb, pl. Azrub, and the remaining feet may be termed Hashw (stuffing), although in stricter parlance a further distinction is made between the first foot of every odd and even line as well.
Now with regard to the Hashw on the one hand, and the ‘Aruz and Zarb on the other, the changes which the normal feet undergo are of two kinds: Zuháf (deviation) and ‘Illah (defect). Zuháf applies, as a rule, occasionally and optionally to the second letter of a Sabab in those feet which compose the Hashw or body-part of a verse, making a long syllable short by suppressing its quiescent final, or contracting two short quantities in a long one, by rendering quiescent a moved letter which stands second in a Sabab sakíl. In Mustaf’ilun (ii. 6. = —— U—), for instance, the s of the first syllable, or the f of the second, or both may be dropped and it will become accordingly Mutaf’ilun, by substitution Mafá‘ilun (U— U—), or Musta’ilun, by substitution, Mufta’ilun (— U U—), or Muta’ilun, by substitution Fa’ilatun (U U U—).22 This means that wherever the foot Mustaf.‘ilun occurs in the Hashw of a poem, we can represent it by the scheme U U U— i.e. the Epitritus tertius can, by poetical licence, change into Diiambus, Choriambus or Paeon quartus. In Mufá‘alatun (ii. 3. = U— U U—) and Mutafá‘ilun (ii. 8. = U U— U—), again, the Sabab ‘ala and mute may become khafíf by suppression of their final Harakah and thus turn into Mufá‘altun, by substitution Mafá’ílun (ii. 2. = U—— —), and Mutfá‘ilun, by substitution Mustaf’ilun (ii 6.= —— U U as above). In other words the two feet correspond to the schemes U_U-U_ and U-U-U-, where a Spondee can take the place of the Anapaest after or before the Iambus respectively.
‘Illah, the second way of modifying the primitive or normal feet, applies to both Sabab and Watad, but only in the ‘Aruz and Zarb of a couplet, being at the same time constant and obligatory. Besides the changes already mentioned, it consists in adding one or two letters to a Sabab or Watad, or curtailing them more or less, even to cutting them off altogether. We cannot here exhaust this matter any more than those touched upon until now, but must be satisfied with an example or two, to show the proceeding in general and indicate its object.
We have seen that the metre Basít consists of the two lines:
Mustaf.‘ilun Fá.‘ilun Mustaf’ilun Fá‘ilun
Mustaf’ilun Fá‘ilun Mustaf’ilun Fá‘ilun.
This complete form, however, is not in use amongst Arab poets. If by the Zuháf Khabn, here acting as ‘Illah, the Alif in the final Fá‘ilun is suppressed, changing it into Fa’ilun (U U—), it becomes the first ‘Aruz, called makhbúnah, of the Basít, the first Zarb of which is obtained by submitting the final Fá‘ilun of the second line to the same process. A second Zarb results, if in Fá‘ilun the final n of the ‘Watad ‘ilun is cut off and the preceding l made quiescent by the ‘Illah Kat’ thus giving Fá‘il and by substitution Fa’lun (——). Thus the formula becomes:—
Mustaf’ilun Fá‘ilun Mustaf’ilun Fa’ilun
Mustaf’ilun Fá‘ilun Mustaf’ilun{Fa’ilun
{Fa’lun
As in the Hashw, i.e. the first three feet of each line, the Khabn can likewise be applied to the medial Fá‘ilun, and for Mustaf’ilun the poetical licences, explained above, may be introduced, this first ‘Arúz or Class of the Basít with its two Zarb or subdivisions will be represented by the scheme
U U | U | U U |
—— U— | — U— | —— U U | U U—
U U | U { U U—
—— U— | — U— { ——
that is to say in the first subdivision of this form of the Basít both lines of each couplet end with an Anapaest and every second line of the other subdivision terminates in a Spondee.
The Basít has four more A’áriz, three called majzúah, because each line is shortened by a Juz or foot, one called mashtúrah (halved), because the number of feet is reduced from four to two, and we may here notice that the former kind of lessening the number of feet is frequent with the hexametrical circles (B. C. D.), while the latter kind can naturally only occur in those circles whose couplet forms an octameter (A. E.). Besides being majzúah, the second ‘Aruz is sahíhah (perfect) consisting of the normal foot Mustaf’ilun. It has three Azrub: 1. Mustaf’ilán (—— U—‘, with an overlong final syllable, see supra p. 238), produced by the ‘Illah Tazyíl, i.e. addition of a quiescent letter at the end (Mustaf’ilunn, by substitution Mustaf’ilán); 2. Mustaf’ilun, like the ‘Aruz; 3. Maf’úlun (—— —), produced by the ‘Illah Kat’ (see the preceding page; Mustaf’ilun, by dropping the final n and making the l quiescent becomes Mustaf’il and by substitution Maf’úlun). Hence the formula is:
Mustaf’ilun Fá‘ilun Mustaf’ilun
{ Mustaf’il n
Mustaf’ilun Fá‘ilun{ Mustaf’ilun
{ Maf’úulun,
which, with its allowable licenses, may be represented by the scheme:
U U | U |
—— U— | — U— | —— U—
{ U U
U U | U { —— U—
—— U— | — U— { —— U—
{ U
{ —— —
The above will suffice to illustrate the general method of the Prosodists, and we must refer the reader for the remaining classes and subdivisions of the Basít as well as the other metres to more special treatises on the subject, to which this Essay is intended merely as an introduction, with a view to facilitate the first steps of the student in an important, but I fear somewhat neglected, field of Arabic learning.
If we now turn to the poetical pieces contained in The Nights, we find that out of the fifteen metres, known to al-Khalil, or the sixteen of later Prosodists, instances of thirteen occur in the Mac. N. edition, but in vastly different proportions. The total number amounts to 1,385 pieces (some, however, repeated several times), out of which 1,128 belong to the first two circles, leaving only 257 for the remaining three. The same disproportionality obtains with regard to the metres of each circle. The Mukhtalif is represented by 331 instances of Tawíl and 330 of Basít against 3 of Madíd; the Mutalif by 321 instances of Kámil against 143 of Wafír; the Mujtalab by 32 instances of Ramal and 30 of Rajaz against 1 of Hazaj; the Mushtabih by 72 instances of Khafíf and 52 of Sarí’ against 18 of Munsarih and 15 of Mujtass; and lastly the Muttafik by 37 instances of Mutakárib. Neither the Mutadárak (E. 2), nor the Muzári’ and Muktazib (D. 4.5) are met with.
Finally it remains for me to quote a couplet of each metre, showing how to scan them, and what relation they bear to the theoretical formulas exhibited on p. 242 to p. 247.
It is characteristic for the preponderance of the Tawíl over all the other metres, that the first four lines, with which my alphabetical list begins, are written in it. One of these belongs to a poem which has for its author Bahá al-Din Zuhayr (born A.D. 1186 at Mekkah or in its vicinity, ob. 1249 at Cairo), and is to be found in full in Professor Palmer’s edition of his works, p. 164. Sir Richard Burton translates the first Bayt (vol. i. 290):
An I quit Cairo and her pleasances
Where can I hope to find so gladsome ways?
Professor Palmer renders it:
Must I leave Egypt where such joys abound?
What place can ever charm me so again?
In Arabic it scans:
U— U | U—— — | U— U | U— U— |
A-arhalu’en Misrin wa tíbi na’ímihil23
U— U | U—— — | U— U | U— U— |
Fa-ayyu makánin ba’dahá li-ya sháiku.
In referring to iii. A. I. p. 242, it will be seen that in the Hashw Fa’úlun (U——) has become Fa’úlu (U— U) by a Zuháf called Kabz (suppression of the fifth letter of a foot if it is quiescent) and that in the ‘Arúz and Zarb Mafá’ílun (U—— —) has changed into Mafá‘ilun (U— U—) by the same Zuháf acting as ‘Illah. The latter alteration shows the couplet to be of the second Zarb of the first ‘Arúz of the Tawíl. If the second line did terminate in Mafá’ílun, as in the original scheme, it would be the first Zarb of the same ‘Arúz; if it did end in Fa’úlun (U——) or Mafá’íl (U——) it would represent the third or fourth subdivision of this first class respectively. The Tawíl has one other ‘Arúz, Fa’úlun, with a twofold Zarb, either Fa’úlun also, or Mafá‘ilun.
The first instance of the Basít occurring in The Nights are the lines translated vol. i. p. 25:
Containeth Time a twain of days, this of blessing, that of bane
And holdeth Life a twain of halves, this of pleasure, that of pain.
In Arabic (Mac. N. i. II):
—— U— | — U— | —— U— | U U— |
Al–Dahru yaumáni zá amnun wa zá hazaru
—— U— | — U— | —— U— | U U— |
Wa’l-‘Ayshu shatráni zá safwun wa zá kadaru.
Turning back to p. 243, where the A’áríz and Azrub of the Basít are shown, the student will have no difficulty to recognise the Bayt as one belonging to the first Zarb of the first ‘Arúz.
As an example of the Madid we quote the original of the lines (vol. v. 131):—
I had a heart, and with it lived my life
’Twas seared with fire and burnt with loving-lowe.
They read in Arabic:—
— U—— | — U— | U U— |
Kána lí kalbun a’íshu bihi
— U—— | — U— | U— |
Fa’ktawá bi’l-nári wa’htarak.
If we compare this with the formula (iii. A. 2. p. 242), we find that either line of the couplet is shortened by a foot; it is, therefore, majzú. The first ‘Arúz of this abbreviated metre is Fá‘ilátun (— U——), and is called sahíhah (perfect) because it consists of the normal third foot. In the second ‘Arúz, Fá‘ilátun loses its end syllable tun by the ‘Illah Hafz (suppression of a final Sabab khafíf), and becomes Fá‘ilá (— U—), for which Fá‘ilun is substituted. Shortening the first syllable of Fá‘ilun, i.e. eliminating the Alif by Khabn, we obtain the third ‘Arúz Fa’ilun (U U—) as that of the present lines, which has two Azrub: Fa’ilun, like the ‘Arúz, and Fa’lun (——), here, again by Khabn, further reduced to Fa’al (U—).
Ishak of Mosul, who improvises the piece, calls it “so difficult and so rare, that it went nigh to deaden the quick and to quicken the dead”; indeed, the native poets consider the metre Madíd as the most difficult of all, and it is scarcely ever attempted by later writers. This accounts for its rare occurrence in The Nights, where only two more instances are to be found, Mac. N. ii. 244 and iii. 404.
The second and third circle will best be spoken of together, as the Wáfir and Kámil have a natural affinity to the Hazaj and Rajaz. Let us revert to the line:—
U—— — | U—— — | U—— |
Akámú ‘l-wajda fí kalbí wa sárú.
Translated, as it were, into the language of the Prosodists it will be:—
Mafá’ílun24 ‘Mafá’ílun Fa’úlun,
and this, standing by itself, might prima facie be taken for a line of the Hazaj (iii. C. I), with the third Mafá’ílun shortened by Hafz (see above) into Mafá’í for which Fa’úlun would be substituted. We have seen (p. 247) that and how the foot Mufá‘alatun can change into Mafá’ílun, and if in any poem which otherwise would belong to the metre Hazaj, the former measure appears even in one foot only along with the latter, it is considered to be the original measure, and the poem counts no longer as Hazaj but as Wáfir. In the piece now under consideration, it is the second Bayt where the characteristic foot of the Wáfir first appears:—
U—— — | U— U U | U—— |
Naat ‘anní‘l-rubú‘u wa sákiníhá
U— U U— | U— U U— | U—— |
Wa kad ba’uda ‘l-mazáru fa-lá mazáru.
Anglicè (vol. iii. 296):—
Far lies the camp and those who camp therein;
Far is her tent shrine where I ne’er shall tent.
It must, however, be remarked that the Hazaj is not in use as a hexameter, but only with an ‘Arúz majzúah or shortened by one foot. Hence it is only in the second ‘Arúz of the Wafír, which is likewise majzúah, that the ambiguity as to the real nature of the metre can arise;25 and the isolated couplet:—
U—— — | U—— — | U—— |
Yárídu ‘l-mar-u an yu’tá munáhu
U—— — | U—— — | U—— |
Wa yabá ‘lláhu illá ma yurídu
Man wills his wish to him accorded be,
But Allah naught accords save what he wills (vol. iv. 157),
being hexametrical, forms undoubtedly part of a poem in Wafír although it does not contain the foot Mufá‘alatun at all. Thus the solitary instance of Hazaj in The Nights is Abú Nuwás’ abomination, beginning with:—
U—— — | U—— — |
Fa-lá tas’au ilá ghayrí
U—— — | U—— — |
Fa-‘indi ma’dinu ‘l-khayri (Mac. N. ii. 377).
Steer ye your steps to none but me
Who have a mine of luxury
(vol. v. 65).
If in the second ‘Arúz of the Wáfir, Maf’áílun (U—— —) is further shortened to Mafá‘ilun (U— U—), the metre resembles the second ‘Arúz of Rajaz, where, as we have seen, the latter foot can, by licence, take the place of the normal Mustaf’ilun (—— U -).
The Kámil bears a similar relation to the Rajaz, as the Wáfir bears to the Hazaj. By way of illustration we quote from Mac. N. ii. 8 the first two Bayts of a little poem taken from the 23rd Assembly of Al Hariri:—
—— U— | —— U— | U U— U— |
Yá khátiba ‘l-dunyá ‘l-daniyyati innahá
U U— U— | U U— U— | —— — |
Sharaku ‘l-radà wa karáratu ‘l-akdári
—— U— | —— U— | —— U— |
Dárun matà má azhakat fí yaumiha
—— U— | —— U— | —— — |
Abkat ghadan bu’dan lahá min dári.
In Sir Richard Burton’s translation (vol. iii. 319):—
O thou who woo’st a World unworthy, learn
’Tis house of evils,
’tis Perdition’s net:
A house where whoso laughs this day shall weep
The next; then perish house of fume and fret.
The ‘Arúz of the first couplet is Mutafá‘ilun, assigning the piece to the first or perfect (sahíhah) class of the Kámil. In the Hashw of the opening line and in that of the whole second Bayt this normal Mutafá‘ilun has, by licence, become Mustaf’ilun, and the same change has taken place in the ‘Arúz of the second couplet; for it is a peculiarity which this metre shares with a few others, to allow certain alterations of the kind Zuháf in the ‘Arúz and Zarb as well as in the Hashw. This class has three subdivisions: the Zarb of the first is Mutafá‘ilun, like the ‘Arúz the Zarb of the second is Fa’alátun (U U——), a substitution for Mutafá‘il which latter is obtained from Mutafá‘ilun by suppressing the final n and rendering the l quiescent; the Zarb of the third is Fa’lun (—— —) for Mútfá, derived from Mutafá‘ilun by cutting off the Watad ‘ilun and dropping the medial a of the remaining Mutafá.
If we make the ‘Ayn of the second Zarb Fa’alátun also quiescent by the permitted Zuháf Izmár, it changes into Fa’látun, by substitution Maf ‘úlun (—— —) which terminates the rhyming lines of the foregoing quotation. Consequently the two couplets taken together, belong to the second Zarb of the first ‘Aruz of the Kámil, and the metre of the poem with its licences may be represensed by the scheme:
— | — | — |
U U— U— | U U— U— | U U— U— |
— | — | — |
U U— U— | U U— U— | U U—— |
Taken isolated, on the other hand, the second Bayt might be of the metre Rajaz, whose first ‘Arúz Mustaf’ilun has two Azrub: one equal to the Arúz, the other Maf’úlun as above, but here substituted for Mustaf’il after applying the ‘Illah Kat’ (see p 247) to Mustaf’ilun. If this were the metre of the poem throughout the scheme with the licences peculiar to the Rajaz would be:
U U | U U | U U |
—— U U | —— U— | —— U— |
U U | U U | U |
—— U— | —— U— | —— — |
The pith of Al–Hariri’s Assembly is that the knight errant not to say the arrant wight of the Romance, Abú Sayd of Sarúj accuses before the Walí of Baghdad his pretended pupil, in reality his son, to have appropriated a poem of his by lopping off two feet of every Bayt. If this is done in the quoted lines, they read:
—— U— | —— U— |
Yá khátiba ‘l-dunyá ‘l-dandy.
U U— U | U U— U— |
Yati innahá sharaku ‘l-radá
—— U— | —— U— |
Dárun matà má azhakat,
—— U— | —— U— |
Fí yaumihá abkat ghadá,
with a different rhyme and of a different variation of metre. The amputated piece belongs to the fourth Zarb of the third ‘Aruz of Kámil, and its second couplet tallies with the second subdivision of the second class of Rajaz.
The Rajaz, an iambic metre pure and simple, is the most popular, because the easiest, in which even the Prophet was caught napping sometimes, at the dangerous risk of following the perilous leadership of Imru ‘l-Kays. It is the metre of improvisation, of ditties, and of numerous didactic poems. In the latter case, when the composition is called Urjúzah, the two lines of every Bayt rhyme, and each Bayt has a rhyme of its own. This is the form in which, for instance, Ibn Málik’s Alfíyah is written, as well as the remarkable grammatical work of the modern native scholar, Nasíf al-Yazijí, of which a notice will be found in Chenery’s Introduction to his Translation of Al–Hariri.
While the Hazaj and Rajaz connect the third circle with the first and second, the Ramal forms the link between the third and fourth Dáirah. Its measure Fá‘ilátun (— U——) and the reversal of it, Maf’úlátu (—— — U), affect the trochaic rhythm, as opposed to the iambic of the two first-named metres. The iambic movement has a ring of gladness about it, the trochaic a wail of sadness: the former resembles a nimble pedestrian, striding apace with an elastic step and a cheerful heart; the latter is like a man toiling along on the desert path, where his foot is ever and anon sliding back in the burning sand (Raml, whence probably the name of the metre). Both combined in regular alternation, impart an agitated character to the verse, admirably fit to express the conflicting emotions of a passion stirred mind.
Examples of these more or less plaintive and pathetic metres are numerous in the Tale of Uns al-Wujúd and the Wazir’s Daughter, which, being throughout a story of love, as has been noted, vol. v. 33, abounds in verse, and, in particular, contains ten out of the thirty two instances of Ramal occurring in The Nights. We quote:
Ramal, first Zarb of the first ‘Arúz (Mac. N. ii. 361):
— U—— | U U—— | — U— |
Inna li ‘l-bulbuli sautan fí ‘l-sahar
— U—— | U U—— | — U— |
Ashghala ‘l-áshika ‘an husni ‘l-water
The Bulbul’s note, whenas dawn is nigh
Tells the lover from strains of strings to fly (vol. v. 48).
Sarí’, second Zarb of the first ‘Arúz (Mac. N. ii. 359):
U— U— | —— U— | — U— |
Wa fákhitin kad kála fí nauhihi
—— U— | —— U— | — U— |
Yá Dáiman shukran ‘alà balwatí
I heard a ringdove chanting soft and plaintively,
“I thank Thee, O Eternal for this misery” (vol. v. 47).
Khafíf, full or perfect form (sahíh), both in Zarb and ‘Arúz (Mac. N. ii. 356):
— U—— | U— U— | — U—— |
Yá li-man ashtakí ‘l-gharáma ‘llazí bi
U U—— | U— U— | — U—— |
Wa shujúní wa furkatí ‘an habíbí
O to whom now of my desire complaining sore shall I
Bewail my parting from my fere compellèd thus to fly (vol. v. 44).
Mujtass, the only ‘Arúz (majzúah sahíhah, i.e. shortened by one foot and perfect) with equal Zarb (Mac. N. ii. 367):
—— U— | U U—— |
Ruddú ‘alayya habíbí
—— U— | — U—— |
Lá hajatan lí bi-málin
To me restore my dear
I want not wealth untold (vol. v. 55).
As an instance of the Munsarih, I give the second occurring in The Nights, because it affords me an opportunity to show the student how useful a knowledge of the laws of Prosody frequently proves for ascertaining the correct reading of a text. Mac. N. i. 33 we find the line:
— U U— | — U U— | — U U— |
Arba’atun má ‘jtama’at kattu izá.
This would be Rajaz with the licence Mufta’ilun for Mustaf’ilun. But the following lines of the fragment evince, that the metre is Munsarih; hence, a clerical error must lurk somewhere in the second foot. In fact, on page 833 of the same volume, we find the piece repeated, and here the first couplet reads
— U U— | — U— U | — U U— |
Arba’atun má ‘jtama’na kattu siwà
U— U— | — U— U | — U U— |
Alà azá mujhatí wa safki damí
Four things which ne’er conjoin unless it be
To storm my vitals and to shed my blood (vol. iii. 237).
The Mutákarib, the last of the metres employed in The Nights, has gained a truly historical importance by the part which it plays in Persian literature. In the form of trimetrical double-lines, with a several rhyme for each couplet, it has become the “Nibelungen”-stanza of the Persian epos: Firdausí‘s immortal “Book of Kings” and Nizámi’s Iskander-námah are written in it, not to mention a host of Masnawis in which Sufic mysticism combats Mohammedan orthodoxy. On account of its warlike and heroical character, therefore, I choose for an example the knightly Jamrakán’s challenge to the single fight in which he conquers his scarcely less valiant adversary Kaurajan, Mac. N. iii. 296:
U—— | U— U | U—— | U—— |
Aná ‘l-Jamrakánu kawiyyn ‘l-janáni
U—— | U— U | U—— | U—— |
Jamí‘u ‘l-fawárisi takhshà kitálí.
Here the third syllable of the second foot in each line is shortened by licence, and the final Kasrah of the first line, standing in pause, is long, the metre being the full form of the Mutakárib as exhibited p. 246, iii. E. 1. If we suppress the Kasrah of al-Janáni, which is also allowable in pause, and make the second line to rhyme with the first, saying, for instance:
U—— | U— U | U—— | U—
Aná ‘l-Jamrakánu kawiyyu ‘l-janán
U—— | U—— | U—— | U—
La-yakshà kitálí shijá‘u ‘l-zamán,
we obtain the powerful and melodious metre in which the Sháhnámah sings of Rustam’s lofty deeds, of the tender love of Rúdabah and the tragic downfall of Siyawush.
Shall I confess that in writing the foregoing pages it has been my ambition to become a conqueror, in a modest way, myself: to conquer, I mean, the prejudice frequently entertained, and shared even by my accomplished countryman, Rückert, that Arabic Prosody is a clumsy and repulsive doctrine. I have tried to show that it springs naturally from the character of the language, and, intimately connected, as it is, with the grammatical system of the Arabs, it appears to me quite worthy of the acumen of a people, to whom, amongst other things, we owe the invention of Algebra, the stepping-stone of our whole modern system of Mathematics I cannot refrain, therefore, from concluding with a little anecdote anent al-Khalíl, which Ibn Khallikán tells in the following words. His son went one day into the room where his father was, and on finding him scanning a piece of poetry by the rules of Prosody he ran out and told the people that his father had lost his wits. They went in immediately and related to al-Khalíl what they had heard, on which he addressed his son in these terms:
“Had you known what I was saying, you would have excused me, and had you known what you said, I should have blamed you But you did not understand me, so you blamed me, and I knew that you were ignorant, so I pardoned you.”
1 See Gladwin loc. cit. p. 8: it also is = alliteration (Ibn Khall. ii., 316).
2 He called himself “Nabiyun ummí” = illiterate prophet; but only his most ignorant followers believe that he was unable to read and write. His last words, accepted by all traditionists, were “Aatíní dawáta wa kalam” (bring me ink-case and pen); upon which the Shi’ah or Persian sectaries base, not without probability, a theory that Mohammed intended to write down the name of Ali as his Caliph or successor when Omar, suspecting the intention, exclaimed, “The Prophet is delirious; have we not the Koran?” thus impiously preventing the precaution. However that may be, the legend proves that Mohammed could read and write even when not “under inspiration.” The vulgar idea would arise from a pious intent to add miracle to the miraculous style of the Koran.
3 I cannot but vehemently suspect that this legend was taken from much older traditions. We have Jubal the semi-mythical who, “by the different falls of his hammer on the anvil, discovered by the ear the first rude music that pleased the antediluvian fathers.” Then came Pythagoras, of whom Macrobius (lib. ii ) relates how this Græco-Egyptian philosopher, passing by a smithy, observed that the sounds were grave or acute according to the weights of the hammers; and he ascertained by experiment that such was the case when different weights were hung by strings of the same size. The next discovery was that two strings of the same substance and tension, the one being double the length of the other, gave the diapason-interval, or an eighth; and the same was effected from two strings of similar length and size, the one having four times the tension of the other. Belonging to the same cycle of invention-anecdotes are Galileo’s discovery of the pendulum by the lustre of the Pisan Duomo; and the kettle-lid, the falling apple and the copper hook which inspired Watt, Newton and Galvani.
4 To what an absurd point this has been carried we may learn from Ibn Khallikán (i. 114). A poet addressing a single individual does not say “My friend!” or “My friends!” but “My two friends!” (in the dual) because a Badawi required a pair of companions, one to tend the sheep and the other to pasture the camels.
5 For further details concerning the Sabab, Watad and Fasilah, see at the end of this Essay the learned remarks of Dr. Steingass.
6 e.g., the Mu’allakats of “Amriolkais,” Tarafah and Zuhayr compared by Mr. Lyall (Introduction to Translations) with the metre of Abt Vogler, e.g.,
Ye know why the forms are fair, ye hear how the tale is told
7 e.g., the Poem of Hareth which often echoes the hexameter
8 Gladwin, p. 80.
9 Gladwin (p. 77) gives only eight, omitting F ‘ l which he or his author probably considers the Muzáhaf, imperfect or apocopêd form of F ‘ l n, as M f ‘ l of M f ‘ l n. For the infinite complications of Arabic prosody the Khafíf (soft breathing) and Sahíh (hard breathing); the Sadr and Arúz (first and last feet), the Ibtidá and Zarb (last foot of every line); the Hashw (cushion-stuffing) or body part of verse, the ‘Amúd al-Kasídah or Al–Musammat (the strong) and other details I must refer readers to such specialists as Freytag and Sam. Clarke (Prosodia Arabica), and to Dr. Steingass’s notes infra.
10 The Hebrew grammarians of the Middle Ages wisely copied their Arab cousins by turning Fa’la into Pael and so forth.
11 Mr. Lyall, whose “Ancient Arabic Poetry” (Williams and Norgate, 1885) I reviewed in The Academy of Oct. 3, ‘85, did the absolute reverse of what is required: he preserved the metre and sacrificed the rhyme even when it naturally suggested itself. For instance in the last four lines of No. xii. what would be easier than to write,
Ah sweet and soft wi’ thee her ways: bethink thee well! The day shall be
When some one favoured as thyself shall find her fair and fain and free;
And if she swear that parting ne’er shall break her word of constancy,
When did rose-tinted finger-tip with pacts and pledges e’er agree?
12 See p. 439 Grammatik des Arabischen Vulgär Dialekts von Ægyptian, by Dr. Wilhelm Spitta Bey, Leipzig, 1880. In pp. 489–493 he gives specimens of eleven Mawáwíl varying in length from four to fifteen lines. The assonance mostly attempts monorhyme: in two tetrastichs it is aa + ba, and it does not disdain alternates, ab + ab + ab.
13 Al–Siyuti, p. 235, from Ibn Khallikan. Our knowledge of oldest Arab verse is drawn chiefly from the Katáb al-Aghání (Song-book) of Abu al-Faraj the Isfaháni who flourished A.H. 284–356 (= 897 — 967): it was printed at the Bulak Press in 1868.
14 See Lyall loc. cit. p. 97.
15 His Diwán has been published with a French translation, par R. Boucher, Paris, Labitte, 1870.
16 I find also minor quotations from the Imám Abu al-Hasan al-Askari (of Sarra man raa) ob. A.D. 868; Ibn Makúla (murdered in A.D. 862?), Ibn Durayd (ob. A.D. 933) Al–Zahr the Poet (ob. A.D. 963); Abu Bakr al-Zubaydi (ob. A.D. 989), Kábús ibn Wushmaghir (murdered in A.D. 1012–13); Ibn Nabatah the Poet (ob. A.D. 1015), Ibn al-Sa’ati (ob. A.D. 1028); Ibn Zaydun al-Andalusi who died at Hums (Emessa, the Arab name for Seville) in A.D. 1071; Al–Mu’tasim ibn Sumadih (ob. A.D. 1091), Al–Murtaza ibn al-Shahrozuri the Sufi (ob. A.D. 1117); Ibn Sara al-Shantaráni (of Santarem) who sang of Hind and died A.D. 1123; Ibn al-Kházin (ob. A.D. 1124), Ibn Kalakis (ob. A D. 1172) Ibn al-Ta’wizi (ob. A.D. 1188); Ibn Zabádah (ob. A.D. 1198), Bahá al-Dín Zuhayr (ob A.D. 1249); Muwaffak al-Din Muzaffar (ob. A.D. 1266) and sundry others. Notices of Al–Utayyah (vol. i. 11), of Ibn al-Sumám (vol. i. 87) and of Ibn Sáhib al-Ishbíli, of Seville (vol. i. 100), are deficient. The most notable point in Arabic verse is its savage satire, the language of excited “destructiveness” which characterises the Badawi: he is “keen for satire as a thirsty man for water:” and half his poetry seems to consist of foul innuendo, of lampoons, and of gross personal abuse.
17 If the letter preceding Wáw or Yá is moved by Fathah, they produce the diphthongs au (aw), pronounced like ou in “bout’” and se, pronounced as i in “bite.”
18 For the explanation of this name and those of the following terms, see Terminal Essay, p. 225.
19 This Fásilah is more accurately called sughrá, the smaller one, there is another Fásilah kubrà, the greater, consisting of four moved letters followed by a quiescent, or of a Sabab sakíl followed by a Watad majmú’. But it occurs only as a variation of a normal foot, not as an integral element in its composition, and consequently no mention of it was needed in the text.
20 It is important to keep in mind that the seemingly identical feet 10 and 6, 7 and 3, are distinguished by the relative positions of the constituting elements in either pair. For as it will be seen that Sabab and Watad are subject to different kinds of alterations it is evident that the effect of such alterations upon a foot will vary, if Sabab and Watad occupy different places with regard to each other.
21 i.e. vertical to the circumference.
22 This would be a Fásilah kubrá spoken of in the note p. 239.
23 In pause that is at the end of a line, a short vowel counts either as long or is dropped according to the exigencies of the metre. In the Hashw the u or i of the pronominal affix for the third person sing., masc., and the final u of the enlarged pronominal plural forms, humu and kumu, may be either short or long, according to the same exigencies. The end-vowel of the pronoun of the first person aná, I, is generally read short, although it is written with Alif.
24 On p. 236 the word akámú, as read by itself, was identified with the foot Fa’úlun. Here it must be read together with the following syllable as “akámulwaj,” which is Mafá’ílun.
25 Prof. Palmer, p. 328 of his Grammar, identifies this form of the Wáfir, when every Mufá’ alatum of the Hashw has become Mafá’ílun, with the second form of the Rajaz It should be Hazaj. Professor Palmer was misled, it seems, by an evident misprint in one of his authorities, the Muhít al-Dáirah by Dr. Van Dayk, p. 52.
Here end, to my sorrow, the labours of a quarter-century, and here I must perforce say with the “poets’ Poet,”
“Behold! I see the haven nigh at hand,
To which I mean my wearie course to bend;
Vere the main shete, and bear up with the land
The which afore is fairly to be ken’d.”
Nothing of importance now indeed remains for me but briefly to estimate the character of my work and to take cordial leave of my readers, thanking them for the interest they have accorded to these volumes and for enabling me thus successfully to complete the decade.
Without pudor malus or over-diffidence I would claim to have fulfilled the promise contained in my Foreword. The anthropological notes and notelets, which not only illustrate and read between the lines of the text, but assist the student of Moslem life and of Arabo–Egyptian manners, customs and language in a multitude of matters shunned by books, form a repertory of Eastern knowledge in its esoteric phase, sexual as well as social.
To assert that such lore is unnecessary is to state, as every traveller knows, an “absurdum.” Few phenomena are more startling than the vision of a venerable infant, who has lived half his long life in the midst of the wildest anthropological vagaries and monstrosities, and yet who absolutely ignores all that India or Burmah enacts under his very eyes. This is crass ignorance, not the naive innocence of Saint Francis who, seeing a man and a maid in a dark corner, raised his hands to Heaven and thanked the Lord that there was still in the world so much of Christian Charity.
Against such lack of knowledge my notes are a protest; and I may claim success despite the difficulty of the task. A traveller familiar with Syria and Palestine, Herr Landberg, writes, “La plume refuserait son service, la langue serait insuffisante, si celui qui connait la vie de tous les jours des Orientaux, surtout des classes élévees, voulait la devoiler. L’Europe est bien loin d’en avoir la moindre idée.”
In this matter I have done my best, at a time too when the hapless English traveller is expected to write like a young lady for young ladies, and never to notice what underlies the most superficial stratum. And I also maintain that the free treatment of topics usually taboo’d and held to be “alekta”— unknown and unfitted for publicity — will be a national benefit to an “Empire of Opinion,” whose very basis and buttresses are a thorough knowledge by the rulers of the ruled. Men have been crowned with gold in the Capitol for lesser services rendered to the Respublica.
That the work contains errors, shortcomings and many a lapsus, I am the first and foremost to declare. Yet in justice to myself I must also notice that the maculæ are few and far between; even the most unfriendly and interested critics have failed to point out an abnormal number of slips. And before pronouncing the “Vos plaudite!” or, as Easterns more politely say, “I implore that my poor name may be raised aloft on the tongue of praise,” let me invoke the fair field and courteous favour which the Persian poet expected from his readers.
(Veil it, an fault thou find, nor jibe nor jeer:—
None may be found of faults and failings clear!)
Richard F. Burton.
Athenæum Club, September 30, ‘86.
I make no apology for the number and extent of bibliographical and other lists given in this Appendix: they may cumber the book but they are necessary to complete my design. This has been to supply throughout the ten volumes the young Arabist and student of Orientalism and Anthropology with such assistance as I can render him; and it is my conviction that if with the aid of this version he will master the original text of the “Thousand Nights and a Night,” he will find himself at home amongst educated men in Egypt and Syria, Najd and Mesopotamia, and be able to converse with them like a gentleman; not, as too often happens in Anglo- India, like a “Ghoráwálá” (groom). With this object he will learn by heart what instinct and inclination suggest of the proverbs and instances, the verses, the jeux d’esprit and especially the Koranic citations scattered about the text; and my indices will enable him to hunt up the tale or the verses which he may require for quotation wven when writing an ordinary letter to a “native” correspondent. Thus he will be spared the wasted labour of wading through volumes in order to pick up a line.
The following is the list of indices:—
Appendix I.
Appendix II.
Contributions to the Bibliography of the Thousand and One Nights, and their Imitations, with a Table shewing the contents of the principal editions and translations of The Nights. By W. F. Kirby, Author of “Ed–Dimiryaht, and Oriental Romance”; “The New Arabian Nights,” &c.
N.B. — The Roman numerals denote the volume {page numbers have been omitted}
Abdullah the Fisherman and Abdullah the Merman, ix.
Abdullah bin Fazl and his brothers, ix.
Abdullah bin Ma’amar with the Man of Bassorah and his slave-girl, v.
Abd al-Rahman the Moor’s story of the Rukh, v.
Abu Hasan al-Ziyadi and the Khorasan Man, iv.
Abu Hasan, how he brake Wind, v.
Abu Isa and Kurrat al-Aye, The Loves of, v.
Abu Ja’afar the Leper, Abu al-Hasan al-Durraj and, v.
Abu Kir the Dyer and Abu Sir the Barber, ix.
Abu al-Aswad and his squinting slave-girl, v.
Abu al Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud, v.
Abu al Hasan al-Durraj and Abu Ja’afar the Leper, v.
Abu al Hasan of Khorasan, ix.
Abu Mohammed hight Lazybones, iv.
Abu Nowas, Harun al-Rashid with the damsel and, iv.
Abu Nowas and the Three Boys, v.
Abu Sir the Barber, Abu Kir the Dyer and, ix.
Abu Suwayd and the handsome old woman, v.
Abu Yusuf with Harun al-Rashid and his Wazir Ja’afar, The Imam, iv.
Abu Yusuf with Al–Rashid and Zubaydah, The Imam, iv.
Adam, The Birds and Beasts and the Son of, iii.
Adi bin Zayd and the Princess Hind, v.
Ajib, The History of Gharib and his brother, vi.
Ala al-Din Abu al-Shamat, iv.
Alexandria (The Sharper of) and the Master of Police, iv.
Ali bin Bakkar and Shams al-Nahar, iii.
Ali of Cairo, The Adventures of Mercury, vii.
Ali Nur al-Din and Miriam the Girdle–Girl, viii.
Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper, iv.
Ali Shar and Zumurrud, iv.
Ali bin Tahir and the girl Muunis, v.
Al Malik al-Nasir (Saladin) and the Three Chiefs of Police, iv.
Almsgiving, The Woman whose hands were cut off for, iv.
Amin (Al-) and his uncle Ibrahim bin al-Mahdi, v.
Anushirwan, Kisra, and the village damsel, v.
Anushirwan, The Righteousness of King, v.
Angel of Death and the King of the Children of Israel, The, v
Angel of Death with the Proud King and the Devout Man, The, v.
Angel of Death and the Rich King, The, v.
Anis al-Jalis, Nur al-Din Ali and the damsel, ii.
Ape, The King’s daughter and the, iv.
Apples, The Three, i.
Arab Girl, Harun al-Rashid and the, vii.
Arab Youth, The Caliph Hisham and the, iv.
Ardashir and Hayat al-Nufus, vii.
Asma’i (Al-) and the three girls of Bassorah, vii.
Ass, The Ox and the, i.
Ass, The Wild, The Fox and, ix.
Ayishah, Musab bin al-Zubayr and his wife, v.
Aziz and Azizah, Tale of, ii.
Azizah, Aziz and. ii.
Badawi, Ja’afar the Barmecide and the old, v.
Badawi, Omar bin al-Khattab and the young, v.
Badawi, and his Wife, The, vii.
Badi’a al-Jamal, Sayf al-Muluk and, vii.
Badr Basim of Persia, Julnar the Sea-born, and her Son King, vii.
Badr al-Din Hasan, Nur al-Din Ali of Cairo and his son, i.
Baghdad, The Haunted House in, v.
Baghdad, Khalifah the Fisherman of, viii.
Baghdad, The Porter and the Three Ladies of, i.
Baghdad, (The ruined man of) and his slave-girl, ix.
Baghdad, The Sweep and the noble Lady of, iv.
Bakun’s Story of the Hashish–Eater, ii.
Banu Tayy, The Lovers of the, v.
Banu Ozrah, The Lovers of the, v.
Barber’s Tale of himself, The, i.
Barber’s First Brother, Story of the, i.
Barber’s Second Brother, Story of the, i
Barber’s Third Brother, Story of the, i.
Barber’s Fourth Brother, Story of the, i.
Barber’s Fifth Brother, Story of the, i.
Barber’s Sixth Brother, Story of the, i.
Barber, Abu Kir the Dyer and Abu Sir the, ix.
Barber–Surgeon, Ibrahim bin al-Mahdi and the, iv.
Barmecide. Ja’afar the, and the old Badawi, v
Bassorah (the man of ) and his slave-girl, Abdullah bin Ma’amar with, v.
Bassorah, Al–Asma’i and the three girls of, vii.
Bassorah, (Hasan of) and the King’s daughter of the Jinn, viii.
Bassorah, The Lovers of, vii.
Bath, Harun al-Rashid and Zubaydah in the, v.
Bathkeeper’s Wife, The Wazir’s Son and the, vi.
Beanselller, Ja’afar the Barmecide and the, iv.
Bear, Wardan the Butcher’s adventure with the Lady and the, iv.
Beasts and the Son of Adam, The Birds and, iii.
Behram, Prince of Persia, and the Princess Al–Datma, vi.
Belvedere, The House with the, vi.
Birds and Beasts and the Carpenter, The, iii.
Birds, The Falcon and the, iii.
Birds (the Speech of), The page who feigned to know, vi.
Black Slave, The pious, v.
Blacksmith who could handle fire without hurt, The, v.
Blind Man and the Cripple, The, ix.
Boys, Abu Nowas and the Three, v.
Boy and Girl at School, The Loves of the, v.
Boy and the Thieves, The, ix.
Boy (The woman who had to lover a) and the other who had to lover a man, v.
Brass, The City of, vi.
Broker’s Story, The Christian, i.
Budur and Jubayr bin Umayr, The Loves of, iv.
Budur, Kamar al-Zaman and, iii.
Bukhayt, Story of the Eunuch, ii.
Bulak Police, Story of the Chief of the, iv.
Bull and the Ass (Story of), i.
Bulukiya, Adventures of, v.
Butcher’s adventure with the Lady and the Bear, Wardan the, iv.
Butter, The Fakir and his pot of, ix.
Cairo (New) Police, Story of the Chief of the, iv.
Cairo (Old) Police, Story of the Chief of the, iv.
Cairo, The Adventures of Mercury Ali of, vii.
Caliph Al–Maamun and the Strange Doctor, iv.
Caliph, The mock, iv.
Cashmere Singing-girl, The Goldsmith and the, vi.
Cat and the Crow, The, iii.
Cat and the Mouse, The, ix.
Champion (The Moslem) and the Christian Lady, v.
Chaste Wife, The Rake’s Trick against the, vi.
Christian Broker’s Story, The, i.
City of Labtayt, The, vi.
Cloud (The saint to whom Allah gave a) to serve him, v.
Cobbler (Ma’aruf the) and his wife Fatimah, x.
Confectioner, his Wife and the Parrot, The, vi.
Crab, The Fishes and the, ix.
Craft and Malice of Women, The, vi.
Cripple, The Blind Man and the, ix.
Crow, The Fox and the, iii.
Crow and the Serpent, The, ix.
Crow, The Cat and the, iii.
Crows and the Hawk, The, ix.
Dalilah the Crafty and her daughter Zaynab the Coney-catcher, The
Rogueries of, vii.
Datma (The Princess Al-), Prince Behram of Persia and, vi.
Death (The Angel of) and the King of the Children of Israel, v.
Death (The Angel of) with the Proud King and the Devout Man, v.
Death (The Angel of) and the Rich King, v.
Debauchee and the Three-year-old Child, The, vi.
Desert (The old woman who dwelt in the) and the pilgrim, v.
Device (The Wife’s) to cheat her husband, vi.
Devil, Ibrahim of Mosul and the, vii.
Devil, Isaac of Mosul and his mistress and the, vii.
Devout Israelite, The, iv.
Devout Tray-maker and his wife, The, v.
Devout Prince, The, v.
Devout woman and the two wicked elders, The, v.
Dibil al-Khazai and Muslim bin al-Walid, v.
Dish of Gold, The man who stole the Dog’s, iv.
Doctor (The strange) and the Caliph Al–Maamun, iv
Dog’s Dish of Gold, The man who stole the, iv.
Dream, The ruined man who became rich through a, iv.
Drop of Honey, The, vi.
Duban, The Physician, i.
Dunya, Taj al-Muluk and the Princess, ii.
Durraj (Abu al-Hasan al-) and Abu Ja’afar the Leper, v.
Dust, The woman who made her husband sift, vi.
Dyer, Abu Sir the Barber and Abu Kir the, ix
Eagle, The Sparrow and the, iii.
Ebony Horse, The, v.
Egypt (The man of Upper) and his Frankish wife, ix.
Elders, The Devout woman and the two wicked, v.
Eldest Lady’s Story, The, i.
Enchanted Spring, The, vi.
Enchanted Youth, The, i.
Envied, The Envier and the, i.
Envier and the Envied, The, i.
Eunuch Bukhayt, Tale of the, ii.
Eunuch Kafur, Tale of the, ii.
Fakir and his jar of butter, The, ix.
Falcon and the Partridge, The, iii.
Falcon, King Sindibad and his, i.
Fatimah, Ma’aruf the Cobbler and his wife, x.
Fath bin Khakan (Al-) and Al–Mutawakkil, v.
Ferryman of the Nile and the Hermit, The, v.
First Old Man’s Story, i.
Fisherman, Abdullah the Merman and Abdullah the, ix.
Fisherman of Baghdad, Khalifah the, viii.
Fisherman, The Foolish, ix.
Fisherman and the Jinni, The, i.
Fisherman, Khusrau and Shirin and the, v.
Fishes and the Crab, The, ix.
Five Suitors, The Lady and her, vi.
Flea and the Mouse, The, iii.
Folk, The Fox and the, vi.
Forger, Yahya bin Khalid and the, iv.
Fox and the Crow, The, iii.
Fox and the Folk, The, vi.
Fox, The Wolf and the, iii.
Francolin and the Tortoises, The, ix.
Frank King’s Daughter, Ali Nur al-Din and the, viii.
Frank wife, The man of Upper Egypt and his, ix.
Fuller and his son, The, vi.
Generous friend, The poor man and his, iv.
Ghanim bin Ayyub the Thrall o’ Love, ii.
Gharib and his brother Ajib, The History of, vi.
Girl, Harun al-Rashid and the Arab, vii.
Girl at School, The Loves of the Boy and, v.
Girls of Bassorah, Al–Asma’i and the three, vii.
Girls, Harun al-Rashid and the three, v.
Girls, Harun al-Rashid, and the two, v.
Goldsmith and the Cashmere Singing Girl, The, vi.
Goldsmith’s wife, The water-carrier and the, v.
Hajjaj (Al-) Hind daughter of Al Nu’uman and, vii.
Hajjaj (Al-) and the pious man, v.
Hakim (The Caliph Al-) and the Merchant, v.
Hammad the Badawi, Tale of, ii.
Hariri (Al ) Abu Zayd’s lament for his impotency. Final Note to
vol. viii
Harun al-Rashid and the Arab girl, vii.
Harun al-Rashid and the Slave–Girl and the Imam Abu Yusuf, iv.
Harun al-Rashid with the Damsel and Abu Nowas, iv.
Harun al-Rashid and Abu Hasan the Merchant of Oman, ix.
Harun al-Rashid and the three girls, v.
Harun al-Rashid and the two girls, v.
Harun al-Rashid and the three poets, v.
Harun al-Rashid and Zubaydah in the Bath, v.
Hashish–Eater, Bakun’s tale of the, ii.
Hasan of Bassorah and the King’s daughter of the Jinn, vii.
Hasan, King Mohammed bin Sabaik and the Merchant, vii.
Hatim al-Tayyi: his generosity after death, iv.
Haunted House in Baghdad, The, v.
Hawk, The Crows and the, ix.
Hayat al-Nufus, Ardashir and, vii.
Hedgehog and the wood Pigeons, The, iii.
Hermit, The Ferryman of the Nile and the, v.
Hermits, The, iii.
Hind, Adi bin Zayd and the Princess, v.
Hind daughter of Al–Nu’uman and Al–Hajjaj, vii.
Hind (King Jali’ad of ) and his Wazir Shimas, ix.
Hisham and the Arab Youth, The Caliph, iv.
Honey, The Drop of, vi.
Horse, The Ebony, v.
House with the Belvedere, The, vi.
Hunchback’s Tale, The, i.
Husband and the Parrot, The, i.
Ibn al-Karibi, Masrur and, v.
Ibrahim al-Khawwas and the Christian King’s Daughter, v.
Ibrahim.bin al-Khasib and Jamilah, ix.
Ibrahim.of Mosul and the Devil, vii.
Ibrahim.bin al-Mahdi and Al–Amin, v.
Ibrahim.bin al-Mahdi and the Barber Surgeon, iv.
Ibrahim.bin al-Mahdi and the Merchant’s Sister, iv.
Ifrit’s mistress and the King’s Son, The, vi.
Ignorant man who set up for a Schoolmaster, The, v.
Ikrimah al-Fayyaz, Khuzaymah bin Bishr and, vii.
Imam Abu Yusuf with Al–Rashid and Zubaydah, The, iv.
Introduction. Story of King Shahryar and his brother, i.
Iram, The City of, iv.
Isaac of Mosul’s Story of Khadijah and the Caliph Maamun, iv.
Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant, v.
Isaac of Mosul and his Mistress and the Devil, vii.
Island, The King of the, v.
Iskandar Zu Al–Karnayn and a certain Tribe of poor folk, v.
Israelite, The Devout, iv.
Jackals and the Wolf, The, ix.
Ja’afar the Barmecide and the Beanseller, iv.
Ja’afar the Barmecide and the old Badawi, v.
Ja’afar bin al-Had), Mohammed al-Amin, and, v.
Jamilah, Ibrahim bin al-Khasib, and, ix.
Janshah, The Story of, v.
Jali’ad of Hind and his Wazir Shimas, King, ix.
Jeweller’s Wife, Kamar al-Zaman and the, ix.
Jewish Kazi and his pious Wife, The, v.
Jewish Doctor’s Tale, The, i.
Jinni, The Fisherman and the, i.
Jinni, The Trader and the, i.
Jubayr bin Umayr and Budur, The Loves of, iv.
Judar and his brethren, vi.
Julnar the Sea-born and her son King Badr Basim of Persia, vii.
Justice of Providence, The, v.
Kafur, Story of the Eunuch, ii.
Kalandar’s Tale, The first, i.
Kalandar’s Tale The second, i.
Kalandar’s Tale The third, i.
Kamar al-Zaman and Budur, iii.
Kamar al-Zaman and the Jeweller’s Wife, ix.
Kazi, the Jewish, and his pious wife, v.
Khadijah and the Caliph Maamun, Isaac of Mosul’s Story of, iv.
Khalif the Fisherman of Baghdad (note from Bresl. Edit.), viii.
Khalifah the Fisherman of Baghdad, viii.
Khawwas (Ibrahim al-) and the Christian King’s daughter,v.
Khorasan, Abu Hasan al-Ziyadi and the man from, iv.
Khorasan, Abu al-Hasan of, ix.
Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman, v.
Khuzaymah bin Bishr and Ikrimah al-Fayyaz, vii.
King Jali’ad, Shimas his Wazir and his son Wird Khan, ix.
King of the Island, The, v.
King and the Pilgrim Prince, The Unjust, ix.
King and the virtuous wife, The, v.
King and his Wazir’s wife, The, vi.
King’s Daughter and the Ape, The, iv.
King’s son and the Ifrit’s Mistress, The, vi.
King’s son and the Merchant’s Wife, The, vi.
King’s son and the Ghulah, The, vi.
Kings, The Two, ix.
Kisra Anushirwan and the Village Damsel,v.
Kurd Sharper, Ali the Persian and the, iv.
Kurrat al-Aye and Abu Isa, v.
Kus Police and the Sharper, Chief of the, iv
Labtayt, The City of, iv.
Lady of Baghdad, The Sweep and the noble, iv.
Lady’s Story, The Eldest, i.
Lady and her five suitors, The, vi.
Do. and her two Lovers, The, vi.
Ladies of Baghdad, The Porter and the Three, i.
Laughed again, The man who never, vi.
Lazybones, Abu Mohammed hight, iv.
Leper, Abu al-Hasan al-Durraj and Abu Ja’afar the, v.
Lover, The mad, v.
Lover who feigned himself a thief (to save his mistress’ honour), The, iv.
Lover’s trick against the chaste Wife, The, vi.
Lovers of Bassorah, The, vii.
Lovers of the Banu Tayy, The, v.
Lovers of the Banu Ozrah, The, v.
Lovers The Lady and her two, vi.
Lovers of Al–Medinah, The, vii.
Lovers The Three unfortunate, v.
Loves of the Boy and Girl at School, The, v.
Loves of Abu Isa and Kurrat al-Ayn, The, v.
Maamun, Isaac of Mosul’s Story of Khadijah and the Caliph, iv.
Maamun (Al-) and the Pyramids of Egypt, v.
Maamun and the strange Scholar, The Caliph, iv.
Ma’an bin Zaidah and the Badawi, iv.
Ma’an the son of Zaidah and the Three Girls, iv.
Mad Lover, The, vii.
Magic Horse, The, v.
Mahbubah, Al–Mutawakkil and his favourite, iv.
Malik al-Nasir (Al-) and the three Masters of Police, iv.
Malik al-Nasir and his Wazir, vii.
Man and his Wife, The, ix.
Man who never laughed during the rest of his days, The, vi.
Man (The Woman who had to lover a ) and the other who had to lover a boy, v.
Man of Upper Egypt and his Frankish Wife, ix.
Man of Al–Yaman and his six Slave-girls, iv.
Man who stole the dog’s dish of gold, iv.
Man who saw the Night of Power (Three Wishes), vi.
Man’s dispute with the learned Woman about boys and girls, v.
Ma’aruf the Cobbler and his wife Fatimah, x.
Mansur, Yahya bin Khalid and, iv.
Masrur and Ibn al-Karibi, v.
Masrur and Zayn al-Mawasif, viii.
Medinah (Al-), The Lovers of, vii.
Merchant of Oman, The, ix.
Merchant and the Robbers, The, ix.
Merchant and the two Sharpers, The, iii.
Merchant’s Sister, Ibrahim bin al-Mahdi and the, iv.
Merchant’s Wife, The King’s son and the, vi.
Merchant’s Wife and the Parrot, The, i.
Mercury Ali of Cairo, The Adventures of, vii.
Merman, and Abdullah the Fisherman, Abdullah the, ix.
Miller and his wife, The, v.
Miriam, Ali Nur alDin and, viii.
Miser and Loaves of Bread, The, vi.
Mock Caliph, The, iv.
Mohammed al-Amin and Ja’afar bin al-Had), v.
Mohammed bin Sabaik and the Merchant Hasan, King, vii.
Money changer, The Thief and the, iv.
Monkey, The Thief and his, iii.
Moslem Champion and the Christian Lady, The, v.
Mouse, The, and the Cat, ix.
Mouse and the Flea, The, iii.
Mouse and the Ichneumon, The, iii.
Munnis, Ali bin Tahir and the girl, v.
Musab bin al-Zubayr and Ayishah his wife, v.
Muslim bin al-Walid and Dibil al-Khuzai, v.
Mutawakkil (Al-) and Al–Fath bin Khakan, v.
Mutawakkil and his favourite Mahbubah, iv.
Mutalammis (Al-) and his wife Umaymah, v.
Naomi, Ni’amah bin al-Rabi’a and his Slave-girl; iv.
Nazarene Broker’s Story, The, i.
Necklace, The Stolen, vi.
Niggard and the Loaves of Bread, The, vi.
Night of Power, The man who saw the, vi.
Nile (The Ferryman of the ) and the Hermit, v.
Ni’amah bin al-Rabi’a and Naomi his Slave-girl, iv.
Nur al-Din Ali and the damsel Anis al-Jalis, ii.
Nur al-Din of Cairo and his son Badr al-Din Hasan, i.
Ogress, The King’s Son and the, vi.
Old Man’s Story, The First, i.
Old Man’s Story The Second, i.
Old Man’s Story The Third, i.
Old Woman, Abu Suwayd and the handsome, v.
Omar bin al-Nu’uman and his Sons Sharrkan and Zau al-Makan, The
Tale of King, ii.
Omar bin al-Khattab and the young Badawi, v.
Oman, The Merchant of, ix.
Otbah and Rayya, vii.
Page who feigned to know the speech of birds, The, vi.
Paradise, The Apples of, v.
Parrot, The Merchant’s wife and the, i.
Partridge, The Hawk and the, iii.
Peacock, The Sparrow and the, iii.
Persian and the Kurd Sharper, Ali the, iv.
Physician Duban, The, i.
Physician’s Story, The Jewish, i.
Pilgrim and the old woman who dwelt in the desert, The, v.
Pilgrim Prince, The Unjust King and the, ix.
Pious black slave, The, v.
Pigeons, The Hedgehog and the, iii.
Pigeons, The Two, vi.
Platter-maker and his wife, The devout, v.
Poets, Harun al-Rashid and the three, v.
Police of Bulak, Story of the Chief of the, iv.
Police of Kus and the Sharper, the Chief of the, iv.
Police of New Cairo, Story of the Chief of the, iv.
Police of Old Cairo, Story of the Chief of the, iv.
Police (The Three Masters of ), Al–Malik, al-Nasir and, iv.
Poor man and his &friend in need, The, iv.
Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad, The, i.
Portress, The Tale of the, i.
Prince Behram and the Princess al-Datma, vi.
Prince the Ensorcelled, i.
Prince and the Ghulah, The, i.
Prince, The Devout, v.
Prince (the Pilgrim), The Unjust King and, ix.
Prior who became a Moslem, The, v.
Providence, The justice of, v.
Purse, The Stolen, vi.
Pyramids of Egypt, Al–Maamun and the, v.
Queen of the Serpents, The, v.
Rake’s trick against the chaste Wife, The, vi.
Rayya, Otbah and, vii.
Reeve’s Tale, The, i.
Rogueries of Dalilah the Crafty and her daughter Zaynab the Coney
catcher, The, vii.
Rose-in-Hood, Uns al-Wujud and the Wazir’s Daughter, v.
Ruined Man of Baghdad and his Slave-girl, The, ix.
Ruined Man who became rich again through a dream, The, iv.
Rukh, Abd al-Rahman the Moor’s Story of the, v.
Sa’id bin Salim and the Barmecides, v.
Saint to whom Allah gave a cloud to serve him, The, v.
Saker and the Birds, The, iii.
Sandalwood Merchant and the Sharpers, The, vi.
Sayf al-Muluk and Badi’a al-Jamal, vii.
School, The Loves of the Boy and the Girl at, v.
Schoolmaster who fell in love by report, The, v.
Schoolmaster The Foolish, v.
Schoolmaster The ignorant man who set up for a, v.
Serpent, The Crow and the, ix.
Serpent-charmer and his Wife, ix.
Serpents, The Queen of the, v.
Sexes, Relative excellence of the, v.
Shahryar and his brother, King (Introduction), i.
Shahryar (King) and his brother, i.
Shams al-Nahar, Ali bin Bakkar and, iii.
Sharper of Alexandria and the Chief of Police, The, iv.
Sharper, Ali the Persian and the Kurd, iv.
Sharper, The Chief of the Kus Police and the, iv.
Sharper, The Simpleton and the, v.
Sharpers, The Merchant and the Two, iii.
Do. The Sandalwood Merchant and the, vi.
Sharrkan and Zau al-Makan, The History of King Omar bin
Al–Nu’uman and his Sons, ii.
Shaykh’s Story (The First), i.
Shaykh’s Story (The Second), i.
Shaykh’s Story (The Third), i.
Shepherd and the Thief, The, ix.
Shimas, King Jali’ad of Hind and his Wazir, ix.
Shipwrecked Woman and her child, The, v.
Shirin and the Fisherman, Khusrau and, v.
Simpleton and the Sharper, The, v.
Sindibad and his Falcon, King, i.
Sindbad the Seaman and Sindbad the Porter, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman First Voyage of, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman Second Voyage of, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman Third Voyage of, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman Fourth Voyage of, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman, Fifth Voyage of, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman Sixth Voyage of, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman Seventh Voyage of, vi.
Sindbad the Seaman (note from Cal. Edit.) vi.
Singing girl, The Goldsmith and the Cashmere, vi.
Six Slave-girls, The Man of Al–Yaman and his, iv.
Slave, The pious black, v.
Slave-girl, The ruined man of Baghdad and his, ix.
Slave-girls, The Man of Al–Yaman and his six, iv.
Sparrow and the Eagle, The, iii.
Sparrow and the Peacock, The, iii.
Spider and the Wind, The, ix.
Spring, The Enchanted, vi.
Squinting slave-girl, Abu al-Aswad and his, v.
Sparrow Necklace, The, vi.
Sparrow Purse, The, vi.
Suitors, The Lady and her five, vi.
Sweep and Noble Lady of Baghdad, The, iv.
Tailor’s Tale, The, i.
Taj al-Muluk and the Princess Dunya, The Tale of, ii.
Tawaddud, Abu al-Hasan and his slave-girl, v.
Thief, The Lover who feigned himself a, iv.
Thief and the Shroff, The, iv.
Thief and his Monkey, The, iii.
Thief The Shepherd and the, ix.
Thief turned Merchant and the other Thief, The, v.
Thieves, The Boy and the, ix.
Thieves, The Merchant and the, ix.
Thieves, The Two, v.
Three-year old-child, The Debauchee and the, vi.
Three Apples, The, i.
Three unfortunate Lovers, v.
Three Wishes, or the Man who longed to see the Night of Power,
The, vi.
Tortoise, The Waterfowl and the, iii.
Tortoises, The Heathcock and the, ix.
Trader (The) and the Jinni, i.
Trick (The Lover’s ) against the chaste wife, vi.
Trick (The Wife’s ) against her husband, vi.
Two Kings, The, ix.
Two Pigeons, The, vi.
Umaymah, Al–Mutalammis and his wife, v.
Unfortunate Lovers, The Three, v.
Unjust King and the Pilgrim Prince, The, ix.
Uns al-Wujud and the Wazir’s Daughter Rose-in-Hood, v.
Upper Egypt (The man of) and his Frank wife, ix.
Walid bin Sahl, Yunus the Scribe and the Caliph, vii.
Wardan, the Butcher, Adventure with the Lady and the Bear, iv.
Water-carrier and the Goldsmith’s Wife, The, v.
Waterfowl and the Tortoise, The, iii.
Wazir and the Sage Duban, The, i.
Wazir, Al–Malik al-Nasir and his, vii.
Wazir of al-Yaman and his young brother, The, v.
Wazir’s Son and the Hammam–Keeper’s Wife, The, vi.
Wazir’s Wife, The King and his, vi.
Weasel, The Mouse and the, iii.
Weaver, The Foolish, iii.
Wife, The Badawi and his, vii.
Wife, (the Chaste) The Lover’s Trick against, vi.
Wife, The King and his Wazir’s, vi.
Wife, The Man and his Wilful, ix.
Wife, (The Merchant’s) and the Parrot, i.
Wife, (The Virtuous) and the King, v.
Wife’s device to cheat her husband, The, vi.
Wife’s trick against her husband, The, v.
Wild Ass, The Jackal and the, ix.
Wilful Wife, The Man and his, ix.
Wind, The Spider and the, ix.
Wird Khan (King) and his Women and Wazirs, ix.
Wolf and the Fox, The, iii.
Wolf, The Foxes and the, ix.
Woman (The shipwrecked) and her child, v.
Woman’s trick against her husband, v.
Woman who made her husband sift dust, The, iv.
Woman whose hands were cut off for Almsgiving, The, iv.
Women, The Malice of, vi.
Women, The Two, v.
Yahya bin Khalid and the Forger, iv.
Yahya bin Khalid and Mansur, iv.
Yahya bin Khalid and the Poor Man, v.
Yaman (The Man of Al-) and his six slave-girls, iv.
Yaman (The Wazir of Al-) and his young brother, v.
Yunus the Scribe and the Caliph Walid bin Sahl, vii.
Zau al-Makan, The History of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman and his
Sons Sharrkan and, ii.
Zayn al-Mawasif, Masrur and, viii.
Zaynab the Coney-catcher, The Rogueries of Dalilah the Wily, and
her Daughter, vii..
Zubaydah in the Bath, Harun al-Rashid and, v.
Zumurrud, Ali Shar and, iv.
[Index II is not included]
A beloved familiar o’erreigns my heart viii. 70.
A boy of twice ten is fit for a king! iii. 303.
A breeze of love on my soul did blow viii. 222.
A damsel ’twas the firer’s art had decked with snares and sleight, i. 219, x. 59.
A dancer whose figure is like a willow branch, ix. 222.
A dancer whose form is like branch of Bán! ix. 221.
A dog, dog-fathered, by dog-grandsire bred, viii. 15.
A fan whose breath is fraught with fragrant scent, viii. 273.
A fair one, to idolaters if she her face should show, ix. 197.
A friend in need is he who, ever true iii. 149.
A guest hath stolen on my head and honour may he lack, viii. 295.
A hag to whom th’ unlawful lawfullest, i. 174.
A heart bore thee off in chase of the fair ix. 282.
A heart, by Allah! — never soft to lover wight, vii. 222.
A Houri, by whose charms my heart is moved to sore distress, vii. 105.
A house where flowers from stones of granite grow, iii. 19.
A Jinniyah this, with her Jinn, to show, v. 149.
A King who when hosts of the foe invade, ii.l.
A lutanist to us inclined, viii. 283.
A maiden ’twas, the dresser’s art had decked with cunning sleight, viii. 32.
A merchant I spied whose lovers, viii. 264.
A messenger from thee came bringing union-hope, iii. 188.
A moon she rises, willow-wand she waves iii. 237, viii. 303.
A moon, when he bends him those eyes lay bare, viii. 284.
A moon which blights you if you dare behold, ii. 4.
A night whose stars refused to run their course, iii. 299
A palace whereon be blessings and praise, iv. 134.
A place secure from every thought of fear i. 114.
A sage, I feel a fool before thy charms iii. 272.,
A slave of slaves there standeth at thy door, i. 89.
A sun on wand in knoll of sand she showed, i. 217; x. 58.
A thin-waist maid who shames the willow-wand, ii. 285.
A term decreed my lot I ‘spy, viii. 83.
A trifle this an his eyes be sore, v. 127.
A tree whilere was I the Bulbul’s home, viii. 281.
A wand uprising from a sandy knoll, ix.
A warrior showing such open hand, iv. 97.
A wasted body, heart empierced to core, ii. 314.
A youth slim waisted from whose locks and brow, i. 68.
A zephyr bloweth from the lover’s site, viii. 90.
Above the rose of cheek is thorn of lance, iii. 331.
Act on sure grounds, nor hurry fast, iv. 189.
Add other wit to thy wit, counsel craving, iv. 189.
Affright me funerals at every time, v. 111.
After thy faring never chanced I ‘spy, viii. 142.
Ah, fare thee not; for I’ve no force thy faring to endure, viii. 63.
Ah! for lowe of love and longing suffer ye as suffer we? viii. 68.
Ah Khalid! this one is a slave of love distraught, iv. 158.
Ah, often have I sought the fair! how often fief and fain, vii. 138.
Alack and alas! Patience taketh flight, viii. 263.
Alas, alack and wellaway for blamer’s calumny! viii. 285.
Albe by me I had through day and night, iii. 267.
Albe to lover adverse be his love, iii. 266.
Albeit my vitals quiver ‘neath this ban, iii. 62.
Alexandria’s a frontier, viii. 289.
All crafts are like necklaces strung on a string, i. 308.
All drinks wherein is blood the Law unclean Doth hold, i. 89.
All sons of woman albe long preserved, iv. 63.
“Allah assain those eyne! What streams of blood they shed!” ii. 100.
Allah be good to him that gives glad tidings of thy steps, i. 239.
Allah holds Kingship! Whoso seeks without Him victory, iii. 86.
Allah, my patience fails: I have no word, iii.344.
Allah save the rose which yellows amorn, viii. 276.
Allah, where’er thou be, His aid impart, ii. 148.
Allah’s peace on thee, House of Vacancy! viii. 237.
Although the Merciful be doubtless with me, ix. 278.
Al–Yaman’s leven-gleam I see, ii. 179.
An but the house could know who cometh ‘twould rejoice, i. 176.
An, by thy life, pass thee my funeral train, v. 70.
An fail I of my thanks to thee, i. 56.
An Fate afflict thee, with grief manifest, viii. 146.
An Fate some person ‘stablish o’er thy head, iii. 89.
An faulty of one fault the beauty prove, ii.96.
An I be healed of disease in frame, viii. 70.
An I quit Cairo and her pleasaunces, i. 290.
An we behold a lover love-foredone, v. 73.
An my palm be full of wealth and my wealth I ne’er bestow, ii. 11.
An say I:— Patient I can bear his faring, iii. 187.
An tears of blood for me, friend, thou hast shed, i. 89.
An there be one who shares with me her love, i. 180.
An thou but deign consent, A wish to heart affied, iv. 247.
An thou of pious works a store neglect, ii. 202.
An thou wouldst know my name, whose day is done, vi. 94.
An through the whole of life, iv. 190.
An Time my lover restore me I’ll blame him fain, ix. 192.
An were it asked me when by hell-fire burnt, iii. 279.
An what thou claimest were the real truth, v. 151.
An wouldst be life-long safe, vaunt not delight, viii. 94.
And Almond apricot suggesting swain, viii. 268.
And dweller in the tomb whose food is at his head, v. 238.
And eater lacking mouth and even maw, v. 240.
And fairest Fawn, we said to him Portray, viii. 272.
And haply whenas strait descends on lot of generous youth, iii. 131.
And in brunettes is mystery, couldst thou but read it right, iv. 258.
And in my liver higher flames the fire, vii. 366.
And loveling weareth on his cheek a mole, v. 65.
And pity one who erst in honour throve, ii. 149.
And shaddock mid the garden paths, on bough, viii. 272.
And Solomon, when Allah to him said, vi. 86.
And the lips girls, that are perfume sweet, v. 79.
And the old man crept o’er the worldly ways, iv. 41.
And trees of orange fruiting ferry fair, viii. 271.
And wand-like Houri who can passion heal, v. 149.
And ‘ware her scorpions when pressing them, viii. 209.
And when birdies o’er-warble its lakelet it gars, ix. 6.
And, when she announceth the will to sing, viii. 166.
Albeit this thy case lack all resource, v. 69.
Allah watered a land, and upsprang a tree, v. 244.
Answer, by Allah! Sepulchre, are all his beauties gone? i. 239.
Appeared not my excuse till hair had clothed his cheek, iii. 57.
Apple which joins hues twain and brings to mind, viii. 268.
Apple whose hue combines in union mellow, i. 158.
As a crescent-moon in the garth her form, viii. 207.
As for me, of him I feel naught affright,vi. 98.
As long as palms shall shift the flower, v. 136.
As love waxt longer less met we sway, v. 78.
As one of you who mounted mule, viii. 297.
As she willed she was made, and in such a way that when, iv. 191.
As the Sage watched the stars, the semblance clear, i. 206.
As though ptisane of wine on her lips honey dew, iii. 57.
Ask (if needs thou ask) the compassionate, ix. 29.
Ask of my writ, what wrote my pen in dole, iii. 274.
Ass and Umm Amr’ went their way, v. 118.
Bare hills and camp-ground desolate, v. 130.
Baulks me my Fate as tho’ she were my foe, viii. 130.
Be as thou wilt, for Allah is bountiful, viii. 277.
Be as thou wilt, for Allah still is bounteous Lord, ii. 202.
Be mild to brother mingling, iv. 110.
Be mild what time thou’rt ta’en with anger and despite, iv. 221.
Be mild when rage shall come to afflict thy soul, iv. 54.
Be praises mine to all-praiseworthy Thee, ii. 261.
Be proud; I’ll crouch! Bully; I’ll bear! Despise; I’ll pray! iii. 188.
Be sure all are villains and so bide safe iii. 142.
Bear our salams, O Dove, from this our stead, viii. 236.
Beareth for love a burden sore this soul of me, viii. 66.
Beauty they brought with him to make compare, i. 144.
Beguiled as Fortune who her guile displays, iv. 22.
Behind the veil a damsel sits with gracious beauty dight, viii. 210.
Behold a house that’s like the Dwelling of Delight, viii. 183.
Behold this lovely garden! ’tis as though ii. 240.
Belike my Fortune may her bridle turn,i. 52.
Belike Who Yúsuf to his kin restored, iv. 103.
Beloved, why this strangeness, why this hate? iv. 234.
Bethink thee not of worldly state, iii. 328
Bid thou thy phantom distance keep, vii 108.
Better ye ‘bide and I take my leave, i. 154.
Beware her glance I rede thee ’tis like wizard wight, ii. 295.
Beware of losing hearts of men by thine injurious deed, x. 50.
Beware that eye glance which hath magic might, iii. 252.
Black girls in acts are white, and ’tis as though, iv. 251.
Black girls not white are they, iv. 251.
Blame not! said I to all who blamed me viii. 95.
Blest be his beauty; blest the Lord’s decree, i. 177.
Blighted by her yet am I not to blame, viii. 255.
Blows from my lover’s land a zephyr coolly sweet, ii. 311.
Boon fortune sought him in humblest way, viii. 301.
Boy-like of back side, in the deed of kind, v. 157.
Breeze of East who bringest me gentle air, vii. 122.
Brighter than moon at full with kohl’d eyes she came, viii. 279.
Bring gold and gear an a lover thou, viii. 214.
By Allah, by th’ Almighty, by his right, vii. 366.
By Allah, couldst thou but feel my pain, v. 77.
By Allah, glance of mine, thou hast oppress, vii. 140.
By Allah, heal, O my lords, the unwhole, viii. 144.
By Allah, O thou house, if my beloved amorn go by, v. 38.
By Allah, O tomb, have her beauties ceased, viii. 168.
By Allah, set thy foot upon my soul, i. 222.
By Allah, this is th’ only alchemy, x. 40.
By Allah! while the days endure ne’er shall forget her I, iv. 146.
By Allah, wine shall not disturb me, while this soul of mine, iv. 190.
By craft and sleight I snared him when he came, ii. 44.
By his cheeks’ unfading damask and his smiling teeth I swear, viii. 282.
By his eyelash! tendril curled, by his slender waist I swear, iii. 217.
By his eyelids shedding perfume and his fine slim waist I swear, i. 168.
By His life who holds my guiding rein, I swear, iv. 2.
By Love’s right! naught of farness thy slave can estrange, viii. 76.
By means of toil man shall scale the height, vi. 5.
By rights of you, this heart of mine could ne’er aby, viii. 110.
By stress of parting, O beloved one, iii. 166.
By th’ Abyssinian Pond, O day divine! i. 291.
By the Compassionate, I’m dazed about my case, for lo! vii. 337.
By the Five Shayks, O Lord, I pray deliver me, iii. 30.
By the life o’ thy face, O thou life o’ my sprite! viii. 284.
By what thine eyelids show of kohl and coquetry! ii. 296.
Came a merchant to pay us a visit, viii. 265.
Came Rayya’s phantom to grieve thy sight, vii. 91.
Came the writ whose contents a new joy revealed, viii. 222.
Came to match him in beauty and loveliness rare, viii. 298.
Came to me care when came the love of thee, vii. 366.
Came your writ to me in the dead of the night, ix. 2.
Captured me six all bright with youthful blee, iv. 260.
Carry the trust of him whom death awaits, v. 114.
Cease then to blame me, for thy blame cloth anger bring, x. 39.
Cease ye this farness; ‘bate this pride of you, iv. 136.
Chide not the mourner for bemourning woe, iii. 291.
Choice rose that gladdens heart to see her sight, viii. 275.
Clear’s the wine, the cup’s fine, i. 349.
Cleave fast to her thou lovest and let the envious rail amain, iv. 198.
Close press appear to him who views th’ inside, viii. 267.
Clove through the shades and came to me in night so dark and sore, vii. 138.
Come back and so will I! i. 63.
Come with us, friend, and enter thou, viii. 267.
Confide thy case to Him, the Lord who made mankind, i. 68.
Consider but thy Lord, His work shall bring, viii. 20.
Consider thou, O man, what these places to thee showed, vi. 112.
Console thy lover, fear no consequence, v. 74.
Consort not with the Cyclops e’en a day, iv. 194.
Containeth time a twain of days, i. 25.
Converse with men hath scanty weal except, iv. 188.
Count not that I your promises forgot, iii. 238.
Cut short this strangeness, leave unruth of you, v. 245.
Culvers of Liwa! to your nests return vii. 115.
Dark falls the night: my tears unaided rail, iii. 11.
Dark falls the night and passion comes sore pains to gar me dree, ii. 140.
Daughter of nobles, who thine aim shalt gain, v. 54.
Dawn heralds daylight: so wine passround viii. 276.
Dear friend! ah leave thy loud reproach and blame, iii. 110.
Dear friend, ask not what burneth in my breast, i. 265.
Dear friend, my tears aye flow these cheeks adown, iii. 14.
Deep in mine eyeballs ever dwells the phantom form of thee, viii. 61.
Deign grant thy favours; since ’tis time I were engraced, v. 148.
Describe me! a fair one said, viii. 265.
Did Azzah deal behest to sun o’ noon, ii. 102.
Did not in love-plight joys and sorrows meet, iii. 182.
Dip thou with spoons in saucers four and gladden heart and eye, viii. 223.
Displaying that fair face, iv. 195.
Divinely were inspired his words who brought me news of you, iv. 207.
Do you threaten me wi’ death for my loving you so well? vii. 221.
Drain not the bowl, save from dear hand like thine, i. 88.
Drain not the bowl but with lovely wight viii. 209.
Drain not the bowl save with a trusty friend, i. 88.
Drawn in thy shoulders are and spine thrust out, viii: 297.
Drink not pure wine except from hand of slender youth, ix. 198.
Drink not strong wine save at the slender dearling’s hand, v. 66.
Drink not upon thy food in haste but wait awhile, v. 222.
Drink the clear draught, drink free and fain, i. 88.
Drive off the ghost that ever shows, vii. 109.
Dumb is my tongue and scant my speech for thee, viii. 258.
Each portion of her charms we see, vii.131.
Each thing of things hath his appointed tide, v. 294.
Easy, O Fate! how long this wrong, this injury, iii. 329.
Eight glories meet, all, all conjoined in thee, iii. 271.
Enough for lovers in this world their ban and bane, iv. 205.
Enough of tears hath shed the lover wight, iii. 206.
Enrobes with honour sands of camp her foot-step wandering lone, iv. 204.
Escape with thy life if oppression betide thee, i. 209.
Even not beardless one with girl, nor heed, iii. 303.
Ever thy pomp and pride, O House! display, viii. 207.
Face that with Sol in Heaven ramping vies, iii. 167.
Fain had I hid thy handwork, but it showed, iii. 280.
Fain leaving life that fleets thou hast th’ eternal won, ii. 281.
Fair youth shall die by stumbling of the tongue, iii. 221.
Familiar with my heart are woes and with them I, vii. 340.
Far is the fane and patience faileth me, v. 41.
Fare safely, Masrúr! an her sanctuary viii. 237.
Farewell thy love, for see, the Cafilah’s on the move, iv. 254.
Farewelling thee indeed is like to bidding life farewell, viii. 62.
Fate the wolf’s soul snatched up from wordly stead, iii. 146.
Fate frights us when the thing is past and gone, iii. 318.
Fate hath commanded I become thy fere, iii. 312.
Fie on this wretched world an so it be, i. 40.
Fight for my mother (an I live) I’ll take, ii. 239.
Fire is cooler than fires in my breast, iv. 245.
Fly, fly with life whenas evils threat, vi. 62.
Fly, fly with thy life if by ill overtaken, ii. 19.
Folk have made moan of passion before me, of past years, viii. 65.
For cup friends cup succeeding cup assign, v. 66.
For eaters a table they brought and set, viii. 208.
For her sins is a pleader that brow, ii. 97.
For joys that are no more I want to weep, iii. 185.
For Layla’s favour dost thou greed? iii. 135.
For loss of lover mine and stress of love I dree, viii. 75.
For not a deed the hand can try, v. 188.
For others these hardships and labours I bear, i. 17.
For your love my patience fails, i. 74.
Forbear, O troubles of the world, i. 39.
Forgive me, thee-ward sinned I, but the wise, ii. 9.
Forgive the sin ‘neath which my limbs are trembling, iii. 249.
Fortune had mercy on the soul of me, iii. 135.
Fortune had ruth upon my plight, viii. 50.
Four things that meet not, save they here unite, i. 116.
Four things which ne’er conjoin, unless it be, iii. 237.
Freest am I of all mankind fro’ meddling wight, ii. 200.
Fro’ them inhale I scent of Attar of Ban, viii. 242.
From her hair is night, from her forehead noon, viii. 303.
From Love stupor awake, O Masrur, ’twere best, viii. 214.
From that liberal hand on his foes he rains, iv. 97.
From the plain of his face springs a minaret, viii. 296.
From wine I turn and whoso wine-cups swill, i. 208.
Full many a reverend Shaykh feels sting of flesh, v. 64.
Full many laugh at tears they see me shed, iii. 193.
Full moon if unfreckled would favour thee, iv. 19.
Full moon with sun in single mansion, i. 264.
Gainsay women; he obeyeth Allah best who saith them nay, ix. 282.
Garb of Fakir, renouncement, lowliness, v. 297.
Garth Heaven-watered wherein clusters waved, viii. 266.
Get thee provaunt in this world ere thou wend upon thy way, ii. 139.
Give back mine eyes their sleep long ravished, i. 99.
Give me brunettes, so limber, lissom, lithe of sway, iv. 258.
Give me brunettes; the Syrian spears so limber and so straight, viii. 158.
Give me the Fig sweet-flavoured, beauty clad, viii. 269.
Give thou my message twice, iii. 166.
Gladsome and gay forget thine every grief, i. 57.
Glory to Him who guides the skies, vii. 78.
Gnostic’s heart-homèd in the heavenly Garth, v. 264.
Go, gossip! re-wed thee, for Prime draweth near, v. 135.
Go, visit her thou lovest, and regard not, iii. 235, viii. 305.
God make thy glory last in joy of life, viii. 99.
Gone is my strength, told is my tale of days, iii. 55.
Goodly of gifts is she, and charm those perfect eyes, iii. 57.
Granados of finest skin, like the breasts, viii. 267.
Grant me the kiss of that left hand ten times, iv. 129.
Grape bunches likest as they sway, viii. 266.
Grapes tasting with the taste of wine, viii. 266.
Grief, cark and care in my heart reside, iv. 19.
Grow thy weal and thy welfare day by day, i. 204.
Had I known of love in what fashion he, vii. 330.
Had I wept before she did in my passion for Su’ada, vii. 275.
Had she shown her shape to idolator’s sight, viii. 279.
Hadst thou been leaf in love’s loyalty, iii. 77.
Had we known of thy coming we fain had dispread, i. 117.
Had we wist of thy coming, thy way had been strown, i. 271.
Haply and happily may Fortune bend her rein, viii. 67.
Haply shall Allah deign us twain unite, viii. 141.
Haply shall Fortune draw her rein, iii. 251.
Happy is Eloquence when thou art named, i. 47.
Hast quit the love of Moons or dost persist? iv. 240.
Hast seen a Citron-copse so weighed adown, viii. 272.
Haste to do kindness thou dost intend, iv. 181.
Haste to do kindness while thou hast the power, iii. 136.
Have the doves that moan in the lotus tree, vii. 91.
He blames me for casting on him my sight, viii. 283.
He came and cried they, Now be Allah blest! iii. 215.
He came in sable hued sacque, iv. 263.
He came to see me, hiding ‘neath the shirt of night, iv. 252.
He comes; and fawn and branch and moon delight these eyne, iv. 142.
He cometh robed and bending gracefully, ii. 287.
He heads his arrows with piles of gold, iv. 97.
He is Caliph of Beauty in Yusuf’s lieu, ii. 292.
He is gone who when to this gate thou go’st, ii. 14.
He is to thee that daily bread thou canst nor loose nor bind, i. 39.
He’ll offer sweetmeats with his edged tongue, iii. 115.
He made me drain his wine of honeyed lips, v. 72.
He missed not who dubbed thee, “World’s delight,” v. 33.
He plucks fruits of her necklace in rivalry, ii. 103.
He prayeth and he fasteth for an end he cloth espy, ii. 264.
He seized my heart and freed my tears to flow, viii. 259.
He showed in garb anemone-red, iv. 263.
He thou trustedst most is thy worst un friend, iii. 143.
He whom the randy motts entrap, iii. 216
Hearkening, obeying, with my dying mouth, ii. 321.
Heavy and swollen like an urine-bladder blown, iv. 236.
Her fair shape ravisheth if face to face she did appear, v. 192
Her fore-arms, dight with their bangles, show, v. 89.
Her golden yellow is the sheeny sun’s, iv. 257.
Her lip-dews rival honey-sweets, that sweet virginity, viii. 33.
Her smiles twin rows of pearls display, i. 86.
Here! Here! by Allah, here! Cups of the sweet, the dear! i. 89.
Here the heart reads a chapter of devotion pure, iii. 18.
Hind is an Arab filly purest bred, vii. 97.
His cheek-down writeth (O fair fall the goodly scribe!) ii. 301.
His cheekdown writeth on his cheek with ambergris on pearl, ii. 301.
His eyelids sore and bleared, viii. 297.
His face as the face of the young moon shines, i. 177.
His honeydew of lips is wine; his breath, iv. 195.
His looks have made me drunken, not his wine, iii. 166.
His lovers said, Unless he deign to give us all a drink, viii. 285.
His lovers’ souls have drawn upon his cheek, iii. 58.
His mole upon plain of cheek is like, viii. 265.
His scent was musk and his cheek was rose, i. 203.
Ho, lovers all! by Allah say me fair and sooth, ii. 309.
Ho, lovers all! by Allah say me sooth, ii. 320.
Ho say to men of wisdom, wit and lere, v. 239.
Ho thou, Abrizah, mercy! leave me not for I, ii. 127.
Ho, those heedless of Time and his sore despight! vii. 221.
Ho thou hound who art rotten with foulness in grain, iii. 108.
Ho thou lion who broughtest thyself to woe, vii. 123.
Ho thou my letter! when my friend shall see thee, iv. 57.
Ho thou o’ the tabret, my heart takes flight, viii. 166.
Ho thou the House! Grief never home in thee’ viii. 206.
Ho thou, the house, whose birds were singing gay, v. 57.
Ho thou who grovellest low before the great, ii. 235.
Ho thou, who past and bygone risks regardest with uncare! iii. 28.
Ho thou whose heart is melted down by force of Amor’s fire, v. 132.
Ho ye mine eyes let prodigal tears go free, iv. 248.
Ho ye my friends draw near, for I forthright, viii. 258.
Hola, thou mansion! woe ne’er enter thee, iv. 140.
Hold fast thy secret and to none unfold, i.87.
Hold to nobles, sons of nobles, ii. 2.
Honour and glory wait on thee each morn, iv. 60.
Hope not of our favours to make thy prey, viii. 208.
Houris and high-born Dames who feel no fear of men, v. 148.
How bitter to friends is a parting, iv. 222.
How comes it that I fulfilled my vow the while that vow brake you? iv. 241.
How dear is our day and how lucky our lot, i. 293.
How fair is ruth the strong man deigns not smother, i. 103.
How good is Almond green I view, viii. 270.
How is this? Why should the blamer abuse thee in his pride, iii. 232.
How joyously sweet are the nights that unite, v. 61.
How long, rare beauty! wilt do wrong to me, ii. 63.
How long shall I thy coyness and thy great aversion see, iv. 242.
How long shall last, how long this rigour rife of woe, i. 101.
How long this harshness, this unlove shall bide? i. 78.
How manifold nights have I passed with my wife, x. 1.
How many a blooming bough in glee girl’s hand is fain, viii. 166.
How many a joy by Allah’s will hath fled, i. 150.
How many a lover with his eyebrows speaketh, i. 122.
How many a night have I spent in woes ix. 316.
How many a night I’ve passed with the beloved of me, iv. 252.
How many boons conceals the Deity, v. 261.
How many by my labours, that evermore endure, vi. 2.
How. oft bewailing the place shall be this coming and going, viii. 242.
How oft have I fought and how many have slain! vi. 91.
How oft in the mellay I’ve cleft the array, ii. 109.
How patient bide, with love in sprite of me, iv. 136.
How shall he taste of sleep who lacks repose, viii. 49.
How shall youth cure the care his life undo’th, ii. 320.
Hunger is sated with a bone-dry scone, iv. 201.
Hurry not, Prince of Faithful Men! with best of grace thy vow, vii. 128.
I am he who is known on the day of fight, vi. 262.
I am distraught, yet verily, i. 138.
I am going, O mammy, to fill up my pot, i.311.
I am not lost to prudence, but indeed, ii. 98.
I am taken: my heart burns with living flame, viii. 225.
I am the wone where mirth shall ever smile, i. 175.
I am when friend would raise a rage that mote, iv. 109.
I and my love in union were unite, viii. 247.
I ask of you from every rising sun, i. 238.
I asked of Bounty, “Art thou free?” v. 93.
I asked the author of mine ills, ii. 60.
I bade adieu, my right hand wiped my tears away, ii. 113.
I attained by my wits, x. 44.
I bear a hurt heart, who will sell me for this, vii. 115.
I call to mind the parting day that rent our loves in twain, viii. 125.
I can’t forget him, since he rose and showed with fair design, ix. 253.
I ceased not to kiss that cheek with budding roses dight,viii. 329.
I clips his form and wax’d drunk with his scent, ii. 292.
I came to my dear friend’s door, of my hopes the goal, v. 58.
I craved of her a kiss one day, but soon as she beheld, iv. 192.
I cried, as the camels went off with them viii. 63.
I’d win good will of everyone, but whoso envies me, ix. 342.
I deemed my brethren mail of strongest steel, i. 108.
I deemed you coat-o’-mail that should withstand, i. 108.
I die my death, but He alone is great who dieth not, ii. 9.
I drank the sin till my reason fled, v. 224
I drink, but the draught of his glance, not wine, i. 100.
I drooped my glance when seen thee on the way, iii. 331.
I dyed what years have dyed, but this my staining, v. 164.
I embrace him, yet after him yearns my soul, ix. 242.
I ever ask for news of you from whatso breezes pass, viii. 53.
I feed eyes on their stead by the valley’s side, iii. 234
I fix my glance on her, whene’er she wends, viii. 158.
I fly the carper’s injury, ii. 183.
I gave her brave old wine that like her cheeks blushed red, i. 89.
I had a heart and with it lived my life, v. 131.
I have a friend with a beard, viii. 298.
I have a friend who hath a beard, iv. 194.
I have a friend, whose form is fixed within mine eyes, iv. 246.
I have a froward yard of temper ill, viii. 293.
I have a lover and when drawing him, iv. 247.
I have a sorrel steed, whose pride is fain to bear the rein, ii. 225.
I have borne for thy love what never bore iii. 183.
I have fared content in my solitude, iii. 152.
I have no words though folk would have me talk, ix. 276
I have won my wish and my need have scored, vii. 59.
I have wronged mankind, and have ranged like wind, iii. 74.
I have a yard that sleeps in base and shameful way, viii. 293.
I have sorrowed on account of our disunion, viii. 128.
I heard a ring-dove chanting plaintively v.47.
I hid what I endured of him and yet it came to light, i. 67.
I hope for union with my love which I may ne’er obtain, viii. 347.
I kissed him: darker grew those pupils which, iii. 224.
I lay in her arms all night, leaving him, v. 128.
I’ll ransom that beauty-spot with my soul, v. 65.
I long once more the love that was between us to regain, viii. 181
I longed for him I love; but, when we met, viii. 347.
I longed for my beloved, but when I saw his face, i. 240.
I look to my money and keep it with care, ii. 11.
I looked at her one look and that dazed me, ix. 197.
I looked on her with longing eyne, v. 76
I love a fawn with gentle white-black eyes; iv. 50.
I love a moon of comely shapely form, I love her madly for she is perfect fair, vii.259.
I love not black girls but because they show, iv. 251.
I love not white girls blown with fat who puff and pant, iv. 252
I love Su’ád and unto all but her my love is dead, vii. 129.
I love the nights of parting though I joy not in the same, ix. 198.
I loved him, soon as his praise I heard, vii. 280.
I’m Al–Kurajan, and my name is known, vii. 20.
I’m estranged fro’ my folk and estrangement’s long, iii. 71.
I’m Kurajan, of this age the Knight, vii. 23.
I’m the noted Knight in the field of fight, vii. 18.
I made my wrist her pillow and I lay with her in litter, vii. 243.
I marvel at its pressers, how they died, x.
I marvel hearing people questioning, ii. 293
I marvel in Iblis such pride to see, vii. 139.
I marvel seeing yon mole, ii. 292.
I mind our union days when ye were nigh, vi. 278.
I number nights; indeed I count night after night, ii. 308.
I offered this weak hand as last farewell,. iii. 173
I passed a beardless pair without compare, v. 64.
I past by a broken tomb amid a garth right sheen, ii. 325.
I plunge with my braves in the seething sea, vii. 18.
I pray in Allah’s name, O Princess mine, be light on me, iv. 241.
I pray some day that we reunion gain, iii. 124.
I roam; and roaming hope I to return, iii. 64.
I saw him strike the gong and asked of him straightway, viii. 329.
I saw thee weep before the gates and ‘plain, v. 283.
I saw two charmers treading humble earth, iii. 18.
I say to him, that while he slings his sword, ii. 230.
I see all power of sleep from eyes of me hath flown, ii. 151.
I see not happiness lies in gathering gold, ii. 166.
I see the woes of the world abound, i. 298.
I see thee and close not mine eyes for fear, ix. 221.
I see thee full of song and plaint and love’s own ecstasy, iii. 263.
I see their traces and with pain I melt, i. 230.
I see you with my heart from far countrie, vii. 93.
I sent to him a scroll that bore my plaint of love, ii. 300.
I show my heart and thoughts to Thee, and Thou, v. 266.
I sight their track and pine for longing love, viii. 103.
I soothe my heart and my love repel, v. 35.
I sought of a fair maid to kiss her lips, viii. 294.
I speak and longing love upties me and unties me, ii. 104.
I still had hoped to see thee and enjoy thy sight, i. 242.
I stood and bewailed who their loads had bound, ix. 27.
I swear by Allah’s name, fair Sir! no thief was I, i. 274.
I swear by swayings of that form so fair, iv. 143.
I swear by that fair face’s life I’ll love but thee, iv. 246.
I thought of estrangement in her embrace, ix. 198.
I’ve been shot by Fortune, and shaft of eye, iii. 175.
I’ve lost patience by despite of you, i. 280.
I’ve sent the ring from off thy finger ta’en, iii. 274.
I’ve sinned enormous sin, iv. 109.
I view their traces and with pain I pine, viii.320.
I visit them and night black lendeth aid to me, iv. 252.
I vow to Allah if at home I sight, ii. 186.
I walk for fear of interview the weakling’s walk, v. 147.
I wander ’mid these walls, my Layla’s walls, i. 238.
I wander through the palace but I sight there not a soul, iv. 291.
I was in bestest luck, but now my love goes contrary, v.75.
I was kind and ’scaped not, they were cruel and escaped, i. 58.
I waved to and fro and he leaned to and fro, v. 239.
I weep for one to whom a lonely death befel, v. 115.
I weep for longing love’s own ardency, vii. 369.
I weet not, whenas to a land I fare, ix. 328.
I went to my patron some blood to let him, i. 306.
I went to the house of the keeper-man, iii. 20.
I will bear in patience estrangement of friend, viii. 345.
I wot not, whenas to a land I fare, x. 53.
I write thee, love, the while my tears pour down, iii. 24.
I write to thee, O fondest hope, a writ, iii. 24.
I write with heart devoted to thy thought, iii. 273.
Ibn Síná in his canon cloth opine, iii. 34
If a fool oppress thee bear patiently, vi. 214
If a man from destruction can save his head, ix.314.
If a man’s breast with bane he hides be straitened, ix. 292.
If a sharp-witted wight mankind e’er tried iv. 188.
If another share in the thing I love, iv. 234.
If any sin I sinned, or did I aught, iii. 132.
If aught I’ve sinned in sinful way, viii. 119.
If generous youth be blessed with luck and wealth, ix. 291.
If he of patience fail the truth to hide, ii. 320.
If I liken thy shape to the bough when green, i. 92.
If I to aught save you, O lords of me, incline, vii. 369.
If ill betide thee through thy slave, i. 194.
If Kings would see their high emprize preserved, v. 106.
If Naomi bless me with a single glance, iv. 12.
If not master of manners or aught but discreet, i. 235.
If thereby man can save his head from death, iv. 46.
If thou crave our love, know that love’s a loan, v. 127.
If thou should please a friend who pleaseth thee, v. 150.
If Time unite us after absent while, i. 157.
If your promise of personal call prove untrue, iii. 252.
If we ‘plain of absence what shall we say? i. 100.
If we saw a lover who pains as he ought, v. 164.
Ill-omened hag! unshriven be her sins nor mercy visit her on dying bed, i. 174.
In dream I saw a bird o’erspeed (meseem’d), viii. 218.
In her cheek cornered nine calamities, viii. 86.
In his face-sky shineth the fullest moon, i. 205.
In love they bore me further than my force would go, ii. 137.
In patience, O my God, I endure my lot and fate, i. 77.
In patience, O my God, Thy doom forecast, nut 17.
In ruth and mildness surety lies, ii. 160.
In sleep came Su’ada’s shade and wakened me, iv. 267.
In sooth the Nights and Days are charactered, iii. 319
In spite of enviers’ jealousy, at end, v. 62.
In the morn I am richest of men, x. 40.
In the towering forts Allah throned him, ii. 291.
In this world there is none thou mayst count upon, i. 207
In thought I see thy form when farthest far or nearest near, ii. 42
In thy whole world there is not one, iv. 187.
In vest of saffron pale and safflower red, i. 219.
Incline not to parting, I pray, viii. 314.
Indeed afflicted sore are we and all distraught, viii. 48.
Indeed I am consoled now and sleep without a tear, iv. 242.
Indeed I deem thy favours might be bought, iii. 34.
Indeed I hourly need thy choicest aid, v. 281.
Indeed I’ll bear my love for thee with firmest soul, iv. 241.
Indeed I longed to share unweal with thee, iii. 323.
Indeed I’m heart-broken to see thee start, viii. 63.
Indeed I’m strong to bear whatever befal, iii. 46.
Indeed my heart loves all the lovely boys, ix. 253.
Indeed, ran my tears on the severance day, vii. 64.
Indeed, to watch the darkness moon he blighted me, iii. 277.
Irks me my fate and clean unknows that I, viii. 130.
“Is Abú‘s Sakr of Shaybán” they asked v. 100.
Is it not strange one house us two contain iv. 279.
Is not her love a pledge by all mankind confess? ii. 186.
It behoveth folk who rule in our time, viii. 294.
It happed one day a hawk pounced on a bird, iv. 103
It runs through every joint of them as runs, x. 39.
It seems as though of Lot’s tribe were our days, iii. 301.
It was as though the sable dye upon her palms, iii. 105.
Jamil, in Holy War go fight! to me they say: ii. 102.
Jahannam, next Lazá, and third Hatim, v. 240.
Jamrkan am I! and a man of might, vii. 23.
Joy from stroke of string cloth to me incline, viii. 227.
Joy is nigh, O Masrúr, so rejoice in true rede, viii. 221.
“Joy needs shall come,” a prattler ‘gan to prattle: in. 7.
Joy of boughs, bright branch of Myrobalan! viii. 213.
Joy so o’ercometh me, for stress of joy, v. 355.
Joyance is come, dispelling cark and care, v. 61.
Kingdom with none endures: if thou deny this truth, where be the
Kings of earlier earth? i. 129.
Kinsmen of mine were those three men who came to thee, iv. 289.
Kisras and Cæsars in a bygone day, ii. 41.
Kiss then his fingers which no fingers are, iv. 147.
Lack of good is exile to man at home, ix. 199.
Lack gold abaseth man and cloth his worth away, ix. 290.
Lady of beauty, say, who taught thee hard and harsh design, iii. 5.
Laud not long hair, except it be dispread, ii. 230.
Laud to my Lord who gave thee all of loveliness, iv. 143.
Leave this blame, I will list to no enemy’s blame! iii. 61.
Leave this thy design and depart, O man! viii. 212.
Leave thou the days to breed their ban and bate, ii. 41.
Leave thy home for abroad an wouldest rise on high, ix. 138.
Let days their folds and plies deploy, ii. 309.
Let destiny with slackened rein its course appointed fare! viii. 70.
Let Fate with slackened bridle fare her pace, iv. 173.
Let Fortune have her wanton way, i. 107.
Let thy thought be ill and none else but ill, iii. 142.
Leyla’s phantom came by night, viii. 14.
Life has no sweet for me since forth ye fared, iii. 177.
Like are the orange hills when zephyr breathes, viii. 272.
Like a tree is he who in wealth cloth wone, ii. 14.
Like fullest moon she shines on happiest night, v. 347.
Like moon she shines amid the starry sky, v.32.
Like peach in vergier growing, viii. 270.
Like the full moon she shineth in garments all of green, viii. 327.
Lion of the wold wilt thou murder me, v. 40.
Long as earth is earth, long as sky is sky, ix.317.
Long have I chid thee, but my chiding hindereth thee not, vii. 225.
Long have I wept o’er severance ban and bane, i. 249.
Long I lamented that we fell apart, ii. 187.
Long, long have I bewailed the sev’rance of our loves, iii. 275.
Long was my night for sleepless misery, iv. 263.
Longsome is absence; Care and Fear are sore, ii. 295.
Longsome is absence, restlessness increaseth, vii. 212.
Look at the I.ote-tree, note on boughs arrayed, viii. 271.
Look at the apricot whose bloom contains, viii. 268.
Look on the Pyramids and hear the twain, v. 106.
Love, at first sight, is a spurt of spray, vii. 280.
Love, at the first, is a spurt of spray, vii. 330.
Love for my fair they chide in angry way. iii. 233.
Love in my breast they lit and fared away, iii. 296.
Love in my heart they lit and went their ways, i. 232.
Love-longing urged me not except to trip in speech o’er free, ix. 322.
Love smote my frame so sore on parting day, ii. 152.
Love’s tongue within my heart speaks plain to thee, iv. 135.
Love’s votaries I ceased not to oppose, iii. 290.
Lover with his beloved loseth will and aim, v. 289.
Lover, when parted from the thing he loves, viii. 36.
Luck to the Rubber whose deft hand o’er-plies, iii. 17.
Make me not (Allah save the Caliph!) one of the betrayed vii. 129.
Make thy game by guile for thou’rt born in a time, iii. 141.
Man is known among men as his deeds attest, ix. 164.
Man wills his wish to him accorded be, iv.
Many whose ankle rings are dumb have tinkling belts, iii. 302.
Masrur joys life made fair by all delight of days, nil. 234.
May Allah never make you parting dree,
May coins thou makest joy in heart instil, ix. 69.
May God deny me boon of troth if I, viii. 34.
May that Monarch’s life span a mighty span, ii.75.
Mazed with thy love no more I can feign patience, viii. 321.
Melted pure gold in silvern bowl to drain, v. 66.
Men and dogs together are all gone by, iv. 268.
Men are a hidden malady iv. 188.
Men craving pardon will uplift their hands, iii. 304.
Men have ‘plained of pining before my time, iii. 183.
Men in their purposes are much alike, vii. 169.
Men’s turning unto bums of boys is bumptious, v. 162.
Methought she was the forenoon sun until she donned the veil, viii. 284.
Mine ear forewent mine eye in loving him, ix. 222.
Mine eyes I admire that can feed their fill, viii. 224
Mine eyes ne’er looked on aught the Almond like, viii. 270.
Mine eyes were dragomans for my tongue betied, i 121.
Mine is a Chief who reached most haught estate, i. 253.
‘Minish this blame I ever bear from you, iii. 60.
Morn saith to Night, “withdraw and let me shine,” i. 132
Most beautiful is earth in budding bloom, ii. 86.
Mu’awiyah, thou gen’rous lord, and best of men that be, vii. 125.
My best salam to what that robe enrobes of symmetry, ix. 321
My blamers instant chid that I for her become consoled, viii. 171.
My blamers say of me, He is consoled And lie! v. 158.
My body bides the sad abode of grief and malady, iv. 230.
My censors say, What means this pine for him? v. 158.
My charmer who spellest my piety, ix. 243.
My coolth of eyes, the darling child of me, v. 260.
My day of bliss is that when thou appearest, iii. 291.
My friend I prithee tell me, ‘neath the sky, v. 107.
My friend who went hath returned once more, Vi. 196.
My friends, despite this distance and this cruelty, viii. 115.
My friends, I yearn in heart distraught for him, vii. 212.
My friends! if ye are banisht from mine eyes, fin 340.
My friends, Rayya hath mounted soon as morning shone, vii. 93.
My fondness, O my moon, for thee my foeman is, iii. 256.
My heart disheartened is, my breast is strait, ii. 238.
My heart is a thrall: my tears ne’er abate, viii. 346.
My life for the scavenger! right well I love him, i. 312.
My life is gone but love longings remain, viii. 345.
My longing bred of love with mine unease for ever grows, vii. 211.
My Lord hath servants fain of piety, v. 277.
My lord, this be the Sun, the Moon thou hadst before, vii. 143.
My lord, this full moon takes in Heaven of thee new birth, vii. 143.
My love a meeting promised me and kept it faithfully, iii. 195.
My loved one’s name in cheerless solitude aye cheereth me, v. 59.
My lover came in at the close of night, iv. 124.
My lover came to me one night, iv. 252.
My mind’s withdrawn from Zaynab and Nawar, iii. 239.
My patience failed me when my lover went, viii. 259.
My patience fails me and grows anxiety, viii. 14.
My prickle is big and the little one said, iii. 302.
My Salám to the Fawn in the garments concealed, iv. 50.
My sin to thee is great, iv. 109.
My sister said, as saw she how I stood, iii. 109.
My sleeplessness would show I love to bide on wake, iii. 195.
My soul and my folk I engage for the youth, vii. 111.
My soul for loss of lover sped I sight, viii. 67.
My soul be sacrifice for one, whose going, iii. 292.
My soul thy sacrifice! I chose thee out, iii. 303.
My soul to him who smiled back my salute, iii. 168.
My tale, indeed, is tale unlief, iv. 265.
My tears thus flowing rival with my wine, iii. 169.
My tribe have slain that brother mine, Umaym, iv. 110.
My wish, mine illness, mine unease! by Allah, own, viii. 68.
My wrongs hide I, withal they show to sight, viii. 260.
My yearning for thee though long is fresh, iv. 211.
Naught came to salute me in sleep save his shade, vii. 111.
Naught garred me weep save where and when of severance spake he, viii. 63.
Nears my parting fro, my love, nigher draws the severance-day, viii. 308.
Need drives a man into devious roads, ii. 14.
Needs must I bear the term by Fate decreed, ii. 41.
Ne’er cease thy gate be Ka’abah to mankind, iv. 148.
Ne’er dawn the severance-day on any wise, viii. 49.
Ne’er incline thee to part, ii. 105.
Ne’er was a man with beard grown over. long, viii. 298.
News my wife wots is not locked in a box! i. 311.
News of my love fill all the land, I swear, iii. 287.
No breeze of Union to the lover blows, viii. 239.
No! I declare by Him to whom all bow, v. 152.
No longer beguile me, iii. 137.
“No ring-dove moans from home on branch in morning light, ii. 152.
None but the good a secret keep, And good men keep it unrevealed, i. 87.
None but the men of worth a secret keep, iii. 289.
None keepeth a secret but a faithful person, iv. 233.
None other charms but thine shall greet mine eyes, i. 156.
None wotteth best joyance but generous youth v. 67.
Not with his must I’m drunk, but verily, v. 158.
Now an, by Allah, unto man were fully known, iii. 128.
Now, an of woman ask ye, I reply, iii. 214.
Now blame him not; for blame brings only vice and pain, ii. 297.
Now, by my life, brown hue hath point of comeliness, iv. 258.
Now, by thy life, and wert thou just my life thou hadst not ta’en, i. 182.
Now, by your love! your love I’ll ne’er forget, viii, 315.
Now I indeed will hide desire and all repine, v. 267.
Now is my dread to incur reproaches which. 59.
Now love hast banished all that bred delight, iii. 259.
Now with their says and said no more vex me the chiding race, iv. 207.
O adornment of beauties to thee write I vii. 176.
O beauty’s Union! love for thee’s my creed, iii. 303.
O best of race to whom gave Hawwá boon of birth, v. 139.
O bibber of liquor, art not ashamed v. 224.
O breeze that blowest from the land Irak viii. 103.
O child of Adam let not hope make mock and flyte at thee vi. 116
O culver of the copse, with salams I greet, v. 49.
O day of joys to either lover fain! v. 63.
O dwelling of my friends, say is there no return, viii. 319.
O fair ones forth ye cast my faithful love, ix. 300.
O fertile root and noble growth of trunk, ii. 43.
O fisherman no care hast thou to fear, v. 51.
O flier from thy home when foes affright! v. 290.
O friends of me one favour more I pray v. 125.
O glad news bearer well come! ii. 326.
O hail to him whose locks his cheeks o’er shade, x. 58.
O Hayat al-Nufuis be gen’rous and incline vii. 217.
O heart, an lover false thee, shun the parting bane, viii.94.
O heart! be not thy love confined to one, iii. 232.
O hope of me! pursue me not with rigour and disdain, iii. 28.
O joy of Hell and Heaven! whose tormentry, iii. 19.
O Keener, O sweetheart, thou fallest not short, i. 311.
O Kings of beauty, grace to prisoner ta’en, viii. 96.
O Lord, by the Five Shaykhs, I pray deIiver me, vii. 226.
O Lord, how many a grief from me hast driven, v. 270.
O Lord, my foes are fain to slay me in despight, viii. 117.
O Lords of me, who fared but whom my heart e’er followeth, iv 239
O Love, thou’rt instant in thy cruellest guise, iv. 204.
O lover thou bringest to thought a tide, v. 50.
O Maryam of beauty return for these eyne, viii. 321.
O Miriam thy chiding I pray, forego, ix. 8.
O moon for ever set this earth below, iii. 323.
O Moslem! thou whose guide is Alcorán iv. 173.
O most noble of men in this time and stound, iv. 20.
O my censor who wakest amorn to see viii. 343.
O my friend, an I rendered my life, my sprite, ix. 214.
O my friend! reft of rest no repose I command, ii. 35.
O my friends, have ye seen or have ye heard vi. 174.
O my heart’s desire, grows my misery, vii. 248.
O my Lord, well I weet thy puissant hand, vi. 97.
O Night of Union, Time’s virginal prize viii. 328.
O my lords, shall he to your minds occur ix. 299.
O Night here I stay! I want no morning light, iv. 144.
O passing Fair I have none else but thee, vii. 365.
O pearl-set mouth of friend, iv. 231.
O pearly mouth of friend, who set those pretty pearls in line, iv. 231.
O Rose, thou rare of charms that dost contain, viii. 275.
O sire, be not deceived by worldly joys, v. 114.
O son of mine uncle! same sorrow I bear, iii. 61.
O spare me, thou Ghazban, indeed enow for me, ii. 126.
O Spring-camp have ruth on mine overthrowing, viii. 240.
O thou Badi’a ‘l-Jamál, show thou some clemency, vii. 368.
O thou of generous seed and true nobility, vi. 252.
O thou sheeniest Sun who in night dost shine, viii. 215.
O Thou the One, whose grace cloth all the world embrace, v. 272.
O thou tomb! O thou tomb! be his horrors set in blight? i. 76.
O thou to whom sad trembling wights in fear complain! iii. 317.
O thou who barest leg-calf better to suggest, ii. 327.
O thou who claimest to be prey of love and ecstasy, vii. 220.
O thou who deignest come at sorest sync, iii.78.
O thou who dost comprise all Beauty’s boons! vii. 107.
O thou who dyest hoariness with black, viii. 295.
O thou who fearest Fate, i. 56.
O thou who for thy wakeful nights wouldst claim my love to boon, iii. 26.
O thou who givest to royal state sweet savour, ii. 3.
O thou who gladdenest man by speech and rarest quality, ix. 322.
O thou who seekest innocence to ‘guile, iii. 137.
O thou who seekest parting, safely fare! ii. 319.
O thou who seekest separation, act leisurely, iv. 200.
O thou who seekest severance, i. 118.
O thou who shamest sun in morning sheen, viii. 35.
O thou who shunnest him thy love misled! viii. 259.
O thou who wooest Severance, easy fare! iii. 278.
O thou who woo’st a world unworthy learn, iii. 319.
O thou whose boons to me are more than one, iii. 317.
O thou whose favours have been out of compt, iii. 137.
O thou whose forehead, like the radiant East, i. 210.
O to whom I gave soul which thou torturest, iv. 19.
O to whom now of my desire complaining sore shall I, v. 44.
O toiler through the glooms of night in peril and in pain, i. 38.
O turtle dove, like me art thou distraught? v. 47.
O waftings of musk from the Babel-land! ix. 195.
O who didst win my love in other date, v. 63.
O who hast quitted these abodes and faredst fief and light, viii. 59.
O who passest this doorway, by Allah, see, viii. 236.
O who praisest Time with the fairest appraise ix. 296.
O who shamest the Moon and the sunny glow, vii. 248.
O who quest Union, ne’er hope such delight, viii. 257.
O whose heart by our beauty is captive ta’en, v. 36.
O Wish of wistful men, for Thee I yearn, v. 269.
O ye that can aid me, a wretched lover, ii. 30.
O ye who fled and left my heart in pain low li’en, iii. 285.
O ye who with my vitals fled, have rush, viii. 258.
O you whose mole on cheek enthroned recalls, i. 251.
O Zephyr of Morn, an thou pass where the dear ones dwell, viii. 120.
O Zephyr of Najd, when from Najd thou blow, vii. 115.
Of dust was I created, and man did I become, v. 237.
Of evil thing the folk suspect us twain, iii.305.
Of my sight I am jealous for thee, of me, ix. 248.
Of Time and what befel me I complain, viii. 219.
Of wit and wisdom is Maymúnah bare, i. 57.
Oft hath a tender bough made lute for maid, v. 244.
Oft hunchback added to his bunchy back, viii. 297.
Oft times mischance shall straiten noble breast, viii. 117.
Oft when thy case shows knotty and tangled skein, vi. 71.
Oh a valiant race are the sons of Nu’uman, iii. 80.
Oh soul of me, an thou accept my rede, ii. 210.
Oh ye gone from the gaze of these ridded eyne, ii. 139.
Old hag, of high degree in filthy life, v. 96.
On earth’s surface we lived in rare ease and joy, vii. 123.
On her fair bosom caskets twain I scanned, i. 156.
On me and with me bides thy volunty, viii. 129.
On Sun and Moon of palace cast thy sight, i. 85.
On the brow of the World is a writ, an thereon thou look, ix. 297
On the fifth day at even-tide they went away from me, ii. 10
On the fifth day I quitted all my friends for evermore, ii. 10
On the glancing racer outracing glance, ii. 273.
On the shaded woody island His showers Allah deign, x. 40.
On these which once were chicks, iv. 235.
One, I wish him in belt a thousand horns, v. 129.
One craved my love and I gave all he craved of me, iii. 210.
One wrote upon her cheek with musk, his name was Ja’afar hight, iv. 292.
Open the door! the leach now draweth near, v. 284.
Oppression ambusheth in sprite of man, ix. 343.
Our aim is only converse to enjoy, iv. 54.
Our Fort is Tor, and flames the fire of fight, ii. 242.
Our life to thee, O cup-boy Beauty-dight! iii. 169.
Our trysting-time is all too short, iii. 167.
Pardon my fault, for tis the wont, i. 126.
Pardon the sinful ways I did pursue, ii. 38.
Part not from one whose wont is not to part from you, iii. 295
Parting ran up to part from lover twain iii. 209.
Pass round the cup to the old and the young man, too, viii. 278.
Pass o’er my fault, for ’tis the wise man’s wont, viii. 327.
Patience hath fled, but passion fareth not v. 358.
Patience with sweet and with bitter Fate! viii. 146.
Patient I seemed, yet Patience shown by me, vii.96.
Patient, O Allah! to Thy destiny I bow iii.328.
Pause ye and see his sorry state since when ye fain withdrew, viii. 66.
Peace be to her who visits me in sleeping phantasy, viii. 241.
Peace be to you from lover’s wasted love vii. 368.
Peace be with you, sans you naught compensateth me, viii. 320.
Perfect were lover’s qualities in him was brought amorn, viii. 255.
Pink cheeks and eyes enpupil’d black have dealt me sore despight, viii. 69.
Pleaseth me more the fig than every fruit viii. 269.
Pleaseth me yon Hazár of mocking strain v.48.
Pleasure and health, good cheer, good appetite, ii. 102.
Ply me and also my mate be plied, viii. 203.
Poverty dims the sheen of man whate’er his wealth has been, i. 272
Pray’ee grant me some words from your lips, belike, iii. 274.
Pray, tell me what hath Fate to do betwixt us twain? v. 128.
Preserve thy hoary hairs from soil and stain, iv. 43.
Prove how love can degrade, v. 134.
Quince every taste conjoins, in her are found, i. 158.
Quoth I to a comrade one day, viii. 289.
Quoth our Imam Abu Nowas, who was, v. 157.
Quoth she (for I to lie with her forbare), iii. 303.
Quoth she, “I see thee dye thy hoariness,” iv. 194.
Quoth she to me — and sore enraged, viii. 293.
Quoth she to me — I see thou dy’st thy hoariness, viii. 295.
Quoth they and I had trained my taste thereto, viii. 269.
Quoth they, Black letters on his cheek are writ! iv. 196.
Quoth they, Maybe that Patience lend thee ease! iii. 178.
Quoth they, Thou rav’st on him thou lov’st, iii. 258.
Quoth they, “Thou’rt surely raving mad for her thou lov’st, viii. 326.
Racked is my heart by parting fro my friends, i. 150.
Rain showers of torrent tears, O Eyne, and see, viii. 250.
Rebel against women and so shalt thou serve Allah the more, iii. 214.
Red fruits that fill the hand, and shine with sheen, viii. 271.
Rely not on women: Trust not to their hearts, i. 13.
Reserve is a jewel, Silence safety is, i. 208.
Restore my heart as ’twas within my breast, viii. 37.
Right near at hand, Umaymah mine! v. 75.
Robe thee, O House, in richest raiment Time, viii. 206.
Roll up thy days and they shall easy roll, iv. 220.
Rosy red Wady hot with summer glow, ix.6.
Round with big and little, the bowl and cup, ii. 29.
Said I to slim-waist who the wine engraced, viii. 307.
Salam from graces treasured by my Lord, iii. 273.
Salams fro’ me to friends in every stead, iii. 256.
Say, canst not come to us one momentling, iv. 43.
Say, cloth heart of my fair incline to him, v. 127.
Say him who careless sleeps what while the shaft of Fortune flies, i. 68.
Say me, on Allah’s path has death not dealt to me, iv. 247.
Say me, will Union after parting e’er return to be, viii. 320.
Say then to skin “Be soft,” to face “Be fair,” i. 252.
Say thou to the she-gazelle, who’s no gazelle, v. 130.
Say to angry lover who turns away, v. 131
Say to the charmer in the dove-hued veil, i. 280.
Say to the fair in the wroughten veil, viii. 291
Say to the pretty one in veil of blue, iv. 264.
Say what shall solace one who hath nor home nor stable stead, ii.124.
Say, will to me and you the Ruthful union show, viii. 323.
Scented with sandal and musk, right proudly cloth she go, v. 192.
Seeing thy looks wots she what thou desir’st, v. 226.
Seest not how the hosts of the Rose display, viii. 276.
Seest not that Almond plucked by hand, viii. 270.
Seest not that musk, the nut-brown musk, e’er claims the highest price, iv. 253.
Seest not that pearls are prized for milky hue, iv. 250.
Seest not that rosery where Rose a flowering displays, viii. 275.
Seest not the bazar with its fruit in rows, iii. 302.
Seest not the Lemon when it taketh form, viii. 272.
Seest not we want for joy four things all told, i. 86.
Semblance of full-moon Heaven bore, v. 192.
Severance-grief nighmost, Union done to death, iv. 223.
Shall I be consoled when Love hath mastered the secret of me, viii. 261.
Shall man experience-lectured ever care, vii. 144.
Shall the beautiful hue of the Basil fail, i.19.
Shall the world oppress me when thou art in’s, ii. 18.
Shall we e’er be united after severance tide, viii. 322.
Shamed is the bough of Ban by pace of her, viii. 223.
She bade me farewell on our parting day, ii. 35.
She beamed on my sight with a wondrous glance, ii. 87.
She came apparelled in an azure vest, i. 218.
She came apparelled in a vest of blue, viii. 280.
She came out to gaze on the bridal at ease, v. 149.
She came thick veiled, and cried I, O display, viii. 280.
She comes apparelled in an azure vest x.58.
She comes like fullest moon on happy night, i. 218; x. 59.
She cried while played in her side Desire ix. 197.
She dispread the locks from her head one night, iii. 226.
She drew near whenas death was departing us, v. 71.
She gives her woman’s hand a force that fails the hand of me, iii. 176
She hath eyes whose babes wi’ their fingers sign, viii. 166.
She hath those hips conjoined by thread of waist, iii. 226.
She hath wrists which, did her bangles not contain, iii. 226.
She is a sun which towereth high asky iii. 163.
She joineth charms were never seen conjoined in mortal dress, vii. 104.
She lords it o’er our hearts in grass-green gown, ii. 318.
She prayeth; the Lord of grace her prayer obeyed, v. 273.
She proffered me a tender coynte, iii. 304.
She rose like the morn as she shone through the night, i. 11.
She saith sore hurt in sense the most acute, iii. 303.
She shineth forth a moon, and bends a willow-wand, iv. 50.
She shone out in the garden in garments all of green, v. 346.
She shot my heart with shaft, then turned on heel, vii. 141.
She sits it in lap like a mother fond, ix. 191.
She ‘spied the moon of Heaven reminding me, iv. 51.
She split my casque of courage with eye — swords that sorely smite, iii. 179.
She spread three tresses of unplaited hair iv.51.
She wears a pair of ringlets long let down, v. 240.
She who my all of love by love of her hath won, viii. 254.
Shoulder thy tray and go straight to thy goal, i. 278.
Showed me Sir Such-an-one a sight, and what a sight! iv. 193.
Silent I woned and never owned my love v. 151.
Silky her skin and silk that zonèd waist iii. 163.
Since my loper-friend in my hand hath given, iv. 20.
Since none will lend my love a helping hand, vii. 225.
Since our Imam came forth from medicine, v. 154.
Sleep fled me, by my side wake ever shows, viii. 68.
Slept in mine arms full moon of brightest blee, x. 39.
Slim-waist and boyish wits delight, v. 161.
Slim-waisted craved wine from her companeer, viii. 307.
Slim-waisted loveling, from his hair and brow, viii. 299.
Slim-waisted loveling, jetty hair encrowned, i. 116.
Slim-waisted one whose looks with down of cheek, v. 158.
Slim-waisted one, whose taste is sweetest sweet, v. 241.
Sojourn of stranger, in whatever land, vii. 175.
Sought me this heart’s dear love at gloom of night, vii. 253.
Source of mine evils, truly, she alone’s, iii. 165.
Sow kindness seed in the unfittest stead iii. 136.
Stand by and see the derring-do which I to-day will show, iii. 107
Stand by the ruined home and ask of us, iii. 328.
Stand thou and hear what fell to me, viii. 228.
Stand thou by the homes and hail the lords of the ruined stead, ii. 181.
Stay! grant one parting look before we part, ii. 15.
Steer ye your steps to none but me, v. 65.
Still cleaves to this homestead mine ecstasy, viii. 243.
Stint ye this blame viii. 254.
Straitened bosom; reveries dispread, iii. 182.
Strange is my story, passing prodigy, iv. 139
Strange is the charm which dights her brows like Luna’s disk that shine, ii. 3.
Strive he to cure his case, to hide the truth, ii. 320.
Such is the world, so bear a patient heart, i. 183.
Suffer mine eye-babes weep lost of love and tears express, viii. 112.
Suffice thee death such marvels can enhance, iii. 56.
Sun riseth sheen from her brilliant brow, vii. 246.
Sweetest of nights the world can show to me, ii. 318.
Sweetheart! How long must I await by so long suffering tried? ii. 178.
Sweetly discourses she on Persian string, viii. 166.
Take all things easy; for all worldly things, iv. 220.
Take thy life and fly whenas evils threat; let the ruined house
tell its owner’s fate, i. 109.
Take, O my lord to thee the Rose, viii. 275.
Take patience which breeds good if patience thou can learn, iv. 221.
Take warning, O proud, iv. 118.
Tear-drops have chafed mine eyelids and rail down in wondrous wise, v. 53.
Tell her who turneth from our love to work it injury sore, i. 181.
Tell whoso hath sorrow grief never shall last, i. 15.
That cheek-mole’s spot they evened with a grain, i. 251.
That jetty hair, that glossy brow, i. 203.
That night th’ astrologer a scheme of planets drew, i. 167.
That pair in image quits me not one single hour, ii. 173.
That rarest beauty ever bides my foe, vii. 366.
That sprouting hair upon his face took wreak, v. 161.
The birds took flight at eve and winged their way, viii. 34.
The blear-eyed scapes the pits, i. 265.
The boy like his father shall surely show, i.310.
The breeze o’ morn blows uswards from her trace, viii. 206.
The bushes of golden hued rose excite, viii. 276.
The Bulbul’s note, whenas dawn is nigh, v.48.
The caravan-chief calleth loud o’ night, viii. 239.
The chambers were like a bee-hive well stocked, ix. 292.
The coming unto thee is blest, viii. 167.
The company left with my love by night, ix. 27.
The Compassionate show no ruth to the tomb where his bones shall lie, x. 47.
The courser chargeth on battling foe, iii. 83.
The day of my delight is the day when you draw near, i. 75.
The day of parting cut my heart in twain, iii. 124.
The fawn-Glee one a meeting promised me, iv. 195.
The fawn of a maid hent her lute in hand, ii. 34.
The feet of sturdy miscreants went trampling heavy tread, x.38.
The first in rank to kiss the ground shall deign, i. 250.
The fragrance of musk from the breasts of the fair, viii. 209.
The full moon groweth perfect once a month, vii. 271.
The glasses are heavy when empty brought, x. 40.
The hapless lover’s heart is of his wooing weary grown, iv. 144.
The hearts of lovers have eyes I ken, iv. 238.
The hue of dusty motes is hers, iv. 257.
The house, sweetheart, is now no home to me, v. 381.
The jujube tree each day, viii. 271.
The Kings who fared before us showed, iii. 318.
The land of ramping moon is bare and drear, viii. 126.
The least of him is the being free, v. 156.
The life of the bath is the joy of man’s life, iii. 19.
The like of whatso feelest thou we feel, vii. 141.
The longing of a Bedouin maid, whose folks are far away, iii. 172.
The longing of an Arab lass forlorn of kith and kin, ii. 306.
The Lord, empty House! to thee peace decree, viii. 238.
The loved ones left thee in middle night, v. 150.
The lover is drunken with love of friend, v.39.
The lover’s heart for his beloved must meet, ii. 62.
The lover’s heart is like to break in twain ii. 63.
The mead is bright with what is on’t ii. 86.,
The messenger who kept our commerce hid, iii. 189.
The Moon o’ the Time shows unveiled light, ix. 287.
The Nadd is my wine scented powder, my bread, viii. 209.
The name of what crave me distraught, viii. 93.
The Nile-flood this day is the gain you own, i. 290.
The penis smooth and round was made with anus best to match it, iii. 303.
The phantom of Soada came by night to wake me, viii. 337.
The poor man fares by everything opposed, ix. 291.
The Prophet saw whatever eyes could see v. 287.
The return of the friend is the best of all boons, ix. 287.
The Rose in highest stead I rate, viii. 274
The signs that here their mighty works portray, vi. 90.
The slanderers said There is hair upon his cheeks, v. 157.
The slippers that carry these fair young feet, viii. 320.
The smack of parting ‘s myrrh to me, ii. 101.
The solace of lovers is naught but far, viii.
The spring of the down on cheeks right clearly shows, v. 190.
The stream ‘s a cheek by sunlight rosy dyed, ii. 240.
The streamlet swings by branchy wood and aye, viii. 267.
The sun of beauty she to all appears, x. 59.
The sun of beauty she to sight appears, i. 218.
The sun yellowed not in the murk gloom lien, viii. 285.
The sword, the sworder and the bloodskin waiting me I sight, ii. 42.
The tears of these eyes find easy release v.127.
The tears run down his cheeks in double row, iii. 169.
“The time of parting” quoth they “draweth nigh,” v. 280.
The tongue of love from heart bespeaks my sprite, iv. 261.
The tongue of Love within my vitals speaketh, viii. 319.
The toothstick love I not; for when I say,
The road is lonesome; grow my grief and need, m. 13.
The weaver-wight wrote with gold-ore bright, viii. 210.
The whiskers write upon his cheek with ambergris on pearl, vii. 277
The wide plain is narrowed before these eyes, viii. 28.
The wise have said that the white of hair, viii. 294.
The world hath shot me with its sorrow till, vii. 340.
The world sware that for ever ‘twould gar me grieve, viii. 243.
The world tears man to shreds, so be thou not, ix. 295.
The world tricks I admire betwixt me and her, ix. 242.
The world’s best joys long be thy lot, my lord, i. 203.
The zephyr breatheth o’er its branches, like, viii. 267.
Their image bides with me, ne’er quits me, ne’er shall fly, viii. 66.
Their tracts I see, and pine with pain and pang, i. 151.
There be no writer who from death shall fleet, i. 128.
There be rulers who have ruled with a foul tyrannic sway, i. 60.
There remaineth not aught save a fluttering breath, viii. 124.
There remains to him naught save a flitting breath, vii. 119.
They blamed me for causing my tears to well, ix. 29.
They bore him bier’d and all who followed wept, ii. 281.
They find me fault with her where I default ne’er find, v. 80.
They have cruelly ta’en me from him my beloved, v. 51.
They’re gone who when thou stoodest at their door, iv. 200.
They ruled awhile and theirs was harsh tyrannic rule, iv. 220.
They said, Thou revest upon the person thou lovest, iv. 205.
They say me, “Thou shinest a light to mankind,” i. 187.
They shine fullest moons, unveil crescent bright, viii. 304.
They talked of three beauties whose converse was quite, vii. 112.
Thine image ever companies my sprite, iii. 259.
Thine image in these eyne, a-lip thy name, iii. 179.
Think not from her, of whom thou art enamoured, viii. 216.
Thinkest thou thyself all prosperous, in days which prosp’rous be, viii. 309.
This be his recompense who will, ix. 17.
This day oppressor and oppressed meet, v. 258.
This garden and this lake in truth, viii. 207.
This house, my lady, since you left is now a home no more, i. 211.
This messenger shall give my news to thee, iii. 181.
This is a thing wherein destruction lies, i. 118.
This is she I will never forget till I die, viii. 304.
This is thy friend perplexed for pain and pine, iv. 279.
This one, whom hunger plagues, and rags enfold, vii. 129.
Tho’ ’tis thy wont to hide thy love perforce, iii. 65.
Thou art the cause that castest men in ban and bane, viii. 149.
Thou camest and green grew the hills anew, iii. 18.
Thou deemedst well of Time when days went well, ii. 12; iii. 253.
Thou hast a reed of rede to every land, i. 128.
Thou hast failed who would sink me in ruin-sea, iii. 108.
Thou hast granted more favours than ever I crave, ii. 32.
Thou hast restored my wealth, sans greed and ere, iv. 111.
Thou hast some art the hearts of men to clip, i. 241.
Thou hast won my heart by cheek and eye of thee, viii. 256.
Thou liest, O foulest of Satans, thou art, iii. 108.
Thou liest when speaking of “benefits,” while, iii. 108.
Thou madest Beauty to spoil man’s sprite, ix. 249.
Thou madest fair thy thought of Fate, viii. 130.
Thou pacest the palace a marvel-sight, i. 176.
Thou present, in the Heaven of Heavens I dwell, iii. 268.
Thou seekest my death; naught else thy will can satisfy? ii. 103.
Thou west all taken up with love of other man, not me, i. 182.
Thou west create of dust and cam’st to life, iv. 190.
Thou west invested (woe to thee!) with rule for thee unfit, vii. 127.
Though amorn I may awake with all happiness in hand, i. 75.
Though now thou jeer, O Hind, how many a night, vii. 98.
Three coats yon freshest form endue, viii. 270.
Three lovely girls hold my bridle-rein, ix. 243.
Three matters hinder her from visiting us in fear, iii. 231.
Three things for ever hinder her to visit us, viii. 279.
Throne you on highmost stead, heart, ears and sight, viii. 258.
Thy breast thou baredst sending back the gift, v. 153.
Thy case commit to a Heavenly Lord and thou shalt safety see, viii. 151.
Thy folly drives thee on though long I chid, iii. 29.
Thy note came: long lost fingers wrote that note, iv. 14.
Thy phantom bid thou fleet and fly, vii. 108.
Thy presence bringeth us a grace, i. 175.
Thy shape with willow branch I dare compare, iv. 255.
Thy shape’s temptation, eyes as Houri’s fain, viii. 47.
Thy sight hath never seen a fairer sight, ii. 292.
Thy writ, O Masrur, stirred my sprite to pine, viii. 245.
Time falsed our union and divided who were one in sway, x. 26.
Time gives me tremble, Ah, how sore the baulk! i. 144.
Time has recorded gifts she gave the great, i. 128.
Time hath for his wont to upraise and debase, ii. 143
Time hath shattered all my frame, ii. 4.
Time sware my life should fare in woeful waste, ii. 186.
’Tis as if wine and he who bears the bowl, x.38.
’Tis as the Figs with clear white skins outthrown, viii. 268.
’Tis dark: my transport and unease now gather might and main, v. 45.
’Tis I am the stranger, visited by none, v. 116.
’Tis naught but this! When a-sudden I see her, ix. 235.
’Tis not at every time and tide unstable, iv. 188.
’Tis thou hast trodden coyness-path not I, iii. 332.
To all who unknow my love for the May, viii.332.
To Allah will I make my moan of travail and of woe, iii. 106.
To Allah’s charge I leave that moon-like beauty in your tents, iv. 145.
To even her with greeny bough were vain, i. 156.
To grief leave a heart that to love ne’er ceased, viii. 215.
To him I spake of coupling but he said to me, iii. 301.
To him when the wine cup is near I declare, ix. 189.
To Karím, the cream of men thou gayest me, ii. 35.
To kith and kin bear thou sad tidings of our plight, iii. 111.
To me restore my dear, v. 55.
To our beloveds we moaned our length of night, iv. 106.
To Rose quoth I, What gars thy thorns to be put forth, viii. 276.
To severance you doom my love and all unmoved remain, i. 181.
To slay my foes is chiefest bliss I wist, ii. 239.
To th’ All-wise Subtle One trust worldly things, i. 56.
To Thee be praise, O Thou who showest unremitting grace, viii. 183.
To thee come I forth with my heart aflame, iii. 108.
To win our favours still thy hopes are bent, vii. 224.
Told us, ascribing to his Shaykhs, our Shaykh, iv. 47.
Travel! and thou shalt find new friends for old ones left behind, i. 197
Troubles familiar with my heart are grown and I with them, viii. 117.
Trust not to man when thou hast raised his spleen, iii. 145.
Truth best befits thee albeit truth, i. 298.
Turn thee from grief nor care a jot! i. 56
’Twas as I feared the coming ills discerning, ii. 189.
’Twas by will of her she was create, viii. 291.
’Twas not of love that fared my feet to them, iv. 180.
’Twas not satiety bade me leave the dearling of my soul, i. 181.
‘Twixt the close-tied and open-wide no medium Fortune knoweth, ii. 105.
‘Twixt me and riding many a noble dame v. 266.
Two contraries and both concur in opposite charms, iv. 20.
Two hosts fare fighting thee the livelong day, i. 132.
Two lovers barred from every joy and bliss, v. 240.
Two things there are, for which if eyes wept tear on tear, viii. 263.
Two things there be, an blood-tears thereover, viii. 106.
Two nests in one, blood flowing easiest wise, v. 239.
Tyrannise not, if thou hast the power to do so, iv. 189.
Umm Amr’, thy boons Allah repay! v. 118.
Under my raiment a waste body lies, v. 151.
Under these domes how many a company, vi.91.
Union, this severance ended, shall I see some day? iii. 12.
Unjust it were to bid the world be just i. 237.,
Uns al-Wujud dost deem me fancy free, v. 43.
Unto thee, As’ad! I of passion pangs complain, iii. 312.
Unto thy phantom deal behest, vii. 109.
Upsprings from table of his lovely cheek vii. 277.
Veiling her cheeks with hair a-morn she comes, i. 218.
Verily women are devils created for us, iii. 322.
Vied the full moon for folly with her face, viii. 291.
Virtue in hand of thee hath built a house, iv. 138.
Visit thy lover, spurn what envy told, i. 223.
Void are the private rooms of treasury, iv. 267.
Wail for the little partridges on porringer and plate, i. 131.
Wands of green chrysolite bare issue which, viii. 275.
‘Ware how thou hurtest man with hurt of hearts, ii. 197.
‘Ware that truth thou speak, albe sooth when said, x. 23.
Was’t archer shot me, or was’t thine eyes, v. 33.
Watch some tall ship she’ll joy the sight of thee, ii. 20.
Watered steel-blade, the world perfection calls, vii. 173.
Waters of beauty e’er his cheeks flow bright, viii. 299.
We joy in full Moon who the wine bears round, viii. 227.
We left not taking leave of thee (when bound to other goal), viii. 63.
We lived on earth a life of fair content, v. 71.
We lived till saw we all the marvels Love can bear, v. 54.
We’ll drink and Allah pardon sinners all, viii. 277.
We never heard of wight nor yet espied, viii. 296.
We reck not, an our life escape from bane, vii. 99.
We tread the path where Fate hath led, i. 107.
We trod the steps appointed for us, x. 53.
We trod the steps that for us were writ, ix. 226.
We were and were the days enthralled to all our wills, ii. 182.
We were like willow-boughs in garden shining, vii. 132.
We wrought them weal, they met our weal with ill, i. 43.
Welcome the Fig! To us it comes, viii. 269.
Well Allah weets that since our severance-day, iii. 8.
Well Allah wots that since my severance from thee, iii. 292.
Well Allah wotteth I am sorely plagued, v. 139.
Well learnt we, since you left, our grief and sorrow to sustain, iii. 63.
Wend to that pious prayerful Emir, v. 274.
Were I to dwell on heart-consuming heat, iii.310.
Were it said to me while the flame is burning within me, vii. 282.
Were not the Murk of gender male, x. 60.
What ails the Beauty, she returneth not? v. 137.
What ails the Raven that he croaks my lover’s house hard by, viii. 242.
What can the slave do when pursued by Fate, iii.341.
What fair excuse is this my pining plight, v. 52.
What I left, I left it not for nobility of soul, vi. 92.
What pathway find I my desire to obtain, v. 42.
What sayest of one by a sickness caught, v. 164.
What sayest thou of him by sickness waste, v. 73.
What secret kept I these my tears have told, iii. 285.
What’s life to me, unless I see the pearly sheen, iii. 65.
What’s this? I pass by tombs, and fondly greet, iii. 46.
What time Fate’s tyranny shall oppress thee, i. 119.
Whate’er they say of grief to lovers came, iii. 33.
Whatever needful thing thou undertake, i. 307.
Whatso is not to be no sleight shall bring to pass, ii. 279.
Whatso is not to be shall ne’er become, iii. 162.
When a nickname or little name men design, i. 350.
When Allah willeth aught befal a man, i. 275.
When comes she slays she; and when back she turns, iv. 232.
When drew she near to bid adieu with heart unstrung, i. 158.
Whene’er the Lord ’gainst any man, viii. 314.
When fails my wealth no friend will deign befriend, i. 208, iv. 189.
When fortune weighs heavy on some of us iii. 141.
When forwards Allah’s aid a man’s intent, x. 53.
When God upon a man possessed of reasoning, viii. 21.
When he who is asked a favour saith “To-morrow,” i. 196.
When his softly bending shape bid him close to my embrace, iii. 306.
When I drew up her shift from the roof of her coynte, ii. 331.
When I far-parted patience call and tears vi. 279.
When I righted and dayed in Damascus town, i, 233.
When I think of my love and our parting smart, i. 250.
When I took up her shift and discovered the terrace-roof of her kaze, viii. 32.
When in thy mother’s womb thou west
When its birds in the lake make melody vi. 277.
When Khalid menaced off to strike my hand, iv. 156.
When love and longing and regret are mine, ii. 34.
When man keeps honour bright without a stem, iv. 106.
When my blamer saw me beside my love, ix. 1.
When oped the inkhorn of thy wealth and fame, i. 129.
When saw I Pleiad stars his glance escape, iii. 221.
When shall be healed of thee this heart that ever bides in woe? ii. 296.
When shall disunion and estrangement end? iv. 137.
When shall the disappointed heart be healed of severance, iii. 58.
When shall the severance-fire be quenched by union, love, with you, viii. 62.
When she’s incensed thou seest folk lie slain, viii. 165.
When straitened is my breast I will of my Creator pray, viii. 149.
When the Kings’ King giveth, in reverence pause, x. 35.
When the slanderers only to part us cared, iv. 19.
When the tyrant enters the lieges land, iii. 120.
When the World heaps favours on thee pass on, ii. 13.
When they made their camels yellow-white kneel down at dawning grey, v. 140.
When they to me had brought the leach and surely showed, v. 286.
When thou art seized of Evil Fate assume, i. 38.
When thou seest parting be patient still, viii. 63.
When to sore parting Fate our love shall doom, to distant life by
Destiny decreed, i. 129.
When we drank the wine, and it crept its way, x. 37.
When we met we complained, i. 249.
When will time grant we meet, when shall we be, viii. 86.
When wilt thou be wise and love-heat allay, v. 78.
Whenas mine eyes behold her loveliness vii. 244.
Whenas on any land the oppressor cloth alight, iii. 130.
Where are the Kings earth-peopling where are they? vi. 103.
Where be the Earth kings who from where they ‘bode, vi. 105
Where be the Kings who ruled the Franks of old? vi. 106.
Where be the men who built and fortified vi. 104.
Where gone is Bounty since thy hand is turned to clay? ii. 282.
Where is the man who built the Pyramids? v. 107
Where is the man who did those labours ply, vi. 105.
Where is the way to Consolation’s door, viii. 240.
Where is the wight who peopled in the past, vi. 104.
While girl with softly rounded polished cheeks, iv. 249.
While slanderers slumber, longsome is my night, iii. 221.
While that fair-faced boy abode in the place, ix. 250.
While thou’rt my lord whose bounty’s my estate, iv. 2.
Who cloth kindness to men shall be paid again, v. 104.
Who loves not swan-neck and gazelle-like eyes, iii. 34.
Who made all graces all collected He, iv. 111.
Who saith that love at first of free will came, ii. 302.
Who seeketh for pearl in the Deep dives deep, ii. 208.
Who shall save me from love of a lovely gazelle, vii. 282.
Who shall support me in calamities, ii. 40.
Who trusteth secret to another’s hand, i. 87.
Whom I irk let him fly fro’ me fast and faster, viii. 315.
Whoso ne’er tasted of Love’s sweets and bitter-draught, iv. 237.
Whoso shall see the death-day of his foe, ii. 41.
Whoso two dirhams hath, his lips have learnt, iv. 171.
Why dost thou weep when I depart and thou didst parting claim, v. 295.
Why not incline me to that show of silky down, iv. 258.
Why then waste I my time in grief, until, i. 256.
Will Fate with joy of union ever bless our sight, v. 128.
Wilt thou be just to others in thy love and do, iv. 264.
Wilt turn thy face from heart that’s all thine own, v. 278.
Wilt tyrant play with truest friend who thinks of thee each hour, iii. 269.
Wine cup and ruby wine high worship claim, x. 41.
With all my soul I’ll ransom him who came to me in gloom, vii. 253.
With Allah take I refuge from whatever driveth me, iv. 254.
With fire they boiled me to loose my tongue, i. 132.
With heavy back parts, high breasts delicate, ii. 98.
With thee that pear agree, whose hue amorn, viii. 270.
With you is my heart-cure a heart that goes, viii. 78.
Wither thy right, O smith, which made her bear, viii. 246.
Within my heart is fire, vii. 127.
Witnesses unto love of thee I’ve four viii. 106.
Woe’s me! why should the blamer gar thee blaming bow? ii. 305.
Women are Satans made for woe o’ man iii. 318.
Women for all the chastity they claim, iii. 216.
Women Satans are, made for woe of man, ix. 282.
Would he come to my bed during sleep ’twere delight, vii. 111.
Would Heaven I knew (but many are the shifts of joy and woe), v. 75.
Would Heaven I saw at this hour, iii. 134.
Would Heaven I wot, will ever Time bring our beloveds back again? viii. 320.
Would Heaven the phantom spared the friend at night, v. 348.
Would I wot for what crime shot and pierced are we, viii. 238.
Would they the lover seek without ado, viii. 281.
Wrong not thy neighbour even if thou have power, iii. 136.
Ye are the wish, the aim of me, i. 98.
Ye promised us and will ye not keep plight? iii. 282.
Yea, Allah hath joined the parted twain, ix. 205.
Yea, I will laud thee while the ringdove moans, viii. 100.
Yellowness, tincturing her tho’ nowise sick or sorry, iv. 259.
Yestre’en my love with slaughter menaced me, iii. 27.
You are my wish, of creatures brightest light, viii. 76.
You have honoured us visiting this our land, ii. 34.
You’ve roused my desire and remain at rest, viii. 101.
You’re far, yet to my heart you’re nearest near, viii. 111.
Your faring on the parting day drew many a tear fro’ me, viii. 61.
[Index III-B is not included]
Introduction — Night
a. The Bull and the Ass.
1. The Trader and the Jinni. 1
a. The First Old Man’s Story 2
b. The Second Old Man’s Story 4
(The Third Old Man’s Story is wanting.)
2. The Fisherman and the Jinni 8
a. The Physician Duban 9
aa. The Merchant and the Parrot 14
ab. The Prince and the Ogress 15
b. The Ensorcelled Youth 21
3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad 28
a. The First Kalandar’s Tale 39
b. The Second Kalandar’s Tale 42
ba. The Envier and the Envied 46
c. The Third Kalandar’s Tale 53
d. The Eldest Lady’s Tale 64
(The Story of the Portress is wanting.)
4. The Three Apples 68
5. Nur al-Din Ali and his Son Badr al-Din Hassan 72
6. Isaac of Mosul’s Story of Khadijah and the Caliph Al–Maamun 94
7. The Hunchback’s Tale 101
a. The Nazarene Broker’s Story 109
b. The Cook’s Story 121
(The Reeve or Comptroller’s Tale in the Bresl., Mac. and Bull Edits.)
c. The Jewish Physician’s Story 124
d. Tale of the Tailor 136
e. The Barber’s Tale of Himself 143
ea. The Barber’s Tale of his First Brother 145
eb. The Barber’s Tale of his Second Brother 148
ec. The Barber’s Tale of his Third Brother 151
ed. The Barber’s Tale of his Fourth Brother 152
ee. The Barber’s Tale of his Fifth Brother 154
ef. Story of the Barber’s Sixth Brother 158
8. Ali bin Bakkar and Shams Al–Nahar 161
9. Nur al-Din Ali and the Damsel Anis al-Jalis 181
10. Women’s Craft 195
11. Sindbad the Seaman and Hindbad the Hammal
(In Mac. and Bresl. Edit.: “Sindibad the Sailor and Sindbad the Hammal,”)
a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.
b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.
c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.
d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.
e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.
f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.
g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.
Night
Introduction. — Story of King Shehriyar and his Brother.
a. Story of the Ox and the Ass.
1. The Merchant and the Genie 1
a. The First Old Man’s Story 4
b. The Second Old Man’s Story 6
c. The Third Old Man’s Story 8
2. The Fisherman and the Genie 8
a. Story of the Physician Duban 11
aa. Story of the Jealous Man and the Parrot1 14
ab. Story of the King’s Son and the Ogress 15
b. Story of the Enchanted Youth 21
3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad 28
a. The First Calender’s Story 37
b. The Second Calender’s Story 40
ba. The Envier and the Envied 46
c. The Third Calender’s Story 53
d. The Eldest Lady’s Story 63
e. Story of the Portress 67
4. The Three Apples 69
5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his son Bedreddin Hassan 72
6. Story of the Hunchback 102
a. The Christian Broker’s Story 107
b. The Controller’s Story 119
c. The Jewish Physician’s Story 129
d. The Tailor’s Story 137
e. The Barber’s Story 149
ea. Story of the Barber’s First Brother 150
eb. Story of the Barber’s Second Brother 154
ec. Story of the Barber’s Third Brother 157
ed. Story of the Barber’s Fourth Brother 157
ee. Story of the Barber’s Fifth Brother 160
ef. Story of the Barber’s Sixth Brother 164
7. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar 169
8. Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Enis el Jelis 199
9. Kemerezzeman and Budour 218
10. The Enchanted Horse 244
11. The Voyages of Sindbad the Sailor 250
a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 252
b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 253
c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 255
d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 259
e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 263
f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 266
g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 269
12. Asleep and Awake 271
a. The Lackpenny and the Cook 273
13. Seif el Mulouk and Bediya el-Jemal 291
14. Khelif the Fisherman2 321
15. Ghanim ben Eyoub the Slave of Love 332
a. Story of the Eunuch Sewab3 334
b. Story of the Eunuch Kafour 334
16. Uns el Wujoud and the Vizier’s Daughter Rose-in-bud 341
17. The Merchant of Oman 354
18. Ardeshir and Heyat en Nufous 364
19. Hassan of Bassora and the King’s Daughter of the Jinn 396
20. Haroun er Rashid and the Three Poets 432
21. Omar ben Abdulaziz and the Poets 432
22. El Hejjaj and the Three Young Men 434
23. Er Reshid and the Woman of the Barmecides 434
24. The Ten Viziers, or the History of King Azadbekht and his
Son 435
a. The Unlucky Merchant 440
b. The Merchant and his Sons 444
c. Abu Sabir 448
d. Prince Bihzad 453
e. King Dadbin and his Viziers 455
f. King Bekhtzeman 461
g. King Bihkerd 464
h. Ilan Shah and Abou Temam 466
i. King Ibrahim and his Son 471
j. King Suleiman Shah and his Sons 475
k. The Prisoner and how God gave him Relief 485
25. The City of Brass 487
26. Nimeh ben er Rebya and Num his Slave-girl 501
27. Alaeddin Abou es Shamat 520
28. Hatim Tai; his Generosity after Death 531
29. Maan ben Zaideh and the three Girls 532
30. Maan ben Zaideh and the Bedouin 532
31. The City of Lebtait 532
32. The Khalif Hisham and the Arab Youth 534
33. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Barber–Surgeon 534
34. The City of Iram 538
35. Isaac of Mosul’s Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif Mamoun 540
36. The Mock Khalif 543
37. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Er Reshid and Jaafar 555
38. The Lover who feigned himself a Thief to save his Mistress’s
Honour 557
39. Abou Mohammed the Lazy 563
40. Jaafar ben Yehya and Abdulmelik ben Salih 565
41. Jaafar ben Yehya4 and the Man who forged a Letter
in
his Name 566
42. Er Reshid and the Barmecides 567
43. Ibn es Semmak and Er Reshid 568
44. El Mamoun and Zubeideh 568
45. Ali Shir5 and Zummurrud 569
46. The Loves of Budour and Jubeir ben Umeir 587
47. The Man of Yemen and his Six Slave-girls 595
48. Haroun Er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwas 600
49. The Man who stole the Dog’s Dish of Gold 602
50. El Melik en Nasir and the Three Masters of Police 603
a. Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police 604
b. Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police 605
c. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police 605
51. The Thief and the Money-changer 605
52. Ibrahim ben el Mekdi and the Merchant’s Sister 606
53. King Kelyaad6 of Hind and his Vizier Shimas
609
a. The Cat and the Mouse 609
b. The Fakir and his Pot of Butter 610
c. The Fishes and the Crab 611
d. The Crow and the Serpent 611
e. The Fox and the Wild Ass 611
f. The Unjust King and the Pilgrim Prince 612
g. The Crows and the Hawk 613
h. The Serpent–Charmer and his Wife 614
i. The Spider and the Wind 615
j. The Two Kings 616
k. The Blind Man and the Cripple 616
1. The Foolish Fisherman 626
m. The Boy and the Thieves 627
n. The Man and his Wilful Wife 627
o. The Merchant and the Thieves 629
p. The Foxes and the Wolf 630
q. The Shepherd and the Thief 632
r. The Heathcock and the Tortoises 634
54. The Woman whose Hands were cut off for Almsgiving 641
55. The Poor Man and His Generous Friend 643
56. The Ruined Man who became Rich again through a Dream 644
57. Abou Nuwas with the Three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er
Reshid 645
58. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh7 646
59. El Mutelemmis and his Wife Umeimeh 648
60. Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath 648
61. Musab ben ez Zubeir and Aaisheh his Wife 649
62. Aboulaswed and his Squinting Slave-girl 651
63. Haroun er Reshid and the Two Girls 651
64. Haroun er Reshid and the Three Girls 651
65. The Simpleton and the Sharper 652
66. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Er Reshid and Zubeideh 652
67. The Khalif El Hakim and the Merchant 653
68. Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel 653
69. The Water–Carrier and the Goldsmith’s Wife 654
70. Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman. 656
71. Yehya ben Khalid and the Poor Man 656
72. Mohammed el Amin and Jaafar ben el Hadi 657
73. The Woman’s Trick against her Husband 658
74. The Devout Woman and the Two Wicked Elders 659
75. El Fezl ben Rebiya8 and the Old Bedouin 660
76. En Numan and the Arab of the Benou Tai 660
77. The Draper and the Thief9 661
78. Mesrour and Ibn el-Caribi 662
79. The Devout Prince 664
80. The Schoolmaster who fell in Love by Report 665
81. The Foolish Schoolmaster 666
82. The Ignorant Man who set up for a Schoolmaster 667
83. Adi ben Zeid and the Princess Hind 668
84. Dibil el Khuzai; with the Lady and Muslim ben el Welid 670
85. Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant 670
86. The Three Unfortunate Lovers 672
87. The Lovers of the Benou Tai 673
88. The Mad Lover 674
89. Firouz and his Wife 675
90. The Apples of Paradise 676
91. The Loves of Abou Isa and Curret el Ain 678
92. El Amin and his Uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi 682
93. El Feth ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil 683
94. The Man’s Dispute with the Learned Woman of the relative
Excellence of the Sexes 683
95. Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old woman 687
96. Ali ben Tahir and the Girl Mounis 688
97. The Woman who had a Boy and the other who had a Man to Lover
688
98. The Haunted House in Baghdad 688
99. The History of Gherib and his brother Agib 698
100. The Rogueries of Delileh the Crafty and her daughter
Zeyned the Trickstress 755
101. The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo 766
102. Joudar and his Brothers 776
103. Julnar of the Sea and her Son King Bedr Basim of Persia
794
104. Mesrour and Zein el Mewasif 821
105. Ali Noureddin and the Frank King’s Daughter 831
106. The Man of Upper Egypt and his Frank Wife 862
107. The Ruined Man of Baghdad and his Slave-girl 864
108. Aboukir the Dyer and Abousir the Barber 867
109. Abdallah the Fisherman and Abdallah the Merman 877
110. King Shah Bekht and his Vizier Er Rehwan 885
a. The Man of Khorassan, his Son and his Governor 886
b. The Singer and the Druggist 888
c. The King who knew the Quintessence of Things 891
d. The Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in Marriage to
the Poor Old Man 892
e. The Rich Man and his Wasteful Son 893
f. The King’s Son who fell in Love with the Picture 894
g. The Fuller and his Wife 896
h. The Old Woman, the Merchant and the King 896
i. The Credulous Husband. 898
j. The Unjust King and the Tither 899
ja. Story of David and Solomon 899
k. The Thief and the Woman 899
l. The Three Men and our Lord Jesus 901
la. The Disciple’s Story 901
m. The Dethroned King whose Kingdom and Good were Restored
to Him 901
n. The Man whose Caution was the Cause of his Death 903
o. The Man who was lavish of his House and his Victual to
one whom he
knew not 904
p. The Idiot and the Sharper 905
q. Khelbes and his Wife and the Learned Man 906
r. The Pious Woman accused of Lewdness 907
s. The Journeyman and the Girl 909
t. The Weaver who became a Physician by his Wife’s
Commandment 909
u. The Two Sharpers who cheated each his Fellow 911
v. The Sharpers with the Money Changer and the Ass 914
w. The Sharper and the Merchants 915
wa. The Hawk and the Locust 916
x. The King and his Chamberlain’s Wife. 917
xa. The Old Woman and the Draper’s Wife 917
y. The foul-favoured Man and his Fair Wife 918
z. The King who lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth and God
restored
them to him 919
za. Selim and Selma 922
zb. The King of Hind and his Vizier 928
111. El Melik er Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and
the Sixteen Officers of Police 930
a. The First Officer’s Story 930
b. The Second Officer’s Story 932
c. The Third Officer’s Story 932
d. The Fourth Officer’s Story 934
e. The Fifth Officer’s Story 934
f. The Sixth Officer’s Story 934
g. The Seventh Officer’s Story 934
h. The Eighth Officer’s Story 935
ha. The Thief’s Story 938
i. The Ninth Officer’s Story 938
j. The Tenth Officer’s Story 938
k. The Eleventh Officer’s Story 938
l. The Twelfth Officer’s Story 939
m. The Thirteenth Officer’s Story 939
n. The Fourteenth Officer’s Story 939
na. A Merry Jest of a Thief 940
nb. Story of the Old Sharper 940
o. The Fifteenth Officer’s Story 940
p. The Sixteenth Officer’s Story 940
112. Abdallah ben Nafi and the King’s Son of Cashghar 941
a. Story of Tuhfet el Culoub and Haroun er Reshid 942
113. Noureddin Ali and Sitt el Milah 958
114. El Abbas and the King’s Daughter of Baghdad 966
115. The Malice of Women 979
a. The King and his Vizier’s Wife 980
b. The Merchant’s Wife and the Parrot 980
c. The Fuller and his Son 980
d. The Lover’s Trick against the Chaste Wife 980
e. The Niggard and the Loaves of Bread 980
f. The Lady and her Two Lovers 980
g. The King’s Son and the Ogress 985
h. The Drop of Honey 986
i. The Woman who make her Husband Sift Dust 986
j. The Enchanted Springs 986
k. The Vizier’s Son and the Bathkeeper’s Wife 988
1. The Wife’s Device to Cheat her Husband 989
m. The Goldsmith and the Cashmere Singing–Girl 990
n. The Man who. never Laughed again 991
o. The King’s Son and the Merchant’s Wife 993
p. The Man who saw the Night of Power 993
q. The Stolen Necklace 994
r. Prince Behram of Persia and the Princess Ed Detma 994
s. The House with the Belvedere 995
t. The Sandalwood Merchant and the Sharpers 998
u. The Debauchee and the Three-year-old Child 998
v. The Stolen Purse 999
w. The Fox and the Folk10 1000
116. The Two Kings and the Vizier’s Daughters 1001
117. The Favourite and her Lover 1001
118. The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif
El Mamoun El
Hakim bi Amrillah 1001
Conclusion.
1 Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac 134b “The Merchant’s Wife and the Parrot.”
2 This will be found translated in my “Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,” vol. vii. p. 307, as an Appendix to the Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac version of the story, from which it differs in detail.
3 Called “Bekhit” in Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac Editions.
4 Yehya ben Khalid (Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac),
5 “Shar” (Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac).
6 “Jelyaad” (Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac.)
7 Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac, No. 63. See my “Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,” vol. iv., p. 211.
8 Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac, “Jaafar the Barmecide.”
9 Calcutta (1839–42) and Boulac, “The Thief turned Merchant and the other Thief,” No. 88.
10 This story will be found translated in my “Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,” vol. v., p. 345.
Introduction. — Story of King Shehrlyar and his Brother
a. Story of the Ox and the Ass
1. The Merchant and the Genie 1
a. The First Old Man’s Story 1
b. The Second Old Man’s Story 2
c. The Third Old Man’s Story 2
2. The Fisherman and the Genie 3
a. Story of the Physician Douban 4
aa. Story of King Sindbad and his Falcon1 5
ab. Story of the King’s Son and the Ogress. 5
b. Story of the Enchanted Youth 7
3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad 9
a. The First Calender’s Story 11
b. The Second Calender’s Story 12
ba. Story of the Envier and the Envied2 13
c. The Third Calender’s Story 14
d. The Eldest Lady’s Story 17
e. The Story of the Portress 18
4. The Three Apples 19
5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his Son Bedreddin Hassan 20
6. Story of the Hunchback 25
a. The Christian Broker’s Story 25
b. The Controller’s Story 27
c. The Jewish Physician’s Story 28
d. The Tailor’s Story 29
e. The Barber’s Story 31
ea. Story of the Barber’s First Brother 31
eb. Story of the Barber’s Second Brother 31
ec. Story of the Barber’s Third Brother 32
ed. Story of the Barber’s Fourth Brother 32
ee. Story of the Barber’s Fifth Brother 32
ef. Story of the Barber’s Sixth Brother 33
7 Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Enis el Jelis 34
8 Ghanim ben Eyoub the Slave of Love 39
a Story of the Eunuch Bekhit 39
b Story of the Eunuch Kafour 39
9. The History of King Omar ben Ennuman and his Sons Sherkan
and Zoulmekan 45
a. Story of Taj el Mulouk and the Princess Dunya 107
aa. Story of Aziz and Azizeh 107
b. Bakoun’s Story of the Hashish–Eater 143
c. Hemmad the Bedouin’s Story 144
10. The Birds and Beasts and the Son of Adam 146
11. The Hermits 148
12. The Waterfowl and the Tortoise 148
13. The Wolf and the Fox 148
a. The Hawk and the Partridge 149
14. The Mouse and the Weasel 150
15. The Cat and the Crow 150
16. The Fox and the Crow 150
a. The Mouse and the Flea 151
b. The Falcon and the Birds 152
c. The Sparrow and the Eagle 152
17. The Hedgehog and the Pigeons 152
a. The Merchant and the Two Sharpers 152
18. The Thief and his Monkey 152
a. The Foolish Weaver 152
19. The Sparrow and the Peacock 152
20. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar 153
21. Kemerezzeman and Budour 170
a. Nimeh ben er Rebya and Num his Slave-girl 237
22. Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat 250
23. Hatim et Taï; his Generosity after Death 270
24. Maan ben Zaïdeh and the three Girls 271
25. Maan ben Zaïdeh and the Bedouin 271
26. The City of Lebtait 272
27. The Khalif Hisham and the Arab Youth 272
28. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Barber-surgeon 273
29. The City of Irem 274
30. Isaac of Mosul’s Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif Mamoun 279
31. The Scavenger and the Noble Lady of Baghdad 282
32. The Mock Khalif 286
33. Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper 294
34. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshid and his Vizier
Jaafer 296
35. The Lover who feigned himself a Thief to save his Mistress’s
Honour 297
36. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Bean–Seller 299
37. Abou Mohammed the Lazy 300
38. Yehya ben Khalid and Mensour 305
39. Yehya ben Khalid and the Man who forged a Letter in his
Name. 306
40. The Khalif El Mamoun and the Strange Doctor 307
41. Ali Shar and Zumurrud 308
42. The Loves of Jubeir ben Umeir and the Lady Budour 327
43. The Man of Yemen and his six Slave-girls 334
44. Haroun er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwas 338
45. The Man who stole the Dog’s Dish of Gold 340
46. The Sharper of Alexandria and the Master of Police 341
47. El Melik en Nasir and the three Masters of Police 343
a. Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police 343
b. Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police 344
c. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police 344
48. The Thief and the Money–Changer 344
49. The Chief of the Cous Police and the Sharper 345
50. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Merchant’s Sister 346
51. The Woman whose Hands were cut off for Almsgiving 348
52. The Devout Israelite 348
53. Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi and the Man from Khorassan 349
54. The Poor Man and his Generous Friend 351
55. The Ruined Man who became Rich again through a Dream 351
56. El Mutawekkil and his Favourite Mebboubeh 351
57. Werdan the Butcher’s Adventure with the Lady and the Bear 353
58. The King’s Daughter and the Ape 354
59. The Enchanted Horse 357
60. Uns el Wujoud and the Vizier’s Daughter Rose-in-bud 371
61. Abou Nuwas with the three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er
Reshid 381
62. Abdallah ben Maamer with the Man of Bassora and his
Slave-girl 383
63. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh 383
64. The Vizier of Yemen and his young Brother 384
65. The Loves of the Boy and Girl at School 385
66. El Mutelemmis and his Wife Umeimeh 385
67. Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath 385
68. Haroun er Reshid and the three Poets 386
69. Musab ben er Zubeir and Aaisheh his Wife 386
70. Aboulaswed and his squinting Slave-girl 387
71. Haroun er Reshid and the two Girls 387
72. Haroun er Reshid and the three Girls 387
73. The Miller and his Wife 387
74. The Simpleton and the Sharper 388
75. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh 388
76. The Khalif El Hakim and the Merchant 389
77. King Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel. 389
78. The Water–Carrier and the Goldsmith’s Wife 390
79. Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman 391
80. Yehya ben Khalid and the Poor Man 391
81. Mohammed el Amin and Jaafer ben el Hadi 392
82. Said ben Salim and the Barmecides 392
83. The Woman’s Trick against her Husband 393
84. The Devout Woman and the two Wicked Elders 394
85. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Old Bedouin 395
86. Omar ben el Khettab and the Young Bedouin 395
87. El Mamoun and the Pyramids of Egypt 398
88. The Thief turned Merchant and the other Thief 398
89. Mesrour and Ibn el Caribi 399
90. The Devout Prince 401
91. The Schoolmaster who Fell in Love by Report 402
92. The Foolish Schoolmaster 403
93. The Ignorant Man who set up for a Schoolmaster 403
94. The King and the Virtuous Wife 404
95. Abdurrehman she Moor’s Story of the Roc 404
96. Adi ben Zeid and the Princess Hind 405
97. Dibil el Khuzai with the Lady and Muslim ben el Welid 407
98. Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant 407
99. The Three Unfortunate Lovers3 409
100. The Lovers of the Benou Tai 410
101. The Mad Lover 411
102. The Apples of Paradise 412
103. The Loves of Abou Isa and Curret el Ain 414
104. El Amin and his Uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi 418
105. El Feth ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil 419
106. The Man’s Dispute with the Learned Woman of the
relative Excellence of the Sexes 419
107. Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old Woman 423
108. Ali ben Tahir and the Girl Mounis 424
109. The Woman who had a Boy and the other who had a Man to
Lover 424
110. The Haunted House in Baghdad 424
111. The Pilgrim and the Old Woman who dwelt in the Desert434
112. Aboulhusn and his Slave-girl Taweddud 436
113. The Angel of Death with the Proud King and the Devout
Man 442
114. The angel of Death and the Rich King 442
115. The Angel of Death and the King of the Children of
Israel 443
116. Iskender Dhoulkernein and a certain Tribe of Poor Folk444
117. The Righteousness of King Anoushirwan 444
118. The Jewish Cadi and his Pious Wife 445
119. The Shipwrecked Woman and her Child 446
120. The Pious Black Slave 447
121. The Devout Platter-maker and his Wife 448
122. El Hejjaj ben Yousuf and the Pious Man 470
123. The Blacksmith who could Handle Fire without Hurt 471
124. The Saint to whom God gave a Cloud to serve Him and the
Devout King 473
125. The Muslim Champion and the Christian Lady 474
126. Ibrahim ben el Khawwas and the Christian King’s
Daughter 477
127. The Justice of Providence 478
128. The Ferryman of the Nile and the Hermit 479
129. The King of the Island 479
130. Abulhusn ed Durraj and Abou Jaafer the Leper 481
131. The Queen of the Serpents 182
a. The Adventures of Beloukiya 486
b. The Story of Janshak 499
132. Sindbad the Sailor and Sindbad the Porter 536
a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 538
b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 543
c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 546
d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 550
e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 556
f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 559
g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor 563
133. The City of Brass 566
134. The Malice of Women 578
a. The King and his Vizier’s Wife 578
b. The Merchant’s Wife and the Parrot 579
c. The Fuller and his Son. 579
d. The Lover’s Trick against the Chaste Wife 580
e. The Niggard and the Loaves of Bread 580
f. The Lady and her Two Lovers 581
g. The King’s Son and the Ogress 581
h. The Drop of Honey. 582
i. The Woman who made her Husband sift Dust 582
j. The Enchanted Springs 582
k. The Vizier’s Son and the Bathkeeper’s Wife 584
1. The Wife’s Device to Cheat her Husband 584
m. The Goldsmith and the Cashmere Singing-girl 586
n. The Man who never Laughed again 587
o. The King’s Son and the Merchant’s Wife 591
p. The Page who feigned to know the Speech of Birds 592
q. The Lady and her five Suitors 593
r. The Man who saw the Night of Power 596
s. The Stolen Necklace 596
t. The two Pigeons 597
u. Prince Behram of Persia and the Princess Ed Detma 597
v. The House with the Belvedere 598
w. The King’s Son and the Afrit’s Mistress 602
x. The Sandal-wood Merchant and the Sharpers 603
y. The Debauchee and the Three year-old Child 605
z. The Stolen Purse 605
135. Jouder and his Brothers 606
136. The History of Gherib and his Brother Agib 624
137. Otbeh and Reyya 630
138. Hind Daughter of En Numan and El Hejjaj 631
139. Khuzeimeh ben Bishr and Ikrimeh el Feyyaz 632
140. Younus the Scribe and the Khalif Welid ben Sehl 634
141. Haroun er Reshid and the Arab Girl 635
142. El Asmai and the three Girls of Bassora 636
143. Ibrahim of Mosul and the Devil 637
144. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh 638
145. The Bedouin and his Wife 691
146. The Lovers of Bassora 693
147. Isaac of Mosul and his Mistress and the Devil 695
148. The Lovers of Medina 696
149. El Melik en Nasir and his Vizier 697
150. The Rogueries of Delileh the Crafty and her Daughter
Zeyneb the Trickstress 698
151. The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo: a Sequel to
the Rogueries of Delileh the Crafty 708
152. Ardeshir and Heyat en Nufous. 719
153. Julnar of the Sea and her Son King Bedr Basim of Persia
738
154. King Mohammed ben Sebaik and the Merchant Hassan 756
a. Story of Prince Seif el Mulouk and the Princess Bediya
el Jemal 758
155. Hassan of Bassora and the King’s Daughter of the Jinn778
156. Khelifeh the Fisherman of Baghdad 832
157. Mesrour and Zein el Mewasif 845
158. Ali Noureddin and the Frank King’s Daughter 863
159. The Man of Upper Egypt and his Frank Wife 894
160. The Ruined Man of Baghdad and his Slave girl 896
161. King Jelyaad of Hind and his Vizier Shimas: whereafter
ensueth the History of King Wird Khan son of King
Jelyaad and his Women and Viziers 899
a. The Cat and the Mouse 900
b. The Fakir and his Pot of Butter 902
c. The Fishes and the Crab 903
d. The Crow and the Serpent 903
e. The Fox and the Wild Ass 904
f. The Unjust King and the Pilgrim Prince 905
g. The Crows and the Hawk 906
h. The Serpent–Charmer and his Wife 907
i. The Spider and the Wind 908
j. The Two Kings 909
k. The Blind Man and the Cripple 910
1. The Foolish Fisherman 918
m. The Boy and the Thieves 918
n. The Man and his Wilful Wife 919
o. The Merchant and the Thieves 920
p. The Foxes and the Wolf 921
q. The Shepherd and the Thief 921
r. The Heathcock and the Tortoises. 924
162. Aboukir the Dyer and Abousir the Barber 930
163. Abdallah the Fisherman and Abdallah the Merman 940
164. The Merchant of Oman 946
165. Ibrahim and Femileh 952
166. Aboulhusn of Khorassan 959
167. Kemerezzeman and the Jeweller’s Wife 963
168. Abdallah ben Fazil and his Brothers 978
169. Marouf the Cobbler and his Wife Fatimeh 989–1001
Conclusion
Introduction and
Nos. 1 to 6 of the preceding list from Volume I. of my Edition.
Nos. 7 to 9aa of the preceding list from Volume II. of my Edition.
Nos. 9aa to 21 of the preceding list from Volume III. of my Edition.
Nos. 21 to 58 of the preceding list from Volume IV. of my Edition.
Nos. 59 to 131 of the preceding list from Volume V. of my Edition.
Nos. 132 to 136 of the preceding list from Volume VI. of my Edition.
Nos. 136 to 154a of the preceding list from Volume VII. of my Edition.
Nos. 154a to 158 of the preceding list from Volume VIII. of my Edition.
Nos. 158 to 168 of the preceding list from Volume IX. of my Edition.
Nos. 169 and conclusion of the preceding list from Volume X. of my Edition.
For full details, see contents pages of each of the respective Volumes.
The European editions of the Thousand and One Nights, even excluding the hundreds of popular editions which have nothing specially noticeable about them, are very numerous; and the following Notes must, I am fully aware, be incomplete, though they will, perhaps, be found useful to persons interested in the subject. Although I believe that editions of most of the English, French, and German versions of any importance have passed through my hands, I have not had an opportunity of comparing many in other languages, some of which at least may be independent editions, not derived from Galland. The imitations and adaptations of The Nights are, perhaps, more numerous than the editions of The Nights themselves, if we exclude mere reprints of Galland; and many of them are even more difficult of access.
In the following Notes, I have sometimes referred to tales by their numbers in the Table.
Galland’s Ms. and Translation.
The first Ms. of The Nights known in Europe was brought to Paris by Galland at the close of the 17th century; and his translation was published in Paris, in twelve small volumes, under the title of “Les Mille et une Nuit: Contes Arabes, traduits en Francois par M. Galland.” These volumes appeared at intervals between 1704 and 1717. Galland himself died in 1715, and it is uncertain how far he was responsible for the latter part of the work. Only the first six of the twelve vols. are divided into Nights, vol. 6 completing the story of Camaralzaman, and ending with Night 234. The Voyages of Sindbad are not found in Galland’s Ms., though he has intercalated them as Nights 69–90 between Nos. 3 and 4. It should be mentioned, however, that in some texts (Bresl., for instance) No. 133 is placed much earlier in the series than in others.
The stories in Galland’s last six vols. may be divided into two classes, viz., those known to occur in genuine texts of The Nights, and those which do not. To the first category belong Nos. 7, 8, 59, 153 and 170; and some even of these are not found in Galland’s own Ms., but were derived by him from other sources. The remaining tales (Nos. 191–198) do not really belong to The Nights; and, strange to say, although they are certainly genuine Oriental tales, the actual originals have never been found. I am inclined to think that Galland may, perhaps, have written and adapted them from his recollection of stories which he himself heard related during his own residence in the East, especially as most of these tales appear to be derived rather from Persian or Turkish than from Arabian sources.
The following Preface appeared in vol. 9 which I translate from Talander’s German edition, as the original is not before me:
“The two stories with which the eighth volume concludes do not properly belong to the Thousand and One Nights. They were added and printed without the previous knowledge of the translator, who had not the slightest idea of the trick that had been played upon him until the eighth volume was actually on sale. The reader must not, therefore, be surprised that the story of the Sleeper Awakened, which commences vol. 9, is written as if Scheherazade had related it immediately after the story of Ganem, which forms the greater part of vol. 8. Care will be taken to omit these two stories in a new edition, as not belonging to the work.”
It is, perhaps, not to be wondered at that when the new edition was actually published, subsequently to Galland’s death, the condemned stories were retained, and the preface withdrawn; though No. 170 still reads as if it followed No. 8.
The information I have been able to collect respecting the disputed tales is very slight. I once saw a Ms. advertised in an auction catalogue (I think that of the library of the late Prof. H. H. Wilson) as containing two of Galland’s doubtful tales, but which they were was not stated. The fourth and last volume of the Ms. used by Galland is lost; but it is almost certain that it did not contain any of these tales (compare Payne, ix. 265 note).
The story of Zeyn Alasnam (No. 191) is derived from the same source as that of the Fourth Durwesh, in the well-known Hindustani reading-book, the Bagh o Bahar. If it is based upon this, Galland has greatly altered and improved it, and has given it the whole colouring of a European moral fairy tale.
The story of Ali Baba (No. 195) is, I have been told, a Chinese tale. It occurs under the title of the Two Brothers and the Forty-nine Dragons in Geldart’s Modern Greek Tales. It has also been stated that the late Prof. Palmer met with a very similar story among the Arabs of Sinai (Payne, ix. 266).
The story of Sidi Nouman (No 194b) may have been based partly upon the Third Shaykh’s Story (No. 1c), which Galland omits. The feast of the Ghools is, I believe, Greek or Turkish, rather than Arabic, in character, as vampires, personified plague, and similar horrors are much commoner in the folk-lore of the former peoples.
Many incidents of the doubtful, as well as of the genuine tales, are common in European folk-lore (versions of Nos. 2 and 198, for instance, occur in Grimm’s Kinder und Hausmärchen), and some of the doubtful tales have their analogues in Scott’s Ms., as will be noticed in due course.
I have not seen Galland’s original edition in 12 vols.; but the Stadt–Bibliothek of Frankfort-on-Main contains a copy, published at La Haye, in 12 vols. (with frontispieces), made up of two or more editions, as follows:—
Vol. i. (ed. 6) 1729; vols. ii. iii. iv. (ed. 5) 1729; vols. v. vi. viii. (ed. 5) 1728; vol. vii. (ed. 6) 1731; vols. ix. to xi, (ed. not noted) 1730; and vol. xii. (ed. not noted) 1731.
The discrepancies in the dates of the various volumes look (as Mr. Clouston has suggested) as if separate volumes were reprinted as required, independently of the others. This might account for vols. v. vi. and viii. of the fifth edition having been apparently reprinted before vols. ii. iii. and iv.
The oldest French version in the British Museum consists of the first eight vols., published at La Haye, and likewise made up of different editions, as follows:—
i. (ed. 5) 1714; ii. iii. iv. (ed. 4) 1714; v. vi. (ed. 5) 1728; vii. (ed. 5) 1719; viii. (“suivant la copie imprimée à Paris”) 1714.
Most French editions (old and new) contain Galland’s Dedication, “À Madame la Marquise d’O., Dame du Palais de Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne,” followed by an “Avertissement.” In addition to these, the La Haye copies have Fontenelle’s Approbation prefixed to several volumes, but in slightly different words, and bearing different dates. December 27th, 1703 (vol. i.); April 14th, 1704 (vol. vi.); and October 4th, 1705 (vol. vii.). This is according to the British Museum copy; I did not examine the Frankfort copy with reference to the Approbation. The Approbation is translated in full in the old English version as follows: “I have read, by Order of my Lord Chancellor, this Manuscript, wherein I find nothing that ought to hinder its being Printed. And I am of opinion that the Publick will be very well pleased with the Perusal of these Oriental Stories. Paris, 27th December, 1705 [apparently a misprint for 1703] (Signed) Fontenelle.”
In the Paris edition of 1726 (vide infrà), Galland says in his Dedication, “Il a fallu le faire venir de Syrie, et mettre en François, le premier volume que voici, de quatre seulement qui m’ont été envoyez.” So, also, in a Paris edition (in eight vols. 12mo) of 1832; but in the La Haye issue of 1714, we read not “quatre” but “six” volumes. The old German edition of Talander (vide infrà) does not contain Galland’s Dedication (Epitre) or Avertissement.
The earliest French editions were generally in 12 vols., or six; I possess a copy of a six-volume edition, published at Paris in 1726. It may be the second, as the title-page designates it as “nouvelle edition, corrigée.”
Galland’s work was speedily translated into various European languages, and even now forms the original of all the numerous popular editions. The earliest English editions were in six volumes, corresponding to the first six of Galland, and ending with the story of Camaralzaman; nor was it till nearly the end of the 18th century that the remaining half of the work was translated into English. The date of appearance of the first edition is unknown to bibliographers; Lowndes quotes an edition of 1724 as the oldest; but the British Museum contains a set of six vols., made up of portions of the second, third and fourth editions, as follows:—
Vols. i. ii. (ed. 4) 1713; vols. iii. iv. (ed. 2) 1712; and vols. v. vi. (ed. 3) 1715.
Here likewise the separate volumes seem to have been reprinted independently of each other; and it is not unlikely that the English translation may have closely followed the French publication, being issued volume by volume, as the French appeared, as far as vol. vi. The title-page of this old edition is very quaint:
“Arabian Nights Entertainments, consisting of One thousand and one Stories, told by the Sultaness of the Indies to divert the Sultan from the Execution of a Bloody Vow he had made, to marry a Lady every day, and have her head cut off next Morning, to avenge himself for the Disloyalty of the first Sultaness, also containing a better account of the Customs, Manners and Religion of the Eastern Nations, viz., Tartars, Persians and Indians, than is to be met with in any Author hitherto published. Translated into French from the Arabian Mss. by Mr. Galland of the Royal Academy, and now done into English. Printed for Andrew Bell at the Cross Keys and Bible, in Cornhill.”
The British Museum has an edition in 4to published in 1772, in farthing numbers, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It extends to 79 numbers, forming five volumes.
The various editions of the Old English version appear to be rare, and the set in the British Museum is very poor. The oldest edition which I have seen containing the latter half of Galland’s version is called the 14th edition, and was published in London in four volumes, in 1778. Curiously enough, the “13th edition,” also containing the conclusion, was published at Edinburgh in three volumes in 1780. Perhaps it is a reprint of a London edition published before that of 1778. The Scotch appear to have been fond of The Nights, as there are many Scotch editions both of The Nights and the imitations.
Revised or annotated editions by Piguenit (4 vols., London, 1792) and Gough (4 vols., Edinburgh, 1798) may deserve a passing notice.
A new translation of Galland, by Rev. E. Forster, in five vols. 4to, with engravings from pictures by Robert Smirke, R.A., appeared in 1802, and now commands a higher price than any other edition of Galland. A new edition in 8vo appeared in 1810. Most of the recent popular English versions are based either upon Forster’s or Scott’s.
Another translation from Galland, by G. S. Beaumont (four vols. 8vo), appeared in 1811. (Lowndes writes Wiliam Beaumont.)
Among the various popular editions of later date we may mention an edition in two vols., 8vo, published at Liverpool (1813), and containing Cazotte’s Continuation; an edition published by Griffin and Co., in 1866, to which Beckford’s “Vathek” is appended; an edition “arranged for the perusal of youthful readers,” by the Hon. Mrs. Sugden (Whittaker & Co., 1863); and “Five Favourite Tales from The Arabian Nights in words of one syllable, by A. & E. Warner” (Lewis, 1871).
Some of the English editions of Galland aim at originality by arranging the tales in a different order. The cheap edition published by Dicks in 1868 is one instance.
An English version of Galland was published at Lucknow, in four vols., 8vo, in 1880.
I should, perhaps, mention that I have not noticed De Sacy’s “Mille et une Nuit,” because it is simply a new edition of Galland; and I have not seen either Destain’s French edition (mentioned by Sir R. F. Burton), nor Cardonne’s Continuation (mentioned in Cabinet des Fées, xxxvii. p. 83). As Cardonne died in 1784, his Continuation, if genuine, would be the earliest of all.
The oldest German version, by Talander, seems to have appeared in volumes, as the French was issued; and these volumes were certainly reprinted when required, without indication of separate editions, but in slightly varied style, and with alteration of date. The old German version is said to be rarer than the French. It is in twelve parts — some, however, being double. The set before me is clearly made up of different reprints, and the first title-page is as follows: “Die Tausend und eine Nacht, worinnen seltzame Arabische Historien und wunderbare Begebenheiten, benebst artigen Liebes–Intriguen, auch Sitten und Gewohnheiten der Morgenländer, auf sehr anmuthige Weise, erzehlet werden; Erstlich vom Hru. Galland, der Königl. Academie Mitgliede aus der Arabischen Sprache in die Französische und aus selbiger anitzo ins Deutsche übersetzt: Erster und Anderer Theil. Mit der Vorrede Herru Talanders. Leipzig Verlegts Moritz Georg Weidmann Sr. Konigl. Maj. in Hohlen und Churfürstl. Durchl. zu Sachsen Buchhändler, Anno 1730.” Talander’s Preface relates chiefly to the importance of the work as illustrative of Arabian manners and customs, &c. It is dated from “Liegnitz, den 7 Sept., Anno 1710,” which fixes the approximate date of publication of the first part of this translation. Vols. i. and ii. of my set (double vol. with frontispiece) are dated 1730, and have Talander’s preface; vols. iii. and iv. (divided, but consecutively paged, and with only one title-page and frontispiece and reprint of Talander’s preface) are dated 1719; vols. v. and vi. (same remarks, except that Talander’s preface is here dated 1717) are dated 1737; vol. vii. (no frontispiece; preface dated 1710) is dated 1721; vol. viii (no frontispiece nor preface, nor does Talander’s name appear on the title-page) is dated 1729; vols. ix. and x. (divided, but consecutively paged, and with only one title-page and frontispiece; Talander’s name and preface do not appear, but Galland’s preface to vol. ix., already mentioned, is prefixed) are dated 1731; and vols. xi. and xii. (same remarks, but no preface) are dated 1732.
Galland’s notes are translated, but not his preface and dedication.
There is a later German translation (6 vols. 8vo, Bremen, 1781- 1785) by J. H. Voss, the author of the standard German translation of Homer.
The British Museum has just acquired a Portuguese translation of Galland, in 4 volumes: “As Mil e uma Noites, Contos Arabes,” published by Ernesto Chardron, Editor, Porto e Braga, 1881.
There are two editions of a modern Greek work in the British Museum (1792 and 1804), published at Venice in three small volumes. The first volume contains Galland (Nos. 1–6 of the table) and vols. ii. and iii. chiefly contain the Thousand and One Days. It is, apparently, translated from some Italian work.
Several editions in Italian (Mille ed una Notte) have appeared at Naples and Milan; they are said by Sir R. F. Burton to be mere reprints of Galland.
There are, also, several in Dutch, one of which, by C. Van der Post, in 3 vols. 8vo, published at Utrecht in 1848, purports, I believe, to be a translation from the Arabic, and has been reprinted several times. The Dutch editions are usually entitled, “Arabische Vertellinge.” A Danish edition appeared at Copenhagen in 1818, under the title of “Prindsesses Schehezerade. Fortällinger eller de saakatle Tusende og een Nat. Udgivna paa Dansk vid Heelegaan.” Another, by Rasmassen, was commenced in 1824; and a third Danish work, probably founded on the Thousand and One Nights, and published in 1816, bears the title, “Digt og Eventyr fra Osterland, af arabiska og persischen utrykta kilder.”
I have seen none of these Italian, Dutch or Danish editions; but there is little doubt that most, if not all, are derived from Galland’s work.
The following is the title of a Javanese version, derived from one of the Dutch editions, and published at Leyden in 1865, “Eenige Vertellingen uit de Arabisch duizend en één Nacht. Naar de Nederduitsche vertaling in het Javaansch vertaald, door Winter–Roorda.”
Mr. A. G. Ellis has shown me an edition of Galland’s Aladdin (No. 193) in Malay, by M. Van der Lawan (?) printed in Batavia, A.D. 1869.
We shall speak elsewhere of the Cabinet des Fées; but the last four volumes of this great collection (38 to 41), published at Geneva from 1788 to 1793, contain a work entitled, “Les Veillées du Sultan Schahriar avec la Sultane Scheherazade; histoires incroyables, amusantes et morales, traduites de l’arabe par M. Cazotte et D. Chavis. Faisant suite aux Mille et une Nuits.” Some copies bear the abridged title of “La suite des Mille et une Nuits. Contes Arabes, traduits par Dom Chavis et M. Cazotte.”
This collection of tales was pronounced to be spurious by many critics, and even has been styled “a bare-faced forgery” by a writer in the Edinburgh Review of July, 1886. It is, however, certain that the greater part, if not all, of these tales are founded on genuine Eastern sources, though very few have any real claim to be regarded as actually part of the Thousand and One Nights.
Translations of the originals of most of these tales have been published by Caussin de Perceval and Gauttier; and a comparison clearly shows the great extent to which Chavis and Cazotte have altered, amplified and (in a literary sense) improved their materials.
It is rather surprising that no recent edition of this work seems to have been issued, perhaps owing to the persistent doubts cast upon its authenticity, only a few of the tales, and those not the best, having appeared in different collections. My friend, Mr. A. G. Ellis, himself an Oriental scholar, has remarked to me that he considers these tales as good as the old “Arabian Nights”; and I quite agree with him that Chavis and Cazotte’s Continuation is well worthy of re-publication in its entirety.
The following are the principal tales comprised in this collection, those included in our Table from later authors being indicated.
The Robber Caliph, or the Adventures of Haroun Alraschid with the Princess of Persia, and the beautiful Zutulbe. (No. 246.)
The Power of Destiny, being the History of the Journey of Giafar to Damas, containing the Adventures of Chelih and his Family. (No. 280.)
History of Halechalbe and the Unknown Lady. (No. 204c.)
Story of Xailoun the Idiot.
The Adventures of Simoustapha and the Princess Ilsetilsone. (No. 247.)
History of Alibengiad, Sultan of Herak, and of the False Birds of Paradise.
History of Sinkarib and his Two Viziers. (No. 249.)
History of the Family of the Schebandad of Surat.
Story of Bohetzad and his Ten Viziers. (No. 174.)
Story of Habib and Dorathil–Goase. (No. 251.)
History of the Maugraby, or the Magician.
Of these, Nos. 4, 6, 8 and 11 only are not positively known in the original. No. 11 is interesting, as it is the seed from which Southey’s “Thalaba the Destroyer” was derived.
On the word Maugraby, which means simply Moor, Cazotte has the following curious note: “Ce mot signifie barbare, barbaresque plus proprement. On jure encore par lui en Provence, en Languedoc, et en Gascogne Maugraby; ou ailleurs en France Meugrebleu.”
The Domdaniel, where Zatanai held his court with Maugraby and his pupilmagicians, is described as being under the sea near Tunis. In Weil’s story of Joodar and Mahmood (No. 201) the Magician Mahmood is always called the Moor of Tunis.
No. 3 (=our No. 204c) contains the additional incident of the door opened only once a year which occurs in our No. 9a, aa.
Moore probably took the name Namouna from Cazotte’s No. 5, in which it occurs. In the same story we find a curious name of a Jinniyah, Setelpedour. Can it be a corruption of Sitt El Budoor?
For further remarks on Cazotte’s Continuation, compare Russell’s History of Aleppo, i. p. 385; and Russell and Scott, Ouseley’s Oriental Collections, i. pp. 246, 247; ii. p. 25; and the “Gentleman’s Magazine” for February, 1779.
An English version under the title “Arabian Tales, or a Continuation of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments,” translated by Robert Heron, was published in Edinburgh in 1792 in 4 vols., and in London in 1794 in 3 vols. It was reprinted in Weber’s “Tales of the East” (Edinburgh, 1812); and, as already mentioned, is included in an edition of the Arabian Nights published in Liverpool in 1813.
A German translation forms vols. 5 to 8 of the “Blaue Bibliothek,” published in Gotha in 1790 and 1791; and the British Museum possesses vols. 3 and 4 of a Russian edition, published at Moscow in 1794 and 1795, which is erroneously entered in the catalogue as the Arabian Nights in Russian.
Respecting the work of Chavis and Cazotte, Sir R. F. Burton remarks, “Dom Dennis Chavis was a Syrian priest of the order of Saint Bazil, who was invited to Paris by the learned minister, Baron Arteuil, and he was assisted by M. Cazotte, a French author, then well known, but wholly ignorant of Arabic. These tales are evidently derived from native sources; the story of Bohetzad (King Bakhtiyar) and his Ten Wazirs is taken bodily from the Bres. Edit. [not so; but the original Arabic had long been known in the French libraries]. As regards the style and treatment, it is sufficient to say that the authors out-Gallanded Galland, while Heron exaggerates every fault of his original.”
The first enlarged edition of Galland in French was published by Caussin de Perceval, at Paris, in 9 vols., 8vo (1806). In addition to Galland’s version, he added four tales (Nos. 21a, 22, 32 and 37), with which he had been furnished by Von Hammer. He also added a series of tales, derived from Mss. in the Parisian libraries, most of which correspond to those of Cazotte.
The most important of the later French editions was published by E. Gauttier in 7 vols. in 1822; it contains much new matter. At the end, the editor gives a list of all the tales which he includes, with arguments. He has rather oddly distributed his material so as to make only 568 nights. The full contents are given in our Table; the following points require more special notice. Vol. i. Gauttier omits the Third Shaykh’s story (No. 1c) on account of its indecency, although it is really no worse than any other story in The Nights. In the story of the Fisherman, he has fallen into a very curious series of errors. He has misunderstood King Yunan’s reference to King Sindbad (Burton i. p. 50) to refer to the Book of Sindibad (No. 135); and has confounded it with the story of the Forty Vazirs, which he says exists in Arabic as well as in Turkish. Of this latter, therefore, he gives an imperfect version, embedded in the story of King Yunan (No. 2a). Here it may be observed that another imperfect French version of the Forty Vazirs had previously been published by Petis de la Croix under the title of Turkish Tales. A complete German version by Dr. Walter F. A. Behrnauer was published at Leipzig in 1851, and an English version by Mr. E. J. W. Gibb has appeared while these sheets are passing through the press.
Vol. ii. After No. 6 Gauttier places versions of Nos. 32 and 184 by Langlès. The Mock Caliph is here called Aly–Chah. The other three tales given by Caussin de Perceval from Von Hammer’s Mss. are omitted by Gauttier. Vol. v. (after No. 198) concludes with two additional tales (Nos. 207h and 218) from Scott’s version. But the titles are changed, No. 207h being called the Story of the Young Prince and the Green Bird, and No. 218 the Story of Mahmood, although there is another story of Mahmood in vol. 1. (==No. 135m) included as part of the Forty Vazirs.
Vol. vi. includes the Ten Vazirs (No. 174), derived, however, not from the Arabic, but from the Persian Bakhtyar Nameh. Three of the subordinate tales in the Arabic version are wanting in Gauttier’s, and another is transferred to his vol. vii., but he includes one, the King and Queen of Abyssinia (No. 252), which appears to be wanting in the Arabic. The remainder of the volume contains tales from Scott’s version, the title of Mazin of Khorassaun (No. 215) being altered to the Story of Azem and the Queen of the Genii.
Vol. vii. contains a series of tales of which different versions of six only (Nos. 30, 174, 246, 248, 249 and 250) were previously published. Though these have no claim to be considered part of The Nights, they are of sufficient interest to receive a passing mention, especially as Gauttier’s edition seems not to have been consulted by any later writer on The Nights, except Habicht, who based his own edition mainly upon it. Those peculiar to Gauttier’s edition are therefore briefly noticed.
Princess Ameny (No. 253)— A princess who leaves home disguised as a man, and delivers another princess from a black slave. The episode (253b) is a story of enchantment similar to Nos. 1a-c.
Aly Djohary (No. 254)— Story of a young man’s expedition in search of a magical remedy.
The Princes of Cochin China (No. 255)— The princes travel in search of their sister who is married to a Jinni, who is under the curse of Solomon. The second succeeds in breaking the spell, and thus rescues both his brother, his sister, and the Jinni by killing a bird to which the destiny of the last is attached. (This incident is common in fiction; we find it in the genuine Nights in Nos. 154a and 201.)
The Wife with Two Husbands (No. 256)— A well-known Eastern story; it may be found in Wells’ “Mehemet the Kurd,” pp. 121–127, taken from the Forty Vazirs. Compare Gibbs, the 24th Vazir’s Story, pp. 257–266.
The Favourite (No. 257)— One of the ordinary tales of a man smuggled into a royal harem in a chest (compare Nos. 6b and 166).
Zoussouf and the Indian Merchant (No. 258)— Story of a ruined man travelling to regain his fortune.
Prince Benazir (No. 258)— Story of a Prince promised at his birth, and afterwards given up by his parents to an evil Jinni, whom he ultimately destroys. (Such promises, especially, as here, in cases of difficult labour, are extremely common in folk-tales; the idea probably originated in the dedication of a child to the Gods.) Gauttier thinks that this story may have suggested that of Maugraby to Cazotte; but it appears to me rather doubtful whether it is quite elaborate enough for Cazotte to have used it in this manner.
Selim, Sultan of Egypt (No. 261)— This and its subordinate tales chiefly relate to unfaithful wives; that of Adileh (No. 261b) is curious; she is restored to life by Jesus (whom Gauttier, from motives of religious delicacy, turns into a Jinni!) to console her disconsolate husband, and immediately betrays the latter. These tales are apparently from the Forty Vazirs; cf. Gibbs, the 10th Vazir’s Story, pp. 122–129 (= our No. 261) and the Sixth Vazir’s Story, pp. 32–84 (= No. 261b.)
The bulk of the tales in Gauttier’s vol. vii. are derived from posthumous Mss. of M. Langlès, and several have never been published in English. Gauttier’s version of Heycar (No. 248) was contributed by M. Agoub.
The best-known modern German version (Tausend und Eine Nacht, Arabische Erzahlungen, Deutsch von Max. Habicht, Fr. H. von der Hagen und Carl Schall. Breslau, 15 vols. 12mo) is mainly based upon Gauttier’s edition, but with extensive additions, chiefly derived from the Breslau text. An important feature of this version is that it includes translations of the prefaces of the various editions used by the editors, and therefore supplies a good deal of information not always easily accessible elsewhere. There are often brief notes at the end of the volumes.
The fifth edition of Habicht’s version is before me, dated 1840; but the preface to vol. i. is dated 1824, which may be taken to represent the approximate date of its first publication. The following points in the various vols. may be specially noticed:—
Vol. i. commences with the preface of the German editor, setting forth the object and scope of his edition; and the prefaces of Gauttier and Galland follow. No. 1c, omitted by Gauttier, is inserted in its place. Vols. ii. and iii. (No. 133), notes, chiefly from Langlès, are appended to the Voyages of Sindbad; and the destinations of the first six are given as follows:—
Vol. v. contains an unimportant notice from Galland, with additional remarks by the German editors, respecting the division of the work into Nights.
Vol. vi. contains another unimportant preface respecting Nos. 191 and 192.
Vol. x. Here the preface is of more importance, relating to the contents of the volume, and especially to the Ten Vazirs (No. 174).
Vol. xi. contains tales from Scott. The preface contains a full account of his Mss., and the tales published in his vol. vi. This preface is taken partly from Ouseley’s Oriental Collections, and partly from Scott’s own preface.
Vol. xii. contains tales from Gauttier, vol. vii. The preface gives the full contents of Clarke’s and Von Hammer’s Mss.
Vol. xiii. includes Caussin de Perceval’s Preface, the remaining tales from Gauttier’s vol. vii. (ending with Night 568), and four tales from Caussin which Gauttier omits (Nos. 21a, 22, 37 and 202).
Vols. xiv. and xv. (extending from Night 884 to Night 1001) consist of tales from the Breslau edition, to which a short preface, signed by Dr. Max. Habicht, is prefixed. The first of these tales is a fragment of the important Romance of Seyf Zul Yesn (so often referred to by Lane), which seems to have been mixed with Habicht’s Ms. of The Nights by mistake. (Compare Payne, Tales, iii. 243.)
In this fragment we have several incidents resembling The Nights; there is a statue which sounds an alarm when an enemy enters a city (cf. Nos. 59 and 137); Seyf himself is converted to the faith of Abraham, and enters a city where a book written by Japhet is preserved. The text of this story has lately been published; and Sir R. F. Burton informs me that he thinks he has seen a complete version in some European language; but I have not succeeded in obtaining any particulars concerning it.
On account of the interest and importance of the work, I append to this section an English version of the fragment translated into German by Habicht. (From the extreme simplicity of the style, which I have preserved, I suspect that the translation is considerably abridged.)
There is an Icelandic version of The Nights (púsund og ein Nott. Arabiskar Sögur. Kaupmannahöfn, 1857, 4 vols. roy. 8vo), which contains Galland’s tales, and a selection of others, distributed into 1001 Nights, and apparently taken chiefly from Gauttier, but with the addition of two or three which seem to be borrowed from Lane (Nos. 9a, 163, 165, &c.). It is possibly derived immediately from some Danish edition.
There is one popular English version which may fairly be called a composite edition; but it is not based upon Gauttier. This is the “Select Library Edition. Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, selected and revised for general use. To which are added other specimens of Eastern Romance. London: James Burns, 1847. 2 vols.”
It contains the following tales from The Nights: Nos. 134, 3, 133, 162, 1, 2, 155, 191, 193, 192, 194, 194a, 194c, 21, 198, 170, 6.
No. 134 is called the City of Silence, instead of the City of Brass, and is certainly based partly upon Lane. In No. 155, Manar Al Sana is called Nur Al Nissa. One story, “The Wicked Dervise,” is taken from Dow’s “Persian Tales of Inatulla;” another “The Enchanters, or the Story of Misnar,” is taken from the “Tales of the Genii.” Four other tales, “Jalaladdeen of Bagdad,” “The two Talismans,” “The Story of Haschem,” and “Jussof, the Merchant of Balsora,” clearly German imitations, are said to be translated from the German of Grimm, and there are two others, “Abdullah and Balsora,” and “The King and his Servant,” the origin of which I do not recognise, although I think I have read the last before.
Grimm’s story of Haschem concludes with the hero’s promotion to the post of Grand Vizier to Haroun Al–Rashid, in consequence of the desire of the aged “Giafar” to end his days in peaceful retirement! The principal incident in Jalaladdeen, is that of the Old Woman in the Chest, borrowed from the wellknown story of the Merchant Abudah in the “Tales of the Genii,” and it is thus an imitation of an imitation,
In very ancient times, long before the age of Mohammed, there lived a King of Yemen, named Zul Yezn. He was a Himyarite of the race of Fubbaa (Tabbá’) and had large armies and a great capital. His Minister was named Yottreb (Yathrab == Medinat), and was well skilled in the knowledge of the ancients. He once had a vision in which the name of the Prophet was revealed to him, with the announcement of his mission in later times; and he was also informed that he would be the last of the Prophets. In consequence of this vision he believed in the Prophet before his advent; but he concealed his faith. One day the King held a review of his troops, and was delighted with their number and handsome appearance. He said to the Wazir, “Is there any person on earth whose power can compare with mine?” “O yes,” answered the Wazir, “there is King Baal–Beg, whose troops fill the deserts and the cultivated lands, the plains and the valleys.” “I must make war upon him, then,” exclaimed the King, “and destroy his power.” He immediately ordered the army to prepare to march, and after a few days the drums and trumpets were heard. The King and his Wazir set forth in magnificent array, and after a rapid march, they arrived before the holy city Medina, which may God keep in high renown! The Wazir then said to the King, “Here is the holy house of God, and the place of great ceremonies. No one should enter here who is not perfectly pure, and with head and feet bare. Pass around it with your companions, according to the custom of the Arabs.” The King was so pleased with the place that he determined to destroy it, to carry the stones to his own country, and to rebuild it there, that the Arabs might come to him on pilgrimage, a nd that he might thus exalt himself above all Kings. He pondered over this plan all night, but next morning he found his body fearfully swollen. He immediately sent for his Wazir, and lamented over his misfortune. “This is a judgment sent upon you,” replied the Wazir, “by the Lord of this house. If you alter your intention of destroying the temple, you will be healed at once.” The King gave up his project, and soon found himself cured. Soon afterwards he said to himself, “This misfortune happened to me at night, and left me next day of its own accord; but I will certainly destroy the house.” But next morning his face was so covered with open ulcers that he could no longer be recognised. The Wazir then approached him and said, “O King, renounce your intention, for it would be rebellion against the Lord of Heaven and Earth, who can destroy every one who opposes him.” When the King heard this, he reflected awhile and said, “What would you wish me to do?” The Wazir replied, “Cover the house with carpets from Yemen.” The King resolved to do this, and when night came he retired to rest. He then saw an apparition which ordered him not to march further into the country of King Baal–Beg, but to turn towards Abyssinia and Nigritia, adding, “Remain there, and choose it as thy residence, and assuredly one of thy race will arise through whom the threat of Noah shall be fulfilled.” When the King awoke next morning he related this to the Wazir, who advised him to use his own judgment about it. The King immediately gave orders to march. The army set forth, and after ten days they arrived at a country the soil of which seemed to consist of chalk, for it appeared quite white. The Wazir Yottreb then went to the King and requested his permission to found a city here for his people. “Why so?” asked the King. “Because,” replied the Wazir, “this will one day be the place of Refuge of the Prophet Mohammed, who will be sent at the end of time.” The King then gave his consent, and Yottreb immediately summoned architects and surveyors, who dug out the ground, and reared the walls, and erected beautiful palaces. They did not desist from the work until the Wazir ordered a number of his people to remove to this city with their families. This was done, and their posterity inhabit the city to this day. He then gave them a scroll, and said, “He who comes to you as a fugitive to this house will be the ruler of this city.” He then called the city Yottreb after his own name, and the scroll descended from father to son till the Apostle of God arrived as a fugitive from Mecca, when the inhabitants went out to meet him, and presented him with it. They afterwards became his auxiliaries and were known as the Ansar. But we must now return to King Zul Yezn. He marched several days toward Abyssinia, and at last arrived in a beautiful and fertile country where he informed his Wazir that he would like to build a city for his subjects. He gave the necessary orders, which were diligently executed; canals were dug and the surrounding country cultivated; and the city was named Medinat El–Hamra, the Red. At last the news reached the King of Abyssinia, whose name was Saif Ar–Raad (Thunder-sword), and whose capital was called Medinat ad-Durr (the Rich in Houses). Part of this city was built on solid land and the other was built in the sea. This prince could bring an army of 600,000 men into the field, and his authority extended to the extremity of the then known world. When he was informed of the invasion of Zul Yezn, he summoned his two Wazirs, who were named Sikra Divas and Ar–Ryf. The latter was well versed in ancient books, in which he had discovered that God would one day send a Prophet who would be the last of the series. He believed this himself, but concealed it from the Abyssinians, who were still worshippers of Saturn. When the Wazirs came before the King, he said to them,“See how the Arabs are advancing against us; I must fight them.” Sikra Divas opposed this design, fearing lest the threat of Noah should be fulfilled. “I would rather advise you,” said he, “to make the King a present and to send with it the most beautiful maiden in your palace. But give her poison secretly, and instruct her to poison the King when she is alone with him. If he is once dead, his army will retire without a battle.” The King adopted this advice, and prepared rich presents, and summoned a beautiful girl, whose artfulness and malice were well known. Her name was Kamrya (Moonlight). The King said to her, “I have resolved to send you as a present, for a secret object. I will give you poison, and when you are alone with the Prince to whom I will send you, drop it into his cup, and let him take it. As soon as he is dead, his army will leave us in peace.” “Very well, my master,” replied the girl, “I will accomplish your wish.” He then sent her with the other presents and a letter to the city of Zul Yezn. But the Wazir Ar–Ryf had scarcely left the King’s presence when he wrote a letter, and commanded a slave to carry it to Zul Yezn. “If you can give it to him before the arrival of the slave-girl,” added he, “I will give you your freedom.” The slave made all possible haste to the Arab King, but yet the presents arrived before him. A chamberlain went to the King and informed him that a messenger had arrived at the gate with presents from the King of Abyssinia, and requested permission to enter. Zul Yezn immediately ordered that he should be admitted, and the presents and the maiden were at once delivered to him. When he saw her, he was astonished at her beauty, and was greatly delighted. He immediately ordered her to be conveyed to his palace, and was very soon overcome with love for her. He was just about to dissolve the assembly to visit Kamrya, when the Wazir Yottreb detained him, saying, “Delay a while, O King, for I fear there is some treachery hidden behind this present. The Abyssinians hate the Arabs exceedingly, but are unwilling to make war with them, lest the threat of Noah should be fulfilled. It happened one day that Noah was sleeping when intoxicated with wine, and the wind uncovered him. His son Ham laughed, and did not cover him; but his other son Seth (sic) came forward, and covered him up. When Noah awoke, he exclaimed to Ham, ‘May God blacken thy face!’ But to Seth he said, ‘May God make the posterity of thy brother the servants of thine until the day of Resurrection!’ This is the threat which they dread as the posterity of Ham.” While the King was still conversing with his Wazir, the Chamberlain announced the arrival of a messenger with a letter. He was immediately admitted, and delivered the letter, which was read by the Wazir Yottreb. Ar–Ryf had written, “Be on your guard against Kamrya, O King, for she hath poison with her, and is ordered to kill you when she is alone with you.” The King now began loudly to praise the acuteness of his Wazir, and went immediately to Kamrya with his drawn sword. When he entered, she rose and kissed the ground, but he exclaimed, “You have come here to poison me!” She was confounded, and took out the poison, and handed it to the King, full of artifice, and thinking, “If I tell him the truth, he will have a better opinion of me, and if he confides in me, I can kill him in some other manner than with this poison.” It fell out as she expected, for the King loved her, gave her authority over his palace and his female slaves, and found himself very happy in her possession. But she herself found her life so pleasant that, although King Ar–Raad frequently sent to ask her why she had not fulfilled her commission, she always answered, “Wait a little; I am seeking an opportunity, for the King is very suspicious.” Some time passed over, and at length she became pregnant. Six months afterwards Zul Yezn fell ill; and as his sickness increased, he assembled the chief men of his Court, informed them of the condition of Kamrya, and after commending her to their protection, he ordered that if she bore a son, he should succeed him. They promised to fulfil his commands, and a few days afterwards Zul Yezn died. Kamrya now governed the country, till she brought forth a son. He was a child of uncommon beauty, and had a small mole on his cheek. When she saw the child she envied him, and said to herself, “What, shall he take away the kingdom from me? No, it shall never be;” and from this time forward she determined to put him to death. After forty days, the people requested to see their King. She showed him to them, and seated him on the throne of the kingdom, whereupon they did homage to him, and then dispersed. His mother took him back into the Palace, but her envy increased so much that she had already grasped a sword to kill him, when her nurse entered and asked what she was going to do. “I am about to kill him,” answered she. “Have you not reflected,” said the nurse, “that if you kill him the people will revolt, and may kill you also?” “Let me kill him,” persisted she, “for even should they kill me, too, I should at least be released from my envy.” “Do not act thus,” warned the nurse, “or you may repent it, when repentance cannot help you.” “It must be done,” said Kamrya. “Nay, then,” said the nurse, “if it cannot be avoided, let him at least be cast into the desert, and if he lives, so much the better for him; but if he dies, you are rid of him for ever.” She followed this advice and set out on the way at night time with the child, and halted at a distance of four days’ journey, when she sat down under a tree in the desert. She took him on her lap, and suckled him once more, and then laid him on a bed, putting a purse under his head, containing a thousand gold pieces and many jewels. “Whoever finds him,” said she, “may use the money to bring him up;” and thus she left him.
It happened by the gracious decree of God, that hunters who were chasing gazelles surprised a female with a fawn; the former took to flight, and the hunters carried off the little one. When the mother returned from the pasture, and found her fawn gone, she traversed the desert in all directions in search of it, and at length the crying of the deserted child attracted her. She lay down by the child, and the child sucked her. The gazelle left him again to go to graze, but always returned to the little one when she was satisfied. This went on till it pleased God that she should fall into the net of a hunter. But she became enraged, tore the net, and fled. The hunter pursued her, and overtook her when she reached the child, and was about to give him suck. But the arrival of the hunter compelled the gazelle to take to flight, and the child began to cry, because he was not yet satisfied. The hunter was astonished at the sight, and when he lifted the child up, he saw the purse under his head, and a string of jewels round his neck. He immediately took the child with him, and went to a town belonging to an Abyssinian king named Afrakh, who was a dependent of King Saif Ar–Raad. He handed over the child to him, saying that he had found it in the lair of a gazelle. When the King took the child into his care, it smiled at him, and God awakened a feeling of love towards him in the King’s heart; and he then noticed the mole on his cheek. But when his Wazir Sikar Diun, the brother of Sikar Divas, who was Wazir to King Saif Ar–Raad, entered and saw the child, God filled his heart with hate towards him. “Do not believe what this man told you,” he said, when the King told him the wonderful story of the discovery, “it can only be the child of a mother who has come by it wrongly, and has abandoned it in the desert, and it would be better to kill it.” “I cannot easily consent to this,” said the King. But he had hardly spoken, when the palace was filled with sounds of rejoicing, and he was informed that his wife had just been safely delivered of a child. On this news he took the boy on his arm, and went to his wife, and found that the new-born child was a girl, and that she had a red mole on her cheek. He wondered when he saw this, and said to Sikar Diun, “See how beautiful they are!” But when the Wazir saw it, he slapped his face, and cast his cap on the ground, exclaiming, “Should these two moles unite, I prophesy the downfall of Abyssinia, for they presage a great calamity. It would be better to kill either the boy or your daughter.” “I will kill neither of them,” replied the King, “for they have been guilty of no crime.” He immediately provided nurses for the two children, naming his daughter Shama (Mole) and the boy Wakhs1 El Fellat (Lonely one, or Desert); and he reared them in separate apartments, that they might not see each other. When they were ten years old, Wakhs El Fellat grew very strong, and soon became a practised horseman, and surpassed all his companions in this accomplishment, and in feats of arms. But when he was fifteen, he was so superior to all others, that Sikar Diun threatened the King that he would warn King Saif Ar–Raad that he was nurturing his enemy in his house, if he did not immediately banish him from the country; and this threat caused King Afrakh great alarm. It happened that he had a general, who was called Gharag El Shaker (Tree-splitter), because he was accustomed to hurl his javelin at trees, and thus to cleave them asunder. He had a fortress three days’ journey from the town; and the King said to him, “Take Wakhs El Fellat to your castle, and never let him return to this neighbourhood.” He added privately, “Look well after him and preserve him from all injury, and have him instructed in all accomplishments.” The general withdrew, and took the boy with him to his castle, and instructed him thoroughly in all accomplishments and sciences. One day he said to him, “One warlike exercise is still unknown to you.” “What is that?” said Wakhs El Fellat. “Come and see for yourself,” replied he. The general then took him to a place where several trees were growing, which were so thick that a man could not embrace the trunk. He then took his javelin, hurled it at one of them, and split the trunk. Wakhs El Fellat then asked for the javelin, and performed the same feat, to the astonishment of his instructor. “Woe to thee!” exclaimed he, “for I perceive that you are the man through whom the threat of Noah will be fulfilled against us. Fly, and never let yourself be seen again in our country, or I will kill you.” Wakhs El Fellat then left the town, not knowing where to go. He subsisted for three days on the plants of the earth, and at last he arrived at a town encircled by high walls, the gates of which were closed. The inhabitants were clothed in black, and uttered cries of lamentation. In the foreground he saw a bridal tent, and a tent of mourning. This was the city of King Afrakh who had reared him, and the cause of the mourning of the inhabitants was as follows. Sikar Diun was very angry that the King had refused to follow his advice, and put the boy to death, and had left the town to visit one of his friends, who was a magician, to whom he related the whole story. “What do you propose to do now?” asked the magician. “I will attempt to bring about a separation between him and his daughter,” said the Wazir. “I will assist you,” was the answer of the magician. He immediately made the necessary preparations, and summoned an evil Jinni named Mukhtatif (Ravisher) who inquired, “What do you require of me?” “Go quickly to the city of King Afrakh, and contrive that the inhabitants shall leave it.” In that age men had intercourse with the more powerful Jinn, and each attained their ends by means of the other. The Jinn did not withdraw themselves till after the advent of the Prophet. The magician continued, “When the inhabitants have left the city, they will ask you what you want. Then say, ‘Bring me out Shama, the daughter of your King, adorned with all her jewels, and I will come to-morrow and carry her away. But if you refuse, I will destroy your city, and destroy you all together.’” When Mukhtatif heard the words of this priest of magic, he did as he was commanded, and rushed to the city. When Sikar Diun saw this, he returned to King Afrakh to see what would happen; but he had scarcely arrived when the voice of Mukhtatif resounded above the city. The inhabitants went to the King, and said, “You have heard what is commanded, and if you do not yield willingly, you will be obliged to do so by force.” The King then went weeping to the mother of the Princess, and informed her of the calamity. She could scarcely contain herself for despair, and all in the palace wept at parting from the Princess. Meantime Shama was richly attired, torn from her parents, and hurried to the bridal tent before the town, to he carried away by the evil Jinni. The inhabitants were all assembled on the walls of the city, weeping. It was just at this moment that Wakhs El Fellat arrived from the desert, and entered the tent to see what was going on. When King Afrakh, who was also on the wall, saw him, he cried out to him, but he did not listen, and dismounted, fastened his horse to a tent-stake, and entered. Here he beheld a maiden of extraordinary beauty and perfection, but she was weeping. While he was completely bewildered by her beauty, she was no less struck by his appearance. “Who art thou?” said the maiden to him. “Tell me rather who art thou?” returned he. “I am Shama, the daughter of King Afrakh.” “Thou art Shama?” he exclaimed, “and I am Wakhs El Fellat, who was reared by thy father.” When they were thus acquainted, they sat down together to talk over their affairs, and she took this opportunity of telling him what had passed with the Jinni, and how he was coming to carry her away. “O, you shall see how I will deal with him,” answered he, but at this moment the evil Jinni approached, and his wings darkened the sun. The inhabitants uttered a terrible cry, and the Jinni darted upon the tent, and was about to raise it when he saw a man there, talking to the daughter of the King. “Woe to thee, O son of earth,” he exclaimed, “what authority have you to sit by my betrothed?” When Wakhs El Fellat saw the terrible form of the Jinni, a shudder came over him, and he cried to God for aid. He immediately drew his sword, and struck at the Jinni, who had just extended his right hand to seize him, and the blow was so violent that it struck off the hand. “What, you would kill me?” exclaimed Mukhtatif, and he took up his hand, put it under his arm, and flew away. Upon this there was a loud cry of joy from the walls of the city. The gates were thrown open, and King Afrakh approached, companied by a crowd of people with musical instruments, playing joyful music; and Wakhs El Fellat was invested with robes of honour; but when Sikar Diun saw it it was gall to him. The King prepared an apartment expressly for Wakhs El Fellat, and while Shama returned to her palace, he gave a great feast in honour of her deliverance from the fiend. After seven days had passed, Shama went to Wakhs El Fellat, and said to him, “Ask me of my father tomorrow, for you have rescued me, and he will not be able to refuse you.” He consented very willingly, and went to the King early next morning. The King gave him a very favourable reception, and seated him with him on the throne; but Wakhs El Fellat had not courage to prefer his suit, and left him after a short interview. He had not long returned to his own room, when Shama entered, saluted him, and asked, “Why did you not demand me?” “I was too bashful,” he replied. “Lay this feeling aside,” returned she, “and demand me.” “Well, I will certainly do so to-morrow,” answered he. Thereupon she left him, and returned to her own apartment. Early next morning Wakhs El Fellat went again to the King, who gave him a friendly reception, and made him sit with him. But he was still unable to prefer his suit, and returned to his own room. Soon after Shama came to him and said, “How long is this bashfulness to last? Take courage, and if not, request some one else to speak for you.” She then left him, and next morning he repeated his visit to the King. “What is your request?” asked the latter. “I am come as a suitor,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “and ask the hand of your noble daughter Shama.” When Sikar Diun heard this, he slapped his face. “What is the matter with you?” asked the King. “This is what I have foreseen,” answered he, “for if these two moles unite, the destruction of Abyssinia is accomplished.” “How can I refuse him?” replied the King, “when he has just delivered her from the fiend.” “Tell him,” answered Sikar Diun, “that you must consult with your Wazir.” The King then turned to Wakhs El Fellat, and said, “My son, your request is granted as far as I am concerned, but I leave my Wazir to arrange it with you, so you must consult him about it.” Wakhs El Fellat immediately turned to the Wazir, and repeated his request to him. Sikar Diun answered him in a friendly manner. “The affair is as good as arranged, no one else is suited for the King’s daughter, but you know that the daughters of the Kings require a dowry.” “Ask what you please,” returned Wakhs El Fellat. “We do not ask you for money or money’s worth,” said the Wazir, “but for the head of a man named Sudun, the Ethiopian.” “Where can I find him?” said the prince. The Wazir replied, “He is said to dwell in the fortress of Reg, three days’ journey from here.” “But what if I fail to bring the head of Sudun?” asked he. “But you will have it,” returned the Wazir; and after this understanding the audience ceased, and each returned to his dwelling.
Now this Sudun had built his fortress on the summit of a high hill. It was very secure, and he defended it with the edge of the sword. It was his usual resort, from whence he sallied forth on plundering expeditions, and rendered the roads unsafe. At length the news of him reached King Saif Ar–Raad, who sent against him three thousand men, but he routed and destroyed them all. Upon this, the King sent a larger number against him, who experienced the same fate. He then despatched a third army, upon which Sudun fortified himself afresh, and reared the walls of his fortress so high that an eagle could scarcely pass them. We will now return to Shama, who went to Wakhs El Fellat, and reproached him with the conditions he had agreed to, and added, “It would be better for you to leave this place, and take me with you, and we will put ourselves under the protection of some powerful king.” “God forbid,” replied he, “that I should take you with me in so dishonourable a manner.” As he still positively refused to consent, she grew angry, and left him. Wakhs El Fellat lay down to rest, but he could not sleep. So he rose up, mounted his horse, and rode away at midnight; and in the morning he met a horseman who stationed himself in his path, but who was so completely armed that his face was concealed. When Wakhs El Fellat saw him, he cried to him, “Who are you, and where are you going?” But instead of replying, he pressed upon him, and aimed a blow which Wakhs El Fellat successfully parried. A fight then commenced between them, which lasted till nearly evening. At last the difference in their strength became perceptible, and Wakhs El Fellat struck his adversary so violent a blow with his javelin that his horse fell to the ground. He then dismounted, and was about to slay him, when the horseman cried to him, “Do not kill me, O brave warrior, or you will repent when repentance will no more avail you.” “Tell me who you are?” returned Wakhs El Fellat. “I am Shama, the daughter of King Afrakh,” replied the horseman. “Why have you acted thus?” asked he. “I wished to try whether you would be able to hold your own against Sudun’s people,” she replied. “I have tried you now, and found you so valiant that I fear no longer on your account. Take me with you, O hero.” “God forbid that I should do so,” he returned; “what would Sikar Diun and the others say? They would say that if Shama had not been with him, he would never have been able to prevail against Sudun.” She then raised her eyes to heaven, and said, “O God, permit him to fall into some danger from which I alone may deliver him!” Upon this Wakhs El Fellat pursued his journey, without giving any attention to her words. On the third day he arrived at the valley where the fortress of Sudun was situated, when he began to work his way along behind the trees; and towards evening he arrived at the fortress itself, which he found to be surrounded with a moat; and the gates were closed. He was still undecided what course to take, when he heard the sound of an approaching caravan; and he hid himself in the fosse of the fortress to watch it. He then saw that it was driven forward by a large body of men, and that the merchants were bound on their mules. When they arrived at the castle, they knocked at the gate; and when the troop entered, Wakhs El Fellat entered with them; and they unloaded the goods and bound the prisoners without noticing him. When the armed men had finished their work, they ascended to the castle, but he remained below. After a time, he wished to follow them, but when he trod on the first step, it gave way under him, and a dagger flew out, which struck him in the groin. Upon this his eyes filled with tears, and he already looked upon his destruction as certain, when a form came towards him from the entrance of the castle, to deliver him; and as it drew nearer, he perceived that it was Shama. He was filled with astonishment, and cried out, “God has heard your prayer! How did you come here?” “I followed your traces,” she replied, “till you entered the castle, when I imitated your example, and mingled with the troops. I have now saved your life, although you have refused to take me with you; but if you wish to advance further, do not neglect to try whether each step is fixed, with the point of your sword.” He now again began to ascend, feeling the way before him, and Shama followed, till they arrived at the last stair, when they saw that the staircase ended in a revolving wheel. “Spring higher,” advised Shama, “for I see a javelin which magic art has placed here.” They sprang over it, and pursued their way till they reached a large anteroom, lighted by a high cupola. They stopped here awhile, and examined everything carefully. At last they approached the door of a room, and on looking through the crevices, they saw about a hundred armed negroes, among whom was a black slave who looked as savage as a lion. The room was lighted by wax candles, placed on gold and silver candlesticks. At this moment, the black said, “Slaves, what have you done with the prisoners belonging to the caravan?” “We have chained them in the prison below, and left them in the safest place,” was the reply. But he continued, “If one of them was carelessly bound, he might be able to release himself and the others, and to gain possession of the stairs. Let one of you therefore go down, examine them carefully, and tighten their bonds.” One of them therefore came out, and the two strangers hid themselves in the anteroom. When he had passed them, Wakhs El Fellat stepped forward and pierced him through with his sword; Shama dragged his body aside, and they both remained quiet for a time. But as the slave remained away from his companions too long, Sudun exclaimed, “Go and see why he does not return, for I have been in great alarm ever since we entered the castle to-day.” A second then rose and took his sword, and as he came into the anteroom, Wakhs El Fellat clove him in twain at one blow and Shama dragged his body also on one side. They again waited quietly for a time, when Sudun said, “It seems as if hunters are watching our slaves, and are killing them one after another.” A third then hastened out, and Wakhs El Fellat struck him such a blow that he fell dead to the ground, and Shama dragged him also away. But as he likewise remained absent so long, Sudun himself stood up and all the others with him, and he said, “Did I not warn and caution you? There is a singing in my ears, and my heart trembles, for there must be people here who are watching our men.” He himself now came out, and the others followed him with lights and holding their hands on their swords, when one of the foremost suddenly stopped. “Why do you not advance!” cried the others. “How shall I go forward,” said he, “when he who has slain our friends stands before us.” This answer was repeated to Sudun when he called on them in a voice of thunder to advance. When he heard this, he forced his way through them till he perceived Wakhs El Fellat. “Who are you, Satan?” cried he, “and who brought you here?” “I came here,” replied he, “to cut off your head, and destroy your memory.” “Have you any blood-feud against me?” asked Sudun, “or any offence to revenge upon me?” “I have no enmity against you in my heart,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “and you have never injured me; but I have asked Shama in marriage of her father, and he has demanded of me your head as a condition. Be on your guard, that you may not say I acted foully towards you.” “Madman,” cried Sudun, “I challenge you to a duel. Will you fight inside or outside the fortress?” “I leave that to you,” returned Wakhs El Fellat. “Well, then, await me here,” was the reply. Sudun then went in, clothed himself in gilded armour, girt on a saw-like sword, and came out holding a shining club in his hand. He was so enraged that he knew not what to say, and at once attacked Wakhs El Fellat, who threw himself on his adversary like a raging lion, and they fought together like hungry wolves; but both despaired of victory. The swords spake a hard language on the shields, and each of the combatants wished that he had never been born. When this desperate fight had lasted a long time, Shama was greatly troubled lest Sudun should prove victorious. So she seized a dagger and struck at Sudun, wounding the nerves of his hand, so that he dropped his sword, while she exclaimed to Wakhs El Fellat, “Make an end of him.” “No,” replied Wakhs El Fellat, “I will make him my prisoner, for he is a brave and valiant man.” “With whom are you speaking?” asked Sudun. “With Shama,” answered he. “What,” said Sudun, “did she come with you?” “Yes,” replied he. “Then let her come before me.” She came forward, and Sudun said, “Is the world too narrow for your father that he could demand nothing as your dowry but my head?” “This was his desire,” answered she. Wakhs El Fellat then said, “Take your sword and defend yourself, for I will not fight with you, now that it has fallen out of your hand.” But Sudun replied, “I will not fight with you, for I am wounded, so take my head, and go in peace with your bride.” He then sat down and bowed his head. “If you speak truly,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “separate yourself from your people.” “Why so?” “Because I fear lest they may surround me, and compel me to fight with them, and there is no need for me to shed their blood.” Sudun then left the castle, bowed his head, and said, “Finish your work.” But Wakhs El Fellat said, “If you speak truth, come with me across the fosse of the castle into the open ground.” He did so, carefully barring the castle behind him, and said, “Now take my head.”
When the slaves saw this, they mounted the walls, and wept and lamented. But Shama cried out, “Take his head, and let us hasten our return before morning dawns.” “What,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “should I kill so brave a man in so treacherous a manner, when he is so noble and magnanimous?” He then went up to Sudun, kissed his head, and said, “Rise up, O warrior of the age, for you and your companions are safe from me.” They now all embraced each other, and made an offensive and defensive compact. “Take me with you alive, O brave man,” said Sudun, “and hand me over to the King as his daughter’s dowry. If he consents, well; but if not, take my head, and woo your wife.” “God forbid,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “that I should act thus after your magnanimity. Rather return to the castle, and assure your companions of your safety.” All this passed under the eyes of the other armed men. They rejoiced at the knightly conduct of both, and now came down, fell at the feet of Sudun and embraced him. They then did the same to Wakhs El Fellat, whose hands they kissed and loaded him with praises. After this, they all returned to the castle, and agreed to set out presently. They took with them whatever treasures there were, and Wakhs El Fellat commanded them to release the prisoners and restore them their goods. They now all mounted their horses and journeyed to the country of King Afrakh, greatly rejoiced at the mutual love of the warriors. When they approached the town, Shama parted from them, that nothing should be known of her absence in the company. During this time, King Afrakh and Sikar Diun had amused themselves with hunting, jesting, and sporting, and sent out scouts daily to look for Wakhs El Fellat. “What can have become of him?” said the King once to Sikar Diun. “Sudun has certainly killed him,” replied the latter, “and you will never see him again.” While they were thus talking, they observed a great cloud of dust, and as it drew nearer, they could see the armed men more distinctly. The company was led by a black knight, by whose side rode a younger white horseman. When the King saw this, he exclaimed, “Wakhs El Fellat has returned, in company with Sudun and his host.” “Wait a little,” replied Sikar Dian, “till we are certain of it.” But when they drew nearer, and they could doubt no longer, Sikar Diun mounted his horse and fled, accompanied by the King and his followers, till they reached the town, and barred the gates. They then watched from the walls, to see what would happen. When they saw that the strangers dismounted and pitched tents, the King thought it was a good sign. He therefore ordered the town to be decorated, and the gates to be opened, and rode out, attended by a considerable escort, and approached the tents. The other party now mounted their horses to go to meet them. When they approached each other, King Afrakh was about to dismount, but Wakhs El Fellat would not allow it, and the King embraced him, and congratulated him on his safety. He then saluted Sudun also, but the latter did not return his salutation. He invited him to enter the town, but he declined, as did Wakhs El Fellat likewise, who did not wish to part from his companions. The King returned accompanied only by his own people, and prepared the best reception for the new-comers. On the following morning the King held a general council, at which Sikar Diun appeared greatly depressed. “Did I not warn you beforehand,” said he to the King, “what you now see for yourself of this evil-doer? Did we not send him to bring the head of Sudun, and he returns with him safe and sound, and on the best of terms, while our hearts are oppressed with anxiety?” “You may be right,” replied the King, “but what are we to do now?”
This conversation was interrupted by a tumult caused by the arrival of Wakhs El Fellat and Sudun, who came to pay their respects to the King. The King invited them to sit down, but Sudun remained standing, and when he asked him again, he replied, “You craven, was the world too narrow for you that you desired my head as your daughter’s dowry?” “Sit down,” said the King, “for I know that you are angry.” “How can I sit down,” returned Sudun, “when you have ordered my death?” “God forbid that I should act so unjustly,” said the King; “it was Sikar Diun.” “What,” said he, “do you accuse me of such an action in my presence?” “Did you not make this condition with Wakhs El Fellat,” said the King, “and send him on his errand?” Sikar Diun then turned to Sudun, and said, “Sit down, brave warrior, for we only did so from love to you, that we might be able to make a treaty with you, and that you might join our company.” After this answer, Sudun concealed his anger, and sat down. Refreshments were now brought in, and after partaking of them, Wakhs El Fellat and Sudun returned to their tents. Several days passed in this manner, and at length Sudun said to Wakhs El Fellat, “O my master, it is time for you to demand Shama in marriage, now you have won her with the edge of the sword. You have fulfilled their conditions long since by bringing them my head, but you have made no further progress at present. Ask for her once more, and if they will not give her up, I will fall upon them with the sword, and we will carry Shama off, and then lay waste the city.” “I will demand her as my wife again to-morrow,” replied the other. When he went to the palace next day, he found the King and all the court assembled. When they saw him, they all rose from their seats, and when they sat down again, he alone remained standing. “Why do you not sit down,” said the King, “for all your wishes are now fulfilled?” “I have still to ask for Shama,” he replied. “You know,” returned the King, “that ever since her birth I have allowed Sikar Diun to make all arrangements for her.” He now turned to Sikar Diun, who replied in a friendly tone, “She is yours, for you have fulfilled the conditions, and you have only now to give her ornaments.” “What kind of ornaments?” asked he. “Instead of ornaments,” replied the traitor, “we desire to receive a book containing the history of the Nile. If you bring it us, she is wholly yours, but if not, there is no marriage to be thought of.” “Where is it to be found?” “I cannot tell you myself.” “Well, then,” returned Wakhs El Fellat, “if I do not bring you the book, Shama is lost to me; all present are witnesses to this.” He went out with these words, pushing his way through the crowded assembly, and Sudun behind him, till they reached their tents. “Why did you promise that,” said Sudun, “let us rather overcome them with the sword, and take Shama from them.” “Not so,” replied Wakhs El Fellat, “I will only possess her honourably.” “And yet you do not even know how to find the book,” said Sudun; “rather listen to my advice, retire to my fortress, and leave me in their power.” “I would never act thus,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “though I should suffer death.” After these and similar speeches, supper was brought in, and each retired to his sleeping apartment. But Wakhs El Fellat had scarcely entered his room when Shama came in. “What have you done,” said she, “and what engagement have you undertaken? How can you fulfil this condition? Do you not see that their only object is to destroy you, or at least to get rid of you? I have come to warn you again, and I say to you once more, take me with you to Sudun’s castle, where we can live at peace, and do not act as they tell you.” “I will carry out my engagement,” he replied; “I will not possess you like a coward, even though I should be cut to pieces with swords.” Upon this, Shama was angry and left him, while he lay down to rest, but could not sleep. He therefore rose up, saddled and mounted his horse and rode away, without knowing where, abandoning himself wholly to the will of God. He wandered about thus for several days, until he reached a lonely tower. He knocked at the door, and a voice answered, “Welcome, O thou who hast separated thyself from thy companions; enter without fear, O brave Saif, son of Zul Yezn.” When he pushed the door it opened, and his eyes beheld a noble and venerable old man, from whose appearance it was at once obvious that he busied himself with the strictest life and fear of God. “Welcome,” cried he again; “if you had travelled from east to West you would have found no one who could show you how to obtain the book you seek as well as I can, for I have dwelt here awaiting your arrival for sixty years.” “But that was before I was born,” said Wakhs El Fellat to himself. He then asked aloud, “By what name did you address me just now?” “O Saif,” answered the old man, “that is your true name, for you are a sword (Saíf) to the Abyssinians; but whom do you worship?” “O my master,” was the reply, “the Abyssinians worship Saturn (Sukhal) but I am in perplexity, and know not whom to worship.” “My son,” replied the old man, “worship Him who has reared the heavens over us without pillars, and who has rested the earth on water; the only and eternal God, the Lord who is only and alone to be reverenced. I worship Him and none other beside him, for I follow the religion of Abraham.” “What is your name?” asked Wakhs El Fellat. “I am called Shaikh Gyat.” “What declaration must I make,” he asked the old man, “to embrace your religion?” “Say ‘There is no God but God, and Abraham is the Friend of God.’ If you make this profession, you will be numbered among the believers.” He at once repeated the formula, and Shaikh Gyat was much pleased, and devoted the night to teaching him the history of Abraham and his religion, and the forms of worship. Towards morning he said, “O my son, whenever you advance to battle, say, ‘God is great, grant me victory, O God, and destroy the infidels,’ and help will be near you. Now pursue your journey, but leave your horse here until your return. Enter the valley before you, under the protection of God, and after three days you will meet some one who will aid you.” Wakhs El Fellat set out on that road, and after three days he met a horseman who saluted him, and exclaimed, “Welcome, Saif Zul Yezn, for you bring happiness to this neighbourhood.” Saif returned his salutation, and asked, “How do you know me, and how do you know my name?” “I am not a brave or renowned warrior,” was the answer, “but one of the maidens of this country and my mother taught me your name.” “What is your name and that of your mother?” “My mother’s name is Alka,” answered she, “and I am called Taka.” When he heard this he was greatly rejoiced, for he remembered that Shaikh Gyat had said to him, “O thou, whose destiny will be decided by Alka and Taka.” “O noble virgin,” said he, “where is your mother, Alka?” “Look round,” she replied; and he saw a very large and lofty city at some distance. “Know,” said she, “that 360 experienced philosophers dwell in that city. My mother Alka is their superior, and directs all their affairs and actions. She knew that you would come to this neighbourhood in search of a book concerning the Nile, which was written by Japhet, the son of Noah, and she wishes you to attain your end by her means. She also informed me of your coming, and promised me to you, saying, ‘You shall have no other husband but him.’ We expected you to-day, and she sent me to meet you, adding, ‘Warn him not to enter the town by daylight, or it will be his destruction.’ Wait here, therefore, till nightfall, and only approach the city after dark. Turn to the right along the wall, and stand still when you reach the third tower, where we will await you. As soon as we see you we will throw you a rope; bind it round your waist, and we will draw you up. The rest will be easy.” “But why need you give yourselves all this trouble?” said Saif Zul Yezn. “Know,” replied she, “that the inhabitants of this city have been informed of your approaching arrival by their books, and are aware that you are about to carry away their book, which they hold in superstitious reverence. On the first day of each month they repair to the building where it is preserved; and they adore it and seek counsel from it respecting their affairs. They have also a king whose name is Kamrun. When they knew that you were coming for the book they constructed a talisman against you. They have made a copper statue, and fixed a brazen horn in its hand, and have stationed it at the gate of the city. If you enter, the statue will sound the horn, and it will only do so upon your arrival. They would then seize you and put you to death. On this account we desire to baffle their wisdom by drawing you up to the walls of the city at another place.” “May God reward you a thousandfold,” replied he; “but go now, and announce my arrival to your mother.” She went away, and he approached the city in the darkness of night, and turned towards the third tower on the right, where he found Alka and Taka. When they recognised him, they immediately threw him the rope, which he fastened about him. When he was drawn up, they descended from the wall, and were about to proceed to Alka’s house, when the talisman suddenly acted, and the statue blew the horn loudly. “Hasten to our house,” cried Alka; and they succeeded in reaching it safely and barred the doors, when the noise increased. The whole population of the city rose up, and the streets were filled. “What is this disturbance about?” asked Saif. “This is all due,” replied Alka, “to the alarm sounded by the statue, because you have entered the town. There will be a great meeting held to-morrow, where all the wise men will assemble, to attempt to discover the whereabouts of the intruder; but by God’s help, I will guide them wrong, and confuse their counsels. Go to our neighbour the fisherman,” added she to her daughter, “and see what he has caught.” She went, and brought news that he had taken a large fish, of the size of a man. “Take this piece of gold,” said her mother, “and bring us the fish;” and when she did so, she told her to clean it, which was done. Food was then brought in, and they ate and talked. The night passed quietly, but on the following morning Alka ordered Saif Zul Yezn to undress, and to hide in the skin of the fish. She put her mouth to the mouth of the fish, and took a long rope, which she fastened under Saif’s armpits. She then let him down into a deep well, and fastened him there, saying, “Remain here, till I come back.” She then left him, and went to the great hall of the King, where the divan was already assembled, and the King had taken his seat on the throne. All rose up when she entered, and when she had seated herself, the King said to her, “O mother, did you not hear the blast of the horn yesterday, and why did you not come out with us?” “I did hear it,” she replied, “but I did not heed it.” “But you know,” said he, “that the sound can only be heard upon the arrival of the stranger who desires to take the book.” “I know it, O King; but permit me to choose forty men from among those assembled here.” She did so, and selected ten from among the forty again. She then said to them, “Take a Trakhtramml (sandboard on which the Arabs practise geomancy and notation) and look and search.” They did so, but had scarcely finished when they looked at each other in amazement. They destroyed their calculation, and began a second, and confused this, too, and began a third, upon which they became quite confounded. “What are you doing there?” asked the King at last. “You go on working and obliterating your work; what have you discovered?” “O King,” replied they, “we find that the stranger has entered the town, but not by any gate. He appears to have passed in between Heaven and earth, like a bird. After this, a fish swallowed him, and carried him down into some dark water.” “Are you fools?” asked the King angrily; and turning to Alka, continued, “Have you ever seen a man flying between Heaven and earth, and afterwards swallowed by a fish, which descends with him into dark water?” “O King,” replied she, “I always forbid the wise men to eat heavy food, for it disturbs their understanding and weakens their penetration; but they will not heed me.” At this the King was angry, and immediately drove them from the hall. But Alka said, “It will be plain to-morrow what has happened.” She left the hall, and when she reached home, she drew Saif Zul Yezn out of the well, and he dressed himself again. They sat down, and Alka said, “I have succeeded in confounding their deliberations to-day! and there will be a great assembly to-morrow, when I must hide you in a still more out-of-the-way place.” After this they supped, and went to rest. Next morning Alka called her daughter, and said, “Bring me the gazelle.” When it was brought her, she said, “Bring me the wings of an eagle.” Taka gave them to her, and she bound them on the back of the gazelle. She then took a pair of compasses, which she fixed in the ceiling of the room. She next took two other pairs of compasses, which she fixed in the ceiling of the room. She next took two other pairs of compasses, and tied one between the fore feet, and the other between the hind feet of the gazelle. She then tied a rope to the compasses in the roof, and the two ends to the other pairs. But she made Saif Zul Yezn lie down in such a position that his head was between the feet of the gazelle. She then said to him, “Remain here till I come back”; and went to the King, with whom she found a very numerous assemblage of the wise men. As soon as she entered, the King made her sit beside him on the throne. “O my mother Alka,” he said, “I could not close an eye last night from anxiety concerning yesterday’s events.” “Have you no wise men,” returned she, “who eat the bread of the divan?” She then turned to them, saying, “Select the wisest among you!” and they chose the wisest among them. She ordered them to take the sandboard again, but they became so confused that they were obliged to begin again three times from the beginning. “What do you discover?” said the King angrily. “O our master,” replied they, “he whom we seek has been carried away by a beast of the desert, which is flying with him between Heaven and earth.” “How is this?” said the King to Alka; “have you ever seen anything like it?” He seized his sword in a rage, and three fled, and he killed four of the others. When Alka went home, she released Saif, and told him what had happened. Next morning Alka took the gazelle, and slaughtered it in a copper kettle. She then took a golden mortar, and reversed it over it, and said to Saif Zul Yezn, “Sit on this mortar till I come back.” She then went to the divan, and chose out six wise men, who again took the sandboard, and began again three times over in confusion. “Alas,” said the King, in anger, “What misfortune do you perceive?” “O our master,” they exclaimed in consternation, “our understanding is confused, for we see him sitting on a golden mountain, which is in the midst of a sea of blood, surrounded by a copper wall.” The King was enraged, and broke up the assembly, saying, “O Alka, I will now depend on you alone.” “To-morrow I will attempt to show you the stranger,” she replied. When she came home, she related to Saif what had happened, and said, “I shall know by to-morrow what to tell the King to engage his attention, and prevent him from pursuing you.” Next morning she found Taka speaking to Saif Zul Yezn alone; and she asked her, “What does he wish?” “Mother,” replied Taka, “he wishes to go to the King’s palace, to see him and the divan.” “What you wish shall be done,” said she to Saif, “but you must not speak.” He assented to the condition, and she dressed him as her attendant, gave him a sandboard, and went with him to the King, who said to her, “I could not sleep at all last night, for thinking of the stranger for whom we are seeking.” “Now that the affair is in my hands,” returned she, “you will find me a sufficient protection against him.” She immediately ordered Saif to give her the sandboard. She took it, and when she had made her calculations, she said joyfully to the King, “O my lord, I can give you the welcome news of the flight of the stranger, owing to his dread of you and your revenge.” When the King heard this, he rent his clothes, slapped his face, and said, “He would not have departed, without having taken the book.” “I cannot see if he has taken anything,” replied she. “This is the first of the month,” said the King, “come and let us see if it is missing.” He then went with a large company to the building where the book was kept. Alka turned away from the King for a moment to say to Saif, “Do not enter with us, for if you enter, the case will open of itself, and the book will fall into your hands. This would at once betray you, and you would be seized and put to death, and all my labour would have been in vain.” She then left him, and rejoined the King. When they reached the building, the doors were opened, and when the King entered, they found the book. They immediately paid it the customary honours, and protracted this species of worship, while Saif stood at the door, debating with himself whether to enter or not. At last his impatience overcame him, and he entered, and at the same instant the casket was broken to pieces, and the book fell out. The King then ordered all to stand up, and the book rolled to Saif Zul Yezn. Upon this all drew their swords, and rushed upon him. Saif drew his sword also, and cried “God is great!” as Shaikh Gyat had taught him. He continued to fight and defend himself, and struggled to reach the door. The entire town arose in tumult to pursue him, when he stumbled over a dead body, and was seized. “Let me not see his face,” cried the King, “but throw him into the mine.” This mine was eighty yards deep, and had not been opened for sixty years. It was closed by a heavy leaden cover, which they replaced, after they had loaded him with chains, and thrown him in. Saif sat there in the darkness, greatly troubled, and lamenting his condition to Him who never sleeps. Suddenly, a side wall of the mine opened, and a figure came forth which approached and called him by his name. “Who are you?” asked Saif. “I am a woman named Akissa, and inhabit the mountain where the Nile rises. We are a nation who hold the faith of Abraham. A very pious man lives below us in a beautiful palace. But an evil Jinni named Mukhtatif lived near us also, who loved me, and demanded me in marriage of my father. He consented from fear, but I was unwilling to marry an evil being who was a worshipper of fire. ‘How can you promise me in marriage to an infidel?’ said I to my father. ‘I shall thereby escape his malice myself,’ replied he. I went out and wept, and complained to the pious man about the affair. ‘Do you know who will kill him?’ said he to me, and I answered, ‘No.’ ‘I will direct you to him who has cut off his hand,’ said he. ‘His name is Saif Zul Yezn, and he is now in the city of King Kamrun, in the mine.’ Thereupon he brought me to you, and I come as you see me, to guide you to my country, that you may kill Mukhtatif, and free the earth from his wickedness.” She then moved him, and shook him, and all his chains fell off. She lifted him on her shoulders, and carried him to the palace of the Shaikh, who was named Abbas Salam. Here he heard a voice crying, “Enter, Saif Zul Yezn.” He did so, and found a grave and venerable old man, who gave him a very friendly reception, saying, “Wait till to-morrow, when Akissa will come to guide you to the castle of Mukhtatif.” He remained with him for the night, and when Akissa arrived next morning, the old man told her to hasten, that the world might be soon rid of the monster. They then left this venerable man, and when they had walked awhile, Akissa said to Saif, “Look before you.” He did so, and perceived a black mass at some distance. “This is the castle of the evil-doer,” said she, “but I cannot advance a step further than this.” Saif therefore pursued his way alone, and when he came near the castle, he walked round it to look for the entrance. As he was noticing the extraordinary height of the castle, which was founded on the earth, but appeared to overtop the clouds, he saw a window open, and several people looked out, who pointed at him with their fingers, exclaiming, “That is he, that is he!” They threw him a rope, which they directed him to bind round him. They drew him up by it, when he found himself in the presence of three hundred and sixty damsels, who saluted him by his name.
(Here Habicht’s fragment ends.)
In 1800, Jonathan Scott, LL.D., published a volume of “Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters, translated from the Arabic and Persian,” based upon a fragmentary Ms., procured by J. Anderson in Bengal, which included the commencement of the work (Nos. 1–3) in 29 Nights; two tales not divided into Nights (Nos. 264 and 135) and No. 21.
Scott’s work includes these two new tales (since republished by Kirby and Clouston), with the addition of various anecedotes, &c., derived from other sources. The “Story of the Labourer and the Chair” has points of resemblance to that of “Malek and the Princess Chirine” (Shirin?) in the Thousand and One Days; and also to that of “Tuhfet El Culoub” (No. 183a) in the Breslau Edition. The additional tales in this Ms. and vol. of translations are marked “A” under Scott in our Tables. Scott published the following specimens (text and translation) in Ouseley’s Oriental Collections (1797 and following years) No. 135m (i. pp. 245–257) and Introduction (ii. pp. 160–172; 228–257). The contents are fully given in Ouseley, vol. ii. pp. 34, 35.
Scott afterwards acquired an approximately complete Ms. in 7 vols., written in 1764 which was brought from Turkey by E. Wortley Montague. Scott published a table of contents (Ouseley, ii. pp. 25–34), in which, however, the titles of some few of the shorter tales, which he afterwards translated from it, are omitted, while the titles of others are differently translated. Thus “Greece” of the Table becomes “Yemen” in the translation; and “labourer” becomes “sharper.” As a specimen, he subsequently printed the text and translation of No. 145 (Ouseley, ii. pp. 349–367).
This Ms., which differs very much from all others known, is now in the Bodleian Library at Oxford.
In 1811, Scott published an edition of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, in 6 vols., vol. 1 containing a long introduction, and vol. 6, including a series of new tales from the Oxford Ms. (There is a small paper edition; and also a large paper edition, the latter with frontispieces, and an Appendix including a table of the tales contained in the Ms.) It had originally been Scott’s intention to retranslate the Ms.; but he appears to have found it beyond his powers. He therefore contented himself with re-editing Galland, altering little except the spelling of the names, and saying that Galland’s version is in the main so correct that it would be useless repetition to go over the work afresh. Although he says that he found many of the tales both immoral and puerile, he translated most of those near the beginning, and omitted much more (including several harmless and interesting tales, such as No. 152) towards the end of his Ms. than near the beginning. The greater part of Scott’s additional tales, published in vol. 6, are included in the composite French and German editions of Gauttier and Habicht; but, except Nos. 208, 209, and 215, republished in my “New Arabian Nights,” they have not been reprinted in England, being omitted in all the many popular versions which are professedly based upon Scott, even in the edition in 4 vols., published in 1882, which reprints Scott’s Preface.
The edition of 1882 was published about the same time as one of the latest reissues of Lane’s Thousand and One Nights; and the Saturday Review of Nov. 4, 1882 (p. 609), published an article on the Arabian Nights, containing the following amusing passage: “Then Jonathan Scott, LL.D. Oxon, assures the world that he intended to retranslate the tales given by Galland; but he found Galland so adequate on the whole that he gave up the idea, and now reprints Galland, with etchings by M. Lalauze, giving a French view of Arab life. Why Jonathan Scott, LL.D., should have thought to better Galland, while Mr. Lane’s version is in existence, and has just been reprinted, it is impossible to say.”
The most interesting of Scott’s additional tales, with reference to ordinary editions of The Nights, are as follows:—
No. 204b is a variant of No. 37.
No. 204c is a variant of 3e, in which the wife, instead of the husband, acts the part of a jealous tyrant. (Compare Cazotte’s story of Halechalbe.)
No. 204e. Here we have a reference to the Nesnás, which only appears once in the ordinary versions of The Nights (No. 132b; Burton, v., p. 333).
No. 206b. is a variant of No. 156.
No. 207c. This relates to a bird similar to that in the Jealous Sisters (No. 198), and includes a variant of 3ba.
No. 207h. Another story of enchanted birds. The prince who seeks them encounters an “Oone” under similar circumstances to those under which Princess Parizade (No. 198) encounters the old durwesh. The description is hardly that of a Marid, with which I imagine the Ons are wrongly identified.
No. 208 contains the nucleus of the famous story of Aladdin (No. 193).
No. 209 is similar to No. 162; but we have again the well incident of No. 3ba, and the exposure of the children as in No. 198.
No. 215. Very similar to Hasan of Bassorah (No. 155). As Sir R. F. Burton (vol. viii., p. 60, note) has called in question my identification of the Islands of WákWák with the Aru Islands near New Guinea, I will quote here the passages from Mr. A. R. Wallace’s Malay Archipelago (chap. 31) on which I based it:—“The trees frequented by the birds are very lofty. . . . . One day I got under a tree where a number of the Great Paradise birds were assembled, but they were high up in the thickest of the foliage, and flying and jumping about so continually that I could get no good view of them. . . . . Their voice is most extraordinary. At early morn, before the sun has risen, we hear a loud cry of ‘Wawk — wawk — wawk, w k — w k — w k,’ which resounds through the forest, changing its direction continually. This is the Great Bird of Paradise going to seek his breakfast. . . . . The birds had now commenced what the people here call ‘sacaleli,’ or dancing-parties, in certain trees in the forest, which are not fruit-trees as I at first imagined, but which have an immense head of spreading branches and large but scattered leaves, giving a clear space for the birds to play and exhibit their plumes. On one of these trees a dozen or twenty full-plumaged male birds assemble together, raise up their wings, stretch out their necks, and elevate their exquisite plumes, keeping them in a continual vibration. Between whiles they fly across from branch to branch in great excitement, so that the whole tree is filled with waving plumes in every variety of attitude and motion.”
No. 216bc appears to be nearly the same as No. 42.
No. 225 is a variant of No. 135q.
The only approximately complete original German translation is “Tausend und eine Nacht. Arabische Erzählungen. Zum Erstenmale aus dem Urtexte vollständig und treu übersetzt von Dr. Gustav Weil,” four vols., Stuttgart. The first edition was in roy. 8vo, and was published at Stuttgart and Pforzheim in 1839–1842; the last volume I have not seen; it is wanting in the copy in the British Museum. This edition is divided into Nights, and includes No. 25b. In the later editions, which are in small square 8vo, but profusely illustrated, like the larger one, this story is omitted (except No. 135m, which the French editors include with it), though Galland’s doubtful stories are retained; and there is no division into Nights. The work has been reprinted several times, and the edition quoted in our Table is described as “Zweiter Abdruck der dritten vollstandig umgearbeiteten, mit Anmerkungen und mit einer Einleitung versehenen Auflage” (1872).
Weil has not stated from what sources he drew his work, except that No. 201 is taken from a Ms. in the Ducal Library at Gotha. This is unfortunate, as his version of the great transformation scene in No. 3b (Burton, vol. i., pp. 134, 135), agrees more closely with Galland than with any other original version. In other passages, as when speaking of the punishment of Aziz (No. 9a, aa), Weil seems to have borrowed an expression from Lane, who writes “a cruel wound;” Weil saying “a severe (schwere) wound.”
Whereas Weil gives the only German version known to me of No. 9 (though considerably abridged) he omits many tales contained in Zinserling and Habicht, but whether because his own work was already too bulky, or because his original Mss. did not contain them, I do not know; probably the first supposition is correct, for in any case it was open to him to have translated them from the printed texts, to which he refers in his Preface.
Two important stories (Nos. 200 and 201) are not found in any other version; but as they are translated in my “New Arabian Nights,” I need not discuss them here. I will, however, quote a passage from the story of Judar and Mahmood, which I omitted because it is not required by the context, and because I thought it a little out of place in a book published in a juvenile series. It is interesting from its analogy to the story of Semele.
When King Kashuk (a Jinni) is about to marry the daughter of King Shamkoor, we read (New Arabian Nights, p. 182), “Shamkoor immediately summoned my father, and said, ‘Take my daughter, for you have won her heart.’ He immediately provided an outfit for his daughter, and when it was completed, my father and his bride rode away on horseback, while the trousseau of the Princess followed on three hundred camels.” The passage proceeds (the narrator being Daruma, the offspring of the marriage), “When my father had returned home, and was desirous of celebrating his marriage Kandarin (his Wazir) said to him, ‘Your wife will be destroyed if you touch her, for you are created of fire, and she is created of earth, which the fire devours. You will then bewail her death when it is too late. To-morrow,’ continued he, ‘I will bring you an ointment with which you must rub both her and yourself; and you may then live long and happily together.’ On the following day he brought him a white ointment, and my father anointed himself and his bride with it, and consummated his marriage without danger.”
I may add that this is the only omission of the smallest consequence in my rendering of either story.
I have heard from more than one source that a complete German translation of The Nights was published, and suppressed; but I have not been able to discover the name of the author, the date, or any other particulars relating to the subject.
Several complete copies of The Nights were obtained by Europeans about the close of the last or the beginning of the present century; and one of these (in 4 vols.) fell into the bands of the great German Orientalist, Joseph von Hammer. This Ms. agrees closely with the printed Bul. and Mac. texts, as well as with Dr. Clarke’s Ms., though the names of the tales sometimes vary a little. One story, “The two Wazirs,” given in Von Hammer’s list as inedited, no doubt by an oversight, is evidently No. 7, which bears a similar title in Torrens. One title, “Al Kavi,” a story which Von Hammer says was published in “Mag. Encycl.,” and in English (probably by Scott in Ouseley’s Oriental Collections, vide anteà p. 491) puzzled me for some time; but from its position, and the title I think I have identified it as No. 145, and have entered it as such. No. 9a in this as well as in several other Mss., bears the title of the Two Lovers, or of the Lover and the Beloved.
Von Hammer made a French translation of the unpublished tales, which he lent to Caussin de Perceval, who extracted from it four tales only (Nos. 21a, 22, 32 and 37), and only acknowledged his obligations in a general way to a distinguished Orientalist, whose name he pointedly suppressed. Von Hammer, naturally indignant, reclaimed his Ms., and had it translated into German by Zinserling. He then sent the French Ms. to De Sacy, in whose hands it remained for some time, although he does not appear to have made any use of it, when it was despatched to England for publication; but the courier lost it on the journey, and it was never recovered.
Zinserling’s translation was published under the title, “Der Tausend und einen Nacht noch nicht übersetzte Mährchen, Erzählungen und Anekdoten, zum erstenmale aus dem Arabischen in’s Französische übersetzt von Joseph von Hammer, und aus dem Französischen in’s Deutsche von Aug. E. Zinserling, Professor.” (3 vols., Stuttgart and Tübingen, 1823.) The introductory matter is of considerable importance, and includes notices of 12 different Mss., and a list of contents of Von Hammer’s Ms. The tales begin with No. 23, Nos. 9–19 being omitted, because Von Hammer was informed that they were about to be published in France. (This possibly refers to Asselan Riche’s “Scharkan,” published in 1829.) The tales and anecdotes in this edition follow the order of The Nights. No. 163 is incomplete, Zinserling giving only the commencement; and two other tales (Nos. 132b and 168) are related in such a confused manner as to be unintelligible, the former from transposition (perhaps in the sheets of the original Ms.) and the latter from errors and omissions. On the other hand, some of the tales (No. 137 for instance) are comparatively full and accurate.
A selection from the longer tales was published in English in 3 vols. in 1826, under the title of “New Arabian Nights Entertainments, selected from the original Oriental Ms. by Jos. von Hammer, and now first translated into English by the Rev. George Lamb.” I have only to remark that No. 132b is here detached from its connection with No. 132, and is given an independent existence.
A complete French re-translation of Zinserling’s work, also in 3 vols., by G. S. Trébutien (Contes inédits des Mille et une Nuits), was published in Paris in 1828; but in this edition the long tales are placed first, and all the anecdotes are placed together last.
The various Mss. mentioned by Von Hammer are as follows:—
Galland’s Ms. in Paris.
Another Paris Ms., containing 870 Nights. (No. 9 is specially noticed as occurring in it.) This seems to be the same as a Ms. subsequently mentioned by Von Hammer as consulted by Habicht.
Scott’s Ms. (Wortley Montague).
Scott’s Ms. (Anderson).
Dr. Russell’s Ms. from Aleppo (224 Nights).
Sir W. Jones’ Ms., from which Richardson extracted No. 6ee for his grammar.
A. Ms. at Vienna (200 Nights).
Ms. in Italinski’s collection.
Clarke’s Ms.
An Egyptian Ms. at Marseilles.
Von Hammer’s Ms.
Habicht’s Ms. (==Bres. text).
Caussin’s Ms.
De Sacy’s Ms.
One or more Mss. in the Vatican.
These are noticed by Sir R. F. Burton in his “Foreword” (vol. i., pp. x-xii.) and consequently can be passed over with a brief mention here.
Torrens’ edition (vol. 1) extends to the end of Night 50 (Burton, ii., p. 118).
Lane’s translation originally appeared in monthly half-crown parts, from 1839 to 1841. It is obvious that he felt himself terribly restricted in space; for the third volume, although much thicker than the others, is not only almost destitute of notes towards the end, but the author is compelled to grasp at every excuse to omit tales, even excluding No. 168, which he himself considered “one of the most entertaining tales in the work” (chap. xxix., note 12), on account of its resemblance to Nos. 1b and 3d. Part of the matter in Lane’s own earlier notes is apparently derived from No. 132a, which he probably did not at first intend to omit. Sir R. F. Burton has taken 5 vols. to cover the same ground which Lane has squeezed into his vol. 3. But it is only fair to Lane to remark that in such cases the publisher is usually far more to blame than the author.
In 1847 appeared a popular edition of Lane, entitled, “The Thousand and One Nights, or the Arabian Nights Entertainments, translated and arranged for family reading, with explanatory notes. Second edition.” Here Galland’s old spelling is restored, and the “explanatory notes,” ostentatiously mentioned on the title page, are entirely omitted. This edition was in 3 vols. I have seen a copy dated 1850; and think I have heard of an issue in 1 vol.; and there is an American reprint in 2 vols. The English issue was ultimately withdrawn from circulation in consequence of Lane’s protests. (Mr. S. L. Poole’s Life of E. W. Lane, p. 95.) It contains the woodcut of the Flying Couch, which is wanting in the later editions of the genuine work; but not Galland’s doubtful tales, as Poole asserts.
Several editions of the original work, edited by Messrs. E. S. and S. L. Poole, have appeared at intervals from 1859 to 1882. They differ little from the original edition except in their slightly smaller size.
The short tales included in Lane’s notes were published separately as one of Knight’s Weekly Volumes, in 1845, under the title of “Arabian Tales and Anecdotes, being a selection from the notes to the new translation of the Thousand and One Nights, by E. W. Lane, Esq.”
Finally, in 1883, Mr. Stanley Lane Poole published a classified and arranged edition of Lane’s notes under the title of “Arabian Society in the Middle Ages.”
Mr. John Payne’s version of the Mac. edition was issued in 9 vols. by the Villon Society to subscribers only. It appeared from 1882 to 1884, and only 500 copies were printed. Judging from the original prospectus, it seems to have been the author’s intention to have completed the work in 8 vols., and to have devoted vol. 9 to Galland’s doubtful tales; but as they are omitted, he must have found that the work ran to a greater length than he had anticipated, and that space failed him. He published some preliminary papers on the Nights in the New Quarterly Magazine for January and April, 1879.
Mr. Payne subsequently issued “Tales from the Arabic of the Breslau and Calcutta (1814–18) editions of the Thousand Nights and One Night, not occurring in the other printed texts of the work.” (Three vols., London, 1884.) Of this work, issued, like the other, by the Villon Society, to subscribers only, 750 copies were printed, besides 50 on large paper. The third volume includes indices of all the tales in the four principal printed texts.
Finally we have Sir R. F. Burton’s translation now in its entirety before his subscribers. It is restricted to 1,000 copies. (Why not 1,001?) The five supplementary vols. are to include tales wanting in the Mac. edition, but found in other texts (printed and Ms.), while Lady Burton’s popular edition will allow of the free circulation of Sir R. F. Burton’s work among all classes of the reading public.
There are many volumes of selections derived from Galland, but these hardly require mention; the following may be noticed as derived from other sources:
1. Caliphs and Sultans, being tales omitted in the usual editions of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. Re-written and re-arranged by Sylvanus Hanley, F. L. S., etc., London, 1868; 2nd edition 1870.
Consists of portions of tales chiefly selected from Scott, Lamb, Chavis and Cazotte, Trébutien and Lane; much abridged, and frequently strung together, as follows:—
Nos. 246, 41, 32 (including Nos. 111, 21a, and 89); 9a (including 9aa [which Hanley seems, by the way, to have borrowed from some version which I do not recognise], 22 and 248); 155, 156, 136, 162; Xailoun the Silly (from Cazotte); 132 and 132a; and 169 (including 134 and 135x).
2. Ilâm-en-Nâs. Historical tales and anecdotes of the time of the early Kalîfahs. Translated from the Arabic and annotated by Mrs. Godfrey Clerk, author of “The Antipodes, and Round the World.” London, 1873.
Many of these anecdotes, as is candidly admitted by the authoress in her Preface, are found with variations in the Nights, though not translated by her from this source.
3. The New Arabian Nights. Select tales not included by Galland or Lane. By W. F. Kirby, London, 1882.
Includes the following tales, slightly abridged, from Weil and Scott: Nos. 200, 201, 264, 215, 209, and 208.
Two editions have appeared in England, besides reprints in America and Australia.
6e (ee). — The Barber’s Fifth Brother.
Mr. W. A. Clouston (in litt.) calls attention to the version of this story by Addison in the “Spectator,” No. 535, Nov. 13, 1712, after Galland. There is good reason to suppose that this is subsequent to the first English edition, which, however, Addison does not mention. There is also an English version in Faris’ little Arabic Grammar (London, 1856), and likewise in Richardson’s Arabic Grammar. The latter author extracted it from a Ms. belonging to Sir W. Jones.
5. — Nur Al-din and Badr Al-din Hasan.
There are two Paris editions of the “Histoire de Chems–Eddine et de NourEddine,” edited by Prof. Cherbonneau. The first (1852) contains text and notes, and the second (1869) includes text, vocabulary and translations.
7. — Nur Al-din and Anis Al-jalis.
An edition by Kasimiraki of “Enis’ el-Djelis, ou histoire de la belle Persane,” appeared in Paris in 1867. It includes text, translation and notes.
9. — King Omar Bin Al-nu’aman.
There is a French abridgment of this story entitled, “Scharkan, Conte Arabe, suivi de quelques anecdotes orientales; traduit par M. Asselan Riche, Membre de la Société Asiatique de Paris” (Paris and Marseilles, 12mo, 1829, pp. 240). The seven anecdotes appended are as follows: (1) the well-known story of Omar’s prisoner and the glass of water; (2) Elhedjadj and a young Arab; (3)=our No. 140; (4) Anecdote of Elhedjadj and a story-teller; (5)=our No. 86; (6) King Bahman and the Moubed’s parable of the Owls; (7)=our No. 145.
133. — Sindbad the Seaman.
This is the proper place to call attention to a work specially relating to this story, “Remarks on the Arabian Nights Entertainments; in which the origin of Sindbad’s Voyages and other Oriental Fictions is particularly described. By Richard Hole, LL.D.” (London, 1797, pp. iv. 259.)
It is an old book, but may still be consulted with advantage.
There are two important critical editions of No. 133, one in French and one in German.
Les Voyages de Sind-bâd le marin et la ruse des Femmes. Contes arabes. Traduction littérale, accompagnée du Texte et des Notes. Par L. Langlès (Paris, 1814).
The second story is our No. 184.
Die beiden Sindbad oder Reiseabenteuer Sindbads des Seefabrers. Nach einer zum ersten Male in Europa bedruckten Aegyptischen Handschrift unmittelbar und wortlich treu aus den Arabischen übersetzt und mit erklärenden Anmerkungen, nebst zwei sprachlichen Beilagen zum Gebrauch für abgehende Orientalisten herausgegeben von J. G. H. Reinsch (Breslau, 1826).
135. — The Craft and Malice of Women.
The literature of this cluster of tales would require a volume in itself, and I cannot do better than refer to Mr. W. A. Clouston’s “Book of Sindibad” (8vo, Glasgow, 1884) for further information. This book, though privately printed and limited to 300 copies, is not uncommon.
136. — Judar and His Brethren.
An edition of this story, entitled “Histoire de Djouder le Pêcheur,” edited by Prof. Houdas, was published in the Bibliothèque Algérienne, at Algiers, in 1865. It includes text and vocabulary.
174. — The Ten Wazirs.
This collection of tales has also been frequently reprinted separately. It is the Arabic version of the Persian Bakhtyar Nameh, of which Mr. Clouston issued a privately-printed edition in 1883.
The following versions have come under my notice:—
1. Nouveaux Contes Arabes, ou Supplement aux Mille et une Nuits suivies de Mélanges de Littérature orientale et de lettres, par l’Abbe (Paris, 1788, pp. 425).
This work consists chiefly of a series of tales selected and adapted from the Ten Vazirs. “Written in Europe by a European, and its interest is found in the Terminal Essay, on the Mythologia Aesopica” (Burton in litt.).
2. Historien om de ti Vezirer og hoorledes det gik dem med Kong Azád Bachts Sön, oversat af Arabisk ved R. Rask (8vo, Kobenhavn, 1829).
3. Habicht, x. p. vi., refers to the following:— Historia decem Vezirorum et filii regis Azad–Bacht insertis XIII. aliis narrationibus, in usum tironum Cahirensem, edid. G. Knös, Göttingen, 1807, 8vo.
He also states that Knös published the commencement in 1805, in his “Disquisitio de fide Herodoti, quo perhibet Phoenices Africam navibus circumvectos esse cum recentiorum super hac re sententiis excussis. — Adnexurn est specimen sermonis Arabici vulgaris s. initium historiae filii regis Azad–Bacht e Codice inedito.”
4. Contes Arabes. Histoire des dix Vizirs (Bakhtyar Nameh) Traduite et annotée par René Basset, Professeur A l’école superieure des lettres d’Algérie. Paris, 1883.
Chavis and Cazotte (anteà pp. 471, 472) included a version of the Ten Vazirs in their work; and others are referred to in our Table of Tales.
248. — The Wise Heycar.
Subsequently to the publication of Gauttier’s edition of The Nights, Agoub republished his translation under the title of “Le sage Heycar, conte Arabe” (Paris, 1824).
A few tales published by Scott in Ouseley’s Oriental Collections have already been noticed (anteà, pp. 434, 435).
1. Les Mille et Un Jours. Contes Persanes.
“In imitation of the Arabian Nights, was composed a Persian collection entitled ‘Hazár Yek Rúz or the Thousand and One Days,’ of which Petis de la Croix published a French rendering [in 1710], which was done into English [by Dr. King, and published in 2 vols. (with the Turkish Tales=Forty Vezirs) as early as 1714; and subsequently] by Ambrose Phillips” (in 1738) (Clouston, in litt). Here, and occasionally elsewhere, I have quoted from some Mss. notes on The Nights by Mr. W. A. Clouston, which Sir R. F. Burton kindly permitted me to inspect. Mr. Clouston then quotes Cazotte’s Preface (not in my edition of the Thousand and One Days), according to which the book was written by the celebrated Dervis Moclès (Mukhlis), chief of the Sofis (Sufis?) of lspahan, founded upon certain Indian comedies. Petis de la Croix was on friendly terms with Mukhlis, who allowed him to take a copy of his work in 1675, during his residence in Ispahan. (I find these statements confirmed in the Cabinet des Fées, xxxvii. pp. 266, 274, 278, and in Weber’s “Tales of the East,” i. pp. xxxvi., xxxxii.)
The framework of the story is the same as Nos. 9a and 152: a Princess, who conceives an aversion to men from dreaming of the self-devotion of a doe, and the indifference and selfishness of a stag. Mr. Clouston refers to Nakhshabí‘s Tútí Náma (No. 33 of Káderí‘s abridgment, and 39 of India Office Ms. 2,573 whence he thinks it probable that Mukhlis may have taken the tale.) But the tale itself is repeated over and over again in many Arabic, Persian, and Turkish collections; in fact, there are few of commoner occurrence.
The tales are told by the nurse in order to overcome the aversion of the Princess to men. They are as follows:
This work has many times been reprinted in France, where it holds a place only second to The Nights.
Sir R. F. Burton remarks, concerning the Persian and Turkish Tales of Petis de la Crois (the latter of which form part of the Forty Vazirs, No. 251), “Both are weak and servile imitations of Galland by an Orientalist who knew nothing of the East. In one passage in the story of Fadlallah, we read of ‘Le Sacrifice du Mont Arafáte,’ which seems to have become a fixture in the European brain. I found the work easy writing and exceedingly hard reading.”
The following tales require a passing notice:—
1. Story of Aboulcassem Bafry. — A story of concealed treasure; it has also some resemblance to No. 31.
2. Ruzvanchad and Cheheristani. — Cheheristani is a jinniyah, who is pursued by the King, under the form of a white doe; marries him, and becomes the mother of Balkis, the Queen of Sheba. She exacts a promise from him never to rebuke her for any of her actions: he breaks it, and she leaves him for a time.
2a. The Young King of Thibet. — Two imposters obtain magic rings by which they can assume the shapes of other persons.
2a, b. The Vazir Cavercha. — This is one of Scott’s stories (No. 223 of our Table). It goes back at least as far as the Ring of Polycrates. It is the 8th Vezir’s Story in Mr. Gibbs’ Forty Vezirs (pp. 200–205).
4. Prince Calaf. — This story is well known, and is sometimes played as a comedy. The Princess Turandot puts riddles to her suitors, and beheads them if they fail to answer.
5b. Story of Prince Seyj-el-Molouk. — This story is perhaps an older version than that which appears in The Nights (No. 154a). It is placed long after the time of Solomon; Saad is devoured by ants (Weber (ii. p. 426) has substituted wild beasts!); and when Seyf enters the palace of Malika (=Daulet Khatoon), the jinni surprises them, and is overpowered by Seyf’s ring. He then informs him of the death of Saad; and that Bedy al-Jernal was one of the mistresses of Solomon; and has also long been dead.
5b. Malek and Chirine. — Resembles No. 264; Malek passes himself off as the Prophet Mohammed; burns his box (not chair) with fireworks on his weddingday, and is thus prevented from ever returning to the Princess.
5f. Adventures of Aboulfawaris. — Romantic travels, resembling Nos. 132a and 133.
2. Antar. — This is the most famous of the Badawi romances. It resembles No. 137 in several particulars, but is destitute of supernaturalism. An English abridgment in 4 vols. was published in 1820; and the substance of vol. 1 had appeared, as a fragment, in the previous year, under the title of “Antar, a Bedoueen Romance translated from the Arabic by Terrick Hamilton, Esq., Oriental Secretary to the British Embassy at Constantinople.” I have also seen vol. 1 of a French translation, published about 1862, and extending to the death of Shas.
Lane (Modern Egyptians, ch. 21–23) describes several other Arab romances, which have not yet been translated; viz. Aboo–Zeyd; Ez-Zahir, and Delhemeh.
3. Glaive-des-Couronnes (Seif el-Tidjân) Roman traduit de l’Arabe. Par M. le Dr. Perron (Paris, 1862).
A romantic story of Arab chivalry, less overloaded with supernaturalism than No. 137; but more supernatural than Antar. The hero marries (among other wives) two jinniyahs of the posterity of Iblis. In ch. 21 we have an account of a magical city much resembling the City of Brass (No. 134) and defended by similar talismans.
4. Mehemet the Kurd, and other tales, from Eastern sources, by Charles Wells, Turkish Prizeman of King’s College, London, and Member of the Royal Asiatic Society (London, 1865).
The first story, taken from an Arabic Ms., is a narrative of a handsome simpleminded man, with whom Princesses fall in love, and who is raised to a mighty throne by their enchantments. Some of the early incidents are not unlike those in the well-known German story of Lucky Hans (Hans im Glück). In one place there is an enchanted garden, where Princesses disport themselves in feather-dresses (as in No. 155, &c.), and where magic apples grow. (Note that apples are always held in extraordinary estimation in The Nights, cf. Nos. 4 and 264.) Among the shorter stories we find No. 251h; a version of Nos. 9a and 152 (probably that referred to by Mr. Clouston as in the Tuti Nama); a story “The Prince Tailor,” resembling No. 251; No. 256, and one or two other tales not connected with The Nights. (Most of Wells’ shorter tales are evidently taken from the Forty Vezirs.)
5. Recueil Des Contes Populaires de la Kabylie du Djardjara, recueillis et traduits par J. Rivière (Paris, 1882). I have not seen this book; but it can hardly fail to illustrate The Nights.
6. The Story of Jewad, Romance by ‘Ali ‘Aziz Efendi the Cretan. Translated from the Turkish by E. J. W. Gibb, M.R.A.S., &c. (Glasgow, 1884).
A modern Turkish work, written in A. H. 1211 (1796–97). It contains the following tales:—
The Story of Jew d.
1. The Story of Eb —‘Ali–Sin;.
2. The Story of Monia Em n.
3. The Story of Ferah-N z, the daughter of the King of China.
a. The Story of Khoja ‘Abdu-llah.
4. The Story told by Jew d to Iklilu’l Mulk.
a. The Story of Sh b r and Hum.
c. The Story of Ghazanfer and R hila.
5. The Story of Qara Khan.
The following deserve notice from our present point of view:—
The Story of Jewad. — Here we have magical illusions, as in Nos. 247 and 251a. Such narratives are common in the East; Lane (Nights, ch. i., note 15) is inclined to attribute such illusions to the influence of drugs; but the narratives seem rather to point to so-called electro-biology, or the Scotch Glamour (such influences, as is notorious, acting far more strongly upon Orientals than upon Europeans).
2. The Story of Monia Em n corresponds to the Story of Naerdan and Guzulbec, in Caylus’ Oriental Tales. A story of magical illusions.
3. The Story of Ferah N z. — Here again we have a variant of Nos. 9a and 152.
3a. Khoja ‘Abdu-ltab. — This is a version of the Story of Aboulcassem in the Thousand and One Days.
4a. Sh b r and Hum. — The commencement of this story might have suggested to Southey the adventures of Thalaba and Oneida in the Gardens of Aloadin; the remainder appears to be taken from the Story of the young King of Thibet, in the Thousand and One Days.
5. Qara Khan. — The principal part of this story is borrowed from the First Voyage of Aboulfawaris in the Thousand and One Days; it has some resemblance to the story of the Mountain of Loadstone in No. 3c.
7. Früchte des Asiatischen Geist, von A. T. Hartmann. 2 vols., 12mo (Münster) 1803. A collection of anecdotes, &c., from various Eastern sources, Arabic, Indian, &c. I think it not impossible that this may be the work referred to by Von Hammer in the preface to Zinserling’s “1001 Nacht” (p. xxvii. note) as “Asiatische Perleuschnur von Hartmann.” At least I have not yet met with any work to which the scanty indication would apply better.
8. Tuti-Nama. I could hardly pass over the famous Persian and Turkish “Parrot–Book” quite without notice; but its tales have rarely any direct connection with those in The Nights, and I have not attempted to go into its very extensive bibliography.
Dr. Edward Daniel Clarke has given an account of an important Ms. nearly agreeing with Bul. and Mac., which he purchased in Egypt, in his “Travels in various countries of Europe, Asia and Africa.” Part ii. Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land. Section i. (1812) App. iii., pp. 701–704. Unfortunately, this Ms. was afterwards so damaged by water during a shipwreck that it was rendered totally illegible. The list of tales (as will be seen by the numbers in brackets, which correspond to our Table, as far as the identifications are safe) will show the approximate contents of the Ms., but the list (which is translated into German by Habicht in the preface to his vol. 12) was evidently compiled carelessly by a person nearly ignorant of Arabic, perhaps with the aid of an interpreter, Maltese, or other, and seems to abound with the most absurd mistakes. The full text of Clarke’s App. iii. is as follows: “List of One Hundred and Seventy-two Tales, contained in a manuscript copy of the ‘Àlif Lila va Lilin,’ or ‘Arabian Nights,’ as it was procured by the Author in Egypt.”
N.B. — The Arabic words mentioned in this list are given as they appeared to be pronounced in English characters, and of course, therefore, adapted to English pronunciation.
The number of tales amounts to 172, but one tale is supposed to occupy many nights in the recital, so that the whole number is divided into “One Thousand and One Nights.” It rarely happens that any two copies of the Alif Lila va Lilin resemble each other. This title is bestowed upon any collection of Eastern tales divided into the same number of parts. The compilation depends upon the taste, the caprice, and the opportunities of the scribe, or the commands of his employer. Certain popular stories are common to almost all copies of the Arabian Nights, but almost every collection contains some tales which are not found in every other. Much depends upon the locality of the scribe. The popular stories of Egypt will be found to differ materially from those of Constantinople. A nephew of the late Wortley Montague, living in Rosetta, had a copy of the Arabian Nights, and upon comparing the two manuscripts it appeared that out of the 172 tales here enumerated only 37 were found in his manuscript. In order to mark, therefore, the stories which were common to the two manuscripts, an asterisk has been prefixed to the thirty-seven tales which appeared in both copies.
The success of Galland’s work led to the appearance of numerous works more or less resembling it, chiefly in England and France. Similar imitations, though now less numerous, have continued to appear down to the present day.
The most important of the older works of this class were published in French in the “Cabinet des Fées” (Amsterdam and Geneva, 1785–1793; 41 vols.); in English in “Tales of the East: comprising the most popular Romances of Oriental origin, and the best imitations by European authors, with new translations and additional tales never before published, to which is prefixed an introductory dissertation, containing an account of each work and of its author or translator. By Henry Weber, Esq.” (Edinburgh, 1812, 3 vols.); and in German in “Tausand und ein Tag. Morgenländische Erzählungen aus dem Persisch, Turkisch und Arabisch, nach Petis de la Croix, Galland, Cardonne, Chavis und Cazotte, dem Grafen Caylus, und Anderer. Übersetzt von F. H. von der Hagen” (Prenzlau, 1827–1837, 11 vols.). In the “Cabinet des Fées” I find a reference to an older collection of tales (partly Oriental) called the “Bibliothèque des Fées et des Génies,” by the Abbé de la Porte, which I have not seen, but which is, in part, incorporated in the “Cabinet.” It formed only 2 vols. 12mo, and was published in 1765.
The examination of these tales is difficult, for they comprise several classes, not always clearly defined:—
Most of the tales belonging to Class 7 and some of those belonging to Class 6 have been treated of in previous sections. The remaining tales and imitations will generally need only a very brief notice; sometimes only the title and the indication of the class to which they belong. We will begin with an enumeration of the Oriental contents of the Cabinet des Fées, adding W. i., ii. and iii. to show which are included in Weber’s “Tales of the East”:—
(Weber also includes, in his vol. ii. Nos. 21a, 22, 32 and 37, after Caussin de Perceval.)
12, 13. The Adventures of Abdallah, the Son of Hanif (Class 5 or 6).
Originally published in 1713; attributed to M. de Bignon, a young Abbé. A series of romantic travels, in which Eastern and Western fiction is mixed; for instance, we have the story of the Nose-tree, which so far as I know has nothing Oriental about it.
16. The Voyages of Zulma in Fairy Land (Class 4).
European fairy tales, with nothing Oriental about them but the names of persons and places. The work is unfinished.
17, 18. The Tales of Bidpai (translated by Galland) are Indian, and therefore need no further notice here.
19–23. Chinese, Tartarian and Mogul Tales (Class 6).
Published in 1723, and later by Thomas Simon Gueulette.
Concerning these tales, Mr. Clouston remarks (in litt.): “Much of the groundwork of these clever imitations of the Arabian Nights has been, directly or indirectly, derived from Eastern sources; for instance, in the so-called Tartar tales, the adventures of the Young Calender find parallels, (1) in the well-known Bidpai tale of the Bráhman, the Sharpers and the Goat (Kalila and Dimna, Pánchatantra, Hitopadesa, &c.) and (2) in the worldwide story of the Farmer who outwitted the Six Men (Indian Antiquary, vol. 3) of which there are many versions current in Europe, such as the Norse tale of Big Peter and Little Peter, the Danish tale of Great Claus and Little Claus; the German tale (Grimm) of the Little Farmer; the Irish tale of Little Fairly (Samuel Lover’s collection of Irish Fairy Legends and Stories); four Gaelic versions in Campbell’s Popular Tales of the West Highlands; a Kaba’il version in Riviere’s French collection (Contes populaires Kabylies); Uncle Capriano in Crane’s recently published Italian Popular Tales; and a Latin mediaeval version (written probably in the 11th century) in which the hero is called ‘Unibos,’ because he had only one cow.”
25. Oriental Tales (Class 6).
Mr. Clouston observes, “Appeared in 1749,2 and on the title page are said to have been translated from Mss. in the Royal French Library. The stories are, however, largely the composition of De Caylus himself, and those elements of them which are traceable to Asiatic sources have been considerably Frenchified.”
Nevertheless they are not without interest, and are nearly all of obviously Oriental origin. One of the stories is a fantastic account of the Birth of Mahomet, including romantic travels largely borrowed from No. 132a. Another story is a version of that of the Seven Sleepers. Other noteworthy tales are the story of the Dervish Abounader, which resembles Nos. 193 and 216d; and the story of Naerdan and Guzulbec, which is a tale of magical illusions similar to that of Monia Emin, in the Turkish story of Jewad.
The Count de Caylus was the author of various European as well as Oriental fairy tales. Of his Oriental collection, Sir R. F. Burton remarks:—“The stories are not Eastern but Western fairy tales proper, with kings and queens, giants and dwarfs, and fairies, good and bad. ‘Barbets’ act as body guard and army. Written in good old style, and free language, such as, for instance, son pétenlaire, with here and there a touch of salt humour, as in Rosanie ‘Charmante reine (car on n’a jamais parlé autrement à une reine, quel que laide qu’elle ait été).’”
29, 30. Tales of the Genii (Class 3).
Written in the middle of the last century by Rev. James Ridley, but purporting to be translated from the Persian of Horam, the son of Asmar, by Sir Charles Morell.
These tales have been reprinted many times; but it is very doubtful if they are based on any genuine Oriental sources. The amount of Oriental colouring may be guessed from the story of Urad, who having consented to become the bride of a Sultan on condition that he should dismiss all his concubines, and make her his sole queen (like Harald Harfagr on his marriage with Ragnhilda), is presented to his loving subjects as their Sultana!
32. Adventures of Zeloide and Amanzarifdine. Indian Tales, by M. de Moncrif (Class 4). Ordinary European Fairy Tales, with the scene laid in the East.
33. Nourjahad, by Mrs. Sheridan (Class 3).
An unworthy favourite is reformed by a course of practical moral lessons conveyed by the Sultan through supposed supernatural agencies. Mr. Clouston regards it as “one of the very best of the imitations of Eastern fiction. The plot is ingeniously conceived and well wrought out, and the interest never flags throughout.”
34. Pajon’s Oriental Tales (Class 5). These demand no special notice.
In addition to the above, the following Oriental works are mentioned in the Cabinet des Fées, but not reprinted:
This is the same as the Count de Caylus’ Oriental Tales. Sir R. F. Burton has received the following memorandum, respecting a copy of an earlier edition of the same work: “Contes Orientaux, tirés des manuscrits de la Bibliothèque du Roy de France, ornés de figures en taille douce. A la Haye, 1743, 2 vols. 12mo, polished calf gilt, gilt edges, arms in gilt on the sides.
“The Preface says, ‘M. Petit et M. Galland n’ont en aucune connaissance des manuscrits dont cet ouvrage est tiré.’
“The Tales are from the Mss. and translations sent by those despatched by the French Ministers to Constantinople to learn Arabic, &c., and so become fit to act as Dragomans and Interpreters to the French Embassy.”
There is a copy of this work in the British Museum; it proves, as I expected, to be the series of tales subsequently attributed to the Count de Caylus.
In addition to the above, the following, of which I can only give the names, are mentioned in the Cabinet des Fées, but not reprinted:—
The remaining imitations, &c., known to me I shall place roughly in chronological order, premising that I fear the list must be very incomplete, and that I have met with very few except in English and French.
Zadig, ou la Destinée, par Voltaire3 probably partakes of classes 2 and 6; said to be partly based on Gueulette’s “Soirées Bretonnes,” published in 1712. The latter is included in Cabinet des Fées, Vol. 32.
Vathek, an Arabian Tale, by William Beckford. I include this book here because it was written and first published in French. Its popularity was once very great, and it contains some effective passages, though it belongs to Class 2, and is rather a parody than an imitation of Oriental fiction. The Caliph Vathek, after committing many crimes at the instance of his mother, the witch Carathis, in order to propitiate Eblis, finally starts on an expedition to Istakar. On the way, he seduces Nouronihar, the beautiful daughter of the Emir Fakreddin, and carries her with him to the Palace of Eblis, where they am condemned to wander eternally, with their hearts surrounded with flames.
This idea (which is certainly not Oriental, so far as I know) took the fancy of Byron, who was a great admirer of Vathek, and he has mixed it with genuine Oriental features in a powerful passage in the Giaour, beginning:
“But thou, false infidel! shalt writhe
Beneath avenging Monkir’s scythe;
And from its torment ’scape alone
To wander round lost Eblis’ throne;
And fire unquenched, unquenchable,
Around, within thy heart shall dwell;
Nor ear can hear, nor tongue can tell
The tortures of that inward hell!” &c.
How errors relative to Eastern matters are perpetuated is illustrated by the fact that I have seen these lines quoted in some modern philosophical work as descriptive of the hell in which the Mohammedans believe!
Southey, in Thalaba, b. 1., speaks of the Sarsar, “the Icy Wind of Death,” an expression which he probably borrowed from Vathek.
The Count of Hamilton’s Fairy Tales. Written shortly after the first publication of Galland’s work. There is an English Translation among Bohn’s Extra Volumes.
Les Mille et un Fadaises, par Cazotte. Class 1. I have not seen them.
La Mille et deuxième Nuit, par Theophilus Gautier (Paris, 1880). Probably Class 1 or 2; I have not seen it.
The Vision of Mirza (Addison in the “Spectator”). Class 3.
The Story of Amurath. Class 3. I do not know the author. I read it in a juvenile book published about the end of last century, entitled the Pleasing Instructor.
The Persian Tales of Inatulla of Delhi. Published in 1768, by Colonel Alexander Dow at Edinburgh. A French translation appeared at Amsterdam in two vols. and in Paris in one vol. (1769). Class 6. Chiefly founded on a wellknown Persian work, of which a more correct, though still incomplete, version was published in 3 vols. by Jonathan Scott in 1799, under the title of Bahar Danush, or Garden of Knowledge.
Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson. Class 3. Too well known to need comment.
Almoran and Hamet, by Dr. Hawksworth. Class 3. Very popular at the beginning of the present century, but now forgotten.
Oriental Fairy Tales (London, 1853). Class 4. A series of very pretty fairy tales, by an anonymous author, in which the scene is laid in the East (especially Egypt).
The Shaving of Shagpat, by George Meredith (London, 1855). Class 5. I prefer this to most other imitations of an Oriental tale.
The Thousand and One Humbugs. Classes 1 and 2. Published in “Household Words,” vol. xi. (1855) pp. 265–267, 289–292, 313–316. Parodies on Nos. 1, 195, 6d, and 6e,f.
Eastern Tales, by many story-tellers. Compiled and edited from ancient and modern authors by Mrs. Valentine, author of “Sea Fights and Land Battles,” &c. (Chandos Classics.)
In her preface, the authoress states that the tales “are gathered from both ancient and modern French, Italian and English sources.”
Contains 14 tales, some genuine, others imitations, One, “Alischar and Smaragdine,” is a genuine story of The Nights (No. 41 of our Table), and is probably taken from Trébutien. Three tales, “Jalaladeen,” “Haschem,” and “Jussuf,” are Grimm’s imitations, taken probably from the composite English edition of 1847, and with the same illustrations. “The Seven Sleepers” and the “Four Talismans” are from the Count de Caylus’ tales; “Halechalbe” and “Bohetzad” (our No. 174) are from Chavis and Cazotte; “The Enchanters” and “Urad” are from the “Tales of the Genii”; and “The Pantofles” is the well-known story of the miser Casem and his slippers, but I know not where it first appeared. The remaining three tales are unknown to me, and as I have seen no volume of Italian Oriental tales, some, no doubt, are derived from the Italian sources of which the authoress spoke. They are the following: “The Prince and the Lions,” “The City of the Demons” (a Jewish story purporting to have been written in England) and “Sadik Beg.”
New Arabian Nights, by R. L. Stevenson (London, 1882).
More New Arabian Nights. The Dynamiter. By R. L. Stevenson and Vander Grift (London, 1882). Class 4.
Of these tales, Sir R. F. Burton observes, “The only visible connection with the old Nights is in the habit of seeking adventures under a disguise. The method is to make the main idea possible and the details extravagant. In another ‘New Arabian Nights,’ the joint production of MM. Brookfield, Besant and Pollock, the reverse treatment is affected, the leading idea being grotesque and impossible, and the details accurate and lifelike.”
It is quite possible that there are many imitations in German, but I have not met with them. I can only mention one or two tales by Hauff (the Caliph turned Stork, and the Adventures of Said); a story called “Ali and Gulhindi,” by what author I do not now remember; and some imitations said to be by Grimm, already mentioned in reference to the English composite edition of 1847. They are all European fairy tales, in an Eastern dress.
Among books specially interesting to the student of The Nights, I may mention Weil’s “Biblische Legenden der Muselmänner, aus arabischen Quellen zusammengetragen, und mit jüdischen Sagen verglichen” (Frankfort-on-Main, 1845). An anonymous English translation appeared in 1846 under the title of “The Bible, the Koran, and the Talmud,” and it also formed one of the sources from which the Rev. S. Baring–Gould compiled his “Legends of Old Testament Characters” (2 vols., 1871). The late Prof. Palmer’s “Life of Haroun Al–Raschid” (London, 1881), is not much more than a brief popular sketch. The references to The Nights in English and other European literatures are innumerable; but I cannot refrain from quoting Mark Twain’s identification of Henry the Eighth with Shahryar (Huckleberry Finn, chap. xxiii).
“My, you ought to have seen old Henry the Eighth when he was in bloom. He was a blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was ordering up eggs. “Fetch up Nell Gwynn,” he says. They fetch her up. Next morning, “Chop off her head.” And they chop it off. “Fetch up Jane Shore,” he says; and up she comes. Next morning, “Chop off her head.” And they chop it off. “Ring up Fair Rosamun.” Fair Rosamun answers the bell. Next morning, “Chop off her head.” And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night, and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book — which was a good name, and stated the case. You don’t know kings, Jim, but I know them, and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I’ve struck in history. Well, Henry, he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he do it — give notice? — give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbour overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was his style — he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? — ask him to show up? No — drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. Spose people left money laying around where he was — what did he do? He collared it. Spose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didnt set down there and see that he done it — what did he do? He always done the other thing. Spose he opened his mouth — what then? If he didnt shut it up powerful quick, he’d lose a lie, every time. That’s the kind of a bug Henry was.”
And here I end this long volume with repeating in other words and other tongue what was said in “L’Envoi”:—
Hide thou whatever here is found of fault;
And laud The Faultless and His might exalt!
After which I have only to make my bow and to say
“Salam.”
General Studholme J. Hodgson
My Dear General,
To whom with more pleasure or propriety can I inscribe this volume than to my preceptor of past times; my dear old friend, whose deep study and vast experience of such light literature as The Nights made me so often resort to him for good counsel and right direction? Accept this little token of gratitude, and believe me, with the best of wishes and the kindest of memories,
Ever yours sincere and attached
Richard F. Burton.
London, July 15, 1886.
After offering my cordial thanks to friends and subscribers who have honoured “The Thousand Nights and a Night” (Kama Shastra Society) with their patronage and approbation, I would inform them that my “Anthropological Notes” are by no means exhausted, and that I can produce a complete work only by means of a somewhat extensive Supplement. I therefore propose to print (not publish), for private circulation only, five volumes, bearing the title–
Supplemental Nights
to the book of
The Thousand Nights and a Night
This volume and its successor (Nos. i. and ii.) contain Mr. John Payne’s Tales from the Arabic; his three tomes being included in my two. The stories are taken from the Breslau Edition where they are distributed among the volumes between Nos. iv and xii., and from the Calcutta fragment of 1814. I can say little for the style of the story-stuff contained in this Breslau text, which has been edited with phenomenal incuriousness. Many parts are hopelessly corrupted, whilst at present we have no means of amending the commissions and of supplying the omissions by comparison with other manuscripts. The Arabic is not only faulty, but dry and jejune, comparing badly with that of the “Thousand Nights and a Night,” as it appears in the Macnaghten and the abridged Bulak Texts. Sundry of the tales are futile; the majority has little to recommend it, and not a few require a diviner rather than a translator. Yet they are valuable to students as showing the different sources and the heterogeneous materials from and of which the great Saga-book has been compounded. Some are, moreover, striking and novel, especially parts of the series entitled King Shah Bakht and his Wazir Al-Rahwan (pp. 191-355). Interesting also is the Tale of the “Ten Wazirs” (pp. 55-155), marking the transition of the Persian Bakhtiyár-Námeh into Arabic. In this text also and in this only is found Galland’s popular tale “Abou-Hassan; or, the Sleeper Awakened,” which I have entitled “The Sleeper and the Waker.”
In the ten volumes of “The Nights” proper, I mostly avoided parallels of folk-lore and fabliaux which, however interesting and valuable to scholars, would have over-swollen the bulk of a work especially devoted to Anthropology. In the “Supplementals,” however, it is otherwise; and, as Mr. W.A. Clouston, the “Storiologist,” has obligingly agreed to collaborate with me, I shall pay marked attention to this subject, which will thus form another raison d’ête for the additional volumes.
Richard F. Burton
Junior Travellers’ Club,
December 1, 1886
It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that there was once at Baghdad, in the Caliphate of Harun al-Rashid, a man and a merchant, who had a son Abú al-Hasan-al-Khalí’a by name.2 The merchant died leaving great store of wealth to his heir who divided it into two equal parts, whereof he laid up one and spent of the other half; and he fell to companying with Persians3 and with the sons of the merchants and he gave himself up to good drinking and good eating, till all the wealth4 he had with him was wasted and wantoned; whereupon he betook himself to his friends and comrades and cup-companions and expounded to them his case, discovering to them the failure of that which was in his hand of wealth. But not one of them took heed of him or even deigned answer him. So he returned to his mother (and indeed his spirit was broken) and related to her that which had happened to him and what had befallen him from his friends, how they had neither shared with him nor required him with speech. Quoth she, “O Abu al-Hasan, on this wise are the sons5 of this time: an thou have aught, they draw thee near to them,6 and if thou have naught, they put thee away from them.” And she went on to condole with him, what while he bewailed himself and his tears flowed and he repeated these lines:—
“An wane my wealth, no mane will succour me,
When my wealth waxeth all men friendly show:
How many a friend, for wealth showed friendliness
Who, when my wealth departed, turned to foe!”
Then he sprang up and going to the place wherein was the other half of his good, took it and lived with it well; and he sware that he would never again consort with a single one of those he had known, but would company only with the stranger nor entertain even him but one night and that, when it morrowed, he would never know him more. Accordingly he fell to sitting every eventide on the bridge over Tigris and looking at each one who passed by him; and if he saw him to be a stranger, he made friends with him and caroused with him all night till morning. Then he dismissed him and would never more salute him with the Salam nor ever more drew near unto him neither invited him again. Thus he continued to do for the space of a full year, till, one day, while he sat on the bridge, as was his wont, expecting who should come to him so he might take him and pass the night with him, behold, up came the Caliph and Masrur, the Sworder of his vengeance7 disguised in merchants dress, according to their custom. So Abu al-Hasan looked at them and rising, because he knew them not, asked them, “What say ye? Will ye go with me to my dwelling-place, so ye may eat what is ready and drink what is at hand, to wit, platter-bread8 and meat cooked and wine strained?” The Caliph refused this, but he conjured him and said to him, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, go with me, for thou art my guest this night, and baulk not my hopes of thee!” And he ceased not to press him till he consented; whereat Abu al-Hasan rejoiced and walking on before him, gave not over talking with him till they came to his house and he carried the Caliph into the saloon. Al-Rashid entered a hall such as an thou sawest it and gazedst upon its walls, thou hadst beheld marvels; and hadst thou looked narrowly at its water-conduits thou would have seen a fountain cased with gold. The Caliph made his man abide at the door; and, as soon as he was seated, the host brought him that eating might be grateful to him. Then he removed the tray and they washed their hands and the Commander of the Faithful sat down again; whereupon Abu al-Hasan set on the drinking vessels and seating himself by his side, fell to filling and giving him to drink9 and entertaining him with discourse. And when they had drunk their sufficiency the host called for a slave-girl like a branch of Ban who took a lute and sang to it these two couplets:—
“O thou aye dwelling in my heart,
Whileas thy form is far from sight,
Thou art my sprite my me unseen,
Yet nearest near art thou, my sprite.”
His hospitality pleased the Caliph and the goodliness of his manners, and he said to him, O youth, who art thou? Make me acquainted with thyself, so I may requite thee thy kindness.” But Abu al-Hasan smiled and said, “O my lord, far be it, alas! that what is past should again come to pass and that I company with thee at other time than this time!” The Prince of True Believers asked, “Why so? and why wilt thou not acquaint me with thy case?” and Abu al-Hasan answered, “Know, O my lord, that my story is strange and that there is a cause for this affair.” Quoth Al-Rashid, “And what is the cause?” and quoth he, “The cause hath a tail.” The Caliph10 laughed at his words and Abu al-Hasan said, “I will explain to thee this saying by the tale of the Larrikin and the Cook. So hear thou, O my lord.”
One of the ne’er-do-wells found himself one fine morning without aught and the world was straightened upon him and patience failed him; so he lay down to sleep and ceased not slumbering till the sun stang him and the foam came out upon his mouth, whereupon he arose, and he was penniless and had not even so much as a single dirham. Presently he arrived at the shop of a Cook, who had set his pots and pans over the fire and washed his saucers and wiped his scales and swept his shop and sprinkled it; and indeed his fats and oils were clear and clarified and his spices fragrant and he himself stood behind his cooking pots ready to serve customers. So the Larrikin, whose wits had been sharpened by hunger, went in to him and saluting him, said to him, “Weigh me half a dirham’s worth of meat and a quarter of a dirham’s worth of boiled grain12 and the like of bread.” So the Kitchener weighed it out to him and the good-for-naught entered the shop, whereupon the man set the food before him and he ate till he had gobbled up the whole and licked the saucers and sat perplexed, knowing not how he should do with the Cook concerning the price of that he had eaten, and turning his eyes about upon everything in the shop; and as he looked, behold, he caught sight of an earthen pan lying arsy-versy upon its mouth; so he raised it from the ground and found under it a horse’s tail, freshly cut off and the blood oozing from it; whereby he knew that the Cook adulterated his meat with horseflesh. When he discovered this default, he rejoiced therein and washing his hands, bowed his head and went out; and when the Kitchener saw that he went and gave him naught, he cried out, saying, “Stay, O pest, O burglar!” So the Larrikin stopped and said to him, “Dost thou cry out upon me and call to me with these words, O cornute?” Whereat the Cook was angry and coming down from the shop, cried, “What meanest thou by thy speech, O low fellow, thou that devourest meat and millet and bread and kitchen and goest forth with ‘the Peace13 be on thee!’ as it were the thing had not been, and payest down naught for it?” Quoth the Lackpenny, “Thou liest, O accursed son of a cuckold!” Whereupon the Cook cried out and laying hold of his debtor’s collar, said, “O Moslems, this fellow is my first customer14 this day and he hath eaten my food and given me naught.” So the folk gathered about them and blamed the Ne’er-do-well and said to him, “Give him the price of that which thou hast eaten.” Quoth he, “I gave him a dirham before I entered the shop;” and quoth the Cook, “Be everything I sell this day forbidden to me, if he gave me so much as the name of a coin! By Allah, he gave me naught but ate my food and went out and would have made off, without aught said.” Answered the Larrikin, “I gave thee a dirham,” and he reviled the Kitchener, who returned his abuse; whereupon he dealt him a buffet and they gripped and grappled and throttled each other. When the folk saw them fighting, they came up to them and asked them, “What is this strife between you and no cause for it?” and the Lackpenny answered, “Ay, by Allah, but there is a cause for it, and the cause hath a tail!” Whereupon, cried the Cook, “Yea, by Allah, now thou mindest me of thyself and thy dirham! Yes, he gave me a dirham and but a quarter of the coin is spent. Come back and take the rest of the price of thy dirham.” For he understood what was to do, at the mention of the tail; “and I, O my brother” (added Abu al-Hasan), “my story hath a cause, which I will tell thee.” The Caliph laughed at his speech and said, “By Allah, this is none other than a pleasant tale! Tell me thy story and the cause.” Replied the host, “With love and goodly gree! Know, O my lord, that my name is Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a and that my father died and left me abundant wealth of which I made two parts. One I laid up and with the other I betook myself to enjoying the pleasures of friendship and conviviality and consorting with intimates and boon-companions and with the sons of the merchants, nor did I leave one but I caroused with him and he with me, and I lavished all my money on comrades and good cheer, till there remained with me naught;15 whereupon I betook myself to the friends and fellow-topers upon whom I had wasted my wealth, so perhaps they might provide for my case; but, when I visited them and went round about to them all, I found no vantage in one of them, nor would any so much as break a bittock of bread in my face. So I wept for myself and repairing to my mother, complained to her of my case. Quoth she:—‘Such are friends; an thou have aught, they frequent thee and devour thee, but, an thou have naught, they cast thee off and chase thee away.’ then I brought out the other half of my money and bound myself to an oath that I would never entertain any save one single night, after which I would never again salute him nor notice him; hence my saying to thee:—‘Far be it, alas! that what is past should again come to pass, for I will never again company with thee after this night.’” when the Commander of the Faithful heard this, he laughed a loud laugh and said, “By Allah, O my brother, thou art indeed excused in this matter, now that I know the cause and that the cause hath a tail. Nevertheless, Inshallah, I will not sever myself from thee.” replied Abu al-Hasan, “O my guest, did I not say to thee, ‘Far be it, alas! that what is past should again come to pass? For indeed I will never again foregather with any!’” then the Caliph rose and the host set before him a dish of roast goose and a bannock of first-bread16 and sitting down, fell to cutting off morsels and morselling the Caliph therewith. They gave not over eating till they were filled, when Abu al-Hasan brought basin and ewer and potash17 and they washed their hands. Then he lighted three wax-candles and three lamps, and spreading the drinking-cloth, brought strained wine, clear, old and fragrant, whose scent was as that of virgin musk. He filled the first cup and saying, “O my boon-companion, be ceremony laid aside between us by thy leave! Thy slave is by thee; may I not be afflicted with thy loss!” drank it off and filled a second cup, which he handed to the Caliph with due reverence. His fashion pleased the Commander of the Faithful, and the goodliness of his speech and he said to himself, “By Allah, I will assuredly requite him for this!” Then Abu al-Hasan filled the cup again and handed it to the Caliph, reciting these two couplets:18—
“Had we thy coming known, we would for sacrifice
Have poured thee out heart’s blood or blackness of the eyes;
Ay, and we would have spread our bosoms in thy way,
That so thy feet might fare on eyelids, carpet-wise.”
When the Caliph heard his verses, he took the cup from his hand and kissed it and drank it off and returned it to Abu al-Hasan, who make him an obeisance and filled it and drank. Then he filled again and kissing the cup thrice, recited these lines:—
“Your presence honoureth the base,
And we confess the deed of grace;
An you absent yourself from us,
No freke we find to fill your place.”
Then he gave the cup to the Caliph, saying, “Drink it in health and soundness! It doeth away malady and bringeth remedy and setteth the runnels of health to flow free.” So they ceased not carousing and conversing till middle-night, when the Caliph said to his host, “O my brother, hast thou in they heart a concupiscence thou wouldst have accomplished or a contingency thou wouldst avert?” said he, “By Allah, there is no regret in my heart save that I am not empowered with bidding and forbidding, so I might manage what is in my mind!” Quoth the Commander of the Faithful, “By Allah, and again by Allah,19 O my brother, tell me what is in thy mind!” and quoth Abu al-Hasan, “Would Heaven I might be Caliph for one day and avenge myself on my neighbors, for that in my vicinity is a mosque and therein four shaykhs, who hold it a grievance when there cometh a guest to my, and they trouble me with talk and worry me in words and menace me that they will complain of me to the Prince of True Believers, and indeed they oppress me exceedingly, and I crave of Allah the Most High power for one day, that I may beat each and every of them with four hundred lashes, as well as the Imam of the mosque, and parade them round about the city of Baghdad and bid cry before them: ‘This is the reward and the lest of the reward for whoso exceedeth in talk and vexeth the folk and turneth their joy to annoy.’ This is what I wish, and no more.” Said the Caliph, “Allah grant thee that thou seekest! Let us crack one last cup and rise ere the dawn draw near, and to-morrow night I will be with thee again.” Said Abu al-Hasan, “Far be it!” Then the Caliph crowned a cup, and putting therein a piece of Cretan Bhang,20 gave it to his host and said to him, “My life on thee, O my brother, drink this cup from my hand!” and Abu al-Hasan answered, “Ay, by thy life, I will drink it from thy hand.” So he took it and drank it off; but hardly had it settled in his stomach, when his head forewent his heels and he fell to the ground like one slain; whereupon the Caliph went out and said to his slave Masrur, “Go in to yonder young man, the house master, and take him up and bring him to me at the palace; and when thou goest, shut the door.” So saying, he went away, whilst Masrur entered, and taking up Abu al-Hasan, shut the door behind him, and made after his master, till he reached with him the palace what while the night drew to an end and the cocks began crowing,21 and set him down before the Commander of the Faithful, who laughed at him.22 then he sent for Ja’afar the Barmecide and when he came before him, said to him, “Note thou yonder young man” (pointing to Abu al-Hasan), “and when thou shalt see him to-morrow seated in my place of estate and on the throne23 of my Caliphate and clad in my royal clothing, stand thou in attendance upon him and enjoin the Emirs and Grandees and the folk of my household and the officers of my realm to be upon their feet, as in his service and obey him in whatso he shall bid them do; and thou, if he speak to thee of aught, do it and hearken unto his say and gainsay him not in anything during this coming day.” Ja’afar acknowledged the order with “Hearkening and obedience” and withdrew, whilst the Prince of True Believers went in to the palace women, who came up to him, and he said to them, “When this sleeper shall awake to-morrow, kiss ye the ground between his hands, and do ye wait upon him and gather round about him and clothe him in the royal clothing and serve him with the service of the Caliphate and deny not aught of his estate, but say to him, ‘Thou art the Caliph.’” Then he taught them what they should say to him and how they should do with him and withdrawing to a retired room,24 let down a curtain before himself and slept. Thus fared it with the Caliph; but as regards Abu al-Hasan, he gave not over snoring in his sleep till the day brake clear, and the rising of the sun drew near, when a woman in waiting came up to him and said to him, “O our lord, the morning prayer!” hearing these words he laughed and opening his eyes, turned them about the palace and found himself in an apartment whose walls were painted with gold and lapis lazuli and its ceiling dotted and starred with red gold. Around it were sleeping chambers, with curtains of gold-embroidered silk let down over their doors, and all about vessels of gold and porcelain and crystal and furniture and carpets dispread and lamps burning before the niche wherein men prayed, and slave-girls and eunuchs and Mamelukes and black slaves and boys and pages and attendants. When he saw this he was bewildered in his wit and said, “By Allah, either I am dreaming a dream, or this is Paradise and the Abode of Peace!”25 And he shut his eyes and would have slept again. Quoth one of the eunuchs, “O my lord, this is not of thy wont, O Commander of the Faithful!” then the rest of the handmaids of the palace came up to him and lifted him into a sitting posture, when he found himself upon a mattrass raised a cubit’s height from the ground and all stuffed with floss silk. So they seated him upon it and propped his elbow with a pillow, and he looked at the apartment and its vastness and saw those eunuchs and slave-girls in attendance upon him and standing about his head, whereupon he laughed at himself and said, “By Allah, ’tis not as I were on wake, yet I am not asleep! And in his perplexity he bowed his chin upon his bosom and then opened his eyes, little by little, smiling and saying, “What is this state wherein I find myself?” then he arose and sat up, whilst the damsels laughed at him privily; and he was bewildered in his wit, and bit his finger; and as the bite pained him, he cried, “Oh!” and was vexed; and the Caliph watched him, whence he saw him not, and laughed. Presently Abu al-Hasan turned to a damsel and called to her; whereupon she answered, “At thy service, O Prince of True Believers!” Quoth he, “what is thy name?” and quoth she, “Shajarat al-Durr.”26 then he said to her, “By the protection of Allah, O damsel, am I Commander of the Faithful?” She replied, “Yes, indeed, by the protection of Allah thou in this time art Commander of the Faithful.” Quoth he, “By Allah, thou liest, O thousandfold whore!”27 Then he glanced at the Chief Eunuch and called to him, whereupon he came to him and kissing the ground before him, said, “Yes, O Commander of the Faithful.” Asked Abu al-Hasan, “Who is Commander of the Faithful?” and the Eunuch answered “Thou.” And Abu al-Hasan said, “Thou liest, thousandfold he-whore that thou art!” then he turned to another eunuch and said to him, “O my chief,28 by the protection of Allah, am I Prince of the True Believers?” Said he, “Ay, by Allah, O my lord, thou art in this time Commander of the Faithful and Viceregent of the Lord of the three Worlds.” Abu al-Hasan laughed at himself and doubted of his reason and was bewildered at what he beheld, and said, “In one night do I become Caliph? Yesterday I was Abu al-Hasan the Wag, and to-day I am Commander of the Faithful.” then the Chief Eunuch came up to him and said, “O Prince of True Believers (the name of Allah encompass thee!), thou art indeed Commander of the Faithful and Viceregent of the Lord of the three Worlds!” and the slave-girls and eunuchs flocked round about him, till he arose and abode wondering at his case. Hereupon the Eunuch brought him a pair of sandals wrought with raw silk and green silk and purfled with red gold, and he took them and after examining them set them in his sleeve; whereat the Castrato cried out and said, “Allah! Allah! O my lord, these are sandals for the treading of thy feet, so thou mayst wend to the wardrobe.” Abu al-Hasan was confounded, and shaking the sandals from his sleeve, put them on his feet, whilst the Caliph died29 of laughter at him. The slave forewent him to the chapel of ease, where he entered and doing his job,30 came out into the chamber, whereupon the slave-girls brought him a basin of gold and a ewer of silver and poured water on his hands31 and he made the Wuzú-ablution. Then they spread him a prayer-carpet and he prayed. Now he knew not how to pray32 and gave not over bowing and prostrating for twenty inclinations,33 pondering in himself the while and saying, “By Allah, I am none other than the Commander of the Faithful in very truth! This is assuredly no dream, for all these things happen not in a dream.” And he was convinced and determined in himself that he was Prince of True Believers, so he pronounced the Salám34 and finished his prayers; whereupon te Mamelukes and slave-girls came round about him with bundled suits of silken and linen stuffs and clad him in the costume of the Caliphate and gave the royal dagger in his hand. Then the Chief Eunuch came in and said, “O Prince of True Believers, the Chamberlain is at the door craving permission to enter.” Said he, “Let him enter!” whereupon he came in and after kissing ground offered the salutation, “Peace be upon thee, O Commander of the Faithful!” at this Abu al-Hasan rose and descended from the couch to the floor; whereupon the official exclaimed, “Allah! Allah! O Prince of True Believers, wottest thou not that all men are thy lieges and under thy rule and that it is not meet for the Caliph to rise to any man?” Presently the Eunuch went out before him and the little white slaves behind him, and they ceased not going till they raised the curtain and brought him into the hall of judgment and the throne-room of the Caliphate. There he saw the curtains and the forty doors and Al-’Ijlí and Al-Rakáshí the poet, and ’Ibdán and Jadím and Abu Ishák35 the cup-companion and beheld swords drawn and the lions36 compassing the throne as the white of the eye encircleth the black, and gilded glaives and death-dealing bows and Ajams and Arabs and Turks and Daylamites and folk and peoples and Emirs and Wazirs and Captains and Grandees and Lords of the land and men of war in band, and in very sooth there appeared the might of the house of Abbas37 and the majesty of the Prophet’s family. So he sat down upon the throne of the Caliphate and set the dagger38 on his lap, whereupon all present came up to kiss ground between his hands and called down on him length of life and continuance of weal. Then came forward Ja’afar the Barmecide and kissing the ground, said, “Be the wide world of Allah the treading of thy feet and may Paradise be thy dwelling-place and the Fire the home of thy foes! Never may neighbor defy thee nor the lights of fire die out for thee,39 O Caliph of all cities and ruler of all countries!” Therewith Abu al-Hasan cried out at him and said, “O dog of the sons of Barmak, go down forthright, thou and the chief of the city police, to such a place in such a street and deliver an hundred dinars of gold to the mother of Abu al-Hasan the Wag and bear her my salutations. Then, go to such a mosque and take the four Shaykhs and the Imam and scourge each of them with a thousand40 lashes and mount them on beasts, face to tail, and parade them round all the city and banish them to a place other than this city; and bid the crier make cry before them, saying: ‘This is the reward and the least of the reward of whoso multiplieth words and molesteth his neighbors and damageth their delights and stinteth their eating and drinking!’” Ja’afar received the command and answered, “With obedience”; after which he went down from before Abu al-Hasan to the city and did all he had ordered him to do. Meanwhile, Abu al-Hasan abode in the Caliphate, taking and giving, bidding and forbidding, and carrying out his command till the end of the day, when he gave leave and permission to withdraw, and the Emirs and Officers of state departed to their several occupations and he looked towards the Chamberlain and the rest of the attendants and said, “Begone!” Then the Eunuchs came to him and calling down on him length of life and continuance of weal, walked in attendance upon him and raised the curtain, and he entered the pavilion of the Harem, where he found candles lighted and lamps burning and singing-women smiting on instruments, and ten slave-girls, high-bosomed maids. When he saw this, he was confounded in his wit and said to himself, “By Allah, I am in truth Commander of the Faithful!” presently adding, “or haply these are of the Jann and he who was my guest yesternight was one of their kings who saw no way to requite my favours save by commanding his Ifrits to address me as Prince of True Believers. But an these be of the Jann may Allah deliver me in safety from their mischief!” As soon as he appeared, the slave-girls rose to him and carrying him up on to the daïs,41 brought him a great tray, bespread with the richest viands. So he ate thereof with all his might and main, till he had gotten his fill, when he called one of the handmaids and said to her, “What is thy name?” Replied she, “My name is Miskah,”42 and he said to another, “What is thy name?” Quoth she, “My name is Tarkah.”43 Then he asked a third, “What is thy name?” who answered, “My name is Tohfah;”44 and he went on to question the damsels of their names, one after other, till he had learned the ten, when he rose from that place and removed to the wine-chamber. He found it every way complete and saw therein ten great trays, covered with all fruits and cakes and every sort of sweetmeats. So he sat down and ate thereof after the measure of his competency, and finding there three troops of singing-girls, was amazed and made the girls eat. Then he sat and the singers also seated themselves, whilst the black slaves and the white slaves and the eunuchs and pages and boys stood, and of the slave-girls some sat and some stood. The damsels sang and warbled all varieties of melodies and the place rang with the sweetness of the songs, whilst the pipes cried out and the lutes with them wailed, till it seemed to Abu al-Hasan that he was in Paradise and his heart was heartened and his breast broadened. So he sported and joyance grew on him and he bestowed robes of honour on the damsels and gave and bestowed, challenging this girl and kissing that and toying with a third, plying one with wine and morselling another with meat, till nightfall. All this while the Commander of the Faithful was diverting himself with watching him and laughing, and when night fell he bade one of the slave-girls drop a piece of Bhang in the cup and give it to Abu al-Hasan to drink. So she did his bidding and gave him the cup, which no sooner had he drunk than his head forewent his feet.45 Therewith the Caliph came forth from behind the curtain, laughing, and calling to the attendant who had brought Abu al-Hasan to the palace, said to him, “Carry46 this man to his own place.” So Masrur took him up and carrying him to his own house, set him down in the saloon. Then he went forth from him, and shutting the saloon-door upon him, returned to the Caliph, who slept till the morrow. As for Abu al-Hasan, he gave not over slumbering till Almighty Allah brought on the morning, when he recovered from the drug and awoke, crying out and saying, “Ho, Tuffáhah! Ho, Ráhat al-Kulúb! Ho, Miskah! Ho, Tohfah!”47 and he ceased not calling upon the palace handmaids till his mother heard him summoning strange damsels, and rising, came to him and said, “Allah’s name encompass thee! Up with thee, O my son, O Abu al-Hasan! Thou dreamest.” So he opened his eyes and finding an old woman at his head, raised his eyes and said to her, “Who art thou?” Quoth she, “I am thy mother;” and quoth he, “Thou liest! I am the Commander of the Faithful, the Viceregent of Allah.” Whereupon his mother shrieked aloud and said to him, “Heaven preserve thy reason! Be silent, O my son, and cause not the loss of our lives and the wasting of thy wealth, which will assuredly befal us if any hear this talk and carry it to the Caliph.” So he rose from his sleep, and finding himself in his own saloon and his mother by him, had doubts of his wit, and said to her, “By Allah, O my mother, I saw myself in a dream in a palace, with slave-girls and Mamelukes about me and in attendance upon me, and I sat upon the throne of the Caliphate and ruled. By Allah, O my mother, this is what I saw, and in very sooth it was no dream!” then he bethought himself awhile and said, “Assuredly,48 I am Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a, and this that I saw was only a dream when I was made Caliph and bade and forbade.” Then he bethought himself again and said, “Nay, but ’twas not a dream, and I am none other than the Caliph, and indeed I gave gifts and bestowed honour-robes.” Quoth his mother to him, “O my son, thou sportest with thy reason: thou wilt go to the mad-house49 and become a gazing-stock. Indeed, that which thou hast seen is only from the foul Fiend, and it was an imbroglio of dreams, for at times Satan sporteth with men’s wits in all manner of ways.”50 Then said she to him, “O my son, was there any one with thee yesternight?” And he reflected and said, “Yes; one lay the night with me and I acquainted him with my case and told him my tale. Doubtless, he was of the Devils and I, O my mother, even as thou sayst truly, am Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a.” She rejoined, “O my son, rejoice in tidings of all good, for yesterday’s record is that there came the Wazir Ja’afar the Barmecide and his many, and beat the Shaykhs of the mosque and the Imam, each a thousand lashes; after which they paraded them round about the city, making proclamation before them and saying: ‘This is the reward and the least of the reward of whoso faileth in goodwill to his neighbours and troubleth on them their lives!’ And he banished them from Baghdad. Moreover, the Caliph sent me an hundred dinars and sent to salute me.” Whereupon Abu al-Hasan cried out and said to her, “O ill-omened crone, wilt thou contradict me and tell me that I am not the Prince of True Believers? ’Twas I who commanded Ja’afar the Barmecide to beat the Shaykhs and parade them about the city and make proclamations before them, and ’twas I, very I, who sent thee the hundred dinars and sent to salute thee, and I, O beldam of ill-luck, am in very deed the Commander of the Faithful, and thou art a liar, who would make me out an idiot.” So saying, he rose up and fell upon her, and beat her with a staff of almond-wood, till she cried out, “Help, O Moslems!” and he increased the beating upon her, till the folk heard her cries and coming to her, found Abu al-Hasan bashing his mother and saying to her, “O old woman of ill-omen, am I not the Commander of the Faithful? Thou hast ensorcelled me!” When the folk heard his words, they said, “This man raveth,” and doubted not of his madness. So they came in upon him, and seizing him, pinioned his elbows, and bore him to the Bedlam. Quoth the Superintendent, “What aileth this youth?” and quoth they, “This is a madman, afflicted of the Jinn.” “By Allah, cried Abu al-Hasan, “they lie against me! I am no madman, but the Commander of the Faithful.” And the Superintendent answered him, saying, “None lieth but thou, O foulest of the Jinn-maddened!” Then he stripped him of his clothes, and clapping on his neck a heavy chain,51 bound him to a high lattice and fell to beating him two bouts a day and two anights; and he ceased not abiding on this wise the space of ten days. Then his mother came to him and said, “O my son, O Abu al-Hasan, return to thy right reason, for this is the Devil’s doing.” Quoth he, “Thou sayest sooth, O my mother, and bear witness of me that I repent me of that talk and turn me from my madness. So do thou deliver me, for I am nigh upon death.” Accordingly his mother went out to the Superintendent52 and procured his release and he returned to his own house. Now this was at the beginning of the month, and when it ended, Abu al-Hasan longed to drink liquor and, returning to his former habit, furnished his saloon and made ready food and bade bring wine; then, going forth to the bridge, he sat there, expecting one whom he should converse and carouse with, according to his custom. As he sat thus, behold, up came the Caliph and Masrur to him; but Abu al-Hasan saluted them not and said to Al-Rashid, “No friendly welcome to thee, O King of the Jánn!” Quoth Al-Rashid, “What have I done to thee?” and quoth Abu al-Hasan, “What more couldst thou do than what thou hast done to me, O foulest of the Jann? I have been beaten and thrown into Bedlam, where all said I was Jinn-mad and this was caused by none save thyself. I brought thee to my house and fed thee with my best; after which thou didst empower thy Satans and Marids to disport themselves with my wits from morning to evening. So avaunt and aroynt thee and wend thy ways!” The Caliph smiled and, seating himself by his side said to him, “O my brother, did I not tell thee that I would return to thee?” Quoth Abu al-Hasan, “I have no need of thee; and as the byword sayeth in verse:—
‘Fro’ my friend, ’twere meeter and wiser to part,
For what eye sees not born shall ne’er sorrow heart.’
And indeed, O my brother, the night thou camest to me and we conversed and caroused together, I and thou, ’twas as if the Devil came to me and troubled me that night.” Asked the Caliph, “And who is he, the Devil?” and answered Abu al-Hasan, “He is none other than thou;” whereat the Caliph laughed and coaxed him and spake him fair, saying, “O my brother, when I went out from thee, I forgot the door and left it open and perhaps Satan came in to thee.”53 Quoth Abu al-Hasan, “Ask me not of that which hath betided me. What possessed thee to leave the door open, so that the Devil came in to me and there befel me with him this and that?” And he related to him all that had betided him, first and last (and in repetition is not fruition); what while the Caliph laughed and hid his laughter. Then said he to Abu al-Hasan, “Praised be Allah who hath done away form thee whatso irked thee and that I see thee once more in weal!” And Abu al-Hasan said, “Never again will I take thee to cup-companion or sitting-comrade; for the proverb saith, ‘Whoso stumbleth on a stone and thereto returneth, upon him be blame and reproach.’ And thou, O my brother, nevermore will I entertain thee nor company with thee, for that I have not found they heel propitious to me.”54 But the Caliph coaxed him and said, “I have been the means of thy winning to thy wish anent the Imam and the Shaykhs.” Abu al-Hasan replied, “Thou hast;” and Al-Rashid continued, “And haply somewhat may betide thee which shall gladden thy heart yet more.” Abu al-Hasan asked, “What dost thou require of me?” and the Commander of the Faithful answered, “Verily, I am thy guest; reject not the guest.” Quoth Abu al-Hasan, “On condition that thou swear to me by the characts on the seal of Solomon, David’s son (on the twain be the Peace!), that thou wilt not suffer thine Ifrits to make fun of me.” He replied, “To hear is to obey!” Whereupon the Wag took him and brought him into the saloon and set food before him and entreated him with friendly speech. Then he told him all that had befallen him, whilst the Caliph was like to die of stifled laughter; after which Abu al-Hasan removed the tray of food and bringing the wine-service, filled a cup and cracked it three times, then gave it to the Caliph, saying, “O boon-companion mine, I am thy slave and let not that which I am about to say offend thee, and be thou not vexed, neither do thou vex me.” And he recited these verses:—
“Hear one that wills thee well! Lips none shall bless
Save those who drink for drunk and all transgress.
Ne’er will I cease to swill while night falls dark
Till lout my forehead low upon my tasse:
In wine like liquid sun is my delight
Which clears all care and gladdens allegresse.”
When the Caliph heard these his verses and saw how apt he was at couplets, he was delighted with exceeding delight and taking the cup, drank it off, and the twain ceased not to converse and carouse till the wine rose to their heads. Then quoth Abu al-Hasan to the Caliph, “O boon-companion mine, of a truth I am perplexed concerning my affair, for meseemed I was Commander of the Faithful and ruled and gave gifts and largesse, and in very deed, O my brother, it was not a dream.” Quoth the Caliph, “These were the imbroglios of sleep,” and crumbling a bit of Bhang into the cup, said to him, “By my life, do thou drink this cup;” and said Abu al-Hasan, “Surely I will drink it from thy hand.” Then he took the cup and drank it off, and no sooner had it settled in his stomach than his head fell to the ground before his feet. Now his manners and fashions pleased the Caliph and the excellence of his composition and his frankness, and he said in himself, “I will assuredly make him my cup-companion and sitting-comrade.” So he rose forthright and saying to Masrur, “Take him up,” returned to the palace. Accordingly, the Eunuch took up Abu al-Hasan and carrying him to the palace of the Caliphate, set him down before Al-Rashid, who bade the slaves and slave-girls compass him about, whilst he himself hid in a place where Abu al-Hasan could not see him. Then he commanded one of the hand-maidens to take the lute and strike it over the Wag’s head, whilst the rest smote upon their instruments. So they played and sang, till Abu al-Hasan awoke at the last of the night and heard the symphony of lutes and tambourines and the sound of the flutes and the singing of the slave-girls, whereupon he opened his eyes and finding himself in the palace, with the hand-maids and eunuchs about him, exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Come to my help this night which meseems more unlucky than the former! Verily, I am fearful of the Madhouse and of that which I suffered therein the first time, and I doubt not but the Devil is come to me again, as before. O Allah, my Lord, put thou Satan to shame!” Then he shut his eyes and laid his head in his sleeve, and fell to laughing softly and raising his head bytimes, but still found the apartment lighted and the girls singing. Presently, one of the eunuchs sat down at his head and said to him, “Sit up, O Prince of True Believers, and look on thy palace and thy slave-girls.” Said Abu al-Hasan, “Under the veil of Allah, am I in truth Commander of the Faithful, and dost thou not lie? Yesterday I rode not forth neither ruled, but drank and slept, and this eunuch cometh to make me rise.” Then he sat up and recalled to thought that which had betided him with his mother and how he had beaten her and entered the Bedlam, and he saw the marks of the beating, wherewith the Superintendent had beaten him, and was perplexed concerning his affair and pondered in himself, saying, “By Allah, I know not how my case is nor what is this that betideth me!” Then, gazing at the scene around him, he said privily, “All these are of the Jann in human shape, and I commit my case to Allah.” Presently he turned to one of the damsels and said to her, “Who am I?” Quoth she, “Thou art the Commander of the Faithful;” and quoth he, “Thou liest, O calamity!55 If I be indeed the Commander of the Faithful, bite my finger.” So she came to him and bit it with all her might, and he said to her, “It doth suffice.” Then he asked the Chief Eunuch, “Who am I?” and he answered, “Thou art the Commander of the Faithful.” So he left him and returned to his wonderment: then, turning to a little white slave, said to him, “Bite my ear;” and he bent his head low down to him and put his ear to his mouth. Now the Mameluke was young and lacked sense; so he closed his teeth upon Abu al-Hasan’s ear with all his might, till he came near to sever it; and he knew not Arabic, so, as often as the Wag said to him, “It doth suffice,” he concluded that he said, “Bite like a vice,” and redoubled his bite and made his teeth meet in the ear, whilst the damsels were diverted from him with hearkening to the singing-girls, and Abu al-Hasan cried out for succour from the boy and the Caliph lost his sense for laughter. Then he dealt the boy a cuff, and he let go his ear, whereupon all present fell down with laughter and said to the little Mameluke, “Art mad that thou bitest the Caliph’s ear on this wise?” And Abu al-Hasan cried to them, “Sufficeth ye not, O ye wretched Jinns, that which hath befallen me? But the fault is not yours: the fault is of your Chief who transmewed you from Jinn shape to mortal shape. I seek refuge against you this night by the Throne-verse and the Chapter of Sincerity56 and the Two Preventives!”57 So saying the Wag put off all his clothes till he was naked, with prickle and breech exposed and danced among the slave-girls. They bound his hands and he wantoned among them, while they died of laughing at him and the Caliph swooned away for excess of laughter. Then he came to himself and going forth the curtain to Abu al-Hasan, said to him, “Out on thee, O Abu al-Hasan! Thou slayest me with laughter.” So he turned to him and knowing him, said to him, “By Allah, ’tis thou slayest me and slayest my mother and slewest the Shaykhs and the Imam of the Mosque!” After which he kissed ground before him and prayed for the permanence of his prosperity and the endurance of his days. The Caliph at once robed him in a rich robe and gave him a thousand dinars; and presently he took the Wag into especial favour and married him and bestowed largesse on him and lodged him with himself in the palace and made him of the chief of his cup-companions, and indeed he was preferred with him above them and the Caliph advanced him over them all. Now they were ten in number, to wit, Al-’Ijlí and Al-Rakáshi and ’Ibdán and Hasan al-Farazdak and Al-Lauz and Al-Sakar and Omar al-Tartís and Abu Nowas and Abu Ishak al-Nadím and Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a, and by each of them hangeth a story which is told in other than this book.58 And indeed Abu al-Hasan became high in honour with the Caliph and favoured above all, so that he sat with him and the Lady Zubaydah bint al-Kasim, whose treasuress Nuzhat al-Fuád59 hight, was given to him in marriage. After this Abu al-Hasan the Wag abode with his wife in eating and drinking and all delight of life, till whatso was with them went the way of money, when he said to her, “Harkye, O Nuzhat al-Fuad!” Said she, “At they service;” and he continued, “I have it in mind to play a trick on the Caliph60 and thou shalt do the same with the Lady Zubaydah, and we will take of them at once, to begin with, two hundred dinars and two pieces of silk. She rejoined, “As thou willest, but what thinkest thou to do?” And he said, “We will feign ourselves dead and this is the trick. I will die before thee and lay myself out, and do thou spread over me a silken napkin and loose my turban over me and tie my toes and lay on my stomach a knife and a little salt.61 Then let down thy hair and betake thyself to thy mistress Zubaydah, tearing thy dress and slapping thy face and crying out. She will ask thee, ‘What aileth thee?’ and do thou answer her, ‘May thy head outlive Abu al-Hasan the Wag; for he is dead.’ She will mourn for me and weep and bid her new treasuress give thee an hundred dinars and a piece of silk62 and will say to thee, ‘Go, lay him out and carry him forth.’ So do thou take of her the hundred dinars and the piece of silk and come back, and when thou returnest to me, I will rise up and thou shalt lie down in my place, and I will go to the Caliph and say to him, ‘May thy head outlive Nuzhat al Fuad,’ and rend my raiment and pluck out my beard. He will mourn for thee and say to his treasurer, ‘Give Abu al-Hasan an hundred dinars and a piece of silk.’ Then he will say to me, ‘Go; lay her out and carry her forth;’ and I will come back to thee.” Therewith Nuzhat al-Fuad rejoiced and said, “Indeed, this is an excellent device.” Then Abu al-Hasan stretched himself out forthright and she shut hie eyes and tied his feet and covered with the napkin and did whatso her lord had bidden her; after which she tare her gear and bared her head and letting down her hair, went in to the Lady Zubaydah, crying out and weeping. When the Princess saw her in this state, she cried, “What plight is this? What is thy story and what maketh thee weep?” And Nuzhat al-Fuad answered, weeping and loud-wailing the while, “O my lady, may thy head live and mayst thou survive Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a; for he is dead!” The Lady Zubaydah mourned for him and said, “Alas, poor Abu al-Hasan the Wag!” and she shed tears for him awhile. Then she bade her treasuress give Nuzhat al-Fuad an hundred dinars and a piece of silk and said to her, “O Nuzhat al-Fuad, go, lay him out and carry him forth.” So she took the hundred dinars and the piece of silk and returned to her dwelling, rejoicing, and went in to her spouse and acquainted him what had befallen, whereupon he arose and rejoiced and girdled his middle and danced and took the hundred dinars and the piece of silk and laid them up. Then he laid out Nuzhat al-Fuad and did with her as she had done with him; after which he rent his raiment and plucked out his beard and disordered his turban and ran out nor ceased running till he came in to the Caliph, who was sitting in the judgment-hall, and he in this plight, beating his breast. The Caliph asked him, “What aileth thee, O Abu al-Hasan?” and he wept and answered, “Would heaven thy cup-companion had never been and would his hour had never come!”63 Quoth the Caliph, “Tell me thy case:” and quoth Abu al-Hasan, “O my lord, may thy head outlive Nuzhat al-Fuad!” The Caliph exclaimed, “There is no god but God;” and smote hand upon hand. Then he comforted Abu al-Hasan and said to him, “Grieve not, for we will bestow upon thee a bed-fellow other than she.” And he ordered the treasurer to give him an hundred dinars and a piece of silk. Accordingly the treasurer did what the Caliph bade him, and Al-Rashid said to him, “Go, lay her out and carry her forth and make her a handsome funeral.” So Abu al-Hasan took that which he had given him and returning to his house, rejoicing, went in to Nuzhat al-Fuad and said to her, “Arise, for our wish is won.” Hereat she arose and he laid before her the hundred ducats and the piece of silk, whereat she rejoiced, and they added the gold to the gold and the silk to the silk and sat talking and laughing each to other. Meanwhile, when Abu al-Hasan fared forth the presence of the Caliph and went to lay out Nuzhat al-Fuad, the Commander of the Faithful mourned for her and dismissing the divan, arose and betook himself, leaning upon Masrur, the Sworder of his vengeance, to the Lady Zubaydah, that he might condole with her for her hand-maid. He found her sitting weeping and awaiting his coming, so she might condole with him for his boon-companion Abu al-Hasan the Wag. So he said to her, “May thy head outlive thy slave-girl Nuzhat al-Fuad!” and said she, “O my lord, Allah preserve my slave-girl! Mayst thou live and long survive thy boon-companion Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a; for he is dead.” The Caliph smiled and said to his eunuch, “O Masrur, verily women are little of wit. Allah upon thee, say, was not Abu al-Hasan with me but now?”64 Quoth the Lady Zubaydah, laughing from a heart full of wrath, “Wilt thou not leave thy jesting? Sufficeth thee not that Abu al-Hasan is dead, but thou must put to death my slave-girl also and bereave us of the twain, and style me little of wit?” The Caliph answered, “Indeed, ’tis Nuzhat al-Fuad who is dead.” And the Lady Zubaydah said, “Indeed he hath not been with thee, nor hast thou seen him, and none was with me but now save Nuzhat al-Fuad, and she sorrowful, weeping with her clothes torn to tatters. I exhorted her to patience and gave her an hundred dinars and a piece of silk; and indeed I was awaiting thy coming, so I might console thee for thy cup-companion Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a, and was about to send for thee.”65 The Caliph laughed and said, “None is dead save Nuzhat al-Fuad;” and she, “No, no, good my lord; none is dead but Abu al-Hasan the Wag.” With this the Caliph waxed wroth, the Háshimí vein66 started out from between his eyes and throbbed: and he cried out to Masrur and said to him, “Fare thee forth to the house of Abu al-Hasan the Wag and see which of them is dead.” So Masrur went out, running, and the Caliph said to the Lady Zubaydah, “Wilt thou lay me a wager?” And said she, “Yes, I will wager, and I say that Abu al-Hasan is dead.” Rejoined the Caliph, “And I wager and say that none is dead save Nuzhat al-Fuad; and the stake between me and thee shall be the Garden of Pleasance67 against thy palace and the Pavilion of Pictures.”68 So they agreed upon this and sat awaiting Masrur’s return with the news. As for the Eunuch, he ceased not running till he came to the by-street, wherein was the stead of Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a. Now the Wag was comfortably seated and leaning back against the lattice,69 and chancing to look round, saw Masrur running along the street and said to Nuzhat al-Fuad, “Meseemeth the Caliph, when I went forth from him dismissed the Divan and went in to the Lady Zubaydah, to condole with her; whereupon she arose and condoled with him, saying, ‘Allah increase thy recompense for the loss of Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a!’ And he said to her, ‘None is dead save Nuzhat al-Fuad, may thy head outlive her!’ Quoth she, ‘’Tis not she who is dead, but Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a, thy boon-companion.’ And quoth he, ‘None is dead save Nuzhat al-Fuad.’ And they waxed so obstinate that the Caliph became wroth and they laid a wager, and he hath sent Masrur the Sworder to see who is dead. Now, therefore, ’twere best that thou lie down, so he may sight thee and go and acquaint the Caliph and confirm my saying.”70 So Nuzhat al-Fuad stretched herself out and Abu al-Hasan covered her with her mantilla and sat weeping at her head. Presently, Masrur the eunuch suddenly came in to him and saluted him, and seeing Nuzhat al-Fuad stretched out, uncovered her face and said, “There is no god but God! Our sister Nuzhat al-Fuad is dead indeed. How sudden was the stroke of Destiny! Allah have ruth on thee and acquit thee of all charge!” Then he returned and related what had passed before the Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah, and he laughing as he spoke. “O accursed one,” cried the Caliph, “this is no time for laughter! Tell us which is dead of them.” Masrur replied, “By Allah, O my lord, Abu al-Hasan is well, and none is dead but Nuzhat al-Fuad.” Quoth the Caliph to Zubaydah, “Thou hast lost thy pavilion in thy play,” and he jeered at her and said, “O Masrur, tell her what thou sawest.” Quoth the Eunuch, “Verily, O my lady, I ran without ceasing till I came in to Abu al-Hasan in his house and found Nuzhat al-Fuad lying dead and Abu al-Hasan sitting tearful at her head. I saluted him and condoled with him and sat down by his side and uncovered the face of Nuzhat al-Fuad and saw her dead and her face swollen.71 So I said to him, ‘Carry her out forthwith, so we may pray over her.’ He replied, ‘’Tis well’; and I left him to lay her out and came hither, that I might tell you the news.” The Prince of True Believers laughed and said, “Tell it again and again to thy lady Little-wits.” When the Lady Zubaydah heard Masrur’s words and those of the Caliph she was wroth and said, “None is little of wit save he who believeth a black slave.” And she abused Masrur, whilst the Commander of the Faithful laughed: and the Eunuch, vexed at this, said to the Caliph, “He spake sooth who said, “Women are little of wits and lack religion.”72 Then said the Lady Zubaydah to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, thou sportest and jestest with me, and this slave hoodwinketh me, the better to please thee; but I will send and see which of them be dead.” And he answered, saying, “Send one who shall see which of them is dead.” So the Lady Zubaydah cried out to an old duenna, and said to her, “Hie thee to the house of Nuzhat al-Fuad in haste and see who is dead and loiter not.” And she used hard words to her.”73 So the old woman went out running, whilst the Prince of True Believers and Masrur laughed, and she ceased not running till she came into the street. Abu al-Hasan saw her, and knowing her, said to his wife, “O Nuzhat al-Fuad, meseemeth the Lady Zubaydah hath sent to us to see who is dead and hath not given credit to Masrur’s report of thy death: accordingly, she hath despatched the old crone, her duenna, to discover the truth. So it behoveth me to be dead in my turn for the sake of thy credit with the Lady Zubaydah.” Hereat he lay down and stretched himself out, and she covered him and bound his eyes and feet and sat in tears at his head. Presently the old woman came in to her and saw her sitting at Abu al-Hasan’s head, weeping and recounting his fine qualities; and when she saw the old trot, she cried out and said to her, “See what hath befallen me! Indeed Abu al-Hasan is dead and hath left me lone and lorn!” Then she shrieked out and rent her raiment and said to the crone, “O my mother, how very good he was to me!”74 Quoth the other, “Indeed thou art excused, for thou wast used to him and he to thee.” Then she considered what Masrur had reported to the Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah and said to her, “Indeed, Masrur goeth about to cast discord between the Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah.” Asked Nuzhat al-Fuad, “And what is the cause of discord, O my mother?” and the other replied, “O my daughter, Masrur came to the Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah and gave them news of thee that thou wast dead and that Abu al-Hasan was well.” Nuzhat al-Fuad said to her, “O naunty mine,75 I was with my lady just now and she gave me an hundred dinars and a piece of silk; and now see my case and that which hath befallen me! Indeed, I am bewildered, and how shall I do, and I lone, and lorn? Would heaven I had died and he had lived!” Then she wept and with her wept the old woman, who, going up to Abu al-Hasan and uncovering his face, saw his eyes bound and swollen for the swathing. So she covered him up again and said, “Indeed, O Nuzhat al-Fuad, thou art afflicted in Abu al-Hasan!” Then she condoled with her and going out from her, ran along the street until she came in to the Lady Zubaydah and related to her the story; and the Princess said to her, laughing, “Tell it over again to the Caliph, who maketh me out little of wit, and lacking of religion, and who made this ill-omened liar of a slave presume to contradict me.” Quoth Masrur, “This old woman lieth; for I saw Abu al-Hasan well and Nuzhat al-Fuad it was who lay dead.” Quoth the duenna, “’Tis thou that liest, and wouldst fain cast discord between the Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah.” And Masrur cried,’ “None lieth but thou, O old woman of ill-omen and thy lady believeth thee and she must be in her dotage.” Whereupon Lady Zubaydah cried out at him and in very sooth she was enraged with him and with his speech and shed tears. Then said the Caliph to her, “I lie and my eunuch lieth, and thou liest and thy waiting-woman lieth; so ’tis my rede we go, all four of us together, that we may see which of us telleth the truth.” Masrur said, “Come, let us go, that I may do to this ill-omened old woman evil deeds76 and deal her a sound drubbing for her lying.” And the duenna answered him, “O dotard, is thy wit like unto my wit? Indeed, thy wit is as the hen’s wit.” Masrur was incensed at her words and would have laid violent hands on her, but the Lady Zubaydah pushed him away from her and said to him, “Her truth-speaking will presently be distinguished from thy truth-speaking and her leasing from thy leasing.” Then they all four arose, laying wagers one with other, and went forth a-foot from the palace-gate and hied on till they came in at the gate of the street where Abu al-Hasan al-Khali’a dwelt. He saw them and said to his wife Nuzhat al-Fuad, “Verily, all that is sticky is not a pancake77 they cook nor every time shall the crock escape the shock. It seemeth the old woman hath gone and told her lady and acquainted her with our case and she has disputed with Masrur the Eunuch and they have laid wagers each with other about our death and are come to us, all four, the Caliph and the Eunuch and the Lady Zubaydah and the old trot.” When Nuzhat al-Fuad heard this, she started up from her outstretched, posture and asked, “How shall we do?” whereto he answered, “We will both feign ourselves dead together and stretch ourselves out and hold our breath.” So she hearkened to him and they both lay down on the place where they usually slept the siesta78 and bound their feet and shut their eyes and covered themselves with the veil and held their breath. Presently, up came the Caliph, Zubaydah, Masrur and the old woman and entering, found Abu al-Hasan the Wag and wife both stretched out as dead; which when the Lady saw, she wept and said, “They ceased not to bring ill-news of my slave-girl till she died,79 methinketh Abu al-Hasan’s death was grievous to her and that she died after him.”80 Quoth the Caliph, “Thou shalt not prevent me with thy prattle and prate. She certainly died before Abu al-Hasan, for he came to me with his raiment rent and his beard plucked out, beating his breast with two bits of unbaked brick,81 and I gave him an hundred dinars and a piece of silk and said to him, “Go, bear her forth and I will give thee a bed-fellow other than she and handsomer, and she shall be in stead of her. But it would appear that her death was no light matter to him and he died after her;82 so it is who have beaten thee and gotten thy stake.” The Lady Zubaydah answered him in words galore and the dispute between them waxed sore. At last the Caliph sat down at the head of the pair and said, “By the tomb of the Apostle of Allah (whom may He save and assain!) and the sepulchres of my fathers and forefathers, whoso will tell me which of them died before the other, I will willingly give him a thousand dinars!” when Abu al-Hasan heard the Calipih’s words, he sprang up in haste and said, “I died first, O Commander of the Faithful! Here with the thousand dinars and acquit thee of thine oath and the swear thou sworest.” Nuzhat al-Fuad rose also and stood up before the Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah, who both rejoiced in this and in their safety, and the Pricess chid her slave-girl. Then the Caliph and Zubaydah gave them joy of their well-being and knew that this death was a trick to get the gold; and the Lady said to Nuzhat al-Fuad, “Thou shouldst have sought of me that which thou needest, without this fashion, and not have burned83 my heart for thee.” And she, “Verily, I was ashamed, O my lady.” As for the Caliph, he swooned away for laughing and said, “O Abu al-Hasan, thou wilt never cease to be a wag and do peregrine things and prodigious!” Quoth he, “O Commander of the Faithful, this trick I played off for that money which thou gavest me was exhausted, and I was ashamed to ask of thee again. When I was single, I could never keep money in hand; but since thou marriedst me to this damsel, if I possessed even thy wealth, I should lay it waste. Wherefore when all that was in my hand was spent, I wrought this sleight, so I might get of thee the hundred dinars and the piece of silk; and all this is an alms from our lord. But now make haste to give me the thousand dinars and acquit thee of thine oath.” The Caliph and the Lady Zubaydah laughed and returned to the palace; and he gave Abu al-Hasan the thousand dinars saying, “Take them as a douceur84 for thy preservation from death,” whilst her mistress did the like with Nuzhat al-Fuad, honouring her with the same words. Moreover, the Caliph increased the Wag in his solde and supplies, and he and his wife ceased not to live in joy and contentment, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and Severer of societies, the Plunderer of palaces, and the Garnerer of Graves.
1 Arab. “Al-Náim wa al-Yakzán.” This excellent story is not in the Mac. Or Bresl. Edits.; but is given in the Breslau Text, iv. 134-189 (Nights cclxxii.-ccxci.). It is familiar to readers of the old “Arabian Nights Entertainments” as “Abou-Hassan or the Sleeper Awakened;” and as yet it is the only one of the eleven added by Galland whose original has been discovered in Arabic: the learned Frenchman, however, supplied it with embellishments more suo, and seems to have taken it from an original fuller than our text as is shown by sundry poetical and other passages which he apparently did not invent. Lane (vol. ii. chap. 12), noting that its chief and best portion is an historical anecdote related as a fact, is inclined to think that it is not a genuine tale of The Nights. He finds it in Al-Ishákí who finished his history about the close of Sultan Mustafá the Osmanli’s reign, circa A.H. 1032 (= 1623), and he avails himself of this version as it is “narrated in a simple and agreeable manner.” Mr. Payne remarks, “The above title (Asleep and Awake) is of course intended to mark the contrast between the everyday (or waking) hours of Aboulhusn and his fantastic life in the Khalif’s palace, supposed by him to have passed in a dream;” I may add that amongst frolicsome Eastern despots the adventure might often have happened and that it might have given a hint to Cervantes.
2 i.e., The Wag. See vol. i. 311: the old version calls him “the Debauchee.”
3 Arab. “Al-Fárs”; a people famed for cleverness and debauchery. I cannot see why Lane omitted the Persian, unless he had Persian friends at Cairo.
4 i.e., the half he intended for spending-money.
5 i.e., “men,” a characteristic Arab idiom: here it applies to the sons of all time.
6 i.e., make much of thee.
7 In Lane the Caliph is accompanied by “certain of his domestics.”
8 Arab. “Khubz Mutabbak,” = bread baked in a platter, instead of an oven, an earthen jar previously heated, to the sides of which the scones or bannocks of dough are applied: “it is lighter than oven-bread, especially if it be made thin and leavened.” See Al-Shakúrí, a medical writer quoted by Dozy.
9 In other parts of The Nights Harun al-Rashid declines wine-drinking.
10 The ’Allámah (doctissimus) Sayce (p. 212, Comparative Philology, London, Trübner, 1885) goes far back for Khalífah = a deputy, a successor. He begins with the Semitic (Hebrew?) root “Khaliph” = to change, exchange: hence “Khaleph” = agio. From this the Greeks got their {Greek text} and Cicero his “Collybus,” a money-lender.
11 Arab. “Harfúsh” (in Bresl. Edit. iv. 138, “Kharfúsh”), in popular parlance a “blackguard.” I have to thank Mr. Alexander J. Cotheal, of New York, for sending me a MS. Copy of this tale.
12 Arab. “Ta’ám,” in Egypt and Somaliland = millet seed (Holcus Sorghum) cooked in various ways. In Barbary it is applied to the local staff of life, Kuskusú, wheaten or other flour damped and granulated by hand to the size of peppercorns, and lastly steamed (as we steam potatoes), the cullender-pot being placed over a long-necked jar full of boiling water. It is served with clarified butter, shredded onions and meat; and it represents the Risotto of Northern Italy. Europeans generally find it too greasy for digestion. This Barbary staff of life is of old date and is thus mentioned by Leo Africanus in early sixth century. “It is made of a lump of Dow, first set upon the fire, in a vessel full of holes and afterwards tempered with Butter and Pottage.” So says good Master John Pory, “A Geographical Historie of Africa, by John Leo, a Moor,” London, 1600, impensis George Bishop.
13 Arab. “Bi al-Salám” (pron. “Bissalám”) = in the Peace (of Allah).
14 And would bring him bad luck if allowed to go without paying.
15 i.e., of the first half, as has been shown.
16 Arab. “Kumájah” from the Persian Kumásh = bread unleavened and baked in ashes. Egyptians use the word for bannocks of fine flour.
17 Arab. “Kalí,” our “alcali”; for this and other abstergents see vol. i. 279.
18 These lines have occurred twice in vol. i. 117 (Night xii.); I quote Mr. Payne.
19 Arab. “Yá ’llah, yá ’lláh;” vulg. Used for “Look sharp!” e.g., “Yá ’llah jári, yá walad” = Be off at once, boy.”
20 Arab. “Banj akrítashí,” a term which has occurred before.
21 A natural clock, called West Africans Cokkerapeek = Cock-speak. All the world over it is the subject of superstition: see Giles’s “Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio” (i. 177), where Miss Li, who is a devil, hears a cock crow and vanishes.
22 In Lane Al-Rashid “found at the door his young men waiting for him and ordered them to convey Abu-l-Hasan upon a mule and returned to the palace; Abu-l-Hasan being intoxicated and insensible. And when the Khaleefah had rested himself in the palace, he called for,” etc.
23 Arab. “Kursi,” Assyrian “Kussú” = throne; and “Korsái” in Aramaic (or Nabathean as Al-Mas’udi calls it), the second growth-period of the “Semitic” family, which supplanted Assyrian and Babylonian, and became, as Arabic now is, the common speech of the “Semitic” world.
24 Arab. “Makán mahjúb,” which Lane renders by “a private closet,” and Payne by a “privy place,” suggesting that the Caliph slept in a numéro cent. So, when starting for the “Trakki Campaign,” Sir Charles Napier (of Sind), in his zeal for lightening officers’ baggage, inadvertently chose a water-closet tent for his head-quarters — magno cum risu not of the staff, who had a strange fear of him, but of the multitude who had not.
25 Arab. “Dar al-Salam,” one of the seven “Gardens” into which the Mohammedan Paradise is divided. Man’s fabled happiness began in a Garden (Eden) and the suggestion came naturally that it would continue there. For the seven Heavens, see vol. viii., 111.
26 Branch of Pearl, see vol. ii. 57.
27 Arab. “Kahbah,” the lowest word (vol. i. 70), effectively used in contrast with the speaker’s surroundings.
28 Arab. “Yá kabírí,” = mon brave, my good man.
29 This exaggeration has now become familiar to English poets.
30 Like an Eastern he goes to the water-closet the first thing in the morning, or rather dawn, and then washes ceremonially before saying the first prayer. In Europe he would probably wait until after breakfast. See vol. iii. 242.
31 I have explained why an Eastern does not wash in the basin as Europeans do in vol. i. p. 241.
32 i.e., He was confused that he forgot. All Moslems know how to pray, whether they pray or not.
33 The dawn-prayer consists of only four inclinations (raka’at); two “Farz” (divinely appointed), and two Sunnah (the custom of the Apostle). For the Raka’áh see Lane, M.E. chapt. iii.; it cannot be explained without illustrations.
34 After both sets of prayers, Farz and Sunnah, the Moslem looks over his right shoulder and says, “The Peace (of Allah) be upon you and the ruth of Allah,” and repeats the words over the left shoulder. The salutation is addressed to the Guardian Angels or to the bystanders (Moslems), who, however, do not return it.
35 i.e., Ibrahim of Mosul the musician. See vol. iv. 108.
36 Arab. “Líyúth” plur. of “layth,” a lion: here warriors are meant.
37 The Abbasides traced their descent from Al-Abbas, Mohammed’s uncle, and justly held themselves as belonging to the family of the Prophet. See vol. ii. 61.
38 Arab. “Nímshah” = “half-sword.” See vol. ii. p. 193.
39 i.e., May thy dwelling-place never fall into ruin. The prayer has, strange to say, been granted. “The present city on the eastern bank of the Tigris was built by Haroun al-Rashid, and his house still stands there and is an object of reverent curiosity.” So says my friend Mr. Grattan Geary (vol. i. p. 212, “Through Asiatic Turkey,” London: Low, 1878). He also gives a sketch of Zubaydah’s tomb on the western bank of the Tigris near the suburb which represents old Baghdad; it is a pineapple dome springing from an octagon, both of brick once revetted with white stucco.
40 In the Bresl. Edit. four hundred. I prefer the exaggerated total.
41 i.e., the raised recess at the upper end of an Oriental saloon, and the place of honour, which Lane calls by its Egyptian name “Líwán.” See his vol. i. 312 and his M.E. chapt. i.: also my vol. iv. p. 71.
42 “Bit o’Musk.”
43 “A gin,” a snare.
44 “A gift,” a present. It is instructive to compare Abu al-Hasan with Sancho Panza, sprightly Arab wit with grave Spanish humour.
45 i.e., he fell down senseless. The old version has “his head knocked against his knees.”
46 Arab. “Waddi” vulg. Egyptian and Syrian for the classical “Addí” (ii. of Adú = preparing to do). No wonder that Lane complains (iii. 376) of the vulgar style, abounding in errors.”
47 O Apple, O Repose o’ Hearts, O Musk, O Choice Gift.
48 Arab. “Doghrí,” a pure Turkish word, in Egypt meaning “truly, with truth,” straightforwardly; in Syria = straight (going), directly.
49 Arab. “Máristán,” see vol. i. 288.
50 The scene is a rechauffé of Badr al-Din Hasan and his wife, i. 247.
51 Arab. “Janzír,” another atrocious vulgarism for “Zanjír,” which however, has occurred before.
52 Arab. “Arafshah.”
53 In the “Mishkát al-Masábih” (ii. 341), quoted by Lane, occurs the Hadis, “Shut your doors anights and when so doing repeat the Basmalah; for the Devil may not open a door shut in Allah’s name.” A pious Moslem in Egypt always ejaculates, “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating,” etc., when he locks a door, covers up bread, doffs his clothes, etc., to keep off devils and dæmons.
54 An Arab idiom meaning, “I have not found thy good fortune (Ka’b = heel, glory, prosperity) do me any good.”
55 Arab. “Yá Nakbah” = a calamity to those who have to do with thee!
56 Koran cxii., the “Chapter of Unity.” See vol. iii. 307
57 See vol. iii. 222.
58 Here the author indubitably speaks for himself, forgetting that he ended Night cclxxxi. (Bresl. Iv. 168), and began that following with Shahrazad’s usual formula.
59 i.e., “Delight of the vitals” (or heart).
60 The trick is a rechauffé of the trick played on Al-Rashid and Zubaydah.
61 “Kalb” here is not heart, but stomach. The big toes of the Moslem corpse are still tied in most countries, and in some a sword is placed upon the body; but I am not aware that a knife and sale (both believed to repel evil spirits) are so used in Cairo.
62 The Moslem, who may not wear unmixed silk during his lifetime, may be shrouded in it. I have noted that the “Shukkah,” or piece, averages six feet in length.
63 A vulgar ejaculation; the “hour” referring either to birth or to his being made one of the Caliph’s equerries.
64 Here the story-teller omits to say that Masrúr bore witness to the Caliph’s statement.
65 Arab. “Wa kuntu ráihah ursil warák,” the regular Fellah language.
66 Arab. “’Irk al-Háshimí.” See vol. ii. 19. Lane remarks, “Whether it was so in Hashim himself (or only in his descendants), I do not find; but it is mentioned amongst the characteristics of his great-grandson, the Prophet.”
67 Arab. “Bostán al-Nuzhah,” whose name made the stake appropriate. See vol. ii. 81.
68 Arab. “Tamásíl” = generally carved images, which, amongst Moslem, always suggest idols and idolatry.
69 The “Shubbák” here would be the “Mashrabiyah,” or latticed balcony, projecting from the saloon-wall, and containing room for three or more sitters. It is Lane’s “Mesrebeeyeh,” sketched in M.E. (Introduction) and now has become familiar to Englishmen.
70 This is to show the cleverness of Abu al-Hasan, who had calculated upon the difference between Al-Rashid and Zubaydah. Such marvels of perspicacity are frequent enough in the folk-lore of the Arabs.
71 An artful touch, showing how a tale grows by repetition. In Abu al-Hasan’s case (infra) the eyes are swollen by the swathes.
72 A Hadis attributed to the Prophet, and very useful to Moslem husbands when wives differ overmuch with them in opinion.
73 Arab. “Masarat fí-há,” which Lane renders, “And she threw money to her.”
74 A saying common throughout the world, especially when the afflicted widow intends to marry again at the first opportunity.
75 Arab. “Yá Khálati” = O my mother’s sister; addressed by a woman to an elderly dame.
76 i.e., That I may put her to shame.
77 Arab. “Zalábiyah.”
78 Arab. “‘Alá al-Kaylah,” which Mr. Payne renders by “Siesta-carpet.” Land reads “Kiblah” (“in the direction of the Kiblah”) and notes that some Moslems turn the corpse’s head towards Meccah and others the right side, including the face. So the old version reads “feet towards Mecca.” But the preposition “Alá” requires the former sig.
79 Many places in this text are so faulty that translation is mere guess-work; e.g. “Bashárah” can hardly be applied to ill-news.
80 i.e. of grief for his loss.
81 Arab. “Tobáni” which Lane renders “two clods.” I have noted that the Tob (Span. Adobe = Al-Tob) is a sunbaked brick. Beating the bosom with such material is still common amongst Moslem mourners of the lower class, and the hardness of the blow gives the measure of the grief.
82 i.e. of grief for her loss.
83 Arab. “Ihtirák” often used in the metaphorical sense of consuming, torturing.
84 Arab. “Haláwat,” lit.=a sweetmeat, a gratuity, a thank-offering.
It is said that, when the Caliphate devolved on Omar bin Abd al-Aziz86 (of whom Allah accept), the poets resorted to him, as they had been used to resort to the Caliphs before him, and abode at his door days and day, but he suffered them not to enter, till there came to him ’Abí bin Artah,87 who stood high in esteem with him. Jarír88 accosted him and begged him to crave admission for them to the presence; so Adi answered, “’Tis well;” and, going in to Omar, said to him, “The poets are at thy door and have been there days and days; yet hast thou not given them leave to enter, albeit their sayings abide89 and their arrows from mark never fly wide.” Quoth Omar, “What have I to do with the poets?” and quoth Adi, “O Commander of the Faithful, the Prophet (Abhak!)90 was praised by a poet91 and gave him largesse, and in him92 is an exemplar to every Moslem.” Quoth Omar, “And who praised him?” and quoth Adi, “’Abbás bin Mirdás93 praised him, and he clad him with a suit and said, O Generosity,94 cut off from me his tongue!” Asked the Caliph, “Dost thou remember what he said?” and Adi answered, “Yes.” Rejoined Omar, “Then repeat it;” so Adi repeated,95
“I saw thee, O thou best of human race,
Bring out a Book which brought to graceless Grace.
Thou showedst righteous road to men astray
From Right, when darkest Wrong had ta’en its place; —
Thou with Islám didst light the gloomiest way,
Quenching with proof live coals of frowardness;
I own for Prophet Mohammed’s self;
And man’s award upon his word we base;
Thou madest straight the path that crooked ran,
Where in old days foul growth o’ergrew its face.
Exalt be thou in Joy’s empyrean
And Allah’s glory ever grow apace.
“And indeed” (continued Adi), “this Elegy on the Prophet (Abhak!) is well known and to comment it would be tedious.” Quoth Omar “Who is at the door?” and quoth Adi, “Among them is Omar ibn Abi Rabí’ah, the Korashí;96 whereupon the Caliph cried, “May Allah show him no favour neither quicken him! Was it not he who said these verses,
‘Would Heaven what day Death shall visit me
I smell as thy droppings and drippings97 smell!
Could I in my clay-bed on Salmá lie
There to me were better than Heaven or Hell!’
“Had he not been” (continued the Caliph) “the enemy of Allah, he had wished for her in this world, so he might after repent and return to righteous dealing. By Allah, he shall not come in to me! who is at the door other than he?” Quoth Adi, “Jamíl bin ma’mar al-Uzri98 is at the door;” and quoth Omar, “’Tis he who saith in one of his elegies,
‘Would Heaven conjoint we lived, and if I die
Death only grant me a grave within her grave:
For I’d no longer deign to live my life
If told upon her head is laid the pave.’”99
Quoth Omar, “Away with him from me! Who is at the door?” and quoth Adi, “Kuthayyir ’Assah”100; whereupon Omar cried, “’Tis he who saith in one of his odes,
‘Some talk of faith and creed and nothing else
And wait for pains of Hell in prayer-seat;101
But did they hear what I from Azzah heard,
They’d make prostration, fearfull at her feet.’
“Leave the mention of him. Who is at the door?” Quoth Adi, “Al-Ahwas al-’Ansárí.”102 Cried Omar, “Allah Almighty put him away and estrange him from His mercy! Is it not he who said, berhyming on a Medinite’s slave-girl, so she might outlive her lord,
‘Allah be judge betwixt me and her lord!
Who ever flies with her and I pursue.’
“He shall not come in to me. Who is at the door, other than he?” Adi replied, “Hammám bin Ghálib al-Farazdak;”103 and Omar said, “’Tis he who saith, glorying in whoring,
‘Two girls let me down eighty fathoms deep,
As low sweeps a falcon wi’ pinions spread;
And cried; as my toes touched the ground, ‘Dost live
To return, or the fall hath it done thee dead?
“He shall not come in to me. Who is at the door, other than he?” Adi replied, “Al-Akhtal al-Taghlibí”104 and Omar said, “He is the Miscreant who saith in his singing,
‘Ramazan I ne’er fasted in life-time; nay
I ate flesh in public at undurn day;105
Nor chide I the fair, save in way of love,
Nor seek Meccah’s plain106 in salvation-way:
Nor stand I praying like rest who cry
‘Hie salvationwards’107 at the dawn’s first ray.
But I drink her cooled108 by fresh Northern breeze
And my head at dawn to her prone I lay.’109
“By Allah, he treadeth no carpet of mine! who is at the door, other than he?” Said Adi, “Jarír ibn al-Khatafah”; and Omar cried, “’Tis he who saith,
‘But for ill-spying glances had our eyes espied
Eyne of the antelope and ringlets of the Reems.110
A huntress of the eyes111 by night-tide came and I
Cried, ‘Turn in peace, no time for visit this, meseems!’
“An it must be and no help, admit Jarir.” So Adi went forth and admitted Jarir, who entered, saying.
“Yea, he who sent Mohammed unto man,
A just successor for Imám112 assigned.
His ruth and justice all mankind embrace,
To daunt the bad and stablish well-designed.
Verily now I look to present good,
For man hath ever-transient weal in mind.”
Quoth Omar, “O Jarir, keep the fear of Allah before thine eyes and say naught save the sooth.” And Jarir recited these couplets,
“How many widows loose the hair in far Yamámah-land113
How many an orphan there abides feeble of voice and eye,
Since faredst thou who wast to them instead of father lost
When they like nested fledglings were sans power to creep or fly!
And now we hope, since brake the clouds their word and troth with us,
Hope from the Caliph’s grace to gain a rain114 that ne’er shall dry.”
When the Caliph heard this, he said, “By Allah, O Jarir, Omar possesseth but an hundred dirhams.115 Ho, boy! do thou give them to him.” Moreover he gifted him with the ornaments of his sword; and Jarir went forth to the other poets, who asked him, “What is behind thee?”116 and he answered, “A man who giveth to the poor and denieth the poets, and with him I am well-pleased.”
85 Bresl. Edit., vol. vi. Pp. 182-188, Nights ccccxxxii.-ccccxxxiv.
86 “The good Caliph” and the fifth of the Orthodox, the other four being Abu Bakr, Omar, Osman and Ali; and omitting the eight intervening, Hasan the grandson of the Prophet included. He was the 13th Caliph and 8th Ommiade A.H. 99-101 (=717-720) and after a reign of three years he was poisoned by his kinsmen of the Banu Umayyah who hated him for his piety, asceticism, and severity in making them disgorge their ill-gotten gains. Moslem historians are unanimous in his praise. Europeans find him an anachorète couronné, à froide et respectable figure, who lacked the diplomacy of Mu’awiyah and the energy of Al-Hajjáj. His principal imitator was Al-Muhtadi bi’lláh, who longed for a return to the rare old days of Al-Islam.
87 Omar ’Adi bin Artah; governor of Kufah and Basrah under “the good Caliph.”
88 Jarír al-Khatafah, one of the most famous of the “Islámí” poets, i.e. those who wrote in the first century (A.H.) before the corruption of language began. (See Terminal Essay, p. 230). Ibn Khallikan notices him at full length i. 294.
89 Arab. “Bákiyah,” which may also mean eternal as opposed to “Fániyah” = temporal. Omar’s answer shows all the narrow-minded fanaticism which distinguished the early Moslems: they were puritanical as any Praise-God-Barebones, and they hated “boetry and bainting” as hotly as any Hanoverian.
90 The Saturday Review (Jan. 2, ’86), which has honoured me by the normal reviling in the shape of a critique upon my two first vols., complains of the “Curious word Abhak” as “a perfectly arbitrary and unusual group of Latin letters.” May I ask Aristarchus how he would render “Sal’am” (vol ii. 24), which apparently he would confine to “Arabic MSS.”(!). Or would he prefer A(llah) b(less) h(im) a(nd) k(eep) “W.G.B.” (whom God bless) as proposed by the editor of Ockley? But where would be the poor old “Saturnine” if obliged to do better than the authors it abuses?
91 He might have said “by more than one, including the great Labíd.”
92 Fí-hi either “in him” (Mohammed) or “in it” (his action).
93 Chief of the Banu Sulaym. According to Tabari, Abbas bin Mirdas (a well-known poet), being dissatisfied with the booty allotted to him by the Prophet, refused it and lampooned Mohammed, who said to Ali, “Cut off this tongue which attacketh me,” i.e. “Silence him by giving what will satisfy him.” Thereupon Ali doubled the Satirist’s share.
94 Arab. “Yá Bilál”: Bilal ibn Rabah was the Prophet’s freedman and crier: see vol. iii. 106. But bilal also signifies “moisture” or “beneficence,” “benefits”: it may be intended for a double entendre but I prefer the metonymy.
95 The verses of this Kasidah are too full of meaning to be easily translated: it is fine old poetry.
96 i.e. of the Koraysh tribe. For his disorderly life see Ibn Khallikan ii. 372: he died, however, a holy death, battling against the Infidels in A.H. 93 (= 711-12), some five years before Omar’s reign.
97 Arab. “Bayn farsi-k wa ’l-damí” = lit. between fæces and menses, i.e., the foulest part of his mistress’s person. It is not often that The Nights are “nasty”; but here is a case. See vol. v. 162.
98 “Jamil the Poet,” and lover of Buthaynah: see vol. ii. 102, Ibn Khallikan (i.331), and Al-Mas’udi vi. 381, who quotes him copiously. He died A.H. 82 (= 701), or sixteen years before Omar’s reign.
99 Arab. “Safíh” = the slab over the grave.
100 A contemporary and friend of Jamíl and the famous lover of Azzah. See vol. ii. 102, and Al-Mas’udi, vi. 426. The word “Kuthayyir” means “the dwarf.” Term. Essay, 231.
101 i.e. in the attitude of prayer.
102 In Bresl. Edit. “Al-Akhwass,” clerical error, noticed in Ibn Khallikan i. 526. His satires banished him to Dahlak Island in the Red Sea, and he died A.H. 179 (= 795-96).
103 Another famous poet Abú Firás Hammám or Humaym (dimin. Form), as debauched as Jarir, who died forty days before him in A.H. 110 (= 728-29), as Basrah. Cf. Term. Essay, 231.
104 A famous Christian poet. See C. de Perceval, Journ. Asiat. April, 1834, Ibn Khallikan iii. 136, and Term. Essay, 231.
105 The poet means that unlike other fasters he eats meat openly. See Pilgrimage (i. 110), for the popular hypocrisy.
106 Arab. “Bathá” the lowlands and plains outside the Meccan Valley. See al-Mas’udi, vi. 157. Mr. (now Sir) W. Muir in his Life of Mahomet, vol. i., p. ccv., remarks upon my Pilgrimage (iii.252) that in placing Arafat 12 miles from Meccah, I had given 3 miles to Muna, + 3 to Muzdalifah + 3 to Arafat = 9. But the total does not include the suburbs of Meccah and the breadth of the Arafat-Valley.
107 The words of the Azán, vol. i. 306.
108 Wine in Arabic is feminine, “Shamúl” = liquor hung in the wind to cool, a favourite Arab practice often noticed by the poets.
109 i.e. I will fall down dead drunk.
110 Arab. “Árám,” plur. of Irm, a beautiful girl, a white deer. The word is connected with the Heb. Reem (Deut. xxxiii. 17), which has been explained unicorn, rhinoceros, and aurochs. It is at the Ass. Rimu, the wild bull of the mountains, provided with a human face, and placed at the palace-entrance to frighten away foes, demon or human.
111 i.e. she who ensnares [all] eyes.
112 Imam, the spiritual title of the Caliph, as head of the Faith and leader (lit. “foreman,” Antistes) of the people at prayer. See vol. iv. 111.
113 For Yamámah see vol. ii. 104. Omar bin Abd-al-Aziz was governor of the province before he came to the Caliphate. To the note on Zarká, the blue-eyed Yamamite, I may add that Marwan was called Ibn Zarká, son of “la femme au drapeu bleu,” such being the sign of a public prostitute. Al-Mas’udi, v. 509.
114 Rain and bounty, I have said, are synonymous.
115 About £4.
116 i.e. what is thy news.
They tell that Al-Hajjáj118 once bade the Chief of Police go his rounds about Bassorah city by night, and whomsoever he found abroad after supper-tide that he should smite his neck. So he went round one night of the nights and came upon three youths swaying and staggering from side to side, and on them signs of wine-bibbing. So the watch laid hold of them and the captain said to them, “Who be you that ye durst transgress the commandment of the Commander of the Faithful119 and come abroad at this hour?” quoth one of the youths, “I am the son of him to whom all necks120 abase themselves, alike the nose-pierced of them and the breaker; they come to him in their own despite, abject and submissive, and he taketh of their wealth and of their blood.” The Master of Police held his hand from him,, saying, “Belike he is of the kinsman of the Prince of True Believers,” and said to the second, “Who art thou?” Quoth he, “I am the son of him whose rank121 Time abaseth not, and if it be lowered one day, ’twill assuredly return to its former height; thou seest the folk crowd in troops to the light of his fire, some standing around it and some sitting.” So the Chief of Police refrained from slaying him and asked the third, “Who art thou?” He answered, I am the son of him who plungeth through the ranks122 with his might and levelleth them with the sword, so that they stand straight; his feet are not loosed from the stirrup, whenas the horsemen on the day of the battle are a-weary.” So the Master of the Police held his hand from him also, saying, “Belike, he is the son of a Brave of the Arabs. Then he kept them under guard, and when the morning morrowed, he referred their case to Al-Hajjaj, who caused bring them before him and enquiring into their affair, when behold, the first was the son of a barber-surgeon, the second of a bean-seller, and the third of a weaver. So he marvelled at their eloquent readiness of speech and said to the men of his assembly, “Teach your sons the rhetorical use of Arabic:123 for, by Allah, but for their ready wit, I had smitten off their heads!”
117 Bresl. Edit., vol. vi. pp. 188-9, Night ccccxxxiv.
118 Of this masterful personage and his energie indomptable I have spoken in vol. iv. 3, and other places. I may add that he built Wásit city A.H. 83 and rendered eminent services to literature and civilization amongst the Arabs. When the Ommiade Caliph Abd al-Malik was dying he said to his son Walid, “Look to Al-Hajjaj and honour him for, verily, he it is who hath covered for you the pulpits; and he is thy sword and thy right hand against all opponents; thou needest him more than he needeth thee, and when I die summon the folk to the covenant of allegiance; and he who saith with his head — thus, say thou with thy sword — thus” (Al-Siyuti, p 225) yet the historian simply observes, “the Lord curse him.”
119 i.e. given through his lieutenant.
120 “Necks” per synecdochen for heads. The passage is a description of a barber-surgeon in a series of double-entendres the “nose-pierced” (Makhzúm) is the subject who is led by the nose like a camel with halter and ring and the “breaker” (háshim) may be a breaker of bread as the word originally meant, or breaker of bones. Lastly the “wealth” (mál) is a recondite allusion to the hair.
121 Arab. “Kadr” which a change of vowel makes “Kidr” = a cooking-pot. The description is that of an itinerant seller of boiled beans (Fúl mudammas) still common in Cairo. The “light of his fire” suggests a double-entendre some powerful Chief like masterful King Kulayb. See vol. ii. 77.
122 Arab. “Al-Sufúf,” either ranks of fighting-men or the rows of thread on a loom. Here the allusion is to a weaver who levels and corrects his threads with the wooden spate and shuttle governing warp and weft and who makes them stand straight (behave aright). The “stirrup” (rikáb) is the loop of cord in which the weaver’s foot rests.
123 “Adab.” See vols. i. 132, and ix. 41.
They tell125 that Harun Al-Rashid was sitting one day to abate grievances, when there came up to him a woman and said, “O Commander of the Faithful, may Allah perfect thy purpose and gladden thee in whatso He hath given thee and increase thee in elevation! Indeed, thou hast done justice and wrought equitably.” 126 Quoth the Caliph to those who were present with him, “Know ye what this one means by her saying?” and quoth they, “Of a surety, she meaneth not otherwise than well, O Prince of True Believers.” Al-Rashid rejoined: “Nay, in this she purposeth only to curse me. As for her saying, ‘Allah perfect thy purpose,’ she hath taken it from the saying of the poet,
‘When thy purpose is effected beginneth its decay;
when they say ‘Thy wish is won’ feel thou sure ’twill pass away.’
As for her saying ‘Allah gladden thee in whatso He hath given thee,’ she took it from the saying of Almighty Allah,127 ‘Till, whenas they were gladdened in that they were given, We suddenly laid hold of them and lo, they were in despair!’ As for her saying, ‘Allah increase thee in elevation!’ she took it from the saying of the poet:—
‘No flier flieth however tall
but as he flieth shall come to fall.’
And as for her saying, ‘Indeed, thou hast done justice and wrought equitably, ’tis from the saying of the Almighty, ‘If ye swerve128 or lag behind or turn aside, verily, Allah of that which ye do is well aware;’ and ‘As for the swervers129 they are fuel for Hell.’” Then he turned to the woman and asked her, “Is it not thus?” answered she, “Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,” and quoth he, “What prompted thee to this?” Quoth she, “Thou slewest my parents and my kinsfolk and despoiledst their good.” Enquired the Caliph, “Whom meanest thou?” and she replied, “I am of the House of Barmak.” Then said he to her, “As for the dead, they are of those who are past away, and it booteth not to speak of them; but, as for that which I took of wealth, it shall forthright be restored to thee, yea, and more than it.” And he was bountiful to her to the uttermost of his bounties.
124 Bresl. Edit., vol. vi. pp. 189-191, Night ccccxxxiv.
125 Arab. “Za’mú,” a word little used in the Cal., Mac. or Bul. Edit.; or in the Wortley Montague MS.; but very common in the Bresl. text.
126 More double-entendres. “Thou hast done justice” (’adalta) also means “Thou hast swerved from right;” and “Thou hast wrought equitably” (Akasta iv. of Kast) = “Thou hast transgressed.”
127 Koran vi. 44. Allah is threatening unbelievers, “And when they had forgotten their warnings We set open to them the gates of all things, until, when they were gladdened,” etc.
128 Arab. “Ta’dilú,” also meaning, “Ye do injustice”: quoted from Koran iv. 134.
129 Arab. “Al-Kásitúna,” before explained. Koran lxxii. 15.
There was once, of old days, a king of the kings, whose name was Azádbakht; his capital was hight Kunaym Madúd131 and his kingdom extended to the confines of Sístán132 and from the confines of Hindostan to the Indian Ocean. He had ten Wazirs, who ordered his kingship and his dominion, and he was possessed of judgment and exceeding wisdom. One day he went forth with certain of his guards to the chase and fell in with an Eunuch riding a mare and hending in hand the halter of a she-mule, which he led along. On the mule’s back was a domed litter of brocade purfled with gold and girded with an embroidered band set with pearls and gems, and about it was a company of Knights. When King Azadbakht saw this, he separated himself from his suite and, making for the horsemen and that mule, questioned them, saying, “To whom belongeth this litter and what is therein?” The Eunuch answered (for he knew not that the speaker was King Azadbakht), saying, “This litter belongeth to Isfahand, Wazir to King Azadbakht, and therein is his daughter, whom he is minded to marry to the King hight Zád Sháh.”
As the Eunuch was speaking with the king, behold, the maiden raised a corner of the curtain that shut in the litter, so she might look upon the speaker, and saw the king. When Azadbakht beheld her and noted her fashion and her loveliness (and indeed never did seer133 espy her like), his soul inclined to her and she took hold upon his heart and he was ravished by her sight. So he said to the Eunuch, “Turn the mule’s head and return, for I am King Azadbakht and in very sooth I will marry her myself, inasmuch as Isfahand her sire is my Wazir and he will accept of this affair and it will not be hard to him.” Answered the Eunuch, “O king, Allah prolong thy continuance, have patience till I acquaint my lord her parent, and thou shalt wed her in the way of consent, for it befitteth thee not, neither is it seemly for thee, to seize her on this wise, seeing that it will be an affront to her father an if thou take her without his knowledge.” Quoth Azadbakht, ‘I have not patience to wait till thou repair to her sire and return, and no shame will betide him, if I marry her.” And quoth the eunuch, “O my lord, naught that in haste is done long endureth nor doth the heart rejoice therein; and indeed it behoveth thee not to take her on this unseemly wise. Whatsoever betideth thee, destroy not thyself with haste, for I know that her sire’s breast will be straitened by this affair and this that thou dost will not win thy wish.” But the king said, “Verily, Isfahand is my Mameluke and a slave of my slaves, and I reck not of her father, an he be fain or unfain.” So saying, he drew the reins of the mule and carrying the damsel, whose name was Bahrjaur,134 to his house, married her. Meanwhile, the Eunuch betook himself, he and the knights, to her sire and said to him, “O my lord, thou hast served the king a-many years’ service and thou hast not failed him a single day; and now he hath taken thy daughter without thy consent and permission.” And he related to him what had passed and how the king had seized her by force. When Isfahand heard the eunuch’s words, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and assembling many troops, said to them, “Whenas the king was occupied with his women135 we took no reck of him; but now he putteth out his hand to our Harim; wherefore ‘tis my rede that we look us out a place wherein we may have sanctuary.” Then he wrote a letter to King Azadbakht, saying to him, “I am a Mameluke of thy Mamelukes and a slave of thy slaves and my daughter at thy service is a hand-maid, and Almighty Allah prolong thy days and appoint thy times to be in joy and gladness! Indeed, I went ever waist-girded in thy service and in caring to conserve thy dominion and warding off from thee all thy foes; but now I abound yet more than erewhile in zeal and watchfulness, because I have taken this charge upon myself, since my daughter is become thy wife.” And he despatched a courier to the king with the letter and a present. When the messenger came to King Azadbakht and he read the letter and the present was laid before him, he rejoiced with joy exceeding and occupied himself with eating and drinking, hour after hour. But the chief Wazir of his Wazirs came to him and said, “O king, know that Isfahand the Wazir is thine enemy, for that his soul liketh not that which thou hast done with him, and this message he hath sent thee is a trick; so rejoice thou not therein, neither be thou misled by the sweets of his say and the softness of his speech.” The king hearkened to his Wazir’s speech, but presently made light of the matter and busied himself with that which he was about of eating and drinking, pleasuring and merrymaking. Meanwhile, lsfahand the Wazir wrote a letter and sent it to all the Emirs, acquainting them with that which had betided him from King Azadbakht and how he had forced his daughter, adding, “And indeed he will do with you more than he hath done with me.” When the letter reached the chiefs,136 they all assembled together to Isfahand and said to him, “What was his affair?”137 Accordingly he discovered to them the matter of his daughter and they all agreed, of one accord, to strive for the slaughter of the king; and, taking horse with their troops, they set out to seek him. Azadbakht knew naught till the noise of the revolt beset his capital city, when he said to his wife Bahrjaur, “How shall we do?” She answered, “Thou knowest best and I am at thy commandment;” so he bade fetch two swift horses and bestrode one himself, whilst his wife mounted the other. Then they took what they could of gold and went forth, flying through the night to the desert of Karmán;138 while Isfahand entered the city and made himself king. Now King Azadbakht’s wife was big with child and the labour pains took her in the mountain; so they alighted at the foot, by a spring of water, and she bare a boy as he were the moon. Bahrjaur his mother pulled off a coat of gold-woven brocade and wrapped the child therein, and they passed the night in that place, she giving him the breast till morning. Then said the king to her, “We are hampered by this child and cannot abide here nor can we carry him with us; so methinks we had better leave him in this stead and wend our ways, for Allah is able to send him one who shall take him and rear him.” So they wept over him with exceeding sore weeping and left him beside the fountain, wrapped in that coat of brocade: then they laid at his head a thousand gold pieces in a bag and mounting their horses, fared forth and fled. Now, by the ordinance of the Most High Lord, a company of highway robbers fell upon a caravan hard by that mountain and despoiled them of what was with them of merchandise. Then they betook themselves to the highlands, so they might share their loot, and looking at the foot thereof, espied the coat of brocade: so they descended to see what it was, and behold, it was a boy wrapped therein and the gold laid at his head. They marvelled and said, “Praised be Allah! By what misdeed cometh this child here?” Thereupon they divided the money between them and the captain139 of the highwaymen took the boy and made him his son and fed him with sweet milk and dates,140 till he came to his house, when he appointed a nurse for rearing him. Meanwhile, King Azadbakht and his wife stayed not in their flight till they came to the court of the King of Fars, whose name was Kisra141. When they presented themselves to him, he honoured them with all honour and entertained them with handsomest entertainment, and Azadbakht told him his tale from incept to conclusion. So he gave him a mighty power and wealth galore and he abode with him some days till he was rested, when he made ready with his host and setting out for his own dominions, waged war with Isfahand and falling in upon the capital, defeated the whilome Minister and slew him. Then he entered the city and sat down on the throne of his kingship; and whenas he was rested and his kingdom waxed peaceful for him, he despatched messengers to the mountain aforesaid in search of the child; but they returned and informed the king that they had not found him. As time ran on, the boy, the son of the king, grew up and fell to cutting the way142 with the highwaymen, and they used to carry him with them, whenever they went banditing. They sallied forth one day upon a caravan in the land of Sistan, and there were in that caravan strong men and valiant, and with them a mighty store of merchandise. Now they had heard that in that land banditti abounded: so they gathered themselves together and gat ready their weapons and sent out spies, who returned and gave them news of the plunderers. Accordingly, they prepared for battle, and when the robbers drew near the caravan, they fell upon them and the twain fought a sore fight. At last the caravan-folk overmastered the highwaymen by dint of numbers, and slew some of them, whilst the others fled. They also took the boy, the son of King Azadbakht, and seeing him as he were the moon, a model of beauty and loveliness, bright of face and engraced with grace, asked him, “Who is thy father, and how camest thou with these banditti?” And he answered, saying, “I am the son of the Captain of the highwaymen.” So they seized him and carried him to the capital of his sire, King Azadbakht. When they reached the city, the king heard of their coming and commanded that they should attend him with what befitted of their goods. Accordingly they presented themselves before him, and the boy with them, whom when the king saw, he asked them, “To whom belongeth this boy?” and they answered, “O King, we were going on such a road, when there came out upon us a sort of robbers; so we fought them and beat them off and took this boy prisoner. Then we questioned him, saying, Who is thy sire? and he replied, I am the son of the robber-captain.” Quoth the king, “I would fain have this boy;” and quoth the captain of the caravan, “Allah maketh thee gift of him, O king of the age, and we all are thy slaves.” Then the king (who was not aware that the boy was his son) dismissed the caravan and bade carry the lad into his palace, and he became as one of the pages, while his sire the king still knew not that he was his child. As the days rolled on, the king observed in him good breeding and understanding and handiness galore and he pleased him; so he committed his treasuries to his charge and shortened the Wazir’s hand therefrom, commanding that naught should be taken forth save by leave of the youth. On this wise he abode a number of years and the king saw in him only good conduct and the habit of righteousness. Now the treasuries had been aforetime in the hands of the Wazirs to do with them whatso they would, and when they came under the youth’s hand, that of the Ministers was shortened from them, and he became dearer than a son to the king, who could not support being separated from him. When the Wazirs saw this, they were jealous of him and envied him and sought a device against him whereby they might oust him from the King’s eye,143 but found no means. At last, when Fate descended,144 it chanced that the youth one day of the days drank wine and became drunken and wandered from his right wits; so he fell to going round about within the king’s palace and Destiny led him to the lodging of the women, in which there was a little sleeping chamber, where the king lay with his wife. Thither came the youth and entering the dormitory, found there a spread couch, to wit, a sleeping-place: so he cast himself on the bed, marvelling at the paintings that were in the chamber, which was lighted by one waxen taper. Presently he fell asleep and slumbered heavily till eventide, when there came a hand-maid, bringing with her as of wont all the dessert, eatables and drinkables, usually made ready for the king and his wife, and seeing the youth lying on his back (and none knowing of his case and he in his drunkenness unknowing where he was), thought that he was the king asleep on his couch; so she set the censing-vessel and laid the perfumes by the bedding, then shut the door and went her ways. Soon after this, the king arose from the wine-chamber and taking his wife by the hand, repaired with her to the chamber in which he slept. He opened the door and entered when, lo and behold! he saw the youth lying on the bed, whereupon he turned to his wife and said to her, “What doth this youth here? This fellow cometh not hither save on thine account.” Said she. “I have no knowledge of him.” Hereupon the youth awoke and seeing the king, sprang up and prostrated himself before him, and Azadbakht said to him, “O vile of birth,145 O traitor of unworth, what hath driven thee to my dwelling?” And he bade imprison him in one place and the Queen in another.
When the morning morrowed and the king sat on the throne of his kingship, he summoned his Grand Wazir, the Premier of all his Ministers, and said to him, “How seest thou the deed this robber-youth hath done?146 He hath entered my Harim and lain down on my couch and I fear lest there be an object between him and the woman. What deemest thou of the affair?” Said the Wazir, “Allah prolong the king’s continuance! What sawest thou in this youth?147 Is he not ignoble of birth, the son of thieves? Needs must a thief revert to his vile origin, and whoso reareth the serpent’s brood shall get of them naught but biting. As for the woman, she is not at fault; since from time ago until now, nothing appeared from her except good breeding and modest bearing; and at this present, an the king give me leave, I will go to her and question her, so I may discover to thee the affair.” The king gave him leave for this and the Wazir went to the Queen and said to her, “I am come to thee, on account of a grave shame, and I would fain have thee soothfast with me in speech and tell me how came the youth into the sleeping-chamber.” Quoth she, “I have no knowledge whatsoever of it, no, none at all,” and sware to him a binding oath to that intent, whereby he knew that the woman had no inkling of the affair, nor was in fault and said to her, “I will show thee a sleight, wherewith thou mayst acquit thyself and thy face be whitened before the king.” Asked she, “What is it?” and he answered, “When the king calleth for thee and questioneth thee of this, say thou to him, ‘Yonder youth saw me in the boudoir-chamber and sent me a message, saying, ‘I will give thee an hundred grains of gem for whose price money may not suffice, so thou wilt suffer me to enjoy thee.’ I laughed at him who bespake me with such proposal and rebuffed him; but he sent again to me, saying, ‘An thou consent not thereto, I will come one of the nights, drunken, and enter and lie down in the sleeping-chamber, and the king will see me and slay me; so wilt thou be put to shame and thy face shall be blackened with him and thine honour dishonoured.’ Be this thy saying to the king, and I will fare to him forthright and repeat this to him.” Quoth the Queen, “And I also will say thus.” Accordingly, the Minister returned to the king and said to him, “Verily, this youth hath merited grievous pains and penalties after the abundance of thy bounty, and no kernel which is bitter can ever wax sweet;148 but, as for the woman, I am certified that there is no default in her.” Thereupon he repeated to the king the story which he had taught the Queen, which when Azadbakht heard, he rent his raiment and bade the youth be brought. So they fetched him and set him before the king, who bade summon the Sworder, and the folk all fixed their eyes upon the youth, to the end that they might see what the Sovran should do with him. Then said Azadbakht to him (and his words were words of anger and the speech of the youth was reverent and well-bred), “I bought thee with my money and looked for fidelity from thee, wherefore I chose thee over all my Grandees and Pages and made thee Keeper of my treasuries. Why, then, hast thou outraged mine honour and entered my house and played traitor with me and tookest thou no thought of all I have done thee of benefits?” Replied the youth, “O king, I did this not of my choice and freewill and I had no business in being there; but, of the lack of my luck, I was driven thither, for that Fate was contrary and fair Fortune failed me. Indeed, I had endeavoured with all endeavour that naught of foulness should come forth me and I kept watch and ward over myself, lest default foreshow in me; and none may withstand an ill chance, nor doth striving profit against adverse Destiny, as appeareth by the example of the merchant who was stricken with ill luck and his endeavour availed him naught and he fell by the badness of his fortune.” The king asked, “What is the story of the merchant and how was his luck changed upon him by the sorriness of his doom?” Answered the youth, “May Allah prolong the king’s continuance!” and began
130 Bresl. Edit. vol. vi. pp. 191-343, Nights ccccxxxv-cccclxxxvii. This is the old Persian Bakhtyár Námeh, i.e., the Book of Bakhtyar, so called from the prince and hero “Fortune’s Friend.” In the tale of Jili’ad and Shimas the number of Wazirs is seven, as usual in the Sindibad cycle. Here we have the full tale as advised by the Imám al-Jara’í: “it is meet for a man before entering upon important undertakings to consult ten intelligent friends; if he have only five to apply twice to each; if only one, ten times at different visits, and if none, let him repair to his wife and consult her; and whatever she advises him to do let him do the clear contrary” (quoting Omar), or as says Tommy Moore,
Whene’er you’re in doubt, said a sage I once knew,
’Twixt two lines of conduct which course to pursue,
Ask a woman’s advice, and whate’er she advise
Do the very reverse, and you’re sure to be wise.
The Romance of the Ten Wazirs occurs in dislocated shape in the “Nouveaux Contes Arabes, ou Supplément aux Mille et une Nuits,” etc., par M. l’Abbé * * * Paris, 1788. It is the “Story of Bohetzad (Bakht-zád=Luck-born, v.p.), and his Ten Viziers,” in vol. iii., pp. 2-30 of the “Arabian Tales,” etc., published by Dom Chavis and M. Cazotte, in 1785; a copy of the English translation by Robert Heron, Edinburgh, 1792, I owe to the kindness of Mr. Leonard Smithers of Sheffield. It appears also in vol. viii. of M. C. de Perceval’s Edition of The Nights; in Gauttier’s Edition (vol. vi.), and as the “Historia Decem Vizirorum et filii Regis Azad-bacht,” text and translation by Gustav Knös, of Goettingen (1807). For the Turkish, Malay and other versions see (p. xxxviii. etc.) “The Bakhtiy~r N~ma,” etc. Edited (from the Sir William. Ouseley version of 1801) by Mr. W. A. Clouston and privately printed, London, 1883. The notes are valuable but their worth is sadly injured by the want of an index. I am pleased to see that Mr. E. J. W. Gibb is publishing the “History of the Forty Vezirs; or, the Story of the Forty Morns and Eves,” written in Turkish by “Sheykh-Zadah,” evidently a nom de plume (for Ahmad al-Misri?), and translated from an Arabic MS. which probably dated about the xvth century.
131 In Chavis and Cazotte, the “kingdom of Dineroux (comprehending all Syria and the isles of the Indian Ocean) whose capital was Issessara.” An article in the Edinburgh Review (July, 1886), calls the “Supplement” a “bare-faced forgery”; but evidently the writer should have “read up” his subject before writing.
132 The Persian form; in Arab. Sijistán, the classical Drangiana or province East of Fars=Persia proper. It is famed in legend as the feof of hero Rustam.
133 Arab. Ráwi=a professional tale-teller, which Mr. Payne justly holds to be a clerical error for “Rái, a beholder, one who seeth.”
134 In Persian the name would be Bahr-i-Jaur=“luck” (or fortune, “bahr”) of Jaur- (or Júr-) city.
135 Supply “and cared naught for his kingdom.”
136 Arab. “Atráf,” plur. of “Tarf,” a great and liberal lord.
137 Lit. “How was,” etc. Kayf is a favourite word not only in the Bresl. Edit., but throughout Egypt and Syria. Classically we should write “Má;” vulgarly “Aysh.”
138 Karmania vulg. and fancifully derived from Kirmán Pers.=worms because the silkworm is supposed to have been bred there; but the name is of far older date as we find the Asiatic Aethiopians of Herodotus (iii. 93) lying between the Germanii (Karman) and the Indus. Also Karmanía appears in Strabo and Sinus Carmanicus in other classics.
139 Arab. “Ka’íd”; lit.=one who sits with, a colleague, hence the Span. Alcayde; in Marocco it is=colonel, and is prefixed e.g. Ka’íd Maclean.
140 A favourite food; Al-Hariri calls the dates and cream, which were sold together in bazars, the “Proud Rider on the desired Steed.”
141 In Bresl. Edit. vi. 198 by misprint “Kutrú”: Chavis and Cazotte have “Kassera.” In the story of Bihkard we find a P.N. “Yatrú.”
142 i.e. waylaying travellers, a term which has often occurred.
143 i.e. the royal favour.
144 i.e. When the fated hour came down (from Heaven).
145 As the Nights have proved in many places, the Asl (origin) of a man is popularly held to influence his conduct throughout life. So the Jeweller’s wife (vol. ix.) was of servile birth, which accounted for her vile conduct; and reference is hardly necessary to a host of other instances. We can trace the same idea in the sayings and folk-lore of the West, e.g. Bon sang ne peut mentir, etc., etc.
146 i.e. “What deemest thou he hath done?”
147 The apodosis wanting “to make thee trust in him?”
148 In the Braj Bákhá dialect of Hindi, we find quoted in the Akhlák-i-Hindi, “Tale of the old Tiger and the Traveller”:—
Jo jáko paryo subháo jáe ná jío-sun;
Ním na mitho hoe sichh gur ghio sun.
Ne’er shall his nature fall a man whate’er that nature be,
The Ním-tree bitter shall remain though drenched with Gur and Ghí.
The Ním (Melia Azadirachta) is the “Persian lilac” whose leaves, intensely bitter, are used as a preventive to poison: Gur is the Anglo-Indian Jaggeri=raw sugar and Ghi clarified butter. Roebuck gives the same proverb in Hindostani.
There was once a merchant man, who prospered in trade, and at one time his every dirham won him fifty. Presently, his luck turned against him and he knew it not; so he said to himself, “I have wealth galore, yet do I toil and travel from country to country; so better had I abide in my own land and rest myself in my own house from this travail and trouble and sell and buy at home.” Then he made two parts of his money, and with one bought wheat in summer, saying, “Whenas winter cometh, I shall sell it at a great profit.” But, when the cold set in wheat fell to half the price for which he had purchased it, whereat he was concerned with sore chagrin and left it till the next year. However, the price then fell yet lower and one of his intimates said to him, “Thou hast no luck in this wheat; so do thou sell it at whatsoever price.” Said the merchant, “Ah, long have I profited! so ’tis allowable that I lose this time. Allah is all-knowing! An it abide with me ten full years, I will not sell it save for a gaining bargain.”150 Then he walled up in his anger the granary-door with clay, and by the ordinance of Allah Almighty, there came a great rain and descended from the terrace-roofs of the house wherein was the wheat so that the grain rotted; and the merchant had to pay the porters from his purse five hundred dirhams for them to carry it forth and cast it without the city, the smell of it having become fulsome. So his friend said to him, “How often did I tell thee thou hadst no luck in wheat? But thou wouldst not give ear to my speech, and now it behoveth thee to go to the astrologer151 and question him of thine ascendant.” Accordingly the trader betook himself to the astrologer and questioned him of his star, and astrophil said to him, “Thine ascendant is adverse. Put not forth thy hand to any business, for thou wilt not prosper thereby.” However, he paid no heed to the astrologer’s words and said in himself, “If I do my business, I am not afraid of aught.” Then he took the other half of his money, after he had spent the first in three years, and builded him a ship, which he loaded with a cargaison of whatso seemed good to him and all that was with him and embarked on the sea, so he might voyage questing gain. The ship remained in port some days, till he should be certified whither he would wend, and he said, “I will ask the traders what this merchandise profiteth and in what land ’tis wanted and how much can it gain.” They directed him to a far country, where his dirham should produce an hundredfold. So he set sail and made for the land in question; but, as he went, there blew on him a furious gale, and the ship foundered. The merchant saved himself on a plank and the wind cast him up, naked as he was, on the sea-shore, where stood a town hard by. He praised Allah and gave Him thanks for his preservation; then, seeing a great village nigh hand, he betook himself thither and saw, seated therein, a very old man, whom he acquainted with his case and that which had betided him. The Shaykh grieved for him with sore grieving, when he heard his tale and set food before him. He ate of it and the old man said to him, “Tarry here with me, so I may make thee my overseer152 and factor over a farm I have here, and thou shalt have of me five dirhams a day.” Answered the merchant, “Allah make fair thy reward, and requite thee with His boons and bounties.” So he abode in this employ, till he had sowed and reaped and threshed and winnowed, and all was clean in his hand and the Shaykh appointed neither agent nor inspector, but relied utterly upon him. Then the merchant bethought himself and said, “I doubt me the owner of this grain will never give me my due; so the better rede were to take of it after the measure of my wage; and if he give me my right, I will return to him that I have taken.” So he laid hands upon the grain, after the measure of that which fell to him, and hid it in a hiding place. Then he carried the rest and meted it out to the old man, who said to him “Come, take thy wage, for which I conditioned with thee, and sell the grain and buy with the price clothes and what not else; and though thou abide with me ten years, yet shalt thou still have this hire and I will acquit it to thee on this wise.” Quoth the merchant in himself, “Indeed, I have done a foul deed by taking it without his permission.” Then he went to fetch that which he had hidden of the grain, but found it not and returned, perplexed, sorrowful, to the Shaykh, who asked him, “What aileth thee to be mournful?” and he answered, “Methought thou wouldst not pay me my due; so I took of the grain, after the measure of my hire; and now thou hast paid me all my right and I went to bring back to thee that which I had hidden from thee, but found it gone, for those who had come upon it have stolen it.” The Shaykh was wroth, when he heard these words, and said to the merchant, “There is no device against ill luck! I had given thee this but, of the sorriness of thy doom and thy fortune, thou hast done this deed, O oppressor of thine own self! Thou deemedst I would not fulfil to thee thy wage; but, by Allah, nevermore will I give thee aught.” Then he drove him away from him. So the merchant went forth, woeful, grieving, weeping-eyed, and wandered along the sea-shore, till he came to a sort of duckers153 diving in the sea for pearls. They saw him weeping and wailing and said to him, “What is thy case and what garreth thee shed tears?” So he acquainted them with his history, from incept to conclusion, whereby the duckers knew him and asked him “Art thou Such-an-one, son of Such-an-one?” He answered “Yes;” whereupon they condoled with him and wept sore for him and said to him, “Abide here till we dive upon thy luck this next time and whatso betideth us shall be between us and thee.”154 Accordingly, they ducked and brought up ten oyster-shells, in each two great unions: whereat they marvelled and said to him,”By Allah, thy luck hath re-appeared and thy good star is in the ascendant!” Then the pearl-fishers gave him the ten pearls and said to him, “Sell two of them and make them thy stock-in-trade: and hide the rest against the time of thy straitness.” So he took them, joyful and contented, and applied himself to sewing eight of them in his gown, keeping the two others in his mouth; but a thief saw him and went and advertised his fellows of him; whereupon they gathered together upon him, and took his gown and departed from him. When they were gone away, he arose, saying, “The two unions I have will suffice me,” and made for the nearest city, where he brought out the pearls for sale. Now as Destiny would have it, a certain jeweller of the town had been robbed of ten unions, like those which were with the merchant; so, when he saw the two pearls in the broker’s hand, he asked him, “To whom do these belong?” and the broker answered, “To yonder man.” The jeweller, seeing the merchant in pauper case and clad in tattered clothes, suspected him and said to him, “Where be the other eight pearls?” The merchant thought he asked him of those which were in the gown, whenas the man had purposed only to surprise him into confession, and replied, “The thieves stole them from me.” When the jeweller heard his reply, he was certified that it was the wight who had taken his good; so he laid hold of him and haling him before the Chief of Police, said to him, “This is the man who stole my unions: I have found two of them upon him and he confesseth to the other eight.” Now the Wali knew of the theft of the pearls; so he bade throw the merchant into jail. Accordingly they imprisoned him and whipped him, and he lay in trunk a whole year, till, by the ordinance of Allah Almighty, the Chief of Police arrested one of the divers aforesaid, and imprisoned him in the prison where the merchant was jailed. The ducker saw him and knowing him, questioned him of his case; whereupon he told them his tale, and that which had befallen him; and the diver marvelled at the lack of his luck. So, when he came forth of the prison, he acquainted the Sultan with the merchant’s case and told him that it was he who had given him the pearls. The Sultan bade bring him forth of the jail, and asked him of his story, whereupon he told him all that had befallen him, and the Sovran pitied him and assigned him a lodging in his own palace, together with pay and allowances for his support. Now the lodging in question adjoined the king’s house, and whilst the merchant was rejoicing in this and saying, “Verily, my luck hath returned, and I shall live in the shadow of this king the rest of my life,” he espied an opening walled up with clay and stones. So he cleared the opening the better to see what was behind it, and behold, it was a window giving upon the lodging of the king’s women. When he saw this, he was startled and affrighted and rising in haste, fetched clay and stopped it up again. But one of the eunuchs155 saw him, and suspecting him, repaired to the Sultan, and told him of this. So he came and seeing the stones pulled out, was wroth with the merchant and said to him, “Be this my reward from thee, that thou seekest to unveil my Harim?” Thereupon he bade pluck out his eyes; and they did as he commanded. The merchant took his eyes in his hand and said, “How long, O star of ill-omen, wilt thou afflict me? First my wealth and now my life!” And he bewailed himself, saying, “Striving profiteth me naught against evil fortune. The Compassionate aided me not, and effort was worse than useless.”156 “On like wise, O king,” continued the youth, “whilst fortune was favourable to me, all that I did came to good; but now that it hath turned against me, everything turneth to mine ill.” When the youth had made an end of his tale, the king’s anger subsided a little, and he said, “Return him to the prison, for the day draweth to an end, and to-morrow we will look into his affair, and punish him for his ill-deeds.”
149 In Chavis and Cazotte “Story of Kaskas; or the Obstinate Man.” For ill-luck, see Miss Frere’s “Old Deccan Days” (p. 171), and Giles’s “Strange Stories,” &c. (p. 430), where the young lady says to Ma, “You often asked me for money; but on account of your weak luck I hitherto refrained from giving it.”
150 True to life in the present day, as many a standing hay-rick has shown.
151 The “Munajjim” is a recognised authority in Egyptian townlets, and in the village republics of Southern India the “Jyoshi” is one of the paid officials.
152 Arab. “Amín” sub. and adj. In India it means a Government employé who collects revenue; in Marocco a commissioner sent by His Sharifian Majesty.
153 Our older word for divers=Arab “Ghawwásún”: a single pearl (in the text Jauhar=the Port. AIjofar) is called “habbah”=grain or seed.
154 The kindly and generous deed of one Moslem to another, and by no means rare in real life.
155 “Eunuch,” etymologically meaning chamberlain (gÛ<º + §Pg4<), a bed-chamber-servant or slave, was presently confined to castrated men found useful for special purposes, like gelded horses, hounds, and cockerels turned to capons. Some writers hold that the creation of the semivir or apocopus began as a punishment in Egypt and elsewhere; and so under the Romans amputation of the “peccant part” was frequent: others trace the Greek “invalid,” i.e., impotent man, to marital jealousy, and not a few to the wife who wished to use the sexless for hard work in the house without danger to the slave-girls. The origin of the mutilation is referred by Ammianus Marcellinus (lib. iv. chap. 17), and the Classics generally, to Semiramis, an “ancient queen” of decidedly doubtful epoch, who thus prevented the propagation of weaklings. But in Genesis (xxxvii. 36; xxxix. 1, margin) we find Potiphar termed a “Sarím” (castrato), an “extenuating circumstance” for Mrs. P. Herodotus (iii. chap. 48) tells us that Periander, tyrant of Corinth, sent three hundred Corcyrean boys to Alyattes for castration ¦BÊ J ¦iJ@:, and that Panionios of Chios sold caponised lads for high prices (viii. 105): he notices (viii. 104 and other places) that eunuchs “of the Sun, of Heaven, of the hand of God,” were looked upon as honourable men amongst the Persians whom Stephanus and Brissonius charge with having invented the name (Dabistan i. 171). Ctesias also declares that the Persian kings were under the influence of eunuchs. In the debauched ages of Rome the women found a new use for these effeminates, who had lost only the testes or testiculi=the witnesses (of generative force): it is noticed by Juvenal (i. 22; ii. 365-379; vi. 366)
— sunt quos imbelles et mollia semper
Oscula delectant.
So Martial,
— vult futui Gallia, non parere,
And Mirabeau knew (see Kadísah) “qu’ils mordent les femmes et les liment avec une précieuse continuité.” (Compare my vol. ii. 90; v. 46.) The men also used them as catamites (Horace i. Od. xxxvii.).
“Contaminato cum grege turpium,
Morbo virorum.”
In religion the intestabilis or intestatus was held ill-omened, and not permitted to become a priest (Seneca Controv. ii. 4), a practice perpetuated in the various Christian churches. The manufacture was forbidden, to the satisfaction of Martial, by Domitian, whose edict Nero confirmed; and was restored by the Byzantine empire, which advanced eunuchs, like Eutropius and Narses, to the highest dignities of the realm. The cruel custom to the eternal disgrace of mediaeval Christianity was revived in Rome for providing the choirs in the Sistine Chapel and elsewhere with boys’ voices. Isaiah mentions the custom (Ivi. 3-6). Mohammed, who notices in the Koran (xxiv. 31), “such men as attend women and have no need of women,” i.e., “have no natural force,” expressly forbade (iv. 118), “changing Allah’s creatures,” referring, say the commentators, to superstitious earcropping of cattle, tattooing, teeth-sharpening, sodomy, tribadism, and slave-gelding. See also the “Hidáyah,” vol. iv. 121; and the famous divine AI-Siyúti, the last of his school, wrote a tractate Fi ’I-Tahrími Khidmati ’I-Khisyán=on the illegality of using eunuchs. Yet the Harem perpetuated the practice throughout AI-Islam and African jealousy made a gross abuse of it. To quote no other instance, the Sultan of Dár-For had a thousand eunuchs under a Malik or king, and all the chief offices of the empire, such as Ab (father) and Báb (door), were monopolised by these neutrals. The centre of supply was the Upper Nile, where the operation was found dangerous after the age of fifteen, and when badly performed only one in four survived. For this reason, during the last century the Coptic monks of Girgah and Zawy al-Dayr, near Assiout, engaged in this scandalous traffic, and declared that it was philanthropic to operate scientifically (Prof. Panuri and many others). Eunuchs are now made in the Sudán, Nubia, Abyssinia, Kordofán, and Dár-For, especially the Messalmiyah district: one of those towns was called “Tawáshah” (eunuchry) from the traffic there conducted by Fukahá or religious teachers. Many are supplied by the district between Majarah (Majarash?) and the port Masawwah; there are also depôts at Mbadr, near Tajurrah-harbour, where Yusuf Bey, Governor in 1880, caponised some forty boys, including the brother of a hostile African chief: here also the well-known Abu Bakr was scandalously active. It is calculated that not less than eight thousand of these unfortunates are annually exported to Arabia, Egypt, and Turkey. Article IV. of the AngIo-Egyptian Convention punishes the offense with death, and no one would object to hanging the murderer under whose mutilating razor a boy dies. Yet this, like most of our modern “improvements” in Egypt, is a mere brutum fulmen. The crime is committed under our very eyes, but we will not see it.
The Romans numbered three kinds of eunuchs:— 1. Castrati, clean-shaved, from Gr.i¦FJk@H; 2. Spadones, from FB•T, when the testicles are torn out, not from “Spada,” town of Persia; and, 3. Thlibii, from h8\&T, to press, squeeze, when the testicles are bruised, &c. In the East also, as I have stated (v. 46), eunuchs are of three kinds:— 1. Sandali, or the clean-shaved, the classical apocopus. The parts are swept off by a single cut of a razor, a tube (tin or wooden) is set in the urethra, the wound is cauterised with boiling oil, and the patient is planted in a fresh dunghill. His diet is milk; and if under puberty, he often survives. This is the eunuque aqueduc, who must pass his water through a tube. 2. The eunuch whose penis is removed: he retains all the power of copulation and procreation without the wherewithal; and this, since the discovery of caoutchouc, has often been supplied. 3. The eunuch, or classical Thlibias and Semivir, who has been rendered sexless by removing the testicles (as the priests of Cybele were castrated with a stone knife), or by bruising (the Greek Thlásias), twisting, searing, or bandaging them. A more humane process has lately been introduced: a horsehair is tied round the neck of the scrotum and tightened by slow degrees till the circulation of the part stops and the bag drops off without pain. This has been adopted in sundry Indian regiments of Irregular Cavalry, and it succeeded admirably: the animals rarely required a day’s rest. The practice was known to the ancients. See notes on Kadísah in Mirabeau. The Eunuchata virgo was invented by the Lydians, according to their historian Xanthus. Zachias (Quaest. medico-legal.) declares that the process was one of infibulation or simple sewing up the vulva; but modern experience has suggested an operation like the “spaying” of bitches, or mutilation of the womb, in modern euphuism “baby-house.” Dr. Robert (“Journey from Delhi to Bombay, Müller’s Archiv. 1843”) speaks of a eunuch’d woman who after ovariotomy had no breasts, no pubes, no rotundities, and no desires. The Australians practice exsection of the ovaries systematically to make women barren. Miklucho Maclay learned from the traveller Retsch that about Lake Parapitshurie men’s urethras were split, and the girls were spayed: the latter showing two scars in the groin. They have flat bosoms, but feminine forms, and are slightly bearded; they mix with the men, whom they satisfy mechanically, but without enjoyment (?). MacGillivray, of the “Rattlesnake,” saw near Cape York a woman with these scars: she was a surdo-mute, and had probably been spayed to prevent increase. The old Scandinavians, from Norway to Iceland, systematically gelded “sturdy vagrants” in order that they might not beget bastards. The Hottentots before marriage used to cut off the left testicle, meaning by such semi-castration to prevent the begetting of twins. This curious custom, mentioned by the Jesuit Tochard, Boeving, and Kolbe, is now apparently obsolete — at least, the traveller Fritsch did not find it.
156 Arab. “Harám”=”forbidden,” sinful.
Whenit was the next day, the second of the king’s Wazirs, whose name was Baharún, came in to him and said, “Allah advance the king! This deed which yonder youth hath done is a grave matter, and a foul misdeed and a heinous against the household of the king.” So Azadbakht bade fetch the youth, because of the Minister’s speech; and when he came into the presence, said to him, “Woe to thee, O youth! There is no help but that I do thee die by the dreadest of deaths, for indeed thou hast committed a grave crime, and I will make thee a warning to the folk.” The youth replied, “O king, hasten not, for the looking to the ends of affairs is a column of the kingdom, and a cause of continuance and assurance for the kingship. Whoso looketh not to the issues of actions, there befalleth him that which befel the merchant, and whoso looketh to the consequences of actions, there betideth him of joyance that which betideth the merchant’s son.” The king asked, “And what is the story of the merchant and his sons?” and the youth answered, “Hear, O king,
There was once a merchant, who had abundant wealth, and a wife to boot. He set out one day on a business journey, leaving his wife big with child, and said to her, “Albeit, I now leave thee, yet I will return before the birth of the babe, Inshallah!” Then he farewelled her and setting out, ceased not faring from country to country till he came to the court of one of the kings and foregathered with him. Now this king needed one who should order his affairs and those of his kingdom and seeing the merchant wellbred and intelligent, he required him to abide at court and entreated him honourably. After some years, he sought his Sovran’s leave to go to his own house, but the king would not consent to this; whereupon he said to him, “O king, suffer me go and see my children and come again.” So he granted him permission for this and, taking surety of him for his return, gave him a purse, wherein were a thousand gold dinars. Accordingly, the merchant embarked in a ship and set sail, intending for his mother-land. On such wise fared it with the trader; but as regards his wife, news had reached her that her husband had accepted service with King Such-an-one; so she arose and taking her two sons (for she had borne twins in his absence), set out seeking those parts. As Fate would have it, they happened upon an island, and her husband came thither that very night in the ship. So the woman said to her children, “The ship cometh from the country where your father is: hie ye to the sea-shore, that ye may enquire of him.” Accordingly, they repaired to the sea-shore and going up into the ship, fell to playing about it and busied themselves with their play till evening evened. Now the merchant their sire lay asleep in the ship, and the noisy disport of the boys troubled him; whereupon he rose to call out to them “Silence” and let the purse with the thousand dinars fall among the bales of merchandise. He sought for it and finding it not, buffeted his head and seized upon the boys, saying, “None took the purse but you: ye were playing all about the bales, so ye might steal somewhat, and there was none here but you twain.” Then he took his staff, and laying hold of the children, fell to beating them and flogging them, whilst they wept, and the crew came round about them saying, “The boys of this island are all rogues and robbers.” Then, of the greatness of the merchant’s anger, he swore an oath that, except they brought out the purse, he would drown them in the sea; so when by reason of their denial his oath demanded the deed, he took the two boys and binding them each to a bundle of reeds, cast them into the water. Presently, finding that they tarried from her, the mother of the two boys went searching for them, till she came to the ship and fell to saying,”Who hath seen two boys of mine? Their fashion is so and so and their age thus and thus.” When the crew heard her words, they said, “This is the description of the two boys who were drowned in the sea but now.” Their mother hearing this began calling on them and crying, “Alas, my anguish for your loss, O my sons! Where was the eye of your father this day, that it might have seen you?” Then one of the sailors asked her, “Whose wife art thou?” and she answered, “I am the wife of Such-an-one the trader. I was on my way to him, and there hath befallen me this calamity.” When the merchant heard her words, he knew her and rising to his feet, rent his raiment and beat his head and said to his wife, “By Allah, I have destroyed my children with mine own hand! This is the end of whoso looketh not to the endings of affairs. This is his reward who taketh not time to reflect.” Then he took to wailing and weeping over them, he and his wife, and he said to his shipmates, “By Allah, I shall never enjoy my life, till I light upon news of them!” And he began to go round about the sea, in quest of his sons, but found them not. Meanwhile, the wind carried the two children from the ship towards the land, and cast them up on the sea-shore. As for one of them, a company of the guards of the king of those parts found him and carried him to their lord, who marvelled at him with exceeding marvel and adopted him, giving out to the folk that he was his own son, whom he had hidden,158 of his love for him. So the folk rejoiced in him with joy exceeding, for their lord’s sake, and the king appointed him his heir-apparent and the inheritor of his kingdom. On this wise a number of years passed, till the king died and they enthroned the youth sovran in his stead, when he sat down on the seat of his kingship and his estate flourished and his affairs prospered with all regularity. Meanwhile, his father and mother had gone round about, in quest of him and his brother, all the islands of the sea, hoping that the tide might have cast them up, but found no trace of them; so they despaired of them and took up their abode in a certain of the islands. One day, the merchant, being in the market, saw a broker, and in his hand a boy he was crying for sale, and said in himself, “I will buy yonder boy, so I may solace myself with him for my sons.”159 So he bought him and bore him to his house; and, when his wife saw him, she cried out and said, “By Allah, this is my son!” Accordingly his father and mother rejoiced in him with exceeding joy and asked him of his brother; but he answered, “The waves parted us and I knew not how it went with him.” Therewith his father and mother consoled themselves with him and on this wise a number of years passed by. Now the merchant and his wife had homed them in a city of the land where their other son was king, and when the boy they had recovered grew up, his father assigned unto him merchandise, to the end that he might travel therewith. Upon this he fared forth and entered the city wherein his brother ruled and anon news reached the king that a merchant had come thither with merchandise befitting royalties; so he sent for him and the young trader obeyed the summons and going in to him, sat down before him. Neither of them knew the other; but blood moved between them160 and the king said to the merchant youth, “I desire of thee that thou tarry with me and I will exalt thy station and give thee all that thou requirest and cravest.” Accordingly, he abode with him awhile, never quitting him; and when he saw that he would not suffer him to depart from him, he sent to his father and mother and bade them remove thither to him. Hereat they resolved upon moving to that island, and their son still increased in honour with the king, albeit he knew not that he was his brother. Now it chanced one night that the king sallied forth without the city and drank and the wine got the mastery of him and he became drunken. So, of the youth’s fear for his safety, he said, “I will keep watch myself over the king this night, seeing that he deserveth this from me, for that which he hath done with me of kindly deeds;” and he arose forthright and baring his brand, stationed himself at the door of the king’s pavilion. But one of the royal pages saw him standing there, with the drawn sword in his hand, and he was of those who envied him his favour with the king; therefore, he said to him. “Why dost thou on this wise at this time and in the like of this place?” Said the youth, “I am keeping watch and ward over the king myself, in requital of his bounties to me.” The page said no more to him; however, when it was morning, he acquainted a number of the king’s servants with the matter, and they said, “This is an opportunity for us. Come, let us assemble together and acquaint the king therewith, so the young merchant may lose regard with him161 and he rid us of him and we be at rest from him.” So they assembled together and going in to the king, said to him, “We have a warning wherewith we would warn thee.” Quoth he, “And what is your warning?” and quoth they, “This youth, the trader, whom thou hast taken into favour and whose rank thou hast exalted above the chiefest of thy lords, we saw yesterday bare his brand and design to fall upon thee, to the end that he might slay thee.” Now when the king heard this, his colour changed and he said to them, “Have ye proof of this?” They rejoined, “What proof wouldst thou have? An thou desirest this, feign thyself drunken again this night and lie down as if asleep, and privily watch him and thou wilt see with thine eyes all that we have mentioned to thee.” Then they went to the youth and said to him, “Know that the king thanketh thee for thy dealing yesternight and exceedeth in commendation of thy good deed;” and they prompted him again to do the like. Accordingly, when the next night came, the king abode on wake, watching the youth; and as for the latter, he went to the door of the pavilion and unsheathing his scymitar, stood in the doorway. When the king saw him do thus, he was sore disquieted and bade seize him and said to him, “Is this my reward from thee? I showed thee favour more than any else and thou wouldst do with me this abominable deed.” Then arose two of the king’s pages and said to him, “O our lord, an thou order it, we will smite his neck.” But the king said, “Haste in killing is a vile thing, for ’tis a grave162 matter; the quick we can kill, but the killed we cannot quicken, and needs must we look to the end of affairs. The slaying of this youth will not escape us.”163 Therewith he bade imprison him, whilst he himself went back to the city and, his duties done, fared forth to the chase. Then he returned to town and forgot the youth; so the pages went in to him and said to him, “O king, an thou keep silence concerning yonder youth, who designed to slaughter thee, all thy servants will presume upon the king’s majesty, and indeed the folk talk of this matter.” Hereat the king waxed wroth and cried, “Fetch him hither;” and bade the headsman strike off his head. So they brought the youth and bound his eyes; and the sworder stood at his head and said to the king, “By thy leave, O my lord, I will smite his neck.” But the king cried, “Stay, till I look into his affair. Needs must I put him to death and the dispatching of him will not escape me.” Then he restored him to the prison and there he abode till it should be the king’s will to do him die. Presently, his parents heard of the matter; whereupon his father arose and going up to the palace, wrote a letter and presented it to the king, who read it, and behold, therein was written, saying, “Have ruth on me, so may Allah have ruth on thee, and hasten not in the slaughter of my son; for indeed I acted hastily in a certain affair and drowned his brother in the sea, and to this day I bemourn him. An thou must needs kill him, kill me in his stead.” Therewith the old merchant, weeping bitterly, prostrated himself before the king, who said to him, “Tell me thy tale.” Said the merchant, “O my lord, this youth had a brother and I in my haste cast the twain into the sea.” And he related to him his story, first and last, whereupon the king cried with a mighty loud cry and casting himself down from the throne, embraced his father and brother and said to the merchant, “By Allah, thou art my very father and this is my brother and thy wife is our mother.” And they abode weeping, all three of them. Then the king acquainted his people with the matter and said to them, “O folk, how deem ye of my looking to the consequences of action?” and they all marvelled at his wisdom and foresight. Then he turned to his sire and said to him, “Hadst thou looked to the issue of thine affair and made due delay in whatso thou didst, there had not betided thee this repentance and chagrin all this time.” Thereupon he sent for his mother and they rejoiced one in other and lived all their days in joy and gladness. “What then” (continued the young treasurer), “is more grievous than the lack of looking to the ends of things? Wherefore hasten thou not in the slaying of me, lest penitence betide thee and sore chagrin.” When the king heard this, he said, “Return him to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his affair; for that deliberation in such is advisable and the slaughter of this youth shall not escape us.”
157 In Chavis and Cazotte, who out-galland’d Galland in transmogrifying the Arabic, this is the “Story of Illage (AI-Hájj) Mahomet and his sons; or, the Imprudent Man.” The tale occurs in many forms and with great modifications. See, for instance, the Gesta Romanorum “Of the miraculous recall of sinners and of the consolation which piety offers to the distressed,” the adventures of the knight Placidus, vol. ii. 99. Charles Swan, London. Rivington, 1824.
158 i.e. For fear of the “eye”; see vol. i. 123 and passim. In these days the practice is rare; but, whenever you see at Cairo an Egyptian dame daintily dressed and leading by the hand a grimy little boy whose eyes are black with flies and whose dress is torn and unclean, you see what has taken its place. And if you would praise the brat you must not say “Oh, what a pretty boy!” but “Inshallah!”— the Lord doth as he pleaseth.
159 The adoption of slave lads and lasses was and is still common among Moslems.
160 I have elsewhere noted this “pathetic fallacy” which is a lieu commun of Eastern folk-lore and not less frequently used in the mediaeval literature of Europe before statistics were invented.
161 Arab. “Yaskut min ’Aynayh,” lit.=fall from his two eyes, lose favour.
162 i.e. killing a man.
163 i.e. we can slay him whenever we will.
When it was the third day, the third Wazir came in to the king and said to him, “O king, delay not the matter of this youth, because his deed hath caused us fall into the mouths of folk, and it behoveth that thou slay him forthright, that the talk may be cut from us and it be not said, ‘The king saw on his bed a man with his wife and spared him.’” The king was chagrined by these words and bade bring the youth. Accordingly, they fetched him in fetters, and indeed the king’s anger was upstirred against him by the Minister’s speech and he was troubled; so he said to him, “O base of birth, thou hast dishonoured us and marred our mention, and needs must I do away thy life from the world.” Quoth the youth, “O king, make use of patience in all thine affairs, so wilt thou win to thy wish, for that Allah Almighty hath appointed the issue of long-suffering to be in abounding good, and indeed by patience Abú Sábir ascended from the pit and sat down upon the throne.” Asked the king, “Who was Abú Sábir, and what is his tale?” and the youth answered, saying, “Hear thou, O king,
164 In Chavis and Cazotte “Story of Abosaber the Patient.” “Abú-Sábir” would mean “Father of the Patient (one).”
There was once a man, a village headman,165 Abú Sabír hight, and he had much black cattle and a buxom wife, who had borne him two sons. They abode in a certain hamlet and there used to come thither a lion and rend and devour Abu Sabir’s herd, so that the most part thereof was wasted and his wife said to him one day, “This lion hath wasted the greater part of our property. Arise, mount thy horse and take thy host and do thy best to kill him, so we may be at rest from him.” But Abu Sabir said, “Have patience, O woman, for the issue of patience is praised. This lion it is which transgresseth against us, and the transgressor, perforce must Almighty Allah destroy him. Indeed, ’tis our long-suffering that shall slay him,166 and he that doth evil needs must it recoil upon him.” A few days after, the king went forth one morning to hunt and falling in with the lion, he and his host, gave chase to him and ceased not pursuit till they slew him. This news reached Abú Sábir who improved the occasion to his wife, “Said I not to thee, O woman, that whoso doth evil, it shall recoil upon him? Haply an I sought to slay the lion myself, I had not prevailed against him, and this is the issue of patience.” It befel, after this, that a man was slain in Abú Sábir’s village; wherefore the Sultan bade plunder the village, and they spoiled the patient one’s goods with the rest. Thereupon his wife said to him, “All the king’s officers know thee; so do thou prefer thy plaint to the sovran, that he may bid thy beasts to be restored to thee.” But he said to her, “O woman, said I not to thee that he who worketh wrong shall be wronged? Indeed, the king hath done evil, and right soon he shall suffer the issues of his deed, for whoso taketh the goods of the folk, needs must his goods be taken.” A man of his neighbours heard his speech, and he was an envier of his; so he went to the Sultan and acquainted him therewith, whereupon the king sent and plundered all the rest of his goods and drave him forth from the village, and his wife and family with him. They went wandering in the waste grounds about the hamlet and his wife said to him, “All that hath befallen us cometh of thy slowness in affairs and thy helplessness.” But he said to her, “Have patience, for the issue of patience is good.” Then they walked on a little way, and thieves met them and despoiling them of whatso remained with them, stripped them of their raiment and took from them the two children; whereupon the woman wept and said to her husband, “Hearkye, my good man, put away from thee this folly and up with us to follow the thieves, so, peradventure they may have compassion on us and restore the children to us.” He replied, “O woman, have patience, for he who doth evil shall be requited with evil and his frowardness shall revert upon him. Were I to follow them, belike one of them would take his sword and smite my neck and slay me; but have patience, for the issue of patience is praised.” Then they fared on till they made a village167 in the land of Kirman, and by it a river of water; so the man said to his wife, “Tarry thou here, whilst I enter the village and look us out a place wherein we may home ourselves.” And he left her by the water and entered the village. Presently, up came a horseman in quest of water, wherewith to water his horse: he saw the woman and she was pleasing in his eyes; so quoth he to her, “Arise, mount with me and I will take thee to wife and entreat thee kindly.” Quoth she, “Spare me, so may Allah spare thee! Indeed I have a husband.” But he drew his dudgeon and said to her, “An thou obey me not, I will smite thee and slay thee.” When she saw his frowardness, she wrote on the ground in the sand with her finger, saying, “O Abú Sábir, thou hast not ceased to be patient, till thy good is gone from thee and thy children and now thy wife, who was more precious in thy sight than everything and than all thy monies, and indeed thou abidest in thy sorrow the whole of thy life long, so thou mayest see what thy patience will profit thee.” Then the horseman took her, and setting her behind him, went his way. As for Abú Sábir, when he returned, he saw not his wife but he read what was writ upon the ground, wherefore he wept and sat awhile sorrowing. Then said he to himself, “O Abú Sábir, it behoveth thee to be patient, for haply there shall betide thee an affair yet sorer than this and more grievous;” and he went forth a-following his face,168 like to one lovedistraught and passion-madded, till he came to a gang of labourers working upon the palace of the king, by way of forced labour.169 When the overseers saw him, they laid hold of him and said to him, “Work thou with these folk at the palace of the king; else we will imprison thee for life.” So he fell to working with them as a labourer and every day they gave him a bannock of bread. He wrought with them a month’s space, till it chanced that one of the labourers mounted a ladder and falling, brake his leg; whereupon he cried out and shed tears. Quoth Abú Sábir to him, “Have patience and weep not; for in thine endurance thou shalt find ease.” But the man said to him, “How long shall I have patience?” And he answered, saying, “Long-suffering bringeth a man forth of the bottom of the pit and seateth him on the throne of the kingdom.” It so fortuned that the king was seated at the lattice, hearkening to their talk, and Abú Sábir’s words angered him for the moment; wherefore he bade bring him before him and they brought him forthright. Now there was in the king’s palace an underground dungeon and therein a vast silo170 and a deep, into which the king caused cast Abú Sábir, saying to him, “O little of wit, soon shall we see how thou wilt come forth of the pit to the throne of the kingdom.” Then he used continuously to come and stand at the mouth of the pit and say, “O little of wit, O Abú Sábir,171 I see thee not come forth of the pit and sit down on the king’s throne!” And he assigned him each day two bannocks of bread, whilst Abú Sábir kept silence and spake not, but patiently bore whatso betided him. Now the king had a brother, whom he had imprisoned in that pit of old time, and he had died there; but the folk of the realm deemed him still alive, and when his durance grew long, the courtiers of the king used to talk of this and of the tyranny of their liege Lord, and the bruit spread abroad that the sovran was a tyrant, so they fell upon him one day and slew him. Then they sought the silo and brought out therefrom Abú Sábir, deeming him the king’s brother, for that he was the nearest of folk to him in favour and the likest, and he had been long in the pit. So they doubted not but that he was the Prince and said to him, “Reign thou in thy brother’s room, for we have slain him and thou art sovran in his stead.” But Abú Sábir was silent and spoke not a word;172 and he knew that this was the result of his patience. Then he arose and sitting down on the king’s throne, donned the royal dress and dispensed justice and equity, and affairs prospered; wherefore the lieges obeyed him and the subjects inclined to him and many were his soldiers. Now the king, who erst had plundered Abú Sábir’s goods and driven him forth of his village, had an enemy; and the foe mounted horse against him and overcame him and captured his capital; wherefore he betook him to flight and came to Abú Sábir’s city, craving support of him and seeking that he should succour him. He knew not that the king of the city was the headman whom he had spoiled; so he presented himself before him and made complaint to him; but Abú Sábir knew him and said to him, “This is somewhat of the issue of patience. Allah the Most High hath given me power over thee.” Then he commanded his guards to plunder the unjust king and his suite; so they spoiled them and stripping them of their clothes, put them forth of his country. When Abú Sábir’s troops saw this, they marvelled and said, “What be this deed the king doth? There cometh a king to him, craving protection, and he spoileth him! This is not the fashion of kings.” But they dared not speak of this. Presently, news came to the king of highwaymen in his land; so he set out in quest of them and ceased not to follow after them, till he had seized on them all, and behold, they were the very thieves who had plundered him and his wife by the way and had carried off his children. Accordingly he bade bring them before him, and when they came into his presence, he questioned them, saying, “Where are the two boys ye took on such a day?” Said they, “They are with us and we will present them to our lord the king for Mamelukes to serve him and give him wealth galore that we have gotten together and doff all we own and repent from lawlessness and fight in thy service.” Abú Sábir, however, paid no heed to their words, and seized all their good and bade put them all to death. Furthermore, he took his two boys and rejoiced in them with exceeding joy, whereat the troops murmured among themselves, saying, “Verily, this is a greater tyrant than his brother! There cometh to him a gang of thieves, and they seek to repent and proffer two boys by way of peace-offering, and he taketh the two lads and all their good and slayeth them! Indeed this be violent oppression.” After this came the horseman, who had seized Abú Sábir’s wife, and complained of her to the king that she would not give him possession of her person, and solemnly declared that she was his wife. The king bade bring her before him, that he might hear her plea and pronounce judgment upon her. So the horseman came with her before him, and when the king saw her, he knew her and taking her from her ravisher, bade put him to death. Then he became aware of the troops, that they murmured against him and spake of him as a tyrant; so he turned to his courtiers and ministers and said to them, “As for me, by Allah of All-might,173 I am not the king’s brother! Nay, I am but one whom the king imprisoned upon a word he heard from me and he used every day to come and taunt me therewith. Ye deem me the king’s brother; but I am Abú Sabir and the Lord hath given me the kingship in virtue of my patience. As for the king who sought protection of me and I plundered him, ’twas he who first wronged me, for that he plundered me afore time and drave me forth of my native land and banished me, without due cause; wherefore I requited him with that which he had done to me, in the way of lawful retribution. As for the highwaymen who proffered repentance, there was no repentance for them with me, because they began upon me with foul dealing and waylaid me by the road and despoiled me and seized my good and my sons, the two boys that I took of them, and those ye deemed Mamelukes are my very sons; so I avenged myself on the thieves of that which they did with me whilome and requited them with strict justice. As for the horseman whom I slew, this woman I took from him was my wife and he seized her by force, but Allah the Most High hath restored her to me; so this was my right, and my deed that I have done was righteous, albeit ye, judging by the externals of the matter, deemed that I had done this by way of tyranny.” When the folk heard these words, they marvelled and fell prostrate before him; and they redoubled in esteem for him and exceeding affection and sued pardon of him, admiring that which Allah had done with him and how He had given him the kingship by reason of his longsuffering and his patience and how he had raised himself by his endurance from the bottom of the pit to the throne of the kingdom, what while Allah cast down the late king from the throne into the pit.174 Then Abú Sábir foregathered with his wife and said to her, “How deemest thou of the fruit of patience and its sweetness and the fruit of haste and its bitterness? Verily, all that a man doth of good and evil, he shall assuredly encounter the same.” “On like wise, O king” (continued the young treasurer), “it befitteth thee to practice patience, whenever it is possible to thee, for that longsuffering is the wont of the noble, and it is the chiefest of their reliance, especially for kings.” When the king heard this from the youth, his wrath subsided; so he bade return him to the prison, and the folk dispersed that day.
165 Arab. “Dihkán,” in Persian a villager; but here something more, a villageelder or chief. AI-Mas’udi (chap. xxiv.), and other historians apply the term to a class of noble Persians descended from the ten sons of Wahkert, the first,”Dihkán,” the fourth generation from King Kayomars.
166 Reminding one not a little of certain anecdotes anent Quakers, current in England and English-speaking lands.
167 Arab. “Karyah,” a word with a long history. The root seems to be Karaha, he met; in Chald. Karih and Kária (emphatic Kárita)=a town or city; and in Heb. Kirjath, Kiryáthayim, etc. We find it in Carthage= Kartá hádisah, or New Town as opposed to Utica (Atíkah)=Old Town; in Carchemish and in a host of similar compounds. In Syria and Egypt Kariyah, like Kafr, now means a hamlet, a village.
168 i.e. wandering at a venture.
169 Arab. “Sakhrah,” the old French Corvée, and the “Begár” of India.
170 Arab. “Matmúrah:” see vol. ii. 39, where it was used as an “underground cell.” The word is extensively used in the Maghrib or Western Africa.
171 Arab. “Yá Abá Sábir.” There are five vocative particles in Arabic; “Yá,” common to the near and far; “Ayá” (ho!) and “Hayá” (holla!) addressed to the far, and “Ay” and “A” (A-’Abda-lláhi, O Abdullah), to those near. All govern the accusative of a noun in construction in the literary language only; and the vulgar use none but the first named. The English-speaking races neglect the vocative particle, and I never heard it except in the Southern States of the AngloAmerican Union=Oh, Mr. Smith.
172 He was not honest enough to undeceive them; a neat Quaker-like touch.
173 Here the oath is justified; but the reader will have remarked that the name of Allah is often taken in vain. Moslems, however, so far from holding this a profanation deem it an acknowledgment of the Omnipotence and Omnipresence. The Jews from whom the Christians have borrowed had an interest in concealing the name of their tribal divinity; and therefore made it ineffable.
174 i.e. the grave, the fosse commune of slain men.
When it was the fourth day, the fourth Wazir, whose name was Zúshád,175 made his appearance, and prostrating himself to his liege lord, said to him, “O king, let not the talk of yonder youth delude thee, for that he is not a truth-teller. As long as he shall remain alive, the folk will not leave talking nor will thy heart cease to be occupied with him.” Cried the king, “By Allah, thou sayst sooth and I will cause fetch him this day and slay him between my hands.” Then bade he bring the youth; so they fetched him in fetters and he said to him, “Woe to thee! Thinkest thou to appease my heart with thy prate, whereby the days are spent in talk? I mean to do thee die this day and be quit of thee.” Said the youth, “O king, ’tis in thy power to put me out of the world whenso thou wilt, but haste is the wont of the ignoble and patience the sign of the noble. An thou do me to death, thou wilt repent, and when thou desire to bring me back to life, thou wilt not be able. Indeed, whoso acteth hastily in an affair, there befalleth him what befel Bihzád, son of the king.” Quoth the king, “And what is his tale?” Replied the treasurer, “O king, hear
175 A fancy name; “Zawash” in Pers. is = -g×H the planet Jupiter, either borrowed from Greece, or both descended from some long forgotten ancestor.
There was once, of olden time, a king and he had a son Bihzad hight, there was not in his tide a fairer than he and he loved to fellow with the folk and to mix with the merchants and sit and talk with them. One day, as he was seated in an assembly, amongst a number of people, he heard them talking of his own beauty and loveliness, and saying, “There be not in his time a fairer than he.” But one of the company said, “Indeed, the daughter of King Such-an-one is seemlier than he.” When Bihzad heard this saying, his reason fled and his heart fluttered and he called the last speaker and said to him, “Repeat to me that which thou saidst and tell me the truth concerning her whom thou avouchest to be goodlier than I and whose daughter she is.” Quoth the man, “She is the daughter of King Such-an-one;” whereupon Bihzad’s heart clave to her and his colour changed. Presently the news reached his sire, who said to him, “O my son, this maiden to whom thy heart cleaveth is at thy command and we have power over her; so wait till I demand her in wedlock for thee.” But the Prince said, “I will not wait.” So the king hastened in the matter and sent to demand her of her sire, who required of him an hundred thousand dinars paid down to his daughter’s dowry. Quoth Bihzad’s father, “So be it,” and weighed out what was in his treasuries, and there remained to his charge but a little of the dower.177 So he said, “Have patience, O my son, till we gather together the rest of the money and send to fetch her for thee, since now she is become thine.” Therewith the Prince waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and cried, “I will not have patience;” so he took his sword and his lance178 and mounting his horse, went forth and fell to cutting the way.179 It chanced one day that he fell upon a company of folk who overcame him by dint of numbers and taking him prisoner, pinioned him and carried him to the lord of that land wherein he was a-highwaying. This king saw his semblance and loveliness and misdoubting of him, said, “This be no robber’s favour. Tell me truly, O youth, who thou art.” Bihzad was ashamed to acquaint him with his condition and preferred death for himself; so he answered, “I am naught but a thief and a bandit.” Quoth the king, “It behoveth us not to act hastily in the matter of this youth, but that we look into his affair, for that impatience gendereth penitence.” So he imprisoned him in his palace and assigned him one to serve him. Meanwhile the news spread abroad that Bihzad, son of the sovran, was lost, whereupon his father sent letters in quest of him to all the kings including him with whom he was imprisoned. When the letter reached the latter, he praised Almighty Allah for that he had not anyways hastened in Bihzad’s affair and bidding them bring him before himself, said to him, “Art thou minded to destroy thy life?” Quoth Bihzad, “I did this for fear of shame;” and the king said, “An thou fear shame, thou shouldst not practise haste in thy doings; knowest thou not that the fruit of impatience is repentance? Had we hasted, we also, like thee, had repented.” Then he conferred on him a robe of honour and engaged to him for the completion of the dowry and sent to his father, giving him the glad tidings and comforting his heart with news of his son’s safety; after which he said to Bihzad, “Arise, O my son, and go to thy sire.” Rejoined the Prince, “O king, complete thy kindness to me by hastening my going-in to my wife; for, an I go back to my sire, the time will be long till he send a messenger and he return, promising me dispatch.” The king laughed and marvelled at him and said to him, “I fear for thee from this precipitancy, lest thou come to shame and win not thy wish.” Then he gave him muchel of wealth and wrote him letters, commending him to the father of the Princess, and despatched him to them. When he drew near their country, the king came forth to meet him with the people of his realm and assigned him a fine lodging and bade hasten the going-in of his daughter to him, in compliance with the other king’s letter. He also advised the Prince’s father of his son’s coming and they busied themselves with the affair of the young lady. When it was the day of the bride’s going-in180 Bihzad, of his impetuosity and lack of patience, betook himself to the wall, which was between himself and her lodging and wherein was a hole pierced, and of his haste looked through it, so he might see his bride. But her mother espied him181 and this was grievous to her; so she took from one of the pages two red-hot iron spits and thrust them into the hole through which the Prince was looking. The spits ran into his eyes and put them out and he fell down fainting and the wedding-festival was changed to mourning and sore concern. “See, then, O king” (continued the youth), “the issue of the Prince’s haste and lack of deliberation, for indeed his impatience bequeathed him long penitence and his joy turned to annoy; and on like wise was it with the woman who hastened to put out his eyes and delayed not to deliberate. All this was the doing of haste; wherefore it behoveth the king not to be hasty in putting me to death, for that I am under the hold of his hand, and whatso time thou desirest my slaughter, it shall not escape thee.” When the king heard this his anger subsided and he said, “Return him back to the prison till to-morrow, so we may look into his case.”
176 In Chavis and Cazotte “Story of Bhazad (!) the Impatient.” The name is Persian, Bih (well, good) Zád (born). In the adj. bih we recognize a positive lost in English and German which retain the comparative (bih-tar = better) and superlative (bih-tarin=best).
177 i.e. the moiety kept by the bridegroom, a contingent settlement paid at divorce or on the death of the husband.
178 Arab. “Rumh”=the horseman’s lance not the footman’s spear.
179 i.e. became a highwayman (a time-honoured and honourable career) in order to collect money for completing the dowry.
180 i.e. to the bride, the wedding-day; not to be confounded with “going in unto” etc.
181 Probably meaning that she saw the eyes espying through the crevice without knowing whose they were.
When it was the fifth day, the fifth Wazir, whose name was Jahrbaur,182 came in to the king and prostrating himself before him. said, “O king, it behoveth thee, an thou see or hear one look on thy house,183 that thou pluck out his eyes. How then should it be with him whom thou sawest a-middlemost thy palace and on thy royal bed, and he suspected with thy Harim, and not of thy lineage or of thy kindred? So do thou away this shame by putting him to death. Indeed, we urge thee not to this, except for the assurance of thine empire and of our zeal for thy loyal counselling and of our affection to thee. How can it be lawful that this youth should live for a single hour?” Therewith the king was filled with fury and cried, “Bring him forthright.” So they fetched the youth whom they set before him in fetters, and the king said to him, “Woe to thee! Thou hast sinned a great sin and the time of thy survival hath been long;184 but needs must we put thee to death, because there is no case for us in thy life till we take it.” Quoth the youth, “Know O king, that I, by Allah, am guiltless, and by reason of this I hope for life, for that he who is innocent of all offence goeth not in fear of pains and penalties, neither greateneth his mourning and his concern; but whoso hath sinned, needs must his sin be expiated upon him, though his life be prolonged, and it shall overtake him, even as it overtook Dádbín the king and his Wazir.” Asked Azadbakht,“How was that?” and the youth said,“Hear, O king (whose days may Allah increase!),
There was once a king in the land of Tabaristan,186 by name Dádbín, and he had two Wazirs, one called Zorkhan and the other Kárdán.187 The Minister Zorkhan had a daughter, there was not in her day a fairer than she nor yet a chaster or a more pious, for she was a faster, a prayer and an adorer of Allah the Almighty, and her name was Arwá.188 Now Dadbin, the king, heard tell of her praises; so his heart clave to her and he called the Wazir her sire and said to him, “I desire of thee that thou marry me to thy daughter.” Quoth Zorkhan, “O my liegest lord, suffer me to consult her, and if she consent, I will marry thee with her.” And the king, said, “Haste thee with this.” So the Minister went in to his daughter and said to her, “O my daughter, the king seeketh thee of me and desireth to marry thee.” She said. “O my father, I desire not a husband, and if thou wilt marry me not but with a mate who shall be mine inferior in rank and I nobler than he, so he may not turn to other than myself nor lift his eyes upon me,189 and marry me not to one who is nobler than I, lest I be with him as a slave-girl and a serving-woman.” Accordingly the Wazir returned to the king and acquainted him with that which his daughter had said, whenas he redoubled in desire and love-longing for her, and said to her sire, “An thou marry me not to her of good grace, I will take her in thy despite and by force.” The Minister again betook himself to his daughter and repeated to her the king’s words, but she replied, “I want no husband.” So he returned to the king and told him what she said, and he was wroth and threatened him, whereupon the father took his daughter and fled with her. When this came to the king’s knowledge, he despatched troops in pursuit of Zorkhan, to stop the road upon him, whilst he himself went out and overtaking the Wazir, smote him on the head with his mace190 and slew him. Then he took his daughter by force and returning to his dwelling-place, went in to her and married her. Arwa resigned herself with patience to that which betided her and committed her case to Allah Almighty; and indeed she was used to serve Him night and day with a goodly service in the house of King Dadbin her husband. It befel one day that the king had occasion to make a journey; so he called his second Wazir Kardan and said to him, “I have a charge to commit to thy care, and it is yonder lady, my wife, the daughter of the Wazir Zorkhan, and I desire that thou keep her and guard her thy very self, because I have not in the world aught dearer than she.” Quoth Kardan in his mind, “Of a truth, the king honoureth me with an exceeding honour in entrusting me with this lady.” And he answered, “With love and all gladness.” When the king had departed on his journey, Kardan said in himself, “Needs must I look upon this lady whom the king loveth with all this love.” So he hid himself in a place, that he might espy her, and saw her surpassing description; wherefor he was confounded at her and his wit was wildered and love gat the lordship of him, so that he sent to her, saying, “Have pity on me, for indeed I perish for the love of thee.” She sent back to him and replied, “O Wazir, thou art in the place of faith and confidence, so do not thou betray thy trust, but make thine inward life like unto thine outward191 and occupy thyself with thy wife and that which is lawful to thee. As for this, ’tis mere lust and women are all of one and the same taste.192 And if thou wilt not be forbidden from this talk, I will make thee a byword and a reproach among folk.” When the Minister heard her answer, he knew that she was chaste of soul and body; wherefore he repented with the utmost of repentance and feared for himself from the king and said, “Needs must I devise a device whereby I may destroy her; else shall I be disgraced with the king.” Now when the king returned from his journey, he questioned Kardan of the affairs of his kingdom, and the Wazir answered, “All is right well, O king, save a vile matter, which I have espied here and with which I am ashamed to confront the sovran; but, if I hold my peace thereof, I fear lest other than I discover it and I shall have played traitor to the king in the matter of my warning and my trust.” Quoth Dadbin, “Speak, for to me thou art none other than a truth-teller, a trustworthy and a loyal counsellor in whatso thou sayest, undistrusted in aught.” And the Minister said, “O king, this woman to whose love thy heart cleaveth and of whose piety thou talkest and her fasting and her praying, I will plainly prove to thee that this is craft and guile.” Hereat the king was troubled and said, “What may be the matter?” and the Wazir replied, “I would have thee wot that some days after thy departure, one came to me and said to me, Come, O Wazir, and look. So I went to the door of the queen’s sleeping-chamber and behold, she was sitting with Abu al-Khayr, her father’s page, whom she favoureth, and she did with him what she did, and such is the manner of that which I saw and heard.” When Dadbin heard this, he burnt with rage and said to one of his eunuchs,193 “Go and slay her in her chamber.” But the eunuch said to him, “O king, Allah prolong thy life! Indeed, the killing of her may not be in this way neither at this time; but do thou bid one of thine Castratos take her up on a camel and carry her to one of the trackless wolds and cast her down there; so, if she be guilty, Allah shall cause her to perish, and if she be innocent, He will deliver her, and the king shall be free from default against her; for that this lady is dear to thee and thou slewest her father by reason of thy love for her.” Quoth the king, “By Allah, thou sayst sooth!” Then he bade one of his eunuchs carry her on a camel to one of the far-off wilds and cut-off wolds and there leave her and wend his ways, and he forbade her torment to be prolonged. So he took her up and betaking himself with her to the desert, left her there without provaunt or water and returned, whereupon she made for one of the hills, and ranging stones before her in form of prayer-niche, stood praying. Now it chanced that a camel-driver, belonging to Kisrà194 the king, lost certain camels, and his lord threatened him, if he found them not, that he would slay him. Accordingly he set out and plunged into the wastes till he came to the place where the lady was, and seeing her standing at prayer utterly alone, waited till she had made an end of her orisons, when he went up to her and saluted her with the salam, saying, “Who art thou?” Quoth she, “I am a hand-maid of the Almighty.” He asked, “What doest thou in this desolate place?” and she answered, “I serve Allah the Most High.” When he saw her beauty and loveliness, he fell in love with her, and said to her, “Harkye! Do thou take me to mate and I will be tender to thee and use thee with exceeding ruth, and I will further thee in obedience to Allah Almighty.” But she answered, saying, “I have no need of wedlock and I desire to abide here alone with my Lord and His worship; but an thou wouldst have ruth upon me and further me in the obedience of Allah the Most High, carry me to a place where there is water and thou wilt have done me a kindness.” Thereupon he took her to a place wherein was running water and setting her down on the ground, left her and went his ways, marvelling at her. After he left her, he found his camels, by her blessing, and when he returned, King Kisra asked him, “Hast thou found the camels?” He answered “Yes,” and acquainted him with the affair of the damsel, and detailed to him her beauty and loveliness: whereupon the king’s heart clave to her and he mounted with a few men and betook himself to that place, where he found the lady and was amazed at her, because he saw her surpassing the description wherewith the camel-driver had described her to him. So he accosted her and said to her, “I am King Kisra, greatest of the kings. Wilt thou not have me to husband?” Quoth she, “What wilt thou do with me, O king, and I a woman abandoned in the waste?” And quoth he, “Needs must this be, and if thou wilt not consent to me, I will take up my abode here and devote myself to Allah’s service and thy service, and with thee worship the Almighty.” Then he bade set up for her a tent and another for himself, facing hers, so he might adore Allah with her, and fell to sending her food; and she said in herself, “This is a king, and ’tis not lawful for me that I suffer him for my sake to forsake his lieges and his land.” Presently she said to the servingwoman, who used to bring her the food, “Speak the king that he return to his women, for he hath no need of me, and I desire to abide in this place, so I may worship therein Allah the Most High.” The slave-girl returned to the king and told him this, whereupon he sent back to her, saying, “I have no need of the kingship and I also desire to tarry here and worship Allah with thee in this waste.” When she found this earnestness in him, she fell in with his wishes, and said, “O king, I will consent to that which thou desirest and will be to thee a wife, but on condition that thou bring me Dadbin the king and his Wazir Kardan and his Chamberlain the chief Eunuch, and that they be present in thine assembly, so I may speak a word with them in thy presence, to the intent that thou mayst redouble in affection for me.” Quoth Kisra, “And what is thy want unto this?” So she related to him her story from first to last, how she was the wife of Dadbin the king and how the Wazir Kardan had misspoken of her honour. When King Kisra heard this, he redoubled in love-longing for her and affection and said to her, “Do whatso thou willest:” then he let bring a litter195 and carrying her therein to his dwelling-place, entreated her with the utmost honour and espoused her. Presently he sent a great army to King Dadbin and fetching him and his Wazir Kardan and the Eunuch-chamberlain, caused bring them before him, they unknowing the while what he might purpose to do with them. Moreover, he caused set up for Arwa a pavilion196 in the courtyard of his palace, and she entered it and let down the curtain before herself. When the servants had set their seats and they had seated themselves, Arwa raised a corner of the curtain and said, “O Kardan, rise to thy feet, for it befitteth not that thou sit in the like of this assembly, before this mighty King Kisra.” When the Wazir heard these words, his heart fluttered and his joints were loosened and he rose to his feet of his fear. Then said she to him, “By the virtue of Him who hath made thee stand up to judgment in this standing-stead, and thou abject and humiliated, I conjure thee speak the truth and say what egged thee on to lie against me and drive me from my home and from the land of my husband and made thee practise thus against a man and a Moslem so as to slay him.197 This is no place wherein lying availeth nor may artifice be herein.” When the Wazir was ’ware that she was Arwa and heard her speech, he knew that it behoved him not to lie and that naught would avail him save truth; so he bowed his head groundwards and wept and said, “Whoso doth evil, needs must he incur it, albe his day be prolonged. By Allah, I am he who hath sinned and transgressed, and naught prompted me unto this but fear and overmastering desire and the misery writ upon my brow.198 And indeed this woman is pure and chaste and free from all fault.” When King Dadbin heard this, he beat his face and said to Kardan, his Wazir, “Allah slay thee!199 ’Tis thou that hast parted me and my wife and wronged me!” But Kisra the king said to him, “Allah shall assuredly slay thee, because thou hastenedst and lookedst not into thine affair, and knewest not the guilty from the guiltless. Hadst thou wrought deliberately, the unright had been made manifest to thee from the right; so when this villain Wazir purposed thy ruin, where was thy judgment and whither went thy sight?” Then he asked Arwa, “What wilt thou that I do with them?” and she answered, “Accomplish on them the ordinance of Almighty Allah:200 let the slayer be slain and the transgressor transgressed against, even as he transgressed against us; yea, and to the well-doer weal shall be done even as he did unto us.” So she gave her officers order concerning Dadbin and they smote him on the head with a mace and slew him, and she said, “This is for the slaughter of my sire.” Then she bade set the Wazir on a beast and bear him to the desert whither he had caused her to be borne, and leave him there without provaunt or water; and she said to him, “An thou be guilty, thou shalt suffer the punishment of thy guilt and die in the desert of hunger and thirst; but an there be no guilt in thee, thou shalt be delivered, even as I was delivered.” As for the Eunuch-chamberlain, who had counselled King Dadbin not to slay her, but to cause carry her to the desert, she bestowed on him a costly robe of honour and said to him, “The like of thee it befitteth kings to hold in favour and promote to high place, for that thou spakest loyally and well, and a man is requited according to his deed.” And Kisra the King made him Wali in a certain province of his empire. “Know, therefore, O king” (continued the youth), “that whoso doeth good is requited with good, and he who is guiltless of sin and offence feareth not the issue of his affair. And I, O my liege lord, am free from guilt, wherefore I hope in Allah that He will show forth the truth to mine auspicious king, and vouchsafe me the victory over enemies and enviers.” When the king heard this, his wrath subsided and he said, “Return him to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his case.”
185 See Chavis and Cazotte, “Story of Ravia (Arwà!) the Resigned.” Dádbín (Persian)=one who looks to justice, a name hardly deserved in this case.
186 For this important province and city of Persia, see Al-Mas’udí, ii. 2; iv. 86, etc. It gave one of the many names to the Caspian Sea. The adjective is Tabari, whereas Tabaráni=native of Tiberias (Tabariyah).
187 Zor-khán=Lord Violence, and Kár-dán=Business-knower; both Persian.
188 “Arwà” written with a terminal of yá is a woman’s P.N. in Arabic.
189 i.e. Not look down upon me with eyes of contempt. This “marrying below one” is still an Eastern idea, very little known to women in the West.
190 Chavis and Cazotte call the Dabbús a “dabour” and explain it as a “sort of scepter used by Eastern Princes, which serves also as a weapon.” For the Dabbús, or mace, see vol. vi. 249.
191 i.e. Let thy purposes be righteous as thine outward profession.
192 See vol. vi. 130. This is another lieu commun amongst Moslems; and its unfact requires only statement.
193 Afterwards called his “chamberlain,” i.e. guardian of the Harem-door.
194 i.e. Chosroës, whom Chavis and Cazotte make “Cyrus.”
195 Arab. “Tákiyah,” used for the Persian Takhtrawán, common in The Nights.
196 Arab. “Kubbah,” a dome-shaped tent, as elsewhere.
197 This can refer only to Abu al-Khayr’s having been put to death on Kardan’s charge, although the tale-teller, with characteristic inconsequence, neglected to mention the event.
198 Not referring to skull sutures, but to the forehead, which is poetically compared with a page of paper upon which Destiny writes her irrevocable decrees.
199 Said in the grimmest earnest, not jestingly, as in vol. iv. 264.
200 i.e. the lex talionis, which is the essence of Moslem, and indeed, of all criminal jurisprudence. We cannot wonder at the judgment of Queen Arwa: even Confucius, the mildest and most humane of lawgivers, would not pardon the man who allowed his father’s murderer to live. The Moslem lex talionis (Koran ii. 173) is identical with that of the Jews (Exod. xxi. 24), and the latter probably derives from immemorial usage. But many modern Rabbins explain away the Mosaical command as rather a demand for a pecuniary mulct than literal retaliation. The well-known Isaac Aburbanel cites many arguments in proof of this position: he asks, for instance, supposing the accused have but one eye, should he lose it for having struck out one of another man’s two? Moreover, he dwells upon the impossibility of inflicting a punishment the exact equivalent of the injury; like Shylock’s pound of flesh without drawing blood. Moslems, however, know nothing of these frivolities, and if retaliation be demanded the judge must grant it. There is a legend in Marocco of an English merchant who was compelled to forfeit tooth for tooth at the instance of an old woman, but a profitable concession gilded the pill.
When it was the sixth day, the wrath of the Wazirs redoubled, because they had not won their will of the youth and they feared for their lives from the liege lord; so three of them went in to him and prostrating themselves between his hands, said to him, “O king, indeed we are loyal counsellors to thy dignity and fondly solicitous for thy weal. Verily, thou persistest long in leaving this youth alive and we know not what is thine advantage therein. Every day findeth him yet on life and the talk of folk redoubleth suspicion on thee; so do thou do him dead, that the talk may be made an end of.” When the king heard this speech, he said, “By Allah, verily ye say sooth and speak rightly!” Then he bade them bring the young treasurer and when he came into the presence said to him, “How Iong shall I look into thy case, and find no helper for thee and see them athirst for thy blood?” The youth answered, “O king, I hope for succour only from Allah, not from created beings: an He aid me, none shall have power to harm me, and if He be with me and on my side, because of the truth, from whom shall I fear, because of untruth? Indeed, I have made my intent with Allah a pure intent and a sincere, and I have severed my expectation from the help of the creature; and whoso seeketh aid of Allah findeth of his desire that which Bakhtzamán found.” Quoth the king, “Who was Bakhtzaman and what is his story?” and quoth the youth, “Hear, O king,
There was once a king of the kings whose name was Bakhtzaman, and he was a great eater and drinker and carouser. Now enemies of his made their appearance in certain parts of his realm which they coveted; and one of his friends said to him, “O king, the foe intendeth for thee: be on thy guard against him.” Quoth Bakhtzaman “I reck not of him, for that I have weapons and wealth and warmen and am not afraid of aught.” Then said his friends to him, “Ask aid of Allah, O king, for He will help thee more than thy wealth and thy weapons and thy warriors.” But he turned a deaf ear to the speech of his loyal counsellors, and presently the enemy came upon him and waged war upon him and got the victory over him and profited him naught his trust in other than Allah the Most High. So he fled from him and seeking one of the sovrans, said to him, “I come to thee and lay hold upon thy skirts and take refuge with thee, so thou mayst help me against my foe.” The king gave him money and men and a mighty many and Bakhtzaman said in himself, “Now am I fortified with this force and needs must I conquer my foe with such combatants and overcome him;” but he said not, “With the aid of Allah Almighty.” So his enemy met him and overcame him again and he was defeated and put to the rout and fled at random: his troops were dispersed from him and his money lost and the enemy pursued him. Thereupon he sought the sea and passing over to the other side, saw a great city and therein a mighty citadel. He asked its name and that of its owner, and they said to him, “It belongeth to Khadídán202 the king.” So he fared on till he came to the royal palace and concealing his condition, passed himself off for a horseman203 and sought service with King Khadidan, who attached him to his attendance and entreated him with honour; but his heart still clung to his mother-land and his home. Presently, it chanced that an enemy came out against King Khadidan; so he sent his troops to meet him and made Bakhtzaman head of the host. Then they went forth to the field and Khadidan also came forth and ranged his troops and levelled lance and sallied out in person and fought a sore fight and overcame his foe, who with his troops ignominiously fled. When the king and his army returned in triumph, Bakhtzaman said to him, “Harkye, O king! This be a strange thing I see in thee that thou art compassed about with this mighty great army, yet dost thou apply thyself in person to battle and adventurest thy life.” Quoth the king, “Dost thou call thyself a knight and a learned wight and deemest that victory is in the many of men?” Quoth Bakhtzaman, “Such is indeed my belief.” And Khadidan the king cried, “By Allah, then, thou errest in this thy belief!” presently adding, “woe and again woe to him whose trust is in other than Allah! Indeed, this army is appointed only for phantasy and majesty, and victory is from Allah alone. I too, O Bakhtzaman, whilome believed that victory was in the number of men,204 and an enemy came out against me with eight hundred head, whilst I had eight hundred thousand. I trusted in the tale of my troops, whilst my foe trusted in Allah, so he defeated me and routed me and I was put to a shameful flight and hid myself in one of the mountains, where I met with a Religious who had withdrawn himself from the world. So I joined myself to him and complained to him of my case and acquainted him with all that had befallen me. Quoth the Recluse, ‘Wottest thou why this befel thee and thou wast defeated?’ Quoth I, ‘I know not;’ and he said. ‘Because thou didst put thy trust in the multitude of thy warmen and reliedst not upon Allah the Most High. Hadst thou put thy trust in the Almighty and believed of Him that it is He alone who advantageth and endamageth thee, never had thy foe availed to cope with thee. Return unto Allah.’ So I returned to my right senses, and repented at the hands of that Religious, who said to me, ‘Turn back with what remaineth to thee of troops and confront thy foes, for, if their intents be changed and turned away from Allah, thou wilt overcome them, e’en wert thou alone.’ When I heard the Solitary’s words, I put my trust in Allah of All-Might; and, gathering together those who remained with me, fell upon mine enemies at unawares in the night. They deemed us many and fled with the shamefullest flight, whereupon I entered my city and repossessed myself of my place by the might of Almighty Allah, and now I fight not but trusting in His aid. When Bakhtzaman heard these words he awoke from his heedlessness and cried, “Extolled be the perfection of God the Great! O king, this is my case and my story, nothing added and naught subtracted, for I am King Bakhtzaman and all this happened to me: wherefore I will seek the gate of Allah’s mercy and repent unto Him.” So he went forth to one of the mountains and worshipped Allah there awhile, till one night, as he slept, a personage appeared to him in a dream and said to him, “O Bakhtzaman, Allah accepteth thy repentance and openeth on thee the door of succour and will aid thee against thy foe.” When he was assured of this in the dream, he arose and turned back, intending for his own city; and when he drew near thereunto, he saw a company of the king’s retainers, who said to him, “Whence art thou? We see that thou art a foreigner and fear for thee from this king, for that every stranger who entereth this city, he destroyeth him, of his dread of King Bakhtzaman.” Said Bakhtzaman, “None shall prejudice him nor profit him save Allah the Most High.” And they replied. “Indeed, he hath a vast army and his heart is fortified in the multitude of his many.” When King Bakhtzaman heard this, his mind was comforted and he said to himself, “I place my trust in Allah. An He will, I shall overcome mine enemy by the might of the Lord of Omnipotence.” So he said to the folk, “Wot ye not who I am?” and they said, “No, by Allah.” Cried he, “I am King Bakhtzaman.” When they heard this and knew that it was indeed he, they dismounted from their horses and kissed his stirrup, to do him honour, and said to him, “O king, why thus risk thy life?” Quoth he, “Indeed, my life is a light matter to me and I set my trust in Almighty Allah, looking to Him for protection.” And quoth they, “May that suffice thee!” presently adding, “We will do with thee that which is in our power and whereof thou art worthy: hearten thy heart, for we will succour thee with our substance and our existence, and we are his chief officers and the most in favour with him of all folk. So we will take thee with us and cause the lieges follow after thee, because the inclination of the people, all of them, is theewards.” Said he, “Do whatso Allah Almighty enableth you to do.” So they carried him into the city and hid him with them. Then they agreed with a company of the king’s chief officers, who had aforetime been those of Bakhtzaman, and acquainted them with this; whereat they rejoiced with joy exceeding. Then they assembled together to Bakhtzaman, and made a covenant and handfast of fealty with him and fell upon the foe and slew him and seated King Bakhtzaman again on the throne of his kingship. And his affairs prospered and Allah amended his estate and restored to him His bounty, and he ruled his subjects justly and abode in the obedience of the Almighty. “On this wise, O king” (continued the young treasurer), “he with whom Allah is and whose intent is pure, meeteth naught save good. As for me, I have no helper other than the Almighty, and I am content to submit myself to His ordinance, for that He knoweth the purity of my intent.” With this the king’s wrath subsided and he said, “Return him to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his case.”
201 In Chavis and Cazotte “Story of Bhazmant (!); or the Confident Man.” “Bakht (-i-) Zamán” in Pers. would=Luck of the Time.
202 Chavis and Cazotte change the name to “Abadid,” which, like “Khadídán,” is nonsignificant.
203 Arab. “Fáris,” here a Reiter, or Dugald Dolgetti, as mostly were the hordes led by the mediaeval Italian Condottiéri.
204 So Napoleon the Great also believed that Providence is mostly favorable to “gros bataillons.”
When it was the seventh day, the seventh Wazir, whose name was Bihkamál,205 came in to the king and prostrating himself to him, said, “O king, what doth thy long-suffering with this youth profit thee? Indeed the folk talk of thee and of him. Why, then, dost thou postpone the putting him to death?” The Minister’s words aroused the anger of the king, and he bade bring the youth. So they fetched him before him in fetters and Azadbakht said to him, “Ho, woe to thee! By Allah, after this day there abideth no deliverance for thee from my hand, by reason that thou hast outraged mine honour, and there can be no forgiveness for thee” The youth replied, “O king, there is no great forgiveness save in case of a great default, for according as the offence is great in so much magnified is mercy; and it is no grace to the like of thee if he spare the like of me. Verily, Allah knoweth that there is no crime in me, and indeed He commandeth to clemency, and no clemency is greater than that which spareth from slaughter, for that thy pardon of him whom thou purposest to put to death is as the quickening of a dead man; and whoso doth evil shall find it before him, even as it was with King Bihkard.” Asked the king, “And what is the story of King Bihkard?” And the youth answered, “Hear, O king,
205 Pers. and Arab.=“Good perfection.”
There was once a king named Bihkard, and he had mickle of wealth and many troops; but his deeds were evil and he would punish for a slight offence, and he never forgave any offender. He went forth one day to hunt and a certain of his pages shot a shaft, which lit on the king’s ear and cut it off. Bihkard cried, “Who shot that arrow?” So the guards brought him in haste the misdemeanant, whose name was Yatrú,207 and he of his fear fell down on the ground in a fainting fit. Then quoth the king, “Slay him;” but Yatru said, “O king, this which hath befallen was not of my choice nor of my knowledge; so do thou pardon me, in the hour of thy power over me, for that mercy is of the goodliest of deeds and belike it shall be in this world a provision and a good work for which thou shalt be repaid one of these days, and a treasure laid up to thine account with Allah in the world to come. Pardon me, therefore, and fend off evil from me, so shall Allah fend off from thee the like evil.” When the king beard this, it pleased him and he pardoned the page, albeit he had never before pardoned any. Now this page was of the sons of the kings and had fled from his sire on account of a sin he had committed: then he went and took service with Bihkard the king, and there happened to him what happened. After a while, it chanced that a man recognised him and went and told his father, who sent him a letter, comforting his heart and mind and calling upon him to return to him. Accordingly he returned to his father, who came forth to meet him and rejoiced in him, and the Prince’s affairs were set right with his sire. Now it befel, one day of the days, that king Bihkard shipped him in a ship and put out to sea, so he might fish: but the wind blew on them and the craft sank. The king made the land upon a plank, unknown of any, and came forth, mother-naked, on one of the coasts; and it chanced that he landed in the country whereof the father of the page aforesaid was king. So he came in the night to the gate of the sovran’s capital, and finding it shut, lodged him in a burying-place there. When the morning morrowed and the folk came forth of the city, behold, they found a man lately murthered and cast down in a corner of the burial ground, and seeing Bihkard there, doubted not but it was he who had slain him during the night; so they laid hands on him and carried him up to the king and said to him, “This fellow hath slain a man.” The king bade imprison him; whereupon they threw him in jail, and he fell to saying in himself, what while he was in the prison, “All that hath befallen me is of the abundance of my sins and my tyranny, for, indeed, I have slain much people unrighteously and this is the requital of my deeds and that which I have wrought whilome of oppression.” As he was thus pondering in himself, there came a bird and lighted down on the pinnacle of the prison, whereupon, of his passing eagerness in the chase, he took a stone and threw it at the bird. Now the king’s son was playing in the exercise-ground with the ball and the bat,208 and the stone lit on his ear and cut it off, whereupon the Prince fell down in a fit. So they enquired who had thrown the stone and finding that it was Bihkard, took him and carried him before the king’s son, who bade do him die. Accordingly, they cast the turband from his head and were about to fillet his eyes, when the Prince looked at him and seeing him cropped of an ear, said to him, “But for thy villainies thine ear had not been cut off.” Said Bihkard, “Not so, by Allah! Nay, but the story of the loss of my ear is so and so, and I pardoned him who smote me with an arrow and cut off my ear.” When the prince heard this, he looked in his face and knowing him, cried out and said, “Art thou not Bihkard the king?” “Yes,” replied he, and the Prince said to him, “What ill chance threw thee here?” Thereupon he told him all that had betided him and the folk wondered and extolled the perfection of the Almighty, crying “Subhána ’llah! — laud to the Lord!” Then the Prince rose to him and embraced him and kissed him and, entreating him with respect, seated him in a chair and bestowed on him a robe of honour; and he turned to his sire and said to him, “This be the king who pardoned me and this be his ear which I cut off with a shaft; and indeed he deserveth my pardon by having pardoned me.” Then said he to Bihkard, “Verily, the issue of mercy hath been a provision for thee in such hour as this.” And they entreated him with the utmost kindness and sent him back to his own country in all honour. “Know, then, O king” (continued the youth), “that there is no goodlier quality than mercy and that all thou dost of clemency, thou shalt find before thee a treasure for thee treasured up.” When the king heard this, his wrath subsided and he said, “Return him to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his case.
When it was the eighth day, the Wazirs all assembled and had speech together and said, “How shall we do with this youth, who overcometh us with his much talk? Indeed, we fear lest he be saved and we fall into destruction. So, let us all go in to the king and unite our efforts to gain our cause, ere he appear without guilt and come forth and get the better of us.” Accordingly they all went in to the king and prostrating themselves before him, said to him, “O king, beware lest this youth ensorcell thee with his sorcery and beguile thee with his wiles. An thou heardest what we hear, thou wouldst not suffer him live; no, not a single day. Wherefore heed not his speech, for we are thy Ministers, who endeavour for thy permanence, and if thou hearken not to our word, to whose word wilt thou hearken? See, we are ten Wazirs who testify against this youth that he is guilty and entered not the king’s sleeping chamber save with ill intent, so he might put the king to shame and outrage his honour; and if the king slay him not, let him banish him his realm, that the tongue of the folk may desist from him.” When the king heard his Ministers’ words, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and bade bring the youth, and when he came in to the king, the Wazirs all cried out with one voice, saying, “O Lack-wits, thinkest thou to save thyself from slaughter by guile and sleight, that thou wilest the king with thy talk and hopest pardon for the like of this mighty great crime thou hast committed?” Then the king bade fetch the sworder, so he might smite his neck; whereupon each of the Wazirs fell to saying, “I will slay him;” and they sprang upon him. Quoth the youth, “O king, consider and ponder the eagerness of these thy Ministers. Is this of envy or is it not? They would fain make severance between me and thee, so there may fall to them what they shall plunder, as aforetime.” And the king said to him, “Consider their witness against thee.” The young man said, “O king, how shall they testify of that which they saw not?209 This is but envy and despight; and thou, an thou slay me, wilt indeed regret me, and I fear lest there betide thee of repentance that which betided Aylán Sháh, by reason of the malice of his Wazirs.” Asked Azadbakht, “And what is his story?” and the youth answered, “Hear, O king,
209 Amongst Moslems, I have noted, circumstantial evidence is not lawful: the witness must swear to what he has seen. A curious consideration, how many innocent men have been hanged by “circumstantial evidence.” See vol. v. 97.
Whilome there was a merchant named Abu Tammám, and he was a clever man and a well-bred, quickwitted and truthful in all his affairs, and he was monied to boot. Now there was in his land a king as unjust as he was jealous, and Abu Tammam feared for his wealth from this king and said, “I will remove hence to another place where I shall not be in dread.” So he made for the city of Aylán Sháh and built himself a palace therein and transporting his wealth thither, took up his abode there. Presently, the news of him reached King Aylan Shah; so he sent to invite him to his presence and said to him, “We know of thy coming to us and thine entering under our allegiance, and indeed we have heard of thine excellence and wit and generosity; so welcome to thee and fair welcome! The land is thy land and at thy command, and whatsoever need thou needest of us, ’tis already accomplished to thee; and it behoveth that thou be near our person and of our assembly.” Abu Tammam prostrated himself before the king, and said to him, “O king, I will serve thee with my monies and with my life, but do thou excuse me from nearness to thee, for that an I took office about thee, I should not be safe from enemies and enviers.” Then he applied himself to the royal service with presents and largesses, and the king saw him to be intelligent, well-bred and of good counsel; so his heart inclined to him and he committed to him the ordinance of his affairs and the power to bind and to loose was in his hand. Now Aylan Shah had three Wazirs, in whose hands public affairs were wont to be and they had been accustomed not to quit the king night or day; but they became shut out from him by reason of Abu Tammam and the king was occupied with him to their exclusion. Herewith the Ministers took counsel together upon the matter and said, “What is your rede we should do, seeing that the king is occupied from us with yonder man, and indeed he honoureth him with more honour than us? But now come, let us devise some device whereby we may alienate him from the king.” So each of them spoke forth that which was in his mind, and one of them said, “The king of the Turks hath a daughter, whose like there is not in the world, and whatso messenger goeth to demand her in marriage, him her father slaughtereth. Now our king hath no knowledge of this; so, come, let us foregather with him and bring up the mention of her: when his heart is taken with her, we will advise him to dispatch Abu Tammam to seek her hand in marriage; whereupon her father will slay him and we shall be quit of him and settle his affair once for all.” Accordingly, they went in to the king one day (Abu Tammam being present among them), and mentioned the affair of the damsel, the daughter of the Turks’ king, and enlarged upon her charms, till the king’s heart was taken with her and he said to them, “We will send one to demand her to wife for us; but who shall be our messenger?” Quoth the Wazirs, “There is none fit for this business but Abu Tammam, by reason of his wit and good breeding;” and the king said, “Indeed, even as ye say, none is fitting for this affair save he.” Then he turned to Abu Tammam and said to him, “Wilt thou not go with my message and seek me in marriage the daughter of the Turks’ king?” and he answered, “To hear is to obey, O my Sovran!” So they made ready his affair and the king conferred on him a robe of honour, and he took with him a present and a letter under the king’s hand and setting out, fared on till he came to the capital city of Turkistan. When the king of the Turks knew of his coming, he despatched his officers to receive him and entreated him with honour and lodged him as befitted his rank. Then he guested him three days, after which time he summoned him to his presence and Abu Tammam went in to him; and, prostrating himself as beseemeth before kings, laid that present before him and gave him the letter. The king read the writ and said to Abu Tammam, “We will do what behoveth in the matter; but, O Abu Tammam, needs must thou view my daughter and she view thee, and needs must thou hear her speech and she hear thine.” So saying, he sent him to the lodging of the Princess, who had had notice of this; so that they had adorned her sitting-room with the costliest that might be of vessels of gold and silver and the like, and she seated herself on a chair of gold, clad in the richest of royal robes and ornaments. When Abu Tammam entered, he took thought and said, “The wise declare that whoso governeth his sight shall suffer naught unright and he who guardeth his tongue shall hear naught of foul taunt, and he who keepeth watch over his hand, it shall be lengthened and not shortened.”211 So he entered and seating himself on the floor, cast down his eyes and covered his hands and feet with his dress.212 Quoth the king’s daughter to him, “Raise thy head, O Abu Tammam, and look on me and speak with me.” But he spake not neither raised his head, and she continued, “They sent thee only to view me and talk with me, and yet behold thou sayest not a word;” presently adding, “Take of these union-pearls that be round thee and of these jewels and gold and silver.” But he put not forth his hand to aught, and when she saw that he paid no heed to anything, she was angry and cried, “They have messaged me with a messenger, blind, dumb, deaf.” Then she sent to acquaint her father with this; whereupon the king called Abu Tammam to him and said to him, “Thou camest not save to view my daughter: why, then, hast thou not looked upon her?” Quoth Abu Tammam, “I saw everything;” and quoth the king, “Why didst thou not take somewhat of that which thou sawest of jewels and the like? Indeed they were set out for thee.” But he answered, “It behoveth me not to put out my hand to aught that is not mine.” When the king heard his speech, he gave him a sumptuous robe of honour and loved him muchly213 and said to him, “Come, look at this well.” So Abu Tammam went up to the pit-mouth and looked, and behold, it was full of heads of the sons of Adam, and the king said to him, “These are the heads of envoys whom I slew, because I saw them without loyalty to their lords, and I was used, whenas I beheld an envoy without good manners, to say, ‘He who sent him is worsemannered than he, because the messenger is the tongue of him who sendeth him and his breeding is of his master’s breeding; and whoso is after this fashion, it befitteth not that he be akin to me.’214 For this reason I used to put the envoys to death; but, as for thee, thou hast overcome us and won my daughter, of the excellence of thy manners; so hearten thy heart, for she is thy lord’s.” Then he sent him back to King Aylan Shah with presents and rarities and a letter, saying, “This that I have done is in honour of thee and of thine envoy.” When Abu Tammam returned after accomplishing his mission and brought the presents and the letter, King Aylan Shah rejoiced in this and redoubled all his favours and showed him honour the highest. Some days after, the King of Turkistan sent his daughter and she went in to King Aylan Shah, who rejoiced in her with exceeding joy and Abu Tammam’s worth was exalted in the royal sight. When the Wazirs saw this, they redoubled in envy and despite and said, “‘An we contrive us not a contrivance to rid us of this man, we shall die of rage.” So they bethought them and agreed upon a device they should practise. Then they betook themselves to two boys, pages affected to the service of the king, who slept not but on their knees,215 and they lay at his head, for that they were his bed-chamber pages. So the Ministers gave them each a thousand dinars of gold, saying, “We desire of you that ye do somewhat we require and take this gold as a provision against your time of need.” Quoth the lads, “What is it ye would have us do?” and quoth the Wazirs, “This Abu Tammam hath marred matters for us, and if his case abide in this way, he will remove us all from the king’s favour; and what we want of you twain is that, when ye are alone with the king and he leaneth back, as he were asleep, one of you say to his fellow, ‘Verily, the king hath taken Abu Tammam into high favour and hath advanced him to exalted rank, yet he is a transgressor against the king’s honour and an accursed wight.’ Then let the other of you ask, ‘And what is his transgression?’ and let the first answer, ‘He outrageth the king’s honour and saith, the King of Turkistan was used, when a messenger went to him to seek his daughter in marriage, to slay him; but me he spared, because she liked me, and by reason of this her sire sent her hither, for that she loved me.’ Then let the other say, ‘Knowest thou this for truth?’ and let the first reply, ‘By Allah, this is familiar to all the folk, but, of their fear of the king, they dare not divulge it to him; and as often as the king is absent a-hunting or a-wayfaring, Abu Tammam cometh to her and is private with her.’” Whereupon the boys answered, “We will say this.” Accordingly, one night, when they were alone with the king and he leant back, as he were asleep, they said these words and the king heard all and was like to die of fury and despite and said to himself, “These are young boys, not come to years of discretion, and have no business with any; and unless they had heard these words from some one, they had not spoken thereof each with other.” When it was morning wrath overmastered him, so that he stayed not neither deliberated, but summoned Abu Tammam and taking him apart, said to him, “Whoso guardeth not the honour of his liege lord,216 what deserveth he?” Said Abu Tammam, “He deserveth that his lord guard not his honour.” Aylan Shah continued, “And whoso entereth the king’s house and playeth traitor with him, what behoveth unto him?” and Abu Tammam replied, “He shall not be left alive.” Whereupon the king spat in his face and said to him, “Both these deeds hast thou done.” Then he drew his poinard on him in haste and smiting him in the belly, slit it and Abu Tammam died forthright; whereupon the king dragged him along and cast him into a well that was in his palace. After he had slain him, he fell into repentance and mourning increased and chagrin waxed sore upon him, and he would acquaint none who questioned him with the cause, nor, of his love for his wife, did he tell her of this, and whenever she asked him wherefore he grieved, he answered her not. When the Wazirs knew of Abu Tammam’s death, they rejoiced with exceeding joy and knew that the king’s sorrow arose from regret for him. As for Aylan Shah, after this he used to betake himself by night to the sleeping-chamber of the two boys and spy upon them, that he might hear what they said concerning his wife. As he stood one night privily at the door of their chamber, he saw them spread out the gold between their hands and play with it and heard one of them say, “Woe to us! What doth this gold profit us? Indeed we cannot buy therewith any thing nor spend it upon ourselves. Nay, but we have sinned against Abu Tammam and done him dead unjustly.” And said the other, “Had we known that the king would slay him on the spot, we had not done what we did.” When the king heard that, he could not contain himself, but rushed in upon them and said to them, “Woe to you! What did ye? Tell me.” And they cried, “Amán,217 O king!” He cried, “An ye would have pardon from Allah and me, you are bound to tell me the truth, for nothing shall save you from me but soothfastness.” Hereat they prostrated themselves before him and said, “By Allah, O king, the Wazirs gave us this gold and taught us to lie against Abu Tammam, so thou mightest kill him, and what we said was their speech.” When the king heard this, he plucked at his beard, till he was like to tear it up by the roots and bit upon his fingers, till he well nigh cut them in twain, for repentance and sorrow that he had wrought hastily and had not delayed with Abu Tammam, so he might consider his case. Then he sent for the Ministers and said to them, “O villainous Wazirs, ye deemed that Allah was heedless of your deed, but right soon shall your wickedness revert upon you. Know ye not that whoso diggeth for his brother a pit shall himself fall into it?218 Take from me the punishment of this world and to-morrow ye shall receive the punishment of the next world and requital from Allah.” Then he bade put them to death; so the headsman smote off their heads before the king, and he went in to his wife and acquainted her with whatso he had misdone to Abu Tammam; whereupon she grieved for him with mighty great grief and the king and his household ceased not weeping and repenting all their lives. Moreover, they brought Abu Tammam forth of the well and the king built him a dome219 in his palace and buried him therein. “See, then, O auspicious king” (continued the youth), “what jealousy doth and injustice and how Allah caused the Wazirs’ malice to revert upon their own necks; and I trust in the Almighty that He will empower me over all who envy me my favour with the king and show forth the truth unto him. Indeed, I dread naught for my life from death; only I fear lest the king repent of my slaughter, for that I am guiltless of offence, and if I knew that I were guilty on any wise, my tongue would be dumb-struck.” When the king heard this, he bowed his head groundwards in perplexity and confusion and said, “Restore him to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his case.”
210 In Chavis and Cazotte “Story of Abattamant (!), or the Prudent Man;” also Aylán Shah becomes Olensa after Italian fashion.
211 In Arab. idiom a long hand or arm means power, a phrase not wholly unused in European languages. Chavis and Cazotte paraphrase “He who keeps his hands crossed upon his breast, shall not see them cut off.”
212 Arab. “Jama’a atráfah,” lit.=he drew in his extremities, it being contrary to “etiquette” in the presence of a superior not to cover hands and feet. In the wild Argentine Republic the savage Gaucho removes his gigantic spurs when coming into the presence of his master.
213 About the equivalent to the Arab. or rather Egypto-Syrian form “Jiddan,” used in the modern slang sense.
214 i.e. that he become my son-in-law.
215 For the practice of shampooing often alluded to in The Nights, see vol. iii. 17. The king “sleeping on the boys’ knees” means that he dropped off whilst his feet were on the laps of the lads.
216 Meaning the honour of his Harem.
217 Pardon, lit.=security; the cry for quarter already introduced into English
“Or raise the craven cry Aman.”
It was Mohammed’s express command that this prayer for mercy should be respected even in the fury of fight. See vol. i. 342.
218 A saying found in every Eastern language beginning with Hebrew; Proverbs xxvi. 27, “Whoso diggeth a pit shall fall therein.”
219 i.e. a domed tomb where prayers and perlections of the Koran could be made. “Kubbah” in Marocco is still the term for a small square building with a low medianaranja cupola under which a Santon lies interred. It is the “little Waly” of our “blind travellers” in the unholy “Holy Land.”
Now when it was the ninth day, the Wazirs met and said one to other, “Verily, this youth baffleth us, for as often as the king is minded to kill him, he beguileth him and bewitcheth him with a story; so what be your rede we should do, that we may slay him and be at rest from him?” Then they advised together and agreed that they should go to the king’s wife.220 So they betook themselves to her and said to her, “Thou art careless of this affair wherein thou art and this uncare shall not profit thee; whilst the king, occupied with eating and drinking and diversion, forgetteth that the folk beat upon tambourines and sing of thee and say, The wife of the king loveth the youth; and as long as he abideth alive the talk will increase and not diminish.” Quoth she, “By Allah, ’twas ye egged me on against him, and what shall I do now?” and quoth they, “Go thou in to the king and weep and say to him, ‘Verily, the women come to me and inform me that I am dishonoured throughout the city, and what is thine advantage in the sparing of this youth? An thou wilt not slay him, slay me to the end that this talk may be cut off from us.’” So the woman arose and rending her raiment, went in to the king, in the presence of the Wazirs, and cast herself upon him, saying, “O king, is my shame not upon thee or fearest thou not shame? Indeed, this is not the fashion of kings that their jealousy over their women should be such as this.221 Thou art heedless and all the folk of the realm prate of thee, men and women. Either slay him, that the talk may be cut off, or slay me, if thy soul will not consent to his slaughter.” Thereupon the king’s wrath waxed hot and he said to her, “I have no pleasure in his continuance and needs must I slay him this very day. So return to thy palace and solace thy heart.” Then he bade fetch the youth; whereupon they brought him before him and the Wazirs said, O base of base, fie upon thee! Thy life-term is at hand and earth hungereth for thy flesh, so it may make a meal of it.” But he said to them, “Death is not in your word or in your envy; nay, it is a destiny written upon the forehead: wherefore, if aught be writ upon my front, there is no help but it come to pass, and neither striving nor thought-taking nor precaution-seeking shall deliver me therefrom; even as happened to King Ibrahim and his son.” Quoth the king, “Who was King Ibrahim and who was his son?” and quoth the youth “Hear, O king,
There was once a king of the kings, Sultan Ibrahim hight, to whom the sovrans abased themselves and did obedience; but he had no son and was straitened of breast because of that, fearing lest the kingship go forth of his hand. He ceased not to long for a son and to buy slave-girls and he with them, till one of them conceived, whereat he rejoiced with passing joy and grave great gifts and the largest largesse. When the girl’s months were complete and the time of her lying-in drew near, the king summoned the astrologers and they watched for the hour of child-bearing and raised their astrolabes and carefully noted the time. The hand-maid gave birth to a man-child, whereat the king rejoiced exceedingly, and the people congratulated one another with this glad news. Then the astrophils made their calculations and looked into his nativity and his ascendant, whereupon their colour changed and they were confounded. Quoth the king to them, “Acquaint me with his horoscope and ye shall have assurance of pardon and have naught to fear.”223 They replied, “O king, this princely child’s nativity denoteth that, in the seventh year of his age, there is fearful danger for him from a lion, which shall attempt to rend him: and if he be saved from the lion, there will betide a matter yet sorer and more grievous even than that.” Asked the king, “What is it?” and they answered, “We will not speak, except the king command us and give us assurance from fear.” Quoth the king, “Allah assure you!” and quoth they, “An he be saved from the lion, the king’s destruction shall be at his hand.” When the king heard this, his complexion changed and his breast was straitened; but he said to himself, “I will be watchful and do my endeavour and suffer not the lion to eat him. It cannot be that he will kill me, and indeed ‘The astrologers lied.’”224 Then he caused rear him among the wet-nurses and the noble matrons;225 but withal he ceased not to ponder the prediction of the astrophils and verily his life was troubled. So he betook himself to the top of a high mountain and hollowed there a deep excavation226 and made in it many dwelling-places and rooms and filled it with all that was needful of rations and raiment and what not else and laid in it pipe-conduits of water from the mountain and lodged the boy therein, with a nurse who should rear him. Moreover, at the first of each month he used to go to the mountain and stand at the mouth of the hollow and let down a rope he had with him and draw up the boy to him and strain him to his bosom and kiss him and play with him awhile, after which he would let him down again to his place and return; and he was wont to count the days till the seven years should pass by. Now when arrived the time of the Fate foreordered and the Fortune graven on the forehead and there remained for the boy but ten days till the seven years should be complete, there came to that mountain hunters chasing wild beasts and, seeing a lion, they attacked him. He fled from them and seeking refuge in the mountain, fell into the hollow in its midst. The nurse saw him forthwith and escaped from him into one of the chambers; upon which the lion made for the lad and seizing upon him, tare his shoulder, after which he sought the room wherein was the nurse and falling upon her, devoured her, whilst the boy lay in a swoon. Meanwhile, when the huntsmen saw that the lion had fallen into the pit, they came to the mouth and heard the shrieking of the boy and the woman; and after awhile the cries died away, whereby they knew that the lion had slain them. Presently, as they stood by the mouth of the excavation behold, the lion came scrambling up the sides and would have issued forth: but, as often as he showed his head, they pelted him with stones, till they beat him down and he fell; whereupon one of the hunters descended into the pit and despatched him and saw the boy wounded; after which he went to the chamber, where he found the woman dead, and indeed the lion had eaten his fill of her. Then he noted that which was therein of clothes and what not else, and notifying his mates, fell to passing the stuff up to them: lastly, he took up the boy and bringing him forth of the pit, carried him to their dwelling-place where they dressed his wounds. He grew up with them, but acquainted them not with his affair; and indeed, when they questioned him, he knew not what he should say, because they let him down into the pit when he was a little one. The hunters marvelled at his speech and loved him with exceeding love and one of them took him to son and abode rearing him by his side and training him in hunting and horseriding, till he reached the age of twelve and became a brave, going forth with the folk to the chase and to the cutting of the way. Now it chanced one day that they sallied forth to stop the road and fell in with a caravan during the night: but its stout fellows were on their guard; so they joined battle with the robbers and overcame them and slew them and the boy fell wounded and tarried cast down in that place till the morrow, when he opened his eyes and finding his comrades slain, lifted himself up and arose to walk the road. Presently, there met him a man, a treasure-seeker, and asked him, “Whither away, O lad?” So he told him what had betided him and the other said, “Be of good heart, for that the tide of thy good fortune is come and Allah bringeth thee joy and gladness. I am one who am in quest of a hidden treasure, wherein is a mighty mickle of wealth. So come with me that thou mayst help me, and I will give thee monies with which thou shalt provide thyself all thy life long.” Then he carried the youth to his dwelling and dressed his wounds and he tarried with him some days till he was rested; when the treasure-seeker took him and two beasts and all that he needed, and they fared on till they came to a towering highland. Here the man brought out a book and reading therein, dug in the crest of the mountain five cubits deep, whereupon there appeared to him a stone. He pulled it up and behold it was a trap-door covering the mouth of a pit. So he waited till the foul air227 was come forth from the midst of the pit, when he bound a rope about the lad’s middle and let him down bucket-wise to the bottom, and with him a lighted waxen taper. The boy looked and beheld, at the upper end of the pit, wealth abundant; so the treasure-seeker let down a rope and a basket and the boy fell to filling and the man to drawing up, till the fellow had got his sufficiency, when he loaded his beasts and ceased working, whilst the boy looked for him to let down the rope and draw him up; but he rolled a great stone to the mouth of the pit and went his ways. When the boy saw what the treasure-seeker had done with him, he relied upon Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) and abode perplexed concerning his case and said, “How bitter be this death!” for indeed the world was darkened on him and the pit was blinded to him. So he fell a-weeping and saying, “I escaped the lion and the robbers and now is my death to be in this pit, where I shall die by slow degrees.” And he abode perplexed and looked for nothing but death. But as he stood pondering, behold, he heard a sound of water rushing with a thunderous noise; so he arose and walked in the pit following the sound, till he came to a corner and heard the mighty coursing of water. Then he laid his ear to the sound of the current and hearing it rushing in great strength, said to himself, “This is the flowing of a mighty watercourse and needs must I depart life in this place, be it to-day or to-morrow; so I will throw myself into the stream and not die a slow death in this pit.” Thereupon he called up his courage and gathering up his skirts, cast himself into the water, and it bore him along with force exceeding and carrying him under the earth, stayed not till it brought him out into a deep Wady, adown which ran a great river, that welled up from under the ground. When he found himself on the face of earth, he abode dazed and a-swoon all that day; after which he came to himself and rising, fared on along that valley; and he ceased not his wayfare, praising Almighty Allah the while, till he came to an inhabited land and a great village in the reign of the king his sire. So he entered and foregathered with the villagers, who questioned him of his case; whereupon he told them his tale, and they admired how Allah had delivered him from all those dangers. Then he took up his abode with them and they loved him much. On this wise happened it to him; but as regards the king, his father, when he went to the pit, as was his wont, and called the nurse, she returned him no answer, whereat his breast was straitened and he let down a man who found the woman dead and the boy gone and acquainted therewith the king, who when he heard this, buffeted his head and wept with sore weeping and descended into the midst of the pit that he might see how the case stood. There he espied the nurse slain and the lion dead, but beheld not the boy; so he returned and acquainted the astrologers with the soothfastness of their saying, and they replied, “O king, the lion hath eaten him; destiny hath been wroughten upon him and thou art delivered from his hand; for, had he been saved from the lion, we indeed, by Allah, had feared for thee from him, because the king’s destruction would have been at his hand.” So the king ceased to sorrow for this and the days passed by and the affair was forgotten. Meanwhile the boy grew up and abode with the people of the village, and when Allah willed the accomplishing of His commandment, which no endeavour availeth to avert, he went forth with a party of the villagers to cut the way. The folk complained to King Ibrahim his father, who sallied out with a company of his men and surrounded the highwaymen. Now that boy was with them, and he drew forth an arrow and launched it at them, and it smote the king and wounded him in a mortal place. So they carried him to his palace, after they had laid hands upon the youth and his comrades and brought them before the sovran, saying, “What biddest us to do with them?” Quoth he, “I am presently in trouble for myself, so bring me the astrologers.” Accordingly, they brought them before him and he said to them, “Ye said to me Thy death shall be by slaying at the hand of thy son: how, then, befalleth it that I have got my death-hurt by yonder thieves?” The astrologers marvelled and said to him, “O king, ’tis not beyond the lore of the stars, together with the doom of Allah, that he who hath smitten thee should be thy son.” When King Ibrahim heard this, he bade fetch the thieves and said to them, “Tell me truly, which of you shot the shaft that wounded me.” Said they, “’Twas this youth that is with us.” Whereupon the king fell to considering him and said, “O youth, acquaint me with thy case and tell me who was thy father and thou shalt have assurance of safety from Allah.” The youth replied, “O my lord, I know no father; as for me, my father lodged me in a pit, with a nurse to rear me, and one day, there fell in upon us a lion, which tare my shoulder, then left me and occupied himself with the nurse and rent her in pieces; and Allah vouchsafed me one who brought me forth the pit.” Then he related to him all that had befallen him, first and last; which when King Ibrahim heard, he cried out and said, “By Allah, this is my son!” presently adding, “Bare thy shoulder.” So he uncovered it, and behold, it was scarred. Then the king assembled his lords and lieges and the astrologers and said to them, “Know that what Allah hath writ upon the forehead, be it fair fortune or misfortune, none may efface, and all that is decreed to a man must perforce befal him. Indeed, this my care-taking and my endeavour profited me naught, for what weird Allah decreed for my son, he hath dreed and whatso He decreed to me I have endured. Nevertheless, I praise Allah and thank Him because this was at my son’s hand, and not at the hand of another, and Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord — for that the kingship is come to my son!” And he strained the youth to his bosom and embraced him and kissed him, saying “O my son, this matter was after such fashion, and of my watchfulness over thee from Fate, I lodged thee in that pit; but caretaking availed not.” Then he took the crown of the kingship and set it on his son’s head and caused the lieges and the people do homage to him and commended the subjects to his care and enjoined to him justice and equity. And he farewelled him that night and died and his son reigned in his stead.228 “On like wise, O king” (continued the young treasurer), “’tis with thee. If Allah have written aught on my forehead, needs must it befal me and my speech to the king shall not avail me; no, nor my illustrating it to him with instances, against the doom of Allah. And so it is with these Wazirs, for all their eagerness and endeavour for my destruction, this shall not profit them; because, if Allah determine to save me, He will give me the victory over them.” When the king heard these words he became perplexed and said, “Return him to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his affair, for the day draweth to an end and I mean to do him dead in foulest sort, and to-morrow we will visit him with that which he meriteth.”
222 Story of Sultan Hebriam (!), and his Son” (Chavis and Cazotte). Unless they greatly enlarged upon the text, they had a much fuller copy than that found in the Bresl. Edit.
223 A right kingly king, in the Eastern sense of the word, would strike off their heads for daring to see omens threatening his son and heir: this would be constructive treason of the highest because it might be expected to cause its own fulfilment.
224 Mohammed’s Hadís “Kazzibú ’l-Munajjimúna bi Rabbi ’I-Ka’abah”=the Astrologers lied, by the Ka’abah’s Lord!
225 Arab. “Khawátín,” plur. of Khátún, a matron, a lady, vol. iv. 66.
226 See Al-Mas’udi, chapt. xvii. (Fr. Transl. ii. 48-49) of the circular cavity two miles deep and sixty in circuit inhabited by men and animals on the Caucasus near Derbend.
227 Arab. “Nafas” lit.=breath. Arabs living in a land of caverns know by experience the danger of asphyxiation in such places.
228 This simple tale is told with much pathos not of words but of sense.
When it was the tenth day (now this day was called Al-Mihrján230 and it was the day of the coming in of the folk, gentle and simple, to the king, so they might give him joy and salute him and go forth), the council of the Wazirs agreed that they should speak with a company of the city notables. So they said to them, “When ye go in today to the king and salute him, do ye say to him, ‘O king (to the Lord be the laud!), thou art praiseworthy of policy and procedure and just to all thy subjects; but respecting this youth whom thou hast favoured and who nevertheless hath reverted to his base origin and done this foul deed, what is thy purpose in his continuance? Indeed, thou hast prisoned him in thy palace, and every day thou hearest his palaver and thou knowest not what the folk say.’” And they answered, “Hearing is obeying.” Accordingly, when they entered with the folk and had prostrated themselves before the king and congratulated his majesty, he raised their several degrees. Now it was the custom of the folk to salute and go forth; but they took seat, and the king knew that they had a word they would fain address to him: so he turned to them (the Wazirs being also present) and said, “Ask your need.” Therefore they repeated to him all that the Ministers had taught them and the Wazirs also spoke with them; and Azadbakht said to them, “O folk, I would have it known to you that there is no doubt with me concerning this your speech proceeding from love and loyal counsel to me, and ye ken that, were I inclined to kill half these folk, I could do them die and this would not be hard to me; so how shall I not slay this youth and he in my power and in the hending of my hand? Indeed, his crime is manifest and he hath incurred death penalty; and I have deferred it only by reason of the greatness of the offence; for, an I do this with him and my proof against him be strengthened, my heart is healed and the heart of my whole folk; and if I slay him not to-day, his slaying shall not escape me to-morrow.” Then he bade fetch the youth who, when present between his hands, prostrated to him and blessed him; whereupon quoth the king, “Woe to thee! How long shall the folk upbraid me on thine account and blame me for delaying thy death? Even the people of my city reproach me because of thee, so that I am grown a prating-stock amongst them, and indeed they come in to me and reproach me for not putting thee to death. How long shall I delay this? Verily, this very day I mean to shed thy blood and rid the folk of thy prattling.” The youth replied, “O king, an there have betided thee talk because of me, by Allah, and again by Allah the Great, those who have brought on thee this talk from the folk are none but these wicked Wazirs, who chatter with the crowd and tell them foul tales and ill things in the king’s house, but I hope in the Most High that He will cause their malice to recoil upon their own heads. As for the king’s menace of slaying me, I am in the grip of his hand; so let not the king occupy his mind with my slaughter, because I am like the sparrow in the grasp of the fowler; if he will, he cutteth his throat, and if he will, he letteth him go. As for the delaying of my death, ’tis not from the king, but from Him in whose hand is my life; for, by Allah, O king, an the Almighty willed my slaughter, thou couldst not postpone it; no, not for a single hour. And, indeed, man availeth not to fend off evil from himself, even as it was with the son of King Sulayman Shah, whose anxiety and carefulness for the winning of his wish in the matter of the new-born child availed him naught, for his last hour was deferred how many a time! and Allah saved him until he had accomplished his period and had fulfilled his life-term.” Cried the king, “Fie upon thee, how great is thy craft and thy talk! Tell me, what was their tale.” And the youth said, “Hear, O king,
229 Arab. “Ajal”=the appointed day of death, also used for sudden death. See vol. i. 74.
230 i.e. the Autumnal Equinox, one of the two great festival days (the other being the New Year) of the Persians, and surviving in our Michaelmas. According to Al-Mas’udí (chap. xxi.), it was established to commemorate the capture of Zahhák (Azhi-Daháka), the biting snake (the Hindu Ahi) of night and darkness, the Greek Astyages, by Furaydun or Feridun. Prof. Sayce (Principles of Comparative Philology, p. 11) connects the latter with the Vedic deity Trita, who harnessed the Sun-horse (Rig. v. i. 163, 2, 3), the τριτογενεια of Homer, a title of Athene, the Dawn-goddess, and Burnouf proved the same Trita to be Thraétaona, son of Athwya, of the Avesta, who finally became Furaydún, the Greek Kyrus. See vol. v. 1.
There was once a king named Sulayman Sháh, who was goodly of policy and rede, and he had a brother who died and left a daughter; so Sulayman Shah reared her with the best of rearing and the girl became a model of reason and perfection, nor was there in her time a more beautiful than she. Now the king had two sons, one of whom he had appointed in his mind to wed her, while the other purposed to take her. The elder son’s name was Bahluwán232 and that of the younger Malik Sháh233, and the girl was called Sháh Khátún. Now one day, King Sulayman Shah went in to his brother’s daughter and kissing her head, said to her, “Thou art my daughter and dearer to me than a child, for the love of thy late father who hath found mercy; wherefore I purpose espousing thee to one of my sons and appointing him my heir apparent, so he may be king after me. Look, then, which thou wilt have of my sons,234 for that thou hast been reared with them and knowest them.” The maiden arose and kissing his hand, said to him, “O my lord, I am thine hand-maid and thou art the ruler over me; so whatever liketh thee do that same, inasmuch as thy wish is higher and honourabler and holier than mine and if thou wouldst have me serve thee as a hand-maid for the rest of my life, ’twere fairer to me than any mate.” The king commended her speech and conferred on her a robe of honour and gave her magnificent gifts; after which, his choice having fallen upon his younger son, Malik Shah, he wedded her with him and made him his heir apparent and bade the folk swear fealty to him. When this reached his brother Bahluwan and he was ware that his younger brother had by favour been preferred over him, his breast was straitened and the affair was sore to him and envy entered in to him and hate; but he hid this in his heart, whilst fire raged therein because of the damsel and the dominion. Meanwhile Shah Khatun went in bridal splendour to the king’s son and conceived by him and bare a son, as he were the illuming moon. When Bahluwan saw this betide his brother, envy and jealousy overcame him; so he went in one night to his father’s palace and coming to his brother’s chamber, saw the nurse sleeping at the door, with the cradle before her and therein his brother’s child asleep. Bahluwan stood by him and fell to looking upon his face, whose radiance was as that of the moon, and Satan insinuated himself into his heart, so that he bethought himself and said, “Why be not this babe mine? Verily, I am worthier of him than my brother; yea, and of the damsel and the dominion.” Then the idea got the mastery of him and anger drave him, so that he took out a knife, and setting it to the child’s gullet, cut his throat and would have severed his windpipe. So he left him for dead and entering his brother’s chamber, saw him asleep, with the Princess by his side, and thought to slay her, but said to himself, “I will leave the girl-wife for myself.” Then he went up to his brother and cutting his throat, parted head from body, after which he left him and went away. But now the world was straitened upon him and his life was a light matter to him and he sought the lodging of his sire Sulayman Shah, that he might slay him also, but could not get admission to him. So he went forth from the palace and hid himself in the city till the morrow, when he repaired to one of his father’s fortalices and therein fortified himself. On this wise it was with him; but as regards the nurse, she presently awoke that she might give the child suck, and seeing the cradle running with blood, cried out; whereupon the sleepers started up and the king was aroused and making for the place, found the child with his throat cut and the bed running over with blood and his father dead with a slit weasand in his sleeping chamber. They examined the child and found life in him and his windpipe whole and they sewed up the place of the wound: then the king sought his son Bahluwan, but found him not and saw that he had fled; so he knew that it was he who had done this deed, and this was grievous to the king and to the people of his realm and to the lady Shah Khatun. Thereupon the king laid out his son Malik Shah and buried him and made him a mighty funeral and they mourned with passing sore mourning; after which he applied himself to rearing the infant. As for Bahluwan, when he fled and fortified himself, his power waxed amain and there remained for him but to make war upon his father, who had cast his fondness upon the child and used to rear him on his knees and supplicate Almighty Allah that he might live, so he might commit the command to him. When he came to five years of age, the king mounted him on horseback and the people of the city rejoiced in him and prayed for him length of life, that he might take vengeance for his father235 and heal his grandsire’s heart. Meanwhile, Bahluwan the rebel236 addressed himself to pay court to Caesar, king of the Roum237 and crave aid of him in debelling his father, and he inclined unto him and gave him a numerous army. His sire the king hearing of this sent to Caesar, saying, “O glorious king of might illustrious, succour not an evil doer. This is my son and he hath done so and so and cut his brother’s throat and that of his brother’s son in the cradle.” But he told not the king of the Roum that the child had recovered and was alive. When Caesar heard the truth of the matter, it was grievous to him as grievous could be, and he sent back to Sulayman Shah, saying, “An it be thy wish, O king, I will cut off his head and send it to thee.” But he made answer, saying, “I care naught for him: soon and surely the reward of his deed and his crimes shall overtake him, if not to-day, then tomorrow.” And from that date he continued to exchange letters and presents with Caesar. Now the king of the Roum heard tell of the widowed Princess238 and of the beauty and loveliness wherewith she was endowed, wherefore his heart clave to her and he sent to seek her in wedlock of Sulayman Shah, who could not refuse him. So he arose and going in to Shah Khatun, said to her, “O my daughter, the king of the Roum hath sent to me to seek thee in marriage. What sayst thou?” She wept and replied, “O king, how canst thou find it in thy heart to address me thus? As for me, abideth there husband for me, after the son of my uncle?” Rejoined the king, “O my daughter, ’tis indeed as thou sayest; but here let us look to the issues of affairs. I must now take compt of death, for that I am a man short in years and fear not save for thee and for thy little son; and indeed I have written to the king of the Roum and others of the kings and said, His uncle slew him, and said not that he had recovered and is living, but concealed his affair. Now the king of the Roum hath sent to demand thee in marriage, and this is no thing to be refused and fain would we have our back strengthened with him.”239 And she was silent and spake not. So King Sulayman Shah made answer to Caesar with “Hearing and obeying.” Then he arose and despatched her to him, and Caesar went in to her and found her passing the description wherewith they had described her; wherefore he loved her every day more and more and preferred her over all his women and his affection for Sulayman Shah was increased; but Shah Khatun’s heart still clave to her child and she could say naught. As for Sulayman Shah’s son, the rebel Bahluwan, when he saw that Shah Khatun had married the king of the Roum, this was grievous to him and he despaired of her. Meanwhile, his father Sulayman Shah watched over the child and cherished him and named him Malik Shah, after the name of his sire. When he reached the age of ten, he made the folk do homage to him and appointed him his heir apparent, and after some days, the old king’s time for paying the debt of nature drew near and he died. Now a party of the troops had banded themselves together for Bahluwan; so they sent to him, and bringing him privily, went in to the little Malik Shah and seized him and seated his uncle Bahluwan on the throne of kingship. Then they proclaimed him king and did homage to him all, saying, “Verily, we desire thee and deliver to thee the throne of kingship; but we wish of thee that thou slay not thy brother’s son, because we are still bounden by the oaths we sware to his sire and his grandsire and the covenants we made with them.” So Bahluwan granted this to them and imprisoned the boy in an underground dungeon and straitened him. Presently, the grievous news reached his mother and this was to her a fresh grief; but she could not speak and committed her affair to Allah Almighty, for that she durst not name this to King Caesar her spouse, lest she should make her uncle King Sulayman Shah a liar. But as regards Bahluwan the Rebel, he abode king in his father’s place and his affairs prospered, while young Malik Shah lay in the souterrain four full-told years, till his favour faded and his charms changed. When He (extolled and exalted be He!) willed to relieve him and to bring him forth of the prison, Bahluwan sat one day with his chief Officers and the Lords of his land and discoursed with them of the story of his sire, King Sulayman Shah and what was in his heart. Now there were present certain Wazirs, men of worth, and they said to him, “O king, verily Allah hath been bountiful to thee and hath brought thee to thy wish, so that thou art become king in thy father’s place and hast won whatso thou wishedst. But, as for this youth, there is no guilt in him, because he, from the day of his coming into the world, hath seen neither ease nor pleasure, and indeed his favour is faded and his charms changed. What is his crime that he should merit such pains and penalties? Indeed, others than he were to blame, and hereto Allah hath given thee the victory over them, and there is no fault in this poor lad.” Quoth Bahluwan, “Verily, ’tis as ye say; but I fear his machinations and am not safe from his mischief; haply the most part of the folk will incline unto him.” They replied, “O king, what is this boy and what power hath he? An thou fear him, send him to one of the frontiers.” And Bahluwan said, “Ye speak sooth; so we will send him as captain of war to reduce one of the outlying stations.” Now over against the place in question was a host of enemies, hard of heart, and in this he designed the slaughter of the youth; so he bade bring him forth of the underground dungeon and caused him draw near to him and saw his case. Then he robed him, whereat the folk rejoiced, and bound for him the banners240 and, giving him a mighty many, despatched him to the quarter aforesaid, whither all who went or were slain or were taken. Accordingly Malik Shah fared thither with his force and when it was one of the days, behold, the enemy attacked them in the night; whereupon some of his men fled and the rest the enemy captured; and they seized Malik Shah also and cast him into a pit with a company of his men. His fellows mourned over his beauty and loveliness and there he abode a whole twelvemonth in evillest plight. Now at the beginning of every year it was the enemy’s wont to bring forth their prisoners and cast them down from the top of the citadel to the bottom; so at the customed time they brought them forth and cast them down, and Malik Shah with them. However, he fell upon the other men and the ground touched him not, for his term was God-guarded. But those who were cast down there were slain upon the spot and their bodies ceased not to lie there till the wild beasts ate them and the winds scattered their bones. Malik Shah abode strown in his place and aswoon, all that day and that night, and when he revived and found himself safe and sound, he thanked Allah the Most High for his safety and rising, left the place. He gave not over walking, unknowing whither he went and dieting upon the leaves of the trees; and by day he hid himself where he might and fared on at hazard all his night; and thus he did for some days, till he came to a populous part and seeing folk there, accosted them. He acquainted them with his case, giving them to know that he had been prisoned in the fortress and that they had thrown him down, but Almighty Allah had saved him and brought him off alive. The people had ruth on him and gave him to eat and drink and he abode with them several days; then he questioned them of the way that led to the kingdom of his uncle Bahluwan, but told them not that he was his father’s brother. So they showed him the road and he ceased not to go barefoot, till he drew near his uncle’s capital, naked, anhungered, and indeed his limbs were lean and his colour changed. He sat down at the city gate, when behold, up came a company of King Bahluwan’s chief officers, who were out a-hunting and wished to water their horses. They lighted down to rest and the youth accosted them, saying, “I would ask you of somewhat that ye may acquaint me therewith.” Quoth they, “Ask what thou wilt;” and quoth he, “Is King Bahluwan well?” They derided him and replied, “What a fool art thou, O youth! Thou art a stranger and a beggar, and whence art thou that thou should’st question concerning the king?”241 Cried he, “In very sooth, he is my uncle;” whereat they marvelled and said, “’Twas one catch-question242 and now ’tis become two.” Then said they to him, “O youth, it is as if thou wert Jinn-mad. Whence comest thou to claim kinship with the king? Indeed, we know not that he hath any kith and kin save a nephew, a brother’s son, who was prisoned with him, and he despatched him to wage war upon the infidels, so that they slew him.” Said Malik Shah, “I am he and they slew me not, but there befel me this and that.” They knew him forthwith and rising to him, kissed his hands and rejoiced in him and said to him, “O our lord, thou art indeed a king and the son of a king, and we desire thee naught but good and we pray for thy continuance. Look how Allah hath rescued thee from this wicked uncle, who sent thee to a place whence none ever came off safe and sound, purposing not in this but thy destruction; and indeed thou fellest upon death from which Allah delivered thee. How, then, wilt thou return and cast thyself again into thine foeman’s hand? By Allah, save thyself and return not to him this second time. Haply thou shalt abide upon the face of the earth till it please Almighty Allah to receive thee; but, an thou fall again into his hand, he will not suffer thee to live a single hour.” The Prince thanked them and said to them, “Allah reward you with all weal, for indeed ye give me loyal counsel; but whither would ye have me wend?” Quoth they, “To the land of the Roum, the abiding place of thy mother.” “But,” quoth he, “My grandfather Sulayman Shah, when the king of the Roum wrote to him demanding my mother in marriage, hid my affair and secreted my secret; and she hath done the same, and I cannot make her a liar.” Rejoined they, “Thou sayst sooth, but we desire thine advantage, and even wert thou to take service with the folk, ’twere a means of thy continuance.” Then each and every of them brought out to him money and gave him a modicum and clad him and fed him and fared on with him the length of a parasang, till they brought him far from the city, and letting him know that he was safe, departed from him, whilst he journeyed till he came forth of his uncle’s reign and entered the dominion of the Roum. Then he made a village and taking up his abode therein, applied himself to serving one there in earing and seeding and the like. As for his mother, Shah Khatun, great was her longing for her child and she thought of him ever and news of him was cut off from her, so her life was troubled and she foresware sleep and could not make mention of him before King Caesar her spouse. Now she had a Castrato who had come with her from the court of her uncle King Sulayman Shah, and he was intelligent, quick-witted, right-reded. So she took him apart one day and said to him, shedding tears the while, “Thou hast been my Eunuch from my childhood to this day; canst thou not therefore get me tidings of my son, seeing that I cannot speak of his matter?” He replied, “O my lady, this is an affair which thou hast concealed from the commencement, and were thy son here, ’twould not be possible for thee to entertain him, lest243 thine honour be smirched with the king; for they would never credit thee, since the news hath been bruited abroad that thy son was slain by his uncle.” Quoth she, “The case is even as thou sayst and thou speaketh sooth; but, provided I know that my son is alive, let him be in these parts pasturing sheep and let me not sight him nor he sight me.” He asked, “How shall we manage in this matter?” and she answered, “Here be my treasures and my wealth: take all thou wilt and bring me my son or else tidings of him.” Then they devised a device between them, which was that they should feign some business in their own country, to wit that she had wealth there buried from the time of her husband, Malik Shah, and that none knew of it but this Eunuch who was with her, so it behoved him to go fetch it. Accordingly she acquainted the king her husband with that and sought his permit for the Eunuch to fare: and the king granted him leave of absence for the journey and charged him devise a device, lest he come to grief. The Castrato, therefore, disguised himself in merchant’s habit and repairing to Bahluwan’s city, began to make espial concerning the youth’s case; whereupon they told him that he had been prisoned in a souterrain and that his uncle had released him and despatched him to such a place, where they had slain him. When the Eunuch heard this, the mishap was grievous to him and his breast was straitened and he knew not what to do. It chanced one day of the days that a certain of the horsemen, who had fallen in with the young Malik Shah by the water and clad him and given him spendingmoney, saw the Eunuch in the city, habited as a merchant, and recognising him, questioned him of his case and of the cause of his coming. Quoth he, “I came to sell merchandise;” and quoth the horseman, “I will tell thee somewhat, an thou canst keep it secret.” Answered the Neutral, “That I can! What is it?” and the other said, “We met the king’s son Malik Shah, I and sundry of the Arabs who were with me, and saw him by such a water and gave him spending-money and sent him towards the land of the Roum, near his mother, for that we feared for him lest his uncle Bahluwan slay him.” Then he told him all that had passed between them, whereat the Eunuch’s countenance changed and he said to the cavalier “Thou art safe!” The knight replied, “Thou also art safe though thou come in quest of him.” And the Eunuch rejoined, saying, “Truly, that is my errand: there is no rest for his mother, lying down or rising up, and she hath sent me to seek news of him.” Quoth the cavalier, “Go in safety, for he is in a quarter of the land of the Roum, even as I said to thee.” The Castrato thanked him and blessed him and mounting, returned upon his road, following the trail, whilst the knight rode with him to a certain highway, when he said to him, “This is where we left him.” Then he took leave of him and returned to his own city, whilst the Eunuch fared on along the road, enquiring in every village he entered of the youth, by the description which the rider had given him, and he ceased not thus to do till he came to the village wherein was young Malik Shah. So he entered, and dismounting, made enquiry after the Prince, but none gave him news of him; whereat he abode perplexed concerning his affair and made ready to depart. Accordingly he mounted his horse; but, as he passed through the village, he saw a cow bound with a rope and a youth asleep by her side, hending the halter in hand; so he looked at him and passed on and heeded him not in his heart; but presently he halted and said to himself, “An the youth whom I am questing have become the like of this sleeping youth whom I passed but now, how shall I know him? Alas, the length of my travail and travel! How shall I go about in search of a somebody I know not, one whom, if I saw him face to face I should not know?” So saying he turned back, musing anent that sleeping youth, and coming to him, he still sleeping, dismounted from his mare and sat down by his side. He fixed his eyes upon his face and considered him awhile and said in himself, “For aught I wot, this youth may be Malik Shah;” then he began hemming and saying, “Harkye, O youth!” Whereupon the sleeper awoke and sat up; and the Eunuch asked him, “Who be thy father in this village and where be thy dwelling?” The youth sighed and replied, “I am a stranger;” and quoth the Castrato, “From what land art thou and who is thy sire?” Quoth the other, “I am from such a land,” and the Eunuch ceased not to question him and he to answer his queries, till he was certified of him and knew him. So he rose and embraced him and kissed him and wept over his case: he also told him that he was wandering about in search of him and informed him that he was come privily from the king, his mother’s husband, and that his mother would be satisfied to weet that he was alive and well, though she saw him not. Then he re-entered the village and buying the Prince a horse, mounted him and they ceased not going till they came to the frontier of their own country, where there fell robbers upon them by the way and took all that was with them and pinioned them; after which they threw them in a pit hard by the road and went their ways and left them to die there; and indeed they had cast many folk into that pit and they had perished. The Eunuch fell a-weeping in the pit and the youth said to him, “What is this weeping and what shall it profit here?” Quoth the Castrato, “I weep not for fear of death, but of ruth for thee and the cursedness of thy case and because of thy mother’s heart and for that which thou hast suffered of horrors and that thy death should be this ignoble death, after the endurance of all manner dire distresses.” But the youth said, “That which hath betided me was writ to me and that which is written none hath power to efface; and if my life-term be advanced, none may defer it.”244 Then the twain passed that night and the following day and the next night and the next day in the hollow, till they were weak with hunger and came nigh upon death and could but groan feebly. Now it fortuned by the decree of Almighty Allah and His destiny, that Caesar, king of the Greeks, the spouse of Malik Shah’s mother Shah Khatun, went forth a-hunting that morning. He flushed a head of game, he and his company, and chased it, till they came up with it by that pit, whereupon one of them lighted down from his horse, to slaughter it, hard by the mouth of the hollow. He heard a sound of low moaning from the sole of the pit; whereat he arose and mounting his horse, waited till the troops were assembled. Then he acquainted the king with this and he bade one of his servants descend into the hollow: so the man climbed down and brought out the youth and the Eunuch in fainting condition. They cut their pinion-bonds and poured wine down their throats, till they came to themselves, when the king looked at the Eunuch and recognising him, said, “Harkye, Suchan-one!” The Castrato replied, “Yes, O my lord the king,” and prostrated himself to him; whereat the king wondered with exceeding wonder and asked him, “How camest thou to this place and what hath befallen thee?” The Eunuch answered, “I went and took out the treasure and brought it thus far; but the evil eye was behind me and I unknowing. So the thieves took us alone here and seized the money and cast us into this pit that we might die the slow death of hunger, even as they had done with others; but Allah the Most High sent thee, in pity to us.” The king marvelled, he and his, and praised the Lord for that he had come thither; after which he turned to the Castrato and said to him, “What is this youth thou hast with thee?” He replied, “O king, this is the son of a nurse who belonged to us and we left him when he was a little one. I saw him to-day and his mother said to me, ‘Take him with thee;’ so this morning I brought him that he might be a servant to the king, for that he is an adroit youth and a clever.” Then the king fared on, he and his company, and with them the Eunuch and the youth, who questioned his companion of Bahluwan and his dealing with his subjects, and he replied, saying, “As thy head liveth, O my lord the king, the folk are in sore annoy with him and not one of them wisheth a sight of him, be they high or low.” When the king returned to his palace, he went in to his wife Shah Khatun and said to her, “I give thee the glad tidings of thine Eunuch’s return;” and he told her what had betided and of the youth whom he had brought with him. When she heard this, her wits fled and she would have screamed, but her reason restrained her, and the king said to her, “What is this? Art thou overcome with grief for the loss of the monies or for that which hath befallen the Eunuch?” Said she, “Nay, as thy head liveth, O king, but women are weaklings.” Then came the Castrato and going in to her, told her all that had happened to him and also acquainted her with her son’s case and with that which he had suffered of distresses and how his uncle had exposed him to slaughter, and he had been taken prisoner and they had cast him into the pit and hurled him from the highmost of the citadel and how Allah had delivered him from these perils, all of them; and whilst he recounted to her all this, she wept. Then she asked him, “When the king saw him and questioned thee of him, what was it thou saidst him?” and he answered, “I said to him, ‘This is the son of a nurse who belonged to us. We left him a little one and he grew up; so I brought him, that he might be servant to the king.’” Cried she, “Thou didst well;” and she charged him to serve the Prince with faithful service. As for the king, he redoubled in kindness to the Castrato and appointed the youth a liberal allowance and he abode going in to and coming out of the king’s house and standing in his service, and every day he waxed better with him. As for Shah Khatun, she used to station herself at watch for him at the windows and in the balconies and gaze upon him, and she frying on coals of fire on his account; yet could she not speak. In such condition she abode a long while and indeed yearning for him was killing her; so she stood and watched for him one day at the door of her chamber and straining him to her bosom, bussed him on the breast and kissed him on either cheek. At this moment, behold, out came the major-domo of the king’s household and seeing her embracing the youth, started in amazement. Then he asked to whom that chamber belonged and was answered, “To Shah Khatun, wife of the king,” whereupon he turned back, quaking as one smitten by a leven-bolt. The king saw him in a tremor and said to him, “Out on thee! what is the matter?” Said he, “O king, what matter can be more grievous than that which I see?” Asked the king, “What seest thou?” and the officer answered, “I see that the youth, who came with the Eunuch, was not brought with him save on account of Shah Khatun; for I passed but now by her chamber door, and she was standing, watching; and when the youth came up, she rose to him and clipped him and kissed him on his cheek.” When the king heard this, he bowed his head amazed, perplexed, and sinking into a seat, clutched at his beard and shook it until he came nigh upon plucking it out. Then he arose forthright and laid hands on the youth and clapped him in jail. He also took the Eunuch and cast them both into a souterrain under his palace. After this he went in to Shah Khatun and said to her, “Brava, by Allah, O daughter of nobles. O thou whom kings sought to wed, for the purity of thy repute and the fairness of the fame of thee! How seemly is thy semblance! Now may Allah curse her whose inward contrarieth her outward, after the likeness of thy base favour, whose exterior is handsome and its interior fulsome, face fair and deeds foul! Verily, I mean to make of thee and of yonder ne’er-do-well an example among the lieges, for that thou sentest not thine Eunuch but of intent on his account, so that he took him and brought him into my palace and thou hast trampled245 my head with him; and this is none other than exceeding boldness; but thou shalt see what I will do with you all.” So saying, he spat in her face and went out from her; whilst Shah Khatun said nothing, well knowing that, an she spoke at that time, he would not credit her speech. Then she humbled herself in supplication to Allah Almighty and said, “O God the Great, Thou knowest the things by secrecy ensealed and their outwards revealed and their inwards concealed! If an advanced life-term be appointed to me, let it not be deferred, and if a deferred one, let it not be advanced!” On this wise she passed some days, whilst the king fell into bewilderment and forsware meat and drink and sleep, and abode knowing not what he should do and saying to himself, “An I slay the Eunuch and the youth, my soul will not be solaced, for they are not to blame, seeing that she sent to fetch him, and my heart careth not to kill them all three. But I will not be hasty in doing them die, for that I fear repentance.” Then he left them, so he might look into the affair. Now he had a nurse, a foster-mother, on whose knees he had been reared, and she was a woman of understanding and suspected him, yet dared not question him. So she went in to Shah Khatun and finding her in yet sadder plight than he, asked her what was to do; but she refused to answer. However, the nurse gave not over coaxing and questioning her, till she swore her to concealment. Accordingly, the old woman made oath that she would keep secret all that she should say to her, whereupon the Queen to her related her history, first and last, and told her that the youth was her son. With this the old woman prostrated herself before her and said to her, “This is a right easy matter.” But the Queen replied, “By Allah, O my mother, I prefer my destruction and that of my son to defending myself by a plea which they will not believe; for they will say, ‘She pleadeth this only that she may fend off shame from herself.’ And naught will profit me save long-suffering.” The old woman was moved by her speech and her wisdom and said to her, “Indeed, O my daughter, ’tis as thou sayest, and I hope in Allah that He will show forth the truth. Have patience and I will presently go in to the king and hear his words and machinate somewhat in this matter, Inshallah!” Thereupon the ancient dame arose and going in to the king, found him with his head between his knees in sore pain of sorrow. She sat down by him awhile and bespake him with soft words and said to him,246 “Indeed, O my son, thou consumest my vitals, for that these many days thou hast not mounted horse, and thou grievest and I know not what aileth thee.” He replied, “O my mother, all is due to yonder accursed, of whom I deemed so well and who hath done this and that.” Then he related to her the whole story from beginning to end, and she cried to him, “This thy chagrin is on account of a no-better-than-she-should-be!” Quoth he, “I was but considering by what death I should slay them, so the folk may take warning and repent.” And quoth she, “O my son, ‘ware precipitance, for it gendereth repentance and the slaying of them shall not escape thee. When thou art assured of this affair, do whatso thou willest.” He rejoined, “O my mother, there needeth no assurance anent him for whom she despatched her Eunuch and he fetched him.” But she retorted, “There is a thing wherewith we will make her confess,247 and all that is in her heart shall be discovered to thee.” Asked the king, “What is that?” and she answered, “I will bring thee the heart of a hoopoe,248 which, when she sleepeth, do thou lay upon her bosom and question her of everything thou wouldst know, and she will discover the same unto thee and show forth the truth to thee.” The king rejoiced in this and said to his nurse, “Hasten thou and let none know of thee.” So she arose and going in to the Queen, said to her, “I have done thy business and ’tis as follows. This night the king will come in to thee and do thou seem asleep; and if he ask thee of aught, do thou answer him, as if in thy sleep.” The Queen thanked her and the old dame went away and fetching the bird’s heart, gave it to the king. Hardly was the night come, when he went in to his wife and found her lying back, a-slumbering; so he sat down by her side and laying the hoopoe’s heart on her breast, waited awhile, so he might be assured that she slept. Then said he to her, “Shah Khatun,249 Shah Khatun, is this my reward from thee?” Quoth she, “What offence have I committed?” and quoth he, “What offence can be greater than this? Thou sentest after yonder youth and broughtest him hither, on account of the lust of thy heart, so thou mightest do with him that for which thou lustedst.” Said she, “I know not carnal desire. Verily, among thy pages are those who are comelier and seemlier than he; yet have I never desired one of them.” He asked “Why, then, didst thou lay hold of him and kiss him?” And she answered, “This youth is my son and a piece of my liver; and of my longing and affection for him, I could not contain myself, but sprang upon him and kissed him.” When the king heard this, he was dazed and amazed and said to her, “Hast thou a proof that this youth is thy son? Indeed, I have a letter from thine uncle King Sulayman Shah, informing me that his uncle Bahluwan cut his throat.” Said she “Yes, he did indeed cut his throat, but severed not the wind-pipe; so my uncle sewed up the wound and reared him, for that his life-term was not come.” When the king heard this, he said, “This proof sufficeth me,” and rising forthright in the night, bade bring the youth and the Eunuch. Then he examined his stepson’s throat with a candle and saw the scar where it had been cut from ear to ear, and indeed the place had healed up and it was like a thread stretched out. Thereupon the king fell down prostrate before Allah, who had delivered the Prince from all these perils and from the distresses he had suffered, and rejoiced with joy exceeding because he had delayed and had not made haste to slay him, in which case mighty sore repentance had betided him.250 “As for the youth,” continued the young treasurer, “he was not saved but because his life-term was deferred, and in like manner, O king, ’tis with me: I too have a deferred term, which I shall attain, and a period which I shall accomplish, and I trust in Almighty Allah that He will give me the victory over these villain Wazirs.” When the youth had made an end of his speech, the king said, “Restore him to the prison;” and when they had done this, he turned to the Ministers and said to them, “Yonder youth lengtheneth his tongue upon you, but I know your tenderness for the weal of mine empire and your loyal counsel to me; so be of good heart, for all that ye advise me I will do.” They rejoiced when they heard these words, and each of them said his say. Then quoth the king, “I have not deferred his slaughter but to the intent that the talk might be prolonged and that words might abound, yet shall he now be slain without let or stay, and I desire that forthright ye set up for him a gibbet without the town and that the crier cry among the folk bidding them assemble and take him and carry him in procession to the gibbet, with the crier crying before him and saying, ‘This is the reward of him whom the king delighted to favour and who hath betrayed him!’” The Wazirs rejoiced when they heard this, and for their joy slept not that night; and they made proclamation in the city and set up the gallows.
231 In Chavis and Cazotte, “Story of Selimansha and his Family.”
232 Arab. for Pers. Pahluwán (from Pahlau) a brave, a warrior, an athlete, applied in India to a champion in any gymnastic exercise, especially in wrestling. The Frenchman calls him “Balavan”; and the Bresl. text in more than one place (p. 312) calls him “Bahwán.”
233 i.e. King (Arab.) King (Persian): we find also Sultan Malik Shah=King King King.
234 Arab. “Aulád-í,” a vulgarism, plural for dual.
235 Mr. Payne translates, “so he might take his father’s leavings” i.e. heritage, reading “Ásár” which I hold to be a clerical error for Sár=Vendetta, blood revenge (Bresl. Edit. vi. 310).
236 Arab. “Al-’Ásí” the pop. term for one who refuses to obey a constituted authority and syn. with Pers. “Yághí.” “Ant ’Ásí?” Wilt thou not yield thyself? says a policeman to a refractory Fellah.
237 i.e. of the Greeks: so in Kor. xxx. 1. “Alif Lam Mim, the Greeks (Al-Roum) have been defeated.” Mr. Rodwell curiously remarks that “the vowel-points for ‘defeated’ not being originally written, would make the prophecy true in either event, according as the verb received an active or passive sense in pronunciation.” But in discovering this mare’s nest, a rank piece of humbug like Aio te Aeacida, etc., he forgets that all the Prophet’s “Companions,” numbering some 5000, would pronounce it only in one way and that no man could mistake “ghalabat” (active) for “ghulibat” (passive).
238 The text persistently uses “Járiyah”=damsel, slave-girl, for the politer “Sabiyah”=young lady, being written in a rude and uncourtly style.
239 So our familiar phrase “Some one to back us.”
240 Arab. “’Akkada lahu ráy,” plur. of ráyat, a banner. See vol. iii. 307.
241 i.e. “What concern hast thou with the king’s health?” The question is offensively put.
242 Arab. “Masalah,” a question; here an enigma.
243 Arab. “Liallá” (i.e. li, an, lá) lest; but printed here and elsewhere with the yá as if it were “laylan,”=for a single night.
244 i.e. if my death be fated to befal to-day, none may postpone it to a later date.
245 Arab. “Dustí”: so the ceremony vulgarly called “Doseh” and by the ItaloEgyptians “Dosso,” the riding over disciples’ backs by the Shaykh of the Sa’diyah Darwayshes (Lane M.E. chapt. xxv.) which took place for the last time at Cairo in 1881.
246 In Chavis and Cazotte she conjures him “by the great Maichonarblatha Sarsourat” (Míat wa arba’at ashar Súrat)=the 114 chapters of the Alcoran.
247 I have noted that Moslem law is not fully satisfied without such confession which, however, may be obtained by the bastinado. It is curious to compare English procedure with what Moslem would be in such a case as that of the famous Tichborne Claimant. What we did need hardly be noticed. An Arab judge would in a case so suspicious at once have applied the stick and in a quarter of an hour would have settled the whole business; but then what about the “Devil’s own,” the lawyers and lawyers’ fees? And he would have remarked that the truth is not less true because obtained by such compulsory means.
248 The Hudhud, so called from its cry “Hood! Hood!” It is the Lat. upupa, Gr. §B@R from its supposed note epip or upup; the old Egyptian Kukufa; Heb. Dukiphath and Syriac Kikuphá (Bochart Hierozoicon, part ii. 347). The Spaniards call it Gallo de Marzo (March-Cock) from its returning in that month, and our old writers “lapwing” (Deut. xiv. 18). This foul-feeding bird derives her honours from chapt. xxvii. of the Koran (q.v.), the Hudhud was sharp-sighted and sagacious enough to discover water underground which the devils used to draw after she had marked the place by her bill.
249 Here the vocative Yá is designedly omitted in poetical fashion (e.g., Khalíliyya — my friend!) to show the speaker’s emotion. See p. 113 of Captain A. Lockett’s learned and curious work the “Miet Amil” (=Hundred Regimens), Calcutta, 1814.
250 The story-teller introduces this last instance with considerable art as a preface to the dénoûement.
When it was the eleventh day, the Wazirs repaired in early morning to the king’s gate and said to him, “O king, the folk are assembled from the portals of the palace to the gibbet, to the end they may see the king’s order carried out on the youth.” So Azadbakht bade fetch the prisoner and they brought him; whereupon the Ministers turned to him and said to him, “O vile of birth, can any lust for life remain with thee and canst thou hope for deliverance after this day?” Said he, “O wicked Wazirs, shall a man of understanding renounce all esperance in Almighty Allah? Howsoever a man be oppressed, there cometh to him deliverance from the midst of distress and life from the midst of death, as in the case of the prisoner and how Allah delivered him.” Asked the king, “What is his story?” and the youth answered, saying, “O king, they tell
There was once a king of the kings, who had a high palace, overlooking his prison, and he used to hear in the night one saying, “O Ever-present Deliverer, O Thou whose deliverance is aye present, relieve Thou me!” One day the king waxed wroth and said, “Yonder fool looketh for relief from the pains and penalties of his crime.” Then said he to his officers, “Who is in yonder jail?” and said they, “Folk upon whom blood hath been found.”252 Hearing this the king bade bring that man before him and said to him, “O fool, O little of wit, how shalt thou be delivered from this prison, seeing that thy crime is mortal?” Then he committed him to a company of his guards and said to them, “Take this wight and crucify him within sight of the city.” Now it was the night season. So the soldiers carried him without the city, thinking to crucify him, when behold, there came out upon them robbers and fell upon them with swords and other weapons. Thereat the guards left him whom they purposed to slay and fled whilst the man who was going to slaughter also took to flight and plunging deep into the desert, knew not whither he went before he found himself in a copse and there came out upon him a lion of terrible aspect, who snatched him up and cast him under him. Then he went up to a tree and uprooting it, covered the man therewithal and made off into the thicket, in quest of the lioness.253 As for the man, he committed his affair to Allah the Most High, relying upon Him for deliverance, and said to himself, “What is this affair?” Then he removed the leaves from himself and rising, saw great plenty of men’s bones there, of those whom the lion had devoured. He looked again and behold, he saw a heap of gold lying alongside a purse-belt;254 whereat he marvelled and gathering up the gold in the breast of his gaberdine, went forth of the copse and fled at hap-hazard, turning neither to the right nor to the left, in his fear of the lion; nor did he cease flying till he came to a village and cast himself down, as he were dead. He lay there till the day appeared and he was rested from his travail, when he arose and burying the gold, entered the village. Thus Allah gave him relief and he got the gold. Then said the king, “How long wilt thou beguile us, O youth, with thy prate? But now the hour of thy slaughter is come.” So he bade crucify him upon the gibbet. But as they were about to hoist him up, lo and behold! the Captain of the thieves, who had found him and reared him, came up at that moment and asked, “What be this assembly and the cause of the crowds here gathered together?” They informed him that a page of the king had committed a mighty great crime and that he was about to do him die; so the Captain of the thieves pressed forward and looking upon the prisoner, knew him, whereupon he went up to him and strained him to his bosom and threw his arms round his neck, and fell to kissing him upon his mouth.255 Then said he, “This is a boy I found under such a mountain, wrapped in a gown of brocade, and I reared him and he fell to cutting the way with us. One day, we set upon a caravan, but they put us to flight and wounded some of us and took the lad and ganged their gait. From that day to this I have gone round about the lands seeking him, but have not found news of him till now; and this is he.” When the king heard this, he was assured that the youth was his very son; so he cried out at the top of his voice and casting himself upon him, embraced him and kissed him and shedding tears, said, “Had I put thee to death, as was mine intent, I should have died of regret for thee.” Then he cut his pinion-bonds and taking his crown from his head, set it on the head of his son, whereupon the people raised cries of joy, whilst the trumpets blared and the kettledrums beat and there befel a mighty great rejoicing. They decorated the city and it was a glorious day; even the birds stayed their flight in the welkin, for the greatness of the greeting and the clamour of the crying. The army and the folk carried the prince to the palace in splendid procession, and the news came to his mother Bahrjaur, who fared forth and threw herself upon him. Moreover, the king bade open the prison and bring forth all who were therein, and they held high festival seven days and seven nights and rejoiced with a mighty rejoicing. Thus it betided the youth; but as regards the Ministers, terror and silence, shame and affright fell upon them and they gave themselves up for lost. After this the king sat, with his son by his side and the Wazirs on their knees before him, and summoned his chief officers and the subjects of the city. Then the prince turned to the Ministers and said to them, “See, O villain Wazirs, the work of Allah and his speedy relief.” But they answered ne’er a syllable and the king said, “It sufficeth me that there is nothing alive but rejoiceth with me this day, even to the birds in the sky, but ye, your breasts are straitened. Indeed, this is the greatest of hostility in you mewards, and had I hearkened to you, my regret had been prolonged and I had died miserably of sorrow.” Quoth the prince, “O my father, but for the fairness of thy thought and thy perspicacity and thy longanimity and deliberation in affairs, there had not betided thee this great joy. Hadst thou slain me in haste, repentance would have been sore on thee and longsome annoy, and on this wise whoso preferreth haste shall rue.” Presently the king sent for the Captain of the robbers and bade indue him with a robe of honour, commanding that all who loved the king should doff their dresses and cast them upon him.256 So there fell robes of honour on him, till he was a-wearied with their weight, and Azadbakht invested him with the mastership of the police of his city. Then he bade set up other nine gibbets by the side of the first and said to his son, “Thou art innocent, and yet these villain Wazirs strave for thy slaughter.” Replied the prince, “O my sire, I had no fault in their eyes but that I was a loyal counsellor to thee and still kept watch over thy wealth and withdrew their hands from thy hoards and treasuries; wherefore they were jealous and envied me and plotted against me and planned to slay me.” Quoth the king, “The time of retribution is at hand, O my son; but what be thy rede we should do with them in requital of that they did with thee? And indeed they have striven for thy slaughter and exposed thee to disgrace and smirched mine honour among the kings.” Then he turned to the Wazirs and said to them, “Woe to you! What liars ye are! And is aught of excuse left to you?” Said they, “O king, there remaineth no excuse for us and we are houghed257 by the deed we would have done to him. Indeed we planned evil to this youth and it hath reverted upon us, and we plotted mischief against him and it hath overtaken us; yea, we digged for him a pit and we ourselves have fallen into it.” So the king bade hoist up the Wazirs upon the gibbets and crucify them there, because Allah is just and decreeth that which is due. Then Azadbakht and his wife and son abode in joyance and gladness, till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and they died all; and extolled be the Living One, who dieth not, to whom be glory and whose mercy be upon us for ever and ever! Amen.
251 See Chavis and Cazotte “Story of the King of Haram and the slave.”
252 i.e. men caught red-handed.
253 Arab. “Libwah,” one of the multitudinous names for the king of beasts, still used in Syria where the animal has been killed out, soon to be followed by the bear (U. Syriacus). The author knows that lions are most often found in couples.
254 Arab. “Himyán or Hamyán,”=a girdle.
255 As he would kiss a son. I have never yet seen an Englishman endure these masculine kisses, formerly so common in France and Italy, without showing clearest signs of his disgust.
256 A cheap way of rewarding merit, not confined to Eastern monarchs, but practised by all contemporary Europe.
257 Arab. “Kasf,”=houghing a camel so as to render it helpless. The passage may read. “we are broken to bits (Kisí) by our own sin.”
It is told of Ja’afar bin Yahyá the Barmecide that he sat down one day to wine and, being minded to be private, sent for his boon-companions, with whom he was most familiar, and charged the chamberlain that he suffer none of the creatures of Almighty Allah to enter, save a man of his cup-mates, by name Abd al-Malik bin Sálih, who was behindhand with them. Then they donned brightly-dyed dresses.259 for it was their wont, as often as they sat in the wine-séance, to endue raiment of red and yellow and green silk, and they sat down to drink, and the cups went round the lutes thrilled and shrilled. Now there was a man of the kinsfolk of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid, by name Abd al-Malik bin Salih260 bin Ali bin Abdallah bin al-Abbas,261 who was great of gravity and sedateness, piety and propriety, and Al-Rashid used instantly to require that he should company him in converse and carouse and drink with him and had offered him to such end abounding wealth, but he never would. It fortuned that this Abd al-Malik bin Salih came to the door of Ja’afar bin Yahya, so he might bespeak him of certain requisitions of his, and the chamberlain, doubting not but he was the Abd al-Malik bin Salih aforesaid (whom Ja’afar had permitted him admit and that he should suffer none but him to enter), allowed him to go in to his master. Accordingly Abd al-Malik went in, garbed in black, with his Rusáfiyah262 on his head. When Ja’afar saw him, his reason was like to depart for shame and he understood the case, to wit, that the chamberlain had been deceived by the likeness of the name; and Abd al-Malik also perceived how the matter stood and perplexity was manifest to him in Ja’afar’s face. So he put on a cheery countenance and said, “No harm be upon you!263 Bring us of these dyed clothes.” Thereupon they brought him a dyed robe264 and he donned it and sat discoursing gaily with Ja’afar and jesting with him. Then said he, “Allow us to be a partaker in your pleasures, and give us to drink of your Nabíz.”265 So they brought him a silken robe and poured him out a pint, when he said, “We crave your indulgence, for we have no wont of this.” Accordingly Ja’afar ordered a flagon of Nabíz be set before him, that he might drink whatso he pleased. Then, having anointed himself with perfumes, he chatted and jested with them till Ja’afar’s bosom broadened and his constraint ceased from him and his shame, and he rejoiced in this with joy exceeding and asked Abd al-Malik, “What is thine errand? Inform me thereof, for I cannot sufficiently acknowledge they courtesy.” Answered the other, “I come (amend thee Allah!) on three requirements, of which I would have thee bespeak the Caliph; to wit, firstly, I have on me a debt to the amount of a thousand thousand dirhams,266 which I would have paid: secondly, I desire for my son the office of Wali or governor of a province,267 whereby his rank may be raised: and thirdly, I would fain have thee marry him to Al-’Aliyah, the daughter of the Commander of the Faithful, for that she is his cousin and he is a match for her.” Ja’afar said, “Allah accomplisheth unto thee these three occasions. As for the money, it shall be carried to thy house this very hour: as for the government, I make thy son Viceroy of Egypt; and as for the marriage, I give him to mate Such-an-one, the daughter of our lord the Prince of True Believers, at a dowry of such and such a sum. So depart in the assurance of Allah Almighty.” Accordingly Abd al-Malik went away much astonished at Ja’afar’s boldness in undertaking such engagements. He fared straight for his house, whither he found that the money had preceded him, and in the morrow Ja’afar presented himself before Al-Rashid and acquainted him with what had passed, and that he had appointed Abd al-Malik’s son Wali of Egypt268 and had promised him his daughter, Al-’Aliyah to wife. The Caliph was pleased to approve of this and he confirmed the appointment and the marriage. Then he sent for the young man and he went not forth of the palace of the Caliphate till Al-Rashid wrote him the patent of investiture with the government of Egypt; and he let bring the Kazis and the witnesses and drew up the contract of marriage.
258 Bresl. Edit., vol. vii. pp. 251-4, Night dlxv.
259 See vol. vi. 175. A Moslem should dress for public occasions, like the mediaeval student, in vestibus (quasi) nigris aut subfuscis; though not, except amongst the Abbasides, absolutely black, as sable would denote Jewry.
260 A well-known soldier and statesman, noted for piety and austerity. A somewhat fuller version of this story, from which I have borrowed certain details, is given in the Biographical Dictionary of Ibn Khallikán (i. 303-4). The latter, however, calls the first Abd al-Malik “Ibn Bahrán” (in the index Ibn Bahrám), which somewhat spoils the story. “Ibn Khallikan,” by-the-by, is derived popularly from “Khalli” (let go), and “Kána” (it was, enough), a favourite expression of the author, which at last superseded his real name, Abu al-Abbás Ahmad. He is better off than the companion nicknamed by Mohammed Abú Horayrah=Father of the She-kitten (not the cat), and who in consequence has lost his true name and pedigree.
261 In Ibn Khallikán (i. 303) he is called the “Hashimite,” from his ancestor, Hashim ibn Abd Manáf. The Hashimites and Abbasides were fine specimens of the Moslem “Pharisee,” as he is known to Christians, not the noble Purushi of authentic history.
262 Meaning a cap, but of what shape we ignore. Ibn Khallikan afterwards calls it a “Kalansúa,” a word still applied to a mitre worn by Christian priests.
263 Arab. “Lá baas,” equivalent in conversation to our “No matter,” and “All right.”
264 As a member of the reigning family, he wore black clothes, that being the especial colour of the Abbasides, adopted by them in opposition to the rival dynasty of the Ommiades, whose family colour was white, that of the Fatimites being green. The Moslems borrowed their sacred green, “the hue of the Pure,” from the old Nabatheans and the other primitive colours from the tents of the captains who were thus distinguished. Hence also amongst the Turks and Tartars, the White Horde and the Black Horde.
265 The word has often occurred, meaning date-wine or grape-wine. Ibn Khaldún contends that in Ibn Khallikan it here means the former.
266 £25,000. Ibn Khallikan (i. 304) makes the debt four millions of dirhams or £90,000-£100,000.
267 In the Biographer occurs the equivalent phrase, “That a standard be borne over his head.”
268 Here again we have a suggestion that Ja’afar presumed upon his favour with the Caliph; such presumption would soon be reported (perhaps by the austère intrigant himself) to the royal ears, and lay the foundation of ill-will likely to end in utter destruction.
It is said that the most wondrous of matters which happened to Al-Rashid was this. his brother Al-Hádí,270 when he succeeded to the Caliphate, enquired of a seal-ring of great price, which had belonged to his father Al-Mahdi,271 and it reached him that Al-Rashid had taken it. So he required it of him, but he refused to give it up, and Al-Hadi insisted upon him, yet he still denied the seal-ring of the Caliphate. Now this was on Tigris-bridge, and he threw the ring into the river.272 When Al-Hadi died and Al-Rashid succeeded to the Caliphate, he went in person to that very place with a seal-ring of lead, which he cast into the stream at the same stead, and bade the divers seek it. So the duckers did his bidding and brought up the first ring, and this was counted an omen of Al-Rashid’s good fortune and of the continuance of his reign.273 When Al-Rashid come to the throne, he invested Ja’afar bin Yahyá bin Khálid al-Barmaki274 with the Wazirate. Now Ja’afar was eminently noted for generosity and munificence, and the histories of him to this purport are renowned and have been documented. None of the Wazirs rose to the rank and favour whereto he attained with Al-Rashid, who was wont to call him brother275 and used to carry him with him into his house. The period of his Wazirate was nineteen276 years, and Yahya one day said to his son Ja’afar, “O my son, as long as thy reed trembleth,277 water it with kindness.” Men differ concerning the reason of Ja’afar’s slaughter, but the better opinion of it is follows. Al-Rashid could not bear to be parted from Ja’afar nor from his own sister ’Abbásah, daughter of Al-Mahdi, a single hour, and she was the loveliest woman of her day; so he said to Ja’afar, “I will marry thee to her, that it may be lawful to thee to look upon her, but thou shalt not touch her.” After this time the twain used to be present in Al-Rashid’s sitting chamber. Now the Caliph would get up bytimes and leave the chamber, and they being filled with wine as well as being young, Ja’afar would rise to her and know her carnally.278 She conceived by him and bare a handsome boy; and, fearing Al-Rashid, she dispatched the new-born child by one of her confidants to Meccah the Magnified (May Allah Almighty greaten it in honor and increase it in venerance and nobility and magnification!). the affair abode concealed till there befel a brabble between Abbasah and one of her hand-maidens whereupon the slave-girl discovered the affair of the child to Al-Rashid and acquainted him with its abiding-place. So, when the Caliph pilgrimaged, he sent one who brought him the boy and found the matter true, where he caused befel the Barmecides whatso befel.279
269 Bresl. Edit., vol. vii. pp. 258-60, Night dlxvii.
270 Fourth Abbaside, A.D. 785-786, vol. v. 93. He was a fantastic tyrant who was bent upon promoting to the Caliphate his own son, Ja’afar; he cast Harun into prison and would probably have slain him but for the intervention of the mother of one of the two brothers, Khayzarán widow of Al-Mahdi, and Yahya the Barmecide.
271 Third Abbaside, A.D. 775-785, vol. vii. 136; ix. 334.
272 This reminds us of the Bir Al-Khátim (Well of the Signet) at Al-Medinah; in which Caliph Osman during his sixth year dropped from his finger the silver ring belonging to the founder of Al-Islam, engraved in three lines with “Mohammed / Apostle (of) / Allah /.” It had served to sign the letters sent to neighboring kings and had descended to the first three successors (Pilgrimage ii. 219). Mohammed owned three seal-rings, the golden one he destroyed himself; and the third, which was of carnelian, was buried with other objects by his heirs. The late Subhi Pasha used to declare that the latter had been brought to him with early Moslem coins by an Arab, and when he died he left it to the Sultan.
273 Mr. Payne quotes Al-Tabari’s version of this anecdote. “El-Mehdi had presented his son Haroun with a ruby ring, worth a hundred thousand dinars, and the latter being one day with his brother (the then reigning Khalif), El Hadi saw the ring on his finger and desired it. So, when Haroun went out from him, he sent after him, to seek the ring of him. The Khalif’s messenger overtook Er Reshid on the bridge over the Tigris and acquainted him with his errand; whereupon the prince, enraged at the demand, pulled off the ring and threw it into the river. When El Hadi died and Er Rashid succeeded to the throne, he went with his suite to the bridge in question and bade his Vizier Yehya ben Khalid send for divers and cause them to make search for the ring. It had then been five months in the water and no one believed it would be found. However, the divers plunged into the river and found the ring in the very place where he had thrown it in, whereat Haroun rejoiced with an exceeding joy, regarding it as a presage of fair fortune.”
274 Not historically correct. Al-Rashid made Yáhyà, father of Ja’afar, his Wazir; and the minister’s two sons, Fazl and Ja’afar, acted as his lieutenants for seventeen years from A.D. 786 till the destruction of the Barmecides in A.D. 803. The tale-teller quotes Ja’afar because he was the most famous of the house.
275 Perhaps after marrying Ja’afar to his sister. But the endearing name was usually addressed to Ja’afar’s elder brother Fazl, who was the Caliph’s foster-brother.
276 Read seventeen: all these minor inaccuracies tend to invalidate the main statement.
277 Arab. “Yar’ad” which may mean “thundereth.” The dark saying apparently means, Do good whilst thou art in power and thereby strengthen thyself.
278 The lady seems to have made the first advances and Bin Abú Hájilah quotes a sixaine in which she amorously addresses her spouse. See D’Herbelot, s.v. Abbassa.
279 The tale-teller passes with a very light hand over the horrors of a massacre which terrified and scandalised the then civilised world, and which still haunt Moslem history. The Caliph, like the eking, can do no wrong; and, as Viceregent of Allah upon Earth, what would be deadly crime and mortal sin in others becomes in his case an ordinance from above. These actions are superhuman events and fatal which man must not judge nor feel any sentiment concerning them save one of mysterious respect. For the slaughter of the Barmecides, see my Terminal Essay, vol. x.
It is related that Ibn al-Sammák281 went in one day to Al-Rashid, and the Caliph, being athirst, called for drink. So his cup was brought him, and when he took it, Ibn al-Sammak said to him, “Softly, O Prince of True Believers! An thou wert denied this draught, with how much wouldst thou buy it?” He replied, “With the half of my reign;” and Ibn al-Sammak said, “Drink and Allah make it grateful to thee!” Then, when he had drunken; he asked him, “An thou wert denied the issuing forth of the draught from thy body, with what wouldst thou buy its issue?” Answered Al-Rashid, “With the whole of my reign;” and Ibn al-Sammak said, “O Commander of the Faithful, verily, a realm that weighteth not in the balance against a draught of water or a voiding of urine is not worth the striving for.” And Harun wept.
280 Bresl. Edit., vol. vii. pp. 260-1, Night dlxviii.
281 Ibn al-Sammák (Son of the fisherman or fishmonger), whose name was Abú al-Abbás Mohammed bin Sabíh, surnamed Al-Mazkúr (Ibn al-Athir says Al-Muzakkar), was a native of Kufah (where he died in A.H. 183 = 799-80), a preacher and professional tale-teller famed as a stylist and a man of piety. Al-Siyuti (p. 292) relates of him that when honoured by the Caliph with courteous reception he said to him, “Thy humility in thy greatness is nobler than thy greatness.” He is known to have been the only theologician who, ex cathedrâ, promised Al-Rashid a place in Paradise.
It is said that Al-Maamún283 came one day upon Zubaydah, mother of Al-Amín,284 and saw her moving her lips and muttering somewhat he understood not; so he said to her, “O mother mine, art thou cursing me because I slew thy son and spoiled him of his realm?” Said she, “Not so, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful!” and quoth he, “What then was it thou saidest?” Quoth she, “Let the Prince of True Believers excuse me.” But he was urgent with her, saying, “There is no help but that thou tell it.” And she replied, “I said, Allah confound importunity!” He asked, “How so?” and she answered, “I played one day at chess with the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, and he imposed on me the condition of forfeits.285 He won and made me doff my dress and walk around the palace, stark naked; so I did this, and I felt incensed against him. Then we fell to playing and I won; whereat I made him go to the kitchen and lie with the foulest and fulsomest wench of the wenches thereof; but I found not a slave-girl fouler and filthier than they mother;286 so I so bade him tumble her. He did my bidding and she conceived by him of thee, and thus was I the cause of the slaying of my son and the spoiling of him of his realm.” When Al-Maamún heard this, he turned away, saying, “Allah curse the importunate!” that is, himself, who had importuned her till she acquainted him with that affair.
282 Bresl. Edit., vol. vii. pp. 261-2, Night dlxviii.
283 Seventh Abbaside, A.H. 198-227 = 813-842. See vol. iv. 109. He was a favourite with his father, who personally taught him tradition; but he offended the Faithful by asserting the creation of the Koran, by his leaning to Shi’ah doctrine, and by changing the black garments of the Banu Abbas into green. He died of a chill at Budandun, a day’s march from Tarsus, where he was buried: for this Podendon = πόδα τείνειν = stretch out thy feet, see Al-Siyuti, pp. 326-27.
284 Sixth Abbaside, A.D. 809-13. See vol. v. 93: 152. He was of pure Abbaside blood on the father’s side and his mother Zubaydah’s. But he was unhappy in his Wazir Al-Fazl bin Rabí, the intriguer against the Barmecides, who estranged him from his brothers Al-Kásim and Al-Maamún. At last he was slain by a party of Persians, “who struck him with their swords and cut him through the nape of his neck and went with his head to Tahir bin al-Husayn, general to Al-Maamún, who set it upon a garden-wall and made proclamation, This is the head of the deposed Mohammed (Al-Amín).” Al-Siyuti, pp. 306-311. It was remarked by Moslem annalists that every sixth Abbaside met with a violent death: the first was this Mohammed al-Amin surnamed Al-Makhlú’ = The Deposed; the second sixth was Al-Musta’ín; and the last was Al-Muktadí bi’lláh.
285 Lit. “Order and acceptance.” See the Tale of the Sandal-wood Merchant and the Sharpers: vol. vi. 202.
286 This is not noticed by Al-Siyuta (p. 318) who says that his mother was a slave-concubine named Marájil who died in giving him birth. The tale in the text appears to be a bit of Court scandal, probably suggested by the darkness of the Caliph’s complexion.
It is said that Al-Nu’umán288 had two boon-companions, one of whom was hight Ibn Sa’ad and the other Amrú bin al-Malik, and he became one night drunken and bade bury them alive; so they buried him. When he arose on the morrow, he asked for them and was acquainted with their affair, whereupon he built over them a building and appointed to himself a day of ill-luck and a day of good fortune. If any met him on his unlucky day, he slew him and with his blood he washed that monument, which is a place well known in Kufah; and if any met him on this day of good fortune he enriched him. Now there accosted him once, on his day of ill-omen, an Arab of the Banú Tay289 and Al-Nu’uman would have done him dead; but the Arab said, “Allah quicken the king! I have two little girls and have made none guardian over them; wherefore, and the king see fit to grant me leave to go to them, I will give him the covenant of Allah290 that I will return to him, as soon as I shall have appointed unto them a guardian.” Al-Nu’uman had ruth on him and said to him, “An a man will be surety for thee of those who are with us, I will let thee go, and if thou return not I will slay him.” Now there was with Al-Nu’uman his Wazir Sharik bin Amru: so the Táí291 looked at him and said,
“Ho thou, Sharik, O Amru-son is there fro’ Death repair?
O brother to men brotherless, brother to all in care!
O brother of Al-Nu’uman an old man this day spare,
An old man slain and Allah deign fair meed for thee prepare!”
Quoth Sharik, “On me be his warranty, Allah assign the king!” So the Táí departed, after a term had been assigned him for his returning. Now when the appointed day arrived, Al-Nu’uman sent for Sharik and said to him, “Verily the high noon of this day is past;” and Sharik answered, “the king hath no procedure against me till it be eventide.” Whenas evened the evening there appeared one afar off and Al-Nu’uman fell to looking upon him and on Sharik who said to him, “Thou hast no right over me till yonder person come, for haply he is my man.” As he spake, up came the Táí in haste and Al-Nu’uman said, “By Allah, never saw I any more generous than you two! I know not which of you be the nobler, whether this one who became warrant for thee in death-risk or thou who returnest to thy slaughter.” Then quoth he to Sharik, “What drave thee to become warrant for him, knowing the while it was death?” and quoth he, “I did this lest it be said, Generosity hath departed from Wazirs.” Then Al-Nu’uman asked the Táí, “And thou, what prompted thee to return, knowing that therein was death and thine one destruction?” and the Arab answered, “I did this lest it be said, Fidelity hath departed from the folk; for such thing would be a shame to mine issue and to my tribe.” And Al-Nu’uman cried, “By Allah, I will be the third of you, lest it be said, Mercy hath departed from the kings.” So he pardoned him and bade abolish the day of ill-luck; whereupon the Arab began to say,
“A many urged me that I false my faith,
But I refused whatso the wights could plead;
For I’m a man in whom Faith dwells for aye,
And every true man’s word is pledge of deed.”
Quoth Al-Nu’uman, “What prompted thee to keep faith, the case being as thou sayest?” Quoth he, “O king, it was my religion.” Al-Nu’uman asked, “What is thy religion?” and he answered “The Nazarene!” The king said, “Expound it to me.” So the Táí expounded it to him and Al-Nu’uman became a Christian.292
287 Bresl. Edit., vol. viii. pp. 226-9, Nights dclx-i.
288 King of the Arab kingdom of Hirah, for whom see vol. v. 74. This ancient villain rarely appears in such favourable form when tales are told of him.
289 The tribe of the chieftain and poet, Hátim Táí, for whom see vol. iv. 94.
290 i.e. I will make a covenant with him before the Lord. Here the word “Allah” is introduced among the Arabs of The Ignorance.
291 i.e. the man of the Tribe of Tay.
292 A similar story of generous dealing is told of the Caliph Omar in The Nights. See vol. v. 99 et seq.
They relate that a certain king sat one day on the terrace-roof of his palace, solacing himself with the view, and presently, his wandering glances espied, on a house-top over against his palace, a woman seer never saw her like. So he turned to those present and asked them, “To whom belongeth yonder house?” when they answered, “To thy servant Fírúz, and that is his spouse.” So he went down (and indeed passion had made him drunken as with wine, and he was deeply in love of her), and calling Firuz, said to him, “Take this letter and go with it to such a city and bring me the reply.” Firuz took the letter and going to his house, laid it under his head and passed that night; and when the morning morrowed, he farewelled his wife and fared for that city, unknowing what his sovran purposed against him. As for the king, he arose in haste after the husband had set out and repairing to the house of Firuz in disguise, knocked at the entrance. Quoth Firuz’s wife, “Who’s at the door?” and quoth he, saying, “I am the king, thy husband’s master.” So she opened and he entered and sat down, saying, “We are come to visit thee.” She cried, “I seek refuge294 from this visitation, for indeed I deem not well of it;” but the king said, “O desire of hearts, I am thy husband’s master and methinks thou knowest me not.” She replied, “Nay, I know thee, O my lord and master, and I wot thy purpose and whatso thou wantest and that thou art my husband’s lord. I understand what thou wishest, and indeed the poet hath forestalled thee in his saying of the verses referring to thy case,
‘Now will I leave your water way untrod;
For many treading that same way I see:
When fall the clustering flies upon the food,
I raise my hand whate’er my hunger be:
And lions eke avoid the water way
When dogs to lap at fountain side are free.’ ”
Then said she, “O king, comest thou to a watering place whereat thy dog hath drunk and wilt thou drink thereof?” The king was abashed at her and at her words and fared forth from her but forgot his sandal in the house. Such was his case; but as regards Firuz, when he went forth from his house, he sought the letter, but found it not in pouch; so he returned home. Now his return fell in with the king’s going forth and he came upon the sandal in his house, whereat his wit was wildered and he knew that the king had not sent him away save for a device of his own. However, he kept silence and spake not a word, but, taking the letter, went on his mission and accomplished it and returned to the king, who gave him an hundred dinars. So Firuz betook himself to the bazar and bought what beseemeth women of goodly gifts and returning to his wife, saluted her and gave her all he had purchased, and said to her, “Arise and hie thee to thy father’s home.” Asked she, “Wherefore?” and he answered, “Verily, the king hath been bountiful to me and I would have thee make this public, so thy father may joy in that which he seeth upon thee.” She rejoined “With love and gladness,” and arising forthwith, betook herself to the house of her father, who rejoiced in her coming and in that which he saw upon her; and she abode with him a month’s space, and her husband made no mention of her. Then came her brother to him and said, “O Firuz, an thou wilt not acquaint me with the reason of thine anger against thy wife, come and plead with us before the king.” Quoth he, “If ye will have me plead with you, I will e’en plead.” So they went to the king and found the Kazi sitting with him; whereupon the damsel’s brother began, “Allah assist our lord the Kazi! I let this man on hire a flower-garden, high-walled, with a well well-conditioned and trees fruit-laden; but he beat down its walls and ruined its well and ate its fruits, and now he desireth to return it to me.” The Kazi turned to Firuz and asked him, “What sayest thou, O youth?” when he answered, “Indeed, I delivered him the garden in better case than it was before.” So the Kazi said to the brother, “Hath he delivered to thee the garden, as he avoucheth?” And the pleader replied, “No; but I desire to question him of the reason of his returning it.” Quoth the Kazi, “What sayest thou, O youth?” And quoth Firuz, “I returned it willy nilly, because I entered it one day and saw the trail of the lion; so I feared lest an I entered it again, the lion should devour me. Wherefore that which I did, I did of reverence to him and for fear of him.” Now the king was leaning back upon the cushion, and when he heard the young man’s words, he comprehended the purport thereof; so he sat up and said, “Return to thy flower-garden in all ease of heart; for, by Allah, never saw I the like of thy garth nor stronger of guard than its walls over its trees!” So Firuz returned to his wife, and the Kazi knew not the truth of the affair, no, nor any of those who were in that assembly, save the king and the husband and the wife’s brother.
They relate that there was once, in days of yore and in bygone ages and times long gone before, a king of the kings of the time, Shah Bakht hight, who had troops and servants and guards in hosts and a Wazir called Al-Rahwán, who was learned, understanding, a loyal counsellor and a cheerful acceptor of the commandments of Almighty Allah, to whom belong Honour and Glory. The king committed to this Minister the affairs of his kingdom and his lieges and spake according to his word, and in this way he abode a long space of time. Now this Wazir had many foes, who envied his position and sought to do him harm, but thereunto found no way and the Lord, in His immemorial fore-knowledge and His fore-ordinance decreed that the king dreamt that the Minister Al-Rahwan gave him a fruit from off a tree and he ate it and died. So he awoke, startled and troubled, and when the Wazir had presented himself before him and had retired and the king was alone with those in whom he trusted, he related to them his vision and they advised him to send for the astrologers and interpreters and commended to him a Sage, whose skill and wisdom they attested. Accordingly the king bade him be brought and entreated him with honour and made him draw near to himself. Now there had been in private intercourse with that Sage a company of the Wazir’s enemies, who besought him to slander the Minister to the king and counsel him to do him dead, in view of what they promised him of much wealth; and he made agreement with them on this and acquainted the king that the Minister would slay him within the coming month and bade him hasten to put him to death, else would he surely be killed. Presently, the Wazir entered and the king signed to him to clear the place. So he signed to those who were present to withdraw, and they withdrew; whereupon quoth the king to him, “How deemest thou, O Minister of loyal counsel in all manner of contrivance, concerning a vision I have seen in my sleep?” “What is it, O king?” asked the Wazir, and Shah Bakht related to him his dream, adding, “And indeed the Sage interpreted it to me and said to me, ‘An thou do not the Wazir dead within a month, assuredly he will slay thee.’ Now to put the like of thee to death, I am loath exceedingly, yet to leave thee on life do I sorely fear. How then dost thou advise me act in this affair?” The Wazir bowed his head earthwards awhile, then raised it and said, “Allah prosper the king! Verily, it availeth not to continue him on life of whom the king is afraid, and my counsel is that thou hasten to put me out of the world.” When the king heard his speech and dove into the depths of his meaning, he turned to him and said, “’Tis grievous to me, O Wazir of good rede;” and he told him that the other sages had attested the wit and wisdom of the astrophil. Now hearing these words Al-Rahwan sighed and knew that the king went in fear of him; but he showed him fortitude and said to him, “Allah assain the sovran! My rede is that the king carry out his commandment and his decree be dight, for that needs must death be and ’tis fainer to me that I die oppressed, than that I die an oppressor. But, an the king judge proper to postpone the putting of me to death till the morrow and will pass this night with me and farewell me whenas the morning cometh, the king shall do whatso he willeth.” Then he wept tell he wetted his gray hairs and the king was moved to ruth for him and granted him that which he craved and vouchsafed him a respite for that night.296
When it was eventide, the king caused clear his sitting chamber and summoned the Wazir, who presented himself and making his obeisance to the king, kissed ground before him and related to him
There was once a man of Khorasan and he had a son, whose moral weal he ardently wished; but the young man sought to be alone and far from the eye of his father, so he might give himself up to pleasuring and pleasance. Accordingly he sought of his sire leave to make the pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah and to visit the tomb of the Prophet (whom Allah save and assain!). Now between them and Meccah was a journey of five hundred parasangs; but his father could not contrary him, for that the Holy Law had made pilgrimage297 incumbent on him and because of that which he hoped for him of improvement. So he joined unto him a tutor, in whom he trusted, and gave him much money and took leave of him. The son set out with his governor on the holy pilgrimage,298 and abode on the like wise, spending freely and using not thrift. Also there was in his neighbourhood a poor man, who had a slave-girl of passing beauty and grace, and the youth conceived a desire for her and suffered sore cark and care for the love of her and her loveliness, so that he was like to perish for passion; and she also loved him with a love yet greater than his love for her. Accordingly, the damsel summoned an old woman who used to visit her and acquainted her with her case, saying, “An I foregather not with him, I shall die.” The crone promised her that she would do her best to bring her to her desire; so she veiled herself and repairing to the young man, saluted him with the salam and acquainted him with the girl’s case, saying, “Her master is a greedy wight; so do thou invite him and lure him with lucre, and he will sell thee the hand-maiden.” Accordingly, he made a banquet, and standing in the man’s way, invited him299 and brought him to his house, where they sat down and ate and drank and abode in talk. Presently, the young man said to the other, “I hear thou hast with thee a slave-girl, whom thou desirest to sell;” but he said, “By Allah, O my lord, I have no mind to sell her!” Quoth the youth, “I have heard that she cost thee a thousand dinars, and I will give thee six hundred over and above that sum;” and quoth the other, “I sell her to thee at that price.” So they fetched notaries who wrote out the contract of sale, and the young man weighed to the girl’s master half the purchase money, saying, “Let her be with thee till I complete to thee the rest of the price and take my hand-maid.” The owner consented to this and took of him a written bond for the rest of the money, and the girl abode with her master, on deposit.300 As for the youth, he gave his governor a thousand dirhams and sent him to his sire, to fetch money from him, so he might pay the rest of the hand-maid’s price, saying to him, “Be not long away.” But the tutor said in his mind, “How shall I fare to his father and say to him, ‘Thy son hath wasted thy money and made love with it?’301 With what eye shall I look on him and, indeed, I am he in whom he confided and to whom he hath entrusted his son? Verily, this were ill rede. Nay, I will fare on with this pilgrimage-caravan302 in despite of my fool of a youth; and when he is weary of waiting, he will demand back his money and return to his father, and I shall be quit of travail and trouble.” So he went on with the pilgrimage caravan303 and took up his abode there.304 Meanwhile, the youth tarried expecting his tutor’s return, but he returned not; wherefore concern and chagrin grew upon him because of his mistress, and his yearning for her redoubled and he was like to kill himself. She became aware of this and sent him a messenger, bidding him visit her. Accordingly he went to her, and she questioned him of the case; when he told her what was to do of the matter of his tutor, and she said to him, “With me is longing the like of that which is with thee, and I doubt me thy messenger hath perished or thy father hath slain him; but I will give thee all my jewellery and my dresses, and do thou sell them and weigh out the rest of my price, and we will go, I and thou, to thy sire.” So she handed to him all she had and he sold it and paid the rest of her price; after which there remained to him for spending-money an hundred dirhams. These he spent and lay that night with the damsel in all delight of life, and his sprite was like to fly for joy: but when he arose in the morning, he sat weeping and the damsel said to him, “What causeth thee to weep?” Said he, “I know not an my father be dead, and he hath none other heir save myself; but how shall I get to him, seeing I own not a dirham?” Quoth she, “I have a bangle; sell it and buy seed-pearls with the price: then round them and fashion them into great unions305 and thereby thou shalt gain much money, with the which we may find our way to thy country.” So he took the bangle and repairing to a goldsmith, said to him, “Break up this bracelet and sell it;” but he said, “The king seeketh a perfect bracelet: I will go to him and bring thee its price.” Presently he bore the bangle to the Sultan and it pleased him greatly by reason of its goodly workmanship. Then he called an old woman, who was in his palace, and said to her, “Needs must I have the mistress of this bracelet though but for a single night, or I shall die;” and the old woman replied, “I will bring her to thee.” Thereupon she donned a devotee’s dress and betaking herself to the goldsmith, said to him, “To whom belongeth the bangle which is now with the king?” and said he, “It belongeth to a stranger, who hath bought him a slave-girl from this city and lodgeth with her in such a place.” Upon this the old woman repaired to the young man’s house and knocked at the door. The damsel opened to her and seeing her clad in devotee’s garb,306 saluted her with the salam and asked her saying, “Haply thou hast some need of us?” Answered the old woman, “Yes, I desire a private place, where I can perform the Wuzu-ablution;” and quoth the girl, “Enter.” So she entered and did her requirement and made the ablution and prayed:307 then she brought out a rosary and began to tell her beads thereon, and the damsel said to her, “Whence comest thou, O pilgrimess?”308 Said she, “From visiting the Idol of the Absent in such a church.309 There standeth up no woman before him,310 who hath a distant friend and discloseth to him her desire, but he acquainteth her with her case and giveth her news of her absent one.” Said the damsel, “O pilgrimess, we have an absent one, and my lord’s heart cleaveth to him and I desire to go question the Idol of him.” Quoth the crone, “Do thou wait till to-morrow and ask leave of thy spouse, and I will come to thee and fare with thee in weal and welfare.” Then she went away, and when the girl’s master came, she sought his permission to go with the old trot, and he gave her leave. So the beldame came and took her and carried her to the king’s door, she, unknowing whither she went. The damsel entered with her and beheld a goodly house and decorated apartments which were no idol’s chamber. Then came the king and seeing her beauty and loveliness, went up to her to buss her; whereupon she fell down in a fainting fit and struck out with her hands and feet.311 When he saw this, he held aloof from her in ruth and left her; but the matter was grievous to her and she refused meat and drink, and as often as the king drew near to her, she fled from him in fear, so he swore by Allah that he would not approach her save with her consent and fell to presenting her with ornaments and raiment; but her aversion to him only increased. Meanwhile, the youth her master abode expecting her; but she returned not and his heart already tasted the bitter draught of separation; so he went forth at hap-hazard, distracted and knowing not what he should do, and began strewing dust upon his head and crying out, “The old woman hath taken her and gone away!” The little boys followed him with stones and pelted him, crying, “A madman! A madman!” Presently, the king’s Chamberlain, who was a personage of years and worth, met him, and when he saw this youth, he forbade the boys and drave them away from him, after which he accosted him and asked him of his affair. So he told him his tale and the Chamberlain said to him, “Fear not! I will deliver thy slavegirl for thee; so calm thy concern.” And he went on to speak him fair and comfort him, till he had firm reliance on his word. Then he carried him to his home and stripping him of his clothes, clad him in rags; after which he called an old woman, who was his housekeeper,312 and said to her, “Take this youth and bind on his neck yon iron chain and go round about with him in all the great thoroughfares of the city, and when thou hast done this, go up with him to the palace of the king.” And he said to the youth, “In whatsoever stead thou seest the damsel, speak not a syllable, but acquaint me with her place and thou shalt owe her deliverance to none save to me.” The youth thanked him and went with the old woman in such fashion as the Chamberlain bade him. She fared on with him till they entered the city, and walked all about it; after which she went up to the palace of the king and fell to saying, “O fortune’s favourites, look on a youth whom the devils take twice in the day and pray to be preserved from such affliction!” And she ceased not to go round with him till she came to the eastern wing313 of the palace, whereupon the slave-girls hurried out to look upon him and when they saw him they were amazed at his beauty and loveliness and wept for him. Then they informed the damsel, who came forth and considered him and knew him not; but he knew her; so he drooped his head and shed tears. She was moved to pity for him and gave him somewhat and went back to her place, whilst the youth returned with the housekeeper to the Chamberlain and told him that she was in the king’s mansion, whereat he was chagrined and said, “By Allah, I will assuredly devise a device for her and deliver her!” Whereupon the youth kissed his hands and feet. Then he turned to the old woman and bade her change her habit and her semblance. Now this ancient dame was sweet of speech and winsome of wit; so he gave her costly and delicious ottars and said to her, “Get thee to the king’s slave-girls and sell them these essences and win thy way to the damsel and ask her if she desire her master or not.” So the old woman went out and making her way to the palace, went in to the hand-maid and drew near her and recited these couplets,
“Allah preserve our Union-days and their delights.
Ah me! How sweet was life! how joys were ever new!
May he not be who cursed us twain with parting day;
How many a bone he brake, how many a life he slew!
He shed my faultless tear-floods and my sinless blood;
And beggaring me of love himself no richer grew.”
When the damsel heard the old woman’s verses, she wept till her clothes were drenched and drew near the speaker, who asked her, “Knowest thou such-an-one?” And she wept and answered, “He is my lord. Whence knowest thou him?” Rejoined the old woman, “O my lady, sawest thou not the madman who came hither yesterday with the old woman? He was thy lord,” presently adding, “But this is no time for talk. When ’tis night, get thee to the top of the palace and wait on the terrace till thy lord come to thee and compass thy deliverance.” Then she gave her what she would of perfumes and returning to the Chamberlain, acquainted him with whatso had passed, and he told the youth. Now as soon as it was evening, the Chamberlain bade bring two hackneys and great store of water and provaunt and a riding-camel and a fellow to show them the way. These he ambushed without the town whilst he and the young man, taking with them a long rope, made fast to a staple, went and stood below the palace. Whenas they came thither, they looked and behold, the damsel was standing on the terrace-roof, so they threw her the rope and the staple, which she made fast, and tucking up her sleeves above her wrists, slid down and landed with them. They carried her without the town, where they mounted, she and her lord, and fared on, with the guide in front,314 directing them on the way, and they ceased not faring night and day till they entered his father’s house. The young man greeted his sire, who was gladdened in him, and to whom he related all that had befallen him, whereupon he rejoiced in his safety. As for the tutor, he wasted whatso was with him and returned to the city, where he saw the youth and excused himself. Then he questioned him of what had betided him and he told him, whereat he admired and returned to companionship with him; but the youth ceased to have regard for him and gave him nor solde nor ration as was his wont, neither discovered to him aught of his secrets. When the tutor saw that there was no profit from him he returned to the king, the ravisher of the slave-girl, and recounted to him what the Chamberlain had done and counselled him to slay that official and egged him on to recover the damsel, promising to give his friend a poison-draught and return. Accordingly the king sent for the Chamberlain and chid him for the deed he had done; whereat the king’s servants incontinently fell upon the Chamberlain and put him to death. Meanwhile the tutor returned to the youth, who asked him of his absence, and he told him that he had been in the city of the king who had taken the slave-girl. When the youth heard this, he misdoubted of his governor and never again trusted him in anything but was always on his guard against him. Then the tutor without stay or delay caused prepare great store of sweetmeats and put in them deadly poison and presented them to the youth, who, when he saw those sweetmeats, said to himself, “This is an extraordinary thing of the tutor! Needs must there be in this sweetmeat some mischief, and I will make proof of his confectionery upon himself.” Accordingly he got ready food and set amongst it a portion of the sweetmeat, and inviting the governor to his house placed the provaunt before him. He ate, and amongst the rest which they brought him, the poisoned sweetmeat; so while in the act of eating he died; whereby the youth knew that this was a plot against himself and said, Whoso seeketh his fortune by his own force315 attaineth a failure.” “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this, O king of the age, stranger than the story of the Druggist and his Wife and the Singer.” When King Shah Bakht heard the tale of Al-Rahwan he gave him leave to withdraw to his own house and he tarried there the rest of the night and the next day till eventide evened.
295 Bresl. Edit., vol. xi. pp. 84–318, Nights dccclxxv-dccccxxx. Here again the names are Persian, showing the provenance of the tale; Shah Bakht is=King Luck and Rahwán is a corruption of Rahbán=one who keeps the (right) way; or it may be Ruhbán=the Pious. Mr. W. A. Clouston draws my attention to the fact that this tale is of the Sindibad (Seven Wise Masters) cycle and that he finds remotely allied to it a Siamese collection, entitled Nonthuk Pakaranam in which Princess Kankras, to save the life of her father, relates eighty or ninety tales to the king of Pataliput (Palibothra). He purposes to discuss this and similar subjects in extenso in his coming volumes, “Popular Tales and Fictions: their Migrations and Transformations,” to which I look forward with pleasant anticipations.
296 So far this work resembles the Bakhtiyár-námeh, in which the ten Wazirs are eager for the death of the hero who relates tales and instances to the king, warning him against the evils of precipitation.
297 One pilgrimage (Hajjat al-Islam) is commanded to all Moslems. For its conditions see The Nights, vol. v. 202, et seq.
298 Arab. “Hajj al-Shárif.” For the expenses of the process see my Pilgrimage iii. 12. As in all “Holy Places,” from Rome to Benares, the sinner in search of salvation is hopelessly taken in and fleeced by the “sons of the sacred cities.”
299 Here a stranger invites a guest who at once accepts the invitation; such is the freedom between Moslems at Meccah and Al-Medinah, especially during pilgrimagetime.
300 i.e. the master could no longer use her carnally.
301 i.e. wantoned it away.
302 Here “Al-Hajj”=the company of pilgrims, a common use of the term.
303 The text says, “He went on with the caravan to the Pilgrimage,” probably a clerical error. “Hajj” is never applied to the Visitation (Ziyárah) at Al-Medinah.
304 Arab. “Jáwar,” that is, he became a mujáwir, one who lives in or near a collegiate mosque. The Egyptian proverb says, “He pilgrimaged: quoth one, Yes, and for his villainy lives (yujawir) at Meccah,” meaning that he found no other place bad enough for him.
305 I have often heard of this mysterious art in the East, also of similarly making rubies and branch-coral of the largest size, but, despite all my endeavours, I never was allowed to witness the operation. It was the same with alchemy, which, however, I found very useful to the “smasher.” See my History of Sindh, chapt. vii.
306 Elsewhere in The Nights specified as white woolen robes.
307 Whilst she was praying the girl could not address her; but the use of the rosary is a kind of “parergon.”
308 Arab. “Yá Hájjah” (in Egypt pronounced “Hággeh”), a polite address to an elderly woman, who is thus supposed to have “finished her faith.”
309 Arab. “Kanísah” (from Kans=sweeping) a pagan temple, a Jewish synagogue, and especially a Christian church.
310 i.e. standeth in prayer or supplication.
311 i.e. fell into hysterics, a very common complaint amongst the highly nervous and excitable races of the East.
312 Arab. “Kahramánah,” a word which has often occurred in divers senses, nurse, duenna, chamberwoman, stewardess, armed woman defending the Harem, etc.
313 Which is supposed to contain the Harem.
314 Especially mentioned because the guide very often follows his charges, especially when he intends to play them an ugly trick. I had an unpleasant adventure of the kind in Somaliland; but having the fear of the “Aborigines Protection Society” before my eyes, refrained from doing more than hinting at it.
315 i.e. otherwise than according to ordinance of Allah.
When the even evened, the king sat private in his sitting-chamber and his mind was occupied with the story of the Singer and the Druggist. So he called the Wazir and bade him tell the tale. Answered he, “I will well. They recount, O my lord, the following
There was once in the city of Hamadán316 a young man of seemly semblance and skilled in singing to the lute; wherefore he was well seen of the citizens. He went forth one day of his home with intent to travel, and gave not over journeying till his travel brought him to a town and a goodly. Now he had with him a lute and its appurtenance,317 so he entered and went round about the streets till he happened upon a druggist who, when he espied him, called to him. So he went up to him and bade him sit down; accordingly, the youth sat down by his side, and the druggist questioned him of his case. The singer told him what was in his mind, and the pharmacist took him up into his shop and bought him food and fed him. Then said he to him, “Rise and take up thy lute and beg about the streets, and whenas thou smellest the reek of wine, break in upon the drinkers and say to them, I am a singer. They will laugh and cry, Come in to us. And when thou singest, the folk will know thee and speak one to other of thee; so shalt thou become known about town, and thou shalt better thy business.” He went round about, as the druggist bade him, till the sun waxed hot, but found none drinking. Then he entered a lane, that he might take rest, and seeing there a handsome house and a lofty, stood in its shade and fell to observing the excellence of its edification. Now while he was thus engaged, behold, a casement opened and there appeared thereat a face, as it were the moon. Quoth the owner of the face, “What aileth thee to stand there? Dost thou want aught?” And quoth he, “I am a stranger,” and acquainted her with his adventure; whereupon asked she, “What sayst thou to meat and drink and the enjoyment of a fair face and getting thee spending-money?” And he answered, “O mistress mine, this is my desire whereof I am going about in quest!” So she opened the door to him and brought him in: then she seated him at the upper end of the room and served him with food. He ate and drank and lay with her and futtered her. This ended, she sat down in his lap and they toyed and laughed and exchanged kisses till the day was half done, when her husband came home and she had no recourse but to hide the singer in a mat,318 in which she rolled him up. The husband entered and seeing the battle-place319 disordered and smelling the reek of liquor questioned her of this. Quoth she, “I had with me a bosom friend of mine and I conjured her to crack a cup with me; and so we drank a jar full, I and she, and but now, before thy coming in, she fared forth.” Her husband deemed her words true and went away to his shop, he being none other than the singer’s friend the druggist, who had invited him and fed him; whereupon the lover came forth and he and the lady returned to their pleasant pastime and abode on this wise till evening, when she gave him money and said to him, “To-morrow in the forenoon come hither to me.” He replied, “Yes,” and departed; and at nightfall he went to the Hammam-bath. On the morrow, he betook himself to the shop of his friend the druggist, who welcomed him as soon as he saw him, and questioned him of his case and how he had fared that day. Quoth the singer, “Allah requite thee with welfare, O my brother, for indeed thou hast directed me to a restful life!” Then he acquainted him with his adventure and told him the tale of the woman, till he came to the mention of her husband, when he said, “And at midday came the horned cuckold,320 her husband, and knocked at the door. So she wrapped me in the mat, and when he had wended his ways I came forth and we returned to our pleasant play.” This was grievous to the druggist, and he repented of having taught him how he should do and suspected his wife. Accordingly he asked the singer, “And what said she to thee at thy going away?” and the other answered, “She said, Come back to me on the morrow. So, behold, I am off to her and I came not hither but that I might acquaint thee with this, lest thy thoughts be pre-occupied with me.” Then he farewelled him, and walked out. As soon as the druggist was assured that he had reached the house, he cast the net321 over his shop and made for his home, in some suspicion of his wife, and knocked at the door. Now the singer had entered and the druggist’s wife said to him, “Up with thee and enter this chest.” Accordingly he entered it and she shut it down on him and opened to her husband, who came in all distraught, and searched the house but found none and overlooked the chest. Hereat he said in his mind “The house322 is one which favoureth my house and the woman is one who favoureth my wife,” and returned to his shop; whereupon the singer came forth of the chest and falling upon the druggist’s wife, had his wicked will of her and spent upon her what was her due, and weighed down the scale for her with full measure. Then they ate and drank and kissed and clipped necks, and in this way they abode till the evening, when she gave him money, because she found his weaving nice and good,323 and made him promise to come to her on the morrow. So he left her and slept his night and on the morrow he returned to the shop of his friend the druggist and saluted him. The other welcomed him and questioned him of his case; whereat he told his tale till he ended with the mention of the woman’s husband, when he said, “Then came the horned cuckold, her mate and she stowed me away in the chest and shut down the lid upon me, whilst her addlepated pander324 of a husband went about the house, top and bottom; and when he had gone his way, we returned to our pleasant pastime.” With this, the druggist was assured that the house was his house and the wife his wife, and quoth he, “Now what wilt thou do to-day?” Quoth the singer, “I shall return to her and weave for her and full her yarn325, and I came not326 save to thank thee for thy dealing with me.” Then he went away, whilst the fire was loosed in the heart of the druggist and he shut his shop and returning to his house, rapped at the door. Said the singer, “Let me jump into the chest, for he saw me not yesterday;” but said she, “No! wrap thyself up in the mat.” So he wrapped himself up and stood in a corner of the room, whilst the druggist entered and went no whither else save to the chest, but found naught inside. Then he walked round about the house and searched it, top and bottom, but came upon nothing and no one and abode between belief and disbelief, and said to himself, “Haply, I suspect my wife of what is not in her.” So he was certified of her innocence and going forth content, returned to his shop, whereupon out came the singer and they resumed their former little game, as was their wont, till eventide when she gave him one of her husband’s shirts and he took it and going away, nighted in his own lodging. Next morning he repaired to the druggist, who saluted him with the salam and came to meet him and rejoiced in him and smiled in his face, deeming his wife innocent. Then he questioned him of his case on yesterday and he told him how he had fared, saying, “O my brother, when the cornute knocked at the door, I would have jumped into the chest; but his wife forbade me and rolled me up in the mat. The man entered and thought of nothing save the chest; so he brake it open and woned like one jinn-mad, going up and coming down. Then he went about his business and I came out and we abode on our accustomed case till eventide, when she gave me this shirt of her husband’s; and behold, I am now off to her.” When the druggist heard the singer’s words, he was assured of the adventure and knew that the calamity, all of it, was in his own house and that the wife was his wife; and he considered the shirt, whereupon he redoubled in assuredness and said to the singer, “Art thou now going to her?” Said he, “Yes, O my brother,” and taking leave of him, went away; whereupon the druggist started up, as he were stark mad, and dismantled his shop.327 Whilst he was thus doing, the singer won to the house, and presently up came the druggist and knocked at the door. The lover would have wrapped himself up in the mat, but she forbade him and said, “Get thee down to the ground floor of the house and enter the oven-jar328 and close the cover upon thyself.” So he did her bidding and she went down to her husband and opened the door to him, whereupon he came in and went round the house, but found no one and overlooked the oven-jar. Then he stood musing and sware that he would not again go forth of the house till the morrow. As for the singer, when his stay in the oven-jar grew longsome upon him, he came forth therefrom, thinking that her husband had gone away; and he went up to the terrace-roof and looking down, beheld his friend the druggist: whereat he was sore concerned and said in himself, “Alas, the disgrace, ah! This is my friend the druggist, who of me was fain and dealt me fair and I have paid him with foul.” He feared to return to the druggist; so he stepped down and opened the first door and would have gone out at a venture, unseen of the husband; but, when he came to the outer door, he found it locked and saw not the key. Hereat he returned to the terrace and began dropping from roof to roof till the people of the house heard him and hastened to fall upon him, deeming him a thief. Now that house belonged to a Persian man; so they laid hands on him and the house-master fell to beating him, saying to him, “Thou art a thief.” He replied, “No I am not a thief, but a singing-man, a stranger who, hearing your voices, came to sing to you.” When the folk heard his words, they talked of letting him go; but the Persian said, “O folk, let not his speech cozen you. This one is none other than a thief who knoweth how to sing, and when he cometh upon the like of us, he is a singer.” Said they, “O our lord, this man is a stranger, and needs we must release him.” Quoth he, “By Allah, my heart heaveth at this fellow! Let me kill him with beating;” but quoth they, “Thou mayst no ways do that.” So they delivered the singer from the Persian, the master of the house, and seated him amongst them, whereupon he began singing to them and they rejoiced in him. Now the Persian had a Mameluke,329 as he were the full moon, and he arose and went out, and the singer followed him and wept before him, professing lustful love to him and kissing his hands and feet. The Mameluke took compassion on him and said to him, “When the night cometh and my master entereth the Harim and the folk fare away, I will grant thee thy desire; and I sleep in such a place.” Then the singer returned and sat with the cup-companions, and the Persian rose and went out with the Mameluke by his side. Now330 the singer knew the place which the Mameluke occupied at the first of the night; but it chanced that the youth rose from his stead and the waxen taper went out. The Persian, who was drunk, fell over on his face, and the singer supposing him to be the Mameluke, said, “By Allah, ’tis good!” and threw himself upon him and began to work at his bag-trousers till the string was loosed; then he brought out331 his prickle upon which he spat and slipped it into him. Thereupon the Persian started up, crying out and, laying hands on the singer, pinioned him and beat him a grievous beating, after which he bound him to a tree that stood in the house-court. Now there was in the house a beautiful singing-girl and when she saw the singer tight pinioned and tied to the tree, she waited till the Persian lay down on his couch, when she arose and going up to the singer, fell to condoling with him over what had betided him and making eyes at him and handling his yard and rubbing it, till it rose upright. Then said she to him, “Do with me the deed of kind and I will loose thy pinion-bonds, lest he return and beat thee again; for he purposeth thee an ill purpose.” Quoth he, “Loose me and I will do it;” but quoth she, “I fear that, an I loose thee, thou wilt not do it. But I will do it and thou have me standing; and when I have done, I will loose thee.” So saying, she opened her clothes and introducing the singer’s prickle, fell to toing and froing.332 Now there was in the house a fighting-ram, which the Persian had trained to butting,333 and when he saw what the woman was doing, he thought she wished to do battle with him; so he broke his halter and running at her, butted her and split her skull. She fell on her back and shrieked; whereupon the Persian started up hastily from sleep and seeing the singing-girl on her back and the singer with yard on end, cried to him, “O accursed, doth not what thou hast erewhile done suffice thee?” Then he beat him a shrewd beating and opening the door, thrust him out in the middle of the night. He lay the rest of the dark hours in one of the ruins, and when he arose in the morning, he said, “None is in fault! I, for one, sought my own good, and he is no fool who seeketh good for himself; and the druggist’s wife also sought good for herself; but Predestination overcometh Precaution and for me there remaineth no tarrying in this town.” So he went forth from the place. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this story, strange though it be, stranger than that of the King and his Son and that which betided them of wonders and rare marvels.” When the king heard this story, he deemed it pretty and pleasant and said, “This tale is near unto that which I know and ’tis my rede I should do well to have patience and hasten not to slay my Minister, so I may get of him the profitable story of the King and his Son.” Then he gave the Wazir leave to go away to his own house; so he thanked him and tarried in his home all that day.
316 A well-known city of lrák ’Ajamí (or Persian).
317 i.e. spare pegs and strings, plectra, thumb-guards, etc.
318 Arab. “Hasír,” the fine matting used for sleeping on during the hot season in Egypt and Syria.
319 i.e. The bed where the “rough and tumble” had taken place.
320 This word, which undoubtedly derives from cuculus, cogul, cocu, a cuckoo, has taken a queer twist, nor can I explain how its present meaning arose from a shebird which lays her egg in a strange nest. Wittol, on the other hand, from Witan, to know, is rightly applied to one whom La Fontaine calls “cocu et content,” the Arab Dayyús.
321 Arab. “Shabakah,” here a net like a fisherman’s, which is hung over the hole in the wall called a shop, during the temporary absence of the shopkeeper. See my Pilgrimage, i. 100.
322 i.e. of which the singer speaks.
323 i.e., she found him good at the to-and-fro movement; our corresponding phrase is “basket-making.”
324 Arab. “Mu’arris”: in vol. i. 338, 1 derived the word from ’Ars marriage, like the Germ. Kupplerin. This was a mere mistake; the root is ’Ars (with a Sád not a Sín) and means a pimp who shows off or displays his wares.
325 Arab. “Akhmitu Ghazla-há” lit.=thicken her yarn or thread.
326 I must again warn the reader that the negative, which to us appears unnecessary, is emphatic in Arabic.
327 i.e. By removing the goods from the “but” to the “ben.” Pilgrimage i. 99.
328 Arab. “Tannúr,” here the large earthern jar with a cover of the same material, round which the fire is built.
329 Being a musician the hero of the tale was also a pederast.
330 Here Mr. Payne supplies “Then they returned and sat down” (apparently changing places). He is quite correct in characterising the Bresl. Edit. as corrupt and “fearfully incoherent.” All we can make certain of in this passage is that the singer mistook the Persian for his white slave (Mameluke).
331 Arab. “Bazaka,” normally used in the sense of spitting; here the saliva might be applied for facilitating insertion.
332 In Persian “Áward o burd,"=brought and bore away, gen. applied to the movement of the man as in the couplet,
Chenín burd o áward o áward o burd,
Kih dáyeh pas-i-pardeh zi ghussah murd.
He so came and went, went and came again,
That Nurse who lay curtained to faint was fain.
333 Alluding to the fighting rams which are described by every Anglo-Indian traveller. They strike with great force, amply sufficient to crush the clumsy hand which happens to be caught between the two foreheads. The animals are sometimes used for Fál or consulting futurity: the name of a friend is given to one and that of a foe to the other; and the result of the fight suggests victory or defeat for the men.
When it was supper-time the king sought the sitting-chamber; and, summoning the Wazir, sought of him the story he had promised him; and the Minister said, “They tell, O king,
There came to a king of the kings, in his old age, a son, who grew up comely, quickwitted, clever: and, when he reached years of discretion and became a young man, his father said to him, “Take this realm and rule it in lieu of me, for I desire to flee from the sin of sovranty335 to Allah the Most High and don the woollen dress and devote all my time to devotion.” Quoth the Prince, “And I am another who desireth to take refuge with the Almighty.” So the king said, “Arise, let us flee forth and make for the mountains and there worship in shame before God the Most Great.” Accordingly, the twain gat them gear of wool and clothing themselves therewith, fared forth and wandered in the wolds and wastes; but, when some days had passed over them, both became weak for hunger and repented them of that they had done whenas penitence profited them not, and the Prince complained to his father of weariness and hunger. Cried the king, “Dear my son, I did with thee that which behoved me,336 but thou wouldst not hearken to me, and now there is no means of returning to thy former estate, for that another hath taken the kingdom and defendeth it from all foes: but indeed I will counsel thee of somewhat, wherein do thou pleasure me by compliance.” The Prince asked, “What is it?” and his father answered, “Take me and go with me to the market-street and sell me and receive my price and do with it whatso thou willest, and I shall become the property of one who shall provide for my wants.” The Prince enquired, “Who will buy thee of me, seeing thou art a very old man? Nay, do thou rather sell me, inasmuch as the demand for me will be more.” But the king replied, “An thou wert king, thou wouldest require service of me.” Accordingly the youth obeyed his father’s bidding and taking him, carried him to the slave-dealer and said, “Sell me this old man.” Said the dealer, “Who will buy this wight, and he a son of eighty years?”337 Then quoth he to the king, “In what crafts art thou cunning?” and quoth he, “I ken the quintessence of jewels and I ken the quintessence of horses and I ken the quintessence of men; brief, I ken the quintessence of all things.” So the slave-dealer took him and went about, offering him for sale to the folk; but none would buy. Presently, up came the Chef of the Sultan’s kitchen and asked, “What is this man?” and the dealer answered, “This be a Mameluke for sale.” The kitchener marvelled at this and bought the king, after questioning him of what he could do, for ten thousand dirhams. Then he weighed out the money and carried him to his house, but dared not employ him in aught of service; so he appointed him an allowance, a modicum sufficient for his maintenance, and repented him of having bought him, saying, “What shall I do with the like of this wight?” Presently, the king of the city was minded to go forth to his garden,338 a-pleasuring, and bade the cook precede him and appoint in his stead one who should dress the royal meat, so that, when he returned, he might find the meal ready. The Chef fell to thinking of whom he should appoint and was perplexed concerning his affair. As he was thus, the Shaykh came to him, and seeing him distraught as to how he should do, said to him, “Tell me what is in thy mind; haply I may bring thee relief.” So he acquainted him with the king’s wishes and he said, “Have no care for this, but leave me one of the serving-men and do thou go companying thy lord in peace and surety, for I will suffice thee of this.” Hereat the cook departed with the king, after he had brought the old man what he needed and left him a man of the guards; and when he was gone, the Shaykh bade the trooper wash the kitchen-battery and made ready food exceedingly fine. When the king returned he set the meat before him, and he tasted dishes whose like he had never savoured; whereat he was startled and asked who had dressed it. Accordingly they acquainted him with the Shaykh’s case and he summoned him to his presence and asking him anent the mystery, increased his allowance of rations;339 moreover, he bade that they should cook together, he and the kitchener, and the old man obeyed his bidding. Some time after this, there came two merchants to the king with two pearls of price and each of them declared that his pearl was worth a thousand dinars, but the folk were incompetent to value them. Then said the cook, “Allah prosper the king! Verily, the Shaykh whom I bought affirmed that he knew the quintessence of jewels and that he was skilled in cookery. We have tried him in his cuisine, and have found him the most knowing of men; and now, if we send after him and prove him on jewels, his second claim will be made manifest to us, whether true or false.” So the king bade fetch the Shaykh and he came and stood before the Sultan, who showed him the two pearls. Quoth he, “Now for this one, ’tis worth a thousand dinars;” and quoth the king, “So saith its owner.” “But for this other,” continued the old man, “’tis worth only five hundred.” The people laughed and admired his saying, and the merchant who owned the second pearl asked him, “How can this, which is bigger of bulk and worthier for water and righter of rondure, be less of value than that?” and the old man answered, “I have said what is with me.”340 Then quoth the king to him, “Indeed, the outer semblance thereof is like that of the other pearl; why then is it worth but the half of its price?” and quoth the old man, “Yes, but its inward is corrupt.” Asked the merchant, “Hath a pearl then an inward and an outward?” and the Shaykh answered, “Yea! In its interior is a teredo, a boring worm; but the other pearl is sound and secure against breakage.” The merchant continued, “Give us approof of this thy knowledge and confirm to us the truth of thy saying;” and the old man rejoined, “We will break it: an I prove a liar, here is my head, and if I speak sooth, thou wilt have lost thy pearl;” and the merchant said, “I agree to that.” So they brake the pearl and it was even as the old man had declared, to wit, in the heart of it was a boring worm. The king marvelled at what he saw and questioned him of how he came by the knowledge of this. The Shaykh replied, “O king, this kind of jewel is engendered in the belly of a creature called the oyster341 and its origin is a drop of rain and it resisteth the touch and groweth not warm whilst hent in hand:342 so, when its outer coat became tepid to my touch, I knew that it harboured some living thing, for that things of life thrive not save in heat.” Therefore the king said to the cook, “Increase his allowance;” and the Chef appointed to him fresh rations. Now some time after this, two merchants presented themselves to the king with two horses, and one said, “I ask a thousand ducats for my horse,” and the other, “I seek five thousand ducats for mine.” Quoth the cook, “We are now familiar with the old man’s just judgment; what deemeth the king of fetching him?” So the king bade fetch him, and when he saw the two horses343 he said, “This is worth a thousand and that two thousand ducats.” Quoth the folk, “This horse thou misjudgest is evidently a thoroughbred and he is younger and faster and compacter of limb and finer of head and clearer of colour and skin than the other;” presently adding, “What assurance hast thou of the sooth of thy saying?” And the old man said, “This ye state is true, all true; but his sire is old and this other is the son of a young horse. Now, when the son of an old horse standeth still a-breathing, his breath returneth not to him and his rider falleth into the hand of him who followeth after him; but the son of a young horse, an thou put him to speed and after making him run, alight from him, thou wilt find him, by reason of his robustness, untired.” Quoth the merchant, “’Tis even as the Shaykh avoucheth and he is an excellent judge.” And the king said, “Increase his allowance.” But the Shaykh stood still and did not go away; so the king asked him, “Why dost thou not go about thy business?” and he answered, “My business is with the king.” Said the king, “Name what thou wouldest have,” and the other replied, “I would have thee question me of the quintessence of men, even as thou has questioned me of the quintessence of horses.” Quoth the king, “We have no occasion to question thee thereof;” but quoth the old man, “I have occasion to acquaint thee.” “Say what thou wilt,” rejoined the king, and the Shaykh said, “Verily, the king is the son of a baker.” Cried the king, “How and whereby kennest thou that?” and the Shaykh replied, “Know, O king, that I have examined into degrees and dignities344 and have learned this.” Thereupon the king went in to his mother and asked her anent his sire, and she told him that the king her husband was impotent;345 “So,” quoth she, “I feared for the kingdom, lest it pass away, after his death; wherefore I yielded my person to a young man, a baker, and conceived by him and bare a man-child;346 and the kingship came into the hand of my son, that is, thyself.” So the king returned to the Shaykh and said to him, “I am indeed the son of a baker; so do thou expound to me the means whereby thou knewest me for this.” Quoth the other, “I knew that, hadst thou been the son of a king, thou wouldst have gifted me with things of price, such as rubies and the like; and wert thou the son of a Kazi, thou hadst given largesse of a dirham or two dirhams, and wert thou the son of any of the merchants, thou hadst given me muchel of money. But I saw that thou bestowedst upon me naught save two bannocks of bread and other rations, wherefore I knew thee to be the son of a baker;” and quoth the king, “Thou hast hit the mark.” Then he gave him wealth galore and advanced him to high estate. The tale aforesaid pleased King Shah Bakht and he marvelled thereat; but the Wazir said to him, “This story is not stranger than that of the Richard who married his beautiful daughter to the poor Shaykh.” The king’s mind was occupied with the promised tale and he bade the Wazir withdraw to his lodging; so he went and abode there the rest of the night and the whole of the following day.
334 Arab. “Jauhar”=the jewel, the essential nature of a substance. Compare M. Alcofribas’ “Abstraction of the Quintessence.”
335 In parts of the Moslem world Al-Jabr=the tyranny, is the equivalent of what we call “civil law,” as opposed to Al-Sharí’ah, or Holy Law, the religious code; Diwan al-Jabr (Civil Court) being the contrary of the Mahkamah or Kazi’s tribunal. See “First Footsteps in East Africa,” p. 126.
336 i.e. in offering thee the kingship.
337 i.e. “a man of fourscore.”
338 i.e. outside the city.
339 See the conclusion of the story.
340 i.e. I have said my say.
341 Arab. “Al-Mutabattil,” usually=one who forsakes the world. The Katarát alNaysán or rain-drops in the month Naysán (April) produce pearls when falling into the oyster-shells and poison in the serpent’s mouth. The allusions to them are innumerable in Persian poetry, and the idea gives rise to a host of moralities more or less insipid.
342 This is the general idea concerning the diamond in all countries where the gem is dug, but I never heard it of the pearl.
343 Arab. “Faras,” properly a mare; but the writer begins by using the feminine, and then employs the masculine. It is an abominable text.
344 Arab. “Rutab wa manázil,” may also mean “stations and mansions (of the moon and planets).” The double entendre was probably intended.
345 Arab. “Za-íf,” still a popular word, meaning feeble, sick, ailing, but especially, weak in venery.
346 See the original of this tale in King Al-Af’á: Al-Mas’udí, chap. xlvi.
When the evening evened, the king sat private in his sitting-chamber and bade fetch the Wazir. When he presented himself before him, he said to him, “Tell me the tale of the Richard.” The Minister replied, “I will. Hear, O puissant king,
A certain rich merchant had a beautiful daughter, who was as the full moon, and when she attained the age of fifteen, her father betook himself to an old man and spreading him a carpet in his sitting-chamber, gave him to eat and conversed and caroused with him. Then said he to him, “I desire to marry thee to my daughter.” The other drew back, because of his poverty, and said to him, “I am no husband for her nor am I a match for thee.” The merchant was urgent with him, but he repeated his answer to him, saying, “I will not consent to this till thou acquaint me with the cause of thy desire for me. An I find it reasonable, I will fall in with thy wish; and if not, I will not do this ever.” Quoth the merchant, “Thou must know that I am a man from the land of China and was in my youth well-favoured and well-to-do. Now I made no account of womankind, one and all, but followed after youths,347 and one night I saw, in a dream, as it were a balance set up, and hard by it a voice said, ‘This is the portion of Such-an-one.’ I listened and presently I heard my own name; so I looked and behold, there stood a woman loathly to the uttermost; whereupon I awoke in fear and cried, ‘I will never marry, lest haply this fulsome female fall to my lot.’ Then I set out for this city with merchandise and the journey was pleasant to me and the sojourn here, so that I took up my abode in the place for a length of time and gat me friends and factors. At last I sold all my stock-in-trade and collected its price and there was left me nothing to occupy me till the folk348 should depart and I depart with them. One day, I changed my clothes and putting gold into my sleeve, sallied forth to inspect the holes and corners of this city, and as I was wandering about, I saw a handsome house: its seemliness pleased me; so I stood looking on it and beheld a lovely woman at the window. When she saw me, she made haste and descended, whilst I abode confounded. Then I betook myself to a tailor there and questioned him of the house and anent whose it was. Quoth he, ‘It belongeth to Such-an-one the Notary,349 God damn him!’ I asked, ‘Is he her sire?’ and he answered, ‘Yes.’ So I repaired in great hurry to a man, with whom I had been wont to deposit my goods for sale, and told him I desired to gain access to Such-an-one the Notary. Accordingly he assembled his friends and we betook ourselves to the Notary’s house. When we came in to him, we saluted him and sat with him, and I said to him, ‘I come to thee as a suitor, desiring in marriage the hand of thy daughter.’ He replied, ‘I have no daughter befitting this man;’ and I rejoined, ‘Allah aid thee! My desire is for thee and not for her.’350 But he still refused and his friends said to him, ‘This is an honourable match and a man thine equal, nor is it lawful to thee that thou hinder the young lady of her good luck.’ Quoth he to them, ‘She will not suit him!’ nevertheless they were instant with him till at last he said, ‘Verily, my daughter whom ye seek is passing illfavoured and in her are all blamed qualities of person.’ And I said, ‘I accept her, though she be as thou sayest.’ Then said the folk, ‘Extolled be Allah! Cease we to talk of a thing settled; so say the word, how much wilt thou have to her marriagesettlement?’ Quoth he, ‘I must have four thousand sequins;’ and I said, ‘To hear is to obey!’ Accordingly the affair was concluded and we drew up the contract of marriage and I made the bride-feast; but on the wedding-night I beheld a thing351 than which never made Allah Almighty aught more fulsome. Methought her folk had devised this freak by way of fun; so I laughed and looked for my mistress, whom I had seen at the window, to make her appearance; but saw her not. When the affair was prolonged and I found none but her, I was like to lose my wits for vexation and fell to beseeching my Lord and humbling myself in supplication before Him that He would deliver me from her. When I arose in the morning, there came the chamberwoman and said to me, ‘Hast thou need of the bath?’352 I replied, ‘No;’ and she asked, ‘Art thou for breakfast?’ But I still answered ‘No;’ and on this wise I abode three days, tasting neither meat nor drink. When the young woman my wife saw me in this plight, she said to me, ‘O man, tell me thy tale, for, by Allah, if I may effect thy deliverance, I will assuredly further thee thereto.’ I gave ear to her speech and put faith in her sooth and acquainted her with the adventure of the damsel whom I had seen at the window and how 1 had fallen in love with her; whereupon quoth she, ‘An that girl belong to me, whatso I possess is thine, and if she belong to my sire, I will demand her of him and detain her from him and deliver her to thee.’ Then she fell to summoning hand-maid after hand-maid and showing them to me, till I saw the damsel whom I loved and said, ‘This is she.’ Quoth my wife, ‘Let not thy heart be troubled, for this is my slave-girl. My father gave her to me and I give her to thee:353 so comfort thyself and be of good cheer and of eyes cool and clear.’ Then, when it was night, she brought the girl to me, after she had adorned her and perfumed her, and said to her, ‘Cross not this thy lord in aught and every that he shall seek of thee.’ When she came to bed with me, I said in myself, ‘Verily, this my spouse is more generous than I!’ Then I sent away the slave-girl and drew not near her, but arose forthwith and betaking myself to my wife, lay with her and abated her maidenhead. She conceived by me at the first bout; and, accomplishing the time of her pregnancy, gave birth to this dear little daughter; in whom I rejoiced, for that she was beautiful exceedingly, and she hath inherited her mother’s sound sense and the comeliness of her sire. Indeed, many of the notables of the people have sought her of me in wedlock, but I would not wed her to any, because I saw in a dream, one night, that same balance set up and men and women being therein weighed, one against other, and meseemed I saw thee and her and the voice said to me, ‘This is such a man, the portion of such a woman.’354 Wherefore I knew that Almighty Allah had allotted her unto none other than thyself, and I choose rather to marry thee to her in my lifetime than that thou shouldst marry her after my death.” When the poor man heard the merchant’s story, he became desirous of wedding his daughter: so he took her to wife and was blessed of her with exceeding love. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this story on any wise stranger or this tale rarer than that of the Sage and his three Sons.” When the king heard his Minister’s story, he was assured that he would not slay him and said, “I will have patience with him, so I may get of him the story of the Sage and his three Sons.” And he bade him depart to his own house.
347 He says this without any sense of shame, coolly as Horace or Catullus wrote.
348 i.e. of the caravan with which he came.
349 Arab. “Al-’Adl.” In the form of Zú ’adl it = a legal witness, a man of good repute; in Marocco and other parts of the Moslem world ’Adul (plur. ’Udúl) signifies an assessor of the Kazi, a notary. Padre Lerchundy (loc. cit. p. 345) renders it notario.
350 i.e. I would marry thy daughter, not only for her own sake, but for alliance with thy family.
351 i.e. the bride’s face.
352 The Ghusl or complete ablution after car. cop.
353 Thus the girl was made lawful to him as a concubine by the “loathly ladye,” whose good heart redeemed her ill-looks.
354 Meaning the poor man and his own daughter.
When the evening evened, the king sat private in his chamber and summoning the Wazir, required of him the promised story. So Al-Rahwan said, “Hear, O king,
There was once a Sage of the sages, who had three sons and sons’ sons, and when they waxed many and their, seed multiplied, there befel dissension between them. So he assembled them and said to them, “Be ye single-handed against all others and despise not one another lest the folk despise you, and know that your case is the case of the man and the rope which he cut easily, when it was single; then he doubled it and could not cut it: on this wise is division and union.356 And beware lest ye seek help of others against your own selves or ye will fall into perdition, for by what means soever ye win your wish at his hand, his word will rank higher than your word. Now I have money which I will presently bury in a certain place, that it may be a store for you against the time of your need.” Then they left him and dispersed and one of the sons fell to spying upon his sire, so that he saw him hide the hoard outside the city. When he had made an end of burying it, the Sage returned to his house; and as soon as the morning morrowed, his son repaired to the place where he had seen his father bury the treasure and dug and took all the wealth he found and fared forth. When the old man felt that his death357 drew nigh, he called his sons to him and acquainted them with the place where he had hidden his hoard. As soon as he was dead, they went and dug up the treasure and came upon much wealth, for that the money, which the first son had taken singly and by stealth, was on the surface and he knew not that under it were other monies. So they carried it off and divided it and the first son claimed his share with the rest and added it to that which he had before taken, behind the backs of his father and his brethren. Then he married his cousin, the daughter of his father’s brother, and was blessed through her with a male-child, who was the goodliest of the folk of his time. When the boy grew up, his father feared for him poverty and decline of case, so he said to him, “Dear my son, know that during my green days I wronged my brothers in the matter of our father’s good, and I see thee in weal; but, an thou come to want, ask not one of them nor any other than they, for I have laid up for thee in yonder chamber a treasure; but do not thou open it until thou come to lack thy daily bread.” Then the man died, and his money, which was a great matter, fell to his son. The young man had not patience to wait till he had made an end of that which was with him, but rose and opened the chamber, and behold, it was empty and its walls were whitened, and in its midst was a rope hanging down as for a bucket and ten bricks, one upon other, and a scroll, wherein was written, “There is no help against death; so hang thyself and beg not of any, but kick away the bricks with thy toes, that there may be no escape for thy life, and thou shalt be at rest from the exultation of enemies and enviers and the bitterness of beggary.” Now when the youth saw this, he marvelled at that which his father had done and said, “This is an ill treasure.” Then he went forth and fell to eating and drinking with the folk, till naught was left him and he passed two days without tasting food, at the end of which time he took a handkerchief and selling it for two dirhams, bought bread and milk with the price and left it on the shelf and went out. Whilst he was gone, a dog came and seized the bread and polluted the milk, and when the young man returned and saw this, he beat his face, and fared forth distraught. Presently, he met a friend, to whom he discovered his case, and the other said to him, “Art thou not ashamed to talk thus? How hast thou wasted all this wealth and now comest telling lies and saying, The dog hath mounted on the shelf, and talking such nonsense?” And he reviled him. So the youth returned to his house, and verily the world had waxed black in his eyes and he cried, “My sire said sooth.” Then he opened the chamber door and piling up the bricks under his feet, put the rope about his neck and kicked away the bricks and swung himself off; whereupon the rope gave way with him and he fell to the ground and the ceiling clave asunder and there poured down on him a world of wealth. So he knew that his sire meant to chasten him by means of this and he invoked Allah’s mercy on him. Then he got him again that which he had sold of lands and houses and what not else and became once more in good case; his friends also returned to him and he entertained them for some time. Then said he to them one day, “There was with us bread and the locusts ate it; so we set in its place a stone, one cubit long and the like broad, and the locusts came and nibbled away the stone, because of the smell of the bread.” Quoth one of his friends (and it was he who had given him the lie concerning the dog and the bread and milk), “Marvel not at this, for rats and mice do more than that.” Thereupon he said, “Get ye home! In the days of my poverty 1 was a liar when I told you of the dogs jumping upon the shelf and eating the bread and defiling the milk; and to-day, because I am rich again, I say sooth when I tell you that locusts devoured a stone one cubit long and one cubit broad.” They were abashed by his speech and departed from him; and the youth’s good prospered and his case was amended. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this stranger or more seld-seen than the story of the Prince who fell in love with the picture.” Quoth the king, Shah Bakht, “Haply, an I hear this story, I shall gain wisdom from it: so I will not hasten in the slaying of this Minister, nor will I do him die before the thirty days have expired.” Then he gave him leave to withdraw, and he hied away to his own house.
355 Mr. Payne changes the Arab title to the far more appropriate heading, “Story of the Rich Man and his Wasteful Son.” The tale begins with Æsop’s fable of the faggot; and concludes with the “Heir of Linne,” in the famous Scotch ballad. Mr. Clouston refers also to the Persian Tale of Murchlis (The Sorrowful Wazir); to the Forty Vezirs (23rd Story) to Cinthio and to sundry old English chap-books.
356 Arab. “Tafrík wa’l-jam’a.”
357 Arab. “Wafát” pop. used as death, decease, departure; but containing the idea of departing to the mercy of Allah and “paying the debt of nature.” It is not so illomened a word as Maut=death.
When the day absconded and the evening arrived, the king sat private in his chamber and, summoning the Wazir, who presented himself to him, questioned him of the story. So the Minister said, “Hear, O auspicious king,
There was once, in a province of Persia, a king of the kings, who was great of degree, a magnifico, endowed with majesty and girt by soldiery; but he was childless. Towards the end of his life, his Lord vouchsafed him a male-child, and that boy grew up and was comely and learned all manner of lore. He made him a private place, which was a towering palace, edified with coloured marbles and jewels and paintings. When the Prince entered the palace, he saw in its ceiling the picture of a maiden, than whom he had never beheld a fairer of aspect, and she was surrounded by slave-girls; whereupon he fell down in a fainting fit and became distracted for love of her. Then he sat under the picture till his father came in to him one day, and finding him lean of limb and changed of complexion (which was by reason of his continual looking on that picture), imagined that he was ill and summoned the sages and the leaches, that they might medicine him. He also said to one of his cup-companions, “An thou canst learn what aileth my son, thou shalt have of me the white hand.”358 Thereupon he went in to him and spake him fair and cajoled him, till he confessed to him that his malady was caused by the picture. Then the courtier returned to the king and told him what ailed his son, whereupon he transported the Prince to another palace and made his former lodging the guest-house; and whoso of the Arabs was entertained therein, him he questioned of the picture, but none could give him tidings thereof, till one day, when there came a wayfarer who seeing the picture, cried, “There is no god but the God! My brother painted this portrait.” So the king sent for him and questioned him of the affair of the picture and where was he who had painted it. He replied, “O my lord, we are two brothers and one of us went to the land of Hind and fell in love with the Indian king’s daughter, and ’tis she who is the original of the portrait. He is wont in every city he entereth to limn her likeness, and I follow him, and longsome is my way.” When the king’s son heard this, he said, “Needs must I travel to this damsel.” So he took all manner rare store and riches galore and journeyed days and nights till he entered the land of Hind, nor did he reach it save after sore travail. Then he asked of the King of Hind who also heard of him, and invited him to the palace. When the Prince came before him, he sought of him his daughter in marriage, and the king said, “Indeed, thou art her match, but there is one objection, to wit, none dare name a male before her because of her hate for men.” So he pitched his tents under her palace windows, till one day of the days he gat hold of a girl, one of her favourite slave-girls, and gave her a mint of money. Quoth she to him, “Hast thou a need?” and quoth he, “Yes,” and presently acquainted her with his case; when she said “‘In very sooth, thou puttest thyself in peril.” Then he tarried, flattering himself with false hopes, till all that he had with him was gone and the servants fled from him; whereupon he said to one in whom he trusted, “I am minded to repair to my country and fetch what may suffice me and return hither.” The other answered, “’Tis for thee to judge.” So they set out to return, but the way was long to them and all that the Prince had with him was spent and his company died and there abode but one with him whom he loaded with the little that remained of the victual and they left the rest and fared on. Then there came out a lion and devoured the servant, and the king’s son found himself alone. He went on, till his hackney stood still, whereupon he left it and walked till his feet swelled. Presently he came to the land of the Turks,359 and he naked, hungry, nor having with him aught but somewhat of jewels, bound about his fore-arm.360 So he went to the bazar of the goldsmiths and calling one of the brokers gave him the gems. The broker looked and seeing two great rubies, said to him, “Follow me.” Accordingly, he followed him, till he brought him to a goldsmith, to whom he gave the jewels, saying, “Buy these.” He asked, “Whence hadst thou these?” and the broker answered, “This youth is the owner of them.” Then said the goldsmith to the Prince, “Whence hadst thou these rubies?” and he told him all that had befallen him and that he was a king’s son. The goldsmith sat astounded at his adventures and bought of him the rubies for a thousand gold pieces. Then said the Prince to him, “Equip thyself to go with me to my country.” So he made ready and went with him till the king’s son drew near the frontiers of his sire’s kingdom, where the people received him with most honourable reception and sent to acquaint his father with his son’s arrival. The king came out to meet him and they entreated the goldsmith with respect and regard. The Prince abode a while with his sire, then set out, he and the goldsmith, to return to the country of the fair one, the daughter of the king of Hind; but there met him highwaymen by the way and he fought the sorest of fights and was slain. The goldsmith buried him and set a mark361 on his grave and returned to his own country sorrowing and distraught, without telling any of the Prince’s violent death. Such was the case of the king’s son and the goldsmith; but as regards the Indian king’s daughter of whom the Prince went in quest and on whose account he was slain, she had been wont to look out from the topmost terrace of her palace and to gaze on the youth and on his beauty and loveliness; so she said to her slave-girl one day, “Out on thee! What is become of the troops which were camped beside my palace?” The maid replied, “They were the troops of the youth, son to the Persian king, who came to demand thee in wedlock, and wearied himself on thine account, but thou hadst no ruth on him.” Cried the Princess, “Woe to thee! Why didst thou not tell me?” and the damsel replied, “I feared thy fury.” Then she sought an audience of the king her sire and said to him, “By Allah, I will go in quest of him, even as he came in quest of me; else should I not do him justice as due.” So she equipped herself and setting out, traversed the wastes and spent treasures till she came to Sistan, where she called a goldsmith to make her somewhat of ornaments. Now as soon as the goldsmith saw her, he knew her (for that the Prince had talked with him of her and had depictured her to him), so he questioned her of her case, and she acquainted him with her errand, whereupon he buffeted his face and rent his raiment and hove dust on his head and fell a-weeping. Quoth she, “Why dost thou all this?” And he acquainted her with the Prince’s case and how he was his comrade and told her that he was dead; whereat she grieved for him and faring on to his father and mother, acquainted them with the case. Thereupon the Prince’s father and his uncle and his mother and the lords of the land repaired to his grave and the Princess made mourning over him, crying aloud. She abode by the tomb a whole month; then she caused fetch painters and bade them limn her likeness and the portraiture of the king’s son. She also set down in writing their story and that which had befallen them of perils and afflictions and placed it, together with the pictures, at the head of the grave; and after a little, they departed from the spot. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this stranger, O king of the age, than the story of the Fuller and his Wife and the Trooper and what passed between them.” With this the king bade the Minister hie away to his lodging, and when he arose in the morning, he abode his day in his house.
358 i.e. gifts and presents. See vol. iv. 185.
359 i.e. Turcomans; presently called Sístán, for which see vol. ii. 218.
360 In my Pilgrimage (i. 38), 1 took from Mr. Galton’s Art of Travel, the idea of opening with a lancet the shoulder or other fleshy part of the body and inserting into it a precious stone. This was immensely derided by not a few including one who, then a young man from the country, presently became a Cabinet Minister. Despite their omniscience, however, the “dodge” is frequently practised. See how this device was practised by Jeshua Nazarenus, vol. v. 238.
361 Arab. “’Alam,” a pile of stones, a flag or some such landmark. The reader will find them described in “The Sword of Midian,” i. 98, and passim.
At eventide the king sat in his wonted seat and sending for the Wazir, said to him, “Tell me the story of the Fuller and his Wife.” The Minister replied, “With joy and goodly gree!” So he came forward and said, “Hear, O king of the age,
There was once in a city of the cities a woman fair of favour, who took to lover a trooper wight. Her husband was a fuller, and when he went out to his work, the trooper used to come to her and tarry with her till the time of the fuller’s return, when he would go away. After this fashion they abode awhile, till one day the trooper said to his mistress, “I mean to take me a tenement close to thine and dig a Sardábsouterrain from my house to thy house, and do thou say to thy spouse, ‘My sister hath been absent with her husband and now they have returned from their travels; and I have made her home herself in my neighbourhood, in order that I may foregather with her at all times. So go thou to her mate the trooper and offer him thy wares for sale, and thou wilt see my sister with him and wilt see that she is I and I am she, without a doubt. Now, Allah, Allah,363 go to my sister’s husband and give ear to that which he shall say to thee.’“ So the trooper bought him a house near hand and made therein a tunnel abutting upon his mistress’s house. When he had accomplished his affair, the wife bespoke her husband as her lover had lessoned her and he went out to go to the trooper’s house, but turned back by the way, whereupon said she to him, “By Allah, go at once, for my sister asketh of thee.” The fool of a fuller went out and made for the trooper’s house, whilst his wife forewent him thither by the underground passage, and going up, sat down beside the soldier her leman. Presently, the fuller entered and saluted the trooper and salamed to his own wife and was confounded at the coincidence of the case.364 Then, doubt befalling him, he returned in haste to his dwelling; but she preceded him by the Sardab to her chamber and donning her wonted clothes, sat awaiting him and said to him, “Did I not bid thee go to my sister and greet her husband and make friends with them?” Quoth he, “I did this, but I misdoubted of my affair, when I saw his wife;” and quoth she, “Did I not tell thee that she favoureth me and I her, and there is naught to distinguish between us but our clothes? Go back to her and make sure.” Accordingly, of the heaviness of his wit, he believed her, and returning on his way, went in to the trooper; but she had foregone him, and when he saw her by the side of her lover, he began looking on her and pondering. Then he saluted her and she returned him the salam; and when she spoke he was clean bewildered. So the trooper asked him, “What aileth thee to be thus?” and he answered, “This woman is my wife, and the speech is her speech.” Then he rose in haste and, returning to his own house, saw his wife, who had preceded him by the secret passage. So he went back to the trooper’s house and found her sitting as before; whereupon he was abashed in her presence and seating himself in the trooper’s sitting-chamber, ate and drank with him and became drunken and abode senseless all that day till nightfall, when the trooper arose and, the fuller’s hair being long and flowing, he shaved off a portion of it after the fashion of the Turks,365 clipped the rest short and clapped a Tarbúsh on his head. Then he thrust his feet into walking-boots and girt him with a sword and a girdle and bound about his middle a quiver and a bow and arrows. He also put some silvers in his poke and thrust into his sleeve letters-patent addressed to the governor of Ispahan, bidding him assign to Rustam Khamártakani a monthly allowance of an hundred dirhams and ten pounds of bread and five pounds of meat and enrol him among the Turks under his commandment. After which he took him up and carrying him forth, left him in one of the mosques. The fuller ceased not sleeping till sunrise, when he awoke and finding himself in this plight, misdoubted of his affair and fancied that he was a Turk and fell a-putting one foot forward and drawing the other back. Then said he in himself, “I will go to my dwelling, and if my wife know me, then am I Ahmad the fuller; but an she know me not, I am a Turk.” So he betook himself to his house; but when his wife, the cunning witch, saw him, she cried out in his face, saying, “Whither now, O trooper? Wilt thou break into the house of Ahmad the fuller, and he a man of repute, having a brother-in-law a Turk, a man of rank with the Sultan? An thou depart not, I will acquaint my husband and he will requite thee thy deed.” When he heard her words, the dregs of his drink wobbled in his brain and he fancied that he was indeed a Turk. So he went out from her and putting his hand to his sleeve, found therein a writ and gave it to one who read it to him. When he heard that which was in the scroll, his mind was confirmed in his phantasy; but he said to himself, “My wife may be seeking to put a cheat on me; so I will go to my fellows the fullers; and if they recognise me not, then am I for sure Khamartakani the Turk.” So he betook himself to the fullers and when they espied him afar off, they thought that he was really Khamartakani or one of the Turks, who used to send their washing to them without payment and give them never a stiver. Now they had complained of them aforetime to the Sultan, and he said, “If any one of the Turks come to you, pelt him with stones.” Accordingly, when they saw the fuller, they fell upon him with sticks and stones and pelted him; whereupon quoth he, “Verily, I am a Turk and knew it not.” Then he took of the dirhams in his pouch and bought him victual for the way and hired a hackney and set out for Ispahan, leaving his wife to the trooper. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the Merchant and the Crone and the King.” The Minister’s tale pleased King Shah Bakht and his heart clave to the story of the merchant and the old woman; so he bade Al-Rahwan withdraw to his lodging, and he went away to his house and abode there the next day till he should be summoned to the presence.
362 Mr. Clouston refers to the “Miles Gloriosus” (Plautus); to “Orlando Innamorato” of Berni (the Daughter of the King of the Distant Isles); to the “Seven Wise Masters” (“The Two Dreams,” or “The Crafty Knight of Hungary”); to his Book of Sindibad, p. 343 ff.; to Miss Busk’s Folk-Lore of Rome, p. 399 (“The Grace of the Hunchback”); to Prof. Crane’s “Italian Popular Tales,” p. 167, and “The Elopement,” from Pitrè’s Sicilian collection.
363 In sign of impatience; “Look sharp!”
364 i.e. the resemblance of the supposed sister to his wife. This is a rechauffé of Kamar al-Zamán iid.
365 This leaving a long lock upon the shaven poll is a very ancient practice: we find it amongst the old Egyptians. For the Shúshah or top-knot of hair, see vol. i. 308. It is differently worn in the several regions of the Moslem world: the Maroccans of the Ríf country grow it not on the poll but on one side of the head. As a rule, however, it is confined to boys, and is shaved off at puberty.
When the evening evened, the king sat private in his chamber and bade fetch the Wazir, who presented himself before him, and the king required of him the story. So the Wazir answered “With love and gladness. Hear, O king,
There was once a family of affluence and distinction, in a city of Khorasan, and the townsfolk used to envy them for that which Allah had vouchsafed them. As time went on, their fortune ceased from them and they passed away, till there remained of them but one old woman. When she grew feeble and decrepit, the townsfolk succoured her not with aught, but thrust her forth of the city, saying, “This old woman shall not neighbour with us, for that we do good to her and she requiteth us with evil.”366 So she took shelter in a ruined place and strangers used to bestow alms upon her, and in this way she tarried a length of time. Now the king of that city had aforetime contended for the kingship with his uncle’s son, and the people disliked the king; but Allah Almighty decreed that he should overcome his cousin. However, jealousy of him abode in his heart and he acquainted the Wazir, who hid it not and sent him money. Furthermore, he fell to summoning all strangers who came to the town, man after man, and questioning them of their creed and their goods, and whoso answered him not satisfactory, he took his wealth.367 Now a certain wealthy man of the Moslems was way-faring, without knowing aught of this, and it befel that he arrived at that city by night, and coming to the ruin, gave the old woman money and said to her, “No harm upon thee.” Whereupon she lifted up her voice and blessed him: so he set down his merchandise by her and abode with her the rest of the night and the next day. Now highwaymen had followed him that they might rob him of his monies, but succeeded not in aught: wherefore he went up to the old woman and kissed her head and exceeded in bounty to her. Then she warned him of that which awaited strangers entering the town and said to him, “I like not this for thee and I fear mischief for thee from these questions that the Wazir hath appointed for addressing the ignorant.” And she expounded to him the case according to its conditions: then said she to him, “But have thou no concern: only carry me with thee to thy lodging, and if he question thee of aught enigmatical, whilst I am with thee, I will expound the answers to thee.” So he carried the crone with him to the city and lodged her in his lodging and entreated her honourably. Presently, the Wazir heard of the merchant’s coming; so he sent to him and bade bring him to his house and talked with him awhile of his travels and of whatso had befallen him therein, and the merchant answered his queries. Then said the Minister, “I will put certain critical questions to thee, which an thou answer me, ’twill be well for thee,” and the merchant rose and made him no answer. Quoth the Wazir, “What is the weight of the elephant?” The merchant was perplexed and returned him no reply, giving himself up for lost; however, at last he said, “Grant me three days of delay.” The minister granted him the time he sought and he returned to his lodging and related what had passed to the old woman, who said, “When the morrow cometh, go to the Wazir and say to him, ‘Make a ship and launch it on the sea and put in it an elephant, and when it sinketh in the water, mark the place whereunto the water riseth. Then take out the elephant and cast in stones in its place, till the ship sink to that same mark; whereupon do thou take out the stones and weigh them and thou wilt presently know the weight of the elephant.’“368 Accordingly, when he arose in the morning, he went to the Wazir and repeated to him that which the old woman had taught him; whereat the Minister marvelled and said to him, “What sayest thou of a man, who seeth in his house four holes, and in each hole a viper offering to sally out upon him and slay him, and in his house are four sticks and each hole may not be stopped but with the ends of two sticks? How, then, shall he stop all the holes and deliver himself from the vipers?” When the merchant heard this, there befel him such concern that it garred him forget the first and he said to the Wazir, “Grant me delay, so I may reflect on the reply”; and the Minister cried, “Go out, and bring me the answer, or I will seize thy monies.” The merchant fared forth and returned to the old woman who, seeing him changed of complexion, said to him, “What did his hoariness ask thee?” So he acquainted her with the case and she cried, “Fear not; I will bring thee forth of this strait.” Quoth he, “Allah requite thee with weal!” Then quoth she, “To-morrow go to him with a stout heart and say, ‘The answer to that whereof thou asketh me is this. Put the heads of two sticks into one of the holes; then take the other two sticks and lay them across the middle of the first two and stop with their two heads the second hole and with their ferrules the fourth hole. Then take the ferrules of the first two sticks and stop with them the third hole.’“369 So he repaired to the Wazir and repeated to him the answer; and he marvelled at its justness and said to him, “Go; by Allah; I will ask thee no more questions, for thou with thy skill marrest my foundation.”370 Then he treated him as a friend and the merchant acquainted him with the affair of the old woman; whereupon quoth the Wazir, “Needs must the intelligent company with the intelligent.” Thus did this weak woman restore to that man his life and his monies on the easiest wise; “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the Simpleton Husband.” When the king heard this, he said, “How like it must be to this our own case!” Then he bade the Minister retire to his lodging; so he withdrew and on the morrow he abode at home till the king should summon him to his presence.
366 Suspecting her to be a witch because she was old and poor. The same was the case in Europe when these unfortunates were burned during the early part of the last century and even now the country-folk are often ready to beat or drown them. The abominable witchcraft acts, which arose from bibliolatry and belief in obsolete superstitions, can claim as many victims in “Protestant” countries, England and the Anglo-American States as the Jesuitical Inquisition.
367 It is not easy to make sense of this passage especially when the Wazir is spoken of.
368 This is a rechauffé of the Sandal-Wood Merchant and the Sharpers. Vol. vi. 202.
369 I have followed Mr. Payne’s adaptation of the text as he makes sense, whilst the Arabic does not. I suppose that the holes are disposed crosswise.
370 i.e. Thy skill is so great that thou wilt undermine my authority with the king.
When the night came, the king sat private in his chamber and sending after the Wazir, sought of him the story; and he said “Hear, O august king,
There was once in olden time a foolish man and an ignorant, who had abounding wealth, and his wife was a beautiful woman, who loved a handsome youth. The Cicisbeo used to watch for her husband’s absence and come to her, and on this wise he abode a long while. One day of the days, as the woman was closeted with her lover, he said to her, “O my lady and my beloved, an thou desire me and love me, give me possession of thy person and, satisfy my need in the presence of thy husband; otherwise I will never again come to thee nor draw near thee while I live my life.” Now she loved him with exceeding love and could not suffer his separation an hour nor could endure to anger him; so, when she heard his words, she said to him, “Bismillah, so be it, in Allah’s name, O my darling and coolth of mine eyes: may he not live who would vex thee!” Quoth he, “To-day?” and quoth she, “Yes, by thy life,” and made an appointment with him for this. When her husband came home, she said to him, “I want to go a-pleasuring,” and he said, “With all my heart.” So he went, till he came to a goodly place, abounding in vines and water, whither he carried her and pitched her a tent by the side of a tall tree; and she betook herself to a place alongside the tent and made her there a Sardáb, in which she hid her lover. Then said she to her husband, “I want to climb this tree;”372 and he said, “Do so.” So she clomb it and when she came to the tree-top, she cried out and slapped her face, saying, “O thou lecher, are these thy lewd ways? Thou swarest faith to me, and thou liedest.” And she repeated her speech twice and thrice. Then she came down from the tree and rent her raiment and said, “O lecher, an these be thy dealings with me before my eyes, how dost thou when thou art absent from me?” Quoth he, “What aileth thee?” and quoth she, “I saw thee futter the woman before my very eyes.” Cried he, “Not so, by Allah! But hold thy peace till I go up and see.” So he clomb the tree and no sooner did he begin to do so than out came the lover from his hiding-place and taking the woman by the legs, fell to shagging her. When the husband came to the top of the tree, he looked and beheld a man futtering his wife; so he called out, “O whore, what doings are these?” and he made haste to come down from the tree to the ground. But meanwhile the lover had returned to his hiding-place and his wife asked him, “What sawest thou?” and he answered, “I saw a man shag thee;” but she said, “Thou liest; thou sawest naught and sayst this only by way of phantasy.” The same they did three several times, and every time he clomb the tree the lover came up out of the underground place and mounted her, whilst her husband looked on and she still said, “Seest thou aught, O liar?” “Yes,” would he answer, and came down in haste, but saw no one and she said to him, “By my life, look and speak naught but sooth!” Then he cried to her, “Arise, let us depart this place, for ’tis full of Jinn and Marids.”373 Accordingly, they returned to their house and nighted there, and the man arose in the morning, assured that this was all but phantasy and fascination. And so the lover won his wicked will. “Nor, O king of the age,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the King and the Tither.” When the king heard this from the Minister, he bade him go away, and he went.
371 This famous tale is first found in a small collection of Latin fables (Adolphi Fabulæ apud Leyser Hist. Poet. Medii Ævi, p. 200–8), beginning
Cæcus erat quidam, cui pulcra virago, etc.
The date is 1315, and Caxton printed it in English in 1483; hence it was adopted by Boccaccio, Day vii., Novella 9; whence Chaucer’s “Marchaundes Tale”: this, by-the-by, was translated by Pope in his sixteenth or seventeenth year, and christened “January and May.” The same story is inserted in La Fontaine (Contes, lib. ii., No. 8), “La Gageure des trois Commères,” with the normal poirier; and lastly it appears in Wieland’s “Oberon,” canto vi.; where the Fairy King restores the old husband’s sight, and Titania makes the lover on the pear-tree invisible. Mr. Clouston refers me also to the Bahár-i-Dánish, or Prime of Knowledge (Scott’s translation, vol. ii., pp. 64–68); “How the Brahman learned the Tirrea Bede”; to the Turkish “Kirk Wazir” (Forty Wazirs) of the Shaykh-Zadeh (xxivth Wazir’s story); to the “Comœdia Lydiæ,” and to Barbazan’s “Fabliaux et Contes” t. iii. p. 451, “La Saineresse,” the cupping-woman.
372 In the European versions it is always a pear-tree.
373 This supernatural agency, ever at hand and ever credible to Easterns, makes this the most satisfactory version of the world-wide tale.
When it was eventide, the king summoned the Wazir and sought of him the story of the King and the Tither, and he said, “Hear, O king,
There was once a king of the kings of the earth, who dwelt in a flourishing city, abounding in good; but he wronged its people and entreated them foully, so that he ruined the city; and he was named naught else but tyrant and oppressor. Now he was wont, whenas he heard of a violent man in another land, to send after him and lure him with lucre to take service with him; and there was a certain Tither, who exceeded all other Tithers in oppression of the people and foul dealing. So the king sent after him and when he stood before him, he found him a man of mighty fine presence and said to him, “Thou hast been described to me, but I see thou surpassest the description. Set out to me some of thy doings and sayings, so I may be dispensed therewith from enquiring into the whole of thy case.” Answered the other, “With all my heart! Know, O King, that I oppress the folk and people the land, whilst other than I ruineth it and peopleth it not.” Now the king was leaning back: but presently he sat upright and said, “Tell me of this.” The Tither replied, “’Tis well: I go to the man whom I purpose to tithe and cozen him and feign to be busied with certain business, so that I seclude myself therewith from the people; and meanwhile the man is squeezed with the foulest of extortion, till naught of money is left him. Then I appear and they come in to me and questions arise concerning him and I say, ‘Indeed, I was ordered worse than this, for some one (may Allah curse him!) hath slandered him to the king.’ Presently I take half of his good and return him the rest publicly before the folk and dismiss him to his house, in all honour and worship, and he garreth the money returned be carried before him, whilst he blesseth me and all who are with him also bless me. So is it bruited abroad in the city that I have restored to him his monies and he himself notifieth the like, to the intent that he may have a claim on me for the favour due to those who praise me. On this wise I keep half his property. Then I seem to forget him till the year374 hath passed over him, when I send for him and recall to him somewhat of that which hath befallen aforetime and require of him somewhat of money in secret; accordingly he doth this and hasteneth to his house and forwardeth whatso I bid him, with a contented heart. Then I send to another man, between whom and the first is enmity, and lay hands upon him and feign to the other man that it is he who hath slandered him to the king and hath taken the half of his good; and the people praise me.”375 The King wondered at this and at his wily dealing and clever contrivance and made him controller of all his affairs and of his kingdom and the land was placed under his governance, and he said to him, “Take and people.” 376 One day, the Tither went out and saw an old man, a woodcutter, and with him wood; so he said to him, “Pay a dirham tithe for thy load.” Quoth the Shaykh, “Behold, thou killest me and killest my family;” and quoth the Tither, “What? Who killeth the folk?” And the oldster answered, “An thou let me enter the city, I shall there sell the load for three dirhams, whereof I will give thee one and buy with the other two silvers what will support my family; but, an thou press me for the tithe outside the city, the load will sell but for one dirham and thou wilt take it and I shall abide without food, I and my family. Indeed, thou and I in this circumstance are like unto David and Solomon (on the twain be the Peace!)” “How so?” asked the Tither, and the woodcutter answered, “Do thou hear
374 i.e. till next harvest time.
375 The “’Ashshár,” or Tither, is most unpopular in the Nile-valley as in Wales; and he generally merits his ill-repute. Tales concerning the villainy of these extortioners abound in Egypt and Syria. The first step in improvement will be so to regulate the tithes that the peasants may not be at the mercy of these “publicans and sinners” who, however, can plead that they have paid highly for appointment to office and must recoup themselves.
376 Arab. “’Ammir”=cause to flourish.
Certain husbandmen once made complaint to David (on whom be the Peace!) against some sheep-owners, whose flocks had come down upon their crops by night and had devoured them, and he bade value the crops and that the shepherds should make good the damage. But Solomon (on whom be the Peace!) rose and said, “Nay, but let the sheep be delivered to the husbandmen, so they may take their milk and wool, till they have recouped the value of their crops; then let the sheep return to their owners.” Accordingly David reversed his own decision and caused execute that of Solomon; yet was David no oppressor; but Solomon’s judgment was the juster and he showed himself therein better versed in jurisprudence and Holy Law.377 When the Tither heard the old man’s speech, he felt ruthful and said to him, “O Shaykh, I make thee a gift of that which is due from thee, and do thou cleave to me and leave me not, so haply I may get of thee gain which shall do away from me my wrongousness and guide me on the path of righteousness.” So the old man followed him, and there met him another with a load of wood. Quoth the Tither to him, “Pay me that which thou owest me;” and quoth he, “Have patience with me till to-morrow, for I owe the hire of a house, and I will sell another load of fuel and pay thee two days’ tithe.” But he refused him this and the Shaykh said to him, “An thou constrain him unto this, thou wilt compel him quit thy country, because he is a stranger here and hath no domicile; and if he remove on account of one dirham, thou wilt forfeit of him three hundred and sixty dirhams a year.378 Thus wilt thou lose the mickle in keeping the little.” Quoth the Tither, “Verily379 will I give him a dirham every month to the rent of his lodging.” Then he went on and presently there met him a third woodcutter and he said to him, “Pay thy due;” but he said, “I will pay thee a dirham, when I enter the city; or take of me four dániks380 now.” Quoth the Tither, “I will not do it,” but the Shaykh said to him, “Take of him the four daniks presently, for ’tis easy to take and hard to give back.” Exclaimed the Tither, “By Allah ’tis good!” and he arose and hied on, crying out at the top of his voice and saying, “I have no power this day to do evil.”381 Then he doffed his dress and went forth wandering at a venture, repenting unto his Lord. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this story stranger than that of the Robber who believed the Woman and sought refuge with Allah against falling in with her like, by reason of her cunning contrivance for herself.” When the king heard this, he said to himself, “Since the Tither repented, in consequence of the woodcutter’s warnings, it behoveth I leave this Wazir on life so I may hear the story of the Robber and the Woman.” And he bade Al-Rahwan return to his lodging.
377 Arab. “Afkah,” a better Fakíh or theologian; all Moslem law being based upon the Koran, the Sayings (Hadis) and Doings (Sunnat) of the Prophet; and, lastly, the Rasm or immemorial custom of the country provided that it be not opposed to the other three.
378 If the number represent the days in the Moslem year it should be 354=6 months of 29 days and the rest of 30).
379 The affirmative particle “kad” preceding a verb in the past gives it a present and at times a future signification.
380 A danik, the Persian “Dáng,” is one-sixth of a dirham, i.e. about one penny. See vol. ii. 204.
381 It would mightily tickle an Eastern audience to hear of a Tither being unable to do any possible amount of villainy.
When the evening came and the king had taken his seat, he summoned the Wazir and required of him the story of the Robber and the Woman. Quoth the Minister, “Hear, O king,
A certain Robber was a cunning workman and used not to steal aught, till he had wasted all that was with him; moreover, he stole not from his neighbours, neither companied with any of the thieves, for fear lest some one should betray him, and his case become public. After this fashion he abode a great while, in flourishing condition, and his secret was concealed, till Almighty Allah decreed that he broke in upon a beggar, a poor man whom he deemed rich. When he gained access to the house, he found naught, whereat he was wroth, and necessity prompted him to wake that man, who lay asleep alongside of his wife. So he aroused him and said to him, “Show me thy treasure.” Now he had no treasure to show; but the Robber believed him not and was instant upon him with threats and blows. When he saw that he got no profit of him, he said to him, “Swear by the oath of divorce382 from thy wife that thou hast nothing.” So he sware and his wife said to him, “Fie on thee! Wilt thou divorce me? Is not the hoard buried in yonder chamber?” Then she turned to the Robber and conjured him to be weightier of blows upon her husband, till he should deliver to him the treasure, anent which he had forsworn himself. So he drubbed him with a grievous drubbing, till he carried him to a certain chamber, wherein she signed to him that the hoard was and that he should take it up. So the Robber entered, he and the husband; and when they were both in the chamber, she locked on them the door, which was a stout and strong, and said to the Robber, “Woe to thee, O fool! Thou hast fallen into the trap and now I have but to cry out and the officers of police will come and take thee and thou wilt lose thy life, O Satan!” Quoth he, “Let me go forth;” and quoth she, “Thou art a man and I am a woman; and in thy hand is a knife, and I am afraid of thee.” He cried, “Take the knife from me.” So she took it and said to her husband, “Art thou a woman and he a man? Pain his neck-nape with tunding, even as he tunded thee; and if he put out his hand to thee, I will cry out a single cry and the policemen will come and take him and hew him in two.” So the husband said to him, “O thousand-horned,383 O dog, O dodger, I owe thee a deposit384 wherefor thou hast dunned me.” And he fell to bashing him grievously with a stick of holm-oak,385 whilst he called out to the woman for help and prayed her to deliver him: but she said, “Keep thy place till the morning, and thou shalt see queer things.” And her husband beat him within the chamber, till he killed386 him and he swooned away. Then he left beating him and when the Robber came to himself, the woman said to her husband, “O man, this house is on hire and we owe its owners much money, and we have naught; so how wilt thou do?” And she went on to bespeak him thus. The Robber asked “And what is the amount of the rent?” ‘The husband answered, “’Twill be eighty dirhams;” and the thief said, “I will pay this for thee and do thou let me go my way.” Then the wife enquired, “O man, how much do we owe the baker and the greengrocer?” Quoth the Robber, “What is the sum of this?” And the husband said, “Sixty dirhams.” Rejoined the other, “That makes two hundred dirhams; let me go my way and I will pay them.” But the wife said, O my dear, and the girl groweth up and needs must we marry her and equip her and do what else is needful.” So the Robber said to the husband, “How much dost thou want?” and he rejoined, “An hundred dirhams in a modest way.”387 Quoth the Robber, “That maketh three hundred dirhams.” Then the woman said, “O my dear, when the girl is married, thou wilt need money for winter expenses, charcoal and firewood and other necessaries.” The Robber asked “What wouldst thou have?” And she answered, “An hundred dirhams.” He rejoined, “Be it four hundred dirhams.” And she continued, “O my dear and O coolth of mine eyes, needs must my husband have capital in hand,388 wherewith he may buy goods and open him a shop.” Said he, “How much will that be?” And she, “An hundred dirhams.” Quoth the Robber, “That maketh five hundred dirhams; I will pay it; but may I be triply divorced from my wife if all my possessions amount to more than this, and they be the savings of twenty years! Let me go my way, so I may deliver them to thee.” Cried she, “O fool, how shall I let thee go thy way? Utterly impossible! Be pleased to give me a right token.”389 So he gave her a token for his wife and she cried out to her young daughter and said to her, “Keep this door.” Then she charge her husband to watch over the Robber, till she should return, and repairing to his wife, acquainted her with his case and told her that her husband the thief had been taken and had compounded for his release, at the price of seven hundred dirhams, and named to her the token. Accordingly, she gave her the money and she took it and returned to her house. By this time, the dawn had dawned; so she let the thief go his way, and when he went out, she said to him, “O my dear, when shall I see thee come and take the treasure?” And he, “O indebted one,390 when thou needest other seven hundred dirhams, wherewith to amend thy case and that of thy children and to pay thy debts.” And he went out, hardly believing in his deliverance from her. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the Three Men and our Lord Ísà.” So the king bade him hie to his own home.
382 i.e. The oath of triple divorce which is, I have said, irrevocable, and the divorcée may not be taken again by her husband till her marriage with another man (the Mustahill of The Nights) has been consummated. See vol. iv., 48.
383 i.e. thousandfold cuckold.
384 Arab. “Wadí’ah”=the blows which the Robber had given him.
385 Arab. “Sindiyán” (from the Persian) gen. used for the holm-oak, the Quercus pseudococcifera, vulgarly termed ilex, or native oak, and forming an extensive scrub in Syria, For this and other varieties of Quercus, as the Mallúl and the Ballút, see Unexplored Syria, i. 68.
386 Hibernicè
387 Lit. “In the way of moderation”=at least, at the most moderate reckoning.
388 Arab. “Rasmál,” the vulg. Syrian and Egyptian form of Raas al-mál=stockin-trade.
389 Usually a ring or something from his person to show that all was fair play; here however, it was a watchword.
390 Arab. “Ya Madyúbah,” prob. a clerical error for “Madyúnah,” alluding to her many debts which he had paid. Here, however, I suspect the truly Egyptian term “Yá Manyúkah!”=O thou berogered; a delicate term of depreciation which may be heard a dozen times a day in the streets of Cairo. It has also a masculine form, “Yá Manyúk!”
When it was eventide, the king summoned the Minister and bade him tell the promised tale. He replied, “Hearing and obeying. Give ear, O glorious king, to
Three men once went out questing treasure and came upon a nugget of gold, weighing fifty maunds.391 When they saw it, they took it up on their shoulders and carried it till they drew near a certain city, when one of them said, “Let us sit in the cathedral-mosque,392 whilst one of us shall go and buy us what we may eat.” So they sat down in the mosque and one of them arose and entered the city. When he came therein, his soul prompted him to false his two fellows and get the gold to himself alone. Accordingly, he bought food and poisoned it: but, when he returned to his comrades, they sprang upon him and slew him, in order that they might enjoy the gold without him. Then they ate of the poisoned food and died, and the gold lay cast down over against them. Presently, Ísà bin Maryam (on whom be the Peace!) passed by and seeing this, besought Allah Almighty for tidings of their case; so He told him what had betided them, whereat great was his surprise and he related to his disciples393 what he had seen. Quoth one of them, “O Spirit of Allah,394 naught resembleth this but my own adventure.” Quoth Isa, “How so?” and the other began to tell
391 About=100 lb. Mr. Sayce (Comparative Philol. p. 210) owns that Mn is old Egyptian but makes it a loan from the “Semites,” like Sús (horse), Sar (prince), Sepet (lip) and Murcabutha (chariot), and goes to its origin in the Acratan column, because “it is not found before the times when the Egyptians borrowed freely from Palestine.” But surely it is premature to draw such conclusion when we have so much still to learn concerning the dates of words in Egyptian.
392 Arab. Jámi’. This anachronism, like many of the same kind, is only apparent. The faith preached by Sayyidná Isà was the Islam of his day and dispensation, and it abrogated all other faiths till itself abrogated by the mission of Mahommed. It is therefore logical to apply to it terms which we should hold to be purely Moslem. On the other hand it is not logical to paint the drop-curtain of the Ober-Ammergau “Miracle-play” with the Mosque of Omar and the minarets of Al-Islam. I humbly represented this fact to the mechanicals of the village whose performance brings them in so large a sum every decade; but Snug, Snout and Bottom turned up the nose of contempt and looked upon me as a mere “shallow sceptic.”
393 Arab. “Talámizah,” plur. of Tilmíz, a disciple, a young attendant. The word is Syriac <Arabic letters> and there is a Heb. root <Hebrew letters> but no Arabic. In the Durrat al-Ghawwás, however, Tilmíz, Bilkís, and similar words are Arabic in the form of Fa’líl and Fi’líl
394 Rúh Allah, lit.=breath of Allah, attending to the miraculous conception according to the Moslems. See vol. v. 238.
Once I was in such a city, where I hid a thousand dirhams in a monastery. After a while, I went thither and taking the money, bound it about my waist. Then I set out to return and when I came to the Sahará395-waste, the carrying of the money was heavy upon me. Presently, I espied a horseman pushing on after me; so I waited till he came up and said to him, “O rider, carry this money for me and earn reward and recompense in Heaven.” Said he, “No, I will not do it, for I should tire myself and tire out my horse.” Then he went on but, before he had gone far, he said in his mind, “An I take up the money and put my steed to speed and devance him, how shall he overtake me?” And I also said in my mind, “Verily, I erred; for, had he taken the money and made off, what could I have done?” Then he turned back to me and cried to me, “Hand over the money, that I may carry it for thee.” But I replied to him, “That which hath occurred to thy mind hath occurred to mine also; so go thou and go safe.” Quoth Isa (on whom be the Peace!), “Had these done prudently, they had taken thought for themselves; but they unheeded the issues of events; for that whoso acteth cautiously is safe and winneth his wish, and whoso neglecteth precaution is lost and repenteth.”396 “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger or rarer than the story of the King, whose kingdom was restored to him and his wealth, after he had become poor, possessing not a single dirham.” When the king heard this, he said in himself, “How like is this to my own story in the matter of the Minister and his slaughter! Had I not used deliberation, I had done him dead.” And he bade AlRahwan hie to his own home.
395 Readers will kindly pronounce this word “Sahrá” not Sahárá.
396 Mr. Clouston refers for analogies to this tale to his “Oriental Sources of some of Chaucer’s Tales” (Notes and Queries, 1885–86), and he finds the original of The Pardoner’s Tale in one of the Játakas or Buddhist Birth-stories entitled Vedabbha Jataka. The story is spread over all Europe; in the Cento Novelle Antiche; Morlini; Hans Sachs, etc. And there are many Eastern versions, e.g. a Persian by Faríd al-Dín “’Attar” who died at a great age in A.D. 1278; an Arabic version in The Orientalist (Kandy, 1884); a Tibetan in Rollston’s Tibetan Tales; a Cashmirian in Knowles’ Dict. of Kashmírí Proverbs, etc., etc., etc.
When the even evened, the king sent for the Wazir to his sitting-chamber and bade him tell the promised tale. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. They relate, O king,
There was once, in a city of the cities of Al-Hind, a just king and a beneficent, and he had a Wazir, a man of understanding, upright in his rede, and praiseworthy in his policy, a Minister in whose hand was the handling of all the affairs of the realm; for he was firmly based on the Sultan’s favour and high in esteem with the folk of his time, and the king set great store by him and entrusted himself to him in all his transactions, by reason of his excellent management of the lieges, and he had guards397 who were content with him and grateful to him. Now that king had a brother, who envied him and would lief have taken his place; and when he was a-weary of looking for his death and the term of his life seemed distant, he took counsel with certain of his partisans and they said, “The Minister is the monarch’s counsellor and but for this Wazir the king were kingdomless.” So the pretender cast about for the ruin of the defender, but could find no means of furthering his design; and when the affair grew longsome upon him, he said to his wife, “What deemest thou will gar us gain herein?” “What is it?” “I mean in the matter of yonder Minister, who inciteth my brother to worship with all his might and biddeth him unto devoutness, and indeed the king doteth upon his counsel and stablisheth him governor of all monies and matters.” “True; but how shall we devise with him?” “I have a device, so thou wilt help me in that which I shall say to thee.” “Thou shalt have my help in whatsoever thou desirest.” “I mean to dig him a pit in the vestibule and conceal it artfully.” Accordingly, he did this, and when it was night, he covered the pit with a light covering, so that, when the Wazir trod upon it, it would give way under his tread. Then he sent to him and summoned him to the Court in the king’s name, and the messenger bade him enter by the private wicket-way. So he came in alone, and when he stepped upon the covering of the pit, it caved in with him and he fell to the bottom; whereupon the king’s brother fell to pelting him with stones. When the Minister beheld what had betided him he gave himself up for lost; so he stirred not for a while and lay still. The Prince, seeing him make no sign, deemed him dead; so he took him forth and wrapping him up in his robes, cast him into the surges of the sea in the middle night. When the Wazir felt the water, he awoke from the swoon and swam for an hour or so, till a ship passed by him, whereupon he shouted to the sailors and they took him up. Now when the morning morrowed, the people went seeking for him, but found him not; and the king learning this, was perplexed concerning his affair and abode unknowing whatso he should do. Then he sought for a Minister to stand in his stead, and the king’s brother said, “I have for Wazir an efficient man.” Said the king, “Bring him to me.” So he brought him a man, whom he set at the head of affairs; but he seized upon the kingdom and threw the king in fetters and made his brother king in lieu of him. The new ruler gave himself up to all manner of frowardness, whereat the folk murmured and his Minister said to him, “I fear lest the Hindians take the old king and restore him to the kingship and we both come to ruin: so, if we seize him and cast him into the sea, we shall be at rest from him; and we will publish among the folk that he is dead.” And they, agreeing upon this, took him up and carrying him out to sea, cast him in. When he felt the water, he struck out, and ceased not swimming till he landed upon an island, where he tarried five days finding nothing which he might eat or drink; but, on the sixth day, when he despaired of his life, behold, there passed a ship; so he made signals to the crew and they came and took him up and fared on with him to an inhabited country, where they set him ashore, mother-naked as he was. There, seeing a man seeding, he sought guidance of him and the husbandman asked, “Art thou a foreigner?” “Yes,” answered the king and sat with him and they talked. The peasant found him clever and quick-witted and said to him, “An thou beheld a comrade of mine, thou wouldst see him the like of what I see thee, for his case is even as thy case, and he is at this present my friend.” Quoth the king, “Verily, thou makest me long to look at him. Canst thou not bring us together, me and him?” Quoth the husbandman, “With joy and goodly gree;” and the king sat with him till he had made an end of his seeding, when he carried him to his homestead and brought him in company with the other stranger, and behold it was his Wazir. When each saw other, the twain wept and embraced, and the sower wept for their weeping; but the king hid their affair and said to him, “This man is from my mother-land and he is as my brother.” So they homed with the husbandman and helped him for a hire, wherewith they supported themselves a long spell. Meanwhile, they sought news of their patrial stead and learned that which its people suffered of straitness and severity. One day there came a ship and in it a merchant from their own country, who knew them and rejoiced in them with joy exceeding and clad them in goodly clothing. He also acquainted them with the manner of the treachery that had been practised upon them, and counselled them to return to their own land, they and he with whom they had made friends,398 assuring them that Almighty Allah would restore them to their former rank. So the king returned and the folk joined themselves to him and he fell upon his brother and his Wazir and took them and threw them into jail. Then he sat down again upon the throne of his kingship, whilst the Minister stood between his hands and they returned to their former estate, but they had naught of worldly wealth. Presently the king said to his Wazir, “How shall we continue tarrying in this city, and we thus poorly conditioned?” and he answered, “Be at thine ease and have no concern.” Then he singled out one of the soldiers399 and said to him, “Send us thy service400 for the year.” Now there were in the city fifty thousand subjects401 and in the hamlets and villages402 a like number; and the Minister sent to each of these, saying, “Let each and every of you get an egg and set it under a hen.” They did this and it was neither burden nor grievance to them; and when twenty days had passed by, each egg was hatched, and the Wazir bade them pair the chickens, male with female, and rear them well. They did accordingly and it was found a charge unto no one. Then they waited for them awhile and after this the Minister asked of the chickens and was answered that they were become fowls. Furthermore, they brought him all their eggs and he bade set them; and after twenty days there were hatched from each pair of them thirty or five-and-twenty or fifteen chickens at the least. The Wazir bade note against each man the number of chickens which pertained to him, and after two months, he took the old partlets and the cockerels, and there came to him from each man some half a score, and he left the young partlets with them. Even so he sent to the country folk and let the cocks remain with them. Thus he got him whole broods of young poultry and appropriated to himself the sale of the fowls, and on this wise he gained for him, in the course of a year, that which the kingly estate required of the King, and his affairs were set right for him by the cunning contrivance of the Minister. And he caused the country to thrive and dealt justly by his subjects and returned to them all that he took from them and lived a grateful and prosperous life. Thus right counsel and prudence are better than wealth, for that understanding profiteth at all times and seasons. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the Man whose caution slew him.” When the king heard the words of his Wazir, he wondered with the uttermost wonder and bade him retire to his lodging.
397 Arab. “’Awán” lit.=aids, helpers; the “Aun of the Jinn” has often occurred.
398 i.e. the peasant.
399 i.e. those serving on the usual feudal tenure; and bound to suit and service for their fiefs.
400 i.e. the yearly value of his fief.
401 i.e. men who paid taxes.
402 Arab. “Rasátík” plur. of Rusták. See vol. vi. 289.
Whenthe Minister returned to the presence, the King sought of him the story of the Man whose caution slew him and he said, “Hear, O auspicious King,
There was once a man who was cautious exceedingly concerning himself, and he set out one day on a journey to a land abounding in wild beasts. The caravan wherewith he fared came by night to the gate of a city; but the warders would not open to them, for there were lions there; so they nighted without the walls. Now that man, of the excess of his caution, could not determine a place wherein he should pass the night, for fear of the wild beasts and reptiles; so he went about seeking an empty stead wherein he might lie. At last, as there was a ruined building hard by, he climbed up on to a high wall and ceased not clambering hither and thither, of the excess of his carefulness, till his feet betrayed him and he slipped and fell to the bottom and died, whilst his companions arose in the morning safe and sound. Now, had he overmastered his wrongous rede and had he submitted himself to Fate and Fortune, it had been safer and better for him; but he made light of the folk and belittled their wit and was not content to take example by them; for his soul whispered him that he was a man of wits and he fancied that, an he abode with them, he would perish; so his folly cast him into perdition. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the Man who was lavish of his house and his provision to one he knew not.” When the King heard this, he said, “I will not separate myself from the folk and slay my Minister.” And he bade him hie to his own house.
When the evening evened, the King bade fetch the Wazir and required of him the story. So he said, “Hear, O King,
There was once an Arab of high rank and noble presence, a model of magnanimity and exalted generosity, and he had brethren, with whom he consorted and caroused, and they were wont to assemble by rotation at one another’s homes. When it came to his turn, he gat ready in his house all manner goodly meats and pleasant and dainty drinks and the fairest flowers and the finest fruits, and he provided all kinds of instruments of music and store of wondrous dictes and marvellous stories and pleasant instances and histories and witty anecdotes and verses and what not else, for there was none among those with whom he was wont to company but enjoyed this in every goodly fashion, and the entertainment he had provided contained all whereof each had need. Then he sallied forth in quest of his friends, and went round about the city, so he might assemble them; but found none of them at home. Now in that town was a man of pleasant conversation and large generosity, a merchant of condition, young of years and bright of blee, who had come to that place from his own country with merchandise in great store and wealth galore. He took up his abode therein and the town was pleasant to him and he was large in lavishing, so that he came to the end of all this wealth and there remained in his hand naught save what was upon him of raiment. So he left the lodging which had homed him in the days of his prosperity; after he had wasted that which was therein of furniture, and fell to finding refuge in the houses of the townsfolk from night to night. One day, as he went wandering about the streets, he beheld a woman of the uttermost beauty and loveliness, and what he saw of her charms amazed him and there happened to him what made him forget his sorry plight. She accosted him and jested with him and he besought her of union and intimacy; so she consented to this and said to him, “Let us go to thy lodging.” Herewith he repented and was perplexed concerning his procedure and grieved for that which must escape him of her company by reason of the straitness of his hand, for that he had not a whit of spending-money. But he was ashamed to say “No,” after he had sued and wooed her; wherefore he went on before her, bethinking him how he should rid himself of her and seeking some excuse which he might put off on her, and gave not over going from street to street, till he entered one that had no issue and saw, at the farther end, a door, whereon was a padlock.403 Then said he to her, “Do thou excuse me, for my lad hath locked the door and how shall we open it?” Said she, “O my lord, the padlock is worth only some ten dirhams;” and presently she tucked up her sleeves from forearms as they were crystal and taking a stone, smote the padlock and broke it; and, opening the door, said to him, “Enter, O my lord.” Accordingly he went in, committing his affair to Allah (to whom belong Honour and Glory), and she entered after him and locked the door from within. They found themselves in a pleasant house, collecting all good and gladness; and the young man fared forwards, till he came to the sitting-chamber, and, behold, it was furnished with the finest of furniture as hath before been set out.404 He seated himself and leant upon a cushion, whilst she put out her hand to her veil and doffed it. Then she threw off her heavy outer clothes till she was clad in the thinnest which showed her charms, whereupon the young man embraced her and kissed her and enjoyed her; after which they washed with the Ghusl-ablution and returned to their place and he said to her, “Know that I have little knowledge of what goeth on in my own house, for that I trust to my servant: so arise thou and see what the lad hath made ready in the kitchen.” Accordingly, she arose and going down into the kitchen, saw cooking pots over the fire, wherein were all manner of dainty viands, and firstsbread405 and fresh almond cakes.406 So she set bread on a dish and ladled out what she would from the pots and brought it to him. They ate and drank and played and made merry a while of the day; and as they were thus engaged, suddenly up came the master of the house, with his friends, whom he had brought with him, that they might converse together, as of wont. He saw the door opened and knocked a light knock, saying to his company, “Have patience with me, for some of my family are come to visit me: wherefore excuse belongeth first to Allah Almighty, and then to you.”407 So they farewelled him and fared their ways, whilst he rapped another light rap at the door. When the young man heard this, he changed colour and the woman said to him, “Methinks thy lad hath returned.” He answered, “Yes;” and she arose and opening the door to the master of the house, said to him, “Where hast thou been? Indeed, thy master is angry with thee!” and he said, “O my lady, I have not been save about his business.” Then he girt his waist with a kerchief and entering, saluted the young merchant, who said to him, “Where hast thou been?” Quoth he, “I have done thine errands;” and quoth the youth, “Go and eat and come hither and drink.” So he went away, as he bade him, and ate; then he washed hands and returning to the sittingroom, sat down on the carpet and fell to talking with them; whereupon the young merchant’s heart was heartened and his breast broadened and he applied himself to pleasure. They were in all joyance of life and the most abounding pleasance till a third part of the night was past, when the house-master arose, and spreading them a bed, invited them to take their rest. So they lay down and the youth wide awake, pondering their affair till daybreak, when the woman roused herself from sleep and said to her companion, “I wish to go.” He farewelled her and she departed; whereupon the master of the house followed her with a purse of silver and gave it to her, saying, “Blame not my lord,” and made his excuse to her for his master. Then he returned to the youth and said to him, “Arise and come to the Hammam;”408 and he fell to shampooing his hands and feet, whilst the youth called down blessings on him and said “O my lord, who art thou? Methinks there is not in the world the like of thee; no, nor a pleasanter in thy disposition.” Then each of the twain acquainted the other with his case and condition and they went to the bath; after which the master of the house conjured the young merchant to return with him and summoned his friends. So they ate and drank and he told them the tale, wherefore they thanked the house-master and praised him; and their friendship was complete while the young merchant abode in the town, till Allah made easy to him a means of travel, whereupon they farewelled him and he departed; and this is the end of his tale. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “O king of the age, is this stranger than the story of the Richard who lost his wealth and his wit.” When the king heard the Minister’s story, it pleased him and he bade him hie to his home.
403 This adventure is a rechauffé of Amjad’s adventure (vol. iii. 333) without, however, its tragic catastrophe.
404 The text is so concise as to be enigmatical. The house was finely furnished for a feast, as it belonged to the Man who was lavish, etc.
405 Arab. “Khubz Samíz;” the latter is the Arabisation of the Pers. Samíd, fine white bread, simnel, Germ. semmel.
406 The text has “Bakúlát”=pot-herbs; but it is probably a clerical error for “Bakláwát.” See vol. ii. 311.
407 Egyptian-like he at once calls upon Allah to witness a lie and his excuse would be that the lie was well-intentioned.
408 i.e. The private bagnio which in old days every grand house possessed.
When the evening evened, the King sat in his sitting-chamber and sending for his Wazir, bade him relate the story of the Wealthy Man who lost his wealth and his wit. So he said, “Hear, O King,
There was once a Richard hight ’Ajlán, the Hasty, who wasted his wealth, and concern and chagrin gat the mastery of him, so that he became a Melancholist410 and lost his wit. There remained with him of his monies about twenty dinars and he used to beg alms of the folk, and whatso they gave him in charity he would gather together and add to the gold pieces that were left him. Now there was in that town a Sharper, who made his living by roguery, and he knew that the Melancholist had somewhat of money; so he fell to spying upon him and ceased not watching him till he saw him put into an earthen pot that which he had with him of silvers and enter a deserted ruin, where he sat down, as if to make water, and dug a hole, wherein he laid the pot and covering it up, smoothed the ground as it had been. Then he went away and the Sharper came and taking what was in the pot, restored it to its former place. Presently ’Ajlan returned, with somewhat to add to his hoard, but found it not; so he bethought him of who had followed him and remembered that he had found that Sharper assiduous in sitting with him and questioning him. So he went in search of him, assured that he had taken the pot, and gave not over looking for him till he saw him sitting; whereupon he ran to him and the Sharper saw him. Then the Melancholist stood within earshot and muttered411 to himself and said, “In the pot are sixty ducats and I have with me other twenty in such a place and to-day I will unite the whole in the pot.” When the Sharper heard him say this to himself, muttering and mumbling, repeating and blundering in his speech, he repented him of having taken the sequins and said, “He will presently return to the pot412 and find it empty; wherefore that for which I am on the look-out will escape me; and meseemeth ’twere best I replace the dinars, so he may see them and leave all which is with him in the pot, and I can take the whole.” Now he feared to return to the pot at once, lest the Melancholist should follow him to the place and find nothing and on this wise his arrangements be marred; so he said to him, “O ’Ajlan,413 I would have thee come to my lodging and eat bread with me.” Thereupon the Melancholist went with him to his quarters and he seated him there and going to the market, sold somewhat of his clothes and pawned somewhat from his house and bought the best of food. Then he betook himself to the ruin and replacing the money in the pot, buried it again; after which he returned to his lodging and gave the Melancholist to eat and drink, and they went out together. The Sharper walked away and hid himself, lest his guest should see him, whilst ’Ajlan repaired to his hiding-place and took the pot. Presently, the Sharper returned to the ruin, rejoicing in that which he deemed he should get, and dug in the place, but found naught and knew that the Melancholist had outwitted him. So he began buffetting his face for regret, and fell to following the other whitherso he went, to the intent that he might win what was with him, but he failed in this, because the Melancholist knew what was in his mind and was assured that he spied upon him; so he kept watch over himself. Now, had the Sharper considered the consequences of haste and that which is begotten of loss therefrom, he had not done on such wise. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this tale, O king of the age, rarer or stranger or daintier than the story of Khalbas414 and his Wife and the learned man and that which befel between the three.” When the king heard this story, he left his purpose of putting the Minister to death and his soul bade him to continue him on life. So he ordered him off to his house.
409 This is a fancy title, but it suits the tale better than that in the text (xi. 183) “The Richard who lost his wealth and his wits.” Mr. Clouston refers to similar stories in Sacchetti and other early Italian novelists.
410 Arab. “Al-Muwaswis”: for “Wiswás” see vol. i. 106. This class of men in stories takes the place of our “cunning idiot,” and is often confounded with the Saudáwi, the melancholist proper.
411 Arab. “Hamhama,” an onomapoeic, like our hum, hem, and haw.
412 Arab. “Barniyah,” a vessel either of glass or pottery like that in which the manna was collected (Exod. xvi. 33).
413 A hasty man, as Ghazbán=an angry man.
414 The Bresl. Edit. misprint. “Khablas” in more places than one, now with a Sín, then with a Sád. Khalbas suggests “Khalbús,” a buffoon, for which see vol. ii. 143. In Egypt, however, the latter generally ends in a Sad (see Lane’s “Khalboos,” M. E. chap. xxvii).
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Minister, and as soon as he presented himself, he required of him the story. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Hear, O august King,
There was once a man called Khalbas, who was a fulsome fellow, a calamity, notorious for this note, and he had a charming wife, renowned for beauty and loveliness. A man of his townsfolk fell in love with her and she also loved him. Now Khalbas was a wily wight and full of guile, and there was in his neighbourhood a learned man, to whom the folk used to resort every day and he told them histories and admonished them with moral instances; and Khalbas was wont to be present in his assembly, for the sake of making a show before the folk. This learned man also had a wife famed for comeliness and seemlihead and quickness of wit and understanding and the lover sought some device whereby he might manage to meet Khalbas’s wife; so he came to him and told him as a secret what he had seen of the learned man’s wife and confided to him that he was in love with her and besought his assistance in this. Khalbas told him that she was known as a model of chastity and continence and that she exposed herself not to ill doubts; but the other said, “I cannot renounce her, in the first place because the woman inclineth to me and coveteth my wealth, and secondly, because of the greatness of my fondness for her; and naught is wanting but thy help.” Quoth Khalbas, “I will do thy will;” and quoth the other, “Thou shalt have of me every day two silvern dirhams, on condition that thou sit with the learned man and that, when he riseth from the assembly, thou speak a word which shall notify to me the breaking up of the meeting.” So they agreed upon that and Khalbas entered and sat in the session, whilst the lover was assured in his heart that the secret was safe and secure with him, wherefore he rejoiced and was content to pay the two dirhams. Then Khalbas used to attend the learned man’s assembly, whilst the other would go in to his wife and be very much with her, on such wise as he thought good, till the learned man arose from his meeting; and when Khalbas saw that he proposed rising, he would speak a word for the lover to hear, whereupon he went forth from the wife of Khalbas who knew not that doom was in his own home. But when the learned man saw Khalbas do the same thing every day, he began to suspect him, especially on account of that which he knew of his bad name, and suspicion grew upon him; so, one day, he resolved to advance the time of his rising ere the wonted hour and hastening up to Khalbas, seized him and said to him, “By Allah, an thou say a single syllable, I will do thee a damage!” Then he went in to his wife, with Khalbas in his grip, and behold, she was sitting, as of her wont, nor was there about her aught of suspicious or unseemly. The learned man bethought him awhile of this, then made for Khalbas’s house, which adjoined his own, still holding his man; and when they entered, they found the young lover lying on the bed with Khalbas’s wife; whereupon quoth the learned man to him, “O accursed, the doom is with thee and in thine own home!” So Khalbas divorced his wife and went forth, fleeing, and returned not to his own land. “This, then” (continued the Wazir), “is the consequence of lewdness, for whoso purposeth in himself wile and perfidious guile, they get possession of him, and had Khalbas conceived of himself that dishonour and calamity which he conceived of the folk, there had betided him nothing of this. Nor is this tale, rare and curious though it be, stranger or rarer than the story of the Devotee whose husband’s brother accused her of lewdness.” When the king heard this, wonderment gat hold of him and his admiration for the Wazir redoubled; so he bade him hie to his home and return to him on the morrow, according to his custom. So the Minister withdrew to his lodging, where he passed the night and the ensuing day.
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Wazir and required of him the story; so he said, “’Tis well. Hear O King,
There was once a man of Níshábúr416 who, having a wife of the uttermost beauty and piety, yet was minded to set out on the pilgrimage. So before leaving home he commended her to the care of his brother and besought him to aid her in her affairs and further her wishes till he should return, for the brothers were on the most intimate terms.417 Then he took ship and departed and his absence was prolonged. Meanwhile, the brother went to visit his brother’s wife, at all times and seasons, and questioned her of her circumstances and went about her wants; and when his calls were prolonged and he heard her speech and saw her face, the love of her gat hold upon his heart and he became passionately fond of her and his soul prompted him to evil. So he besought her to lie with him, but she refused and showed him how foul was his deed, and he found him no way to win what he wished;418 wherefore he wooed her with soft speech and gentle ways. Now she was righteous in all her doings and never swerved from one saying;419 so, when he saw that she consented not to him, he had no doubts but that she would tell his brother, when he returned from his journey, and quoth he to her, “An thou consent not to whatso I require of thee, I will cause a scandal to befal thee and thou wilt perish.” Quoth she, “Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) judge betwixt me and thee, and know that, shouldst thou hew me limb from limb, I would not consent to that thou biddest me to do.” His ignorance420 of womankind persuaded him that she would tell her spouse; so he betook himself of his exceeding despite, to a company of people in the mosque and informed them that he had witnessed a man commit adultery with his brother’s wife. They believed his word and documented his charge and assembled to stone her.421 Then they dug her a pit outside the city and seating her therein, stoned her, till they deemed her dead, when they left her. Presently a Shaykh of a village passed by the pit and finding her alive, carried her to his house and cured her of her wounds. Now he had a youthful son, who, as soon as he saw her, loved her and besought her of her person; but she refused and consented not to him, whereupon he redoubled in love and longing and his case prompted him to suborn a youth of the people of his village and agree with him that he should come by night and take somewhat from his father’s house and that, when he was seized and discovered, he should say that she was his accomplice in this and avouch that she was his mistress and had been stoned on his account in the city. Accordingly he did this, and, coming by night to the villager’s house, stole therefrom goods and clothes; whereupon the owner awoke and seizing the thief, pinioned him straitly and beat him to make him confess; and he confessed against the woman that she was a partner in the crime and that he was her lover from the city. The news was bruited abroad and the citizens assembled to put her to death; but the Shaykh with whom she was forbade them and said, “I brought this woman hither, coveting the recompense of Allah, and I know not the truth of that which is said of her and will not empower any to hurt or harm her.” Then he gave her a thousand dirhams, by way of alms, and thrust her forth of the village. As for the thief, he was imprisoned for some days; after which the folk interceded for him with the old man, saying, “This is a youth and indeed he erred;” and he released him from his bonds. Meanwhile the woman went out at hap-hazard and donning a devotee’s dress, fared on without ceasing, till she came to a city and found the king’s deputies dunning the townsfolk for the tribute, out of season. Presently, she saw a man, whom they were pressing for the tribute; so she asked of his case and being acquainted with it, paid down the thousand dirhams for him and delivered him from the bastinado; whereupon he thanked her and those who were present. When he was set free, he walked with her and besought her to go with him to his dwelling: accordingly, she accompanied him thither and supped with him and passed the night. When the dark hours gloomed on him, his soul prompted him to evil, for that which he saw of her beauty and loveliness, and he lusted after her, and required her of her person; but she rejected him and threatened him with Allah the Most High and reminded him of that which she had done with him of kindness and how she had delivered him from the stick and its disgrace. However, he would not be denied, and when he saw her persistent refusal of herself to him, he feared lest she should tell the folk of him. So, when he arose in the morning, he wrote on a paper what he would of forgery and falsehood and going up to the Sultan’s palace, said, “I have an advisement for the King.” So he bade admit him and he delivered him the writ he had forged, saying, “I found this letter with the woman, the devotee, the ascetic, and indeed she is a spy, a secret informer against the sovran to his foe; and I deem the King’s due more incumbent on me than any other claim and warning him to be the first duty, for that he uniteth in himself all the subjects, and but for the King’s existence, the lieges would perish; wherefore I have brought thee good counsel.” The King gave credit to his words and sent with him those who should lay hands upon the Devotee and do her to death; but they found her not. As for the woman, when the man went out from her, she resolved to depart; so she fared forth, saying to herself, “There is no wayfaring for me in woman’s habit.” Then she donned men’s dress, such as is worn of the pious, and set out and wandered over the earth; nor did she cease wandering till she entered a certain city. Now the king of that city had an only daughter, in whom he gloried and whom he loved, and she saw the Devotee and deeming her a pilgrim youth, said to her father, “I would fain have this youth take up his lodging with me, so I may learn of him lere and piety and religion.” Her father rejoiced in this and commanded the pilgrim to take up his abode with his daughter in his palace. So they were in one place and the Princess was strenuous to the uttermost in continence and chastity and nobility of mind and magnanimity and devotion; but the ignorant tattled anent her and the folk of the realm said, “The king’s daughter loveth the pilgrim youth and he loveth her.” Now the king was a very old man and destiny decreed the ending of his life-term; so he died and when he was buried, the lieges assembled and many were the sayings of the people and of the king’s kinsfolk and officers, and they counselled together to slay the Princess and the young pilgrim, saying, “This fellow dishonoureth us with yonder whore and none accepteth shame save the base.” So they fell upon them and slew the king’s daughter in her mosque, without asking her of aught; whereupon the pious woman (whom they deemed a youth) said to them, “Woe to you, O miscreants! Ye have slain the pious lady.” Quoth they, “O thou fulsome fellow, dost thou bespeak us thus? Thou lovedst her and she loved thee, and we will assuredly slay thee.” And quoth she, “Allah forfend. Indeed, the affair is the clear reverse of this.” They asked, “What proof hast thou of that?” and she answered, “Bring me women.” They did so, and when the matrons looked on her, they found her a woman. As soon as the townsfolk saw this, they repented of that they had done and the affair was grievous to them; so they sought pardon of Allah and said to her, “By the virtue of Him whom thou servest, do thou crave pardon for us.” Said she, “As for me, I may no longer tarry with you and I am about to depart from you.” Then they humbled themselves before her and shed tears and said to her, “We conjure thee, by the might of Allah the Most High, that thou take upon thyself the rule of the realm and of the lieges.” But she refused and drew her back; whereupon they came up to her and wept and ceased not supplicating her, till she consented and undertook the kingship. Her first commandment to them was that they bury the Princess and build over her a dome and she abode in that palace, worshipping the Almighty and dealing judgment between the people with justice, and Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) vouchsafed her, for the excellence of her piety and her patience and renunciation, the acceptance of her prayers, so that she sought not aught of Him (to whom belong Might and Majesty), but He granted her petition; and her fame was bruited abroad in all lands. Accordingly, the folk resorted to her from all parts and she used to pray Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty) for the oppressed and the Lord granted him relief, and against his oppressor, and He brake him asunder; and she prayed for the sick and they were made sound; and in this goodly way she tarried a great space of time. So fared it with the wife; but as for her husband, when he returned from the pilgrimage, his brother and the neighbours acquainted him with the affair of his spouse, whereat he was sore concerned and suspected their story, for that which he knew of her chastity and prayerfulness; and he shed tears for the loss of her. Meanwhile, she prayed to Almighty Allah that He would stablish her innocence in the eyes of her spouse and the folk, and He sent down upon her husband’s brother a sickness so sore that none knew a cure for him. Wherefore he said to his brother, “In such a city is a Devotee, a worshipful woman and a recluse whose prayers are accepted; so do thou carry me to her, that she may pray for my healing and Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty) may give me ease of this disease.” Accordingly, he took him up and journeyed with him, till they came to the village where dwelt the Shaykh, the grey-beard who had rescued the devout woman from the pit and carried her to his dwelling and healed her in his home. Here they halted and lodged with the old man, who questioned the husband of his case and that of his brother and the cause of their journey, and he said, “I purpose to go with my brother, this sick wight, to the holy woman, her whose petitions are answered, so she may pray for him, and Allah may heal him by the blessing of her orisons.” Quoth the villager, “By Allah, my son is in parlous plight for sickness and we have heard that this Devotee prayeth for the sick and they are made sound. Indeed, the folk counsel me to carry him to her, and behold,422 I will go in company with you.” And they said, “’Tis well.” So they all nighted in that intent and on the morrow they set out for the dwelling of the Devotee, this one carrying his son and that one bearing his brother. Now the man who had stolen the clothes and had forged against the pious woman a lie, to wit, that he was her lover, sickened of a sore sickness, and his people took him up and set out with him to visit the Devotee and crave her prayers, and Destiny brought them altogether by the way. So they fared forward in a body till they came to the city wherein the man dwelt for whom she had paid the thousand dirhams to deliver him from torture, and found him about to travel to her by reason of a malady which had betided him. Accordingly, they all journeyed on together, unknowing that the holy woman was she whom they had so foully wronged, and ceased not going till they came to her city and foregathered at the gates of her palace, that wherein was the tomb of the Princess. Now the folk used to go in to her and salute her with the salam, and crave her orisons; and it was her custom to pray for none till he had confessed to her his sins, when she would ask pardon for him and pray for him that he might be healed, and he was straightway made whole of sickness, by permission of Almighty Allah. When the four sick men were brought in to her, she knew them forthright, though they knew her not, and said to them “Let each of you confess and specify his sins, so I may sue pardon for him and pray for him.” And the brother said, “As for me, I required my brother’s wife of her person and she refused; whereupon despite and ignorance prompted me and I lied against her and accused her to the townsfolk of adultery; so they stoned her and slew her wrongously and unrighteously; and this my complaint is the issue of unright and falsehood and of the slaying of the innocent soul, whose slaughter Allah hath made unlawful to man.” Then said the youth, the old villager’s son, “And I, O holy woman, my father brought to us a woman who had been stoned, and my people nursed her till she recovered. Now she was rare of beauty and loveliness; so I required of her her person; but she refused and clave in chastity to Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty), wherefore ignorance prompted me, so that I agreed with one of the youths that he should steal clothes and coin from my father’s house. Then I laid hands on him and carried him to my sire and made him confess. He declared that the woman was his mistress from the city and had been stoned on his account and that she was his accomplice in the theft and had opened the doors to him; but this was a lie against her, for that she had not yielded to me in that which I sought of her. So there befel me what ye see of requital.” And the young man, the thief, said, “I am he with whom thou agreedst concerning the theft, and to whom thou openedst the door, and I am he who accused her falsely and calumniously and Allah (extolled be He!) well knoweth that I never did evil with her; no, nor knew her in any way before that time.” Then said he whom she had delivered from torture by paying down a thousand dirhams and who had required of her her person in his house, for that her beauty pleased him, and when she refused had forged a letter against her and treacherously denounced her to the Sultan and requited her graciousness with ingratitude, “I am he who wronged her and lied against her, and this is the issue of the oppressor’s affair.” When she heard their words, in the presence of the folk, she cried, “Alhamdolillah, praise be to Allah, the King who over all things is omnipotent, and blessing upon His prophets and apostles!” Then quoth she to the assembly, “Bear testimony, O ye here present, to these men’s speech, and know ye I am that woman whom they confess to having wronged.” And she turned to her husband’s brother and said to him, “I am thy brother’s wife and Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) delivered me from that whereinto thou castedst me of calumny and suspicion, and from the folly and frowardness whereof thou hast spoken, and now hath He shown forth my innocence, of His bounty and generosity. Go, for thou art quit of the wrong thou didst me.” Then she prayed for him and he was made sound of his sickness. Thereupon she said to the son of the village Shaykh, “Know that I am the woman whom thy father delivered from strain and stress and whom there betided from thee of calumny and ignorance that which thou hast named.” And she sued pardon for him and he was made sound of his sickness. Then said she to the thief, “I am the woman against whom thou liedst, avouching that I was thy leman who had been stoned on thine account, and that I was thine accomplice in robbing the house of the village Shaykh and had opened the doors to thee.” And she prayed for him and he was made whole of his malady.423 Then said she to the townsman, him of the tribute, “I am the woman who gave thee the thousand dirhams and thou didst with me what thou didst.” And she asked pardon for him and prayed for him and he was made whole; whereupon the folk marvelled at her enemies who had all been afflicted alike, so Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) might show forth her innocence upon the heads of witnesses.424 Then she turned to the old man who had delivered her from the pit and prayed for him and gave him presents manifold and among them a myriad, a Badrah;425 and the sick made whole departed from her. When she was alone with her husband, she made him draw near unto her and rejoiced in his arrival, and gave him the choice of abiding with her. Presently, she assembled the citizens and notified to them his virtue and worth and counselled them to invest him with management of their rule and besought them to make him king over them. They consented to her on this and he became king and made his home amongst them, whilst she gave herself up to her orisons and cohabited with her husband as she was with him aforetime. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this tale, O king of the time, stranger or pleasanter than that of the Hireling and the Girl whose maw he slit and fled.” When King Shah Bakht heard this, he said, “Most like all they say of the Minister is leasing, and his innocence will be made manifest even as that of the Devotee was manifested.” Then he comforted the Wazir’s heart and bade him hie to his house.
415 This story is a rechauffé of the Jewish Kazi and his pious wife; see vol. v. 256.
416 The Arab form of “Nayshápúr”=reeds of (King) Shapúr: see vol. ix. 230.
417 Arab. “Alà Tarík al-Satr wa al-Salámah,” meaning that each other’s wives did not veil before their brothers-in-law as is usually done. It may also mean that they were under Allah’s protection and in best of condition.
418 i.e. he dared not rape her.
419 i.e. her “yes” meant “yes” and her “no” meant “no.”
420 “Ignorance” (Jahl) may, here and elsewhere, mean wickedness, forwardness, folly, vicious folly or uncalled-for wrath. Here Arabic teaches a good lesson, for ignorance, intemperance and egoism are, I repeat, the roots of all evil.
421 So Mohammed said of a child born in adultery “The babe to the blanket (i.e. let it be nursed and reared) and the adultress to the stone.”
422 Arab. “Wa há,” etc., an interjection corresponding with the Syriac “ho” lo! (i.e., look) behold! etc.
423 This paragraph is supplied by Mr. Payne: something of the kind has evidently fallen out of the Arab text.
424 i.e. in the presence of witnesses, legally.
425 Lit. a myriad, ten thousand dirhams. See vol. iv. 281.
When the evening evened, the King bade fetch the Wazir and sought of him the story of the Hireling and the Girl. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O auspicious King, to
There was once, of old time, in one of the tribes of the Arabs, a woman pregnant by her husband, and they had a hired servant, a man of insight and understanding. When the woman came to her delivery-time, she gave birth to a girl-child in the night and they sought fire of the neighbours.426 So the Hireling went in quest of fire. Now there was in the camp a Divineress,427 and she questioned him of the new-born child, an it was male or female. Quoth he, “’Tis a girl;” and quoth she, “That girl will whore with an hundred men and a hireling shall wed her and a spider shall slay her.” When the hired man heard this, he returned upon his steps and going in to the woman, took the child from her by wily management and slit its maw: then he fled forth into the wold at hap-hazard and abode in strangerhood while Allah so willed.428 He gained much money; and, returning to his own land, after twenty years’ absence, alighted in the neighbourhood of an old woman, whom he wheedled and treated with liberality, requiring of her a young person whom he might enjoy without marriage. Said she, “I know none but a certain fair woman, who is renowned for this industry.” Then she described her charms to him and made him lust after her, and he said, “Hasten to her this minute and lavish upon her whatso she asketh.” So the crone betook herself to the girl and discovered his wishes to her and invited her to him; but she answered, “’Tis true that I was in the habit of whoredom, but now I have repented to Almighty Allah and have no more longing to this: nay, I desire lawful wedlock; so, if he be content with that which is legal, I am between his hands.”429 The old woman returned to the man and told him what the damsel said; and he lusted after her, because of her beauty and her penitence; so he took her to wife, and when he went in to her, he loved her and after like fashion she loved him. Thus they abode a great while, till one day he questioned her of the cause of a scar430 he espied on her body, and she said, “I wot naught thereof save that my mother told me a marvellous thing concerning it.” Asked he, “What was that?” and she answered, “My mother declared that she gave birth to me one night of the wintry nights and despatched a hired man, who was with us, in quest of fire for her. He was absent a little while and presently returning, took me and slit my maw and fled. When my mother saw this, chagrin seized her and compassion possessed her; so she sewed up my stomach and nursed me till the wound healed by the ordinance of Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty).” When her husband heard this, he said to her, “What is thy name and what may be the name of thy mother and who may be thy father?” She told him their names and her own, whereby he knew that it was she whose maw he had slit and said to her, “And where are thy father and mother?” “They are both dead.” “I am that Hireling who slit thy stomach.” “Why didst thou that?” “Because of a saying I heard from the wise woman.” “What was it?” “She declared thou wouldst play the whore with an hundred men and that I after that should wed thee.” “Ay, I have whored with an hundred men, no more and no less, and behold, thou hast married me.” “The Divineress also foresaid that thou shouldst die, at the last of thy life, of the bite of a spider. Indeed, her saying hath been verified of the fornication and the marriage, and I fear lest her word come true no less in the death.” Then they betook themselves to a place without the city, where he builded him a mansion of solid stone and white stucco and stopped its inner walls and plastered them; leaving not therein or cranny or crevice, and he set in it two slavegirls whose services were sweeping and wiping, for fear of spiders. Here he abode with his wife a great while, till one day the man espied a spider on the ceiling and beat it down. When his wife saw it, she said, “This is that which the wise woman foresaid would slay me; so, by thy life, suffer me to kill it with mine own hand.” Her husband forbade her from this, but she conjured him to let her destroy the spider; then, of her fearfulness and her eagerness, she took a piece of wood and smote it. The wood brake of the force of the blow, and a splinter from it entered her hand and wrought upon it, so that it swelled. Then her fore-arm also swelled and the swelling spread to her side and thence grew till it reached her heart and she died. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this stranger or more wondrous than the story of the Weaver who became a Leach by commandment of his wife.” When the King heard this, his admiration redoubled and he said, “In very truth, Destiny is written to all creatures, and I will not accept aught that is said against my Minister the loyal counsellor.” And he bade him hie to his home.
426 The fire was intended to defend the mother and babe from Jinns, bad spirits, the evil eye, etc. Romans lit candles in the room of the puerpara; hence the goddess Candelifera, and the term Candelaria applied to the B.V. In Brand’s Popular Antiquities (ii. 144) we find, “Gregory mentions an ordinary superstition of the old wives who dare not trust a child in a cradle by itself alone without a candle;” this was for fear of the “night-hag” (Milton, P. L., ii. 662). The same idea prevailed in Scotland and in Germany: see the learned Liebrecht (who translated the Pentamerone) “Zur Folkskunde,” p. 31. In Sweden if the candle go out, the child may be carried off by the Trolls (Weckenstedt, Wendische Sagen, p. 446). The custom has been traced to the Malay peninsula, whither it was probably imported by the Hindus or the Moslems, and amongst the Tajiks in Bokhara. For the Hindu practice, see Katha S. S. 305, and Prof. Tawney’s learned note analysed above.
427 Arab. “Káhinah,” fem. of Káhin (Cohen): see Kahánah, vol. i. 28.
428 i.e. for a long time, as has been before explained.
429 i.e. at his service. Arabia was well provided with Hetairæ and public women long before the days of Al-Islam.
430 Arab. “Athar”=sign, mark, trail.
When the evening evened, the King bade summon his Minister and he presented himself before him, whereupon he required of him the hearing of the story. So the Wazir said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O King, to
There was once, in the land of Fars,431 a man who wedded a woman higher than himself in rank and nobler of lineage, but she had no guardian to preserve her from want. She loathed to marry one who was beneath her; yet she wived with him because of need, and took of him a bond in writing to the effect that he would ever be under her order to bid and forbid and would never thwart her in word or in deed. Now the man was a Weaver and he bound himself in writing to pay his wife ten thousand dirhams in case of default. Atfer such fashion they abode a long while till one day the wife went out to fetch water, of which she had need, and saw a leach who had spread a carpet hard by the road, whereon he had set out great store of simples432 and implements of medicine and he was speaking and muttering charms, whilst the folk flocked to him from all quarters and girt him about on every side. The Weaver’s wife marvelled at the largeness of the physician’s fortune433 and said in herself, “Were my husband thus, he would lead an easy life and that wherein we are of straitness and poverty would be widened to him.” Then she returned home, cark-full and care-full, and when her husband saw her in this condition, he questioned her of her case and she said to him, “Verily, my breast is harrowed by reason of thee and of the very goodness of thine intent,” presently adding, “Narrow means suit me not and thou in thy present craft gainest naught; so either do thou seek out a business other than this or pay me my rightful due434 and let me wend my ways.” Her husband chid her for this and advised her to take patience; but she would not be turned from her design and said to him, “Go forth and watch yonder physician how he doth and learn from him what he saith.” Said he, “Let not thy heart be troubled,” and added, “I will go every day to the session of the leach.” So he began resorting daily to the physician and committing to memory his answers and that which he spoke of jargon,435 till he had gotten a great matter by rote, and all this he learned and thoroughly digested it. Then he returned to his wife and said to her, “I have stored up the physician’s sayings in memory and have mastered his manner of muttering and diagnoses and prescribing remedies and I wot by heart the names of the medicines436 and of all the diseases, and there abideth of thy bidding naught undone: so what dost thou command me now to do?” Quoth she, “Leave the loom and open thyself a leach’s shop;” but quoth he, “My fellow-townsmen know me and this affair will not profit me, save in a land of strangerhood; so come, let us go out from this city and get us to a foreign land and there live.” And she said, “Do whatso thou willest.” Accordingly, he arose and taking his weaving gear, sold it and bought with the price drugs and simples and wrought himself a carpet, with which they set out and journeyed to a certain village, where they took up their abode. Then the man fell to going round about the hamlets and villages and outskirts of towns, after donning leach’s dress; and he began to earn his livelihood and make much gain. Their affairs prospered and their circumstances were bettered; wherefore they praised Allah for their present ease and the village became to them a home. In this way he lived for a long time, but at length he wandered anew,437 and the days and the nights ceased not to transport him from country to country, till he came to the land of the Roum and lighted down in a city of the cities thereof, wherein was Jálinús438 the Sage; but the Weaver knew him not, nor was aware who he was. So he fared forth, as was his wont, in quest of a place where the folk might be gathered together, and hired the courtyard439 of Jalinus. There he spread his carpet and setting out on it his simples and instruments of medicine, praised himself and his skill and claimed a cleverness such as none but he might claim.440 Jalinus heard that which he affirmed of his understanding and it was certified unto him and established in his mind that the man was a skilled leach of the leaches of the Persians and he said in himself, “Unless he had confidence in his knowledge and were minded to confront me and contend with me, he had not sought the door of my house neither had he spoken that which he hath spoken.” And care and doubt gat hold upon Jalinus: so he drew near the Weaver and addressed himself to see how his doings should end, whilst the folk began to flock to him and describe to him their ailments,441 and he would answer them thereof, hitting the mark one while and missing it another while, so that naught appeared to Jalinus of his fashion whereby his mind might be assured that he had justly estimated his skill. Presently, up came a woman with a urinal,442 and when the Weaver saw the phial afar off, he said to her, “This is the water of a man, a stranger.” Said she, “Yes;” and he continued, “Is he not a Jew and is not his ailment flatulence?” “Yes,” replied the woman, and the folk marvelled at this; wherefore the man was magnified in the eyes of Jalinus, for that he heard speech such as was not of the usage of doctors, seeing that they know not urine but by shaking it and looking straitly thereon, neither wot they a man’s water from a woman’s water, nor a stranger’s from a countryman’s, nor a Jew’s from a Sharif’s.443 Then the woman asked, “What is the remedy?” and the Weaver answered, “Bring the honorarium.”444 So she paid him a dirham and he gave her medicines contrary to that ailment and such as would only aggravate the complaint. When Jalinus saw what appeared to him of the man’s incapacity, he turned to his disciples and pupils and bade them fetch the mock doctor, with all his gear and drugs. Accordingly they brought him into his presence without stay or delay, and when Jalinus saw him before him, he asked him, “Knowest thou me?” and the other answered, “No, nor did I ever set eyes on thee before this day.” Quoth the Sage, “Dost thou know Jalinus?” and quoth the Weaver, “No.” Then said Jalinus, “What drave thee to do that which thou dost?” So he acquainted him with his adventure, especially with the dowry and the obligation by which he was bound with regard to his wife whereat the Sage marvelled and certified himself anent the matter of the marriage-settlement. Then he bade lodge him near himself and entreated him with kindness and took him apart and said to him, “Expound to me the story of the urine-phial and whence thou knewest that the water therein was that of a man, and he a stranger and a Jew, and that his ailment was flatulence?” The Weaver replied, “’Tis well. Thou must know that we people of Persia are skilled in physiognomy,445 and I saw the woman to be rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed and tall-statured. Now these qualities belong to women who are enamoured of a man and are distracted for love of him;446 moreover, I saw her burning with anxiety; so I knew that the patient was her husband.447 As for his strangerhood, I noted that the dress of the woman differed from that of the townsfolk, wherefore I knew that she was a foreigner; and in the mouth of the phial I saw a yellow rag,448 which garred me wot that the sick man was a Jew and she a Jewess. Moreover, she came to me on first day;449 and ’tis the Jews’ custom to take meat puddings450 and food that hath passed the night451 and eat them on the Saturday their Sabbath, hot and cold, and they exceed in eating; wherefore flatulence and indigestion betide them. Thus I was directed and guessed that which thou hast heard.” Now when Jalinus heard this, he ordered the Weaver the amount of his wife’s dowry and bade him pay it to her and said to him, “Divorce her.” Furthermore, he forbade him from returning to the practice of physic and warned him never again to take to wife a woman of rank higher than his own; and he gave him his spending money and charged him return to his proper craft. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this tale stranger or rarer than the story of the Two Sharpers who each cozened his Compeer.” When King Shah Bakht heard this, he said to himself, “How like is this story to my present case with this Minister, who hath not his like!” Then he bade him hie to his own house and come again at eventide.
431 i.e. Persia. See vol. v. 26.
432 Arab. “’Akákír” plur. of ’Akkár prop.=aromatic roots; but applied to vulgar drugs or simples, as in the Tale of the Sage Duban, i. 46.
433 Arab. “Si’at rizki-h” i.e., the ease with which he earned his copious livelihood.
434 i.e. the ten thousand dirhams of the bond, beside the unpaid and contingent portion of her “Mahr” or marriage-settlement.
435 Arab. “Al-Házúr” from Hazr=loquacity, frivolous garrulity. Every craft in the East has a jargon of its own and the goldsmith (Zargar) is famed for speaking a language made unintelligible by the constant insertion of a letter or letters not belonging to the word. It is as if we rapidly pronounced How d’ye do=Howth doth yeth doth?
436 Arab. “Asmá al-Adwiyah,” such as are contained in volumes like the “Alfáz al-Adwi-yah” (Nomenclature of Drugs).
437 I am compelled to insert a line in order to make sense.
438 “Galen,” who is considered by Moslems as a kind of pre-Islamitic Saint; and whom Rabelais (iii. c. 7) calls Le gentil Falot Galen, is explained by Eustathius as the Serene ‘“80<‘H from (g8VT=rideo.
439 Arab. “Sáhah” the clear space before the house as opposed to the “Bathah” (Span. Patio) the inner court.
440 A naïve description of the naïve style of réclame adopted by the Eastern Bob Sawyer.
441 Which they habitually do, by the by, with an immense amount of unpleasant detail. See Pilgrimage i. 18.
442 The old French name for the phial or bottle in which the patient’s water is sent.
443 A descendant from Mohammed, strictly through his grandson Husayn. See vol. iv. 170.
444 Arab. “Al-Futúh” lit. the victories; a euphemistic term for what is submitted to the “musculus guineaorum.”
445 Arab. “Firásah” lit. judging the points of a mare (faras). Of physiognomy, or rather judging by externals, curious tales are told by the Arabs. In Al-Mas’udi’s (chapt. lvi.) is the original of the camel blind of one eye, etc., which the genius of Voltaire has made famous throughout Europe.
446 I here quote Mr. Payne’s note. “Sic in the text; but the passage is apparently corrupt. It is not plain why a rosy complexion, blue eyes and tallness should be peculiar to women in love. Arab women being commonly short, swarthy and blackeyed, the attributes mentioned appear rather to denote the foreign origin of the woman; and it is probable, therefore, that this passage has by a copyist’s error, been mixed up with that which relates to the signs by which the mock physician recognised her strangerhood, the clause specifying the symptoms of her love-lorn condition having been crowded out in the process, an accident of no infrequent occurrence in the transcription of Oriental works.”
447 Most men would have suspected that it was her lover.
448 The sumptuary laws, compelling for instance the Jews to wear yellow turbans, and the Christians to carry girdles date from the Capture of Jerusalem in A.D. 636 by Caliph Omar. See vol. i. 77; and Terminal Essay § 11.
449 i.e. Our Sunday: the Jewish week ending with the Sabbath (Saturday). I have already noted this term for Saturn’s day, established as a God’s rest by Commandment No. iv. How it lost its honours amongst Christians none can say: the text in Col. ii. 16, 17, is insufficient to abolish an order given with such pomp and circumstance to, and obeyed, so strictly and universally by, the Hebrews, including the Founder of Christianity. The general idea is that the Jewish Sabbath was done away with by the Christian dispensation (although Jesus kept it with the usual scrupulous care), and that sundry of the Councils at Colossæ and Laodicea anathematised those who observed the Saturday after Israelitish fashion. With the day its object changed; instead of “keeping it holy,” as all pious Jews still do, the early Fathers converted it into the “Feast of the Resurrection,” which could not be kept too joyously. The “Sabbatismus” of the Sabbatarian Protestant who keeps holy the wrong day is a marvellous perversion and the Sunday feast of France, Italy, and Catholic countries generally is far more logical than the mortification day of England and the so-called Reformed countries.
450 Haráis, plur. of Harísah: see vol. i. 131.
451 It would have been cooked on our Thursday night, or the Jewish Friday night and would be stale and indigestible on the next day.
Whenas nighted the night, the Wazir presented himself before the King, who bade him relate the promised story. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O king, to
There was once, in the city of Baghdad, a man hight Al-Marwazí,452 who was a sharper and ruined the folk with his rogueries and he was renowned in all quarters for knavery. He went out one day, carrying a load of sheep’s droppings, and sware to himself that he would not return to his lodging till he had sold it at the price of raisins. Now there was in another city a second sharper, hight Al-Rází,453 one of its worst, who went out the same day, bearing a load of goat’s droppings,454 anent which he had sworn to himself that he would not sell it but at the price of sundried figs. So the twain fared on with that which was by them and ceased not going till they met in one of the khans455 and one complained to other of what he had suffered on travel in quest of gain and of the little demand for his wares. Now each of them had it in mind to cheat his fellow; so the man of Marw said to the man of Rayy, “Wilt thou sell me that?” He said, “Yes,” and the other continued, “And wilt thou buy that which is with me?” The man of Rayy consented; so they agreed upon this and each of them sold to his mate that which was with him in exchange for the other’s; after which they bade farewell and both fared forth. As soon as the twain were out of sight, they examined their loads, to see what was therein, and one of them found that he had a load of sheep’s droppings and the other that he had a load of goat’s droppings; whereupon each of them turned back in quest of his fellow. They met again in the khan and laughing at each other cancelled their bargain; then they agreed to enter into partnership and that all they had of money and other good should be in common, share and share alike. Then quoth Al-Razi to Al-Marwazi, “Come with me to my city, for that ’tis nearer than thine.” So he went with him, and when he arrived at his quarters, he said to his wife and household and neighbours, “This is my brother, who hath been absent in the land of Khorasan and is come back.” And he abode with him in all honour for a space of three days. On the fourth day, Al-Razi said to him, “Know, O my brother, that I purpose to do something.” The other asked, “What is it?” and the first answered, “I mean to feign myself dead and do thou go to the bazar and hire two porters and a bier. Then take me up and go about the streets and markets with my body and collect alms on my account.”456 Accordingly the Marw man repaired to the market and, fetching that which he sought, returned to the Rayy man’s house, where he found his fellow cast down in the entrancepassage, with his beard tied and his eyes shut, and his complexion was paled and his belly was blown and his limbs were loose. So he deemed him really dead and shook him but he spoke not; then he took a knife and pricked his feet, but he budged not. Presently said Al-Razi, “What is this, O fool?” and said Al-Marwazi, “I deemed thou wast dead in very deed.” Al-Razi cried, “Get thee to business, and leave funning.” So he took him up and went with him to the market and collected alms for him that day till eventide, when he bore him back to his abode and waited till the morrow. Next morning, he again took up the bier and walked round with it as before, in quest of charity. Presently, the Chief of Police, who was of those who had given him alms on the previous day, met him; so he was angered and fell on the porters and beat them and took the dead body, saying, “I will bury him and win reward in Heaven.”457 So his followers took him up and carrying him to the Police-officer, fetched gravediggers, who dug him a grave. Then they brought him a shroud and perfumes458 and fetched an old man of the quarter, to wash him: so the Shaykh recited over him the appointed prayers459 and laying him on the bench, washed him and shrouded him. After he had been shrouded he skited;460 so the grey-beard renewed the washing and went away to make the Wuzu-ablution, whilst all the folk departed to do likewise, before the orisons of the funeral. When the dead man found himself alone, he sprang up, as he were a Satan; and, donning the corpse-washer’s dress,461 took the cups and water-can462 and wrapped them up in the napkins; then he clapped his shroud under his armpit and went out. The doorkeepers thought that he was the washer and asked him, “Hast thou made an end of the washing, so we may acquaint the Emir?” The sharper answered “Yes,” and made off to his abode, where he found the Marw man a-wooing his wife and saying to her, “By thy life, thou wilt never again look upon his face for the best reason that by this time he is buried: I myself escaped not from them but after toil and trouble, and if he speak, they will do him to death.” Quoth she, “And what wouldst thou have of me?” and quoth he, “Satisfy my desire and heal my disorder, for I am better than thy husband.” And he began toying with her as a prelude to possession. Now when the Rayy man heard this, he said, “Yonder wittol-pimp lusteth after my wife; but I will at once do him a damage.” Then he rushed in upon them, and when Al-Marwazi saw him, he wondered at him and said to him, “How didst thou make thine escape?” Accordingly he told him the trick he had played and they abode talking of that which they had collected from the folk, and indeed they had gotten great store of money. Then said the man of Marw, “In very sooth, mine absence hath been prolonged and lief would I return to my own land.” Al-Razi said, “As thou willest;” and the other rejoined, “Let us divide the monies we have made and do thou go with me to my home, so I may show thee my tricks and my works.” Replied the man of Rayy, “Come to-morrow, and we will divide the coin.” So the Marw man went away and the other turned to his wife and said to her, “We have collected us great plenty of money, and the dog would fain take the half of it; but such thing shall never be, for my mind hath been changed against him, since I heard him making love to thee; now, therefore, I propose to play him a trick and enjoy all the money; and do thou not oppose me.” She replied, “’Tis well;” and he said to her, “To-morrow, at peep o’ day I will feign myself dead, and do thou cry aloud and tear thy hair, whereupon the folk will flock to me. Then lay me out and bury me; and, when the folk are gone away from the grave, dig down to me and take me; and fear not for me, as I can abide without harm two days in the tomb-niche.”463 Whereto she made answer, “Do e’en whatso thou wilt.” Accordingly, when it was the dawn-hour, she bound his beard and spreading a veil over him, shrieked aloud, whereupon the people of the quarter flocked to her, men and women. Presently, up came AlMarwazi, for the division of the money, and hearing the keening asked, “What may be the news?” Quoth they, “Thy brother is dead;” and quoth he in himself, “The accursed fellow cozeneth me, so he may get all the coin for himself, but I will presently do with him what shall soon requicken him.” Then he tare the bosom of his robe and bared his head, weeping and saying, “Alas, my brother, ah! Alas, my chief, ah! Alas, my lord, ah!” Then he went in to the men, who rose and condoled with him. Then he accosted the Rayy man’s wife and said to her, “How came his death to occur?” Said she, “I know nothing except that, when I arose in the morning, I found him dead.” Moreover, he questioned her of the money which was with her, but she cried, “I have no knowledge of this and no tidings.” So he sat down at his fellow-sharper’s head, and said to him, “Know, O Razi, that I will not leave thee till after ten days with their nights, wherein I will wake and sleep by thy grave. So rise and don’t be a fool.” But he answered him not, and the man of Marw drew his knife and fell to sticking it into the other’s hands and feet, purposing to make him move; but he stirred not and he presently grew weary of this and determined that the sharper was really dead. However, he still had his suspicions and said to himself, “This fellow is falsing me, so he may enjoy all the money.” Therewith he began to prepare the body for burial and bought for it perfumes and whatso was needed. Then they brought him to the washing-place and Al-Marwazi came to him; and, heating water till it boiled and bubbled and a third of it was evaporated, fell to pouring it on his skin, so that it turned bright red and lively blue and was blistered; but he abode still on one case.464 Presently they wrapped him in the shroud and set him on the bier, which they took up and bearing him to the burial-place, placed him in the grave-niche and filled in the earth; after which the folk dispersed. But the Marw man and the widow abode by the tomb, weeping, and ceased not sitting till sundown, when the woman said to him, “Come, let us hie us home, for this weeping will not profit us, nor will it restore the dead.” He replied to her, “By Allah, I will not budge hence till I have slept and waked by this tomb ten days with their nights!” When she heard this his speech, she feared lest he should keep his word and his oath, and so her husband perish; but she said in her mind, “This one dissembleth: an I leave him and return to my house, he will tarry by him a little while and go away.” And Al-Marwazi said to her, “Arise, thou, and hie thee home.” So she arose and repaired to her house, whilst the man of Marw abode in his place till the night was half spent, when he said to himself, “How long? Yet how can I let this knavish dog die and lose the money? Better I open the tomb on him and bring him forth and take my due of him by dint of grievous beating and torment.” Accordingly, he dug him up and pulled him forth of the grave; after which he betook himself to a garden hard by the burial-ground and cut thence staves and palmfronds.465 Then he tied the dead man’s legs and laid on to him with the staff and beat him a grievous beating; but the body never budged. When the time grew longsome on him, his shoulders became a-weary and he feared lest some one of the watch passing on his round should surprise and seize him. So he took up Al-Razi and carrying him forth of the cemetery, stayed not till he came to the Magians’ mortuary place and casting him down in a Tower of Silence,466 rained heavy blows upon him till his shoulders failed him, but the other stirred not. Then he seated him by his side and rested; after which he rose and renewed the beating upon him; and thus he did till the end of the night, but without making him move. Now, as Destiny decreed, a band of robbers whose wont it was, when they had stolen any, thing, to resort to that place and there divide their loot, came thither in early-dawn, according to their custom; they numbered ten and they had with them much wealth which they were carrying. When they approached the Tower of Silence, they heard a noise of blows within it and their captain cried, “This is a Magian whom the Angels467 are tormenting.” So they entered the cemetery and as soon as they arrived over against him, the man of Marw feared lest they should be the watchmen come upon him, therefore he fled and stood among the tombs.468 The robbers advanced to the place and finding a man of Rayy bound by the feet and by him some seventy sticks, wondered at this with exceeding wonder and said, “Allah confound thee! This was a miscreant, a man of many crimes; for earth hath rejected him from her womb, and by my life, he is yet fresh! This is his first night in the tomb and the Angels were tormenting him but now; so whoso of you hath a sin upon his soul, let him beat him, by way of offering to Almighty Allah.” The robbers said, “We be sinners one and all;” so each of them went up to the corpse and dealt it about an hundred blows, one saying the while, “This is for my father!”469 and another laid on to him crying, “This is for my grandfather!” whilst a third muttered, “This is for my brother!” and a fourth exclaimed, “This is for my mother!” And they gave not over taking turns at him and beating him till they were weary, whilst Al-Marwazi stood laughing and saying in self, “’Tis not I alone who have entered into default against him. There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”470 Then the robbers applied themselves to sharing their loot wherein was a sword which caused them to fall out anent the man who should take it. Quoth the Captain, “’Tis my rede that we make proof of it; so, an it be a fine blade, we shall know its worth, and if it be worthless we shall know that;” whereto they said, “Try it on this corpse, for it is fresh.” So the Captain took the sword, and drawing it, brandished and made a false cut with it; but, when the man of Rayy saw this, he felt sure of death and said in his mind, “I have borne the washing-slab and the boiling water and the pricking with the knife-point and the grave-niche and its straitness and all this, trusting in Allah that I might be delivered from death, and indeed I have been delivered; but the sword I may not suffer seeing that one stroke of it will make me a dead man.” So saying, he sprang to his feet and seizing a thigh-bone of one departed, shouted at the top of his voice, “O ye dead ones, take them to yourselves!” And he smote one of them, whilst his mate of Marw smote another and they cried out at them and buffeted them on their neck-napes: whereupon the robbers left that which was with them of loot and ran away; and indeed their wits took flight for terror and they ceased not running till they came forth of the Magians’ mortuary-ground and left it a parasang’s length behind them, when they halted, trembling and affrighted for the muchness of that which had befallen them of fear and awe of the dead.471 As for Al-Razi and AlMarwazi, they made peace each with other and sat down to share the spoil. Quoth the man of Marw, “I will not give thee a dirham of this money, till thou pay me my due of the monies that be in thy house.” And quoth the man of Rayy, “I will do naught of the kind,472 nor will I withdraw this from aught of my due.” So they fell out thereupon and disputed each with other and either of the twain went saying to his fellow, “I will not give thee a dirham!” Wherefore words ran high between them and the brawl was prolonged. Meanwhile, when the robbers halted, one of them said to the others, “Let us go back and see;” and the Captain said, “This thing is impossible of the dead: never heard we that they came to life in such way. Return we and take our monies, for that the dead have no need of money.” And they were divided in opinion as to returning: but presently one said, “Indeed, our weapons are gone and we may not prevail against them and will not draw near the place: only let one of us go look at it, and if he hear no sound of them, let him suggest to us what we shall do.” At this they agreed that they should send a man of them and assigned him for such mission two parts of the plunder. Accordingly he returned to the burial-ground and gave not over going till he stood at the door of the Tower of Silence, when he heard the words of Al-Marwazi to his fellow, “I will not give thee a single dirham of the money!” The other said the same and they were occupied with brawling and abuse and talk. So the robber returned in haste to his mates, who said, “What is behind thee?”473 Quoth he, “Get you gone and run for your lives, O fools, and save yourselves: much people of the dead are come to life and between them are words and brawls.” Hereat the robbers fled, whilst the two sharpers returned to the man of Rayy’s house and made peace and added the robbers’ spoil to the monies they had gained and lived a length of time. “Nor, O king of the age” (continued the Wazir), “is this stranger or rarer than the story of the Four Sharpers with the Shroff and the Ass.” When the king heard this story, he smiled and it pleased him and he bade the Minister to his own house.
452 Marw (Margiana), which the Turkomans pronounce “Mawr,” is derived by Bournouf from the Sansk. Maru or Marw; and by Sir H. Rawlinson from Marz or Marj, the Lat. Margo; Germ. Mark; English March; Old French Marche and Neo-Lat. Marca. So Marzbán, a Warden of the Marches: vol. iii. 256. The adj. is not Marází, as stated in vol. iii. 222; but Marwazi, for which see Ibn Khallikan, vol. i. p. 7, etc.: yet there are good writers who use “Marází” as Rází for a native of Rayy.
453 i.e. native of Rayy city. See vol. iv. 104.
454 Normally used for fuel and at times by funny men to be put into sweetmeats by way of practical joke: these are called “Nukl-i-Pishkil”=goat-dung bonbons. The tale will remind old Anglo-Indians of the two Bengal officers who were great at such “sells” and who “swopped” a spavined horse for a broken-down “buggy.”
455 In the text “khanádik,” ditches, trenches; probably (as Mr. Payne suggests) a clerical or typographical error for “Fanádik,” inns or caravanserais; the plural of “Funduk” (Span. Fonda), for which see vol. viii. 184.
456 This sentence is supplied by Mr. Payne to remedy the incoherence of the text. Moslems are bound to see True Believers decently buried and the poor often beg alms for the funeral. Here the tale resembles the opening of Hajji Baba by Mr. Morier, that admirable picture of Persian manners and morals.
457 Arab. “Al-ajr” which has often occurred.
458 Arab. “Hanút,” i.e., leaves of the lotus-tree to be infused as a wash for the corpse; camphor used with cotton to close the mouth and other orifices; and, in the case of a wealthy man, rose-water, musk, ambergris, sandal-wood, and lignaloes for fumigation.
459 Which always begin with four “Takbírs” and differ in many points from the usual orisons. See Lane (M. E. chapt. xxviii.) who is, however, very superficial upon an intricate and interesting subject. He even neglects to mention the number of Ruk’át (bows) usual at Cairo and the absence of prostration (sujúd) for which see vol. ii. 10.
460 Thus requiring all the ablutional offices to be repeated. The Shaykh, by handling the corpse, became ceremonially impure and required “Wuzu” before he could pray either at home or in the Mosque.
461 The Shaykh had left it when he went out to perform Wuzu.
462 Arab. “Satl”=the Lat. and Etruscan “Situla” and “Situlus,” a water-pot.
463 Arab. “Lahd, Luhd,” the niche or cell hollowed out in the side of the oblong trench: here the corpse is deposited and covered with palm-fronds etc. to prevent the earth touching it. See my Pilgrimage ii. 304.
464 For the incredible amount of torture which Eastern obstinacy will sometimes endure, see Al-Mas’udi’s tale of the miserable little old man who stole the ten purses, vol. viii. 153 et seq.
465 Arab. “Jarídah” (whence the Jaríd-game) a palm-frond stripped of its leaves and used for a host of purposes besides flogging, chairs, sofas, bedsteads, cages, etc. etc. Tales of heroism in “eating stick” are always highly relished by the lower orders of Egyptians who pride themselves upon preferring the severest bastinado to paying the smallest amount of “rint.”
466 Arab. “Náwús,” the hollow tower of masonry with a grating over the central well upon which the Magian corpse is placed to be torn by birds of prey: it is kept up by the Parsi population of Bombay and is known to Europeans as the “Tower of Silence.” Náís and Náwús also mean a Pyrethrum, a fire-temple and have a whimsical resemblance to the Greek {Greek text}.
467 For Munkar and Nakir, the Interrogating Angels, see vol. v. iii. According to Al-Mas’udi (chapt. xxxi.) these names were given by the Egyptians to the thirteenth and fourteenth cubits marked on the Nilometer which, in his day, was expected to show seventeen.
468 The text (xi. 227) has “Tannúr”=an oven, evidently a misprint for “Kubúr”=tombs.
469 Arab. “’An Abí”=(a propitiatory offering) for my father. So in Marocco the “Powder-players” dedicate a shot to a special purpose or person, crying “To my sweetheart!” “To my dead!” “To my horse!” etc.
470 For this formula see vol. i. 65. It is technically called “Haukalah” and “Haulakah,” words in the third conjugation of increased triliterals, corresponding with the quadriliteral radicals and possessing the peculiar power of Kasr=abbreviation. Of this same class is Basmalah (vol. v. 206; ix. 1).
471 This scene with the watch would be relished in the coffee-house, where the tricks of robbers, like a gird at the police, are always acceptable.
472 Arab. “Lá af’al”; more commonly Má af’al. Má and Lá are synonymous negative particles, differing, however, in application. Má (Gr.:¬) precedes definites, or indefinites: Lá and Lam (Gr. @Û) only indefinites as “Lá iláha” etc.
473 Alluding to the proverb, “What hast thou left behind thee, O Asám?” i.e., what didst thou see?
When the evening evened, King Shah Bakht summoned the Wazir and required of him the hearing of the story. So Al-Rahwan said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O King, to
Four sharpers once plotted against a Shroff, a man of much wealth, and agreed upon a sleight for securing some of his coins. So one of them took an ass and laying on it a bag, wherein were dirhams, lighted down at the shop of the Shroff and sought of him small change. The man of monies brought out to him the silver bits and bartered them with him, whilst the sharper was easy with him in the matter of exchange, so he might gar him long for more gain. As they were thus, up came the other three sharpers and surrounded the donkey; and one of them said, “’Tis he,” and another said, “Wait till I look at him.” Then he took to considering the ass and stroking him from crest475 to tail; whilst the third went up to him and handled him and felt him from head to rump, saying, “Yes, ’tis in him.” Said another, “No, ’tis not in him;” and they left not doing the like of this for some time. Then they accosted the donkey’s owner and chaffered with him and he said, “I will not sell him but for ten thousand dirhams.” They offered him a thousand dirhams; but he refused and swore that he would not vend the ass but for that which he had said. They ceased not adding to their offer till the price reached five thousand dirhams, whilst their mate still said, “I’ll not vend him save for ten thousand silver pieces.” The Shroff advised him to sell, but he would not do this and said to him, “Ho, shaykh! Thou wottest not the case of this donkey. Stick to silver and gold and what pertaineth thereto of exchange and small change; because indeed the virtue of this ass is a mystery to thee. For every craft its crafty men and for every means of livelihood its peculiar people.” When the affair was prolonged upon the three sharpers, they went away and sat down aside; then they came up privily to the money-changer and said to him, “An thou can buy him for us, do so, and we will give thee twenty dirhams.” Quoth he, “Go away and sit down at a distance from him.” So they did as he bade and the Shroff went up to the owner of the ass and ceased not luring him with lucre and saying, “Leave these wights and sell me the donkey, and I will reckon him a present from thee,” till he sold him the animal for five thousand and five hundred dirhams. Accordingly the,money-changer weighed out to him that sum of his own monies, and the owner of the ass took the price and delivered the beast to him, saying, “Whatso shall betide, though he abide a deposit upon thy neck,476 sell him not to yonder cheats for less than ten thousand dirhams, for that they would fain buy him because of a hidden hoard they know, whereto naught can guide them save this donkey. So close thy hand on him and cross me not, or thou shalt repent.” With these words he left him and went away, whereupon up came the three other sharpers, the comrades of him of the ass, and said to the Shroff, “God requite thee for us with good, in that thou hast bought him! How can we reward thee?” Quoth he, “I will not sell him but for ten thousand dirhams.” When they heard that they returned to the ass and fell again to examining him like buyers and handling him. Then said they to the money-changer, “Indeed we were deceived in him. This is not the ass we sought and he is not worth to us more than ten nusfs.”477 Then they left him and offered to go away, whereat the Shroff was sore chagrined and cried out at their speech, saying, “O folk, ye asked me to buy him for you and now I have bought him, ye say, we were deceived in him, and he is not worth to us more than ten nusfs.” They replied, “We thought that in him was whatso we wanted; but, behold, in him is the contrary of that which we wish; and indeed he hath a blemish, for that he is short of back.” Then they made long noses478 at him and went away from him and dispersed. The money-changer deemed they did but play him off, that they might get the donkey at their own price; but, when they walked away from him and he had long awaited their return, he cried out saying, “Well-away!” and “Ruin!” and “Sorry case I am in!” and shrieked aloud and rent his raiment. So the market-people assembled to him and questioned him of his case; whereupon he acquainted them with his condition and told them what the knaves had said and how they had cozened him and how they had cajoled him into buying an ass worth fifty dirhams479 for five thousand and five hundred.480 His friends blamed him and a gathering of the folk laughed at him and admired his folly and over-faith in believing the talk of the sharpers without suspicion, and meddling with that which he understood not and thrusting himself into that whereof he had no sure knowledge. “On this wise, O King Shah Bakht” (continued the Wazir), “is the issue of greed for the goods of the world and indeed coveting that which our knowledge containeth not shall lead to ruin and repentance. Nor, O King of the age” (added he), “is this story stranger than that of the Cheat and the Merchants.” When the King heard these words, he said in himself, “Indeed, had I given ear to the sayings of my courtiers and inclined to their idle prate in the matter of my Minister, I had repented to the utterest of penitence, but Alhamdolillah — laud be to the Lord — who hath disposed me to endurance and long-suffering and hath vouchsafed to me patience!” Then he turned to the Wazir and dismissed him to his dwelling and gave congé to those who were present, according to his custom.
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Minister and when he presented himself before him, he required of him the hearing of the story. So he said, “Hearing and obeying. Give ear, O illustrious lord, to
There was once in olden time a certain Cheat, who could turn the ear inside out by his talk, and he was a model of cleverness and quick wit and skill and mischief. It was his wont to enter a town and make a show of being a trader and engage in intimacy with people of worth and sit in session with the merchants, for his name was noted as a man of virtue and piety. Then he would put a sleight on them and take of them what he might spend and fare forth to another stead; and he ceased not to do thus for a while of time. It chanced one day that he entered a certain city and sold somewhat that was with him of merchandise and made friends of the merchants of the place and took to sitting with them and entertaining them and inviting them to his quarters and his assembly, whilst they also invited him to their houses. He abode after such fashion a long time until he was minded to quit the city; and this was bruited among his intimates, who grieved for parting from him. Then he betook himself to one of them who was the richest in substance and the most conspicuous for generosity, and sat with him and borrowed his goods; and when rising to depart, he bade him return the deposit that he had left with him. Quoth the merchant, “And what is the deposit?” and quoth the Cheat, “’Tis such a purse, with the thousand dinars therein.” The merchant asked, “And when didst thou give me that same?” and the Cheat answered, “Extolled be Allah of All Might! Was it not on such a day, by such a token which is thus and thus?” The man rejoined, “I know naught of this,” and words were bandied about between them, whilst the folk who heard them disputed together concerning their sayings and doings, till their voices rose high and the neighbours had knowledge of that which passed between them.481 Then said the Cheat, “O people, this is my friend and I deposited with him a deposit which he denieth having received: so in whom shall men put trust after this?” And they said, “This person is a man of worth and we have known in him naught but trustiness and good faith and the best of breeding, and he is endowed with sense and manliness.482 Indeed, he affirmeth no false claim, for that we have consorted and associated with him and he with us and we know the sincerity of his religion.” Then quoth one of them to the merchant, “Ho, Such-an-one! Bethink thee of the past and refresh thy memory. It cannot be that thou hast forgotten.” But quoth he, “O people, I wot nothing of what he saith, for indeed he deposited naught with me:” and the matter was prolonged between them. Then said the Cheat to the merchant, “I am about to travel and I have, praised be Allah Almighty, much wealth, and this money shall not escape me; but do thou make oath to me.” And the folk said, “Indeed, this man doth justice upon himself.”483 Whereupon the merchant fell into that which he disliked484 and came nigh upon loss and ill fame. Now he had a friend, who pretended to sharpness and intelligence; so he came up to him secretly and said to him, “Let me do so I may cheat this Cheat, for I know him to be a liar and thou art near upon having to weigh out the gold; but I will parry off suspicion from thee and say to him, The deposit is with me and thou erredst in suspecting that it was with other than myself; and so I will divert him from thee.” The other replied, “Do so, and rid the people of such pretended debts.” Accordingly the friend turned to the Cheat and said to him, “O my lord, I am Such-an-one, and thou goest under a delusion. The purse is with me, for it was with me that thou depositedst it, and this Shaykh is innocent of it.” But the Cheat answered him with impatience and impetuosity, saying, “Extolled be Allah! As for the purse that is with thee, O noble and faithful man, I know ’tis under Allah’s charge and my heart is easy anent it, because ’tis with thee as it were with me; but I began by demanding the purse which I deposited with this man, of my knowledge that he coveteth the goods of folk.” At this the friend was confounded and put to silence and returned not a reply; and the only result of his meddling was that each of them — merchant and friend — had to pay a thousand gold pieces. So the Cheat took the two thousand dinars and made off; and when he was gone, the merchant said to his friend, the man of pretended sharpness and intelligence, “Ho, Such-an-one! Thou and I are like the Falcon and the Locust.” The friend asked, “What was their case?” and the merchant answered with
481 Characteristically Eastern and Moslem is this action of the neighbours and bystanders. A walk through any Oriental city will show a crowd of people screaming and gesticulating, with thundering yells and lightning glances, as if about to close in mortal fight, concerning some matter which in no way concerns them. Our European cockneys and badauds mostly content themselves with staring and mobbing.
482 Arab. “Muruwwah,” lit. manliness, especially in the sense of generosity. So the saying touching the “Miyán,” or Moslem of India:—
Fí ’l-riuz Kuwwah:
Fí ’I Hindí muruwwah.
When rice have strength, you’ll haply find,
In Hindi man, a manly mind.
483 i.e. His claim is just and reasonable.
484 I have noted (vol. i. 17) that good Moslems shun a formal oath, although “by Allah!” is ever on their tongues. This they seem to have borrowed from Christianity, which expressly forbade it, whilst Christians cannot insist upon it too much. The scandalous scenes lately enacted in a certain legislative assembly because an M.P. did not believe in a practice denounced by his creed, will be the wonder and ridicule of our descendants.
There was once, of old time, a Falcon who made himself a nest hard by the home of a Locust, and his neighbour gloried in such neighbourhood and betaking herself to him, saluted him with the salam and said, “O my lord and lord of all the birds, indeed the nearness to thee delighteth me and thou honourest me with thy vicinity and my soul is fortified with thee.” The Falcon thanked her for this and friendship between them followed. One day, the Locust said to the bird, “O prince of the flying race, how is it that I see thee alone, solitary, having with thee no friend of thy kind, the volatiles, on whom thou mayst repose in time of gladness and of whom thou mayst seek aid in tide of sadness? Indeed, ’tis said, ‘Man goeth about seeking ease of body and ward of strength,’ and there is naught in this more necessary to him than a true friend who shall be the crown of his comfort and the column of his career and on whom shall be his dependence in his distress and in his delight. Now I, although ardently desiring thy weal in that which befitteth thy rank and degree, yet am weak in that which the soul craveth; but, an thou deign give me leave, I will seek out for thee one of the birds who shall fellow thee in body and strength.” And the Falcon said, “I commit this to thee and rely upon thee herein.” Thereupon, the Locust began going round the company of the birds, but saw naught resembling the Falcon in bulk and body save the Kite and thought well of her. So she brought the twain together and counselled the Falcon to foregather with the Kite. Presently it fortuned that the Falcon fell sick and the Kite tarried with and tended him a long while till he recovered and became sound and strong, wherefore he thanked her and she fared from him. But after some days the Falcon’s sickness returned to him and he needed succour of the Kite, so the Locust went out from him and was absent from him a day; after which she returned to him with another locust,486 saying, “I have brought thee this one.” When the Falcon saw her, he said, “God requite thee with good! Indeed, thou hast done well in the quest and thou hast shown subtlety and discrimination in the choice.” All this befel because the Locust had no knowledge of the essence which lurketh in the outer semblance of bodies. “As for thee, O my brother (Allah requite thee with weal!), thou wast subtle in device and usedst precaution; but forethought availeth not against Fate, and Fortune foreordained baffleth force of fence. How excellent is the saying of the poet when he spake these couplets:—487
‘It chances whiles that the blind man escapes a pit,
Whilst he who is clear of sight falls into it.
The ignorant man may speak with impunity
A word that is death to the wise and the ripe of wit.
The true believer is pinched for his daily bread,
Whilst infidel rogues enjoy all benefit.
Where is a man’s resource and what can he do?
It is the Almighty’s will: we must submit.’”
“Nor” (continued the Wazir) “is this, O king of the age, rarer or stranger than the story of the King and his Chamberlain’s wife; nay, this is more wondrous than that and more delectable.” When the king heard this story, he was strengthened in his resolve to spare the Minister and to eschew haste in an affair whereof he was not certified; so he comforted him and bade him hie to his home.
485 Most Arabs believe that the black cloud which sometimes produces, besides famine, contagious fevers and pestilence, like that which in 1799 depopulated the cities and country of Barbary, is led by a king locust, the Sultan Jarád.
486 The text is hopelessly corrupt, and we have no other with which to collate. Apparently a portion of the tale has fallen out, making a non-sens of its ending, which suggests that the kite gobbled up the two locusts at her ease, and left the falcon to himself.
487 The lines have occurred in vol. i. 265. I quote Mr. Payne.
When it was night, the King summoned the Wazir and sought of him the hearing of the story. Al-Rahwan replied, “Hearkening and obedience! Listen, O august sovran, to
There was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, a King of the kings of the Persians, who was much addicted to the love of fair women. His courtiers spoke him of the wife of a certain of his Chamberlains, a model of beauty and loveliness and perfect grace, and this egged him on to go in to her. When she saw him, she knew him and said to him, “What urgeth the King to this that he doeth?” and he replied, saying, “Verily, I long for thee with excess of longing and there is no help but that I enjoy thy favours.” And he gave her of wealth that after whose like women lust; but she said, “I cannot do the deed whereof the king speaketh, for fear of my husband; “489 and she refused herself to him with the most rigorous of refusals and would not suffer him to win his wish. So the king went out in wrath, and forgot his girdle in the place. Now it chanced that her husband entered immediately after his lord had departed, and saw the girdle and knew it. He was aware of the king’s love for women; so quoth he to his wife, “What be this I see with thee?” Quoth she, “I’ll tell thee the truth,” and recounted to him the occurrence; but he believed her not and suspicion entered his heart. As for the King, he passed that night in care and concern, and when the morning morrowed, he summoned that Chamberlain and made him governor of one of his provinces; then he bade him betake himself thither, purposing, after he should have departed and fared afar, to foregather with his wife. The Chamberlain perceived his project and kenned his intent; so he answered, saying, “To hear is to obey!” presently adding, “I will go and order my affairs and give such injunctions as may be needed for the well-doing of my affairs; then will I go about the sovran’s commission.” And the King said, “Do this and make haste.” So the Chamberlain went about that which he needed and assembling his wife’s kinsfolk, said to them, “I am determined to dismiss my wife.” They took this ill of him and complained of him and summoning him before the sovereign, sat prosecuting him. Now the King had no knowledge of that which had passed; so he said to the Chamberlain, “Why wilt thou put her away and how can thy soul consent to this and why takest thou unto thyself a fine and fertile piece of land and presently forsakest it?” Answered the husband, “Allah amend the king! By the Almighty, O my King, I saw therein the trail of the lion and fear to enter that land, lest the lion devour me; and the like of my affair with her is that which befel between the Crone and the Draper’s Wife. The king asked, “What is their adventure?” and the Chamberlain answered, “Hear, O king,
488 The fabliau is a favourite in the East; this is the third time it has occurred with minor modifications. Of course the original was founded on fact, and the fact was and is by no means uncommon.
489 This would hardly be our Western way of treating a proposal of the kind; nor would the European novelist neglect so grand an opportunity for tall-talk.
There was once a man of the Drapers, who had a beautiful wife, and she was curtained491 and chaste. A certain young man saw her coming forth of the Hammam and loved her and his heart was engrossed with her. So he devised for access to her all manner of devices, but availed not to foregather with her; and when he was a-weary and his patience failed for travail and trouble and his fortitude betrayed and forsook him and he was at an end of his resources against her, he complained of this to an ill-omened crone,492 who promised him to bring about union between him and his beloved. He thanked her for this and promised her all manner of douceurs; and she said to him, “Hie thee to her husband and buy of him a turband-cloth of fine linen, and let it be of the very best of stuff.” So he repaired to the Draper and buying of him a turband-cloth of lawn, returned and gave it to the old woman, who took it and burned it in two places. Then she donned the dress of a devotee and taking the turband-cloth with her, went to the Draper’s house and knocked at the door. When the Draper’s wife saw her thus habited as a holy woman, she opened to her and admitted her with kindly reception, and made much of her and welcomed her: so the crone went in to her and conversed with her awhile. Then said she to her, “I want to make the Wuzu-ablution preparatory to prayer.”493 At these words the wife brought the water and she made the ablution and standing up to pray, prayed and satisfied herself; and when she had ended her orisons, she left the turband-cloth in the place of prayer and fared forth. Presently, in came the Draper, at the hour of night-devotions, and sitting down in the prayer-place where the old woman had prayed, looked about him and espied the turband. He knew it and suspected foul play; so wrath showed in his face and he was furious with his wife and reviled her and abode his day and his night without speaking to her, during all which while she knew not the cause of his rage. Then she looked and seeing the turband-cloth before him and noting the traces of burning thereon, understood that his anger was on account of this and concluded that he was in ill-temper because it was burnt. When the morning morrowed, the Draper went out, still wroth with his wife, and the crone returned to her and found her changed of colour, pale of complexion, dejected and heart-broken. So she questioned her of the cause, and the wife told her how her husband was angered against her on account of the burns in the turband-cloth.494 Rejoined the old woman, “O my daughter, be not chagrined; for I have a son, a fine-drawer, and he, by thy life, shall fine-draw the holes and restore the turband-cloth as it was.” The wife rejoiced in her saying and asked her, “And when shall this be?” The crone answered, “To-morrow, Inshallah — an it please Allah the Most High — I will bring him to thee, at the time of thy husband’s going forth from thee, and he shall fine-draw it and depart forthwith.” Then she comforted her heart and going away from her, returned to the young man and acquainted him with what had passed. Now when the Draper saw the turband-cloth, he determined to divorce his wife and waited only till he could collect that which was obligatory on him of the contingent dowry and what not else,495 for fear of her people. When the crone arose in the morning, she took the young man and carried him into the Draper’s house. The wife opened the door to her and the ill-omened old woman entered with him and said to the lady, “Go, fetch that which thou wouldest have fine-drawn and give it to my son.” So saying, she bolted the door on her, whereupon the young man raped496 her against her will and did his want of her and went forth. Then cried the crone, “Know that this is my son and that he loved thee with exceeding love and was like to lose his life for longing after thee; so I devised for thee with this device and came to thee with this turband-cloth, which is not thy husband’s, but my son’s. Now have I won to my wish; so do thou trust in me and I will put a sleight on thy husband for setting thee right with him, and thou wilt be subject to me and to him and to my son.”497 And the wife replied, “’Tis well. Do so.” Presently the old woman returned to the lover and said, “Know thou that I have engineered the affair for thee with her; and now we must mend that we have marred. Hie thee and sit with the Draper and mention to him the turband-cloth, saying, ‘The turband I bought of thee I chanced to burn in two places; so I gave it to a certain old woman, to have fine-drawn, and she took it and went away, and I know not her dwelling-place.’498 When thou seest me pass by, rise and lay hold of me, and demand of me the cloth, to the intent that I may arrange her affair with her spouse and that matters go right with thee in her regard.” Accordingly he repaired to the Draper’s shop and sat down by him and asked him, “Thou knowest the turband-cloth I bought of thee?” “Yes.” “Knowest thou what is come of it?” “No.” “After I bought it of thee, I fumigated myself499 and it fortuned that the turbandcloth was burnt in two places; so I gave it to a woman, whose son, they said, was a fine-drawer, and she took it and fared forth with it; and I know not her home.” When the Draper heard this, he was startled by the thought that he had suspected his wife wrongfully, and marvelled at the story of the turband-cloth, and his mind was made easy anent her. After a short while up came the old woman, whereupon the young man sprang to his feet and seizing her, demanded of her the turband-cloth. Said she, “Know that I entered one of the houses and wuzu’d and prayed in the prayer place;500 and I forgot the turband-cloth there and went out. Now I weet not the house in which I prayed, nor have I been divinely directed501 thereto, and I go round about every day till the night, so haply I may light on the dwelling, for I know not its owner.” When the Draper heard these words, he said to the old woman, “Verily, Allah restoreth to thee what thing thou hast lost. Be gladdened by good news, for the turband-cloth is with me and in my house.” And he arose forthright and handed to her the turband-cloth, as it was, and she handed it to the young man. Then the Draper made peace with his wife and gave her raiment and jewellery, till she was content and her heart was appeased.502 When the king heard his Chamberlain’s story, he was dazed and amazed and said to him, “Abide on thy service and ear thy field for that the lion entered it, but marred it not, and he will never more return thither.” 503 Then he bestowed on him an honourable robe and made him a costly present; and the man returned to his wife and people, rejoicing, his heart having been set at rest concerning his wife. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “O King of the age, is this rarer or stranger than the story of the beautiful wife, a woman gifted of amorous grace, with the ugly Man, her husband.” When King Shah Bakht heard the Minister’s speech, he deemed it delectable and it pleased him; so he bade him hie to his house, and there he tarried his day long.
490 This is a rechauffé of “The House with the Belvedere;” see vol. vi. 188.
491 Arab. “Mastúrah,”=veiled, well-guarded, confined in the Harem.
492 Arab. “’Ajúz nahs”=an old woman so crafty that she was a calamity to friends and foes.
493 Here, as in many places the text is painfully concise: the crone says only, “The Wuzu for the prayer!”
494 I have followed Mr. Payne who supplies this sentence to make the Tale run smoothly.
495 i.e. the half of the marriage-settlement due to the wife on divorcement and whatever monies he may have borrowed of her.
496 Here we find the vulgar idea of a rape, which is that a man can, by mere force, possess a woman against her will. I contend that this is impossible unless he use drugs like chloroform or violence, so as to make the patient faint or she be exceptionally weak. “Good Queen Bess” hit the heart of the question when she bade Lord High Chancellor sheath his sword, she holding the scabbard-mouth before him and keeping it in constant motion. But it often happens that the woman, unless she have a loathing for her violator, becomes infected with the amorous storge, relaxes her defense, feels pleasure in the outer contact of the parts and almost insensibly allows penetration and emission. Even conception is possible in such cases as is proved in that curious work, “The Curiosities of Medical Experience.”
497 i.e. thou wilt have satisfied us all three.
498 Here I follow Mr. Payne who has skilfully fine-drawn the holes in the original text.
499 See vol. vii. 363; ix. 238.
500 Arab. “Musallà,” which may be either a praying carpet, a pure place in a house, or a small chapel like that near Shiraz which Hafiz immortalised,
“Bring, boy, the sup that’s in the cup; in highest Heaven man ne’er shall find
Such watery marge as Ruknábád, MusalIà’s mazes rose entwined.”
501 Arab. “Ihtidá,”=divine direction to Hudà or salvation. The old bawd was still dressed as a devotee, and keeps up the cant of her caste. No sensible man in the East ever allows a religious old woman to pass his threshold.
502 In this tale “poetical justice” is neglected, but the teller skilfully caused the wife to be ravished and not to be a particeps criminis. The lover escapes scot-free because Moslems, as well as Hindus, hold that the amourist under certain conditions is justified in obtaining his object by fair means or foul. See p. 147 of “Early Ideas, a Group of Hindoo Stories,” collected and collated by Anaryan: London, Allens, 1881.
503 This is supplied from the “Tale of the King and his Wazir’s Wife,” vol. vi. 129.
When the evening evened, the King summoned his Wazir and bade him tell the tale. So he said, “’Tis well. Hear, O King,
There was once a man of the Arabs who had a number of children, and amongst them a boy, never was seen a fairer than he of favour nor a more complete in comeliness; no, nor a more perfect of prudence. When he came to man’s estate, his father married him to his first cousin, the daughter of one of his paternal uncles, and she excelled not in beauty, neither was she laudable for qualities; wherefore she pleased not the youth, but he bore with her for the sake of kinship. One day, he fared forth in quest of certain camels504 of his which had strayed and hied him on all his day and night till eventide, when he was fain to seek hospitality in an Arab camp. So he alighted at one of the tents of the tribesmen and there came forth to him a man short of stature and foul of favour, who saluted him with the salam; and, lodging him in a corner of the tent, sat entertaining him with chat, the cheeriest that might be. When his food was dressed, the Arab’s wife brought it to the guest, and he looked at the mistress of the tent and saw a semblance than which no seemlier might be. Indeed, her beauty and loveliness, her symmetry and perfect grace amazed him and he was struck with astonishment, gazing now at her and then at her mate. When his looking grew long, the man said to him, “Ho, thou son of the worthy! Busy thyself with thine own business, for by me and this woman hangeth a wondrous tale, which is even better than that thou seest of her beauty; and I will tell it to thee when we have made a finish of our food.” So, when they had ended eating and drinking, the young man asked his host for the story, and he said, “Know that in my youth I was the same as thou seest me in the matter of loathliness and foul favour; and I had brethren of the fairest of the folk; wherefore my father preferred them over me and used to show them kindness, to my exclusion, and made me serve in their stead, like as a master employeth slaves. One day, a dromedary of his strayed from the herd of camels, and he said to me, ‘Go thou forth in quest of her and return not but with her.’ I replied, ‘Send other than I of thy sons.’ But he would not consent to this and scolded me and insisted upon me, till the matter came to such a pass with him that he took a thongwhip and fell to beating me. So I arose and saddling a riding-camel, mounted her and sallied forth at random, purposing to go out into the wolds and the wilds and return to him never more. I fared on all my night and the next day and coming at eventide505 to the encampment of this my wife’s people, alighted down with and became the guest of her father, who was a Shaykh well stricken in years. Now when it was the noon of night, I arose and went forth the tent at a call of nature, and none knew of my case save this woman. The dogs followed me as a suspected stranger and ceased not worrying me506 till I fell on my back into a pit, wherein was water, a deep hollow and a steep; and a dog of those dogs fell in with me. The woman, who was then a girl in the bloom of youth, full of strength and spirit, was moved to ruth on me, for the calamity whereinto I was fallen, and coming to me with a rope, said to me, ‘Catch hold of the rope,’ So I hent it and clung to it and she haled me up; but, when I was half-way up, I pulled her down and she fell with me into the pit; and there we abode three days, she and I and the hound. When her people arose in the morning and did not see her, they sought her in the camp, but, finding her not and missing me also, never doubted but she had fled with me.507 Now she had four brothers, as they were Saker-hawks, and they took horse and dispersed in search of us. When the day yellowed on the fourth dawn, the dog began to bark and the other hounds answered him and coming to the mouth of the pit, stood howling to him. The Shaykh, my wife’s father, hearing the howling of the hounds, came up and standing at the brink of the hollow, looked in and beheld a marvel. Now he was a brave man and a sensible, an elder experienced in affairs, so he fetched a cord and bringing forth the three, questioned us twain of our case. I told him all that had betided and he fell a-pondering the affair. Presently, her brothers returned, whereupon the old man acquainted them with the whole case and said to them, ‘O my sons, know that your sister intended not aught but good, and if ye kill this man, ye will earn abiding shame and ye will wrong him, and wrong your own souls and eke your sister: for indeed there appeareth no cause such as calleth for killing, and it may not be denied that this accident is a thing whose like may well occur and that he may easily have been the victim of suchlike chance.’ Then he addressed me and questioned me of my lineage; so I set forth to him my genealogy and he, exclaiming, ‘A man of her match, honourable, understanding,’ offered me his daughter in wedlock. I consented to this and marrying her, took up my abode with him and Allah hath opened on me the gates of weal and wealth, so that I am become the richest in monies of the tribesmen; and the Almighty hath stablished me in that which He hath given me of His bounties.” The young man marvelled at his tale and lay the night with him; and when he arose in the morning, he found his estrays. So he took them and returning to his folk, acquainted them with what he had seen and all that had befallen him. “Nor” (continued the Wazir) “is this stranger or rarer than the story of the King who lost kingdom and wealth and wife and children and Allah restored them to him and requited him with a realm more magnificent than that which he had forfeited and better and finer and greater of wealth and degree.” The Minister’s story pleased the King and he bade him depart to his abode.
504 Arab. “Ibl,” a specific name: it is presently opposed to “Nákah,” a she-dromedary, and “Ráhilah,” a riding-camel.
505 Here “Amsaytu” is used in its literal sense “I evened” (came at evening), and this is the case with seven such verbs, Asbaha, Amsá, Azhá, Azhara, A’tama, Zalla, and Báta, which either conjoin the sense of the sentence with their respective times, morning, evening, forenoon, noon and the first sundown watch, all day and all night or are used “elegantly,” as grammarians say, for the simple “becoming” or “being.”
506 The Badawi dogs are as dangerous as those of Montenegro but not so treacherous: the latter will sneak up to the stranger and suddenly bite him most viciously. I once had a narrow escape from an ignoble death near the slaughter-house of Alexandria-Ramlah, where the beasts were unusually ferocious. A pack assailed me at early dawn and but for an iron stick and a convenient wall I should have been torn to pieces.
507 These elopements are of most frequent occurrence: see Pilgrimage iii. 52.
When came the night, the king summoned his Wazir and bade him tell the story of the King who lost kingdom and wife and wealth. He replied, “Hearing and obeying! Give ear, O sovran, to
There was once a king of the kings of Hind, who was a model of morals, praiseworthy in policy, lief of justice to his lieges, lavish to men of learning and piety and abstinence and devoutness and worship and shunning mischief-makers and froward folk, fools and traitors. After such goodly fashion he abode in his kingship what Allah the Most High willed of watches and days and twelvemonths,509 and he married the daughter of his father’s brother, a beautiful woman and a winsome, endowed with brightness and perfection, who had been reared in the king’s house in delicacy and delight. She bare him two sons, the most beauteous that might be of boys, when came Destiny from whose decree is no deliverance and Allah the Most High raised up against the King another king, who came forth upon his realm, and was joined by all the folk of the city that had a mind to lewdness and frowardness. So he strengthened himself by means of them against the King and compassed his kingdom, routing his troops and killing his guards. The King took his wife, the mother of his sons, and what he might of monies and saved his life and fled in the darkness of the night, unknowing whither he should wend. Whenas wayfare grew sore upon them, there met them highwaymen on the way, who took all that was with them, so that naught remained to each of them save a shirt and trousers; the robbers left them without even provaunt or camels or other riding-cattle, and they ceased not to fare on afoot, till they came to a copse, which was an orchard of trees on the ocean shore.510 Now the road which they would have followed was crossed by a sea-arm, but it was shallow and scant of water; wherefore, when they reached that place, the king took up one of his children and fording the water with him, set him down on the further bank and returned for his other son, whom also he seated by his brother. Lastly, returning for their mother, he took her up and passing the water with her, came to the place where he had left his children, but found them not. Thereupon he looked at the midst of the island and saw an old man and an old woman, engaged in making themselves a reed-hut: so he set down his wife over against them and started off in quest of his children, but none gave him news of them and he went round about right and left, yet found not the whereabouts they were. On this wise fared it with him; but as to the children, they had entered the copse to make water, and they found there a forest of trees, wherein, if a sturdy horseman511 strayed, he might wander by the week, and never know its first from its last. So the boys pushed into it and wotted not how they should return and went astray in that wood, for a purpose willed of Allah Almighty, whilst their father sought them, but found them not. So he returned to their mother and they abode weeping for their children; as for whom, when they entered the forest, it swallowed them up and they fared at hap-hazard, wandering in it many days, knowing not whence they came or whither they went, till they issued forth, at another side, upon the open country. Meanwhile, their parents, the king and queen, tarried in the island, over against the old man and his old woman, and ate of the fruits and drank of the rills that were in it till, one day of the days, as they sat, behold, up came a ship and made fast to the island-side, for provisioning with water, whereupon they512 looked one at other and spoke. The master of the craft was a Magian man and all that was therein, both crew and goods, belonged to him, for he was a trader and went round about the world. Now greed of gain deluded the old man, the owner of the island, and he fared to the ship and gave the Guebre news of the King’s wife, setting out to him her charms, till he made him long for her and his soul moved513 him to practise treachery and cozenage upon her and take her from her husband. Accordingly, he sent to her, saying, “Aboard with us is a woman with child, and we dread lest she be delivered this night: hast thou aught of skill in midwifery?” She replied, “Yes.” Now it was the last of the day; so he sent to her to come up into the ship and deliver the woman, for that the labour-pangs were come upon her; and he promised her clothes and spendingmoney. Hereat, she embarked confidently, with heart at ease for herself, and transported her gear to the ship; but no sooner had she come thither than the sails were hoisted and the canvas was loosed514 and the ship set sail. When the King saw this, he cried out and his wife wept in the ship and would have cast herself into the waves; but the Magian bade his men lay hands on her. So they seized her and it was but a little while ere the night darkened and the ship vanished from the King’s eyes; whereupon he fainted away for excess of weeping and lamentation and passed his night bewailing his wife and his children. And when the morning morrowed he began improvising these couplets:—515
“O World, how long, this spite, this enmity?
Say me, dost ever spare what spared can be?
And look! my friends have farèd fain and free!
They went and went wi’ them my dear delight
E’en from the day when friends to part were dight
And turbid made their lost life’s clarity.
By Allah, ne’er I wist their worth aright
Nor ever wot I worth of friends unite
Till fared they, leaving flame in heart of me!
I’ll ne’er forget them since what day each wight
Hied and withdrew fro’ me his well-loved sight
And yet I weep this parting-blow to dree.
I vow an Heaven deign my friends return
And cry the crier in mine ears that yearn
“The far is near, right soon their sight shalt see!”
Upon their site my cheeks I’ll place, to sprite
I’ll say, “Rejoice, thy friends return to thee!”
Nor blame my heart when friends were lief to flee:
I rent my heart ere rent my raimentry.”
He sat weeping for the severance of his wife and children till the morning, when he went forth wandering at a venture, unweeting what he should do, and ceased not walking along the sea-shore days and nights, unknowing whither he went and taking no food save the herbs of the earth and seeing neither man nor wildling nor other living thing, till his wayfare brought him to a mountain-top. He sojourned in the highland and abode awhile there alone, eating of its fruits and drinking of its founts; then he came down thence and trudged along the high road three days, when he hit upon tilled fields and villages and gave not over going till he made a great city on the shore of the salt sea and came to its gate at the last of the day. The gatekeepers allowed him no admission; so he spent his night anhungered, and when he arose in the morning, he sat down hard by the portal. Now the king of the city was dead and had left no son, and the citizens fell out anent who should be ruler over them: and their words and redes differed, so that civil war was like to befal them thereupon. But it came to pass that, after long jangle, they agreed to leave the choice to the late king’s elephant and that he unto whom he consented should be king and that they would not contest with him the sway. So to this they sware and on the morrow, they brought out their elephant and fared forth to a site within sight of the city; nor was there man or woman but was present at that moment. Then they adorned the elephant and raising the throne on his back, gave him the crown in his trunk; and he went round about examining the countenances of the folk, but stopped not over against any of them till he came at last to the forlorn King, the exile who had lost his children and his wife, when the beast prostrated himself to him and placing the crown on his head, took him up and set him upon his back. Thereupon the people all prostrated themselves and gave mutual joy of this and the drums516 of good tidings beat before him, and he entered the city and went on till he reached the House of Justice and the Audience-hall of the Palace and sat down upon the throne of the kingdom, crown on head; whereat the lieges entered to congratulate him and to bless him. Then he addressed himself, as was his wont in the kingship, to forwarding the affairs of the folk and ranging the troops according to their ranks and looking into their affairs and those of all the Ryots. He also released those who were in the dungeons and abolished the custom-dues and gave honourable robes and lavished great gifts and bestowed largesse and conferred favours on the Emirs and Wazirs and Lords of the realm, and the Chamberlains’517 and Nabobs presented themselves before him and did him homage. So the city people rejoiced in him and said, “Indeed, this be none other than a King of the greatest of the kings.” And presently he assembled the sages and the theologians and the sons of the Sovrans and conversed with them and asked them subtile questions and casuistical problems and talked over with them things manifold of all fashions that might direct him to rectitude in the kingship; and he questioned them also of mysteries and religious obligations and of the laws of the land and the regulations of rule and of that which it beseemeth the liege lord to do of looking into the affairs of the lieges and repelling the foe and fending off his malice with force and fight; so the subjects’ contentment redoubled and their exultation in that which Allah Almighty had vouchsafed them of his kingship over them. On such wise he upheld the ordinance of the realm, and the affairs abode stablished upon the accepted custom and local usage. Now the late king had left a wife and two daughters, and the people would fain have married the Princess royal to the new king that the rule might not pass clean away from the old rulers. Accordingly, they proposed to him that he should wed her or the other of the deceased king’s daughters, and he promised them this, but he put them off from him, of his respect for the covenant he had made with his former wife, his cousin, that he would marry none other than herself. Then he betook himself to fasting by day and praying through the night, multiplying his alms-deeds and beseeching Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) to reunite him with his children and his wife, the daughter of his father’s brother. When a year had elapsed, there came to the city a ship, wherein were many merchants and much merchandise. Now it was their custom from time immemorial that the king, whenever a ship made the port, sent to it such of his pages as he trusted in, who took agency of the goods, to the end that they might be first shown to the Sovran, who bought as much of them as befitted him and gave the merchants leave to sell whatso he wanted not. So he commissioned, according to his custom, a man who should fare to the ship and seal up the bales and set over them one who could watch and ward them. Meanwhile the Queen his wife, when the Magian fled with her and proffered himself to her and lavished upon her abounding wealth, rejected him and was like to kill herself518 for chagrin at that which had befallen and for concern anent her separation from her husband. She also refused meat and drink and resolved to cast herself into the sea; but the Magian chained her and straitened her and clothed her in a coat of wool and said to her, “I will continue thee in wretchedness and humiliation till thou obey me and accept me.” So she took patience and looked for the Almighty to deliver her from the hand of that accursed; and she ceased not travelling with him from country to country till he came with her in fine to the city wherein her husband was king and his goods were put under seal. Now the woman was in a chest and two youths of the late king’s pages, who were now in the new King’s service, were those who had been charged with the watch and ward of the craft and her cargaison. When the evening evened on them, the twain began talking and recounted that which had befallen them in their days of childhood and the manner of the faring forth of their father and mother from their country and kingdom when the wicked overcame their realm, and how they had gone astray in the forest and how Fate had severed them from their parents; for short, they told their tale from first to last. When the woman heard their talk, she knew that they were her sons and cried out to them from the chest, “I am your mother, Such-an-one, and the token between you twain and me is thus and thus.” The young men knew the token and falling upon the chest, brake the lock and brought out their mother, who seeing them, strained them to her bosom, and they fell upon her and fainted away, all three. When they came to themselves, they wept awhile and the people assembled about them, marvelling at that they saw, and questioned them of their case. So the young Princes vied each with other who should be the first to discover the story to the folk; and when the Magian saw this, he came up, crying out, “Alack!” and “Ruin!” and said to them, “Why and wherefore have ye broken open my chest? Verily, I had in it jewels and ye have stolen them, and this damsel is my slave-girl and she hath agreed with you both upon a device to take my wealth.” Then he rent his raiment and cried for aid, saying, “I appeal to Allah and to the just King, so he may quit me of these wrongous youths!” They both replied, “This is our mother and thou stolest her:” whereupon words waxed manifold between them and the folk plunged into talk with many a “he said” and “’twas said” concerning their affair and that of the pretended slave-girl, and the strife increased between them, so that at last they carried them all four to the King’s court. When the two young men presented themselves between his hands and stated their case to him and to the folk and the sovran heard their speech, he knew them and his heart was like to fly for joy: the tears poured from his eyes at their sight and the sight of his wife, and he thanked Allah Almighty and praised Him for that He had deigned reunite them. Then he bade the folk who were present about him be dismissed and commanded the Magian and the woman and the two youths be to morrow committed to his armoury519 for the night, ordering that they should keep guard over them all until the Lord should make the morning to morrow, so he might assemble the Kazis and the Justiciaries and Assessors and determine between them, according to Holy Law, in the presence of the four judges. So they did this and the King passed the night praying and praising Allah of All-might for that which he had vouchsafed him of kingship and power and victory over the wight who had wronged him and thanking Him who had reunited him with his own. When the morning morrowed, he assembled the Kazis and Deputies and Assessors520 and summoning the Magian and the two youths and their mother, questioned them of their case; whereupon the two young men began and said, “We are the sons of King Such-an-one and foemen and lewd fellows gat the mastery of our realm; so our sire fled forth with us and wandered at haphazard, for fear of the foe.” And they recounted to him all that had betided them, from beginning to end.521 Quoth he, “Ye tell a marvel-tale; but what hath Fate done with your father?” Quoth they, “We know not how Fortune dealt with him after our loss.” And he was silent. Then he bespake the woman, “And thou, what sayst thou?” So she set forth to him her case and all that had betided her and her husband, from the beginning of their hardships to the end, and recounted to him their adventures up to the time when they took up their abode with the old man and woman who dwelt on the sea-shore. Then she reported that which the Magian had practised on her of fraud and how he had carried her off in the craft and everything that had betided her of humiliation and torment; all this while the Kazis and judges and Deputies hearkening to her speech as they had lent ear to the others’ adventures. When the King heard the last of his wife’s tale, he said, “Verily, there hath betided thee a mighty grievous matter; but hast thou knowledge of what thy husband did and what came of his affair?” She replied, “Nay, by Allah; I have no knowledge of him, save that I leave him no hour unremembered in righteous prayer, and never, whilst I live, will he cease to be to me the father of my children and my cousin and my flesh and my blood.” Then she wept and the King bowed his head, whilst his eyes welled tears at her tale. Presently he raised his head to the Magian and cried to him, “Say thy say, thou also.” So the Magian replied, “This is my slave-girl, whom I bought with my money from such a land and for so many dinars, and I made her my betrothed522 and loved her exceedingly and gave my monies into her charge; but she falsed me in my substance and plotted with one of my lads to slay me, tempting him by a promise that she would kill me and become his wife. When I knew this of her and was assured that she purposed treason against me, I awoke from my dream of happiness and did with her that which I did, fearing for my life from her craft and perfidy; for indeed she is a trickstress with her tongue and she hath taught these two youths this pretence, by way of sleight and of her guile and her malice: so be you not deluded by her and by her talk.” “Thou liest, O accursed,” cried the King and bade lay hands on him and iron him. Then he turned to the two youths, his sons, and strained them to his breast, weeping sore and saying, “O all ye people who are present of Kazis and Assessors and Lords of the land, know that these twain are my sons and that this is my wife and the daughter of my father’s brother; for that whilome I was king in such a realm.” And he recounted to them his history from commencement to conclusion, nor is there aught of fruition in repetition; whereupon the folk cried out with weeping and wailing for the stress of what they heard of marvellous chances and that wondrous story. As for the king’s wife, he bade carry her into his palace and lavished upon her and upon her sons all that befitted and beseemed them of bounties, whilst the lieges flocked to offer up prayers for him and give him joy of his reunion with his wife and children. When they had made an end of blessings and congratulations, they besought the king to hasten the punishment of the Magian and heal their hearts with tormenting and abasing him. So he appointed them for a day on which they should assemble to witness his requitement and that which should betide him of torment, and shut himself up with his wife and two sons and abode thus private with them three days, during which they were veiled from the folk. On the fourth day the King entered the Hammam, and faring forth, sat down on the throne of his kingship, crown on head, whereupon the folk came in to him, according to their custom and after the measure of their several dignities and degrees, and the Emirs and Wazirs entered, and eke the Chamberlains and Nabobs and Captains of war and the Falconers and Armbearers and Commanders of the body-guard. Then he seated his two sons, one on his right and the other on his left hand, whilst the subjects all stood before him and lifted up their voices in thanksgiving to Allah the Most High and glorification of Him and were instant in orisons for the king and in setting forth his virtues and excellent qualities. He answered them with the most gracious of answers and bade carry the Magian outside the city and set him on a high scaffold which had been builded for him there; and he said to the folk, “Behold, I will torture him with torments of all kinds and fashions.” Then he began telling them that which he had wrought of villainy with his cousin-wife and what he had caused her of severance between her and her husband and how he had required her person of her, but she had sought refuge for her chastity against him with Allah (to whom belong honour and glory) and chose abasement rather than obedience to him, despite stress of torture: neither recked she aught of that which he lavished to her of monies and raiment, jewels and ornaments. When the King had made an end of his story, he bade the bystanders spit in the Magian’s face and curse him; and they did this. Then he bade cut out his tongue and on the next day he bade lop off his ears and nose and pluck out both his eyes. On the third day he bade hew off his hands and on the fourth his feet; and they ceased not to dismember him, limb after limb, and each member they cast into the fire, after its amputation, before his face, till his soul departed, after he had endured torments of all kinds and fashions. Then the King bade crucify his trunk on the city wall for three days; after which he gave orders to burn it and reduce its ashes to powder and scatter them abroad in air. And when this was done, the King summoned the Kazi and the Witnesses and commanded them marry the old king’s daughter and her sister to his own sons; so the youths wedded them, after the King had made a bride-feast three days and displayed their brides to them from nightfall to day-dawn. Then the two Princes went in unto their brides and abated their maidenheads and loved them and were vouchsafed issue by them. As for the King their sire, he abode with his cousin-wife, their mother, what while Allah (to whom be honour and glory) willed, and they rejoiced in reunion each with other. The kingship endured unto them and high degree and victory, and the sovran continued to rule with justice and equity, so that the lieges loved him and prayed for him and for his sons length of life and durance of days; and they lived the most delightsome of existences till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and Severer of societies, the Depopulator of palaces and Garnerer of graves; and this is all that hath come down to us of the story of the King and his Wife and Sons. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “if this story be a solace and a diversion, is it pleasanter or more diverting than the tale of the Youth of Khorasan and his mother and sister.” When King Shah Bakht heard this story, it pleased him and he bade the Minister hie away to his own house.
508 The principal incidents, the loss and recovery of wife and children, occur in the Story of the Knight Placidus (Gesta Romanorum, cx.). But the ecclesiastical taleteller does not do poetical justice upon any offenders, and he vilely slanders the great Cæsar, Trajan.
509 i.e. a long time: the idiom has already been noticed. In the original we have “of days and years and twelvemonths” in order that “A’wám” (years) may jingle with “Ayyám” (days).
510 Nothing can be more beautiful than the natural parks which travellers describe on the coasts of tropical seas.
511 Arab. “Khayyál” not only a rider but a good and a hard rider. Hence the proverb “Al-Khayyál” kabr maftúh=uomo a cavallo sepoltura aperta.
512 i.e. the crew and the islanders.
513 Arab. “Hadas,” a word not easy to render. In grammar Lumsden renders it by “event” and the learned Captain Lockett (Miut Amil) in an awful long note (pp. 195 to 224) by “mode,” grammatical or logical. The value of his disquisition is its proving that, as the Arabs borrowed their romance from the Persians, so they took their physics and metaphysics of grammar and syntax; logic and science in general, from the Greeks.
514 We should say the anchors were weighed and the canvas spread.
515 The rhymes are disposed in the quaintest way, showing extensive corruption. Mr. Payne has ordered them into couplets with a “bob” or refrain. I have followed suit, preserving the original vagaries of rhymes.
516 Arab. “Nuwab,” broken plur. (that is, noun of multitude) of Naubah, the Anglo-Indian Nowbut. This is applied to the band playing at certain intervals before the gate of a Rajah or high official.
517 Arab. “Hájib”; Captain Trotter (“Our Mission to the Court of Morocco in 1880”: Edinburgh, Douglas, 1881) speaks, passim, of the “cheery little Hájeb or Eyebrow.” Really this is too bad: why cannot travellers consult an Orientalist when treating of Oriental subjects?
518 Suicide is rare in Moslem lands, compared with India, China, and similar “pagan” countries; for the Mussulman has the same objection as the Christian “to rush into the presence of his Creator,” as if he could do so without the Creator’s permission. The Hindu also has some curious prejudices on the subject; he will hang himself, but not by the neck, for fear lest his soul be defiled by exiting through an impure channel. In England hanging is the commonest form for men; then follow in due order drowning, cutting or stabbing, poison, and gun-shot: women prefer drowning (except in the cold months) and poison. India has not yet found a Dr. Ogle to tabulate suicide; but the cases most familiar to old Anglo-Indians are leaping down cliffs (as at Giruar), drowning, and starving to death. And so little is life valued that a mother will make a vow obliging her son to suicide himself at a certain age.
519 Arab. “Zarad-Khánah,” before noticed: vol. vii. 363. Here it would mean a temporary prison for criminals of high degree. De Sacy, Chrestom, ii. 179.
520 Arab. “’Adúl,” I have said, means in Marocco, that land of lies and subterfuges, a public notary.
521 This sentence is inserted by Mr. Payne to complete the sense.
522 i.e. he intended to marry her when time served.
When evening came, the king Shah Bakht bade fetch the Wazir; so he presented himself before him and the King ordered him to tell the tale. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O sovran, to
Know, O king (but Allah alone knoweth His secret purpose and is versed in the past and the foredone among folk bygone) that there was once, in the parts of Khorasan, a man of its affluent, who was a merchant of the chiefest of the merchants523 and was blessed with two children, a son and a daughter.524 He was diligent exceedingly in rearing them and they were educated with the fairest of education; for he used to teach the boy, who taught his sister all that he learnt, so that, by means of her brother, the damsel became perfect in the knowledge of the Traditions of the Prophet and in polite letters. Now the boy’s name was Salím and that of the girl Salmá. When they grew up and were fully grown, their father built them a mansion beside his own and lodged them apart therein and appointed them slave-girls and servants to tend them and assigned to each of them pay and allowances and all that they needed of high and low; meat and bread; wine, dresses, and vessels and what not else. So Salim and Salma abode in that palace, as they were one soul in two bodies, and they used to sleep on one couch and rise amorn with single purpose, while firmly fixed in each one’s heart were fond affection and familiar friendship for the other. One night, when the half was spent, as Salim and Salma sat recounting and conversing, they heard a noise on the ground floor; so they looked out from a latticed casement which gave upon the gate of their father’s mansion and saw a man of fine presence, whose clothes were hidden under a wide cloak. He came straight up to the gate and laying hold of the door-ring, rapped a light rap; whereupon the door opened and behold, out came their sister, with a lighted taper, and after her their mother, who saluted the stranger and embraced him, saying, “O dearling of my heart and light of mine eyes and fruit of my vitals, enter.” So he went in and shut the door, whilst Salim and Salma abode amazed. The youth turned to the girl and said to her, “O sister mine, how deemest thou of this trouble and what advice hast thou to offer?” She replied, “O my brother, indeed I know not what I shall say anent the like of this; but he is not disappointed who divine direction seeketh, nor doth he repent who counsel taketh. One getteth not the better of the traces of burning by haste, and know that this is an affliction that hath descended525 on us and a calamity foreordained to us; so we have need of wise rede to do it away and contrivance which shall wash our shame from our faces.” And they ceased not watching the gate till daybreak, when the young man opened the door and their mother farewelled him; after which he went his way and she entered, she and her handmaid. Hereat said Salim to his sister, “Know thou I am resolved to slay this man, an he return the next night, and I will say to the folk, He was a robber, and none shall weet that which hath befallen. Then I will address myself to the slaughter of whosoever knoweth what is between the fellow and my mother.” But Salma said, “I fear lest an thou slay him in our dwelling-place and he be not convicted of robberhood, suspicion and ill-fame will revert upon ourselves, and we cannot be assured that he belongeth not to a tribe whose mischief is to be feared and whose enmity is to be dreaded, and thus wilt thou have fled from hidden shame to open shame and to disgrace public and abiding.” Asked Salim: “What then is it thy rede to do?” And she answered, “Is there no help but thou kill him? Let us not hasten unto slaughter, for that the slaughter of a soul without just cause is a mighty grave matter.” When Shahbán526 heard this, he said within himself, “By Allah, I have indeed been hasty and reckless in the slaying of women and girls, and Alhamdolillah — lauded be the Lord — who hath occupied me with this damsel from the slaughter of souls, for that the slaughter of souls is a grave matter and a grievous! By the Almighty if Shah Bakht spare the Wazir, I will assuredly spare Sháhrázád!”527 Then he gave ear to the story and heard her say to her sister:— Quoth Salma to Salim, “Hasten not to slay him, but overthink the matter and consider the issue whereto it may tend; for whoso considereth not of actions the end hath not Fortune to friend.” Then they arose on the morrow and busied themselves with contriving how they should turn away their parent from that man, and the mother forefelt mischief from them, for what she saw in their eyes of change, she being wily and keen of wit. So she took precaution for herself against her children and Salma said to Salim, “Thou seest what we have fallen upon through this woman, and very sooth she hath sensed our purpose and wotteth that we have discovered her secret. So, doubtless, she will plot against us the like of that which we plot for her; for indeed up to now she had concealed her affair, and from this time forth she will become harsh to us; wherefore, methinks, there is a thing forewritten to us, whereof Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) knew in His foreknowledge and wherein He carrieth out His commandments.” He asked, “What is that?” and she answered, “It is that we arise, I and thou, and go forth this night from this land and seek us a town wherein we may wone and witness naught of the doings of yonder traitress; for whoso is absent from the eye is absent from the heart, and quoth one of the poets in the following couplet:528—
’Tis happiest, best for thee, the place to leave,
For then no eye can see, nor heart can grieve.”
Quoth Salim to her,529 “’Tis for thee to decide and right is thy rede; so let us do this, in the name of Allah the Almighty, trusting in Him for guiding and grace.” Accordingly they arose and took the richest of their raiment and the lightest of that which was in their treasuries of gems and things of price and gathered together much matter. Then they equipped them ten mules and hired them servants of other than the people of the country; and Salim bade his sister Salma don man’s dress. Now she was the likest of all creatures to him, so that, when she was clad in man’s clothing, the folk knew no difference between them — extolled be the perfection of Him who hath no like, there is no god but He! Then he told her to mount a mare, whilst he himself took another, and they set out under cover of the night; nor did any of their family or household know of them. So they fared on into Allah’s wide world and gave not over going night and day for a space of two months, at the end of which they came to a city on the sea-shore of the land of Makran,530 by name Al-Sharr, and it is the first city in Sind.531 They lighted down within sight of the place and when they arose in the morning, they saw a populous city and a goodly, seemly of semblance and great, abounding in trees and rills and fruits and wide of suburbs which stretched to the neighbouring villages. So the young man said to his sister Salma, “Tarry thou here in thy place, till I enter the city and make proof of it and its people and seek us out a stead which we may buy and whereto we may remove. An it befit us, we will make us a home therein, otherwise will we take counsel of departing elsewhere.” Quoth she, “Do this, trusting in the bounty of Allah (to whom belong honour and glory) and in His blessing.” Accordingly he took a belt, wherein were a thousand gold pieces, and girding it about his waist, entered the city and ceased not going round about its streets and bazars and gazing upon its houses and sitting with those of its citizens whose aspect showed signs of worth and wealth, till the day was half spent, when he resolved to return to his sister and said to himself, “Needs must I buy what we may eat of ready-cooked food; I and my sister.” Hereupon he addressed a man who sold roast meat and who was clean of person, albe foul in his way of getting a living, and said to him, “Take the price of this dishful and add thereto of fowls and chickens and what not else is in your market of meats and sweetmeats and bread and arrange it in the plates.” So the Kitchener took the money and set apart for him what he desired, then calling a porter, he laid it in the man’s crate, and Salim, after paying the price of provisions and porterage in fullest fashion, was about to go away, when the Cook said to him, “O youth, doubtless thou art a stranger?” He replied, “Yes;” and the other rejoined, “’Tis reported in one of the Traditions that the Apostle said, Loyal admonition is a part of religion; and the wise and ware have declared counsel is of the characteristics of True Believers. And verily that which I have seen of thy ways pleaseth me and I would fain give thee a warning.” Rejoined Salim, “Speak out thy warning, and may Allah strengthen thy purpose!” Then said the Cook, “Know, O my son, that in this our city, when a stranger entereth and eateth of flesh-meat and drinketh not old wine upon it, ’tis harmful to him and disturbeth his body with disorders which be dangerous. Wherefore, an thou have provided thee somewhat of wine it is well, but, if not, haste to procure it, ere thou take the meat and carry it away.” Quoth Salim, “Allah requite thee with weal — Canst thou shew me where liquor is sold?” and quoth the Cook, “With me is all thou seekest. The youth asked, “Is there a way for me to see it?” and the Cook sprang up and answered, “Pass on.” So he entered and the man showed him somewhat of wine; but he said, “I desire better than this;” whereupon he opened a door and entering, said to Salim, Come in, and follow me.” Accordingly Salim followed him till he brought him to an underground chamber and showed him somewhat of wine that suited him. So he occupied him with looking at it and taking him unawares, sprang upon him from behind and threw him to the ground and sat upon his breast. Then he drew a knife and set it to his jugular; whereupon there betided Salim that wherewith Allah made him forget all that He had decreed to him,532 and he cried to the Cook, “Why dost thou this thing, O good fellow? Be mindful of the Almighty and fear Him. Seest thou not I am a stranger man? And knowest thou not I have behind me a forlorn defenceless533 woman? Wherefore wilt thou kill me?” Quoth the Kitchener, “Needs must I kill thee, so I may take thy money;” and quoth Salim, “Take my money, but kill me not, neither enter into sin against me; and do with me kindness, for indeed the taking of my coin is more venial than the taking of my life.” The Cook replied, “This is nonsense. Thou canst not deliver thyself herewith, O youth, because in thy deliverance is my destruction.” Cried Salim, “I swear to thee and give thee the bond of Allah (to whom belong honour and glory) and His covenant, which He took of His prophets that I will not discover thy secret; no, never.” But the Kitchener replied, “Away! Away! Alas! Alas! To this there is no path.” However, Salim ceased not to conjure him and humble himself to him and weep, while the Cook persisted in his intent to cut his throat: then he shed tears and recited these couplets;534
“Haste not to that thou dost desire, for haste is still unblest;
Be merciful to men, as thou on mercy reckonest:
For no hand is there but the hand of God is over it
And no oppressor but shall be with worse than he opprest.”
Quoth the Kitchener, “There is no help save that I slay thee, O fellow; for an I spare thee, I shall myself be slain.” But Salim said, “O my brother, I will advise thee somewhat535 other than this.” Asked the Cook, “What is it? Say and be brief, ere I cut thy throat;” and Salim answered, “Suffer me to live and keep me as thy Mameluke, thy white slave, and I will work at a craft of the skilled workmen, wherefrom there shall result to thee every day two dinars.” Quoth the Kitchener, “What is the craft?” and quoth Salim, “The cutting of gems and jewels.” When the man heard this, he said to himself, “’Twill do me no hurt if I imprison him and fetter him and bring him that whereat he may work. An he tell truth, I will let him live, and if he prove a liar, I will kill him.” So he took a pair of stout shackles and fitting them on Salim’s legs, jailed him within his house and charged a man to guard him. Then he asked him what tools he needed for work; and Salim described to him whatso he required, and the Cook went out from him awhile and brought him all he wanted. Then Salim sat and wrought at his craft; and he used every day to earn two dinars; and this was his wont and custom with the Kitchener, who fed him not but half his fill. Thus befel it with Salim; but returning to his sister Salma, she awaited him till the last of the day, yet he appeared not; and she expected him a second day and a third and a fourth, yet there came no news of him. So she wept and beat hand on breast and bethought her of her affair and her strangerhood and the disappearance of her brother; and she improvised these couplets —
“Salam t’you! Would I could see you again,
To the joy of my heart and the coolth of my eyes:
You are naught but my hope and the whole of my hope
And under my ribs536 love for you buried lies.”
She tarried on this wise awaiting him till the end of the month, but no tidings of him came nor happened she upon aught of his trace; wherefore she was troubled with exceeding trouble and sending her servants hither and thither in search of him, abode in the sorest that might be of chagrin and concern. When it was the beginning of the new month, she arose in the morning and bidding one of her men cry her brother throughout the city, sat to receive visits of condolence, nor was there any in town but made act of presence to condole with her; and they were all sorry for her, doubting not her being a man. When three nights had passed over her with their days of the second month, she despaired of him and her tears never dried: then she resolved to take up her abode in that city, and making choice of a dwelling, removed thither. The folk resorted to her from all parts, to sit with her and hear her speech and witness her fine breeding; nor was it but a little while ere the king died and the folk differed anent whom they should invest with the kingship after him, so that civil war was like to befal them. However, the men of judgment and the folk of understanding and the people of experience directed them to crown the youth who had lost his brother, for that they still held Salma to be a man. They consented to this one and all; and, betaking themselves to her, offered the kingship.537 She refused, but they were urgent with her, till she consented, saying within herself, “My sole desire in the kingship is to find my brother.” Then they seated her upon the throne of the realm and set the crown upon her head, after which she undertook the business of governance and ordinance of affairs; and they rejoiced in her with the utmost joy. On such wise fared it with her; but as for Salim he abode with the Cook a whole year’s space, bringing him two dinars a day; and when his affair waxed longsome, the man felt for him and pitied him. Presently he promised him release on condition that, if he let him go, he should not discover his illdeeds to the Sultan; for that it was his wont now and then to entrap a man and carry him to his house and slay him and take his money and cook his flesh and give it to the folk to eat.538 So he asked him, “O youth, wilt thou that I release thee from this thy misery, on condition that thou be reasonable and never discover aught of thine affair?” Salim answered, “I will swear to thee by whatsoever oath thou wilt administer that I will keep thy secret and will not speak one syllable anent thee, what while l am in the land of the living.” Quoth the Kitchener, “I purpose to send thee forth with my brother and cause thee voyage with him over the sea, on condition that thou be to him a Mameluke, a boughten slave; and when he cometh to the land of Hind, he shall sell thee and thus wilt thou be delivered from prison and slaughter.” And quoth Salim, “’Tis well: be it as thou sayst, may Allah the Most High requite thee with weal!” Accordingly the Cook equipped his brother and freighting him a craft, stowed therein a cargaison of merchandise. Then he committed Salim to him and they set out with the ship. The Lord decreed them safety, so that they arrived at the first city of Hind, which is known as AlMansúrah,539 and cast anchor there. Now the king of that city had died, leaving a daughter and a widow who, being the quickest-witted of women and cleverest of the folk of her day, gave out that the girl was a boy, so that the kingship might be established unto them. The troops and the Emirs gave credit that the case was as she avouched and that the Princess was a Prince; wherefore they obeyed her bidding and the Queenmother took order for the matter and used to dress the girl in man’s habit and seat her on the throne of the kingship, so that the Lords of the land and the chief officers of the realm used to go in to her and salute her and do her service and depart, nothing doubting but she was a boy. After this fashion they fared for months and years and the Queen-mother ceased not to do thus till the Cook’s brother came to the town in his ship, and with him Salim. He landed with the youth and displayed him for sale to the Queen who, when she saw him, prognosticated well of him; presently she bought him and was kind to him and entreated him with honour. Then began she to prove him in his moral parts and make assay of him in his affairs, and she found in him all that is in kings’ sons of understanding and fine breeding and good manners and qualities. Thereupon she sent for him in private and said to him, “I am minded to do thee a service, so thou canst keep a secret.”540 He promised her all that she desired and she discovered to him her mystery in the matter of her daughter, saying, “I will marry thee to her and commit to thee the governance and constitute thee king and ruler over this city.” He thanked her and promised to carry out all she should order him, and she said to him, “Go forth to such-an-one of the neighbouring provinces privily.” So he went forth and on the morrow she made ready loads and gear and gifts and bestowed on him abundant substance, all of which they loaded on the backs of baggage-camels. Then she gave out among the folk that the nephew of the king, the son of his brother, was come and bade the Grandees and troops go forth to meet him in a body: she also decorated the city in his honour and the kettle-drums of good tidings beat for him whilst all the king’s household went out and dismounting before him, escorted him into, and lodged him with the Queen-mother in the palace. Then she bade the Headmen of the state attend his assembly; so they obeyed and witnessed of his breeding and good parts that which amazed them and made them forget the breeding of the kings who had preceded him. When they were grown to like him, the Queenmother began sending privily for the Emirs and Councillors, one by one, and swearing them to conceal her project; and when she was assured of their discretion, she discovered to them that the king had left naught save a daughter and that she had done this only that she might continue the kingship in his family and that the rule should not go forth from them; after which she informed them that she was minded to marry her daughter with her nephew, the new-comer; and that he should be the holder of the kingship. They approved her proposal and when she had discovered the secret to the last of them and assured herself of their aid, she published the news abroad and threw off all concealment. Then she sent for the Kazis and Assessors, who drew up the contract of marriage between Salim and the Princess, and they lavished gifts upon the soldiery and overwhelmed them with largesse. The bride was incontinently carried in procession to the young man and the kingship was established to him. They tarried after this fashion a whole year when Salim said to the Queen-mother, “Know that my life is not pleasing to me nor can I abide with you in content till I get me tidings of my sister and learn how her affair hath ended and how she hath fared after me. So I will go forth and be absent from you a year’s space; then will I return to you, Inshallah — an it please God the Most High — and I win of this that which I hope.” Quoth she, “I will not trust to thy word, but will go with thee and help thee to whatso thou wishest and further thee myself therein.” Then she took a ship and loaded it with all manner things of price, goods and monies and the like. Furthermore, she appointed one of the Wazirs, a man in whom she trusted for his conduct and contrivance, to rule the realm, saying to him, “Abide in governance a full year and ordain all thou needest.” Presently the Queenmother and her daughter and son-in-law Salim went down to the ship and sailed on till they made the land of Makran. Their arrival there befel at the last of the day; so they nighted in their ship, and when the morn was near to dawn, the young king landed, that he might go to the Hammam, and walked marketwards. As he drew near the bath, the Cook met him on the way and knew him; so he seized him and pinioning him straitly, carried him to his house, where he clapped the old fetters on his feet and cast him back into his former place of durance vile.541 Salim, finding himself in that sorry condition and considering that wherewith he was afflicted of tribulation and the reverses of his fair fortune, in that he had been a king and was now returned to fetters and prison and hunger, wept and groaned and lamented and improvised these couplets,
“My God, no patience now can aid afford;
Strait is my breast, O Thou of Lords the Lord:
My God, who in resource like thine hath force?
And Thou, the Subtle, dost my case record.”
On this wise fared it with Salim; but as regards his wife and her mother, when she awoke in the morning and her husband returned not to her with break of dawn, she forebode all manner of calamity and, straightway arising, she despatched her servants and all who were with her in quest of her spouse; but they happened not on any trace of him nor could they hear aught of his news. So she bethought herself concerning the case and plained and wept and groaned and sighed and blamed Fortune the fickle, bewailing the changes of Time and reciting these couplets,542
“God keep the days of love-delight! How passing sweet they were!
How joyous and how solaceful was life in them whilere!
Would he were not, who sundered us upon the parting-day!
How many a body hath he slain, how many a bone laid bare!
Sans fault of mine, my blood and tears he shed and beggared me
Of him I love yet for himself gained nought thereby whate’er.”
When she had made an end of her verses, she considered her affair and said within herself, “By Allah, all these things have betided by the predestination of Almighty Allah and His decree and this upon the forehead was written in lines.” Then she landed and walked on till she came to a spacious place, and an open, where she asked of the folk and hired a house. Thither she transported forthright all that was in the ship of goods and sending after brokers, sold all that was with her. Presently she took part of the price and began enquiring of the folk, so haply she might scent out tidings of the lost one; and she addressed herself to lavishing alms and preparing medicines for the sick, clothing the naked and watering the dry ground543 of the forlorn. She ceased not so doing a whole year, and little by little she sold off her goods and gave charitable gifts to the sick and sorry; whereby her report was bruited abroad in the city and the folk abounded in her praise. All this while Salim lay in fetters and strait prison, and melancholy gat hold of him by reason of that whereinto he had fallen of this affliction. At last, when care waxed on him and calamity grew longsome, he fell sick of a sore sickness. Then the Kitchener, seeing his plight (and verily he was like to sink for much suffering), loosed him from the fetters and bringing him forth of the prison, committed him to an old woman, who had a nose the bigness of a gugglet,544 and bade her nurse him and medicine him and serve him and entreat him kindly, so haply he might be made whole of that his sickness. Accordingly the old woman took him and carrying him to her lodging, began nursing him and giving him to eat and drink; and when he was delivered of that torment, he recovered from the malady which had afflicted him. Now the old woman had heard from the folk of the lady who gave alms to the sick, and indeed the news of her bounties reached both poor and rich; so she arose and bringing out Salim to the door of her house, laid him upon a mat and wrapped him in an Abá-gown and sat over against him. Presently, it befel that the lady passed by them, and the old woman seeing her rose to her and blessed her, saying, “O my daughter, O thou to whom belong goodness and beneficence and charity and almsdoing,545 know that this young man is a foreigner, and indeed lack and lice and hunger and nakedness and cold slay him.” When the lady heard this, she gave her alms and presented her with a part of that which was with her; and indeed her charitable heart inclined to Salim, but she knew him not for her spouse. The old woman received the alms from her and carrying it to Salim, took part for herself and with the rest bought him an old shirt,546 in which she clad him, after she had stripped him of that he had on. Then she threw away the frock she had taken from off him and arising forthwith, washed his body of that which was thereon of grime and scented him with somewhat of scent. She also bought chickens and made him broth; so he ate and his life returned to him and he abode with her in all comfort of condition till the morrow. Next morning the old woman said to Salim, “When the lady cometh to thee, arise and buss her hand and say to her, ‘I am a homeless man and indeed cold and hunger kill me;’ so haply she may give thee somewhat that thou mayest expend upon thy case.” And he answered, “To hear is to obey.” Then she took him by the hand and carrying him without her house, seated him at the door; and as he sat, behold, the lady came up to him, whereupon the old woman rose to her and Salim kissed her hand and, looking at her the while, blessed her. But when he saw her, he knew her for his wife; so he shrieked and shed tears and groaned and plained, at which she came up to him and threw herself upon him; for indeed she knew him with all knowledge, even as he knew her. So she hung to him and embraced him and called to her serving-men and attendants and those who were about her; and they took him up and carried him forth of that stead. When the old woman saw this, she cried out to the Cook within the house, and he said to her, “Fare thou before me.” So she forewent him and he ran after her and ceased not running till he overtook the party and seizing Salim, exclaimed “What aileth you to take my slave-lad?” Whereupon the Queen cried out at him, saying, “Know that this is my husband, whom I had lost;” and Salim also cried out, saying, “Mercy! Mercy! I appeal to Allah and to the Sultan against this Satan!” Therewith a world of folk straightway gathered together and loud rose the cries and the clamours between them; but the most part of them said, “Carry their case up to the Sultan.” So they referred the matter to the king, who was none other than Salim’s sister Salma. Then they repaired to the palace and the dragoman went in to Salma and said to her, “O king of the age, here is a Hindi woman, who cometh from the land of Hind, and she hath laid hands on a servant, a young man, claiming him as her husband, who hath been lost to her these two years, and she journeyed not hither save for his sake, and in very sooth these many days she hath done almsdeeds in thy city. And here is a fellow, a Kitchener, who declareth that the young man is his slave.”547 When the Queen heard these words, her vitals quivered and she groaned from a grieving heart and called to mind her brother and that which had betided him. Then she bade those around her bring them between her hands, and when she saw them, she knew her brother and was about to cry aloud; but her reason restrained her; yet she could not prevent herself rising up and sitting down.548 At last, however, she enforced her soul to patience and said to them, “Let each and every of you acquaint me with his case.” So Salim came forward and kissing ground before the king, lauded him and related to him his story from first to last, until the time of their coming to that city, he and his sister, telling him how he had entered the place and had fallen into the hands of the Cook and that which had betided him and whatso he had suffered from him of beating and collars, of fetters and pinioning, till the man had made him his brother’s Mameluke, a boughten slave, and how the brother had sold him in Hind and he had become king by marrying the Princess: and how life was not lovesome to him till he should foregather with his sister and now the same Cook bad fallen in with him a second time and had pinioned and fettered him. Brief, he acquainted her with that which had betided him of sickness and sorrow for the space of a whole year. When he had made an end of his speech, his wife straightways came forward and told her story, from incept to termination, how her mother bought him549 from the Cook’s partner and the people of the kingdom came under his rule; nor did she cease telling till she came, in her history, to that city and acquainted the king with the manner of her meeting her husband. When she had made an end of her adventure, the Kitchener exclaimed, “Alack, what befals us from lying rascals. By Allah, O king, this woman lieth against me, for this youth is my rearling550 and he was born of one of my slave-girls. He fled from me and I found him again.” When the Queen heard the last of the talk, she said to the Cook, “The decree between you shall not be save in accordance with justice.” Then she dismissed all those who were present and turning to her brother, said to him, “Indeed thy truth is stablished with me and the sooth of thy speech, and praised be Allah who hath brought about reunion between thee and thy wife! So now begone with her to thy country and cease to seek thy sister Salma and depart in peace.” But, hearing this, Salim replied, “By Allah, by the might of the All-knowing King, I will not turn back from seeking my sister till I die or I find her, Inshallah!” Then he called his sister to mind and improvised from a heart disappointed, troubled, afflicted these couplets,
“O thou who blam’st me for my heart, in anger twitting me,
Hadst tasted what my heart did taste, thou wouldst be pitying me!
By Allah, O my chider for my sister leave, ah! leave
My heart to moan its grief and feel the woes befitting me.
Indeed I grew to hold her dear privily, publicly;
And in my bosom bides a pang at no time quitting me;
And in my vitals burns a flame that ne’er was equalled by
The fire of hell and blazeth high to Death committing me.”
Now when his sister Salma heard what he said, she could no longer restrain her soul, but threw herself upon him and discovered to him her case. When he knew her, he threw himself upon her swooning awhile; after which he came to himself and cried, “Lauded be the Lord, the Bountiful, the Beneficent!” Then they plained each to other of that they had suffered from the pangs of parting, whilst Salim’s wife wondered at this and Salma’s patience and endurance pleased her. So she saluted her with the Salam, and thanked her for her fair boons, saying, “By Allah, O my lady, all that we are in of gladness never befel us save by thy blessing; so praised be Allah who deigned vouchsafe us thy sight!” Then they tarried all three, Salma, Salim and his wife, in joy and happiness and delight three days, veiled from the folk; and it was bruited abroad in the city that the king had found his brother, who was lost for many a year, and had saved him from the Cook’s house. On the fourth day, all the troops and the lieges assembled together to see the King and standing at his gate, craved leave to enter. Salma bade admit them; so they entered and paid her royal suit and service and gave her joy of her brother’s safe return. She bade them do homage to Salim, and they consented and sware fealty to him; after which they kept silence awhile, so they might hear what the king should command. Then quoth Salma, “Ho, ye gathering of soldiers and subjects, ye wot that ye forced me willy-nilly to accept the kingship and besought me thereof and I consented to your desires anent my being raised to rule over you; and I did this against my will; for I would have you know that I am a woman and that I disguised myself and donned man’s dress, so peradventure my case might be concealed when I lost my brother. But now Allah hath deigned reunite me with my brother, and it is no longer lawful to me that I be king and Sultan over the people, and I a woman; because there is no Sultanate for women, whenas men are present.551 For this reason, an it suit you, set my brother on the throne of the kingdom, for this is he; and I will busy myself with the worship of Allah the Most High and thanksgiving to Him for my reunion with my brother. Or, an ye prefer it, take your kingship and make whom ye will ruler and liege lord thereof.” Upon this the folk all cried out, saying, “We accept him to king over us;” and they did him suit and service and gave him joy of the kingship. So the preachers preached the sermon552 in his name and the court-poets praised him; and he lavished largesse upon the soldiery and the suite and overwhelmed them with favours and bounties and was prodigal to the Ryots of justice and equity, with goodly policy and polity. When he had effected this much of his affect, he caused bring forth the Cook and his household to the divan, but spared the old woman who had nursed him, because she had been the cause of his deliverance. Then all assembled without the town and he tormented the Cook and those who were with him with all manner torments, after which he did him to die by the foulest of deaths553 and burning him with fire, scattered his ashes far and wide in the air. After this Salim abode in the governance, invested with the Sultanate, and ruled the people a whole year, when he returned to Al-Mansúrah and sojourned there another year. And he and his wife ceased not to go from city to city and tarry in this a year and that a year, till he was vouchsafed children and they grew up, whereupon he appointed him of his sons, who was found fitting, to be his deputy in one kingdom and he ruled in the other; and he lived, he and his wife and children, what while Almighty Allah willed.554 “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “O King of the age, is this story rarer or stranger than the King of Hind and his wronged and envied Minister.” When the King heard this, his mind was occupied,555 and he bade the Wazir hie to his own house.
523 Arab. from Pers. Khwájah and Khawáját: see vol. vi. 46.
524 Probably meaning by one mother whom he loved best of all his wives: in the next page we read of their sister.
525 Come down, i.e. from heaven.
526 This is the Bresl. Edit.’s form of Shahryár=city-keeper (like Marzbán, guardian of the Marches), for city-friend. The learned Weil has preferred it to Shahryár.
527 Sic: in the Mac. Edit. “Shahrázád” and here making nonsense of the word. It is regretable that the king’s reflections do not run at times as in this text: his compunctions lead well up to the dénoûement.
528 The careless text says “couplets.” It has occurred in vol. i. 149: so I quote Torrens (p. 149).
529 In the text Salma is made to speak, utterly confusing the dialogue.
530 The well-known Baloch province beginning west of Sind: the term is supposed to be a corruption of Máhí-Khorán=Ichthyophagi. The reader who wishes to know more about it will do well to consult “Unexplored Baluchistan,” etc. (Griffith and Farran, 1882), the excellent work of my friend Mr. Ernest A. Floyer, long Chief of the Telegraphic Department, Cairo.
531 Meaning the last city in Makran before entering Sind. Al-Sharr would be a fancy name, “The Wickedness.”
532 i.e. think of nothing but his present peril.
533 Arab. “Munkati’ah”=lit. “cut off” (from the weal of the world). See Pilgrimage i. 22.
534 The lines are in vol. i. 207 and iv. 189. 1 here quote Mr. Payne.
535 I have another proposal to make.
536 i.e. In my heart’s core: the figure has often occurred.
537 These sudden elevations, so common in the East and not unknown to the West in the Napoleonic days, explain how the legend of “Joanna Papissa” (Pope John XIII), who succeeded Leo IV. in A.D. 855 and was succeeded by Benedict III., found ready belief amongst the enemies of papacy. She was an English woman born in Germany who came to Rome and professed theology with éclat, wherefore the people enthroned her. “Pope Joan” governed with exemplary wisdom, but during a procession on Rogation Sunday she was delivered of a fine boy in the street: some make her die on the spot; others declare that she perished in prison.
538 That such things should happen in times of famine is only natural; but not at other seasons. This abomination on the part of the butcher is, however, more than once alluded toin The Nights: see vol. i. 332.
539 Opinions differ as to the site of this city, so celebrated in the mediæval history of Al-Islam: most probably it stood where Hyderabad of Sind now is. The question has been ably treated by Sir Henry M. Elliot in his “History of India,” edited from his posthumous papers by Professor Dowson.
540 Which, by-the-by, the average Eastern does with even more difficulty than the average European. For the most part the charge to secrecy fixes the matter in his mind even when he has forgotten that it is to be kept secret. Hence the most unpleasant results.
541 Such an act appears impossible, and yet history tells us of a celebrated Sufi, Khayr al-Nassáj (the Weaver), who being of dark complexion was stopped on return from his pilgrimage at Kufah by a stranger that said, “Thou art my negro slave and thy name is Khayr.” He was kept at the loom for years, till at last the man set him free, and simply said, “Thou wast not my slave” (Ibn Khall. i. 513).
542 These lines have occurred before. I quote Mr. Payne for variety.
543 Arab. “Tasill saliata ’l-Munkat’ín”=lit. “raining on the drouth-hardened earth of the cut-off.” The metaphor is admissible in the eyes of an Arab who holds water to be the chiefest of blessings, and makes it synonymous with bounty and beneficence.”
544 Possibly this is said in mere fun; but, as Easterns are practical physiognomists, it may hint the fact that a large nose in womankind is the sign of a masculine nature.
545 Arab. “Zakát wa Sadakat,”=lit. paying of poor rate and purifying thy property by almsdeeds. See vol. i. 339.
546 I have noted (i. 293) that Kamís (O4Jf<, Chemise, Cameslia, Camisa) is used in the Hindostani and Bengali dialects. Like its synonyms prætexta and shift, it has an equivocal meaning and here probably signifies the dress peculiar to Arab devotees and devout beggars.
547 I omit here and elsewhere the parenthetical formula “Kála al-Ráwi,” etc.=The Story-teller sayeth, reminding the reader of its significance in a work collected from the mouths of professional Tale-tellers and intended mainly for their own use.
548 The usual sign of emotion, already often mentioned.
549 It being no shame to Moslems if a slave become King.
550 Arab. “Tarbiyatí,” i.e., he was brought up in my house.
551 There is no Salic law amongst Moslems; but the Rasm or custom of AlIslam, established by the succession of the four first Caliphs, to the prejudice of Ayishah and other masterful women would be a strong precedent against queenly rule. It is the reverse with the Hindus who accept a Rani as willingly as a Rajah and who believe with Europeans that when kings reign women rule, and vice versa. To the vulgar Moslem feminine government appears impossible, and I was once asked by an Afghan, “What would happen if the queen were in childbed?”
552 Arab. “Khutbah,” the sermon preached from the pulpit (Mimbar) after the congregational prayers on Friday noon. It is of two kinds, for which see Lane, M.E., chap. iii. This public mention of his name and inscribing it upon the newly-minted money are the special prerogatives of the Moslem king: hence it often happens that usurpers cause a confusion of Khutbah and coinage.
553 For a specimen of which, blowing a man up with bellows, see Al-Mas’udi, chap. cxxiii.
554 i.e. a long time: the idiom has been noted before more than once.
555 i.e. with what he had heard and what he was promised.
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Minister and bade him tell the story of the King of Hind and his Wazir. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O auspicious King, to
There was once in the Hind-land a king illustrious of worth, endowed with understanding and policy, and his name was Shah Bakht. He had a Minister, a godly man and a sagacious, right prudent in rede, conformable to him in governance and just in judgment; for which cause his enviers were many and many were the hypocrites who sought faults in him and set snares for him, so that they insinuated into King Shah Bakht’s eyes hatred against him and sowed in his heart despite towards him; and plot followed plot, and their rancour waxed until the king was brought to arrest him and lay him in jail and to confiscate his wealth and degrade him from his degree. When they knew that there was left him no possession for which the king might lust, they feared lest the sovran release him, by the influence of the Wazir’s good counsel upon the king’s heart, and he return to his former case, so should their machinations be marred and their degrees degraded, for that they knew that the king would heed whatso he had known from that man nor would forget aught wherewith he was familiar in him. Now it came to pass that a certain person of perverted belief556 found a way to the adorning of falsehood with a semblance of fair-seeming and there proceeded from him that whereby the hearts of the folk were occupied, and their minds were corrupted by his lying tales; for that he made use of Indian quiddities557 and forged them into proof for the denial of the Maker the Creator, extolled be His might and exalted be He and glorified and magnified above the speech of the deniers. He avouched that it is the planets which order all worldly affairs and he set down twelve mansions558 to twelve Zodiacal signs and made each sign thirty degrees,559 after the number of the days of the month, so that in twelve mansions there are three hundred and sixty, after the number of the days of the year; and he wrought a work, wherein he lied and was an infidel and denied the Deity, be He for ever blessed! Then he laid hold of the king’s heart and the enviers and haters aided him against the Minister and won the royal favour and corrupted his intent against the Wazir, so that he got of him that which he got and at last his lord banished him and thrust him away. By such means the wicked man obtained that which he sought of the Minister and the case was prolonged till the affairs of the kingdom became disordered, by dint of ill government, and the most part of the king’s reign fell off from him and he came nigh unto ruin. On this wise he was assured of the loyalty of his whilome, sagacious Wazir and the excellence of his ordinance and the rectitude of his rede. So he sent after him and brought him and the wicked man before him and summoning to his presence the Lords of his land and the Chiefs of his chieftainship, gave them leave to talk and dispute and forbade the wicked man from his perverted belief. 560 Then arose that wise Minister and skilful and praised Allah Almighty and lauded Him and glorified Him and hallowed Him and attested His unity and disputed with the miscreant and overcame him and silenced him; nor did he cease from him till he compelled him to make confession of repentance from that which he had misbelieved. Therewith King Shah Bakht rejoiced with exceeding great joy and cried, “Praise be to the Lord who hath saved me from this man and hath preserved me from the loss of my kingship and my prosperity!” So the affair of the Wazir returned to order and stablishment and the king restored him to his place and raised him to higher rank. Lastly, he assembled the folk who had striven against him and destroyed them all, to the last man. “And how like” (continued the Wazir), “is this story to that of myself and King Shah Bakht, with regard to that which befel me of the changing of the King and his crediting others against me; but now is the fairness of my fashion fulfilled in thine eyes, for that Allah Almighty hath inspired thee with wisdom and endowed thee with longanimity and patience to hear from me whatso He allotted to those who forewent us, till He hath shown forth my innocence and made manifest unto thee the truth. For lo and behold! the days are now past, wherein it was declared to the king that I should labour for the loss of my soul,561 that is within the month; and lookye, the probation-time is gone by, and past is the season of evil and it hath ceased by the protection of the King and his good fortune.” Then he bowed his head and was silent. When King Shah Bakht heard his Wazir’s speech, he was abashed before him and confounded, and he marvelled at the gravity of his intellect and his long-suffering. So he sprang up to him and embraced him and the Minister kissed his feet. Then the King called for a costly robe of honour and cast it over Al-Rahwan and honoured him with the highmost honour and showed him especial favour and restored him to his degree and Wazirate. Furthermore he imprisoned those who had devised his destruction with lies and leasing and gave him full leave and license to pass judgment upon the Interpreter who had expounded to him the dream. So the Wazir abode in the ordering of the realm until Death came to them; “And this” (added Shahrazad) “is all, O king of the age, that hath come down to us of King Shah Bakht and his Wazir.”
556 Arab. “Shakhs mafsúd,” i.e. an infidel.
557 Arab. “Bunúd,” plur. of Persian “band”=hypocrisy, deceit.
558 Arab. “Burúj” pl. of Burj. lit.=towers, an astrological term equivalent to our “houses” or constellations which form the Zodiacal signs surrounding the heavens as towers gird a city; and applied also to the 28 lunar Mansions. So in Al-Hariri (Ass. of Damascus) “I swear by the sky with its towers,” the incept of Koran chapt. lxxxv.; see also chapts. xv. 26 and xxv. 62. “Burj” is a word with a long history: Bbk(@H burg, burgh, etc.
559 Arab. “Bundukah”=a little bunduk, nut, filbert, pellet, rule, musket bullet.
560 See John Raister’s “Booke of the Seven Planets; or, Seven Wandering Motives,” London, 1598.
561 i.e. for the king whom I love as my own soul.
As for King Shahryar, he wondered at Shahrazad with the utmost wonder and drew her near to his heart of his abounding affection for her; and she was magnified in his eyes and he said within himself, “By Allah, the like of this is not deserving of slaughter, for indeed the time favoureth us not with her equal. By the Almighty, I have been reckless of mine affair, and had not the Lord overcome me with His ruth and put his one at my service so she might recount to me instances manifest and cases truthful and admonitions goodly and traits edifying, such as should restore me to the right road, I had come to ruin! Wherefore to Allah be the praise here for and I beseech the Most High to make my end with her like that of the Wazir and Shah Bakht.” Then sleep overcame the king and glory be unto Him who sleepeth not!562 When it was the Nine hundred and thirtieth Night, Shahrazad said, “O king, there is present in my thought a tale which treateth of women’s trickery and wherein is a warning to whoso will be warned and an admonishment to whoso will be admonished and whoso hath sight and insight; but I fear lest the hearing of this belittle me with the liege-lord and lower my degree in his esteem; yet I hope that this will not be, because ‘tis a rare tale. Women are indeed mischief-makers; their craft and their cunning may not be told nor may their wiles be known; while men enjoy their company and are not instant to uphold them in the right way, neither are they vigilant over them with all vigilance, but relish their society and take whatso is winsome and regard not that which is other than this. Indeed, they are like unto the crooked rib, which an thou go about to straighten, thou distortest it, and which an thou persist in straightening, thou breakest it,563 so it behoveth the wise man to be silent concerning them.” Thereupon quoth Dinarzad, “O sister mine, bring forth that which is with thee and that which is present to thy mind of the story concerning the guile of women and their wiles, and have no fear lest this lessen thee with the king; for that women are, like jewels, of all kinds and colours. When a gem falleth into the hand of an expert, he keepeth it for himself and leaveth all beside it. Eke he preferreth some of them over others, and in this he is like the potter,564 who filleth his liln with all the vessels he hath moulded and under them kindleth his fire. When the making is done and he taketh out that which is in the kiln, he findeth no help for it but that he must break some of them, whilst others are what the folk need and whereof they make use, while yet others there are which return to be as they were. So fear thou not nor deem it a grave matter to adduce that which thou knowest of the craft of women, for that in this is profit for all folk.” Then said Shahrazad, “Then relate, O king (but Allah alone knoweth the secret things) the Tale of–
562 The Bresl. Edit. (xi. 318-21) seems to assume that the tales were told in the early night before the royal pair slept. This is no improvement; we prefer to think that the time was before peep of day when Easterns usally awake and have nothing to do till the dawn-prayer.
563 See vol. ii. 161.
564 Arab. Al-Fákhir. No wonder that the First Hand who moulded the Man-mud is a lieu commun in Eastern thought. The Pot and the Potter began with the old Egyptians. “Sitting as a potter at the wheel, god Cneph (in Philæ) moulds clay, and gives the spirit of life (the Genesitic “breath”) to the nostrils of Osiris.” Then we meet him in the Vedas, the Being, “by whom the fictile vase is formed; the clay out of which it is fabricated.” We find him next in Jeremiah (xviii. 2) “Arise and go down unto the Potter’s house,” etc., and in Romans (ix. 20), “Hath not the Potter power over the clay?” He appears in full force in Omar-i-Khayyám (No. xxxvii.):—
For I remember stopping by the way
To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay:
An with its all obliterated Tongue
I murmur’d–“Gently, Brother, gently, pray!”
Lastly the Potter shows in the Kasidah of Hají Abdú al-Yezid (p.4):—
“The first of pots the Potter made by Chrysorrhoas’ blue-green wave;
Methinks I see him smile to see what guerdon to the world he gave.
To Henry Irving, Esq.
My Dear Irving,
To a consummate artist like yourself I need hardly suggest that The Nights still offers many avirgin mine to the Playwright; and I inscribe this volume to you, not only in admiration of your genius but in the hope that you will find means of exploiting the hidden wealth which awaits only your “Open, Sesame!”
Ever yours sincerely
Richard F. Burton.
London, August 1, 1886.
There was once in the climes2 of Egypt and the city of Cairo, under the Turks, a king of the valiant kings and the exceeding mighty Soldans, hight Al-Malik al-Záhir Rukn al-Din Bibars al-Bundukdári,3 who was used to storm the Islamite sconces and the strongholds of “The Shore”4 and the Nazarene citadels. His Chief of Police in the capital of his kingdom, was just to the folk, all of them; and Al-Malik al-Zahir delighted in stories of the common sort and of that which men purposed in thought; and he loved to see this with his own eyes and to hear their sayings with his own ears. Now it fortuned that he heard one night from a certain of his nocturnal reciters5 that among women are those who are doughtier than the doughtiest men and prower of prowess, and that among them are some who will engage in fight singular with the sword and others who beguile the quickest-witted of Walis and baffle them and bring down on them all manner of miseries; wherefore said the Soldan, “I would lief hear this of their legerdemain from one of those who have had to do with it, so I may hearken unto him and cause him discourse.” And one of the story-tellers said, “O king, send for the Chief of Police of this thy city.” Now ‘Alam al-Din6 Sanjar was at that time Wali and he was a man of experience, in affairs well versed; so the king sent for him and when he came before him, he discovered to him that which was in his mind. Quoth Sanjar, “I will do my endeavour for that which our lord seeketh.” Then he arose and returning to his house, summoned the Captains of the watch and the Lieutenants of the ward and said to them, “Know that I purpose to marry my son and make him a bridal banquet, and I desire that ye assemble, all of you, in one place. I also will be present, I and my company, and do ye relate that which you have heard of rare occurrences and that which hath betided you of experiences.” And the Captains and Runners and Agents of Police answered him, “’Tis well: Bismillah — in the name of Allah! We will make thee see all this with thine own eyes and hear it with thine own ears.” Then the Chief of Police arose and going up to Al-Malik al-Zahir, informed him that the assembly would meet on such a day at his house; and the Soldan said, “’Tis well,” and gave him somewhat of coin for his spending-money. When the appointed day came the Chief of Police set apart for his officers and constables a saloon, which had latticed casements ranged in order and giving upon the flower-garden, and Al-Malik al-Zahir came to him, and he seated himself and the Soldan, in the alcove. Then the tables were spread for them with food and they ate: and when the bowl went round amongst them and their souls were gladdened by meat and drink, they mutually related that which was with them and, revealed their secrets from concealment. The first to discourse was a man, a Captain of the Watch, hight Mu’ín al-Din7 whose heart was wholly occupied with the love of fair women; and he said, “Harkye, all ye people of high degree, I will acquaint you with an extraordinary affair which fortuned me aforetime.” Then he began to tell
1 Bresi. Edit., vol. xi. pp. 321-99, Nights dccccxxx-xl.
2 Arab. “Iklím” from the Gr. iëßìá, often used as amongst us (e.g. “other climes”) for land.
3 Bibars whose name is still famous and mostly pronounced “Baybars,” the fourth of the Baharite Mamelukes whom I would call the “Soldans.” Originally a slave of Al-Sálih, seventh of the Ayyubites, he rose to power by the normal process, murdering his predecessor, in A. D. 1260; and he pushed his conquests from Syria to Armenia. In his day “Saint” Louis died before Tunis (A. D. 1270).
4 There are sundry Sáhils or shore-lands. “Sahil Misr” is the River-side of Cairo often extended to the whole of Lower Egypt (vol. i. 290): here it means the lowlands of Palestine once the abode of the noble Philistines; and lastly the term extends to the sea-board of Zanzibar, where, however, it is mostly used in the plur. “Sawáhil”=the Shores.
5 Arab. “Sammár” (from Samar,=conversatio nocturna),=the story-teller who in camp or house whiles away the evening hours.
6 “Flag of the Faith:” Sanjar in old Persian=a Prince, a King.
7 “Aider of the Faith.”
Know ye that when I entered the service of this Emir,9 I had a great repute and every low fellow and lewd feared me most of all mankind, and when I rode through the city, each and every of the folk would point at me with their fingers and sign at me with their eyes. It happened one day, as I sat in the palace of the Prefecture, back-propped against a wall, considering in myself, suddenly there fell somewhat in my lap, and behold, it was a purse sealed and tied. So I hent it in hand and lo! it had in it an hundred dirhams,10 but I found not who threw it and I said, “Lauded be the Lord, the King of the Kingdoms!”11 Another day, as I sat in the same way, somewhat fell on me and startled me, and lookye, ’twas a purse like the first: I took it and hiding the matter, made as though I slept, albeit sleep was not with me. One day as I thus shammed sleep, I suddenly sensed in my lap a hand, and in it a purse of the finest; so I seized the hand and behold, ’twas that of a fair woman. Quoth I to her, “O my lady, who art thou?” and quoth she, “Rise and come away from here, that I may make myself known to thee.” Presently I rose up and following her, walked on, without tarrying, till we stopped at the door of a high-builded house, whereupon I asked her, “O my lady, who art thou? Indeed, thou hast done me kindness, and what is the reason of this?” She answered, “By Allah, O Captain12 Mu’in, I am a woman on whom love and longing are sore for desire of the daughter of the Kazi Amín al-Hukm.13 Now there was between me and her what was and fondness for her fell upon my heart and I agreed upon an assignation with her, according to possibility and convenience; but her father Amin al-Hukm took her and went away, and my heart cleaveth to her and yearning and distraction waxed sore upon me for her sake.” I said to her, marvelling the while at her words, “What wouldst thou have me do?” and said she, “O Captain Mu’in, I would have thee lend me a helping hand.” Quoth I, “Where am I and where is the daughter of the Kazi Amin al-Hukm?”14 and quoth she “Be assured that I would not have thee intrude upon the Kazi’s daughter, but I would fain work for the winning of my wishes. This is my will and my want which may not be wroughten save by thine aid.” Then she added, “I mean this night to go with heart enheartened and hire me bracelets and armlets and anklets of price; then will I hie me and sit in the street wherein is the house of Amin al-Hukm; and when ’tis the season of the round and folk are asleep, do thou pass, thou and those who are with thee of the men, and thou wilt see me sitting and on me fine raiment and ornaments and wilt smell on me the odour of Ottars; whereupon do thou question me of my case and I will say, ‘I hail from the Citadel and am of the daughters of the deputies15 and I came down into the town for a purpose; but night overtook me all unawares and the Zuwaylah Gate16 was shut against me and all the other portals and I knew not whither I should wend this night. Presently I saw this street and noting the goodly fashion of its ordinance and its cleanliness, I sheltered me therein against break of day.’ When I speak these words to thee with complete self-possession,17 the Chief of the watch will have no ill suspicion of me, but will say, ‘There’s no help but that we leave her with one who will take care of her till morning.’ Thereto do thou rejoin, “Twere best that she night with Amin al-Hukm and lie with his wives18 and children until dawn of day.’ Then straightway knock at the Kazi’s door, and thus shall I have secured admission into his house, without inconvenience, and won my wish; and — the Peace!” I said to her, “By Allah, this is an easy matter.” So, when the night was blackest, we rose to make our round, followed by men with girded swords, and went about the ways and compassed the city, till we came to the street19 where was the woman, and it was the middle of the night. Here we smelt mighty rich scents and heard the clink of rings: so I said to my comrades, “Methinks I espy a spectre;” and the Captain of the watch cried, “See what it is.” Accordingly, I undertook the work and entering the thoroughfare presently came out again and said, “I have found a fair woman and she telleth me that she is from the Citadel and that dark night surprised her and she saw this street and noting its cleanness and goodly fashion of ordinance, knew that it belonged to a great man20 and that needs must there be in it a guardian to keep watch over it, so she sheltered her therein.” Quoth the Captain of the watch to me, “Take her and carry her to thy house;” but quoth I, “I seek refuge with Allah!21 My house is no strong box22 and on this woman are trinkets and fine clothing. By Allah, we will not deposit the lady save with Amin al-Hukm, in whose street she hath been since the first starkening of the darkness; therefore do thou leave her with him till the break of day.” He rejoined, “Do whatso thou willest.” So I rapped at the Kazi’s gate and out came a black slave of his slaves, to whom said I, “O my lord, take this woman and let her be with you till day shall dawn, for that the lieutenant of the Emir Alam al-Din hath found her with trinkets and fine apparel on her, sitting at the door of your house, and we feared lest her responsibility be upon you;23 wherefore I suggested ’twere meetest she night with you.” So the chattel opened and took her in with him. Now when the morning morrowed, the first who presented himself before the Emir was the Kazi Amin al-Hukm, leaning on two of his negro slaves; and he was crying out and calling for aid and saying, “O Emir, crafty and perfidious, yesternight thou depositedst with me a woman and broughtest her into my house and home, and she arose in the dark and took from me the monies of the little orphans my wards,24 six great bags, each containing a thousand dinars,25 and made off; but as for me, I will say no syllable to thee except in the Soldan’s presence.”26 When the Wali heard these words, he was troubled and rose and sat down in his agitation; then he took the Judge and placing him by his side, soothed him and exhorted him to patience, till he had made an end of talk, when he turned to the officers and questioned them of that. They fixed the affair on me and said, “We know nothing of this matter but from Captain Mu’in al-Din.” So the Kazi turned to me and said, “Thou wast of accord to practice upon me with this woman, for she said she came from the Citadel.” As for me, I stood, with my head bowed ground-wards, forgetting both Sunnah and Farz,27 and remained sunk in thought, saying, “How came I to be the dupe of that randy wench?” Then cried the Emir to me, “What aileth thee that thou answerest not?” Thereupon I replied, “O my lord, ’tis a custom among the folk that he who hath a payment to make at a certain date is allowed three days’ grace: do thou have patience with me so long, and if, at the end of that time, the culprit be not found, I will be responsible for that which is lost.” When the folk heard my speech they all approved it as reasonable and the Wali turned to the Kazi and sware to him that he would do his utmost to recover the stolen monies adding, “And they shall be restored to thee.” Then he went away, whilst I mounted without stay or delay and began to-ing and fro-ing about the world without purpose, and indeed I was become the underling of a woman without honesty or honour; and I went my rounds in this way all that my day and that my night, but happened not upon tidings of her; and thus I did on the morrow. On the third day I said to myself, “Thou art mad or silly;” for I was wandering in quest of a woman who knew me28 and I knew her not, she being veiled when I met her. Then I went round about the third day till the hour of mid-afternoon prayer, and sore waxed my cark and my care for I kenned that there remained to me of my life but the morrow, when the Chief of Police would send for me. However, as sundown-time came, I passed through one of the main streets, and saw a woman at a window; her door was ajar and she was clapping her hands and casting sidelong glances at me, as who should say, “Come up by the door.” So I went up, without fear or suspicion, and when I entered, she rose and clasped me to her breast. I marvelled at the matter and quoth she to me, “I am she whom thou depositedst with Amin al-Hukm.” Quoth I to her, “O my sister, I have been going round and round in request of thee, for indeed thou hast done a deed which will be chronicled and hast cast me into red death29 on thine account.” She asked me, “Dost thou speak thus to me and thou a captain of men?” and I answered, “How should I not be troubled, seeing that I be in concern for an affair I turn over and over in mind, more by token that I continue my day long going about searching for thee and in the night I watch its stars and planets?”30 Cried she, “Naught shall betide save weal, and thou shalt get the better of him.”31 So saying, she rose and going to a chest, drew out therefrom six bags full of gold and said to me, “This is what I took from Amin al-Hukm’s house. So an thou wilt, restore it; else the whole is lawfully32 thine; and if thou desire other than this, thou shalt obtain it; for I have monies in plenty and I had no design herein save to marry thee.” Then she arose and opening other chests, brought out therefrom wealth galore and I said to her, “O my sister, I have no wish for all this, nor do I want aught except to be quit of that wherein I am.” Quoth she, “I came not forth of the Kazi’s house without preparing for thine acquittance.” Then said she to me, “When the morrow shall morn and Amin al-Hukm shall come to thee bear with him till he have made an end of his speech, and when he is silent, return him no reply; and if the Wali ask, ‘What aileth thee that thou answerest me not?’ do thou rejoin, ‘O lord and master33 know that the two words are not alike, but there is no helper for the conquered one34 save Allah Almighty.’ The Kazi will cry, ‘What is the meaning of thy saying, The two words are not alike?’ And do thou retort, ‘I deposited with thee a damsel from the palace of the Sultan, and most likely some enemy of hers in thy household hath transgressed against her or she hath been secretly murdered. Verily, there were on her raiment and ornaments worth a thousand ducats, and hadst thou put to the question those who are with thee of slaves and slave-girls, needs must thou have litten on some traces of the crime.’ When he heareth this from thee, his trouble will redouble and he will be amated and will make oath that thou hast no help for it but to go with him to his house: however, do thou say, ‘That will I not do, for I am the party aggrieved, more especially because I am under suspicion with thee.’ If he redouble in calling on Allah’s aid and conjure thee by the oath of divorce saying, ‘Thou must assuredly come,’ do thou reply, ‘By Allah, I will not go, unless the Chief also go with me.’ Then, as soon as thou comest to the house, begin by searching the terrace-roofs; then rummage the closets and cabinets; and if thou find naught, humble thyself before the Kazi and be abject and feign thyself subjected, and after stand at the door and look as if thou soughtest a place wherein to make water,35 because there is a dark corner there. Then come forward, with heart harder than syenite-stone, and lay hold upon a jar of the jars and raise it from its place. Thou wilt find there under it a mantilla-skirt; bring it out publicly and call the Wali in a loud voice, before those who are present. Then open it and thou wilt find it full of blood, exceeding for freshness, and therein a woman’s walking-boots and a pair of petticoat-trousers and somewhat of linen.” When I heard from her these words, I rose to go out and she said to me, “Take these hundred sequins, so they may succour thee; and such is my guest-gift to thee.” Accordingly I took them and leaving her door ajar returned to my lodging. Next morning, up came the Judge, with his face like the ox-eye,36 and asked, “In the name of Allah, where is my debtor and where is my property?” Then he wept and cried out and said to the Wali, “Where is that ill-omened fellow, who aboundeth in robbery and villainy?” Thereupon the Chief turned to me and said, “Why dost thou not answer the Kazi?” and I replied, “O Emir, the two heads37 are not equal, and I, I have no helper;38 but, an the right be on my side ’twill appear.” At this the Judge grew hotter of temper and cried out, “Woe to thee, O ill-omened wight! How wilt thou make manifest that the right is on thy side?” I replied “O our lord the Kazi, I deposited with thee and in thy charge a woman whom we found at thy door, and on her raiment and ornaments of price. Now she is gone, even as yesterday is gone;39 and after this thou turnest upon us and suest me for six thousand gold pieces. By Allah, this is none other than a mighty great wrong, and assuredly some foe40 of hers in thy household hath transgressed against her!” With this the Judge’s wrath redoubled and he swore by the most solemn of oaths that I should go with him and search his house. I replied, “By Allah I will not go, unless the Wali go with us; for, an he be present, he and the officers, thou wilt not dare to work thy wicked will upon me.” So the Kazi rose and swore an oath, saying, “By the truth of Him who created mankind, we will not go but with the Emir!” Accordingly we repaired to the Judge’s house, accompanied by the Chief, and going up, searched it through, but found naught; whereat fear fell upon me and the Wali turned to me and said, “Fie upon thee, O ill-omened fellow! thou hast put us to shame before the men.” All this, and I wept and went round about right and left, with the tears running down my face, till we were about to go forth and drew near the door of the house. I looked at the place which the woman had mentioned and asked, “What is yonder dark place I see?” Then said I to the men, “Pull up41 this jar with me.” They did my bidding and I saw somewhat appearing under the jar and said, “Rummage and look at what is under it.” So they searched, and behold, they came upon a woman’s mantilla and petticoat-trousers full of blood, which when I espied, I fell down in a fainting-fit. Now when the Wali saw this, he said, “By Allah, the Captain is excused!” Then my comrades came round about me and sprinkled water on my face till I recovered, when I arose and accosting the Kazi (who was covered with confusion), said to him, “Thou seest that suspicion is fallen on thee, and indeed this affair is no light matter, because this woman’s family will assuredly not sit down quietly under her loss.” Therewith the Kazi’s heart quaked and fluttered for that he knew the suspicion had reverted upon him, wherefore his colour yellowed and his limbs smote together; and he paid of his own money, after the measure of that he had lost, so we would quench that fire for him.42 Then we departed from him in peace, whilst I said within myself, “Indeed, the woman falsed me not.” After that I tarried till three days had passed, when I went to the Hammam and changing my clothes, betook myself to her home, but found the door shut and covered with dust. So I asked the neighbours of her and they answered, “This house hath been empty of habitants these many days; but three days agone there came a woman with an ass, and at supper-time last night she took her gear and went away.” Hereat I turned back, bewildered in my wit, and for many a day after I inquired of the dwellers in that street concerning her, but could happen on no tidings of her. And indeed I wondered at the eloquence of her tongue and the readiness of her talk; and this is the most admirable of all I have seen and of whatso hath betided me. When Al-Malik al-Zahir heard the tale of Mu’in al-Din, he marvelled thereat. Then rose another constable and said, “O lord, hear what befel me in bygone days.”
8 These policemen’s tales present a curious contrast with the detective stories of M. Gaboriau and his host of imitators. In the East the police, like the old Bow Street runners, were and are still recruited principally amongst the criminal classes on the principle of “Set a thief,” &c. We have seen that the Barmecide Wazirs of Baghdad “anticipated Fourier’s doctrine of the passionel treatment of lawless inclinations,” and employed as subordinate officers, under the Wali or Prefect of Police, accomplished villains like Ahmad al-Danaf (vol. iv. 75), Hasan Shuuman and Mercury Ali (ibid.) and even women (Dalilah the Crafty) to coerce and checkmate their former comrades. Moreover a gird at the police is always acceptable, not only to a coffee-house audience, but even to a more educated crowd; witness the treatment of the “Charley” and the “Bobby” in our truly English pantomimes.
9 i.e. the Chief of Police, as the sequel shows.
10 About £4.
11 i.e. of the worlds visible and invisible.
12 Arab. “Mukaddam:” see vol. iv, 42.
13 “Faithful of Command;” it may be a title as well as a P. N. For “Al-Amín,” see vol. iv. 261.
14 i. e. “What have I to do with, etc.?” or “How great is the difference between me and her.” The phrase is still popular in Egypt and Syria; and the interrogative form only intensifies it. The student of Egyptian should always try to answer a question by a question. His labours have been greatly facilitated by the conscientious work of my late friend Spitta Bey. I tried hard to persuade the late Rogers Bey, whose knowledge of Egyptian and Syrian (as opposed to Arabic) was considerable, that a simple grammar of Egyptian was much wanted; he promised to undertake it) but death cut short the design.
15 Arab. “Nawwáb,” plur. of Náib (lit. deputies, lieutenants)=a Nabob. Till the unhappy English occupation of Egypt, the grand old Kil’ah (Citadel) contained the palace of the Pasha and the lodgings and offices of the various officials. Foreign rulers, if they are wise, should convert it into a fort with batteries commanding the town, like that of Hyderabad, in Sind.
16 For this famous and time-honoured building, see vol. i. 269.
17 Arab. “Tamkín,” gravity, assurance.
18 Arab. “ Iyál-hu” lit. his family, a decorous circumlocution for his wives and concubines.
19 Arab. “Darb,” lit. a road; here a large thoroughfare.
20 When Mohammed Ali Pasha (the “Great”) began to rule, he found Cairo “stifled” with filth, and gave orders that each householder, under pain of confiscation, should keep the street before his house perfectly clean. This was done after some examples had been made and the result was that since that time Cairo never knew the plague. I am writing at Tangier where a Mohammed Ali is much wanted.
21 i.e. Allah forfend!
22 Arab. “Mustauda’"=a strong place where goods are deposited and left in charge.
23 Because, if she came to grief, the people of the street, and especially those of the adjoining houses would get into trouble. Hence in Moslem cities, like Damascus and Fez, the Hárát or quarters are closed at night with strong wooden doors, and the guards will not open them except by means of a silver key. Mohammed Ali abolished this inconvenience, but fined and imprisoned all night-walkers who carried no lanterns. See Pilgrimage, vol. i. 173,
24 As Kazi of the quarter he was ex-officio guardian of the orphans and their property, and liable to severe punishment (unless he could pay for the luxury) in case of fraud or neglect.
25 Altogether six thousand dinars=£3000. This sentence is borrowed from the sequel and necessary to make the sense clear.
26 i.e. “I am going at once to complain of thee before the king unless thou give me due satisfaction by restoring the money and finding the thief.”
27 The Practice (of the Prophet) and the Holy Law (Koranic): see vols. v. 36, 167 and i. 169.
28 In the corrupt text “Who knew me not;” thus spoiling the point.
29 Arab. “Maut Ahmar”=violent or bloody death. For the various coloured deaths, see vol. vi. 250.
30 i.e. for lack of sleep.
31 i.e. of the Kazi.
32 Arab. “Mubáh,” in the theologic sense, an action which is not sinful (harám) or quasisinful (makruh); vulgarly “permitted, allowed”; so Shahrazad “ceased to say her say permitted” (by Shahryar).
33 Arab. “Yá Khawand”; see vol. vii. 315.
34 i.e. we both make different statements equally credible, but without proof, and the case will go against me, because thou art the greater man.
35 Arab. “Irtiyád”=seeking a place where to stale, soft and sloping, so that the urine spray may not defile the dress. All this in one word!
36 Arab. “Bahár,” the red buphthalmus sylvester often used for such comparisons. In Algeria it is called ‘Aráwah: see the Jardin Parfumé, p. 245, note 144.
37 i.e. parties.
38 i.e. amongst men.
39 Almost as neat as “oú sont les neiges d’autan?”
40 Arab. “Ádí,” one transgressing, an enemy, a scoundrel.
41 It was probably stuck in the ground like an amphora.
42 i.e. hush up the matter.
I was once an overseer in the household of the Emir Jamál al-Din al-Atwash al-Mujhidi, who was made governor of the two provinces, Sharkíyah and Gharbíyah,43 and I was dear to his heart and he hid from me naught of whatso he desired to do; and he was eke master of his reason.44 It came to pass one day of the days that it was reported to him how the daughter of Such-an-one had a mint of monies and raiment and ornaments and at that present she loved a Jewish man, whom every day she invited to be private with her, and they passed the light hours eating and drinking in company and he lay the night with her. The Wali feigned not to believe a word of this story, but he summoned the watchmen of the quarter one night and questioned them of this tittle-tattle. Quoth one of them, “As for me, O my lord, I saw none save a Jew45 enter the street in question one night; but I have not made certain to whom he went in;” and quoth the Chief, “Keep thine eye on him from this time forward and note what place he entereth.” So the watchman went out and kept his eye on the Judaean. One day as the Prefect sat in his house, the watchman came in to him and said, “O my lord, in very sooth the Jew goeth to the house of Such-an-one.” Whereupon Al-Atwash sprang to his feet and went forth alone, taking with him none save myself.”46 As he went along, he said to me, “Indeed, this girl is a fat piece of meat.”47 And we gave not over going till we came to the door of the house and stood there until a hand-maid came out, as if to buy them something wanted. We waited till she opened the door, whereupon, without question or answer, we forced our way into the house and rushed in upon the girl, whom we found seated with the Jew in a saloon with four daVses, and cooking-pots and candles therein. When her eyes fell on the Wali, she knew him and rising to her feet, said, “Well come and welcome and fair cheer! By Allah, great honour hath betided me by my lord’s visit and indeed thou dignifiest my dwelling.” Hereat she carried him up to the dais and seating him on the couch, brought him meat and wine and gave him to drink; after which she put off all that was upon her of raiment and ornaments and tying them up in a kerchief, said to him, “O my lord, this is thy portion, all of it.” Then she turned to the Jew and said to him, “Rise, thou also, and do even as I:” so he arose in haste and went out very hardly crediting his deliverance.48 When the girl was assured of his escape, she put out her hand to her clothes and jewels and taking them, said to the Chief, “O Emir, is the requital of kindness other than kindness? Thou hast deigned to visit me and eat of my bread and salt; so now arise and depart from us without ill-doing; or I will give a single outcry and all who are in the street will come forth.” So the Emir went out from her, without having gotten a single dirham; and on this wise she delivered the Jew by the seemliness of her stratagem. The company admired this tale, and as for the Wali and Al-Malik al-Zahir, they said, “Ever devised any the like of this device?” and they marvelled with the utterest of marvel. Then arose a third constable and said, “Hear what betided me, for it is yet stranger and rarer.”
43 In Egypt; the former being the Eastern of the Seven Provinces extending to the Pelusium branch, and the latter to the Canobic. The “Barári” or deserts, i.e. grounds not watered by the Nile, lie scattered between the two and both are bounded South by the Kalúbíyah Province and Middle Egypt.
44 i.e. a man ready of wit and immediate of action, as opposed to his name Al-Atwash — one notable for levity of mind.
45 The negative is emphatic, “I certainly saw a Jew,” etc.
46 The “Irish bull” is in the text; justified by —
They hand-in-hand, with wand’ring steps and slow
Through Eden took their solitary way,
47 As we should say, “There are good pickings to be had out of this job.” Even in the last generation a Jew or a Christian intriguing with an Egyptian or Syrian Moslemah would be offered the choice of death or Al-Islam. The Wali dared not break open the door because he was not sure of his game.
48 The Jew rose seemingly to fetch his valuables and ran away, thus leaving the Wali no proof that he had been there in Moslem law which demands ocular testimony, rejects circumstantial evidence and ignores such partial witnesses as the policeman who accompanied his Chief. This I have before explained.
I was one day abroad on business with certain of my comrades; and, as we walked along behold, we fell in with a company of women, as they were moons, and among them one, the tallest of them and the handsomest. When I saw her and she saw me, she lagged behind her companions and waited for me till I came up to her and bespake her. Quoth she, “O my lord (Allah favour thee!) I saw thee prolong thy looking on me and I fancied that thou knewest me. An it be thus, let me learn more of thee.” Quoth I, “By Allah, I know thee not, save that the Most High Lord hath cast the love of thee into my heart and the goodliness of thy qualities hath confounded me; and that wherewith the Almighty hath gifted thee of those eyes that shoot with shafts hath captivated me.” And she rejoined, “By Allah, indeed I feel the like of that which thou feelest; ay, and even more; so that meseemeth I have known thee from childhood.” Then said I, “A man cannot well effect all whereof he hath need in the market-places.” She asked me, “Hast thou a house?” and I answered, “No, by Allah, nor is this city my dwelling-place.” Rejoined she, “By Allah, nor have I a place; but I will contrive for thee.” Then she went on before me and I followed her till she came to a lodging-house49 and said to the Housekeeper, “Hast thou an empty room?” The other replied, “Yes:”50 and my mistress said, “Give us the key.” So we took the key and going up to see the room, entered to inspect it; after which she went out to the Housekeeper and giving her a dirham, said to her “Take the douceur of the key51 for the chamber pleaseth us, and here is another dirham for thy trouble. Go, fetch us a gugglet of water, so we may refresh ourselves and rest till siesta-time pass and the heat decline, when the man will depart and bring our bag and baggage.” Therewith the Housekeeper rejoiced and brought us a mat, two gugglets of water on a tray, a fan and a leather rug. We abode thus till the setting-in of mid-afternoon, when she said, “Needs must I make the Ghusl-ablution ere I fare.”52 Said I, “Get water wherewith we may both wash,” and drew forth from my pocket a score or so of dirhams, thinking to give them to her; but she cried, “Refuge with Allah!” and brought out of her pocket a handful of silver, saying, “But for destiny and that the Almighty hath caused the love of thee fall into my heart, there had not happened that which hath happened.” Quoth I, “Accept this in requital of that which thou hast spent;” and quoth she, “O my lord, by and by, whenas mating is prolonged between us, thou wilt see if the like of me looketh unto money and means or no.” Then the lady took a jar of water and going into the lavatory, made the Ghusl-ablution53 and presently coming forth, prayed the mid-afternoon prayer and craved pardon of Allah Almighty for the sin into which she had fallen. Now I had asked her name and she answered, “Rayhánah,”54 and described to me her dwelling-place. When I saw her make the ablution, I said within myself, “This woman doth on this wise, and shall I not do the like of her doing?” Then quoth I to her, “Peradventure55 thou wilt seek us another jar of water?” Accordingly she went out to the Housekeeper and said to her, “O my sister, take this Nusf and fetch us for it water wherewith we may wash the flags.”56 So the Housekeeper brought two jars of water and I took one of them and giving her my clothes, entered the lavatory and bathed. When I had made an end of bathing, I cried out, saying, “Harkye, my lady Rayhanah!” However none answered me. So I went out and found her not; but I did find that she had taken my clothes and all that was in them of silver, to wit, four hundred dirhams. She had also carried off my turband and my kerchief and I lacked the wherewithal to veil my shame; so I suffered somewhat than which death is less grievous and abode looking about the place, hoping that haply I might espy a rag wherewith to hide my nakedness. Then I sat a little and presently going up to the door, smote upon it; whereat up came the Housekeeper and I said to her, “O my sister, what hath Allah done with the woman who was here?” She replied, “The lady came down just now and said, ‘I’m going to cover the boys with the clothes,’ adding, ‘and I have left him sleeping; an he awake, tell him not to stir till the clothes come to him.’” Then cried I, “O my sister, secrets are safe with the fair-dealing and the freeborn. By Allah, this woman is not my wife, nor ever in my life have I seen her before this day!” And I recounted to her the whole affair and begged of her to cover me, informing her that my private parts were clean unconcealed. She laughed and cried out to the women of the lodging-house, saying, “Ho, Fátimah! Ho, Khadíjah! Ho, Harífah! Ho, Sanínah!” Whereupon all those who were in the place of women and neighbours flocked to me and fell a-mocking me and saying, “O pimp,57 what hadst thou to do with gallantry?” Then one of them came and looked in my face and laughed, and another said, “By Allah, thou mightest have known that she lied, from the time she said she liked thee and was in love with thee! What is there in thee to love?” A third said, “This is an old man without wisdom;” and all vied one with other in exercising their wits upon me, I suffering mighty sore chagrin. However, one of the women took compassion on me after a while, and brought me a rag of thin stuff and cast it on me. With this I covered my shame, and no more, and abode awhile thus: then said I in myself, “The husbands of these women will presently gather together upon me and I shall be disgraced.” So I went out by another door of the lodging-house, and young and old crowded about me, running after me and crying, “A madman! A madman!58 till I came to my house and knocked at the door; whereupon out came my wife and seeing me naked, tall, bare of head, cried out and ran in again, saying, “This is a maniac, a Satan!” But, when my family and spouse knew me, they rejoiced and said to me, “What aileth thee?” I told them that thieves had taken my clothes and stripped me and had been like to slay me; and when I assured them that the rogues would have slaughtered me, they praised Allah Almighty and gave me joy of my safety. So consider the craft this woman practised upon me, and I pretending to cleverness and wiliness. Those present marvelled at this story and at the doings of women; then came forward a fourth constable and said, “Now that which hath betided me of strange adventures is yet stranger than this, and ‘twas after the following fashion.”
49 Arab. “Raba’,” lit.=spring-quarters. See Marba’, iii. 79.
50 Arab. “Ni’am,” an exception to the Abbé Sicard’s rule. “La consonne N est l’expression naturelle du doute chez toutes les nations, par ce que le son que rend la touche nasale, quand l’homme incertain examine s’il fera ce qu’on lui demande; ainsi NE ON, NE OT, NE EC, NE IL, d’oj l’on a fait non, not, nec, nil.
51 For this “Haláwat al-Miftáh,” or sweetmeat of the key-money, the French denier a Dieu, Old English “God’s penny,” see vol. vii. 212, and Pilgrimage i. 62.
52 Showing that car. cop. had taken place. Here we find the irregular use of the inn, perpetuated in not a few of the monster hotels throughout Europe.
53 For its rules and right performance see vol. vi. 199.
54 i.e. the “Basil(issa),” mostly a servile name, see vol. i. 19.
55 Arab. “La’alla,” used to express the hope or expectation of some event of possible occurrence; thus distinguished from “Layta”— Would heaven! utinam! O si! etc. — expressing desire or volition.
56 Arab. “Balát,” in Cairo the flat slabs of limestone and sandstone brought from the Turah quarries, which supplied stone for the Jízah Pyramids.
57 Arab. “Yá Mu’arras!” here=O fool and disreputable; see vol. i. 338.
58 These unfortunates in hot climates enjoy nothing so much as throwing off the clothes which burn their feverish skins: see Pilgrimage iii. 385. Hence the boys of Eastern cities, who are perfect imps and flibbertigibbets, always raise the cry “Majnún” when they see a man naked whose sanctity does not account for his nudity.
We were sleeping one night on the terrace-roof, when a woman made her way through the darkness into the house and, gathering into a bundle all that was therein, took it up that she might go away with it. Now she was big with child and nigh upon her time of delivery; so, when she packed up the bundle and prepared to shoulder it and make off with it, she hastened the coming of the labour-pangs and bare a child in the dark. Then she sought for the fire-sticks and when they burned, kindled the lamp and went round about the house with the little one, and it was weeping. The wail awoke us, as we lay on the roof, and we marvelled. So we rose to see what was to do, and looking down through the opening of the saloon,59 saw a woman, who had lit the lamp, and heard the little one crying. As we were peering, she heard our words and raising her head to us, said, “Are ye not ashamed to deal thus with us and bare our shame? Wist ye not that the day belongeth to you and the night to us? Begone from us! By Allah, were it not that ye have been my neighbours these many years, I would assuredly60 bring down the house upon you!” We doubted not but that she was of the Jinn and drew back our heads; but, when we rose on the morrow, we found that she had taken all that was with us and made off with it;61 wherefore we knew that she was a thief and had practised on us a device, such as was never before practised; and we repented, whenas repentance availed us naught. The company, hearing this tale, marvelled thereat with the utmost marvelling. Then the fifth constable, who was the lieutenant of the bench,62 came forward and said, “This is no wonder and there befel me a story which is rarer and stranger than this.”
59 Arab. “Daur al-Ká‘ah”=the round opening made in the ceiling for light and ventilation.
60 Arab. “La-nakhsifanna” with the emphatic termination called by grammarians “Nún al-taakid”— the N of injunction. Here it is the reduplicated form, the Nun al-Sakílah or heavy N. The addition of Lá (not) e.g. “Lá yazrabanna”=let him certainly not strike answers to the intensive or corroborative negative of the Greek effected by two negations or even more. In Arabic as in Latin and English two negatives make an affirmative.
61 Parturition and death in warm climates, especially the damp-hot like Egypt are easy compared with both processes in the temperates of Europe. This is noticed by every traveller. Hence probably Easterns have never studied the artificial Euthanasia which is now appearing in literature. See p. 143 “My Path to Atheism,” by Annie Besant, London: Freethought Publishing Company, 28, Stonecutter Street, E. C., 1877, based upon the Utopia of the highly religious Thomas Moore. Also “Essay on Euthanasia,” by P. D. Williams, Jun., and Mr. Tollemache in the “Nineteenth Century.”
62 i.e. he whose turn it is to sit on the bench outside the police office in readiness for emergencies.
As I sat one day at the door of the Prefecture, behold, a woman suddenly entered and said as though consulting me. “O my lord, I am the wife of Such-an-one the Leach, and with him is a company of the notables63 of the city, drinking fermented drinks in such a place.” When I heard this, I misliked to make a scandal; so I bluffed her off and sent her away unsatisfied. Then I rose and walked alone to the place in question and sat without till the door opened, when I rushed in and entering, found the company even as the woman aforesaid had set out, and she herself with them. I saluted them and they returned my salam and rising, treated me with honour and seated me and served me with meat. Then I informed them how one had denounced them to me, but I had driven him away and had come to them by myself; so they thanked me and praising me for my kindness, brought out to me from among them two thousand dirhams64 and I took them and went away. Now two months after this adventure, there came to me one of the Kazi’s officers, with a paper, wherein was the judge’s writ, summoning me to him. So I accompanied the officer and went in to the Kazi, whereupon the plaintiff, he who had taken out the summons, sued me for two thousand dirhams, declaring I had borrowed them of him as the agent or guardian of the woman. I denied the debt, but he produced against me a bond for that sum, attested by four of those who were in company on the occasion; and they were present and bore witness to the loan. I reminded them of my kindness and paid the amount, swearing that I would never again follow a woman’s counsel. Is not this marvellous? The company admired the goodliness of his tale and it pleased Al-Malik al-Zahir; and the Wali said, “By Allah, this is a strange story!” Then came forward the sixth constable and said to those present, “Hear my adventure and that which befel me, to wit, that which befel Such-an-one the Assessor, for ’tis rarer than this and finer.”
A certain Assessor one day of the days was taken with a woman and much people assembled before his house and the Lieutenant of police and his posse came to him and rapped at the door. The Assessor peered from house-top and seeing the folk, said, “What do ye want?” Replied they, “Speak with the Lieutenant of police Such-an-one.” So he came down and as he opened the door they cried to him, “Bring forth the woman who is with thee.” “Are ye not ashamed? How shall I bring forth my wife?” “Is she thy wife by book65 or without marriage-lines?” “She is my wife according to the Book of Allah and the Institutes of His Apostle.” “Where is the contract?” “Her lines are in her mother’s house.” “Arise thou and come down and show us the writ.” “Go from her way, so she may come forth.” Now, as soon as he got wind of the matter, he had written the bond and fashioned it after the fashion of his wife,66 to suit with the case, and he had written therein the names of certain of his friends to serve as witnesses and forged the signatures of the drawer and the wife’s next friend and made it a contract of marriage with his wife and a legal deed.67 Accordingly, when the woman was about to go out from him, he gave her the contract he had forged, and the Emir sent with her a servant of his, to carry her home to her father. So the servant went with her and when she was inside she said to him, “I will not return to the citation of the Emir: but let the Assessors present themselves and take my contract.” Hereupon the servant carried this message to the Lieutenant of police, who was standing at the Assessor’s door, and he said, “This is permissible.” Then said the Assessor to the servant, “Fare, O eunuch, and fetch us Such-an-one the Notary;” for that he was his friend and ’twas he whose name he had forged as the drawer-up of the contract.68 So the Lieutenant sent after him and fetched him to the Assessor, who, when he saw him, said to him, “Get thee to Such-an-one, her with whom thou marriedst me, and cry out upon her, and when she cometh to thee,69 demand of her the contract and take it from her and bring it to us.” And he signed to him, as much as to say, “Bear me out in the lie and screen me, for that she is a strange woman and I70 am in fear of the Lieutenant who standeth at the door; and we beseech Allah Almighty to screen us and you from the woes of this world. Amen.” So the Notary went up to the Lieutenant, who was among the witnesses, and said, “ ’Tis well. Is she not Such-an-one whose marriage-contract we drew up in such a place?” Then he betook himself to the woman’s house and cried out upon her; whereat she brought him the forged contract and he took it and returned with it to the Lieutenant of police.71 When the officer had taken cognizance of the document and professed himself satisfied, the Assessor said to the Notary, “Go to our lord and master, the Kazi of the Kazis, and acquaint him with that which befalleth his Assessors.” The Notary rose to go, but the Lieutenant feared for himself and was urgent in beseeching the Assessor and in kissing his hands till he forgave him; whereupon the Lieutenant went away in the utmost concern and affright. On such wise the Assessor ordered the case and carried out the forgery and feigned marriage with the woman; and thus escaped calumny and calamity by the seemliness of his stratagem.72 The folk marvelled at this with the uttermost marvel and the seventh constable said, “There befel me in Alexandria the God-guarded a wondrous thing, and ’twas this.”73
65 Arab. “Kitáb”=book, written bond. This officiousness of the neighbours is thoroughly justified by Moslem custom; and the same scene would take place in this our day. Like the Hindú’s, but in a minor degree, the Moslem’s neighbours form a volunteer police which oversees his every action. In the case of the Hindú this is required by the exigencies of caste, an admirable institution much bedevilled by ignorant Mlenchbas, and if “dynamiting” become the fashion in England, as it threatens to become, we shall be obliged to establish “Vigilance Committees” which will be as inquisitorial as caste
66 e.g. writing The contract of A. with B., daughter of Such-an-one, etc.
67 Arab. “Hujjat,” which may also mean an excuse.
68 The last clause is supplied by Mr. Payne to stop a gap in the broken text.
69 The text idiotically says “To the King.”
70 In the text “Nahnu”=we, for I, a common vulgarism in Egypt and Syria.
71 This clause has required extensive trimming; the text making the Notary write out the contract (which was already written) in the woman’s house.
72 Arab. “Husn tadbír”=lit. “beauty of his contrivance.” Husn, like pulcher, beau and bello, is applied to moral intellectual qualities as well as to physical and material. Hence the iáëÎ ãÝkùí or old gentleman which in Romaic becomes Calogero, a monk.
73 i.e. that some one told me the following tale.
There came one day an old woman to the stuff-bazar, with a casket of mighty fine workmanship, containing trinkets, and she was accompanied by a young baggage big with child. The crone sat down at the shop of a draper and giving him to know that the girl was pregnant by the Prefect74 of Police of the city, took of him, on credit, stuffs to the value of a thousand diners and deposited with him the casket as security. She opened the casket and showed him that which was therein and he found it full of trinkets of price; so he trusted her with the goods and she farewelled him and carrying the stuffs to the girl who was with her, went her way. Then the old woman was absent from him a great while, and when her absence was prolonged, the draper despaired of her; so he went up to the Prefect’s house and asked anent the woman of his household who had taken his stuffs on credit; but could obtain no tidings of her nor happen on any trace of her. Then he brought out the casket of jewellery and showed it to experts, who told him that the trinkets were gilt and that their worth was but an hundred dirhams. When he heard this, he was sore concerned thereat and presenting himself before the Deputy of the Sultan made his complaint to him; whereupon the official knew that a sleight had been served upon him and that the sons of Adam75 had cozened him and conquered him and cribbed his stuffs. Now the magistrate in question was a man of experience and judgment, well versed in affairs; so he said to the draper, “Remove somewhat from thy shop, including the casket, and to-morrow morning break the lock and cry out and come to me and complain that they have plundered all thy shop.76 Also mind thou call upon Allah for aid and wail aloud and acquaint the people, so that a world of folk may flock to thee and sight the breach of the lock and that which is missing from thy shop: and on this wise display it to every one who presenteth himself that the news may be noised abroad, and tell them that thy chief concern is for a casket of great value, deposited with thee by a great man of the town and that thou standest in fear of him. But be thou not afraid and still say ever and anon in thy saying, ‘My casket was the casket of Such-an-one, and I fear him and dare not bespeak him; but you, O company and all ye who are present, I call you to witness of this for me.’ And if there be with thee more than this saying, say it; and the old woman will assuredly come to thee.” The draper answered with “To hear is to obey” and going forth from the Deputy’s presence, betook himself to his shop and brought out thence the casket and a somewhat making a great display, which he removed to his house. At break of day he arose and going to his shop, broke the lock and shouted and shrieked and called on Allah for aid, till each and every of the folk assembled about him and all who were in the city were present, whereupon he cried out to them, saying even as the Prefect had bidden him; and this was bruited abroad. Then he made for the Prefecture and presenting himself before the Chief of Police, cried out and complained and made a show of distraction. After three days, the old woman came to him and bringing him the thousand diners, the price of the stuffs, de mended the casket.77 When he saw her, he seized her and carried her to the Prefect of the city; and when she came before the Kazi, he said to her, “Woe to thee O Sataness; did not thy first deed suffice thee, but thou must come a second time?” She replied, “I am of those who seek their salvation78 in the cities, and we foregather every month: and, yesterday we foregathered.” He asked her, “Canst thou cause me to catch them?” and she answered, “Yes; but, an thou wait till to-morrow, they will have dispersed; so I will deliver them to thee to-night.” The Emir said to her, “Go;” and said she, “Send with me one who shall go with me to them and obey me in whatso I shall say to him, and all that I bid him he shall not gainsay and therein conform to my way.” Accordingly, he gave her a company of men and she took them and bringing them to a certain door, said to them, “Stand ye here, at this door, and whoso cometh out to you seize him; and I will come out to you last of all.” “Hearing and obeying,” answered they and stood at the door, whilst the crone went in. They waited a whole hour, even as the Sultan’s deputy had bidden them, but none came out to them and their standing waxed longsome, and when they were weary of waiting, they went up to the door and smote upon it a heavy blow and a violent, so that they came nigh to break the wooden bolt. Then one of them entered and was absent a long while, but found naught; so he returned to his comrades and said to them, “This is the door of a dark passage, leading to such a thoroughfare; and indeed she laughed at you and left you and went away.”79 When they heard his words, they returned to the Emir and acquainted him with the case, whereby he knew that the old woman was a cunning craft-mistress and that she had mocked at them and cozened them and put a cheat on them, to save herself. Witness, then, the wiles of this woman and that which she contrived of guile, for all her lack of foresight in presenting herself a second time to the draper and not suspecting that his conduct was but a sleight; yet, when she found herself hard upon calamity, she straightway devised a device for her deliverance. When the company heard the seventh constable’s story, they were moved to mirth galore, than which naught could be more; and Al-Malik al Zahir Bíbars rejoiced in that which he heard and said, “Verily, there betide things in this world wherefrom kings are shut out, by reason of their exalted degree!” Then came forward another person from amongst the company and said, “There hath reached me through one of my friends a similar story bearing on the malice of women and their wiles, and it is more wondrous and marvellous, more diverting and more delectable than all that hath been told to you.” Quoth the company there present, “Tell us thy tale and expound it unto us, so we may see that which it hath of extraordinary.” And he began to relate
74 Arab. “Mutawallí”: see vol. i. 259.
75 i.e. his Moslem neighbours.
76 In the text is a fearful confusion of genders.
77 Her object was to sue him for the loss of the pledge and to demand fabulous damages.
78 Arab. “Ya’tamidúna hudá-hum”=purpose the right direction, a skit at the devotees of her age and sex; and an impudent comment upon the Prefect’s address “O she-devil!”
79 The trick has often been played in modern times at fairs, shows, etc. Witness the old joe Miller of the “Moving Multitude.”
Ye must know that a company, amongst whom was a friend of mine, once invited me to an entertainment; so I went with him, and when we came into his house and sat down on his couch, he said to me, “This is a blessed day and a day of gladness, and who is he that liveth to see the like of this day? I desire that thou practice with us and disapprove not our proceedings, for that thou hast been accustomed to fall in with those who offer this.”80 I consented thereto and their talk happened upon the like of this subject.81 Presently, my friend, who had invited me, arose from among them and said to them, Listen to me and I will acquaint you with an adventure which happened to me. There was a certain person who used to visit me in my shop, and I knew him not nor he knew me, nor ever in his life had he seen me; but he was wont, whenever he wanted a dirham or two, by way of loan, to come to me and ask me, without acquaintance or introduction between me and him, and I would give him what he required. I told none of him, and matters abode thus between us a long while till he began a-borrowing at a time ten or twenty dirhams, more or less. One day, as I stood in my shop, behold, a woman suddenly came up to me and stopped before me; and she was a presence as she were the full moon rising from among the constellations, and the place was a-light by her light. When I saw her, I fixed my eyes on her and stared in her face; and she fell to bespeaking me with soft voice. When I heard her words and the sweetness of her speech, I lusted after her; and as soon as she saw that I longed for her, she did her errand and promising me an assignation, went away, leaving my thoughts occupied with her and fire a-flame in my heart. Accordingly I abode, perplexed and pondering my affair, the fire still burning in my heart, till the third day, when she came again and I could hardly credit her coming. When I saw her, I talked with her and cajoled her and courted her and craved her favour with speech and invited her to my house; but, hearing all this, she only answered, “I will not go up into any one’s house.” Quoth I, “I will go with thee” and quoth she, “Arise and come with me.” So I rose and putting into my sleeve a kerchief, wherein was a fair sum of silver and a considerable, followed the woman, who forwent me and ceased not walking till she brought me to a lane and to a door, which she bade me unlock. I refused and she opened it and led me into the vestibule. As soon as I had entered, she bolted the entrance door from within and said to me, “Sit here till I go in to the slave-girls and cause them enter a place whence they shall not see me.” “’Tis well,” answered I and sat down: whereupon she entered and was absent from me an eye-twinkling, after which she returned to me, without a veil, and straightway said, “Arise and enter in the name of Allah.” So I arose and went in after her and we gave not over going till we reached a saloon. When I examined the place, I found it neither handsome nor pleasant, but desolate and dreadful without symmetry or cleanliness; indeed, it was loathsome to look upon and there was in it a foul smell. After this inspection I seated myself amiddlemost the saloon, misdoubting; and lo and behold! as I sat, there came down on me from the dais a body of seven naked men, without other clothing than leather belts about their waists. One of them walked up to me and took my turband, whilst another seized my kerchief that was in my sleeve, with my money, and a third stripped me of my clothes; after which a forth came and bound my hands behind my back with his belt. Then they all took me up, pinioned as I was, and casting me down, fell a-haling me towards a sink-hole that was there and were about to cut my throat, when suddenly there came a violent knocking at the door. As they heard the raps, they were afraid and their minds were diverted from me by affright; so the woman went out and presently returning, said to them, “Fear not; no harm shall betide you this day. ’Tis only your comrade who hath brought you your dinner.” With this the new-comer entered, bringing with him a roasted lamb; and when he came in to them, he asked, “What is to do with you, that ye have tucked up sleeves and bag-trousers?” Replied they, “This is a head of game we’ve caught.” As he heard these words, he came up to me and peering in my face, cried out and said, “By Allah, this is my brother, the son of my mother and father! Allah! Allah!” Then he loosed me from my pinion-bonds and bussed my head, and behold it was my friend who used to borrow silver of me. When I kissed his head, he kissed mine and said, “O my brother, be not affrighted;” and he called for my clothes and coin and restored all to me nor was aught missing. Also, he brought me a porcelain bowl full of sherbet of sugar, with lemons therein, and gave me to drink; and the company came and seated me at a table. So I ate with them and he said to me, “O my lord and my brother, now have bread and salt passed between us and thou hast discovered our secret and our case; but secrets with the noble are safe.” I replied, ‘As I am a lawfully-begotten child and a well-born, I will not name aught of this nor denounce you!” They assured themselves of me by an oath; then they brought me out and I went my way, very hardly crediting but that I was of the dead. I lay ill in my house a whole month; after which I went to the Hammam and coming out, opened my shop and sat selling and buying as was my wont, but saw no more of that man or that woman till, one day, there stopped before my shop a young Turkoman,82 as he were the full moon; and he was a sheep-merchant and had with him a leathern bag, wherein was money, the price of sheep he had sold. He was followed by the woman, and when he stopped over against my shop, she stood by his side and cajoled him, and indeed he inclined to her with great inclination. As for me, I was dying of solicitude for him and began casting furtive glances at him and winked at him, till he chanced to look round and saw me signing to him; whereupon the woman gazed at me and made a signal with her hand and went away. The Turkoman followed her and I deemed him dead without a doubt; wherefore I feared with exceeding fear and shut my shop. Then I journeyed for a year’s space and returning, opened my shop; whereupon, behold, the woman as she walked by came up to me and said, “This is none other than a great absence.” I replied, “I have been on a journey;” and she asked, “Why didst thou wink at the Turkoman?” I answered, “Allah forfend! I did not wink at him.” Quoth she, “Beware lest thou thwart me;” and went away. Awhile after this a familiar of mine invited me to his house and when I came to him, we ate and drank and chatted. Then he asked me, “O my friend, hath there befallen thee aught of sore trouble in the length of thy life?” Answered I, “Tell me first, hath there befallen thee aught?” He rejoined, “Know that one day I espied a fair woman; so I followed her and sued her to come home with me. Quoth she, ‘I will not enter any one’s house but my own; so come thou to my home, an thou wilt, and be it on such a day.’ Accordingly, on the appointed day, her messenger83 came to me, proposing to carry me to her; and when he announced his purpose I arose and went with him, till we arrived at a goodly house and a great door. He opened the door and I entered, whereupon he bolted it behind me and would have gone in; but I feared with exceeding fear and foregoing him to the second door, whereby he would have had me enter, bolted it and cried out at him, saying, ‘By Allah, an thou open not to me, I will slay thee;84 for I am none of those whom thou canst readily cozen!’ ‘What deemest thou of cozening?’ ‘Verily, I am startled by the loneliness of the house and the lack of any keeper at its door; for I see none appear.’ ‘O my lord, this is a private door.’ ‘Private or public, open to me.’ So he opened to me and I went out and had gone but a little way from the door when I met a woman, who said to me, ‘A long life was fore-ordained to thee; else hadst thou never come forth of yonder house.’ I asked, ‘How so?’ and she answered, ‘Enquire of thy friend Such-an-one,’ (naming thee), ‘and he will acquaint thee with strange things.’ So, Allah upon thee, O my friend, tell me what befel thee of wondrous and marvellous, for I have told thee what befel me.” “O my brother, I am bound by a solemn oath.” “O my friend, false thine oath and tell me.”85 “Indeed, I dread the issue of this.” But he urged me till I told him all, whereat he marvelled. Then I went away from him and abode a long while, without further news. One day, I met another of my friends who said to me, “A neighbour of mine hath invited me to hear singers” but I said:—“I will not foregather with any one.” However, he prevailed upon me; so we repaired to the place and found there a person, who came to meet us and said, “Bismillah!”86 Then he pulled out a key and opened the door, whereupon we entered and he locked the door after us. Quoth I, “We are the first of the folk; but where be the singers’ voices?” He replied, “They’re within the house: this is but a private door; so be not amazed at the absence of the folk.” My friend said to me, “Behold, we are two, and what can they dare to do with us?” Then he brought us into the house, and when we entered the saloon, we found it desolate exceedingly and dreadful of aspect. Quoth my friend, “We are fallen into a trap; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” And quoth I, “May God never requite thee for me with good!”87 Then we sat down on the edge of the dais and suddenly I espied a closet beside me; so I peered into it and my friend asked me, “What seest thou?” I answered, “I see there wealth in store and corpses of murdered men galore. Look.” So he looked and cried, “By Allah, we are down among the dead!” and we fell a-weeping, I and he. As we were thus, behold, four men came in upon us, by the door at which we had entered, and they were naked, wearing only leather belts about their waists, and made for my friend. He ran at them and dealing one of them a blow with his swordpommel, knocked him down, whereupon the other three rushed upon him. I seized the opportunity to escape while they were occupied with him, and espying a door by my side, slipped into it and found myself in an underground room, without issue, even a window. So I made sure of death, and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Then I looked at the top of the vault and saw in it a range of glazed and coloured lunettes;88 so I clambered up for dear life, till I reached the lunettes, and I out of my wits for fear. I made shift to remove the glass and scrambling out through the setting, found behind them a wall which I bestrode. Thence I saw folk walking in the street; so I cast myself down on the ground and Allah Almighty preserved me, and when I reached the face of earth, unhurt, the folk flocked round me and I acquainted them with my adventure. Now as Destiny decreed, the Chief of Police was passing through the market-street; so the people told him what was to do and he made for the door and bade raise it off its hinges. We entered with a rush and found the thieves, as they had thrown my friend down and cut his throat; for they occupied not themselves with me, but said, “Whither shall yonder fellow wend? Verily, he is in our grasp.” So the Wali hent them with the hand89 and questioned them of their case, and they confessed against the woman and against their associates in Cairo. Then he took them and went forth, after he had locked up the house and sealed it; and I accompanied him till he came without the first house. He found the door bolted from within; so he bade raise it and we entered and found another door. This also he caused pull up, enjoining his men to silence till the doors should be lifted, and we entered and found the band occupied with new game, whom the woman had just brought in and whose throat they were about to cut. The Chief released the man and gave him back whatso the thieves had taken from him; and he laid hands on the woman and the rest and took forth of the house a mint of money, with which they found the purse of the Turkoman sheep-merchant. They at once nailed up the thieves against the house-wall, whilst, as for the woman, they wrapped her in one of her mantillas and nailing her to a board, set her upon a camel and went round about the town with her. Thus Allah razed their dwelling-places and did away from me that which I feared from them. All this befel, whilst I looked on, and I saw not my friend who had saved me from them the first time, whereat I wondered to the utterest of wonderment. However, some days afterward, he came up to me, and indeed he had renounced the world and donned a Fakir’s dress; and he saluted me and went away.90 Then he again began to pay me frequent visits and I entered into conversation with him and questioned him of the band and how he came to escape, he alone of them all. He replied “I left them from the day on which Allah the Most High delivered thee from them, for that they would not obey my say; so I sware I would no longer consort with them.” Quoth I, “By Allah, I marvel at thee, for that assuredly thou wast the cause of my preservation!” Quoth he, “The world is full of this sort; and we beseech the Almighty to send us safety, for that these wretches practice upon men with every kind of malpractice.” Then I said to him, “Tell me the rarest adventure of all that befel thee in this villainy thou wast wont to work.” And he answered, “O my brother, I was not present when they did such deeds, for that my part with them was to concern myself with selling and buying and feeding them; but it hath reached me that the rarest thing which befel them was on this wise.”
The Thief’s Tale.
The woman who acted decoy for them and trapped their game and used to inveigle damsels from marriage-banquets, once caught them a woman from a bride-feast, under pretence that she had a wedding in her own house, and fixed for her a day when she should come to her. As soon as the appointed time arrived, the woman presented herself and the other carried her into the house by a door, declaring that it was a private wicket. When she entered the saloon, she saw men and braves91 and knew that she had fallen into a snare; so she looked at them and said, “Harkye, my fine fellows!92 I am a woman and in my slaughter there is no glory, nor have ye against me any feud of blood-wite wherefor ye should pursue me; and that which is upon me of raiment and ornaments ye are free to take as lawful loot.” Quoth they, “We fear thy denunciation;” but quoth she, “I will abide with you, neither coming in nor going out.” So they said, “We grant thee thy life.” Then the Captain looked on her and she pleased him; so he took her for himself, and she abode with him a whole year doing her very best in their service, till they became familiar with her and felt assured of her faith. One night of the nights she plied them with drink and they drank till they became drunken; whereupon she arose and took her clothes and five hundred dinars from the Captain; after which she fetched a razor and shaved off all their beards. Then she took soot from the cooking-pots and blackening their faces93 opened the doors and fared forth; and when the thieves recovered from their drink, they abode confounded and knew that the woman had practiced upon them. All present marvelled at this his story and the ninth constable came forward and said, “I will tell you a right pleasant tale I heard at a wedding.”
80 Apparently meaning the forbidden pleasures of wine and wassail, loose talk and tales of women’s wiles, a favourite subject with the lewder sort of Moslem.
81 i.e. women’s tricks.
82 The “Turkoman” in the text first comes in afterwards.
83 Arab. “Kásid,” the old Anglo-lndian “Cossid”; see vol. vii. 340.
84 Being a merchant he wore dagger and sword, a safe practice as it deters attack and far better than carrying hidden weapons, derringers and revolvers which, originating in the United States, have now been adopted by the most civilised nations in Europe.
85 I have noted (vol. ii. 186, iv. 175) the easy expiation of perjury amongst Moslems, an ugly blot in their moral code.
86 i.e. Enter in the name of Allah.
87 i.e. Damn your soul for leading me into this danger!
88 Arab. “Saff Kamaríyát min al-Zujáj.” The Kamaríyah is derived by Lane (Introd. M.E.) from Kamar=moon; by Baron Von Hammer from Khumárawayh, second of the Banu-Tulún dynasty, at the end of the ixth century A.D., when stained glass was introduced into Egypt. N.B. — It must date from many centuries before. The Kamariyah are coloured glass windows about 2 feet high by 18 inches wide, placed in a row along the upper part of the Mashrabíyah or projecting lattice-window, and are formed of small panes of brightly-stained glass set in rims of gypsum-plaster, the whole framed in wood. Here the allusion is to the “Mamrak” or dome-shaped skylight crowning the room. See vol. viii. 156.
89 i.e. easily arrested them.
90 The reader will not forget the half-penitent Captain of Bandits in Gil Blas.
91 Arab. “Abtál”=champions, athletes, etc., plur. of Batal, a brave: so Batalat=a virago. As the root Batala=it was vain, the form “Battál” may mean either a hero or a bad lot: see vol. viii. 335; x. 72,73.
92 Arab. “Fityán;” plur. of FatB; see vol. i, 67.
93 This was in popular parlance “adding insult to injury:” the blackening their faces was a promise of Hell-fire.
A certain singing-girl was fair of favour and bruited of repute, and it happened one day that she fared forth to a garden a-pleasuring. As she sat in the summer-house, behold, a man lopped of the hand stopped to beg of her, and suddenly entered in at the door. Then he touched her with his stump, saying, “An alms, for the love of Allah!”94 but she answered, “Allah open!” and insulted him. Many days after this, there came to her a messenger and gave her the hire of her going forth.95 So she took with her a hand-maid and an accompanyist;96 and when she came to the place appointed, the messenger brought her into a long passage, at the end whereof was a saloon. “So” (quoth she) “we entered therein and found nobody, but we saw the room made ready for an entertainment with candles, dried fruits and wine, and in another place we saw food and in a third beds. Thereupon we sat down and I looked at him who had opened the door to us, and behold he was lopped of the hand. I misliked this, and when I sat a little longer, there entered a man, who filled the candelabra in the saloon and lit the waxen candles; and behold, he also was handlopped. Then flocked the folk and there entered none except he were lopped of the hand, and indeed the house was full of these companions.97 When the session was complete, the host came in and the company rose to him and seated him in the place of honour. Now he was none other than the man who had fetched me, and he was clad in sumptuous clothes, but his hands were in his sleeves, so that I knew not how it was with them. They brought him food and he ate, he and the company; after which they washed hands and the host began casting at me furtive glances. Then they drank till they were drunken, and when they had taken leave of their wits, the host turned to me and said, ‘Thou dealtest not in friendly fashion with him who sought an alms of thee, and thou saidst to him, “How loathsome art thou!”’´ I considered him and behold, he was the lophand who had accosted me in my pleasance.98 So I asked, ‘O my lord, what is this thou sayest?’ and he answered, ‘Wait; thou shalt remember it.’ So saying, he shook his head and stroked his beard, whilst I sat down for fear. Then he put out his hand to my mantilla and walking-boots and laying them by his side, cried to me, ‘Sing, O accursed!’ Accordingly, I sang till I was tired out, what while they occupied themselves with their case and drank themselves drunk and the heat of their drink redoubled. Presently, the doorkeeper came to me and said, ‘O my lady, fear not; but when thou hast a mind to go, let me know.’ Quoth I, ‘Thinkest thou to delude me?’ and quoth he, ‘Nay, by Allah! But I have ruth on thee for that our Captain and Chief purposeth thee no good and methinketh he will kill thee this night.’ Said I to him, ‘An thou be minded to do me a favour, now is its time;’ and said he, ‘When our Chief riseth to his need and goeth to the Chapel of Ease, I will precede him with the light and leave the door open; and do thou wend whithersoever thou wiliest.’ Then I sang and the Captain cried, “Tis good.’ Replied I, ‘Nay, but thou’rt loathsome.’ He looked at me and rejoined, ‘By Allah, thou shalt never more scent the odour of the world!’ But his comrades said to him, ‘Do it not,’ and gentled him, till he added, ‘An it must be so, and there be no help for it, she shall tarry here a whole year and not fare forth.’ My answer was, ‘I am content to submit to whatso pleaseth thee: if I have failed in respect to thee, thou art of the clement.’ He shook his head and drank, then arose and went out to do his need, whilst his comrades were occupied with what they were about of merry-making and drunkenness and sport. So I winked to my friends and we all slipped out into the corridor. We found the door open and fled forth, unveiled99 and unknowing whither we went; nor did we halt till we had fared afar from the house and happened on a Cook cooking, of whom I asked, ‘Hast thou a mind to quicken the dead?’ He said, ‘Come up;’ so we went up into the shop, and he whispered, ‘Lie down.’ Accordingly, we lay down and he covered us with the Halfah grass,100 wherewith he was used to kindle the fire under the food. Hardly had we settled ourselves in the place when we heard a noise of kicking at the door and people running right and left and questioning the Cook and asking, ‘Hath any one passed by thee?’ Answered he, ‘None hath passed by me.’ But they ceased not to go round about the shop till the day broke, when they turned back, disappointed. Then the Cook removed the reeds and said to us, ‘Rise, for ye are delivered from death.’ So we arose, and we were uncovered, sans veil or mantilla; but the Cook carried us up into his house and we sent to our homes and fetched us veils; and we repented to Allah Almighty and renounced singing, for indeed this was a mighty narrow escape after stress.”101 Those present marvelled at this, and the tenth constable came forward and said, “As for me, there befel me that which was yet rarer than all ye have yet heard.” Quoth Al-Malik al-Zahir, “What was that?” And quoth he, “Deign give ear to me.”
94 Arab. “Shayyan li ‘lláh!” lit.=(Give me some) Thing for (the love of) Allah. The answer in Egypt. is “Allah ya’tík:"=Allah will give it thee (not I), or, “Yaftah ‘Allah,"= Allah open (to thee the door of subsistence): in Marocco “Sir fí hálik” (pron. Sirf hák)= Go about thy business. In all cities there is a formula which suffices the asker; but the Ghashím (Johny Raw) who ignores it, is pestered only the more by his protestations that “he left his purse at home,” etc.
95 i.e. engaged her for a revel and paid her in advance.
96 Arab. “Rasílah”=a (she) partner, to accompany her on the lute.
97 Suggesting that they are all thieves who had undergone legal mutilation.
98 Arab. “Nuzhat-í:” see vol. ii. 81.
99 Arab. “Muhattakát;” usually “with torn veils” (fem. plur.) here “without veils,” metaphor. meaning in disgrace, in dishonour.
100 For this reedy Poa, see vol. ii. 18.
101 I have repeatedly noticed that singing and all music are, in religious parlance, “Makruh,” blameable though not actually damnable; and that the first step after “getting religion” is to forswear them.
A robbery of stuffs had been committed in the city and as it was a great matter I was cited,102 I and my fellows: they103 pressed hard upon us: but we obtained of them some days’ grace and dispersed in search of the stolen goods. As for me, I sallied forth with five men and went round about the city that day; and on the morrow we fared forth into the suburbs. When we found ourselves a parasang or two parasangs away from the city, we waxed athirst; and presently we came to a garden. There I went in alone and going up to the waterwheel,104 entered it and drank and made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed. Presently, up came the keeper of the garden and said to me, “Woe to thee! Who brought thee to this waterwheel?” and he smote me and squeezed my ribs105 till I was like to die. Then he bound me with one of his bulls and made me work the waterwheel, flogging me as I walked round with a cattle-whip106 he had with him, till my heart was a-fire; after which he loosed me and I went out, knowing not the way. Now when I came forth, I fainted: so I sat down till my trouble subsided; then I made for my comrades and said to them, “‘I have found money and malefactor, and I affrighted him not neither troubled him, lest he should flee; but now, come, let us go to him, so we may contrive to lay hold upon him.” Then I took them and we repaired to the keeper of the garden, who had tortured me with tunding, with the intent to make him taste the like of that which he had done with me and lie against him and cause him eat many a stick. So we rushed to the waterwheel and seized the keeper. Now there was with him a youth and, as we were pinioning the gardener, he said, “By Allah, I was not with him and indeed ’tis six months since I entered this city, nor did I set eyes on the stuffs until they were brought hither.” Quoth we, “Show us the stuffs;” upon which he carried us to a place wherein was a pit, beside the waterwheel, and digging there, brought out the stolen goods with not a thread or a stitch of them missing. So we took them and carried the keeper to the Prefecture of Police where we stripped him and beat him with palm-rods till he confessed to thefts manifold. Now I did this by way of mockery against my comrades, and it succeeded. The company marvelled at this story with the utmost marvelling, and the eleventh constable rose and said, “I know a story yet stranger than this: but it happened not to myself.”
102 i.e. to find the thief or make good the loss.
103 i.e. the claimants.
104 Arab. “Sakiyah:” see vol. i. 123.
105 The lower orders of Egypt and Syria are addicted to this bear-like attack; so the negroes imitate fighting-rams by butting with their stony heads. Let me remark that when Herodotus (iii. 12), after Psammenitus’ battle of Pelusium in B.C. 524, made the remark that the Egyptian crania were hardened by shaving and insolation and the Persians were softened by wearing head-cloths, he tripped in his anthropology. The Iranian skull is naturally thin compared with that of the negroid Egyptian and the negro.
106 Arab. “Farkalah,” nkáãÝëëéïí from flagellum; cattle-whip with leathern thongs. Lane, M.E.; Fleischer Glos. 83-84; Dozy s.v.
There was once in times of yore a Chief Officer of Police and there passed by him one day of the days a Jew, hending in hand a basket wherein were five thousand dinars; whereupon quoth that officer to one of his slaves, “Art able to take that money from yonder Jew’s basket?” “Yes,” quoth he, nor did he tarry beyond the next day ere he came to his lord, bringing the basket. “So” (said the officer) “I bade him ‘Go, bury it in such a place;’ whereupon he went and buried it and returned and told me. Hardly had he reported this when there arose a clamour like that of Doomsday and up came the Jew, with one of the King’s officers, declaring that the gold pieces belonged to the Sultan and that he looked to none but us for it. We demanded of him three days’ delay, according to custom and I said to him who had taken the money, ‘Go and set in the Jew’s house somewhat that shall occupy him with himself.’ Accordingly he went and played a mighty fine trick, which was, he laid in a basket a dead woman’s hand, painted with henna and having a gold seal-ring on one of the fingers, and buried that basket under a slab in the Jew’s home. Then we came and searched and found the basket, whereupon without a moment of delay we clapped the Jew in irons for the murder of a woman. As soon as it was the appointed time, there entered to us the man of the Sultan’s guards, who had accompanied the Jew, when he came to complain of the loss of the money,107 and said, ‘The Sultan sayeth to you, Nail up108 the Jew and bring the money, for there is no way by which five thousand gold pieces can be lost.’ Wherefore we knew that our device did not suffice. So I went forth and finding a young man, a Hauráni,109 passing along the road, laid hands on him forthright and stripped him, and whipped him with palm-rods. Then I threw him in jail, ironed, and carrying him to the Prefecture, beat him again, saying to them, ‘This be the robber who stole the coin.’ And we strove to make him confess; but he would not. Accordingly, we beat him a third and a fourth time, till we were aweary and exhausted and he became unable to return a reply; but, when we had made an end of beating and tormenting him, he said, ‘I will fetch the money this very moment.’ Presently we went with him till he came to the place where my slave had buried the gold and he dug there and brought it out; whereat I marvelled with the utmost marvel and we carried it to the Prefect’s house. When the Wali saw the money and made sure of it with his own eyes, he rejoiced with joy exceeding and bestowed on me a robe of honour. Then he restored the coin straightway to the Sultan and we left the youth in durance vile; whilst I said to my slave who had taken the money, ‘Say me, did yonder young man see thee, what time thou buriedst the money?’ and he replied, ‘No, by Allah the Great!’ So I went in to the young man, the prisoner, and plied him with wine110 till he recovered, when I said to him, ‘Tell me how thou stolest the money?’ Answered he, ‘By Allah, I stole it not, nor did I ever set eyes on it till I brought it forth of the earth!’ Quoth I, ‘How so?’ and quoth he, ‘Know that the cause of my falling into your hands was my parent’s imprecation against me; because I entreated her evilly yesternight and beat her and she said to me, ‘By Allah, O my son, the Lord shall assuredly gar the oppressor prevail over thee!’ Now she is a pious woman. So I went out forthright and thou sawest me on my way and didst that which thou didst; and when beating was prolonged on me, my senses failed me and I heard a voice saying to me, ‘Fetch it.’ So I said to you what I said and the Speaker111 guided me till I came to the place and there befel what befel of the bringing out of the money.’ I admired this with the utmost admiration and knew that he was of the sons of the pious. So I bestirred myself for his release and cured him and besought him of acquittance and absolution of responsibility.” All those who were present marvelled at this story with the utmost marvel, and the twelfth constable came forward and said, “I will tell you a pleasant trait that I heard from a certain person, concerning an adventure which befel him with one of the thieves.
107 This clause is supplied to make sense.
108 i.e. to crucify him by nailing him to an upright board.
109 i.e. a native of the Hauran, Job’s country east of Damascus, now a luxuriant waste, haunted only by the plundering Badawin and the Druzes of the hills, who are no better; but its stretches of ruins and league-long swathes of stone over which the vine was trained, show what it has been and what it will be again when the incubus of Turkish mis-rule shall be removed from it. Herr Schuhmacher has lately noted in the Hauran sundry Arab traditions of Job; the village Nawá, where he lived; the Hammam ‘Ayyub, where he washed his leprous skin; the Dayr Ayyub, a monastery said to date from the third century; and the Makan Ayyub at Al-Markáz, where the semi-mythical patriarch and his wife are buried. The “Rock of Job”, covered by a mosque, is a basaltic monolith 7 feet high by 4, and is probably connected with the solar worship of the old PhÉnicians.
110 This habit “torquere mero,” was a favourite with the mediaeval Arabs. Its effect varies greatly with men’s characters, making some open-hearted and communicative, and others more cunning and secretive than in the normal state. So far it is an excellent detection of disposition, and many a man passes off well when sober who has shown himself in liquor a rank snob. Among the lower orders it provokes what the Persians call Bad-mastí (le vin méchant) see Pilgrimage iii. 385.
111 This mystery is not unfamiliar to the modern “spiritualist;” and all Eastern tongues have a special term for the mysterious Voice. See vol. i. 142.
I was passing one day in the market, when I found that a robber had broken into the shop of a shroff, a changer of monies, and thence taken a casket, wherewith he had made off to the burialground. Accordingly I followed him thither and came up to him, as he opened the casket and fell a-looking into it; whereupon I accosted him, saying, “Peace be on you!”112 And he was startled at me; so I left him and went away from him. Some months after this, I met him again under arrest, in the midst of the guards and “men of violence,”113 and he said to them, “Seize this man.” So they laid hands on me and carried me to the Chief of Police, who said, “What hast thou to do with this wight?” The robber turned to me and looking a long while in my face, asked, “Who took this man?” and the officer answered, “Thou badest us take him; so we took him.” And he cried, “I ask refuge of Allah! I know not this man, nor knoweth he me; and I said not that to you but of a person other than this.” So they released me, and a while after the thief met me in the street and saluted me with the salam, saying, “O my lord, fright for fright! Hadst thou taken aught from me, thou hadst a part in the calamity.”114 I replied to him, “Allah be the judge between thee and me!”115 And this is what I have to recount. Then came forward the thirteenth constable and said, “‘I will tell you a tale which a man of my friends told me.”
112 Arab. “Alaykum:” addressed to a single person. This is generally explained by the “Salam” reaching the ears of Invisible Controls, and even the Apostle. We find the words cruelly distorted in the Pentamerone of Giambattista Basile (partly translated by John E. Taylor, London: Bogue, 1848), “The Prince, coming up to the old woman heard an hundred Licasalemme,” p. 383.
113 Arab. “Al-Zalamah”; the policeman; see vol. vi. 214.
114 i.e. in my punishment.
115 i.e. on Doomsday thou shalt get thy deserts.
I went out one night of the nights to the house of a friend and when it was the middle of the night, I sallied forth alone to hie me home. When I came into the road, I espied a sort of thieves and they espied me, whereupon my spittle dried up; but I feigned myself drunken and staggered from side to side, crying out and saying, “I am drunken.” And I went up to the walls right and left and made as if I saw not the thieves, who followed me afoot till I reached my home and knocked at the door, when they went away. Some few days after this, as I stood at the door of my house, behold, there came up to me a young man, with a chain about his neck and with him a trooper, and he said to me, “O my lord, an alms for the love of Allah!” I replied, “Allah open!” and he looked at me a long while and cried, “That which thou shouldst give me would not come to the worth of thy turband or thy waistcloth or what not else of thy habit, to say nothing of the gold and the silver which were about thy person.” I asked, “And how so?” and he answered, “On such a night, when thou fellest into peril and the thieves would have stripped thee, I was with them and said to them, Yonder man is my lord and my master who reared me. So was I and only I the cause of thy deliverance and thus I saved thee from them.” When I heard this, I said to him, “Stop;” and entering my house, brought him that which Allah Almighty made easy to me.116 So he went his way; and this is all I have to say. Then came forward the fourteenth constable and said, “Know that the tale I have to tell is rarer and pleasanter than this; and ’tis as follows.”
116 i.e. what I could well afford.
I had a draper’s shop before I entered this corporation,117 and there used to come to me a person whom I know not, save by his face, and I would give him whatso he sought and have patience with him, till he could pay me. One night, I foregathered with certain of my friends and we sat down to liquor: so we drank and were merry and played at Táb;118 and we made one of us Wazir and another Sultan and a third Torchbearer or Headsman.119 Presently, there came in upon us a spunger, without bidding, and we went on playing, whilst he played with us. Then quoth the Sultan to the Wazir, “Bring the Parasite who cometh in to the folk, without leave or license, that we may enquire into his case; after which I will cut off his head;” so the headsmen arose and dragged the spunger before the Sultan who bade cut off his head. Now there was with them a sword, that would not cut clotted curd;120 so the headsmen smote him therewith and his head flew from his body. When we saw this, the wine fled from our brains and we became in the foulest of plights. Then my friends lifted up the corpse and went out with it, that they might hide it,whilst I took the head and made for the river. Now I was drunken and my clothes were drenched with the blood; and as I passed along the road, I met a robber. When he saw me, he knew me and cried to me, “Such-an-one!” “Well?” said I, and he rejoined, “What is that thou hast with thee?” So I acquainted him with the case and he took the head from me. Then we fared on till we came to the river, where he washed the head and considering it straitly, exclaimed, “By Allah, verily this be my brother, the son of my sire, and he used to spunge upon the folk;” after which he threw that head into the river. As for me, I was like a dead man for dread; but he said to me, “Fear not, neither do thou grieve, for I acquit thee of my brother’s blood.” Presently, he took my clothes and washed them and dried them and put them on me; after which he said to me, “Get thee gone to thy house.” So I returned to my house and he accompanied me, till I came thither, when he said to me, “Allah never desolate thee! I am thy friend Such-an-one, who used to take of thee goods on credit, and I owe thee a kindness; but henceforward thou wilt never see me more.” Then he went his ways. The company marvelled at the manliness of this man and his clemency121 and courtesy, and the Sultan said, “Tell us another of thy stories, O Shahrazad.”122 She replied, “ ’Tis well! They set forth123
A Merry Jest of a Clever Thief.
A thief of the thieves of the Arabs went one night to a certain man’s house, to steal from a heap of wheat there, and the people of the house surprised him. Now on the heap was a great copper tasse, and the thief buried himself in the corn and covered his head with the tasse, so that the folk found him not and went their ways; but as they were going, behold, there came a mighty great fart124 forth of the corn. So they went up to the tasse and raising it, discovered the thief and laid hands on him. Quoth he, “I have saved you the trouble of seeking me: for I purposed, in breaking wind, to direct you to my hiding place; wherefore do you be easy with me and have ruth on me, so may Allah have ruth on you!” Accordingly they let him go and harmed him not. “And for another story of the same kind” (she continued), “hearken to
The Tale of the Old Sharper.
There was once an old man renowned for clever roguery, and he went, he and his mates, to one of the markets and stole thence a quantity of stuffs: then they separated and returned each to his quarter. Awhile after this, the old man assembled a company of his fellows and, as they sat at drink, one of them pulled out a costly piece of cloth and said, “Is there any one of you will dare sell this in its own market whence it was stolen, that we may confess his superior subtlety?” Quoth the old man, “I will;” and they said, “Go, and Allah Almighty open to thee the door!” So early on the morrow, he took the stuff and carrying it to the market whence it had been stolen, sat down at the very shop out of which it had been purloined and gave it to the broker, who hent it in hand and cried it for sale. Its owner knew it and bidding for it, bought it and sent after the Chief of Police, who seized the Sharper and seeing him an old man of grave presence and handsomely clad said to him, “Whence hadst thou this piece of stuff?” Quoth he, “I had it from this market and from yonder shop where I was sitting.” Quoth the Wali, “Did its owner sell it to thee?” and quoth the robber, “Not so; I stole it, this and other than it.” Then said the Chief, “How camest thou to bring it for sale to the place whence thou stolest it?” “I will not tell my tale save to the Sultan, for that I have a profitable counsel wherewith I would fief bespeak him.” “Name it!” “Art thou the Sultan?” “No!” “I’ll not tell it save to himself.” Accordingly the Wali carried him up to the Sultan and he said I have a counsel for thee, O my lord.” Asked the Sultan, “What is thy counsel?” And the thief said, “I repent and will deliver into thy hand all who are evildoers, and whomsoever I bring not, I will stand in his stead.” Cried the Sultan, “Give hum a robe of honour and accept his profession of penitence.” So he went down from the presence and returning to his comrades, related to them that which had passed, when they confessed his subtlety and gave him that which they had promised him. Then he took the rest of the booty and went up therewith to the Sultan, who, seeing him, recognised him and he was magnified in the royal eyes and the king commanded that naught should be taken from him. After this, when he went down, the Sultan’s attention was diverted from him, little by little, till the case was forgotten, and so he saved the booty for himself. Those present marvelled at this and the fifteenth constable came forward and said, “Know that among those who make a trade of trickery are those whom Allah Almighty taketh on their own testimony against themselves.” It was asked him, “How so?” and he began to relate
117 Arab. Hirfah=a trade, a guild, a corporation: here the officers of police.
118 Gen. “tip-cat” (vol. ii. 314.) Here it would mean a rude form of tables or backgammon, in which the players who throw certain numbers are dubbed Sultan and Wazir, and demean themselves accordingly. A favourite bit of fun with Cairene boys of a past generation was to “make a Pasha;” and for this proceeding, see Pilgrimage, vol. i. 119.
119 In Marocco there is great difficulty about finding an executioner who becomes obnoxious to the Thár, vendetta or blood-revenge. For salting the criminal’s head, however, the soldiers seize upon the nearest Jew and compel him to clean out the brain and to prepare it for what is often a long journey. Hence, according to some, the local name of the Ghetto, Al-Malláh,=the salting-ground.
120 Mr. Payne suspects that “laban,” milk, esp. artificially soured (see vol. vi, 201), is a clerical error for “jubn”=cheese. This may be; but I follow the text as the exaggeration is greater
121 i.e. in relinquishing his blood-wite for his brother.
122 The Story-teller, probably to relieve the monotony of the Constables’ histories, here returns to the original cadre. We must not forget that in the Bresl. Edit. the Nights are running on, and that the charming queen is relating the adventure of Al-Malik al-Zahir.
123 Arab. “Za’amu”=they opine, they declare, a favourite term with the Bresl. Edit.
124 Arab. “Zirtah” the coarsest of terms for what the French nuns prettily termed un sonnet; I find ung sonnet also in Nov. ii. of the Cent nouvelles Nouvelles. Captain Lockett (p. 32) quotes Strepsiades in The Clouds âkïíô” iïìéä¬ ðáððÜî “because he cannot express the bathos of the original (in the Tale of Ja’afar and the old Badawi) without descending to the oracular language of Giacoma Rodogina, the engastrymythian prophetess.” But Sterne was by no means so squeamish. The literature of this subject is extensive, beginning with “Peteriana, ou l’art de peter,” which distinguishes 62 different tones. After dining with a late friend en garcon we went into his sitting-room and found on the table 13 books and booklets upon the Crepitus Ventris, and there was some astonishment as not a few of the party had never seen one.
It is told of a thieving person, one of the braves, that he used to rob and cut the way by himself upon caravans, and whenever the Chief of Police and the Governors sought him, he would flee from them and fortify himself in the mountains. Now it came to pass that a certain man journeyed along the road wherein was that robber, and this man was single-handed and knew not the sore perils besetting his way. So the highwayman came out upon him and said to him, “Bring out that which is with thee, for I mean to kill thee and no mistake. ‘ Quoth the traveller, “Kill me not, but annex these saddle-bags and divide that which is in them and take to thee the fourth part.” And the thief answered, “I will not take aught but the whole.”126 Rejoined the traveller, “Take half, and let me go;” but the robber replied, “I will have naught but the whole, and eke I will kill thee.” So the wayfarer said, “Take it.” Accordingly the highwayman took the saddle-bags and offered to slay the traveller, who said, “What is this? Thou hast against me no blood-feud that should make my slaughter incumbent.” Quoth the other, “Needs must I kill thee;” whereupon the traveller dismounted from his horse and grovelled before him, beseeching the thief and bespeaking him fair. The man hearkened not to his prayers, but cast him to the ground; whereupon the traveller raised his eyes and seeing a francolin dying over him, said, in his agony, “O Francolin,127 bear testimony that this man slayeth me unjustly and wickedly; for indeed I have given him all that was with me and entreated him to let me go, for my children’s sake; yet would he not consent. But be thou witness against him, for Allah is not unmindful of deeds which the oppressors do.” The highwayman paid no heed to what he heard, but smote him and cut off his head. After this, the rulers compounded with the highwayman for his submission, and when he came before them, they enriched him and he became in such favour with the lieutenant of the Sultan that he used to eat and drink with him and there befel between them familiar converse which lasted a long while till in fine there chanced a curious chance. The lieutenant of the Sultan one day of the days made a banquet, and therein was a roasted francolin, which when the robber saw, he laughed a loud laugh. The lieutenant was angered against him and said to him, “What is the meaning of thy laughter? Seest thou any fault or dost thou mock at us, of thy lack of good manners?” Answered the highwayman, “Not so, by Allah, O my lord; but I saw yonder francolin, which brought to my mind an extraordinary thing; and ’twas on this wise. In the days of my youth, I used to cut the way, and one day I waylaid a man, who had with him a pair of saddle-bags and money therein. So I said to him, ‘Leave these saddle-bags, for I mean to slay thee.’ Quoth he, ‘Take the fourth part of that which is in them and leave me the rest;’ and quoth I, ‘Needs must I take the whole and kill thee without mistake.’ Then said he, ‘Take the saddle bags and let me wend my way;’ but I answered, ‘There is no help but that I slay thee.’ As we were in this contention, behold, he saw a francolin and turning to it, said, ‘Bear testimony against him, O Francolin, that he slayeth me unjustly and letteth me not go to my children, for all he hath taken my money.’ However, I had no pity on him neither hearkened to that which he said, but smote him and slew him and concerned not myself with the evidence of the francolin.” His story troubled the lieutenant of the Sultan and he was enraged against him with sore rage; so he drew his sword and smiting him, cut off his head while he sat at table; whereupon a voice recited these couplets —
“An wouldst not be injured, injure not;
But do good and from Allah win goodly lot,
For what happeth by Allah is doomed to be
Yet thine acts are the root I would love thee wot.”128
Now this voice was the francolin which bore witness against him. The company present marvelled at this tale and all cried, “Woe to the oppressor!” Then came forward the sixteenth constable and said, “And I for another will tell you a marvellous story which is on this wise.”
125 This tale is a replica of the Cranes of Ibycus. This was a Rhegium man who when returning to Corinth, his home, was set upon by robbers and slain. He cast his dying eyes heavenwards and seeing a flight of cranes called upon them to avenge him and this they did by flying over the theatre of Corinth on a day when the murderers were present and one cried out, “Behold the avengers of Ibycus!” Whereupon they were taken and put to death. So says Paulus Hieronymus, and the affecting old tale has newly been sung in charming verse by Mr. Justin H. McCarthy (“Serapion.” London: Chatto and Windus).
126 This scene is perfectly true to Badawi life; see my Pilgrimage iii. 68.
127 Arab. “Durráj”: so it is rendered in the French translation of Al-Masudi, vii. 347.
128 A fair friend found the idea of Destiny in The Nights become almost a night-mare. Yet here we suddenly alight upon the true Johnsonian idea that conduct makes fate. Both extremes are as usual false. When one man fights a dozen battles unwounded and another falls at the first shot we cannot but acknowledge the presence of that mysterious “luck” whose laws, now utterly unknown to us, may become familiar with the ages. I may note that the idea of an appointed hour beyond which life may not be prolonged, is as old as Homer (Il.??? 487).
The reader has been told (vol. vii. 135) that “Kazá” is Fate in a general sense, the universal and eternal Decree of Allah, while “Kadar” is its special and particular application to man’s lot, that is Allah’s will in bringing forth events at a certain time and place. But the former is popularly held to be of two categories, one Kazá al-Muham which admits of modification and Kazá al-Muhkam, absolute and unchangeable, the doctrine of irresistible predestination preached with so much energy by St. Paul (Romans ix. 15-24), and all the world over men act upon the former while theoretically holding to the latter. Hence “Chinese Gordon,” whose loss to England is greater than even his friends suppose, wrote “It is a delightful thing to be a fatalist,” meaning that the Divine direction and pre-ordination of all things saved him so much trouble of forethought and afterthought. In this tenet he was not only a Calvinist but also a Moslem whose contradictory ideas of Fate and Freewill (with responsibility) are not only beyond Reason but are contrary to Reason; and although we may admit the argumentum ad verecundiam, suggesting that there are things above (or below) human intelligence, we are not bound so to do in the case of things which are opposed to the common sense of mankind. Practically, however, the Moslem attitude is to be loud in confessing belief of “Fate and Fortune” before an event happens and after it wisely to console himself with the conviction that in no way could he have escaped the occurrence. And the belief that this destiny was in the hands of Allah gives him a certain dignity especially in the presence of disease and death which is wanting in his rival religionist the Christian. At the same time the fanciful picture of the Turk sitting stolidly under a shower of bullets because Fate will not find him out unless it be so written is a freak i.e. fancy rarely found in real life.
There are four great points of dispute amongst the schoolmen in Al-Islam; (1) the Unity and Attributes of Allah, (2) His promises and threats, (3) historical as the office of Imám and (4) Predestination and the justice thereof. On the latter subject opinions range over the whole cycle of possibilities. For instance, the Mu’tazilites, whom the learned Weil makes the Protestants and Rationalists of Al-Islam, contend that the word of Allah was created in subjecto, ergo, an accident and liable to perish, and one of their school, the Kádiriyah (=having power) denies the existence of Fate and contends that Allah did not create evil but left man an absolutely free agent. On the other hand, the Jabarlyah (or Mujabbar=the compelled) is an absolute Fatalist who believes in the omnipotence of Destiny and deems that all wisdom consists in conforming with its decrees. Al-Mas’udi (chaps. cxxvii.) illustrates this by the saying of a Moslem philosopher that chess was the invention of a Mu’tazil, while Nard (backgammon with dice) was that of a Mujabbar proving that play can do nothing against Destiny. Between the two are the Ashariyah; trimmers whose standpoint is hard to define; they would say, “Allah creates the power by which man acts, but man wills the action,” and care not to answer the query, “Who created the will?” (See Pocock, Sale and the Dabistan ii. 352.) Thus Sa’adi says in the Gulistan (iii. 2), “The wise have pronounced that though daily bread be allotted, yet it is so conditionally upon using means to acquire it, and although calamity be predestined, yet it is right to secure oneself against the portals by which it may have access.” Lastly, not a few doctors of Law and Religion hold that Kaza al-Muhkam, however absolute, regards only man’s after or final state; and upon this subject they are of course as wise as other people, and — no wiser. Lane has treated the Moslem faith in Destiny very ably and fully (Arabian Nights, vol. i. pp. 58-61), and he being a man of moderate and orthodox views gives valuable testimony.
I went forth one day of the days, intending to travel, and suddenly fell upon a man whose wont it was to cut the way. When he came up with me he offered to slay me and I said to him, “I have naught with me whereby thou mayst profit.” Quoth he, “My profit shall be the taking of thy life.” I asked, “What is the cause of this? Hath there been enmity between us aforetime?” and he answered, “Nay; but needs must I slay thee.” Thereupon I ran away from him to the river side; but he caught me up and casting me to the ground, sat down on my breast. So I sought help of the Shaykh of the Pilgrims129 and cried to him, “Protect me from this oppressor!” And indeed he had drawn a knife to cut my throat when, lo and behold! there came a mighty great crocodile forth of the river and snatching him up from off my breast plunged into the water, with him still hending knife in hand, even within the jaws of the beast: whilst I abode extolling Almighty Allah, and rendering thanks for my preservation to him who had delivered me from the hand of that wrong-doer.130
129 Arab. “Shaykh al-Hujjáj.” Some Santon like Hasan al-Marábit, then invoked by the Meccan pilgrims: see Pilgrimage, i. 321. It can hardly refer to the famous Hajjáj bin Yúsuf al-Sakafí (vol. iv. 3).
130 Here the Stories of the Sixteen Constables abruptly end, after the fashion of the Bresl. Edit. They are summarily dismissed even without the normal “Bakhshísh.”
Know thou, O King of the Age, that there was in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, in the city of Baghdad the Abode of Peace, a Caliph Harun al-Rashid highs, and he had cup-companions and tale-tellers to entertain him by night. Among his equerries was a man named Abdullah bin Náfi’, who stood high in favour with him and dear to him, so that he did not forget him a single hour. Now it came to pass, by the decree of Destiny, that it became manifest to Abdullah how he was grown of small account with the Caliph, who paid no heed unto him nor, if he absented himself, did he ask after him, as had been his habit. This was grievous to Abdullah and he said within himself, “Verily, the soul of the Commander of the Faithful and his Wazir are changed towards me and nevermore shall I see in him that cordiality and affection wherewith he was wont to treat me.” And this was chagrin-full to him and concern grew upon him, so that he recited these couplets:—
“Whoso’s contemned in his home and land
Should, to better his case, in self-exile hie:
So fly the house where contempt awaits,
Nor on fires of grief for the parting fry;
Crude Ambergris132 is but offal where
’Tis born; but abroad on our necks shall stye;
And Kohl at home is a kind of stone,
Cast on face of earth and on roads to lie;
But when borne abroad it wins highest worth
And thrones between eyelid and ball of eye.”
(Quoth the sayer), Then he could brook this matter no longer; so he went forth from the dominions of the Prince of True Believers, under presence of visiting certain of his kith and kin, and took with him nor servant nor comrade, neither acquainted any with his intent, but betook himself to the road and fared deep into the wold and the sandwastes, unknowing whither he went. After awhile, he unexpectedly fell in with travellers who were making the land of Hind and journeyed with them. When he came thither, he lighted down in a city of that country and housed him in one of the lodging-houses; and there he abode a while of days, relishing not food neither solacing himself with sleep; nor was this for lack of dirhams or diners, but for that his mind was occupied with musing upon the shifts of Destiny and bemoaning himself for that the revolving sphere had turned against him in enmity, and the days had decreed unto him the disfavour of our lord the Imam.133 After such fashion he abode a space of days, and presently he homed him in the land and took to himself friends and got him many familiars, with whom he addressed himself to diversion and good cheer. He used also to go a-pleasuring with his companions and their hearts were solaced by his company and he entertained them every evening with stories and displays of his manifold accomplishments134 and diverted them with delectable verses and told them abundance of stories and histories. Presently, the report of him reached King Jamhúr, lord of Kashgar of Hind, who sent in quest of him, and great was his desire to see him. So Abdullah repaired to his court and going in to him, kissed ground before him; and Jamhur welcomed him and treated him with kindness and bade lodge him in the guest-house, where he abode three days, at the end of which the king sent to him a chamberlain of his chamberlains and bade bring him to the presence. When he came before him, he greeted him, and the truchman accosted him, saying, “Verily, King Jamhur hath heard of thy report, that thou art a pleasant cup-companion and an eloquent teller of night tales, and he would have thee company with him o’nights and entertain him with that which thou knowest of histories and pleasant stories and verses.” And he made answer, ‘ To hear is to obey!” (Quoth Abdullah bin Nafi’,) So I became his boon-companion and entertained him by night with tales and talk; and this pleased him with the utmost pleasure and he took me into favour and bestowed on me robes of honour and set apart for me a lodging; indeed he was bountiful exceedingly to me and could not brook to be parted from me a single hour. So I sojourned with him a while of time and every night I caroused and conversed with him till the most part of the dark hours was past; and when drowsiness overcame him, he would rise and betake himself to his sleeping-place, saying to me, Forsake not my service and forego not my presence.’ And I made answer with ‘Hearing and obeying.’ Now the king had a son, a nice child, called the Emir Mohammed, who was winsome of youth and sweet of speech: he had read books and had perused histories and he loved above all things in the world the telling and hearing of verses and tales and anecdotes. He was dear to his father King Jamhur, for that he owned no other son than he on life, and indeed he had reared him in the lap of love and he was gifted with exceeding beauty and loveliness, brilliancy and perfect grace: he had also learnt to play upon the lute and upon all manner instruments and he was used to converse and company with friends and brethren. Now it was his wont when the king arose seeking his sleeping-chamber, to sit in his place and require me to entertain him with tales and verses and pleasant anecdotes; and on this wise I abode with them both a great while in all joyance and delight, and the Prince still loved me with mighty great love and treated me with the utmost tenderness. It fortuned one day that the king’s son came to me, after his sire had withdrawn, and cried, ‘O Ibn Nafi’!’ ‘At thy service, O my lord;’ ‘I would have thee tell me a wondrous story and a marvellous matter, which thou hast never related either to me or to my father Jamhur.’ ‘O my lord, what story is this that thou desires” of me and what kind shall it be of the kinds?’ ‘It mattereth little, so it be a goodly story, whether it befel of olden tide or in these times.’ ‘O my lord, I know by rote many stories of various kinds; so which of the kinds preferrest thou, and wilt thou have a story of mankind or of Jinn kind?’ ‘ ’Tis well! An thou have espied aught with thine eyes and heard it with thine ears, tell it me.’ Then he bethought himself and said to me, ‘I conjure thee by my life, tell me a tale of the tales of the Jinn and that which thou hast heard of them and seen of them!’ I replied, ‘O my son, indeed thou conjures” me by a mighty conjuration; so lend an ear to the goodliest of stories, ay, and the strangest of them and the pleasantest and rarest.’ Quoth the Prince, ‘Say on, for I am attentive to thy speech;’ and quoth I, ‘Hear then, O my son,
The Viceregent of the Lord of the three Worlds, Harun al-Rashid, had a boon companion of the number of his boon-companions, by name Ishak bin Ibrahim al-Nadim al-Mausili,135 who was the most accomplished of the folk of his time in smiting upon the lute; and of the Commander of the Faithful’s love for him, he set apart for him a palace of the choicest of his palaces, wherein he was wont to instruct hand-maidens in the arts of singing and of lute playing. If any slave-girl became, by his instruction, clever in the craft, he carried her before the Caliph, who bade her perform upon the lute; and if she pleased him, he would order her to the Harim; else would he restore her to Ishak’s palace. One day, the Commander of the Faithful’s breast was straitened; so he sent after his Wazir Ja’afar the Barmecide and Ishak the cup-companion and Masrur the eunuch, the Sworder of his vengeance; and when they came, he changed his habit and disguised himself, whilst Ja’afar and Ishak and Masrur and al-Fazl136 and Yúnus137 (who were also present) did the like. Then he went out, he and they, by the postern, to the Tigris and taking boat fared on till they came to near Al Táf,138 when they landed and walked till they came to the gate of the high street. Here there met them an old man, handsome in his hoariness and of a venerable bearing and a dignified, agreeable of aspect and apparel. He kissed the earth before Ishak al-Mausili (for that he knew only him of the company, the Caliph being disguised, and deemed the others certain of his friends), and said to him, “O my lord, there is presently with me a hand-maid, a lutanist, never saw eyes the like of her nor the like of her grace, and indeed I was on my way to pay my respects to thee and give thee to know of her, but Allah, of His favour, hath spared me the trouble. So now I desire to show her to thee, and if she take thy fancy, well and good; otherwise I will sell her.” Quoth Ishak, “Go before me to thy quarters,139 till I come to thee and see her.” The old man kissed his hand and went away; whereupon quoth Al-Rashid to him, “O Ishak, who is yonder man and what is his want?” The other replied, “O my lord, this is a man Sa’íd the Slave-dealer hight, and ’tis he that buyeth us maidens and Mamelukes. He declareth that with him is a fair slave, a lutanist, whom he hath withheld from sale, for that he could not fairly sell her till he had passed her before me in review.” Quoth the Caliph, “Let us go to him so we may see her, by way of solace, and sight what is in the slave-dealer’s quarters of slave-girls;” and quoth Ishak, “Command belongeth to Allah and to the Commander of the Faithful” Then he forewent them and they followed in his track till they came to the slave-dealer’s quarters and found a building tall of wall and large of lodgment, with sleeping cells and chambers therein, after the number of the slave-girls, and folk sitting upon the wooden benches. So Ishak entered, he and his company and seating themselves in the place of honour, amused themselves by looking at the hand-maids and Mamelukes and watching how they were bought and sold, till the vending came to an end, when some of the folk went away and some remained seated. Then cried the slave-dealer, “Let none sit with us except whoso purchaseth by the thousand diners and upwards.” Accordingly those present withdrew and there remained none but Al-Rashid and his suite; whereupon the slave-dealer called the damsel, after he had caused set her a chair of Fawwák,140 lined with Grecian brocade, and she was like the sun shining high in the shimmering sky. When she entered, she saluted and sitting down, took the lute and smote upon it, after she had touched its strings and tuned it, so that all present were amazed. Then she sang thereto these couplets:
“Breeze o’ Morn, an thou breathe o’er the loved one’s land,
Deliver my greeting to all the dear band!
And declare to them still I am pledged to their love
And my long~ng excels all that lover unmanned:
O ye who have blighted my heart, ears and eyes,
My passion and ecstasy grow out of hand;
And torn is my sprite every night with desire,
And nothing of sleep can my eyelids command.”
Ishak exclaimed, “Brave, O damsel! By Allah, this is a fair hour!” Whereupon she sprang up and kissed his hand, saying, ‘O my lord, in very sooth the hands stand still before thy presence and the tongues at thy sight, and the eloquent when confronting thee wax dumb; but thou art the looser of the veil.”141 Then she clung to him and cried, “Stand;” so he stood and said to her, “Who art thou and what is thy need?” She raised a corner of the veil, and behold she was a damsel as she were the full moon rising or the levee glancing, with two side-locks of hair which fell down to her anklets. She kissed his hand and said to him, “O my lord, know that I have been in these quarters some five months, during which I have withheld myself from sale till thou shouldst be present and see me; and yonder slave-dealer also made thy coming a pretext for not vending me, and forbade me for all I sought of him night and day that he should cause thee come hither and vouchsafe me thy company and gar me and thee forgather.” Quoth Ishak, “Tell me what thou wouldst have;” and quoth she, “I beseech thee, by Allah Almighty, that thou buy me, so I may be with thee by way of service.” He asked, “Is that thy desire?” and she answered, “Yes.” So Ishak returned to the slave-dealer and said to him, “Ho thou, Shaykh Sa’íd!” Said the old man, “At thy service, O my lord,” and Ishak continued, “In the corridor is a chamber and therein wones a damsel pale and wan. What is her price in dirhams and how much cost thou ask for her?” Quoth the slave-dealer, “She whom thou mentionest, O my lord, is called Tohfat al-Humaká?”142 Ishak asked, “What is the meaning of Al-Humaka?” and the old man answered, “Her price hath been weighed and paid an hundred times and she still saith, Show me him who would buy me; and when I show her to him she saith, This one I mislike; he hath in him such and such a default. And in every one who would fain buy her she noteth some defect or other, so that none careth now to purchase her and none seeketh her, for fear lest she find some fault in him.” Quoth Ishak, “She seeketh at this present to sell herself; so go thou to her and inquire of her and see her price and send her to the palace.” Quoth Sa’id!” “O my lord, her price is an hundred diners, though, were she free of this paleness that is upon her face, she would be worth a thousand gold pieces; but wanton folly and wanness have diminished her value; and behold I will go to her and consult her of this.” So he betook himself to her and enquired of her, “Wilt thou be sold to Ishak bin Ibrahim al-Mausili?” She replied, “Yes,” and he said, “Leave folly, for to whom cloth it happen to be in the house of Ishak the cup-companion?”143 Thereupon Ishak went forth the slave-dealer’s quarters and overtook Al-Rashid who had preceded him; and they ceased not walking till they came to their landing-place, where they embarked in the boat and fared on to Thaghr al-Khánakah.144 As for the slave-dealer, he sent the damsel to the house of Ishak al-Nadim, whose slave-girls took her and carried her to the Hammam. Then each damsel gave her somewhat of her gear and they decked her with earrings and bracelets, so that she redoubled in beauty and became as she were the moon on the night of its full. When Ishak returned home from the Caliph’s palace, Tohfah rose to him and kissed his hand; and he saw that which the hand-maids had done with her and thanked them for so doing and said to them, “Let her home in the house of instruction and bring her instruments of music, and if she be apt at song teach her; and may Allah Almighty vouchsafe her health and weal!” So there passed over her three months, while she homed with him in the house of instruction, and they brought her the instruments of music. Furthermore, as time went on she was vouchsafed health and soundness and her beauty waxed many times brighter than before and her pallor was changed to white and red, so that she became a seduction to all who saw her. One day, Ishak bade summon all who were with him of slave-girls from the house of instruction and carried them up to Al-Rashid’s palace, leaving none in his house save Tohfah and a cookmaid; for that he thought not of Tohfah, nor did she come to his memory, and none of the damsels reminded him of her. When she saw that the house was empty of the slave-girls, she took the lute (now she was singular in her time for smiting upon the lute, nor had she her like in the world, no, not Ishak himself, nor any other) and sang thereto these couplets:—
“When soul desireth one that is its mate
It never winneth dear desire of Fate:
My life for him whose tortures tare my frame,
And dealt me pine he can alone abate!
He saith (that only he to heal mine ill,
Whose sight is medicine to my doleful state),
‘O scoffer-wight, how long wilt mock my woe
As though did Allah nothing else create?’ ”
Now Ishak had returned to his house on an occasion that called for him; and when he entered the vestibule, he heard a sound of singing, the like whereof he had never heard in the world, for that it was soft as the breeze and more strengthening than oil145 of almonds. So the pleasure of it get hold of him and delight so seized him, that he fell down fainting in the vestibule. Tohfah heard the noise of footfalls and laying the lute from her hand, went out to see what was the matter. She found her lord Ishak lying aswoon in the entrance; so she took him up and strained him to her bosom, saying, “I conjure thee in Allah’s name, O my lord, tell me, hath aught of ill befallen thee?” When he heard her voice, he recovered from his fainting and asked her, “Who art thou?” She answered, “I am thy slave-girl, Tohfah;” and he said to her, “Art thou indeed Tohfah?” “Yes,” replied she; and he, “By Allah, I had indeed forgotten thee and remembered thee not till this moment!” Then he looked at her and said, “Verily, thy case is altered to other case and thy wanness is changed to rosiness and thou hast redoubled in beauty and loveliness. But was it thou who was singing just now?” She was troubled and affrighted and answered, “Even I, O my lord;” whereupon Ishak seized upon her hand and carrying her into the house, said to her, “Take the lute and sing; for never saw I nor heard thy like in smiting upon the lute; no, not even myself!” Quoth she, “O my lord, thou mockest me. Who am I that thou shouldst say all this to me? Indeed, this is but of thy kindness.” Quoth he, “Nay, by Allah, I said but the truth to thee and I am not of those on whom presence imposeth For these three months nature hath not moved thee to take the lute and sing thereto, and this is naught save a rare thing and a strange. But all this cometh of strength in the art and thy self-restraint.” Then he bade her sing; and she said, “Hearkening and obedience.” So she took the lute and tightening its strings to the sticking-point, smote thereon a number of airs, so that she confounded Ishak’s wit and for delight he was like to fly. Then she returned to the first mode and sang thereto these couplets:—
“By your ruined stead aye I stand and stay,
Nor shall change or dwelling depart us tway!
No distance of homestead shall gar me forget
Your love, O friends, but yearn alway:
Ne’er flies your phantom the babes of these eyne
You are moons in Nighttide’s murkest array:
And with growing passion mine unrest grows
And each morn I find union dissolved in woes.”
When she had made an end of her song and laid down the lute, Ishak looked fixedly on her, then took her hand and offered to kiss it; but she snatched it from him and said to him, “Allah, O my lord, do not that!”146 Cried he, “Be silent. By Allah, I had said that there was not in the world the like of me; but now I have found my dinár in the art but a dánik,147 for thou art more excellent of skill than I, beyond comparison or approximation or calculation! This very day will I carry148 thee up to the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, and when his glance lighteth on thee, thou wilt become a Princess of womankind. So Allah, Allah upon thee, O my lady, whenas thou becomes” of the household of the Prince of True Believers, do not thou forget me!” She replied, “Allah, O my lord, thou art the root of my fortunes and in thee is my heart fortified.” Thereat he took her hand and made a covenant with her of this and she swore to him that she would not forget him Then said he to her, “By Allah, thou art the desire of the Commander of the Faithful! Now take the lute and sing a song which thou shalt sing to the Caliph, when thou goest in to him” So she took the lute and tuning it, improvised these couplets:—
“His lover hath ruth on his woeful mood
And o’erwept him as still by his couch he149 stood:
And garred him drink of his lip-dews and wine150
Ere he died and this food was his latest good.”
Ishak stared at her and seizing her hand, said to her, “Know that I am bound by an oath that, when the singing of a damsel pleaseth me, she shall not end her song but before the Prince of True Believers. But now tell me, how came it that thou tarriedst with the slave-dealer five months and wast not sold to any one, and thou of this skill, especially when the price set on thee was no great matter?” Hereat she laughed and answered, “O my lord, my story is a wondrous and my case a marvellous Know that I belonged aforetime to a Maghribi merchant,who bought me when I was three years old, and there were in his house many slave-girls and eunuchs; but I was the dearest to him of them all So he kept me with him and used not to address me otherwise than, ‘O daughterling,’ and indeed to this moment I am a clean maid. Now there was with him a damsel, a lutanist, and she reared me and taught me the art, even as thou seest. Then was my master removed to the mercy of Allah Almighty151 and his sons divided his monies. I fell to the lot of one of them; but ’twas only a little while ere he had wasted all his wealth and there was left him naught of coin. So I gave up the lute, fearing lest I should fall into the hand of a man who knew not my worth, for well I wot that needs must my master sell me; and indeed but a few days passed ere he carried me forth to the quarters of the slave merchant who buyeth damsels and displayeth them to the Commander of the Faithful. Now I desired to learn the art and mystery; so I refused to be sold to other than thou, until Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) vouchsafed me my desire of thy presence; whereupon I came out to thee, as soon as I heard of thy coming, and besought thee to buy me. Thou heartenedst my heart and broughtest me; and since I entered thy house, O my lord, I have not taken up the lute till now; but to-day, when I was left private by the slave-girls, I took it; and my purpose in this was that I might see if my hand were changed152 or not. As I was singing, I heard a footfall in the vestibule; so springing up, I laid the lute from my hand and going forth to see what was to do, found thee, O my lord, after this fashion.” Quoth Ishak, “Indeed, this was of thy fair fortune. By Allah, I know not that which thou knowest in this art!” Then he arose and opening a chest, brought out therefrom striped clothes,153 netted with jewels and great pearls and other costly gems and said to her, “In the name of Allah, don these, O my lady Tohfah.” So she arose and donned that dress and veiled herself and went up with Ishak to the palace of the Caliphate, where he made her stand without, whilst he himself went in to the Prince of True Believers (with whom was Ja’afar the Barmaki) and kissing the ground before him, said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have brought thee a damsel, never saw eyes of seer her like for excellence in singing and touching the lute; and her name is Tohfah.” Al-Rashid asked, “And where be this Tohfah154 who hath not her like in the world?” Answered Ishak, “Yonder she standeth, O Commander of the Faithful;” and he acquainted the Caliph with her case from first to last. Then said Al-Rashid, “ ’Tis a marvel to hear thee praise a slave-girl after this fashion. Admit her that we may look upon her, for verily the morning may not be hidden.” Accordingly, Ishak bade admit her; so she entered, and when her eyes fell upon the Prince of True Believers, she kissed ground before him and said, “The Peace be upon thee, O Commander of the faithful Fold and Asylum of all who the true Creed hold and Quickener of justice in the Worlds threefold! Allah make thy feet tread on safest wise and give thee joy of what He gave thee in generous guise and make thy harbourage Paradise and Hell-fire that of thine enemies!” Quoth Al-Rashid, “And on thee be the Peace, O damsel! Sit.” So she sat down and he bade her sing; whereupon she took the lute and tightening its strings, played thereon in many modes, so that the Prince of True Believers and Ja’afar were confounded in sprite and like to fly for delight. Then she returned to the first mode and improvised these couplets:—
“O mine eyes! I swear by him I adore,
Whom pilgrims seek thronging Arafát;
An thou call my name on the grave of me,
I’ll reply to thy call tho’ my bones go rot:
I crave none for friend of my heart save thee;
So believe me, for true are the well-begot.”
Al-Rashid considered her comeliness and the goodliness of her singing and her eloquence and what other qualities she comprised and rejoiced with joy exceeding; and for the stress of that which overcame him of delight, he descended from the couch and sitting down with her upon the floor, said to her, “Thou hast done well, O Tohfah. By Allah, thou art indeed a choice gift!”155 Then he turned to Ishak and said to him, “Thou dealtest not justly, O Ishak, in the description of this damsel, nor didst thou fairly set forth all that she comprised of charms and art; for that, by Allah, she is inconceivably more skilful than thou; and I know of this craft that which none knowest save I!” Exclaimed the Wazir Ja’afar, “By Allah, thou sayst sooth, O my lord, O Commander of the Faithful. Indeed, she hath done away my wit, hath this damsel.” Quoth Ishak, “By Allah, O Prince of True Believers, I had said that there was not on the face of the earth one who knew the art of the lute like myself; but when I heard her, my skill became nothing worth in mine eyes.” Then said the Caliph to her, “Repeat thy playing, O Tohfah.” So she repeated it and he cried to her, “Well done!” Moreover, he said to Ishak, “Thou hast indeed brought me a marvellous thing, one which is worth in mine eyes the empire of the world.” Then he turned to Masrur the eunuch and said to him, “Carry Tohfah to the chamber of honour.” Accordingly, she went away with the Castrato and the Caliph looked at her raiment and ornaments and seeing her clad in clothing of choice, asked Ishak, “O Ishak, whence hath she these robes?” Answered he, “O my lord, these are somewhat of thy bounties and thy largesse, and they are a gift to her from me. By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, the world, all of it, were little in comparison with her!” Then the Caliph turned to the Wazir Ja’afar and said to him, “Give Ishak fifty thousand dirhams and a robe of honour of the choicest apparel.” “Hearing and obeying,” replied Ja’afar and gifted him with that which the Caliph ordered him. As for Al-Rashid, he was private with Tohfah that night and found her a pure virgin and rejoiced in her; and she took high rank in his heart, so that he could not suffer her absence a single hour and committed to her the keys of the affairs of the realm, for that which he saw in her of good breeding and fine wit and leal will. He also gave her fifty slave-girls and two hundred thousand diners and a quantity of raiment and ornaments, gems and jewels worth the kingdom of Egypt; and of the excess of his love for her, he would not entrust her to any of the hand-maids or eunuchs; but, whenever he went out from her, he locked the door upon her and took the key with him, against he should return to her, forbidding the damsels to go in to her, of his fear lest they should slay her or poison her or practice on her with the knife; and in this way he abode awhile. One day, as she sang before the Commander of the Faithful, he was delighted with exceeding delight, so that he offered to kiss her hand;156 but she drew it away from him and smote upon her lute and broke it and wept. Al-Rashid wiped away her tears and said, “O desire of the heart, what is it maketh thee weep? May Allah not cause an eye of thine to shed tears!” Said she, “O my lord, what am I that thou shouldst kiss my hand? Wilt thou have Allah punish me for this and my term come to an end and my felicity pass away? For this is what none ever attained unto.” He rejoined, “Well said, O Tohfah. Know that thy rank in my esteem is high and for that which delighted me of what I saw in thee, I offered to do this, but I will not return unto the like thereof; so be of good cheer, with eyes cool and clear, for I have no desire to other than thyself and will not die but in the love of thee, and thou to me art queen this day, to the exclusion of al! humankind.” Therewith she fell to kissing his feet; and this her fashion pleased him, so that his love for her redoubled and he became unable to brook severance from her a single hour. Now Al-Rashid one day went forth to the chase and left Tohfah in her pavilion. As she sat perusing a book, with a candle-branch of gold before her, wherein was a perfumed candle, behold, a musk-apple fell down before her from the top of the saloon.157 So she looked up and beheld the Lady Zubaydah bint al-Kasim,158 who saluted her with a salam and acquainted her with herself, whereupon Tohfah sprang to her feet and said, “O my lady, were I not of the number of the new,159 I had daily sought thy service; so do not thou bereave me of those noble steps.”160 The Lady Zubaydah called down blessings upon her and replied, “I knew this of thee; and, by the life of the Commander of the Faithful, but that it is not of my wont to go forth of my place, I had come out to do my service to thee.” Then quoth she to her, “Know, O Tohfah, that the Commander of the Faithful hath deserted all his concubines and favourites on thine account, even myself hath he abandoned on this wise, and I am not content to be as one of the mistresses; yet hath he made me of them and forsaken me, and I have sought thee, so thou mayst beseech him to come to me, though it be but once a month, in order that I may not be the like of the hand-maids and concubines nor take rank with the slave-girls; and this is my need of thee.” Answered Tohfah, “Hearkening and obedience! By Allah, O my lady, I would that he might be with thee a whole month and with me but one night, so thy heart might be heartened, for that I am one of thy hand-maids and thou in every case art my lady.” The Princess Zubaydah thanked her for this and taking leave of her, returned to her palace. When the Caliph came back from the chase and course, he betook himself to Tohfah’s pavilion and bringing out the key, opened the lock and went in to her. She rose to receive him and kissed his hand, and he gathered her to his breast and seated her on his knee.161 Then food was brought to them and they ate and washed their hands; after which she took the lute and sang, till Al-Rashid was moved to sleep. When aware of this, she ceased singing and told him her adventure with the Lady Zubaydah, saying, “O Prince of True Believers, I would have thee favour me with a favour and hearten my heart and accept my intercession and reject not my supplication, but fare thee forthright to the Lady Zubaydah.” Now this talk befel after he had stripped himself naked and she also had doffed her dress; and he said, “Thou shouldst have named this ere we stripped ourselves naked, I and thou!” But she answered, say ing, “O Commander of the Faithful, I did this not except in accordance with the saying of the poet in these couplets,
“Of all intercessions can none succeed,
Save whatso Tohfah bint Marjan sue’d:
No intercessor who comes enveiled;162
She sues the best who sues mother-nude.”
When Al-Rashid heard this, her speech pleased him and he strained her to his bosom. Then he went forth from her and locked the door upon her, as before; whereupon she took the book and sat perusing it awhile. Presently, she set it aside and taking the lute, tightened its strings; and smote thereon, after a wondrous fashion, such as would have moved inanimate things to dance, and fell to singing marvellous melodies and chanting these couplets:—
“Cease for change to wail,
The world blames who rail
Bear patient its shafts
That for aye prevail.
How often a joy
Grief garbed thou shalt hail
How oft gladding bliss
Shall appear amid bale!”
Then she turned and saw within the chamber an old man, handsome in his hoariness and stately of semblance, who was dancing in goodly and winning wise, a dance whose like none might dance. So she sought refuge with Allah Almighty from Satan the Stoned and said, “I will not give over what I am about, for whatso the Lord willeth, He fulfilleth.” Accordingly, she went on singing till the Shaykh came up to her and kissed ground before her, saying, “Well done, O Highmost of the East and the West! May the world be not bereaved of thee! By Allah, indeed thou art perfect of manners and morals, O Tohfat al-Sudúr!163 Dost thou know me?” Cried she, “Nay, by Allah, but methinks thou art of the Jann.” Quoth he, “Thou sayst sooth; I am Abú al-Tawáif164 Iblis, and I come to thee every night, and with me thy sister Kamariyah, for that she loveth thee and sweareth not but by thy life; and her pastime is not pleasant to her, except she come to thee and see thee whilst thou seest her not. As for me, I approach thee upon an affair, whereby thou shalt gain and rise to high rank with the kings of the Jann and rule them, even as thou rulest mankind; and to that end I would have thee come with me and be present at the festival of my daughter’s wedding and the circumcision of my son;165 for that the Jann are agreed upon the manifestation of thy command. And she answered, “Bismillah; in the name of the Lord.”166 So she gave him the lute and he forewent her, till he came to the Chapel of Ease,167 and behold, therein was a door and a stairway. When Tohfah saw this, her reason fled; but Iblis cheered her with chat. Then he descended the steps and she followed him to the bottom of the stair, where she found a passage and they fared on therein, till they came to a horse standing, ready saddled and bridled and accoutred. Quoth Iblis, “Bismillah, O my lady Tohfah;” and he held the stirrup for her. So she mounted and the horse heaved like a wave under her and putting forth wings soared upwards with her, while the Shaykh flew by her side; whereat she was affrighted and clung to the pommel of the saddle;168 nor was it but an hour ere they came to a fair green meadow, fresh-flowered as if the soil thereof were a fine robe, purfled with all manner bright hues. Amiddlemost that mead was a palace towering high in air, with crenelles of red gold, set with pearls and gems, and a two-leaved door; and about the gateway were much people of the chiefs of the Jann, clad in costliest clothing. When they saw the Shaykh, they all cried out, saying, “The Lady Tohfah is come!” And as soon as she reached the palace-gate they pressed forward in a body, and dismounting her from the horse’s back, carried her into the palace and fell to kissing her hands. When she entered, she beheld a palace whereof seers ne’er saw the like; for therein were four halls, one facing other, and its walls were of gold and its ceilings of silver. It was high-builded of base, wide of space, and those who descried it would be posed to describe it. At the upper end of the hall stood a throne of red gold set with pearls and jewels, up to which led five steps of silver, and on its right and on its left were many chairs of gold and silver. Quoth Tohfah, “The Shaykh led me to the estrade and seated me on a chair of gold beside the throne, and over the dais was a curtain let down, gold and silver wrought and broidered with pearls and jewels.” And she was amazed at that which she beheld in that place and magnified her Lord (extolled and exalted be He!) and hallowed Him. Then the kings of the Jann came up to that throne and seated themselves thereon; and they were in the semblance of Adam’s sons, excepting two of them, who appeared in the form and aspect of the Jann, each with one eye slit endlong and jutting horns and projecting tusks.169 After this there came up a young lady, fair of favour and seemly of stature, the light of whose face outshone that of the waxen fiambeaux; and about her were other three women, than whom none fairer abode on face of earth. They saluted Tohfah with the salam and she rose to them and kissed ground before them whereupon they embraced her after returning her greeting170 and sat down on the chairs aforesaid. Now the four women who thus accosted Tohfah were the Princess Kamariyah, daughter of King Al-Shísbán, and her sisters; and Kamariyah loved Tohfah with exceeding love. So, when she came up to her, she fell to kissing and embracing her, and Shaykh Iblis cried, “Fair befal the accolade! Take me between you.” At this Tohfah laughed and Kamariyah said, “O my sister, I love thee, and doubtless hearts have their witnesses,171 for, since I saw thee, I have loved thee.” Replied Tohfah, By Allah, hearts have sea-like deeps, and thou, by Allah, art dear to me and I am thy hand-maid.” Kamariyah thanked her for this and kissing her once more said, “These be the wives of the kings of the Jann: greet them with the salam! This is Queen Jamrah,172 that is Queen Wakhímah and this other is Queen Sharárah, and they come not but for thee.” So Tohfah rose to her feet and bussed their hands, and the three queens kissed her and welcomed her and honoured her with the utmost honour. Then they brought trays and tables and amongst the rest a platter of red gold, inlaid with pearls and gems; its raised rims were of or and emerald, and thereon were graven173 these couplets:—
To bear provaunt assigned,
By hands noble designed,
For the gen’rous I’m made
Not for niggardly hind!
So eat safe all I hold
And praise God of mankind.
After reading the verses they ate and Tohfah looked at the two kings who had not changed shape and said to Kamariyah, “O my lady, what be this feral and that other like unto him? By Allah, mine eye may not suffer the sight of them.” Kamariyah laughed and answered, “O my sister, that is my sire Al-Shisban and the other is highs Maymun the Sworder; and of the arrogance of their souls and their insolence, they consented not to change their created shapes. Indeed, all whom thou seest here are nature-fashioned like them; but on thine account they have changed favour, for fear lest thou be disquieted and for the comforting of thy mind, so thou mightest become familiar with them and be at thine ease.” Quoth Tohfah, “O my lady, verily I cannot look at them. How frightful is this Maymun, with his monocular face! Mine eye cannot brook the sight of him, and indeed I am in affright of him.” Kamariyah laughed at her speech, and Tohfah continued, “By Allah, O my lady, I cannot fill my eye with the twain!”174 Then cried her father Al-Shisban to her, What be this laughing?” So she bespoke him in a tongue none understood but they two and acquainted him with that which Tohfah had said; whereat he laughed a prodigious loud laugh, as it were the roaring thunder. Presently they ate and the tables were removed and they washed their hands; after which Iblis the Accursed came up to Tohfah and said to her, “O my lady, thou gladdenest the place and enlightenest and embellishes” it with thy presence; but now fain would these kings hear somewhat of thy singing, for Night hath dispread her pinions for departure and there abideth of it but a little.” Quoth she, “Hearing and obeying.” So she took the lute and touching its strings with rare touch, played thereon after wondrous wise, so that it seemed to those who were present as if the palace surged like a wave with them for the music. Then she began singing and chanting these couplets,
“Folk of my faith and oath, Peace with you be!
Quoth ye not I shall meet you you meet me?
I’ll chide you softerwise than breeze o’ morn,
Sweeter than spring of coolest clarity.
I’ faith mine eyelids are with tears chafed sore:
My vitals plain to you some cure to see.
My friends! Our union to disunion changed
Was aye my fear for ’twas my certainty.
I’ll plain to Allah of all ills I bore;
For pine and yearning misery still I dree.”
The kings of the Jann were moved to delight by that sweet singing and seemly speech and thanked Tohfah therefore; and Queen Kamariyah rose to her and threw her arms round her neck and kissed her between the eyes, saying, “By Allah, ’tis good, O my sister and coolth of mine eyes and core of my heart!” Then said she, “I conjure thee by Allah, give us more of this lovely singing;’ and Tohfah answered with “To hear is to obey.” So she took the lute and playing thereon in a mode different from the former fashion, sang these couplets:—
“I, oft as ever grows the pine of me,
Console my soul with hope thy sight to see.
Haply shall Allah join our parted lives,
E’en as my fortunes far from thee cast He!
Then oh! who thrallest me by force of love —
Seized by fond affection’s mastery
All hardships easy wax when thou art nigh;
And all the far draws near when near thou be.
Ah! be the Ruthful light to lover fond,
Love-lore, frame wasted, ready Death to dree!
Were hope of seeing thee cut off, my loved;
After thine absence sleep mine eyes would flee!
I mourn no worldly joyance, my delight
Is but to sight thee while thou seest my sight.”
At this the accursed Iblis was hugely pleased and thrust his finger up his fundament,175 whilst Maymun danced and said, “O Tohfat al-Sudur, soften the sound;176 for, as pleasure entereth into my heart, it arresteth my breath and blood.” So she took the lute and altering the tune, played a third air; then she returned to the first and sang these couplets:—
“The waves of your177 love o’er my life have rolled;
I sink while I see you all aid withhold:
You have drowned my vitals in deeps of your love,
Nor can heart and sprite for your loss be consoled:
Deem not I forget my troth after you:
How forget what Allah decreed of old?178
Love clings to the lover who nights in grief,
And ‘plains of unrest and of woes ensouled.
The kings and all those who were present rejoiced in this with joy exceeding and the accursed Iblis came up to Tohfah and kissing her hand, said to her, “Verily there abideth but little of the night; so tarry with us till the morrow, when we will apply ourselves to the wedding179 and the circumcision.”180 Then all the Jann went away, whereupon Tohfah rose to her feet and Iblis said, “Go ye up with Tohfah to the garden for the rest of the night.” So Kamariyah took her and went with her into the garden, which contained all manner birds, nightingale and mocking-bird and ringdove and curlew181 and other than these of all the kinds. Therein were all manner of fruits: its channels182 were of gold and silver and the water thereof, as it broke forth of its conduits, was like the bellies of fleeing serpents, and indeed it was as it were the Garden of Eden.183 When Tohfah beheld this, she called to mind her lord and wept sore and said, “I beseech Allah the Most High to vouchsafe me speedy deliverance and return to my palace and to my high estate and queendom and glory, and reunion with my lord and master Al-Rashid.” Then she walked about that garden and saw in its midst a dome of white marble, raised on columns of black teak whereto hung curtains purfled with pearls and gems. Amiddlemost this pavilion was a founfain, inlaid with all kinds of jacinths, and thereon a golden statue of a man and beside it a little door. She opened the door and found herself in a long corridor: so she followed it and entered a Hammam-bath walled with all kinds of costly marbles and floored with a mosaic of pearls and jewels. Therein were four cisterns of alabaster, one facing other, and the ceiling of the bath was of glass coloured with all varieties of colours, such as confounded the understanding of those who have insight and amazed the wit of every wight. Tohfah entered the bath, after she had doffed her dress, and behold the Hammam basin was overlaid with gold set with pearls and red balasses and green emeralds and other jewels: so she extolled Allah Almighty and hallowed Him for the magnificence of that which she saw of the appointments of that bath. Then she made her Wuzu-ablution in that basin and pronouncing the Prohibition,184 prayed the dawn-prayer and what else had escaped her of orisons;185 after which she went out and walked in that garden among jessamine and lavender and roses and chamomile and gillyflowers and thyme and violets and basil royal, till she came to the door of the pavilion aforesaid. There she sat down, pondering that which would betide Al-Rashid after her, when he should come to her apartment and find her not; and she plunged into the sea of her solicitude, till slumber overtook her and soon she slept. Presently she felt a breath upon her face; whereupon she awoke and found Queen Kamariyah kissing her, and with her her three sisters, Queen Jamrah, Queen Wakhimah and Queen Sharárah. So she arose and kissed their hands and rejoiced in them with the utmost joy and they ceased not, she and they, to talk and converse, what while she related to them her history, from the time of her purchase by the Maghrabi to that of her coming to the quarters of the slave-dealer, where she besought Ishak al-Nadim to buy her,186 and how she won union with Al-Rashid, till the moment when Iblis came to her and brought her to them. They gave not over talking till the sun declined and yellowed and the hour of its setting drew near and the day departed, whereupon Tohfah was urgent in supplication187 to Allah Almighty, on the occasion of the sundown prayer, that he would reunite her with her lord Al-Rashid. After this, she abode with the four queens, till they arose and entered the palace, where she found the waxen tapers lit and ranged in candlesticks of gold and silver, and censing vessels of silver and gold filled with lign-aloes and ambergris, and there were the kings of the Jann sitting. So she saluted them with the salam, kissing the earth before them and doing them service; and they rejoiced in her and in her sight. Then she ascended the estrade and sat down upon her chair, whilst King Al-Shisban and King Al Muzfir188 and Queen Lúlúah and other kings of the Jann sat on chairs, and they brought choice tables, spread with all manner meats befitting royalties. They ate their fill; after which the tables were removed and they washed their hands and wiped them with napkins. Then they brought the wine-service and set on sasses and cups and flagons and beakers of gold and silver and bowls of crystal and gold, and they poured out the wines and they filled the flagons. Then Iblis took the bowl and signed to Tohfah to sing: and she said, “To hear is to obey!” So she hent the lute in hand and tuning it, sang these couplets,
“Drink wine, O ye lovers, I rede you alway,
And praise his worth who loves night and day;
‘Mid the myrtle, narcissus and lavender,
And the scented herbs that bedeck the tray.”
So Iblis the Damned drank and said, “Brave, O desire of hearts! But thou owest me still another aria.” Then he filled the cup and signed to her to sing. Quoth she, “Hearkening and obedience, and chanted these couplets,
“Ye wot, I am whelmed in despair and despight,
Ye dight me blight that delights your sight:
Your wone is between my unrest and my eyes;
Nor tears to melt you, nor sighs have might.
How oft shall I sue you for justice, and you
With a pining death my dear love requite?
But your harshness is duty, your farness near;
Your hate is Union, your wrath is delight:
Take your fill of reproach as you will: you claim
All my heart, and I reck not of safety or blame.”
All present were delighted and the sitting-chamber was moved like a wave with mirth, and Iblis said, “Brave, O Tohfat al-Sudur!” Then they left not liquor-bibbing and rejoicing and making merry and tambourining and piping till the night waned and the dawn waxed near; and indeed exceeding delight entered into them. The most of them in mirth was the Shaykh Iblis, and for the stress of that which befel him of joyance, he doffed all that was on him of coloured clothes and cast them over Tohfah, and among the rest a robe broidered with jewels and jacinths, worth ten thousand diners. Then he kissed the earth and danced and he thrust his finger up his fundament and hending his beard in hand, said to her, “Sing about this beard and endeavour after mirth and pleasance, and no blame shall betide thee for this.” So she improvised and sang these couplets:—
“Barbe of the olden, the one eyed goat!
What words shall thy foulness o’ deed denote?
Be not of our praises so pompous-proud:
Thy worth for a dock-tail dog’s I wot.
By Allah, to-morrow shall see me drub
Thy nape with a cow-hide189 and dust thy coat!”
All those present laughed at her mockery of Iblis and wondered at the wittiness of her visnomy190 and her readiness in versifying, whilst the Shaykh himself rejoiced and said to her, “O Tohfat al-Sudur, verily, the night be gone; so arise and rest thyself ere the day; and to-orrow there shall be naught save weal.” Then all the kings of the Jinn departed, together with those who were present of guards; and Tohfah abode alone, pondering the case of Al-Rashid and bethinking her of how it went with him after her going, and of what had betided him for her loss, till the dawn lightened, when she arose and walked about the palace. Suddenly she saw a handsome door; so she opened it and found herself in a flower-garden finer than the first — ne’er saw eyes of seer a fairer than it. When she beheld this garth, she was moved to delight and she called to mind her lord Al-Rashid and wept with sore weeping and cried, “I crave of the bounty of Allah Almighty that my return to him and to my palace and to my home may be nearhand!” Then she walked about the parterres till she came to a pavilion, high builded of base and wide of space, never espied mortal nor heard of a grander than it. So she entered and found herself in a long corridor, which led to a Hammam goodlier than that aforetime described, and its cisterns were full of rose water mingled with musk. Quoth Tohfah, “Extolled be Allah! Indeed, this191 is none other than a mighty great king.” Then she pulled off her clothes and washed her body and made her Ghusl ablution of the whole person192 and prayed that which was due from her of prayer from the evening of the previous day.193 When the sun rose upon the gate of the garden and she saw the wonders thereof, with that which was therein of all manner blooms and streams, and heard the voices of its birds, she marvelled at what she beheld of the rareness of its ordinance and the beauty of its disposition and sat musing over the case of Al-Rashid and pondering what was come of him after her. Her tears coursed down her cheeks and the Zephyr blew on her; so she slept and knew no more till she suddenly felt a breath on her side-face, whereat she awoke in affright and found Queen Kamariyah kissing her, and she was accompanied by her sisters, who said, “Rise, for the sun hath set.” So Tohfah arose and making the Wuzu-ablution, prayed her due of prayers194 and accompanied the four queens to the palace, where she saw the wax candles lighted and the kings sitting. She saluted them with the salam and seated herself upon her couch; and behold, King Al-Shisban had shifted his semblance, for all the pride of his soul. Then came up Iblis (whom Allah damn!) and Tohfah rose to him and kissed his hands. He also kissed her hand and blessed her and asked, “How deemest thou? Is not this place pleasant, for all its desertedness and desolation?” Answered she, “None may be desolate in this place;” and he cried, “Know that this is a site whose soil no mortal dare tread;” but she rejoined, “I have dared and trodden it, and this is one of thy many favours.” Then they brought tables and dishes and viands and fruits and sweetmeats and other matters, whose description passeth powers of mortal man, and they ate their sufficiency; after which the tables were removed and the dessert-trays and platters set on, and they ranged the bottles and flagons and vessels and phials, together with all manner fruits and sweet-scented flowers. The first to raise the bowl was Iblis the Accursed, who said, “O Tohfat al-Sudur, sing over my cup.” So she took the lute and touching it, carolled these couplets,
“Wake ye, Ho sleepers all! and take your joy
Of Time, and boons he deigned to bestow;
Then hail the Wine-bride, drain the wine-ptisane
Which, poured from flagon, flows with flaming glow:
O Cup-boy, serve the wine, bring round the red195
Whose draught gives all we hope for here below:
What’s worldly pleasure save my lady’s face,
Draughts of pure wine and song of musico?”
So Iblis drained his bowl and, when he had made an end of his draught, waved his hand to Tohfah; then, throwing off that which was upon him of clothes, delivered them to her. The suit would have brought ten thousand diners and with it was a tray full of jewels worth a mint of money. Presently he filled again and gave the cup to his son Al-Shisban, who took it from his hand and kissing it, stood up and sat down again. Now there was before him a tray of roses; so he said to her, “O Tohfah, sing thou somewhat upon these roses.” She replied, “Hearkening and obedience,” and chanted these two couplets,
¨It proves my price o’ er all the flowers that I
Seek you each year, yet stay but little stound:
And high my vaunt I’m dyed by my lord
Whom Allah made the best e’er trod on ground.196”
So Al-Shisban drank off the cup in his turn and said, “Brave, O desire of hearts!” and he bestowed on her that was upon him, to wit, a dress of cloth-of-pearl, fringed with great unions and rubies and purfled with precious gems, and a tray wherein were fifty thousand diners. Then Maymun the Sworder took the cup and began gazing intently upon Tohfah. Now there was in his hand a pomegranate-flower and he said to her, “Sing thou somewhat, O queen of mankind and Jinn kind upon this pomegranate-flower; for indeed thou hast dominion over all hearts.” Quoth she, “To hear is to obey;” and she improvised and sang these couplets,
“Breathes sweet the zephyr on fair partPrre;
Robing lute in the flamings that fell from air:
And moaned from the boughs with its cooing rhyme
Voice of ring-doves plaining their love and care:
The branch dresses in suit of fine sendal green
And in wine-hues borrowed from bloom Gulnare.”197
Maymun the Sworder drained his bowl and said to her, “Brave, O perfection of qualities!” Then he signed to her and was absent awhile, after which he returned and with him a tray of jewels worth an hundred thousand ducats, which he gave to Tohfah. Thereupon Kamariyah arose and bade her slave-girl open the closet behind the Songstress, wherein she laid all that wealth; and committed the key to her, saying, “Whatso of riches cometh to thee, lay thou in this closet that is by thy side, and after the festivities, it shall be borne to thy palace on the heads of the Jinn.” Tohfah kissed her hand and another king, by name Munír,198 took the bowl and filling it, said to her, “O ferry Fair, sing to me over my bowl somewhat upon-the jasmine.” She replied with, “Hearkening and obedience,” and improvised these couplets,
“’Twere as though the Jasmine (when self she enrobes
On her boughs) cloth display to my wondering eyne;
In sky of green beryl, which Beauty enclothes,
Star-groups like studs of the silvern mine.”
Munir drank off his cup and ordered her eight hundred thousand diners, whereat Kamariyah rejoiced and rising to her feet, kissed Tohfah on her face and said to her, “Be the world never bereaved of thee, O thou who lordest it over the hearts of Jinn-kind and mankind!” Then she returned to her place and the Shaykh Iblis arose and danced, till all present were confounded; after which the Songstress said, “Verily, thou embellishes” my festivities, O thou who commandest men and Jinn and rejoices” their hearts with thy loveliness and the beauty199 of thy faithfulness to thy lord. All that thy hands possess shall be borne to thee in thy palace and placed at thy service; but now the dawn is nearhand; so do thou rise and rest thee according to thy custom.” Tohfah turned and found with her none of the Jinn; so she laid her head on the floor and slept till she had gotten her repose; after which she arose and betaking herself to the lakelet, made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed. Then she sat beside the water awhile and meditated the matter of her lord Al-Rashid and that which had betided him after her loss and wept with sore weeping. Presently, she heard a blowing behind her;200 so she turned and behold, a Head without a body and with eyes slit endlong: it was of the bigness of an elephant’s skull and bigger and ha] a mouth as it were an oven and projecting canines as they were grapnels, and hair which trailed upon the ground. So Tohfah cried, “I take refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned!” and recited the Two Preventives;201 what while the Head drew near her and said, “Peace be with thee, O Princess of Jinn and men and union-pearl of her age and her time! Allah continue thee on life, for all the lapsing of the days, and reunite thee with thy lord the Imam!”202 She replied, “And upon thee be Peace; O thou whose like I have not seen among the Jann!” Quoth the Head, “We are a folk who may not change their favours and we are highs Ghuls: mortals summon us to their presence, but we cannot present ourselves before them without leave. As for me, I have gotten leave of the Shaykh Abu al-Tawaif to appear before thee and I desire of thy favour that thou sing me a song, so I may go to thy palace and question its Haunters203 concerning the plight of thy lord after thee and return to thee; and know, O Tohfat al-Sudur, that between thee and thy lord be a distance of fifty years’ journey for the bonâ fide traveller.” She rejoined, “Indeed, thou grieves” me anent him between whom and me is fifty years’ journey;” but the Head204 cried to her, “Be of good cheer and of eyes cool and clear, for the sovrans of the Jann will restore thee to him in less than the twinkling of an eye.” Quoth she, “I will sing thee an hundred songs, so thou wilt bring me news of my lord and that which betided him after me.” And quoth the Head, “Do thou favour me and sing me a song, so I may go to thy lord and fetch thee tidings of him, for that I desire, before I go, to hear thy voice, so haply my thirst205 may be quenched.” So she took the lute and tuning it, sang these couplets:—
“They have marched, yet no empty stead left they:
They are gone, nor heart grieves me that fled be they:
My heart forebode the bereaval of friends;
Allah ne’er bereave steads wherefrom sped be they!
Though they hid the stations where led were they,
I’ll follow till stars fall in disarray!
Ye slumber, but wake shall ne’er fly these lids;
’Tis I bear what ye never bore — well-away!
It had irked them not to farewell who fares
With the parting-fires that my heart waylay.
My friends,206 your meeting to me is much
But more is the parting befel us tway:
You’re my heart’s delight, or you present be
Or absent, with you is my soul for aye!”
Thereupon the Head wept exceeding sore and cried, “O my lady, indeed thou hast solaced my heart, and I have naught but my life; so take it.” She replied, “Nay, an I but knew that thou wouldst bring me news of my lord Al-Rashid, ’twere fainer to me than the reign of the world;” and the Head answered her, “It shall be done as thou desirest.” Then it disappeared and returning to her at the last of the night, said, “O my lady, know that I have been to thy palace and have questioned one of its Haunters of the case of the Commander of the Faithful and that which befel him after thee; and he said, ‘When the Prince of True Believers came to Tohfah’s apartment and found her not and saw no sign of her, he buffeted his face and head and rent his raiment.’ Now there was in thy chamber the Castrato, the chief of thy household, and the Caliph cried out at him, saying, ‘Bring me Ja’afar the Barmaki and his father and brother at this very moment!’ The Eunuch went out, bewildered in his wit for fear of the King, and when he stood in the presence of Ja’afar, he said to him, ‘Come to the Commander of the Faithful, thou and thy father and thy brother.’ So they arose in haste and betaking themselves to the presence, said, ‘O Prince of True Believers what may be the matter?’ Quoth he, ‘There is a matter which passeth description. Know that I locked the door and taking the key with me, betook myself to my uncle’s daughter, with whom I lay the night; but, when I arose in the morning and came and opened the door, I found no sign of Tohfah.’ Quoth Ja’afar, ‘O Commander of the Faithful have patience, for that the damsel hath been snatched away, and needs must she return, seeing that she took the lute with her, and ’tis her own lute. The Jinns have assuredly carried her off, and we trust in Allah Almighty that she will return.’ Cried the Caliph, ‘This207 is a thing which may nowise be!’ And he abode in her apartment, nor eating nor drinking, while the Barmecides besought him to fare forth to the folk; and he weepeth and tarrieth on such fashion till she shall return. This, then, is that which hath betided him after thee.” When Tohfah heard his words, they were grievous to her and she wept with sore weeping; whereupon quoth the Head to her, “The relief of Allah the Most High is nearhand; but now let me hear somewhat of thy speech.” So she took the lute and sang three songs, weeping the while. The Head exclaimed, “By Allah, thou hast been bountiful to me, the Lord be with thee!” Then it disappeared and the season of sundown came: so she rose and betook herself to her place in the hall; whereupon behold, the candles sprang up from under the earth and kindled themselves. Then the kings of the Jann appeared and saluted her and kissed her hands and she greeted them with the salam. Presently appeared Kamariyah and her three sisters and saluted Tohfah and sat down; whereupon the tables were brought and they ate; and when the tables were removed there came the wine-tray and the drinking-service. So Tohfah took the lute and one of the three queens filled the cup and signed to the Songstress. Now she had in her hand a violet, so Tohfah improvised these couplets:—
“I’m clad in a leaf-cloak of green;
In an honour-robe ultramarine:
I’m a wee thing of loveliest mien
But all flowers as my vassals are seen:
An Rose title her ‘Morn-pride,’ I ween
Nor before me nor after she’s Queen.”
The queen drank off her cup and bestowed on Tohfah a dress of cloth-of-pearl, fringed with red rubies, worth twenty thousand ducats, and a tray whereon were ten thousand sequins. All this while Maymun’s eye was upon her and presently he said to her, “Harkye, Tohfah! Sing to me.” But Queen Zalzalah cried out at him, and said “Desist,208 O Maymun. Thou sufferest not Tohfah to pay heed to us.” Quoth he, “I will have her sing to me:” and many words passed between them and Queen Zalzalah cried aloud at him. Then she shook and became like unto the Jinns and taking in her hand a mace of stone, said to him, “Fie upon thee! What art thou that thou shouldst bespeak us thus? By Allah, but for the respect due to kings and my fear of troubling the session and the festival and the mind of the Shaykh Iblis, I would assuredly beat the folly out of thy head!” When Maymun heard these her words, he rose, with the fire shooting from his eyes, and said, “O daughter of Imlák, what art thou that thou shouldst outrage me with the like of this talk?” Replied she, “Woe to thee, O dog of the Jinn, knowest thou not thy place?” So saying, she ran at him, and offered to strike him with the mace, but the Shaykh Iblis arose and casting his turband on the ground cried, “Out on thee, O Maymun! Thou dost always with us on this wise. Wheresoever thou art present, thou troublest our pleasure! Canst thou not hold thy peace until thou go forth of the festival and this bride-feast be accomplished? When the circumcision is at an end and ye all return to your dwellings, then do as thou willest. Fie upon thee, O Maymun! Wottest thou not that Imlak is of the chiefs of the Jinn? But for my goodname, thou shouldst have seen what would have betided thee of humiliation and chastisement; yet on account of the festival none may speak. Indeed thou exceedest; dost thou not ken that her sister Wakhimah is doughtier209 than any of the Jann? Learn to know thyself: hast thou no regard for thy life?” So Maymun was silent and Iblis turned to Tohfah and said to her, “Sing to the kings of the Jinns this day and to-night until the morrow, when the boy will be circumcised and each shall return to his own place.” Accordingly she took the lute and Kamariyah said to her (now she had a citron in hand), “O my sister, sing to me somewhat on this citron.” Tohfah replied, “To hear is to obey,” and improvising, sang these couplets,
“I’m a dome of fine gold and right cunningly dight;
And my sweetness of youth gladdeth every sight:
My wine is ever the drink of kings
And I’m fittest gift to the friendliest sprite.
At this Queen Kamariyah rejoiced with joy exceeding and drained her cup, crying, “Brava! O thou choice Gift of hearts!” Furthermore, she took off a sleeved robe of blue brocade, fringed with red rubies, and a necklace of white jewels worth an hundred thousand ducats, and gave them to Tohfah. Then she passed the cup to her sister Zalzalah, who hent in her hand herb basil, and she said to Tohfah, “Sing to me somewhat on this basil.” She replied, “Hearing and obeying,” and improvised and sang these couplets,
“I’m the Queen of herbs in the séance of wine
And in Heaven Na’ím are my name and sign:
And the best are promised, in garth of Khuld,
Repose, sweet scents and the peace divine:210
What prizes then with my price shall vie?
What rank even mine, in all mortals’ eyne?”
Thereat Queen Zalzalah rejoiced with joy exceeding and bidding her treasuress bring a basket, wherein were fifty pairs of bracelets and the same number of earrings, all of gold, crusted with jewels of price, whose like nor mankind nor Jinn-kind possessed, and an hundred robes of vari-coloured brocades and an hundred thousand ducats, gave the whole to Tohfah. Then she passed the cup to her sister Shararah, who had in her hand a stalk of narcissus; so she took it from her and turning to the Songstress, said to her, “O Tohfah, sing to me somewhat on this.” She replied, “Hearkening and obedience,” and improvised these couplets,
“With the smaragd wand doth my form compare;
‘Mid the finest flowers my worth’s rarest rare:
My eyes are likened to Beauty’s eyne,
And my gaze is still on the bright partPrre.”
When she had made an end of her song, Shararah was moved to delight exceeding, and drinking off her cup, said to her, “Brava, O thou choice Gift of hearts!” Then she ordered her an hundred dresses of brocade and an hundred thousand ducats and passed the cup to Queen Wakhimah. Now she had in her hand somewhat of Nu’uman’s bloom, the anemone; so she took the cup from her sister and turning to the Songstress, said to her, “O Tohfah, sing to me on this.” Quoth she, “I hear and I obey,” and improvised these couplets,
“I’m a dye was dyed by the Ruthful’s might;
And all confess me the goodliest sight:
I began in the dust and the clay, but now
On the cheeks of fair women I rank by right.”
Therewith Wakhimah rejoiced with joy exceeding and drinking off the cup, ordered her twenty dresses of Roumí brocade and a tray, wherein were thirty thousand ducats. Then she gave the cup to Queen Shu’á‘ah,211 Regent of the Fourth Sea, who took it and said, “O my lady Tohfah, sing to me on the gillyflower.” She replied, “Hearing and obeying,” and improvised these couplets,
“The time of my presence ne’er draws to a close,
Amid all whose joyance with mirth o’erflows;
When topers gather to sit at wine
Or in nightly shade or when morning shows,
I filch from the flagon to fill the bowls
And the crystal cup where the wine-beam glows.”
Queen Shu’a’ah rejoiced with joy exceeding and emptying her cup, gave Tohfah an hundred thousand ducats. Then up sprang Iblis (whom Allah curse!) and cried, “Verily, the dawn lighteneth;” whereupon the folk arose and disappeared, all of them, and there abode not one of them save the Songstress, who went forth to the garden and entering the Hamman made her Wuzu-ablutions and prayed whatso lacked her of prayers. Then she sat down and when the sun rose, behold, there came up to her near an hundred thousand green birds, which filled the branches of the trees with their multitudes and they warbled in various voices, whilst Tohfah marvelled at their fashion. Suddenly, appeared eunuchs, bearing a throne of gold, studded with pearls and gems and jacinths, both white and red, and having four steps of gold, together with many carpets of sendal and brocade and Coptic cloth of silk sprigged with gold; and all these they spread in the centre of the garden and setting up the throne thereon, perfumed the place with virgin musk, Nadd212 and ambergris. After that, there came a queen; never saw eyes a fairer than she nor than her qualities; she was robed in rich raiment, broidered with pearls and gems, and on her head was a crown set with various kinds of unions and jewels. About her were five hundred slave-girls high-bosomed maids, as they were moons, screening her, right and left, and she among them like the moon on the night of its full, for that she was the most worthy of them in majesty and dignity. She ceased not walking till she came to Tohfah, whom she found gazing on her in amazement; and when the Songstress saw her turn to her, she rose to her, standing on her feet, and saluted her and kissed ground between her hands. The queen rejoiced in her and putting out her hand to her, drew her to herself and seated her by her side on the couch; whereupon the Songstress kissed her hands and the queen said to her, “Know, O Tohfah, that all which thou treadest of these carpets belongeth not to any of the Jinn, who may never tread them without thy leave,213 for that I am the queen of them all and the Shaykh Abu al-Tawaif Iblis sought my permission to hold festival214 and prayed me urgently to be present at the circumcision of his son. So I despatched to him, in my stead, a slave-girl of my slave-girls, namely, Shu’á‘ah Queen of the Fourth Sea, who is vice-reine of my reign. When she was present at the wedding and saw thee and heard thy singing, she sent to me, informing me of thee and setting forth to me thy grace and amiability and the beauty of thy breeding and thy courtesy.215 So I am come to thee, for that which I have heard of thy charms, and hereby I do thee a mighty great favour in the eyes of all the Jann.”216 Thereupon Tohfah arose and kissed the earth and the queen thanked her for this and bade her sit. So she sat down and the queen called for foods when they brought a table of gold, inlaid with pearls and jacinth; and jewels and bearing kinds manifold of birds and viands of various hues, and the queen said, “O Tohfah, in the name of Allah! Let us eat bread and salt together, I and thou.” Accordingly the Songstress came forward and ate of those meats and found therein somewhat the like whereof she had never eaten; no, nor aught more delicious than it, while the slave-girls stood around the table, as the white compasseth the black of the eye, and she sat conversing and laughing with the queen. Then said the lady, “O my sister, a slave-girl told me of thee that thou saidst, ‘How loathly is what yonder Jinni Maymun eateth!”217 Tohfah replied, “By Allah, O my lady, I have not any eye that can look at him,218 and indeed I am fearful of him.” When the queen heard this, she laughed till she fell backwards and said “O my sister, by the might of the graving upon the seal-ring of Solomon, prophet of Allah, I am queen over all the Jann, and none dare so much as cast on thee a glance of the eye;” whereat Tohfah kissed her hand. Then the tables were removed and the twain sat talking. Presently up came the kings of the Jinn from every side and kissed ground before the queen and stood in her service; and she thanked them for this, but moved not for one of them.219 Then appeared the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif Iblis (Allah curse him!) and kissed the earth before her, saying, “O my lady, may I not be bereft of these steps!”220 She replied, “O Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif, it behoveth thee to thank the bounty of the Lady Tohfah, who was the cause of my coming.” Rejoined he, “Thou sayest sooth,” and kissed ground. Then the queen fared on towards the palace and there arose and alighted upon the trees an hundred thousand birds of manifold hues. The Songstress asked, “How many are these birds?” and Queen Wakhimah answered her, “Know, O my sister, that this queen is hight Queen al-Shahbá221 and that she is queen over all the Jann from East to West. These birds thou seest are of her host, and unless they appeared in this shape, earth would not be wide enough for them. Indeed, they came forth with her and are present with her presence at this circumcision. She will give thee after the measure of that which hath been given to thee from the first of the festival to the last thereof;222 and indeed she honoureth us all with her presence.” Then the queen entered the palace and sat down on the couch of the circumcision223 at the upper end of the hall, where-upon Tohfah took the lute and pressing it to her breast, touched its strings suchwise that the wits of all present were bewildered and Shaykh Iblis cried to her, “O my lady Tohfah, I conjure thee, by the life of this noble queen, sing for me and praise thyself, and cross me not.” Quoth she, “To hear is to obey; still, but for thine adjuration, I had not done this. Say me, doth any praise himself? What manner thing is this?” Then she improvised these couplets:
“In all fLtes I’m Choice Gift224 to the minstrel-race;
Folk attest my worth, rank and my pride of place,
While Fame, merit and praises with honour engrace.”
Her verses pleased the kings of the Jann and they cried, “By Allah, thou sayst sooth!” Then she rose to her feet, hending lute in hand, and played and sang, whilst the Jinns and the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif danced. Presently the Father of the Tribes came up to her bussing her bosom, and gave her a Bráhmani225 carbuncle he had taken from the hidden hoard of Yáfis bin Núh226 (on whom be the Peace), and which was worth the reign of the world; its light was as the sheen of the sun and he said to her, “Take this and be equitable therewith to the people of the world.” 227 She kissed his hand and rejoiced in the jewel and said, “By Allah, this befitteth none save the Commander of the Faithful.” Now Queen Al-Shahba laughed with delight at the dancing of Iblís and she said to him, “By Allah, this is a goodly pavane!” He thanked her for this and said to the Songstress, “O Tohfah, there is not on earth’s face a skilfuller than Ishak al-Nadim;228 but thou art more skilful than he. Indeed, I have been present with him many a time and have shown him positions229 on the lute, and there has betided me with him that which betided. Indeed, the story of my dealings with him is a long one but this is no time to repeat it; for now I would show thee a shift on the lute, whereby thou shalt be exalted over all folk.” Quoth she, “Do what seemeth good to thee.” So he took the lute and played thereon a wondrous playing, with rare divisions and marvellous modulations, and showed her a passage she knew not; and this was goodlier to her than all that she had gotten. Then she took the lute from him and playing thereon, sang and presently returned to the passage which he had shown her; and he said, “By Allah, thou singest better than I!” As for Tohfah, it became manifest to her that her former practice was all of it wrong and that what she had learnt from the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif Iblis was the root and foundation of all perfection in the art and its modes. So she rejoiced in that which she had won of skill in touching the lute far more than in all that had fallen to her lot of wealth and honour-robes and kissed the Master’s hand. Then said Queen Al-Shahba, “By Allah, O Shaykh, my sister Tohfah is indeed singular among the folk of her time, and I hear that she singeth upon all sweetsmelling blooms.” Iblis replied, “Yes, O my lady, and I am in extremest wonderment thereat. But there remaineth somewhat of sweet-scented flowers, which she hath not besung, such as myrtle and tuberose and jessamine and the moss-rose and the like.” Then the Shaykh signed to her to sing somewhat upon the rest of the flowers, that Queen Al-Shahba might hear, and she said, “Hearing and obeying.” So she took the lute and played thereon in many modes, then returned to the first and sang these couplets,
“I’m one of the lover-retinue
Whom long pine and patience have doomPd rue:
And sufferance of parting from kin and friends
Hath clothed me, O folk, in this yellow hue:
Then, after the joyance had passed away,
Heart-break, abasement and cark I knew,
Through the long, long day when the lift is light,
Nor, when night is murk, my pangs cease pursue:
So, ’twixt fairest hope and unfailing fear,
My bitter tears ever flow anew.”
Thereat Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced with joy exceeding and cried, “Brava, O queen of delight! No one is able to describe thee. Sing to us on the Apple.” Quoth Tohfah, “Hearkening and obedience.” Then she recited these couplets,
“I surpass all forms in my coquetry
For mine inner worth and mine outer blee;
Tend me noble hands in the sight of all
And slake with pure waters the thirst of me;
My robe is of sendal, and eke my veil
Is of sunlight the Ruthful hath bidden be:
When my fair companions are marched afar,
In sorrow fro’ home they are forced to flee:
But noble hands deign hearten my heart
With beds where I sit in my high degree; 230
And where, like full moon at its rise, my light
‘mid the garden-fruits thou shalt ever see.”
Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced in this with exceeding joy and cried “Brava! By Allah, there is none excelleth thee.” Tohfah kissed the ground, then returned to her place and versified on the Tuberose, saying,
“I’m a marvel-bloom to be worn on head!
Though a stranger among you fro’ home I fled:
Make use of wine in my company
And flout at Time who in languish sped.
E’en so cloth camphor my hue attest,
O my lords, as I stand in my present stead.
So gar me your gladness when dawneth day,
And to highmost seat in your homes be I led:
And quaff your cups in all jollity,
And cheer and ease shall ne’er cease to be.”
At this Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced with exceeding joy and cried, “Brava, O queen of delight! By Allah, I know not how I shall do to give thee thy due! May the Most High grant us the grace of thy long continuance!” Then she strained her to her breast and bussed her on the cheek; whereupon quoth Iblis (on whom be a curse!), “This is a mighty great honour!” Quoth the queen, “Know that this lady Tohfah is my sister and that her biddance is my biddance and her forbiddance my forbiddance. So all of you hearken to her word and render her worshipful obedience.” Therewith the kings rose in a body and kissed ground before Tohfah, who rejoiced in this. Moreover, Queen Al-Shahba doffed dress and habited her in a suit adorned with pearls, jewels and jacinths, worth an hundred thousand ducats, and wrote for her on a slip of paper231 a patent appointing her to be her deputy. So the Songstress rose and kissed ground before the Queen, who said to her, “Of thy favour, sing to us somewhat concerning the rest of the sweet-scented flowers and herbs, so I may hear thy chant and solace myself with witnessing thy skill.” She replied, “To hear is to obey, O lady mine,” and, taking the lute, improvised these couplets,
“My hue excelleth all hues in light,
And I would all eyes should enjoy my sight:
My site is the site of fillets and pearls
Where the fairest brows are with jasmine dight:
My light’s uprist (and what light it shows!)
Is a silvern zone on the waist of Night.”
Then she changed the measure and improvised these couplets,
“I’m the gem of herbs, and in seasons twain
My tryst I keep with my lovers-train:
I stint not union for length of time
Nor visits, though some be of severance fain;
The true one am I and my troth I keep,
And, easy of plucking, no hand disdain.”
Then, changing measure and the mode, she played so that she bewildered the wits of those who were present, and Queen Al-Shahba, moved to mirth and merriment, cried, “Brava, O queen of delight!” Presently she returned to the first mode and improved these couplets on Nenuphar,
“I fear me lest freke espy me,
In air when I fain deny me;
So I root me beneath the wave,
And my stalks to bow down apply me.”
Hereat Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced with exceeding joy, and cried, “Brava, O Tohfah! Let me hear more of thy chant.” Accordingly, she smote the lute and changing the mode, recited on the Moss-rose these couplets,
“Look on Nasrín232 those branchy shoots surround;
With greenest leafery ’tis deckt and crowned:
Its graceful bending stem draws every gaze
While beauteous bearing makes their love abound.”
Then she changed measure and mode and sang these couplets on the Water-lily,
“O thou who askest Súsan233 of her scent,
Hear thou my words and beauty of my lay.
‘Emir am I whom all mankind desire’
(Quoth she) ‘or present or whenta’en away.’”
When Tohfah had made an end of her song, Queen Al-Shahba rose and said, “I never heard from any the like of this;” and she drew the Songstress to her and fell to kissing her. Then she took leave of her and flew away; and on like wise all the birds took flight with her, so that they walled the horizon; whilst the rest of the kings tarried behind. Now as soon as it was the fourth night, there came the boy who was to be circumcised, adorned with jewels such as never saw eye nor heard ear of, and amongst the rest a crown of gold crusted with pearls and gems, the worth whereof was an hundred thousand sequins. He sat down upon the couch and Tohfah sang to him, till the chirurgeon234 came and they snipped his foreskin in the presence of all the kings, who showered on him a mighty great store of jewels and jacinths and gold. Queen Kamariyah bade her Eunuchs gather up all this and lay it in Tohfah’s closet and it was as much in value as all that had fallen to her, from the first of the festivities to the last thereof. Moreover, the Shaykh Iblis (whom Allah curse!) bestowed upon the Songstress the crown worn by the boy and gave the circumcisee another, whereat Tohfah’s reason took flight. Then the Jinn departed, in order of rank, whilst Iblis farewelled them, band after band. Seeing the Shaykh thus occupied with taking leave of the kings, Maymun seized his opportunity, the place being empty, and taking up Tohfah on his shoulders, soared aloft with her to the confines of the lift, and flew away with her. Presently, Iblis came to look for the Songstress and see what she purposed, but found her not and sighted the slave-girls slapping their faces: so he said to them, “Fie on you! What may be the matter?” They replied, “O our lord, Maymun hath snatched up Tohfah and flown away with her.” When Iblis heard this, he gave a cry whereto earth trembled and said, “What is to be done?” Then he buffetted his face and head, exclaiming, “Woe to you! This be none other than exceeding insolence. Shall he carry off Tohfah from my very palace and attaint mine honour? Doubtless, this Maymun hath lost his wits.” Then he cried out a second time, so that the earth quaked, and rose on his wings high in air. The news came to the rest of the kings; so they flew after him and overtaking him, found him full of anxiety and affright, with fire issuing from his nostrils, and said to him, “O Shaykh al-Tawaif,235 what is to do?” He replied, “Know ye that Maymun hath carried oh from my palace and attainted mine honour.” When they heard this, they cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great. By God he hath ventured upon a grave matter and verily he destroyeth self and folk!” Then Shaykh Iblis ceased not flying till he fell in with the tribes of the Jann, and they gathered together a world of people, none may tell the tale of them save the Lord of All-might. So they came to the Fortress of Copper and the Citadel of Lead,236 and the people of the sconces saw the tribes of the Jann issuing from every deep mountain-pass237 and said, “What be the news?” Then Iblis went in to King Al-Shisban and acquainted him with that which had befallen; whereupon quoth he, “Verily, Allah hath destroyed Maymun and his many! He pretendeth to possess Tohfah, and she is become queen of the Jann! But have patience till we devise that which befitteth in the matter of Tohfah.” Iblis asked, “And what befitteth it to do?” And Al-Shisban answered, “We will fall upon him and kill him and his host with cut of brand.” Then quoth Shaykh Iblis, “’Twere better to acquaint Queen Kamariyah and Queen Zal-zalah and Queen Shararah and Queen Wakhimah; and when they are assembled, Allah shall ordain whatso He deemeth good in the matter of her release.” Quoth Al-Shisban, “Right is thy rede” and thy despatched to Queen Kamariyah an Ifrit hight Salhab who came to her palace and found her sleeping, so he roused her and she said, “What is to do, O Salhab?” Cried he, “O my lady, come to the succour of thy sister the Songstress, for Maymun hath carried her off and attainted thine honour and that of Shaykh Iblis.” Quoth she, “What sayst thou?” and she sat up straight and cried out with a great cry. And indeed she feared for Tohfah and said, “By Allah, in very sooth she used to say that he gazed at her and prolonged the gaze; but ill is that whereto his soul hath prompted him.” Then she rose in haste and mounting a Sataness of her Satans, said to her, “Fly.” So she flew off with her and alighted in the palace of her sister Shararah, whereupon she sent for her sisters Zalzalah and Wakhimah and acquainted them with the tidings, saying, “Know that Maymun hath snatched up Tohfah and flown off with her swiftlier than the blinding leven.” Then they all flew off in haste and lighting down in the place where were their father Al-Shisban and their grandfather the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif, found the folk on the sorriest of situations. When their grandfather Iblis saw them, he rose to them and wept, and they all wept for the Songstress. Then said Iblis to them, “Yonder hound hath attainted mine honour and taken Tohfah, and I think not other wise238 but that she is like to die of distress for herself and her lord Al-Rashid and saying, ‘The whole that they said and did was false.’”239 Quoth Kamariyah, “O grandfather mine, nothing is left for it but stratagem and device for her deliverance, for that she is dearer to me than everything; and know that yonder accursed when he waxeth ware of your coming upon him, will ken that he hath no power to cope with you, he who is the least and meanest of the Jann; but we dread that he, when assured of defeat, will slay Tohfah; wherefore nothing will serve but that we contrive a sleight for saving her; else will she perish.” He asked, “And what hast thou in mind of device?” and she answered, “Let us take him with fair means, and if he obey, all will be well;240 else will we practice stratagem against him; and expect not her deliverance from other than myself.” Quoth Iblis, “The affair is thine; contrive what thou wilt, for that Tohfah is thy sister and thy solicitude for her is more effectual than that of any other.” So Kamariyah cried out to an Ifrit of the Ifrits and a calamity of the calamities,241 by name Al-Asad al-Tayyár, the Flying Lion and said to him, “Hie with my message to the Crescent Mountain,242 the wone of Maymun the Sworder, and enter and say to him, My lady saluteth thee with the salam and asketh thee, ‘How canst thou be assured for thyself of safety, after what thou hast done, O Maymun? Couldst thou find none to maltreat in thy drunken humour save Tohfah, she too being a queen? But thou art excused, because thou didst not this deed, but ’twas thy drink, and the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif pardoneth thee, because thou wast drunken. Indeed, thou hast attainted his honour; but now restore her to her palace, for that she hath done well and favoured us and rendered us service, and thou wottest that she is this day our queen. Belike she may bespeak Queen Al-Shahba, whereupon the matter will become grievous and that wherein there is no good shall betide thee; and thou wilt get no title of gain. Verily, I give thee good counsel, and so the Peace!’” Al-Asad answered “Hearing and obeying,” and flew till he came to the Crescent Mountain, when he sought audience of Maymun, who bade admit him. So he entered and kissing ground before him, gave him Queen Kamariyah’s message, which when he heard, he cried to the Ifrit, “Return whence thou comest and say to thy mistress, ‘Be silent and thou wilt show thy good sense.’ Else will I come and seize upon her and make her serve Tohfah; and if the kings of the Jinn assemble together against me and I be overcome by them, I will not leave her to scent the wind of this world and she shall be neither mine nor theirs, for that she is presently my sprite 243 from between my ribs; and how shall any part with his sprite?” When the Ifrit heard Maymun’s words, he said to him, “By Allah, O Maymun, art thou a changeling in thy wits, that thou speakest these words of my lady, and thou one of her page-boys?” Whereupon Maymun cried out and said to him, “Woe to thee, O dog of the Jinns! Wilt thou bespeak the like of me with these words?” Then he bade those who were about him bastinado Al-Asad, but he took flight and soaring high in air, betook himself to his mistress and told her the tidings: when she said, “Thou hast done well, O good knight!” Then she turned to her sire and said to him, “Hear that which I shall say to thee.” Quoth he, “Say on;” and quoth she, “I rede thee take thy troops and go to him, for when he heareth this, he will in turn levy his many and come forth to thee; whereupon do thou offer him battle and prolong the fight with him and make a show to him of weakness and giving way. Meantime, I will devise me a device for getting at Tohfah and delivering her, what while he is busied with you in battle; and when my messenger cometh to thee and informeth thee that I have gotten possession of Tohfah and that she is with me, return thou upon Maymun forthwith and overthrow him and his hosts, and take him prisoner. But, an my device succeed not with him and we fail to deliver Tohfah, he will assuredly practice to slay her, without recourse, and regret for her will remain in our hearts.” Quoth Iblis, “This is the right rede” and bade call a march among the troops, whereupon an hundred thousand knights, doughty wights of war, joined themselves to him and set out for the country of Maymun. As for Queen Kamariyah, she flew off to the palace of her sister Wakhimah, and told her what deed Maymun had done and how he declared that, whenas he saw defeat nearhand, he would slay Tohfah; adding, “And indeed, he is resolved upon this; otherwise had he not dared to work such sleight. So do thou contrive the affair as thou see fit, for in rede thou hast no superior.” Then they sent for Queen Zalzalah and Queen Shararah and sat down to take counsel, one with other, concerning what they had best do in the matter. Presently said Wakhimah, “ ’Twere advisable we fit out a ship in this our island home and embark therein, disguised as Adam’s sons, and fare on till we come to anchor under a little island that lieth over against Maymun’s palace. There will we sit drinking and smiting the lute and singing; for Tohfah will assuredly be seated there overlooking the sea, and needs must she see us and come down to us, whereupon we will take her by force and she will be under our hands, so that none shall be able to molest her any more. Or, an Maymun be gone forth to do battle with the Jinns, we will storm his stronghold and take Tohfah and raze his palace and slay all therein. When he hears of this, his heart will be broken and we will send to let our father know, whereat he will return upon him with his troops and he will be destroyed and we shall have rest of him.” They answered her, saying, “This is a good counsel.” Then they bade fit out a ship from behind the mountain,244 and it was fitted out in less than the twinkling of an eye; so they launched it on the sea and embarking therein, together with four thousand Ifrits, set out, intending for Maymun’s palace. They also bade other five thousand Ifrits betake themselves to the island under the Crescent Mountain and there lie in wait for them ambushed well. Thus fared it with the kings of the Jann; but as regards Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif Iblis and his son Al-Shisban the twain set out, as we have said, with their troops, who were of the doughtiest of the Jinn and the prowest of them in wing-flying and horse-manship, and fared on till they drew near the Crescent Mountain. When the news of their approach reached Maymun, he cried out with a mighty great cry to the troops, who were twenty thousand riders, and bade them make ready for departure. Then he went in to Tohfah and kissing her, said, “Know that thou art this day my life of the world, and indeed the Jinns are gathered together to wage war on me for thy sake. An I win the day from them and am preserved alive, I will set all the kings of the Jann under thy feet and thou shalt become queen of the world.” But she shook her head and shed tears; and he said, “Weep not, for I swear by the virtue of the mighty inscription borne on the seal-ring of Solomon, thou shalt never again see the land of men; no, never! Say me, can any one part with his life? Give ear, then, to my words; else will I slay thee.” So she was silent. And forthright he sent for his daughter, whose name was Jamrah,245 and when she came, he said to her, “Harkye, Jamrah! Know that I am going to fight the clans of Al-Shisban and Queen Kamariyah and the Kings of the Jann. An I be vouch-safed the victory over them, to Allah be the laud and thou shalt have of me largesse;246 but, an thou see or hear that I am worsted and any come to thee with ill news of me, hasten to kill Tohfah, so she may fall neither to me nor to them.” Then he farewelled her and mounted, saying, “When this cometh about, pass over to the Crescent Mountain and take up thine abode there, and await what shall befal me and what I shall say to thee.” And Jamrah answered “Hearkening and obedience.” Now when the Songstress heard these words, she fell to weeping and wailing and said, “By Allah, naught irketh me but severance from my lord Al-Rashid; however, when I am dead, let the world be ruined after me!”247 And she was certified in herself that she was assuredly lost. Then Maymun set forth with his army and departed in quest of the hosts of the Jinn, leaving none in the palace save his daughter Jamrah and Tohfah and an Ifrit which was dear to him. They fared on till they met with the army of Al-Shisban; and when the two hosts came face to face, they fell each upon other and fought a fight, a passing sore than which naught could be more. After a while, Al-Shisban’s troops began to give way, and when Maymun saw them do thus, he despised them and made sure of victory over them. On this wise it befel them; but as regards Queen Kamariyah and her company they sailed on without ceasing, till they came under the palace wherein was Tohfah, to wit, that of Maymun the Sworder; and by the decree of the Lord of destiny, the Songstress herself was at that very time sitting on the belvedere of the palace, pondering the affair of Harun al-Rashid and her own and that which had befallen her and weeping for that she was doomed to death. She saw the vessel and what was therein of those we have named, and they in mortal guise, and said, “Alas, my sorrow for this ship and for the men that be therein!” As for Kamariyah and her many, when they drew near the palace, they strained their eyes and seeing the Songstress sitting, cried, “Yonder sitteth Tohfah. May Allah not bereave us of her!” Then they moored their craft and, making for the island which lay over against the palace, spread carpets and sat eating and drinking; whereupon quoth Tohfah, “Well come and welcome to yonder faces! These be my kinswomen and I conjure thee by Allah, O Jamrah, that thou let me down to them, so I may sit with them awhile and enjoy kindly converse with them and return.” Quoth Jamrah, “I may on no wise do that;” and Tohfah wept. Then the folk brought out wine and drank, while Kamariyah took the lute and sang these couplets,
“By Allah, had I never hoped to greet you
Your guide had failed on camel to seat you!
Far bore you parting from friend would greet you
Till meseems mine eyes for your wone entreat you.”
When Tohfah heard this, she cried out so great a cry, that the folk heard her and Kamariyah said, “Relief is nearhand.” Then the Songstress looked out to them and called to them, saying, “O daughters of mine uncle, I am a lonely maid, an exile from kin and country: so for the love of Allah Almighty, repeat that song!” Accordingly Kamariyah repeated it and Tohfah swooned away. When she came to herself, she said to Jamrah, “By the rights of the Apostle of Allah (whom may He save and assain!) unless thou suffer me go down to them and look on them and sit with them for a full hour, I will hurl myself headlong from this palace, for that I am aweary of my life and know that I am slain to all certainty; wherefore will I kill myself, ere you pass sentence upon me.” And she was instant with her in asking. When Jamrah heard her words, she knew that, an she let her not down, she would assuredly destroy herself. So she said to her, “O Tohfah, between thee and them are a thousand cubits, but I will bring the women up to thee.” The Songstress replied, “Nay, there is no help but that I go down to them and solace me in the island and look upon the sea anear; then will we return, I and thou; for that, an thou bring them up to us, they will be affrighted and there will betide them neither joy nor gladness. As for me, I wish but to be with them, that they may cheer me with their company neither give over their merrymaking, so peradventure I may broaden my breast with them, and indeed I swear that needs must I go down to them; else I will cast myself upon them.” And she cajoled Jamrah and kissed her hands, till she said, “Arise and I will set thee down beside them.” Then she took Tohfah under her armpit and flying up swiftlier than the blinding leven, set her down with Kamariyah and her company; whereupon she went up to them and accosted them, saying, “Fear ye not: no harm shall befal you; for I am a mortal, like unto you, and I would fain look on you and talk with you and hear your singing.” So they welcomed her and kept their places whilst Jamrah sat down beside them and fell a-snuffing their odours and saying, “I smell the scent of the Jinn!248 Would I wot whence it cometh!” Then said Wakhimah to her sister Kamariyah, “Yonder foul slut smelleth us and presently she will take to flight; so what be this inaction concerning her?”249 Thereupon Kamariyah put out an arm long as a camel’s neck, and dealt Jamrah a buffet on the head, that made it fly from her body and cast it into the sea. Then cried she, “Allah is All-great!”250 And they uncovered their faces, whereupon Tohfah knew them and said to them, “Protection!” Queen Kamariyah embraced her, as also did Queen Zalzalah and Queen Wakhimah and Queen Shararah, and the first-named said to her, “Receive the good tidings of assured safety, for there abideth no harm for thee; but this is no time for talk.” Then they cried out, whereupon up came the Ifrits ambushed in that island, hending swords and maces in hand, and taking up Tohfah, flew her to the palace and made themselves masters of it, whilst the Ifrit aforesaid, who was dear to Maymun and whose name was Dukhán,251 fled like an arrow and stinted not flying till he came to Maymun and found him fighting a sore fight with the Jinn. When his lord saw him, he cried out at him, saying, “Fie upon thee! Whom hast thou left in the palace?” Dukhan answered, saying, “And who abideth in the palace? Thy beloved Tohfah they have captured and Jamrah is slain and they have taken the palace, all of it.” At these ill tidings Maymun buffeted his face and head and said, “Oh! Out on it for a calamity!” Then he cried aloud. Now Kamariyah had sent to her sire and reported to him the news, whereat the raven of the wold252 croaked for the foe. So, when Maymun saw that which had betided him (and indeed the Jinn smote upon him and the wings of eternal severance overspread his host), he planted the heel of his lance in the earth and turning its head to his heart, urged his charger thereat and pressed upon it with his breast, till the point came forth gleaming from his back. Meanwhile the messenger had made the friendly host with the news of Tohfah’s deliverance, whereat the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif rejoiced and bestowed on the bringer of lief tidings a sumptuous robe of honour and made him commander over a company of the Jann. Then they charged home upon Maymun’s host and wiped them out to the last man; and when they came to Maymun, they found that he had slain himself and was even as we have said. Presently Kamariyah and her sister Wakhimah came up to their grandfather and told him what they had done; whereupon he came to Tohfah and saluted her with the salam and congratulated her on deliverance. Then he made over Maymun’s palace to Salhab; and, taking all the rebel’s wealth gave it to the Songstress, while the troops encamped upon the Crescent Mountain. Furthermore, the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif said to Tohfah, “Blame me not,” and she kissed his hands, when behold, there appeared to them the tribes of the Jinn, as they were clouds, and Queen Al-Shahba flying in their van, drawn sword in grip. As she came in sight of the folk, they kissed ground between her hands and she said to them, “Tell me what hath betided Queen Tohfah from yonder dog Maymun and why did ye not send to me and report to me?” Quoth they, “And who was this dog that we should send to thee on his account? Indeed he was the least and lowest of the Jinn.” Then they told her what Kamariyah and her sisters had done and how they had practiced upon Maymun and delivered the Songstress from his hand, fearing lest he should slay her when he found himself defeated; and she said, “By Allah, the accursed was wont to lengthen his looking upon her!” And Tohfah fell to kissing Al-Shahba’s hand, whilst the queen strained her to her bosom and kissed her, saying, “Trouble is past; so rejoice in assurance of deliverance.” Then they rose and went up to the palace whereupon the trays of food were brought and they ate and drank; after which quoth Queen Al-Shahba, “O Tohfah, sing to us, by way of sweetmeat253 for thine escape, and favour us with that which shall solace our minds, for that indeed my thoughts have been occupied with thee.” And quoth Tohfah, “Hearkening and obedience, O my lady.” So she improvised and sang these couplets,
“Breeze of East254 an thou breathe o’er the dear ones’ land
Speed, I pray thee, my special salute and salam:
And say them I’m pledged to love them and
In pine that passeth all pine I am.”
Thereat Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced and with her all who were present; and they admired her speech and fell to kissing her; and when she had made an end of her song, Queen Kamariyah said to her, “O my sister, ere thou go to thy palace, I would fain bring thee to look upon Al-‘Anká,255 daughter of Bahram Júr, whom Al-‘Anka, daughter of the wind, carried off, and her beauty; for that there is not her fellow on earth’s face.” And Queen Al-Shahba said, “O Kamariyah, I also think it were well an I beheld her.” Quoth Kamirayah, “I saw her three years ago; but my sister Wakhimah seeth her at all times, for she is near to her people, and she saith that there is not in the world fairer than she. Indeed, this Queen Al-Anka is become a byword for beauty and comeliness.” And Wakhimah said, “By the mighty inscription on the seal-ring of Solomon, there is not her like for loveliness here below.” Then said Queen Al-Shahba, “An it needs must be and the affair is as ye say, I will take Tohfah and go with her to Al-Anka, so she may look upon her!” So they all arose and repaired to Al-Anka, who abode in the Mountain Kaf. When she saw them, she drew near to them and saluted them, saying, “O my ladies, may I not be bereaved of you!” Quoth Wakhimah to her, “Who is like unto thee, O Anka? Behold, Queen Al-Shahba is come to thee.” So Al-Anka kissed the Queen’s feet and lodged them in her palace; whereupon Tohfah came up to her and fell to kissing her and saying, “Never saw I seemlier than this semblance.” Then she set before them somewhat of food and they ate and washed their hands; after which the Songstress took the lute and smote it well; and Al-Anka also played, and they fell to improvising verses in turns, whilst Tohfah embraced Al-Anka every moment. Al-Shahba cried, “O my sister, each kiss is worth a thousand dinars;” and Tohfah replied, “And a thousand dinars were little therefor;” whereat Al-Anka laughed and after nighting in her pavilion on the morrow they took leave of her and went away to Maymun’s palace. Here Queen Al-Shahba farewelled them and taking her troops, returned to her capital, whilst the kings also went away to their abodes and the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif applied himself to diverting Tohfah till nightfall, when he mounted her on the back of one of the Ifrits and bade other thirty gather together all that she had gotten of treasure and raiment, jewels and robes of honour. Then they flew off, whilst Iblis went with her, and in less than the twinkling of an eye he set her down in her sleeping room, where he and those who were with him bade adieu to her and went away. When Tohfah found herself in her own chamber256 and on her couch, her reason fled for joy and it seemed to her as if she had never stirred thence: then she took the lute and tuned it and touched it in wondrous fashion and improvised verses and sang. The Eunuch heard the smiting of the lute within the chamber and cried, “By Allah, that is the touch of my lady Tohfah!” So he arose and went, as he were a madman, falling down and rising up, till he came to the Castrato on guard at the gate of the Commander of the Faithful and found him sitting. When his fellow neutral saw him, and he like a madman, slipping down and stumbling up, he asked him, “What aileth thee and what bringeth thee hither at this hour?” The other answered, “Wilt thou not make haste and awaken the Prince of True Believers?” And he fell to crying out at him; whereupon the Caliph awoke and heard them bandying words together and Tohfah’s slave crying to the other, “Woe to thee! Awaken the Commander of the Faithful in haste.” So quoth he, “O Sawab, what hast thou to say?” and quoth the Chief Eunuch, “O our lord, the Eunuch of Tohfah’s lodging hath lost his wits and crieth, ‘Awaken the Commander of the Faithful in haste!’ “ Then said Al-Rashid to one of his slave-girls, “See what may be the matter.” Accordingly she hastened to admit the Castrato, who entered at her order; and when he saw the Commander of the Faithful, he salamed not neither kissed ground, but cried in his hurry, “Quick: up with thee! My lady Tohfah sitteth in her chamber, singing a goodly ditty. Come to her in haste and see all that I say to thee! Hasten! She sitteth awaiting thee.” The Caliph was amazed at his speech and asked him, “What sayst thou?” He answered, “Didst thou not hear the first of the speech? Tohfah sitteth in the sleeping-chamber, singing and lute-playing. Come thy quickest! Hasten!” Accordingly Al-Rashid sprang up and donned his dress; but he believed not the Eunuch’s words and said to him, “Fie upon thee! What is this thou sayst? Hast thou not seen this in a dream?” Quoth the Eunuch, “By Allah, I wot not what thou sayest, and I was not asleep;” and quoth Al-Rashid, “An thy speech be soothfast, it shall be for thy good luck, for I will free thee and give thee a thousand gold pieces; but, an it be untrue and thou have seen this in dream-land, I will crucify thee.” The Eunuch said within himself, “O Protector, let me not have seen this in vision!” then he left the Caliph and running to the chamber-door, heard the sound of singing and lute-playing; whereupon he returned to Al-Rashid and said to him, “Go and hearken and see who is asleep.” When the Prince of True Believers drew near the door of the sleeping-chamber, he heard the sound of the lute and Tohfah’s voice singing; whereat he could not restrain his reason and was like to faint for excess of delight. Then he pulled out the key but his hand refused to draw the bolt: however, after a while, he took heart and applying himself, opened the door and entered, saying, “Methinks this is none other than a vision or an imbroglio of dreams.” When Tohfah saw him, she rose and coming to meet him, pressed him to her breast; and he cried out a cry wherein his sprite was like to depart and fell down in a fit. She again strained him to her bosom and sprinkled on him rose-water mingled with musk, and washed his face, till he came to himself, as he were a drunken man, and shed tears for the stress of his joy in Tohfah’s return to him, after he had despaired of her returning. Then she took the lute and smote thereon, after the fashion she had learnt from Shaykh Iblis, so that Al-Rashid’s wit was bewildered for excess of joy and his understanding was confounded for exultation; after which she improvised and sang these couplets,
“That I left thee my heart to believe is unlief;
For the life that’s in it ne’er leaveth; brief,
An thou say ‘I went,’ saith my heart ‘What a fib!’
And I bide ’twixt believing and unbelief.”
When she had made an end of her verses, Al-Rashid said to her, “O Tohfah, thine absence was wondrous, yet is thy presence still more marvellous.” She replied, “By Allah, O my lord, thou sayst sooth;” then, taking his hand, she said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, see what I have brought with me.” So he looked and spied treasures such as neither words could describe nor registers could document, pearls and jewels and jacinths and precious stones and unions and gorgeous robes of honour, adorned with margarites and jewels and purfled with red gold. There he beheld what he never had beheld all his life long, not even in idea; and she showed him that which Queen Al-Shahba had bestowed on her of those carpets, which she had brought with her, and that throne, the like whereof neither KisrB possessed nor CFsar, and those tables inlaid with pearls and jewels and those vessels which amazed all who looked on them, and that crown which was on the head of the circumcised boy, and those robes of honour, which Queen Al-Shahba and Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif had doffed and donned upon her, and the trays wherein were those treasures; brief, she showed him wealth whose like he had never in his life espied and which the tongue availeth not to describe and whereat all who looked thereon were bewildered, Al-Rashid was like to lose his wits for amazement at this spectacle and was confounded at that he sighted and witnessed. Then said he to Tohfah, “Come, tell me thy tale from beginning to end, and let me know all that hath betided thee, as if I had been present.” She answered, “Hearkening and obedience,” and acquainting him with all that had betided her first and last, from the time when she first saw the Shaykh Abu al-Tawáif, how he took her and descended with her through the side of the Chapel of Ease; and she told him of the horse she had ridden, till she came to the meadow aforesaid and described it to him, together with the palace and that was therein of furniture, and related to him how the Jinn rejoiced in her, and whatso she had seen of their kings, masculine and feminine, and of Queen Kamariyah and her sisters and Queen Shu’a’ah, Regent of the Fourth Sea, and Queen Al-Shahba, Queen of Queens, and King Al-Shisban, and that which each one of them had bestowed upon her. Moreover, she recited to him the story of Maymun the Sworder and described to him his fulsome favour, which he had not deigned to change, and related to him that which befel her from the kings of the Jinn, male and female, and the coming of the Queen of Queens, Al-Shahba, and how she had loved her and appointed her her vice-reine and how she was thus become ruler over all the kings of the Jann; and she showed him the writ of investiture which Queen Al-Shahba had written her and told him what had betided her with the Ghulish Head, when it appeared to her in the garden, and how she had despatched it to her palace, beseeching it to bring her news of the Commander of the Faithful and of what had betided him after her. Then she described to him the flower-gardens, wherein she had taken her pleasure, and the Hammam-baths inlaid with pearls and jewels and told him that which had befallen Maymun the Sworder, when he bore her off, and how he had slain himself; in fine, she related to him everything she had seen of wonders and marvels and that which she had beheld of all kinds and colours among the Jinn. Then she told him the story of Al-Anka, daughter of Bahram Jur, with Al-Anka, daughter of the wind, and described to him her dwelling-place and her island, whereupon quoth Al-Rashid, “O Tohfat al-Sadr,257 tell me of Al-Anka, daughter of Bahram Jur; is she of the Jinn-kind or of mankind or of the bird-kind? For this long time have I desired to find one who should tell me of her.” Tohfah replied, “’Tis well, O Commander of the Faithful. I asked the queen of this and she acquainted me with her case and told me who built her the palace.” Quoth Al-Rashid, “Allah upon thee, tell it me;” and quoth Tohfah, “I will well,” and proceeded to tell him. And he was amazed at that which he heard from her and what she reported to him and at that which she had brought back of jewels and jacinths of various hues and precious stones of many sorts, such as amazed the beholder and confounded thought and mind. As for this, Tohfah was the means of the enrichment of the Barmecides and the Abbasides, and they had endurance in their delight. Then the Caliph went forth and bade decorate the city: so they decorated it and the drums of glad tidings were beaten; and they made banquets to the people for whom the tables were spread seven days. And Tohfah and the Commander of the Faithful ceased not to enjoy the most delightsome of life and the most prosperous till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies; and this is all that hath come down to us of their story.
131 Bresl. Edit. vol xi. pp. 400-473 and vol. xii. pp. 4-50, Nights dccccxli.-dcccclvii. For Kashghar, see vol. i. 255.
132 Mr. Payne proposes to translate “‘Anbar” by amber, the semi-fossilised resin much used in modern days, especially in Turkey and Somaliland, for bead necklaces. But, as he says, the second line distinctly alludes to the perfume which is sewn in leather and hung about the neck, after the fashion of our ancient pomanders (pomme d’ ambre).
133 i.e. The Caliph: see vol. i. p. 50.
134 Arab. “Adab:” see vol. i. 132, etc. In Moslem dialects which borrow more or less from Arabic, “Bí-adabí"— without being Adab, means rudeness, disrespect, “impertinence” (in its modern sense).
135 i.e. Isaac of Mosul, the greatest of Arab musicians: see vol. iv. 119.
136 The elder brother of Ja’afar, by no means so genial or fitted for a royal frolic. See Terminal Essay.
137 Ibn Habíb, a friend of Isaac, and a learned grammarian who lectured at Basrah.
138 A suburb of Baghdad, mentioned by Al Mas’údi.
139 Containing the rooms in which the girl or girls were sold. See Pilgrimage i. 87.
140 Dozy quotes this passage but cannot explain the word Fawwák.
141 “A passage has apparently dropped out here. The Khalif seems to have gone away without buying, leaving Ishak behind, whereupon the latter was accosted by another slave-girl, who came out of a cell in the corridor.” So says Mr. Payne. vol. ii. 207. The “raiser of the veil” means a fitting purchaser.
142 i.e. “Choice gift of the Fools,” a skit upon the girl’s name “Tohfat al-Kulúb”=Choice gift of the Hearts. Her folly consisted in refusing to be sold at a high price, and this is often seen in real life. It is a Pundonor amongst good Moslems not to buy a girl and not to sleep with her, even when bought, against her will.
143 “Every one cannot go to Corinth.” The question makes the assertion emphatic.
144 i.e. The Narrows of the (Dervishes’) convent.
145 Arab. “AkwB min dahni ‘l-lanz.” These unguents have been used in the East from time immemorial whilst the last generation in England knew nothing of anointing with oil for incipient consumption. A late friend of mine, Dr. Stocks of the Bombay Establishment, and I proposed it as long back as 1845; but in those days it was a far cry from Sind to London.
146 The sequel will explain why she acted in this way.
147 i.e. Thou hast made my gold piece (10 shill.) worth only a doit by thy superiority in the art and mystery of music.
148 Arab. “Uaddíki,” Taadiyah (iid. of Adá, he assisted) means sending, forwarding. In Egypt and Syria we often find the form “Waddi” for Addi, imperative.
149 Again “he” for “she”.
150 i.e. Honey and wine.
151 i.e. he died.
152 i.e. if my hand had lost its cunning.
153 Arab. “Thiyáb ‘Amúdiyah”: ‘Amud=tent prop or column, and Khatt ‘Amúd=a perpendicular line.
154 i.e. a choice gift. The Caliph speaks half ironically. “Where’s this wonderful present etc?” So further on when he compares her with the morning.
155 Again the usual pun upon the name.
156 Throughout the East this is the action of a servant or a slave, practised by freemen only when in danger of life or extreme need an i therefore humiliating.
157 It had been thrown down from the Mamrak or small dome built over such pavilions for the purpose of light by day and ventilation by night. See vol. i. 257, where it is called by the Persian term “Badhánj.”
158 The Nights have more than once applied this patronymic to Zubaydah. See vol. viii. 56, 158.
159 Arab. “Mutahaddisín”=novi homines, upstarts.
160 i.e.. thine auspicious visits.
161 He being seated on the carpet at the time.
162 A quotation from Al-Farazdat who had quarrelled with his wife Al-Howár (see the tale in Ibn Khallikan, i. 521), hence “the naked intercessor” became proverbial for one who cannot be withstood.
163 i.e. Choice Gift of the Breasts, that is of hearts, the continens for the contentum.
164 Pron. “Abuttawáif,” the Father of the (Jinn-)tribes. It is one of the Moslem Satan’s manifold names, alluding to the number of his servants and worshippers, so far agreeing with that amiable Christian doctrine, “Few shall be saved.”
165 Mr. Payne supplies this last clause from the sequence.
166 i.e. “Let us go,” with a euphemistic formula to defend her from evil influences. Iblis uses the same word to prevent her being frightened.
167 Arab. “Al-Mustaráh,” a favourite haunting place of the Jinn, like the Hammám and other offices for human impurity. For its six names Al-Khalá, Al-Hushsh, Al-Mutawazzá, Al-Kaníf, Al-Mustaráh, and Mirház, see Al-Mas’udi, chap. cxxvii., and Shiríshi’s commentary to Hariri’s 47, Assembly.
168 Which, in the East, is high and prominent whilst the cantle forms a back to the seat and the rider sits as in a baby’s chair. The object is a firm seat when fighting: “across country” it is exceedingly dangerous.
169 In Swedenborg’s “Arcane CÉlestia” we read, “When man’s inner sight is opened which is that of kits spirit; then there appear the things of another life which cannot be made visible to the bodily sight.” Also “Evil spirits, when seen by eyes other than those of their infernal associates, present themselves by correspondence in the beast (fera) which represents their particular lust and life, in aspect direful and atrocious.” These are the Jinns of Northern Europe.
170 This exchange of salams was a sign of her being in safety.
171 Arab. “Shawáhid,” meaning that heart testifies to heart.
172 i.e. A live coal, afterwards called Zalzalah, an earthquake; see post p. 76. “Wakhímah”=an unhealthy land, and “Sharárah”=a spark.
173 I need hardly note the inscriptions upon the metal trays sold to Europeans. They are usually imitation words so that infidel eyes may not look upon the formulF of prayer; and the same is the case with table-cloths, etc., showing a fancy Tohgra or Sultanic sign-manual.
174 i.e.. I cannot look at them long.
175 Evidently a diabolical way of clapping his hands in applause. This description of the Foul Fiend has an element of grotesqueness which is rather Christian than Moslem.
176 Arab. “Rikkí al-Saut,” which may also mean either “lower thy voice,” or “change the air to one less touching.”
177 “Your” for “thy.”
178 i.e. written on the “Guarded Tablet” from all eternity.
179 Arab. “Al-‘Urs wa’al Tubúr” which can only mean, ‘the wedding (which does not drop out of the tale) and the circumcision.”
180 I here propose to consider at some length this curious custom which has prevailed amongst so many widely separated races. Its object has been noted (vol. v. 209), viz. to diminish the sensibility of the glans, no longer lubricated with prostatic lymph; thus the part is hardened against injury and disease and its work in coition is prolonged. On the other hand, “prFputium in coitu voluptatem (of the woman) auget, unde femina prFputiatis concubitum malunt quam cum Turcis ac JudFis “ says Dimerbroeck (Anatomic). I vehemently doubt the fact. Circumcision was doubtless practised from ages immemorial by the peoples of Central Africa, and Welcker found traces of it in a mummy of the xvith century B.C. The Jews borrowed it from the Egyptian priesthood and made it a manner of sacrament, “uncircumcised” being=“unbaptised,” that is, barbarian, heretic; it was a seal of reconciliation, a sign of alliance between the Creator and the Chosen People, a token of nationality imposed upon the body politic. Thus it became a cruel and odious protestation against the brotherhood of man, and the cosmopolitan Romans derided the verpF ac verpi. The Jews also used the term figuratively as the “circumcision of fruits” (Lev. xix. 23), and of the heart (Deut. x. 16), and the old law gives copious historical details of its origin and continuance. Abraham first amputated his horny “calotte” at aet. 99, and did the same for his son and household (Gen. xvii. 24-27). The rite caused a separation between Moses and his wife (Exod. iv. 25). It was suspended during the Desert Wanderings and was resumed by Joshua (v. 3-7), who cut off two tons’ weight of prepuces. The latter became, like the scalps of the Scythians and the North-American “Indians” trophies of victory; Saul promised his daughter Michol to David for a dowry of one hundred, and the son-in-law brought double tale.
Amongst the early Christians opinions concerning the rite differed. Although the Founder of Christianity was circumcised, St. Paul, who aimed at a cosmopolitan faith discouraged it in the physical phase. St. Augustine still sustained that the rite removed original sin despite the Fathers who preceded and followed him, Justus, Tertullian, Ambrose and others. But it gradually lapsed into desuetude and was preserved only in the outlying regions. Paulus Jovius and Munster found it practised in Abyssinia, but as a mark of nobility confined to the descendants of “Nicaules, queen of Sheba.” The Abyssinians still follow the Jews in performing the rite within eight days after the birth and baptise boys after forty and girls after eighty days. When a circumcised man became a Jew he was bled before three witnesses at the place where the prepuce had been cut off and this was called the “Blood of alliance.” Apostate Jews effaced the sing of circumcision: so in 1 Matt. i. 16, fecerunt sibi prFputia et recesserunt a Testamento Sancto. Thus making prepuces was called by the Hebrews Meshookim=recutitis, and there is an allusion to it in 1 Cor. vii. 18, 19, ì¬ ¥ðéóðÜóháé (Farrar, Paul ii. 70). St. Jerome and others deny the possibility; but Mirabeau (Akropodie) relates how Father Conning by liniments of oil, suspending weights, and wearing the virga in a box gained in 43 days 7¼ lines. The process is still practiced by Armenians and other Christians who, compelled to Islamise, wish to return to Christianity. I cannot however find a similar artifice applied to a circumcised clitoris. The simplest form of circumcision is mere amputation of the prepuce and I have noted (vol. v. 209) the difference between the Moslem and the Jewish rite, the latter according to some being supposed to heal in kindlier way. But the varieties of circumcision are immense. Probably none is more terrible than that practiced in the Province Al-Asír, the old Ophir, Iying south of Al-Hijáz, where it is called Salkh, lit.=scarification The patient, usually from ten to twelve years old, is placed upon raised ground holding in right hand a spear, whose heel rests upon his foot and whose point shows every tremour of the nerves. The tribe stands about him to pass judgment on his fortitude and the barber performs the operation with the Jumbiyah-dagger, sharp as a razor. First he makes a shallow cut, severing only the skin across the belly immediately below the navel, and similar incisions down each groin; then he tears off the epidermis from the cuts downwards and flays the testicles and the penis, ending with amputation of the foreskin. Meanwhile the spear must not tremble and in some clans the lad holds a dagger over the back of the stooping barber, crying, “Cut and fear not!” When the ordeal is over, he exclaims, “Allaho Akbar!” and attempts to walk towards the tents soon falling for pain and nervous exhaustion, but the more steps he takes the more applause he gains. He is dieted with camel’s milk, the wound is treated with salt and turmeric, and the chances in his favour are about ten to one. No body-pile or pecten ever grows upon the excoriated part which preserves through life a livid ashen hue. Whilst Mohammed Ali Pasha occupied the province he forbade “scarification” under pain of impalement, but it was resumed the moment he left Al-Asir. In Africa not only is circumcision indigenous, the operation varies more or less in the different tribes. In Dahome it is termed Addagwibi, and is performed between the twelfth and twentieth year. The rough operation is made peculiar by a double cut above and below; the prepuce being treated in the Moslem, not the Jewish fashion (loc. cit.). Heated sand is applied as a styptic and the patient is dieted with ginger-soup and warm drinks of ginger-water, pork being especially forbidden. The Fantis of the Gold Coast circumcise in sacred places, e.g., at Accra on a Fetish rock rising from the sea The peoples of Sennaar, Taka, Masawwah and the adjacent regions follow the Abyssinian custom. The barbarous Bissagos and Fellups of North Western Guinea make cuts on the prepuce without amputating it; while the Baquens and Papels circumcise like Moslems. The blacks of Loango are all “verpF,” otherwise they would be rejected by the women. The Bantu or Caffre tribes are circumcised between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, the “Fetish boys,” as we call them, are chalked white and wear only grass belts; they live outside the villages in special houses under an old “medicine-man,” who teaches them not only virile arts but also to rob and fight. The “man-making” may last five months and ends in fLtes and dances: the patients are washed in the river, they burn down their quarters, take new names, and become adults, donning a kind of straw thimble over the prepuce. In Madagascar three several cuts are made causing much suffering to the children, and the nearest male relative swallows the prepuce. The Polynesians circumcise when childhood ends and thus consecrate the fecundating organ to the Deity. In Tahiti the operation is performed by the priest, and in Tonga only the priest is exempt. The Maories on the other hand, fasten the prepuce over the glans, and the women of the Marquesas Islands have shown great cruelty to shipwrecked sailors who expose the glans. Almost all the known Australian tribes circumcise after some fashion: Bennett supposes the rite to have been borrowed from the Malays, while Gason enumerates the “Kurrawellie wonkauna among the five mutilations of puberty. Leichhardt found circumcision about the Gulf of Carpentaria and in the river-valleys of the Robinson and Macarthur: others observed it on the Southern Coast a nd among the savages of Perth, where it is noticed by Salvado. James Dawson tells us “Circumciduntur pueri,” etc., in Western Victoria. Brough Smyth, who supposes the object is to limit population (?), describes on the Western Coast and in Central Australia the “Corrobery”-dance and the operation performed with a quartz-flake. Teichelmann details the rite in Southern Australia where the assistants — all men, women, and children being driven away — form a “manner of human altar” upon which the youth is laid for circumcision. He then receives the normal two names, public and secret, and is initiated into the mysteries proper for men. The Australians also for Malthusian reasons produce an artificial hypospadias, while the Karens of New Guinea only split the prepuce longitudinally (Cosmos p. 369, Oct. 1876); the indigens of Port Lincoln on the West Coast split the virga:— Fenditur usque ad urethram a parse infera penis between the ages of twelve and fourteen, says E. J. Eyre in 1845. Missionary Schurmann declares that they open the urethra. Gason describes in the Dieyerie tribe the operation ‘Kulpi” which is performed when the beard is long enough for tying. The member is placed upon a slab of tree-bark, the urethra is incised with a quartz-flake mounted in a gum handle and a splinter of bark is inserted to keep the cut open. These men may appear naked before women who expect others to clothe themselves. Miklucho Maclay calls it “Mike” in Central Australia: he was told by a squatter that of three hundred men only three or four had the member intact in order to get children, and that in one tribe the female births greatly outnumbered the male. Those mutilated also marry: when making water they sit like women slightly raising the penis, this in coition becomes flat and broad and the semen does not enter the matrix. The explorer believes that the deed of kind is more quickly done (?). Circumcision was also known to the New World. Herrera relates that certain Mexicans cut off the ears and prepuce of the newly born child, causing many to die. The Jews did not adopt the female circumcision of Egypt described by Huet on Origen —“Circumcisio feminarum fit resectione ôò íõìnò (sive clitoridis) quF pars in Australium mulieribus ita crescit ut ferro est coërcenda.” Here we have the normal confusion between excision of the nymphF (usually for fibulation) and circumcision of the clitoris. Bruce notices this clitoridectomy among the Aybssinians. Werne describes the excision on the Upper White Nile and I have noted the complicated operation among the Somali tribes. Girls in Dahome are circumcised by ancient sages femmes, and a woman in the natural state would be derided by every one (See my Mission to Dahome, ii. 159) The Australians cut out the clitoris, and as I have noted elsewhere extirpate the ovary for Malthusian purposes (Journ Anthrop. Inst., vol. viii. of 1884).
181 Arab. “Kayrawán” which is still the common name for curlew, the peewit and plover being called (onomatopoetically) “Bibat” and in Marocco Yahúdi, certain impious Jews having been turned into the Vanellus Cristatus which still wears the black skullcap of the
182 Arab. “Sawáki,” the leats which irrigate the ground and are opened and closed with
183 The eighth (in altitude) of the many-storied Heavens.
184 Arab. “Ihramat li al-Salát,“i.e., she pronounced the formula of Intention (Niyat) with out which prayer is not valid, ending with Allaho Akbar — Allah is All-great. Thus she had clothed herself, as it were, in prayer and had retired from the world pro temp.
185 i.e.. the prayers of the last day and night which she had neglected while in company with the Jinns. The Hammam is not a pure place to pray in; but the Farz or Koranic orisons should be recited there if the legal term be hard upon its end.
186 Slaves, male as well as female, are as fond of talking over their sale as European dames enjoy looking back upon the details of courtship and marriage.
187 Arab. “Du’á,"=supplication, prayer, as opposed to ‘Salát”=divine worship, “prayers” For the technical meaning of the latter see vol. iv. 65. I have objected to Mr. Redhouse’s distinction without a difference between Moslem’s worship and prayer: voluntary prayers: are not prohibited to them and their praises of the Lord are mingled, as amongst all worshippers, with petitions.
188 Al-Muzfir=the Twister; Zafáir al-Jinn=Adiantum capillus veneris Lúlúah=The Pearl, or Wild Heifer; see vol. ix. 218.
189 Arab. “Bi jildi ‘l-baker.” I hope that captious critics will not find fault with my rendering, as they did in the case of Fals ahmar=a red cent, vol. i. 321.
190 Arab. “Farásah”=lit. knowing a horse. Arabia abounds in tales illustrating abnormal powers of observation. I have noted this in vol. viii. 326.
191 i.e. the owner of this palace.
192 She made the Ghusl not because she had slept with a man, but because the impurity of Satan’s presence called for the major ablution before prayer.
193 i.e. she conjoined the prayers of nightfall with those of dawn.
194 i.e.. Those of midday, mid-afternoon and sunset.
195 Arab. “Sahbá” red wine preferred for the morning draught.
196 The Apostle who delighted in women and perfumes. Persian poetry often alludes to the rose which, before white, was dyed red by his sweat.
197 For the etymology of Julnár — Byron’s “Gulnare”— see vol. vii. 268. Here the rhymer seems to refer to its origin; Gul (Arab. Jul) in Persian a rose; and Anár, a pomegranate, which in Arabic becomes Nár=fire.
198 i.e. “The brilliant,” the enlightened.
199 i.e.. the moral beauty.
200 A phenomenon well known to spiritualists and to “The House and the Haunter.” An old Dutch factory near Hungarian Fiume is famed for this mode of “obsession” the inmates hear the sound of footfalls, etc., behind them, especially upon the stairs; and see nothing.
201 The two short Koranic chapters, The Daybreak (cxiii.) and The Men (cxiv. and last) evidently so called from the words which occur in both (versets i., “I take refuge with”). These “Ma’úzatáni,” as they are called, are recited as talismans or preventives against evil, and are worn as amulets inscribed on parchment; they are also often used in the five canonical prayers. I have translated them in vol. iii. 222.
202 The artistes or fugleman at prayer who leads off the orisons of the congregation; and applied to the Caliph as the head of the faith. See vol. ii. 203 and iv. 111.
203 Arab. “ ‘Ummár” i.e. the Jinn, the “spiritual creatures” which walk this earth, and other non-humans who occupy it.
204 A parallel to this bodiless Head is the Giant Face, which appears to travellers (who expect it) in the Lower Valley of the Indus. See Sind Re-visited, ii. 155.
205 Arab. “Ghalílí"=my yearning.
206 Arab. “Ahbábu-ná” plur. for singular=my beloved.
207 i.e. her return.
208 Arab. “Arja’” lit. return! but here meaning to stop. It is much used by donkey-boys from Cairo to Fez in the sense of “Get out of the way.” Hence the Spanish arre! which gave rise to arriero=a carrier, a muleteer.
209 Arab. “Afras” lit.=a better horseman.
210 A somewhat crippled quotation from Koran lvi. 87-88, “As for him who is of those brought near unto Allah, there shall be for him easance and basil and a Garden of Delights (Na’ím).”
211 i.e. Queen Sunbeam.
212 See vol. i. 310 for this compound perfume which contains musk, ambergris and other essences.
213 I can hardly see the sequence of this or what the carpets have to do here.
214 Here, as before, some insertion has been found necessary.
215 Arab. “Dukhúlak” lit.=thy entering, entrance, becoming familiar.
216 Or “And in this there shall be to thee great honour over all the Jinn.”
217 Mr. Payne thus amends the text, “How loathly is yonder Genie Meimoun! There is no eating (in his presence);” referring back to p. 61.
218 i.e. “I cannot bear to see him!”
219 This assertion of dignity, which is permissible in royalty, has been absurdly affected by certain “dames” in Anglo-Egypt who are quite the reverse of queenly; and who degrade “dignity” to the vulgarest affectation.
220 i.e. “May thy visits never fail me!”
221 i.e. Ash-coloured, verging upon white.
222 i.e. “She will double thy store of presents.”
223 The Arab boy who, unlike the Jew, is circumcised long after infancy and often in his teens, thus making the ceremony conform after a fashion with our “Confirmation,” is displayed before being operated upon, to family and friends; and the seat is a couch covered with the richest tapestry. So far it resembles the bride-throne.
224 Tohfah.
225 i.e. Hindu, Indian.
226 Japhet, son of Noah.
227 Mr. Payne translates “Take this and glorify thyself withal over the people of the world.” His reading certainly makes better sense, but I do not see how the text can carry the meaning. He also omits the bussing of the bosom, probably for artistic reasons.
228 A skit at Ishák, making the Devil praise him. See vol. vii. 113.
229 Arab. “Mawázi” (plur. of Mauza’)=lit. places, shifts, passages.
230 The bed (farsh), is I presume, the straw-spread (?) store-room where the apples are preserved.
231 Arab. “Farkh warak”, which sounds like an atrocious vulgarism.
232 The Moss-rose; also the eglantine, or dog-rose, and the sweet-briar, whose leaf, unlike other roses, is so odorous.
233 The lily in Heb., derived by some from its six (shash) leaves, and by others from its vivid cheerful brightness. “His lips are lilies” (Cant. v. 13), not in colour, but in odoriferous sweetness.
234 The barber is now the usual operator; but all operations began in Europe with the “barber-surgeon.”
235 Sic in text xii. 20. It may be a misprint for Abú al-Tawaif, but it can also mean “O Shaykh of the Tribes (of Jinns)!”
236 The capital of King Al-Shisban.
237 Arab “Fajj”, the Spanish “Vega” which, however, means a mountain-plain, a plain.
238 i.e. I am quite sure: emphatically.
239 i.e. all the Jinn’s professions of affection and promises of protection were mere lies.
240 In the original this apodosis is wanting: see vol. vi. 203, 239.
241 Arab. “Dáhiyat al-Dawáhí;” see vol. ii. 87.
242 Arab. “Al-Jabal al-Mukawwar”= Chaîne de montagnes de forme demi circulaire, from Kaur, a park, an enceinte.
243 Arab. “Rúhí” lit. my breath, the outward sign of life.
244 i.e. Káf.
245 i.e. A bit of burning charcoal.
246 Arab. “Al-yad al-bayzá,"=lit. The white hand: see vol. iv. 185.
247 Showing the antiquity of “AprPs moi le déluge,” the fame of all old politicians and aged statesmen who can expect but a few years of life. These “burning questions” (e.g. the Bulgarian) may be smothered for a time, but the result is that they blaze forth with increased violence. We have to thank Lord Palmerston (an Irish landlord) for ignoring the growth of Fenianism and another aged statesman for a sturdy attempt to disunite the United Kingdom. An old nation wants young blood at its head.
248 Suggesting the nursery rhyme:
Fee, fo, fum
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
249 i.e. why not at once make an end of her.
250 The well-known war-cry.
251 Lit. “Smoke” pop. applied, like our word, to tobacco. The latter, however, is not here meant.
252 Arab. “Ghuráb al-bayn,” of the wold or of parting. See vol. vii. 226.
253 Arab. “Haláwah”; see vol. iv. 60.
254 Here the vocative particle “Yá” is omitted.
255 Lit. “The long-necked (bird)” before noticed with the Rukh (Roc) in vol. v. 122. Here it becomes a Princess, daughter of Bahrám-i-Gúr (Bahram of the Onager, his favourite game), the famous Persian king in the fifth century, a contemporary of Theodosius the younger and Honorius. The “Anká” is evidently the Iranian Símurgh.
256 “Chamber” is becoming a dangerous word in English. Roars of laughter from the gods greeted the great actor’s declamation, “The bed has not been slept in! Her little chamber is empty!”
257 Choice Gift of the breast (or heart).
On the following night Dunyazad said to her sister Shahrazad, “O sister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, prithee tell us a tale which shall beguile our watching through the dark hours.” She replied:— With love and gladness.259 It hath reached me, O magnificent King, that whilome there was in the city of Baghdad, a comely youth and a well bred, fair of favour, tall of stature, and slender of shape. His name was Alá al-Dín and he was of the chiefs of the sons of the merchants and had a shop wherein he sold and bought. One day, as he sat in his shop, there passed by him a merry girl260 who raised her head and casting a glance at the young merchant, saw written in a flowing hand on the forehead261 of his shop door these words, “THERE BE NO CRAFT SAVE MEN’S CRAFT, FORASMUCH AS IT OVERCOMETH WOMEN’S CRAFT.” When she beheld this, she was wroth and took counsel with herself, saying, As my head liveth, there is no help but I show him a marvel trick of the wiles of women and put to naught this his inscription!” Thereupon she hied her home; and on the morrow she made her ready and donning the finest of dress, adorned herself with the costliest of ornaments and the highest of price and stained her hands with henna. Then she let down her tresses upon her shoulders and went forth, walking with coquettish gait and amorous grace, followed by her slave-girl carrying a parcel, till she came to the young merchant’s shop and sitting down under pretext of seeking stuffs, saluted him with the salam and demanded of him somewhat of cloths. So he brought out to her various kinds and she took them and turned them over, talking with him the while. Then said she to him, “Look at the shapeliness of my shape and my semblance! Seest thou in me aught of default?” He replied, “No, O my lady;” and she continued, “Is it lawful in any one that he should slander me and say that I am humpbacked?” Then she discovered to him a part of her bosom, and when he saw her breasts his reason took flight from his head and his heart crave to her and he cried, “Cover it up,262 so may Allah veil thee!” Quoth she, “Is it fair of any one to decry my charms?” and quoth he, “How shall any decry thy charms, and thou the sun of loveliness?” Then said she, “Hath any the right to say of me that I am lophanded?” and tucking up her sleeves, she showed him forearms as they were crystal; after which she unveiled to him a face, as it were a full moon breaking forth on its fourteenth night, and said to him, “Is it lawful for any to decry me and declare that my face is pitted with smallpox or that I am one eyed or crop eared?” and said he, “O my lady, what is it moveth thee to discover unto me that lovely face and those fair limbs, wont to be so jealously veiled and guarded? Tell me the truth of the matter, may I be thy ransom!” And he began to improvise,263
“White Fair now drawn from sheath of parted hair,
Then in the blackest tresses hid from sight,
Flasheth like day irradiating Earth
While round her glooms the murk of nightliest night.”
— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say. Whereupon cried Dunyazad her sister, “O sister mine, how delectable is this tale and how desirable!” She replied, saying, “And where is this compared with that which I will recount to thee next night, Inshallah?”
Now when came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister Shahrazad, “O sister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, prithee finish thy tale which shall beguile our watching through the dark hours.” She replied:— With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the girl said to the young merchant, “Know, O my lord, that I am a maid oppressed of my sire, who speaketh at me and saith to me, Thou art loathly of looks and semblance and it besitteth not that thou wear rich raiment; for thou and the slave-girls are like in rank, there is no distinguishing thee from them. Now he is a richard, having a mighty great store of money and saith not thus save because he is a pinchpenny, and grudgeth the spending of a farthing; wherefore he is loath to marry me, lest he be put to somewhat of expense in my marriage, albeit Almighty Allah hath been bounteous to him and he is a man puissant in his time and lacking naught of worldly weal.” The youth asked, “Who is thy father and what is his condition?” and she answered, “He is the Chief Kazi of the well-known Supreme Court, under whose hands are all the Kazis who administer justice in this city.” The merchant believed her and she farewelled him and fared away, leaving in his heart a thousand regrets, for that the love of her had prevailed over him and he knew not how he should win to her; wherefore he woned enamoured, love-distracted, unknowing if he were alive or dead. As soon as she was gone, he shut up shop and walked straightway to the Court, where he went in to the Chief Kazi and saluted him. The magistrate returned his salam and treated him with distinction and seated him by his side. Then said Ala al-Din to him, “I come to thee seeking thine alliance and desiring the hand of thy noble daughter.” Quoth the Kazi, “O my lord merchant, welcome to thee and fair welcome; but indeed my daughter befitteth not the like of thee, neither beseemeth she the goodliness of thy youth and the pleasantness of thy compostition and the sweetness of thy speech;” but Ala al-Din replied, “This talk becometh thee not, neither is it seemly in thee; if I be content with her, how should this vex thee?” So the Kazi was satisfied and they came to an accord and concluded the marriage contract at a dower precedent of five purses264 ready money and a dower contingent of fifteen purses, so it might be hard for him to put her away, her father having given him fair warning, but he would not be warned. Then they wrote out the contract document and the merchant said, “I desire to go in to her this night.” Accordingly they carried her to him in procession that very evening, and he prayed the night prayer and entered the private chamber prepared for him; but, when he lifted the head gear from the bride’s head and the veil from her face and looked, he saw a foul face and a favour right fulsome; indeed he beheld somewhat whereof may Allah never show thee the like! loathly, dispensing from description, inasmuch as there were reckoned in her all legal defects.265 So he repented, when repentance availed him naught, and knew that the girl had cheated him. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say. Whereupon cried Dunyazad, her sister, “O sister mine, how delectable is thy story and how sweet!” She replied, saying, “And where is this compared with that which I will recount to thee next night an I be spared and suffered to live by the King, whom Almighty Allah preserve?”
Now whenas came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister Shahrazad, “O sister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, prithee finish thy story which shall beguile our watching through the dark hours, for indeed ‘tis a fine tale and a wondrous.” She replied:— With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O generous King, that the unhappy merchant carnally knew the loathly bride, sore against the grain, and abode that night troubled in mind, as he were in the prison of Al-Daylam.266 Hardly had the day dawned when he arose from her side and betaking himself to one of the Hammams, dozed there awhile, after which he made the Ghusl-ablution of ceremonial impurity267 and donned his every day dress. Then he went out to the coffee house and drank a cup of coffee; after which he returned to his shop and opening the door, sat down, with concern and chagrin manifest on his countenance. After an hour or so, his friends and intimates among the merchants and people of the market began to come up to him, by ones and twos; to give him joy, and said to him, laughing, “A blessing! a blessing! Where be the sweetmeats? Where be the coffee?268 ’Twould seem thou hast forgotten us; and nothing made thee oblivious save that the charms of the bride have disordered thy wit and taken thy reason, Allah help thee! We give thee joy, we give thee joy.” And they mocked at him whilst he kept silence before them, being like to rend his raiment and shed tears for rage. Then they went away from him, and when it was the hour of noon, up came his mistress, the crafty girl, trailing her skirts and swaying to and fro in her gait, as she were a branch of Ban in a garden of bloom. She was yet more richly dressed and adorned and more striking and cutting269 in her symmetry and grace than on the previous day, so that she made the passers stop and stand in espalier to gaze upon her. When she came to Ala al-Din’s shop, she sat down thereon and said to him, “Blessed be the day to thee, O my lord Ala al-Din! Allah prosper thee and be good to thee and perfect thy gladness and make it a wedding of weal and welfare!” He knitted his brows and frowned in answer to her; then asked her, “Wherein have I failed of thy due, or what have I done to harm thee, that thou shouldst requite me after this fashion?” She answered, “Thou hast been no wise in default; but ‘tis yonder inscription written on the door of thy shop that irketh me and vexeth my heart. An thou have the courage to change it and write up the contrary thereof, I will deliver thee from thine evil plight.” And he answered, “Thy requirement is right easy: on my head and eyes!” So saying, he brought out a sequin270 and summoning one of his Mamelukes said to him, “Get thee to Such-an-one the Scribe and bid him write us an epigraph, adorned with gold and lapis lazuli, in these words, “THERE BE NO CRAFT SAVE WOMEN’S CRAFT, FOR INDEED THEIR CRAFT IS A MIGHTY CRAFT271 AND OVERCOMETH AND HUMBLETH THE FALSES OF MEN.” And she said to the white slave “Fare thee forthright.” So he repaired to the Scribe, who wrote him the scroll, and he brought it to his master, who set it on the door and asked the damsel, “Is thy heart satisfied?” She answered, “Yes! Arise forthwith and get thee to the place before the citadel, where do thou foregather with all the mountebanks and ape-dancers and bear-leaders and drummers and pipers and bid them come to thee to-morrow early, with their kettle drums and flageolets, whilst thou art drinking coffee with thy father in law the Kazi, and congratulate thee and wish thee joy, saying, ‘A blessing, O son of our uncle! Indeed, thou art the vein272 of our eye! We rejoice for thee, and if thou be ashamed of us, verily we pride ourselves upon thee; so, although thou banish us from thee, know that we will not forsake thee, albeit thou forsake us.’ And do thou fall to throwing diners and dirhams amongst them; whereupon the Kazi will question thee, and do thou answer him, saying, My father was an ape-dancer and this is our original condition; but our Lord opened on us the gate of fortune and we have gotten us a name amongst the merchants and with their provost.’ Upon this he will say to thee, ‘Then thou art an ape-leader of the tribe of the mountebanks?’ and do thou rejoin, ‘I may in nowise deny my origin, for the sake of thy daughter and in her honour.’ The Kazi will say, ‘It may not be that thou shalt be given the daughter of a Shaykh who sitteth upon the carpet of the Law and whose descent is traceable by genealogy to the loins of the Apostle of Allah,273 nor is it meet that his daughter be in the power of a man who is an ape-dancer, a minstrel.’ Then do thou reply, ‘Nay, O Efendi, she is my lawful wife, and every hair of her is worth a thousand lives, and I will not put her away though I be given the kingship of the world.’ At last be thou persuaded to speak the word of divorce and so shall the marriage be voided and ye be saved each from other.” Quoth Ala al-Din, “Right is thy rede,” and locking up his shop, betook himself to the place — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say. Whereupon cried Dunyazad, her sister, “O sister mine, how goodly is thy story and how sweet!” She replied, saying, “And where is this compared with that which I will recount to thee next night, Inshallah!”
And whenas came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister, “O sister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, pray finish thy tale which shall beguile our watching through the dark hours.” She replied:— With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O generous King, that the young merchant betook himself to the place before the citadel, where he foregathered with the dancers, the drummers and pipers and instructed them how they should do, promising them a mighty fine reward. They received his word with “Hearing and obeying;” and he betook himself on the morrow, after the morning prayer, to the presence of the Judge, who received him with humble courtesy and seated him by his side. Then he addressed him and began questioning him of matters of selling and buying and of the price current of the various commodities which were carried to Baghdad from all quarters, whilst his son-in-law replied to all whereof he was questioned. As they were thus conversing, behold, up came the dancers and drummers with their drums and pipers with their pipes, whilst one of their number preceded them, with a long pennon-like banner in his hand, and played all manner antics with voice and limbs. When they came to the Court house, the Kazi cried, “I seek refuge with Allah from yonder Satans!” and the young merchant laughed but said naught. Then they entered and saluting his worship the Kazi, kissed Ala al-Din’s hands and said, “A blessing on thee, O son of our uncle! Indeed, thou coolest our eyes in whatso thou doest, and we beseech Allah for the enduring greatness of our lord the Kazi, who hath honoured us by admitting thee to his connection and hath allotted to us a portion in his high rank and degree.” When the Judge heard this talk, it bewildered his wit and he was dazed and his face flushed with rage, and quoth he to his son-in-law, “What words are these?” Quoth the merchant, “Knowest thou not, O my lord, that I am of this tribe? Indeed this man is the son of my maternal uncle and that other the son of my paternal uncle, and if I be reckoned of the merchants, ‘tis but by courtesy!” When the Kazi heard these words his colour changed — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, whereupon cried Dunyazad her sister, “O sister mine, how delectable is thy story and how desirable!” She replied, saying, “And where is its first compared with its last? But I will forthwith relate it to you an I be spared and suffered to live by the King, whom may Allah the Most High keep!” Quoth the King within himself, “By the Almighty, I will not slay her until I hear the end of her tale!”
Now whenas came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister, “O sister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, prithee finish thy tale which shall beguile our watching through the dark hours.” She replied:— With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O auspicious king, that the Kazi’s colour changed and he was troubled and waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and was like to burst for stress of rage. Then said he to the young merchant, “Allah forfend that this should last! How shall it be permitted that the daughter of the Kazi of the Moslems cohabit with a man of the dancers and vile of origin? By Allah, unless thou repudiate her forthright, I will bid beat thee and cast thee into prison and there confine thee till thou die. Had I foreknown that thou wast of them, I had not suffered thee near me, but had spat in thy face, for that thou art more ill-omened than a dog or a hog.”274 Then he kicked him down from his place and commanded him to divorce; but he said, “Be ruthful to me, O Efendi, for that Allah is ruthful, and hasten not: I will not divorce my wife, though thou give me the kingdom of Al-Irak.” The judge was perplexed and knew that compulsion was not permitted of Holy Law;275 so he bespake the young merchant fair and said to him, “Veil me,276 so may Allah veil thee. An thou divorce her not, this dishonour shall cleave to me till the end of time.” Then his fury gat the better of his wit and he cried, “An thou divorce her not of thine own will, I will forthright bid strike off thy head and slay myself; Hell-flame but not shame.”277 The merchant bethought himself awhile, then divorced her with a manifest divorce and a public278 and on this wise he won free from that unwelcome worry. Then he returned to his shop and presently sought in marriage of her father her who had done with him what she did279 and who was the daughter of the Shaykh of the guild of the blacksmiths. So he took her to wife and they abode each with other and lived the pleasantest of lives and the most delightsome, till the day of death: and praise be to Allah the Lord of the Three Worlds.
258 From the Calc. Edit. (1814–18), Nights cxcvi.-cc., vol. ii., pp. 367–378. The translation has been compared and collated with that of LanglPs (Paris, 1814), appended to his Edition of the Voyages of Sindbad. The story is exceedingly clever and well deserves translation.
259 It is regretable that this formula has not been preserved throughout The Nights: it affords, I have noticed, a pleasing break to the long course of narrative.
260 Arab. “Banát-al-hawá” lit. daughters of love, usually meaning an Anonyma, a fille de joie; but here the girl is of good repute, and the offensive term must be modified to a gay, frolicsome lass.
261 Arab. “Jabhat,” the lintel opposed to the threshold.
262 Arab. “Ghattí,” still the popular term said to a child showing its nakedness, or a lady of pleasure who insults a man by displaying any part of her person.
263 She is compared with a flashing blade (her face) now drawn from its sheath (her hair) then hidden by it.
264 The “Muajjalah” or money paid down before consummation was about £25; and the “Mu’ajjalah” or coin to be paid contingent on divorce was about £75. In the Calc. Edit ii. 371, both dowers are £35.
265 All the blemishes which justify returning a slave to the slave-dealer.
266 Media: see vol. ii. 94. The “Daylamite prison” was one of many in Baghdad.
267 See vol. v. 199. I may remark that the practice of bathing after copulation was kept up by both sexes in ancient Rome. The custom may have originated in days when human senses were more acute. I have seen an Arab horse object to be mounted by the master when the latter had not washed after sleeping with a woman.
268 On the morning after a happy night the bridegroom still offers coffee and Halwá to friends.
269 i.e. More bewitching.
270 Arab. “Sharífí” more usually Ashrafi, the Port. Xerafim, a gold coin = 6s.–7s.
271 The oft-repeated Koranic quotation.
272 Arab. “’Irk”: our phrase is “the apple of the eye.”
273 Meaning that he was a Sayyid or a Sharíf.
274 i.e. than a Jew or a Christian. So the Sultan, when appealed to by these religionists, who were as usual squabbling and fighting, answered, “What matter if the dog tear the hog or the hog tear the dog”?
275 The “Sharí’at” forbidding divorce by force.
276 i.e. protect my honour.
277 For this proverb see vol. v. 138. 1 have remarked that “Shame” is not a passion in Europe as in the East; the Western equivalent to the Arab. “Hayá’ ’would be the Latin “Pudor.”
278 Arab. “Talákan báinan,” here meaning a triple divorce before witnesses, making it irrevocable.
279 i.e. who had played him that trick.
There was one, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, a merchant of the merchants of Damascus, by name Abu al-Hasan, who had money and means, slave-blacks and slave-girls, lands and gardens, houses and Hammams in that city; but he was not blessed with boon of child and indeed his age waxed great. So he addressed himself to supplicate281 Allah Almighty in private and in public and in his bows and his prostrations and at the season of prayer-call, beseeching Him to vouchsafe him, before his decease, a son who should inherit his wealth and possessions. The Lord answered his prayer; his wife conceived and the days of her pregnancy were accomplished and her months and her nights; and the travail-pangs came upon her and she gave birth to a boy, as he were a slice of Luna. He had not his match for beauty and he put to shame the sun and the resplendent moon; for he had a beaming face and black eyes of Bábilí witchery282 and aquiline nose and carnelian lips; in fine, he was perfect of attributes, the loveliest of folk of his time, sans dubitation or gainsaying. His father joyed in him with exceeding joy and his heart was solaced and he was at last happy: he made banquets to the folk and he clad the poor and the widows. Presently he named the boy Sídí Nur al-Din Ali and reared him in fondness and delight among the hand-maids and thralls. When he had passed his seventh year, his father put him to school, where he learned the sublime Koran and the arts of writing and reckoning; and when he reached his tenth year, he was taught horsemanship and archery and to occupy himself with arts and sciences of all kinds, part and parts.283 He grew up pleasant and polite, winsome and lovesome; a ravishment to all who saw him, and he inclined to companying with brethren and comrades and mixing with merchants and travelled men. From these he heard tell of that which they had witnessed of the wonders of the cities in their wayfare and heard them say, “Whoso journeyeth not enjoyeth naught;284 especially of the city of Baghdad.” So he was concerned with exceeding concern for his lack of travel and disclosed this to his sire, who said to him, “O my son, why do I see thee chagrined?” Quoth he, “I would fain travel;” and quoth Abu al-Hasan, “O my son, none travelleth save those whose need is urgent and those who are compelled thereto by want. As for thee, O my son, thou enjoyest ample means; so do thou content thyself with that which Allah hath given thee and be bounteous to others, even as He hath been bountiful to thee; and afflict not thyself with the toil and tribulation of travel, for indeed it is said that travel is a piece of Hell-torment.”285 But the youth said, “Needs must I journey to Baghdad, the House of Peace.” When his father saw the strength of his resolve to travel he fell in with his wishes and fitted him out with five thousand dinars in cash and the like in merchandise and sent with him two serving-men. So the youth fared forth, on the blessing of Allah Almighty;286 and his parent went out with him, to take leave of him, and returned to Damascus. As for Nur al-Din Ali, he ceased not travelling days and nights till he entered Baghdad city, and laying up his loads in the Wakálah,287 made for the Hammam-bath, where he did away that which was upon him of the soil of the road and doffing his travelling clothes, donned a costly suit of Yamaní stuff, worth an hundred dinars. Then he loaded his sleeve with a thousand miskals of gold and sallied forth a-walking and swaying gracefully as he paced along. His gait confounded all those who gazed upon him, as he shamed the branches with his shape and belittled the rose with the redness of his cheeks and his black eyes of Babilí witchcraft: thou wouldst deem that whoso looked on him would surely be preserved from bane and bale;288 for he was even as saith of him one of his describers in these couplets:—
“Thy haters and enviers say for jeer
A true say that profits what ears will hear;
‘No boast is his whom the gear adorns;
The boast be his who adorns the gear!’”
So Sidi Nur al-Din went walking in the highways of the city and viewing its edifices and its bazars and thoroughfares and gazing on its folk. Presently, Abú Nowás met him. (Now he was of those of whom it is said, “They love fair lads,” and indeed there is said what is said concerning him.)289 When he saw Nur al-Din Ali, he stared at him in amazement and exclaimed, “Say, I take refuge with the Lord of the Daybreak!” Then he accosted the youth and saluting him, asked him, “Why do I see my lord lone and lorn? Meseemeth thou art a stranger and knowest not this country; so, with leave of my lord, I will put myself at his service and acquaint him with the streets, for that I know this city.” Nur al-Din answered, “This will be of thy favour, O nuncle.” Abu Nowas rejoiced at this and fared on with him, showing him the streets and bazars, till they came to the house of a slave-dealer, where he stopped and said to the youth, “From what city art thou?” “From Damascus,” replied Nur al-Din; and Abu Nowas said, “By Allah, thou art from a blessed city, even as saith of it the poet in these couplets,
‘Now is Damascus a garth adorned
For her seekers, the Houris and Paradise-boys.’”
Sidi Nur al-Din thanked him and the twain entered the mansion of the slave-merchant. When the people of the house saw Abu Nowas, they rose to do him reverence, for that which they knew of his rank with the Commander of the Faithful; and the slave-dealer himself came up to them with two chairs whereon they seated themselves. Then the slave-merchant went inside and returning with a slave-girl, as she were a branch of Ban or a rattan-cane, clad in a vest of damask silk and tired with a black and white headdress whose ends fell down over her face, seated her on a chair of ebony; after which he cried to those who were present, “I will discover to you a favour as it were a full moon breaking forth from under a cloud-bank.” They replied, “Do so;” whereupon he unveiled the damsel’s face and behold, she was like the shining sun, with shapely shape and dawn-bright cheeks and thready waist and heavy hips; brief, she was endowed with an elegance, whose description is unfound, and was even as saith of her the poet,290
“A fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show,
They’d leave their idols and her face for only Lord would know;
And if into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit,
Assuredly the salt sea’s floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.”
The dealer stood at the hand-maid’s head and one of the merchants said, “I bid a thousand dinars for her.” Quoth another, “I bid one thousand one hundred dinars;” and a third, “I bid twelve hundred.” Then said a fourth merchant, “Be she mine for fourteen hundred ducats.” And the biddings standing still at that sum, her owner said, “I will not sell her save with her consent: an if she desire to be sold, I will sell her to whom she willeth.” The slave-dealer asked him, “What is her name?” Answered the other, “Her name is Sitt al-Miláh;”291 whereupon the dealer said to her, “With thy leave, I will sell thee to yonder merchant for this price of fourteen hundred dinars.” Quoth she, “Come hither to me.” So the man-vendor came up to her and when he drew near, gave him a kick with her foot and cast him to the ground, saying, “I will not have that oldster.” The slave-dealer arose, shaking the dust from his dress and head, and cried, “Who biddeth more of us? Who is desirous?”292 Said one of the merchants, “I,” and the dealer said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, shall I sell thee to this merchant?” She replied, “Come hither to me;” but he rejoined, “Nay; speak and I will hear thee from my place, for I will not trust myself to thee nor hold myself safe when near thee.” So she cried, “Indeed I will not have him.” Then the slave-dealer looked at her and seeing her fix eyes on the young Damascene, for that in very deed he had fascinated her with his beauty and loveliness, went up to him and said to him, “O my lord, art thou a looker-on or a buyer? Tell me.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “I am both looker-on and buyer. Wilt thou sell me yonder slave-girl for sixteen hundred ducats?” And he pulled out the purse of gold. Hereupon the dealer returned, dancing and clapping his hands and saying, “So be it, so be it, or not at all!” Then he came to the damsel and said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, shall I sell thee to yonder young Damascene for sixteen hundred dinars?” But she answered, “No,” of bashfulness before her master and the bystanders; whereupon the people of the bazar and the slave-merchant departed, and Abu Nowas and Ali Nur al-Din arose and went each his own way, whilst the damsel returned to her owner’s house, full of love for the young Damascene. When the night darkened on her, she called him to mind and her heart hung to him and sleep visited her not; and on this wise she abode days and nights, till she sickened and abstained from food. So her lord went in to her and asked her, “O Sitt al-Milah, how findest thou thyself?” Answered she, “O my lord, dead without chance of deliverance and I beseech thee to bring me my shroud, so I may look upon it ere I die.” Therewith he went out from her, sore concerned for her, and betaking himself to the bazar, found a friend of his, a draper, who had been present on the day when the damsel was cried for sale. Quoth his friend to him, “Why do I see thee troubled?” and quoth he, “Sitt al-Milah is at the point of death and for three days she hath neither eaten nor drunken. I questioned her to-day of her case and she said, ‘O my lord, buy me a shroud so I may look upon it ere I die.’” The draper replied, “Methinks naught aileth her but that she is in love with the young Damascene, and I counsel thee to mention his name to her and declare to her that he hath foregathered with thee on her account and is desirous of coming to thy quarters, so he may hear somewhat of her singing. An she say, ‘I reck not of him, for there is that to do with me which distracteth me from the Damascene and from other than he,’ know that she saith sooth concerning her sickness; but, an she say thee other than this, acquaint me therewith.” So the man returned to his lodging and going in to his slave-girl said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, I went out for thy need and there met me the young man of Damascus, and he saluted me with the salam and saluteth thee; he seeketh to win thy favour and prayed me to admit him as a guest in our dwelling, so thou mayst let him hear somewhat of thy singing.” When she heard speak of the young Damascene, she gave a sob, that her soul was like to leave her body, and answered, “He knoweth my plight and how these three days past I have not eaten nor drunken, and I beseech thee, O my lord, by Allah of All-Might, to do thy duty by the stranger and bring him to my lodging and make excuse to him for me.” When her master heard this, his reason fled for joy, and he went to his familiar the draper and said to him, “Thou wast right in the matter of the damsel, for that she is in love with the young Damascene; so how shall I manage?” Said the other, “Go to the bazar and when thou seest him, salute him, and say to him, ‘Thy departure the other day, without winning thy wish, was grievous to me; so, an thou be still minded to buy the maid, I will abate thee of that which thou badest for her an hundred sequins by way of gaining thy favour; seeing thou be a stranger in our land.’ If he say to thee, ‘I have no desire for her,’ and hold off from thee, be assured that he will not buy; in which case, let me know, so I may devise thee another device; and if he say to thee other than this, conceal not from me aught.” So the girl’s owner betook himself to the bazar, where he found the youth seated at the upper end of the place where the merchants mostly do meet, selling and buying and taking and giving, as he were the moon on the night of its full, and saluted him. The young man returned his salam and he said to him, “O my lord, be not offended at the damsel’s speech the other day, for her price shall be lowered to the intent that I may secure thy favour. An thou desire her for naught, I will send her to thee or an thou wouldst have me abate to thee her price, I will well, for I desire nothing save what shall content thee; seeing thou art a stranger in our land and it behoveth us to treat thee hospitably and have consideration for thee.” The youth replied, “By Allah, I will not take her from thee but at an advance on that which I bade thee for her afore; so wilt thou now sell her to me for one thousand and seven hundred dinars?” And the other rejoined, “O my lord, I sell her to thee, may Allah bless thee in her!” Thereupon the young man went to his quarters and fetching a purse, sent for the girl’s owner and weighed out to him the price aforesaid, whilst the draper was between the twain. Then said he, “Bring her forth;” but the other replied, “She cannot come forth at this present; but be thou my guest the rest of this day and night, and on the morrow thou shalt take thy slave-girl and go in the ward of Allah.” The youth agreed with him on this and he carried him to his house, where, after a little, he bade meat and wine be brought, and they ate and drank. Then said Nur al-Din to the girl’s owner, “I would have thee bring me the damsel, because I bought her not but for the like of this time.” So he arose and going in to the girl, said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, the young man hath paid down thy price and we have bidden him hither; so he hath come to our quarters and we have entertained him, and he would fain have thee be present with him.” Therewith the damsel rose deftly and doffing her dress, bathed and donned sumptuous apparel and perfumed herself and went out to him, as she were a branch of Ban or a cane of rattan, followed by a black slave-girl, bearing the lute. When she came to the young man, she saluted him and sat down by his side. Then she took the lute from the slave-girl and screwing up its pegs,293 smote thereon in four-and-twenty modes, after which she returned to the first and sang these couplets,
“My joy in this world is to see and sit near thee.
Thy love’s my religion; thy Union my pleasure.
Attest it these tears when in memory I speer thee,
And unchecked down my cheeks pours the flood without measure.
By Allah, no rival in love hast to fear thee;
I’m thy slave as I sware, and this troth is my treasure.
Be not this our last meeting: by Allah I swear thee
Thy severance to me were most bitter displeasure!”
The young man was moved to delight and cried, “By Allah, thou sayest well, O Sitt al-Milah! Let me hear more.” Then he largessed her with fifty gold pieces and they drank and the cups made circuit among them; and her seller said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, this is the season of farewelling; so let us hear somewhat thereon.” Accordingly she struck the lute and touching upon that which was in her heart, improvised these couplets,
“I thole longing, remembrance and sad repine,
Nor my heart can brook woes in so lengthened line.
O my lords think not I forget your love;
My case is sure case and cure shows no sign.
If creature could swim in the flood of his tears,
I were first to swim in these floods of brine:
O Cup-boy withhold cup and bowl from a wretch
Who ne’er ceaseth to drink of her tears for wine!
Had I known that parting would do me die,
I had shirked to part, but —’twas Fate’s design.”
Now whilst they were thus enjoying whatso is most delicious of ease and delight, and indeed the wine was to them sweet and the talk a treat, behold, there came a knocking at the door. So the house-master went out, that he might see what might be the matter, and found ten head of the Caliph’s eunuchs at the entrance. When he saw this, he was startled and said, “What is to do?” “The Commander of the Faithful saluteth thee and requireth of thee the slave-girl whom thou hast exposed for sale and whose name is Sitt al-Milah.” “By Allah, I have sold her.” “Swear by the head of the Commander of the Faithful that she is not in thy quarters.” The slaver made oath that he had sold her and that she was no longer at his disposal: yet they paid no heed to his word and forcing their way into the house, found the damsel and the young Damascene in the sitting-chamber. So they laid hands upon her, and the youth said, “This is my slave-girl, whom I have bought with my money;” but they hearkened not to his speech and taking her, carried her off to the Prince of True Believers. Therewith Nur al-Din’s pleasure was troubled: he arose and donned his dress, and his host said, “Whither away this night, O my lord?” Said he, “I purpose going to my quarters, and tomorrow I will betake myself to the palace of the Commander of the Faithful and demand my slave-girl.” The other replied, “Sleep till the morning, and fare not forth at the like of this hour.” But he rejoined, “Needs must I go;” and the host said to him, “Go in Allah his safeguard.” So the youth went forth and, drunkenness having got the mastery of his wits, he threw himself down on a bench before one of the shops. Now the watchmen were at that hour making their rounds and they smelt the sweet scent of essences and wine that reeked from him; so they made for it and suddenly beheld the youth lying on the bench, without sign of recovering. They poured water upon him, and he awoke, whereupon they carried him off to the office of the Chief of Police and he questioned him of his case. He replied “O my lord, I am an alien in this town and have been with one of my friends: I came forth from his house and drunkenness overcame me.” The Wali bade carry him to his lodging; but one of those in attendance upon him, Al-Murádi hight, said to him, “What wilt thou do? This man is robed in rich raiment and on his finger is a golden ring, whose bezel is a ruby of great price; so we will carry him away and slay him and take that which is upon him of clothes and bring to thee all we get; for that thou wilt not often see profit the like thereof, especially as this fellow is a foreigner and there is none to ask after him.”294 Quoth the Chief, “This wight is a thief and that which he saith is leasing.” Nur al-Din said, “Allah forfend that I should be a thief!” but the Wali answered, “Thou liest.” So they stripped him of his clothes and taking the seal-ring from his finger, beat him with a grievous beating, what while he cried out for succour, but none succoured him, and besought protection, but none protected him. Then said he to them, “O folk, ye are quit295 of that which ye have taken from me; but now restore me to my lodging.” They replied, “Leave this knavery, O rascal! thine intent is to sue us for thy clothes on the morrow.” The youth cried, “By the truth of the One, the Eternal One, I will not sue any for them!” but they said, “We find no way to this.” And the Prefect bade them bear him to the Tigris and there slay him and cast him into the stream. So they dragged him away, while he wept and said the words which shall nowise shame the sayer: “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” When they came to the Tigris, one of them drew the sword upon him and Al-Muradi said to the sworder, “Smite off his head;” but one of them, hight Ahmad, cried, “O folk, deal softly with this poor wretch and slay him not unjustly and wickedly, for I stand in fear of Allah Almighty, lest He burn me with his fire.” Quoth Al-Muradi, “A truce to this talk!” and quoth the Ahmad aforesaid, “An ye do with him aught, I will acquaint the Commander of the Faithful.” They asked, “How, then, shall we do with him?” and he answered, “Let us deposit him in prison and I will be answerable to you for his provision; so shall we be quit of his blood, for indeed he is a wronged man.” Accordingly they agreed to this and taking him up cast him into the Prison of Blood,296 and then went their ways. So far as regards them; but returning to the damsel, they carried her to the Commander of the Faithful and she pleased him; so he assigned her a chamber of the chambers of choice. She tarried in the palace, neither eating nor drinking, and weeping sans surcease night and day, till, one night, the Caliph sent for her to his sitting-hall and said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool of tear, for I will make thy rank higher than any of the concubines and thou shalt see that which shall rejoice thee.” She kissed ground and wept; whereupon the Prince of True Believers called for her lute and bade her sing: so in accordance with that which was in her heart, she sang these improvised couplets,
“By the sheen of thy soul and the sheen of thy smile,297
Say, moan’st thou for doubt or is’t ring-dove’s moan?
How many have died who by love were slain!
Fails my patience but blaming my blamers wone.”
Now when she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her hand and wept till she fainted away, whereupon the Caliph bade carry her to her chamber. But he was fascinated by her and loved her with exceeding love; so, after a while, he again commanded to bring her in to the presence, and when she came, he ordered her to sing. Accordingly, she took the lute and chanted to it that which was in her heart and improvised these couplets,
“Have I patience and strength to support this despair?
Ah, how couldst thou purpose afar to fare?
Thou art swayed by the spy to my cark and care:
No marvel an branchlet sway here and there!298
With unbearable load thou wouldst load me, still
Thou loadest with love which I theewards bear.”
Then she cast the lute from her hand and fainted away; so she was carried to her sleeping-chamber and indeed passion grew upon her. After along while the Prince of True Believers sent for her a third time and commanded her to sing. So she took the lute and chanted these couplets,
“O of piebald wild ye dunes sandy and drear,
Shall the teenful lover ‘scape teen and tear?
Shall ye see me joined with a lover, who
Still flies or shall meet we in joyful cheer?
O hail to the fawn with the Houri eye,
Like sun or moon on horizon clear!
He saith to lovers, ‘What look ye on?’
And to stony hearts, ‘Say, what love ye dear?’299
I pray to Him who departed us
With severance-doom, ‘Be our union near!’”
When she had made an end of her verse, the Commander of the Faithful said to her, “O damsel, thou art in love.” She replied, “Yes;” and he asked, “With whom?” Answered she, “With my lord and sovran of my tenderness, for whom my love is as the love of the earth for rain, or as the desire of the female for the male; and indeed the love of him is mingled with my flesh and my blood and hath entered into the channels of my bones. O Prince of True Believers, whenever I call him to mind my vitals are consumed, for that I have not yet won my wish of him, and but that I fear to die, without seeing him, I had assuredly slain myself.” Thereupon quoth he, “Art thou in my presence and durst bespeak me with the like of these words? Forsure I will gar thee forget thy lord.” Then he bade take her away; so she was carried to her pavilion and he sent her a concubine, with a casket wherein were three thousand ducats and a collar of gold set with seed-pearls and great unions, and jewels, worth other three thousand, saying to her, “The slave-girl and that which is with her are a gift from me to thee.” When she heard this, she cried, “Allah forfend that I be consoled for the love of my lord and my master, though with an earth-full of gold!” And she improvised and recited these couplets,
“By his life I swear, by his life I pray;
For him fire I’d enter unful dismay!
‘Console thee (cry they) with another fere
Thou lovest!’ and I, ‘By ’s life, nay, NAY!’
He’s moon whom beauty and grace array;
From whose cheeks and brow shineth light of day.”
Then the Commander of the Faithful summoned her to his presence a fourth time and said, “O Sitt al-Milah, sing.” So she recited and sang these couplets,
“The lover’s heart by his beloved is oft disheartenPd
And by the hand of sickness eke his sprite dispiritPd,
One asked, ‘What is the taste of love?”300 and I to him replied,
‘Love is a sweet at first but oft in fine unsweetened.’
I am the thrall of Love who keeps the troth of love to them301
But oft they proved themselves ‘Urkúb302 in pact with me they made.
What in their camp remains? They bound their loads and fared away;
To other feres the veilPd Fairs in curtained litters sped;
At every station the beloved showed all of Joseph’s charms:
The lover wone with Jacob’s woe in every shift of stead.”
When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her hand and wept herself a-swoon. So they sprinkled on her musk-mingled rose-water and willow-flower water; and when she came to her senses, Al-Rashid said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, this is not just dealing in thee. We love thee and thou lovest another.” She replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, there is no help for it.” Thereupon he was wroth with her and cried, “By the virtue of Hamzah303 and ‘Akíl304 and Mohammed, Prince of the Apostles, an thou name in my presence one other than I, I will assuredly order strike off thy head!” Then he bade return her to her chamber, whilst she wept and recited these couplets,
‘Oh brave!’ I’d cry an I my death could view;
My death were better than these griefs to rue,
Did sabre hew me limb by limb; this were
Naught to affright a lover leal-true.”
Then the Caliph went in to the Lady Zubaydah, complexion-altered with anger, and she noted this in him and said to him, “How cometh it that I see the Commander of the Faithful changed of colour?” He replied, “O daughter of my uncle, I have a beautiful slave-girl, who reciteth verses by rote and telleth various tales, and she hath taken my whole heart; but she loveth other than myself and declareth that she affecteth her former lord; so I have sworn a great oath that, if she come again to my sitting- hall and sing for other than for me, I will assuredly shorten her highest part by a span.”305 Quoth Zubaydah, “Let the Commander of the Faithful favour me by presenting her, so I may look on her and hear her singing.” Accordingly he bade fetch her and she came, upon which the Lady Zubaydah withdrew behind the curtain,306 where the damsel saw her not, and Al-Rashid said to her, “Sing to us.” So she took the lute and tuning it, recited these couplets,
“O my lord! since the day when I lost your sight,
My life was ungladdened, my heart full of teen;
The memory of you kills me every night;
And by all the worlds is my trace unseen;
All for love of a Fawn who hath snared my sprite
By his love and his brow as the morning sheen.
Like a left hand parted from brother right
I became by parting thro’ Fortune’s spleen.
On the brow of him Beauty deigned indite
‘Blest be Allah, whom best of Creators I ween!’
And Him I pray, who could disunite
To re-unite us. Then cry ‘Ameen!’”307
When Al-Rashid heard the end of this, he waxed exceeding wroth and said, “May Allah not reunite you twain in gladness!” Then he summoned the headsman, and when he presented himself, he said to him, “Strike off the head of this accursed slavegirl.” So Masrur took her by the hand and led her away; but, when she came to the door, she turned and said to the Caliph, “O Commander of the Faithful, I conjure thee, by thy fathers and forefathers, behead me not until thou give ear to that I shall say!” Then she improvised and recited these couplets,
“Emir of Justice, be to lieges kind
For Justice ever guides thy generous mind;
And, oh, who blamest love to him inclining!
Are lovers blamed for lâches undesigned?
By Him who gave thee rule, deign spare my life
For rule on earth He hath to thee assigned.”
Then Masrur carried her to the other end of the sitting-hall and bound her eyes and making her sit, stood awaiting a second order: whereupon quoth the Lady Zubaydah, “O Prince of True Believers, with thy permission, wilt thou not vouchsafe this damsel a portion of thy clemency? An thou slay her, ’twere injustice.” Quoth he, “What is to be done with her?” and quoth she, “Forbear to slay her and send for her lord. If he be as she describeth him in beauty and loveliness, she is excused, and if he be not on this wise then kill her, and this shall be thy plea aainst her.”308 Al-Rashid replied, “No harm in this rede;” and caused return the damsel to her chamber, saying to her, “The Lady Zubaydah saith thus and thus.” She rejoined, “God requite her for me with good! Indeed, thou dealest equitably, O Commander of the Faithful, in this judgment.” And he retorted, “Go now to thy place, and tomorrow we will bid them bring thy lord.” So she kissed ground and recited these couplets,
“I indeed will well for whom love I will:
Let chider chide and let blamer blame:
All lives must die at fixt tide and term
But I must die ere my life-term came:
Then Oh whose love hath afflicted me
Well I will but thy presence in haste I claim.”
Then she arose and returned to her chamber. Now on the morrow, the Commander of the Faithful sat in his hall of audience and his Wazir Ja’afar bin Yahya the Barmecide came in to him; whereupon he called to him, saying, “I would have thee bring me a youth who is lately come to Baghdad, hight Sidi Nur al-Din Ali the Damascene.” Quoth Ja’afar, “Hearing and obeying,” and going forth in quest of the youth, sent to the bazars and Wakalahs and Khans for three successive days, but discovered no trace of him, neither happened upon the place of him. So on the fourth day he presented himself before the Caliph and said to him, “O our lord, I have sought him these three days, but have not found him.” Said Al-Rashid, “Make ready letters to Damascus. Peradventure he hath returned to his own land.” Accordingly Ja’afar wrote a letter and despatched it by a dromedary-courier to the Damascus-city; and they sought him there and found him not. Meanwhile, news was brought that Khorasan had been conquered;309 whereupon Al-Rashid rejoiced and bade decorate Baghdad and release all in the gaol, giving each of them a ducat and a dress. So Ja’afar applied himself to the adornment of the city and bade his brother Al-Fazl ride to the prison and robe and set free the prisoners. Al-Fazl did as his brother commanded and released all save the young Damascene, who abode still in the Prison of Blood, saying, “There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily, we are God’s and to Him are we returning.” Then quoth Al-Fazl to the gaoler, “Is there any left in the prison?” Quoth he, “No,” and Al-Fazl was about to depart, when Nur al-Din called out to him from within the prison, saying, “O our lord, tarry awhile, for there remaineth none in the prison other than I and indeed I am wronged. This is a day of pardon and there is no disputing concerning it.” Al-Fazl bade release him; so they set him free and he gave him a dress and a ducat. Thereupon the young man went out, bewildered and unknowing whither he should wend, for that he had sojourned in the gaol a year or so and indeed his condition was changed and his favour fouled, and he abode walking and turning round, lest Al-Muradi come upon him and cast him into another calamity. When Al-Muradi learnt his release, he betook himself to the Wali and said, “O our lord, we are not assured of our lives from that youth, because he hath been freed from prison and we fear lest he complain of us.” Quoth the Chief, “How shall we do?” and quoth Al-Muradi, “I will cast him into a calamity for thee.” Then he ceased not to follow the Damascene from place to place till he came up with him in a narrow stead and cul-de-sac; whereupon he accosted him and casting a cord about his neck, cried out, “A thief!” The folk flocked to him from all sides and fell to beating and abusing Nur al-Din,310 whilst he cried out for aidance but none aided him, and Al-Muradi kept saying to him, “But yesterday the Commander of the Faithful released thee and to-day thou robbest!” So the hearts of the mob were hardened against him and again Al-Muradi carried him to the Chief of Police, who bade hew off his hand. Accordingly, the hangman took him and bringing out the knife, proceeded to cut off his hand, while Al-Muradi said to him, “Cut and sever the bone and fry311 not in oil the stump for him, so he may lose all his blood and we be at rest from him.” But Ahmad, he who had before been the cause of his deliverance, sprang up to him and cried, “O folk, fear Allah in your action with this youth, for that I know his affair, first and last, and he is clear of offence and guiltless: he is of the lords of houses,312 and unless ye desist from him, I will go up to the Commander of the Faithful and acquaint him with the case from beginning to end and that the youth is innocent of sin or crime.” Quoth Al-Muradi, “Indeed, we are not assured from his mischief;” and quoth Ahmad, “Set him free and commit him to me and I will warrant you against his doings, for ye shall never see him again after this.” So they delivered Nur al-Din to him and he took him from their hands and said to him, “O youth, have ruth on thyself, for indeed thou hast fallen into the hands of these folk twice and if they prevail over thee a third time, they will make an end of thee; and I in doing thus with thee, aim at reward for thee and recompense in Heaven and answer of prayer.”313 So Nur al-Din fell to kissing his hand and blessing him said, “Know that I am a stranger in this your city and the completion of kindness is better than its commencement; wherefore I pray thee of thy favour that thou make perfect to me thy good offices and generosity and bring me to the city-gate. So will thy beneficence be accomplished unto me and may God Almighty requite thee for me with good!” Ahmad replied, “No harm shall betide thee: go; I will bear thee company till thou come to thy place of safety.” And he left him not till he brought him to the city-gate and said to him, “O youth, go in Allah’s guard and return not to the city, for, an they fall in with thee again, they will make an end of thee.” Nur al-Din kissed his hand and going forth the city, gave not over walking, till he came to a mosque that stood in one of the suburbs of Baghdad and entered therein with the night. Now he had with him naught wherewith he might cover himself; so he wrapped himself up in one of the mats of the mosque and thus abode till dawn, when the Muezzins came and finding him seated in such case, said to him, “O youth, what is this plight?” Said he, “I cast myself on your protection, imploring this defence from a company of folk who seek to slay me unjustly and wrongously, without cause.” And one of the Muezzins said, “I will protect thee; so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool of tear.” Then he brought him old clothes and covered him therewith; he also set before him somewhat of victual and seeing upon him signs of fine breeding, said to him, “O my son, I grow old and desiring help from thee, I will do away thy necessity.” Nur al-Din replied, “To hear is to obey;” and abode with the old man, who rested and took his ease, while the youth did his service in the mosque, celebrating the praises of Allah and calling the Faithful to prayer and lighting the lamps and filling the spout-pots314 and sweeping and cleaning out the place of worship. On this-wise it befel the young Damascene; but as regards Sitt al-Milah, the Lady Zubaydah, the wife of the Commander of the Faithful, made a banquet in her palace and assembled her slave-girls. And the damsel came, weeping-eyed and heavy-hearted, and those present blamed her for this, whereupon she recited these couplets,
“Ye blame the mourner who weeps his woe;
Needs must the mourner sing, weeping sore;
An I see not some happy day I’ll weep
Brine-tears till followed by gouts of gore.”
When she had made an end of her verses, the Lady Zubaydah bade each damsel sing a song, till the turn came round to Sitt al-Milah, whereupon she took the lute and tuning it, carolled thereto four-and-twenty carols in four-and-twenty modes; then she returned to the first and sang these couplets,
“The World hath shot me with all her shafts
Departing friends parting-grief t’ aby:
So in heart the burn of all hearts I bear
And in eyes the tear-drops of every eye.”
When she had made an end of her song, she wept till she garred the bystanders weep and the Lady Zubaydah condoled with her and said to her, “Allah upon thee, O Sitt al-Milah, sing us some, what, so we may hearken to thee.” The damsel replied, “Hearing and obeying,” and sang these couplets,
“People of passion, assemble ye!
This day be the day of our agony:
The Raven o’ severance croaks at our doors;
Our raven which nigh to us aye see we.
The friends we love have appointed us
The grievousest parting-dule to dree.
Rise, by your lives, and let all at once
Fare to seek our friends where their sight we see.”
Then she threw the lute from her hand and shed tears till she drew tears from the Lady Zubaydah who said to her, “O Sitt al-Milah, he whom thou lovest methinks is not in this world, for the Commander of the Faithful hath sought him in every place, but hath not found him.” Whereupon the damsel arose and kissing the Princess’s hands, said to her, “O my lady, an thou wouldst have him found, I have this night a request to make whereby thou mayst win my need with the Caliph.” Quoth the Lady, “And what is it?” and quoth Sitt al-Milah, “’Tis that thou get me leave to fare forth by myself and go round about in quest of him three days, for the adage saith, Whoso keeneth for herself is not like whoso is hired to keen!315 An if I find him, I will bring him before the Commander of the Faithful, so he may do with us what he will, and if I find him not, I shall be cut off from hope of him and the heat of that which is with me will be cooled.” Quoth the Lady Zubaydah, “I will not get thee leave from him but for a whole month; so be of good cheer and eyes cool and clear.” Whereat Sitt al-Milah rejoiced and rising, kissed ground before her once more and went away to her own place, and right glad was she. As for Zubaydah, she went in to the Caliph and talked with him awhile; then she fell to kissing him between the eyes and on his hands and asked him for that which she had promised to Sitt al-Milah, saying, “O Commander of the Faithful, I doubt me her lord is not found in this world; but, an she go about seeking him and find him not, her hopes will be cut off and her mind will be set at rest and she will sport and laugh; and indeed while she nourisheth hope, she will never take the right direction.” And she ceased not cajoling him till he gave Sitt al-Milah leave to fare forth and make search for her lord a month’s space and ordered a riding-mule and an eunuch to attend her and bade the privy purse give her all she needed, were it a thousand dirhams a day or even more. So the Lady Zubaydah arose and returning to her palace bade summon Sitt al-Milah and, as soon as she came, acquainted her with that which had passed; whereupon she kissed her hand and thanked her and called down blessings on her. Then she took leave of the Princess and veiling her face with a mask,316 disguised herself;317 after which she mounted the she-mule and sallying forth, went round about seeking her lord in the highways of Baghdad three days’ space, but happed on no tidings of him; and on the fourth day, she rode forth without the city. Now it was the noon-hour and fierce was the heat, and she was aweary and thirst came upon her. Presently, she reached the mosque of the Shaykh who had lodged the young Damascene, and dismounting at the door, said to the old Muezzin, “O Shaykh, hast thou a draught of cold water? Verily, I am overcome with heat and thirst.” Said he, “’Tis with me in my house.” So he carried her up into his lodging and spreading her a carpet, seated her; after which he brought her cold water and she drank and said to her eunuch, “Go thy ways with the mule and to-morrow come back to me here.” Accordingly he went away and she slept and rested herself. When she awoke, she asked the old man, “O Shaykh, hast thou aught of food?” and he answered, “O my lady, I have bread and olives.” Quoth she, “That be food which befitteth only the like of thee. As for me, I will have naught save roast lamb and soups and reddened fowls right fat and ducks farcis with all manner stuffing of pistachio-nuts and sugar.” Quoth the Muezzin, “O my lady, I have never heard of this chapter318 in the Koran, nor was it revealed to our lord Mohammed, whom Allah save and assain!”319 She laughed and said, “O Shaykh, the matter is even as thou sayest; but bring me pen-case and paper.” So he brought her what she sought and she wrote a note and gave it to him, together with a seal-ring from her finger, saying, “Go into the city and enquire for Such-an-one the Shroff and give him this my note.” Accordingly the oldster betook himself to the city, as she bade him, and asked for the money-changer, to whom they directed him. So he gave him ring and writ, seeing which, he kissed the letter and breaking it open, read it and apprehended its contents. Then he repaired to the bazar and buying all that she bade him, laid it in a porter’s crate and made him go with the Shaykh. The old man took the Hammál and went with him to the mosque, where he relieved him of his burden and carried the rich viands in to Sitt al-Milah. She seated him by her side and they ate, he and she, of those dainty cates, till they were satisfied, when the Shaykh rose and removed the food from before her. She passed that night in his lodging and when she got up in the morning, she said to him, “O elder, may I not lack thy kind offices for the breakfast! Go to the Shroff and fetch me from him the like of yesterday’s food.” So he arose and betaking himself to the money-changer, acquainted him with that which she had bidden him. The Shroff brought him all she required and set it on the heads of Hammals; and the Shaykh took them and returned with them to the damsel, when she sat down with him and they ate their sufficiency, after which he removed the rest of the meats. Then she took the fruits and the flowers and setting them over against herself, wrought them into rings and knots and writs, whilst the Shaykh looked on at a thing whose like he had never in his life seen and rejoiced in the sight. Presently said she to him “O elder, I would fain drink.” So he arose and brought her a gugglet of water; but she cried to him, “Who said to thee, Fetch that?” Quoth he, “Saidst thou not to me, I would fain drink?” and quoth she, “‘I want not this; nay, I want wine, the solace of the soul, so haply, O Shaykh, I may refresh myself therewith.” Exclaimed the old man, “Allah forfend that strong drink be drunk in my house, and I a stranger in the land and a Muezzin and an Imam, who leadeth the True Believers in prayer, and a servant of the House of the Lord of the three Worlds!” “Why wilt thou forbid me to drink thereof in thy house?” “Because ’tis unlawful.” “O elder, Allah hath forbidden only the eating of blood and carrion320 and hog’s flesh: tell me, are grapes and honey lawful or unlawful?” “They are lawful.” “This is the juice of grapes and the water of honey.” “Leave this thy talk, for thou shalt never drink wine in my house.” “O Shaykh, people eat and drink and enjoy themselves and we are of the number of the folk and Allah is indulgent and merciful.”321 “This is a thing that may not be.” “Hast thou not heard what the poet saith?” And she recited these couplets,
“Cease thou to hear, O Sim’án-son,322 aught save the say of me;
How bitter ’twas to quit the monks and fly the monast’ry!
When, on the FLte of Palms there stood, amid the hallowed fane,323
A pretty Fawn whose lovely pride garred me sore wrong to dree.
May Allah bless the night we spent when he to us was third,
While Moslem, Jew, and Nazarene all sported fain and free.
Quoth he, from out whose locks appeared the gleaming of the morn,
‘Sweet is the wine and sweet the flowers that joy us comrades three.
The garden of the garths of Khuld where roll and rail amain,
Rivulets ‘neath the myrtle shade and Bán’s fair branchery;
And birds make carol on the boughs and sing in blithest lay,
Yea, this indeed is life, but, ah! how soon it fades away.’”
She then asked him, “O Shaykh, an Moslems and Jews and Nazarenes drink wine, who are we that we should reject it?” Answered he, “By Allah, O my lady, spare thy pains, for this be a thing whereto I will not hearken.” When she knew that he would not consent to her desire, she said to him, “O Shaykh, I am of the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful and the food waxeth heavy on me and if I drink not, I shall die of indigestion, nor wilt thou be assured against the issue of my case.324 As for me, I acquit myself of blame towards thee, for that I have bidden thee beware of the wrath of the Commander of the Faithful, after making myself known to thee.” When the Shaykh heard her words and that wherewith she threatened him, he sprang up and went out, perplexed and unknowing what he should do, and there met him a Jewish man, which was his neighbour, and said to him, “How cometh it that I see thee, O Shaykh, strait of breast? Eke, I hear in thy house a noise of talk, such as I am unwont to hear with thee.” Quoth the Muezzin, “’Tis of a damsel who declareth that she is of the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid; and she hath eaten meat and now would drink wine in my house, but I forbade her. However she asserteth that unless she drink thereof, she will die, and indeed I am bewildered concerning my case.” Answered the Jew, “Know, O my neighbour, that the slavel-girls of the Commander of the Faithful are used to drink wine, and when they eat and drink not, they die; and I fear lest happen some mishap to her, when thou wouldst not be safe from the Caliph’s fury.” The Shaykh asked, “What is to be done?” and the Jew answered, “I have old wine that will suit her.” Quoth the Shaykh, “By the right of neighbourship, deliver me from this descent325 of calamity and let me have that which is with thee!” Quoth the Jew, “Bismillah, in the name of Allah,” and passing to his quarters, brought out a glass flask of wine, wherewith the Shaykh returned to Sitt al-Milah. This pleased her and she cried to him, “Whence hadst thou this?” He replied, “I got it from the Jew, my neighbour: I set forth to him my case with thee and he gave me this.” Thereupon Sitt al-Milah filled a cup and emptied it; after which she drank a second and a third. Then she crowned the cup a fourth time and handed it to the Shaykh, but he would not accept it from her. However, she conjured him, by her own head and that of the Prince of True Believers, that he take the cup from her, till he received it from her hand and kissed it and would have set it down; but she sware him by her life to smell it. Accordingly he smelt it and she said to him, “How deemest thou?” Said he, “I find its smell is sweet;” and she conjured him by the Caliph’s life to taste thereof. So he put it to his mouth and she rose to him and made him drink; whereupon quoth be, “O Princess of the Fair,326 this is none other than good.” Quoth she, “So deem I: hath not our Lord promised us wine in Paradise?” He answered, “Yes! The Most High saith, ‘And rivers of wine, delicious to the drinkers.’327 And we will drink it in this world and in the next world.” She laughed and emptying the cup, gave him to drink, and he said, “O Princess of the Fair, indeed thou art excusable in thy love for this.” Then he bent in hand from her another and another, till he became drunken and his talk waxed great and his prattle. The folk of the quarter heard him and assembled under the window; and when the Shaykh was ware of them, he opened the window and said to them, “Are ye not ashamed, O pimps? Every one in his own house doth whatso he willeth and none hindereth him; but we drink one single day and ye assemble and come, panders that ye are! To-day, wine, and to-morrow business;328 and from hour to hour cometh relief.” So they laughed together and dispersed. Then the girl drank till she was drunken, when she called to mind her lord and wept, and the Shaykh said to her, “What maketh thee weep, O my lady?” Said she, “O elder, I am a lover and a separated.” He cried, “O my lady, what is this love?” Cried she, “And thou, hast thou never been in love?” He replied, “By Allah, O my lady, never in all my life heard I of this thing, nor have I ever known it! Is it of the sons of Adam or of the Jinn?” She laughed and said, “Verily, thou art even as those of whom the poet speaketh, in these couplets,
“How oft shall they admonish and ye shun this nourishment;
When e’en the shepherd’s bidding is obeyPd by his flocks?
I see you like in shape and form to creatures whom we term
Mankind, but in your acts and deeds you are a sort of ox”329
The Shaykh laughed at her speech and her verses pleased him. Then cried she to him, “I desire of thee a lute.” So he arose and brought her a bit of fuel.330 Quoth she, “What is that?” and quoth he “Didst thou not say: Bring me fuel?” Said she, “I do not want this,” and said he, “What then is it that is hight fuel, other than this?” She laughed and replied, “The lute is an instrument of music, whereunto I sing.” Asked he, “Where is this thing found and of whom shall I get it for thee?” and answered she, “Of him who gave thee the wine.” So he arose and betaking himself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him, “Thou favouredst us before with the wine; so now complete thy favours and look me out a thing hight lute, which be an instrument for singing; for she seeketh this of me and I know it not.” Replied the Jew, “Hearkening and obedience,” and going into his house, brought him a lute. The old man carried it to Sitt al-Milah, whilst the Jew took his drink and sat by a window adjoining the Shaykh’s house, so he might hear the singing. The damsel rejoiced, when the old man returned to her with the lute, and taking it from him, tuned its strings and sang these couplets,
“Remains not, after you are gone, or trace of you or sign,
But hope to see this parting end and break its lengthy line:
You went and by your wending made the whole world desolate;
And none may stand this day in stead to fill the yearning eyne.
Indeed, you’ve burdened weakling me, by strength and force of you
With load no hill hath power t’upheave nor yet the plain low li’en:
And I, whenever fain I scent the breeze your land o’erbreathes,
Lose all my wits as though they were bemused with heady wine.
O folk no light affair is Love for lover woe to dree
Nor easy ’tis to satisfy its sorrow and repine.
I’ve wandered East and West to hap upon your trace, and when
Spring-camps I find the dwellers cry, ‘They’ve marched, those friends o’ thine!’
Never accustomed me to part these intimates I love;
Nay, when I left them all were wont new meetings to design.”
Now when she had ended her song, she wept with sore weeping, till presently sleep overcame her and she slept. On the morrow, she said to the Shaykh, “Get thee to the Shroff and fetch me the ordinary;” so he repaired to the money-changer and delivered him the message, whereupon he made ready meat and drink, according to his custom, with which the old man returned to the damsel and they ate their sufficiency. When she had eaten, she sought of him wine and he went to the Jew and fetched it. Then the twain sat down and drank; and when she waxed drunken, she took the lute and smiting it, fell a-singing and chanted these couplets,
“How long ask I the heart, the heart drowned, and eke
Refrain my complaint while I my tear-floods speak?
They forbid e’en the phantom to visit me,
(O marvel!) her phantom my couch to seek.”331
And when she had made an end of her song, she wept with sore weeping. All this time, the young Damascene was listening, and now he likened her voice to the voice of his slave-girl and then he put away from him this thought, and the damsel had no knowledge whatever of his presence. Then she broke out again into song and chanted these couplets,
“Quoth they, ‘Forget him! What is he?’ To them I cried,
‘Allah forget me when forget I mine adored!’
Now in this world shall I forget the love o’ you?
Heaven grant the thrall may ne’er forget to love his lord!
I pray that Allah pardon all except thy love
Which, when I meet Him may my bestest plea afford.”
After ending this song she drank three cups and filling the old man other three, improvised these couplets,
“His love he hid which tell-tale tears betrayed;
For burn of coal that ‘neath his ribs was laid:
Giv’n that he seek his joy in spring and flowers
Some day, his spring’s the face of dear-loved maid.
O ye who blame me for who baulks my love!
What sweeter thing than boon to man denayed?
A sun, yet scorcheth he my very heart!
A moon, but riseth he from breasts a-shade!”
When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her hand and wept, whilst the Shaykh wept for her weeping. Then she fell down in a fainting fit and presently recovering, crowned the cup and drinking it off, gave the elder to drink, after which she took the lute and breaking out into song, chanted these couplets,
“Thy parting is bestest of woes to my heart,
And changed my case till all sleep it eschewed:
The world to my being is desolate;
Then Oh grief! and O lingering solitude!
Maybe The Ruthful incline thee to me
And join us despite what our foes have sued!”
Then she wept till her voice rose high and her wailing was discovered to those without; after which she again began to drink and plying the Shaykh with wine, sang these couplets,
“An they hid thy person from eyen-sight,
They hid not thy name fro’ my mindful sprite:
Or meet me; thy ransom for meeting I’ll be332
Or fly me; and ransom I’ll be for thy flight!
Mine outer speaks for mine inner case,
And mine inner speaks for mine outer plight.”
When she had made an end of her verses, she threw the lute from her hand and wept and wailed. Then she slept awhile and presently awaking, said, “O Shaykh, say me, hast thou what we may eat?” He replied, “O my lady, I have the rest of the food;” but she cried, “I will not eat of the orts I have left. Go down to the bazar and fetch us what we may eat.” He rejoined, “Excuse me, O my lady, I cannot rise to my feet, because I am bemused with wine; but with me is the servant of the mosque, who is a sharp youth and an intelligent. I will call him, so he may buy thee whatso thou wantest.” Asked she, “Whence hast thou this servant?” and he answered, “He is of the people of Damascus.” When she heard him say “of the people of Damascus,” she sobbed such a sob that she swooned away; and when she came to herself, she said, “Woe is me for the people of Damascus and for those who are therein! Call him, O Shaykh, that he may do our need.” Accordingly, the old man put his head forth of the window and called the youth, who came to him from the mosque and sought leave to enter. The Muezzin bade him come in, and when he appeared before the damsel, he knew her and she knew him; whereupon he turned back in bewilderment and would have fled at hap-hazard; but she sprang up to him and held him fast, and they embraced and wept together, till they fell to the floor in a fainting fit. When the Shaykh saw them in this condition, he feared for himself and fared forth in fright, seeing not the way for drunkenness. His neighbour the Jew met him and asked him, “How is it that I behold thee astounded?” Answered the old man, “How should I not be astounded, seeing that the damsel who is with me is fallen in love with the mosque servant and they have embraced and slipped down in a swoon? Indeed, I fear lest the Caliph come to know of this and be wroth with me; so tell me thou what is thy device for that wherewith I am afflicted in the matter of this damsel.” Quoth the Jew, “For the present, take this casting-bottle of rose-water and go forthright and sprinkle them therewith: an they be aswoon for this their union and embrace, they will recover, and if otherwise, then take to flight.” The Shaykh snatched the casting-bottle from the Jew and going up to the twain, sprinkled their faces, whereupon they came to themselves and fell to relating each to other that which they had suffered, since both had been parted, for the pangs of severance. Nur al-Din also acquainted Sitt al-Milah with that which he had endured from the folk who would have killed333 him and utterly annihilated him; and she said to him, “O my lord, let us for the nonce leave this talk and praise Allah for reunion of loves, and all this shall cease from us.” Then she gave him the cup and he said, “By Allah, I will on no wise drink it, whilst I am in this case!” So she drank it off before him and taking the lute, swept the strings and sang these couplets,
“O absent fro’ me and yet present in place,
Thou art far from mine eyes and yet ever nigh!
Thy farness bequeathed me all sorrow and care
And my troublous life can no joy espy:
Lone, forlorn, weeping-eyelidded, miserablest,
I abide for thy sake as though banisht I:
Then (ah grief o’ me!) far thou hast fared from sight
Yet canst no more depart me than apple of eye!”
When she had made an end of her verse, she wept and the young man of Damascus, Nur al-Din, wept also. Then she took the lute and improvised these couplets,
“Well Allah wots I never namPd you
But tears o’erbrimming eyes in floods outburst;
And passion raged and pine would do me die,
Yet my heart rested wi’ the thought it nurst;
O eye-light mine, O wish and O my hope!
Your face can never quench mine eyes’ hot thirst.”
When Nur al-Din heard these his slave-girl’s verses, he fell a-weeping, while she strained him to her bosom and wiped away his tears with her sleeve and questioned him and comforted his mind. Then she took the lute and sweeping its strings, played thereon with such performing as would move the staidest to delight and sang these couplets,
“Indeed, what day brings not your sight to me,
That day I rem’mber not as dight to me!
And, when I vainly long on you to look,
My life is lost, Oh life and light o’ me!”
After this fashion they fared till the morning, tasting not the nourishment of sleep;334 and when the day lightened, behold the eunuch came with the she-mule and said to Sitt al-Milah, “The Commander of the Faithful calleth for thee.” So she arose and taking by the hand her lord, committed him to the Shaykh, saying, “This is the deposit of Allah, then thy deposit,335 till this eunuch cometh to thee; and indeed, O elder, my due to thee is the white hand of favour such as filleth the interval betwixt heaven and earth.” Then she mounted the mule and repairing to the palace of the Commander of the Faithful, went in to him and kissed ground before him. Quoth he to her, as who should make mock of her, “I doubt not but thou hast found thy lord;” and quoth she, “By thy felicity and the length of thy continuance on life, I have indeed found him!” Now Al-Rashid was leaning back; but, when he heard this, he sat upright and said to her “By my life, true?” She replied, “Ay, by thy life!” He said, “Bring him into my presence, so I may see him;” but she said, “O my lord, there have happened to him many hardships and his charms are changed and his favour faded; and indeed the Prince of True Believers vouchsafed me a month; wherefore I will tend him the rest of the month and then bring him to do his service to the Commander of the Faithful.” Quoth Al-Rashid, “Sooth thou sayest: the condition certainly was for a month; but tell me what hath betided him.” Quoth she, “O my lord (Allah prolong thy continuance and make Paradise thy place of returning and thine asylum and the fire the abiding-place of thy foes!), when he presenteth himself to serve thee, he will assuredly expound to thee his case and will name to thee his wrongdoers; and indeed this is an arrear that is due to the Prince of True Believers, by whom may Allah fortify the Faith and vouchsafe him the victory over rebel and froward wretch!” Thereupon he ordered her a fine house and bade furnish it with carpets and vessels of choice and commanded them to give all she needed. This was done during the rest of the day, and when the night came, she sent the eunuch with a suit of clothes and the mule, to fetch Nur al-Din from the Muezzin’s lodging. So the young man donned the dress and mounting, rode to the house, where he abode in comfort and luxury a full-told month, while she solaced him with four things, the eating of fowls and the drinking of wine and the sleeping upon brocade and the entering the bath after horizontal refreshment.336 Furthermore, she brought him six suits of linen stuffs and took to changing his clothes day by day; nor was the appointed time of delay accomplished ere his beauty and loveliness returned to him; nay, his favour waxed tenfold fairer and he became a seduction to all who looked upon him. One day of the days Al-Rashid bade bring him to the presence; so his slave-girl changed his clothes and robing him in sumptuous raiment, mounted him on the she-mule. Then he rode to the palace and presenting himself before the Caliph, saluted him with the goodliest of salutations and bespake him with Truchman’s 337 speech eloquent and deep-thoughted. When Al-Rashid saw him, he marvelled at the seemliness of his semblance and his loquence and eloquence and asking of him, was told that he was Sitt al-Milah’s lord; whereupon quoth he, “Indeed, she is excusable in her love for him, and if we had put her to death wrongfully, as we were minded to do, her blood would have been upon our heads.” Then he accosted the young man and entering into discourse with him, found him well-bred, intelligent, clever, quick-witted, generous, pleasant, elegant, excellent. So he loved him with exceeding love and questioned him of his native city and of his sire and of the cause of his journey to Baghdad. Nur al-Din acquainted him with that which he would know in the goodliest words and concisest phrases; and the Caliph asked him, “And where hast thou been absent all this while? Verily, we sent after thee to Damascus and Mosul and all other cities, but happened on no tidings of thee.” Answered the young man, “O my lord, there betided thy slave in thy capital that which never yet betided any.” Then he acquainted him with his case, first and last, and told him that which had befallen him of evil from Al-Muradi and the Chief of Police. Now when Al-Rashid heard this, he was chagrined with sore chagrin and waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and cried, “Shall this thing happen in a city wherein I am?” And the Háshimí vein 338 started out between his eyes. Then he bade fetch Ja’afar, and when he came between his hands, he acquainted him with the adventure and said to him, “Shall this thing come to pass in my city and I have no news of it?” Thereupon he bade Ja’afar fetch all whom the young Damascene had named,and when they came, he bade smite their necks: he also summoned him whom they called Ahmad and who had been the means of the young man’s deliverance a first time and a second, and thanked him and showed him favour and bestowed on him a costly robe of honour and made him Chief of Police in his city.339 Then he sent for the Shaykh, the Muezzin, and when the messenger came to him and told him that the Commander of the Faithfull summoned him, he feared the denunciation of the damsel and walked with him to the palace, farting for fear as he went, whilst all who passed him by laughed at him. When he came into the presence of the Commander of the Faithful, he fell a-trembling and his tongue was tied,340 so that he could not speak. The Caliph smiled at him and said, “O Shaykh, thou hast done no offence; so why fearest thou?” Answered the old man (and indeed he was in the sorest of that which may be of fear), “O my lord, by the virtue of thy pure forefathers, indeed I have done naught, and do thou enquire of my manners and morals.” The Caliph laughed at him and ordering him a thousand dinars, bestowed on him a costly robe of honour and made him headman of the Muezzins in his mosque. Then he called Sitt al-Milah and said to her, “The house wherein thou lodgest with all it containeth is a largesse to thy lord: so do thou take him and depart with him in the safeguard of Allah Almighty; but absent not yourselves from our presence.” Accordingly she went forth with the young Damascene and when she came to the house, she found that the Prince of True Believers had sent them gifts galore and good things in store. As for Nur al-Din, he sent for his father and mother and appointed for himself agents in the city of Damascus, to receive the rent of the houses and gardens and Wakalahs and Hammams; and they occupied themseves with collecting that which accrued to him and sending it to him every year. Meanwhile, his father and mother came to him, with that which they had of monies and merchandise of price and, foregathering with their son, found that he was become of the chief officers and familiars of the Commander of the Faithful and of the number of his sitting-companions and nightly entertainers, wherefore they rejoiced in reunion with him and he also rejoiced in them. The Caliph assigned them solde and allowances; and as for Nur al-Din, his father brought him those riches and his wealth waxed and his estate was stablished, till he became the richest of the folk of his time in Baghdad and left not the presence of the Commander of the Faithful or by night or by day. He was vouchsafed issue by Sitt al-Milah, and he ceased not to live the goodliest of lives, he and she and his father and his mother, a while of time, till Abu al-Hasan sickened of a sore sickness and departed to the mercy of Allah Almighty. Presently, his mother also died and he carried them forth and shrouded them and buried and made them expiations and funeral ceremonies.341 In due course his children grew up and became like moons, and he reared them in splendour and affection, while his wealth waxed and his case never waned. He ceased not to pay frequent visits to the Commander of the Faithful, he and his children and his slave-girl Sitt al-Milah, and they abode in all solace of life and prosperity till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies; and laud to the Abiding, the Eternal! This is all that hath come down to us of their story.
280 The Bresl. Edit. (vol. xii. pp. 50-116, Nights dcccclviii- dcccclxv.) entitles it “Tale of Abu al-Hasan the Damascene and his son Sídí Nur al-Dín ‘ Alí.” Sídí means simply, “my lord,” but here becomes part of the name, a practice perpetuated in Zanzibar. See vol. v.283.
281 i.e. at the hours of canonical prayers and other suitable times he made an especial orison (du’á) for issue.
282 See vol. i.85, for the traditional witchcraft of Babylonia.
283 i.e. More or less thoroughly.
284 i.e. “He who quitteth not his native country diverteth not himself with a sight of the wonders of the world.”
285 For similar sayings, see vol. ix.257, and my Pilgrimage i.127.
286 i.e. relying upon, etc.
287 The Egyptian term for a khan, called in Persia caravanserai (karwán-serái); and in Marocco funduk, from the Greek {Greek text}; whence the Spanish “fonda.” See vol. i. 92.
288 Arab. “Baliyah,” to jingle with “Bábiliyah.”
289 As a rule whenever this old villain appears in The Nights, it is a signal for an outburst of obscenity. Here, however, we are quittes pour la peur. See vol. v. 65 for some of his abominations.
290 The lines are in vols. viii.279 and ix.197. I quote Mr. Payne.
291 Lady or princess of the Fair (ones).
292 i.e. of buying.
293 Arab. “Azán-hú=lit. its ears.
294 Here again the policeman is made a villain of the deepest dye; bad enough to gratify the intelligence of his deadliest enemy, a lodging-keeper in London.
295 i.e. You are welcome to it and so it becomes lawful (halál) to you.
296 Arab. “Sijn al-Dam,” the Carcere duro inasprito (to speak Triestine), where men convicted or even accused of bloodshed were confined.
297 Arab. “Mabásim”; plur. of Mabsim, a smiling mouth which shows the foreteeth.
298 The branchlet, as usual, is the youth’s slender form.
299 Subaudi, “An ye disdain my love.”
300 In the text “sleep.”
301 “Them” and “him” for “her.”
302 ‘Urkúb, a Jew of Yathrib or Khaybar, immortalised in the A.P. (i. 454) as “more promise-breaking than ‘Urkúb.”
303 Uncle of Mohammed. See vol. viii. 172.
304 First cousin of Mohammed. See ib.
305 This threat of “‘Orf with her ‘ead” shows the Caliph’s lordliness.
306 Arab. “Al-Bashkhánah.”
307 i.e. Amen. See vol. ix. 131.
308 When asked, on Doomsday, his justification for having slain her.
309 Khorasan which included our Afghanistan, turbulent then as now, was in a chronic state of rebellion during the latter part of Al-Rashid’s reign.
310 The brutality of a Moslem mob on such occasions is phenomenal: no fellow-feeling makes them decently kind. And so at executions even women will take an active part in insulting and tormenting the criminal, tearing his hair, spitting in his face and so forth. It is the instinctive brutality with which wild beasts and birds tear to pieces a wounded companion.
311 The popular way of stopping hemorrhage by plunging the stump into burning oil which continued even in Europe till Ambrose Paré taught men to take up the arteries.
312 i.e. folk of good family.
313 i.e. the result of thy fervent prayers to Allah for me.
314 Arab. “Al-Abárík” plur. of lbrik, an ewer containing water for the Wuzu-ablution. I have already explained that a Moslem wishing to be ceremonially pure, cannot wash as Europeans do, in a basin whose contents are fouled by the first touch.
315 Arab. “Náihah,the prFfica or myriologist. See vol. i. 311. The proverb means, “If you want a thing done, do it yourself.”
316 Arab. “Burka’,” the face veil of Egypt, Syria, and Arabia with two holes for the eyes, and the end hanging to the waist, a great contrast with the “Lithám or coquettish fold of transparent muslin affected by modest women in Stambul.
317 i.e. donned petticoat-trousers and walking boots other than those she was wont to wear.
318 “Surah” (Koranic chapter) may be a clerical error for “Súrah” (with a Sád) = sort, fashion (of food).
319 This is solemn religious chaff; the Shaykh had doubtless often dipped his hand abroad in such dishes; but like a good Moslem, he contented himself at home with wheaten scones and olives, a kind of sacramental food like bread and wine in southern Europe. But his retort would be acceptable to the True Believer who, the strictest of conservatives, prides himself on imitating in all points, the sayings and doings of the Apostle.
320 i.e. animals that died without being ceremonially killed.
321 Koran ii. 168. This is from the Chapter of the Cow where “that which dieth of itself (carrion), blood, pork, and that over which other name but that of Allah (i.e. idols) hath been invoked” are forbidden. But the verset humanely concludes: “Whoso, however, shall eat them by constraint, without desire, or as a transgressor, then no sin shall be upon him.”
322 i.e. son of Simeon=a Christian.
323 Arab. and Heb. “Haykal,” suggesting the idea of large space, a temple, a sanctuary, a palace which bear a suspicious likeness to the Accadian K-kal or Great House = the old Egyptian Perao (Pharaoh?), and the Japanese “Mikado.”
324 Wine, carrion and pork being lawful to the Moslem if used to save life. The former is also the sovereignest thing for inward troubles, flatulence, indigestion, etc. See vol. v. 2, 24.
325 Arab. “Názilah,” i.e., a curse coming down from Heaven.
326 Here and below, a translation of her name.
327 “A picture of Paradise which is promised to the God-fearing! Therein are rivers of water which taint not; and rivers of milk whose taste changeth not; and rivers of wine, etc."— Koran xlvii. 16.
328 Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter,
Sermons and soda-water the day after.
Don Juan ii. 178.
329 The ox (Bakar) and the bull (Taur, vol. i. 16) are the Moslem emblems of stupidity, as with us are the highly intelligent ass and the most sagacious goose.
330 In Arab. “‘Ud” means primarily wood; then a lute. See vol. ii. 100. The Muezzin, like the schoolmaster, is popularly supposed to be a fool.
331 I have noticed that among Arab lovers it was the fashion to be jealous of the mistress’s nightly phantom which, as amongst mesmerists, is the lover’s embodied will.
332 i.e. I will lay down my life to save thee from sorrow — a common-place hyperbole of love.
333 Arab. “Katl.” I have noticed the Hibernian “kilt” which is not a bull but, like most provincialisms and Americanisms, a survival, an archaism. In the old Frisian dialect, which agrees with English in more words than “bread, butter and cheese,” we find the primary meaning of terms which with us have survived only in their secondary senses, e.g. killen = to beat and slagen = to strike. Here is its great value to the English philologist. When the Irishman complains that he is “kilt” we know through the Frisian what he really means.
334 The decency of this description is highly commendable and I may note that the Bresl. Edit. is comparatively free from erotic pictures.
335 i.e. “I commit him to thy charge under God.”
336 This is an Americanism, but it translates passing well “Al-iláj” = insertion.
337 Arab. (and Heb.) “Tarjumán” = a dragoman, for which see vol. i. 100. In the next tale it will occur with the sense of polyglottic.
338 See vol. i. p. 35.
339 After putting to death the unjust Prefect.
340 Arab. “Lajlaj.” See vol. ix. 322.
341 Arab. “Mawálid” lit. = nativity festivals (plur. of Maulid). See vol. ix. 289.
There was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before, in the city of Baghdad, the House of Peace, a king mighty of estate, lord of understanding and beneficence and generosity and munificence, and he was strong of sultanate and endowed with might and majesty and magnificence. His name was Ins bin Kays bin Rabí’ al-Shaybání,343 and when he took horse, there rode about him riders from the farthest parts of the two Iraks.344 Almighty Allah decreed that he should take to wife a woman hight ‘Afífah, daughter of Asad al-Sundúsi, who was endowed with beauty and loveliness and brightness and perfect grace and symmetry of shape and stature; her face was like the crescent moon and she had eyes as they were gazelle’s eyes and an aquiline nose like Luna’s cymb. She had learned cavalarice and the use of arms and had mastered the sciences of the Arabs; eke she had gotten by heart all the dragomanish345 tongues and indeed she was a ravishment to mankind. She abode with Ins bin Kays twelve years, during which time he was not blessed with children by her; so his breast was straitened by reason of the failure of lineage, and he besought his Lord to vouchsafe him a son. Accordingly the queen conceived, by permission of Allah Almighty; and when the days of her pregnancy were accomplished, she gave birth to a maid-child, than whom never saw eyes fairer, for that her face was as it were a pearl pure-bright or a lamp raying light or a candle gilt with gold or a full moon breaking cloudy fold, extolled be He who her from vile water dight and made her to the beholders a delight! When her father saw her in this fashion of loveliness, his reason fled for joy, and when she grew up, he taught her writing and belles-lettres and philosophy and all manner of tongues. So she excelled the folk of her time and surpassed her peers; and the sons of the kings heard of her and all of them longed to look upon her. The first who sought her to wife was King Nabhán346 of Mosul, who came to her with a great company, bringing an hundred she-camels, laden with musk and lign-aloes and ambergris and five score loaded with camphor and jewels and other hundred laden with silver monies and yet other hundred loaded with raiment of silken stuffs, sendal and brocade, besides an hundred slave-girls and a century of choice steeds of swift and generous breeds, completely housed and accoutred, as they were brides; and all this he had laid before her father, demanding her of him in wedlock. Now King Ins bin Kays had bound himself by an oath that he would not marry his daughter save to him whom she should choose; so, when King Nabhan sought her in marriage, her father went in to her and consulted her concerning his affair. She consented not and he repeated to Nabhan that which she said, whereupon he departed from him. After this came King Bahrám, lord of the White Island, with treasures richer than the first; but she accepted not of him and he returned disappointed; nor did the kings cease coming to her sire, on her account, one after other, from the farthest of the lands and the climes, each glorying in bringing more than those who forewent him; but she heeded not any one of them. Presently, Al-‘Abbás, son of King Al-‘Azíz, lord of the land of Al-Yaman and Zabídún347 and Meccah (which Allah increase in honour and brightness and beauty!) heard of her; and he was of the great ones of Meccah and Al-Hijáz,348 and was a youth without hair on his side-face. So he presented himself one day in his sire’s assembly, whereupon the folk made way for him and the king seated him on a chair of red gold, crusted with pearls and gems. The Prince sat, with his head bowed groundwards, and spake not to any: whereby his father knew that his breast was straitened and bade the cup-companions and men of wit relate marvellous histories, such as beseem the sessions of kings; nor was there one of them but spoke forth the goodliest of that which was with him; but Al-‘Abbás still abode with his head bowed down. Then the king bade his sitting-companions withdraw, and when the chamber was private, he looked at his son and said to him, “By Allah, thou cheerest me with thy coming in to me and chagrinest me for that thou payest no heed to any of the familiars nor of the cup-companions. What is the cause of this?” Answered the Prince, “O my papa, I have heard tell that in the land of Al-Irák is a woman of the daughters of the kings, and her father is called King Ins bin Kays, lord of Baghdad; she is famed for beauty and loveliness and brightness and perfect grace, and indeed many of the kings have sought her in marriage; but her soul consented not unto any one of them. Wherefore my thought prompteth me to travel herwards, for that my heart cleaveth to her, and I beseech thee suffer me to go to her.” His sire replied, “O my son, thou knowest that I have none other than thyself of children and thou art the coolth of mine eyes and the fruit of my vitals; nay, I cannot brook to be parted from thee a single hour and I purpose to seat thee on the throne of the kingship and espouse thee to one of the daughters of the kings, who shall be fairer than she.” Al-Abbas gave ear to his father’s word and dared not gainsay him; wherefore he abode with him awhile, whilst the love-fire raged in his vitals. Then the king took rede with himself to build his son a Hammam and adorn it with various paintings, so he might display it to him and divert him with the sight thereof, to the intent that his body might be solaced thereby and that the accident of travel might cease from him and he be turned from his purpose of removal from his parents. Presently he addressed himself to the building of the bath and assembling architects and artisans from all his cities and citadels and islands, assigned them a foundation-site and marked out its boundaries. Then the workmen occupied themselves with the building of the Hammam and the ordinance and adornment of its cabinets and roofs. They used paints and precious minerals of all kinds, according to the contrast of their colours, red and green and blue and yellow and what not else of all manner tincts; and each artisan wrought at his craft and each painter at his art, whilst the rest of the folk busied themselves with transporting thither vari-coloured stones. One day, as the Master-painter wrought at his work, there came in to him a poor man, who looked long upon him and observed his mystery; whereupon quoth the artist to him, “Knowest thou aught of painting?” Quoth the stranger, “Yes;” so he gave him tools and paints and said to him, “Limn for us a rare semblance.” Accordingly the pauper stranger entered one of the bath-chambers and drew on its walls a double border, which he adorned on both sides, after a fashion than which eyes never saw a fairer. Moreover, amiddlemost the chamber he limned a picture to which there lacked but the breath,349 and it was the portraiture of Mariyah, daughter to the king of Baghdad. Then, when he had finished the portrait, he went his way and told none of what he had done, nor knew any wight the chambers and doors of the bath and the adornment and ordinance thereof. Presently the chief artisan came to the palace and sought audience of the king who bade admit him. So he entered and kissing the earth, saluted him with a salam beseeming Sultans and said, “O king of the time and lord of the age and the tide, may prosperity endure to thee and acceptance and eke thy degree over all the kings both morning and evening350 exalted be! The work of the bath is accomplished, by the king’s fair fortune and the purity of his purpose, and indeed, we have done all that behoved us and there remaineth but that which behoveth the king.” Al-Aziz ordered him a costly robe of honour and expended monies galore, giving unto each who had wroughten after the measure of his work. Then he assembled in the Hammam all the Lords of his realm, Emirs and Wazirs and Chamberlains and Nabobs, and the chief officers of his kingdom and household, and sending for his son Al-Abbas, said to him, “O my son, I have builded thee a bath, wherein thou mayst take thy pleasance; so enter that thou mayst see it and divert thyself by gazing upon it and viewing the beauty of its ordinance and decoration.” “With love and gladness,” replied the Prince and entered the bath, he and the king and the folk about them, so they might divert themselves with viewing that which the workmen’s hands had worked. Al-Abbas went in and passed from place to place and chamber to chamber, till he came to the room aforesaid and espied the portrait of Mariyah, whereupon he fell down in a fainting-fit and the workmen went to his father and said to him, “Thy son Al-Abbas hath swooned away.” So the king came and finding his son cast down, seated himself at his head and bathed his face with rose-water. After awhile he revived and the king said to him, “I seek refuge with Allah for thee, O my son! What accident hath befallen thee?” The Prince replied, “O my father, I did but look on yonder picture and it bequeathed me a thousand qualms and there befel me that which thou beholdest.” Therewith the king bade fetch the Master-painter, and when he stood before him, he said to him, “Tell me of yonder portrait and what girl is this of the daughters of the kings; else I will take thy head.” Said the painter, “By Allah, O king, I limned it not, neither know I who she is; but there came to me a poor man and looked hard at me. So I asked him, Knowest thou the art of painting? and he answered, Yes. Whereupon I gave him the gear and said to him, Limn for us a rare semblance. Accordingly he painted yonder portrait and went away and I wot him not neither have I ever set eyes on him save that day.” Hearing this, the king ordered all his officers to go round about in the thoroughfares and colleges and to bring before him all strangers they found there. So they went forth and brought him much people, amongst whom was the pauper who had painted the portrait. When they came into the presence, the Sultan bade the crier make public proclamation that whoso wrought the portrait should discover himself and have whatso he wished. Thereupon the poor man came forward and kissing the ground before the king, said to him, “O king of the age, I am he who limned yonder likeness.” Quoth Al-Aziz, “And knowest thou who she is?” and quoth the other, “Yes, this is the portrait of Mariyah, daughter of the king of Baorhdad.” The king ordered him a robe of honour and a slave-girl and he went his way. Then said Al-Abbas, “O my papa, give me leave to seek her, so I may look upon her: else shall I farewell the world, withouten fail.” The king his father wept and answered, “O my son, I builded thee a Hammam, that it might turn thee from leaving me, and behold, it hath been the cause of thy going forth; but the behest of Allah is a determinate decree.”351 Then he wept again and Al-Abbas said to him, “Fear not for me, for thou knowest my prowess and puissance in returning answers in the assemblies of the land and my good breeding and accomplishments together with my skill in rhetoric; and indeed for him whose father thou art and whom thou hast reared and bred and in whom thou hast united praiseworthy qualities, the repute whereof hath traversed the East and the West, thou needest not fear aught, more especially as I purpose but to seek pleasuring and return to thee, an it be the will of Allah Almighty.” Quoth the king, “Whom wilt thou take with thee of attendants and what of monies?” Replied Al-Abbas, “O my papa, I have no need of horses or camels or weapons, for I purpose not warfare, and I will have none go forth with me save my page ‘Amir and no more.” Now as he and his father were thus engaged in talk, in came his mother and caught hold of him; and he said to her, “Allah upon thee, let me gang my gait and strive not to divert me from what purpose I have purposed, for needs must I go.” She replied, “O my son, if it must be so and there be no help for it, swear to me that thou wilt not be absent from me more than a year.” And he sware to her. Then he entered his father’s treasuries and took therefrom what he would of jewels and jacinths and everything weighty of worth and light of load: he also bade his servant Amir saddle him two steeds and the like for himself, and whenas the night beset his back,352 he rose from his couch and mounting his horse, set out for Baghdad, he and Amir, whilst the page knew not whither he intended.353 He gave not over going and the journey was joyous to him, till they came to a goodly land, abounding in birds and wild beasts, whereupon Al-Abbas started a gazelle and shot it with a shaft. Then he dismounted and cutting its throat, said to his servant, “Alight thou and skin it and carry it to the water.” Amir answered him with “Hearkening and obedience” and going down to the water, built a fire and broiled the gazelle’s flesh. Then they ate their fill and drank of the water, after which they mounted again and fared on with diligent faring, and Amir still unknowing whither Al-Abbas was minded to wend. So he said to him, “O my lord, I conjure thee by Allah of All-might, wilt thou not tell me whither thou intendest?” Al-Abbas looked at him and in reply improvised these couplets,
“In my vitals are fires of desire and repine;
And naught I reply when they flare on high:
Baghdad-wards I hie me on life-and-death work,
Loving one who distorts my right judgment awry:
A swift camel under me shortcuts the wold
And deem it a cloud all who nearhand espy:
O ‘Ámir make haste after model of her
Who would heal mine ill and Love’s cup drain dry:
For the leven of love burns the vitals of me;
So with me seek my tribe and stint all reply.”
When Amir heard his lord’s verses, he knew that he was a slave of love and that she whom he loved abode in Baghdad. Then they fared on night and day, traversing plain and stony way, till they sighted Baghdad and lighted down in its environs354 and there lay their night. When they arose in the morning, they removed to the bank of the Tigris where they encamped and sojourned a second day and a third. As they abode thus on the fourth day, behold, a company of folk giving their beasts the rein and crying aloud and saying, “Quick! Quick! Haste to our rescue, Ho thou the King!” Therewith the King’s chamberlains and officers accosted them and said, “What is behind you and what hath betided you?” Quoth they, “Bring us before the King.” So they carried them to Ins bin Kays; and when they saw him, they said to him, “O king, unless thou succour us, we are dead men; for that we are a folk of the Banú Shaybán,355 who have taken up our abode in the parts of Bassorah, and Hodhayfah the wild Arab hath come down on us with his steeds and his men and hath slain our horse-men and carried off our women and children; nor was one saved of the tribe but he who fled; wherefore we crave help first by Allah Almighty, then by thy life.” When the king heard their speech, he bade the crier proclaim in the highways of the city that the troops should busk them to march and that the horsemen should mount and the footmen fare forth; nor was it but the twinkling of the eye ere the kettle-drums beat and the trumpets blared; and scarce was the forenoon of the day passed when the city was blocked with horse and foot. Presently, the king reviewed them and behold, they were four-and-twenty thousand in number, cavalry and infantry. He bade them go forth to the enemy and gave the command of them to Sa’ad ibn al-Wákidí, a doughty cavalier and a dauntless champion; so the horsemen set out and fared on along the Tigris-bank. Al-Abbas, son of King Al-Aziz, looked at them and saw the flags flaunting and the standards stirring and heard the kettle-drums beating; so he bade his page saddle him a blood-steed and look to the surcingles and bring him his harness of war, for indeed horsemanship356 was rooted in his heart. Quoth Amir, “And indeed I saw Al-Abbas, his eyes waxed red and the hair of his hands on end.” So he mounted his charger, whilst Amir also bestrode a destrier, and they went forth with the commando and fared on two days. On the third day, after the hour of the midafternoon prayer, they came in sight of the foe and the two armies met and the two ranks joined in fight. The strife raged amain and sore was the strain, whilst the dust rose in clouds and hung in vaulted shrouds, so that all eyes were blinded; and they ceased not from the battle till the night overtook them,357 when the two hosts drew off from the mellay and passed the night, perplexed concerning themselves. When Allah caused the morning to morrow, the two hosts were aligned in line and their thousands fixed their eyne and the troops stood looking one at other. Then sallied forth Al-Háris ibn Sa’ad between the two lines and played with his lance and cried out and improvised these couplets,
“You are in every way this day our prey;
And ever we prayed your sight to see:
The Ruthful drave you Hodhayfah-wards
To the Brave, the Lion who sways the free:
Say, amid you’s a man who would heal his ills,
With whose lust of battle shrewd blows agree?
Then by Allah meet me who come to you
And whoso is wronged shall the wronger be.”358
Thereupon there sallied forth to him Zuhayr bin Habíb, and they wheeled about and wiled a while, then they exchanged strokes. Al-Haris forewent his foe in smiting and stretched him weltering in his gore; whereupon Hodhayfah cried out to him, “Gifted of Allah359 art thou, O Haris! Call out another of them.” So he cried aloud, “I say, who be a champion?” But they of Baghdad held back from him; and when it appeared to Al-Haris that consternation was amongst them, he charged down upon them and overrolled the first of them upon the last of them and slew of them twelve men. Then the evening caught him and the Baghdadis began addressing themselves to flight. No sooner had the morning morrowed than they found themselves reduced to a fourth part of their number and there was not one of them had dismounted from his horse. Wherefore they made sure of destruction and Hodhayfah rushed out between the two lines (now he was reckoned good for a thousand knights) and cried out, “Harkye, my masters of Baghdad! Let none come forth to me but your Emir, so I may talk with him and he with me; and he shall meet me in combat singular and I will meet him, and may he who is clear of offence come off safe.” Then he repeated his words and said, “How is it I see your Emir refuse me a reply?” But Sa’ad, the Emir of the army of Baghdad, answered him not, and indeed his teeth chattered in his mouth, when he heard him summon him to the duello. Now when Al-Abbas heard Hodhayfah’s challenge and saw Sa’ad in this case, he came up to the Emir and asked him, “Wilt thou suffer me to answer him and I will be thy substitute in replying him and in monomachy with him and will make my life thy sacrifice?” Sa’ad looked at him and seeing knighthood shining from between his eyes, said to him, “O youth, by the virtue of Mustafá the Chosen Prophet (whom Allah save and assain), tell me who thou art and whence thou comest to bring us victory.”360 Quoth the Prince, “This is no place for questioning;” and quoth Sa’ad to him, “O Knight, up and at Hodhayfah! Yet, if his Satan prove too strong for thee, afflict not thyself on thy youth.”361 Al-Abbas cried, “Allah is He of whom help is to be sought;”362 and, taking his arms, fortified his purpose and went down into the field, as he were a fort of the forts or a mountain’s contrefort. Thereupon Hodhayfah cried out to him, saying, “Haste thee not, O youth! Who art thou of the folk?” He replied, “I am Sa’ad ibn al-Wakidi, commander of the host of King Ins, and but for thy pride in challenging me, I had not come forth to thee; for thou art no peer for me to front nor as mine equal dost thou count nor canst thou bear my brunt. Wherefore get thee ready for the last march363 seeing that there abideth but a little of thy life.” When Hodhayfah heard this speech, he threw himself backwards,364 as if in mockery of him, whereat Al-Abbas was wroth and called out to him, saying, “O Hodhayfah, guard thyself against me.” Then he rushed upon him, as he were a swooper of the Jinn,365 and Hodhayfah met him and they wheeled about a long while. Presently, Al-Abbas cried out at Hodhayfah a cry which astounded him and struck him a stroke, saying, “Take this from the hand of a brave who feareth not the like of thee.” Hodhayfah met the sabre-sway with his shield, thinking to ward it off from him; but the blade shore the target in sunder and descending upon his shoulder, came forth gleaming from the tendons of his throat and severed his arm at the armpit; whereupon he fell down, wallowing in his blood, and Al-Abbas turned upon his host; not had the sun departed the dome of the welkin ere Hodhayfah’s army was in full flight before Al-Abbas and the saddles were empty of men. Quoth Sa’ad, “By the virtue of Mustafa the Chosen Prophet, whom Allah save and assain, I saw Al-Abbas with the blood upon his saddle-pads, in clots like camels’ livers, smiting with the sword right and left, till he scattered them abroad in every gorge and wold; and when he hied him back to the camp, the men of Baghdad were fearful of him.” But as soon as they saw this victory which had betided them over their foes, they turned back and gathering together the weapons and treasures and horses of those they had slain, returned to Baghdad, victorious, and all by the knightly valour of Al-Abbas. As for Sa’ad, he foregathered with his lord, and they fared on in company till they came to the place where Al-Abbas had taken horse, whereupon the Prince dismounted from his charger and Sa’ad said to him, “O youth, wherefore alightest thou in other than thy place? Indeed, thy rights be incumbent upon us and upon our Sultan; so go thou with us to the dwellings, that we may ransom thee with our souls.” Replied Al-Abbas, “O Emir Sa’ad, from this place I took horse with thee and herein is my lodging. So, Allah upon thee, mention not me to the king, but make as if thou hadst never seen me because I am a stranger in the land.” So saying he turned away from him and Sa’ad fared on to his palace, where he found all the courtiers in attendance on the king and recounting to him that which had betided them with Al-Abbas. Quoth the king, “Where is he?” and quoth they, “He is with the Emir Sa’ad.” So, when the Emir entered, the king looked, but found none with him; and Sa’ad, seeing at a glance that he longed to look upon the youth, cried out to him, saying, “Allah prolong the king’s days! Indeed, he refuseth to present himself before thee, without order or leave.” Asked the king, “O Sa’ad, whence cometh this man?” and the Emir answered, “O my lord, I know not; but he is a youth fair of favour, amiable of aspect, accomplished in address, ready of repartee, and valour shineth from between his eyes.” Quoth the king, “O Sa’ad, fetch him to me, for indeed thou describest to me at full length a mighty matter.”366 And he answered, saying, “By Allah, O my lord, hadst thou but seen our case with Hodhayfah, when he challenged me to the field of fight and the stead of cut-and-thrust and I held back from doing battle with him! Then, as I thought to go forth to him, behold, a knight gave loose to his bridle-rein and called out to me, saying, ‘O Sa’ad, wilt thou suffer me to be thy substitute in waging war with him and I will ransom thee with myself?’ and quoth I, ‘By Allah, O youth, whence comest thou?’ and quoth he, ‘This be no time for thy questions, while Hodhayfah standeth awaiting thee.’” Thereupon he repeated to the king all that had passed between himself and Al-Abbas from first to last; whereat cried Ins bin Kays, “Bring him to me in haste, so we may learn his tidings and question him of his case.” “’Tis well,” replied Sa’ad, and going forth of the king’s presence, repaired to his own house, where he doffed his war-harness and took rest for himself. On this wise fared it with the Emir Sa’ad, but as regards Al-Abbas, when he dismounted from his destrier, he doffed his war-gear and repose himself awhile; after which he brought out a body-dress of Venetian367 silk and a gown of green damask and donning them, bound about his head a turband of Damietta stuff and zoned his waist with a kerchief. Then he went out a-walking in the highways of Baghdad and fared on till he came to the bazar of the traders. There he found a merchant, with chess before him; so the Prince stood watching him, and presently the other looked up at him and asked him, “O youth, what wilt thou bet upon the game?” He answered, “Be it thine to decide.” Said the merchant, “Then be it an hundred dinars,” and Al-Abbas consented to him; whereupon quoth he, “Produce the money, O youth, so the game may be fairly stablished.” Accordingly Al-Abbas brought out a satin purse, wherein were a thousand dinars, and laid down an hundred dinars therefrom on the edge of the carpet, whilst the merchant produced the like, and indeed his reason fled for joy when he saw the gold in possession of Al-Abbas. The folk flocked about them, to divert themselves with watching the play, and they called the bystanders to witness the wager and after the stakes were duly staked, the twain fell a-playing. Al-Abbas forebore the merchant, so he might lead him on, and dallied with him a full hour; and the merchant won and took of him the hundred dinars. Then said the Prince, “Wilt thou play another partie?” and the other said, “O youth, I will not play again, save for a thousand dinars.” Quoth the youth, ‘Whatsoever thou stakest, I will match thy stake with its like.” So the merchant brought out a thousand dinars and the Prince covered them with other thousand. Then the game began, but Al-Abbas was not long with him ere he beat him in the house of the elephant368 nor did he cease to do thus till he had beaten him four times and won of him four thousand dinars. This was all the merchant had of money; so he said, “O youth, I will play thee another game for the shop.” Now the value of the shop was four thousand dinars; so they played and Al-Ahbas beat him and won his shop, with whatso was therein; upon which the other arose, shaking his clothes,369 and said to him, “Up, O youth, and take thy shop.” Accordingly Al-Abbas arose and repairing to the shop, took possession thereof, after which he returned to the place where he had left his servant ‘Amir, and found there the Emir Sa’ad, who was come to bid him to the presence of the king. The Prince consented to this and accompanied him till they came before King Ins bin Kays, whereupon he kissed the ground and saluted him and exaggerated370 the salutation. So the king asked him, “Whence comest thou, O youth, and whither goest thou?” and he answered, “I come from Al-Yaman.” Then said the king, “Hast thou a need we may fulfil to thee; for indeed thou hast strong claims to our favour after that which thou didst in the matter of Hodhayfah and his folk.” And he commanded to cast over him a mantle of Egyptian satin, worth an hundred dinars. He also bade his treasurer give him a thousand dinars and said to him, “O youth, take this in part of that which thou deservest of us; and if thou prolong thy sojourn with us, we will give thee slaves and servants.” Al-Abbas kissed ground and said, “O king, Allah grant thee abiding weal, I deserve not all this.” Then he put his hand to his pouch and pulling out two caskets of gold, in each of which were rubies whose value none could estimate, gave them to the king, saying, “O king, Allah cause thy welfare to endure, I conjure thee by that which the Almighty hath vouchsafed thee, heal my heart by accepting these two caskets, even as I have accepted thy present.” So the king accepted the two caskets and Al-Abbas took his leave and went away to the bazar. Now when the merchants saw him, they accosted him and said, “O youth, wilt thou not open thy shop?” As they were addressing him, up came a woman, having with her a boy bare of head, and stood looking at Al-Abbas, till he turned to her, when she said to him, “O youth, I conjure thee by Allah, look at this boy and have ruth on him, for that his father hath forgotten his skull-cap in the shop he lost to thee; so, an thou see fit to give it him, thy reward be with Allah! For indeed the child maketh our hearts ache with his excessive weeping, and the Lord be witness for us that, had they left us aught wherewith to buy him a cap in its stead, we had not sought it of thee.” Replied Al-Abbas, “O adornment of womankind,371 indeed, thou bespeakest me with thy fair speech and supplicatest me with thy goodly words! But bring me thy husband.” So she went and fetched the merchant, whilst a crowd collected to see what Al-Abbas would do. When the man came, he returned him the gold he had won of him, art and part, and delivered him the keys of the shop, saying, “Requite us with thy pious prayers.” Therewith the woman came up to him and kissed his feet, and in like fashion did the merchant her husband: and all who were present blessed him, and there was no talk but of Al-Abbas. Thus fared it with him; but as for the merchant, he bought him a head of sheep372 and slaughtering it, roasted it and dressed birds and other meats of various kinds and colours and purchased dessert and sweetmeats and fresh fruits; then he repaired to Al-Abbas and conjured him to accept of his hospitality and visit his home and eat of his provaunt. The Prince consented to his wishes and went with him till they came to his house, when the merchant bade him enter: so Al-Abbas went in and saw a goodly house, wherein was a handsome saloon, with a vaulted ceiling. When he entered the saloon, he found that the merchant had made ready food and dessert and perfumes, such as may not be described; and indeed he had adorned the table with sweet-scented flowers and sprinkled musk and rose-water upon the food; and he had smeared the saloon walls with ambergris and had burned aloes-wood therein and Nadd. Presently, Al-Abbas looked out of the window of the saloon and saw by its side a house of goodly ordinance, tall of base and wide of space, with rooms manifold and two upper stories crowning the whole; but therein was no sign of inhabitants. So he said to the merchant, “Verily, thou exaggeratest in doing us honour; but, by Allah, I will not eat of thy meat until thou tell me what hath caused the voidance of yonder house.” Said he, “O my lord, that was Al-Ghitrif’s house and he passed away to the mercy of the Almighty and left no heir save myself; whereupon the mansion became mine, and by Allah, an thou have a mind to sojourn in Baghdad, take up thine abode in this house, whereby thou mayst be in my neighbourhood; for that verily my heart inclineth unto thee with affection and I would have thee never absent from mine eyes, so I may still have my fill of thee and hearken to thy speech.” Al-Abbas thanked him and said to him, “By Allah, thou art indeed friendly in thy converse and thou exaggeratest in thy discourse, and needs must I sojourn in Baghdad. As for the house, if it please thee to lodge me, I will abide therein; so accept of me its price.” Therewith he put hand to his pouch and bringing out from it three hundred dinars, gave them to the merchant, who said in himself, “Unless I take his dirhams, he will not darken my doors.” So he pocketed the monies and sold him the mansion, taking witnesses against himself of the sale. Then he arose and set food before Al-Abbas and they sat down to his good things; after which he brought him dessert and sweetmeats whereof they ate their sufficiency, and when the tables were removed they washed their hands with musked rose-water and willow-water. Then the merchant brought Al-Abbas a napkin scented with the smoke of aloes-wood, on which he wiped his right hand, and said to him, “O my lord, the house is become thy house; so bid thy page transport thither the horses and arms and stuffs.” The Prince did this and the merchant rejoiced in his neighbourhood and left him not night nor day,373 so that Al-Abbas said to him, “By the Lord, we distract thee from thy livelihood.” He replied, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, name not to me aught of this, or thou wilt break my heart, for the best of traffic art thou and the best of livelihood.” So there befel straight friendship between them and all ceremony was laid aside. Meanwhile374 the king said to his Wazir, “How shall we do in the matter of yonder youth, the Yamáni, on whom we thought to confer gifts, but he hath gifted us with tenfold our largesse and more, and we know not an he be a sojourner with us or not?” Then he went into the Harim and gave the rubies to his wife Afifah, who asked him, “What is the worth of these with thee and with other of the kings?” Quoth he, “They are not to be found save with the greatest of sovrans nor can any price them with monies.” Quoth she, “Whence gottest thou them?” So he recounted to her the story of Al-Abbas from beginning to end, and she said, “By Allah, the claims of honour are imperative on us and the King hath fallen short of his devoir; for that we have not seen him bid the youth to his assembly, nor hath he seated him on his left hand.” When the king heard his wife’s words, it was as if he had been asleep and awoke; so he went forth the Harim and bade kill poultry and dress meats of every kind and colour. Moreover, he assembled all his courtiers and let bring sweetmeats and dessert and all that beseemeth the tables of kings. Then he adorned his palace and despatched after Al-Abbas a man of the chief officers of his household, who found him coming forth of the Hammam, clad in a jerkin375 of fine goats’ hair and over it a Baghdádi scarf; his waist was girt with a Rustaki376 kerchief and on his head he wore a light turband of Damietta377 stuff. The messenger wished him joy of the bath and exaggerated in doing him honour: then he said to him, “The king biddeth thee in weal.”378 “To hear is to obey,” quoth Al-Abbas and accompanied the officer to the king’s palace. Now Afifah and her daughter Mariyah were behind the curtain, both looking at him; and when he came before the sovran he saluted him and greeted him with the greeting of kings, whilst all present gazed at him and at his beauty and loveliness and perfect grace. The king seated him at the head of the table; and when Afifah saw him and considered him straitly, she said, “By the virtue of Mohammed, prince of the Apostles, this youth is of the sons of the kings and cometh not to these parts save for some noble purpose!” Then she looked at Mariyah and saw that her favour was changed, and indeed her eye-balls were as dead in her face and she turned not her gaze from Al-Abbas a twinkling of the eyes, for that the love of him had sunk deep into her heart. When the queen saw what had befallen her daughter, she feared for her from reproach concerning Al-Abbas; so she shut the casement-wicket that the Princess might not look upon him any more. Now there was a pavilion set apart for Mariyah, and therein were boudoirs and bowers, balconies and lattices, and she had with her a nurse, who served her as is the fashion with the daughters of the Kings. When the banquet was ended and the folk had dispersed, the King said to Al-Abbas, “I would fain have thee abide with me and I will buy thee a mansion, so haply we may requite thee for thy high services; and indeed imperative upon us is thy due and magnified in our eyes is thy work; and soothly we have fallen short of thy deserts in the matter of distance.”379 When the youth heard the king’s speech, he rose and sat down380 and kissing ground, returned thanks for his bounty and said, “I am the King’s thrall, wheresoever I may be, and under his eye.” Then he told him the tale of the merchant and the manner of the buying of the house, and the king said, “In very truth I would fain have had thee in my neighbourhood and by side of me.” Presently Al-Abbas took leave of the king and went away to his own house. Now it chanced that he passed under the palace of Mariyah, the king’s daughter, and she was sitting at a casement. He happened to look round and his eyes met those of the Princess, whereupon his wit departed and he was ready to swoon away, whilst his colour changed, and he said, “Verily, we are Allah’s and unto Him are we returning!” But he feared for himself lest severance betide him; so he concealed his secret and discovered not his case to any of the creatures of Allah Almighty. When he reached his quarters, his page Amir said to him, “I seek refuge for thee with Allah, O my lord, from change of colour! Hath there betided thee a pain from the Lord of All-might or aught of vexation? In good sooth, sickness hath an end and patience doeth away trouble.” But the Prince returned him no answer. Then he brought out ink-case381 and paper and wrote these couplets:
I cry (and mine’s a frame that pines alway),
A mind which fires of passion e’er waylay;
And eyeballs never tasting sweets of sleep;
Yet Fortune spare its cause I ever pray!
While from world-perfidy and parting I
Like Bishram with Hind,382 that well-loved may; —
Yea, grown a bye-word ‘mid the folk but aye
Spend life unwinning wish or night or day.
“Ah say, wots she my love when her I spied
At the high lattice shedding sunlike ray?”
Her glances, keener than the brand when bared
Cleave soul of man nor ever ‘scapes her prey:
I looked on her in lattice pierced aloft
When bare her cheat of veil that slipped away;
And shot me thence a shaft my liver pierced
When thrall to care and dire despair I lay
Knowst thou, O Fawn o’ the palace, how for thee
I fared from farness o’er the lands astray?
Then read my writ, dear friends, and show some ruth
To wight who wones black-faced, distraught, sans stay!
And when he ended inditing, he folded up the letter. Now the merchant’s wife aforesaid, who was the nurse of the king’s daughter, was watching him from a window, unknown of him, and when she saw him writing and reciting, she knew that some rare tale attached to him; so she went in to him and said, “Peace be with thee, O afflicted wight, who acquaintest not leach with thy plight! Verily, thou exposest thy life to grievous blight. I conjure thee by the virtue of Him who hath afflicted thee and with the constraint of love-liking hath stricken thee, that thou acquaint me with thine affair and disclose to me the truth of thy secret; for that indeed I have heard from thee verses which trouble the mind and melt the body.” Accordingly he acquainted her with his case and enjoined her to secrecy, whereof she consented, saying, “What shall be the recompense of whoso goeth with thy letter and bringeth thee its reply?” He bowed his head for shame before her and was silent; and she said to him, “Raise thy head and give me thy writ”: so he gave her the letter and she hent it and carrying it to the Princess, said to her, “Take this epistle and give me its answer.” Now the dearest of all things to Mariyah was the recitation of poesy and verses and linked rhymes and the twanging of lute-strings, and she was versed in all tongues; wherefore she took the writ and opening it, read that which was therein and understood its purport. Then she threw it to the ground and cried, “O nurse, I have no answer to make to this letter.” Quoth the nurse, “Indeed, this is weakness in thee and a reproach to thee, for that the people of the world have heard of thee and commend thee for keenness of wit and understanding; so do thou return him an answer, such as shall trick his heart and tire his soul.” Quoth she, “O nurse, who may be the man who presumeth upon me with this correspondence? Haply ’tis the stranger youth who gave my father the rubies.” The woman said, “It is himself,” and Mariyah said, “I will answer his letter in such fashion that thou shalt not bring me other than it.” Cried the nurse, “So be it.”383 Thereupon the Princess called for ink-case and paper and wrote these couplets:—
Thou art bold in the copy thou sentest! May be
’Twill increase the dule foreign wight must dree!
Thou hast spied me with glance that bequeaths thee woe
Ah! far is thy hope, a mere foreigner’s plea!
Who art thou, poor freke, that wouldst win my love
Wi’ thy verse? What seeks thine insanity?
An thou hope for my favours and greed therefor;
Where find thee a leach for such foolish gree?
Then rhyme-linking leave and fool-like be not
Hanged to Cross at the doorway of ignomy!
Deem not that to thee I incline, O youth!
‘Mid the Sons of the Path384 is no place for me.
Thou art homeless waif in the wide wide world;
So return thee home where they keen for thee:385
Leave verse-spouting, O thou who a-wold dost wone,
Or minstrel shall name thee in lay and glee:
How many a friend who would meet his love
Is baulked when the goal is right clear to see!
So begone and ne’er grieve for what canst not win
Albe time be near, yet thy grasp ’twill flee.
Now such is my say and the tale I’d tell;
So master my meaning and — fare thee well!
When Mariyah had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter and delivered it to the nurse, who hent it and went with it to Al-Abbas. When she gave it to him, he took it and breaking it open, read it and comprehended its contents; and when he reached the end of it, he swooned away. After awhile, he came to himself and cried, “Praise be to Allah who hath caused her return a reply to my writ! Canst thou carry her another missive, and with Allah Almighty be thy requital?” Said she, “And what shall letters profit thee, seeing that such is her reply;” but he said, “Peradventure, she may yet be softened.” Then he took ink-case and paper and wrote these couplets:—
Reached me the writ and what therein didst write,
Whence grew my pain and bane and blight:
I read the marvel-lines made wax my love
And wore my body out till slightest slight.386
Would Heaven ye wot the whole I bear for love
Of you, with vitals clean for you undight!
And all I do t’ outdrive you from my thought
‘Vails naught and ‘gainst th’ obsession loses might:
Couldst for thy lover feel ’twould ease his soul;
E’en thy dear Phantom would his sprite delight!
Then on my weakness lay not coyness-load
Nor in such breach of troth be traitor-wight:
And, weet ye well, for this your land I fared
Hoping to ‘joy the union-boon forthright:
How many a stony wold for this I spanned;
How oft I waked when men kept watch o’night!
To fare fro’ another land for sight of you
Love bade, while length of way forbade my sprite:
So by His name387 who molt my frame, have ruth,
And quench the flames thy love in me did light:
Thou fillest, arrayed with glory’s robes and rays,
Heaven’s stars with joy and Luna with despight.
Then who dare chide or blame me for my love
Of one that can all Beauty’s boons unite?
When Al-Abbas had made an end of his verses, he folded the letter and delivering it to the nurse, charged her keep the secret. So she took it and carrying it to Mariyah, gave it to her. The Princess broke it open and read it and apprehended its purport; then cried she, “By Allah, O nurse, my heart is chagrined with exceeding chagrin, never knew I a sorer, because of this correspondence and of these verses.” And the nurse made answer to her “O my lady, thou art in thy dwelling and thy palace and thy heart is void of care; so return to him a reply and reck not.” Accordingly, the Princess called for ink-case and paper and wrote these couplets:—
Ho thou who wouldst vaunt thee of cark and care;
How many love-molten, tryst-craving be there?
An hast wandered the wold in the murks of night
Bound afar and anear on the tracks to fare,
And to eyne hast forbidden the sweets of sleep,
Borne by Devils and Marids to dangerous lair;
And beggest my boons, O in tribe-land388 homed
And to urge thy wish and desire wouldst dare;
Now, woo Patience fair, an thou bear in mind
What The Ruthful promised to patient prayer!389
How many a king for my sake hath vied,
Craving love and in marriage with me to pair.
Al-Nabhan sent, when a-wooing me,
Camels baled with musk and Nadd scenting air.
They brought camphor in boxes and like thereof
Of pearls and rubies that countless were;
Brought pregnant lasses and negro-lads,
Blood steeds and arms and gear rich and rare;
Brought us raiment of silk and of sendal sheen,
And came courting us but no bride he bare:
Nor could win his wish, for I ‘bode content
To part with far parting and love forswear;
So for me greed not, O thou stranger wight
Lest thou come to ruin and dire despair!
When she had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter and delivered it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to Al-Abbas. He broke it open and read it and comprehended its contents; then took ink-case and paper and wrote these improvised couplets:—
Thou hast told me the tale of the Kings, and of them
Each was rending lion, a furious foe:
And thou stolest the wits of me, all of them
And shotst me with shaft of thy magic bow:
Thou hast boasted of slaves and of steeds and wealth;
And of beauteous lasses ne’er man did know;
How presents in mighty store didst spurn,
And disdainedst lovers both high and low:
Then I followed their tracks in desire for thee,
With naught save my scymitar keen of blow;
Nor slaves nor camels that run have I;
Nor slave-girls the litters enveil, ah, no!
But grant me union and soon shalt sight
My trenchant blade with the foeman’s woe;
Shalt see the horsemen engird Baghdad
Like clouds that wall the whole world below,
Obeying behests which to them I deal
And hearing the words to the foes I throw.
An of negro chattels ten thousand head
Wouldst have, or Kings who be proud and prow
Or chargers led for thee day by day
And virgin girls high of bosom, lo!
Al-Yaman land my command doth bear
And my biting blade to my foes I show.
I have left this all for the sake of thee,
Left Aziz and my kinsmen for ever-mo’e;
And made Al-Irák making way to thee
Under nightly murks over rocks arow;
When the couriers brought me account of thee
Thy beauty, perfection, and sunny glow,
Then I sent thee verses whose very sound
Burns the heart of shame with a fiery throe;
Yet the world with falsehood hath falsed me,
Though Fortune was never so false as thou,
Who dubbest me stranger and homeless one
A witless fool and a slave-girl’s son!
Then he folded the letter and committed it to the nurse and gave her five hundred dinars, saying, “Accept this from me, for by Allah thou hast indeed wearied thyself between us.” She replied, “By Allah, O my lord, my aim is to bring about forgathering between you, though I lose that which my right hand possesseth.” And he said, “May the Lord of All-might requite thee with good!” Then she carried the letter to Mariyah and said to her, “Take this letter; haply it may be the end of the correspondence.” So she took it and breaking it open, read it, and when she had made an end of it, she turned to the nurse and said to her, “This one foisteth lies upon me and asserteth unto me that he hath cities and horsemen and footmen at his command and submitting to his allegiance; and he wisheth of me that which he shall not win; for thou knowest, O nurse, that kings’ sons have sought me in marriage, with presents and rarities; but I have paid no heed unto aught of this; how, then, shall I accept of this fellow, who is the ignoramus of his time and possesseth naught save two caskets of rubies, which he gave to my sire, and indeed he hath taken up his abode in the house of Al-Ghitrif and abideth without silver or gold? Wherefore, Allah upon thee, O nurse, return to him and cut off his hope of me.” Accordingly the nurse rejoined Al-Abbas, without letter or answer; and when she came in to him, he looked at her and saw that she was troubled, and he noted the marks of anger on her face; so he said to her, “What is this plight?” Quoth she, “I cannot set forth to thee that which Mariyah said; for indeed she charged me return to thee without writ or reply.” Quoth he, “O nurse of kings, I would have thee carry her this letter and return not to her without it.” Then he took ink-case and paper and wrote these couplets:—
My secret now to men is known though hidden well and true
By me: enough is that I have of love and love of you:
I left familiars, friends, and kin to weep the loss of me
With floods of tears which like the tide aye flowed and flowed anew:
Then, left my home myself I bore to Baghdad-town one day,
When parting drave me there his pride and cruelty to rue:
I have indeed drained all the bowl whose draught repression390 was
Handed by friend who bitter gourd391 therein for drinking threw.
And, oft as strove I to enjoin the ways of troth and faith,
So often on refusal’s path he left my soul to sue.
Indeed my body molten is with care I’m doomPd dree;
And yet I hoped relenting and to win some grace, my due.
But wrong and rigour waxed on me and changed to worse my case;
And love hath left me weeping-eyed for woes that aye pursue.
How long must I keep watch for you throughout the nightly gloom?
How many a path of pining pace and garb of grief endue?
And you, what while you joy your sleep, your restful pleasant sleep,
Reck naught of sorrow and of shame that to your friend accrue:
For wakefulness I watched the stars before the peep o’ day,
Praying that union with my dear in bliss my soul imbrue;
Indeed the throes of long desire laid waste my frame and I
Rise every morn in weaker plight with hopes e’er fewer few:
“Be not” (I say) “so hard of heart!” for did you only deign
In phantom guise to visit me ’twere joy enough to view.
But when ye saw my writ ye grudged to me the smallest boon
And cast adown the flag of faith though well my troth ye knew;
Nor aught of answer you vouchsafe, albe you wot full well
The words therein address the heart and pierce the spirit through.
You deemed yourself all too secure for changes of the days
And of the far and near alike you ever careless grew.
Hadst thou (dear maid) been doomed like me to woes, forsure hadst felt
The lowe of love and Laza-hell which paring doth enmew;
Yet soon shalt suffer torments such as those from thee I bear
And storm of palpitation-pangs in vitals thine shall brew:
Yea, thou shalt taste the bitter smack of charges false and foul,
And public make the privacy best hid from meddling crew;
And he thou lovest shall approve him hard of heart and soul
And heedless of the shifts of Time thy very life undo.
Then hear the fond Salam I send and wish thee every day
While swayeth spray and sparkleth star all good thy life ensue!
When Al-Abbas had made an end of his verses, he folded the scroll and gave it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to Mariyah. When she came into the Princess’s presence, she saluted her; but Mariyah returned not her salutation and she said, “O my lady, how hard is thy heart that thou grudgest to return the salam! Accept this letter, because ’tis the last that shall come to thee from him.” Quoth Mariyah, “Take my warning and never again enter my palace, or ’twill be the cause of thy destruction; for I am certified that thou purposest my disgrace. So get thee gone from me.” And she bade beat the nurse who went forth fleeing from her presence, changed of colour and ‘wildered of wits, and gave not over going till she came to the house of Al-Abbas. When the Prince saw her in this plight, he became like a sleeper awakened and cried to her, “What hath befallen thee? Acquaint me with thy case.” She replied, “Allah upon thee, nevermore send me to Mariyah, and do thou protect me, so the Lord protect thee from the fires of Gehenna!” Then she related to him that which had betided her with Mariyah which when Al-Abbas heard, there took him the pride and high spirit of the generous and this was grievous to him. The love of Mariyah fled forth of his heart and he said to the nurse, “How much hadst thou of Mariyah every month?” Quoth she, “Ten dinars” and quoth he, “Be not concerned.” Then he put hand to pouch and bringing out two hundred ducats, gave them to her and said,“Take this wage for a whole year and turn not again to serve anyone of the folk. When the twelvemonth shall have passed away, I will give thee a two years’ wage, for that thou hast wearied thyself with us and on account of the cutting off the tie which bound thee to Mariyah.” Also he gifted her with a complete suit of clothes and raising his head to her, said, “When thou toldest me that which Mariyah had done with thee, Allah uprooted the love of her from out my heart, and never again will she occur to my thought; so extolled be He who turneth hearts and eyes! ’Twas she who was the cause of my coming out from Al-Yaman, and now the time is past for which I engaged with my folk and I fear lest my father levy his forces and ride forth in quest of me, for that he hath no child other than myself nor can he brook to be parted from me; and in like way ’tis with my mother.” When the nurse heard his words, she asked him, “O my lord, and which of the kings is thy sire?” He answered, saying, “My father is Al-Aziz, lord of Al-Yaman, and Nubia and the Islands392 of the Banu Kahtán, and the Two Sanctuaries393 (Allah of All-might have them in His keeping!), and whenever he taketh horse, there ride with him an hundred and twenty and four thousand horsemen, each and every smiters with the sword, besides attendants and servants and followers, all of whom give ear to my word and obey my bidding.” Asked the nurse, “Why, then, O my lord, didst thou conceal the secret of thy rank and lineage and passedst thyself off for a foreigner and a wayfarer? Alas for our disgrace before thee by reason of our shortcoming in rendering thee thy due! What shall be our excuse with thee, and thou of the sons of the kings?” But he rejoined, “By Allah, thou hast not fallen short! Indeed, ’tis incumbent on me to requite thee, what while I live, though from thee I be far distant.” Then he called his man Amir and said to him, “Saddle the steeds.” When the nurse heard his words and indeed she saw that Amir brought him the horses and they were resolved upon departure, the tears ran down upon her cheeks and she said to him, “By Allah, thy separation is saddening to me, O coolth of the eye!” Then quoth she, “Where is the goal of thine intent, so we may know thy news and solace ourselves with thy report?” Quoth he, “I go hence to visit ‘Akíl, the son of my paternal uncle, for that he hath his sojourn in the camp of Kundah bin Hishám, and these twenty years have I not seen him nor hath he seen me; so I purpose to repair to him and discover his news and return. Then will I go hence to Al-Yaman, Inshallah!” So saying, he took leave of the nurse and her husband and set out, intending for ‘Akil, the son of his father’s brother. Now there was between Baghdad and ‘Akíl’s abiding-place forty days’ journey; so Al-Abbas settled himself on the back of his steed and his servant Amir mounted also and they fared forth on their way. Presently, Al-Abbas turned right and left and recited these couplets,
“I’m the singular knight and my peers I slay!
I lay low the foe and his whole array:
I fare me to visit my friend Al-Akíl,
And in safety and Allah-lauds,394 shorten the way;
And roll up the width of the wold while still
Hears ‘Amir my word or in earnest or play.395
I spring with the spring of a lynx or a pard
Upon whoso dareth our course to stay;
O’erthrow him in ruin and abject shame,
Make him drain the death-cup in fatal fray.
My lance is long with its steely blade;
A brand keen-grided, thin-edged I sway:
With a stroke an it fell on a towering hill
Of the hardest stone, this would cleave in tway:
I lead no troops, nor seek aid save God’s,
The creating Lord (to whom laud alwBy!)
On Whom I rely in adventures all
And Who pardoneth lâches of freeman and thrall.”
Then they fell a-faring night and day, and as they went, behold, they sighted a camp of the camps of the Arabs. So Al-Abbas enquired thereof and was told that it was the camp of the Banu Zohrah. Now there were around them herds and flocks, such as filled the earth, and they were enemies to Al-Akil, the cousin of Al-Abbas, upon whom they made daily raids and took his cattle, wherefore he used to pay them tribute every year because he lacked power to cope wth them. When Al-Abbas came to the skirts of the camp, he dismounted from his destrier and his servant Amir also dismounted; and they set down the provaunt and ate their sufficiency and rested an hour of the day. Then said the Prince to his page, “Fetch water from the well and give the horses to drink and draw up a supply for us in thy bag,396 by way of provision for the road.” So Amir took the water-skin and made for the well; but, when he came there, behold, two young men slaves were leading gazelles, and when they saw him, they said to him, “Whither wendest thou, O youth, and of which of the Arabs art thou?” Quoth he, “Harkye, lads, fill me my water-skin, for that I am a stranger astray and a farer of the way, and I have a comrade who awaiteth me.” Quoth the thralls, “Thou art no wayfarer, but a spy from Al-Akíl’s camp.” Then they took him and carried him to their king Zuhayr bin Shabib; and when he came before him, he said to him, “Of which of the Arabs art thou?” Quoth Amir, “I am a wayfarer.” So Zuhayr said, “Whence comest thou and whither wendest thou?” and Amir replied, “I am on my way to Al-Akíl.” When he named Al-Akíl, those who were present were excited; but Zuhayr signed to them with his eyes and asked him, “What is thine errand with Al-Akíl?” and he answered, “We would fain see him, my friend and I.” As soon as Zuhayr heard his words, he bade smite his neck;’ but his Wazir said to him, “Slay him not, till his friend be present.” So he commanded the two slaves to fetch his friend; whereupon they repaired to Al-Abbas and called to him, saying, “O youth, answer the summons of King Zuhayr.” He enquired, “What would the king with me?” and they replied, “We know not.” Quoth he, “Who gave the king news of me?” and quoth they, “We went to draw water, and found a man by the well. So we questioned him of his case, but he would not acquaint us therewith, wherefore we carried him willy-nilly to King Zuhayr, who asked him of his adventure and he told him that he was going to Al-Akíl. Now Al-Akíl is the king’s enemy and he intendeth to betake himself to his camp and make prize of his offspring, and cut off his traces.” Said Al-Abbas, “And what hath Al-Akíl done with King Zuhayr?” They replied. “He engaged for himself that he would bring the King every year a thousand dinars and a thousand she-camels, besides a thousand head of thoroughbred steeds and two hundred black slaves and fifty hand-maids; but it hath reached the king that Al-Akíl purposeth to give naught of this; wherefore he is minded to go to him. So hasten thou with us, ere the King be wroth with thee and with us.” Then said Al-Abbas to them, “O youths, sit by my weapons and my stallion till I return.” But they said, “By Allah, thou prolongest discourse with that which beseemeth not of words! Make haste, or we will go with thy head, for indeed the King purposeth to slay thee and to slay thy comrade and take that which is with you.” When the Prince heard this, his skin bristled with rage and he cried out at them with a cry which made them tremble. Then he sprang upon his horse and settling himself in the saddle, galloped till he came to the King’s assembly, when he shouted at the top of his voice, saying, “To horse, O horsemen!” and couched his spear at the pavilion wherein was Zuhayr. Now there were about the King a thousand smiters with the sword; but Al-Abbas charged home upon them and dispersed them from around him; and there abode none in the tent save Zuhayr and his Wazir. Then Al-Abbas came up to the door of the tent wherein were four-and-twenty golden doves; so he took them, after he had tumbled them down with the end of his lance. Then he called out saying, “Ho, Zuhayr! Doth it not suffice thee that thou hast abated Al-Akil’s repute, but thou art minded to abate that of those who sojourn round about him? Knowest thou not that he is of the lieutenants of Kundah bin Hisham of the Banu Shayban, a man renowned for prowess? Indeed, greed of his gain hath entered into thee and envy of him hath gotten the mastery of thee. Doth it not suffice thee that thou hast orphaned his children397 and slain his men? By the virtue of Mustafa, the Chosen Prophet, I will make thee drain the cup of death!” So saying. he bared his brand and smiting Zuhayr on his shoulder-blade caused the steel issue gleaming from his throat tendons; then he smote the Wazir and clove his crown asunder. As he was thus, behold, Amir called out to him and said, “O my lord, come help me, or I be a dead man!” So Al-Abbas went up to him guided by his voice, and found him cast down on his back and chained with four chains to four pickets of iron.398 He loosed his bonds and said to him, “Go in front of me, O Amir.” So he fared on before him a little, and presently they looked, and, behold, horsemen were making to Zuhayr’s succour, and they numbered twelve thousand riders led by Sahl bin Ka’ab bestriding a coal-black steed. He charged upon Amir, who fled from him, then upon Al-Abbas, who said, “O Amir, hold fast to my horse and guard my back.” The page did as he bade him, whereupon Al-Abbas cried out at the folk and falling upon them, overthrew their braves and slew of them some two thousand riders, whilst not one of them knew what was to do nor with whom he fought. Then said one of them to other, “Verily, the King is slain; so with whom do we wage war? Indeed ye flee from him; but ’twere better ye enter under his banners, or not one of you will be saved.” Thereupon all dismounted and doffing that which was upon them of war-gear, came before Al-Abbas and proffered him allegiance and sued for his protection. So he withheld his brand from them and bade them gather together the spoils. Then he took the riches and the slaves and the camels, and they all became his lieges and his retainers, to the number (according to that which is reported) of fifty thousand horses. Furthermore, the folk heard of him and flocked to him from all sides; whereupon he divided the loot amongst them and gave largesse and dwelt thus three days, and there came gifts to him. After this he bade march for Al-Akil’s abiding place; so they fared on six days and on the seventh they sighted the camp. Al-Abbas bade his man Amir precede him and give Al-Akil the good news of his cousin’s coming; so he rode on to the camp and, going in to Al-Akil, acquainted him with the glad tidings of Zuhayr’s slaughter and the conquest of his clan.399 Al-Akil rejoiced in the coming of Al-Abbas and the slaughter of his enemy and all in his camp rejoiced also and cast robes of honour upon Amir; while Al-Akil bade go forth to meet Al-Abbas, and commanded that none, great or small, freeman or slave, should tarry behind. So they did his bidding and going forth all, met Al-Abbas at three parasangs400 distance from the camp; and when they met him, they dismounted from their horses and Al-Akil and he embraced and clapped palm to palm.401 Then rejoicing in the coming of Al-Abbas and the killing of their foeman, they returned to the camp, where tents were pitched for the new-comers and skin-rugs spread and game slain and beasts slaughtered and royal guest-meals spread; and after this fashion they abode twenty days in the enjoyment of all delight of life. On this wise fared it with Al-Abbas and his cousin Al-Akil; but as regards King Al-Aziz, when his son left him, he was desolated for him with exceeding desolation, both he and his mother; and when tidings of him tarried long and the tryst-time passed without his returning, the king caused public proclamation to be made, commanding all his troops to get ready to mount and ride forth in quest of his son Al-Abbas, at the end of three days, after which no cause of hindrance or excuse would be admitted to any. So on the fourth day, the king bade muster the troops who numbered four-and-twenty thousand horse, besides servants and followers. Accordingly, they reared the standards and the kettle-drums beat the general and the king set out with his power intending for Baghdad; nor did he cease to press forward with all diligence, till he came within half a day’s journey of the city, when he bade his army encamp on the Green Meadow. There they pitched the tents, till the lowland was straitened with them, and set up for the king a pavilion of green brocade, purfled with pearls and precious stones. When Al-Aziz had sat awhile, he summoned the Mamelukes of his son Al-Abbas, and they were five-and-twenty in number besides ten slave-girls, as they were moons, five of whom the king had brought with him and other five he had left with the prince’s mother. When the Mamelukes came before him, he cast over each and every of them a mantle of green brocade and bade them mount similar horses of one and the same fashion and enter Baghdad and ask after their lord Al-Abbas. So they rode into the city and passed through the market-streets and there remained in Baghdad nor old man nor boy but came forth to gaze on them and divert himself with the sight of their beauty and loveliness and the seemliness of their semblance and the goodliness of their garments and horses, for all were even as moons. They gave not over going till they came to the palace,402 where they halted, and the king looked at them and seeing their beauty and the brilliancy of their apparel and the brightness of their faces, said, “Would Heaven I knew of which of the tribes these are!” And he bade the Eunuch bring him news of them. The castrato went out to them and questioned them of their case, whereto they replied, “Return to thy lord and enquire of him concerning Prince Al-Abbas, an he have come unto him, for that he left his sire King Al-Aziz a full-told year ago, and indeed longing for him troubleth the King and he hath levied a division of his army and his guards and is come forth in quest of his son, so haply he may light upon tidings of him.” Quoth the Eunuch, “Is there amongst you a brother of his or a son?” and quoth they, “Nay, by Allah, but we are all his Mamelukes and the purchased of his money, and his sire Al-Aziz hath sent us to make enquiry of him. Do thou go to thy lord and question him of the Prince and return to us with that which he shall answer thee.” Asked the Eunuch, “And where is King Al-Aziz?” and they answered, “He is encamped in the Green Meadow.”403 The Eunuch returned and told the king, who said, “Indeed we have been unduly negligent with regard to Al-Abbas. What shall be our excuse with the King? By Allah, my soul suggested to me that the youth was of the sons of the kings!” His wife, the Lady Afifah, saw him lamenting for his neglect of Al-Abbas, and said to him, “O King, what is it thou regrettest with this mighty regret?” Quoth he, “Thou knowest the stranger youth, who gifted us with the rubies?” Quoth she, “Assuredly;” and he, “Yonder youths, who have halted in the palace court, are his Mamelukes, and his father, King Al-Aziz, lord of Al-Yaman, hath pitched his camp on the Green Meadow; for he is come with his army to seek him, and the number of his troops is four-and-twenty thousand horsemen.” Then he went out from her, and when she heard his words, she wept sore for him and had compassion on his case and sent after him, counselling him to summon the Mamelukes and lodge them in the palace and entertain them. The king hearkened to her rede and despatching the Eunuch for the Mamelukes, assigned unto them a lodging and said to them, “Have patience, till the King give you tidings of your lord Al-Abbas.” When they heard his words, their eyes ran over with a rush of tears, of their mighty longing for the sight of their lord. Then the King bade the Oueen enter the private chamber opening upon the throne-room and let down the curtain before the door, so she might see and not be seen. She did this and he summoned them to his presence; and, when they stood before him, they kissed ground to do him honour, and showed forth their courtly breeding and magnified his dignity. He ordered them to sit, but they refused, till he conjured them by their lord Al-Abbas: accordingly they sat down and he bade set before them food of various kinds and fruits and sweetmeats. Now within the Lady Afifah’s palace was a souterrain communicating with the pavilion of the Princess Mariyah: so the Queen sent after her and she came to her, whereupon she made her stand behind the curtain and gave her to know that Al-Abbas was son to the King of Al-Yaman and that these were his Mamelukes: she also told her that the Prince’s father had levied his troops and was come with his army in quest of him and that he had pitched his camp on the Green Meadow and had despatched these Mamelukes to make enquiry of their lord. Then Mariyah abode looking upon them and upon their beauty and loveliness and the goodliness of their raiment, till they had eaten their fill of food and the tables were removed; whereupon the King recounted to them the story of Al-Abbas and they took leave of him and went their ways. So fortuned it with the Mamelukes; but as for the Princess Mariyah, when she returned to her palace, she bethought herself concerning the affair of Al-Abbas repenting her of what she had done; and the love of him took root in her heart. And, when the night darkened upon her, she dismissed all her women and bringing out the letters, to wit, those which Al-Abbas had written her, fell to reading them and weeping. She left not weeping her night long, and when she arose in the morning. she called a damsel of her slave-girls, Shafíkah by name, and said to her, “O damsel, I purpose to discover to thee mine affair and I charge thee keep my secret, which is that thou betake thyself to the house of the nurse, who used to serve me, and fetch her to me, for that I have grave need of her.” Accordingly, Shafikah went out and repairing to the nurse’s house, entered and found her clad in clothing other and richer than what she had whilome been wont to wear. So she saluted her and asked her, “Whence hadst thou this dress, than which there is no goodlier?” Answered the nurse, “O Shafikah, thou deemest that I have seen no good save of thy mistress; but, by Allah, had I endeavoured for her destruction, I had acted righteously, seeing that she did with me what she did and bade the Eunuch beat me, without offence by me offered: so tell her that he, on whose behalf I bestirred myself with her, hath made me independent of her and her humours, for he hath habited me in this habit and given me two hundred and fifty dinars and promised me the like every year and charged me to serve none of the folk.” Quoth Shafikah, “My mistress hath a need for thee; so come thou with me and I will engage to restore thee to thy dwelling in safety and satisfaction.” But quoth the nurse, “Indeed her palace is become unlawful and forbidden to me404 and never again will I enter therein, for that Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) of His favour and bounty hath rendered me independent of her.” Presently Shafikah returned to her mistress and acquainted her with the nurse’s words and that wherein she was of prosperity; whereupon Mariyah confessed her unmannerly dealing with her and repented when repentance profited her not; and she abode in that her case days and nights, whilst the fire of longing flamed in her heart. On this wise happened it to her; but as regards Al-Abbas, he tarried with his cousin Al-Akil twenty days, after which he made ready for the journey to Baghdad and bidding bring the booty he had taken from King Zuhayr, divided it between himself and his cousin. Then he sent out a-marching Baghdad-wards and when he came within two days’ journey of the city, he summoned his servant Amir and said to him, “Mount thy charger and forego me with the caravan and the cattle.” So Amir took horse and fared on till he came to Baghdad, and the season of his entering was the first of the day; nor was there in the city little child or old greybeard but came forth to divert himself with gazing on those flocks and herds and upon the beauty of those slave-girls; and their wits were wildered at what they saw. Soon afterwards the news reached the king that the young man Al-Abbas, who had gone forth from him, was come back with booty and rarities and black slaves and a conquering host and had taken up his sojourn without the city, whilst his servant Amir was presently come to Baghdad, so he might get ready for his lord dwelling-places wherein he should take up his abode. When the King heard these tidings of Amir, he sent for him and caused bring him before him; and when he entered his presence, he kissed the ground and saluted with the salam and showed his fine breeding and greeted him with the goodliest of greetings. The King bade him raise his head and, this done, questioned him of his lord Al-Abbas; whereupon he acquainted him with his adventures and told him that which had betided him with King Zuhayr and of the army that was become at his command and of the spoil he had secured. He also gave him to know that Al-Abbas was to arrive on the morrow, and with him more than fifty thousand cavatiers, obedient to his orders. When the king heard his words, he bade decorate Baghdad and commanded the citizens to equip themselves with the richest of their apparel, in honour of the coming of Al-Abbas. Furthermore, he sent to give King Al-Aziz the glad tidings of his son’s return and informed him of all which he had heard from the Prince’s servant. When the news reached King Al-Aziz, he joyed with exceeding joy in the approach of his son and straightway took horse, he and all his host, while the trumpets blared and the musicians played, so that the earth quaked and Baghdad also trembled, and it was a notable day. When Mariyah beheld all this, she repented in all possible penitence of that which she had done against Al-Abbas and the fires of desire raged in her vitals. Meanwhile, the troops405 sallied forth of Baghdad and went out to meet those of Al-Abbas, who had halted in a garth called the Green Island. When he espied the approaching host, he strained his sight and, seeing horsemen coming and troops and footmen he knew not, said to those about him, “Among yonder troops are flags and banners of various kinds; but, as for the great green standard that ye see, ’tis the standard of my sire, the which is reserved to him and never displayed save over his head, and thus I know that he himself is come out in quest of me.” And he was certified of this, he and his troops. So he fared on towards them and when he drew near them, he knew them and they knew him; whereupon they lighted down from their horses and saluting him, gave him joy of his safety and the folk flocked to him. When he came to his father, they embraced and each greeted other a long time, whilst neither of them could utter a word, for the greatness of that which betided them of joy in reunion. Then Al-Abbas bade the folk take horse; so they mounted and his Mamelukes surrounded him and they entered Baghdad on the most splendid wise and in the highest honour and glory. Now the wife of the shopkeeper, that is, the nurse, came out, with the rest of those who flocked forth, to divert herself with gazing upon the show, and when she saw Al-Abbas and beheld his beauty and the beauty of his host and that which he had brought back with him of herds and slave-girls, Mamelukes and negroes, she improvised and recited these couplets,
“Al-Abbás from the side of Akíl is come;
Caravans and steeds he hath plunderPd:
Yea; horses he brought of pure blood, whose necks
Ring with collars like anklets wher’er they are led.
With domPd hoofs they pour torrent-like,
As they prance through dust on the level stead:
And bestriding their saddles come men of war,
Whose fingers play on the kettle drum’s head:
And couched are their lances that bear the points
Keen grided, which fill every soul with dread:
Who wi’ them would fence draweth down his death
For one deadly lunge soon shall do him dead:
Charge, comrades, charge ye and give me joy,
Saying, ‘Welcome to thee, O our dear comrBde!’
And who joys at his meeting shall ‘joy delight
Of large gifts when he from his steed shall ‘light.”
When the troops entered Baghdad, each of them alighted in his tent, whilst Al-Abbas encamped apart on a place near the Tigris and issued orders to slaughter for the soldiers, each day, that which should suffice them of oxen and sheep and to bake them bread and spread the tables: so the folk ceased not to come to him and eat of his banquet. Furthermore, all the country-people flocked to him with presents and rarities and he requited them many times the like of their gifts, so that the lands were filled with his renown and the fame of him was bruited abroad among the habitants of wold and town. Then, as soon as he rode to the house he had bought, the shopkeeper and his wife came to him and gave him joy of his safety; whereupon he ordered them three head of swift steeds and thoroughbred and ten dromedaries and an hundred head of sheep and clad them both in costly robes of honour. Presently he chose out ten slave-girls and ten negro slaves and fifty mares and the like number of she-camels and three hundred of sheep, together with twenty ounces of musk and as many of camphor, and sent all this to the King of Baghdad. When the present came to Ins bin Kays, his wit fled for joy and he was perplexed wherewith to requite him. Al-Abbas also gave gifts and largesse and bestowed robes of honour upon noble and simple, each after the measure of his degree, save only Mariyah; for to her indeed he sent nothing. This was grievous to the Princess and it irked her sore that he should not remember her; so she called her slave-girl Shafikah and said to her, “Hie thee to Al-Abbas and salute him and say to him, ‘What hindereth thee from sending my lady Mariyah her part of thy booty?’” So Shafikah betook herself to him and when she came to his door, the chamberlains refused her admission, until they should have got for her leave and permission. When she entered, Al-Abbas knew her and knew that she had somewhat of speech with him; so he dismissed his Mamelukes and asked her, “What is thine errand, O hand-maid of good?” Answered she, “O my lord, I am a slave-girl of the Princess Mariyah, who kisseth thy hands and offereth her salutation to thee. Indeed, she rejoiceth in thy safety and blameth thee for that thou breakest her heart, alone of all the folk, because thy largesse embraceth great and small, yet hast thou not remembered her with anything of thy plunder, as if thou hadst hardened thy heart against her.” Quoth he, “Extolled be He who turneth hearts! By Allah, my vitals were consumed with the love of her; and, of my longing after her I came forth to her from my mother-land and left my people and my home and my wealth, and it was with her that began the hard-heartedness and the cruelty. Natheless, for all this, I bear her no malice and there is no help but that I send her somewhat whereby she may remember me; for that I sojourn in her country but a few days, after which I set out for the land of Al-Yaman.” Then he called for a chest and thence bringing out a necklace of Greek workmanship, worth a thousand dinars, wrapped it in a mantle of Greek silk, set with pearls and gems and purfled with red gold, and joined thereto a couple of caskets containing musk and amber-gris. He also put off upon the girl a mantle of Greek silk, striped with gold, wherein were divers figures and portraitures depictured, never saw eyes its like. Therewithal the girl’s wit fled for joy and she went forth from his presence and returned to her mistress. When she came in to her, she acquainted her with that which she had seen of Al-Abbas and that which was with him of servants and attendants and set out to her the loftiness of his station and gave her that which was with her. Mariyah opened the mantle, and when she saw that necklace (and indeed the place was illumined with the lustre thereof), she looked at her slave-girl and said to her, “By Allah, O Shafikah, one look at him were dearer to me than all that my hand possesseth! Oh, would Heaven I knew what I shall do, when Baghdad is empty of him and I hear of him no news!” Then she wept and calling for ink-case and paper and pen of brass, wrote these couplets:
Longsome my sorrows are; my liver’s fired with ecstasy;
And severance-shaft hath shot me through whence sorest pangs I dree:
And howso could my soul forget the love I bear to you?
You-wards my will perforce returns nor passion sets me free:
I ‘prison all desires I feel for fear of spies thereon
Yet tears that streak my cheek betray for every eye to see.
No place of rest or joy I find to bring me life-delight;
No wine tastes well, nor viands please however savoury:
Ah me! to whom shall I complain of case and seek its cure
Save unto thee whose Phantom deigns to show me sight of thee?
Then name me not or chide for aught I did in passion-stress,
With vitals gone and frame consumed by yearning-malady!
Secret I keep the fire of love which aye for severance burns;
Sworn slave406 to Love who robs my rest and wakes me cruelly:
And ceaseth not my thought to gaze upon your ghost by night,
Which falsing comes and he I love still, still unloveth me.
Would Heaven ye wist the blight that I for you are doomed to bear
For love of you, which tortures me with parting agony!
Then read between the lines I wrote, and mark and learn their sense
For such my tale, and Destiny made me an outcast be:
Learn eke the circumstance of Love and lover’s woe nor deign
Divulge its mysteries to men nor grudge its secrecy.
Then she folded the scroll and givng it to her slave-girl, bade her bear it to Al-Abbas and bring back his reply. So Shafikah took the letter and carried it to the Prince, after the doorkeeper had sought leave of him to admit her. When she came in to him, she found with him five damsels, as they were moons, clad in rich raiment and ornaments; and when he saw her, he said to her, “What is thy need, O hand-maid of good?” Presently she put out her hand to him with the writ, after she had kissed it, and he bade one of his slave-girls receive it from her.407 Then he took it from the girl and breaking the seal, read it and comprehended its contents; whereupon he cried, “Verily, we be Allah’s and unto Him we shall return!” and calling for ink-case and paper, wrote these improvised couplets:—
I wonder seeing how thy love to me
Inclined, while I in heart from love declined:
Eke wast thou wont to say in verseful writ,
“Son of the Road408 no road to me shall find!
How oft kings flocked to me with mighty men
And bales on back of Bukhti409 beast they bind:
And noble steeds of purest blood and all
They bore of choicest boons to me consigned;
Yet won no favour!” Then came I to woo
And the long tale o’ love I had designed,
I fain set forth in writ of mine, with words
Like strings of pearls in goodly line aligned:—
Set forth my sev’rance, griefs, tyrannic wrongs,
And ill device ill-suiting lover-kind.
How oft love-claimant, craving secrecy,
How oft have lovers ‘plained as sore they pined,
How many a brimming bitter cup I’ve quaffed,
And wept my woes when speech was vain as wind!
And thou:—“Be patient, ’tis thy bestest course
And choicest medicine for mortal mind!”
Then unto patience worthy praise cleave thou;
Easy of issue and be lief resigned:
Nor hope thou aught of me lest ill alloy
Or aught of dross affect my blood refined:
Such is my speech. Read, mark, and learn my say!
To what thou deemest ne’er I’ll tread the way.
Then he folded the scroll and sealing it, entrusted it to the damsel, who took it and bore it to her mistress. When the Princess read the letter and mastered its meaning, she said, “Meseemeth he recalleth bygones to me.” Then she called for pens, ink, and paper, and wrote these couplets:
Love thou didst show me till I learnt its woe
Then to the growth of grief didst severance show:
I banisht joys of slumber after you
And e’en my pillow garred my wake to grow.
How long in parting shall I pine with pain
While severance-spies410 through night watch every throe?
I’ve left my kingly couch and self withdrew
Therefrom, and taught mine eyelids sleep t’unknow:
’Twas thou didst teach me what I ne’er can bear:
Then didst thou waste my frame with parting-blow.
By oath I swear thee, blame and chide me not:
Be kind to mourner Love hath stricken low!
For parting-rigours drive him nearer still
To narrow home, ere clad in shroud for clo’:
Have ruth on me, since Love laid waste my frame,
‘Mid thralls enrolled me and lit fires that flame.
Mariyah rolled up the letter and gave it to Shafikah, bidding her bear it to Al-Abbas. Accordingly she took it and going with it to his door, proceeded to enter; but the chamberlains and serving-men forbade her, till they had obtained her leave from the Prince. When she went into him, she found him sitting in the midst of the five damsels before mentioned, whom his father had brought for him; so she gave him the letter and he tare it open and read it. Then he bade one of the damsels, whose name was Khafifah and who came from the land of China, tune her lute and sing anent separation. Thereupon she came forward and tuning her lute, played thereon in four-and-twenty modes: after which she returned to the first and sang these couplets,
“Our friends, when leaving us on parting-day,
Drave us in wolds of severance-grief to stray:
When bound the camels’ litters bearing them,
And cries of drivers urged them on the way,
Outrusht my tears, despair gat hold of me
And sleep betrayed mine eyes to wake a prey.
The day they went I wept, but showed no ruth
The severance-spy and flared the flames alwBy:
Alas for lowe o’ Love that fires me still!
Alack for pine that melts my heart away!
To whom shall I complain of care, when thou
Art gone, nor fain a-pillow head I lay?
And day by day Love’s ardours grow on me,
And far’s the tent that holds my fondest may:
O Breeze o’ Heaven, bear for me a charge
(Nor traitor-like my troth in love betray!),
Whene’er thou breathest o’er the loved one’s land
Greet him with choice salam fro’ me, I pray:
Dust him with musk and powdered ambergris
While time endures! Such is my wish for aye.”
When the damsel had made an end of her song, Al-Abbas swooned away and they sprinkled on him musked rose-water, till he recovered from his fainting-fit, when he called another damsel (now there was on her of linen and raiment and ornaments that which undoeth description, and she was a model of beauty and brightness and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace, such as shamed the crescent moon, and she was a Turkish girl from the land of the Roum and her name was Háfizah) and said to her, “O Hafizah, close thine eyes and tune thy lute and sing to us upon the days of severance.” She answered him, “To hear is to obey” and taking the lute, tightened its strings and cried out from her head,411 in a plaintive voice, and sang these couplets,
“My friends! tears flow in painful mockery,
And sick my heart from parting agony:
My frame is wasted and my vitals wrung
And love-fires grow and eyes set tear-floods free:
And when the fire burns high beneath my ribs
With tears I quench it as sad day I see.
Love left me wasted, baffled, pain-begone,
Sore frighted, butt to spying enemy:
When I recal sweet union wi’ their loves
I chase dear sleep from the sick frame o’ me.
Long as our parting lasts the rival joys
And spies with fearful prudence gain their gree.
I fear me for my sickly, langourous frame
Lest dread of parting slay me incontinently.”
When Hafizah had ended her song, Al-Abbas cried to her, “Brava! Verily, thou quickenest hearts from griefs.” Then he called another maiden of the daughters of Daylam by name Marjánah, and said to her, “O Marjanah, sing to me upon the days of parting.” She said, “Hearing and obeying,” and recited these couplets,
“‘Cleave to fair Patience! Patience ‘gendereth weal’:
Such is the rede to us all sages deal:
How oft I plained the lowe of grief and love
Mid passions cast my soul in sore unheal.
How oft I waked and drained the bitter cup
And watched the stars, nor sleep mine eyes would seal!
Enough it were an deal you grace to me
In writ a-morn and garred no hope to feel.
But Thoughts which probed its depths would sear my heart
And start from eye-brows streams that ever steal:
Nor cease I suffering baleful doom and nights
Wakeful, and heart by sorrows rent piece-meal:
But Allah purged my soul from love of you
When all knew secrets cared I not reveal.
I march to-morrow from your country and
Haply you’ll speed me nor fear aught unweal;
And, when in person you be far from us,
Would heaven we knew who shall your news reveal.
Who kens if home will e’er us two contain
In dearest life with union naught can stain!”
When Marjanah had made an end of her song, the Prince said to her, “Brava, O damsel! Indeed, thou sayest a thing which had occurred to my mind and my tongue was near to speaking it.” Then he signed to the fourth damsel, who was a Cairene, by name Sitt al-Husn, and bade her tune her lute and sing to him upon the same theme. So the Lady of Beauty tuned her lute and sang these couplets,
“Patience is blest for weal comes after woe
And all things stated time and ordinance show;
Haps the Sultan, hight Fortune, prove unjust
Shifting the times, and man excuse shall know:
Bitter ensueth sweet in law of change
And after crookedness things straightest grow.
Then guard thine honour, nor to any save
The noble knowledge of the hid bestow:
These be vicissitudes the Lord commands
Poor men endure, the sinner and the low.”
When Al-Abbas heard her make an end of her verses, they pleased him and he said to her, “Brava, O Sitt al-Husn! Indeed, thou hast done away with anxiety from my heart and hast banished the things which had occurred to my thought.” Then he sighed and signing to the fifth damsel, who was from the land of the Persians and whose name was Marzíyah (now she was the fairest of them all and the sweetest of speech and she was like unto a lustrous star, a model of beauty and loveliness and perfection and brightness and justness of shape and symmetric grace and had a face like the new moon and eyes as they were gazelle’s eyes) and said to her, “O Marziyah, come forward and tune thy lute and sing to us on the same theme, for indeed we are resolved upon faring to the land of Al-Yaman.” Now this maiden had met many of the monarchs and had foregathered with the great; so she tuned her lute and sang these couplets,
“Friend of my heart why leave thou lone and desolate these eyne?
Fair union of our lots ne’er failed this sitting-stead of mine!
And ah! who dwellest singly in the heart and sprite of me,
(Be I thy ransom!) desolate for loss of friend I pine!
By Allah! O thou richest form in charms and loveliness,
Give alms to lover who can show of patience ne’er a sign!
Alms of what past between us tway (which ne’er will I divulge)
Of privacy between us tway that man shall ne’er divine:
Grant me approval of my lord whereby t’ o’erwhelm the foe
And let my straitness pass away and doubtful thoughts malign:
Approof of thee (an gained the meed) for me high rank shall gain
And show me robed in richest weed to eyes of envy fain.”
When she had ended her song, all who were in the assembly wept for the daintiness of her delivery and the sweetness of her speech and Al-Abbas said to her, “Brava, O Marzíyah! Indeed, thou bewilderest the wits with the beauty of thy verse and the polish of thy speech.”412 All this while Shafikah abode gazing about her, and when she beheld the slave-girls of Al-Abbas and considered the charms of their clothing and the subtlety of their senses and the delicacy of their delivery her reason flew from her head. Then she sought leave of Al-Abbas and returning to her mistress Mariyah, sans letter or reply, acquainted her with what she had espied of the damsels and described to her the condition wherein he was of honour and delight, majesty, venerance and loftiness of rank. Lastly, she enlarged upon what she had seen of the slave-girls and their case and that which they had said and how they had incited Al-Abbas anent returning to his own country by the recitation of songs to the sound of the strings. When the Princess heard this her slave-girl’s report, she wept and wailed and was like to leave the world. Then she took to her pillow and said, “O Shafikah, I will inform thee of a something which is not hidden from Allah the Most High, and ’tis that thou watch over me till the Almighty decree the accomplishment of His destiny, and when my days are ended, take thou the necklace and the mantle with which Al-Abbas gifted me and return them to him. I deem not he will survive me, and if the Lord of All-might determine against him and his days come to an end, do thou give one charge to shroud us and entomb us both in one tomb.” Then her case changed and her colour waxed wan; and when Shafikah saw her mistress in this plight, she repaired to her mother and told her that the lady Mariyah refused meat and drink. Asked the Queen, “Since when hath this befallen her?” and Shafikah answered, “Since yesterday’s date;” whereat the mother was confounded and betaking herself to her daughter, that she might inquire into her case, lo and behold! found her as one dying. So she sat down at her head and Mariyah opened her eyes and seeing her mother sitting by her, sat up for shame before her. The Queen questioned her of her case and she said, “I entered the Hammam and it stupefied me and prostrated me and left in my head an exceeding pain; but I trust in Allah Al-mighty that it will cease.” When her mother went out from her, Mariyah took to chiding the damsel for that which she had done and said to her, “Verily, death were dearer to me than this; so discover thou not my affair to any and I charge thee return not to the like of this fashion.” Then she fainted and lay swooning for a whole hour, and when she came to herself, she saw Shafikah weeping over her; whereupon she pluckt the necklace from her neck and the mantle from her body and said to the damsel, “Lay them in a damask napkin and bear them to Al-Abbas and acquaint him with that wherein I am for the stress of severance and the strain of forbiddance.” So Shafikah took them and carried them to Al-Abbas, whom she found in readiness to depart, being about to take horse for Al-Yaman. She went in to him and gave him the napkin and that which was therein, and when he opened it and saw what it contained, namely, the mantle and the necklace, his chagrin was excessive and his eyes turned in his head413 and his rage shot out of them. When Shafikah saw that which betided him, she came forward and said to him, “O bountiful lord, verily my mistress returneth not the mantle and the necklace for despite; but she is about to quit the world and thou hast the best right to them.” Asked he, “And what is the cause of this?” and Shafikah answered, “Thou knowest. By Allah, never among the Arabs nor the Ajams nor among the sons of the kings saw I a harder of heart than thou! Can it be a slight matter to thee that thou troublest Mariyah’s life and causest her to mourn for herself and quit the world for the sake of thy youth?414 Thou wast the cause of her acquaintance with thee and now she departeth this life on thine account, she whose like Allah Almighty hath not created among the daughters of the kings.” When Al-Abbas heard from the damsel these words, his heart burned for Mariyah and her case was not light to him, so he said to Shafikah, “Canst thou bring me in company with her; so haply I may discover her concern and allay whatso aileth her?” Said she, “Yes, I can do that, and thine will be the bounty and the favour.” So he arose and followed her, and she preceded him, till they came to the palace. Then she opened and locked behind them four-and-twenty doors and made them fast with padlocks; and when he came to Mariyah, he found her as she were the downing sun, strown upon a Táif rug of perfumed leather,415 surrounded by cushions stuffed with ostrich down, and not a limb of her quivered. When her maid saw her in this state, she offered to cry out; but Al-Abbas said to her, “Do it not, but have patience till we discover her affair; and if Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) have decreed her death, wait till thou have opened the doors to me and I have gone forth. Then do what seemeth good to thee.” So saying, he went up to the Princess and laying his hand upon her bosom, found her heart fluttering like a doveling and the life yet hanging to her breast.416 So he placed his hand on her cheek, whereat she opened her eyes and beckoning to her maid, said to her by signs, “Who is this that treadeth my carpet and transgresseth against me?”417 “O my lady,” cried Shafikah, “this is Prince Al-Abbas, for whose sake thou forsakest the world.” When Mariyah heard speak of Al-Abbas, she raised her hand from under the coverlet and laying it upon his neck, inhaled awhile his scent. Then she sat up and her complexion returned to her and they abode talking till a third part of the night was past. Presently, the Princess turned to her handmaid and bade her fetch them somewhat of food, sweetmeats, and fruits, fresh and dry. So Shafikah brought what she desired and they ate and drank and abode on this wise without lewdness, till night went and light came. Then said Al-Abbas, “Indeed, the morn breaketh. Shall I hie to my sire and bid him go to thy father and seek thee of him in wedlock for me, in accordance with the book of Allah Almighty and the practice of His Apostle (whom may He save and assain!) so we may not enter into transgression?” And Mariyah answered, saying, “By Allah, ’tis well counselled of thee!” So he went away to his lodging and naught befel between them; and when the day lightened, she recited these couplets,
“O friends, morn-breeze with Morn draws on amain:
A Voice418 bespeaks us, gladding us with ‘plain.
Up to the convent where our friend we’ll sight
And wine more subtile than the dust419 we’ll drain;
Whereon our friend spent all the coin he owned
And made the nursling in his cloak contain;420
And, when we oped the jar, light opalline
Struck down the singers in its search waylain.
From all sides flocking came the convent-monks
Crying at top o’ voices, ‘Welcome fain!’
And we carousing sat, and cups went round,
Till rose the Venus-star o’er Eastern plain.
No shame in drinking wine, which means good cheer
And love and promise of prophetic strain!421
Ho thou, the Morn, our union sundering,
These joyous hours to fine thou dost constrain.
Show grace to us until our pleasures end,
And latest drop of joy fro’ friends we gain:
You have affection candid and sincere
And Love and joy are best of Faiths for men.”
Such was the case with Mariyah; but as regards Al-Abbas, he betook himself to his father’s camp, which was pitched on the Green Meadow, by the Tigris-side, and none might thread his way between the tents, for the dense network of the tent ropes. When the Prince reached the first of the pavilions, the guards and servants came out to meet him from all sides and walked in his service till he drew near the sitting-place of his sire, who knew of his approach. So he issued forth his marquee and coming to meet his son, kissed him and made much of him. Then they returned together to the royal pavilion and when they had seated themselves therein and the guards had taken up their station in attendance on them, the King said to Al-Abbas, “O my son, get ready thine affair, so we may go to our own land, for that the lieges in our absence are become as they were sheep lacking shepherd.” Al-Abbas looked at his father and wept till he fainted, and when he recovered from his fit, he improvised and recited these couplets,
“I embraced him,422 and straight I waxt drunk wi’ the smell
Of a fresh young branch wont in wealth to dwell.
Yea, drunken, but not by the wine; nay, ’twas
By draughts from his lips that like wine-cups well:
For Beauty wrote on his cheek’s fair page
‘Oh, his charms! take refuge fro’ danger fell!’423
Mine eyes, be easy, since him ye saw;
Nor mote nor blearness with you shall mell:
In him Beauty showeth fro’ first to fine
And bindeth on hearts bonds unfrangible:
An thou kohl thyself with his cheek of light
Thou’ll find but jasper and or in stelle:424
The chiders came to reproach me when
For him longing and pining my heart befel:
But I fear not, I end not, I turn me not
From his life, let tell-tale his tale e’en tell:
By Allah, forgetting ne’er crossed my thought
While by life-tie bound, or when ends my spell:
An I live I will live in his love, an I die
Of love and longing, I’ll cry, “Tis well!’”
Now when Al-Abbas had ended his verses, his father said to him, “I seek refuge for thee with Allah, O my son! Hast thou any want thou art powerless to win, so I may endeavour for thee therein and lavish my treasures in its quest.” Cried Al-Abbas, “O my papa, I have, indeed, an urgent need, on whose account I came forth of my motherland and left my people and my home and affronted perils and horrors and became an exile, and I trust in Allah that it may be accomplished by thy magnanimous endeavour.” Quoth the King, “And what is thy want?” and quoth Al-Abbas, “I would have thee go and ask for me to wife Mariyah, daughter of the King of Baghdad, for that my heart is distracted with love of her.” Then he recounted to his father his adventure from first to last. When the King heard this from his son, he rose to his feet and calling for his charger of parade, took horse with four-and-twenty Emirs of the chief officers of his empire. Then he betook himself to the palace of the King of Baghdad who, when he saw him coming, bade his chamberlains open the doors to them and going down himself to meet them, received him with all honour and hospitality and carried him and his into the palace; then causing make ready for them carpets and cushions, sat down upon his golden throne and seated the guest by his side upon a chair of gold, framed in juniper-wood set with pearls and jewels. Presently he bade bring sweetmeats and confections and scents and commanded to slaughter four and-twenty head of sheep and the like of oxen and make ready geese and chickens and pigeons stuffed and boiled, and spread the tables; nor was it long before the meats were served up in vessels of gold and silver. So they ate their sufficiency and when they had eaten their fill, the tables were removed and the wine-service set on and the cups and flagons ranged in ranks, whilst the Mamelukes and the fair slave-girls sat down, with zones of gold about their waists, studded with all manner pearls, diamonds, emeralds, rubies and other jewels. Moreover, the king bade fetch the musicians; so there presented themselves before him twenty damsels with lutes and psalteries425 and viols, and smote upon instruments of music playing and performing on such wise that they moved the assembly to delight. Then said Al-Aziz to the King of Baghdad, “I would fain speak a word to thee; but do thou not exclude from us those who are present. An thou consent unto my wish thine is ours and on thee shall be whatso is on us;426 and we will be to thee a mighty forearm against all unfriends and foes.” Quoth Ins bin Kays, “Say what thou wilt, O King, for indeed thou excellest in speech and in whatso thou sayest dost hit the mark.” So Al-Aziz said to him, “I desire that thou marry thy daughter Mariyah to my son Al-Abbas, for thou knowest what he hath of beauty and loveliness, brightness and perfect grace and his frequentation of the valiant and his constancy in the stead of cut-and-thrust.” Said Ins bin Kays, “By Allah, O King, of my love for Mariyah, I have appointed her mistress of her own hand; accordingly, whomsoever she chooseth of the folk, to him will I wed her.” Then he arose to his feet and going in to his daughter, found her mother with her; so he set out to them the case and Mariyah said, “O my papa, my wish followeth thy word and my will ensueth thy will; so whatsoever thou chooseth, I am obedient to thee and under thy dominion.” Therewith the King knew that Mariyah inclined to Al-Abbas; he therefore returned forthright to King Al-Aziz and said to him, “May Allah amend the King! Verily, the wish is won and there is no opposition to that thou commandest.” Quoth Al-Aziz, “By Allah’s leave are wishes won. How deemest thou, O King, of fetching Al-Abbas and documenting the marriage-contract between Mariyah and him?” and quoth Ins bin Kays, “Thine be the rede.” So Al-Aziz sent after his son and acquainted him with that which had passed; whereupon Al-Abbas called for four-and-twenty mules and ten horses and as many camels and loaded the mules with fathom-long pieces of silk and rugs of leather and boxes of camphor and musk and the camels and horses with chests of gold and silver. Eke, he took the richest of the stuffs and wrapping them in wrappers of gold, purfled silk, laid them on the heads of porters,427 and they fared on with the treasures till they reached the King of Baghdad’s palace, whereupon all who were present dismounted in honour of Al-Abbas and escorting him in a body to the presence of Ins bin Kays, displayed to the King all that they had with them of things of price. The King bade carry all this into the store rooms of the Harim and sent for the Kazis and the witnesses, who wrote out the contract and married Mariyah to Al-Abbas, whereupon the Prince commanded slaughter one thousand head of sheep and five hundred buffaloes. So they spread the bride-feast and bade thereto all the tribes of the Arabs, men of tents and men of towns, and the banquet continued for the space of ten days. Then Al-Abbas went into Mariyah in a commendable and auspicious hour and lay with her and found her a pearl unthridden and a goodly filly no rider had ridden;428 wherefore he rejoiced and was glad and made merry, and care and sorrow ceased from him and his life was pleasant and trouble departed and he ceased not abiding with her in most joyful case and in the most easeful of life, till seven days were past, when King Al-Aziz resolved to set out and return to his realm and bade his son seek leave of his father-in-law to depart with his wife to his own country. So Al-Abbas spoke of this to King Ins, who granted him the permission he sought; whereupon he chose out, a red camel,429 taller and more valuable than the rest of the camels, and loading it with apparel and ornaments, mounted Mariyah in a litter thereon. Then they spread the ensigns and the standards, whilst kettledrums beat and the trumpets blared, and set out upon the homewards way. The King of Baghdad rode forth with them and companied them three days’ journey on their route, after which he farewelled them and returned with his troops to Baghdad. As for King Al-Aziz and his son, they fared on night and day and gave not over going till there remained but three days’ journey between them and Al-Yaman, when they despatched three men of the couriers to the Prince’s mother to report that they were bringing with them Mariyah, the King’s daughter of Baghdad, and returning safe and laden with spoil. When the Oueen-mother heard this, her wit took wings for joy and she adorned the slave-girls of Al-Abbas after the finest fashion. Now he had ten hand-maids, as they were moons, whereof his father had carried five with him to Baghdad, as hath erst been set forth, and the remaining five abode with his mother. When the dromedary-posts430 came, they were certified of the approach of Al-Abbas, and when the sun easted and their flags were seen flaunting, the Prince’s mother came out to meet her son; nor on that day was there great or small, boy or grey-beard, but went forth to greet the king. Then the kettle-drums of glad tidings beat and they entered in the utmost of pomp and the extreme of magnificence; so that the tribes and the townspeople heard of them and brought them the richest of gifts and the rarest of presents and the Prince’s mother rejoiced with joy exceeding. They butchered beasts and spread mighty bride-feasts for the people and kindled fires,431 that it might be visible afar to townsman and tribesman that this was the house of hospitality and the stead of the wedding-festival, to the intent that, if any passed them by, it should be of his own sin against himself. So the folk came to them from all districts and quarters and in this way they abode days and months. Presently the Prince’s mother bade fetch the five slave-girls to that assembly; whereupon they came and the ten damsels met. The queen seated five of them on her son’s right hand and the other five on his left and the folk gathered about them. Then she bade the five who had remained with her speak forth somewhat of poesy, so they might entertain therewith the seance and that Al-Abbas might rejoice thereat. Now she had clad them in the costliest of clothes and adorned them with trinkets and ornaments and moulded work of gold and silver and collars of gold, wrought with pearls and gems. So they paced forward, with harps and lutes and zithers and recorders and other instruments of music before them, and one of them, a damsel who came from the land of China and whose name was Bá’úthah, advanced and screwed up the strings of her lute. Then she cried out from the top of her head and recited these couplets,
“Indeed your land returned, when you returned,
To whilom light which overgrew its gloom:
Green grew the land that was afore dust-brown.
And fruits that failed again showed riping bloom:
And clouds rained treasures after rain had lacked,
And plenty poured from earth’s re-opening womb.
Then ceased the woes, my lords, that garred us weep,
With tears like dragons’ blood, our severance-doom,
Whose length, by Allah, made me yeam and pine,
Would Heaven, O lady mine, I were thy groom!”
When she had ended her song, all who were present were delighted and Al-Abbas rejoiced in this. Then he bade the second damsel sing somewhat on the same theme. So she came forward and tightening the strings of her harp, which was of balass ruby,432 raised her voice in a plaintive air and improvised these couplets,
“Brought the Courier glad news of our absentees,433
To please us through those who had wrought us unease:
Cried I, ‘My life ransom thee, messenger man,
Thou hast kept thy faith and thy boons are these.’
An the nightlets of union in you we joyed
When fared you naught would our grief appease;
You sware that folk would to folk be true,
And you kept your oaths as good faith decrees.
To you made I oath true lover am I
Heaven guard me when sworn from all perjuries:
I fared to meet you and loud I cried,
‘Aha, fair welcome when come you please!”
And I joyed to meet you and when you came,
Deckt all the dwelling with tapestries,
And death in your absence to us was dight,
But your presence bringeth us life and light.”
When she had made an end of her verse, Al-Abbas bade the third damsel (who came from Samarkand of Ajam-land and whose name was Rummanah) sing, and she answered, “To hear is to obey.” Then she took the zither and crying out from the midst of her head, recited and sang these couplets,434
“My watering mouth declares thy myrtle-cheek my food to be
And cull my lips thy side-face rose, who lily art to me!
And twixt the dune and down there shows the fairest flower that blooms
Whose fruitage is granado’s fruit with all granado’s blee.435
Forget my lids of eyne their sleep for magic eyes of him;
Naught since he fared but drowsy charms and languorous air I see.436
He shot me down with shaft of glance from bow of eyebrow sped:
What Chamberlain437 betwixt his eyes garred all my pleasure flee?
Haply shall heart of me seduce his heart by weakness’ force
E’en as his own seductive grace garred me love-ailment dree.
For an by him forgotten be our pact and covenant
I have a King who never will forget my memory.
His sides bemock the bending charms of waving Tamarisk,438
And in his beauty-pride he walks as drunk with coquetry:
His feet and legs be feather-light whene’er he deigns to run
And say, did any ride the wind except ’twere Solomon?”439
Therewith Al-Abbas smiled and her verses pleased him. Then he bade the fourth damsel come forward and sing (now she was from the Sundown-land440 and her name was Balakhshá); so she came forward and taking the lute and the zither, tuned the strings and smote them in many modes; then she returned to the first and improvising, sang these couplets,
“When to the séance all for pleasure hied
Thy lamping eyes illumined its every side;
While playing round us o’er the wine-full bowl
Those necklace-pearls old wine with pleasure plied,441
Till wits the wisest drunken by her grace
Betrayed for joyance secrets sages hide;
And, seen the cup, we bade it circle round
While sun and moon spread radiance side and wide.
We raised for lover veil of love perforce
And came glad tidings which new joys applied:
Loud sang the camel-guide; won was our wish
Nor was the secret by the spy espied:
And, when my days were blest by union-bliss
And to all-parting Time was aid denied,
Each ‘bode with other, clear of meddling spy
Nor feared we hate of foe or neighbour-pride.
The sky was bright, friends came and severance fared
And Love-in-union rained boons multiplied:
Saying ‘Fulfil fair union, all are gone
Rivals and fears lest shaming foe deride:’
Friends now conjoinPd are: wrong passed away
And meeting-cup goes round and joys abide:
On you be Allah’s Peace with every boon
Till end the dooming years and time and tide.”
When Balakhsha had ended her verse, all present were moved to delight and Al-Abbas said to her, “Brava, O damsel!” Then he bade the fifth damsel come forward and sing (now she was from the land of Syria and her name was Rayhánah; she was passing of voice and when she appeared in an assembly, all eyes were fixed upon her), so she came forward and taking the viol (for she was used to play upon all instruments) recited and sang these couplets,
“Your me-wards coming I hail to sight;
Your look is a joy driving woe from sprite:
With you love is blest, pure and white of soul;
Life’s sweet and my planet grows green and bright:
By Allah, you-wards my pine ne’er ceased
And your like is rare and right worthy hight.
Ask my eyes an e’er since the day ye went
They tasted sleep, looked on lover-wight:
My heart by the parting-day was broke
And my wasted body betrays my plight:
Could my blamers see in what grief am I,
They had wept in wonder my loss, my blight!
They had joined me in shedding torrential tears
And like me a-morn had shown thin and slight:
How long for your love shall your lover bear
This weight o’er much for the hill’s strong height?
By Allah what then for your sake was doomed
To my heart, a heart by its woes turned white!
An showed I the fires that aye flare in me,
They had ‘flamed Eastern world and earth’s Western site.
But after this is my love fulfilled
With joy and gladness and mere delight;
And the Lord who scattered hath brought us back
For who doeth good shall of good ne’er lack.”
When King Al-Aziz heard the damsel’s song, both words and verses pleased him and he said to Al-Abbas, “O my son, verily long versifying hath tired these damsels, and indeed they make us yearn after the houses and the homesteads with the beauty of their songs. These five have adorned our meeting with the charm of their melodies and have done well in that which they have said before those who are present; so we counsel thee to free them for the love of Allah Almighty.” Quoth Al-Abbas, “There is no command but thy command;” and he enfranchised the ten damsels in the assembly; whereupon they kissed the hands of the King and his son and prostrated themselves in thanksgiving to the Lord of All-might. Then they put off that which was upon them of ornaments and laying aside the lutes and other instruments of music, kept to their houses like modest women and veiled, and fared not forth.442 As for King Al-Aziz, he lived after this seven years and was removed to the mercy of Almighty Allah; when his son Al-Abbas bore him forth to burial as beseemeth kings and let make for him perlections and professional recitations of the Koran. He kept up the mourning for his father during four successive weeks, and when a full-told month had elapsed he sat down on the throne of the kingship and judged and did justice and distributed silver and gold. He also loosed all who were in the jails and abolished grievances and customs dues and righted the oppressed of the oppressor; so the lieges prayed for him and loved him and invoked on him endurance of glory and continuance of kingship and length of life and eternity of prosperity and happiness. The troops submitted to him, and the hosts from all parts of the kingdom, and there came to him presents from each and every land: the kings obeyed him and many were his warriors and his grandees, and his subjects lived with him the most easeful of lives and the most delightsome. Meanwhile, he ceased not, he and his beloved, Queen Mariyah, in the most enjoyable of life and the pleasantest, and he was vouchsafed by her children; and indeed there befel friendship and affection between them and the longer their companionship was prolonged, the more their love waxed, so that they became unable to endure each from other a single hour, save the time of his going forth to the Divan, when he would return to her in the liveliest that might be of longing. And after this fashion they abode in all solace of life and satisfaction till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies. So extolled be the Eternal whose sway endureth for ever and aye, who never unheedeth neither dieth nor sleepeth! This is all that hath come down to us of their tale, and so the Peace!
King Sjajruar marveled at this history444 and said, “By Allah, verily, injustice slayeth its folk!”445 And he was edified by that, wherewith Shahrazad bespoke him and sought help of Allah the Most High. Then said he to her, “Tell me another of thy tales, O Shahrazad; supply me with a pleasant story and this shall be the completion of the story-telling.”Shahrazad replied, “With love and gladness! I will tell thee a tale the like of which has never been heard before. It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that a man once declared to his mates, ‘I will set forth to you a means of security against annoy.’ A friend of mine once related to me and said, “We attained to security against annoy, and the origin of it was other than this; that is, it was the following’”446
342 Bresl. Edit., vol. xii. pp. 116-237, Nights dcccclxvi-dcccclxxix. Mr. Payne entitles it “El Abbas and the King’s Daughter of Baghdad.”
343 “Of the Shayban tribe.” I have noticed (vol. ii. 1) how loosely the title Malik (King) is applied in Arabic and in mediFval Europe. But it is ultra-Shakespearean to place a Badawi King in Baghdad, the capital founded by the Abbasides and ruled by those Caliphs till their downfall.
344 i.e. Irák Arabí (ChaldFa) and ‘Ajami (Western Persia). For the meaning of Al-Irák, which always, except in verse, takes the article, see vol. ii. 132.
345 See supra, p. 135. Mr. Payne suspects a clerical error for “Turkumániyah” = Turcomanish; but this is hardly acceptable.
346 As fabulous a personage as “King Kays.”
347 Possibly a clerical error for Zabíd, the famous capital of the Tahámah or lowlands of Al-Yaman.
348 The Moslem’s Holy Land whose capital is Meccah.
349 A hinted protest against making a picture or a statue which the artist cannot quicken; as this process will be demanded of him on Doomsday. Hence also the Princess is called Máriyah (Maria, Mary), a non-Moslem name.
350 i.e. day and night, for ever.
351 Koran xxxiii. 38; this concludes a “revelation” concerning the divorce and marriage to Mohammed of the wife of his adopted son Zayd. Such union, superstitiously held incestuous by all Arabs, was a terrible scandal to the rising Faith, and could be abated only by the “Commandment of Allah.” It is hard to believe that a man could act honestly after such fashion; but we have seen in our day a statesman famed for sincerity and uprightness honestly doing things the most dishonest possible. Zayd and Abu Lahab (chap. cxi. i.) are the only contemporaries of Mohammed named in the Koran.
352 i.e. darkened behind him.
353 Here we have again, as so common in Arab romances, the expedition of a modified Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.
354 Arab. “Arzi-há” = in its earth, its outlying suburbs.
355 The king’s own tribe.
356 i.e. he was always “spoiling for a fight.”
357 In the text the two last sentences are spoken by Amir and the story-teller suddenly resumes the third person.
358 Mr. Payne translates this “And God defend the right” (of plunder according to the Arabs).
359 Arab. “Lilláhi darruk”; see vol. iv. 20. Captain Lockett (p.28) justly remarks that “it is a sort of encomiastic exclamation of frequent occurrence in Arabic and much easier to comprehend than translate.” Darra signifies flowing freely (as milk from the udder) and was metaphorically transferred to bounty and to indoles or natural capacity. Thus the phrase means “your flow of milk is by or through Allah.” i.e., of unusual abundance.
360 The words are euphemistic: we should say “comest thou to our succour.”
361 i.e. If his friend the Devil be overstrong for thee, flee him rather than be slain; as
He who fights and runs away
Shall live to fight another day.
362 i.e. I look to Allah for said (and keep my powder dry).
363 i.e. to the next world.
364 This falling backwards in laughter commonly occurs during the earlier tales; it is, however, very rare amongst the Badawin.
365 i.e. as he were a flying Jinni, swooping down and pouncing falcon-like upon a mortal from the upper air.
366 This may be (reading Imraan = man, for Amran = matter) “a masterful man”; but I can hardly accept it.
367 Arab. “Bundukí,” the adj. of Bunduk, which the Moslems evidently learned from Slav sources; Venedik being the Dalmatian corruption of Venezia. See Dubrovenedik in vol. ii. 219.
368 i.e. the castle’s square.
369 In sign of quitting possession. Chess in Europe is rarely played for money, with the exception of public matches: this, however, is not the case amongst Easterns, who are also for the most part as tricky as an old lady at cribbage rightly named.
370 i.e, he was as eloquent and courtly as he could be.
371 Arab. “Ya Zínat al-Nisá,” which may either be a P.N. or a polite address as Bella fé (Handsome woman) is to any feminine in Southern Italy.
372 Arab. “Raas Ghanam”: this form of expressing singularity is common to Arabic and the Eastern languages, which it has influenced.
373 This most wearisome form of politeness is common in the Moslem world, where men fondly think that the more you see of them the more you like of them. Yet their Proverbial Philosophy (“the wisdom of many and the wit of one”) strongly protests against the practice: I have already quoted Mohammed’s saying, “Zur ghibban, tazid Hibban”— visits rare keep friendship fair.
374 This clause in the text is evidently misplaced (vol. xii.144).
375 Arab. Dara’ or Dira’=armour, whether of leather or metal; here the coat worn under the mail.
376 Called from Rustak, a quarter of Baghdad. For Rustak town see vol. vi. 289.
377 From Damietta comes our “dimity.” The classical name was Tamiáthis apparently Coptic grFcised: the old town on the shore famed in Crusading times was destroyed in A.H. 648 = 1251.
378 Easterns are always startled by sudden summons to the presence either of King or Kazi: here the messenger gives the youth to understand that it is in kindness, not in anger.
379 i.e. in not sending for thee to court instead of allowing thee to live in the city without guest-rite.
380 In sign of agitation: the phrase has often been used in this sense and we find it also in Al-Mas’udi.
381 I would remind the reader that the “Dawát” (ink-case) contains the reed-pens.
382 Two well-known lovers.
383 On such occasions the old woman (and Easterns are hard de dolo vetularum) always assents to the sayings of her prey, well knowing what the doings will inevitably be.
384 Travellers, Nomads, Wild Arabs.
385 Whither they bear thee back dead with the women crying and keening.
386 Arab. Aznání = emaciated me.
387 Either the Deity or the Love-god.
388 Arab. “HimB” = the tribal domain, a word which has often occurred.
389 “O ye who believe! seek help through patience and prayer: verily, Allah is with the patient.” Koran ii. 148. The passage refers to one of the battles, Bedr or Ohod.
390 Arab. “Sirr” (a secret) and afterwards “Kitmán” (concealment) i.e. Keeping a lover down-hearted.
391 Arab. “‘Alkam” = the bitter gourd, colocynth; more usually “Hanzal.”
392 “For Jazírah” = insula, island, used in the sense of “peninsula,” see vol. i. 2.
393 Meccah and Al-Medinah. Pilgrimage i. 338 and ii. 57, used in the proverb “Sharr fi al-Haramayn” = wickedness in the two Holy Places.
394 Arab. Al-hamd (o li’llah).
395 i.e. play, such as the chase, or an earnest matter, such as war, etc.
396 Arab. “Mizwad,” or Mizwad = lit. provision-bag, from Zád = viaticum; afterwards called Kirbah (pron. Girbah, the popular term), and Sakl. The latter is given in the Dictionaries as Askálah = scala, échelle, stage, plank.
397 Those blood-feuds are most troublesome to the traveller, who may be delayed by them for months: and, until a peace be patched up, he will never be allowed to pass from one tribe to their enemies. A quarrel of the kind prevented my crossing Arabia from Al-Medinah to Maskat (Pilgrimage, ii. 297), and another in Africa from visiting the head of the Tanganyika Lake. In all such journeys the traveller who has to fight against Time is almost sure to lose.
398 i.e. his fighting-men.
399 The popular treatment of a detected horse-thief, for which see Burckhardt, Travels in Arabia (1829), and Notes on the Bedouins and Wahabys (1830).
400 Arab “Ashírah”: see vol. vii. 121.
401 Arab. “Musáfahah” -. see vol. vi. 287.
402 In the text, “To the palace of the king’s daughter.”
403 Arab. “Marj Salí’” = cleft meadow (here and below). Mr. Payne suggests that this may be a mistranscription for Marj Salí’ (with a Sád) = a treeless champaign. It appears to me a careless blunder for the Marj akhzar (green meadow) before mentioned.
404 The palace, even without especial and personal reasons, not being the place for a religious and scrupulous woman.
405 “i.e. those of El Aziz, who had apparently entered the city or passed through it on their way to the camp of El Abbas.” This is Mr. Payne’s suggestion.
406 Arab “Hatif”; gen. = an ally.
407 Not wishing to touch the hand of a strange woman.
408 i.e. a mere passer-by, a stranger; alluding to her taunt.
409 The Bactrian or double-humped dromedary. See vol. iii. 67. Al-Mas’udi (vii. 169) calls it “Jamal fálij,” lit. = the palsy-camel.
410 i.e. Stars and planets.
411 i.e. Sang in tenor tones which are always in falsetto.
412 Arab. Tahzíb = reforming morals, amending conduct, chastening style.
413 i.e. so as to show only the whites, as happens to the “mesmerised.”
414 i.e. for love of and longing for thy youth.
415 i.e. leather from Al-Táif: see vol. viii. 303. The text has by mistake Tálifí.
416 i.e. she was at her last breath, when cured by the magic of love.
417 i.e. violateth my private apartment.
418 The voice (Sházz) is left doubtful: it may be girl’s, nightingale’s, or dove’s.
419 Arab. “Hibá” partly induced by the rhyme. In desert countries the comparison will be appreciated: in Sind the fine dust penetrates into a closed book.
420 i.e. he smuggled it in under his ‘Abá-cloak: perhaps it was a better brand than that made in the monastery.
421 i.e. the delights of Paradise promised by the Prophet.
422 Again, “he” for “she,” making the lover’s address more courtly and delicate.
423 i.e. take refuge with Allah from the evil eye of her charms.
424 i.e. an thou prank or adorn thyself: I have translated literally, but the couplet strongly suggests “nonsense verses.”
425 Arab. “Santír:” Lane (M.E., chapt. xviii.) describes it as resembling the Kanún (dulcimer or zither) but with two oblique peg-pieces instead of one and double chords of wire (not treble strings of lamb’s gut) and played upon with two sticks instead of the little plectra. Dozy also gives Santir from øáëôÞkéïí, the Fsaltrún of Daniel.
426 i.e. That which is ours shall be thine, and that which is incumbent on thee shall be incumbent on us = we will assume thy debts and responsibilities.
427 This passage is sadly disjointed in the text: I have followed Mr. Payne’s ordering.
428 The Arab of noble tribe is always the first to mount his own mare: he also greatly fears her being put out to full speed by a stranger, holding that this should be reserved for occasions of life and death; and that it can be done to perfection only once during the animal’s life.
429 The red (Ahmar) dromedary like the white-red (Sabah) were most valued because they are supposed best to bear the heats of noon; and thus “red camels” is proverbially used for wealth. When the head of Abu Jahl was brought in after the Battle of Bedr, Mahommed exclaimed, “’Tis more acceptable to me than a red camel!”
430 i.e. Couriers on dromedaries, the only animals used for sending messages over long distances.
431 These guest-fires are famous in Arab poetry. So Al-Harírí (Ass. of Banu Haram) sings:—
A beacon fire I ever kindled high;
i.e. on the hill-tops near the camp, to guide benighted travellers. Also the Lamíyat al-Ajam says:—
The fire of hospitality is ever lit on the high stations.
This natural telegraph was used in a host of ways by the Arabs of The Ignorance; for instance, when a hated guest left the camp they lighted the “Fire of Rejection,” and cried, “Allah, bear him far from us!” Nothing was more ignoble than to quench such fire: hence in obloquy of the Fazár tribe it was said:—
Ne'er trust Fazár with an ass, for they
Once roasted ass-pizzle, the rabble rout:
And, when sight they guest, to their dams they say,
“Piss quick on the guest-fire and put it out!”
(Al-Mas“udi vi. 140.)
432 i.e. of rare wood, set with rubies.
433 i.e. whose absence pained us.
434 Mr. Payne and I have long puzzled over these enigmatical and possibly corrupt lines: he wrote to me in 1884, “This is the first piece that has beaten me.” In the couplet above (vol. xii. 230) “Rayhání” may mean “my basil-plant” or “my food” (the latter Koranic), “my compassion,” etc.; and Súsání is equally ancipitous “My lilies” or “my sleep”: see Bard al-Susan = les douceurs du sommeil in Al-Mas’údi vii. 168.
435 The “Niká” or sand hill is the swell of the throat: the Ghaur or lowland is the fall of the waist: the flower is the breast anent which Mr. Payne appropriately quotes the well-known lines of Fletcher:
“Hide, O hide those hills of snow,
That thy frozen bosom bears,
On whose tops the pinks that grow
Are of those that April wears.”
436 Easterns are right in regarding a sleepy languorous look as one of the charms of women, and an incitement to love because suggestive only of bed. Some men also find the same pleasure in a lacrymose expression of countenance, seeming always to call for consolation: one of the most successful women I know owes her exceptional good fortune to this charm.
437 Arab. “Hájib,“eyebrow or chamberlain; see vol. iii. 233. The pun is classical used by a host of poets including Al-Harírí.
438 Arab. “Tarfah.” There is a Tarfia Island in the Guadalquivir and in Gibraltar a “Tarfah Alto” opposed to “Tarfali bajo.” But it must not be confounded with Tarf = a side, found in the Maroccan term for “The Rock” Jabal al-Tarf = Mountain of the Point (of Europe).
439 For Solomon and his flying carpet see vol. iii. 267.
440 Arab. “Bilád al-Maghrib (al-Aksa,” in full) = the Farthest Land of the setting Sun, shortly called Al-Maghrib and the people “Maghribi.” The earliest occurrence of our name Morocco or Marocco I find in the “Marákiyah” of Al-Mas’udi (iii. 241), who apparently applies it to a district whither the Berbers migrated.
441 The necklace-pearls are the cup-bearer’s teeth.
442 In these unregenerate days they would often be summoned to the houses of the royal family; but now they had “got religion” and, becoming freed women, were resolved to be “respectable.” In not a few Moslem countries men of wealth and rank marry professional singers who, however loose may have been their artistic lives, mostly distinguish themselves by decency of behaviour often pushed to the extreme of rigour. Also jeune coquette, vieille dévote is a rule of the world, Eastern and Western.
443 Bresl. Edit., vol. xii p. 383 (Night mi). The king is called as usual “Shahrbán,” which is nearly synonymous with Shahryár.
444 i.e. the old Sindibae-Námeh (see vol. vi. 122), or “The Malice of Women” which the Bresl. Edit. entitles, “Tale of the King and his Son and his Wife and the Seven Wazirs.” Here it immediately follows the Tale of Al-Abbas and Mariyah and occupies pp. 237-383 of vol. xii, (Nights dcccclxxix-m).
445 i.e. Those who commit it.
446 The connection between this pompous introduction and the story which follows is not apparent. The “Tale of the Two Kings and the Wazir’s Daughters” is that of Shahrazad told in the third person, in fact a rechauffé of the Introduction. But as some three years have passed since the marriage, and the dénouement of the plot is at hand, the Princess is made, with some art I think, to lay the whole affair before her husband in her own words, the better to bring him to a “sense of his duty.”
I overtravelled whileome lands and climes and towns and visited the cities of high renown and traversed the ways of dangers and hardships. Towards the last of my life, I entered a city of the cities of China,448 wherein was a king of the Chosroës and the Tobbas449 and the CFsars.450 Now that city had been peopled with its inhabitants by means of justice and equity; but its then king was a tyrant dire who despoiled lives and souls at his desire; in fine, there was no warming oneself at his fire, 451 for that indeed he oppressed the believing band and wasted the eland. Now he had a younger brother, who was king in Sarmarkand of the Persians, and the two kings sojourned a while of time, each in his own city and stead, till they yearned unto each other and the elder king despatched his Wazir to fetch his younger brother. When the Minister came to the King of Samarkand and acquainted him with his errand, he submitted himself to the bidding of his brother and answered, “To hear is to obey.” Then he equipped himself and made ready for wayfare and brought forth his tents and pavilions. A while after midnight, he went in to his wife, that he might farewell her, and found her with a strange man, lying by her in one bed. So he slew them both and dragging them out by the feet, cast them away and set forth on his march. When he came to his brother’s court, the elder king rejoiced in him with joy exceeding and lodged him in the pavilion of hospitality beside his own palace. Now this pavilion overlooked a flower-garden belonging to the elder brother and there the younger abode with him some days. Then he called to mind that which his wife had done with him and remembered her slaughter and bethought him how he was a king, yet was not exempt from the shifts of Time; and affected him with exceeding affect, so that it drave him to abstain from meat and drink, or, if he ate anything, it profited him naught. When his brother saw him on such wise, he deemed that this had betided him by reason of severance from his folk and family, and said to him, “Come, let us fare forth a-coursing and a-hunting.” But he refused to go with him; so the elder brother went to the chase, while the younger abode in the pavilion aforesaid. Now, as he was diverting himself by looking out upon the flower-garden from the latticed window of the palace, behold, he saw his brother’s wife and with her ten black slaves and ten slave-girls. Each slave laid hold of a damsel and another slave came forth and did the like with the queen; and when they had their wills one of other they all returned whence they came. Hereat there betided the King of Samarkand exceeding surprise and solace and he was made whole of his malady, little by little. After a few days, his brother returned, and finding him cured of his complaint, said to him, “Tell me, O my brother, what was the cause of thy sickness and thy pallor, and what is the reason of the return of health to thee and of rosiness to thy face after this?” So he acquainted him with the whole case and this was grievous to him; but they hid their affair and agreed to leave the kingship and fare forth a-pilgrimaging and adventuring at hap-hazard, for they deemed that there had befallen none the like of what had befallen them. Accordingly, they went forth and as they journeyed, they saw by the way a woman imprisoned in seven chests, whereon were five padlocks, and sunken deep in the midst of the salt sea, under the guardianship of an Ifrit; yet for all this that woman issued out of the ocean and opened those padlocks and coming forth of those chests, did what she would with the two brothers, after she had practised upon the Ifrit. When the two kings saw that woman’s fashion and how she circumvented the Ifrit, who had lodged her in the abyss of the main, they turned back to their kingdoms and the younger betook himself to Samarkand, whilst the elder returned to China and contrived for himself a custom in the slaughter of damsels, which was, his Wazir used to bring him every night a girl, with whom he lay that night, and when he arose in the morning, he gave her to the Minister and bade him do her die. After this fashion he abode a long time, and the commons cried out by reason of that grievous affair into which they were fallen and feared the wrath of Allah Almighty, dreading lest He destroy them by means of this. still the king persisted in that practice and in his blameworthy intent of the killing of damsels and the despoilment of maidens concealed by veils,452 wherefore the girls sought succor of the Lord of All-might, and complained to Him of the tyranny of the eking and of his oppression. Now the king’s Wazir had two daughters, sisters german, the elder of whom had read the books and made herself mistress of the sciences and studied the writings of the sages and the stories of the cup-companions,453 and she was a maiden of abundant lore and knowledge galore and wit than which naught can be more. She heard that which the folk suffered from that king in his misuage of their children; whereupon ruth for them gat hold of her and jealousy and she besought Allah Almighty that He would bring the king to renounce that his new accursed custom,454 and the Lord answered her prayer. Then she consulted her younger sister and said to her, “I mean to devise a device for freeing the children of folk; to wit, I will go up to the king and offer myself to marry him, and when I come to his presence, I will send to fetch thee. When thou comest in to me and the king had his carnal will of me, do thou say to me, ‘O my sister, let me hear a story of thy goodly stories, wherewith we may beguile the waking hours of our night, till the dawn, when we take leave of each other; and let the king hear it likewise!’” The other replied, “’Tis well; forsure this contrivance will deter the king from this innovation he practiseth and thou shalt be requited with favour exceeding and recompense abounding in the world to come, for that indeed thou perilest thy life and wilt either perish or win to thy wish.” So she did this and Fortune favoured her and the Divine direction was vouchsafed to her and she discovered her design to her sire, the Wazir, who thereupon forbade her, fearing her slaughter. However, she repeated her words to him a second time and a third, but he consented not. Then he cited to her a parable, which should deter her, and she cited to him a parable of import contrary to his, and the debate was prolonged between them and the adducing of instances, till her father saw that he was powerless to turn her from her purpose and she said to him, “There is no help but that I marry the King, so haply I may be a sacrifice for the children of the Moslems: either I shall turn him from this his heresy or I shall die.” When the Minister despaired of dissuading her, he went up to the king and acquainted him with the case, saying, “I have a maiden daughter and she desireth to give herself in free gift to the King.” Quoth the King, “How can thy soul consent to this, seeing that thou knowest I abide but a single night with a girl and when I arise on the morrow, I do her dead, and ’tis thou who slayest her, and again and again thou hast done this?” Quoth the Wazir, “Know, O king, that I have set forth all this to her, yet consented she not to aught, but needs must she have thy company and she chooseth to come to thee and present herself before thee, albeit I have cited to her the sayings of the sages; but she hath answered me with more than that which I said to her and contrariwise.” Then quoth the king, “Suffer her visit me this night and to-morrow morning come thou and take her and kill her; and by Allah, an thou slay her not, I will slay thee and her also!” the Minister obeyed the king’s bidding and going out from the presence returned home. When it was night, he took his elder daughter and carried her up to the king; and when she came before him she wept;455 whereupon he asked her, “What causeth thee to weep? Indeed, ’twas thou who willedst this.” She answered, “I weep not but of longing after my little sister; for that, since we grew up, I and she, I have never been parted from her till this day; so, an it please the King to send for her, that I may look on her, and listen to her speech and take my fill of her till the morning, this were a boon and an act of kindness of the King.” So he bade fetch the damsel and she came. Then there befel that which befel of his union with the elder sister,456 and when he went up to his couch, that he might sleep, the younger sister said to her elder, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be not asleep, tell us a tale of thy goodly tales, wherewith me may beguile the watches of our night, ere day dawn and parting.” Said she, “With love and gladness;” and fell to relating to her, whilst the king listened. Her story was goodly and delectable, and whilst she was in the middle of telling it, the dawn brake. Now the king’s heart clave to the hearing of the rest of the story; so he respited her till the morrow; and, when it was the next night, she told him a tale concerning the marvels of the land and the wonders of Allah’s creatures which was yet stranger and rarer than the first. In the midst of the recital, appeared the day and she was silent from the permitted say. So he let her live till the following night, that he might hear the end of the history and after that slay her. On this wise it fortuned with her; but as regards the people of the city, they rejoiced and were glad and blessed the Wazir’s daughters, marvelling for that three days had passed and that the king had not put his bride to death and exulting in that he had returned to the ways of righteousness and would never again burthen himself with blood-guilt against any of the maidens of the city. Then, on the fourth night, she related to him a still more extraordinary adventure, and on the fifth night she told him anecdotes of Kings and Wazirs and Notables. Brief, she ceased not to entertain him many days and nights, while the king said to himself, “Whenas I shall have heard the end of the tale, I will do her die,” and the people redoubled their marvel and admiration. Also, the folk of the circuits and cities heard of this thing, to wit, that the king had turned from his custom and from that which he had imposed upon himself and had renounced his heresy, wherefor they rejoiced and the lieges returned to the capital and took up there abode therein, after they had departed thence; and they were constant in prayer to Allah Almighty that He would stablish the king in his present stead.” “And this, said Shahrazad, “is the end of that which my friend related to me.” Quoth Shahryar,457 “O Shahrazad, finish for us the tale thy friend told thee, inasmuch as it resembleth the story of a King whom I knew; but fain would I hear that which betided the people of this city and what they said of the affair of the King, so I may return from the case wherein I was.” She replied, “With love and gladness!” Know, O auspicious king and lord of right rede and praiseworthy meed and prowest of deed, that, when the folk heard how the king had put away from him his malpractice and returned from his unrighteous wont, they rejoiced in this with joy exceeding and offered up prayers for him. Then they talked one with other of the cause of the slaughter of the maidens, and the wise said, “Women are not all alike, nor are the fingers of the hand alike.” Now when King Shahryar heard this story he came to himself and awakening from his drunkenness,458 said, “By Allah, this story is my story and this case is my case, for that indeed I was in reprobation and danger of judgment till thou turnedst me back from this into the right way, extolled be the Causer of causes and the Liberator of necks!” presently adding, “Indeed, O Shahrazad, thou hast awakened me to many things and hast aroused me from mine ignorance of the right.” Then said she to him, “O chief of the kings, the wise say, ‘The kingship is a building, whereof the troops are the base, and when the foundation is strong, the building endureth;’ wherefore it behoveth the king to strengthen the foundation, for that they say, ‘Whenas the base is weak, the building falleth.’ In like fashion it befitteth the king to care for his troops and do justice among his lieges, even as the owner of the garden careth for his trees and cutteth away the weeds that have no profit in them; and so it befitteth the king to look into the affairs of his Ryots and fend off oppression from them. As for thee, O king, it behoveth thee that thy Wazir be virtuous and experienced in the requirements of the people and the peasantry; and indeed Allah the Most High hath named his name459 in the history of Musa (on whom be the Peace!) when he saith, ‘And make me a Wazir of my people, Aaron.’ Now could a Wazir have been dispensed withal, Moses son of Imran had been worthier than any to do without a Minister. As for the Wazir, the Sultan discovereth unto him his affairs, private and public; and know, O king, that the likeness of thee with the people is that of the leach with the sick man; and the essential condition of the Minister is that he be soothfast in his sayings, reliable in all his relations, rich in ruth for the folk and in tenderness of transacting with them. Verily, it is said, “O king, that good troops be like the druggist; if his perfumes reach thee not, thou still smellest the fragrance of them; and bad entourage be like the blacksmith; if his sparks burn thee not, thou smellest his evil smell. So it befitteth thee to take to thyself a virtuous Wazir, a veracious counsellor, even as thou takest unto thee a wife displayed before thy face, because thou needest the man’s righteousness for thine own right directing, seeing that, if thou do righteously, the commons will do right, and if thou do wrongously, they will also do wrong.” When the King heard this, drowsiness overcame him and he slept and presently awaking, called for the candles; so they were lighted and he sat down on his couch and seating Shahrazad by him, smiled in her face. She kissed the ground before him and said, “O king of the age and lord of the time and the years, extolled be the Forgiving, the Bountiful, who hath sent me to thee, of His grace and good favour, so I have incited thee to longing after Paradise; for verily this which thou wast wont do was never done of any of the kings before thee. then laud be to the Lord who hath directed thee into the right way, and who from the paths of frowardness hath diverted thee! as for women, Allah Almighty maketh mention of them also when He saith in His Holy Book, ‘Truly, the men who resign themselves to Allah460 and the women who resign themselves, and the true-believing men and the true-believing women and the devout men and the devout women and truthful men and truthful women, and long-suffering men and long-suffering women, and the humble men and the humble women, and charitable men and charitable women, and the men who fast and the women who fast, and men who guard their privities and women who guard their privities, and men who are constantly mindful of Allah and women who are constantly mindful, for them Allah hath prepared forgiveness and a rich reward.’461 as for that which hath befallen thee, verily, it hath befallen many kings before thee and their women have falsed them, for all they were more majestical of puissance than thou, and mightier of kingship and had troops more manifold. If I would, I could relate to thee, O king, concerning the wiles of women, that whereof I should not make an end all my life long; and indeed, in all these my nights that I have passed before thee, I have told thee many tales of the wheedling of women and of their craft; but soothly the things abound on me;462 so, an thou please, O king, I will relate to thee somewhat of that which befel olden kings of perfidy from their women and of the calamities which overtook them by reason of these deceivers."” Asked the king, “How so? Tell on;” and she answered, “Hearkening and obedience. It hath been told me, O king, that a man once related to a company the following tale:”
447 Bresl. Edit., vol. xii. Pp. 384-412.
448 This clause is taken from the sequence, where the older brother’s kingdom is placed in China.
449 For the Tobbas = “Successors” or the Himyaritic kings, see vol. i. 216.
450 Kayásirah, opp. to Akásirah, here and in many other places.
451 See vol. ii. 77. King Kulayb (“little dog”) al-Wá’il, a powerful chief of the Banu Ma’ad in the Kasín district of Najd, who was connected with the war of Al-Basús. He is so called because he lamed a pup (kulayb) and tied it up in the midst of his Himá (domain, place of pasture and water), forbidding men to camp within sound of its bark or sight of his fire. Hence “more masterful than Kulayb,” A.P. ii. 145, and Al-Hariri Ass. Xxvi. (Chenery, p. 448). This angry person came by his death for wounding in the udder a trespassing camel (Sorab) whose owner was a woman named Basús. Her friend (Jasús) slew him; and thus arose the famous long war between the tribes Wá’il Bakr and Taghlib. It gave origin to the saying, “Die thou and be an expiation for the shoe-latchet of Kulayb.”
452 Arab. “Mukhaddarát,” maidens concealed behind curtains and veiled in the Harem.
453 i.e. the professional Ráwis or tale-reciters who learned stories by heart from books like “The Arabian Nights.” See my Terminal Essay, vol. x. 144.
454 Arab. “Bid’ah,” lit. = an innovation, a new thing, an invention, any change from the custom of the Prophet and the universal practice of the Faith, where it be in the cut of the beard or a question of state policy. Popularly the word = heterodoxy, heresy; but theologically it is not necessarily used in a bad sense. See vol. v. 167.
455 About three parts of this sentence have been supplied by Mr. Payne, the careless scribe having evidently omitted it.
456 Here, as in the Introduction (vol. i. 24), the king consummates his marriage in presence of his virgin sister-in-law, a process which decency forbids amongst Moslems.
457 Al-Mas’udi (vol. iv. 213) uses this term to signify viceroy in “Shahryár Sajastán.”
458 i.e. his indifference to the principles of right and wrong, which is a manner of moral intoxication.
459 i.e. hath mentioned the office of Wazir (in Koran xx. 30).
460 i.e. Moslems, who practice the Religion of Resignation.
461 Koran xxxiii. 35. This is a proemium to the “revelation” concerning Zayd and Zaynab.
462 i.e. I have an embarras de richesse in my repertory.
One day of the days, as I stood at the door of my house, and the heat was excessive, behold, I saw a fair woman approaching, and with her a slave-girl carrying a parcel. They gave not over going till they came up to me, when the woman stopped and asked me, “Hast thou a draught of water?” answered I, “Yes, enter the vestibule, O my lady, so thou mayest drink.” Accordingly she came in and I went up into the house and fetched two gugglets of earthenware, smoked with musk464 and full of cold water. She took one of them and discovered her face, the better to drink; whereupon I saw that she was as the rising moon or the resplendent sun and said to her, “O my lady, wilt thou not come up into the house, so thou mayst rest thyself till the air cool and afterwards fare thee to thine own place?” quoth she, “Is there none with thee?” and quoth I, “Indeed I am a bachelor and have none belonging tome, nor is there a wight in the site;465 whereupon she said, “An thou be a stranger, thou art he in quest of whom I was going about.” So she went up into the house and doffed her walking-dress and I found her as she were the full moon. I brought her what I had by me of food and drink and said to her, “O my lady, excuse me: this is all that is ready;” and said she, “This is right good466 and indeed ’tis what I sought.” Then she ate and gave the slave-girl that which was left; after which I brought her a casting-bottle of musked rose-water, and she washed her hands and abode with me till the season of mid-afternoon prayer, when she brought out of the parcel she had with her a shirt and trousers and an upper garment467 and a gold-worked kerchief and gave them to me; saying, “Know that I am one of the concubines of the Caliph, and we be forty concubines, each of whom hath a cicisbeo who cometh to her as often as she would have him; and none is without a lover save myself, wherefore I came forth this day to get me a gallant and now I have found thee. thou must know that the Caliph lieth each night with one of us, whilst the other nine-and-thirty concubines take their ease with the nine-and-thirty masculines, and I would have thee company on such a day, when do thou come up to the palace of the Caliph and sit awaiting me in such a place, till a little eunuch come out to thee and say to thee a certain watch-word which is, ‘Art thou Sandal?’ Answer ‘Yes,’ and wend thee with him.” Then she took leave of me and I of her, after I had strained her to my bosom and thrown my arms round her neck and we had exchanged kisses awhile. So she fared forth and I abode patiently expecting the appointed day, till it came, when I arose and went out, intending for the trysting place; but a friend of mine met me by the way and made me go home with him. I accompanied him and when I came up into his sitting-chamber he locked the door on me and walked out to fetch what we might eat and drink. He was absent until midday, then till the hour of mid-afternoon prayer, whereat I was chagrined with sore concern. Then he was missing until sundown, and I was like to die of vexation and impatience; and indeed he returned not and I passed my night on wake, nigh upon death, for the door was locked on me, and my soul was like to depart my body on account of the assignation. At daybreak, my friend returned and opening the door, came in, bringing with him meat-pudding468 and fritters and bees’ honey, and said to me, “By Allah, thou must needs excuse me, for that I was with a company and they locked the door on me and have let me go but this very moment.” I returned him no reply; however, he set before me that which was with him and I ate a single mouthful and went out running at speed so haply I might overtake the rendezvous which had escaped me. when I came to the palace, I saw over against it eight-and-thirty gibbets set up, whereon were eight-and-thirty men crucified, and under them eight-and-thirty469 concubines as they were moons. So I asked the cause of the crucifixion of the men and concerning the women in question, and it was said unto me, “The men thou seest crucified the Caliph found with yonder damsels, who be his bed-fellows.” When I heard this, I prostrated myself in thanksgiving to Allah and said, “The Almighty require thee with all good, O my friend!” for had he not invited me and locked me up in his house that night, I had been crucified with these men, wherefore Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord! “On this wise” (continued Shahrazad), “none is safe from the calamities of the world and the vicissitudes of Time, and in proof of this, I will relate unto thee yet another story still rarer and stranger than this. Know, O king, that one said to me: A friend of mine, a merchant, told me the following tale:
463 The title is from the Bresl. Edit. (vol. xii. pp. 398-402). Mr. Payne calls it “The Favourite and her Lover.”
464 The practice of fumigating gugglets is universal in Egypt (Lane, M. E., chapt. v.); but I never heard of musk being so used.
465 Arab. “Laysa fi ’l-diyári dayyár”— a favourite jingle.
466 Arab. “Khayr Kathir” (pron. Katír) which also means “abundant kindness.”
467 Dozy says of “Hunayní” (Haíní), Il semble Ltre le nom d’un vLtement. On which we may remark, Connu!
468 Arab. Harísah: see vol. i. 131. Westerns make a sad mess of this dish when they describe it as une sorte d’olla podrida (the hotch-pot), une pâtée de viandes, de froment et de légumes secs (Al-Mas’udi viii. 438). Whenever I have eaten it, it was always a meat-pudding, for which see vol. i. 131.
469 Evidently one escaped because she was sleeping with the Caliph, and a second because she had kept her assignation.
As I sat one day in my shop, there came up to me a fair woman, as she were the moon at its rising, and with her a hand-maid. Now I was a handsome man in my time; so that lady sat down on my shop471 and buying stuffs of me, paid the price and went her ways. I asked the girl anent her and she answered, “I know not her name.” Quoth I, “Where is her abode?” Quoth she, “In heaven;” and I, “She is presently on the earth; so when doth she ascend to heaven and where is the ladder by which she goeth up?”472 the girl retorted, “She hath her lodging in a palace between two rivers,473 that is, in the palace of Al-Maamún al-Hákim bi-Amri ’llah.”474 Then said I, “I am a dead man, without a doubt;” but she replied, “Have patience, for needs must she return to thee and buy other stuffs of thee.” I asked, “And how cometh it that the Commander of the Faithful trusteth her to go out?” and she answered, “He loveth her with exceeding love and is wrapped up in her and crosseth her not.” Then the slave-girl went away, running after her mistress; whereupon I left the shop and followed them, so I might see her abiding-place. I kept them in view all the way, till she disappeared from mine eyes, when I returned to my place, with heart a-fire. Some days after, she came to me again and bought stuffs of me: I refused to take the price and she cried, “We have no need of thy goods.” Quoth I, “O my lady, accept them from me as a gift;” but quoth she, “Wait till I try thee and make proof of thee.” Then she brought out of her pocket a purse and gave me therefrom a thousand dinars, saying, “Trade with this till I return to thee.” So I took the purse and she went away and returned not till six months had passed. Meanwhile, I traded with the money and sold and bought and made other thousand dinars profit on it. At last she came to me again and I said to her, “Here is thy money and I have gained with it other thousand ducats;” and she, “Let it lie by thee and take these other thousand dinars. As soon as I have departed from thee, go thou to Al-Rauzah, the Garden-holm, and build there a goodly pavilion, and when the edifice is accomplished, give me to know thereof. As soon as she was gone, I betook myself to Al-Rauzah and fell to building the pavilion, and when it was finished, I furnished it with the finest of furniture and sent to tell her that I had made an end to the edifice; whereupon she sent back to me, saying, “Let him meet me to-morrow about day-break at the Zuwaylah gate and bring with him a strong ass.” I did as she bade and, betaking myself to the Zuwaylah gate, at the appointed time, found there a young man on horseback, awaiting her, even as I awaited her. As we stood, behold, up she came, and with her a slave-girl. When she saw that young man, she asked him, “Art thou here?” and he answered, “Yes, O my lady.” Quoth she, “To-day I am invited by this man: wilt thou wend with us?” and quoth he, “Yes.” then said she, “Thou hast brought me hither against my will and parforce. Wilt thou go with us in any case?”475 He cried, “Yes, yes,” and we fared on, all three, until we came to Al-Rauzah and entered the pavilion. The dame diverted herself awhile with viewing its ordinance and furniture, after which she doffed her walking-dress and sat down with the young man in the goodliest and chiefest place. Then I fared forth and brought them what they should eat at the first of the day; presently I again went out and fetched them what they should eat at the end of the day and brought for the twain wine and dessert and fruits and flowers. After this fashion I abode in their service, standing on my feet, and she said not unto me, “Sit,” nor “Take, eat” nor “Take, drink,” while she and the young man sat toying and laughing, and he feel to kissing her and pinching her and hopping over the ground476 and laughing. They remained thus awhile and presently she said, “Hitherto we have not become drunken; let me pour out.” So she took the cup, and crowning it, gave him to drink and plied him with wine, till he lost his wits, when she took him up and carried him into a closet. Then she came out, with the head of that youth in her hand, while I stood silent, fixing not mine eyes on her eyes neither questioning her of the case; and she asked me, “Take it and throw it in the river.” I accepted her commandment and she arose and stripping herself of her clothes, took a knife and cut the dead man’s body in pieces, which she laid in three baskets, and said to me, “Throw them into the river.” I did her bidding and when I returned, she said to me, “Sit, so I may relate to thee yonder fellow’s case, lest thou be affrighted at what accident hath befallen him. Thou must know that I am the Caliph’s favourite concubine, nor is there any higher in honour with him than I; and I am allowed six nights in each month, wherein I go down into the city and tarry with my whilome mistress who reared me; and when I go down thus, I dispose of myself as I will. Now this young man was the son of certain neighbors of my mistress, when I was a virgin girl. One day, my mistress was sitting with the chief officers of the palace and I was alone in the house, and as the night came on, I went up to the terrace-roof in order to sleep there, but ere I was ware, this youth came up from the street and falling upon me knelt on my breast. He was armed with a dagger and I could not get free of him till he had taken my maidenhead by force; and this sufficed him not, but he must needs disgrace me with all the folk for, as often as I came down from the palace, he would stand in wait for me by the way and futtered me against my will and follow me wheresoever I went. This, then, is my story, and as for thee, thou pleasest me and thy patience pleaseth me and thy good faith and loyal service, and there abideth with me none dearer than thou.” Then I lay with her that night and there befel what befel between us till the morning, when she gave me abundant wealth and took to meeting me at the pavilion six days in every month. After this wise we passed a whole year, at the end of which she cut herself off from me a month’s space, wherefore fire raged in my heart on her account. When it was the next month, behold, a little eunuch presented himself to me and said, “I am a messenger to thee from Such-an-one, who giveth thee to know that the Commander of the Faithful hath ordered her to be drowned, her those who are with her, six-and-twenty slave-girls, on such a day at Dayr al-Tin,477 for that they have confessed of lewdness, one against other and she sayeth to thee, ‘Look how thou mayest do with me and how thou mayest contrive to deliver me, even an thou gather together all my money and spend it upon me, for that this be the time of manhood.’”478 Quoth I, “I know not this woman; belike it is other than I to whom this message is sent; so beware, O Eunuch, lest thou cast me into a cleft.” Quoth he, “Behold, I have told thee that I had to say,” and went away, leaving me in sore concern on her account. Now when the appointed day came, I arose and changing my clothes and favour, donned sailor’s apparel; then I took with me a purse full of gold and buying a right good breakfast, accosted a boatman at Dayr al-Tin and sat down and ate with him; after which I asked him, “Wilt thou hire me thy boat?” Answered he, “The Commander of the Faithful hath commanded me to be here;” and he told me the tale of the concubines and how the Caliph purposed to drown them that day. When I heard this from him, I brought out to him ten gold pieces and discovered to him my case, whereupon he said to me, “O my brother, get thee empty gourds, and when thy mistress cometh, give me to know of her and I will contrive the trick.” So I kissed his hand and thanked him and, as I was walking about, waiting, up came the guards and eunuchs escorting the women, who were weeping and shrieking and farewelling one another. The Castratos cried out to us, whereupon we came with the boat, and they said to the sailor, “Who be this?” Said he, “This is my mate whom I have brought to help me, so one of us may keep the boat whilst another doth your service.” Then they brought out to us the women, one by one, saying “Throw them in by the Island;” and we replied, “’Tis well.” Now each of them was shackled and they had made fast about her neck a jar of sand. We did as the neutrals bade us and ceased not to take the women, one after other, and cast them in, till they gave us my mistress and I winked to my mate. So we took her and carried her out and cast her into mid-stream, where I threw to her the empty gourds479 and said to her, “Wait for me at the mouth of the Canal.”480 now there remained one woman after her: so we took her and drowned her and the eunuchs went away, whilst we dropped down the river till we came to where I saw my mistress awaiting me. We haled her into the canoe and returned to our pavilion. Then I rewarded the sailor and he took his boat and went away; whereupon quoth she to me, “Thou art indeed the friend ever faithful found for the shifts of Fortune.”481 and I sojourned with her some days; but the shock wrought upon her so that she sickened and fell to wasting away and redoubled in weakness till she died. I mourned for her and buried her; after which I removed all that was in the pavilion and abandoned the building. Now she had brought to that pavilion a little coffer of copper and laid it in a place whereof I knew not; so, when the Inspector of Inheritances482 came, he rummaged the house and found the coffer. Presently he opened it and seeing it full of jewels and seal-rings, took it, and me with it, and ceased not to put me to the question with beating and torment till I confessed the whole affair. Thereupon they carried me to the Caliph and I told him all that had passed between me and her; and he said to me, “O man, depart this city, for I release thee on account of thy courage and because of thy constancy in keeping thy secret and thy daring in exposing thyself to death.” So I arose forthwith and fared from his city; and this is what befel me.
470 Mr. Payne entitles it, “The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif el Mamoun el Hakim bi Amrillah.”
471 See my Pilgrimage (i. 100): the seat would be on the same bit of boarding where the master sits or on a stool or bench in the street.
472 This is true Cairene chaff, give and take; and the stranger must accustom himself to it before he can be at home with the people.
473 i.e. In Rauzah-Island: see vol. v. 169.
474 There is no historical person who answers to these name, “The Secure, the Ruler by Commandment of Allah.” The cognomen applies to two soldans of Egypt, of whom the later Abu al-Abbas Ahmad the Abbaside (A.D. 1261-1301) has already been mentioned in The Nights (vol. v. 86). The tale suggests the earlier Al-Hakim (Abu Ali al-Mansúr, the Fatimite, A.D. 995-1021), the God of the Druze “persuasion;” and the tale-teller may have purposely blundered in changing Mansúr to Maamún for fear of offending a sect which has been most dangerous in the matter of assassination and which is capable of becoming so again.
475 Arab. “’Alá kulli hál” = “whatever may betide,” or “willy-nilly.” The phrase is still popular.
476 The dulce desipere of young lovers, he making a buffoon of himself to amuse her.
477 “The convent of Clay,” a Coptic monastery near Cairo.
478 i.e. this is the time to show thyself a man.
479 The Eastern succedaneum for swimming corks and other “life-preservers.” The practice is very ancient; we find these guards upon the monuments of Egypt and Babylonia.
480 Arab. “Al-Khalíj,” the name, still popular, of the Grand Canal of Cairo, whose banks, by-the-by, are quaint and picturesque as anything of the kind in Holland.
481 We say more laconically “A friend in need.”
482 Arab. “Názir al-Mawárís,” the employé charged with the disposal of legacies and seizing escheats to the Crown when Moslems die intestate. He is usually a prodigious rascal as in the text. The office was long kept up in Southern Europe, and Camoens was sent to Macao as “Provedor dos defuntos e ausentes.”
Author of “Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations and Transformations,” Etc.
Few if the stories in the “Arabian Nights” which charmed our marvelling boyhood were greater favourites than this one, under the title of “Abou Hassan; or, the Sleeper Awakened.” What recked we in those days whence it was derived? — the story— the story was the thing! As Sir R. F. Burton observes in his first note, this is “the only one of the eleven added by Galland, whose original has been discovered in Arabic;”483 and it is probable that Galland heard it recited in a coffee-house during his residence in Constantinople. The plot of the Induction to Shakspeare’s comedy of “The Taming of the Shrew” is similar to the adventure of Abú al-Hasan the Wag, and is generally believed to have been adapted from a story entitled “The Waking Man’s Fortune” in Edward’s collection of comic tales, 1570, which were retold somewhat differently in “Goulart’s Admirable and Memorable Histories,” 1607; both versions are reprinted in Mr. Hazlitt’s “Shakspeare Library,” vol. iv., part I, pp. 403-414. In Percy’s “Reliques of Ancient English Poetry” we find the adventure told in a ballad entitled “The Frolicksome Duke; or, the Tinker’s Good Fortune,” from the Pepys collection: “whether it may be thought to have suggested the hint to Shakspeare or is not rather of latter date,” says Percy, “the reader must determine:”
Now as fame does report, a young duke keeps a court,
One that pleases his fancy with frolicksome sport:
But amongst all the rest, here is one, I protest,
Which will make you to smile when you hear the true jest:
A poor tinker he found lying drunk on the ground,
As secure in a sleep as if laid in a swownd.
The duke said to his men, William, Richard, and Ben,
Take him home to my palace, we’ll sport with him then.
O’er a horse he was laid, and with care soon convey’d
To the palace, altho’ he was poorly arrai’d;
Then they stript off his cloaths, both his shirt, shoes, and hose,
And they put him in bed for to take his repose.
Having pull’d off his shirt, which was all over durt,
They did give him clean holland, this was no great hurt:
On a bed of soft down, like a lord of renown,
They did lay him to sleep the drink out of his crown.
In the morning when day, then admiring484 he lay,
For to see the rich chamber both gaudy and gay.
Now he lay something late, in his rich bed of state,
Till at last knights and squires they on him did wait;
And the chamberling bare, then did likewise declare,
He desired to know what apparel he’d ware:
The poor tinker amaz’d, on the gentleman gaz’d,
And admired how he to this honour was rais’d.
Tho’ he seem’d something mute, yet he chose a rich suit,
Which he straitways put on without longer dispute;
With a star on his side, which the tinker offt ey’d,
And it seem’d for to swell him no little with pride;
For he said to himself, Where is Joan my sweet wife?
Sure she never did see me so fine in her life.
From a convenient place, the right duke his good grace
Did observe his behavior in every case.
To a garden of state, on the tinker they wait,
Trumpets sounding before him: thought he this is great:
Where an hour or two, pleasant walks he did view,
With commanders and squires in scarlet in blew.
A find dinner was drest, both for him and his guests,
He was placed at the table above all the rest,
In a rich chair, or bed, lin’d with fine crimson red,
With a rich golden canopy over his head:
As he sat at his meat, the musick play’d sweet,
With the choicest of singing his joys to compleat.
While the tinker did dine, he had plenty of wine.
Rich canary with sherry and tent superfine,
Like a right honest soul, faith, he took off his bowl,
Till at last he began for to tumble and roul
From his chair to the floor, where he sleeping did snore,
Being seven times drunker than ever before.
Then the duke did ordain, they should strip him amain,
And restore him his old leather garments again:
’Twas a point next the worst, yet perform it they must,
And they carry’d him strait, where they found him at first;
Then he slept all the night, as indeed well he might,
But when he did waken, his joys took their flight.
For his glory to him so pleasant did seem,
That he thought it to be but a meer golden dream;
Till at length he was brought to the duke, where he sought
For a pardon as fearing he had set him at nought;
But his highness he said, Thou’rt a jolly bold blade,
Such a frolick before I think never was plaid.
Then his highness bespoke him a new suit and cloak,
Which he gave for the sake of this frolicksome joak;
Nay, and five hundred pound, with ten acres of ground
Thou shalt never, said he, range the counteries round,
Crying old brass to mend, for I’ll be thy good friend,
Nay, and Joan thy sweet wife shall my duchess attend.
Then the tinker reply’d, What! must Joan my sweet bride
Be a lady in chariots of pleasure to ride?
Must we have gold and land ev’ry day at command?
Then I shall be a squire I well understand:
Well I thank your good grace, and your love I embrace,
I was never before in so happy a case.
The same story is also cited in the “Anatomy of Melancholy,” part 2, memb. 4, from Ludovicus Vives in Epist.485 and Pont. Heuter in Rerum Burgund., as follows:
“It is reported of Philippus Bonus, that good Duke of Burgundy, that the said duke, at the marriage of Eleonora, sister to the King of Portugal, at Bruges in Flanders, which was solemnized in the deep of winter, when as by reason of the unseasonable (!) weather he could neither hawk nor hunt, and was now tyred with cards, dice, &c., and such other domestical sports, or to see ladies dance, with some of his courtiers, he would in the evening walk disguised all about the town. It so fortuned as he was walking late one night, he found a country fellow dead drunk, snorting on a bulk; he caused his followers to bring him to his palace, and there stripping him of his old clothes, and attiring him after the court fashion, when he waked, he and they were all ready to attend upon his excellency, persuading him that he was some great duke. The poor fellow, admiring how he came there, was served in state all the day long; after supper he saw them dance, heard musick, and the rest of those court-like pleasures; but late at night, when he was well-tipled, and again fast asleep they put on his old robes, and so conveyed him to the place where they first found him. Now the fellow had not made them so good sport the day before, as he did when he returned to himself; all the jest was to see how he looked upon it. In conclusion, after some little admiration, the poor man told his friends he had seen a vision, constantly beleeved it, would not otherwise be perswaded; and so the jest ended.”
I do not think that this is a story imported from the East: the adventure is just as likely to have happened in Bruges as in Baghdád; but the exquisite humor of the Arabian tale is wanting — even Shakspeare’s Christopher Sly is not to be compared with honest Abú al-Hasan the Wag.
This story of the Sleeper and the Waker recalls the similar device practised by the Chief of the Assassins — that formidable, murderous association, the terror of the Crusades — on promising novices. Von Hammer, in his “History of the Assassins,” end of Book iv., gives a graphic description of the charming gardens into which the novices were carried while insensible from hashish:
In the center of the Persian as well as the Assyrian territory of the Assassins, that is to say, both at Alamut and Massiat, were situated, in a space surrounded by walls, splendid gardens — true Eastern paradises. There were flower-beds and thickets of fruit-trees, intersected by canals, shady walks, and verdant glades, where the sparkling stream bubbled at every step; bowers of roses and vineyards; luxurious halls and porcelain kiosks, adorned with Persian carpets and Grecian stuffs, where drinking-vessels of gold, silver, and crystal glittered on trays of the same costly materials; charming maidens and handsome boys of Muhammed’s Paradise, soft as the cushions on which they reposed, and intoxicating as the wine which they presented. The music of the harp was mingled with the songs of birds, and the melodious tones of the songstress harmonized with the murmur of the brooks. Everything breathed pleasure, rapture, and sensuality. A youth, was deemed worthy by his strength and resolution to be initiated into the Assassin service, was invited to the table and conversation of the grand master, or grand prior; he was then intoxicated with hashish and carried into the garden, which on awaking he believed to be Paradise; everything around him, the houris in particular, contributing to confirm the delusion. After he had experienced as much of the pleasures of Paradise, which the Prophet has promised to the faithful, as his strength would admit; after quaffing enervating delight from the eyes of the houris and intoxicating wine from the glittering goblets; he sank into the lethargy produced by debility and the opiate, on awakening from which, after a few hours, he again found himself by the side of his superior. The latter endeavored to convince him that corporeally he had not left his side, but that spiritually he had been wrapped into Paradise and had there enjoyed a foretaste of the bliss which awaits the faithful who devote their lives to the service of the faith and the obedience of their chiefs.
483 Sir R. F. Burton has since found two more of “Galland’s ” tales in an Arabic text of The Nights, namely, Aladdin and Zeyn al-Asnam.
484 i.e. wondering; thus Lady Macbeth says:
“You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
With most admired disorder."—-Macbeth, iii. 4
485 Ludovicus Vives, one of the most learned of Spanish authors, was born at Valentia in 1492 and died in 1540.
The precise date of the Persian original of this romance (“Bakhtyár Náma”) has not been ascertained, but it was probably composed before the beginning of the fifteenth century, since there exists in the Bodleian Library a unique Turkí version, in the Uygur language and characters, which was written in 1434. Only three of the tales have hitherto been found in other Asiatic storybooks. The Turkí version, according to M. Jaubert, who gives an account of the MS. and a translation of one of the tales in the Journal Asiatique, tome x. 1827, is characterised by “great sobriety of ornament and extreme simplicity of style, and the evident intention on the part of the translator to suppress all that may not have appeared to him sufficiently probable, and all that might justly be taxed with exaggeration;” and he adds that “apart from the interest which the writing and phraseology of the work may possess for those who study the history of languages, it is rather curious to see how a Tátár translator sets to work to bring within the range of his readers stories embellished in the original with descriptions and images familiar, doubtless, to a learned and refined nation like the Persians, for foreign to shepherds.”
At least three different versions are known to the Malays — different in the frame, or leading story, if not in the subordinate tales. One of those is described in the second volume of Newbold’s work on Malacca, the frame of which is similar to the Persian original and its Arabian derivative, excepting that the name of the king is Zádbokhtin and that of the minister’s daughter (who is nameless in the Persian) is Mahrwat. Two others are described in Van den Berg’s account of Malay, Arabic, Javanese and other MSS. published at Batavia, 1877: p. 21, No. 132 is entitled “The History of Ghulám, son of Zádbukhtán, King of Adán, in Persia,” and the frame also corresponds with our version, with the important difference that the robber-chief who had brought up Ghulám, “learning that he had become a person of consequence, came to his residence to visit him, but finding him imprisoned, he was much concerned, and asked the king’s pardon on his behalf, telling him at the same time how he had formerly found Ghulám in the jungle; from which the king knew that Ghulám was his son.” The second version noticed by Van den Berg (p. 32, No. 179), though similar in title to the Persian original, “History of Prince Bakhtyár,” differs very materially in the leading story, the outline of which is as follows: This prince, when his father was put to flight by a younger brother, who wished to dethrone him, was born in a jungle, and abandoned by his parents. A merchant named Idrís took charge of him and brought him up. Later on he became one of the officers of state with his own father, who had in the meanwhile found another kingdom, and decided with fairness, the cases brought before him. He was, however, put in prison on account of a supposed attempt on the king’s life, and would have been put to death had he not stayed the execution by telling various beautiful stories. Even the king came repeatedly to listen to him. At one of these visits Bakhtyár’s foster-father Idrís was present, and related to his adopted son how he had found him in the jungle. The king, on hearing this, perceived that it was his son who had been brought up by Idrís, recognised Bakhtyár as such, as made over to him the kingdom."— I have little doubt that this romance is of Indian extraction.
This agrees pretty closely with the Turkí version of the same story (rendered into French by M. Jaubert), though in the latter the names of the characters are the same as in the Persian, King Dádín and the Wazírs Kámgár and Kárdár. In the Persian story, the damsel is tied hands and feet and placed upon a camel, which is then turned into a dreary wilderness. “Here she suffered from the intense heat and from thirst; but she resigned herself to the will of Providence, conscious of her own innocence. Just then the camel lay down, and on the spot a fountain of delicious water suddenly sprang forth; the cords which bound her hands and feet dropped off; she refreshed herself by a draught of the water, and fervently returned thanks to Heaven for this blessing and her wonderful preservation.” This two-fold miracle does not appear in the Turkí and Arabian versions. It is not the cameleer of the King of Persia, but of King Dádín, who meets with the pious damsel in the wilderness. He takes her to his own house and one day relates his adventure to King Dádín, who expresses a wish to see such a prodigy of sanctity. The conclusion of the Persian story is quite dramatic: The cameleer, having consented, returned at once to his house, accompanied by the king, who waited at the door of the apartment where the daughter of Kámgár was engaged in prayer. When she had concluded he approached, and with astonishment recognised her. Having tenderly embraced her, he wept, and entreated her forgiveness. This she readily granted, but begged that he would conceal himself in the apartment while she should converse with Kárdár, whom she sent for. When he arrived, and beheld her with a thousand expressions of fondness, he inquired how she had escaped, and told her that on the day the king had banished her into the wilderness, he had sent people to seek her and bring her to him. “How much better would it have been,” he added, “had you followed my advice, and agreed to my proposal of poisoning the king, who, I said, would one day destroy you as he had done your father! But you rejected my advice, and declared yourself ready to submit to whatever Providence should decree. Hereafter you will pay more attention to my words. But now let us not think of what is past. I am your slave, and you are dearer to me than my own eyes.” So saying, he attempted to clasp the daughter of Kámgár in his arms, when the king, who was concealed behind the hangings, rushed furiously on him and put him to death. After this he conducted the damsel to his palace, and constantly lamented his precipitancy in having killed her father. — This tale seems to have been taken from the Persian “Tútí Náma,” or Parrot-book, composed by Nahkshabí about the year 1306;486 it occurs in the 51st Night of the India Office MS. 2573, under the title of “Story of the Daughter of the Vazír Khássa, and how she found safety through the blessing of her piety:” the name of the king is Bahram, and the Wazírs are called Khássa and Khalássa.
486 There was an older “Tútí Náma,” which Nakhshabí modernised, made from a Sanskrit story-book, now lost, but its modern representative is the “Suka Saptatí,” or Seventy (Tales) of a Parrot in which most of Nakhshabi’s tales are found.
The catastrophe of this story forms the subject of the Lady’s 37th tale in the text of the Turkish “Forty Vezírs,” translated by Mr. E. J. W. Gibb. This is how it goes:
In the palace of the world there was a king, and that king had three vezírs, but there was rivalry between them. Two of them day and night incited the king against the third, saying, “He is a traitor.” But the king believed them not. At length they promised two pages much gold, and instructed them thus: “When the king has lain down, ere he yet fall asleep, do ye feign to think him asleep, and while talking with each other, say at a fitting time, ‘I have heard from such a one that yon vezír says this and that concerning the king, and that he hates him; many people say that vezír is an enemy to our king.’” So they did this, and when the king heard this, he said in his heart, “What those vezírs said is then true; when the very pages have heard it somewhat it must indeed have some foundation. Till now, I believed not those vezírs, but it is then true.” And the king executed that vezír. The other vezírs were glad and gave the pages the gold they had promised. So they took it and went to a private place, and while they were dividing it one of them said, “I spake first; I want more.” The other said, “If I had not said he was an enemy to our king, the king would not have killed him; I shall take more.” And while they were quarrelling with one another the king passed by there, and he listened attentively to their words, and when he learned of the matter, he said, “Dost thou see, they have by a trick made us kill that hapless vezír.” And he was repentant.
The Persian original has been very considerably amplified by the Arabian translator. In the “Bakhtyár Náma” there is not a word about the two brothers and their fair cousin, the attempted murder of the infant, and the adventures of the fugitive young prince. This story has also been taken from the “Tútí Náma” of Nakhshabú, Night the 50th of the Indian Office MS. 2573, where, under the title of “Story of the Daughter of the Kaysar of Roum, and her trouble by reason of her son,” it is told somewhat as follows:
In former times there was a great king, whose army was numerous and whose treasury was full to overflowing; but, having no enemy to contend with, he neglected to pay his soldiers, in consequence of which they were in a state of destitution and discontent. At length one day the soldiers went to the prime minister and made their condition known to him. The vazír promised that he would speedily devise a plan by which they should have employment and money. Next morning he presented himself before the king, and said that it was widely reported the Kaysar of Rou, had a daughter unsurpassed for beauty — one who was fit only for such a great monarch as his Majesty; and suggested that it would be advantageous if an alliance were formed between two such great potentates. The notion pleased the king well, and he forthwith despatched to Roum an ambassador with rich gifts, and requested the Kaysar to grant him his daughter in marriage. But the Kaysar waxed wroth at this, and refused to give his daughter to the king. When the ambassador returned thus unsuccessful, the king, enraged at being made of no account, resolved to make war upon the Kaysar; so, opening the doors of his treasury, he distributed much money among his troops, and then, “with a woe-bringing host, and a blood-drinking army, he trampled Roum and the folk of Roum in the dust.” And when the Kaysar was become powerless, he sent his daughter to the king, who married her according to the law of Islam.
Now that princess had a son by a former husband, and the Kaysar had said to her before she departed, “Beware that thou mention not thy son, for my love for his society is great, and I cannot part with him.”487 But the princess was sick at heart for the absence of her son, and she was ever pondering how she should speak to the king about him, and in what manner she might contrive to bring him to her. It happened one day the king gave her a string of pearls and a casket of jewels. She said, “With my father is a slave who is well skilled in the science of jewels.” The king replied, “If I should ask that slave of thy father, would he give him to me?” “Nay,” said she, “for he holds him in the place of a son. But if the king desire him, I will send a merchant to Roum, and I myself will give him a token, and with pleasant wiles and fair speeches will bring him hither.” Then the king sent for a clever merchant who knew Arabic eloquently and the language of Roum, and gave him goods for trading and sent him to Roum with the object of procuring the slave. But the daughter of the Kaysar said privily to the merchant, “That slave is my son; I have, for a good reason, said to the king that he is a slave; so thou must bring him as a slave, and let it be thy duty to take care of him.” In due course the merchant brought the youth to the king’s service; and when the king saw his fair face, and discovered in him many pleasing and varied accomplishments, he treated him with distinction and favour, and conferred on the merchant a robe of honour and gifts. His mother saw him from afar, and was pleased with receiving a secret salutation from him.
One day the eking had gone to the chase, and the palace remained void of rivals; so the mother called in her son, kissed his fair face, and told him the tale of her great sorrow. A chamberlain became aware of the secret and another suspicion fell upon him, and he said to himself, “The harem of the king is the sanctuary of security and the palace of protection. If I speak not of this, I shall be guilty of treachery and shall have wrought unfaithfulness.” When the king returned from the chase, the chamberlain related to him what he had seen, and the eking was angry and said, “This woman hath deceived me with words and deeds, and has brought hither her desire by craft and cunning. This conjecture must be true, else why did she play such a trick? And why did she hatch such a plot? And why did she send the merchant?” Then the king, enraged, went into the harem, and the queen saw from his countenance that the occurrence of the night before had become known to him, and she said, “Be it not that I see the king angry?” He said, “How should I not be angry? Thou, by craft and trickery, and intrigue, and plotting, hast brought thy desire from Roum — what wantonness is this that thou hast done?” And then he thought to slay her, but he forbore, because of his great love for her. But he ordered the chamberlain to carry the youth to some obscure place, and straightway sever his head from his body. When the poor mother saw this, she well-nigh fell on her face, and her soul was near leaving her body. But she knew that sorry would not avail, and so she restrained herself.
And when the chamberlain took the youth into his own house, he said to him, “O youth, knowest thou not that the harem of the king is the sanctuary of security? What great treachery is this that thou hast perpetrated?” The youth replied, “That queen is my mother, and I am her true son. Because of her natural delicacy, she said not to the king that she had a son by another husband. And when yearning came over her, she contrived to bring me here from Roum; and while the king was engaged in the chase, maternal love stirred in her, and she called me to her and embraced me.” On hearing this, the chamberlain said to himself, “What is passing in his mother’s breast? What have I not done I can yet do, and it were better that I preserve this youth some days, for such a rose may not be wounded through idle words, and such a bough may not be broken by a breath. For some day the truth of this matter will be disclosed, and it will become known to the king when repentance may be of no avail.” So he went before the king and said, “That which was commanded have I fulfilled.” On hearing this the king’s wrath was to some extent removed but his trust in the Kaysar’s daughter was departed; while she, poor creature, was grieved and dazed at the loss of her son.
Now in the palace-harem there was an old woman, who said to the queen, “How is it that I find thee sorrowful?” And the queen told the whole story, concealing nothing. This old woman was a heroine in the field of craft, and she answered, “Keep thy mind at ease; I will devise a stratagem by which the heart of the king will be pleased with thee, and every grief he has will vanish from his heart.” The queen said that, if she did so, she should be amply rewarded. One day the old woman, seeing the king alone, said to him, “Why is thy former aspect altered? And why are there traces of care and anxiety visible on thy countenance?” The king then told her all. Then said the old woman, “I have an amulet of the charms of Sulayman, in the Syriac language, and in the writing of the jinn (genii). When the queen is asleep, do thou place it on her breast, and whatever it may be, she will tell the truth of it. But take care, fall not asleep, but listen well to what she says.” The king wondered at this and said, “Give me that amulet, that the truth of this matter may be learned.” So the old woman gave him the amulet, and then went to the queen and explained what she had done, and said, “Do thou feign to be asleep, and relate the whole of thy story faithfully.”
When a watch of the night was past, the king laid the amulet upon his wife’s breast, and she thus began: “By a former husband I had a son, and when my father gave me to this king, I was ashamed to say I had a tall son. When my yearning passed all bounds, I brought him here by an artifice. One day that the king was gone to the chase I called him into the house, when, after the way of mothers, I took him in my arms and kissed him. This reached the king’s ears; he unwittingly gave it another construction, and cut off the head of that innocent boy, and withdrew from me his own heart. Alike is my son lost to me and the king angry.” When the king heard these words he kissed her and exclaimed, “O my life, what an error is this thou hast committed? Thou hast brought calumny upon thyself, and hast given such a son to the winds, and hast made me ashamed!” Straightway he called the chamberlain, and said, “That boy whom thou hast killed is the son of my beloved and the darling of my beauty! Where is his grave, that we may make there a guest-house?” The chamberlain said, “That youth is yet alive. When the king commanded his death, I was about to kill him, but he said, ‘That queen is my mother. Through modesty before the king, she revealed not the secret that she has a tall son. Kill me not; it may be that some day the truth will become known, and repentance profiteth not, and regret is useless.” The king commanded them to bring the youth; so they brought him forthwith. And when the mother saw the face of her son, she thanked God and praised the Most High, and became one of the Muslims, and from the sect of unbelievers came into the faith of Islam. And the king favoured the chamberlain in the highest degree, and they passed the rest of their lives in comfort and ease.
487 According to Lescallier’s French translation of the “Bakhtyár Náma,” made from two MSS. = “She had previously had a lover, with whom, unknown to her father, she had intimate relations, and had given birth to a beautiful boy, whose education she secretly confided to some trusty servants.”
This tale, as Sir R. F. Burton remarks, is a rechauffé of that of the King and the Wazir’s Wife in the “Malice of Women,” or the Seven Wazírs (vol. vi. 129); and at p. 308 we have yet another variant.488 it occurs in all the Eastern texts of the Book of Sindibád, and it is commonly termed by students of that cycle of stories “The Lion’s Track,” from the parabolical manner in which the husband justifies his conduct before the king. I have cited some versions in the Appendix to my edition of the Book of Sindibád (p. 256 ff.), and to these may be added the following Venetian variant, from Crane’s “Italian Popular Tales,” as an example of how a story becomes garbled in passing orally from one generation unto another generation.
A king, averse from marriage, commanded his steward to remain single. The latter, however, one day saw a beautiful girl named Vigna and married her secretly. Although he kept her closely confined in her chamber, the king became suspicious, and sent the steward on an embassy. After his departure the king entered the apartment occupied by him, and saw his wife asleep. He did not disturb her, but in leaving the room accidentally dropped one of his gloves on the bed. When the husband returned he found the glove, but kept a discreet silence, ceasing, however, all demonstration of affection, believing his wife had been unfaithful. The king, desirous to see again the beautiful woman, made a feast and ordered the steward to bring his wife. He denied that he had one, but brought her at last, and while every one else was talking gaily at the feast she was silent. The king observed it and asked the cause of her silence, and she answered with a pun on her own name, “Vineyard I was, and Vineyard I am. I was loved and no longer am. I know not for what reason the Vineyard has lost its season.” Her husband, who heard this, replied, “Vineyard thou wast, and Vineyard thou art: the Vineyard lost its season, for the lion’s claw.” The king, who understood what he meant, answered, “I entered the Vineyard; I touched the leaves; but I swear by my crown that I have not tasted the fruit.” Then the steward understood that his wife was innocent, and the two made peace, and always after lived happy and contented.
So far as I am aware, this tale of “The Lion’s Track” is not popularly known in any European country besides Italy; and it is not found in any of the Western versions of the Book of Sindibád, generally known under the title of the “History of the Seven Wise Masters,” how, then, did it reach Venice, and become among the people “familiar in their mouths as household words?” I answer, that the intimate commercial relations which long existed between the Venetian Republic and Egypt and Syria are amply sufficient to account for the currency of this and scores of other Eastern tales in Italy. This is not one of those fictions introduced into the south of Europe through the Ottomans, since Boccaccio has made use of the first part of it in his “Decameron,” Day I. nov. 5; and it is curious to observe that the garbled Venetian popular version has preserved the chief characteristic of the Eastern story — the allegorical reference to the king as a lion and his assuring the husband that the lion had done no injury to his “Vineyard.”
488 There is a slight mistake in the passage in p. 313 supplied from the story in vol. vi. It is not King Shah Bakht, but the other king, who assures his chamberlain that “the lion” has done him no injury.
While the frame-story of this interesting group is similar to that of the Ten Wazírs (vol. i. p. 37), insomuch as in both a king’s favourite is sentenced to death in consequence of the false accusations of his enemies, and obtains a respite from day to day by relating stories to the king, there is yet a very important difference: Like those of the renowned Shahrazad, the stories which Al-Rahwan tells have no particular, at least no uniform, “purpose,” his sole object being to prolong his life by telling the king an entertaining story, promising, when he has ended his recital, to relate one still “stranger” the next night, if the king will spare his life another day. On the other hand, Bakhtyár, while actuated by the same motive, appeals to the king’s reason, by relating stories distinctly designed to exhibit the evils of hasty judgements and precipitate conduct — in fact, to illustrate the maxim,
Each order given by a reigning king,
Should after long reflection be expressed;
For it may be that endless woe will spring
From a command he paused not to digest.
And in this respect they are consistent with the circumstances of the case, like the tales of the Book of Sindibád, from which the frame of the Ten Wazírs was imitated, and in which the Wazírs relate stories showing the depravity and profligacy of women and that no reliance should be placed on their unsupported assertions, and to these the lady opposes equally cogent stories setting forth the wickedness and perfidy of men. Closely resembling the frame-story of the Ten Wazírs, however, is that of a Tamil romance entitled, “Alakeswara Kathá,” a copy of which, written on palm leaves, was in the celebrated Mackenzie collection, of which Dr. H. H. Wilson published a descriptive catalogue; it is “a story of the Rájá of Alakespura and his four ministers, who, being falsely accused of violating the sanctity of the inner apartments, vindicate their innocence and disarm the king’s wrath by relating a number of stories.” Judging by the specimen given by Wilson, the well-known tale of the Lost Camel, it seems probable that the ministers’ stories, like those of Bakhtyár, are suited to their own case and illustrate the truth of the adage that “appearances are often deceptive.” Whether in the Siamese collection “Nonthuk Pakkaranam” (referred to in vol. i. p. 127) the stories related by the Princess Kankras to the King of Pataliput (Palibothra), to save her father’s life, are similarly designed, does not appear from Benfey’s notice of the work in his paper in “Orient and Occident,” iii. 171 ff. He says that the title of the book, “Nonthuk Pakkaranam,” is taken from the name of a wise ox, Nonthuk, that plays the principal part in the longest of the tales, which are all apparently translated from the Sanskrit, in which language the title would be Nandaka Prakaranam, the History of Nandaka.
Most of the tales related by the wazir Al-Rahwan are not only in themselves entertaining, but are of very considerable importance from the story-comparer’s point of view, since in this group occur Eastern forms of tales which were known in Italy in the 14th century, and some had spread over Europe even earlier. The reader will have seen from Sir R. F. Burton’s notes that not a few of the stories have their parallels or analogues in countries far apart, and it is interesting to find four of them which properly belong to the Eastern texts of the Book of Sindibad, with the frame-story of which that of this group has so close an affinity.
“Quoth she, I have a bangle; sell it and buy seed pearls with the price; then round them and fashion them into great pearls.”
For want of a more suitable place, I shall here reproduce an account of the “Method of making false pearls” (nothing else being meant in the above passage), cited, from Post. Com. Dict. In vol. xxvi. Of Rees’ Cyclopaedia,” London, 1819:
“Take of thrice distilled vinegar two pounds, Venice turpentine one pound, mix them together into a mass and put them into a cucurbit, fit a head and receiver to it, and after you have luted the joints set it when dry on a sand furnace, to distil the vinegar from it; do not give it too much heat, lest the stuff swell up. After this put the vinegar into another glass cucurbit in which there is a quantity of seed pearls wrapped in a piece of thin silk, but so as not to touch the vinegar; put a cover or head upon the cucurbit, lute it well and put it in bal. MariF, where you may let it remain a fortnight. The heat of the balneum will raise the fumes of the vinegar, and they will soften the pearls in the silk and bring them to the consistence of a paste, which being done, take them out and mould them to what bigness, form, and shape you please. Your mould must be of fine silver, the inside gilt; you must also refrain from touching the paste with your fingers, but use silver-gilt utensils, with which fill your moulds. When they are moulded, bore them through with a hog’s bristle or gold wire, and then tread them again on gold wire, and put them into a glass, close it up, and set them in the sun to dry. After they are thoroughly dry, put them in a glass matrass into a stream of running water and leave them there twenty days; by that time they will contract the natural hardness and solidity of pearls. Then take them out of th matrass and hang them in mercurial water, where they will moisten, swell, and assume their Oriental beauty; after which shift them into a matrass hermitically closed to prevent any water coming to them, and let it down into a well, to continue there about eight days. Then draw the matrass up, and in opening it you will find pearls exactly resembling Oriental ones.” (Here follows a recipe for making the mercurial water used in the process, with which I need not occupy more space.)
A similar formula, “To make of small pearls a necklace of large ones,” is given in the “Lady’s Magazine” for 1831, vol. iv., p. 119, which is said to be extracted from a scarce old book. Thus, whatever mystery may surround the art is Asiatic countreis there is evidently none about it in Europe. The process appears to be somewhat tedious and complicated, but is doubtless profitable.
In Philostratus’ Life of Appolonius there is a curious passage about pearl-making which has been generally considered as a mere “traveller’s tale”: Apollonious relates that the inhabitants of the shores of the Red Sea, after having calmed the water by means of oil, dived after the shell-fish, enticed them with some bait to open their shells, and having pricked the animals with a sharp-pointed instrument, received the liquor that flowed from them in small holes made in an iron vessel, in which is hardened into real pearls. — It is stated by several reputable writers that the Chinese do likewise at the present day. And Sir R. F. Burton informs me that when he was on the coast of Midian he found the Arabs were in the habit of “growing” pearls by inserting a grain of sand into the shells.
The diverting adventures related in the first part of this tale should be of peculiar interest to the student of Shakspeare as well as to those engaged in tracing the genealogy of popular fiction. Jonathan Scott has given — for reasons of his own — a meagre abstract of a similar tale which occurs in the “Bahár-i-Dánish” (vol. iii. App., p. 291), as follows:
A young man, being upon business in a certain city, goes on a hunting excursion, and, fatigued with the chase, stops at a country house to ask refreshment. The lady of the mansion receives him kindly, and admits him as her lover. In the midst of their dalliance the husband comes home, and the young man had no recourse to escape discovery but to jump into a basin which was in the court of the house, and stand with head in a hollow gourd that happened to be in the water. The husband, surprised to see the gourd stationary in the water, which was itself agitated by the wind, throws a stone at it, when the lover slips from beneath it and holds his breath till almost suffocated. Fortunately, the husband presently retires with his wife into an inner room of the house, and thus the young man was enabled to make good his escape.
The next day he relates his adventure before a large company at a coffee-house. The husband happens to be one of the audience, and, meditating revenge, pretends to admire the gallantry of the young man and invites him to his home. The lover accompanies him, and on seeing his residence is overwhelmed with confusion; but, recovering himself, resolves to abide all hazards, in hopes of escaping by some lucky stratagem. His host introduces him to his wife, and begs him to relate his merry adventure before her, having resolved, when he should finish, to put them both to death. The young man complies, but with an artful presence of mind exclaims at the conclusion, “Glad was I when I awoke from so alarming a dream.” The husband upon this, after some questions, is satisfied that he had only told his dream, and, having entertained him nobly, dismisses him kindly.
This story is told in an elaborate form by Ser Giovanni Fiorentino, in “Il Pecorone” (The Big Sheep, or, as Dunlop has it, The Dunce), which was begun in 1378 but not published till 1554 (at Milan). It is the second novel of the First Day and has been thus translated by Roscoe:
There were once two very intimate friends, both of the family of Saveli, in Rome; the name of one of whom was Bucciolo; that of the other Pietro Paolo, both of good birth and easy circumstances. Expressing a mutual wish to study for a while together at Bologna they took leave of their relatives and set out. One of them attached himself to the study of the civil law, the other to that of the canon law, and thus they continued to apply themselves for some length of time. But the subject of Decretals takes a much narrower range than is embraced by the common law, so Bucciolo, who pursued the former, made greater progress than did Pietro Paolo, and, having taken a licentiate’s degree, he began to think of returning to Rome. “You see, my dear fellow student,” he observed to his friend Paolo, “I am now a licentiate, and it is time for me to think of moving homewards.” “Nay, not so,” replied his companion; “I have to entreat you will not think of leaving me here this winter. Stay for me till spring, and we can return together. In the meantime you may pursue some other study, so that you need not lose any time;” and to this Bucciolo at length consented, promising to await his relative’s own good time.
Having thus resolved, he had immediate recourse to his former tutor, informing him of his determination to bear his friend company a little longer, and entreating to be employed in some pleasant study to beguile the period during which he had to remain. The professor begged him to suggest something he should like, as he should be very happy to assist him in its attainment. “My worthy tutor,” replied Bucciolo, “I think I should like to learn the way in which one falls in love, and the best manner to begin.” “O very good!” cried the tutor, laughing. “You could not have hit upon anything better, for you must know that, if such be your object, I am a complete adept in the art. To lose no time, in the first place go next Sunday to the church of the Frati Minori (Friars Minor of St. Francis), where all the ladies will be clustered together, and pay proper attention during service in order to discover if any one of them in particular happens to please you. When you have done this, keep your eye upon her after service, to see the way she takes to her residence, and then come back to me. And let this be the first lesson — the first part — of that in which it is my intention to instruct you.” Bucciolo went accordingly, and taking his station the next Sunday in the church, as he had been directed, his eyes, wandering in every direction, were fixed upon all the pretty women in the place, and upon one in particular, who pleased him above all the rest. She was by far the most beautiful and attractive lady he could discover, and on leaving church he took care to obey his master and follow her until he had made himself acquainted with her residence. Nor was it long before the young lady began to perceive that the student was smitten with her; upon which Bucciolo returned to his master and informed him of what he had done. “I have,” said he, “learned as much as you ordered me, and have found somebody I like very well.” “So far, good,” cried the professor, not a little amused at the sort of science to which his pupil had thus seriously devoted himself —“so far, good! And now observe what I have next to say to you: Take care to walk two or three times a day very respectfully before her house, casting your eyes about you in such a way that no one may catch you staring in her face; look in a modest and becoming manner, so that she cannot fail to notice and be struck with it. And then return to me; and this, sir, will be the second lesson in this gay science.”
So the scholar went and promenaded with great discretion before the lady’s door, who observed that he appeared to be passing to and fro out of respect to one of the inhabitants. This attracted her attention, for which Bucciolo very discreetly expressed his gratitude by looks and bows, which being as often returned, the scholar began to be aware that the lady liked him. He immediately went and told the professor all that had passed, who replied, “Come, you have done very well. I am hitherto quite satisfied. It is now time for you to find some way of speaking to her, which you may easily do by means of those gipsies who haunt the streets of Bologna, crying ladies’ veils, purses and other articles for sale. Send word by her that you are the lady’s most faithful, devoted servant, and that there is no one in the world you so much wish to please. In short, let her urge your suit, and take care to bring the answer to me as soon as you have received it. I will then tell you how you are to proceed.”
Departing in all haste, he soon found a little old pedlar woman, quite perfect in the trade, to whom he said he should take it as a particular favour if she would do one thing, for which he would reward her handsomely. Upon this she declared her readiness to serve him in anything he pleased. “For you know,” she added, “it is my business to get money in every way I can.” Bucciolo gave her two florins, saying, ‘I wish you to go for me to-day as far as the Via Maccarella, where resides a young lady of the name of Giovanna, for whom I have the very highest regard. Pray tell her so, and recommend me to her most affectionately, so as to obtain for me her good graces by every means in your power. I entreat you to have my interest at heart, and to say such pretty things as she cannot refuse to hear.” “O leave that to me, sir,” said the little old woman, “I will not fail to say a good word for you at the proper time.” “Delay not,” said Bucciolo, “but go now, and I will wait for you here;” and she set off at once, taking her basket of trinkets under her arm. On approaching the place, she saw the lady before the door, enjoying the air and curtseying to her very low, “Do I happen to have anything here you would fancy?” she said, displaying her wares. “Pray, take something, madam — whatever pleases you best.” Veils, stays, purses, and mirrors were now spread in the most tempting way before the lady’s eyes. Out of all these things her attention seemed to be most attracted by a beautiful purse, which, she observed, if she could afford, she should like to purchase. “Nay, madam,” exclaimed the crone, “do not think anything about the price — take anything yo please, since they are all paid for already, I assure you.” Surprised at hearing this, and perceiving the very respectful manner of the speaker, the lady rejoined, “Do you know what you are saying? What do you mean by that?” The old woman, pretending now to be much affected, said, “Well, madam, if it must be so, I shall tell you. It is very true that a young gentleman of the name of Bucciolo sent me hither; one who loves you better than all the world besides. There is nothing he would not do to please you, and indeed he appears to very wretched because he cannot speak to you, and he is so very good, that it is quite a pity. I think it will be the death of him, and then he is such a fine — such an elegant — young man, the more is the pity!” on hearing this, the lady, blushing deeply, turned sharply round upon the little old woman, exclaiming, “O you wicked creature! were it not for the sake of my own reputation, I would give you such a lesson that you should remember it to the latest day of your life! A pretty story to come before decent people with! Are you not ashamed of yourself to let such words come out of your mouth?” then seizing an iron bar that lay across the doorway, “Ill betide you, little wretch!” she cried, as she brandished it. “If you ever come this way again, depend on it, you will never go back alive!” the trembling old trot, quickly bundling up her wares, scampered off, in dread of feeling that cruel weapon on her shoulders, nor did she think of stopping till she had reached the place where Bucciolo stood waiting her return. Eagerly inquiring the news and how she succeeded, “O very badly — very badly,” answered the crone. “I was never in such a fright in all my life. Why, she will neither see nor listen to you, and if I had not run away, I should have felt the weight of a great iron bar upon my shoulders. For my own part, I shall go there no more; and I advise you, signor, to look to yourself how you proceed in such affairs in future.”
Poor Bucciolo became quite disconsolate, and returned in all haste to acquaint the professor with this unlucky result. But the professor, not a whit cast down, consoled him, saying, “Do not despair; a tree is not levelled at a single stroke, you know. I think you must have a repetition of your lesson to-night. So go and walk before her door as usual; notice how she eyes you, and whether she appears angry or not, and then come back again to me.” Bucciolo accordingly proceeded without delay to the lady’s house. The moment she perceived him she called her maid and said to her, “Quick, quick — hasten after the young man — that is he, and tell him from me that he must come and speak with me this evening without fail — without fail.” The girl soon came up with Bucciolo and thus addressed him: “My lady, signor, my lady, Giovanna, would be glad of your company this evening, she would be very glad to speak with you.” Greatly surprised at this, Bucciolo replied, “Tell your lady I shall be most happy to wait upon her,” so saying, he set off once more to the professor, and reported the progress of the affair. But this time the master looked a little more serious; for, from some trivial circumstances put together, he began to entertain suspicions that the lady was (as it really turned out) no other than his own wife. So he rather anxiously inquired of Bucciolo whether he intended to accept the invitation. “To be sure I do,” replied his pupil. “Then,” said the professor, “promise that you will come here before you set off.” “Certainly I will,” answered Bucciolo readily, and took his leave.
Now Bucciolo was far from suspecting that the lady bore so near a relationship to his respected tutor, although the latter began to be rather uneasy as to the result, feeling some twinges of jealousy which were by no means pleasant. For he passed most of his winter evenings at the college where he gave lectures, and not unfrequently remained there for the night. “I should be sorry,” said he to himself, “if this young gentleman were learning these things at my expense, and I must therefore know the real state of the case.” In the evening his pupil called according to promise, saying, “Worthy master, I am now ready to go.” “Well, go,” replied the professor; “but be wise, Signor Bucciolo — be wise and think more than once what you are about.” “Trust me for that,” said the scholar, a little piqued: “I shall go well provided, and not walk into the mouth of danger unarmed.” And away he went, furnished with a good cuirass, a rapier, and a stiletto in his belt. He was no sooner on his way than the professor slipped out quietly after him, dogging his steps closely, until, trembling with rage, he saw him stop at his own house-door, which, on a smart tap being given, was quickly opened by the lady herself and the pupil admitted. When the professor saw that it was indeed his own wife, he was quite overwhelmed and thought, “Alas, I fear this young fellow has learned more than he confesses at my expense;” and vowing to be revenged, he ran back to the college, where arming himself with sword and dagger, he then hastened to his house in a terrible passion. Arriving at his own door, he knocked loudly, and the lady, sitting before the fire with Bucciolo, instantly knew it was her husband, so taking hold of Bucciolo, she concealed him hurriedly under a heap of damp clothes lying on a table near the window for ironing, which done, she ran to the door and inquired who was there. “Open quickly,” exclaimed the professor. “You vile woman, you shall soon know who is here!” On opening the door, she beheld him with a drawn sword, and cried in well-affected alarm, “O my dearest life, what means this?” “You know very well what it means,” said he. “The villain is now in the house.” “Good Heaven! what is that you say?” exclaimed the lady. “Are you gone out of your wits? Come and search the house, and if you find anybody, I will give you leave to kill me on the spot. What! do you think I should now begin to misconduct myself as I never before did – as none of my family ever did before? Beware lest the Evil One should be tempting you, and, suddenly depriving you of your senses, draw you to perdition!” But the professor, calling for candles, began to search the house from the cellar upwards — among the tubs and casks — in every place but the right place — running his sword through the beds and under the beds, and into every inch of the bedding — leaving no corner or crevice of the whole house untouched. The lady accompanied him with a candle in her hand, frequently interrupting him with, “Say your beads — say your beads, good signor; it is certain that the Evil One is dealing with you, for were I half so bad as you esteem me, I would kill myself with my own hands. But I entreat you not to give way to this evil suggestion: oppose the adversary while you can.” Hearing these virtuous observations of his wife, and not being able to discover any one after the strictest search, the professor began to think that he must, after all, be possessed, and presently extinguished the lights and returned to the college. The lady, on shutting the door after him, called out to Bucciolo to come from his hiding place, and then, stirring the fire, began to prepare a fine capon for supper, with some delicious wines and fruits. And thus they regaled themselves, highly entertained with each other, nor was it their least satisfaction that the professor had just left them, apparently convinced that they had learned nothing at his expense.
Proceeding to the college the next morning, Bucciolo, without the least suspicion of the truth, informed his master that he had something for his ear which he was sure would make him laugh. “How so?” demanded the professor. “Why,” said his pupil, “you must know that last night, just as I had entered the lady’s house, who should come in but her husband, and in such a rage! He searched the whole house from top to bottom, without being able to find me. I lay under a heap of newly-washed clothes, which were not half dry. In short, the lady placed her part so well that the poor gentleman forthwith took his leave, and we afterwards ate a fine capon for supper and drank such wines — and with such zest! It was really one of the pleasantest evenings I ever spent in my life. But I think I’ll go and take a nap, for I promised to return this evening about the same hour.” “Then be sure before you go,” said the professor, trembling with suppressed rage, “be sure to come and tell me when you set out.” “O certainly,” responded Bucciolo, and away he went. Such was now the unhappy tutor’s condition as to render him incapable of delivering a single lecture during the whole day, and such was his extreme vexation and eagerness for evening, that he spent his time in arming himself with sword and dagger and cuirass, meditating only upon deeds of blood. At the appointed time came Bucciolo, with the utmost innocence, saying, “My dear master, I am going now.” “Yes, go,” replied the professor, “and come back to-morrow morning, if you can, and tell me how you have fared.” “I intend doing so,” said Bucciolo, and departed at a brisk pace for the house of the lady.
Armed cap-B-pie, the professor ran out after him, keeping pretty close to his heels, with the intention of catching him just as he entered. But the lady, being on the watch, opened the door suddenly for the pupil and shut it in her husband’s face. The professor began to knock and to call out with a furious noise. Extinguishing the light in a moment, the lady placed Bucciolo behind the door, and throwing her arms round her husband’s neck as he entered, motioned to her lover while thus she held his enemy to make his escape, and he, upon the husband’s rushing forward, slipped out from behind the door unperceived. She then began to scream as loud as she could, “Help! Help! The professor has gone mad! Will nobody help me?” for he was in an ungovernable rage, and she clung faster to him than before. The neighbors running to her assistance and seeing the peaceable professor armed with deadly weapons, and his wife crying out, “Help, for the love of Heaven! — too much study hath driven him mad!”{ they readily believed such to be the fact. “Come, good signor,” they said, “what is all this about? Try to compose yourself — nay, do not struggle so hard, but let us help you to your couch.” “How can I rest, think you,” he replied, “while this wicked woman harbours paramours in my house? I saw him come in with my own eyes.” “Wretch that I am!” cried his wife. “inquire of all my friends and neighbors whether any one of them ever saw anything the least unbecoming in my conduct.” The whole party entreated the professor to lay such thoughts aside, for there was not a better lady breathing, or one who set a higher value upon her reputation. “But how can that be,” said he, “when I saw him enter the house, and he is in it now?” in the meanwhile the lady’s two brothers arrived, when she began to weep bitterly, exclaiming, “O my dear brothers, my poor husband has gone mad, quite mad — and he even says there is a man in the house. I believe he would kill me if he could; but you know me too well to listen for a moment to such a story,” and she continued to weep.
The brothers then accosted the professor in no gentle terms: “We are surprised, signor — we are shocked to find that you dare bestow such epithets on our sister. What can have led you, after living so amicably together, to bring these charges against her now?” “I can only tell you,” answered the professor, “that there is a man in the house. I saw him enter.” “Then come, and let us find him. Show him to us,” retorted the incensed brothers, “for we will sift this matter to the bottom. Show us the man, and we will then punish her in such a way as will satisfy you.” One of the brothers, taking his sister aside, said, “First tell me, have you really got any one hidden in the house? Tell the truth.” “Heavens!” cried his sister, “I tell you, I would rather suffer death. Should I be the first to bring a scandal on our house? I wonder you are not ashamed to mention such a thing.” Rejoiced to hear this, the brothers, directed by the professor, at once commenced a search. Half frantic, he led them at once to the great bundle of linen, which he pierced through and through with his sword, firmly believing that he was killing Bucciolo, all the while taunting him at every blow. “There! I told you,” cried his wife, “that he was mad. To think of destroying your own property thus! It is plain he did not help to get them up,” she continued, whimpering —“all my best clothes!”
Having now sought everywhere in vain, one of the brothers observed, “He is indeed mad,” to which the other agreed, while he again attacked the professor in the bitterest terms: “You have carried matters too far, signor; your conduct to our sister is shameful, and nothing but insanity can excuse it.” Vexed enough before, the professor upon this flew into a violent passion, and brandished his naked sword in such a way that the others were obliged to use their sticks, which they did so very effectively that, after breaking them over his head, they chained him down like a maniac upon the floor, declaring he had lost his wits by excessive study, and taking possession of his house, they remained with their sister all night. next morning they sent for a physician, who ordered a couch to be placed as near as possible to the fire, that no one should be allowed to speak or reply to the patient, and that he should be strictly dieted until he recovered his wits; and this regimen was diligently enforced.489
A report immediately spread through Bologna that the good professor had become insane, which caused very general regret, his friends observing to each other, “It is indeed a bad business; but I suspected yesterday how it was — he could scarcely get a word out as he was delivering his lecture, did you not perceive?” “Yes,” said another, “I saw him change colour, poor fellow.” And by everybody, everywhere, it was decided that the professor was mad. In this situation numbers of his scholars went to see him, and among the rest Bucciolo, knowing nothing of what had happened, agreed to accompany them to the college, desirous of acquainting his master with last night’s adventure. What was his surprise to learn that he had actually taken leave of his senses, and being directed on leaving the college to the professor’s house, he was almost panic-struck on approaching the place, beginning to comprehend the whole affair. Yet, in order that no one might be led to suspect the truth, he walked into the house along with the rest, and on reaching a certain apartment which he knew, he beheld his poor tutor almost beaten to a mummy, and chained down upon his bed, close to the fire. His pupils were standing round condoling with him and lamenting his piteous case. At length it came to Bucciolo’s turn to say something to him, which he did as follows: “My dear master, I am truly concerned for you as if you were my own father, and if there is anything in which I can be of service to you, command me as your own son.” To this the poor professor only replied, “No, Bucciolo, depart in peace, my pupil; depart, for you have learned much, very much, at my expense.” Here his wife interrupted him: “You see how he wanders — heed not what he says — pay no attention to him, signor.” Bucciolo, however, prepared to depart, and taking a hasty leave of the professor, he proceeded to the lodging of his friend Pietro Paolo, and said to him, “Fare you well. god bless you, my friend. I must away; and I have lately learned so much at other people’s expense that I am going home.” So saying, he hurried away, and in due course arrived in safety in Rome.
The affliction of the professor of Giovanni’s sprightly tale will probably be considered by most readers as well-merited punishment; the young gallant proved an apt scholar in the art of love, and here was the inciter to evil repaid with the same coin!
Straparola also tells the story, but in a different form, in his “Pleasant Nights” (Piacevoli Notti), First Day, second novella; and his version is taken into a small collection entitled “Tarlton’s Newes out of Purgatorie,” first published in or before 1590 — a catchpenny tract in which, of course, Dick Tarlton had never a hand, any more than he had in the collection of jests which goes under his name.
In Pisa, a famous city of Italye, there lived a gentleman of good lineage and landes, feared as well for his wealth, as honoured for his vertue, but indeed well thought on for both; yet the better for his riches. This gentleman had one onelye daughter, called Margaret, who for her beauty was liked of all, and desired of many. But neither might their sutes nor her owne prevaile about her father’s resolution, who was determyned not to marrye her, but to such a man as should be able in abundance to maintain the excellency of her beauty. Divers young gentlemen proffered large feoffments, but in vaine, a maide shee must bee still: till at last an olde doctor in the towne, that professed phisicke, became a sutor to her, who was a welcome man to her father, in that he was one of the wealthiest men in all Pisa; a tall stripling he was and a proper youth, his age about foure score, his heade as white as milke, wherein for offence sake there was left never a tooth. But it is no matter, what he wanted in person he had in the purse, which the poore gentlewoman little regarded, wishing rather to tie herself to one that might fit her content, though they lived meanly, then to him with all the wealth in Italye. But shee was yong, and forcst to follow her father’s direction, who, upon large covenants, was content his daughter should marry with the doctor, and whether she likte him or no, the match was made up, and in short time she was married. The poore wench was bound to the stake, and had not onely an olde impotent man, but one that was so jealous, as none might enter into his house without suspition, nor shee doo any thing without blame; the least glance, the smallest countenance, any smile was a manifest instance to him that she thought of others better than himselfe. Thus he himselfe lived in a hell, and tormented his wife in as ill perplexitie.
At last it chaunced that a young gentleman of the citie, coming by her house, and seeing her looke out at her window, noting her rare and excellent proportion, fell in love with her, and that so extreamelye, as his passions had no meanes till her favour might mittigate his heart sicke discontent. The yong man that was ignorant in amorous matters, and had never beene used to courte anye gentlewoman, thought to reveale his passions to some one freend that might given him counsaile for the winning of her love, and thinking experience was the surest maister, on a daye seeing the olde doctor walkinge in the churche that was Margaret’s husband, little knowing who he was, he thought this the fittest man to whom he might discover his passions, for that hee was olde and knew much, and was a phisition that with his drugges might helpe him forward in his purposes, so that seeing the olde man walke solitary, he joinde unto him, and after a curteous salute, tolde him that he was to impart a matter of great import to him, wherein, if hee would not onely be secrete, but indevour to pleasure him, his pains should bee every way to the full considered. You must imagine, gentleman, quoth Mutio, for so was the doctor’s name, that men of our profession are no blabs, but hold their secrets in their hearts bottome, and therefore reveale what you please, it shall not onely be concealed, but cured, if either my art or counsaile may doo it. Upon this, Lyonell, so was the young gentleman called, told and discourst unto him from point to point, how he was falne in love with a gentlewoman that was married to one of his profession, discovered her dwelling and the house, for that he was unacquainted with the woman, and a man little experienced in love matters, he required his favour to further him with his advice. Mutio at this motion was stung to the hart, knowing it was his wife hee was fallen in love withall, yet to conceale the matter, and to experience his wive’s chastity, and that if she plaide false, he might be revenged on them both, he dissembled the matter, and answered that he knewe the woman very well, and commended her highly: but said she had a churle to her husband, and therefore he thought shee would bee the more tractable: Trye her, man, quoth hee, fainte harte never wonne faire lady, and if shee will not be brought to the bent of your bowe, I will provide such a potion as shall dispatch all to your owne content: and to give you further instructions for oportunitie, knowe that her husband is foorth every after-noone from three till sixe. Thus farre I have advised you, because I pitty your passions, as my selfe being once a lover, but now I charge thee reveale it to none whomsoever, least it doo disparage my credit to meddle in amorous matters.
The yong gentleman not onely promised all carefull secrecy, but gave him harty thanks for his good counsell, promising to meete him there the next day, and tell him what newes. Then hee left the old man, who was almost mad for feare his wife any way should play false; he saw by experience brave men came to besiege the castle, and seeing it was in woman’s custodie, and had so weeke a governor as himselfe, he doubted it would in time be delivered up: which feare made him almost franticke, yet he drivde of the time great torment, till he might heare from his rival. Lionello he hastes him home and sutes him in his braverye, and goes downe toward the house of Mutio, where he sees her at the windowe whome he courted with a passionate looke, with such humble salute and shee might perceive how the gentleman was affectionate. Margaretta, looking earnestlye upon him, and noting the perfection of his proportion, accounted him in her eye the flower of all Pisa, thinkte herselfe fortunate if shee might have him for her freend, to supply the defaultes that she found in Mutio. Sundry times that afternoone he past by her window, and he cast not up more loving lookes, than he received gratious favours, which did so incourage him that the next daye betweene three and sixe hee went to her house, and knocking at the doore, desired to speake with the mistris of the house, who hearing by her maid’s description what he was, commaunded him to come in, where she intertained him with all courtesie.
The youth that never before had given the attempt to court a ladye, began his exordium with a blushe; and yet went forward so well, that hee discourst unto her howe hee loved her, and that if it might please her to accept of his service, as of a freende ever vowde in all dutye to bee at her commaunde, the care of her honour should bee deerer to him than his life, and hee would be ready to prise her discontent with his bloud at all times. The gentlewoman was a little coye, but, before they part, they concluded that the next daye at foure of the clock hee should come thither and eate a pound of cherries, which was resolved on with a succado des labras, and so with a loath to depart they tooke their leaves. Lionello as joyfull a man as might be, hyed him to the church to meete his olde doctor, where he found him in his olde walke: What newes, syr, quoth Mutio, how have you sped? Even as I can wishe, quoth Lionello, for I have been with my mistrisse, and have found her so tractable, that I hope to make the olde peasant, her husband, looke broadheaded by a paire of browantlers. How deepe this strooke into Mutio’s hart, let them imagine that can conjecture what jealousie is; insomuch that the olde doctor askte when should be the time. marry, quoth Lionello, at foure of the clocke in the afternoone, and then Maister Doctor, quoth hee, will I dub the old squire knight of the forked order.
Thus they past on in that, till it grew late, and then Lyonello went home to his lodging and Mutio to his house, covering all his sorrows with a merrye countenance, with full resolution to revenge them both the next daye with extremitie. He past the night as patiently as he could, and the next daye, after dinner, awaye hee went, watching when it should bee foure of the clocke. At the hour justly came Lyonello and was intertained with all curtesie; but scarce had they kist, ere the maid cryed out to her mistresse that her maister was at the doore; for he hasted, knowing that a horne was but a litle while in grafting. Margaret, at this alarum, was amazed, and yet for a shift chopt Lionello into a great driefatte491 full of feathers,492 and sat her downe close to her woorke. By that came Mutio in blowing, and as though hee came to looke somewhat in haste, called for the keyes of his chamber, and looked in everye place, searching so narrowlye in everye corner of the house, that he left not the very privie unsearcht. Seeing he could not finde him, hee said nothing, but fayning himselfe not well at ease, staide at home, so that poor Lionello was faine to staye in the drifatte till the old churle was in bed with his wife; and then the maide let him out at a backe doore, who went home with a flea in his eare to his lodging.
Well, the next day he went againe to meete his doctor, whome he founde in his wonted walke. What newes? Quoth Mutio, how have you sped? A poxe of the olde slave, quoth Lyonello; I was no sooner in and had given my mistresse one kisse, but the jelous asse was at the doore; the maide spied him, and cryed her maister; so that the poore gentlewoman, for very shifte, was faine to put me in a driefatte of feathers that stoode in an olde chamber, and there I was faine to tarry while493 he was in bed and a-sleepe, and then the maide let me out, and I departed. But it is no matter; ’twas but a chaunce, and I hope to crye quittance with him ere it be long. As how? Quoth Mutio. Marry, thus, quoth Lionello: shee sent me woord by her maide this daye that upon Thursday next the olde churle suppeth with a patient of his a mile out of Pisa, and then I feare not but to quitte494 him for all. It is well, quoth Mutio; fortune bee your frende. I thanke you, quoth Lionello: and so, after a little more prattle, they departed.
To bee shorte, Thursdaye came, and about sixe of the clocke, foorth goes Mutio no further than a freendes house of his, from whence he might descrye who went into his house; straight hee saw Lionello enter in, and after goes hee, insomuche that hee was scarcelye sitten downe, before the mayde cryed out againe, my maister comes. The goodwife, that before had provided for after-claps,495 had found out a privie place between two seelings of a plauncher,496 and there she thrust Lionello, and her husband came sweting. What news, quoth shee, drives you home againe so soone, husband? Marry, sweete wife, quoth he, a fearfull dream that I had this night, which came to my remembrance, and that was this: me thought there was a villaine that came secretlye into my house, with a naked poinard in his hand, and hid himselfe, but I could not finde the place; with that mine nose bled, and I came back; and, by the grace of God, I will seeke every corner in the house for the quiet of my minde. Marry, I pray you doo, husband, quoth she. With that he lockt in all the doors, and began to search every chamber, every hole, every chest, every tub, the very well; he stabd every feather bed through, and made havocke like a mad man, which made him thinke all was in vaine; and hee began to blame his eies that thought they saw that which they did not. Upon this he rest halfe lunaticke, and all night he was very wakefull, that towards the morning he fell into a dead sleepe, and then was Lionello conveighed away.
In the morning when Mutio wakened, hee thought how by no meanes hee should be able to take Lionello tardy: yet he laid in his head a most dangerous plot; and that was this: Wife, quoth he, I must the next Monday ride to Vycensa, to visit an olde patient of mine; till my returne, which will be some ten dayes, I will have thee staye at our little graunge house in the countrey. Marry, very well content, quoth she. With that he kist her, and was verye pleasant, as though he had suspected nothing, and away hee flings to the church, where he meetes Lionello. What, sir, quoth he, what news? is your mistresse yours in possession? No, a plague of the olde slave, quoth hee. I think he is either a witch or els woorkes by magick; for I can no sooner enter into the doores, but he is at my backe, and so he was againe yesternight; for I was not warm in my seate before the maide cryed, my maister comes; and then was the poore soule faine to conveigh me betweene two seelings of a chamber, in a fit place for the purpose, wher I laught hartely to myself too see how he sought every corner, ransakt every tub, and stabd every feather bed, but in vaine; I was safe enough until the morning, and then, when he was fast asleepe, I lept out. Fortune frownes on you, quoth Mutio. I,497 but I hope, quoth Lionello, this is the last time, and now shee will begin to smile; for on Monday next he rides to Vicensa, and his wife lyes at the grange house a little (out) of the towne, and there in his absence I will revenge all forepast misfortunes. God sent it be so, quoth Mutio; and so took his leave.
These two lovers longd for Monday, and at last it came. Early in the morning Mutio horst himselfe and his wife, his maide and a man, and no more, and away he rides to his grange house, wher, after he had brok his fast, he took his leave, and away towards Vincensa. He rode not far ere, by a false way, he returned into a thicket, and there, with a company of cuntry peasants, lay in an ambuscade to take the young gentleman. In the afternoon comes Lionello galloping, and as soon as he came within sight of the house, he sent back his horse by his boy, and went easily afoot, and there, at the very entry, was entertained by Margaret, who led him up the staires, and convaid him into her bedchamber, saying he was welcome into so mean a cottage. But, quoth she, now I hope fortun shall not envy the purity of our loves. Alas! alas! mistris, cried the maid, heer is my maister, and 100 men with him, with bils and staves. We are betraid, quoth Lionel, and I am but a dead man. Feare not, quoth she, but follow me: and straight she carried him downe into a low parlor, where stoode an olde rotten chest full of writinges; she put him into that, and covered him with olde papers and evidences, and went to the gate to meet her husband.
Why, Signor Mutio, what meanes this hurly burly? quoth she. Vile and shameless strumpet as thou art, thou shalt know by and by, quoth he. Where is thy love? All we have watcht him and seen him enter in. Now, quoth he, shall neither thy tub of feathers or thy seeling serve, for perish he shall with fire, or els fall into my handes. Doo thy worst, jealous foole, quoth she, I ask thee no favour. With that, in a rage, he beset the house round, and then set fire on it. Oh, in what perplexitie was poore Lionello in that he was shut in a chest, and the fire about his eares! and how was Margaret passionat, that knew her lover was in such danger! Yet she made light of the matter, and, as one in a rage, called her maid to her and said: Come on, wench, seeing thy maister, mad with jealousie, hath set the house and al my living on fire, I will be revenged on him: help me heer to lift this old chest where all his writings and deeds are; let that burne first, and as soon as I see that on fire I will walke towards my freends, for the olde foole will be beggard, and I will refuse him. Mutio, that knew al his obligations and statutes lay there, puld her back and had two of his men carry the chest into the field, and see it were safe, himselfe standing by and seeing his house burned downe sticke and stone. Then, quieted in his mind, he went home with his wife and began to flatter her, thinking assuredly that he had burnt her paramour, causing his chest to be carried in a cart to his house in Pisa. Margaret, impatient, went to her mother’s and complained to her and her brethren of the jealousie of her husband, who maintaned her it to be true, and desired but a daies respite to proove it.
Wel, hee was bidden to supper the next night at her mother’s, she thinking to make her daughter and him freends againe. In the meane time he to his woonted walk in the church, and there, preter expectationem, he found Lionello walking. Wondring at this, he straight enquires what newes. What newes, Maister Doctor, quoth he, and he fell in a great laughing; in faith yesterday, I scapt a scouring, for syrrha, I went to the grange-house, where I was appointed to come, and I was no sooner gotten up to the chamber, but the magicall villeine, her husband, beset the house with bils and staves, and that he might be sure no seeling nor corner should shrowde me, he set the house on fire, and so burnt it downe to the ground. Why, quoth Mutio, and how did you escape? Alas, quoth he, wel fare a woman’s wit; she conveighed me into an old chest full of writings, which she knew her husband durst not burne, and so I was saved and brought to Pisa, and yesternight, by her maide, let home to my lodging. This, quoth he, is the pleasantest jest that ever I heard; and upon this I have a sute to you: I am this night bidden foorth to supper, you shall be my guest, onely I will crave so much favour, as after supper for a pleasant sporte, to make relation what successe you have had in your loves. For that I will not sticke, quoth he, and so he conveyed Lionello to his mother-in-law’s house with him, and discovered to his wive’s brethren who he was, and how at supper he would disclose the whole matter; For, quoth he, he knowes not that I am Margaret’s husband. At this all the brethren bad him welcome, and so did the mother to, and Margaret, she was kept out of sight. Supper time being come they fell to their victals, and Lionello was carrowst unto by Mutio, who was very pleasant, to drawe him into a merry humour, that he might to the ful discourse the effect and fortunes of his love. Supper being ended, Mutio requested him to tel to the gentlemen what had hapned between him and his mistresse. Lionello, with a smiling countenance, began to describe his mistresse, the house and street where she dwelt, how he fell in love with her, and how he used the councell of this doctor, who in all his affaires was his secretarye. Margaret heard all this with a great feare, and when he came to the last point, she caused a cup of wine to be given him by one of her sisters, wherein was a ring that he had given Margaret. As he had told how he had escapt burning, and was ready to confirme all for a troth, the gentlewoman drunke to him, who taking the cup and seeing the ring, having a quick wit and a reaching head, spide the fetch, and perceived that all this while this was his lover’s husband to whome hee had revealed these escapes; at this drinking the wine and swallowing the ring into his mouth he went forward. Gentlemen, quoth he, how like you of my loves and my fortunes? Wel, quoth the gentlemen; I pray you is it true? As true, quoth he, as if I would be so simple as to reveal what I did to Margaret’s husband; for, know you, gentlemen, that I knew this Mutio to be her husband whom I notified to be my lover; and for that he was generally known throughout Pisa to be a jealous fool, therefore, with these tales I brought him into paradice, which are follies of mine owne braine; for, trust me, by the faith of a gentleman, I never spake to the woman, was never in her companye, neyther doo I know her if I see her. At this they all fell in a laughing at Mutio, who was ashamde that Lionello had so scoft him. But all was well; they were made friends, but the jest went so to his hart that he shortly after died, and Lionello enjoyed the ladye.
Ser Giovanni’s story, Roscoe observes, is “curious as having through the medium of translation suggested the idea of those amusing scenes in which the renowned Falstaff acquaints Master Ford, disguised under the name of Brooke, with his progress in the good graces of Mrs. Ford. The contrivances likewise by which he eludes the vengeance of the jealous husband are similar to those recounted in the novel, with the addition of throwing the unweildy knight into the river. Dunlop says that the same story has been translated is a collection entitled ‘The Fortunate, Deceived, and Unfortunate Lovers,’ and that Shakspeare may probably also have seen it in ‘Tarlton’s Newes out of Purgatorie,’ where the incidents related in the Lovers of Pisa are given according to Straparola’s story. Moliere made a happy use of it in his ‘Ecole des Femmes,’ where the humour of the piece turns upon a young gentleman confiding his progress in the affections of a lady to the ear of her guardian, who believed he was on the point of espousing her himself.” Two other French plays were based upon the story, one of which was written by La Fontaine under the title of “La Maitre en Droit.” Readers of “Gil Blas” will also recollect how Don Raphael confides to Balthazar the progress of his amour with his wife, and expresses his vexation at the husband’s unexpected return.
It is much to be regretted that nothing is known as to the date and place of the composition of the Breslau edition of The Nights, which alone contains this and several other tales found in the collections of the early Italian novelists.
489 Such was formerly the barbarous manner of treating the insane.
490 From “Tarlton’s Newes out of Purgatorie.”
491 A basket
492 In the fabliau “De la Dame qui atrappa un PrLtre, un PrLvôt, et un Forestier” (or Constant du Hamel), the lady, on the pretext that her husband is at the door, stuffs her lovers, as they arrive successively, unknown to each other, into a large tub full of feathers and afterwards exposes them to public ridicule.
493 Until
494 Requite
495 Accidents
496 A boarding
497 The letter I is very commonly substituted for “ay” in 16th century English books.
Although we may find, as already stated, the direct source of this tale in the forty-sixth chapter of Al-Mas’údi’s “Meadows of Gold and Mines of Gems,” which was written about A.D. 943, yet there exists a much older version — if not the original form — in a Sanskrit collection entitled, “Vetálapanchavinsatí,” or Twenty-five Tales of a Vampyre. This ancient work is incorporated with the “Kathá Sarit Ságara,” or Ocean of the Streams of Story, composed in Sanskrit verse by Somadeva in the 11th century, after a similar work, now apparently lost, entitled “Vrihat Kathá,” or Great Story, written by Gunadhya, in the 6th century.498 In the opinion of Benfey all the Vampyre Tales are of Buddhist extraction (some are unquestionably so), and they probably date from before our era. As a separate work they exist, more or less modified, in many of the Indian vernaculars; in Hindí, under the title of “Baital Pachísí”; in Tamil, “Vedala Kadai”; and there are also versions in Telegu, Mahratta, and Canarese. The following is from Professor C. H. Tawney’s complete translation of the “Kathá Sarit Ságara” (it is the 8th recital of the Vetala):
There is a great tract of land assigned to Bráhmans in the country of Anga, called Vrikshaghata. In it there lived a rich sacrificing Bráhman named Vishnusvámin. And he had a wife equal to himself in birth. And by her he had three sons born to him, who were distinguished for preternatural acuteness. In course of time they grew up to be young men. One day, when he had begun a sacrifice, he sent those three brothers to the sea to fetch a turtle. So off they went, and when they had found a turtle, the eldest said to his two brothers, “Let one of you take the turtle for our father’s sacrifice; I cannot take it, as it is all slippery with slime.” When the eldest said this, the two younger ones answered him, “If you hesitate about taking it, why should not we?” When the eldest heard that, he said, “You two must take the turtle; if you do not, you will have obstructed your father’s sacrifice, and then you will certainly sink down to hell.” When he told the younger brother’s this, they laughed and said to him, “If you see our duty so clearly, why do you not see that your own is the same?” Then the eldest said, “What, do you not know how fastidious I am? I am very fastidious about eating, and I cannot be expected to touch what is repulsive.” The middle brother, when he heard this speech of his, said to his brother, “Then I am a more fastidious person than you, for I am a most fastidious connoisseur of the fair sex.” When the middle one said this, the eldest went on to say, “Then let the younger of you two take the turtle.” Then the youngest brother frowned, and in his turn said to the two elder, “You fools, I am very fastidious about beds; so I am the most fastidious of the lot.”
So the three brothers fell to quarrelling with one another, and being completely under the dominion of conceit, they left that turtle and went off immediately to the court of the king of that country, whose name was Prasenajit, and who lived in a city named Vitankapura, in order to have the dispute decided. There they had themselves announced by the warder, and went in, and gave the king a circumstantial account of their case. The king said, “Wait here, and I will put you all in turn to the proof;’ so they agreed and remained there. And at the time that the king took his meal, he had them conducted to a seat of honour, and given delicious food fit for a king, possessing all the six flavours. And while all were feasting around him, the Bráhman who was fastidious about eating along of the company did not eat, but sat there with his face puckered up with disgust. The king himself asked the Bráhman why he did not eat his food, though it was sweet and fragrant, and he slowly answered him, “I perceive in this food an evil smell of the reek from corpses, so I cannot bring myself to eat it, however delicious it may be.” When he said this before the assembled multitude, they all smelled it by the king’s orders, and said, “This food is prepared from white rice and is good and fragrant.” But the Bráhman who was so fastidious about eating would not touch it, but stopped his nose. Then the king reflected, and proceeded to inquire into the matter, and found out from his officers that the food had been made from rice which had been grown in a field near the burning ghát of a certain village. Then the king was much astonished, and, being pleased, he said to him, “In truth you are very particular as to what you eat; so eat of some other dish.”
And after they had finished their dinner, the king dismissed the Bráhmans to their apartments and sent for the loveliest lady of his court. And in the evening he sent that fair one, all whose limbs were of faultless beauty, splendidly adorned, to the second Bráhman, who was so squeamish about the fair sex. And that matchless kindler of Cupid’s flame, with a face like the full moon of midnight, went, escorted by the king’s servants, to the chamber of the Bráhman. But when she entered, lighting up the chamber with her brightness, that gentleman who was so fastidious about the fair sex felt quite faint, and stopping his nose with his left hand, said to the king’s servants, “Take her away; if you do not, I am a dead man: a smell comes from her like that of a goat.” When the king’s servants heard this, they took the bewildered fair one to their sovereign, and told him what had taken place. And the eking immediately had the squeamish gentleman sent for, and said to him, “How can this lovely woman, who has perfumed herself with sandal-wood, camphor, black aloes, and other splendid scents, so that she diffuses exquisite fragrance through the world, smell like a goat?” But though the king used this argument to the squeamish gentleman he stuck to his point; and then the king began to have his doubts on the subject, and at last, by artfully framed questions, he elicited from the lady herself that, having been separated in her childhood from her mother and nurse, she had been brought up on goat’s milk.
Then the king was much astonished, and praised highly the discernment of the man who was fastidious about the fair sex, and immediately had given to the third Bráhman, who was fastidious about beds, in accordance with his taste, a bed composed of seven mattresses placed upon a bedstead. White smooth sheets and coverlets were laid upon the bed, and the fastidious man slept upon it in a splendid room. But, before half a watch of the night had passed, he rose up from that bed, with his hand pressed to his side, screaming in an agony of pain. And the king’s officers, who were there, saw a red crooked mark on his side, as if a hair had been pressed deep into it. And they went and told the king, and the king said to them, “Look and see if there is not something under the mattress.” So they went and examined the bottom of the mattresses one by one, and they found a hair in the middle of the bedstead underneath them all. And they took it and showed it to the king, and they also brought the man who was fastidious about beds, and when the king saw the state of his body, he was astonished. And he spent the whole night in wondering how a hair could make so deep an impression on his skin through seven mattresses.499
And the next morning the king gave three hundred thousand gold pieces to those fastidious men, because they were persons of wonderful discernment and refinement. And they remained in great comfort in the king’s court, forgetting all about the turtle, and little did they reck of the fact that they had incurred sin by obstructing their father’s sacrifice.500
The story of the brothers who were so very “knowing” is common to most countries, with occasional local modifications. It is not often we find the knowledge of the “quintessence of things” concentrated in a single individual, as in the case of the ex-king of our tale, but we have his exact counterpart — and the circumstance is significant — in No. 2 of the “Cento Novelle Antiche,” the first Italian collection of short stories, made in the 13th century, where a prisoner informs the king of Greece that a certain horse has been suckled by a she-ass, that a jewel contains a flaw, and that the king himself is a baker. Mr. Tawney, in a note on the Vetála story, as above, refers also to the decisions of Hamlet in Saxo Grammaticus, 1839, p. 138, in Simrock’s “Quellen des Shakespeare,” I, 81-85; 5, 170; he lays down that some bread tastes of blood (the corn was grown on a battlefield); that some liquor tastes of iron (the malt was mixed with water taken from a well in which some rusty swords had lain); that some bacon tastes of corpses (the pig had eaten a corpse); lastly, that the king is a servant and his wife a serving-maid. But in most versions of the story three brothers are the gifted heroes.
In “Mélusine”501 for 5 Nov. 1885, M. René Basset cites an interesting variant (in which, as is often the case, the “Lost Camel” plays a part, but are not concerned about it at present) from Radloff’s “Proben der Volksliteratur der turkischen Stamme des Sud-Siberiens,” as follows:
Meat and bread were set before the three brothers, and the prince went out. The eldest said, “The prince is a slave;” the second, “This is dog’s flesh;” the youngest, “This bread has grown over the legs of a dead body.” The prince heard them. He took a knife and ran to find his mother. “Tell me the truth,” cried he —“were you unfaithful to my father during his absence? A man who is here has called me a slave.” “My son,” replied she, “If I don’t tell the truth, I shall die; if I tell it, I shall die. When thy father was absent, I gave myself up to a slave.” The prince left his mother and ran to the house of the shepherd: “The meat which you have cooked to-day — what is it? Tell the truth, otherwise I’ll cut your head off.” “Master, if I tell it, I shall die; if I don’t I shall die. I will be truthful. It was a lamb whose mother had no milk; on the day of its birth, it was suckled by a bitch: that is to-day’s ewe.” The prince left the shepherd and ran to the house of the husbandman: “Tell the truth, or else I’ll cut off your head. Three young men have come to my house, I have placed bread before them, and they say that the grain has grown over the limbs of a dead man.” “I will be frank with you. I ploughed with my plough in a place where were (buried) the limbs of a man; without knowing it, I sowed some wheat, which grew up.” the prince quitted his slave and returned to his house, where were seated the strangers. He said to the first, “Young man, how do you know that I am a slave?” “Because you went out as soon as the repast was brought in.” He asked the second, “How do you know that the meat which was served was that of a dog?” “Because it has a disagreeable taste like the flesh of a dog.” Then to the third: “How come you to know that this bread was grown over the limbs of a dead person?” “What shall I say? It smells of the limbs of a dead body; that is why I recognised it. If you do not believe me, ask your slave; he will tell you that what I say is true.”
In the same paper (col. 516) M. René Basset cites a somewhat elaborate variant, from Stier’s “Ungarische Sagen und Märchen,” in which, once more, the knowledge of the “quintessence of things” is concentrated in a single individual.
A clever Magyar is introduced with his companions in disguise into the camp of the king of the Tátárs, who is menacing his country. The prince, suspicious, causes him to be carefully watched by his mother, a skilful sorceress. They brought in the evening’s repast. “What good wine the prince has!” said she. “Yes,” replied one, “but it contains human blood.” The sorceress took not of the bed from whence these words proceeded, and when all were asleep she deftly cut a lock of hair from him who had spoken, crept stealthily out of the room, and brought this mark to her son. the strangers started up, and when our hero discovered what had been done to him, he cut a lock from all, to render his decision impossible. When they came to dinner, the king knew not from whom the lock had been taken. The following night the mother of the prince again slipped into the room, and said, “What good bread has the prince of the Tátárs!” “Very good,” replied one, “it is made with the milk of a woman.” When all were asleep, she cut a little off the moustache of him who was lying in the bed from which the voice proceeded. This time the Magyars were still more on the alert, and when they were apprised of the matter, they all cut a little from their moustaches, so that next morning the prince found himself again foiled. The third night the old lady hid herself, and said in a loud voice, “What a handsome man is the prince of the Tátárs!” “Yes,” said one, “but he is a bastard.” When all were asleep, the old lady made a mark on the visor of the helmet of the one from whence had come the words, and then acquainted her son of what she had done. In the morning the prince perceived that all the helmets were similarly marked.502 At length he refrained, and said, “I see that there is among you a master greater than myself; that is why I desire very earnestly to know him. He may make himself known; I should like to see and know this extraordinary man, who is more clever and powerful than myself.” The young man started up from his seat and said, “I have not wished to be stronger or wiser than yourself. I have only wished to find out what you had preconcerted for us. I am the person who has been marked three nights.” “It is well, young man. But prove now your words: How is there human blood in the wine?” “Call your butler and he will tell you.” The butler came in trembling all over, and confessed that when he corked the wine he had cut his finger with the knife, and a drop of blood had fallen into the cask. “But how is there woman’s milk in the bread?” asked the king. “Call the bakeress,” he replied, “and she will tell it you.” When they questioned her, she confessed that she was kneading the bread and at the same time suckling her baby, and that on pressing it to her breast some milk flowed and was mixed with the bread. The sorceress, the mother of the king, when they came to the third revelation of the young man, confessed in her turn that the king was illegitimate.
Mr. Tawney refers to the Chevalier de Mailly’s version of the Three Princes of Serendip (Ceylon): The three are sitting at table, and eating a leg of lamb, sent with some splendid wine from the table of the emperor Bahrám. The eldest maintains that the wine was made of grapes that grew in a cemetery; the second, that the lamb was brought up on dog’s milk; while the third asserts that the emperor had put to death the son of the wazír. And that the latter is bent on vengeance. All these statements turn out to be well-grounded. Mr. Tawney also refers to parallel stories in the Breslau edition of The Nights; namely, in Night 458, it is similarly conjectured that the bread was baked by a sick woman; that the kid was suckled by a bitch, and that the sultan is illegitimate; and in Night 459, a gem-cutter guesses that a jewel has an internal flaw, a man skilled in the pedigrees of horses divines that a horse is the offspring of a female buffalo, and a man skilled in human pedigrees that the mother of the favourite queen was a rope-dancer. Similar incidents occur in “The Sultan of Yemen and his Three Sons,” one of the Additional Tales translated by Scott, from the Wortley-Montague MS., now in the Bodleian Library, and comprised in vol. vi. of his edition of “The Arabian Nights Entertainments,” published at London in 1811.
An analogous tale occurs in Mr. E. J. W. Gibb’s recently-published translation of the “History of the Forty Vezirs (the Lady’s Fourth Story, p. 69 ff.), the motif of which is that “all things return to their origin:”
There was in the palace of the world a king who was very desirous of seeing Khizr503 (peace on him!), and he would even say, “If there be any one who will show me Khizr, I will give him whatsoever he may wish.” Now there was at that time a man poor of estate, and from the stress of his poverty he said to himself, “Let me go and speak to the king, that if he provide for me during three years, either I will be dead, or the king will be dead, or he will forgive me my fault, or I shall on somewise win to escape, and in this way shall I make merry for a time.” so he went to the king and spake these words to him.504 the king said, “An thou show him not, then I will kill thee,” and that poor man consented. Then the king let give him much wealth and money, and the poor man took that wealth and money and went to his house. Three years he spent in merriment and delight, and he rested at ease till the term was accomplished. At the end of that time he fled and hid himself in a trackless place and he began to quake for fear. Of a sudden he saw a personage with white raiment and shining face, who saluted him. The poor man returned the salutation, and the radiant being asked, “Why art thou thus sad?” but he gave no answer. Again the radiant being asked him and sware to him, saying, “Do indeed tell to me thy plight, that I may find thee some remedy.” So that hapless one narrated his story from its beginning to its end, and the radiant being said, “Come, I will go with thee to the king, and I will answer for thee.” So they arose.
Now the king wanted that hapless one, and while they were going some of the king’s officers who were seeking met them, and they straightway seized the poor man and brought him to the king. Quoth the king, “Lo, the three years are accomplished; come now, and show me Khizr.” The poor man said, “My king, grace and bounty are the work of kings — forgive my sin.” Quoth the king, “I made a pact; till I have killed thee, I shall not have fulfilled it.” And he looked to his chief vezír and said, “How should this be done?” quoth the vezír, “This man should be hewn in many pieces and then hung up on butchers’ hooks, that others may see and lie not before the king.” Said that radiant being, “True spake the vezír; — all things return to their origin.” Then the king looked to the second vezír and said, “What sayest thou?” he replied, “This man should be boiled in a cauldron.” Said that radiant being, “True spake the vezír; — all things return to their origin.” The king looked to the third vezir and said, “What sayest though?” the vezír replied, “This man should be hewn in small pieces and baked in an oven.” Again said that elder, “True spake the vezír; — all things return to their origin.” Then quoth the king to the fourth vezír, “Let us see what sayest thou?” The vezír replied, “O king, the wealth thou gavest this poor creature was for the love of Khizr (peace on him!). he, thinking to find him, accepted it; now that he has not found him he seeks pardon. This were befitting, that thou set free this poor creature for love of Khizr.” Said that elder, “True spake the vezír; — all things return to their origin.” Then the king said to the elder, “O elder, my vezírs have said different things contrary the one to the other, and thou hast said concerning each of them, ‘True spake the vezír; - all things return to their origin.’ What is the reason thereof?” that elder replied, “O king, thy first vezír is a butcher’s son; therefore did he draw to his origin. Thy second vezír is a cook’s son, and he likewise proposed a punishment as became his origin. Thy third vezír is a baker’s son; he likewise proposed a punishment as became his origin. But thy fourth vezír is of gentle birth; compassion therefore becomes his origin, so he had compassion on that hapless one, and sought to do good and counselled liberation. O king, all things return to their origin.”505 And he gave the king much counsel, and at last said, “Lo, I am Khizr,” and vanished.506
The discovery of the king’s illegitimate birth, which occurs in so many versions, has its parallels in the story of the Nephew of Hippocrates in the “Seven Wise Masters,” and the Lady’s 2nd Story in Mr. Gibb’s translation of the ”Forty Vezírs.” The extraordinary sensitiveness of the third young Bráhman, in the Vetála story, whose side was scratched by a hair that was under the seventh of the mattresses on which he lay, Rohde (says Tawney), in his “Greichische Novellistik,” p. 62, compares with a story told by Aelian of the Sybarite Smindyrides, who slept on a bed of rose-leaves and got up in the morning covered with blisters. He also quotes from the Chronicle of Tabari a story of a princess who was made to bleed by a rose-leaf lying in her bed.507
The eleventh recital of the Vetála is about a king’s three sensitive wives: As one of the queens was playfully pulling the hair of the king, a blue lotus leaped from her ear and fell on her lap; immediately a would was produced on the front of her thigh by the blow, and the delicate princess exclaimed, “Oh! oh!” and fainted. At night, the second retired with the king to an apartment on the roof of the palace exposed to the rays of the moon, which fell on the body of the queen, who was sleeping by the king’s side, where it was exposed by her garment blowing aside; immediately she woke up, exclaiming, “Alas! I am burnt,” and rose up from the bed rubbing her limbs. The king woke up in a state of alarm, crying out, “What is the meaning of this?” then he got up and saw that blisters had been produced on the queen’s body. In the meanwhile the king’s third wife heard of it and left her palace to come to him. And when she got into the open air, she heard distinctly, as the night was still, the sound of a pestle pounding in a distant house. The moment the gazelle-eyed one heard it, she said, “Alas! I am killed,” and she sat down on the path, shaking her hands in an agony of pain. Then the girl turned back, and was conducted by her attendants to her own chamber, where she fell on her bed and groaned. And when her weeping attendants examined her, they saw that her hands were covered with bruises, and looked like lotuses upon which black beetles had settled.
To this piteous tale of the three very sensitive queens Tawney appends the following note: Rohde, in his “Greichische Novellistik,” p. 62, compares with this a story told by TimFus, of a Sybarite who saw a husbandman hoeing a field, and contracted rupture from it. Another Sybarite, to whom he told the tale of his sad mishap, got ear-ache from hearing it. Oesterley, in his German translation of the Baitál Pachísí, points out that Grimm, in his “Kindermärchen,” iii. p. 238, quotes a similar incident from the travels of the Three sons of Giaffar: out of four princesses, one faints because a rose-twig is thrown into her face among some roses; a second shuts her eyes in order not to see the statue of a man; a third says, “Go away; the hairs in your fur cloak run into me;” and the fourth covers her face, fearing that some of the fish in a tank may belong to the male sex. He also quotes a striking parallel from the “Elites des contes du Sieur d’Onville:” Four ladies dispute as to which of them is the most delicate. One has been lame for three months owing to a rose-leaf having fallen on her foot; another has had three ribs broken by a sheet in her bed having been crumpled; a third has held her head on one side for six weeks owing to one half of her head having three more hairs on it than the other; a fourth has broken a blood-vessel by a slight movement, and the rupture cannot be healed without breaking the whole limb.[Poor things!]
498 Oesterley mentions a Sanskrit redaction of the Vampyre Tales attributed to Sivadása, and another comprised in the “Kathárnava.”
499 And well might his sapient majesty “wonder”! The humour of this passage is exquisite.
500 In the Tamil version (Babington’s translation of the “Vedála Kadai”) there are but two brothers, one of whom is fastidious in his food, the other in beds: the latter lies on a bed stuffed with flowers, deprived of their stalks. In the morning he complains of pains all over his body, and on examining the bed one hair is found amongst the flowers. In the Hindí version, the king asks him in the morning whether he had slept comfortably. “O great King,” he replied; “I did not sleep all night.” “How so?” quoth he. “O great King, in the seventh fold of the bedding there is a hair, which pricked me in the back, therefore I could not sleep.” The youth who was fastidious about the fair sex had a lovely damsel laid beside him, and he was on the point of kissing her, but on smelling her breath he turned away his face, and went to sleep. Early in the morning the king (who had observed through a lattice what passed) asked him, “Did you pass the night pleasantly?” He replied that he did not, because the smell of a goat proceeded from the girl’s mouth, which made him very uneasy. The king then sent for the procuress and ascertained that the girl had been brought up on goat’s milk.
501 Mélusine: Revue de Mythologie, Littárature Populaire, Traditions, et Usages. Dirigée par H. Gaidoz et E. Rolland. — Paris
502 The trick of the clever Magyar in marking all the other sleepers as the king’s mother had marked herself occurs in the folk-tales of most countries, especially in the numerous versions of the Robbery of the King’s Treasury, which are brought together in my work on the Migrations of Popular Tales and Fictions (Blackwood), vol. ii., pp. 113-165.
503 A mythical saint, or prophet, who, according to the Muslim legend, was despatched by one of the ancient kings of Persia to procure him some of the Water of Life. After a tedious journey, Khizr reached the Fountain of Immortality, but having drank of its waters, it suddenly vanished. Muslims believe that Khizr still lives, and sometimes appears to favoured individuals, always clothed in green, and acts as their guide in difficult enterprises.
504 “Spake these words to the king”— certainly not those immediately preceding! but that, if the king would provide for him during three years, at the end of that period he would show Khizr to the king.
505 Mr. Gibb compares with this the following passage from Boethius, “De Consolatione PhilosophiF,” as translated by Chaucer: “All thynges seken ayen to hir propre course, and all thynges rejoysen on hir retourninge agayne to hir nature.”
506 In this tale, we see, Khizr appears to the distressed in white raiment.
507 In an old English metrical version of the “Seven Sages,” the tutors of the prince, in order to test his progress in general science, secretly place an ivy leaf under each of the four posts of his bed, and when he awakes in the morning —
“Par fay!” he said, “a ferli cas!
Other ich am of wine y-drunk,
Other the firmament is sunk,
Other wexen is the ground,
The thickness of four leaves round!
So much to-night higher I lay,
Certes, than yesterday.”
In the Persian tales of “The Thousand and One Days,” a young prince entered his father’s treasury one day, and saw there a little cedar chest “set with pearls, diamonds, emeralds, and topazes;” on opening it (for the key was in the lock) he beheld the picture of an exceedingly beautiful woman, with whom he immediately fell in love. Ascertaining the name of the lady from an inscription on the back of the portrait, he set off with a companion to discover her, and having been told by an old man at Baghdad that her father at one reigned in Ceylon, he continued his journey thither, encountering many unheard-of adventures by the way. Ultimately he is informed that the lady with whose portrait he had become enamoured was one of the favourites of King Solomon. One should suppose that his would have effectually cured the love-sick prince; but no: he “could never banish her sweet image from his heart.”508
Two instances of falling in love with the picture of a pretty woman occur in the “Kathá Sarít Ságara.” In Book ix., chap. 51, a painter shows King Prithvirúpa the “counterfeit presentment” of the beauteous Princess Rapalatá, and “as the king gazed on it his eye was drowned in that sea of beauty her person, so that he could not draw it out again. For the king, whose longing was excessive, could not be satisfied with devouring her form, which poured forth a stream of the nectar of beauty, as the partridge cannot be satisfied with devouring the moonlight.” In Book xii., chap. 100, a female ascetic shows a wandering prince the portrait of the Princess Mandáravatí, “and Sundarasena when he beheld that maiden, who, though she was present there only in a picture, seemed to be of romantic beauty and like a flowing forth of joy, immediately felt as if he had been pierced with the arrows of the god of the flowery bow [i.e. Káma].” In chapter 35 of Scott’s translation of the “Bahár-i-Dánish,” Prince Ferokh-Faul opens a volume, “which he had scarcely done when the fatal portrait of the fair princess who, the astrologers had foretold, was to occasion him so many perils, presented itself to his view. He instantly fainted, when the slave, alarmed, conveyed intelligence of his condition to the sultan, and related the unhappy cause of the disorder.” In Gomberville’s romances of Polexandre, the African prince, Abd-el-Malik, falls in love with the portrait of Alcidiana, and similar incidents occur in the romance of Agesilaus of Colchos and in the Story of the Seven Wazírs (vol. vi.); but why multiply instances? Nothing is more common in Asiatic fictions.
508 See also the same story in The Nights, vols. vii. and viii., which Mr. Kirby considers as probably a later version. (App. vol. x. of The Nights, p. 442).
In addition to the versions of this amusing story referred to on p. 157 — all of which will be found in the second volume of my work on “Popular Tales and Fictions,” pp. 212-228 — there is yet another in a Persian story-book, of unknown date, entitled, “Shamsa ú Kuhkuha,” written by Mirza Berkhorder Turkman, of which an account, together with specimens, is given in a recently-published little book (Quaritch), “Persian Portraits, a sketch of Persian History, Literature, and Politics,” by Mr. F. F. Arbuthnot, author of “Early Ideas: a Group of Hindoo Stories.”
This version occurs in a tale of three artful wives — or, to employ the story-teller’s own graphic terms, “three whales of the sea of fraud and deceit: three dragons of the nature of thunder and the quickness of lightning; three defamers of honour and reputation; namely, three men-deceiving, lascivious women, each of whom had from the chicanery of her cunning issued the diploma of turmoil to a hundred cities and countries, and in the arts of fraud they accounted Satan as an admiring spectator in the theatre of their stratagems.509 One of them was sitting in the court of justice of the kazi’s embrace; the second was the precious gem of the bazaar-master’s diadem of compliance; and the third was the beazle and ornament of the signet-ring of the life and soul of the superintendent of police. They were constantly entrapping the fawns of the prairie of deceit within the grasp of cunning, and plundered the wares of the caravans of tranquillity of hearts of strangers and acquaintances, by means of the edge of the scimitar of fraud. One day this trefoil of roguery met at the public bath, and, according to their homogeneous nature they intermingled as intimately as the comb with the hair; they tucked up their garment of amity to the waist of union, entered the tank of agreement, seated themselves in the hot-house of love, and poured from the dish of folly, by means of the key of hypocrisy, the water of profusion upon the head of intercourse; they rubbed with the brush of familiarity and the soap of affection the stains of jealousies from each other’s limbs. After a while, when they had brought the pot of concord to boil by the fire of mutual laudation, they warmed the bath of association with the breeze of kindness, and came out. In the dressing-room all three of them happened simultaneously to find a ring, the gem of which surpassed the imagination of the jeweler of destiny, and the like of which he had never beheld in the storehouse of possibility. In short, these worthy ladies contended with each other for possession of the ring, until at length the mother of the bathman came forward and proposed that they should entrust the ring to her in the meanwhile, and it should be the prize of the one who most cleverly deceived and befooled her husband, to which they all agreed, and then departed for their respective domiciles.510
Mr. Arbuthnot’s limits pertained only of abstracts of the tricks played upon their husbands by the three ladies — which the story-teller gives at great length — and that of the kazi’s wife is as follows:
The kazi’s wife knows that a certain carpenter, who lived close to her, was very much in love with her. She sends her maid to him with a message to say that the flame of his love had taken effect upon her heart, and that he must make an underground passage between his house and her dwelling, so that they might communicate with each other freely by means of the mine. The carpenter digs the passage, and the lady pays him a visit, and says to him, “To-morrow I shall come here, and you must bring the kazi to marry me to you.” The next day the kazi goes to his office; the lady goes to the carpenter’s house, and send him to bring her husband, the kazi, to marry them. The carpenter fetches him, and, as the kazi hopes for a good present, he comes willingly enough, but is much surprised at the extreme likeness between the bride and his own wife. The more he looks at her, the more he is in doubt; and at last, offering an excuse to fetch something, he rushes off to his own house, but is forestalled by his souse, who had gone thither by the passage, and on his arrival is lying on her bed. The kazi makes some excuses for his sudden entry into her room, and, after some words, goes back to the carpenter’s house; but his wife had preceded him, and is sitting in her place. Again he begins the ceremony, but is attracted by a black mole on the corner of the bride’s lip, which he could have sworn was the same as that possessed by his wife. Making more excuses, and in spite of the remonstrances of the carpenter, he hurries back to his house once more; but his wife had again got there before him, and he finds her reading a book, and much astonished at his second visit. She suggests that he is mad, and he admits that his conduct is curious, and returns to the carpenter’s house to complete the ceremony. This is again frequently interrupted, but finally he marries his own wife to the carpenter, and, having behaved in such an extraordinary manner throughout, is sent off to a lunatic asylum.
For the tricks of the two other ladies, and for many other equally diverting tales, I refer the reader to Mr. Arbuthnot’s pleasing and instructive little book, which is indeed an admirable epitome of the history and literature of Persia, and one which was greatly wanted in these days, when most men, “like the dogs in Egypt for fear of the crocodiles, must drink of the waters of information as they run, in dread of the old enemy Time.”
I have discussed the question of the genealogy of this tale elsewhere, but, after a somewhat more minute comparative analysis of the several versions, am disposed to modify the opinion which I then entertained. I think we must consider as the direct or indirect source of the versions and variants the “Miles Gloriosus” of Plautus, the plot of which, it is stated in the prologue to the second act, was taken from a Greek play. It is, however, not very clear whether Berni adapted his story from Plautus or the “Seven Wise Masters”; probably from the former, since in both the lady is represented, to the captain and the cuckold, as a twin sister, while in the S. W. M. the crafty knight pretends that she is his leman, come from Hungary with tidings that he may now with safety return home. On the other hand, in the S. W. M., as in Plautus, the lovers make their escape by sea, an incident which Berni has altered to a journey by land — no doubt, in order to introduce further adventures for the development of his main plot. But then we find a point of resemblance between Berni and the S. W. M., in the incident of the cuckold accompanying the lovers part of their way — in the latter to the sea-shore; while in Plautus the deceived captain remains at home to prosecute an amour and get a thrashing for his reward (in Plautus, instead of a wife, it is the captain’s slave-girl). It is curious that amidst all the masquerade of the Arabian story the cuckold’s wife also personates her supposititious twin-sister, as in Plautus and Berni. In Plautus the houses of the lover and the captain adjoin, as is also the case in the modern Italian and Sicilian versions; while in Berni, the S. W. M., the Arabian, and the Persian story cited in this note they are at some distance. With these resemblances and variations it is not easy to say which version was derived from another. Evidently the Arabian story has been deliberately modified by the compiler, and he has, I think, considerably improved upon the original: the ludicrous perplexity of the poor fuller when he awakes, to find himself apparently transformed into a Turkish trooper, recalls the nursery rhyme of the little woman “who went to market her eggs for to sell,” and falling asleep on the king’s highway a pedlar cut off her petticoats up to the knees, and when she awoke and saw her condition she exclaimed, “Lawk-a-mercy me, this is none of I!” and so on. And not less diverting is the pelting the blockhead receives from his brother fullers — altogether, a capital story.
509 So, too, in the “Bahár-i-Dánish” a woman is described as being so able a professor in the school of deceit, that she could have instructed the devil in the science of stratagem: of another it is said that by her wiles she could have drawn the devil’s claws; and of a third the author declares, that the devil himself would own there was no escaping from her cunning!
510 There is a similar tale by the Spanish novelist Isidro de Robles (circa 1660), in which three ladies find a diamond ring in a fountain; each claims it; at length they agree to refer the dispute to a count of their acquaintance who happened to be close by. He takes charge of the ring and says to the ladies, “Whoever in the space of six weeks shall succeed in playing off on her husband the most clever and ingenious trick (always having due regard to his honour) shall possess the ring; in the meantime it shall remain in my hands.” This story was probably brought by the Moors to Spain, whence it may have passed into France, since it is the subject of a faliau, by Haisiau the trouvrP, entitled “Des Trois Dames qui trouverent un Anel,” which is found in Méon’s edition of Barbazan, 1808, tome iii. pp. 220-229, and in Le Grand, ed. 1781, tome iv. pp. 163-165.
The “curious” reader will find European and Asiatic versions of this amusing story in “Originals and Analogues of some of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.” Published for the Chaucer Society, pp. 177-188 and (in a paper contrived by me: “The Enchanted Tree”) p. 341-364.
Under the title of “The Robbers and the Treasure-Trove” I have brought together many European and Asiatic versions of this wide-spread tale in “Chaucer Analogues,” pp. 415-436.
A similar but much shorter story is found in Gladwin’s “Persian Moonshee,” and storybooks in several of the Indian vernaculars which have been rendered into English:
A miser said to a friend, “I have now a thousand rupees, which I will bury out of the city, and I will not tell the secret to any one besides yourself.” They went out of the city together, and buried the money under a tree. Some days after the miser went alone to the tree and found no signs of his money. He said to himself, “Excepting that friend, no other has taken it away, but if I question him he will never confess.” He therefore went to his (the friend’s ) house and said, “A great deal of money is come into my hands, which I want to put in the same place; if you will come to-morrow, we will go together.” The friend, by coveting this large sum, replaced the former money, and the miser next day went there alone and found it. He was delighted with his own contrivance, and never again placed any confidence in friends.
One should suppose a miser the last person to confide the secret of his wealth to any one; but the Italian versions bear a closer resemblance to the Arabian story. From No. 74 of the “Cento Novelle Antiche” Sacchetti, who was born in 1335 and is ranked by Crescimbini as next to Boccaccio, adapted his 198th novella, which is a most pleasing version of the Asiatic story:
A blind man of Orvieto, of the name of Cola, hit upon a device to recover a hundred florins he had been cheated of, which showed he was possessed of all the eyes of Argus, though he had unluckily lost his own. And this he did without wasting a farthing either upon law or arbitration, by sheer dexterity, for he had formerly been a barber, and accustomed to shave very close, having then all his eyes about him, which had been now closed for about thirty years. Alms seemed then the only resource to which he could betake himself, and such was the surprising progress he in a short time made in his new trade that he counted a hundred florins in his purse, which he secretly carried about him until he could find a safer place. His gains far surpassed anything he had realised with his razor and scissors; indeed, they increased so fast that he no longer knew where to bestow them, until one morning happening to remain the last, as he believed, in the church, he thought of depositing his purse of a hundred florins under a loose tile in the floor behind the door, knowing the situation of the place perfectly well. After listening some time without hearing a foot stirring, he very cautiously laid it in the spot; but unluckily there remained a certain Juccio Pezzichernolo, offering his adoration before an image of San Giovanni Boccadoro, who happened to see Cola busily engaged behind the door. He continued his adorations until he saw the blind man depart, when, not in the least suspecting the truth, he approached and searched the place. He soon found the identical tile, and on removing it with the help of his knife, he found the purse, which he very quietly put into his pocket, replacing the tiles just as they were, and, resolving to say nothing about it, he went home.
At the end of three days the blind mendicant, desirous of inspecting his treasure, took a quiet time for visiting the place, and removing the tile searched a long while in great perturbation, but all vain, to find his beloved purse. At last, replacing things just as they were, he was compelled to return in no very enviable state of mind to his dwelling, and there meditating on his loss, the harvest of the toil of so many days, by dint of intense thinking a bright thought struck him (as frequently happens by cogitating in the dark), how he had yet a kind of chance of redeeming his lost spoils. Accordingly in the morning he called his young guide, a lad about nine years old, saying, “My son, lead me to church,” and before setting out he tutored him how he was to behave, seating himself at his side before the entrance, and particularly remarking every person who should enter into the church. “Now, if you happen to see any one who takes particular notice of me, and who either laughs or makes any sign, be sure you observe it and tell me.” The boy promised he would; and they proceeded accordingly and took their station before the church
When the dinner-hour arrived, the father and son prepared to leave the place, the former inquiring by the way whether his son had observed any one looking hard at him as he passed along. “That I did,” answered the lad, “but only one, and he laughed as he went past us. I do not know his name, but he is strongly marked with the small-pox and lives somewhere near the Frati Minori.” “Do you think, my dear lad,” said his father, “that you could take me to his shop, and tell me when you see him there?” “To be sure I could,” said the lad. “Then come, let us lose no time,” replied the father, “and when we are there tell me, and while I speak to him you can step on one side and wait for me.” So the sharp little fellow led him along the way until he reached a cheesemonger’s stall, when he acquainted his father, and brought him close to it. No sooner did the blind man hear him speaking with his customers than he recognised him for the same Juccio with whom he had formerly been acquainted during his days of light. When the coast was a little clear, our blind hero entreated some moments’ conversation, and Juccio, half suspecting the occasion took him on one side into a little room, saying, “Cola, friend, what good news?” “Why,” said Cola, “I am come to consult you, in great hopes you will be of use to me. You know it is a long time since I lost my sight, and being in a destitute condition, I was compelled to earn my subsistence by begging alms. Now, by the grace of God, and with the help of you and of other good people of Orvieto, I have saved a sum of two hundred florins, one hundred of which I have deposited in a safe place, and the other is in the hands of my relations, which I expect to receive with interest in the course of a week. Now if you would consent to receive, and to employ for me to the best advantage, the whole sum of two hundred florins it would be doing me a great kindness, for there is no one besides in all Orvieto in whom I dare to confide; nor do I like to be at the expense of paying a notary for doing business which we can as well transact ourselves. Only I wish you would say nothing about it, but receive the two hundred florins from me to employ as you think best. Say not a word about it, for there would be an end of my calling were it known I had received so large a sum in alms.” Here the blind mendicant stopped; and the sly Juccio, imagining he might thus become master of the entire sum, said he should be very happy to serve him in every way he could and would return an answer the next morning as to the best way of laying out the money. Cola then took his leave, while Juccio, going directly for the purse, deposited it in its old place being in full expectation of soon receiving it again with the addition of the other hundred, as it was clear that Cola had not yet missed the money. The cunning old mendicant on his part expected that he would do no less, and trusting that his plot might have succeeded, he set out the very same day to the church, and had the delight, on removing the tile, to find his purse really there. Seizing upon it with the utmost eagerness, he concealed it under his clothes, and placing the tiles exactly in the same position, he hastened home whistling, troubling himself very little about his appointment of the next day.
The sly thief Juccio set out accordingly the next morning to see his friend Cola, and actually met him on the road. “Whither are you going?” inquired Juccio. “I was going,” said Cola, “to your house.” The former, then taking the blind man aside, said, “I am resolved to do what you ask; and since you are pleased to confide in me, I will tell you of a plan that I have in hand for laying out your money to advantage. If you will put the two hundred florins into my possession, I will make a purchase in cheese and salt meat, a speculation which cannot fail to turn to good account.” “Thank you,” quoth Cola, “I am going to-day for the other hundred, which I mean to bring, and when you have got them both, you can do with them what you think proper.” Juccio said, “Then let me have them soon, for I think I can secure this bargain; and as the soldiers are come into the town, who are fond of these articles, I think it cannot fail to answer; so go, and Heaven speed you.” And Cola went, but with very different intentions from those imagined by his friend — Cola being now clear-sighted, and Juccio truly blind. The next day Cola called on his friend with very downcast and melancholy looks, and when Juccio bade him good day, he said, “I wish from my soul it were a good, or even a middling, day for me.” “Why, what is the matter?” “The matter?” echoed Cola; “why, it is all over with me: some rascal has stolen a hundred florins from the place where they were hidden, and I cannot recover a penny from my relations, so that I may eat my fingers off or anything I have to expect.” Juccio replied, “This is like all the rest of my speculations. I have invariably lost where I expected to make a good hit. What I shall do I know not, for if the person should choose to keep me to the agreement I made for you, I shall be in a pretty dilemma indeed.” “Yet,” said Cola, “I think my condition is still worse than yours. I shall be sadly distressed and shall have to amass afresh capital, which will take me ever so long. And when I have got it, I will take care not to conceal it in a hole in the floor, or trust it, Juccio, into any friend’s hands.” “But,” said Juccio, “if we could contrive to recover what is owing by your relations, we might still make some pretty profit of it, I doubt not.” For he thought, if he could only get hold of the hundred he had returned it would still be something in his way. “Why,” said Cola, “to tell the truth, if I were to proceed against my relations I believe I might get it; but such a thing would ruin my business, my dear Juccio, for ever: the world would know I was worth money, and I should get no more money from the world; so I fear I shall hardly be able to profit by your kindness, though I shall always consider myself as much obliged as if I had actually cleared a large sum. Moreover, I am going to teach another blind man my profession, and if we have luck you shall see me again, and we can venture a speculation together.” So far the wily mendicant, to whom Juccio said, “Well, go and try to get money soon, and bring it; you know where to find me, but look sharp about you and the Lord speed you; farewell.” “Farewell,” said Cola; “and I am well rid of thee,” he whispered to himself, and going upon his way, in a short time he doubled his capital; but he no longer went near his friend Juccio to know how he should invest it. He had great diversion in telling the story to his companions during their feasts, always concluding, “By St. Lucia! Juccio is the blinder man of the two: he thought it was a bold stroke to risk his hundred to double the amount.”
For my own part, I think the blind must possess a more acute intellect than other people, inasmuch as the light, exhibiting such a variety of objects to view, is apt to distract the attention, of which many examples might be adduced. For instance, two gentlemen may be conversing together on some matter of business, and in the middle of a sentence a fine woman happens to pass by, and they will suddenly stop, gazing after her; or a fine equipage or any other object is enough to turn the current of their thoughts. And then we are obliged to recollect ourselves, saying, “Where was I?” “What was it that I was observing?"— a thing which never occurs to a blind man. The philosopher Democritus very properly on this account knocked his eyes out in order to catch objects in a juster light with his mind’s eye.
It is impossible to describe Juccio’s vexation on going to church and finding the florins were gone. His regret was far greater than if he had actually lost a hundred of his own; as is known to be the case with all inveterate rogues, half of whose pleasure consists in depriving others of their lawful property.
There are many analogous stories, one of which is the well-known tale of the merchant who, before going on a journey, deposited with a dervish 1,000 sequins, which he thought it prudent to reserve in case of accidents. When he returned and requested his deposit, the dervish flatly denied that he ever had any of his money. Upon this the merchant went and laid his case before the kazi, who advised him to return to the dervish and speak pleasantly to him, which he does, but receives nothing but abuse. He informed the kazi of this, and was told not to go near the dervish for the present, but to be at ease for he should have his money next day. The kazi then sent for the dervish, and after entertaining him sumptuously, told him that, for certain reasons, he was desirous of removing a considerable sum of money from his house; that he knew of no person in whom he could confide so much as himself; and that if he would come the following evening at a late hour, he should have the precious deposit. On hearing this, the dervish expressed his gratification that so much confidence should be placed in his integrity, and agreed to take charge of the treasure. Next day the merchant returned to the kazi, who bade him go back to the dervish and demand his money once more, and should he refuse, threaten to complain to the kazi. The result may be readily guessed: no sooner did the merchant mention the kazi than the rascally dervish said, “My good friend, what need is there to complain to the kazi? Here is your money; it was only a little joke on my part.” But in the evening, when he went to receive the kazi’s pretended deposit, he experienced the truth of the saw, that “covetousness sews up the eyes of cunning.”
A variant of this found in the continental “Gesta Romanorum” (ch. cxviii. of Swan’s translation), in which a knight deposits ten talents with a respectable old man, who when called upon to refund the money denies all knowledge of it. By the advice of an old woman the knight has ten chests made, and employs a person to take them to the old man and represent them as containing treasure; and while one of them is being carried into his house the knight enters and in the stranger’s presence demands his money, which is at once delivered to him.
In Mr. Edward Rehatsek’s translated selections from the Persian story-book “Shamsa ú Kuhkuha” (see ante, p. 237), printed at Bombay in 1871, under the title of “Amusing Stories,” there is a tale (No. xviii.) which also bears some resemblance to that of the Melancholist and the Sharper; and as Mr. Rehatsek’s little work is exceedingly scarce, I give it in extenso as follows:
There was in Damascus a man of the name of Zayn el-Arab, with the honey of whose life the poison of hardships was always mixed. Day and night he hastened like the breeze from north to south in the world of exertion, and he was burning brightly like straw, from his endeavours in the oven of acquisition in order to gain a loaf of bread and feed his family. In course of time, however, he succeeded in accumulating a considerable sum of money, but as he had tasted the bitter poison of destitution, and had for a very long time earned the heavy load of poverty upon his back, and fearing to lose his property by the chameleon-like changes of fortune, he took up his money on a certain night, carried it out of the city, and buried it under a tree. After some time had passed be began sorely to miss the presence of his treasure, and betook himself to the tree to refresh his eyes with the sight of it. But when he dug up the ground at the foot of the tree he discovered that his soul-exhilarating deposit was refreshing the palate of some one else. The morning of his prosperity was suddenly changed into the evening of bitterness and disappointment. He was perplexed to what friend to confide his secret, and to what remedy to fly for the recovery of his treasure. The lancet of grief had pierced the liver of his peace, and the huntsman of distress had tied up the wings and feet of the bird of his serenity. One day he went on some business to a learned and wise man of the city with whom he was on a footing of intimacy. This man said to him, “It is some time since I perceived the glade of your circumstances to have been destroyed by the burning coals of restlessness, and a sad change to have taken place in your health. I do not know the reason, nor what thorn of misfortune has pierced the foot of your heart, nor what hardship has dawned from the east of your mind.” Zayn el-Arab wept tears of sadness and said, “O thou standard coin from the mint of love! the treachery of misfortune has brought a strange accident upon me, and the bow of destiny has let fly an unpropitious arrow upon my feeble target. I have a heavy heart and great sorrow, and were I to reveal it to you perhaps it would be of no use and would plunge you also into grief.” The learned man said, “Since the hearts of intimate friends are like looking-glasses and are receiving the figures of mutual secrets, it is at all times necessary that they should communicate to each other any difficulties which they have fallen into, that they may remove them by taking in common those steps which prudence and foresight should recommend.” Zayn el-Arab replied, “Dear friend, I had some gold, and fearing lest it should be stolen, I carried it to such and such a place and buried it under a tree, and when I again visited the place, I perceived the garment of my beloved Joseph to be sprinkled with the blood of the wolf of deception.” The learned man said, “This is a grave accident, and it will be difficult to get on the track of your gold. Perhaps some one saw you bury it: he who has taken it will have to give an account of it in the next world, for God is omniscient. Give me ten days’ delay, that I may study the book of expedients and stratagems, when mayhap somewhat will occur to me.”
That knowing man sat down for ten days in the school of meditation, and how much so ever he turned over the leaves of the volume of his mind from the preface to the epilogue, he could hit upon no plan. On the tenth day they again met in the street, and he said to Zayn el-Arab, “Although the diver of my mind has plunged deeply and searched diligently in this deep sea, he has been unable to seize the precious pearl of a wise plan of operation: may God recompense you from the stores of His hidden treasury!” They were conversing in this way when a lunatic met them and said, “Well, my boys, what secret- mongering have you got between you?” The learned man said to Zayn el-Arab, “Come, let us relate our case to this crazy fellow, to see the flower of the plant that may bloom from his mind.” Zayn el-Arab replied, “Dear friend, you, with all your knowledge, cannot devise anything during ten days: what information are we likely to gain from a poor lunatic who does not know whether it is now day or night?” The learned man said, “There is no telling what he may say to us. But you know that the most foolish as well as the most wise have ideas, and a sentence uttered at random has sometimes furnished a clue by which the desired object may be attained.” Meanwhile a little boy also came up, and perceiving the lunatic stopped to see his tricks. The two friends explained their case to the lunatic, who then seemed immersed in thought for some time, after which he said, “He who took the root of that tree for a medicine also took the gold,” and having thus spoken, he turned his back upon them and went his way. They consulted with each other what indication this remark might furnish, when the little boy who had overheard the conversation, asked what kind of tree it was. Zayn el-Arab replied that it was a jujube tree. The boy said, “This is an easy matter: you ought to inquire of all the doctors of this town for whom a medicine has been prescribed of the roots of this tree.” They greatly admired the boy’s acuteness and also of the lunatic’s lucky thought.511 The learned man was well acquainted with all the physicians of the city and made his enquiries, till he met with one who informed him that about twenty days ago he had prescribed for a merchant of the name of Khoja Semender, who suffered from asthma, and that one of the remedies was the root of that jujube tree. The learned man soon discovered the merchant’s house, found him enjoying excellent health, and said to him, “Ah Khoja, all the goods of this world ought to be surrendered to procure health. By the blessing of God, you have recovered your health, and you ought to give up what you found at the root of that tree, because the owner of it is a worthy man and possesses nothing else.” The honest merchant answered, “It is true, I have found it, and it is with me. If you will describe it I will deliver it into your hands.” The exact sum being stated, the merchant at once delivered up the gold.
In the “Kathá Sarit Ságara,” Book vi. ch. 33, we have probably the original of this last story: A wealthy merchant provided a Bráhman with a lodging near his own house, and every day gave him a large quantity of unhusked rice and other presents and in course of time he received like gifts from other great merchants. In this way the miserly fellow gradually accumulated a thousand dínárs, and going into the forest he dug a hole and buried it in the ground, and he went daily to carefully examine the spot. One day, however, he discovered that his hoard had been stolen, and he went to his friend the merchant near whose house he lived, and, weeping bitterly, told him of his loss, and that he had resolved to go to a holy bathing-place and there starve himself to death. The merchant tried to console him and dissuade him from his resolution, saying, “Bráhman, why do you long to die for the loss of your wealth? Wealth, like an unseasonable cloud, suddenly comes and goes.” But the Bráhman would not abandon his fixed determination to commit suicide, for wealth is dearer to the miser than life itself. When he was about to depart for the holy place, the king, having heard of it, came and asked him, “Bráhman, do you know of any mark by which you can distinguish the place where you buried your dínárs?” He replied, “There is a small tree in the wood, at the foot of which I buried that money.” Then said the king, “I will find the money and give it back to you, or I will give it you from my own treasury; — do not commit suicide, Bráhman.”
When the king returned to his palace, he pretended to have a headache, and summoned all the physicians in the city by proclamation with beat of drum. And he took aside every one of them singly and questioned them privately, saying, “What patients have you, and what medicines have you prescribed for each?” And they thereupon, one by one, answered the king’s questions. At length a physician said, “The merchant Mátridatta has been out of sorts, O king, and this is the second day I have prescribed for him nágabalá (the plant Uraria Lagopodioides).” Then the king sent for the merchant, and said to him, “Tell me, who fetched you the nágabalá?” The merchant replied, “My servant, your highness.” On hearing this, the king at once summoned the servant and said to him, “Give up that treasure belonging to a Bráhman, consisting of a store of dínárs, which you found when you were digging at the foot of the tree for nágabalá.” When the king said this to him the servant was frightened, and confessed immediately, and bringing the money left it there. Then the king summoned the Bráhman and gave him, who had been fasting meanwhile, the dínárs, lost and found again, like a second soul external to his body. Thus did the king by his wisdom recover to the Bráhman his wealth which had been taken away from the root of the tree, knowing that that simple grew in such spots.
511 Idiots and little boys often figure thus in popular tales: readers of Rabelais will remember his story of the Fool and the Cook; and there is a familiar example of a boy’s precocity in the story of the Stolen Purse —“Craft and Malice of Women,” or the Seven Wazirs, vol. vi. of The Nights.
This is one of three Arabian variants of Chaucer’s Man of Law’s Tale (the Story of Constance), of which there are numerous versions — see my paper entitled “The Innocent Persecuted Wife,” pp. 365-414 of “Originals and Analogues of some of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.”
Somewhat resembling his, but much more elaborate, is the amusing story of Ahmed the Cobbler, in Sir John Malcolm’s “Sketches of Persia,” ch. xx., the original of which is probably found in the tale of Harisarman, book vi. ch. 30, of the “Kathá Sarit Ságara,” and it has many European variants, such as the German story of Doctor Allwissend, in Grimm’s collection, and that of the Charcoal Burner in Sir George Dasent’s “Tales from the Fjeld. — According to the Persian story, Ahmed the Cobbler had a young and pretty wife, of whom he was very fond. She was ever forming grand schemes of riches and splendour, and was firmly persuaded that she was destined to great fortune. It happened one evening, while in this frame of mind, that she went to the public baths, where she saw a lady retiring dressed in a magnificent robe, covered with jewels, and surrounded by slaves. This was the very condition she had always longed for, and she eagerly inquired the name of the happy person who had so many attendants and such fine jewels. She learned it was the wife of the chief astrologer to the king. With this information she returned home. Ahmed met her at the door, but was received with a frown, nor could all his caresses obtain a smile or a word; for several hours she continued silent, and in apparent misery, at length she said, “Cease your caresses, unless you are ready to give me a proof that you do really and sincerely love me.” “What proof of love,” exclaimed poor Ahmed, “can you desire that I will not give?” “Give over cobbling, it is a vile, low trade, and never yields more than ten or twelve dínárs a day. Turn astrologer; your fortune will be made, and I shall have all I wish and be happy.” “Astrologer!” cried Ahmed —“astrologer! Have you forgotten who I am — a cobbler, without any learning — that you want me to engage in a profession which requires so much skill and knowledge?” “I neither think nor care about your qualifications,” said the enraged wife; “all I know is that if you do not turn astrologer immediately, I will be divorced from you to-morrow.” The cobbler remonstrated, but in vain. The figure of the astrologer’s wife, with her jewels and her slaves, took complete possession of her imagination. All night it haunted her: she dreamt of nothing else, and on awakening declared that she would leave the house if her husband did not comply with her wishes. What could poor Ahmed do? He was no astrologer, but he was dotingly fond of his wife, and he could not bear the idea of losing her. He promised to obey, and having sold his little stock, bought an astrolabe, an astronomical almanac, and a table of the twelve signs of the zodiac. Furnished with these, he went to the marketplace, crying, “I am an astrologer! I know the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and the twelve signs of the zodiac; I can calculate nativities; I can foretell everything that is to happen.” No man was better known than Ahmed the Cobbler. A crowd soon gathered round him. “What, friend Ahmed,” said one, “have you worked till your head is turned?” “Are you tired of looking down at your last,” cried another, “that you are now looking up at the stars?” These and a thousand other jokes assailed the ears of the poor cobbler, who notwithstanding continued to exclaim that he was an astrologer, having resolved on doing what he could to please his beautiful wife.
It so happened that the king’s jeweller was passing by. He was in great distress, having lost the richest ruby belonging to the king. Every search had been made to recover this inestimable jewel, but to no purpose; and as the jeweller knew he could no longer conceal its loss from the king, he looked forward to death as inevitable. In this hopeless state, while wandering about the town, he reached the crowd around Ahmed, and asked what was the matter. “Don’t you know Ahmed the Cobbler?” said one of the bystanders, laughing. “He has been inspired and is become an astrologer.” A drowning man will catch at a broken reed: the jeweller no sooner heard the sound of the word astrologer than he went up to Ahmed, told him what had happened, and said, “If you understand your art, you must be able to discover the king’s ruby. Do so, and I will give you two hundred pieces of gold. But if you do not succeed within six hours, I will use my influence at court to have you put to death as an impostor.” Poor Ahmed was thunderstruck. He stood long without being able to speak, reflecting on his misfortunes, and grieving, above all, that his wife, whom he so loved, had, by her envy and selfishness, brought him to such a fearful alternative. Full of these sad thoughts, he exclaimed aloud, “O woman! woman! thou art more baneful to the happiness of man than the poisonous dragon of the desert!” Now the lost ruby had been secreted by the jeweller’s wife, who, disquieted by those alarms which ever attend guilt, sent one of her female slaves to watch her husband. This slave, on seeing her master speak to the astrologer, drew near; and when she heard Ahmed, after some moments of abstraction, compare a woman to a poisonous dragon, she was satisfied that he must know everything. She ran to her mistress, and, breathless with fear, cried, “You are discovered by a vile astrologer! Before six hours are past the whole story will be known, and you will become infamous, if you are even so fortunate as to escape with life, unless you can find some way of prevailing on him to be merciful.” She then related what she had seen and heard; and Ahmed’s exclamation carried as complete conviction to the mind of the terrified lady as it had done to that of her slave. The jeweller’s wife hastily throwing on her veil, went in search of the dreaded astrologer. When she found him, she erred, “Spare my honour and my life, and I will confess everything.” “What can you have to confess to me?” said Ahmed, in amazement. “O nothing — nothing with which you are not already acquainted. You know too well that I stole the king’s ruby. I did so to punish my husband, who uses me most cruelly; and I thought by this means to obtain riches for myself and have him put to death. But you, most wonderful man, from whom nothing is hidden, have discovered and defeated my wicked plan. I beg only for mercy, and will do whatever you command me.” An angel from heaven could not have brought more consolation to Ahmed than did the jeweller’s wife. He assumed all the dignified solemnity that became his new character, and said, “Woman! I know all thou hast done, and it is fortunate for thee that thou hast come to confess thy sin and beg for mercy before it was too late. Return to thy house; put the ruby under the pillow of the couch on which thy husband sleeps; let it be laid on the side farthest from the door, and be satisfied thy guilt shall never be even suspected.” The jeweller’s wife went home and did as she was instructed. In an hour Ahmed followed her, and told the jeweller he had made his calculations, and found by the aspect of the sun and moon, and by the configuration of the stars, that the ruby was at that moment lying under the pillow of his couch on the side farthest from the door. The jeweller thought Ahmed must be crazy; but as a ray of hope is like a ray from heaven to the wretched, he ran to his couch, and there, to his joy and wonder, found the ruby in the very place described. He came back to Ahmed, embraced him, called him his dearest friend and the preserver of his life, gave him two hundred pieces of gold, declaring that he was the first astrologer of the age.
Ahmed returned home with his lucky gains, and would gladly have resumed his cobbling but his wife insisting on his continuing to practice his new profession, there was no help but to go out again next day and proclaim his astrological accomplishments. By mere chance he is the means of a lady recovering a valuable necklace which she had lost at the bath, and forty chests of gold stolen from the king’s treasury, and is finally rewarded with the hand of the king’s daughter in marriage.
In the “Indian Antiquary” for June 1886 the Rev. J. Hinton Knowles gives a translation of what he terms a Kashmírí Tale, under the title of “Pride Abased,” which, he says, was told him by “a Brahman named Mukund Báyú, who resides at Suthú, Srínagar,” and which is an interesting variant of the Wazír Er-Rahwan’s second story of the King who lost his Realm and Wealth:
There was once a king who was noted throughout his dominions for daily boasting of his power and riches. His ministers at length became weary of this self-glorification, and one day when he demanded of them, as usual, whether there existed in the whole world another king as powerful as he, they plainly told him that there was such another potentate, upon which he assembled his troops and rode forth at their head, challenging the neighbouring kings to fight with him. Ere long he met with more than his match, for another king came with a great army and utterly defeated him, and took possession of his kingdom. Disguising himself, the humbled king escaped with his wife and two boys, and arriving at the sea shore, found a ship about to sail. The master agreed to take him and his family and land them at the port for which he was bound. But when he beheld the beauty of the queen, he became enamoured of her, and determined to make her his own. The queen was the first to go on board the ship, and the king and his two sons were about to follow, when they were seized by a party of ruffians, hired by the shipmaster, and held back until the vessel had got fairly under way. The queen was distracted on seeing her husband and children left behind, and refused to listen to the master’s suit, who, after having tried to win her love for several days without success, resolved to sell her as a slave. Among the passengers was a merchant, who, seeing that the lady would not accept the shipmaster for her husband, thought that if he bought her, he might in time gain her affection. Accordingly he purchased her of the master for a large sum of money, and then told her that he had done so with a view of making her his wife. The lady replied that, although the shipman had no right thus to dispose of her, yet she would consent to marry him at the end of two years, if she did not during that period meet with her husband and their two sons, and to this condition the merchant agreed. In the meanwhile the king, having sorrowfully watched the vessel till it was out of sight, turned back with his two boys, who wept and lamented as they ran beside him. After walking a great distance, he came to a shallow but rapid river, which he wished to cross, and, as there was no boat or bridge, he was obliged to wade through the water. Taking up one of his sons he contrived to reach the other side in safety, and was returning for the other when the force of the current overcame him and he was drowned.
When the two boys noticed that their father had perished, they wept bitterly. Their separation, too, was a further cause for grief. There they stood, one on either side of the river, with no means of reaching each other. They shouted, and ran about hither and thither in their grief, till they had almost wearied themselves into sleep, when a fisherman came past, who, seeing the great distress of the boys, took them into his boat, and asked them who they were, and who were their parents; and they told him all that had happened. When he had heard their story, he said, “You have not a father or mother, and I have not a child. Evidently God has sent you to me. Will you be my own children and learn to fish, and live in my house?” Of course, the poor boys were only too glad to find a friend and shelter. “Come,” said the fisherman kindly, leading them out of the boat to a house close by, “I will look after you.” The boys followed most happily, and went into the fisherman’s house, and when they saw his wife they were still better pleased, for she was very kind to them, and treated them as if they had been her own children. The two boys went to school, and when they had learned all that the master could teach them, they began to help their adoptive father, and in a little while became most expert and diligent young fishermen.
Thus time was passing with them, when it happened that a great fish threw itself on to the bank of the river and could not get back again into the water. Everybody in the village went to see the monstrous fish, and cut a slice of its flesh and took it home. A few people also went from the neighbouring villages, and amongst them was a maker of earthernware. His wife had heard of the great fish and urged him to go and get some of the flesh. So he went, although the hour was late. On his arrival he found that all the people had returned to their homes. The potter had taken an axe with him, thinking that the bones would be so great and strong as to require its use in breaking them. When he struck the first blow a voice came out of the fish, like that of some one in pain, at which the potter was greatly surprised. “Perhaps,” thought he, “the fish is possessed by a bhút.513 I’ll try again,” whereupon he struck another blow with his axe. Again the voice came forth from the fish, saying, “Woe is me! woe is me!” On hearing this, the potter thought, “Well, this is evidently not a bhút, but the voice of an ordinary man. I’ll cut the flesh carefully. May be that I shall find some poor distressed person.” So he began to cut away the flesh carefully, and presently he perceived a man’s foot, then the legs appeared, and then the entire body. “Praise be to God,” he cried, “the soul is yet in him.” He carried the man to his house as fast as he could, and on arriving there did everything in his power to recover him. A large fire was soon got ready, and tea and soup given the man, and great was the joy of the potter and his wife when they saw him reviving.514 For some months the stranger lived with those good people, and learnt how to make pots and pans and other articles and thereby helped them considerably. Now it happened that the king of that country died and it was the custom of the people to take for their sovereign whomsoever the late king’s elephant and hawk should select. And so on the death of the king the royal elephant was driven all over the country, and the hawk was made to fly about, in search of a successor and it came to pass that the person before whom the elephant saluted and on whom the hawk alighted was considered as the divinely-chosen one. Accordingly the elephant and the hawk went about the country, and in the course of their wanderings came by the house of the potter who had so kindly succoured the poor man whom he found in the belly of the monstrous fish; and it chanced that as they passed the place the stranger was standing by the door, and behold, no sooner did the elephant and hawk see him than the one bowed down before him and the other perched on his hand. “Let him be king! let him be king!” shouted the people who were in attendance on the elephant, and they prostrated themselves before the stranger and begged him to accompany them to the palace.515
The ministers were glad when they heard the news, and most respectfully welcomed their new king. As soon as the rites and ceremonies necessary for the installation of a king had been observed, his majesty entered on his duties. The first thing he did was to send for the potter and his wife and grant them some land and money. In this and other ways such as just judgments, proper laws, and kindly notices of all who were clever and good, he won for himself the good opinion and affection of his subjects and prospered in consequence thereof. After a few months, however, his health was impaired, and his physicians advised him to take out-door exercise. Accordingly, he alternately rode, hunted and fished. He was especially fond of fishing, and whenever he indulged in this amusement, he was attended by two sons of a fisherman, who were clever and handsome youths.
About this time the merchant who bought the wife of the poor king that was carried away by the rapid river visited that country for purposes of trade. He obtained an interview with the king, and displayed before him all his precious stones and stuffs. The king was much pleased to see such treasures, and asked many questions about them and the countries whence they had been brought. The merchant satisfied the king’s curiosity, and then begged permission to trade in that country, under his majesty’s protection, which the king readily granted, and ordered that some soldiers should be placed on guard in the merchant’s courtyard, and sent the fisherman’s two sons to sleep in the premises.
One night those two youths not being able to sleep, the younger asked his brother to tell him a story to pass the time, so he replied, “I will tell you one out of our own experience: Once upon a time there lived a great and wealthy king, who was very proud, and his pride led him to utter ruin and caused him the sorest afflictions.. One day when going about with his army, challenging other kings to fight with him, a great and powerful king appeared and conquered him. He escaped with his wife and two sons to the sea, hoping to find a vessel, by which he and his family might reach a foreign land. After walking several miles they reached the sea-shore and found a ship ready to sail. The master of the vessel took the queen, but the king and his two sons were held back by some men, who had been hired by the master for this purpose, until the ship was under way. The poor king after this walked long and far till he came to a rapid river. As there was no bridge or boat near, he was obliged to wade across. He took one of his boys and got over safely, and was returning for the other when he stumbled over a stone, lost his footing, and was carried down the stream; and he has not been heard of since. A fisherman came along, and, seeing the two boys crying, took them into his boat, and afterwards to his house, and became very fond of them, as did also his wife, and they were like father and mother to them. All this happened a few years ago, and the two boys are generally believed to be the fisherman’s own sons. O brother, we are these two boys! And there you have my story.”
The tale was so interesting and its conclusion so wonderful that the younger brother was more awake than before. It had also attracted the attention of another. The merchant’s promised wife, who happened to be lying awake at the time, and whose room was separated from the warehouse by a very thin partition, overheard all that had been said, and she thought within herself, “Surely these two boys must be my own sons.” Presently she was sitting beside them and asking them many questions. Two years or more had made great difference in the persons of both the boys, but there were certain signs which a hundred years could not efface from a mother’s memory. These, together with the answers which she elicited from them, assured her that she had found her own sons again. Tears streamed down her face as she embraced them, and revealed to them that she was the queen, their mother, about whom they had just been speaking. She then told them all that had happened to her since she had been parted from them and their poor father, the king; after which she explained that although the merchant was a good man and very wealthy yet she did not like him well enough to become his wife, and proposed a plan for her getting rid of him. “My device,” said she, “is to pretend to the merchant that you attempted my honour. I shall affect to be very angry and not give him any peace until he goes to the king and complains against you. Then will the king send for you in great wrath and inquire into this matter. In reply you may say it is all a mistake, for you regard me as your own mother, and in proof of this you will beg the king to summon me into his presence, that I may corroborate what you say. Then I will declare that you are really my own sons, and beseech the king to free me from the merchant and allow me to live with you in any place I may choose for the rest of my days.”
The sons agreed to this proposal, and next night, when the merchant was also sleeping in the house, the woman raised a great cry, so that everybody was awakened by the noise. The merchant came and asked the cause of the outcry, and she answered, “The two youths who look after your warehouse have attempted to violate me, so I screamed in order to make them desist.” On hearing this the merchant was enraged. He immediately bound the two youths, and, as soon as there was any chance of seeing the king, took them before him preferred his complaint. “What have you to say in your defence?” said the king, addressing the youths; “because, if what this merchant charges against you be true, I will have you at once put to death. Is this the gratitude you manifest for all my kindness and condescension towards you? Say quickly what you have to say.” “O king, our benefactor,” replied the elder brother, “we are not affrighted by your words and looks, for we are true servants. We have not betrayed your trust in us, but have always tried to fully your wishes to the utmost of our power. The charges brought against us by this merchant are unfounded. We have not attempted to dishonour his wife; we have rather always regarded her as our own mother. May it please your majesty to send for the woman and inquire further into this matter.”
The king consented, and the woman was brought before him. “Is it true,” he asked her “what the merchant, your affianced husband, witnesses against these two youths?” “O king,” she replied, “the youths whom you gave to help the merchant have most carefully tried to carry out your wishes. But the night before last I heard their conversation. The elder was telling the younger a tale, from his own experience, he said. It was a story of a conceited king who had been defeated by another more powerful than he, and obliged to fly with his wife and two children to the sea. There, through the vile trickery of the master of a vessel, the wife was stolen and taken away to far distant lands, where she became engaged to a wealthy trader; while the exiled king and his two sons wandered in another direction, till they came to a river, in which the king was drowned. The two boys were found by a fisherman and brought up as his own sons. These two boys, O king, are before you, and I am their mother, who was taken away and sold to the trader, and who after two days must be married to him. For I promised that if within a certain period I should not meet with my husband and two sons I would be his wife. But I entreat your majesty to free me from this man. I do not wish to marry again, now that I have found my two sons. In order to obtain an audience of your majesty, this trick was arranged with the two youths.”
By the time the woman had finished her story the king’s face was suffused with tears and he was trembling visibly. When he had somewhat recovered he rose from the throne and going up to the woman and the two youths embraced them long and fervently. “You are my own dear wife and children,” he cried. “God has sent you back to me. I, the king, your husband, your father, was not drowned as you supposed; but was swallowed by a great fish and nourished by it for some time, and then the monster threw itself upon the river’s bank and I was extricated. A potter and his wife had pity on me and taught me their trade, and I was just beginning to earn my living by making earthen vessels when the late king of this country died, and I was chosen king by the royal elephant and hawk — I who am now standing here.” Then his majesty ordered the queen and her two sons to be taken into the inner apartments of the palace, and explained his conduct to the people assembled. The merchant was politely dismissed from the country. And as soon as the two princes were old enough to govern the kingdom, the king committed to them the charge of all affairs, while he retired with his wife to a sequestered spot and passed the rest of his days in peace.
The tale of Sarwar and Nír, “as told by a celebrated Bard from Baraut, in the Merath district,” in vol. iii. of Captain R. C. Temple’s “Legends of the Panjáb” (pp. 97-125) though differing in form somewhat from the Kashmírí version, yet possesses the leading incidents in common with it, as will be seen from the following abstract:
Ambá the rájá of Púná had a beautiful wife named Amlí and two young sons, Sarwar and Nír. There came to his court one day a fakír. The rájá promised to give him whatsoever he should desire. The fakir required Ambá to give up to him all he possessed, or lose his virtue, and the rájá gave him all, save his wife and two children, receiving in return the blessings of the fakír, Then the rájá and the rání went away; he carrying Sarwar in his bosom, and she with Nír in her lap. For a time they lived on the fruits and roots of the forest. At length the raní gave her husband her (jewelled) bodice to sell in the bazar, in order to procure food. He offered it to Kundan the merchant, who made him sit down and asked him where he had left the raní and why he did not bring her with him. Ambá told him that he had left her with their two boys under the banyan-tree. Then Kundan, leaving Ambá in the shop, went and got a litter, and proceeding to the banyan-tree showed the rání the bodice, and said, “Thy husband wishes thee to come to him.” Nothing doubting, the rání entered the litter, and the merchant sent it off to his own house. Leaving the boys in the forest, he returned to Ambá, and said to him that he had not enough money to pay the price of the bodice, so the rájá must take it back. Ambá took the bodice, and coming to the boys, learned from Sarwar how their mother had been carried away in a litter, and he was sorely grieved in his heart, but consoled the children, saying that their mother had gone to her brother’s house, and that he would take them to her at once. Placing the two boys on his shoulders he walked along till he came to a river. He set down Nír and carried Sarwar safely across, but as he was going back for the other, behold, an alligator seized him. It was the will of God: what remedy is there against the writing of Fate? The two boys, separated by the river, sat down and wept in their sorrow. In the early morning a washerman was up and spreading his clothes. He heard the two boys weeping and came to see. He had pity on them and brought them together. Then he took them to his house, and washed their faces and gave them food. He put them into a separate house and a Brahman cooked for them and gave them water.516 He caused the brothers to be taught all kinds of learning, and at the end of twelve years they both set out together to seek their living. They went to the city of Ujjain, and told the rájá their history — how they had left their home and kingdom. The rájá gave them arms and suitable clothing, and appointed them guards over the female apartments.517 One day a fisherman caught an alligator in his net. When he cut open its body, he found in it Rájá Ambá, alive.518 So he took him to the rájá of Ujjain, and told how he had found him in the stomach of an alligator. Ambá related his whole history to the rájá; how he gave up all his wealth and his kingdom to a fakír, how his wife had been stolen from him; and how after safely carrying one of his young sons over the river in returning for the other he had been swallowed by an alligator. On hearing of all these misfortunes the rájá of Ujjain pitied him and loved him in his heart: he adopted Ambá as his son; and they lived together twenty years, when the rájá died and Ambá obtained the throne.
Meanwhile the beautiful Rání Amlí, the wife of Ambá, had continued to refuse the merchant Kundan’s reiterated proffers of love. At length he said to her, “Many days have passed over thee, live now in my house as my wife.” And she replied, “Let me bathe in the Ganges, and then I will dwell in thy house.” So he took elephants and horses and lakhs of coin, and set the rání in a litter and started on the journey. When he reached the city of Ujjain, he made a halt and pitched his tents. Then he went before Rájá Ambá and said, “Give me a guard, for the nights are dark. Hitherto I have had much trouble and no ease at nights. I am going to bathe in the Ganges, to give alms and much food to Brahmans. I am come, rájá, to salute thee, bringing many things from my house.”
The rájá sent Sarwar and Nír as guards. They watched the tents, and while the rain was falling the two brothers began talking over their sorrows, saying “What can our mother be doing? Whither hath our father gone?” Their mother overheard them talking, and by the will of God she recognised the princes; then she tore open the tent, and cried aloud, “All my property is gone! Who brought this thief to my tent?” The rání had both Sarwar and Nír seized, and brought before Rájá Ambá on the charge of having stolen her property. The rájá held a court, and began to ask questions, saying, “Tell me what hath passed during the night. How much of thy property hath gone, my friend? I will do thee justice, according to thy desire: my heart is grieved that thy goods are gone.” Then said the raní, “Be careful of the young elephant! The lightning flashes and the heavy rain is falling. Said Nír, ‘Hear, brother Sarwar, who knows whither our mother hath gone?’ And I recognised my son; so I made all this disturbance, raja [in order to get access to thee]”. 519 Hearing this, Rájá Ambá rose up and took her to his breast — Amlí and Ambá met again through the mercy of God. The rájá gave orders to have Kundan hanged, saving, “Do it at once, he is a scoundrel; undo him that he may not live.” They quickly fetched the executioners and put on the noose; and then was Kundan strangled. The rání dwelt in the palace and all her troubles passed far away. She fulfilled all her obligations, and obtained great happiness through her virtue.
Under the title of “Krisa Gautami” in the collection of “Tibetan Tales from Indian Sources,” translated by Mr. Ralston from the German of Von Schiefner, we have what appears to be a very much garbled form of an old Buddhist version of our story. The heroine is married to a young merchant, whose father gives him some arable land in a hill district, where he resides with Krisa Guatami his wife.
When the time came for her to expect her confinement, she obtained leave of her husband to go to her parents’ house in order that she might have the attendance of her mother. After her confinement and the naming of the boy, she returned home. When the time of her second confinement drew near, she again expressed to her husband a desire to go to her parents. Her husband set out with her and the boy in a waggon; but by the time they had gone half way she gave birth to a boy. When the husband saw that this was to take place he got out of the waggon, sat under a tree, and fell asleep. While he was completely overcome by slumber a snake bit him and he died. When his wife in her turn alighted from the waggon, and went up to the tree in order to bring him the joyful tidings that a son was born unto him, he, as he had given up the ghost, made no reply. She seized him by the hand and found that he was dead. Then she began to weep. Meantime a thief carried off the oxen. After weeping for a long time, and becoming very mournful, she looked around on every side, pressed the new-born babe to her bosom, took the elder child by the hand, and set out on her way. As a heavy rain had unexpectedly fallen, all the lakes, ponds, and springs were full of water, and the road was flooded by the river. She reflected that if she were to cross the water with both the children at once, she and they might meet with a disaster, and therefore the children had better be taken over separately. So she seated the elder boy on the bank of the river, and took the younger one in her arms, walked across to the other side and laid him down upon the bank. Then she went back for the elder boy. But while she was in the middle of the river, the younger boy was carried off by a jackal. The elder boy thought that his mother was calling him, and sprang into the water. The bank was very steep, so he fell down and was killed. The mother hastened after the jackal, who let the child drop and ran off. When she looked at it, she found that it was dead. So after she had wept over it, she threw it into the water. When she saw that the elder was being carried along by the stream, she became still more distressed. She hastened after him, and found that he was dead. Bereft of both husband and children, she gave way to despair, and sat down alone on the bank, with only the lower part of her body covered. There she listened to the howling of the wind, the roaring of the forest and of the waves, as well as the singing of various kinds of birds. Then wandering to and fro, with sobs and tears of woe, she lamented the loss of her husband and her two children.
She meets with one of her father’s domestics, who informs her that her parents and their servants had all been destroyed by a hurricane, and that “he only had escaped” to tell her the sad tidings. After this she is married to a weaver, who ill-uses her, and she escapes from him one night. She attaches herself to some travellers returning from a trading expedition in the north, and the leader of the caravan takes her for his wife. The party are attacked by robbers and the leader is killed. She then becomes the wife of the chief of the robbers, who in his turn finds death at the hands of the king of that country, and she is placed in his zenana.
The king died, and she was buried alive in his tomb, after having had great honour shown to her by the women, the princes, the ministers, and a vast concourse of people. Some men from the north who were wont to rob graves broke into this one also. The dust they raised entered into Krisa Gautami’s nostrils, and made her sneeze. The grave-robbers were terrified, thinking that she was a demon (vetála), and they fled; but Krisa Gautami escaped from the grave through the opening which they had made. Conscious of all her troubles, and affected by the want of food, just as a violent storm arose, she went out of her mind. Covered with merely her underclothing, her hands and feet foul and rough, with long locks and pallid complexion, she wandered about until she reached Sravastí. There, at the sight of Bhagavant, she recovered her intellect. Bhagavant ordered Ananda to give her an overrobe, and he taught her the doctrine, and admitted her into the ecclesiastical body, and he appointed her the chief of the Bhikshunís who had embraced discipline.520
This remarkable story is one of those which reached Europe long anterior to the Crusades. It is found in the Greek martyr acts, which were probably composed in the eighth century, where it is told of Saint Eustache, who was before his baptism a captain of Trajan, named Placidus, and the same legend reappears, with modifications of the details, in many mediFval collections and forms the subject of several romances. In most versions the motif is similar to that of the story of Job. The following is the outline of the original legend, according to the Greek martyr acts:
As Placidus one day hunted in the forest, the Saviour appeared to him between the antlers of a hart, and converted him. Placidus changed his name into Eustache, when he was baptised with his wife and sons. God announced to him by an angel his future martyrdom. Eustache was afflicted by dreadful calamities, lost all his estate, and was compelled to go abroad as a beggar with his wife and his children. As he went on board a ship bound for Egypt, his wife was seized by the shipmaster and carried off. Soon after, when Eustache was travelling along the shore, his two children were borne off by a lion and a leopard. Eustache then worked for a long time as journeyman, till he was discovered by the emperor Trajan, who had sent out messengers for him, and called him to court. Reappointed captain, Eustache undertook an expedition against the Dacians. During this war he found his wife in a cottage as a gardener — the shipmaster had fallen dead to the ground as he ventured to touch her — and in the same cottage he found again his two sons as soldiers: herdsmen had rescued them from the wild beasts and brought them up. Glad was their meeting again! But as they returned to Rome they were all burnt in a glowing bull of brass by the emperor’s order, because they refused to sacrifice to the heathen gods.521
The story of Placidus, which forms chapter 110 of the continental “Gesta Romanorum,” presents few and unimportant variations from the foregoing: Eustatius came to a river the water of which ran so high that it seemed hazardous to attempt to cross it with both the children at the same time; one therefore he placed upon the bank, and then passed over with the other in his arms, and having laid it on the ground, he returned for the other child. But in the midst of the river, looking back, he beheld a wolf snatch up the child he had just carried over and run with it into the adjoining wood. He turned to rescue it, but at that instant a huge lion approached the other child and disappeared with it. After the loss of his two boys Eustatius journeyed on till he came to a village, where he remained for fifteen years, tending sheep as a hired servant, when he was discovered by Trajan’s messengers, and so on.
The story is so differently told in one of the Early English translations of the “Gesta Romanorum” in the Harleian MSS. 7333 (re-edited by Herrtage for the E.E.T. Soc., pp. 87-91) that it is worth while, for purposes of comparison, reproducing it here in full:
Averios was a wise emperour regnyng in the cite of Rome; and he let crye a grete feste, and who so ever wold come to that feste, and gete victory in the tournament, he shuld have his doughter to wyf, after his decease. So there was a doughti knyght, and hardy in armys, and specially in tournament, the which hadde wyf, and two yong children of age of thre yere; and when this knyght had herd this crye, in a clere morowenyng522 he entred in to a forest, and there he herd a nyghtingale syng upon a tre so swetly, that he herd never so swete a melody afore that tyme. The knyght sette him doun undre the tre, and seid to him self, “Now, Lord, if I myght knowe what this brid523 shold bemene!”524 There come an old man, and seid to him, “That thou shalt go within tines thre daies to the emperours feste and thou shalt suffre grete persecution or thou come there, and if thou be constant, and pacient in all thi tribulacion, thy sorowe shal turne the525 to grete joy, and, ser. this is the interpretacion of his song.” When this was seid, the old man vanysshed, and the brid fly away. Tho526 the knyght had grete merviell; he yede527 to his wif, and told her the cas.528 “Ser.” quod she, “the will of God be fulfilled, but I counsel! that we go to the feste of the emperour and that ye thynk on the victory in the tournament, by the which we may be avaunced529 and holpen.”530 When the knyght had made all thing redy, there come a grete fire in the nyght; and brent531 up all his hous and all his goodis, for which he had grete sorowe in hert, nevertheles, notwithstondyng ail this, he yede forthe toward the see, with his wife, and with his two childryn, and there he hired a ship, to passe over. When thei come to londe, the maister of the shippe asked of the knyght his hire for his passage, for him, and for his wif and for his two childryn. “Dere freed,” said the knyght to him, “dere freed, suffre me, and thou shalt have all thyn, for I go now to the feste of the emperour, where I trust to have the victory in turnement, and then thou shalt be wele ypaied.” “Nay, by the feith that I owe to the emperour,” quod that other, “hit shal not be so, for but if 532 you pay now, I shal horde thi wif to wed,533 tyll tyme that I be paled fully my salary.” And he seid that for he desired the love of the lady. Tho the knyght profren his two childryn to wed, so that he myght have his wif; and the shipman seid, “Nay, such wordis beth534 vayn, for,” quod he, “or535 I wol have my mede, or els I wolle horde thi wif.” So the knyght lefte his wif with him, and kyst her with bitter teris; and toke the two childryn, scil. oon on his arme, and that othir in his nek, and so he yede forth to the turnement. Aftir, the maister of the shippe wolde have layn by the lady, but she denyed hit, and seid, that she had lever dey536 than consente therto. So within short tyme, the maister drew to a fer537 fond, and there he deied; and the lady beggid her brede fro core to core, and knew not in what fond her husbond was duellinge. The knyght was gon toward the paleis, and at the last he come by a depe water, that was impossible to be passid, but538 hit were in certein tyme, when hit was at the lowist. The knyght sette doun oo539 child, and bare the othir over the water; and aftir that he come ayen540 to fecche over the othir, but or541 he myght come to him, there come a lion, and bare him awey to the forest. The knyght pursued aftir, but he myght not come to the lion, and then he wept bitterly, and yede ayen over the water to the othir child, and or he were ycome, a bere had take the child, and ran therwith to the forest. When the knyght saw that, sore he wepte, and seid, “Alias! that ever I was bore, for now have I lost wif and childryn. O thou brid! thi song that was so swete is yturned in to grete sorowe, and hath ytake away myrth fro my hert.” Aftir this he turned toward the feste, and made him redy toward the turnement, and there he bare him so manly, and so doutely in the turnement and that twies or thries, that he wan the victory, and worship, and wynnyng of that day. For the emperour hily avauncid him, and made him maister of his oste,542 and commaundid that all shuld obey to him, and he encresid, and aros from day to day in honure and richesse. And he went aftirward in a certain day in the cite, [and] he found a precious stone, colourid with thre maner of colours, as in oo partie542 white, in an othir partie red, and in the thrid partie blak. Anon he went to a lapidary, that was expert in the vertue of stonys; and he seid, that the vertue of thilke544 stone was this, who so ever berith the stone upon him, his hevynesse545 shall turne in to joy; and if he be povere,546 he shal be made riche; and if he hath lost anything, he shall fynde hit ayen with grete joy. And when the knyght herd this, he was glad and blith, and thought in him self, “I am in grete hevynesse and poverte, for I have lost all that I had, and by this stone I shal recovere all ayen, whether hit be so or no, God wote!” Aftir, when he must go to bataile of the emperour he gadrid togidre547 all the oste, and among them he found two yong knyghtis, semely in harneis,548 and wele i-shape, the which he hired for to go with him yn bataill of the emperour. And when thei were in the bataill, there was not oon in all the batail that did so doutely,549 as did tho550 two knyghtis that he hired; and therof this knyght, maister of the ost, was hily gladid. When the bataill was y-do,551 tines two yong knyghtes yede to her oste552 in the cite; and as they sat to-gidir, the elder seid to the yonger, “Dere freed, hit is long sithen553 that we were felawys,554 and we have grete grace of God,for in everybatailwe have the victory; and therfore I pray you, telle me of what contre ye were ybore, and in what nacion? For I askid never this of the or now; and if thou wilt telle me soth,555 I shall telle my kynrede and where I was borne.” And when oo felawe spak thus to the othir, a faire lady was loggid556 in the same ostry;557 and when she herd the elder knyght speke, she herkened to him; but she knew neither of hem,558 and yit she was modir of both, and wyf of the maister of the oste,559 the which also the maister of the shippe withheld for ship hire, but ever God kept her fro synne. Then spake the yonger knyght, “Forsoth, good man, I note560 who was my fader or who was my modir, ne561 in what stede562 I was borne, but I have this wele in mynde that my fader was a knyght, and that he bare me over the water, and left my eldir brothir in the fond; and as he passid over ayen to fecche him, there come a lion, and toke me up but a man of the cite come with houndis, and when he saw him, he made him to leve me with his houndis.”563 “Now sothly,” quod that othir, “and in the same maner hit happid vith me. For I was the sone of a knyght, and had only a brothir; and my fader brought me and my brothir, and my modir, over the see toward the emperour; and for my fader had not to pay to the maister of the ship for the fraught, he left my modir to wed; and then my fader toke me with my yong brothir, and brought us on his teak, and in his armys, tyll that we come unto a water, and there left me in a side of the water, and bare over my yong brothir; and or my fader myght come to me ayene, to bare me over, ther come a bere, and bore me to wode;564 and the people that saw him, make grete cry, and for fere the bere let me falle, and so with thelke565 poeple I duellid x. yere, and ther I was y-norisshed.” When the modir herd tines wordis, she seid, “Withoute douse tines teen my sonys,” and ran to hem anon, and fil upon her566 nekkes, and wepte sore for joy, and seid, “Al dere sonys, I am your modir, that your fader left with the maister of the shippe; and I know wele by your wordis and signes that ye teeth true brethern. But how it is with your fader that I know not, but God, that all seth,567 yeve568 me grace to fynd my husbond.” And alle that nyght tines thre were in gladnes. On the morow the modir rose up, and the childryn, scil. the knyghtis, folowid; and as thei yede, the maister of the oste mette with hem in the strete and though he were her fader, he knew hem not, but569 as thei had manli fought the day afore; and therfor he salued hem honurably, and askid of hem what feir lady that was, that come with hem? Anon as his lady herd his voys, and perceyved a certeyn signe in his frount,570 she knew fully therby that it was her husbond; and therfore she ran to him, and crypt him and kyst him, and for joy fille doun to the erth, as she had be deaf. So aftir this passion, she was reised up; and then the maister seid to her, “Telle me, feir woman, whi thou clippest me, and kyssist me so?” She seid, “I am thi wif, that thou leftist with the maister of the ship; and tines two knyghtis bene your sonys. Loke wele on my front, and see.” Then the knyght byheld her were, with a good avisement,571 and knew wele by diverse tokyns that she was his wif; and anon kyst her, and the sonys eke; and blessid hiely God, that so had visited hem. Tho went he ayen to his fond, with his wif, and with his children, and endid faire his lif.
From the legend of St. Eustache the romances of Sir Isumbras, Octavian, Sir Eglamour of Artois, and Sir Torrent of Portugal are derived. In the last, while the hero is absent aiding the king of Norway with his sword, his wife Desonelle is delivered of twins, and her father, King Calamond, out of his hatred of her, causes her and the babes to be put to sea in a boat; but a favourable wind saves them from destruction, and drives the boat upon the coast of Palestine. As she is wandering aimlessly along the shore, a huge griffin appears and seizes one of her children, and immediately after a leopard drags away the other. With submission she suffers her miserable fate, relying on the help of the Holy Virgin. The king of Jerusalem, just returning from a voyage, happened to find the leopard with the child, which he ordered to be saved and delivered to him. Seeing from the foundling’s golden ring that the child was of noble descent, and pitying its helpless state, he took it into his palace, and brought him up as if he were his own son, at his court. The dragon with the other child was seen by a pious hermit, St. Antony, who, though son of the king of Greece, had in his youth forsaken the world. Through his prayer St. Mary made the dragon put down the infant. Antony carried him to his father, who adopted him and ordered him to be baptised. Desonelle wandered up and down, after the loss of her children, till she happened to meet the king of Nazareth hunting. He, recognising her as the king of Portugal’s daughter, gave her a kind welcome and assistance, and at his court she lived several years in happy retirement. Ultimately she is re-united to her husband and her two sons, when they have become famous knights.
The following is an epitome of “Sir Isumbras,” from Ellis’s “Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances” (Bohr’s ed. p. 479 ff.):
There was once a knight, who, from his earliest infancy, appeared to be the peculiar favourite of Fortune. His birth was noble; his person equally remarkable for strength and beauty, his possessions so extensive as to furnish the amusements of hawking and hunting in the highest perfection. Though he had found no opportunity of signalising his courage in war, he had borne away the prize at numberless tournaments; his courtesy was the theme of general praise; his hall was the seat of unceasing plenty; it was crowded with minstrels, whom he entertained with princely liberality, and the possession of a beautiful wife and three lovely children completed the sum of earthly happiness.
Sir Isumbras had many virtues, but he had one vice. In the pride of his heart he forgot the Giver of all good things, and considered the blessings so abundantly showered upon him as the proper and just reward of his distinguished merit. Instances of this overweening presumption might perhaps be found in all ages among the possessors of wealth and power; but few sinners have the good fortune to be recalled, like Sir Isumbras, by a severe but salutary punishment, to the pious sentiments of Christian humility.
It was usual with knights to amuse themselves with hawking or hunting whenever they were not occupied by some more serious business; and, as business seldom intervened, they thus amused themselves every day in the year. One morning, being mounted on his favourite steed, surrounded by his dogs, and with a hawk on his wrist, Sir Isumbras cast his eyes on the sky, and discovered an angel, who, hovering over him, reproached him with his pride, and announced the punishment of instant and complete degradation. The terrified knight immediately fell on his knees; acknowledged the justice of his sentence; returned thanks to Heaven for deigning to visit him with adversity while the possession of youth and health enabled him to endure it; and, filled with contrition, prepared to return from the forest. But scarcely had the angel disappeared when his good steed suddenly fell dead under him, the hawk dropped from his wrist; his hounds wasted and expired; and, being thus left alone, he hastened on foot towards his palace, filled with melancholy forebodings, but impatient to learn the whole extent of his misfortune.
He was presently met by a part of his household, who, with many tears, informed him that his horses and oxen had been suddenly struck dead with lightning, and that his capons were all stung to death with adders. He received the tidings with humble resignation, commanded his servants to abstain from murmurs against Providence, and passed on. He was next met by a page, who related that his castle was burned to the ground, that many of his servants had lost their lives, and that his wife and children had with great difficulty escaped from the flames. Sir Isumbras, rejoiced that Heaven had yet spared those who were most dear to him, bestowed upon the astonished page his purse of gold as a reward for the intelligence.
A doleful sight then gan he see;
His wife and children three
Out of the fire were fled:
There they sat, under a thorn,
Bare and naked as they were born,
Brought out of their bed.
A woful man then was he,
When he saw them all naked be,
The lady said, all so blive,
“For nothing, sir, be ye adrad.”
He did off his surcoat of pallade,572
And with it clad his wife.
His scarlet mantle then shore573 he;
Therein he closed his children three
That naked before him stood.
He then proposed to his wife that, as an expiation of their sins, they should at once under take a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; so, cutting with his knife a sign of the cross on his bare shoulder, he set off with the four companions of his misery resolving to beg his bread till they should arrive at the Holy Sepulchre. After passing through “seven lands,” supported by the scanty alms of the charitable, they arrived at length at a forest, where they wandered during three days without meeting a single habitation. Their food was reduced to the few berries which they were able to collect; and the children, unaccustomed to such hard fare began to sink under the accumulated difficulties of their journey. In this situation they were stopped by a wide and rapid though shallow river. Sir Isumbras, taking his eldest son in his arms, carried him over to the opposite bank and placing him under a bush of broom, directed him to dry his tears, and amuse himself by playing with the blossoms till his return with his brothers. But scarcely had he left the place when lion, starting from a neighbouring thicket, seized the child and bore him away into the recesses of the forest. The second son became, in like manner,- the prey of an enormous leopard, and the disconsolate mother, when carried over with her infant to the fatal spot, was with difficulty persuaded to survive the loss of her two elder children. Sir Isumbras, though he could not repress the tears extorted by this cruel calamity, exerted himself to console his wife and humbly confessing his sins, contented himself with praying that his present misery might be accepted by Heaven as a partial expiation.
Through forest they went days three,
Till they came to the Greekish sea;
They grette,574 and were full wo!
As they stood upon the land,
They saw a fleet sailand,575
Three hundred ships and mo.576
With top-casters set on-loft,
Richly then were they wrought,
With joy and mickle577 pride:
A heathen king was therein,
That Christendom came to win;
His power was full wide.
It was now seven days since the pilgrims had tasted bread or meat, the soudan’s 578 galley therefore, was no sooner moored to the beach than the hastened on board to beg for food The soudan, under the apprehension that they were spies, ordered them to be driven back on shore; but his attendants observed to him that these could not be common beggars that the robust limbs and tall stature of the husband proved him to be a knight in disguise, and that the delicate complexion of the wife, who was “bright as blossom on tree,” formed a striking contrast to the ragged apparel with which she was very imperfectly covered. They were now brought into the royal presence; and the soudan, addressing Sir Isumbras, immediately offered him as much treasure as he should require, on condition that he should renounce Christianity and consent to fight under the Saracen banners. The answer was a respectful but peremptory refusal, concluded by an earnest petition for a little food; but the soudan, having by this time turned his eyes from Sir Isumbras to the beautiful companion of his pilgrimage, paid no attention to his request.
The soudan beheld that lady there,
Him thought an angel that she were,
Comen a-down from heaven;
“Man! I will give thee gold and fee,
An thou that woman will sellen me,
More than thou can neven.579
I will give thee an hundred pound
Of pennies that been whole and round,
And rich robes seven:
She shall be queen of my land,
And all men bow unto her hand,
And none withstand her steven.”580
Sir Isumbras said, “Nay!
My wife I will nought sell away,
Though ye me for her sloo!581
I weddid her in Goddislay,
To hold her to mine ending day,
Both for weal and wo.”
It evidently would require no small share of casuistry to construe this declaration into an acceptance of the bargain, but the Saracens, having heard the offer of their sovereign, deliberately counted out the stipulated sum on the mantle of Sir Isumbras; took possession of the lady, carried the knight with his infant son on shore; beat him till he was scarcely able to move, and then returned for further orders. During this operation, the soudan, with his own hand, placed the regal crown on the head of his intended bride; but recollecting that the original project of the voyage to Europe was to conquer it, which might possibly occasion a loss of some time, he delayed his intended nuptial, and ordered a fast-sailing vessel to convey her to his dominions, providing her at the same time with a charter addressed to his subjects, in which he enjoined them to obey her, from the moment of her landing, as their legitimate sovereign.
The lady, emboldened by these tokens of deference on the part of her new lord, now fell on her knees and entreated his permission to pass a few moments in private with her former husband, and the request was instantly granted by the complaisant Saracen. Sir Isumbras still smarting from his bruises, was conducted with great respect and ceremony to his wife, who, embracing him with tears, earnestly conjured him to seek her out as soon as possible in her new dominions, to slay his infidel rival, and to take possession of a throne which was probably reserved to him by Heaven as an indemnification for his past losses. She then supplied him with provisions for a fortnight; kissed him and her infant son; swooned three times, and then set sail for Africa.
Sir Isumbras, who had been set on shore quite confounded by this quick succession of strange adventures, followed the vessel with his eyes till it vanished from his sight, and then taking his son by the hand led him up to some rocky woodlands in the neighbourhood. Here they sat down under a tree, and after a short repast, which was moistened with their tears, resumed their journey. But they were again bewildered in forest, and, after gaining the summit of the mountain without being able to descry a single habitation, lay down on the bare ground and resigned themselves to sleep. The next morning Sir Isumbras found that his misfortunes were not yet terminated. He had carried his stock of provisions, together with his gold, the fatal present of the soudan, enveloped in a scarlet mantle; and scarcely had the sun darted its first rays on the earth when an eagle, attracted by the red cloth; swooped down upon the treasure and bore it off in his talons. Sir Isumbras, waking at the moment, perceived the theft, and for some time hastily pursued the flight of the bird, who, he expected, would speedily drop the heavy and useless burthen but he was disappointed; for the eagle, constantly towering as he approached the sea, at length directed his flight towards the opposite shore of Africa. Sir Isumbras slowly returned to his child, whom he had no longer the means of feeding, but the wretched father only arrived in time to behold the boy snatched from him by a unicorn. The knight was now quite disheartened. But his last calamity was so evidently miraculous that even the grief of the father was nearly absorbed by the contrition of the sinner. He fell on his knees and uttered a most fervent prayer to Jesus and the Virgin, and then proceeded on his journey.
His attention was soon attracted by the sound of a smith’s bellows: he quickly repaired to the forge and requested the charitable donation of a little food, but was told by the labourers that he seemed as well able to work as they did, and they had nothing to throw away in charity.
Then answered the knight again,
“For meat would I swink582 fain.”
Fast he bare and drow,583
They given him meat and drink anon.
And taughten him to bear stone:
Then had he shame now.
This servitude lasted a twelvemonth, and seven years expired before he had fully attained all the mysteries of his new profession. He employed his few leisure hours in fabricating a complete suit of armour: every year had brought him an account of the progress of the Saracens; and he could not help entertaining a hope that his arm, though so ignobly employed, was destined at some future day to revenge the wrongs of the Christians, as well as the injury which he had personally received from the unbelievers.
At length he heard that the Christian army had again taken the field, that the day was fixed for a great and final effort; and that a plain at an inconsiderable distance from his shop was appointed for the scene of action. Sir Isumbras rose before day, buckled on his armour, and mounting a horse which had hitherto been employed in carrying coals, proceeded to the field and took a careful view of the disposition of both armies. When the trumpets gave the signal to charge, he dismounted, fell on his knees, and after a short but fervent prayer to Heaven, again sprang into his saddle and rode into the thickest ranks of the enemy. His uncouth war-horse and awkward armour had scarcely less effect than his wonderful address and courage in attracting the attention of both parties; and when after three desperate charges, his sorry steed was slain under him, one of the Christian chiefs make a powerful effort for his rescue, bore him to a neighbouring eminence, and presented to him a more suitable coat of armour, and a horse more worthy of the heroic rider.
When he was armed on that stead
It is seen where his horse yede,584
And shall be evermore.
As sparkle glides off the glede,585
In that stour he made many bleed,
And wrought hem wonder sore.
He rode up into the mountain,
The soudan soon hath he slain,
And many that with him were.
All that day lasted the fight;
Sir Isumbras, that noble knight,
Wan the battle there.
Knights and squires have him sought,
And before the king him brought;
Full sore wounded was he.
They asked what was his name;
He said, “Sire, a smith’s man;
What will ye do with me?”
The Christian king said, than,
“I trow never smith’s man
In war was half so wight.”
“I bid586 you, give me meat and drink
And what that I will after think,
Till I have kevered587 my might.”
The king a great oath sware,
As soon as he whole were,
That he would dub him knight.
In a nunnery they him leaved,
To heal the wound in his heved,588
That he took in that fight.
The nuns of him were full fain,
For he had the soudan slain,
And many heathen hounds;
For his sorrow they gan sore rue;
Every day they salved him new,
And stopped well his wounds.
We may fairly presume, without derogating from the merit of the holy sisters or from the virtue of their salves and bandages, that the knight’s recovery was no less accelerated by the pleasure of having chastised the insolent possessor of his wife and the author of his contumelious beating. In a few days his health was restored; and having provided himself with a “scrip and pike” and the other accoutrements of a palmer, he took his leave of the nuns, directed his steps once more to the “Greekish Sea,” and, embarking on board of a vessel which he found ready to sail, speedily arrived at the port of Acre.
During seven years, which were employed in visiting every part of the Holy Land, the penitent Sir Isumbras led a life of continued labour and mortification: fed during the day by the precarious contributions of the charitable, and sleeping at night in the open air, without any addition to the scanty covering which his pilgrim’s weeds, after seven years service, were able to afford. At length his patience and contrition were rewarded. After a day spent in fruitless applications for a little food,
Beside the burgh of Jerusalem
He set him down by a well-stream,
Sore wepand589 for his sin.
And as he sat, about midnight,
There came an angel fair and bright,
And brought him bread and wine;
He said, “Palmer, well thou be!
The King of Heaven greeteth well thee;
Forgiven is sin thine.”
Sir Isumbras accepted with pious gratitude the donation of food, by which his strength was instantly restored, and again set out on his travels; but he was still a widower, still deprived of his children, and as poor as ever; nor had his heavenly monitor afforded him any hint for his future guidance. He wandered therefore through the country, without any settled purpose, till he arrived at a “rich burgh,” built round a “fair castle,” the possessor of which, he was told, was a charitable queen, who daily distributed a florin of gold to every poor man who approached her gates, and even condescended to provide food and lodging within her palace for such as were distinguished by superior misery. Sir Isumbras presented himself with the rest; and his emaciated form and squalid garments procured him instant admittance.
The rich queen in hall was set;
Knights her served, at hand and feet,
In rich robes of pall:
In the floor a cloth was laid;
“The poor palmer,” the steward said,
“Shall sit above you all.”
Meat and drink forth they brought;
He sat still, and ate right nought,
But looked about the hall.
So mickle he saw of game and glee
(Swiche mirthis he was wont to see)
The tears he let down fall.
Conduct so unusual attracted the attention of the whole company, and even of the queen, who, ordering “a chair with a cushion” to be placed near the palmer, took her seat in it, entered into conversation with him on the subject of his long and painful pilgrimage and was much edified by the moral lessons which he interspersed in his narrative. But no importunity could induce him to taste food: he was sick at heart, and required the aid of solitary meditation to overcome the painful recollections which continually assailed him The queen was more and more astonished, but at length left him to his reflections, after declaring that, “for her lord’s soul, or for his love, if he were still alive,” she was determined to retain the holy palmer in her palace, and to assign him a convenient apartment, together with a servant to attend him.
An interval of fifteen years, passed in the laborious occupations of blacksmith and pilgrim, may be supposed to have produced a very considerable alteration in the appearance of Sir Isumbras; and even his voice, subdued by disease and penance, may have failed to discover the gallant knight under the disguise which he had so long assumed. But that his wife (for such she was) should have been equally altered by the sole operation of time that the air and gestures and action of a person once so dear and so familiar to him should have awakened no trace of recollection in the mind of a husband, though in the midst of scenes which painfully recalled the memory of his former splendour, is more extraordinary. Be this as it may, the knight and the queen, though lodged under the same roof and passing much of their time together, continued to bewail the miseries of their protracted widowhood. Sir Isumbras, however, speedily recovered, in the plentiful court of the rich queen, his health and strength, and with these the desire of returning to his former exercises. A tournament was proclaimed; and the lists, which were formed immediately under the widows of the castle, were quickly occupied by a number of Saracen knights, all of whom Sir Isumbras successively overthrew. So dreadful was the stroke of his spear, that many were killed at the first encounter; some escaped with a few broken bones; others were thrown headlong into the castle ditch, but the greater number consulted their safety by a timely flight; while the queen contemplated with pleasure and astonishment the unparalleled exploits of her favourite palmer.
Then fell it, upon a day,
The Knight went him for to play,
As it was ere his kind;
A fowl’s nest he found on high;
A red cloth therein he seygh590
Wavand591 in the wind.
To the nest he gan win;592
His own mantle he found therein;
The gold there gan he find.
The painful recollection awakened by this discovery weighed heavily on the soul of Sir Isumbras. He bore the fatal treasure to his chamber, concealed it under his bed, and spent the remainder of the day in tears and lamentations. The images of his lost wife and children now began to haunt him continually; and his altered demeanour attracted the attention and excited the curiosity of the whole court, and even of the queen, who could only learn from the palmer’s attendant that his melancholy seemed to originate in the discovery of something in a bird’s nest. With this strange report she was compelled to be satisfied, till Sir Isumbras, with the hope of dissipating his grief, began to resume his usual exercises in the field, but no sooner had he quitted his chamber than the “squires” by her command broke open the door, discovered the treasure, and hastened with it to the royal apartment. The sight of the gold and the scarlet mantle immediately explained to the queen the whole mystery of the palmer’s behaviour. She burst into tears; kissed with fervent devotion the memorial of her lost husband; fell into a swoon; and on her recovery told the story to her attendants, and enjoined them to go in quest of the palmer, and to bring him at once before her. A short explanation removed her few remaining doubts; she threw herself into the arms of her husband, and the reunion of this long separated couple was immediately followed by the coronation of Sir Isumbras and by a protracted series of festivities.
The Saracen subjects of the Christian sovereign continued, with unshaken loyalty, to partake of the plentiful entertainments provided for all ranks of people on this solemn occasion, but no sooner had the pious Sir Isumbras signified to them the necessity of their immediate conversion, than his whole “parliament” adopted the resolution of deposing and committing to the flames their newly acquired sovereign, as soon as they should have obtained the concurrence of the neighbouring princes. Two of these readily joined their forces for the accomplishment of this salutary purpose, and invading the territories of Sir Isumbras with an army of thirty thousand men, sent him, according to usual custom, a solemn defiance. Sir Isumbras boldly answered the defiance, issued the necessary orders, called for his arms, sprang upon his horse, and prepared to march out against the enemy; when he discovered that his subjects had, to a man, abandoned him, and that he must encounter singly the whole host of the invaders.
Sir Isumbras was bold and keen,
And took his leave at the queen,
And sighed wonder sore:
He said, “Madam, have good day!
Sickerly, as you I say,
For now and evermore!”
“Help me, sir, that I were dight
In arms, as it were a knight;
I will with you fare:
Gif God would us grace send,
That we may together end,
Then done were all my care.”
Soon was the lady dight
In arms, as it were a knight;
He gave her spear and shield:
Again593 thirty thousand Saracens and mo.594
There came no more but they two,
When they met in field.
Never, probably, did a contest take place between such disproportioned forces. Sir Isumbras was rather encumbered than assisted by the presence of his beautiful but feeble helpmate; and the faithful couple were upon the point of being crushed by the charge of the enemy, when three unknown knights suddenly made their appearance, and as suddenly turned the fortune of the day. The first of these was mounted on a lion, the second on a leopard, and the third on a unicorn. The Saracen cavalry, at the first sight of these unexpected antagonists, dispersed in all directions. But flight and resistance were equally hopeless: three and twenty thousand unbelievers were soon laid lifeless on the plain by the talons of the lion and leopard and by the resistless horn of the unicorn, or by the swords of their young and intrepid riders; and the small remnant of the Saracen army who escaped from the general carnage quickly spread, through every corner of the Mohammedan world the news of this signal and truly miraculous victory.
Sir Isumbras, who does not seem to have possessed the talent for unravelling mysteries, had never suspected that his three wonderful auxiliaries were his own children whom Providence had sent to his assistance at the moment of his greatest distress, but he was not the less thankful when informed of the happy termination of all his calamities. The royal family were received in the city with every demonstration of joy by his penitent subjects whose loyalty had been completely revived by the recent miracle. Magnificent entertainments were provided; after which Sir Isumbras, having easily overrun the territories of his two pagan neighbours, who had been slain in the last battle, proceeded to conquer a third kingdom for his youngest son; and the four monarchs, uniting their efforts for the propagation of the true faith, enjoyed the happiness of witnessing the baptism of all the inhabitants of their respective dominions.
They lived and died in good intent;
Unto heaven their souls went,
When that they dead were.
Jesu Christ, heaven’s king,
Give us, aye, his blessing,
And shield us from care!
On comparing these several versions it will be seen that, while they differ one from another in some of the details, yet the fundamental outline is identical, with the single exception of the Tibetan story, which, in common with Tibetan tales generally, has departed very considerably from the original. A king, or knight, is suddenly deprived of all his possessions, and with his wife and two children becomes a wanderer on the face of the earth; his wife is forcibly taken from him; he afterwards loses his two sons, he is once more raised to affluence; his sons, having been adopted and educated by a charitable person, enter his service, their mother recognises them through overhearing their conversation; finally husband and wife and children are happily re-united. Such is the general outline of the story, though modifications have been made in the details of the different versions — probably through its being transmitted orally in some instances. Thus in the Arabian story, the king is ruined apparently in consequence of no fault of his own; in the Panjábí version, he relinquishes his wealth to a fakír as a pious action; in the Kashmírí and in the romance of Sir Isumbras, the hero loses his wealth as a punishment for his overweening ride, in the legend of St. Eustache, as in the story of Job, the calamities which overtake the Christian convert are designed by Heaven as a trial of his patience and fortitude; while even in the corrupted Tibetan story the ruin of the monarch is reflected in the destruction of the parents of the heroine by a hurricane. In both the Kashmírí and the Panjábí versions, the father is swallowed by a fish (or an alligator) in re-crossing the river to fetch his second child, in the Tibetan story the wife loses her husband, who is killed by a snake, and having taken one of her children over the river, she is returning for the other when, looking back, she discovers her babe in the jaws of a wolf: both her children perish: in the European versions they are carried off by wild beasts and rescued by strangers — the romance of Sir Isumbras is singular in representing the number of children to be three. Only in the Arabian story do we find the father carrying his wife and children in safety across the stream, and the latter afterwards lost in the forest. The Kashmírí and Gesta versions correspond exactly in representing the shipman as seizing the lady because her husband could not pay the passage-money: in the Arabian she is entrapped in the ship, owned by a Magian, on the pretext that there is on board a woman in labour; in Sir Isumbras she is forcibly “bought” by the Soudan. She is locked up in a chest by the Magian; sent to rule his country by the Soudan; respectfully treated by the merchant in the Kashmírí story, and, apparently, also by Kandan in the Panjábí legend; in the story of St. Eustache her persecutor dies and she is living in humble circumstances when discovered by her husband. — I think there is internal evidence, apart from the existence of the Tibetan version, to lead to the conclusion that the story is of Buddhist extraction, and if such be the fact, it furnishes a further example of the indebtedness of Christian hagiology to Buddhist tales and legends.
512 I have considerably abridged Mr. Knowles’ story in several places.
513 A species of demon.
514 This is one of the innumerable parallels to the story of Jonah in the “whale’s “ belly which occur in Asiatic fictions. See, for some instances, Tawney’s translation of the “Kathá Sarit Ságara,” ch. xxxv. and [xxiv.; “Indian Antiquary,” Sept. 1885, Legend of Ahlá; Miss Stokes’ “Indian Fairy Tales,” pp. 75, 76, and Steel and Temple’s “Wide-Awake Stories from the Panjáb and Kashmír,” p. 411. In Lucian’s “Vera Historia,” a monster fish swallows a ship and her crew, who live a long time in the extensive regions comprised in its internal economy. See also Herrtage’s “Gesta Romanorum” (Early English Text Society), p. 297.
515 In the Arabian version the people resolve to leave the choice of a new king to the royal elephant because they could not agree among themselves (vol. i., p. 224), but in Indian fictions such an incident frequently occurs as a regular custom. In the “Sivandhi Sthala Purana,” a legendary account of the famous temple at Trichinopoli, as supposed to be told by Gautama to Matanga and other sages, it is related that a certain king having mortally offended a holy devotee, his capital and all its inhabitants were, in consequence of a curse pronounced by the enraged saint, buried beneath a shower of dust. “Only the queen escaped, and in her flight she was delivered of a male-child. After some time. the chiefs of the Chola kingdom, proceeding to elect a king, determined, by the advice of the saint to crown whomsoever the late monarch’s elephant should pitch upon. Being turned loose for this purpose, the elephant discovered and brought to Trisira-málí the child of his former master, who accordingly became the Chola king.” (Wilson’s Desc. Catal. of Mackenzie MSS., i. 17.) In a Manipurí story of two brothers, Turi and Basanta —“Indian Antiquary,” vol. iii. — the elder is chosen king in like manner by an elephant who meets him in the forest, and takes him on his back to the palace, where he is immediately placed on the throne See also “Wide-Awake Stories Tom the Panjáb and Kashmír,” by Mrs. Steel and Captain Temple, p. 141; and Rev. Lal Behari Day’s “Folk-Tales of Bengal,” p. 100 for similar instances. The hawk taking part, in this story, with the elephant in the selection of a king does not occur in any other tale known to me.
516 So that their caste might not be injured. A dhobí, or washerman, is of much lower caste than a Bráhman or a Khshatriya.
517 A responsible position in a rájá’s palace.
518 “And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.” Rájá Ambá must have been fully twelve years in the stomach of the alligator.
519 This device of the mother to obtain speech of the king is much more natural than that adopted in the Kashmiri version.
520 The story of Abú Sábir (see vol. i. p. 58 ff.) may also be regarded as an analogue. He is unjustly deprived of all his possessions, and, with his wife and two young boys, driven forth of his village. The children are borne off by thieves, and their mother forcibly carried away by a horseman. Abú Sábir, after many sufferings, is raised from a dungeon to a throne. He regains his two children and his wife, who had steadfastly refused to cohabit with her captor.
521 Introduction to the romance of “Torrent of Portingale,” re-edited (for the Early English Text Society, 1886) by E. Adam, Ph.D., pp. xxi. xxii.
522 Morning.
523 Bird.
524 Mean; betoken.
525 Thee.
526 Tho: then.
527 Yede: went.
528 Case.
529 Avaunced: advanced; promoted.
530 Holpen: helped.
531 Brent: burnt.
532 But if: unless.
533 To wed: in pledge, in security.
534 Beth: are.
535 Or: either.
536 Lever dey: rather die.
537 Far, distant.
538 Unless.
539 Oo: one.
540 Ayen: again.
541 Or: ere, before.
542 Army; host.
543 Part.
544 That.
545 Grief, sorrow.
546 Poor.
547 Gathered, or collected, together.
548 Arms; accoutrements; dress.
549 Bravely.
550 Those.
551 Done, ended.
552 Their lodgings, inn.
553 Since.
554 Comrades.
555 Truly.
556 Lodged.
557 Inn.
558 Hem: them.
559 Chief of the army.
560 I note: I know not.
561 Nor.
562 Place.
563 That is by means of his hounds.
564 A wood.
565 Those.
566 Her: their.
567 Looks towards; attends to.
568 Give.
569 Excepting, unless.
570 Face, countenance.
571 Care, close examination.
572 Pallata, Lat. (Paletot, O. Fr. ), sometimes signifying a particular stuff, and sometimes a particular dress. See Du Cange.
573 Cut; divided
574 Wept.
575 Sailing.
576 More.
577 Much.
578 Sultan.
579 Name.
580 Voice, i.e., command.
581 Slew.
582 Labour.
583 Drew.
584 Went.
585 Burning coal.
586 Pray; beg.
587 Recovered.
588 Head.
589 Weeping.
590 Saw.
591 Waving.
592 Began to climb.
593 Against.
594 More.
We must, I think, regard this group of tales as being genuine narratives of the exploits of Egyptian sharpers. From the days of Herodotus to the present time, Egypt has bred the most expert thieves in the world. The policemen don’t generally exhibit much ability for coping with the sharpers whose tricks they so well recount; but indeed our home-grown “bobbies” are not particularly quick-witted.
A parallel to the woman’s trick of shaving off the beards and blackening the faces of the robbers is found in the well-known legend, as told by Herodotus (Euterpe, 121), of the robbery of the treasure-house of Rhampsinitus king of Egypt, where the clever thief, having made the soldiers dead drunk, shaves off the right side of their beards and then decamps with his brother’s headless body.
The narrow escape of the singing-girl hidden under a pile of halfah grass may be compared with an adventure of a fugitive Mexican prince whose history, as related by Prescott, is as full of romantic daring and hair’s breadth ‘scapes as that of Scanderbeg or the “Young Chevader.” This prince had just time to turn the crest of a hill as his enemies were climbing it on the other side, when he fell in with a girl who was reaping chian, a Mexican plant, the seed of which is much used in the drinks of the country. He persuaded her to cover him with the stalks she had been cutting. When his pursuers came up and inquired if she had seen the fugitive, the girl coolly answered that she had, and pointed out a path as the one he had taken.
The concluding part of this story differs very materially from that of the Greek legend of Ibycus (fl. B.C. 540), which is thus related in a small MS. collection of Arabian and Persian anecdotes in my possession, done into English from the French:
It is written in the history of the first kings that in the reign of a Grecian king there lived a philosopher named Ibycus, who surpassed in sagacity all other sages of Greece. Ibycus was once sent by the king to a neighbouring court. On the way he was attacked by robbers who, suspecting him to have much money, formed the design of killing him “Your object in taking my life,” said Ibycus, “is to obtain my money; I give it up to you, but allow me to live.” The robbers paid no attention to his words, and persisted in their purpose. The wretched Ibycus, in his despair, looked about him to see if any one was coming to his as assistance, but no person was in sight. At that very moment a flock of cranes flew overhead. “O cranes!” cried Ibycus, “know that I have been seized in this desert by these wicked men, and I die from their blows. Avenge me, and demand from them my blood.” At these words the robbers burst into laughter: “To take away life from those who have lost their reason,” they observed, “is to add nothing to their hurt.” So saying, they killed Ibycus and divided his money. On receipt of the news that Ibycus had been murdered, the inhabitants of the town were exasperated and felt great sorrow. They caused strict inquiries to be made for the murderers, but they could not be found. After some time the Greeks were celebrating a feast. The inhabitants of the adjoining districts came in crowds to the temples. The murderers of Ibycus also came, and everywhere showed themselves. Meanwhile a flock of cranes appeared in the air and hovered above the people, uttering cries so loud and prolonged that the prayers and ceremonies were interrupted. One of the robbers looked with a smile at his comrades, saying, by way of joke, “These cranes come without doubt to avenge the blood of Ibycus.” Some one of the town, who was near them, heard these words, repeated them to his neighbour, and they together reported them to the king The robbers were taken, strictly cross-examined, confessed their crime, and suffered for it a just punishment. In this way the cranes inflicted vengeance on the murderers of Ibycus. But we ought to see in this incident a matter which is concealed in it: This philosopher although apparently addressing his words to the cranes, was really imploring help from their Creator; he hoped, in asking their aid, that He would not suffer his blood to flow unavenged. So God accomplished his hopes, and willed that cranes should be the cause that his death was avenged in order that the sages of the world should learn from it the power and wisdom of the Creator.
This ancient legend was probably introduced into Arabian literature in the 9th century when translations of so many of the best Greek works were made, and, no doubt, it was adapted in the following Indian (Muslim) story:595
There was a certain pir, or saint, of great wisdom, learning, and sanctity, who sat by the wayside expounding the Kurán to all who would listen to him. He dwelt in the out-buildings of a ruined mosque close by, his only companion being a maina, or hill-starling, which he had taught to proclaim the excellence of the formula of his religion, saying, “The Prophet is just!” It chanced that two travellers passing that way beheld the holy man at his devotions, and though far from being religious persons yet tarried a while to hear the words of truth. Evening now drawing on, the saint invited his apparently pious auditors to his dwelling, and set before them such coarse food as he had to offer. Having eaten and refreshed themselves, they were astonished at the wisdom displayed by the bird, who continued to repeat holy texts from the Kurán. The meal ended, they all lay down to sleep, and while the good man reposed, his treacherous guests, who envied him the possession a bird that in their hands might be the means of enriching them, determined to steal the treasure and murder its master. So they stabbed the sleeping devotee to the heart and then seized hold of the bird’s cage. But, unperceived by them, the door of it had been left open and the bird was not to be found. After searching for the bird in vain, they considered it necessary to dispose of the body, since, if discovered, suspicion would assuredly fall upon them, and carrying it away to what they deemed a safe distance they buried it. Vexed to be obliged to leave the place without obtaining the reward of their evil deeds, they again looked carefully for the bird, but without success; it was nowhere to be seen, and so they were compelled to go forward without the object of their search. The maina had witnessed the atrocious deed, and unseen had followed the murderers to the place were they had buried the body, it then perched upon the tree beneath which the saint had been wont to enlighten the minds of his followers, and when they assembled flew into their midst, exclaiming, “The Prophet is just!” making short flights and then returning. These unusual motions, together with the absence of their preceptor, induced the people to follow it and directing its flight to the grave of its master, it uttered a mournful cry over the newly-covered grave. The villagers, astonished, began to remove the earth, and soon discovered the bloody corse. Surprised and horror-stricken, they looked about for some traces of the murderers, and perceiving that the bird had resumed the movements which had first induced them to follow it, they suffered it to lead them forward. Before evening fell, the avengers came up with two men, who no sooner heard the maina exclaim, “The Prophet is just’” and saw the crowd that accompanied it, than they fell upon their knees, confessing that the Prophet had indeed brought their evil deeds to light; so, their crime being thus made manifest, summary justice was inflicted upon them.
595 From an early volume of the “Asiatic Journal,” the number of which I did not “make a note of — thus, for once at least, disregarding the advice of the immortal Captain Cuttle.
An entertaining story, but very inconsistent in the character of Iblis, who is constantly termed, in good Muslim fashion, “the accursed,” yet seems to be somewhat of a follower of the Prophet, and on the whole a good-natured sort of fellow. His mode of expressing his approval of the damsel’s musical “talent” is, to say the least, original.
A variant — perhaps an older form — of this story occurs in the tale of Prince Fadlallah, which is interwoven with the History of Prince Calaf and the Princess of China, in the Persian tales of “The Thousand and One Days”:
The prince, on his way to Baghdad, is attacked by robbers, his followers are all slain, and himself made prisoner, but he is set at liberty by the compassionate wife of the robber-chief during his absence on a plundering expedition. When he reaches Baghdad he has no resource but to beg his bread, and having stationed himself in front of a large mansion, an old female slave presently comes out and gives him a loaf. At this moment a gust of wind blew aside the curtain of a window and discovered to his admiring eyes a most beautiful damsel, of whom he became immediately enamoured. He inquired of a passerby the name of the owner of the mansion, and was informed that it belonged to a man called Mouaffac, who had been lately governor of the city, but having quarrelled with the kází, who was of a revengeful disposition, the latter had found means to disgrace him with the khalíf and to have him deprived of his office. After lingering near the house in vain till nightfall, in hopes of once more obtaining a glimpse of this beauty, he retired for the night to a burying-ground, where he was soon joined by two thieves, who pressed upon him a share of the good cheer with which they had provided themselves, but while the thieves were feasting and talking over a robbery which they had just accomplished, the police suddenly pounced upon them, and took all three and cast them into prison.
In the morning they were examined by the kází, and the thieves, seeing it was useless to deny it, confessed their crime. The prince then told the kází how he chanced to fall into company of the thieves, who confirmed all he said, and he was set at liberty. Then the kází began to question him as to how he had employed his time since he came to Baghdád, to which he answered very frankly but concealed his rank. On his mentioning the brief glance he had of the beautiful lady at the window of the ex-governor’s house, the kází‘s eyes sparkled with apparent satifaction, and he assured the prince that he should have the lady for his bride; for, believing the prince to be a mere beggarly adventurer, he resolved to foist him on Mouaffac as the son of a great monarch So, having sent the prince to the bath and provided him with rich garments, the kází dispatched a messenger to request Mouaffac to come to him on important business. When the ex-governor arrived, the kází told him blandly that there was now an excellent opportunity for doing away the ill will that had so long existed between them. “It is this,” continued he: “the prince of Basra, having fallen in love with your daughter from report of her great beauty, has just come to Baghdád, unknown to his father, and intends to demand her of you in marriage. He is lodged in my house, and is most anxious that this affair should be arranged by my interposition, which is the more agreeable to me, since it will, I trust, be the means of reconciling our differences.” Mouaffac expressed his surprise that the prince of Basra should think of marrying his daughter, and especially that the proposal should come through the kází, of all men. The kází begged him to forget their former animosity and consent to the immediate celebration of the nuptials. While they were thus talking, the prince entered, in a magnificent dress, and was not a little astonished to be presented to Mouaffac by the treacherous kází as the prince of Basra, who had come as a suitor for his daughter in marriage. The ex-governor saluted him with every token of profound respect, and expressed his sense of the honour of such an alliance: his daughter was unworthy to wait upon the meanest of the prince’s slaves. In brief, the marriage is at once celebrated, and the prince duly retires to the bridal chamber with the beauteous daughter of Mouaffac. But in the morning, at an early hour, a servant of the kází knocks at his door, and, on the prince opening it, says that he brings him his rags of clothes and is required to take back the dress which the kází had lent him yesterday to personate the prince of Basra. The prince, having donned his tattered garments, said to his wife, “The kází thinks he has married you to a wretched beggar, but I am no whit inferior in rank to the prince of Basra — I am also a prince, being the only son of the king of Mosel,” and then proceeded to recount all his adventures. When he had concluded his recital, the lady despatched a servant to procure a suitable dress for the prince, which when he had put on, she said, “I see it all: the kází no doubt, believes that by this time we are all overwhelmed with shame and grief. But what must be his feelings when he learns that he has been a benefactor to his enemies! Before you disclose to him your real rank, however, we must contrive to punish him for his malicious intentions. There is a dyer in this town who has a frightfully ugly daughter — but leave this affair in my hands.”
The lady then dressed herself in plain but becoming apparel, and went out of the house alone. She proceeded to the court of the kází, who no sooner cast his eyes upon her than he was struck with her elegant form. He sent an officer to inquire of her who she was and what she had come about. She made answer that she was the daughter of an artisan in the city. and that she desired to have some private conversation with the kází. When the officer reported the lady’s reply, the kází directed her to be conducted into a private chamber, where he presently joined her, and gallantly placed his services at her disposal. The lady now removed her veil, and asked him whether he saw anything ugly or repulsive in her features. The kází on seeing her beautiful face was suddenly plunged in the sea of love, and declared that her forehead was of polished silver, her eyes were sparkling diamonds, her mouth a ruby casket containing a bracelet of pearls. Then she displayed her arms, so white and plump, the sight of which threw the kází into ecstasies and almost caused him to faint. Quoth the lady, “I must tell you, my lord, that with all the beauty I possess, my father, a dyer in the city, keeps me secluded, and declares to all who come to ask me in marriage that I am an ugly, deformed monster, a mere skeleton, lame, and full of diseases.” On this the kází burst into a tirade against the brutal father who could thus traduce so much beauty, and vowed that he would make her his wife that same day. The lady, after expressing her fears that he would not find it easy to gain her father’s consent, took her leave and returned home.
The kází lost no time in sending for the dyer, and, after complimenting him upon his reputation for piety, said to him, “I am informed that behind the curtain of chastity you have a daughter ripe for marriage. Is not this true?” Replied the dyer, “My lord, you have been rightly informed. I have a daughter who is indeed fully ripe for marriage, or she is more than thirty years of age, but the poor creature is not fit to be a wife to any man. She is very ugly, lame, leprous, and foolish. In short, she is such a monster that I am obliged to keep her out of all people’s sight.” “Ha!” exclaimed the kází, “you can’t impose on me with such a tale. I was prepared for it. But let me tell you that I myself am ready and willing to marry that same ugly and leprous daughter of yours, with all her defects.” When the dyer heard this, he looked the kází full in the face and said, “My lord, you are welcome to divert yourself by making a jest of my daughter.” No,” replied the kází “I am quite in earnest. I demand your daughter in marriage.” The dyer broke into laughter, saying, ‘By Allah, some one has meant to play you a trick, my lord. I forewarn you that she is ugly, lame, and leprous.” “True,” responded the kází, with a knowing smile; “I know her by these tokens. I shall take her notwithstanding.” The dyer, seeing him determined to marry his daughter, and being now convinced that he had been imposed upon by some ill-wisher, thought to himself, “I must demand of him a round sum of money which may cause him to cease troubling me any further about my poor daughter.” So he said to the kází, “My lord, I am ready to obey your command; but I will not part with my daughter unless you pay me beforehand a dowry of a thousand sequins.” Replied the kází, “Although, methinks, your demand is somewhat exorbitant, yet I will pay you the money at once.” which having done, he ordered the contract to be drawn up. But when it came to be signed the dyer declared that he would not sign save in the presence of a hundred men of the law. “Thou art very distrustful,” said the kází, “but I will comply in everything, for I am resolved to make sure of thy daughter.” So he sent for all the men of law in the city, and when they were assembled at the house of the kází, the dyer said that he was now willing to sign the contract; “But I declare,” he added, “in the presence of these honourable witnesses, that I do so on the condition that if my daughter should not prove to your liking when you have seen her, and you should determine to divorce her, you shall oblige yourself to give her a thousand sequins of gold in addition to the same amount which I have already received from you. “Agreed,” said the kází, “I oblige myself to it, and call this whole assembly to be witnesses. Art thou now satisfied?” “I am,” replied the dyer, who then went his way, saying that he would at once send him his bride.
As soon as the dyer was gone, the assembly broke up, and the kází was left a house. He had been two years married to the daughter of a merchant of Baghdád, whom he had hitherto lived on very amicable terms. When she heard that he was arranging for a second marriage, she came to him in a great rage. “How now,” said she, “two hands in one glove! two swords in one scabbard! two wives in one house! Go, fickle man! Since the caresses of a young and faithful wife cannot secure your constancy, I am ready to yield my place to my rival and retire to my own family. Repudiate me — return my dowry — and you shall never see me more.” “I am glad you have thus anticipated me,” answered the kází, “for I was somewhat perplexed how to acquaint you of my new marriage.” So saying, he opened a coffer and took out a purse of five hundred sequins of gold, and putting it into her hands, “There, woman,” said he, “thy dowry is in that purse: begone, and take with you what belongs to you. I divorce thee once; I divorce thee twice, three times I divorce thee. And that thy parents may be satisfied thou art divorced from me, I shall give thee a certificate signed by myself and my nayb.” This he did accordingly, and his wife went to her father’s house, with her bill of divorce and her dowry.
The kází then gave orders to furnish an apartment sumptuously for the reception of his bride. The floor was spread with velvet carpets, the walls were hung with rich tapestry, and couches of gold and silver brocade were placed around the room. The bridal chamber was decked with caskets filled with the most exquisite perfumes. When everything was in readiness, the kází impatiently expected the arrival of his bride, and at last was about to despatch a messenger to the dyer’s when a porter entered, carrying a wooden chest covered with a piece of green taffeta. “What hast thou brought me there, friend?” asked the kází. “My lord,” replied the porter, setting the chest on the floor, “I bring your bride.” The kází opened the chest, and discovered a woman of three feet and a half, defective in every limb and feature. He was horrified at the sight of this object, and throwing the covering hastily over it, demanded of the porter, “What wouldst thou have me do with this frightful creature?” “My lord,” said the porter, “this is the daughter of Omar the dyer, who told me that you had espoused her out of pure inclination.” “O Allah!” exclaimed the kází, “is it possible to marry such a monster as this?” Just then, the dyer, well knowing that the kází must be surprised, came in. “Thou wretch,” cried the kází, “how cost thou dare to trifle with me? In place of this hideous object, send hither your other daughter, whose beauty is beyond comparison; otherwise thou shalt soon know what it is to insult me.” Quoth the dyer, “My lord, I swear, by Him who out of darkness produced light, that I have no other daughter but this. I told you repeatedly that she was not for your purpose, but you would not believe my words. Who, then, is to blame?” Upon this the kází began to cool, and said so the dyer, “I must tell you, friend Omar, that this morning there came to me a most beautiful damsel, who pretended that you were her father, and that you represented her to everybody as a monster, on purpose to deter all suitors that came to ask her in marriage.” “My lord,” answered the dyer, “this beautiful damsel must be an impostor; some one, undoubtedly, owes you a grudge.” Then the kází, having reflected for a few minutes, said to the dyer, “Bid the porter carry thy daughter home again. Keep the thousand sequins of gold which I gave thee, but ask no more of me, if thou desirest that we should continue friends.” The dyer, knowing the implacable disposition of the kází, thought it advisable to content himself with what he had already gained, and the kází, having formally divorced his hideous bride, sent her away with her father. The affair soon got wind in the city and everybody was highly diverted with the trick practiced on the kází.
It will be observed that in the Arabian story there are two clever devices: that of the lady who tricks the boastful merchant, whose motto was that men’s craft is superior to women’s craft, into marrying the ugly daughter of the kází; and that of the merchant to get rid of his bad bargain by disgusting the kází with the alliance. The scene at the house of the worthy judge — the crowd of low rascals piping, drumming, and capering, and felicitating themselves on their pretended kinsman the merchant’s marriage — is highly humorous. This does not occur in the Persian story, because it is the kází, who has been duped into marrying the dyer’s deformed daughter, and she is therefore simply packed off again to her father’s house.
That the tales of the “Thousand and One Days” are not (as is supposed by the writer of an article on the several English versions of The Nights in the “Edinburgh Review” for July 1886, p. 167) mere imitations of Galland596 is most certain, apart from the statement in the preface to Petis’ French translation, which there is no reason to doubt — see vol. x. of The Nights, p. 166, note 1. Sir William Ouseley, in his Travels, vol. ii., p. 21, note, states that he brought from Persia a manuscript which comprised, inter alia, a portion of the “Hazár ú Yek Rúz,” or the Thousand and One Days, which agreed with Petis’ translation of the same stories. In the Persian collection entitled “Shamsa ú Kuhkuha” occur several of the tales and incidents, for example, the Story of Nasiraddoli King of Mousel, the Merchant of Baghdád, and the Fair Zeinib, while the Story of the King of Thibet and the Princess of the Naimans has its parallel in the Turkish “Kirk Vazír,” or Forty Vazírs. Again, the Story of Couloufe and the Beautiful Dilara reminds us of that of Haji the Cross-grained in Malcolm’s “Sketches of Persia.” But of the French translation not a single good word can be said — the Oriental “costume” and phraseology have almost entirely disappeared, and between Petis de la Croix and the author of “Gil Blas”— who is said to have had a hand in the work — the tales have become ludicrously Frenchified. The English translation made from the French is, if possible, still worse. We there meet with “persons of quality,” “persons of fashion,” with “seigneurs,” and a thousand and one other inconsistencies and absurdities. A new translation is much to be desired. The copy of the Persian text made by Petis is probably in the Paris Library and Ouseley’s fragment is doubtless among his other Oriental MSS. in the Bodleian. But one should suppose that copies of the “Hazár ú Yek Rúz” may be readily procured at Ispahán or Tehrán, and at a very moderate cost, since the Persians now-a-days are so poor in general that they are eager to exchange any books they possess for the “circulating medium.”
596 “It was no wonder,” says this writer, “that his (i.e. Galland’s ) version of the ‘Arabian Nights’ achieved a universal popularity, and was translated into many languages, and that it provoked a crowd of imitations, from ‘Les Mille et Un Jours’ to the ‘Tales of the Genii.’”
This is an excellent tale, the incidents occur naturally and the reader’s interest in the fortunes of the hero and heroine never flags. The damsel’s sojourn with the old Muezzin — her dispatching him daily to the shroff — bears some analogy to part of the tale of Ghanim the Slave of Love (vol. ii. of The Nights), which, by the way, finds close parallels in the Turkish “Forty Vazírs” (the Lady’s 18th story in Mr. Gibb’s translation), the Persian “Thousand and One Days” (story of Aboulcasem of Basra), and the “Bagh o Bahár” (story of the First Dervish). This tale is, in fact, a compound of incidents occurring in a number of different Arabian fictions.
Here we have another instance of a youth falling in love with the portrait of a pretty girl (see ante, p. 236). The doughty deeds performed by the young prince against thousands of his foes throw into the shade the exploits of the Bedouin hero Antar, and those of our own famous champions Sir Guy of Warwick and Sir Bevis of Hampton.
I find yet another variant of this story in my small MS. collection of Arabian and Persian anecdotes, translated from the French (I have not ascertained its source):
They relate that a lord of Basra, while walking one day in his garden, saw the wife of his gardener, who was very beautiful and virtuous. He gave a commission to his gardener which required him to leave his home. He then said to his wife “Go and shut all the doors.” She went out and soon returned, saying, “I have shut all the doors except one, which I am unable to shut.” The lord asked, “And where is that door?” She replied “That which is between you and the respect due to your Maker: there is no way of closing it.” When the lord heard these words, he asked the woman’s pardon, and became a better and a wiser man.
We have here a unique form of the wide-spread tale of “The Lion’s Track,” which, while it omits the husband’s part, yet reflects the virtuous wife’s rebuke of the enamoured sultan.
If Straparola’s version is to be considered as an adaptation of Ser Giovanni’s novella — which I do not think very probable — it must be allowed to be an improvement on his model. In the Arabian story the singer is first concealed in a mat, next in the oven, and again in the mat, after which he escapes by clambering over the parapet of the druggist’s roof to that of an adjoining house, and his subsequent adventures seem to be added from a different story. In Ser Giovanni’s version the lover is first hid beneath a heap of half dried clothes, and next behind the street door, from which he escapes the instant the husband enters, and the latter is treated as a madman by the wife’s relatives and the neighbours — an incident which has parallels in other tales of women’s craft and its prototype, perhaps, in the story of the man who compiled a book of the Wiles of Woman, as told in “Syntipas,” the Greek version of the Book of Sindibad. In Straparola the lover — as in the Arabian story — is concealed three times, first in a basket, then between two boardings, and lastly in a chest containing law papers; and the husband induces him to recount his adventures in presence of the lady’s friends, which having concluded, the lover declares the story to be wholly fictitious: this is a much more agreeable ending than that of Giovanni’s story, and, moreover, it bears a close analogy to the latter part of the Persian tale, where the lover exclaims he is right glad to find it all a dream. Straparola’s version has another point of resemblance in the Persian story — so far as can be judged from Scott’s abstract — and also in the Arabian story: the lover discovers the lady by chance, and is not advised to seek out some object of love, as in Giovanni; in the Arabian the singer is counselled by the druggist to go about and entertain wine parties. Story-comparers have too much cause to be dissatisfied with Jonathan Scott’s translation of the “Bahár-i- Dánish”— a work avowedly derived from Indian sources — although it is far superior to Dow’s garbled version. The abstracts of a number of the tales which Scott gives in an appendix, while of some use, are generally tantalising: some stories he has altogether omitted “because they are similar to tales already well known” (unfortunately the comparative study of popular fictions was hardly begun in his time), while of others bare outlines are furnished, because he considered them “unfit for general perusal.” But his work, even as it is, has probably never been “generally” read, and he seems to have had somewhat vague notions of “propriety,” to judge by his translations from the Arabic and Persian. A complete English rendering of the “Bahár-i-Dánish” would be welcomed by all interested in the history of fiction.
The trick played on the silly fuller of dressing him up as a Turkish soldier resembles that of the Three Deceitful Women who found a gold ring in the public bath, as related in the Persian story-book, “Shamsa ú Kuhkuha:”
When the wife of the superintendent of police was apprised that her turn had come, she revolved and meditated for some time what trick she was to play off on her lord, and after having come to a conclusion she said one evening to him, “To-morrow I wish that we should both enjoy ourselves at home without interruptions, and I mean to prepare some cakes.” He replied, “Very well, my dear; I have also longed for such an occasion.” The lady had a servant who was very obedient and always covered with the mantle of attachment to her. The next morning she called this youth and said to him, “I have long contemplated the hyacinth grove of thy symmetrical stature; and I know that thou travellest constancy and faithfully on the road of compliance with all my wishes, and that thou seekest to serve me. I have a little business which I wish thee to do for me.” The servant answered, “I shall be happy to comply. Then the lady gave him a thousand diners and said, “Go to the convent which is in our vicinity; give this money to one of the kalandars there and say to him, ‘A prisoner whom the Amír had surrendered to the police has escaped last night. He closely resembles thee, and as the superintendent of the police is unable to account to the Amír, he has sent a man to take thee instead of the escaped criminal. I have compassion for thee and mean to rescue thee. Take this sum of money; give me thy dress; and flee from the town; for if thou remainest in it till the morning thou wilt be subjected to torture and wilt lose thy life.’” The servant acted as he was bid, and brought the garments to his mistress. When it was morning she said to her husband, “I know you have long wished to eat sweetmeats, and I shall make some to-day.” He answered, “Very well.” His wife made all her preparations and commenced to bake the sweetmeats. He said to her, “Last night a theft was committed in a certain place, and I sat up late to extort confessions; and as I have spent a sleepless night, I feel tired and wish to repose a little.” The lady replied, “Very well.”
Accordingly the superintendent of the police reclined on the pillow of rest; and when the sweetmeat was ready his wife took a little and putting an opiate into it she handed it to him, saying, “How long will you sleep? To-day is a day of feasting and pleasure, not of sleep and laziness. Lift up your head and see whether I have made the sweets according to your taste.” He raised his head, swallowed a piece of the hot cake and lay down again. The morsel was still in his throat when consciousness left and a deep sleep overwhelmed him. His wife immediately undressed him and put on him the garments of the kalandar. The servant shaved his head and made some tattoo marks on his body. When the night set in the lady called her servant and said, “Hyacinth, be kind enough to take the superintendent on thy back, and carry him to the convent instead of that kalandar, and if he wishes to return to the house in the morning, do not let him.” The servant obeyed. Towards dawn the superintendent recovered his senses a little; but as the opiate had made his palate very bitter, he became extremely thirsty. He fancied that he was in his own house, and so he exclaimed, “Narcissus, bring water.” The kalandars awoke from sleep, and after hearing several shouts of this kind, they concluded that he was under the influence of bang, and said, “Poor fellow! the narcissus is in the garden; this is the convent of sufferers, and there are green garments enough here. Arise and sober thyself, for the morning and harbinger of benefits as well as of the acquisition of the victuals for subsistence is approaching.” When the superintendent heard these words he thought they were a dream, for he had not yet fully recovered his senses. He sat quietly, but was amazed on beholding the walls and ceiling of the convent: he got up, looked at the clothes in which he was dressed and at the marks tattooed on his body, and began to doubt whether he was awake or asleep. He washed his face, and perceived that the caravan of his mustachios had likewise departed from the plain of his countenance.
In this state of perplexity he went out of the convent and proceeded to his house. There his wife, with her male and female servants, was expecting his arrival. He approached the house and placed his hand on the knocker of the door, but was received by Hyacinth, who said, “Kalandar, whom seekest thou?” The superintendent rejoined, “I want to enter the house.” Hyacinth continued, “Thou hast to-day evidently taken thy morning draught of bang earlier and more copiously than usual, since thou hast foolishly mistaken the road to thy convent. Depart! This is not a place in which vagabond kalandars are harboured. This is the palace of the superintendent of the police. and if the symurgh looks with incivility from the fastness of the west of Mount Káf at this place, the wings of its impertinence will at once become singed.” The superintendent said, “What nonsense art thou speaking? Go out of my way, for I do not relish thy imbecile prattle.” But when he wanted to enter, Hyacinth struck him with a bludgeon on the shoulder, which the superintendent returned with a box on the ear, and both began to wrestle together. At that moment the lady and her maid-servants rushed forth from the rear and assailed him with sticks and stones, shouting, “This kalandar wishes in plain daylight to force his way into the house of the superintendent. What a pity that the superintendent is sick, or else this crime would have to be expiated on the gallows!” In the meantime all the neighbours assembled, and on seeing the shameless kalandar’s proceedings they cried, “Look at that impudent kalandar who wants forcibly to enter the house of the superintendent.” Ultimately the crowd amounted to more than five hundred persons, and the gentleman was put to flight and pursued by all the little boys, who pelted him with stones till they expelled him from the town.
At the distance of three farsangs from the town there was a village where the superintendent concealed himself in the corner of a mosque. During the evenings he went from house to house and begged for food to sustain life, until his mustachios again grew and the tattooed scars gradually began to disappear. Whenever anyone inquired for the superintendent at his house, he was informed by the servants that the gentleman was sick. After one month had expired, the grief of separation and the misery of his condition had again driven him back to the city. He went to the convent because fear hindered him from going to the house. His wife happened one day to catch a glimpse of him from her window, and perceived him sitting in the same dress with a company of kalandars. She felt compassion for him, called the servant and said, “The superintendent has had enough of this!” She made a loaf of bread and put some opiate into it, and said, “When the kalandars are asleep, you must go and place this loaf under the pillow of the superintendent.” The servant obeyed, and when the gentleman awoke in the middle of the night he was surprised to find the loaf. He fancied that when his companions had during the night returned from begging, they had placed it there, and so he ate some of it. During the same night the servant went there by the command of the lady, took his master on his back and carried him home. When it was morning, the lady took off the kalandar’s clothes from her husband and dressed him in his own garments, and began to make sweetmeats as on the former occasion. After some time he began to move, and his wife exclaimed, “O superintendent, do not sleep so much. I have told you that we shall spend this day in joy and pleasure, and it was not fair of you to pass the time in this lazy way. Lift up your head and see what beautiful sweetmeats I have baked for you.” When he opened his eyes, and saw himself dressed in his own clothes and at home, the rosebush of his amazement again brought forth the flowers of astonishment, and he said, “God be praised! What has happened to me?” He sat up, and exclaimed, “Wife, things have happened to me which I can scarcely describe.” She replied, “From the uneasy motions which you have made in your sleep, it appears you must have had extraordinary dreams.” “Dreams, forsooth,” said he, “since the moment I lay down I have experienced the most strange adventures.” “Certainly,” rejoined the lady, “last night you have been eating food disagreeing with your constitution, and to-day the vapours of it have ascended into your brains, and have caused you all this distress.” The superintendent said, “Yes last night we went to a party in the house of Serjeant Bahman, and there was roasted pillau, of which I ate somewhat more than usual, and the vapour of it has occasioned me all this trouble.”597
Strikingly similar to this story is the trick of the first lady on her husband in the “Fabliau des Trois Dames qui trouverent un Anel.” Having made him drunk, she causes his head to be shaved, dresses him in the habit of a monk, and carries him, assisted by her lover, to the entrance of a convent. When he awakes and sees himself thus transformed he imagines that God by a miraculous exercise of His grace had called him to the monastic life. He presents himself before the abbot and requests to be received among the brethren. The lady hastens to the convent in well-feigned despair, and is exhorted to be resigned and to congratulate her husband on the saintly vow he has taken. “Many a good man, ‘ says the poet, “has been betrayed by woman and by her harlotry. This one became a monk in the abbey, where he abode a very long time. Wherefore, I counsel all people who hear this story told, that they ought not to trust in their wives, nor in their households, if they have not first proved that they are full of virtues. Many a man has been deceived by women and by their treachery. This one became monk against right, who would never have been such in his life, if his wife had not deceived him.”598
The second lady’s trick in the fabliau is a very close parallel to the story in The Nights, vol. v. p. 96.599 She had for dinner on a Friday some salted and smoked eels, which her husband bade her cook, but there was no fire in the house. Under the pretext of going to have them cooked at a neighbour’s fire she goes out and finds her lover, at whose house she remains a whole week. On the following Friday, at the hour of dinner, she enters a neighbour’s house and asks leave to cook the eels, saying that her husband is angry with her for having no fire, and that she did not dare to go back, lest he should take off her head. As soon as the eels are cooked she carries them piping hot to her own house. The husband asks her where she has been for eight days, and commences to beat her. She cries for help and the neighbours come in, and amongst them the one at whose fire the eels had been cooked, who swears that the wife had only just left her house and ridicules the husband for his assertion that she had been away a whole week. The husband gets into a great rage and is locked up for a madman.
The device of the third lady seems a reflection of the “Elopement,” but without the underground tunnel between the houses of the wife and the lover. The lady proposes to her lover to marry him, and he believes that she is only jesting, seeing that she is already married, but she assures him that she is quite in earnest, and even undertakes that her husband will consent. The lover is to come for her husband and take him to the house of Dan Eustace, where he has a fair niece, whom the lover is to pretend he wishes to espouse, if he will give her to him. The wife will go thither, and she will have done her business with Eustace before they arrive. Her husband cannot but believe that he has left her at home, and she will be so apparelled that he cannot recognise her. This plan is accordingly carried out. The lover asks the husband for the hand of his niece in marriage, to which he joyously consents, and without knowing it makes a present of his own wife. “All his life long the lover possessed her, because the husband gave and did not lend her; nor could he ever get her back.”
Le Grand mentions that this fabliau is told at great length in the tales of the Sieur d’Ouville, tome iv. p. 255. In the “FacetiF BebelianF,” p. 86, three women wager which of them will play the best trick on her husband. One causes him to believe he is a monk, and he goes and sings mass, the second husband believed himself to be dead, and allows himself to be carried to that mass on a bier; and the third sings in it quite naked. (There is a very similar story in Campbell’s “Popular Tales of the West Highlands.") It is also found, says Le Grand, in the “Convivales Sermones,” tome i. p. 200, in the “Delices de Verboquet,” p. 166; and in the FacetiF of Lod. Domenichi, p. 172. In the “Comes pour Rire,” p. 197, three women find a diamond, and the arbiter whom they select promises it, as in the fabliau, to her who concocts the best device for deceiving her husband, but their ruses are different.
597 This is a version of The Sleeper and the Waker — with a vengeance! Abú Hasan the Wag, the Tinker, and the Rustic, and others thus practiced upon by frolic-loving princes and dukes, had each, at least, a most delightful “dream.” But when a man is similarly handled by the “wife of his bosom”— in stories, only, of course — the case is very different as the poor chief of police experienced. Such a “dream” as his wife induced upon him we may be sure he would remember “until that day that he did creep into his sepulchre!”
598 I call this “strikingly similar” to the preceding Persian story, although it has fewer incidents and the lady’s husband remains a monk, she could not have got him back even had she wished; for, having taken the vows, he was debarred from returning to “the world “ which a kalandar or dervish may do as often as he pleases.
599 “The Woman’s trick against her Husband.”
To Henry Edward John, Lord Stanley
Of Alderley
This
The Most Innocent Volume of the Nights
Is Inscribed By His Old Companion,
The Author.
The peculiar proceedings of the Curators, Bodleian Library, 1 Oxford, of which full particulars shall be given in due time, have dislocated the order of my volumes. The Prospectus had promised that Tome III. should contain detached extracts from the MS. known as the Wortley-Montague, and that No. IV. and part of No. V. should comprise a reproduction of the ten Tales (or eleven, including “The Princess of Daryábár”), which have so long been generally attributed to Professor Galland. Circumstances, however, wholly beyond my control have now compelled me to devote the whole of this volume to the Frenchman’s stories.
It will hardly be doubted that for a complete recueil of The Nights a retranslation of the Gallandian histoires is necessary. The learned Professor Gustav Weil introduced them all, Germanised literally from the French, into the Dritter Band of his well-known version — Tausend und eine Nacht; and not a few readers of Mr. John Payne’s admirable translation (the Villon) complained that they had bought it in order to see Ali Baba, Aladdin, and others translated into classical English and that they much regretted the absence of their old favourites.
But the modus operandi was my prime difficulty. I disliked the idea of an unartistic break or change in the style, ever
“Tâchnat de rendre mien cet air d’antiquité,”
and I aimed at offering to my readers a homogeneous sequel. My first thought for securing uniformity of treatment was to tender the French text into Arabic, and then to retranslate it into English. This process, however, when tried was found wanting; so I made inquiries in all directions for versions of the Gallandian histories which might have been published in Persian, Turkish, or Hindustani. Though assisted by the Prince of London Bibliopoles, Bernard Quaritch, I long failed to find my want: the vernaculars in Persian and Turkish are translated direct from the Arabic texts, and all ignore the French stories. At last a friend, Cameron McDowell, himself well known to the world of letters, sent me from Bombay a quaint lithograph with quainter illustrations which contained all I required. This was a version of Totárám Sháyán (No. III.), which introduced the whole of the Gallandian Tales: better still, these were sufficiently orientalised and divested of their inordinate Gallicism, especially their lonesome dialogue, by being converted into Hindustani, the Urdu Zabán (camp or court language) of Upper India and the Lingua Franca of the whole Peninsula.
During one of my sundry visits to the British Museum, I was introduced by Mr. Alexander G. Ellis to Mr. James F. Blumhardt, of Cambridge, who pointed out to me two other independent versions, one partly rhymed and partly in prose.
Thus far my work was done for me. Mr. Blumhardt, a practical Orientalist and teacher of the modem Prakrit tongues, kindly undertook, at my request, to English the Hindustani, collating at the same time, the rival versions; and thus, at a moment when my health was at its worst, he saved me all trouble and labour except that of impressing the manner with my own sign manual, and of illustrating the text, where required, with notes anthropological and other.
Meanwhile, part of my plan was modified by a visit to Paris in early 1887. At the Bibliothèque Nationale I had the pleasure of meeting M. Hermann Zotenberg, keeper of Eastern manuscripts, an Orientalist of high and varied talents, and especially famous for his admirable Chronique de Tabari. Happily for me, he had lately purchased for the National Library, from a vendor who was utterly ignorant of its history, a MS. copy of The Nights, containing the Arabic originals of Zayn al-Asnam and Alaeddin. The two volumes folio are numbered and docketed Supplément Arabe, Nos. 2522-23;” they measure 31 cent. by 20; Vol. i. contains 411 folios (822 pages) and Vol. ii. 402 (pp. 804); each page numbers fifteen lines, and each folio has its catchword. The paper is French, English and Dutch, with four to five different marks, such as G. Gautier; D. and C. Blaew; Pro Patrâ and others. The highly characteristic writing, which is the same throughout the two folios, is easily recognised as that of Michel (Mikhaíl) Sabbágh, the Syrian, author of the Colombe Messagère, published in Paris A.D. 1805, and accompanied by a translation by the celebrated Silvestre de Sacy (Chrestomathie iii. 365). This scribe also copied, about 1810, for the same Orientalist, the Ikhwán al-Safá.
I need say nothing more concerning this MS., which M. Zotenberg purposes to describe bibliographically in volume xxviii. of Notices et extraits des Manuscrits de la Bibliothèque rationale publiés par l’Academie des inscriptions et belles lettres. And there will be a tirage à part of 200-300 copies entitled Histoire d’ ‘Alá al-Dîn ou La Lampe Merveilleuse, Texte Arabe, publié par H. Zotenberg, Paris, Imprimerie Nationale, 1888; including a most important contribution:—Sur quelques Manuscrits des Mille et une Nuits et la traduction de Galland.1
The learned and genial author has favoured me with proof sheets of his labours: it would be unfair to disclose the discoveries, such as the Manuscript Journals in the Bibliothèque Nationale (Nos. 15277 to 15280), which the illustrious Garland kept regularly till the end of his life, and his conversations with “M. Hanna, Maronite d’Halep,” alias Jean Dipi (Dippy, a corruption of Diab): suffice it to say that they cast a clear and wholly original light upon the provenance of eight of the Gallandian histories. I can, however, promise to all “Aladdinists” a rich harvest of facts which wholly displace those hitherto assumed to be factual. But for the satisfaction of my readers I am compelled to quote the colophon of M. Zotenberg’s great “find” (vol. ii.), as it bears upon a highly important question.
“And the finishing thereof was during the first decade of Jamádi the Second, of the one thousand and one hundred and fifteenth year of the Hegirah (= A.D. 1703) by the transcription of the neediest of His slaves unto Almighty Allah, Ahmad bin Mohammed al-Tarádí, in Baghdad City: he was a Sháfi’í of school, and a Mosuli by birth, and a Baghdadi by residence, and he wrote it for his own use, and upon it he imprinted his signet. So Allah save our lord Mohammed and His Kin and Companions and assain them! Kabíkaj.”2
Now as this date corresponds with A.D. 1703, whereas Galland did begin publishing until 1705-1705 the original MS. of Ahmad al-Tarádí could not have been translated or adapted from the French; and although the transcription by Mikhail Sabbagh, writing in 1805-10, may have introduced modification borrowed from Galland, yet the scrupulous fidelity of his copy, shown by sundry marginal and other notes, lays the suspicion that changes of importance have been introduced by him. Remains now only to find the original codex of Al-Tarádí.
I have noticed in my translation sundry passages which appear to betray the Christian hand; but these are mostly of scanty consequence in no wise affecting the genuineness of the text.
The history of Zayn al Asnam was copied from the Sabbágh MS. and sent to me by M. Houdas, Professeur d’Arabe vulgaire a l’Ecole des langues orientales vivantes; an Arabist, whose name is favourably quoted in the French Colonies of Northern Africa M. Zotenberg kindly lent me his own transcription of Alaeddin before sending it to print; and I can only regret that the dilatory proceedings of the Imprimerie Nationale, an establishment supported by the State, and therefore ignoring the trammels of private industry, have prevented my revising the version now submitted to the public. This volume then begins with the two Gallandian Tales, “Zeyn Alasnam” and “Aladdin,” whose Arabic original was discovered by M. Zotenberg during the last year: although separated in the French version, I have brought them together for the sake of uniformity. The other eight (or nine, including the Princess of Daryabar), entitled History of Khudadad and his Brothers, and the Princess of Daryabar;
History of Khudadad and his Brothers, and the Princess of Daryabar;
History of the Blind Man, Baba Abdullah;
History of Sidi Nu’uman;
History of Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal;
History of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves;
History of Ali Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad;
History of Prince Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-banu;
History of the two Sisters who envied their Cadette,
are borrowed mainly from the Indian version of Totárám Sháyán.
And here I must quote the bibliographical notices concerning the sundry versions into Urdu or Hindustani which have been drawn up with great diligence by Mr. Blumhardt.
“The earliest attempt to translate the Arabian Nights was made by Munshi Shams al-Dín Ahmad Shirwáni. A prose version of the first two hundred Nights made by him ‘for the use of the College at Fort St. George’ was lithographed at Madras in the year A.H. 1252 (A.D. 1836) and published in 8vo volumes (pp. 517, 426) under the title ‘Hikayat ool jaleeah’3 (Hikáyát al-jalílah). The translation was made from an Arabic original but it does not appear what edition was made use of. The translator had intended to bring out a version of the entire work, but states in his preface that, being unable to procure the Arabic of the other Nights, he could not proceed with the translation, and had to be content to publish only two hundred Nights. This version does not appear to have become popular, for no other edition seems to have been published. And the author must not be confounded with Shaykh Ahmad Shirwáni, who, in A.D. 1814, printed an Arabic edition of the Arabian Nights Entertainments (Calcutta, Pereira) which also stopped at No. CC.
“The next translation was made by Munshi al-Karím, likewise in prose. From the preface and colophon to this work it appears that ‘Abd al-Karím obtained a copy of Edward Foster’s English version of the Arabian Nights, and after two years’ labour completed a translation of the whole work in A.H. 1258 (A.D. 1842). It was lithographed at the Mustafai Press at Kanpúr (Cawnpore) in the year A.H. 1263 (A.D. 1847) and published in four vols., in two royal 8vos, lithographed; each containing two Jilds (or parts, pp. 276, 274; 214 and 195).
“A second edition appeared from the same press in A.H. 1270 (A.D. 1853) also in two vols. 8vo of two Jilds each (pp. 249, 245; 192, 176). Since then several other editions have been published at Cawnpore, at Lakhnau4 and also at Bombay. This translation is written in an easy fluent style, omitting all coarseness of expression or objectionable passages, in language easily understood, and at the same time in good and elegant Hindustani. It is therefore extremely popular, and selections from the 4th Jild have been taken as text books for the Indian Civil Service examinations. A Romanised Urdu version of the first two Jilds according to Duncan Forbes’ system of transliteration, was made ‘under the superintendence of T. W. H. Tolbort,’ and published under the editorship of F. Pincott in London, by W. H. Allen and Co. in 1882.5 There has been no attempt to divide this translation into Nights: there are headings to the several tales and nothing more. To supply this want, and also to furnish the public with a translation closer to the original, and one more intelligible to Eastern readers, and in accordance with Oriental thought and feeling, a third translation was taken in hand by Totárám Sháyán, at the instance of Nawal Kishore, the well-known bookseller and publisher of Lucknow. The first edition of this translation was lithographed at Lucknow in the year A.H. 1284 (A.D. 1868) and published in a 4to vol. of 1,080 pages under the title of Hazár Dastán.6 Totárám Sháyán has followed ‘Abd al-Karim’s arrangement of the whole work into four Jilds, each of which has a separate pagination (pp. 304; 320, 232, and 224.) The third Jild has 251 Nights: the other three 250 each. The translation is virtually in prose, but it abounds in snatches of poetry, songs and couplets taken from the writings of Persian poets, and here and there a verse-rendering of bits of the story. This translation, though substantially agreeing in the main with that of ‘Abd al-Karim, yet differs widely from it in the treatment. It is full of flowery metaphors and is written in a rich, ornate style full of Persian and Arabic words and idioms, which renders it far less easy to understand than the simple language of ‘Abd al-Karim. Some passages have been considerably enlarged and sometimes contain quite different reading from that of ‘Abd al-Karim with occasional additional matter. In other places descriptions have been much curtailed so that although the thread of the story may be the same in both translations it is hard to believe that the two translators worked from the same version. Unfortunately Totárám Sháyán makes no mention at Ali the source whence he made his translation whether English or Arabic. This translation reached its fourth edition in 1883, and has been published with the addition of several badly executed full-page illustrations evidently taken from English prints.
“Yet another translation of The Nights has been made into Hindustani, and this a versified paraphrase, the work of three authors whose takhallus or noms de plume, were as follows: “Nasím” (Muhammad Asghar Ali Khán), translator of the first Jild, “Sháyán” (Totárám Sháyán), who undertook the second and third Jilds, and “Chaman” (Shádí Lál) by whom the fourth and last Jild was translated. The work is complete in 1,244 pages 4to, and was lithographed at Lucknow; Jilds i.-iii. in A.H. 1278 (A.D. 1862) and Jild iv. in 1285 (A.D. 1869). This translation is also divided into Nights, differing slightly from the prose translation of Totárám Sháyán, as the first Jild has 251 Nights and the others 250 each.”
And now I have only to end this necessarily diffuse Foreword with my sincerest thanks to Mr. Clouston, the Storiologist, who has brought his wide experience of Folk-lore to bear upon the tales included in my Third Supplemental Volume; and to Dr. Steingass, who during my absence from England kindly passed my proofs through the press.
RICHARD F. BURTON.
Sauerbrunn-Rohitsch, Styria.
September 15, ‘87.
Quoth Dunyázád, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night;” and Shahrázád replied, “With love and good will! I will relate to you
1 M. Zotenberg empowered me to offer his “Aladdin” to an “Oriental” publishing-house well-known in London, and the result was the “no-public” reply. The mortifying fact is that Oriental studies are now at their nadir in Great Britain, which is beginning to show so small in the Eastern World.
2 P.N. of a Jinni who rules the insect-kingdom and who is invoked by scribes to protect their labours from the worm.
3 Both name and number suggest the “Calc. Edit.” of 1814. See “Translator’s Foreword” vol. i., x)x.-xx. There is another version of the first two hundred Nights, from the “Calc. Edit.” into Urdu by one Haydar Ali 1 vol. roy. 8vo lithog. Calc. 1263 (1846). — R.F.B.
4 “Alf Leilah” in Hindostani 4 vols. in 2, royal 8vo, lithographed, Lakhnau, 1263 (1846). — R. F. B.
5 This is the “Alif” (!) Leila, Tarjuma-i Alif (!) Laila ba-Zuban-i-Urdu (Do Jild, baharfát-i-Yurop), an Urdu translation of the Arabian Nights, printed entirely in the Roman character, etc., etc. — R.F.B.
6 i.e., The Thousand Tales.
7 From the MS, in the Bibliochèque Nationale (Supplement Arab. No. 2523) vol. ii., p. 82, verso to p. 94, verso. The Sisters are called Dínárzád and Shahrázád, a style which I have not adopted.
It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that in Bassorah-city9 reigned a puissant Sultan, who was opulent exceedingly and who owned all the goods of life; but he lacked a child which might inherit his wealth and dominion. So, being sorely sorrowful on this account, he arose and fell to doing abundant alms-deeds to Fakírs and the common poor, to the Hallows and other holy men and prayed their recourse to Allah Almighty, in order that the Lord (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) might of His grace bless him with issue. And the Compassionate accepted his prayer for his alms to the Religious and deigned grant his petition; and one night of the nights after he lay with the Queen she went away from him with child. Now as soon as the Sultan heard of the conception he rejoiced with exceeding great joyance, and when the days of delivery drew near he gathered together all the astrologers and sages who strike the sand-board,10and said to them, “’Tis our desire that ye disclose and acquaint us anent the birth which is to be born during the present month whether it shall be male or female, and what shall befal it from the shifts of Time, and what shall proceed from it.” Thereupon the geomantists struck their sand-boards and the astrophils ascertained their ascendants and they drew the horoscope of the babe unborn, and said to the sovran, “O King of the Age and Lord of the Time and the Tide, verily the child to which the Queen shall presently give birth will be a boy and ‘t will be right for thee to name him Zayn al-Asnám — Zayn of the Images.” Then spake the geomantists, saying, “Know then, Ho though the King, that this little one shall approve him when grown to man’s estate valiant and intelligent; but his days shall happen upon sundry troubles and travails, and yet if he doughtily fight against all occurrence he shall become the most opulent of the Kings of the World.” Exclaimed the Sultan, “An the child approve himself valorous, as ye have announced, then the toil and moil which shall be his lot may be held for naught, inasmuch as calamities but train and strengthen the songs of the Kings.”11 Shortly after this the Queen gave birth to a man-child, and Glory be to Him who fashioned the babe with such peerless beauty and loveliness! The King named his son Zayn al-Asnam, and presently he became even as the poets sang of one of his fellows in semblance,
“He showed; and they cried, ‘Be Allah blest!’
And who made him and formed him His might attest!
This be surely the lord of all loveliness;
And all others his lieges and thralls be confest.”
Then Zayn al-Asnam grew up and increased until his age attained its fifteenth year, when his sire the Sultan appointed for him an experienced governor, one versed in all the sciences and philosophies;12 who fell to instructing him till such times as he waxed familiar with every branch of knowledge, and in due season he became an adult. Thereupon the Sultan bade summon his son and heir to the presence together with the Lords of his land and the Notables of his lieges and addressed him before them with excellent counsel saying, “O my son, O Zayn al-Asnam, seeing that I be shotten in years and at the present time sick of a sickness which haply shall end my days in this world and which anon shall seat thee in my stead, therefore, I bequeath unto thee the following charge. Beware, O my son, lest thou wrong any man, and incline not to cause the poor complain; but do justice to the injured after the measure of thy might. Furthermore, have a care lest thou trust to every word spoken to thee by the Great; but rather lend thou ever an ear unto the voice of the general; for that thy Grandees will betray thee as they seek only whatso suiteth them, not that which suiteth thy subjects.” A few days after this time the old Sultan’s distemper increased and his lifeterm was fulfilled and he died; whereupon his son, Zayn al-Asnam, arose and donned mourning-dress for his father during six days; and on the seventh he went forth to the Divan and took seat upon the throne of his Sultanate. He also held a levee wherein were assembled all the defenders of the realm, and the Ministers and the Lords of the land came forward and condoled with him for the loss of his parent and wished him all good fortune and gave him joy of his kingship and dominion and prayed for his endurance in honour and his permanence in prosperity. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night;” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Zayn al-Asnam seeing himself in this high honour and opulence13 and he young in years and void of experience, straightway inclined unto lavish expenditure and commerce with the younglings, who were like him and fell to wasting immense wealth upon his pleasures; and neglected his government, nor paid aught of regard to his subjects.14 Thereupon the Queen-mother began to counsel him, and forbid him from such ill courses, advising him to abandon his perverse inclinations and apply his mind to rule and commandment, and to further the policy of his kingdom, lest the lieges repudiate him and rise up against him and depose him. But he would on no wise hearken to a single of her words and persisted in his ignorant folly; whereat the folk murmured, inasmuch as the Lords of the land had put forth their hands to tyranny and oppression when they saw the King lacking in regard for his Ryots. And presently the commons rose up against Zayn al-Asnam and would have dealth harshly with him had not his mother been a woman of wits and wisdom and contrivance, dearly loved of the general. So she directed the malcontents aright and promised them every good: then she summoned her son Zayn al-Asnam and said to him, “Behold, O my child, that which I foretold for thee, to wit that thou wastest thy realm and lavishest thy life to boot by persevering in what ignorance thou art; for that thou hast placed the governance of thy Kingdom in the hands of inexperienced youth and hast neglected the elders and hast dissipated thy moneys and the moneys of the monarchy, and thou hast lavished all thy treasure upon wilfulness and carnal pleasuring.” Zayn al-Asnam, awaking from the slumber of negligence, forthright accepted his mother’s counsel and, faring forth at once to the Diwan,15 he entrusted the management of the monarchy to certain old officers, men of intelligence and experience. But he acted on this wise only after Bassorah-town was ruined, inasmuch as he had not turned away from his ignorant folly before he had wasted and spoiled all the wealth of the Sultanate, and he had become utterly impoverished. Thereupon the Prince fell to repenting and regretting that which had been done by him, until the repose of sleep was destroyed for him and he shunned meat and drink; nor did this cease until one night of the nights which had sped in such grief and thoughtfulness and vain regret until dawn drew nigh and his eyelids closed for a little while. Then an old and venerable Shaykh appeared to him in a vision16 and said to him, “O Zayn al-Asnam, sorrow not; for after sorrow however sore cometh naught but joyance; and, would’st thou win free of this woe, up and hie thee to Egypt where thou shalt find hoards of wealth which shall replace whatso thou hast wasted and will double it more than twofold.” Now when the Prince was aroused from his sleep he recounted to his mother all he had seen in his dream; but his parent began to laugh at him, and he said to her, “Mock me not: there is no help but that I wend Egypt-wards.” Rejoined she, “O my son, believe not in swevens which be mere imbroglios of sleep and lying phantasies;” and retorted saying, “In very sooth my vision is true and the man whom I saw therein is of the Saints of Allah and his words are veridical.” Then on a night of the nights mounting horse alone and privily, he abandoned his Kingdom; and took the highway to Egypt; and he rode day and night until he reached Cairo-city. He entered it and saw it to be a mighty fine capital; then, tethering his steed he found shelter in one of its Cathedral-mosques, and he worn out by weariness; however, when he had rested a little he fared forth and bought himself somewhat of food. After eating, his excessive fatigue caused him fall asleep in the mosque; nor had he slept long ere the Shaykh17 appeared to him a second time in vision and said to him, “O Zayn al-Asnam,"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Shaykh again appeared to the Prince in a vision and said to him, “O Zayn al-Asnam, though hast obeyed me in whatso I bade thee and I only made trial of thee to test an thou be valiant or a craven. But now I wot thy worth, inasmuch as thou hast accepted my words and thou hast acted upon my advice: so do thou return straightway to thy capital and I will make thee a wealthy ruler, such an one that neither before thee was any king like unto thee nor shall any like unto thee come after thee.” Hereat Zayn al-Asnam awoke and cried “Bismillah — in the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate — what be this Shaykh who verily persecuted me until I travelled to Cairo; and I having faith in him and holding that he was either the Apostle (whom Allah save and assain!) or one of the righteous Hallows of God; and there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! By the Lord, but I did right well in not relating my dream to any save to my mother, and in warning none of my departure. I had full faith in this oldster; but now, meseemeth, the man is not of those who know the Truth (be He extolled and exalted!); so by Allah I will cast off all confidence in this Shaykh and his doings.” With this resolve the Prince slept that night in the Mosque and on the morrow took horse and after a few days of strenuous travel arrived at his capital Bassorah. Herein he entered by night, and forthright went in to his mother who asked him, “Say me, hast thou won aught of whatso the Shaykh promised thee?” and he answered her by acquainting her with all his adventure. Then she applied her to consoling and comforting him, saying, “Grieve not, O my son; if Almighty Allah have apportioned unto thee aught thou shalt obtain it without toil and travail.18 But I would see thee wax sensible and wise, abandoning all these courses which have landed thee in poverty, O my son; and shunning songstresses and commune with the inexperienced and the society of loose livers, male and female. All such pleasures as these are for the sons of the ne’er-do-well, not for the scions of the Kings thy peers.” Herewith Zayn al-Asnam sware an oath to bear in mind all she might say to him, never to gainsay her commandments, nor deviate from them a single hair’s breadth; to abandon all she should forbid him, and to fix his thoughts upon rule and goverance. Then he addrest himself to sleep, and as he slumbered, the Shaykh appeared to him a third time in vision, and said, “O Zayn al-Asnam, O thou valorous Prince; this very day, as soon as thou shalt have shaken off thy drowsiness, I will fulfil my covenant with thee. So take with thee a pickaxe, and hie to such a palace of thy sire, and turn up the ground, searching it well in such a place where thou wilt find that which shall enrich thee.” As soon as the Prince awoke, he hastened to his mother in huge joy and told her his tale; but she fell again to laughing at him, and saying, “O my child, indeed this old man maketh mock of thee and naught else; so get thyself clear of him.” But Zayn al-Asnam replied, “O mother mine, verily this Shaykh is soothfast and no liar: for the first time he but tried me and now he proposeth to perform his promise.” Whereto his mother, “At all events, the work is not wearisome; so do thou whatso thou willest even as he bade thee. Make the trial and Inshallah — God willing — return to me rejoicing; yet sore I fear lest thou come back to me and say, ‘Sooth thou hast spoken in thy speech, O my mother!” However Zayn al-Asnam took up a pickaxe and, descending to that part of the palace where his sire lay entombed, began to dig and to delve; nor had he worked a long while19 ere, lo and behold! there appeared to him a ring bedded in a marble slab. He removed the stone and saw a ladder-like flight of steps whereby he descended until he found a huge souterrain all pillar’d and propped with columns of marble and alabaster. And when he entered the inner recesses he saw within the cave-like souterrain a pavilion which bewildered his wits, and inside the same stood eight jars20 of green jasper. So he said in his mind, “What may be these jars and what may be stored therein?"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when Zayn al-Asnam saw the jars, he came forwards and unlidding them found each and every full of antique21 golden pieces; so he hent a few in hand seen and going to his mother gave of them to her saying, “Hast thou seen, O my mother?” She marvelled at the matter and made answer, “Beware, O my son, of wasting this wealth as thou dissipatedst otheraforetime;” whereupon her son sware to her an oath saying, “Have no care, O my mother, nor be thy heart other than good before me; and I desire that thou also find satisfaction in mine actions.” Presently she arose and went forth with him, and the twain descended into the cavern-like souterrain and entered the pavilion, where the Queen saw that which wildereth the wits; and she made sure with her own eyes that the jars were full of gold. But while they enjoyed the spectacle of the treasure behold, they caught sight of a smaller jar wondrously wrought in green jasper; so Zayn al-Asnam opened it and found therein a golden key; whereupon quoth the Queen-mother, “O my son, needs must this key have some door which it unlocketh.” Accordingly they sought all about the souterrain and the pavilion to find if there be a door or aught like thereto, and presently, seeing a wooden lock fast barred, they knew wherefor the key was intended. Presently the Prince applied it and opened the lock, whereupon the door of a palace gave admittance, and when the twain entered they found it more spacious than the first pavilion and all illumined with a light which dazed the sight; yet not a wax-candle lit it up nor indeed was there a recess for lamps. Hereat they marvelled and meditated and presently they discovered eight images22 of precious stones, all seated upon as many golden thrones, and each and every was cut of one solid piece; and all the stones were pure and of the finest water and most precious of price. Zayn al-Asnam was confounded hereat and said to his mother, “Whence could my sire have obtained all these rare things?” And the twain took their pleasure in gazing at them and considering them and both wondered to see a ninth throne unoccupied, when the Queen espied a silken hanging whereon was inscribed, “O my son, marvel not at this mighty wealth which I have acquired by sore stress and striving travail. But learn also that there existeth a Ninth Statue whose value is twenty-fold greater than these thou seest and, if thou would win it, hie thee again to Cairo-city. There thou shalt find a whilome slave of mine Mubárak23 hight and he will take thee and guide thee to the Statue; and ’twill be easy to find him on entering Cairo: the first person thou shalt accost will point out the house to thee, for that Mubarak is known throughout the place.” When Zayn al-Asnam had read this writ he cried: “O my mother, ’tis again my desire to wend my way Cairo-wards and seek out this image; so do thou say how seest thou my vision, fact or fiction, after thou assuredst me saying, ‘This be an imbroglio of sleep?’ However, at all events, O my mother, now there is no help for it but that I travel once more to Cairo.” Replied she, “O my child, seeing that thou be under the protection of the Apostle of Allah (whom may He save and assain!) so do thou fare in safety, while I and thy Wazir will order thy reign in thine absence till such time as thou shalt return.” Accordingly the Prince went forth and gat him ready and rode on till he reached Cairo where he asked for Mubarak’s house. The folk answered him saying, “O my lord, this be a man than whom none is wealthier or greater in boon deeds and bounties, and his home is ever open to the stranger.” Then they showed him the way and he followed it till he came to Mubarak’s mansion where he knocked at the door and a slave of the black slaves opened to him. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night;” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Zayn al-Asnam knocked at the door when a slave of Mubarak’s black slaves came out to him and opening asked him, “Who24 art thou and what is it thou wantest?” The Prince answered, “I am a foreigner from a far country, and I have heard of Mubarak thy lord that he is famed for liberality and generosity; so that I come hither purposing to become his guest.” Thereupon the chattel went in to his lord and, after reporting the matter to him, came out and said to Zayn al-Asnam, “O my lord, a blessing hath descended upon us by thy footsteps. Do thou enter, for my master Mubarak awaiteth thee.” Therewith the Prince passed into a court spacious exceedingly and all beautified with trees and waters, and the slave led him to the pavilion wherein Mubarak was sitting. As the guest came in the host straightway rose up and met him with cordial greeting and cried, “A benediction hath alighted upon us and this night is the most benedight of the nights by reason of thy coming to us! So who are thou, O youth, and whence is thine arrival and whither is thine intent?” He replied, “I am Zayn al-Asnam and I seek one Mubarak, a slave of the Sultan of Bassorah who deceased a year ago, and I am his son.” Mubarak rejoined, “What sayest thou? Thou the son of the King of Bassorah?” and the other retorted, “Yea, verily I am his son.”25 Quoth Mubarak, “In good sooth my late lord the King of Bassorah left no son known to me! But what may be thine age, O youth?” “Twenty years or so,” quoth the Prince, presently adding, “But thou, how long is it since thou leftest my sire?” “I left him eighteen years ago,” said the other; “but, O my shild Zayn al-Asnam, by what sign canst thou assure me of thy being the son of my old master, the Sovran of Bassorah?” Said the Prince, “Thou alone knowest that my father laid out beneath his palace a souterrain,26 and in this he placed forty jars of the finest green jasper, which he filled with pieces of antique gold, also that within a pavilion he builded a second palace and set therein eight images of precious stones, each one of a single gem, and all seated upon royal seats of placer-gold.27 He also wrote upon a silken hanging a writ which I read and which bade me repair to thee and thou wouldst inform me concerning the Ninth Statue whereabouts it may be, assuring me that it is worth all the eight.” Now when Mubarak heard these words, he fell at the feet of Zayn al-Asnam and kissed them exclaiming, “Pardon me, O my lord, in very truth thou art the son of my old master;” adding, presently, “I have spread, O my lord, a feast28 for all the Grandess of Cairo and I would that thy Highness honour it by thy presence.” The Prince replied, “With love and the best will.” Thereupon Mubarak arose and forewent Zayn al-Asnam to the saloon which was full of the Lords of the land there gathered together, and here he seated himself after stablishing Zayn al-Asnam in the place of honour. Then he bade the tables be spread and the feast be served and he waited upon the Prince with arms crossed behind his back29 and at times falling upon his knees. So the Grandees of Cairo marvelled to see Mubarak, one of the great men of the city, serving the youth and wondered with extreme wonderment, unknowing whence the stranger was. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak fell to waiting upon Zayn al-Asnam the son of his old lord, and the Grandees of Cairo there sitting marvelled to see Mubarak, one of the great men of the city, serving the youth and wondered with extreme wonderment, unknowing whence the stranger was. After this they ate and drank and supped well and were cheered till at last Mubarak turned towards them and said, “O folk, admire not that I wait upon this young man with all worship and honour, for that he is the son of my old lord, the Sultan of Bassorah, who bought me with his money and who died without manumitting me. I am, therefore, bound to do service to his son, this my young lord, and all that my hand possesseth of money and munition belongeth to him nor own I aught thereof at all, at all.” When the Grandees of Cairo heard these words, they stood up before Zayn al-Asnam and salamed to him with mighty great respect and entreated him with high regard and blessed him. Then said the Prince, “O assembly, I am in the presence of your worships, and be ye my witnesses. O Mubarak, thou art now freed and all thou hast of goods, gold and gear erst belonging to us becometh henceforth thine own and thou art endowed with them for good each and every. Eke do thou ask whatso of importance thou wouldst have from me, for I will on no wise let or stay thee in thy requiring it.” With this Mubarak arose and kissed the hand of Zayn al-Asnam and thanked him for his boons, saying, “O my lord, I wish for thee naught save thy weal, but the wealth that is with me is altogether overmuch for my wants.” Then the Prince abode with the Freedman four days, during which all the Grandees of Cairo made act of presence day by day to offer their salams as soon as they heard men say, “This is the master of Mubarak and the monarch of Bassorah.” And whenas the guest had taken his rest he said to his host, “O Mubarak, my tarrying with thee hath been long; whereto said the other, “Thou wottest, O my lord, that the matter whereinto thou comest to enquire is singular-rare, but that it also involveth risk of death, and I know not if thy valour can make the attainment thereto possible to thee.” Rejoined Zayn al-Asnam, “Know, O Mubarak, that opulence is gained only by blood; nor cometh aught upon mankind save by determination and predestination of the Creator (be He glorified and magnified!); so look to thine own stoutness of heart and take thou no thought of me.” Thereupon Mubarak forthright bade his slaves get them ready for wayfare; so they obeyed his bidding in all things and mounted horse and travelled by light and dark over the wildest of wolds, every day seeing matters and marvels which bewildered their wits, sights they had never seen in all their years, until they drew near unto a certain place. There the party dismounted and Mubarak bade the negro slaves and eunuchs abide on the spot saying to them, “Do ye keep watch and ward over the beasts of burthen and the horses until what time we return to you.” After this the twain set out together afoot and quoth the Freedman to the Prince, “O my lord, here valiancy besitteth, for that now thou art in the land of the Image30 thou camest to seek.” And they ceased not walking till they reached a lake, a long water and a wide, where quoth Mubarak to his companion, “Know, O my lord, that anon will come to us a little craft bearing a banner of azure tinct and all its planks are of chaunders and lign-aloes of Comorin, the most precious of woods. And now I would charge thee with a charge the which must thou most diligently observe.” Asked the other, “Thou wilt see in that boat a boatman31 whose fashion is the reverse of man’s; but beware, and again I say beware, lest thou utter a word, otherwise he will at once drown us.32 Learn also that this stead belongeth to the King of the Jinns and that everything thou beholdest is the work of the Jann."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak and Zayn al-Asnam came upon a lake where, behold, they found a little craft whose planks were of chaunders and lign-aloes of Comorin and therein stood a ferryman with the head of an elephant while the rest of his body wore the semblance of a lion.33 Presently he approached them and winding his trunk around them34 lifted them both into the boat and seated them beside himself: then he fell to paddling till he passed through the middle of the lake and he ceased not so doing until he had landed them on the further bank. Here the twain took ground and began to pace forwards, gazing around them the while and regarding the trees which bore for burthen ambergris and lign-aloes, sandal, cloves, and gelsamine,35 all with flowers and fruits bedrest whose odours broadened the breast and excited the sprite. There also the birds warbled, with various voices, notes ravishing and rapturing the heart by the melodies of their musick. So Mubarak turned to the Prince and asked him saying, “How seest thou this place, O my lord?” and the other answered, “I deem, O Mubarak, that in very truth this be the Paradise promised to us by the Prophet (whom Allah save and assain!).” Thence they fared forwards till they came upon a mighty fine palace all builded of emeralds and rubies with gates and doors of gold refined: it was fronted by a bridge one hundred and fifty cubits long to a breadth of fifty, and the whole was one rib of a fish.36 At the further end thereof stood innumerous hosts of the Jann, all frightful of favour and fear-inspiring of figure and each and every hent in hand javelins of steel which flashed to the sun like December leven. Thereat quoth the Prince to his companion, “This be a spectacle which ravisheth the wits;” and quoth Mubarak, “It now behoveth that we abide in our places nor advance further lest there happen to us some mishap; and may Allah vouchsafe to us safety!” Herewith he brought forth his pouch four strips of a yellow silken stuff and zoning himself with one threw the other over his shoulders;37 and he gave the two remaining pieces to the Prince that he might do with them on like wise. Next he dispread before either of them a waist shawl38 of white sendal and then he pulled out of his poke sundry precious stones and scents and ambergris and eagle-wood;39 and, lastly, each took his seat upon his sahs, and when both were ready Mubarak repeated the following words to the Prince and taught him to pronounce them before the King of the Jann, “O my lord, Sovran of the Spirits, we stand within thy precincts and we throw ourselves on thy protection;” whereto Zayn al-Asnam added, “And I adjure him earnestly that he accept of us.” But Mubarak rejoined, “O my lord, by Allah I am in sore fear. Hear me! An he determine to accept us without hurt or harm he will approach us in the semblance of a man rare of beauty and comeliness but, if not, he will assume a form frightful and terrifying. Now an thou see him in his favourable shape do thou arise forthright and salam to him and above all things beware lest thou step beyond this thy coth.” The Prince replied, “To hear is to obey,” and the other continued, “And let thy salam to him be thy saying, O King of the Sprites and Sovran of the Jann and Lord of Earth, my sire, the whilome Sultan of Bassorah, whom the Angel of Death hath removed (as is not hidden from thy Highness) was ever taken under thy protection and I, like him, come to thee sueing the same safeguard."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak fell to lessoning Zayn al-Asnam how he should salute the King of the Jinns, and pursued, “Likewise, O my lord, if he hail us with gladsome face of welcome he will doubtless say thee, ‘Ask whatso thou wantest of me!’ and the moment he giveth thee his word do thou at once prefer thy petition saying, O my lord, I require of thy Highness the Ninth Statue than which is naught more precious in the world, and thou didst promise my father to vouchsafe me that same.” And after this Mubarak instructed his master how to address the King and crave of him the boon and how to bespeak him with pleasant speech. Then he began his conjurations and fumigations and adjurations and recitations of words not understanded of any and but little time elapsed before cold rain down railed and lightning flashed and thunder roared and thick darkness veiled earth’s face. Presently came forth a mighty rushing wind and a voice like an earthquake, the quake of earth on Judgment Day.40 The Prince, seeing these horrors and sighting that which he had never before seen or heard, trembled for terror in every limb; but Mubarak fell to laughing at him and saying, “Fear not, O my lord: for that which thou dreadest is what we seek, for to us it is an earnest of glad tidings and success; so be thou satisfied and hold thyself safe.”41 After this the skies waxed clear and serene exceedingly while perfumed winds and the purest scents breathed upon them; nor did a long time elapse ere the King of the Jann presented himself under the semblance of a beautiful man who had no peer in comeliness save and excepting Him who lacketh likeness and to Whom be honour and glory! He gazed at Zayn al-Asnam with a gladsome aspect and a riant, whereat the Prince arose forthright and recited the string of benedictions taught to him by his companion and the King said to him with a smiling favour, “O Zayn al-Asnam, verily I was wont to love thy sire, the Sultan of Bassorah and, when he visited me ever, I used to give him an image of those thou sawest, each cut of a single gem; and thou also shalt presently become to me honoured as thy father and yet more. Ere he died I charged him to write upon the silken curtain the writ thou readest and eke I gave promise and made covenant with him to take thee like thy parent under my safeguard and to gift thee as I gifted him with an image, to wit, the ninth, which is of greater worth than all those viewed by thee. So now ’tis my desire to stand by my word and to afford thee my promised aid."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Lord of the Jann said to the Prince, “I will take thee under my safeguard and the Shaykh thou sawest in thy swevens was myself and I also ’twas who bade thee dig under thy palace down to the souterrain wherein thou sawest the crocks of gold and the figures of fine gems. I also well know wherefore thou art come hither and I am he who caused thee to come and I will give thee what thou seekest, for all that I would not give it to thy sire. But ’tis on condition that thou return unto me bringing a damsel whose age is fifteen, a maiden without rival or likeness in loveliness; furthermore she must be a pure virgin and a clean maid who hath never lusted for male nor hath ever been solicited of man;42 and lastly, thou must keep faith with me in safeguarding the girl whenas thou returnest hither and beware lest thou play the traitor with her whilst thou bringest her to me.” To this purport the Prince sware a mighty strong oath adding, “O my lord, thou hast indeed honoured me by requiring of me such service, but truly ’twill be right hard for me to find a fair one like unto this; and, grant that I find one perfectly beautiful and young in years after the requirement of thy Highness, how shall I weet if she ever longed for mating with man or that male ever lusted for her?” Replied the King, “Right thou art, O Zayn al-Asnam, and verily this be a knowledge whereunto the sons of men may on no wise attain. However, I will give thee a mirror43 of my own whose virtue is this. When thou shalt sight a young lady whose beauty and loveliness please thee, do thou open the glass,44 and, if thou see therein her image clear and undimmed, do thou learn forthright that she is a clean maid without aught of defect or default and endowed with every praiseworthy quality. But if, contrariwise, the figure be found darkened or clothed in uncleanness, do thou straightway know that damsel is sullied by soil of sex. Shouldst thou find her pure and gifted with all manner good gifts, bring her to me but beware not to offend with her and do villainy, and if thou keep not faith and promise with me bear in mind that thou shalt lose thy life.” Hereupon the Prince made a stable and solemn pact with the King, a covenant of the sons of the Sultans which may never be violated. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Prince Zayn al-Asnam made a stable and trustworthy compact to keep faith with the King of the Jann and never to play traitor thereto, but to bring the maid en tout bien et tout honneur to that potentate who made over to him the mirror saying, “O my son, take this looking-glass whereof I bespake thee and depart straightway.” Thereupon the Prince and Mubarak arose and, after blessing him, fared forth and journeyed back until they made the lakelet, where they sat but a little ere appeared the boat which had brought them bearing the Jinni with elephantine head and leonine body, and he was standing up ready for paddling.45 The twain took passage with him (and this by command of the King of the Jann) until they reached Cairo and returned to their quarters, where they abode whilst they rested from the travails of travel. Then the Prince turned to his companion and said, “Arise with us and wend we to Baghdad46-city that we may look for some damsel such as the King describeth!” and Mubarak replied, “O my lord, we be in Cairo, a city of the cities, a wonder of the world, and here no doubt there is but that I shall find such a maiden, nor is there need that we fare therefor to a far country.” Zayn al-Asnam rejoined, “True for thee, O Mubarak, but what be the will and the way whereby to hit upon such a girl, and who shall go about to find her for us?” Quoth the other, “Be not beaten and broken down, O my lord, by such difficulty: I have by me here an ancient dame (and cursed be the same!) who maketh marriages, and she is past mistress in wiles and guiles; nor will she be hindered by the greatest of obstacles.”47 So saying, he sent to summon the old trot, and informed her that he wanted a damsel perfect of beauty and not past her fifteenth year, whom he would marry to the son of his lord; and he promised her sumptuous Bakhshish and largesse if she would do her very best endeavour. Answered she, “O my lord, be at rest: I will presently contrive to satisfy thy requirement even beyond thy desire; for under my hand are damsels unsurpassable in beauty and loveliness, and all be the daughters of honourable men.” But the old woman, O Lord of the Age, knew naught anent the mirror. So she went forth to wander about the city and work on her well-known ways. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the old woman went forth to work on her well-known ways, and she wandered about town to find a maiden for the Prince Zayn al-Asnam. Whatever notable beauty she saw she would set before Mubarak; but each semblance as it was considered in the mirror showed exceedingly dark and dull, and the inspector would dismiss the girl. This endured until the crone had brought to him all the damsels in Cairo, and not one was found whose reflection in the mirror showed clear-bright and whose honour was pure and clean, in fact such an one as described by the King of the Jann. Herewith Mubarak, seeing that he had not found one in Cairo to please him, or who proved pure and unsullied as the King of the Jann had required, determined to visit Baghdad: so they rose up and equipped them and set out and in due time they made the City of Peace where they hired them a mighty fine mansion amiddlemost the capital. Here they settled themselves in such comfort and luxury that the Lords of the land would come daily to eat at their table, even the thirsty and those who went forth betimes,48 and what remained of the meat was distributed to the mesquin and the miserable; also every poor stranger lodging in the Mosques would come to the house and find a meal. Therefore the bruit of them for generosity and liberality went abroad throughout the city and won for them notable name and the fairest of fame; nor did any ever speak of aught save the beneficence of Zayn al-Asnam and his generosity and his opulence. Now there chanced to be in one of the cathedral-mosques and Imám,49 Abu Bakr hight, a ghostly man passing jealous and fulsome, who dwelt hard by the manion wherein the Prince and Mubarak abode; and he, when he heard of their lavish gifts and alms deeds, and honourable report, smitten by envy and malice and hatred, fell to devising how he might draw them into some calamity that might despoil the goods they enjoyed and destroy their lives, for it is the wont of envy to fall not save upon the fortunate. So one day of the days, as he lingered in the Mosque after mid-afternoon prayer, he came forwards amidst the folk and cried, “O ye, my brethren of the Faith which is true and who bear testimony to the unity of the Deity, I would have you to weet that housed in this our quarter are two men which be strangers, and haply ye have heard of them how they lavish and waste immense sums of money, in fact moneys beyond measure, and for my part I cannot but suspect that they are cutpurses and brigands who commit robberies in their own country and who came hither to expend their spoils."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Imam in his jealousy of Zayn al-Asnam and Mubarak said to the congregation, “Verily they be brigands and cutpurses;” adding, “O believers of Mohammed, I counsel you in Allah’s name that ye guard yourselves against such accurseds; for haply the Caliph shall in coming times hear of these twain and ye also shall fall with them into calamity.50 I have hastened to caution you, and having warned you I wash my hands of your business, and after this do ye as ye judge fit.” All those present replied with one voice, “Indeed we will do whatso thou wishest us to do, O Abu Bakr!” But when the Imam heard this from them he arose and, bringing forth ink-case and reed-pen and a sheet of paper, began inditing an address to the Commander of the Faithful, recounting all that was against the two strangers. However, by decree of Destiny, Mubarak chanced to be in the Mosque amongst the crowd when he heard the address of the blameworthy Imam and how he purposed applying by letter to the Caliph. So he delayed not at all but returned home forthright and, taking an hundred dinars and packing up a parcel of costly clothes, silverwrought all, repaired in haste to the reverend’s quarters and knocked at the door. The preacher came and opened to him, but sighting Mubarak he asked him in anger, “What is’t thou wantest and who art thou?” Whereto the other answered, “I am Mubarak and at thy service, O my master the Imam Abu Bakr; and I come to thee from my lord the Emir Zayn al-Asnam who, hearing of and learning thy religious knowledge and right fair repute in this city, would fain make acquaintance with thy Worship and do by thee whatso behoveth him. Also he hath sent me to thee with these garments and this spending-money, hoping excuse of thee for that this be a minor matter compared with your Honour’s deserts; but, Inshallah, after this he will not fail in whatever to thee is due.” As soon as Abu Bakr saw the coin and gold51 and the bundle of clothes, he answered Mubarak saying, “I crave pardon, O my lord, of thy master the Emir for that I have been ashamed of waiting upon him and repentance is right hard upon me for that I have failed to do my devoir by him; wherefore I hope that thou wilt be my deputy in imploring him to pardon my default and, the Creator willing, to-morrow I will do what is incumbent upon me and fare to offer my services and proffer the honour which beseemeth me.” Rejoined Mubarak, “The end of my master’s wishes is to see thy worship, O my lord Abu Bakr, and be exalted by thy presence and therethrough to win a blessing.” So saying he bussed the reverend’s hand and returned to his own place. On the next day, as Abu Bakr was leading the dawn-prayer of Friday, he took his station amongst the folk amiddlemost the Mosque and cried, “O, our brethren the Moslems great and small and folk of Mohammed one and all, know ye that envy falleth not save upon the wealthy and praiseworthy and never descendeth upon the mean and miserable. I would have you wot, as regards the two strangers whom yesterday I misspake, that one of them is an Emir high in honour and son of most reputable parents, in lieu of being (as I was informed by one of his enviers) a cutpurse and a brigand. Of this matter I have made certain that ’tis a lying report, so beware lest any of you say aught against him or speak evil in regard to the Emir even as I heard yesterday; otherwise you will cast me and cast yourselves into the sorest of calamities with the Prince of True Believers. For a man like this of exalted degree may not possibly take up his abode in our city of Baghdad unbeknown to the Caliph."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Abu Bakr the Imam uprooted on such wise from the minds of men the evil which he had implanted by his own words thrown out against the Emir Zayn al-Asnam. But when he had ended congregational prayers and returned to his home, he donned his long gaberdine52 and made weighty his skirts and lengthened his sleeves, after which he took the road to the mansion of the Prince; and, when he went in, he stood up before the stranger and did him honour with the highmost distinction. Now Zayn al-Asnam was by nature conscientious albeit young in years; so he returned the Imam Abu Bakr’s civilities with all courtesy and, seating himself beside him upon his high-raised divan, bade bring for him ambergris’d53 coffee. Then the tables were spread for breakfast and the twain ate and drank their sufficiency, whereafter they fell to chatting like boon companions. Presently the Imam asked the Prince, saying, “O my lord Zayn al-Asnam, doth thy Highness design residing long in this our city of Baghdad?” and the other answered, “Yes indeed,54 O our lord the Imam; ’tis my intention to tarry here for a while until such time as my requirement shall be fulfilled.” The Imam enquired, “And what may be the requirement of my lord the Emir? Haply when I hear it I may devote my life thereto until I can fulfil it.” Quoth the Prince, “My object is to marry a maiden who must be comely exceedingly, aged fifteen years; pure, chaste, virginal, whom man hath never soiled and who during all her days never lusted for male kind: moreover, she must be unique for beauty and loveliness.” The Imam rejoined, “O my lord, this be a thing hard of finding indeed, hard exceedingly; but I know a damsel of that age who answereth to thy description. Her father, a Wazir who resigned succession and office of his own freewill, now dwelleth in his mansion jealously overwatching his daughter and her education; and I opine that this maiden will suit the fancy of thy Highness, whilst she will rejoice in an Emir such as thyself and eke her parents will be equally well pleased.” The Prince replied, “Inshallah, this damsel whereof thou speakest will suit me and supply my want, and the furtherance of my desire shall be at thy hands. But, O our lord the Imam, ’tis my wish first of all things to look upon her and see if she be pure or otherwise; and, as regarding her singular comeliness, my convicion is that thy word sufficeth and thine avouchment is veridical. Of her purity, however, even thou canst not bear sure and certain testimony in respect to that condition.” Asked the Imam, “How is it possible for you, O my lord the Emir, to learn from her face aught of her and her honour; also whether she be pure or not: indeed, if this be known to your Highness you must be an adept in physiognomy.55 However, if your Highness be willing to accompany me, I will bear you to the mansion of her sire and make you acquainted with him, so shal he set her before you."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith me may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Imam Abu Bakr took the Prince and passed with him into the mansion of the Wazir; and, when they entered, both salam’d to the housemaster and he rose and received them with greetings especially when he learned that an Emir had visited him and he understood from the Imam that Zayn al-Asnam inclined to wed his daughter. So he summoned her to his presence and she came, whereupon he bade her raise her face-veil; and, when she did his bidding, the Prince considered her and was amazed and perplexed at her beauty and loveliness, he never having seen aught that rivalled her in brightness and brilliancy. So quoth he in his mind, “Would to Heaven I could win a damsel like this, albeit this one be to me unlawful.” Thinking thus he drew forth the mirror from his pouch and considered her image carefully when, lo and behold! the crystal was bright and clean as virgin silver and when he eyed her semblance in the glass he saw it pure as a white dove’s. THen sent he forthright for the Kazi and witnesses and they knotted the knot and wrote the writ and the bride was duly throned. Presently the Prince took the Wazir his father-in-law into his own mansion, and to the young lady he sent a present of costly jewels and it was a notable marriage-festival, none like it was ever seen; no, never. Zayn al-Asnam applied himself to inviting the folk right royally and did honour due to Abu Bakr the Imam, giving him abundant gifts, and forwarded to the bride’s father offerings of notable rarities. As soon as the wedding ended, Mubarak said to the Prince, “O my lord, let us arise and wend our ways lest we lose our time in leisure, for that we sought is now found.” Said the Prince, “Right thou art;” and, arising with his companion, the twain fell to equipping them for travel and gat ready for the bride a covered litter56 to be carried by camels and they set out. Withal Mubarak well knew that the Prince was deep in love to the young lady. So he took him aside and said to him, “O my lord Zayn al-Asnam, I would warn thee and enjoin thee to keep watch and ward upon thy senses and passions and to observe and preserve the pledge by thee plighted to the King of the Jann.” “O Mubarak,” replied the Prince, “an thou knew the love-longing and ecstasy which have befallen me of my love to this young lady, thou wouldst feel ruth for me! indeed I never think of aught else save of taking her to Bassorah and of going in unto her.” Mubarak rejoined. “O my lord, keep thy faith and be not false to thy pact, lest a sore harm betide thee and the loss of thy life as well as that of the young lady.57 Remember the oath thou swarest nor suffer lust58 to lay thy reason low and despoil thee of all thy gains and thine honour and thy life.” “Do thou, O Mubarak,” retorted the Prince, “become warden over her nor allow me ever to look upon her."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak, after warning Zayn al-Asnam to protect the virgin-bride against himself, fell also to defending her as his deputy: also he prevented the Prince from even looking upon her. They then travelled along the road unto the Island of the Jann, after59 they had passed by the line leading unto Misr.60 But when the bride saw that the wayfare had waxed longsome nor had beheld her bridegroom for all that time since the wedding-night, she turned to Mubarak and said, “Allah upon thee; inform me, O Mubarak, by the life of thy lord the Emir, have we fared this far distance by commandment of my bridegroom Prince Zayn al-Asnam?” Said he, “Ah, O my lady, sore indeed is thy case to me, yet must I disclose to thee the secret thereof which be this. Thou imaginest that Zayn al-Asnam, the King of Bassorah, is thy bridegroom; but, alas! ’tis not so. He is no husband of thine; nay, the deed he drew up was a mere pretext in the presence of thy parents and thy people; and now thou art going as a bride to the King of the Jann who required thee of the Prince.” When the young lady heard these words, she fell to shedding tears and Zayn al-Asnam wept for her, weeping bitter tears from the excess of his love and affection. Then quoth the young lady, “Ye have nor pity in you nor feeling for me; neither fear ye aught of Allah that, seeing in me a stranger maiden ye cast me into a calamity like this. What reply shall ye return to the Lord on the Day of Reckoning for such treason ye work upon me?” However her words and her weeping availed her naught, for that they stinted not wayfaring with her until they reached the King of the Jann, to whom they forthright on arrival made offer of her. When he considered the damsel she pleased him, so he turned to Zayn al-Asnam and said to him, “Verily the bride thou broughtest me is exceeding beautiful and passing of loveliness; yet lovelier and more beautiful to me appear thy true faith and the mastery of thine own passions, thy marvellous purity and valiance of heart. So hie thee to thy home and the Ninth Statue, wherefor thou askedst me, by thee shall be found beside the other images, for I will send it by one of my slaves of the Jann.” Hereupon Zayn al-Asnam kissed his hand and marched back with Mubarak to Cairo, where he would not abide long with his companion, but, as soon as he was rested, of his extreme longing and anxious yearning to see the Ninth Statue, he hastened his travel homewards. Withal he ceased not to be thoughtful and sorrowful concerning his maiden-wife and on account of her beauty and loveliness, and he would fall to groaning and crying, “O for my lost joys whose cause wast thou, O singular in every charm and attraction, thou whom I bore away from thy parents and carried to the King of the Jann. Alas, and woe worth the day!"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Zayn al-Asnam fell to chiding himself for the deceit and treason which he had practised upon the young lady’s parents and for bringing and offering her to the King of the Jann. Then he set out nor ceased travelling till such time as he reached Bassorah, when he entered his palace; and, after saluting his mother, he apprised her of all things that had befallen him. She replied, “Arise, O my son, that we may look upon the Ninth Statue, for I rejoice with extreme joy at its being in our possession.” So both descended into the pavilion where stood the eight images of precious gems and here they found a mighty marvel. ’Twas this. In lieu of seeing the Ninth Statue upon the golden throne, they found seated thereon the young lady whose beauty suggested the sun. Zayn al-Asnam knew her at first sight and presently she addressed him saying, “Marvel not for that here thou findest me in place of that wherefor thou askedst; and I deem that thou shalt not regret nor repent when thou acceptest me instead of that thou soughtest.” Said he, “No, by Allah, O life-blood of my heart, verily thou art the end of every wish of me nor would I exchange thee for all the gems of the universe. Would thou knew what was the sorrow which surcharged me on account of our separation and of my reflecting that I took thee from thy parents by fraud and I bore thee as a present to the King of the Jann. Indeed I had well nigh determined to forfeit all my profit of the Ninth Statue and to bear thee away to Bassorah as my own bride, when my comrade and councillor dissuaded me from so doing lest I bring about my death and thy death.” Nor had Zayn al-Asnam ended his words ere they heard the roar of thunderings that would rend a mount and shake the earth, whereat the Queen-mother was seized with mighty fear and affright. But presently appeared the King of the Jinns who said to her, “O my lady, fear not! ’Tis I, the protector of thy son whom I fondly affect for the affection borne to me by his sire. I also am he who manifested myself to him in his sleep; and my object therein was to make trial of his valiance and to learn an he could do violence to his passions for the sake of his promise, or whether the beauty of this lady would so tempt and allure him that he could not keep his promise to me with due regard."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the waking hours of this our night,” and quoth Shahrazad:— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the King of the Jann said to the Queen-mother, “Indeed Zayn al-Asnam hath not kept faith and covenant with all nicety as regards the young lady, in that he longed for her to become his wife. However, I am assured that this lapse befel him from man’s natural and inherent frailty albeit I repeatedly enjoined him to defend and protect her until he concealed from her his face. I now accept61 this man’s valour and bestow her upon him to wife, for she is the Ninth Statue by me promised to him and she is fairer than all these jewelled images, the like of her not being found in the whole world of men save by the rarest of chances.” Then the King of the Jann turned to the Prince and said to him, “O Emir Zayn al-Asnam, this is thy bride: take her and enjoy her upon the one condition that thou love her only nor choose for thyself another one in addition to her; and I pledge myself that her faith theewards will be of the fairest.” Hereupon the King of the Jann disappeared and the Prince, gladdened and rejoicing, went forth with the maiden and for his love and affection to her he paid to her the first cermonious visit that same night62 and he made bride-feasts and banquets throughout his realm and in due time he formally wedded her and went in unto her. Then he stablished himself upon the throne of his kingship and ruled it, bidding and forbidding, and his consort became Queen of Bassorah. His mother left this life a short while afterwards and they both mourned and lamented their loss. Lastly he lived with his wife in all joyance of life till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Separator of societies. — And Shahrazad ceased to say her pleasant63 say. Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, how rare is thy tale and delectable!” whereto quoth Shahrazad, “And what is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night concerning Alaeddin64 and the Enchanted Lamp, an this my lord the King leave me on life?” The King said to himself, “By Allah, I will not slay her until she tell me the whole tale.”
Quoth Dunyazad,65 to Shahrazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales;” and Shahrazad began to relate the story of
8 THe old versions read “Ornament (Adornment?) of the Statues,” Zierde der Pildsäulen (Weil). I hold the name to be elliptical, Zayn (al-Din = Adornment of The Faith and owner of) al-Asnám = the Images. The omission of Al-Din in proper names is very common; e.g., Fakhr (Al-Din) Al-Iftakhári (Iftikhár-al-Din) and many others given by De Sacy (Chrest.i. 30, and in the Treatise on Coffee by Abdal-Kádir). So Al-Kamál, Al-Imád, Al-Baha are = Kamal al-Dín, etc. in Jbn Khallikan, iii 493. Sanam properly = an idol is popularly applied to all artificial figures of man and beast. I may note that we must not call the hero, after Galland’s fashion, unhappily adopted by Weil, tout bonnement “Zayn.”
9 Galland persistently writes “Balsorah,” a European corruption common in his day, the childhood of Orientalism in Europe. The Hindostani versions have “Bansrá,” which is worse.
10 For notes on Geomancy (Zarb Raml) see vol. iii. 269.
11 THe Hindostani Version enlarges upon this:—“Besides this, kings cannot escape perils and mishaps which serve as warnings and examples to them when dealing their decrees.”
12 In the XIXth century we should say “All the — ologies.”
13 In the Hindostani Version he begins by “breaking the seal which had been set upon the royal treasury.”
14 “Three things” (says Sa’di in the Gulistan) “lack permanency, Wealth without trading, Learning without disputation, Government without justice.” (chap. viii. max. 8). The Bakhtiyár-námeh adds that “Government is a tree whose root is legal punishment (Siyásat); its root-end is justice; its bough, mercy; its flower, wisdom; its leaf, liberality; and its fruit, kindness and benevolence. The foliage of every tree whose root waxeth dry (lacketh sap) taketh a yellow tint and beareth no fruit.”
15 For this word, see vol. ix. 108. It is the origin of the Fr. “Douane” and the Italian “Dogana” through the Spanish Aduana (Ad-Díwán) and the Provencal “Doana.” Ménage derives it from the Gr. {Greek text} = a place where goods are received, and others from “Doge” (Dux) for whom a tax on merchandise was levied at Venice. Littré (s.v.) will not decide, but rightly inclines to the Oriental origin.
16 A Hadis says, “The dream is the inspiration of the True Believer;” but also here, as the sequel shows, the Prince believed the Shaykh to be the Prophet, concerning whom a second Hadis declares, “Whoso seeth me in his sleep seeth me truly, for Satan may not assume my semblance.” See vol. iv. 287. The dream as an inspiration shows early in literature, e.g.
{Greek text}— (Il. i. 63). and {Greek text}— (Il. ii 55). in which the Dream is {Greek text}.
17 In the Hindostani Version he becomes a Pír = saint, spiritual guide.
18 A favourite sentiment. In Sir Charles Murray’s excellent novel, “Hassan: or, the Child of the Pyramid,” it takes the form, “what’s past is past and what is written is written and shall come to pass.”
19 In the H. V. the Prince digs a vat or cistern-shaped hole a yard deep. Under the ringed slab he also finds a door whose lock he breaks with his pickaxe and seeing a staircase of white marble lights a candle and reaches a room whose walls are of porcelain and its floor and ceiling are of crystal.
20 Arab. Khawábi (plur. of Khábiyah) large jars usually of pottery. In the H. V. four shelves of mother o’ pearl support ten jars of porphyry rangeed in rows and the Prince supposes (with Galland) that the contents are good old wine.
21 Arab. “‘Atík”: the superficial similiarity of the words have produced a new noun in Arabic, e.g. Abú Antíká = father of antiquities, a vendor of such articles mostly modern, “brand-new and intensely old.”
22 In the text “Ashkhás” (plural of Shakhs) vulgarly used, throughout India, Persia and other Moslem realms, in the sense of persons or individuals. For its lit. sig. see vols. iii. 26; and viii. 159. The H. V. follows Galland in changing to pedestals the Arab thrones, and makes the silken hanging a “piece of white satin” which covers the unoccupied base.
23 The blessed or well-omened: in these days it is mostly a servile name, e.g. Sidi Mubárak Bombay. See vol. ix. 58,330.
24 In the test “Mín” for “Man,” a Syro-Egyptian form common throughout this MS.
25 “Ay Ni’am,” an emphatic and now vulgar expression.
26 The MS. here has “‘Imárah” = a building, probably a clerical error for Maghárah,” a cave, a souterrain.
27 Arab, “Zahab-ramlí,” explained in “Alaeddin.” So Al-Mutanabbi sang:—
“I become not of them because homed in their ground:
Sandy earth is the gangue wherein gold is found.”
28 Walímah prop. = a marriage-feast. For the different kinds of entertainments see vols. vi. 74; viii. 231.
29 Arab. Mukattaí al-Yadayn, a servile posture: see vols. iii. 218; ix. 320.
30 Here the Arabic has the advantage of the English; “Shakhs” meaning either a person or an image. See supra, p. 11.
31 Arab. “Kawárijí = one who uses the paddle, a paddler, a rower.
32 In the Third Kalandar’s Tale (vol. i. 143) Prince ‘Ajíb is forbidden to call upon the name of Allah, under pain of upsetting the skiff paddled by the man of brass. Here the detail is omitted.
33 Arab. “Wahsh,” which Galland translates “Tiger,” and is followed by his Hind. translator.
34 Arab. “Laffa ‘l-isnayn bi-zulúmati-h,” the latter word = Khurtúm, the trunk of an elephant, from Zalm = the dewlap of sheep or goat.
35 In the text “Yámin,” a copyist’s error, which can mean nothing else but “Yasimín.”
36 The H. V. rejects this detail for “a single piece of mother-o’-pearl twelve yards long,” etc. Galland has une seule ecaille de poisson. In my friend M. Zotenberg’s admirable translation of Tabara (i. 52) we read of a bridge at Baghdad made of the ribs of Og bin ‘Unk (= Og of the Neck), the fabled King of Bashan.
37 I have noted that this is the primitive attire of Eastern man in all hot climates, and that it still holds its ground in that grand survival of heathenry, the Meccan Pilgrimage. In Galland the four strips are of taffetas jaune, the Hind. “Taftí.”
38 The word is Hizám = girdle, sash, waist-belt, which Galland turns into nappes. The object of the cloths edged with gems and gums was to form a barrier excluding hostile Jinns: the European magician usually drew a magic circle.
39 This is our corruption of the Malay Aigla = sandal wood. See vol. ix. 150.
40 Lit. = the Day of Assembly, “Yaum al-Mahshar.” These lines were translated at Cannes on Feb. 22n, 1886, the day before the earthquake which brought desolation upon the Riviera. It was a second curious coincidence. On Thursday, July 10th, 1863 — the morning when the great earthquake at Accra laid in ruins the town and the stout old fort built in the days of James II— I had been reading the Koranic chapter entitled “Earthquakes” (No. XCIX.) to some Moslem friends who had visited my quarters. Upwards of a decade afterwards I described teh accident in “Ocean Highways” (New Series, No. II., Vol. I, pp. 448-461), owned by Trubner & Co., and edited by my friend Clements Markham, and I only regret that this able Magazine has been extinguished by that dullest of Journals, “Porceedings of the R. S. S. and monthly record of Geography.”
41 Galland has un tremblement pareil à celui qu’Israfyel (Isráfíl) doit causer le jour du jugement.
42 The idea is Lady M. W. Montague’s (“The Lady’s Resolve.")
In part she is to blame that has been tried:
He comes too near that comes to be denied.
As an unknown correspondent warns me the sentiment was probably suggested by Sir Thomas Overbury (“A Wife.” St. xxxvi):—
— In part to blame is she
Which hath without consent bin only tride:
He comes too near that comes to be denide.
43 These highly compromising magical articles are of many kinds. The ballad of The Boy and the Mantle is familiar to all, how in the case of Sir Kay’s lady:—
When she had tane the mantle
With purpose for to wear;
It shrunk up to her shoulder
And left her backside bare.
Percy, Vol. I., i and Book III.
Percy derives the ballad from “Le Court Mantel,” an old French piece and Mr. Evans (Specimens of Welsh Poetry) from an ancient MS, of Tegan Earfron, one of Arthur’s mistresses, who possessed a mantle which would not fit immodest women. See also in Spenser, Queen Florimel’s Girdle (F.Q. iv. 5,3), and the detective is a horn in the Morte d’Arthur, translated from the French, temp. Edward IV., and first printed in A. D. 1484. The Spectator (No. 579) tells us “There was a Temple upon Mount Etna which was guarded by dogs of so exquisite a smell, that they could discover whether the Persons who came thither were chaste or not;” and that they caused, as might be expected, immense trouble. The test-article becomes in the Tuti-námeh the Tank of Trial at Agra; also a nosegay which remains fresh or withers; in the Kathá Sarit Ságara, the red lotus of Shiva; a shirt in Story lxix. Gesta Romanorum; a cup in Ariosto; a rose-garland in “The Wright’s Chaste WIfe,” edited by Mr. Furnival for the Early English Text Society; a magic picture in Bandello, Part I., No. 21; a ring in the Pentamerone, of Basile; and a distaff in “L’Adroite Princesse,” a French imitation of the latter.
44 Looking glasses in the East are mostly made, like our travelling mirrors, to open and shut.
45 In Eastern countries the oarsman stands to his work and lessens his labour by applying his weight which cannot be done so forcibly when sitting even upon the sliding-seat. In rowing as in swimming we have forsaken the old custom and have lost instead of gaining.
46 I have explained this word in vol. iii. 100; viii. 51, etc., and may add the interpretation of Mr. L. C. Casartelli (p. 17) “La Philosophie Religieuse du Mazdéisme, etc., Paris Maisonneuve, 1884.” “A divine name, which has succeeded little (?) is the ancient title Bagh, the O. P. Baga of the Cuneiforms (Baga vazraka Auramazda, etc.) and the Bagha of the Avesta, whose memory is preserved in Baghdad — the city created by the Gods (?). The Pahlevi books show the word in the compound Baghôbakht, lit. = what is granted by the Gods, popularly, Providence.”
47 The H. V. makes the old woman a “finished procuress whose skill was unrivalled in that profession.”
48 In the text “Al-Sádí w’al-Ghádí:” the latter may mean those who came for the morning meal.
49 An antistes, a leader in prayer (vols. ii. 203, and iv. 227); a reverend, against whom the normal skit is directed. The H. V. makes him a Muezzin, also a Mosque-man; and changes his name to Murad. Imám is a word with a host of meanings, e.g., model (and master), a Sir-Oracle, the Caliph, etc., etc.
50 i.e. being neighbours they would become to a certain extent answerable for the crimes committed within the quarter.
51 Arab. “Nakshat” and “Sifrat.”
52 Arab. “Farajíyah,” for which see vol. i. 210, 321.
53 For this aphrodisiac see vol. vi. 60.
54 In the text “Ay ni’am,” still a popular expression.
55 Arab. “‘Ilm al-Híah,” gen. translated Astrology, but here meaning scientific Physiognomy. All these branches of science, including Palmistry, are nearly connected; the features and the fingers, mounts, lines, etc. being referred to the sun, moon and planets.
56 Arab. “Mihaffah bi-takhtrawán”: see vols. ii. 180; v. 175.
57 The H. V. is more explicit: “do not so, or the King of the Jann will slay thee even before thou canst enjoy her and will carry her away.”
58 Arab. “Shahwah” the rawest and most direct term. The Moslem religious has no absurd shame of this natural passion. I have heard of a Persian Imam, who, suddenly excited as he was sleeping in a friend’s house, awoke the master with, “Shahwah dáram” = “I am lustful” and was at once gratified by a “Mut’ah,” temporary and extempore marriage to one of the slave-girls. These morganatic marriages are not, I may note, allowed to the Sunnis.
59 Arab. “Min ba’di an” for “Min ba’di má” = after that, still popular in the latter broad form.
60 The word has been used in this tale with a threefold sense Egypt, old Cairo (Fostat) and new Cairo, in fact to the land and to its capital for the time being.
61 Arab. “Kabbaltu” = I have accepted, i.e., I accept emphatically. Arabs use this form in sundry social transactions, such as marriages, sales, contracts, bargains, and so forth, to denote that the engagement is irrevocable and that no change can be made. De Sacy neglected to note this in his Grammar, but explains it in his Chrestomathy (i. 44, 53), and rightly adds that the use of this energetic form peut-être serait susceptible d’applications plus étendues.
162 La nuit de l’entrée, say the French: see Lane “Leylet ed-dukhlah” (M.E. chapt. vi.).
63 This MS. uses “Miláh” (pleasant) for “Mubáh” (permitted). I must remark, before parting with Zayn al-Asnam, that its object is to inculcate that the price of a good wife is “far above rubies” (Prov. xxxi. 10: see the rest of this fine chapter), a virtuous woman being “a crown to her husband” (ibid. xxii. 4); and “a prudent wife is from the Lord” (Prov. xix. 4). The whole tale is told with extreme delicacy and the want of roughness and energy suggests a European origin.
64 i.e. the “Height or Glory (‘Alá) of the Faith (al-Dín)” pron. Aláaddeen; which is fairly represented by the old form “Aladdin;” and better by De Sacy’s “Ala-eddin.” The name has occurred in The Nights, vol. iv. 29-33; it is a household word in England and who has not heard of THomas Hood’s “A-lad-in?” Easterns write it in five different ways and in the Paris MS. it is invariably “‘Alí al-dín,” which is a palpable mistake. The others are (1) ‘Alá al-Dín, (2) ‘Alá yadín, (3) ‘Alah Dín in the H. V. and (4) ‘Aláa al-Dín (with the Hamzah), the last only being grammatical. In Galland the Histoire de la Lampe merveilleuse is preceded by the Histoire du Dormeur Eveillé which, being “The Story of Abú al-Hasan the Wag, or the Sleeper awakened,” of the Bresl. Edit. (Nights cclxxi.-ccxc.), is here omitted. The Alaeddin Story exists in germ in Tale ii. of the “Dravidian Nights Entertainments,” (Madana Kamara-Sankádáj), by Pandit S. M. Natisa Shastri (Madras, 1868, and London, Trübner). We are told by Mr. Coote that it is well represented in Italy. The Messina version is by Pittè, “La Lanterna Magica,” also the Palermitan “Lanterne;” it is “Il Matrimonio di Cajussi” of Rome (R. H. Busk’s Folk-lore); “Il Gallo e il Mago,” of Visentini’s “Fiabe Mantovane,” and the “Pesciolino,” and “Il Contadino che aveva tre Fígli,” of Imbriana. In “La Fanciulla c il Mago,” of De Gubernatis (“Novelline di Sante Stefano de Calcenaja,” p. 47), occurs the popular incident of the original. “The Magician was not a magician for nothing. He feigned to be a hawker and fared through the streets, crying out, ‘Donne, donne, chi baratta anelli di ferro contra anelli di argento?’”
Alaeddin has ever been a favourite with the stage. Early in the present century it was introduced to the Parisian opera by M. Etienne, to the Feydeau by Théaulon’s La Clochette: to the Gymnase by La Petite-Lampe of M. Scribe and Melesville, and to teh Panorama Dramatique by MM. Merle, Cartouche and Saintine (Gauttier, vii. 380).
65 This MS. always uses Dínárzád like Galland.
It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that there dwelt in a city of the cities of China a man which was a tailor, withal a pauper, and he had one son, Alaeddin hight. Now this boy had been from his babyhood a ne’er-do-well, a scapegrace; and, when he reached his tenth year, his father inclined to teach him his own trade; and, for that he was over indigent to expend money upon his learning other work or craft or apprenticeship, he took the lad into his shop that he might be taught tailoring. But, as Alaeddin was a scapegrace and a ne’er-do-well and wont to play at all times with the gutter boys of the quarter, he would not sit in the shop for a single day; nay, he would await his father’s leaving it for some purpose, such as to meet a creditor, when he would run off at once and fare forth to the gardens with the other scapegraces and low companions, his fellows. Such was his case; counsel and castigation were of no avail, nor would he obey either parent in aught or learn any trade; and presently, for his sadness and sorrowing because of his son’s vicious indolence, the tailor sickened and died. Alaeddin continued in his former ill courses and, when his mother saw that her spouse had deceased, and that her son was a scapegrace and good for nothing at all66 she sold the shop and whatso was to be found therein and fell to spinning cotton yarn. By this toilsome industry she fed herself and found food for her son Alaeddin the scapegrace who, seeing himself freed from bearing the severities of his sire, increased in idleness and low habits; nor would he ever stay at home save at meal-hours while his miserable wretched mother lived only by what her hands could spin until the youth had reached his fifteenth year. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when Alaeddin had come to his fifteenth year, it befel, one day of the days, that as he was sitting about the quarter at play with the vagabond boys behold, a Darwaysh from the Maghrib, the Land of the Setting Sun, came up and stood gazing for solace upon the lads and he looked hard at Alaeddin and carefully considered his semblance, scarcely noticing his companions the while. Now this Darwaysh was a Moorman from Inner Marocco and he was a magician who could upheap by his magic hill upon hill, and he was also an adept in astrology. So after narrowly considering Alaeddin he said in himself, “Verily, this is the lad I need and to find whom I have left my natal land.” Presently he led one of the children apart and questioned him anent the scapegrace saying, “Whose67 son is he?” And he sought all information concerning his condition and whatso related to him. After this he walked up to Alaeddin and drawing him aside asked, “O my son, haply thou art the child of Such-an-one the tailor?” and the lad answered, “Yes, O my lord, but ’tis long since he died.” The Maghrabi,68 the Magician, hearing these words threw himself upon Alaeddin and wound his arms around his neck and fell to bussing him, weeping the while with tears trickling adown his cheeks. But when the lad saw the Moorman’s case he was seized with surprise thereat and questioned him, saying, “What causeth thee weep, O my lord: and how camest thou to know my father?” “How canst thou, O my son,” replied the Moorman, in a soft voice saddened by emotion, “question me with such query after informing me that thy father and my brother is deceased; for that he was my brother-german and now I come from my adopted country and after long exile I rejoiced with exceeding joy in the hope of looking upon him once more and condoling with him over the past; and now thou hast announced to me his demise. But blood hideth not from blood69 and it hath revealed to me that thou art my nephew, son of my brother, and I knew thee amongst all the lads, albeit thy father, when I parted from him, was yet unmarried."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, said to the tailor’s orphan, “O my son Alaeddin and I have now failed in the mourning ceremonies and have lost the delight I expected from meeting thy father, my brother, whom after my long banishment I had hoped to see once more ere I die; but far distance wrought me this trouble nor hath the creature aught of asylum from the Creator or artifice against the commandments of Allah Al-mighty.” Then he again clasped Alaeddin to his bosom crying, “O my son, I have none to condole with now save thyself; and thou standest in stead of thy sire, thou being his issue and representative and ‘whoso leaveth issue dieth not,’70 O my child!” So saying, the Magician put hand to purse and pulling out ten gold pieces gave them to the lad asking, “O my son, where is your house and where dwelleth she, thy mother, and my brother’s widow?” Presently Alaeddin arose with him and showed him the way to their home and meanwhile Quoth the Wizard, “O my son, take these moneys and give them to thy mother, greeting her from me, and let her know that thine uncle, thy father’s brother, hath reappeared from his exile and that Inshallah -God willing- on the morrow I will visit her to salute her with the salam and see the house wherein my brother was homed and look upon the place where he lieth buried.” Thereupon Alaeddin kissed the Maghrabi’s hand, and, after running in his joy at fullest speed to his mother’s dwelling, entered to her clean contrariwise to his custom, inasmuch as he never came near her save at meal-times only. And when he found her, the lad exclaimed in his delight, “O my mother, I give thee glad tidings of mine uncle who hath returned from his exile and who now sendeth me to salute thee.” “O my son,” she replied, “meseemeth thou mockest me! Who is this uncle and how canst thou have an uncle in the bonds of life?” He rejoined, “How sayest thou, O my mother, that I have nor living uncles nor kinsmen, when this man is my father’s own brother? Indeed he embraced me and bussed me, shedding tears the while, and bade me acquaint thee herewith.” She retorted, “O my son, well I wot thou haddest an uncle, but he is now dead nor am I ware that thou hast other eme."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maroccan Magician fared forth next morning and fell to finding out Alaeddin, for his heart no longer permitted him to part from the lad; and, as he was to-ing and fro-ing about the city-highways, he came face to face with him disporting himself, as was his wont, amongst the vagabonds and the scapegraces. So he drew near to him and, taking his hand, embraced him and bussed him, then pulled out of his poke two dinars and said, “Hie thee to thy mother and give her these couple of ducats and tell her that thine uncle would eat the evening-meal with you; so do thou take these two gold pieces and prepare for us a succulent supper. But before all things show me once more the way to your home.” “On my head and mine eyes be it, O my uncle,” replied the lad and forewent him, pointing out the street leading to the house. Then the Moorman left him and went his ways and Alaeddin ran home and, giving the news and the two sequins to his parent, said, “My uncle would sup with us.” So she arose straightway and going to the market-street bought all she required; then, returning to her dwelling she borrowed from the neighbours whatever was needed of pans and platters and so forth and when the meal was cooked and supper time came she said to Alaeddin “O my child, the meat is ready but peradventure thine uncle wotteth not the way to our dwelling; so do thou fare forth and meet him on the road.” He replied, “To hear is to obey,” and before the twain ended talking a knock was heard at the door. Alaeddin went out and opened when, behold, the Maghrabi, the Magician, together with an eunuch carrying the wine and the dessert fruits; so the lad led them in and the slave went about his business. The Moorman on entering saluted his sister-in-law with the salami then began to shed tears and to question her saying, “Where be the place whereon my brother went to sit?” She showed it to him, whereat he went up to it and prostrated himself in prayer71 and kissed the floor crying, “Ah, how scant is my satisfaction and how luckless is my lot, for that I have lost thee, O my brother, O vein of my eye!” And after such fashion he continued weeping and wailing till he swooned away for excess of sobbing and lamentation; wherefor Alaeddin’s mother was certified of his soothfastness. So coming up to him she raised him from the floor and said, “What gain is there in slaying thyself?"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin’s mother began consoling the Maghrabi, the Magician, and placed him upon the divan; and, as soon as he was seated at his ease and before the food-trays were served up, he fell to talking with her and saying, “O wife of my brother, it must be a wonder to thee how in all thy days thou never sawest me nor learnedst thou aught of me during the life-time of my brother who hath found mercy.72 Now the reason is that forty years ago I left this town and exiled myself from my birth-place and wandered forth over all the lands of Al-Hind and Al-Sind and entered Egypt and settled for a long time in its magnificent city,73 which is one of the world-wonders, till at last I fared to the regions of the Setting Sun and abode for a space of thirty years in the Maroccan interior. Now one day of the days, O wife of my brother, as I was sitting alone at home, I fell to thinking of mine own country and of my birth place and of my brother (who hath found mercy); and my yearning to see him waxed excessive and I bewept and bewailed my strangerhood and distance from him. And at last my longings drave me home-wards until I resolved upon travelling to the region which was the falling-place of my head74 and my homestead, to the end that I might again see my brother. Then Quoth I to myself, ‘O man,75 how long wilt thou wander like a wild Arab from thy place of birth and native stead? Moreover, thou hast one brother and no more; so up with thee and travel and look upon him76 ere thou die; for who wotteth the woes of the world and the changes of the days? ’Twould be saddest regret an thou lie down to die without beholding thy brother and Allah (laud be to the Lord!) hath vouchsafed thee ample wealth; and belike he may be straitened and in poor case, when thou wilt aid thy brother as well as see him.’ So I arose at once and equipped me for wayfare and recited the Fátihah; then, whenas Friday prayers ended, I mounted and travelled to this town, after suffering manifold toils and travails which I patiently endured whilst the Lord (to whom be honour and glory!) veiled me with the veil of His protection. So I entered and whilst wandering about the streets, the day before yesterday, I beheld my brother’s son Alaeddin disporting himself with the boys and, by God the Great, O wife of my brother, the moment I saw him this heart of mine went forth to him (for blood yearneth unto blood!), and my soul felt and informed me that he was my very nephew. So I forgot all my travails and troubles at once on sighting him and I was like to fly for joy; but, when he told me of the dear one’s departure to the ruth of Allah Almighty, I fainted for stress of distress and disappointment. Perchance, however, my nephew hath informed thee of the pains which prevailed upon me; but after a fashion I am consoled by the sight of Alaeddin the legacy bequeathed to us by him who hath found mercy for that ‘whoso leaveth issue is not wholly dead.’”77— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, said to Alaeddin’s mother, “Whoso leaveth issue is not wholly dead.” And when he looked at his sister-in-law she wept at these his words; so he turned to the lad that he might cause her forget the mention of her mate, as a means of comforting her and also of completing his deceit, and asked him, saying, “O my son Alaeddin what hast thou learned in the way of work and what is thy business? Say me, hast thou mastered any craft whereby to earn a livelihood for thyself and for thy mother?” The lad was abashed and put to shame and he hung down his head and bowed his brow groundwards; but his parent spake out, “How, forsooth? By Allah, he knoweth nothing at all, a child so ungracious as this I never yet saw; no, never! All the day long he idleth away his time with the sons of the quarter, vagabonds like himself, and his father (O regret of me!) died not save of dolour for him. And I also am now in piteous plight: I spin cotton and toil at my distaff, night and day, that I may earn a couple of scones of bread which we eat together. This is his condition, O my brother-in-law; and, by the life of thee, he cometh not near me save at meal-times and none other. Indeed, I am thinking to lock the house-door nor ever open to him again but leave him to go and seek a livelihood whereby he can live, for that I am now grown a woman in years and have no longer strength to toil and go about for a maintenance after this fashion. O Allah, I am compelled to provide him with daily bread when I require to be provided!” Hereat the Moorman turned to Alaeddin and said, “Why is this, O son of my brother, thou goest about in such ungraciousness? ’tis a disgrace to thee and unsuitable for men like thyself. Thou art a youth of sense, O my son, and the child of honest folk, so ’tis for thee a shame that thy mother, a woman in years, should struggle to support thee. And now that thou hast grown to man’s estate it becometh thee to devise thee some device whereby thou canst live, O my child. Look around thee and Alhamdolillah — praise be to Allah — in this our town are many teachers of all manner of crafts and nowhere are they more numerous; so choose thee some calling which may please thee to the end that I establish thee therein; and, when thou growest up, O my son, thou shalt have some business whereby to live. Haply thy father’s industry may not be to thy liking; and, if so it be, choose thee some other handicraft which suiteth thy fancy; then let me know and I will aid thee with all I can, O my son.” But when the Maghrabi saw that Alaeddin kept silence and made him no reply, he knew that the lad wanted none other occupation than a scapegrace-life, so he said to him, “O son of my brother, let not my words seem hard and harsh to thee, for, if despite all I say, thou still dislike to learn a craft, I will open thee a merchant’s store78 furnished with costliest stuffs and thou shalt become famous amongst the folk and take and give and buy and sell and be well known in the city.” Now when Alaeddin heard the words of his uncle the Moorman, and the design of making him a Khwájah79— merchant and gentleman — he joyed exceedingly knowing that such folk dress handsomely and fare delicately. So he looked at the Maghrabi smiling and drooping his head groundwards and saying with the tongue of the case that he was content. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, looked at Alaeddin and saw him smiling, whereby he understood that the lad was satisfied to become a trader. So he said to him, “Since thou art content that I open thee a merchant’s store and make thee a gentleman, do thou, O son of my brother, prove thyself a man and Inshallah — God willing — to-morrow I will take thee to the bazar in the first place and will have a fine suit of clothes cut out for thee, such gear as merchants wear; and, secondly, I will look after a store for thee and keep my word.” Now Alaeddin’s mother had somewhat doubted the Maroccan being her brother-in-law; but as soon as she heard his promise of opening a merchant’s store for her son and setting him up with stuffs and capital and so forth, the woman decided and determined in her mind that this Maghrabi was in very sooth her husband’s brother, seeing that no stranger man would do such goodly deed by her son. So she began directing the lad to the right road and teaching him to cast ignorance from out his head and to prove himself a man; moreover she bade him ever obey his excellent uncle as though he were his son and to make up for the time he had wasted in frowardness with his fellows. After this she arose and spread the table, then served up supper; so all sat down and fell to eating and drinking, while the Maghrabi conversed with Alaeddin upon matters of business and the like, rejoicing him to such degree that he enjoyed no sleep that night. But when the Moorman saw that the dark hours were passing by, and the wine was drunken, he arose and sped to his own stead; but, ere going, he agreed to return next morning and take Alaeddin and look to his suit of merchant’s clothes being cut out for him. And as soon as it was dawn, behold, the Maghrabi rapped at the door which was opened by Alaeddin’s mother: the Moorman, however, would not enter, but asked to take the lad with him to the market-street. Accordingly Alaeddin went forth to his uncle and, wishing him good morning, kissed his hand; and the Maroccan took him by the hand and fared with him to the Bazar. There he entered a clothier’s shop containing all kinds of clothes and called for a suit of the most sumptuous; whereat the merchant brought him out his need, all wholly fashioned and ready sewn, and the Moorman said to the lad, “Choose, O my child, whatso pleaseth thee.” Alaeddin rejoiced exceedingly seeing that his uncle had given him his choice, so he picked out the suit most to his own liking and the Maroccan paid to the merchant the price thereof in ready money. Presently he led the lad to the Hammám-baths where they bathed; then they came out and drank sherbets, after which Alaeddin arose and, donning his new dress in huge joy and delight, went up to his uncle and kissed his hand and thanked him for his favours. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It has reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, after leaving the Hammám with Alaeddin, took him and trudged with him to the Merchants’ bazar; and, having diverted him by showing the market and its sellings and buyings, said to him, “O my son, it besitteth thee to become familiar with the folk, especially with the merchants, so thou mayest learn of them merchant-craft, seeing that the same hath now become thy calling.” Then he led him forth and showed him the city and its cathedral-mosques together with all the pleasant sights therein; and, lastly, made him enter a cook’s shop. Here dinner was served to them on platters of silver and they dined well and ate and drank their sufficiency, after which they went their ways. Presently the Moorman pointed out to Alaeddin the pleasances and noble buildings, and went in with him to the Sultan’s Palace and diverted him with displaying all the apartments which were mighty fine and grand; and led him finally to the Khán of stranger merchants where he himself had his abode. Then the Maroccan invited sundry traders which were in the Caravanserai; and they came and sat down to supper, when he notified to them that the youth was his nephew, Alaeddin by name. And after they had eaten and drunken and night had fallen, he rose up and taking the lad with him led him back to his mother, who no sooner saw her boy as he were one of the merchants80 than her wits took flight and she waxed sad for very gladness. Then she fell to thanking her false connection, the Moorman, for all his benefits and said to him, “O my brother-in-law, I can never say enough though I expressed my gratitude to thee during the rest of thy days and praised thee for the good deeds thou hast done by this my child.” Thereupon Quoth the Maroccan, “O wife of my brother, deem this not mere kindness of me, for that the lad is mine own son and ’tis incumbent on me to stand in the stead of my brother, his sire. So be thou fully satisfied!” And Quoth she, “I pray Allah by the honour of the Hallows, the ancients and the moderns, that He preserve thee and cause thee to continue, O my brother-in-law and prolong for me thy life; so shalt thou be a wing over-shadowing this orphan lad; and he shall ever be obedient to thine orders nor shall he do aught save whatso thou biddest him thereunto.” The Maghrabi replied, “O wife of my brother, Alaeddin is now a man of sense and the son of goodly folk, and I hope to Allah that he will follow in the footsteps of his sire and cool thine eyes. But I regret that, to-morrow being Friday, I shall not be able to open his shop, as ’tis meeting day when all the merchants, after congregational prayer, go forth to the gardens and pleasances. On the Sabbath,81 however, Inshallah! — an it please the Creator — we will do our business. Meanwhile to-morrow I will come to thee betimes and take Alaeddin for a pleasant stroll to the gardens and pleasances without the city which haply he may hitherto not have beheld. There also he shall see the merchants and notables who go forth to amuse themselves, so shall he become acquainted with them and they with him."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi went away and lay that night in his quarters; and early next morning he came to the tailor’s house and rapped at the door. Now Alaeddin (for stress of his delight in the new dress he had donned and for the past day’s enjoyment in the Hammam and in eating and drinking and gazing at the folk; expecting furthermore his uncle to come at dawn and carry him off on pleasuring to the gardens) had not slept a wink that night, nor closed his eyelids, and would hardly believe it when day broke. But hearing the knock at the door he went out at once in hot haste, like a spark of fire, and opened and saw his uncle, the Magician, who embraced him and kissed him. Then, taking his hand, the Moorman said to him as they fared forth together, “O son of my brother, this day will I show thee a sight thou never sawest in all thy life,” and he began to make the lad laugh and cheer him with pleasant talk. So doing they left the city-gate, and the Maroccan took to promenading with Alaeddin amongst the gardens and to pointing out for his pleasure the mighty fine pleasances and the marvellous high-builded82 pavilions. And whenever they stood to stare at a garth or a mansion or a palace the Maghrabi would say to his companion, “Doth this please thee, O son of my brother?” Alaeddin was nigh to fly with delight at seeing sights he had never seen in all his born days; and they ceased not83 to stroll about and solace themselves until they waxed aweary, when they entered a mighty grand garden which was nearhand, a place that the heart delighted and the sight belighted; for that its swift-running rills flowed amidst the flowers and the waters jetted from the jaws of lions moulded in yellow brass like unto gold. So they took seat over against a lakelet and rested a little while, and Alaeddin enjoyed himself with joy exceeding and fell to jesting with his uncle and making merry with him as though the Magician were really his father’s brother. Presently the Maghrabi arose and loosing his girdle drew forth from thereunder a bag full of victual, dried fruits and so forth, saying to Alaeddin, “O my nephew, haply thou art become anhungered; so come forward and eat what thou needest.” Accordingly the lad fell upon the food and the Moorman ate with him and they were gladdened and cheered by rest and good cheer. Then Quoth the Magician, “Arise, O son of my brother, an thou be reposed and let us stroll onwards a little and reach the end of our walk.” Thereupon Alaeddin arose and the Maroccan paced with him from garden to garden until they left all behind them and reached the base of a high and naked hill; when the lad who, during all his days, had never issued from the city-gate and never in his life had walked such a walk as this, said to the Maghrabi, “O uncle mine, whither are we wending? We have left the gardens behind us one and all and have reached the barren hill-country;84 and, if the way be still long, I have no strength left for walking: indeed I am ready to fall with fatigue. There are no gardens before us, so let us hark back and return to town.” Said the Magician, “No, O my son; this is the right road, nor are the gardens ended for we are going to look at one which hath ne’er its like amongst those of the Kings and all thou hast beheld are naught in comparison therewith. Then gird thy courage to walk; thou art now a man, Alhamdolillah — praise be to Allah!” Then the Maghrabi fell to soothing Alaeddin with soft words and telling him wondrous tales, lies as well as truth, until they reached the site intended by the African Magician who had travelled from the Sunset-land to the regions of China for the sake thereof. And when they made the place, the Moorman said to Alaeddin, “O son of my brother, sit thee down and take thy rest, for this is the spot we are now seeking and, Inshallah, soon will I divert thee by displaying marvel-matters whose like not one in the world ever saw; nor hath any solaced himself with gazing upon that which thou art about to behold."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi wizard said to Alaeddin, “No one of created beings hath enjoyed the sights thou art about to see. But when thou art rested, arise and seek some wood-chips and fuel sticks85 which be small and dry, wherewith we may kindle a fire: then will I show thee, O son of my brother, matters beyond the range of matter.”86 Now, when the lad heard these words, he longed to look upon what his uncle was about to do and, forgetting his fatigue, he rose forthright and fell to gathering small wood-chips and dry sticks, and continued until the Moorman cried to him, “Enough, O son of my brother!” Presently the Magician brought out from his breast-pocket a casket which he opened, and drew from it all he needed of incense; then he fumigated and conjured and adjured, muttering words none might understand. And the ground straightway clave asunder after thick gloom and quake of earth and bellowings of thunder. Hereat Alaeddin was startled and so affrighted that he tried to fly; but, when the African Magician saw his design, he waxed wroth with exceeding wrath, for that without the lad his work would profit him naught, the hidden hoard which he sought to open being not to be opened save by means of Alaeddin. So noting this attempt to run away, the Magician arose and raising his hand smote Alaeddin on the head a buffet so sore that well nigh his back-teeth were knocked out, and he fell swooning to the ground. But after a time he revived by the magic of the Magician, and cried, weeping the while, “O my uncle, what have I done that deserveth from thee such a blow as this?” Hereat the Maghrabi fell to soothing him, and said, “O my son, ’tis my intent to make thee a man; therefore, do thou not gainsay me, for that I am thine uncle and like unto thy father. Obey me, therefore, in all I bid thee, and shortly thou shalt forget all this travail and toil whenas thou shalt look upon the marvel-matters I am about to show thee.” And soon after the ground had cloven asunder before the Maroccan it displayed a marble slab wherein was fixed a copper ring. The Maghrabi, striking a geomantic table87 turned to Alaeddin, and said to him, “An thou do all I shall bid thee, indeed thou shalt become wealthier than any of the kings, and for this reason, O my son, I struck thee, because here lieth a hoard which is stored in thy name; and yet thou designedst to leave it and to levant. But now collect thy thoughts, and behold how I opened earth by my spells and adjurations."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, said to Alaeddin, “O my son, now collect thy thoughts! under yon stone wherein the ring is set lieth the treasure wherewith I acquainted thee: so set thy hand upon the ring and raise the slab, for that none other amongst the folk, thyself excepted, hath power to open it, nor may any of mortal birth, save thyself, set foot within this Enchanted Treasury which hath been kept for thee. But ’tis needful that thou learn of me all wherewith I would charge thee; nor gainsay e’en a single syllable of my words. All this, O my child, is for thy good; the hoard being of immense value, whose like the kings of the world never accumulated, and do thou remember that ’tis for thee and me.” So poor Alaeddin forgot his fatigue and buffet and tear-shedding, and he was dumbed and dazed at the Maghrabi’s words and rejoiced that he was fated to become rich in such measure that not even the Sultans would be richer than himself. Accordingly, he cried, “O my uncle, bid me do all thou pleasest, for I will be obedient unto thy bidding.” The Maghrabi replied, “O my nephew, thou art to me as my own child and even dearer, for being my brother’s son and for my having none other kith and kin except thyself; and thou, O my child, art my heir and successor.” So saying, he went up to Alaeddin and kissed him and said, “For whom do I intend these my labours? Indeed, each and every are for thy sake, O my son, to the end that I may leave thee a rich man and one of the very greatest. So gainsay me not in all I shall say to thee, and now go up to yonder ring and uplift it as I bade thee.” Alaeddin answered, “O uncle mine, this ring is over heavy for me: I cannot raise it single-handed, so do thou also come forward and lend me strength and aidance towards uplifting it, for indeed I am young in years.” The Moorman replied, “O son of my brother, we shall find it impossible to do aught if I assist thee, and all our efforts would be in vain. But do thou set thy hand upon the ring and pull it up, and thou shalt raise the slab forth-right, and in very sooth I told thee that none can touch it save thyself. But whilst haling at it cease not to pronounce thy name and the names of thy father and mother, so ’twill rise at once to thee nor shalt thou feel its weight.” Thereupon the lad mustered up strength and girt the loins of resolution and did as the Maroccan had bidden him, and hove up the slab with all ease when he pronounced his name and the names of his parents, even as the Magician had bidden him. And as soon as the stone was raised he threw it aside. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that after Alaeddin had raised the slab from over the entrance to the Hoard there appeared before him a Sardáb, a souterrain, whereunto led a case of some twelve stairs and the Maghrabi said, “O Alaeddin, collect thy thoughts and do whatso I bid thee to the minutest detail nor fail in aught thereof. Go down with all care into yonder vault until thou reach the bottom and there shalt thou find a space divided into four halls,88 and in each of these thou shalt see four golden jars89 and others of virgin or and silver. Beware, however, lest thou take aught therefrom or touch them, nor allow thy gown or its skirts even to brush the jars or the walls. Leave them and fare forwards until thou reach the fourth hall without lingering for a single moment on the way; and, if thou do aught contrary thereto thou wilt be at once transformed and become a black stone. When reaching the fourth hall thou wilt find therein a door which do thou open, and pronouncing the names thou spakest over the slab, enter there through into a garden adorned everywhere with fruit-bearing trees. This thou must traverse by a path thou wilt see in front of thee measuring some fifty cubits long, beyond which thou wilt come upon an open saloon90 and therein a ladder of some thirty rungs. And thou shalt also see hanging from its ceiling”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, fell to teaching Alaeddin how he should descend into the Hoard and continued, “On reaching the saloon thou shalt there find a Lamp hanging from its ceiling; so mount the ladder and take that Lamp and place it in thy breast-pocket after pouring out its contents; nor fear evil from it for thy clothes because its contents are not common oil.91 And on return thou art allowed to pluck from the trees whatso thou pleasest, for all is thine so long as the Lamp is in thy hand.” Now when the Moorman ended his charge to Alaeddin, he drew off a seal-ring92 and put it upon the lad’s forefinger saying, “O my son, verily this signet shall free thee from all hurt and fear which may threaten thee, but only on condition that thou bear in mind all I have told thee.93 So arise straightway and go down the stairs, strengthening thy purpose and girding the loins of resolution: moreover fear not for thou art now a man and no longer a child. And in shortest time, O my son, thou shalt win thee immense riches and thou shalt become the wealthiest of the world.” Accordingly, Alaeddin arose and descended into the souterrain, where he found the four halls, each containing four jars of gold and these he passed by, as the Maroccan had bidden him, with the utmost care and caution. Thence he fared into the garden and walked along its length until he entered the saloon, where he mounted the ladder and took the Lamp which he extinguished, pouring out the oil which was therein, and placed it in his breast-pocket. Presently, descending the ladder he returned to the garden where he fell to gazing at the trees whereupon sat birds glorifying with loud voices their great Creator. Now he had not observed them as he went in, but all these trees bare for fruitage costly gems; moreover each had its own kind of growth and jewels of its peculiar sort; and these were of every colour, green and white; yellow, red and other such brilliant hues and the radiance flashing from these gems paled the rays of the sun in forenoon sheen. Furthermore the size of each stone so far surpassed description that no King of the Kings of the world owned a single gem equal to the larger sort nor could boast of even one half the size of the smaller kind of them. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin walked amongst the trees and gazed upon them and other things which surprised the sight and bewildered the wits; and, as he considered them, he saw that in lieu of common fruits the produce was of mighty fine jewels and precious stones,94 such as emeralds and diamonds; rubies, spinels and balasses, pearls and similar gems astounding the mental vision of man. And forasmuch as the lad had never beheld things like these during his born days nor had reached those years of discretion which would teach him the worth of such valuables (he being still but a little lad), he fancied that all these jewels were of glass or crystal. So he collected them until he had filled his breast-pockets and began to certify himself if they were or were not common fruits, such as grapes, figs and such like edibles. But seeing them of glassy substance, he, in his ignorance of precious stones and their prices, gathered into his breast-pockets every kind of growth the trees afforded; and, having failed of his purpose in finding them food, he said in his mind, “I will collect a portion of these glass fruits for playthings at home.” So he fell to plucking them in quantities and cramming them in his pokes and breast-pockets till these were stuffed full; after which he picked others which he placed in his waist-shawl and then, girding himself therewith, carried off all he availed to, purposing to place them in the house by way of ornaments and, as hath been mentioned, never imagining that they were other than glass. Then he hurried his pace in fear of his uncle, the Maghrabi, until he had passed through the four halls and lastly on his return reached the souterrain where he cast not a look at the jars of gold, albeit he was able and allowed to take of the contents on his way back. But when he came to the souterrain-stairs95 and clomb the steps till naught remained but the last; and, finding this higher than all the others, he was unable alone and unassisted, burthened moreover as he was, to mount it. So he said to the Maghrabi, “O my uncle, lend me thy hand and aid me to climb;” but the Moorman answered, “O my son, give me the Lamp and lighten thy load; belike ’tis that weigheth thee down.” The lad rejoined, “O my uncle, ’tis not the Lamp downweigheth me at all; but do thou lend me a hand and as soon as I reach ground I will give it to thee.” Hereat the Maroccan, the Magician, whose only object was the Lamp and none other, began to insist upon Alaeddin giving it to him at once; but the lad (forasmuch as he had placed it at the bottom of his breast-pocket and his other pouches being full of gems bulged outwards)96 could not reach it with his fingers to hand it over, so the wizard after much vain persistency in requiring what his nephew was unable to give, fell to raging with furious rage and to demanding the Lamp whilst Alaeddin could not get at it. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin could not get at the Lamp so as to hand it to his uncle the Maghrabi, that false felon, so the Magician waxed foolish with fury for that he could not win to his wish. Yet had the lad promised truthfully that he would give it up as soon as he might reach ground, without lying thought or ill-intent. But when the Moorman saw that he would not hand it over, he waxed wroth with wrath exceeding and cut off all his hopes of winning it; so he conjured and adjured and cast incense amiddlemost the fire, when forthright the slab made a cover of itself, and by the might of magic ridded the entrance; the earth buried the stone as it was aforetime and Alaeddin, unable to issue forth, remained underground. Now the Sorcerer was a stranger, and, as we have mentioned, no uncle of Alaeddin’s, and he had misrepresented himself and preferred a lying claim, to the end that he might obtain the Lamp by means of the lad for whom his Hoard had been upstored. So the Accursed heaped the earth over him and left him to die of hunger. For this Maghrabi was an African of Afrikíyah proper, born in the Inner Sunset-land, and from his earliest age upwards he had been addicted to witchcraft and had studied and practiced every manner of occult science, for which unholy lore the city of Africa97 is notorious. And he ceased not to read and hear lectures until he had become a past-master in all such knowledge. And of the abounding skill in spells and conjurations which he had acquired by the perusing and the lessoning of forty years, one day of the days he discovered by devilish inspiration that there lay in an extreme city of the cities of China, named Al-Kal’ás,98 an immense Hoard, the like whereof none of the Kings in this world had ever accumulated: moreover, that the most marvellous article in this Enchanted Treasure was a wonderful Lamp which, whoso possessed, could not possibly be surpassed by any man upon earth, either in high degree or in wealth and opulence; nor could the mightiest monarch of the universe attain to the all-sufficiency of this Lamp with its might of magical means. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales.” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Maghrabi assured himself by his science and saw that this Hoard could be opened only by the presence of a lad named Alaeddin, of pauper family and abiding in that very city, and learnt how taking it would be easy and without hardships, he straightway and without stay or delay equipped himself for a voyage to China (as we have already told) and he did what he did with Alaeddin fancying that he would become Lord of the Lamp. But his attempt and his hopes were baffled and his work was clean wasted; whereupon, determining to do the lad die, he heaped up the earth over him by gramarye to the end that the unfortunate might perish, reflecting that “The live man hath no murtherer.”99 Secondly, he did so with the design that, as Alaeddin could not come forth from underground, he would also be impotent to bring out the Lamp from the souterrain. So presently he wended his ways and retired to his own land, Africa, a sadder man and disappointed of all his expectations. Such was the case with the Wizard; but as regards Alaeddin when the earth was heaped over him, he began shouting to the Moorman whom he believed to be his uncle, and praying him to lend a hand that he might issue from the souterrain and return to earth’s surface; but, however loudly he cried, none was found to reply. At that moment he comprehended the sleight which the Maroccan had played upon him, and that the man was no uncle but a liar and a wizard. Then the unhappy despaired of life, and learned to his sorrow that there was no escape for him; so he fell to beweeping with sore weeping the calamity had befallen him; and after a little while he stood up and descended the stairs to see if Allah Almighty had lightened his grief-load by leaving a door of issue. So he turned him to the right and to the left but he saw naught save darkness and four walls closed upon him, for that the Magician had by his magic locked all the doors and had shut up even the garden, wherethrough the lad erst had passed, lest it offer him the means of issuing out upon earth’s surface, and that he might surely die. Then Alaeddin’s weeping waxed sorer, and his wailing louder whenas he found all the doors fast shut, for he had thought to solace himself awhile in the garden. But when he felt that all were locked, he fell to shedding tears and lamenting like unto one who hath lost his every hope, and he returned to sit upon the stairs of the flight whereby he had entered the souterrain. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin sat down upon the stair of the vault weeping and wailing and wanting all hopes. But it is a light matter for Allah (be He exalted and extolled!) whenas He designeth aught to say, “Be” and it becometh; for that He createth joy in the midst of annoy; and on this wise it was with Alaeddin. Whilst the Maghrabi, the Magician, was sending him down into the souterrain he set upon his finger by way of gift, a seal ring and said, “Verily, this signet shall save thee from every strait an thou fall into calamity and ill shifts of time; and it shall remove from thee all hurt and harm, and aid thee with a strong arm whereso thou mayest be set.”100 Now this was by destiny of God the Great, that it might be the means of Alaeddin’s escape; for whilst he sat wailing and weeping over his case and cast away all hope of life, and utter misery overwhelmed him, he rubbed his hands together for excess of sorrow, as is the wont of the woeful; then, raising them in supplication to Allah, he cried, “I testify that there is no God save Thou alone, The Most Great, the Omnipotent, the All-Conquering, Quickener of the dead, Creator of man’s need and Granter thereof, Resolver of his difficulties and duresse and Bringer of joy not of annoy. Thou art my sufficiency and Thou art the Truest of Trustees. And I bear witness that Mohammed is Thy servant and Thine Apostle and I supplicate Thee, O my God, by his favour with Thee to free me from this my foul plight.” And whilst he implored the Lord and was chafing his hands in the soreness of his sorrow for that had befallen him of calamity, his fingers chanced to rub the Ring when, lo and behold! forthright its Familiar rose upright before him and cried, “Adsum; thy slave between thy hands is come! Ask whatso thou wantest, for that I am the thrall of him on whose hand is the Ring, the Signet of my lord and master.” Hereat the lad looked at him and saw standing before him a Márid like unto an Ifrít101 of our lord Solomon’s Jinns. He trembled at the terrible sight; but, hearing the Slave of the Ring say, “Ask whatso thou wantest, verily, I am thy thrall, seeing that the signet of my lord be upon thy finger,” he recovered his spirits and remembered the Moorman’s saying when giving him the Ring So he rejoiced exceedingly and became brave and cried, “Ho thou; Slave of the Lord of the Ring, I desire thee to set me upon the face of earth.” And hardly had he spoken this speech when suddenly the ground clave asunder and he found himself at the door of the Hoard and outside it in full view of the world. Now for three whole days he had been sitting in the darkness of the Treasury underground and when the sheen of day and the thine of sun smote his face he found himself unable to keep his eyes open; so he began to unclose the lids a little and to close them a little until his eyeballs regained force and got used to the light and were purged of the noisome murk. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell me some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin, issuing from the Treasury, opened his eyes after a short space of time and saw himself upon earth’s surface, the which rejoiced him exceedingly, and withal he was astounded at finding himself without the Hoard-door whereby he had passed in when it was opened by the Maghrabi, the Magician; especially as the adit had been lidded and the ground had been smoothed, showing no sign whatever of entrance. Thereat his surprise increased until he fancied himself in another place, nor was his mind convinced that the stead was the same until he saw the spot whereupon they had kindled the fire of wood-chips and dried sticks, and where the African Wizard had conjured over the incense. Then he turned him rightwards and leftwards and sighted the gardens from afar and his eyes recognized the road whereby he had come. So he returned thanks to Allah Almighty who had restored him to the face of earth and had freed him from death after he had cut off all hopes of life. Presently he arose and walked along the way to the town, which now he well knew, until he entered the streets and passed on to his own home. Then he went in to his mother and on seeing her, of the overwhelming stress of joy at his escape and the memory of past affright and the hardships he had borne and the pangs of hunger, he fell to the ground before his parent in a fainting-fit. Now his mother had been passing sad since the time of his leaving her and he found her moaning and crying about him; however on sighting him enter the house she joyed with exceeding joy, but soon was overwhelmed with woe when he sank upon the ground swooning before her eyes. Still,102 she did not neglect the matter or treat it lightly, but at once hastened to sprinkle water upon his face and after she asked of the neighbours some scents which she made him snuff up. And when he came round a little, he prayed her to bring him somewhat of food saying, “O my mother ’tis now three days since I ate anything at all.” Thereupon she arose and brought him what she had by her; then, setting it before him, said, “Come forward, O my son; eat and be cheered103 and, when thou shalt have rested, tell me what hath betided and affected thee, O my child; at this present I will not question thee for thou art aweary in very deed."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell me some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin ate and drank and was cheered and after he had rested and had recovered spirits he cried, “Ah, O my mother, I have a sore grievance against thee for leaving me to that accursed wight who strave to compass my destruction and designed to take my life.104 Know that I beheld Death with mine own eyes at the hand of this damned wretch, whom thou didst certify to be my uncle; and, had not Almighty Allah rescued me from him, I and thou, O my mother, had been cozened by the excess of this Accursed’s promises to work my welfare, and by the great show of affection which he manifested to us. Learn, O my mother, that this fellow is a sorcerer, a Moorman, an accursed, a liar, a traitor, a hypocrite;105 nor deem I that the devils under the earth are damnable as he. Allah abase him in his every book! Hear then, O my mother, what this abominable one did, and all I shall tell thee will be soothfast and certain. See how the damned villain brake every promise he made, certifying that he would soon work all good with me; and do thou consider the fondness which he displayed to me and the deeds which he did by me; and all this only to win his wish, for his design was to destroy me; and Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord — for my deliverance. Listen and learn, O my mother, how this Accursed entreated me.” Then Alaeddin informed his mother of all that had befallen him (weeping the while for stress of gladness); how the Maghrabi had led him to a hill wherein was hidden the Hoard and how he had conjured and fumigated, adding,106 “After which, O my mother, mighty fear get hold of me when the hill split and the earth gaped before me by his wizardry; and I trembled with terror at the rolling of thunder in mine ears and the murk which fell upon us when he fumigated and muttered spells. Seeing these horrors I in mine affright designed to fly; but, when he understood mine intent he reviled me and smote me a buffet so sore that it caused me to swoon. However, inasmuch as the Treasury was to be opened only by means of me, O my mother, he could not descend therein himself, it being in my name and not in his; and, for that he is an ill-omened magician, he understood that I was necessary to him and this was his need of me."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell me some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin acquainted his mother with all that had befallen him from the Maghrabi, the Magician, and said, “After he had buffetted me, he judged it advisable to soothe me in order that he might send me down into the Enchanted Treasury; and first he drew from his finger a Ring which he placed upon mine. So I descended and found four halls all full of gold and silver which counted as naught, and the Accursed had charged me not to touch aught thereof. Then I entered a mighty fine flower-garden everywhere bedecked with tall trees whose foliage and fruitage bewildered the wits, for all, O my mother, were of vari-coloured glass, and lastly I reached the Hall wherein hung this Lamp. So I took it straightway and put it out107 and poured forth its contents.” And so saying Alaeddin drew the Lamp from his breast-pocket and showed it to his mother, together with the gems and jewels which he had brought from the garden; and there were two large bag-pockets full of precious stones, whereof not one was to be found amongst the kings of the world. But the lad knew naught anent their worth deeming them glass or crystal; and presently he resumed, “After this, O mother mine, I reached the Hoard-door carrying the Lamp and shouted to the accursed Sorcerer, which called himself my uncle, to lend me a hand and hale me up, I being unable to mount of myself the last step for the over weight of my burthen. But he would not and said only, ‘First hand me the Lamp!’ As, however, I had placed it at the bottom of my breast-pocket and the other pouches bulged out beyond it, I was unable to get at it and said, ‘O my uncle, I cannot reach thee the Lamp, but I will give it to thee when outside the Treasury.’ His only need was the Lamp and he designed, O my mother, to snatch it from me and after that slay me, as indeed he did his best to do by heaping the earth over my head. Such then is what befel me from this foul Sorcerer.” Hereupon Alaeddin fell to abusing the Magician in hot wrath and with a burning heart and crying, “Well-away! I take refuge from this damned wight, the ill-omened, the wrongdoer, the for-swearer, the lost to all humanity, the arch-traitor, the hypocrite, the annihilator of ruth and mercy."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when Alaeddin’s mother heard his words and what had befallen him from the Maghrabi, the Magician, she said, “Yea, verily, O my son, he is a miscreant, a hypocrite who murthereth the folk by his magic; but ’twas the grace of Allah Almighty, O my child, that saved thee from the tricks and the treachery of this accursed Sorcerer whom I deemed to be truly thine uncle.”108 Then, as the lad had not slept a wink for three days and found himself nodding, he sought his natural rest, his mother doing on like wise; nor did he awake till about noon on the second day. As soon as he shook off slumber he called for somewhat of food being sore anhungered, but said his mother, “O my son, I have no victual for thee inasmuch as yesterday thou atest all that was in the house. But wait patiently a while: I have spun a trifle of yarn which I will carry to the market-street and sell it and buy with what it may be worth some victual for thee.” “O my mother,” said he, “keep your yarn and sell it not; but fetch me the Lamp I brought hither that I may go vend it and with its price purchase provaunt, for that I deem ’twill bring more money than the spinnings.” So Alaeddin’s mother arose and fetched the Lamp for her son; but, while so doing, she saw that it was dirty exceedingly; so she said, “O my son, here is the Lamp, but ’tis very foul: after we shall have washed it and polished it ’twill sell better.” Then, taking a handful of sand she began to rub therewith, but she had only begun when appeared to her one of the Jánn whose favour was frightful and whose bulk was horrible big, and he was gigantic as one of the Jabábirah.109 And forthright he cried to her, “Say whatso thou wantest of me? Here am I, thy Slave and Slave to whoso holdeth the Lamp; and not I alone, but all the Slaves of the Wonderful Lamp which thou hendest in hand.” She quaked and terror was sore upon her when she looked at that frightful form and her tongue being tied she could not return aught reply, never having been accustomed to espy similar semblances. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin’s mother could not of her terror return a reply to the Márid; nay she fell to the ground oppressed by her affright.110 Now her son was standing afar off and he had already seen the Jinní of the Ring which he had rubbed within the Treasury; so when he heard the Slave speaking to his parent, he hastened forwards and snatching the Lamp from her hand, said, “O Slave of the Lamp, I am unhungered and ’tis my desire that thou fetch me somewhat to eat and let it be something toothsome beyond our means.” The Jinni disappeared for an eye-twinkle and returned with a mighty fine tray and precious of price, for that ’twas all in virginal silver and upon it stood twelve golden platters of meats manifold and dainties delicate, with bread snowier than snow; also two silvern cups and as many black jacks111 full of wine clear-strained and long-stored. And after setting all these before Alaeddin, he evanished from vision. Thereupon the lad went and sprinkled rose water upon his mother’s face and caused her snuff up perfumes pure and pungent and said to her when she revived, “Rise, O mother mine, and let us eat of these meats wherewith Almighty Allah hath eased our poverty.” But when she saw that mighty fine silvern tray she fell to marvelling at the matter and Quoth she, “O my son, who be this generous, this beneficent one who hath abated our hunger-pains and our penury? We are indeed under obligation to him and, meseemeth, ’tis the Sultan who, hearing of our mean condition and our misery, hath sent us this food tray.” Quoth he, “O my mother, this be no time for questioning: arouse thee and let us eat for we are both a-famished.” Accordingly, they sat down to the tray and fell to feeding when Alaeddin’s mother tasted meats whose like in all her time she had never touched; so they devoured them with sharpened appetites and all the capacity engendered by stress of hunger; and, secondly, the food was such that marked the tables of the Kings. But neither of them knew whether the tray was or was not valuable, for never in their born days had they looked upon aught like it. As soon as they had finished the meal (withal leaving victual enough for supper and eke for the next day), they arose and washed their hands and sat at chat, when the mother turned to her son and said, “Tell me, O my child, what befel thee from the Slave, the Jinní, now that Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord! — we have eaten our full of the good things wherewith He hath favoured us and thou hast no pretext for saying to me, ‘I am anhungered.’ “ So Alaeddin related to her all that took place between him and the Slave what while she had sunk upon the ground aswoon for sore terror; and at this she, being seized with mighty great surprise, said, “ ’tis true; for the Jinns do present themselves before the Sons of Adam112 but I, O my son, never saw them in all my life and meseemeth that this be the same who saved thee when thou west within the Enchanted Hoard.” “This is not he, O my mother: this who appeared before thee is the Slave of the Lamp!” “Who may this be, O my son?” “This be a Slave of sort and shape other than he; that was the Familiar of the Ring and this his fellow thou sawest was the Slave of the Lamp thou hentest in hand."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin said, “Verily, O my mother, the Jinni who appeared to thee was the Slave of the Lamp.” And when his parent heard these words she cried, “There! there!113 so this Accursed, who showed himself to me and went nigh unto killing me with affright, is attached to the Lamp.” “Yes,” he replied, and she rejoined, “Now I conjure thee, O my son, by the milk wherewith I suckled thee, to throw away from thee this Lamp and this Ring; because they can cause us only extreme terror and I especially can never abear a second glance at them. Moreover all intercourse with them is unlawful, for that the Prophet (whom Allah save and assain!) warned us against them with threats.” He replied, “Thy commands, O my mother, be upon my head114 and mine eyes; but, as regards this saying thou saidest, ’tis impossible that I part or with Lamp or with Ring. Thou thyself hast seen what good the Slave wrought us whenas we were famishing; and know, O my mother, that the Maghrabi, the liar, the Magician, when sending me down into the Hoard, sought nor the silver nor the gold wherewith the four halls were fulfilled, but charged me to bring him only the Lamp (naught else), because in very deed he had learned its priceless value; and, had he not been certified of it, he had never endured such toil and trouble nor had he travelled from his own land to our land in search thereof; neither had he shut me up in the Treasury when he despaired of the Lamp which I would not hand to him. Therefore it besitteth us, O my mother, to keep this Lamp and take all care thereof nor disclose its mysteries to any; for this is now our means of livelihood and this it is shall enrich us. And likewise as regards the Ring, I will never withdraw it from my finger inasmuch as but for this thou hadst nevermore seen me on life nay I should have died within the Hoard underground. How then can I possibly remove it from my finger? And who wotteth that which may betide me by the lapse of Time, what trippings or calamities or injurious mishaps wherefrom this Ring may deliver me? However, for regard to thy feelings I will stow away the Lamp nor ever suffer it to be seen of thee hereafter.” Now when his mother heard his words and pondered them she knew they were true and said to him, “Do, O my son, whatso thou wiliest for my part I wish never to see them nor ever sight that frightful spectacle I erst saw."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be not sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin and his mother continued eating of the meats brought them by the Jinni for two full told days till they were finished; but when he learned that nothing of food remained for them, he arose and took a platter of the platters which the Slave had brought upon the tray. Now they were all of the finest gold but the lad knew naught thereof; so he bore it to the Bazar and there, seeing a man which was a Jew, a viler than the Satans,115 offered it to him for sale. When the Jew espied it he took the lad aside that none might see him, and he looked at the platter and considered it till he was certified that it was of gold refined. But he knew not whether Alaeddin was acquainted with its value or he was in such matters a raw laddie,116 so he asked him, “For how much, O my lord, this platter?” and the other answered, “Thou wottest what be its worth.” The Jew debated with himself as to how much he should offer, because Alaeddin had returned him a craftsman-like reply; and he thought of the smallest valuation; at the same time he feared lest the lad, haply knowing its worth, should expect a considerable sum. So he said in his mind, “Belike the fellow is an ignoramous in such matters nor is ware of the price of the platter.” Whereupon he pulled out of his pocket a diner, and Alaeddin eyed the gold piece lying in his palm and hastily taking it went his way; whereby the Jew was certified of his customer’s innocence of all such knowledge, and repented with entire repentance that he had given him a golden diner in lieu of a copper carat,117 a bright-polished groat. However, Alaeddin made no delay but went at once to the baker’s where he bought him bread and changed the ducat; then, going to his mother, he gave her the scones and the remaining small coin and said, “O my mother, hie thee and buy thee all we require.” So she arose and walked to the Bazar and laid in the necessary stock; after which they ate and were cheered. And whenever the price of the platter was expended, Alaeddin would take another and carry it to the accursed Jew who bought each and every at a pitiful price; and even this he would have minished but, seeing how he had paid a diner for the first, he feared to offer a lesser sum, lest the lad go and sell to some rival in trade and thus lose his usurious gains. Now when all the golden platters were sold, there remained only the silver tray whereupon they stood; and, for that it was large and weighty, Alaeddin brought the Jew to his house and produced the article, when the buyer, seeing its size gave him ten dinars and these being accepted went his ways. Alaeddin and his mother lived upon the sequins until they were spent; then he brought out the Lamp and rubbed it and straightway appeared the Slave who had shown himself aforetime. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Jinni, the Slave of the Lamp, on appearing to Alaeddin said, “Ask, O my lord, whatso thou wantest for I am thy Slave and the thrall of whoso hath the Lamp;” and said the lad, “I desire that thou bring me a tray of food like unto that thou broughtest me erewhiles, for indeed I am famisht.” Accordingly, in the glance of an eye the Slave produced a similar tray supporting twelve platters of the most sumptuous, furnished with requisite cates; and thereon stood clean bread and sundry glass bottles118 of strained wine. Now Alaeddin’s mother had gone out when she knew he was about to rub the Lamp that she might not again look upon the Jinni; but after a while she returned and, when she sighted the tray covered with silvern119 platters and smelt the savour of the rich meats diffused over the house, she marvelled and rejoiced. Thereupon Quoth he, “Look, O my mother! Thou badest me throw away the Lamp, see now its virtues;” and Quoth she, “O my son, Allah increase his120 weal, but I would not look upon him.” Then the lad sat down with his parent to the tray and they ate and drank until they were satisfied; after which they removed what remained for use on the morrow. As soon as the meats had been consumed, Alaeddin arose and stowed away under his clothes a platter of the platters and went forth to find the Jew, purposing to sell it to him; but by fiat of Fate he passed by the shop of an ancient jeweller, an honest man and a pious who feared Allah. When the Shaykh saw the lad, he asked him saying, “O my son, what dost thou want? for that times manifold have I seen thee passing hereby and having dealings with a Jewish man; and I have espied thee handing over to him sundry articles; now also I fancy thou hast somewhat for sale and thou seekest him as a buyer thereof. But thou wottest not, O my child, that the Jews ever hold lawful to them the good of Moslems,121 the Confessors of Allah Almighty’s unity, and, always defraud them; especially this accursed Jew with whom thou hast relations and into whose hands thou hast fallen. If then, O my son, thou have aught thou wouldest sell show the same to me and never fear, for I will give thee its full price by the truth of Almighty Allah.” Thereupon Alaeddin brought out the platter which when the ancient goldsmith saw, he took and weighed it in his scales and asked the lad saying, “Was it the fellow of this thou soldest to the Jew?” “Yes, its fellow and its brother,” he answered, and Quoth the old man, “What price did he pay thee?” Quoth the lad, “One diner."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the ancient goldsmith, hearing from Alaeddin how the Jew used to give only one diner as the price of the platter, cried, “Ah! I take refuge from this Accursed who cozeneth the servants of Allah Almighty!” Then, looking at the lad, he exclaimed, “O my son, verily yon tricksy Jew hath cheated thee and laughed at thee, this platter being pure silver and virginal. I have weighed it and found it worth seventy diners; and, if thou please to take its value, take it.” Thereupon the Shaykh counted out to him seventy gold pieces, which he accepted and presently thanked him for his kindness in exposing the Jew’s rascality. And after this, whenever the price of a platter was expended, he would bring another, and on such wise he and his mother were soon in better circumstances; yet they ceased not to live after their olden fashion as middle class folk122 without spending on diet overmuch or squandering money. But Alaeddin had now thrown off the ungraciousness of his boyhood; he shunned the society of scapegraces and he began to frequent good men and true, repairing daily to the market-street of the merchants and there companying with the great and the small of them, asking about matters of merchandise and learning the price of investments and so forth; he likewise frequented the Bazars of the Goldsmiths and the Jewellers123 where he would sit and divert himself by inspecting their precious stones and by noting how jewels were sold and bought therein. Accordingly, he presently became ware that the tree-fruits, wherewith he had filled his pockets what time he entered the Enchanted Treasury, were neither glass nor crystal but gems rich and rare; and he understood that he had acquired immense wealth such as the Kings never can possess. He then considered all the precious stones which were in the Jewellers’ Quarter, but found that their biggest was not worth his smallest. On this wise he ceased not every day repairing to the Bazar and making himself familiar with the folk and winning their loving will;124 and enquiring anent selling and buying, giving and taking, the dear and the cheap, until one day of the days when, after rising at dawn and donning his dress he went forth, as was his wont, to the Jewellers’ Bazar; and, as he passed along it he heard the crier crying as follows: “By command of our magnificent master, the King of the Time and the Lord of the Age and the Tide, let all the folk lock up their shops and stores and retire within their houses, for that the Lady Badr al-Budur,125 daughter of the Sultan, designeth to visit the Hammám; and whoso gainsayeth the order shall be punished with death-penalty and be his blood upon his own neck!” But when Alaeddin heard the proclamation, he longed to look upon the King’s daughter and said in his mind, “Indeed all the lieges talk of her beauty and loveliness and the end of my desires is to see her."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will.”— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin fell to contriving some means whereby he might look upon the Princess Badr al-Budur and at last judged best to take his station behind the Hammam door whence he might see her face as she entered.126 Accordingly, without stay or delay he repaired to the Baths before she was expected and stood a-rear of the entrance, a place whereat none of the folk happened to be looking. Now when the Sultan’s daughter had gone the rounds of the city and its main streets and had solaced herself by sight-seeing, she finally reached the Hammam and whilst entering she raised her veil, when her face rose before sight as it were a pearl of price or a sheeny sun, and she was as one of whom the describer sang,
“Magic Kohl enchanteth the glances so bright of her:
We pluck roses in posies from cheeks rosy bright of her:
Of night’s gloomiest hue is the gloom of the hair of her
And her bright brow uplighteth the murks of the night of her.”127
(Quoth the reciter) when the Princess raised from her face the veil and Alaeddin saw her favour he said, “In very truth her fashion magnifieth her Almighty Fashioner and glory be to Him who created her and adorned her with this beauty and loveliness.” His strength was struck down from the moment he saw her and his thoughts were distraught; his gaze was dazed, the love of her get hold of the whole of his heart; and, when he returned home to his mother, he was as one in ecstasy. His parent addressed him, but he neither replied nor denied; and, when she set before him the morning meal he continued in like case; so Quoth she, “O my son, what is’t may have befallen thee? Say me, doth aught ail thee? Let me know what ill hath betided thee for, unlike thy custom, thou speakest not when I bespeak thee.” Thereupon Alaeddin (who used to think that all women resembled his mother128 and who, albeit he had heard of the charms of Badr al-Budur, daughter of the Sultan, yet knew not what “beauty” and “loveliness” might signify) turned to his parent and exclaimed, “Let me be!” However, she persisted in praying him to come forwards and eat, so he did her bidding but hardly touched food; after which he lay at full length on his bed all the night through in cogitation deep until morning morrowed. The same was his condition during the next day, when his mother was perplexed for the case of her son and unable to learn what had happened to him. So, thinking that belike he might be ailing she drew near him and asked him saying, “O my son, an thou sense aught of pain or such like, let me know that I may fare forth and fetch thee the physician; and to-day there be in this our city a leech from the Land of the Arabs whom the Sultan hath sent to summon and the bruit abroad reporteth him to be skillful exceedingly. So, an be thou ill let me go and bring him to thee."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin, hearing his parent’s offer to summon the mediciner, said, “O my mother, I am well in body and on no wise ill. But I ever thought that all women resembled thee until yesterday, when I beheld the Lady Badr al-Budur daughter of the Sultan, as she was faring for the Baths.” Then he related to her all and everything that had happened to him adding, “Haply thou also hast heard the crier a-crying, ‘Let no man open shop or stand in street that the Lady Badr al-Budur may repair to the Hammam without eye seeing her.’ But I have looked upon her even as she is, for she raised her veil at the door and, when I viewed her favour and beheld that noble work of the Creator, a sore fit of ecstasy, O my mother, fell upon me for love of her and firm resolve to win her hath opened its way into every limb of me, nor is repose possible for me except I win her. Wherefor I purpose asking her to wife from the Sultan her sire in lawful wedlock.” When Alaeddin’s mother heard her son’s words, she belittled his wits and cried, “O my child, the name of Allah upon thee! meseemeth thou hast lost thy senses. But be thou rightly guided, O my son, nor be thou as the men Jinn-maddened!” He replied, “Nay, O mother mine, I am not out of my mind nor am I of the maniacs; nor shall this thy saying alter one jot of what is in my thoughts, for rest is impossible to me until I shall have won the dearling of my heart’s core, the beautiful Lady Badr al-Budur. And now I am resolved to ask her of her sire the Sultan.” She rejoined, “O my son, by my life upon thee speak not such speech, lest any overhear thee and say thou be insane: so cast away from thee such nonsense! Who shall undertake a matter like this or make such request to the King? Indeed, I know not how, supposing this thy speech to be soothfast, thou shalt manage to crave such grace of the Sultan or through whom thou desirest to propose it.” He retorted, “Through whom shall I ask it, O my mother, when thou art present? And who is there fonder and more faithful to me than thyself? So my design is that thou thy self shalt proffer this my petition.” Quoth she, “O my son, Allah remove me far therefrom! What! have I lost my wits like thyself? Cast the thought away and a long way from thy heart. Remember whose son thou art, O my child, the orphan boy of a tailor, the poorest and meanest of the tailors toiling in this city; and I, thy mother, am also come of pauper folk and indigent. How then durst thou ask to wife the daughter of the Sultan, whose sire would not deign marry her with the sons of the Kings and the Sovrans, except they were his peers in honour and grandeur and majesty; and, were they but one degree lower, he would refuse his daughter to them."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin took patience until his parent had said her say, when Quoth he, “O my mother, everything thou hast called to mind is known to me; moreover ’tis thoroughly well known to me that I am the child of pauper parents; withal do not these words of thee divert me from my design at all, at all Nor the less do I hope of thee, an I be thy son and thou truly love me, that thou grant me this favour, otherwise thou wilt destroy me; and present Death hovereth over my head except I win my will of my heart’s dearling; and I, O my mother, am in every case thy child.” Hearing these words, his parent wept of her sorrow for him and said, “O my child! Yes, in very deed I am thy mother, nor have I any son or life’s blood of my liver except thyself, and the end of my wishes is to give thee a wife and rejoice in thee. But suppose that I would seek a bride of our likes and equals, her people will at once ask an thou have any land or garden, merchandise or handicraft, wherewith thou canst support her; and what is the reply I can return? Then, if I cannot possibly answer the poor like ourselves, how shall I be bold enough, O my son, to ask for the daughter of the Sultan of China-land who hath no peer or behind or before him? Therefore do thou weigh this matter in thy mind. Also who shall ask her to wife for the son of a snip? Well indeed I wot that my saying aught of this kind will but increase our misfortunes; for that it may be the cause of our incurring mortal danger from the Sultan; peradventure even death for thee and me. And, as concerneth myself, how shall I venture upon such rash deed and perilous, O my son? and in what way shall I ask the Sultan for his daughter to be thy wife; and, indeed, how ever shall I even get access to him? And should I succeed therein, what is to be my answer an they ask me touching thy means? Haply the King will hold me to be a madwoman. And, lastly, suppose that I obtain audience of the Sultan, what offering is there I can submit to the King’s majesty?”129— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales;” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin’s mother continued to her son, “ ’tis true, O my child, that the Sultan is mild and merciful, never rejecting any who approach him to require justice or ruth or protection, nor any who pray him for a present; for he is liberal and lavisheth favour upon near and far. But he dealeth his boons to those deserving them, to men who have done some derring-do in battle under his eyes or have rendered as civilians great service to his estate. But thou! do thou tell me what feat thou hast performed in his presence or before the public that thou meritest from him such grace? And, secondly, this boon thou ambitionest is not for one of our condition, nor is it possible that the King grant to thee the bourne of thine aspiration; for whoso goeth to the Sultan and craveth of him a favour, him it besitteth to take in hand somewhat that suiteth the royal majesty, as indeed I warned thee aforetime. How, then, shalt thou risk thyself to stand before the Sultan and ask his daughter in marriage, when thou hast with thee naught to offer him of that which beseemeth his exalted station?” Hereto Alaeddin replied, “O my mother, thou speakest to the point and hast reminded me aright and ’tis meet that I revolve in mind the whole of thy remindings. But, O my mother, the love of Princess Badr al-Budur hath entered into the core of my heart; nor can I rest without I win her. However, thou hast also recalled to me a matter which I forgot and ’tis this emboldeneth me to ask his daughter of the King. Albeit thou, O my mother, declarest that I have no gift which I can submit to the Sultan, as is the wont of the world, yet in very sooth I have an offering and a present whose equal, O my mother, I hold none of the Kings to possess; no, nor even aught like it."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin said to his mother, “Because verily that which I deemed glass or crystal was nothing but precious stones and I hold that all the Kings of the World have never possessed any thing like one of the smallest thereof. For, by frequenting the jeweller-folk, I have learned that they are the costliest gems and these are what I brought in my pockets from the Hoard, whereupon, an thou please, compose thy mind. We have in our house a bowl of China porcelain; so arise thou and fetch it, that I may fill it with these jewels, which thou shalt carry as a gift to the King, and thou shalt stand in his presence and solicit him for my requirement. I am certified that by such means the matter will become easy to thee; and, if thou be unwilling, O my mother, to strive for the winning of my wish as regards the lady Badr al-Budur, know thou that surely I shall die. Nor do thou imagine that this gift is of aught save the costliest of stones and be assured, O my mother, that in my many visits to the Jewellers’ Bazar I have observed the merchants selling for sums man’s judgment may not determine jewels whose beauty is not worth one quarter carat of what we possess; seeing which I was certified that ours are beyond all price. So arise, O my mother, as I bade thee and bring me the porcelain bowl aforesaid, that I may arrange therein some of these gems and we will see what semblance they show.” So she brought him the China bowl saying in herself, “I shall know what to do when I find out if the words of my child concerning these jewels be soothfast or not;” and she set it before her son who pulled the stones out of his pockets and disposed them in the bowl and ceased not arranging therein gems of sorts till such time as he had filled it. And when it was brimful she could not fix her eyes firmly upon it; on the contrary, she winked and blinked for the dazzle of the stones and their radiance and excess of lightning like glance; and her wits were bewildered thereat; only she was not certified of their value being really of the enormous extent she had been told. Withal she reflected that possibly her son might have spoken aright when he declared that their like was not to be found with the Kings. Then Alaeddin turned to her and said, “Thou hast seen, O my mother, that this present intended for the Sultan is magnificent, and I am certified that it will procure for thee high honour with him and that he will receive thee with all respect. And now, O my mother, thou hast no excuse; so compose thy thoughts and arise; take thou this bowl and away with it to the palace.” His mother rejoined, “O my son, ’tis true that the present is high-priced exceedingly and the costliest of the costly; also that according to thy word none owneth its like. But who would have the boldness to go and ask the Sultan for his daughter, the Lady Badr al-Badur? I indeed dare not say to him, ‘I want thy daughter!’ when he shall ask me, ‘What is thy want?’ for know thou, O my son, that my tongue will be tied. And, granting that Allah assist me and I embolden myself to say to him, ‘My wish is to become a connection of thine through the marriage of thy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur, to my son Alaeddin,’ they will surely decide at once that I am demented and will thrust me forth in disgrace and despised. I will not tell thee that I shall thereby fall into danger of death, for ’twill not only be I but thou likewise. However, O my son, of my regard for thine inclination, I needs must embolden myself and hie thither; yet, O my child, if the King receive me and honour me on account of the gift and enquire of me what thou desirest,"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin’s mother said to her son, “And in reply I ask of him that which thou desirest in the matter of thy marriage with his daughter, how shall I answer him an he ask me, as is man’s wont, What estates hast thou, and what income? And perchance, O my son, he will question me of this before questioning me of thee.” Alaeddin replied, “ ’tis not possible that the Sultan should make such demand what time he considereth the jewels and their magnificence; nor is it meet to think of such things as these which may never occur. Now do thou but arise and set before him this present of precious stones and ask of him his daughter for me, and sit not yonder making much of the difficulty in thy fancy. Ere this thou hast learned, O mother mine, that the Lamp which we possess hath become to us a stable income and that whatso I want of it the same is supplied to me; and my hope is that by means thereof I shall learn how to answer the Sultan should he ask me of that thou sayest.”130 Then Alaeddin and his mother fell to talking over the subject all that night long and when morning morrowed, the dame arose and heartened her heart, especially as her son had expounded to her some little of the powers of the Lamp and the virtues thereof; to wit, that it would supply all they required of it. Alaeddin, however, seeing his parent take courage when he explained to her the workings of the Lamp, feared lest she might tattle to the folk thereof;131 so he said to her, “O my mother, beware how thou talk to any of the properties of the Lamp and its profit, as this is our one great good. Guard thy thoughts lest thou speak over much concerning it before others, whoso they be; haply we shall lose it and lose the boon fortune we possess and the benefits we expect, for that ’tis of him.”132 His mother replied, “Fear not, therefor, O my son,” and she arose and took the bowl full of jewels, which she wrapped up in a fine kerchief, and went forth betimes that she might reach the Divan ere it became crowded. When she passed into the Palace, the levée not being fully attended, she saw the Wazirs and sundry of the Lords of the land going into the presence-room and after a short time, when the Divan was made complete by the Ministers and high Officials and Chieftains and Emirs and Grandees, the Sultan appeared and the Wazirs made their obeisance and likewise did the Nobles and the Notables. The King seated himself upon the throne of his kingship, and all present at the levée stood before him with crossed arms awaiting his commandment to sit; and, when they received it, each took his place according to his degree; then the claimants came before the Sultan who delivered sentence, after his wonted way, until the Divan was ended, when the King arose and withdrew into the palace133 and the others all went their ways. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin’s mother, having come the earliest of all, found means of entering without any addressing her or offering to lead her to the presence; and she ceased not standing there until the Divan ended, when the Sultan arose and withdrew into the palace and the others all went about their business. And when she saw the throne empty and the King passing into his Harem, she also wended her ways and returned home. But as soon as her son espied her, bowl in hand, he thought that haply something untoward had befallen her, but he would not ask of aught until such time as she had set down the bowl, when she acquainted him with that which had occurred and ended by adding, “Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord! — O my child, that I found courage enough and secured for myself standing place in the levée this day; and, albe I dreaded to bespeak the King yet (Inshallah!) on the morrow I will address him. Even to-day were many who, like myself, could not get audience of the Sultan. But be of good cheer, O my son, and to-morrow needs must I bespeak him for thy sake; and what happened not may happen.” When Alaeddin heard his parent’s words, he joyed with excessive joy; and, although he expected the matter to be managed hour by hour, for excess of his love and longing to the Lady Badr al-Budur, yet he possessed his soul in patience. They slept well that night and betimes next morning the mother of Alaeddin arose and went with her bowl to the King’s court which she found closed. So she asked the people and they told her that the Sultan did not hold a levée every day but only thrice in the se’nnight; wherefor she determined to return home; and, after this, whenever she saw the court open she would stand before the King until the reception ended and when it was shut she would go to make sure thereof; and this was the case for the whole month. The Sultan was wont to remark her presence at every levée, but, on the last day when she took her station, as was her wont, before the Council, she allowed it to close and lacked boldness to come forwards and speak even a syllable. Now as the King having risen was making for his Harem accompanied by the Grand Wazir, he turned to him and said, “O Wazir, during the last six or seven levée days I see yonder old woman present herself at every reception and I also note that she always carrieth a something under her mantilla. Say me, hast thou, O Wazir, any knowledge of her and her intention?” “O my lord the Sultan, said the other, “verily women be weakly of wits, and haply this goodwife cometh hither to complain before thee134 against her goodman or some of her people.” But this reply was far from satisfying the Sultan; nay, be bade the Wazir, in case she should come again, set her before him; and forthright the Minister placed hand on head and exclaimed, “To hear is to obey, O our lord the Sultan!"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the mother of Alaeddin, as she made a practice of repairing to the Divan every day and passing into the room and standing opposite the King, albeit she was sorrowful and sore aweary, withal for her son’s sake she endeavored to make easy all her difficulties. Now one day of the days, when she did according to her custom, the Sultan cast his eyes upon her as she stood before him, and said to his Grand Wazir, “This be the very woman whereof I spake to thee yesterday, so do thou straightway bring her before me, that I may see what be her suit and fulfil her need.” Accordingly, the Minister at once introduced her and when in the presence she saluted the King by kissing her finger tips and raising them to her brow;135 and, praying for the Sultan’s glory and continuance and the permanence of his prosperity, bussed ground before him. Thereupon, Quoth he “O woman,136 for sundry days I have seen thee attend the levée sans a word said; so tell me an thou have any requirement I may grant.” She kissed ground a second time and after blessing him, answered, “Yea, verily, as thy head liveth, O King of the Age, I have a want; but first of all, do thou deign grant me a promise of safety that I may prefer my suit to the ears of our lord the Sultan; for haply thy Highness137 may find it a singular.” The King, wishing to know her need, and being a man of unusual mildness and clemency, gave his word for her immunity and bade forthwith dismiss all about him, remaining without other but the Grand Wazir. Then he turned towards his suppliant and said, “Inform me of thy suit: thou hast the safeguard of Allah Al-mighty.” “O King of the Age,” replied she, “I also require of thee pardon;” and Quoth he, “Allah pardon thee even as I do.” Then, Quoth she, “O our lord the Sultan, I have a son, Alaeddin hight; and he, one day of the days, having heard the crier commending all men to shut shop and shun the streets, for that the Lady Badr al-Budur, daughter of the Sultan, was going to the Hammam, felt an uncontrollable longing to look upon her, and hid himself in a stead whence he could sight her right well, and that place was behind the door of the Baths. When she entered he beheld her and considered her as he wished, and but too well; for, since the time he looked upon her, O King of the Age, unto this hour, life hath not been pleasant to him. And he hath required of me that I ask her to wife for him from thy Highness, nor could I drive this fancy from his mind because love of her hath mastered his vitals and to such degree that he said to me, ‘Know thou, O mother mine, that an I win not my wish surely I shall die.’ Accordingly I hope that thy Highness will deign be mild and merciful and pardon this boldness on the part of me and my child and refrain to punish us therefor.” When the Sultan heard her tale he regarded her with kindness and, laughing aloud, asked her, “What may be that thou carriest and what be in yonder kerchief?” And she seeing the Sultan laugh in lieu of waxing wroth at her words, forthright opened the wrapper and set before him the bowl of jewels, whereby the audience-hall was illumined as it were by lustres and candelabra;138 and he was dazed and amazed at the radiance of the rare gems, and he fell to marvelling at their size and beauty and excellence. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, if thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the King saw the gems he was seized by surprise and cried, “Never at all until this day saw I anything like these jewels for size and beauty and excellence: nor deem I that there be found in my treasury a single one like them.” Then he turned O Wazir? Tell me hast thou to his Minister and asked, “What sayest thou, seen in thy time such mighty fine jewels as these?” The other answered, “Never saw I such, O our lord the Sultan, nor do I think that there be in the treasures of my lord the Sultan the fellow of the least thereof.” The King resumed, “Now indeed whoso hath presented to me such jewels meriteth to become bridegroom to my daughter, Badr al-Budur; because, as far as I see, none is more deserving of her than he.” When the Wazir heard the Sultan’s words he was tongue-tied with concern and he grieved with sore grief, for the King had promised to give the Princess in marriage to his son; so after a little while he said, “O King of the Age, thy Highness deigned promise me that the Lady Badr al-Budur should be spouse to my son; so ’tis but right that thine exalted Highness vouchsafe us a delay of three months, during which time, Inshallah! my child may obtain and present an offering yet costlier than this.” Accordingly the King, albeit he knew that such a thing could not be done, or by the Wazir or by the greatest of his Grandees, yet of his grace and kindness granted him the required delay. Then he turned to the old woman, Alaeddin’s mother, and said, “Go to thy son and tell him I have pledged my word that my daughter shall be in his name;139 only ’tis needful that I make the requisite preparations of nuptial furniture for her use; and ’tis only meet that he take patience for the next three months.” Receiving this reply, Alaeddin’s mother thanked the Sultan and blessed him; then, going forth in hottest haste, as one flying for joy, she went home; and when her son saw her entering with a smiling face, he was gladdened at the sign of good news, especially because she had returned without delay as on the Fast days, and had not brought back the bowl. Presently he asked her saying, “Inshallah, thou bearest me, O my mother, glad tidings; and peradventure the jewels and their value have wrought their work and belike thou hast been kindly received by the King and he hath shown thee grace and hath given ear to thy request?” So she told him the whole tale, how the Sultan had entreated her well and had marvelled at the extraordinary size of the gems and their surpassing water as did also the Wazir, adding, “And he promised that his daughter should be thine. Only, O my child, the Wazir spake of a secret contract made with him by the Sultan before he pledged himself to me and, after speaking privily, the King put me off to the end of three months: therefore I have become fearful lest the Wazir be evilly disposed to thee and perchance he may attempt to change the Sultan’s mind.” And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when Alaeddin heard his mother’s words and how the Sultan had promised him his daughter, deferring, however, the wedding until after the third month, his mind was gladdened and he rejoiced exceedingly and said, “Inasmuch as the King hath given his word after three months (well, it is a long time!), at all events my gladness is mighty great.” Then he thanked his parent, showing her how her good work had exceeded her toil and travail; and said to her, “By Allah, O my mother, hitherto I was as ’twere in my grave and therefrom thou hast withdrawn me; and I praise Allah Almighty because I am at this moment certified that no man in the world is happier than I or more fortunate.” Then he took patience until two of the three months had gone by. Now one day of the days his mother fared forth about sundown to the Bazar that she might buy somewhat of oil; and she found all the market shops fast shut and the whole city decorated, and the folk placing waxen tapers and flowers at their casements; and she beheld the soldiers and household troops and Aghás140 riding in procession and flambeaux and lustres flaming and flaring, and she wondered at the marvellous sight and the glamour of the scene. So she went in to an oilman’s store which stood open still and bought her need of him and said, “By thy life, O uncle, tell me what be the tidings in town this day, that people have made all these decorations and every house and market-street are adorned and the troops all stand on guard?” The oilman asked her, “O woman, I suppose thou art a stranger and not one of this city?” and she answered, “Nay, I am thy townswoman.” He rejoined, “Thou a towns-woman, and yet wottest not that this very night the son of the Grand Wazir goeth in to the Lady Badr al-Budur, daughter of the Sultan! He is now in the Hammam and all this power of soldiery is on guard and standing under arms to await his coming forth, when they will bear him in bridal procession to the palace where the Princess expecteth him.” As the mother of Alaeddin heard these words, she grieved and was distraught in thought and perplexed how to inform her son of this sorrowful event, well knowing that the poor youth was looking, hour by hour, to the end of the three months. But she returned straightway home to him and when she had entered she said, “O my son, I would give thee certain tidings, yet hard to me will be the sorrow they shall occasion thee.” He cried, “Let me know what be thy news;” and she replied, “Verily the Sultan hath broken his promise to thee in the matter of the Lady Badr al-Budur, and this very night the Grand Wazir’s son goeth in to her. And for some time, O my son, I have suspected that the Minister would change the King’s mind, even as I told thee how he had spoken privily to him before me.” Alaeddin141 asked, “How learnedst thou that the Wazir’s son is this night to pay his first visit to the Princess?” So she told him the whole tale, how when going to buy oil she had found the city decorated and the eunuch-officials and Lords of the land with the troops under arms awaiting the bridegroom from the Baths; and that the first visit was appointed for that very night. Hearing this Alaeddin was seized with a fever of jealousy brought on by his grief: however, after a short while he remembered the Lamp and, recovering his spirits said, “By thy life, O my mother, do thou believe that the Wazir’s son will not enjoy her as thou thinkest. But now leave we this discourse and arise thou and serve up supper142 and after eating let me retire to my own chamber and all will be well and happy.” And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin after he had supped retired to his chamber and, locking the door, brought out the Lamp and rubbed it, whenas forthright appeared to him its Familiar who said, “Ask whatso thou wantest, for I am thy Slave and Slave to him who holdeth the Lamp in hand; I and all the Slaves of the Lamp.” He replied, “Hear me! I prayed the Sultan for his daughter to wife and he plighted her to me after three months; but he hath not kept his word; nay, he hath given her to the son of the Wazir and this very night the bridegroom will go in to her. Therefore I command thee (an thou be a trusty Servitor to the Lamp) when thou shalt see bride and bridegroom bedded together this night,143 at once take them up and bear them hither abed; and this be what I want of thee.” The Marid replied, “Hearing and obeying; and if thou have other service but this, do thou demand of me all thou desirest.” Alaeddin “At the present time I require naught save that I bade thee do.” Here upon the Slave disappeared and Alaeddin returned to pass the rest of the evening with his mother. But at the hour when he knew that the Servitor would be coming, he arose and refired to his chamber and after a little while, behold, the Marid came bringing to him the newly-wedded couple upon their bridal-bed. Alaeddin rejoiced to see them with exceeding joy; then he cried to the Slave, “Carry yonder gallows-bird hence and lay him at full length in the privy.”144 His bidding was done straightway; but, before leaving him, the Slave blew upon the bridegroom a blast so cold that it shrivelled him and the plight of the Wazir’s son became piteous. Then the Servitor returning to Alaeddin said to him, “An thou require aught else, inform me thereof;” and said the other, “Return a-morn that thou mayest restore them to their stead;” whereto, “I hear and obey,” Quoth the Marid and evanished. Presently Alaeddin arose, hardly believing that the affair had been such a success for him; but whenas he looked upon the Lady Badr al-Budur lying under his own roof, albeit he had long burned with her love yet he preserved respect for her and said, “O Princess of fair ones, think not that I brought thee hither hither to minish thy honour. Heaven forfend! Nay ’twas only to prevent the wrong man enjoying thee, for that thy sire the Sultan promised thee to me. So do thou rest in peace."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales.” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Lady Badr al-Budur, daughter of the Sultan, saw herself in that mean and darksome lodging, and heard Alaeddin’s words, she was seized with fear and trembling and waxed clean distraught; nor could she return aught of reply. Presently the youth arose and stripping off his outer dress placed a scymitar between them and lay upon the bed beside the Princess;145 and he did no villain deed, for it sufficed him to prevent the consummation of her nuptials with the Wazir’s son. On the other hand the Lady Badr al-Budur passed a night the evillest of all nights; nor in her born days had she seen a worse; and the same was the case with the Minister’s son who lay in the chapel of ease and who dared not stir for the fear of the Jinni which overwhelmed him. As soon as it was morning the Slave appeared before Alaeddin, without the Lamp being rubbed, and said to him, “O my lord, an thou require aught, command me therefor, that I may do it upon my head and mine eyes.” Said the other, “Go, take up and carry the bride and bridegroom to their own apartment;” so the Servitor did his bidding in an eye-glance and bore away the pair, and placed them in the palace as whilome they were and without their seeing any one; but both died of affright when they found themselves being transported from stead to stead.146 And the Marid had barely time to set them down and wend his ways ere the Sultan came on a visit of congratulation to his daughter; and, when the Wazir’s son heard the doors thrown open, he sprang straightway from his couch and donned his dress147 for he knew that none save the King could enter at that hour. Yet it was exceedingly hard for him to leave his bed wherein he wished to warm himself a trifle after his cold night in the water closet which he had lately left. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Sultan went in to his daughter Badr al-Budur and kissing her between the eyes gave her good morning and asked her of her bridegroom and whether she was pleased and satisfied with him. But she returned no reply whatever and looked at him with the eye of anger and, although he repeated his words again and again, she held her peace nor bespake him with a single syllable. So the King quitted her and, going to the Queen, informed her of what had taken place between him and his daughter; and the mother, unwilling to leave the Sultan angered with their child, said to him, “O King of the Age, this be the custom of most newly-married couples at least during their first days of marriage, for that they are bashful and somewhat coy. So deign thou excuse her and after a little while she will again become herself and speak with the folk as before, whereas now her shame, O King of the Age, keepeth her silent. However ’tis my wish to fare forth and see her.” Thereupon the Queen arose and donned her dress; then, going to her daughter, wished her good morning and kissed her between the eyes. Yet would the Princess make no answer at all, whereat Quoth the Queen to herself, “Doubtless some strange matter hath occurred to trouble her with such trouble as this.” So she asked her saying “O my daughter, what hath caused this thy case? Let me know what hath betided thee that, when I come and give thee good morning, thou hast not a word to say to me?” Thereat the Lady Badr al-Budur raised her head and said, “Pardon me O my mother, ’twas my duty to meet thee with all respect and worship, seeing that thou hast honoured me by this visit. However, I pray thee to hear the cause of this my condition and see how the night I have just spent hath been to me the evillest of the nights. Hardly had we lain down, O my mother, than one whose form I wot not uplifted our bed and transported it to a darksome place, fulsome and mean.” Then the Princess related to the Queen-mother all that had befallen her that night; how they had taken away her bridegroom, leaving her lone and lonesome, and how after a while came another youth who lay beside her, in lieu of her bridegroom, after placing his scymitar between her and himself; “and in the morning” (she continued) “he who carried us off returned and bore us straight back to our own stead. But at once when he arrived hither he left us and suddenly my sire the Sultan entered at the hour and moment of our coming and I I had nor heart nor tongue to speak him withal, for the stress of the terror and trembling which came upon me. Haply such lack of duty may have proved sore to him, so I hope, O my mother, that thou wilt acquaint him with the cause of this my condition and that he will pardon me for not answering him and blame me not, but rather accept my excuses."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Queen heard these words of Princess Badr al-Budur, she said to her, “O my child, compose thy thoughts. An thou tell such tale before any, haply shall he say, ‘Verily, the Sultan’s daughter hath lost her wits.’ And thou hast done right well in not choosing to recount thine adventure to thy father; and beware and again I say beware, O my daughter, lest thou inform him thereof.” The Princess replied, “O my mother, I have spoken to thee like one sound in senses nor have I lost my wits: this be what befel me and, if thou believe it not because coming from me, ask my bridegroom.” To which the Queen replied, “Rise up straightway, O my daughter, and banish from thy thoughts such fancies as these; and robe thyself and come forth to glance at the bridal feasts and festivities they are making in the city for the sake of thee and thy nuptials; and listen to the drumming and the singing and look at the decorations all intended to honour thy marriage, O my daughter.” So saying, the Queen at once summoned the tirewomen who dressed and prepared the Lady Badr al-Budur; and presently she went in to the Sultan and assured him that their daughter had suffered during all her wedding-night from swevens and nightmare and said to him, “Be not severe with her for not answering thee.” Then the Queen sent privily for the Wazir’s son and asked of the matter, saying, “Tell me, are these words of the Lady Badr al-Budur soothfast or not?” But he, in his fear of losing his bride out of hand, answered, “O my lady, I have no knowledge of that whereof thou speakest.” Accordingly the mother made sure that her daughter had seen visions and dreams. The marriage-feasts lasted throughout that day with Almahs148 and singers and the smiting of all manner instruments of mirth and merriment, while the Queen and the Wazir and his son strave right strenuously to enhance the festivities that the Princess might enjoy herself; and that day they left nothing of what exciteth to pleasure unrepresented in her presence, to the end that she might forget what was in her thoughts and derive increase of joyance. Yet did naught of this take any effect upon her; nay, she sat in silence, sad of thought, sore perplexed at what had befallen her during the last night. It is true that the Wazir’s son had suffered even more because he had passed his sleeping hours lying in the water-closet: he, however, had falsed the story and had cast out remembrance of the night in the first place for his fear of losing his bride and with her the honour of a connection which brought him such excess of consideration and for which men envied him so much; and, secondly, on account of the wondrous loveliness of the Lady Badr al-Budur and her marvellous beauty. Alaeddin also went forth that day and looked at the merry-makings which extended throughout the city as well as the palace and he fell a-laughing, especially when he heard the folk prating of the high honour which had accrued to the son of the Wazir and the prosperity of his fortunes in having become son-in-law to the Sultan and the high consideration shown by the wedding fêtes. And he said in his mind, “Indeed ye wot not, O ye miserables, what befel him last night that ye envy him!” But after darkness fell and it was time for sleep, Alaeddin arose and, retiring to his chamber, rubbed the Lamp, whereupon the Slave incontinently appeared. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Slave appeared in presence of Alaeddin, he was bidden to bring him the Sultan’s daughter together with her bridegroom as on the past night ere the Wazir’s son could abate her maidenhead. So the Marid without stay or delay evanished for a little while until the appointed time, when he returned carrying the bed whereon lay the Lady Badr al-Budur and the Wazir’s son; and he did with the bridegroom as he had done before, to wit, he took him up and lay him at full length in the jakes and there left him dried up for excess of fear and trembling. Then Alaeddin arose, and placing the scymitar between himself and the Princess, lay down beside her; and when day broke the Slave restored the pair to their own place, leaving Alaeddin filled with delight at the state of the Minister’s son. Now when the Sultan woke up amorn he resolved to visit his daughter and see if she would treat him as on the past day; so shaking off his sleep he sprang up and arrayed himself in his raiment and, going to the apartment of the Princess bade open the door. Thereat the son of the Wazir arose forthright and came down from his bed and began donning his dress whilst his ribs were wrung with cold; for when the King entered the Slave had but just brought him back. The Sultan, raising the arras,149 drew near his daughter as she lay abed and gave her good morning; then kissing her between the eyes, he asked her of her case. But he saw her looking sour and sad and she answered him not at all, only glowering at him as one in anger and her plight was pitiable. Hereat the Sultan waxed wroth with her for that she would not reply and he suspected that something evil had befallen her,150 whereupon he bared his blade and cried to her, brand in hand, saying, “What be this hath betided thee? Either acquaint me with what happened or this very moment I will take thy life! Is such conduct the token of honour and respect I expect of thee, that I address thee and thou answerest me not a word?” When the Lady Badar al- Badur saw her sire in high dudgeon and the naked glaive in his grip, she was freed from her fear of the past, so she raised her head and said to him, “O my beloved father, be not wroth with me nor be hasty in thy hot passion for I am excusable in what thou shalt see of my case. So do thou lend an ear to what occurred to me and well I wot that after hearing my account of what befel to me during these two last nights, thou wilt pardon me and thy Highness will be softened to pitying me even as I claim of thee affection for thy child.” Then the Princess informed her father of all that had betided her adding, “O my sire, an thou believe me not, ask my bridegroom and he will recount to thy Highness the whole adventure, nor did I know either what they would do with him when they bore him away from my side or where they would place him."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Sultan heard his daughter’s words, he was saddened and his eyes brimmed with tears, then he sheathed his sabre and kissed her saying, “O my daughter wherefore151 didst thou not tell me what happened on the past night that I might have guarded thee from this torture and terror which visited thee a second time? But now ’tis no matter. Rise and cast out all such care and to-night I will set a watch to ward thee nor shall any mishap again make thee miserable.” Then the Sultan returned to his palace and straightway bade summon the Grand Wazir and asked him, as he stood before him in his service, “O Wazir how dost thou look upon this matter? Haply thy son hath informed thee of what occurred to him and to my daughter.” The Minister replied, “O King of the Age, I have not seen my son or yesterday or to-day.” Hereat the Sultan told him all that had afflicted the Princess, adding, “ ’tis my desire that thou at once seek tidings of thy son concerning the facts of the case: peradventure of her fear my daughter may not be fully aware of what really befel her; withal I hold all her words to be truthful.” So the Grand Wazir arose and, going forth, bade summon his son and asked him anent all his lord had told him whether it be true or untrue. The youth replied, “O my father the Wazir, Heaven forbid that the Lady Badr al-Budur speak falsely: indeed all she said was sooth and these two nights proved to us the evillest of our nights instead of being nights of pleasure and marriage-joys. But what befel me was the greater evil because, instead of sleeping abed with my bride, I lay in the wardrobe, a black hole, frightful, noisome of stench, truly damnable; and my ribs were bursten with cold.” In fine the young man told his father the whole tale, adding as he ended it, “O dear father mine, I implore thee to speak with the Sultan that he may set me free from this marriage. Yes, indeed ’tis a high honour for me to be the Sultan’s son-in-law and especially the love of the Princess hath gotten hold of my vitals; but I have no strength left to endure a single night like unto these two last."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Wazir, hearing the words of his son, was saddened and sorrowful exceedingly, for it was his design to advance and promote his child by making him son-in-law to the Sultan. So he became thoughtful and perplexed about the affair and the device whereby to manage it, and it was sore grievous for him to break off the marriage, it having been a rare enjoyment to him that he had fallen upon such high good fortune. Accordingly he said, “Take patience, O my son, until we see what may happen this night, when we will set watchmen to ward you; nor do thou give up the exalted distinction which hath fallen to none save to thyself.” Then the Wazir left him and, returning to the sovran, reported that all told to him by the Lady Badr al-Budur was a true tale; whereupon Quoth the Sultan, “Since the affair is on this wise, we require no delay,” and he at once ordered all the rejoicings to cease and the marriage to be broken off. This caused the folk and the citizen to marvel at the matter, especially when they saw the Grand Wazir and his son leaving the palace in pitiable plight for grief and stress of passion; and the people fell to asking, “What hath happened and what is the cause of the wedding being made null and void?” Nor did any know aught of the truth save Alaeddin the lover who claimed the Princess’s hand, and he laughed in his sleeve. But even after the marriage was dissolved, the Sultan forgot nor even recalled to mind his promise made to Alaeddin’s mother; and the same was the case with the Grand Wazir, while neither had any inkling of whence befel them that which had befallen. So Alaeddin patiently awaited the lapse of the three months after which the Sultan had pledged himself to give him to wife his daughter; but, as soon as ever the term came, he sent his mother to the Sultan for the purpose of requiring him to keep his covenant. So she went to the palace and when the King appeared in the Divan and saw the old woman standing before him, he remembered his promise to her concerning the marriage after a term of three months, and he turned to the Minister and said “O Wazir, this be the ancient dame who presented me with the jewels and to whom we pledged our word that when the three months had elapsed we would summon her to our presence before all others.” So the Minister went forth and fetched her152 and when she went in to the Sultan’s presence she saluted him and prayed for his glory and permanence of prosperity. Hereat the King asked her if she needed aught, and she answered, “O King of the Age, the three months’ term thou assignedst to me is finished, and this is thy time to marry my son Alaeddin with thy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur.” The Sultan was distraught at this demand, especially when he saw the old woman’s pauper condition, one of the meanest of her kind; and yet the offering she had brought to him was of the most magnificent, far beyond his power to pay the price. Accordingly, he turned to the Grand Wazir and said, “What device is there with thee? In very sooth I did pass my word, yet meseemeth that they be pauper folk and not persons of high condition."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Grand Wazir who was dying of envy and who was especially saddened by what had befallen his son, said to himself, “How shall one like this wed the King’s daughter and my son lose this highmost honour?” Accordingly, he answered his Sovran speaking privily, “O my lord, ’tis an easy153 matter to keep off a poor devil such as this, for he is not worthy that thy Highness give his daughter to a fellow whom none knoweth what he may be.” “By what means,” enquired the Sultan, “shall we put off the man when I pledged my promise; and the word of the Kings is their bond?” Replied the Wazir, “O my lord, my rede is that thou demand of him forty platters made of pure sand-gold154 and full of gems (such as the woman brought thee aforetime), with forty white slave-girls to carry the platters and forty black eunuch-slaves.” The King rejoined, “By Allah, O Wazir, thou hast spoken to the purpose, seeing that such thing is not possible and by this way we shall be freed.” Then Quoth he to Alaeddin’s mother, “Do thou go and tell thy son that I am a man of my word even as I plighted it to him, but on condition that he have power to pay the dower of my daughter; and that which I require of him is a settlement consisting of two score platters of virgin gold, all brimming with gems the like of those thou broughtest to me, and as many white handmaids to carry them and two score black eunuch-slaves to serve and escort the bearers. An thy son avail hereto I will marry him with my daughter.” Thereupon she returned home wagging her head and saying in her mind, “Whence can my poor boy procure these platters and such jewels? And granted that he return to the Enchanted Treasury and pluck them from the trees which, however, I hold impossible; yet given that he bring them whence shall he come by the girls and the blacks?” Nor did she leave communing with herself till she reached her home, where she found Alaeddin awaiting her, and she lost no time in saying “O my son, did I not tell thee never to fancy that thy power would extend to the Lady Badr al-Budur, and that such a matter is not possible to folk like ourselves?” “Recount to me the news,” Quoth he; so Quoth she, “O my child, verily the Sultan received me with all honour according to his custom and, meseemeth his intentions towards us be friendly. But thine enemy is that accursed Wazir; for, after I addressed the King in thy name as thou badest me say, ‘In very sooth the promised term is past,’ adding ‘ ’Twere well an thy Highness would deign issue commandment for the espousals of thy daughter the Lady Badr al-Budur to my son Alaeddin he turned to and addressed the Minister who answered privily, after which the Sultan gave me his reply.” Then she enumerated the King’s demands and said, “O my son, he indeed expecteth of thee an instant reply but I fancy that we have no answer for him.” And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when Alaeddin heard these words he laughed and said, “O my mother, thou affirmeth that we have no answer and thou deemest the case difficult exceedingly; but compose thy thoughts and arise and bring me somewhat we may eat; and, after we have dined, an the Compassionate be willing, thou shalt see my reply. Also the Sultan thinketh like thyself that he hath demanded a prodigious dower in order to divert me from his daughter, whereas the fact is that he hath required of me a matter far less than I expected. But do thou fare forth at once and purchase the provision and leave me to procure thee a reply.” So she went out to fetch her needful from the Bazar and Alaeddin retired to his chamber and taking the Lamp rubbed it, when forthright appeared to him its Slave and said, “Ask, O my lord, whatso thou wantest.” The other replied, “I have demanded of the Sultan his daughter to wife and he hath required of me forty bowls of purest gold each weighing ten pounds155 and all to be filled with gems such as we find in the Gardens of the Hoard; furthermore, that they be borne on the heads of as many white handmaids, each attended by her black eunuch-slave, also forty in full rate; so I desire that thou bring all these into my presence.” “Hearkening and obeying, O my lord,” Quoth the Slave and, disappearing for the space of an hour or so, presently returned bringing the platters and jewels, handmaids and eunuchs; then, setting them before him the Marid cried, “This be what thou demandest of me: declare now an thou want any matter or service other than this.” Alaeddin rejoined, “I have need of naught else; but, an I do, I will summon thee and let thee know.” The Slave now disappeared and, after a little while, Alaeddin’s mother returned home and, on entering the house, saw the blacks and the handmaids.156 Hereat she wondered and exclaimed, “All this proceedeth from the Lamp which Allah perpetuate to my son!” But ere she doffed her mantilla Alaeddin said to her, “O my mother, this be thy time before the Sultan enter his Serraglio-palace;157 do thou carry to him what he required and wend thou with it at once, so may he know that I avail to supply all he wanteth and yet more; also that he is beguiled by his Grand Wazir and the twain imagined vainly that they would baffle me.” Then he arose forthright and opened the house-door, when the handmaids and blackamoors paced forth in pairs, each girl with her eunuch beside her, until they crowded the quarter, Alaeddin’s mother foregoing them. And when the folk of that ward sighted such mighty fine sight and marvellous spectacle, all stood at gaze and they considered the forms and figures of the handmaids marvelling at their beauty and loveliness, for each and every wore robes inwrought with gold and studded with jewels, no dress being worth less than a thousand dinars.158 They stared as intently at the bowls and albeit these were covered with pieces of brocade, also orfrayed and dubbed with precious stones, yet the sheen outshot from them dulled the thine of sun. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the folk and especially the people of the quarter stood a marvelling at this singular scene. Then Alaeddin’s mother walked forwards and all the handmaids and eunuchs paced behind her in the best of ordinance and disposition, and the citizens gathered to gaze at the beauty of the damsels, glorifying God the Most Great, until the train reached the palace and entered it accompanied by the tailor’s widow. Now when the Aghas and Chamberlains and Army-officers beheld them, all were seized with surprise, notably by seeing the handmaids who each and every would ravish the reason of an anchorite. And albeit the royal Chamberlains and Officials were men of family, the sons of Grandees and Emirs, yet they could not but especially wonder at the costly dresses of the girls and the platters borne upon their heads; nor could they gaze at them open eyed by reason of the exceeding brilliance and radiance. Then the Nabobs went in and reported to the King who forthright bade admit them to the presence chamber, and Alaeddin’s mother went in with them. When they stood before the Sultan, all saluted him with every sign of respect and worship and prayed for his glory and prosperity; then they set down from their heads the bowls at his feet and, having removed the brocade covers, rested with arms crossed behind them. The Sultan wondered with exceeding wonder and was distraught by the beauty of the handmaids and their loveliness which passed praise; and his wits were wildered when he considered the golden bowls brimful of gems which captured man’s vision, and he was perplexed at the marvel until he became, like the dumb, unable to utter a syllable for the excess of his wonder. Also his sense was stupefied the more when he bethought him that within a hour or so all these treasures had been collected. Presently he commended the slave-girls to enter, with what loads they bore, the dower of the Princess; and, when they had done his bidding Alaeddin’s mother came forward and said to the Sultan, “O my lord, this be not much wherewith to honour the Lady Badr al-Budur, for that she meriteth these things multiplied times manifold.” Hereat the Sovran turned to the Minister and asked, “What sayest thou, O Wazir? is not he who could produce such wealth in a time so brief, is he not, I say, worthy to become the Sultan’s son-in-law and take the King’s daughter to wife?” Then the Minister (although he marvelled at these riches even more than did the Sultan), whose envy was killing him and growing greater hour by hour, seeing his liege lord satisfied with the moneys and the dower and yet being unable to fight against fact, made answer, “ ’tis not worthy of her.” Withal he fell to devising a device against the King that he might withhold the Lady Badr al-Budur from Alaeddin and accordingly he continued, “O my liege, the treasures of the universe all of them are not worth a nail-paring of thy daughter: indeed thy Highness hath prized these things overmuch in comparison with her."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the King heard the words of his Grand Wazir, he knew that the speech was prompted by excess of envy; so turning to the mother of Alaeddin he said, “O woman, go to thy son and tell him that I have accepted of him the dower and stand to my bargain, and that my daughter be his bride and he my son-in-law: furthermore, bid him at once make act of presence that I may become familiar with him: he shall see naught from me save all honour and consideration, and this night shall be the beginning of the marriage-festivities. Only, as I said to thee, let him come to me and tarry not.” Thereupon Alaeddin’s mother returned home with the speed of the stormwinds that she might hasten her utmost to congratulate her son; and she flew with joy at the thought that her boy was about to become159 son-in-law to the Sultan. After her departure the King dismissed the Divan and, entering the palace of the Princess, bade them bring the bowls and the handmaids before him and before her, that she also might inspect them. But when the Lady Badr al-Budur considered the jewels, she waxed distraught and cried, “Meseemeth that in the treasuries of the world there be not found one jewel rivalling these jewels.” Then she looked at the handmaids and marvelled at their beauty and loveliness, and knew that all this came from her new bridegroom who had sent them in her service. So she was gladdened, albeit she had been grieved and saddened on account of her former husband, the Wazir’s son, and she rejoiced with exceeding joy when she gazed upon the damsels and their charms; nor was her sire, the Sultan, less pleased and inspirited when he saw his daughter relieved of all her mourning and melancholy and his own vanished at the sight of her enjoyment. Then he asked her, “O my daughter, do these things divert thee? Indeed I deem that this suitor of thine be more suitable to thee than the son of the Wazir; and right soon (Inshallah!), O my daughter, shalt thou have fuller joy with him.” Such was the case with the King; but as regards Alaeddin, as soon as he saw his mother entering the house with face laughing for stress of joy he rejoiced at the sign of glad tidings and cried, “To Allah alone be lauds! Perfected is all I desired.” Rejoined his mother, “Be gladdened at my good news, O my son, and hearten thy heart and cool thine eyes for the winning of thy wish. The Sultan hath accepted thine offering, I mean the moneys and the dower of the Lady Badr al-Budur, who is now thine affianced bride; and, this very night, O my child, is your marriage and thy first visit to her; for the King, that he might assure me of his word, hath proclaimed to the world thou art his son-in-law and promised this night to be the night of going in. But he also said to me, ‘Let thy son come hither forthright that I may become familiar with him and receive him with all honour and worship.’ And now here am I, O my son, at the end of my labours; happen whatso may happen the rest is upon thy shoulders.” Thereupon Alaeddin arose and kissed his mother’s hand and thanked her, enhancing her kindly service: then he left her and entering his chamber took the Lamp and rubbed it when, lo and behold! its Slave appeared and cried, “Adsum! Ask whatso thou wantest.” The young man replied, “ ’tis my desire that thou take me to a Hammam whose like is not in the world; then, fetch me a dress so costly and kingly that no royalty ever owned its fellow.” The Marid replied, “I hear and I obey,” and carried him to Baths such as were never seen by the Kings of the Chosroës, for the building was all of alabaster and carnelian and it contained marvellous limnings which captured the sight; and the great hall160 was studded with precious stones. Not a soul was therein but, when Alaeddin entered, one of the Jann in human shape washed him and bathed161 him to the best of his desire. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin, after having been washed and bathed, left the Baths and went into the great hall where he found that his old dress had been removed and replaced by a suit of the most precious and princely. Then he was served with sherbets and ambergris’d coffee162 and, after drinking, he arose and a party of black slaves came forwards and clad him in the costliest of clothing, then perfumed and fumigated him. It is known that Alaeddin was the son of a tailor, a pauper, yet now would none deem him to be such; nay, all would say, “This be the greatest that is of the progeny of the Kings: praise be to Him who changeth and who is not changed!” Presently came the Jinni and lifting him up bore him to his home and asked, “O my lord, tell me hast thou aught of need?” He answered, “Yes, ’tis my desire that thou bring me eight and forty Mamelukes, of whom two dozen shall forego me and the rest follow me, the whole number with their war-chargers and clothing and accoutrements; and all upon them and their steeds must be of naught save of highest worth and the costliest, such as may not be found in treasuries of the Kings. Then fetch me a stallion fit for the riding of the Chosroës and let his furniture, all thereof, be of gold crusted with the finest gems:163 fetch me also eight and forty thousand dinars that each white slave may carry a thousand gold pieces. ’tis now my intent to fare to the Sultan, so delay thou not, for that without all these requisites whereof I bespake thee I may not visit him. Moreover set before me a dozen slave-girls unique in beauty and dight with the most magnificent dresses, that they wend with my mother to the royal palace; and let every handmaid be robed in raiment that befitteth Queen’s wearing.” The Slave replied, “To hear is to obey;” and, disappearing for an eye-twinkling, brought all he was bidden bring and led by hand a stallion whose rival was not amongst the Arabian Arabs,164 and its saddle cloth was of splendid brocade gold-inwrought. Thereupon, without stay or delay, Alaeddin sent for his mother and gave her the garments she should wear and committed to her charge the twelve slave-girls forming her suite to the palace. Then he sent one of the Mamelukes, whom the Jinni had brought, to see if the Sultan had left the Serraglio or not. The white slave went forth lighter than the lightning and returning in like haste, said, “O my lord, the Sultan awaiteth thee!” Hereat Alaeddin arose and took horse, his Mamelukes riding a-van and a-rear of him, and they were such that all must cry, “Laud to the Lord who created them and clothed them with such beauty and loveliness.” And they scattered gold amongst the crowd in front of their master who surpassed them all in comeliness and seemlihead nor needst thou ask concerning the sons of the Kings — praise be to the Bountiful, the Eternal! All this was of the virtues of the Wonderful Lamp,165 which, whoso possessed, him it gifted with fairest favour and finest figure, with wealth and with wisdom. The folk admired Alaeddin’s liberality and exceeding generosity and all were distraught seeing his charms and elegance, his gravity and his good manners, they glorified the Creator for this noble creation, they blessed him each and every and, albeit they knew him for the son of Such-an-one, the tailor, yet no man envied him; nay, all owned that he deserved his great good fortune. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the people were bewildered at Alaeddin and his liberality and generosity; and all blessed and prayed for him, high and low, as he rode palace-wards with the Mamelukes before and behind him, scattering gold upon the heads of the folk. Now the Sultan had assembled the Lords of the land and, informing them of the promise he had passed to Alaeddin, touching the marriage of his daughter, had bidden them await his approach and then go forth, one and all, to meet him and greet him. Hereupon the Emirs and Wazirs, the Chamberlains, the Nabobs and the Army-officers took their stations expecting him at the palace gate. Alaeddin would fain have dismounted at the outer entrance; but one of the Nobles, whom the King had deputed for such duty, approached him and said, “O my lord, ’tis the Royal Command that thou enter riding thy steed nor dismount except at the Divan-door.”166 Then they all forewent him in a body and conducted him to the appointed place where they crowded about him, these to hold his stirrup and those supporting him on either side whilst others took him by the hands and helped him dismount; after which all the Emirs and Nobles preceded him into the Divan and led him close up to the royal throne. Thereupon the Sultan came down forthright from his seat of estate and, forbidding him to buss the carpet, embraced and kissed and seated him to the right167 of and beside himself. Alaeddin did whatso is suitable, in the case of the Kings, of salutation and offering of blessings, and said, “O our lord the Sultan, indeed the generosity of thy Highness demanded that thou deign vouchsafe to me the hand of thy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur, albeit I undeserve the greatness of such gift, I being but the humblest of thy slaves I pray Allah grant thee prosperity and perpetuance; but in very sooth, O King, my tongue is helpless to thank thee for the fullness of the favour, passing all measure, which thou hast bestowed upon me. And I hope of thy Highness that thou wilt give me a piece of ground fitted for a pavilion which shall besit thy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur.” The Sultan was struck with admiration when he saw Alaeddin in his princely suit and looked upon him and considered his beauty and loveliness, and noted the Mamelukes standing to serve him in their comeliness and seemlihead; and still his marvel grew when the mother of Alaeddin approached him in costly raiment and sumptuous, clad as though she were a Queen, and when he gazed upon the twelve handmaids standing before her with crossed arms and with all worship and reverence doing her service. He also considered the eloquence of Alaeddin and his delicacy of speech and he was astounded thereat, he and all his who were present at the levée. Thereupon fire was kindled in the Grand Wazir’s heart for envy of Alaeddin until he was like to die: and it was worse when the Sultan, after hearing the youth’s succession of prayers and seeing his high dignity of demeanour, respectful withal, and his eloquence and elegance of language, clasped him to his bosom and kissed him and cried, “Alas, O my son, that I have not enjoyed thy converse before this day!” And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Sultan beheld Alaeddin after such fashion, he rejoiced in him with mighty great joy and straightway bade the music168 and the bands strike up; then he arose and, taking the youth led him into the palace where supper had been prepared and the Eunuchs at once laid the tables. So the Sovran sat down and seated his son-in-law on his right side and the Wazirs and high officials and Lords of the land took places each according to his degree, whereupon the bands played and a mighty fine marriage-feast was dispread in the palace. The King now applied himself to making friendship with Alaeddin and conversed with the youth, who answered him with all courtesy and eloquence, as though he had been bred in the palaces of the kings or he had lived with them his daily life. And the more the talk was prolonged between them, the more did the Sultan’s pleasure and delight increase, hearing his son-in-law’s readiness of reply and his sweet flow of language. But after they had eaten and drunken and the trays were removed, the King bade summon the Kazis and witnesses who presently attended and knitted the knot and wrote out the contract-writ between Alaeddin and the Lady Badr al-Budur. And presently the bridegroom arose and would have fared forth, when his father in law withheld him and asked, “Whither away, O my child? The bride-fêtes have begun and the marriage is made and the tie is tied and the writ is written.” He replied, “O my lord the King, ’tis my desire to edify, for the Lady Badr al-Budur, a pavilion befitting her station and high degree, nor can I visit her before so doing. But, Inshallah! the building shall be finished within the shortest time, by the utmost endeavor of thy slave and by the kindly regard of thy Highness, and, although I do (yes indeed!) long to enjoy the society of the Lady Badr al-Budur, yet ’tis incumbent on me first to serve her and it becometh me to set about the work forthright.” “Look around thee, O my son,” replied the Sultan, “for what ground thou deemest suitable to thy design and do thou take all things into thy hands; but I deem the best for thee will be yonder broad plain facing my palace; and, if it please the build thy pavilion thereupon.” “And this,” answered Alaeddin “is the sum of my wishes that I may be nearhand to thy Highness. So saying he farewelled the King and took horse, with his Mamelukes riding before him and behind him, and all the world blessed him and cried, “By Allah he is deserving,” until such time as he reached his home. Then he alighted from his stallion and repairing to his chamber, rubbed the Lamp and be hold, the Slave stood before him and said, “Ask, O my lord whatso thou wantest;” and Alaeddin rejoined, “I require thee of a service grave and important which thou must do for me, and ’tis that thou build me with all urgency a pavilion fronting the palace of the Sultan; and it must be a marvel for it shall be provided with every requisite, such as royal furniture and so forth.” The Slave replied, “To hear is to obey."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Slave evanished and, before the next dawn brake, returned to Alaeddin and said, “O my lord, the pavilion is finished to the fullest of thy fancy; and, if thou wouldst inspect it, arise forthright and fare with me.” Accordingly, he rose up and the Slave carried him in the space of an eye-glance to the pavilion which, when Alaeddin looked upon it struck him with surprise at such building, all its stones being of jasper and alabaster, Sumákí169 marble and mosaic-work. Then the Slave led him into the treasury which was full of all manner of gold and silver and costly gems, not to be counted or computed, priced or estimated. Thence to another place, where Alaeddin saw all requisites for the tables, plates and dishes, spoons and ladles, basins and covers, cups and tasses, the whole of precious metal: thence to the kitchen, where they found the kitcheners provided with their needs and cooking batteries, likewise golden and silvern; thence to a warehouse piled up with chests full-packed of royal raiment, stuffs that captured the reason, such as gold-wrought brocades from India and China and kimcobs170 or orfrayed cloths; thence to many apartments replete with appointments which beggar description; thence to the stables containing coursers whose like was not to be met with amongst the kings of the universe; and, lastly, they went to the harness-rooms all hung with housings, costly saddles and other furniture, everywhere studded with pearls and precious stones. And all this was the work of one night. Alaeddin was wonder-struck and astounded by that magnificent display of wealth which not even the mightiest monarch on earth could produce; and more so to see his pavilion fully provided with eunuchs and handmaids whose beauty would seduce a saint. Yet the prime marvel of the pavilion was an upper kiosque or belvedere of four-and-twenty windows all made of emeralds and rubies and other gems; 171 and one window remained unfinished at the requirement of Alaeddin that the Sultan might prove him impotent to complete it. When the youth had inspected the whole edifice, he was pleased and gladdened exceedingly: then, turning to the Slave he said, “I require of thee still one thing which is yet wanting and whereof I had forgotten to tell thee.” “Ask, O my lord, thy want,” Quoth the Servitor; and Quoth the other, “demand of thee a carpet of the primest brocade all gold-inwrought which, when unrolled and outstretched, shall extend hence to the Sultan’s palace in order that the Lady Badr al-Budur may, when coming hither, pace upon it172 and not tread common earth.” The Slave departed for a short while and said on his return, “O my lord verily that which thou demandest is here.” Then he took him and showed him a carpet which wildered the wits, and it extended from palace to pavilion; and after this the Servitor bore off Alaeddin and set him down in his own home. And Shahrazed was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine; an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Slave, after displaying the Carpet to Alaeddin, bore him home. Now day was brightening so the Sultan rose from his sleep and throwing open the casement looked out173 and espied, opposite his palace, a palatial pavilion ready edified. Thereupon he fell to rubbing his eyes and opening them their widest and considering the scene, and he soon was certified that the new edifice was mighty fine and grand enough to be-wilder the wits. Moreover, with amazement as great he saw the carpet dispread between palace and pavilion: like their lord also the royal door-keepers and the household, one and all, were dazed and amazed at the spectacle. Meanwhile174 the Wazir came in and, as he entered, espied the newly builded pavilion and the carpet, whereat he also wondered; and, when he went in to the Sultan the twain fell to talking on this marvellous matter with great surprise at a sight which distracted the gazer and attracted the heart. They said finally, “In very truth, of this pavilion we deem that none of the royalties could build its fellow;” and the King, turning to the Minister, asked him, “Hast thou seen now that Alaeddin is worthy to be the husband of the Princess my daughter? Hast thou looked upon and considered this right royal building, this magnificence of opulence, which thought of man can not contain?” But the Wazir in his envy of Alaeddin replied, ‘O King of the Age, indeed this foundation and this building and this opulence may not be save by means of magic nor can any man in the world, be he the richest in good or the greatest in governance, avail to found and finish in a single night such edifice as this.” The Sultan rejoined, “I am surprised to see in thee how thou dost continually harp on evil opinion of Alaeddin; but I hold that ’tis caused by thine envy and jealousy. Thou west present when I gave him the ground at his own prayer for a place whereon he might build a pavilion wherein to lodge my daughter, and I myself favoured him with a site for the same and that too before thy very face. But however that be, shall one who could send me as dower for the Princess such store of such stones whereof the kings never obtained even a few, shall he, I say, be unable to edify an edifice like this?"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Wazir heard the Sultan’s words, he knew that his lord loved Alaeddin exceedingly; so his envy and malice increased; only, as he could do nothing against the youth, he sat silent and impotent to return a reply. But Alaeddin seeing that it was broad day, and the appointed time had come for his repairing to the palace (where his wedding was being celebrated and the Emirs and Wazirs and Grandees were gathered together about the Sultan to be present at the ceremony), arose and rubbed the Lamp, and when its Slave appeared and said, O my lord, ask whatso thou wantest, for I stand before thee and at thy service,” said he, “I mean forthright to seek the palace, this day being my wedding-festival and I want thee to supply me with ten thousand dinars.” The Slave evanished for an eye-twinkling and returned bringing the moneys, when Alaeddin took horse with his Mamelukes a-van and a-rear and passed on his way, scattering as he went gold pieces upon the lieges until all were fondly affected towards him and his dignity was enhanced. But when he drew near the palace, and the Emirs and Aghas and Army-officers who were standing to await him noted his approach, they hastened straightway to the King and gave him the tidings thereof; whereupon the Sultan rose and met his son-in-law and after embracing and kissing him, led him still holding his hand into his own apartment where he sat down and seated him by his right side. The city was all decorated and music rang through the palace and the singers sang until the King bade bring the noon-meal, when the eunuchs and Mamelukes hastened to spread the tables and trays which are such as are served to the kings. Then the Sultan and Alaeddin and the Lords of the land and the Grandees of the realm took their seats and ate and drank until they were satisfied. And it was a mighty fine wedding in city and palace and the high nobles all rejoiced therein and the commons of the kingdom were equally gladdened, while the Governors of provinces and Nabobs of districts flocked from far regions to witness Alaeddin’s marriage and its processions and festivities. The Sultan also marvelled in his mind to look at Alaeddin’s mother175 and recall to mind how she was wont to visit him in pauper plight, while her son could command all this opulence and magnificence. And when the spectators, who crowded the royal palace to enjoy the wedding-feasts, looked upon Alaeddin’s pavilion and the beauties of the building, they were seized with an immense surprise that so vast an edifice as this could be reared on high during a single night; and they blessed the youth and cried, “Allah gladden him! By Allah, he deserveth all this! Allah bless his days!"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her per misted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when dinner was done, Alaeddin rose and, farewelling the Sultan, took horse with his Mamelukes and rode to his own pavilion that he might prepare to receive therein his bride, the Lady Badr al-Budur. And as he passed, all the folk shouted their good wishes with one voice and their words were, “Allah gladden thee! Allah increase thy glory. Allah grant thee length of life!” while immense crowds of people gathered to swell the marriage procession and they conducted him to his new home, he showering gold upon them during the whole time. When he reached his pavilion, he dismounted and walked in and sat him down on the divan, whilst his Mamelukes stood before him with arms afolded; also after a short delay they brought him sherbets and, when these were drunk, he ordered his white slaves and handmaids and eunuchs and all who were in the pavilion to make ready for meeting the Lady Badr al-Budur. Moreover, as soon as mid-afternoon came and the air had cooled and the great heat of the sun was abated, the Sultan bade his Army-officers and Emirs and Wazirs go down into the Maydán plain176 whither he likewise rode. And Alaeddin also took horse with his Mamelukes, he mounting a stallion whose like was not among the steeds of the Arab al-Arbá,177 and he showed his horsemanship in the hippodrome and so played with the Jaríd178 that none could withstand him, while his bride sat gazing upon him from the latticed balcony of her bower and, seeing in him such beauty and cavalarice, she fell headlong in love of him and was like to fly for joy. And after they had ringed their horses on the Maydan and each had displayed whatso he could of horsemanship, Alaeddin proving himself the best man of all, they rode in a body to the Sultan’s palace and the youth also returned to his own pavilion. But when it was evening, the Wazirs and Nobles took the bridegroom and, falling in, escorted him to the royal Hammam (known as the Sultání), when he was bathed and perfumed. As soon as he came out he donned a dress more magnificent than the former and took horse with the Emirs and the soldier-officers riding before him and forming a grand cortége, wherein four of the Wazirs bore naked swords round about him.179 All the citizens and the strangers and the troops marched before him in ordered throng carrying wax-candles and kettle drums and pipes and other instruments of mirth and merriment, until they conducted him to his pavilion. Here he alighted and walking in took his seat and seated the Wazirs and Emirs who had escorted him, and the Mamelukes brought sherbets and sugared drinks, which they also passed to the people who had followed in his train. It was a world of folk whose tale might not be told; withal Alaeddin bade his Mamelukes stand without the pavilion-doors and shower gold upon the crowd. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Sultan returned from the Maydan-plain to his palace he ordered the household, men as well as women, straightway to form a cavalcade for his daughter, with all ceremony, and bear her to her bridegroom’s pavilion. So the nobles and soldier-officers, who had followed and escorted the bridegroom, at once mounted, and the handmaids and eunuchs went forth with wax-candles and made a mighty fine procession for the Lady Badr al-Budur and they paced on preceding her till they entered the pavilion of Alaeddin whose mother walked beside the bride. In front of the Princess also fared the wives of the Wazirs and Emirs, Grandees and Notables, and in attendance on her were the eight and forty slave-girls presented to her aforetime by her bridegroom, each hending in hand a huge cierge scented with camphor and ambergris and set in a candlestick of gem-studded gold. And reaching Alaeddin’s pavilion they led her to her bower in the upper storey and changed her robes and enthroned her; then, as soon as the displaying was ended, they accompanied her to Alaeddin’s apartments and presently he paid her the first visit. Now his mother was with the bride and, when the bridegroom came up and did off her veil, the ancient dame fell to considering the beauty of the Princess and her loveliness; and she looked around at the pavilion which was all litten up by gold and gems besides the manifold candelabra of precious metals encrusted with emeralds and jacinths; so she said in her mind, “Once upon a time I thought the Sultan’s palace mighty fine, but this pavilion is a thing apart; nor do I deem that any of the greatest Kings of Chosroës attained in his day to aught like thereof; also am I certified that all the world could not build anything evening it.” Nor less did the lady Badr al-Budur fall to gazing at the pavilion and marvelling for its magnificence. Then the tables were spread and they all ate and drank and were gladdened; after which fourscore damsels came before them each holding in hand an instrument of mirth and merriment; then they deftly moved their finger tips and touched the strings smiting them into song, most musical, most melancholy, till they rent the hearts of the hearers. Hereat the Princess increased in marvel and Quoth she to herself, “In all my life ne’er heard I songs like these,”180 till she forsook food, the better to listen. And at last Alaeddin poured out for her wine and passed it to her with his own hand; so great joy and jubilee went round amongst them and it was a notable night, such an one as Iskander, Lord of the Two Horns,181 had never spent in his time. When they had finished eating and drinking and the tables were removed from before them, Alaeddin arose and went in to his bride.182 As soon as morning morrowed he left his bed and the treasurer brought him a costly suit and a mighty fine, of the most sumptuous robes worn by the kings. Then, after drinking coffee devoured with ambergris, he ordered the horses be saddled and, mounting with his Mamelukes before and behind him, rode to the Sultan’s palace and on his entering its court the eunuchs went in and reported his coming to their lord. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, ‘With love and good will."—-It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Sultan heard of Alaeddin’s approach, he rose up forthright to receive him and embraced and kissed him as though he were his own son: then, seating him on his right, he blessed and prayed for him, as did the Wazirs and Emirs, the Lords of the land and the Grandees of the realm. Presently, the King commanded bring the morning-meal which the attendants served up and all broke their fast together, and when they had eaten and drunken their sufficiency and the tables were removed by the eunuchs, Alaeddin turned to the Sultan and said, “O my lord, would thy Highness deign honour me this day at dinner, in the house of the Lady Badr al-Budur thy beloved daughter, and come accompanied by all thy Ministers and Grandees of the reign?” The King replied (and he was delighted with his son-in-law), “Thou art surpassing in liberality, O my son!” Then he gave orders to all invited and rode forth with them (Alaeddin also riding beside him) till they reached the pavilion and as he entered it and considered its construction, its architecture and its stonery, all jasper and carnelian, his sight was dazed and his wits were amazed at such grandeur and magnificence of opulence. Then turning to the Minister he thus addressed him, “What sayest thou? Tell me hast thou seen in all thy time aught like this amongst the mightiest of earth’s monarchs for the abundance of gold and gems we are now beholding?” The Grand Wazir replied, “O my lord the King, this be a feat which cannot be accomplished by might of monarch amongst Adam’s sons; 183 nor could the collected peoples of the universal world build a palace like unto this; nay, even builders could not be found to make aught resembling it, save (as I said to thy Highness) by force of sorcery.” These words certified the King that his Minister spake not except in envy end jealousy of Alaeddin, and would stablish in the royal mind that all this splendour was not made of man but by means of magic and with the aid of the Black Art. So Quoth he to him, “Suffice thee so much, O Wazir: thou hast none other word to speak and well I know what cause urgeth thee to say this say.” Then Alaeddin preceded the Sultan till he conducted him to the upper Kiosque where he saw its skylights, windows and latticed casements and jalousies wholly made of emeralds and rubies and other costly gems; whereat his mind was perplexed and his wits were bewildered and his thoughts were distraught. Presently he took to strolling round the Kiosque and solacing himself with these sights which captured the vision, till he chanced to cast a glance at the window which Alaeddin by design had left unwrought and not finished like the rest; and, when he noted its lack of completion, he cried, “Woe and well away for thee, O window, because of thine imperfection;”184 and, turning to his Minister he asked, “Knowest thou the reason of leaving incomplete this window and its framework?"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Wazir said to the Sultan, “O my lord, I conceive that the want of finish in this window resulteth from thy Highness having pushed on Alaeddin’s marriage and he lacked the leisure to complete it.” Now at that time, Alaeddin had gone in to his bride, the Lady Badr al-Budur, to inform her of her father’s presence; and, when he returned, the King asked him, “O my son what is the reason why the window of this Kiosque was not made perfect?” “O King of the Age, seeing the suddenness of my wedding,” answered he, “I failed to find artists for finishing it.” Quoth the Sultan, “I have a mind to complete it myself;” and Quoth Alaeddin, “Allah perpetuate thy glory, O thou the King; so shall thy memory endure in thy daughter’s pavilion.” The Sultan forthright bade summon jewellers and goldsmiths and ordered them be supplied from the treasury with all their needs of gold and gems and noble ores; and, when they were gathered together he commanded them to complete the work still wanting in the Kiosque-window. Meanwhile the Princess came forth to meet her sire the Sultan who noticed, as she drew near, her smiling face; so he embraced her and kissed her, then led her to the pavilion and all entered in a body. Now this was the time of the noon day meal and one table had been spread for the Sovran, his daughter and his son-in-law and a second for the Wazirs, the Lords of the land, the Grandees of the realm, the Chief Officers of the host, the Chamberlains and the Nabobs. The King took seat between the Princess and her husband; and, when he put forth his hand to the food and tasted it, he was struck with surprise by the flavour of the dishes and their savoury and sumptuous cooking. Moreover, there stood before him the fourscore damsels each and every saying to the full moon, “Rise that I may seat myself in thy stead!”185 All held instruments of mirth and merriment and they tuned the same and deftly moved their finger-tips and smote the strings into song most musical, most melodious, which expanded the mourner’s heart. Hereby the Sultan was gladdened and time was good to him and for high enjoyment he exclaimed, “In very sooth the thing is beyond the compass of King and Kaysar.” Then they fell to eating and drinking; and the cup went round until they had drunken enough, when sweetmeats and fruits of sorts and other such edibles were served, the dessert being laid out in a different salon whither they removed and enjoyed of these pleasures their sufficiency. Presently the Sultan arose that he might see if the produce of his jewellers and goldsmiths favoured that of the pavilion; so he went upstairs to them and inspected their work and how they had wrought; but he noted a mighty great difference and his men were far from being able to make anything like the rest of Alaeddin’s pavilion. And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that after the King had inspected the work of his jewellers and goldsmiths, they informed him how all the gems stored in the Lesser Treasury had been brought to them and used by them but that the whole had proved insufficient; wherefor he bade open the Greater Treasury and gave the workmen all they wanted of him. Moreover he allowed them, an it sufficed not, to take the jewels wherewith Alaeddin had gifted him. They carried off the whole and pushed on their labours but they found the gems fail them, albeit had they not yet finished half the part wanting to the Kiosque-window. Herewith the King commended them to seize all the precious stones owned by the Wazirs and Grandees of the realm; but, although they did his bidding, the supply still fell short of their requirements. Next morning Alaeddin arose to look at the jeweller’s work and remarked that they had not finished a moiety of what was wanting to the Kiosque-window: so he at once ordered them to undo all they had done and restore the jewels to their owners. Accordingly, they pulled out the precious stones and sent the Sultan’s to the Sultan and the Wazirs’ to the Wazirs. Then the jewellers went to the King and told him of what Alaeddin had bidden; so he asked them, “What said he to you, and what was his reason and wherefore was he not content that the window be finished and why did he undo the work ye wrought?” They answered, “O our lord, we know not at all, but he bade us deface whatso we had done.” Hereupon the Sultan at once called for his horse, and mounting, took the way pavilion-wards, when Alaeddin, after dismissing the goldsmiths and jewellers had retired into his closet and had rubbed the Lamp. Hereat straightway its Servitor appeared to him and said, “Ask whatso thou wantest: thy Slave is between thy hands;” and said Alaeddin, “ ’tis my desire that thou finish the window which was left unfinished.” The Marid replied, “On my head be it and also upon mine eyes!” then he vanished and after a little while returned saying, “O my lord, verily that thou commandedst me do is completed.” So Alaeddin went upstairs to the Kiosque and found the whole window in wholly finished state; and, whilst he was still considering it, behold, a castrato came in to him and said, “O my lord, the Sultan hath ridden forth to visit thee and is passing through the pavilion-gate.” So Alaeddin at once went down and received his father-in-law. And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."—-It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Sultan, on sighting his son-in-law, cried to him, “Wherefore, O my child, hast thou wrought on this wise and sufferedst not the jewellers to complete the Kiosque-window leaving in the pavilion an unfinished place?” Alaeddin replied “O King of the Age, I left it not imperfect save for a design of mine own; nor was I incapable of perfecting it nor could I purpose that thy Highness should honour me with visiting a pavilion wherein was aught of deficiency. And, that thou mayest know I am not unable to make it perfect, let thy Highness deign walk upstairs with me and see if anything remain to be done therewith or not.” So the Sultan went up with him and, entering the Kiosque, fell to looking right and left, but he saw no default at all in any of the windows; nay, he noted that all were perfect. So he marvelled at the sight and embraced Alaeddin and kissed him, saying, “O my son, what be this singular feat? Thou canst work in a single night what in months the jewellers could not do. By Allah, I deem thou hast nor brother nor rival in this world.” Quoth Alaeddin, “Allah prolong thy life and preserve thee to perpetuity! thy slave deserveth not this encomium;” and Quoth the King, “By Allah, O my child, thou meritest all praise for a feat whereof all the artists of the world were incapable.” Then the Sultan came clown and entered the apartments of his daughter the Lady Badr al-Budur, to take rest beside her, and he saw her joyous exceedingly at the glory and grandeur wherein she was; then, after reposing awhile he returned to his palace. Now Alaeddin was wont every day to thread the city-streets with his Mamelukes riding a-van and a-rear of him showering rightwards and leftwards gold upon the folk; and all the world, stranger and neighbour, far and near, were fulfilled of his love for the excess of his liberality and generosity. Moreover he increased the pensions of the poor Religious and the paupers and he would distribute alms to them with his own hand; by which good deed, he won high renown throughout the realm and most of the Lords of the land and Emirs would eat at his table; and men swore not at all save by his precious life. Nor did he leave faring to the chase and the Maydan-plain and the riding of horses and playing at javelin-play186 in presence of the Sultan; and, whenever the Lady Badr al-Budur beheld him disporting himself on the backs of steeds, she loved him much the more, and thought to herself that Allah had wrought her abundant good by causing to happen whatso happened with the son of the Wazir and by preserving her virginity intact for her true bridegroom, Alaeddin. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales.” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin won for himself day by day a fairer fame and a rarer report, while affection for him increased in the hearts of all the lieges and he waxed greater in the eyes of men. Moreover it chanced that in those days certain enemies took horse and attacked the Sultan, who armed and accoutred an army to repel them and made Alaeddin commander thereof. So he marched with his men nor ceased marching until he drew near the foe whose forces were exceeding many; and, presently, when the action began he bared his brand and charged home upon the enemy. Then battle and slaughter befel and violent was the hurry-burly, but at last Alaeddin broke the hostile host and put all to flight, slaying the best part of them and pillaging their coin and cattle, property and possessions; and he despoiled them of spoils that could not be counted nor computed. Then he returned victorious after a noble victory and entered the capital which had decorated herself in his honour, of her delight in him; and the Sultan went forth to meet him and giving him joy embraced him and kissed him; and throughout the kingdom was held high festival with great joy and gladness. Presently, the Sovran and his son-in-law repaired to the pavilion where they were met by the Princess Badr al-Budur who rejoiced in her husband and, after kissing him between the eyes, led him to her apartments. After a time the Sultan also came and they sat down while the slave-girls brought them sherbets and confections which they ate and drank. Then the Sultan commanded that the whole kingdom be decorated for the triumph of his son-in-law and his victory over the invader; and the subjects and soldiery and all the people knew only Allah in heaven and Alaeddin on earth; for that their love, won by his liberality, was increased by his noble horsemanship and his successful battling for the country and putting to flight the foe. Such then was the high fortune of Alaeddin; but as regards the Maghrabi, the Magician, after returning to his native country, he passed all this space of time in bewailing what he had borne of toil and travail to win the Lamp and mostly that his trouble had gone vain and that the morsel when almost touching his lips had flown from his grasp. He pondered all this and mourned and reviled Alaeddin for the excess of his rage against him and at times he would exclaim, “For this bastard’s death underground I am well satisfied and hope only that some time or other I may obtain the Lamp, seeing how ’tis yet safe.” Now one day of the days he struck a table of sand and dotted down the figures and carefully considered their consequence; then he transferred them to paper that he might study them and make sure of Alaeddin’s destruction and the safety of the Lamp preserved beneath the earth. Presently, he firmly stablished the sequence of the figures, mothers as well as daughters,187 but still he saw not the Lamp. Thereupon rage overrode him and he made another trial to be assured of Alaeddin’s death; but he saw him not in the Enchanted Treasure. Hereat his wrath still grew, and it waxed greater when he ascertained that the youth had issued from underground and was now upon earth’s surface alive and alert: furthermore, that he had become owner of the Lamp, for which he had himself endured such toil and travail and troubles as man may not bear save for so great an object. Accordingly Quoth he to himself, “I have suffered sore pains and penalties which none else could have endured for the Lamp’s sake in order that other than I may carry it off; and this Accursed hath taken it without difficulty. And who knoweth an he wot the virtues of the Lamp, than whose owner none in the world should be wealthier?” And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, having considered and ascertained that Alaeddin had escaped from the souterrain and had gotten the boon of the Lamp, said to himself, “There is no help but that I work for his destruction.” He then struck another geomantic table and examining the figures saw that the lad had won for himself unmeasurable riches and had wedded the daughter of his King; so of his envy and jealousy he was fired with the flame of wrath; and, rising without let or stay, he equipped himself and set forth for China-land, where he arrived in due season. Now when he had reached the King’s capital wherein was Alaeddin, he alighted at one of the Kháns; and, when he had rested from the weariness of wayfare, he donned his dress and went down to wander about the streets, where he never passed a group without hearing them prate about the pavilion and its grandeur and vaunt the beauty of Alaeddin and his lonesomeness, his liberality and generosity, his fine manners and his good morals. Presently he entered an establishment wherein men were drinking a certain warm beverage;188 and, going up to one of those who were loud in their lauds, he said to him, “O fair youth, who may be the man ye describe and commend?” “Apparently thou art a foreigner, O man,” answered the other, “and thou comest from a far country; but, even this granted, how happeneth it thou hast not heard of the Emir Alaeddin whose renown, I fancy, hath filled the universe and whose pavilion, known by report to far and near, is one of the Wonders of the World? How, then, never came to thine ears aught of this or the name of Alaeddin (whose glory and enjoyment our Lord increase!) and his fame?” The Moorman replied, “The sum of my wishes is to look upon this pavilion and, if thou wouldest do me a favour, prithee guide me thereunto, for I am a foreigner.” The man rejoined, “To hear is to obey;” and, foregoing him pointed out Alaeddin’s pavilion, whereupon the Maroccan fell to considering it and at once understood that it was the work of the Lamp. So he cried, “Ah! Ah! needs must I dig a pit for this Accursed, this son of a snip, who could not earn for himself even an evening meal: and, if the Fates abet me, I will assuredly destroy his life and send his mother back to spinning at her wheel, e’en as she was wont erewhiles to do.” So saying, he returned to his caravanserai in a sore state of grief and melancholy and regret bred by his envy and hate of Alaeddin. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Maghrabi, the Magician, reached his caravanserai, he took his astrological gear189 and geomantic table to discover where might be the Lamp; and he found that it was in the pavilion and not upon Alaeddin’s person. So he rejoiced thereat with joy exceeding and exclaimed, “Now indeed ’twill be an easy task to take the life of this Accursed and I see my way to getting the Lamp.” Then he went to a coppersmith and said to him, “Do thou make me a set of lamps and take from me their full price and more; only I would have thee hasten to finish them.” Replied the smith, “Hearing and obeying,” and fell aworking to keep his word; and when they were ready the Moorman paid him what price he required; then taking them he carried them to the Khan and set them in a basket. Presently he began wandering about the highways and market-streets of the capital crying aloud, “Ho! who will exchange old lamps for new lamps?”190 But when the folk heard him cry on this wise, they derided him and said, “Doubtless this man is Jinn-mad, for that he goeth about offering new for old;” and a world followed him and the children of the quarter caught him up from place to place, laughing at him the while, nor did he forbid them or care for their maltreatment. And he ceased not strolling about the streets till he came under Alaeddin’s pavilion,191 where he shouted with his loudest voice and the boys screamed at him, “A madman! A madman!” Now Destiny had decreed that the Lady Badr al-Budur be sitting in her Kiosque whence she heard one crying like a crier, and the children bawling at him; only she understood not what was going on; so she gave orders to one of her slave-girls saying,192 “Go thou and see who ’tis that crieth and what be his cry?” The girl fared forth and looked on when she beheld a man crying, “Ho! who will exchange old lamps for new lamps?” and the little ones pursuing and laughing at him; and as loudly laughed the Princess when this strange case was told to her. Now Alaeddin had carelessly left the Lamp in his pavilion without hiding it and locking it up in his strong box;193 and one of the slave-girls who had seen it said, “O my lady, I think to have noticed, in the apartment of my lord Alaeddin, an old lamp: so let us give it in change for a new lamp to this man, and see if his cry be truth or lie."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, ‘With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that hereupon the Princess said to the slave-girl, ‘Bring the old lamp which thou saidst to have seen in thy lord’s apartment.” Now the Lady Badr al-Budur knew naught of the Lamp and of the specialties thereof which had raised Alaeddin her spouse to such high degree and grandeur; and her only end and aim was to understand by experiment the mind of a man who would give in exchange the new for the old. So the handmaid fared forth and went up to Alaeddin’s apartment and returned with the Lamp to her lady who, like all the others, knew nothing of the Maghrabi’s cunning tricks and his crafty device. Then the Princess bade an Aghá of the eunuchry go down and barter the old Lamp for a new lamp. So he obeyed her bidding and, after taking a new lamp from the man, he returned and laid it before his lady who looking at it and seeing that it was brand-new, fell to laughing at the Moorman’s wits. But the Maroccan, when he held the article in hand and recognised it for the Lamp of the Enchanted Treasury,194 at once placed it in his breast-pocket and left all the other lamps to the folk who were bartering of him. Then he went forth running till he was clear of the city, when he walked leisurely over the level grounds and he took patience until night fell on him in desert ground where was none other but himself. There he brought out the Lamp when suddenly appeared to him the Marid who said, “Adsum! thy slave between thy hands is come: ask of me whatso thou wantest.” “ ’tis my desire,” the Moorman replied, “that thou upraise from its present place Alaeddin’s pavilion with its inmates and all that be therein, not forgetting myself, and set it down upon my own land, Africa. Thou knowest my town and I want the building placed in the gardens hard by it.” The Marid-slave replied, “Hearkening and obedience: close thine eyes and open thine eyes whenas thou shalt find thyself together with the pavilion in thine own country.” This was done; and, in an eye-twinkling, the Maroccan and the pavilion with all therein were transported to the African land. Such then was the work of the Maghrabi, the Magician; but now let us return to the Sultan and his son-in-law. It was the custom of the King, because of his attachment to and his affection for his daughter, every morning when he had shaken off sleep, to open the latticed casement and look out therefrom that he might catch sight of her abode. So that day he arose and did as he was wont. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Sultan drew near the latticed casement of his palace and looked out at Alaeddin’s pavilion he saw naught; nay, the site was smooth as a well-trodden highway and like unto what it had been aforetime; and he could find nor edifice nor offices. So astonishment clothed him as with a garment, and his wits were wildered and he began to rub his eyes, lest they be dimmed or darkened, and to gaze intently; but at last he was certified that no trace of the pavilion remained nor sign of its being; nor wist he the why and the wherefore of its disappearance. So his surprise increased and he smote hand upon hand and the tears trickled down his cheeks over his beard, for that he knew not what had become of his daughter. Then he sent out officials forthright and summoned the Grand Wazir who at once attended; and, seeing him in this piteous plight said, ‘Pardon, O King of the Age, may Allah avert from thee every ill! Wherefore art thou in such sorrow?” Exclaimed the Sovran, “Methinketh thou wottest not my case?” and Quoth the Minister, “On no wise. O our lord: by Allah, I know of it nothing at all.” “Then,” resumed the Sultan, “ ’tis manifest thou hast not looked this day in the direction of Alaeddin’s pavilion.” “True, O my lord,” Quoth the Wazir, “it must still be locked and fast shut;” and Quoth the King, “Forasmuch as thou hast no inkling of aught,195 arise and look out at the window and see Alaeddin’s pavilion whereof thou sayest ’tis locked and fast shut.” The Minister obeyed his bidding but could not see anything, or pavilion or other place; so with mind and thoughts sore perplexed he returned to his liege lord who asked him, “Hast now learned the reason of my distress and noted yon locked-up palace and fast shut?” Answered the Wazir, “O King of the Age erewhile I represented to thy Highness that this pavilion and these matters be all magical.” Hereat the Sultan, fired with wrath, cried, “Where be Alaeddin?” and the Minister replied, “He hath gone a-hunting,” when the King commanded without stay or delay sundry of his Aghas and Army-officers to go and bring to him his son-in-law chained and with pinioned elbows. So they fared forth until they found Alaeddin when they said to him, “O our lord Alaeddin, excuse us nor be thou wroth with us; for the King hath commanded that we carry thee before him pinioned and fettered, and we hope pardon from thee because we are under the royal orders which we cannot gainsay.” Alaeddin, hearing these words, was seized with surprise and not knowing the reason of this remained tongue-tied for a time, after which he turned to them and asked, “O assembly, have you naught of knowledge concerning the motive of the royal mandate? Well I wot my soul to be innocent and that I never sinned against king or against kingdom.” “O our lord,” answered they, “we have no inkling whatever.” So Alaeddin alighted from his horse and said to them, “Do ye whatso the Sultan bade you do, for that the King’s command is upon the head and the eyes.”196— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Aghas, having bound Alaeddin in bonds and pinioned his elbows behind his back, haled him in chains and carried him into the city. But when the lieges saw him pinioned and ironed, they understood that the Sultan purposed to strike off his head; and, forasmuch as he was loved of them exceedingly, all gathered together and seized their weapons; then, swarming out of their houses, followed the soldiery to see what was to do. And when the troops arrived with Alaeddin at the palace, they went in and informed the Sultan of this, whereat he forthright commanded the Sworder to cut off the head of his son-in-law. Now as soon as the subjects were aware of this order, they barricaded the gates and closed the doors of the palace and sent a message to the King saying, “At this very moment we will level thine abode over the heads of all it containeth and over thine own,197 if the least hurt or harm befal Alaeddin.” So the Wazir went in and reported to the Sultan, “O King of the Age, thy commandment is about to seal the roll of our lives; and ’twere more suitable that thou pardon thy son-in-law lest there chance to us a sore mischance; for that the lieges do love him far more than they love us.” Now the Sworder had already dispread the carpet of blood and, having seated Alaeddin thereon, had bandaged his eyes; moreover he had walked round him several times awaiting the last orders of his lord, when the King looked out of the window and saw his subjects, who had suddenly attacked him, swarming up the walls intending to tear them down. So forthright he bade the Sworder stay his hand from Alaeddin and commanded the crier fare forth to the crowd and cry aloud that he had pardoned his son-in-law and received him back into favour. But when Alaeddin found himself free and saw the Sultan seated on his throne, he went up to him and said, “O my lord, inasmuch as thy Highness hath favoured me throughout my life, so of thy grace now deign let me know the how and the wherein I have sinned against thee?” “O traitor, cried the King, “unto this present I knew not any sin of thine;” then, turning to the Wazir he said, “Take him and make him look out at the window and after let him tell us where be his pavilion.” And when the royal order was obeyed Alaeddin saw the place level as a well trodden road, even as it had been ere the base of the building was laid, nor was there the faintest trace of edifice. Hereat he was astonished and perplexed knowing not what had occurred; but, when he returned to the presence, the King asked him, “What is it thou hast seen? Where is thy pavilion and where is my daughter, the core of my heart, my only child, than whom I have none other?” Alaeddin answered “O King of the Age, I wot naught thereof nor aught of what hath befallen,” and the Sultan rejoined, “Thou must know, O Alaeddin, I have pardoned thee only that thou go forth and look into this affair and enquire for me concerning my daughter; nor do thou ever show thyself in my presence except she be with thee; and, if thou bring her not, by the life of my head, I will cut off the head of thee.” The other replied, “To hear is to obey: only vouchsafe me a delay and respite of some forty days; after which, an I produce her not, strike off my head198 and do with me whatso thou wishes”."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Sultan said to Alaeddin, “Verily I have granted thee thy request, a delay of forty days; but think not thou canst fly from my hand, for I would bring thee back even if thou wert above the clouds instead of being only upon earth’s surface.” Replied Alaeddin, “O my lord the Sultan, as I said to thy Highness, an I fail to bring her within the term appointed, I will present myself for my head to be stricken off.” Now when the folk and the lieges all saw Alaeddin at liberty, they rejoiced with joy exceeding and were delighted for his release; but the shame of his treatment and bashfulness before his friends and the envious exultation of his foes had bowed down Alaeddin’s head; so he went forth a wandering through the city ways and he was perplexed concerning his case and knew not what had befallen him. He lingered about the capital for two days, in saddest state, wotting not what to do in order to find his wife and his pavilion, and during this time sundry of the folk privily brought him meat and drink. When the two days were done he left the city to stray about the waste and open lands outlying the walls, without a notion as to whither he should wend; and he walked on aimlessly until the path led him beside a river where, of the stress of sorrow that overwhelmed him, he abandoned himself to despair and thought of casting himself into the water. Being, however, a good Moslem who professed the unity of the God-head, he feared Allah in his soul; and, standing upon the margin he prepared to perform the Wuzú-ablution. But as he was baling up the water in his right hand and rubbing his fingers,199 it so chanced that he also rubbed the Ring. Hereat its Marid appeared and said to him, “Adsum! thy thrall between thy hands is come: ask of me whatso thou wantest.” Seeing the Marid, Alaeddin rejoiced with exceeding joy and cried,200 “O Slave, I desire of thee that thou bring before me my pavilion and therein my wife, the Lady Badr al-Budur, together with all and everything it containeth.” “O my lord,” replied the Marid, “ ’tis right hard upon me that thou demandest a service whereto I may not avail: this matter dependeth upon the Slave of the Lamp nor dare I even attempt it.” Alaeddin rejoined, “Forasmuch as the matter is beyond thy competence, I require it not of thee, but at least do thou take me up and set me down beside my pavilion in what land soever that may be.” The Slave exclaimed, “Hearing and obeying, O my lord;” and, uplifting him high in air, with in the space of an eye-glance set him down beside his pavilion in the land of Africa and upon a spot facing his wife’s apartment. Now this was at fall of night yet one look enabled him to recognise his home; whereby his cark and care were cleared away and he recovered trust in Allah after cutting off all his hope to look upon his wife once more. Then he fell to pondering the secret and mysterious favours of the Lord (glorified be His omnipotence!); and how, after despair had mastered him, the Ring had come to gladden him and how, when all his hopes were cut off Allah had deigned bless him with the services of its Slave. So he rejoiced and his melancholy left him; then, as he had passed four days without sleep for the excess of his cark and care and sorrow and stress of thought, he drew near his pavilion and slept under a tree hard by the building which (as we mentioned) had been set down amongst the gardens outlying the city of Africa. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin lay that night under a tree beside his pavilion in all restfulness; but whoso weareth head hard by the headsman may not sleep o’ nights save whenas slumber prevail over him. He slumbered till Morning showed her face and, when awakened by the warbling of the small birds, he arose and went down to the bank of the river which flowed thereby into the city; and here he again washed hands and face 201 and after finished his Wuzú-ablution. Then he prayed the dawn-prayer, and when he had ended his orisons he returned and sat down under the windows of the Princess’s bower. Now the Lady Badr al-Budur, of her exceeding sorrow for severance from her husband and her sire the Sultan, and for the great mishap which had happened to her from the Maghrabi, the Magician, the Accursed, was wont to rise during the murk preceding dawn and to sit in tears inasmuch as she could not sleep o’ nights, and had forsworn meat and drink. Her favourite slave-girl would enter her chamber at the hour of prayer-salutation in order to dress her; and this time, by decree of Destiny, when she threw open the window to let her lady comfort and console herself by looking upon the trees and rills, and she herself peered out of the lattice, she caught sight of her master sitting below, and informed the Princess of this, saying, “O my lady! O my lady! here’s my lord Alaeddin seated at the foot of the wall.” So her mistress arose hurriedly and gazing from the casement saw him; and her husband raising his head saw her; so she saluted him and he saluted her, both being like to fly for joy. Presently Quoth she, “Up and come in to me by the private postern, for now the Accursed is not here;” and she gave orders to the slave-girl who went down and opened for him. Then Alaeddin passed through it and was met by his wife, when they embraced and exchanged kisses with all delight until they wept for overjoy. After this they sat down and Alaeddin said to her, “O my lady, before all things ’tis my desire to ask thee a question. ’Twas my wont to place an old copper lamp in such a part of my pavilion, what became of that same?” When the Princess heard these words she sighed and cried, “O my dearling, ’twas that very Lamp which garred us fall into this calamity!” Alaeddin asked her, “How befel the affair?” and she answered by recounting to him all that passed, first and last, especially how they had given in exchange an old lamp for a new lamp, adding, “And next day we hardly saw one another at dawn before we found ourselves in this land, and he who deceived us and took the lamp by way of barter informed me that he had done the deed by might of his magic and by means of the Lamp; that he is a Moorman from Africa, and that we are now in his native country."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Lady Badr al-Budur ceased speaking, Alaeddin resumed, “Tell me the intent of this Accursed in thy respect, also what he sayeth to thee and what be his will of thee?” She replied, “Every day he cometh to visit me once and no more: he would woo me to his love and he sueth that I take him to spouse in lieu of thee and that I forget thee and be consoled for the loss of thee. And he telleth me that the Sultan my sire hath cut off my husband’s head, adding that thou, the son of pauper parents, wast by him enriched. And he sootheth me with talk, but he never seeth aught from me save weeping and wailing; nor hath he heard from me one sugar-sweet word.”202 Quoth Alaeddin, “Tell me where he hath placed the Lamp an thou know anything thereof:” and Quoth she, “He beareth it about on his body alway, nor is it possible that he leave it for a single hour; moreover once when he related what I have now recounted to thee, he brought it out of his breast-pocket and allowed me to look upon it.” When Alaeddin heard these words, he joyed with exceeding joy and said, “O my lady, do thou lend ear to me. ’Tis my design to go from thee forthright and to return only after doffing this my dress; so wonder not when thou see me changed, but direct one of thy women to stand by the private pastern alway and, whenever she espy me coming, at once to open. And now I will devise a device whereby to slay this damned loon.” Herewith he arose and, issuing from the pavilion door, walked till he met on the way a Fellah to whom he said, “O man, take my attire and give me thy garments.” But the peasant refused, so Alaeddin stripped him of his dress perforce203 and donned it, leaving to the man his own rich gear by way of gift. Then he followed the highway leading to the neighbouring city and entering it went to the Perfumers’ Bazar where he bought of one some rarely potent Bhang, the son of a minute,204 paying two dinars for two drachms thereof and he returned in disguise by the same road till he reached the pavilion. Here the slave-girl opened to him the private pastern wherethrough he went in to the Lady Badr al-Budur. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when Alaeddin went in disguised to his wife he said, “Hear me! I desire of thee that thou dress and dight thyself in thy best and thou cast off all outer show and semblance of care; also when the Accursed, the Maghrabi, shall visit thee, do thou receive him with a ‘Welcome and fair welcome,’ and meet him with smiling face and invite him to come and sup with thee. Moreover, let him note that thou hast forgotten Alaeddin thy beloved, likewise thy father; and that thou hast learned to love him with exceeding love, displaying to him all manner joy and pleasure. Then ask him for wine which must be red and pledge him to his secret in a significant draught; and, when thou hast given him two to three cups full and hast made him wax careless, then drop these drops into his cup and fill it up with wine: no sooner shall he drink of it than he will fall upon his back senseless as one dead.” Hearing these words, the Princess exclaimed, “’Tis exceedingly sore to me that I do such deed;205 withal must I do it that we escape the defilement of this Accursed who tortured me by severance from thee and from my sire. Lawful and right therefore is the slaughter of this Accursed.” Then Alaeddin ate and drank with his wife what hindered his hunger; then, rising without stay or delay, fared forth the pavilion. So the Lady Badr al-Budur summoned the tirewoman who robed and arrayed her in her finest raiment and adorned her and perfumed her; and, as she was thus, behold, the accursed Maghrabi entered. He joyed much seeing her in such case and yet more when she confronted him, contrary to her custom, with a laughing face; and his love-longing increased and his desire to have her. Then she took him and, seating him beside her, said, “O my dearling, do thou (an thou be willing) come to me this night and let us sup together. Sufficient to me hath been my sorrow for, were I to sit mourning through a thousand years or even two thousand, Alaeddin would not return to me from the tomb; and I depend upon thy say of yesterday, to wit, that my sire the Sultan slew him in his stress of sorrow for severance from me. Nor wonder thou an I have changed this day from what I was yesterday; and the reason thereof is I have determined upon taking thee to friend and playfellow in lieu of and succession to Alaeddin, for that now I have none other man but thyself. So I hope for thy presence this night, that we may sup together and we may carouse and drink somewhat of wine each with other; and especially ’tis my desire that thou cause me taste the wine of thy natal soil, the African land, because belike ’tis better than aught of the wine of China we drink: I have with me some wine but ’tis the growth of my country and I vehemently wish to taste the wine produced by thine.” And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that when the Maghrabi saw the love lavisht upon him by the Lady Badr al-Budur, and noted her change from the sorrowful, melancholy woman she was wont to be, he thought that she had cut off her hope of Alaeddin and he joyed exceedingly and said to her, “I hear and obey, O my lady, whatso thou wishest and all thou biddest. I have at home a jar of our country wine, which I have carefully kept and stored deep in earth for a space of eight years; and I will now fare and fill from it our need and will return to thee in all haste.” But the Princess, that she might wheedle him the more and yet more, replied “O my darling, go not thou, leaving me alone, but send one of the eunuchs to fill for us thereof and do thou remain sitting beside me, that I may find in thee my consolation.” He rejoined, “O my lady, none wotteth where the jar be buried save myself nor will I tarry from thee.” So saying, the Moorman went out and after a short time he brought back as much wine as they wanted whereupon Quoth the Princess to him, “Thou hast been at pains and trouble to serve me and I have suffered for thy sake, O my beloved.” Quoth he, “On no wise, O eyes of me; I hold myself enhonoured by thy service.” Then the Lady Badr al-Budur sat with him at table, and the twain fell to eating and presently the Princess expressed a wish to drink, when the handmaid filled her a cup forthright and then crowned another for the Maroccan. So she drank to his long life and his secret wishes and he also drank to her life; then the Princess, who was unique in eloquence and delicacy of speech, fell to making a cup companion of him and beguiled him by addressing him in the sweetest terms full of hidden meaning. This was done only that he might become more madly enamoured of her, but the Maghrabi thought that it resulted from her true inclination for him; nor knew that it was a snare set up to slay him. So his longing for her increased, and he was dying of love for her when he saw her address him in such tenderness of words and thoughts, and his head began to swim and all the world seemed as nothing in his eyes. But when they came to the last of the supper and the wine had mastered his brains and the Princess saw this in him, she said, “With us there be a custom throughout our country, but I know not an it be the usage of yours or not.” The Moorman replied, “And what may that be?” So she said to him, “At the end of supper each lover in turn taketh the cup of the beloved and drinketh it off;” and at once she crowned one with wine and bade the handmaid carry to him her cup wherein the drink was blended with the Bhang. Now she had taught the slave-girl what to do and all the handmaids and eunuchs in the pavilion longed for the Sorcerer’s slaughter and in that matter were one with the Princess. Accordingly the damsel handed him the cup and he, when he heard her words and saw her drinking from his cup and passing hers to him noted all that show of love, fancied himself Iskander, Lord of the Two Horns. Then said she to him, the while swaying gracefully to either side and putting her hand within his hand, “O my life, here is thy cup with me and my cup with thee, and on this wise 206 do lovers drink from each other’s cups.” Then she bussed the brim and drained it to the dregs and again she kissed its lip and offered it to him. Thereat he hew for joy and meaning to do the like, raised her cup to his mouth and drank off the whole contents, without considering whether there was therein aught harmful or not. And forthright he rolled upon his back in deathlike condition and the cup dropped from his grasp, whereupon the Lady Badr al-Budur and the slave-girls ran hurriedly and opened the pavilion door to their lord Alaeddin who, disguised as a Fellah, entered therein. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin entering his pavilion, went up to the apartment of his wife, whom he found still sitting at table; and facing her lay the Maghrabi as one slaughtered; so he at once drew near to her and kissed her and thanked her for this. Then rejoicing with joy exceeding he turned to her and said “Do thou with thy handmaids betake thyself to the inner-rooms and leave me alone for the present that I may take counsel touching mine affair.” The Princess hesitated not but went away at once, she and her women; then Alaeddin arose and after locking the door upon them, walked up to the Moorman and put forth his hand to his breast-pocket and thence drew the Lamp; after which he unsheathed his sword and slew the villain.207 Presently he rubbed the Lamp and the Marid-slave appeared and said, “Adsum, O my lord, what is it thou wantest?” “I desire of thee,” said Alaeddin, “that thou take up my pavilion from this country and transport it to the land of China and there set it down upon the site where it was whilome, fronting the palace of the Sultan.” The Marid replied, “Hearing and obeying, O my lord.’ The Alaeddin went and sat down with his wife and throwing his arms round her neck kissed her and she kissed him, and they sat in converse, what while the Jinni transported the pavilion and all therein to the place appointed. Presently Alaeddin bade the handmaids spread the table before him and he and the Lady Badr al-Budur took seat thereat and fell to eating and drinking, in all joy and gladness, till they had their sufficiency when, removing to the chamber of wine and cup-converse, they sat there and caroused in fair companionship and each kissed other with all love-liesse. The time had been long and longsome since they enjoyed aught of pleasure; so they ceased not doing thus until the wine-sun arose in their heads and sleep get hold of them, at which time they went to their bed in all ease and comfort.208 Early on the next morning Alaeddin woke and awoke his wife, and the slave-girls came in and donned her dress and prepared her and adorned her whilst her husband arrayed himself in his costliest raiment and the twain were ready to fly for joy at reunion after parting. Moreover the Princess was especially joyous and gladsome because on that day she expected to see her beloved father. Such was the case of Alaeddin and the Lady Badr al-Budur; but as regards the Sultan, after he drove away his son-in-law he never ceased to sorrow for the loss of his daughter; and every hour of every day he would sit and weep for her as women weep, because she was his only child and he had none other to take to heart. And as he shook off sleep, morning after morning, he would hasten to the window and throw it open and peer in the direction where formerly stood Alaeddin’s pavilion and pour forth tears until his eyes were dried up and their lids were ulcered. Now on that day he arose at dawn and, according to his custom, looked out when, lo and behold! he saw before him an edifice; so he rubbed his eyes and considered it curiously when he became certified that it was the pavilion of his son-in-law. So he called for a horse 209 without let or delay; and as soon as his beast was saddled, he mounted and made for the place; and Alaeddin, when he saw his father-in-law approaching, went down and met him half way: then, taking his hand, aided him to step upstairs to the apartment of his daughter. And the Princess, being as earnestly desirous to see her sire, descended and greeted him at the door of the staircase fronting the ground-floor hall. Thereupon the King folded her in his arms and kissed her, shedding tears of joy; and she did likewise till at last Alaeddin led them to the upper saloon where they took seats and the Sultan fell to asking her case and what had betided her. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, With love and good will."—-It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Lady Badr al-Budur began to inform the Sultan of all which had befallen her, saying, “O my father, I recovered not life save yesterday when I saw my husband, and he it was who freed me from the thraldom of that Maghrabi, that Magician, that Accursed, than whom I believe there be none viler on the face of earth; and, but for my beloved, I had never escaped him nor hadst thou seen me during the rest of my days. But mighty sadness and sorrow get about me, O my father, not only for losing thee but also for the loss of a husband, under whose kindness I shall be all the length of my life, seeing that he freed me from that fulsome sorcerer.” Then the Princess began repeating to her sire every thing that happened to her, and relating to him how the Moorman had tricked her in the guise of a lamp-seller who offered in exchange new for old; how she had given him the Lamp whose worth she knew not, and how she had bartered it away only to laugh at the lampman’s folly. “And next morning, O my father,” she continued, “we found ourselves and whatso the pavilion contained in Africa-land, till such time as my husband came to us and devised a device whereby we escaped: and, had it not been for Alaeddin’s hastening to our aid, the Accursed was determined to enjoy me perforce.” Then she told him of the Bhang-drops administered in wine to the African and concluded, “Then my husband returned to me and how I know not, but we were shifted from Africa land to this place.” Alaeddin in his turn recounted how, finding the wizard dead drunken, he had sent away his wife and her women from the polluted place into the inner apartments; how he had taken the Lamp from the Sorcerer’s breast-pocket whereto he was directed by his wife; how he had slaughtered the villain and, finally how, making use of the Lamp, he had summoned its Slave and ordered him to transport the pavilion back to its proper site, ending his tale with, “And, if thy Highness have any doubt anent my words, arise with me and look upon the accursed Magician.” The King did accordingly and, having considered the Moorman, bade the carcase be carried away forthright and burned and its ashes scattered in air. Then he took to embracing Alaeddin and kissing him said, “Pardon me, O my son, for that I was about to destroy thy life through the foul deeds of this damned enchanter, who cast thee into such pit of peril; and I may be excused, O my child, for what I did by thee, because I found myself forlorn of my daughter; my only one, who to me is dearer than my very kingdom. Thou knowest how the hearts of parents yearn unto their offspring, especially when like myself they have but one and none other to love.” And on this wise the Sultan took to excusing himself and kissing his son-in-law. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin said to the Sultan, “O King of the Time, thou didst naught to me contrary to Holy Law, and I also sinned not against thee; but all the trouble came from that Maghrabi, the impure, the Magician.” Thereupon the Sultan bade the city be decorated and they obeyed him and held high feast and festivities. He also commanded the crier to cry about the streets saying, “This day is a mighty great fête, wherein public rejoicings must be held throughout the realm, for a full month of thirty days, in honour of the Lady Badr al-Budur and her husband Alaeddin’s return to their home.” On this wise befel it with Alaeddin and the Maghrabi; but withal the King’s son-in-law escaped not wholly from the Accursed, albeit the body had been burnt and the ashes scattered in air. For the villain had a brother yet more villainous than himself, and a greater adept in necromancy, geomancy and astromancy; and, even as the old saw saith “A bean and ’twas split;”210 so each one dwelt in his own quarter of the globe that he might fill it with his sorcery, his fraud and his treason.211 Now, one day of the days it fortuned that the Moorman’s brother would learn how it fared with him, so he brought out his sandboard and dotted it and produced the figures which, when he had considered and carefully studied them, gave him to know that the man he sought was dead and housed in the tomb. So he grieved and was certified of his decease, but he dotted a second time seeking to learn the manner of the death and where it had taken place; so he found that the site was the China-land and that the mode was the foulest of slaughter; furthermore, that he who did him die was a young man Alaeddin hight. Seeing this he straightway arose and equipped himself for wayfare; then he set out and cut across the wilds and words and heights for the space of many a month until he reached China and the capital of the Sultan wherein was the slayer of his brother. He alighted at the so-called Strangers’ Khan and, hiring himself a cell, took rest therein for a while; then he fared forth and wandered about the highways that he might discern some path which would aid him unto the winning of his ill-minded wish, to wit, of wreaking upon Alaeddin blood-revenge for his brother.212 Presently he entered a coffee-house, a fine building which stood in the market-place and which collected a throng of folk to play, some at the mankalah,213 others at the backgammon214 and others at the chess and what not else. There he sat down and listened to those seated beside him and they chanced to be conversing about an ancient dame and a holy, by name Fatimah,215 who dwelt alway at her devotions in a hermitage without the town, and this she never entered save only two days each month. They mentioned also that she had performed many saintly miracles216 which, when the Maghrabi, the Necromancer, heard he said in himself, “Now have I found that which I sought: Inshallah — God willing — by means of this crone will I win to my wish."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Necromancer, went up to the folk who were talking of the miracles performed by the devout old woman and said to one of them, “O my uncle, I heard you all chatting about the prodigies of a certain saintess named Fatimah: who is she and where may be her abode? “Marvellous!”217 exclaimed the man: “How canst thou be in our city and yet never have heard about the miracles of the Lady Fatimah? Evidently, O thou poor fellow, thou art a foreigner, since the fastings of this devotee and her asceticism in worldly matters and the beauties of her piety never came to thine ears.” The Moorman rejoined, “ ’tis true, O my lord: yes, I am a stranger and came to this your city only yesternight; and I hope thou wilt inform me concerning the saintly miracles of this virtuous woman and where may be her wone, for that I have fallen into a calamity, and ’tis my wish to visit her and crave her prayers, so haply Allah (to whom be honour and glory!) will, through her blessings, deliver me from mine evil.” Hereat the man recounted to him the marvels of Fatimah the Devotee and her piety and the beauties of her worship; then, taking him by the hand went with him without the city and showed him the way to her abode, a cavern upon a hillock’s head. The Necromancer acknowledged his kindness in many words and, thanking him for his good offices, returned to his cell in the caravanserai. Now by the fiat of Fate on the very next day Fatimah came down to the city, and the Maghrabi, the Necromancer, happened to leave his hostelry a-morn, when he saw the folk swarming and crowding; wherefore he went up to discover what was to do and found the Devotee standing amiddlemost the throng, and all who suffered from pain or sickness flocked to her soliciting a blessing and praying for her prayers; and each and every she touched became whole of his illness.218 The Maroccan, the Necromancer, followed her about until she returned to her antre; then, awaiting till the evening evened, he arose and repaired to a vintner’s store where he drank a cup of wine. After this he fared forth the city and finding the Devotee’s cavern, entered it and saw her lying prostrate219 with her back upon a strip of matting. So he came for ward and mounted upon her belly; then he drew his dagger and shouted at her; and, when she awoke and opened her eyes, she espied a Moorish man with an unsheathed poniard sitting upon her middle as though about to kill her. She was troubled and sore terrified, but he said to her, “Hearken! an thou cry out or utter a word I will slay thee at this very moment: arise now and do all I bid thee.” Then he sware to her an oath that if she obeyed his orders, whatever they might be, he would not do her die. So saying, he rose up from off her and Fatimah also arose, when he said to her, “Give me thy gear and take thou my habit;” whereupon she gave him her clothing and head-fillets, her face-kerchief and her mantilla. Then Quoth he, “ ’tis also requisite that thou anoint me with somewhat shall make the colour of my face like unto thine.” Accordingly she went into the inner cavern and, bringing out a gallipot of ointment, spread somewhat thereof upon her palm and with it besmeared his face until its hue favoured her own; then she gave him her staff220 and, showing him how to walk and what to do when he entered the city, hung her rosary around his neck. Lastly she handed to him a mirror and said, “Now look! Thou differest from me in naught;” and he saw himself Fatimah’s counterpart as though she had never gone or come.221 But after obtaining his every object he falsed his oath and asked for a cord which she brought to him; then he seized her and strangled her in the cavern; and presently, when she was dead, haled the corpse outside and threw it into a pit hard by. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, after murthering Fatimah, threw her body into a pit and went back to sleep in her cavern; and, when broke the day, he rose and repairing to the town took his stand under the walls of Alaeddin’s pavilion. Hereupon flocked the folk about him, all being certified that he was Fatimah the Devotee and he fell to doing whatso she was wont to do: he laid hands on these in pain and recited for those a chapter of the Koran and made orisons for a third. Presently the thronging of the folk and the clamouring of the crowd were heard by the Lady Badr al-Budur, who said to her handmaidens, “Look what is to do and what be the cause of this turmoil!” Thereupon the Agha of the eunuchry fared forth to see what might be the matter and presently returning said, “O my lady, this clamour is caused by the Lady Fatimah, and if thou be pleased to command, I will bring her to thee; so shalt thou gain through her a blessing.” The Princess answered, “Go bring her, for since many a day I am always hearing of her miracles and her virtues, and I do long to see her and get a blessing by her intervention, for the folk recount her manifestations in many cases of difficulty.” The Agha went forth and brought in the Maroccan, the Necromancer, habited in Fatimah’s clothing; and, when the wizard stood before the Lady Badr al-Budur, he began at first sight to bless her with a string of prayers; nor did any one of those present doubt at all but that he was the Devotee herself. The Princess arose and salam’d to him then seating him beside her, said, “O my Lady Fatimah, ’tis my desire that thou abide with me alway, so might I be blessed through thee, and also learn of thee the paths222 of worship and piety and follow thine example making for salvation.” Now all this was a foul deceit of the accursed African and he designed furthermore to complete his guile, so he continued, “O my Lady, I am a poor woman and a religious that dwelleth in the desert; and the like of me deserveth not to abide in the palaces of the kings.” But the Princess replied, “Have no care whatever, O my Lady Fatimah; I will set apart for thee an apartment of my pavilion, that thou mayest worship therein and none shall ever come to trouble thee; also thou shalt avail to worship Allah in my place better than in thy cavern.” The Maroccan rejoined,” Hearkening and obedience, O my lady; I will not oppose thine order for that the commands of the children of the kings may not be gainsaid nor renounced. Only I hope of thee that my eating and drinking and sitting may be within my own chamber which shall be kept wholly private; nor do I require or desire the delicacies of diet, but do thou favour me by sending thy handmaid every day with a bit of bread and a sup of water;223 and, when I feel fain of food, let me eat by myself in my own room.” Now the Accursed hereby purposed to avert the danger of haply raising his face-kerchief at meal-times, when his intent might be baffled by his beard and mustachios discovering him to be a man. The Princess replied, “O my Lady Fatimah, be of good heart; naught shall happen save what thou wishest. But now arise and let me show thee the apartment in the palace which I would prepare for thy sojourn with us."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Lady Badr al-Budur arose and taking the Necromancer who had disguised himself as the Devotee, ushered him in to the place which she had kindly promised him for a home and said, “O my Lady Fatimah, here thou shalt dwell with every comfort about thee and in all privacy and repose; and the place shall be named after thy name;” whereupon the Maghrabi acknowledged her kindness and prayed for her. Then the Princess showed him the jalousies and the jewelled Kiosque with its four and twenty windows224 and said to him, “What thinkest thou, O my Lady Fatimah, of this marvellous pavilion?” The Moorman replied, “By Allah, O my daughter, ’tis indeed passing fine and wondrous exceedingly; nor do I deem that its fellow is to be found in the whole universe; but alas for the lack of one thing which would enhance its beauty and decoration!” The Princess asked her, “O my Lady Fatimah, what lacketh it and what be this thing would add to its adornment? Tell me thereof, inasmuch as I was wont to believe it wholly perfect.” The Maroccan answered, “O my lady, all it wanteth is that there be hanging from the middle of the dome the egg of a fowl called the Rukh;225 and, were this done, the pavilion would lack its peer all the world over.” The Princess asked, “What be this bird and where can we find her egg?” and the Maroccan answered, “O my lady, the Rukh is indeed a giant fowl which carrieth off camels and elephants in her pounces and flieth away with them, such is her stature and strength; also this fowl is mostly found in Mount Káf; and the architect who built this pavilion is able to bring thee one of her eggs.” They then left such talk as it was the hour for the noon day meal and, when the handmaid had spread the table, the Lady Badr al-Budur sent down to invite the Accursed African to eat with her. But he accepted not and for a reason he would on no wise consent; nay, he rose and retired to the room which the Princess had assigned to him and whither the slave-girls carried his dinner. Now when evening evened, Alaeddin returned from the chase and met his wife who salam’d to him and he clasped her to his bosom and kissed her. Presently, looking at her face he saw thereon a shade of sadness and he noted that contrary to her custom, she did not laugh; so he asked her, “What hath betided thee, O my dearling? tell me, hath aught happened to trouble thy thoughts!” “Nothing whatever,” answered she, “but, O my beloved, I fancied that our pavilion lacked naught at all; however, O eyes of me, O Alaeddin, were the dome of the upper story hung with an egg of the fowl called Rukh, there would be naught like it in the universe.” Her husband rejoined, “And for this trifle thou art saddened when ’tis the easiest of all matters to me! So cheer thyself; and, whatever thou wantest, ’tis enough thou inform me thereof, and I will bring it from the abysses of the earth in the quickest time and at the earliest hour."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that Alaeddin after refreshing the spirits of his Princess by promising her all she could desire, repaired straight way to his chamber and taking the Lamp226 rubbed it, when the Marid appeared without let or delay saying, “Ask whatso thou wantest.” Said the other, “I desire thee to fetch me an egg of the bird Rukh and do thou hang it to the dome-crown of this my pavilion.” But when the Marid heard these words, his face waxed fierce and he shouted with a mighty loud voice and a frightful, and cried, “O denier of kindly deeds, sufficeth it not for thee that I and all the Slaves of the Lamp are ever at thy service, but thou must also require me to bring thee our Liege Lady227 for thy pleasure, and hang her up at thy pavilion dome for the enjoyment of thee and thy wife! Now by Allah, ye deserve, thou and she, that I reduce you to ashes this very moment and scatter you upon the air; but, inasmuch as ye twain be ignorant of this matter, unknowing its inner from its outer significance, I will pardon you for indeed ye are but innocents. The offence cometh from that accursed Necromancer, brother to the Maghrabi, the Magician, who abideth here representing himself to be Fatimah, the Devotee, after assuming her dress and belongings and murthering her in the cavern: indeed he came hither seeking to slay thee by way of blood-revenge for his brother; and ’tis he who taught thy wife to require this matter of me.”228 So saying the Marid evanished. But when Alaeddin heard these words, his wits fled his head and his joints trembled at the Marid’s terrible shout; but he empowered his purpose and, rising forthright, issued from his chamber and went into his wife’s. There he affected an ache of head, for that he knew how famous was Fatimah for the art and mystery of healing all such pains; and, when the Lady Badr al-Budur saw him sitting hand to head and complaining of unease, she asked him the cause and he answered, “I know of none other save that my head acheth exceedingly.” Hereupon she straightway bade summon Fatimah that the Devotee might impose her hand upon his head;229 and Alaeddin asked her, “Who may this Fatimah be?” So she informed him that it was Fatimah the Devotee to whom she had given a home in the pavilion. Meanwhile the slave-girls had fared forth and summoned the Maghrabi, and when the Accursed made act of presence, Alaeddin rose up to him and, acting like one who knew naught of his purpose, salam’d to him as though he had been the real Fatimah and, kissing the hem of his sleeve, welcomed him and entreated him with honour and said, “O my Lady Fatimah, I hope thou wilt bless me with a boon, for well I wot thy practice in the healing of pains: I have gotten a mighty ache in my head.” The Moorman, the Accursed, could hardly believe that he heard such words, this being all that he desired. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will."— It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Necromancer, habited as Fatimah the Devotee, came up to Alaeddin that he might place hand upon his head and heal his ache; so he imposed one hand and, putting forth the other under his gown, drew a dagger wherewith to slay him. But Alaeddin watched him and, taking patience till he had wholly unsheathed the weapon, seized him with a forceful grip; and, wrenching the dagger from his grasp plunged it deep into his heart. When the Lady Badr al-Budur saw him do on this wise, she shrieked and cried out, “What hath this virtuous and holy woman done that thou hast charged thy neck with the heavy burthen of her blood shed wrongfully? Hast thou no fear of Allah that thou killest Fatimah, this saintly woman, whose miracles are far-famed?” “No,” replied Alaeddin “I have not killed Fatimah. I have slain only Fatimah’s slayer, he that is the brother of the Maghrabi, the Accursed, the Magician, who carried thee off by his black art and transported my pavilion to the Africa-land; and this damnable brother of his came to our city and wrought these wiles, murthering Fatimah and assuming her habit, only that he might avenge upon me his brother’s blood; and he also ’twas who taught thee to require of me a Rukh’s egg, that my death might result from such requirement. But, an thou doubt my speech, come forwards and consider the person I have slain.” Thereupon Alaeddin drew aside the Moorman’s face-kerchief and the Lady Badr al-Budur saw the semblance of a man with a full beard that well nigh covered his features. She at once knew the truth and said to her husband, “O my beloved, twice have I cast thee into death-risk!” but he rejoined, “No harm in that, O my lady, by the blessing of your loving eyes: I accept with all joy all things thou bringest me.” The Princess, hearing these words, hastened to fold him in her arms and kissed him saying, “O my dearling, all this is for my love to thee and I knew naught thereof; but indeed I do not deem lightly of thine affection.” So Alaeddin kissed her and strained her to his breast; and the love between them waxed but greater. At that moment the Sultan appeared and they told him all that had happened, showing him the corpse of the Maghrabi, the Necromancer, when the King commanded the body to be burned and the ashes scattered on air, even as had befallen the Wizard’s brother. And Alaeddin abode with his wife, the Lady Badr al-Budur, in all pleasure and joyance of life and thenceforward escaped every danger; and, after a while, when the Sultan deceased, his son-in-law was seated upon the throne of the Kingdom; and he commanded and dealt justice to the lieges so that all the folk loved him, and he lived with his wife in all solace and happiness until there came to him the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies.230 Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, how rare is thy tale and delectable!” and Quoth Shahrazad, “And what is this compared with that I could relate to you after the coming night, an this my lord the King deign leave me on life?” So Shahryar said to himself, “Indeed I will not slay her until she tell me the whole tale.”
Shahrazad began to relate the adventures of
66 Arab. “‘Abadan,” a term much used in this MS. and used correctly. It refers always and only to future time, past being denoted by “Kattu” from Katta = he cut (in breadth, as opposed to Kadda=he cut lengthwise). See De Sacy, Chrestom. ii. 443.
67 In the text “Ibn mín,” a vulgarism for “man.” Galland adds that the tailor’s name was Mustapha —i y avait un tailleur nommé Mustafa.
68 In classical Arabic the word is “Maghribi,” the local form of the root Gharaba= he went far away (the sun), set, etc., whence “Maghribi”=a dweller in the Sunset-land. The vulgar, however, prefer “Maghrab” and “Maghrabi,” of which foreigners made “Mogrebin.” For other information see vols. vi. 220; ix. 50. The “Moormen” are famed as magicians; so we find a Maghrabi Sahhár=wizard, who by the by takes part in a transformation scene like that of the Second Kalandar (vol. i. p. 134, The Nights), in p. 10 of Spitta Bey’s “Contes Arabes Modernes,” etc. I may note that “Sihr,” according to Jauhari and Firozábádi=anything one can hold by a thin or subtle place, i.e., easy to handle. Hence it was applied to all sciences, “Sahhár” being=to ‘Alim (or sage). and the older Arabs called poetry “Sihar al-halál”— lawful magic.
69 i.e. blood is thicker than water, as the Highlanders say.
70 A popular saying amongst Moslems which has repeatedly occurred in The Nights. The son is the “lamp of a dark house.” Vol. ii 280.
71 Out of respect to his brother, who was probably the senior: the H. V. expressly says so.
72 Al-Marhúm = my late brother. See vol. ii. 129, 196.
73 This must refer to Cairo not to Al-Medinah whose title is “Al-Munawwarah” = the Illumined.
74 A picturesque term for birth-place.
75 In text “Yá Rájul” (for Rajul) = O man, an Egypto-Syrian form, broad as any Doric.
76 Arab. Shúf-hu, the colloquial form of Shuf-hu
77 For the same sentiment see “Julnár” the “Sea born,” Nights dccxliii.-xliv.
78 “I will hire thee a shop in the Chauk”— Carfax or market-street says the H. V.
79 The MS. writes the word Khwájá (for Khwájah see vol. vi. 46). Here we are at once interested in the scapegrace who looked Excelsior. In fact the tale begins with a strong inducement to boyish vagabondage and scampish indolence; but the Moslem would see in it the hand of Destiny bringing good out of evil. Amongst other meanings of “Khwájah “ it is a honorific title given by Khorásánis to their notables. In Arab. the similarity of the word to “Khuwáj”=hunger, has given rise to a host of conceits, more or less frigid (Ibn Khallikán, iii. 45).
80 Arab. “Wáhid min al-Tujjár,” the very vulgar style.
81 i.e., the Saturday (see vol. ii. 305) established as a God’s rest by the so-called “Mosaic” commandment No. iv. How it gradually passed out of observance, after so many centuries of most stringent application, I cannot discover: certainly the text in Cor. ii. 16-17 is insufficient to abolish or supersede an order given with such singular majesty and impressiveness by God and so strictly obeyed by man. The popular idea is that the Jewish Sabbath was done away with in Christ, and that sundry of the 1604 councils, e.g., Laodicea, anathematized those who kept it holy after such fashion. With the day the aim and object changed; and the early Fathers made it the “Feast of the Resurrection” which could not be kept too joyously. The “Sabbatismus” of our Sabbatarians, who return to the Israelitic practice and yet honour the wrong day, is heretical and vastly illogical; and the Sunday is better kept in France, Italy and other “Catholic” countries than in England and Scotland.
82 For “Mushayyadát” see vol. viii. 23.
83 All these words sárú, dakhalú, jalasú, &c. are in the plur. for the dual — popular and vulgar speech. It is so throughout the MS.
84 The Persians apply the Arab word “Sahrá"=desert, to the waste grounds about a town.
85 Arab. Kashákísh from the quadril, kashkasha = he gathered fuel.
86 In text “Shayy bi-lásh” which would mean lit. a thing gratis or in vain.
87 In the text “Sabba raml” = cast in sand. It may be a clerical error for “Zaraba Raml” = he struck sand, i.e., made geomantic figures.
88 Arab. Mauza’= a place, an apartment, a saloon.
89 Galland makes each contain quatre vases de bronze, grands comme des cuves.
90 The Arab. is “Líwán,” for which see vols. iv. 71 and vii. 347. Galland translates it by a “terrace” and “niche.”
91 The idea is borrowed from the lume eterno of the Rosicrucians. It is still prevalent throughout Syria where the little sepulchral lamps buried by the Hebrews, Greeks and Romans are so called. Many tales are told of their being found burning after the lapse of centuries; but the traveller will never see the marvel.
92 The first notice of the signet-ring and its adventures is by Herodotus in the Legend of the Samian Polycrates; and here it may be observed that the accident is probably founded on fact; every fisherman knows that fish will seize and swallow spoon-bait and other objects that glitter. The text is the Talmudic version of Solomon’s seal-ring. The king of the demons after becoming a “Bottle-imp,” prayed to be set free upon condition of teaching a priceless secret, and after cajoling the Wise One flung his signet into the sea and cast the owner into a land four hundred miles distant. Here David’s son begged his bread till he was made head cook to the King of Ammon at Mash Kernín. After a while, he eloped with Na’úzah, the daughter of his master, and presently when broiling a fish found therein his missing property. In the Moslem version, Solomon had taken prisoner Amínah, the daughter of a pagan prince, and had homed her in his Harem, where she taught him idolatry. One day before going to the Hammam he entrusted to her his signet- ring presented to him by the four angelic Guardians of sky, air, water and earth when the mighty Jinni Al-Sakhr (see vol. i. 41; v. 36), who was hovering about unseen, snatching away the ring, assumed the king’s shape, whereby Solomon’s form became so changed that his courtiers drove him from his own doors. Thereupon Al-Sakhr, taking seat upon the throne, began to work all manner of iniquity, till one of the Wazirs, suspecting the transformation, read aloud from a scroll of the law: this caused the demon to fly shrieking and to drop the signet into the sea. Presently Solomon, who had taken service with a fisherman, and received for wages two fishes a day, found his ring and made Al-Sakhr a “Bottle-imp.” The legend of St. Kentigern or Mungo of Glasgow, who recovered the Queen’s ring from the stomach of a salmon, is a palpable imitation of the Biblical incident which paid tribute to Cæsar.
93 The Magician evidently had mistaken the powers of the Ring. This is against all probability and possibility, but on such abnormal traits are tales and novels founded.
94 These are the Gardens of the Hesperides and of King Isope (Tale of Beryn, Supplem. Canterbury Tales, Chaucer Soc. p. 84):—
In mydward of this gardyn stant a feiré tre
Of alle manner levis that under sky be
I-forgit and i- fourmyd, eche in his degre
Of sylver, and of golde fyne, that lusty been to see.
So in the Kathá (S. S.) there are trees with trunks of gold, branches of pearls, and buds and flowers of clear white pearls.
95 The text causes some confusion by applying “Sullam” to staircase and ladder, hence probably the latter is not mentioned by Galland and Co., who speak only of an escalier de cinquante marches. “Sullam” (plur. “Salálim”) in modern Egyptian is popularly used for a flight of steps: see Spitta-Bey’s “Contes Arabes Modernes,” p. 70. The H. V. places under the slab a hollow space measuring four paces (kadam = 2.5 feet), and at one corner a wicket with a ladder. This leads to a vault of three rooms, one with the jars of gold; the second not to be swept by the skirts, and the third opening upon the garden of gems. “There thou shalt see a path, whereby do thou fare straight forwards to a lofty palace with a flight of fifty steps leading to a flat terrace: and here shalt thou find a niche wherein a lamp burneth.”
96 In the H.V. he had thrust the lamp into the bosom of his dress, which, together with his sleeves, he had filled full of fruit, and had wound his girdle tightly around him lest any fall out.
97 Africa (Arab. Afrikíyah) here is used in its old and classical sense for the limited tract about Carthage (Tunis) net, Africa Propria. But the scribe imagines it to be the P. N. of a city: so in Júdar (vol. vi. 222) we find Fás and Miknás (Fez and Mequinez) converted into one settlement. The Maghribi, Mauritanian or Maroccan is famed for sorcery throughout the Moslem world: see vol. vi. 220. The Moslem “Kingdom of Afrikiyah” was composed of four provinces, Tunis, Tripoli, Constantina, and Bugia: and a considerable part of it was held by the Berber tribe of Sanhája or Sinhága, also called the Zenag whence our modern “Senegal.” Another noted tribe which held Bajaiyah (Bugia) in Afrikiyah proper was the “Zawáwah,” the European “Zouaves,” (Ibn Khall. iv. 84).
98 Galland omits the name, which is outlandish enough.
99 Meaning that he had incurred no blood-guiltiness, as he had not killed the lad and only left him to die.
100 The H. V. explains away the improbability of the Magician forgetting his gift. “In this sore disquietude he bethought him not of the ring which, by the decree of Allah, was the means of Alaeddin’s escape; and indeed not only he but oft times those who practice the Black Art are baulked of their designs by Divine Providence.”
101 See vol. vii. 60. The word is mostly derived from “ ‘afar” = dust, and denotes, according to some, a man coloured like the ground or one who “dusts” all his rivals. “ ‘Ifr” (fem. ‘Ifrah) is a wicked and dangerous man. Al-Jannabi, I may here notice, is the chief authority for Afrikus son of Abraha and xviiith Tobba being the eponymus of “Africa.”
102 Arab. “Ghayr an” = otherwise that, except that, a favourite form in this MS. The first word is the Syriac “Gheir” = for, a conjunction which is most unneccessarily derived by some from the Gr. {Greek text}.
103 Galland and the H.V. make the mother deliver a little hygienic lecture about not feeding too fast after famine: exactly what an Eastern parent would not dream of doing.
104 The lad now turns the tables upon his mother and becomes her master, having “a crow to pick” with her.
105 Arab. “Munáfik” for whose true sense, “an infidel who pretendeth to believe in Al-Islam,” see vol. vi. p. 207. Here the epithet comes last being the climax of abuse, because the lowest of the seven hells (vol. viii. 111) was created for “hypocrites,” i.e., those who feign to be Moslems when they are Miscreants.
106 Here a little abbreviation has been found necessary to avoid the whole of a twice-told tale; but nothing material has been omitted.
107 Arab. “Taffaytu-hu.” This is the correct term = to extinguish. They relate of the great scholar Firozábádí, author of the “Kámús” (ob. A. H. 817 = A. D. 1414), that he married a Badawi wife in order to study the purest Arabic and once when going to bed said to her, “Uktuli’s -siráj,” the Persian “Chirágh-rá bi-kush” = Kill the lamp. “What,” she cried, “Thou an ‘Álim and talk of killing the lamp instead of putting it out!”
108 In the H. V. the mother takes the “fruits” and places them upon the ground, “but when darkness set in, a light shone from them like the rays of a lamp or the sheen of the sun.”
109 For these fabled Giant rulers of Syria, Og King of Bashan, etc., see vols. vii. 84; ix. 109, 323. D’Herbelot (s. v. Giabbar= Giant) connects “Jabábirah” with the Heb. Ghibbor Ghibborim and the Pers. Dív, Diván: of these were ‘Ád and Shaddád, Kings of Syria: the Falast“in (Philistines) ‘Auj, Amálik and Banú Shayth or Seth’s descendants, the sons of God (Benu-Elohim) of the Book of Genesis (vi. 2) who inhabited Mount Hermon and lived in purity and chastity.
110 The H. V. explains that the Jinni had appeared to the mother in hideous aspect, with noise and clamour, because she had scoured the Lamp roughly; but was more gentle with Alaeddin because he had rubbed it lightly. This is from Galland.
111 Arab. Musawwadatayn = lit. two black things, rough copies, etc.
112 Arab. Banú Adam, as opposed to Banú Elohim (Sons of the Gods), B. al-Jánn etc The Banú al-Asfar = sons of the yellow, are Esau’s posterity in Edom, also a term applied by Arab historians to the Greeks and Romans whom Jewish fable derived from Idumæa: in my vol. ii. 220, they are the people of the yellow or tawny faces. For the legend see Ibn Khall. iii. 8, where the translator suggests that the by-name may be = the “sees of the Emperor” Flavius, confounded with “flavus,” a title left by Vespasian to his successors The Banú al Khashkhash = sons of the (black) poppy are the Ethiopians.
113 Arab, Há! há! so Háka (fem. Haki) = Here for thee!
114 So in Medieval Europe Papal bulls and Kings’ letters were placed for respect on the head. See Duffield’s “Don Quixote,” Part i. xxxi.
115 Galland makes the Juif only rusé et adroit.
116 Arab. “Ghashím” = a “Johnny Raw” from the root “Ghashm” = iniquity: Builders apply the word to an unhewn stone; addressed to a person it is considered slighting, if not insulting. See vol. ii. 330.
117 The carat (Kírát) being most often, but not always, one twenty-fourth of the diner. See vols. iii. 239; vii. 289.
118 Kanání, plur. of Kinnínah.
119 Here and below silver is specified, whenas the platters in Night dxxxv. were of gold This is one of the many changes’ contradictions and confusions which are inherent in Arab stones. See Spitta-Bey’s “Contes Arabes,” Preface.
120 i.e., the Slave of the Lamp.
121 This may be true, but my experience has taught me to prefer dealing with a Jew than with a Christian. The former will “jew” me perhaps, but his commercial cleverness will induce him to allow me some gain in order that I may not be quite disheartened: the latter will strip me of my skin and will grumble because he cannot gain more.
122 Arab. “Hálah mutawassitah,” a phrase which has a European Touch.
123 In the text “Jauharjíyyah,” common enough in Egypt and Syria, an Arab. plur. of an Arabised Turkish sing. — ji for — chí = (crafts-) man.
124 We may suppose some years may have passed in this process and that Alaeddin from a lad of fifteen had reached the age of manhood. The H. V. declares that for many a twelve month the mother and son lived by cotton spinning and the sale of the plate
125 i.e. Full moon of full moons: See vol. iii. 228. It is pronounced “Badroo’l- Budoor,” hence Galland’s “ Badr-oul-boudour. ”
126 In the H. V. Alaeddin “bethought him of a room adjacent to the Baths where he might sit and see the Princess through the door-chinks, when she raised her veil before the handmaids and eunuchs.”
127 This is the common conceit of the brow being white as day and the hair black as night.
128 Such a statement may read absurdly to the West but it is true in the East. “Selim” had seen no woman’s face unveiled, save that of his sable mother Rosebud in Morier’s Tale of Yeldoz, the wicked woman (“The Mirza,” vol. iii. 135). The H. V. adds that Alaeddin’s mother was old and verily had little beauty even in her youth. So at the sight of the Princess he learnt that Allah had created women exquisite in loveliness and heart-ensnaring; and at first glance the shaft of love pierced his heart and he fell to the ground afaint He loved her with a thousand lives and, when his mother questioned him, “his lips formed no friendship with his speech.”
129 “There is not a present (Teshurah) to bring to the Man of God” (1 Sam. ix. 7), and Menachem explains Teshurah as a gift offered with the object of being admitted to the presence. See also the offering of oil to the King in Isaiah lvii. 9. Even in Maundriell’s Day Travels (p. 26) it was counted uncivil to visit a dignitary without an offering in hand.
130 As we shall see further on, the magical effect of the Ring and the Lamp extend far and wide over the physique and morale of the owner: they turn a “raw laddie” into a finished courtier, warrior, statesman, etc.
131 In Eastern states the mere suspicion of having such an article would expose the suspected at least to torture. Their practical system of treating “treasure trove,” as I saw when serving with my regiment in Gujarát (Guzerat), is at once to imprison and “molest” the finder, in order to make sure that he has not hidden any part of his find.
132 Here the MS. text is defective, the allusion is, I suppose, to the Slave of the Lamp.
133 In the H. V. the King retired into his private apartment; and, dismissing all save the Grand Wazir, “took cognisance of special matters” before withdrawing to the Harem.
134 The levée, Divan or Darbár being also a lit de justice and a Court of Cassation: See vol. i. 29.
135 All this is expressed by the Arabic in one word “Tamanná.” Galland adds pour marquer qu’il etait prêt á perdre s’il y manquait; and thus he conveys a wrong idea.
136 This would be still the popular address, nor is it considered rude or slighting. In John (ii. 4) “Atto,” the Heb. Eshah, is similarly used, not complimentarily, but in popular speech.
137 This sounds ridiculous enough in English, but not in German, e.g. Deine Königliche Hoheit is the formula de rigueur when an Austrian officer, who always addresses brother-soldiers in the familiar second person, is speaking to a camarade who is also a royalty.
1138 “Suráyyát (lit. = the Pleiades) and “Sham’ádín” a would-be Arabic plur. of the Persian “Sham’adán”=candlestick, chandelier, for which more correctly Sham’adánát is used.
139 i.e., betrothed to her —j’agrée la proposition, says Galland.
140 Here meaning Eunuch-officers and officials. In the cdlxxvith Night of this volume the word is incorrectly written Ághát in the singular.
141 In the H. V. Alaeddin on hearing this became as if a thunderbolt had stricken him, and losing consciousness, swooned away.
142 These calls for food at critical times, and oft-recurring allusions to eating are not yet wholly obsolete amongst the civilised of the xixth century. The ingenious M. Jules Verne often enlivens a tedious scene by Dejeunons! And French travellers, like English, are not unready to talk of food and drink, knowing that the subject is never displeasing to their readers.
143 The H. V. gives a sketch of the wedding. “And when the ceremonies ended at the palace with pomp and parade and pageant, and the night was far spent, the eunuchs led the Wazir’s son into the bridal chamber. He was the first to seek his couch; then the Queen his mother-in-law, came into him leading the bride, and followed by her suite. She did with her virgin daughter as parents are wont to do, removed her wedding-raiment, and donning a night-dress, placed her in her bridegroom’s arms. Then, wishing her all joy, she with her ladies went away and shut the door. At that instant came the Jinni,” etc.
144 The happy idea of the wedding night in the water-closet is repeated from the tale of Nur-al-Dín Ali Hasan (vol. i. 221), and the mishap of the Hunchback bridegroom.
145 For the old knightly practice of sleeping with a drawn sword separating man and maid see vol. vii. 353 and Mr. Clouston’s “Popular Tales and Fictions,” vol. i. 316. In Poland the intermediary who married by procuration slept alongside the bride in all his armour. The H. V. explains, “He (Alaeddin) also lay a naked sword between him and the Princess so she might perceive that he was ready to die by that blade should he attempt to do aught of villainy by the bride.”
146 Galland says: Ils ne s’aperçurent que de l’ébranlement du lit et que de leur transport d’un lieu á l’autre: c’était bien assez pour leur donner une frayeur qu’il est aisé d’imaginer.
147 Galland very unnecessarily makes the Wazir’s son pass into the wardrobe (garderobe) to dress himself.
148 Professional singing and dancing girls: Properly the word is the fem. Of ‘Álim = a learned man; but it has been anglicised by Byron’s
“The long chibouque’s dissolving cloud supply
Where dance the Almahs to wild minstrelsy."—(The Corsair, ii. 2.)
They go about the streets with unveiled faces and are seldom admitted into respectable Harems, although on festal occasions they perform in the court or in front of the house, but even this is objected to by the Mrs. Grundy of Egypt. Lane (M.E. chap. xviii.) derives with Saint Jerome the word from the Heb. or Phoenician Almah = a virgin, a girl, a singing- girl; and thus explains “Alámoth” in Psalms xlvi. and I Chron. xv. 20. Parkhurst (s.v. ‘Alamah = an undeflowered virgin) renders Job xxxix. 30, “the way of a man with a maid” (bi-álmah). The way of a man in his virgin state, shunning youthful lust and keeping himself “pure and unspotted.”
149 The text reads “Rafa’ “ (he raised) “al-Bashkhánah” which in Suppl. Nights (ii. 119) is a hanging, a curtain. Apparently it is a corruption of the Pers. “Paskhkhánah,” a mosquito-curtain.
150 The father suspected that she had not gone to bed a clean maid.
151 Arab. Aysh = Ayyu Shayyin and Laysh = li ayyi Shayyin. This vulgarism, or rather popular corruption, is of olden date and was used by such a purist as Al-Mutanabbi in such a phrase as “Aysh Khabara-k?” = how art thou? See Ibn Khallikan, iii. 79.
152 In the H. V. the Minister sends the Chob-dár= = rod-bearer, mace-bearer, usher, etc.
153 In the text Sáhal for Sahal, again the broad “Doric” of Syria.
154 Arab. Dahab ramli = gold dust washed out of the sand, placer-gold. I must excuse myself for using this Americanism, properly a diluvium or deposit of sand, and improperly (Bartlett) a find of drift gold. The word, like many mining terms in the Far West, is borrowed from the Spaniards; it is not therefore one of the many American vulgarisms which threaten hopelessly to defile the pure well of English speech.
155 Abra. “Ratl,” by Europeans usually pronounced “Rotl” (Rotolo).
156 In the H. V. she returns from the bazar; and, “seeing the house filled with so many persons in goodliest attire, marvelled greatly. Then setting down the meat lately bought she would have taken off her veil, but Alaeddin prevented her and said,” etc.
157 The word is popularly derived from Serai in Persian = a palace; but it comes from the Span. and Port. Cerrar = to shut up, and should be written with the reduplicated liquid.
158 In the H. V. the dresses and ornaments of the slaves were priced at ten millions (Karúr a crore) of gold coins. I have noticed that Messer Marco “Milione” did not learn his high numerals in Arabia, but that India might easily have taught them to him.
159 Arab. “Ráih yasír,” peasant’s language.
160 Arab. Ká‘ah, the apodyterium or undressing room upon which the vestibule of the Hammam opens. See the plan in Lane’s M. E. chaps. xvi. The Kár’ah is now usually called “Maslakh” = stripping-room.
161 Arab. “Hammam-hu” = went through all the operations of the Hammam, scraping, kneading, soaping, wiping and so forth.
162 For this aphrodisiac see vol. vi. 60. The subject of aphrodisiacs in the East would fill a small library: almost every medical treatise ends in a long disquisition upon fortifiers, provocatives’ etc. We may briefly divide them into three great classes. The first is the medicinal, which may be either external or internal. The second is the mechanical, such as scarification’ flagellation, and the application of insects as practiced by certain savage races. There is a venerable Joe Miller of an old Brahmin whose young wife always insisted, each time before he possessed her, upon his being stung by a bee in certain parts. The third is magical superstitious and so forth
163 This may sound exaggerated to English ears, but a petty Indian Prince, such as the Gáikwár, or Rajah of Baroda, would be preceded in state processions by several led horses all whose housings and saddles were gold studded with diamonds. The sight made one’s mouth water.
164 i.e. the ‘Arab al-‘Arbá; for which see vols. i. 112; v. 101.
165 Arab. “Al-Kandíl al-‘ajíb:” here its magical virtues are specified and remove many apparent improbabilities from the tale.
166 This was the highest of honours. At Abyssinian Harar even the Grandees were compelled to dismount at the door of the royal “compound.” See my “First Footsteps in East Africa,” p. 296.
167 “The right hand” seems to me a European touch in Galland’s translation, leur chef mit Aladdin a sa droite. Amongst Moslems the great man sits in the sinistral corner of the Divan as seen from the door, so the place of honour is to his left.
168 Arab. “Músiká,” classically “Musikí” = {Greek text}: the Pers. form is Músikár; and the Arab. equivalent is Al-Lahn. In the H. V. the King made a signal and straightway drums (dhol) and trumpets (trafír) and all manner wedding instruments struck up on every side.
169 Arab. Marmar Sumáki=porphyry of which ancient Egypt supplied the finest specimens. I found a vein of it in the Anti-Libanus. Strange to say, the quarries which produced the far-famed giallo antico, verd’ antico (serpentine limestone) and rosso antico (mostly a porphyry) worked by the old Nilotes, are now unknown to us.
170 i.e. velvets with gold embroidery: see vol. viii. 201.
171 The Arabic says, “There was a kiosque with four-and-twenty alcoves (Líwán, for which see vols. iv. 71, vi. 347) all builded of emerald, etc., and one remained with the kiosque (kushk) unfinished.” I adopt Galland’s reading salon á vingt-quatre croisées which are mentioned in the Arab. text towards the end of the tale, and thus avoid the confusion between kiosque and window. In the H. V. there is a domed belvedere (bárah-dari-i- gumbaz-dár), four-sided, with six doors on each front (i. e. twenty-four), and all studded with diamonds, etc.
172 In Persia this is called “Pá-andáz,” and must be prepared for the Shah when he deigns to visit a subject. It is always of costly stuffs, and becomes the perquisite of the royal attendants.
173 Here the European hand again appears to me: the Sultan as a good Moslem should have made the Wuzú-ablution and prayed the dawn-prayers before doing anything worldly.
174 Arab. Fí ghuzúni zálika,” a peculiar phrase, Ghazn=a crease, a wrinkle.
175 In the H. V. the King “marvelled to see Alaeddin’s mother without her veil and magnificently adorned with costly jewels and said in his mind, ‘Methought she was a grey-haired crone, but I find her still in the prime of life and comely to look upon, somewhat after the fashion of Badr al-Budúr.’ ” This also was one of the miracles of the Lamp.
176 For this word see vols. i. 46, vii. 326. A Joe Miller is told in Western India of an old General Officer boasting his knowledge of Hindostani. “How do you say, Tell a plain story, General?” asked one of the hearers, and the answer was, “Maydán kí bát bolo!” = “speak a word about the plain” (or level space).
177 The prehistoric Arabs: see supra p. 98.
178 Popularly, Jeríd, the palm-frond used as javelin: see vol. vi. 263.
179 In order to keep off the evil eye, one of the functions of iron and steel: see vol. ii. 316.
180 The H. V. adds, “Little did the Princess know that the singers were fairies whom the Slave of the Lamp had brought together.”
181 Alexander the Great: see v. 252, x. 57. The H. V. adds, “Then only one man and one woman danced together, one with other, till midnight, when Alaeddin and the Princess stood up, for it was the wont of China in those days that bride and bridegroom perform together in presence of the wedding company.”
182 The exceptional reserve of this and other descriptions makes M. H. Zotenberg suspect that the tale was written for one of the Mameluke Princesses: I own to its modesty but I doubt that such virtue would have recommended it to the dames in question. The H. V. adds a few details:—“Then, when the bride and bridegroom had glanced and gazed each at other’s face, the Princess rejoiced with excessive joy to behold his comeliness, and he exclaimed, in the courtesy of his gladness, ‘O happy me, whom thou deignest, O Queen of the Fair, to honour despite mine unworth, seeing that in thee all charms and graces are perfected.’ ”
183 The term has not escaped ridicule amongst Moslems. A common fellow having stood in his way the famous wit Abú al-‘Ayná asked “What is that?” “A man of the Sons of Adam” was the reply. “Welcome, welcome,” cried the other, “Allah grant thee length of days. I deemed that all his sons were dead.” See Ibn Khallikan iii. 57.
184 This address to an inanimate object (here a window) is highly idiomatic and must be cultivated by the practical Arabist. In the H. V. the unfinished part is the four-and-twentieth door of the fictitious (ja’alí) palace.
185 This is true Orientalism, a personification or incarnation which Galland did not think proper to translate.
186 Arab. “La’ab al-Andáb;” the latter word is from “Nadb” = brandishing or throwing the javelin.
187 The “mothers” are the prime figures, the daughters being the secondary. For the “ ‘Ilm al-Ram!” = (Science of the sand) our geomancy, see vol. iii. 269, and D’Herbelot’s sub. v. Raml or Reml.
188 This is from Galland, whose certaine boisson chaude evidently means tea. It is preserved in the H.V.
189 i.e. his astrolabe, his “Zíj” or table of the stars, his almanack, etc. For a highly fanciful derivation of the “Arstable” see Ibn Khallikan (iii. 580). He makes it signify “balance or lines (Pers. ‘Astur’) of the sun,” which is called “Láb” as in the case of wicked Queen Láb (The Nights, vol. vii. 296). According to him the Astrolabe was suggested to Ptolemy by an armillary sphere which had accidentally been flattened by the hoof of his beast: this is beginning late in the day, the instrument was known to the ancient Assyrians. Chardin (Voyages ii. 149) carefully describes the Persian variety of —
“The cunning man highs Sidrophil
{as Will. Lilly was called). Amongst other things he wore at his girdle an astrolabe not bigger than the hollow of a man’s hand, often two to three inches in diameter and looking at a distance like a medal.” These men practiced both natural astrology = astronomy, as well as judicial astrology which foretells events and of which Kepler said that “she, albeit a fool, was the daughter of a wise mother, to whose support and life the silly maid was indispensable.” Isidore of Seville (A. D. 600-636) was the first to distinguish between the two branches, and they flourished side by side till Newton’s day. Hence the many astrological terms in our tongue, e.g. consider, contemplate, disaster, jovial, mercurial, saturnine, etc.
190 In the H. V. “New brass lamps for old ones! who will exchange ?” So in the story of the Fisherman’s son, a Jew who had been tricked of a cock, offers to give new rings for old rings. See Jonathan Scott’s excerpts from the Wortley-Montague MSS. vol. vi. pp. 210 12 This is one of the tales which I have translated for vol. iv.
191 The H. V. adds that Alaeddin loved to ride out a-hunting and had left the city for eight days whereof three had passed by.
192 Galland makes her say, Hé bien folle, veux-tu me dire pourqoui tu ris? The H. V. renders “Cease, giddy head, why laughest thou?” and the vulgate “Well, giggler,” said the Princess, etc.
193 Nothing can be more improbable than this detail, but upon such abnormal situations almost all stones, even in our most modern “Society-novels,” depend and the cause is clear — without them there would be no story. And the modern will, perhaps, suggest that “the truth was withheld for a higher purpose, for the working out of certain ends.” In the H. V Alaeddin, when about to go a-hunting, always placed the Lamp high up on the cornice with all care lest any touch it.
194 The H. V. adds, “The Magician, when he saw the Lamp, at once knew that it must be the one he sought; for he knew that all things, great and small, appertaining to the palace
195 In truly Oriental countries the Wazir is expected to know everything, and if he fail in this easy duty he may find himself in sore trouble.
196 i.e. must he obeyed.
197 We see that “China” was in those days the normal Oriental “despotism tempered by assassination.”
198 In the H. V. Alaeddin promises, “if I fail to find and fetch the Princess, I will myself cut off my head and cast it before the throne.” Hindus are adepts in suicide and this self-decapitation, which sounds absurd further West, is quite possible to them.
199 In Galland Alaeddin unconsciously rubbed the ring against un petit roc, to which he clung in order to prevent falling into the stream. In the H. V. “The bank was high and difficult of descent and the youth would have rolled down headlong had he not struck upon a rock two paces from the bottom and remained hanging over the water. This mishap was of the happiest for during his fall he struck the stone and rubbed his ring against it,” etc.
200 In the H. V. he said, “First save me that I fall not into the stream and then tell me where is the pavilion thou builtest for her and who hath removed it.”
201 Alluding to the preparatory washing, a mere matter of cleanliness which precedes the formal Wuzú-ablution.
202 In the H. V. the Princess ends with, “I had made this resolve that should he approach me with the design to win his wish perforce, I would destroy my life. By day and by night I abode in fear of him; but now at the sight of thee my heart is heartened.”
203 The Fellah had a natural fear of being seen in fine gear, which all would have supposed to be stolen goods; and Alaeddin was justified in taking it perforce, because necessitas non habet legem. See a similar exchange of dress in Spitta-Bey’s “Contes Arabes Modernes,” p. 91. In Galland the peasant when pressed consents; and in the H. V. Alaeddin persuades him by a gift of money.
204 i.e. which would take effect in the shortest time.
205 Her modesty was startled by the idea of sitting: at meat with a strange man and allowing him to make love to her.
206 In the text Kidí, pop. for Ka-zálika. In the H. V. the Magician replies to the honeyed speech of the Princess, “O my lady, we in Africa have not so gracious customs as the men of China. This day I have learned of thee a new courtesy which I shall ever keep in mind.”
207 Galland makes the Princess poison the Maghrabi, which is not gallant. The H. V. follows suit and describes the powder as a mortal poison.
208 Contrast this modesty with the usual scene of reunion after severance, as in the case of Kamar al-Zamán and immodest Queen Budúr, vol. iii. pp. 302-304.
209 His dignity forbade him to walk even the length of a carpet: see vol. vii. for this habit of the Mameluke Beys. When Harun al-Rashid made his famous pilgrimage afoot from Baghdad to Meccah (and he was the last of the Caliphs who performed this rite), the whole way was spread with a “Pá-andáz” of carpets and costly cloths.
210 The proverb suggests our “par nobile fratrum,” a pair resembling each other as two halves of a split bean.
211 In the H. V. “If the elder Magician was in the East, the other was in the West; but once a year, by their skill in geomancy, they had tidings of each other.”
212 The act was religiously laudable, but to the Eastern, as to the South European mind, fair play is not a jewel; moreover the story-teller may insinuate that vengeance would be taken only by foul and unlawful means — the Black Art, perjury, murder and so forth
213 For this game, a prime favourite in Egypt, see vol. vi. 145, De Sacy (Chrestomathie i. 477) and his authorities Hyde, Syntagma Dissert. ii. 374, P. Labat, “Memoires du Chev d’Arvieux,” iii. 321; Thevenot, “Voyage du Levant,” p. 107, and Niebuhr, “Voyages,” i. 139, Plate 25, fig. H.
214 Evidently="(jeu de) dames” (supposed to have been invented in Paris during the days of the Regency: see Littré); and, although in certain Eastern places now popular, a term of European origin. It is not in Galland. According to Ibn Khallikan (iii. 69) “Nard” = tables, arose with King Ardashír son of Babuk, and was therefore called Nardashír (Nard Ardashír? ). He designed it as an image of the world and its people, so the board had twelve squares to represent the months; the thirty pieces or men represented the days, and the dice were the emblems of Fate and Lot.
215 i.e. a weaner, a name of good omen for a girl-child: see vol. vi. 145. The Hindi translator, Totárám Shayyán, calls her Hamídah = the Praiseworthy.
216 Arab. Kirámát: see vols. ii. 237; iv. 45. The Necromancer clearly smells a rat holding with Diderot:
De par le Roi! Defense á Dieu
De faire miracle en ce lieu;
and the stage properties afterwards found with the holy woman, such as the gallipot of colouring ointment, justify his suspicion.
217 “ ‘Ajáib” plur. of “ ‘Ajíb,” a common exclamation amongst the populace. It is used in Persian as well as in Arabic.
218 Evidently la force de l’imagination, of which a curious illustration was given in Paris during the debauched days of the Second Empire. Before a highly “fashionable” assembly of men appeared a youth in fleshings who sat down upon a stool, bared his pudenda and closed his eyes when, by “force of fancy,” erection and emission took place. But presently it was suspected and proved that the stool was hollow and admitted from below a hand whose titillating fingers explained the phenomenon.
219 a Moslems are curious about sleeping postures and the popular saying is:— Lying upon the right side is proper to Kings; upon the left to Sages, to sleep supine is the position of Allah’s Saints and prone upon the belly is peculiar to the Devils.
220 This “ ‘Asá,” a staff five to six feet long, is one of the properties of Moslem Saints and reverends who, imitating that furious old Puritan, Caliph Omar, make and are allowed to make a pretty liberal distribution of its caresses.
221 i.e. as she was in her own home.
222 Arab. “Sulúk” a Sufistical expression, the road to salvation, &c.
223 In the H. V. her diet consisted of dry bread and fruits.
224 This is the first mention of the windows in the Arabic MS.
225 For this “Roc” of the older writers see vols. v. 122; vi. 16-49. I may remind the reader that the O. Egyptian “Rokh,” or “Rukh,” by some written “Rekhit,” whose ideograph is a monstrous bird with one claw raised, also denotes pure wise Spirits, the Magi, &c. I know a man who derives from it our “rook” = beak and parson.
226 In the H. V he takes the Lamp from his bosom, where he had ever kept it since his misadventure with the African Magician
227 Here the mythical Rukh is mixed up with the mysterious bird Símurgh, for which see vol. x. 117.
228 The H. V. adds, “hoping thereby that thou and she and all the household should fall into perdition.”
229 Rank mesmerism, which has been practiced in the East from ages immemorial. In Christendom Santa Guglielma worshipped at Brunate, “works many miracles, chiefly healing aches of head.” In the H. V. Alaeddin feigns that he is ill and fares to the Princess with his head tied up.
230 Mr. Morier in “The Mirza” (vol. i. 87) says, “Had the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, with all their singular fertility of invention and never-ending variety, appeared as a new book in the present day, translated literally and not adapted to European taste in the manner attempted in M. Galland’s translation, I doubt whether they would have been tolerated, certainly not read with the avidity they are, even in the dress with which he has clothed them, however imperfect that dress maybe.” But in Morier’s day the literal translation was so despised that an Eastern book was robbed of half its charms, both of style and idea.
231 In the MS. Of the Bibliothèque National, Supplement Arabe (No. 2523, vol. ii. fol. 147), the story which follows “Aladdin” is that of the Ten Wazirs, for which see Supp. Nights ii. In Galland the Histoire de Codadad et des ses Frères comes next to the tale of Zayn al-Asnam: I have changed the sequence in order that the two stories directly translated from the Arabic may be together.
Said she, O auspicious King, this my tale relateth to the Kingdom of Diyár Bakr233 in whose capital-city of Harrán234 dwelt a Sultan of illustrious lineage, a protector of the people, a lover of his lieges, a friend of mankind and renowned for being gifted with every good quality. Now Allah Almighty had bestowed upon him all that his heart could desire, save boon of child, for though he had lovely wives within his Harem-door and fair concubines galore, he had been not blessed with a son; wherefor he offered up incessant worship to the Creator. One night there appeared to him in a dream a man of comely visage and holy of semblance like unto a prophet, who addressed him, saying, “O puissant King, thy vows are at length heard. Arise to-morrow at day-dawn, pray a two-bow prayer and offer up thy petitions; then haste thee to the Chief Gardener of thy palace and require of him a pomegranate whereof do thou eat as many seeds as seemeth best to thee; after which perform another two-bow prayer, and Allah will shower favours and graces upon thy head.” The King, awaking at peep of day, called to mind the vision of the night, and returning thanks to the Almighty, made his orisons and kneeling invoked a benedicite. Then he rose and repaired to the garth, and receiving a pomegranate from the Head-Gardener, counted out and ate fifty grains thereof; to wit, one for each of his wives. After this he lay the night in turn with them all and by the omnipotence of the Creator all gave in due time signs of pregnancy, save one Firúzah235 hight. So the King conceived a grudge against her, saying in his soul, “Allah holdeth this woman vile and accursed and He willeth not that she become the mother of a Prince, and on this wise hath the curse of barrenness become her lot.” He would have had her done to death but the Grand Wazir made intercession for her and suggested to the Sultan that perchance Firuzah might prove with child and withal not show outward signal thereof, as is the manner of certain women; wherefore to slay her might be to destroy a Prince with the mother. Quoth the King, “So be it! slay her not, but take heed that she abide no longer or at court or in the city, for I cannot support the sight of her.” Replied the Minister, “It shall be done even as thy Highness biddeth: let her be conveyed to the care of thy brother’s son, Prince Samír.” The King did according to the counsel of his Wazir and despatched his loathed Queen to Samaria236 accompanied by a writ with the following purport, to his nephew, “We forward this lady to thy care: entreat her honourably and, shouldest thou remark tokens of pregnancy in her, see that thou acquaint us therewith without stay or delay.” So Firuzah journeyed to Samaria, and when her time was fulfilled she gave birth to a boy babe, and became the mother of a Prince who in favour was resplendent as the sheeny day. Hereat the lord of Samaria sent message by letter to the Sultan of Harran saying, “A Prince hath been borne by the womb of Firuzah: Allah Almighty give thee permanence of prosperity!” By these tidings the King was filled with joy; and presently he replied to his cousin, Prince Samir, “Each one of my forty-and-nine spouses hath been blessed with issue and it delighteth me beyond bounds that Firuzah hath also given me a son. Let him be named Khudadad — God’s gift — do thou have due care of him and whatsoever thou mayest need for his birth-ceremonies shall be counted out to thee without regard to cost.” Accordingly Prince Samir took in hand with all pleasure and delight the charge of Prince Khudadad; and, as soon as the child reached the age for receiving instruction, he caused him to be taught cavalarice and archery and all such arts and sciences which it behoveth the sons of the Kings to learn, so that he became perfect in all manner knowledge. At eighteen years of age he waxed seemly of semblance and such were his strength and valiance that none in the whole world could compare with him. Presently, feeling himself gifted with unusual vigour and virile character he addressed one day of the days Firuzah his parent, saying, “O mother mine, grant me thy leave to quit Samaria and fare in quest of fortune, especially of some battle-field where I may prove the force and prowess of me. My sire, the Sultan of Harran, hath many foes, some of whom are lusting to wage war with him; and I marvel that at such time he doth not summon me and make me his aid in this mightiest of matters. But seeing that I possess such courage and Allah-given strength it behoveth me not to remain thus idly at home. My father knoweth not of my lustihood, nor forsooth doth he think of me at all; nevertheless ’tis suitable that at such a time I present myself before him, and tender my services until my brothers be fit to fight and to front his foes.” Hereto his mother made answer, “O my dear son, thine absence pleaseth me not, but in truth it becometh thee to help thy father against the enemies who are attacking him on all sides, provided that he send for thine aidance."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Khudadad replied to his mother Firuzah, “Indeed I am unable to brook delay; moreover such longing have I in heart to look upon the Sultan, my sire, that an I go not and visit him and kiss his feet I shall assuredly die. I will enter his employ as a stranger and all unknown to him, nor will I inform him that I am his son; but I shall be to him as a foreigner or as one of his hired knaves, and with such devotion will I do him suit and service that, when he learneth that I am indeed his child, he may grant me his favour and affection.” Prince Samir also would not suffer him to depart and forbade him therefrom; but one day of the days the Prince suddenly set out from Samaria under pretext that he was about to hunt and chase. He mounted a milk-white steed, whose reins and stirrups were of gold and the saddle and housings were of azure satin dubbed with jewels and fringed with pendants of fresh pearls. His scymitar was hilted with a single diamond, the scabbard of chaunders-wood was crested with rubies and emeralds and it depended from a gemmed waist-belt; while his bow and richly wrought quiver hung by his side. Thus equipped and escorted by his friends and familiars he presently arrived at Harran-city after the fairest fashion; and, when occasion offered itself, he made act of presence before the King and did his obeisance at Darbar. The Sultan, remarking his beauty and comeliness, or haply by reason of an outburst of natural affection, was pleased to return his salam; and, graciously calling him to his side, asked of him his name and pedigree, whereto Khudadad answered, “O my liege, I am the son of an Emir of Cairo. A longing for travel hath made me quit my native place and wander from clime to clime till at length I have come hither; and, hearing that thou hast matters of importance in hand, I am desirous of approving to thee my valiancy.” The King joyed with exceeding joy to hear this stout and doughty speech, and forthwith gave him a post of command in his army; and Khudadad by careful supervision of the troops soon won the esteem of his officers by his desire to satisfy them and the hearts of his soldiers by reason of his strength and courage, his goodly nature and his kindly disposition. He also brought the host and all its equipments and munitions of warfare into such excellent order and method that the King on inspecting them was delighted and created the stranger Chief Commandant of the forces and made him an especial favourite; while the Wazirs and Emirs, also the Nabobs and the Notables, perceiving that he was highly reputed and regarded, showed him abundant good will and affection. Presently, the other Princes, who became of no account in the eyes of the King and the lieges, waxed envious of his high degree and dignity. But Khudadad ceased not to please the Sultan his sire, at all times when they conversed together, by his prudence and discretion, his wit and wisdom, and gained his regard ever more and more; and when the invaders, who had planned a raid on the realm, heard of the discipline of the army and of Khudadad’s provisions for materials of war, they abstained from all hostile intent. After a while the King committed to Khudadad the custody and education of the forty-nine Princes, wholly relying on his sagesse and skill; and thus, albeit Khudadad was of age like his brothers, he became their master by reason of his sapience and good sense. Whereupon they hated him but the more; and, when taking counsel one day, quoth one to the other, “What be this thing our sire hath done that he should make a stranger-wight his cup-companion and set him to lord it over us? We can do naught save by leave of this our governor, and our condition is past bearing; so contrive we to rid ourselves of this foreigner and at least render him vile and contemptible in the eyes of our sire the Sultan.” Said one, “Let us gather together and slay him in some lonely spot;” and said another, “Not so! to kill him would benefit us naught, for how could we keep the matter hidden from the King? He would become our enemy and Allah only wotteth what evil might befal us. Nay, rather let us crave permission of him and fare a-hunting and then tarry we in some far-off town; and after a while the King will marvel at our absence, then grief will be sore upon him and at length, waxing displeased and suspicious, he will have this fellow expelled the palace or haply done to death. This is the only sure and safe way of bringing about his destruction."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the forty-and-nine brothers agreed to hold this plan wisest and, presently going together to Khudadad, asked leave of him to ride about the country awhile or fare to the chase, promising they would return by set of sun. He fell into the snare and allowed them to go; whereupon they sallied forth a-hunting but did not come back that day or the next. On the third morning the King who missed them asked Khudadad wherefore it was that none of his sons were to be seen; and he answered that three days before they had gotten leave from him to go a-hunting and had not returned. Hereat the father was perplexed with sore perplexity; and, when sundry days more had passed by and still the Princes appeared not, the old Sultan was much troubled in mind and hardly restraining his rage summoned Khudadad and in hot wrath exclaimed, “O thou neglectful stranger, what courage and over-daring is this of thine that thou didst suffer my sons fare to the chase and didst not ride with them! And now ’tis but right that thou set out and search for them and bring them back; otherwise thou shalt surely die.” Khudadad, hearing these harsh words, was startled and alarmed; however he got him ready and mounted his horse forthwith and left the city in quest of the Princes his brethren, wandering about from country to country, like unto a herd seeking a straying flock of goats. Presently, not finding any trace of them in homestead or on desert-ground, he became sad and sorrowful exceedingly, saying in his soul, “O my brothers, what hath befallen you and where can ye be dwelling? Perchance some mighty foeman hath made you prisoners so that ye cannot escape; and I may never return unto Harran till I find you; for this will be a matter of bitter regret and repine to the King.” So he repented more and more having suffered them to go without his escort and guidance. At length whilst searching for them from plain to plain and forest to forest he chanced come upon a large and spacious prairie in the middlemost whereof rose a castle of black marble; so he rode on at a foot pace and when close under the walls he espied a lady of passing beauty and loveliness who was seated at a window in melancholy plight and with no other ornament than her own charms. Her lovely hair hung down in dishevelled locks; her raiment was tattered and her favour was pale and showed sadness and sorrow. Withal she was speaking under her breath and Khudadad, giving attentive ear, heard her say these words, “O youth, fly this fatal site, else thou wilt fall into the hands of the monster who dwelleth here: a man-devouring Ethiopian237 is lord of this palace; and he seizeth all whom Fate sendeth to this prairie and locketh them up in darksome and narrow cells that he may preserve them for food.” Khudadad exclaimed, “O my lady, tell me I pray thee who thou art and whereabouts was thy home;” and she answered, “I am a daughter of Cairo and of the noblest thereof. But lately, as I wended my way to Baghdad, I alighted upon this plain and met that Habashi, who slew all my servants and carrying me off by force placed me in this palace. I no longer cared to live, and a thousand times better were it for me to die; for that this Abyssinian lusteth to enjoy me and albeit to the present time I have escaped the caresses of the impure wretch, to-morrow an I still refuse to gratify his desire he will surely ravish me and do me dead. So I have given up all hope of safety; but thou, why hast thou come hither to perish? Escape without stay or delay, for he hath gone forth in quest of wayfarers and right soon will he return. Moreover he can see far and wide and can descry all who traverse this wold.” Now hardly had the lady spoken these words when the Abyssinian drew in sight; and he was as a Ghúl of the Wild, big of bulk, and fearsome of favour and figure, and he mounted a sturdy Tartar steed, brandishing, as he rode, a weighty blade which none save he could wield. Prince Khudadad seeing this monstrous semblance was sore amazed and prayed Heaven that he might be victorious over that devil: then unsheathing his sword he stood awaiting the Abyssinian’s approach with courage and steadfastness; but the blackamoor when he drew near deemed the Prince too slight and puny to fight and was minded to seize him alive. Khudadad, seeing how his foe had no intent to combat, struck him with his sword on the knee a stroke so dour that the negro foamed with rage and yelled a yell so loud that the whole prairie resounded with the plaint. Thereupon the brigand, fiery with fury, rose straight in his shovel-stirrups and struck fiercely at Khudadad with his huge sword and, but for the Prince’s cunning of fence and the cleverness of his courser, he would have been sliced in twain like unto a cucumber. Though the scymitar whistled through the air, the blow was harmless, and in an eye-twinkling Khudadad dealt him a second cut and struck off his right hand which fell to the ground with the sword hilt it gripped, when the blackamoor losing his balance rolled from the saddle and made earth resound with the fall. Thereupon the Prince sprang from his steed and deftly severing the enemy’s head from his body threw it aside. Now the lady had been looking down at the lattice rigid in prayer for the gallant youth; and, seeing the Abyssinian slain and the Prince victorious, she was overcome with exceeding joy and cried out to her deliverer, “Praise be to Almighty Allah, O my lord, who by thy hand hath defeated and destroyed this fiend. Come now to me within the castle, whose keys are with the Abyssinian; so take them and open the door and deliver me.” Khudadad found a large bunch of keys under the dead man’s girdle wherewith he opened the portals of the fort and entered a large saloon in which was the lady; and, no sooner did she behold him than running to meet him she was about to cast herself at his feet and kiss them when Khudadad prevented her. She praised him with highest praise and extolled him for valiancy above all the champions of the world, and he returned the salam to her who, when seen near hand seemed endued with more grace and charms than had appeared from afar. So the Prince joyed with extreme joy and the twain sat down in pleasant converse. Presently, Khudadad heard shrieks and cries and weeping and wailing with groans and moans and ever loudening lamentations; so he asked the lady, saying, “whence are these clamours and from whom come these pitiful complaints?” And, she pointing to a wicket in a hidden corner of the court below, answered, saying, “O my lord, these sounds come therefrom. Many wretches driven by Destiny have fallen into the clutches of the Abyssinian Ghul and are securely locked up in cells, and each day he was wont to roast and eat one of the captives.” “’Twill please me vastly,” quoth Khudadad, “to be the means of their deliverance: come, O my lady, and show me where they are imprisoned.” Thereupon the twain drew near to the place and the Prince forthright tried a key upon the lock of the dungeon but it did not fit; then he made essay of another wherewith they opened the wicket. As they were so doing the report of the captives’ moaning and groaning increased yet more and more until Khudadad, touched and troubled at their impatience, asked the cause of it. The lady replied, “O my lord, hearing our footsteps and the rattling of the key in the lock they deem that the cannibal, according to his custom, hath come to supply them with food and to secure one of them for his evening meal. Each feareth lest his turn for roasting be come, so all are affrighted with sore affright and redouble their shouts and cries."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the sounds from that secret place seemed to issue from under ground or from the depths of a draw-well. But when the Prince opened the dungeon door, he espied a steep staircase and descending thereby found himself in a deep pit, narrow and darksome, wherein were penned more than an hundred persons with elbows pinioned and members chained; nor saw he aught of light save through one bull’s -eye. So he cried to them, “O ye unfortunates, fear ye no more! I have slain the Abyssinian; and render ye praise to Allah Almighty who hath rid you of your wrong-doer: also I come to strike off your fetters and return you to freedom.” Hearing these glad tidings the prisoners were in raptures of delight and raised a general cry of joy and jubilee. Hereupon Khudadad and the lady began to loose their hands and feet; and each, as he was released from his durance, helped to unchain his fellows: brief, after a moment of time all were delivered from their bonds and bondage. Then each and every kissed Khudadad’s feet and gave thanks and prayed for his welfare; and when those whilom prisoners entered the court-yard whereupon the sun was shining sheen, Khudadad recognised amongst them his brothers, in quest of whom he had so long wandered. He was amazed with exceeding amazement and exclaimed, “Laud be to the Lord, that I have found you one and all safe and sound: your father is sorely sad and sorrowful at your absence; and Heaven forfend that this devil hath devoured any from amongst you.” He then counted their number, forty-and-nine, and set them apart from the rest; and all in excess of joy fell upon one another’s necks and ceased not to embrace their saviour. After this the Prince spread a feast for the captives, each and every, whom he had delivered; and, when they had eaten and drunken their full, he restored to them the gold and silver, the Turkey carpets and pieces of Chinese silk and brocade and other valuables innumerable which the Abyssinian had plundered from the caravans, as also their own personal goods and chattels, directing each man to claim his own; and what remained he divided equally amongst them. “But,” quoth he, “by what means can ye convey these bales to your own countries, and where can ye find beasts of burden in this wild wold?” Quoth they, “O our Lord, the Abyssinian robbed us of our camels with their loads and doubtless they are in the stables of the castle.” Hereupon Khudadad fared forth with them to the stables and there found tethered and tied not only the camels but also the forty-nine horses of his brothers the princes, and accordingly he gave to each one his own animal. There were moreover in the stables hundreds of Abyssinian slave-boys who, seeing the prisoners released, were certified that their lord the cannibal was slain and fled in dismay to the forest and none thought of giving chase to them. So the merchants loaded their merchandise upon the camels’ backs and farewelling the Prince set out for their own countries. Then quoth Khudadad to the lady, “O thou rare in beauty and chastity, whence camest thou when the Abyssinian seized thee and whither now wouldst thou wend? Inform me thereof that I may restore thee to thy home; haply these Princes, my brethren, sons of the Sultan of Harran, know thine abode; and doubtless they will escort thee thither.” The lady turning to Khudadad presently made answer, “I live far from here and my country, the land of Egypt, is over distant for travel. But thou, O valorous Prince, hast delivered mine honour and my life from the hands of the Abyssinian and hast shown me such favour that ’twould ill become me to conceal from thee my history. I am the daughter of a mighty king; reigning over the Sa’íd or upper Nile-land; and when a tyrant foeman seized him and, reaving him of life as well as of his realm, usurped his throne and seized his kingdom, I fled away to preserve my existence and mine honour.” Thereupon Khudadad and his brothers prayed the lady to recount all that had befallen her and reassured her, saying, “Henceforth thou shalt live in solace and luxury: neither toil nor trouble shall betide thee.” When she saw that there was no help for her but to tell all her tale, she began in the following words to recount the
In an island of the islands standeth a great city called Daryábár, wherein dwelt a king of exalted degree. But despite his virtue and his valour he was ever sad and sorrowful having naught of offspring, and he offered up without surcease prayers on that behalf. After long years and longsome supplications a half boon was granted to him; to wit, a daughter (myself) was born. My father who grieved sore at first presently rejoiced with joy exceeding at the unfortunate ill-fated birth of me; and, when I came of age to learn, he bade me be taught to read and write; and caused me to be instructed in court-ceremonial and royal duties and the chronicles of the past, to the intent that I might succeed him as heiress to his throne and his kingship. Now it happened one day that my sire rode out a-hunting and gave chase to a wild ass239 with such hot pursuit that he found himself at eventide separated from his suite; so, wearied with the chase, he dismounted from his steed and seating himself by the side of a forest-path, he said to himself “The onager will doubtless seek cover in this copse.” Suddenly he espied a light shining bright amidst the trees and, thinking that a hamlet might be hard by, he was minded to night there and at day-dawn to determine his further course. Hereupon he arose and walking towards the light he found that it issued from a lonely hut in the forest; then peering into the inside he espied an Abyssinian burly of bulk and in semblance like unto a Satan, seated upon a divan. Before him were ranged many capacious jars full of wine and over a fire of charcoal he was roasting a bullock whole and eating the flesh and ever and anon drinking deep draughts from one of the pitchers. Furthermore the King sighted in that hut a lady of exquisite beauty and comeliness sitting in a corner direly distressed: her hands were fast bound with cords, and at her feet a child of two or three years of age lay beweeping his mother’s sorry plight. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that seeing the doleful state of these twain, my sire was filled with ruth and longed to fall upon the ogre sword in hand; however, not being able to cope with him he restrained his wrath and remained on stealthy watch. The giant having drained all the pitchers of wine and devoured half of the barbacued bullock presently addressed himself to the lady and said, “O loveliest of Princesses, how long wilt thou prove thee coy and keep aloof from me? Dost thou not see how desirous I am of winning thy heart and how I am dying for the love of thee? ’Tis therefore only right that thou also shouldst return my affection and know me as thine own, when I will become to thee the kindest of mankind.” “O thou Ghul of the waste,” cried the lady, “what be this whereof thou pratest? Never; no, never shalt thou win thy wish of me, however much thou mayest lust therefor. Torment me or, an thou wilt, destroy me downright, but for my part I will on no wise yield me to thy lusts.” At these words the infuriated savage roared aloud, “’Tis enough and more than enough: thy hate breedeth hatred in me and now I desire less to have and hold thee than to do thee die.” Then he seized her with one hand, and drawing his sabre with the other, would have struck off her head from her body when my father shot at him a shaft so deftly that it pierced his heart and came out gleaming at his back and he fell to the ground and found instant admission into Jahannam. Hereupon my sire entered the hut and unbinding the lady’s bonds enquired of her who she was and by what means that ogre had brought her thither. Answered she, “Not far from this site there liveth on the sea-shore a race of Saracens, like unto the demons of the desert. Sorely against my will I was wedded to their Prince and the fulsome villain thou hast now slain was one of my husband’s chief officers. He fell madly in love to me and he longed with excessive longing to get me into his power and to carry me off from my home. Accordingly, one day of the days when my husband was out of the way and I was in privacy, he carried me off with this my babe from the palace to this wild wood wherein is none save He240 and where well he wot that all search and labour would be baffled; then, hour after hour he designed guilty designs against me, but by the mercy of Almighty Allah I have ever escaped all carnal soil of that foul monster. This evening, in despair of my safety, I was rejecting his brutal advances when he attempted to take my life and in the attempt he was slain by thy valorous hand. This is then my story which I have told thee.” My father reassured the Princess, saying, “O my lady, let thy heart be at ease; at day-break I will take thee away from this wilderness and escort thee to Daryabar, of which city I am the Sultan; and, shouldst thou become fain of that place, then dwell therein until thy husband shall come in quest of thee.” Quoth the lady, “O my lord, this plan doth not displease me.” So with the earliest light next morning my father took mother and child away from that forest and set forth homewards when suddenly he fell in with his Sirdars and officers who had been wandering hither and thither during the livelong night in search of him. They rejoiced with great joy on seeing the King and marvelled with exceeding marvel at the sight of a veiled one with him, admiring much that so love-some a lady should be found dwelling in a wold so wild. Thereupon the King related to them the tale of the ogre and of the Princess and how he had slain the blackamoor. Presently they set forth on their homeward way; one of the Emirs seating the dame behind him on his horse’s crupper while another took charge of the child. They reached the royal city, where the King ordered a large and splendid mansion to be built for his guest, the babe also received a suitable education; and thus the mother passed her days in perfect comfort and happiness. After the lapse of some months, when no tidings, however fondly expected, came of her husband, she resigned herself to marrying my father whom she had captivated by her beauty and loveliness and amorous liveliness,241 whereupon he wedded her, and when the marriage-contract was drawn up (as was customary in those days), they sojourned together in one stead. As time went on the lad grew up to be a lusty youth of handsome mien; moreover he became perfect in courtly ceremonial and in every art and science that befit Princes. The King and all the Ministers and Emirs highly approved of him, and determined that I should be married to him, and that he should succeed the sovereign as heir to throne and kingship. The youth also was well pleased with such tokens of favour from my father, but chiefly he rejoiced with exceeding joy to hear talk of his union with his protector’s only daughter. One day my sire desired to place my hand in his to the intent that the marriage ceremony should at once take place, but first he would impose upon my suitor certain conditions, whereof one was that he should wed none other but his wife’s daughter, that is, myself. This pledge displeased the haughty youth, who forthwith refused his consent thereto, deeming himself by the demand of such condition a despised and contemptible suitor of villain birth. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that, the lady continued:— On this wise the wedding was deferred, and this delay became a matter of sore displeasure to the young man, who thought in his heart that my father was his foe. Therefore he ever strove to lure him into his power till one day in a frenzy of rage he slew him and proclaimed himself King of Daryabar. Moreover the murtherer would have entered my chamber to kill me also had not the Wazir, a true and faithful servant of the crown, at the tidings of his liege lord’s death speedily taken me away, and hidden me in the house of a friend where he bade me remain concealed. Two days afterwards, having fitted out a ship, he embarked me therein with a Kahramánah — an old duenna — and set sail for a country whose King was of my father’s friends, to the intent that he might consign me to his charge, and obtain from him the aid of an army wherewith he might avenge himself upon the ungrateful and ungracious youth who had proved himself a traitor to the salt.242 But a few days after our weighing anchor a furious storm began to blow making the captain and crew sore confounded and presently the waves beat upon the vessel with such exceeding violence that she brake up, and the Wazir and the duenna and all who were therein (save myself) were drowned in the billows. But I, albeit well nigh a-swoon, clung to a plank and was shortly after washed ashore by the send of the sea, for Allah of His mighty power had preserved me safe and sound from death-doom by the raging of the ocean, to the end that further troubles might befal me. When I returned to sense and consciousness, I found myself alive on the strand and offered up grateful thanks to Almighty Allah; but not seeing the Wazir or any one of the company I knew that they had perished in the waters. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princess of Daryabar continued:— Presently, calling to remembrance the murther of my father I cried aloud with an exceeding bitter cry and was sore afraid at my lonesome plight, insomuch that I would fain have cast myself again into the sea, when suddenly the voice of man and tramp of horse-hooves fell upon my ears. Then looking about I descried a band of cavaliers in the midst of whom was a handsome prince: he was mounted upon a steed of purest Rabite243 blood and was habited in a gold-embroidered surcoat; a girdle studded with diamonds girt his loins and on his head was a crown of gold; in fine it was evident from his garb as from his aspect that he was a born ruler of mankind. Thereupon, seeing me all alone on the sea-shore, the knights marvelled with exceeding marvel; then the Prince detached one of his captains to ascertain my history and acquaint him there-with; but albeit the officer plied me with questions I answered him not a word and shed a flood of tears in the deepest silence. So noting the waifage on the sand they thought to themselves, “Perchance some vessel hath been wrecked upon this shore and its planks and timber have been cast upon the land, and doubtless this lady was in that ship and hath been floated ashore on some plank.” Whereupon the cavaliers crowded around me and implored me to relate unto them what had befallen me; nevertheless I still answered them not a word. Presently the Prince himself drew near to me and, much amazed, sent away his suite from about me and addressed me in these words, “O my lady, fear naught of ill from me nor distress thyself by needless affright. I would convey thee to my home and under my mother’s care; wherefore I am curious to know of thee who thou art. The Queen will assuredly befriend thee and keep thee in comfort and happiness.” And now understanding that his heart was drawn towards me, I told him all that had betided me, and he on hearing the story of my sad destiny became moved with the deepest emotion and his eyes brimmed with tears. Then he comforted me and carried me with him and committed me to the Queen his mother, who also lent kindly ear to my tale of the past, first and last, and hearing it she also was greatly grieved, and wearied not day or night in tending me and (as far as in her lay) striving to make me happy. Seeing, moreover, that her son was deeply enamoured of me and love-distraught she agreed to my becoming his wife, while I also consented when I looked upon his handsome and noble face and figure and to his proved affection for me and his goodness of heart. Accordingly, in due time the marriage was celebrated with royal pomp and circumstance. But what escape is there from Fate? On that very night, the night of the wedding, a King of Zanzibar who dwelt hard by that island, and had erewhile practised against the kingdom, seizing his opportunity, attacked us with a mighty army, and having put many to death, bethought him to take me and my husband alive. But we escaped from his hands and fleeing under the murks of night to the sea-shore found there a fisherman’s boat, which we entered thanking our stars and launched it and floated far away on the current, unknowing whither Destiny was directing us. On the third day we espied a vessel making us, whereat we rejoiced with joy excessive, deeming her to be some merchantman coming to our aidance. No sooner had it lain alongside, however, than up there sprang five or six pirates,244 each brandishing a naked brand in hand, and boarding us tied our arms behind us and carried us to their craft. They then tare the veil from my face and forthwith desired to possess me, each saying to other, “I will enjoy this wench.” On this wise wrangling and jangling ensued till right soon it turned to battle and bloodshed, when moment by moment and one by one the ravishers fell dead until all were slain save a single pirate, the bravest of the band. Quoth he to me, “Thou shalt fare with me to Cairo where dwelleth a friend of mine and to him will I give thee, for erewhile I promised him that on this voyage I would secure for him a fair woman for handmaid.” Then seeing my husband, whom the pirates had left in bonds he exclaimed, “Who may be this hound? Is he to thee a lover or a friend?” and I made answer, “He is my wedded husband.” “’Tis well,” cried he: “in very sooth it behoveth me to release him from the bitter pangs of jealousy and the sight of thee enfolded in another’s fond embrace.” Whereat the ruffian raised aloft the ill-fated Prince, bound foot and hand, and cast him into the sea, while I shrieked aloud and implored his mercy, but all in vain. Seeing the Prince struggling and drowning in the waves I cried out and screamed and buffetted my face and tare my hair and would fain have cast myself into the waters but I could not, for he held me fast and lashed me to the mainmast. Then, pursuing our course with favouring winds we soon arrived at a small port-village where he bought camels and boy-slaves and journeyed on towards Cairo; but when several stages of the road were left behind us, the Abyssinian who dwelt in this castle suddenly overtook us. From afar we deemed him to be a lofty tower, and when near us could hardly believe him to be a human being. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princess of Daryabar continued:— At once unsheathing his huge sword the Habashi made for the pirate and ordered him to surrender himself prisoner, with me and all his slaves, and with pinioned elbows to accompany him. Hereat the robber with hot courage and heading his followers rushed fiercely on the Abyssinian, and for a long time the fight raged thick and fast, till he and his lay dead upon the field; whereupon the Abyssinian led off the camels and carried me and the pirate’s corpse to this castle, and devoured the flesh of his foe at his evening meal. Then turning to me as I wept with bitter weeping he said, “Banish from thy breast this woe and this angry mood; and abide in this castle at perfect ease and in comfort, and solace thyself with my embraces. However, since thou appearest at this present to be in dire distress, I will excuse thee for to-night, but without fail I shall require thee of thyself on the morrow.” He then led me into a separate chamber and locking fast the gates and doors, fell asleep alone in another place. Arising early on the next morning he searched the castle round about, unlocked the wicket which he closed again and sallied forth, according to his custom, in quest of wayfarers. But the caravan escaped him and anon he returned empty-handed when thou didst set upon him and slay him.” On this wise the Princess of Daryabar related her history to Prince Khudadad who was moved with ruth for her: then comforting her he said, “Henceforth fear naught nor be on any wise dismayed. These princes are the sons of the King of Harran; and if it please thee, let them lead thee to his court and stablish thee in comfort and luxury: the King also will guard thee from all evil. Or, shouldest thou be loath to fare with them, wilt thou not consent to take for spouse him who hath rescued thee from so great calamity?” The Princess of Daryabar consented to wed with him and forthwith the marriage was celebrated with grand display in the castle and here they found meats and drinks of sundry sorts, and delicious fruits and fine wines wherewith the cannibal would regale himself when a-weary of man’s flesh. So Khudadad made ready dishes of every colour and feasted his brothers. Next day taking with them such provaunt as was at hand, all set forth for Harran, and at the close of each stage they chose a suitable stead for nighting; and, when but one day’s journey lay before them, the Princes supped that night off what was left to them of their viaticum and drained all the wine that remained. But when the drink had mastered their wits, Khudadad thus addressed his brothers, saying, “Hitherto have I withheld from you the secret of my birth, which now I must disclose. Know ye then that I am your brother, for I also am a son of the King of Harran, whom the Lord of Samaria-land brought up and bade educate; and lastly, my mother is the Princess Firuzah.” Then to the Princess of Daryabar, “Thou didst not recognize my rank and pedigree and, had I discovered myself erewhile, haply thou hadst been spared the mortification of being wood by a man of vulgar blood. But now ease thy mind for that thy husband is a Prince.” Quoth she, “Albeit thou discoveredst to me naught until this time, still my heart felt assured that thou wast of noble birth and the son of some potent sovereign.” The Princes one and all appeared outwardly well pleased and offered each and every warm congratulations whilst the wedding was celebrating; but inwardly they were filled with envy and sore annoy at such unwelcome issue of events, so much so that when Khudadad retired with the Princess of Daryabar to his tent and slept, those ingrates, forgetful of the service rendered to them by their brother in that he had rescued them when prisoners in the hands of the man-devouring Abyssinian, remained deep in thought and seeking a safe place took counsel one with other to kill him. Quoth the foremost of them, “O my brethren, our father showed him the liveliest affection when he was to us naught save a vagrant and unknown, and indeed made him our ruler and our governor; and now, hearing of his victory won from the ogre and learning that the stranger is his son, will not our sire forthwith appoint this bastard his only heir and give him dominion over us so that we must all be forced to fall at his feet and bear his yoke? My rede is this that we make an end of him in this very spot.” Accordingly they stole softly into his tent and dealt him from every side strokes with their swords, so that they slashed him in every limb and fondly thought that they had left him dead on the bed without their awaking the Princess. Next morning they entered the city of Harran and made their salams to the King, who despaired of sighting them again, so he rejoiced with exceeding joy on seeing them restored to him safe and sound and sane, and asked why they had tarried from him so long. In reply they carefully concealed from him their being thrown into the dungeon by the Ghul of Abyssinia and how Khudadad had rescued them: on the contrary all declared that they had been delayed whilst a-hunting and a-visiting the adjacent cities and countries. So the Sultan gave full credence to their account and held his peace. Such was their case; but as regards Khudadad, when the Princess of Daryabar awoke in the morning she found her bridegroom lying drowned in blood gashed and pierced with a score of wounds. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that, the Princess, deeming her bridegroom dead, wept at this sight right sore; and, calling to mind his youth and beauty, his valour and his many virtues, she washed his face with her tears and exclaimed, “Well-away and woe is me, O my lover, O Khudadad, do these eyes look upon thee in sudden and violent death? Are these thy brothers (the devils!) whom thy courage hath saved, the destroyers of thee? Nay ’tis I am thy murtheress; I who suffered thee to ally thy Fate with my hapless destiny, a lot that doometh to destruction all who befriend me.” Then considering the body attentively she perceived that breath was slowly coming and going through his nostrils, and that his limbs were yet warm. So she made fast the tent-door and ran city-wards to seek a surgeon, and anon having found a skilful leech, she returned with him, but lo and behold! Khudadad was missing. She wist not what had become of him, but thought in her mind that some wild beast had carried him off; then she wept bitterly and bemoaned her mishap, so that the surgeon was moved to ruth and with words of comfort and consolation offered her house and service; and lastly he bore her to the town and assigned to her a separate dwelling. He also appointed two slave-girls to wait upon her, and albeit he knew naught of her condition he was ever in attendance on her with the honour and homage due to the kings. One day, she being somewhat less sad of heart, the surgeon, who had now informed himself of her condition, asked her, saying, “O my lady, be pleased to acquaint me with thine estate and thy misfortunes, and as far as in me lieth I will strive to aid and succour thee.” And she, observing the leech to be shrewd and trustworthy withal, made known to him her story. Quoth the surgeon, “An it be thy wish, I would gladly escort thee to thy father-in-law the King of Harran, who is indeed a wise sovereign and a just; and he will rejoice to see thee and will take vengeance on the unnatural Princes, his sons, for the blood of thy husband unjustly shed.” These words pleased well the Princess; so the surgeon hired two dromedaries which they mounted and the twain set forth for the city of Harran. Alighting that same evening at a caravanserai the leech asked what news had come from town; and the Keeper answered, “The King of Harran had a son passing valiant and accomplished who abode with him for some years as a stranger; but lately he was lost, nor doth any know of him whether he be dead or alive. The Princess Firuzah his mother hath sent allwheres in search of him, yet hath she found nor trace nor tidings of him. His parents and indeed all the folk, rich and poor, weep and wail for him and albeit the Sultan hath other forty and nine sons, none of them can compare with him for doughty deeds and skilful craft, nor from any one of them deriveth he aught of comfort or consolation. Full quest and search have been made but hitherto all hath been in vain.” The surgeon thereupon made known these words to the Princess of Daryabar, who was minded to go straightway and acquaint the mother of Khudadad with everything that had befallen her husband; but the surgeon, after full reflection, said, “O Princess, shouldst thou fare with this intent, haply ere thou arrive thither the forty-nine Princes may hear of thy coming; and they, by some means or other, will assuredly do thee die, and thy life will be spent to no purpose. Nay, rather let me go first to Prince Khudadad’s mother: I will tell her all thy tale and she doubtless will send for thee. Until such time do thou remain secret in this Serai.” Accordingly the leech rode on leisurely for the city and on the road he met a lady mounted upon a she-mule245 whose housings were of the richest and finest, while behind her walked confidential servants, followed by a band of horsemen and foot- soldiers and Habashi slaves; and, as she rode along, the people formed espalier, standing on either side to salute her while she passed. The leech also joined the throng and made his obeisance, after which quoth he to a bystander, which was a Darwaysh, “Methinks this lady must be a queen?” “’Tis even so,” quoth the other, “she is the consort of our Sultan and all the folk honour and esteem her above her sister-wives for that in truth she is the mother of Prince Khudadad and of him thou surely hast heard.” Hereupon the surgeon accompanied the cavalcade; and, when the lady dismounted at a cathedral-mosque and gave alms of Ashrafis246 and gold coins to all around (for the King had enjoined her that until Khudadad’s return she should deal charity to the poor with her own hand, and pray for the youth’s being restored to his home in peace and safety), the mediciner also mingled with the throng which joined in supplications for their favourite and whispered to a slave saying, “O my brother, it behoveth me that I make known without stay or delay to Queen Firuzah a secret which is with me.” Replied he, “An it be aught concerning Prince Khudadad ’tis well: the King’s wife will surely give ear to thee; but an it be other, thou wilt hardly win a hearing, for that she is distraught by the absence of her son and careth not for aught beside.” The surgeon, still speaking low, made reply, “My secret concerneth that which is on her mind.” “If this be so,” returned the slave, “do thou follow her train privily till it arrive at the palace gate.” Accordingly, when the Lady Firuzah reached her royal apartments, the man made petition to her, saying, “A stranger would fain tell somewhat to thee in private;” and she deigned give permission and command, exclaiming, “’Tis well, let him be brought hither.” Hereupon the slave presented to her the surgeon whom the Queen with gracious mien bade approach; and he, kissing ground between her hands, made his petition in these words: “I have a long tale to tell thy Highness whereat thou shalt greatly marvel.” Then he described to her Khudadad’s condition, the villainy of his brothers and his death at their hands and of his corpse having been carried off by wild beasts. Queen Firuzah hearing of her son’s murther fell straight- way a-swooning to the ground, and the attendants ran up and, raising her, besprinkled her face with rose-water until she recovered sense and consciousness. Then she gave orders to the surgeon saying, “Hie thee straightway to the Princess of Daryabar and convey to her greetings and expressions of sympathy both from myself and from his sire;” and as the leech departed she called to mind her son and wept with sore weeping. By chance the Sultan, who was passing by that way, seeing Firuzah in tears and sobs and breaking out into sore and bitter lamentation, asked of her the reason thereof. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that when her husband enquired of Queen Firuzah why and wherefore she wept and wailed, and moaned and groaned, she told him all she had heard from the leech, and her husband was filled with hot wrath against his sons. So he rose up and went straightway to the audience-chamber, where the townsfolk had gathered together to petition him and to pray for justice and redress; and they, seeing his features working with rage, were all sore afraid. Presently the Sultan seated himself on the throne of his kingship and gave an order to his Grand Wazir, saying, “O Wazir Hasan, take with thee a thousand men of the guard which keepeth watch and ward over the palace and do thou bring hither the forty-and- nine Princes, my unworthy sons, and cast them into the prison appointed unto man-slayers and murtherers; and have a heed that none of them escape.” The Wazir did as he was bidden, and seizing the Princes one and all cast them into gaol with the murtherers and other criminals, then reported his action to his liege lord. Hereat the Sultan dismissed sundry claimants and suppliants, saying, “For the space of one full-told month henceforth it besitteth me not to sit in the justice-hall. Depart hence, and, when the thirty days shall have passed away, do ye return hither again.” After this rising from the throne he took with him the Wazir Hasan, and entering the apartment of Queen Firuzah, gave command to the Minister that he bring in all haste and with royal state and dignity from the caravanserai, the Princess of Daryabar and the mediciner. The Wazir straightway took horse accompanied by the Emirs and soldiers; and, leading a fine white she-mule richly adorned with jewelled trappings from out of the royal stables, he rode to the caravanserai wherein abode the Princess of Daryabar. Having told her all that the King had done, he seated her upon the animal and, mounting the surgeon upon a steed of Turcoman247 blood, all three proceeded with pomp and grandeur to the palace. The shop-keepers and townsfolk ran out to greet the lady as the cavalcade wound its way through the streets; and, when they heard say that she was the wife of Prince Khudadad, they rejoiced with exceeding joy for that they should now receive tidings of his whereabouts. As soon as the procession reached the palace gates the Princess of Daryabar saw the Sultan, who had come forth to greet her, and she alighted from the mule and kissed his feet. The King then raised her by the hand and conducted her to the chamber wherein sat Queen Firuzah awaiting her visit, and all three fell on one another’s necks and wept sore and could on no wise control their grief. But whenas their sorrow was somewhat assuaged, the Princess of Daryabar said to the King, “O my lord the Sultan, I would proffer humble petition that full vengeance may fall upon those, one and all, by whom my husband hath been so foully and cruelly murthered.” Replied the King, “O my lady, rest assured that I will assuredly put to death all those villains in requital for the blood of Khudadad;” presently adding, “’Tis true that the dead body of my brave son hath not been found, still it seemeth but right to me that a tomb be built, a cenotaph whereby his greatness and goodness may be held in everlasting remembrance.” Thereupon he summoned the Grand Wazir and bade that a great Mausoleum of white marble be edified amiddlemost the city and the Minister straightway appointed workmen and made choice of a suitable spot in the very centre of the capital. So there they built a gorgeous cenotaph crowned with a noble dome under which was sculptured a figure of Khudadad; and, when the news of its completion reached the King, he appointed a day for ceremonious mourning and perlections of the Koran. At the appointed time and term the townsfolk gathered together to see the funeral procession and the obsequies for the departed; and the Sultan went in state to the Mausoleum together with all the Wazirs, the Emirs and Lords of the land, and took seat upon carpets of black satin purfled with flowers of gold which were dispread over the marble floor. After a while a bevy of Knights rode up, with downcast heads and half-closed eyes; and twice circuiting the dome248 they halted the third time in front of the door, and cried out aloud, “O Prince, O son of our Sultan, could we by the sway of our good swords and the strength of our gallant arms restore thee to life, nor heart nor force would fail us in the endeavour; but before the fiat of Almighty Allah all must bow the neck.” Then the horsemen rode away to the place whence they came, followed by one hundred hermits hoar of head and dwellers of the caves who had passed their lives in solitude and abstinence nor ever held converse with man or womankind, neither did they appear in Harran at any time save for the obsequies of the reigning race. In front came one of these greybeards steadying with one hand a huge and ponderous tome which he bore upon his head. Presently all the holy men thrice compassed the Mausoleum, then standing on the highway the eldest cried with a loud voice, “O Prince, could we by dint of orisons and devotions bring thee back to life, these hearts and souls of ours would be devoted to quickening thee, and on seeing thee arise once again we would wipe thy feet with our own age-white beards.” And when they also retired came one hundred maidens of wondrous beauty and loveliness, mounted on white barbs whose saddles were richly embroidered and set with jewels: their faces were bare and on their heads they bore golden canisters filled with precious stones, rubies and diamonds. They also rode in circuit round the cenotaph and, halting at the door, the youngest and fairest of them, speaking in the name of her sisterhood, exclaimed, “O Prince, could our youth and our charms avail thee aught, we would present ourselves to thee and become thy handmaids; but alas! thou knowest full well that our beauties are here all in vain nor can our love now warm thy clay.” Then they also departed in the deepest grief. As soon as they had disappeared the Sultan and all with him rose up and walked thrice round the figure that had been set up under the dome; then standing at its feet the father said, “O my beloved son, enlighten these eyes which tears for the stress of separation have thus bedimmed.” He then wept bitterly and all his Ministers and Courtiers and Grandees joined in his mourning and lamentations; and, when they had made an end of the obsequies, the Sultan and his suite returned palace-wards and the door of the dome was locked. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Sultan commanded congregational prayers in all the mosques for a full told week and he ceased not to mourn and weep and wail before the cenotaph of his son for eight days. And as soon as this term was passed he commanded the Grand Wazir that vengeance be meted out for the murther of Prince Khudadad, and that the Princes be brought out from their dungeons and be done to death. The tidings were bruited about the city, and preparations were made for executing the assassins and crowds of folk collected to gaze upon the scaffold, when suddenly came a report that an enemy whom the King had routed in bygone times was marching upon the city with a conquering army. Hereat the Sultan was sore troubled and perplexed and the ministers of state said one to other, “Alas! had Prince Khudadad been on life he would forthwith have put to flight the forces of the foe however fierce and fell.” Natheless the Sovran set out from the city with his suite and host, and eke he made ready for flight to some other land by way of the river should the enemy’s force prove victorious. Then the two powers met in deadly combat; and the invader, surrounding the King of Harran’s many on every side, would have cut him to pieces with all his warriors, when behold, an armed force hitherto unseen rode athwart the plain at a pace so swift and so sure that the two hostile Kings gazed upon them in uttermost amazement, nor wist any one whence that host came. But when it drew near, the horsemen charged home on the enemies and in the twinkling of an eye put them to flight; then hotly pursuing felled them with the biting sword and the piercing spear. Seeing this onslaught the King of Harran marvelled greatly and rendering thanks to heaven said to those around him, “Learn ye the name of the Captain of yonder host, who he may be and whence came he.” But when all the foemen had fallen upon the field save only a few who escaped hither and thither and the hostile sultan who had been taken prisoner, the Captain of the friendly forces returned from pursuit well pleased to greet the King. And, lo and behold! as the twain drew near one to other the Sultan was certified that the Captain was none other than his beloved child, Khudadad, whilome lost and now found. Accordingly, he rejoiced with joy unspeakable that his enemy had thus been vanquished and that he had again looked upon his son, Khudadad, who stood before him alive and safe and sound. “O my sire,” presently exclaimed the Prince, “I am he whom thou deemest to have been slain; but Allah Almighty hath kept me on life that I might this day stand thee in good stead and destroy these thine enemies.” “O my beloved son,” replied the King, “surely I had despaired and never hoped again to see thee with these mine eyes.” So father and son dismounted and fell upon each other’s necks and quoth the Sultan, clasping the youth’s hand, “Long since have I known of thy valiant deeds, and how thou didst save thine ill-omened brothers from the hands of the man-devouring Abyssinian, and of the evil wherewith they requited thee. Go now to thy mother, of whom naught remaineth, through bitter tears for thee, save skin and bone: be thou the first to gladden her heart and give her the good tidings of this thy victory.” As they rode along, the Prince enquired of the Sultan, his sire, how he had heard tell of the Habashi and of the rescue of the Princes from the cannibal’s clutches. “Hath one of my brothers,” added he, “informed thee of this adventure?” “Not so, O my son,” replied the King, “not they, but the Princess of Daryabar told me the miserable tale thereof: she hath dwelt for many days with me and ’twas she who first and foremost demanded vengeance for thy blood.” when Khudadad heard that the Princess his spouse was his father’s guest, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and cried, “Suffer me first to see my mother;249 then will I go to the Princess of Daryabar.” The King of Harran hereat struck off the head of his chief enemy and exposed it publicly throughout the streets of his capital, and all the people exulted mightily not only at the victory but also for the return of Khudadad safe and sound; and dancing and feasting were in every household. Presently Queen Firuzah and the Princess of Daryabar presented themselves before the Sultan and offered their congratulations to him, then they went to see Khudadad both hand in hand and the three falling on one another’s necks wept for very joy. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that after this the King and his Queen and daughter-in-law sat long conversing, and they marvelled much how Khudadad, albeit he was sorely gashed and pierced with the sword, had escaped alive from that wildest of wolds, whereupon the Prince at the bidding of his sire told his tale in these words: “A peasant mounted on a camel chanced to pass by my pavilion and seeing me sore wounded and weltering in my blood, set me upon his beast and conveyed me to his house; then, choosing some roots of desert-herbs he placed them on the hurts so that they kindly healed, and I speedily recovered strength. After returning thanks to my benefactor and giving him liberal largesse, I set out for the city of Harran and on the road I saw the forces of the foe in countless numbers marching upon thy city. Wherefore I made the matter known to the folk of the townships and villages round about and besought their aid; then collecting a large force I placed myself at the head thereof, and arriving in the nick of time destroyed the invading hosts.” Hereupon the Sultan gave thanks to Allah Almighty and said, “Let all the Princes who conspired against thy life be put to death;” and sent forthright for the Sworder of his vengeance; but Khudadad made request to his sire and said, “In good sooth, O my lord the King, they all deserve the doom thou hast ordained, yet be not these my brethren and eke thine own flesh and blood? I have freely forgiven them their offence against me and I humbly pray thy pardon also, that thou grant them their lives, for that blood ever calleth unto blood.” The Sultan at length consented and forgave their offence. Then, summoning all the Ministers, he declared Khudadad his heir and successor, in presence of the Princes whom he bade bring from the prison house. Khudadad caused their chains and fetters to be stricken off and embraced them one by one, showing them the same fondness and affection as he had shown to them in the castle of the cannibal Habashi. All the folk on hearing of this noble conduct of Prince Khudadad raised shouts of applause and loved him yet more than before. The surgeon who had done such good service to the Princess of Daryabar received a robe of honour and much wealth; and on this wise that which began with mishap had issue in all happiness. When Queen Shahrazad ended this story she said to Shahryar, “O my lord, thou art doubtless astonished to find that the Caliph Harún al-Rashid changed his wrath against Ghánim250 and his mother and sister to feelings of favour and affection, but I am assured that thou wilt be the more surprised on hearing the story of the curious adventures of that same Caliph with the blind man, Bábá Abdullah.” Quoth Dunyazad, as was her way, to her sister Shahrazad, “O sister mine, what a rare and delectable tale hast thou told and now prithee favour us with another.” She replied, “It is well nigh dawn but, if my life be spared, I will tell thee as the morrow morrows a strange and wonderful history of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid.”251— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
When she began to relate the History of
232 M. Hermann Zotenberg lately informed me that “Khudadad and his Brothers” is to be found in a Turkish MS., “Al-Faraj ba’d al-Shiddah”— Joy after Annoy — in the Bibliothèque Nationale of Paris. But that work is a mere derivation from the Persian “Hazár o yek Roz” for which see my vol. x. p.441. The name Khudadad is common to most Eastern peoples, the Sansk. Devadatta, the Gr. {Greek text}, and Dorotheus; the Lat. Deodatus, the Ital. Diodato, and Span. Diosdado, the French Dieu-donné, and the Arab.-Persic Alladád, Dívdád and Khudábaksh. Khudá is the mod. Pers. form of the old Khudáí=sovereign, king, as in Máh-i-Khudáí=the sovereign moon, Kám-Khudáí=master of his passions, etc.
233 Lit. Homes (or habitations) of Bakr (see vol. v. 66), by the Turks pronounced “Diyár-i-Bekír.” It is the most famous of the four provinces into which Mesopotamia (Heb. Naharaym, Arab. Al-Jazírah) is divided by the Arabs; viz: Diyár Bakr (capital Amídah); Diyár Modhar (cap. Rakkah or Aracta); Diyár Rabí‘ah (cap. Nisibis) and Diyár al-Jazírah or Al-Jazírah (cap. Mosul). As regards the “King of Harrán,” all these ancient cities were at some time the capitals of independent chiefs who styled themselves royalties.
234 The Heb. Charran, the Carrhæ of the classics where, according to the Moslems, Abraham was born, while the Jews and Christians make him emigrate thither from “Ur (hod. Mughayr) of the Chaldees.” Hence his Arab. title “Ibrahim al-Harráni.” My late friend Dr. Beke had a marvellous theory that this venerable historic Harrán was identical with a miserable village to the east of Damascus because the Fellahs call it Harrán al-‘Awámíd — of the Columns — from some Græco-Roman remnants of a paltry provincial temple. See “Jacob’s Flight,” etc., London, Longmans, 1865.
235 Pírozah=turquoise, is the Persian, Firúzah and Firuzakh (De Sacy, Chrest. ii. 84) the Arab. forms. The stone is a favourite in the East where, as amongst the Russians (who affect to despise the Eastern origin of their blood to which they owe so much of its peculiar merit), it is supposed to act talisman against wounds and death in battle; and the Persians, who hold it to be a guard against the Evil Eye, are fond of inscribing “turquoise of the old rock” with one or more of the “Holy Names.” Of these talismans a modern Spiritualist asks, “Are rings and charms and amulets magnetic, to use an analogue for what we cannot understand, and has the immemorial belief in the power of relics a natural not to say a scientific basis?”
236 Samaria is a well-known name amongst Moslems, who call the city Shamrín and Shamrún. It was built, according to Ibn Batrik, upon Mount Samir by Amri who gave it the first name; and the Taríkh Samírí, by Aba al-Fath Abú al-Hasan, is a detailed account of its garbled annals. As Nablús (Neapolis of Herod., also called by him Sebaste) it is now familiar to the Cookite.
237 In the text Zangi-i-Adam-kh’wár afterwards called Habashi=an Abyssinian. Galland simply says un negre. In India the “Habshí” (chief) of Jinjirah (=Al-Jazirah, the Island) was admiral of the Grand Moghul’s fleets. These negroids are still dreaded by Hindús and Hindís and, when we have another “Sepoy Mutiny,” a few thousands of them bought upon the Zanzibar coast, dressed, drilled and officered by Englishmen, will do us yeomans’ service.
238 This seems to be a fancy name for a country: the term is Persian=the Oceanland or a seaport town: from “Daryá” the sea and bár=a region, tract, as in Zanzibár=Black-land. The learned Weil explains it (in loco) by Gegend der Brunnen, brunnengleicher ort, but I cannot accept Scott’s note (iv. 400), “Signifying the seacoast of every country; and hence the term is applied by Oriental geographers to the coast of Malabar.”
239 The onager, confounded by our older travellers with the zebra, is the Gúr-i-khár of Persia, where it is the noblest game from which kings did not disdain to take a cognomen, e.g., Bahrám-i-Gúr. It is the “wild ass” of Jeremiah (ii. 24: xiv. 6). The meat is famous in poetry for combining the flavours peculiar to all kinds of flesh (Ibn Khallikan iii. 117; iii. 239, etc.) and is noticed by Herodotus (Clio. cxxxiii.) and by Xenophon (Cyro. lib. 1) in sundry passages: the latter describes the relays of horses and hounds which were used in chasing it then as now. The traveller Olearius (A. D. 1637) found it more common than in our present day: Shah Abbas turned thirty-two wild asses into an enclosure where they were shot as an item of entertainment to the ambassadors at his court. The skin of the wild ass’s back produces the famous shagreen, a word seemingly derived from the Pers. “Saghrí,” e.g. “Kyafash-i-Saghri”=slippers of shagreen, fine wear fit for a “young Duke”. See in Ibn Khallikan (iv. 245) an account of a “Júr” (the Arabised “Gúr”) eight hundred years old.
240 “Dasht-i-lá-siwá-Hú"=a desert wherein is none save He (Allah), a howling wilderness.
241 Per. “Náz o andáz”=coquetry, in a half-honest sense. The Persian “Káká Siyáh,” i.e. “black brother” (a domestic negro) pronounces Nází-núzí.
242 In the text Nimak-harám: on this subject see vol. viii. 12.
243 i.e., an Arab of noble strain: see vol. iii. 72.
244 In the text “Kazzák”=Cossacks, bandits, mounted highwaymen; the word is well known in India, where it is written in two different ways, and the late Mr. John Shakespear in his excellent Dictionary need hardly have marked the origin “U” (unknown).
245 Here and below the Hindostani version mounts the lady upon a camel (“Ushtur” or “Unth”) which is not customary in India except when criminals are led about the bazar. An elephant would have been in better form.
246 The Ashrafí (Port. Xerafim) is a gold coin whose value has greatly varied with its date from four shillings upwards. In The (true) Nights we find (passim) that, according to the minting of the VIth Ommiade, ‘Abd al-Malik bin Marwán (A.H. 65-86=A.D. 685-703), the coinage of Baghdad consisted of three metals. “Ita quoque peregrina suis nummis nomina posuit, aureum Dinar denarium, argentem Dirhen (lege dirham), Drachma, æreum fols (fuls), follem appellans. * * * Nam Vera moneta aurea nomine follis lignabatur, ut æreorum sub Aarone Raschido cussorum qui hoc nomen servavit.” (O. G. Tychsen p. 8. Introduct. in Rem numariam Muhammedanorum.) For the dinar, daric or miskál see The Nights, vol i. 32; ix. 294; for the dirham, i. 33, ii. 316, etc.; and for the Fals or Fils=a fish scale, a spangle of metal, vol. i. 321. In the debased currency of the Maroccan Empire the Fals of copper or iron, a substantial coin, is worth 2,160 to the French five-franc piece.
247 In the Hindi, as in Galland’s version, the horse is naturally enough of Turcoman blood. I cannot but think that in India we have unwisely limited ourselves for cavalry remounts to the Western market that exports chiefly the mongrel “Gulf Arab” and have neglected the far hardier animal, especially the Gútdán blood of the Tartar plains, which supply “excellent horses whose speed and bottom are” say travellers in general, “so justly celebrated throughout Asia.” Our predecessors were too wise to “put all the eggs in one basket.”
248 An act of worship, see my Pilgrimage in which “Tawáf”=circuiting, is described in detail, ii. 38; iii. 2O1 et seqq. A counterpart of this scene is found in the Histoire du Sultan Aqchid (Ikhshid) who determined to witness his own funeral. Gauttier vol. i. pp. 134-139. Another and similar incident occurs in the “Nineteenth Vezir’s Story” (pp. 213-18 of the History of the Forty Vezirs, before alluded to): here Hasan of Basrah, an ‘Alim who died in A.H. 110 (=A.D. 728) saw in vision (the “drivel of dreams?") folk of all conditions, sages, warriors and moon-faced maids seeking, but in vain, to release the sweet soul of the Prince who had perished.
249 Here, after Moslem fashion, the mother ranks before the wife: “A man can have many wives but only one mother.” The idea is old amongst Easterns: see Herodotus and his Christian commentators on the history of Intaphernes’ wife (Thalia, cap. cxix). “O King,” said that lady of mind logical, “I may get me another mate if God will and other children an I lose these; but as my father and my mother are no longer alive, I may not by any means have another brother,” etc., etc.
250 In Galland the Histoire de Ganem, fils d’Abu Aïoub, surnommé l’esclave d’Amour, precedes Zayn al-Asnám. In the Arab texts Ghanim bin Ayyúb, the Thrall o’ Love, occurs much earlier: see The Nights vol. ii. 45.
It is curious to compare the conclusions of these tales with the formula of the latest specimens, the Contes Arabes Modernes of Spitta-Bey, e.g. “And the twain lived together (p. iii.) and had sons and daughters (p. ii.), cohabiting with perfect harmony (fí al-Kamál pp.42, 79); and at last they died and were buried and so endeth the story” (wa khalás p.161).
251 In Galland and his translators the Adventures of Khudadad and his Brothers is followed by the Histoire du Dormeur Eveillé which, as “The Sleeper and the Waker,” is to be found in the first of my Supplemental Volumes, pp. 1-29. After this the learned Frenchman introduced, as has been said, the Histoire de la Lampe merveilleuse or “Alaeddin” to which I have assigned, for reasons given in loco, a place before Khudadad.
I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid was one night wakeful exceedingly and when he rose in the morning restlessness gat hold of him. Wherefore all about him were troubled for that “Folk aye follow Prince’s fashion;” they rejoice exceedingly with his joy and are sorrowful with his sorrows albeit they know not the cause why they are so affected. Presently the Commander of the Faithful sent for Masrúr the Eunuch, and when he came to him cried, “Fetch me my Wazir, Ja’afar the Barmaki, without stay or delay.” Accordingly, he went out and returned with the Minister who, finding him alone, which was indeed rare, and seeing as he drew near that he was in a melancholic humour, never even raising his eyes, stopped till his lord would vouchsafe to look upon him. At last the Prince of True Believers cast his glance upon Ja’afar, but forthright turned away his head and sat motionless as before. The Wazir descrying naught in the Caliph’s aspect that concerned him personally, strengthened his purpose and bespake him on this wise, “O Commander of the Faithful, wilt thine Highness deign suffer me to ask whence cometh this sadness?” and the Caliph answered with a clearer brow, “Verily, O Wazir, these moods have of late become troublesome to me, nor are they to be moved save by hearing strange tales and verses; and, if thou come not hither on a pressing affair, thou wilt gladden me by relating somewhat to dispel my sadness.” Replied the Wazir, “O Commander of the Faithful, my office compelleth me to stand on thy service, and I would fain remind thee that this is the day appointed for informing thyself of the good governance of thy capital and its environs, and this matter shall, Inshallah, divert thy mind and dispel its gloom.” The Caliph answered, “Thou dost well to remind me, for that I had wholly forgotten it; so fare forth and change thy vestments while I do the same with mine.” Presently the twain donned habits of stranger merchants and issued out by a private postern of the palace-garden, which led them into the fields. After they had skirted the city, they reached the Euphrates’ bank at some distance from the gate opening on that side, without having observed aught of disorder; then they crossed the river in the first ferry-boat they found, and, making a second round on the further side, they passed over the bridge that joined the two halves of Baghdad-town. At the bridge-foot they met with a blind old man who asked alms of them; and the Caliph turned about and crossed his palm with a diner, whereupon the beggar caught hold of his hand, and held him fast, saying, “O beneficent man, whoso thou ever may be, whom Allah hath inspired to bestow an alms upon me, refuse not the favour I crave of thee, which is, to strike me a buffet upon the ear, for that I deserve such punishment and a greater still.” After these words he quitted his hold of the Caliph’s hand that it might smite him, yet for fear lest the stranger pass on without so doing he grasped him fast by his long robe. And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph, surprised by the blind man’s words and deeds said, “I may not grant thy request nor will I minish the merit of my charity, by treating thee as thou wouldst have me entreat thee.” Saying these words, he strove to get away from the blind man, but he who after his long experience expected this refusal of his benefactor, did his utmost to keep hold of him, and cried, “O my lord, forgive my audacity and my persistency; and I implore thee either give me a cuff on the ear, or take back thine alms, for I may not receive it save on that condition, without falsing a solemn oath I have sworn before the face of Allah; and, if thou knew the reason, thou wouldst accord with me that the penalty is light indeed.” Then the Caliph not caring to be delayed any longer, yielded to the blind man’s importunity, and gave him a slight cuff: whereupon he loosed him forthright and thanked him and blessed him. When the Caliph and his Wazir, had walked some way from the blind man, the former exclaimed, “This blind beggar must assuredly have some right good cause for behaving himself in such manner to all who give him alms, and I would fain know it. Do thou return to him and tell him who I am, and bid him fail not to appear at my palace about mid-afternoon prayer time that I may converse with him, and hear whatso he hath to say.” Hereupon Ja’afar went back and bestowed alms on the blind man giving him another cuff on the ear and apprised him of the Caliph’s command, and returned forthright to his lord. Presently, when the twain reached the town, they found in a square a vast crowd of folk gazing at a handsome youth and a well shaped, who was mounted on a mare which he rode at fullest speed round the open space, spurring and whipping the beast so cruelly that she was covered with sweat and blood. Seeing this the Caliph, amazed at the youth’s brutality, stopped to ask the by-standers an they knew why he tortured and tormented the mare on such wise; but he could learn naught save that for some while past, every day at the same time, he had entreated her after the same fashion. Hereat as they walked along, the Caliph bid his Wazir especially notice the place and order the young man to come without failing on the next day, at the hour appointed for the blind man. But ere the Caliph reached his palace, he saw in a street, which he had not passed through for many months, a newly built mansion, which seemed to him the palace of some great lord of the land. He asked the Wazir, an he knew its owner; and Ja’afar answered he did not but would make inquiry. So he consulted a neighbour who told him that the house owner was one Khwájah Hasan surnamed Al-Habbál from his handicraft, rope-making; that he himself had seen the man at work in the days of his poverty, that he knew not how Fate and Fortune had befriended him, yet that the same Khwajah had gotten such exceeding wealth that he had been enabled to pay honourably and sumptuously all the expenses he had incurred when building his palace. Then the Wazir, returned to the Caliph, and gave him a full account of whatso he had heard, whereat cried the Prince of True Believers, “I must see this Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal: do thou therefore, O Wazir, go and tell him to come to my palace, at the same hour thou hast appointed for the other twain.” The Minister did his lord’s bidding and the next day, after mid-afternoon prayers, the Caliph retired to his own apartment and Ja’afar introduced the three persons whereof we have been speaking and presented them to the Caliph. All prostrated themselves at his feet and when they rose up, the Commander of the Faithful asked his name of the blind man, who answered he was hight Baba Abdullah. “O Servant of Allah,” cried the Caliph, “thy manner of asking alms yesterday seemed so strange to me that, had it not been for certain considerations I should not have granted thy petition; nay, I would have prevented thy giving further offence to the folk. And now I have bidden thee hither that I may know from thyself what impelled thee to swear that rash oath whereof thou toldest me, that I may better judge whether thou have done well or ill, and if I should suffer thee to persist in a practice which meseemeth must set so pernicious an example. Tell me openly how such mad thought entered into thy head, and conceal not aught, for I will know the truth and the full truth."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba Abdullah terrified by these words, cast himself a second time at the Caliph’s feet with his face prone to the ground, and when he rose again, said, “O Commander of the Faithful, I crave pardon of thy Highness for my audacity, in that I dared require, and well nigh compelled thee to do a thing which verily seemeth contrary to sound sense. I acknowledge mine offence; but as I knew not thy Highness at that time, I implore thy clemency, and I pray thou wilt consider my ignorance of thine exalted degree. And now as to the extravagance of my action, I readily admit that it must be strange to the sons of Adam; but in the eye of Allah ’tis but a slight penance wherewith I have charged myself for an enormous crime of which I am guilty, and wherefor, an all the people in the world were each and every to give me a cuff on the ear ’twould not be sufficient atonement. Thy Highness shall judge of it thyself, when I, in telling my tale according to thy commandment, will inform thee of what was my offence.” And here he began to relate
O my lord the Caliph, I, the humblest of thy slaves, was born in Baghdad, where my father and mother, presently dying within a few days of each other, left me a fortune large enough to last me throughout my lifetime. But I knew not its value and soon I had squandered it in luxury and loose living and I cared naught for thrift or for increasing my store. But when little was left to me of my substance, I repented of my evil courses and toiled and laboured hard by day and night to increase my remaining stock of money. It is truly said, “After waste cometh knowledge of worth.” Thus little by little I got together fourscore camels, which I let on hire to merchants, and thus I made goodly gain each time I found occasion: moreover I was wont to engage myself together with my beasts and on this wise I journeyed over all the dominions and domains of thy Highness. Brief, I hoped ere long to reap an abundant crop of gold by the hiring out of my baggage animals. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she: I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba Abdullah continued his tale in these words: Once I had carried merchants’ stuffs to Bassorah for shipping India-wards and I was returning to Baghdad with my beasts unladen. Now as I fared homewards I chanced pass across a plain of excellent pasturage lying fallow and far from any village, and there unsaddled the camels which I hobbled and tethered together that they might crop the luxuriant herbs and thorns and yet not fare astray. Presently appeared a Darwaysh who was travelling afoot for Bassorah, and he took seat beside me to enjoy ease after unease; whereat I asked him whence he wayfared and whither he was wending. He also asked me the same question and when we had told each to other our own tales, we produced our provisions and brake our fast together, talking of various matters as we ate. Quoth the Darwaysh, “I know a spot hard by which enholdeth a hoard and its wealth is so wonder-great that shouldst thou load upon thy fourscore camels the heaviest burthens of golden coins and costly gems from that treasure there will appear no minishing thereof.” Hearing these words I rejoiced with exceeding joy and gathering from his mien and demeanour that he did not deceive me, I arose forthright and falling upon his neck, exclaimed, “O Hallow of Allah, who caress naught for this world’s goods and hast renounced all mundane lusts and luxuries, assuredly thou hast full knowledge of this treasure, for naught remaineth hidden from holy men as thou art. I pray thee tell me where it may be found that I may load my fourscore beasts with bales of Ashrafis and jewels: I wot full well that thou hast no greed for the wealth of this world, but take, I pray thee, one of these my fourscore camels as recompense and reward for the favour.” Thus spake I with my tongue but in my heart I sorely grieved to think that I must part with a single camel-load of coins and gems; withal I reflected that the other three-score and nineteen camel-loads would contain riches to my heart’s content. Accordingly, as I wavered in mind, at one moment consenting and at the next instant repenting, the Darwaysh noting my greed and covetise and avarice, replied, “Not so, O my brother: one camel doth not suffice me that I should shew thee all this hoard. On a single condition only will I tell thee of the place; to wit, that we twain lead the animals thither and lade them with the treasure, then shalt thou give me one half thereof and take the other half to thyself. With forty camels’ load of costly ores and minerals forsure thou canst buy thousands more of camels.” Then, seeing that refusal was impossible, I cried “So be it! I agree to thy proposal and I will do as thou desires”;” for in my heart I had conned the matter over and well I wist that forty camel-loads of gold and gems would suffice me and many generations of my descendants; and I feared lest an I gain say him I should repent for ever and ever having let so great a treasure slip out of hand. Accordingly, giving full consent to all be said, I got together every one of my beasts and set me a-wayfaring along with the Fakír.253 After travelling over some short distance we came upon a gorge between two craggy mountain-walls towering high in crescent form and the pass was exceeding narrow so that the animals were forced to pace in single file, but further on it flared out and we could thread it without difficulty into the broad Wady below. No human being was anywhere to be seen or heard in this wild land, so we were undisturbed and easy in our minds nor feared aught. Then quoth the Darwaysh, “Leave here the camels and come with me."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the blind man Baba Abdullah pursued his tale on this wise:— I did as the Darwaysh had bidden me; and, nakhing254 all the camels, I followed in wake of him. After walking a short way from the halting-place he produced a flint and steel and struck fire therewith and lit some sticks he had gotten together; then, throwing a handful of strong-smelling incense upon the flames, he muttered words of incantation which I could by no means understand. At once a cloud of smoke arose, and spireing upwards veiled the mountains; and presently, the vapour clearing away, we saw a huge rock with pathway leading to its perpendicular face. Here the precipice showed an open door, wherethrough appeared in the bowels of the mountain a splendid palace, the workmanship of the Jinns, for no man had power to build aught like it. In due time, after sore toil, we entered therein and found an endless treasure, ranged in mounds with the utmost ordinance and regularity. Seeing a heap of Ashrafis I pounced upon it as a vulture swoopeth upon her quarry, the carrion, and fell to filling the sacks with golden coin to my heart’s content. The bags were big, but I was constrained to stuff them only in proportion to the strength of my beasts. The Darwaysh, too, busied himself in like manner, but he charged his sacks with gems and jewels only, counselling me the while to do as he did. So I cast aside the ducats and filled my bags with naught save the most precious of the stonery. When we had wrought our best, we set the well-stuffed sacks upon the camels’ backs and we made ready to depart; but, before we left the treasure-house wherein stood ranged thousands of golden vessels, exquisite in shape and workmanship, the Darwaysh went into a hidden chamber and brought from out a silvern casket a little golden box full of some unguent, which he showed to me, and then he placed it in his pocket. Presently, he again threw incense upon the fire and recited his incantations and conjurations, whereat the door closed and the rock became as before. We then divided the camels, he taking one half and I the other; and, passing through the strait and gloomy gorge in single file, we came out upon the open plain. Here our way parted, he wending in the direction of Bassorah and I Baghdad-wards; and when about to leave him I showered thanks upon the Darwaysh who had obtained me all this wealth and riches worth a thousand thousand of gold coins; and farewelled him with deep emotions of gratitude; after which we embraced and wended our several ways. But hardly had I bidden adieu to the Fakir and had gone some little distance from him with my file of camels than the Shaytan tempted me with greed of gain so that I said to myself, “The Darwaysh is alone in the world, without friends or kinsman, and is wholly estranged from matters mundane. What will these camel-loads of filthy lucre advantage him? Moreover, engrossed by the care of the camels, not to speak of the deceitfulness of riches, he may neglect his prayer and worship: therefore it behoveth me to take back from him some few of my beasts.” With this resolve I made the camels halt and tying up their forelegs ran back after the holy man and called out his name. He heard my loud shouts and awaited me forthright; and, as soon as I approached him I said, “When I had quitted thee a thought came into my mind; to wit, that thou art a recluse who keepest thyself aloof from earthly things, pure in heart and busied only with orison and devotion Now care of all these camels will cause thee only toil and moil and trouble and waste of precious time: ’twere better then to give them back and not run the risk of these discomforts and dangers. The Darwaysh replied, “O my son, thou speakest sooth. The tending of all these animals will bring me naught save ache of head, so do thou take of them as many as thou listest. I thought not of the burthen and posher till thou drewest my attention thereto; but now I am forewarned thereof; so may Almighty Allah keep thee in His holy keeping!” Accordingly, I took ten camels of him and was about to gang my gait when suddenly it struck me, “This Fakir was unconcerned at giving up ten camels, so ’twere better I ask more of him.” Thereupon I drew nearer to him and said, “Thou canst hardly manage thirty camels; do give me, I pray thee, other ten.” Said he, “O my son, do whatso thou wishest! Take thee other ten camels; twenty will suffice me.” I did his bidding and driving off the twenty added them to my forty. Then the spirit of concupiscence possessed me, and I bethought me more and more to get yet other ten camels from his share; so I retraced my steps for the third time and asked him for another ten, and of these, as also the remaining ten, I wheedled him. The Darwaysh gladly gave up the last of his camels, and, shaking out his skirts,255 made ready to depart; but still my accursed greed stuck to me. Albeit I had got the fourscore beasts laden with Ashrafis and jewels, and I might have gone home happy and content, with wealth for fourscore generations, Satan tempted me still more, and urged me also to take the box of ointment, which I supposed to contain something more precious than rubies. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba Abdullah continued his tale in these words:— So when I had again farewelled and embraced him I paused awhile and said, “What wilt thou do with the little box of salve thou hast taken to thy portion? I pray thee give me that also.” The Fakir would by no means part with it, whereupon I lusted the more to possess it, and resolved in my mind that, should the holy man give it up of his free will, then well and good, but if not I would force it from him. Seeing my intent he drew the box from out his breast-pocket256 and handed it to me saying, “O my son, an thou wouldst have this box of ointment, then freely do I give it to thee; but first it behoveth thee to learn the virtue of the unguent it containeth.” Hearing these words I said, “Forasmuch as thou hast shown me all this favour, I beseech thee tell me of this ointment and what of properties it possesseth.” Quoth he, “The wonders of this ointment are passing strange and rare. An thou close thy left eye and rub upon the lid the smallest bit of the salve then all the treasures of the world now concealed from thy gaze will come to sight; but an thou rub aught thereof upon thy right eye thou shalt straightway become stone blind of both.” Thereat I bethought me of putting this wondrous unguent to the test and placing in his hand the box I said, “I see thou understandest this matter right well; so now I pray thee apply somewhat of the ointment with thine own hand to my left eyelid.” The Darwaysh thereupon closed my left eye and with his finger rubbed a little of the unguent over the lid; and when I opened it and looked around I saw the hidden hoards of the earth in countless quantities even as the Fakir had told me I should see them. Then closing my right eyelid, I bade him apply some of the salve to that eye also. Said he, “O my son, I have forewarned thee that if I rub it upon thy right eyelid thou shalt become stone blind of both. Put far from thee this foolish thought: why shouldst thou bring this evil to no purpose on thyself?” He spake sooth indeed, but by reason of my accursed ill-fate I would not heed his words and considered in my mind, “If applying the salve to the left eyelid hath produced such effect, assuredly far more wondrous still shall be the result when rubbed on the right eye. This fellow doth play me false and keepeth back from me the truth of the matter.” When I had thus determined in my mind I laughed and said to the holy man, “Thou art deceiving me to the intent that I should not advantage myself by the secret, for that rubbing the unguent upon the right eyelid hath some greater virtue than applying it to the left eye, and thou wouldst withhold the matter from me. It can never be that the same ointment hath qualities so contrary and virtues so diverse.” Replied the other, “Allah Almighty is my witness that the marvels of the ointment be none other save these whereof I bespake thee; O dear my friend, have faith in me, for naught hath been told thee save what is sober sooth.” Still would I not believe his words, thinking that he dissembled with me and kept secret from me the main virtue of the unguent. Wherefore filled with this foolish thought I pressed him sore and begged that he rub the ointment upon my right eyelid; but he still refused and said, “Thou seest how much of favour I have shown to thee: wherefore should I now do thee so dire an evil? Know for a surety that it would bring thee lifelong grief and misery; and I beseech thee, by Allah the Almighty, abandon this thy purpose and believe my words.” But the more he refused so much the more did I persist; and in fine I made oath and sware by Allah, saying, “O Darwaysh, what things soever I have asked of thee thou gayest freely unto me and now remaineth only this request for me to make. Allah upon thee, gainsay me not and grant me this last of thy boons: and whatever shall betide me I will not hold thee responsible therefor. Let Destiny decide for good or for evil.” When the holy man saw that his denial was of no avail and that I irked him with exceeding persistence, he put the smallest bit of ointment on my right lid and, as I opened wide my eyes, lo and behold! both were stone-blind: naught could I see for the black darkness before them and ever since that day have I been sightless and helpless as thou foundest me. When I knew that I was blinded, I exclaimed, “O Darwaysh of ill-omen, what thou didst fore tell hath come to pass;” and I fell to cursing him and saying “O would to Heaven thou hadst never brought me to the hoard or hadst given me such wealth. What now avail me all this gold and jewels? Take back thy forty camels and make me whole again.” Replied he, “What evil have I done to thee? I showed thee favours more than any man hath ever dealt to another. Thou wouldst not heed my rede, but didst harden thy heart and lustedst to obtain this wealth and to pry into the hidden treasures of the earth. Thou wouldst not be content with what thou hadst and thou didst misdoubt my words thinking that I would play thee false. Thy case is beyond all hope, for never more wilt thou regain thy sight; no, never. Then said I with tears and lamentations, “O Fakir, take back thy fourscore camels laden with gold and precious stones and wend thy way: I absolve thee from all blame, natheless I beseech thee by Allah Almighty to restore my sight an thou art able.” He answered not a word, but leaving me in miserable plight presently took the load to Bassorah, driving before him the fourscore camels laden with wealth. I cried aloud and besought him to lead me with him away from the life destroying wilderness, or to put me on the path of some caravan, but he regarded not my cries and abandoned me there. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba Abdullah the blind man resumed his story, saying:— So when the Darwaysh departed from me, I had well nigh died of grief and wrath at the loss of my sight and of my riches, and from the pangs of thirst257 and hunger. Next day by good fortune a caravan from Bassorah passed that way; and, seeing me in such a grievous condition, the merchants had compassion on me and made me travel with them to Baghdad. Naught could I do save beg my bread in order to keep myself alive; so I became a mendicant and made this vow to Allah Almighty that, as a punishment for this my unlucky greed and cursed covetise, I would require a cuff upon my ear from everyone who might take pity on my case and give an alms. On this wise it was that yesterday I pursued thee with such pertinacity. — When the blind man made an end of his story the Caliph said, “O Baba Abdullah! thine offence was grievous; may Allah have mercy on thee therefor. It now remaineth to thee to tell thy case to devotees and anchorites that they may offer up their potent prayers in thy behalf. Take no thought for thy daily wants: I have determined that for thy living thou shalt have a dole of four dirhams a day from my royal treasury according to thy need as long as thou mayest live. But see that thou go no more to ask for alms about my city.” So Baba Abdullah returned thanks to the Prince of True Believers, saying, “I will do according to thy bidding.” Now when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid had heard the story of Baba Abdullah and the Darwaysh, he turned to and addressed the young man whom he had seen riding at fullest speed upon the mare and savagely lashing and ill-treating her. “What is thy name?” quoth he, and quoth the youth, bowing his brow groundwards, “My name, O Commander of the Faithful, is Sídí Nu’umán.”258 Then said the Caliph, “Hearken now, O Sidi Nu’uman! Ofttimes have I watched the horsemen exercise their horses, and I myself have often done likewise, but never saw I any who rode so mercilessly as thou didst ride thy mare, for thou didst ply both whip and shovel-iron in cruellest fashion. The folk all stood to gaze with wonderment, but chiefly I, who was constrained against my wish to stop and ask the cause of the bystanders. None, however, could make clear the matter, and all men said that thou art wont each day to ride the mare in this most brutal fashion, whereat my mind marvelled all the more. I now would ask of thee the cause of this thy ruthless savagery, and see that thou tell me every whit and leave not aught unsaid.” Sidi Nu’uman, hearing the order of the Commander of the Faithful, became aware he was fully bent upon hearing the whole matter and would on no wise suffer him to depart until all was explained. So the colour of his countenance changed and he stood speechless like a statue through fear and trepidation; whereat said the Prince of True Believers, “O Sidi Nu’uman, fear naught but tell me all thy tale. Regard me in the light of one of thy friends and speak without reserve, and explain to me the matter fully as thou wouldst do hadst thou been speaking to thy familiars. Moreover, an thou art afraid of any matter which thou shalt confide to me and if thou dread my indignation, I grant thee immunity and a free pardon.” At these comforting words of the Caliph, Sidi Nu’uman took courage, and with clasped hands replied, “I trust I have not in this matter done aught contrary to thy Highness’s law and custom, and therefore will I willingly obey thy bidding and relate to thee all my tale. If I have offended in anything then am I worthy of thy punishment. ’Tis true that I have daily exercised the mare and ridden her at speed around the hippodrome as thou sawest me do; and I lashed and gored her with all my might. Thou hadst compassion on the mare and didst deem me cruel hearted to entreat her thus, but when thou shalt have heard all my adventure thou wilt admit, Inshallah — God willing — that this be only a trifling penalty for her offence, and that not she but I deserve thy pity and pardon! With thy permission I will now begin my story."-And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she: I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid accorded the youth permission to speak and that the rider of the mare began in these words the
252 i.e. Daddy Abdullah, the former is used in Pers., Turk. and Hindostani for dad! dear! child! and for the latter, see vol. v. 141.
253 Here the Arab. syn. of the Pers. “Darwaysh,” which Egyptians pronounce “Darwísh.” In the Nile-valley the once revered title has been debased to an insult = “poor devil” (see Pigrimage i., pp. 20-22); “Fakír” also has come to signify a Koran-chaunter.
254 To “Nakh” is to make the camel kneel. See vo!. ii. 139, and its references.
255 As a sign that he parted willingly with all his possessions.
256 Arab. “‘Ubb” prop.=the bulge between the breast and the outer robe which is girdled round the waist to make a pouch. See vol. viii. 205.
257 Thirst very justly takes precedence of hunger: a man may fast for forty days, but with out water in a tropical country he would die within a week. For a description of the horrors of thirst see my “First Footsteps in East Africa,” pp. 387-8.
258 In Galland it is Sidi Nouman; in many English translations, as in the “Lucknow” (Newul Kishore Press, 1880), it has become “Sidi Nonman.” The word has occurred in King Omar bin al-Nu’uman, vol. ii. 77 and 325, and vol. v. 74. For Sídí = my lord, see vol. v. 283; Byron, in The Corsair, ii. 2, seems to mistake it for “Sayyid.”
High in his hall reclines the turban’d Seyd,
Around — the bearded chiefs he came to lead.
O Lord of beneficence and benevolence, my parents were possessed of wealth and riches sufficient to provide their son when they died with ample means for a life long livelihood so that he might pass his days like a Grandee of the land in ease and joyance and delight. I— their only child — had nor care nor trouble about any matter until one day of the days, when in the prime of manhood, I was a minded to take unto me a wife, a woman winsome and comely to look upon, that we might live together in mutual love and double blessedness. But Allah Almighty willed not that a model helpmate become mine; nay, Destiny wedded me to grief and the direst misery. I married a maid who in outward form and features was a model of beauty and loveliness without, however, one single gracious gift of mind or soul; and on the very second day after the wedding her evil nature began to manifest itself. Thou art well aware, O Prince of True Believers, that by Moslem custom none may look upon the face of his betrothed before the marriage contract? nor after wedlock can he complain should his bride prove a shrew or a fright: he must needs dwell with her in such content as he may and be thankful for his fate, be it fair or unfair. When I saw first the face of my bride and learnt that it was passing comely, I joyed with exceeding joy and gave thanks to Almighty Allah that He had bestowed on me so charming a mate. That night I slept with her in joy and love-delight; but next day when the noon meal was spread for me and her I found her not at table and sent to summon her; and after some delay, she came and sat her down. I dissembled my annoyance and forbore for this late coming to find fault with her which I soon had ample reason to do. It so happened that amongst the many dishes which were served up to us was a fine pilaff,259 of which I, according to the custom in our city, began to eat with a spoon; but she, in lieu of it pulled out an ear pick from her pocket and therewith fell to picking up the rice and ate it grain by grain. Seeing this strange conduct I was sore amazed and fuming inwardly said in sweet tones, “O my Aminah,260 what be this way of eating? hast thou learnt it of thy people or art thou counting grains of rice purposing to make a hearty meal here after? Thou hast eaten but ten or twenty during all this time. Or haply thou art practicing thrift: if so I would have thee know that Allah Almighty hath given me abundant store and fear not on that account; but do thou, O my dearling, as all do and eat as thou seest thy husband eat.” I fondly thought that she would assuredly vouchsafe some words of thanks, but never a syllable spake she and ceased not picking up grain after grain: nay more, in order to provoke me to greater displeasure, she paused for a long time between each. Now when the next course of cakes came on she idly brake some bread and tossed a crumb or two into her mouth; in fact she ate less than would satisfy the stomach of a sparrow. I marvelled much to see her so obstinate and self-willed but I said to myself, in mine innocence, “May be she hath not been accustomed to eat with men, and especially she may be too shame faced to eat heartily in presence of her husband: she will in time do whatso do other folk.” I thought also that perchance she hath already broken her fast and lost appetite, or haply it hath been her habit to eat alone. So I said nothing and after dinner went out to smell the air and play the Jaríd261 and thought no more of the matter. When, however, we two sat again at meat my bride ate after the same fashion as before; nay, she would ever persist in her perversity; whereat I was sore troubled in mind, and marvelled how without food she kept herself alive. One night it chanced that deeming me fast asleep she rose up in stealth from my side, I being wide awake: when I saw her step cautiously from the bed as one fearing lest she might disturb me. I wondered with exceeding wonder why she should arise from sleep to leave me thus and methought I would look into the matter. Wherefore I still feigned sleep and snored but watched her as I lay, and presently saw her dress herself and leave the room; I then sprang off the bed and throwing on my robe and slinging my sword across my shoulder looked out of the window to spy whither she went. Presently she crossed the courtyard and opening the street-door fared forth; and I also ran out through the entrance which she had left unlocked; then followed her by the light of the moon until she entered a cemetery hard by our home. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi Nu’uman continued his story saying:— But when I beheld Aminah my bride enter the cemetery, I stood without and close to the wall over which I peered so that I could espy her well but she could not discover me. Then what did I behold but Aminah sitting with a Ghul!262 Thy Highness wotteth well that Ghuls be of the race of devils; to wit, they are unclean spirits which inhabit ruins and which terrify solitary wayfarers and at times seizing them feed upon their flesh; and if by day they find not any traveller to eat they go by night to the graveyards and dig out and devour dead bodies. So I was sore amazed and terrified to see my wife thus seated with a Ghul. Then the twain dug up from the grave a corpse which had been newly buried, and the Ghul and my wife Aminah tore off pieces of the flesh which she ate making merry the while and chatting with her companion but inasmuch as I stood at some distance I could not hear what it was they said. At this sight I trembled with exceeding fear. And when they had made an end of eating they cast the bones into the pit and thereover heaped up the earth e’en as it was before. Leaving them thus engaged in their foul and fulsome work, I hastened home; and, allowing the street-door to remain half-open as my bride had done, I reached my room, and throwing myself upon our bed feigned sleep. Presently Aminah came and doffing her dress calmly lay beside me, and I knew by her manner that she had not seen me at all, nor guessed that I had followed her to the cemetery. This gave me great relief of mind, withal I loathed to bed beside a cannibal and a corpse-eater; howbeit I lay still despite extreme misliking till the Muezzin’s call for dawn-prayers, when getting up I busied myself with the Wuzú-ablution and set forth mosque-wards. Then having said my prayers and fulfilled my ceremonial duties,263 I strolled about the gardens, and during this walk having turned over the matter in my mind, determined that it behoved me to remove my bride from such ill companionship, and wean her from the habit of devouring dead bodies. With these thoughts I came back home at dinner-time, when Aminah on seeing me return bade the servants serve up the noontide meal and we twain sat at table; but as before she fell to picking up the rice grain by grain. Thereat said I to her, “O my wife, it irketh me much to see thee picking up each grain of rice like a hen. If this dish suit not thy taste see there are, by Allah’s grace and the Almighty’s favour, all kinds of meats before us. Do thou eat of that which pleaseth thee most; each day the table is bespread with dishes of different kinds and if these please thee not, thou hast only to order whatsoever food thy soul desireth. Yet I would ask of thee one question: Is there no meat upon the table as rich and toothsome as man’s flesh, that thou refuseth every dish they set before thee?” Ere I had finished speaking my wife became assured that I was aware of her night adventure: she suddenly waxed wroth with exceeding wrath, her face flushed red as fire, her eyeballs started out from their sockets and she foamed at the mouth with ungovernable fury. Seeing her in this mood I was terrified and my sense and reason fled by reason of my affright; but presently in the madness of her passion she took up a tasse of water which stood beside her and dipping her fingers in the contents muttered some words which I could not understand; then sprinkling some drops over me, cried, Accursed that thou art! for this thine insolence and betrayal do thou be straightway turned into a dog.” At once I became transmewed and she, picking up a staff began to ribroast me right mercilessly and well nigh killed me. I ran about from room to room but she pursued me with the stick, and tunded and belaboured me with might and main, till she was clean exhausted. She then threw the street-door half open and, as I made for it to save my life, attempted violently to close it, so as to squeeze my soul out of my body; but I saw her design and baffled it, leaving behind me, however, the tip of my tail; and piteously yelping hereat I escaped further basting and thought myself lucky to get away from her without broken bones. When I stood in the street still whining and ailing, the dogs of the quarter seeing a stranger, at once came rushing at me barking and biting;264 and I with tail between my legs tore along the market place and ran into the shop of one who sold sheeps’ and goats’ heads and trotters; and there crouching low hid me in a dark corner. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi Nu’uman continued his story as follows — The shopkeeper, despite his scruples of conscience, which caused him to hold all dogs impure,265 hath ruth upon my sorry plight and drove away the yelling and grinning curs that would have followed me into his shop; and I, escaping this danger of doom, passed all the night hid in my corner. Early next morning the butcher sallied forth to buy his usual wares, sheeps’ heads and hooves, and, coming back with a large supply, he began to lay them out for sale within the shop, when I, seeing that a whole pack of dogs had gathered about the place attracted by the smell of flesh, also joined them. The owner noticed me among the ragged tykes and said to himself, “This dog hath tasted naught since yesterday when it ran yelping hungrily and hid within my shop.” He then threw me a fair sized piece of meat, but I refused it and went up to him and wagged my tail to the end that he might know my wish to stay with him and be protected by his stall: he, however, thought that I had eaten my sufficiency, and, picking up a staff frightened me away. So when I saw how the butcher heeded not my case, I trotted off and wandering to and fro presently came to a bakery and stood before the door wherethrough I espied the baker at breakfast. Albeit I made no sign as though I wanted aught of food, he threw me a bittock of bread; and I, in lieu of snapping it up and greedily swallowing it, as is the fashion with all dogs the gentle and simple of them, approached him with it and gazed in his face and wagged my tail by way of thanks. He was pleased by this my well bred behaviour and smiled at me; whereat I albeit not one whit anhungered, but merely to humour him, fell to eating the bread, little by little and leisurely, to testify my respect. He was yet more satisfied with my manners and wished to keep me in his shop; and I, noting his intent, sat by the door and looked wistfully at him, whereby he knew that I desired naught of him save his protection. He then caressed me and took charge of me and kept me to guard his store, but I would not enter his house till after he had led the way; he also showed me where to lie o’nights and fed me well at every meal and entreated me right hospitably. I likewise would watch his every movement and always lay down or rose up even as he bade me; and whenas he left his lodging or walked anywhither he took me with him. If ever when I lay asleep he went outside and found me not, he would stand still in the street and call to me crying, “Bakht!’ Bakht!”266 an auspicious name he had given to me; and straightway on hearing him I would rush about and frisk before the door; and when he set out to taste the air I paced beside him now running on ahead, now following at his heels and ever and anon looking up in his face. Thus some time passed during which I lived with him in all comfort; till one day of the days it so chanced that a woman came to the bakery to buy her bread and gave the owner several dirhams to its price, whereof one was bad coin whilst the others were good. My master tested all the silvers and, finding out the false bit, returned it demanding a true dirham in exchange; but the woman wrangled and would not take it back and swore that it was sound. Quoth the baker, “The dirham is beyond all doubt a worthless: see yonder dog of mine, he is but a beast, yet mark me he will tell thee whether it be true or false silver.” So he called me by my name, “Bakht! Bakht!” whereat I sprang up and ran towards him and he, throwing all the moneys upon the ground before me, cried, “Here, look these dirhams over and if there be a false coin among them separate it from all the others.” I inspected the silvers each by each and found the counterfeit: then, putting it on one side and all the others on another, I placed my paw upon the false silver and wagging what remained of my tail looked up at my master’s face. The baker was delighted with my sagacity, and the woman also, marvelling with excessive marvel at what had happened, took back her bad dirham and paid another in exchange. But when the buyer fared forth, my master called together his neighbours and gossips and related to them this matter; so they threw down on the ground before me coins both good and bad, in order that they might test me and see with their own eyes an I were as clever as my master had said I was. Many times in succession I picked out the false coins from amongst the true and placed my paw upon them without once failing; so all went away astounded and related the case to each and every one they saw and thus the bruit of me spread abroad throughout the city. That live long day I spent in testing dirhams fair and foul. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi Nu’uman continued his story saying:— From that day forwards the baker honoured me yet more highly, and all his friends and familiars laughed and said, “Forsooth thou hast in this dog a mighty good Shroff.”267 And some envied my master his luck in having me within the shop, and tried ofttimes to entice me away, but the baker kept me with him nor would he ever allow me to leave his side; for the fame of me brought him a host of customers from every quarter of the town even the farthest. Not many days after there came another woman to buy loaves at our shop and paid the baker six dirhams whereof one was worthless. My master passed them over to me for test and trial, and straightway I picked out the false one, and placing paw thereon looked up in the woman’s face. Hereat she waxed confused and confessed that it was miscoined and praised me for that I had found it out; then, going forth the same woman made signs to me that I should follow her unbeknown to the baker. Now I had not ceased praying Allah that somehow He would restore me to my human form and hoped that some good follower of the Almighty would take note of this my sorry condition and vouchsafe me succour. So as the woman turned several times and looked at me, I was persuaded in my mind that she had knowledge of my case; I therefore kept my eyes upon her; which seeing she came back ere she had stepped many paces, and beckoned me to accompany her. I understood her signal and sneaking out of the presence of the baker, who was busy heating his oven, followed in her wake. Pleased beyond all measure to see me obey her, she went straight way home with me, and entering she locked the door and led me into a room where sat a fair maid in embroidered dress whom I judged by her favour to be the good woman’s daughter. The damsel was well skilled in arts magical; so the mother said to her, “O my daughter, here is a dog which telleth bad dirhams from good dirhams. When first I heard the marvel I bethought me that the beastie must be a man whom some base wretch and cruel hearted had turned into a dog. Methought that to day I would see this animal and test it when buying loaves at the booth of yonder baker and behold, it hath acquitted itself after the fairest of fashions and hath stood the test and trial. Look well, O my daughter, at this dog and see whether it be indeed an animal or a man transformed into a beast by gramarye.” The young lady, who had veiled her face,268 hereupon considered me attentively and presently cried, “O my mother, ’tis even as thou sayest, and this I will prove to thee forthright.” Then rising from her seat she took a basin of water and dipping hand therein sprinkled some drops upon me saying, “An thou wert born a dog then do thou abide a dog, but an thou wert born a man then, by virtue of this water, resume thine human favour and figure.” Immediately I was transformed from the shape of a dog to human semblance and I fell at the maiden’s feet and kissed the ground before her giving her thanks; then, bussing the hem of her garment, I cried, “O my lady, thou hast been exceeding gracious unto one unbeknown to thee and a stranger. How can I find words wherewith to thank thee and bless thee as thou deserves”? Tell me now, I pray thee, how and whereby I may shew my gratitude to thee? From this day forth I am beholden to thy kindness and am become thy slave.” Then I related all my case and told her of Aminah’s wickedness and what of wrongs she had wrought me; and I made due acknowledgment to her mother for that she had brought me to her home. Herewith quoth the damsel to me, “O Sidi Nu’uman, I pray thee bestow not such exceeding thanks upon me, for rather am I glad and grateful in conferring this service upon one so well-deserving as thou art. I have been familiar with thy wife Aminah for a long time before thou didst marry her; I also knew that she had skill in witchcraft and she likewise knoweth of my art, for we twain learnt together of one and the same mistress in the science. We met ofttimes at the Hammam as friends but, in asmuch as she was ill-mannered and ill-tempered, I declined further intimacy with her. Think not that it sufficeth me to have made thee recover thy form as it was aforetime; nay, verily needs must I take due vengeance of her for the wrong she hath done thee. And this will I do at thy hand, so shalt thou have mastery over her and find thyself lord of thine own house and home.269 Tarry here awhile until I come again.” So saying the damsel passed into another room and I remained sitting and talking with her mother and praised her excellence and kindness towards me. The ancient dame also related strange and rare deeds of wonder done by her with pure purpose and lawful means, till the girl returned with an ewer in hand and said, “O Sidi Nu’uman, my magical art doth tell me that Aminah is at this present away from home but she will return thither presently. Meanwhile she dissembleth with the domestics and feigneth grief at severance from thee; and she hath pretended that, as thou sattest at meat with her, thou didst suddenly arise and fare forth on some weighty matter, when presently a dog rushed through the open door into the room and she drove it away with a staff.” Then giving me a gugglet full of the water the maiden resumed, “O Sidi Nu’uman, go now to thine own house and, keeping this gugglet by thee, await patiently Aminah’s coming. Anon she will return and seeing thee will be sore perplexed and will hasten to escape from thee; but before she go forth sprinkle some drops from this gugglet upon her and recite these spells which I shall teach thee. I need not tell thee more; thou wilt espy with thine own eyes what shall happen.” Having said these words the young lady taught me magical phrases which I fixed in my memory full firmly, and after this I took my leave and farewelled them both. When I reached home it happened even as the young magician had told me; and I had tarried but a short time in the house when Aminah came in. I held the gugglet in hand and she seeing me trembled with sore trembling and would fain have run away; but I hastily sprinkled some drops upon her and repeated the magical words, whereat she was turned into a mare — the animal thy Highness deigned remark but yesterday. I marvelled greatly to sight this transformation and seizing the mare’s mane led her to the stable and secured her with a halter. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi Nu’uman continued his story saying:— When I had secured the mare, I loaded her with reproaches for her wickedness and her base behaviour, and lashed her with a whip till my forearm was tired.270 Then I resolved within myself that I would ride her at full speed round the square each day and thus inflict upon her the justest penalty. — Herewith Sidi Nu’uman held his peace, having made an end of telling his tale; but presently he resumed, “O Commander of the Faithful, I trow thou art not displeased at this my conduct, nay rather thou wouldst punish such a woman with a punishment still greater than this.” He then kissed the hem of the Caliph’s robe and kept silence; and Harun al-Rashid, perceiving that he had said all his say, exclaimed, “In very sooth thy story is exceeding strange and rare. The wrong doing of thy wife hath no excuse and thy requital is methinks in due measure and just degree, but I would ask thee one thing — How long wilt thou chastise her thus, and how long will she remain in bestial guise? ’Twere better now for thee to seek the young lady by whose magical skill thy wife was transformed and beg that she bring her back to human shape. And yet I fear me greatly lest perchance whenas this sorceress, this Ghulah, shall find herself restored to woman’s form and resumeth her conjurations and incantations she may — who knoweth?. — requite thee with far greater wrong than she hath done thee heretofore, and from this thou wilt not be able to escape.” After this the Prince of True Believers forbore to urge the matter, albeit he was mild and merciful by nature,271 and addressing the third man whom the Wazir had brought before him said, “As I was walking in such a quarter I was astonished to see thy mansion, so great and so grand is it; and when I made enquiry of the townsfolk they answered each and every, that the palace belongeth to one (thyself) whom they called Khwájah Hasan. They added that thou west erewhile exceeding poor and in straitened case, but that Allah Almighty had widened thy means and had now sent thee wealth in such store that thou hast builded the finest of buildings; moreover, that albeit thou hast so princely a domicile and such abundance of riches, thou art not unmindful of thy former estate, and thou dost not waste thy substance in riotous living but thou addest thereto by lawful trade. The neighbourhood all speaketh well of thee and not a wight of them hath aught to say against thee; so I now would know of thee the certainty of these things and hear from thine own lips how thou didst gain this abundant wealth. I have summoned thee before me that I might be assured of all such matters by actual hearsay: so fear not to tell me all thy tale; I desire naught of thee save knowledge of this thy case. Enjoy thou to thy heart’s content the opulence that Almighty Allah deigned bestow upon thee, and let thy soul have pleasure therein. Thus spake the Caliph and the gracious words reassured the man. Then Khwajah Hasan threw himself before the Commander of the Faithful and, kissing the carpet at the foot of the throne, exclaimed, “O Prince of True Believers, I will relate to thee a faithful relation of my adventure, and Almighty Allah be my witness that I have not done aught contrary to thy laws and just commandments, and that all this my wealth is by the favour and goodness of Allah alone.” Harun al-Rashid hereupon again bade him speak out boldly and forthwith he began to recount in the following words the
259 The Turco-English form of the Persian “Puláo.”
260 i.e. the secure (fem.). It was the name of the famous concubine of Solomon to whom he entrusted his ring (vol. vi. 84), also of the mother of Mohammed who having taken her son to Al-Medinah (Yathrib) died on the return journey. I cannot understand why the Apostle of Al-Islam, according to his biographers and commentators, refused to pray for his parent’s soul, she having been born in Al-Fitrah (the interval between the fall of Christianity and the birth of Al-Islam), when he had not begun to preach his “dispensation.”
261 The cane-play: see vol. vi. 263.
262 Galland has une Goule, i.e., a Ghúlah, a she-Ghúl, an ogress. But the lady was supping with a male of that species, for which see vols. i. 55; vi. 36.
263 In the text “Wazífah” prop. = a task, a stipend, a salary, but here = the “Farz” devotions which he considered to be his duty. In Spitta-Bey (loc. cit. p. 218) it is = duty,
264 For this scene which is one of every day in the East; see Pilgrimage ii. pp. 52-54.
265 This hate of the friend of man is inherited from Jewish ancestors; and, wherever the Hebrew element prevails, the muzzle, which has lately made its appearance in London, is strictly enforced, as at Trieste. Amongst the many boons which civilisation has conferred upon Cairo I may note hydrophobia; formerly unknown in Egypt the dreadful disease has lately caused more than one death. In India sporadic cases have at rare times occurred in my own knowledge since 1845.
266 In Galland “Rougeau” = (for Rougeaud?) a red-faced (man), etc., and in the English version “Chance”: “Bakht” = luck, good fortune.
267 In the text “Sarráf” = a money-changer. See vols. i. 210; iv. 270.
268 Galland has forgotten this necessary detail: see vol. i. 30 and elsewhere. In Lane’s story of the man metamorphosed to an ass, the old woman, “quickly covering her face, declared the fact.”
269 In the normal forms of this story, which Galland has told very badly, the maiden would have married the man she saved.
270 In other similar tales the injured one inflicts such penalty by the express command of his preserver who takes strong measures to ensure obedience.
271 In the more finished tales of the true “Nights” the mare would have been restored to human shape after giving the best security for good conduct in time to come.
O Lord of beneficence! obedient to thy royal behest, I will now inform thy Highness of the means and the measures whereby Destiny cowered me with such wealth; but first I would thou hear somewhat of two amongst my friends who abode in the House of Peace, Baghdad. They twain are yet alive and both well know the history which thy slave shall now relate. One of them, men call Sa’d, the other Sa’dí.273 Now Sa’di opined that without riches no one in this world could be happy and independent; moreover that without hard toil and trouble and wariness and wisdom withal it were impossible to become wealthy. But Sa’d differing therefrom would affirm that affluence cometh not to any save by decree of Destiny and fiat of Fate and Fortune. Sa’d was a poor man while Sa’di had great store of good; yet there sprang up a firm friendship between them and fond affection each for other; nor were they ever wont to differ upon any matter save only upon this; to wit, that Sa’di relied solely upon deliberation and forethought and Sa’d upon doom and man’s lot. It chanced one day that, as they sat talking together on this matter, quoth Sa’di, “A poor man is he who either is born a pauper and passeth all his days in want and penury, or he who having been born to wealth and comfort, doth in the time of manhood squander all he hath and falleth into grievous need; then lacketh he the power to regain his riches and to live at ease by wit and industry.” Sa’d made answer, saying, “Nor wit nor industry availeth aught to any one, but Fate alone enableth him to acquire and to preserve riches. Misery and want are but accidents and deliberation is naught. Full many a poor man hath waxed affluent by favour of Fate and richards manifold have, despite their skill and store, been reduced to misery and beggary.” Quoth Sa’di, “Thou speakest foolishly. Howbeit put we the matter to fair test and find out for ourselves some handicraftsman scanty of means and living upon his daily wage; him let us provide with money, then will he without a doubt increase his stock and abide in ease and comfort, and so shalt thou be persuaded that my words be true.” Now as they twain were walking on, they passed through the lane wherein stood my lodging and saw me a twisting ropes, which craft my father and grandfather and many generations before me had followed. By the condition of my home and dress they judged that I was a needy man; where upon Sa’d pointing me out to Sa’di said, “An thou wouldst make trial of this our matter of dispute, see yonder wight. He hath dwelt here for many years and by this trade of rope making cloth gain a bare subsistence for himself and his. I know his case right well of old; he is a worthy subject for the trial; so do thou give him some gold pieces and test the matter.” “Right willingly,” replied Sa’di, “but first let us take full cognizance of him.” So the two friends came up to me, whereat I left my work and saluted them. They returned my salam after which quoth Sa’di, “Prithee what be thy name?” Quoth I, “My name is Hasan, but by reason of my trade of rope making all men call me Hasan al-Habbál."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-Habbal (the Rope-maker) continued his story, saying. — Thereupon Sa’di asked me, “How farest thou by this industry? Me thinks thou art blithe and quite content therewith. Thou hast worked long and well and doubtless thou hast laid by large store of hemp and other stock. Thy forbears carried on this craft for many years and must have left thee much of capital and property which thou hast turned to good account and on this wise thou hast largely increased thy wealth.” Quoth I, “O my lord, no money have I in pouch whereby I may live happy or even buy me enough to eat. This is my case that every day, from dawn till eve I spend in making ropes, nor have I one single moment wherein to take rest; and still I am sore straitened to provide even dry bread for myself and family. A wife have I and five small children, who are yet too young to help me ply this business: and ’tis no easy matter to supply their daily wants; how then canst thou suppose that I am enabled to put by large store of hemp and stock? What ropes I twist each day I sell straightway, and of the money earned thereby I spend part upon our needs and with the rest I buy hemp wherewith I twist ropes on the next day. However, praise be to Almighty Allah that, despite this my state of penury He provideth us with bread sufficing our necessity.” When I had made known all my condition Sa’di replied, “O Hasan, now I am certified of thy case and indeed ’tis other than I had supposed; and, given that I gave thee a purse of two hundred Ashrafis, assuredly thou shalt therewith greatly add to thy gains and be enabled to live in ease and affluence: what sayest thou thereto?” Said I, “An thou favour me with such bounty I should hope to grow richer than all and every of my fellow-craftsmen, albeit Baghdad-town is prosperous as it is populous.” Then Sa’di, deeming me true and trustworthy, pulled out of his pocket a purse of two hundred gold pieces and handing them to me said “Take these coins and trade therewith. May Allah advance thee but see to it that thou use this money with all heed, and waste it not in folly and ungraciousness. I and my friend Sa’d will rejoice with all joy to hear of thy well being; and, if hereafter we come again and find thee in flourishing condition, ’twill be matter of much satisfaction to us both.” Accordingly, O Commander of the Faithful, I took the purse of gold with much gladness and a grateful heart and, placing it in my pocket, thanked Sa’di kissing his garment-hem, whereupon the two friends fared forth. And I, O Prince of True Believers, seeing the twain depart, went on working, but was sore puzzled and perplexed as to where I might bestow the purse; for my house contained neither cupboard nor locker. Howbeit I took it home and kept the matter hidden from my wife and children and when alone and unobserved I drew out ten gold coins by way of spending money; then, binding the purse mouth with a bit of string I tied it tightly in the folds of my turband and wound the cloth around my head. Presently, I went off to the market street and bought me a stock of hemp and coming homewards I laid in some meat for supper, it being now a long while since we had tasted flesh. But as I trudged along the road, meat in hand, a kite274 came suddenly swooping down, and would have snatched the morsel from out my hand had I not driven off the bird with the other hand. Then it had fain pounced upon the flesh on the left side but again I scared it away and thus, whilst exerting myself with frantic efforts to ward off the bird, by ill luck my turband fell to the ground. At once that accursed kite swooped down and flew off with it in its talons; and I ran pursuing it and shouted aloud. Hearing my cries the Bazar-folk, men and women and a rout of children, did what they could to scare it away and make the beastly bird drop its prey, but they shouted and cast stones in vain: the kite would not let drop the turband and presently flew clean out of sight. I was sore distressed and heavy hearted to lose the Ashrafis as I tried me home bearing the hemp and what of food I had bought, but chiefly was I vexed and grieved in mind, and ready to die of shame at the thought of what Sa’di would say; especially when I reflected how he would misdoubt my words, nor deem the tale true when I should tell him that a kite had carried off my turband with the gold pieces, but rather would he think that I had practised some deceit and had devised some amusing fable by way of excuse. Howbeit I hugely enjoyed what had remained of the ten Ashrafis and with my wife and children fared sumptuously for some days. Presently, when all the gold was spent and naught remained thereof, I became as poor and needy as before, withal I was content and thankful to Almighty Allah nor blamed my lot. He had sent in his mercy this purse of gold to me unawares and now He had taken it away, wherefore I was grateful and satisfied, for what He doeth is ever well done. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she: I have heard, O auspicious King, that Master Hasan the Ropemaker continued his story in these words:— My wife, who knew not of the matter of the Ashrafis, presently perceived that I was ill at ease and I was compelled for a quiet life to let her know my secret; moreover the neighbours came round to ask me of my case: but I was right loath to tell them all that had betided; they could not bring back what was gone and they would assuredly rejoice at my calamity. However, when they pressed me close I told them every whit; and some thought that I had spoken falsely and derided me and others that I was daft and hare-brained and my words were the wild pratings of an idiot or the drivel of dreams. The youngsters made abundant fun of me and laughed to think that I, who never in my born days had sighted a golden coin, should tell how I had gotten so many Ashrafis, and how a kite had flown away with them. My wife, however, gave full credence to my tale and wept and beat her breast for sorrow. Thus six months passed over us, when it chanced one day that the two friends, to wit, Sa’di and Sa’d, came to my quarter of the town, when quoth Sa’d to Sa’di, “Lo, yonder is the street where dwelleth Hasan al-Habbal. Come let us go and see how he hath added to his stock and how far he hath prospered by means of the two hundred Ashrafis thou gavest him.” Sa’di rejoined, ’Tis well said; indeed, we have not seen him for many days: I would fain visit him and I should rejoice to hear that he hath prospered.” So the twain walked along towards my house, Sa’d saying to Sa’di, “Forsooth I perceive that he appeareth the same in semblance, poor and ill-conditioned as before; he weareth old and tattered garments, save that his turband seemeth somewhat newer and cleaner. Look well and judge thyself and ’tis even as I said.” Thereupon Sa’di came up closer to me and he also understood that my condition was unaltered; and presently the two friends addressed me. After the usual salutetion Sa’d asked, O Hasan, how fareth it with thee, and how goeth it with thy business and have the two hundred Ashrafis stood thee in good stead and amended thy trade?” To this answered I, “O my lords, how can I tell you of the sad mishap that hath befallen me? I dare not speak for very shame, yet cannot I keep the adventure concealed. Verily a marvellous matter and a wondrous hath happened to me, the tale whereof will fill you with wonderment and suspicion, for I wot full well that ye will not believe it, and that I shall be to you as one that dealeth in lies; withal needs must I tell you the whole however unwillingly.” Hereat I recounted to them every whit that had betided me first and last, especially that which had befallen me from the kite; but Sa’di misdoubted me and mistrusted me and cried, “O Hasan, thou speakest but in jest and dost dissemble with us. ’Tis hard to believe the tale thou tellest. Kites are not wont to fly off with turbands, but only with such things as they can eat. Thou wouldst but outwit us and thou art of those who, when some good fortune cometh to them unforeseen, do straightways abandon their work or their business and, wasting all in pleasuring, become once more poor and thereafter must nilly-willy eke out a living as best they may. This methinks be especially the case with thee; thou hast squandered our gift with all speed and now art needy as before.” “O good my lord, not so,” cried I; “this blame and these hard words ill befit my deserts, for I am wholly innocent of all thou imputest to me. The strange mishap whereof I told thee is the truest of truths; and to prove that it is no lie all the town-folk have knowledge thereof and in good sooth I do not play thee false. ’Tis certain that kites do not fly away with turbands; but such mishaps, wondrous and marvellous, may betide mankind especially the miserable of lot.” Sa’d also espoused my cause and said, “O Sa’di, ofttimes have we seen and heard how kites carry off many things besides comestibles; and his tale may not be wholly contrary to reason.” Then Sa’di pulled out from his pocket a purseful of gold pieces and counted out and gave me another two hundred, saying, “O Hasan, take these Ashrafis, but see that thou keep them with all heed and diligence and beware, and again I say beware, lest thou lose them like the others. Expend them in such fashion that thou mayst reap full benefit therefrom and prosper even as thou seest thy neighbours prosper.” I took the money from him and poured out thanks and blessings upon his head, and when they went their ways I returned to my rope-walk and thence in due time straight home. My wife and children were abroad, so again I took ten gold coins of the two hundred and securely tied up the remainder in a piece of cloth then I looked around to find a spot wherein to hide my hoard so that my wife and youngsters might not come to know of it and lay hands thereon. Presently, I espied a large earthen jar full of bran standing in a corner of the room, so herein I hid the rag with the gold coins and I misdeemed that it was safely concealed from wife and wees. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-Habbal thus continued his story:— When I had put the Ashrafis a bottom the jar of bran, my wife came in and I said naught to her of the two friends or of aught had happened, but I set out for the Bazar to buy hemp. Now as soon as I had left the house there came, by evil fate impelled, a man who sold Tafl, or fuller’s earth,275 wherewith the poorer sort of women are wont to wash their hair. My wife would fain have bought some but not a single Kauri276 or almond had she. Then she took thought and said to herself, “This jar of bran is here to no purpose, I will exchange it for the clay,” and he also, the Tafl seller, agreed to this proposal and went off taking the jar of bran as the price of the washing earth. Anon I came back with a load of hemp upon my head and other five on the heads of as many porters who accompanied me; and I helped them off with their burthens and, after storing the stuff in a room, I paid and dismissed them. Then I stretched me out upon the floor to take rest awhile and looking towards the corner where once stood the jar of bran I found it gone. Words fail me, O Prince of True Believers, to describe the tumult of feelings which filled my heart at the sight. I sprang up with all speed and calling to my wife enquired of her whither the jar had been carried; and she replied that she had exchanged its contents for a trifle of washing clay. Then cried I aloud, “O wretched, O miserable, what hast thou done? thou hast ruined me and thy children; thou hast given away great wealth to that clay selling fellow!” Then I told her all that had betided me, of the coming of the two friends and how I had hidden the hundred and ninety Ashrafis within the bran-jar; and she, on hearing this wept sore and beat her breast and tore her hair crying, “Where now shall I find that clay-seller? The wight is a stranger, never before did I see him about this quarter or this street. Then turning to me she continued, “Herein thou hast dealt right foolishly, for that thou didst not tell me of the matter, nor didst place any trust in me; otherwise this mishap would never have happened to us; no, never.” And she lamented with loud lamentation and bitter whereat I said, “Make not such hubbub nor display such trouble, lest our neighbours overhear thee, and learning of our mishap peradventure laugh at us and call us fools. It behoveth us to rest content with the will of Almighty Allah.” However the ten Ashrafis which I had taken from the two hundred sufficed me to carry on my trade and to live with more of ease for some short while; but I ever grieved and I marvelled much anent what could be said to Sa’di when he should come again; for inasmuch as he believed me not the first time I was assured in my mind that now he would denounce me aloud as a cheat and a liar. One day of the days the twain, to wit, Sa’d and Sa’di, came strolling towards my house conversing and, as usual, arguing about me and my case; and I seeing them from afar left off working that I might hide myself, as I could not for very shame come forth and accost them. Seeing this and not guessing the reason they entered my dwelling and, saluting me with the salam, asked me how I had fared. I durst not raise my eyes so abashed and mortified was I, and with bended brow returned the greeting; when they, noting my sorry plight, marvelled saying, “Is all well with thee? Why art thou in this state? Hast thou not made good use of the gold or hast thou wasted thy wealth in lewd living?” Quoth I, “O my lords, the story of the Ashrafis is none other than this. When ye departed from me I went home with the purse of money and, finding no one was in the house for all had gone out somewhere, I took out therefrom ten gold pieces. Then I put the rest together with the purse within a large earthen jar filled full of bran which had long stood in one corner of the room, so might the matter be kept privy from my wife and children. But whilst I was in the market buying me some hemp, my wife returned home; and at that moment there came in to her a man which sold fuller’s earth for washing hair. She had need thereof withal naught to pay with; so she went out to him and said, ‘I am clean without coin, but I have a quantity of bran; say me, wilt thou have that in change for thy clay?’ The man agreed and accordingly my wife took the earth of him, and gave him in exchange the jarful of bran which he carried away with him and ganged his gait. An ye ask, ‘Wherefore didst thou not confide the matter to thy spouse and tell her that thou hadst put the money in the jar?’ I on my side answer, that ye gave me strict injunctions to keep the money this time with the utmost heed and caution. Methought that stead was the safest wherein to store the gold and I was loath to trust my wife lest haply she take some coin therefrom and expend it upon her household. O my lords, I am certified of your goodness and graciousness, but poverty and penury are writ in my Book of Fate; how then can I aspire to possessions and prosperity? Withal, never while I breathe the breath of life, shall I be forgetful of this your generous favour.” Quoth Sa’di, “Meseemeth I have disbursed four hundred Ashrafis to no purpose in giving them to thee; yet the intent wherewith they were given was that thou shouldst benefit thereby, not that I claim thy praise and thanksgiving.” So they twain compassionated and condoled with me in my misfortune; and presently Sa’d, an upright man and one who had acquaintance with me since many a year, produced a leaden coin277 which he had picked up from the path and was still carrying in his pocket; and, after shewing it to Sa’di, said to me, “Seest thou this bit of lead? Take it and by favour of Fate thou shalt find out what blessings it will bring to thee.” Sa’di on espying it laughed aloud and made jest of the matter and flouting said, “What advantage will there be to Hasan from this mite of lead and in what way shall he use it?” Sa’d handing me the leaden coin retorted in reply, “Give no heed to whatso Sa’di may say, but keep this by thee. Let him laugh an he please. One day haply shall come to pass, Inshallah — an it be the will of Almighty Allah — that thou shalt by means thereof become a wealthy man and a magnifico.” I took the bit of lead and put it in my pocket, and the twain bade me farewell and went their way. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she — I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-Habbal thus continued his story:— As soon as Sa’d and Sa’di had departed, I went on rope-twisting until night came and when doffing my dress to go to bed the bit of lead which Sa’d had given me fell out of my pocket; so I picked it up and set it carelessly in a small niche in the wall.278 Now that very night so it happened that a fisherman, one of my neighbours, stood in need of a small coin279 wherewith to buy some twine for mending his drag-net, as he was wont to do during the dark hours, in order that he might catch the fish ere dawn of day and selling his quarry, buy victuals for himself and his household. So, as he was accustomed to rise while yet somewhat of night remained, he bade his wife go round about to all the neighbours and borrow a copper that he might buy the twine required; and the woman went everywhere, from house to house, but nowhere could she get loan of a farthing, and at last she came home weary and disappointed. Quoth the fisherman to her, “Hast thou been to Hasan al-Habbal?” and quoth she, “Nay, I have not tried at his place. It is the furthest of all the neighbours’ houses and fanciest thou, even had I gone there, I could thence have brought back aught?” “Off with thee, O laziest of hussies and good for nothing of baggages,” cried the fisherman, “away with thee this instant; perchance he hath a copper to lend us.” Accordingly the woman, grumbling and muttering, fared forth and coming to my dwelling knocked at the door, saying, “O Hasan al-Habbal, my husband is in sore need of a pice wherewith to buy some twine for mending his nets.” Minding me of the coin which Sa’d had given me and where it had been put away, I shouted out to her, “Have patience, my spouse will go forth to thee and give thee what thou needest.” My wife, hearing all this hubbub, woke from sleep, and I told her where to find the bit of money, whereupon she fetched it and gave it to the woman, who joyed with exceeding joy, and said, “Thou and thy husband have shown great kindness to my man, wherefore I promise thee that whatsoever fish he may chance to catch at the first throw of the net shall be thine; and I am assured that my goodman, when he shall hear of this my promise, will consent thereto.” Accordingly when the woman took the money to her husband and told him of what pledge she had given, he was right willing, and said to her, “Thou hast done well and wisely in that thou madest this covenant.” Then having bought some twine and mended all the nets he rose before dawn and hastened riverwards to catch fish according to his custom. But when he cast the net into the stream for the first throw and haled it in, he found that it contained but one fish and that a full span280 or so in thickness, which he placed apart as my portion. Then he threw the net again and again and at each cast he caught many fishes both small and great, but none reached in size that he first had netted. As soon as he returned home the fisherman came at once to me and brought the fish he had netted in my name, and said, O our neighbour, my wife promised over night that thou shouldst have whatever fishes should come to ground at the first net throw; and this fish is the only one I caught. Here it is, prithee take it as a thanks offering for the kindness of last night, and as fulfilment of the promise. If Allah Almighty had vouchsafed to me of fish a seine-full, all had been thine but ’tis thy fate that only this one was landed at the first cast.” Said I, “The mite I gave thee yesternight was not of such value that I should look for somewhat in return;” and refused to accept it. But after much “say and said” he would not take back the fish, and he insisted that it was mine: wherefore I agreed to keep it and gave it to my wife, saying, “O woman, this fish is a return for the mite I gave last night to the fisherman our neighbour. Sa’d hath declared that by means of that coin I shall attain to much riches and abundant opulence.” Then I recounted to my wife how my two friends had visited me and what they said and did, and all concerning the leaden coin which Sa’d had given to me. She wondered at seeing but a single fish and said, “How shall I cook it? Meseemeth ’twere best to cut it up and broil it for the children, especially as we have naught of spices and condiments wherewith to dress it otherwise.” Then, as she sliced and cleansed the fish she found within its belly a large diamond which she supposed to be a bit of glass or crystal; for she oft had heard tell of diamonds281 but never with her own eyes had she beheld one. So she gave it to the youngest of the children for a plaything and when the others saw it, by reason of its brightness and brilliancy all desired to have it and each kept it in turn awhile; moreover when night came and the lamp was lighted they crowded round the stone and gazed upon its beauty, and screamed and shouted with delight.282 When my wife had spread the table we sat down to supper and the eldest boy set the diamond upon the tray, and as soon as we all had finished eating, the children fought and scrambled as before for it. At first I paid no heed to their noise and hubbub, but when it waxed exceeding loud and irksome I asked my eldest lad the cause why they quarrelled and made such turmoil. Quoth he, “The trouble and dispute are about a piece of glass which giveth forth a light as bright as the lamp.” Whereat I told him to produce it and marvelled greatly to see its sparkling water, and enquired of my wife whence she had gotten the piece of crystal. Quoth she, “This I found within the belly of the fish as I was gutting it.” Still I did not suppose it to be aught but glass. Presently I bade my wife hide the lamp behind the hearth. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-Habbal thus continued his story:— And when my wife had hidden the lamp from view, such was the brightness of the diamond that we could see right well without other light; wherefore I placed it upon the hearth283 that we might work by it, and said within myself, “The coin that Sa’d left with me hath produced this benefit that we no longer stand in need of a lamp: at least it saveth us oil.” When the youngsters saw me put out the lamp and use the glass in its stead they jumped and danced for joy, and screamed and shouted with glee so that all the neighbours round about could hear them when I chid them and sent them to bed; we also went to rest and right soon fell asleep. Next day I woke betimes and went on with my work and thought not of the piece of glass. Now there dwelt hard by us a wealthy Jew, a jeweller who bought and sold all kinds of precious stones; and, as he and his wife essayed to sleep that night, by reason of the noise and clamour of the children they were disturbed for many hours and slumber visited not their eyes. And when morn appeared, the jeweller’s wife came to our house to make complaint both for herself and her husband anent the hubbub and shouting. Ere she could say a word of blame my wife, guessing the intent wherewith she came, addressed her saying, “O Rahíl,284 I fear me that my children pestered thee last night with their laughing and crying. I crave thine indulgence in this matter; well thou must wot how children now cry now laugh at trifles. Come in and see the cause of all their excitement wherefor thou wouldst justly call me to account.” She did accordingly and saw the bit of glass about which the youngsters had made such din and uproar; and when she, who had long experience of all manner precious stones, beheld the diamond she was filled with wonderment. My wife then told her how she had found it in the fish’s belly, whereupon quoth the Jewess, “This bit of glass is more excellent than all other sorts of glass. I too have such an one as this which I am wont to wear sometimes; and wouldst thou sell it I will buy this thing of thee.” Hearing her words the children began to cry and said, “O mother dear, an thou wilt not sell it we promise henceforth to make no noise.” Understanding that they would by no means part with it, the women held their peace and presently the Jewess fared forth, but ere she took her leave she whispered my wife, “See that thou tell the matter to none; and, if thou have a mind to sell it at once send me word.” Now the Jew was sitting in his shop when his wife went to him and told him of the bit of glass. Quoth he, “Go straightway back and offer a price for it, saying that ’tis for me. Begin with some small bidding, then raise the sum until thou get it.” The Jewess thereupon returned to my house and offered twenty Ashrafis, which my wife deemed a large sum to give for such a trifle; however, she would not close the bargain. At that moment I happened to leave my work and, coming home to our noon meal, saw the two women talking on the threshold; and my wife stopped me, saying, “This neighbour biddeth twenty Ashrafis to price for the piece of glass, but I have as yet given her no reply. What sayest thou?” Then I bethought me of what Sa’d had told me; to wit, that much wealth would come to me by virtue of his leaden coin. The Jewess seeing how I hesitated bethought her that I would not consent to the price; so quoth she, “O neighbour, an thou wilt not agree to part with the bit of glass for twenty pieces of gold, I will e’en give thee fifty.” Hereat I reflected that whereas the Jewess raised her offer so readily from twenty golden pieces to fifty, this glass must surely be of great value; so I kept silence and answered her not a word. Then noting that I still held my peace she cried, “Take then one hundred: this be its full value; nay I know not in very deed if my husband will consent to so high a price.” Said I in reply, “O my good woman, why talk so foolishly? I will not sell it for aught less than an hundred thousand285 gold coins; and thou mayest take it at that price but only because thou art neighbour to us.” The Jewess raised her offer coin by coin to fifty thousand Ashrafis and said, “I pray thee wait till morning and sell it not till then, so that my man may come round and see it.” “Right willingly,” quoth I; “by all manner of means let thy husband drop in and inspect it."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-Habbal thus continued his story. — Next day the Jew came to my house and I drew forth and showed to him the diamond which shone and glittered in my palm with light as bright as any lamp’s. Presently, assured that all which his wife had told him of its water and lustre was strictly true, he took it in hand and, examining it and turning it about, marvelled with mighty marvel at its beauty saying, “My wife made offer of fifty thousand gold pieces: see now I will give thee yet another twenty thousand.” Said I, “Thy wife hath surely named to thee what sum I fixed to wit, one hundred thousand Ashrafis and naught less: I shall not abate one jot or tittle of this price.” The Jew did all he could to buy it for a lesser sum; but I answered only, “It mattereth naught; an thou desire not to come to my terms I must needs sell it to some other jeweller.” At length he consented and weighed me out two thousand gold pieces by way of earnest-money, saying, “To-morrow I will bring the amount of my offer and carry off my diamond.” To this I gave assent and so, on the day following, he came to me and weighed out the full sum of one hundred thousand Ashrafis, which he had raised amongst his friends and partners in business. Then I gave him the diamond which had brought me such exceeding wealth, and offered thanks to him and praises unto Almighty Allah for this great good Fortune gotten unawares, and much I hoped soon to see my two friends, Sa’d and Sa’di, and to thank them likewise. So first I set my house in order and gave spending-money to my wife for home necessaries and for clothing herself and children; moreover, I also bought me a fine mansion and furnished it with the best. Then said I to my wife, who thought of nothing save rich clothes and high diet and a life of ease and enjoyment, “It behoveth us not to give up this our craft: we must needs put by some coin and carry on the business.” Accordingly, I went to all the rope-makers of the city and buying with much money several manufactories put them to work, and over each establishment I set an overseer, an intelligent man and a trustworthy, so that there is not now throughout Baghdad-city a single ward or quarter that hath not walks and workshops of mine for rope making. Nay, further, I have in each town and every district of Al-Irak warehouses, all under charge of honest supervisors; and thus it is that I have amassed such a muchel of wealth. Lastly, for my own especial place of business I bought another house, a ruined place with a sufficiency of land adjoining; and, pulling down the old shell, I edified in lieu thereof the new and spacious edifice which thy Highness hath deigned yesterday to look upon. Here all my workmen are lodged and here also are kept my office-books and accounts; and besides my warehouse it containeth apartments fitted with furniture in simple style all sufficient for myself and my family. After some time I quitted my old home, wherein Sa’d and Sa’di had seen me working, and went and lived in the new mansion and not long after this removal my two friends and benefactors bethought them that they would come and visit me They marvelled much when, entering my old workshop, they found me not, and they asked the neighbours, “Where dwelleth such and such a rope-maker? Is he alive or dead?” Quoth the folk “He now is a rich merchant; and men no longer call him simply ‘Hasan,’ but entitle him ‘Master Hasan the Rope-maker.’ He hath built him a splendid building and he dwelleth in such and such a quarter.” Whereupon the two familiars set forth in search of me; and they rejoiced at the good report; albeit Sa’di would by no means be convinced that all my wealth had sprung (as Sa’d contended) from its root, that small leaden coin. Presently, conning the matter over in his mind he said to his comrade, “It delighteth me much to hear of all this good fortune which hath betided Hasan, despite that he twice deceived me and took from me four hundred gold pieces, whereby he hath gotten to himself these riches; for it is absurd to think that it hath come from the leaden coin thou gavest him. Withal I do forgive him and owe him no grudge.” Replied the other, “Thou art mistaken. I know Hasan of old to be a good man and true: he would not delude thee and what he told us is simple sooth. I am persuaded in my mind that he hath won all his wealth and opulence by the leaden coin: however we shall hear anon what he may have to say.” Conversing thus they came into the street wherein I now dwell and, seeing a large and magnificent mansion and a new made, they guessed it was mine. So they knocked and, on the porter opening, Sa’di marvelled to see such grandeur and so many folk sitting within, and feared lest haply they had unwittingly entered the house of some Emir. Then plucking courage he enquired of the porter, “Is this the dwelling place of Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal?"— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazed held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-Habbal continued thus his story:— The porter made reply, “This is verily the house of Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal; he is within and he sitteth in his office. I pray thee enter and one of the slaves will make known thy coming to him.” Hereupon the two friends walked in, and as soon as I saw them I recognised them, and rising up to them I ran and kissed the hems of their garments. They would fain have fallen on my neck and embraced me, but with meekness of mind I would not suffer them so to do; and presently I led them into a large and spacious saloon, and bade them sit upon the highmost seats of honour. They would have constrained me to take the best place, but I exclaimed “O my lords, I am on no wise better than the poor rope-maker Hasan, who not unmindful of your worth and goodness ever prayeth for your welfare, and who deserveth not to sit in higher stead than you.” Then they took seat and I opposite them, when quoth Sa’di, “My heart rejoiceth with exceeding joy to see thee in this condition, for that Allah hath given thee all even as thou wishedst. I doubt not thou has gotten all this abundance and opulence by means of the four hundred gold pieces which I gave to thee; but say me truly wherefore didst thou twice deceive me and bespeak me falsely?” Sa’d listened to these words with silent indignation, and ere I could make reply he broke out saying, “O Sa’di, how often have I assured thee that all which Hasan said aforetime anent the losing of the Ashrafis is very sooth and no leasing?” Then they began to dispute each with other; when I, recovering from my surprise, exclaimed, “O my lords, of what avail is this contention? Be not at variance, I beseech you, on my account. All that had befallen me I made known to you; and, whether ye believe my words or ye believe them not, it mattereth but little. Now hearken to the whole truth of my tale.” Then I made known to them the story of the piece of lead which I had given to the fisherman and of the diamond found in the fish’s belly; brief, I told them every whit even as I have now related to thy Highness. On hearing all my adventure Sa’di said, “O Khwajah Hasan, it seemeth to me passing strange that so great a diamond should be found in the belly of a fish; and I deem it a thing impossible that a kite should fly off with thy turband, or that thy wife should give away the jar of bran in exchange for fuller’s earth. Thou sayest the tale is true, still can I not give credit to thy words, for I know full well that the four hundred gold pieces have gotten thee all this wealth.” But when they twain rose up to take their leave, I also arose and said, “O my lords, ye have shown favour to me in that ye have thus deigned visit me in my poor home. I beseech you now to taste of my food and to tarry here this night under your servant’s roof; as to-morrow I would fain take you by the way of the river to a country house which I have lately bought.” Hereto they consented with some objections; and I, after giving orders for the evening meal, showed them about the house and displayed the furniture and entertained them with pleasing words and pleasant converse, till a slave came and announced that supper was served. So I led them to the saloon wherein were ranged the trays loaded with many kinds of meats; on all sides stood camphorated wax candles,286 and before the table were gathered musicians singing and playing on various instruments of mirth and merriment, whilst in the upper part of the saloon men and women were dancing and making much diversion. When we had supped we went to bed, and rising early we prayed the dawn-prayer, and presently embarked on a large and well-appointed boat, and the rowers rowing with a flowing tide soon landed us at my country seat. Then we strolled in a body about the grounds and entered the house, when I showed them our new buildings and displayed to them all that appertained thereto; and hereat they marvelled with great marvel. Thence we repaired to the garden and saw, planted in rows along the walks, fruit-trees of all kinds with ripe fruit bowed down, and watered with water from the river by means of brick-work channels. All round were flowering shrubs whose perfume gladdened the Zephyr; here and there fountains and jets of water shot high in air; and sweet-voiced birds made melody amid the leafy branches hymning the One, the Eternal; in short, the sights and scents on every side filled the soul with joy and gladness. My two friends walked about in joyance and delight, and thanked me again and again for bringing them to so lovely a site and said, “Almighty Allah prosper thee in house and garth.” At last I led them to the foot of a tall tree near to one of the garden walls and shewed them a little summer-house wherein I was wont to take rest and refreshment; and the room was furnished with cushions and divans and pillows purfled with virgin gold. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-Habbal thus pursued his tale:— Now so it happened that, as we sat at rest within that summer house, two sons of mine, whom I had sent together with their governor to my country place for change of water and air,287 were roaming about the garden seeking birds’ nests. Presently they came across a big one upon the top most boughs and tried to swarm up the trunk and carry it off, but by reason of their lack of strength and little practice they durst not venture so high; whereupon they bade a slave boy who ever attended on them, climb the tree. He did their bidding, but when looking into the nest he was amazed with exceeding amazement to see it mainly made of an old turband. So he brought down the stuff and handed it to the lads. My eldest son took it from his hands and carried it to the arbour for me to see, and set it at my feet saying in high glee, “O my father, look here; this nest is made of cloth.” Sa’d and Sa’di wondered with all wonderment at the sight and the marvel grew the greater when I, after considering it closely, recognised it for the very turband whereon the kite had swooped and which had been borne off by the bird. Then quoth I to my two friends “Examine well this turband and certify yourselves that it is the selfsame one worn upon my head when first ye honoured me with your presence.” Quoth Sa’d, “I know it not,” and quoth Sa’di, “An thou find within it the hundred and ninety gold pieces, then shalt thou be assured that is thy turband in very sooth.” I said, “O my lord, this is, well I wot, that very turband.” And as I held it in my hand, I found it heavy of weight, and opening out the folds felt somewhat tied up in one of the corners of the cloth;288 so I unrolled the swathes when lo and behold! I came upon the purse of gold pieces. Hereat, shewing it to Sa’di, I cried, “Canst thou not recognise this purse?” and he replied, “’Tis in truth the very purse of Ashrafis which I gave thee when first we met.” Then I opened the mouth and, pouring out the gold in one heap upon the carpet, bade him count his money; and he turned it over coin by coin and made the sum there of one hundred and ninety Ashrafis. Hereat waxing sore ashamed and confounded, he exclaimed, “Now do I believe thy words: nevertheless must thou admit that thou hast earned one half of this thy prodigious wealth with the two hundred gold pieces I gave thee after our second visit, and the other half by means of the mite thou gottest from Sa’d.” To this I made no answer, but my friends ceased not to dispute upon the matter. We then sat down to meat and drink, and when we had eaten our sufficiency, I and my two friends went to sleep in the cool arbour; after which when the sun was well nigh set we mounted and rode off to Baghdad leaving the servants to follow. However, arrived at the city we found all the shops shut and nowhere could we get grain and forage for the horses, and I sent off two slave boys who had run alongside of us to search for provender. One of them found a jar of bran in the shop of a corn-dealer and paying for the provision brought it, together with the jar, under promise that on the morrow he would carry back the vessel. Then he began to take out the bran by handfuls in the dark and to set it before the horses.-And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious king, that Hasan al-Habbal thus continued his story:— So as the slave boy took out the bran by handfuls and set it before the horses, suddenly his hand came upon a piece of cloth wherein was somewhat heavy. He brought it to me even as he found it and said, “See, is not this cloth the very one of whose loss thou hast ofttimes spoken to us?” I took it and wondering with great wonder knew it was the self same piece of stuff wherein I had tied up the hundred and four-score and ten Ashrafis before hiding them in the jar of bran. Then said I to my friends, “O my lords, it hath pleased Almighty Allah, ere we parted, I and you, to bear me witness of my words and to stablish that I told you naught save whatso was very sooth.” And I resumed, addressing Sa’di, “See here the other sum of money, that is, the hundred and ninety Ashrafis which thou gayest me and which I tied up in this very piece of cloth I now recognise.” Then I sent for the earthen jar that they might see it, and also bade carry it to my wife that she also might bear witness, an it be or be not the very bran-jar which she gave in exchange for fuller’s earth. Anon she sent us word and said, “Yea verily I know it well. ’Tis the same jar which I had filled with bran.” Accordingly Sa’di owned that he was wrong and said to S’ad, “Now I know that thou speakest truth, and am convinced that wealth cometh not by wealth; but only by the grace of Almighty Allah doth a poor man become a rich man.” And he begged pardon for his mistrust and unbelief. We accepted his excuses whereupon we retired to rest and early on the morrow my two friends bade me adieu and journeyed home wards with full persuasion that I had done no wrong and had not squandered the moneys they had given me. — Now when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid had heard the story of Khwajah Hasan to the end, he said, “I have known thee of old by fair report of thee from the folk who, one and all, declare that thou art a good man and true. Moreover the self same diamond whereby thou hast attained to so great riches is now in my treasury; so I would fain send for Sa’di forthright that he may see it with his own eyes, and weet for certain that not by means of money do men become or rich or poor.” The Prince of True Believers said moreover to Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal, “Go now and tell thy tale to my treasurer that he may take it down in writing for an everlasting memorial, and place the writ in the treasury together with the diamond.” Then the Caliph with a nod dismissed Khawajah Hasan; and Sidi Nu’uman and Baba Abdullah also kissed the foot of the throne and departed. So when Queen Shahrazad had made an end of relating this history she was about to begin the story of ‘All Baba and the Forty Thieves, but King Shahryar prevented her, saying, “O Shahrazad I am well pleased with this thy tale, but now the dawn appeareth and the chanticleer of morn doth sound his shrill clarion. This day also I spare thy life, to the intent that I may listen at my ease to this new history of thine at the end of the coming night.” Hereupon the three took their rest until the fittest time drew near. — And as the morning morrowed Shahrazad held her peace till
With the dawn Dunyazad awoke Queen Shahrazad from slumber sweet and said, “Arise, O my sister, but alas! ’tis a bitter thing to stand in awe of coming doom.” Replied Shahrazad, “O dear my sister, be not thou downhearted: if life’s span be spent naught can avert the sharp edged sword. Yet place thy trust in Allah Almighty and put far from thee all such anxious thoughts: my tales are tokens of life prolonged.” Whereupon Queen Shahrazad began to tell in these words the story of
272 i.e. Master Hasan the Rope-maker. Galland writes, after European fashion, “Hassan,” for which see vol. i. 251; and for “Khwájah” vol. vi. 146. “Al-Habbál” was the cognomen of a learned “Háfiz” (= traditionist and Koran reader), Abú Ishák Ibrahim, in Ibn Khall. ii. 262; for another see iv. 410.
273 “Sa’d” = prosperity and “Sa’dí’ ‘= prosperous, the surname of the “Persian moralist,” for whom see my friend F. F. Arbuthnot’s pleasant booklet, “Persian Portraits” (London Quaritch, 1887).
274 This is true to nature as may be seen any day at Bombay The crows are equally audacious, and are dangerous to men Iying wounded in solitary places.
275 The Pers. “Gil-i-sar-shúí” (=head-washing clay), the Sindi “Met,” and the Arab “Tafl,” a kind of clay much used in Persian, Afghanistan, Sind, etc. Galland turns it into terre à decrasser and his English translators into “scouring sand which women use in baths.” This argillaceous earth mixed with mustard oil is locally used for clay and when rose-leaves and perfumes are used, it makes a tolerable wash-ball. See “Scinde or The Unhappy Valley,” i. 31.
276 For the “Cowrie” (Cypr�a moneta) see vol. iv. 77. The Bádám or Bídám (almond) used by way of small change in India, I have noted elsewhere.
277 Galland has ”un morceau de plomb,” which in the Hindí text becomes “Shíshahkápaysá” = a (pice) small coin of glass: the translator also terms it a “Faddah,” for which see Nusf (alias “Nuss”), vols. ii. 37, vi. 214 and ix. 139, 167. Glass tokens, by way of coins, were until late years made at Hebron, in Southern Syria.
278 For the “Ták” or “Tákah” = the little wall-niche, see vol. vii. 361.
279 In the French and English versions the coin is a bit of lead for weighting the net. For the “Paysá” (pice) = two farthings, and in weight = half an ounce, see Herklot’s Glossary, p. xcviii.
280 In the text “bilisht” = the long span between thumb-tip and minimus-tip. Galland says long plus d’une coudée et gros à proportion.
281 For the diamond (Arab. “Almás” from {Greek text}, and in Hind. “Híra” and “Panná") see vols. vi. 15, i. ix. 325, and in latter correct, “Euritic,” a misprint for “dioritic.” I still cannot believe diamond-cutting to be an Indian art, and I must hold that it was known to the ancients. It could not have been an unpolished stone, that “Adamas notissimus” which according to Juvenal (vi. 156) Agrippa gave to his sister. Maundeville (A.D. 1322) has a long account of the mineral, “so hard that no man can polish it,” and called Hamese (“Almás?"). For Mr. Petrie and his theory, see vol. ix. 325. In most places where the diamond has been discovered of late years it had been used as a magic stone, e.g., by the Pagés or medicine-men of the Brazil, or for children’s playthings, which was the case with the South-African “Caffres.”
282 These stones, especially the carbuncle, which give out dight in darkness are a commonplace of Eastern folk-lore. For luminous jewels in folk-lore, see Mr. Clouston (i. 412): the belief is not wholly extinct in England, and I have often heard of it in the Brazil and upon the African Gaboon. It appears to me that there may be a basis of fact to tints fancy, the abnormal effect of precious stones upon mesmeric “sensitives.”
283 The chimney and chimney-piece of Galland are not Eastern: the H. V. uses “Bukhárí” = a place for steaming.
284 i.e. “Rachel.”
285 In the text “lakh,” the Anglicised “lac” = 100,000.
286 This use of camphor is noted by Gibbon (D. and F. iii. 195).
287 “Áb o hawá” = climate: see vol. ii. 4.
288 Galland makes this article a linen cloth wrapped about the skull-cap or core of the turban.
In days of yore and in times and tides long gone before there dwelt in a certain town of Persia two brothers one named Kásim and the other ‘Alí Bábá, who at their father’s demise had divided the little wealth he had left to them with equitable division, and had lost no time in wasting and spending it all. The elder, however, presently took to himself a wife, the daughter of an opulent merchant; so that when his father-in-law fared to the mercy of Almighty Allah, he became owner of a large shop filled with rare goods and costly wares and of a storehouse stocked with precious stuffs; likewise of much gold that was buried in the ground. Thus was he known throughout the city as a substantial man. But the woman whom Ali Baba had married was poor and needy; they lived, therefore, in a mean hovel and Ali Baba eked out a scanty livelihood by the sale of fuel which he daily collected in the jungle290 and carried about the town to the Bazar upon his three asses. Now it chanced one day that Ali Baba had cut dead branches and dry fuel sufficient for his need, and had placed the load upon his beasts when suddenly he espied a dust-cloud spireing high in air to his right and moving rapidly towards him; and when he closely considered it he descried a troop of horsemen riding on amain and about to reach him. At this sight he was sore alarmed, and fearing lest perchance they were a band of bandits who would slay him and drive off his donkeys, in his affright he began to run; but forasmuch as they were near hand and he could not escape from out the forest, he drove his animals laden with the fuel into a bye-way of the bushes and swarmed up a thick trunk of a huge tree to hide himself therein; and he sat upon a branch whence he could descry everything beneath him whilst none below could catch a glimpse of him above; and that tree grew close beside a rock which towered high above head. The horsemen, young, active, and doughty riders, came close up to the rock-face and all dismounted; whereat Ali Baba took good note of them and soon he was fully persuaded by their mien and demeanour that they were a troop of highwaymen who, having fallen upon a caravan had despoiled it and carried off the spoil and brought their booty to this place with intent of concealing it safely in some cache. Moreover he observed that they were forty in number. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious king, that Ali Baba saw the robbers, as soon as they came under the tree, each unbridle his horse and hobble it; then all took off their saddle-bags which proved to be full of gold and silver. The man who seemed to be the captain presently pushed forwards, load on shoulder, through thorns and thickets, till he came up to a certain spot where he uttered these strange words, “Open, O Simsim!”291 and forthwith appeared a wide doorway in the face of the rock. The robbers went in and last of all their Chief and then the portal shut of itself. Long while they stayed within the cave whilst Ali Baba was constrained to abide perched upon the tree, re fleeting that if he came down peradventure the band might issue forth that very moment and seize him and slay him. At last he had determined to mount one of the horses and driving on his asses to return townwards, when suddenly the portal dew open. The robber-chief was first to issue forth; then, standing at the entrance, he saw and counted his men as they came out, and lastly he spake the magical words, “Shut, O Simsim!” whereat the door closed of itself. When all had passed muster and review, each slung on his saddle-bags and bridled his own horse and as soon as ready they rode off, led by the leader, in the direction whence they came. Ali Baba remained still perched on the tree and watched their departure; nor would he descend until what time they were clean gone out of sight, lest perchance one of them return and look around and descry him. Then he thought within himself, “I too will try the virtue of those magical words and see if at my bidding the door will open and close.” So he called out aloud, “Open, O Simsim!” And no sooner had he spoken than straightway the portal flew open and he entered within. He saw a large cavern and a vaulted, in height equalling the stature of a full-grown man and it was hewn in the live stone and lighted up with light that came through air-holes and bullseyes in the upper surface of the rock which formed the roof. He had expected to find naught save outer gloom in this robbers’ den, and he was surprised to see the whole room filled with bales of all manner stuffs, and heaped up from sole to ceiling with camel-loads of silks and brocades and embroidered cloths and mounds on mounds of vari-coloured carpetings; besides which he espied coins golden and silvern without measure or account, some piled upon the ground and others bound in leathern bags and sacks. Seeing these goods and moneys in such abundance, Ali Baba determined in his mind that not during a few years only but for many generations thieves must have stored their gains and spoils in this place. When he stood within the cave, its door had closed upon him, yet he was not dismayed since he had kept in memory the magical words; and he took no heed of the precious stuffs around him, but applied himself only and wholly to the sacks of Ashrafis. Of these he carried out as many as he judged sufficient burthen for the beasts; then he loaded them upon his animals, and covered this plunder with sticks and fuel, so none might discern the bags, but might think that he was carrying home his usual ware. Lastly he called out, “Shut, O Simsim!” and forthwith the door closed, for the spell so wrought that whensoever any entered the cave, its portal shut of itself behind him; and, as he issued therefrom, the same would neither open nor close again till he had pronounced the words, “Shut, O Simsim!” Presently, having laden his asses Ali Baba urged them before him with all speed to the city and reaching home he drove them into the yard; and, shutting close the outer door, took down first the sticks and after the bags of gold which he carried in to his wife. She felt them and finding them full of coin suspected that Ali Baba had been robbing and fell to berating and blaming him for that he should do so ill a thing. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that quoth Ali Baba to his wife: “Indeed I am no robber and rather do thou rejoice with me at our good fortune.” Hereupon he told her of his adventure and began to pour the gold from the bags in heaps before her, and her sight was dazzled by the sheen and her heart delighted at his recital and adventures. Then she began counting the gold, whereat quoth Ali Baba, “O silly woman how long wilt thou continue turning over the coin? now let me dig a hole wherein to hide this treasure that none may know its secret.” Quoth she, “Right is thy rede! still would I weigh the moneys and have some inkling of their amount;” and he replied, “As thou pleasest”, but see thou tell no man.” So she went of f in haste to Kasim’s home to borrow weights and scales wherewith she might balance the Ashrafis and make some reckoning of their value; and when she could not find Kasim she said to his wife, “Lend me, I pray thee, thy scales for a moment.” Replied her sister-in-law,292 “Hast thou need of the bigger balance or the smaller?” and the other rejoined, “I need not the large scales, give me the little;” and her sister-in-law cried, “Stay here a moment whilst I look about and find thy want.” With this pretext Kasim’s wife went aside and secretly smeared wax and suet over the pan of the balance, that she might know what thing it was Ali Baba’s wife would weigh, for she made sure that whatso it be some bit thereof would stick to the wax and fat. So the woman took this opportunity to satisfy her curiosity, and Ali Baba’s wife suspecting naught thereof carried home the scales and began to weigh the gold, whilst Ali Baba ceased not digging; and, when the money was weighed, they twain stowed it into the hole which they carefully filled up with earth. Then the good wife took back the scales to her kinswoman, all unknowing that an Ashrafi had adhered to the cup of the scales; but when Kasim’s wife espied the gold coin she fumed with envy and wrath saying to herself, “So ho! they borrowed my balance to weigh out Ashrafis?” and she marvelled greatly whence so poor a man as Ali Baba had gotten such store of wealth that he should be obliged to weigh it with a pair of scales. Now after long pondering the matter, when her husband returned home at eventide, she said to him, “O man, thou deemest thyself a wight of wealth and substance, but lo, thy brother Ali Baba is an Emir by the side of thee and richer far than thou art. He hath such heaps of gold that he must needs weigh his moneys with scales, whilst thou, forsooth, art satisfied to count thy coin.” “Whence knowest thou this?” asked Kasim, and in answer his wife related all anent the pair of scales and how she found an Ashrafi stuck to them, and shewed him the gold coin which bore the mark and superscription of some ancient king. No sleep had Kasim all that night by reason of his envy and jealousy and covetise; and next morning he rose betimes and going to Ali Baba said, “O my brother, to all appearance thou art poor and needy; but in effect thou hast a store of wealth so abundant that perforce thou must weigh thy gold with scales.” Quoth Ali Baba, “What is this thou sayest? I understand thee not; make clear thy purport;” and quoth Kasim with ready rage, “Feign not that thou art ignorant of what I say and think not to deceive me.” Then showing him the Ashrafi he cried, “Thousands of gold coins such as these thou hast put by; and meanwhile my wife found this one stuck to the cup of the scales.” Then Ali Baba understood how both Kasim and his wife knew that he had store of Ashrafis, and said in his mind that it would not avail him to keep the matter hidden, but would rather cause ill-will and mischief; and thus he was induced to tell his brother every whit concerning the bandits293 and also of the treasure trove in the cave. When he had heard the story, Kasim exclaimed, ‘I would fain learn of thee the certainty of the place where thou foundest the moneys; also the magical words whereby the door opened and closed; and I forewarn thee an thou tell me not the whole truth, I will give notice of those Ashrafis to the Wali;294 then shalt thou forfeit all thy wealth and be disgraced and thrown into gaol.” Thereupon Ali Baba told him his tale not forgetting the magical words; and Kasim who kept careful heed of all these matters next day set out, driving ten mules he had hired, and readily found the place which Ali Baba had described to him. And when he came to the afore said rock and to the tree whereon Ali Baba had hidden himself and he had made sure of the door he cried in great joy, “Open, O Simsim!” The portal yawned wide at once and Kasim went within and saw the piles of jewels and treasures lying ranged all around; and, as soon as he stood amongst them the door shut after him as wont to do. He walked about in ecstasy marvelling at the treasures, and when weary of admiration he gathered together bags of Ashrafis, a sufficient load for his ten mules, and placed them by the entrance in readiness to be carried outside and set upon the beasts. But by the will of Allah Almighty he had clean forgotten the cabalistic words and cried out, “Open, O Barley!” whereat the door refused to move. Astonished and confused beyond measure he named the names of all manner of grains save sesame, which had slipped from his memory as though he had never heard the word; whereat in his dire distress he heeded not the Ashrafis that lay heaped at the entrance and paced to and fro, backwards and forwards, within the cave sorely puzzled and perplexed. The wealth whose sight had erewhile filled his heart with joy and gladness was now the cause of bitter grief and sadness. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Kasim gave up all hope of the life which he by his greed and envy had so sore imperilled. It came to pass that at noontide the robbers, returning by that way, saw from afar some mules standing beside the entrance and much they marvelled at what had brought the beasts to that place; for, inasmuch as Kasim by mischance had failed to tether or hobble them, they had strayed about the jungle and were browsing hither and thither. However, the thieves paid scant regard to the estrays nor cared they to secure them, but only wondered by what means they had wandered so far from the town. Then, reaching the cave the Captain and his troop dismounted and going up to the door repeated the formula and at once it flew open. Now Kasim had heard from within the cave the horse hooves drawing nigh and yet nigher; and he fell down to the ground in a fit of fear never doubting that it was the clatter of the banditti who would slaughter him without fail. Howbeit he presently took heart of grace and at the moment when the door flew open he rushed out hoping to make good his escape. But the unhappy ran full tilt against the Captain who stood in front of the band, and felled him to the ground; where upon a robber standing near his chief at once bared his brand and with one cut crave Kasim clean in twain. Thereupon the robbers rushed into the cavern, and put back as they were before the bags of Ashrafis which Kasim had heaped up at the doorway ready for taking away; nor recked they aught of those which Ali Baba had removed, so dazed and amazed were they to discover by what means the strange man had effected an entrance. All knew that it was not possible for any to drop through the skylights so tall and steep was the rock’s face, withal slippery of ascent; and also that none could enter by the portal unless he knew the magical words whereby to open it. However they presently quartered the dead body of Kasim and hung it to the door within the cavern, two parts to the right jamb and as many to the left295 that the sight might be a warning of approaching doom for all who dared enter the cave. Then coming out they closed the hoard door and rode away upon their wonted work. Now when night fell and Kasim came not home, his wife waxed uneasy in mind and running round to Ali Baba said, “O my brother, Kasim hath not returned: thou knowest whither he went, and sore I fear me some misfortune hath betided him.” Ali Baba also divined that a mishap had happened to prevent his return; not the less, however, he strove to comfort his sister-in-law with words of cheer and said, “O wife of my brother, Kasim haply exerciseth discretion and, avoiding the city, cometh by a roundabout road and will be here anon. This, I do believe, is the reason why he tarrieth.” Thereupon comforted in spirit Kasim’s wife fared homewards and sat awaiting her husband’s return; but when half the night was spent and still he came not, she was as one distraught. She feared to cry aloud for her grief, lest haply the neighbours hearing her should come and learn the secret; so she wept in silence and upbraiding herself fell to thinking, “Wherefore did I disclose this secret to him and beget envy and jealousy of Ali Baba? this be the fruit thereof and hence the disaster that hath come down upon me.” She spent the rest of the night in bitter tears and early on the morrow tried in hottest hurry to Ali Baba and prayed that he would go forth in quest of his brother; so he strove to console her and straightway set out with his asses for the forest. Presently, reaching the rock he wondered to see stains of blood freshly shed and not finding his brother or the ten mules he forefelt a calamity from so evil a sign. He then went to the door and saying, “Open, O Simsim!” he pushed in and saw the dead body of Kasim, two parts hanging to the right, and the rest to the left of the entrance. Albeit he was affrighted beyond measure of affright he wrapped the quarters in two cloths and laid them upon one of his asses, hiding them care fully with sticks and fuel that none might see them. Then he placed the bags of gold upon the two other animals and likewise covered them most carefully; and, when all was made ready he closed the cave door with the magical words, and set him forth wending homewards with all ward and watchfulness. The asses with the load of Ashrafis he made over to his wife and bade her bury the bags with diligence; but he told her not the condition in which he had come upon his brother Kasim. Then he went with the other ass, to wit, the beast whereon was laid the corpse to the widow’s house and knocked gently at the door. Now Kasim had a slave-girl shrewd and sharp witted, Morgiana296 highs. She as softly undid the bolt and admitted Ali Baba and the ass into the courtyard of the house, when he let down the body from the beast’s back and said, “O Morgiana, haste thee and make thee ready to perform the rites for the burial of thy lord: I now go to tell the tidings to thy mistress and I will quickly return to help thee in this matter.” At that instant Kasim’s widow seeing her brother in law, exclaimed, “O Ali Baba, what news bringest thou of my spouse? Alas, I see grief tokens written upon thy countenance. Say quickly what hath happened.” Then he recounted to her how it had fared with her husband and how he had been slain by the robbers and in what wise he had brought home the dead body. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazed held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba pursued: “O my lady, what was to happen hath happened but it behoveth us to keep this matter secret, for that our lives depend upon privacy.” She wept with sore weeping and made answer, “It hath fared with my husband according to the fiat of Fate; and now for thy safety’s sake I give thee my word to keep the affair concealed.” He replied, “Naught can avail when Allah hath decreed. Rest thee in patience; until the days of thy widow-hood297 be accomplisht”; after which time I will take thee to wife, and thou shalt live in comfort and happiness; and fear not lest my first spouse vex thee or show aught of jealousy, for that she is kindly and tender of heart.” The widow lamenting her loss noisily, cried, “Be it as e’en thou please.” Then Ali Baba farewelled her, weeping and wailing for her husband; and joining Morgiana took counsel with her how to manage the burial of his brother. So, after much consultation and many warnings, he left the slave-girl and departed home driving his ass before him. As soon as Ali Baba had fared forth Morgiana went quickly to a druggist’s shop; and, that she might the better dissemble with him and not make known the matter, she asked of him a drug often administered to men when diseased with dangerous dis-temper. He gave it saying, “Who is there in thy house that lieth so ill as to require this medicine?” and said she, “My Master Kasim is sick well nigh unto death: for many days he hath nor spoken nor tasted aught of food, so that almost we despair of his life.” Next day Morgiana went again and asked the druggist for more of medicine and essences such as are adhibited to the sick when at door of death, that the moribund may haply rally before the last breath. The man gave the potion and she taking it sighed aloud and wept, saying’ “I fear me he may not have strength to drink this draught: methinks all will be over with him ere I return to the house.” Meanwhile Ali Baba was anxiously awaiting to hear sounds of wailing and lamentation in Kasim’s home that he might at such signal hasten thither and take part in the ceremonies of the funeral. Early on the second day Morgiana went with veiled face to one Bábá Mustafá,298 a tailor well shotten in years whose craft was to make shrouds and cerecloths; and as soon as she saw him open his shop she gave him a gold piece and said, “Do thou bind a bandage over thine eyes and come along with me.” Mustafa made as though he would not go, whereat Morgiana placed a second gold coin in his palm and entreated him to accompany her. The tailor presently consented for greed of gain, so tying a kerchief tightly over his eyes she led him by the hand to the house wherein lay the dead body of her master. Then, taking off the bandage in the darkened room she bade him sew together the quarters of the corpse, limb to its limb; and, casting a cloth upon the body, said to the tailor “Make haste and sew a shroud according to the size of this dead man and I will give thee therefor yet another ducat.” Baba Mustafa quickly made the cerecloth of fitting length and breadth, and Morgiana paid him the promised Ashrafi; then once more bandaging his eyes led him back to the place whence she had brought him. After this she returned hurriedly home and with the help of Ali Baba washed the body in warm water and donning the shroud lay the corpse upon a clean place ready for burial. This done Morgiana went to the mosque and gave notice to an Imam299 that a funeral was awaiting the mourners in a certain household, and prayed that he would come to read the prayers for the dead; and the Imam went back with her. Then four neighbours took up the bier300 and bore it on their shoulders and fared forth with the Imam and others who were wont to give assistance at such obsequies. After the funeral prayers were ended four other men carried off the coffin; and Morgiana walked before it bare of head, striking her breast and weeping and wailing with exceeding loud lament, whilst Ali Baba and the neighbours came behind. In such order they entered the cemetery and buried him; then, leaving him to Munkar and Nakir301 the Questioners of the Dead all wended their ways. Presently the women of the quarter, according to the custom of the city, gathered together in the house of mourning and sat an hour with Kasim’s widow comforting and condoling, presently leaving her somewhat resigned and cheered. Ali Baba stayed forty days at home in ceremonial lamentation for the loss of his brother; so none within the town save himself and his wife (Kasim’s widow) and Morgiana knew aught about the secret. And when the forty days of mourning were ended Ali Baba removed to his own quarters all the property belonging to the deceased and openly married the widow; then he appointed his nephew, his brother’s eldest son, who had lived a long time with a wealthy merchant and was perfect of knowledge in all matters of trade, such as selling and buying, to take charge of the defunct’s shop and to carry on the business. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, it so chanced one day when the robbers, as was their wont, came to the treasure-cave that they marvelled exceedingly to find nor sign nor trace of Kasim’s body whilst they observed that much of gold had been carried off. Quoth the Captain, “Now it behoveth us to make enquiry in this matter; else shall we suffer much of loss and this our treasure, which we and our forefathers have amassed during the course of many years, will little by little be wasted and spoiled.” Hereto all assented and with single mind agreed that he whom they had slain had knowledge of the magical words whereby the door was made to open; moreover that some one beside him had cognizance the spell and had carried off the body, and also much of gold; wherefore they needs must make diligent research and find out who the man ever might be. They then took counsel and determined that one amongst them, who should be sagacious and deft of wit, must don the dress of some merchant from foreign parts; then, repairing to the city he must go about from quarter to quarter and from street to street, and learn if any townsman had lately died and if so where he wont to dwell, that with this clue they might be enabled to find the wight they sought. Hereat said one of the robbers, “Grant me leave that I fare and find out such tidings in the town and bring thee word a; and if I fail of my purpose I hold my life in forfeit.” Accordingly that bandit, after disguising himself by dress, pushed at night into the town and next morning early he repaired to the market square and saw that none of the shops had yet been opened, save only that of Baba Mustafa the tailor, who thread and needle in hand sat upon his working stool. The thief bade him good day and said, “ ’Tis yet dark: how canst thou see to sew?” Said the tailor, “I perceive thou art a stranger. Despite my years my eyesight is so keen that only yesterday I sewed together a dead body whilst sitting in a room quite darkened.” Quoth the bandit thereupon to himself, “I shall get somewhat of my want from this snip;” and to secure a further clue he asked, “Meseemeth thou wouldst jest with me and thou meanest that a cerecloth for a corpse was stitched by thee and that thy business is to sew shrouds.” Answered the tailor, “It mattereth not to thee: question me no more questions.” Thereupon the robber placed an Ashrafi in his hand and continued, “I desire not to discover aught thou hidest, albeit my breast like every honest man’s is the grave of secrets; and this only would I learn of thee, in what house didst thou do that job? Canst thou direct me thither, or thyself conduct me thereto?” The tailor took the gold with greed and cried, “I have not seen with my own eyes the way to that house. A certain bondswoman led me to a place which I know right well and there she bandaged my eyes and guided me to some tenement and lastly carried me into a darkened room where lay the dead body dismembered. Then she unbound the kerchief and bade me sew together first the corpse and then the shroud, which having done she again blindfolded me and led me back to the stead whence she had brought me and left me there. Thou seest then I am not able to tell thee where thou shalt find the house.” Quoth the robber, “Albeit thou knowest not the dwelling whereof thou speakest, still canst thou take me to the place where thou west blindfolded; then I will bind a kerchief over thine eyes and lead thee as thou west led: on this wise per chance thou mayest hit upon the site. An thou wilt do this favour by me, see here another golden ducat is thine.” There upon the bandit slipped a second Ashrafi into the tailor’s palm, and Baba Mustafa thrust it with the first into his pocket; then, leaving his shop as it was, he walked to the place where Morgiana had tied the kerchief around his eyes, and with him went the robber who, after binding on the bandage, led him by the hand. Baba Mustafa, who was clever and keen-witted, presently striking the street whereby he had fared with the handmaid, walked on counting step by step; then, halting suddenly, he said, “Thus far I came with her;” and the twain stopped in front of Kasim’s house wherein now dwelt his brother Ali Baba. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the robber then made marks with white chalk upon the door to the end that he might readily find it at some future time, and removing the bandage from the tailor’s eyes said, “O Baba Mustafa, I thank thee for this favour: and Almighty Allah guerdon thee for thy goodness. Tell me now, I pray thee, who dwelleth in yonder house?” Quoth he, “In very sooth I wot not, for I have little knowledge concerning this quarter of the city;” and the bandit, understanding that he could find no further clue from the tailor, dismissed him to his shop with abundant thanks, and hastened back to the tryst place in the jungle where the band awaited his coming. Not long after it so fortuned that Morgiana, going out upon some errand, marvelled exceedingly at seeing the chalk-marks showing white in the door; she stood awhile deep in thought and presently divined that some enemy had made the signs that he might recognize the house and play some sleight upon her lord. She therefore chalked the doors of all her neighbours in like manner and kept the matter secret, never entrusting it or to master or to mistress. Meanwhile the robber told his comrades his tale of adventure and how he had found the clue; so the Captain and with him all the band went one after other by different ways till they entered the city; and he who had placed the mark on Ali Baba’s door accompanied the Chief to point out the place. He conducted him straightway to the house and strewing the sign exclaimed, “Here dwelleth he of whom we are in search!” But when the Captain looked around him he saw that all the dwellings bore chalk-marks after like fashion and he wondered saying, “By what manner of means knowest thou which house of all these houses that bear similar signs is that whereof thou spakest?” Hereat the robber-guide was confounded beyond measure of confusion, and could make no answer; then with an oath he cried, “I did assuredly set a sign upon a door, but I know not whence came all the marks upon the other entrances; nor can I say for a surety which it was I chalked.” Thereupon the Captain returned to the marketplace and said to his men, “We have toiled and laboured in vain, nor have we found the house we went forth to seek. Return we now to the forest our rendezvous: I also will fare thither.” Then all trooped off and assembled together within the treasure-cave; and, when the robbers had all met, the Captain judged him worthy of punishment who had spoken falsely and had led them through the city to no purpose. So he imprisoned him in presence of them all;302 and then said he, “To him amongst you will I show special favour who shall go to town and bring me intelligence whereby we may lay hands upon the plunderer of our property.” Hereat another of the company came forward and said, “I am ready to go and enquire into the case, and ’tis I who will bring thee to thy wish.” The Captain after giving him presents and promises despatched him upon his errand; and by the decree of Destiny which none may gainsay, this second robber went first to the house of Baba Mustafa the tailor, as had done the thief who had foregone him. In like manner he also persuaded the snip with gifts of golden coin that he be led hood-winked and thus too he was guided to Ali Baba’s door. Here noting the work of his predecessor, he affixed to the jamb a mark with red chalk the better to distinguish it from the others whereon still showed the white. Then tried he back in stealth to his company; but Morgiana on her part also descried the red sign on the entrance and with subtle forethought marked all the others after the same fashion; nor told she any what she had done. Meanwhile the bandit rejoined his band and vauntingly said, “O our Captain, I have found the house and thereon put a mark whereby I shall distinguish it clearly from all its neighbours."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Captain despatched another of his men to the city and he found the place, but, as aforetime, when the troop repaired thither they saw each and every house marked with signs of red chalk. So they returned disappointed and the Captain, waxing displeased exceedingly and distraught, clapped also this spy into gaol. Then said the chief to himself, “Two men have failed in their endeavour and have met their rightful meed of punishment; and I trow that none other of my band will essay to follow up their research; so I myself will go and find the house of this wight.” Accordingly he fared along and aided by the tailor Baba Mustafa, who had gained much gain of golden pieces in this matter, he hit upon the house of Ali Baba; and here he made no outward show or sign, but marked it on the tablet303 of his heart and impressed the picture upon the page of his memory. Then returning to the jungle he said to his men, “I have full cognizance of the place and have limned it clearly in my mind; so now there will be no difficulty in finding it. Go forth straightways and buy me and bring hither nineteen mules together with one large leathern jar of mustard oil and seven and thirty vessels of the same kind clean empty. Without me and the two locked up in gaol ye number thirty-seven souls; so I will stow you away armed and accoutred each within his jar and will load two upon each mule, and upon the nineteenth mule there shall be a man in an empty jar on one side, and on the other the jar full of oil. I for my part, in guise of an oil-merchant, will drive the mules into the town, arriving at the house by night, and will ask permission of its master to tarry there until morning. After this we shall seek occasion during the dark hours to rise up and fall upon him and slay him.” Furthermore the Captain spake saying, “When we have made an end of him we shall recover the gold and treasure whereof he robbed us and bring it back upon the mules.” This counsel pleased the robbers who went forthwith and purchased mules and huge leathern jars, and did as the Captain had bidden them. And after a delay of three days shortly before nightfall they arose; and over smearing all the jars with oil of mustard, each hid him inside an empty vessel. The Chief then disguised himself in trader’s gear and placed the jars upon the nineteen mules; to wit, the thirty-seven vessels in each of which lay a robber armed and accoutred, and the one that was full of oil. This done, he drove the beasts before him and presently he reached Ali Baba’s place at nightfall; when it chanced that the house-master was strolling after supper to and fro in front of his home. The Captain saluted him with the salam and said, “I come from such and such a village with oil; and ofttimes have I been here a selling oil, but now to my grief I have arrived too late and I am sore troubled and perplexed as to where I shall spend the night. An thou have pity on me I pray thee grant that I tarry here in thy court yard and ease the mules by taking down the jars and giving the beasts somewhat of fodder.” Albeit Ali Baba had heard the Captain’s voice when perched upon the tree and had seen him enter the cave, yet by reason of the disguise he knew him not for the leader of the thieves, and granted his request with hearty welcome and gave him full license to halt there for the night. He then pointed out an empty shed wherein to tether the mules and bade one of the slave-boys go fetch grain and water. He also gave orders to the slave-girl Morgiana saying,” A guest hath come hither and tarrieth here to night. Do thou busy thyself with all speed about his supper and make ready the guest bed for him.” Presently, when the Captain had let down all the jars and had fed and watered his mules, Ali Baba received him with all courtesy and kindness, and summoning Morgiana said in his presence, “See thou fail not in service of this our stranger nor suffer him to lack for aught. To-morrow early I would fare to the Hammam and bathe; so do thou give my slave-boy Abdullah a suit of clean white clothes which I may put on after washing; moreover make thee ready a somewhat of broth overnight that I may drink it after my return home.” Replied she, “I will have all in readiness as thou hast bidden.” So Ali Baba retired to his rest, and the Captain, having supped, repaired to the shed and saw that all the mules had their food and drink for the night. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Captain, after seeing to the mules and the jars which Ali Baba and his household held to be full of oil, finding utter privacy, whispered to his men who were in ambush, “This night at midnight when ye hear my voice, do you quickly open with your sharp knives the leathern jars from top to bottom and issue forth without delay.” Then passing through the kitchen he reached the chamber wherein a bed had been dispread for him, Morgiana showing the way with a lamp. Quoth she, “An thou need aught beside I pray thee command this thy slave who is ever ready to obey thy say!” He made answer, “Naught else need I;” then, putting out the light, he lay him down on the bed to sleep awhile ere the time came to rouse his men and finish off the work. Meanwhile Morgiana did as her master had bidden her: she first took out a suit of clean white clothes and made it over to Abdullah who had not yet gone to rest; then she placed the pipkin upon the hearth to boil the broth and blew the fire till it burnt briskly. After a short delay she needs must see an the broth be boiling, but by that time all the lamps had gone out and she found that the oil was spent and that nowhere could she get a light. The slave-boy Abdullah observed that she was troubled and perplexed hereat, and quoth he to her, “Why make so much ado? In yonder shed are many jars of oil: go now and take as much soever as thou listest.” Morgiana gave thanks to him for his suggestion; and Abdullah, who was lying at his ease in the hall, went off to sleep so that he might wake betimes and serve Ali Baba in the bath. So the hand-maiden rose304 and with oil-can in hand walked to the shed where stood the leathern jars all ranged in rows. Now, as she drew nigh unto one of the vessels, the thief who was hidden therein hearing the tread of footsteps bethought him that it was of his Captain whose summons he awaited; so he whispered, “Is it now time for us to sally forth?” Morgiana started back affrighted at the sound of human accents; but, inasmuch as she was bold and ready of wit, she replied, “The time is not yet come,” and said to herself, These jars are not full of oil and herein I perceive a manner of mystery. Haply the oil-merchant hatcheth some treacherous plot against my lord; so Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate, protect us from his snares!” Wherefore she answered in a voice made like to the Captain’s, “Not yet, the time is not come. Then she went to the next jar and returned the same reply to him who was within, and so on to all the vessels one by one. Then said she in herself, “Laud to the Lord! my master took this fellow in believing him to be an oil-merchant, but lo, he hath admitted a band of robbers, who only await the signal to fall upon him and plunder the place and do him die.” Then passed she on to the furthest jar and finding it brimming with oil, filled her can, and returning to the kitchen, trimmed the lamp and lit the wicks; then, bringing forth a large cauldron, she set it upon the fire, and filling it with oil from out the jar heaped wood upon the hearth and fanned it to a fierce flame the readier to boil its contents. When this was done she baled it out in potfuls and poured it seething hot into the leathern vessels one by one while the thieves unable to escape were scalded to death and every jar contained a corpse.305 Thus did this slave-girl by her subtle wit make a clean end of all noiselessly and unknown even to the dwellers in the house. Now when she had satisfied herself that each and every of the men had been slain, she went back to the kitchen and shutting to the door sat brewing Ali Baba’s broth. Scarce had an hour passed before the Captain woke from sleep; and, opening wide his window, saw that all was dark and silent; so he clapped his hands as a signal for his men to come forth but not a sound was heard in return. After awhile he clapped again and called aloud but got no answer; and when he cried out a third time without reply he was perplexed and went out to the shed wherein stood the jars. He thought to himself, “Perchance all are fallen asleep whenas the time for action is now at hand, so I must e’en awaken them without stay or delay.” Then approaching the nearest jar he was startled by a smell of oil and seething flesh; and touching it outside he felt it reeking hot; then going to the others one by one, he found all in like condition. Hereat he knew for a surety the fate which had betided his band and, fearing for his own safety, he clomb on to the wall, and thence dropping into a garden made his escape in high dudgeon and sore disappointment. Morgiana awaited awhile to see the Captain return from the shed but he came not; whereat she knew that he had scaled the wall and had taken to flight, for that the street-door was double locked; and the thieves being all disposed of on this wise Morgiana laid her down to sleep in perfect solace and ease of mind. When two hours of darkness yet remained, Ali Baba awoke and went to the Hammam knowing naught of the night adventure, for the gallant slave-girl had not aroused him, nor indeed had she deemed such action expedient, because had she sought an opportunity of reporting to him her plan, she might haply have lost her chance and spoiled the project. The sun was high over the horizon when Ali Baba walked back from the Baths; and he marvelled exceedingly to see the jars still standing under the shed and said, “How cometh it that he, the oil-merchant my guest, hath not carried to the market his mules and jars of oil?"— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba presently asked Morgiana what had befallen the oil-merchant his guest whom he had placed under her charge; and she answered, “Allah Almighty vouchsafe to thee six score years and ten of safety! I will tell thee in privacy of this merchant.” So Ali Baba went apart with his slave-girl, who taking him with out the house first locked the court-door; then showing him a jar she said, “Prithee look into this and see if within there be oil or aught else.” Thereupon peering inside it he perceived a man at which sight he cried aloud and fain would have fled in his fright. Quoth Morgiana, “Pear him not, this man hath no longer the force to work thee harm, he lieth dead and stone dead.” Hearing such words of comfort and reassurance Ali Baba asked “O Morgiana, what evils have we escaped and by what means hath this wretch become the quarry of Fate?” She answered “Alhamdolillah -Praise be to Almighty Allah!- I will inform thee fully of the case; but hush thee, speak not aloud, lest haply the neighbours learn the secret and it end in our confusion. Look now into all the jars, one by one from first to last.” So Ali Baba examined them severally and found in each a man fully armed and accoutred and all lay scalded to death. Hereat speechless for sheer amazement he stared at the jars, but presently re covering himself he asked, “And where is he, the oil-merchant?” Answered she, “Of him also I will inform thee. The villain was no trader but a traitorous assassin whose honied words would have ensnared thee to thy doom; and now I will tell thee what he was and what hath happened; but, meanwhile thou art fresh from the Hammam and thou shouldst first drink somewhat of this broth for thy stomach’s and thy health’s sake.” So Ali Baba went within and Morgiana served up the mess; after which quoth her master, “I fain would hear this wondrous story: prithee tell it to me and set my heart at ease.” Hereat the handmaid fell to relating whatso had betided in these words, “O my master, when thou badest me boil the broth and retiredst to rest, thy slave in obedience to thy command took out a suit of clean white clothes and gave it to the boy Abdullah; then kindled the fire and set on the broth. As soon as it was ready I had need to light a lamp so that I might see to skim it, but all the oil was spent, and, learning this I told my want to the slave-boy Abdullah, who advised me to draw somewhat from the jars which stood under the shed. Accordingly, I took a can and went to the first vessel when suddenly I heard a voice within whisper with all caution, ‘Is it now time for us to sally forth?’ I was amazed thereat and judged that the pretended merchant had laid some plot to slay thee; so I replied, ‘The time is not yet come.’ Then I went to the second jar and heard another voice to which I made the like answer, and so on with all of them. I now was certified that these men awaited only some signal from their Chief whom thou didst take to guest within thy walls supposing him to be a merchant in oil; and that after thou receivedst him hospitably the miscreant had brought these men to murther thee and to plunder thy good and spoil thy house. But I gave him no opportunity to win his wish. The last jar I found full of oil and taking somewhat therefrom I lit the lamp; then, putting a large cauldron upon the fire, I filled it up with oil which I brought from the jar and made a fierce blaze under it; and, when the contents were seething hot, I took out sundry cansful with intent to scald them all to death, and going to each jar in due order, I poured within them one by one boiling oil. On this wise having destroyed them utterly, I returned to the kitchen and having extinguished the lamps stood by the window watching what might happen, and how that false merchant would act next. Not long after I had taken my station, the robber captain awoke and oft-times signalled to his thieves. Then getting no reply he came downstairs and went out to the jars, and finding that all his men were slain he fled through the darkness I know not whither. So when he had clean disappeared I was assured that, the door being double locked, he had scaled the wall and dropped into the garden and made his escape. Then with my heart at rest I slept.” And Morgiana, after telling her story to her master, presently added, “This is the whole truth I have related to thee. For some days indeed have I had inkling of such matter, but withheld it from thee deeming it inexpedient to risk the chance of its meeting the neighbours’ ears; now, however, there is no help but to tell thee thereof. One day as I came to the house-door I espied thereon a white chalk-mark, and on the next day a red sign beside the white. I knew not the intent wherewith the marks were made, nevertheless I set others upon the entrances of sundry neighbours, judging that some enemy had done this deed whereby to encompass my master’s destruction. Therefore I made the marks on all the other doors in such perfect conformity with those I found, that it would be hard to distinguish amongst them."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Morgiana continued to Ali Baba: “Judge now and see if these signs and all this villainy be not the work of the bandits of the forest, who marked our house that on such wise they might know it again. Of these forty thieves there yet remain two others concerning whose case I know naught; so beware of them, but chiefly of the third remaining robber, their Captain, who fled hence alive. Take good heed and be thou cautious of him, for, shouldst thou fall into his hands, he will in no wise spare thee but will surely murther thee. I will do all that lieth in me to save from hurt and harm thy life and property, nor shall thy slave be found wanting in any service to my lord.” Hearing these words Ali Baba rejoiced with exceeding joyance and said to her, “I am well pleased with thee for this thy conduct; and say me what wouldst thou have me do in thy behalf; I shall not fail to remember thy brave deed so long as breath in me remaineth.” Quoth she, “It behoveth us before all things forthright to bury these bodies in the ground, that so the secret be not known to any one.” Hereupon Ali Baba took with him his slave-boy Abdullah into the garden and there under a tree they dug for the corpses of the thieves a deep pit in size proportionate to its contents, and they dragged the bodies (having carried off their weapons) to the fosse and threw them in; then, covering up the remains of the seven and thirty robbers they made the ground appear level and clean as it wont to be. They also hid the leathern jars and the gear and arms and presently Ali Baba sent the mules by ones and twos to the bazar and sold them all with the able aid of his slave-boy Abdullah. Thus the matter was hushed up nor did it reach the ears of any; Ali Baba ceased not to be ill at ease lest haply the Captain or the surviving two robbers should wreak their vengeance on his head. He kept himself private with all caution and took heed that none learn a word of what happened and of the wealth which he had carried off from the bandits’ cave. Meanwhile the Captain of the thieves having escaped with his life, fled to the forest in hot wrath and sore irk of mind, and his senses were scattered and the colour of his visage vanished like ascending smoke. Then he thought the matter over again and again, and at last he firmly resolved that he needs must take the life of Ali Baba, else he would lose all the treasure which his enemy, by knowledge of the magical words, would take away and turn to his own use. Furthermore, he determined that he would undertake the business singlehanded; and, that after getting rid of Ali Baba, he would gather together another band of banditti and would pursue his career of brigandage, as indeed his forbears had done for many generations. So he lay down to rest that night, and rising early in the morning donned a dress of suitable appearance; then going to the city alighted at a caravanserai, thinking to himself, “Doubtless the murther of so many men hath reached the Wali’s ears, and Ali Baba hath been seized and brought to justice, and his house is levelled and his good is confiscated. The townfolk must surely have heard tidings of these matters.” So he straightway asked of the keeper of the Khan, “What strange things have happened in the city during the last few days?” and the other told him all that he had seen and heard, but the Captain could not learn a whit of that which most concerned him. Hereby he understood that Ali Baba was ware and wise, and that he had not only carried away such store of treasure but he had also destroyed so many lives and withal had come off scatheless; furthermore, that he himself must needs have all his wits alert not to fall into the hands of his foe and perish. With this resolve the Captain hired a shop in the Bazar, whither he bore whole bales of the finest stuffs and goodly merchandise from his forest treasure house; and presently he took his seat within the store and fell to doing merchant’s business. By chance his place fronted the booth of the defunct Kasim where his son, Ali Baba’s nephew, now traded; and the Captain, who called himself Khwajah Hasan, soon formed acquaintance and friendship with the shop keepers around about him and treated all with profuse civilities, but he was especially gracious and cordial to the son of Kasim, a handsome youth and a well-dressed, and oft-times he would sit and chat with him for a long while. A few days after it chanced that Ali Baba, as he was sometimes wont to do, came to see his nephew, whom he found sitting in his shop. The Captain saw and recognised him at sight and one morning he asked the young man, saying, “Prithee tell me, who is he that ever and anon cometh to thee at thy place of sale?” whereto the youth made answer, “He is my uncle, the brother of my father.” Whereupon the Captain showed him yet greater favour and affection the better to deceive him for his own devices, and gave him presents and made him sit at meat with him and fed him with the daintiest of dishes. Presently Ali Baba’s nephew bethought him it was only right and proper that he also should invite the merchant to supper, but whereas his own house was small, and he was straitened for room and could not make a show of splendour, as did Khwajah Hasan, he took counsel with his uncle on the matter. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba replied to his nephew: “Thou sayest well: it behoveth thee to entreat thy friend in fairest fashion even as he hath entreated thee. On the morrow, which is Friday, shut thy shop as do all merchants of repute; then, after the early meal, take Khwajah Hasan to smell the air,306 and as thou walkest lead him hither unawares; meanwhile I will give orders that Morgiana shall make ready for his coming the best of viands and all necesseries for a feast. Trouble not thyself on any wise, but leave the matter in my hands.” Accordingly on the next day, to wit, Friday, the nephew of Ali Baba took Khwajah Hasan to walk about the garden; and, as they were returning he led him by the street wherein his uncle dwelt. When they came to the house the youth stopped at the door and knocking said, “O my lord, this is my second home: my uncle hath heard much of thee and of thy goodness me-wards and desireth with exceeding desire to see thee; so, shouldst thou consent to enter and visit him, I shall be truly glad and thankful to thee.” Albeit Khwajah Hasan rejoiced in heart that he had thus found means whereby he might have access to his enemy’s house and household, and although he hoped soon to attain his end by treachery, yet he hesitated to enter in and stood to make his excuses and walk away But when the door was opened by the slave-porter, Ali Baba’s nephew seized his companion’s hand and after abundant persuasion led him in, whereat he entered with great show of cheerfulness as though much pleased and honoured. The house-master received him with all favour and worship and asked him of his welfare, and said to him “O my lord, I am obliged and thankful to thee for that thou hast strewn favour to the son of my brother and I perceive that thou regardest him with an affection even fonder than my own.” Khwajah Hasan replied with pleasant words and said, “Thy nephew vastly taketh my fancy and in him I am well pleased, for that although young in years yet he hath been endued by Allah with much of wisdom.” Thus they twain conversed with friendly conversation and presently the guest rose to depart and said, “O my lord, thy slave must now farewell thee; but on some future day — Inshallah he will again wait upon thee.” Ali Baba, however, would not let him leave and asked, “Whither wendest thou, O my friend? I would invite thee to my table and I pray thee sit at meat with us and after hie thee home in peace. Perchance the dishes are not as delicate as those whereof thou art wont to eat, still deign grant me this request I pray thee and refresh thyself with my victual.” Quoth Khwajah Hasan, “O my lord I am beholden to thee for thy gracious invitation, and with pleasure would I sit at meat with thee, but for a special reason must I needs excuse myself; suffer me therefore to depart for I may not tarry longer nor accept thy gracious offer.” Hereto the host made reply, “I pray thee, O my lord, tell me what may be the reason so urgent and weighty?” And Khwajah Hasan answered, “The cause is this: I must not, by order of the physician, who cured me lately of my complaint, eat aught of food prepared with salt.” Quoth Ali Baba, “An this be all, deprive me not, I pray thee, of the honour thy company will confer upon me: as the meats are not yet cooked, I will forbid the kitchener to make use of any salt. Tarry here awhile and I will return anon to thee.” So saying Ali Baba went in to Morgiana and bade her not put salt into any one of the dishes; and she, while busied with her cooking, fell to marvelling greatly at such order and asked her master, “Who is he that eateth meat wherein is no salt?” He answered, “What to thee mattereth it who he may be? only do thou my bidding.” She rejoined, “ ’Tis well: all shall be as thou wishest;” but in mind she wondered at the man who made such strange request and desired much to look upon him. Wherefore, when all the meats were ready for serving up, she helped the slave-boy Abdullah to spread the table and set on the meal; and no sooner did she see Khwajah Hasan than she knew who he was, albeit he had disguised himself in the dress of a stranger merchant; furthermore, when she eyed him attentively she espied a dagger hidden under his robe. “So ho!” quoth she to herself, “this is the cause why the villain eateth not of salt, for that he seeketh an opportunity to slay my master whose mortal enemy he is; howbeit I will be beforehand with him and despatch him ere he find a chance to harm my lord."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Morgiana, having spread a white cloth upon the table and served up the meal, went back to the kitchen and thought out her plot against the robber Captain. Now when Ali Baba and Khwajah Hasan had eaten their sufficiency, the slave-boy Abdullah brought Morgiana word to serve the dessert, and she cleared the table and set on fruit fresh and dried in salvers, then she placed by the side of Ali Baba a small tripod for three cups with a flagon of wine, and lastly she went off with the slave-boy Abdullah into another room, as though she would herself eat supper. Then Khwajah Hasan, that is, the Captain of the robbers, perceiving that the coast was clear, exulted mightily saying to himself, “The time hath come for me to take full vengeance; with one thrust of my dagger I will despatch this fellow, then escape across the garden and wend my ways. His nephew will not adventure to stay my hand, for an he do but move a finger or toe with that intent another stab will settle his earthly account. Still must I wait awhile until the slave-boy and the cook-maid shall have eaten and lain down to rest them in the kitchen.” Morgiana, however, watched him wistfully and divining his purpose said in her mind, “I must not allow this villain advantage over my lord, but by some means I must make void his project and at once put an end to the life of him.” Accordingly, the trusty slave-girl changed her dress with all haste and donned such clothes as dancers wear; she veiled her face with a costly kerchief; around her head she bound a fine turband, and about her middle she tied a waist cloth worked with gold and silver wherein she stuck a dagger, whose hilt was rich in filigree and jewelry. Thus disguised she said to the slave-boy Abdullah, “Take now thy tambourine that we may play and sing and dance in honour of our master’s guest.” So he did her bidding and the twain went into the room, the lad playing and the lass following. Then, making a low congée, they asked leave to perform and disport and play; and Ali Baba gave permission, saying, “Dance now and do your best that this our guest may be mirthful and merry.” Quoth Khwajah Hasan, “O my lord, thou dost indeed provide much pleasant entertainment.” Then the slave-boy Abdullah standing by began to strike the tambourine whilst Morgiana rose up and showed her perfect art and pleased them vastly with graceful steps and sportive motion; and suddenly drawing the poniard from her belt she brandished it and paced from side to side, a spectacle which pleased them most of all. At times also she stood before them, now clapping the sharp-edged dagger under her armpit and then setting it against her breast. Lastly she took the tambourine from the slave-boy Abdullah, and still holding the poniard in her right she went round for largesse as is the custom amongst merry makers. First she stood before Ali Baba who threw a gold coin into the tambourine, and his nephew likewise put in an Ashrafi; then Khwajah Hasan, seeing her about to approach him, fell to pulling out his purse, when she heartened her heart and quick as the blinding levee she plunged the dagger into his vitals, and forthwith the miscreant fell back stone dead. Ali Baba was dismayed and cried in his wrath, “O unhappy, what is this deed thou hast done to bring about my ruin!” But she replied, “Nay, O my lord, rather to save thee and not to cause thee harm have I slain this man: loosen his garments and see what thou wilt discover thereunder.” So Ali Baba searched the dead man’s dress and found concealed therein a dagger. Then said Morgiana, “This wretch was thy deadly enemy. Consider him well: he is none other than the oil-merchant, the Captain of the band of robbers. Whenas he came hither with intent to take thy life, he would not eat thy salt; and when thou toldest me that he wished not any in the meat I suspected him and at first sight I was assured that he would surely do thee die; Almighty Allah be praised ’tis even as I thought.” Then Ali Baba lavished upon her thanks and expressions of gratitude, saying, “Lo, these two times hast thou saved me from his hand,” and falling upon her neck he cried, “See thou art free, and as reward for this thy fealty I have wedded thee to my nephew.” Then turning to the youth he said, “Do as I bid thee and thou shalt prosper. I would that thou marry Morgiana, who is a model of duty and loyalty: thou seest now yon Khwajah Hasan sought thy friendship only that he might find opportunity to take my life, but this maiden with her good sense and her wisdom hath slain him and saved us.” And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba’s nephew straightway consented to marry Morgiana. After which the three, raising the dead body bore it forth with all heed and vigilance and privily buried it in the garden, and for many years no one knew aught thereof. In due time Ali Baba married his brother’s son to Morgiana with great pomp, and spread a bride-feast in most sumptuous fashion for his friends and neighbours, and made merry with them and enjoyed singing and all manner of dancing and amusements. He prospered in every undertaking and Time smiled upon him and a new source of wealth was opened to him. For fear of the thieves he had not once visited the jungle-cave wherein lay the treasure, since the day he had carried forth the corpse of his brother Kasim. But some time after, he mounted his hackney one morning and journeyed thither, with all care and caution, till finding no signs of man or horse, and reassured in his mind he ventured to draw near the door. Then alighting from his beast he tied it up to a tree, and going to the entrance pronounced the words which he had not forgotten, “Open, O Simsim!” Hereat, as was its wont, the door flew open, and entering thereby he saw the goods and hoard of gold and silver untouched and lying as he had left them. So he felt assured that not one of all the thieves remained alive, and, that save himself there was not a soul who knew the secret of the place. At once he bound in his saddle-cloth a load of Ashrafis such as his horse could bear and brought it home; and in after days he showed the hoard to his sons and sons’ sons and taught them how the door could be caused to open and shut. Thus Ali Baba and his household lived all their lives in wealth and joyance in that city where erst he had been a pauper, and by the blessing of that secret treasure he rose to high degree and dignities. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then by the command of King Shahryar Queen Shahrazad began to tell in these words the story of
289 Mr. Coote ( loc. cit. p. 185) is unable to produce a puramythe containing all of “Ali Bába;” but, for the two leading incidents he quotes from Prof. Sakellarios two tales collected in Cyprus One is Morgiana marking the village doors (p. 187), which has occurred doubtless a hundred times. The other, in the “Story of Drakos,” is an ogre, hight “Three Eyes,” who attempts the rescue of his wife with a party of blackamoors packed in bales and these are all discovered and slain.
290 Dans la forêt, says Galland.
291 Or “Samsam,” The grain = Sesamum Orientale: hence the French, Sesame, ouvre-toi! The term is cabalistical, like Súlem, Súlam or Shúlam in the Directorium Vitæ Humanæ of Johannes di Capuâ: Inquit vir: Ibam in nocte plenilunii et ascendebam super domum ubi furari intendebam, et accedens ad fenestram ubi radii lune ingrediebantur, et dicebam hanc coniurationem, scilicet sulem sulem, septies, deinde amplectebar lumen lune et sine lesione descendebam ad domum, etc. (pp. 24-25) par Joseph Derenbourg, Membre de l’Institut 1re Fascicule, Paris, F. Vieweg, 67, Rue de Richelieu, 1887.
292 In the text “Jatháni” = the wife of an elder brother. Hindostani, like other Eastern languages, is rich in terms for kinship whereof English is so exceptionally poor. Mr. Francis Galtson, in his well-known work, “Hereditary Genius,” a misnomer by the by for “HeredTalent,” felt this want severely and was at pains to supply it.
293In the text “Thag,” our English “Thug,” often pronounced moreover by the Briton with the sibilant “th.” It means simply a cheat: you say to your servant “Tú bará Thag hai” = thou art a precious rascal; but it has also the secondary meaning of robber, assassin, and the tertiary of Bhawáni-worshippers who offer indiscriminate human sacrifices to the Deëss of Destruction. The word and the thing have been made popular in England through the “Confessions of a Thug” by my late friend Meadows Taylor; and I may record my conviction that were the English driven out of India, “Thuggee,” like piracy in Cutch and in the Persian Gulf, would revive at the shortest possible time.
294 i.e. the Civil Governor, who would want nothing better.
295This is in Galland and it is followed by the H. V.; but it would be more natural to suppose that of the quarters two were hung up outside the door and the others within. VOL. XIII
296 I am unwilling to alter the time honoured corruption: properly it is written Marjánah = the “Coralline,” from Marján = red coral, for which see vols. ii. 100; vii. 373.
297 i.e. the “ ‘Iddah.” during which she could not marry. See vol. iii. 292.
298 In Galland he is a savetier * * * naturellement gai, et qui avait toujours le mot pour rire: the H. V. naturally changed him to a tailor as the Chámár or leather-worker would be inadmissible to polite conversation.
299 i.e. a leader of prayer; the Pers. “Písh-namáz” = fore-prayer, see vols. ii. 203; iv. 111 and 227. Galland has “ímán,” which can mean only faith, belief, and in this blunder he is conscientiously followed by his translators — servum pecus
300 Galland nails down the corpse in the bier — a Christian practice — and he certainly knew better. Moreover, prayers for the dead are mostly recited over the bier when placed upon the brink of the grave; nor is it usual for a woman to play so prominent a part in the ceremony.
301 See vols. v. 111; ix. 163 and x. 47.
302 Galland is less merciful, ”Aussitôt le conducteur fut déclaré digne de mort tout d’une voix, et il s’y condamna lui-même,“ etc. The criminal, indeed, condemns himself and firmly offers his neck to be stricken.
303 In the text “Lauh,” for which see vol. v. 73.
304 In Arab. “Kama” = he rose, which, in vulgar speech especially in Egypt, = he began. So in Spitta-Bey’s “Contes Arabes Modernes” (p. 124) “Kámat al-Sibhah dhákat fi yad akhí-h” = the chaplet began (lit. arose) to wax tight in his brother’s hand. This sense is shadowed forth in classical Arabic.
305 So in old Arabian history “Kasír” (the Little One), the Arab Zopyrus, stows away in huge camel-bags the 2,000 warriors intended to surprise masterful Queen Zebba. Chronique de Tabarí, vol. ii., 26. Also the armed men in boxes by which Shamar, King of Al-Yaman, took Shamar-kand = Shamar’s -town, now Samarkand. (Ibid. ii. 158.)
306 i.e. for a walk, a “constitutional”: the phrase is very common in Egypt, and has occurred before.
Under the reign of Caliph Harun al-Rashid there dwelt in the city of Baghdad a certain merchant, ‘Alí Khwájah hight, who had a small stock of goods wherewith he bought and sold and made a bare livelihood, abiding alone and without a family in the house of her forbears. Now so it came to pass that each night for three nights together he saw in a vision a venerable Shaykh who bespake him thus, “Thou art beholden to make a pilgrimage to Meccah; why abidest thou sunk in heedless slumber and farest not forth as it behoveth thee?”307 Hearing these words he became sore startled and affrighted, so that he sold shop and goods and all that he had; and, with firm intent to visit the Holy House of Almighty Allah, he let his home on hire and joined a caravan that was journeying to Meccah the Magnified. But ere he left his natal city he placed a thousand gold pieces, which were over and above his need for the journey, within an earthen jar filled up with Asáfírí308 or Sparrow-olives; and, having made fast the mouth thereof, he carried the jar to a merchant-friend of many years standing and said, “Belike, O my brother, thou hast heard tell that I purpose going with a caravan on pilgrimage to Meccah, the Holy City; so I have brought a jar of olives the which, I pray thee, preserve for me in trust against my return.” The merchant at once arose and handing the key of his warehouse to Ali Khwajah said, “Here, take the key and open the store and therein place the jar anywhere thou choosest, and when thou shalt come back thou wilt find it even as thou leftest it.” Hereupon Ali Khwajah did his friend’s bidding and locking up the door returned the key to its master. Then loading his travelling goods upon a dromedary and mounting a second beast he fared forth with the caravan. They came at length to Meccah the Magnified, and it was the month Zú al-Hijjah wherein myriads of Moslems hie thither on pilgrimage and pray and prostrate before the Ka’abah-temple. And when he had circuited the Holy House and fulfilled all the rites and ceremonies required of palmers, he set up a shop for sale of merchandise.309 By chance two merchants passing along that street espied the fine stuffs and goods in Ali Khwajah’s booth and approved much of them and praised their beauty and excellence. Presently quoth one to other, “This man bringeth here most rare and costly goods: now in Cairo, the capital of Egypt-land would he get full value for them, and far more than in the markets of this city.” Hearing mention of Cairo, Ali Khwajah conceived a sore longing to visit that famous capital, so he gave up his intent of return Baghdad-wards and purposed wayfaring to Egypt. Accordingly he joined a caravan and arriving thither was well-pleased with the place, both country and city; and selling his merchandise he made great gain therefrom. Then buying other goods and stuffs he purposed to make Damascus; but for one full month he tarried at Cairo and visited her sanctuaries and saintly places and after leaving her walls he solaced himself with seeing many famous cities distant several days’ journey from the capital along the banks of the River Nilus. Presently, bidding adieu to Egypt he arrived at the Sanctified House,310 Jerusalem and prayed in the Temple of Banu Isra’íl which the Moslems had re-edified. In due time he reached Damascus and observed that the city was well builded and much peopled, and that the fields and meads were well-watered with springs and channels and that the gardens and vergiers were laden with flowers and fruits. Amid such delights Ali Khwajah hardly thought of Baghdad; withal he ceased not to pursue his journey through Aleppo, Mosul and Shiráz, tarrying some time at all of these towns, especially at Shiráz, till at length after seven years of wayfaring he came back to Baghdad. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— It behoveth thee now, O auspicious King, to hear of the Baghdad merchant and his lack of probity. For seven long years he never once thought of Ali Khwajah or of the trust committed to his charge; till one day as his wife sat at meat with him at the evening meal, their talk by chance was of olives. Quoth she to him, “I would now fain have some that I may eat of them;” and quoth he, “As thou speakest thereof I bethink me of that Ali Khwajah who seven years ago fared on a pilgrimage to Meccah, and ere he went left in trust with me a jar of Sparrow-olives which still cumbereth the store-house. Who knoweth where he is or what hath betided him? A man who lately returned with the Hajj-caravan brought me word that Ali Khwajah had quitted Meccah the Magnified with intent to journey on to Egypt. Allah Almighty alone knoweth an he be still alive or he be now dead; however, if his olives be in good condition I will go bring some hither that we may taste them: so give me a platter and a lamp that I may fetch thee somewhat of them.” His wife, an honest woman and an upright, made answer, “Allah forbid that thou shouldst do a deed so base and break thy word and covenant. Who can tell? Thou art not assured by any of his death; perchance he may come back from Egypt safe and sound tomorrow or the day after; then wilt thou, an thou cannot deliver unharmed to him what he hath left in pledge, be ashamed of this thy broken troth and we shall be disgraced before man and dishonoured in the presence of thy friend. I will not for my part have any hand in such meanness nor will I taste the olives; furthermore, it standeth not to reason that after seven years’ keeping they should be fit to eat. I do implore thee to forswear this ill purpose.” On such wise the merchant’s wife protested and prayed her husband that he meddle not with Ali Khwajah’s olives, and shamed him of his intent so that for the nonce he cast the matter from his mind. However, although the trader refrained that evening from taking Ali Khwajah’s olives, yet he kept the design in memory until one day when, of his obstinacy and unfaith, he resolved to carry out his project; and rising up walked towards the store-room dish in hand. By chance he met his wife who said, “I am no partner with thee in this ill-action: in very truth some evil shall befal thee an thou do such deed.” He heard her but heeded her not; and, going to the store-room opened the jar and found the olives spoiled and white with mould; but presently he tilted up the jar and pouring some of its contents into the dish, suddenly saw an Ashrafi fall from the vessel together with the fruit. Then, filled with greed, he turned out all that was within into another jar and wondered with exceeding wonder to find the lower half full of golden coins. Presently, putting up the moneys and the olives he closed the vessel and going back said to his wife, “Thou spakest sooth, for I have examined the jar and have found the fruit mouldy and foul of smell; wherefore I returned it to its place and left it as it was aforetime.” That night the merchant could not sleep a wink for thinking of the gold and how he might lay hands thereon; and when morning morrowed he took out all the Ashrafis and buying some fresh olives in the Bazar filled up the jar with them and closed the mouth and set it in its usual place. Now it came to pass by Allah’s mercy that at the end of the month Ali Khwajah returned safe and sound to Baghdad; and he first went to his old friend, to wit, the merchant who, greeting him with feigned joy, fell on his neck, but withal was sore troubled and perplexed at what might happen. After salutations and much rejoicing on either part Ali Khwajah bespake the merchant on business and begged that he might take back his jar of Asafiri-olives which he had placed in charge of his familiar. Quoth the merchant to Ali Khwajah, “O my friend, I wot not where thou didst leave thy jar of olives; but here is the key, go down to the store-house and take all that is thine own.” So Ali Khwajah did as he was bidden and carrying the jar from the magazine took his leave and hastened home; but, when he opened the vessel and found not the gold coins, he was distracted and overwhelmed with grief and made bitter lamentation. Then he returned to the merchant and said, “O my friend, Allah, the All-present and the All-seeing, be my witness that, when I went on my pilgrimage to Meccah the Magnified, I left a thousand Ashrafis in that jar, and now I find them not. Canst thou tell me aught concerning them? An thou in thy sore need have made use of them, it mattereth not so thou wilt give them back as soon as thou art able.” The merchant, apparently pitying him, said, “O good friend, thou didst thyself with thine hand set the jar inside the store-room. I wist not that thou hadst aught in it save olives; yet as thou didst leave it, so in like manner didst thou find it and carry it away; and now thou chargest me with theft of Ashrafis. It seemeth strange and passing strange that thou shouldst make such accusation. When thou wentest thou madest no mention of any money in the jar, but saidst that it was full of olives, even as thou hast found it. Hadst thou left gold coins therein, then surely thou wouldst have recovered them.” Hereupon Ali Khwajah begged hard with much entreaty, saying, “Those thousand Ashrafis were all I owned, the money earned by years of toil: I do beseech thee have pity on my case and give them back to me.” Replied the merchant, waxing wroth with great wrath, “O my friend, a fine fellow thou art to talk of honesty and withal make such false and lying charge. Begone: hie thee hence and come not to my house again; for now I know thee as thou art, a swindler and imposter.” Hearing this dispute between Ali Khwajah and the merchant all the people of the quarter came crowding to the shop. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the multitude which thronged about the merchant’s shop warmly took up the matter; and thus it became well known to all, rich and poor, within the city of Baghdad how that one Ali Khwajah had hidden a thousand Ashrafis within a jar of olives and had placed it on trust with a certain merchant; moreover how, after pilgrimaging to Meccah and seven years of travel the poor man had returned, and that the rich man had gainsaid his words anent the gold and was ready to make oath that he had not received any trust of the kind. At length, when naught else availed, Ali Khwajah was constrained to bring the matter before the Kazi, and to claim one thousand Ashrafis of his false friend. The Judge asked, “What witnesses hast thou who may speak for thee?” and the plantiff answered, “O my lord the Kazi, I feared to tell the matter to any man lest all come to know of my secret. Allah Almighty is my sole testimony. This merchant was my friend and I recked not that he would prove dishonest and unfaithful.” Quoth the Judge, “Then must I needs send for the merchant and hear what he saith on oath;” and when the defendant came they made him swear by all he deemed holy, facing Ka’abah-wards with hands uplifted, and he cried, “I swear that I know naught of any Ashrafis belonging to Ali Khwajah.”311 Hereat the Kazi pronounced him innocent and dismissed him from court; and Ali Khwajah went home sad at heart and said to himself, “Alas, what justice is this which hath been meted out to me, that I should lose my money, and my just cause be deemed unjust! It hath been truly said, ‘He loseth the lave who sueth before a knave.’ “ On the next day he drew out a statement of his case; and, as the Caliph Harun al-Rashid was on his way to Friday-prayers, he fell down on the ground before him and presented to him the paper. The Commander of the Faithful read the petition and having understood the case deigned give order saying, “To-morrow bring the accuser and the accused to the audience-hall and place the petition before my presence, for I myself will enquire into this matter.” That night the Prince of True Believers, as was his wont, donned disguise to walk about the squares of Baghdad and its streets and lanes and, accompanied by Ja’afar the Barmaki and Masrúr the Sworder of his vengeance, proceeded to espy what happened in the city. Immediately on issuing forth he came upon an open place in the Bazar when he heard the hubbub of children a-playing and saw at scanty distance some ten or dozen boys making sport amongst themselves in the moonlight; and he stopped awhile to watch their diversion. Then one amongst the lads, a goodly and a fair-complexioned, said to the others, “Come now and let us play the game of Kazi: I will be the Judge; let one of you be Ali Khwajah, and another the merchant with whom he placed the thousand Ashrafis in pledge before faring on his pilgrimage: so come ye before me and let each one plead his plea.” When the Caliph heard the name of Ali Khwajah he minded him of the petition which had been presented to him for justice against the merchant, and bethought him that he would wait and see how the boy would perform the part of Kazi in their game and upon what decision he would decide. So the Prince watched the mock-trial with keen interest saying to himself, “This case hath verily made such stir within the city that even the children know thereof and re-act it in their sports.” Presently, he amongst the lads who took the part of Ali Khwajah the plaintiff and his playmate who represented the merchant of Baghdad accused of theft, advanced and stood before the boy who as the Kazi sat in pomp and dignity. Quoth the Judge, “O Ali Khwajah, what is thy claim against this merchant?” and the complainant preferred his charge in a plea of full detail. Then said the Kazi to the boy who acted merchant, “What answerest thou to this complaint and why didst thou not return the gold pieces?” The accused made reply even as the real defendant had done and denied the charge before the Judge, professing himself ready to take oath thereto. Then said the boy-Kazi, “Ere thou swear on oath that thou hast not taken the money, I would fain see for myself the jar of olives which the plaintiff deposited with thee on trust.” Then turning to the boy who represented Ali Khwajah he cried, “Go thou and instantly produce the jar that I may inspect it.” And when the vessel was brought the Kazi said to the two contentious, “See now and say me: be this the very jar which thou, the plaintiff, leftest with the defendant?” and both answered that it was and the same. Then said the self-constituted Judge, “Open now the jar and bring hither some of the contents that I may see the state in which the Asafiri-olives actually are.” Then tasting of the fruit, “How is this? I find their flavour is fresh and their state excellent. Surely during the lapse of seven twelvemonths the olives would have become mouldy and rotten. Bring now before me two oil-merchants of the town that they may pass opinion upon them.” Then two other of the boys assumed the parts commanded and coming into court stood before the Kazi, who asked, “Are ye olive-merchants by trade?” They answered, “We are and this hath been our calling for many generations and in buying and selling olives we earn our daily bread.” Then said the Kazi, “Tell me now, how long do olives keep fresh and well-flavoured?” and said they, “O my lord, however carefully we keep them, after the third year they change flavour and colour and become no longer fit for food, in fact they are good only to be cast away.” Thereupon quoth the boy-Kazi, “Examine me now these olives that are in this jar and say me how old are they and what is their condition and savour."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the two boys who played the parts of oil-merchants pretended to take some berries from the jar and taste them and presently they said, “O our lord the Kazi, these olives are in fair condition and full-flavoured.” Quoth the Kazi, “Ye speak falsely, for ’tis seven years since Ali Khwajah put them in the jar as he was about to go a-pilgrimaging;” and quoth they, “Say whatso thou wilt those olives are of this year’s growth, and there is not an oil-merchant in all Baghdad but who will agree with us.” Moreover the accused was made to taste and smell the fruits and he could not but admit that it was even so as they had avouched. Then said the boy-Kazi to the boy-defendant, “ ’Tis clear thou art a rogue and a rascal, and thou hast done a deed wherefor thou richly deservest the gibbet.” Hearing this the children frisked about and clapped their hands with glee and gladness, then seizing hold of him who acted as the merchant of Baghdad, they led him off as to execution. The Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, was greatly pleased at this acuteness of the boy who had assumed the part of judge in the play, and commanded his Wazir Ja’afar saying, “Mark well the lad who enacted the Kazi in this mock-trial and see that thou produce him on the morrow: he shall try the case in my presence substantially and in real earnest, even as we have heard him deal with it in play. Summon also the Kazi of this city that he may learn the administration of justice from this child. Moreover send word to Ali Khwajah bidding him bring with him the jar of olives, and have also in readiness two oil-merchants of the town.” Thus as they walked along the Caliph gave orders to the Wazir and then returned to his palace. So on the morrow Ja’afar the Barmaki went to that quarter of the town where the children had enacted the mock-trail and asked the schoolmaster where his scholars might be, and he answered, “They have all gone away, each to his home.” So the minister visited the houses pointed out to him and ordered the little ones to appear in his presence. Accordingly they were brought before him, when he said to them, “Who amongst you is he that yesternight acted the part of Kazi in play and passed sentence in the case of Ali Khwajah?” The eldest of them replied, “ ’Twas I, O my lord the Wazir;” and then he waxed pale, not knowing why the question was put. Cried the Minister, “Come along with me; the Commander of the Faithful hath need of thee.” At this the mother of the lad was sore afraid and wept; but Ja’afar comforted her and said, “O my lady, have no fear and trouble not thyself. Thy son will soon return to thee in safety, Inshallah — God willing — and methinks the Sultan will show much favour unto him.” The woman’s heart was heartened on hearing these words of the Wazir and she joyfully dressed her boy in his best attire and sent him off with the Wazir, who led him by the hand to the Caliph’s audience-hall and executed all the other commandments which had been issued by his liege lord. Then the Commander of the Faithful, having taken seat upon the throne of justice, set the boy upon a seat beside him, and as soon as the contending parties appeared before him, that is Ali Khwajah and the merchant of Baghdad, he commanded them to state each man his case in presence of the child who should adjudge the suit. So the two, plaintiff and defendant recounted their contention before the boy in full detail; and when the accused stoutly denied the charge and was about to swear on oath that what he said was true, with hands uplifted and facing Ka’abah-wards, the child-Kazi prevented him, saying, “Enough! swear not on oath till thou art bidden; and first let the jar of olives be produced in Court.” Forthwith the jar was brought forward and placed before him; and the lad bade open it; then, tasting one he gave also to two oil-merchants who had been summoned, that they might do likewise and declare how old was the fruit and whether its savour was good or bad. They did his bidding and said, “The flavour of these olives hath not changed and they are of this year’s growth.” Then said the boy, “Methinks ye are mistaken, for seven years ago Ali Khwajah put the olives into the jar: how then could fruit of this year find their way therein?” But they replied, “ ’Tis even as we say: an thou believe not our words send straightway for other oil-merchants and make enquiry of them, so shalt thou know if we speak sooth or lies.” But when the merchant of Baghdad saw that he could no longer avail to prove his innocence, he confessed everything; to wit, how he had taken out the Ashrafis and filled the jar with fresh olives. Hearing this the boy said to the Prince of True Believers, “O gracious sovereign, last night in play we tried this cause, but thou alone has power to apply the penalty. I have adjudged the matter in thy presence and I humbly pray that thou punish this merchant according to the law of the Koran and the custom of the Apostle; and thou decree the restoring of his thousand gold pieces to Ali Khwajah, for that he hath been proved entitled to them."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph ordered the merchant of Baghdad to be taken away and be hanged, after he should have made known where he had put the thousand Ashrafis and that these should have been restored their rightful owner, Ali Khwajah. He also turned to the Kazi who had hastily adjudged the case, and bade him learn from that lad to do his duty more sedulously and conscientiously. More-over the Prince of True Believers embraced the boy, and ordered that the Wazir give him a thousand pieces of gold from the royal treasury and conduct him safely to his home and parents.312 And after, when the lad grew to man’s estate, the Commander of the Faithful made him one of his cup-companions and furthered his fortunes and ever entreated him with the highmost honour. But when Queen Shahrazad had ended the story of Ali Khwajah and the merchant of Baghdad she said, “Now, O auspicious King, I would relate a more excellent history than any, shouldst thou be pleased to hear that I have to say;” and King Shahryar replied, “By Allah! what an admirable tale is this thou hast told: my ears do long to hear another as rare and commendable.” So Shahrazad began forthright to recount the adventures of313
307 These visions are frequent in Al-Islam; see Pilgrimage iii. 254-55. Of course Christians are not subject to them, as Moslems also are never favoured with glimpses of the Blessed Virgin and the Saints; the best proof of their “Subjectivity.”
308 For this word see De Sacy, Chrest. ii. 421. It has already occurred in The Nights, vol. iii. 295.
309 Not a few pilgrims settle for a time or for life in the two Holy Places, which are thus kept supplied with fresh blood. See Pilgrimage ii. 260.
310 i.e. Bayt al-Mukaddas, for which see vol. ii. 132.
311 An affidavit amongst Moslems is “litis decisio,” as in the jurisprudence of mediæval Europe.
312 In Arab folk-lore there are many instances of such precocious boys —enfants terribles they must be in real life. In Ibn Khall. (iii. 104) we find notices of a book “Kitáb Nujabá al-Abná” = Treatise on Distinguished Children, by Ibn Zakar al-Sakalli (the Sicilian), ob. A. D. 1169-70. And the boy-Kazi is a favourite role in the plays of peasant-lads who enjoy the irreverent “chaff” almost as much as when “making a Pasha.” This reminds us of the boys electing Cyrus as their King in sport (Herodotus, i. 114). For the cycle of “Precocious Children” and their adventures, see Mr. Clouston (Popular Tales, etc., ii. 1-14), who enters into the pedigree and affiliation. I must, however, differ with that able writer when he remarks at the end, “And now we may regard the story of Valerius Maximus with suspicion, and that of Lloyd as absolutely untrue, so far as William Noy’s alleged share in the ‘case.’ “ The jest or the event happening again and again is no valid proof of its untruth; and it is often harder to believe in derivation than in spontaneous growth.
313 In Galland Ali Cogia, Marchand de Bagdad, is directly followed by the Histoire du Cheval Enchanté. For this “Ebony Horse,” as I have called it, see vol. v. p. 32.
In days of yore and times long gone before there was a Sultan of India who begat three sons; the eldest hight Prince Husayn, the second Prince Ali, and the youngest Prince Ahmad; moreover he had a niece, named Princess Nur al-Nihár,315 the daughter of his cadet brother who, dying early, left his only child under her uncle’s charge. The King busied himself with abundant diligence about her instruction and took all care that she should be taught to read and write, sew and embroider, sing and deftly touch all instruments of mirth and merriment. This Princess also in beauty and loveliness and in wit and wisdom far excelled all the maidens of her own age in every land. She was brought up with the Princes her cousins in all joyance; and they ate together and played together and slept together; and the king had determined in his mind that when she reached marriageable age he would give her in wedlock to some one of the neighbouring royalties; but, when she came to years of discretion, her uncle perceived that the three Princes his sons were all three deep in love of her, and each desired in his heart to woo and to win and to wed her. Wherefore was the King sore troubled in mind and said to himself, “An I give the Lady Nur al-Nihar in wedlock to any one of her cousins, the other twain will be dissatisfied and murmur against my decision; withal my soul cannot endure to see them grieved and disappointed. And should I marry her to some stranger the three Princes my sons will be sore distressed and saddened in soul; nay, who knoweth that they may not slay themselves or go forth and betake them to some far and foreign land? The matter is a troublous and a perilous; so it behoveth me their sire to take action on such wise that if one of them espouse her, the other two be not displeased thereat.” Long time the Sultan revolved the matter in his mind; and at length he devised a device; and, sending for the three princes, addressed them saying, “O my sons, ye are in my opinion of equal merit one with other; nor can I give preference to any of you and marry him to the Princess Nur al-Nihar; nor yet am I empowered to wed her with all three. But I have thought of one plan whereby she shall be wife to one of you, and yet shall not cause aught of irk or envy to his brethren; so may your mutual love and affection remain unabated, and one shall never be jealous of the other’s happiness. Brief, my device is this:— Go ye and travel to distant countries, each one separating himself from the others; and do ye bring me back the thing most wondrous and marvellous of all sights ye may see upon your wayfarings; and he who shall return with the rarest of curiosities shall be husband to the Princess Nur al-Nihar. Consent ye now to this proposal; and whatso of money ye require for travel and for the purchase of objects seld-seen and singular, take ye from the royal treasury as much as ye desire.” The three Princes, who were ever submissive to their sire, consented with one voice to this proposal, and each was satisfied and confident that he would bring the King the most extraordinary of gifts and thereby win the Princess to wife. So the Sultan bade give to each what moneys he wanted without stint or account, and counselled them to make ready for the journey without stay or delay and depart their home in the Peace of Allah. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the three princely brothers forthright made them ready for journey and voyage. So they donned disguise, preferring the dress of wandering merchants; and, buying such things as they needed and taking with them each his suite they mounted steeds of purest blood and rode forth in a body from the palace. For several stages they travelled the same road until, reaching a place where it branched off in three different ways, they alighted at a Khan and ate the evening meal. Then they made compact and covenant, that whereas they had thus far travelled together they should at break of day take separate roads and each wend his own way and all seek different and distant regions, agreeing to travel for the space of one year only, after which, should they be in the land of the living, all three would rendezvous at that same caravanserai and return in company to the King their sire. Furthermore, they determined that the first who came back to the Khan should await the arrival of the next, and that two of them should tarry there in expectancy of the third. Then, all this matter duly settled, they retired to rest, and when the morning morrowed they fell on one another’s necks and bade farewell; and, lastly, mounting their horses, they rode forth each in his own direction. Now Prince Husayn, the eldest, had oft heard recount the wonders of the land Bishangarh316, and for a long while had wished to visit it; so he took the road which led thither, and, joining himself to a caravan journeying that way, accompanied it by land and by water and traversed many regions, desert wilds and stony wolds, dense jungles and fertile tracts, with fields and hamlets and gardens and townships. After three months spent in wayfare at length he made Bishangarh, a region over-reigned by manifold rulers, so great was its extent and so far reaching was its power. He put up at a Khan built specially for merchants who came from the farthest lands, and from the folk who dwelt therein he heard tell that the city contained a large central market317 wherein men bought and sold all manner of rarities and wondrous things. Accordingly, next day Prince Husayn repaired to the Bazar and on sighting it he stood amazed at the prospect of its length and width. It was divided into many streets, all vaulted over but lit up by skylights; and the shops on either side were substantially builded, all after one pattern and nearly of the same size, while each was fronted by an awning which kept off the glare and made a grateful shade. Within these shops were ranged and ordered various kinds of wares; there were bales of “woven air”318 and linens of finest tissue, plain-white or dyed or adorned with life-like patterns wherefrom beasts and trees and blooms stood out so distinctly that one might believe them to be very ferals, bosquets and gardens. There were moreover silken goods, brocaded stuffs, and finest satins from Persia and Egypt of endless profusion; in the China warehouses stood glass vessels of all kinds, and here and there were stores wherein tapestries and thousands of foot-carpets lay for sale. So Prince Husayn walked on from shop to shop and marvelled much to see such wondrous things whereof he had never even dreamt: and he came at length to the Goldsmiths’ Lane and espied gems and jewels and golden and silvern vessels studded with diamonds and rubies, emeralds, pearls and other precious stones, all so lustrous and dazzling bright that the stores were lit up with their singular brilliancy. Hereat he said to himself, “If in one street only there be such wealth and jewels so rare, Allah Almighty and none save He knoweth what may be the riches in all this city.” He was not less astonished to behold the Brahmins, how their women-kind for excess of opulence bedecked themselves with the finest gems and were ornamented with the richest gear from front to foot: their very slave-boys and handmaids wore golden necklaces and bracelets and bangles studded with precious stones. Along the length of one market street were ranged hosts of flower-sellers; for all the folk, both high and low, wore wreaths and garlands: some carried nosegays in hand, other some bound fillets round their heads, while not a few had ropes and festoons surrounding and hanging from their necks. The whole place seemed one huge parterre of bloomery; even traders set bouquets in every shop and stall, and the scented air was heavy with perfume. Strolling to and fro Prince Husayn was presently tired and would fain have sat him down somewhere to rest awhile, when one of the merchants, noting his look of weariness, with kindly courtesy prayed him be seated in his store. After saluting him with the salam the stranger sat down; and anon he saw a broker come that way, offering for sale a carpet some four yards square, and crying, “This be for sale; who giveth me its worth; to wit, thirty thousand gold pieces?"— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince marvelled with excessive marvel at the price, and, beckoning the dealer, examined his wares right well; then said he, “A carpet such as this is selleth for a few silverlings. What special virtue hath it that thou demand therefor the sum of thirty thousand gold coins?” The broker, believing Husayn to be a merchant man lately arrived at Bishangarh, answered him saying, “O my lord, thinkest thou I price this carpet at too high a value? My master hath bidden me not to sell it for less than forty thousand Ashrafis.” Quoth the Prince, “It surely cloth possess some wondrous virtue, otherwise wouldst thou not demand so prodigious a sum;” and quoth the broker, “’Tis true, O my lord, its properties are singular and marvellous. Whoever sitteth on this carpet and willeth in thought to be taken up and set down upon other site will, in the twinkling of an eye, be borne thither, be that place nearhand or distant many a day’s journey and difficult to reach.”319 The Prince hearing these words said to himself, “Naught so wonder-rare as this rug can I carry back to the Sultan my sire to my gift, or any that afford him higher satisfaction and delight. Almighty Allah be praised, the aim of my wayLare is attained and hereby, Inshallah! I shall win to my wish. This, if anything, will be to him a joy for ever.” Wherefore the Prince, with intent to buy the Flying Carpet, turned to the broker and said, If indeed it have properties such as thou describest, verily the price thou askest therefor is not over much, and I am ready to pay thee the sum required.” The other rejoined, “An thou doubt my words I pray thee put them to the test and by such proof remove thy suspicions. Sit now upon this square of tapestry, and at thy mere wish and will it shall transport us to the caravanserai wherein thou abidest: on this wise shalt thou be certified of my words being sooth, and when assured of their truth thou mayest count out to me, there and then, but not before, the value of my wares.” Accordingly, the man spread out the carpet upon the ground behind his shop and seated the Prince thereupon, he sitting by his side. Then, at the mere will320 and wish of Prince Husayn, the twain were at once transported as though borne by the throne of Solomon to the Khan. So the eldest of the brothers joyed with exceeding joy to think that he had won so rare a thing, whose like could nowhere be found in the lands nor amongst the Kings; and his heart and soul were gladdened for that he had come to Bishangarh and hit upon such a prodigy. Accordingly he counted out the forty thousand Ashrafis as payment for the carpet, and gave, moreover, another twenty thousand by way of sweetmeat to the broker. Furthermore, he ceased not saying to himself that the King on seeing it would forthright wed him to the Princess Nur al-Nihar; for it were clear impossible that either of his brothers, e’en though they searched the whole world over and over, could find a rarity to compare with this. He longed to take seat upon the carpet that very instant and fly to his own country, or, at least, to await his brothers at the caravanserai where they had parted under promise and covenant, pledged and concluded, to meet again at the year’s end. But presently he bethought him that the delay would be long and longsome, and much he feared lest he be tempted to take some rash step; wherefore he resolved upon sojourning in the country whose King and subjects he had ardently desired to behold for many a day, and determined that he would pass the time in sight-seeing and in pleasuring over the lands adjoining. So Prince Husayn tarried in Bishangarh some months. Now the King of that country was wont to hold a high court once every week for hearing disputes and adjudging causes which concerned foreign merchants; and thus the Prince ofttimes saw the King, but to none would he tell a word of his adventure. However, inasmuch as he was comely of countenance, graceful of gait, and courteous of accost, stout hearted and strong, wise and ware and witty, he was held by the folk in higher honour than the Sultan; not to speak of the traders his fellows; and in due time he be came a favourite at court and learned of the ruler himself all matters concerning his kingdom and his grandeur and greatness. The Prince also visited the most famous Pagodas321 of that country. The first he saw was wrought in brass and orichalch of most exquisite workmanship: its inner cell measured three yards square and contained amiddlemost a golden image in size and stature like unto a man of wondrous beauty; and so cunning was the workmanship that the face seemed to fix its eyes, two immense rubies of enormous value, upon all beholders no matter where they stood.322 He also saw another idol-temple, not less strange and rare than this, builded in a village on a plain surface of some half acre long and broad, wherein bloomed lovely rose-trees and jasmine and herb-basil and many other sweet-scented plants, whose perfume made the air rich with fragrance. Around its court ran a wall three feet high, so that no animal might stray therein; and in the centre was a terrace well-nigh the height of a man, all made of white marble and wavy alabaster, each and every slab being dressed so deftly and joined with such nice joinery that the whole pavement albeit covering so great a space, seemed to the sight but a single stone. In the centre of the terrace stood the domed fane towering some fifty cubits high and conspicuous for many miles around: its length was thirty cubits and its breadth twenty, and the red marbles of the revetment were clean polished as a mirror, so that every image was reflected in it to the life. The dome was exquisitely carved and sumptuously ornamented without; and within were ranged in due rank and sequence rows and rows of idols. To this, the Holy of Holies, from morn till eve thousands of Brahmins, men and women, came docking for daily worship. They had sports and diversions as well as rites and ceremonies: some feasted and others danced, some sang, others played on instruments of mirth and merriment, while here and there were plays and revels and innocent merry-makings. And hither at every season flocked from distant lands hosts of pilgrims seeking to fulfil their vows and to perform their orisons; all bringing gifts of gold and silver coin and presents rare and costly which they offered to the gods in presence of the royal officers. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Husayn also saw a fête once a year within the city of Bishangarh and the Ryots all, both great and small, gathered together and circumambulated the Pagodas; chiefly circuiting one which in size and grandeur surpassed all others. Great and learned Pandits versed in the Shástras323 made journeys of four or five months and greeted one another at that festival; thither too the folk from all parts of India pilgrimaged in such crowds that Prince Husayn was astounded at the sight; and, by reason of the multitudes that thronged around the temples, he could not see the mode in which the gods were worshipped. On one side of the adjacent plain which stretched far and wide, stood a new-made scaffolding of ample size and great magnificence, nine storeys high, and the lower part supported by forty pillars; and here one day in every week the King assembled his Wazirs for the purpose of meting out justice to all strangers in the land. The palace within was richly adorned and furnished with costly furniture: without, upon the wall faces were limned homely landscapes and scenes of foreign parts and notably all manner beasts and birds and insects even gnats and flies, portrayed with such skill of brain and cunning of hand that they seemed real and alive and the country-folk and villagers seeing from afar paintings of lions and tigers and similar ravenous beasts, were filled with awe and dismay. On the other three sides of the scaffolding were pavilions, also of wood, built for use of the commons, illuminated and decorated inside and outside like the first, and wroughten so cunningly that men could turn them round, with all the people in them, and moving them about transfer them to whatsoever quarter they willed. On such wise they shifted these huge buildings by aid of machinery;324 and the folk inside could look upon a succession of sports and games. Moreover, on each side of the square elephants were ranged in ranks, the number amounting to well nigh one thousand, their trunks and ears and hinder parts being painted with cinnabar and adorned with various lively figures; their housings were of gold brocade and their howdahs purfled with silver, carrying minstrels who performed on various instruments, whilst buffoons delighted the crowd with their jokes and mimes played their most diverting parts. Of all the sports, however, which the Prince beheld, the elephant-show amused him most and Wiled him with the greatest admiration. One huge beast, which could be wheeled about where the keepers ever listed, for that his feet rested upon a post which travelled on casters, held in his trunk a flageolet whereon he played so sweetly well that all the people were fain to cry Bravo! There was another but a smaller animal which stood upon one end of a beam laid crosswise upon, and attached with hinges to, a wooden block eight cubits high, and on the further end was placed an iron weight as heavy as the elephant, who would press down for some time upon the beam until the end touched the ground, and then the weight would raise him up again.325 Thus the beam swung like a see saw aloft and adown; and, as it moved, the elephant swayed to and fro and kept time with the bands of music, loudly trumpeting the while. The people moreover could wheel about this elephant from place to place as he stood balanced on the beam; and such exhibitions of learned elephants were mostly made in presence of the King. Prince Husayn spent well nigh a year in sight-seeing amongst the fairs and festivals of Bishangarh; and, when the period of the fraternal compact drew near, he spread his carpet upon the court-ground behind the Khan wherein he lodged, and sitting thereon, together with his suite and the steeds and all he had brought with him, mentally wished that he might be transported to the caravanserai where the three brothers had agreed to meet. No sooner had he formed the thought than straightway, in the twinkling of an eye, the carpet rose high in air and sped through space and carried them to the appointed stead where, still garbed as a merchant he remained in expectation of his brothers’ coming. Hearken now, O auspicious King, to what befel Prince Ali, the second brother of Prince Husayn. On the third day after he had parted from the two others, he also joined a caravan and journeyed towards Persia; then, after a march of four months arriving at Shiraz, the capital of Iran-land, he alighted at a Khan, he and his fellow-travellers with whom he had made a manner of friendship; and, passing as a jeweller, there took up his abode with them. Next day the traders fared forth to buy wares and to sell their goods; but Prince Ali, who had brought with him naught of vendible, and only the things he needed, presently doffed his travelling dress, and in company with a comrade of the caravan entered the chief Bazar, known as the Bazistán,326 or cloth-market. Ali strolled about the place, which was built of brick and where all the shops had arched roofs resting on handsome columns; and he admired greatly to behold the splendid store-houses exposing for sale all manner goods of countless value. He wondered much what wealth was in the town if a single market street contained riches such as these. And as the brokers went about crying their goods for sale, he saw one of them hending in hand an ivory tube in length about a cubit, which he was offering for sale at the price of thirty thousand Ashrafis. Hearing such demand Prince Ali thought to himself, “Assuredly this fellow is a fool who asketh such a price for so paltry a thing."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Ali presently asked one of the shopkeepers with whom he had made acquaintance, saying, “O my friend, is this man a maniac that he asketh a sum of thirty thousand Ashrafis for this little pipe of ivory? Surely none save an idiot would give him such a price and waste upon it such a mint of money.” Said the shop man, “O my lord, this broker is wiser and warier than all the others of his calling, and by means of him I have sold goods worth thousands of sequins. Until yesterday he was in his sound senses; but I cannot say what state is his to day and whether or no he have lost his wits; but this wot I well, that if he ask thirty thousand for yon ivory tube, ’twill be worth that same or even more. Howbeit we shall see with our own eyes. Sit thee here and rest within the shop until he pass this way.” So Prince Ali abode where he was bidden and presently the broker was seen coming up the street. Then the shopman calling to him said, “O man, rare merit hath yon little pipe; for all the folk are astounded to hear thee ask so high a price therefor; nay more, this friend of mine thinketh that thou art crazy.” The broker, a man of sense, was on no wise chafed at these words but answered with gentle speech, “O my lord, I doubt not but that thou must deem me a madman to ask so high a price, and set so great a value upon an article so mean; but when I shall have made known to thee its properties and virtues, thou wilt most readily consent to take it at that valuation. Not thou alone but all men who have heard me cry my cry laugh and name me ninny.” So saying, the broker showed the Spying Tube to Prince Ali and handing it to him said, “Examine well this ivory, the properties of which I will explain to thee. Thou seest that it is furnished with a piece of glass at either end;327 and, shouldst thou apply one extremity thereof to thine eye, thou shalt see what thing soe’er thou listest and it shall appear close by thy side though parted from thee by many an hundred of miles.” Replied the Prince, “This passeth all conception, nor can I believe it to be veridical until I shall have tested it and I become satisfied that ’tis even as thou sayest.” Hereupon the broker placed the little tube in Prince Ali’s hand, and showing him the way to handle it said, “Whatso thou mayest wish to descry will be shown to thee by looking through this ivory.” Prince Ali silently wished to sight his sire, and when he placed the pipe close to his eye forthwith he saw him hale and hearty, seated on his throne and dispensing justice to the people of his dominion. Then the youth longed with great longing to look upon his lady love the Princess Nur al-Nihar; and straightway he saw her also sitting upon her bed, sound and sane, talking and laughing, whilst a host of handmaids stood around awaiting her commands. The Prince was astonished exceedingly to behold this strange and wondrous spectacle, and said to himself, “An I should wander the whole world over for ten years or more and search in its every corner and cranny, I shall never find aught so rare and precious as this tube of ivory.” Then quoth he to the broker, “The virtues of thy pipe I find are indeed those thou hast described, and right willingly I give to thee its price the thirty thousand Ashrafis.” Replied the sales-man, “O my lord, my master hath sworn an oath that he will not part with it for less than forty thousand gold pieces.” Here-upon the Prince, understanding that the broker was a just man and a true, weighed out to him the forty thousand sequins and became master of the Spying Tube, enraptured with the thought that assuredly it would satisfy his sire and obtain for him the hand of Princess Nur al-Nihar. So with mind at ease Ali journeyed through Shiraz and over sundry parts of Persia; and in fine, when the year was well nigh spent he joined a caravan and, travelling back to India, arrived safe and sound at the appointed caravanserai whither Prince Husayn had foregone him. There the twain tarried awaiting the third brother’s safe return. Such, O King Shahryar, is the story of the two brothers; and now I beseech thee incline thine ear and hearken to what befel the youngest, to wit Prince Ahmad; for indeed his adventure is yet more peregrine and seld-seen of all. When he had parted from his brothers, he took the road leading to Samarkand; and, arriving there after long travel, he also like his brothers alighted at a Khan. Next day he fared forth to see the market square, which folk call the Bazistan, and he found it fairly laid out, the shops wroughten with cunning workmanship and filled with rare stuffs and precious goods and costly merchandise. Now as he wandered to and fro he came across a broker who was hawking a Magical Apple and crying aloud, “Who will buy this fruit, the price whereof be thirty-five thousand gold pieces?” Quoth Prince Ahmad to the man, “Prithee let me see the fruit thou holdest in hand, and explain to me what hidden virtue it possesseth that thou art asking for it so high a value.” Quoth the other, smiling and handing to him the apple, “Marvel not at this, O good my lord: in sooth I am certified that when I shall have explained its properties and thou shalt see how it advantageth all mankind, thou wilt not deem my demand exorbitant; nay, rather thou wilt gladly give a treasure house of gold so thou may possess it."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the broker said moreover to Prince Ahmad, “Now hearken to me, O my lord, and I will tell thee what of virtue lieth in this artificial apple. If anyone be sick of a sickness however sore, nay more if he be ill nigh unto death, and perchance he smell this pome, he will forthwith recover and become well and whole of whatsoever disease he had, plague or pleurisy, fever or other malignant distemper, as though he never had been attacked; and his strength will return to him forthright, and after smelling this fruit he will be free from all ailment and malady so long as life shall remain to him.” Quoth Prince Ahmad, “How shall I be assured that what thou speakest is truth? If the matter be even as thou sayest, then verily I will give thee right gladly the sum thou demandest.” Quoth the broker, “O my lord, all men who dwell in the parts about Samarkand know full well how there once lived in this city a sage of wondrous skill who, after many years of toil and travail, wrought this apple by mixing medicines from herbs and minerals countless in number. All his good, which was great, he expended upon it, and when he had perfected it he made whole thousands of sick folk whom he directed only to smell the fruit. But, alas! his life presently came to an end and death overtook him suddenly ere he could save himself by the marvellous scent; and, as he had won no wealth and left only a bereaved wife and a large family of young children and dependents manifold, his widow had no help but provide for them a maintenance by parting with this prodigy.” While the salesman was telling his tale to the Prince a crowd of citizens gathered around them and one amongst the folk, who was well known to the broker, came forward and said, “A friend of mine lieth at home sick to the death: the doctors and surgeons all despair of his life; so I beseech thee let him smell this fruit that he may live.” Hearing these words, Prince Ahmad turned to the salesman and said, “O my friend, if this sick man of whom thou hearest can recover strength by smelling the apple, then will I straightway buy it of thee at a valuation of forty thousand Ashrafis.” The man had permission to sell it for a sum of thirty-five thousand; so he was satisfied to receive five thousand by way of brokerage, and he rejoined, “’Tis well, O my lord, now mayest thou test the virtues of this apple and be persuaded in thy mind: hundreds of ailing folk have I made whole by means of it.” Accordingly the Prince accompanied the people to the sick man’s house and found him lying on his bed with the breath in his nostrils; but, as soon as the dying man smelt the fruit, at once recovering strength he rose in perfect health, sane and sound. Hereupon Ahmad bought the Magical Apple of the dealer and counted out to him the forty thousand Ashrafis. Presently, having gained the object of his travels, he resolved to join some caravan marching Indiawards and return to his father’s home; but meanwhile he resolved to solace himself with the sights and marvels of Samarkand. His especial joy was to gaze upon the glorious plain highs Soghd,328 one of the wonders of this world: the land on all sides was a delight to the sight, emerald-green and bright, with crystal rills like the plains of Paradise; the gardens bore all manner flowers and fruits and the cities and palaces gladdened the stranger’s gaze. After some days Prince Ahmad joined a caravan of merchants wending Indiawards; and, when his long and longsome travel was ended, he at last reached the caravanserai where his two brothers, Husayn and Ali, impatiently awaited his arrival. The three rejoiced with exceeding joy to meet once more and fell on one another’s necks; thanking Allah who had brought them back safe and sound, hale and hearty, after such prolonged and longsome absence. Then Prince Husayn, being the eldest, turned to them and said, “Now it behoveth us each to recount what hath betided him and announce what rare thing he hath brought back and what be the virtues thereof; and I, being the first-born, will be the foremost to tell my adventures. I bring with me from Bishangarh, a carpet, mean to look at, but such are its properties that should any sit thereon and wish in mind to visit country or city, he will at once be carried thither in ease and safety although it be distant months, nay years of journey. I have paid forty thousand gold pieces to its price; and, after seeing all the wonders of Bishangarh-land, I took seat upon my purchase and willed myself at this spot. Straightway I found myself here as I wished and have tarried in this caravanserai three months awaiting your arrival. The flying carpet is with me; so let him who listeth make trial of it.” When the senior Prince had made an end of telling his tale, Prince Ali spake next and said, “O my brother, this carpet which thou hast brought is marvel-rare and hath most wondrous gifts; nor according to thy statement hath any in all the world seen aught to compare with it.” Then bringing forth the Spying Tube, he pursued, “Look ye here, I too have bought for forty thousand Ashrafis somewhat whose merits I will now show forth to you."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Ali enlarged upon the virtues of his purchase and said, “Ye see this ivory pipe? By means of it man may descry objects hidden from his sight and distant from him many a mile. ’Tis truly a most wondrous matter and right worthy your inspection, and you two may try it an ye will. Place but an eye close to the smaller glass and form a wish in mind to see what thing soe’er your soul desireth; and, whether it be near hand or distant many hundreds of miles, this ivory will make the object look clear and close to you.” At these words Prince Husayn took the pipe from Prince Ali and, applying his eye to one end as he had been directed, then wished in his heart to behold the Princess Nur al-Nihar;329 and the two brothers watched him to learn what he would say. Suddenly they saw his face change colour and wither as a wilted flower, while in his agitation and distress a flood of tears gushed from his eyes; and, ere his brothers recovered from their amazement and could enquire the cause of such strangeness, he cried aloud, “Alas! and well away. We have endured toil and travail, and we have travelled so far and wide hoping to wed the Princess Nur al-Nihar. But ’tis all in vain: I saw her lying on her bed death-sick and like to breathe her last and around her stood her women all weeping and wailing in the sorest of sorrow. O my brothers, an ye would see her once again for the last time, take ye one final look through the glass ere she be no more.” Hereat Prince Ali seized the Spying Tube and peered through it and found the condition of the Princess even as his brother Husayn had described; so he presently passed it over to Prince Ahmad, who also looked and was certified that the Lady Nur al-Nihar was about to give up the ghost. So he said to his elder brothers, “We three are alike love distraught for the Princess and the dearest wish of each one is to win her. Her life is on the ebb, still I can save her and make her whole if we hasten to her without stay or delay.” So saying he pulled from his pocket the Magical Apple and showed it to them crying, “This thing is not less in value than either the Flying Carpet or the Spying Tube. In Samarkand I bought it for forty thousand gold pieces and here is the best opportunity to try its virtues. The folk told me that if a sick man hold it to his nose, although on the point of death, he will wax at once well and hale again: I have myself tested it, and now ye shall see for yourselves its marvel-cure when I shall apply it to the case of Nur al-Nihar. Only, let us seek her presence ere she die.” Quoth Prince Husayn, “This were an easy matter: my carpet shall carry us in the twinkling of an eye straight to the bedside of our beloved. Do ye without hesitation sit down with me thereupon, for there is room sufficient to accommodate us three; we shall instantly be carried thither and our servants can follow us.” Accordingly, the three Princes disposed themselves upon the Flying Carpet and each willed in his mind to reach the bedside of Nur al-Nihar, when instantly they found themselves within her apartment. The handmaids and eunuchs in waiting were terrified at the sight and marvelled how these stranger men could have entered the chamber; and, as the Castratos were fain fall upon them, brand in hand, they recognised the Princes and drew back still in wonderment at their intrusion. Then the brothers rose forthright from the Flying Carpet and Prince Ahmad came forwards and put the Magical Apple to the nostrils of the lady, who lay stretched on the couch in unconscious state; and as the scent reached her brain the sickness left her and the cure was complete. She opened wide her eyes and sitting erect upon her bed looked all around and chiefly at the Princes as they stood before her; for she felt that she had waxed hale and hearty as though she awoke after the sweetest of slumber. Presently she arose from her couch and bade her tire-women dress her the while they related to her the sudden coming of the three Princes, her uncle’s sons, and how Prince Ahmad had made her smell something whereby she had recovered of her illness. And after she had made the Ablution of Health she joyed with exceeding joy to see the Princes and returned thanks to them, but chiefly to Prince Ahmad in that he had restored her to health and life. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then she said:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the brothers also were gladdened with exceeding gladness to see the Princess Nur al-Nihar recover so suddenly from mortal malady and, presently taking leave of her, they fared to greet their father. Meanwhile the Eunuchs had reported the whole matter to the Sultan, and when the Princes came before him he rose and embraced them tenderly and kissed them on their foreheads, filled with satisfaction to see them again and to hear from them the welfare of the Princess, who was dear to him as she had been his daughter. Then the three brothers produced each one the wondrous thing he had brought from his wayfare; and Prince Husayn first showed the Flying Carpet which in the twinkling of an eye had transported them home from far distant exile and said, “For outward show this carpet hath no merit, but inasmuch as it possesseth such wondrous virtue, methinks ’tis impossible to find in all the world aught that can compare to it for rarity.” Next, Prince Ali presented to the King his Spying Tube and said, “The mirror of Jamshíd330 is as vain and naught beside this pipe, by means whereof all things from East to West and from North to South are made clearly visible to the ken of man.” Last of all, Prince Ahmad produced the Magical Apple which wondrously saved the dear life of Nur al-Nihar and said, “By means of this fruit all maladies and grievous distempers are at once made whole.” Thus each presented his rarity to the Sultan, saying, “O our lord, deign examine well these gifts we have brought and do thou pronounce which of them all is most excellent and admirable; so, according to thy promise, he amongst us on whom thy choice may fall shall marry the Princess Nur al-Nihar.” When the King had patiently listened to their several claims and had understood how each gift took part in restoring health to his niece, for a while he dove deep in the sea of thought and then answered, “Should I award the palm of merit to Prince Ahmad, whose Magical Apple cured the Princess, then should I deal unfairly by the other two. Albeit his rarity restored her to life and health from mortal illness, yet say me how had he known of her condition save by the virtue of Prince Ali’s Spying Tube? In like manner, but for the Flying Carpet of Prince Husayn, which brought you three hither in a moment’s space, the Magical Apple would have been of no avail. Wherefore ’tis my rede all three had like part and can claim equal merit in healing her; for it were impossible to have made her whole if any one thing of the three were wanting; furthermore all three objects are wondrous and marvellous without one surpassing other, nor can I, with aught of reason, assign preference or precedence to any. My promise was to marry the Lady Nur al-Nihar to him who should produce the rarest of rarities, but although strange ’tis not less true that all are alike in the one essential condition. The difficulty still remaineth and the question is yet unsolved, whilst I fain would have the matter settled ere the close of day, and without prejudice to any. So needs must I fix upon some plan whereby I may be able to adjudge one of you to be the winner, and bestow upon him the hand of Princess Nur al-Nihar, according to my plighted word; and thus absolve myself from all responsibility. Now I have resolved upon this course of action; to wit, that ye should mount each one his own steed and all of you be provided with bow and arrows; then do ye ride forth to the Maydán — the hippodrome — whither I and my Ministers of State and Grandees of the kingdom and Lords of the land will follow you. There in my presence ye shall each, turn by turn, shoot a shaft with all your might and main; and he amongst you whose arrow shall fly the farthest will be adjudged by me worthiest to win the Princess Nur al-Nihar to wife.” Accordingly the three Princes, who could not gainsay the decision of their sire nor question its wisdom and justice, backed their coursers, and each taking his bow and arrows made straight for the place appointed. The King also, when he had stored the presents in the royal treasury, arrived there with his Wazirs and the dignitaries of his realm; and as soon as all was ready, the eldest son and heir, Prince Husayn, essayed his strength and skill and shot a shaft far along the level plain. After him Prince Ali hent his bow in hand and, discharging an arrow in like direction, overshot the first; and lastly came Prince Ahmad’s turn. He too aimed at the same end, but such was the decree of Destiny, that although the knights and courtiers urged on their horses to note where his shaft might strike ground, withal they saw no trace thereof and none of them knew if it had sunk into the bowels of earth or had flown up to the confines of the sky. Some, indeed, there were who with evil mind held that Prince Ahmad had not shot any bolt, and that his arrow had never left his bow. So at last the King bade no more search be made for it and declared himself in favour of Prince Ali and adjudged that he should wed the Princess Nur al-Nihar, forasmuch as his arrow had outsped that of Prince Husayn. Accordingly, in due course the marriage rites and ceremonies were performed after the law and ritual of the land with exceeding pomp and grandeur. But Prince Husayn would not be present at the bride-feast by reason of his dis appointment and jealousy, for he had loved the Lady Nur al-Nihar with a love far exceeding that of either of his brothers; and he doffed his princely dress and donning the garb of a Fakir fared forth to live a hermit’s life. Prince Ahmad also burned with envy and refused to join the wedding-feast; he did not, however, like Prince Husayn, retire to a hermitage, but he spent all his days in searching for his shaft to find where it had fallen. Now it so fortuned that one morning he went again, alone as was his wont, in quest thereof, and starting from the stead whence they had shot their shafts reached the place where the arrows of Princes Husayn and Ali had been found. Then going straight forwards he cast his glances on every side over hill and dale to his right and to his left. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Ahmad went searching for his shaft over hill and dale when, after covering some three parasangs, suddenly he espied it lying flat upon a rock.331 Hereat he marvelled greatly, wondering how the arrow had flown so far, but even more so when he went up to it and saw that it had not stuck in the ground but appeared to have rebounded and to have fallen flat upon a slab of stone. Quoth he to himself, “There must assuredly be some mystery in this matter: else how could anyone shoot a shaft to such a distance and find it fallen after so strange a fashion.” Then, threading his way amongst the pointed crags and huge boulders, he presently came to a hollow in the ground which ended in a subterraneous passage, and after pacing a few paces he espied an iron door. He pushed this open with all ease, for that it had no bolt, and entering, arrow in hand, he came upon an easy slope by which he descended. But whereas he feared to find all pitch-dark, he discovered at some distance a spacious square, a widening of the cave, which was lighted on every side with lamps and candelabra. Then advancing some fifty cubits or more his glance fell upon a vast and handsome palace, and presently there issued from within to the portico a lovely maiden lovesome and lovable, a fairy-form robed in princely robes and adorned from front to foot with the costliest of jewels. She walked with slow and stately gait, withal graceful and blandishing, whilst around her ranged her attendants like the stars about a moon of the fourteenth night. Seeing this vision of beauty, Prince Ahmad hastened to salute her with the salam and she returned it; then coming forwards greeted him graciously and said in sweetest accents, “Well come and welcome, O Prince Ahmad: I am pleased to have sight of thee. How fareth it with thy Highness and why hast thou tarried so long away from me?” The King’s son marvelled greatly to hear her name him by his name; for that he knew not who she was, as they had never seen each other aforetime — how then came she to have learnt his title and condition? Then kissing ground before her he said, “O my lady, I owe thee much of thanks and gratitude for that thou art pleased to welcome me with words of cheer in this strange place where I, alone and a stranger, durst enter with exceeding hesitation and trepidation. But it perplexeth me sorely to think how thou camest to learn the name of thy slave.” Quoth she with a smile, “O my lord, come hither and let us sit at ease within yon belvedere; and there I will give an answer to thine asking.” So they went thither, Prince Ahmad following her footsteps; and on reaching it he was filled with wonder to see its vaulted roof of exquisite workmanship and adorned with gold and lapis lazuli332 and paintings and ornaments, whose like was nowhere to be found in the world. The lady seeing his astonishment said to the Prince, “This mansion is nothing beside all my others which now, of my free will, I have made thine own; and when thou seest them thou shalt have just cause for wonderment. Then that sylph-like being took seat upon a raised dais and with abundant show of affection seated Prince Ahmad by her side. Presently quoth she, “Albeit thou know me not, I know thee well, as thou shalt see with surprise when I shall tell thee all my tale. But first it behoveth me disclose to thee who I am. In Holy Writ belike thou hast read that this world is the dwelling-place not only of men, but also of a race hight the Jann in form likest to mortals. I am the only daughter of a Jinn chief of noblest strain and my name is Perí-Bánú. So marvel not to hear me tell thee who thou art and who is the King thy sire and who is Nur al-Nihar, the daughter of thine uncle. I have full knowledge of all concerning thyself and thy kith and kin; how thou art one of three brothers who all and each were daft for love of Princess Nur al-Nihar and strave to win her from one another to wife. Furthermore thy sire deemed it best to send you all far and wide over foreign lands, and thou faredest to far Samarkand and broughtest back a Magical Apple made with rare art and mystery which thou boughtest for forty thousand Ashrafis; then by means whereof thou madest the Princess thy lady-love whole of a grievous malady, whilst Prince Husayn, thine elder brother, bought for the same sum of money a Flying Carpet at Bishangarh, and Prince Ali also brought home a Spying Tube from Shiraz-city. Let this suffice to show thee that naught is hidden from me of all thy case; and now do thou tell me in very truth whom dost thou admire the more, for beauty and loveliness, me or the lady Nur al-Nihar thy brother’s wife? My heart longeth for thee with excessive longing and desireth that we may be married and enjoy the pleasures of life and the joyance of love. So say me, art thou also willing to wed me, or pinest thou in preference for the daughter of thine uncle? In the fulness of my affection for thee I stood by thy side unseen during the archery meeting upon the plain of trial, and when thou shottest thy shaft I knew that it would fall far short of Prince Ali’s,333 so I hent it in hand ere it touched ground and carried it away from sight, and striking it upon the iron door caused it rebound and lie flat upon the rock where thou didst find it. And ever since that day I have been sitting in expectancy, wotting well that thou wouldst search for it until thou find it, and by such means I was certified of bringing thee hither to me.” Thus spake the beautiful maiden Peri-Banu who with eyes full of love-longing looked up at Prince Ahmad; and then with modest shame bent low her brow and averted her glance. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that when Prince Ahmad heard these words of Peri-Banu he rejoiced with joy exceeding, and said to himself, “The Princess Nur al-Nihar is not within my power to win, and Peri-Banu doth outvie her in comeliness of favour and in loveliness of form and in gracefulness of gait.” In short so charmed was he and captivated that he clean forgot his love for his cousin; and, noting that the heart of his new enchantress inclined towards him, he replied, “O my lady, O fairest of the fair, naught else do I desire save that I may serve thee and do thy bidding all my life long. But I am of human and thou of non-human birth. Thy friends and family, kith and kin, will haply be displeased with thee an thou unite with me in such union.” But she made answer, “I have full sanction of my parents to marry as I list and whomsoever I may prefer. Thou sayest that thou wilt be my servant, nay, rather be thou my lord and master; for I myself and my life and all my good are very thine, and I shall ever be thy bondswoman. Consent now, I beseech thee, to accept me for thy wife: my heart doth tell me thou wilt not refuse my request.” Then Peri-Banu added, “I have told thee already that in this matter I act with fullest authority. Besides all this there is a custom and immemorial usage with us fairy-folk that, when we maidens come to marriageable age and years of understanding, each one may wed, according the dictates of her heart, the person that pleaseth her most and whom she judgeth likely to make her days happy Thus wife and husband live with each other all their lives in harmony and happiness. But if a girl be given away in marriage by the parents, according to their choice and not hers, and she be mated to a helpmate unmeet for her, because ill-shapen or ill-conditioned or unfit to win her affection, then are they twain likely to be at variance each with other for the rest of their days; and endless troubles result to them from such ill-sorted union. Nor are we bound by another law which bindeth modest virgins of the race of Adam; for we freely announce our preference to those we love, nor must we wait and pine to be wooed and won.” When Prince Ahmad heard these words of answer, he rejoiced with exceeding joy and stooping down essayed to kiss the skirt of her garment, but she prevented him, and in lieu of her hem gave him her hand. The Prince clasped it with rapture and according to the custom of that place, he kissed it and placed it to his breast and upon his eyes. Hereat quoth the Fairy, smiling a charming smile, “With my hand locked in thine plight me thy troth even as I pledge my faith to thee, that I will alway true and loyal be, nor ever prove faithless or fail of constancy.” And quoth the Prince, “O loveliest of beings, O dearling of my soul, thinkest thou that I can ever become a traitor to my own heart, I who love thee to distraction and dedicate to thee my body and my sprite; to thee who art my queen, the very empress of me? Freely I give myself to thee, do thou with me whatso thou wilt.” Hereupon Peri-Banu said to Prince Ahmad, “Thou art my husband and I am thy wife.334 This solemn promise made between thee and me standeth in stead of marriage-contract: no need have we of Kazi, for with us all other forms and ceremonies are superfluous and of no avail. Anon I will show thee the chamber where we shall pass the bride-night; and methinks thou wilt admire it and confess that there is none like thereto in the whole world of men.” Presently her handmaidens spread the table and served up dishes of various kinds, and the finest wines in flagons and goblets of gold dubbed with jewels. So they twain sat at meat and ate and drank their sufficiency. Then Peri-Banu took Prince Ahmad by the hand and led him to her private chamber wherein she slept; and he stood upon the threshold amazed to see its magnificence and the heaps of gems and precious stones which dazed his sight, till recovering himself he cried, “Methinks there is not in the universe a room so splendid and decked with costly furniture and gemmed articles such as this.” Quoth Peri-Banu, “An thou so admire and praise this palace what wilt thou say when sighting the mansions and castles of my sire the Jann-King? Haply too when thou shalt behold my garden thou wilt be filled with wonder and delight; but now ’tis over late to lead thee thither and night approacheth.” Then she ushered Prince Ahmad into another room where the supper had been spread, and the splendour of this saloon yielded in naught to any of the others; nay, rather it was the more gorgeous and dazzling. Hundreds of wax candles set in candelabra of the finest amber335 and the purest crystal, ranged on all sides, rained floods of light, whilst golden flowerpots and vessels of finest workmanship and priceless worth, of lovely shapes and wondrous art, adorned the niches and the walls. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that tongue of man can never describe the magnificence of that room in which bands of virgin Peris, loveliest of forms and fairest of features, garbed in choicest garments played on sweet-toned instruments of mirth and merriment or sang lays of amorous significance to strains of heart bewitching music. Then they twain, to wit the bride and bridegroom, sat down at meat, ever and anon delaying to indulge in toyings and bashful love-play and chaste caresses. Peri-Banu with her own hands passed the choicest mouthfuls to Prince Ahmad and made him taste of each dish and dainty, telling him their names and whereof they were composed. But how shall I, O auspicious King Shahryar, avail to give thee any notion of those Jinn-made dishes or to describe with due meed of praise the delicious flavour of meats such as no mortal ever tasted or ever beheld? Then, when both had supped, they drank the choicest wines, and ate with relish sweet conserves and dry fruit and a dessert of various delicacies. At length, when they had their requirement of eating and drinking, they retired into another room which contained a raised dais of the grandest, bedecked with gold-purfled cushions and pillows wrought with seed-pearl and Achæmenian tapestries, whereupon they took seat side by side for converse and solace. Then came in a troop of Jinns and fairies who danced and sang before them with wondrous grace and art; and this pretty show pleased Peri-Banu and Prince Ahmad, who watched the sports and displays with ever-renewed delight. At last the newly wedded couple rose and retired, weary of revelry, to another chamber, wherein they found that the slaves had dispread the genial bed, whose frame was gold studded with jewels and whose furniture was of satin and sendal flowered with the rarest embroidery. Here the guests who attended at the marriage festival and the handmaids of the palace, ranged in two lines, hailed the bride and bridegroom as they went within; and then, craving dismissal, they all departed leaving them to take their joyance in bed. On such wise the marriage-festival and nuptial merry-makings were kept up day after day, with new dishes and novel sports, novel dances and new music; and, had Prince Ahmad lived a thousand years with mortal kind, never could he have seen such revels or heard such strains or enjoyed such love-liesse. Thus six months soon passed in the Fairy-land beside Peri-Banu, whom he loved with a love so fond that he would not lose her from his sight for a moment’s space; but would feel restless and ill-at-ease whenas he ceased to look upon her. In like manner Peri-Banu was fulfilled with affection for him and strove to please her bridegroom more and more every moment by new arts of dalliance and fresh appliances of pleasure, until so absorbing waxed his passion for her that the thought of home and kindred, kith and kin, faded from his thoughts and fled his mind. But after a time his memory awoke from slumber and at times he found himself longing to look upon his father, albeit well did he wot that it were impossible to find out how the far one fared unless he went himself to visit him. So one day quoth he to Peri-Banu, “An it be thy pleasure, I pray thee give me thy command that I may leave thee for a few days to see my sire, who doubtless grieveth at my long absence and suffereth all the sorrows of separation from his son.” Peri-Banu, hearing these words was dismayed with sore dismay, for that she thought within herself that this was only an excuse whereby he might escape and leave her after enjoyment and possession had made her love pall upon the palate of his mind. So quoth she in reply, “Hast thou forgotten thy vows and thy plighted troth, that thou wishest to leave me now? Have love and longing ceased to stir thee, whilst my heart always throbbeth in raptures as it hath ever done at the very thought of thee?” Replied the Prince, “O dearling of my soul, my queen, my empress, what be these doubts that haunt thy mind, and why such sad misgivings and sorrowful words? I know full well that the love of thee and thine affection me-wards are even as thou sayest; and did I not acknowledge this truth or did I prove unthankful or fail to regard thee with a passion as warm and deep, as tender and as true as thine own, I were indeed an ingrate and a traitor of the darkest dye. Far be it from me to desire severance from thee nor hath any thought of leaving thee never to return at any time crossed my mind. But my father is now an old man well shotten in years and he is sore grieved in mind at this long separation from his youngest son. If thou wilt deign command, I would fain go visit him and with all haste return to thine arms; yet I would not do aught in this matter against thy will; and such is my fond affection for thee that I would fain be at all hours of the day and watches of the night by thy side nor leave thee for a moment of time.” Peri-Banu was somewhat comforted by this speech; and from his looks, words and acts she was certified that Prince Ahmad really loved her with fondest love and that his heart was true as steel to her as was his tongue. Whereupon she granted him leave and liberty to set forth and see his sire, whilst at the same time she gave him strict commandment not to tarry long with his kith and kin. Hearken now, O auspicious King Shahryar, to what befel the Sultan of Hindostan and how it fared with him after the marriage of Prince Ali to Princess Nur al-Nihar. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that not seeing Prince Husayn and Prince Ahmad for the space of many days the Sultan waxed exceeding sad and heavy-hearted, and one morning after Darbar,336 asked his Wazirs and Ministers what had betided them and where they were. Hereto the councillors made answer saying, “O our lord, and shadow of Allah upon earth, thine eldest son and fruit of thy vitals and heir apparent to thine Empire the Prince Husayn, in his disappointment and jealousy and bitter grief hath doffed his royal robes to become a hermit, a devotee, renouncing all worldly lusts and gusts. Prince Ahmad thy third son also in high dudgeon hath left the city; and of him none knoweth aught, whither he hath fled or what hath befallen him.” The King was sore distressed and bade them write without stay or delay and forthright despatch firmans and commands to all the Nabobs and Governors of the provinces, with strict injunctions to make straight search for Prince Ahmad and to send him to his sire the moment he was found. But, albeit the commandments were carried out to the letter and all the seekers used the greatest diligence none came upon any trace of him. Then, with increased sadness of heart, the Sultan ordered his Grand Wazir to go in quest of the fugitive and the Minister replied, “Upon my head be it and mine eyes! Thy servant hath already caused most careful research to be made in every quarter, but not the smallest clue hath yet come to hand: and this matter troubleth me the more for that he was dear to me as a son.” The Ministers and Grandees now understood that the King was overwhelmed with woe, tearful-eyed and heavy-hearted by reason of the loss of Prince Ahmad; whereupon bethought the Grand Wazir of a certain witch famed for the Black Art who could conjure down the stars from heaven; and who was a noted dweller in the capital. So going to the Sultan he spake highly of her skill in knowledge of the abstruse,337 saying “Let the King, I pray thee, send for this sorceress and enquire of her concerning his lost son.” And the King replied, “’Tis well said: let her be brought hither and haply she shall give me tidings of the Prince and how he fareth.” So they fetched the Sorceress and set her before the Sultan, who said, “O my good woman, I would have thee know that ever since the marriage of Prince Ali with the Lady Nur al-Nihar, my youngest son Prince Ahmad,338 who was disappointed in her love, hath disappeared from our sight and no man knoweth aught of him. Do thou forthright apply thy magical craft and tell me only this:— Is he yet alive or is he dead? An he live I would learn where is he and how fareth he; moreover, I would ask, Is it written in my book of Destiny that I shall see him yet again?” To this the Witch made reply, “O Lord of the Age and ruler of the times and tide, ’tis not possible for me at once to answer all these questions which belong to the knowledge of Hidden Things; but, if thy Highness deign grant me one day of grace, I will consult my books of gramarye and on the morrow will give thee a sufficient reply and a satisfactory.” The Sultan to this assented, saying, “An thou can give me detailed and adequate answer, and set my mind at ease after this sorrow, thou shalt have an exceeding great reward and I will honour thee with highmost honour.” Next day the Sorceress, accompanied by the Grand Wazir, craved permission to appear before the presence, and when it was granted came forward and said, “I have made ample investigation by my art and mystery and I have assured myself that Prince Ahmad is yet in the land of the living. Be not therefore uneasy in thy mind on his account; but at present, save this only, naught else can I discover regarding him, nor can I say for sure where he be or how he is to be found.” At these words the Sultan took comfort, and hope sprang up within his breast that he should see his son again ere he died. Now return we to the story of Prince Ahmad. Whenas Peri-Banu understood that he was bent upon visiting his sire and she was convinced that his love her-wards remained firm and steadfast as before, she took thought and determined that it would ill become her to refuse him leave and liberty for such purpose; so she again pondered the matter in her mind and debated with herself for many an hour till at length, one day of the days, she turned to her husband and said, “Albeit my heart consenteth not to part from thee for a moment or to lose sight of thee for a single instant, still inasmuch as thou hast ofttimes made entreaty of me and hast shown thyself so solicitous to see thy sire, I will no longer baffle thy wish. But this my favour will depend upon one condition; otherwise I will never grant thy petition and give thee such permission. Swear to me the most binding of oaths that thou wilt haste thee back hither with all possible speed, and thou wilt not by long absence cause me yearning grief and anxious waiting for thy safe return to me.” Prince Ahmad, well pleased to win his wish, thanked her saying, “O my beloved, fear not for me after any fashion and rest assured I will come back to thee with all haste as soon as I shall have seen my sire; and life hath no charms for me away from thy presence. Although I must needs be severed from thee for a few days, yet will my heart ever turn to thee and to thee only.” These words of Prince Ahmad gladdened the heart of Peri-Banu and drove away the darksome doubts and mysterious misgivings which ever haunted her nightly dreams and her daily musings. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu gladdened by these premises addressed her husband, Prince Ahmad, “So now, as soon as thy heart desireth, go thou and pay thy respects to thy sire; but ere thou set out I would charge thee with one charge and look that on no wise thou forget my rede and my counsel. Speak not to any a single word of this thy marriage nor of the strange sights thou hast seen and the wonders thou hast witnessed; but keep them carefully concealed from thy father and thy brethren and from thy kith and kin, one and all. This only shalt thou tell thy sire, so his mind may be set at ease that thou art buxom and happy; also that thou hast returned home for a while only with the object of seeing him and becoming assured of his welfare.” Then she gave orders to her people bidding them make ready for the journey without delay; and when all things were prepared she appointed twenty horsemen, armed cap-a-pie and fully accoutred, to accompany her husband, and gave him a horse of perfect form and proportions, swift as the blinding leven or the rushing wind; and its housings and furniture were bedeckt with precious ores and studded with jewels. Then she fell on his neck and they embraced with warmest love; and as the twain bade adieu, Prince Ahmad, to set her mind at rest, renewed his protestations and sware to her again his solemn oath. Then mounting his horse and followed by his suite (all Jinn-born cavaliers) he set forth with mighty pomp and circumstance, and riding diligently he soon reached his father’s capital. Here he was received with loud acclamations, the like of which had never been known in the land. The Ministers and Officers of State, the citizens and the Ryots all rejoiced with exceeding joy to see him once more, and the folk left their work and with blessings and low obeisances joined the cavalcade; and, crowding around him on every side, escorted him to the palace gates. When the Prince reached the threshold he dismounted and, entering the audience-hall, fell at his father’s feet and kissed them in a transport of filial affection. The Sultan, well nigh distraught for delight at the unexpected sight of Prince Ahmad, rose from his throne and threw himself upon his son’s neck weeping for very joy and kissed his forehead saying, “O dear my child, in despair at the loss of the Lady Nur al-Nihar thou didst suddenly fly from thy home, and, despite all research, nor trace nor sign of thee was to be found however sedulously we sought thee; and I, distracted at thy disappearance, am reduced to this condition in which thou seest me. Where hast thou been this long while, and how hast thou lived all this time?” Replied Prince Ahmad, “’Tis true, O my lord the King, that I was downhearted and distressed to see Prince Ali gain the hand of my cousin, but that is not the whole cause of my absence. Thou mayest remember how, when we three brothers rode at thy command to yonder plain for a trial of archery, my shaft, albeit the place was large and flat, disappeared from sight and none could find where it had fallen. Now so it fortuned that one day in sore heaviness of mind I fared forth alone and unaccompanied to examine the ground thereabout and try if haply I could find my arrow. But when I reached the spot where the shafts of my brothers, Princes Husayn and Ali, had been picked up, I made search in all directions, right and left, before and behind, thinking that thereabouts mine also might come to hand; but all my trouble was in vain: I found neither shaft nor aught else. So walking onwards in obstinate research, I went a long way, and at last despairing, I would have given up the quest, for full well I knew that my bow could not have carried so far, and indeed that ’twere impossible for any marksman to have driven bolt or pile to such distance, when suddenly I espied it lying flat upon a rock some four parasangs339 distant from this place.” The Sultan marvelled with much marvel at his words and the Prince presently resumed, “So when I picked up the arrow, O my lord, and considered it closely I knew it for the very one I had shot, but admired in my mind how it had come to fly so far, and I doubted not but that there was a somewhat mysterious about the matter. While I thus reflected I came upon the place where I have sojourned ever since that day in perfect solace and happiness. I may not tell thee more of my tale than this; for I came only to ease thy mind on my account, and now I pray thee deign grant me thy supreme permission that I return forthright to my home of delights. From time to time I will not cease to wait upon thee and to enquire of thy welfare with all the affection of a son.” Replied the King, “O my child, the sight of thee hath gladdened mine eyes; and I am now satisfied; and not unwillingly I give thee leave to go, since thou art happy in some place so near hand; but shouldst thou at any time delay thy coming hither, say me, how shall I be able to get tidings of thy good health and welfare?” And quoth Prince Ahmad, “O my lord the King, that which thou requirest of me is part of my secret and this must remain deep hidden in my breast: as I said before, I may not discover it to thee nor say aught that might lead to its discovery. However, be not uneasy in thy soul, for I will appear before thee full many a time and haply I may irk thee with continual coming.” “O my son,” rejoined the Sultan, “I would not learn thy secret an thou would keep it from me, but there is one only thing I desire of thee, which is, that ever and anon I may be assured of thine enduring health and happiness. Thou hast my full permission to hie thee home, but forget not at least once a month to come and see me even as now thou dost, lest such forgetfulness cause me anxiety and trouble, cark and care.” So Prince Ahmad tarried with his father three days full-told, but never for a moment did the memory of the Lady Peri-Banu fade from his mind; and on the fourth day he mounted horse and returned with the same pomp and pageantry wherewith he came. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu joyed with exceeding joy at the sight of Prince Ahmad as he returned to his home; and it seemed to her as though they had been parted for three hundred years: such is love that moments of separation are longsome and weary as twelvemonths. The Prince offered much of excuses for his short absence and his words delighted Peri-Banu yet the more. So these twain, lover and beloved, passed the time in perfect happiness, taking their pleasure one with other. Thus a month went by and Prince Ahmad never once mentioned the name of his sire nor expressed a wish to go visit him according to his promise. Noting this change, the Lady Peri-Banu said to him one day, “Thou toldest me aforetime that once in the beginning of each month thou wouldst fare forth and travel to thy father’s court and learn news of his welfare: why then neglectest thou so to do, seeing that he will be distressed and anxiously expecting thee?” Replied Prince Ahmad, “’Tis even as thou sayest, but, awaiting thy command and thy permission, I have forborne to propose the journey to thee.” And she made answer, “Let thy faring and thy returning rest not on my giving thee liberty of leave. At the beginning of each month as it cometh round, do thou ride forth, and from this time forwards thou hast no need to ask permission of me. Stay with thy sire three days full-told and on the fourth come back to me without fail.” Accordingly, on the next day betimes in the morning Prince Ahmad took his departure and as aforetime rode forth with abundant pomp and parade and repaired to the palace of the Sultan his sire, to whom he made his obeisance. On like manner continued he to do each month with a suite of horsemen larger and more brilliant than before, whilst he himself was more splendidly mounted and equipped. And whenever the Crescent appeared in the Western sky he fondly farewelled his wife and paid his visit to the King, with whom he tarried three whole days, and on the fourth returned to dwell with Peri-Banu. But, as each and every time he went, his equipage was greater and grander than the last, at length one of the Wazirs, a favourite and cup-companion of the King, was filled with wonderment and jealousy to see Prince Ahmad appear at the palace with such opulence and magnificence. So he said in himself, “None can tell whence cometh this Prince, and by what means he hath obtained so splendid a suite.” Then of his envy and malice that Wazir fell to plying the King with deceitful words and said, “O my liege lord and mighty sovran, it ill becometh thee to be thus heedless of Prince Ahmad’s proceedings. Seest thou not how day after day his retinue increaseth in numbers and puissance? What an he should plot against thee and cast thee into prison, and take from thee the reins of the realm? Right well thou wottest that inasmuch as thou didst wed Prince Ali to the Lady Nur al-Nihar thou provokedest the wrath of Prince Husayn and Prince Ahmad; so that one of them in the bitterness of his soul renounced the pomps and vanities of this world and hath become a Fakir, whilst the other, to wit; Prince Ahmad, appeareth before thy presence in such inordinate power and majesty. Doubtless they both seek their revenge; and, having gotten thee into their power, the twain will deal treacherously with thee. So I would have thee beware, and again I say beware; and seize the forelock of opportunity ere it be too late; for the wise have said,
‘Thou canst bar a spring with a sod of clay
But when grown ’twill bear a big host away.’”
Thus spake that malicious Wazir; and presently he resumed, “Thou knowest also that when Prince Ahmad would end his three days’ visits he never asketh thy leave nor farewelleth thee nor biddeth adieu to any one of his family. Such conduct is the beginning of rebellion and proveth him to be rancorous of heart. But ’tis for thee in thy wisdom to decide.” These words sank deep in the heart of the simple-minded Sultan and grew a crop of the direst suspicions. He presently thought within himself, “Who knoweth the mind and designs of Prince Ahmad, whether they be dutiful or undutiful towards me? Haply he may be plotting vengeance; so it besitteth me to make enquiries concerning him, to discover where he dwelleth and by what means he hath attained to such puissance and opulence.” Filled with these jealous thoughts, he sent in private one day, unbeknown to the Grand Wazir who would at all times befriend Prince Ahmad, to summon the Witch; and, admitting her by a secret postern to his private chamber, asked of her saying, “Thou didst aforetime learn by thy magical art that Prince Ahmad was alive and didst bring me tidings of him. I am beholden to thee for this good office, and now I would desire of thee to make further quest into his case and ease my mind, which is sore disturbed. Albeit my son still liveth and cometh to visit me every month, yet am I clean ignorant of the place wherein he dwelleth and whence he setteth out to see me; for that he keepeth the matter close hidden from his sire. Go thou forthright and privily, without the knowledge of any, my Wazirs and Nabobs, my courtiers and my household; and make thou diligent research and with all haste bring me word whereabouts he liveth. He now sojourneth here upon his wonted visit; and, on the fourth day, without leave-taking or mention of departure to me or to any of the Ministers and Officers, he will summon his suite and mount his steed; then will he ride to some little distance hence and suddenly disappear. Do thou without stay or delay forego him on the path and lie perdue in some convenient hollow hard by the road whence thou mayest learn where he hometh; then quickly bring me tidings thereof.” Accordingly, the Sorceress departed the presence of the King; and, after walking over the four parasangs, she hid herself within a hollow of the rocks hard by the place where Prince Ahmad had found his arrow, and there awaited his arrival. Early on the morrow the Prince, as was his wont, set out upon his journey without taking leave of his sire or fare welling any of the Ministers. So when they drew nigh, the Sorceress caught sight of the Prince and of the retinue that rode before and beside him; and she saw them enter a hollow way which forked into a many of by-ways; and so steep and dangerous were the cliffs and boulders about the track that hardly could a footman safely pace that path. Seeing this the Sorceress bethought her that it must surely lead to some cavern or haply to a subterraneous passage, or to a souterrain the abode of Jinns and fairies; when suddenly the Prince and all his suite vanished from her view. So she crept out of the hiding-place wherein she had ensconced herself and wandered far and wide seeking, as dillgently as she was able, but never finding the subterraneous passage nor yet could she discern the iron door which Prince Ahmad had espied, for none of human flesh and blood had power to see this save he alone to whom it was made visible by the Fairy Peri-Banu; furthermore it was ever concealed from the prying eyes of womankind. Then said the Sorceress to herself, This toil and moil have I undertaken to no purpose; yea, verily, I have failed to find out that wherefor I came.” So she went forthright back to the Sultan and reported to him all that had betided her, how she had lain in wait amid the cliffs and boulders and had seen the Prince and suite ride up the most perilous of paths and, having entered a hollow way, disappear in an eyetwinkling from her sight. And she ended by saying, “Albeit I strove my utmost to find out the spot wherein the Prince abideth, yet could I on no wise succeed; and I pray thy Highness may grant me time to search further into the matter and to find out this mystery which by skill and caution on my part shall not long abide concealed.” Answered the Sultan, “Be it as thou wilt: I grant thee leisure to make enquiry and after a time I shall await thy return hither."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that moreover the King largessed the Witch with a diamond of large size and of great price, saying, “Take this stone to guerdon for thy trouble and travail and in earnest of future favours; so, when thou shalt return and bring me word that thou hast searched and found out the secret, thou shalt have a Bakhshish of far greater worth and I will make thy heart rejoice with choicest joy and honour thee with highmost honour.” So the Sorceress looked forwards to the coming of the Prince, for well she knew that at the sight of each crescent he rode home to visit his sire and was bound to abide with him three days, even as the Lady Peri-Banu had permitted and had enjoined him. Now when the moon had waxed and waned, on the day before the Prince would leave home upon his monthly visit, the Witch betook her to the rocks and sat beside the place whence she imagined he would issue forth; and next morning early he and his suite, composed of many a mounted knight with his esquire a-foot, who now always accompanied him in increasing numbers, rode forth gallantly through the iron doorway and passed hard by the place where she lay in wait for him. The Sorceress crouched low upon the ground in her tattered rags; and, seeing a heap by his way, the Prince at first supposed that a slice of stone had fallen from the rocks across his path. But as he drew nigh she fell to weeping and wailing with might and main as though in sore dolour and distress, and she ceased not to crave his countenance and assistance with increase of tears and lamentations. The Prince seeing her sore sorrow had pity on her, and reining in his horse, asked her what she had to require of him and what was the cause of her cries and lamentations. At this the cunning crone but cried the more, and the Prince was affected with compassion still livelier at seeing her tears and hearing her broken, feeble words. So when the Sorceress perceived that Prince Ahmad had ruth on her and would fain show favour to her, she heaved a heavy sigh and in woeful tones, mingled with moans and groans, addressed him in these false words, withal holding the hem of his garment and at times stopping as if convulsed with pain, “O my lord and lord of all loveliness, as I was journeying from my home in yonder city upon an errand to such a place, behold, when I came thus far upon my way, suddenly a hot fit of fever seized me and a shivering and a trembling, so that I lost all strength and fell down helpless as thou seest me; and still no power have I in hand or foot to rise from the ground and to return to my place.” Replied the Prince, “Alas, O good woman, there is no house at hand where thou mayest go and be fitly tended and tendered. Howbeit I know a stead whither, an thou wilt, I can convey thee and where by care and kindness thou shalt (Inshallah!) soon recover of thy complaint. Come then with me as best thou canst.” With loud moans and groans the Witch made answer, “So weak am I in every limb and helpless that I can by no means rise off the ground or move save with the help of some friendly hand.” The Prince then bade one of his horsemen lift up the feeble and ailing old woman and set her upon his steed; and the cavalier did his lord’s bidding forthright and mounted her astraddle upon the crupper of his courser: then, Prince Ahmad rode back with her and entering by the iron door carried her to his apartment and sent for Peri-Banu. His wife hurriedly coming forth to the Prince asked him in her flurry, “Is all well and wherefore hast thou come back and what wouldst thou that thou hast sent for me?” Prince Ahmad then told her of the old woman who was healthless and helpless, adding, “Scarce had I set out on my journey when I espied this ancient dame lying hard by the roadside, suffering and in sore distress. My heart felt pity for her to see her in such case and constrained me to bring her hither as I could not leave her to die among the rocks; and I pray thee of thy bounty take her in and give her medicines that she may soon be made whole of this her malady. An thou wilt show this favour I shall not cease to thank thee and be beholden to thee.” — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu looked at the old woman and charged a twain of her handmaidens that they carry her into a room apart and tend her with the tenderest care and the uttermost of diligence. The attendants did as she bade them and transported the Sorceress to the place she had designed. Then Peri-Banu addressed Prince Ahmad saying, “O my lord, I am pleased to see thy pitiful kindness towards this ancient dame, and I surely will look to her case even as thou hast enjoined me; but my heart misgiveth me and much I fear some evil will result from thy goodness. This woman is not so ill as she doth make believe, but practiseth deceit upon thee and I ween that some enemy or envier hath plotted a plot against me and thee. Howbeit go now in peace upon thy journey.” The Prince, who on no wise took to heart the words of his wife, presently replied to her, “O my lady, Almighty Allah forfend thee from all offence! With thee to help and guard me I fear naught of ill: I know of no foeman who would compass my destruction, for I bear no grudge against any living being, and I foresee no evil at the hands of man or Jann.” Thereupon the Prince again took leave of Peri-Banu and repaired with his attendants to the palace of his sire who, by reason of the malice of his crafty Minister, was inwardly afraid to see his son; but not the less he welcomed him with great outward show of love and affection. Meanwhile the two fairy handmaidens, to whom Peri-Banu had given charge of the Witch, bore her away to a spacious room splendidly furnished; and laid her on a bed having a mattress of satin and a brocaded coverlet. Then one of them sat by her side whilst the other with all speed fetched, in a cup of porcelain, an essence which was a sovereign draught for ague and fever. Presently they raised her up and seated her on the couch saying, “Drain thou this drink. It is the water of the Lions’ Fount and whoso tasteth of the same is forthwith made whole of what disease soever he hath.” The Sorceress took the cup with great difficulty and after swallowing the contents lay back on the bed; and the handmaidens spread the quilt over her saying, “Now rest awhile and thou shalt soon feel the virtues of this medicine.” Then they left her to sleep for an hour or so; but presently the Witch, who had feigned sickness to the intent only that she might learn where Prince Ahmad abode and might inform the Sultan thereof, being assured that she had discovered all that she desired, rose up and summoning the damsels said to them, “The drinking of that draught hath restored to me all my health and strength: I now feel hale and hearty once more and my limbs are filled with new life and vigour. So at once acquaint your lady herewith, that I may kiss the hem of her robe and return my thanks for her goodness me-wards, then depart and hie me home again.” Accordingly, the two handmaidens took the Sorceress with them and showed her as they went along the several apartments, each more magnificent and kingly than the other; and at length they reached the belvedere which was the noblest saloon of all, and fitted and filled with furniture exceeding costly and curious. There sat Peri-Banu upon a throne which was adorned with diamonds and rubies, emeralds, pearls and other gems of unwonted size and water, whilst round about her stood fairies of lovely form and features, robed in the richest raiments and awaiting with folded hands her commandments. The Sorceress marvelled with extreme marvel to see the splendour of the chambers and their furniture, but chiefly when she beheld the Lady Peri-Banu seated upon the jewelled throne; nor could she speak a word for confusion and awe, but she bent down low and placed her head upon Peri-Banu’s feet. Quoth the Princess in soft speech and reassuring tones, “O good woman, it pleaseth me greatly to see thee a guest in this my palace, and I joy even more to learn that thou be wholly quit of thy sickness. So now solace thy spirits with walking all round about the place and my servants will accompany thee and show thee what there is worthy of thine inspection.” Hereat the Witch again louted low and kissed the carpet under Peri-Banu’s feet, and took leave of her hostess in goodly phrase and with great show of gratitude for her favours. The handmaids then led her round the palace and displayed to her all the rooms, which dazed and dazzled her sight so that she could not find words to praise them sufficiently. Then she went her ways and the fairies escorted her past the iron doorway whereby Prince Ahmad had brought her in, and left her, bidding her God-speed and blessing her; and the foul crone with many thanks took the road to her own home. But when she had walked to some distance she was minded to see the iron door, so might she with ease know it again; so she went back, but lo and behold! the entrance had vanished and was invisible to her as to all other women. Accordingly, after searching on all sides and pacing to and fro and finding nor sign nor trace of palace or portal, she repaired in despair to the city and, creeping along a deserted path-way, entered the palace, according to her custom, by the private postern. When safely within she straightway sent word by an eunuch to the Sultan, who ordered that she be brought before him. She approached him with troubled countenance, whereat, perceiving that she had failed to carry out her purpose, he asked, “What news? Hast thou accomplished thy design or hast thou been baffled therein?” — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Sorceress, who was a mere creature of the malicious Wazir, replied, “O King of kings, this matter have I fully searched out even as thou gavest command, and I am about to tell thee all that hath betided me. The signs of sorrow and marks of melancholy thou notest upon my countenance are for other cause which narrowly concerneth thy welfare.” Then she began to recount her adventure in these terms, “Now when I had reached the rocks I sat me down feigning sickness; and, as Prince Ahmad passed that way and heard my complaining and saw my grievous condition, he had compassion on me. After some ‘said and say’ he took me with him by a subterranean passage and through an iron door to a magnificent palace and gave me in charge of a fairy, Peri-Banu hight, of passing beauty and loveliness, such as human eye hath never yet seen. Prince Ahmad bade her make me her guest for some few days and bring me a medicine which would complete my cure, and she to please him at once appointed handmaidens to attend upon me. So I was certified that the twain were one flesh, husband and wife. I feigned to be exceeding frail and feeble and made as though I had not strength to walk or even to stand; whereat the two damsels supported me, one on either side, and I was carried into a room where they gave me somewhat to drink and put me upon a bed to rest and sleep. Then thought I to myself:—‘Verily I have gained the object wherefor I had feigned sickness’; and I was assured that it availed no more to practise deceit. Accordingly, after a short while I arose and said to the attendants that the draught which they had given me to drink had cut short the fever and had restored strength to my limbs and life to my frame. Then they led me to the presence of the Lady Peri-Banu, who was exceeding pleased to see me once more hale and hearty, and bade her handmaidens conduct me around the palace and show each room in its beauty and splendour; after which I craved leave to wend my ways and here am I again to work thy will.” When thus she had made known to the King all that had betided her, she resumed, “Perchance, on hearing of the might and majesty, opulence and magnificence of the Lady Peri-Banu, thou wilt be gladdened and say within thyself, “Tis well that Prince Ahmad is wedded to this Fairy and hath gotten for himself such wealth and power;’ but to the thinking of this thy slave the matter is quite other. It is not well, I dare avouch, that thy son should possess such puissance and treasures, for who knoweth but that he may by good aid of Peri-Banu bring about division and disturbance in the realm? Beware of the wiles and malice of women. The Prince is bewitched with love of her, and peradventure at her incitement he may act towards thee otherwise than right, and lay hands on thy hoards and seduce thy subjects and become master of thy kingdom; and albeit he would not of his own free will do aught to his father and his forbears save what was pious and dutiful, yet the charms of his Princess may work upon him little by little and end by making him a rebel and what more I may not say. Now mayest thou see that the matter is a weighty, so be not heedless but give it full consideration.” Then the Sorceress made ready to gang her gait when spake the King, saying, “I am beholden to thee in two things; the first, that thou tookest upon thyself much toil and travail, and on my behalf riskedst thy life to learn the truth anent my son Prince Ahmad. Secondly, I am thankful for that thou hast given me a rede so sound and such wholesome counsel.” So saying, he dismissed her with the highmost honour; but no sooner had she left the palace than he, sore distraught, summoned his second Wazir, the malicious Minister who had incited him against Prince Ahmad, and when he and his friends appeared in the presence he laid before them the whole matter and asked of them, saying, “What is your counsel, and what must I do to protect myself and my kingdom against the wiles of this Fairy?” Replied one of his councillors, “’Tis but a trifling matter and the remedy is simple and nearhand. Command that Prince Ahmad, who is now within the city if not in the palace, be detained as one taken prisoner. Let him not be put to death, lest haply the deed may engender rebellion; but at any rate place him under arrest and if he prove violent clap him in irons."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that this felon counsel pleased the malicious Minister and all his fautors and flatterers highly approved his rede. The Sultan kept silence and made no reply, but on the morrow he sent and summoned the Sorceress and debated with her whether he should or should not cast Prince Ahmad into prison. Quoth she, “O King of kings, this counsel is clean contrary to sound sense and right reason. An thou throw Prince Ahmad into gaol, so must thou also do with all his knights and their esquires; and inasmuch as they are Jinns and Márids, who can tell their power of reprisals? Nor prison-cells nor gates of adamant can keep them in; they will forthwith escape and report such violence to the Fairy who, wroth with extreme wrath to find her husband doomed to durance vile like a common malefactor, and that too for no default or crime but by a treacherous arrest, will assuredly deal the direst of vengeance on thy head and do us a damage we shall not be able to forfend. An thou wilt confide in me, I will advise thee how to act, whereby thou mayest win thy wish and no evil will come nigh thee or thy kingship. Thou knowest well that to Jinns and Fairies is power given of doing in one short moment deeds marvellous and wondrous, which mortals fail to effect after long years of toil and trouble. Now whenas thou goest a-hunting or on other expedition, thou requirest pavilions for thyself and many tents for thy retinue and attendants and soldiery; and in making ready and transporting such store much time and wealth are wastefully expended. I would advise, O King of kings, that thou try Prince Ahmad by the following test: do thou bid him bring to thee a Sháhmiyánah340 so long and so broad that it will cover and lodge the whole of thy court and men-at-arms and camp-followers, likewise the beasts of burthen; and yet it must be so light that a man may hold it in the hollow of his hand and carry it whithersoever he listeth.” Then, after holding her peace for a while, she added, still addressing the Sultan, “And as soon as Prince Ahmad shall acquit himself of this commission, do thou demand of him a somewhat still greater and more wondrous wherewith I will make thee ware, and which he will find grievous of execution. On this wise shalt thou fill thy treasury with rare inventions and strange, the handicraft of Jánn, nor will this cease till such time in fine when thy son shall be at his wits’ end to carry out thy requirements. Then, humbled and abashed, he will never dare to enter thy capital or even thy presence; and thus shalt thou be saved from fear of harm at his hands, and thou shalt not have need to put him in gaol or, worse still, to do him dead.” Hearing these words of wisdom, the Sultan made known the Witch’s device to his advisers and asked them what they deemed thereof. They held their peace and answered not a word or good or ill; while he himself highly approved it and said no more. Next day Prince Ahmad came to visit the King, who welcomed him with overflowing affection and clasping him to his bosom kissed him on eyes and forehead. Long time they sat conversing on various subjects, till at length the Sultan finding an occasion spake thus, “O dear my son, O Ahmad, for many a day have I been sad at heart and sorrowful of soul because of separation from thee, and when thou camest back I was gladdened with great gladness at sight of thee, and albeit thou didst and dost still withhold from me the knowledge of thy whereabouts, I refrained from asking thee or seeking to find out thy secret, since it was not according to thy mind to tell me of thine abode. Now, however, I have heard say that thou art wedded to a mighty Jinníyah341, of passing beauty; and the tidings please me with the highmost possible pleasure. I desire not to learn aught from thee concerning thy Fairy-wife save whatso thou wouldst entrust to me of thine own free will; but, say me, should I at any time require somewhat of thee, canst thou obtain it from her? Doth she regard thee with such favour that she will not deny thee anything thou askest of her?” Quoth the Prince, “O my lord, what dost thou demand of me? My wife is devoted to her husband in heart and soul, so prithee let me learn what it is thou wouldst have of me and her.” Replied the Sultan, Thou knowest that ofttimes I fare a-hunting or on some foray and fray, when I have great need of tents and pavilions and Shahmiyanahs, with herds and troops of camels and mules and other beasts of burden to carry the camp from place to place. I would, therefore, that thou bring me a tent so light that a man may carry it in the hollow of his hand, and yet so large that it may contain my court and all my host and camp and suttlers and bât-animals. An thou wouldst ask the Lady for this gift I know full well that she can give it; and hereby shalt thou save me much of trouble in providing carriage for the tentage and spare me much waste and loss of beasts and men.” The Prince replied, “O my sire the Sultan, trouble not thy thought. I will at once make known thy wish to my wife, the Lady Peri-Banu; and, albeit little I wot an fairies have the faculty of making a pavilion such as thou describest, or indeed (supposing that they have such power), an she will grant me or not grant me her aidance; and, moreover, although I cannot promise thee such present, yet whatsoever lieth in my ability to do, that will I gladly do for thy service."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that quoth the King to Prince Ahmad, “Shouldst thou perchance fail in this matter and bring me not the gift required, O my son, I will never see thy face again. A sorry husband thou, in good sooth, if thy wife refuse so mean a thing and hasten not to do all thou biddest her do; giving thee to see that thou art of small value and consequence in her eyes, and that her love for thee is a quantity well nigh to naught. But do thou, O my child, go forth and straightway ask her for the tent. An she give it thee know thou she desireth thee and thou art the dearest of all things to her; and I have been informed that she loveth thee with all her heart and soul and will by no means refuse thee aught thou requirest, were it even the balls of her eyes.” Now Prince Ahmad was ever wont to tarry three days each month with the Sultan his sire, and return to his spouse on the fourth; but this time he stayed two days only and farewelled his father on the third. As he passed into the palace Peri-Banu could not but note that he was sad at heart and downcast of face; so she asked of him, “Is all well with thee? Why hast thou come to-day and not tomorrow from the presence of the King thy father, and why carriest thou so triste a countenance?” Whereupon, after kissing her brow and fondly embracing her, he told her the whole matter, first to last, and she made answer, “I will speedily set thy mind at rest, for I would not see thee so saddened for a moment longer. Howbeit, O my love, from this petition of the Sultan thy sire I am certified that his end draweth nigh, and he will soon depart this world to the mercy of Allah the Almighty.342 Some enemy hath done this deed and much of mischief hath made for thee; and the result is that thy father, all unmindful of his coming doom, cloth seek diligently his own destruction.” The Prince, anxious and alarmed, thus answered his wife, “Almighty Allah be praised, the King my liege lord is in the best of health and showeth no sign of disorder or decrepitude: ’tis but this morning I left him hale and hearty, and in very sooth I never saw him in better case. Strange, indeed, that thou shouldst ken what shall betide him before I have told thee aught concerning him, and especially how he hath come to learn of our marriage and of our home.” Quoth Peri-Banu, “O my Prince, thou knowest what I said to thee whenas I saw the old dame whom thou broughtest hither as one afflicted with the ague and fever. That woman, who is a Witch of Satan’s breed, hath disclosed to thy father all he sought to learn concerning this our dwelling-place. And notwithstanding that I saw full clearly she was nor sick nor sorry, but only feigning a fever, I gave her medicine to drink which cureth complaints of all kinds, and she falsely made believe that by its virtues she had recovered health and strength. So when she came to take leave of me, I sent her with two of my damsels and bid them display to her every apartment in the palace together with its furniture and decorations, that she might better know the condition of me and thee. Now all this did I on thy account only, for thou badest me show compassion to the ancient woman and I was rejoiced to see her departing safe and sound and in the best of spirits. Save her alone, no human being had ever power to know aught of this place, much less to come hither.” Prince Ahmad hearing these words thanked and praised her and said, “O sun-faced beauty, I would beg of thee to grant me a boon whereof my father hath made request of me; to wit, a Shahmiyanah of such dimensions that it may shelter him and his many, his camp and bat-cattle and withal may be carried in the hollow of the hand. An such marvel exist I wot not, yet would I do my utmost to procure it, and carry it to him right loyally.” Quoth she, “Why trouble thyself for so small a matter? I will forthright send for it and give it thee.” Then she summoned one of her handmaids who was treasurer to her and said, “O Nur Jehán,343 go thou at once and bring me a pavilion of such and such a fashion.” So she fared forth without delay and as quickly came back with the pavilion which, at her lady’s bidding, she placed in the palm of Prince Ahmad’s hand. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Ahmad hent the pavilion in hand and thought to himself, “What is this Peri-Banu giveth me? Surely she doth make a mock of me.” His wife, however, reading his mind in his face fell to laughing aloud, and asked, “What is it, O my dearling Prince? Dost thou think that I am jesting and jibing at thee?” Then she continued, addressing the treasurer Nur Jehan, “Take now yon tent from Prince Ahmad and set it upon the plain that he may see its vast size and know if it be such an one as required by the Sultan his sire.” The handmaid took the pavilion and pitched it afar from the Palace; and yet one end thereof reached thereto from the outer limit of the plain; and so immense was its size that (as Prince Ahmad perceived) there was room therein for all the King’s court; and, were two armies ranged under it with their camp-followers and bât-animals, one would on no wise crowd or inconvenience the other. He then begged pardon of Peri-Banu saying, “I wot not that the Shahmiyanah was so prodigious of extent and of so marvellous a nature; wherefore I misdoubted when first I saw it.” The Treasurer presently struck the tent and returned it to the palm of his hand; then, without stay or delay, he took horse and followed by his retinue rode back to the royal presence, where after obeisance and suit and service he presented the tent. The Sultan also, at first sight of the gift, thought it a small matter, but marvelled with extreme marvel to see its size when pitched, for it would have shaded his capital and its suburbs. He was not, however, wholly satisfied, for the size of the pavilion now appeared to him superfluous; but his son assured him that it would always fit itself to its contents. He thanked the Prince for bringing him so rare a present, saying, “O my son, acquaint thy consort with my obligation to her and offer my grateful thanks for this her bounteous gift. Now indeed know I of a truth that she doth love thee with the whole of her heart and soul and all my doubts and fears are well nigh set at rest.” Then the King commanded they should pack up the tent and store it with all care in the royal treasury. Now strange it is but true, that when the Sultan received this rare present from the Prince, the fear and doubt, the envy and jealousy of his son, which the Witch and the malicious Wazir and his other illadvisers had bred in his breast, waxed greater and livelier than before; because he was now certified that in very truth the Jinniyah was gracious beyond measure to her mate and that, notwithstanding the great wealth and power of the sovereign, she could outvie him in mighty deeds for the aidance of her husband. Accordingly, he feared with excessive fear lest haply she seek opportunity to slay him in favour of the Prince whom she might enthrone in his stead. So he bade bring the Witch who had counselled him aforetime, and upon whose sleight and malice he now mainly relied. When he related to her the result of her rede, she took thought for a while; then, raising her brow said, “O King of kings, thou troublest thyself for naught: thou needest only command Prince Ahmad to bring thee of the water of the Lions’ Spring. He must perforce for his honour’s sake fulfil thy wish, and if he fail he will for very shame not dare to show his face again at court. No better plan than this canst thou adopt; so look to it nor loiter on thy way.” Next day at eventide, as the Sultan was seated in full Darbar surrounded by his Wazirs and Ministers, Prince Ahmad came forwards and making due obeisance took seat by his side and below him. Hereat, the King addressed him, as was his wont, with great show of favour saying, “It delighteth me mightily that thou hast brought me the tent I required of thee; for surely in my Treasury there be naught so rare and strange. Yet one other thing lack I, and couldst thou bring it me I shall rejoice with joy exceeding. I have heard tell that the Jinniyah, thy consort, maketh constant use of a water which floweth from the Lions’ Spring, the drinking whereof doeth away with fevers and all other deadly diseases. I know thou art anxious that I live in health; and thou wilt gladden me by bringing somewhat of that water, so I may drink thereof when occasion shall require, and well I wot that, as thou valuest my love and affection thee wards, thou wilt not refuse to grant me my request.” Prince Ahmad on hearing this demand was struck with surprise that his sire should so soon make a second demand. So he kept silence awhile, thinking within himself, I have managed by some means to obtain the tent from the Lady Peri-Banu, but Allah only knoweth how she will now act, and whether this fresh request will or will not rouse her wrath. Howbeit I know that she will on no wise deny me any boon I may ask of her.” So after much hesitation Prince Ahmad made reply, “O my lord the King, I have no power to do aught in this matter, which resteth only with my spouse the Princess; yet will I petition her to give the water; and, if she vouchsafe consent I will bring it straight to thee. Indeed I cannot promise thee such boon with all certainty: I would gladly do my endeavour in all and everything that can benefit thee, but to ask her for this water is a work more weighty than asking for the tent.” Next day the Prince took his departure and returned to Peri-Banu; and after loving embraces and greetings quoth he, “O my lady and light of my eyes, the Sultan my sire sendeth thee his grateful thanks for the granting of his wish; to wit, the pavilion; and now he adventureth himself once more and, certified of thy bounty and beneficence, he would pray from thy hand the boon of a little water from the Lions’ Spring. Withal I would assure thee that an the giving of this water please thee not, let the matter be clean forgotten; for to do all thou willest is my one and only wish.” Peri-Banu made reply, “Methinks the Sultan, thy sire, would put both me and thee to the test by requiring such boons as those suggested to him by the Sorceress.” — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu said further to Prince Ahmad, “Natheless I will grant this largesse also as the Sultan hath set his mind upon it, and no harm shall come therefrom to me or to thee, albe ’tis a matter of great risk and danger, and it is prompted by not a little of malice and ungraciousness. But give careful heed to my words, nor neglect thou aught of them, or thy destruction is certain-sure. I now will tell thee what to do. In the hall of yonder castle which riseth on that mountain is a fountain sentinelled by four lions fierce and ravening; and they watch and ward the path that leadeth thereto, a pair standing on guard whilst the other two take their turn to rest, and thus no living thing hath power to pass by them. Yet will I make known to thee the means whereby thou mayest win thy wish without any hurt or harm befalling thee from the furious beasts.” Thus saying she drew from an ivory box a clew of thread and, by means of a needle one of those wherewith she had been plying her work, made thereof a ball. This she placed in the hands of her husband, and said, “First, be thou careful that thou keep about thee with all diligence this ball, whose use I shall presently explain to thee. Secondly, choose for thyself two horses of great speed, one for thine own riding, whilst on the other thou shalt load the carcass of a freshly slaughtered sheep cut into four quarters. In the third place, take with thee a phial wherewith I will provide thee, and this is for carrying the water which thou, Inshallah — God willing — shalt bring back. As soon as the morn shall morrow do thou arise with the light and go forth riding thy chosen steed and leading the other alongside of thee by the reins. When thou shalt reach the iron portals which open upon the castle-court, at no great distance from the gate, do thou cast the ball of thread upon the ground before thee. Forthwith it will begin rolling onwards of its own will towards the castle door; and do thou follow it through the open entrance until such time as it stop its course. At this moment thou shalt see the four lions; and the two that wake and watch will rouse the twain that sleep and rest. All four will turn their jaws to the ground and growl and roar with hideous howlings, and make as though about to fall upon thee and tear thee limb from limb. However, fear not nor be dismayed, but ride boldly on and throw to the ground from off the led-horse the sheep’s quarters, one to each lion. See that thou alight not from thy steed, but gore his ribs with thy shovel stirrup344 and ride with all thy might and main up to the basin which gathereth the water. Here dismount and fill the phial whilst the lions will be busied eating. Lastly, return with all speed and the beasts will not prevent thy passing by them.” Next day, at peep of morn, Prince Ahmad did according to all that Peri-Banu had bidden him and rode forth to the castle. Then, having passed through the iron portals and crossed the court and opened the door, he entered the hall, where he threw the quarters of the sheep before the lions, one to each, and speedily reached the Spring. He filled his phial with water from the basin and hurried back with all haste. But when he had ridden some little distance he turned about and saw two of the guardian lions following upon his track; however, he was on no wise daunted but drew his sabre from the sheath to prepare him for self-protection. Hereat one of the twain seeing him bare his brand for defence, retired a little way from the road and, standing at gaze, nodded his head and wagged his tail, as though to pray the Prince to put up his scymitar and to assure him that he might ride in peace and fear no peril. The other lion then sprang forwards ahead of him and kept close him, and the two never ceased to escort him until they reached the city, nay even the gate of the Palace. The second twain also brought up the rear till Prince Ahmad had entered the Palace-door; and, when they were certified of this, all four went back by the way they came. Seeing such wondrous spectacle, the towns-folk all fled in dire dismay, albeit the enchanted beasts molested no man; and presently some mounted horsemen espying their lord riding alone and unattended came up to him and helped him alight. The Sultan was sitting in his audience-hall conversing with his Wazirs and Ministers when his son appeared before him; and Prince Ahmad, having greeted him and blessed him and, in dutiful fashion, prayed for his permanence of existence and prosperity and opulence, placed before his feet the phial full of the water from the Lions’ Spring, saying, “Lo, I have brought thee the boon thou desiredst of me. This water is most rare and hard to obtain; nor is there in all thy Treasure-house aught so notable and of such value as this. If ever thou fall ill of any malady (Almighty Allah forfend this should be in thy Destiny!) then drink a draught thereof and forthwith thou shalt be made whole of whatso distemper thou hast.” When Prince Ahmad had made an end of speaking, the Sultan, with all love and affection, grace and honour, embraced him and kissed his head; then, seating him on his right said, “O my son, I am beholden to thee, beyond count and measure, for that thou hast adventured thy life and brought this water with great irk and risk from so perilous a place.” Now the Witch had erewhile informed the King concerning the Lions’ Spring and of the mortal dangers which beset the site; so that he knew right well how gallant was his son’s derring-do; and presently he said, “Say me, O my child, how couldst thou venture thither and escape from the lions and broughtest back the water, thyself remaining safe and sound?” — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince replied, “By thy favour, O my lord the Sultan, have I returned in safety from that stead mainly because I did according to the bidding of my spouse, the Lady Peri-Banu; and I have brought the water from the Lions’ Spring only by carrying out her commands.” Then he made known to his father all that had befallen him in going and returning; and when the Sultan noted the pre-eminent valiance and prowess of his son he only feared the more, and the malice and the rancour, envy and jealousy which filled his heart waxed tenfold greater than before. However, dissembling his true sentiments he dismissed Prince Ahmad and betaking him to his private chamber at once sent word to bid the Witch appear in the presence; and when she came, he told her of the Prince’s visit and all about the bringing of the water from the Lions’ Spring. She had already heard somewhat thereof by reason of the hubbub in the city at the coming of the lions; but, as soon as she had given ear to the whole account, she marvelled with mighty marvel and, after whispering in the Sultan’s ear her new device, said to him in triumph, “O King of kings, this time thou shalt lay a charge on the Prince and such commandment methinks will trouble him and it shall go hard with him to execute aught thereof.” “Thou sayest well,” replied the Sovran, “now indeed will I try this plan thou hast projected for me.” Wherefore, next day whenas Prince Ahmad came to the presence of his sire, the King said to him, “O dear my child, it delighteth me exceedingly to see thy virtue and valour and the filial love wherewith thou art fulfilled, good gifts chiefly shown by obtaining for me the two rarities I asked of thee. And now one other and final requirement I have of thee; and, shouldst thou avail to satisfy my desire, I shall be wellpleased in my beloved son and render thanks to him for the rest of my days.” Prince Ahmad answered, “What is the boon thou requirest? I will for my part do thy bidding as far as in me lieth.” Then quoth the King in reply to the Prince, “I would fain have thee bring me a man of size and stature no more than three feet high, with beard full twenty ells in length, who beareth on his shoulder a quarter staff of steel, thirteen score pounds in weight, which he wieldeth with ease and swingeth around his head without wrinkle on brow, even as men wield cudgels of wood.” On this wise the Sultan, led astray by the Doom of Destiny and heedless alike of good and evil, asked that which should bring surest destruction upon himself. Prince Ahmad also, with blind obedience out of pure affection to his parent, was ready to supply him with all he required unknowing what was prepared for him in the Secret Purpose. Accordingly he said, “O my sire the Sultan, I trow me ’twill be hard to find, all the world over, a man such as thou desirest, still I will work my best to do thy bidding.” Thereupon the Prince retired from the presence and returned, as usual, to his palace where he greeted Peri-Banu with love and gladness; but his face was troubled and his heart was heavy at the thought of the King’s last behest. Perceiving his pre-occupation the Princess asked him, saying, “O dear my lord, what tidings bringest thou for me to-day?” Hereto replied he, “The Sultan at each visit requireth of me some new thing and burtheneth me with his requests; and to-day he purposeth to try me and, in the hopes of putting me to shame, he asketh somewhat which ’twere vain to hope I can find in all the world.” Thereupon Prince Ahmad told her all the King had said to him. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu hearing these words said to the Prince, “Trouble not thyself at all in this matter. Thou didst venture at great risk to carry off for thy father water from the Lions’ Spring and thou succeededst in winning thy wish. Now this task is on no wise more difficult or dangerous than was that: nay ’tis the easier for that he thou describest is none other than Shabbar, my brothergerman. Although we both have the same parents, yet it pleased Almighty Allah to enform us in different figures and to make him unlike his sister as being in mortal mould can be. Moreover he is valiant and adventurous, always seeking some geste and exploit whereby to further my interest, and right willingly doth he carry out whatso he undertaketh. He is shaped and formed as the Sultan thy sire hath described, nor useth he any weapons save the Nabbút345 or quarter staff of steel. And see now I will send for him, but be not thou dismayed at sighting him.” Replied Prince Ahmad, “If he be in truth thine own brother what matter how he looketh? I shall be pleased to see him as when one welcometh a valued friend or a beloved kinsman. Wherefore should I fear to look upon him?” Hearing these words Peri-Banu despatched one of her attendants who brought to her from her private treasury a chafing-dish of gold; then she bade a fire be lit therein, and sending for a casket of noble metals studded with gems, the gift of her kinsmen, she took therefrom some incense and cast it upon the flames. Herewith issued a dense smoke spireing high in air and spreading all about the palace; and a few moments after, Peri-Banu who had ceased her conjurations cried, “Lookye my brother Shabbar cometh! canst thou distinguish his form?” The Prince looked up and saw a mannikin in stature dwarfish and no more than three feet high, and with a boss on breast and a hump on back; withal he carried himself with stately mien and majestic air. On his right shoulder was borne his quarter staff of steel thirteen score pounds in weight. His beard was thick and twenty cubits in length but arranged so skilfully that it stood clear off from the ground; he wore also a twisted pair of long mustachios curling up to his ears, and all his face was covered with long pile. His eyes were not unlike unto pig’s eyes; and his head, on which was placed a crown-like coiffure, was enormous of bulk, contrasting with the meanness of his stature. Prince Ahmad sat calmly beside his wife, the Fairy, and felt no fear as the figure approached; and presently Shabbar walked up and glancing at him asked Peri-Banu saying, “Who be this mortal who sitteth hard by thee?” Hereto she replied, “O my brother, this is my beloved husband, Prince Ahmad, son of the Sultan of Hindostan. I sent thee not an invitation to the wedding as thou wast then engaged on some great expedition; now, however, by the grace of Almighty Allah thou hast returned triumphant and victorious over thy foes, wherefore I have summoned thee upon a matter which nearly concerneth me.” Hearing these words Shabbar looked graciously at Prince Ahmad, saying, “O my beloved sister, is there any service I can render to him?” and she replied, “The Sultan his sire desireth ardently to see thee, and I pray thee go forthright to him and take the Prince with thee by way of guide.” Said he, “This instant I am ready to set forth;” but said she, “Not yet, O my brother. Thou art fatigued with journeying; so defer until the morrow thy visit to the King, and this evening I will make known to thee all that concerneth Prince Ahmad.” Presently the time came; so Peri-Banu informed her brother Shabbar concerning the King and his ill-counsellors; but she dwelt mainly upon the misdeeds of the old woman, the Witch; and how she had schemed to injure Prince Ahmad and despitefully prevent his going to city or court, and she had gained such influence over the Sultan that he had given up his will to hers and ceased not doing whatso she bade him. Next day at dawn Shabbar the Jinn and Prince Ahmad set out together upon a visit to the Sultan; and when they had reached the city gates, all the folk, nobles and commons, were struck with consternation at the dwarf’s hideous form; and, flying on every side in affright and running into shops and houses, barred the doors and closed the casements and hid themselves therein. So panic-stricken indeed was their flight that many feet lost shoes and sandals in running, while from the heads of others their loosened turbands fell to earth. And when they twain approached the palace through streets and squares and market-places desolate as the Desert of Samáwah,346 all the keepers of the gates took to their heels at sight of Shabbar and fled, so there was none to hinder their entering. They walked straight on to the audience-chamber where the Sultan was holding Darbar, and they found in attendance on him a host of Ministers and Councillors, great and small, each standing in his proper rank and station. They too on seeing Shabbar speedily took flight in dire dismay and hid themselves; also the guards had deserted their posts nor cared in any way to let or stay the twain. The Sovran still sat motionless on his throne, where Shabbar went up to him with lordly mien and royal dignity and cried, “O King, thou hast expressed a wish to see me; and lo, I am here. Say now what wouldst thou have me do?"— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the King made no reply to Shabbar, but held up his hands before his eyes that he might not behold that frightful figure, and turning his head would fain have fled in terror. Shabbar was filled with fury at this rudeness on the part of the Sultan, and was wroth with exceeding wrath to think that he had troubled himself to come at the bidding of such a craven, who now on seeing him would fain run away. So the Jinn, without an instant’s delay, raised his quarter staff of steel, and, swinging it twice in air, before Prince Ahmad could reach the throne or on any wise interfere, struck the Sultan so fiercely upon the poll that his skull was smashed and his brains were scattered over the floor. And when Shabbar had made an end of this offender, he savagely turned upon the Grand Wazir who stood on the Sultan’s right and incontinently would have slain him also, but the Prince craved pardon for his life and said, “Kill him not: he is my friend and hath at no time said one evil word against me. But such is not the case with the others, his fellows.” Hearing these words the infuriated Shabbar fell upon the Ministers and ill-counsellors on either side, to wit, all who had devised evil devices against Prince Ahmad, and slew them each and every and suffered none to escape save only those who had taken flight and hidden themselves. Then, going from the hall of justice to the courtyard, the Dwarf said to the Wazir whose life the Prince had saved, “Harkye, there is a Witch who beareth enmity against my brother, the husband of my sister. See that thou produce her forthright; likewise the villain who filled his father’s mind with hate and malice, envy and jealousy against him, so may I quite them in full measure for their misdeeds.” The Grand Wazir produced them all, first the Sorceress, and then the malicious minister with his rout of fautors and flatterers, and Shabbar felled them one after the other with his quarter staff of steel and killed them pitilessly, crying to the Sorceress, “This is the end of all thy machinations with the King, and this is the fruit of thy deceit and treachery; so learn not to feign thyself sick.” And in the blindness of his passion he would have slain all the inhabitants of the city, but Prince Ahmad prevented him and pacified him with soft and flattering words. Hereupon Shabbar habited his brother in the royal habit and seated him on the throne and proclaimed him Sultan of Hindostan. The people all, both high and low, rejoiced with exceeding joy to hear these tidings, for Prince Ahmad was beloved by every one; so they crowded to swear fealty and bring presents and Nazaránahs347 and raised shouts of acclamation crying out, “Long live King Ahmad!” When all this was done, Shabbar sent for his sister, Peri-Banu, and made her Queen under the title of Shahr-Banu;348 and in due time taking leave of her and of King Ahmad, the Jinni returned to his own home. And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that after these things King Ahmad summoned Prince Ali his brother and Nur al-Nihar and made him governor of a large city hard by the capital, and dismissed him thither in high state and splendour. Also he commissioned an official to wait upon Prince Husayn and tell him all the tidings, and sent word saying, “I will appoint thee ruler over any capital or country thy soul desireth; and, if thou consent, I will forward thee letters of appointment.” But inasmuch as the Prince was wholly content and entirely happy in Darwaysh-hood, he cared naught for rule or government or aught of worldly vanities; so he sent back the official with his duty and grateful thanks, requesting that he might be left to live his life in solitude and renunciation of matters mundane. Now when Queen Shahrazad had made an end of telling her story and yet the night was not wholly spent, King Shahryar spake saying, “This thy story, admirable and most wonderful, hath given me extreme delight; and I pray thee do thou tell us another tale till such time as the last hours of this our night be passed.” She replied, “Be it as thou wilt, O auspicious King: I am thy slave to do as thou shalt bid.” Then she began to relate the tale of
314 “Bánú” = a lady, a dame of high degree generally, e.g. the (Shah’s ) Banu-i-Harem in James Morier (“The Mirza,” iii. 50), who rightly renders Pari Banu = Pari of the first quality. “Peri” (Parí) in its modern form has a superficial resemblance to “Fairy;” but this disappears in the “Pairika” of the Avesta and the “Pairik” of the modern Parsee. In one language only, the Multání, there is a masculine form for the word “Pará” = a he-fairy (Scinde, ii. 203). In Al-Islam these Peris are beautiful feminine spirits who, created after the “Dívs” (Tabari, i. 7), mostly believe in Allah and the Koran and desire the good of mankind: they are often attacked by the said Dívs, giants or demons, who imprison them in cages hung to the highest trees, and here the captives are visited by their friends who feed them with the sweetest of scents. I have already contrasted them with the green-coated pygmies to which the grotesque fancy of Northern Europe has reduced them. Bánú in Pers. = a princess, a lady, and is still much used, e.g. Bánú-í-Harim, the Dame of the Serraglio, whom foreigners call “Queen of Persia,” and Árám-Banu=“the calm Princess,” a nickname. A Greek story equivalent of Prince Ahmad is told by Pio in Contes Populaires Grecs (No. ii. p. 98) and called, the Golden box. Three youths () love the same girl and agree that whoever shall learn the best craft ( X) shall marry her; one becomes an astrologer, the second can raise the dead, and the third can run faster than air. They find her at death’s door, and her soul, which was at her teeth ready to start, goes down (, ).
315 Light of the Day.
316 Galland has “Bisnagar,” which the H. V. corrupts to Bishan-Garh = Vishnu’s Fort, an utter misnomer. Bisnagar, like Bijnagar, Beejanuggur, Vizianuggur, etc., is a Prakrit corruption of the Sanskrit Vijáyanagara = City of Victory, the far-famed Hindu city and capital of the Narasingha or Lord of Southern India, mentioned in The Nights, vols. vi. 18; ix. 84. Nicolo de’ Conti in the xvth century found it a magnificent seat of Empire some fifteen marches south of the pestilential mountains which contained the diamond mines. Accounts of its renown and condition in the last generation have been given by James Grant (“Remarks on the Dekkan”) and by Captain Moore (“Operations of Little’s Detachment against Tippoo Sultan”). The latest description of it is in “The Indian Empire,” by Sir William W. Hunter. Vijáyanagar, village in Bellary district, Madras, lat. 15 degrees 18’ N., long. 76 degrees 30’ E., pop. (1871), 437, inhabiting 172 houses. The proper name of this village is Hampi, but Vijáyanagar was the name of the dynasty (?) and of the kingdom which had its capital here and was the last great Hindu power of the South. Founded by two adventurers in the middle of the xivth century, it lasted for two centuries till its star went down at Tálikot in A. D. 1565. For a description of the ruins of the old city of Vijáyanagar, which covers a total area of nine square miles, see “Murray’s Handbook for Madras,” by E. B. Eastwick (1879), vol. ix. p. 235. Authentic history in Southern India begins with the Hindu kingdom of Vijáyanagar, or Narsinha, from A. D. 1118 to 1565. The capital can still be traced within the Madras district of Bellary, on the right bank of the Tungabhadra river — vast ruins of temples, fortifications, tanks and bridges, haunted by hyænas and snakes. For at least three centuries Vijáyanagar ruled over the southern part of the Indian triangle. Its Rajas waged war and made peace on equal terms with the Mohamadan sultans of the Deccan. See vol. iv. p. 335, Sir W. W. Hunter’s “Imperial Gazetteer of India,” Edit. 1881.
317 The writer means the great Bazar, the Indian “Chauk,” which = our English Carfax or Carfex (Carrefour) and forms the core of ancient cities in the East. It is in some places, as Damascus, large as one of the quarters, and the narrow streets or lanes, vaulted over or thatched, are all closed at night by heavy doors well guarded by men and dogs. Trades are still localised, each owning its own street, after the fashion of older England, where we read of Drapers’ Lane and Butchers’ Row; Lombard Street, Cheapside and Old Jewry.
318 The local name of the Patna ganzes. The term was originally applied to the produce of the Coan looms, which, however, was anticipated in ancient Egypt. See p. 287 of “L’Archéologie Égyptienne” (Paris, A. Quantin) of the learned Professor G. Maspero, a most able popular work by a savant who has left many regrets on the banks of Nilus.
319 The great prototype of the Flying Carpet is that of Sulayman bin Dáúd, a fable which the Koran (chap. xxi. 81) borrowed from the Talmud, not from “Indian fictions.” It was of green sendal embroidered with gold and silver and studded with precious stones, and its length and breadth were such that all the Wise King’s host could stand upon it, the men to the left and the Jinns to the right of the throne; and when all were ordered, the Wind, at royal command, raised it and wafted it whither the Prophet would, while an army of birds flying overhead canopied the host from the sun. In the Middle Ages the legend assumed another form. “Duke Richard, surnamed ‘Richard sans peur,’ walking with his courtiers one evening in the forest of Moulineaux, near one of his castles on the banks of the Seine, hearing a prodigious noise coming towards him, sent one of his esquires to know what was the matter, who brought him word that it was a company of people under a leader or King. Richard, with five hundred of his bravest Normans, went out to see a sight which the peasants were so accustomed to that they viewed it two or three times a week without fear. The sight of the troop, preceded by two men, who spread a cloth on the ground, made all the Normans run away, and leave the Duke alone. He saw the strangers form themselves into a circle on the cloth, and on asking who they were, was told that they were the spirits of Charles V., King of France, and his servants, condemned to expiate their sins by fighting all night against the wicked and the damned. Richard desired to be of their party, and receiving a strict charge not to quit the cloth, was conveyed with them to Mount Sinai, where, leaving them without quitting the cloth, he said his prayers in the Church of St. Catherine’s Abbey there, while they were fighting, and returned with them. In proof of the truth of this story, he brought back half the wedding-ring of a knight in that convent, whose wife, after six years, concluded him dead, and was going to take a second husband.” (Note in the Lucknow Edition of The Nights.)
320 Amongst Eastern peoples, and especially adepts, the will of man is not a mere term for a mental or cerebral operation, it takes the rank of a substance; it becomes a mighty motive power, like table-turning and other such phenomena which, now looked upon as child’s play, will perform a prime part in the Kinetics of the century to come. If a few pair of hands imposed upon a heavy dinner-table can raise it in the air, as I have often seen, what must we expect to result when the new motive force shall find its Franklin and be shown to the world as real “Vril”? The experiment of silently willing a subject to act in a manner not suggested by speech or sign has been repeatedly tried and succeeded in London drawing-rooms; and it has lately been suggested that atrocious crimes have resulted from overpowering volition. In cases of paralysis the Faculty is agreed upon the fact that local symptoms disappear when the will-power returns to the brain. And here I will boldly and baldly state my theory that, in sundry cases, spectral appearances (ghosts) and abnormal smells and sounds are simply the effect of a Will which has, so to speak, created them.
321 The text has “But-Khanah” = idol-house (or room) syn. with “But-Kadah” = image-cuddy, which has been proposed as the derivation of the disputed “Pagoda.” The word “Khánah” also appears in our balcony, origin. “balcony,” through the South-European tongues, the Persian being “Bálá-khánah” = high room. From “Kadah” also we derive “cuddy,” now confined to nautical language.
322 Europe contains sundry pictures which have, or are supposed to have, this property; witness the famous Sundarium bearing the head of Jesus. The trick, for it is not Art, is highly admired by the credulous.
323 i.e. the Hindu Scripture or Holy Writ, e.g. “Káma-Shastra” = the Cupid-gospel.
324 This shifting theatre is evidently borrowed by Galland from Pliny (N. H. xxxvi., 24) who tells that in B. C. 50, C. Curio built two large wooden theatres which could be wheeled round and formed into an amphitheatre. The simple device seems to stir the bile of the unmechanical old Roman, so unlike the Greek in powers of invention.
325 This trick is now common in the circuses and hippodromes of Europe, horses and bulls being easily taught to perform it: but India has as yet not produced anything equal to the “Cyclist elephant” of Paris.
326 This Arab.-Pers. compound, which we have corrupted to “Bezestein” or “Bezettein” and “Bezesten,” properly means a market-place for Baz or Bazz = cloth, fine linen; but is used by many writers as = Bazar, see “Kaysariah,” vol. i. 266.
327 The origin of the lens and its applied use to the telescope and the microscope are “lost” (as the Castle-guides of Edinburgh say) “in the glooms of antiquity.” Well ground glasses have been discovered amongst the finds of Egypt and Assyria: indeed much of the finer work of the primeval artists could not have been done without such aid. In Europe the “spy-glass” appears first in the Opus Majus of the learned Roger Bacon (circa A. D. 1270); and his “optic tube” (whence his saying “all things are known by perspective”), chiefly contributed to make his wide-spread fame as a wizard. The telescope was popularised by Galileo who (as mostly happens) carried off and still keeps, amongst the vulgar, all the honours of invention. Some “Illustrators” of The Nights confound this “Nazzárah,” the Pers. “Dúr-bín,” or far-seer, with the “Magic Mirror,” a speculum which according to Gower was set up in Rome by Virgilius the Magician hence the Mirror of Glass in the Squire’s tale; Merlin’s glassie Mirror of Spenser (F. Q. ii. 24); the mirror in the head of the monstrous fowl which forecast the Spanish invasion to the Mexicans; the glass which in the hands of Cornelius Agrippa (A. D. 1520) showed to the Earl of Surrey fair Geraldine “sick in her bed;” to the globe of glass in The Lusiads; Dr. Dee’s show-stone, a bit of cannel-coal; and lastly the zinc and copper disk of the absurdly called “electro-biologist.” I have noticed this matter at some length in various places.
328 D’Herbelot renders Soghd Samarkand = plain of Samarkand. Hence the old “Sogdiana,” the famed and classical capital of Máwaránnahr, our modern Transoxiana, now known as Samarkand. The Hindi translator has turned “Soghd” into “Sadá” and gravely notes that “the village appertained to Arabia.” He possibly had a dim remembrance of the popular legend which derives “Samarkand” from Shamir or Samar bin Afrikús, the Tobba King of Al-Yaman, who lay waste Soghd-city (“Shamir kand” = Shamir destroyed); and when rebuilt the place was called by the Arab. corruption Samarkand. See Ibn Khallikan ii. 480. Ibn Haukal (Kitáb al Mamálik wa al-Masálik = Book of Realms and Routes), whose Oriental Geography (xth century) was translated by Sir W. Ouseley (London, Oriental Press, 1800), followed by Abú ‘l-Fidá, mentions the Himyaritic inscription upon an iron plate over the Kash portal of Samarkand (Appendix No. iii.).
329 The wish might have been highly indiscreet and have exposed the wisher to the resentment of the two other brothers. In parts of Europe it is still the belief of the vulgar that men who use telescopes can see even with the naked eye objects which are better kept hidden; and I have heard of troubles in the South of France because the villagers would not suffer the secret charms of their women to become as it were the public property of the lighthouse employés.
330 “Jám-i-Jamshíd” is a well worn commonplace in Moslem folk-lore; but commentators cannnot agree whether “Jám” be = a mirror or a cup. In the latter sense it would represent the Cyathomantic cup of the Patriarch Joseph and the symbolic bowl of Nestor. Jamshíd may be translated either Jam the Bright or the Cup of the Sun: this ancient King is Solomon of the grand old Guebres.
331 This passage may have suggested to Walter Scott one of his descriptions in “The Monastery.”
332 In the text “Lájawardí,” for which see vols. iii. 33, and ix. 190.
333 In Galland and the H. V. “Prince Husayn’s.”
334 This is the “Gandharba-lagana” (fairy wedding) of the Hindus; a marriage which lacked only the normal ceremonies. For the Gandharbas = heavenly choristers see Moor’s “Hindú Pantheon,” p. 237, etc.
335 “Perfumed with amber” (-gris?) says Galland.
336 The Hind term for the royal levée, as “Selám” is the Persian.
337 Arab. “‘Ilm al-Ghayb” = the Science of Hidden Things which, says the Hadis, belongeth only to the Lord. Yet amongst Moslems, as with other faiths, the instinctive longing to pry into the Future has produced a host of pseudo-sciences, Geomancy, Astrology, Prophecy and others which serve only to prove that such knowledge, in the present condition of human nature, is absolutely unattainable.
338 In folk-lore and fairy tales the youngest son of mostly three brothers is generally Fortune’s favourite: at times also he is the fool or the unlucky one of the family, Cinderella being his counterpart (Mr. Clouston, i. 321).
339 The parasang (Gr. {Greek text}), which Ibn Khall. (iii. 315) reduces to three miles, has been derived wildly enough from Fars or Pars (Persia proper) sang = (mile) stone. Chardin supports the etymology, “because leagues are marked out with great tall stones in the East as well as the West, e.g., ad primam (vel secundam) lapidem.”
340 A huge marquee or pavilion-tent in India.
341 The Jinn feminine; see vol. i. 10. The word hardly corresponds with the Pers. “Peri” and Engl. “Fairy,” a creation, like the “Dív,” of the so-called “Aryan,” not “Semitic,” race.
342 Galland makes the Fairy most unjustifiably fear that her husband is meditating the murder of his father; and the Hindí in this point has much the advantage of the Frenchman.
343 Pers. = “Light of the World”; familiar to Europe as the name of the Grand Moghul Jehángír’s principal wife.
344 The Arab stirrup, like that of the Argentine Gaucho, was originally made of wood, liable to break, and forming a frail support for lancer and sworder. A famous chief and warrior, Abú Sa’íd al-Muhallab (ob. A. H. 83 = 702) first gave orders to forge foot-rests of iron.
345 For this Egyptian and Syrian weapon see vol. i. 234.
346 See vol. vii. 93, where an error of punctuation confounds it with Kerbela — a desert with a place of pilgrimage. “Samáwah” in Ibn Khall. (vol. i. 108) is also the name of a town on the Euphrates.
347 Nazaránah prop. = the gift (or gifts) offered at visits by a Moslem noble or feoffee in India to his feudal superior; and the Kalichah of Hindú, Malabar, Goa and the Blue Mountains (p. 197). Hence the periodical tributes and especially the presents which represent our “legacy-duty” and the “succession-duty” for Rajahs and Nabobs, the latter so highly lauded by “The Times,” as the logical converse of the Corn-laws which ruined our corn. The Nazaránah can always be made a permanent and a considerable source of revenue, far more important than such unpopular and un-Oriental device as an income-tax. But our financiers have yet to learn the A. B. C. of political economy in matters of assessment, which is to work upon familiar lines; and they especially who, like Mr. Wilson “mad as a hatter,” hold and hold forth that “what is good for England is good for the world.” These myopics decide on theoretical and sentimental grounds that a poll-tax is bad in principle, which it may be, still public opinion sanctions it and it can be increased without exciting discontent. The same with the “Nazaránah;” it has been the custom of ages immemorial, and a little more or a little less does not affect its popularity.
348 Pers. = City-queen.
In days of yore and in times long gone before there lived a king of Persia, Khusrau Sháh hight, renowned for justice and righteousness. His father, dying at a good old age, had left him sole heir to all the realm and, under his rule, the tiger and the kid drank side by side at the same Ghát;350 and his treasury was ever full and his troops and guards were numberless. Now it was his wont to don disguise and, attended by a trusty Wazir, to wander about the street at night-time. Whereby things seld-seen and haps peregrine became known to him, the which, should I tell thee all thereof, O auspicious King, would weary thee beyond measure. So he took seat upon the throne of his forbears and when the appointed days of mourning were ended, according to the custom of that country, he caused his exalted name, that is Khusrau Shah, be struck upon all the coins of the kingdom and entered into the formula of public prayer.351 And when stablished in his sovranty he went forth as aforetime on one evening accompanied by his Grand Wazir, both in merchant’s habit, walking the streets and squares, the markets and lanes, the better to note what might take place both of good and of bad. By chance they passed, as the night darkened, through a quarter where dwelt people of the poorer class; and as they walked on, the Shah heard inside a house women talking with loud voices; then going near, he peeped in by the door-chink, and saw three fair sisters who having supped together were seated on a divan talking one to other. The King thereupon applied his ear to the crack and listened eagerly to what they said, and heard each and every declaring what was the thing she most desired.352 Quoth the eldest, “I would I were married to the Shah’s head Baker for then should I ever have bread to eat, the whitest and choicest in the city, and your hearts would be fulfilled with envy and jealousy and malice at my good luck.” Quoth the second, “I would rather wive with the Shah’s chief Kitchener and eat of dainty dishes that are placed before his Highness, wherewith the royal bread which is common throughout the Palace cannot compare for gust and flavour.” And quoth the third and youngest of the three, and by far the most beautiful and lively of them all, a maiden of charming nature, full of wit and humour; sharp-witted, wary and wise, when her turn came to tell her wish, “O sisters, my ambition is not as ordinary as yours. I care not for fine bread nor glutton-like do I long for dainty dishes. I look to somewhat nobler and higher: indeed I would desire nothing less than to be married by the King and become the mother of a beautiful Prince, a model of form and in mind as masterful as valorous. His hair should be golden on one side and silvern on the other: when weeping he should drop pearls in place of tears, and when laughing his rosy lips should be fresh as the blossom new-blown.” The Shah was amazed with exceeding amazement to hear the wishes of the three sisters, but chiefly of the youngest and determined in himself that he would gratify them all. Wherefore quoth he to the Grand Wazir, “Mark well this house And on the morrow bring before me these maidens whom we Heard discoursing;” and quoth the Wazir, “O Asylum of the Universe, I hear but to obey.” Thereupon the twain walked back to the palace and laid them down to rest. When morning morrowed, the Minister went for the sisters and brought them to the King, who, after greeting them and heartening their hearts, said to them in kindly tone, “O ye maidens of weal, last night what was it that in merry word and jest ye spake one to other? Take heed ye tell the Shah every whit in full detail, for all must become known to us; something have we heard, but now the King would have ye recount your discourse to his royal ears."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that at these words of the Shah the sisters, confused and filled with shame, durst not reply but stood before him silent with heads bent low; and despite all questioning and encouragement they could not pluck up courage. However, the youngest was of passing comeliness in form and feature and forthwith the Shah became desperately enamoured of her; and of his live began reassuring them and saying, “O ye Princesses of fair ones, be not afraid nor troubled in thought; nor let bashfulness or shyness prevent you telling the Shah what three wishes you wished, for fain would he fulfil them all.” Thereat they threw themselves at his feet and, craving his pardon for their boldness and freedom of speech, told him the whole talk, each one repeating the wish she had wished; and on that very day Khusrau Shah married the eldest sister to his chief Baker, and the second sister to his head Cook, and bade make all things ready for his own wedding with the youngest sister. So when the preparations for the royal nuptials had been made after costliest fashion, the King’s marriage was celebrated with royal pomp and pageantry, and the bride received the titles of Light of the Harem and Bánú of Irán-land. The other two maidens were likewise married, one to the King’s Baker the other to his Cook, after a manner according to their several degrees in life and with little show of grandeur and circumstance. Now it had been only right and reasonable that these twain having won each her own wish, should have passed their time in solace and happiness, but the decree of Destiny doomed otherwise; and, as soon as they saw the grand estate whereto their youngest sister had risen, and the magnificence of her marriage-festival, their hearts were fired with envy and jealousy and sore despite and they resolved upon giving the rein to their hatred and malignancy and to work her some foul mischief. On this wise they remained for many months consumed with rancour, day and night; and they burned with grief and anger whenever they sighted aught of her superior style and state. One morning as the two met at the Hammám and found privacy and opportunity, quoth the eldest sister to the second, “A grievous thing it is indeed that she, our youngest sister, no lovelier than ourselves, should thus be raised to the dignity and majesty of Queendom and indeed the thought is overhard to bear.” Quoth the other, “O sister mine, I also am perplexed and displeased at this thing, and I know not what of merit the Shah could have seen in her that he was tempted to choose her for his consort. She ill befitteth that high estate with that face like a monkey’s favour; and, save her youth, I know nothing that could commend her to his Highness that he should so exalt her above her fellows. To my mind thou and not she art fit to share the royal bed; and I nurse a grudge against the King for that he hath made this jade his Queen.” And the eldest sister rejoined, “I likewise marvel beyond all measure; and I swear that thy youth and beauty, thy well-shaped figure and lovely favour and goodliness of gifts past challenge or compare, might well have sufficed to win the King and have tempted him to wed and bed with thee and make thee his crowned Queen and Sovran Lady in lieu of taking to his arms this paltry strumpet. Indeed he hath shown no sense of what is right and just in leaving thee disappointed; and on this account only the matter troubleth me with exceeding trouble."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the two sisters took counsel each with other how they might abase their youngest sister in the Shah’s sight and cause her downfall and utter ruin. Day and night they conned over the matter in their minds and spoke at great length about it when they ever met together, and pondered endless plans to injure the Queen their sister, and if possible bring about her death; but they could fix upon none. And, whilst they bore this despite and hatred towards her and diligently and deliberately sought the means of gratifying their bitter envy, hatred and malice, she on the other hand regarded them with the same favour and affection as she had done before marriage and thought only how to advantage their low estate. Now when some months of her wedded life had passed, the fair Queen was found to be with child whereof the glad tidings filled the Shah with joy; and straightway he commanded all the people of the capital and throughout the while Empire keep holiday with feasts and dancing and every manner jollity as became so rare and important an occasion. But as soon as the news came to the ears of the two Envious Sisters they were constrained perforce to offer their congratulations to the Queen; and, after a long visit, as the twain were about to crave dismissal they said, “Thanks be to Almighty Allah, O our sister, who hath shown us this happy day. One boon have we to ask of thee: to wit, that when the time shall come for thee to be delivered of a child, we may assist as midwives at thy confinement, and be with thee and nurse thee for the space of forty days.” The Queen in her gladness made reply, “O sisters mine, I fain would have it so; for at a time of such need I know f none on whom to rely with such dependence as upon you. During my coming trial your presence with me will be most welcome and opportune; but I can do only what thing the Shah biddeth anor can I do aught save by his leave. My advice is thus:— Make known this matter to your mates who have always access to the royal presence, and let them personally apply for your attendance as midwives; I doubt not but that the Shah will give you leave to assist me and remain by my side, considering the fond relationship between us three.” Then the two sisters returned home full of evil thoughts and malice, and told their wishes to their husbands who, in turn, bespake Khusrau Shah, and proffered their petition with all humility, little knowing what was hidden from them in the Secret Purpose. The King replied, “When I shall have thought the matter over in my mind, I will give you suitable orders.” So saying he privately visited the Queen and to her said, “O my lady, an it please thee, methinks ’twould be well to summon thy sisters and secure their aidance, when thou shalt be labouring of child, in lieu of any stranger: and if thou be of the same mind as myself let me at once learn and take steps to obtain their consent and concert ere thy time arriveth. They will wait on thee with more loving care than any hired nurse and thou wilt find thyself the safer in their hands.” Replied the Queen, “O my lord the Shah, I also venture to think that ’twould be well to have my sisters by my side and not mere aliens at such an hour.” Accordingly he sent sword to them and from that day they dwelt within the palace to make all ready for the expected confinement; and on this wise they found means to carry out their despiteful plot which during so many days they had devised to scanty purpose. When her full tale of months had been told, the Banu was brought to bed of a man-child marvellous in beauty, whereat the fire of envy and hatred was kindled with redoubled fury in the sisters’ breasts. So they again took counsel not suffered ruth nor natural affection to move their cruel hearts; and presently, with great care and secrecy, they wrapped the new-born in a bit of blanket and putting him into a basket cast him into a canal which flowed hard by the Queen’s apartment.353 They then placed a dead puppy in the place of the prince and showed it to the other midwives and nurses, averring that the Queen had given birth to such abortion. When these untoward tidings reached the King’s ear he was sore discomforted and waxed wroth with exceeding wrath. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the King, enflamed with sudden fierceness, drew his sword and would have slain his Queen had not the Grand Wazir, who happened to be in his presence at the time, restrained his rage and diverted him from his unjust design and barbarous purpose. Quoth he, “O Shadow of Allah upon earth, this mishap is ordained of the Almighty Lord whose will no man hath power to gainsay. The Queen is guiltless of offence against thee, for what is born of her is born without her choice, and she indeed hath no hand therein.” With this and other sage counsels he dissuaded his lord from carrying out his fell purpose and saved the guiltless Queen from a sudden and cruel death. Meanwhile the basket wherein lay the newly-born Prince was carried by the current into a rivulet which flowed through the royal gardens; and, as the Intendant of the pleasure grounds and pleasaunces chanced to walk along the bank, by the decree of Destiny he caught sight of the basket floating by, and he called a gardener, bidding him lay hold of it and bring it to him that he might see what was therein. The man ran along the rivulet side; and, with a long stick drawing the basket to land, showed it to the Intendant who opened it and beheld within a new-born babe, a boy of wondrous beauty wrapped in a bit of blanket; at which sight he was astounded beyond measure of surprise. Now it chanced that the Intendant, who was one of the Emirs and who stood high in favour with the Sovran, had no children: withal he never ceased offering prayers and vows to Almighty Allah that he might have a son to keep alive his memory and continue his name. Delighted at the sight he took home the basket with the babe and giving it to his wife said, “See how Allah hath sent to us this man-child which I just now found floating upon the waters; and do thou apply thee forthright and fetch a wet-nurse to give him milk and nourish him; and bring him up with care and tenderness as though he were thine own.” So the Intendant’s wife took charge of the child with great gladness and reared him with her whole heart, diligently as though born of her own womb; nor did the Intendant say aught to any, or seek to find out whose might be the child lest haply some one claim and take it from him. He was certified in his mind that the boy came from the Queen’s quarter of the palace, but deemed inexpedient to make too strict enquiry concerning the matter; and he and his spouse kept the secret with all secrecy. A year after this the Queen gave birth to a second son, when her sisters, the Satanesses full of spite, did with this babe, even as they had done by the first: they wrapped it in a cloth and set it in a basket which they threw into the stream, then gave out that the Queen had brought forth a kitten. But once more, by the mercy of Allah Almighty, this boy came to the hands of that same Intendant of the gardens who carried him to his wife and placed him under her charge with strict injunctions to take care of the second foundling sedulously as she had done with the first. The Shah, enraged to hear the evil tidings, again rose up to slay the Queen; but as before the Grand Wazir prevented him and calmed his wrath with words of wholesome rede and a second time saved the unhappy mother’s life. And after another year had gone by the Banu was brought to bed and this time bore a daughter by whom the sisters did as they had done by her brothers: they set the innocent inside a basket and threw her into the stream; and the Intendant found her also and took her to his wife and bade her rear the infant together with the other two castaways. Hereupon the Envious Sisters, wild with malice, reported that the Queen had given birth to a musk-ratling;354 whereat King Khusrau could no longer stay his wrath and indignation. So he cried in furious rage to the Grand Wazir, “What, shall the Shah suffer this woman, who beareth naught but vermin and abortions, to share the joys of his bed? Nay more, the King can no longer allow her to live, else she will fill the palace with monstrous births: in very sooth, she is herself a monster, and it behoveth us to rid this place of such unclean creature and accursed.” So saying the Shah commanded them do her to death; but the ministers and high officers of estate who stood before the presence fell at the royal feet and besought pardon and mercy for the Queen. The Grand Wazir also said with folded hands, “O Sháhihsháh355— O King of the kings — thy slave would fain represent that ’tis not in accordance with the course of justice or the laws of the land to take the life of a woman for no fault of her own. She cannot interfere with Destiny, nor can she prevent unnatural births such as have thrice betided her; and such mishaps have oftentimes befallen other women, whose cases call for compassion and not punishment. An the King be displeased with her then let him cease to live with her, and the loss of his gracious favour will be a penalty dire enough; and, if the Shah cannot suffer the sight of her, then let her be confined in some room apart, and let her expiate her offence by alms deed and charity until ‘Izráíl, the Angel of Death, separate her soul from her flesh.” Hearing these words of counsel from his aged Councillor, Khusrau Shah recognised that it had been wrong to slay the Queen, for that she could on no wise do away with aught that was determined by Fate and Destiny; and presently he said to the Grand Wazir, “Her life is spared at thine intercession, O wise man and ware; yet will the King doom her to a weird which, haply, is hardly less hard to bear than death. And now do thou forthright make ready, by the side of the Cathedral-mosque, a wooden cage with iron bars and lock the Queen therein as one would confine a ferocious wild beast.356 Then every Mussulman who wendeth his way to public prayers Shall spit in her face ere he set foot within the fane, and if any fail to carry out this command he shall be punished in like manner. So place guards and inspectors to enforce obedience and let me hear if there be aught of gainsaying.” The Wazir durst not make reply but carried out the Shah’s commandments; and this punishment inflicted upon the blameless Queen had far better befitted her Envious Sisters. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she — I have heard, O auspicious King, that the cage was made ready with all speed; and, when the forty days after purification of child-bed357 had come to an end, the Banu was locked therein; and, according to the King’s commandment, all who came to prayer in the Great Mosque would first spit in her face. The hapless woman, well knowing that she as not worthy of this ignominy, bore her sufferings with all patience and fortitude; nor were they few who deemed her blameless and undeserving to endure these torments and tortures inflicted upon her by the Shah; and they pitied her and offered prayers and made vows for her release. Meanwhile the Intendant of the gardens and his wife brought up the two Princes and the Princess with all love and tenderness; and, as the children grew in years, their love for these adopted ones increased in like proportion. They gave the eldest Prince the name Bahman,358, and to his brother Parwez,359, and as the maiden was of rare of beauty and passing of loveliness and graciousness, they called her Perízádah.360 When the Princes became of years to receive instruction, the Intendant of the gardens appointed tutors and masters to teach them reading and writing and all the arts and sciences: the Princess also, showing like eagerness to acquire knowledge, was taught letters by the same instructors, and soon could read and write with as perfect fluency and fluency as could her brothers. Then they were placed under the most learned of the Philosophers and the Olema, who taught them the interpretation of the Koran and the sayings of the Apostle; the science of geometry as well as poetry and history, and even the abstruse sciences and the mystic doctrines of the Enlightened; and their teachers were astonished to find how soon and how far all three made progress in their studies and bid fair to outstrip even the sages however learned. Moreover, they all three were reared to horsemanship and skill in the chase, to shooting with shafts and lunging with lance and sway with sabre and jerking the Jeríd, with other manly and warlike sports. Besides all this the Princess Perizadah was taught to sing and play on various instruments of mirth and merriment, wherein she became the peerless pearl of her age and time. The Intendant was exceeding glad of heart to find his adopted children prove themselves such proficients in every branch of knowledge; and presently, forasmuch as his lodging was small and unfit for the growing family, he bought at a little distance from the city a piece of land sufficiently large to contain fields and meadows and copses. Here he fell to building a mansion of great magnificence; and busied himself day and night with supervising the architects and masons and other artificers. He adorned the walls inside and out with sculptural work of the finest and paintings of the choicest, and he fitted every apartment with richest furniture. In the front of his mansion he bade lay out a garden and stocked it with scented flowers and fragrant shrubs and fruit trees whose produce was as that of Paradise. There was moreover a large park girt on all sides by a high wall wherein he reared game, both fur and feather, as sport for the two Princes and their sister. And when the mansion was finished and fit for habitation, the Intendant, who had faithfully served the Shah for many generations of men, craved leave of his lord that he might bid adieu to the city and take up his abode in his new country seat; and the King, who had always looked upon him with the eye of favour, granted to him the required boon right heartily; furthermore, to prove his high opinion of his old servant and his services, he inquired of him if he had aught to request that it might granted to him. Replied the other, “O my liege lord, thy slave desireth naught save that he may spend the remnant of his days under the shadow of the Shah’s protection, with body and soul devoted to his service, even as I served the side before the son,” The Shah dismissed him with words of thanks and comfort, when he left the city and taking with him the two Princes and their sister, he carried them to his newly-built mansion. Some years before this time his wife had departed to the mercy of Allah, and he had passed only five or six months in his second home when he too suddenly felt sick and was admitted into the number of those who have found ruth. Withal he had neglected every occasion of telling his three foundlings the strange tale of their birth and how he had carried them to his home as castaways and had reared them as rearlings and had cherished them as his own children. But he had time to charge them, ere he died, that they three should never cease to live together in love and honour and affection and respect one towards other. The loss of their protector caused them to grieve with bitter grief for they all thought he was their real father; so they bewailed them and buried him as befitted; after which the two brothers and their sister dwelt together in peace and plenty. But one day of the days the Princes, who were full of daring and of the highest mettle, rode forth a-hunting and Princess Perizadah was left alone at home when an ancient woman — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she — I have heard, O auspicious King, that perchance an ancient woman of the Moslems, a recluse and a devotee, came to the door and begged leave to enter within and repeat her prayers, as it was then the canonical hour and she had but time to make the Wuzú-ablution. Perizadah bade being her and saluted her with the salam and kindly welcomed her; then, when the holy woman had made an end of her orisons, the handmaids of the Princess, at her command, conducted her all through the house and grounds, and displayed to her the rooms with their furniture and fittings, and lastly the garden and orchard and game-park. She was well pleased with all she saw and said within herself, “The man who built this mansion and laid out these parterres and vergiers was verily an accomplished artist and a wight of marvellous skill.” At last the slaves led her back to the Princess who, awaiting her return, was sitting in the belvedere; and quoth she to the devotee, “Come, O good my mother, do thou sit beside me and make me happy by the company of a pious recluse whom I am fortunate enough to have entertained unawares, and suffer I listen to thy words of grace and thereby gain no small advantage in this world and the next. Thou hast chosen the right path and straight whereon to walk, and that which all men strive for and pine for.” The holy woman would fain have seated herself at the feet of the Princess, but she courteously arose and took her by the hand and constrained her to sit beside her. Quoth she, “O my lady, mine eyes never yet beheld one so well-mannered as thou art: indeed, I am unworthy to sit with thee, natheless, as thou biddest, I will e’en do thy bidding.” As they sat conversing each with other the slave-girls set before them a table whereon were placed some platters of bread and cakes with saucers full of fruits both fresh and dried, and various kinds of cates and sweetmeats. The Princess took one of the cakes and giving it to the good woman said, “O my mother, refresh thyself herewith and eat of the fruits such as thou likest. ’Tis now long since thou didst leave thy home and I trow thou hast not tasted aught of food upon the road.” Replied the holy woman, “O lady of gentle birth, I am not wont to taste of dainty dishes such as these, but I can ill refuse thy provision, since Allah the Almighty deigneth send me food and support by so liberal and generous a hand as thine.” And when they twain had eaten somewhat and cheered their hearts, the Princess asked the devotee concerning the manner of her worship and of her austere life; whereto she made due answer and explained according to her knowledge. The Princess then exclaimed, “Tell me, I pray thee, what thou thinkest of this mansion and the fashion of its building and the furniture and the appurtenances; and say me is all perfect and appropriate, or is aught still lacking in mansion or garden?” And she replied, “Since thou deignest ask my opinion, I confess to thee that both the buildings and the parterres are finished and furnished to perfection; and the belongings are in the best of taste and in the highest of ordinance. Still to my thinking there be three things here wanting, which if thou hadst the place would be most complete.” The Princess Perizadah adjured her saying, “O my aunt, I beseech thee tell me what three articles yet are lacking, that I may lose no pains nor toil to obtain them;” and as the maiden pressed her with much intreaty, the devotee was constrained to tell her. Quoth she, “O gentle lady, the first thing is the Speaking-Bird, called Bulbul-i-hazár-dástán;361 he is very rare and hard to find but, whenever he poureth out his melodious notes, thousands of birds fly to him from every side and join him in his harmony. The next thing is the Singing-Tree, whose smooth and glossy leaves when shaken by the wind and rubbed against one another send forth tuneful tones which strike the ear like the notes of sweet-voices minstrels ravishing the heart of all who listen. The third thing is the Golden-Water of transparent purity, whereon should but one drop be dripped into a basin and this be placed inside the garden it presently will fill the vessel brimful and will spout upwards in gerbes playing like a fountain that jets: moreover it never ceaseth playing, and all the water as it shooteth up falleth back again inside the basin, not one gout thereof being lost.” Replied the Princess, “I doubt not but thou knowest for a certainty the very spot where these wondrous things are to be found; and I pray thee tell me now the place and means whereby I may take action to obtain them."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she — I have heard, O auspicious King, that the holy woman thus answered the Princess, “These three rarities are not to be found, save on the boundary-line that lieth between the land of Hind and the confining countries, a score of marches along the road that leadeth Eastwards from this mansion. Let him who goeth forth in quest of them ask the first man he meeteth on the twentieth stage concerning the spot where he may find the Speaking-Bird, the Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water; and he will direct the seeker where to come upon all three.” When she had made an end of speaking the Devotee, with many blessings and prayers and vows for her well-being, farewelled the lady Perizadah and fared forth homewards. The Princess, however, ceased not to ponder her words and ever to dwell in memory upon the relation of the holy woman who, never thinking that her hostess had asked for information save by way of curiosity, nor really purposed in mind to set forth with intent of finding the rarities, ahd heedlessly told all she knew and had given a clue to the discovery. But Perizadah kept these matters deeply graven on the tablets of her heart with firm resolution to follow the directions and, by all means in her power, to gain possession of these three wonders. Withal, the more she reflected the harder appeared the enterprise, and her fear of failing only added to her unease. Now whilst she sat perplexed with anxious thought and anon terrified with sore affright, her brothers rode back from the hunting-ground; and they marvelled much to see her sad of semblance and low-spirited, wondering the while what it was that troubles her. Presently quoth Prince Bahman, “O sister mine, why art thou so heavy of heart this day? Almighty Allah forbid thou ill in health or that aught have betided thee to cause thy displeasure or to make thee melancholy. Tell us I beseech thee what it is, that we may be sharers in thy sorrow and be alert to aid thee.” The Princess answered not a word, but after long silence raised her head and looked up at her brothers; then casting down her eyes she said in curt phrase that naught was amiss with her. Quoth Prince Bahman, “Full well I wot that there is a somewhat on my mind which thou hesitateth to tell us; and now hear me swear a strong oath that I will never leave thy side till thou shalt have told us what cause it is that troubleth thee. Haply thou art aweary of our affection and thou wouldest undo the fraternal tie which hath united us from our infancy.” When she saw her brothers so distressed and distraught, she was compelled to speak and said, “Albeit, O my dearlings, to tell you wherefore I am sad and sorrowful may cause you grief, still there is no help but I explain the matter to you twain. This mansion, which our dear father (who hath found ruth) builded for us, is perfect in every attribute nor lacketh it any condition of comfort or completion. Howbeit I have found out by chance this day that there are yet three things which, were they set within these walls, of the house and grounds, would make our place beyond compare, and in the wide world there would be naught with it to pair. These three things are the Speaking-Bird an the Singing-Tree and the Golden- Water; and ever since I heard of them my heart is filled with extreme desire to place them within our domain and excessive longing to obtain them by any means within my power. It now behoveth you to help me with your best endeavour and to consider what person will aid me in getting possession of these rarities.” Replied Prince Bahman, “My life and that of my brother are at thy service to carry out thy purpose with heart and soul; and, couldst thou give me but a clue to the place where these strange things are found, I would sally forth in quest of them at day-break as soon as the morning shall morrow.” When Prince Parwez understood that his brother was about to make this journey, he spake saying, “O my brother, thou art eldest of us, so do thou stay at home while I go forth to seek for these three things and bring them to our sister. And indeed it were more fitting for me to undertake a task which may occupy me for years.” Replied Prince Bahman, “I have full confidence in thy strength and prowess, and whatso I am able to perform thou canst do as well as I can. Still it is my firm resolve to fare forth upon this adventure alone and unaided, and thou must stay and take care of our sister and our house.” So next day Prince Bahman learned from the Princess the road whereon he was to travel and the marks and signs whereby to find the place. Presently, he donned armour and arms and bidding the twain adieu, he took horse and was about to ride forth with the stoutest of hearts, whereat Princess Perizadah’s eyes brimmed with tears and in faltering accents she addressed him saying, “O dear my brother, this bitter separation is heart-breaking; and sore sorrowful am I to see thee part from us. This disunion and thine absence in a distant land cause me grief and woe far exceeding that wherewith I mourned and pined for the rarities wherefor thou quittest us. If only we might have some news of thee from day to day then would I fell somewhat comforted and consoled; but not ’tis clear otherwise and regret is of none avail."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then she said — I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Bahman made answer in these words: “O sister mine, I am fully determined in mind to attempt this derring-do; be thou not however anxious or alarmed, for Inshallah — God willing — I shall return successful and triumphant. After my departure shouldst thou at any time feel in fear for my safety, then by this token which I leave thee thou shalt know of my fate and lot, good or evil.” Then, drawing from his waist-shawl a little hunting-knife like a whittle, he gave it to Princess Perizadah, saying, “Take now this blade and keep it ever by thee; and shouldst thou at any day or hour be solicitous concerning my condition, draw it from its sheath; and if the steel be clean and bright as ’tis now then know that I am alive and safe and sound; but an thou find stains of blood thereon then shalt thou know that I am slain, and naught remaineth for thee to do save to pray for me as for one dead.” With these words of solace the Prince departed on his journey, and travelled straight along the road to India, turning nor to right hand nor to left but ever keeping the same object in view. Thus a score of days was spent in journeying from the land of Iran, and upon the twentieth he reached the end of his travel. Here he suddenly sighted an ancient man of frightful aspect sitting beneath a tree hard by his thatched hut wherein he was wont to shelter himself from the rains of spring and the heats of summer and the autumnal miasmas and the wintry frosts. So shotten in years was this Shaykh that hair and beard, mustachios and whiskers were white as snow, and the growth of his upper lip was so long and so thick that it covered and concealed his mouth, while his beard swept the ground and the nails of his hands and feet had grown to resemble the claws of a wild beast. Upon his head he wore a broad-brimmed hat of woven palm-leaves like that of a Malábár fisherman, and all his remaining habit was a strip of matting girded around his waist. Now this Shaykh was a Darwaysh who for many years had fled the world and all worldly pleasures; who lived a holy life of poverty and chastity and other-worldliness whereby his semblance had become such as I, O auspicious King, have described to thee. From early dawn that day Prince Bahman had been watchful and vigilant, ever looking on all sides to descry some one who could supply him with information touching the whereabouts of the rarities he sought; and this was the first human being he had sighted on that stage, the twentieth and last of his journey. So he rode up to him, being assured that the Shaykh must be the wight of whom the holy woman had spoken. Then Prince Bahman dismounting and making low obeisance to the Darwaysh, said, “I my father, Allah Almighty prolong thy years and grant thee all thy wishes!” Whereto the Fakir made answer but in accents so indistinct that the Prince could not distinguish a single word he said; and presently Bahman understood that his moustache was on such wise closed and concealed his mouth that his utterance became indistinct and he only muttered when he would have spoken. He therefore haltered his horse to a tree and pulling out a pair of scissors said, “O holy man, thy lips are wholly hidden by this overlong hair; suffer me, I pray thee, clip the bristling growth which overspreadeth thy face and which is so long and thick that thou art fearsome to behold; nay, more like to a bear than to a human being.” The Darwaysh with a nod consented, and when the Prince had clipped it and trimmed the growth, his face once more looked young and fresh as that of a man in the prime of youth. Presently quoth Bahman to him, “Would Heaven that I had a mirror wherein to show thee thy face, so wouldst thou see how youthful thou seemest, and how thy favour hath become far more like that of folk than whilom it was.” These flattering words pleased the Darwaysh who smiling said, “I thank thee much for this thy goodly service and kindly offices; and, if in return, I can do aught of favour for thee, I pray thee let me know, and I will attempt to satisfy thee in all things with my very heart and soul.” Then said the Prince, “O holy man, I have come hither from far distant lands along a toilsome road in quest of three things; to wit, a certain Speaking-Bird, a Singing-Tree and a Golden-Water; and this know I for certain that they are all to be found hard by this site."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince, turning to the Darwaysh, continued, “O Devotee, albeit well I wot that the three things I seek are in this land and nearhand, yet I know not the exact spot wherein to find them. An thou have true information concerning the place and will inform me thereof, I on my part will never forget thy kindness, and I shall have the satisfaction of feeling that this long and toilsome wayfare hath not been wholly vain.” Hearing these words of the Prince, the Darwaysh changed countenance and his face waxed troubled and his colour wan; then he bent his glance downwards and sat in deepest silence. Whereat the other said, “O holy father, dost thou not understand the words wherewith I have bespoken thee? An thou art ignorant of the matter prithee let me know straightway that I may again fare onwards until such time as I find a man who can inform me thereof.” After a long pause the Darwaysh made reply, “O stranger, ’tis true I ken full well the site whereof thou are in search; but I hold thee dear in that thou hast been of service to me; and I am loath for thine own sake to tell thee where to find that stead.” And the Prince rejoined, “Say me, O Fakir, why dost thou withhold this knowledge from me, and wherefore art thou not lief to let me learn it?” Replied the other, “’Tis a hard road to travel and full of perils and dangers. Besides thyself many have come hither and have asked the path of me, and I refused to tell them, but they heeded not my warning and pressed me sore and compelled me to disclose the secret which I would have buried in my breast. Know, O my son, that all those braves have perished in their pride and not one of them hath returned to me safe and sound. Now, an thy life be dear to thee, follow my counsel and fare no further, but rather turn thee back without stay or delay and make for house and home and family.” Hereto Prince Bahman, stern in resolution, made reply, “Thou hast after kindly guise and friendly fashion advised me with the best of advice; and I, having heard all thou hast to day, do thank thee gratefully. But I reck not one jot or tittle of what dangers affront me, nor shall thy threats however fatal deter me from my purpose: moreover, if thieves or foemen haply fall upon me, I am armed at point and can and will protect myself, for I am certified that none can outvie me in strength and stowre.” To this the Fakir made reply, “The beings who will cut thy path and bar thy progress to that place are unseen of man, nor will they appear to thee on any wise: how then canst thou defend thyself against them?” And he replied, “So be it, still I fear not and I pray thee only show me the road thither.” When the Darwaysh was assured that the Prince had fully determined in mind to attempt the exploit and would by no means turn or be turned back from carrying out his purpose, he thrust his hand into a bag which lay hard by and took therefrom a ball, and said, “Alas, O my son, thou wilt not accept my counsel and I needs must let thee follow thy wilful way. Take this ball and, mounting thy horse, throw it in front of thee, and as long as it shall roll onwards do thou ride after it, but when it shall stop at the hill-foot dismount from thy horse and throw the reins upon his neck and leave him alone, for he will stay there without moving until such time as thou return. Then manfully breast the ascent, and on either side of the path, right and left, thou shalt see a scatter of huge black boulders. Here the sound of many voices in confused clamour and frightful will suddenly strike thine ears, to raise thy wrath and to fill thee with fear and hinder thy higher course uphill. Have a heed that thou be not dismayed, also beware, and again say I beware, lest thou turn they head at any time, and cast a look backwards. An thy courage fail thee, or thou allow thyself one glance behind thee, thou shalt be transformed that very moment into a black rock; for know thou, O Prince, that all those stones which thou shalt see strewn upon thy way were men whilome and braves like thyself, who went forth with intent to gain the three things thou seekest, but frightened at those sounds lost human shape and became black boulders. However, shouldst thou reach the hill-top sae and sound, thou shalt find on the very summit a cage and perched therein the Speaking-Bird ready to answer all thy queries. So ask of him where thou mayest find the Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water, and he will tell thee all thou requirest. When thou shalt safely have seized all three thou wilt be free from further danger; yet, inasmuch as thou hast not yet set out upon this journey give ear to my counsel. I beg of thee to desist from this thy purpose and return home in peace whilst thou hast yet the power."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince made answer to the Darwaysh, “Until, O thou holy man, such time as I win to my purpose I will not go back; no, never; therefore adieu.” So he mounted his horse and threw the ball in front of him; and it rolled forward at racing-speed and he, with gaze intent thereupon, rode after it and did not suffer it to gain upon him. When it had reached the hill whereof the Darwaysh spake, it ceased to make further way, whereupon the Prince dismounted and throwing the reins on his horse’s neck left him and fared on afoot to the slope. As far as he could see, the line of his path from the hill-foot to the head was strown with a scatter of huge black boulders; withal his heart felt naught of fear. He had not taken more than some four or five paces before a hideous din and a terrible hubbub of many voices arose, even as the Darwaysh had forewarned him. Prince Bahman, however, walked on valiantly with front erect and fearless tread, but he saw no living thing and heard only the Voices362 sounding all around him. Some said, “Who is yon fool man and whence hath he come?” Stop him, let him not pass!” Others shouted out, “Fall on him, seize this zany and slay him!” Then the report waxed louder and louder still, likest to the roar of thunder, and many Voices yelled out, “Thief! Assassin! Murderer!” Another muttered in taunting undertones, “Let him be, fine fellow that he is! Suffer him to pass on, for he and he only shall get the cage and the Speaking-Bird.” The Prince feared naught but advanced hot foot with his wonted verve and spirit; presently, however, when the Voices kept approaching nearer and nearer to him and increased in number on every side, he was sore perplexed. His legs began to tremble, he staggered and in fine overcome by fear he clean forgot the warning of the Darwaysh and looked back, whereat he was incontinently turned to stone like the scores of knights and adventurers who had foregone him. Meantime the Princess Perizadah ever carried the hunting-knife, which Bahman her brother had given her, sheathed as it was in her maiden zone. She had kept it there ever since he set out upon his perilous expedition, and whenever she felt disposed she would bare the blade and judge by its sheen how fared her brother. Now until that day when he was transmewed to stone she found it, as often as she looked at it, clean and bright; but on the very evening when that evil fate betided him perchance Prince Parwez said to Perizadah, “O sister mine, give me I pray thee the hunting-knife that I may see how goeth it with our brother.” She took it from her waist-belt and handed it to him; and as soon as he unsheathed the knife lo and behold! he saw gouts of gore begin to drop from it. Noting this he dashed the hunting-knife down and burst out into loud lamentations, whilst the Princess who divined what had happened shed a flood of bitter tears and cried with sighs and sobs, “Alas, O my brother, thou hast given thy life for me. Ah, woe is me and well-away! why did I tell thee of the Speaking-Bird and the Singing-Tree and the Golden- Water? Wherefore did I ask that holy woman how she liked our home, and hear of those three things in answer to my question? Would to Heaven she had never crossed our threshold and darkened our doors! Ungrateful hypocrite, dost thou requite me on such wise for the favour and the honour I was fain to show thee; and what made me ask of thee the means whereby to win these things? If now I obtain possession of them what will they advantage me, seeing that my brother Bahman is no more? What should I ever do with them?” Thus did Perizadah indulge her grief bewailing her sad fate; while Parwez in like manner moaned for his brother Bahman with exceeding bitter mourning. At last the Prince, who despite his sorrow was assured that his sister still ardently desired to possess the three marvels, turned to Perizadah and said, “It behoveth me, O my sister, to set out forthright and to discover whether Bahman our brother met his death by doom of Destiny, or whether some enemy have slain him; and if he hath been killed then must I take full vengeance on his murtherer.” Perizadah besought him with much weeping and wailing not to leave her, and said, “O joy of my heart, Allah upon thee, follow not in the footsteps of our dear departed brother or quit me in order to attempt a journey so rife in risks. I care naught for those things in my fear lest I lose thee also while attempting such enterprise.” But Prince Parwez would in no wise listen to her lament and next day took leave of her, but ere he fared she said to him, “The hunting-knife which Bahman left with me was the means of informing us concerning the mishap which happened to him; but, say me how I shall know what happeneth to thee?” Then he produced a string of pearls which numbered one hundred and said, “As long as thou shalt see these pearls all parted one from other and each running loose upon the string, then do thou know that I am alive; but an thou shouldst find them fixed and adhering together then be thou ware that I am dead.” The Princess taking the string of pearls hung it around her neck, determined to observe it hour after hour and find out how it fared with her second brother. After this Prince Parwez set out upon his travels and at the twentieth stage came to the same spot where Bahman had found the Darwaysh and saw him there in like condition. Then, after saluting him with the salam, the Prince asked, “Canst thou tell me where to find the Speaking-Bird and the Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water; and by what manner of means I may get possession of them? An thou can I pray thee inform me of this matter."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Darwaysh strave to stay Prince Parwez from his design and shewed him all the dangers on the way. Quoth he, “Not many days ago one like unto thee in years and in features came hither and enquired of me concerning the matter you now seekest. I warned him of the perils of the place and would have weaned him from his wilful ways, but he paid no wise heed to my warnings and refused to accept my counsel. He went off with full instructions from me on how to find those things he sought; but as yet he hath not returned, and doubtless he also hath perished like the many who preceded him upon that perilous enterprise.” Then said Prince Parwez, “O holy father, I know the man of whom thou speakest, for that he was my brother; and I learned that he was dead, but have no inkling of the cause whereby he died.” Replied the Darwaysh, “O my lord, I can inform thee on this matter; he hath been transmewed into a black stone, like the others of whom I just now spake to thee. If thou wilt not accept my advice and act accordingly to my counsel thou also shalt perish by the same means as did thy brother; and I solemnly forewarn thee to desist from this endeavour.” Prince Parwez having pondered these words, presently made reply, “O Darwaysh, I thank thee again and again and am much beholden to thee that thou art fain of my welfare and thou hast given me the kindest of counsel and the friendliest of advice; nor am I worthy of such favours bestowed upon a stranger. But now remaineth naught for me to beseech that thou wilt point out the path, for I am fully purposed to fare forwards and in no wise to desist from my endeavour. I pray thee favour me with full instructions for the road even as thou favouredst my brother.” Then said the Darwaysh, “An thou wilt not lend ear to my warnings and do as I desire thee, it mattereth to me neither mickle nor little. Choose for thyself and I by doom of Destiny must perforce forward thy attempt and albeit, by reason of my great age and infirmities, I may not conduct thee to the place I will not grudge thee a guide.” Then Prince Parwez mounted his horse and the Darwaysh taking one of many balls from out his scrip placed it in the youth’s hands, directing him the while what to do, as he had counselled his brother Bahman; and, after giving him much advice and many warnings he ended with saying, “O my lord, have a heed not to be perplexed and terrified by the threatening Voices363, and sounds from unseen beings, which shall strike thine ear; but advance dauntless to the hill-top where thou shalt find the cage with the Speaking-Bird and the Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water.” The Fakir then bid him adieu with words of good omen and the Prince set forth. He threw the ball upon the ground before him and, as it rolled up the path, he urged his horse to keep pace with it. But when he reached the hill-foot and saw that the ball had stopped and lay still, he dismounted forthright and paused awhile ere he should begin to climb and conned well in his mind the directions, one and all, given to him by the Darwaysh. Then, with firm courage and fast resolve, he set out afoot to reach the hill-top. But hardly had he begun to climb before he heard a voice beside him threatening him in churlish tongue and crying, “O youth of ill-omen, stand still that I may trounce thee for this thine insolence.” Hearing these insulting words of the Invisible Speaker, Prince Parwez felt his blood boil over; he could not refrain his rage and in his passion he clean forgot the words of wisdom wherewith the Fakir was warned him. He seized his sword and drawing it from the scabbard, turned about to slay the man who durst insult him in such wise; but he saw no one and, in the act of looking back both he and his horse became black stones. Meanwhile the Princess ceased not at all hours of the day and watches of the night to consult the string of pearls which Parwez had left her; she counted them overnight when she retired to rest, she slept with them around her neck during the hours of darkness, and when she awoke at the dawn of day she first of all consulted them and noted their condition. Now at the very hour when her second brother was turned to stone she found the pearls sticking one to other so close together that she might not move a single bead apart from its fellows and she knew thereby that Prince Parwez also was lost to her for ever. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:-I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princess Perizadah was sore grieved at so sudden a blow and said to herself, “Ah! Woe is me and well-away! How bitter will be living without the love of such brothers whose youthtide was sacrificed for me! ’Tis but right that I share their fate whate’er be my lot; else what shall I have to say on the Day of Doom and the Resurrection of the Dead and the Judgment of Mankind?” Wherefore next morning, without further let or stay, she donned disguise of man’s attire; and, warning her women and slaves that she would be absent on an errand for a term of days during which they would be in charge of the house and goods, she mounted her hackney and set out alone and unattended. Now, inasmuch as she was skilled in horsemanship and had been wont to accompany her brothers when hunting and hawking, she was better fitted than other women to bear the toils and travails of travel. So on the twentieth day she arrived safe and sound at the hermitage-hut where, seeing the same Shaykh, she took seat beside him and after salaaming to him and greeting him she asked him, “O holy father, suffer me to rest and refresh myself awhile in this site of good omen; then deign point out to me, I pray thee, the direction of the place, at no far distance herefrom, wherein are found a certain Speaking-Bird and a Singing-Tree and a Golden-Water. An thou wilt tell me I shall deem this the greatest of favour.” Replied the Darwaysh, “Thy voice revealeth to me that thou art a woman and no man, albeit attired in male’s apparel. Well I wot the stead whereof thou speakest and which containeth the marvellous things thou hast named. But say me, what is thy purpose in asking me?” The Princess made reply, “I have been told many a tale anent these rare and wondrous things, and I would fain get possession of them and bear them to my home and make them its choicest adornments.” And said the Fakir, “O my daughter, in very truth these matters are exceeding rare and admirable: right fit are they for fair ones like thyself to win and take back with thee, but thou hast little inkling of the dangers manifold and dire that encompass them. Better far were it for thee to cast away this vain thought and go back by the road thou camest.” Replied the Princess, “O holy father and far-famed anchorite, I come from a distant land whereto I will nevermore return, except after winning my wish; no, never! I pray thee tell me the nature of those dangers and what they be, that hearing thereof my heart may judge if I have or have not the strength and the spirit to meet them.” Then the Shaykh described to the Princess all the risks of the road as erst he had informed Princes Bahman and Parwez; and he ended with saying, “The dangers will display themselves as soon as thou shalt begin to climb the hill-head where is the home of the Speaking-Bird. Then, if thou be fortunate enough to seize him, he will direct thee where to find the Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water. All the time thou climbest the hill, Voices from throats unseen and accents fierce and fell shall resound in thine ears. Furthermore, thou shalt see black rocks and boulders strewn upon thy path; and these, thou must know, are the transformed bodies of men who with exceeding courage attempted the same enterprise, but filled with sudden fear and tempted to turn and to look backwards were changed into stones. Now do thou steadily bear in mind what was their case. At the first the listened to those fearful sounds and cursings with firm souls, but anon their hearts and minds misgave them, or, haply, they fumed with fury to hear the villain words addressed to them and they turned about and gazed behind them, whereat both men and horses became black boulders.” But when the Darwaysh had told her every whit, the Princess made reply, “From what thou sayest it seemeth clear to me that these Voices can do nothing but threaten and frighten by their terrible din; furthermore that there is naught to prevent a man climbing up the hill, nor is there any fear of any one attacking him; all he hath to do is on no account to look behind him.” And after a short pause she presently added, “O Fakir, albeit a woman yet I have both nerve and thews to carry me through this adventure. I shall not heed the Voices not be enraged thereat, neither will they have any power to dismay me: moreover, I have devised a device whereby my success on this point is assured.” “And what wilt thou do?” asked he, and she answered, “I will stop mine ears with cotton so may not my mind be disturbed and reason perturbed by hearing those awesome sounds.” The Fakir marvelled with great marvel and presently exclaimed, “O my lady, methinks thou art destined to get possession of the things thou seekest. This plan hath not occurred to any hitherto364 and hence it is haply that one and all have failed miserably and have perished in the attempt. Take good heed to thyself, however, not run any risk other than the enterprise requireth.” She replied, “I have no cause for fear since this one and only danger is before me to prevent happy issue. My heart doth bear me witness that I shall surely gain the guerdon wherefor I have undertaken such toil and trouble, But now do thou tell me what I must do, and whither to win my wish I must wend.” The Darwaysh once more besought her to return home, but Perizadah refused to listen and remained as firm and resolute as before; so when he saw that she was fully bent upon carrying out her purpose he exclaimed, “Depart, O my daughter, in the peace of Almighty Allah and His blessing; and may He defend thy youth and beauty from all danger.” Then taking from his bag a ball he gave it her and said, “When thou art seated in saddle throw this before thee and follow it whitherso it lead thee; and when it shall stop at the hill-foot then dismount and climb the slope. What will happen after I have already told thee."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princess after farewelling the Fakir straightway bestrode her steed and threw the ball in front of his hooves as she had been bidden do. It rolled along before her in the direction of the hill and she urged her hackney to keep up with it, until reaching the hill it suddenly stopped. Hereat the Princess dismounted forthwith and having carefully plugged both her ears with cotton, began to breast the slope with fearless heart and dauntless soul; and as soon as she had advanced a few steps a hubbub of voices broke out all around her, but she heard not a sound, by reason of her hearing being blunted by the cotton-wool. Then hideous cries arose with horrid din, still she heard them not; and at last they grew to a storm of shouts and shrieks and groans and moans flavoured with foul language such as shameless women use when railing one at other. She caught now and then an echo of the sounds but recked naught thereof and only laughed and said to herself, “What care I for their scoffs and jeers and fulsome taunts? Let them hoot on and bark and bay as they may: this at least shall not turn me from my purpose.” As she approached the goal the path became perilous in the extreme and the air was so filled with an infernal din and such awful sounds that even Rustam would have quailed thereat and the bold spirit of Asfandiyar365 have quaked with terror. The Princess, however, pressed on with uttermost speed and dauntless heart till she neared the hill-top and espied above her the cage in which the Speaking-Bird was singing with melodious tones; but, seeing the Princess draw nigh, he broke out despite his puny form in thundering tones and cried, “Return, O fool: hie thee back not dare come nearer.” Princess Perizadah heeded not his clamour a whit but bravely reached the hill-top, and running over the level piece of ground made for the cage and seized it saying, “At last I have thee and thou shalt not escape me.” She then pulled out the cotton-wool wherewith she had stopped her ears, and heard the Speaking-Bird reply in gentle accents, “O lady valiant and noble, be of good cheer for no harm or evil shall betide thee, as hath happened to those who essayed to make me their prize. Albeit I am encaged I have much secret knowledge of what happeneth in the world of men and I an content to become thy slave, and for thee to be my liege lady. Moreover I am more familiar with all that concerneth thee even than thou art thyself; and one day of the days I will do thee a service which shall deserve thy gratitude. What is now thy command? Speak that I may fulfil thy wish.” Princess Perizadah was gladdened by these words, but in the midst of her joy she grieved at the thought of how she had lost her brothers whom she loved with a love so dear, and anon she said to the Speaking-Bird, “Full many a thing I want, but first tell me of the Golden-Water, of which I have heard so much, be nigh unto this place and if so do thou show me where to find it.” The Bird directed her accordingly and the Princess took a silver flagon she had brought with her and filled it brimful from the magical fount. Then quoth she to the Bird, “The third and last prize I have come to seek is the Singing- Tree; discover to me where that also can be found.” The Bird replied, “O Princess of fair ones, behind thy back in yonder clump that lieth close at hand groweth the Tree;” so she went forthright to the copse and found the Tree she sought singing with sweetest toned voice. But inasmuch as it was huge in girth she returned to her slave the Bird and said, “The Tree indeed I found but ’tis lofty and bulky; how then shall I pull it up?” and he made answer, “Pluck but a branchlet of the Tree and plant it in thy garden; ’twill at once take root and in shortest time be as gross and fair a growth as that in yonder copse.” So the Princess broke off a twig, and now that she had secured the three things, whereof the holy woman spake to her, she was exceeding joyful and turning to the Bird said, “I have in very deed won my wish, but one thing is yet wanting to my full satisfaction. My brothers who ventured forth with this same purpose are lying hereabouts turned into black stones; and I fain would have them brought to life again and the twain return with me in all satisfaction and assurance of success. Tell me now some plan whereby mine every desire may be fulfilled."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Speaking-Bird replied, “O Princess, trouble not thyself, the thing is easy. Sprinkle some of the Golden-Water from the flagon upon the black stones lying round about, and by virtue thereof each and every shall come to life again, thy two brothers as well as the others.” So Princess Perizadah’s heart was set at rest and taking the three prizes with her she fared forth and scattered a few drops from the silver flagon upon each black stone as she passed it when, lo and behold! they came to life as men and horses. Amongst them were her brothers who she at once knew and falling on their necks she embraced them, and asked in tones of surprise, “O my brothers, what do ye here?” To this they answered, “We lay fast asleep.” Quoth she, “Strange indeed that ye take delight in slumber away from me and ye forget the purpose wherefor ye left me; to wit, the winning of the Speaking-Bird and the Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water. Did ye not see this place all bestrown with dark hued rocks? Look now and say if there be aught left of them. These men and horses now standing around us were all black stones as ye yourselves also were; but, by the boon of Almighty Allah, all have come to life again and await the signal to depart. And if now ye wish to learn by what strange miracle both ye and they have recovered human shape, know ye that it hath been wrought by virtue of a water contained in this flagon which I sprinkled in the rocks with leave of the Lord of all Living. When I had gained possession of this cage and its Speaking-Bird, and also of the Singing-Tree, a wand whereof ye see in my hand, and lastly of the Golden-Water, I would not take them home with me unless ye twain could also bear me company; so I asked of this Bird the means whereby ye could be brought to life again. He made me drop some drops of the Golden-Water on the boulders and when I had done this ye two like all the others returned to life and to your proper forms.” Hearing these her words the Princes Bahman and Parwez thanked and praised their sister Perizadah; and all the other she had saved showered thanks and blessings on her hear saying with one accord, “O our lady, we are now thy slaves; nor can a lifelong service repay the debt of gratitude we owe thee for this favour thou hast shown us. Command and we are ready to obey thee with our hearts and our souls.” Quoth Perizadah, “The bringing back to life of these my brothers were my aim and purpose, and in so doing ye too have profited thereby; and I accept your acknowledgements as another pleasure. But now do ye mount each and every man his horse and ride back by the way ye came to your homes in Allah’s peace.” On this wise the Princess dismissed them and made herself ready to depart; but, as she was about to bestride her steed, Prince Bahman asked permission of her that he might hold in hand the cage and ride in front of her. She answered, “Not so, O brother mine; this Bird is now my slave and I will carry him myself. An thou wilt, take thou this twig with thee, but hold the cage only till I am seated in saddle.” She then mounted her hackney and, placing the cage before her on the pommel, bade her brother Parwez take charge of the Golden-Water in the silver flagon and carry it with all ease and the Prince did her bidding without gainsaying. And when they were all ready to ride forth, including the knights and the squires whom Perizadah had brought to life by sprinkling the Water the Princess turned to them and said, “Why delay we our departure and how is it that none offereth to lead us?” Bur as all hesitated she gave command, “Now let him amongst you number whose noblesse and high degree entitle him to such distinction fare before us and show us the way.” Then all with one accord replied, “O Princes of fair ones, there be none amongst us worthy of such honour, nor may any wight dare to ride before thee.” So when she saw that none amongst them claimed preeminence or right of guidance, and none desired to take precedence of the rest, she made excuse and said, “O my lords, ’tis not for me by right to lead the way, but since ye order I must needs obey.” Accordingly she pushed on to the front, and after came her brothers and behind them the rest. And as they journeyed on all desired to see the holy man, and thank him for his favours and friendly rede, but when they reached the spot where he dwelt they found him dead, and they knew not if old age had taken him away, or if he perished in his prise because the Princess Perizadah had found and carried off the three things whereof he had been appointed by Destiny guard and guide. — And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that all the company rode on, and as each one arrived at the road which led him to his natal land he took leave of the Lady Perizadah and went his way, until all were gone and the Princess and her brothers were the only left. At last they reached their journey’s end safe and sound, and on entering their mansion Perizadah hung the cage inside the garden hard by the belvedere and no sooner did the Speaking-Bird begin to sing than flights of ring-doves and bulbuls and nightingales and skylarks and parrots and other songsters came flocking around him from afar and anear. Likewise she set the twig, which she had taken from the Singing-Tree, in a choice parterre also hard by the belvedere, and forthright it took root and put forth boughs and buds and grew goodly in growth, till it became a trunk as large as that from which she had plucked the twig, whilst from its leafage went forth bewitching sounds rivalling the music of the parent tree. She lastly bid them carve her a basin of pure white marble and set it in the centre of the pleasure grounds; then she poured therein the Golden-Water and forthright it filled the bowl and sot upwards like a spouting fountain some twenty feet in height; moreover the gerbes and jets fell back whence they came and not one drop was lost: whereby the working of the waters was unbroken and ever similar. Now but few days passed ere the report of these three wonders was bruited abroad and flocked the folk daily from the city to solace themselves with the sight, and the gates stood always open wide and all who came had entrance to the house and gardens and free leave to walk about at will and see these rarities which affected them with admiration and delight. Then also, as soon as both the Princes had recovered from the toils of travel, they began to go a-hunting as heretofore; and it chanced one day they rode forth several miles from home and were both busies in the chase, when the Shah of Iran-land came by decree of Destiny to the same place for the same purpose. The Princes, seeing a band of knights and huntsmen drawing near, were fain to ride home and to avoid such meeting; so they left the hunting-grounds and turned them homewards. But as Fate and lot would have it they hit upon the very road whereby King Khusrau Shah was coming, and so narrow was the path that they could not avoid the horsemen by wheeling round and wending another way. So they drew rein perforce and dismounting the salaamed and did obeisance to the Shah and stood between his hands with heads held low. The Sovran, seeing the horses’ fine trappings and the Princes’ costly garments, thought that the two youths were in the suite of his Wazirs and his Ministers of state and much wished to look upon their faces; he therefore bade them raise their heads and stand upright in the presence and they obeyed his bidding with modest mien and downcast eyes. He was charmed to behold their comeliness of favour and their graceful forms and their noble air and their courtly mien; and, after gazing at them for some time in not a little wonder and admiration, he asked them who they were and when might be their names and where they abode. Hereto Prince Bahman made reply, “O Asylum of the Universe, we are the sons of one whose life was spent in serving the Shah, the Intendant of the royal gardens and pleasaunces. As his days grew to a close he builded him a home without the town for us to dwell in till we should grow to man’s estate and become fit to do thy Highness suit and service and carry out thy royal commands.” The Shah furthermore asked them, “How is it that ye go a-hunting? This is a special sport of Kings and is not meant for the general of his subjects and dependants.” Prince Bahman rejoined, “O Refuge of the World, we are yet young in years and being brought up at home we know little of courtly customs; but, as we look to bear arms in the armies of the Shah we fain would train our bodies to toil and moil.” This answer was honoured by the royal approof and the King rejoined, “The Shah would see how ye deal with noble game; so choose ye whatever quarry ye will and bring it down in the presence.” The Princes hereat remounted their horses and joined the Sovran; and when they reached the thickmost of the forest, Prince Bahman started a tiger and Prince Parwez rode after a bear; and the twain used their spears with such skill and good will that each killed his quarry and laid it at the Shah’s feet. Then entering the wood again Prince Bahman slew a bear, and Prince Parwez, a tiger366 and did as before; but when they would have ridden off the third time the King forbade them saying, “What! would ye strip the royal preserve of all the game? This be enough and more than enough, that Shah wished only to put your valour to the proof and having seen it with his own eyes he is fully satisfied. Come now with us and stand before us as we sit at meat.” Prince Bahman made reply, “We are not worthy of the high honour and dignity wherewith thou favourest us thy humble servants. We dutifully and humbly petition thy Highness to hold us excused for this day; but if the Asylum of the Universe deign appoint some other time thy slaves will right gladly execute thy auspicious orders."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that Khusrau Shah, astonished at their refusal, asked the cause thereof when Prince Bahman answered, “May I be thy sacrifice,367 O King of kings, we have at home an only sister; and all three are bound together with bonds of the fondest affection; so we brothers go not anywhere without consulting her nor doth she aught save according to our counsel.” The King was pleased to see such fraternal love and union and presently quoth he, “By the head of the Shah,368 he freely giveth you leave to go to-day: consult your sister and meet the Shadow of Allah369 to-morrow at this hunting-ground, and tell him what she saith and if she content to let to twain and wait upon the Shah at meat.” So the Princes farewelled and prayed for him; then rode back home; but they both forgot to tell their sister how they had fallen in with the King; and of all that passed between them they remembered not one word.370 Next day again they went ahunting and on returning from the chase the Shah enquired of them, “Have ye consulted with your sister if ye may serve the King, and what saith she thereto? Have ye obtained permission from her?” On hearing these words the Princes waxed aghast with fear; the colour of their faces changed, and each began to look into the other’s eyes. Then Bahman said, “Pardon, O Refuge of the World, this our transgression. We both forgot the command and remembered not to tell her sister.” Replied the King, “It mattereth not! ask her to-day and bring me word tomorrow.” But it so happened that on that day also they forgot the message yet the King was not annoyed at their shortness of memory, but taking from his pocket three little balls of gold, and tying them in a kerchief of sillk he handed them to Prince Bahman saying, “Put these balls in thy waist shawl, so shalt thou not forget to ask thy sister; and if perchance the matter escape thy memory, when thou shalt go to bed and take off thy girdle, haply the sound of them falling to the ground will remind thee of thy promise.” Despite this strict injunction of the Shadow of Allah the Princes on that day also clean forgot the order and the promise they had made to the King. When, however, night came on, and Prince Bahman went to his bed-chamber for sleep, he loosed his girdle and down fell the golden balls and at the sound the message of the Shah flashed across his thought. So he and his brother Parwez at once hastened to Perizadah’s bower, where she was about retiring to rest; and, with many excuses for troubling her at so unseasonable an hour, reported to her all that happened. She lamented their thoughtlessness which for three successive days had caused them to forget the royal behest and ended with saying, “Fortune hath favoured you, O my brothers, and brought you suddenly to the notice of the Asylum of the Universe, a chance which often hath led to the height of good. It grieveth me sore that on your over regard for our fraternal love and union ye did not take service with the King when he deigned command you. Moreover ye have far greater cause for regret and repentance than I in that ye failed to plead a sufficient excuse and that which ye offered must have sounded rude and churlish. A right dangerous thing it is to thwart Kingly wishes. In his extreme condescension the Shah commandeth you to take service with him and ye, in rebelling against his exalted orders have done foolishly and ye have caused me much trouble of mind. Howbeit I will sue counsel from my slave the Speaking-Bird and see what he may say; for when I have ever any hard and weighty question to decide I fail not to ask his advice.” Hereupon the Princess set the cage by her side and after telling her slave all that her brothers have made known to her, asked admonition of him regarding what they should do. The Speaking-Bird made answer, “It behoveth the Princes to gratify the Shah in all things he requireth of them; moreover, let them make ready a feast for the King and humbly pray them to visit this house, and thereby testify to him loyalty and devotion to his royal person.” Then said the Princess, “O Bird, my brothers are most dear to me nor would I suffer them leave my sight for one moment if it were possible; and Allah forfend that this daring on their part do injury to our love and affection.” Said the Speaking-Bird, “I have counselled thee for the best and have offered thee the right rede; nor do thou fear aught in following it, for naught save good shall come therefrom.” “But,” quoth the Princess, “an the Shadow of Allah honour us by crossing the threshold of this house needs must I present myself before him with face unveiled?”371 “By all means,” quoth the Speaking-Bird, “this will not harm thee, nay rather ’twill be to thine advantage."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that early next day the two Princes Bahman and Parwez rode as aforetime to the hunting-ground and met Khusrau Shah, who asked them, saying, “What answer bring ye from your sister?” Hereupon the elder brother advancing said, “O shadow of Allah, verily we are thy slaves and whatever thou deign bid that we are ready to obey. These less than the least have referred the matter to their sister and have obtained their consent; nay more, she blamed and chided them for that they did not hurry to carry out the commands of the Refuge of the World the moment they were delivered. Therefore being sore displeased at us, she desireth us on her behalf to plead forgiveness with the Sháhinshah372 for this offence by us offered.” Replied the King, “No crime have ye committed to call forth the royal displeasure: nay more, it delighteth the Shadow of Allah exceedingly to see the love ye twain bear towards your sister.” Hearing such words of condescension and kindliness from the Shah, the Princes held their peace and hung their heads for shame groundwards; and the King who that day was not keen, according to his custom, after the chase, whenever he saw the brothers hold aloof, called them to his presence and heartened their hearts with words of favour; and presently, when a-weary of sport, he turned the head of his steed palace-ward and deigned order the Princes to ride by his side. The Wazirs and Councillors and Courtiers one and all fumed with envy and jealousy to see two unknowns entreated with such especial favour; and as they rode at the head of the suite adown the market-street all eyes were turned upon the youths and men asked one of other, “Who be the two who ride beside the Shah? Belong they to this city, or come they from some foreign land?” And the folk praised and blessed them saying, “Allah send our King of kings two Princes as godly and gallant as are these twain who ride beside him. If our hapless Queen who languisheth in durance had brought forth sons, by Allah’s favour they would now be of the same age as these young lords.” But as soon as the cavalcade reached the palace the King alighted from his horse and led the Princes to his private chamber, a splendid retreat magnificently furnished, wherein a table had been spread with sumptuous meats and rarest cates; and having seated himself thereat he motioned them to do likewise. Hereupon the brothers making low obeisance also took their seats and ate in well-bred silence with respectful mien. Then the Shah, desiring to warm then into talk373 and thereby to test their wit and wisdom, addressed them on themes galore and asked of them many questions; and, inasmuch as they had been taught well and trained in every art and science, they answered with propriety and perfect ease. The Shah struck with admiration bitterly regretted that Almighty Allah had not vouchsafed to him sons so handsome in semblance and so apt and so learned as these twain; and, for the pleasure of listening to them, he lingered at meat longer than he was wont to do. And when he rose from table and retired with them to his private apartment he still sat longwhile talking with them and at last in his admiration he exclaimed, “Never until this day have I set eyes on youths so well brought up and so comely and so capable as are these, and methinks ’twere hard to find their equals anywhere.” In fine quoth he, “The time waxeth late, so now let us cheer our hearts with music.” And forthright the royal band of minstrels and musicians began to sing and perform upon instruments of mirth and merriment, whilst dancing-girls and boys displayed their skill, and mimes and mummers played their parts. The Princes enjoyed the spectacle with extreme joy and the last hours of the afternoon passed in royal revelry and regale. But when the sun had set and evening came on, the youths craved dismissal from the Shah with many expressions of gratitude for the exalted favours he had deigned bestow on them; and ere they fared forth the King of kings bespake them, saying, “Come ye again on the morrow to our hunting-ground as heretofore, and thence return to the palace. By the beard of the Shah, he fain would have you always with him, and solace him with your companionship and converse.” Prince Bahman, prostrating himself before the presence, answered, “’Tis the very end and aim of all our wishes, O Shadow of Allah upon Earth, that on the morrow when thou shalt come from the chase and pass by our poor house, thou graciously deign enter and rest in it awhile, thereby conferring the highmost of honours upon ourselves and upon our sister. Albeit the place is not worthy of the Shahinshah’s exalted presence, yet at times do mighty Kings condescend to visit the huts of their slaves.” The King, ever more and more enchanted with their comeliness and pleasant speech, vouchsafed a most gracious answer, saying, “The dwelling place of youths in your estate and degree will certainly be goodly and right worthy of you; and the Shah willingly consenteth for the morrow to become the guest of you twain and of your sister whom, albeit he have not yet seen, he is assured to find perfect in all gifts of body and mind. Do ye twain therefore about early dawn-tide expect the Shah at the usual trysting-place.” The Princes then craved leave to wend their ways; and going home said to their sister, “O Perizadah, the Shah hath decreed that to-morrow he will come to our house and rest here awhile after the hunt.” Said she, “An so it be, needs must we see to it that all be made ready for a royal banquet and we may not be put to shame when the Shadow of Allah shall deign shade us. There is no help but that in this matter I ask of my slave, the Speaking-Bird, what counsel he would give; and that I prepare according thereto such meats as are meet for him and are pleasing to the royal palate."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princes both approved of her plan and went to seek repose; whereupon Perizadah sent for the cage and setting it before her said, “O Bird, the Shah hath made a promise and hath decreed that he will deign honour this our house on the morrow, wherefore we must needs make ready for our liege lord the best of banquets and I bid thee say me what dishes should the kitcheners cook for him?” The Speaking-Bird replied, “O my lady, thou hast the most skilful of cooks and confectioners. Do thou bid them dress for thee the choicest dainties, but above all others see thou with thine own eyes that they set before the Shah a dish of new green cucumbers stuffed with pearls.” Quoth the Princess in utter wonderment, “Never until this time heard I of such a dainty! How? Cucumbers with a filling of pearls! And what will the King, who cometh to eat bread and not to gaze on stones, say to such meat? Furthermore, I have not in my possession pearls enough to serve for even a single cucumber.” Replied the Speaking-Bird, “This were an easy matter: do thou dread naught but only act as I shall advise thee. I seek not aught save thy welfare and would on no wise counsel thee to thy disadvantage. As for the pearls thou shalt collect them on this wise: go thou to-morrow betimes to the pleasure-gardens and bid a hole be dug at the foot of the first tree in the avenue by thy right hand, and there shalt thou find of pearls as large a store as thou shalt require.” So after dawn on the next day Princess Perizadah bade a gardener-lad accompany her and fared to the sire within the pleasure-gardens whereof the Speaking-Bird had told her. Here the boy dug a hole both deep and wide when suddenly his spade struck upon somewhat hard, and he removed with his hands the earth and discovered to view a golden casket well nigh one foot square. Hereupon the young gardener showed it to the Princess who explained, “I brought thee with me for this very reason. Take heed and see that no harm come to it, but dig it out and bring it to me with all care.” When the lad did her bidding she opened it forthright and found it filled with pearls and unions fresh from the sea, round as rings and all of one and the same size perfectly fitted for the purpose which the Speaking-Bird had proposed. Perizadah rejoiced with extreme joy at the sight and taking up the box walked back with it to the house; and the Princes who had seen their sister faring forth betimes with the gardener-lad and had wondered why she went to the park thus early unaccording to her wonted custom, catching sight of her from the casement quickly donned their walking dresses and came to meet her. And as the two brothers walked forwardes they saw the Princess approaching them with somewhat unusual under her arm, which when they met, proved to be a golden casket whereof they knew naught. Quoth they, “O our sister at early light we espied thee going to the pleasure- grounds with a gardener-lad empty handed, but now thou bringest back this golden casket; so disclose to us where and how thou hast found it; and haply there may be some hoard close hidden in the parterre?” Perizadah replied, “Sooth ye say, O my brothers: I took this lad with me and made him dig under a certain tree where we came upon this box of pearls, at the sight whereof methinks your hearts will be delighted.” The Princess straightway opened the box and her brothers sighting the pearls and unions were amazed with extreme amazement and rejoiced greatly to see them. Quoth the Princess, “Come now ye twain with me, for that I have in hand a weighty matter;” and quoth Prince Bahman, “What is there to do? I pray thee tell us without delay for never yet hast thou kept aught of thy life from us.” She made reply, “O my brothers, I have naught to hide from you, nor think ye any ill of me, for I am now about to tell you all the tale.” Then she made known to them what advice the Speaking-Bird had given to her; and they, conning the matter over in this minds, marvelled much why her slave had bidden them set a dish of green cucumbers stuffed with pearls before the Shah, nor could they devise any reason for it. Presently the Princess resumed, “The Speaking-Bird indeed is wise and ware; so methinks this counsel must be for our advantage; and at any rate it cannot be without some object and purpose. It therefore behoveth us to do even as he hath commanded.” Hereupon the Princess went to her own chamber and summoning the head cook said to him, “This day the Shah, the Shadow of Allah upon Earth, will condescend here to eat the noon-meal. So do thou take heed that the meats be of choiest flavour and fittest to set before the Asylum of the World, but of all the dishes there is one thou alone must make and let not another have a hand therein. This shall be of the freshest green cucumbers with a stuffing of unions and pearls."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the head Cook listened to this order of the Princess with wonderment and said in himself, “Who ever heard of such a dish or dreamed of ordering such a one.” The Lady seeing his astonishment betrayed in his semblance without the science of thought-reading,374 said to him, “It seemeth from thy countenance that thou deemest me daft of wit to give thee such order. I know that no one ever tasted a dish of the kind, but what is that to thee? Do thou e’en as thou art bidden. Thou seest this box brimful on pearls; so take of them as many as thou needest for the dish, and what remaineth over leave in the box.” The Kitchener who could answer nothing in his confusion and amazement, chose as many precious stones as he required, and presently fared away to superintend the meats being cooked and made ready for the feast. Meanwhile the Princess when over the house and grounds and gave directions to the slaves about the ordinance thereof, leading especial attention to the carpets and divans, the lamps and all other furniture. Next day at break of dawn Princes Bahman and Parwez rode forth in rich attire to the appointed place where they first met the Shah, who was also punctual to his promise and vouchsafed to join them in the hunt. Now when the sun had risen high and its rays waxed hot, the King gave up the chase, and set forth with the Princes to their house; and as they drew nigh thereto the cadet pushed forwards and sent word to the Princess that the Asylum of the World was coming in all good omen. Accordingly, he hastened to receive him and stood waiting his arrival at the inner entrance; and after, when the King rode up to the gate and dismounting within the court stepped over the threshold of the house-door, she fell down at his feet and did worship. Hereat her brothers said, “O Asylum of the World, this is our sister of whom we spake;” and the Shah with gracious kindness and condescension raised her by the hand, and when he saw her face he marvelled much at its wondrous comeliness and loveliness. He thought in himself, “How like she is to her brothers in favour and form, and I trow there be none of all my lieges in city or country who can compare with them for beauty and noble bearing. This country-house also exceedeth all that I have ever seen in splendour and grandeur.” The Princess then led the Shah through the house and showed him all the magnificence thereof, while he rejoiced with extreme joy at everything that met his sight. So when King Khusrau had considered whatso was in the mansion he said to the Princess, “This home of thine is far grander than any palace owned by the Shah, who would now stroll about the pleasure-garden, never doubting but that it will be delightsome at the house.” Hereat the Princess threw wide open the door whence the grounds could be seen; and at once the King beheld before and above all other things, the fountain which cast up incessantly, in gerbes and jets, water clear as crystal withal golden of hue. Seeing such prodigy he cried, “This is indeed a glorious gusher: never before saw I one so admirable. But say me where is its source, and by what means doth it shoot up in spurts so high? Whence cometh this constant supply and in what fashion was it formed? The Shah would fain see it near hand.” “O King of kings, and Lord of the lands,” quoth the Princess, “be pleased to do whatso thou desirest.” Thereupon they went up to the fountain and the Shah stood gazing upon it with delight when behold, he heard a concert of sugar-sweet voices choiring with the harmony and melody of wit-ravishing music. So he turned him around and gazed about him to discover the singers, but no one was in sight; and albeit he looketh both hard and near all was in vain, he heard the voices but he could descry no songster. At length completely baffled he exclaimed, “Whence come these most musical of sounds; and rise they from the bowels of earth or are they floating in the depths of air? They fill the heart with rapture, but strangely surprise the senses to see that no one singer is in sight.” Replied the Princess with a smile “O Lord of lords, there are no minstrels here and the strains which strike the Shah’s ear come from yonder tree. Deign walk on, I pray thee, and examine it well.” So be advanced thereto, ever more and more enchanted with the music, and he gazed now at the Golden-Water and now at the Singing-Tree till lost in wonderment and amazement; then, “O Allah,” said he to himself, “is all this Nature-made or magical, for in very deed the place is full of mystery?” Presently, turning to the Princess quoth he, “O my lady, prithee whence came ye by this wondrous tree which hath been planted in the middlemost of this garden: did anyone bring it from some far distant land as a rare gift, and by what name is it known?” Quoth Perizadah in reply, “O King of kings, this marvel hight Singing-Tree groweth not in our country. ’Twere long to recount whence and by what means I obtained it; and suffice it for the present to say that the Tree, together with the Golden-Water and the Speaking-Bird, were all found by me at one and the same time. Deign now accompany thy slave and look upon this third rarity; and when the Shah shall have rested and recovered from the toils and travails of hunting, the tale of these three strange things shall be told to the Asylum of the World in fullest detail.” Hereto the King replied, “All the Shah’s fatigue hath gone for gazing upon these wonders; and now to visit the Speaking-Bird."— And as the morning began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princess took the King and when she had shown to him the Speaking-Bird, they returned to the garden where he never ceased considering the fountain with extreme surprise and presently exclaimes, “How is this? No spring whence cometh all this water meeteth the Shah’s eye, and no channel; nor is there any reservoir large enough to contain it.” She replied, “Thou speakest sooth, O King of kings! This jetting font hath no source; and it springeth from a small marble basin which I filled from a single flagon of the Golden-Water; and by the might of Allah Almighty it increased and waxed copious until it shot up in this huge gerbe which the Shah seeth. Furthermore it ever playeth day and night; and, marvellous to relate, the water falling back from that height into the basin minisheth not in quantity nor is aught of it spilt or wasted.” Hereat the King, filled with wonder and astonishment, bade go back to the Speaking-Bird; whereupon the Princess led him to the belvedere whence he looked out upon thousands of all manner fowls carolling in the trees and filling air with their hymns and prises of the Creator; so he asked his guide, “O my lady, whence come these countless songsters which haunt yonder tree and make the welkin resound with their melodious notes; yet they affect none other of the trees?” Quoth Perizadah, “O King of kings, they are all attracted by the Speaking-Bird and flock hither to accompany his song; and for that his cage hangeth to the window of this belvedere they prefer only the nearest of the trees; and here he may be heard singing sweeter notes than any of the others, nay in a plaint more musical than that of any nightingale.” And as the Shah drew nigh the cage and gave ear to the Bird’s singing, the Princess called to her captive saying, “Ho, my slave the Bird, dost thou not perceive the Asylum of the Universe is here that thou payest him not due homage and worship?” Hearing these words the Speaking-Bird forthright ceased his shrilling and at the same moment all the other songsters sat in deepest silence; for they were loyal to their liege lord nor durst any one utter a note when he held his peace. The Speaking-Bird then spake in human voice saying, “O great King, may Almighty Allah by His Might and Majesty accord thee health and happiness;” so the Shah returned the salutation and the Slave of Princess Perizadah ceased not to shower blessings upon his head. Meanwhile the tables were spread after sumptuous fashion and the choicest meats were set before the company which was seated in due order and degree, the Shah placing himself hard by the Speaking-Bird and close to the casement where the cage was hung. Then the dish of green cucumbers having been set before him, he put forth his hand to help himself, but drew it back in wonderment when he saw that the cucumbers, ranged in order upon the plate, were stuffed with pearls which appeared at either end. He asked the Princess and her brothers, “What is this dish? It cannot be meant for food; then wherefore is it placed before the Shah? Explain to me, I command you, what this thing meaneth.” They could not give an answer unknowing what reply to make, and as all held their peace the Speaking-Bird answered for them saying, “O King of the Age and the Time, dost thou deem it strange to see a dish of cucumbers stuffed with pearls? How much stranger then it is that thou wast not astonished to hear that the Queen thy Consort had, contrary to the laws of Allah’s ordinance, given birth to such animals as dog and cat and musk-rat. This should have caused thee far more of wonder, for who hath ever heard of woman bearing such as these?” Hereat the Shah made answer to the Speaking-Bird, “All that thou sayest is right indeed and I know that such things are not after the law of Almighty Allah; but I believed the reports of the midwives, the wise women who were with the Queen such time she was brought to bed, for they were not strangers but her own sisters, born of the same parents as herself. How then could I do otherwise than trust their words?” Quoth the Speaking-Bird, “O King of kings, indeed the truth of the matter is not hidden from me. Albeit they be the sisters of thy Queen, yet seeing the royal favours and affection towards their cadette they were consumed with anger and hatred and despite by reason of their envy and jealousy. So they devised evil devices against her and their deceits at last succeeded in diverting thy thoughts from her, and in hiding her virtues from thy sight. Now are their malice and treason made manifest to thee; and, if thou require further proof, do thou summon them and question them of the case. They cannot hide it from thee and will be reduced to confess and crave thy pardon."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Speaking-Bird also said to Khusrau Shah, “These two royal brothers so comely and stalwart and this lovely Princess, their sister, are thine own lawful children to whom the Queen thy Consort gave birth. The midwives, thy sisters-in-law, by reason of the blackness of their hearts and faces bore them away as soon as they were born: indeed every time a child was given to thee they wrapped it in a bit of blanket and putting it in a basket committed it to the stream which floweth by the palace to the intent that it might die an obscure death. But it so fortuned that the Intendant of thy royal gardens espied these baskets one and all as they floated past his grounds, and took charge of the infants he found therein. He then caused them to be nursed and reared with all care and, whilst they were growing up to man’s estate, he looked to their being taught every art and science; and whilst his life endured he dealt with them and brought them up in love and tenderness as though they had been his very own. And now, O Khusrau Shah, wake from thy sleep of ignorance and heedlessness, and know that these two Princes Bahman and Parwez and the Princess Perizadah their sister are thine own issue and thy rightful heirs.” When the King heard these words and was assured of the purport being true and understood the evil doing of those Satans, his sisters-in-law, he said, “O Bird, I am indeed persuaded of thy soothfastness, for when I first saw these youths at the hunting-ground my bowels yearned with affection towards them and my heart felt constrained to love them as though they had been my own seed. Both they and their sister have drawn my affections to them as a magnet draweth iron: and the voice of blood crieth to me and compelleth me to confess the tie and to acknowledge that they are my true children, borne in the womb of my Queen, whose direful Destiny I have been the means of carrying out.” Then turning to the Princes and their sister he said with tearful eyes and broken voice, “Ye are my children and henceforth do ye regard me as your father.” At this they ran to him with rare delight and falling on his neck embraced him. Then they all sat down to meat and when they had finished eating, Khusrau Shah said to them, “O my children, I must now leave you, but Inshallah — Allah willing — I will come again to-morrow and bring with me the Queen your mother.” So saying he farewelled them fondly and mounting his horse departed to his palace; and no sooner had he seated himself upon his throne than he summoned the Grand Wazir and commanded him saying, “Do thou send this instant and bind in heaviest bonds those vile women, the sisters of my Queen; for their ill deeds have at last come to light and they deserve to die the death of murtherers. Let the Sworder forthright make sharp his sword; for the ground thirsteth for their blood. Go see thyself that they are beheaded without stay or delay: await not other order, but instantly obey my commandment.” The Grand Wazir went forth at one and in his presence the Envious Sisters were decapitated and this underwent fit punishment for their malice and their evil doing. After this, Khusrau Shah with his retinue walked afoot to the Cathedral-mosque whereby the Queen had been imprisoned for so many years in bitter grief and tenderly embraced her. Then seeing her sad plight and her careworn countenance and wretched attire he wept and cried, “Allah Almighty forgive me this mine unjust and wrongful dealing towards thee. I have put to death thy sisters who deceitfully and despitefully raised my wrath and anger against thee, the innocent, the guiltless; and they have received due retribution for their misdeeds."— And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till
Then said she:— I have heard, O auspicious King that the King spake kindly and fondly to his Consort, and told her all that had betided him, and what the Speaking-Bird had made known to him, ending with these words, “Come now with me to the palace where thou shalt thee thy two sons and daughter grown up to become the loveliest of things. Hie with me and embrace them and take them to thy bosom, for they are our children, the light of our etes. But first do thou repair to the Hammam and don thy royal robes and jewels.” Meanwhile tidings of these events were noised about the city how the King had at length shown due favour to the Queen, and had released her from bondage with his own hands and prayed forgiveness for the wrongs he had done to her; and how the Princes and the Princess had been proved to be her true-born children, and also how Khusrau Shah had punished her sisters who conspired against her; so joy and gladness prevailed both in city and kingdom, and all the folk blessed the Shah’s Bánú and cursed the Satanesses her sisters. And next day when the Queen had bathed in the Hammam and had donned royal dress and regal jewels, she went to meet her children together with the King who led up to her the Princes Bahman and Parwez and the Princess Perizadah and said, “See, here are thy children, fruit of thy womb and core of thy heart, thine own very sons and thy daughter: embrace them with all a mother’s love and extend thy favour and affection to them even as I have done. When thou didst give them birth, thine illomened sisters bore them away from thee and cast them into yonder stream and said that thou hadst been delivered first of a puppy, then of a kitten and lastly of a musk-ratling. I cannot console myself for having credited their calumnies and the only recompense I can make is to place in thine embrace these three thou broughtest forth, and whom Allah Almighty hath restored to us and hath made right worthy to be called our children.” Then the Princes and Princess fell upon their mother’s neck and fondly embraced her weeping tear-floods of joy. After this the Shah and the Banu sai down to meat together with their children; and when they had made an end of eating, King Khusrau Shah repaired to the garden with his Consort that he might show her the Singing-Tree and the fountain of Golden-Water, whereat the Queen was filled with wonder and delight. Next they turned to the belvedere and visited the Speaking-Bird of whom, as they sat at meat, the King had spoken to her in highest praise, and the Queen rejoiced in his sweet voice and melodious singing. And when they had seen all these things, the King mounted horse, Prince Bahman riding on his right hand and on his left Prince Parwez, while the Queen took Princess Perizadah with her inside her litter, and thus they set forth for the palace. As the royal cavalcade passed the city walls and entered the capital with royal pomp and circumstance, the subjects who had heard the glad tidings thronged in multitudes to see their progress and volleyed shouts of acclamation; and as the lieges had grieved aforetime to see the Queen-consort imprisoned, so now the rejoiced with exceeding joy to find her free once more. But chiefly they marvelled to look upon the Speaking-Bird, for the Princess carried the cage with her, and as they rode along thousands of sweet-toned songsters came swarming round them from every quarter, and flew as an escort to the cage, filling the air with marvellous music; while flocks of others, perching upon the trees and the housetops, carolled and warbled as it were to greet their lord’s cage accompanying the royal cavalcade. And when the palace was reached, the Shah and his Queen and his children sat down to a sumptuous banquet; and the city was illuminated, and everywhere dancings and merry-makings testified to the joy of the lieges; and for many days these revels and rejoicings prevailed throughout the capital and the kingdom where every man was blithe and happy and had feastings and festivities in his house, After these festivals King Khusrau Shah made his elder son Bahman heir to his throne and kingdom and committed to his hands the affairs of state in their entirety, and the Prince administered affairs with such wisdom and success that the greatness and glory of the realm were increased twofold. The Shah also entrusted to his youngest son Parwez the charge of his army, both of horsemen and foot-soldiers; and Princess Perizadah was given by her sire in marriage to a puissant King who reigned over a mighty country; and lastly the Queen-mother forgot in perfect joy and happiness the pangs of her captivity. Destiny ever afterwards endowed them, one and all, with days the most delectable and they led the liefest of lives until at last there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies and the Depopulator of palaces and the Garnerer of graveyards and the Reaper for Resurrection-day, and they became as though they had never been. So laud be to the Lord who dieth not and who knoweth no shadow of change.
End of Volume 9.
349 Compare with this tale its modern and popular version Histoire du Rossignol Chanteur (Spitta-Bey, No. x, p. 123): it contains the rosary (and the ring) that shrinks, the ball that rolls and the water that heals; etc. etc. Mr. Clouston somewhere asserts that the History of the Envious Sisters, like that of Prince Ahmad and the Perí-Banu, are taken from a MS. still preserved in the “King’s Library,” Paris; but he cannot quote his authority, De Sacy or Langlès. Mr. H. C. Coote (loc. Cit. P. 189) declares it to be, and to have been, “an enormous favourite in Italy and Sicily: no folk-tale exists in those countries at all comparable to it in the number of its versions and in the extent of its distribution.” He begins two centuries before Galland, sith Straparola (Notti Piacevoli), proceeds to Imbriani (Novajella Fiorentina), Nerucci (Novelle Montalesi), Comparetti (Nivelline Italiane) and Pitre (Fiabe Novelle e Racconti popolari Italiani, vol. I.); and informs us that “the adventures of the young girl, independently of the joint history of herself and her brother, are also told in a separate ”Fiaba“ in Italy. A tale called La Favenilla Coraggiosa is given by Visentini in his Fiabe Mantovane and it is as far as it is a counterpart of the second portion of Galland’s tale.” Mr. Coote also finds this story in Hahn’s “Griechische Märchen” entitled “Sun, Moon and Morning Star”— the names of the royal children. The King overhears the talk of three girls and marries the youngest despite his stepmother, who substitutes for her issue a puppy, a kitten and a mouse. The castaways are adopted by a herdsman whilst the mother is confined in a henhouse; and the King sees his offspring and exclaims, “These children are like those my wife promised me.” His stepmother, hearing this, threatens the nurse, who goes next morning disguised as a beggar-woman to the girl and induces her to long for the Bough that makes music, the Magic Mirror, and the bird Dickierette. The brothers set out to fetch them leaving their shirts which become black when the mishap befalls them. The sister, directed by a monk, catches the bird and revives the stones by the River of Life and the denouement is brought about by a sausage stuffed with diamonds. In Miss Stokes’ Collection of Hindu Stories (No. xx.) “The Boy who had a moon on his brow and a star on his chin” also suggests the “Envious Sisters.”
350 Pop. “Ghaut” = The steps (or path) which lead down to a watering-place. Hence the Hindí saying concerning the “rolling stone”— Dhobi-ka kuttá; na Gharká na Ghát-ká, = a washerwoman’s tyke, nor of the house nor of the Ghát-dyke.
351 Text “Khatíbah” more usually “Khutbah” = the Friday sermon preached by the Khatíb: in this the reigning sovereign is prayed for by name and his mention together with the change of coinage is the proof of his lawful rule. See Lane, M. F., chap. iii.
352 This form of eaves-dropping, in which also the listener rarely hears any good of himself is, I need hardly now say, a favourite incident of Eastern Storiology and even of history, e.g. Three men met together; one of them expressed the wish to obtain a thousand pieces of gold, so that he might trade with them; the other wished for an appointment under the Emir of the Moslems; the third wished to possess Yusuf’s wife, who was the handsomest of women and had reat political influence. Yusuf, being informed of what they said, sent for the men, bestowed one thousand dinars on him who wished for that sum, gave an appointment to the other and said to him who wished to possess the lady: “Foolish man! What induced you to wish for that which you can never obtain?” He then sent him to her and she placed him in a tent where he remained three days, receiving, each day, one and the same kind of food. She had him brought to her and said, “What did you eat these days past?” He replied: “Always the same thing!"—“Well,” said she, “all women are the same thing.” She then ordered some money and a dress to be given him, after which, she dismissed him. (Ibn Khallikan iii. 463-64.)
353 This ruthless attempt at infanticide was in accordance with the manners of the age nor has it yet disappeared from Rajput-land, China and sundry over-populous countries. Indeed it is a question if civilisation may not be compelled to revive the law of Lycurgus which forbade a child, male or female, to be brought up without the approbation of public officers appointed ad hoc. One of the curses of the XIXth century is the increased skill of the midwife and physician, who are now able to preserve worthless lives and to bring up semi-abortions whose only effect upon the breed is increased degeneracy. Amongst the Greeks and ancient Arabs the Malthusian practice was carried to excess. Poseidippus declares that in his day —
A man, although poor, will not expose his son;
But however rich, will not preserve his daughter.
See the commentators’ descriptions of the Wa’d al-Banát or burial of Mauúdát (living daughters), the barbarous custom of the pagan Arabs (Koran, chaps. Xvi. And lxxxi.) one of the many abominations, like the murderous vow of Jephtha, to which Al-Islam put a summary stop. (Ibn Khallikan, iii. 609-606) For such outcast children reported to be monsters, see pp. 402-412 of Mr. Clouston’s “Asiatic and European versions of four of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales,” printed by the Chaucer Society.
354 Hind. Chhuchhundar (Sorex caerulescens) which occurs repeatedly in verse; e.g., when speaking of low men advanced to high degree, the people say:—
Chhuchhúndar-ke sir-par Chambelí-ka tel.
The Jasmine-oil on the musk-rat’s head.
In Galland the Sultánah is brought to bed of un morceau de bois; and his Indian translator is more consequent, Hahn, as has been seen, also has the mouse but Hahn could hardly have reached Hindostan.
355 This title of Sháhinshah was first assumed by Ardashír, the great Persian conqueror, after slaying the King of Ispahán, Ardawán. (Tabari ii. 73.)
356 This imprisonment of the good Queen reminds home readers of the “Cage of Clapham” wherein a woman with child was imprisoned in A.D. 1700, and which was noted by Sir George Grove as still in existence about 1830.
357 Arab. Ayyám al-Nifás = the period of forty days after labour during which, according to Moslem law, a woman may not cohabit with her husband.
358 A clarum et venerabile nomen in Persia; meaning one of the Spirits that preside over beasts of burden; also a king in general, the P.N. of an ancient sovereign, etc.
359 This is the older pronunciation of the mod. (Khusrau) “Parvíz”; and I owe an apology to Mr. C.J. Lyall (Ancient Arabian Poetry) for terming his “Khusrau Parvêz” an “ugly Indianism” (The Academy, No. 100). As he says (Ibid. vol. x. 85), “the Indians did not invent for Persian words the sounds ê and ô, called majhúl (i.e. ‘not known in Arabic’) by the Arabs, but received them at a time when these wounds were universally used in Persia. The substitution by Persians of î and û for ê and ô is quite modern.”
360 i.e. Fairy-born, the (Parysatis) of the Greeks which some miswrite {Greek text}.
361 In Arab. Usually shortened to “Hazár” (bird of a thousand tales = the Thousand), generally called “‘Andalíb:” Galland has Bulbulhezer and some of his translators debase it to Bulbulkezer. See vol. v. 148, and the Hazár-dastán of Kazwíní (De Sacy, Chrest. iii. 413). These rarities represent the Rukh’s egg in “Alaeddin.”
362 These disembodied “voices” speaking either naturally or through instruments are a recognized phenomenon of the so-called “Spiritualism,” See p. 115 of “Supra-mundane Facts,” &c., edited by T.J. Nichols, M.D., &c., London, Pitman, 1865. I venture to remark that the medical treatment by Mesmerism, Braidism and hypnotics, which was violently denounced and derided in 1850, is in 1887 becoming a part of the regular professional practice and forms another item in the long list of the Fallacies of the Faculty and the Myopism of the “Scientist.”
363 I may also note that the “Hátif,” or invisible Speaker, which must be subjective more often than objective, is a common-place of Moslem thaumaturgy.
364 It may have been borrowed from Ulysses and the Sirens.
365 Two heroes of the Shahnámeh and both the types of reckless daring. The monomachy or duel between these braves lasted through two days.
366 The “Bágh” or royal tiger, is still found in the jungles of Mázenderán and other regions of Northern Persia.
367 In addressing the Shah every Persian begins with the formula “Kurbán-at básham” = may I become thy Corban or sacrifice. For this word (Kurbán) see vol. viii. 16.
368 The King in Persia always speaks of himself in the third person and swears by his own blood and head, soul, life and death. The form of oath is ancient: Joseph, the first (but not the last) Jew-financier of Egypt, emphasises his speech “by the life of Pharaoh.” (Gen. xiii. 15, 16.)
369 Another title of the Shah, making him quasi-divine, at any rate the nearest to the Almighty, like the Czar and the Emperor of China. Hence the subjects bow to him with the body at right angles as David did to Saul (I Sam. xxiv, 8) or fall upon the face like Joshua (v. 14).
370 A most improbable and absurd detail: its sole excuse is the popular superstition of “blood speaking to blood.” The youths being of the royal race felt that they could take unwarrantable liberties.
371 This is still a Persian custom because all the subjects, women as well as men, are virtually the King’s slaves.
372 i.e. King of kings, the {Greek text}.
373 Majlis garm karna, i.e. to give some life to the company.
374 In Arabic “‘Ilm al-Mukáshafah” = the science by which Eastern adepts discover man’s secret thoughts. Of late years it has appeared in England but with the same quackery and imposture which have ruined “Spiritualism” as the Faith of the Future.
This story is a compound of two distinct tales, namely, the Dream of Riches and the Quest of the Ninth Image. It has always been one of the most popular of the tales in our common version of the “Arabian Nights,” with this advantage, that it is perhaps the only one of the whole collection in which something like a moral purpose may be discovered —“a virtuous woman is more precious than fine gold.” Baron de Sacy has remarked of The Nights, that in the course of a few years after Galland’s version appeared “it filled Europe with its fame, though offering no object of moral or philosophical interest, and detailing stories merely for the pleasure of relating them.” But this last statement is not quite accurate: Shahrazad relates her stories merely to prolong her own life.
It is a curious fact — and one perhaps not very generally known — that the Tale of Zayn al-Asnám is one of two (the other being that of Khudádád) which Galland repudiated, as having been foisted into his 8th volume without his knowledge, as he expressly asserts in the “Avertissement” to the 9th vol., promising to remove them in a second edition, which, however, he did not live to see. I understand that M. Herrmann Zotenberg purposes showing, in his forthcoming edition of “Aladdin,” that these two histoires (including that of the Princess of Daryábár, which is interwoven with the tale of Khudádád and his Brothers) were Turkish tales translated by M. Petis de la Croix and were intended to appear in his “Mille et un Jours,” which was published, after his death, in 1710; and that, like most of the tales in that work, they were derived from the Turkish collection entitled “Al-Faráj ba’d al-Shiddah,” or Joy after Affliction. But that Turkish story-book is said to be a translation of the Persian collection entitled “Hazár ú Yek Rúz” (the Thousand and One Days), which M. Petis rendered into French.
In the preface to Petis’ work it is stated that during his residence in Persia, in 1675, he made a transcript of the “Hazár ú Yek Rúz,” by permission of the author, a dervish named Mukhlis, of Isfahán. That transcript has not, I understand, been found; but Sir William Ouseley brought a manuscript from Persia which contained a portion of the “Hazár ú Yek Rúz,” and which he says (“Travels” vol. ii. p. 21, note) agreed so far with the French version. And it does seem strange that Petis should go to the Turkish book for tales to include in his “Mille et un Jours” when he had before him a complete copy of the Persian original, and even if he did so, how came his French rendering of the tales in question into the hands of Galland’s publisher? The tales are not found in Petis’ version, which is regularly divided into 1001 Days, and the Turkish work, judging from the titles of the eleven first tales, of which I have seen a transcript by M. Zotenberg, has a number of stories which do not occur in the Persian.375 But I think it very unlikely that the tales of Khudádád and the Princess foisted into Galland’s 8th volume, were translated from the Turkish collection. In Galland the story of the Princess Daryábár is inserted in that of Khudádád; while in the Turkish story-book they are separate tales, the 6th recital being under the title, “Of the Vazír with the Daughter of the Prince of Daryábán,” and the 9th story is “Of the Sons of the Sovereign of Harrán with Khudádád.” This does not seem to support the assertion that these tales in Galland were derived from the Turkish versions: and it is not to be supposed, surely, that the translator of the versions in Galland conceived the idea of fusing the two stories together?
The first part of the tale of Zaun al-Asnam — the Dream of Riches — is an interesting variant of the tale in The Nights, vol. iv. p. 289, where (briefly to recapitulate, for purposes of comparison by-and-by) a man of Baghdad, having lost all his wealth and become destitute, dreams one night that a figure appeared before him and told him that his fortune was in Cairo. To that city he went accordingly, and as it was night when he arrived, he took shelter in a mosque. A party of thieves just then had got into an adjacent house from that same mosque, and the inmates, discovering them, raised such an outcry as to bring the police at once on the spot. The thieves contrive to get away, and the walí, finding only the man of Baghdad in the mosque, causes him to be seized and severely beaten after which he sends him to prison, where the poor fellow remains thirty days, when the walí sends for him and begins to question him. The man tells his story, at which the walí laughs, calls him an ass for coming so far because of a dream, and adds that he himself had had a similar dream of a great treasure buried in the garden of such a house in Baghdad, but he was not so silly as to go there. The poor man recognises his own house and garden from the walí’s description, and being set at liberty returns to Baghdad, and finds the treasure on the very spot indicated.
Lane, who puts this story (as indeed he has done with much better ones) among his notes, states that it is also related by El-Ishákí, who flourished during the reign of the Khalíf El-Ma’mún (9th century), and his editor Edward Stanley Poole adds that he found it also in a MS. of Lane’s entitled “Murshid ez-Zúwar ilá el-Abrar,” with the difference that it is there related of an Egyptian saint who travelled to Baghdad, and was in the same manner directed to his own house in El-Fustát.
The same story is told in the 6th book of the “Masnaví,” an enormously long sufí poem, written in Persian, by Jelád ed-Din, the founder of the sect of Muslim devotees generally known in Europe as the Dancing Dervishes, who died in 1272. This version differs from the Arabian in but a few and unimportant details: Arriving at Cairo, destitute and hungry, he resolves to beg when it is dark, and is wandering about, “one foot forward, one foot backwards,” for a third of the night, when suddenly a watchman pounces on him and beats him with fist and stick — for the people having been plagued with robbers, the Khalíf had given orders to cut off the head of any one found abroad at night. The wretched man begs for mercy till he has told his story, and when he has finished the watchman acquaints him of a similar dream he had had of treasure at Baghdad.376
A Turkish variant occurs in the “History of the Forty Vazírs,” where a poor water-carrier of Cairo, named Nu’mán, presents his son’s teacher with his only camel, which he used daily for carrying his skins of water, as a reward for instructing the lad in the Kurán, and his wife rails at him for his folly in no measured terms. In his sleep a white haired old man appears to him in a dream and tells him to go to Damascus, where he would find his portion. After this has occurred three times in succession, poor Nu’mán, spite of his wife’s remonstrances, sets out for Damascus, enters a mosque there, and receives a loaf of bread from a man who had been baking, and having eaten it falls asleep. Returning home, his wife reviles him for giving away a camel and doing other mad things. But again the venerable old man appears to him thrice in a dream, and bids him dig close by himself, and there he would find his provision. When he takes shovel and pick-axe to dig, his wife’s tongue is more bitter than before, and after he had laboured a while and begins to feel somewhat fatigued, when he asks her to take a short spell at the work, she mocks him and calls him anything but a wise man. But on his laying bare a stone slab, she thinks there must be something beneath it, and offers to relieve him. “Nu’mán,” quoth she “thou’rt weary now.” “No, I’m rested, says he. In the end he discovers a well, goes down into it, and finds a jar full of sequins, upon seeing which his wife clasps him lovingly round the neck, exclaiming, “O my noble little hubby! Blessed be God for thy luck and thy fortune!” Her tune changes, however, when the honest water-carrier tells her that he means to carry the treasure to the King, which he does, and the King having caused the money to be examined, the treasure is found to have the following legend written on it: “This is an alms from God to Nu’mán, by reason of his respect for the Kurán.”377
This curious story, which dates, as we have seen, at least as far back as the 9th century appears to be spread over Europe. Mr. E. Sidney Hartland, in an able paper treating of several of its forms in “The Antiquary” for February, 1887, pp. 45-48, gives a Sicilian version from Dr. Pitre’s collection, which is to this effect:
A poor fellow at Palermo, who got his living by salting tunny and selling it afterwards dreamt one night that a person came to him and said that if he wished to find his fortune he would find it under the bridge of the Teste. Thither he goes and sees a man in rags and is beginning to retire when the man calls him back, informs him that he is his fortune and bids him go at midnight of that same night to the place where he had deposited his casks of tunny, dig there, and whatever he found was his own. The tunny-seller gets a pick-axe and at midnight begins to dig. He comes upon a large flat stone, which he raises and discovers a staircase; he descends, and at the bottom finds an immense treasure of gold. In brief, he becomes so rich that he lends the King of Spain “a million,” to enable him to carry on his wars; the King makes him Viceroy of Sicily, and by-and by, being unable to repay the loan, raises him to the highest royal dignities.
Johannes Fungerus, in his “Etymologicon Latino-Græcum,” published at Leyden in 1607, in art. Somnus, gravely relates the story, with a young Dutchman for the hero and as having happened “within the memory of our fathers, both as it has been handed down in truthful and honourable fashion as well as frequently told to me.”378 His “true story” may thus be rendered:
A certain young man of Dort, in Holland, had squandered his wealth and all his estate and having contracted a debt, was unable to pay it. A certain one appeared to him in a dream, and advised him to betake himself to Kempen, and there on the bridge he would receive information from some one as to the way in which he should be extricated from his difficulties. He went there, and when he was in a sorrowful mood and thinking upon what had been told him and promenaded almost the whole day, a common beggar, who was asking alms, pitying his condition, sat down and asked him, “Why so sad?” Thereupon the dreamer explained to him his sad and mournful fate, and why he had come there forsooth, under the impulse of a dream, he had set out thither, and was expecting God as if by a wonder, to unravel this more than Gordian knot. The mendicant answered “Good Heaven! are you so mad and foolish as to rely on a dream, which is emptier than nothing, and journey hither? I should betake myself to Dort, to dig up a treasure buried under such a tree in such a man’s garden (now this garden had belonged to the dreamer’s father), likewise revealed to me in a dream.” The other remained silent and pondering all that had been said to him, then hastened with all speed to Dort, and under the aforesaid tree found a great heap of money, which freed him from his obligations, and having paid off all his debts, he set up in a more sumptuous style than before.
The second part of the tale, or novelette, of “The Spectre Barber,” by Musaeus (1735-1788), is probably an elaboration of some German popular legend closely resembling the last-cited version, only in this instance the hero does not dream, but is told by a ghost, in reward for a service he had done it (or him), to tarry on the great bridge over the Weser, at the time when day and night are equal, for a friend who would instruct him what he must do to retrieve his fortune. He goes there at dawn, and walks on the bridge till evening comes, when there remained no one but himself and a wooden legged soldier to whom he had given a small coin in the early morning, and who ventured at length to ask him why he had promenaded the bridge all day. The youth at first said he was waiting for a friend, but on the old soldier remarking that he could be no friend who would keep him waiting so long, he said that he had only dreamt he was to meet some friend (for he did not care to say anything about his interview with the ghost), the old fellow observed that he had had many dreams, but put not the least faith in them. “But my dream,” quoth the youth, “was a most remarkable one.” “It couldn’t have been so remarkable as one I had many years ago,” and so on, as usual, with this addition, that the young man placed the old soldier in a snug little cottage and gave him a comfortable annuity for life — taking care, we may be sure, not to tell him a word as to the result of acting upon his dream.
To what extent Musaeus has enlarged his original material it is impossible to say; but it is well known that, like Hans Andersen in later times, he did “improve and add to such popular tales and traditions as he dealt with — a circumstance which renders him by no means trustworthy for folk-lore purposes.
In Denmark our well-travelled little tale does duty in accounting for the building of a parish church, as we learn from Thorpe, in his “Northern Mythology,” vol. ii. p. 253:
Many years ago there lived in Erritsö, near Frederica, a very poor man who one day said, “If I had a large sum of money, I would build a church for the parish.” The following night he dreamed that if he went to the south bridge at Veile he would make his fortune. He followed the intimation and strolled backwards and forwards on the bridge until it grew late, but without seeing any sign of good fortune. When just on the point of returning, he was accosted by an officer, who asked him why he had spent a whole day so on the bridge. He told him his dream, on hearing which the officer related to him in return that he also on the preceding night had dreamed that in a barn in Erritsö, belonging to a man whose name he mentioned, a treasure lay buried. Now the name he mentioned was the man’s own, who prudently kept his own counsel, hastened home, and found the treasure in a barn. The man was faithful to his word, and built the church.379
Equally at home, as we have seen, in Sicily, Holland, Germany, and Denmark, the identical legend is also domiciled in Scotland and England. Thus Robert Chambers, in his “Popular Rhymes of Scotland,” ed. 1826, p. 56, speaking of Dundonald Castle, in Ayrshire, the ancient seat of King Robert II., relates the following local tradition:
Donald, the builder, was originally a poor man, but had the faculty of dreaming lucky dreams. Upon one occasion he dreamed thrice in one night that if he were to go to London Bridge he would make a fortune. He went accordingly, and saw a man looking over the parapet of the bridge, whom he accosted courteously, and after a little conversation, intrusted him with the secret of the occasion of his visiting London Bridge. The stranger told him that he had made a very foolish errand, for he had himself once had a similar vision, which directed him to go to a certain spot in Ayrshire, in Scotland, where he would find a vast treasure, and for his part he had never once thought of obeying the injunction. From his description of the spot, however, the sly Scot at once perceived that the treasure in question must be concealed nowhere but in his own humble kail-yard at home, to which he immediately repaired, in full expectation of finding it. Nor was he disappointed; for after destroying many good and promising cabbages, and completely cracking credit with his wife, who considered him as mad, he found a large potful of gold coin, with which he built a stout castle for himself, and became the founder of a flourishing family.
“This absurd story,” adds Chambers, “is localised in almost every district of Scotland always referring to London Bridge, and Hogg (the Ettrick Shepherd) has worked up the fiction in a very amusing manner in one of his ‘Winter Evening Tales,’ substituting the Bridge at Kelso for that of London.”
But the legend of the Chapman, or Pedlar, of Swaffam, in Norfolk, handed down, as it has been, from one credulous generation to another, with the most minute details and perfect local colour, throws quite into the shade all other versions or variants of the ancient tale of the poor man of Baghdad. Blomfield, in his “History of Norfolk,” 8vo ea., vol. vi. 211-213, reproduces it as follows, from Sir Roger Twysden’s “Reminiscences”:
“The story of the Pedlar of Swaffam Market is in substance this: That dreaming one night, if he went to London, he should certainly meet with man upon London Bridge which should tell him good news; he was so perplexed in his mind that till he set upon his journey he could have no rest. To London therefore he hastes, and walked upon the Bridge for some hours, where being espied by a shopkeeper and asked what he wanted, he answered, ‘You may well ask me that question, for truly (quoth he) I am come hither upon a very vain errand,’ and so told the story of his dream which occasioned his journey. Whereupon the shopkeeper replied, ‘Alas, good friend, should I have heeded dreams I might have proved myself as very a fool as thou hast; for ’tis not long since that I dreamt that at a place called Swaffam Market, in Norfolk, dwells one John Chapman, a pedlar, who hath a tree in his back yard, under which is buried a pot of money. Now, therefore if I should have made a journey thither to dig for such hidden treasure, judge you whether I should not have been counted a fool.’ To whom the Pedlar cunningly said, ‘Yes, truly: I will therefore return home and follow my business, not heeding such dreams hence-forward.’ But when he came home (being satisfied that his dream was fulfilled), he took occasion to dig in that place, and accordingly found a large pot full of money, which he prudently concealed, putting the pot among the rest of his brass. After a time, it happened that one who came to his house, and beholding the pot, observed an inscription upon it, which being in Latin he interpreted it, that under that there was another twice as good.380 Of this inscription the Pedlar was before ignorant, or at least minded it not; but when he heard the meaning of it, he said, ‘ ’Tis very true, in the shop where I bought this pot stood another under it which was twice as big’; but considering that it might tend to his further profit to dig deeper in the same place where he found that, he fell again to work and discovered such a pot as was intimated by the inscription, full of old coin; notwithstanding all which, he so concealed his wealth that the neighbours took no notice of it. But not long after the inhabitants of Swaffam resolving to re-edify their church, and having consulted the workmen about the charge, they made a levy, wherein they taxed the Pedlar according to no other rate but what they had formerly done. But he, knowing his own ability, came to the church and desired the workmen to show him their model and to tell him what they esteemed the charge of the north aisle would amount to, which when they told him, he presently undertook to pay them for building it, and not only that, but for a very tall and beautiful tower steeple.
“This is the tradition of the inhabitants, as it was told me there. And in testimony thereof, there was then his picture, with his wife and three children, in every window of the aisle, with an inscription running through the bottom of all those windows, viz., ‘Orate pro bono statu Johannis Chapman. . . . Uxoris ejus, et Liberorum quorum, qui quidem Johannes hanc alam cum fenestris tecto et . . . fieri fecit.’ It was in Henry the Seventh’s time, but the year I now remember not, my notes being left with Mr. William Sedgwicke, who trickt the pictures, he being then with me. In that aisle is his seat, of an antique form, and on each side the entrance, the statue of the Pedlar of about a foot in length, with pack on his back, very artificially [?artistically] cut. This was sent me from Mr. William Dugdale, of Blyth Hall, in Warwickshire, in a letter dated Jan. 29th, 1652-3, which I have since learned from others to have been most True.-Roger Twysden.”
Mr. William E. A. Axon, in “The Antiquary,” vol. xi. p. 168, gives the same version, with some slight variations, from a work entitled “New Help to Discourse,” which he says was often printed between 1619 and 1696: The dream was “doubled and tripled,” and the Pedlar stood on the bridge for two or three days; but no mention is made of his finding a second pot of money: “he found an infinite mass of money, with part of which he re-edified the church, having his statue therein to this day, cut out in stone, with his pack on his back and his dog at his heels, his memory being preserved by the same form or picture in most of the glass windows in taverns and alehouses in that town to this day.” The story is also told of a cobbler in Somersetshire (in an article on Dreams, “Saturday Review,” Dec. 28, 1878), who dreamt three nights in succession that if he went to London Bridge he would there meet with something to his advantage. For three days he walked over the bridge, when at length a stranger came up to him, and asked him why he had been walking from end to end of the bridge for these three days, offering nothing for sale nor purchasing aught. The man having told him of his strange dream, the stranger said that he too had dreamt of a lot of gold buried in a certain orchard in such a place in Somersetshire. Upon this the cobbler returned home and found the pot of gold under an apple-tree. He now sent his son to school, where he learnt Latin, and when the lad had come home for his holidays, he happened to look at the pot that had contained the gold and seeing some writing on it he said, “Father, I can show you what I have learnt at school is of some use.” He then translated the Latin inscription on the pot thus: “Look under and you will find better “ They did look under and a large quantity of gold was found. Mr. Axon gives a version of the legend in the Yorkshire dialect in “The Antiquary,” vol. xii. pp. 121-2, and there is a similar story connected with the parish church of Lambeth.381
Regarding the Norfolk tradition of the lucky and generous Pedlar, Blomfield says that the north side of the church of Swaffam (or Sopham) was certainly built by one John Chapman, who was churchwarden in 1462; but he thinks that the figures of the pedlar, etc., were only put “to set forth the name of the founder: such rebuses are frequently met with on old works.” The story is also told in Abraham de la Prynne’s Diary under date Nov. 10, 1699, as “a constant tradition” concerning a pedlar in Soffham.
Such is the close resemblance between the Turkish version of the Dream and that in the tale of Zayn al-Asnam that I am disposed to consider both as having been derived from the same source, which, however, could hardly have been the story told by El-Isháki. In Zayn al-Asnam a shaykh appears to the prince in a dream and bids him hie to Egypt, where he will find heaps of treasure; in the Turkish story the shaykh appears to the poor water-carrier three times and bids him go to Damascus for the like purpose. The prince arrives at Cairo and goes to sleep in a mosque, when the shayka again presents himself before him in a dream and tells him that he has done well in obeying him — he had only made a trial of his courage: “now return to thy capital and I will make thee wealthy,"— in the Turkish story the water-carrier also goes into a mosque at Damascus and receives a loaf of bread there from a baker. When the prince returns home the shaykh appears to him once more and bids him take a pickaxe and go to such a palace of his sire and dig in such a place, where he should find riches — in the Turkish story the water-carrier having returned to his own house, the shaykh comes to him three times more and bids him search near to where he is and he should find wealth. The discovery by Zayn al-Asnam of his father’s hidden treasure, after he had recklessly squandered all his means, bears some analogy to the well-known ballad of the “Heir of Linne,” who, when reduced to utter poverty, in obedience to his dying father’s injunction, should such be his hap, went to hang himself in the “lonely lodge” and found there concealed a store of gold.
With regard to the second part of the tale of Zayn al-Asnam — the Quest of the Ninth Image — and the Turkish version of which my friend Mr. Gibb has kindly furnished us with a translation from the mystical work of ‘Alí ‘Azíz Efendi, the Cretan, although no other version has hitherto been found,382 I have little doubt that the story is of either Indian or Persian extraction, images and pictures being abhorred by orthodox (or sunni) Muslims generally; and such also, I think, should we consider all the Arabian tales of young men becoming madly enamoured of beautiful girls from seeing their portraits — though we can readily believe that an Arab as well as a Persian or Indian youth might fall in love with a pretty maid from a mere description of her personal charms, as we are told of the Bedouin coxcomb Amarah in the Romance of Antar. If the Turkish version, which recounts the adventures of the Prince Abd es-Samed in quest of the lacking image (the tenth, not the ninth, as in the Arabian) was adapted from Zayn al-Asnam, the author has made considerable modifications in re-telling the fascinating story, and, in my opinion, it is not inferior to the Arabian version. In the Turkish, the Prince’s father appears to him in a vision of the night,383 and conducts him to the treasure-vault, where he sees the vacant pedestal and on it the paper in which his father directs him to go to Cairo and seek counsel of the Shaykh Mubarak, who would instruct him how to obtain the lacking image; and the prince is commissioned by the shaykh to bring him a spotless virgin who has never so much as longed for the pleasures of love, when he should receive the image for his reward. The shaykh gives him a mirror which should remain clear when held before such a virgin, but become dimmed when reflecting the features of another sort of girl; also a purse which should be always full of money.384 In the Arabian story the Shaykh Mubarak accompanies Zayn al-Asnam in his quest of the image to the land of Jinnistán, the King whereof it is who requires the prince to procure him a pure virgin and then he would give him the lacking image. In the Turkish version the prince Abd es-Samed proceeds on the adventure alone, and after visiting many places without success he goes to Baghdad, where by means of the Imam he at last finds the desiderated virgin, whom he conducts to Mubarak. In the Arabian story the Imam, Abu Bakr (Haji Bakr in the Turkish), is at first inimical towards the prince and the shaykh but after being propitiated by a present of money he is all complaisance, and, as in the Turkish, introduces the prince to the fallen vazír, the father of the spotless virgin. The sudden conversion of the Imam from a bitter enemy to an obliging friend is related with much humour: one day denouncing the strangers to the folk assembled in the mosque as cutpurses and brigands, and the next day withdrawing his statement, which he says had been made on the information of one of the prince’s enviers, and cautioning the people against entertaining aught but reverence for the strangers. This amusing episode is omitted in the Turkish version. In one point the tale of Zayn al-Asnam has the advantage of that of Abd es-Samed: it is much more natural, or congruous, that the King of the Genii should affect to require the chaste maiden and give the prince a magical mirror which would test her purity, and that the freed slave Mubarak should accompany the prince in his quest.
375 Nor are those which do occur all in the same order: The first in the Turkish book “Of ‘Ebú-‘l-Kásim of Basra, of the ‘Emír of Basra, and of ‘Ebú-‘l-Faskh of Wásit,” is probably similar to the first of Petis, “History of Aboulcasem of Basra.” The second “Of Fadzlu- ‘llah of Mawsil (Moser), of ‘Ebú-‘l-Hasan, and of Máhyár of Wásit,” is evidently the seventh in Petis, “History of Fadlallah, Son of Bin Ortoc, King of Moussel.” The fourth, “Of Ridzwán-Shah of China and the Shahristáni Lady,” is the second in Petis, “History of King Razvanschad and of the Princess Cheheristany.” The eleventh, “Of the Sovereign without a care and of the Vazír full of care,” is the eighth in Petis History of King Bedreddin Lolo and of his Vizier Altalmulc.” The third, “Of the Builder of Bemm with the two Vazírs of the king of Kawáshar,” the seventh, “Of the Rogue Nasr and the son of the king of Khurásán,” and the tenth, “The Three Youths, the Old Man, and the Daughter of the King,” I cannot, from these titles, recognise in Petis; while the fifth, “Farrukh-Shád, Farrukh-Rúz, and Farrukh-Náz,” may be the same as the frame story of the “Hazár ú Yek Rúz,” where the king is called Togrul-bey, his son Farrukrouz, and his daughter Farruknaz, and if this be the case, the Turkish book must differ considerably from the Persian in its plan. — Although “The Thousand and One Nights” has not been found in Persian, there exists a work in that language of which the plan is somewhat similar — but adapted from an Indian source. It is thus described by Dr. Rieu, in his Catalogue of Persian MSS. in the British Museum, vol. ii. p. 773: Tale of Shírzád, son of Gurgahan, emperor of China, and Gulshád, daughter of the vazír Farrukhzád (called the Story of the Nine Belvideres). Nine tales told by Gulshad to Shírzád, each in one of the nine belvideres of the royal palace, in order to save the forfeited life of her father.
376 A translation of this version, omitting the moral reflections interspersed, is given by Professor E. B. Cowell in the “Journal of Philology,” 1876, vol. vi. p. 193. The great Persian mystic tells another story of a Dream of Riches, which, though only remotely allied to our tale, is very curious:
The Fakir and the Hidden Treasure.
Notwithstanding the clear evidence of God’s bounty, engendering those spiritual tastes in men, philosophers and learned men, wise in their own conceit, obstinately shut their eyes to it, and look afar off for what is really close to them, so that they incur the penalty of being “branded on the nostrils” [Kurán, lxviii. 16], adjudged against unbelievers. This is illustrated by the story of the poor Fakír who prayed to God that he might be fed without being obliged to work for his food. A divine voice came to him in his sleep and directed him to go to the house of a certain scribe and take a certain writing he should find there. He did so, and on reading the writing found that it contained directions for discovering a hidden treasure. The directions were as follows: “Go outside the city to the dome which covers the tomb of the martyr, turn your back to the tomb and face towards Mecca, place an arrow in your bow, and where the arrow falls dig for the treasure.” But before the Fakír had time to commence the search the rumour of the writing and its purport had reached the King, who at once sent and took it away from the Fakír, and began to search for the treasure on his own account. After shooting many arrows and digging in all directions the King failed to find the treasure, and got weary of searching, and returned the writing to the Fakír. Then the Fakír tried what he could do, but failed to hit the spot where the treasure was buried. At last despairing of success by his own unaided efforts, he cast his care upon God, and implored the divine assistance. Then a voice from heaven came to him saying, “You were directed to fix an arrow in your bow, but not to draw your bow with all your might, as you have been doing. Shoot as gently as possible, that the arrow may fall close to you, for hidden treasure is indeed ‘nearer to you than your neck-vein’” [Kurán, l. 15]. Men overlook the spiritual treasures close to them, and for this reason it is that prophets have no honour in their own countries. —Mr. F: H. Whinfield’s Abridgment of “The Masnavi-i Ma’navi.” (London, 1887.)
377 See Mr. Gibb’s translation (London: Redway), p. 278
378 “Rem quæ contigit patrum memoriâ ut veram ita dignam relatu et sæpenumero mihi assertam ab hominibus fide dignis apponam.”
379 Thorpe says that a nearly similar legend is current at Tanslet, on the island of Alsen.
380 The common tradition is, it was in English rhyme, viz.
“Where this stood
Is another as good;”
as some will have it:
“Under me doth lie
Another much richer than I.”
381 Apropos to dreams, there is a very amusing story, entitled “Which was the Dream?” in Mr. F. H. Balfour’s “Leaves from my Chinese Scrap Book,” p. 106-7 (London: Trübner, 1887).
382 The story in the Turkish collection, “Al-Faraj ba’d al-Shiddah,” where it forms the 8th recital, is doubtless identical with our Arabian version, since in both the King of the Genie figures, which is not the case in Mr. Gibb’s story.
383 Although this version is not preceded, as in the Arabian, by the Dream of Riches, yet that incident occurs, I understand, in separate form in the work of ‘Alí Azíz.
384 Sir Richard has referred, in note 1, p. 18, to numerous different magical tests of chastity, etc., and I may here add one more, to wit, the cup which Oberon, King of the Fairies, gave to Duke Huon of Bordeaux (according to the romance which recounts the marvellous adventures of that renowned Knight), which filled with wine in the hand of any man who was out of “deadly sin” and attempted to drink out of it, but was always empty in the hands of a sinful man. Charlemagne was shown to be sinful by this test, while Duke Huon, his wife, and a companion were proved to be free from sin. — In my “Popular Tales and Fictions” the subject of inexhaustible purses etc. is treated pretty fully — they frequently figure in folk-tales, from Iceland to Ceylon, from Japan to the Hebrides.
Those scholars who declared a number of the tales in Galland’s “Mille et une Nuits” to be of his own invention, because they were not found in any of the Arabic MS. texts of The Nights preserved in European libraries, were unconsciously paying that learned and worthy man a very high compliment, since the tales in question are among the best in his work and have ever been, and probably will continue to be, among the most popular favourites. But that fact that Galland seized the first opportunity of intimating that two of those tales were not translated or inserted by himself ought to have been alone amply sufficient presumptive evidence of his good faith with regard to the others.
A friendly reviewer of my “Popular Tales and Fictions” etc. states that modern collectors of European Märchen, though “working from 100 to 150 years after the appearance of the ‘Thousand and One Nights,’ in European literature, have not found the special versions therein contained distributed widely and profusely throughout Europe,” and that my chapter on Aladdin is proof sufficient that they have not done so. The reviewer goes on to say that I cite “numerous variants, but, save one from Rome, variants of the theme, not of the version; some again, such as the Mecklenburg and Danish forms, are more primitive in tone; and all lack those effective and picturesque details which are the charm of the Arabian story, and which a borrower only interested in the story as a story might just be expected to retain.”385
But it is not contended that the folk-tales of Europe owe much, if indeed anything at all, to the “Arabian Nights,” which is not only as it now exists a comparatively modern work — Baron de Sacy has adduced good reasons for placing the date of its composition in the middle of the 9th century of the Hijra, or about 1446 A.D. but was first made known in Europe so late as the first quarter of the last century. Several of the tales, and incidents of the tales, in the “Thousand and One Nights” were current in Europe in the 12th century — imported by the Moors of Spain, and by European travellers, pilgrims, and minstrels from the East. Thus the Arabian tale of the Ebony (or Enchanted) Horse is virtually identical with the Hispano-French romance of Cleomades and Claremonde; that of Prince Kamar al Zaman is fairly represented by the romance of Peter of Provence and the Fair Maguelone. The episode of Astolphy and Joconde in Ariosto’s “Orlando Furioso” is identical with the opening story of The Nights which constitutes the frame of the collection.386 The Magnetic Rock (or rock of adamant) which figures in the adventures of Sindbád occurs in the popular German story of “Herzog Ernst von Baiern,” which is extant in a Latin poem that cannot be later than the 13th century and is probably a hundred years earlier.387 The Valley of Diamonds in the History of Sindbád is described by Marco Polo who travelled in the East in the 13th century; moreover, it had been known in Europe from the 4th century, when the story connected with it was related by Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis, who lays the scene in Scythia, while Marco Polo and the author of Sindbád’s Voyages both place it in India, where the fiction probably had its origin
When we find a popular (i.e. oral) European tale reproduce the most minute details of a story found in The Nights, we should conclude that it has been derived therefrom and within quite recent times, and such I am now disposed to think is the case of the Roman version of Aladdin given by Miss Busk under the title of “How Cajusse was Married,” notwithstandtng the circumstance that the old woman from whom it was obtained was almost wholly illiterate. A child who could read might have told the story out of Galland to his or her nurse, through whom it would afterwards assume local colour, with some modifications of the details. But stories having all the essential features of the tale of Aladdin were known throughout Europe long before Galland’s work was published, and in forms strikingly resembling other Asiatic versions, from one of which the Arabian tale must have been adapted. The incidents of the Magician and Aladdin at the Cave, and the conveying of the Princess and the vazír’s son three nights in succession to Aladdin’s house (which occurs, in modified forms, in other tales in The Nights), I consider as the work of the Arabian author. Stripped of these particulars, the elements of the tale are identical in all versions, Eastern and Western: a talisman, by means of which its possessor can command unlimited wealth, &c.; its loss and the consequent disappearance of the magnificent palace erected by supernatural agents who are subservient to the owner of the talisman, and finally its recovery together with the restoration of the palace to its original situation. The Arabian tale is singular in the circumstance of the talisman (the Lamp) being recovered by human means — by the devices of the hero himself, in fact, since in all the European and the other Asiatic forms of the story it is recovered by, as it was first obtained from, grateful animals. To my mind, this latter is the pristine form of the tale, and points to a Buddhist origin — mercy to all hying creatures being one of the leading doctrines of pure Buddhism.
The space at my disposal does not admit of the reproduction in extenso of the numerous versions or variants of Aladdin: a brief outline of their features will however serve my purpose. In the tale of Marúf the Cobbler, which concludes the Búlák and Calcutta printed texts of The Nights, we have an interesting version of Aladdin. The hero runs away from his shrewish wife and under false presences is married to a king’s daughter. He confesses his imposture to the princess, who loves him dearly, and she urges him to flee from her father’s vengeance and not to return until his death should leave the throne vacant, and having furnished him with money, he secretly quits the city at daybreak. After riding some distance, he begins to feel hungry, and seeing a peasant ploughing a field he goes up to him and asks for some food. The peasant sets off to his house for eatables and meanwhile Marúf begins to plough a furrow, when presently the ploughshare strikes against something hard, which he finds to be an iron ring. He tugs at the ring and raises a slab, which discovers a number of steps, down which he goes and comes into a cavern filled with gold and precious stones, and in a box made of a single diamond he finds a talismanic ring, on placing which on his finger a monstrous figure appears and expresses his readiness and ability to obey all his commands. In brief, by means of this genie, the hero obtains immense wealth in gold and jewels, and also rich merchandise, which enable him to return to the city in the capacity of a merchant, which he had professed himself when he married the princess. The vazír, who had from the first believed him to be an arrant impostor, lays a plot with the King to worm out of him the secret of his wealth, and succeeds so well at a private supper, when Marúf is elevated with wine, that he obtains possession of the ring, summons the genie, and causes him to carry both the King and Marúf into a far distant desert. He then compels the other ministers and the people to acknowledge him as king, and resolves to marry the princess. She temporises with him; invites him to sup with her; plies him with wine, induces him to throw the ring into a corner of the room, pretending to be afraid of the demon who is held captive in it; and when he has become insensible (in plain English, dead drunk), she seizes the ring, summons the genie, and commands him to secure the vazír and bring back her father and husband, which he does “in less than no time.” The vazír is of course put to death, and the princess takes charge of the ring for the future, alleging that neither the King nor her husband is to be trusted with the custody of such a treasure.
Another Arabian version is found — as Sir Richard Burton points out, note 1, p. 119 — in “The Fisherman’s Son,” one of the tales translated by Jonathan Scott from the Wortley Montague MS. text of The Nights, where the hero finds a magic ring inside a cock: like Aladdin, he marries the King’s daughter and has a grand palace built for him by the genii. The ring is afterwards disposed of to a Jew, in the same manner as was the Lamp to the Magician, and the palace with the princess is conveyed to a distant desert island. The fisherman’s son takes to flight. He purchases of a man who offered them for sale a dog, a cat, and a rat, which turn out to be well-disposed magicians, and they recover the ring from the Jew’s mouth while he is asleep. The ring is dropped into the sea accidentally while the animals are crossing it to rejoin their master, but is brought to the hero by a fish which he had returned to the sea out of pity in his fisherman days. The genie conveys the palace back again, and so on. — In a Mongolian version (“Siddhí Kúr”) a young merchant parts with all his wares to save a mouse, an ape, and a bear from being tortured to death by boys. One of those creatures procures for him a wishing-stone, by means of which he has a grand palace built and obtains much treasure. He foolishly exchanges his talisman with the chief of a caravan for all their gold and merchandise, and it is afterwards restored to him by the grateful and ingenious animals. — In a Tamil version — referred to by Sir Richard, p. 30, note 2 — which occurs in the “Madanakámarájankadai,” a poor wandering young prince buys a cat and a serpent; at his mother’s suggestion, he sets the serpent at liberty and receives from his father a wishing ring. He gets a city built in the jungle — or rather where the jungle was — and marries a beautiful princess. An old hag is employed by another king to procure him the princess for his wife. She wheedles herself into the confidence of the unsuspecting young lady, and learning from her the properties of the ring, induces her to borrow it of her husband for a few minutes, in order that she (the old trot) might apply it to her head to cure a severe headache. No sooner has she got possession of the ring than she disappears, and having delivered it to the other King, he “thought” of the princess, and in the twinkling of an eye she is carried through the air and set down before him. The ring is recovered by means of the cat which the hero had fostered, and so on.
Sir Richard has referred to a number of Italian versions (p. 30, note 2), which will be found epitomised in a most valuable and interesting paper, by my late friend Mr. H. C. Coote, on the sources of some of M. Galland’s Tales, in the First Part of the Folk-Lore Record for 1880, and, in conclusion, I may briefly glance at a few other European variants. Among those which not only bear a close analogy one to another but also to the Asiatic versions cited above are the following: No. 15 of M. Leger’s French collection of Slav Tales is a Bohemian version, in which the hero, Jenik, saves a dog, a cat, and a serpent from being killed. From the serpent’s father he gets an enchanted watch (evidently a modern substitute for a talismanic stone, or ring), which procures him a splendid palace and the King’s daughter for his bride. But the young lady, unlike the Princess Badr al-Badur with Aladdin, does not love Jenik, and having learned from him the secret of his great wealth, she steals the talisman and causes a palace to be built in the middle of the sea, where she goes to live, after making Jenik’s palace disappear. Jenik’s faithful dog and cat recover the talisman, which, as in the Arabian story of the Fisherman’s Son, is dropped in the sea while they are swimming back and restored by a fish. — In No. 9 of M. and so “Comes Albanais” the hero saves a serpent’s life and gets in return a wishing-stone and so on. The talisman is stolen by a rascally Jew on the night of the wedding, and the palace with the princess is transported to the distant sea-shore. The hero buys a cat and feeds it well. He and his cat arrive at the spot where the palace now stands, and the cat compels the chief of a colony of mice to steal the talisman from the Jew while he is asleep. — A popular Greek version in Hahn’s collection combines incidents found in Aladdin and in the versions in which grateful animals play prominent parts: The hero rescues a snake which some boys are about to kill and gets in reward from the snake’s father a seal-ring, which he has only to lick and a black man will present himself, ready to obey his orders. As in Aladdin, the first use he makes of the talisman is to have his mother’s cupboard filled with dainty food. Then he bids his mother “go to the King, and tell him he must give me his daughter in marriage.” After many objections, she goes to deliver her message to the King, who replies that if her son build a castle larger than his, he shall have the princess to wife. The castle is built that same night, and when the mother goes next morning to require the King’s performance of his promise, he makes a further stipulation that her son should first pave the way between the two castles with gold. This is done at once, and the King gives the hero his daughter. Here the resemblance to the Aladdin story ceases and what follows (as well as what precedes) is analogous to the other Asiatic forms. The princess has a black servant of whom she is enamoured. She steals the ring and elopes with her sable paramour to an island in the sea, where she has a castle erected by the power of the ring. The black man sleeps with the ring under his tongue, but the hero’s dog takes the cat on his back and swims to the island; and the cat contrives to get the ring and deliver it to her master, who straightway causes the castle to be removed from the island, then kills the black man, and afterwards lives happily with the princess. — In a Danish version (Prof. Grundtvig’s “Danske Folkeäventyr”) a peasant gets from an aged man a wishing-box, and henceforward lives in grand style. After his death the steward and servants cheat his son and heir, so that in ten years he is ruined and turned out of house and home. All the property he takes with him is an old sheepskin jacket, in which he finds the wishing-box, which had been, unknown to him, the cause of his father’s prosperity. When the “slave” of the box appears, the hero merely asks for a fiddle that when played upon makes everybody who hears it to dance.388 He hires himself to the King, whose daughter gives him, in jest, a written promise to marry him, in exchange for the fiddle. The King, when the hero claims the princess, insists on her keeping her promise, and they are married. Then follows the loss of the wishing-box, as in the Greek version, only in place of a black man it is a handsome cavalier who is the lady’s paramour. The recovery of the box is accomplished by very different means, and may be passed over, as belonging to another cycle of tales.389
It is perhaps hardly worth while to make a critical analysis of the tale of Aladdin, since with all its gross inconsistencies it has such a hold of the popular fancy that one would not wish it to be otherwise than it is. But it must have occurred to many readers that the author has blundered in representing the Magician as closing the Cave upon Aladdin because he refused to give up the Lamp before he had been helped out. As the lad was not aware of the properties of the Lamp, he could have had no object in retaining it for himself, while the Magician in any case was perfectly able to take it by force from him. And if he wished to do away with Aladdin, yet incur no “blood-guiltiness” (see ante, p. 52 and note), he might surely have contrived to send him down into the Cave again and then close it upon him. As to the Magician giving his ring to Aladdin, I can’t agree with Sir Richard in thinking (p. 48, note 1) that he had mistaken its powers; this seems to me quite impossible. The ring was evidently a charm against personal injury as well as a talisman to summon an all-powerful and obedient genie. It was only as a charm that the Magician placed it on Aladdin’s finger, and, as the Hindustani Version explains, he had in his rage and vexation forgot about the ring when he closed the entrance to the Cave. It appears to me also incongruous that the Lamp, which Aladdin found burning, should afterwards only require to be rubbed in order to cause the genie to appear. One should have supposed that the lighting of it would have been more natural or appropriate; and it is possible that such was in the original form of the Aladdin version before it was reduced to writing, since we find something of the kind in a Mecklenburg version given in Grimm under the title of “Des blaue Licht.” A soldier who had long served his King is at last discharged without any pay. In the course of his wanderings he comes to the hut of an old woman, who proves to be a witch, and makes him work for her in return for his board and lodging. One day she takes him to the edge of a dry well, and bids him go down and get her the Blue Light which he would find at the bottom. He consents, and she lets him down by a rope. When he has secured the Light he signals to the old witch to draw him up, and when she has pulled him within her reach, she bids him give her the Light, he refuses to do so until he is quite out of the well, upon which she lets him fall to the bottom again. After ruminating his condition for some time he bethinks him of his pipe, which is in his pocket — he may as well have a smoke if he is to perish. So he lights his pipe at the Blue Light, when instantly there appears before him a black dwarf, with a hump on his back and a feather in his cap, who demands to know what he wants, for he must obey the possessor of the Blue Light. The soldier first requires to be taken out of the well, and next the destruction of the old witch, after which he helps himself to the treasures in the hag’s cottage, and goes off to the nearest town, where he puts up at the best inn and gets himself fine clothes. Then he determines to requite the King, who had sent him away penniless, so he summons the Dwarf390 and orders him to bring the King’s daughter to his room that night, which the Dwarf does, and very early in the morning he carries her back to her own chamber in the palace. The princess tells her father that she has had a strange dream of being borne through the air during the night to an old soldier’s house. The King says that if it was not a dream, she should make a hole in her pocket and put peas into it, and by their dropping out the place where she was taken to could be easily traced. But the Dwarf when he transports her the second night discovers the trick, and strews peas through all the other streets, and the only result was the pigeons had a rare feast. Then the King bids the princess hide one of her shoes in the soldier’s room, if she is carried there again. A search is made for the shoe in every house the next day, and when it is found in the soldier’s room he runs off, but is soon caught and thrown into prison. In his haste to escape he forgot to take the Blue Light with him. He finds only a ducat in his pocket, and with this he bribes an old comrade whom he sees passing to go and fetch him a parcel he had left at the inn, and so he gets the Blue Light once more. He summons the Dwarf, who tells him to be of good cheer, for all will yet be well, only he must take the Blue Light with him when his trial comes on. He is found guilty and sentenced to be hung upon the gallows-tree. On his way to execution he asks as a last favour to be allowed to smoke, which being granted, he lights his pipe and the Dwarf appears. “Send,” says the soldier —“send all these people to the right about; as for the King, cut him into three pieces.” The Dwarf lays about him with a will, and soon makes the crowd scuttle off. The King begs hard for his life, and agrees to let the soldier have the princess for his wife and the kingdom afterwards.
Thus, it will be seen, popular tales containing all the essential elements of the story of Aladdin are spread over Europe, though hardly any of the versions was probably derived from it; and the conclusion at which I have arrived is that those elements, or incidents have been time out of mind the common property of European and Asiatic peoples, and that the tale of Aladdin may be considered as an almost unique version. The Mecklenburg legend is the only variant which has the incident of the Magician requiring the Lamp before helping the hero out of the Cave and that of the transporting of the princess from her palace to the hero’s house during the night, but these are not, I think, sufficient evidence that it was adapted from Galland.
The royal command that all shops are to be closed and everybody must keep within doors while the Princess Badr al-Badúr proceeds to the bath and Aladdin’s playing the part of Peeping Tom of Coventry occur in many Eastern stories and find a curious analogue in the Adventures of Kurroglú, the celebrated robber-poet, as translated by Dr. Alexander Chodzko in his “Popular Poetry of Persia,” printed for the Oriental Translation Fund, and copies of that work being somewhat scarce, I daresay the story will be new to most of my readers:
Listen now to the tale about the Princess Nighara, daughter of the Turkish sultan Murád. In the neighbourhood of Constantinople lived a man who was known there under the name of Belli Ahmad. One day the Princess Nighara went out for a walk through the bazárs of Constantinople. At the same time Kurroglú’s fame spread all over Turkey; everybody was telling stories about him, and all were struck with wonder. The Princess Nighara’s fond heart particularly was filled with an ardent wish of seeing this extraordinary hero, and she often thought in her mind, “O my God, when will you allow me to behold Kurroglú?” It happened that while Belli Ahmad was taking a walk in the bazárs of Istambúl, he looked and beheld on the platform of the building daroghs beating drums, whilst all the inmates of the bazár, the workmen as well as the merchants, were flying in a great hurry after having left their shops ajar. “Why are they thus running;” inquired Belli Ahmad of a Turk. “Doss thou know nothing? Then listen: Our king, Sultan Murad, is gone on a pilgrimage to Mecca. His son Burji Sultan reigns until his father’s return. He has a sister whose name is the Princess Nighara. Every Friday she goes to pray in the great mosque. The Sultan’s will is that during the passage of the princess through the bazárs, no man should remain there, but that all the shops be left open. This is the reason of this panic and flight. As soon as the princess has passed, the merchants and workmen will return to their shops again.”
Belli Ahmad said in his heart, “Thy name is Belli Ahmad, and shalt thou not see this beautiful Princess Nighara? If not, thou art unworthy of the name of Belli391 Ahmad “ He then looked to the right and left and entered stealthily into a greengrocer’s shop enclosed within a few boards. The train of the princess now appeared. First passed with their whips farashes and yassáls, who led the procession and were followed by eunuchs with canes of office (chogan) in their hands. At last appeared the Princess Nighara, surrounded by a score of waiting-women. She walked with a downcast countenance in front of them, and bending her head towards the ground said to herself, “O thou earth on which my foot is treading, I beseech thee, receive my prayer!”392 Belli Ahmad saw and heard her through the chinks of the boards behind which he sat concealed When Nighara saw the shop with vegetables she wondered why it should be the only shop enclosed with boards whilst all the other shops were standing open. She then said to her waiting-women, “What is the reason of this? Whilst goldsmiths who possess a capital of a hundred thousand tomans have left their shops open, how is it that this petty merchant of vegetables, whose poor shop used always to be open, has shut it up to-day? There must be something extraordinary in all this. Break down the enclosure, my girls, and throw the boards aside.”
Belli Ahmad heard, and his soul was on the point of making its exit. He threw himself with his face downwards as if he was prostrated by a severe illness. When her orders had been executed Nighara entered the shop. Perceiving a fellow stretched out his whole length and embracing the floor with both hands, she kicked him with her foot,393 exclaiming, “Who art thou that wallowest in the dirt?” Belli Ahmad sprang to his feet and bowing to the Princess said, “Lady, I am a stranger here. God preserve you from being in a strange land anywhere! I saw that the merchants of the bazar were beaten and driven away, and I was frightened. But what was I to do? If I should hide myself in some rich shop I might be taken for a thief. I have therefore chosen this miserable hovel, where nothing can be found except greens, onions, and mouldy biscuits. And even if there were in it a few copper pieces, the owner at his departure must have taken them away. Pardon me, Princess; my soul was at stake and I hid myself.”
Nighara inquired, “Stranger, what countryman art thou?” “I am a native of Erzerúm.” “Hast thou seen in those parts the Castle of Chamley-bill?”394 “Yes, lady, I have seen it.” “In that valley lives a man named Kurroglú: didst thou see him?” “O my Princess, I am one of his servants, I am a slave purchased with his gold.” “Canst thou delver him a letter from me?” “And wherefore not, fairest? Thou hast only to write and entrust it to me.” The Princess Nighara immediately wrote a letter to Kurroglú with her own hand. And what did she write? Here it is: “O thou who art called Kurroglú, the glory of thy name has thrown a spell over the countries of Turkey. I have heard that thou hast carried away Ayvaz from the town of Orfah. My name is Princess Nighara, Sultan Murad’s daughter. I tell thee, that thou mayest learn if thou dost not know it, that for a long time I have felt an ardent desire of seeing thee. If thou art distinguished by courage, come to Istambul and carry me away.”
And the bold Kurroglú, when he read the lady’s billet, assumed the dress of a Haji, gained access to the seraglio gardens on the presence that he was entrusted with a private message to the Princess Nighara from her father the Sultan, whom he had met on the road to Mecca, and carried the amorous young lady to his fortress of Chamley-bill. — The story, together with the scene between the princess and Kurroglú in the gardens and the palace, is, no doubt, a true picture of the “ways” of Turkish ladies of high degree in former times, and confirms much that Sir Richard has stated regarding Eastern women in his notes to The Nights and his Terminal Essay.
A VERY DIFFERENT SORT OF ALADDIN
figures in a story which in the first part bears some analogy to the celebrated Arabian tale, and which occurs in an interesting little work, now apparently forgotten, entitled “The Orientalist, or, Letters of a Rabbi (see Vol. 16, App. 4). With Notes by James Noble, Oriental Master in the Scottish Naval and Military Academy,” Edinburgh, 1831. The substance of the story is as follows (p. 118 ff.):
An aged Dervish falls ill in the house of a poor widow, who tends him with great care, with which he is so touched that he offers to take charge of her only son Abdallah. The good woman gladly consents, and the Dervish sets out accompanied by his young ward, having intimated to his mother that they must perform a journey which would last about two years. One day they arrived at a solitary place, and the Dervish said to Abdallah, “My son, we are now at the end of our journey. I shall employ my prayers to obtain from Allah that the earth shall open and make an entrance wide enough to permit thee to descend into a place where thou shalt find one of the greatest treasures that the earth contains. Hast thou courage to descend into the subterranean vault?” Abdallah swore he might depend upon his obedience and zeal. Then the Dervish lighted a small fire, into which he cast a perfume; he read and prayed for some moments, after which the earth opened, and he said to the young man, “Thou mayest now enter. Remember that it is in thy power to do me a great service, and that this is perhaps the only opportunity thou shalt ever have of testifying to me that thou art not ungrateful. Do not let thyself be dazzled by all the riches that thou shalt find there: think only of seizing upon an iron candlestick with twelve branches, which thou shalt find close to the door. That is absolutely necessary to me; come up immediately and bring it to me.”
Abdallah descended, and, neglecting the advice of the Dervish, filled his vest and sleeves with the gold and jewels which he found heaped up in the vault, whereupon the opening by which he had entered closed of itself. He had, however, sufficient presence of mind to seize the iron candlestick, and endeavoured to find some other means of escape from the vault. At length he discovers a narrow passage, which he follows until he reaches the surface of the earth, and looking about for the Dervish saw him not, but to his surprise found that he was close to his mother’s house. On showing his wealth to his mother it all suddenly vanished. But the candlestick remained. He lighted one of the branches, upon which a dervish appeared, and after turning round for an hour, he threw down an asper (about 3 farthings) and vanished. Next night he put a light in each of the branches, when twelve dervishes appeared, and after continuing their gyrations an hour, each threw down an asper and vanished.
Thus Abdallah and his mother contrived to live for a time, till at length he resolved to carry the candlestick to the Dervish, hoping to obtain from him the treasure which he had seen in the vault. He remembered his name and city, and on reaching his dwelling he found the Dervish living in a magnificent palace with fifty porters at the gate. Quoth the Dervish, when Abdallah appeared before him, “Thou art an ungrateful wretch! Hadst thou known the value of the candlestick, thou wouldst never have brought it to me. I will show thee its true use.” Then the Dervish placed a light in each branch, whereupon twelve dervishes appeared and began to whirl, but on his giving each a blow with a cane in an instant they were changed into twelve heaps of sequins, diamonds and other precious stones.
Ungrateful as Abdallah had shown himself, yet the Dervish gave him two camels laden with gold and a slave, telling him he must depart the next morning. During the night Abdallah stole the candlestick and placed it at the bottom of one of his sacks. In the morning he took his leave of the generous Dervish and set off. When about half a day’s journey from his own city he sold the slave, that there should be no witness to his former poverty and bought another in his stead. Arriving home, he carefully placed his loads of treasure in a private chamber, and then put a light in each branch of the candlestick, and when the twelve dervishes appeared, as usual, he dealt each a blow with a cane. But he had not observed that the Dervish employed his left hand, and he had naturally used his right in consequence of which the twelve dervishes each drew from under their robes a heavy club and beat him till he was nearly dead, and then vanished, as did also the treasure, the camels, the slave, and the wonder-working candlestick.
It is to be regretted that the author has not stated the sources whence he drew his stories, but that they are without exception of Eastern extraction does not admit of any doubt: some are taken from the “Panchatantra,” “Hitopadesa,” or “Anvár-i-Suhaylí,” and others are found in other Asiatic story-books. I have however not met with the foregoing elsewhere than in Noble’s little volume. The beginning of the story is near akin to that of Aladdin: for the wicked magician who pretends to take the tailor’s son under his care we have a dervish who in good faith takes charge of the son of a poor widow who had nursed him through a severe illness. The cave scene is very similar in both, only the magician performs diabolical incantations, while the dervish practices “white magic” and prays to Allah for assistance. The twelve-branched candlestick takes the place of the Wonderful Lamp. Like Aladdin, young Abdallah is shut in the cavern, though not because he refused to give up the candlestick until he was safe above ground again, but because his cupidity induced him to pocket some of the treasures which filled the cave.
There is a strong Indian — even Buddhistic — flavour in the story of Abdallah and the Dervish, and the apparition of the twelve whirling fakirs, who when struck with a cane held in the left hand fall into so many heaps of gold coin, has its analogue in the “Hitopadesa” and also in the Persian Tales of a Parrot (“Tútí Náma”). The 10th Fable of Book iii. of the “Hitopadesa’ goes thus: In the city of Ayodhya (Oude) there was a soldier named Churamani, who, being anxious for money, for a long time with pain of body worshipped the deity the jewel of whose diadem is the lunar crescent.495 Being at length purified from his sins, in his sleep he had a vision in which, through the favour of the deity, he was directed by the lord of the Yakshas396 to do as follows: ‘Early in the morning, having been shaved, thou must stand, club in hand, concealed behind the door of thy house; and the beggar whom thou seest come into the court thou wilt put to death without mercy by blows of thy staff. Instantly the beggar will become a pot full of gold, by which thou wilt be comfortable the rest of thy life.” These instructions being followed, it came to pass accordingly. But the barber who had been brought to shave him, having witnessed it all, said to himself, “O, is this the mode of gaining treasure? Why, then, may not I also do the same?” From that day forward the barber in like manner, with club in hand, day after day awaited the coming of the beggar. One day a beggar being so caught was attacked by him and killed with the stick, for which offence the barber himself was beaten by the King’s officers and died.
The same story is differently told, at greater length and with considerable humour, in Nakhshabí’s Parrot-Book, but the outline of it only can be given here: A rich merchant named Abd-el-Malik resolved to give all his substance to the poor and needy before he departed this life. At midnight an apparition stood before him in the habit of a fakír and thus addressed him: “I am the apparition of thy good fortune and the genius of thy future happiness.397 When thou, with such unbounded generosity, didst bequeath all thy wealth to the poor, I determined not to pass by thy door unnoticed, but to enrich thee with an inexhaustible treasure, suitable to the greatness of thy capacious soul. To accomplish which I will every morning in this shape appear to thee; thou shalt strike me a few blows on the head, and I shall instantly fall at thy feet, transformed into an image of gold. From this take as much as thou shalt have occasion for; and every member that shall be separated from the image shall instantly be replaced by another of the same precious metal.”398 In the morning a covetous neighbour named Hajm visited the merchant, and soon after the apparition presented itself. Abd-el-Malik at once arose and after striking it several blows on the head with a stick, it fell down and was changed into an image of gold. He took what sufficed for the day’s needs and gave the larger portion to his visitor. When Hajm the covetous returned to his own house he pondered what he had seen, and concluding it would be as easy for him to convert fakírs into gold, invited to a feast at his house all the fakírs of the province. When they had feasted to their hearts’ content, Hajm seized a heavy club and began to unmercifully belabour his guests till he broke their heads and “the crimson torrent stained the carpet of hospitality.” The cries of the fakírs soon brought the police to their assistance, and a great crowd of people gathered outside the house. Hajm was immediately haled before the magistrate, and attempted to justify his conduct by giving an account of what he had seen done in the house of Abd-el-Malik. The merchant was sent for and declared Hajm to be mad, no better proof of which could be desired than his treatment of the fakírs. So Hajm the covetous was sent forthwith to the hospital for lunatics.
385 “The Athenaeum,” April 23,1887, p. 542.
386 See M. Eugene Lévêque’s “Les Mythes et les Légendes de l’Inde et la Perse” (Paris, 1880), p. 543, where the two are printed side by side. This was pointed out more than seventy years ago by Henry Weber in his Introduction to “Tales of the East,” edited by him.
387 Also in the romance of Duke Huon of Bordeaux and the old French romance of the Chevalier Berinus. The myth was widely spread in the Middle Ages.
388 Cf. the magic horn that Duke Huon of Bordeaux received from Oberon, King of the Fairies, which caused even the Soudan of Babylon to caper about in spite of himself, and similar musical instruments in a hundred different tales, such as the old English poem of “The Friar and the Boy,” the German tale (in Grimm) of “The Jew among Thorns,” the “Pied Piper of Hamelin,” &c.
389 Not distantly related to stories of this class are those in which the hero becomes possessed of some all-bestowing object — a purse, a box, a table-cloth, a sheep, a donkey, etc. — which being stolen from him he recovers by means of a magic club that on being commended rattles on the pate and ribs of the thief and compels him to restore the treasure.
390 The Dwarf had told the soldier, on leaving him after killing the old witch, that should his services be at any other time required, he had only to light his pipe at the Blue Light and he should instantly appear before him. The tobacco-pipe must be considered as a recent and quite unnecessary addition to the legend: evidently all the power of summoning the Dwarf was in the Blue Light, since he tells the soldier when he first appears before him in the well that he must obey its lord and master.
391 Belli signifies famous, or notorious.
392 This young lady’s notion of the “function” of Prayer was, to say the least peculiar, in thus addressing her petition to the earth instead of to Heaven.
393 The gentle, amiable creature!
394 Chamley-bill was, says Dr. Chodzko, a fort built by Kurroglú, the ruins of which are still to be seen in the valley of Salmas, a district in the province of Aderbaijan.
395 i.e. Kuvera, the god of wealth.
396 The attendants of Kuvera. a Buddhistic idea.
397 That every man has his “genius” of good or evil fortune is, I think, essentially idea.
398 Such being the case, what need was there for the apparition presenting itself every morning? — but no matter!
Readers of The Nights must have observed that a large number of the tales begin with an account of a certain powerful king, whose dominions were almost boundless, whose treasury overflowed, and whose reign was a blessing to his people; but he had one all-absorbing care — he had no son. Thus in the tale of Khudadad we read that in the city of Harrán there dwelt a sultan “of illustrious lineage, a protector of the people, a lover of his lieges, a friend of mankind, and renowned for being gifted with every good quality. Allah Almighty had bestowed upon him all that his heart could desire, save the boon of a child, for though he had lovely wives within his harem-door and concubines galore [far too many, no doubt!], he had not been blessed with a son,” and so forth. This is the “regulation” opening of by far the greater number of Asiatic stories, even as it was de rigueur for the old pagan Arab poets to begin their kasídas with a lamentation for the departure of a fair one, whether real or imaginary. The Sultan of our story is constantly petitioning Heaven for the boon of a son (who among Easterns is considered as the “light of the house”), and at length there appears to him in his slumbers a comely man who bids him go on the morrow to his chief gardener and get from him a pomegranate, of which he should eat as many seeds as he pleases, after which his prayers for offspring should be granted. This remedy for barrenness is very common in Indian fictions (to which I believe Khudadad belongs), only it is usually the king’s wives who eat the seeds or fruit.399 A few parallels to the opening of our tale from Indian sources may prove somewhat interesting, both to students of popular fictions and to those individuals who are vaguely styled “general readers.”
A Kashmiri tale, entitled “The Four Princes,” translated by the Rev. J. Hinton Knowles, in the “Indian Antiquary,” 1886,400 thus begins: In days long since gone by there lived a king most clever, most holy, and most wise, who was a pattern king. His mind was always occupied with plans for the improvement of his country and people; his darbár was open to all; his ear was ever ready to listen to the petition of the humblest subject, he afforded every facility for trade; he established hospitals for the sick, inns (sará‘e) for travellers, and large schools for those who wished to learn. These and many other such things he did. Nothing was left undone that ought to be done, and nothing was done that ought not to have been done. Under such a wise, just, and beneficent ruler the people of course lived very happily. Few poor or unenlightened or wicked persons were to be found in the country. But the great and good king had not a son. This was an intense sorrow to him — the one dark cloud that now and again overshadowed his otherwise happy and glorious life. Every day he prayed earnestly to Siva to grant him an heir to sit upon the throne after him. One day Siva appeared to him in the garb of a yogi,401 and bade him ask a boon and it should be granted. “Take these four fruits,” said Siva, “and give them to your wife to eat on such a day before sunrise. Then shall your wife give birth to four sons who will be exceedingly clever and good.” The king follows these instructions and in due course his wife is delivered of four sons at one birth and thereupon dies. The rest of the story is a variant of the Tamil romance “Alakésa Kathà,”402 and of “Strike, but hear!” in Rev. Lal Behari Day’s “Folk-Tales of Bengal.”
This is how the Tamil story of The Four Good Sisters begins (“Folk-Lore in Southern India,” Part iii., by Pandit S. M. Natésa Sástri403): In the town of Tañjai there reigned a king named Hariji, who was a very good and charitable sovereign. In his reign the tiger and the bull drank out of the same pool, the serpent and the peacock amused themselves under the same tree; and thus even birds and beasts of a quarrelsome and inimical disposition lived together like sheep of the same flock. While the brute creation of the great God was thus living in friendship and happiness, need it be said that this king’s subjects led a life of peace and prosperity unknown in any other country under the canopy of heaven? But for all the peace which his subjects enjoyed, Hariji himself had no joy: his face was always drooping, his lips never moved in laughter, and he was as sad as sad could be because he had no son. — After trying in vain the distribution of charitable gifts which his ministers and the priests recommended, the king resolves to retire into the wilderness and there endeavour to propitiate Mahésvara [i.e. Siva], hoping thus to have his desire fulfilled. He appoints his ministers to order the realm during his absence, and doffing his royal robes clothes himself in the bark of trees and takes up his abode in the desert. After practising the most severe austerities for the space of three years, Siva, mounted on his bull, with his spouse Párvatí by his side, appears before the hermit, who is overjoyed at the sight of the deity. Siva bids him ask any boon and it should be granted. The royal ascetic desires to have a son. Then says Siva: “For thy long penance we grant thy request. Choose then — a son who shall always be with thee till death, but shall be the greatest fool in the whole world, or four daughters who shall live with thee for a short time, then leave thee and return before thy death, but who shall be the incarnation of learning. To thee is left to choose which thou wilt have,” and so saying, the deity gives him a mango fruit for his wife to eat, and then disappears. The king elects to have the four learned daughters, whose history is very entertaining.
Another tale in the Pandit’s collection (No. 4) informs us that once upon a time in a town named Vañjaimánagar there ruled a king named Siváchar. He was a most just king and ruled so well that no stone thrown up fell down, no crow pecked at the new-drawn milk, the lion and the bull drank water from the same pond, and peace and prosperity reigned throughout the kingdom. Notwithstanding all these blessings, care always sat on his face. His days and nights he spent in praying that God might bless him with a son. Wherever he saw pípal trees he ordered Brahmans to circumambulate them.404 Whatever medicines the doctors recommended he was ever ready to swallow, however bitter they might be. At last fortune favoured Siváchár; for what religious man fails to obtain his desire? The king in his sixtieth year had a son, and his joy knew no bounds.
In like fashion does the Persian “Sindibád Náma” begin: There reigned in India a sage and mighty monarch, the bricks of whose palace were not of stone or marble but of gold; the fuel of whose kitchen was fresh wood of aloes; who had brought under the signet of his authority the kingdoms of Rúm and Abyssinia; and to whom were alike tributary the Ethiop Maharáj and the Roman Kaysar. He was distinguished above all monarchs for his virtue clemency, and justice. But although he was the refuge of the Khalífate, he was not blessed with an heir: life and the world appeared profitless to him, because he had no fruit of the heart in the garden of his soul. One night, while reclining on his couch, sad and thoughtful, consumed with grief like a morning taper, he heaved a deep sigh upon which one of his favourite wives (he had a hundred in his harem), advancing towards him and kissing the ground, inquired the cause of his distress. He discloses it. His wife consoles him, encourages him to hope, and assures him that if he prayed, his prayers would be answered, but that at all events it was his duty to be resigned to the will of God. “Prayer is the only key that will open the door of difficulty.” The king fasted for a whole week and was assiduous in his devotions. One night he prayed with peculiar earnestness and self-abasement till morning. The companion of his couch was one of his wives, fairer than the sun and the envy of a pert. He clasped her in his embrace, exclaiming, “There is no strength, no power, save in God!” and he felt assured in his heart that his prayer was granted. In due time a son was born to him, and, eager to show his gratitude, he bestowed munificent gifts and lavished his treasures on all his subjects.
The seventh of Lal Behari Day’s “Folk-Tales of Bengal” opens as follows: Once on a time there reigned a king who had seven queens. He was very sad, for the seven queens were all barren. A holy mendicant, however, one day told the king that in a certain forest there grew a tree, on a branch of which hung seven mangoes; if the king himself plucked those mangoes and gave one to each of the queens they would all become mothers. So the king went to the forest, plucked the seven mangoes that grew upon one branch, and gave a mango to each of the queens to eat. In a short time the king’s heart was filled with joy as he heard that the seven queens were pregnant. — In Miss Stokes’ “Indian Fairy Tales,’ p. 91, Rájá Barbál receives from an ascetic 160 lichí fruits, one of which he is to give to each of his 160 wives, who would have each a son. — Similar instances occur in Steel and Temple’s “Wide Awake Stories,” from the Panjáb and Kashmír, pp. 47 and 290, and in Natésa Sástrí’s “Dravidian Nights’ Entertainments” (a translation of the Tamil romance entitled “Madanakámarájankadai”), pp. 55, 56. — Among biblical instances of women having offspring after being long barren are: Sarah, the wife of Abraham (Gen. ch. xv. 2 4, xxi. 1, 2); Rachel, the wife of Jacob (Gen. ch. xxx., 1, 22, 23); and Elisabeth, the wife of Zacharias, the high-priest, who were the parents of John the Baptist (Luke, ch. i.). Whether children be a “blessing,” notwithstanding all that has been said and sung about the exquisite joys of paternity and maternity, is perhaps doubtful, generally speaking: one thing is certain, that many an honest fellow has had too much cause to “wonder why the devil he got an heir!”405
Although no version or variant of the story of Khudadad and his Brothers has yet been found besides the one in the Turkish collection “Al-Faráj ba’d al-Shiddah,” yet the elements of which it is composed occur in many European and Asiatic tales. As we have in Galland a story of sisters who envied their cadette, so, by way of justice to the “fair sex,” we have likewise this tale of envious brothers, which is a favourite theme of popular fictions, only in the story of Khudadad, the brothers were not at first aware of the hero’s kinship to them, though they had been informed of it when they most ungratefully cut and slashed him with their swords as he lay asleep by the side of his beauteous bride the Princess of Daryabár.
Sometimes it is not a brother, or brothers, but a treacherous friend or a secret, cowardly rival, who attempts the life of the hero and claims the credit and reward for his bold achievement. Many examples must occur to readers familiar with Icelandic, Norwegian, and German folk-tales which need not here be cited. In the old French romance of the Chevalier Berinus and his gallant son Aigres de l’Aimant, the King of Loquiferne is in love with the Princess Melia, daughter of a king named Absalon, who would give her only to the prince who should bring with him two knights prepared to combat with and slay two fierce lions, or would attempt this feat himself. None of the barons of the King of Loquiferne offering themselves for the adventure, Aigres undertakes it very readily, and is accompanied by a knight named Açars, who has charge of a casket of jewels destined for the princess as a wedding-gift. Young Aigres encounters and kills the lions singlehanded, and the lily-livered and faithless Açars envies him the glory of his exploit. On their way back to Loquiferne with the Princess Melia, as they pass near a deep well Açars purposely allows the casket of jewels to fall into it and pretends to be distracted at the misfortune. But the gallant Aigres securing one end of his horse’s reins to the top of the well descends by this improvised rope, and when he dives into the water to recover the casket the rascal Açars cuts the reins and compels the princess and her maid to follow him. His triumph is brief, however, for Melia and her maid are taken from him, without his striking a blow in their defence, by a king who is in love with the princess. Açars proceeds to the court of the King of Loquiferne and tells him how the lady had been snatched out of his hands by a king who attacked him with a great army while Aigres had fled like a craven. Meanwhile Aigres contrives to get out of the well, and finds his steed and armour close by: he is fortunate in rescuing the princess and her maid from the king who had taken them from Açars, and arriving at the court of Loquiferne denounces Açars as a coward and traitor, and the princess Melia confirms his assertions; so the carpet-knight is for ever disgraced.
Another example not very generally known is found in the Urdú romance, “Gul-í Bakáwalí:” When the hero, Taj al-Malúk, the youngest son of King Zayn al-Malúk, is born, the astrologers cast his horoscope and predict that the king will lose his sight as soon as he looks upon him. In order to prevent such a calamity, the king causes the child and his mother to be placed in a house far distant from the city, where Zayn al-Malúk grows up into a handsome, courageous youth. By chance he meets his father, the king, while the latter is hunting, and the king no sooner casts his eyes on the youth than he becomes blind. The royal physicians tell him that only the Rose of Bakáwalí can restore his sight, and the four other sons of the king set out together to procure this wonderful flower. They fall victims to the wiles of a courtesan, who wins all their money at play and ultimately imprisons them in her house. In the meantime Taj al-Malúk has started on the same errand; he outwits the courtesan, obtains the liberation of his brothers, and then journeys to Jinnistán, where, by the help of a friendly demon, he plucks the Rose in the garden of the beauteous fairy Bakáwalí, and retraces his way homeward. Meeting with his four brothers on the road, he acquaints them of his success, and on their doubting the virtue of the flower, it is applied to the eyes of a blind man, and his sight is instantly restored. Upon this the brothers take the flower from Taj al-Malúk by force and hasten with it to their father. But the hero’s friends the demons build for him a splendid palace, and the fame of his wealth soon reaches the court of his father, who, with the four brothers and the ministers of state, visits him, and after a great feast Taj al-Malúk makes himself known to the king and relates the whole story of how he procured the flower that had restored his sight. The king falls upon his son’s neck and weeps tears of joy, saying, “You have restored the light of my eyes by the Rose of Bakáwalí, and by the sight of you the door of cheerfulness has been opened in my sorrowful heart. It is incumbent on me to make known this enlivening news to your mother, who has looked out for you with anxiety and I must cause her, who has been afflicted with grief at your absence, to drink the sherbet of the glad tidings of your safety.” Then the king went to Taj al-Malúk’s mother, made many apologies for his ill treatment of her, exalted her higher than she was previously, and gave her the joyful news of her son’s arrival. The remainder of the romance recounts the marvellous adventures of the hero in fairyland, whither he proceeds to rejoin Bakáwalí, and where he undergoes many strange transformations; but ultimately all is “merry as marriage beds."— Nothing is said about the punishment or pardon of the treacherous brothers, but doubtless in the original form of the story the hero acted as generously towards them as did Khudadad when his father would have put the forty brothers to death. It seems somewhat strange that after Khudadad’s brothers had killed him (as they believed) they did not take the Princess Daryabár away with them, which generally happens in stories of this kind.
399 Pandit S. M. Natésa Sástrí, in “Indian Notes and Queries,” for March, 1887, says that women swallow large numbers of an insect called pillai-puchchi (son-insect: gryllas) in the hope of bearing sons, they will also drink the water squeezed from the loin-cloth of a sanyásí [devotee] after washing it for him! — Another correspondent in the same periodical. Pandit Putlíbái K. Raghunathjé, writes that Hindu women, for the purpose of having children, especially a son, observe the fourth lunar day of every dark fortnight as a fast and break their fast only after seeing the moon, generally before 9 or 10 p.m. A dish of twenty-one small, marble-like balls of rice is prepared, in one of which is put some salt. The whole dish is then served up to the woman, and while eating it she should first lay her hands on the ball containing salt, as it is believed to be a positive sign that she will be blessed with a son. In that case she should give up eating the rest, but otherwise she should go on eating till she lays her hands on the salted ball. The Pandit adds, that the observance of this ball depends on the wish of the woman. She may observe it on only one, five, seven, eleven, or twenty-one lunar fourth days, or chaturthí. Should she altogether fail in picking out the salted ball first, she may be sure of remaining barren all her life long.
400 I am glad to see among Messrs. Trübner & Co.’s announcements of forthcoming publications Mr. Knowles’ collection of “Folk-Tales of Kashmír” in popular handy volume form.
401 A holy man whose austerities have obtained for him supernatural powers.
402 Also called “Story of the King and his Four Ministers.” There is another but wholly different Tamil romance entitled the “Alakésa Kathá,” in which a king’s daughter becomes a disembodied evil spirit, haunting during the night a particular choultry (or serai) for travellers, and if they do not answer aright to her cries she strangles them and vampyre-like sucks their blood.
403 The Pandit informs me that his “Folk-Lore in Southern India” will be completed at press and issued shortly at Bombay. (London agents, Messrs. Trübner & Co.)
404 In the “Kathá Sarit Ságara,” Book ii., ch. 14, when the King of Vatsa receives the hand of Vasavadatta, “like a beautiful shoot lately budded on the creeper of love,” she walks round the fire, keeping it to the right, on which Prof. Tawney remarks that “the practice of walking round an object of reverence, with the right hand towards it, has been exhaustively discussed by Dr. Samuel Fergusson in his paper ‘On the ceremonial turn called Desiul,’ published in the Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy, for March 1877 (vol. i., series ii., No. 12). He shows it to have existed among the ancient Romans as well as the Celts. . . . Dr. Fergusson is of opinion that this movement was a symbol of the cosmical rotation, an imitation of the apparent course of the sun in the heavens.”
405 The affection of parents for their children is often a blind instinct, and sometimes selfish, though, after all, there is doubtless truth in these lines:
“A mother’s love!
If there be one thing pure,
Where all beside is sullied,
That can endure
When all else pass away:
If there be aught
Surpassing human deed, or word, or thought,
It is a mother’s love!”
An incident in the Muhammedan version of the legend of the Seven Sleepers may have furnished a hint for this well-told tale. When the evil-minded Dekianus views the Hid Treasure, which he had covenanted with the aged man who read the Tablet for him and conducted him to the spot should be equitably divided betwixt them — when he had beheld with wonder and astonishment the incalculable riches contained in the seven chambers, he says within himself, “And must I share this with the old man?” Then he ponders and thinks, “Nay, but I will give him a goodly portion;” but finally he resolves to give him nothing — nay more, to take away his life so that there should be none on earth besides himself acquainted with the source of his wealth. In vain does the old man bid him take all the treasure and swear that he will ever preserve the secret: Dekianus smote him with his sword so that he died.
There is a tale in the Persian story-book “Shamsah wa Kahkahah” (also entitled “Mahbúb al-Kalúb”) which bears some analogy to the story of the Blind Man, Baba Abdullah. A skilful geomancer is desired by a tradesman to cast his horoscope. He does so, and informs the tradesman that he is to find a treasure. The man is incredulous, but after the operation is repeated with the same result at length becomes convinced of the accuracy of the geomancer’s calculations, locks his door, and forthwith they both begin to dig the floor. They come upon a large stone which on removal is found to have covered a well. The geomancer lowers the tradesman down it in a basket, which the latter fills with gold and silver and precious stones, and it is drawn up by the geomancer. When this has been repeated several times and the geomancer views the immense quantity of glittering treasure heaped up beside him, covetous thoughts enter his mind, and he determines to leave the tradesman to his fate at the bottom of the well, take all the wealth for himself, and live in comfort and luxury the rest of his days. Accordingly he does not again let the basket down, and the poor tradesman, suspecting his iniquitous design, calls out piteously to his perfidious friend, imploring him not to leave him there to perish, and swearing that the treasure should be equally shared as between brothers. But the covetous geomancer is deaf to his appeal, and begins to consider how the treasure might be conveyed to his own house without attracting the notice of any of the folk of the quarter, and in the midst of his cogitatious he falls asleep. Now it happened that the poor tradesman had an enemy who had long waited for an opportunity to do him a personal injury, and that very night he came to the house, and by means of a rope with a hook which he fastened to the wall he climbed on to the roof and descended into the place where the geomancer was sleeping. The man, mistaking him for the tradesman, seized the geomancer and with a sharp awl pierced his eyes, blinding him for ever. But, having thus effected his revenge as he thought, in groping his way out of the house he stumbled into the well and broke his foot. The tradesman, taking him for the geomancer, come for more gold, upbraided him for his insatiable avarice, and the man, in his turn, supposing him to have been thrown into the well by the tradesman, replied, “Be satisfied; I have punished him who cast you into this place,” but as he began to howl from the pain of his broken foot, the tradesman knew that he was not the geomancer. Next morning the tradesman’s son arrives from a long trading journey, with much gold and merchandise and many slaves. On entering his father’s house he is astounded to perceive the open well and by the side of it a vast heap of treasure and a man holding both hands to his eyes and wailing bitterly, lamenting the covetousness which had caused him the loss of his eyesight. The young man sends a slave down into the well and the first person drawn up is the tradesman, who is both surprised and overjoyed to behold his son once more, and tells him the whole story. His enemy is then taken out and is dismayed to find that he has blinded the wrong man. Both the geomancer and the tradesman’s enemy are pardoned, but the latter dies soon after, while the geomancer retires to a cave in the mountains, where every morning and evening two small loaves are thrown in to him by an unknown hand, and during the rest of his life he never ceased to repeat this distich:
If you possess one barley grain of justice,
You will never have half a grain of sorrow.
But much more closely resembling the story of Baba Adbullah is a tale in the Persian romance which recounts the imaginary adventures of Hatim Ta’í. A blind man is confined in a cage which is suspended from a branch of a tree, and constantly exclaims, “Do evil to none; if you do, evil will overtake you.” Hatim having promised to mend his condition and relieve him, he relates his history as follows:
“I am by occupation a merchant, and my name is Hamír. When I became of age my father had finished the building of this city, and he called the same after my name. Shortly after, my father departed on a sea-voyage, and left me in charge of the city. I was a free hearted and social young man, and so in a short time expended all the property left under my care by my father. Thus I became surrounded with poverty and want, and as I knew that my father had hidden treasures somewhere in the house, I resolved to discover them if possible. I searched everywhere, but found nothing, and, to complete my woe, I received the news of my father’s death, the ship in which he sailed being wrecked.
“One day as I was sauntering, mournful and dejected, through the bazár, I espied a learned man who cried out, ‘If any one has lost his money by theft or otherwise, my knowledge of the occult sciences enables me to recover the same, but on condition that I receive one fourth of the amount.’ When I heard this seasonable proclamation, I immediately approached the man of science, and stated to him my sad condition and how I had been reduced from affluence to poverty. The sage undertook to restore my wealth, and above all to discover the treasures concealed in my father’s house. I conducted him to the house and showed him every apartment, which he carefully examined one after another. At length by his art he discovered the stores we were in search of; and when I saw the gold and silver and other valuables, which exceeded calculation, the demon of fraud entered my heart, and I refused to fulfil my promise of giving a fourth of the property to the man of wisdom. I offered him only a few small pieces of silver; instead of accepting which, he stood for a few moments in silent meditation, and with a look of scorn said, ‘Do I thus receive the fourth part of your treasure which you agreed to give me? Base man, of what perjury are you guilty?’ On hearing this I became enraged, and having struck him several blows on the face, I expelled him from my house. In a few days however he returned. and so far ingratiated himself into my confidence that we became intimate friends; and night and day he displayed before my sight the various hidden treasures contained within the bowels of the earth. One day I asked him to instruct me in this wonderful science, to which he answered that no instruction was requisite. ‘Here,’ said he, ‘is a composition of surma and whoever applies the same to his eyes, to him will all the wealth of this world become visible.’406 ‘Most learned sir,’ I replied, ‘if you will anoint mine eyes with this substance I promise to share with you the half of all such treasures as I may discover.’ ‘I agree,’ said my friend; ‘meanwhile let us retire to the desert, where we shall be free from interruption.’
“We immediately set out, and when we arrived there I was surprised at seeing this cage and asked my companion whose it was. I received for answer, that it belonged to no one. In short, we both sat down at the foot of this tree, and the sage, having produced the surma from his pocket, began to apply it to my eyes. But, alas! no sooner had he applied this composition than I became totally deprived of sight. In a voice of sorrow I asked him why he had thus treated me, and he replied, ‘Such is the reward of treachery; and if you wish to recover your sight, you must for some time undergo penance in this cage. You must utter no complaint and you shall exclaim from time to time, ‘Do no evil to any one; if you do, evil will befall you.’ I entreated the sage to relieve me, saying, ‘You are a mere mortal like myself, and dare you thus torment a fellow-creature? How will you account for your deeds to the Supreme Judge?’ He answered, ‘This is the reward of your treachery.’ Seeing him inexorable, I begged of him to inform me when and how my sight was to be restored, and he told me, that a noble youth should one day visit me, and to him I was to make known my condition, and farther state, that in the desert of Himyar there is a certain herb called the Flower of Light, which the youth was to procure and apply to my eyes, by means of which my sight should be restored.”
When the man in the cage had ended his story, the magnanimous Hatim bade him be of good cheer, for he would at once endeavour to relieve him. By the aid of the fairies, who carry him through the air for the space of seven days, he arrives in the desert where the Flowers of Light shine brilliant as lamps on a festival night, diffusing the sweetest perfume far and wide; and recking naught for the serpents, scorpions, and beasts of prey which infested the place (for he had a talisman that protected him), he advances and plucks three of the largest and most brilliant flowers. Returning in the same manner as he had gone thither, he reaches the spot where the blind man Hamir is imprisoned; taking down the cage, he releases the wretched man, compresses the stalk of the flower so that the juice drops upon his sightless eyeballs, and when this has been repeated three times Hamir opens his eyes, and seeing Hatim falls prostrate at his feet with a profusion of thanks.
Although there are some differences in the details of the story of Baba Abdullah and that of Hamir, as above, yet the general similarity between them is sufficient to warrant the conclusion that if one was not adapted from the other, both must have been derived from the same source; and here we have, I think, clear evidence of the genuineness of another of the tales which Galland was believed to have invented himself.
406 Surma is a collyrium applied to the edges of the eyelids to increase the lustre of the eyes. A Persian poet, addressing the damsel of whom he is enamoured, says, “For eyes so intoxicated with love’s nectar what need is there of surma?"— This part of the story seems to be garbled; in another text of the romance of Hatim Ta’í it is only after the surma has been applied to the covetous man’s eyes that he beholds the hidden treasures.
It is curious to find this current as a folk-tale at Palena, in the Abruzzi, without any material variation except in the conclusion. My friend, Mr. E. Sidney Hartland, has favoured me with the following abstract of the Italian version, as given in vol. iii. of the “Archivio per lo studio delle Tradizioni Popolari” (Palermo, 1882), p. 222:
There was once a husband and wife. The wife says that she cannot eat anything, and only picks a few grains of rice with a large pin. Her husband asks why she eats nothing, and she answers that she does not want to eat. Meantime she goes out secretly every night, and the husband begins to have suspicions of her. One night he follows her softly and finds she goes to the burial ground, where she meets with certain female companions. They open a grave and feed on the flesh of the dead. The next morning the husband cooks rice again, and the wife picks up a few grains of it with a pin as before. The husband exclaims, “What! you enjoy the flesh of dead men, and over rice you are so finical as to eat it with a pin!” The wife is so enraged at learning that her husband knows of her doings that she goes to the water-bucket, fills a small bottle from it, and having muttered certain words over the water flings it upon him and he instantly becomes transformed into a dog. A provision merchant sees him running about, and takes and sets him on his counter. When the people come to buy provisions the dog examines the money to see if it be good, and the false coin he throws on the ground. One day a man comes to buy bacon and offers false coin. The provision merchant refuses to take it; they dispute over the matter, and it is referred to the dog, who throws the money on the ground. The man is astonished, and returning home tells his wife, who at once says that the dog is not a dog, and desires her husband to bring her the animal that she may see it. The man returns to the provision merchant and begs him to lend him the dog for a little while, and takes it home. The wife, who is a companion of the wife of him who has been changed into a dog, and understands witchcraft, fills a bottle with water, pronounces certain words over it, and throws the water upon the dog, who immediately becomes a man again, and she advises him to do to his wife as she had done to him, and imparts the secret to him. As soon as he returns home he fills the bottle with water from the bucket, says the words he had learned, and throws the water over his wife, who becomes a mare. He drives her out of the house and beats her as flax is beaten. To every one who asks why he is thrashing the mare he tells his story, and the people say, “Serve her right!” This goes on for some time. At last, when the husband sees that his wife has voided enough foam from the mouth, with another dash of water he changes her back to her proper form, and henceforward she eats whatever is set before her, obeys her husband in all things, and never goes out by night again. So they live long, happy and contented.
This version from the Abruzzi so closely resembles the story of Sidi Nu’mán that we should perhaps be justified in concluding it to have been directly derived from Galland’s Nights, in the absence of any Venetian version, which might well have been imported independently from the East, but however this may be, the story in Galland bears unquestionable internal evidence that it is a genuine Arabian narrative, having nothing peculiarly European in its details.
A somewhat similar story is quite familiar to me, but I cannot at present call to mind whether it occurs in a Persian collection or in The Nights, in which the woman going out when she thinks her husband asleep, the latter follows her to a hut at some distance which she enters, and peeping into the hut, he sees a hideous black give her a severe beating for not coming sooner, while she pleads that she could not venture to quit the house until her husband was sound asleep. The two carouse together, and by-and-by the black going outside for a purpose, the husband strikes off his head with his sword and then conceals himself close by. The woman, after waiting some time, goes out to see what is detaining her paramour, and finding his headless body, she moans over it in great sorrow, and then taking the corpse on her back carries it away and throws it into the river. Her husband hastens home before her, and so she suspects nothing. Some days after, when she refuses to do some light work because of her physical weakness, her husband can no longer control himself, and tells her that she had strength enough to carry on her back the body of her black paramour, and so on.407
The ghoul-wife of Arabian tales, who eats little or nothing at home, has her in the rákshasí of Indian fictions, who secretly devours antelopes, etc. There are many parallels in The Nights and other Asiatic story-books to the incident of Sidi Nu’man being changed back into his proper form, the most noteworthy being perhaps the case of the Second Calender in the shape of a monkey, or ape, whom the princess, an adept in white magic, at once recognizes as a man and veils her face, as does the young woman in the case of Sidi Nu’man: but while the Calender is restored to his own form, the princess, alas! perishes in her encounter with the genie who had transformed him. — In most of the Arabian tales of magical transformations of men and women into beasts the victims are ultimately restored to their natural forms, but in the Indian romance of the princess Somasekhara and Chitrasekhara, a wicked king named Ugrabáhu is permanently changed by some water taken from a magic fountain into a monkey and sold to a beggar, who compels him to perform tricks in public for his benefit. Heywood, in his “History of Women” (Book viii.), cites some curious European stories of men being transformed into donkeys by eating a certain kind of cheese,
407 The first part of the story of the Young King of the Black Isles, in The Nights, bears some analogy to this, but there the paramour is only “half-killed” and the vindictive queen transforms her husband from the waist downwards into marble.
How this entertaining story found its way into North Germany — and nowhere else in Europe, so far as I am aware — it is not easy to say, but its twin-brother seems to be orally current there, in all essential details, excepting the marvellous conclusion. For the poor ropemaker, however, a struggling weaver and for the two gentlemen, Sa’d and Sa’dí, three rich students are substituted. There does not appear (according to the version given by Thorpe in his “Yule Tide Stories,” which he entitles, not inaptly, The Three Gifts) to be any difference of opinion among the students regarding the influence of Destiny, or Fate, upon men’s fortunes: they simply give the poor weaver a hundred dollars “to assist him in his housekeeping.” The weaver hides the money in a heap of rags, unknown to his wife, who sells them to a rag-collector for a trifling sum. A year afterwards the students are again passing the house of the weaver and find him poorer than ever. He tells them of his mishap and they give him another hundred dollars warning him to be more careful with the money this time. The weaver conceals the dollars in the ash-tub, again without the cognisance of his wife, who disposes of the ashes for a few pieces of soap. At the end of the second year the students once more visit the wretched weaver, and on being informed of his loss, they throw a bit of lead at his feet, saying it’s of no use to give such a fool money, and go away in a great huff. The weaver picks up the lead and places it on the window sill. By-and-by a neighbour, who is a fisherman, comes in and asks for a bit of lead or some other heavy thing, for his net, and on receiving the lead thrown down by the students promises to give him in return the first large fish he catches. The weaver does get a fine fish, which he immediately cuts open, and finds in its stomach a “large stone,” which he lays on the window-sill, where, as it becomes dark, the stone gives forth a brighter and brighter light, “just like a candle,” and then he places it so that it illuminates the whole apartment. “That’s a cheap lamp,” quoth he to his wife: “wouldst not like to dispose of it as thou didst the two hundred dollars?” The next evening a merchant happening to ride past the weaver’s house perceives the brilliant stone, and alighting from his horse, enters and looks at it, then offers ten dollars for it, but the weaver says the stone is not for sale. “What! not even for twenty dollars?” “Not even for that.” The merchant keeps on increasing his offers till he reaches a thousand dollars, which was about half its real value, for the stone was a diamond, and which the weaver accepts, and thus he becomes the richest man in all the village. His wife, however, took credit to herself for his prosperity, often saying to him, “How well it was that I threw away the money twice, for thou hast me to thank for thy good luck!"— and here the German story ends. For the turban of the ropemaker and the kite that carried it off, with its precious lining, we have the heap of rags and the rag-collector; but the ashes exchanged for soap agrees with the Arabian story almost exactly.
The incident of the kite carrying off the poor ropemaker’s turban in which he had deposited the most part of the gold pieces that he received from the gentleman who believed that “money makes money”— an unquestionable fact, in spite of our story — is of very frequent occurrence in both Western and Eastern fictions. My readers will recollect its exact parallel in the abstract of the romance of Sir Isumbras, cited in Appendix to the preceding volumes: how the Knight, with his little son, after the soudan’s ship has sailed away with his wife, is bewildered in a forest, where they fall asleep, and in the morning at sunrise when he awakes, an eagle pounces down and carries off his scarlet mantle, in which he had tied up his scanty store of provisions together with the gold he had received from the soudan; and how many years after he found it in a bird’s nest (Supp. Nights, vol. ii. p. 260 and p. 263). — And, not to multiply examples, a similar incident occurs in the “Kathá Sarit Ságara,” Book ix. ch. 54, where a merchant named Samudrasúra is shipwrecked and contrives to reach the land, where he perceives the corpse of a man, round the loins of which is a cloth with a knot in it. On unfastening the cloth he finds in it a necklace studded with jewels. The merchant proceeds towards a city called Kalasapuri, carrying the necklace in his hand. Overpowered by the heat, he sits down in a shady place and falls asleep. The necklace is recognised by some passing policemen as that of the king’s daughter, and the merchant is at once taken before the king and accused of having stolen it. While the merchant is being examined, a kite swoops down and carries off the necklace. Presently a voice from heaven declares that the merchant is innocent, explains how the necklace came into his possession, and orders the king to dismiss him with honour. This celestial testimony in favour of the accused satisfies the king, who gives the merchant much wealth and sends him on his way. The rest of the story is as follows: “And after he had crossed the sea, he travelled with a caravan, and one day, at evening time, he reached a wood. The caravan encamped in the wood for the night, and while Samudrasúra was awake a powerful host of bandits attacked it. While the bandits were massacring the members of the caravan, Samudrasúra left his wares and fled, and climbed up a banyan-tree without being discovered. The host of bandits departed, after they had carried off all the wealth, and the merchant spent that night there, perplexed with fear and distracted with grief. In the morning he cast his eves towards the top of the tree, and saw, as fate would have it, what looked like the light of a lamp, trembling among the leaves. And in his astonishment he climbed up the tree and saw a kite’s nest, in which there was a heap of glittering priceless jewelled ornaments. He took them all out of it, and found among the ornaments that necklace which he had found in Svarnadvípa and the kite had carried off. He obtained from that nest unlimited wealth, and descending from the tree, he went off delighted, and reached in course of time his own city of Harshapúra. There the merchant Samudrasúra remained, enjoying himself to his heart’s content, with his family, free from the desire of any other wealth.”
There is nothing improbable — at all events, nothing impossible — in the History of Khwajah Hasan al-Habbál. That he should lose the two sums of money in the manner described is quite natural, and the incidents carry with them the moral: “Always take your wife into your confidence” (but the Khwajah was a Muslim), notwithstanding the great good luck which afterwards befell, and which, after all, was by mere chance. There is nothing improbable in the finding of the turban with the money intact in the bird’s nest, but that this should occur while the Khwajah’s benefactors were his guests is — well, very extraordinary indeed! As to the pot of bran — why, some little license must be allowed a story-teller, that is all that need be said! The story from beginning to end is a most charming one, and will continue to afford pleasure to old and young — to “generations yet unborn.”
I confess to entertaining a peculiar affection for this tale. It was the first of the tales of the “Arabian Nights Entertainments” which I read in the days of my “marvelling boyhood” eheu! fugaces, &c, etc. I may therefore be somewhat prejudiced in its favour, just as I still consider Scott’s “Waverley” as the best of his long series of fascinating fictions, that being the first of them which I read — as it was the first he wrote. But “All Baba and the Forty Thieves”— the “open, sesame!” “shut, sesame!"— the sackfuls of gold and silver and the bales of rich merchandise in the robbers’ cave — the avaricious brother forgetting the magical formula which would open the door and permit him to escape with his booty — his four quarters hung up in terrorem— and above all, the clever, devoted slave girl Morgiana, who in every way outwitted the crafty robber-chief — these incidents remain stamped in my memory ineffaceably: like the initials of lovers’ names cut into the bark of a growing tree, which, so far from disappearing, become larger by the lapse of time. To me this delightful tale will ever be, as Hafiz sings of something, “freshly fresh and newly new.” I care not much though it never be found in an Arabic or any other Oriental dress — but that it is of Asiatic invention is self-evident; there is, in my poor opinion nothing to excel it, if indeed to equal it, for intense interest and graphic narrative power in all The Nights proper.
Sir Richard Burton has remarked, in note 1, p. 219, that Mr. Coote could only find in the south of Europe, or in the Levant, analogues of two of the incidents of this tale, yet one of those may be accepted as proof of its Eastern extraction, namely, the Cyprian story of “Three Eyes,” where the ogre attempts to rescue his wife with a party of blacks concealed in bales: “The King’s jester went downstairs, in order to open the bales and takes something out of them. Directly he approached one of the sacks, the black man answered from the inside,‘Is it time, master?’ In the same manner he tried all the sacks, and then went upstairs and told them that the sacks were full of black men. Directly the King’s bride heard this, she made the jester and the company go downstairs. They take the executioner with them, and go to the first sack. The black man says from the inside, ‘Is it time?’ ‘Yes,’ say they to him, and directly he came out they cut his head off. In the same manner they go to the other sacks and kill the other black men.”408
The first part of the tale of Ali Baba — ending with the death of his greedy brother — is current in North Germany, to this effect:
A poor woodcutter, about to fell a beech at the back of the scattered ruins of the castle of Dummburg, seeing a monk approach slowly through the forest, hid himself behind a tree. The monk passed by and went among the rocks. The woodcutter stole cautiously after him and saw that he stopped at a small door which had never been discovered by the villagers. The monk knocks gently and cries, “Little door, open!” and the door springs open. He also cries, “Little door, shut!” and the door is closed. The woodcutter carefully observes the place, and next Sunday goes secretly and obtains access to the vault by the same means as that employed by the monk. He finds in it “large open vessels and sacks full of old dollars and fine guilders, together with heavy gold pieces, caskets filled with jewels and pearls, costly shrines and images of saints, which lay about or stood on tables of silver in corners of the vault.” He takes but a small quantity of the coin, and as he is quitting the vault a voice cries, “Come again!” First giving to the church, for behoof of the poor, a tenth of what he had taken, he goes to the town and buys clothes for his wife and children, giving out to his neighbours that he had found an old dollar and a few guilders under the roots of a tree that he had felled. Next Sunday he again visits the vault, this time supplying himself somewhat more liberally from the hoard, but still with moderation and discretion, and “Come again!” cries a voice as he is leaving. He now gives to the church two tenths, and resolves to bury the rest of the money he had taken in his cellar. But he can’t resist a desire to first measure the gold, for he could not count it. So he borrows for this purpose a corn-measure of a neighbour — a very rich but penurious man, who starved himself, hoarded up corn, cheated the labourer of his hire, robbed the widow and the orphan, and lent money on pledges. Now the measure had some cracks in the bottom, through which the miser shook some grains of corn into his own heap when selling it to the poor labourer, and into these cracks two or three small coins lodged, which the miser was not slow to discover. He goes to the woodcutter and asks him what it was he had been measuring. “Pine-cones and beans. But the miser holds up the coins he had found in the cracks of the measure, and threatens to inform upon him and have him put to the question if he will not disclose to him the secret of his money. So the woodcutter is constrained to tell him the whole story and much against his will, but not before he had made the miser promise that he would give one-tenth to the church, he conducts him to the vault. The miser enters, with a number of sacks, the woodcutter waiting outside to receive them when filled with treasure. But while the miser is gloating over the enormous wealth before him — even “wealth beyond the dreams of avarice”— a great black dog comes and lays himself down on the sacks. Terrified at the flaming eyes of the dog, the miser crept towards the door but in his fear forgot the proper words, and instead of saying, “Little door, open!” he cried!, “Little door, shut!” The woodcutter, having waited a long time, approached the door, and knocking gently and crying “Little door, open!” the door sprang open and he entered. There lay the bleeding body of his wicked neighbour, stretched on his sacks, but the vessels of gold and silver, and diamonds and pearls, sank deeper and deeper into the earth before his eyes, till all had completely vanished.409
The resemblance which this North German tale bears to the first part of “All Baba” is striking, and is certainly not merely fortuitous; the fundamental outline of the latter is readily recognisable in the legend of The Dummburg, notwithstanding differences in the details. In both the hero is a poor woodcutter, or faggot-maker; for the band of robbers a monk is substituted in the German legend, and for the “open, sesame” and “shut, sesame,” we have “little door, shut,” and “little door, open.” In both the borrowing of a corn-measure is the cause of the secret being revealed — in the one case, to Kasim, the greedy brother of Ali Baba and in the other, to a miserly old hunks; the fate of the latter and the disappearance of all the treasure are essentially German touches. The subsequent incidents of the tale of Ali Baba, in which the main interest of the narrative is concentrated; — Ali Baba’s carrying off the four quarters of his brother’s body and having them sewed together, the artifices by which the slave-girl checkmates the robber-chief and his followers in their attempts to discover the man who had learned the secret of the treasure-cave — her marking all the doors in the street and her pouring boiling oil on the robbers concealed in the oil-skins in the courtyard; — these incidents seem to have been adapted, or imitated, from some version of the world-wide story of the Robbery of the Royal Treasury, as told by Herodotus, of Rhampsinitus, King of Egypt, in which the hero performs a series of similar exploits to recover the headless body of his brother and at the same time escape detection. Moreover, the conclusion of the tale of Ali Baba, where we are told he lived in comfort and happiness on the wealth concealed in the robbers’ cave, and “in after days he showed the hoard to his sons and his sons’ sons, and taught them how the door could be caused to open and shut”— this is near akin to the beginning of Herodotus’ legend of the treasury: the architect who built it left a stone loose, yet so nicely adjusted that it could not be discovered by any one not in the secret, by removing which he gained access to the royal stores of gold, and having taken what he wanted replaced the stone as before; on his deathbed he revealed the secret to his two sons as a legacy for their future maintenance. The discovery of Ali Baba’s being possessed of much money from some coins adhering to the bottom of the corn-measure is an incident of very frequent occurrence in popular fictions; for instance, in the Icelandic story of the Magic Queen that ground out gold or whatever its possessor desired (Powell and Magnusson’s collection, second series); in the Indian tale of the Six Brothers (Vernieux’s collection) and its Irish analogue “Little Fairly;” in the modern Greek popular tale of the Man with Three Grapes (Le Grand’s French collection), and a host of other tales, both Western and Eastern. The fate of Ali Baba’s rich and avaricious brother, envious of his good luck, finds also many parallels —mutatis mutandis— as in the story of the Magic Queen, already referred to, and the Mongolian tale of the poor man and the Dakinis, the 14th relation of Siddhí Kúr. Morgiana’s counter-device of marking all the doors in the street, so that her master’s house should not be recognised, often occurs, in different forms: in my work on Popular Tales and Fictions, vol. ii. pp. 164, 165, a number of examples are cited. The pretended merchant’s objecting to eat meat cooked with salt, which fortunately aroused Morgiana’s suspicions of his real character-for robber and murderer as he was, he would not be “false to his salt”410— recalls an anecdote related by D’Herbelot, which may find a place here, in conclusion: The famous robber Yacúb bin Layth, afterwards the founder of a dynasty of Persian monarchs called Soffarides, in one of his expeditions broke into the royal palace and having collected a large quantity of plunder, was on the point of carrying it off when his foot struck against something which made him stumble. Supposing it not to be an article of value, he put it to his mouth, the better to distinguish it. From the taste he found it was a lump of salt, the symbol and pledge of hospitality, on which he was so touched that he retired immediately without carrying away any part of his booty. The next morning the greatest astonishment was caused throughout the palace on the discovery of the valuables packed up and ready for removal. Yacub was arrested and brought before the prince, to whom he gave a faithful account of the whole affair, and by this means so ingratiated himself with his sovereign that he employed him as a man of courage and ability in many arduous enterprises, in which he was so successful as to be raised to the command of the royal troops, whose confidence in and affection for their general induced them on the prince’s death to prefer his interest to that of the heir to the throne, from whence he afterwards spread his extensive conquests.
* * * * * * * * * *
Since the foregoing was in type I discovered that I had overlooked another German version, in Grimm, which preserves some features of the Arabian tale omitted in the legend of The Dummburg:
There were two brothers, one rich, the other poor. The poor brother, one day wheeling a barrow through the forest, had just come to a naked looking mountain, when he saw twelve great wild men approaching, and he hid himself in a tree, believing them to be robbers. “Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, open!” they cried, and the mountain opened, and they went in. Presently they came out, carrying heavy sacks. “Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, shut thyself!” they cried; and the mountain closed and they went away. The poor man went up then and cried. “Semsi mountain Semsi mountain, open!” the mountain opens, he goes in, finds a cavern full of gold, silver, and jewels, fills his pockets with gold only, and coming out cries, “Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, shut thyself!” He returns home and lives happily till his gold is exhausted. Then “he went to his brother to borrow a measure that held a bushel, and brought himself some more.” This he does again, and this time the rich brother smears the inside of the bushel with pitch and when he gets it back finds a gold coin sticking to it, so he taxes his poor brother with having treasure and learns the secret. Off he drives, resolved to bring back, not gold, but jewels. He gets in by saying, “Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, open!” He loads himself with precious stones, but has forgotten the word, and cries only, “Simeli mountain, Simeli mountain, open!” The robbers return and charge him with having twice stolen from them. He vainly protests, “It was not I “ and they cut his head off.
Here the twelve wild men represent the forty robbers, and, as in Ali Baba, it is the hero’s brother who falls a victim to his own cupidity. In the Arabian tale the hero climbs up into a tree when he sees the robbers approach, in The Dummburg he hides himself behind a tree to watch the proceedings of the monk; and in Grimm’s version he hides in a tree. On this last-cited story W. Grimm has the following note: “It is remarkable that this story, which is told in the province of Munster, is told also in the Hartz, about The Dummburg, and closely resembles the Eastern story of ‘The Forty Thieves,’ where even the rock Sesam, which falls open at the words Semsi and Semeli, recalls the name of the mountain in the German saga. This name for a mountain is, according to a document in Pistorius (3, 642), very ancient in Germany. A mountain in Grabfeld is called Similes and in a Swiss song a Simeliberg is again mentioned. This makes us think of the Swiss word ‘Sine!,’ for ‘sinbel,’ round. In Meier, No. 53, we find ‘Open, Simson.’ In Prohle’s ‘Marcher fur die Jugend,’ No. 30, where the story is amplified, it is Simsimseliger Mountain. There is also a Polish story which is very like it.” Dr. Grimm is mistaken in saying that in the Arabian tale the “rock Sesam” falls open at the words Semsi and Semeli: even in his own version, as the brother finds to his cost, the word Simeli does not open the rock. In Ali Baba the word is “Simsim” (Fr. Sesame), a species of grain, which the brother having forgot, he cries out “Barley.” The “Open, Simson” in Meier’s version and the “Semsi” in Grimm’s story are evidently corruptions of “Simsim,” or “Samsam,” and seem to show that the story did not become current in Germany through Galland’s work.
Dr. N. B. Dennys, in his “Folk-Lore of China, and its Affinities with that of the Aryan and Semitic Races,” p. 134, cites a legend of the cave Kwang-sio-foo in Kiang-si, which reflects part of the tale of Ali Baba: There was in the neighbourhood a poor herdsman named Chang, his sole surviving relative being a grandmother with whom he lived. One day, happening to pass near the cave, he overheard some one using the following words: “Shih mun kai, Kwai Ku hsen shêng lai,” Stone door, open; Mr. Kwai Ku is coming. Upon this the door of the cave opened and the speaker entered. Having remained there for some time he came out, and saying, “Stone door, close; Mr. Kwai Ku is going,” the door again opened and the visitor departed. Chang’s curiosity was naturally excited, and having several times heard the formula repeated, he waited one day until the genie (for such he was) had taken his departure and essayed to obtain an entrance. To his great delight the door yielded, and having gone inside he found himself in a romantic grotto of immense extent. Nothing however in the shape of treasure met his eye, so having fully explored the place he returned to the door, which shut at his bidding, and went home. Upon telling his grandmother of his adventure she expressed a strong wish to see the wonderful cavern; and thither they accordingly went together the next day. Wandering about in admiration of the scenery, they became separated, and Chang at length, supposing that his grandmother had left, passed out of the door and ordered it to shut. Reaching home, he found to his dismay that she had not yet arrived. She must of course have been locked up in the cave, so back he sped and before long was using the magic sentence to obtain access. But alas! the talisman had failed, and poor Chang fell into an agony of apprehension as he reflected that his grandmother would either be starved to death or killed by the enraged genie. While in this perplexity the genie appeared and asked him what was amiss. Chang frankly told him the truth and implored him to open the door. This the genie refused to do, but told him that his grandmother’s disappearance was a matter of fate. The cave demanded a victim. Had it been a male, every succeeding generation of his family would have seen one of its members arrive at princely rank. In the case of a woman her descendants would in a similar way possess power over demons. Somewhat comforted to know that he was not exactly responsible for his grandmother’s death, Chang returned home and in process of time married. His first son duly became Chang tien shih (Chang, the Master of Heaven), who about A.D. 25 was the first holder of an office which has existed uninterruptedly to the present day.
408 On the Sources of some of Galland’s Tales. By Henry Charles Coote, F.S.A. “Folklore Record,” 1881, vol. iii. Part 2, p. 186.
409 See Thorpe’s “Yule Tide Stories,” Bohn’s ed., pp. 481-486.-Thorpe says that “for many years the Dummburg was the abode of robbers, who slew the passing travellers and merchants whom they perceived on the road from Leipsig to Brunswick, and heaped together the treasures of the plundered churches and the surrounding country, which they concealed in subterranean caverns.” The peasantry would therefore regard the spot with superstitious awe, and once such a tale as that of Ali Baba got amongst them, the robbers’ haunt in their neighbourhood would soon become the scene of the poor woodcutter’s adventure.
410 A Persian poet says:
“He who violates the rights of the bread and salt
Breaks, for his wretched self, head and neck.”
Precocious Children. — See note at end of the Tale, p. 256. — In the (apocryphal) Arabic Gospel of the Saviour’s Infancy is the following passage:
“Now in the month of Adar, Jesus, after the manner of a King, assembled the boys together. They spread their clothes on the ground and he sat down upon them. Then they put on his head a crown made of flowers, and like chamber-servants stood in his presence, on the right and on the left, as if he was a king. And whoever passed by that way was forcibly dragged by the boys, saying, ‘Come hither and adore the king; then go away.’”
A striking parallel to this is found in the beginning of the Mongolian Tales of Ardshi Bordshi — i.e., the celebrated Indian monarch, Rájá Bhoja, as given in Miss Busk’s “Sagas from the Far East,” p. 252.
“Long ages ago there lived a mighty king called Ardshi Bordshi.411 In the neighbourhood of his residence was a hill where the boys who were tending the calves were wont to pass the time by running up and down. But they had also another custom, and it was that whichever of them won the race was king for the day — an ordinary game enough, only that when it was played in this place the Boy-King thus constituted was at once endowed with such extraordinary importance and majesty that everyone was constrained to treat him as a real king. He had not only ministers and dignitaries among his playfellows, who prostrated themselves before him, and fulfilled all his behests, but whoever passed that way could not choose but pay him homage also.”412
This is followed by an analogous story to that of Ah Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad, under the title of “The False Friend,” in which a merchant on a trading journey entrusts a friend with a valuable jewel to give to his wife on his return home, and the friend retaining it for his own use suborns two men to bear witness that they saw him deliver it to the merchant’s wife, so the King dismisses the suit. But the Boy-King undertakes to try the case de novo; causes the two witnesses to be confined in separate places, each with a piece of clay which he is required to make into the form of the jewel, and the models are found to be different one from the other, and both from the shape of the jewel as described by the false friend. A similar story occurs in several Indian collections, with a Kází instead of the Boy-King.
A curious instance of precocity is related in the Third Book of the “Masnavi” (see ante p. 365), of which Mr. E. H. Whinfield gives an outline in his admirable and most useful abridgment of that work: The boys wished to obtain a holiday, and the sharpest of them suggested that when the master came into school each boy should condole with him on his alleged sickly appearance. Accordingly, when he entered, one said, “O master, how pale you are looking! and another said, You are looking very ill to-day, and so on. The master at first answered that there was nothing the matter with him, but as one boy after another continued assuring him that he looked very ill, he was at length deluded into imagining that he must really be ill. So he returned to his house, making the boys follow him there, and told his wife that he was not well, bidding her mark how pale he was. His wife assured him he was not looking pale, and offered to convince him by bringing a mirror, but he refused to look at it, and took to his bed. He then ordered the boys to begin their lessons; but they assured him that the noise made his head ache, and he believed them, and dismissed them to their homes, to the annoyance of their mothers.
Another example of juvenile cleverness is found in a Persian collection of anecdotes entitled “Latá‘yif At-Taw’áyif,” by ‘Alí ibn Husain Al-Va’iz Al-Káshifí: One day Núrshírván saw in a dream that he was drinking with a frog out of the same cup. When he awoke he told this dream to his vazír, but he knew not the interpretation of it. The king grew angry and said, “How long have I maintained thee, that if any difficulty should arise thou mightest unloose the knot of it, and if any matter weighed on my heart thou shouldst lighten it? Now I give thee three days, that thou mayest find out the meaning of this dream, and remove the trouble of my mind; and if, within that space, thou art not successful, I will kill thee.” The vazír went from the presence of Núrshírván confounded and much in trouble. He gathered together all the sages and interpreters of dreams, and told the matter to them, but they were unable to explain it; and the vazír resigned his soul to death. But this story was told in the city, and on the third day he heard that there was a mountain, ten farsangs distant from the city, in which was a cave, and in this cave a sage who had chosen the path of seclusion, and lived apart from mankind, and had turned his face to the wall. The vazír set out for this place of retirement, saying to himself, “Perhaps he will be able to lay a plaster on my wound, and relieve it from the throbbings of care.” So he mounted his horse, and went to find the sage. At the moment he arrived at the hill a company of boys were playing together. One of them cried out with a loud voice, “The vazír is running everywhere in search of an interpreter, and all avails him nothing; now the interpretation of the dream is with me, and the truth of it is clear to me.” When these words reached the ears of the vazír he drew in the reins, and calling the boy to him asked him, “What is thy name? He replied, “Buzurjmibr.” The vazír said “All the sages and interpreters have failed in loosing the knot of this difficulty — how dost thou, so young in years, pretend to be able to do it? He replied, “All the world is not given to every one.” The vazír said, “If thou speakest truth, explain.” Said the boy “Take me to the monarch, that I may there unloose the knot of this difficulty.” The vazír said, “If thou shouldst fail, what then will come of it?” The boy replied, “I will give up my own blood to the king, that they may slay me instead of thee.” The vazír took the boy with him, returned, and told the whole matter to the king and produced the boy in his presence. The king was very angry, and said, “All the wise men and dream interpreters of the court were unable to satisfy me, and thou bringest me a child, and expectest that he shall loose the knot of the difficulty.” The vazír bowed his head. And Buzurjmihr said, “Look not upon his youth, but see whether he is able to expound the mystery or not.” The king then said, “Speak.” He replied, “I cannot speak in this multitude.” So those who were present retired, and the monarch and the youth were left alone. Then said the youth, “A stranger has found entrance into thy seraglio, and is dishonouring thee, along with a girl who is one of thy concubines.” The king was much moved at this interpretation, and looked from one of the wise men to another, and at length said to the boy, “This is a serious matter thou hast asserted; how shall this matter be proceeded in, and in what way fully known?” The boy replied, “Command that every beautiful woman in thy seraglio pass before thee unveiled, that the truth of this matter may be made apparent.” The king ordered them to pass before him as the boy had said, and considered the face of each one attentively. Among them came a young girl extremely beautiful, whom the king much regarded. When she came opposite to him, a shuddering as of palsy, fell upon her, and she shook from head to foot, so that she was hardly able to stand. The king called her to him, and threatening her greatly, bade her speak the truth. She confessed that she loved a handsome slave and had privately introduced him into the seraglio. The king ordered them both to be impaled, and turning to the rewarding of Buzurjmihr, he made him the object of his special bounty.
This story has been imported into the “History of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome,” the European form of the Book of Sindibád, where the prince discovers to his father the paramour of his step-mother, the empress, in the person of a young man disguised as one of her maid-servants, and its presence in the work is quite inconsistent with the lady’s violent lust after the young prince. There is a similar tale in the Hebrew version, “Mishlé Sandabar,” but the disguised youth is not detected. Vatsyayana, in his “Káma Sutra” (or Aphorisms of Love), speaks of it as a common practice in India thus to smuggle men into the women’s apartments in female attire. In the Introduction to the “Kathá Sarit Ságara,” Vararuchi relates how King Yogananda saw his queen leaning out of a window and asking questions of a Báhman guest that was looking up. That trivial circumstance threw the king into a passion, and he gave orders that the Bráhman should be put to death) for jealousy interferes with discernment. Then as that Bráhman was being led off to the place of execution in order that he should be put to death, a fish in the market laughed aloud, though it was dead. The king hearing it immediately prohibited for the present the execution of the Bráhman, and asked Vararuchi the reason why the fish laughed. He desired time to think over the matter and learned from the conversation of a rákshasí with her children that the fish said to himself, “All the king’s wives are dissolute, for in every part of his harem there are men dressed up as women, and nevertheless while those escape, an innocent Brahmán is to be put to death;” and this tickled the fish so that he laughed. Mr. Tawney says that Dr. Liebrecht, in “Orient und Occident,” vol. i. p. 341, compares this story with one in the old French romance of Merlin. There Merlin laughs because the wife of Julius Cæsar had twelve young men disguised as ladies-in-waiting. Benfey, in a note on Liebrecht’s article, compares with the story of Merlin one by the Countess d’Aulnois, No. 36 of Basile’s “Pentamerone,” Straparola, iv. 1, and a story in the “Suka Saptati.” In this some cooked fish laugh so that the whole town hears them; the reason being the same as in the above story and in that of Merlin. In a Kashmírí version, which has several other incidents and bears a close resemblance to No. 4 of M. Legrand’s “Recueil de Contes Populaires Grecs,” to the story of “The Clever Girl” in Professor T. F. Crane’s “Italian Popular Tales,” and to a fable in the Talmud, the king requires his vazír to inform him within six months why the fish laughed in presence of the queen. The vazír sends his son abroad until the king’s anger had somewhat cooled — for himself he expects nothing but death. The vazír’s son learns from the clever daughter of a farmer that the laughing of the fish indicates that there is a man in the palace unknown to the king. He hastens home and tells his father the secret, who at once communicates it to the king. All the female attendants in the palace are called together and ordered to jump across the mouth of a pit which he has caused to be dug: the man would betray his sex in the trial. Only one person succeeded and he was found to be a man.413 Thus was the queen satisfied, and the faithful old vazír saved, and his son, of course, married the farmer’s clever daughter.
411 Miss Busk reproduces the proper names as they are transliterated in Jülg’s German version of those Kalmuk and Mongolian Tales — from which a considerable portion of her book was rendered — thus: Ardschi Bordschi, Rakschasas, etc., but drollest of all is “Ramajana” (Ramayana), which is right in German but not in English.
412 The apocryphal gospels and the Christian hagiology are largely indebted to Buddhism, e.g., the Descent into Hell, of which there is such a graphic account in the Gospel of Nicodemus, seems to have been adapted from ancient Buddhist legends, now embodied in the opening chapters of a work entitled, “Káranda-vyúha,” which contain a description of the Boddhisattva Avalokiteswara’s descent into the hell Avíchi, to deliver the souls there held captive by Yama, the lord of the lower world. (See a paper by Professor E. R. Cowell, LL.D., in the “Journal of Philology,” 1876, vol. vi. pp. 222-231.) This legend also exists in Telugu, under the title of “Sánanda Charitra,” of which the outline is given in Taylor’s “Catalogue Raisonné of Oriental MSS. in the Government Library, Madras,” vol. ii. p. 643: Sánanda, the son of Purna Vitta and Bhadra Datta, heard from munis accounts of the pains of the wicked, and wishing to see for himself, went to Yama-puri. His coming had been announced by Nárada. Yama showed the stranger the different lots of mankind in a future state, in details. Sánanda was touched with compassion for the miseries that he witnessed, and by the use of the five and six lettered spells he delivered those imprisoned souls and took them with him to Kailasa. Yama went to Siva and complained, but Siva civilly dismissed the appeal. — Under the title of “The Harrowing of Hell,” the apocryphal Christian legend was the theme of a Miracle Play in England during the Middle Ages, and indeed it seems to have been, in different forms, a popular favourite throughout Europe. Thus in a German tale Strong Hans goes to the Devil in hell and wants to serve him, and sees the pains in which souls are imprisoned standing beside the fire. Full of pity, he lifts up the lids and sets the souls free, on which the Devil at once drives him away. A somewhat similar notion occurs in an Icelandic tale of the Sin Sacks, in Powell and Magnússon’s collection (second series, p. 48). And in T. Crofton Croker’s “Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland,” ed. 1828, Part. ii. p. 30 ff., we read of Soul Cages at the bottom of the sea, containing the spirits of drowned sailors, which the bold hero Jack Docherty set free.
413 The Rabbins relate that among the Queen of Sheba’s tests of Solomon’s sagacity she brought before him a number of boys and girls apparelled all alike, and desired him to distinguish those of one sex from those of the other, as they stood in his presence. Solomon caused a large basin of water to be fetched in, and ordered them all to wash their hands. By this expedient he discovered the boys from the girls, since the former washed merely their hands, while the latter washed also their arms.
How, in the name of all that is wonderful — how has it happened that this ever-delightful tale is not found in any text of The Nights? And how could it be supposed for a moment that Galland was capable of conceiving such a tale — redolent, as it is, of the East and of Fairyland? Not that Fairyland where “True Thomas,” otherwise ycleped Thomas the Rymer, otherwise Thomas of Erceldoune, passed several years in the bewitching society of the Fairy Queen, years which appeared to him as only so many moments: but Eastern Fairyland, with all its enchanting scenes; where priceless gems are as plentiful as “autumnal leaves which strong the brooks in Vallombrosa;” where, in the royal banqueting hall, illuminated with hundreds of wax candles, in candelabra of the finest amber and the purest crystal are bands of charming damsels, fairest of form and feature, who play on sweet- toned instruments which discourse heart-ravishing strains of melody; — meanwhile the beauteous Perí Bánú is seated on a throne adorned with diamonds and rubies and emeralds, and pearls and other gems, and by her side is the thrice-happy Prince Ahmad, who feels himself amply indemnified for the loss of his fair cousin Princess Núr-en-Nihár. Auspicious was that day when he shot the arrow which the enamoured Perí Bánú caused to be wafted through the air much farther than arm of flesh could ever send the feathered messenger! And when the Prince feels a natural longing to visit his father in the land of mortals from time to time, behold the splendid cavalcade issue from the portals of the fairy palace — the gallant jinn-born cavaliers, mounted on superb steeds with gorgeous housings, who accompany him to his father’s capital. But alas! the brightest sky is sooner or later overcast — human felicity is — etc., etc. The old king’s mind is poisoned against his noble son by the whisperings of a malignant and envious minister — a snake in the grass — a fly in the ointment of Prince Ahmad’s beatitude! And to think of the old witch gaining access to the fairy palace — it was nothing less than an atrocity! And the tasks which she induces the king to set Prince Ahmad to perform — but they are all accomplished for him by his fairy bride. The only thing to regret — the fatal blemish in the tale — is the slaughter of the old king. Shabbar did right well to dash into the smallest pieces the wicked vazír and the foul witch and all who aided and abetted them, but “to kill a king!” and a well-meaning if soft-headed king, who was, like many better men, led astray by evil counsellors!
Having thus blown off the steam — I mean to say, having thus ventilated the enthusiasm engendered by again reading the tale of Prince Ahmad and the Perí Bánú, I am now in a fitter frame of mind for the business of examining some versions and variants of it, for though the tale has not yet been found in Arabic, it is known from the banks of Ganga to the snow-clad hills and vales of Iceland — that strange land whose heart is full of the fiercest fires. This tale, like that of Zayn al-Asnám, comprises two distinct stories, which have no necessary connection, to wit, (1) the adventures of the Three Princes, each in quest of the rarest treasure, wherewith to win the beautiful Princess Núr-en-Nihár; and (2) the subsequent history of the third Prince and the Perí Bánú. The oldest known form of the story concludes with the recovery of the lady — not from death’s door, but from a giant who had carried her off, and the rival claims of the heroes to the hand of the lady are left undecided: certainly a most unsatisfactory ending, though it must be confessed the case was, as the priest found that of Paddy and the stolen pullet, somewhat “abstruse.” In the “Vetálapanchavinsati,” or Twenty-five Tales of a Vampyre (concerning which collection see Appendix to the preceding volumes, p. 230), the fifth recital is to this purpose:
There was a Bráhman in Ajjayini (Oojein) whose name was Harisvamin; he had a son named Devasvamin and a daughter far famed for her wondrous beauty and rightly called Somaprabha (Moonlight). When the maiden had attained marriageable age, she declared to her parents that she was only to be married to a man who possessed heroism, or knowledge, or magic power. It happened soon after this that Harisvamin was sent by the king on state business to the Dekkan, and while there a young Bráhman, who had heard the report of Somaprabha’s beauty, came to him as a suitor for the hand of his daughter. Harisvamin informed him of the qualifications which her husband must possess, and the Bráhman answered that he was endowed with magic power, and having shown this to the father’s satisfaction, he promised to give him his daughter on the seventh day from that time. In like manner, at home, the son and the wife of Harisvamin had, unknown to each other, promised Somaprabha to a young man who was skilled in the use of missile weapons and was very brave, and to a youth who possessed knowledge of the past, the present, and the future; and the marriage was also fixed to take place on the seventh day. When Harisvamin returned home he at once told his wife and son of the contract he has entered into with the young Bráhman, and they in their turn acquainted him of their separate engagements, and all were much perplexed what course to adopt in the circumstances.
On the seventh day the three suitors arrived, but Somaprabha was found to have disappeared in some inexplicable manner. The father then appealed to the man of knowledge, saying, “Tell me where my daughter is gone?” He replied, “She has been carried off by a rákshasa to his habitation in the Vindhya forest.” Then quoth the man of magic power “Be of good cheer, for I will take you in a moment where the possessor of knowledge says she is.” And forthwith he prepared a magic chariot that could fly through the air, provided all sorts of weapons, and made Harisvamin, the man of knowledge, and the brave man enter it along with himself, and in a moment carried them to the dwelling of the rákshasa. Then followed a wonderful fight between the brave man and the rákshasa, and in a short time the hero cut off his head, after which they took Somaprabha into the chariot and quickly returned to Harisvamin’s house. And now arose a great dispute between the three suitors. Said the man of knowledge, “If I had not known where the maiden was how could she have been discovered?” The man of magic argued, “If I had not made this chariot that can fly through the air, how could you all have come and returned in a moment?” Then the brave man said, “If I had not slain the rákshasa, how could the maiden have been rescued?” While they were thus wrangling Harisvamin remained silent, perplexed in mind. The Vampyre, having told this story to the King, demanded to know to whom the maiden should have been given. The King replied, “She ought to have been given to the brave man; for he won her by the might of his arm and at the risk of his life, slaying that rákshasa in combat. But the man of knowledge and the man of magic power were appointed by the Creator to serve as his instruments.” The perplexed Harisvamin would have been glad, no doubt, could he have had such a logical solution of the question as this of the sagacious King Trivikramasena — such was his six-syllabled name.
The Hindí version (“Baytál Pachísi”) corresponds with the Sanskrit, but in the Tamil version the father, after hearing from each of the three suitors an account of his accomplishments, promises to give his daughter to “one of them.” Meanwhile a giant comes and carries off the damsel. There is no difference in the rest of the story.
In the Persian Parrot-Book (“Tútí Náma” ) where the tale is also found 414— it is the 34th recital of the loquacious bird in the India Office MS. No. 2573, the 6th in B. Gerrans’ partial translation, 1792, and the 22nd in Káderi’s abridgment — the first suitor says that his art is to discover anything lost and to predict future events; the second can make a horse of wood which would fly through the air; and the third was an unerring archer.
In the Persian “Sindibád Náma,” a princess, while amusing herself in a garden with her maidens, is carried away by a demon to his cave in the mountains. The king proclaims that he will give his daughter in marriage to whoever should bring her back. Four brothers offer themselves for the undertaking: one is a guide who has travelled over the world; the second is a daring robber, who would take the prey even from the lion’s mouth; the third is a brave warrior; and the fourth is a skilful physician. The guide leads the three others to the demons’ cave, the robber steals the damsel while the demon is absent; the physician, finding her at death’s door, restored her to perfect health; while the warrior puts to flight a host of demons who sallied out of the cave.
The Sanskrit story has undergone a curious transformation among the Kalmuks. In the 9th Relation of Siddhí Kúr (a Mongolian version of the Vampyre Tales) six youths are companions: an astrologer, a smith, a doctor, a mechanic, a painter, and a rich man’s son. At the mouth of a great river each plants a tree of life and separates, taking different roads, having agreed to meet again at the same spot, when if the tree of any of them is found to be withered it will be a token that he is dead. The rich man’s son marries a beautiful girl, who is taken from him by the Khan, and the youth is at the same time put to death by the Khan’s soldiers and buried under a great rock. When the four other young men meet at the time and place appointed they find the tree of the rich youth withered. Thereupon the astrologer by his art discovers where the youth is buried; the smith breaks the rock asunder; the physician restores the youth to life, and he tells them how the Khan had robbed him of his wife and killed him. The mechanic then constructs a flying chariot in the form of Garuda — the bird of Vishnu; the counterpart of the Arabian rukh — which the painter decorates, and when it is finished the rich youth enters it and is swiftly borne through the air to the roof of the Khan’s dwelling, where he alights. The Khan, supposing the machine to be a real Garuda, sends the rich youth’s own wife to the roof with some food for it. Could anything have been more fortunate? The youth takes her into the wooden Garuda and they quickly arrive at the place where his companions waited for his return. When they beheld the marvellous beauty of the lady the five skilful men instantly fell in love with her, and began to quarrel among themselves, each claiming the lady as his by right, and drawing their knives they fought and slew one another. So the rich youth was left in undisputed possession of his beautiful bride.
Coming back to Europe we find the primitive form of the story partly preserved in a Greek popular version given in Hahn’s collection: Three young men are in love with the same girl, and agree to go away and meet again at a given time, when he who shall have learned the best craft shall marry the girl. They meet after three years’ absence. One has become a famous astronomer; the second is so skilful a physician that he can raise the dead, and the third can run faster than the wind. The astronomer looks at the girl’s star and knows from its trembling that she is on the point of death. The physician prepares a medicine which the third runs off with at the top of his speed, and pours it down the girl’s throat just in time to save her life — though, for the matter of that, she might as well have died, since the second suitor was able to resuscitate the dead!
But the German tale of the Four Clever Brothers, divested of the preliminary incidents which have been brought into it from different folk-tales, more nearly approaches the form of the original, as we may term the Sanskrit story for convenience’ sake: A poor man sends his four sons into the world, each to learn some craft by which he might gain his own livelihood. After travelling together for some time they came to a place where four roads branched off and there they separated, each going along one of the roads, having agreed to meet at the same spot that day four years. One learns to be an excellent astronomer and, on quitting, his master gives him a telescope,415 saying, “With this thou canst see whatever takes place either on earth or in heaven, and nothing can remain concealed from thee.” Another becomes a most expert thief. The third learns to be a sharpshooter and gets from his master a gun which would never fail him: whatever he aimed at he was sure to hit. And the youngest becomes a very clever tailor and is presented by his master with a needle, which could sew anything together, hard or soft. At the end of the four years they met according to agreement, and returning together to their father’s house, they satisfied the old man with a display of their abilities Soon after this the king’s daughter was carried off by a dragon, and the king proclaimed that whoever brought her back should have her to wife. This the four clever brothers thought was a fine chance for them, and they resolved to liberate the king’s daughter. The astronomer looked through his telescope and saw the princess far away on a rock in the sea and the dragon watching beside her. Then they went and got a ship from the king, and sailed over the sea till they came to the rock, where the princess was sitting and the dragon was asleep with his head in her lap. The hunter feared to shoot lest he should kill the princess. Then the thief crept up the rock and stole her from under the dragon so cleverly that the monster did not awake. Full of joy, they hurried off with her and sailed away. But presently the dragon awoke and missing the princess flew after them through the air. Just as he was hovering above the ship to swoop down upon it, the hunter shot him through the heart and he tumbled down dead, but falling on the vessel his carcase smashed it into pieces. They laid hold of two planks and drifted about till the tailor with his wonderful needle sewed the planks together, and then they collected the fragments of the ship which the tailor also sewed together so skilfully that their ship was again sea-worthy, and they soon got home in safety. The king was right glad to see his daughter and told the four brothers they must settle among themselves which of them should have her to wife. Upon this they began to wrangle with one another. The astronomer said, “If I had not seen the princess, all your arts would have been useless, so she is mine.” The thief claimed her, because he had rescued her from the dragon; the hunter, because he had shot the monster; and the tailor, because he had sewn the ship together and saved them all from drowning. Then the king decreed: “Each of you has an equal right, and as all of you cannot have her, none of you shall; but I will give to each as a reward half a kingdom,” with which the four clever brothers were well contented.
The story has assumed a droll form among the Albanians, in which no fewer than seven remarkably endowed youths play their parts in rescuing a king’s daughter from the Devil, who had stolen her out of the palace. One of the heroes could hear far off; the second could make the earth open; the third could steal from any one without his knowing it; the fourth could throw an object to the end of the world; the fifth could erect an impregnable tower; the sixth could bring down anything however high it might be in the air and the seventh could catch whatever fell from any height. So they set off together, and after travelling along way, the first lays his ear to the ground. “I hear him,” he says. Then the second causes the earth to open, and down they go, and find the Devil sound asleep, snoring like thunder, with the princess clasped to his breast. The third youth steals her without waking the fiend. Then the fourth takes off the Devil’s shoes and flings them to the end of the world, and off they all go with the princess. The Devil wakes and goes after them, but first he must find his shoes — though what need he could have for shoes it is not easy to say; but mayhap the Devil of the Albanians is minus horns, hoof and tail! This gives the fifth hero time to erect his impregnable tower before the fiend returns from the end of the world. When he comes to the tower he finds all his skill is naught, so he has recourse to artifice, which indeed has always been his forte. He begs piteously to be allowed one last look of his beloved princess. They can’t refuse him so slight a favour, and make a tiny hole in the tower wall, but, tiny as it is, the Devil is able to pull the princess through it and instantly mounts on high with her. Now is the marksman’s opportunity: he shoots at the fiend and down he comes, “like a hundred of bricks” (as we don’t say in the classics), at the same time letting go the princess, who is cleverly caught by the seventh hero, and is none the worse for her aerial journey. The princess chooses the seventh for her husband, as he is the youngest and best looking, but her father the king rewards his companions handsomely and all are satisfied.
The charming history of Prince Ahmad and his fairy bride is “conspicuous from its absence” in all these versions, but it re-appears in the Italian collection of Nerucci: “Novelle Popolari Montalesi,” No. xl., p. 335, with some variations from Galland’s story:
A certain king had three daughters, and a neighbouring king had three sons, who were much devoted to the chase. They arrived at the city of the first king, and all fell in love with his daughter416 and wanted to marry her. Her father said it was impossible to content them all, but if one of them would ask her, and if he pleased her, he would not oppose the marriage. They could not agree which it was to be, and her father proposed that they should all travel, and the one who at the end of six months brought the most beautiful and wonderful present should marry her. They set out in different directions and at the end of six months they meet by appointment at a certain inn. The eldest brings a magic carpet on which he is wafted whithersoever he will. (It goes a hundred miles in a day.) The second brings a telescope which shows whatever is happening a hundred miles away. The youngest brings three stones of a grape, one of which put into the mouth of a person who is dying restores him to life. They at once test the telescope by wishing to see the princess, and they find her dying — at the last gasp indeed. By means of the carpet they reach the palace in time to save her life with one of the grape-stones. Each claims the victory. Her father, almost at his wits’ end to decide the question, decrees that they shall shoot with the crossbow, and he who shoots farthest shall win the princess. The second brother shoots farther than the first; but the youngest shoots so far that they cannot find where kits arrow has fallen. He persists in the search and falls down a deep hole, from the bottom of which he can scarcely see a speck of the sky. There an ogre (mago) appears to him and also a bevy of young fairy maidens of extreme beauty. They lead him to a marvellous palace, give him refreshments and provide him with a room and a bed, where every night one of the fairies bears him company. He spends his days in pleasure until the king’s daughter is almost forgotten. At last he begins to think he ought to learn what has become of his brothers, his father, and the lady. The chief fairy however, tries to dissuade him warning him that evil will befall him if he return to his brothers. He persists, and she tells him that the princess is given to his eldest brother, who reigns in his father-in-law’s stead the latter having died, and that his own father is also dead; and she warns him again not to go. But he goes. His eldest brother says that he thought he was dead “in that hole.” The hero replies that, on the contrary, he fares so well with a bevy of young and beautiful fairies that he does not even envy him, and would not change places with him for all the treasures in the world. His brother, devoured by rage, demands that the hero bring him within eight days a pavilion of silk which will lodge three hundred soldiers, otherwise he will destroy his palace of delights. The hero, affrighted, returns to the fairies and relates his brother’s threats. The chief fairy says, “Didn’t I tell you so? You deserve that I should leave you to your fate; but, out of pity for your youth, I will help you.” And he returns to his brother within eight days with the required pavilion. But his brother is not satisfied: he demands another silk pavilion for 600 soldiers, else he will lay waste the abode of the fairies. This pavilion he also receives from the fairies, and it was much finer and richer than the first. His brother’s demands rise when he sees that the hero does not find any difficulty in satisfying him. He now commands that a column of iron 12 cubits (braccia) high be erected in the midst of a piazza. The chief of the fairies also complies with this requirement. The column is ready in a moment, and as the hero cannot carry it himself, she gives it to the guardian ogre, who carries it upon his shoulders, and presents himself, along with the hero, before the eldest brother. As soon as the latter comes to see the column set in the piazza the ogre knocks him down and reduces him to pulp (cofaccino, lit., a cake), and the hero marries his brother’s widow and becomes king in his stead.
Almost suspiciously like the story in Galland in many of the details is an Icelandic version in Powell and Magnússon’s collection, yet I cannot conceive how the peasantry of that country could have got it out of “Les Mille et une Nuits.” There are two ways by which the story might have reached them independently of Galland’s work: the Arabs and Persians traded extensively in former times with Scandinavia, through Russia, and this as well as other Norse tales of undoubtedly Eastern extraction may have been communicated by the same channel;417 or the Norsemen may have taken it back with them from the South of Europe. But however this may be, the Icelandic version is so quaint in its diction, has such a fresh aroma about it, and such novel particulars, that I feel justified in giving it here in full:
It is said that once, in the days of old, there was a good and wealthy king who ruled over a great and powerful realm; but neither his name nor that of his kingdom is given, nor the latter’s whereabouts in the world. He had a queen, and by her three sons, who were all fine youths and hopeful, and the king loved them well. The king had taken, too, a king’s daughter from a neighbouring kingdom, to foster her, and she was brought up with his sons. She was of the same age as they, and the most beautiful and accomplished lady that had ever been seen in those days, and the king loved her in no way less than his own sons. When the princess was of age, all the king’s sons fell in love with her, and things even went so far that they all of them engaged her at once, each in his own name. Their father, being the princess’s foster-father, had the right of bestowing her in marriage, as her own father was dead. But as he was fond of all his sons equally the answer he gave them was, that he left it to the lady’s own choice to take for a husband whichever of the brothers she loved the most. On a certain day he had the princess called up to him and declared his will to her, telling her that she might choose for a husband whichever she liked best of his sons. The princess answered, “Bound I am in duty to obey your words. But as to this choice of one of your sons to be my husband I am in the greatest perplexity; for I must confess they are all equally dear to me, and I cannot choose one before the other.” When the king heard this answer of the princess he found himself in a new embarrassment, and thought a long while what he could do that should be equally agreeable to all parties, and at last hit upon the following decision of the matter: that all his sons should after a year’s travel return each with a precious thing, and that he who had the finest thing should be the princess’s husband. This decision the king’s sons found to be a just one and they agreed to meet after one year at a certain castle in the country, whence they should go all together, to the town, in order to lay their gifts before the princess. And now their departure from the country was arranged as well as could be.
First the tale tells of the eldest, that he went from one land to another, and from one city to another, in search of a precious thing, but found nowhere anything that at all suited his ideas. At last the news came to his ears that there was a princess who had so fine a spy-glass that nothing so marvellous had ever been seen or heard of before. In it one could see all over the world, every place, every city, every man, and every living being that moved on the face of the earth, and what every living thing in the world was doing. Now the prince thought that surely there could be no more precious thing at all likely to turn up for him than this telescope; he therefore went to the princess, in order to buy the spy-glass if possible. But by no means could he prevail upon the king’s daughter to part with her spy-glass, till he had told her his whole story and why he wanted it, and used all his powers of entreaty. As might be expected, he paid for it well. Having got it he returned home, glad at his luck, and hoping to wed the king’s daughter.
The story next turns to the second son. He had to struggle with the same difficulties as his elder brother. He travelled for a long while over the wide world without finding anything at all suitable, and thus for a time he saw no chance of his wishes being fulfilled. Once he came into a very well-peopled city; and went about in search of precious things among the merchants, but neither did he find nor even see what he wanted. He heard that there lived a short way from the town a dwarf, the cleverest maker of curious and cunning things. He therefore resolved to go to the dwarf in order to try whether he could be persuaded to make him any costly thing. The dwarf said that he had ceased to make things of that sort now and he must beg to be excused from making anything of the kind for the prince. But he said that he had a piece of cloth, made in his younger days, with which however, he was very unwilling to part. The king’s son asked the nature and use of the cloth The dwarf answered, “On this cloth one can go all over the world, as well through the air as on the water. Runes are on it, which must be understood by him who uses it.” Now the prince saw that a more precious thing than this could scarcely be found, and therefore asked the dwarf by all means to let him have the cloth. And although the dwarf would not at first part with his cloth at all, yet at last, hearing what would happen if the king’s son did not get it, he sold it to him at a mighty high price. The prince was truly glad to have got the cloth, for it was not only a cloth of great value, but also the greatest of treasures in other respects, having gold-seams and jewel-embroidery. After this he returned home, hoping to get the best of his brothers in the contest for the damsel.
The youngest prince left home last of all the three brethren.418 First he travelled from one village to another in his own country, and went about asking for precious things of every merchant he met on his way, as also on all sides where there was the slightest hope of his getting what he wanted. But all his endeavours were in vain, and the greater part of the year was spent in fruitless search till at last he waxed sad in mind at his lot. At this time he came into a well-peopled city, whereto people were gathered from all parts of the world. He went from one merchant to another till at last he came to one who sold apples.419 This merchant said he had an apple that was of so strange a nature that if it was put into the arm-hole of a dying man he would at once return to life. He declared that it was the property of his family and had always been used in the family as a medicine. As soon as the king’s son heard this he would by all means have the apple, deeming that he would never be able to find a thing more acceptable to the king’s daughter than this. He therefore asked the merchant to sell him the apple and told him all the story of his search, and that his earthly welfare was based upon his being in no way inferior to his brethren in his choice of precious things for the princess. The merchant felt pity for the prince when he had told him his story, so much so that he sold him the apple, and the prince returned home, glad and comforted at his happy luck.
Now nothing more is related of the three brothers till they met together at the place before appointed. When they were all together each related the striking points in his travelling. All being here, the eldest brother thought that he would be the first to see the princess and find out how she was and therefore he took forth his spy-glass and turned it towards the city. But what saw he? The beloved princess lying in her bed, in the very jaws of death! The king, his father, and all the highest nobles of the court were standing round the bed in the blackness of sorrow, sad in their minds, and ready to receive the last sigh of the fair princess. When the prince saw this lamentable sight he was grieved beyond measure. He told his brothers what he had seen and they were no less struck with sorrow than himself. They began bewailing loudly, saying that they would give all they had never to have undertaken this journey, for then at least they would have been able to perform the last offices for the fair princess. But in the midst of these bewailings the second brother bethought him of his cloth, and remembered that he could get to the town on it in a moment. He told this to his brothers and they were glad at such good and unexpected news. Now the cloth was unfolded and they all stepped on to it, and in one of moment it was high in the air and in the next inside the town. When they were there they made all haste to reach the room of the princess, where everybody wore an air deep sadness. They were told that the princess’s every breath was her last. Then the youngest brother remembered his wonderful apple, and thought that it would never be more wanted to show its healing power than now. He therefore went straight into the bed-room of the princess and placed the apple under her right arm. And at the same moment it was as if a new breath of life flushed through the whole body of the princess; her eyes opened, and after a little while she began to speak to the folk around her. This and the return of the king’s sons caused great joy at the court of the king.
Now some time went by until the princess was fully recovered. Then a large meeting was called together, at which the brothers were bidden to show their treasures. First the eldest made his appearance, and showing his spy-glass told what a wonderful thing it was, and also how it was due to this glass that the life of the fair princess had ever been saved, as he had seen through it how matters stood in the town. He therefore did not doubt for a moment that his gift was the one which would secure him the fair princess.
Next stepped forward the second brother with the cloth. Having described its powers, he said, “I am of opinion that my brother’s having seen the princess first would have proved of little avail had I not had the cloth, for thereupon we came so quickly to the place to save the princess; and I must declare that to my mind, the cloth is the chief cause of the king’s daughter’s recovery.”
Next stepped forward the youngest prince and said, as he laid the apple before the people, “Little would the glass and the cloth have availed to save the princess’s live had I not had the apple. What could we brothers have profited in being only witnesses of the beloved damsel’s death? What would this have done, but awaken our grief and regret? It is due alone to the apple that the princess is yet alive; wherefore I find myself the most deserving of her.”
Then a long discussion arose in the meeting, and the decision at last came out, that all the three things had worked equally towards the princess’s recovery, as might be seen from the fact that if one had been wanting the others would have been worthless. It was therefore declared that, as all gifts had equal claim to the prize, no one could decide to whom the princess should belong.
After this the king planned another contrivance in order to come to some end of the matter. He soon should try their skill in shooting, and he who proved to be the ablest shooter of them should have the princess. So a mark was raised and the eldest brother stepped forward with his bow and quiver. He shot, and no great distance from the mark fell his arrow. After that stepped forward the second brother, and his arrow well-nigh reached the mark. Last of all stepped forward the third and youngest brother, and his arrow seemed to go farther than the others, but in spite of continued search for many days it could not be found. The king decided in this matter that his second son should marry the princess They were married accordingly, and as the king, the father of the princess, was dead, his daughter now succeeded him, and her husband became king over his wife’s inheritance. They are now out of this tale, as is also the eldest brother, who settled in life abroad.
The youngest brother stayed at home with his father, highly displeased at the decision the latter had given concerning the marriage of the princess. He was wont to wander about every day where he fancied his arrow had fallen, and at last he found it fixed in an oak in the forest, and saw that it had by far outstripped the mark. He now called together witnesses to the place where the arrow was, with the intention of bringing about some justice in his case. But of this there was no chance, for the king said he could by no means alter his decision. At this the king’s son was so grieved that he went well-nigh out of his wits. One day he busked for a journey, with the full intention of never again setting foot in his country. He took with him all he possessed of fine and precious things, nobody knowing his rede, not even his father, the king.
He went into a great forest and wandered about there many days, without knowing whither he was going, and at last, yielding to hunger and weariness, he found himself no longer equal to travelling; so he sat down under a tree, thinking that his sad and sorrowful life would here come to a close. But after he had sat thus awhile he saw ten people, all in fine attire and bright armour, come riding towards the stone. On arriving there they dismounted, and having greeted the king’s son begged him to go with them, and mount the spare horse they had with them, saddled and bridled in royal fashion. He accepted this offer and mounted the horse, and after this they rode on their way till they came to a large city. The riders dismounted and led the prince into the town, which was governed by a young and beautiful maiden-queen. The riders led the king’s son at once to the virgin-queen, who received him with great kindness. She told him that she had heard of all the ill-luck that had befallen him and also that he had fled from his father. “Then,” quoth she, “a burning love for you was kindled in my breast and a longing to heal your wounds. You must know that it was I who sent the ten riders to find you out and bring you hither. I give you the chance of staying here; I offer you the rule of my whole kingdom, and I will try to sweeten your embittered life; — this is all that I am able to do.” Although the prince was in a sad and gloomy state of mind, he saw nothing better than to accept this generous offer and agree to the marriage with the maiden-queen. A grand feast was made ready, and they were married according to the ways of that country. And the young king took at once in hand the government, which he managed with much ability.
Now the story turns homewards, to the old king. After the disappearance of his son he became sad and weary of life, being, as he was, sinking in age. His queen also had died sometime since. One day it happened that a wayfaring woman came to the palace. She had much knowledge about many things and knew how to tell tales.420 The king was greatly delighted with her story-telling and she got soon into his favour. Thus some time passed. But in course of time the king fell deeply in love with this woman, and at last married her and made her his queen, in spite of strong dissent from the court. Shortly this new queen began meddling in the affairs of the government, and it soon turned out that she was spoiling everything by her redes, whenever she had the chance. Once it happened that the queen spoke to the king and said, “Strange indeed it seems to me that you make no inquiry about your youngest son’s running away: smaller faults have been often chastised than that. You must have heard that he has become king in one of the neighbouring kingdoms, and that it is a common tale that he is going to invade your dominions with a great army whenever he gets the wished-for opportunity, in order to avenge the injustice he thinks he has suffered in that bygone bridal question. Now I want you to be the first in throwing this danger off-hand.” The king showed little interest in the matter and paid to his wife’s chattering but little attention. But she contrived at length so to speak to him as to make him place faith in her words, and he asked her to give him good redes, that this matter might be arranged in such a way as to be least observed by other folk. The queen said, “You must send men with gifts to him and pray him to come to you for an interview, in order to arrange certain political matters before your death, as also to strengthen your friendship with an interchange of marks of kindred. And then I will give you further advice as to what to do.” The king was satisfied with this and equipped his messengers royally.
Then the messengers came before the young king, saying they were sent by his father, who wished his son to come and see him without delay. To this the young king answered well, and lost no time in bushing his men and himself. But when his queen knew this she said he would assuredly rue this journey. The king went off, however, and nothing is said of his travels till he came to the town where his father lived. His father received him rather coldly, much to the wonder and amazement of his son. And when he had been there a short while his father gave him a good chiding for having run away. “Thereby,” said the old king, “you have shown full contempt of myself and caused me such sorrow as well-nigh brought me to the grave. Therefore, according to the law, you have deserved to die; but as you have delivered yourself up into my power and are, on the other hand, my son, I have no mind to have you killed. But I have three tasks for you which you must have performed within a year, on pain of death. The first is that you bring me a tent which will hold one hundred men but can yet be hidden in the closed hand;421 the second, that you shall bring me water that cures all ailments;422 and the third, that you shall bring me hither a man who has not his like in the whole world.” “Show me whither I shall go to obtain these things,” said the young king. “That you must find out for yourself,” replied the other.
Then the old king turned his back upon his son and went off. Away went also the young king, no farewells being said, and nothing is told of his travels till he came home to his realm. He was then very sad and heavy-minded, and the queen seeing this asked him earnestly what had befallen him and what caused the gloom on his mind. He declared that this did not regard her. The queen answered, “I know that tasks must have been set you which it will not prove easy to perform. But what will it avail you to sit sullen and sad on account of such things? Behave as a man, and try if these tasks may not indeed be accomplished.”
Now the king thought it best tell the queen all that had happened and how matters stood. “All this,” said the queen, “is the rede of your stepmother, and it would be well indeed if she could do you no more harm by it than she has already tried to do. She has chosen such difficulties she thought you would not easily get over, but I can do something here. The tent is in my possession, so there is that difficulty over. The water you have to get is a short way hence but very hard of approach. It is in a well and the well is in a cave hellishly dark. The well is watched by seven lions and three serpents, and from these monsters nobody has ever returned alive; and the nature of the water is that it has no healing power whatever unless it be drawn when all these monsters are awake. Now I will risk the undertaking of drawing the water.” So the queen made herself ready to go to the cave, taking with her seven oxen and three pigs. When she came before the cave she ordered the oxen to be killed and thrown before the lions and the pigs before the serpents. And while these monsters tore and devoured the carcases the queen stepped down into the well and drew as much water as she wanted. And she left the cave just in time as the beasts finished devouring their bait. After this the queen went home to the palace having thus got over the second trial.
Then she came to her husband and said, “Now two of the tasks are done, but the third and indeed the hardest, of them is left. Moreover, this is one you must perform yourself, but I can give you some hints as to whither to go for it. I have got a half brother who rules over an island not far from hence. He is three feet high, and has one eye in the middle of his forehead. He has a beard thirty ells long, stiff and hard as a hog’s bristles. He has a dog’s snout and cat’s ears, and I should scarcely fancy he has his like in the whole world. When he travels he flings himself forward on a staff of fifty ells’ length, with a pace as swift as a bird’s flight. Once when my father was out hunting he was charmed by an ogress who lived in a cave under a waterfall, and with her he begat this bugbear. The island is one-third of my father’s realm, but his son finds it too small for him. My father had a ring the greatest gem, which each of us would have, sister and brother, but I got it, wherefore he has been my enemy ever since. Now I will write him a letter and send him the ring in the hope that that will soften him and turn him in our favour. You shall make ready to go to him, with a splendid suite, and when you come to his palace-door you shall take off your crown and creep bareheaded over the floor up to his throne. Then you shall kiss his right foot and give him the letter and the ring. And if he orders you to stand up, you have succeeded in your task; if not, you have failed.”
So he did everything that he was bidden by the queen, and when he appeared before the one-eyed king he was stupefied at his tremendous ugliness and his bugbear appearance; but he plucked up courage as best he could and gave him the letter and the ring. When the king saw the letter and the ring his face brightened up, and he said, “Surely my sister finds herself in straits now, as she sends me this ring.” And when he had read the letter he bade the king, his brother-in-law, stand up, and declared that he was ready to comply with his sister’s wish and to go off at once without delay. He seized his staff and started away, but stopped now and then for his brother-in-law and his suite, to whom he gave a good chiding for their slowness.423 They continued thus their march until they came to the palace of the queen, the ugly king’s sister; but when they arrived there the one-eyed king cried with a roaring voice to his sister, and asked her what she wished, as she had troubled him to come so far from home. She then told him all the matter as it really was and begged him to help her husband out of the trial put before him. He said he was ready to do so, but would brook no delay.
Now both kings went off, and nothing is told of their journey until they came to the old king. The young king announced to his father his coming and that he brought with him what he had ordered last year. He wished his father to call together a ting424 in order that he might show openly how he had performed his tasks. This was done, and the king and the queen and other great folk were assembled. First the tent was put forward and nobody could find fault with it. Secondly the young king gave the wondrous healing water to his father. The queen was prayed to taste it and see if it was the right water, taken at the right time. She said that both things were as they should be. Then said the old king, “Now the third and heaviest of all the tasks is left: come, and have it off your hands quickly.” Then the young king summoned the king with one eye, and as he appeared on the ting he waxed so hideous that all the people were struck with fright and horror, and most of all the king. When this ugly monarch had shown himself for a while there he thrust his staff against the breast of the queen and tilted her up into the air on the top of it, and then thrust her against the ground with such force that every bone in her body was broken. She turned at once into the most monstrous troll ever beheld. After this the one eyed king rushed away from the ting and the people thronged round the old king in order to help him, for he was in the very jaws of death from fright. The healing water was sprinkled on him and refreshed him.
After the death of the queen, who was killed of course when she turned into a troll, the king confessed that all the tasks which he had given his son to perform were undeserved and that he had acted thus, egged on by the queen. He called his son to him and humbly begged his forgiveness for what he had done against him. He declared he would atone for it by giving into his hand all that kingdom, while he himself only wished to live in peace and quiet for the rest of his days. So the young king sent for his queen and for the courtiers whom he loved most. And, to make a long story short, they gave up their former kingdom to the king with one eye, as a reward, for his lifetime, but governed the realm of the old king to a high age, in great glee and happiness,
414 Dr. W. Grimm, in the notes to his “Kinder und Hausmärchen,” referring to the German form of the story (which we shall come to by and-by), says, ”The Parrot, which is the fourth story in the Persian Touti Nameh, bears some resemblance to this”— the Parrot is the reciter of all the stories in the collection, not the title of this particular tale.
415 To Sir Richard Burton’s interesting note on the antiquity of the lens and its applied use to the telescope and microscope may be added a passage or two from Sir William Drummond’s “Origines; or, Remarks on the Origin of several Empires, States, and Cities,” 1825, vol. ii. pp. 246-250. This writer appears to think that telescopes were not unknown to the ancients and adduces plausible evidence in support of his opinion. “Moschopalus,” he says, “an ancient grammarian, mentions four instruments with which the astronomers of antiquity were accustomed to observe the stars — the catoptron, the dioptron, the eisoptron and the enoptron.” He supposes the catoptron to have been the same with the astrolabe. “The dioptron seems to have been so named from a tube through which the observer looked. Were the other two instruments named from objects being reflected in a mirror placed within them? Aristotle says that the Greeks employed mirrors when they surveyed the celestial appearances. May we not conclude from this circumstance that astronomers were not always satisfied with looking through empty tubes?” He thinks the ancients were acquainted with lenses and has collected passages from various writers which corroborate his opinion, besides referring to the numerous uses to which glass was applied in the most remote ages. He goes on to say:
“Some of the observations of the ancients must appear very extraordinary, if magnifying glasses had never been known among them. The boldness with which the Pythagoreans asserted that the surface of the moon was diversified by mountains and valleys can hardly be accounted for, unless Pythagoras had been convinced of the fact by the help of telescopes, which might have existed in the observatories of Egypt and Chaldea before those countries were conquered and laid waste by the Persians. Pliny (L. 11) says that 1600 stars had been counted in the 72 constellations, and by this expression I can only understand him to mean the 72 dodecans into which the Egyptians and Chaldeans divided the zodiac. Now this number of stars could never have been counted in the zodiac without the assistance of glasses. Ptolemy reckoned a much less number for the whole heavens The missionaries found many more stars marked in the Chinese charts of the heavens than formerly existed in those which were in use in Europe. Suidas, at the word (glass), indicates, in explaining a passage in Aristophanes, that burning mirrors were occasionally made of glass. Now how can we suppose burning mirrors to have been made of glass without supposing the magnifying powers of glass to have been known? The Greeks, as Plutarch affirms, employed metallic mirrors, either plane, or convex, or concave, according to the use for which they were intended. If they could make burning mirrors of glass, they could have given any of these forms to glass. How then could they have avoided observing that two glasses, one convex and the other concave, placed at a certain distance from each other, magnified objects seen through them? Numerous experiments must have been made with concave and convex glasses before burning mirrors made of glass could have been employed. If astronomers never knew the magnifying powers of glass, and never placed lenses in the tubes of the dioptrons, what does Strabo (L. 3, c. 138) mean when he says: ‘Vapours produce the same effects as the tubes in magnifying objects of vision by refraction?’”
Mr. W. F. Thompson, in his translation of the “Ahlak-i-Jalaly,” from the Persian of Fakír Jání Muhammad (15th century), has the following note on the Jám-i-Jámshid and other magical mirrors: “Jámshíd, the fourth of the Kaianian dynasty, the Soloman of the Persians. His cup was said to mirror the world, so that he could observe all that was passing elsewhere — a fiction of his own for state purposes, apparently, backed by the use of artificial mirrors. Nizámí tells that Alexander invented the steel mirror, by which he means, of course, that improved reflectors were used for telescopy in the days of Archimedes, but not early enough to have assisted Jámshíd, who belongs to the fabulous and unchronicled age. In the romance of Beyjan and Manija, in the “Shah Náma,” this mirror is used by the great Khosrú for the purpose of discovering the place of the hero’s imprisonment:
“The mirror in his hand revolving shook,
And earth’s whole surface glimmered in his look;
Nor less the secrets of the starry sphere,
The what, the when, the bow depicted clear,
From orbs celestial to the blade of grass,
All nature floated in the magic glass.”
416 We have been told this king had three daughters.
417 See in “Blackwood’s Magazine,” vol. iv., 1818, 1819, a translation, from the Danish of J. L. Rasmussen, of “An Historical and Geographical Essay on the trade and commerce of the Arabians and Persians with Russia and Scandinavia during the Middle Ages. — But learned Icelanders, while England was still semi-civilized, frequently made very long journeys into foreign lands: after performing the pilgrimage to Rome, they went to Syria, and some penetrated into Central Asia.
418 This, of course, is absurd, as each was equally interested in the business; but it seems to indicate a vague reminiscence of the adventures of the Princes in the story of The Envious Sisters.
419 There is a naivete about this that is particularly refreshing.
420 This recalls the fairy Meliora, in the romance of Partenopex de Blois. who “knew of ancient tales a countless store.”
421 In a Norwegian folk-tale the hero receives from a dwarf a magic ship that could enlarge itself so as to contain any number of men, yet could be earned in the pocket.
422 The Water of Life, the Water of Immortality, the Fountain of Youth — a favourite and wide-spread myth during the Middle Ages. In the romance of Sir Huon of Bordeaux the hero boldly encounters a griffin, and after a desperate fight, in which he is sorely wounded, slays the monster. Close at hand he discovers a clear fountain, at the bottom of which is a gravel of precious stones. “Then he dyde of his helme and dranke of the water his fyll, and he had no sooner dranke therof but incontynent he was hole of all his woundys.” Nothing more frequently occurs in folk tales than for the hero to be required to perform three difficult and dangerous tasks — sometimes impossible, without supernatural assistance.
423 “Say, will a courser of the Sun
All gently with a dray-horse run?”
424 Ting: assembly of notables — of udallers, &c. The term survives in our word hustings; and in Ding-wall —Ting-val; where tings were held.
Legends of castaway infants are common to the folk-lore of almost all countries and date far back into antiquity. The most usual mode of exposing them — to perish or be rescued, as chance might direct — is placing them in a box and launching them into a river. The story of Moses in the bulrushes, which must of course be familiar to everybody, is not only paralleled in ancient Greek and Roman legends (e.g. Perseus, Cyrus, Romulus), but finds its analogue in Babylonian folk-lore.425 The leading idea of the tale of the Envious Sisters, who substituted a puppy, a kitten, and a rat for the three babes their young sister the queen had borne and sent the little innocents away to be destroyed, appealing, as it does to the strongest of human instincts, is the theme of many popular fictions from India to Iceland. With a malignant mother-in-law in place of the two sisters, it is the basis of a mediæval European romance entitled “The Knight of the Swan,” and of a similar tale which occurs in “Dolopathus,” the oldest version of the “Seven Wise Masters,” written in Latin prose about the year 1180: A king while hunting loses his way in a forest and coming to a fountain perceives a beautiful lady, whom he carries home and duly espouses much against the will of his mother, Matabrun. Some time after, having to lead his knights and men-at-arms against an enemy, he commits the queen, now far advanced in pregnancy to the care of his mother, who undertakes that no harm shall befall her during his absence. The queen is delivered at one birth of seven lovely children, six boys and one girl, each of whom has a silver chain around its neck.426 The king’s mother plots with the midwife to do away with the babes and place seven little dogs in bed beside the poor queen. She gives the children to one of her squires, charging him either to slay them or cast them into the river. But when the squire enters the forest his heart relents and laying the infants wrapped in his mantle, on the ground, he returns and tells his mistress that he has done her behest. When the king returns, the wicked Matabrun accuses his wife to him of having had unnatural commerce with a dog, and shows him the seven puppies. The scene which follows presents a striking likeness to that in the Arabian story after the birth of the third child. King Oriant is full of wrath, and at once assembles his counsellors, “dukes, earls knights and other lords of the realm, with the bishop and prelate of the church,” and having stated the case, the bishop pleads in favour of the queen, and finally induces him not to put her to death, but confine her in prison for the rest of her life. Meanwhile the children are discovered by an aged hermit, who takes them to his dwelling, baptises them and brings them up. After some years it happens that a yeoman in the service of the king’s mother, while hunting in the forest, perceives the seven children with silver chains round their necks seated under a tree. He reports this to Matabrun, who forthwith sends him back to kill the children and bring her their silver chains. He finds but six of them one being absent with the hermit, who was gone alms seeking; and, touched by their innocent looks, he merely takes off the silver chains, whereupon they become transformed into pretty white swans and fly away. How the innocence of the queen is afterwards vindicated by her son Helyas — he who escaped being changed into a swan — and how his brethren and sister are restored to their proper forms would take too long to tell, and indeed the rest of the romance has no bearing on the Arabian tale.427
In another mediaeval work, from which Chaucer derived his Man of Law’s Tale, the Life of Constance, by Nicholas Trivet, an English Dominican monk, the saintly heroine is married to a king, in whose absence at the wars his mother plots against her daughter-in- law. When Constance gives birth to a son, the old queen causes letters to be written to the king, in which his wife is declared to be an evil spirit in the form of a woman and that she had borne, not a human child, but a hideous monster. The king, in reply, commands Constance to be tended carefully until his return. But the traitress contrives by means of letters forged in the king’s name to have Constance and her son sent to sea in a ship, where she meets with strange adventures. Needless to say, the old queen’s wicked devices come to naught.
The story of the Envious Sisters as told by Galland was known in Italy (as Dr. W. Grimm points out in the valuable notes to his K. u. H.M.) many generations before the learned Frenchman was born, through the “Pleasant Nights” of Straparola. That Galland took his story from the Italian novelist it is impossible to believe, since, as Mr. Coote has observed, Straparola’s work “was already known in France for a couple of centuries through a popular French translation,” and Galland would at once have been an easily convicted copyist. Moreover the story, imitated from Straparola, by Madame d’Aulnois, under the title of “La Belie Etoile et Le Prince Cheri,” had been published before Galland’s last two volumes appeared, and both those writers had the same publisher. It is clear, therefore, that Galland neither invented the story nor borrowed it from Straparola or Madame d’Aulnois. Whence, then, did he obtain it? — that is the question. His Arabic source has not yet been discovered, but a variant of the world-wide story is at the present day orally current in Egypt and forms No. xi. of “Comes Arabes Modernes. Recueillis et Traduits par Guillaume Spitta Bey” (Paris, 1883), of which the following is a translation:
There was once a King who said to his vazír, “Let us take a walk through the town during the night.” In walking about they came to a house where they heard people talking, and stopping before it they heard a girl say, “If the King would marry me, I would make him a tart (or pie) so large that it would serve for him and his army.” And another said, “If the King would marry me, I would make him a tent that would shelter him and his whole army.” Then a third said, “If the King would marry me, I would present him with a daughter and a son, with golden hair, and hair of hyacinth colour alternately; if they should weep, it would thunder, and if they should laugh, the sun and moon would appear.” The King on hearing these words went away, and on the following day he sent for the three girls and made the contract of marriage with them. He passed the first night with the one who had spoken first, and said to her, “Where is the tart that would be sufficient for me and my army?” She answered him, “The words of the night are greased with butter: when day appears they melt away.” The next night he slept with the second, saying to her, “Where is the tent which would be large enough for me and my army?” She answered him, “It was an idea that came into my mind.” So the King ordered them to go down into the kitchen among the slaves. He passed the third night with the tattle one, saying, “Where are the boy and girl whose hair is to be like gold and hyacinth?” She replied, “Tarry with me nine months and nine minutes.” In due time she became pregnant, and on the night of her confinement the midwife was sent for. Then the other wife of the King went and met her in the street and said to her, “When she has been delivered, how much will the King give you?” She answered, “He will issue orders to give me fifteen mahbúbs.428 The other said, “Behold, here are forty mahhúbs from me. Take these two little blind puppies, and when she has given birth to a son and a daughter, take them and place them in a box and put these two puppies in their stead, and remove the children.” The midwife took the money and the little dogs and went away. When the King’s new wife was safely delivered, the midwife did according to her agreement with the other wife of the King, and then went before him and said, “I fear to speak.” He answered, “Speak; I grant you pardon.” Then said she, “Your wife has been delivered of two dogs.” Then the King gave orders, saying, “Take and cover her with tar, and bind her to the staircase, and let any who may go up or down spit upon her,” which was done accordingly. And the midwife carried away the children and threw them into the river.
Now there was a fisherman who lived on an island with his wife, and they had no children. On the morrow he went to the water-side to fish and found a box driven on to the shore He carried it home to his wife, and placing it between them, he said, “Listen, my dear, I am going to make a bargain with you: if this contains money, it will be for me, if it contains children, they will be for you.” She replied, “Very well, I am quite content.” They then opened the box and found in it a baby boy and girl. The baby boy had his finger in the baby girl’s mouth and the latter had her finger in his mouth, and they were sucking one another’s fingers. The woman took them out of the box and prayed to Heaven, “Make milk come into my breasts, for the sake of these little ones.” And by the Almighty power the milk came into her breasts, and she continued to bring them up until they had reached the age of twelve years.
One day the fisherman caught two large white fish, and the youth said to him, “These two white fish are pretty, my father; I will take and sell them, or carry them as a present to the King.” So the boy took them and went away. He sat down with them in the Fish Market: people gathered about him, and those who did not look at the fish looked at the boy. The King also came past, and seeing the two white fish and the boy he called to him saying, “What is the price, my lad?” The boy answered, “They are a present for you, my prince.” Thereupon the King took him to the palace and said to him, “What is your name?” and he replied, “My name is Muhammed, and my father is the fisherman who lives on the island.” Then the King gave him thirty mahbúbs, saying, “Go away, discreet one, and every day return here to my house.” So the lad returned home and gave the money to his father. The next morning two more white fish were caught and Muhammed carried them to the King, who took him into his garden and made him sit down opposite him. The King remained there drinking his wine and looking on the beauty of the youth: love for the lad entered his heart and he remained with him two hours.429 Then he gave orders to provide the youth with a horse for his use in coming to and returning from his house, and Muhammed mounted the horse and rode home.
When he visited the King the following day he was again led into the garden, and the other wife of the King, looking from her window saw the lad and recognised him. She at once sent for the old midwife, and said to her, “I bade you kill the children, yet they are still living upon the earth.” Replied the old woman, “Have patience with me, O Queen for three days, and I will kill him.” Then she went away, and having procured a pitcher tied it to her girdle, bewitched it, mounted on it, and struck it with a whip, and forthwith the pitcher flew away with her and descended upon the island near the fisherman’s cottage.430 She found the young girl, Muhammed’s sister, sitting alone, and thus addressed her: “My dear, why are you thus alone and sad? Tell your brother to fetch you the rose of Arab Zandyk, that it may sing to you and amuse you, instead of your being thus lonely and low-spirited.” When her brother came home, he found her displeased and asked her, “Why are you vexed, my sister?” She replied, “I should like the rose of Arab Zandyk, that it may sing to me and amuse me.” “At your command,” said he; “I am going to bring it to you.”
He mounted his horse and travelled into the midst of the desert, where he perceived an ogress seated and pounding wheat with a millstone on her arm. Alighting, he came up to her and saluted her saying, “Peace be with you, mother ogress.” She replied, “If your safety did not prevail over your words, I would eat the flesh from off your bones.” Then she asked, “Where are you going, Muhammed the Discreet?” He answered, “I am in quest of the singing rose of Arab Zandyk.” She showed him the way, saying, “You will find before the palace a kid and a dog fastened, and before the kid a piece of meat and before the dog a bunch of clover: lift the meat and throw it to the dog, and give the clover to the kid.431 Then the door will open for you: enter and pluck the rose; return immediately without looking behind you, because, if you do so, you will be bewitched and changed into stone, like the enchanted ones who are there.” Muhammed the Discreet carefully followed the instructions of the ogress: plucked the rose, went out by the door, put back the meat before the kid and the clover before the dog, and carried the rose home to his sister.
Then he again went to the house of the King, who saluted him and said, “Where hast thou been, discreet one? Why hast thou absented thyself so long from my house?” And he answered, “I was sick, O King.” Then the King took him by the hand and entered the garden, and both sat down. The wife of the King saw them seated together, and sending for the midwife she angrily asked, “Why do you befool me, old woman?” She replied “Have patience with me for three days more, O Queen.” Then she mounted her pitcher and arriving at the house of the young girl, she said, “Has thy brother fetched thee the rose?” “Yes,” answered the girl, “but it does not sing.” Quoth the old woman, “It only sings with its looking-glass,” and then went away. When the youth returned he found his sister vexed, and he asked, “Why are you so sad, my sister?” She replied, “I should like the looking-glass of the rose, by means of which it sings.” Quoth he, “I obey your orders, and will bring it to you.”
Muhammed the Discreet rode on till he came to the ogress, who asked him what he wanted. “I wish,” said he, “the looking-glass of the rose.” “Well, go and do with the dog and kid as you did before. When you have entered the garden you will find some stairs go up them, and in the first room you come to you will find the mirror suspended. Take it, and set out directly, without looking behind you. If the earth shake with you, keep a brave heart, otherwise you will have gone on a fruitless errand.” He went and did according to the instructions of the ogress. In taking away the mirror the earth shook under him, but he made his heart as hard as an anvil and cared nothing for the shaking. But when he brought the mirror to his sister and she had placed it before the rose of Arab Zandyk, still the rose sang not.
When he visited the King, he excused his absence, saying, “I was led on a journey with my father, but here am I, returned once more.” The King led him by the hand into the garden, and the wife of the King again perceiving him she sent for the midwife and demanded of her, “Why do you mock me again, old woman?” Quoth she, “Have patience with me for three days, O Queen; this time will be the beginning and the end.” Then she rode on her pitcher to the island, and asked the young girl, “Has thy brother brought thee the mirror?” “Yes, but still the rose sings not.” “Ah, it only sings with its mistress, who is called Arab Zandyk,” and so saying she departed. Muhammed the Discreet on his return home again found his sister disconsolate, and in answer to his inquiries, she said, “I desire Arab Zandyk, mistress of the rose and of the mirror, that I may amuse myself with her when you are absent.”
He at once mounted his horse and rode on till he came to the house of the ogress. “How fares it with you, mother ogress?” “What do you want now, Muhammed the Discreet?” “I wish Arab Zandyk, mistress of the rose and of the mirror.” Quoth the ogress, “Many kings and pashas have not been able to bring her: she hath changed them all into stone; and thou art small and poor — what will become of thee?” “Only, my dear mother ogress show me the way, and I shall bring her, with the permission of God.” Said the ogress, “Go to the west side of the palace; there you will find an open window. Bring your horse under the window and then cry in a loud voice, ‘Descend, Arab Zandyk!’” Muhammed the Wary went accordingly, halted beneath the window, and cried out, “Descend, Arab Zandyk!” She looked from her window scornfully and said,” Go away, young man.” Muhammed the Discreet raised his eyes and found that half of his horse was changed into stone. A second time cried he in a loud voice, “Descend, Arab Zandyk!” She insulted him and said, “I tell you, go away, young man.’ He looked again and found his horse entirely enchanted and half of himself as well. A third time he cried in a loud voice, “I tell you, descend, Arab Zandyk!” She inclined herself half out of the window, and her hair fell down to the ground. Muhammed the Discreet seized it, twined it round his hand pulled her out, and threw her on the earth. Then said she, “Thou art my fate, Muhammed the Wary; relinquish thy hold of my hair, by the life of thy father the King.” Quoth he “My father is a fisherman.” “Nay,” she replied, “thy father is the King, by-and-by I will tell thee his history.” Quoth he, “I will leave hold of your hair when you have set at liberty the enchanted men.” She made a sign with her right arm and they were at once set free. They rushed headlong towards Muhammed the Prudent to take her from him but some of them said “Thanks to him who hath delivered us: do you still wish to take her from him?” So they left him and went their several ways.
Arab Zandyk then took him by the hand and led him into her castle. She gave her servants orders to build a palace in the midst of the isle of the fisherman, which being accomplished, she took Muhammed the Discreet and her soldiers and proceeded thither and then she said to him, “Go to the King, and when he asks you where you have been reply, ‘I have been preparing my nuptials and invite you, with your army.’” He went to the King and spoke as Arab Zandyk had instructed him, upon which the King laughed and said to his vazír, “This young man is the son of a fisherman and comes to invite me with my army!” Quoth the vazír, “On account of your love for him, command that the soldiers take with them food for eight days, and we also will take our provender for eight days.” The King having issued orders to that effect, and all being ready, they all set out and arriving at the house of the fisherman’s son, they found a large number of beautiful tents erected for the soldiers’ accommodation and the King was astonished. Then came the feasting — one dainty dish being quickly followed by another still more delicious and the soldiers said among themselves, “We should like to remain here for two years to eat meat and not be obliged to eat only beans and lentils.” They continued there forty days until the nuptials were completed, well content with their fare. Then the King departed with his army. The King sent a return invitation, and Arab Zandyk commanded her soldiers to set out in order to precede her to the capital. When the soldiers arrived they filled the town so that there was scarcely sufficient house-room for them. Then Arab Zandyk set out accompanied by Muhammed and his sister. They entered the royal palace, and as they ascended the staircase, Arab Zandyk perceived the mother of Muhammed covered with tar and in chains, so she threw over her a cashmere shawl and covered her. The servants who were standing about said to Arab Zandyk, “Why do you cover her with a shawl? Spit upon her when you go up and also when you come down.” She asked, “Why so?” Said they, “Because she gave birth to two dogs.” Then they went to the King and said, “A lady amongst the strangers has thrown a cashmere shawl over her who is fastened to the staircase, and has covered her without spitting upon her.” The King went and met Arab Zandyk and asked, “Why have you covered her?” Said she, “Give orders that she be conducted to the bath, cleansed, and dressed in a royal robe, after which I will relate her history.” The King gave the required orders, and when she was decked in a royal robe they conducted her into the divan. Then said the King to Arab Zandyk, “Tell me now the history.” Said she, “Listen, O King, the fisherman will speak,” and then Arab Zandyk said to the fisherman, “Is it true that your wife gave birth to Muhammed and his sister at one time or at separate times?” He replied, “My wife has no children.” “Where, then did you get them?” Quoth he, “I went one morning to fish, and found them in a box on the bank of the river. I took them home, and my wife brought them up.” Arab Zandyk then said, “Hast thou heard, O King?” and turning to his wife, “Are these thy children, O woman?” Said she, “Tell them to uncover their heads that I may see them.” When they uncovered their heads, they were seen to have alternately hair of gold and hair of hyacinth. The King then asked her, “Are these thy children?” “Tell them to weep: if it thunders and rains, they are my children, and if it does not thunder or rain, they are not mine.” The children wept, and it thundered and rained. Then he asked her again, “Are these thy children?” And she said, “Tell them to laugh: if the sun and moon appear, they are my children.” They told them to laugh, and the sun and moon appeared. Then he asked her once more, “Are these thy children?” and she said, “They are my children!” Then the King appointed the fisherman vazír of his right hand, and commanded that the city be illuminated for forty whole days; on the last day he caused his other wife and the old witch (the midwife) to be led out and burnt, and their ashes to be dispersed to the winds.
The variations between this and Galland’s story are very considerable, it must be allowed, and though the fundamental outline is the same in both, they should be regarded as distinct versions of the same tale, and both are represented by Asiatic and European stories. Here the fairy Arab Zandyk plays the part of the Speaking-Bird, which, however, has its equivalent in the preceding tale (No. x.) of Spitta Bey’s collection:
A man dies, leaving three sons and one daughter. The sons build a palace for their sister and mother. The girl falls in love with some one who is not considered as an eligible parti by the brothers. By the advice of an old woman, the girl asks her brothers to get her the singing nightingale, in hope that the bird would throw sand on them and thus send them down to the seventh earth. The eldest before setting out on this quest leaves his chaplet with his younger brother, saying that if it shrank it would be a token that he was dead. Journeying through the desert some one tells him that many persons have been lost in their quest of the singing nightingale: he must hide himself till he sees the bird go into its cage and fall asleep, then shut the cage and carry it off. But he does not wait long enough, and tries to shut the cage while the bird’s feet are still outside, so the bird takes up sand with its feet and throws it on him, and he descends to the seventh earth. The second brother, finding the chaplet shrunk, goes off in his turn, leaving his ring with the youngest brother — if it contract on the finger it will betoken his death. He meets with the same fate as his elder brother, and now the youngest, finding the ring contract, sets out, leaving with his mother a rose, which will fade if he dies. He waits till the singing nightingale is asleep, and then shuts him in the cage. The bird in alarm implores to be set at liberty, but the youth demands first the restoration of his brothers, and the bird tells him to scatter on the ground some sand from beneath the cage, which he does, when only a crowd of negroes and Turks (? Tátárs) appear, and confess their failure to capture the singing nightingale. Then the bird bids him scatter white sand, which being done, 500 whites and the two lost brothers appear and the three return home with the bird, which sings so charmingly in the palace that all the people come to listen to it outside. — The rest of this story tells of the amours of the girl and a black, who, at her instigation, kills her eldest brother, but he is resuscitated by the Water of Life.
Through the Moors, perhaps, the story found its way among the wandering tribes (the Kabail) of Northern Africa, who have curiously distorted its chief features, though not beyond recognition, as will be seen from the following abstract of their version, from M. Riviere’s collection of “Comes Populaires de la Kabylie du Djurdjura” (Paris, 1882):
A man has two wives, one of whom is childless, the other bears in succession seven sons and a daughter. The childless wife cuts off the little finger of each and takes them one by one into the forest, where they are brought up. An old woman comes one day and tells the daughter that if her brothers love her they will give her a bat. The girl cries to her brothers for a bat, and one of them consults an aged man, who sends him to the sea shore. He puts down his gun under a tree, and a bat from above cries out, “What wild beast is this?” The youth replies, “You just go to sleep, old fellow.” The bat comes down, touches the gun and it becomes a piece of wood; touches the youth and he becomes microscopic. This in turn happens to all the brothers, after which the girl goes to the sea-shore, and when she is under the tree the bat calls out, “What wild beast is this?” But she does not answer she waits till the bat is asleep, then climbs the tree, and catching the “bird” (sic), asks it where her brothers are, and on her promising to clothe the bat in silver and gold, the creature touches the guns and the brothers, and they are restored to their proper forms. The bat then conducts them to their father’s house, where he asks lodgings and is refused by the childless wife. The husband takes them in however and kills a sheep for their entertainment. The childless wife poisons the meat, and the bat warns the children, bidding them try a cock, a dog, and a cat with it, which is done, and the animals die. The brothers now decline the food and ask that their sister be allowed to prepare somewhat for them to eat. Then the bat touches the eyes of the children, who immediately recognise their parents, and great is the rejoicing. The childless wife is torn in pieces by being dragged at the tail of a wild horse, and the bat, having been dressed in silver and gold, is sent back to his tree.
Sir Richard has given (p. 313, note) some particulars of the version in Hahn’s collection of modern Greek tales, which generally corresponds with Galland’s story. There is a different version in M. Legrand’s “Recueil de Contes Populaires Grecs” (Paris, 1881), which combines incidents in the modern Arabic story of Arab Zandyk with some of those in Galland and some which it has exclusively:
Three daughters of an old woman disobey the order of the King, not to use a light at night because of the scarcity of oil, and work on as usual. The King in going round the town to see if his order is obeyed comes to their house, and overhears the eldest girl express a wish that she were married to the royal baker, so that she should have plenty of bread. The second wishes the King’s cook for her husband, to have royal meals galore. The youngest wishes to have the King himself, saying she would bear him as children, “Sun,” “Moon,” and “Star.” Next day the King sends for them and marries each as she had wished. When the youngest brings forth the three children, in successive years, her mother-in-law, on the advice of a “wise woman,” (? the midwife) substitutes a dog, a cat and a serpent, and causes the infants to be put in a box and sent down the river, and the queen is disgraced.
An old monk, in the habit of going down to the river and taking one fish daily, one day gets two fishes, and asks God the reason. In reply he is told that he will henceforth have two mouths to feed. Presently, he finds the box with the infant “Sun” in it and takes him home. Next year he gets one day three fishes, and finds the infant “Moon”, and the third year he has four fishes one day and finds the baby-girl, “Star.” When the children have grown up the monk sends them to town in order that they should learn the ways of the world. The eldest hearing a Jew offering a box for sale, saying, “Whoever buys this box will be sorry for it, and he who does not buy it will be equally sorry,” purchases it and on taking it home finds his sister weeping for the golden apple which the “wise woman” (who had found them out) told her she must get. He opens the Jew’s box and finds a green and winged horse in it. The horse tells him how to get the golden apple from the forty guardian dragons. They go and get it. After this the old woman comes again and tells the sister that she must get the golden bough, on which all the birds in the world sing, and this also is procured by the help of the green and winged horse. A third time the old trot comes and says to the girl, “You must get Tzitzinæna to explain the language of birds.” The eldest brother starts off on the horse, and arriving at the dwelling of Tzitzinæna he calls her name, whereupon he, with the horse, is turned to stone up to the knees; and calling again on her they become marble to the waist. Then the youth burns a hair he had got from the monk, who instantly appears, calls out “Tzitzinaena,” and she comes forth, and with the water of immortality the youth and horse are disenchanted. After the youth has returned home with Tzitzinæna, the King sees the three children and thinks them like those his wife had promised to bear him. He invites them to dinner, at which Tzitzinæna warns them of poisoned meats, some of which they give to a dog they had brought with them, and the animal dies on the spot. They ask the King to dine at their house and he goes. Tzitzinæna by clapping her hands thrice procures a royal feast for him; then, having induced the King to send for his wife, she tells the whole story of the mother-in-law’s evil doings, and shows the King that “Sun,” “Moon” and “Star” are his own children. The King’s mother and the old woman are torn to pieces.
In Albania, as might be expected, our story is orally current in a form which resembles both the Greek version, as above, and the tale of Arab Zandyk, more especially the latter; and it may have been derived from the Turks, though I am not aware that the story has been found in Turkish. This is an abstract of the second of M. Dozon’s “Comes Albanais” (Paris, 1881), a most entertaining collection:
There was a King who had three daughters. When he died, his successor proclaimed by the crier an order prohibiting the use of lights during the night of his accession. Having made this announcement, the King disguised himself and went forth alone. After walking about from place to place he came to the abode of the daughters of the late King, and going up close to it he overheard their conversation. This is what the eldest was saying, “If the King took me for his wife, I would make him a carpet upon which the whole of his army could be seated and there would still be room to spare.” Then said the second, “If the King would take me for his wife, I would make him a tent under which the whole army could be sheltered, and room would still remain.” Lastly, the youngest said, “If the King should espouse me, I would bring him a son and a daughter with a star on their foreheads and a moon on their shoulders.”
The King, who had not lost a word of this conversation, sent for the sisters on the morrow and married all three.432 The eldest, as she had declared, made a carpet on which the whole army was seated, and yet there was room to spare. The second, in her turn, made a tent under which all the army found shelter. As to the youngest, after a time, she grew great, and her confinement approached. The day she was delivered the King was absent, and on his return he inquired what she had given birth to. The two elder sisters replied, “A little cat and a little mouse.” On hearing this the King ordered the mother to be placed upon the staircase, and commanded every one who entered to spit upon her.
Now she had given birth to a boy and a girl, but her two sisters, after having shut them up in a box, sent them away by a servant to be exposed on the bank of the river, and a violent wind afterwards arising, the box was drifted to the other side. There was a mill on that side, where dwelt an old man and his wife. The old man having found the box brought it home. They opened it, and discovered the boy and girl, with a star on their foreheads and a moon on their shoulders. Astonished thereat, they took them out and brought the children up as well as they could.
Time passed away; the old woman died, and soon after came the turn of the old man. Before dying he called the youth to him and said, “Know, my son, that in such a place is a cave where there is a bridle which belongs to me. That bridle is thine, but avoid opening the cave before forty days have elapsed, if you wish the bridle to do whatever you command.” The forty days having expired, the young man went to the cave, and on opening it found the bridle. He took it in his hand and said to it, “I want two horses,” and in a moment two horses appeared. The brother and sister mounted them, and in the twinkling of an eye they arrived in their father’s country. There the young man opened a café, and his sister remained secluded at home.
As the café was the best in the country, the King came to hear of it, and when he entered it he saw the youth, who had a star on his forehead. He thought him so beautiful [and lingered so long] that he returned late to the palace, when he was asked why he had tarried so late. He replied, that a young lad had opened a café, and was so beautiful that he had never seen his equal; and, what was most extraordinary, there was a star on his brow. The sisters no sooner heard these words of the King than they understood that he referred to their younger sister’s son. Full of rage and spite, they quickly devised a plan of causing his death. What did they do? They sent to his sister an old woman, who said to her, “Thy brother, O my daughter, can hardly love thee, for he is all day at the café and has a good time of it, while he leaves thee here alone. If he truly loves thee, tell him to bring thee a flower from the Belle of the Earth, so that thou too mayest have something to divert thyself with.” On returning home that evening the young man found his sister quite afflicted, and asked the cause of her grief. “Why should I not grieve?” said she “You leave me alone, secluded here, while you go about as your fancy directs. If you love me, go to the Belle of the Earth and bring a flower, so that I too may be amused.” “Console yourself,” replied he, and at once gave orders to the bridle. An enormous horse appeared, which he mounted and set off.
As he journeyed, a lamia presented herself before him, and said, “I have a great desire to eat thee, but thou also excitest pity, and so I leave thee thy life.” The young man then inquired of her how he could find the Belle of the Earth. “I know nothing about it, my son,” replied the lamia; “but go ask my second sister.” So he rode off and came to her, and she drew near, intending to devour him, but seeing him so beautiful, she asked where he was going. He told his story and said, “Do you know the way to the Belle of the Earth’” But she in her turn sent him to her elder sister, who on seeing him rushed out to eat him, but like the others, was touched by his comeliness and spared him; and when he inquired after the Belle of the Earth, “Take this handkerchief,” said she, “and when thou arrivest at her abode, use it to open the door. Inside thou wilt see a lion and a lamb; throw brains to the lion and grass to the lamb.” So he went forward and did all the lamia advised. He tried the door and it opened; threw brains to the lion and grass to the lamb, and they allowed him to pass. He went in and pulled a flower, and he had no sooner done so than he found himself at his own door.
Great was his sister’s joy as she began playing with the flower. But on the morrow the two sisters sent the old woman to her again. “Has he brought thee the flower?” she asked. “Yes, he has.” Thou art content,” said the old hag; “but if thou hadst the handkerchief of the Belle of the Earth, it would be quite another thing.” When her brother came home he found her in tears, and in reply to his inquiries, “What pleasure,” said she —“what pleasure can this flower give me? So long as I have not the handkerchief of the Belle of the Earth I shall not be happy.” Then he, desirous that his sister should have no cause for grief, mounted his horse, and in the same manner as he had obtained the flower, possessed himself of the handkerchief and brought it home to his sister.
On the morrow, when the young man had gone to his café, the old witch again visited his sister, who informed her that her brother had brought her the handkerchief. “How happy,” said the sorceress —“how happy thou art in having a brother who brings thee whatever thou desirest! But if thou cost wish to spend thy life like a pasha’s wife, thou must also obtain the owner of that handkerchief.”
To please his sister, the young man once more sets out, and coming to the eldest of the lamiae and telling her his errand, “O my son,” said she, “thou canst go there, but as to carrying away the mistress of the handkerchief, that is not so easy. However, try in some way to obtain possession of her ring, for therein lies all her power.” So he continues his journey, and after passing the lion and the lamb he comes to the chamber of the Belle of the Earth. He finds her asleep, and approaching her noiselessly draws the ring from her finger, upon which she awakes and discovering that she had not her ring, there was no alternative but to submit to his will. They set out together and in the twinkling of an eye arrived at the young man’s house. On perceiving them the sister was overcome with joy.
It happened next day that the King again went to the café, and on his return home ordered supper to be prepared, saying that he had invited the young man and all his friends. The sisters instructed the cooks to put poison in the food, which they did accordingly. At nightfall the young man arrived, accompanied by the Belle of the Earth, whom he had married, and his sister. But none of them, notwithstanding the entreaties of the King, would touch any food, for the Belle of the Earth had revealed to them that the meats were poisoned: they merely ate a few mouthfuls out of the King’s mess.
Supper over, the King invited each one to tell a story, and when it came to the young man’s turn, he recounted the whole story of his adventures. Then the King recognised in him the son of his fairest wife, whom, deceived by the lies of her sisters, he had exposed on the staircase. So he instantly ordered the two sisters to be seized and cut to pieces, and he took back his wife. As for the young man, he became his heir. He grew old and prospered.
The points of difference between, and the relative merits of, Galland’s story and Straparola’s
and whence both were probably obtained, will be considered later on, as several other versions or variants remain to be noticed or cited, before attempting a comparative analysis, not the least interesting of which is a
In “Melusine,” for 1878, colt 206 ff., M. Luzel gives a Breton version, under the title of “Les Trois Filles du Boulanger; ou, L’Eau qui dense, la Pomme qui chante, et l’Oiseau de Vérité,” which does not appear to have been derived from Galland’s story, although it corresponds with it closely in the first part. A prince overhears the conversation of three daughters of an old baker, who is a widower. The eldest says that she loves the king’s gardener, the second, that she loves the king’s valet, and the youngest says the prince is her love, to whom she would bear two boys, each with a star of gold on his brow, and a girl, with a star of silver. The father chides them for talking nonsense and sends them to bed. The following day the prince sends for the girls to come to the palace one after the other, and having questioned them, tells the youngest that he desires to see her father. When she delivers the royal message the old baker begins to shake in his shoes, and exclaims, “I told you that your frivolous remarks would come to the ears of the prince, and now he sends for me to have me punished, without a doubt.” “No, no, dear father; go to the palace and fear nothing.” He goes, and, to be brief, the three marriages duly take place. The sisters married to the royal gardener and valet soon become jealous of the young queen, and when they find she is about to become a mother they consult a fairy, who advises them to gain over the midwife and get her to substitute a little dog and throw the child into the river, which is done accordingly, when the first son with the gold star is born. For the second son, a dog is also substituted, and the king, as on the former occasion, says, “God’s will be done: take care of the poor creature.” But when the little girl with the silver star is smuggled away and the king is shown a third puppy as the queen’s offspring, he is enraged. “They’ll call me the father of dogs!” he exclaims, “and not without cause.” He orders the queen to be shut up in a tower and fed on bread and water. The children are picked up by a gardener, who has a garden close to the river, and brought up by his wife as their own. In course of time the worthy couple die, and the king causes the children to be brought to the palace (how he came to know of them the story-teller does not inform us), and as they were very pretty and had been well brought up, he was greatly pleased with them. Every Sunday they went to grand mass in the church, each having a ribbon on the brow to conceal the stars. All the folk were astonished at their beauty.
One day, when the king was out hunting, an old woman came into the kitchen of the palace, where the sister happened to be, and exclaimed, “O how cold I am,” and she trembled and her teeth chattered. “Come near the fire, my good mother,” said the little girl. “Blessings on you, my child! How beautiful you are! If you had but the Water that dances, the Apple that sings, and the Bird of Truth, you’d not have your equal on the earth.” “Yes, but how to obtain these wonders?” “You have two brothers who can procure them for you,” and so saying, the old woman went away. When she told her brothers what the old woman had said, the eldest before setting out in quest of the three treasures leaves a poignard which as long as it can be drawn out of its sheath would betoken his welfare. One day it can’t be drawn out, so the second brother goes off, leaving with his sister a rosary, as in Galland. When she finds the beads won’t run on the string, she goes herself, on horseback, as a cavalier. She comes to a large plain, and in a hollow tree sees a little old man with a beard of great length, which she trims for him. The old man tells her that 60 leagues distant is an inn by the roadside; she may enter it, and having refreshed herself with food and drink leave her horse there, and promise to pay on her return After quitting the inn she will see a very high mountain, to climb which will require hands and feet, and she’ll have to encounter a furious storm of hail and snow, it will be bitterly cold: take care and not lose courage, but mount on. She’ll see on either side a number of stone pillars — persons like herself who have been thus transformed because they lost heart. On the summit is a plain, bordered with flowers, blooming as in May. She will see a gold seat under an apple-tree and should sit down and make it appear as if asleep; presently the bird will descend from branch to branch and enter the cage; quickly close it on the bird, for it is the Bird of Truth. Cut a branch of the tree, with an apple on it, for it is the Apple that sings. Lastly, there is also the fountain of water which dances: fill a flask from the fountain and in descending the hill sprinkle a few drops of the water on the stone pillars and the enchanted young princes and knights will come to life again. Such were the instructions of the little old man, for which the princess thanked him and went on her way. Arriving at the summit of the mountain, she discovered the cage and sitting down under the tree feigned to be asleep, when presently the merle entered and she at once rose up and closed it. The merle, seeing that he was a prisoner, said, “You have captured me, daughter of the King of France. Many others have tried to seize me, but none has been able till now, and you must have been counselled by some one.” The princess then cut a branch of the tree with an apple on it, filled her flask with water from the fountain that danced, and as she went down the hill sprinkled a few drops on the stone pillars, which were instantly turned into princes, dukes, barons, and knights, and last of all her two brothers came to life, but they did not know her. All pressed about the princess, some saying, “Give me the Water which dances,” others, “Give me the Apple which sings,” and others, “Give me the Bird of Truth.” But she departed quickly, carrying with her the three treasures, and passing the inn where she had left her horse she paid her bill and returned home, where she arrived long before her brothers. When at length they came home she embraced them, saying, “Ah, my poor brothers! How much anxiety you have caused me! How long your journey has lasted! But God be praised that you are back here again.” “Alas, my poor sister, we have indeed remained a long time away, and after all have not succeeded in our quest. But we may consider ourselves fortunate in having been able to return.” “How!” said the princess, “do you not bring me the Water which dances, the Apple which sings, and the Bird of Truth?” “Alas! my poor sister, a young knight who was a stranger to us carried them all away — curse the rascal.” The old king who had no children (or rather, who believed he had none) loved the two brothers and the sister very much and was highly delighted to see them back again. He caused a grand feast to be prepared, to which he invited princes, dukes, marquises, barons, and generals. Towards the end of the banquet the young girl placed on the table the Water, the Apple, and the Bird, and bade each do its duty, whereupon the Water began to dance, and the Apple began to sing, and the Bird began to hop about the table, and all present, in ecstasy, mouth and eyes wide open, looked and listened to these wonders. Never before had they seen such a sight. “To whom belong these marvels?” said the king when at length he was able to speak. “To me, sire,” replied the young girl. “Is that so?” said the King. “And from whom did you get them?” “I myself procured them with much trouble,” answered she. Then the two brothers knew that it was their sister who had delivered them. As to the king, he nearly lost his head in his joy and admiration. “My crown and my kingdom for your wonders, and you yourself, my young girl, shall be my queen,” he exclaimed. “Patience for a little, sire,” said she, “until you have heard my bird speak — the Bird of Truth, for he has important things to reveal to you. My little bird, now speak the truth.” “I consent,” replied the bird; “but let no one go out of this room,” and all the doors were closed. The old sorceress of a midwife and one of the king’s sisters- in-law were present, and became very uneasy at hearing these words. “Come now, my bird,” then said the girl, “speak the truth,” and this is what the bird said: “Twenty years ago, sire, your wife was shut up in a tower, abandoned by everybody, and you have long believed her to be dead. She has been accused unjustly.” The old midwife and the king’s sister-in-law now felt indisposed and wished to leave the room. “Let no one depart hence,” said the king. “Continue to speak the truth, my little bird.” “You have had two sons and a daughter, sire,” the bird went on to say —“all three born of your lady, and here they are! Remove their bandages and you will see that each of them has a star on the forehead.” They removed the bandages and saw a gold star on the brow of each of the boys and a silver star on the girl’s brow. “The authors of all the evil,” continued the bird, “are your two sisters-in-law and this midwife — this sorceress of the devil. They have made you believe that your wife only gave birth to little dogs, and your poor children were exposed on the Seine as soon as they were born. When the midwife — that sorceress of hell — learned that the children had been saved and afterwards brought to the palace, she sought again to destroy them. Penetrating one day into the palace, disguised as a beggar, and affecting to be perishing from cold and hunger, she incited in the mind of the princess the desire to possess the Dancing-Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth — myself. Her two brothers went, one after the other, in quest of these things, and the sorceress took very good care that they should never return. Nor would they have returned, if their sister had not succeeded in delivering them after great toil and trouble.” As the bird ended his story, the king became unconscious, and when he revived he went himself to fetch the queen from the tower. He soon returned with her to the festive chamber, holding her by the hand. She was beautiful and gracious as ever, and having ate and drank a little, she died on the spot. The king, distraught with grief and anger, ordered a furnace to be heated, and threw into it his sister-in-law and the midwife —“ce tison de l’enfer!” As to the princess and her two brothers, I think they made good marriages all three, and as to the bird, they do not say if it continues still to speak the truth; —“mats je présume que oui, puisque ce n’était pas un homme!”
It would indeed be surprising did we not find our story popularly known throughout Germany in various forms. Under the title of “The Three Little Birds” a version is given in Grimm’s K. u. H. M. (No. 96, vol. i. of Mrs. Hunt’s English translation), which reproduces the chief particulars of Galland’s tale with at least one characteristic German addition;
A king, who dwelt on the Keuterberg, was out hunting one day, when he was seen by three young girls who were watching their cows on the mountain, and the eldest, pointing to him, calls out to the two others, “If I do not get that one, I’ll have none;” the second, from another part of the hill, pointing to the one who was on the king’s right hand, cries “If I don’t get that one, I’ll have none;” and the youngest, pointing to the one who was on the king’s left hand, shouts, “And if I don’t get him, I’ll have none.” When the king has returned home he sends for the three girls, and after questioning them as to what they had said to each other about himself and his two ministers, he takes the eldest girl for his own wife and marries the two others to the ministers. The king was very fond of his wife, for she was fair and beautiful of face, and when he had to go abroad for a season he left her in charge of the two sisters who were the wives of his ministers, as she was about to become a mother. Now the two sisters had no children, and when the queen gave birth to a boy who “brought a red star into the world with him,” they threw him into the river, whereupon a little bird flew up into the air, singing:
“To thy death art thou sped,
Until God’s word be said.
In the white lily bloom,
Brave boy, is thy tomb.”
When the king came home they told him his queen had been delivered of a dog, and he said, “What God does is well done.” The same thing happens the two following years: when the queen had another little boy, the sisters substituted a dog and the king said “What God does is well done;” but when she was delivered of a beautiful little girl, and they told the king she had this time borne a cat, he grew angry and ordered the poor queen to be thrown into prison. On each occasion a fisherman who dwelt near the river drew the child from the water soon after it was thrown in, and having no children, his wife lovingly reared them. When they had grown up, the eldest once went with some other boys to fish, and they would not have him with them, saying to him, “Go away, foundling.” The boy, much grieved, goes to the fisherman and asks whether he is a foundling, and the old man tells him the whole story, upon which the youth, spite of the fisherman’s entreaties, at once sets off to seek his father. After walking for many days he came to a great river, by the side of which was an old woman fishing. He accosted her very respectfully, and she took him on her back and carried him across the water. When a year had gone by, the second boy set out in search of his brother, and the same happened to him as to the elder one. Then the girl went to look for her two brothers, and coming to the water she said to the old woman, “Good day, mother. May God help you with your fishing.” (The brothers had said to her that she would seek long enough before she caught any fish, and she replied, “And thou wilt seek long enough before thou findest thy father”— hence their failure in their quest.)
When the old woman heard that, she became quite friendly, and carried her over the water, gave her a wand, and said to her, “Go, my daughter, ever onwards by this road and when you come to a great black dog, you must pass it silently and boldly, without either laughing or looking at it. Then you will come to a great high castle, on the threshold of which you must let the wand fall, and go straight through the castle and out again on the other side. There you will see an old fountain out of which a large tree has grown whereon hangs a bird in a cage, which you must take down. Take likewise a glass of water out of the fountain, and with these two things go back by the same way. Pick up the wand again from the threshold and take it with you, and when you again pass by the dog strike him in the face with it, but be sure that you hit him, and then just come back here to me.” The maiden found everything exactly as the old woman had said, and on her way hack she found her two brothers who had sought each other over half the world. They went together where the black dog was lying on the road; she struck it in the face and it turned into a handsome prince, who went with them to the river. There the old woman was still standing. She rejoiced much to see them again, and carried them all over the water, and then she too went away, for now she was freed. The others, however, went to the old fisherman, and all were glad that they had found each other again, and they hung the bird in its cage on the wall. But the second son could not settle at home, and took his cross-bow and went a-hunting. When he was tired he took his flute and played on it. The king happened to be also hunting, and hearing the music went up to the youth and said, “Who has given thee leave to hunt here?” “O. no one.” “To whom dost thou belong, then?” “I am the fisherman’s son.” “But he has no children.” “If thou wilt not believe it, come with me.” The king did so, and questioned the fisherman, who told the whole story, and the little bird on the wall began to sing:
“The mother sits alone
There in the prison small;
O King of the royal blood,
These are thy children all.
The sisters twain, so false,
They wrought the children woe,
There in the waters deep,
Where the fishers come and go.”
Then the king took the fisherman, the three little children, and the bird back with him to the castle, and ordered his wife to be taken out of prison and brought before him. She had become very ill and weak, but her daughter gave her some of the water of the fountain to drink and she became strong and healthy. But the two false sisters were burnt, and the maiden was married to the Prince.
Even in Iceland, as already stated, the same tale has long cheered the hardy peasant’s fire-side circle, while the “wind without did roar and rustle.” That it should have reached that out-of-the-way country through Galland’s version is surely inconceivable, notwithstanding the general resemblance which it bears to the “Histoire des S�urs jalouses de leur Cadette.” It is found in Powell and Magnússon’s “Legends of Iceland,” second series, and as that excellent work is not often met with (and why so, I cannot understand), moreover, as the story is told with much naïveté, I give it here in full:
Not very far from a town where dwelt the king lived once upon a time a farmer. He was well to do and had three daughters; the eldest was twenty years of age, the two others younger, but both marriageable. Once, when they were walking outside their father’s farm, they saw the king coming riding on horseback with two followers, his secretary and his bootmaker. The king was unmarried, as were also those two men. When they saw him, the eldest of the sisters said, “I do not wish anything higher than to be the wife of the king’s shoemaker.” Said the second, “And I of the king’s secretary.” Then the youngest said? “I wish that I were the wife of the king himself.” Now the king heard that they were talking together, and said to his followers, “I will go to the girls yonder and know what it is they were talking about. It seemed to me that I heard one of them say, ‘The king himself."’ His followers said that what the girls had been chattering about could hardly be of much importance. The king did not heed this, however, but declared that they would all go to the girls and have a talk with them. This they did. The king then asked what they had been talking about a moment ago, when he and his men passed them. The sisters were unwilling to tell the truth, but being pressed hard by the king, did so at last. Now as the damsels pleased the king, and he saw that they were both handsome and fair-spoken particularly the youngest of them, he said that all should be as they had wished it. The sisters were amazed at this, but the king’s will must be done.
So the three sisters were married, each to the husband she had chosen. But when the youngest sister had become queen, the others began to cast on her looks of envy and hatred, and would have her, at any cost, dragged down from her lofty position. And they laid a plot for the accomplishment of this their will. When the queen was going to be confined for the first time, her sisters got leave to act as her midwives. But as soon as the child was born they hid it away, and ordered it to be thrown into a slough into which all the filth was cast. But the man to whom they had entrusted this task could not bring himself to do it, so put the child on the bank of the slough, thinking that some one might find it and save its life. And so it fell out; for an old man chanced to pass the slough soon afterwards and finding a crying child on the bank, thought it a strange find, took it up and brought it to his home, cherishing it as he could. The queen’s sisters took a whelp and showed it to the king as his queen’s offspring. The king was grieved at this tale, but, being as fond of the queen as of his own life, he restrained his anger and punished her not.
At the second and third confinement of the queen her sisters played the same trick: they exposed the queen’s children in order to have them drowned in the slough. The man however, always left them on the bank, and it so happened that the same old earl always passed by and took up the children, and carried them home, and brought them up as best he could. The queen’s sisters said that the second time the queen was confined she had given birth to a kitten, and the third time, to a log of wood. At this the king waxed furiously wroth, and ordered the queen to be thrown into the house where he kept a lion as he did not wish this monster to fill his kingdom with deformities. And the sisters thought that they had managed their boat well and were proud of their success. The lion, however, did not devour the queen, but even gave her part of his food and was friendly towards her and thus the queen lived with the lion, a wretched enough life without anybody’s knowing anything about it.
Now the story turns to the old man who fostered the king’s children. The eldest of these, a boy, he called Vilhjámr, the second, also a boy, Sigurdr; the third child was a girl and her name was unknown. All that came to him, or with whom he met, the old man would ask if they knew nothing of the children he had found on the bank of the slough. But no one seemed to have the faintest notion about their birth or descent. As the children grew up they were hopeful and fine-looking. The earl had now waxed very old, and, expecting his end, he gave the children this rede, always to ask every one to whom they spoke for news of their family and birth, in order that they might perchance be able at last to trace out the truth. He himself told them all he knew about the matter. After this the old man died, and the children followed closely his advice. Once there came to them an old man, of whom they asked the same questions as of all others. He said he could not give them any hints on the matter himself, but that he could point out one to them who was able to do so. He told them that a short way from their farm was a large stone, whereupon was always sitting a bird which could both understand and speak the tongue of men. It would be best for them, he went on, to find this bird; but there was a difficulty in the matter to be got over first, for many had gone there but none had ever returned. He said that many king’s children had gone to this bird in order to know their future fate, but they had all come short in the very thing needed. He told them that whosoever wanted to mount the stone must be so steady as never to look back, whatever he might hear or see, or whatever wonders seemed to take place around the rock. All who did not succeed in this were changed into stones, together with everything they had with them. This steadiness no one had had yet, but whosoever had it could easily mount the rock, and having once done so would be able to quicken all the others who have been turned to stone there. For the top of the rock was flat, and there was a trap-door on it, wherein the bird was sitting. Underneath the trap-door was water, the nature of which was that it would turn all the stones back to life again. The old man ended by saying, “Now he who succeeds in getting to the top is allowed by the bird to take the water and sprinkle the stone-changed folk, and call them to life again, just as they were before.” This the king’s children thought no hard task. The brothers, however, were the most outspoken about the easiness of the thing. They thanked the old man much for his story and took leave of him.
Not long after this, Vilhjámr, the eldest brother, went to the rock. But before he left he said to his brother, that if three drops of blood should fall on his knife at table while he was away, Sigurdr should at once come to the rock, for then it would be sure that he fared like the others. So Vilhjámr went away, following the old man’s directions, and nothing further is told of him for a while. But after three days, or about the time when his brother should have reached the stone, three drops of blood fell upon Sigurdr’s knife, once, while at table. He was startled at this and told his sister that he must needs leave her, in order to help his brother. He made the same agreement with his sister as Vilhjámr had before made with him. Then he went away, and, to make the story short, all came to the same issue with him as with his brother, and the blood-drops fell on his sister’s knife, at the time when Sigurdr should have reached the stone.
Then the damsel went herself, to see what luck she might have. She succeeded in finding the rock, and when she came there she was greatly struck with the number of stones that surrounded it, in every shape and position. Some had the form of chests, others of various animals, while some again were in other forms. She paid no heed to all this, but going straight forward to the great rock began climbing it. Then she heard, all of a sudden, behind her a loud murmur of human voices, all talking, one louder than another, and amongst the number she heard those of her brothers. But she paid no heed to this, and took good care never to look back, in spite of all she heard going on behind her. Then she got at last to the top of the rock, and the bird greatly praised her steadiness and constancy and promised both to tell her anything she chose to ask him and to assist her in every way he could. First, she would have the surrounding stones recalled to their natural shapes and life. This the bird granted her, pointing to one of the stones and saying, “Methinks you would free that one from his spell, if you knew who he was.” So the king’s daughter sprinkled water over all the stones and they returned to life again, and thanked her for their release with many fair words. Next she asked the bird who were the parents of herself and her brothers, and to whom they might trace their descent. The bird said that they were the children of the king of that country, and told her how the queen’s sisters had acted by them at their birth, and last of all told her how her mother was in the lion’s den, and how she was nearer dead than alive from sorrow and want of good food and comfort.
The stone which the bird had pointed out to the princess was a king’s son, as noble as he was handsome. He cast affectionate looks to his life-giver and it was plain that each loved the other. It was he who had brought the greater part of the chest-shaped stones thither, the which were coffers full of gold and jewels. When the bird had told to every one that which each wanted to know, all the company of the disenchanted scattered, the three children and the wealthy prince going together. When they came home the first thing they did was to break into the lion’s den. They found their mother lying in a swoon, for she had lost her senses on hearing the house broken into. They took her away, and she soon afterwards recovered. Then they dressed her in fitting attire, and taking her to the palace asked audience of the king. This granted, Vilhjámr, Sigurdr, and their sister declared to the king that they were his children and that they had brought with them their mother from the lion’s den. The king was amazed at this story and at all that had happened. The sisters of the queen were sent for and questioned, and, having got into scrapes by differing in accounts, confessed at last their misdeed and told the truth. They were thrown before the same lion that the queen had been given to, and it tore them to pieces immediately and ate them up, hair and all.
Now the queen took her former rank, and a banquet was held in joy at this happy turn of affairs, and for many days the palace resounded with the glee of the feast. And at the end of it the foreign prince wooed the king’s daughter and gained easily her hand, and thus the banquet was begun afresh and became the young people’s marriage-feast. Such glee has never been witnessed in any other kingdom. After the feast the strange prince returned to his home with his bride and became king after his father. Vilhjámr also married and took the kingdom after his father. Sigurdr married a king’s daughter abroad, and became king after the death of his father-in-law; and all of them lived in luck and prosperity. And now is the story ended.
From bleak Iceland to sunny India is certainly a “far cry,” but we had already got half-way thither in citing the Egypto-Arabian versions, and then turned westwards and northwards. We must now, however, go all the way to Bengal for our next form of the story, which is much simpler in construction than any of the foregoing versions, and may be considered as a transition stage of the tale in its migration to Europe. This is an abridgment of the story — not of Envious Sisters but of jealous co-wives — from the Rev. Lal Bahari Day’s “Folk-Tales of Bengal,”434 a work of no small value to students of the genealogy of popular fictions:
A certain King had six wives, none of whom had children, in spite of doctors and all sorts of doctors’ stuff. He was advised by his ministers to take a seventh wife. There was in the city a poor woman who earned her livelihood by gathering cow-dung from the fields kneading it into cakes, which, after drying in the sun, she sold for fuel. She had a very beautiful daughter, who had contracted friendship with three girls much above her rank namely, the daughter of the King’s minister, the daughter of a rich merchant, and the daughter of the King’s chaplain. It happened one day that all four were bathing together in a tank near the palace, and the King overheard them conversing as follows: Said the minister’s daughter, “The man who marries me won’t need to buy me any clothes, for the cloth I once put on never gets soiled, never gets old, and never tears.” The merchant’s daughter said, “And my husband will also be a happy man, for the fuel which I use in cooking never turns to ashes, but serves from day to day, and from year to year.” Quoth the chaplain’s daughter, “My husband too will be a happy man, for when once I cook rice it never gets finished; no matter how much we may eat, the original quantity always remains in the pot.”441 Then said the poor woman’s daughter, “And the man who marries me will also be happy, for I shall give birth to twin children, a son and a daughter; the girl will be divinely beautiful, and the boy will have a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands.”
The King didn’t care to have any of the three young ladies, but resolved at once to marry the fourth girl, who would present him with such extraordinary twin children, notwithstanding her humble birth, and their nuptials were celebrated in due form, much to the chagrin of his six wives. Some time after the King had occasion to go for six months to another part of his dominions, and when about to set out he told his new wife that he expected her to be confined before the period of his absence was expired, and that he would like to be present with her at the time, lest her enemies (her co-wives) might do her some injury. So giving her a golden bell he bade her hang it in her room, and when the pains of labour came on to ring it, and he would be with her in a moment, no matter where he might be at the time; but she must only ring it when her labour pains began. The six other wives had overheard all this, and the day after the King had departed went to the new wife’s room and affected to admire the golden bell, and asked her where she got it and what was its use. The unsuspecting creature told them its purpose, upon which they all exclaimed that it was impossible the King could hear it ring at the distance of hundreds of miles, and besides, how could the King travel such a distance in the twinkling of an eye? They urged her to ring the bell and convince herself that what the King had said to her was all nonsense. So she rang the bell, and the King instantly appeared, and seeing her going about as usual, he asked her why she had summoned him before her time. Without saying anything about the six other wives, she replied that she had rung the bell merely out of curiosity to know if what he had said was true. The King was angry, and, telling her distinctly she was not to ring the bell until the labour pains came upon her, went away again. Some weeks after the six wives once more induced her to ring the bell, and when the King appeared and found she was not about to be confined and that she had been merely making another trial of the bell (for, as on the former occasion, she did not say that her co-wives had instigated her), he was greatly enraged, and told her that even should she ring when in the throes of childbirth he should not come to her, and then went away. At last the day of her confinement arrived, and when she rang the bell the King did not come.435 The six jealous wives seeing this went to her and said that it was not customary for the ladies of the palace to be confined in the royal apartments, and that she must go to a hut near the stables. They then sent for the midwife of the palace, and heavily bribed her to make away with the infant the moment it was born. The seventh wife gave birth, as she had promised, to a son who had a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands, and also to an uncommonly beautiful girl. The midwife had come provided with a couple of newly-littered pups, which she set before the mother, saying, “You have given birth to these,” and took away the twin-children in an earthen vessel, while the mother was insensible. The King, though he was angry with his seventh wife, yet recollecting that she was to give birth to an heir to his throne, changed his mind, and came to see her the next morning. The pups were produced before the King as the offspring of his new wife, and great was his anger and vexation. He gave orders that she should be expelled from the palace, clothed in leather, and employed in the market-place to drive away crows and keep off dogs, all of which was done accordingly.
The midwife placed the vessel containing the twins along with the unburnt clay vessels which a potter had set in order and then gone to sleep, intending to get up during the night and light his furnace; in this way she thought the little innocents would be reduced to ashes. It happened, however, that the potter and his wife overslept themselves that night, and it was near daybreak when the woman awoke and roused her husband. She then hastened to the furnace, and to her surprise found all the pots thoroughly baked, although no fire had been applied to them. Wondering at such good luck, she summoned her husband, who was equally astonished and pleased, and attributed it all to some benevolent deity. In turning over the pots he came upon the one in which the twins were placed, and the wife looking on them as a gift from heaven (for she had no children) carried them into the house and gave out to the neighbours that they had been borne by herself. The children grew in stature and in strength and when they played in the fields were the admiration of every one that saw them. They were about twelve years of age when the potter died, and his wife threw herself on the pyre and was burnt with her husband’s body. The boy with the moon on his forehead (which he always kept concealed with a turban, lest it should attract notice) and his beautiful sister now broke up the potter’s establishment, sold his wheel and pots and pans, and went to the bazar in the King’s city, which they had no sooner entered than it was lit up brilliantly. The shopkeepers thought them divine beings and built a house for them in the bazar. And when they used to ramble about they were always followed at a distance by the woman clothed in leather who was appointed by the King to drive away the crows, and by some strange impulse, she also used to hang about their house.
The youth presently bought a horse and went hunting in the neighbouring jungles. It happened one day, while following the chase, that the King met him, and, struck with his beauty, felt an unaccountable yearning for him.436 As a deer went past the youth shot an arrow and in so doing his turban fell off, on which a bright light, like that of the moon, was seen shining on his forehead. When the King perceived this, it brought to his mind the son with the moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands who was to have been born of his seventh queen, and would have spoken with the youth, but he immediately galloped off. When the King reached home his six wives observing his sadness asked him its cause, and he told them of the youth he had seen in the forest with a moon on his forehead. They began to wonder if the twins were not still alive, and sending for the midwife closely questioned her as to the fate of the children. She stoutly declared that she had herself seen them burnt to ashes, but she would find out who the youth was whom the King had met while hunting. She soon ascertained that two strangers were living in a house in the bazar which the shopkeepers had built for them, and when she entered the house the girl was alone, her brother having gone into the jungle to hunt. Pretending to be her aunt, the old woman said to her, “My dear child, you are so beautiful, you require only the kataki437 flower to properly set off your charms. You should tell your brother to plant a row of that flower in your courtyard.” “I never saw that flower,” said the girl “Of course not; how could you? It does not grow in this country, but on the other side of the ocean. Your brother may try and get it for you, if you ask him.” This suggestion the old trot made in the hope that the lad would lose his life in venturing to obtain the flower. When he returned and his sister told him of the visit of their aunt and asked him to get her the kataki flower, on which she had set her heart, he at once consented, albeit he thought the woman had imposed upon his sister by calling herself their aunt.
Next morning he rode off on his fleet horse, and arriving on the borders of an immense forest he saw a number of rákshasí438 roaming about, he went aside and shot with his arrows some deer and rhinoceroses and then approaching the rákshasís called out, “O auntie dear, your nephew is here.” A huge rákshasí strode towards him and said, “O. you are the youth with the moon on your forehead and stars on the palms of your hands. We were all expecting you, but as you have called me aunt, I will not eat you. What is it you want? Have you brought anything for me to eat?” The youth gave her the game he had killed, and she began devouring it. After swallowing all the carcases she said, “Well, what do you want?” He answered, “I want some kataki flowers for my sister.” She told him it would be very difficult for him to get them, as they were guarded by seven hundred rákshasas, but if he was determined to attempt it, he had better first go to his uncle on the north side of the Jungle. He goes, and greets the rákshasa, calling him uncle, and having regaled him with deer and rhinoceroses as he had done his “aunt,” the rákshasa tells him that in order to obtain the flower he must go through an impenetrable forest of kachiri,439 and say to it “O mother kachiri, make way for me, else I perish,” upon which a passage will be opened for him. Next he will come to the ocean, which he must petition in the same terms, and it would make a way for him. After crossing the ocean he’ll come to the gardens where the kataki blooms. The forest opens a passage for the youth, and the ocean stands up like two walls on either side of him, so that he passes over dryshod.440 He enters the gardens and finds himself in a grand palace which appeared unoccupied. In one of the apartments he sees a young damsel of more than earthly beauty asleep on a golden bed, and going near discovers a stick of gold lying near her head and a stick of silver near her feet. Taking them in his hand, by accident the gold stick fell upon the feet of the sleeping beauty, when she instantly awoke, and told him she knew that he was the youth with the moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands; that the seven hundred rákshasas who guarded the kataki flowers were then out hunting, but would return by sundown, and should they find him they’d eat him. A rákshasí had brought her from her father’s palace, and is so fond of her that she will not allow her to return home. By means of the gold and silver sticks the rákshasí kills her when she goes off in the morning, and by means of them also she is revived when she comes back in the evening. He had better flee and save his life. But the youth told her he would not go away without the kataki flower, moreover, that he would take her also with him. They spent the day in walking about the gardens, and when it was drawing near the time for the return of the rákshasas, the youth concealed himself under a great heap of the kataki flower which was in one of the rooms, having first “killed” the damsel by touching her head with the golden stick. The return of the seven hundred rákshasas was like the noise of a mighty tempest. One of them entered the damsel’s room and revived her, saying at the same time, “I smell a human being!”441 The damsel replied, “How can a human being come to this place?” and the rákshasa was satisfied. During the night the damsel worms out of the rákshasí who was her mistress the secret that the lives of the seven hundred rákshasas depended on the lives of a male and female bee, which were in a wooden box at the bottom of a tank, and that the only person who could seize and kill those bees was a youth with a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands — but there could be no such youth, and so their lives were safe.442 When the rákshasas had all gone out as usual next morning, the damsel, having been revived by the youth, told him how the demons could be killed, and, to be brief, he was not slow to put her directions into practice. After the death of the seven hundred rákshasas, the youth took some of the kataki flowers and left the palace accompanied by the beautiful damsel, whose name was Pushpavati. They passed through the ocean and forest of kachiri in safety, and arriving at the house in the bazár the youth with the moon on his forehead presented the kataki flower to his sister. Going out to hunt the next day, he met the king, and his turban again falling off as he shot an arrow, the King saw the moon on his forehead and desired his friendship. The youth invited the King to his house, and he went thither at midday. Pushpavati then told the King (for she knew the whole story from first to last) how his seventh wife had been induced by his six other wives to ring the bell twice needlessly; how she gave birth to a boy and a girl, and pups were substituted for them, how the twins were miraculously saved and brought up in the house of a potter, and so forth. When she had concluded the King was highly enraged, and next day caused his six wicked wives to be buried alive. The seventh queen was brought from the market-place and reinstated in the palace, and the youth with a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands lived happily with his beautiful twin-sister.
In two other Hindú versions known to me — but the story is doubtless as widely spread over India as we have seen it to be over Europe — only the leading idea of Galland’s tale reappears, though one of them suggests the romance of “Helyas, the Knight of the Swan,” namely, the story called “Truth’s Triumph,” in Miss Frere’s “Old Deccan Days,” p. 55 ff. Here a rájá and his minister walking together come to a large garden, where is a bringal- tree bearing 100 fruits but having no leaves, and the minister says to the rájá that whosoever should marry the gardener’s daughter should have by her 100 boys and one girl. The rájá espoused the maiden, much to the vexation of the 12 wives he had already, and then follows a repetition of the golden bell affair! as in the Bengali version. Drapadi Bai, the gardener’s daughter and the new rání, gives birth “right off” to 100 sons and a daughter, all of whom are thrown by the nurse on a dust-heap in which are a great number of rat-holes, the jealous co-wives fully expecting that the voracious rodents would quickly eat them up. The nurse tells the young rání that her children had turned into stones; such is also the story the 12 co-wives tell the rájá on his return, and he orders the poor Drapadi Bai to be imprisoned for life. But the rats, so far from devouring the children, nourished them with the utmost care. It comes to the knowledge of the 12 co-wives that the children are still alive, they are discovered and turned into crows — all save the little girl, who luckily escapes the fate of her 100 brothers, gets married to a great rájá, and has a son named Ramchandra, who effected the restoration to human form of his crow-uncles by means of magic water which he obtained from a rákshasí.
The other story referred to is No. xx of Miss Stokes’ “Indian Fairy Tales,” which Mr. Coote could not have read, else he would not have been at the trouble to maintain it was impossible that Galland derived his tale from it: “so long,” says he, “as that story remained in the country of its birth — India — it was absolutely inaccessible to him, for great traveller as he was, he never visited that far-off portion of the East.” The fact is, this Hindu story only resembles Galland’s, and that remotely, in the opening portion Seven daughters of a poor man played daily under the shady trees in the king’s garden with the gardener’s daughter, and she used to say to them, “When I am married I shall have a son — such a beautiful boy as he will be has never been seen. He will have a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin,” and they all laughed at her. The king, having overheard what she so often repeated, married her, though he had already four wives. Then follows the golden bell affair again, with a kettledrum substituted. When the young queen is about to be confined her co-wives tell her it is the custom to bind the eyes of women in her condition, to which she submits, and after she has borne the wonderful boy she promised to do, they tell her she has been delivered of a stone. The king degraded her to the condition of a kitchen servant and never spoke to her. The nurse takes the baby in a box and buries it in the jungle. But the king’s dog had followed her, and when she went off he took the box out of the earth and swallowed the baby. Six months after the dog brings him up, caresses him and swallows him again. He does likewise at the end of the year, and the dog’s keeper, having seen all told the four wives. They say to the king the dog had torn their clothes, and he replies, he’ll have the brute shot to-morrow. The dog overhears this and runs off to the king’s cow; he induces her to save the child by swallowing him, and the cow consents. Next day the dog is shot, and so on: the cow is to be killed and induces the king’s horse to swallow the child, and so on. — There may have been originally some mystical signification attached to this part of the tale, but it has certainly no connection with our story.443
I had nearly omitted an Arabian version of the outcast infants which seems to have hitherto escaped notice by story-comparers. Moreover, it occurs in a text of The Nights, to wit, the Wortley-Montague MS., Nights 472-483, in the story of Abou Neut and Abou Neeuteen = Abú Niyyet and Abú Niyyeteyn, according to Dr. Redhouse; one of those translated by Jonathan Scott in vol. vi. of his edition of the “Arabian Nights,” where, at p. 227, the hero marries the King’s youngest daughter and the King in dying leaves him heir to his throne, a bequest which is disputed by the husbands of the two elder daughters. The young queen is brought to bed of a son, and her sisters bribe the midwife to declare that she has given birth to a dog and throw the infant at the gate of one of the royal palaces. The same occurs when a second son is born. But at the third lying-in of the princess her husband takes care to be present, and the beautiful daughter she brings forth is saved from the clutches of her vindictive sisters. The two little princes are taken up by a gardener and reared as his own children. In course of time, it happened that the King (Abú Neeut) and his daughter visited the garden and saw the two little boys playing together and the young princess felt an instinctive affection for them, and the King, finding them engaged in martial play, making clay-horses, bows and arrows, &c., had the curiosity to inquire into their history. The dates when they were found agreed with those of the queen’s delivery; the midwife also confessed; and the King left the guilty parties to be punished by the pangs of their own consciences, being convinced that envy is the worst of torments. The two young princes were formally acknowledged and grew up to follow their father’s example.
We must go back to India once more if we would trace our tale to what is perhaps its primitive form, and that is probably of Buddhist invention; though it is quite possible this may be one of the numerous fiction which have been time out of mind the common heritage of nearly all peoples, and some of which the early Buddhists adapted to their own purposes. Be this as it may, in the following tale, from Dr. Mitra’s “Sanskrit Buddhist Literature of Nepál” (Calcutta: 1882), pp. 65, 66, we seem to have somewhat like the germ of the Envious Sisters:
King Brahmadatta picked up in Kampilla a destitute girl named Padmávati, who scattered lotuses at every step she moved, and made her his favourite queen. She was very simple-minded. Other queens used to play tricks upon her, and at the time of her first delivery cheated her most shamefully. The wicked ladies said to her on that occasion, “Dear Padma, you are a rustic girl; you do not know how to give birth to a royal child. Let us help you.” She yielded. They covered her eyes, threw into the river the twin boys she had brought forth, and smeared her face with blood. They deceived her by telling her that it was only a lump of flesh that she had given birth to, and it had been thrown into the river. At the same time they informed her husband that Padma had eaten up her two new-born sons. The King enraged at her inhuman conduct, ordered her to instant execution. But there was a shrewd man in the court who privately saved her life. A divinity appeared to the King in a dream, and revealed the whole truth to him. The King made a strict investigation in the harem, and found that Padmávati had been perfectly innocent. He became disconsolate, and gave vent to loud lamentations. Soon after some fishermen appeared at court and presented the King with two infants, who betrayed their royal lineage by the resemblance which their features bore to those of the King. They were reported to have been found in a vessel floating on the river. The courtier who saved Padma’s life now wished to produce her before the King, but she refused to return and proceeded to her father’s hermitage. After the death of her father she travelled through various places in the habit of a devotee; and in the course of her peregrinations she stopped at Banáres, from whence Brahmadatta conducted her to his capital with great honour.
I am of opinion that this Buddhist tale is the original form of the “Envious Sisters”— that it ended with the restoration of the children and the vindication of the innocence of their mother. The second part of our story has no necessary connection with the first, the elements of which it is composed being found in scores — nay, hundreds — of popular fictions in every country: the quest of wonderful or magical objects; one brother setting out, and by neglecting to follow the advice tendered him by some person he meets on his way, he comes to grief; a second brother follows, with the same result; and it is reserved for the youngest, and the least esteemed, to successfully accomplish the adventure. In the second part of the “Envious Sisters,” the girl, the youngest of the three children, plays the part of the usual hero of folk-tales of this class. There is, generally, a seemingly wretched old man — a hideous, misshapen dwarf — or an ugly, decrepit old woman — who is treated with rudeness by the two elder adventurers, so they do not speed in their enterprise; but the youngest addresses the person in respectful terms — shares his only loaf with him — and is rewarded by counsel which enables him to bring his adventure to a successful end. In the “Envious Sisters,” which I cannot but think Galland has garbled from his original, the eldest clips the beard of the hermit, and presumably the second does the same, since we are told he found the hermit in the like condition (albeit, his beard had been trimmed but a few days before). Each of them receives the same instructions. In a true folk-tale the two elder brothers would treat the old man with contempt and suffer accordingly, while the youngest would cut his nails and his beard, and make him more comfortable in his person. We do not require to go to Asiatic folk-lore for tales in which the elements of the second part of the “Envious Sisters” are to be found. In the German story of the Fox’s Brush there is a quest of a golden bird. The first brother sets off in high hope, on the road he sees a fox, who calls out to him not to shoot at it, and says that farther along the road are two inns, one of which is bright and cheerful looking, and he should not go into it, but rather into the other, even though it does not look very inviting. He shoots at the fox and misses it, then continues his journey, and puts up at the fine inn, where amidst riot and revel he forgets all about the business on which he had set out. The same happens to the second brother. But the youngest says to the fox that he will not shoot it and the fox takes him on its tail to the small inn, where he passes a quiet night, and in the morning is conveyed by the fox to the castle, wherein is the golden bird in a wooden cage, and so on. Analogous stories to this are plentiful throughout Europe and Asia; there is one, I think, in the Wortley Montague MS. of The Nights.
In Straparoia’s version of the “Envious Sisters,” when the children’s hair is combed pearls and precious stones fall out of it, whereby their foster-parents become rich; this is only hinted at in Galland’s story: the boy’s hair “should be golden on one side and silvern on the other; when weeping he should drop pearls in place of tears, and when laughing his rosy lips should be fresh as the blossom new-blown,” not another word is afterwards said of this, while in the modern Arabic version the children are finally identified by their mother through such peculiarities. The silver chains with which the children are born in the romance of “Helyas, the Knight of the Swan,” correspond with the “gold star” etc. on the forehead in other stories. It only remains to observe that the Bird of our tale who in the end relates the history of the children to their father, is represented in the modern Arabic version by the fairy Arab Zandyk in the modern Greek by Tzitzinæna, and in the Albanian by the Belle of the Earth.
425 The last of the old Dublin ballad-singers, who assumed the respectable name of Zozimus, and is said to have been the author of the ditties wherewith he charmed his street auditors, was wont to chant the legend of the Finding of Moses in a version which has at least the merit of originality:
“In Egypt’s land, upon the banks of Nile,
King Pharaoh’s daughter went to bathe in style;
She took her dip, then went unto the land,
And, to dry her royal pelt, she ran along the strand.
A bulrush tripped her, whereupon she saw
A smiling baby in a wad of straw;
She took it up, and said, in accents mild —
Tare an’ agurs, girls! which av yez owns this child?”
The Babylonian analogue, as translated by the Rev. Prof. A. H. Sayce, in the first vol. of the “Folk-Lore Journal” (1883), is as follows:
“Sargon, the mighty monarch, the King of Aganè, am I. My mother was a princess; my father I knew not, my father’s brother loved the mountain-land. In the city of Azipiranu, which on the bank of the Euphrates lies, my mother, the princess, conceived me, in an inaccessible spot she brought me forth. She placed me in a basket of rushes, with bitumen the door of my ark she closed. She launched me on the river, which drowned me not. The river bore me along, to Akki, the irrigator, it brought me. Akki, the irrigator, in the tenderness of his heart, lifted me up. Akki, the irrigator, as his own child brought me up. Akki, the irrigator, as his gardener appointed me, and in my gardenership the goddess Istar loved me. For 45 years the kingdom I have ruled, and the black headed (Accadian) race have governed.”
426 This strange notion may have been derived from some Eastern source, since it occurs in Indian fictions; for example, in Dr. Rájendralála Mitra’s “Sanskrit Buddhist Literature of Nepál,” p. 304, we read that “there lived in the village of Vásava a rich householder who had born unto him a son with a jewelled ring in his ear.” And in the “Mahábhárata” we are told of a king who had a son from whose body issued nothing but gold — the prototype of the gold-laying goose.
427 Connected with this romance is the tale of “The Six Swans,” in Grimm’s collection — see Mrs. Hunt’s English translation, vol. i. p. 192.
428 Mahbúb. a piece of gold, value about 10 francs, replaces the dinár of old tales. Those in Egypt are all since the time of the Turks: 9, 7, or 6 1/2 frs. according to issue. —Note by Spitta Bey.
429 Here again we have the old superstition of “blood speaking to blood,” referred to by Sir Richard, ante, p. 347, note 1. It often occurs in Asiatic stories. Thus in the Persian “Bakhtyár Náma,” when the adopted son of the robber chief is brought with other captives, before the king (he is really the king’s own son, whom he and the queen abandoned in their flight through the desert), his majesty’s bowels strangely yearned towards the youth, and in the conclusion this is carried to absurdity: when Bakhtyár is found to be the son of the royal pair, “the milk sprang from the breasts of the queen,” as she looked on him — albeit she must then have been long past child-bearing!
430 The enchanted pitcher does duty here for the witches’ broomstick and the fairies’ rush of European tales, but a similar conveyance is, I think, not unknown to Western folk-lore.
431 In a Norse story the hero on entering a forbidden room in a troll’s house finds a horse with a pan of burning coals under his nose and a measure of corn at his tail, and when he removes the coals and substitutes the corn, the horse becomes his friend and adviser.
432 M. Dozon does not think that Muslim customs allow of a man’s marrying three sisters at once; but we find the king does the same in the modern Arab version.
433 London: Macmillan and Co., p. 236 ff.
434 This recalls the biblical legend of the widow’s cruse, which has its exact counterpart in Singhalese folk-lore.
435 This recalls the story of the herd-boy who cried “Wolf! wolf!”
436 Again the old notion of maternal and paternal instincts; but the children don’t often seem in folk-tales, to have a similar impulsive affection for their unknown parents.
437 Colotropis gigantea.
438 Rákshashas and rákshasís are male and female demons or ogres, in the Hindú mythology.
439 Literally, the king of birds, a fabulous species of horse remarkable for swiftness, which plays an important part in Tamil stories and romances.
440 Here we have a parallel to the biblical legend of the passage of the Israelites dryshod
441 Demons, ogres, trolls, giants, et hoc genus omne, never fail to discover the presence of human beings by their keen sense of smelling. “Fee, faw, fum! I smell the blood of a British man,” cries a giant when the renowned hero Jack is concealed in his castle. “Fum! fum! sento odor christianum,” exclaims an ogre in Italian folk tales. “Femme, je sens la viande fraîche, la chair de chrétien!” says a giant to his wife in French stories.
442 In my popular “Tales and Fictions” a number of examples are cited of life depending on some extraneous object — vol. i. pp. 347-351.
443 In the Tamil story-book, the English translation of which is called “The Dravidian Nights’ Entertainments,” a wandering princess, finding the labour-pains coming upon her, takes shelter in the house of a dancing-woman, who says to the nurses, “If she gives birth to a daughter, it is well [because the woman could train her to follow her own profession’], but if a son, I do not want him; — close her eyes, remove him to a place where you can kill him, and throwing a bit of wood on the ground tell her she has given birth to it."— I daresay that a story similar to the Bengali version exists among the Tamils.
The Dream of Riches. In Croker’s Irish Fairy Legends there is a droll version, of this story, entitled “Dreaming Tim Jarvis.” Honest Tim, we are told, “took to sleeping, and the sleep set him dreaming, and he dreamed all night, and night after night, about crock full of gold. . . . At last he dreamt that he found a mighty great crock of gold and silver, and where, do you think? Every step of the way upon London Bridge itself! Twice Tim dreamt it, and three times Tim dreamt the same thing; and at last he made up his mind to transport himself, and go over to London, in Pat Mahoney’s coaster and so he did!” Tim walks on London Bridge day after day until he sees a man with great black whiskers and a black cloak that reached down to the ground, who accosts him, and he tells the strange man about his dream. “Ho! Ho!” says the strange man, “is that all, Tim? I had a dream myself and I dreamed that I found a crock of gold in the Fort field, on Jerry Driscoll’s ground at Balledehob, and, by the same token, the pit where it lay was close to a large furze bush, all full of yellow blossom.” Tim hastens back to his old place, sells his cabin and garden, and buys the piece of waste ground so minutely described by the man with black whiskers, finds the pit, jumps into it, and is among the fairies, who give him leave to stuff his pockets with gold; but when he returns to upper earth he discovers that he has got only a handful of small stones mixed with yellow furze blossoms.
In a note appended to this tale, Croker cites the following from Grimm’s “Deutsche Sagan,” vol. i. p. 290: A man once dreamed that if he went to Regensburg and walked on the bridge he should become rich. He went accordingly; and when he had spent near a fortnight walking backwards and forwards on the bridge, a rich merchant came up to him wondering what he was doing here every day, and asked him what he was looking for. He answered that he had dreamed if he would go to the bridge of Regensburg he should become rich. “Ha!” said the merchant, “what do you say about dreams? — Dreams are but froth (Träume sind Schaume). I too have dreamed that there is buried under yonder large tree (pointing to it) a great kettle full of money; but I gave no heed to this, for dreams are froth.” The man went immediately and dug under the tree, and there he got a treasure, which made a rich man of him, and so his dream was accomplished. — The same story is told of a baker’s boy at Lubeck, who dreamed that he should find a treasure on the bridge; there he met a beggar, who said he had dreamed there was one under a lime-tree in the churchyard of Mollen, but he would not take the trouble of going there. The baker’s boy went, and got the treasure. — It is curious to observe that all the European versions of the story have reference to a bridge, and it must have been brought westward in this form.
The Quest of the Image. — It has only now occurred to my mind that there is a very similar story in the romance of the Four Dervishes (“Kissa-i-Chehár-Darwesh”), a Persian work written in the 13th century, and rendered into Urdú about 80 years ago, under the title of “Bagh o Bahár” (Garden of Spring), of which an English translation was made by L. F. Smith, which was afterwards improved by Duncan Forbes. There the images are of monkeys — circumstance which seems to point to an Indian origin of the story — but the hero falls in love with the spotless girl, and the jinn-king takes possession of her, though he is ultimately compelled to give her up. — The fact of this story of the quest of the lacking image being found in the Persian language is another proof that the tales in The Nights were largely derived from Persian story-books.
There is a distorted reflection of the story in M. Rene Basset’s recently published “Contes Populaires Berbères,” No. xxix., which is to this effect: A taleb proclaims, “Who will sell himself for 100 mitqals?” One offers, the Kádí ratifies the sale; the (now) slave gives the money to his mother, and follows the taleb. Away they go. The taleb repeats certain words, upon which the earth opens, and he sends down the slave for “the candlestick, the reed, and the box.” The slave hides the box in his pocket and says he did not find it. They go off, and after a time the slave discovers that his master has disappeared. He returns home, hires a house, opens the box, and finds a cloth of silk with seven folds; he undoes one of them, whereupon genii swarm about the room, and a girl appears who dances till break of day. This occurs every night. The king happens to be out on a nocturnal adventure, and hearing a noise, enters the house and is amused till morning. He sends for the box to be brought to the palace, gives the owner his daughter in marriage, and continues to divert himself with the box till his death, when his son-in-law succeeds him on the throne.
My obliging friend, Mr. W. F. Kirby, who contributed to the 10th volume of Sir Richard’s Nights proper the very able Bibliographical Essay, has drawn my attention to an analogue of this tale in Geldart’s Folk-Lore of Modern Greece: There were two brothers, one of whom was wealthy and had four children, who were in feeble health, the other was poor and had seven children, who were in robust health. The poor brother’s wife, begging relief was allowed to come twice a week to the house of the rich brother to bake bread. Her children were starving, but the rich people gave the mother nothing for several days, and all she could do was to wash the dough off her hands for the children, who thrived, and the rich man, discovering the cause, made his wife compel the poor woman to wash her hands before she left the house. The father found his children crying for food, and pretended to go to the wood for herbs, but really purposing to kill himself by falling from a crag. But seeing a great castle, he determined first to ascertain what it was, so he went near, and having climbed a tree, saw forty-nine dragons come out. When they were gone he entered, and found a treasure, filled his bag and hurried away. On his return home he found his wife weeping bitterly, but when he showed her the treasure, she said the first thing was to buy oil to light a lamp to our Lady. Next day they bought a house, and moved into it, but agreed only to buy what they needed for each day’s use and nothing they could do without. For two months they went often to church and helped the poor, till, one day, the wife of the rich man, who had met with losses lately, called for them and was hospitably received. She heard the story of the treasure, and the poor man offered to show his brother the place. The rich brother miscounted the dragons as they left the castle, and the one left to watch killed and quartered him. Two days afterwards his brother went to look for him, brought home the severed body, and got a tailor to sew the quarters together. Next day the dragons called on the tailor to make them coats and shoes (sic), and heard of his sewing together the body. He showed them the house, and forty-eight dragons got into chests, which the forty-ninth deposited with the poor man. The children, playing about he chests, heard the dragons say, “Would that it were night, that we might eat them all!” So the father took forty-eight spits and made them red hot, and thrust them into the chests, and then said that a trick had been played upon him, and sent his servant to throw them one by one into the sea. As often as the servant returned he pretended to him that he did not throw the chest far enough and it had come back and thus he disposed of the whole number. In the morning when the last dragon came, the poor man told him one chest was found open: he was seized with fear, pushed in and spitted like the others and the poor man became the possessor of the dragons’ castle.
There can be no doubt, I think, that this story owes nothing to Galland, but that it is a popular Greek version of the original Asiatic tale, of which Galland’s “Ali Baba” is probably a fair reflection. The device of pretending to the servant that the dragon he had thrown into the sea was returned has its exact analogue in the humorous fabliau of “Les Trois Bossus,” where a rustic is made to believe that each of the hunchbacks had come back again, with the addition that, on returning from the river the third time, he seizes the lady’s hunchbacked husband and effectually disposes of him.
Though my paper on this tale is of considerable length, it would perhaps have been deemed intolerably long had I cited all the versions of the first part — the quest of the most wonderful thing — which are current in Europe, for it is found everywhere, though with few variations of importance. There are two, however, of which I may furnish the outlines in this place.
In the “Pentamerone” of Basile444, a man sends his five sons into the world to learn something. The eldest becomes a master-thief; the second has learned the trade of shipwright; the third has become a skilful archer; the fourth has found an herb which brings the dead to life, and the youngest has learned the speech of birds. Soon after they have returned home, they set out with their father to liberate a princess who had been stolen by a wild man, and by the exercise of their several arts succeed in their adventure. While they quarrel as to which of them had by his efforts done most to deserve the princess for wife, the king gives her to the father, as the stock of all those branches.
In the 45th of Laura Gonzenbach’s “Sicilianische Märchen,” the king’s daughter is stolen by a giant and recovered by the seven sons of a poor woman. The eldest can run like the wind, the second can hear, when he puts his ear to the ground, all that goes on in the world; the third can with a blow of his fist break through seven iron doors; the fourth is a thief; the fifth can build an iron tower with a blow of his fist; the sixth is an unfailing shot, the seventh has a guitar which can awaken the dead. Youths thus wonderfully endowed figure in many tales, but generally as the servants of the hero.
By comparing the different European versions it will be found that some are similar to the first part of the tale of Prince Ahmad, insomuch as the brothers become possessed of certain wonderful things which are each instrumental in saving the damsel’s life; while others more closely approach the oldest known form of the story, in representing the heroes as being endowed with some extraordinary kind of power, by means of which they rescue the damsel from a giant who had carried her off. It is curious to observe that in the “Sindibád Náma” version the damsel is both carried off by a demon and at death’s door, which is not the case of any other Asiatic form of the story.
444 It is to be hoped we shall soon have Sir Richard Burton’s promised complete English translation of this work, since one half is, I understand, already done.
To William H. Chandler, Esq.
Pembroke College, Oxford
My Dear Mr. Chandler,
As without your friendly and generous aid this volume could never have seen the light, I cannot resist the tempation of inscribing it to you — and without permission, for your modesty would have refused any such acknowledgment.
I am, ever,
Yours sincerely,
Richard F. Burton.
Trieste, March 10th, 1888.
As my first and second volumes (Supplemental) were composed of translated extracts from the Breslau Edition of The Nights, so this tome and its successor (vols. iv. and v.) comprise my version from the (Edward) Wortley Montague Codex immured in the old Bodleian Library, Oxford.
Absence from England prevents for the present my offering a satisfactory description of this widely known manuscript; but I may safely promise that the hiatus shall be filled up in vol. v., which is now ready for the press.
The contents of the Wortley Montague text are not wholly unfamiliar to Europe. In 1811 Jonathan Scott, LL.D. Oxon. (for whom see my vols. i., ix. and x. 434), printed with Longmans and Co. his “Arabian Nights Entertainments” in five substantial volumes 8vo, and devoted a sixth and last to excerpts entitled
TALES
SELECTED FROM THE MANUSCRIPT COPY
OF THE
1001 NIGHTS
BROUGHT TO EUROPE BY EDWARD WORTLEY MONTAGUE, ESQ.
Translated from the Arabic
BY JONATHAN SCOTT, LL.D.
Unfortunately for his readers Scott enrolled himself amongst the acolytes of Professor Galland, a great and original genius in the line Raconteur, and a practical Orientalist whose bright example was destined to produce disastrous consequences. The Frenchman, however unscrupulous he might have been about casting down and building up in order to humour the dead level of Gallican bon goût, could, as is shown by his “Aladdin,” translate literatim and verbatim when the story-stuff is of the right species and acceptable to the average European taste. But, as generally happens in such cases, his servile suite went far beyond their master and model. Petis de la Croix (“Persian and Turkish Tales”), Chavis and Cazotte (“New Arabian Nights”), Dow (“Ináyatu llah”) and Morell (“Tales of the Genii”), with others manifold whose names are now all but forgotten, carried out the Gallandian liberties to the extreme of licence and succeeded in producing a branchlet of literature, the most vapid, frigid and insipid that can be imagined by man — a bastard Europeo-Oriental, pseudo-Eastern world of Western marionettes garbed in the gear which Asiatic are (or were) supposed to wear, with sentiments and opinions, manners and morals to match; the whole utterly lacking life, local colour, vraisemblance, human interest. From such abortions, such monstrous births, libera nos, Domine!
And Scott out-gallanded Galland:—
Diruit, aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis.
It is hard to quote a line which he deigned textually to translate. He not only commits felony on the original by abstracting whole sentences and pages ad libitum, but he also thrusts false goods into his author’s pocket and patronises the unfortunate Eastern story-teller by foisting upon him whatever he, the “translator and traitor,” deems needful. On this point no more need be said: the curious reader has but to compare any one of Scott’s “translations” with the original or, for that matter, with the present version.
I determined to do that for Scott which Lane had done partly and imperfectly, and Payne had successfully and satisfactorily done for Galland. But my first difficulty was about the text. It was impossible to face without affright the prospect of working for months amid the discomforts and the sanitary dangers of Oxford’s learned atmosphere and in her obsolete edifices the Bodleian and the Radcliffe. Having ascertained, however, that in the so-called “University” not a scholar could be found to read the text, I was induced to apply for a loan — not to myself personally for I should have shunned the responsibility — but in the shape of a temporary transfer of the seven-volumed text, tome by tome, to the charge of Dr. Rost, the excellent Librarian of the India Office.
My hopes, however, were fated to be deferred. Learned bodies, Curators and so forth, are ponderous to move and powerless to change for
The trail of the slow-worm is over them all.
My official application was made on September 13th, 1886. The tardiest steps were taken as if unwillingly and, when they could no longer decently be deferred, they resulted in the curtest and most categorical but not most courteous of refusals, under circumstances of peculiar disfavour, on November 1st of the same year. Here I shall say no more: the correspondence has been relegated to Appendix A. My subscribers, however, will have no reason to complain of these “Ineptiû Bodleianû.” I had pledged myself in case of a loan “not to translate Tales that might be deemed offensive to propriety:” the Curators have kindly set me free from that troublesome condition and I thank them therefor.
Meanwhile I had not been idle. Three visits to Oxford in September and October had enabled me to reach the DIVth Night. But the laborious days and inclement evenings, combined with the unsanitary state of town and libraries — the Bodleian and the Rotunda — brought on a serious attack of “lithiasis” as it is now called, and prostrated me for two months, until it was time to leave England en route for my post.
Under these circumstances my design threatened to end in failure. As often befalls to men out of England, every move ventured by me menaced only check-mate. I began by seeking a copyist at Oxford, one who would imitate the text as an ignoramus might transcribe music: an undergraduate volunteered for the task and after a few days dropped it in dumb disgust. The attempt was presently repeated by a friend with the unsatisfactory result that three words out of four were legible. In London several Easterns were described as able and willing for the work; but they also were found wanting; one could not be trusted with the MS. and another was marriage-mad. Photography was lastly proposed, but considerations of cost seemed to render it unavailable. At last, when matters were at the worst, the proverbial amendment appeared. Mr. Chandler, whose energetic and conscientious opposition to all “Bodleian loans,” both of books and of manuscripts, had mainly caused the passing of the prohibitory statute, came forward in the most friendly and generous way: with no small trouble to himself he superintended the “sun- pictures,” each page of the original being reduced to half-size, and he insisted upon the work being done wholly and solely at his own expense. I know not how to express my gratitude.
The process was undertaken by Mr. Percy Notcutt, of Kingsbury and Notcutt, 45, St. George’s Place, Knightsbridge, and the four hundred and odd pages were reproduced in most satisfactory style.
Being relegated to a port-town which never possessed even an Arabic lexicon, I have found some difficulty with the Wortley Montague MS. as it contains a variety of local words unknown to the common dictionaries. But I have worked my best to surmount the obstacle by consulting many correspondents, amongst whom may be mentioned the name of my late lamented friend, the Reverend George Percy Badger; and, finally, by submitting my proofs to the corrections and additions of the lexicologist Dr. Steingass.
Appendix B will require no apology to the numerous admirers of Mr. E. J. W. Gibb’s honest and able work, “The History of the Forty Vezirs” (London, Redway, MDCCCLXXXVI). The writer in a book intended for the public was obliged to leave in their original Turkish, and distinguished only by italics, three “facetious” tales which, as usual, are some of the best in the book. These have been translated for me and I offer them to my readers on account of their curious analogies with many in The Nights.
Richard F. Burton.
TRIESTE, April 10th, 1888.
There was erewhile in the land of Al-Yaman a man which was a Sultan and under him were three Kinglets whom he overruled. He had four children; to wit, three sons and a daughter: he also owned wealth and treasures greater than reed can pen or page may contain; as well as animals such as horses and camels, sheep and black cattle; and he was held in awe by all the sovrans. But when his reign had lasted for a length of time, Age2 brought with it ailments and infirmities and he became incapable of faring forth his Palace to the Divan, the hall of audience; whereupon he summoned his three sons to the presence and said to them, “As for me, ’tis my wish to divide among you all my substance ere I die, that ye may be equal in circumstance and live in accordance with whatso I shall command.” And they said, “Hearkening and obedience.” Then quoth the Sultan, “Let the eldest of you become sovereign after me: let the cadet succeed to my moneys and treasures3 and as for the youngest let him inherit my animals of every kind. Suffer none to transgress against other; but each aid each and assist his co-partner.” He then caused them to sign a bond and agreement to abide by his bequeathal; and, after delaying a while, he departed to the mercy of Allah. Thereupon his three sons got ready the funeral gear and whatever was suited to his estate for the mortuary obsequies such as cerements and other matters: they washed the corpse and enshrouded it and prayed over it: then, having committed it to the earth they returned to their palaces where the Wazirs and the Lords of the Land and the city-folk in their multitudes, high and low, rich and poor, flocked to condole with them on the loss of their father. And the news of his decease was soon bruited abroad in all the provinces; and deputations from each and every city came to offer condolence to the King’s sons. These ceremonies duly ended, the eldest Prince demanded that he should be seated as Sultan on the stead of his sire in accordance with the paternal will and testament; but he could not obtain it from his two brothers as both and each said, “I will become ruler in room of my father.” So enmity and disputes for the government now arose amongst them and it was not to be won by any; but at last quoth the eldest Prince, “Wend we and submit ourselves to the arbitration of a Sultan of the tributary sultans; and let him to whom he shall adjudge the realm take it and reign over it.” Quoth they “’Tis well!” and thereto agreed, as did also the Wazirs; and the three set out without suite seeking the capital of one of the subject Sovrans. — And Shahrázád4 was surprised by the dawn of day5 and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyázád, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deed fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the three Princes fared seeking a Sultan of the sultans who had been under the hands of their sire, in order that they might take him to arbitrator. And they stinted not faring till the middle way, when behold, they came upon a mead abounding in herbage and in rainwater lying sheeted.6 So they sat them down to rest and to eat of their victual, when one of the brothers, casting his eye upon the herbage, cried, “Verily a camel hath lately passed this way laden half with Halwá-sweetmeats and half with Hámiz-pickles.”7 “True,” cried the second, “and he was blind of an eye.” Exclaimed the third, “’Tis sooth; and indeed he hath lost his tail.” Hardly, however, had they ended their words when lo! the owner of the camel came upon them (for he had overheard their speech and had said to himself, “By Allah, these three fellows have driven off my property, inasmuch as they have described the burthen and eke the beast as tail-less and one-eyed”), and cried out, “Ye three have carried away my camel!”8 “By Allah we have not seen him,” quoth the Princes, “much less have we touched him;” but quoth the man, “By the Almighty, who can have taken him except you? and if you will not deliver him to me, off with us, I and you three, to the Sultan.” They replied, “By all manner of means; let us wend to the Sovran.” So the four hied forth, the three Princes and the Cameleer, and ceased not faring till they reached the capital of the King. There they took seat without the wall to rest for an hour’s time and presently they arose and pushed into the city and came to the royal Palace. Then they craved leave of the Chamberlains, and one of the Eunuchs caused them enter and signified to the sovereign that the three sons of Such-and-such a Sultan had made act of presence. So he bade them be set before him and the four went in and saluted him, and prayed for him and he returned their salams. He then asked them, “What is it hath brought you hither and what may ye want in the way of enquiry?” Now the first to speak was the Cameleer and he said, “O my lord the Sultan; verily these three men have carried off my camel by proof of their own speech."— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Cameleer came forward between the Sultan’s hands and said, “O my lord, verily these men have carried away the camel which belongeth to me,9 for they have indeed described him and the burthen he bore! And I require of our lord the Sultan that he take from these wights and deliver to me the camel which is mine as proved by their own words.” Presently asked the Sultan, “What say ye to the claims of this man and the camel belonging to him?” Hereto the Princes made answer, “By Allah, O King of the Age, we have not seen the camel, much less have we stolen him.” Thereupon the Cameleer exclaimed, “O my lord, I heard yonder one say that the beast was blind of an eye; and the second said that he was tail-less, and the third said that half his load was of sour stuff and the other half was of sweet stuff.” They replied, “True, we spake these words;” and the Sultan cried to them, “Ye have purloined the beast by this proof.” They rejoined, “No, by Allah, O my lord. We sat us in such a place for repose and refreshment and we remarked that some of the pasture had been grazed down, so we said, ‘This is the grazing of a camel; and he must have been blind of one eye as the grass was eaten only on one side.’ But as for our saying that he was tail-less, we noted the droppings lying heaped10 upon the ground which made us agree that the tail must have been cut off, it being the custom of camels at such times to whisk their tails and scatter the dung abroad. So ’twas evident to us that the camel had lost his tail. But as for our saying that the load was half Halwá and half Hámiz, we saw on the place where the camel had knelt the flies gathering in great numbers while on the other were none: so the case was clear to us (as flies settle on naught save the sugared) that one of the panniers must have contained sweets and the other sours.” Hearing this the Sultan said to the Cameleer, “O man, fare thee forth and look after thy camel; for these signs and tokens prove not the theft of these men, but only the power of their intellect and their penetration.”11 And when the Cameleer heard this, he went his ways. Presently the Sultan cleared a place in the Palace and allotted to it the Princes for their entertainment: he also directed they be supplied with a banquet and the eunuchs did his bidding. But when it was eventide and supper was served up, the trio sat down to it purposing to eat; the eldest, however, having hent in hand a bannock of bread exclaimed, “By Allah, verily this cake was baked by a woman in blood, to wit, one with the menses.” The cadet tasting a bit of kid exclaimed, “This kid was suckled by a bitch”; and the youngest exclaimed, “Assuredly this Sultan must be a son of shame, a bastard.” All this was said by the youths what while the Sultan had hidden himself in order to hear and to profit by the Princes’ words. So he waxed wroth entered hastily crying, “What be these speeches ye have spoken?” They replied, “Concerning all thou hast heard enquire within and thou wilt find it wholly true.” The Sultan then entered his women’s apartments and after inquisition found that the woman who had kneaded the bread was sick with her monthly courses. He then went forth and summoned the head-shepherd and asked him concerning the kid he had butchered. He replied, “By Allah, O my lord, the nanny-goat that bare the kid died and we found none other in milk to suckle him; but I had a bitch that had just pupped and her have I made nourish him.” The Sultan lastly hent his sword in hand and proceeded to the apartments of the Sultánah-mother and cried, “By Allah, unless thou avert my shame12 we will cut thee down with this scymitar! Say me whose son am I?” She replied, “By Allah, O my child, indeed falsehood is an excuse, but fact and truth are more saving and superior. Verily thou art the son of a cook!"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan’s mother said to him, “Verily thou art a cook’s son. Thy sire could not beget boy-children and I bare him only a single daughter. But it so fortuned that the kitchener’s wife lay in of a boy (to wit, thyself); so we gave my girl-babe to the cook and took thee as the son of the Sultan, dreading for the realm after thy sire’s death.” The King went forth from his mother in astonishment at the penetration of the three youths and, when he had taken seat in his Palace, he summoned the trio and as soon as they appeared he asked them; “Which of you was it that said, ‘She who kneaded the bread was in blood’?” Quoth the eldest, “That was I;” and quoth the King, “What led thee to suspect that she was menstruous?” He replied, “O my lord, when I took the bannock and broke off a bittock, the flour fell out in lumps.13 Now had the kneader been well, her strength of hand would have remained and the bread would have been wrought by all the veins; but, when the blood came, her powers were minished for women’s force is in their hands; and as soon as the monthly period cometh upon them their strength is lost. Their bodies contain three hundred and sixty veins all lying hard by one another and the blood of the catamenia floweth from them all; hence their force becometh feebleness. And this was my proof of the woman which was menstruous.” Quoth the Sultan, “’Tis well. We accept as certain thy saying upon this evidence, for it is agreeable to man’s understanding nor can any challenge it; this being from the power of insight into the condition of womankind. And we are assured of its soothfastness, for ’tis evident to us without concealment. But which is he who said of the kid’s meat that the beast was suckled by a bitch? What proof had he of this? How did he learn it and whence did his intelligence discover it to him?” Now when the deceased Sultan’s second son heard these words, he made answer. “I, O King of the Age, am he who said that say!” The King replied, “’Tis well;” and the Prince resumed, “O my lord, that which showed me the matter of the meat which was to us brought is as follows. I found the fat of the kid all hard by the bone, and I knew that the beast had sucked bitch’s milk; for the flesh of dogs lieth outside and their fat is on their bones, whereas in sheep and goats the fat lieth upon the meat. Such, then, was my proof wherein there is nor doubt nor hesitation; and when thou shalt have made question and inquiry thou wilt find this to be fact.” Quoth the Sultan, “’Tis well; thou hast spoken truth and whatso thou sayest is soothfast. But which is he who declared that I am a bastard and what was his proof and what sign in me exposed it to him?” Quoth the youngest Prince, “I am he who said it;” and the Sultan rejoined, “There is no help but that thou provide me with a proof.” The Prince rejoined, “’Tis well!"— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youngest Prince said to the Sultan, “O my lord, I have evidence that thou art the son of a cook and a base-born in that thou didst not sit at meat with us and this was mine all-sufficient evidence. Every man hath three properties which he inheriteth at times from his father, at times from his maternal uncle and at times from his mother.14 From his sire cometh generosity or niggardness; from his uncle courage or cowardice; from his mother modesty or immodesty; and such is the proof of every man.” Then quoth to him the Sultan, “Sooth thou speakest; but say me, men who like you know all things thoroughly by evidence and by your powers of penetration, what cause have they to come seeking arbitration at my hand? Beyond yours there be no increase of intelligence. So fare ye forth from me and manage the matter amongst yourselves, for ’tis made palpable to me by your own words that naught remaineth to you save to speak of mysterious subjects;15 nor have I the capacity to adjudge between you after that which I have heard from you. In fine an ye possess any document drawn up by your sire before his decease, act according to it and contrary it not.” Upon this the Princes went forth from him and made for their own country and city and did as their father had bidden them do on his death-bed. The eldest enthroned himself as Sultan; the cadet assumed possession and management of the moneys and treasures and the youngest took to himself the camels and the horses and the beeves and the muttons. Then each and every was indeed equal with his co-partner in the gathering of good. But when the new year came, there befel a drought among the beasts and all belonging to the youngest brother died nor had he aught of property left: yet his spirit brooked not to take anything from his brethren or even to ask of them aught. This then is the Tale of the King of Al-Yaman in its entirety; yet is the Story of the Three Sharpers16 more wondrous and marvellous than that just recounted. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the King suffer me to survive.” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will! It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating;” and she began to recount
1 From the Wortley Montague MS. vol. iii. pp. 80-96. J. Scott: vol. vi. pp. 1-7. Histoire du Sulthan d’Yemen et de ses trots fils; Gauttier vol. vi. pp. 158-165.
2 The worst disease in human life, now recognised as “Annus Domini.”
3 Arab. “Mál wa Ghawál”: in Badawi parlance “Mál” would=flocks and herds (pecunia, pecus); and amongst the burghers=ready money, coin. Another favourite jingle of similar import is “Mál wa Nawál.”
There is an older form of the Sultan of Al Yaman and his three sons, to be found in M. Zotenberg’s “Chronique de Tabari,” vol. ii. pp. 357-61.
4 In the W. M. MS. the sisters are called “Shahrzádeh” (=City born) and “Dinárzádeh” (=ducat born) and the royal brothers Shahrbáz (=City player or City falcon) and Kahramán (vol. i. p. 1) alias Samarbán (ibid.). I shall retain the old spelling.
5 I have hitherto translated “wa adraka (masc.) Shahrázáda al-Sabáh,” as=And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day; but it is more correct as well as more picturesque to render the phrase “was surprised (or overtaken) by the dawn.”
6 Arab. “‘Adrán,"=much and heavy rain.
7 For “Halwá” see vol. ii. pp. 47-212. Scott (vol. vi. 413) explains “Hámiz” as “a species of small grain,” probably confounding it with Hummus (or Himmis)=vetches. It is the pop. term for pickles, “sour meat” as opposed to “sweetmeats.” The Arabs divide the camel’s pasture into “Khullah” which means sweet food called bread and into “Hámiz” termed fruit: the latter is composed mainly of salsolaceae, and as camels feed upon it during the hot season it makes them drink. Hence in Al Hariri (Preface) “I change the pasture,” i.e., I pass from grave to gay, from light to dignified style. (Chenery, p. 274).
8 This is the modern version of the tale which the author of “Zadig” has made familiar to Europe. The hero is brought before the King and Queen of Babylon for stealing a horse and a dog; and, when held by the chief “Destour” (priest) to be a thief, justifies himself. I have given in full the older history from Tabari, the historian (vixit A.D. 839-923). For the tracker (“Paggí") and the art of tracking see Sind Revisited, i. 180-183. I must again express my wonder that the rural police of Europe still disdain the services of trained dogs when these are about to be introduced into the army.
9 Arab. “Bitá‘i”=my own. I have already noticed that this is the Egypt. form and the Nilotes often turn the ‘Ayn into an H, e.g. Bitáht for Bitá‘at, e.g. Ash Shabakah bitáht as-Sayd, thy net for fishing. (Spitta Bey, Contes Arabes Modernes, p. 43.)
10 Arab. “Mukabbab;” prop. vaulted, arched, domed in Kubbah (or cupola)-shape.
11 Arab. “Firásah.” “Sciences are of three kinds: one the science of Faith, another the science of Physiognomy (Firásah), and another the science of the Body; but unless there be the science of Physiognomy, other science availeth not.” So says “The Forty Vizirs:” Lady’s vith story and Vizir’s xxxist story. For a note on “Firásah” see vol. viii. 326.
12 Arab. “In lam tazidd Kayni”=lit. unless thou oppose my forming or composition.
13 Arab. “Faráfish,” a word which I cannot find in the dictionary, and so translate according to the context. Dr. Steingass remarks that the nearest approach to it would be “Faráfík” (plur. of Furfák)=fine, thin or soft bread.
14 See, in the “Turkish Tales” by Petis de la Croix (Weber, Tales of the East, vol. iii. 196), the History of the Sophi of Baghdad, where everything returns to (or resembles) its origin. Thus the Wazir who proposed to cut up a criminal and hang him in the shambles was the self-convicted son of a butcher; he who advised boiling him down and giving his flesh to the dogs was the issue of a cook, and the third who proposed to pardon him was nobly born. See Night cccxli.
15 Arab. “Al-Mafyaat,” lit.=a shady place; a locality whereupon the sun does not rise.
16 Arab. “Ja’idiyah,” a favourite word in this MS. “Ja’ad”=a curl, a liberal man: Ja’ad al-yad=miserly, and Abú ja’dah=father of curls,=a wolf. Scott (passim) translates the word “Sharper;” Gore Ouseley “Labourer;” and De Sacy (Chrestomathie ii. 369, who derives it from Ju’d=avoir les cheveux crépus): in Egypt, homme de la populace, canaille. He finds it in the Fabrica Linguæ Arab. of Germanus of Silesia (p. 786)=ignavis, hebes, stupidus, esp. a coward. Ibrahim Salamah of Alexandria makes the term signify in Syria, impudent, thieving, wicked. Spitta Bey translates this word musicien ambulant in his Gloss. to Contes Arabes, p. 171. According to Dr. Steingass, who, with the Muhít al-Muhít, reads “Ju’aydíyah,” Ju’ayd is said to be the P. N. of an Egyptian clown, who, with bell-hung cap and tambourine in hand, wandered about the streets singing laudatory doggrel and pestering the folk for money. Many vagabonds who adopted this calling were named after him and the word was generalised in that sense.
Saying, “Verily their adventure is wondrous and their actions delightsome and marvellous,” presently adding — There were in time of yore three Sharpers who were wont every day in early morning to prowl forth and to prey, rummaging18 among the mounds which outlay the city. Therein each would find a silver bit of five parahs or its equivalent, after which the trio would for- gather and buy whatso sufficed them for supper: they would also expend two Nusfs19 upon Bast,20 which is Bhang, and purchase a waxen taper with the other silver bit. They had hired a cell in the flank of a Wakálah, a caravanserai without the walls, where they could sit at ease to solace themselves and eat their Hashísh after lighting the candle and enjoy their intoxication and consequent merriment till the noon o’ night. Then they would sleep, again awaking at day-dawn when they would arise and seek for spoil, according to their custom, and ransack the heaps where at times they would hit upon a silverling of five dirhams and at other times a piece of four; and at eventide they would meet to spend together the dark hours, and they would expend everything they came by every day. For a length of time they pursued this path until, one day of the days, they made for the mounds as was their wont and went round searching the heaps from morning to evening without finding even a half-parah; wherefore they were troubled and they went away and nighted in their cell without meat or drink. When the next day broke they arose and repaired for booty, changing the places wherein they were wont to forage; but none of them found aught; and their breasts were straitened for lack of a find of dirhams wherewith to buy them supper. This lasted for three full-told and following days until hunger waxed hard upon them and vexation; so they said one to other, “Go we to the Sultan and let us serve him with a sleight, and each of us three shall claim to be a past master of some craft: haply Allah Almighty may incline his heart uswards and he may largesse us with something to expend upon our necessities.” Accordingly all three agreed to do on this wise and they sought the Sultan whom they found in the palace-garden. They asked leave to go in to him, but the Chamberlains refused admission: so they stood afar off unable to approach the presence. Then quoth they one to other, “’Twere better we fall to and each smite his comrade and cry aloud and make a clamour,21 and as soon as he shall hear us he will send to summon us.” Accordingly they jostled one another and each took to frapping his fellow, making the while loud outcries. The Sultan hearing this turmoil said, “Bring me yonder wights;” and the Chamberlains and Eunuchs ran out to them and seized them and set them between the hands of the Sovran. As soon as they stood in the presence he asked them, “What be the cause of your wrath one against other?” They answered, “O King of the Age, we are past masters of crafts, each of us weeting an especial art.” Quoth the Sultan, “What be your crafts?” and quoth one of the trio, “O our lord, as for my art I am a jeweller by trade.” The King exclaimed, “Passing strange! a sharper and a jeweller:22 this is a wondrous matter.” And he questioned the second — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night which was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan asked the second Sharper saying, “And thou, the other, what may be thy craft?” He answered, “I am a genealogist23 of the horse-kind.” So the King glanced at him in surprise and said to himself, “A sharper yet he claimeth an astounding knowledge!” Then he left him and put the same question to the third who said to him, “O King of the Age, verily my art is more wondrous and marvellous than aught thou hast heard from these twain: their craft is easy but mine is such that none save I can discover the right direction thereto or know the first of it from the last of it.” The Sultan enquired of him, “And what be thy craft?” Whereto he replied, “My craft is the genealogy of the sons of Adam.” Hearing these words the Sovran wondered with extreme wonderment and said in himself, “Verily He informeth with His secrets the humblest of His creatures! Assuredly these men, an they speak truth in all they say and it prove soothfast, are fit for naught except kingship. But I will keep them by me until the occurrence of some nice contingency wherein I may test them; then, if they approve themselves good men and trustworthy of word, I will leave them on life; but if their speech be lying I will do them die.” Upon this he set apart for them apartments and rationed them with three cakes of bread and a dish of roast meat24 and set over them his sentinels dreading lest they fly. This case continued for a while till behold, there came to the Sultan from the land of ‘Ajam a present of rarities, amongst which were two gems whereof one was clear of water and the other was clouded of colour.25 The Sultan hent them in hand for a time and fell to considering them straitly for the space of an hour; after which he called to mind the first of the three Sharpers, the selfstyled jeweller, and cried, “Bring me the jeweller-man.” Accordingly they went and brought him and set him before the Sovran who asked him, “O man, art thou a lapidary?” And when the Sharper answered “Yes” he gave him the clear-watered stone, saying, “What may be the price of this gem?"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sharper took the jewel in hand and turned it rightwards and leftwards and considered the outside and pried into the inside; after which he said to the Sultan, “O my lord, verily this gem containeth a worm26 bred within the heart thereof.” Now when the King heard these words he waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and commanded the man’s head to be stricken off, saying, “This jewel is clear of colour and free of flaw or other default; yet thou chargest it falsely with containing a worm!” Then he summoned the Linkman27 who laid hands on the Sharper and pinioned his elbows and trussed up his legs28 like a camel’s and was about to smite his neck when behold, the Wazir entered the presence and, seeing the Sovran in high dudgeon and the Sharper under the scymitar, asked what was to do. The Sultan related to him what had happened when he drew near to him and said, “O my lord, act not after this fashion! An thou determine upon the killing of yonder man, first break the gem and, if thou find therein a worm, thou wilt know the wight’s word to have been veridical; but an thou find it sound then strike off his head.” “Right is thy rede,” quoth the King: then he took in hand the gem and smote it with his mace29 and when he brake behold, he found therein the worm amiddlemost thereof. So he marvelled at the sight and asked the man, “What proved to thee that it harboured a worm?” “The sharpness of my sight,” answered the Sharper. Then the Sultan pardoned him and, admiring his power of vision, addressed his attendants saying, “Bear him back to his comrades and ration him with a dish of roast meat and two cakes of bread.” And they did as he bade them. After some time, on a day of the days, there came to the King the tribute of ‘Ajamland accompanied with presents amongst which was a colt whose robe black as night30 showed one shade in the sun and another in the shadow. When the animal was displayed to the Sultan he fell in love with it and set apart for it a stall and solaced himself at all times by gazing at it and was wholly occupied with it and sang its praises till they filled the whole country side. Presently he remembered the Sharper who claimed to be a genealogist of the horse-kind and bade him be summoned. So they fared forth and brought him and set him between the hands of the Sovran who said to him, “Art thou he who knoweth the breed and descent of horses?” “Yea verily,” said the man. Then cried the King, “By the truth of Him who set me upon the necks of His servants and who sayeth to a thing ‘Be’ and it becometh, an I find aught of error or confusion in thy words, I will strike off thy head.” “Hearkening and obedience,” quoth the Sharper. Then they led him to the colt that he might consider its genealogy. He called aloud to the groom31— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sharper called aloud to the stirrup-holder and when they brought him he bade the man back the colt for his inspection. So he mounted the animal and made it pace to the right and to the left causing it now to prance and curvet and then to step leisurely, while the connoisseur looked on and after a time quoth he to the groom, “’Tis enough!” Then he went in to the presence and stood between the hands of the King who enquired, “What hast thou seen in the colt, O Kashmar?”32 Replied the Sharper, “By Allah, O King of the Age, this colt is of pure and noble blood on the side of the sire: its action is excellent and all its qualities are praiseworthy save one; and but for this one it had been perfect in blood and breed nor had there been on earth’s face its fellow in horseflesh. But its blemish remaineth a secret.” The Sultan asked, “And what is the quality which thou blamest?” and the Sharper answered, “Its sire was noble, but its dam was of other strain: she it was that brought the blemish and if thou, O my lord, allow me I will notify it to thee.” “’Tis well, and needs must thou declare it,” quoth the Sultan. Then said the Sharper, “Its dam is a buffalo-cow.”33 When the King heard these words he was wroth with wrath exceeding and he bade the Linkman take the Sharper and behead him, crying, “O dog! O accursed! How can a buffalo-cow bear a horse?” The Sharper replied, “O my lord, the Linkman is in the presence; but send and fetch him who brought thee the colt and of him make enquiry. If my words prove true and rightly placed, my skill shall be stablished; but an they be lies let my head pay forfeit for my tongue. Here standeth the Linkman and I am between thy hands: thou hast but to bid him strike off my head!” Thereupon the King sent for the owner and breeder of the colt and they brought him to the presence. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth the sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan sent for the owner and breeder of the colt and asked him saying, “Tell me the truth anent the blood of this colt. Didst thou buy it or breed it so that it was a rearling of thy homestead?” Said he, “By Allah, O King of the Age, I will speak naught which is not sooth, for indeed there hangeth by this colt the strangest story: were it graven with graver-needles upon the eye-corners it had been a warning to whoso would be warned. And this it is. I had a stallion of purest strain whose sire was of the steeds of the sea;34 and he was stabled in a stall apart for fear of the evil eye, his service being entrusted to trusty servants. But one day in springtide the Syce took the horse into the open and there picquetted him when behold, a buffalo-cow walked into the enclosed pasture where the stallion was tethered, and seeing her he brake his heel-ropes and rushed at her and covered her. She conceived by him and when her days were completed and her throwing-time came she suffered sore pains and bare yonder colt. And all who have seen it or have heard of it were astounded,” said he, presently adding, “by Allah, O King of the Age, had its dam been of the mare-kind the colt would have had no equal on earth’s surface or aught approaching it.” Hereat the Sultan took thought and marvelled; then, summoning the Sharper he said to him when present, “O man, thy speech is true and thou art indeed a genealogist in horseflesh and thou wottest it well. But I would know what proved to thee that the dam of this colt was a buffalo-cow?” Said he, “O King, my proof thereof was palpable nor can it be concealed from any wight of right wits and intelligence and special knowledge; for the horse’s hoof is round whilst the hooves of buffaloes are elongated and duck-shaped,35 and hereby I kenned that this colt was a jumart, the issue of a cow-buffalo.” The Sultan was pleased with his words and said “Ration him with a plate of roast meat and two cakes of bread;” and they did as they were bidden. Now for a length of time the third Sharper was forgotten till one day the Sultan bethought him of the man who could explain the genealogy of Adam’s sons. So he bade fetch him and when they brought him into the presence he said, “Thou art he that knowest the caste and descent of men and women?” and the other said, “Yes.” Then he commanded the Eunuchs take him to his wife36 and place him before her and cause him declare her genealogy. So they led him in and set him standing in her presence and the Sharper considered her for a while looking from right to left; then he fared forth to the Sultan who asked him, “What hast thou seen in the Queen?” Answered he, “O my lord, I saw a somewhat adorned with loveliness and beauty and perfect grace, with fair stature of symmetrical trace and with modesty and fine manners and skilful case; and she is one in whom all good qualities appear on every side, nor is aught of accomplishments or knowledge concealed from her and haply in her centre all desirable attributes. Natheless, O King of the Age, there is a curious point that dishonoureth her from the which were she free none would outshine her of all the women of her generation.” Now when the Sultan heard the words of the Sharper, he sprang hastily to his feet and clapping hand upon hilt bared his brand and fell upon the man purposing to slay him; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan fell upon the Sharper with his sword purposing to slay him; but the Chamberlains and the Eunuchs prevented him saying, “O our lord, kill him not until his falsehood or his fact shall have been made manifest to thee.“The Sultan said to him, “What then appeared to thee in my Queen?” “He37 is ferly fair,” said the man, “but his mother is a dancing-girl, a gypsey.”38 The fury of the King increased hereat and he sent to summon the inmates of his Harem and cried to his father-in-law, “Unless thou speak me sooth concerning thy daughter and her descent and her mother I”—39 He replied, “By Allah, O King of the Age, naught saveth a man save soothfastness! Her mother indeed was a Gháziyah: in past time a party of the tribe was passing by my abode when a young maid strayed from her fellows and was lost. They asked no questions concerning her; so I lodged her and bred her in my homestead till she grew up to be a great girl and the fairest of her time. My heart would not brook her wiving with any other; so I wedded her and she bare me this daughter whom thou, O King, hast espoused.” When the Sultan heard these words the flame in his heart was quenched40 and he wondered at the subtlety of the Sharper man; so he summoned him and asked him saying, “O wily one, tell me what certified to thee that my Queen had a dancing girl, a gypsey, to mother?” He answered, “O King of the Age, verily the Ghaziyah race hath eye-balls intensely black and bushy brows whereas other women than the Ghaziyah have the reverse of this.” On such wise the King was convinced of the man’s skill and he cried, “Ration him with a dish of roast meat and two scones.” They did as he bade and the three Sharpers tarried with the Sultan a long time till one day when the King said to himself, “Verily these three men have by their skill solved every question of genealogy which I proposed to them: first the jeweller proved his perfect knowledge of gems; secondly the genealogist of the horse-kind showed himself as skilful, and the same was the case with the genealogist of mankind, for he discovered the origin of my Queen and the truth of his words appeared from all quarters. Now ’tis my desire that he do the same with me that I also may know my provenance.” Accordingly they set the man between his hands and he said to him, “O fellow, hast thou the power to tell me mine origin?” Said the Sharper, “Yes, O my lord, I can trace thy descent, but I will so do only upon a condition; to wit, that thou promise me safety41 after what I shall have told thee; for the saw saith, ‘Whilst Sultan sitteth on throne ‘ware his despite, inasmuch as none may be contumacious when he saith ‘Smite.’” Thereupon the Sultan told him, “thou hast a promise of immunity, a promise which shall never be falsed."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent, and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan pledged his word for the safety of the Sharper with the customary kerchief42 and the man said, “O King of the Age, whenas I acquaint thee with thy root and branch, let it be between us twain lest these present hear us.” “Wherefore O man?” asked the Sultan, and the Sharper answered, “O my lord, Allah of Allmight hath among His names ‘The Veiler’;”43 wherefore the King bade his Chamberlains and Eunuchs retire so that none remained in the place save those two. Then the Sharper came forward and said, “O my lord, thou art a son of shame and an issue of adultery.” As soon as the King heard these words his case changed and his colour waxed wan and his limbs fell loose:44 he foamed at the mouth;45 he lost hearing and sight; he became as one drunken without wine and he fell fainting to the ground. After a while he recovered and said to the Sharper, “Now by the truth of Him who hath set me upon the necks of His servants, an thy words be veridical and I ascertain their sooth by proof positive, I will assuredly abdicate my Kingdom and resign my realm to thee, because none deserveth it save thou and it becometh us least of all and every. But an I find thy speech lying I will slay thee.” He replied, “Hearing and obeying;” and the Sovran, rising up without stay or delay, went inside to his mother with grip on glaive, and said to her, “By the truth of Him who uplifted the lift above the earth, an thou answer me not with the whole truth in whatso I ask thee, I will cut thee to little bits with this blade.” She enquired, “What dost thou want with me?” and he replied, “Whose son am I, and what may be my descent?” She rejoined, “Although falsehood be an excuse, fact and truth are superior and more saving. Thou art indeed the very son of a cook. The Sultan that was before thee took me to wife and I cohabited with him a while of time without my becoming pregnant by him or having issue; and he would mourn and groan from the core of his heart for that he had no seed, nor girl nor boy; neither could he enjoy aught of sweet food or sleep. Now we had about the Palace many caged birds; and at last, one day of the days, the King longed to eat somewhat of poultry, so he went into the court and sent for the Kitchener to slaughter46 one of the fowls; and the man applied himself to catching it. At that time I had taken my first bath after the monthly ailment and quoth I to myself, ‘If this case continue with the King he will perish and the Kingdom pass from us.’ And the Shaytan tempted me to that which displeased Allah”— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Queen continued, “And Satan tempted me and made the sin fair in my sight. So I went up to the Kitchener, attired and adorned as I was in my finest apparel and I fell a-jesting with him and provoking him and disporting with him till his passions were excited by me: so he tumbled me at that very hour, after which he arose and slaughtered one of the birds and went his ways. Then I bade the handmaids sprinkle water on the fowl and clean it and cook it; and they did my bidding. After a while symptoms of pregnancy declared themselves in me and became evident; and when the King heard that his Queen was with child, he waxed gladsome and joyful and gave alms and scattered gifts and bestowed robes upon his Officers of State and others till the day of my delivery and I bare a babe — which is thyself. Now at that time the Sultan was hunting and birding and enjoying himself about the gardens all of his pleasure at the prospect of becoming a father; and when the bearer of good news went to him and announced the birth of a man-child he hurried back to me and forthright bade them decorate the capital and he found the report true; so the city adorned itself for forty days in honour of its King. Such is my case and my tale.”47 Thereupon the King went forth from her to the Sharper and bade him doff his dress and when this had been done he doffed his own raiment and habited the man in royal gear and hooded him with the Taylasán48 and asked him saying, “What proof hast thou of my being a son of adultery?” The Sharper answered, “O my lord, my proof was thy bidding our being rationed, after showing the perfection of our skill, with a dish of roast meat and two scones of bread; whereby I knew thee to be of cook’s breed, for the Kings be wont in such case to make presents of money and valuables, not of meat and bread as thou didst, and this evidenced thee to be a bastard King.” He replied, “Sooth thou sayest,” and then robed him with the rest of his robes including the Kalansuwah or royal head-dress under the hood49 and seated him upon the throne of his estate. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive.” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan enthroned the Sharper upon the throne of estate and went forth from him after abandoning all his women to him and assumed the garb of a Darwaysh who wandereth about the world and formally abdicated his dominion to his successor. But when the Sharper-king saw himself in this condition, he reflected and said to himself, “Summon thy whilome comrades and see whether they recognize thee or not.” So he caused them be set before him and conversed with them; then, perceiving that none knew him he gifted them and sent them to gang their gait. And he ruled his realm and bade and forbade and gave and took away and was gracious and generous to each and every of his lieges; so that the people of that region who were his subjects blessed him and prayed for him. Such was the case with the Sharper; but as for
He ceased not wayfaring, as become a wanderer, till he came to Cairo51 city whose circuit was a march of two and a half days and which then was ruled by her own King Mohammed hight. He found the folk in safety and prosperity and good ordinance; and he solaced himself by strolling about the streets to the right and left and he diverted his mind by considering the crowds and the world of men contained in the capital, until he drew near the palace when suddenly he sighted the Sultan returning from the chase and from taking his pleasure. Seeing this the Darwaysh retired to the wayside, and the King happening to glance in that direction, saw him standing and discerned in him the signs of former prosperity. So he said to one of his suite, “Take yon man with thee and entertain him till I send for him.” His bidding being obeyed he entered the Palace and, when he had rested from the fatigues of the way, he summoned the Fakír to the presence and questioned him of his condition, saying, “Thou, from what land art thou?” He responded, “O my lord, I am a beggar man;” and the other rejoined, “There is no help but that thou tell me what brought thee hither.” The Darwaysh retorted, “O my lord, this may not be save in privacy,” and the other exclaimed, “Be it so for thee.” The twain then arose and repaired to a retired room in the Palace and the Fakir recounted to the Sultan all that had befallen him since the loss of his kingship and also how he, a Sultan, had given up the throne of his realm and had made himself a Darwaysh. The Sovran marvelled at his self-denial in yielding up the royal estate and cried, “Laud be to Him who degradeth and upraiseth, who honoureth and humbleth by the wise ordinance of His All-might,” presently adding, “O Darwaysh, I have passed through an adventure which is marvellous; indeed ’tis one of the Wonders of the World52 which I needs must relate to thee nor from thee withhold aught thereof.” And he fell to telling — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King fell to telling the beggar man
17 MS. vol. iii. pp. 96-121. Scott, “Story of the Three Sharpers and the Sultan,” pp. 7-17; Gauttier, Histoire des trois filous et d’un Sulthan, vi. 165-176.
18 Arab. Yasrahú=roaming, especially at early dawn; hence the wolf is called “Sirhán,” and Yaklishu (if I read it aright) is from Kulsh, and equivalent to “kicking” (their heels).
19 Nusf=half a dirham, drachma or franc, see ii. 37; vi. 214, etc.
20 Bast, a preparation of Bhang (Cannabis Sativa), known in Egypt but not elsewhere: see Lane, M. E., chapt. xv. Here it is made synonymous with “Hashísh”=Bhang in general.
21 Ghaushah, a Persianism for which “Ghaughá” is a more common form. “Ghaush” is a tree of hard wood whereof musical instruments were made; hence the mod. words “Ghásha” and “Ghawwasha”=he produced a sound, and “Ghaushah”=tumult, quarrel. According to Dr. Steingass, the synon. in the native dicts. are “Khisám,” “Lag-hat,” “Jalabah,” etc.
22 Said ironicè, the jeweller being held to be one of the dishonest classes, like the washerman, the water-carrier, the gardener, etc. In England we may find his representative in the “silversmith,” who will ask a pound sterling for a bit of metal which cost him perhaps five shillings or even less, and who hates to be bought by weight. The Arab. has “Jauhar-ji,” a Turkish form for Jauhari; and here “jauhar” apparently means a pearl, the stone once peculiar to royalty in Persia, but the kind of gem is left undetermined.
23 Arab. “Sáza, yasízu,” not a dictionary word. Perhaps it is a clerical error for “Sasa,” he groomed or broke in a horse, hence understood all about horses.
24 In the orig. “Shorbah,” Pers.=a mess of pottage: I have altered it for reasons which will presently appear.
25 Arab. “Ghabasah,” from Ghabas=obscure, dust-coloured.
26 Arab. “Súsah”=a weevil, a moth, a worm. It does not mean simply a flaw, but a live animal (like our toads in the rock); and in the popular version of the tale the lapidary discovers its presence by the stone warming in his hand.
27 Arab. “Mashá’íli” the cresset-bearer who acted hangman: see vol. i. 259, etc.
28 Arab. “Ta’kíl,” tying up a camel’s foreleg above the knee; the primary meaning of Akl, which has so many secondary significations.
29 Arab. “Suwán,” lit.=rock, syenite, hard stone, flint; here a marteau de guerre.
30 Arab. “Hálik”=intensely black, so as to look blue under a certain angle of light.
31 Arab. “Rikáb” (=stirrup) + “dár” Pers. (=holder).
32 I have ransacked dictionaries and vocabularies but the word is a mere blank.
33 Arab. “Jámúsah.” These mules are believed in by the Arabs. Shaw and other travellers mention the Mauritanian “Jumart,” the breed between a bull and a mare (or jennyass) or an ass and a cow. Buffon disbelieved in the mongrel, holding it to be a mere bardeau, got by a stallion horse out of an ass. Voltaire writes “Jumarre” after German fashion and Littré derives it from jument + art (finale péjorative), or the Languedoc “Gimere” which according to Diez suggests “Chimæra.” Even in London not many years ago a mule was exhibited as the issue of a horse and a stag. No Indian ever allows his colt to drink buffalo’s milk, the idea being that a horse so fed will lie down in instead of fording or swimming a stream.
34 See Sindbad the Seaman, vol. vi. 9.
35 Arab. “Mubattat” from batt=a duck: in Persia the Batt-i-May is a wine-glass shaped like the duck. Scott (vi. 12) translates “thick and longish.”
36 Arab. “his Harím”; see vol. i. 165; iv. 126. VOL. XIV.
37 Again “he” for she. See vol. ii. 179.
38 Arab. “Gháziyah”: for the plur. “Ghawázi” see vol. i. 214; also Lane (M.E.) index under “Ghazeeyehs.”
39 The figure prothesis without apodosis. Understand “will slay thee”: see vol. vi. 203.
40 Because the girl had not been a professional dancer, i.e a public prostitute.
41 Arab. “Amán”=quarter, mercy: see vol. i. 342.
42 For the “Mandíl” of mercy see vol. i. 343; for that of dismissal x. 47 and Ibn Khall. iv. 211. In Spitta Bey’s “Contes Arabes” (p. 223), I find throwing the kerchief (tarammá al mahramah) used in the old form of choosing a mate. In the Tale of the Sultan of AlYaman and his three Sons (Supplem. Nights, vol. iv.) the Princesses drop their kerchiefs upon the head of the Prince who had saved them, by way of pointing him out.
43 Arab. “Sattár:” see vols. i. 258 and iii. 41.
44 In the text “Arghá” for “Arkhá"=he “brayed” (like an ostrich, etc.) for “his limbs relaxed.” It reminds one of the German missionary’s fond address to his flock, “My prethren, let us bray!”
45 Arab. “Azbad,” from Zbd (Zabd)=foaming, frothing, etc., whence “Zubaydah,” etc.
46 Arab. “Zabh” (Zbh)=the ceremonial killing of animals for food: see vols. v. 391; viii. 44. I may note, as a proof of how modern is the civilisation of Europe that the domestic fowl was unknown to Europe till about the time of Pericles (ob. B.C. 429).
47 See in “The Forty Vizirs” (Lady’s ivth Tale) how Khizr tells the King the origin of his Ministers from the several punishments which they propose for the poor man. I have noticed this before in Night cccxxxiii. Boethius, translated by Chaucer, explains the underlying idea, “All thynges seken ayen to hir propre course and all thynges rejoysen in hir returninge agayne to hir nature.”
48 For the Taylasán hood see vol. iv. 286.
49 The “Kalansuwah”-cap is noted by Lane (A. N. chapt. iii. 22) as “Kalensuweh.” In M. E. (Supplement i. “The Copts”) he alters the word to Kalás’weh and describes it as a strip of woollen stuff, of a deep blue or black colour, about four inches wide, attached beneath the turban and hanging down the back to the length of about a foot. It is the distinguishing mark of the Coptic regular clergy.
50 W. M. MS. vol. iii. pp. 121-141. Scott, “The Adventures of the abdicated Sultan,” pp. 18-19; including the “History of Mahummud, Sultan of Cairo,” pp. 20-30.
51 “Káhirah.” I repeat my belief (Pilgrimage i. 171) that “Káhirah,” whence our “Cairo” through the Italian corruption, means not la victorieuse (Mediant al-Káhirah) as D’Herbelot has it; but City of Kahir or Mars the planet. It was so called because as Richardson informed the world (sub voce) it was founded in A.H. 358 (=A.D. 968) when the warlike planet was in the ascendant by the famous General Jauhar a Dalmatian renegade (not a “Greek slave”) for the first of the Fatimite dynasty Al-Mu’izz li ‘l-dini ‘lláh.
52 According to Caussin de Perceval (père) in his translation of the “Contes Arabes,” there are four wonders in the Moslem world: (1) the Pharos of Alexandria; (2) the Bridge of Sanjia in Northern Syria; (3) The Church of Rohab (Edessa); and (4) the Amawi Mosque of Damascus.
I began my career in the world as a Darwaysh, an asker, owning naught of the comforts and conveniences of life, till at length, one day of the days, I became possessor of just ten silverlings53 (and no more) which I resolved to expend upon myself. Accordingly I walked into the Bazar purposing to purchase somewhat of provaunt. While I was looking around, I espied a man passing by and leading in an iron chain a dog-faced baboon and crying “Haraj!54 this ape is for sale at the price of ten faddahs.” The folk jibed at the man and jeered at his ape; but quoth I to myself, “Buy this beast and expend upon it the ten silverlings.” Accordingly I drew near the seller and said to him, “Take these ten faddahs;” whereupon he took them and gave me the ape which I led to the cell wherein I dwelt. Then I opened the door and went in with my bargain but began debating in my mind what to do and said, “How shall I manage a meal for the baboon and myself?” While I was considering behold, the beast was suddenly transformed, and became a young man fair of favour who had no equal in loveliness and stature and symmetric grace, perfect as the moon at full on the fourteenth night; and he addressed me saying, “O Shaykh Mohammed, thou hast bought me with ten faddahs, being all thou hadst and art debating how we shall feed, I and thou.” Quoth I, “What art thou?” and quoth he, “Query me no questions, concerning whatso thou shalt see, for good luck hath come to thee.” Then he gave me an Ashrafi55 and said, “Take this piece of gold and fare thee forth to the Bazar and get us somewhat to eat and drink.” I took it from him and repairing to the market purchased whatso food our case required; then returning to the cell set the victual before him and seated myself by his side. So we ate our sufficiency and passed that night, I and he, in the cell, and, when Allah caused the morn to dawn, he said to me, “O man, this room is not suitable to us: hie thee and hire a larger lodging.” I replied, “To hear is to obey;” and, rising without stay or delay, went and took a room more roomy in the upper part of the Wakálah.56 Thither we removed, I and the youth, and presently he gave me ten dinars more and said, “Go to the Bazar and buy thee furniture as much as is wanted.” Accordingly, I went forth and bought what he ordered and on my return I found before him a bundle containing a suit of clothes suitable for the Kings. These he gave to me desiring that I hie me to the Hammam and don them after bathing, so I did his bidding and washed and dressed myself and found in each pocket of the many pockets an hundred gold pieces; and presently when I had donned the dress I said to myself, “Am I dreaming or wide awake?”57 Then I returned to the youth in the room and when he saw me he rose to his feet and commended my figure and seated me beside him. Presently he brought up a bigger bundle and bade me take it and repair to the Sultan of the City and at the same time ask his daughter in marriage for myself. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan of Cairo continued:58— So I took it and repaired with it to the King of that city, and a slave whom the youth had bought bore the bundle. Now when I approached the Palace I found thereabout the Chamberlains and Eunuchs and Lords of the Land: so I drew near them and when they saw me in that suit they approved my appearance and questioned me saying, “What be thy business and what dost thou require?” I replied, “My wish is to have audience of the King,” and they rejoined, “Wait a little while till we obtain for thee his permission.” Then one of the ushers went in and reported the matter to the Sultan who gave orders to admit me; so the man came out and led me within and on entering the presence I salamed to the Sovran and wished him welfare and presently set before him the bundle, saying, “O King of the Age, this be in the way of a gift which besitteth my station not thine estate.” The Sultan bade the package be spread out, and he looked into it and saw a suit of royal apparel whose like he never had owned. So he was astonished at the sight and said in his mind, “By Allah, I possess naught like this, nor was I ever master of so magnificent a garment;” presently adding, “It shall be accepted, O Shaykh, but needs must thou have some want or requisition from me.” I replied, “O King of the Age, my wish is to become thy connection through that lady concealed and pearl unrevealed, thy daughter.” When the Sultan heard these words, he turned to his Wazir and said, “Counsel me as to what I should do in the matter of this man?” Said he, “O King of the Age, show him thy most precious stone and say him, ‘An thou have a jewel evening this one it shall be my daughter’s marriage-dowry.’” The King did as he was advised, whereat I was wild with wonderment and asked him, “An I bring thee such a gem wilt thou give me the Princess?” He answered, “Yea, verily!” and I took my leave bearing with me the jewel to the young man who was awaiting me in the room.59 He enquired of me, “Hast thou proposed for Princess?” and I replied, “Yes: I have spoken with the Sultan concerning her, when he brought out this stone, saying to me, ‘An thou have a jewel evening this one, it shall be my daughter’s marriage dowry;’ nor hath the Sultan power to false his word.” The youth rejoined, “This day I can do naught, but to-morrow (Inshallah!) I will bring thee ten jewels like it and these thou shalt carry and present to the Sovran.” Accordingly when the morning dawned he arose and fared forth and after an hour or so he returned with ten gems which he gave me. I took them and repaired with them to the Sultan and, entering the presence, I presented to him all the ten. When he looked upon the precious stones he wondered at their brilliant water and turning to the Wazir again asked him how he should act in this matter. Replied the Minister, “O King of the Age, thou requiredst of him but one jewel and he hath brought thee ten; ’tis therefore only right and fair to give him thy daughter."— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Minister said to the Monarch, “Give him thy daughter.” Accordingly the Sultan summoned the Kazis and the Efendis60 who wrote out the marriage-contract between me and the Princess. Then I returned to the youth who had remained in the room and told him all that had occurred when he said, “’Twere best to conclude the wedding-ceremony and pay the first visit to thy bride at once; but thou shalt on no wise consummate the nuptials until I bid thee go in unto her, after somewhat shall have been done by me.” “Hearing and obeying,” replied I; and, when the night of going in61 came, I visited the Sultan’s daughter but sat apart from her by the side of the room during the first night and the second and the third; nor did I approach her although every day her mother came and asked her the usual question62 and she answered, “He hath never approached me.” So she grieved with sore grief for that ’tis the wont of womankind, when a maid is married and her groom goeth not in unto her, to deem that haply folk will attribute it to some matter which is not wholly right. After the third night the mother reported the case to her father who cried, “This night except he abate her pucelage I will slay him!” The tidings reached my bride who told all to me, so I repaired to the young man and acquainted him therewith. He cried, “When thou shalt visit her say, ‘By Allah, I will not enjoy thee unless thou give me the amulet-bracelet hanging to thy right shoulder.’” I replied, “To hear is to obey;” and, when I went in to her at nightfall, I asked her, “Dost thou really desire me to futter thee?” She answered, “I do indeed;” so I rejoined, “Then give me the amulet-bracelet hanging over thy right shoulder.” She arose forthright and unbound it and gave it to me, whereupon I bled her of the hymeneal blood63 and going to the young man gave him the jewel. Then I returned to my bride and slept by her side till the morning when I awoke and found myself lying outstreched in my own caravanserai-cell. I was wonderstruck and asked myself, “Am I on wake or in a dream?” and I saw my whilome garments, the patched gabardine64 and tattered shirt alone with my little drum;65 but the fine suit given to me by the youth was not on my body nor did I espy any sign of it anywhere. So with fire burning in my heart after what had befallen me, I wandered about crowded sites and lone spots and in my distraction I knew not what to do, whither to go or whence to come; when lo and behold! I found sitting in an unfrequented part of the street a Maghrabi,66 a Barbary man, who had before him some written leaves and was casting omens for sundry bystanders. Seeing this state of things, I came forward and drew near him and made him a salam which he returned; then, after considering my features straitly, he exclaimed, “O Shaykh, hath that Accursed done it and torn thee from thy bride?” “Yes,” I replied. Hereupon he said to me, “Wait a little while,” and seated me beside him; then, as soon as the crowd dispersed he said, “O Shaykh, the baboon which thou boughtest for ten silver bits and which was presently transformed into a young man of Adam’s sons, is not a human of the sons of Adam but a Jinni who is enamoured of the Princess thou didst wed. However, he could not approach her by reason of the charmed bracelet hanging from her right shoulder, wherefore he served thee this sleight and won it and now he still weareth it. But I will soon work his destruction to the end that Jinnkind and mankind may be at rest from his mischief; for he is one of the rebellious and misbegotten imps who break the law of our lord Solomon (upon whom be the Peace!).” Presently the Maghrabi took a leaf and wrote upon it as it were a book. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Maghrabi wrote a writ and signed his name within and sealed it; after which he handed it to me saying, “O Shaykh, take this missive and hie thee herewith to a certain spot where thou must wait and observe those who pass by. Hearten thy heart and when thou shalt see approaching thee a man attended by a numerous train, present to him this scroll for ’tis he who will win for thee thy wish.” I took the note from the Barbary man and fared forth to the place which he had described and ceased not faring till I reached it after travelling all that night and half the next day; then I sat down until darkness set in to await whatso might befal me. When a fourth part of the night had passed, a dazzling glare of lights suddenly appeared from afar advancing towards me; and as it shone nearer, I made out men bearing flambeaux67 and lanthorns, also a train of attendants befitting the Kings. They looked on and considered me whilst my heart fluttered with fear, and I was in sore affright. But the procession defiled and drew off from before me, marching two after two, and presently appeared the chief cortège wherein was a Sultan68 of the Jánn. As he neared me I heartened my heart and advanced and presented to him the letter which he, having halted, opened and read aloud; and it was:—“Be it known to thee, O Sultan of the Jann, that the bearer of this our epistle hath a need which thou must grant him by destroying his foe; and if opposition be offered by any we will do the opponent die. An thou fail to relieve him thou wilt know to seek from me relief for thyself.” When the King of the Jann had read the writ and had mastered its meaning and its mysteries, he forthwith called out to one of his serjeants69 who at once came forward and bade him bring into his presence without delay such-and-such a Jinni who by his spells had wrought round the daughter of the Cairene Sultan. The messenger replied, “Hearing and obeying,” and departed from him and disappearing was absent an hour or thereabouts; after which he and others returned with the Jinni and set him standing before the King who exclaimed, “Wherefore, O Accurst, hast thou wrought ill to this man and done on this wise and on that wise?” He replied, “O my lord, all came of my fondness for the Princess who wore a charm in her armlet which hindered my approaching her and therefore I made use of this man to effect my purpose. I became master of the talisman and won my wish but I love the maiden and never will I harm her.” Now when the Sultan heard these words he said, “Thy case can be after one of two fashions only. Either return the armlet that the man may be reunited with his wife and she with her husband as whilome they were; or contrary me and I will command the headsman strike thy neck.” Now when the Jinni heard this speech (and ’twas he who had assumed the semblance of a dog-faced baboon), he refused and was rebellious to the King and cried, “I will not return the armlet nor will I release the damsel, for none can possess her save myself.” And having spoken in this way he attempted to flee. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Márid would fain have fled from before the King of the Jann, but the Sovran bade other Marids and more forceful arrest him; so they seized him and pinioned him and bound him in chains and collar and dragged him behind the King of the Jann till the latter had reached his place and had summoned him and had taken from him the armlet. Then the Sultan gave order for him to be slain and they slew him. When this was done, I prayed for the charm-armlet and I recovered it after the Marid’s death; they also restored to me my fine suit. So I proceeded to the city which I entered, and as soon as the guards and courtiers saw me, they cried out for joy and said, “This is the son-in-law of the Sultan who was lost!” Hereat all the lieges hurried up to me and received me with high respect and greeted me. But after entering the Palace I proceeded forthright till I reached the apartment set apart by them for myself and my spouse whom I found in a deep sleep and stupefied, as it were; a condition in which she had lain ever since I took from her the talismanic armlet. So I replaced the jewel upon her right shoulder and she awoke and arose and ordered herself; whereat her father and family and the Lords of the Land and all the folk joyed with exceeding joy. After this we lived together in all happiness till the death of her sire who, having no son, named me his successor so that I became what I am. Now when the Darwaysh-Sultan heard all this he was astounded at what happeneth in this world of marvels and miracles; upon which I said to him, “O my brother wonder not; for whatso is predetermined shall perforce be carried out. But thou needs must become my Wazir; because thou art experienced in rule and governance and, since what time my sire-in-law the Sultan died, I have been perplexed in my plight being unable to find me a Minister who can administer the monarchy. So do thou become my Chief Counsellor in the realm.” Thereupon the Darwaysh replied, “Hearkening and obedience.” The Sultan then robed him in a sumptuous robe of honour and committed to him his seal-ring and all other matters pertinent to his office, at the same time setting apart for him a palace, spacious of corners, which he furnished with splendid furniture and wadded carpets and vaiselle and other such matters. So the Wazir took his seat of office and held a Divan or Council of State forthright and commanded and countermanded, and bade and forbade according as he saw just and equitable; and his fame for equity and justice was disproved abroad; insomuch that who ever had a cause or request or other business he would come to the Wazir for ordering whatso he deemed advisable. In this condition he continued for many years till, on a day of the days, the Sultan’s mind was depressed. Upon this he sent after the Minister who attended at his bidding, when he said, “O Wazir, my heart is heavy!” “Enter then,” replied the Minister, “O King, into thy treasury of jewels and rubies and turn them over in thy hands and thy breast will be broadened.” The Sultan did accordingly but it took no effect upon his ennui; so he said, “O Wazir, I cannot win free of this melancholic humour and nothing pleasureth me in my palace; so let us fare forth, I and thou, in disguise.” “Hearing is obeying,” quoth the Minister. The twain then retired into a private chamber to shift their garb and habited themselves as Darwayshes, the Darwayshes of Ajam-land, and went forth and passed through the city right and left till they reached a Máristán, a hospital for lunatics.70 Here they found two young men, one reading the Koran71 and the other hearkening to him, both being in chains like men Jinn-mad; and the Sultan said in his mind, “By Allah, this is a marvel-case,” and bespake the men asking, “Are ye really insane?” They answered saying, “No, by Allah; we are not daft but so admirable are our adventures that were they graven with needle-gravers upon the eye-corners they had been warners to whoso would be warned.” “What are they?” quoth the King, and quoth they, “Each of us, by Allah, hath his own story;” and presently he who had been reading exclaimed, “O King of the Age, hear my tale."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth began relating to the Sultan
53 Arab. “Faddah,” lit.=silver, because made of copper alloyed with nobler metal; the smallest Egyptian coin=Nuss (i.e. Nusf, or half a dirham) and the Turk. paráh. It is the fortieth of the piastre and may be assumed at the value of a quarter-farthing.
54 This word, in Egypt. “Harág,” is the cry with which the Dallál (broker) announces each sum bidden at an auction.
55 The Portuguese Xerafim: Supplemental Nights, vol. iii. 166.
56 A Khan or caravanserai: see vol. i. 266 and Pilgrimage i. 60.
57 Arab. “Hilm” (vision) “au ‘Ilm” (knowledge) a phrase peculiar to this MS.
58 The careless scribe forgets that the Sultan is speaking and here drops into the third person. This “Enallage of persons” is, however, Koranic and therefore classical: Arab critics aver that in such cases the “Hikáyah” (=literal reproduction of a discourse, etc.) passes into an “Ikhbár”=mere account of the same discourse). See Al Mas’údi iii. 216. I dare not reproduce this figure in English.
50 Arab. “Auzah,” the Pers. Oták and the Turk. Otah (vulg. “Oda” whence “Odalisque”), a popular word in Egypt and Syria.
60 Arab. “Al Afandiyah” showing the late date or reduction of the tale. The Turkish word derives from the Romaic Afentis ({Greek letters}) the corrupted O.G.{Greek letters}=an absolute commander, and “authentie.” The word should not be written as usual “Effendi,” but “Efendi,” as Prof. Galland has been careful to do.
61 Arab. “Al-dakhlah”; repeatedly referred to in The Nights. The adventure is a replica of that in “Abu Mohammed highs Lazybones,” vol. iv., pp. 171-174.
62 Usual in the East, not in England, where some mothers are idiots enough not to tell their daughters what to expect on the wedding night. Hence too often unpleasant surprises, disgust and dislike. The most modern form is that of the chloroform’d bride upon whose pillow the bridegroom found a paper pinned and containing the words, “Mamma says you’re to do what you like.”
63 Arab. “Akhaztu dam wajhhi há.”
64 Arab. “Dilk” more commonly “Khirkah,” the tattered and pieced robe of a religious mendicant.
65 Arab. “Darbálah.” Scott (p. 24) must have read “Gharbálah” when he translated “A turban full of holes as a sieve.” In classical Arabic the word is written “Darbalah,” and seems to correspond with the Egyptian “Darábukkah,” a tabor of wood or earthenware figured by Lane (M.E. chapt. xviii.). It is, like the bowl, part of the regular Darwaysh’s begging gear.
66 Vulg. Maghribi. For this word see the story of Alaeddin, Supplem., vol. iii. 31. According to Heron, “History of Maugraby,” the people of Provence, Languedoc and Gascony use Maugraby as a term of cursing: Maugrebleu being used in other parts of France.
67 In text “Fanárát”; the Arab. plur. of the Pers. “Fanár”=a light-house, and here equiv. to the Mod. Gr. {Greek letters}, a lantern, the Egypt. “Fánús.”
68 This Sultan of the Jann preceded by sweepers, flag-bearers and tent-pitchers always appears in the form of second-sight called by Egyptians “Darb al Mandal”=striking the magic circle in which the enchanter sits when he conjures up spirits. Lane (M. E. chapt. xii.) first made the “Cairo Magician” famous in Europe, but Herklots and others had described a cognate practice in India many years before him.
69 Arab, “Jáwúsh” for Cháwush (vulg. Chiaush) Turk.=an army serjeant, a herald or serjeant at arms; an apparitor or officer of the Court of Chancery (not a “Mace-bearer or Messenger,” Scott). See vol. vii. 327.
70 Arab. from Persian “Bímáristán,” a “sick-house,” hospital, a mad-house: see vol. i. 288.
71 The text says only that “he was reading:” sub. the Holy Volume.
I was a merchant and kept a shop wherein were Hindi goods of all kinds and colours, highmost priced articles; and I sold and bought with much profit. I continued in this condition a while of time till one day of the days as I, according to my custom, was sitting in my shop an old woman came up and gave me the good morning and greeted me with the salam. I returned her salute when she seated her upon the shopboard and asked me saying, “O master, hast thou any pieces of choice Indian stuffs?” I replied, “O my mistress, I have with me whatso thou wantest;” and she rejoined, “Bring me forth one of them.” Accordingly I arose and fetched her a Hindi piece of the costliest price and placed it in her hands. She took it and examining it was greatly pleased by its beauty and presently said to me, “O my lord, for how much is this?” Said I, “Five hundred dinars;” whereupon she pulled forth her purse and counted out to me the five hundred gold pieces. Then she took the stuff and went her ways; and I, O our lord the Sultan, had sold to her for five hundred sequins a piece of cloth worth at cost price three hundred and fifty gold pieces. She came to me again, O my lord, on the next day and asked me for another piece; so I rose up and brought her the bundle and she paid me once more five hundred dinars: then she took up her bargain and ganged her gait. She did the same, O my lord, on the third and the fourth day and so on to the fifteenth, taking a piece of stuff from me and paying me regularly five hun- dred golden pieces for each bargain. On the sixteenth behold, she entered my shop as was her wont, but she found not her purse; so she said to me, “O Khwájah,73 I have left my purse at home.” Said I, “O my lady, an thou return ’tis well and if not thou art welcome to it.” She sware she would not take it and I, on the other hand, sware her to carry it off as a token of love and friendship.74 Thereupon debate fell between us, and I, O our lord the Sultan, had made muchel of money by her and, had she taken two pieces gratis, I would not have asked questions anent them. At last she cried, “O Khwajah, I have sworn an oath and thou hast sworn an oath, and we shall never agree except thou favour me by accompanying me to my house so thou mayest receive the value of the stuff, when neither of us will have been forsworn: therefore lock up thy shop lest anything be lost in thine absence.” Accordingly I bolted my door and went with her, O our lord the Sultan, and we ceased not walking, conversing the while we walked, I and she, until we neared her abode when she pulled out a kerchief from her girdle and said, “’Tis my desire to bind this over thine eyes.” Quoth I, “For what cause?” and quoth she, “For that on our way be sundry houses whose doors are open and the women are sitting in the vestibules of their homes, so that haply thy glance may alight upon some one of them, married or maid, and thy heart become engaged in a love-affair and thou abide distraight, because in this quarter of the town be many fair faces, wives and virgins, who would fascinate even a religious, and wherefore we are alarmed for thy peace of mind.” Upon this I said in myself, “By Allah, this old woman is able of advice;” and I consented to her requirement, when she bound the kerchief over my eyes and blindfolded me. Then we walked on till we came to the house she sought; and when she rapped with the door-ring a slave-girl came out and opening the door let us in. The old body then approached me and unbound the kerchief from over my eyes; whereupon I looked around me, holding myself to be a captive, and I found me in a mansion having sundry separate apartments in the wings and ’twas richly decorated resembling the palaces of the Kings. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this com- pared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth pursued:— By Allah, O our lord the Sultan, of that house I never saw the fellow. She then bade me hide within a room and I did her bidding in a corner place where beside me I beheld heaped together and cast down in that private site all the pieces of stuff which the ancient dame had purchased of me. Seeing this I marvelled in my mind and lo! appeared two damsels as they were moons and came down from an upper story till they stood on the ground-floor; after which they cut a piece of cloth into twain and each maiden took one and tucked up her sleeves. They then sprinkled the court of that palace with water of the rose and of the orange-flower,75 wiping the surface with the cloth and rubing it till it became as silver; after which the two girls retired into an inner room and brought out some fifty chairs76 which they set down, and placed over each seat a rug77 with cushions of brocade. They then carried in a larger chair of gold and placed upon it a carpet with cushions of orfrayed work and after a time they withdrew. Presently, there descended from the staircase, two following two, a host of maidens in number till they evened the chairs and each one of them sat down upon her own, and at last suddenly appeared a young lady in whose service were ten damsels, and she walked up to and they seated her upon the great chair. When I beheld her, O my lord the Sultan, my right senses left me and my wits fled me and I was astounded at her loveliness and her stature and her symmetric grace as she swayed to and fro in her pride of beauty and gladsome spirits amongst those damsels and laughed and sported with them. At last she cried aloud, “O mother mine!” when the ancient dame answered her call and she asked her, “Hast thou brought the young man?” The old woman replied, “Yes, he is present between thy hands;” and the fair lady said, “Bring him hither to me!” But when I heard these words I said to myself, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Doubtless when this damsel shall have discovered my being in such hiding place she will bid them do me die.” The old woman then came forwards to me and led me before the young lady seated on the great chair; and, when I stood in her presence, she smiled in my face and saluted me with the salam and welcomed me; after which she signed for a seat to be brought and when her bidding was obeyed set it close beside her own. She then commanded me to sit and I seated me by her side. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth pursued:— She seated me beside her, O our lord the Sultan, and fell to talking and joking with me for an hour or so when she said, “O youth, what sayest thou of me and of my beauty and my loveliness? Would Heaven that I could occupy thy thought and please thee so that I might become to thee wife and thou be to me man.” When I heard these her words I replied, “O my lady, how dare I presume to attain such honour? Indeed I do not deem myself worthy to become a slave between thy hands.” Hereupon said she, “Nay, O young man, my words have in them nor evasion nor alteration; so be not disheartened or fearful of returning me a reply, for that my heart is fulfilled of thy love.” I now understood, O our lord the Sultan, that the damsel was desirous of marrying me; but I could not conceive what was the cause thereof or who could have given her intelligence concerning me. She continued to enjoy herself in the gladsomest way till at length I was emboldened to say to her, “O my lady, an thy words to me be after the fashion of thy will, remember the proverb, ‘When a kindness is to be done, this is its time.’” “By Allah, O youth, there cannot be a more fortunate day than this present.” “O my lady, what shall I apportion to thee for dowry?” “The dowry hath been paid to me in the value of the stuffs which thou entrustedst to this ancient dame who is my mother!” “That cannot suffice.” “By Allah, naught shall be added; but, O youth, ’tis my intention forthright to send after the Kazi and his Asses- sors and I will choose me a trustee78 that they may tie together us twain without delay; and thou shalt come in to me this coming evening. But all such things be upon one condition.” “And what may be thy condition?” “This, that thou swear never to address or to draw near any woman save myself.” And I, O our lord the Sultan, being unmarried and eager to possess so beautiful a bride, said to her, “This be thine; and I will never contrary thee by word or by deed.” She then sent to summon the Kazi and his witnesses and appointed an agent; upon which they knotted the knot. After the marriage ceremony was ended she ordered coffee79 and sherbets and gave somewhat of dirhams to the Kazi and a robe of honour to her trustee; and this done, all went their several ways. I was lost in astonishment and said in my mind, “Do I dream or am I on wake?” She then commanded her damsels to clear the Hammam-bath and cleanse it and fill it afresh and get ready towels and waist-cloths and silken napkins80 and scented woods and essences, as virgin ambergris and ottars and perfumes of vari-coloured hues and kinds. And when they had executed her orders, she ordered the Eunuchry standing in her service to take me and bear me to the Bath, largessing each one with a sumptuous dress. They led me into a Hammam which had been made private and I saw a place tongue is powerless to portray. And as we arrived there they spread vari-coloured carpets upon which I sat me down and doffed what clothing was upon me: then I entered the hot rooms and smelt delicious scents diffused from the sides of the hall, sandal-wood, Comorin lign-aloes and other such fragrant substances. Here they came up to me and seated me, lathering me with perfumed soaps and shampoo’d me till my body became silver-bright; when they fetched the metal tasses and I washed with water luke-warm after which they brought me cold water mingled with rose water and I sprinkled it over me. After this they supplied me with silken napkins and drying-towels of palm-fibre81 wherewith I rubbed me and then repaired to the cool room outside the calidarium82 where I found a royal dress. The Eunuchry arrayed me therein and after fumigating me with the smoke of lign-aloes served up somewhat of confections83 and coffee and sherbets of sundry sorts; so I drank after eating the Ma’jun. About eventide I left the Baths with all the Eunuchry in attendance on me and we walked till we entered the Palace and they led me into a closet spread with kingly carpets and cushions. And behold, she came up to me attired in a new habit more sumptuous than that I had seen her wearing erewhile. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth continued:— And I, O our lord the Sultan, went into the closet and behold, she met me wearing a habit of the most sumptuous: so when I sighted her she seemed to me from the richness of her ornaments like an enchanted hoard wherefrom the talisman had been newly removed. She sat down beside me and bent lovingly over me and I rose up for I could no longer contain my passion and wrought that work which was to be worked.84 Presently she again disappeared but soon returned in vestments even richer than the last and she did with me as before and I embraced her once more. In short, O our lord the Sultan, we ceased not dwelling together, I and she, in joyaunce and enjoyment, laughter and disport and delicious converse for a space of twenty days. At the end of this time I called to mind my lady-mother, and said to the dame I had espoused, “O my lady, ’tis long since I have been absent from home and ’tis long since my parent hath seen me or wotteth aught concerning me: needs must she be pining and grieving for my sake. So do thou give me leave to visit her and look after my mother and also after my shop.” Quoth she, “No harm in that: thou mayst visit thy mother daily and busy thyself about thy shop-business; but this ancient dame (my mother) is she who must lead thee out and bring thee back.” Whereto I replied, “’Tis well.” Upon this the old woman came in and tied a kerchief over my eyes according to custom and fared forth with me till we reached the spot where she had been wont to remove the bandage. Here she unbound it saying, “We’ll expect thee to-morrow about noontide and when thou comest to this place, thou shalt see me awaiting thee.” I left her and repaired to my mother whom I found grieving and weeping at my absence; and upon seeing me she rose up and threw her arms round my neck with tears of joy. I said, “Weep not, O my mother, for the cause of my absence hath been a certain matter which be thus and thus.” I then related to her my adventure and she on hearing it was rejoiced thereby and exclaimed, “O my son, may Allah give thee gladness; but I pray thee solace me85 at least every two days with a visit that my longing for thee may be satisfied.” I replied,“This shall be done;” and thenceforth, O our lord the Sultan, I went to my shop and busied myself as was my wont till noontide, when I returned to the place appointed and found the old woman awaiting me. Nor did I ever fare forth from the mansion without her binding my eyes with the kerchief which she loosed only when we reached my own house; and whenever I asked her of this she would answer, “On our way be sundry houses whose doors are open and the women sitting in the vestibules of their homes, so that haply thy glance may alight upon some one of them, matron or maid: all sniff up love like water,86 and we fear for thee lest thy heart be netted in the net of amours.“For thirty days, a whole month, I continued to go and come after this fashion but, O our lord the Sultan, at all times and tides I was drowned in thought and wondered in my mind, saying, “What chance caused me forgather with this damsel? What made me marry her? Whence this wealth which is under her hand? How came I to win union with her?” For I knew not the cause of all this. Now, on a day of the days, I found an opportunity of being private with one of her black slave girls87 and questioned her of all these matters that concerned her mistress. She replied, “O my lord, the history of my lady is marvellous; but I dare not relate it to thee in fear lest she hear thereof and do me die.” So I said to her, “By Allah, O handmaid of good, an thou wilt say me sooth I will veil it darkly for in the keeping of secrets there is none like myself: nor will I reveal it at any time.” Then I took oath of secrecy when she said, “O my lord,"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth continued:— Then the handmaiden said to me, “O my lord, my lady went forth one day of the days to the Hammam with the object of pleasuring and of diverting herself, for which purpose she made goodly preparation including gifts and presents,88 matters worth a mint of money.89 After leaving the baths she set out upon an excursion to eat the noon-day meal in a flower garden where she enjoyed herself with exceeding joy and enjoyment, eating and drinking till the evening; and when she designed to depart she collected the fragments of the feast and distributed them amongst the mean and the mesquin. On her return she passed through the Bazar-street wherein standeth thy shop, and it was a Friday when thou wast sitting, adorned with thy finest dress, in converse with the nearest neighbour. And suddenly as she fared by, she beheld thee in such state and her heart was stricken with sore stroke of love albeit none of us observed her condition and what affection she had conceived for thee. However, no sooner had she reached her palace than her melancholy began to grow upon her with groans and her cark and care, and her colour left her: she ate and drank little and less and her sleep forsook her and her frame was sorely enfeebled till at last she took to her bed. Upon this her mother went to summon a learned man90 or a mediciner that he might consider the condition of her daughter and what sickness had gotten about her: she was absent for an hour and returned with an ancient dame who took seat beside her and putting forth her hand felt the patient’s pulse. But she could perceive in her no bodily ailment or pain, upon which the old woman understood her case, but she durst not bespeak her of it nor mention to her mother that the girl’s heart was distraught by love. So she said, ‘There is no harm to thee! and (Inshallah!) to-morrow I will return hither to thee and bring with me a certain medicine.’ She then went forth from us and leading the mother to a place apart, said to her, ‘O my lady, Allah upon thee, pardon me for whatso I shall mention and be thou convinced that my words are true and keep them secret nor divulge them to any.’ The other replied, ‘Say on and fear not for aught which hath become manifest to thee of my daughter’s unweal: haply Allah will vouchsafe welfare.’ She rejoined, ‘Verily, thy daughter hath no bodily disorder or malady of the disease kind but she is in love and there can be no cure for her save union with her beloved.’ Quoth the mother, ‘And how about the coming of her sweetheart? This is a matter which may not be managed except thou show us some contrivance whereby to bring this youth hither and marry him to her. But contriv- ance is with Allah.’ Then the old lady went her ways forthright and the girl’s mother sought her daughter and said to her after kindly fashion, ‘O my child, as for thee thy disorder is a secret and not a bodily disease. Tell me of him thou requirest and fear naught from me; belike Allah will open to us the gate of con- trivance whereby thou shalt win to thy wish.’ Now when the maiden heard these words she was abashed before her parent and kept silence, being ashamed to speak; nor would she return any reply for the space of twenty days. But during this term her distraction increased and her mother ceased not to repeat the same words, time after time, till it became manifest to the parent that the daughter was madly in love with a young man; so at last quoth she, ‘Describe him to me.’ Quoth the other, ‘O mother mine, indeed he is young of years and fair of favour; also he woneth in such a Bazar, methinks on its southern side.’ Therewith the dame arose without stay or delay and fared forth to find the young man and ’tis thyself, O youth! And when the mother saw thee she took from thee a piece of cloth and brought it to her daughter and promised thou shouldst visit her. Thence- forwards she ceased not repeating her calls to thee for the period thou wottest well until by her cunning she brought thee hither; and that happened which happened and thou didst take the daughter to wife. Such is her tale and beware lest thou reveal my disclosure.” “No, by Allah,” replied I. Then the lunatic resumed speaking to the Sultan:— O my lord, I continued to cohabit with her for the space of one month, going daily to see my mother and to sell in my shop and I returned to my wife every evening blindfolded and guided as usual by my mother-in-law. Now one day of the days as I was sitting at my business, a damsel came into the Bazar-street. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth continued:— A damsel came into the Bazar-street bearing the image of a cock made of precious ore and crusted with pearls and rubies and other gems; and she offered it to the goodmen91 of the market for sale. So they opened the biddings at five hundred dinars and they ceased not contending92 thereanent till the price went up to nine hundred and fifty gold pieces. All this time and I looked on nor did I interfere by speaking a syllable or by adding to the biddings a single bit of gold. At last, when none would offer aught more, the girl came up to me and said, “O my lord, all the gentlemen have increased their biddings for the cock; but thou hast neither bidden nor heartened my heart by one kind word.” Quoth I, “I have no need thereof;” and quoth she, “By Allah, needs must thou bid somewhat more than the others.” I replied, “Since there is no help for it, I will add fifty dinars which will fill up the thousand.” She rejoined, “Allah gar thee gain!”93 So I fared into my shop to fetch the money, saying in my mind, “I will present this curiosity to my Harim: haply ’twill pleasure her.” But when I was about, O my lord the Sultan, to count out the thousand ducats, the damsel would not accept aught of me but said, “I have a request to make of thee, O youth! to wit, that I may take one kiss from thy cheek.” I asked her, “For what purpose?” and she answered, “I want one kiss of thy cheek which shall be the price of my cock, for I need of thee naught else.” I thought to myself, “By Allah, a single kiss of my cheek for the value of a thousand sequins were an easy price;” and I gave my consent thereto, O my lord. Then she came up to me and leaned over me and bussed my cheek, but after the kiss she bit me with a bite which left its mark:94 then she gave me the cock and went her ways in haste. Now when it was noon I made for my wife’s house and came upon the old woman awaiting me at the customed stead and she bound the kerchief over my eyes and after blindfolding them fared with me till we reached our home when she unbound it. I found my wife sitting in the saloon dressed from head to foot in cramoisy95 and with an ireful face, whereupon I said to myself, “O Saviour,96 save me!” I then went up to her and took out the cock which was covered with pearls and rubies, thinking that her evil humour would vanish at the sight of it and said, “O my lady, accept this cock for ’tis curious and admirable to look upon; and I bought it to pleasure thee.” She put forth her hand and taking it from me examined it by turning it rightwards and leftwards; then exclaimed, “Didst thou in very sooth buy this on my account?” Replied I, “By Allah, O my lady, I bought it for thee at a thousand gold pieces.” Hereupon she shook her head at me, O my lord the Sultan, and cried out after a long look at my face, “What meaneth that bite on thy cheek?” Then with a loud and angry voice she called to her women who came down the stairs forthright bearing the body of a young girl with the head cut off and set upon the middle of the corpse;97 and I looked and behold, it was the head of the damsel who had sold me the cock for a kiss and who had bitten my cheek. Now my wife had sent her with the toy by way of trick, saying to her, “Let us try this youth whom I have wedded and see if he hold himself bound by his plighted word and pact or if he be false and foul.” But of all this I knew naught. Then she cried a second cry and behold, up came three handmaids bearing with them three cocks like that which I had brought for her and she said, “Thou bringest me this one cock when I have these three cocks; but inasmuch as, O youth, thou hast broken the covenant that was between me and thee, I want thee no more: go forth! wend thy ways forthright!” And she raged at me and cried to her mother, “Take him away!”98— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Youth continued to the King:— Hereupon the old woman, O my lord, hent me by the hand and bound the kerchief over my eyes as was her wont and led me to the customed place when she loosed the bandage saying, “Begone!” and disappeared. But I, O my lord, became like a madman and ran through the streets as one frantic crying, “Ah her loveliness! Ah her stature! Ah her perfect grace! Ah her ornaments!” Hereupon the folk seeing me and hearing me say these words shouted out, “Yonder is a lunatic;” so they seized me perforce and jailed me in the madhouse as thou hast seen me, O our lord the Sultan. They say, “This man is Jinn-mad;” but, by Allah, I am no maniac, O my lord, and such is my tale. Hereat the King marvelled and bowed his brow groundwards for a while in deep thought over this affair: then he raised his head and turning to his Minister said, “O Wazir, by the truth of Him who made me ruler of this realm, except thou discover the damsel who married this youth, thy head shall pay forfeit.” The Wazir was consterned to hear the case of the young man; but he could not disobey the royal commandment so he said, “Allow me three days of delay, O our lord the Sultan;” and to this much of grace the King consented. Then the Wazir craved dismissal and would have taken the Youth with him; when the Sultan cried, “As soon as thou shalt have hit upon the house, the young man will go into it and come forth it like other folk.” He replied, “Hearkening and obedience.” So he took the Youth and went out with aching head and giddy as a drunken man, perplexed and unknowing whither he should wend; and he threaded the city streets from right to left and from east to west, tarrying at times that he might privily question the folk. But naught discovered himself to him and he made certain of death. In this condition he continued for two days and the third till noontide, when he devised him a device and said to the Youth, “Knowest thou the spot where the old woman was wont to blindfold thine eyes?” He replied, “Yes.” So the Minister walked on with him till the young man exclaimed, “Here, ’tis this!”99 The Wazir then said, “O Youth, knowest thou the door-ring wherewith she was wont to rap and canst thou distinguish its sound?” He said, “I can.” Accordingly, the Wazir took him and went the round of all the houses in that quarter and rapped with every door-ring asking him, “Is’t this?” and he would answer, “No.” And the twain ceased not to do after such fashion until they came to the door where the appointment had taken place without risk threatened;100 and the Wazir knocked hard at it and the Youth, hearing the knock, exclaimed, “O my lord, verily this be the ring without question or doubt or uncertainty.” So the Minister knocked again with the same knocker and the slave-girls threw open the door and the Wazir, entering with the Youth, found that the palace belonged to the daughter of the Sultan who had been succeeded by his liege lord.101 But when the Princess saw the Minister together with her spouse, she adorned herself and came down from the Harem and salam’d to him. Thereupon he asked her, “What hath been thy business with this young man?” So she told him her tale from first to last and he said, “O my lady, the King commandeth that he enter and quit the premises as before and that he come hither without his eyes being bandaged with the kerchief.” She obeyed and said, “The commandments of our lord the Sultan shall be carried out.” Such was the history of that youth whom the Sultan heard reading the Koran in the Máristán, the public madhouse: but as regards the second Lunatic who sat listening, the Sultan asked him, “And thou, the other, what be thy tale?” So he began to relate the
72 MS. vol. iii., pp. 142-168. Scott, “Story of the First Lunatic,” pp. 31 44. Gauttier, Histoire du Premier Fou, vol. vi. 187. It is identical with No. ii. of Chavis and Cazotte, translated by C. de Perceval, Le Bimaristan (i.e. the Hospital), ou Histoire du jeune Marchand de Bagdad et de la Dame inconnue (vol. viii. pp. 179-180). Heron terms it the “Story of Halechalbe (Ali Chelebi?) and the Unknown Lady,” and the narrative is provided with a host of insipid and incorrect details, such as “A gentleman enjoying his pipe.” The motif of this tale is common in Arab. folk lore, and it first appears in the “Tale of Azíz and Azízah,” ii. 328. A third variant will occur further on.
73 Spelt in vol. iii. 143 and elsewhere, “Khwájá” for “Khwájah.”
74 Arab. “Hubban li-raasik,"=out of love for thy head, i.e. from affection for thee. Dr. Steingass finds it analogous with the Koranic “Hubban li ‘llahi” (ii. 160), where it is joined with “Ashaddu”=stronger, as regards love to or for Allah, more Allah loving. But it can stand adverbially by itself=out of love for Allah, for Allah’s sake.
75 Arab. “Zahr,” lit. and generically a blossom; but often used in a specific sense throughout The Nights.
76 Arab. “Kursi” here=a square wooden seat without back and used for sitting cross-legged. See Suppl. vol. i. 9.
77 Arab. “Sujjádah”=lit. a praying carpet, which Lane calls “Seggádeh.”
78 Arab. “Wakíl,” lit.=agent: here the woman’s representative, corresponding roughly with the man who gives away the bride amongst ourselves.
79 The mention of coffee and sherbet, here and in the next page, makes the tale synchronous with that of Ma’arúf or the xviith. century.
80 The MS. writes “Zardakát” for “Zardakhán”: see below.
81 Scott (p. 36) has “mahazzim (for maházim), al Zerdukkaut (for al-Zardakhán)” and “munnaskif (for manáshif) al fillfillee.” Of the former he notes (p. 414) “What this composition is I cannot define: it may be translated compound of saffron, yoke of egg or of yellowish drugs.” He evidently confounds it with the Pers. Zard-i-Kháyah=yoke of egg. Of the second he says “compound of peppers, red, white and black.” Lane (The Nights, vol. i. p. 8) is somewhat scandalised at such misrepresentation, translating the first “apron-napkins of thick silk,” and the second “drying towels of Líf or palm-fibre,” further suggesting that the text may have dropped a conjunction=drying towels and fibre.
82 Arab. “Líwàn al-barrání,” lit.=the outer bench in the “Maslahk” or apodyterium.
83 Arab. “Ma’jún,” pop. applied to an electuary of Bhang (Cannabis sativa): it is the “Maagoon” sold by the “Maagungee” of Lane (M.E. chapt. xv.). Here, however, the term may be used in the sense of “confections” generally, the sweetmeats eaten by way of restoratives in the Bath.
84 He speaks of taking her maidenhead as if it were porter’s work and so defloration was regarded by many ancient peoples. The old Nilotes incised the hymen before congress; the Phœnicians, according to Saint Athanasius, made a slave of the husband’s abate it. The American Chibchas and Caribs looked upon virginity as a reproach, proving that the maiden had never inspired love. For these and other examples see p. 72, chap. iii. “L’Amour dans l’Humanité,” by P. Mantegazza, a civilised and unprejudiced traveller.
85 Arab. “Zill,” lit. “shadow me.”
86 Arab. “Istinshák,” one of the items of the “Wuzú” or lesser ablution: see vol. v. 198.
87 In Chavis her name is “Zaliza” and she had “conceived an unhappy passion” for her master, to whom she “declared her sentiments without reserve.”
88 Arab. “Armaghánát,” the Arab. plur. of “Armaghán,” Pers.=a present.
89 In the text, “jumlatun min al-mál,” which Scott apparently reads “Hamlat al-jamal” and translates (p. 38) “a camel’s load of treasure.”
90 The learned man was to exorcise some possible “evil spirit” or “the eye,” a superstition which seems to have begun, like all others, with the ancient Egyptians.
91 The MS., I have said, always writes “Khwájá” instead of “Khwájah” (plur. “Khwájat”): for this word, the modern Egyptian “Howájah,” see vol. vi. 46. Here it corresponds with our “goodman.”
92 Arab. “Yatazáwadú"=increasing.
93 By which she accepted the offer.
94 This incident has already occurred in the tale of the Portress (Second Lady of Baghdad, vol. i. 179), but here the consequences are not so tragical. In Chavis the vulgar cock becomes “a golden Censer ornamented with diamonds, to be sold for two thousand sequins” (each=9 shill.).
95 A royal sign of wrath generally denoting torture and death. See vols. iv. 72; vi. 250.
96 Arab. “Yá Sallám,” addressed to Allah.
97 Here more is meant than meets the eye. When a Moslem’s head was struck off, in the days of the Caliphate, it was placed under his armpit, whereas that of a Jew or a Christian was set between his legs, close to the seat of dishonour.
98 In Chavis and Cazotte the lady calls to “Morigen, her first eunuch, and says, Cut off his head!” Then she takes a theorbo and “composed the following couplets”— of which the first may suffice:
Since my swain unfaithful proves,
Let him go to her he loves, etc., etc.
99 The device has already occurred in “Ali Baba.”
100 Arab. “Al-ma’húd min ghayr wa’d.”
101 In Chavis and Cazotte the king is Harun al-Rashid and the masterfl young person proves to be Zeraida, the favourite daughter of Ja’afar Bermaki; whilst the go-between is not the young lady’s mother but Nemana, an old governess. The over-jealous husband in the Second Lady of Baghdad (vol. i. 179) is Al-Amín, son and heir of the Caliph Marun al-Rashid.
“O my lord,” quoth the young man, “my case is marvellous, and haply thou wilt desire me to relate it in order continuous;” and quoth the Sultan, “Let me hear it."— And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the second youth said:— O my lord the Sultan, I am by calling a merchant man and none of the guild was younger, I having just entered my sixteenth year. Like my fellows I sold and bought in the Bazar every day till, one day of the days, a damsel came up to me and drew near and handed to me a paper which I opened; and behold, it was full of verses and odes in praise of myself, and the end of the letter contained the woman’s name professing to be enamoured of me. When I read it I came down from my shopboard, in my folly and ignorance, and putting forth my hand seized the girl and beat her till she swooned away.103 After this I let her loose and she went her ways and then I fell into a brown study saying to myself, “Would Heaven I wot whether the girl be without relations or if she have kith and kin to whom she may complain and they will come and bastinado me.” And, O our lord the Sultan, I repented of what I had done whenas repentance availed me naught and this lasted me for twenty days. At the end of that time as I was sitting in my shop according to my custom, behold, a young lady entered and she was sumptuously clad and sweetly scented and she was even as the moon in its fullness on the fourteenth night. When I gazed upon her my wits fled and my sane senses and right judgment forsook me and I was incapable of attending to aught save herself. She then came up and said, “O youth, hast thou by thee a variety of metal ornaments?” and said I, “O my lady, of all kinds thou canst possibly require.” Hereupon she wished to see some anklets which I brought out for her, when she put forth her feet to me and showing me the calves of her legs said, “O my lord, try them on me.” This I did. Then she asked for a necklace104 and I produced one when she unveiled her bosom and said, “Take its measure on me:” so I set it upon her and she said, “I want a fine pair of bracelets,” and I brought to her a pair when, extending her hands and displaying her wrists to me she said, “Put them on me.” I did so and presently she asked me, “What may be the price of all these?” when I exclaimed, “O my lady, accept them from me in free gift;” and this was of the excess of my love to her, O King of the Age, and my being wholly absorbed in her. Then quoth I to her, “O my lady, whose daughter art thou?” and quoth she, “I am the daughter of the Shaykh al-Islám.”105 I replied, “My wish is to ask thee in marriage of thy father,” and she rejoined, “’Tis well: but, O youth, I would have thee know that when thou askest me from my sire he will say, ‘I have but one daughter and she is a cripple and deformed even as Satíh was.106 Do thou, however, make answer that thou art contented to accept her and if he offer any remonstrance cry, ‘I’m content, content!’” I then enquired, “When shall that be?” and she replied, “Tomorrow about undurn hour107 come to our house and thou wilt find my sire, the Shaykh al-Islam, sitting with his companions and intimates. Then ask me to wife.” So we agreed upon this counsel and on the next day, O our lord the Sultan, I went with several of my comrades and we repaired, I and they, to the house of the Shaykh al-Islam, whom I found sitting with sundry Grandees about him. We made our salams which they returned and they welcomed us and all entered into friendly and familiar conversation. When it was time for the noon-meal the tablecloth108 was spread and they invited us to join them, so we dined with them and after dinner drank coffee. I then stood up saying, “O my lord, I am come hither to sue and solicit thee for the lady concealed and the pearl unrevealed, thy daughter.” But when the Shaykh al-Islam heard from me these words he bowed his head for awhile groundwards — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth resumed:— Now when the Shaykh al-Islam heard from me those words he bowed his brow groundwards for a while in deep thought concerning the case of his daughter who was a cripple and wondrously deformed. For the damsel who had told me of her had played me a trick and served me a sleight, I all the time knowing nothing about her guile. Presently he raised his head and said to me, “By Allah, O my son, I have a daughter but she is helpless.” Quoth I, “I am content;” and quoth he, “An thou take her to wife after this description, ’tis on express condition that she be not removed from my house and thou also shalt pay her the first visit and cohabit with her in my home.” I replied, “To hear is to obey;” being confident, O King of the Age, that she was the damsel who had visited my shop and whom I had seen with my own eyes. Thereupon the Shaykh al-Islam married his daughter to me and I said in my mind, “By Allah, is it possible that I am become master of this damsel and shall enjoy to my full her beauty and loveliness?” But when night fell they led me in procession to the chamber of my bride; and when I beheld her I found her as hideous as her father had described her, a deformed cripple. At that moment all manner of cares mounted my back and I was full of fury and groaned with grief from the core of my heart; but I could not say a word, for that I had accepted her to wife of my own free will and had declared myself contented in presence of her sire. So I took seat silently in a corner of the room and my bride in another, because I could not bring myself to approach her, she being unfit for the carnal company of man and my soul could not accept cohabitation with her. And at dawntide, O my lord the Sultan, I left the house and went to my shop which I opened according to custom and sat down with my head dizzy like one drunken without wine; when lo! there appeared before me the young lady who had caused happen to me that mishap. She came up and salam’d to me but I arose with sullenness and abused her and cried, “Wherefore, O my lady, hast thou put upon me such a piece of work?” She replied, “O miserable,109 recollect such a day when I brought thee a letter and thou after reading it didst come down from thy shop and didst seize me and didst trounce me and didst drive me away.” I replied, “O my lady, prithee pardon me for I am a true penitent;” and I ceased not to soften her with soothing110 words and promised her all weal if she would but forgive me. At last she deigned excuse me and said, “There is no harm for thee; and, as I have netted thee, so will I unmesh thee.” I replied, “Allah! Allah!111 O my lady, I am under thy safeguard;” and she rejoined, “Hie thee to the Aghá of the Janákilah,112 the gypsies, give him fifty piastres and say him, ‘We desire thee to furnish us with a father and a mother and cousins and kith and kin, and do thou charge them to say of me, This is our cousin and our blood relation.’ Then let him send them all to the house of the Shaykh al-Islam and repair thither himself together with his followers, a party of drummers and a parcel of pipers. When they enter his house and the Shaykh shall perceive them and exclaim, ‘What’s this we’ve here?’ let the Agha reply, ‘O my lord, we be kinsmen with thy son-in-law and we are come to gladden his marriage with thy daughter and to make merry with him.’ He will exclaim, ‘Is this thy son a gypsey musician?’ and do thou explain, saying, ‘Aye, verily I am a Jankali;’ and he will cry out to thee, ‘O dog, thou art a gypsey and yet durst thou marry the daughter of the Shaykh al-Islam?’ Then do thou make answer, ‘O my lord, ’twas my ambition to be ennobled by thine alliance and I have espoused thy daughter only that the mean name of Jankali may pass away from me and that I may be under the skirt of thy protection.’” Hereat, O my lord the Sultan, I arose without stay and delay and did as the damsel bade me and agreed with the Chiefs of the Gypsies for fifty piastres.113 On the second day about noon lo and behold! all the Janákilah met before the house of the Shaykh al-Islam and they, a tom-toming and a-piping and a-dancing, crowded into the courtyard of the mansion. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth continued:— So the Janákilah entered the house of the Shaykh al-Islam all a-drumming and a-dancing. Presently the family came out and asked, “What is to do? And what be this hubbub?” The fellows answered, “We are gypsey-folk and our son is in your house having wedded the daughter of the Shaykh al-Islam.” Hearing these words the family went up and reported to its head, and he, rising from his seat, descended to the courtyard which he found full of Jankalis. He enquired of them their need and they told him that the youth, their kinsman, having married the daughter of the house, they were come to make merry at the bride-feast. Quoth the Shaykh, “This indeed be a sore calamity that a gypsey should espouse the daughter of the Shaykh al-Islam. By Allah, I will divorce her from him.” So he sent after me, O our lord the Sultan, and asked me saying, “What is thy breed and what wilt thou take to be off with thyself?” Said I, “A Jankali; and I married thy daughter with one design namely to sink the mean name of a gypsey drummer in the honour of connection and relationship with thee.” He replied, “’Tis impossible that my daughter can cohabit with thee: so up and divorce her.” I rejoined, “Not so: I will never repudiate her.” Then we fell to quarrelling but the folk interposed between us and arranged that I should receive forty purses114 for putting her away. And when he paid me the moneys I gave her the divorce and took the coin and went to my shop, rejoicing at having escaped by this contrivance. On the next day, behold, came the damsel who had taught me the sleight and saluted me and wished me good morning. I returned her salam and indeed, O our lord the Sultan, she was a model of beauty and loveliness, stature and symmetrical grace and my heart was enmeshed in her love for the excess of her charms and the limpid flow of her speech and the sweetness of her tongue. So I said to her, “And when this promise?” and said she, “I am the daughter of Such-andsuch, a cook in such a quarter; and do thou go ask me in marriage of him.” So I rose up with all haste and went to her father and prayed that he would give her to me. And presently I wedded her and went in unto her and found her as the full moon of the fourteenth night and was subjugated by her seemlihead. Such, then, is the adventure which befel me; but, O my lord the Sultan, the Story of the Sage Such-an-one and his Scholar is more wonderful and delectable; for indeed ’tis of the marvels of the age and among the miracles which have been seen by man. Thereupon the Sovran bade him speak, and the Second Lunatic proceeded to recount the
102 Vol. iii. pp. 168-179: and Scott’s “Story of the Second Lunatic,” pp. 45-51. The name is absurdly given as the youth was anything but a lunatic; but this is Arab symmetromania. The tale is virtually the same as “Women’s Wiles,” in Supplemental Nights, vol. ii. 99-107.
103 This forward movement on the part of the fair one is held to be very insulting by the modest Moslem. This incident is wanting in “Women’s Wiles.”
104 Arab. “Labbah,” usually the part of the throat where ornaments are hung or camels are stabbed.
105 The chief of the Moslem Church. For the origin of the office and its date (A.D. 1453) see vols. ix. 289, and x. 81.
106 Arab. “Satíhah”=a she-Satih: this seer was a headless and neckless body, with face in breast, lacking members and lying prostrate on the ground. His fellow, “Shikk,” was a half-man, and both foretold the divine mission of Mohammed. (Ibn Khall. i. 487.)
107 Arab. “Wakt al-Zuhà;” the division of time between sunrise and midday.
108 In the text “Sufrah”=the cloth: see vol. i. 178, etc.
109 Arab. “Ya Tinjír,” lit.=O Kettle.
110 Arab. “Tari,” lit.=wet, with its concomitant suggestion, soft and pleasant like desert-rain.
111 Here meaning “Haste, haste!” See vol. i. 46.
112 The chief man (Aghá) of the Gypsies, the Jink of Egypt whom Turkish soldiers call Ghiovendé, a race of singers and dancers; in fact professional Nautch-girls. See p. 222, “Account of the Gypsies of India,” by David MacRitchie (London, K. Paul, 1886), a most useful manual.
113 Arab. “Kurúsh,” plur of. “Kirsh” (pron. “Girsh”), the Egyptian piastre=one-fifth of a shilling. The word may derive from Karsh=collecting money; but it is more probably a corruption of Groschen, primarily a great or thick piece of money and secondarily a small silver coin=3 kreuzers=1 penny.
114 The purse (“Kís”) is=500 piastres (kurúsh)=£5; and a thousand purses compose the Treasury (“Khaznah”)=£5,000.
There was in times of yore and in ages long gone before a learned man who had retired from the world secluding himself in an upper cell of a Cathedral-mosque, and this place he left not for many days save upon the most pressing needs. At last a beautiful boy whose charms were unrivalled in his time went in to him and salam’d to him. The Shaykh returned the salute and welcomed him with the fairest welcome and courteously entreated him seating him beside himself. Then he asked him of his case and whence he came and the boy answered, “O my lord, question me not of aught nor of my worldly matters, for verily I am as one who hath fallen from the heavens upon the earth116 and my sole object is the honour of tending thee.” The Sage again welcomed him and the boy served him assiduously for a length of time till he was twelve years old. Now on one day of the days117 the lad heard certain of his fellows saying that the Sultan had a daughter endowed with beauty whose charms were unequalled by all the Princesses of the age. So he fell in love with her by hearsay. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the lad who served the Sage fell in love with the Sultan’s daughter by hearsay. Presently he went in to his master and told him thereof adding, “O my lord, verily the King hath a daughter beautiful and lovesome and my soul longeth to look upon her an it be only a single look.” The Shaykh asked him saying, “Wherefore, O my son? What have the like of us to do with the daughters of Sovrans or others? We be an order of eremites and selfcontained and we fear the Kings for our own safety.” And the Sage continued to warn the lad against the shifts of Time and to divert him from his intent; but the more words he uttered to warn him and to deter him, the more resolved he became to win his wish, so that he abode continually groaning and weeping. Now this was a grievous matter to the good Shaykh who loved him with an exceeding love passing all bounds; and when he saw him in this condition he exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great.” And his heart was softened and he had ruth upon the case of his scholar and pitied his condition, and at last said to him, “O my son, dost thou truly long to look but a single look at the Sultan’s daughter?” Quoth he, “Yes, O my lord,” and quoth the other, “Come hither to me.” Accordingly he came up to him and the Shaykh produced a Kohl-pot and applied the powder to one of his scholar’s eyes, who behold, forthright became such that all who saw him cried out, “This is a half-man.”118 Then the Sage bade him go about the city and the youth obeyed his commands and fared forth; but whenas the folk espied him they cried out, “A miracle! a miracle! this be a half-man!” And the more the youth walked about the streets the more the folk followed him and gazed upon him for diversion and marvelled at the spectacle; and as often as the great men of the city heard of him they sent to summon him and solaced themselves with the sight and said, “Laud to the Lord! Allah createth whatso He wisheth and commandeth whatso He willeth as we see in the fashioning of this half-man.” The youth also looked freely upon the Harims of the Grandees, he being fairer than any of them; and this case continued till the report reached the Sultan who bade him be brought into the presence, and on seeing him marvelled at the works of the Almighty. Presently the whole court gathered together to gaze at him in wonderment and the tidings soon reached the Queen who sent an Eunuch to fetch him and introduce him into the Serraglio. The women all admired the prodigy and the Princess looked at him and he looked at her; so his fascination increased upon him and he said in his secret soul, “An I wed her not I will slay myself!” After this the youth was dismissed by the Sultan’s Harim and he, whose heart burned with love for the King’s daughter, returned home. The Shaykh asked him, “Hast thou, O my son, seen the Princess?” and he answered, “I have, O my master; but this one look sufficeth me not, nor can I rest until I sit by her side and fill myself with gazing upon her.” Quoth he, “O my child, we be an ascetic folk that shun the world nor have we aught to do with enmeshing ourselves in the affairs of the Sultan, and we fear for thee, O my son.” But the youth replied, “O my lord, except I sit by her side and stroke her neck and shoulders with these my hands, I will slay myself.” Hereupon the Sage said in his mind, “I will do whatso I can for this good youth and perchance Allah may enable him to win his wish.” He then arose and brought out the Kohl-pot and applied the powder to his scholar’s either eye; and, when it had settled therein, it made him invisible to the ken of man. Then he said, “Go forth, O my son, and indulge thy desire; but return again soon and be not absent too long.” Accordingly the youth hastened to the Palace and entering it looked right and left, none seeing him the while, and proceeded to the Harem where he seated himself beside the daughter of the Sultan. Still none perceived him until, after a time, he put forth his hand and softly stroked her neck. But as soon as the Princess felt the youth’s touch, she shrieked a loud shriek heard by all ears in the Palace and cried “I seek refuge with Allah from Satan, the stoned!” At this proceeding on the girl’s part all asked her saying, “What is to do with thee?” Whereto she answered, “Verily some Satan hath this instant touched me on the neck.” Upon this her mother was alarmed for her and sent for her nurse119 and when informed of what had befallen the girl the old woman said, “If there be aught of Satans here naught is so sovereign a specific to drive them away and keep them off as the smoke of camel’s dung.”120 Then she arose and brought thereof a quantity which was thrown into the fire and presently it scented and pervaded the whole apartment. All this and the Youth still sat there without being seen. But when the dung-smoke thickened, his eyes brimmed and he could not but shed tears, and the more smoke there was the more his eyes watered and big drops flowed till at last all the Kohl was washed off and trickled down with the tears. So he became visible a-middlemost the royal Harem; and, when the dames descried him, all shrieked one shriek, each at other, upon which the Eunuchry rushed in; then, finding the young man still seated there, they laid hands upon him and haled him before the Sultan to whom they reported his crime and how he had been caught lurking in the King’s Serraglio a-sitting beside the Princess. Hearing this, the Sovran bade summon the Headsman and committed to him the criminal bidding him take the youth and robe him in a black habit bepatched with flamecolour;121 then, to set him upon a camel and, after parading him through Cairo city and all the streets, to put him to death. Accordingly the executioner took the Youth. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Linkman took the youth and fared forth with him from the palace: then he looked at him and found him fair of form and favour, a sans peer in loveliness, and he observed that he showed no fear nor shrinking from death. So he had pity upon him and his heart yearned to him and he said in his mind, “By Allah, attached to this young man is a rare history.” Then he brought a leathern gown which he put upon him, and the flamey black habit which he passed over his arms: and setting him upon a camel as the Sultan had commanded, at last carried him in procession crying out the while, “This is the award and the least award of him who violateth the Harem of the King;” and he threaded the streets till they came to the square before the great Mosque wherein was the Shaykh. Now as all the folk were enjoying the spectacle, the Sage looked out from the window of his cell and beheld the condition of his scholar. He was moved to ruth and reciting a spell he summoned the Jann and bade them snatch the young man off the camel’s back with all care and kindness and bring him to his cell; and he also commanded an ‘Aun of the ‘Auns122 to seize some oldster and set him upon the beast in lieu of the Youth. They did as he bid them for that he had taken fealty of the Jann and because of his profound studies in the Notaricon123 and every branch of the art magical. And when all the crowd saw the youth suddenly transformed into a grey-beard they were awe-stricken and cried, “Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord — the young man hath become an old man!” They then looked again and behold, they saw a person well-known amongst the lieges, one who had long been wont to sell greens and colocasia at the hostelry gate near the Cathedral-mosque. Now the headsman noting this case was confounded with sore affright; so he returned to the palace with the oldster seated on the camel and went in to the Sultan followed by all the city-folk who were gazing at the spectacle. Then he stood before the King and the eunuchry and did homage and prayed for the Sovran and said, “O our lord the Sultan, verily the Youth hath vanished, and in lieu of him is this Shaykh well known to the whole city.” Hearing these words the King was startled; sore fear entered his heart and he said to himself, “Whoso hath been able to do this deed can do e’en more: he can depose me from my kingship or he can devise my death.” So his affright increased and he was at a loss how to contrive for such case. Presently he summoned his Minister and when he came into the presence said to him, “O Wazir, advise me how to act in the affair of this Youth and what measures should be taken.” The Minister bowed his brow groundwards in thought for a while, then raising it he addressed the Sultan and said, “O King of the Age, this be a thing beyond experience, and the doer must be master of a might we comprehend not and haply he may work thee in the future some injury and we fear from him for thy daughter. Wherefore the right way is that thou issue a royal autograph and bid the Crier go round about the city and cry saying, ‘Let him who hath wrought this work appear before the King under promise of safety and again safety — safety on the word of a Sultan which shall never be falsed.’ Should the Youth then surrender himself, O King of the Age, marry him to thy daughter when perhaps his mind may be reconciled to thee by love of her. He hath already cast eyes upon her and he hath seen the inmates of thy Harem unrobed, so that naught can save their honour but his being united with the Princess.” Hereupon the Sultan indited an autographic rescript and placed it in the Crier’s hands even as the Wazir had counselled: and the man went about the streets proclaiming, “By Command of the just King! whoso hath done this deed let him discover himself and come to the Palace under promise of safety and again safety, the safety of sovereigns — safety on the word of a Sultan which shall never be falsed.” And the Crier ceased not crying till in fine he reached the square fronting the great Mosque. The Youth who was standing there heard the proclamation and returning to his Shaykh said, “O my lord, the Crier hath a rescript from the Sultan and he crieth saying, ‘Whoso hath done this deed let him discover himself and come to the Palace under promise of safety and again safety — safety on the word of a Sultan which shall never be falsed.’ And, I must go to him perforce.” Said the Sage, “O my son, why shouldst thou do on such wise? Hast thou not already suffered thy sufficiency?” But the young man exclaimed, “Nothing shall prevent my going;” and at this the Shaykh replied, “Go then, O my son, and be thy safeguarding with the Living, the Eternal.” Accordingly, the Youth repaired to the Hammam and having bathed attired himself in the richest attire he owned, after which he went forth and discovered himself to the Crier who led him to the Palace and set him before the Sovran. He salamed to the Sultan and did him obeisance and prayed for his long life and prosperity in style the most eloquent, and proffered his petition in verse the most fluent. The Sultan looked at him (and he habited in his best and with all of beauty blest), and the royal mind was pleased and he enquired saying, “Who art thou, O Youth?” The other replied, “I am the Half-man whom thou sawest and I did the deed whereof thou wottest.” As soon as the King heard this speech he entreated him with respect and bade him sit in the most honourable stead, and when he was seated the twain conversed together. The Sultan was astounded at his speech and they continued their discourse till they touched upon sundry disputed questions of learning, when the Youth proved himself as superior to the Sovran as a dinar is to a dirham: and to whatever niceties of knowledge the monarch asked, the young man returned an allsufficient answer, speaking like a book. So the Sultan abode confounded at the eloquence of his tongue and the purity of his phrase and the readiness of his replies; and he said in his mind, “This Youth is as worthy to become my daughter’s mate as she is meet to become his helpmate.” Then he addressed him in these words, “O Youth, my wish is to unite thee with my daughter and after thou hast looked upon her and her mother none will marry her save thyself.” The other replied, “O King of the Age, I am ready to obey thee, but first I must take counsel of my friends.” The King rejoined, “No harm in that: hie thee home and ask their advice.” The Youth then craved leave to retire and repairing to his Shaykh — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Youth then craved leave to retire and, repairing to his Shaykh, informed him of what had passed between himself and the Sultan and said to him, “’Tis also my wish, O my lord, to marry his daughter.” The Sage replied, “There be no fault herein if it be lawful wedlock: fare thee forth and ask her in marriage.” Quoth the Youth, “But I, O my lord, desire to invite the King to visit us;” and quoth the Sage, “Go invite him, O my son, and hearten thy heart.” The Youth replied, “O my lord, since I first came to thee and thou didst honour me by taking me into thy service, I have known none other home save this narrow cell wherein thou sittest, never stirring from it by night or by day. How can we invite the King hither?” The Sage rejoined, “O my son, do thou go invite him relying upon Allah, the Veiler who veileth all things, and say to him, ‘My Shaykh greeteth thee with the salam and inviteth thee to visit him next Friday.’” Accordingly, the Youth repaired to the King and saluted him and offered his service and blessed him with most eloquent tongue and said, “O King of the Age, my Shaykh greeteth thee and sayeth to thee, ‘Come eat thy pottage124 with us next Friday,’” whereto the Sultan replied, “Hearing is consenting.” Then the Youth returned to the Sage and waited upon him according to custom, longing the while for the coming of Friday. On that day the Sage said to the Youth, “O my son, arise with me and I will show thee what house be ours, so thou mayst go fetch the King.” Then he took him and the two walked on till they came upon a ruin in the centre of the city and the whole was in heaps, mud, clay, and stones. The Sage looked at it and said, “O my son, this is our mansion; do thou hie thee to the King and bring him hither.” But the Youth exclaimed, “O my lord, verily this be a ruinous heap! How then can I invite the Sultan and bring him to such an ill place? This were a shame and a disgrace to us.” Quoth the Sage, “Go and dread thou naught.” Upon this the Youth departed saying in himself, “By Allah, my Shaykh must be Jinn-mad and doubtless he confoundeth in his insanity truth and untruth.” But he stinted not faring till he reached the Palace and went in to the Sultan whom he found expecting him; so he delivered the message, “Deign honour us, O my lord, with thy presence.”125 Hereupon the King arose without stay or delay and took horse, and all the lords of the land also mounted, following the Youth to the place where he told them his Shaykh abode. But when they drew near it they found a royal mansion and eunuchry standing at the gates in costliest gear as if robed from a talismanic hoard. When the young man saw this change of scene, he was awe-struck and confounded in such way that hardly could he keep his senses, and he said to himself, “But an instant ago I beheld with mine own eyes this very place a ruinous heap: how then hath it suddenly become on this same site a Palace such as belongeth not to our Sultan? But I had better keep the secret to myself.” Presently the King alighted as also did his suite, and entered the mansion, and whenas he inspected it he marvelled at the splendour of the first apartment, but the more narrowly he looked the more magnificent he found the place, and the second more sumptuous than the first. So his wits were bewildered thereat till he was ushered into a spacious speak-room where they found the Shaykh sitting on one side of the chamber126 to receive them. The Sultan salam’d to him whereupon the Sage raised his head and returned his greeting but did not rise to his feet. The King then sat him down on the opposite side when the Shaykh honoured him by addressing him and was pleased to converse with him on various themes; all this while the royal senses being confounded at the grandeur around him and the rarities in that Palace. Presently the Shaykh said to his Scholar, “Knock thou at this door and bid our breakfast be brought in.” So the young man arose and rapped and called out, “Bring in the breakfast;” when lo! the door was opened and there came out of it an hundred Mamelukes127 of the Book, each bearing upon his head a golden tray, whereon were set dishes of precious metals; and these, which were filled with breakfast-meats of all kinds and colours, they ranged in order before the Sultan. He was surprised at the sight for that he had naught so splendid in his own possession; but he came forwards and ate, as likewise did the Shaykh and all the courtiers until they were satisfied. And after this they drank coffee and sherbets, and the Sultan and the Shaykh fell to conversing on questions of lore: the King was edified by the words of the Sage who on his part sat respectfully between the Sovran’s hands. Now when it was well nigh noon, the Shaykh again said to his Scholar, “Knock thou at that door and bid our noonday-meal be brought in.” He arose and rapped and called out, “Bring in the dinner;” when lo! the door opened of itself and there came out of it an hundred white slaves all other than the first train and each bearing a tray upon his head. They spread the Sufrah-cloth before the Sultan and ranged the dishes, and he looked at the plates and observed that they were of precious metals and stones; whereat he was more astonished than before and he said to himself, “In very deed this be a miracle!” So all ate their sufficiency when basins and ewers, some of gold and others of various noble ores, were borne round and they washed their hands, after which the Shaykh said, “O King, at how much hast thou valued for us the dower of thy daughter?” The Sovran replied, “My daughter’s dower is already in my hands.” This he said of his courtesy and respect, but the Shaykh replied, “Marriage is invalid save with a dower.” He then presented to him a mint of money and the tie of wedlock was duly tied; after which he rose and brought for his guest a pelisse of furs such as the Sultan never had in his treasury and invested him therewith and he gave rich robes to each and every of his courtiers according to their degree. The Sultan then took leave of the Shaykh and accompanied by the Scholar returned to the Palace. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan took with him the Scholar and they fared till they reached the citadel and entered the Palace, during which time the King was pondering the matter and wondering at the affair. And when night came he bade them get ready his daughter that the first visit might be paid to her by the bridegroom. They did his bidding and carried the Youth in procession to her and he found the apartment bespread with carpets and perfumed with essences; the bride, however, was absent. So he said in his mind, “She will come presently albeit now she delayeth;” and he ceased not expecting her till near midnight, whilst the father and the mother said, “Verily the young man hath married our daughter and now sleepeth with her.” On this wise the Youth kept one reckoning and the Sultan and his Harem kept another till it was hard upon dawn — all this and the bridegroom watched in expectation of the bride. Now when the day brake, the mother came to visit her child expecting to see her by the side of her mate; but she could not find a trace of her, nor could she gather any clear tidings of her. Accordingly she asked the Youth, her son-in-law, who answered that since entering the apartment he had expected his bride but she came not to him nor had he seen a sign of her. Hereupon the Queen shrieked and rose up calling aloud upon her daughter, for she had none other child save that one. The clamour alarmed the Sultan who asked what was to do and was informed that the Princess was missing from the Palace and had not been seen after she had entered it at eventide. Thereupon he went to the Youth and asked him anent her, but he also told him that he had not found her when the procession led him into the bridal chamber. Such was the case with these; but as regards the Princess, when they conducted her to the bridal room before the coming of the bridegroom, a Jinni128 of the Márids, who often visited the royal Harem, happened to be there on the marriage-night and was so captivated by the charms of the bride that he took seat in a corner, and upon her entering and before she was ware snatched her up and soared with her high in air. And he flew with her till he reached a pleasant place of trees and rills some three months’ journey from the city, and in that shady place he set her down But he wrought her no bodily damage and every day he would bring her whatso she wanted of meat and drink and solaced her by showing her the rills and trees. Now this Jinni had changed his shape to that of a fair youth fearing lest his proper semblance affright her, and the girl abode in that place for a space of forty days. But the father, after failing to find his daughter, took the Youth and repaired to the Shaykh in his cell, and he was as one driven mad as he entered and complained of the loss of his only child. The Shaykh hearing these words dove into the depths of meditation for an hour: then he raised his head and bade them bring before him a chafing-dish of lighted charcoal. They fetched all he required and he cast into the fire some incenses over which he pronounced formulae of incantation, and behold! the world was turned topsy-turvy and the winds shrieked and the earth was canopied by dust-clouds whence descended at speed winged troops bearing standards and colours.129 And amiddlemost of them appeared three Sultans of the Jánn all crying out at once “Labbayka! Labbayk! Adsumus, hither we speed to undertake thy need.” The Shaykh then addressed them, saying, “My commandment is that forthright ye bring me the Jinni who hath snatched away the bride of my son,” and they said, “To hear is to obey,” and at once commanded fifty of their dependent Jinns to reconduct the Princess to her chamber and to hale the culprit before them. These orders were obeyed: they disappeared for an hour or so and suddenly returned, bringing the delinquent Jinni in person; but as for the Sultan’s daughter, ten of them conveyed her to her Palace, she wotting naught of them and not feeling aught of fear. And when they set the Jinni before the Shaykh, he bade the three Sultans of the Jann burn him to death and so they did without stay or delay. All this was done whilst the Sovran sat before the Shaykh, looking on and listening and marvelling at the obedience of that host and its Sultans and their subjection and civil demeanour in presence of the Elder. Now as soon as the business ended after perfectest fashion, the Sage recited over them a spell and all went their several ways; after which he bade the King take the Youth and conduct him to his daughter. This bidding was obeyed and presently the bridegroom abated the maidenhead of the bride, what while her parents renewed their rejoicings over the recovery of their lost child. And the Youth was so enamoured of the Princess that he quitted not the Harem for seven consecutive days. On the eighth the Sultan was minded to make a marriage-banquet and invited all the city-folk to feast for a whole month and he wrote a royal rescript and bade proclaim with full publicity that, according to the commands of the King’s majesty, the wedding-feast should continue for a month, and that no citizen, be he rich or be he poor, should light fire or trim lamp in his own domicile during the wedding of the Princess; but that all must eat of the royal entertainment until the expiry of the fete. So they slaughtered beeves and stabbed camels in the throat and the kitcheners and carpet-spreaders were commanded to prepare the stables, and the officers of the household were ordered to receive the guests by night and by day. Now one night King Mohammed of Cairo said to his Minister, “O Wazir, do thou come with me in changed costume and let us thread the streets and inspect and espy the folk: haply some of the citizens have neglected to appear at the marriage-feast.” He replied, “To hear is to obey.” So the twain after exchanging habits for the gear of Persian Darwayshes went down to the city and there took place
115 MS. vol. iii. pp. 179-303. It is Scott’s “Story of the Retired Sage and his Pupil, related to the Sultan by the Second Lunatic,” vi. pp. 52-67; and Gauttier’s Histoire du Sage, vi. 199-2l4. The scene is laid in Cairo.
116 Meaning that he was an orphan and had, like the well-known widow, “seen better days.”
117 The phrase, I have noted, is not merely pleonastic: it emphasises the assertion that it was a chance day.
118 An old Plinian fable long current throughout the East. It is the Pers. Ním-chihreh, and the Arab Shikk and possibly Nasnás=nisf al-Nás (?) See vol. v. 333. Shikk had received from Allah only half the form of a man, and his rival diviner Satíh was a shapeless man of flesh without limbs. They lived in the days of a woman named Tarífah, daughter of Al-Khayr al-Himyarí and wife of Amrú bin ‘Amir who was famous for having intercourse with the Jann. When about to die she sent for the two, on account of their deformity and the influence exercised upon them by the demons; and, having spat into their mouths, bequeathed to them her Jinni, after which she departed life and was buried at Al-Johfah. Presently they became noted soothsayers; Shikk had issue but Satih none; they lived 300 (some say 600) years, and both died shortly before the birth of the Prophet concerning whom they prophesied. When the Tobba of Al-Yaman dreamed that a dove flew from a holy place and settled in the Tihámah (lowland-seaboard) of Meccah, Satih interpreted it to signify that a Prophet would arise to destroy idols and to teach the best of faiths. The two also predicted (according to Tabari) to Al-Rabí‘ah, son of Nasr, a Jewish king of Al-yaman, that the Habash (Abyssinians) should conquer the country, govern it, and be expelled, and after this a Prophet should arise amongst the Arabs and bring a new religion which all should embrace and which should endure until Doomsday. Compare this with the divining damsel in Acts xvi. 16-18.
119 Arab. “Kahramánah;” the word has before been explained as a nurse, a duenna, an Amazon guarding the Harem. According to C. de Perceval (pè MultinationalA Roman”>Pre) it was also the title given by the Abbasides to the Governess of the Serraglio.
120 So in the Apocrypha (“Tobias” vi. 8). Tobit is taught by the Archangel Raphael to drive away evil spirits (or devils) by the smoke of a bit of fish’s heart. The practice may date from the earliest days when “Evil Spirits” were created by man. In India, when Europeans deride the existence of Jinns and Rakshasas, and declare that they never saw one, the people receive this information with a smile which means only, “I should think not! you and yours are worse than any of our devils.”
121 An Inquisitorial costume called in the text “Shámiyát bi al-Nár.”
122 A tribe of the Jinn sometimes made synonymous with “Márid” and at other times contrasted with these rebels, as in the Story of Ma’aruf and J. Scott’s “History of the Sultan of Hind” (vol. vi. 195). For another note see The Nights, iv. 88.
123 Arab. “‘Ilm al-Hurúf,” not to be confounded with the “‘Ilm al-Jumal,” or “Hisáb Al-Jumal,” a notation by numerical values of the alphabet. See Lumsden’s Grammar of the Persian Language, i. 37.
124 Like our “Cut your mutton,” or manger la soupe or die suppe einzunehmen. For this formula meaning like the Brazilian “cup of water,” a grand feast, see vol. vii. 168.
125 Arab. “Tafazzal,” a most useful word employed upon almost all occasions of invitation and mostly equivalent to “Have the kindness,” etc. See vol. ii. 103.
126 The Shaykh for humility sits at the side, not at the “Sadr,” or top of the room; but he does not rise before the temporal power. The Sultan is equally courteous and the Shaykh honours him by not keeping silence.
127 Arab. “Miat Mamlúk kitábí,” the latter word meaning “one of the Book, a Jew” (especially), or a Christian.
128 This MS. prefers the rare form “Al-Jánn” for the singular.
129 These flags, I have noticed, are an unfailing accompaniment of a Jinn army.
The Sultan and the Wazir threaded the broadways of the city and they noted the houses and stood for an hour or so in each and every greater thoroughfare, till they came to a lane, a cul-de-sac wherethrough none could pass, and behold, they hit upon a house containing a company of folk. Now these were conversing and saying, “By Allah, our Sultan hath not acted wisely nor hath he any cause to be proud, since he hath made his daughter’s bride-feast a vanity and a vexation and the poor are excluded therefrom. He had done better to distribute somewhat of his bounty amongst the paupers and the mesquin, who may not enter his palace nor can they obtain aught to eat.” Hearing this the Sultan said to the Wazir, “By Allah, needs must we enter this place;” and the Minister replied, “Do whatso thou willest.” Accordingly the King went up to the door and knocked, when one came out and asked, “Who is at the door?” The Sultan answered, “Guests;” and the voice rejoined, “Welcome to the guests;” and the door was thrown open. Then they went in till they reached the sitting-room where they found three men of whom one was lame, the second was broken-backed and the third was split-mouthed.131 And all three were sitting together in that place. So he asked them, “Wherefore sit ye here, ye three, instead of going to the Palace?” and they answered him, “O Darwaysh, ’tis of the weakness of our wits!” The King then turned to his Minister and said, “There is no help but thou must bring these three men into my presence, as soon as the wedding-fêtes be finished, that I may enquire into what stablished their imbecility."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan said to the Wazir, “Needs must thou bring these three men into my presence, as soon as the wedding-fêtes be finished, and we will enquire into what proved their imbecility.” Then quoth the King to them, “Wherefore fare ye not, ye three, and eat of the royal banquet day by day?” and quoth they, “O Darwaysh, we are crippled folk who cannot go and come, for this be grievous to us; but, an the Sultan would assign to us somewhat of victual, and send it hither, we would willingly eat thereof.” He rejoined, “What knoweth the Sultan that ye sit in this place?” and they retorted, “Ye be Darwayshes who enter everywhere: so when ye go in to him, tell him our tale; haply shall Almighty Allah incline his heart uswards.” The King asked them, “Be you three ever sitting together in this stead?” and they answered, “Yea, verily: we never leave one another by night or by day.” Then the King and the Minister rose up and having presented them with a few silvers took leave and departed. Now it was midnight when they reached a tenement wherein sat three girls with their mother spinning and eating; and each one appeared fairer than her fellows, and at times they sang and then they laughed and then they talked. The Sultan said to the Wazir, “There is no help but we enter to these damsels;” whereto the Minister replied “What have we to do with going near them? Let them be as they are!” The Sultan, however, rejoined, “Needs must we enter,” and the Wazir retorted, “Hearkening and obedience;” and he rapped at the door when one of the sisterhood cried out, “Who knocketh in this gloom of the night?” The Minister answered, “We are two Darwayshes, guests and strangers;” and the girl rejoined, “We are maidens with our mother and we have no men in our house who can admit you; so fare ye to the marriage-feast of the Sultan and become ye his guests.” The Minister continued, “We are foreigners and we know not the way to the Palace and we dread lest the Chief of Police happen upon us and apprehend us at this time o’ night. We desire that you afford us lodging till daylight when we will go about our business and you need not expect from us aught save respect and honourable treatment.” Now when the mother heard this, she pitied them and bade one daughter open the door. So the damsel threw it open and the Sultan and Wazir entered and salam’d and sat down to converse together; but the King gazed upon the sisters and marvelled at their beauty and their loveliness, and said in his mind, “How cometh it that these maidens dwell by themselves unmated and they in such case?” So quoth he to them, “How is it ye lack husbands, you being so beautiful, and that ye have not a man in the house?” Quoth the youngest, “O Darwaysh, hold thy tongue132 nor ask us of aught, for our story is wondrous and our adventures marvellous. But ‘ware thy words and shorten thy speech; verily hadst thou been the Sultan and thy companion the Wazir an you heard our history haply ye had taken compassion upon our case.” Thereupon the King turned to the Minister and said, “Up with us and wend we our ways; but first do thou make sure of the place and affix thy mark upon the door.” Then the twain rose up and fared forth but the Wazir stood awhile and set a sign upon the entrance and there left his imprint; after which the twain returned to the Palace. Presently the youngest sister said to her mother, “By Allah, I fear lest the Darwayshes have made their mark upon our door to the end that they may recognise it by day; for haply the twain may be the King and his Minister.” “What proof hast thou of this?” asked the mother, and the daughter answered, “Their language and their questioning which were naught save importunity!” And saying this she went to the door where she found the sign and mark. Now besides the two houses to the right and to the left were fifteen doors, so the girl marked them all with the same mark set by the Wazir.133 But when Allah had caused the day to dawn, the King said to the Minister, “Go thou and look at the sign and make sure of it.” The Wazir went as he was commanded by the Sultan, but he found all the doors marked in the same way, whereat he marvelled and knew not nor could he distinguish the door he sought. Presently he returned and reported the matter of the door-marks to the King who cried, “By Allah, these girls must have a curious history! But when the bride-feast is finished we will enquire into the case of the three men who are weak-witlings and then we will consider that of the damsels who are not.” As soon as the thirtieth feast-day passed by, he invested with robes of honour all the Lords of his land and the high Officers of his estate and matters returned to their customed course. Then he sent to summon the three men who had professed themselves weak of wits and they were brought into the presence, each saying of himself, “What can the King require of us?” When they came before him he bade them be seated and they sat; then he said to them, “My requirement is that ye relate to me proofs of the weakness of your minds and the reason of your maims.” Now the first who was questioned was he of the broken back, and when the enquiry was put to him he said, “Deign to favour me with an answer O our Lord the Sultan, on a matter which passed through my mind.” He replied, “Speak out and fear not!” So the other enquired, “How didst thou know us and who told thee of us and of our weakly wits?” Quoth the King, “’Twas the Darwaysh who went in to you on such a night;” and quoth the broken-backed man, “Allah slay all the Darwayshes who be tattlers and tale-carriers!” Thereupon the Sultan turned to the Wazir and laughing said, “We will not reproach them for aught: rather let us make fun of them,” adding to the man, “Recite, O Shaykh.” So he fell to telling
130 MS. vol. iii. pp. 203-210; Scott, “Night Adventure of the Sultan,” pp. 68-71. Gauttier, Aventure nocturne du Sulthan, vi. 214.
131 Arab. “Mashrút shadak.” Ashdak is usually applied to a wide-chapped face, like that of Margaret Maultasch or Mickle-mouthed Meg. Here, however, it alludes to an accidental deformity which will presently be described.
132 Arab. “Amsik lisána-k”: the former word is a standing “chaff” with the Turks, as in their tongue it means cunnus-penis and nothing else. I ever found it advisable when speaking Arabic before Osmanlis, to use some such equivalent as Khuz=take thou.
133 This is the familiar incident in “Ali Baba”: Supplem. vol iii. 231, etc.
I began life, O King of the Age, as a Schoolmaster and my case was wondrous. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Shaykh continued. — I began life, O my lord, as a Schoolmaster, and my tale with the boys was wondrous. They numbered from sixty to seventy, and I taught them to read and I inculcated due discipline and ready respect esteeming these a part of liberal education; nor did I regard, O King of the Age, the vicissitudes of Time and Change; nay, I held them with so tight a rein that whenever the boys heard me sneeze135 they were expected to lay down their writing-tablets and stand up with their arms crossed and exclaim, “Allah have ruth upon thee, O our lord!” whereto I would make reply, “Allah deign pardon us and you!” And if any of the lads failed or delayed to join in this prayer I was wont to bash him with a severe bashing. One day of the days they asked leave to visit the outskirts of the town for liberty and pleasuring136 and when I granted it they clubbed their pittances for a certain sum of money to buy them a noonday meal. So we went forth to the suburbs and there found verdure and water, and we enjoyed ourselves that day with perfect enjoyment until mid-afternoon when we purposed to return homewards. Accordingly, the boys collected their belongings and laded them upon an ass and we walked about half-way when behold, the whole party, big and little, stood still and said to me, “O our lord, we are athirst and burning with drowthiness, nor can we stir from this spot and if we leave it without drinking we shall all die.” Now there was in that place a draw-well, but it was deep and we had nor pitcher nor bucket nor aught wherein to draw water and the scholars still suffered from exceeding thirst. We had with us, however, cooking-gear such as chauldrons and platters; so I said to them, “O boys, whoso carrieth a cord or hath bound his belongings with one let him bring it hither!” They did my bidding and I tied these articles together and spliced them as strongly as I could: then said I to the lads, “Bind me under the arm-pits.” Accordingly they made me fast by passing the rope around me and I took with me a chauldron, whereupon they let me down bucket-wise into the well till I reached the water. Then I loosed the bandage from under my armpits and tied it to the chauldron which I filled brim-full and shook the rope for a signal to the boys above. They haled at the vessel till they pulled it up and began drinking and giving drink; and on this wise they drew a first chauldron and a second and a third and a fourth till they were satisfied and could no more and cried out to me, “We have had enough, quite enough.” Hereupon I bound the bandage under my armpits, as it was when I went down, and I shook it as a signal and they haled me up till I had well-nigh reached the kerbstone of the well when a fit of sneezing seized me and I sneezed violently. At this all let go their hold and carrying their arms over their breasts, cried aloud, “Allah have ruth upon thee, O our lord!” but I, as soon as they loosed hold, fell into the depths of the well and brake my back. I shrieked for excess of agony and all the boys ran on all sides screaming for aid till they were heard by some wayfaring folk; and these haled at me and drew me out. They placed me upon the ass and bore me home: then they brought a leach to medicine me and at last I became even as thou seest me, O Sultan of the Age. Such, then, is my story showing the weakness of my wits; for had I not enjoined and enforced over-respect the boys would not have let go their hold when I happened to sneeze nor would my back have been broken. “Thou speakest sooth, O Shaykh,” said the Sultan, “and indeed thou hast made evident the weakness of thy wit.” Then quoth he to the man who was cloven of mouth. “And thou, the other, what was it split thy gape?” “The weakness of my wit, O my lord the Sultan,” quoth he, and fell to telling the
134 MS. iii. 210-214. Scott’s “Story of the broken-backed Schoolmaster,” vi. pp. 72-75, and Gauttier’s ”Histoire du Maitre d’école éreinté,” vi. 217. The Arabic is “Muaddib al-Atfál”=one who teacheth children. I have before noted that amongst Moslems the Schoolmaster is always a fool. So in Europe of the 16th century probably no less than one-third of the current jests turned upon the Romish clergy and its phenomenal ignorance compared with that of the pagan augur. The Story of the First Schoolmaster is one of the most humorous in this MS.
135 For the usual ceremony when a Moslem sneezes, see vol. ix. 220.
136 The “day in the country,” lately become such a favourite with English schools, is an old Eastern custom.
I also began life, O King of the Age, as a Schoolmaster and had under my charge some eighty boys. Now I was strict with such strictness that from morning to evening I sat amongst them and would never dismiss them to their homes before sundown. But ’tis known to thee, O our lord the King, that boys’ wits be short after the measure of their age, and that they love naught save play and forgathering in the streets and quarter. Withal, I took no heed of this and ever grew harder upon them till one day all met and with the intervention of the eldest Monitor they agreed and combined to play me a trick. He arranged with them that next morning none should enter the school until he had taught them, each and every, to say as they went in, “Thy safety, O our lord, how yellow is thy face!” Now the first who showed himself was the Monitor and he spoke as had been agreed; but I was rough with him and sent him away; then a second came in and repeated what the first had said; then a third and then a fourth, until ten boys had used the same words. So quoth I to myself, “Ho, Such-an-one! thou must be unwell without weeting it:” then I arose and went into the Harem and lay down therein when the Monitor, having collected from his school-fellows some hundred-and-eighty Nusfs,138 came in to me and cried, “Take this, O our lord, and expend the money upon thy health.” Thereupon I said to myself, “Ho, Such-an-one! every Thursday139 thou dost not collect sixty Faddahs from the boys,” and I cried to him, “Go, let them forth for a holiday.” So he went and dismissed them from school to the playground. On the next day he collected as much as on the first and came in to me and said, “Expend these moneys, O our lord, upon thy health.” He did the same on the third day and the fourth, making the boys contribute much coin and presenting it to me; and on such wise he continued till the tenth day, when he brought the money as was his wont. At that time I happened to hold in my hand a boiled egg which I purposed eating, but on sighting him I said in myself, “An he see thee feeding he will cut off the supplies.” So I crammed the egg into my chops — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah, upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Schoolmaster said to himself, “If the Monitor see thee eating the egg now in thy hand he will cut off the supplies and assert thee to be sound.” So (continued he) I crammed the egg into my chops and clapped my jaws together. Hereupon the lad turned to me and cried, “O my lord, thy cheek is much swollen;” and I, “’Tis only an imposthume.” But he drew a whittle140 forth his sleeve and coming up to me seized my cheek and slit it, when the egg fell out and he said, “O my lord, this it was did the harm and now ’tis passed away from thee.” Such was the cause of the splitting of my mouth, O our lord the Sultan. Now had I cast away greed of gain and eaten the egg in the Monitor’s presence, what could have been the ill result? But all this was of the weakness of my wit; for also had I dismissed the boys every day about mid-afternoon, I should have gained naught nor lost aught thereby. However the Dealer of Destiny is self-existent, and this is my case. Then the Sultan turned to the Wazir and laughed and said, “The fact is that whoso schooleth boys is weak of wit;” and said the other, “O King of the Age, all pedagogues lack perceptives and reflectives; nor can they become legal witnesses before the Kazi because verily they credit the words of little children without evidence of the speech being or factual or false. So their reward in the world to come must be abounding!”141 Then the Sultan asked the limping man, saying, “And thou, the other, what lamed thee?” So he began to tell
137 MS. iii. 214-219. Scott’s “Story of the wry-mouthed Schoolmaster,” vi. pp. 74-75: Gauttier’s Histoire du Second Estropié, vi. p. 220.
138 In these days the whole would be about 10d.
139 Pay-day for the boys in Egypt. The Moslem school has often been described but it always attracts the curiosity of strangers. The Moorish or Maroccan variety is a simple affair; “no forms, no desks, few books. A number of boards about the size of foolscap, whitewashed on either side, whereon the lessons — from the alphabet to sentences of the Koran — are plainly written in large black letters; a pen and ink, a book and a switch or two, complete the paraphernalia. The dominie, squatting on the ground, tailor-fashion, like his pupils, who may number from ten to thirty, repeats the lesson in a sonorous singsong voice, and is imitated by the urchins, who accompany their voices by a rocking to and fro which sometimes enables them to keep time. A sharp application of the cane is wonderfully effectual in recalling wandering attention; and lazy boys are speedily expelled. On the admission of a pupil, the parents pay some small sum, varying according to their means, and every Wednesday, which is a half-holiday, a payment is made from 1/4d. to 2d. New moons and feasts are made occasions for larger payments, and are also holidays, which last ten days during the two greater festivals. Thursdays are whole holidays, and no work is done on Friday mornings, that day being the Mohammedan ‘Sabbath,’ or at least ‘meeting day,’ as it is called. When the pupils have mastered the first short chapter of the Koran, it is customary for them to be paraded round the town on horseback, with ear-splitting music, and sometimes charitably disposed persons make small presents to the youngster by way of encouragement. After the first, the last is learned, then the last but one, and so on, backwards, as, with the exception of the first, the longest chapters are at the beginning. Though reading and a little writing are taught, at the same time, all the scholars do not arrive at the pitch of perfection necessary to indite a polite letter, so that consequently there is plenty of employment for the numerous scribes or Tálibs who make a profession of writing. These may frequently be seen in small rooms opening on to the street, usually very respectably dressed in a white flowing haik and large turban, and in most cases of venerable appearance, their noses being adorned with huge goggles. Before them are their appliances — pens made of reeds, ink, paper, and sand in lieu of blotting paper. They usually possess also a knife and scissors, with a case to hold them all. In writing, they place the paper on the knee, or upon a pad of paper in the left hand.” The main merit of the village school in Eastern lands is its noises which teach the boy to concentrate his attention. As Dr. Wilson of Bombay said, the young idea is taught to shout as well as to shoot, and this vivâ voce process is a far better mnemonic than silent reading. Moreover it is fine practice in the art of concentrating attention.
140 Arab. “Mikshat,” whose root would be “Kasht”=skinning (a camel).
141 Evidently said ironicè as of innocents. In “The Forty Vezirs” we read, “At length they perceived that all this tumult arose from their trusting on this wise the words of children.” (Lady’s XXth Tale.)
My tale, O my lord the Sultan, is marvellous and ’twas as follows. My father was by profession a schoolmaster and, when he fared to the ruth of Almighty Allah, I took his place in the school and taught the boys to read after the fashion of my sire. Now over the schoolroom was an upper lattice whereto planks had been nailed and I was ever casting looks at it till one chance day I said to myself, “By Allah, this lattice thus boarded up needs must contain hoards or moneys or manuscripts which my father stored there before his decease; and on such wise I am deprived of them.” So I arose and brought a ladder and lashed it to another till the two together reached the lattice and I clomb them holding a carpenter’s adze143 wherewith I prized up the planks until all were removed. And behold, I then saw a large fowl, to wit, a kite,144 setting upon her nestlings. But when she saw me she flew sharply in my face and I was frightened by her and thrown back; so I tumbled from the ladder-top to the ground and brake both knee-caps. Then they bore me home and brought a leach to heal me; but he did me no good and I fell into my present state. Now this, O our lord the Sultan, proveth the weakness of my wit and the greatness of my greed; for there is a saw amongst men that saith “Covetise aye wasteth and never gathereth: so ‘ware thee of covetise.” Such, O lord of the Age and the Time, is my tale. Hereupon the King bade gifts and largesse be distributed to the three old schoolmasters, and when his bidding was obeyed they went their ways. Then the Sultan turned to the Minister and said, “O Wazir, now respecting the matter of the three maidens and their mother, I would have thee make enquiry and find out their home and bring them hither; or let us go to them in disguise and hear their history, for indeed it must he wonderful. Otherwise how could they have understood that we served them that sleight by marking their door and they on their part set marks of like kind upon all the doors of the quarter that we might lose the track and touch of them. By Allah, this be rare intelligence on the part of these damsels; but we, O Wazir, will strive to come upon their traces.” Then the Minister fared forth, after changing his dress and demeanour, and walked to the quarter in question, but found all the doors similarly marked. So he was sore perplext concerning his case and fell to questioning all the folk wont to pass by these doors but none could give him any information; and he walked about sore distraught until even-tide, when he returned to the Sultan without aught of profit. As he went in to the presence, his liege lord asked him saying, “What bringest thou of tidings?” and he answered, “O King, I have not found the property,145 but there passed through my mind a stratagem which, an we carry it out, peradventure shall cause us to happen upon the maidens.” Quoth the Sultan, “What be that?” and quoth he, “Do thou write me an autograph-writ and give it to the Crier that he may cry about the city, ‘Whoso lighteth wick after supper-tide shall have his head set under his heels.’” The Sultan rejoined, “This thy rede is right.” Accordingly, on the next day the King wrote his letter and gave it to the Crier bidding him fare through the city and forbid the lighting of lamps after night-prayers; and the man took the royal rescript and set it in a green bag. Then he went forth and cried about the street saying, “According to the commandment of our King, the Lord of prosperity and Master of the necks of God’s servants, if any light wick after night-prayers his head shall be set under his heels, his good shall be spoiled and his women shall be cast into jail.” And the Crier stinted not crying through the town during the first day and the second and the third, until he had gone round the whole place; nor was there a citizen but who knew the ordinance. Now the King waited patiently till after the proclamation of the third day; but on the fourth night he and his Minister went down from the palace in disguise after supper-tide to pry about the wards and espy into the lattices of the several quarters. They found no light till they came to the ward where the three damsels lived, and the Sultan, happening to glance in such a direction, saw the gleam of a lamp in one of the tenements. So he said to the Wazir, “Ho! there is a wick alight.” Presently they drew near it and found that it was within one of the marked houses; wherefore they came to a stand and knocked at the door — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Sultan and the Wazir stood over against the door behind which was the light and knocked at it, the youngest of the sisters cried out, “Who is at the door?” and they replied, “Guests and Darwayshes.” She rejoined, “What can you want at this hour and what can have belated you?” And they, “We be men living in a Khan; but we have lost our way thither and we fear to happen upon the Chief of Police. So of your bountiful kindness open ye to us and house us for the remnant of the night; and such charity shall gain you reward in Heaven.” Hereto the mother added, “Go open to them the door!” and the youngest of the maidens came forward and opened to them and admitted them. Then the parent and her children rose up and welcomed them respectfully and seated them and did them honour and set before them somewhat of food which they ate and were gladdened. Presently the King said, “O damsels, ye cannot but know that the Sultan proclaimed forbiddal of wick-burning; but ye have lighted your lamps and have not obeyed him when all the citizens have accepted his commandment.” Upon this the youngest sister accosted him saying, “O Darwaysh, verily the Sultan’s order should not be obeyed save in commandments which be reasonable; but this his proclamation forbidding lights is sinful to accept; and indeed the right direction146 wherein man should walk is according to Holy Law which saith, ‘No obedience to the creature in a matter of sin against the Creator.’ The Sultan (Allah make him prevail!) herein acteth against the Law and imitateth the doings of Satan. For we be three sisters with our mother, making four in the household, and every night we sit together by lamp-light and weave a half-pound weight of linen web147 which our mother taketh in the morning for sale to the Bazar and buyeth us therewith half a pound of raw flax and with the remainder what sufficeth us of victual.” The Sultan now turned to his Minister and said, “O Wazir, this damsel astonisheth me by her questions and answers. What case of casuistry can we propose to her and what disputation can we set up? Do thou contrive us somewhat shall pose and perplex her.” “O my lord,” replied the Wazir, “we are here in the guise of Darwayshes and are become to these folk as guests: how then can we disturb them with troublesome queries in their own home?” Quoth the Sultan, “Needs must thou address them;” so the Wazir said to the girl, “O noble one, obedience to the royal orders is incumbent upon you as upon all lieges.” Said she, “True, he is our Sovran; but how can he know whether we be starving or full-fed?” “Let us see,” rejoined the Wazir, “when he shall send for you and set you before the presence and question you concerning your disobeying his orders, what thou wilt say?” She retorted, “I would say to the Sultan, ‘Thou hast contraried Holy Law.’” At this the Minister resumed, “An he ask thee sundry questions wilt thou answer them?” and she replied “Indeed I will.” Hereat the Minister turned to the King and said, “Let us leave off question and answer with this maiden on points of conscience and Holy Law and ask if she understand the fine arts.” Presently the Sultan put the question when she replied, “How should I not understand them when I am their father and their mother?” Quoth he, “Allah upon thee, O my lady, an thou wouldst favour us, let us hear one of thine airs and its words.” So she rose and retired but presently returning with a lute sat down and set it upon her lap and ordered the strings and smote it with a masterly touch: then she fell to singing amongst other verses these ordered couplets:—
“Do thou good to men and so rule their necks:
Long reigns who by benefit rules mankind:
And lend aid to him who for aidance hopes:
For aye grateful is man with a noble mind:
Who brings money the many to him will incline
And money for tempting of man was designed:
Who hindereth favour and bounties, ne’er
Or brother or friend in creation shall find:
With harsh looks frown not in the Sage’s face;
Disgusteth the freeman denial unkind:
Who frequenteth mankind all of good unknow’th:
Man is lief of rebellion, of largesse loath.”
When the Sultan heard these couplets, his mind was distraught and he was perplext in thought; then turning to his Wazir, he said, “By Allah, these lines were surely an examination of and an allusion to our two selves; and doubtless she weeteth of us that I am the Sultan and thou art the Wazir, for the whole tenor of her talk proveth her knowledge of us.” Then he turned to the maiden and said, “Right good are thy verse and thy voice, and thy words have delighted us with exceeding delight.” Upon this she sang the following two couplets:—
“Men seek for them sorrow, and toil
Thro’ long years as they brightly flow;
But Fate, in the well like the tank148
Firm-fixt, ruleth all below.”
Now as soon as the Sultan heard these last two couplets he made certain that the damsel was aware of his quality. She did not leave off her lute-playing till near daylight, when she rose and retired and presently brought in a breakfast befitting her degree (for indeed she was pleased with them); and when she had served it up they ate a small matter which sufficed them. After this she said, “Inshallah, you will return to us this night before supper-tide and become our guests;” and the twain went their ways marvelling at the beauty of the sisters and their loveliness and their fearlessness in the matter of the proclamation; and the Sultan said to the Wazir, “By Allah, my soul inclineth unto that maiden.” And they stinted not walking until they had entered the palace. But when that day had gone by and evening drew nigh, the Monarch made ready to go, he and the Minister, to the dwelling of the damsels — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive.” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King and the Councillor made ready to go to the dwelling of the damsels taking with them somewhat of gold pieces, the time being half an hour after set of sun; and presently they repaired to the house of the sisters whither they had been invited on the past night. So they rapped at the door when the youngest maiden came to it and opened and let them in: then she salam’d to them and greeted them and entreated them with increased respect saying, “Welcome to our lords the Darwayshes.” But she eyed them with the eye of the physiognomist149 and said in herself, “Verily these two men are on no wise what they seem and, unless my caution and intelligence and power of knowledge have passed away from me, this must be the Sultan and that his Wazir, for grandeur and majesty are evident on them.” Then she seated them and accosted them even more pleasantly and set before them supper, and when they had eaten enough, she brought basins and ewers for handwashing and served up coffee causing them to enjoy themselves and to give and take in talk till their pleasure was perfect. At the time of night-orisons they arose and, after performing the Wuzú-ablution, prayed, and when their devotions were ended the Sultan hent in hand his purse and gave it to the youngest sister saying, “Expend ye this upon your livelihood.” She took the bag which held two thousand dinars and kissed his right hand, feeling yet the more convinced that he must be the Sultan: so she proved her respect by the fewness of her words as she stood between his hands to do him service. Also she privily winked at her sisters and mother and said to them by signs, “Verily this be the Monarch and that his Minister.” The others then arose and followed suit as the sister had done, when the Sultan turned to the Wazir and said, “The case is changed: assuredly they have comprehended it and ascertained it;” presently adding to the girl, “O damsel, we be only Darwaysh folk and yet you all stand up in our service as if we were sovrans. I beseech you do not on this wise.” But the youngest sister again came forwards and kissed the ground before him and blessed him and recited this couplet:
“Fair fate befal thee to thy foe’s despite:
White be thy days and his be black as night.150
By Allah, O King of the Age, thou art the Sultan and that is the Minister.” The Sovran asked, “What cause hast thou for supposing this?” and she answered, “From your grand demeanour and your majestic mien; for such be the qualities of Kings which cannot be concealed.” Quoth the Monarch, “Thou hast spoken sooth; but, tell me, how happeneth it that you wone here without men protectors?” and quoth she, “O my lord the King, our history is wondrous and were it graven with graver-needles upon the eye-corners it were a warning to whoso would be warned.” He rejoined, “What is it?” and she began the
142 MS. iii. 219-220. For some unaccountable reason it is omitted by Scott (vi. 76), who has written English words in the margin of the W. M. Codex.
143 In text “Kádúm,” for “Kudúm,” a Syrian form.
144 Arab. “Hidyah,” which in Egypt means a falcon; see vol. iii. 138.
145 Arab. “Sifah,"=lit. a quality.
146 Arab. “Istiláh”=specific dialect, idiom. See De Sacy, Chrestomathie, i. 443, where the learned Frenchman shows abundant learning, but does very little for the learner.
147 In the text “Kattán”=linen, flax.
148 Arab. “Fí Jífán ka’l-Jawábí!” which, I suppose, means small things (or men) and great.
149 This form of cleverness is a favourite topic in Arabian folk-lore. The model man was Iyás al-Muzani, al-Kazi (of Bassorah), in the 2nd century A.H., mentioned by Al-Harírí in his 7th Ass. and noted in Arab. Prov. (i. 593) as “more intelligent than Iyás.” Ibn Khallikan (i. 233) tells sundry curious tales of him. Hearing a Jew ridicule the Moslem Paradise where the blessed ate and drank ad libitum but passed nothing away, he asked if all his food were voided: the Jew replied that God converted a part of it into nourishment and he rejoined, “Then why not the whole?” Being once in a courtyard he said that there was an animal under the bricks and a serpent was found: he had noted that only two of the tiles showed signs of dampness and this proved that there was something underneath that breathed. Al-Maydáni relates of him that hearing a dog bark, he declared that the beast was tied to the brink of a well; and he judged so because the bark was followed by an echo. Two men came before him, the complainant claimed money received by the defendant who denied the debt. Iyás asked the plaintiff where he had given it, and was answered, “Under a certain tree.” The judge told him to go there by way of refreshing his memory and in his absence asked the defendant if his adversary could have reached it. “Not yet,” said the rogue, forgetting himself; “’tis a long way off”— which answer convicted him. Seeing three women act upon a sudden alarm, he said, “One of them is pregnant, another is nursing, and the third is a virgin.” He explained his diagnosis as follows: “In time of danger persons lay their hands on what they most prize. Now I saw the pregnant woman in her flight place her hand on her belly, which showed me she was with child; the nurse placed her hand on her bosom, whereby I knew that she was suckling, and the third covered her parts with her hand proving to me that she was a maid.” (Chenery’s Al Hariri, p. 334.)
150 Such an address would be suited only to a King or a ruler.
I and my sisters and my mother are not natives of this city but of a capital in the land Al-Irák where my father was Sovran having troops and guards, Wazirs and Eunuch-chamberlains; and my mother was the fairest woman of her time insomuch that her beauty was a proverb throughout each and every region. Now it chanced that when I and my sisters were but infants, our father would set out to hunt and course and slay beasts of raven and take his pleasure in the gardens without the city. So he sent for his Wazir and appointed and constituted him Viceregent in his stead with full authority to command and be gracious to his lieges: then he got him ready and marched forth and the Viceroy entered upon his office. But it happened that it was the hot season and my mother betook herself to the terrace-roof of the palace in order to smell the air and sniff up the breeze. At that very hour, by the decree of the Decreer, the Wazir was sitting in the Kiosk or roofed balcony hanging to his upper mansion and holding in hand a mirror; and, as he looked therein, he saw the reflection of my mother, a glance of eyes which bequeathed him a thousand sighs. He was forthright distracted by her beauty and loveliness and fell sick and took to his pillow. Presently a confidential nurse came in and feeling his pulse, which showed no malady, said to him, “No harm for thee! thou shalt soon be well nor ever suffer from aught of sorrow.” Quoth he, “O my nurse, canst thou keep a secret?” and quoth she, “I can.” Then he told her all the love he had conceived for my mother and she replied, “This be a light affair nor hath it aught of hindrance: I will manage for thee such matter and I will soon unite thee with her.” Thereupon he packed up for her some of the most sumptuous dresses in his treasury and said, “Hie thee to her and say, ‘The Wazir hath sent these to thee by way of love-token and his desire is either that thou come to him and converse, he and thou, for a couple of hours,152 or that he be allowed to visit thee.’” The nurse replied with “Hearkening and obedience,” and fared forth and found my mother (and we little ones were before her) all unknowing aught of that business. So the old woman saluted her and brought forwards the dresses, and my mother arose and opening the bundle beheld sumptuous raiment and, amongst other valuables, a necklace of precious stones. So she said to the nurse, “This is indeed ornamental gear, especially the collar;” and said the nurse, “O my lady, these are from thy slave the Wazir by way of love-token, for he doteth on thee with extreme desire and his only wish is to forgather with thee and converse, he and thou, for a couple of hours, either in his own place or in thine whither he will come.” Now when my mother heard these words from the nurse she arose and drew a scymitar which lay hard by and of her angry hastiness made the old woman’s head fall from her body and bade her slave-girls pick up the pieces and cast them into the common privy of the palace. So they did her bidding and wiped away the blood. Now the Wazir abode expecting his nurse to return to him but she returned not; so next day he despatched another handmaid who went to my mother and said to her, “O my lady, our lord the Wazir sent thee a present of dress by his nurse; but she hath not come back to him.” Hereupon my mother bade her Eunuchs take the slave and strangle her, then cast the corpse into the same house of easement where they had thrown the nurse. They did her bidding; but she said in her mind, “Haply the Wazir will return from the road of unright:” and she kept his conduct a secret. He however fell every day to sending slave-girls with the same message and my mother to slaying each and every, nor deigned show him any signs of yielding. But she, O our lord the Sultan, still kept her secret and did not acquaint our father therewith, always saying to herself, “Haply the Wazir will return to the road of right.” And behold my father presently came back from hunting and sporting and pleasuring, when the Lords of the land met him and salam’d to him, and amongst them appeared the Minister whose case was changed. Now some years after this, O King of the Age, our sire resolved upon a Pilgrimage to the Holy House of Meccah — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable.” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youngest sister continued to the Sultan:— So our sire, O King of the Age, resolved upon a Pilgrimage to the Holy House of Meccah and stablished the same Wazir Viceregent in his stead to deal commandment and break off and carry out. So he said in his heart, “Now have I won my will of the Sultan’s Harem.” So the King gat him ready and fared forth to Allah’s Holy House after committing us to the charge of his Minister. But when he had been gone ten days, and the Wazir knew that he must be far from the city where he had left behind him me and my sisters and my mother, behold, an Eunuch of the Minister’s came in to us and kissed ground before the Queen and said to her “Allah upon thee, O my lady, pity my lord the Wazir, for his heart is melted by thy love and his wits wander and his right mind; and he is now become as one annihilated. So do thou have ruth upon him and revive his heart and restore his health.” Now when my mother heard these words, she bade her Eunuchs seize that Castrato and carry him from the room to the middle of the Divan-court and there slay him; but she did so without divulging her reasons. They obeyed her bidding; and when the Lords of the land and others saw the body of a man slain by the eunuchry of the palace, they informed the Wazir, saying, “What hateful business is this which hath befallen after the Sultan’s departure?” He asked, “What is to do?” and they told him that his Castrato had been slain by a party of the palace eunuchry. Thereupon he said to them, “In your hand abideth testimony of this whenas the Sultan shall return and ye shall bear witness to it.” But, O King, the Wazir’s passion for our mother waxed cool after the deaths of the nurse and the slave-girls and the eunuch; and she also held her peace and spake not a word there anent. On this wise time passed and he sat in the stead of my sire till the Sultan’s return drew near when the Minister dreaded lest our father, learning his ill deeds, should do him die. So he devised a device and wrote a letter to the King saying, “After salutation be it known to thee that thy Harem hath sent to me, not only once but five several times during thine absence, soliciting of me a foul action, to which I refused consent and replied, By Allah, however much she may wish to betray my Sovran, I by the Almighty will not turn traitor; for that I was left by thee guardian of the realm after thy departure.” He added words upon words; then he sealed the scroll and gave it to a running courier with orders to hurry along the road. The messenger took it and fared with it to the Sultan’s camp when distant eight days’ journey from the capital; and, finding him seated in his pavilion,153 delivered the writ. He took it and opened it and read it and when he understood its secret significance, his face changed, his eyes turned backwards and he bade his tents be struck for departure. So they fared by forced marches till between him and his capital remained only two stations. He then summoned two Chamberlains with orders to forego him to the city and take my mother and us three girls a day’s distance from it and there put us to death. Accordingly, they led us four to the open country purposing to kill us, and my mother knew not what intent was in their minds until they reached the appointed spot. Now the Queen had in times past heaped alms-deeds and largesse upon the two Chamberlains, so they held the case to be a grievous and said each to other, “By Allah we cannot slaughter them; no, never!” Then they told my mother of the letter which the Wazir had written to our father saying such-and-such, upon which she exclaimed, “He hath lied, by Allah, the arch-traitor; and naught happened save so-and-so.” Then she related to them all she had done with the exactest truth. The men said, “Sooth thou hast spoken;” then arising without stay or delay they snared a gazelle and slaughtered it and filled with its blood four flasks; after which they broiled some of the flesh over the embers and gave it to my mother that we might satisfy our hunger. Presently they farewelled us saying, “We give you in charge of Him who never disappointed those committed to His care;” and, lastly, they went their ways leaving us alone in the wild and the word. So we fell to eating the desertgrasses and drinking of the remnants of the rain, and we walked awhile and rested awhile without finding any city or inhabited region; and we waxed tired, O King of the Age, when suddenly we came upon a spot on a hill-flank abounding in vari-coloured herbs and fair fountains. Here we abode ten days and behold, a caravan drew near us and encamped hard by us, but they did not sight us for that we hid ourselves from their view until night fell. Then I went to them and asked of sundry eunuchs and ascertained that there was a city at the distance of two days’ march from us; so I returned and informed my mother who rejoiced at the good tidings. As soon as it was morn the caravan marched off, so we four arose and walked all that day through at a leisurely pace, and a second day and so forth; until, on the afternoon of the fifth, a city rose before our sight fulfilling all our desires154 and we exclaimed, “Alhamdolillah, laud be to the Lord who hath empowered us to reach it.” We ceased not faring till sunset when we entered it and we found it a potent capital. Such was our case and that of our mother;155 but as regards our sire the Sultan, as he drew near his home after the return-journey from the Hajj, the Lords of the land and the Chiefs of the city flocked out to meet him, and the town-folk followed one another like men riding on pillions156 to salute him, and the poor and the mesquin congratulated him on his safety and at last the Wazir made his appearance. The Sultan desired to be private with the Minister — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King desired to be private with the Minister and when they were left alone he said, “O Wazir, how was it between thee and that Harim of mine?” Said the other, “O King of the Age, she sent to me not only once but five several times and I refrained from her and whatsoever eunuch she despatched I slew, saying, Haply she may cease so doing and abandon her evil intent. But she did not repent, so I feared for thine honour and sent to acquaint thee with the matter.” The Sultan bowed his head groundwards for a while, then raising it he bade summon the two Chamberlains whom he had sent to slay his wife and three children. On their appearing he asked them, “What have you done in fulfilling my commandment?” They answered, “We did that which thou badest be done,” and showed him the four flasks they had filled with the blood and said, “This be their blood, a flask-full from each.” The Sultan hent them in hand and mused over what had taken place between him and his wife of love and affection and union; so he wept with bitter weeping and fell down in a fainting fit. After an hour or so he recovered and turning to the Wazir said, “Tell me, hast thou spoken sooth?” and the other replied, “Yes, I have.” Then the Sultan addressed the two Chamberlains and asked them, “Have ye put to death my daughters with their mother?” But they remained silent nor made aught of answer or address. So he exclaimed, “What is on your minds that ye speak not?” They rejoined, “By Allah, O King of the Age, the honest man cannot tell an untruth for that lying and leasing are the characteristics of hypocrites and traitors.” When the Wazir heard the Chamberlains’ speech his colour yellowed, his frame was disordered and a trembling seized his limbs, and the King turned to him and noted that these symptoms had been caused by the words of the two officials. So he continued to them, “What mean ye, O Chamberlains, by your saying that lies and leasing are the characteristics of hypocrites and traitors? Can it be that ye have not put them to death? And as ye claim to be true men either ye have killed them and ye speak thus or you are liars. Now by Him who hath set me upon the necks of His lieges, if ye declare not to me the truth I will do you both die by the foulest of deaths.” They rejoined, “By Allah, O King of the Age, whenas thou badest us take them and slay them, we obeyed thy bidding and they knew not nor could they divine what was to be until we arrived with them at the middlemost and broadest of the desert; and when we informed them of what had been done by the Wazir, thy Harem exclaimed, ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great. Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him are we returning. But an ye kill us you will kill us wrongfully and ye wot not wherefor. By the Lord, this Wazir hath foully lied and hath accused us falsely before the Almighty.’ So we said to her, O King of the Age, ‘Inform us of what really took place,’ and said the mother of the Princesses, ‘Thus and thus it happened.’ Then she fell to telling us the whole tale from first to last of the nurse who was sent to her and the handmaids and the Eunuch.”157 Hereupon the Sultan cried, “And ye, have ye slain them or not?” and the Chamberlains replied, “By Allah, O King of the Age, whenas the loyalty of thy Harem was made manifest to us we snared a gazelle and cut its throat and filled these four flasks with its blood; after which we broiled some of the flesh upon the embers and offered it to thy Harem and her children saying to them, ‘We give thee in charge to Him who never disappointeth those committed to His care,’ and we added, ‘Your truth shall save you.’ Lastly we left them in the midmost of the waste and we returned hither.” When the Sultan heard these words he turned to the Wazir and exclaimed, “Thou hast estranged from me my wife and my children;” but the Minister uttered not a word nor made any address and trembled in every limb like one afflicted with an ague. And when the King saw the truth of the Chamberlains and the treachery of the Minister he bade fuel be collected and set on fire and they did his bidding. Then he commanded them to truss up the Wazir, hand tied to foot, and bind him perforce upon a catapult158 and cast him into the middle of the fiery pyre which made his bones melt before his flesh. Lastly he ordered his palace to be pillaged, his good to be spoiled and the women of his Harem to be sold for slaves. After this he said to the Chamberlains, “You must know the spot wherein you left the Queen and Princesses;” and said they, “O King of the Age, we know it well; but when we abandoned them and returned home they were in the midst of the wolds and the wilds nor can we say what befel them or whether they be now alive or dead.” On this wise fared it with them; but as regards us three maidens and our mother, when we entered the city — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable?” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youngest sister continued her tale:— So when we three maidens and our mother entered the city about sunset I the youngest said to them, “We be three Princesses and a Queen-mother: so we cannot show ourselves in this our condition and needs must we lodge us in a Khan: also ’tis my rede that we should do best by donning boys’ dress.” All agreeing hereto we did accordingly and, entering a Caravanserai, hired us a retired chamber in one of the wings. Now every day we three fared forth to service and at eventide we forgathered and took what sufficed us of sustenance; but our semblance had changed with the travails of travel and all who looked at us would say, These be lads. In this plight we passed the space of a year full-told till, one day of the days, we three fared forth to our chares, as was our wont, and behold, a young man met us upon the way and turning to me asked, “O lad, wilt thou serve in my house?” Quoth I, “O my uncle,159 I must ask advice,” and quoth he, “O my lad, crave counsel of thy mother and come and serve in our home.” He then looked at my sisters and enquired, “Be these thy comrades, O lad?” and I replied “No, they are my brothers.” So we three went to our mother in the Khan and said to her, “This young man wisheth to hire the youngest of us for service,” and said she, “No harm in that.” Thereupon the youth arose and taking me by the hand guided me to his home and led me in to his mother and his wife, and when the ancient dame saw me, her heart was opened to me. Presently quoth the young man to his parent, “I have brought the lad to serve in our house and he hath two brothers and his mother dwelling with them.” Quoth she, “May it be fortunate to thee, O my son.”160 So I tarried there serving them till sunset and when the evening-meal was eaten, they gave me a dish of meat and three large bannocks of clean bread. These I took and carried to my mother whom I found sitting with my sisters and I set before them the meat and bread; but when my parent saw this she wept with sore weeping and cried, “Time hath overlooked us; erst we gave food to the folk and now the folk send us food.” And cried I, “Marvel not at the works of the Creator; for verily Allah hath ordered for us this and for others that and the world endureth not for any one;” and I ceased not soothing my mother’s heart till it waxed clear of trouble and we ate and praised Almighty Allah. Now every day I went forth to serve at the young man’s house and at eventide bore to my mother and sisters their sufficiency of food for supper,161 breakfast and dinner; and when the youth brought eatables of any kind for me I would distribute it to the family. And he looked well after our wants and at times he would supply clothing for me and for the youths, my sisters, and for my parent; so that all hearts in our lodgings were full of affection for him. At last his mother said, “What need is there for the lad to go forth from us every eventide and pass the night with his people? Let him lie in our home and every day about afternoon-time carry the evening meal to his mother and brothers and then return to us and keep me company.” I replied, “O my lady, let me consult my mother, to whom I will fare forthright and acquaint her herewith.” But my parent objected saying, “O my daughter, we fear lest thou be discovered, and they find thee out to be a girl.” I replied, “Our Lord will veil our secret;” and she rejoined, “Then do thou obey them.” So I lay with the young man’s mother nor did any divine that I was a maid, albeit from the time when I entered into that youth’s service my strength and comeliness had increased. At last, one night of the nights, I went after supper to sleep at my employer’s and the young man’s mother chanced to glance in my direction when she saw my loosed hair which gleamed and glistened many-coloured as a peacock’s robe. Next morning I arose and gathering up my locks donned the Tákiyah162 and proceeded, as usual, to do service about the house never suspecting that the mother had taken notice of my hair. Presently she said to her son, “’Tis my wish that thou buy me a few rose-blossoms which be fresh.” He asked, “To make conserve?” and she answered, “No.” Then he enquired; “Wherefore wantest thou roses?” and she replied, “By Allah, O my son, I wish therewith to try this our servant whom I suspect to be a girl and no boy; and under him in bed I would strew rose-leaves, for an they be found wilted in the morning he is a lad, and if they remain as they were he is a lass.”163 So he fared forth and presently returned to his mother with the rose-blossoms; and, when the sleeping-hour came, she went and placed them in my bed. I slept well and in the morning when I arose she came to me and found that the petals had not changed for the worse; nay, they had gained lustre. So she made sure that I was a girl. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the damsel continued:— So the young man’s mother made certain that her servant lad was a virgin lass. But she concealed her secret from her son and was kind to me and showed me respect and, of the goodness of her heart, sent me back early to my mother and sisters. Now one day of the days the youth came home about noon as was his wont; and he found me with sleeves tucked up to the elbows engaged in washing a bundle of shirts and turbands; and I was careless of myself so he drew near me and noted my cheeks that flushed rosy red and eyes which were as those of the thirsty gazelle and my scorpion locks hanging adown my side face. This took place in summertide; and when he saw me thus his wits were distraught and his sound senses were as naught and his judgment was in default: so he went in to his parent and said to her, “O my mother, indeed this servant is no boy, but a maiden girl and my wish is that thou discover for me her case and make manifest to me her condition and marry me to her, for that my heart is fulfilled of her love.” Now by the decree of the Decreer I was privily listening to all they said of me; so presently I arose, after washing the clothes and what else they had given me; but my state was changed by their talk and I knew and felt certified that the youth and his mother had recognised me for a girl. I continued on this wise till eventide when I took the food and returned to my family and they all ate till they had eaten enough, when I told them my adventure and my conviction. So my mother said to me, “What remaineth for us now to do?” and said I, “O my mother, let us arise, we three, before night shall set in and go forth ere they lock the Khan upon us;164 and if the door-keeper ask us aught let us answer, ‘We are faring to spend the night in the house of the youth where our son is serving.’” My mother replied, “Right indeed is thy rede.” Accordingly, all four of us went forth at the same time and when the porter asked, “This is night-tide and whither may ye be wending?” we answered, “We have been invited by the young man whom our son serveth for he maketh a Septena-festival165 and a bridal-feast: so we purpose to night with him and return a-morn.” Quoth he, “There is no harm in that.” So we issued out and turned aside and sought the waste lands, the Veiler veiling us, and we ceased not walking till the day brake and we were sore a-wearied. Then we sat for rest till the rise of sun and when it shone we four sprang up and strave with our wayfare throughout the first day and the second and the third until the seventh. (Now all this was related to Mohammed the Sultan of Cairo and his Wazir by the youngest Princess and they abode wondering at her words.) On the seventh day we reached this city and here we housed ourselves; but to this hour we have no news of our sire after the Minister was burnt nor do we know an he be whole or dead. Yet we yearn for him: so do thou, of thine abundant favour, O King of the Age, and thy perfect beneficence, send a messenger to seek tidings of him and to acquaint him with our case, when he will send to fetch us. Here she ceased speaking and the Monarch and Minister both wondered at her words and exclaimed, “Exalted be He who decreeth to His servants severance and reunion.” Then the Sultan of Cairo arose without stay or delay and wrote letters to the King of Al-Irák, the father of the damsels, telling him that he had taken them under his safeguard, them and their mother, and gave the writ to the Shaykh of the Cossids166 and appointed for it a running courier and sent him forth with it to the desert. After this the King took the three maidens and their mother and carried them to his Palace where he set apart for them an apartment and he appointed for them what sufficed of appointments. Now, as for the Cossid who fared forth with the letter, he stinted not spanning the waste for the space of two months until he made the city of the bereaved King of Al-Irák, and when he asked for the royal whereabouts they pointed out to him a pleasure-garden. So he repaired thither and went in to him, kissed ground before him, offered his services, prayed for him and lastly handed to him the letter. The King took it and brake the seal and opened the scroll; but when he read it and comprehended its contents, he rose up and shrieked a loud shriek and fell to the floor in a fainting fit. So the high officials flocked around him and raised him from the ground, and when he recovered after an hour or so they questioned him concerning the cause of this. He then related to them the adventures of his wife and children; how they were still in the bonds of life whole and hearty; and forthright he ordered a ship to be got ready for them and stored therein gifts and presents for him who had been the guardian of his Queen and her daughters. But he knew not what lurked for them in the future. So the ship sailed away, all on board seeking the desired city, and she reached it without delay, the winds blowing light and fair. Then she fired the cannon of safe arrival167 and the Sultan sent forth to enquire concerning her — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan made enquiries concerning that ship, when behold! the Rais168 came forth from her to the land and accosting the King handed to him the letter and acquainted him with the arrival of the gifts and presents. Whereupon he bade all on board her come ashore and be received in the guest-house for a space of three days until the traces of travel should disappear from them. After that time the Sultan gat ready whatso became his high degree of offerings evening those despatched to him by the father of the damsels and stowed them in the vessel, where he also embarked as much of victual and provaunt as might suffice for all the voyagers. On the fourth day after sunset the damsels and their mother were borne on board and likewise went the master after they had taken leave of the King and had salam’d to him and prayed for his preservation. Now in early morning the breeze blew free and fair so they loosed sail and made for the back169 of the sea and voyaged safely for the first day and the second. But on the third about mid-afternoon a furious gale came out against them; whereby the sails were torn to tatters and the masts fell overboard; so the crew made certain of death, and the ship ceased not to be tossed upwards and to settle down without mast or sail till midnight, all the folk lamenting one to other, as did the maidens and their mother, till the wreck was driven upon an island and there went to pieces. Then he whose life-term was short died forthright and he whose life-term was long survived; and some bestrode planks and others butts and others again bulks of timber whereby all were separated each from other. Now the mother and two of the daughters clomb upon planks they chanced find and sought their safety; but the youngest of the maidens, who had mounted a keg,170 and who knew nothing of her mother and sisters, was carried up and cast down by the waves for the space of five days till she landed upon an extensive sea-board where she found a sufficiency to eat and drink. She sat down upon the shore for an hour of time until she had taken rest and her heart was calmed and her fear had flown and she had recovered her spirits: then she rose and paced the sands, all unknowing whither she should wend, and whenever she came upon aught of herbs she would eat of them. This lasted through the first day and the second till the forenoon of the third, when lo and behold! a Knight advanced towards her, falcon on fist and followed by a greyhound. For three days he had been wandering about the waste questing game either of birds or of beasts, but he happened not upon either when he chanced to meet the maiden, and seeing her said in his mind, “By Allah, yon damsel is my quarry this very day.” So he drew near her and salam’d to her and she returned his salute; whereupon he asked her of her condition and she informed him of what had betided her; and his heart was softened towards her and taking her up on his horse’s crupper he turned him homewards. Now of this youngest sister (quoth Shahrazad) there is much to say, and we will say it when the tale shall require the telling. But as regards the second Princess, she ceased not floating on the plank for the space of eight days, until she was borne by the set of the sea close under the walls of a city; but she was like one drunken with wine when she crawled up the shore and her raiment was in rags and her colour had wanned for excess of affright. However, she walked onwards at a slow pace till she reached the city and came upon a house of low stone walls. So she went in and there finding an ancient dame sitting and spinning yarn, she gave her good evening and the other returned it adding, “Who art thou, O my daughter, and whence comest thou?” She answered, “O my aunt, I’m fallen from the skies and have been met by the earth: thou needest not question me of aught, for my heart is clean molten by the fire of grief. An thou take me in for love and kindness ’tis well and if not I will again fare forth on my wanderings.” When the old woman heard these words she compassioned the maiden and her heart felt tender towards her, and she cried, “Welcome to thee, O my daughter, sit thee down!” Accordingly she sat her down beside her hostess and the two fell to spinning yarn whereby to gain their daily bread: and the old dame rejoiced in her and said, “She shall take the place of my daughter.” Now of this second Princess (quoth Shahrazad) there is much to say and we will say it when the tale shall require the telling. But as regards the eldest sister, she ceased not clinging to the plank and floating over the sea till the sixth day passed, and on the seventh she was cast upon a stead where lay gardens distant from the town six miles. So she walked into them and seeing fruit close-clustering she took of it and ate and donned the cast-off dress of a man she found nearhand. Then she kept on faring till she entered the town and here she fell to wandering about the Bazars till she came to the shop of a Kunáfah171-maker who was cooking his vermicelli; and he, seeing a fair youth in man’s habit, said to her, “O younker, wilt thou be my servant!” “O my uncle,” she said, “I will well;” so he settled her wage each day a quarter farthing,172 not including her diet. Now in that town were some fifteen shops wherein Kunafah was made. She abode with the confectioner the first day and the second and the third to the full number of ten, when the traces of travel left her and fear departed from her heart, and her favour and complexion were changed for the better and she became even as the moon, nor could any guess that the lad was a lass. Now it was the practice of that man to buy every day half a quartern173 of flour and use it for making his vermicelli; but when the so-seeming youth came to him he would lay in each morning three quarterns; and the townsfolk heard of this change and fell to saying, “We will never dine without the Kunafah of the confectioner who hath in his house the youth.” This is what befel the eldest Princess of whom (quoth Shahrazad) there is much to say and we will say it when the tale shall require the telling. But as regards the Queen-mother — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that as regards the mother of the maidens, when the ship broke up under them and she bestrode the bulk of timber, she came upon the Rais in his boat manned by three of the men; so he took her on board and they ceased not paddling for a space of three days when they sighted a lofty island which fulfilled their desire, and its summit towered high in air. So they made for it till they drew near it and landed on a low side-shore where they abandoned their boat; and they ceased not walking through the rest of that day and those that followed till one day of the days behold, a dust-cloud suddenly appeared to them spireing up to the skies. They fared for it and after a while it lifted, showing beneath it a host with swords glancing and lance-heads’ gleams lancing and war steeds dancing and prancing, and these were ridden by men like unto eagles and the host was under the hands of a Sultan around whom ensigns and banners were flying. And when this King saw the Rais and the sailors and the woman following, he wheeled his charger themwards to learn what tidings they brought and rode up to the strangers and questioned them; and the castaways informed them that their ship had broken up under them. Now the cause of this host’s taking the field was that the King of Al-Irak, the father of the three maidens, after he appointed the ship and saw her set out, felt uneasy at heart, presaging evil, and feared with sore fear the shifts of Time. So he went forth, he and his high Officials and his host, and marched adown the longshore till, by decree of the Decreer, he suddenly and all unexpectedly came upon his Queen who was under charge of the ship’s captain. Presently, seeing the cavalcade and its ensigns the Rais went forward and recognising the King hastened up to him and kissed his stirrup and his feet. The Sultan turned towards him and knew him; so he asked him of his state and the Rais answered by relating all that had befallen him. Thereupon the King commanded his power to alight in that place and they did so and set up their tents and pavilions. Then the Sultan took seat in his Shámiyánah174 and bade them bring his Queen and they brought her, and when eye met eye the pair greeted each other fondly and the father asked concerning her three children. She declared that she had no tidings of them after the shipwreck and she knew not whether they were dead or alive. Hereat the King wept with sore weeping and exclaimed, “Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him we are returning!” after which he gave orders to march from that place upon his capital. Accordingly they stinted not faring for a space of four days till they reached the city and he entered his citadel-palace. But every time and every hour he was engrossed in pondering the affair of the three Princesses and kept saying, “Would heaven I wot are they drowned or did they escape the sea; and, if they were saved, Oh, that I knew whether they were scattered or abode in company one with other and whatever else may have betided them!” And he ceased not brooding over the issue of things and kept addressing himself in speech; and neither meat was pleasant to him nor drink. Such were his case and adventure; but as regards the youngest sister whenas she was met by the Knight and seated upon the crupper of his steed, he ceased not riding with her till he reached his city and went into his citadel-palace. Now the Knight was the son of a Sultan who had lately deceased, but a usurper had seized the reins of rule in his stead and Time had proved a tyrant to the youth, who had therefore addicted himself to hunting and sporting. Now by the decree of the Decreer he had ridden forth to the chase where he met the Princess and took her up behind him, and at the end of the ride, when he returned to his mother, he was becharmed by her charms; so he gave her in charge to his parent and honoured her with the highmost possible honour and felt for her a growing fondness even as felt she for him. And when the girl had tarried with them a month full-told she increased in beauty and loveliness and symmetrical stature and perfect grace; then, the heart of the youth was fulfilled with love of her and on like wise was the soul of the damsel who, in her new affection, forgot her mother and her sisters. But from the moment that maiden entered his Palace the fortunes of the young Knight amended and the world waxed propitious to him nor less did the hearts of the lieges incline to him; so they held a meeting and said, “There shall be over us no Sovran and no Sultan save the son of our late King; and he who at this present ruleth us hath neither great wealth nor just claim to the sovereignty.” Now all this benefit which accrued to the young King was by the auspicious coming of the Princess. Presently the case was agreed upon by all the citizens of the capital that on the morning of the next day they would make him ruler and depose the usurper. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the citizens in early morning held a meeting whereat were present the Lords of the land and the high Officials, and they went in to the usurping Sultan determined to remove and depose him. But he refused and forswore consent, saying, “By Allah, such thing may not be except after battle and slaughter.” Accordingly they fared forth and acquainted the young King who held the matter grievous and was overridden by cark and care: however he said to them, “If there must perforce be fighting and killing, I have treasures sufficient to levy a host.” So saying he went away and disappeared; but presently he brought them the moneys which they distributed to the troops. Then they repaired to the Maydan, the field of fight outside the city, and on like guise the usurping Sultan rode out with all his power. And when the two opposing hosts were ranged in their forces, each right ready for the fray, the usurper and his men charged home upon the young King and either side engaged in fierce combat and sore slaughter befel. But the usurper had the better of the battle and purposed to seize the young King amidst his many when, lo and behold! appeared a Knight backing a coal-black mare; and he was armed cap-à-pie in a coat of mail, and he carried a spear and a mace. With these he bore down upon the usurper and shore off his right forearm so that he fell from his destrier, and the Knight seeing this struck him a second stroke with the sword and parted head from body. When his army saw the usurper fall, all sought safety in flight and sauve qui peut; but the army of the young King came up with them and caused the scymitar to fall upon them so that were saved of them only those to whom length of life was foreordained. Hereupon the victors lost no time in gathering the spoils and the horses together; but the young King stood gazing at the Knight and considering his prowess; yet he failed to recognise him and after an hour or so the stranger disappeared leaving the conqueror sorely chafed and vexed for that he knew him not and had failed to forgather with him. After this the young King returned from the battle-field with his band playing behind him and he entered the seat of his power, and was raised by the lieges to the station of his sire. Those who had escaped the slaughter dispersed in all directions and sought safety in flight and the partizans who had enthroned the young King thronged around him and gave him joy as also did the general of the city, whose rejoicings were increased thereby. Now the coming of the aforesaid Knight was a wondrous matter. When the rightful King made ready for battle the Princess feared for his life and, being skilled in the practice of every weapon, she escaped the notice of the Queen-dowager and after donning her war-garb and battle-gear she went forth to the stable and saddled her a mare and mounted her and pushed in between the two armies. And as soon as she saw the usurper charge down upon the young King as one determined to shed his life’s blood, she forestalled him and attacked him and tore out the life from between his ribs. Then she returned to her apartment nor did any know of the deed she had done. Presently, when it was eventide the young King entered the Palace after securing his succession to royalty; but he was still chafed and vexed for that he knew not the Knight. His mother met him and gave him joy of his safety and his accession to the Sultanate, whereto he made reply, “Ah! O my mother, my length of days was from the hand of a horseman who suddenly appearing joined us in our hardest stress and aided me in my straitest need and saved me from Death.” Quoth she, “O my son, hast thou recognised him?” and quoth he, “’Twas my best desire to discover him and to stablish him as my Wazir, but this I failed to do.” Now when the Princess heard these words she laughed and rejoiced and still laughing said, “To whoso will make thee acquainted with him what wilt thou give?” and said he, “Dost thou know him?” So she replied, “I wot him not” and he rejoined, “Then what is the meaning of these thy words?” when she answered him in these prosaic rhymes:175—
“O my lord, may I prove thy sacrifice
Nor exult at thy sorrows thine enemies!
Could unease and disease by others be borne
The slave should bear load on his lord that lies:
I’ll carry whatever makes thee complain
And be my body the first that dies.”
When he heard these words he again asked, “Dost thou know him?” and she answered, “He? Verily we wot him not;”176 and repeated the saying to him a second time: withal he by no means understood her. So quoth she, “How canst thou administer the Sultanate and yet fail to comprehend my simple words? For indeed I have made the case clear to thee.” Hereupon he fathomed the secret of the saying and flew to her in his joy and clasped her to his bosom and kissed her upon the cheeks. But his mother turned to him and said, “O my son, do not on this wise, for everything hath its time and season;"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan’s mother said, “O my son, everything hath its time and season; and whoso hurrieth a matter before opportunity befit shall be punished with the loss of it.” But he replied, “By Allah, O my mother, thy suspicion be misplaced: I acted thus only on my gratitude to her, for assuredly she is the Knight who came to my aidance and who saved me from death.” And his mother excused him. They passed that night in converse and next day at noontide the King sought the Divan in order to issue his commandments; but when the assembly filled the room and became as a garden of bloom the Lords of the land said to him, “O King of the Age, ’twere not suitable that thou become Sultan except thou take to thee a wife; and Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord who hath set thee on the necks of His servants and who hath restored the realm to thee as successor of thy sire. There is no help but that thou marry.” Quoth he, “To hear is to consent;” then he arose without stay or delay and went in to his mother and related to her what had happened. Quoth she, “O my son, do what becometh thee and Allah prosper thy affairs!” He said to her, “O my mother, retire thou with the maiden and persuade her to marriage for I want none other and I love not aught save herself,” and said she, “With joy and gladness.” So he went from her and she arose and was private with the damsel when she addressed her, “O my lady, the King desireth to wed thee and he wanteth none other and he seeketh not aught save thee.” But the Princess hearing this exclaimed, “How shall I marry, I who have lost my kith and kin and my dear ones and am driven from my country and my birth-place? This were a proceeding opposed to propriety! But if it need must be and I have the fortune to forgather with my mother and sisters and father, then and then only it shall take place.” The mother replied, “Why this delay, O my daughter? The Lords of the land have stood up against the King in the matter of marriage, and in the absence of espousals we fear for his deposition. Now maidens be many and their relations long to see each damsel wedded to my son and become a Queen in virtue of her husband’s degree: but he wanteth none other and loveth naught save thyself. Accordingly, an thou wouldst take compassion on him and protect him by thy consent from the insistence of the Grandees, deign accept him to mate.” Nor did the Sultan’s mother cease to speak soothing words to the maiden and to gentle her with soft language until her mind was made up and she gave consent.177 Upon this they began to prepare for the ceremony forthright, and summoned the Kazi and witnesses who duly knotted the knot of wedlock and by eventide the glad tidings of the espousals were bruited abroad. The King bade spread bride-feasts and banqueting tables and invited his high Officials and the Grandees of the kingdom and he went in to the maiden that very night and the rejoicings grew in gladness and all sorrows ceased to deal sadness. Then he proclaimed through the capital and all the burghs that the lieges should decorate the streets with rare tapestries and multiform in honour of the Sultanate. Accordingly, they adorned the thoroughfares in the city and its suburbs for forty days and the rejoicings increased when the King fed the widows and the Fakirs and the mesquin and scattered gold and robed and gifted and largessed till all the days of decoration were gone by. On this wise the sky of his estate grew clear by the loyalty of the lieges and he gave orders to deal justice after the fashion of the older Sultans, to wit, the Chosroës and the Cæsars; and this condition endured for three years, during which Almighty Allah blessed him by the Princess with two men-children as they were moons. Such was the case with the youngest Princess; but as regards the cadette, the second sister — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that as regards the case of the cadette, the second damsel, when she was adopted to daughter by the ancient dame she fell to spinning with her and living by the work of their hands. Now there chanced to govern that city a Báshá178 who had sickened with a sore sickness till he was near unto death; and the wise men and leaches had compounded for him of medicines a mighty matter which, however, availed him naught. At last the tidings came to the ears of the Princess who lived with the old woman and she said to her, “O my mother, I desire to prepare a tasse of broth and do thou bear it to the Basha and let him drink of it; haply will Almighty Allah vouchsafe him a cure whereby we shall gain some good.” Said the other, “O my daughter, and how shall I obtain admittance and who shall set the broth before him?” The maiden replied, “O my mother, at the Gate of Allah Almighty!”179 and the dame rejoined, “Do thou whatso thou willest.” So the damsel arose and cooked a tasse of broth and mingled with it sundry hot spices such as pimento180 and she had certain leaflets taken from the so-called Wind tree,181 whereof she inserted a small portion deftly mingling the ingredients. Then the old woman took it and set forth and walked till she reached the Basha’s mansion where the servants and eunuchs met her and asked her of what was with her. She answered, “This is a tasse of broth which I have brought for the Basha that he drink of it as much as he may fancy; haply Almighty Allah shall vouchsafe healing to him.” They went in and reported that to the Basha who exclaimed, “Bring her to me hither.” Accordingly, they led her within and she offered to him the tasse of broth, whereupon he rose and sat upright and removed the cover from the cup which sent forth a pleasant savour: so he took it and sipped of it a spoonful and a second and a third, when his heart opened to her and he drank of it till he could no more. Now this was in the forenoon and after finishing the soup he gave the old woman a somewhat of dinars which she took and returned therewith to the damsel rejoicing, and handed to her the gold pieces. But the Basha immediately after drinking the broth felt drowsy and he slept a restful sleep till mid-afternoon and when he awoke health had returned to his frame beginning from the time he drank. So he asked after the ancient dame and sent her word to prepare for him another tasse of broth like the first; but they told him that none knew her dwelling-place. Now when the old woman returned home the maiden asked her whether the broth had pleased the Basha or not; and she said that it was very much to his liking; so the girl got ready a second portion but without all the stronger ingredients182 of the first. Then she gave it to the dame who took it and went forth with it and whilst the Basha was asking for her behold, up she came and the servants took her and led her in to the Governor. On seeing her he rose and sat upright and called for other food and when it was brought he ate his sufficiency, albeit for a length of time he could neither rise nor walk. But from the hour he drank all the broth he sniffed the scent of health and he could move about as he moved when hale and hearty. So he asked the old dame saying, “Didst thou cook this broth?” and she answered, “O my lord, my daughter made it and sent me with it to thee.” He exclaimed, “By Allah this maiden cannot be thy daughter, O old woman; and she can be naught save the daughter of Kings. But bid her every day at morning-tide cook me a tasse of the same broth.” The other replied, “To hear is to obey,” and returned home with this message to the damsel who did as the Basha bade the first day and the second to the seventh day. And the Basha waxed stronger every day and when the week was ended he took horse and rode to his pleasure-garden. He increased continually in force and vigour till, one day of the days, he sent for the dame and questioned her concerning the damsel who lived with her; so she acquainted him with her case and what there was in her of beauty and loveliness and perfect grace. Thereupon the Basha fell in love with the girl by hearsay and without eye-seeing183:— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Basha fell in love with the girl by hearsay and without eye-seeing: so he changed his habit and donning a dress of Darwaysh-cut left his mansion and threaded the streets passing from house to house until he reached that of the old woman. He then knocked at the entrance and she came behind it and asked “Who’s at the door?” “A Darwaysh and a stranger,” answered he, “who knoweth no man in this town and who is sore anhungered.” Now the ancient dame was by nature niggardly and she had lief put him off, but the damsel said to her, “Turn him not away,” and quoting “Honour to the foreigner is a duty,” said, “So do thou let him in.” She admitted him and seated him when the maiden brought him a somewhat of food and stood before him in his service. He ate one time and ten times he gazed at the girl until he had eaten his sufficiency when he washed his hands and rising left the house and went his ways. But his heart flamed with love of the Princess and he was deeply enamoured of her and he ceased not walking until he reached his mansion whence he sent for the old woman. And when they brought her, he produced a mint of money and a sumptuous dress in which he requested and prayed her to attire the damsel: then the old woman took it and returned to her protegée, saying to herself, “By Allah, if the girl accept the Basha and marry him she will prove sensible as fortunate; but an she be not content so to do I will turn her out of my door.” When she went in she gave her the dress and bade her don it, but the damsel refused till the old woman coaxed her and persuaded her to try it on. Now when the dame left the Basha, he privily assumed a woman’s habit and followed in her footsteps; and at last he entered the house close behind her and beheld the Princess in the sumptuous dress. Then the fire of his desire flamed higher in his heart and he lacked patience to part from her, so he returned to his mansion with mind preoccupied and vitals yearning. Thither he summoned the old woman and asked her to demand the girl in marriage and was instant with her and cried, “No help but this must be.” Accordingly she returned home and acquainted the girl with what had taken place adding, “O my daughter, verily the Basha loveth thee and his wish is to wed thee: he hath been a benefactor to us, and thou wilt never meet his like; for that he is deeply enamoured of thee and the byword saith, ‘Reward of lover is return of love.’” And the ancient dame ceased not gentling her and plying her with friendly words till she was soothed and gave consent. Then she returned to the Basha and informed him of her success, so he joyed with exceeding joy, and without stay or delay bade slaughter beeves and prepare bridal feasts and spread banquets whereto he invited the notables of his government: after which he summoned the Kazi who tied the knot and he went in to her that night. And of the abundance of his love he fared not forth from her till seven days had sped; and he ceased not to cohabit with her for a span of five years during which Allah vouchsafed to him a man-child by her and two daughters. Such was the case with the cadette Princess; but as regards the eldest sister, when she entered the city in youth’s attire she was accosted by the Kunáfah-baker and was hired for a daily wage of a Mídí of silver besides her meat and drink in his house. Now ’twas the practice of that man every day to buy half a quartern of flour and thereof make his vermicelli; but when the so-seeming youth came to him he would buy and work up three quarterns; and all the folk who bought Kunafah of him would flock to his shop with the view of gazing upon the beauty and loveliness of the Youth and said, “Exalted be He who created and perfected what He wrought in the creation of this young man!” Now by the decree of the Decreer the baker’s shop faced the lattice-windows of the Sultan’s Palace and one day of the days the King’s daughter chanced to look out at the window and she saw the Youth standing with sleeves tucked up from arms which shone like ingots184 of silver. Hereat the Princess fell in love with the Youth — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Sultan’s daughter looked out at the window she fell in love with the youth, and she knew not how to act that she might forgather with him: so desire afflicted her and extreme fondness and presently she took to her pillow all for her affection to that young man. Thereupon her nurse went in to her and found her lying upon the carpet-bed a-moaning and a-groaning “Ah!” So she exclaimed, “Thy safety from all whereof thou hast to complain!” Then she took her hand and felt her pulse but could find in it no symptoms of sickness bodily, whereupon she said, “O my lady, thou hast no unease save what eyesight hath brought thee.” She replied, “O my mother, do thou keep sacred my secret, and if thy hand can reach so far as to bring me my desire, prithee do so;” and the nurse rejoined, “O my lady, like me who can keep a secret? therefore confide to me thy longing and Allah vouchsafe thee thy dearest hope.” Said the Princess, “O my mother, my heart is lost to the young man who worketh in the vermicelli-baker’s shop and if I fail to be united with him I shall die of grief.” The nurse replied, “By Allah, O my lady, he is the fairest of his age and indeed I lately passed by him as his sleeves were tucked up above his forearms and he ravished my wits: I longed to accost him but shame overcame me in presence of those who were round him, some buying Kunafah and others gazing on his beauty and loveliness, his symmetric stature and his perfect grace. But I, O my lady, will do thee a service and cause thee forgather with him ere long.” Herewith the heart of the Princess was solaced and she promised the nurse all good. Then the old woman left her and fell to devising how she should act in order to bring about a meeting between her and the youth or carry him into the Palace. So she went to the baker’s shop and bringing out an Ashrafi185 said to him, “Take, O Master, this gold piece and make me a platter186 of vermicelli meet for the best and send it for me by this Youth who shall bring it to my home that be near hand: I cannot carry it myself.” Quoth the baker in his mind, “By Allah, good pay is this gold piece and a Kunafah is worth ten silverlings; so all the rest is pure profit.” And he replied, “On my head and eyes be it, O my lady;” and taking the Ashrafi made her a plate of vermicelli and bade his servant bear it to her house. So he took it up and accompanied the nurse till she reached the Princess’s palace when she went in and seated the Youth in an out-of-the-way closet. Then she repaired to her nursling and said, “Rise up, O my lady, for I have brought thee thy desire.” The Princess sprang to her feet in hurry and flurry and fared till she came to the closet; then, going in she found the Youth who had set down the Kunafah and who was standing in expectation of the nurse’s return that he and she might wend homewards. And suddenly the Sultan’s daughter came in and bade the Youth be seated beside her, and when he took seat she clasped him to her bosom of her longing for him and fell to kissing him on the cheeks and mouth ever believing him to be a male masculant, till her hot desire for him was quenched.187 Then she gave to him two golden dinars and said to him, “O my lord and coolth of my eyes, do thou come hither every day that we may take our pleasure, I and thou.” He said, “To hear is to obey,” and went forth from her hardly believing in his safety, for he had learnt that she was the Sultan’s daughter, and he walked till he reached the shop of his employer to whom he gave the twenty dinars. Now when the baker saw the gold, affright and terror entered his heart and he asked his servant whence the money came; and, when told of the adventure, his horror and dismay increased and he said to himself, “An this case of ours continue, either the Sultan will hear that this youth practiseth upon his daughter, or she will prove in the family way and ’twill end in our deaths and the ruin of our country. The lad must quit this evil path.” Thereupon quoth he to the Youth, “From this time forwards do thou cease faring forth thereto,” whereat quoth the other, “I may not prevent myself from going and I dread death an I go not.” So the man cried, “Do whatso may seem good to thee.” Accordingly, the Princess in male attire fell to going every morning and meeting the Sultan’s daughter, till one day of the days she went in and the twain sat down and laughed and enjoyed themselves, when lo and behold! the King entered. And as soon as he espied the youth and saw him seated beside his daughter, he commanded him be arrested and they arrested him; — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Sultan entered and saw the youth sitting beside his daughter he commanded him to be arrested and they arrested him; they also seized the Princess and bound her forearms to her sides with straitest bonds. Then the King summoned the Linkman and bade him smite off both their heads: so he took them and went down with them to the place of execution. But when the tidings reached the Kunáfáni he shut up shop without stay and delay and fled. Presently the Sultan said in his mind, “Fain would I question the Youth touching his object in entering hither, and ask him who conducted him to my daughter and how he won access to her.” Accordingly he sent to bring back the twain and imprisoned them till night-fall: then he went in to his Harem and caused his daughter’s person to be examined, and when they inspected her she proved to be a pure maid. This made the King marvel, for he supposed that the Youth must have undone her maidenhead;188 so he sent for him to the presence, and when he came he considered him and found him fairer even than his daughter; nay, far exceeding her in beauty and loveliness. So he cried, “By Allah this be a wondrous business! Verily my daughter hath excuse for loving this Youth nor to my judgment doth she even him in charms: not the less this affair is a shame to us, and the foulest of stains and needs must the twain be done to death to-morrow morning!” Herewith he commanded the jailer to take the Youth and to keep him beside him and he shut up the girl with her nurse. The jailer forthwith led his charge to the jail; but it so happened that its portal was low; and, when the Youth was ordered to pass through it, he bent his brow down-wards for easier entrance, when his turband struck against the lintel and fell from his head. The jailer turned to look at him, and behold, his hair was braided and the plaits being loosed gleamed like an ingot of gold. He felt assured that the youth was a maiden so he returned to the King in all haste and hurry and cried, “Pardon, O our lord the Sultan!” “Allah pardon us and thee;” replied the King, and the man rejoined, “O King of the Age, yonder Youth is no boy; nay, he be a virgin girl.” Quoth the Sultan, “What sayest thou?” and quoth the other, “By the truth of Him who made thee ruler of the necks of His worshippers, O King of the Age, verily this is a maiden.” So he bade the prison-keeper bring her and set her in his presence and he returned with her right soon, but now she paced daintily as the gazelle and veiled her face, because she saw that the jailer had discovered her sex. The King then commanded them carry her to the Harem whither he followed her and presently, having summoned his daughter, he questioned her concerning the cause of her union with the so-seeming Youth. Herewith she related all that had happened with perfect truth: he also put questions to the Princess in man’s habit, but she stood abashed before him and was dumb, unable to utter a single word. As soon as it was morning, the Sultan asked of the place where the Youth had dwelt and they told him that he lodged with a Kunáfah-baker, and the King bade fetch the man, when they reported that he had fled. However, the Sultan was instant in finding him, so they went forth and sought him for two days when they secured him and set him between the royal hands. He enquired into the Youth’s case and the other replied, “By Allah, O King of the Age, between me and him were no questionings and I wot not whence may be his origin.” The Monarch rejoined, “O man, thou hast my plighted word for safety, so continue thy business as before and now gang thy gait.” Then he turned to the maiden and repeated his enquiries, when she made answer saying, “O my lord, my tale is wondrous and my adventures marvellous.” “And what may they be?” he asked her. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Princess said to the Sultan, “In very sooth my tale is passing strange,” and he besought her to recount it. So she began to disclose the whole of her history and the adventures which had befallen her and her sisters and their mother; especially of the shipwreck in middle-most ocean and of her coming to land; after which she told the affair of the Wazir burnt by her sire, that traitor who had separated children from father and, brief, all that had betided them from first to last. Hearing her soft speech and her strange story the Sultan marvelled and his heart inclined herwards; then he gave her in charge to the Palace women and conferred upon her favours and benefits. But when he looked upon her beauty and loveliness, her brilliancy and perfect grace he fell deeply in love with her, and his daughter hearing the accidents which had happened to the Princess’s father cried, “By Allah, the story of this damsel should be chronicled in a book, that it become the talk of posterity and be quoted as an instance of the omnipotence of Allah Almighty; for He it is who parteth and scattereth and re-uniteth.” So saying she took her and carried her to her own apartment where she entreated her honourably; and the maiden, after she had spent a month in the Palace, showed charms grown two-fold and even more. At last one day of the days, as she sat beside the King’s daughter in her chamber about eventide, when the sun was hot after a sultry summer day and her cheeks had flushed rosy red, behold, the Sultan entered passing through the room on his way to the Harem and his glance undesignedly189 fell upon the Princess who was in home gear, and he looked a look of eyes that cost him a thousand sighs. So he was astounded and stood motionless knowing not whether to go or to come; and when his daughter sighted him in such plight she went up to him and said, “What hath betided thee and brought thee to this condition?” Quoth he, “By Allah, this girl hath stolen my senses from my soul: I am fondly enamoured of her and if thou aid me not by asking her in marriage and I fail to wed her ’twill make my wits go clean bewildered.” Thereupon the King’s daughter returned to the damsel and drawing near her said, “O my lady and light of my eyes, indeed my father hath seen thee in thy deshabille and he hath hung190 all his hopes upon thee, so do not thou contrary my words nor the counsel I am about to offer thee.” “And what may that be, O my lady?” asked she, and the other answered, “My wish is to marry thee to my sire and thou be to him wife and he be to thee man.” But when the maiden heard these words she wept with bitter weeping till she sobbed aloud and cried, “Time hath mastered us and decreed separation: I know nothing of my mother and sisters and father, an they be dead or on life, and whether they were drowned or came to ground; then how should I enjoy a bridal fête when they may be in mortal sadness and sorrow?” But the other ceased not to soothe her and array fair words against her and show her fondly friendship till her soul consented to wedlock. Presently the other brought out to her what habit befitted the occasion still comforting her heart with pleasant converse,191 after which she carried the tidings to her sire. So he sent forthright to summon his Lords of the reign and Grandees of the realm and the knot was tied between them twain; and, going in unto her that night, he found her a hoard wherefrom the spell had freshly been dispelled; and of his longing for her and his desire to her he abode with her two se’nnights never going forth from her or by night or by day. Hereat the dignitaries of his empire were sore vexed for that their Sultan ceased to appear at the Divan and deal commandment between man and man, and his daughter went in and acquainted him therewith. He asked her how long he had absented himself and she answered saying, “Knowest thou how long thou hast tarried in the Palace?” whereto he replied, “Nay.” “Fourteen whole days,” cried she, whereupon he exclaimed, “By Allah, O my daughter, I thought to myself that I had spent with her two days and no more.” And his daughter wondered to hear his words. Such was the case of the cadette Princess; but as regards the King, the father of the damsel, when he forgathered with the mother of his three daughters and she told him of the shipwreck and the loss of her children he determined to travel in search of the three damsels, he and the Wazir habited as Darwayshes. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan resolved to travel in search of his children (the three damsels) he and his Wazir habited as Darwayshes. So leaving the government in charge of his wife he went forth and the twain in their search first visited the cities on the seaboard beginning with the nearest; but they knew not what was concealed from them in the world of the future. They stinted not travelling for the space of a month till they came to a city whose Sultan had a place hight Al-Dijlah192 whereupon he had built a Palace. The Darwayshes made for it and found the King sitting in his Kiosque193 accompanied by two little lads, the elder eight years old and the second six. They drew near to him and saluting him offered their services and blessed him, wishing him length of life as is the fashion when addressing royalties; and he returned their greetings and made them draw near and showed them kindness; also, when it was eventide he bade his men serve them with somewhat of food. On the next day the King fared forth to Tigris-bank and sat in his Kiosque together with the two boys. Now the Darwayshes had hired them a cell in the Khan whence it was their daily wont to issue forth and wander about the city asking for what they sought; and this day they again came to the place wherein sat the Sultan and they marvelled at the fair ordinance of the Palace. They continued to visit it every day till one day of the days the two went out, according to their custom, and when entering the Palace one of the King’s children, which was the younger, came up to them and fell to considering them as if he had forgotten his own existence. This continued till the Darwayshes retired to their cell in the caravanserai whither the boy followed them to carry out the Secret Purpose existing in the All-knowledge of Allah. And when the two sat down the Sultan’s son went in to them and fell to gazing upon them and solacing himself with the sight, when the elder Darwaysh clasped him to his bosom and fell to kissing his cheeks, marvelling at his semblance and at his beauty; and the boy in his turn forgot his father and his mother and took to the old man. Now whenas night fell the Sultan retired homewards fancying that his boy had foregone him to his mother while the Sultánah fancied that her child was with his father, and this endured till such time as the King had entered the Harem. But only the elder child was found there so the Sultan asked, “Where is the second boy?” and the Queen answered, “Day by day thou takest them with thee to Tigris-bank and thou bringest them back; but to-day only the elder hath returned.” Thereupon they sought him but found him not and the mother buffeted her face in grief for her child and the father lost his right senses. Then the high Officials fared forth to search for their King’s son and sought him from early night to the dawn of day, but not finding him they deemed that he had been drowned in Tigris-water. So they summoned all the fishermen and divers and caused them to drag the river for a space of four days. All this time and the boy abode with the Darwayshes, who kept saying to him, “Go to thy father and thy mother;” but he would not obey them and he would sit with the Fakirs upon whom all his thoughts were fixed while theirs were fixed upon him. This lasted till the fifth day when the door-keeper unsummoned entered the cell and found the Sultan’s son sitting with the old men; so he went out hurriedly and repairing to the King cried, “O my Sovran, thy boy is with those Darwayshes who were wont daily to visit thee.” Now when the Sultan heard the porter’s words, he called aloud to his Eunuchs and Chamberlains and gave them his orders; when they ran a race, as it were, till they entered upon the holy men and carried them from their cell together with the boy and set all four194 before the Sultan. The King exclaimed, “Verily these Darwayshes must be spies and their object was to carry off my boy;” so he took up his child and clasped him to his bosom and kissed him again and again of his yearning fondness to him, and presently he sent him to his mother who was well-nigh frantic. Then he committed the two Fakirs (with commands to decapitate them) to the Linkman who took them and bound their hands and bared their heads and fell to crying, “This be his reward and the least of awards who turneth traitor and kidnappeth the sons of the Kings;” and as he cried all the citizens great and small flocked to the spectacle. But when the boy heard the proclamation, he went forth in haste till he stood before the elder Darwaysh who was still kneeling upon the rug of blood and threw himself upon him at full length till the Grandees of his father forcibly removed him. Then the executioner stepped forward purposing to strike the necks of the two old men and he raised his sword hand till the dark hue of his arm-pit showed195 and he would have dealt the blow when the boy again made for the elder Fakir and threw himself upon him not only once but twice and thrice, preventing the Sworder’s stroke and abode clinging to the old man. The Sultan cried, “This Darwaysh is a Sorcerer:” but when the tidings reached the Sultanah, the boy’s mother, she exclaimed, “O King, needs must this Darwaysh have a strange tale to tell, for the boy is wholly absorbed in him. So it is not possible to slay him on this wise till thou summon him to the presence and question him: I also will listen to him behind the curtain and thus none shall hear him save our two selves.” The King did her bidding and commanded the old man to be brought: so they took him from under the sword and set him before the King — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that at the King’s bidding they took up the Fakir who was still kneeling under the glaive and set him before the King who bade him be seated. And when he sat him down the Sultan commanded all who were in the presence of Eunuchs and Chamberlains to withdraw, and they withdrew leaving the Sovran with the old religious. But the second Darwaysh still knelt in his bonds under the sword of the Sworder who, standing over against his head, kept looking for the royal signal to strike. Then cried the King, “O Mendicant, what drove thee to take my son, the core of my heart?” He replied, “By Allah, O King, I took him not for mine own pleasure; but he would not go from me and I threatened him, withal he showed no fear till this destiny descended upon us.” Now when the Sultan heard these words his heart softened to the old man and he pitied him while the Sultanah who sat behind the curtain fell to weeping aloud. Presently the King said, “O Darwaysh, relate to us thy history, for needs must it be a singular;” but the old man began to shed tears and said, “O King of the Age, I have a marvellous adventure which were it graven with needle-gravers upon the eye-corners were a warning to whoso would be warned.” The Sultan was surprised and replied, “What then may be thy history, O Mendicant?” and the other rejoined, “O King of the Age, I will recount it to thee.”196 Accordingly he told him of his kingship and the Wazir tempting his wife and of her slaying the nurse, the slave-girls, and the Eunuch; but when he came to this point the Sultanah ran out in haste and hurry from behind the curtain and rushing up to the Darwaysh threw herself upon his bosom. The King seeing this marvelled and in a fury of jealousy clapped hand to hilt crying to the Fakir, “This be most unseemly behaviour!” But the Queen replied, “Hold thy hand, by Allah, he is my father and I am his loving daughter;” and she wept and laughed alternately197 all of the excess of her joy. Hereat the King wondered and bade release the second religious and exclaimed, “Sooth he spake who said:—
Allah joineth the parted when think the twain
With firmest thought ne’er to meet again.”
Then the Sultanah began recounting to him the history of her sire and specially what befel him from his Wazir; and he, when he heard her words, felt assured of their truth. Presently he bade them change the habits of her father and of his Wazir and dress them with the dress of Kings; and he set apart for them an apartment and allotted to them rations of meat and drink; so extolled be He who disuniteth and reuniteth! Now the Sultanah in question was the youngest daughter of the old King who had been met by the Knight when out hunting, the same that owed all his fair fortunes to her auspicious coming. Accordingly the father was assured of having found the lost one and was delighted to note her high degree; but after tarrying with her for a time he asked permission of his son-in-law to set out in quest of her two sisters and he supplicated Almighty Allah to reunite him with the other twain as with this first one. Thereupon quoth the Sultan, “It may not be save that I accompany thee, for otherwise haply some mishap of the world may happen to thee.” Then the three sat down in council debating what they should do and in fine they agreed to travel, taking with them some of the Lords of the land and Chamberlains and Nabobs. They made ready and after three days they marched out of the city — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the old King marched forth the city accompanied by his son-in-law and his Wazir after the Sultan had supplied his own place by a Vice-regent who would carry out his commandments. Then they turned to travelling in quest of the two lost daughters and stinted not their wayfare for a space of twenty days, when they drew near a city lofty of base, and, finding a spacious camping plain, thereon pitched their tents. The time was set of sun, so the cooks applied themselves to getting ready the evening meal and when supper was served up all ate what sufficed them, and it was but little because of the travails of travel, and they nighted in that site until morn was high. Now the ruler of that city was a Sultan mighty of might, potent of power and exceeding in energy; and he was surprised to hear a Chamberlain report to him saying, “O King of the Age, after an eventless night early this morning we found outside thy capital tents and pavilions with standards and banners planted overagainst them and all this after the fashion of the Kings.” The Sovran replied, “There is no help but that to these creations of Allah some requirement is here: however, we will learn their tidings.” So he took horse with his Grandees and made for the ensigns and colours, and drawing near he noted gravity and majesty in the array and eunuchs and followers and serving-men standing ready to do duty. Then he dismounted and walked till he approached the bystanders whom he greeted with the salam. They salam’d in return and received him with most honourable reception and highmost respect till they had introduced him into the royal Shahmiyánah; when the two Kings rose to him and welcomed him and he wished them long life in such language as is spoken by Royalties; and all sat down to converse one with other. Now the Lord of the city had warned his people before he fared forth that dinner must be prepared; so when it was mid-forenoon the Farrásh-folk198 spread the tables with trays of food and the guests came forward, one and all, and enjoyed their meal and were gladdened. Then the dishes were carried away for the servants and talk went round till sun-set, at which time the King again ordered food to be brought and all supped till they had their sufficiency. But the Sultan kept wondering in his mind and saying, “Would Heaven I wot the cause of these two Kings coming to us!” and when night fell the strangers prayed him to return home and to revisit them next morning. So he farewelled them and fared forth. This lasted three days, during which time he honoured them with all honour, and on the fourth he got ready for them a banquet and invited them to his Palace. They mounted and repaired thither when he set before them food; and as soon as they had fed, the trays were removed and coffee and confections and sherbets were served up and they sat talking and enjoying themselves till supper-tide when they sought permission to hie campwards. But the Sultan of the city sware them to pass the night with him; so they returned to their session till the father of the damsels said, “Let each of us tell a tale that our waking hours may be the more pleasant.” “Yes,” they replied and all agreed in wishing that the Sultan of the city would begin. Now by the decree of the Decreer the lattice-window of the Queen opened upon the place of session and she could see them and hear every word they said. He began, “By Allah I have to relate an adventure which befel me and ’tis one of the wonders of our time.” Quoth they, “And what may it be?"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan of the city said:— In such a year I had a malady which none availed to medicine until at last an old woman came to me bearing a tasse of broth which when I drank caused health return to me. So I bade her bring me a cupful every day and I drank it till, after a time, I chanced to ask her who made that broth and she answered that it was her daughter. And one day I assumed a disguise and went to the ancient dame’s house and there saw the girl who was a model of beauty and loveliness, brilliancy, symmetric stature and perfect grace, and seeing her I lost my heart to her, and asked her to wife. She answered, “How can I wed; I separated from my sisters and parents and all unknowing what hath become of them?” Now when the father of the damsels heard these words, tears rolled down his cheeks in rills and he remembered his two lost girls and wept and moaned and complained, the Sultan looking on in astonishment the while; and when he went to his Queen he found her lying in a fainting fit. Hereupon he cried out her name and seated her and she on coming to exclaimed, “By Allah, he who wept before you is my very father: by Him who created me I have no doubt thereof!” So the Sultan went down to his father-in-law and led him up to the Harem and the daughter rose and met him and they threw their arms round each other’s necks, and fondly greeted each other. After this the old King passed the night relating to her what had befallen him while she recounted to him whatso hath betided her, from first to last, whereupon their rejoicings increased and the father thanked Almighty Allah for having found two of his three children. The old King and his sons-in-law and his Wazir ceased not to enjoy themselves in the city, eating and drinking199 and making merry for a space of two days when the father asked aidance of his daughters’ husbands to seek his third child that the general joy might be perfected. This request they granted and resolved to journey with him; so they made their preparations for travel and issued forth the city together with sundry Lords of the land and high Dignitaries, all taking with them what was required of rations. Then travelling together in a body they faced the march. This was their case; but as regards the third daughter (she who in man’s attire had served the Kunáfah-baker), after being married to the Sultan his love for her and desire to her only increased and she cohabited with him for a length of time. But one day of the days she called to mind her parents and her kith and kin and her native country, so she wept with sorest weeping till she swooned away and when she recovered she rose without stay or delay and taking two suits of Mameluke’s habits patiently awaited the fall of night. Presently she donned one of the dresses and went down to the stables where, finding all the grooms asleep, she saddled her a stallion of the noblest strain and clinging to the near side mounted him. Then, having supplicated the veiling of the Veiler, she fared under cover of the glooms for her own land, all unweeting the way, and when night gave place to day she saw herself amidst mountains and sands; nor did she know what she should do. However she found on a hill-flank some remnants of the late rain which she drank; then, loosing the girths of her horse she gave him also to drink and she was about to take her rest in that place when, lo and behold! a lion big of bulk and mighty of might drew near her and he was lashing his tail200 and roaring thunderously. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the lion advanced to spring upon the Princess who was habited as a Mameluke, and rushed to rend her in pieces, she, seeing her imminent peril, sprang up in haste and bared her blade and met him brand in hand saying, “Or he will slay me or I slay him.” But as she was hearty of heart she advanced till the two met and fell to fight and struck each at other, but the lion waxed furious and gnashed his tusks, now retreating and now circuiting around her and then returning to front his foe purposing to claw her, when she heartened her heart and without giving ground she swayed her sabre with all the force of her forearm and struck the beast between the eyes and the blade came out gleaming between his thighs and he sank on earth life-forlore and weltering in his gore. Presently she wiped her scymitar and returned it to its sheath; then, drawing a whittle she came up to the carcass intending to skin it for her own use, when behold, there towered from afar two dust-clouds, one from the right and the other from the left, whereat she withdrew from flaying the lion’s fell and applied herself to looking out. Now by the decree of the Decreer the first dust-cloud approaching her was that raised by the host of her father and his sons-in-law who, when they drew near all stood to gaze upon her and consider her, saying in wonderment one to other, “How can this white slave (and he a mere lad) have slain this lion single-handed? Walláhi, had that beast charged down upon us he had scattered us far and wide, and haply he had torn one of us to pieces. By Allah, this matter is marvellous!” But the Mameluke looked mainly at the old King whom he knew to be his sire for his heart went forth to him. Meanwhile the second dust-cloud approached until those beneath it met the others who had foregone them, and behold, under it was the husband of the disguised Princess and his many. Now the cause of this King marching forth and coming thither was this. When he entered the Palace intending for the Harem, he found not his Queen, and he fared forth to seek her and presently by the decree of the Decreer the two hosts met at the place where the lion had been killed. The Sultan gazed upon the Mameluke and marveiled at his slaying the monster and said to himself, “Now were this white slave mine I would share with him my good and stablish him in my kingdom.” Herewith the Mameluke came forward and flayed the lion of his fell and gutted him; then, lighting a fire he roasted somewhat of his flesh until it was sufficiently cooked all gazing upon him the while and marvelling at the heartiness of his heart. And when the meat was ready, he carved it and setting it upon a Sufrah201 of leather said to all present, “Bismillah, eat, in the name of Allah, what Fate hath given to you!” Thereupon all came forward and fell to eating of the lion’s flesh except the Princess’s husband who was not pleased to join them and said, “By Allah, I will not eat of this food until I learn the case of this youth.”202 Now the Princess had recognised her spouse from the moment of his coming, but she was concealed from him by her Mameluke’s clothing; and he disappeared time after time then returned to gaze upon the white slave, eyeing now his eyes now his sides and now the turn of his neck and saying privily in his mind, “Laud to the Lord who created and fashioned him! By Allah this Mameluke is the counterpart of my wife in eyes and nose, and all his form and features are made likest-like unto hers. So extolled be He who hath none similar and no equal!” He was drowned in this thought but all the rest ate till they had eaten enough; then they sat down to pass the rest of their day and their night in that stead. When it was dawn each and every craved leave to depart upon his own business; but the Princess’s husband asked permission to wander in quest of her while the old King, the father of the damsels, determined to go forth with his two sons-in-law and find the third and last of his lost daughters. Then the Mameluke said to them, “O my lords, sit we down, I and you, for the rest of the day in this place and to-morrow I will travel with you.” Now the Princess for the length of her wanderings (which began too when she was a little one) had forgotten the semblance of her sire; but when she looked upon the old King her heart yearned unto him and she fell to talking with him, while he on his part whenever he gazed at her felt a like longing and sought speech of her. So the first who consented to the Mameluke’s proposal was the sire whose desire was naught save to sit beside her; then the rest also agreed to pass the day reposing in that place, for that it was a pleasant mead and a spacious, garnished with green grass and bright with bourgeon and blossom. So they took seat there till sundown when each brought out what victual he had and all ate their full and then fell to conversing; and presently said the Princess, “O my lords, let each of you tell us a tale which he deemeth strange.” Her father broke in saying, “Verily this rede be right and the first to recount will be I, for indeed mine is a rare adventure.” Then he began his history telling them that he was born a King and that such-and-such things had befallen him and so forth until the end of his tale; and the Princess hearing his words was certified that he was her sire. So presently she said, “And I too have a strange history."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Princess in Mameluke’s habit said, “And I too have a strange history.” Then she fell to relating all that had betided her from the very beginning to that which hath before been described; and when her father heard it he felt assured that she was his daughter. So he arose and threw himself upon her and embraced her and after he veiled her face with a kerchief was with him, and her husband exclaimed, “Would to Heaven that I also could forgather with my wife.” Quoth she, “Inshallah, and that soon,” and she inclined to him after kindly fashion and said to herself, “Indeed this be my true husband.” Herewith all resolved to march from that stead and they departed, the Princess’s spouse still unknowing that she was his wife; and they stinted not faring till they entered the Sultan’s city and all made for the Palace. Then the Princess slipped privily into the Harem without the knowledge of her mate and changed her semblance, when her father said to her husband, “Hie thee to the women’s apartment: haply Allah may show to thee thy wife.” So he went in and found her sitting in her own apartment and he marvelled as he espied her and drew near her and threw his arms round her neck of his fond love to her and asked her concerning her absence. Thereupon she told him the truth saying, “I went forth seeking my sire and habited in a Mameluke’s habit and ’twas I slew the lion and roasted his flesh over the fire, but thou wouldest not eat thereof.” At these words the Sultan rejoiced and his rejoicings increased and all were in the highmost of joy and jolliment; he and her father with the two other sons-in-law, and this endured for a long while. But at last all deemed it suitable to revisit their countries and capitals and each farewelled his friends and the whole party returned safe and sound to their own homes.203 Now when it was the next night and that was
Shahrazad began to relate
151 MS. iii. 231-240; Scott’s “Story of the Sisters and the Sultana their mother,” vi. 82; Gauttier’s Histoire de la Sulthane et de ses trois Filles, vi. 228.
152 Arab, “Darajatáni”=lit. two astronomical degrees: the word is often used in this MS.
153 Arab. “Síwan;” plur. “Síwáwín.”
154 Arab. “‘Alá hudúd (or Alá hadd) al-Shauk,” repeated in MS. iii. 239.
155 Here the writer, forgetting that the youngest sister is speaking, breaks out into the third person —“their case”—“their mother,” etc.
156 The idea is that of the French anonyma’s “Mais, Monsieur, vous me suivez comme un lavement.”
157 The text (p. 243) speaks of two eunuchs, but only one has been noticed.
158 Arab. “Manjaník;” there are two forms of this word from the Gr. ÌÜããáíïí, or Ìç÷áíÞ, and it survives in our mangonel, a battering engine. The idea in the text is borrowed from the life of Abraham whom Nimrod cast by means of a catapult (which is a bow worked by machinery) into a fire too hot for man to approach.
159 Showing that he was older; otherwise she would have addressed him, “O my cousin.” A man is “young,” in Arab speech, till forty and some say fifty.
160 The little precatory formula would keep off the Evil Eye.
161 Supper comes first because the day begins at sundown.
162 Calotte or skull-cap; vol. i. 224; viii. 120.
163 This is a new “fact” in physics and certainly to be counted amongst “things not generally known.” But Easterns have a host of “dodges” to detect physiological differences such as between man and maid, virgin and matron, imperfect castratos and perfect eunuchs and so forth. Very Eastern, mutatis mutandis, is the tale of the thief-catcher, who discovered a fellow in feminine attire by throwing an object for him to catch in his lap and by his closing his legs instead of opening them wide as the petticoated ones would do.
164 She did not wish to part with her maidenhead at so cheap a price.
165 Arab. “Subú’” (for “Yaum al-Subú’") a festival prepared on the seventh day after a birth or a marriage or return from pilgrimage. See Lane (M. E. passim) under “Subooa.”
166 For this Anglo-Indian term,=a running courier, see vol. vii. 340. It is the gist of the venerable Joe Miller in which the father asks a friend to name his seven-months child. “Call him ‘Cossid’ for verily he hath accomplished a march of nine months in seven months.”
167 Arab. “Madáfi al-Salámah,” a custom showing the date of the tale to be more modern than any in the ten vols. of The Nights proper.
168 Master, captain, skipper (not owner): see vols. i. 127; vi. 112.
169 Zahr al-Bahr=the surface which affords a passage to man.
170 Arab. “Batiyah,” gen.=a black jack, a leathern flagon.
171 “Kunafáh”=a vermicelli cake often eaten at breakfast: see vol. x. 1: “Kunafáni” is the baker or confectioner. Scott (p. 101) converts the latter into a “maker of cotton wallets for travelling.”
172 In the text (iii. 260) “Mídi,” a clerical error for “Mayyidí,” an abbreviation of “Muayyadí,” the Faddah, Nuss or half-dirham coined under Sultan al-Muayyad, A.H. ixth cent.=A.D. xvth.
173 Arab. “Rub’” (plur. “Arbá’")=the fourth of a “Waybah,” the latter being the sixth of an Ardabb (Irdabb)=5 bushels. See vol. i. 263.
174 A royal pavilion; according to Shakespear (Hind. Dict. sub voce) it is a corruption of the Pers. “Sayabán."=canopy.
175 Arab. “Musajja’"=rhymed prose: for the Saj’a, see vol. i. 116, and Terminal Essay, vol. x. p. 220. So Chaucer:—
In rhyme or ellès in cadence.
176 Arab. “Huwa inná na’rifu-h” lit.=He, verily we wot him not: the juxtaposition of the two first pronouns is intended to suggest “I am he.”
177 In Moslem tales decency compels the maiden, however much she may be in love, to show extreme unwillingness in parting with her maidenhead especially by marriage; and this farce is enacted in real life (see vol. viii. 40). The French tell the indecent truth,
Désir de fille est un feu qui dévore:
Désir de femme est plus fort encore.
178 The Arab. form (our old “bashaw”) of the Turk. “Pasha,” which the French and many English write Pacha, thus confusing the vulgar who called Ibrahim Pacha “Abraham Parker.” The origin of the word is much debated and the most fanciful derivations have been proposed. Some have taken it from the Sansk. “Paksha”=a wing: Fuerst from Pers. Páigáh=rank, dignity; Von Hammer (History) from Pái-Sháh=foot of the king; many from “Pádisháh”=the Sovran, and Mr. E. T. W. Gibb suspects a connection with the Turk. “Básh”=a head. He writes to me that the oldest forms are “Bashah” and “Báshah”; and takes the following quotation from Colonel Jevád Bey, author of an excellent work on the Janissaries published a few years ago. “As it was the custom of the (ancient) Turks to call the eldest son ‘Páshá,’ the same style was given to his son Alá al-Din (Aladdín) by Osmán Gházi, the founder of the Empire; and he kept this heir at home and beside him, whilst he employed the cadet Orkhan Bey as his commander-in-chief. When Orkhán Gházi ascended the throne he conferred the title of Páshá upon his son Sulayman. Presently reigned Murád (Amurath), who spying signs of disaffection in his first-born Sáwújí Bey about the middle of his reign created Kárá Khalíl (his Kází-Askar or High Chancellor) Wazir with the title Kazyr al-Dín Pasha; thus making him, as it were, an adopted son. After this the word passed into the category of official titles and came to be conferred upon those who received high office.” Colonel Jevád Bey then quotes in support of his opinion the “History of Munajjim Pasha” and the “Fatáyah al-Wakú‘at”=Victories of Events. I may note that the old title has been sadly prostituted in Egypt as well as in Turkey: in 1851 Páshás could be numbered on a man’s fingers; now they are innumerable and of no account.
179 Arab. “‘Alà bábi ‘lláh”=for the love of the Lord, gratis, etc., a most popular phrase.
180 Arab. “Bahár,” often used for hot spices generally.
181 In the text Shajarat Ríh.
182 Arab. “Ma’ádin”=minerals, here mentioned for the first time.
183 For the ear conceiving love before the eye (the basis of half these love-stories), see vol. iii. 9.
184 According to Dr. Steingass “Mirwad”=the iron axle of a pulley or a wheel for drawing water or lifting loads, hence possibly a bar of metal, an ingot. But he is more inclined to take it in its usual sense of “Kohl-pencil.” Here “Mirwád” is the broader form like “Miftáh” for “Miftah,” much used in Syria.
185 For the Ashrafi, a gold coin of variable value, see vol. iii. 294. It is still coined; the Calcutta Ashrafi worth £1 11s. 8d. is 1/16th (about 5s. to the oz.) better than the English standard, and the Regulations of May, 1793, made it weigh 190.894 grs. Troy.
186 In text “Anjar”=a flat platter; Pers.
187 By what physical process the author modestly leaves to the reader’s imagination. Easterns do not often notice this feminine venereal paroxysm which takes the place of seminal emission in the male. I have seen it happen to a girl when hanging by the arms a trifle too long from a gymnastic cross-bar; and I need hardly say that at such moments (if men only knew them) every woman, even the most modest, is an easy conquest. She will repent it when too late, but the flesh has been too strong for her.
188 A neat and suggestive touch of Eastern manners and morals.
189 In text “Ghayr Wa’d,” or “Min ghayr Wa’d.” Lit. without previous agreement: much used in this text for suddenly, unexpectedly, without design.
190 The reader will have remarked the use of the Arabic “‘Alaka”=he hung, which with its branches greatly resembles the Lat. pendere.
191 Arab. “Min al-Malábis,” plur. of “Malbas”=anything pleasant or enjoyable; as the plural of “Milbas”=dress, garment, it cannot here apply.
192 i.e. “The Tigris” (Hid-dekel), with which the Egyptian writer seems to be imperfectly acquainted. See vols. i. 180; viii. 150.
193 The word, as usual misapplied in the West, is to be traced through the Turk. Kúshk (pron. Kyúshk) to the Pers. “Kushk”=an upper chamber.
194 Four including the doorkeeper. The Darwayshes were suspected of kidnapping, a practice common in the East, especially with holy men. I have noticed in my Pilgrimage (vols. ii. 273; iii. 327), that both at Meccah and at Al-Medinah the cheeks of babes are decorated with the locally called “Masháli”=three parallel gashes drawn by the barber with the razor down the fleshy portion of each cheek, from the exterior angles of the eyes almost to the corners of the mouth. According to the citizens this “Tashrít” is a modern practice distinctly opposed to the doctrine of Al-Islam; but, like the tattooing of girls, it is intended to save the children from being carried off, for good luck, by kidnapping pilgrims, especially Persians.
195 The hair being shaven or plucked and showing the darker skin. In the case of the axilla-pile, vellication is the popular process: see vol. ix. 139. Europeans who do not adopt this essential part of cleanliness in hot countries are looked upon as impure by Moslems.
196 Here a little abbreviation has been found necessary: “of no avail is a twice-told tale.”
197 The nearest approach in Eastern tales to Western hysterics.
198 A tent-pitcher, body servant, etc. See vol. vii. 4. The word is still popular in Persia.
199 The amount of eating and drinking in this tale is phenomenal; but, I repeat, Arabs enjoy reading of “meat and drink” almost as much as Englishmen.
200 Arab writers always insist upon the symptom of rage which distinguishes the felines from the canines; but they do not believe that the end of the tail has a sting.
201 The circular leather which acts alternately provision bag and table-cloth. See vols. i. 178; v. 8; viii. 269, and ix. 141.
202 He refused because he suspected some trick and would not be on terms of bread and salt with the stranger.
203 The story contains excellent material, but the writer or the copier has “scamped” it in two crucial points, the meeting of the bereaved Sultan and his wife (Night ccclxxvii.) and the finale where we miss the pathetic conclusions of the Mac. and Bresl. Edits. Also a comparison of this hurried dénouement with the artistic tableau of “King Omar bin al-Nu’uman,” where all the actors are mustered upon the stage before the curtain falls, measures the difference between this MS. and the printed texts, showing the superior polish and finish of the latter.
It hath been related that in Tarabulus-town205 of Syria was a Kazi appointed under orders of the Caliph Hárún al-Rashíd to adjudge law-suits and dissolve contracts and cross-examine witnesses; and after taking seat in his Mahkamah206 his rigour and severity became well known to all men. Now this judge kept a black hand-maiden likest unto a buffalo-bull and she cohabited with him for a lengthened while; for his nature was ever niggardly nor could anyone wrest from him half a Faddah or any alms-gift or aught else; and his diet was of biscuit207 and onions. Moreover, he was ostentatious as he was miserly: he had an eating-cloth bordered with a fine bell fringe,208 and when any person entered about dinner-time or supper-tide he would cry out, “O handmaid, fetch the fringed table-cloth;” and all who heard his words would say to themselves, “By Allah, this must needs be a costly thing.” Presently one day of the days his assessors and officers said to him, “O our lord the Kazi, take to thyself a wife, for yon negress becometh not a dignitary of thy degree.” Said he, “An this need be, let any who hath a daughter give her to me in wedlock and I will espouse her.” Herewith quoth one present, “I have a fair daughter and a marriageable,” whereto quoth the Kazi, “An thou wouldst do me a favour this is the time.” So the bride was fitted out and the espousals took place forthright and that same night the Kazi’s father-in-law came to him and led him in to his bride saying in his heart, “I am now connected with the Kazi.” And he took pleasure in the thought for he knew naught of the judge’s stinginess and he could not suppose but that his daughter would be comfortable with her mate and well-to-do in the matter of diet and dress and furniture. Such were the fancies which occurred to him; but as for the Kazi, he lay with the maid and abated her maidenhead; and she in the morning awaited somewhat where-with to break her fast and waited in vain. Presently the Kazi left her and repaired to his court-house whither the city folk came and gave him joy of his marriage and wished him good morning, saying in themselves, “Needs must he make a mighty fine bride feast.” But they sat there to no purpose until past noon when each went his own way privily damning the judge’s penuriousness. As soon as they were gone he returned to his Harem and cried out to his black wench, “O handmaiden, fetch the fringed table-cloth;” and his bride hearing this rejoiced, saying to herself, “By Allah, his calling for this cloth requireth a banquet which befitteth it, food suitable for the Kings.” The negress arose and faring forth for a short time returned with the cloth richly fringed and set upon it a Kursi-stool,209 and a tray of brass whereon were served three biscuits and three onions. When the bride saw this, she prayed in her heart saying, “Now may my Lord wreak my revenge upon my father!” but her husband cried to her, “Come hither, my girl,” and the three sat down to the tray wherefrom each took a biscuit and an onion. The Kazi and the negress ate all their portions, but the bride could not swallow even a third of the hard bread apportioned to her; so she rose up, heartily cursing her father’s ambition in her heart. At supper-tide it was the same till the state of things became longsome to her and this endured continuously for three days, when she was ready to sink with hunger. So she sent for her sire and cried aloud in his face. The Kazi hearing the outcries of his bride asked, “What is to do?” whereupon they informed him that the young woman was not in love with this style of living. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the bride was not in love with the Kazi’s mode of living; so he took her and cut off her nose and divorced her, falsely declaring that she had behaved frowardly. On the next day he proposed for another wife and married her and entreated her in like fashion as the first; and when she demanded a divorce, he shredded off her nostrils and put her away; and whatever woman he espoused he starved by his stinginess and tortured with hunger, and when any demanded a divorce he would chop off her nose on false presences and put her away without paying aught either of her marriage settlement or of the contingent dowry. At last the report of that Kazi’s avarice came to the ears of a damsel of Mosul-city, a model of beauty and loveliness who had insight into things hidden and just judgment and skilful contrivance. Thereupon, resolved to avenge her sex, she left her native place and journeyed till she made Tarabulus; and by the decree of the Decreer at that very time the judge, after a day spent in his garden, purposed to return home so he mounted his mule and met her half-way between the pleasance and the town. He chanced to glance at her and saw that she was wondrous beautiful and lovely, symmetrical and graceful and the spittle ran from his mouth wetting his mustachios; and he advanced and accosting her said, “O thou noble one, whence comest thou hither?” “From behind me!” ”Connu. I knew that; but from what city?” “From Mosul.” “Art thou single and secluded or femme couverte with a husband alive?” “Single I am still!” “Can it be that thou wilt take me and thou become to me mate and I become to thee man?” “If such be our fate ’twill take place and I will give thee an answer to-morrow;” and so saying the damsel went on to Tarabulus. Now the Kazi after hearing her speech felt his love for her increase; so next morning he sent to ask after her, and when they told him that she had alighted at a Khan, he despatched to her the negress his concubine with a party of friends to ask her in marriage, notifying that he was Kazi of the city. Thereupon she demanded a dower of fifty dinars and naming a deputy caused the knot be knotted and she came to him about evening time and he went in to her. But when it was the supper hour he called as was his wont to his black handmaiden saying “Fetch the fringed table-cloth,” and she fared forth and fetched it bringing also three biscuits and three onions, and as soon as the meal was served up all three sat down to it, the Kazi, the slave-girl, and the new bride. Each took a biscuit and an onion and ate them up and the bride exclaimed “Allah requite thee with wealth. By Allah, this be a wholesome supper.” When the judge heard this he was delighted with her and cried out, “Extolled be the Almighty for that at last He hath vouchsafed to me a wife who thanketh the Lord for muchel or for little!” But he knew not what the Almighty had decreed to him through the wile and guile, the malice and mischief of women. Next morning the Kazi repaired to the Mahkamah and the bride arose and solaced herself with looking at the apartments, of which some lay open whilst others were closed. Presently she came to one which was made fast by a door with a wooden bolt and a padlock of iron: she considered it and found it strong but at the threshold was a fissure about the breadth of a finger; so she peeped through and espied gold and silver coins heaped up in trays of brass which stood upon Kursi-stools and the nearest about ten cubits from the door. She then arose and fetched a long wand, the mid-rib of a date-palm,210 and arming the end with a lump of leaven she pushed it through the chink under the door and turned it round and round upon the money-trays as if sewing or writing. At last two dinars stuck to the dough and she drew them through the fissure and returned to her own chamber; then, calling the negress, she gave her the ducats saying, “Go thou to the Bazar and buy us some mutton and rice and clarified butter; and do thou also bring us some fresh bread and spices and return with them without delay.” The negress took the gold and went to the market, where she bought all that her lady bade her buy and speedily came back, when the Kazi’s wife arose and cooked a notable meal, after which she and the black chattel ate whatso they wanted. Presently the slave brought basin and ewer to her lady and washed her hands and then fell to kissing her feet, saying, “Allah feed thee, O my lady, even as thou hast fed me, for ever since I belonged to this Kazi I have lacked the necessaries of life.” Replied the other, “Rejoice, O handmaiden, for henceforth thou shalt have every day naught but the bestest food of manifold kinds;” and the negress prayed Allah to preserve her and thanked her. At noon the Kazi entered and cried, “O handmaid fetch the fringed cloth,” and when she brought it he sat down and his wife arose and served up somewhat of the food she had cooked and he ate and rejoiced and was filled and at last he asked, “Whence this provision?” She answered, “I have in this city many kinsfolk who hearing of my coming sent me these meats and quoth I to myself, When my lord the Kazi shall return home he shall make his dinner thereof.” On the next day she did as before and drawing out three ducats called the slave-girl and gave her two of them bidding her go to the Bazar and buy a lamb ready skinned and a quantity of rice and clarified butter and greens and spices and whatso was required for dressing the dishes. So the handmaid went forth rejoicing, and bought all her lady had ordered and forthwith returned when her mistress fell to cooking meats of various kinds and lastly sent to invite all her neighbours, women and maidens. When they came she had got ready the trays garnished with dainty food211 and served up to them all that was suitable and they ate and enjoyed themselves and made merry. Now this was about mid-forenoon, but as mid-day drew near they went home carrying with them dishes full of dainties which they cleared and washed and sent back till everything was returned to its place. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the guests of the Kazi’s wife fared from her before turn of sun; and, when it was noon, behold, the Kazi entered his Harem and said, “O hand-maiden, fetch the fringed tablecloth,” when the wife arose and set before him viands of various sorts. He asked whence they came and she answered saying, “This is from my maternal aunt who sent it as a present to me.” The judge ate and was delighted and abode in the Harem till set of sun. But his wife ceased not daily to draw money from his hoard and to expend it upon entertaining her friends and gossips, and this endured for a whole year. Now beside her mansion dwelt a poor woman in a mean dwelling and every day the wife would feed her and her husband and babes; moreover she would give them all that sufficed them. The woman was far gone with child and the other charged her saying, “As soon as ’tis thy time to be delivered, do thou come to me for I have a mind to play a prank upon this Kazi who feareth not Allah and who, whenever he taketh to himself a wife, first depriveth her of food till she is well nigh famished, then shreddeth off her nose under false pretences and putteth her away taking all her belongings and giving naught of dower either the precedent or the contingent.” And the poor woman replied, “To hear is to obey.” Then the wife persisted in her lavish expenditure till her neighbour came to her already overtaken by birth-pains, and these lasted but a little while when she was brought to bed of a boy. Hereupon the Kazi’s wife arose and prepared a savoury dish called a Baysárah,212 the base of which is composed of beans and gravied mallows213 seasoned with onions and garlic. It was noon when her husband came in and she served up the dish; and he being anhungered ate of it and ate greedily and at supper time he did likewise. But he was not accustomed to a Baysarah, so as soon as night came on his paunch began to swell; the wind bellowed in his bowels; his stress was such that he could not be more distressed and he roared out in his agony. Herewith his wife ran in and cried to him, “No harm shall befal thee, O my lord!” and so saying she passed her hand over his stomach and presently exclaimed “Extolled be He, O my lord; verily thou art pregnant and a babe is in thy belly."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Kazi’s wife came up to him and passing her palm over his paunch presently cried, “Extolled be He, O my lord: verily thou art pregnant and a babe is in thy belly.” Quoth the Kazi, “How shall a man bear a child?” and quoth she, “Allah createth whatso He willeth.” And as they two sat at talk the flatulence and belly-ache increased and violent colic214 set in and the torments waxed still more torturing. Then the wife rose up and disappeared but presently she returned with her pauper neighbour’s newly-born babe in her sleeve, its mother accompanying it: she also brought a large basin of copper and she found her husband rolling from right to left and crying aloud in his agony. At last the qualms215 in his stomach were ready to burst forth and the rich food to issue from his body, and when this delivery was near hand the wife privily set the basin under him like a close stool and fell to calling upon the Holy Names and to shampooing and rubbing down his skin while she ejaculated, “The name of Allah be upon thee!”216 But all this was of her malice. At last the prima via opened and the Kazi let fly, whereat his wife came quickly behind and setting the babe upon its back gently pinched it so that it began to wail, and said, “O man, Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord, who hath so utterly relieved thee of thy burthen,” and she fell to muttering Names over the newborn. Then quoth he, “Have a care of the little one and keep it from cold draughts;” for the trick had taken completely with the Kazi and he said in his mind, “Allah createth whatso He willeth: even men if so predestined can bring forth.” And presently he added, “O woman, look out for a wet nurse to suckle him;” and she replied, “O my lord, the nurse is with me in the women’s apartments.” Then having sent away the babe and its mother she came up to the Kazi and washed him and removed the basin from under him and made him lie at full length. Presently after taking thought he said, “O woman, be careful to keep this matter private for fear of the folk who otherwise might say, ‘Our Kazi hath borne a babe.’ “ She replied, “O my lord, as the affair is known to other than our two selves how can we manage to conceal it?” and after she resumed, “O my husband, this business can on no wise be hidden from the people for more than a week or at most till next month.” Herewith he cried out, “O my calamity; if it reach the ears of folk and they say, ‘Our Kazi hath borne a babe,’ then what shall we do?” He pondered the matter until morning when he rose before daylight and, taking some provaunt secretly, made ready to depart the city, saying, “O Allah, suffer none to see me!” Then, after giving his wife charge of the house and bidding her take care of his effects and farewelling her, he went forth secretly from her and journeyed that day and a second and a third until the seventh, when he entered Damascus of Syria where none knew him. But he had no spending money for he could not persuade himself to take even a single dinar from his hoard and he had provided himself with naught save the meagrest provision. So his condition was straitened and he was compelled to sell somewhat of his clothes and lay out the price upon his urgent needs; and when the coin was finished he was forced to part with other portions of his dress till little or nothing of it remained to him. Then, in his sorest strait, he went to the Shaykh of the Masons and said to him, “O master, my wish is to serve in this industry;”217 and said he, “Welcome to thee.” So the Kazi worked through every day for a wage of five Faddahs. Such was his case; but as regards his wife — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on this coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Kazi went forth from his wife she threw a sherd218 behind him and muttered, “Allah never bring thee back from thy journey.” Then she arose and threw open the rooms and noted all that was in them of moneys and moveables and vaiselle and rarities, and she fell to feeding the hungry and clothing the naked and doling alms to Fakirs saying, “This be the reward of him who mortifieth the daughters of folk and devoureth their substance and shreddeth off their nostrils.” She also sent to the women he had married and divorced, and gave them of his good the equivalent of their dowers and a solatium for losing their noses. And every day she assembled the goodwives of the quarter and cooked for them manifold kinds of food because her spouse the Kazi was possessed of property approaching two Khaznahs219 of money, he being ever loath to expend what his hand could hend and unprepared to part with aught on any wise, for the excess of his niggardness and his greed of gain. Nor did she cease from so doing for a length of time until suddenly she overheard folk saying, “Our Kazi hath borne a babe.” And such bruit spread abroad and was reported in sundry cities, nor ceased the rumour ere it reached the ears of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid in Baghdad city. Now hearing it he marvelled and cried, “Extolled be Allah! this hap, by the Lord, never can have happened save at the hand of some woman, a wise and a clever at contrivance; nor would she have wrought after such fashion save to make public somewhat erst proceeding from the Kazi, either his covetous intent or his high-handedness in commandment. But needs must this good wife be summoned before me and recount the cunning practice she hath practiced; — Allah grant her success in the prank she hath played upon the Judge.” Such was her case; but as concerns the Kazi, he abode working at builders’ craft till his bodily force was enfeebled and his frame became frail; so presently quoth he to himself, “Do thou return to thy native land, for a long time hath now passed and this affair is clean forgotten.” Thereupon he returned to Tarabulus, but as he drew near thereto he was met outside the city by a bevy of small boys who were playing at forfeits, and lo and behold! cried one to his comrades, “O lads, do ye remember such and such a year when our Kazi was brought to bed?”220 But the Judge hearing these words returned forthright to Damascus by the way he came, saying to himself, “Hie thee not save to Baghdad city for ’tis further away than Damascus!” and set out at once for the House of Peace. However he entered it privily, because he was still in the employ of the Prince of True Believers, Harun al-Rashid; and, changing semblance and superficials, he donned the dress of a Persian Darwaysh and fell to walking about the streets of the capital. Here met he sundry men of high degree who showed him favour, but he could not venture himself before the Caliph albe sundry of the subjects said to him, “O Darwaysh, why dost thou not appear in the presence of the Commander of the Faithful? Assuredly he would bestow upon thee many a boon, for he is a true Sultan; and, specially, an thou panegyrise him in poetry, he will largely add to his largesse.” Now by the decree of Destiny the viceregent of Allah upon His Earth had commended the Kazi’s wife be brought from Tarabulus: so they led her into the presence and when she had kissed ground before him and salam’d to him and prayed for the perpetuity of his glory and his existence, he asked her anent her husband and how he had borne a child and what was the prank she had played him and in what manner she had gotten the better of him. She hung her head groundwards awhile for shame nor could she return aught of reply for a time, when the Commander of the Faithful said to her, “Thou hast my promise of safety and again safety, the safety of one who betrayeth not his word.” So she raised her head and cried, “By Allah, O King of the Age, the story of this Kazi is a strange”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the Kazi’s wife, “By Allah, O King of the Age, the story of this Kazi is a strange and of the wonders of the world and ’tis as follows. My spouse is so niggardly of nature and greedy of gain that whatso wife he weddeth he starveth her with hunger and, whenas she loseth patience, he shreddeth her nostrils and putteth her away, taking all her good and what not. Now this case continued for a while of time. Also he had a black slave-wench and a fine eating-cloth and when dinner-time came he would cry, O handmaid, fetch the fringed table-cloth! whereupon she would bring it and garnish it with three biscuits and three onions, one to each mouth. Presently accounts of this conduct came to me at Mosul, whereupon I removed me to Tarábulus, and there played him many a prank amongst which was the dish of Baysar by me seasoned with an over quantity of onions and garlic and such spices as gather wind in the maw and distend it like a tom-tom and breed borborygms.221 This I gave him to eat and then befel that which befel. So I said to him, Thou art in the family way and tricked him, privily bringing into the house a new-born babe. When his belly began to drain off I set under him a large metal basin and after pinching the little one I placed it in the utensil and recited Names over it. Presently quoth he, Guard my little stranger from the draught and bring hither a wet-nurse; and I did accordingly. But he waxed ashamed of the birth and in the morning he fared forth the city nor knew we what Allah had done with him. But as he went I bespake him with the words which the poet sang when the Ass of Umm Amr222 went off:—
Ass and Umm Amr bewent their way;
Nor Ass nor Umm Amr returned for aye,
and then I cited the saying of another:—
When I forced him to fare I bade him hie,
Where Umm Kash’am223 caused her selle to fly.”
Now as the Caliph Harun al-Rashid heard these words he laughed so hearty a laugh that he fell backwards and bade the goodwife repeat her history till he waxed distraught for excess of merriment, when lo and behold! a Darwaysh suddenly entered the presence. The wife looked at her husband and recognised him; but the Caliph knew not his Kazi, so much had time and trouble changed the Judge’s cheer. However, she signalled to the Commander of the Faithful that the beggar was her mate and he taking the hint cried out, “Welcome to thee, O Darwaysh, and where be the babe thou bearest at Tarabulus?” The unfortunate replied, “O King of the Age, do men go with child?” and the Prince of True Believers rejoined, “We heard that the Kazi bare a babe and thou art that same Kazi now habited in Fakir’s habit. But who may be this woman thou seest?” He made answer “I wot not;” but the dame exclaimed, “Why this denial, O thou who fearest Allah so little? I conjure thee by the life of the King to recount in his presence all that betided thee.” He could deny it no longer so he told his tale before the Caliph, who laughed at him aloud; and at each adventure the King cried out, “Allah spare thee and thy child, O Kazi!” Thereupon the Judge explained saying, “Pardon, O King of the Age, I merit even more than what hath betided me."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the Kazi to the King, “I deserve even more than what hath betided me for my deeds were unrighteous, O Ruler of the Time. But now the twain of us be present between thy hands; so do thou, of thy generous grace and the perfection of thy beneficence, deign reconcile me unto my wife and from this moment forwards I repent before the face of Allah nor will I ever return to the condition I was in of niggardise and greed of gain. But ’tis for her to decide and on whatever wise she direct me to act, therein will I not gainsay her; and do thou vouchsafe to me the further favour of restoring me to the office I whilome held.” When the Prince of True Believers, Harun al-Rashid, heard the Kazi’s words he turned to the Judge’s wife and said, “Thou also hast heard what thy mate hath averred: so do thou become to him what thou wast before and thou hast command over all which thy husband requireth.” She replied, “O King of the Age, even as thou hast the advantage of knowing, verily the Heavens and the son of Adam change not; for that man’s nature is never altered except with his existence nor doth it depart from him save when his life departeth. However, an he speak the truth let him bind himself by a deed documented under thy personal inspection and thine own seal; so that if he break his covenant the case may be committed to thee.” The Caliph rejoined,” Sooth thou sayest that the nature of Adam’s son is allied to his existence;” but the Kazi exclaimed, “O our lord the Sultan, bid write for me the writ even as thou hast heard from her mouth and do thou deign witness it between us twain.” Thereupon the King reconciled their differences and allotted to them a livelihood which would suffice and sent them both back to Tarabulus-town. This is all that hath come down to us concerning the Kazi who bare a babe: yet ’tis as naught compared with the tale of the Bhang-eaters, for their story is wondrous and their adventures delectable and marvellous. “What may it be?” asked Shahryar; so Shahrazad began to recount
204 Vol. iii. pp. 386-97, where it follows immediately the last story. Scott (Story of the Avaricious Cauzee and his Wife, vi. 112) has translated it after his own fashion, excising half and supplying it out of his own invention; and Gauttier has followed suit in the Histoire du Cadi avare et de sa Femme, vi. 254.
205 Tarábulus and Atrábulus are Arabisations of Tripolis (hod. Tripoli) the well-known port-town north of Bayrút; founded by the Phoenicians, rose to fame under the Seleucidæ, and was made splendid by the Romans. See Socin’s “Bædeker,” p. 509.
206 i.e. the Kazi’s court-house
207 Arab. “Buksumah” = “hard bread” (Americanicè).
208 Arab. “Sufrah umm jalájil.” Lit. an eating-cloth with little bells, like those hung to a camel, or metal plates as on the rim of a tambourine.
209 The Kursi here = the stool upon which the “Síníyah” or tray of tinned copper is placed, the former serving as a table. These stools, some 15 inches high and of wood inlaid with bone, tortoise-shell or mother-of-pearl, are now common in England, where one often sees children using them as seats. The two (Kursi and Síníyah) compose the Sufrah, when the word is used in the sense of our “dinner-table.” Lane (M.E. chapt. v.) gives an illustration of both articles.
210 Arab. “Jarídah,” a palm-frond stripped of its leaves (Supplemental vol. i. 203), hence the “Jaríd” used as a javelin; see vol. vi. 263.
211 An Egyptian or a Syrian housewife will make twenty dishes out of roast lamb, wholly unlike the “good plain cook” of Great or Greater Britain, who leaves the stomach to do all the work of digestion in which she ought to but does not assist.
212 A plate of “Baysár” or “Faysár,” a dish peculiar to Egypt; beans seasoned with milk and honey and generally eaten with meat. See Mr. Guy Lestrange’s “Al-Mukaddasi,” Description of Syria, p. 80; an author who wrote cir. A.H. 986. Scott (vi. 119) has “A savoury dish called byssarut, which is composed of parched beans and pounded salt meat, mixed up with various seeds, onions and garlic.” Gauttier (vi. 261) carefully avoids giving the Arabic name, which occurs in a subsequent tale (Nights cdxliv.) when a laxative is required.
213 Arab. “Mulúkhíyah náshiyah,” lit. = flowing; i.e. soft like épinards au jus. Mulúkhíya that favourite vegetable, the malva esculenta is derived from the Gr. {Greek letters} (also written {Greek letters} = to soften, because somewhat relaxing. In ancient Athens it was the food of the poorer classes and in Egypt it is eaten by all, taking the place of our spinach and sorrel.
214 Arab. “Kalak” = lit. “agitation,” “disquietude” and here used as syn. with “Kúlanj,” a true colic.
215 Arab. “Mazarát,” from “Mazr,” = being addled (an egg).
216 Here is an allusion to the “Massage,” which in these days has assumed throughout Europe all the pretensions of scientific medical treatment. The word has been needlessly derived from the Arab. “Mas’h” = rubbing, kneading; but we have the Gr. synonym ìÜóóù and the Lat. Massare. The text describes child-bed customs amongst Moslem women, and the delivery of the Kazi has all the realism of M. Zola’s accouchement in La Joie de Vivre.
217 Arab. “Fa’álah” = the building craft, builders’ trade.
218 In text “Kawwárah,” which is not found in the dictionaries. “Kuwáray”= that which is cut off from the side of a thing, etc. My translation is wholly tentative: perhaps Kawwára may be a copyist’s error for “Kazázah” = vulg. a (flask of) glass.
219 The “Khaznah,” = treasury, is a thousand “Kís” = 500 piastres, or £5 at par; and thus represents £5,000, a large sum for Tripoli in those days.
220 The same incident occurs in that pathetic tale with an ill name = “How Abu al-Hasan brake Wind.” vol. v. 135.
221 Arab. “Karkabah,” clerical error (?) for “Karkarah” = driving (as wind the clouds); rumbling of wind in bowels. Dr. Steingass holds that it is formed by addition of a second “K,” from the root “Karb,” one of whose meanings is: “to inflate the stomach.”
222 For Ummu ‘Amrin = mother of ‘Amru, so written and pronounced ” ‘Amr,” a fancy name, see vol. v. 118, for the Tale of the Schoolmaster, a well-known “Joe Miller.” [Ummu ‘Amrin, like Ummu ‘Ámirin, is a slang term for “hyena.” Hence, if Ass and Umm Amr went off together, it is more than likely that neither came back. — St.]
223 A slang name for Death. “Kash’am” has various sigs. esp. the lion, hence Rabí‘at al-Faras (of the horses), one of the four sons of Nizár was surnamed Al-Kash’am from his cœur de lion (Al-Mas’udi iii. 238). Another pleasant term for departing life is Abú Yáhyá = Father of John, which also means “The Living” from Hayy — Death being the lord of all: hence “Yamút” lit.= he dies, is an ill-omened name amongst Arabs. Kash’am is also a hyena, and Umm Kash’am is syn. with Umm ‘Ámir (vol. i. 43). It was considered a point of good breeding to use these “Kunyah” for the purpose of varying speech (see al-Hariri Ass. xix.). The phrase in the text = meaning went to hell, as a proverb was first used by Zuhayr, one of the “Suspended Poets.” Umm Kash’am was the P.N. of a runaway camel which, passing by a large fire, shied and flung its riding saddle into the flames. So in Al-Siyúti’s “History of the Caliphs” (p. 447), the text has “And Malak Shah went to where her saddle was thrown by Umm Kash’am,” which Major Jarrett renders “departed to hell-fire.”
There was a certain eater of Bhang — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that there was a certain eater of Bhang whose wont it was every day to buy three Faddahs’ worth of hemp and he would eat one third thereof in the morning and a second at noon and the rest about sundown. He was by calling a fisherman; and regularly as dawn appeared he would take hook and line and go down to the river a-fishing; then he would sell of his catch a portion, expending half a Faddah on bread and eat this with the remaining part of the fish broiled. He would also provide himself day by day with a waxen taper and light it in his cell and sit before it, taking his pleasure and talking to himself after his large dose of Bhang. In such condition he abode a while of time until one fine spring-night, about the middle of the month when the moon was shining sheeniest, he sat down to bespeak himself and said, “Ho, Such-an-one! hie thee forth and solace thy soul with looking at the world, for this be a time when none will espy thee and the winds are still.” Herewith he went forth intending for the river; but as soon as he issued from his cell-door and trod upon the square, he beheld the moonbeams bestrown upon the surface and, for the excess of his Bhang, his Fancy said to him, “By Allah, soothly the stream floweth strong and therein needs must be much store of fish. Return, Such-an-one, to thy cell, bring hook and line and cast them into these waters; haply Allah our Lord shall vouchsafe thee somewhat of fish, for men say that by night the fisherwight on mighty fine work shall alight.” He presently brought out his gear and, having baited the hook, made a cast into the moonlit square, taking station in the shadow of the walls where he believed the river bank to be. Then he bobbed225 with his hook and line and kept gazing at the waters, when behold! a big dog sniffed the bait and coming up to it swallowed the hook till it stuck in his gullet.226 The beast feeling it prick his throttle yelped with pain and made more noise every minute, rushing about to the right and the left: so the line was shaken in the man’s hand and he drew it in, but by so doing the hook pierced deeper and the brute howled all the louder; and it was pull Bhang-eater and pull cur. But the man dared not draw near the moonlight, holding it to be the river, so he tucked up his gown to his hip-bones, and as the dog pulled more lustily he said in his mind, “By Allah this must be a mighty big fish and I believe it to be a ravenous.”227 Then he gripped the line firmly and haled it in but the dog had the better of him and dragged him to the very marge of the moonlight; so the fisherman waxed afraid and began to cry, “Alack! Alack! Alack!228 To my rescue ye braves!229 Help me for a monster of the deep would drown me! Yallah, hurry ye, my fine fellows, hasten to my aid!” Now at that hour people were enjoying the sweets of sleep and when they heard these unseasonable outcries they flocked about him from every side and accosting him asked, “What is it? What maketh thee cry aloud at such an hour? What hath befallen thee?” He answered, “Save me, otherwise a river-monster will cause me fall into the stream and be drowned.” Then, finding him tucked up to the hips, the folk approached him and enquired, “Where is the stream of which thou speakest?” and he replied, “Yonder’s the river; be ye all blind?” Thereat they understood that he spoke of the moonbeams, whose sheen was dispread upon earth, deeming it a river-surface, and they told him this; but he would not credit them and cried, “So ye also desire to drown me; be off from me! our Lord will send me other than you to lend me good aid at this hour of need.” They replied, “O well-born one, this be moonshine;” but he rejoined, “Away from me, ye low fellows,230 ye dogs!” Then derided him and the angrier he grew the more they laughed, till at last they said one to other, “Let us leave him and wend our ways,” and they quitted him in such condition — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her Sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the folk who flocked to the assistance of the Bhang-eater left him in such condition, he crying aloud in affright, the dog being now before him in a phrenzy of pain for the hook sticking in his gullet and being unable to rid himself of it, while the man dreaded to draw near the moonshine, still deeming (albeit he stood upon terra firma) that he was about to step into the stream. So he hugged the wall shadow which to him represented the river-bank. In this case he continued until day brake and light shone and the to-ing and fro-ing of the folk increased; withal he remained as he was, crying out for affright lest he be drowned. Suddenly a Kazi rode by him and seeing him with gown kilted up and the hound hanging on to the hook, asked, “What may be the matter with thee, O man?” He answered saying, “O my lord, I dread lest I be drowned in this stream, whither a monster of the deep is a-dragging me.” The judge looked at him and knew him for a Bhang-eater, so he dismounted from his monture and cried to one of his attendants, “Catch hold of yon dog and unhook him!” Now this Kazi was also one who was wont to use Hashish; so quoth he to himself, “By Allah, take this fellow with thee and feed him in thy house and make a mocking-stock of him; and, as each night cometh on do thou and he eat together a portion of the drug and enjoy each other’s company.” Accordingly he took him and carrying him to his quarters seated him in a private stead until nightfall when the twain met and supped together; then they swallowed a large dose of Bhang and they lit candles and sat in their light to enjoy themselves.231 Presently from excess of the drug they became as men Jinn-mad, uttering words which befit not to intend or to indite,232 amongst which were a saying of the Bhang-eater to the Kazi, “By Allah, at this season I’m as great as the King;” and the Judge’s reply, “And I also at such time am as great as the Basha, the Governor.” Thereupon quoth to him the Bhang-eater, “I’m high above thee and if the King would cut off the Governor’s head what would happen to hinder him?” And quoth the Kazi, “Yea, verily; naught would hinder him; but ’tis the customs of Kings to appoint unto Governors a place wherein they may deal commandment.” Then they fell to debating the affairs of the Government and the Sultanate, when by decree of the Decreer the Sultan of the city went forth his palace that very night, accompanied by the Wazir (and the twain in disguise); and they ceased not traversing the town till they reached the house wherein sat the Bhang-eater and the Kazi. So they stood at the door and hear their talk from first to last, when the King turned to the Minister and asked, “What shall we do with these two fellows?” “Be patient, O King of the Age,” answered the Wazir, “until they make an end of their talk, after which whatso thou wilt do with them that will they deserve.” “True indeed,”233 quoth the ruler, “nevertheless, instead of standing here let us go in to them.” Now that night the boon-companions had left the door open forgetting to padlock it; so the visitors entered and salam’d to them and they returned the greeting and rose to them and bade them be seated. Accordingly they sat down and the Sultan said to the Bhang-eater, “O man, fearest thou not aught from the Sovran, thou and thy friend; and are ye sitting up until this hour?” He replied, “The Sultan himself often fareth forth at such untimely time, and as he is a King even so am I, and yonder man is my Basha: moreover, if the ruler think to make japery of us, we are his equals and more.” Thereupon the Sultan turned to his Wazir and said by signals, “I purpose to strike off the heads of these fellows;” and said the Minister in the same way, “O King, needs must they have a story, for no man with his wits in his head would have uttered such utterance. But patience were our bestest plan.” Then cried the Bhang-eater to the Sultan, “O man, whenever we say a syllable, thou signallest to thine associate. What is it thou wouldst notify to him and we not understanding it? By Allah, unless thou sit respectfully in our presence we will bid our Basha strike off thy pate!"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deed fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Sultan heard the Bhang-eater’s words he waxed the more furious and would have arisen and struck off his head; but the Wazir winked at him and whispered, “O King of the Age, I and thou are in disguise and these men imagine that we are of the commons: so be thou pitiful even as Almighty Allah is pitiful and willeth not the punishment of the sinner. Furthermore, I conceive that the twain are eaters of Hashish, which drug when swallowed by man, garreth him prattle of whatso he pleaseth and chooseth, making him now a Sultan then a Wazir and then a merchant, the while it seemeth to him that the world is in the hollow of his hand.” Quoth the Sultan, “And what may be thy description of Hashísh?” and quoth the Wazir, “’Tis composed of hemp leaflets, whereto they add aromatic roots and somewhat of sugar: then they cook it and prepare a kind of confection which they eat;234 but whoso eateth it (especially an he eat more than enough), talketh of matters which reason may on no wise represent. If thou wouldst know its secret properties, on the coming night (Inshallah!) we will bring some with us and administer it to these two men; and when they eat it the dose will be in addition to their ordinary.” After this the Sultan left them and went forth, when the Bhang-eater said to the Kazi, “By Allah, this night we have enjoyed ourselves and next night (if Allah please!) we will enjoy ourselves yet more.” The other replied, “Yes, but I fear from the Sultan, lest he learn our practice and cut off our heads.” “Who shall bring the Sovran to us?” asked the other: “he is in his palace and we are in our own place; and, granting he come, I will divert him by recounting an adventure which befel me.” The Kazi answered, “Have no dread of the Sultan; for he may not fare forth a-nights single-handed; nay, what while he issueth forth he must be escorted by his high officials.” Now when the next night fell, the Kazi brought the Hashish which he divided into two halves, eating one himself and giving the other to his companion; and both swallowed their portions after supper and then lit the waxen tapers and sat down to take their pleasure.235 Suddenly the Sultan and his Wazir came in upon them during the height of their enjoyment, and the visitors were habited in dress other than before, and they brought with them a quantity of Bhang-confection and also some conserve of roses: so they handed a portion of the first to the revellers, which these accepted and ate, while they themselves swallowed the conserve, the others supposing it to be Hashish like what they had eaten. Now when they had taken an overdose, they got into a hurly-burly of words and fell to saying things which can neither be intended nor indited, and amongst these they exclaimed, “By Allah, the Sultan is desposed and we will rule in his stead and deal commandment to his reign.” The other enquired, “And if the Sultan summon us what wilt thou say to him?” “By Allah, I will tell him a tale which befel myself and crave of him ten Faddahs wherewithal to buy Bhang!” “And hast thou any skill in tale-telling?” “In good sooth I have!” “But how wilt thou despose the Sultan and reign in his stead?” “I will say to him ‘Be off!’ and he will go.” “He will strike thy neck.” “Nay, the Sultan is pitiful and will not punish me for my words.” So saying the Bhang-eater arose and loosed the inkle of his bag-trowsers, then approaching the Sultan he drew forth his prickle and proceeded to bepiss him:236 but the King took flight as the other faced him, and fled before him, he pursuing. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Bhang-eater holding up his bag-trowsers ran after the Sultan purposing to bepiss him and caught up the fugitive at the doorway when he fell over the threshold and began a-piddling upon his own clothes. In like manner the Kazi attempted to bepiss the Wazir and ran after him to the entrance, where he also fell upon the Bhang-eater and took to making water over him. So the Bhang-eater and the Kazi lay each bewraying other, and the Sultan and the Wazir stood laughing at then and saying, “By Allah, too much Hashish injureth man’s wits;” and presently they left and went their ways returning to their palaces. But the two drunkards ceased not lying in their own water till day broke; and when the fumes of the drug had left heir brains, they arose and found themselves dripping and befouled with their own filth. Thereupon each said to other, “What be this cross hath betided us?” Presently they arose and washed themselves and their clothes; then sitting down together they said, “None did this deed by us save and except the two fellows who were with us; and who knoweth what they were, or citizens of this city or strangers; for ’twas they brought the intoxicant which we ate and it bred a madness in our brains. Verily ’twas they did the mischief; but, an they come to us a third time, needs must we be instant with them and learn from them and they be foreigners or folk of this city: we will force them to confess, but if they hide them from us we will turn them out.” On the next night they met again and the two sat down and ate a quantity of Hashish after they had supped: and they lit the waxen tapers and each of them drank a cup of coffee.237 Presently their heads whirled round under the drug and they sat down to talk and enjoy themselves when their drunkenness said to them, “Up with you and dance.” Accordingly they arose and danced, when behold, the Sultan and his Wazir suddenly came in upon them and salam’d to them: so they returned the salutation but continued the salutation. The new comers considered them in this condition and forthwith the King turned to the Minister and said, “What shall we do with them?” Said the other, “Patience until their case come to end in somewhat whereof we can lay hold.” Then they chose seats for themselves and solaced them with the spectacle, and the dancers kept on dancing until they were tired and were compelled to sit down and take their rest. Presently the Bhang-eater looked at the Sultan and exclaimed, “You, whence are you?” and he replied, “We be foreigner folk and never visited this city before that night when we met you; and as we heard you making merry we entered to partake of your merriment.” On this wise the device recoiled upon the Bhang-eater and presently the King asked them, saying, “Fear ye not lest the Sultan hear of you, and ye in this condition which would cause your disgrace at his hands?” The Bhang-eater answered, “The Sultan! What tidings of us can he have? He is in the royal Palaze and we in our place of Bhang-eating.” The Sovran rejoined, “Why not go to him! Belike he will gift you and largesse you;” but the Bhang-eater retorted, “We fear his people lest they drive us away.” Whereto quoth the King, “They will not do on such wise and if thou require it we will write thee a not to his address, for we know him of old inasmuch as both of us learned to read in the same school.” “Write thy writ,” quoth the other to the Sultan who after inditing it and sealing it placed it in their hands and presently the two visitors departed. Then the Bhang-eater and the Kazi sat together through the night until daylight did appear when the fumes of the Hashish had fled their brains and the weather waxed fine and clear. So they said, each to other, “Let us go to the Sultan,” and the twin set out together and walked till they reached the square facing the Palace. Here, finding a crowd of folk, they went up to the door and the Bhang-eater drew forth his letter and handed it to one of the Sultan’s suite, who on reading it fell to the ground and presently rising placed it upon his head. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the officer who took the letter caused the Bhang-eater and his comrade enter the presence, and the Sultan catching sight of them commanded them to be seated in a private stead where none other man was. His bidding was obeyed; and at noon-tide he sent them a tray of food for dinner and also coffee; and the same was done at sundown. But as soon as supper-tide came the Sultan prayed and recited sections of Holy Writ, as was his wont, until two hours had passed when he ordered the twain be summoned; and when they stood in the presence and salam’d to him and blessed him the King returned their salute and directed them to be seated. Accordingly they sat down and quoth the Sultan to the Bhang-eater, “Where be the man who gave you the writ?” Quoth the other, “O King of the Age, there were two men who came to use and said, ‘Why go ye not to the King? Belike he will gift you and largesse you.’ Our reply was, ‘We know him not and we fear lest his folk drive us away.’ So one of them said to us, ‘I will write thee a note to his address for we know him of old, inasmuch as both of us learned to read in the same school.’ Accordingly he indited it and sealed it and gave it to us; and coming hither we found his words true and now we are between his hands.” The Sultan enquired, “Was there any lack of civility to the strangers on your part?” and they replied, “None, save our questioning them and saying, ‘Whence come ye?’ whereto they rejoined, ‘We be strangers.’ Beyond this there was nothing unpleasant; nothing at all.” “Whither went they?” asked the King and the other answered, “I wot not.” The Sultan continued, “Needs must thou bring them to me for ’tis long since I saw them;” and the other remarked, “O King of the Age, if again they come to our place we will seize them and carry them before thee even perforce, but in case they come not, we have no means to hand.” Quoth the King, “An thou know them well, when thou catchest sight of them they cannot escape thee,” and quoth the other, “Yea, verily.” Then the Sultan pursued, “What did ye with the twain who came before them and ye wanted to bepiss them?” Now when the Bhang-eater heard these words his colour paled and his case changed, his limbs trembled and he suspected that the person which he had insulted was the Sultan; whereupon the King turned towards him and seeing in him signs of discomfiture asked, “What is in thy mind, O Bhang-eater? What hath befallen thee?” The other arose forthright and kissing ground cried, “Pardon, O King of the Age, before whom I have sinned.” The Sovran asked, “How didst thou know this?” and he answered, “Because none other was with us and news of us goeth not out of doors; so needs must thou have been one of the twain and he who wrote the writ was thyself; for well we know that the kings read not in schools. Thou and thy friend did come in disguise to make merry at our expense; therefore pardon us, O King of the Age, for mercy is a quality of the noble, and Almighty Allah said, ‘Whoso pardoneth and benefitteth his reward is with Allah,’ and eke He said, ‘And the stiflers of wrath and the pardoners of mankind and Allah loveth the doers of good’.”238 Herewith the Sultan smiled and said, “No harm shall befal thee, O Bhang-eater! Thine excuse is accepted and thy default pardoned, but, O thou clever fellow, hast thou no tale to tell us?” He replied, “O King of the Age, I have a story touching myself and my wife which, were it graven with needle-gravers upon the eye-corners were a warning to whoso would be warned. But I strave against her on my own behalf, withal she overcame me and tyrannised over me by her contrivance.” “What is it?” asked the King; so the man began to relate the
In the beginning of my career I owned only a single bull and poverty confused my wits. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good-will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Bhang-eater said to the Sultan:— I had no property save a single bull and poverty confused my wits. So I resolved to sell Roger239 and going to the Bazar stood therein expecting someone to buy it, but none came to me until the last of the day. At that time I drove it forth and dragged it off till we reached half-way to my home, where I came upon a tree and sat down to rest in the cool shade. Now I had somewhat of Bhang with me, also a trifle of bread which I brought out and ate, and after I drank a draught of water from the spring. Presently the Bhang began to wobble in my brains and behold a bird in the tree-top which men call a Magpie240 fell a-cawing, so I said to her, “Thou, O Mother of Solomon, hast thou a mind to buy the bull?” and she cawed again. I continued, “Whatso price ever thou settest upon the bull, at that will I cede it to thee.” Again a croak and I, “Haply thou hast brought no money?” Another croak and cried I, “Say the word and I will leave the bull with thee till next Friday when thou wilt come and pay me its price.” But she still cawed and I, whenever she opened beak, O King of the Age, fancied that she bespake me and wanted the bull. But all this was of the excess of my Bhang which kept working in my brains and I mistook the croaking for her conversing. Accordingly I left with her the bull bound to the tree and turned towards my village; and, when I went in to my wife, she asked me anent the bull and I told her of my selling it to the Mother of Solomon. “Who may she be?” asked my rib, and I replied, “She dwelleth in yonder tree;” whereat my spouse rejoined “Allah compensate thee with welfare.” So I awaited patiently the appointed term; then, after swallowing somewhat of Bhang, I repaired to the tree and sat beneath it when, lo and behold! the pie cawed and I cried to her, “Hast thou brought the coin?” A second caw! Then said I, “Come hither and bring me the money.” A third caw! Hereat I waxed wroth and arose and taking up a bittock of brick I threw it at her as she sat perched upon the tree, whereupon she flew off and alit upon an ‘old man’241 of clay hard by. So it occurred to my mind, “By Allah, the Mother of Solomon biddeth me follow her and recover the value of the bull from yonder ‘old man.’” Presently I went up to it and digging therein suddenly came upon a crock242 full of gold wherefrom I took ten ashrafis, the value of the bull, and returned it to its place, saying, “Allah ensure thy weal, O Mother of Solomon.” Then I walked back to my village and went in to my wife and said, “By Allah, verily the Mother of Solomon is of the righteous! Lookye, she gave me these ten golden ducats to the price of our Roger.” Said my wife, “And who may be the Mother of Solomon?” and I told her all that had befallen me especially in the matter of the crock of gold buried in the ‘old man.’ But after she heard my words she tarried until sundown; then, going to the land-mark she dug into it and carrying off the crock brought it home privily. But I suspected her of so doing and said to her, “O woman, hast thou taken the good of the Mother of Solomon (and she of the righteous) after we have received from her the price of our Roger out of her own moneys? And hast thou gone and appropriated her property? By Allah, an thou restore it not to its stead even as it was, I will report to the Wali that my wife hath happened upon treasure-trove.” And so saying I went forth from her. Then she arose and got ready somewhat of dough for cooking with flesh-meat and, sending for a fisherman, bade him bring her a few fishes fresh-caught and all alive, and taking these inside the house she drew sweet water and sprinkled them therewith, and lastly she placed the dough and meat outside the house ready for nightfall. Presently I returned and we supped, I and she; but ’twas my firm resolve to report my wife’s find to the Chief of Police. We slept together till midnight when she awoke me saying, “O man, I have dreamed a dream, and this it is, that the sky hath rained down drink and meat and that the fishes have entered our house.” I replied to her of my folly and the overmuch Bhang which disported in my head, “Let us get up and look.” So we searched the inside of the house and we found the fishes, and the outside where we came upon the doughboy and flesh-meat; so we fell to picking it up, I and she, and broiling it and eating thereof till morning. Then said I, “Do thou go and return the moneys of Solomon’s Mother to their own place.” But she would not and flatly refused. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Bhang-eater continued:— I said to my wife, “Do thou go and return the moneys of Solomon’s Mother to their own place;” but she would not and flatly refused. Then I repeated243 my words but without avail, so I flew into a fury and leaving her ceased not trudging till I found the Wali and said to him, “O my lord, my wife Such-an-one hath hit upon a hoard and ’tis now with her.”244 The Chief of Police asked, “O man, hast thou seen it?” and I answered, “Yes.” SO he sent a body of his followers to bring her before him and when she came said to her, “O wo-man, where is the treasure trove?” Said she, “O my lord, this report is a baseless;” whereupon the Chief of Police bade her be led to jail. They did his bidding and she abode in the prison a whole day, after which the Wali summoned her and repeated his words to her adding, “An thou bring not the hoard I will slay thee and cast thy corpse into the bogshop245 of the Hammam.” The woman (my wife) rejoined, “O my lord, I never found aught;” and when he persisted threatening her with death she cried, “O my lord, wherefore oppress me on this wise and charge such load of sin upon thine own neck? I never came upon treasure at all, at all!” The Chief of Police retorted, “My first word and my last are these:— Except thou bring the treasure trove I will slay thee and cast thee into the jakes.” Herewith quoth she, “O my lord, ask my husband where it was I hit upon the hoard and at what time, by day or by night,” and the Wali’s men cried, “By Allah, these her words are just and right, nor is therein aught of harm.” So he sent to summon me and asked me, “O man, when did thy wife hit upon the hoard?” I answered, “O my lord, she found it on the night when the skies rained drink and food and fishes.” Now when the Wali heard my words he said to me, “O man, the skies are not wont to shed aught save rainwater; and a man in his right wits speaketh not such speech as this.” Said I, “By the life of thy head, O my lord, they did rain all three of them;” but the officers cried, “O my lord, verily this man be Jinn-mad and his wife who telleth plain truth is wronged by him: the fellow deserveth confining in the Máristán.”246 Accordingly the Chief of Police bade the men set the woman free and let her wend her ways and seize me and throw me into the madhouse. They did his bidding and I remained there the first day and the second till the third when my wife said to herself, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! By the Lord, needs must I go and relieve my husband from Bedlam and charge him never again to speak of that treasure trove.” So she came to the Maristan and entering said to me, “Ho, Such-an-one, if any ask of thee saying, ‘What do the skies rain?’247 do thou make answer, ‘They rain water!’ Furthermore if they inquire of thee, ‘Do they ever rain drink and food and fishes?’ reply thou, ‘This is clean impossible, nor can such thing ever take place!’ Then haply they will say to thee, ‘How many days are in the week?’ and do thou say, ‘Seven days and this day be such a day!’ Lastly have a guard on thyself when speaking.” I rejoined, “’Tis well, and now hie thee forth and buy me half a faddah’s worth of Bhang, for during these days I have not eaten aught thereof.” So she went and bought me somewhat and of Hashish. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Bhang-eater’s wife fared forth and brought back somewhat of food and of Hashish: then returning to the Maristan (he continued) she gave both to me and I ate of them, after which I said to her, “Let us up and be off!” whereto she, “And when we go to the Wali what wilt thou say?” Then the Bhang wrought in the brains and I cried, “O bawd,248 O my nice young lady, well thou wottest that the skies did rain flesh and drink and fishes! Why then didst thou not tell the truth before the Chief of Police?” Thereupon the Manager of the Madhouse cried to me, “O fellow, this is the babble of madmen!” and I, “By Allah, I ate of them boiled; and doubtless the same kind of rain fell in your house.” The other exclaimed, “There be nor doubt nor hesitation anent the insanity of one who sayeth such say!” Now all this was related by the Bhang-eater to the Sultan who marvelled and asked him, “What could have made thee go to the Manager and recount to him such absurdities?” But the Bhang-eater resumed, saying, “I dwelt in the Maristan twenty days until at last having no Bhang to eat I came to my senses and confessed that the skies shed only rain-water, that the week containeth seven days and that this day be such-and-such; in fact I discoursed like a man in his right mind. So they discharged me and I went my ways.” But when the Kazi heard this tale he cried out to the Sultan, “O King of the Age, my story is still more wondrous than this, which is only a prank played by a wife. My name was originally Abú Kásim al-Tambúri249 and I was appointed Kazi after a neat thing I did, and if thou, O our lord the Sultan, desire to be told of the adventures which befel me and of the clever trick wherefor they made me a judge, deign give thy commandment and I will commence it.” Quoth the Sultan, “Recount to us why and where they entitled thee Kazi,” and the judge began to relate
224 Scott’s “Story of the Bhang-eater and Cauzee,” vi. 126: Gauttier, Histoire du Preneur d’Opium et du Cadi, vi. 268.
225 Arab. “Lawwaha” = lit. pointing out, making clear.
226 Text “in his belly,” but afterwards in his “Halkah” = throat, throttle, which gives better sense.
227 In text “Háyishah” from “Haysh” = spoiling, etc.
228 Arab. “Yauh!” See vols. ii. 321; vi. 235.
229 Arab. “Yá Jad’án” (pron. “Gád’án”) more gen. “Yá Jad’a” = mon brave!
230 In text “Yá ‘Arzád”: prob. a clerical slip for “‘Urzát,” plur. of “‘Urzah” = a companion, a (low) fellow, a man evil spoken of.
231 Easterns love drinking in a bright light: see vol. ii. 59.
232 Arab. “‘Akl” (= comprehension, understanding) and “Nakl” (= copying, describing, transcribing), a favourite phrase in this MS.
233 Arab. “Ummáli”; gen. Ummál, an affirmation; Certes, I believe you!
234 For the many preparations of this drug, see Herklots, Appendix, pp. lxviii. ciii. It is impossible to say how “Indian hemp,” like opium, datura, ether and chloroform, will affect the nervous system of an untried man. I have read a dozen descriptions of the results, from the highly imaginative Monte Cristo to the prose of prosaic travellers; and do not recognise that they are speaking of the same thing.
235 This tranquil enjoyment is popularly called “Kayf.” See my Pilgraimage i. 13. In a coarser sense it is applied to all manners of intoxication; and the French traveller Sonnini says, “The Arabs (by which he means the Egyptians) give the name of Kayf to the voluptuous relaxation, the delicious stupor, produced by the smoking of hemp.” I have smoked it and eaten it for months without other effect than a greatly increased appetite and a little drowsiness.
236 These childish indecencies are often attributed to Bhang-eaters. See “Bákún’s Tale of the Hashísh-eater,” vol. ii. 91. Modest Scott (vi. 129) turns the joke into “tweaking the nose.” Respectable Moslems dislike the subject, but the vulgar relish it as much as the sober Italian enjoys the description of a drinking bout — in novels.
237 In the text “Finjál,” a vulgarism for “Finján”: so the converse “Isma’ín” for “Ism’aíl” = Ishmael. Mr. J. W. Redhouse (The Academy No. 764) proposes a new date for coffee in Al-Yaman. Colonel Playfair (History of Yemen, Bombay 1859) had carelessly noted that its “first use at Aden was by a judge of the place who had seen it drunk at Zayla’, on the African coast opposite Aden,” and he made the judge die in A.H. 875 = A.D. 1470. This is about the date of the Shaykh al-Sházalí’s tomb at Mocha, and he was the first who brought the plant form about African Harar to the Arabian seaboard. But Mr. Redhouse finds in a Turkish work written only two centuries ago, and printed at Constantinople, in A.D. 1732, that the “ripe fruit was discovered growing wild in the mountains of Yemen (?) by a company of dervishes banished thither.” Finding the berry relieve their hunger and support their vigils the prior, “Shaykh ‘Umar advised their stewing it (?) and the use became established. They dried a store of the fruit; and its use spread to other dervish communities, who perhaps (?) sowed the seed wherever it would thrive throughout Africa (N.B. where it is indigenous) and India (N.B. where both use and growth are quite modern). From Africa, two centuries later, its use was reimported to Arabia at Aden (?) by the judge above mentioned, who in a season of scarcity of the dried fruit (?) tried the seed” (N.B. which is the fruit). This is passing strange and utterly unknown to the learned De Sacy (Chrest. Arab. i. 412-481).
238 Koran iii. 128. D’Herbelot and Sale (Koran, chap. iii. note) relate on this text a noble story of Hasan Ali-son and his erring slave which The Forty Vezirs (Lady’s eighth story, p. 113) ignorantly attributes to Harun al-Rashid:— Forthwith the Caliph rose in wrath and was about to hew the girl to pieces, when she said, “O Caliph, Almighty Allah saith in His glorious Word (the Koran), ‘And the stiflers of Wrath’” (iii. 128). Straightway the Caliph’s wrath was calmed. Again said the girl, “‘And the pardoners of men.’” (ibid.) Quoth the Caliph, “I have forgiven the crimes of all the criminals who may be in prison.” Again said the slave-girl, “‘And Allah loveth the beneficent.’” (ibid.) Quoth the Caliph, “God be witness that I have with my own wealth freed thee and us many male and female slaves as I have, and that this day I have for the love of Allah given the half of all my good in alms to the poor.” This is no improvement upon the simple and unexaggerated story in Sale. “It is related of Hasan, the son of Ali, that a slave having once thrown a dish on him boiling hot, as he sat at table, and fearing his master’s resentment, fell on his knees and repeated these words, Paradise is for those who bridle their anger. Hasan answered, I am not angry. The slave proceeded, And for those who forgive men. I forgive you, said Hasan. The slave, however, finished the verse, For Allah loveth the beneficent. Since it is so, replied Hasan, I give you your liberty and four hundred pieces of silver.”
239 The old name of the parish bull in rural England.
240 Arab. “Kawík:” see The Nights, vol. vi. 182, where the bird is called “Ak’ak.” Our dicts. do not give the word, but there is a “Kauk” (Káka, yakúku) to cluck, and “Kauk” = an aquatic bird with a long neck. I assume “Kawík” to be an intensive form of the same root. The “Mother of Solomon” is a fanciful “Kunyah,” or bye name given to the bird by the Bhang-eater, suggesting his high opinion of her wisdom.
241 Arab. “Nátúr,” prop. a watchman: also a land-mark, a bench-mark of tamped clay.
242 In text “Bartamán” for “Martaban” = a pot, jar, or barrel-shaped vessel: others apply the term to fine porcelain which poison cannot affect. See Col. Yule’s Glossary, s. v. Martabán, where the quotation from Ibn Batutah shows that the term was current in the xivth century. Linschoten (i. 101) writes, “In this town (Martaban of Pegu) many of the great earthen pots are made, which in India are called Martananas, and many of them are carried throughout all India of all sorts both small and great: and some are so great that they will fill two pipes of water.” Pyrard (i. 259) applies the name to “certain handsome jars, of finer shape and larger than I have seen elsewhere” (Transl. by ALBERT Gray for the Hakluyt Soc. 1887). Mr. Hill adds that at Málé the larger barrel-shaped jars of earthenware are still called “Mátabán,” and Mr. P. Brown (Zillah Dictionary, 1852) finds the word preserved upon the Madras coast = a black jar in which rice is imported from Pegu.
243 The Arabic here changes person, “he repeated” after Eastern Fashion, and confuses the tale to European readers.
244 Such treasure trove belonging to the State, i.e. the King.
245 Arab. “Húrí” for “Hír” = a pool, marsh, or quagmire, in fact corresponding with our vulgar “bogshop.” Dr. Steingass would read “Haurí,” a “mansúb” of “Haur” = pond, quagmire, which, in connection with a Hammam, may = sink, sewer, etc.
246 The Bedlam: see vol. i. 288.
247 Arab. “Tamtar aysh?” (i.e. Ayyu shayyin, see vol. i. 79). I may note that the vulgar abbreviation is of ancient date. Also the Egyptian dialect has borrowed, from its ancestor the Coptic, the practice of putting the interrogatory pronoun or adverb after (not before the verb, e.g. “Rá‘ih fayn?” = Wending (art thou) whither? It is regretable that Egyptian scholars do not see the absolute necessity of studying Coptic, and this default is the sole imperfection of the late Dr. Spitta Bey’s admirable Grammar of Egyptian.
248 Arab. “‘Arsah,” akin to “Mu’arris” (masc.) = a pimp, a pander. See vol. i. 338; and Supp. vol. i. 138; and for its use Pilgrimage i. 276.
249 i.e. Abú Kásim the Drummer. The word “Tambúr” is probably derived from “Tabl” = a drum, which became by the common change of liquids “Tabur” in O. French and “Tabour” in English. Hence the mod. form “Tambour,” which has been adopted by Turkey, e.g. Tambúrji = a drummer. In Egypt, however, “Tambúr” is applied to a manner of mandoline or guitar, mostly used by Greeks and other foreigners. See Lane, M.E. chap. xviii.
There was once, O King of the Age, a merchant and a man of Bassorah who went about trading with eunuchs and slave-boys and who bore his goods in bales250 from Bassorah to Ajam-land there to sell them and to buy him other merchandise for vending in Syria. On this wise he tarried a long while until one year of the years he packed up his property, as was his wont, and fared forth with it to Persia. But at that time there fortuned to be a famine and when he arrived at one of the cities of the Ajam-land, where formerly the traders bought his goods, on this occasion none of them would come near him. In such case he continued a long while till at last a Khwájah appeared before him, a man who owned abundant riches in Persia, but his home was distant three days from the place. The visitor asked saying, “O Bassorite, wilt thou sell me thy stock-in-trade?” whereto the other answered, “And how? Of course I’ll sell it!” So the buyer opened the gate of bidding and offered such-and-such; but the Bassorah man cried, “Allah openeth.” Then the purchaser added somewhat and the seller rejoined, “Give me yet more?” At last the buyer exclaimed, “I will give nothing more than ‘Anaught’;”251 and the seller accepted the offer saying, “May Allah grant us gain!” Thereupon the Persian Khwajah took over all the goods from the vendor and next day the twain met to settle money-matters. Now I, O King of the Age, happened to be abiding in that city. The seller received from the buyer payment in full nor did anything remain; but after, the Bassorah man said to his customer, “Thou still owest me the ‘Anaught,’ which thou must hand over to me.” The other replied jeeringly, “And the ‘Anaught’ is a naught; to wit, no thing;” but the Bassorite rejoined, “Here with that ‘Anaught’!” Upon this a violent ruffle befel between them, the cause was carried before the King and payment was required in the Divan, for the Bassorite still demanded from the purchaser his “Anaught.” The Sultan asked, “And what be this ‘Anaught’?” and the Bassorah man answered, “I wot not, O King of the Age;” and the Bassorah man answered, “I wot not, O King of the Age;” whereat the Sultan marvelled. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, and the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan marvelled at the action of this Bassorite and his saying, “Give me my ‘Anaught!’” Presently the tidings of that cause reached me, O King; so I went to the Divan which was thronged with folk and all present kept saying, “How would it be if this ‘Anaught’ were a fraud or a resiliation of the contract?” Thereupon the Sultan exclaimed, “Whoso shall settle this case, to him verily will I be bountiful.” So I came forward, O King of the Age, thinking of a conceit and kissed ground and said to him, “I will conclude this cause,” and he rejoined, “An thou determine it and dispose of it I will give thee largesse; but if not, I will strike off thy head.” I rejoined, “To hear is to obey.” Then I bade them bring a large basin which could hold a skinful of water and ordered them fill it; after which I called out to the Bassorite, “Draw near,” and he drew near. Then I cried to the claimant, “Close thy fist!” and he did accordingly, and again I commanded him to close it and to keep it tight closed. He obeyed my bidding and I continued “Dip thy neave into the basin,” and he dipped it. Presently I asked, “Is thy hand in the water and thy fist closed?” and he replied, “It is.” Then said I, “Withdraw it,” and he withdrew it, and I cried, “Open thy neave,” and he opened it. Then I asked, “What thing hast thou found therein?” and he answered, “Anaught;” whereupon I cried to him, “Take thine ‘Anaught’ and wend thy ways.” Hereupon the Sultan said to the Bassorite, “Hast thou taken thine ‘Anaught,’ O man?” and said he “Yes.” Accordingly the King bade him gang his gait. Then the Sultan gifted me with costly gifts and named me Kazi; and hence, O King of the Age, is the cause of the title in the case of one who erst was Abu Kasim the Drummer. Hereat quoth the Sultan, “Relate to us what rare accident befel thee in thy proper person.” SO the judge began to recount
Once upon a time, O King of the Age, I had a slipper which hardly belonged to its kind nor ever was there seen a bigger. Now one day of the days I waxed aweary of it and sware to myself that I would never wear it any more; so in mine anger I flung it away and it fortuned to fall upon the flat roof of a Khwájah’s house where the stucco was weakest. Thence it dropped through, striking a shelf that held a number of phials full of the purest rose-water and the boarding yielded breaking all the bottles and spilling their contents. The house-folk heard the breakage ringing and rattling; so they crowded one after other to discover what had done the damage and at last they found my papoosh sprawling amiddlemost the room. Then they made sure that the shelf had not been broken except by the violence of that slipper, and they examined it when, behold, the house-master cried, saying, “This be the papoosh of Abu Kasim the Drummer.” Hereupon he took it and carried it to the Governor who summoned me and set me before him; then he made me responsible for the phials and whatso was therein and for the repairing of the terrace-roof and upraising it again. And lastly he handed to me the slipper which was exceedingly long and broad and heavy and, being cruel old it showed upwards of an hundred and thirty patches nor was it unknown to any of the villagers. So I took it and fared forth and, being anangered with the article, I resolved to throw it into some dark hole or out-of-the-way place; — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Abu Kasim the Drummer continued to the Sultan; I resolved to throw it into some dark hole or out-of-the-way place; and presently I came to the watercloset of the Hammam and cast it into the conduit saying, “Now shall none ever see it again; nor shall I be troubled with its foul aspect for the rest of my life.” Then I returned home and abode there the first day and the second, but about noon on the third a party of the Governor’s men came and seized me and bore me before him; and no sooner did he see me than he cried out, “Throw him!” Accordingly they laid me out at fullest length and gave me an hundred cuts with a scourge252 which I bore stoutly and presently said, “O my Sultan,253 what be the cause of this fustigation and wherefor do they oppress me?” Said he, “O man, the conduit254 of the jakes attached to the Mosque was choked by thy slipper and the flow, unable to pass off, brimmed over, whereby sundry houses belonging to the folk were wrecked.”255 I replied, “O my lord, can a slipper estop the flowing of a water that feedeth a Hammam?” Thereupon the Governor said to me, “Take it away and if any find it in his place and again bring me a complaint thereanent, I will cut off thy head.” So they haled me away after tossing my slipper to me, and I repaired to the Efendi256 of the town and said to him, “O our lord, I have a complaint against this Papoosh which is not my property nor am I its owner: prithee do thou write me a deed to such purport between me and the Slipper and all who pass down this road.” The Efendi replied, “O man, how shall I write thee a deed between thee and thy Papoosh, which is a senseless thing? Nay, take it thyself and cut it up and cast it into some place avoided of the folk.” Accordingly I seized it and hacked it with a hatchet into four pieces which I threw down in the four corners of the city, saying to myself the while, “By Allah, I shall nevermore in my life hear any further of its adventures;” and walked away barefoot. But I had thrown one bit under a bridge that crossed a certain of the small canals; and the season was the dries, wherefore it collected a heap of sand which rose thereupon, and raised the pile higher until the archway was blocked up by a mound. Now when the Níl257 flooded and reached that archway the water was dammed up and ceased running so the townsfolk said, “What may be the matter? The Nile-inundation hath reached the bridge but cannot pass under it. Come let us inspect the archway.” They did so and presently discovered the obstacle; to wit, the mound before the arch which obstructed the waterway; whereupon a party kilted their clothes and waded into the channel that they might clear it. But when they came to the mound-base they found my quarter-slipper, and they exclaimed with one cry, “This be the Papoosh of Abu Kasim the Drummer!” But as soon as the tidings reached me, I fared away, flying from that town, and while so doing was met by a comrade, yonder Bhang-eater; so we agreed that we would travel together and he companied me till we came to this city, e’en as thou seest us, O our lord the Sultan. Thereupon the King said to them, “Do ye twain abide with me amongst my servants; but I have a condition with you which is that ye be righteous in your service and that ye be ready to join my séance every night after supper-tide.” Then he cautioned them against disobedience and quoth he, “Be ye not deluded by becoming my companions nor say to yourselves, We be the assessors of the King; for that the byword declareth: Whenas the King sitteth beware of his severity, and be not refractory whenever he shall say to thee ‘Do.’” They agreed to this condition and each whispered his mate, “Do thou have a care to act righteously!” Then they left the King nor did they see him again till one day of the days when behold, a Khwajah appeared before the Sultan. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that one day of the days, behold a Khwajah appeared before the Sultan and said, “’Tis not lawful in Allah’s sight, O King of the Age, that a Bhang-eater should propose to dishonour me in the person of my daughter and load me with infamy amongst His worshippers saying the while, “I am of the King’s suite.’” Now the cause of the merchant’s complaint was as follows. One day of the days the Bhang-eater was passing by under the latticed window of the Khwajah’s home when by decree of the Decreer, the daughter of the house was looking out at the casement and was solacing herself by observing all who walked the street. Perchance the Bhang-eater’s glance fell upon the maiden and that sight of eyes entailed a thousand sighs, so he said to himself, “By Allah, if I meet not this maiden, although it be only once, I shall die of a broken heart nor shall any one know of my death.” He then took to passing under the window every day and to gazing upwards and to tarrying there from morning-tide to set of sun; but the more he looked the less he saw of her because Fortune which was fair to him the first time had now turned foul. So he continued in this condition for a while, coming every day to look at the lattice and seeing naught. Presently his case became strait and ill health entered his frame for love to the merchant’s daughter; and by reason of its excess he betook himself to his pillow turning and tossing right and left and crying, “O her eyes! O her loveliness! O her stature! O her symmetrical grace!” But as he was repeating these words behold, an old woman came in to him and, seeing his concern and chagrin, accosted him and said, “No harm to thee!” Quoth he, “Ah, my reverend mother, unless thou come to my aid I perish,” and quoth she, “What is upon thy mind? So he disclosed to her all he felt of fondness and affection for the Khwajah’s daughter and she rejoined. “Thou wilt never win to thy wish in this matter except through me.” Then she left him and repaired to her own place, pondering the wiles of women, till she entered her house and there she donned a woolen robe and hung three rosaries around her neck, after which she hent a palm-staff in hand and set out for the merchant’s quarters. She ceased not walking till she reached the place and entered in her garb of a religious mendicant258 crying out, “Allah, there is no god but the God! extolled be Allah! Allah be with you all!” When the girl, whose name was Sitt al-Husn — the Lady of Beauty — heard these words she met her, hoping for a blessing, and saying, “O my mother, pray for me!” and the old woman responded, “The name of Allah be upon thee! Allah be thy safeguard!”259 Then she sat down and the damsel came and took seat beside her; so likewise did the girl’s mother and both sought a blessing from her and conversed together till about noon when she arose and made the Wuzú-ablution and span out her prayers, whilst those present exclaimed, “By Allah this be a pious woman!” When her orisons were ended they served up dinner to her; but she said, “I’m fasting;” whereat they increased in love and belief herwards and insisted upon her abiding with them until sunset that she might break her fast within their walls. ON such wise she acted but it was all a fraud. Then they persisted in keeping her for the night; so she nighted with them, and when it was morn she arose and prayed and mumbled words, some intelligible and others not to be understanded of any, while the household gazed upon her and, whenever she would move from place to place, supported her with their hands under her armpits. At last, when it was mid-forenoon she fared forth from them albeit their intent was not to let her depart. But early on the next day she came in to them and all met her with greetings and friendly reception, kissing her hands and bussing her feet; so she did as she had done on the first day and in like guise on the third while they showed her increased honour and worship. On the fourth day she came to them, as was her wont, and they prayed her be seated; however she refused and said, “I have a daughter whom I am about to marry and the bridal festivities will be in my house; but I come to you at this hour to let you know my desire that Sitt al-Husn may accompany me and be present at my girl’s wedding-feast and thus she will gain a blessing.” Her mother replied, “We dread lest somewhat befal her,” but the ancient woman rejoined, “Fear not for her as the Hallows260 are with her!” Thereupon cried the girl, “There is no help but that I accompany her and be present at her daughter’s wedding ceremony and enjoy the spectacle and take my pleasure.” The mother said, “’Tis well;” and the old trot added, “I will go and return within this moment.” So saying, she went off as one aweary to the house of the Bhang-eater and told him what she had done; then she returned to the maiden whom she found drest and decorated and looking her best. So she took the girl and fared forth with her. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the ancient woman took the girl and fared forth with her and led her to the Bhang-eater’s house and brought her in to him who, seeing her in all her beauty and loveliness, arose forthright and his wits fled him and he drew near to her of his excessive love herwards. Therewith the “Lady of Beauty” understood that the old woman was an accursed procuress who had beguiled her in order to bring her and the man together. So of her cleverness and clear intelligence she said to her lover, “O my brave, whoso expecteth a visit of his beloved getteth ready somewhat of meat and somewhat of fruit and somewhat of wine, that their pleasure may be perfected; and, if thou purpose love-liesse we will pass the night in this place.” Quoth the Bhang-eater, “By Allah, O my lady, thou speakest sooth but what shall we do at such hour as this?” and quoth she, “Hie thee to the market-street and bring all whereof I spoke.” Said he, “Hearkening and obedience,” and said she, “I will sit down, I and this my mother in this place, the while thou goest and comest.” He rejoined, “A sensible saying!” and forthright he was right gladsome nor knew what was prepared for him in the hidden future. Now as soon as he went the damsel arose and without making aught of noise locked the door closely upon herself and the old trot: then she wandered about the rooms and presently came upon a butcher’s chopper261 which she seized. Hereupon tucking up her sleeves above her elbows, in the firmness of her heart she drew near the old crone until she was hard by her right and so clove her skull asunder that she fell weltering in her blood and her ghost fled her flesh. After this the damsel again went about the house and all worth the taking she took, leaving whatso was unworthy, till she had collected a number of fine robes which the man had brought together after he had become a cup-companion of the Sultan; and, lastly, she packed the whole in a sheet262 and went forth therewith. Now the season was morning but The Veiler veiled her and none met her on the way until she reached her home and saying, “By Allah, to-day my girl hath tarried long at the bridal festivities of the Ascetic’s daughter.” And behold Sitt al-Husn came in to her carrying a large sheet stuffed with raiment, and as her mother saw her agitated and in disorder she questioned her of her case and of what was packed in the bundle. But the girl, who returned no reply and could not speak one syllable for the emotion caused by the slaughter of the ancient woman, fell to the ground in a fit. Her swoon endured from noon until eventide, her mother sitting at her head the while and sorrowing for her condition. But about set of sun behold, in came her father who found his daughter aswoon; so he questioned his wife who began by recounting to him what they had noted in the old woman of prayer and display of devotion and how she had told them, “I have a daughter whom I am about to marry and the bridal festivities will be in my house.” “And,” pursued the mother, “she invited us to visit her; so at undurntide I sent with her the girl; who at noontide came back bringing somewhat wrapped up and bundled, which be this. But when she entered the house she fell to the floor in a fainting fit and she is even as thou seest; nor do I know what befel her.” Then the father rose up and besprinkled somewhat of water upon her face which revived her and she said, “Where am I?” whereto said he, “Thou art with us.” And when she had recovered and returned to her senses, and her condition was as before the swoon, she told them of the old woman and her ill designs and of her death and lastly how the clothes had been brought by herself from the house of the Bhang-eater. As soon as her sire had heard her words, he set out from his home and sought the Sultan. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that whilst the Sultan was sitting behold, the Khwajah came in and complained to him of the Bhang-eater, whereupon he ordered a company to go fetch the accursed and they went off and found him not. So they returned and reported accordingly. Such was the cause of the Khwajah coming to the King and such was the case with them; but as regards the Bhang-eater, when he went off rejoicing to the Bazar in order to buy whatso the merchant’s daughter had asked him, he brought many a thing wherewith he returned to his lodging. However as he returned he beheld the old woman slaughtered and weltering in her blood and he found nothing at all of the choice articles wherewith his house was fulfilled; so he fell to quoting this couplet:263—
“’Twas as a hive of bees that greatly thrived;
But, when the bee-swarm fled, ’twas clean unhived.”
And when he beheld that condition of things he turned from his home in haste and without stay or delay left it about the hour of mid-afternoon and fared forth from the city. There he found a caravan bound to some bourne or other, so he proceeded therewith hardly believing in his own safety and he ceased not accompanying the Cafilah264 for the space of five days till it made the city the travellers sought, albeit he was fatigued and footsore from the stress of hardships and weariness he had endured. So he entered the place and wandered about until he found a Khan wherein he hired him a cell by way of nighting-stead and every day he would go forth to seek service for wages whereby he might make a livelihood. Now one day of the days a woman met him face to face on the highway and said to him, “Dost thou do service?” and said he, “Indeed I do, O my lady.” She continued, “There is a wall about my place which I desire to level and build another in lieu thereof for that ’tis old and very old.” He replied to her, “’Tis well,” and she took him and repaired with him to her house and showing him the wall in question handed to him a pickaxe and said, “Break it down as much as thou art able be it for two or three days, and heap up the stones in one place and the dried mud in another.” He replied, “Hearkening and obedience;” after which she brought to him somewhat of food and of water and he ate and drank and praised Almighty Allah. After this he rose and began breaking down the wall and he ceased not working and piling up the stones and the dried mud until it was sunset time when the woman paid him to his wage ten faddahs and added a something of food which he took and turned towards his own cell. As soon as it was the second day he repaired to the house of the woman who again gave him somewhat to break his fast and he fell to felling the wall even as he had done on the first day and he worked till noon; but when it was midday and all the household was asleep, lo and behold! he found in the middle of the foundation a crock265 full of gold. So he opened it and considered its contents whereat he was rejoiced and he went forth without leisure or loss of time seeking his own cell and when he reached it he locked himself within for fear lest any look upon him. Then he opened the crock and counted therein one hundred dinars which he pouched in his purse and stowed away in his breast-pocket. Presently he returned, as he was, to break down the rest of the wall and whilst he was trudging along the highway suddenly he sighted a box surrounded by a crowd of whom none knew what might be its contents and its owner was crying out, “For an hundred gold pieces!” Thereupon the Bhang-eater went forwards saying to himself, “Buy thee yonder box for the hundred dinars and thy luck be thy lot, for it there be inside of it aught of wonderful ’tis well, and if otherwise thou shalt stand by thy bad bargain.” So he drew near the broker266 and said to him, “This box for how much?”267 and the other answered, “For an hundred gold dinars!” But when he questioned him as to its contents the man replied, “I know not; whoso taketh it his luck be his lot.” Thereupon he brought out to him the hundred ducats and the broker made over to him the box which he charged upon his shoulders and carried off to his cell. There arrived he bolted himself in and opened the coffer wherein he found a white slave-girl which was a model of beauty and loveliness and stature and perfect grace: but she was like one drunken with wine. So he shook her but she was not aroused when he said to himself, “What may be the story of this handmaiden?” and he was never tired of looking upon her while she was in that condition and he kept saying to himself, “Would Heaven I wot and she be on life or in death; withal I see her breath coming and going.” Now when it was about midnight, the handmaiden revived and looking around and about her, cried, “Where am I?” and said the Bhang-eater, “Thou, O my lady, art in my home;” whereby she understood what had befallen her. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deed fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the handmaiden understood what had befallen her at the hands of her enemies. Now the cause thereof was that the Sultan of that city had bought him for concubine one Kút al-Kulúb,268 or Heart’s -food hight, and she became to him the liefest of all the women he before had, amongst whom his wife, the daughter of his uncle, had bee preferred; but all fell into the rank of the common and from the time he bought the new handmaid he was wholly occupied with her love and he never went near the other inmates of his Harem, not even his cousin. So they were filled with exceeding jealousy against Heart’s -food the new comer. Now one day of the days the Sultan went forth to hunt and bird and enjoy the occasion and solace himself in the gardens together with the Lords of his land, and they rode on till they found themselves amiddlemost of the waste pursuing their quarry. But when two days had passed, his wife together with the women which were concubines arose and invited all the neighbourhood whereamong was Kut al-Kulub, and she spread for them a sumptuous banquet and lavished upon the new comers all manner of attentions and the wife began to play with her rival and to disport with her until it was thought that she loved none in the assembly save Heart’s -food; and on such wise she continued to cheer her and solace her and gambol with her and make her laugh until the trays were laid and the meats were dispread and all the guests came forward and fell to eating and drinking. Thereupon the King’s cousin-wife brought a plate seasoned with Bhang and set it before the concubine who had no sooner eaten it and it had settled in her stomach than she trembled as with sudden palsy and fell to the ground without power of motion. Then the Queen bade place her in a box and having locked her therein sent for one who was Skaykh of the Brokers and committed to him the coffer saying, “Do thou sell it for an hundred gold pieces whilst it is locked and fast locked and suffer not any open it, otherwise we will work for the cutting off of thy hands.” He replied, “To hear is to obey;” and took up the box and went with it to the market-street where he said to the brokers, “Cry for sale this coffer at an hundred dinars and if any attempt to open it, open it not to any by any manner of means.” So they took their station and made auction of it for an hundred gold pieces, when by the decree of Destiny the Bhang-eater passed down the street exulting in his hundred dinars which he had found in the crock while levelling the wall belonging to the woman. Thereupon he came up and having paid the price required carried off his coffer saying in his mind, “My luck is my livelihood.” After this he went to his own cell and opened it and found there the handmaid in condition as though drunken with wine. Such is the history of that concubine Kut al-Kulub and she fell not into the hand of the Bhang-eater save by the wile and guile of the Sultan’s cousin-wife. But when she recovered from her fainting fit and gazed around and understood what had befallen her she concealed her secret and said to the man, “Verily this thy cell becometh us not;” and, as she had somewhat of gold pieces with her and a collar of jewels around her neck worth a thousand dinars, she brought out for him some money and sent him forth to hire for them a house in the middle of the quarter beffiting great folk and when this was done she had herself transported thither. Then she would give him every day spending-money to buy whatso she ever required and she would cook the delicatest dishes fit for the eating of the Kings wherewith she fed herself and her owner. This continued for twenty days when suddenly the Sultan returned from his hunting party and as soon as he entered his palace he asked for Kut al-Kulub. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that as soon as the Sultan returned from the chase he asked after Kut al-Kuluh from his exceeding desire to her, and the daughter of his uncle told him the tidings saying, “By Allah, O King of the Age, three days after thou faredst forth there came upon her malaise and malady wherein she abode six days and then she deceased to the mercy of Almighty Allah.” He exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily we are the Almighty’s and unto Him shall we return.” Then befel him the extreme of grief and straitness of breast and he passed that night in exceeding cark and care for Kut al-Kulub. And when it was morning he sent after the Wazir and summoned him between his hands and bade him go forth to the Tigris-bank and there approve some place whereon he might build a palace which should command all roads. The Minister replied, “Hearkening and obeying;” and hied to do his lord’s bidding taking with him architects269 and others, and having found a piece of level ground he ordered them to measure an hundred ells of length for the building by a breadth of seventy cubits. Presently he sent for surveyors and master-masons whom he commanded to make ready every requisite for the work, of ashlar and lime and lead; also to dig trenches for the base of the walls. Then they fell to laying the foundations, and the builders and handicraftsmen began to pile the stones and prepare the loads while the Wazir stood by them bidding and forbidding. Now when it was the third day, the Sultan went forth the Palace to look at the masons and artizans who were working at the foundations of his new edifice. And as soon as he had inspected it, it pleased him, so he said to the Wazir, “Walláhi! none would befit this palace save and except Kut al-Kulub, when ’twould have been full of significance;” and so saying he wept with sore weeping at the remembrance of her. Quoth the Wazir to him, “O King of the Age, have patience when calamity afflicteth thee, even as said one of them with much meaning, anent long-suffering:—
‘Be patient under weight of wrath and blow of sore calamities:
The Nights compressed by Time’s embrace gravidœ miras gerunt res.’”270
Then quoth the Sultan, “’Tis well, O Wazir, I know that patience is praiseworthy and fretfulness is blameworthy, for indeed quoth the poet:—
When Time shall turn on thee, have patience for ’tis best of plight:
Ease shall pursue unease and naught but suffrance make it light;’
and by Allah, O Wazir, human nature is never free from sad thought and remembrance. Verily that damsel pleased me and I delighted in her; nor can I ever think to find one like her in beauty and loveliness.” Thereupon the Wazir fell to guiding the Sultan with fair words until his breast was broadened and the two began to solace themselves by inspecting the masons. After this the Sultan would go forth every morning for solace to Tigris-bank and tidings reached the ears of Kut al-Kulub that her lord was engaged on building a riverine palace, whereupon she said to the Bhang-eater, “Day by day we expend money upon our condition, and our outgoing is without incoming, so ’twere but right that each morning thou fare and work with the workmen who are edifying a mansion for the Sultan, inasmuch as the folk declare that he is of temper mild and merciful and haply thou shalt gain from him profit and provision.” “O my lady,” he replied, “by Allah, I have no patience to part with thee or to be far from thee;” and he said so because he loved her and she loved him, for that since the time he had found her locked in the box and had looked upon her he had never required of her her person and this was indeed from his remembrance, for he bore in mind but too well what had befallen him from the Khwajah’s daughter. And she on her side used to say, “’Tis a wondrous thing that yon Bhang-eater never asketh me aught nor draweth nigh me seeing that I be a captive of his right hand.” So she said to him, “Assuredly thou dost love me?” and said he, “How can it be otherwise when thou art the blood of my life and the light of mine eyes?” “O light of mine eyes,” she replied, “take this necklace and set it in thy breast-pocket and go work at the Sultan’s palace, and as often as thou shalt think of me, do thou take it out and consider it and smell it and it shall be as if thou wert to see me.” Hearing this he obeyed her and went forth till he reached the palace where he found the builders at work and the Sultan and the Wazir sitting in a Kiosk hard by overseeing the masons and the workmen; — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deed fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Bhang-eater joined the masons he saw the Sultan and Wazir overseeing them; and, as soon as the King sighted him, he opened his breast to him and said, “O man, wilt thou also do work?” and said the other, “Yes.” So he bade him labour with the builders and he continued toiling till hard upon noon-tide, at which time he remembered his slave-girl and forthright he bowed his head upon his bosom-pocket and he sniffed thereat. The Wazir saw him so doing and asked him, “What is the meaning of thy sniffing at what is in thy poke?” and he answered him, “No matter.” However the Minister espied him a second time occupied in like guise and quoth he to the Sultan, “Look, O King of the Age, at yon labourer who is hiding something in his pocket and smelling thereat.” “Haply,” responded the Sovran, “there is in his pouch something he would look at.” However when the Sultan’s glance happened to fall that way he beheld the Bhang-eater sniffing and smelling at his poke, so he said to the Wazir, “Walláhi! Verily this workman’s case is a strange.” Hereupon both fixed their eyes upon him and they saw him again hiding somewhat in his pouch and smelling at it. The Wazir cried, “Verily this fellow is a-fizzling and he boweth his head toward his breast in order that he may savour his own farts.”271 The Sultan laughed and said, “By Allah, if he do on this wise ’tis a somewhat curious matter, or perhaps, O Wazir, he have some cause to account for it; at any rate do thou call out to him and ask him.” So the Wazir arose and drawing near to him asked him saying, “Ho, this one!272 every time thou fizzlest thou smellest and sniffest at thy fizzlings;” whereto answered the workman, “Wag not thy tongue with these words seeing thou art in the presence of a King glorious of degree.” Quoth the Minister, “What is the matter with thee in this case that thou art sniffing at thy pocket?” and quoth the labourer, “Verily my beloved is in my pouch.” The Wazir wondered hereat and reported the same to the Sultan who cried, “Return to him and say, ‘Is it possible that thou display to us thy beloved who is in thy breast-pocket?’” So he returned to him and said, “Show us what there is in thy pouch.” Now the origin of this necklace was that the King had bought it for Kut al-Kulub at the price of a thousand dinars and the damsel had given it to the Bhang-eater with the sole object that the Sultan might look upon it and thereby be directed unto her and might learn the reason of her disappearance and her severance from him. Hereupon the man brought out to them the necklace from his breastpocket and the Sultan on seeing it at once recognised it and wondered how it had fallen into the hands of that workman; accordingly he asked who was its owner and the other answered, “It belongeth to the handmaid whom I bought with an hundred dinars.” Quoth the Sultan to him, “Is it possible273 thou invite us to thy quarters that we may look upon this damsel;” and quoth the other, “Would you look upon my slave-girl and not be ashamed of yourselves? However I will consult her, and if she be satisfied therewith we will invite you.” They said to him, “This be a rede that is right and an affair which no blame can excite.” When the day had reached its term the masons and workmen were dismissed after they had taken their wage; but as for the Bhang-eater the Sultan gave him two gold pieces and set him free about sunset tide; so he fared to his handmaid and informed her of what had befallen him from the King, adding, “He hath indeed looked upon the necklace and hath asked me to invite him hither as well as the Wazir.” Quoth she, “No harm in that; but to-morrow (Inshallah!) do thou bring all we require for a state occasion of meats and drinks, and let me have them here by noon-tide, so they may eat the early meal. But when he shall ask to buy me of thee compose thy mind and say thou, ‘No,’ when he will reply to thee, ‘Give me this damsel in free gift.’ Hereat do thou say, ‘She is a present from me to thee’; because indeed I am his slave and bought with his money for one thousand and five hundred dinars; and thou hadst never become my lord save through my foes who devised a device against me and who sold me when thou boughtest me. However the hour of thy prosperity hath now come.” And when morning morrowed she gave him five gold pieces and said to him, “Bring for me things that be such and such,” and said he, “Hearing and obedience.” So he went to the market-street where he purchased all the supplies wherewith she had charged him and returned to her forthright. Hereupon she arose and tucking up her sleeves prepared meats that befitted the King and likewise she got ready comfits and the daintiest of dainties and sherbets and she tempered the pastilles and she besprinkled the room with rosewater and looked to the furniture of the place. About midday she sent to the Sultan and the Wazir with notice that she was ready; so the Bhang-eater repaired to the Palace and having gone in to the presence said, “Have the kindness!”274 The twain arose without more ado and hied with him privily till they reached his house and entered therein. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan and the Wazir entered the place wherein were the Bhang-eater and the damsel, and took their seats. Now the meats were ready and they served up to them the trays and the dishes, when they fell to and were cheered by the sumptuous viands until they had eaten after the measure of their sufficiency. And when their hands were washed, the confections and sherbet and coffee were set before them, so they ate and were satisfied and gladdened and made merry. After this quoth the Sultan to the Bhang-eater, “Where is the damsel?” and quoth the man, “She is here,” whereat he was commanded to bring her. Accordingly he went off and led her in and as soon as the King sighted her he recognised her and ordered her owner to make her over to him and said when he did so, “O man, wilt thou sell to me this damsel?” But the other kissed ground before him and replied, “O King of the Age, she is from me a free gift to thee;” and quoth the Sultan, “She is accepted from thee, O Shaykh, and do thou come and bring her thyself to the Palace about sundown-time.” He replied, “To hear is to obey.” And at the hour named he took the damsel and ceased not faring with her till he brought her to the Serai,275 where the Eunuchry met her and took her and carried her in to the Sultan. But as soon as she entered she nestled in his bosom and he threw his arms round her neck and kissed her of his excessive desire to her. Then he asked her saying, “This man who purchased thee, hath he any time approached thee?” whereto she answered, “By Allah, O King, from the time he bought me in the box which he opened and found me alive therein until this present never hath he looked upon my face, and as often as I addressed him he would bow his brow earthwards.” Quoth the Sultan, “By Allah, this wight deserveth an aidance for that he paid down for thee an hundred dinars and he hath presented thee in free gift to me.” Now when morrowed the morning the King sent after the Bhang-eater and summoned him between his hands and bestowed upon him one thousand five hundred dinars with a suit of royal raiment, after which he presented to him, by way of honourable robe,276 a white slave-girl. He also set apart for him an apartment and made him one of his boon companions. So look thou, O hearer,277 how it happened to this Bhang-eater from the Khwajah’s daughter and his love herwards; how he failed to win her and how he gained of blows whatso he gained; and after what prosperity befel him from the part of Kut al-Kulub. And ever afterwards when the Sultan would ride out for disport or for the hunt and chase he would take the man with him. Presently of the perfection of his prosperity this Bhang-eater fully mastered the affairs of the kingdom, both its income and its outgo, and his knowledge embraced all the regions and cities which were under the rule of his lord. Furthermore, whenever he would counsel the King, his advice was found to be in place and he was consulted upon all State affairs, and whenever he heard of any business he understood its inner as well as its outer meaning until the Sultan and the Wazir both sought rede of him, and he would point out to them the right and unright, and that which entaileth trouble and no trouble, when they could fend it off and overthrow it or by word or by deed of hand. Now one day of the many days the King was in a certain of his gardens a-solacing himself with the sights when his heart and stomach became full of pain and he fell ill and his illness grew upon him, nor did he last four days ere he departed to the mercy of Allah Almighty. As he had no issue, either son or daughter, the country remained without a King for three days, when the Lords of the land for-gathered and agreed upon a decision, all and some, that they would have no King or Sultan save the Wazir and that the man the Bhang-eater should be made Chief Councillor. So they agreed upon this matter and their words went forth to the Minister who at once took office. After this he gave general satisfaction and lavished alms on the mean and miserable, also on satisfaction and lavished alms on the mean and miserable, also on the widows and orphans, when his fame was bruited abroad and it dispread far and wide till men entitled him the “Just Wazir” and in such case he governed for a while of time. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Wazir governed for a while of time with all justice of rule so that the caravans spread abroad the name and fame of him throughout every city and all the countries. Presently there befel him an affair between two women which were sister-wives to one man.278 Now these had conceived by him in the same month and when the time of their pregnancy had passed, the twain were delivered in the same place at the same hour and the midwife was one and the same. One brought forth a babe but it was a daughter which incontinently died and the other a man-child who lived. The women quarrelled and fought about the boy-babe and both of them said, “This is my child;” and there befel between them exceeding contention and excessive hostility. So they carried their cause before the divines and the Olema and the head men of the place, yet did none of them know how to decide between the twain and not a few of the folk said, “Let each woman take the child to her for a month,” whilst others declared that they might keep it between them at all times, whilst of the women one said, “’Tis well: this be my boy!” and the other declared, “’Tis well, this be my son!” nor could any point out to which of the women the boy belonged. So the town’s people were gathered together and said, “None can determine this dispute except the Just Wazir;” and they agreed upon this, so that the husband of the two women and sundry of his associates arose and took the twain of them and travelled with them to hear the Minister’s judgment. Also the Olema and the great men of the place declared “By Allah, we also needs must travel with the party and produce the two women and be present at the Just Wazir’s judgment.” So they all assembled and followed after the two adversaries, nor did they cease travelling until they entered the city where the Minister abode. There they delayed for rest during one day and on the second they all joined one another and went in to the Wazir and recounted to him the case of the two women. Hearing this he bowed his brow groundwards and presently raising it he cried, “Bring me two eggs and void them of their contents and see that the shells be clean empty.” Then he commanded that each of the women drain somewhat of milk from her nipple into the egg-shell till she had filled it. They did accordingly and set before him the egg-shells brimful when he said, “Bring me a pair of scales.”279 After this he placed both eggs in the balance-pan and raising it aloft from its rounded stead perceived that one was weighty and the other was light. Quoth he, “The milk of the woman in this egg is the heavier and she is the mother of the boy-babe whereas the other bare the girl-child and we know not an it be alive or dead.” Hereat the true mother of the boy held her peace but the other wailed aloud and said, “’Tis well: still this be my babe!” Thereupon quoth the Wazir, “I am about to take the boy and hew him in halves whereof I will give one to each of you twain.” But the true mother arose and cried out, “No! O my lord, do not on this wise: I will forfeit my claim for Allah’s sake;” while the other one exclaimed, “All this is right good!” Now all the folk of the city who were then standing by heard these words and looked on; but when this order was pronounced and the woman was satisfied and declared, “I will take half the boy,” the Wazir gave orders forthright that they seize her and hang her; so they hanged her and he gave the babe to the right mother. Then said they to him, “O our lord, how was it proved to thee that the boy was the child of this one?” and he said, “It became evident to me from two sides; in the first place because her milk was the heavier, so that I knew that the boy was her boy, and secondly when I commanded, ‘Let us cut the boy in half,’ the real mother consented not to this and the matter was hard upon her because the child was a slice of her liver, and she said to herself, ‘His life is better than his death, even though my sister-wife take him, at any rate I shall be able to look upon him.’ But the second woman designed only to gratify her spite whether the boy died or not and to harm her sister-wife; so when I saw that she was contented to have the babe killed, I knew that it was right to do her die.” Then all who were present of the Lords of the land and the Olema and divines and notables wondered at the judgment and exclaimed, “By Allah, well done,280 O Wazir of the realm.” Now this history of the Minister’s perspicacity and penetration was spread abroad and all folk went from his presence and everyone who had wives that had borne girls took somewhat of milk from the women and went to each and every of those who had borne boys and took from them milk in the same quantity as the Wazir had taken, and weighted it in the scales, when they found that the mothers of males produced milk that was not equal to, nay it weighed two-fold that of those who bare girls. Hereupon they said, “It is not right that we call this Minister only the Just Wazir;” and all were agreed that he should be titled “The Wazir-wise-in-Allah-Almighty;”281 and the reason whereof was the judgment which he passed in the cause between the two women. Now after this it befel him to deliver a decision more wondrous than the former. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that to the Wazir-wise-in-Almighty-Allah there befel between his hands a strange matter which was as follows. As he was sitting one day of the days there came in to him unexpectedly two men, of whom one led a cow and a little colt whilst the second had with him a mare and a little calf. Now the first who came forward was the owner of the mare and quoth he, “O my lord, I have a claim upon this man.” Quoth the Minister, “What be thy claim?” And the plaintiff continued, “I was going a-morn to the meadow for pasture and with me was my mare followed by her young one, her little colt, when yonder man met me upon the road and the colt began to play and to throw up gravel with its hoofs as is the wont of horse-flesh and draw near to the cow. Hereupon this man came up and seized it and said, ‘This colt is the offspring of my cow,’ and so saying he took it away and he gave me his calf, crying, ‘Take this which be the issue of thy mare.’” So the Wazir turning to the master of the cow asked, “O man, what sayest thou concerning what thy comrade hath spoken?” and the other answered, “O my lord, in very deed this colt is the produce of my cow and I brought it up by hand.” Quoth the Wazir, “Is it right that black cattle should bring forth horses and that horses should bear cows? indeed the intelligence of an intelligent man may not compass this;” and quoth the other, “O my lord, Allah createth whatso He willeth and maketh kine to produce horses and horses to produce kine.” Hereupon the Minister said to him, “O Shaykh, when thou seest a thing before thee and lookest thereon canst thou speak of it in the way of truth?” And the other assented. Then the Wazir continued addressing the two men, “Wend your ways at this time and on the morrow be present here at early morn and let it be at a vacant hour.” Accordingly they forthright went forth, and the next day early the two men came to the divan of the Wazir who set before them a she-mouse he had provided and called for a sack which he filled with earth. And as the men stood between his hands he said, “Wait ye patiently without speaking a word;” so they held their peace and presently he bade them set the sack and the mouse before him and he ordered the men to load the sack upon the mouse. Both cried, “O our lord, ’tis impossible that a mouse can carry a sack full of earth,” when he answered, “How then can a cow bear a colt? and when a mouse shall be able to bear a sack then shall a cow bear a colt.” All this and the Sultan was looking out at the latticed window listening and gazing. Hereupon the Wazir gave an order that the master of the mare take her colt and the master of the cow carry off her calf; after which he bade them go about their business. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan, whose Minister was the Wazir-wise-in-Allah-Almighty, on a certain day summoned his Chief Councillor and when he came said to him, “Verily my breast is straitened and I am beset by unease, so I desire to hear something which may broaden my bosom;” and said the other, “O King of the age, by Allah, I have a friend who is named Mahmud the ‘Ajami and that man is a choice spirit and he hath all kind of rare tales and strange anecdotes and wondrous histories and marvellous adventures.” Said the Sultan, “There is no help but that thou summon him to us hither and let us hear from him somewhat.” So the Wazir sent after the Persian and when the man stood in the presence said to him, “Verily the Sultan hath summoned thee.” He replied, “Hearing and obeying,” when he was taken and set before the Sovran and as he entered he saluted him with the salams of the Caliphs and blessed him and prayed for him.282 The King returned his greeting and after seating him said to him, “O Mahamud, at this moment my breast is indeed straitened and I have heard of thee that thou hast a store of rare stories which I would that thou cause me hear283 and let it be somewhat sweet of speech which shall banish my cark and my care and the straitness of my breast.” Hereto the other replied, “Hearing and obeying;” and began to relate the
252 Arab. “Kurbáj” = cravache: vol. viii. 17. The best are made of hippopotamus-hide (imported from East Africa), boiled and hammered into a round form and tapering to the point. Plied by a strong arm they cut like a knout.
253 The text “Yá Sultán-am,” a Persian or Turkish form for the Arab. “Yá Sultán-i.”
254 In text “Kalb” for “Kulbat” = a cave, a cavern.
255 The houses were of unbaked brick or cob, which readily melts away in rain and requires annual repairing at the base of the walls where affected by rain and dew. In Sind the damp of the earth with its nitrous humour eats away the foundations and soon crumbles them to dust.
256 Here meaning the under-Governor or head Clerk.
257 “Níl” (= the Nile), in vulgar Egyptian parlance the word is = “high Nile,” or the Nile in flood.
258 Arab. “Darwayshsah” = a she-Fakír, which in Europe would be represented by that prime pest a begging nun.
259 Arab. “Allah háfiz-ik” = the popular Persian expression, “Khudá Háfiz!”
260 Arab. “Sálihin” = the Saints, the Holy Ones.
261 Arab. “Sharkh” = in dicts. the unpolished blade of a hiltless sword.
262 In the text “Miláyah,” a cotton stuff some 6 feet long, woven in small chequers of white and indigo-blue with an ending of red at either extremity. Men wrap it round the body or throw it over the shoulder like our plaid, whose colours I believe are a survival of the old body-paintings, Pictish and others. The woman’s “Miláyah” worn only out of doors may be of silk or cotton: it is made of two pieces which are sewed together lengthwise and these cover head and body like a hooded cloak. Lane figures it in M.E. chapt. i. When a woman is too poor to own a “Miláyah” or a “Habarah” (a similar article) she will use a bed-sheet for out-of-doors work.
263 The pun here is “Khalíyát” = bee-hive and empty: See vols. vi. 246 ix. 291. It will occur again in Supplementary vol. v. Night DCXLVI.
264 i.e. Caravan, the common Eastern term. In India it was used for a fleet of merchantmen under convoy: see Col. Yule, Glossary, s. v.
265 Again “Bartamán” for “Martabán.”
266 The “Sáhib” = owner, and the “Dallál” = broker, are evidently the same person.
267 “Alà kám” for “kam” (how much?)— peasants’ speech.
268 She has appeared already twice in The Nights, esp. in The Tale of Ghánim bin ‘Ayyúb (vol. ii. 45) and in Khalifah the Fisherman of Baghdad (vol. viii. 145). I must again warn my readers nto to confound “Kút” = food with “Kuwwat” = force, as in Scott’s “Koout al Koolloob” (vi. 146). See Terminal Essay p. 101.
269 In text “Mu’ammarjiyah” (master-masons), a vulgar Egyptianism for “Mu’ammarin.” See “Jáwashiyah,” vols. ii. 49; viii. 330. In the third line below we find “Muhandizín” = gemoetricians, architects, for “Muhandísm.” [Perhaps a reminiscence of the Persian origin of the word “Handasah” = geometry, which is derived from “Andázah” = measurement, etc.-St.]
270 The text ends this line in Arabic.
271 Alluding to the curious phenomenon pithily expressed in the Latin proverb, “Suus cuique crepitus benè olet,” I know of no exception to the rule, except amongst travellers in Tibet, where the wild onion, the only procurable green-stuff, produces an odour so rank and fetid that men run away from their own crepitations. The subject is not savoury, yet it has been copiously illustrated: I once dined at a London house whose nameless owner, a noted bibliophile, especially of “facetiæ,” had placed upon the drawing-room table a dozen books treating of the “Crepitus ventris.” When the guests came up and drew near the table, and opened the volumes, their faces were a study. For the Arab. “Faswah” = a silent break wind, see vol. ix. 11 and 291. It is opposed to “Zirt” = a loud fart and the vulgar term, see vol. ii. 88.
272 Arab. “Yá Házá,” see vol. i. 290.
273 In text “Yumkinshayy,” written in a single word, a favourite expression, Fellah-like withal, throughout this MS.
274 In text “Tafazzalú;” see vol. ii. 103.
275 The word (Saráy) is Pers. But naturalised throughout Egypt and Syria; in places like Damascus where there is no king it is applied to the official head-quarters of the Walí (provincial governor), and contains the prison like the Maroccan “Kasbah.” It must not be confounded with “Serraglio” = the Harem, Gynecium or women’s rooms, which appears to be a bastard neo-Latin word “Serrare,” through the French Serrer. I therefore always write it with the double “canine letter.”
276 I have noted (vol. i. 95) that the “Khil’ah” = robe of honour, consists of many articles, such as a horse, a gold-hilted sword, a fine turban, etc., etc.
277 This again shows the “Nakkál” or coffee-house tale-teller. See vol. x. 144.
278 This is the Moslem version of “Solomon’s Judgment” (1 Kings iii. 16-20). The Hebrew legend is more detailed but I prefer its rival for sundry reasons. Here the women are not “harlots” but the co-wives of one man and therefore hostile; moreover poetical justice is done to the constructive murderess.
279 I am not aware that the specific gravity of the milks has ever been determined by modern science; and perhaps the experiment is worthy a trial.
280 Arab. “Dúna-k.” See vol. iv. p. 20.
281 “Al-Wazíru’l-Arif bi-lláhi Ta’álà,” a title intended to mimic those of the Abbaside Caliphs; such as “Mu’tasim bi’llah” (servant of Allah), the first of the long line whose names begin with an epithet (the Truster, the Implorer, etc.), and ed with “bi’llah.”
282 [Tarajjama, which is too frequently used in this MS. to be merely considered as a clerical error, I suppose to mean: he pronounced for him the formula: “A’uzzu bi lláhi mina ‘l-Shaytáni ‘l-Rajimi“ = I take refuge with Allah against Satan the Stoned. See Koran xvi. 100. It would be thus equivalent with the usual taßwwaza.-St.]
283 The MS. here ends Night cdxii. and begins the next. Up to this point I have followed the numeration but from this forwards as the Nights become unconscionably short compared with the intervening dialogues, I have thrown two and sometimes three into one. The Arabic numbers are, however, preserved for easier reference.
The Sultan was delighted with the ‘Ajami’s relation and largessed him two thousand pieces of gold; after which he returned to his palace and took seat upon his Divan when suddenly a poor man appeared before him carrying a load of fruit and greens and greeted him and prayed for him and expressed a blessing which the Sultan returned and bade him fair welcome. After which he asked, “What hast thou with thee, O Shaykh?” and the other answered, “O King of the Age, I have an offering to thee of fresh greens and first-fruits;” and the King rejoined, “It is accepted.” Thereupon the man placed them between his royal hands and stood up, and the King having removed the cover285 found under it a portion of ordinary cucumbers and sundry curling cucumbers and bundles of rose-mallows286 which had been placed before him. So he took thereof some little matter and ate it and was much pleased and bade the Eunuchry bear the rest into the Harem. They carried out his commands and the women also were delighted and having eaten somewhat they distributed the remainder to the slave-girls. Then said they, “By Allah, this man, the fruitowner, deserveth Bakhshísh;”287 so they sent to him by the Eunuch one hundred gold pieces whereto the Sultan added twain, so the whole of his gain was three hundred dinars. But the Sultan was much pleased with the man and a part of the care which he felt was lightened to him, whereupon asked he, “O Shaykh, knowest thou aught of boon-companionship with the Kings?” to which the other answered, “Yes;” for he was trim of tongue and ready of reply and sweet of speech. Presently the Sultan continued, “O Shaykh, for this present go back to thy village and give to thy wife and family that which Allah hath made thy lot.” Accordingly the man went forth and did as the King bade him; after which he returned in a short time and went into the presence about set of sun when he found his liege lord at supper. The King bade him sit to the trays which he did and he ate after the measure of his sufficiency, and again when the Sultan looked upon him he was pleased with him. And when the hour of nightprayers came all prayed together;288 then the King invited him to sit down as a cup-companion and commanded him to relate one of his tales. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the man took seat as a boon-companion of the King, and began to relate
284 This is a poor and scamped version of “Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper,” in vol. v. 149. It is therefore omitted.
285 The dish-cover, usually made of neatly plaited straw variously coloured, is always used, not only for cleanliness but to prevent the Evil Eye falling upon and infecting the food.
286 The “Bámiyah,” which = the Gumbo, Occra (Okrá) or Bhendi of Brit. India which names the celebrated bazar of Bombay, is the esculent hibiscus, the polygonal pod (some three inches long and thick as a man’s finger) full of seeds and mucilage making it an excellent material for soups and stews. It is a favourite dish in Egypt and usually eaten with a squeeze of lime-juice. See Lane, Mod. Egypt. chapt. v., and Herklots (App. p. xlii.) who notices the curry of “Bandakí” or Hibiscus esculentus.
287 Written “Bakshísh,” after Fellah-fashion.
288 [In the MS.: Wa’l-Sultánu karaa Wirduh (Wirda-hu) wa jalasa li Munádamah = And the Sovran recited his appointed portion of the Koran, and then sat down to convivial converse. This reminds of the various passages of the present Shah of Persia’s Diary, in which he mentions the performance of his evening devotions, before setting out for some social gathering, say a supper in the Guildhall, which he neatly explains as a dinner after midnight (Shám ba’d az nisf-i-shab). — St.]
It is told anent a man, one of the Kings of Orient-land, that he had three sons, of whom the eldest one day of the days heard the folk saying, “In such a place there is a bird hight the shrilling Philomelet,290 which transmews everyone who comes to it into a form of stone. Now when the heir apparent heard this report he went to his father and said, “’Tis my desire to fare forth and to get that marvellous bird;” and said the father, “O my son, thou wouldst work only to waste thy life-blood and to deprive us of thee; for that same bird hath ruined Kings and Sultans, not to speak of Bashas and Sanjáks,291 men in whose claws292 thou wouldst be as nothing.” But the son replied, “Needs must I go and if thou forbid my going I will kill myself.” So quoth his father, “There is no Majesty and no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great;” and saith the son, “Affects are affected and steps are sped towards a world that is vile and distributed daily bread.”293 Then he said to him, “O my child, set out upon thy journey and mayest thou win to thy wish.” Hereupon they prepared for him somewhat of victual and he went forth on his wayfare. But before departing he took off his seal-ring from his finger and gave it to his second brother saying, “O my brother, an this signet press hard upon thy little finger do thou know and make certain that mishap hath happened to me.” So the second Prince took it and put it upon his minim finger, after which the eldest youth farewelled his father and his mother and his brothers and the Lords of the land and departed seeking the city wherein the Bird woned. He ceased not travelling by nights and days, the whole of them, until he reached the place wherein was the bird Philomelet whose habit it was to take station upon his cage between mid-afternoon and sunset, when he would enter it to pass the night. And if any approached him with intent of capturing him, he would sit afar from the same and at set of sun he would take station upon the cage and would cry aloud speaking in a plaintive voice, “Ho thou who sayest to the mean and mesquin, ‘Lodge!’294 Ho thou who sayest to the sad and severed, ‘Lodge!’ Ho thou who sayest to the woeful and doleful, ‘Lodge!’” Then if these words were grievous to the man standing before him and he make reply “Lodge!” ere the words could leave his lips the Bird would take a pinch of dust from beside the cage and hovering over the wight’s head would scatter it upon him and turn him into stone. At length arrived the youth who had resolved to seize the Bird and sat afar from him till set of sun: then Philomelet came and stood upon his cage and cried, “Ho thou who sayest to the mean and mesquin, ‘Lodge!’ Ho thou who sayest to the sad and severed, ‘Lodge!’ Ho thou who sayest to the woeful and the doleful, ‘Lodge!’” Now the cry was hard upon the young Prince and his heart was softened and he said, “Lodge!” This was at the time when the sun was disappearing, and as soon as he spake the word the Bird took a somewhat of dust and scattered it upon the head of the youth, who forthright became a stone. At that time his brother was sitting at home in thought concerning the wanderer, when behold, the signet squeezed his finger and he cried, “Verily my brother hath been despoiled of life and done to death!"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the second Prince, when the signet squeezed his little finger, cried out saying, “My brother, by Allah, is ruined and lost; but needs must I also set forth and look for him and find what hath befallen him.” Accordingly he said to his sire, “O my father, ’tis my desire to seek my brother;” and the old King answered, “Why, O my son, shouldst thou become like thy brother, both bereaving us of your company?” But the other rejoined, “There is no help for that nor will I sit at rest till I go after my lost one and espy what hath betided him.” Thereupon his sire gave orders for his journey and got ready what would suffice him of victual, and he departed, but before he went he said to his youngest brother, “Take thou this ring and set it upon thy little finger, and if it press hard thereupon do thou understand and be certified that my life’s blood is shed and that I have perished.” After this he farewelled them and travelled to the place of the Enchanting Bird, and he ceased not wayfaring for whole days and nights and nights and days until he arrived at that stead. Then he found the bird Philomelet and sat afar from him till about sundown when he took station upon his cage and began to cry, “Ho thou who sayest to the mean and mesguin, ‘Lodge!’ Ho thou who sayest to the sad and severed, ‘Lodge!’ Ho thou who sayest to the woeful and doleful, ‘Lodge!’” Now this cry of the Bird was hard upon the young Prince and he had no sooner pronounced the word “Lodge!” than the Philomelet took up somewhat of dust beside his cage and scattered it upon him, when forthright he became a stone lying beside his brother. Now the youngest of the three Princes was sitting at meat with his sire when suddenly the signet shrank till it was like to cut off his finger; so he rose forthright to his feet and said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great.” Quoth his father, “What is to do with thee, O my son?” and quoth he, “By Allah, my brother is ruined and wasted, so needs must I also fare forth and look after the twain of them.” Exclaimed his sire, “Why, O my son, should you three be cut off?” but the other answered, “Needs must I do this, nor can I remain after them without going to see what hath betided them, and either we three shall return in safety and security or I also shall become one of them.” So the father bade them prepare for his journey and after they had got ready for him a sufficiency of provision he farewelled him and the youth set out. But when he departed from his sire the old man and his wife filleted their brows with the fillets of sorrow295 and they fell to weeping by night and by day. Meanwhile the youth left not wayfaring till he reached the stead of the Bird and the hour was mid-afternoon, when he found his brothers ensorcelled to stones, and about sunset he sat down at the distance from Philomelet who took station upon his cage and began to cry, “Ho thou who sayest to the mean and mesquin, ‘Lodge!’ Ho thou who sayest to the sad and severed, ‘Lodge!’” together with many words and instances of the same kind. But the Prince hardened his heart nor would speak the word, and albeit the Bird continued his cry none was found to answer him. Now when the sun evanished and he had kept up his appeal in vain he went into the cage, whereupon the youngest of the Princes arose and running up shut the door upon him. Quoth the Bird, “Thou hast done the deed, O son of the Sultan,” and the youth replied, “Relate to me whatso thou hast wrought in magic to these creations of God.” Replied Philomelet, “Beside thee lie two heaps of clay whereof one is white and the other blue: this is used in sorcery and that to loose the spells."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Bird said to the youngest son of the Sultan, “By the side of my cage are two heaps of clay, this blue and that white; and the first is the material for sorcery whilst the second looseth the spell.” Hereupon the youth approached them and finding the mounds took somewhat of the white and scattered it upon the stones and cried, “Be ye returned unto your olden shapes;” and, as he did so, each and every of the stones became men as they had been. Now amongst them were sundry sons of the Sultans, also the children of Kings and Wazirs and Bashas and Lords of the land, and of the number two were the elder brothers of the young Prince: so they salamed to him and all congratulated one another to their safety. After this one came forward to the youth and said to him, “Verily this place is a city, all and some of whose folk are ensorcelled.” So he took a somewhat of clay from the white and entered the streets, where, finding the case as described to him, he fell to sifting the clay upon them and they were transmewed from statutes of stone into the shapes of Adam’s sons. Then, at last, the sons of that city rose one and all and began offering to the Prince gifts and rarities until he had of them a mighty matter. But when his brothers saw that he had become master of the bird Philomelet and his cage, and all these presents and choice treasures, they were filled with envy of him296 and said each to other, “How shall our brother win him all this and we abide with him in servile condition, especially when we hie us homewards and return to our own land? And will not folk say that the salvation of the two elder brothers was by the hand of the youngest? But we cannot endure such disgrace as this!” So envy entered them and in their jealousy they planned and plotted the death of their cadet, who knew not that was in their minds or whatso was hidden from him in the Limbo of Secrets. And when they had wrought their work the youngest Prince arose and bade his pages and eunuchs lade the loads upon the camels and mules and, when they had done his bidding, they all set forth on the homewards march. They travelled for whole days and nights till they drew near their destination and the youngest Prince bade his attendants seeks an open place where in they might take repose, and they said, “Hearkening and obedience.” But when they came upon it they found a well builded of stone, and the brothers said to the cadet, “This be a place befitting the rest by reason of this well benign here; for the water thereof is sweet and good for our drink and therefifth we can supply our folk and our beasts.” Replied the youth, “This is what we desire.” So they set up their tents hard by that well, and when the camp was pitched they let prepare the evening meal, and as soon as it was sunset-tide they spread the trays and supped their sufficiency until presently night came down upon them. Now the youngest Prince had a bezel’d signet-ring which he had taken from the bird Philomelet, and he was so careful thereof that he never slept without it. But his brothers awaited until he was drowned in sleep, when coming softly upon him they pinioned him and carried him off and cast him into the well without anyone knowing aught thereof. Then as soon as morning morrowed the two eldest Princes arose and commanded the attendants to load, but these said to them, “Where be our lord?” and said the others, “He is sleeping in the Takhtrawán.” So the camel men arose and loaded the loads and the litter and the two Princes sent forwards to the King their sire a messenger of glad tidings who when he found him informed him of the fair news. Accordingly he and all his Lords took horse and rode forth to meet his sons upon the road that he might salam to them and give them joy of their safe return. Now he chanced in their train to catch sight of the caged bird which is called “the shrilling Philomelet,” and he rejoiced thereat and asked them, “How did ye become masters of him?” Then he enquired anent their brother. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan enquired of the two elder sons concerning their younger brother and they said, “We made ourselves masters of the Bird and we have brought him hither and we know nothing about our cadet.” However, the King who loved his youngest with exceeding love put the question, “Have ye not looked after him and have ye not been in his company?” whereto they answered saying, “A certain wayfarer declared to have seen him on some path or other.” When the father heard this from them he cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great;” and he fell to striking palm upon palm.297 On this wise it befel these, but as regards the case of their brother, when they cast him into the well he awoke from his sleep and he felt himself falling into the depths, so he cried, “I take refuge with the All-sufficient Words of Allah298 from the mischief He hath created.” And by the blessing of these Holy Names he reached the sole of the well without aught of harm or hurt. Here finding himself pinioned, he strained upon his bonds and loosed them; but the well was deep of bottom and he came upon an arched recess, so he sat in it and exclaimed, “Verily we are Allah’s and to Him we are returning and I who wrought for them such work299 am rewarded with the contrary thereof; withal the power is unto Allah.” And suddenly he heard the sound of speaking at some little distance beside him, and the voice was saying, “O Black of Head, who hath come amongst us?” and his comrade responded, “By Allah, this youth is the son of the Sultan and his best beloved, and the same hath released his brothers from sorcery and was carrying them to their homes when they played him false and cast him into this well. However, he hath a signet-ring with a bezel which if he rub ’twill bespeak him with whatso he desireth, and will do what he may wish.” So the Prince said in his mind, “I bid the Servant of this Ring to take me out;” after which he rubbed it and the Jinni appeared and cried, “Yea verily, O son of the Sultan, what is it thou requirest of me?"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Ring-bezel said to him, “What dost thou require of me?” and said the Prince, “I demand that thou hoist me out of the well: and this done that thou summon for me an host with Pages and Eunuchs and tents and pavilions and ensigns and banners.” Whereto the other replied, “Present.”300 Then he brought him forth the well and the youth found hard by it all he needed, so he bade them load their belongings upon the beasts and when this was done he set out seeking the city of his sire. And as he drew so near it that it was within shot of eye, he alighted there upon a broad plain and ordered them to pitch the camp. Accordingly they set up the tents and the sitting pavilions while the Farrashes fell to sprinkling water upon the ground afront the abodes and to setting up the ensigns and colours whilst the band of kettledrums went dub-a-dub and the trumpets blared tantaras. The cooks also began at once to prepare the evening meal. Now when the cityfolk saw this pomp and circumstance, they held in their minds that the new comer was some Sultan approaching to take their town; so they gathered together and went in to their own King and informed him thereof. But he, having heard their words, felt his heart melt and his vitals throb and a certain joy penetrate into his heart, so he said, “Praise to the Lord, there hath entered into my heart a certain manner of pleasure, albeit I know not what may be the case and Allah hath said in his Holy Book, ‘We have heard good news.’”301 Hereupon he and the Lords of his land took horse and rode till they reached the front of the pavilions where the King dismounted from his steed. Now the Prince his younger son was dressed in a habit that might have belonged to a hidden Hoard, and when he saw his father he recognised him, so he rose and met him and kissed his hands, but his sire knew him not by reason of the case the youth was in, so he supposed him to be a strange Sultan. Presently, the Prince asked him, “Where be thy youngest son?” and the King hearing this fell down a-fainting, but, soon recovering from his swoon, he said, “Verily my son hath wasted the blood of his life and hath become food for wild beasts.” Hereupon the youth laughed aloud and cried, “By Allah, thy son hath not suffered aught from the shifts and changes of the World, and he is still in the bonds of life, safe and sound; nor hath there befallen him anything of harm whatever.” “Where is he?” quoth the father: “He standeth between thy hands,” quoth the son. So the Sultan looked at him and straightly considering him found that it was his very son who was bespeaking him, and of his delight he threw his arms around his neck and fell with him aswoon to the ground. This lasted for a full-told hour; but when he recovered from his fainting he asked his son what had betided him, so he told all that had befallen, to wit how he had become master of the Enchanting Bird Philomelet, and also of the magical clay wherewith he had besprinkled his brethren and others of the city-folk who had been turned to stone, all and some, and how they had returned to the shapes whilome they wore. Moreover he recounted to him the presents and offerings which had been made to him and also how, when they arrived at a certain place, his brothers had pinioned him and cast him into the well. And ere he finished speaking, lo and behold! the two other Princes came in and when they looked upon his condition and noted the state of prosperity he was in, surrounded as he was by all manner of weal, they felt only increase of envy and malice. But as soon as their sire espied them he cried, “Ye have betrayed me in my son and have lied to me and, by Allah, there is no retribution for you on my part save death;” and hereupon the Sultan bade do them die. Then the youngest Prince made intercession for his brethren and said, “O my sire, whoso doeth a deed shall meet its deserts,” and thus he obtained their pardon. So they passed that night one and all in camp and when morning morrowed they loaded and returned to the city and all were in the most pleasurable condition. Now when the King heard this tale from the owner of the fruit it pleased him and he rejoiced therein and said, “By Allah, O Shaykh, indeed that hath gone from us which we had of cark and care; and in good sooth this history deserveth that it be written with water of gold upon the pages of men’s hearts.” Replied the other, “By Allah, O King of the Age, this adventure is marvellous, but I have another more wondrous and pleasurable and delectable than any thou hast yet heard.” Quoth the Sultan, “Needs must thou repeat it to us,” and quoth the fruit-seller, “Inshallah-God willing-I will recite it to thee on the coming night.” Hereupon the Sultan called for a hand-maiden who was a model of beauty and loveliness and stature and perfect grace and from the time of his buying her he never had connection with her nor had he once slept with her, and he gave her in honourable gift to the reciter. Then he set apart for them both an apartment with its furniture and appurtenances and the slave-girl rejoined greatly thereat. Now when she went in to her new lord she donned her best of dresses so he lay down beside her and sought carnal copulation, but his prickle would not stand erect, as was its wont, although he knew not the cause thereof. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the prickle of the Fruiterer would not stand to the handmaid as was the wont thereof, so he cried, “Verily this is a wondrous business.” Then the girl fell to rubbing it up and to toying therewith, her object being to stablish an erection. But the article in question grew not and remained limp, whereupon she said, “O my lord, Allah increase the progress of thy pego!” Thereupon she arose and opened a bag wherefrom she drew out kerchiefs and dried aromatic herbs302 such as are scattered upon corpses; and she also brought a gugglet of water. Presently she fell to washing the prickle as it were a dead body, and after bathing it she shrouded it with a kerchief: then she cried upon her women and they all bewept the untimely fate of his yard which was still clothed in the kerchief.303 And when morning morrowed the Sultan sent after the man and summoned him and said to him, “How passed thy night?” So he told him all that had betided him, and concealed from him naught; and when the Sultan heard this account from him he laughed at him on such wise that from excess of merriment he well nigh fell upon his back and cried, “By Allah, if there be such cleverness in that girl, she becometh not any save myself.” Accordingly he sent to fetch her as she stood and left the furniture of the place wholly and entirely to the owner of the fruit. And when this was done the Sultan made of him a boon-companion for that day from morning to evening and whenever he thought of the handmaid’s doings he ordered the man to repeat the tale and he laughed at him and admired the action of the slave-girl with the Limpo. When darkness came on they prayed the night-prayer and they supped and sat down to converse and to tell anecdotes.304 Thereupon the King said to him Fruiterer, “Relate us somewhat of that thou hast heard anent the Kings of old;” and said the other, “Hearing and obeying,” and forthwith began the
289 This is Scott’s “Story of the Three Princes and Enchanting Bird,” vol. vi. 160. On the margin of the W. M. MS. he has written, “Story of the King and his Three Sons and the Enchanting Bird” (vol. i. Night cdxvii.). Gauttier, vi. 292, names it Histoire des Trois Princes et de l’Oiseau Magicien. Galland may have used parts of it in the “Two Sisters who envied their Cadette”: see Supp. vol. iii. pp. 313-361.
290 In text “Al-Bulaybul” (the little Nightingale, Philomelet) “Al Sayyáh” (the Shrieker). The latter epithet suggests to me the German novel which begins, “We are in Italy where roses bestink the day and Nightingales howl through the live-long night,” &c.
291 “Sanjak,” Turk. = flag, banner, and here used (as in vulg. Arab.) for Sanják-dár, the banner-bearer, ensign. In mod. parlance, Sanják = minor province, of which sundry are included in an “Iyálah” = government-general, under the rule of a Wáli (Wiláyah).
292 In the MS. “Zifr” = nail, claw, talon.
293 “Al-Rizk maksúm,” an old and sage byword pregnant with significance: compare “Al-Khauf (fear) maksúm” = cowardice is equally divided. Vol. iii. 173. [I read: “Yas’à ‘l-Kadamu li-‘Umrin dana au li-Rizkin qusima,” taking “Rizk” as an equivalent for “al-Rizku ‘l-hasanu” = any good thing which a man obtains without exerting himself in seeking for it, and the passive “qusima” in the sense of Kismah, vulgo “Kismet.” Hence I would translate: The foot speeds to a life that is mean, or to a boon that is pre-ordained.-St.]
294 In the text “Bát” (for Bit), in Fellah-speech “Pass the night here!” The Bird thus makes appeal to the honour and hospitality of his would-be captor, and punishes him if he consent. I have translated after Scott (v. 161). [I cannot persuade myself to take “bát” for an imperative, which would rather be “bít” for “bit,” as we shall find “kúm” for “kum,” “rúh” for “ruh.” It seems to me that the preterite “bát” means here “the night has passed,” and rendering “man” by the interrogative, I would translate: “O! who shall say to the sad, the separated, night is over?” Complaints of the length of night are frequent with the parted in Arab poetry. This accords also better with the following ‘Atús al-Shams, the sneezing of the sun, which to my knowledge, applies only to daybreak, as in Hariri’s 15th Assembly (al-Farziyah), where “the nose of the morning” sneezes. — St.]
295 i.e., they bound kerchiefs stained blue or almost black round their brows. In modern days Fellah women stain their veils (face and head), kerchiefs and shirts with indigo; and some colour their forearms to the elbow.
296 Here again and in the following adventure we have “Khudadad and his Brothers.” Suppl. vol. iii. 145-174.
297 In sign of despair. See vol. i. 298.
298 In text “Kalamátu ‘llah” = the Koran: and the quotation is from chapt. cxiii. 5. For the “Two Refuge-takings” (Al-Mu’awizzatáni), see vol. iii. 222.
299 i.e., caused his brothers to recover life. [I read: Allazí ‘amaltu fí-him natíjah yujázúní bi-Ziddi-há = Those to whom I did a good turn, requite me with the contrary thereof. Allazí, originally the masc. Sing. is in this MS. vulgarly, like its still more vulgar later contraction, “illí,” used for both genders and the three numbers. — St.]
300 Arab. “Házir!” I have noted that this word, in Egypt and Syria, corresponds with the English waiter’s “Yes sir!”
301 Koran, Chapter of Joseph, xii. 19.
302 Arab. “Hanút:” this custom has become almost obsolete: the corpse is now sprinkled with a mixture of water, camphor diluted and the dried and pounded leaves of various trees, especially the “Nabk” (lote-tree or Zizyphus lotus). — Lane M.E. chapt. xxviii.
303 These comical measures were taken by “Miss Lucy” in order to charm away the Evil Eye which had fascinated the article in question. Such temporary impotence in a vigorous man, which results from an exceptional action of the brain and the nervous system, was called in old French Nouement des aiguilettes (i.e. point-tying, the points which fastened the haut-de-chausses or hose to the jerkin, and its modern equivalent would be to “button up the flap”). For its cure, the ”Deliement des aiguilettes“ see Davenport “Aphrodisiacs” p. 36, and the French translation of the Shaykh al-Nafzáwi (Jardin Parfumé, chapt. xvii. pp. 251-53). The Moslem heals such impotence by the usual simples, but the girl in the text adopts a moral course which buries the dead parts in order to resurrect them. A friend of mine, a young and vigorous officer, was healed by a similar process. He had carried off a sergeant’s wife, and the husband lurked about the bungalow to shot him, a copper cap being found under the window hence a state of nervousness which induced perfect impotence. He applied to the regimental surgeon, happily a practised hand, and was gravely supplied with pills and a draught; his diet was carefully regulated and he was ordered to sleep by the woman but by no means to touch her for ten days. On the fifth he came to his adviser with a sheepish face and told him that he had not wholly followed the course prescribed, as last night he had suddenly — by the blessing of the draught and the pills — recovered and had given palpable evidence of his pristine vigour. The surgeon deprecated such proceeding until the patient should have full benefit of his drugs — bread pills and cinnamon-water.
304 Here ends vol. iii. of the W. M. MS. and begins Night cdxxvi.
It is related that there was a Sultan in the land of Al-Yaman who had three male children, two of them by one mother and a third by another. Now that King used to dislike this second wife and her son, so he sent her from him and made her, together with her child, consort with the handmaids of the kitchen, never asking after them for a while of time. One day the two brothers-german went in to their sire and said to him, “’Tis the desire of us to go forth a-hunting and a-chasing,” whereto their father replied, “And have ye force enough for such sport?” They said, “Yea, verily, we have!” when he gave to each of them a horse with its furniture of saddle and bridle, and the twain rode off together. But as soon as the third son (who together with his mother had been banished to the kitchen) heard that the other two had gone forth to hunt, he went to his mother and cried, “I also would fain mount and away to the chase like my brethren.” His mother responded, saying, “O my son, indeed I am unable to buy thee a horse or aught of the kind;” so he wept before her and she brought him a silvern article, which he took and fared forth with it to the bazar, and there, having sold it for a gold piece, he repaired to a neighbouring mill and bought him a lame garron. After this he took a bittock of bread; and, backing the beast without saddle or bridle, he followed upon the footsteps of his brothers through the first day and the second, but on the third he took the opposite route. Presently he reached a Wady, when behold, he came across a string305 of pearls and emeralds which glittered in the sunlight, so he picked it up and set it upon his head and he fared onwards singing for very joy. But when he drew near the town he was met by his two brothers who seized him and beat him and, having taken away his necklace, drove him afar from them. Now he was much stronger and more beautiful than they were, but as he and his mother had been cast off by the King, he durst not offer aught of resistance.306 Now the two brothers having taken the necklace from him went away joyful, and repairing to their father, showed him the ornament and he rejoiced in them and hending it in his hand marvelled thereat. But the youngest son went to his mother with his heart well nigh broken. Then the Sultan said to his two sons, “Ye have shown no cleverness herein until ye bring me the wearer of this necklace.” They answered, “Hearkening and obedience, and we will set out to find her."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the sons of the Sultan made them ready for the march whereby they might bring back the bird to whom the necklace belonged. So they took them a sufficiency of provision and, farewelling their father, set out for the city wherein they judged the bird might be. Such was their case; but as regards their unhappy brother, when he heard the news of their going he took with him a bittock of bread and having bidden adieu to his mother mounted his lame garron and followed upon the traces of his brethren for three days. Presently he found himself in the midst of the wild and the wold, and he ceased not faring therethrough till he came to a city whose folk were all weeping and wailing and crying and keening. So he accosted an aged man and said to him, “The Peace be upon thee!” and when the other returned his salam and welcomed him he asked saying, “O my uncle, tell me what causeth these groans and this grief?” The other replied, “O my son, verily our city is domineered over by a monstrous Lion who every year cometh about this time and he hath already done on such wise for forty and three years. Now he expecteth every twelvemonth as he appeareth to be provided with a damsel arrayed and adorned in all her finery, and if he chance to come as is his wont and find her not he would assault the city and destroy it. So before the season of his visit they cast lots upon the maidens of the place and whomso these befal, her they decorate and lead forth to a place without the walls that the monster may take her. And this year the sort hath fallen upon the King’s daughter.”307 When the youth heard these words he held his peace and, having taken seat by the old man for an hour or so, he arose and went forth to the place where the Lion was wont to appear and he took his station there, when behold, the daughter of the King came to him and right heavy was she of heart. But as she found the youth sitting there, she salam’d to him and made friendship with him and asked, “What brought thee to this stead?” Answered he, “That which brought thee brought me also.” Whereto quoth she, “Verily at this hour the Lion shall come to seize me, but as soon as he shall see me he will devour thee before me, and thus both of us shall lose our lives; so rise up and depart and save thyself, otherwise thou wilt become mere wasted matter in the belly of the beast.” “By Allah, O my lady,” quoth he, “I am thy sacrifice at such a moment as this!” And as they were speaking, suddenly the world was turned topsy-turvy,308 and dust-clouds and sand-devils309 flew around and whirlwinds began to play about them, and lo and behold! the monster made his appearance; and as he approached he was lashing his flanks with his tail like the sound of a kettle-drum. Now when the Princess espied him, the tears poured down her cheeks, whereat the youth sprang to his feet in haste, and unsheathing his sword, went forth to meet the foe, who at the sight of him gnashed his tusks at him. But the King’s son met him bravely, springing nimbly from right to left, whereat the Lion raged furiously, and with the design to tear him limb from limb, made a rush at the youth, who smote him with all the force of his forearm and planted between his eyes a sway of scymitar so sore that the blade came out flashing between his thighs, and he fell to the ground slain and bleeding amain. When the Princess saw this derring-do of her defender, she rejoiced greatly and fell to wiping with her kerchief the sweat from his brow; and the youth said to her, “Arise and do thou fare to thy family.” “O my lord, and O light of mine eyes!” said she, “we twain together will wend together as though we were one flesh;” but he rejoined, “This is on no wise possible.” Then he arose from beside her and ceased not faring until he had entered the city, where he rested himself beside a shop. She also sprang up, and faring homewards, went in to her father and mother, showing signs of sore sorrow. When they saw her, their hearts fluttered with fear lest the monster should attack the town and destroy it, whereupon she said to them, “By Allah, the Lion hath been slain and lieth there dead.” They asked her saying, “What was it killed him?” and she answered, “A handsome youth fair of favour,” but they hardly believed her words and both went to visit the place, where they found the monster stone-dead. The folk of the city, one and all, presently heard this fair news, and their joy grew great, when the Sultan said to his daughter, “Thou! knowest thou the man who slew him?” to which she answered, “I know him.” But as all tidings of the youth were cut off, the King let proclaim about the city. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King let proclaim through the city how none should oppose him or delay to obey his bidding; nay, that each and every, great and small, should come forth and pass before the windows of his daughter’s palace. Accordingly the Crier went abroad and cried about the city to that purport, bidding all the lieges muster and defile in front of the Princess’s windows; and they continued so doing for three full-told days, while she sat continually expecting to sight the youth who had slain the lion, but to no purpose. At last never a soul remained who had not passed in the review, so the Sultan asked, “Is there anyone who hath absented himself?” and they answered, “There is none save a stranger youth who dwelleth in such and such a place.” “Bring him hither!” cried the King, “and command him to pass muster,” when the others hastened to fetch him; and as soon as he drew near the window, behold, a kerchief was thrown upon him.310 Then the Sultan summoned him, and he, when standing in the presence, saluted and made obeisance and blessed the Sovran with the blessings fit for the Caliphs. The Sultan was pleased thereat and said, “Art thou he who slew the Lion?” and said the other, “I did.” Hereupon quoth the King, “Ask a favour of me, that I grant it to thee;” and quoth the Youth, “I pray of Allah and then of our lord the Sultan that he marry me to his daughter.” But the King continued, “Ask of me somewhat of wealth,” and all the Lords of the land exclaimed, “By Allah, he deserveth the Princess who saved her from the Lion and slew the beast.” Accordingly the King bade the marriage-knot be tied, and let the bridegroom be led in procession to the bride, who rejoiced in him with extreme joy, and he abated her maidenhead and the two lay that night together. But the Prince arose about the latter hours without awaking his bride, and withdrawing her seal-ring from her finger, passed his own thereupon and wrote in the palm of her hand, “I am Aláeddín,311 son of King Such-and-such, who ruleth in the capital of Al-Hind, and, given thou love me truly, do thou come to me, otherwise stay in thy father’s house.” Then he went forth without awaking her and fared through wilds and wolds for a term of ten days, travelling by light and by night, till he drew near a certain city which was domineered over by an Elephant. Now this beast would come every year and take from the town a damsel; and on this occasion it was the turn of the Princess, daughter to the King who governed that country. But as the youth entered the streets he was met by groans and moans an crying and keening; so he asked thereanent and was answered that the Elephant was presently approaching to seize the maiden and devour her.312 He asked, “To what stead cometh he?” and they pointed out to him a place without the city whereto he repaired and took his seat. Suddenly the Princess presented herself before him a-weeping and with tears down her cheeks a-creeping, when he said to her, “O my lady, there is no harm for thee.” Said she, “O youth, by Allah! thou wastest thy life to no purpose and seekest thy death without cause, so rise up and save thyself, for the Elephant will be here this very hour.” And behold, the beast came up to the heart of the waste and he was raising a dust-cloud and trumpeting with rage313 and lashing flanks with tail. But when he arrived at the wonted place he was confronted by the youth who, with heart stronger than granite, hastened to fall upon him314 and fatigued him and dealt blows without cease; and, when the Elephant charged down upon him, he met the monster with a stroke between the eyes dealt with all the force of his forearm, and the blade came flashing out from between his thighs, when the beast fell to the ground slain and weltering in his blood amain. Thereupon, in the stress of her joy, the Princess arose hurriedly and walked towards the youth — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Princess walked hurriedly towards the youth and in the stress of her joy she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him between the eyes and cried, “O my lord, may thy hands never palsied grow nor exult over thee any foe!” Said he to her, “Return to thy people!” and said she, “There is no help but that I and thou fare together.” But he replied, “This matter is not the right rede,” and he went from her at a double quick pace, saying, “O Allah, may none see me!” until he entered the city and presently seating him beside a tailor’s shop fell to conversing with its owner. Presently the man said, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great: by this time the daughter of the King will have been seized by the Elephant and torn to pieces and devoured, and she the mainstay of her mother and her father.” And behold loud lullilooing315 flew about the city and one began exclaiming, “Verily the Elephant which is wont to come hither year by year hath been slaughtered by a man quite young in years, and the Sultan hath sent a Crier to cry amongst the crowds, ‘Let the slayer of the beast come into the presence and crave a boon and marry the maiden.’” So quoth the Youth to the tailor, “What is to do?” and the other informed him of the truth of the report, whereupon he asked, “If I go to the King will he give her to me?” Answered the tailor, “Who art thou that thou shouldest intermarry with the daughter of the King?” and the Prince rejoined, “We will go and bespeak him and lie to him saying, I am he who slew the monster.” But the other retorted, “O Youth, thou art willingly and wilfully going to thy death, for an thou lie to him he will assuredly cut off thy head.” Presently the Prince, who was listening to the Crier, said to his companion, “Up with thee and come with us that thou mayest look upon my execution;” and cried the other, “Why so, O thou true-born son?”316 whereto the Youth replied, “Needs must I do this!” Hereupon he and the man arose and went till they came to the palace of the Sultan, where they craved leave to enter, but were forbidden by the Chamberlain, when lo and behold! the Princess looked out from the lattice and saw the Prince together with the tailor. So she threw the kerchief upon his head and cried aloud, “By Allah, here he be, and ’tis none but he who slew the Elephant and who saved me from him.” Hereat the tailor fell to wondering at the youth, but when the King saw that his daughter had thrown the kerchief upon him, he presently sent to summon him between his hands and asked him how it happened, and heard from him the truth of the tale. Then said he, “By Allah, verily my daughter was lost, so that this youth well deserveth her.” Thereupon he tied the marriage tie between the twain and the youth after wedding her went to her in procession and did away her pucelage, and lay the night with her. And presently when day was nigh, the young Prince arose and seeing her slumbering wrote in the palm of her hand, “I am Such-and-such, the son of such a King in Such-and-such a capital; and if thou love me truly, come to find me, or otherwise stay in thy father’s house.” Then without awaking her he fared forth to the city of the Enchanting Bird and ceased not cutting athwart the wilds and the wolds throughout the nights and the days till he arrived at the place wherein dwelt the Bird Philomelet whereto the necklace belonged. And she was the property of the Princess the daughter of the Sovran whose seat was in that capital, and it was the greatest of cities and its King was the grandest of the Kings. When he entered the highways he leant against the shop of an Oilman to whom he said, “The Peace be upon you,” and the other returned his salutation and seated him beside himself, and the two fell to conversing. Presently the Prince asked him, “O my lord, what canst thou tell me concerning a certain Bird and her owner?” and the other made answer, “I know nothing but of oil and of honey and of clarified butter, whereof whatever thou requirest I will give to thee.” Quoth the youth, “This is no reply to my question,” and quoth the oilman, “I know not nor regard aught save what is by me in my shop.” So the Prince rising from beside him left him and went forth to continue his search; but whenever he asked concerning the Bird and its owner, the folk changed the subject and returned him no reply save, “We know not.” This lasted until he accosted a man well stricken in years, whose age was nigh to an hundred; and he was sitting alone at one side of the city; so the Youth walked up to him and salam’d; and, and after the other returned his greeting and kindly welcomed him and seated him near him, the two fell a-talking together, and the Prince asked him, “O my uncle, what canst thou tell me concerning the Bird whose necklet is of precious stones, and what concerning the owner thereof?” The aged man held his peace for awhile and presently exclaimed, “O my son, why ask me of this? O my child,317 verily the Kings and sons of the Kings have sought her in marriage but could not avail; indeed and the lives of folks manifold have been wasted upon her. How, then, canst thou hope to win her? Nevertheless, O my son, go and buy thee seven lambs and slaughter them and skin them, after which do thou roast them and cut them in halves; for she hath seven doors at each whereof standeth as warder a rending Lion; and at the eighth which guardeth the maiden and the Bird are posted forty slaves who at all times are there lying. And now I leave thee to thy luck, O my son.” But when the Prince heard these words he asked his abidance of the Shaykh and went forth from him — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Prince craved for the prayers of the Shaykh, who blessed him. Then he went forth from him and bought of the lambs what he had been charged to buy, and these he slaughtered and skinned and roasted and he cut each and every into two halves. He waited until night descended with its darkness and ceased the to-ing and fro-ing of folk, when he arose and walked to the place pointed out and there he found the Lion whose shape and size equaled the stature of a full-grown bull. He threw to him half a lamb and the beast allowed him to pass through that door, and it was the same with the other entrances, all seven of them, until he reached the eighth. Here he found the forty slaves who were bestrewn on the ground bedrowned in sleep; so he went in with soft tread and presently he came upon the Bird Philomelet in a cage encrusted with pearls and precious stones and he saw the Princess who owned him lying asleep upon a couch. Hereat he wrote upon the palm of her hand, “I am Such-and-such, son to the King Such-and-such, of such a city; and I have come in upon thee and beheld thee bared whilst thou wast sleeping, and I have also taken away the Bird. However, an thou love me and long for me, do thou come to me in mine own city.” Then he seized the Bird to his prize and fared forth and what he did with the Lions coming that he did when going out. The Veiler318 veiled him, and he went forth the city and met not a single soul, and he ceased not faring the livelong night till next morning did appear, when he hid in a place seeking repose and ate somewhat of victual. But as soon as the daylight shone bright, he arose and continued his journey, praying Allah for protection on his wayfare, till it was mid-afternoon: then he found, like an oasis in the middle of the waste, certain pastures of the wild Arabs and as he drew near the owner met him and salam’d to him and greeted him and blessed him. So he lay that night with them till dawn when the Shaykh of the encampment who had heard of the stranger came to him and welcomed him and found him a youth fair of form and favour and saw by his side the Enchanting Bird in its cage. He recognised it and wondered at the young man’s derring-do and cried, “Subhana ‘lah — praise be to God-who hath committed his secret unto the weakliest of His creation!319 Verily this Bird hath caused on its account to be slain many of the Wazirs and the Kings and the Sultans, yet hath yonder lad mastered it and carried it away. This however is by virtue of his good fortune.” Then the old man had compassion on him and gave him a horse that he had by him together with somewhat of provaunt. The Prince took them from him and returning to his march traversed the wilds and the wolds for days and nights, all of them; and he continued in that case when he drew near his father’s capital which rose within eye-shot. And as he walked on without heed, behold, his brethren met him and confronted him and fell upon him and, having taken away the Enchanting Bird, reviled him and beat him and shook him off and drove him away. Then they entered the city and sought their sire who received them with fair reception and greeted them and rejoiced in them; after which they presented him with the Bird Philomelet, and said, “Here we bring him to thee and there befell us through his account much toil and trouble.” But their brother who had really won the prize went to his mother in sadness of heart — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the young Prince who had brought the Bird and whom his brothers had beaten and robbed of his prize, went to his mother in sadness of heart and shedding tears. Quoth she, “What is thy case and what hath befallen thee?” So he told her what had betided him and she said, “Sorrow not, O my son; the course of the right shall be made manifest.” Then she quieted him and soothed his heart. This is what happened to these persons; but as regards the Princess, the owner of the Bird, when she awoke at dawn of day and opened her eyes, she found her favourite gone and as her glance fell upon the things about her, suddenly she saw something written in the palm of her hand. But as soon as she had read it and comprehended its purport, she cried aloud with a mighty grievous cry which caused the palace-women to flock around,320 and her father to ask what was to do but none could explain it because no one knew. So the Sultan arose forthright and, going in to his daughter, found her buffeting her face for the sake of her Bird and asked her, “What is to do with thee?” So she informed him of what had befallen her, adding, “Verily he who came into my bower and discovered me bare and looked upon me and wrote upon the palm of my hand, him I am determined to have and none other save that one.” Quoth her father, “O my daughter, many sons of the Wazirs and the Kings have sought the bird and have failed; and now do thou suppose that he hath died;” but quoth the Princess, “I desire none save the man who found me in sleep and looked upon me, and he is the son of King So-and-so, reigning in such a capital.” Said her father, “Then how standeth the case?” and said she, “Needs must I thank him and seek his city and marry him, for assuredly amongst the sons of the Kings, all of them, none can be fairer or more delightsome than he who hath craftily devised this entrance to me in so guarded a stead as this. How then can anyone be his peer?”321 Hereupon her father bade muster the forces without the city and he brought out for his daughter rarities and presents and mule-litters, and they pitched the tents and after three days they loaded the loads for travel. Then they fared for whole days and nights until they drew near the city wherein the youth had slain the Elephant and had saved the daughter of the King. So the Sultan set up his encampment with its tents and pavilions hard by the walls, to the end that all might take their rest, but when the King of the City saw this he rode forth to visit the stranger, and after greeting asked him the cause of his coming with such a host. The Sultan apprised him of what had happened to his daughter, how she had lost the Enchanting Bird, also how the youth had come into her bower and had written a writ upon the palm of her hand. But when the King heard from him this account he knew and was certified that it was the same Prince who had also slain the Elephant and who had on such wise saved his daughter’s life; so he said to the Sultan, “Verily he who took the Bird belonging to thy Princess hath also married my daughter, for he hath done such-and-such deeds.” After which he related to him the slaughter of the Elephant and all that had happened from beginning to end. Now as soon an heard these words he cried, “By Allah, my daughter is excusable and she hath shown her insight and her contrivance;” and presently he arose and going in to her related what he had heard from the King of the City, and she wondered at the tale of the youth’s adventures and the killing of the Elephant. They nighted in that stead and the tidings soon reached the ears of the youth’s wife, the Princess who had been saved from the Elephant, and she said to her sire, “I also needs must go to him and forgather with him.” Hereupon the King her father bade muster his troops together with the Lords of the land without the city beside the host of the chief Sultan, and on the second day both Sovrans bade the loads be loaded for the march. When their bidding was obeyed the twain set out together and travelled for days and nights until they drew near to the capital of the King where the youth had slain the Lion, and they pitched their tents in its neighbourhood. Presently the Sovran of that capital came out and greeted them and asked them the cause of their coming; so they informed him of their adventures from commencement to conclusion; and he, when certified of the truth of this tale, returned to inform his daughter thereof. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the third King informed his daughter of the certainty of the tidings, and she also exclaimed, “Needs must I as well as they set out to seek him and forgather with him.” So her father returned to the Sultan and the King and told them of the adventures of the youth, and how he was the cause of his daughter’s salvation from the Lion which he had slain; and when the twain heard his words they marveled and cried, “By Allah, verily this youth is fortunate in all his doings: would Heaven we knew how be his condition with his father and whether he is loved or he is loathed.” Then the three fell to talking of the Prince’s qualities, and presently the third King arose and gave orders for gathering together the Lords of his land and his army, and he brought out for his daughter mule-litters, and gat ready all she might require of rarities and offerings. Then the three Kings gave orders to load the beasts and fared together, taking with them their three daughters who, whenever they conversed together used to praise the high gifts of the Prince and she who was the mistress of the Bird would say, “Ye twain have forgathered with him;” and the others would answer, “We passed with him no more than a single night;” after which they would relate to her the slaughter of the Lion and the Elephant. So she wondered and cried, “By Allah! verily he is auspicious of fortune. And they ceased not to be in such case for whole days and nights, and nights and days, throughout the length of the journey till they drew near the far-famed322 city which was the bourne of their wayfare and the object of their wishes. Now this happened about sunset-tide, so the three Kings who had alighted together bade their tents and pavilions be set up, and when their behest was obeyed, each and every of the three commanded that the firemen and the linkmen light up their torches and cressets, and they did so, one and all, until that Wady was illumined as by the sheen of day. But when the city folk saw what was done by the three Kings, their hearts quaked and their flesh quivered, and they cried, “Verily for the mighty hosts of these Kings there needs must be a cause of coming.” However the strangers knighted in sight until morn grew light, when the three Sovrans forgathered, and sent a messenger with an invite to the Lord of the city, who on receiving him, exclaimed, “Hearkening and obedience!” Then mounting without stay or delay he rode forth till he reached the strangers’ camp, where he alighted and went in and greeted them; and they, on similar guise, arose to him and wished him long life, and seated him and fell to conversing with him for a full-told hour. But he was whelmed in the ocean of thought, and he kept saying to himself, “Would Heaven I knew what be the cause of the Kings coming to this my country.” However, the four Sovrans continued to converse until the noon-tide hour, when the trays were dispread for them, and the tables were laid with sumptuous meats in platters and chargers of precious metal, the very basins and ewers being of virgin gold. But when the King of that city beheld this he marveled, and said in his mind, “By Allah, there is not with me aught of rarities like these.” As soon as they had ended eating what sufficed them, water was brought to them and they washed their hands, after which they were served with confections and coffee and sherbets. Anon the three Kings said to their guest, “Thou, hast thou any children?” and said he, “Yes, I have two sons.” Quoth they, “Summon them before us that we may look upon them;” so he sent and bade them make act of presence. The Princes donned their finest dresses and perfumed themselves; then they took horse and rode until they had reached their father’s palace. But the three Princesses stood to look at them, and she who was the owner of the Bird Philomelet asked of the two others, saying, “Is he amongst these twain?” and they answered, “Nay, he is not.” She exclaimed, “By Allah, both of them be fine men,” and the others cried, “Indeed, our husband is far fairer and finer than they.” But when the Kings saw the two brothers they said to their sire, “Verily our need is not with them."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the two Kings said to the lord of the city, “Verily our need is not in this pair of youths,” and the third King added, “By Allah, indeed these two young men be fair of favour,” for that he had not seen the Prince who had taken his daughter’s Bird Philomelet. Presently the two asked the father saying, “Thou, is there by thee no issue other than these two?” and said he, “Yes, I have a son, but I have cast him out and I have placed his mother amongst the handmaids of the kitchen.” “Send to fetch him,” quoth they; so he dispatched a messenger to bring him into the presence. And he came, withal he was without any finery of dress; but as soon as the two damsels saw him they communed concerning him and he inclined to them and went into their pavilion, when they rose to him and threw their arms round his neck and kissed him between his eyes. Hereupon the mistress of the Bird said to the two others, “Be this he?” and said they, “Yes;” so she also arose and kissed his hand. But when he had finished greeting them he at once went forth to the assembled Kings, who stood up in honour to him and welcomed him and greeted him; and when his father saw that case he wondered with great wonderment. Then the youth took seat afar from his brothers and addressed them, saying, “Which of the twain was first to take the necklace?” And they held their peace. He resumed speech and said to them, “Which of you killed the Lion and which of you slew the Elephant and which of you embraved his heart and going into the bower of the august damsel, daughter to this Sultan, carried off her Bird Philomelet?” But they answered him never a syllable and were far from offering a reply. So he resumed, “Wherefore did you fall upon me and beat me and take away the Enchanting Bird, when I was able to slay you both? Yet to everything is its own time and this my father had banished me and banished my mother nor did he give her aught of what became her.” Saying these words the youth fell upon his two brethren with his sword and striking a single stroke he slew the twain, after which he would have assaulted his sire, and put him to death. However the three Kings forbade him and presently he whose daughter owned the Bird put an end to this by insisting upon the marriage-tie with him being tied. So he went in unto her that very night and the three damsels became his acknowledged spouses. After this his father gave command that his mother be admitted into the Palace and he honoured her and banished the parents of his two elder sons for he was assured that their cadet had done such derring-do by slaying the Lion and the Elephant and by bringing into the presence Philomelet the Enchanting Bird and he was certified that the deed had been done by none other. So he set apart a palace for the young Prince and his three Princesses and he gave him a commandment and their joys ever increased. And lastly the three Kings ceased not abiding in that place for forty days after which they devised their departure. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the three Kings desired, one and all of them, to depart and return to their countries and their capitals; and their son-in-law presented them with gifts and rarities, whereupon they blessed him and went their ways. After this the young Prince, who had become Sovran and Sultan, took seat upon the throne of his realm and by the reign he was obeyed and the servants of Allah for him prayed. Presently on a day of the days he inclined to the hunt and the chase, so he went off with his suite till they found themselves in the middle of the wildest of wolds where the ruler came upon an underground cavern. He proposed to enter therein, when his followers prevented him and behold, a man came to him from the desert showing the signs of wayfare and carrying a somewhat of water and victual and his garments were all threadbare. The King enquired of him saying, “Whence hast thou come and wither art thou going?” and the other replied, “We be three in this antre who have fled our country; and whenever we require aught of meat and drink, one of us fareth forth to fetch what will suffice us of provision for ten days.” “And what is the cause of your flying your native land?” asked the King, and the other answered, “Verily our tale is wondrous and our adventures are joyous and marvellous.” Hereupon quoth the King, “Wallahi, we will not quit this spot till such time as we shall have heard your histories; and let each one of you three recount to us what befell him, so that we hear it from his own mouth.” Hereupon the King commanded sundry of his suite to set forth home and the rest to abide beside him; and he sent a Chamberlain of the Chamberlains that he might go bring from the city somewhat of victual and water and wax candles and all the case required, saying the while to himself, “Verily the hearing of histories is better than hunting and birding, for haply they may solace and gladden the hearts of men.”323 So the Chamberlain went forth and, after an absence of an hour or so he returned bringing all the King had commanded; upon which he and the suite brought in the Larrikin324 together with his two companions until they led them to the presence and seated the three together. All this while none of the vagabonds knew that the personage before them was King of the city. So they fell to conversing until the next night came on when the Sovran bade them tell their tales of themselves and what had befallen each and every of them. They replied, “Hearkening and obedience;” and the foremost of them began to recite the
305 In the next “Rísah,” copyist’s error for “Ríshah” = a thread, a line: it afterwards proves to be an ornament for a falcon’s neck. [I cannot bring myself to adopt her the explanation of “Ríshah” as a string instead of its usual meaning of “feather,” “plume.” My reasons are the following: 1. The youth sets it upon his head; that is, I suppose, his cap, or whatever his head-gear may be, which seems a more appropriate place for a feather than for a necklace. 2. Further on, Night cdxxx., it is said that the Prince left the residence of his second spouse in search (talíb) of the city of the bird. If the word “Ríshah,” which, in the signification of thread, is Persian, had been sufficiently familiar to an Arab to suggest, as a matter of course, a bird’s necklace, and hence the bird itself, we would probably find a trace of this particular meaning, if not in other Arabic books, at least in Persian writers or dictionaries; but here the word “Ríshah,” by some pronounced “Reshah” with the Yá majhúl, never occurs in connection with jewels; it means fringe, filament, fibre. On the other hand, the suggestion of the bird presents itself quite naturally at the sight of the feather. 3. Ib. p. 210 the youth requests the old man to tell him concerning the “Tayrah allazí Rísh-há (not Rishat-há) min Ma’ádin,” which, I believe, can only be rendered by: the bird whose plumage is of precious stones. The “Ríshah” itself was said to be ”min Zumurrud wa Lúlú,” of emeralds and pearls; and the cage will be “min Ma’ádin wa Lúlú,” of precious stones and pearls, in all which cases the use of the preposition “min” points more particularly to the material of which the objects are wrought than the mere Izáfah. The wonderfulness of the bird seems therefore rather to consist in his jewelled plumage than the gift of speech or other enchanting qualities, and I would take it for one of those costly toys, in imitation of trees and animals, in which Eastern princes rejoice, and of which we read so many descriptions, not only in books of fiction, but even in historical works. If it were a live-bird of the other kind, he would probably have put in his word to expose the false brothers of the Prince. — St.]
306 This is conjectural: the text has a correction which is hardly legible. [I read: “Wa lákin hú ajmalu min-hum bi-jamálin mufritin, lakinnahu matrúdun hú wa ummu-hu” = “and yet he was more beautiful than they with surpassing beauty, but he was an outcast, he and his mother,” as an explanation, by way of parenthesis, for their daring to treat him so shamefully. — St.]
307 The venerable myth of Andromeda and Perseus (who is Horus in disguise) brought down to Saint George (his latest descendant), the Dragon (Typhon) and the fair Saba in the “Seven Champions of Christendom.” See my friend M. Clermont Ganneau’s Horus et Saint-Georges; Mr. J. R. Anderson’s “Saint Mark’s Rest; the Place of Dragons;” and my “Book of the Sword,” chapt. ix.
308 i.e. there was a great movement and confusion.
309 [In the text ‘Afár, a word frequently joined with “Ghubár,” dust, for the sake of emphasis; hence we will find in Night ccccxxix. the verb “yu’affiru,” he was raising a dust-cloud. — St.]
310 Upon the subject of “throwing the kerchief” see vol. vi. 285. Here it is done simply as a previously concerted signal of recognition.
311 In text “‘Alá Yadín;” for which vulgarism see vol. iii. 51.
312 Elephants are usually, as Cuvier said of the (Christian) “Devil” after a look at his horns and hoofs, vegetarians.
313 [The MS. has “yughaffiru wa yuzaghdimu.” The former stands probably for “yu’-affíru,” for which see supra p. 205, note 2. The writing is, however, so indistinct that possibly “yufaghghiru” is intended, which means he opened his mouth wide. “Yuzaghdimu” is one of those quadriliterals which are formed by blending two triliterals in one verb, in order to intensify the idea. “Zaghada” and “Zaghama” mean both “he roared,” more especially applied to a camel, and by joining the “d” of the one with the “m” of the other, we obtain “Zaghdama,” he roared fiercely. — St.]
314 [Sára’a-hu wa láwa’a-hu = he rushed upon him and worried him. The root law’ means to enfeeble, render sick, especially applied to love-sickness (Lau’ah). The present 3rd form is rarely used, but here and in a later passage, Night cdxlv., the context bears out the sense of harassing. — St.]
315 In text “Zaghárit” plur. of Zaghrútah: see vol. ii. p. 80.
316 [Yá walad al-Halál. I would translate: “O! son of a lawful wedlock,” simply meaning that he takes him to be a decent fellow, not a scamp or Walad al-Harám. — St.]
317 The repetitium is a sign of kindness and friendliness; see vol. vi. 370.
318 This Arabian “Sattár” corresponds passing well with “Jupiter Servator.”
319 “Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise.” Matt. Xxi. 16. The idea is not less Moslem than Christian.
320 [I read “Sarkhah adwat la-há al-Saráyah” = a cry to which the palace-women raised an echo, a cry re-echoed by the palace-women. “Adwá” is the fourth form of “Dawiya,” to hum or buzz, to produce an indistinct noise, and it is vulgarly used in the above sense, like the substantive “Dawi,” an echo. Al-Saráyah is perhaps only an Arabised form of the Persian Saráy, and the sentence might be, to which the palace resounded. — St.]
321 The Princess is not logical: on the other hand she may plead that she is right.
322 Arab. “Ma’lúmah,” which may also mean the “made known,” or “aforemention.”
323 A sensible remark which shows that the King did not belong to the order called by Mr. Matthew Arnold “Barbarians.”
324 In text: “Rajul Ja’ídí,” for which see supra p. 9.
Verily, O King, my tale is a rare and it is e’en as follows:— I had a mother of whose flocks the World had left her but a single kid, and we owned ne’er another. Presently we determined to sell it; and, having so done, we bought it with its price a young calf, which we brought up for a whole year till it grew fat and full-sized. Then my mother said to me, “Take yon calf and go sell it;” so I went forth with it to the Bazar, and I saw that not one was like it, when behold, a body of vagabonds,325 who numbered some forty, looked at the beast, and it pleased them; so they said one to other, “Let us carry this away and cut its throat and flay it.” Then one of them, as all were standing afar off, came near me and said, “O youth, wilt thou sell this kid?” and quoth I, “O my uncle, verily this is a calf and not a kid;” and the other rejoined, “Art thou blind? This is a kid.” Cried I, “A calf!” So he asked, “Wilt thou take from me a dollar?”326 and I answered, “Nay, O my uncle!” Thereupon he went away from me, and another came after him and said, “O youth, wilt thou sell this kid?” and said I, “This is a calf,” and quoth he “This is a kid,” and reviled me the while I held my peace. Again quoth he, “Wilt thou take for this a dollar?” but I was not satisfied therewith, and they ceased not to wrangle with me, one after other, each coming up and saying, “O youth, wilt thou sell this kid?” At last their Shaykh327 accosted me and cried, “Wilt thou sell it?” and I rejoined, “There is no Majesty save in Allah! I will sell it on one condition, to wit, that I take from thee its tail.” Replied to me328 the Shaykh of the Vagabonds, “Thou shalt take the tail when we have slaughtered it;” then, paying me a dollar, he led off the beast, and returned to his own folk. Presently they killed it and flayed it, when I took the tail and hastened back to my mother. She said to me, “Hast thou sold the calf?” and said I, “Yes, I have sold it, and have taken a dollar and the calf’s tail.” “And what wilt thou do for the tail?” asked she; and I answered, “I will do him brown329 who took it from me saying, This is a kid, and I will serve him a sleight which shall get out of him to its price ten times one hundred.”330 With these words I arose and, taking the tail, I flayed it and studded it with nails and bits of glass, and I asked of my mother a maiden’s dress, which she brought me; and presently I covered my face with a Burka’-veil331 and I adorned me and perfumed myself and I girded my loins underneath my clothes with the tail of that calf. Then went I forth like a virgin girl till I reached the barrack of those blackguards, when I found that they had cooked the whole calf and naught of it remained undressed, and they had prepared to spread the table and were about sitting downt o supper. Then I went332 in to them and said, “The Peace be upon you,” and they rose to me in a body of their joy, and returned my greetings and said, “By Allah, our night is a white one.” So I entered to them and supped with them, and they all inclined to me, and their mustachios wagged in token that they would disport with me. But when darkness came on they said, “This night is for our Shaykh, but after this each one of us shall take her for his own night."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the vagabonds said, “Each one of us shall take her to him for a night after the Shaykh, “and so saying they left me and went their ways. Then the Chief fell to chatting with me and he was in high spirits, when suddenly my glance fell upon a rope hanging from the ceiling of that barrack and I cried, “O Shaykh!” whereto he replied, “Yes, O my lady and light of mine eyes.” Said I to him, “What may be this cord thus suspended?” and said he, “This is called ‘hanging-gear’; and, when any of ours requireth chastisement from my associates, we hoist him up by this rope and we bash him.” Quoth I, “Hang me up and let me see how ’tis done,” but quoth he, “Heaven forfend, O my lady! I will hang myself in thy stead and thou shalt look upon me.” Hereat he arose and tied himself tight and cried, “Haul up this rope and make it fast in such a place!” I did his bidding and bound it right firmly and left him hanging in the air. Presently he cried, “Let go the cord,” and replied I, “O Shaykh, first let me enoy the spectacle.” Then I stripped him of all his clothing and drawing forth the calf’s tail which was studded with nails and glass splinters, I said to him, “O Shaykh, is this the tail of a kid or of a calf?” “What woman art thou?” asked he, and I answered, “I am the owner of the calf;” and then, tucking up my two sleeves to the elbows, I beat him till I stripped him of his skin and he lost his senses and he had no breath wherewith to speak. Thereupon I arose and fell to searching the hall, where I found sundry valuables amongst which was a box, so I opened it and came upon three hundred gold pieces and a store of reals333 and silverlings and jadids.334 I laid hands on the whole of it and bore off somewhat of the most sumptuous dresses; and, having wrapped them all up in a sheet, I carried them away; and about dawn I went in to my mother and cried, “Take thee to the price of the calf, which I have received from the purchaser.” But when the day was high and the sun waxed hot the whole troop of the Shaykh collected and said, “Verily our Elder hath slept till the undurn hour;” and one of them declared, “’Tis from enjoying so much pleasure and luxury, he and the girl; and doubtless their night hath been a white335 night.” So they ceased not talking together and each of them had his word until the noon was high, when certain of them said, “Come with us and let us rouse him from sleep:” and, saying thus, all went to the door of the hall and opened it. Hereupon they found their Shaykh hanging up and his body bleeding profusely;336 so they asked him, “What hath befallen thee?” and he answered in a weak voice, “Verily that girl is no girl at all, but she is the youth who owned the calf.” They replied, “By Allah, there is no help but that we seize him and slay him;” whereto the Edler said, “Loose me and lead me to the Hammam that I may wash clean my skin of all this blood.” Then they let him down and after mounting him upon a donkey they bore him to the baths. Hereat I went to the slaughterhouse and and covered my body with bullocks’ blood and stuck to it pledgets of cotton so that I became like one sorely diseased and I repaired to the same Hammam propped upon a staff and required admittance. They refused me saying, “The Shaykh of the Vagabonds is now in the baths nor may anyone go in to him.” Quoth I to them, “I am a man with a malady,” whereto quoth one of them, “This is a poor wight, so let him come within.” Accordingly I entered and found the Chief alone, whereupon I drew forth the tail and asked him, “O Shaykh, is this the tail of a calf or a kid?” “Who art thou?” said he, and I said, “I am the owner of the calf;” after which I fell to beating him with the tail until his breath was clean gone. Then I left him and went forth from the Hamam by another door so as to avoid his followers. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth, the owner of the calf, after beating the Shaykh of the Vagabonds with a sore bashing within the Bath went forth by the back door. Whereupon (continued the Larrikin) the followers of the Chief went in and they found him at his last breath and moaning from the excess of blows. Quoth they, “What is the matter with thee?” and quoth he, “That man with a malady who came into the Hammam is none other but the owner of the calf and he hath killed me.” So they took him up and carried him from the place and he said to them, “Do ye bear me outside the city and set up for me a tent and lay me therein, after which do ye gather round about me and never leave me at all.” Hereat they mounted him upon an ass and bore him to the place he described and, pitching a tent, set him therein and all sat around him. Presently the tidings reached me, whereupon I changed my clothes for a disguise and drew near the tent whereabouts I found a Badawi-man feeding his sheep. So I said to him, “O Badawi, take this ducat and draw near yonder tent and call aloud, saying, ‘I am the owner of the calf;’ after which make off with thy life for an they catch thee they will slay thee.” “By Allah,” quoth the Arab, “even if they rode their best mares none of them could come up with me!” So I took charge of the sheep while the Badawi approaching the tent cried in his loudest voice, “By Allah, I am the owner of the calf.” Hearing this the vagabonds sprang to their feet as one body and drew their weapons and rushed after the Badawi; but, when he had run some distance from the tent with all the men behind him, I went in and drawing from below my clothes the tail of the calf said, “O Shaykh, is this the tail of a calf or a kid?” The Elder asked, “Art thou not he who cried out, I am the owner of the calf?” and I answered, “No, I am not,” and came down upon him with the tail and beat him until he could no longer breathe. Then I took the properties belonging to his party and wrapping them in a sheet carried them off and quitting the place I went in to my mother and said to her, “Take them to the worth of the calf.” Now those who had run after the Badawi ceased not pursuing him, yet could none of them come up with him and when they were tired they returned from the chase and stinted not walking until they entered the tent. There they found the Shaykh breathless nor could he move save to make signs; so they sprinkled a little water upon his face; and the life returned to him and he said to them, “Verily the owner of the calf came to me and beat me till he killed me and the wight who cried, ‘I am the owner of the calf’ is an accomplice of his.” Thereupon all waxed furious and the Elder said to them, “Bear me home and give out that your Shakyh is deceased; after which do you bathe my body and carry me to the cemetery and bury me by night and next morning disinter me so that the owner of this calf may hear that I am dead and leave me in peace. Indeed as long as I continue in this condition he will devise for me device after device and some day will come in to me and kill me downright.” They did what their Shaykh bade them and began crying and keening and saying, “Verily our Chief is deceased,” so that the report was bruited abroad that the Shaykh of the Vagabonds had died. But I, the owner of the calf, said to myself, “By Allah, an he be dead, they will assuredly make for him some mourning ceremony.” Now when they had washed him and shrouded him and carried him out upon the bier, and were proceeding to the graveyard that they might bury him, and had reached half way to it, lo and behold! I joined the funeral train and suddenly walking under the coffin with a sharp packing-needle337 in hand — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable.” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that I walked under the bier packing-needle in hand, and thrust it into the Shaykh of the Vagabonds, whereat he cried out and sprang up and sat upright upon his shell.338 Now when the King heard this tale he laughed and was cheered and the Larrikin resumed:— By Allah, when I thrust the needle into him and he sat upright in his coffin all the folk fell to wondering and cried, “Verily the dead hath come to life.” Hereupon, O my lord, my fear waxed great and I said to myself, “All adventures are not like one another: haply the crown339 will recognise me and slay me.” So I went forth the city and came hither. Cried the King, “Of a truth, this tale is marvellous;” when the second Larrikin exclaimed, “By Allah, O my lord, my tale is rarer and stranger than this, for indeed therein I did deeds worthy of the Jinn-mad and amongst the many tricks that came from my hand I died and was buried and I devised a device whereby they drew me from my tomb.” Quoth the King, “Walláhi, if thy tale be more wondrous than that which forewent it I needs must reward thee with somewhat. But now tell us of what betided thee.” So the man began to relate the
325 Arab. “Fidawiyah,” sing. “Fidáwi” = lit. one who gives his life to a noble cause, a forlorn hope, esp. applied to the Ismai’liyah race, disciples of the “Assassin” Hasan-i-Sabáh. See De Sacy, “Mémoire sur les Assassins Mém. de l’Institut,” etc. iv. 7 et seqq. Hence perhaps a castaway, a “perdido,” one careless of his life. I suspect, however, that is is an Egyptianised form of the Pers. “Fidá‘i” = a robber, a murderer. The Lat. Catalogue prefers “Sicarius” which here cannot be the meaning.
326 Arab. “Kirsh,” pop. “Girsh.”
327 I have noticed that there is a Shaykh or head of the Guild, even for thieves, in most Moslem capitals. See vol. vi. 204.
328 Here is the normal enallage of persons, “luh” = to him for “lí” = to me.
329 In text “Na’mil ma’allazí, etc. . . . makídah.” I have attempted to preserve the idiom.
330 [In the MS. “al-‘Ashrah Miah,” which, I think, can scarcely be translated by “ten times one hundred.” If Miah were dependent on al-‘Ashrah, the latter could not have the article. I propose therefore to render “one hundred for the (i.e. every) ten” = tenfold. — St.]
331 For this “nosebag,” see vols. Ii. 52, and vi. 151, 192.
332 [Until here the change fromt eh first person into the third, as pointed out in note 2, has been kept up in the MS. —“He reached the barracks,” “he found,” etc. Now suddenly the gender changes as well, and the tale continues: “And lo, the girl went to them and said,” etc. etc. This looseness of style may, in the mouth of an Eastern Ráwí, have an additional dramatic charm for his more eager than critical audience; but it would be intolerable to European readers. Sir Richard has, therefore, very properly substituted the first person all through. — St.]
333 “Riyál” is from the Span. “Real” = royal (coin): in Egypt it was so named by order of Ali Bey, the Mameluke, in A.H. 1183 (A.D. 1771-72) and it was worth ninety Faddahs = 5 2/5d. The word, however, is still applied to the dollar proper (Maria Theresa), to the Riyál Fransá or five-france piece and to the Span. pillar dollar: the latter is also nicknamed ‘Abu Madfa’” Father of a Cannon (the columns being mistaken for cannons); also the Abú Tákah (Father of a Window), whence we obtaint he Europeanised “Patacco” (see Lane, Appendix ii.) and “Pataca,” which Littré confounds with the “Patard” and of which he ignores the origin.
334 See The Nights, vol. x. 12.
335 i.e. “pleasant,” “enjoyable”; see “White as milk” opposed to “black as mud,” etc., vol. iv. 140. Here it is after a fashion synonymous with the French nuit blanche.
336 [The MS. seems here to read “wa jasad-hu yuhazdimu,” (thus at least the word, would have to be vocalised if it were a quadrilateral verbal form), and of this I cannot make out any sense. I suspect the final syllable is meant for “Dam,” blood, of which a few lines lower down the plural “Dimá” occurs. Reamins to account for the characters immediately preceding it. I think that either the upper dot of the Arabic belongs to the first radical instead of the second, reading “yukhirru,” as the fourth or causative form of “kharra yakhurru,” to flow, to ripple, to purl; or that the two dots beneath are to be divided between the first two characters, reading “bajaza.” The latter, it is true, is no dictionary word, but we have found supra p. 176, “muhandiz” for “muhandis,” so here “bajaza” may stand for “bajasa” = gushed forth, used intransitively and transitively. In either case the translation would be “his body was emitting blood freely."-St.]
337 The MS. here is hardly intelligible but the sense shows the word to be “Misallah” (plur. “Misáll”) = a large needle for sewing canvas, &c. In Egypt the usual pronunciation is “Musallah,” hence the vulgar name of Cleopatra’s needle “Musallat Far’aun” (of Pharaoh) the two terms contending for which shall be the more absurd. I may note that Commander Gorridge, the distinguished officer of the U.S. Navy who safely and easily carried the “Needle” to New York after the English had made a prodigious mess with their obelisk, showed me upon the freshly uncovered base of the pillar the most distinct intaglio representations of masonic implements, the plumb-line, the square, the compass, and so forth. These, however, I attributed to masonry as the craft, to the guild; he to Freemasonry, which in my belief was unknown to the Greeks and Romans, and is never mentioned in history before the eight Crusades (A.D. 1096-1270). The practices and procedure were evidently borrowed from the various Vehms and secret societies which then influenced the Moslem world, and our modern lodges have strictly preserved in the “Architect of the Universe,” Arian and Moslem Unitarianism as opposed to Athanasian and Christian Tritheism; they admit the Jew and the Mussulman as apprentices, but they refuse the Hindu and the Pagan. It seems now the fashion to run down the mystic charities of the brethren are still active, and the society still takes an active part in politics throughout the East. As the late Pope Pius IX. (fitly nicknamed “Pio no-no”), a free mason himself, forbade Freemasonry to his church because a secret society is incompatible with oral confession (and priestcraft tolerates only its own mysteries), and made excommunication the penalty, the French lodges have dwindled away and the English have thriven upon their decay, thus enlisting a host of neophytes who, when the struggle shall come on, may lend excellent aid.
338 The “Janázah” or bier, is often made of planks loosely nailed or pegged together into a stretcher or platform, and it would be easy to thrust a skewer between the joints. I may remind the reader that “Janázah” = a bier with a corpse thereon (vol. ii. 46), whereas the “Sarír” is the same when unburdened, and the “Na’ash” is a box like our coffin, but open at the tip.
339 [In the Arab. Text “They will recognise me,” which I would rather refer to the Vagabonds than to the crowd, as the latter merely cries wonder at the resuscitation, without apparently troubling much about the wonder-worker. — St.]
I was living, O my lord, under the same roof with my father’s wife and I had with me some bundles of sesame cobs, but no great quantity, which I stored in a little basket hanging up in the great ceiling-vault of our house. Now one day of the days a party of merchants, numbering five or so, together with their head man, came to our village and began asking for sesame; and they happened to meet me on the road hard by our place, so they put me the same question. I asked them, “Do you want much of it?” and they answered, “We require340 about an hundred ardabbs.”341 Quoth I, “By me is a large quantity thereof;” and quoth they, “Have the kindness to show us the muster;”342 whereto I rejoined, “Upon the head and the eye!” Hereat I led them into the room wherein the basket was suspended with a few cobs of sesame (there being none other) and I went up by an outside staircase to the top of the vault, which I pierced, and putting forth my hand, took up a palm-full and therewith returned to them and showed the specimen. They saw that the sesame was clean grain, and said one to other, “This house is naught but full to the vault,343 for had there been a small quantity there he would have opened the door and shown us the heaps.” Hereupon I conversed with them and settled the price and they paid me as earnest money for an hundred ardabbs of sesame six hundred reals. I took the coin and gave it to the wife of my father, saying to her, “Cook for us a supper that shall be toothsome.” Then I slaughtered for her five chickens and charged her that, after she should have cooked the supper, she must prepare for us a pot of Baysárah344 which must be slab and thick. She did as I bade her and I returned to the merchants and invited them to sup with us and night in our house. Now when sunset time came I brought them in for the evening meal and they supped and were cheered, and as soon as the hour for night-prayer had passed I spread for them sleeping-gear and said to them, “O our guests, be careful of yourselves lest the wind come forth from your bellies, for with me dwelleth the wife of my father, who disgusteth fizzles and who dieth if she hear a fart.” After this they slept soundly from the stress of their fatigue and were overwhelmed with slumber; but when it was midnight, I took the pot of Baysarah and approached them as they still slumbered and I besmeared345 their backsides with the Baysarah and returned and slept until dawn of day in my own stead hard beside them. At this time all five were awake, and as each one arose before his companions he sensed a somewhat soft below him and putting forth his hand felt his bum bewrayed346 with the stuff, and said to his neighbour, “Ho, such an one, I have skited!” and the other said, “We have skited.” But when I heard this, O my lord, I arose forthwith and cried out saying, “Haste ye to my help, O ye folk, for these guests have killed my father’s wife."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the second Larrikin to the King:— O my lord, I cried out saying, “The guests have slain the wife of my father.” But when they heard me the merchants arose and ran away, each following other, so I rushed after them, shouting aloud, “Ye have killed my father’s wife,” till such time as they had disappeared from sight. Then said I to myself, “Inshallah! they will never more come back.” But after they had disappeared for a whole year they returned and demanded their coin, to wit, six hundred reals; and I, when the tidings reached me, feigned myself dead and ordered my father’s wife to bury me in the cemetery and I took to my grave a portion of charcoal and a branding-iron. Now when the five merchants came and asked after me the folk said, “He hath deceased and they have graved him in his grave;” whereupon the creditors cried, “By Allah, there is no help but that we go and piss upon his fosse.” Now I had made a crevice in the tomb347 and I had lighted the charcoal and I had placed the branding-iron ready till it became red hot and, when they came to piddle upon my grave, I took the iron and branded their hinder cheeks with sore branding, and this I did to one and all till the five had suffered in the flesh. Presently they departed to their own country, when my father’s wife came and opened the tomb and drew me forth and we returned together to our home. After a time, however, the news reached these merchants in their towns that I was living and hearty, so they came once more to our village and demanded of the Governor that I be given up to them. So the rulers sent for and summoned me, but when the creditors made a claim upon me for six hundred reals, I said to the Governor, “O my lord, verily these five fellows were slaves to my sire in bygone-times.” Quoth the ruler, “Were ye then in sooth chattels to his sire?” and said they to me, “Thou liest!” Upon this I rejoined, “Bare their bodies; and, if thou find a mark thereupon, they be my father’s serviles, and if thou find no sign then are my words false.” So they examined them and they found upon the rumps of the five, marks of the branding-iron, and the Governor said, “By Allah, in good sooth he hath told the truth and you five are the chattels of his father.” Hereupon began dispute and debate between us, nor could they contrive aught to escape from me until they paid me three hundred reals in addition to what I had before of them. When the Sultan heard these words from the Larrikin he fell to wondering and laughing at what the wight had done and he said, “By Allah, verily thy deed is the deed of a vagabond who is a past-master in fraud.” Then the third Larrikin spoke and said, “By Allah, in good sooth my story is more marvellous and wondrous than the tales of this twain, for that none (methinketh) save I could have done aught of the kind.” The King asked him, “And what may be thy story?” so he began to relate
340 [Ar. “na’tázu,” viii. form of ‘áza = it escaped, was missing, lacked, hence the meaning of this form, “we are in want of,” “we need."— St.]
341 For the “Ardabb” (prop. “Irdabb”) = five bushels: see vol. i. 263.
342 [In the MS. “‘Ayyinah,” probably a mis-reading for “‘Ayniyyah” = a sample, pattern. — St.]
343 In text “Kubbah” = vault, cupola, the dome of unbaked brick upon peasants’ houses in parts of Egypt and Syria, where wood for the “Sat’h” or flat roof is scarce. The household granary is in the garret, from which the base of the dome springs, and the “expense-magazines” consist of huge standing coffers of wattle and dab propped against the outside walls of the house.
344 Gen. “Baysár” or “Faysár,” = beans cooked in honey and milk. See retro, Night ccclxxxviii., for its laxative properties.
345 [In the MS. “barbastu,” with the dental instead of the palatal sibilant (Sín instead of Sád). Spelled in the former way the verb “barbasa” means, he sought, looked for, and is therefore out of place here. Spelled in the second manner, it signifies literally, he watered the ground abundantly. Presently we shall find the passive participle “mubarbasah” in the feminine, because referring to the noun “Tíz” = anus, which, like its synonym, “1st,” professes the female gender. — St.]
346 [In Ar. “Mubarbasah,” for which see the preceding note. — St.]
347 The Moslem’s tomb is an arched vault of plastered brick, large enough for a man to sit up at ease and answer the Questioning Angels; and the earth must not touch the corpse as it is supposed to cause torture. In the graves of the poorer classes a niche (lahad) offsets from the fosse and is rudely roofed with palm-fronds and thatch. The trick played in the text is therefore easy; see Lane’s illustration M.E. chapt. xviii. The reader will not forget that all Moslems make water squatting upon their hunkers ina position hardly possible to an untrained European: see vol. i. 259.
O my lord, I was once an owner of herds whereof naught remained to me but a single bull well advanced in years and unhealthy of flesh and of hide; and when I sought to sell him to the butchers none was willing to buy him of me, nor even to accept him as a gift. So I was disgusted with the beast and with the idea of eating him; and, as he could not be used either to grind348 or to plough, I led him into a great courtyard, where I slaughtered him and stripped off his hide. Then I cut the flesh into bittocks — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the whilome owner of the bull said to the King:— O my lord, I cut his flesh into bittocks and went forth and cried a loud upon the dogs of the quarter, when they all gathered together nor did one remain behind. Then I caused them to enter the court and having bolted the door gave to each dog a bit of the meat weighing half a pound.349 So all ate and were filled, after which I shut them up in the house which was large, for a space of three days when, behold, the folk came seeking their tykes and crying, “Whither can the curs have gone?” So I related how I had locked them up within the house and hereupon each man who had a hound came and took it away. Then quoth I, “Thy dog hath eaten a full pound of flesh,” and I took from each owner six faddahs and let him have his beast until I had recovered for the meat of that bull a sum of two thousand faddahs.350 At last of these dogs there remained to me but one unclaimed and he had only a single eye and no owner. So I took up a staff and beat him and he ran away and I ran after him to catch him until he came upon a house with the door open and rushed within. Now by the decree of the Decreer it so happened that the mistress of the house had a man living with her who was one-eyed and I ran in and said to her, “Bring out the one-eyed that is with thee,” meaning the dog. But when the house mistress heard me say, “Bring out the one-eyed,” she fancied that I spoke of her mate, so knowing naught about the matter of the tyke she came up to me and cried, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, do thou veil what Allah hath veiled and rend not our reputation and deal not disgrace to us;”351 presently adding, “Take this bangle from me and betray us not.” So I took it and left her and went my ways, after which she returned to the house and her heart was heaving and she found that her man had been in like case ever since he heard me say, “Bring out the one-eyed.” So I went away carrying off the bracelet and fared homeward. But when she looked about the room, lo and behold! she espied the one-eyed dog lying in a corner and, as soon as she caught sight of him, she was certified that I had alluded to the beast. So she buffeted her face and regretted the loss of her bangle and following me she came up and said to me, “O my lord, I have found the one-eyed dog, so do thou return with me and take him; “whereat I had pity upon the woman and restored to her the ornament. However, when this had befallen me, fear possessed my heart lest she denounce me, and I went away from my village and came to this place where the three of us forgathered and have lived ever since. When the King had given ear to this story he was cheered and said, “By Allah, verily the adventures of you three are wondrous, but my desire of you is to know if any of you have heard aught of the histories of bygone Sultans; and, if so, let him relate them to me. First, however, I must take you into the city that you may enjoy your rest.” “O my lord,” quoth they, “who art thou of the citizens?” and quoth he, “I am the King of this country, and the cause of my coming hither was my design to hunt and chase and the finding you here hath diverted me therefrom.” But when they heard his words, they forthwith rose to their feet and did him obeisance saying, “Hearing and obeying,” after which the three repaired with him to the city. Here the King commanded that they set apart for them an apartment and appointed to them rations of meat and drink and invested them with robes of honour; and they remained in company one with other till a certain night of the nights when the Sultan summoned them and they made act of presence between his hands and the season was after the King had prayed the Isha352 prayers. So he said to them, “I require that each and every of you who knoweth an history of the Kings of yore shall relate it to me,” whereat said one of the four, “I have by me such a tale.” Quoth the King, “Then tell it to us;” when the first Larrikin began to relate the
348 The bull being used in the East to turn the mill and the water-wheel; vol. i. 16.
349 In text “Ratl.” See vol. iv. 124.
350 About 1s. 2d.
351 The man was therefore in hiding for some crime. [The MS. has “lá tafzah-ní” = Do not rend my reputation, etc. I would, therefore, translate “Sáhib-há” by “her lover,” and suggest that the crime in question is simply what the French call “conversation criminelle."— St.]
352 The “‘Ishá"-prayer (called in Egypt “‘Eshè") consists of ten “Ruka’át” = bows or inclinations of the body (not “of the head” as Lane has it, M.E. chapt. iii.): of these four are “Sunnah” = traditional or customary (of the Prophet), four are Farz (divinely appointed i.e. by the Koran) and two again Sunnah. The hour is nightfall when the evening has closed in with some minor distinctions, e.g. the Hanafí waits till the whiteness and the red gleam in the west (“Al-Shafak al-ahmar”) have wholly disappeared, and the other three orthodox only till the ruddy light has waned. The object of avoiding sundowntide (and sunrise equally) was to distinguish these hours of orisons from those of the Guebres and other faiths which venerate, or are supposed to venerate, the sun.
There was in days of yore a King in the land of Al-Hind, who reigned over wide dominions (and praise be to Him who ruleth the worlds material and spiritual!), but this Sultan had nor daughter nor son. So once upon a time he took thought and said, “Glory to Thee! no god is there save Thyself, O Lord; withal Thou hast not vouchsafed to me a child either boy or girl.” On the next day he arose a-morn wholly clad in clothes of crimson hue,354— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King of Al-Hind arose a-morn wholly clad in clothes of crimson hue, and the Wazir, coming into the Divan, found him in such case. So he salam’d to him and blessed him with the blessing due to Caliphs, and said to him, “O King of the Age, doth aught irk thee that thou art robed in red?” whereto he replied, “O Wazir, I have risen with my heart grips hard.” Said the other, “Go into thy treasury of moneys and jewels and turn over thy precious ores, that thy sorrow be dispersed.” But said the Sultan, “O Wazir, verily all this world is a transitory, and naught remaineth to any save to seek the face of Allah the Beneficent: withal the like of me may never more escape from cark and care, seeing that I have lived for this length of time and that I have not been blessed with or son or daughter, for verily children are the ornament of the world.” Hereupon a wight dark of hue, which was a Takruri355 by birth, suddenly appeared before the Sultan and standing between his hands said to him, “O King of the Age, I have by me certain medicinal roots the bequeathal of my forbears and I have heard that thou hast no issue; so an thou eat somewhat thereof haply shall they gladden thy heart.” “Where be these simples?” cried the King, whereat the Takruri man drew forth a bag and brought out from it somewhat that resembled a confection and gave it to him with due injunctions. So when it was night-time the Sultan ate somewhat of it and then slept with his wife who, by the Omnipotence of Allah Almighty, conceived of him that very time. Finding her pregnant the King was rejoiced thereat and fell to distributing alms to the Fakirs and the mesquin and the widows and the orphans, and this continued till the days of his Queen’s pregnancy were completed. Then she bare a man-child fair of face and form, which event caused the King perfect joy and complete; and on that day when the boy was named Mohammed, Son of the Sultan,356 he scattered full half his treasury amongst the lieges. Then he bade bring for the babe wet-nurses who suckled him until milktime ended, when they weaned him, after which he grew every day in strength and stature till his age reached his sixth year. Hereupon his father appointed for him a Divine to teach him reading and writing and the Koran and all the sciences, which he mastered when his years numbered twelve. And after this he took to mounting horses and learning to shoot with shafts and to hit the mark, up to the time when he became a knight who surpassed all other knights. Now one day of the days Prince Mohammed rode off a-hunting, as was his wont, when lo and behold! he beheld a fowl with green plumage wheeling around him in circles and rocketing in the air and seeing this he was desirous to bring it down with an arrow. But he found this impossible so he ceased not following the quarry with intent to catch it but again he failed and it flew away from his ken; whereat he was sore vexed and he said to himself, “Needs must I seize this bird,” and he kept swerving to the right and the left in order to catch sight of it but he saw it not. This endured until the end of day when he returned to the city and sought his father and his mother, and when they looked upon him they found his case changed and they asked him concerning his condition, so he related to them all about the bird and they said to him, “O our son, O Mohammed, verily the creations of Allah be curious and how many fowls are like unto this, nay even more wondrous.” Cried he, “Unless I catch her357 I will wholly give up eating.” Now when morning dawned he mounted according to his custom and again went forth to the chase; and presently he pushed into the middle of the desert when suddenly he saw the bird flying in air and he pushed his horse to speed beneath her and shot at her a shaft with the intent to make her his prey, but again was unable to kill the bird. He persisted in the chase from sunrise until sundown when he was tired and his horse was aweary, so he turned him round purposing a return city-wards, when behold, he was met in the middle of the road by an elderly man who said to him, “O son of the Sultan, in very sooth thou art fatigued and on like wise is thy steed.” The Prince replied, “Yes,” and the Elder asked him, “What is the cause thereof?” Accordingly he told him all anent the bird and the Shaykh replied to him, “O my son, an thou absent thyself and ride for a whole year in pursuit of yonder fowl thou wilt never be able to take her; and, O my child, where is this bird!358 I will now inform thee that in a City of the Islands hight of Camphor there is a garden wide of sides wherein are many of such fowls and far fairer than this, and of them some can sing and others can speak with human speech; but, O my son, thou art unable to reach that city. However, if thou leave this bird and seek another of the same kind, haply I can show thee one and thou wilt not weary thyself any more.” When Mohammed, Son of the Sultan, heard these words from the Elder he cried, “By Allah, ’tis not possible but that I travel to that city.” Hereupon he left the Shaykh and returned to his own home, but his heart was engrossed with the Capital of the Camphor Islands, and when he went in to his sire, his case was troubled. The father asked him thereof and he related to him what the oldster had said. “O my son,” quoth the sire, “cast out this accident from thy heart and weary not thy soul, inasmuch as whoso would seek an object he cannot obtain, shall destroy his own life for the sake thereof and furthermore he shall fail of his gain. Better therefore thou set thy heart at rest359 and weary thyself no more.” Quoth the Son, “Walláahi, O my sire, verily my heart is hung to yonder fowl and specially to the words of the Elder; nor is it possible to me to sit at home until I shall have reached the city of the Camphor Islands and I shall have gazed upon the gardens wherein such fowls do wone.” Quoth his father, “But why, O my child, wouldst thou deprive us of looking upon thee?” And quoth the son, “There is no help but that I travel."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Mohammed the Son of the Sultan cried, “Needs must I travel, otherwise I will slay myself.” “There is no Majesty and there is no Might,” quoth the father, “save in Allah the Glorious, the Great; and saith the old saw, ‘The chick is unsatisfied till the crow see it and carry it off.’”360 Thereupon the King gave orders to get ready provisions and other matters required for the Prince’s wayfare, and he sent with him an escort of friends and servants, after which the youth took leave of his father and mother and he with his many set forth seeking the Capital of the Camphor Islands. He ceased not travelling for the space of an entire month till he arrived at a place wherein three highways forked, and he saw at the junction a huge rock whereon were written three lines. Now the first read, “This is the road of safe chance,” and the second, “This is the way of repentance;” and the third, “This is the path whereon whoso paceth shall return nevermore.” When the Prince perused these inscriptions he said to himself, “I will tread the path whereon whoso paceth shall nevermore return.” Then he put his trust in Allah, and he travelled over that way for a space of days a score, when suddenly he came upon a city deserted and desolate, nor was there a single created thing therein and it was utterly in ruins. So he alighted beside it and, as a flock of sheep accompanied his suite, he bade slaughter five lambs and commanded the cooks to prepare of them delicate dishes and to roast one of them whole and entire. They did his bidding, and when the meats were cooked he ordered the trays be spread in that site and, as soon as all was done to his satisfaction, he purposed sitting down to food, he and his host, when suddenly an ‘Aun361 appeared coming from the ruined city. But when Prince Mohammed beheld him he rose to him in honour saying, “Welcome and fair welcome to him who of ‘Auns is the head, and to the brethren friend true-bred,362 and the Haunter of this stead;” and he satisfied him with the eloquence of his tongue and the elegance of his speech. Now this ‘Aun had hair that overhung either eye and fell upon his shoulders, so the Prince brought out his scissors363 and trimmed his locks clearing them away from his face, and he pared his nails which were like talons, and finally let bathe his body with warm water. Then he served up to him the barbecue of lamb which he caused to be roasted whole for the use of the Jinni and bade place it upon the tray, so the Haunter ate with the travellers and was cheered by the Prince’s kindness and said to him, “By Allah, O my lord Mohammed, O thou Son of the Sultan, I was predestined to meet thee in this place but now let me know what may be thy need.” Accordingly the youth informed him of the city of the Camphor Islands and of the garden containing the fowls which he fared to seek, and of his design in wayfaring thither to bring some of them away with him. But when the ‘Aun heard from him these words, he said to him, “O thou Son of the Sultan, that site is a far cry for thee, nor canst thou ever arrive thereat unless assisted, seeing that its distance from this place be a march of two hundred years for a diligent traveller. How then canst thou reach it and return from it? However, the old saw saith, O my son, ‘Good for good and the beginner is worthier, and ill for ill and the beginner is unworthier.’364 Now thou hast done to me a kindly deed and I (Inshallah!) will requite thee with its match and will reward thee with its mate; but let whatso is with thee of companions and slaves and beasts and provisions abide in this site and we will go together, I and thou, and I will win for thee thy wish even as thou hast wrought by me a kindly work.” Hereupon the Prince left all that was with him in that place and the ‘Aun said to him, “O son of the Sultan, come mount upon my shoulders.” The youth did accordingly, after he had filled his ears with cotton, and the ‘Aun rose from earth and towered in air and after the space of an hour he descended again and the rider found himself in the grounds about the capital of the Camphor Islands. So he dismounted from the Jinni’s shoulders and looked about that wady where he espied pleasant spots and he descried trees and blooms and rills and birds that trilled and shrilled with various notes. Then quoth the ‘Aun to him, “Go forth to yonder garden and thence bring thy need;” so he walked thither and, finding the gates wide open, he passed in and fell to solacing himself with looking to the right and the left. Presently he saw bird-cages suspended and in them were fowls of every kind, to each two, so he walked up to them and whenever he noted a bird that pleased him he took it and caged it till he had there six fowls and of all sorts twain. Then he designed to leave the garden when suddenly a keeper met him face to face at the door crying aloud, “A thief! a thief!” Hereat all the other gardeners rushed up and seized him, together with the cage, and carried him before the King, the owner of that garden and lord of that city. They set him in the presence saying, “Verily we found this young man stealing a cage wherein be fowls and in good sooth he must be a thief.” Quoth the Sultan, “Who misled thee, O Youth, to enter my grounds and trespass thereon and take of my birds?” Whereto the Prince returned no reply. So the Sultan resumed, “By Allah, thou hast wilfully wasted thy life, but, O Youngster, an it be thy desire to take my birds and carry them away, do thou go and bring me from the capital of the Isles of the Súdán365 bunches of grapes which are clusters of diamonds and emeralds, when I will give thee over and above these six fowls six other beside.” So the Prince left him and going to the ‘Aun informed him of what had befallen him, and the other cried, “’Tis easy, O Mohammed;” and mounting him upon his shoulders flew with him for the space of two hours and presently alighted. The youth saw himself in the lands surrounding the capital of the Sudan Islands which he found more beautiful than the fair region he had left; and he designed forthright to approach the garden containing great clusters of diamonds and emeralds, when he was confronted by a Lion in the middle way. Now it was the wont of this beast yearly to visit that city and to pounce upon everything he met of women as well as of men; so seeing the Prince he charged down upon him, designing to rend him limb from limb — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Lion charged down upon Mohammed, Son of the Sultan, designing to rend him in pieces, but he confronted him and unsheathing his scymitar made it glitter in the sunshine366 and pressed him close and bashed him with brand between his eyes so that the blade came forth gleaming from between his thighs. Now by doom of Destiny the daughter of the Sultan was sitting at the latticed window of her belvedere and was looking at her glass and solacing herself, when her glance fell upon the King’s son as he was smiting the Lion. So she said to herself, “May thy hand never palsied grow nor exult over thee any foe!” But the Prince after slaying the Lion left the body and walked into the garden whose door had been left open and therein he found that all the trees were of precious metal bearing clusters like grapes of diamonds and emeralds. So he went forwards and plucked from those trees six bunches which he placed within a cage, when suddenly he was met by the keeper who cried out, “A thief! a thief!” and when joined by the other gardeners seized him and bore him before the Sultan saying, “O my lord, I have come upon this youth who was red-handed in robbing yonder clusters.” The King would have slain him forth-right, but suddenly there came to him a gathering of the folk who cried, “O King of the Age, a gift of good news!”367 Quoth he, “Wherefore?” and quoth they, “Verily the Lion which was wont hither to come every year and to pounce upon all that met him of men and of women and of maidens and of children, we have found him in such a place clean slain and split into twain.” Now the Sultan’s daughter was standing by the lattice of the belvedere which was hard by the Divan of her sire and was looking at the youth who stood before the King and was awaiting to see how it would fare with him. But when the folk came in and reported the death of the Lion, the Sultan threw aside the affair of the youth of his joy and delight and fell to asking, “Who was it slew the beast?” and to saying, “Walláhi! By the rights of my forbears in this kingdom,368 let him who killed the monster come before me and ask of me a boon which it shall be given to him; nay, even if he demand of me a division of all my good he shall receive that same.” But when he had heard of all present that the tidings were true then the city-folk followed one another in a line and went in to the Sultan and one of them said, “I have slain the Lion.” Said the King, “And how hast thou slain him; and in what manner hast thou been able to prevail over and master him?” Then he spake with him softly369 and proved him and at last so frightened him that the man fell to the ground in his consternation; when they carried him off and the King declared, “This wight lieth!” All this and Mohammed, the Son of the Sultan, was still standing and looking on and when he heard the man’s claim he smiled. Suddenly the King happening to glance at him saw the smile and was astounded and said in his mind, “By Allah, this Youth is a wondrous for he smileth he being in such case as this.” But behold, the King’s daughter sent an eunuch to her father and he delivered the message, when the King arose and went into his Harem and asked her, “What is in thy mind and what is it thou seekest?” She answered, “Is it thy desire to know who slew the Lion that thou mayest largesse him?” and he rejoined, saying, “By virtue of Him who created His servants and computeth their numbers,370 when I know him and am certified of his truth my first gift to him shall be to wed thee with him and he shall become to me son-in-law were he in the farthest of lands.” Retorted she, “By Allah, O my father, none slew the Lion save the young man who entered the garden and carried off the clusters of gems, the youth whom thou art minded to slay.” When he heard these words from his daughter, the King returned to the Divan and bade summon Mohammed the Son of the Sultan, and when they set him between his hands he said to him, “O Youth, thou hast indemnity from me and say me, art thou he who slew the Lion?” The other answered, “O King, I am indeed young in years; how then shall I prevail over a Lion and slaughter him, when, by Allah, in all my born days I never met even with a hyena much less than a lion? However, O King of the Age, an thou largesse me with these clusters of gems and give them to me in free gift, I will wend my ways, and if not my luck will be with Allah!” Rejoined the King, “O Youth, speak thou sooth and fear not!” Here he fell to soothing him with words and solacing him and gentling him, after which he threatened him with his hand, but Mohammed the Son of the Sultan raised his neave swiftlier than the lightning and smote the King and caused him swoon. Now there was none present in the Divan save Mohammed and the Monarch, who after an hour came to himself and said, “By Allah, thou art he who slew the Lion!” Hereupon he robed him with a robe of honour and, summoning the Kazi, bade tie the marriage-tie with his daughter; but quoth the young man, “O King of the Age, I have a counsel to consult, after which I will return to thee.” Quoth the King, “Right rede is this same and a matter not to blame.” Accordingly the Prince repaired to the ‘Aun in the place where he had left him and related to him all that had betided himself, and of his intended marriage with the King’s daughter, whereupon said the Jinni, “Condition with him that if thou take her to wife thou shalt carry her along with thee to thine own country.” The youth did his bidding and returned to the King who said, “There is no harm in that,” and the marriage-knot was duly knotted. Then the bridegroom was led in procession to his bride with whom he remained a full month of thirty days, after which he craved leave to fare for his own motherland. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Mohammed Son of the Sultan craved leave to return to his own motherland, when his father-in-law gave him an hundred clusters of the diamantine and smaragdine grapes, after which he farewelled the King and taking his bride fared without the city. Here he found expecting him the ‘Aun, who, after causing them to fill their ears with cotton, shouldered him, together with his wife, and then flew with them through the firmament for two hours or so and alighted with them near the capital of the Camphor Islands. Presently Mohammed the Son of the Sultan took four clusters of the emeralds and diamonds, and going in to the King laid them before him and drew him back. The Sultan gazed upon them and marvelled and cried, “Walláhi! doubtless this youth be a Magician for that he hath covered a space of three hundred years in three371 of coming and going, and this is amongst the greatest of marvels.” Presently he resumed, saying, “O Youth, hast thou reached the city of the Sudan?” and the other replied, “I have.” The King continued, “What is its description and its foundation and how are its gardens and its rills?” So he informed him of all things required of him and the Sultan cried, “By Allah, O Youth, thou deservest all thou askest of me.” “I ask for nothing,” said the Prince, “save the birds,” and the King, “O Youth, there is with us in our town a Vulture which cometh every year from behind Mount Káf and pounceth upon the sons of this city and beareth them away and eateth them on the heads of the hills. Now an thou canst master this monster-fowl and slay that same I have a daughter whom I will marry to thee.” Quoth the Prince, “I have need of taking counsel;” and returned to the ‘Aun to inform him thereof when behold, the Vulture made its appearance. But as soon as the Jinni espied it, he flew and made for it, and caught it up; then, smiting it with a single stroke of his hand, he cut it in two and presently he returned and settled down upon the ground. Then, after a while, he went back to Mohammed, the Son of the Sultan, and said to him, “Hie thee to the King and report to him the slaughter of the Vulture.” So he went and entering the presence reported what had taken place, where-upon the Sultan with his lords of the land mounted372 their horses, and, going to the place, found the monster killed, and cut into two halves. Anon the King returned, and leading Prince Mohammed with him bade knit the marriage-knot with his daughter and caused him to pay her the first visit. He tarried beside her for a full-told month after which he asked leave to travel and to seek the city of his first spouse, carrying with him the second. Hereupon the King his father-in-law presented to him ten cages, each containing four birds of vari-coloured coats and farewelled him. After which he fared forth and left the city, and outside it he found the ‘Aun awaiting him and the Jinni salam’d to the Prince and congratulated him in what he had won of gifts and prizes. Then he arose high in air, bearing Mohammed and his two brides and all that was with them, and he winged his way for an hour or so until he alighted once more at the ruined city. Here he found the Prince’s suite of learned men, together with the bat-beasts and their loads373 and everything other even as he had left it. So they sat down to take their rest when the ‘Aun said, “O Mohammed, O Son of the Sultan, I have been predestined to thee in this site whither thou wast fated to come; but I have another and a further covenant to keep wherewith I would charge thee.” “What is that?” quoth he, and quoth the ‘Aun, “Verily thou shalt not depart this place until thou shalt have laved me and shrouded me and graved374 me in the ground;” and so saying he shrieked a loud shriek and his soul fled his flesh. This was grievous to the son of the King and he and his men arose and washed him and shrouded him and having prayed over him buried him in the earth. After this the Prince turned him to travel, so they laded the loads and he and his set forth intending for their families and native land. They journeyed during the space of thirty days till they reached the fork of the highway whereat stood the great rock, and here they found tents and pavilions and a host nor did they know what this mighty many might mean. Now the father, when his son left him, suffered from straitness of breast and was sore perplexed as to his affair and he wot not what to do; so he bade make ready his army and commanded the lords of the land to prepare for the march and all set out seeking his son and determined to find tidings of him. Nor did they cease faring till they reached the place where the road forked into three and on the first rock they saw written the three lines —“This is the road of safe chance;” and “This is the way of repentance;” and “This is the path whereon whoso paceth shall return nevermore.” But when the father read it he was posed and perplext as to the matter and he cried, “Would Heaven I knew by which road of these three my son Mohammed may have travelled;” and as he was brooding over this difficulty — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that as the Sultan was brooding over this difficulty lo and behold! his son Mohammed appeared before him by the path which showed written, “This is the path whereon whoso passeth shall nevermore return.” But when the King saw him, and face confronted face, he arose and met him and salam’d to him giving him joy of his safety; and the Prince told him all that had befallen him from beginning to end — how he had not reached those places save by the All-might of Allah, and how he had succeeded in winning his wish by meeting with the ‘Aun. So they nighted in that site and when it was morning they resumed their march, all in gladness and happiness for that the Sultan had recovered his son Mohammed. They ceased not faring a while until they drew near their native city when the bearers of good tidings ran forward announcing the arrival of the Sultan and his son and, hereupon the houses were decorated in honour of the Prince’s safe return and crowds came out to meet them till such time as all had entered the city-walls, after which their joys increased and their annoy fell from them. And this is the whole of the tale told by the first Larrikin. Now when the Sultan heard it he marvelled at what had befallen the chief adventurer therein, when the second Larrikin spoke saying “I have by me a tale, a marvel of marvels, and which is a delight to the hearer and a diversion to the reader and to the reciter.” Quoth the Sovran, “What may that be, O Shaykh?” and the man fell to relating the
353 Scott. “History of the Sultan of Hind,” vol. vi. 194-209.
354 Red robes being a sign of displeasure: see vol. iv. 72; Scott (p. 294) wrongly makes them “robes of mourning.”
355 A Moslem negroid from Central and Western North Africa. See vol. ii. 15. They share in popular opinion the reputation of the Maghrabi or Maroccan for magical powers.
356 This is introduced by the translator; as usual with such unedited tales, the name does not occur till much after the proper place for specifying it.
357 In text “Iz lam naakhaz-há, wa-illá,” &c. A fair specimen of Arab. ellipsis. — If I catch her not (’twill go hard with me), and unless (I catch her) I will, &c.
358 i.e. “How far is the fowl from thee!”
359 [In the MS. “turayyih,” a modern form for “turawwih."— ST.]
360 [The above translation pre-supposes the reading “Farkhah lá atammat,” and would require, I believe, the conjunction “hattà” or “ilà an” to express “till.” I read with the MS. “lá tammat,” and would translate: “a chick not yet full grown, when the crow seized it and flew away with it,” as a complaint of the father for the anticipated untimely end of his son. — ST.]
361 For “‘Aun,” a high degree amongst the “Genies,” see vol. iv. p. 83. Readers will be pleased with this description of a Jinni; and not a few will regret that they have not one at command. Yet the history of man’s locomotion compels us to believe that we are progressing towards the time when humanity will become volatile. Pre-historic Adam was condemned to “Shanks his mare,” or to “go on footback,” as the Boers have it, and his earliest step was the chariot; for, curious to say, driving amongst most peoples preceded riding, as the row-boat forewent the sailer. But as men increased and the world became smaller and time shorter the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries, after many abortive attempts, converted the chariot into a railway-car and the sailer into a steamer. Aerostatics are still in their infancy and will grow but little until human society shall find some form of flying an absolute necessity when, as is the history of all inventions, the winged woman (and her man) of Peter Wilkins will pass from fiction into fact. But long generations must come and go before “homo sapiens” can expect to perfect a practice which in the present state of mundane society would be fatal to all welfare.
362 Scott (p. 200) “Welcome to the sovereign of the Aoon, friendly to his brethren,” (siddík al Akhwán) etc. Elsewhere he speaks of “the Oone.”
363 So he carried a portable “toilette,” like a certain Crown Prince and Prince Bahman in Suppl. vol. iii. 329.
364 There is another form of the saw in verse:—
Good is good and he’s best whoso worketh it first;
And ill is for me of provisions the worst.
The provision is=viaticum, provaunt for the way.
[The MS. has “akram” and “azlam”=“the more generous,” “the more iniquitous,” meaning that while good should be requited by good, and evil provokes further evil in retaliation, the beginner in either case deserves the greater praise or blame. — ST.]
365 I have noted (vols. iii. 75, and viii. 266) that there are two “Soudans” as we write the word, one Eastern upon the Upper Nile Valley and the other Western and drained by the Niger water-shed. The former is here meant. It is or should be a word of shame to English ears after the ungodly murder and massacre of the gallant “Soudanese” negroids who had ever been most friendly to us and whom with scant reason to boast we attacked and destroyed because they aspired to become free from Turkish task-masters and Egyptian tax-gatherers. That such horrors were perpetrated by order of one of the most humane amongst our statesmen proves and decidedly proves one thing, an intense ignorance of geography and ethnology.
366 [In the MS. “lawá ‘a-hu” for which Sir Richard conjectures the reading “lawwahahu” taking the pronoun to refer to the sword. I believe, however, the word to be a clerical error for our old acquaintance “láwa’a-hu” (see supra p. 203) and, referring the pronoun in the three verbs to the Lion, would translate: “and he worried him,” etc. — ST.]
367 Arab. “Al-bashárah,” see vol. i. 30: Scott has (vi. 204) “Good tidings to our sovereign.”
368 [The MS. is here rather indistinct; still, as far as I can make out, it runs: “wa Hakki man aulàní házá ‘l-Mulk”=and by the right of (i.e. my duty towards) Him who made me ruler over this kingdom. — ST.]
369 [The word in the MS. is difficult to decipher. In a later passage we find corresponding with it the expression “yumázasa-hu fií ‘l-Kalám,” which is evidently a clerical error for “yumárasa-hu”=he tested or tried him in his speech. Accordingly I would read here: “yakhburu ma’ahu fí ‘l-Kalám,” lit.=he experimented with him, i.e. put him to his test. The idea seems to be, that he first cross-examined him and then tried to intimidate him. With this explanation “yusáhí-hu” and later on “yulhí-hu” would tally, which both have about the same meaning: to divert the attention, to make forget one thing over another, hence to confuse and lead one to contradict himself. — ST.]
370 Here we find the old superstitious idea that no census or “numbering of the people” should take place save by direct command of the Creator. Compare the pestilence which arose in the latter days of David when Joab by command of the King undertook the work (2 Sam. xxiv. 1-9, etc.).
371 The text has “Salásín”=thirty, evidently a clerical error.
372 [In Ar. “yanjaaru,” vii. form of “jaara” (med. Hamzah), in which the idea of “raising,” “lifting up,” seems to prevail, for it is used for raising the voice in prayer to God, and for the growing high of plants. — ST.]
373 The text, which is wholly unedited, reads, “He found the beasts and their loads (? the camels) and the learned men,” &c. A new form of “Bos atque sacerdos” and of place pour les ânes et les savants, as the French soldiers cried in Egypt when the scientists were admitted into the squares of infantry formed against the doughty Mameluke cavalry.
374 [In the MS. “wáraytaní ilà l-turáb”=thou hast given me over to the ground for concealment, iii. form of “wara,” which takes the meaning of “hiding,” “keeping secret."— ST.]
They tell that whilome there was a Fisherman, a poor man with a wife and family, who every day was wont to take his net and go down to the river a-fishing for his daily bread which is distributed. Then he would sell a portion of his catch and buy victual and the rest he would carry to his wife and children that they might eat. One day of the many days he said to his son who was growing up to a biggish lad, “O my child, come forth with me this morning, haply All-Mighty Allah may send us somewhat of livelihood by thy footsteps;” and the other answered, “’Tis well, O my father.” Hereupon the Fisherman took his son and his net and they twain went off together till they arrived at the river-bank, when quoth the father, “O my boy I will throw the net upon the luck of thee.” Then he went forward to the water and standing thereby took his net and unfokled it so that it spread when entering the stream, and after waiting an hour or so he drew it in and found it heavy of weight; so he cried, “O my son, bear a hand” and the youth came up and lent him aidance in drawing it in. And when they had haled it to shore they opened it and found a fish of large size and glittering with all manner of colours. Quoth the father, “O my son, by Allah, this fish befitteth not any but the Caliph; do thou therefore abide with it till I go and fetch a charger wherein to carry it as an offering for the Prince of True Believers.” The youth took his seat by the fish and when his father was afar off he went up to her and said, “Doubtless thou hast children and the byword saith, Do good and cast it upon the waters.” Then he took up the fish and setting her near the river besprinkled375 her and said, “Go thou to thy children, this is even better than being eaten by the Caliph.” But having thrown the fish into the stream, his fear of his father grew strong upon him, so he arose and without stay or delay fled his village; and he ceased not flying till he reached the Land of Al-Irák whose capital was under a King of wide dominions (and praise be to the King of all kingdoms!). So he entered the streets and presently he met a baker-man who said to him, “O my son, wilt thou serve?” whereto he replied, “I will serve, O uncle.” The man settled with him for a wage of two silver nusfs a day together with his meat and his drink, and he remained working with him for a while of time. Now one day of the days behold, he saw a lad of the sons of that city carrying about a cock with the intention of vending it, when he was met by a Jew who said to him, “O my child, wilt thou sell this fowl?” and the other said, “I will.” Quoth the Jew, “For ten faddahs?” and quoth the youth, “Allah openeth!” Said the other, “For twenty faddahs?” and the lad, “Allah veileth!”376 Then the Jew fell to increasing his offer for the cock until he reached a full dinar. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Jew raised his bid for the cock till he reached a gold piece when the lad said, “Here with it.” So the man gave him the dinar and took from him the fowl and slaughtered it forthright. Then he turned to a boy, one of his servants, and said to him, “Take this cock and carry it home and say to thy mistress, ‘Pluck it, but open it not until such time as I shall return.’” And the servant did his bidding. But when the Fisherman’s son who was standing hard by heard these words and saw the bargain, he waited for a while and as soon as the servant had carried off the fowl, he arose and buying two cocks at four faddahs he slaughtered them and repaired with them to the house of the Jew. Then he rapped at the door and when the mistress came out to him he bespoke her saying, “The house master saith to thee, ‘Take these two silvers and send me the bird which was brought to thee by the servant boy.’”377 Quoth she, “’Tis well,” so he gave her the two fowls and took from her the cock which her husband had slaughtered. Then he returned to the bakery, and when he was private he opened the belly of the cock and found therein a signet-ring with a bezel-gem which in the sun showed one colour and in the shade another. So he took it up and hid it in his bosom, after which he gutted the bird and cooked it in the furnace and ate it. Presently the Jew having finished his business, returned home and said to his wife, “Bring me the cock.” She brought him the two fowls and he seeing them asked her, “But where be the first cock?” And she answered him, “Thou thyself sentest the boy with these two birds and then orderedst him to bring thee the first cock.” The Jew held his peace but was sore distressed at heart, so sore indeed that he came nigh to die and said to himself, “Indeed it hath slipped from my grasp!” Now the Fisherman’s son after he had mastered the ring waited until the evening evened when he said, “By Allah, needs must this bezel have some mystery;” so he withdrew into the privacy of the furnace and brought it out from his bosom and fell a-rubbing it. Thereupon the Slave of the Ring appeared and cried, “Here I stand378-between thy hands.” Then the Fisherman’s son said to himself, “This indeed is the perfection of good fortune,” and returned the gem to his breast-pocket as it was. Now when morning morrowed the owner of the bakery came in and the youth said to him, “O my master, I am longing for my people and my native land and ’tis my desire to fare and look upon them and presently I will return to thee.” So the man paid him his wage, after which he left him and walked from the bakery till he came to the Palace of the Sultan where he found near the gate well nigh an hundred heads which had been cut off and there suspended; so he leaned for rest against the booth of a sherbet-seller and asked its owner, “O master, what is the cause of all these heads being hung up?” and the other answered, “O my son, inquire not, anent what hath been done.” However when he repeated the question the man replied, “O my son, verily the Sultan hath a daughter, a model of beauty and loveliness, of symmetric stature and perfect grace, in fact likest a branch of the Rattan-palm;379 and whoso cometh ever to seek her in marriage her father conditioneth with him a condition.” Cried the Fisherman’s son, “What may be that condition?” and the other replied, “There is a great mound of ashes under the latticed windows of the Sultan’s palace, and whoso wisheth to take his daughter to wife he maketh a covenant with him that he shall carry off that heap. So the other accepted the agreement with only the proviso that he should have forty days’ grace and he consented that, an he fail within that time, his head be cut off.” “And the heap is high?” quoth the Fisherman’s son. “Like a hill,” quoth the other. Now when the youth had thoroughly comprehended what the sherbet-seller had told him, he farewelled him and left him; then, going to a Khan, he hired him a cell and taking seat therein for a time he pondered how he should proceed, for he was indeed fearful yet was his heart hanging to the love of the Sultan’s daughter. Presently he brought out his ring, and rubbed it, when the voice of the Slave cried to him, “Here I stand between thy hands and what mayst thou require of me?” Said the other, “I want a suit of kingly clothes;” whereat without delay a bundle was set before him and when he opened it he found therein princely gear. So he took it and rising without loss of time he went into the Hammam and caused himself to be soaped and gloved and thoroughly washed, after which he donned the dress and his case was changed into other case. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will.” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the son of the Fisherman came forth the Bath-house and donned his fine dress, his was changed into other case and he appeared before the folk in semblance of the sons of Kings. Presently he went to the Sultan’s palace and entering therein made his salam and, blushing for modesty, did his obeisance and blessed the Sultan with the blessing due to Caliphs. His greetings were returned and the King welcomed him and after that looked at him, and finding him after princely fashion, asked him, “What is thy need, O Youth, and what requirest thou?” Answered the other, “I seek connection with thy house, and I come desirous of betrothal with the lady concealed and the pearl unrevealed, which is thy daughter.” “Art thou able to perform the condition, O Youth?” asked the King; “For I want neither means nor moneys nor precious stones nor other possession; brief, none other thing save that thou remove yon mound of ashes from beneath the windows of my palace.” Upon this he bade the youth draw near him and when he obeyed threw open the lattice; and, showing him the hillock that stood underneath it, said, “O Youth, I will betroth to thee my daughter an thou be pleased to remove this heap; but if thou prove thee unable so to do I will strike off thy head.” Quoth the Fisherman’s son, “I am satisfied therewith,” presently adding, “A delay!380 grant me the term of forty days.” “I have allowed thy request to thee,” said the King and wrote a document bearing the testimony of those present, when cried the youth, “O King, bid nail up thy windows and let them not be unfastened until the fortieth day shall have gone by.” “These words be fair,” quoth the Sultan, and accordingly he gave the order. Hereat the youth went forth from him whereupon all present in the palace cried, “O the pity of it, that this youngster should be done to die; indeed there were many stronger than he, yet none of them availed to remove the heap.” In this way each and every said his say, but when the Fisherman’s son returned to his cell (and he was thoughtful concerning his life and perplext as to his affair) he cried, “Would Heaven I knew whether the Ring hath power to carry it off.” Then shutting himself up in his cell he brought out the signet from his breast-pocket and rubbed it, and a Voice was heard to cry, “Here I stand (and fair befall thy command) between thy hands. What requirest thou of me, O my lord?” The other replied, “I want thee to remove the ash-heap which standeth under the windows of the royal palace, and I demand that thou lay out in lieu thereof a garden wide of sides in whose middlemost must be a mansion tall and choice-builded of base, for the special domicile of the Sultan’s daughter; furthermore, let all this be done within the space of forty days.” “Aye ready,” quoth the Jinni, “to do all thou desirest.” Hereupon the youth felt his affright assuaged and his heart rightly directed; and after this he would go every day to inspect the heap and would find one quarter of it had disappeared, nor did aught of it remain after the fourth morning for that the ring was graved with the cabalistic signs of the Cohens381 and they had set upon the work an hundred Marids of the Jann that they might carry out the wishes of any who required aught of them. And when the mound was removed they dispread in its site a garden wide of sides in whose midst they edified a palace choice-builded of base, and all this was done within the space of fifteen days, whilst the Fisherman’s son ever repaired thither and inspected the work. But when he had perfected his intent he entered to the Sultan and kissing ground between his hands and having prayed for his glory and permanence, said, “O King of the Age, deign open the lattices of thy Palace!” So he went to them and threw them open when lo and behold, he found in lieu of the mound a mighty fine garden wherein were trees and rills and blooms and birds hymning the praises of their Creator; moreover he saw in that garden a palace, an edifice choice-builded of base which is not to be found with any King or Kaysar. Seeing this he wondered at the circumstance and his wits were wildered and he was perplext as to his affair; after which he sent for the Minister and summoned him and said, “Counsel me, O Wazir, as to what I shall do in the case of this youth and in what way shall I fend him from me.” Replied the Councillor, “How shall I advise thee, seeing that thou madest condition with him that should he fail in his undertaking thou wouldst strike off his head? Now there is no contrivance in this matter and there is naught to do save marrying him with the girl.” By these words the King was persuaded and caused the knot to be knotted and bade them lead the bridegroom in procession to the bride, after which the youth set her in the garden-palace and cohabited with her in all joy and enjoyment and pleasure and disport. On this wise fared it with them; but as regards the case of the Jew, when he lost the cock he went forth in sore disappointment like unto one Jinn-mad; and neither was his sleep sound and good nor were meat and drink pleasant food, and he ceased not wandering about till the Fates threw him into that garden. Now he had noted in past time that a huge heap of ashes stood under the palace-windows and when he looked he cried, “Verily, the youth hath been here and all this work is the work of the signet-ring, for that none other than the Márids of the Jánn could remove such a hillock.” So saying, the Jew returned to his place, where he brought out a parcel of fine pearls and some few emeralds and specimens of coral and other precious minerals, and set them for sale in a tray. Then he approached the palace which was builded in the garden and cried out saying, “The pearls! and the emeralds! and the corals! and various kinds of fine jewels!” and he kept up this cry. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Jew fell to hawking about his minerals and crying them for sale beside the garden-palace and the Sultan’s daughter hearing him exclaimed, “O Handmaid, bring me that which is for sale with this Jew.” So the girl went down and said to the man, “What hast thou by thee?” and said the other, “Precious stones.” Quoth she, “Wilt thou sell them for gold?” and quoth he, “No, O my lady, I will sell them for nothing save for rings which must be old.”382 Accordingly she returned and herewith acquainted her lady who said, “By Allah, my Lord hath in his pencase383 an old worn-out ring, so do thou go and bring it to me while he sleepeth.” But she knew not what was hidden for her in the Secret Purpose, nor that which was fated to be her Fate. So presently she brought out of the pencase the bezel-ring afore-mentioned and gave it to the handmaid who took it and faring outside the house handed it to the Jew, and he received it with extreme joy and in turn presented to her the tray with all thereon. Then he went forth the city and set out on a voyage to the Seven Islands which are not far from the earth-surrounding Ocean;384 and when he arrived thither he landed upon a sea-holm and travelled to the middle-most thereof. Anon he took seat, and presently brought out the signet-ring and rubbed it, when the slave appeared and cried, “Here I stand and between thy hands, what is it thou needest of me?” “I require of thee,” quoth the Jew, “to transport hither the bower of the Sultan’s daughter and to restore the ash-heap to the stead it was in whilome under the lattice of the King’s Palace.” Now ere night had passed away both Princess and Palace were transported to the middlemost of the island; and when the Jew beheld her his heart flamed high for the excess of her beauty and loveliness. So he entered her bower and fell to conversing with her, but she would return to him no reply and, when he would have approached her, she started away in disgust. Hereupon, seeing no signs of conquest, the Jew said in his mind, “Let her wax accustomed to me and she will be satisfied,” and on this wise he continued to solace her heart. Now as regards the son of the Fisherman his sleep had extended deep into the forenoon and when the sun burnt upon his back he arose and found himself lying on the ash-heap below the Palace, so he said to himself, “Up and away, otherwise the Sultan will look out of the window and will behold this mound returned to its place as it was before, and he will order thy neck to be smitten.” So he hurried him forth hardly believing in his escape, and he ceased not hastening his pace until he came to a coffee-house, which he entered; and there he took him a lodging and used to lie the night, and to rise amorn. Now one day of the days behold, he met a man who was leading about a dog and a cat and a mouse385 and crying them for sale at the price of ten faddahs; so the youth said in his mind, “Let me buy these at their cheap price;” and he called aloud to the man and having given him the ten silverlings took away his purchase. After this he would fare every day to the slaughter-house and would buy for them a bit of tripe or liver and feed them therewith, but ever and anon he would sit down and ponder the loss of the Ring and bespeak himself and say, “Would Heaven I wot that which Allah Almighty hath done with my Ring and my Palace and my bride the Sultan’s daughter!” Now the dog and the cat and the mouse heard him, and one day of the days as, according to his custom, he took them with him and led them to the slaughter-house and bought a meal of entrails and gave somewhat to each that it might eat thereof, he sat down in sad thought and groaned aloud and sorrow prevailed upon him till he was overcome by sleep. The season was the mid-forenoon386 and the while he slumbered and was drowned in drowsiness, the Dog said to the Cat and the Mouse, “O brethren mine, in very deed this youth, who hath bought us for ten faddahs, leadeth us every day to this stead and giveth us our rations of food. But he hath lost his Ring and the Palace wherein was his bride, the daughter of the Sultan; so let us up and fare forth and seek therefore and do ye twain mount upon my back so that we can overwander the seas and the island-skirts.” They did as he bade them and he walked down with them to the waters and swam with them until they found themselves amiddlemost the main; nor did he cease swimming with them for about a day and a night until the morning morrowed and they saw from afar a somewhat that glittered. So they made for it till they drew near, when they saw that it was the Palace in question, whereat the Dog continued swimming till such time as he came ashore and dismounted the Cat and the Mouse. Then he said to them, “Let us abide here."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Dog said to the Cat and the Mouse, “I will abide and await you here, and do ye twain fare into the Palace, where the Cat shall take her station upon the crenelles over the lattice window and the Mouse shall enter the mansion and roam about and search through the rooms until she come upon the Ring required.” So they did the Dog’s bidding and sought the places he had appointed to them and the Mouse crept about but found naught until she approached the bedstead and beheld the Jew asleep and the Princess lying afar off. He had been longsome in requiring of her her person and had even threatened her with slaughter, yet he had no power to approach her nor indeed had he even looked upon the form of her face. Withal the Mouse ceased not faring about until she approached the Jew, whom she discovered sleeping upon his back and drowned in slumber for the excess of his drink that weighed him down. So she drew near and considered him and saw the Ring in his mouth below his tongue whereat she was perplext how to recover it; but presently she went forth to a vessel of oil and dipping her tail therein approached the sleeper and drew it over his nostrils, whereat he sneezed with a sneeze so violent that the Ring sprang from between his jaws and fell upon the side of the bedstead. Then she seized it in huge joy and returning to the Cat said to her, “Verily the prosperity of our lord hath returned to him.” After this the twain went back to the Dog whom they found expecting them, so they marched down to the sea and mounted upon his back and he swam with them both, all three being in the highest spirits. But when they reached the middle of the main, quoth the Cat to the Mouse, “Pass the Ring to me that I may carry it awhile;” and the other did so, when she placed it in her chops for an hour of time. Then quoth the Dog to them, “Ye twain have taken to yourselves charge of the Ring, each of you for a little time, and I also would do likewise.” They both said to him, “O our brother, haply ’twill fall from thy mouth;” but said he to them, “By Allah, an ye give it not to me for a while I will drown you both in this very place.” Accordingly the two did in their fear as the Dog desired and when he had set it in his chops it dropped therefrom into the abyss of the ocean; seeing which all repented thereat and they said, “Wasted is our work we have wrought.” But when they came to land they found their lord sleeping from the excess of his cark and his care, and so the trio stood on the shore and were sorrowing with sore sorrow, when behold, there appeared to them a Fish strange of semblance who said to them, “Take ye this Signet-ring and commit it to your lord, the son of the Fisherman, and when giving it to him say, ‘Since thou diddest a good deed and threwest the Fish into the sea thy kindness shall not be for naught; and, if it fail with the Creature, it shall not fail with Allah the Creator.’ Then do ye inform him that the Fish which his father the Fisher would have presented to the King and whereupon he had mercy and returned her to the waters, that Fish am I, and the old saw saith, ‘This for that, and tit for tat is its reward!’” Hereupon the Dog took the Signet-ring and the other two went up with him to their lord and awaking him from sleep returned to him his Ring. But when he saw it he became like one Jinn-mad from the excess of his joy and the three related to him the affair of the Signet; how they had brought it away from the Jew and how it had dropped from the Dog’s mouth into the abyss of the sea and lastly how the Fish who had found it brought it back to them declaring that it was she whom his sire had netted and whom the son had returned to the depths. Cried he, “Alham-dolillah”— Glory be to the Lord — who caused us work this weal and requited us for our kindness;” after which he took the Signet and waited until night had nighted. Then he repaired to the mount which was under the Sultan’s Palace and brought out the Ring and rubbed it, when the Slave appeared and cried to him, “Here I stand (and fair befal thy command!) between thy hands: what is it needest thou and requirest thou of me?” The other replied, “I demand that thou carry off for me this mound."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sun of the Fisherman bade the Slave of the Ring remove the mound and return the garden as whilome it was and restore the Palace containing the Jew and the Sultan’s daughter. Nor did that hour pass before everything was replaced in its proper stead. Then the Youth went up to the saloon where he found the Jew recovered from his drunkenness and he was threatening the Princess and saying, “Thou! for thee there is no escape from me.” But cried she, “O dog, O accurst, joy from my lord is well nigh to me.” Hearing these words the Youth fell upon the Jew and dragging him along by his neck, went down with him and bade them light a furious fire, and so they did till it flamed and flared; after which he pinioned his enemy and caused him to be cast therein when his bones were melted upon his flesh. Then returning to the Palace he fell to blaming the Sultan’s daughter for the matter of the Ring, and asking her, “Why didst thou on this wise?” She answered, “From Fate there is no flight, and Alhamdolillah — praise to the Lord — who after all that befell us from the Jew hath brought us together once more.” Now all that happened from the Jew and the return of the Sultan’s daughter and the restoring of the Palace and the death of his deceiver remained unknown to the Sultan, and here is an end to my history. And when the second Larrikin held his peace quoth the King, “Allah quicken thee for this story; by the Almighty ’tis wondrous, and it delighteth the hearer and rejoiceth the teller.” Then cried the third Larrikin, “I also have by me an history more marvelous than these two; and, were it written in water of gold upon the pages of men’s hearts, it were worthy thereof.” Quoth the King, “O Larrikin, if it prove stranger and rarer than these I will surely largesse thee.” Whereupon quoth he, “O King of the Age, listen to what I shall relate,” and he fell to telling the
375 [The MS. has “wa dazz-há,” which is an evident corruption. The translator, placing the diacritical point over the first radical instead of the second, reads “wa zarr-há,” and renders accordingly. But if in the MS. the dot is misplaced, the Tashdid over it would probably also belong to the Dál, resp. Zal, and as it is very feasible that a careless writer should have dropped one Waw before another, I am inclined to read “wa wazzar-ha” = “and he left her,” “let her go,” “set her free.” In classical Arabic only the imperative “Zar,” and the aorist “yazaru” of the verb “wazara” occur in this sense, while the preterite is replaced by “taraka,” or some other synonym. But the language of the common people would not hesitate to use a form scorned by the grammarians, and even to improve upon it by deriving from it one of their favourite intensives. — St.]
376 Both are civil forms of refusal: for the first see vols. i. 32; vi. 216; and for the second ix. 309.
377 Everything being fair in love and war and dealing with a “Káfir,” i.e. a non-Moslem.
378 In text “Labbayka” = here am I: see vol. i. 226.
379 In text “’Úd Khayzarán” - wood of the rattan, which is orig. “Rota,” from the Malay “Rotan.” Vol. ii. 66, &c.
380 [In the MS. “al-Zamán.” The translation here adopted is plausible enough. Still I think it probable that the careless scribe has omitted the words “yá al-Malik” before it, and meant to write “O king of the age!” as in so many preceding places. — St.]
381 Arab. “Al-Kuhná,” plur. Of “Káhin ‘t” = diviner, priest (non-Levitical): see “Cohen,” ii. 221. [The form is rather curious. The Dictionaries quote “Kuhná” as a Syriac singular, but here it seems to be taken as a plural of the measure “fu’alá” (Kuhaná), like Umará of Amír or Shu’ará of Shá‘ir. The usual plurals of Káhin are Kahanah and Kuhhán. — St.]
382 This is a celebrated incident in “Alaeddin,” “New lamps for old:” See Suppl. vol. iii. 119.
383 In text “Jazdán” = a pencase (Pers.) more pop. called “Kalamdán” = reed-box, vol. iv. 167: Scott (p. 212) has a “writing-stand.” It appears a queer place wherein to keep a ring, but Easterns often store in these highly ornamented boxes signets and other small matters.
384 Arab. “Bahr al-Muhít” = Circumambient Ocean; see vol. i. 133.
385 Arab. “Fár” (plur. “Firán”) = mouse rather than rat.
386 Sleep at this time is considered very unwholesome by Easterns. See under “Kaylúlah” = siesta, vols. i. 51; ii. 178, and viii. 191.
In my early years I had a cousin, the daughter of my paternal uncle, who loved me and I loved her whilst her father loathed me. So one day she sent to me saying, “Do thou fare forth and demand me in marriage from my sire;” and, as I was poor and her father was a wealthy merchant, she sent me to her dowry fifty gold pieces which I took; and, accompanied by four of my comrades, I went to the house of my father’s brother and there arrived I went within. But when he looked upon me his face showed wrath and my friends said to him, “Verily, thy nephew seeketh in marriage the daughter of his uncle;” and as soon as he heard these words he cried aloud at them and reviled me and crave me from his doors. So I went from him well nigh broken-hearted and I wept till I returned to my mother who cried, “What is to do with thee, O my son!” I related to her all that had befallen me from my uncle and she said to me, “O my child, to a man who loveth thee not thou goest, forsooth, to ask his daughter in marriage!” Whereto I replied, “O mother mine, she sent a message bidding me so do and verily she loveth me.” Quoth my mother, Take patience, O my son!” I heartened my heart, and my parent promised me all welfare and favour from my cousin; more over she was thinking of me at all times and presently she again sent to me and promised me that she never would love any other. Then behold, a party of folk repaired to her father and asked her to wife of him and prepared to take her away. But when the tidings reached her that her parent purposed marrying her to one of those people, she sent to me saying, “Get thee ready for this mid-night and I will come to thee.” When night was at its noon she appeared, carrying a pair of saddle-bags wherein was a somewhat of money and raiment, and she was leading a she mule belonging to her father whereupon her saddle-bags were packed. “Up with us,” she cried, so I arose with her in that outer darkness and we went forth the town forthright and the Veiler veiled us, nor did we stint faring till morning when we hid ourselves in fear lest we be overtaken. And when the next night fell we made ready and set out again, but we knew not whither we were wending, for the Predestinator existeth and what is decided for us is like Destiny. At last we came to a wide and open place where the heat smote us, and we sat down under a tree to smell the air. Presently sleep came upon me and I was drowned in slumber from the excess of my toil and travail, when suddenly a dog-faced baboon came up to the daughter of my uncle — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Larrikin continued his tale saying to the King:— And as I was drowned in slumber a dog-faced baboon came up to the daughter of my uncle and assaulted her and knew her carnally; then, having taken her pucelage he ran away,387 but I knew nothing thereof from being fast asleep. Now when I awoke I found my cousin was changed of case and her colour had waxed pale and she was in saddest condition; so I asked her and she told me all that had betided her and said to me, “O son of my uncle, from Fate there is no flight, even as saith one of those who knoweth:—
‘And when death shall claw with his firm-fixt nail
I saw that spells388 were of scant avail.’
And one of them also said:—
‘When God would execute His will in anything
On one endowed with sight, hearing and reasoning,
He stops his ears and blinds his eyes and draws his will
From him, as one draws out the hairs to paste that cling;
Till, His decrees fulfilled, He gives him back his wit,
That therewithal he may receive admonishing."’389
Then she spake concerning the predestination of the Creator till she could say no more thereof. Presently we departed that stead and we travelled till we came to a town of the towns frequented by merchants, where we hired us a lodging and furnished it with mats and necessaries. Here I asked for a Kazi and they pointed out to me one of them amongst the judges of the place whom I summoned with two of his witnesses; then I made one of them deputy390 for my cousin and was married to her and went in unto her and I said to myself, “All things depend upon Fate and Lot.” After that I tarried with her for a full told year in that same town, a disease befel her and she drew nigh unto death. Hereat quoth she to me, “Allah upon thee, O son of my uncle, when I shall be dead and gone and the Destiny of Allah shall come upon thee and drive thee to marry again, take not to wife any but a virgin-girl or haply do thou wed one who hath known man but once;391 for by Allah, O my cousin, I will say thee nothing but sooth when I tell thee that the delight of that dog-faced baboon who deflowered me hath remained with me ever since.”392 So saying she expired393 and her soul fled forth her flesh. I brought to her a woman who washeth the dead and shrouded her and buried her; and after her decease I went forth from the town until Time bore me along and I became a wanderer and my condition was changed and I fell into this case. And no one knew me or aught of my affairs till I came and made friends with yonder two men. Now the King hearing these words marvelled at his adventure and what had betided him from the Shifts of Time and his heart was softened to him and he largessed him and his comrades and sent them about their business. Then quoth one of the bystanders to the King, “O Sultan, I know a tale still rarer than this;” and quoth the King, “Out with it;” whereat the man began to relate
387 Modern science which, out of the depths of its self-consciousness, has settled so many disputed questions, speaking by the organs of Messieurs Woodman and Tidy (“Medical Jurisprudence”) has decided that none of the lower animals can bear issue to man. But the voice of the world is against them and as Voltaire says one cannot be cleverer than everybody. To begin with there is the will: the she-quadruman shows a distinct lust for man by fondling him and displaying her parts as if to entice him. That carnal connection has actually taken place cannot be doubted: my late friend Mirza Ali Akbar, of Bombay, the famous Munshi to Sir Charles Napier during the conquest of Sind, a man perfectly veracious and trustworthy, assured me that in the Gujarát province he had witnessed a case with his own eyes. He had gone out “to the jungle,” as the phrase is, with another Moslem who, after keeping him waiting for an unconscionable time, was found carnally united to a she-monkey. My friend, indignant as a good Moslem should be, reproved him for his bestiality and then asked him how it had come to pass: the man answered that the she-monkey came regularly to look at him on certain occasions, that he was in the habit of throwing her something to eat and that her gratitude displayed such sexuality that he was tempted and “fell.” That the male monkey shows an equal desire for the woman is known to every frequenter of the “Zoo.” I once led a party of English girls to see a collection of mandrill and other anthropoid apes in the Ménagerie of a well-known Russian millionaire, near Florence, when the Priapism displayed was such that the girls turned back and fled in fright. In the mother-lands of these anthropoids (the Gaboon, Malacca etc.) the belief is universal and women have the liveliest fear of them. In 1853 when the Crimean war was brewing a dog-faced baboon in Cairo broke away from his “Kuraydati” (ape-leader), threw a girl in the street and was about to ravish her when a sentinel drew his bayonet and killer the beast. The event was looked upon as an evil omen by the older men, who shook their heads and declared that these were bad times when apes attempted to ravish the daughters of Moslems. But some will say that the grand test, the existence of the mule between man and monkey, though generally believed in, is characteristically absent, absent as the “missing link” which goes so far as to invalidate Darwinism in one and perhaps the most important part of its contention. Of course the offspring of such union would be destroyed, yet t he fact of our never having found a trace of it except in legend and idle story seems to militate against its existence. When, however, man shall become “Homo Sapiens” he will cast off the prejudices of the cradle and the nursery and will ascertain by actual experiment if human being and monkey can breed together. The lowest order of bimana, and the highest order of quadrumana may, under most favourable circumstances, bear issue and the “Mule,” who would own half a soul, might prove most serviceable as a hewer of wood and a drawer of water, in fact as an agricultural labourer. All we can say is that such “miscegenation” stands in the category of things not proven and we must object to science declaring them non-existing. A correspondent favours me with the following note upon the subject:— Castanheda (Annals of Portugal) relates that a woman was transported to an island inhabited by monkeys and took up her abode in a cavern where she was visited by a huge baboon. He brought her apples and fruit and at last had connection with her, the result being two children in two to three years; but when she was being carrier off by a ship the parent monkey kissed his progeny. The woman was taken to Lisbon and imprisoned for life by the King. Langius, Virgilius Polydorus and others quote many instances of monstruous births in Rome resulting from the connection of women with dogs and bears, and cows with horses, &c. The following relative conditions are deduced on the authority of MM. Jean Polfya and Mauriceau:— 1. If the sexual organism of man or woman be more powerful than that of the monkey, dog, etc. the result will be a monster in the semblance of man. 2. If vice-versa the appearance will be that of a beast. 3. If both are equal the result will be a distinct sub-species as of the horse with the ass.
388 Arab. “Taním” (plur. of Tamímit) = spells, charms, amulets, as those hung to a horse’s neck, the African Greegree and the Heb. Thummim. As was the case with most of these earliest superstitions, the Serpent, the Ark, the Cherubim, the Golden Calf (Apis) and the Levitical Institution, the Children of Israel derived the now mysterious term “Urím” (lights) and “Thummim” (amulets) from Egypt and the Semitic word (Tamímah) still remains to explain the Hebrew. “Thummim,” I may add, is by “general consensus” derived from “Tôm” = completeness and is englished “Perfection,” but we can find a better origin near at hand in spoken Arabic.
389 These verses have already occurred, see my vol. i. p. 275. I have therefore quoted Payne, i. p. 246.
390 Arab. “Wakíl” who, in the case of a grown-up girl, declares her consent to the marriage in the presence of two witnesses and after part payment of the dowry.
391 Such is the meaning of the Arab. “Thayyib.”
392 This appears to be the popular belief in Egypt. See vol. iv. 297, which assures us that “no thing poketh and stroketh more strenuously than the Gird” (or hideous Ahyssinian cynocephalus). But it must be based upon popular ignorance: the private parts of the monkey although they erect stiffly, like the priapus of Osiris when swearing upon his Phallus, are not of the girth sufficient to produce that friction which is essential to a woman’s pleasure. I may here allude to the general disappointment in England and America caused by the exhibition of my friend Paul de Chaillu’s Gorillas: he had modestly removed penis and testicles, the latter being somewhat like a bull’s, and his squeamishness caused not a little grumbling and sense of grievance — especially amongst the curious sex.
393 [In the MS. “fahakat,” lit. she flowed over like a brimful vessel. — ST.]
It is recounted that in Mosel was a king and he was Lord of moneys and means and troops and guards. Now in the beginning of his career his adventures were strange for that he was not of royal rank or race, nor was he of the sons of Kings but prosperity met him because of the honesty of his manners and morals. His name was Abu Niyyah, the single-minded — and he was so poor that he had naught of worldly weal, so quoth he to himself, “Remove thee from this town and haply Allah will widen thy means of livelihood inasmuch as the byword said, ‘Travel, for indeed much of the joys of life are in travelling.’” So he fixed his mind upon removal from the town; and, having very few articles of his own, he sold them for a single dinar which he took and fared forth from his place of birth seeking another stead. Now when journeying he sighted following him a man who was also on the move and he made acquaintance with him and the two fell to communing together upon the road. Each of the twain wished to know the name of his comrade and Abu Niyyah asked his fellow, saying, “O my brother, what may be thy name?” whereto the other answered, “I am called Abu Niyyatayn — the two-minded.” “And I am Abu Niyyah!” cried the other, and his fellow-traveller questioned him, saying, “Hast thou with thee aught of money?” Whereto he replied, “I have with me a single Ashrafi and no more.” Quoth the other, “But I have ten gold pieces, so do thou have a care of them and the same will be eleven.” Abu Niyyan accepted the charge and they went upon the road together and as often as they entered a town they nighted therein for a single night or two and in the morning they departed therefrom. This continued for a while of time until they made a city which had two gates and Abu Niyyah forewent his fellow through one of the entrances and suddenly heard an asker which was a slave begging and saying, “O ye beneficent, O doers of good deeds, an alms shall bring ten-fold.” And, as the chattel drew near395 and Abu Niyyah noted his words, his heart was softened and he gave him his single Ashrafi; whereupon his comrade looked upon him and asked, “What hast thou doled to him?” Answered he, “An Ashrafi;” and quoth the other, “Thou hast but a single gold piece while I have ten;” so he took the joint stock from him and left him and went his way. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the man Abu Niyyatayn took from Abu Niyyah the ten Ashrafis396 and said to him, “The gold piece belonging to thee thou hast given to the asker;” then, carrying away the other ten he left him and went about his business. Now Abu Niyyah had with him not a single copper neither aught of provaunt so he wandered about the town to find a Cathedral-mosque and seeing one he went into it and made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed that which was incumbent on him of obligatory prayers. Then he seated himself to rest until the hour of the sunset devotions and he said to himself “Ho, Such-an-one! this be a time when no one knoweth thee; so go forth and fare round about the doors and have a heed, haply Allah Almighty our Lord shall give thee somewhat of daily bread thou shalt eat blessing the creator.” Hereupon he went forth the Mosque and wandered through the nearest quarter, when behold, he came upon a lofty gate and a well adorned; so he stood before it and saw a slave lad coming out therefrom and bearing on his head a platter wherein was a pile of broken bread and some bones, and the boy stood there and shook the contents of the platter upon the ground. Abu Niyyah seeing this came forward and fell to picking up the orts of bread and ate them and gnawed the flesh from sundry of the bones until he was satisfied and the slave diverted himself by looking on. After that he cried, “Alhamdolillah — Glory be to God!”397 and the chattel went upstairs to his master and said, “O my lord, I have seen a marvel!” Quoth the other, “And what may that be?” and quoth the servile, “I found a man standing at our door and he was silent and poke not a word; but when he saw me throwing away the remnants398 of our eating-cloth he came up to them and fell to devouring bittocks of the bread and to breaking the bones and sucking them, after which he cried, ‘Alhamdolillah.’” Said the master, “O my good slave, do thou take these ten Ashrafis and give them to the man;” so the lad went down the stair and was half-way when he filched one of the gold-pieces and then having descended he gave the nine. Hereupon Abu Niyyah counted them and finding only nine, said, “There wanted one Ashrafi, for the asker declared, An almsdeed bringeth tenfold, and I gave him a single gold piece.” The house-master heard him saying, “There wanteth an Ashrafi,” and he bade the slave call aloud to him and Abu Niyyah went upstairs to the sitting room, where he found the owner, a merchant of repute, and salam’d to him. The other returned his greeting and said, “Ho fellow!” and the other said “Yes” when the first resumed, “The slave, what did he give thee?” “He gave me,” said Abu Niyyah, “nine Ashrafis;” and the house-master rejoined, “Wherefore didst thou declare, There faileth me one gold piece? Hast thou a legal claim of debt upon us for an Ashrafi, O thou scanty of shame?” He answered, “No, by Allah, O my lord; my intent was not that but there befel me with a man which was a beggar such-and-such matter.” Hereupon the merchant understood his meaning and said to him, “Do thou sit thee down here and pass the night with us.” So Abu Niyyah seated himself by his side and nighted with the merchant until the morning. Now this was the season for the payment of the poor-rates,399 and that merchant was wont to take the sum from his property by weight of scales, so he summoned the official weigher who by means of his balance computed the account and took out the poor-rate and gave the whole proceeds to Abu Niyyah. Quoth he, “O my lord, what shall I do with all this good, especially as thou hast favoured me with thy regard?” “No matter for that,” quoth the other; so Abu Niyyah went forth from the presence of his patron and hiring himself a shop fell to buying what suited him of all kinds of merchandise such as a portion of coffee-beans and of pepper and of tin;400 and stuff of Al-Hind, together with other matters, saying to himself, “Verily this shop is the property of thy hand.” So he sat there selling and buying and he was in the easiest of life and in all comfort rife for a while of time when behold, his quondam companion, Abu Niyyatayn was seen passing along the market-street. His eyes were deep401 sunken and he was propped upon a staff as he begged and cried, “O good folk, O ye beneficent, give me an alms for the love of Allah!” But when his sometime associate, Abu Niyyah looked upon him, he knew him and said to the slave whom he had bought for his service, “Go thou and bring me yonder man.” Hereat the chattel went and brought him and Abu Niyyah seated him upon the shop-board and sent his servile to buy somewhat of food and he set it before Abu Niyyatayn who ate until he was filled. After this the wanderer asked leave to depart but the other said to him, “Sit thou here, O Shaykh; for thou art my guest during the coming night.” Accordingly he seated himself in the shop till the hour of sundown, when Abu Niyyah took him and led him to his lodging where the slave served up the supper-tray and they ate till they had eaten their sufficiency. Then they washed their hands and abode talking together till at last quoth Abu Niyyah, “O my brother, hast thou not recognised me?” to which the other responded, “No, by Allah, O my brother.” Hereupon said the house-master, “I am thy whilome comrade Abu Niyyah, and we came together, I and thou, from such-and-such a place to this city. But I, O my brother, have never changed mine intent402 and all thou seest with me of good, the half thereof belongeth to thee.” When it was morning tide he presented him with the moiety of all he possessed of money and means and opened for him a shop in the Bazar by the side of his own, and Abu Niyyatayn fell to selling and buying, and he and his friend Abu Niyyah led the most joyous of lives. This endured for a while of time until one day of the days when quoth Abu Niyyatayn to Abu Niyyah, “O my brother, we have exhausted our sitting in this city, so do thou travel with us unto another.” Quoth Abu Niyyah, “Why, O my brother, should we cease abiding here in comfort when we have gained abundance of wealth and moveables and valuables and we seek naught save a restful life?” However Abu Niyyatayn ceased not to repeat his words to him and persist in his purpose and reiterate his demand, till Abu Niyyah was pleased with the idea of travelling — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night and the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Abu Niyyah was pleased with the idea of travelling companied with Abu Niyyatayn: so they got themselves ready and loaded a caravan of camels and mules and went off from that city and travelled for a space of twenty days. At last they came to a camping ground about sunset-hour and they alighted therein seeking rest and a nighting stead, and next morning when they arose they sought where they could fodder and water their cattle. Now the only place they could find was a well and one said to other, “Who will descend therein and draw for us drink?” Cried Abu Niyyah, “I will go down” (but he knew not what was fated to him in the Eternal Purpose), and so saying he let himself down by the rope into the well and filled for them the water-buckets till the caravan had its sufficiency. Now Abu Niyyatayn for the excess of his envy and hatred was scheming in his heart and his secret soul to slay Abu Niyyah, and when all had drunk he cut the cord and loaded his beasts and fared away leaving his companion in the well, for the first day and the second until the coming of night. Suddenly two ’Ifrits forgathered in that well and sat down to converse with each other, when quoth the first, “What is to do with thee and how is thy case and what mayest thou be?” Quoth his fellow, “By Allah, O my brother, I am satisfied with extreme satisfaction and I never leave the Sultan’s daughter at all at all.” The second Ifrit asked, “And what would forbid thee from her?” and he answered, “I should be driven away by somewhat of wormwood-powder scattered beneath the soles of her feet during the congregational prayers of Friday.” Then quoth the other, “I also, by Allah, am joyful and exulting in the possession of a Hoard of jewels buried without the town near the Azure Column which serveth as benchmark.”403 “And what,” asked the other to his friend, “would expel thee therefrom and expose the jewels to the gaze of man?” whereto he answered, “A white cock in his tenth month404 slaughtered upon the Azure Column would drive me away from the Hoard and would break the Talisman when the gems would be visible to all.” Now as soon as Abu Niyyah had heard the words of the two Ifrits, they arose and departed from the well; and it was the morning hour when, behold, a caravan was passing by that place, so the travellers halted seeking a drink of water. Presently they let down a bucket which was seized by Abu Niyyah and as he was being drawn up they cried out and asked, “What art thou, of Jinn-kind or of man-kind?” and he answered, “I am of the Sons of Adam.” Hereupon they drew him up from the pit and questioned him of his case and he said, “I have fallen into it and I am sore ahungered.” Accordingly they gave him somewhat to eat and he ate and travelled with them till they entered a certain city and it was on First day.405 So they passed through the market streets which were crowded and found the people in turmoil and trouble;406 and as one enquired the cause thereof he was answered, “Verily the Sultan hath a beautiful daughter who is possessed and overridden by an ’Ifrit, and whoso of the physicians would lay407 the Spirit and is unable or ignorant so to do, the King taketh him and cutteth off his head and hangeth it up before his palace. Indeed of late days a student came hither, a youth who knew nothing of expelling the Evil One, and he accepted the task and the Sultan designeth to smith his neck at this very hour; so the people are flocking with design to divert themselves at the decapitation.” Now when Abu Niyyah heard these words he rose without stay or delay and walked in haste till he came into the presence of the Sultan whom he found seated upon his throne and the Linkman standing with his scymitar brandished over the head of the young student and expecting only the royal order to strike his neck. So Abu Niyyah salam’d to him and said, “O King of the Age, release yonder youth from under the sword and send him to thy prison, for if I avail to laying the Spirit and driving him from thy daughter thou shalt have mercy upon yonder wight, and if I fail thou wilt shorten by the head me as well as him.” Hereupon the King let unbind the youth and sent him to jail; then he said to Abu Niyyah, “Wouldst thou go at once to my daughter and unspell her from the Jinni?” But the other replied, “No, O King, not until Meeting-day408 at what time the folk are engaged in congregational prayers.” Now when Abu Niyyah had appointed the Friday, the King set apart for his guest an apartment and rationed him with liberal rations. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!”
It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Abu Niyyah having appointed the Sultan for Meeting-day, when he would ensorcel the Princess, waited till the morning dawned. Then he went forth to the Bazar and brought him a somewhat of wormwood409 for a silvern Nusf and brought it back, and, as soon as the time of congregational prayers came, the Sultan went forth to his devotions and gave orders that Abu Niyyah be admitted to his daughter whilst the folk were busy at their devotions. Abu Niyyah repaired to his patient, and scattered the Absinthium beneath the soles of her feet, when, lo, and behold! she was made whole, and she groaned and cried aloud, “Where am I?” Hereat the mother rejoiced and whoso were in the Palace; and, as the Sultan returned from the Mosque, he found his daughter sitting sane and sound, after they had dressed her and perfumed her and adorned her, and she met him with glee and gladness. So the two embraced and their joy increased, and the father fell to giving alms and scattering moneys amongst the Fakirs and the miserable and the widows and orphans, in gratitude for his daughter’s recovery. Moreover he also released the student youth and largessed him, and bade him gang his gait. After this the King summoned Abu Niyyah into the presence and said to him, “O young man, ask a boon first of Allah and then of me and let it be everything thou wishest and wantest.” Quoth the other, “I require of thee to wife the damsel from whom I drove away the Spirit,” and the King turning to his Minster said, “Counsel me, O Wazir.” Quoth the other, “Put him off until the morrow;” and quoth the Sultan, “O youth, come back to me hither on the morning of the next day.” Hereupon Abu Niyyah was dismissed the presence, and betimes on the day appointed he came to the Sultan and found the Wazir beside him hending in hand a gem whose like was not to be found amongst the Kings. Then he set it before the Sultan and said to him, “Show it to the Youth and say to him, ‘The dowry of the Princess, my daughter, is a jewel like unto this.’” But whilst Abu Niyyah was standing between his hands the King showed him the gem and repeated to him the words of the Wazir, thinking to himself that it was a pretext for refusing the youth, and saying in his mind, “He will never be able to produce aught like that which the Wazir has brought.” Hereupon Abu Niyyah asked, “An so be I bring thee ten equal to this, wilt thou give me the damsel?” and the King answered, “I will.” The youth went from him when this was agreed upon and fared to the Market Street, where he bought him a white cock in its tenth month, such as had been described by the ’Ifrit, whose plume had not a trace of black or red feathers but was of the purest white. Then he fared without the town and in the direction of the setting sun until he came to the Azure Column, which he found exactly as he had heard it from the Jinni, and going to it, he cut the throat of the cock thereupon, when all of a sudden the earth gaped and therein appeared a chamber full of jewels sized as ostrich eggs. That being the Hoard, he went forth and brought with him ten camels, each bearing two large sacks, and returning to the treasure-room, he filled all of these bags with gems and loaded them upon the beasts. Presently he entered to the Sultan with his string of ten camels and, causing them to kneel in the court-yard of the Divan, cried to him, “Come down, O King of the Age, and take the dowry of thy daughter.” So the Sultan turned towards him and, looking at the ten camels, exclaimed, “By Allah, this youth is Jinn-mad; yet will I go down to see him.” Accordingly he descended the staircase to the place where the camels had been made to kneel, and when the sacks had been unloaded and as the King came amongst them, the bags were opened and were found full of jewels greater and more glorious than the one was with him. Hereupon the Sultan was perplext and his wits were bewildered, and he cried to the Wazir, “Walla-hi! I think that all the Kings of the Earth in its length and its breadth have not one single gem the like of these: but say me how shall I act, O Wazir?” The Minister replied, “Give him the girl.”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night, an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Wazir said to the King, “Give him the girl.” Hereupon the marriage-tie was tied and the bridegroom was led in to the bride, and either rejoiced mightily in his mate,410 and was increased their joy and destroyed was all annoy. Now Abu Niyyah was a favourite of Fortune, so the Sultan appointed him the government during three days of every week, and he continued ruling after that fashion for a while of time. But one day of the days, as he was sitting in his pleasaunce, suddenly the man Abu Niyyatayn passed before him leaning on a palm-stick, and crying, “O ye beneficent, O ye folk of good!” When Abu Niyyah beheld him he said to his Chamberlain, “Hither with yonder man;” and as soon as he was brought he bade them lead him to the Hammam and dress him in a new habit. They did his bidding and set the beggar before his whilome comrade who said to him, “Dost thou know me?” “No, O my lord,” said the other; and he, “I am thy companion of old whom thou wouldst have left to die in the well; but I, by Allah, never changed my intent, and all that I own in this world I will give unto thee half thereof.” And they sat in converse for a while of time, until at last the Double-minded one, “Whence camest thou by all this?” and quoth he, “From the well wherein thou threwest me.” Hereupon from the excess of his envy and malice Abu Niyyatayn said to Abu Niyyah, “I also will go down that well and what to thee was given the same shall be given to me.” Then he left him and went forth from him, and he ceased not faring until he made the place. Presently he descended, and having reached the bottom, there sat until the hour of nightfall, when behold! the two ’Ifrits came and, taking seat by the well-mouth, salam’d each to other. But they had no force nor contrivance and both were as weaklings; so said one of them, “What is thy case, O my brother, and how is thy health?” and said the other, “Ah me, O my brother, since the hour that that I was with thee in this place on such a night, I have been cast out of the Sultan’s daughter, and until this tide I have been unable to approach her or indeed at any other time.” Said his comrade, “I also am like thee, for the Hoard hath forth from me, and I have waxed feeble.”411 then cried the twain, “By Allah, the origin of our losses is from this well, so let us block it up with stones.” Hereupon the twain arose and brought with them crumbling earth and pebbles,412 and threw it down the well when it fell upon Abu Niyyatayn, and his bones were crushed upon his flesh.413 now his comrade, Abu Niyyah, sat expecting him to return, but he came not, so he cried, “Wallahi! needs must I go and look for him in yonder well and see what he is doing.” So he took horse and fared thither and found the pit filled up; so he knew and was certified that his comrade’s intent had been evil, and had cast him into the hands of death. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I should relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Abu Niyyah knew and was certified of his comrade Abu Niyyatayn being dead, so he cried aloud, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great. O Allah mine, do thou deliver me from envy, for that it destroyeth the envier and haply jealousy may lead to frowardness against the Lord (glorified be His Glory!);” and so saying he returned to the seat of his kingdom. Now the Sultan’s daughter his spouse had two sisters, both married,414 and she after the delay of a year or so proved with child, but when her tale of days was told and her delivery was nearhand her father fell sick and his malady grew upon him. So he summoned the Lords of his court and his kingdom one and all, and he said, “In very deed this my son-in-law shall after my decease become my successor;” and he wrote a writ to that purport and devised to him the realm and the reign before his demise; nor was there long delay ere the old King departed to the ruth of Allah and they buried him. Hereupon trouble arose between his two other sons-in-law who had married the Princesses and said they, “We were connected with him ere this man was and we are before him in our claim to the kingdom.” Thereupon said the Wazir, “This rede is other than right, for that the old King before his decease devised his country to this one and also write it in his will and testament: here therefor ye are opposing him, and the result will be trouble and repentance.” And when the Minister spoke on such wise they kept to their houses. Presently the wife of Abu Niyyah bare him a babe, her two sisters being present at her accouchement; and they gave to the midwife an hundred gold pieces and agreed upon what was to be done. So when the babe was born they put in his place a pup and taking the infant away sent it by a slave-girl who exposed it at the gate of the royal garden. Then they said and spread abroad, “Verily, the Sultan’s wife hath been delivered of a doglet,” and when the tidings came to Abu Niyyah’s ears he exclaimed, “Verily this also is a creation of Allah Almighty’s:” so they clothed the pup and tended it with all care. Anon the wife became pregnant a second time and when her days were fulfilled she bare a second babe which was the fairest of its time and the sisters did with it as they had done with the first and taking the infant they exposed him at the door of the garden. Then they brought to the mother another dog-pup in lieu of her babe, saying, “Verily the Queen hath been delivered a second time of a doglet.” Now in this wise it fared with them: but as regards the two infants which were cast away at the garden gate the first was taken up by the Gardener whose wife, by decree of the Decreer, had become a mother on that very same night; so the man carried away the infant he found exposed and brought the foundling home and the woman fell to suckling it. After the third year the Gardener went forth one day of the days and happening upon the second infant in similar case he bore it also back to his wife who began to suckle it and wash it and tend it and nurse it, till the twain grew up and entered into their third and fourth years. The Sultan had in the meantime been keeping the two pups which he deemed to have been brought forth by his wife until the Queen became in the family-way for the third time. Hereupon the Sultan said, “By Allah, ’tis not possible but that I be present at and witness her accouchement;” and the while she was bringing forth he sat beside her. So she was delivered of a girl-child, in whom the father rejoiced with great joy and bade bring for her wet-nurses who suckled her for two years until the milk time was past.415 This girl grew up till she reached the age of four years and she could distinguish between her mother and her father who, whenever he went to the royal garden would take her with him. But when she beheld the Gardener’s two boys she became familiar with them and would play with them; and, as each day ended, her father would carry her away from the children and lead her home, and this parting was grievous to her and she wept right sore. Hereat the Sultan would take also the boys with her until sleep prevailed over her, after which he would send the twain back to their sire the Gardener. But Abu Niyyah the Sultan would ever wonder at the boys and would exclaim, “Praise be to Allah, how beautiful are these dark-skinned children!” This endured until one day of the days when the King entered into the garden and there found that the two beautiful boys416 had taken some clay and were working it into the figures of horses and saddles and weapons of war and were opening the ground and making a water-leat;417 so the Sultan wondered thereat time after time for that he ever found them in similar case. And he marvelled the more because whenever he looked upon them his heart was opened to both and he yearned to the twain and he would give them some gold pieces although he knew not the cause of his affection. Now one day he entered the garden, and he came upon the two boys of whom one was saying, “I am the Sultan!” and the other declaring, “I am the Wazir!” He wondered at their words and forthwith summoned the Gardener and asked him concerning the lads, and lastly quoth he to him, “Say me sooth and fear naught from me.” Quoth the other, “By Allah, O King of the Age, albe falsehood be saving, yet is soothfastness more saving and most saving; and indeed as regards these children the elder was found by me exposed at the gateway of the royal garden on such a night of such a year, and I came upon the second in the very same place; so I carried them to my wife who suckled them and tended them and they say to her, ‘O mother,’ and they say to me, ‘O father.’” Hereupon Abu Niyyah the King returned home and summoning the midwife asked her, saying, “By the virtue of my predecessors in this kingdom, do thou tell me the truth concerning my spouse, whether or no she was delivered of two dog-pups,” and she answered, “No, by Allah, O King of the Age, verily the Queen bare thee two babes like full moons and the cause of their exposure before the garden gate was thy wife’s two sisters who envied her and did with her these deeds whereof she was not aware.”418 hereupon cried Abu Niyyah, “Alhamdolillah — Glory be to God who hat brought about this good to me and hath united me with my children, and soothfast is the say, ‘Whoso doeth an action shall be requited of his Lord and the envious wight hath no delight and of his envy he shall win naught save despight.’”419 Then the King of Mosul, being a man of good intent, did not put to death his wife’s sisters and their husbands, but banished them his realm, and he lived happily with his Queen and children until such time as the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies came to him and he deceased to the mercy of Almighty Allah.
394 In 1821, Scott (p. 214) following Gilchrist’s method of transliterating eastern tongues wrote “Abou Neeut” and “Neeuteen” (the latter a bad blunder making a masc. plural of a fem. dual). In 1822 Edouard Gauttier (vi. 320) gallicised the names to “Abou-Nyout” and “Abou-Nyoutyn” with the same mistake and one superadded; there is no such Arabic word as “Niyút.” Mr. Kirby in 1822, “The New Arabian Nights” (p. 366) reduced the words to “Abu Neut” and “Abu Neuteen,” which is still less intelligible than Scott’s; and, lastly, the well-known Turkish scholar Dr. Redhouse converted the tortured names to “Abú Niyyet” and “Abú Niyyeteyn,” thus rightly giving a “tashdíd” (reduplication sign) to the Yá (see Appendix p. 430 to Suppl. Vol. No iii. and Turk. Dict. sub voce “Niyyat”). The Arab. is “Niyyah” = will, purpose, intent; “Abú Niyyah” (Grammat. “Abú Niyyatin”) Father of one Intent = single-minded and “Abú Niyyatayn” = Father of two Intents or double-minded; and Richardson is deficient when he writes only “Niyat” for “Niyyat.” I had some hesitation about translating this tale which begins with the “Envier and the Envied” (vol. i. 123) and ends with the “Sisters who envied their Cadette” (Supple. vol. iii. 313). But the extant versions of it are so imperfect in English and French that I made up my mind to include it in this collection. —[Richardson’s “Niyat” is rather another, although rarer form of the same word. — St.]
395 [I read: “wa tukarribu ’I-’abda ilayya,” referring the verb to “al-Sadakh” (the alms) and translating: “and it bringeth the servant near to me,” the speaker, in Coranic fashion supposed to be Allah. — St.]
396 The text prefers the Egyptian form “Sherífi” pl. “Sherífíyah,” which was adopted by the Portuguese.
397 The grace after meat, “Bismillah” being that which precedes it. Abu Niyyah was more grateful than a youth of my acquaintance who absolutely declined asking the Lord to “make him truly thankful” after a dinner of cold mutton.
398 [The root “Kart” is given in the dictionaries merely to introduce the word “karít” = complete, speaking of a year, &c., and “Takrít,” the name of a town in Mesopotamia, celebrated for its velvets and as the birth-place of Saladin. According to the first mentioned word I would take the signification of “Kart” to “complement” which here may fitly be rendered by “remainder,” for that which with regard to the full contents of the dinner tray is their complement would of course be their remainder with regard to the viands that have been eaten. — St.]
399 For the “Zakát” = legal alms, which must not be less than two-and-a-half per cent, see vol. i. 339.
400 In text “Kazdír,” for which see vols. iv. 274 and vi. 39. Here is may allude to the canisters which make great show in the general store of a petty shopkeeper.
401 [The MS. reads “murafraf” (passive) from, “Rafraf” = a shelf, arch, anything overhanging something else, there here applying either to the eyebrows as overhanging the eyes, or to the sockets, as forming a vault or cave for them. Perhaps it should be “murafrif” (active part), used of a bird, who spreads his wings and circles round his prey, ready to pounce upon it; hence with prying, hungry, greedy eyes. — St.]
402 Arab. “Niyyah” with the normal pun upon the name.
403 Arab. “’Amil Rasad,” lit. acting as an observatory: but the style is broken as usual, and to judge from the third line below the sentence may signify “And I am acting as Talisman (to the Hoard)”.
404 In the text “Ishári,” which may have many meanings: I take a “shot” at the most likely. In “The Tale of the Envier and the Envied” the counter-spell in a fumigation by means of some white hair plucked from a white spot, the size of a dirham, at the tail-end of a black tom-cat (vol. i. 124). According to the Welsh legend, “the Devil hates cocks”— I suppose since that fowl warned Peter of his fall.
405 In text “Yaum al-Ahad,” which begins the Moslem week: see vols. iii. 249, and vi. 190.
406 [In Ar. “Harj wa Laght.” The former is generally joined with “Marj” (Harj wa Marj) to express utter confusion, chaos, anarchy. “Laght” (also pronounced Laghat and written with the palatal “t”) has been mentioned supra p. 11 as a synonym of “Jalabah” = clamour, tumult, etc. — St.]
407 [In Ar. “yahjubu,” aor. Of “hajaba” = he veiled, put out of sight, excluded, warded off. Amongst other significations the word is technically used of a nearer degree of relationship excluding entirely or partially a more distant one from inheritance. — St.]
408 Arab. “Yaum al-Jum’ah” = Assembly-day, Friday: see vol. vi. 120.
409 A regular Badawi remedy. This Artemisia (Arab. Shayh), which the Dicts. translate “wormwood of Pontus,” is the sweetest herb of the Desert, and much relished by the wild men: see my “Pilgrimage,” vol. i. 228. The Finnish Arabist Wallin, who died Professor of Arabic at Helsingfors, speaks of a “Faráshat al-Shayh” = a carpet of wormwood.
410 “Sáhibi-h,” the masculine; because, as the old grammar tells us, that gender is more worthy than the feminine.
411 i.e., his strength was in the old: see vol. i. 340.
412 Arab. “Haysumah” = smooth stones (water-rounded?).
413 For “his flesh was crushed upon his bones,” a fair specimen of Arab. “Metonomy-cum-hyperbole.” In the days when Mr. John Bull boasted of his realism versus Gallic idealism, he “got wet to the skin” when M. Jean Crapaud was mouillé jusqu’aux os.
For the Angels supposed to haunt a pure and holy well, and the trick played by Ibn Túmart, see Ibn Khaldun’s Hist. of the Berbers, vol. ii. 575.
414 Here begins the second tale which is a weak replica of Galland’s “Two Sisters,” &c.
415 This is the usual term amongst savages and barbarians, and during that period the father has no connection with the mother. Civilisation has abolished this natural practice which is observed by all the lower animals and has not improved human matters. For an excellent dissertation on the subject see the letter on Polygamy by Mrs. Belinda M. Pratt, in “The City of the Saints,” p. 525.
416 In text “Kuwayyis,” dim. of “Kayyis,” and much used in Egypt as an adj. = “pretty,” “nice,” and as an adv. “well,” “nicely.” See s.v. Spitta Bey’s Glossary to Contes Arabes Modernes. The word is familiar to the travellers in the Nile-valley.
417 In Arab. a “Kanát;” see vol. iii. 141. The first occupation came from nature; the second from seeing the work of the adopted father.
418 Abu Niyyah, like most house masters in the East, not to speak of Kings, was the last to be told a truth familiar to everyone but himself and his wife.
419 The MS. breaks off abruptly at this sentence and evidently lacks finish. Scott (vi., 228) adds, “The young princes were acknowledged and the good Abou Neeut had the satisfaction of seeing them grow up to follow his example.”
In the MS. this tale is followed by a “Story of his own Adventures related by a connection to an Emir of Egypt.” I have omitted it because it is a somewhat faded replica of “The Lovers of the Banú Ozrah” (Vol. vii. 177; Lane iii. 247).
The reader will not understand this allusion (Foreword, p. ix.) without some connaissance de cause. I would apologise for deforming the beautiful serenity and restfulness of The Nights by personal matter of a tone so jarring and so discordant a sound, the chatter and squabble of European correspondence and contention; but the only course assigned to me perforce is that of perfect publicity. The first part of the following papers appeared by the editor’s kindness in “The Academy” of November 13, 1886. How strange the contrast of “doings” with “sayings,” if we compare the speech reported to have been delivered by Mr. Librarian Nicholson at the opening of the Birmingham Free Public Central Lending and Reference Libraries, on June 1, 1882:—
“As for the Bodleian, I claim your sympathies, not merely because we are trying to do as much for our readers as you are for yours, but because, if the building which you have opened to-day is the newest free public library in the world, the building which I left earlier in the morning is the oldest free public library in the world. (No!) I call it a free public library because any Birmingham artizan who came to us with a trustworthy recommendation might ask to have the rarest gem in our collection placed before him, and need have no fear of asking in vain; and because, if a trusty Birmingham worker wanted the loan of a MS. for three months, it would be lent to the Central Free Library for his use.” See Twentieth and Twenty-first Annual Reports of the Free Libraries Committee (Borough of Birmingham), 1883.
And now to my story. The play opens with the following letter:—
23, DORSET STREET, PORTMAN SQUARE,
Sept. 13, 1886.
“Sir,
“I have the honour to solicit your assistance in the following matter:—
“Our friend Dr. Steingass has kindly consented to collaborate with me in re-translating from the Wortley Montague MS. of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, the tales originally translated in vol. vi. of Dr. Jonathan Scott’s ‘Arabian Nights.’ Dr. Steingass cannot leave town, and I should find it very inconvenient to live at Oxford during the work, both of us having engagements in London. It would be a boon to us if the Curators of the Bodleian would allow the MS. to be transferred, volume by volume, to the India Office, and remain under the custody of the Chief Librarian — yourself. The whole consists of seven volumes, as we would begin with vols. iii. and iv. I may note that the translated tales (as may be seen by Scott’s version) contain nothing indelicate or immoral; in fact the whole MS. is exceptionally pure. Moreover, the MS., as far as I can learn, is never used at Oxford. I am the more anxious about this matter as the November fogs will presently drive me from England, and I want to end the extracts ere winter sets in, which can be done only by the co-operation of Dr. Steingass.
I have the honour to be, sir,
Yours obediently,
(Signed) RICHARD F. BURTON.”
“DR. R. ROST,
Chief Librarian, India Office.”
As nearly a month had elapsed without my receiving any reply, I directed the following to the Vice-Chancellor of the University, Rev. Dr. Bellamy:—
ATHENAEUM CLUB, PALL MALL,
Oct. 13, 1886.
“Sir,
“I have the honour to submit to you the following details:—
“On September 13, 1886, I wrote to Dr. Rost, Chief Librarian, India Office, an official letter requesting him to apply to the Curators of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, for the temporary transfer of an Arabic Manuscript, No. 522 (the Wortley Montague text of the Arabian Nights) to the library of the India Office, there to be kept under special charge of the Chief Librarian. There being seven volumes, I wanted only one or two at a time. I undertook not to keep them long, and, further, I pledged myself not to translate tales that might be deemed offensive to propriety.
“Thus, I did not apply for a personal loan of the MS. which, indeed, I should refuse on account of the responsibility which it would involve. I applied for the safe and temporary transfer of a work, volume by volume, from one public library to another.
“My official letter was forwarded at once by Dr. Rost, but this was the only expeditious step. On Saturday, September 25, the Curators could form no quorum; the same thing took place on Saturday, October 9; and there is a prospect that the same will take place on Saturday, October 23.
“I am acquainted with many of the public libraries of Europe, but I know of none that would throw such obstacles in the way of students.
“The best authorities inform me that until June, 1886, the signatures of two Curators enabled a student to borrow a book or a manuscript; but that since June a meeting of three Curators has been required; and that a lesser number does not form a quorum.
“May I be permitted to suggest that the statute upon the subject of borrowing books and manuscripts urgently calls for revision?
I have the honour to be, sir,
Yours obediently,
(Signed) RICHARD F. BURTON.
“THE VICE-CHANCELLOR, OXFORD.”
The Curators presently met and the following was the highly unsatisfactory result which speaks little for “Bodleian” kindness or courtesy:—
Monday, Nov. 1, 1886.
“DEAR SIR RICHARD BURTON,
“The Curators considered your application on Saturday, Oct. 30, afternoon, and the majority of them were unwilling to lend the MS420
Yours very truly,
(Signed) EDWARD B. NICHOLSON.”
420 Mr. Chandler remarks (p. 25, “On Lending Bodleian Books, &c."):—“It is said that the Curators can refuse any application if they choose; of course they can, but as a matter of fact no application has ever been refused, and every name added will make it more and more difficult, more and more invidious to refuse anyone.” I have, therefore, the singular honour of being the first chosen for rejection.
Learning through a private source that my case had been made an unpleasant exception to a long-standing rule of precedent, and furthermore that it had been rendered peculiarly invidious by an act of special favour,421 I again addressed the Vice-Chancellor, as follows:—
23, DORSET STREET, PORTMAN SQUARE,
November 3rd, 1886.
“Sir,
“I have the honour to remind you that, on October 13, I communicated with you officially requesting a temporary transfer of the Wortley Montague manuscript (Arabian Nights) from the Bodleian Library to the personal care of the Librarian, India Office.
“To this letter I received no reply. But on November 1, I was informed by Mr. Librarian Nicholson that the Curators had considered my application on Saturday, October 30, and that the majority of them were unwilling to lend the manuscript.
“The same Curators at the same meeting allowed sundry manuscripts for the use of an Indian subject to be sent to the India Office.
“I cannot but protest against this invidious proceeding, and I would willingly learn what cause underlies it.
“1. It cannot be the importance of the manuscript, which is one of the meanest known to me — written in a schoolmaster character, a most erroneous, uncorrected text, and valuable only for a few new tales.
“2. It cannot be any consideration of public morals, for I undertook (if the loan were granted) not to translate tales which might be considered offensive to strict propriety.
“3. It cannot be its requirement for local use. The manuscript stands on an upper shelf in the manuscript room, and not one man in the whole so-called ‘University’ can read it.
I have the honour to be, sir,
Yours obediently,
RICHARD F. BURTON.”
“THE VlCE-CHANCELLOR, OXFORD.”
421 Mr. Chandler’s motion (see p. 28, “Booklending, &c.") was defeated by an amendment prepared by Professor Jowett and the former fought, with mixed success, the report of the Committee of Loans; the document being so hacked as to become useless, and, in this mangled condition, it was referred back to the Committee with a recommendation to consider the best way of carrying out the present statute. The manly and straightforward course of at once proposing a new statute was not adopted, nor was it even formally proposed. Lastly, the applications for loans, which numbered sixteen were submitted to the magnates and were all refused! whilst the application of an Indian subject that MSS. be sent to the India Office for his private use was at once granted. In my case Professors B. Price and Max Müller, who had often voted for loans, and were willing enough to lend anything to anybody, declined to vote.
In due time came the reply:—
ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE, OXFORD,
November 6th, 1886.
“Dear Sir,
“I will remove from your mind the belief that I treated your former letter with discourtesy.
“I may say, that it did not appear to me to contain any question or request which I could answer. You informed me that you had made formal application in September for a loan of MSS., and your letter was to complain of the delay in considering this request. You told me that you had learned from the Librarian the cause of the delay (the want of a quorum), and that he had intimated that there would probably be no meeting formed before October 30th.
“You complained of this, and suggested that the statute regulating the lending of the Bodleian books should be speedily revised.
“As I had no power to make a quorum, nor to engage that your suggestion should be adopted; and as your letter made no demand for any further information, I thought it best to reserve it for the meeting of the 30th, when I communicated it to the Curators.
“I will lay the letter (dated November 3rd), with which you have favoured me, before the next meeting of the Curators.
I beg to remain,
Yours faithfully,
(Signed) J. BELLAMY.”
“SIR R. F. BURTON.”
To resume this part of the subject.
The following dates show that I was kept waiting six weeks before being finally favoured with the curtest of refusals:
Application made on September 13th, and sent on.
On Saturday, September 25th, Curators could not form quorum, and deferred next meeting till Saturday, October 9th.
Saturday, October 9th. Again no quorum; and yet it might easily have been formed, as three Curators were on or close to the spot.
Saturday, October 23rd. Six Curators met and did nothing.
Saturday, October 30th. Curators met and refused me the loan of MS.
My letter addressed to the Vice-Chancellor was read, and notice was given for Saturday (December 3rd, 1886) of a motion, “That the MS. required by Sir R. F. Burton be lent to him”— and I was not to be informed of the matter unless the move were successful. Of course it failed. One of the Curators (who are the delegates and servants of Convocation) was mortally offended by my letter to “The Academy,” and showed the normal smallness of the official mind by opposing me simply because I told the truth concerning the laches of his “learned body.”
Meanwhile I had addressed the following note to the Most Honourable the Chancellor of the University.422
23, DORSET STREET, PORTMAN SQUARE,
November 30th, 1886.
“MY LORD,
“I deeply regret that the peculiar proceedings of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, necessitate a reference to a higher authority with the view of eliciting some explanation.
“The correspondence which has passed between the Curators of the Bodleian Library and myself will be found in the accompanying printed paper.
“Here it may be noticed that the Committee of the Orientalist Congress, Vienna, is preparing to memorialise H.M.’s Secretary of State, praying that Parliament will empower the British Museum to lend out Oriental MSS. under proper guarantees. The same measure had been proposed at the Leyden Congress of 1883; and thus an extension, rather than a contraction of the loan-system has found favour with European savants.423
“I believe, my Lord, that a new statute upon the subject of the Bodleian loans of books and MSS. is confessedly required, and that it awaits only the initiative of the Chancellor of the University, without whose approval it cannot be passed.
I have, &c.,
(Signed) RICHARD F. BURTON.”
“THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE CHANCELLOR.”
422 According to the statutes, “The Chancellor must be acquainted with the Business (of altering laws concerning the Library), and he must approve, and refer it to the Head of Houses, else no dispensation can be proposed.”
423 The following telegram from the Vienna correspondent of “The Times” (November 16, 1886), is worth quotation:—
“The Committee of the Vienna Congress (of Orientalists) is now preparing a memorial, which will be signed by Archduke Renier, and will be forwarded in a few days to the trustees of the British Museum and to the Secretary of State, praying that a Bill may be introduced into Parliament empowering the British Museum to lend out its Oriental MSS. to foreign savants under proper guarantees. A resolution pledging the members of the Oriental Congress to this course was passed at the Congress of Leyden, in 1883, on the motion of Professor D. H. Müller, of Vienna; but it has not yet been acted upon so thoroughly as will be the case now.
“The British Museum is the only great library in Europe which does not lend out its MSS. to foreigners. The university and court libraries of Vienna, the royal and state libraries of Berlin and Munich, those of Copenhagen and Leyden, and Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris all are very liberal in their loans to well-recommended foreigners. In Paris a diplomatic introduction is required. In Munich the library does not lend directly to the foreign borrower; but sends to the library of the capital whence the borrower may have made his application, and leaves all responsibility to that library. In the other libraries, the discretion is left to the librarian, who generally lends without any formalities beyond ascertaining the bona fides and trustworthiness of the applicant. In Vienna, however, there has occasionally been some little excess of formality, so a petition is about to be presented to the Emperor by the University professors, begging that the privilege of borrowing may be considered as general, and not as depending on the favour of an official.
“As regards Oriental MSS., it is remarked that the guarantees need not be so minute as in the case of old European MSS., which are often unique copies. According to the learned Professor of Sanskrit in this city, Herr George Bühler, there are very few unique Oriental MSS. in existence of Sanskrit — perhaps not a dozen.”
My object being only publicity I was not disappointed by the following reply:—
HATFIELD HOUSE, HATFIELD, HERTS,
December 1st, 1886.
“DEAR SIR RICHARD,
“I beg to acknowledge your letter of the 30th of November with enclosure.
“I have, however, no power over the Bodleian Library, and, therefore, I am unable to assist you.
Yours, very truly,
(Signed) SALISBURY.”
“SIR RICHARD F. BURTON, K.C.M.G.”
On January 29, 1887, there was another “Bodleian Meeting,” all the Curators save one being present and showing evident symptoms of business. The last application on the list of loans entered on the Agenda paper ran thus:—
V MS. Bodl. Vols. 550-556 to the British Museum (the 7 vols. successively) for the use of Mr. F. F. Arbuthnot’s Agent.
[The MS. lately refused to Sir R. Burton. Mr. Arbuthnot wishes to have it copied.]
It was at once removed by the Regius Professor of Divinity (Dr. Ince) and carried nem. con. that, until the whole question of lending Bodleian books and MSS. then before Council, be definitely settled, no applications be entertained; and thus Professor Van Helton, Bernard Kolbach and Mr. Arbuthnot were doomed, like myself, to be disappointed.
On January 31, 1887, a hebdomadal Council was called to deliberate about a new lending statute for submission to Convocation; and an amendment was printed in the “Oxford University Gazette.” It proposed that the Curators by a vote of two-thirds of their body, and at least six forming a quorum, might lend books or MSS. to students, whether graduates or not; subject, when the loans were of special value, to the consent of Convocation. Presently the matter was discussed in “The Times” (January 25th; April 28th; and May 31st), which simply re-echoed the contention of Mr. Chandler’s vigorous pamphlets.424 Despite the letters of its correspondent “F. M. M.” (May 6th, 1887), a “host in himself,” who ought to have added the authority of his name to the sensible measures which he propounded, the leading journal took a sentimental view of “Bodley’s incomparable library” and strongly advocated its being relegated to comparative inutility.
On May 31, 1887, an amendment practically forbidding all loans came before the House. In vain Professor Freeman declared that a book is not an idol but a tool which must wear out sooner or later. To no purpose Bodley’s Librarian proved that of 460,000 printed volumes in the collection only 460 had been lent out, and of these only one had been lost. THE AMENDMENT FORBIDDING THE PRACTICE OF LENDING WAS CARRIED BY 106 VOTES TO 60.
Personally I am not dissatisfied with this proceeding. It is retrograde legislation befitting the days when books were chained to the desks. It suffers from a fatal symptom — the weakness of extreme measures. And the inevitable result in the near future will be a strong reaction: Convocation will presently be compelled to adopt some palliation for the evil created by its own folly.
The next move added meanness to inertness. I do not blame Mr. E. B. Nicholson, Bodley’s Librarian, because he probably had orders to write the following choice specimen:
30/3/1887.
“DEAR SIR RICHARD BURTON,
“I have received two vols. of four (read six) ‘Supplemental Nights’ with a subscription form. If a Bodleian MS. is to be copied for any volume, I must stipulate that that volume be supplied to us gratis. Either my leave or that of the Curators is required for the purpose of copying for publication, and I have no doubt that they would make the same stipulation. I feel sure you would in any case not propose to charge us for such a volume, but until I hear from you I am in a difficulty as to how to reply to the subscription form I have received.
Yours faithfully,
(Signed) E. B. NICHOLSON,
Librarian.”
424 (1.) “On Lending Bodleian Books and Manuscripts” (not published). June 10, 1866; (2) Appendix. Barlow’s Argument. June, 1866; (3) On Book-lending as practised at the Bodleian Library. July 27, 1886; Baxter, Printer, Oxford. The three papers abound in earnestness and energy; but they have the “defects of their qualities,” as the phrase is; and the subject often runs away with the writer. A single instance will suffice. No. i. p. 23 says, “In a library like the Bodleian, where the practice of lending prevails as it now does, a man may put himself to great inconvenience in order to visit it; he may even travel from Berlin, and when he arrives he may find that all his trouble has been in vain, the very book he wants is out.” This must have been written during the infancy of Sir Rowland Hill, and when telegrams were unknown to mankind; all that the Herr has to do in our times is to ask per wire if the volume be at home or not.
The able and energetic papers, two printed and one published by Mr. H. W. Chandler, of Pembroke College, Oxford, clearly prove the following facts:—
1. That on June 20, 1610, a Bodleian Statute peremptorily forbade any books or manuscripts being taken out of the Library.
2. That, despite the peremptory and categorical forbiddance by Bodley, Selden, and others, of lending Bodleian books and MSS., loans of both have for upwards of two centuries formed a precedent.
3. That Bodley’s Statute (June 20th, An. 1610) was formally and officially abrogated by Convocation on May 22nd, 1856; Convocation retaining the right to lend.
4. That a “privileged list” of (113) borrowers presently arose and is spoken of as a normal practice:--sicut mos fuit, says the Statute (Tit. xx. iii. § 11) of 1873; and, lastly,
5. That loans of MSS. and printed books have for years been authorised to approved public libraries.
After these premises I proceed to notice other points bearing upon the subject which, curious to say, are utterly neglected or rather ignored by Mr. Chandler and “The Times.” Sir Thomas Bodley never would have condemned students to study in the Bodleian had he known the peines fortes et dures to which in these days they are thereby doomed. “So picturesque and so peculiar is its construction,” says a writer, “that it ensures the maximum of inefficiency and discomfort.” The whole building is a model of what a library ought not to be. It is at once over solid and ricketty: room for the storage of books is wanted, and its wooden staircases, like touchwood or tinder, give one the shudders to think of fire. True, matches and naked lights are forbidden in the building; but all know how these prohibitions are regarded by the public, and it is dreadful to think of what might result from a lucifer dropped at dark upon the time-rotten planks. The reading public in the XIXth century must content itself with boxes or stalls, like those of an old-fashioned tavern or coffee-house of the humbler sort wherein two readers can hardly find room for sitting back to back. The atmosphere is unpleasant and these mean little cribs, often unduly crowded, are so dark that after the 1st October the reading-room must be closed at 3 p.m. What a contrast are the treasures in the Bodleian with their mean and miserable surroundings and the way in which the public is allowed to enjoy them. The whole establishment calls urgently for reform. Accommodation for the books is wanted; floor and walls will hardly bear the weight which grows every year at an alarming ratio — witness the Novel-room. The model Bodleian would be a building detached and isolated, the better to guard its priceless contents, and containing at least double the area of the present old and obsolete Bibliotheca. An establishment of the kind was proposed in 1857; but unfortunately, the united wisdom of the University preferred new “Examination Schools” for which the old half-ruinous pile would have been sufficiently well fitted. The “Schools,” however, were for the benefit of the examiners; ergo the scandalous sum of £100,000 (some double the amount) was wasted upon the well-nigh useless Gothic humbug in High Street, and thus no money was left for the prime want of the city. After some experience of public libraries and reading-rooms on the Continent of Europe I feel justified in asserting that the Bodleian in its present condition is a disgrace to Oxford; indeed a dishonour to letters in England.
The Bodleian has a succursale, the Radcliffe, which represents simply a step from bad to worse. The building was intended for an especial purpose, the storage of books, not for a salle de lecture. Hence the so-called “Camera” is a most odious institution, a Purgatory to readers. It is damp in the wet season from October to May; stuffy during the summer heats and a cave of Eolus in windy weather: few students except the youngest and strongest, can support its changeable and nerve-depressing atmosphere. Consequently the Camera is frequented mainly by the townsfolk, a motley crew who there study their novels and almanacs and shamefully misuse the books.425 In this building lights, forbidden by the Bodleian, are allowed; it opens at 10 a.m. and closes at 10 p.m.. and the sooner it reverts to its original office of a book-depôt the better.
But the Bodleian-Radcliffe concern is typical of the town and, if that call for reform, so emphatically does
“Oxford, that scarce deserves the name of land.”
From my childhood I had heard endless tirades and much of what is now called “blowing” about this ancient city, and my youth (1840-42) suffered not a little disappointment. The old place, still mostly resembling an overgrown monastery-village, lies in the valley of the Upper Thames, a meadowland drained by two ditches; the bigger or Ise, classically called the Isis, and the lesser the Charwell. This bottom is surrounded by high and healthy uplands, not as the guide-books say “low scarce-swelling hills that softly gird the old town;” and these keep off the winds and make the riverine valley, with its swamped meads and water-meadows, more fenny and feverish even than Cambridge. The heights and woods bring on a mild deluge between October 1st and May 1st; the climate is rainy as that of Shap in Westmoreland (our old home) and, as at Fernando Po and Singapore, the rain it raineth more or less every day during one half of the year. The place was chosen by the ancient Britons for facility of water transport, but men no longer travel by the Thames and they have naturally neglected the older road. Throughout England, indeed a great national work remains to be done. Not a river, not a rivulet, but what requires cleaning out and systematic excavation by élevateurs and other appliances of the Suez Canal. The channels filled up by alluvium and choked by the American weed, are now raised so high that the beds can no longer act as drains: at Oxford for instance the beautiful meadows of Christ Church are little better than swamps and marshes, the fittest homes for Tergiana, Ouartana and all the fell sisterhood: a blue fog broods over the pleasant site almost every evening, and a thrust with the umbrella opens up water. This is the more inexcusable as the remedy would be easy and by no means costly: the river-mud, if the ignorant peasants only knew the fact, forms the best of manures; and this, instead of being deposited in spoil-heaps on the banks for the rain to wash back at the first opportunity, should be carried by tram-rails temporarily laid down and be spread over the distant fields, thus almost paying for the dredge works. Of course difficulties will arise: the management of the Thames is under various local “Boards,” and each wooden head is able and aye ready to show its independence and ill temper at the sacrifice of public interests to private fads.
Hence the climate of Oxford is detestable. Strong undergraduates cannot withstand its nervous depression and the sleeplessness arising from damp air charged with marsh gases and bacteria. All students take time to become acclimatized here, and some are never acclimatized at all. And no wonder, when the place is drained by a fetid sewer of greenish yellow hue containing per 10,000, 245 parts of sewage. The only tolerable portion of the year is the Long Vacation, when the youths in mortar-boards all vanish from the view, while many of the oldsters congregate in the reformed convents called Colleges.
Climate and the resolute neglect of sanitation are probably the chief causes why Oxford never yet produced a world-famous and epoch-making man, while Cambridge can boast of Newton and Darwin. The harlequin city of domes and spires, cribs and slums shows that curious concurrence of opposites so common in England. The boasted High Street is emblematical of the place, where moral as well as material extremes meet and are fain to dwell side by side. It is a fine thoroughfare branching off into mere lanes, neither these nor that apparently ever cleaned. The huge buildings of scaling, mouldering stone are venerable-looking piles which contrast sadly with the gabled cottages of crepi, hurlin, or wattle and dab; and the brand-new store with its plate-glass windows hustles the old-fashioned lollipop-shop. As regards minor matters there are new market passages but no Public Baths; and on Sundays, the stands are destitute of cabs, although with that queer concession to democracy which essentially belongs to the meaner spirited sort of Conservatism, “‘busses” are allowed to ply after 2 p.m., when the thunder of bells somewhat abates.
Old “Alma Mater,” who to me has ever been a “durissima noverca,” dubs herself “University;” and not a few of her hopefuls entre faiblesse et folie, still entitle themselves “University men.” The title once belonged to Oxford but now appertains to it no more. Compare with it the model universities of Berlin, Paris and Vienna, where the lists of lecturers bear the weightiest names in the land. Oxford is but a congeries of twenty-one colleges and five halls or hostels, each educating its pupils (more or less) with an especial eye to tutors’ fees and other benefices, the vested rights of the “Dons.” Thus all do their best to prevent the scholars availing themselves of University, as opposed to Collegiate, lectures; and thus they can stultify a list of some sixty-six professors. This boarding-school system is simply a dishonest obstacle to students learning anything which may be of use to them in after-life, such as modern and Oriental languages, chemistry, anthropology and the other -ologies. Here in fact men rarely progress beyond the Trivium and the Quadrivium of the Dark Ages, and tuition is a fine study of the Res scibilis as understood by the Admirable Crichton and other worthies, circa A.D. 1500. The students of Queen Elizabeth’s day would here — and here only — find themselves in congenial company. Worse still, Oxford is no longer a “Seat of learning” or a “House of the Muses,” nor can learned men be produced under the present system. The place has become a collection of finishing schools, in fact little better than a huge board for the examination of big boys and girls.
Oxford and her education are thoroughly disappointing; but the sorest point therein is that this sham University satisfies the hapless Public, which knows nothing about its fainéance. It is a mere stumbling-block in the way of Progress especially barring the road to one of the main wants of English Education, a great London University which should not be ashamed to stand by Berlin, Paris and Vienna.
Had the good knight and “Pious Founder,” Sir Thomas Bodley, who established his library upon the ruins of the University Bibliotheca wrecked by the “Reformation,” been able to foresee the condition of Oxford and her libraries — Bodleian and Radcliffean — in this latter section of the XIXth century, he would hardly, I should hope, have condemned English students and Continental scholars to compulsory residence and labour in places so akin to the purgatorial.
425 Chandler, “On Lending Bodleian Books,” etc., p. 18.
There was in the city of Cairo a merchant, and one day he bought a slave-girl, and took her to his house. There was in his house an ape; this the merchant fetched and dragged up to the slave-girl. He said, “Yield thyself over to this, and I will set thee free.” The slave-girl did so of necessity, and she conceived by him. When her time was come she bare a son all of whose members were shaped like those of a man, save that he had a tail like an ape. The merchant and the slave-girl occupied themselves bringing up this son. One day, when the son was five or six months old, the merchant filled a large cauldron with milk, and lighted a great fire under it. When it was boiling, he seized the son and cast him into the cauldron; and the girl began to lament. The merchant said, “Be silent, make no lamentation; go and be free;” and he gave her some sequins. Then he turned, and the cauldron had boiled so that not even any bones were left. The merchant took down the cauldron, and placed seven strainers, one above the other; and he took the scum that had gathered on the liquid in the cauldron and filtered it through the seven strainers, and he took that which was in the last and put it into a bottle. And the slave-girl bare in her heart bitter hatred against the merchant, and she said in herself, “Even as thou hast burned my liver will I burn thee;” and she began to watch her opportunity. (One day) the merchant said to her, “Make ready some food,” and went out. So the girl cooked the food, and she mixed some of that poison in the dish. When the merchant returned she brought the tray and laid it down, and then withdrew into a corner. The merchant took a spoonful of that food, and as soon as he put it into his mouth, he knew it to be the poison, and he cast the spoon that was in his hand at the girl. A piece, of the bigness of a pea, of that poisoned food fell from the spoon on the girl’s hand, and it made the place where it fell black. As for the merchant, he turned all black, and swelled till he became like a blown-out skin, and he died. But the slave-girl medicined herself and became well; and she kept what remained of the poison and sold it to those who asked for it.
There was of old time a tailor, and he had a fair wife. One day this woman sent her slave-girl to the carder’s to get some cotton teased. The slave-girl went to the carder’s shop and gave him cotton for a gown to get teased. The carder while teasing the cotton displayed his yard to the slave-girl. She blushed and passed to his other side. As she thus turned round the carder displayed his yard on that side also. Thus the slave-girl saw it on that side too. And she went and said to her mistress, “Yon carder, to whom I went, has two yards.” The lady said to her, “Go and say to yon carder, ‘My mistress wishes thee; come at night.’” So the slave-girl went and said this to the carder. As soon as it was night the carder went to that place and waited. The woman went out and met the carder and said, “Come and have to do with me while I am lying by my husband.” When it was midnight the carder came and waked the woman. The woman lay conveniently and the carder fell to work. She felt that the yard which entered her was but one, and said, “Ah my soul, carder, at it with both of them.” While she was softly speaking her husband awaked and asked, “What means thy saying, ‘At it with both of them?’” He stretched out his hand to his wife’s kaze and the carder’s yard came into it. The carder drew himself back and his yard slipped out of the fellow’s hand, and he made shift to get away. The fellow said, “Out on thee, wife, what meant that saying of thine, ‘At it with both of them?’” The woman said, “O husband, I saw in my dream that thou wast fallen into the sea and wast swimming with one hand and crying out, ‘Help! I am drowning!’ I shouted to thee from the shore, ‘At it with both of them,’ and thou begannest to swim with both thy hands.” Then the husband said, “Wife, I too know that I was in the sea, from this that a wet fish came into my hand and then slipped out and escaped; thou speakest truly.” And he loved his wife more than before.
They tell that there was a Khoja and he had an exceeding fair son, who was so beautiful that he who looked upon him was confounded. This Khoja watched over his son right carefully; he let him not come forth from a certain private chamber, and he left not the ribbon of his trousers unsealed. When the call to prayer was chanted from the minaret, the boy would ask his father saying, “Why do they cry out thus?” and the Khoja would answer, “Someone has been undone and has died, and they are calling out to bury him.” And the boy believed these words. The beauty of this boy was spoken of in Persia; and a Khoja came from Persia to Baghdad with his goods and chattels for the love of this boy. And he struck up a friendship with the boy’s father, and ever gave to him his merchandise at an easy price, and he sought to find out where his son abode. When the Khoja had discovered that the boy was kept safe in that private chamber, he one day said to his father, “I am about to go to a certain place; and I have a chest whereinto I have put whatsoever I possess of valuables; this I shall send to thee, and do thou take it and shut it up in that chamber where thy son is.” And the father answered, “Right gladly.” So the Khoja let build a chest so large that he himself might lie in it, and he put therein wine and all things needful for a carouse. Then he said to his servant, “Go, fetch a porter and take this chest to the house of Khoja Such-an-one, and say, ‘My master has sent this to remain in your charge,’ and leave it and come away. And again on the morrow go and fetch it, saying, ‘My master wishes the chest.’” So the servant went for a porter, and the Khoja hid himself in the chest. Then the boy laded the porter with the chest and took it to the other Khoja’s house, where he left it and went away. When it was night the Khoja came forth from the chest, and he saw a moon-face sleeping in the bed-clothes, and a candle was burning in a candlestick at his head; and when the Khoja beheld this he was confounded and exclaimed, “And blessed be God, the fairest of Creators!”426 Then the Khoja laid out the wine and so forth; and he went up softly and waked the boy. And the boy arose from his place and addressed himself to speak, saying, “Wherefore hast thou come here?” Straight-way the Khoja filled a cup and gave it to him, saying, “Drink this, and then I shall tell thee what manner of man I am.” And he besought the boy and spread out sequins before him. So the boy took the cup and drank what was in it. When the Khoja had given him to drink three or four cups the face of the boy grew tulip-hued, and he became heated with the wine and began to sport with the Khoja. So all that night till morning did the Khoja make merry with the boy; and whatsoever his desire was, he attained thereto. When it was morning, the Khoja again went into the chest; and the servant came and laded the porter with the same and took it back to his house. And on the morrow, when the boy and his father were sitting together, the mu’ezzin chanted the call to prayer, whereupon the boy exclaimed, “Out on thee, father; and the boy who is undone dies, and so this fellow goes up there and bawls out; last night they undid me; how is it that I am not dead?” Then the father smote the boy on the mouth and said, “Speak not such words; they are a shame.” And then he knew why the chest had come.
426 Koran, xxiii. 14.
To The Curators of the Bodleian Library, Oxford
Especially Revd. B. Price and Professor Max Muller.
Gentlemen,
I take the liberty of placing your names at the Head of this Volume which owes its rarest and raciest passages to your kindly refusing the temporary transfer of the Wortley Montague MS. from your pleasant library to the care of Dr. Rost, Chief Librarian, India Office. As a sop to “bigotry and virtue,” as a concession to the “Scribes and Pharisees,” I had undertaken, in case the loan were granted, not to translate tales and passages which might expose you, the Curators, to unfriendly comment. But, possibly anticipating what injury would thereby accrue to the Volume and what sorrow to my subscribers, you were good enough not to sanction the transfer — indeed you refused it to me twice — and for this step my clientele will be (or ought to be) truly thankful to you.
I am, Gentlemen,
Yours obediently,
Richard F. Burton.
Bodleian Library, August 5th, 1888.
This volume contains the last of my versions from the Wortley Montague Codex, and this is the place to offer a short account of that much bewritten MS.
In the “Annals of the Bodleian Library,” etc., by the Reverend William Dunn Macray, M.A. (London, Oxford and Cambridge, 1868: 8vo. p. 206), we find the following official notice:—
“A.D. 1803.”
“An Arabic MS. in seven volumes, written in 1764-5, and containing what is rarely met with, a complete collection of the Thousand and one Tales (N.B. an error for “Nights”) of the Arabian Nights Entertainments, was bought from Captain Jonathan Scott for £50. Mr. Scott published, in 1811, an edition of the Tales in six volumes (N.B. He reprinted the wretched English version of Prof. Galland’s admirable French, and his “revisions” and “occasional corrections” are purely imaginative), in which this MS. is described (N.B. after the mos majorum). He obtained it from Dr. (Joseph) White, the Professor of Hebrew and Arabic at Oxford, who had bought it at the sale of the library of Edward Wortley Montague, by whom it had been brought from the East. (N.B. Dr. White at one time intended to translate it literally, and thereby eclipse the Anglo French version.) It is noticed in Ouseley’s Oriental Collections (Cadell and Davies), vol. ii. p. 25.”
The Jonathan Scott above alluded to appears under various titles as Mr. Scott, Captain Scott and Doctor Scott. He was an officer in the Bengal Army about the end of the last century, and was made Persian Secretary by “Warren Hastings, Esq.,” to whom he dedicated his “Tales, Anecdotes and Letters, translated from the Arabic and Persian” (Cadell and Davies, London, 1800), and he englished the “Bahár-i-Dánish” (A.D. 1799) and “Firishtah’s History of the Dakkhan (Deccan) and of the reigns of the later Emperors of Hindostan.” He became Dr. Scott because made an LL.D. at Oxford as meet for a “Professor (of Oriental languages) at the Royal Military and East India Colloges”; and finally he settled at Netley, in Shropshire, where he died.
It is not the fault of English Orientalists if the MS. in question is not thoroughly well known to the world of letters. In 1797 Sir Gore Ouseley’s “Oriental Collections” (vol. ii. pp. 25-33) describes it, evidently with the aid of Scott, who is the authority for stating that the tales generally appear like pearls strung at random on the same thread; adding, “if they are truly Oriental It is a matter of little importance to us Europeans whether they are strung on this night or that night.”1 This first and somewhat imperfect catalogue of the contents was followed in 1811 by a second, which concludes the six volume edition of
“The
ARABIAN NIGHTS
ENTERTAINMENTS,
Carefully revised and occasionally corrected
from the Arabic.
to which is added
A SELECTION OF NEW TALES,
Now first translated
from the Arabic Originals.
also,
AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES,
Illustrative of the
RELIGION, MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE: MAHOMMEDANS.”
The sixth volume, whose second title is “Tales | selected from the Manuscript copy | of the | 1001 Nights | brought to Europe by Edward Wortley Montague, Esq.,” ends with a general Appendix, of which ten pages are devoted to a description of the Codex and a Catalogue of its contents. Scott’s sixth volume, like the rest of his version, is now becoming rare, and it is regretable that when Messieurs Nimmo and Bain reprinted, in 1882, the bulk of the work (4 vols. 8vo) they stopped short at volume five.
Lastly we find a third list dating from 1837 in the “Catalogi | Codicum Manuscriptorum Orientalium | Bibliothecæ Bodleianæ | Pars Secunda | Arabicos | complectens. | Confecit | Alexander Nicoll, J.C.D. | Nuper Linguæ Heb. Professor Regius, necnon Ædis Christi Canonicus. | Editionem absolvit | et Catalogum urianum2 aliquatenus emendavit | G. B. Pusey S.T.B. | Viri desideratissimi Successor. | Oxonii, | E Topographio Academico | MDCCCXXXV.” This is introduced under the head, “Codicil Arabici Mahommedani Narrationes Fictæ sive Historiæs Romanenses | in Quarto (pp. 145-150).
I am not aware that any attempt has been made to trace the history of the Wortley Montague MS.; but its internal evidence supplies a modicum of information.
By way of colophon to the seventh and last volume we have, “On this wise end to us the Stories of the Kings and histories of various folk as foregoing in the Thousand Nights and a Night, perfected and completed, on the eighteenth day of Safar the auspicious, which is of the months of (the year A.H.) one thousand one hundred and seventy eight” (=A.D. 1764-65)
“Copied by the humblest and neediest of the poor, Omar-al-Safatí, to whose sins may Allah be Ruthful!
“An thou find in us fault deign default supply,
And hallow the Faultless and Glorify.”
The term “Suftah” is now and has been applied for the last century to the sons of Turkish fathers by Arab mothers, and many of these Mulattos live by the pen. On the fly leaf of vol. i. is written in a fine and flowing Persian (?) hand, strongly contrasting with the text of the tome, which is unusually careless and bad, “This book | The Thousand Nights and a Night of the Acts and deeds (Sírat) of the Kings | and what befel them from sundry | women that were whorish | and witty | and various | Tales | therein.” Below it also is a Persian couplet written in vulgar Iranian characters of the half-Shikastah type:—
Chih goyam, o chih poyam?
Na mí-dánam hích o púch.
(What shall I say or whither fly?
This stuff and this nonsense know not I.)
Moreover, at the beginning of vol. i. is a list of fifteen tales written in Europeo-Arabic characters, after schoolboy fashion, and probably by Scott. In vol. ii. there is no initial list, but by way of Foreword we read, “This is volume the second of the Thousand Nights and a Night from the xciiid. Night, full and complete.” And the Colophon declares, “And this is what hath been finished for us of the fourth (probably a clerical error for “second”) tome of the Thousand Nights and a Night to the clxxviith. Night, written on the twentieth day of the month Sha’bán A.H., one thousand one hundred and seventy-seven” (=A.D. 1764). This date shows that the MS. was finished during the year after incept.
The text from which our MS. was copied must have been valuable, and we have reason to regret that so many passages both of poetry and prose are almost hopelessly corrupt. Its tone and tenor are distinctly Nilotic; and, as Mr. E. Wortley Montague lived for some time in Egypt, he may have bought it at the Capital of the Nile-land. The story of the Syrian (v. 468) and that of the Two Lack facts (vi. 262), notably exalt Misr and Cairo at the expense of Shám and Damascus; and there are many other instances of preferring Kemi the Black Soil to the so called “Holy Land.” The general tone, as well as the special incidents of the book, argues that the stories may have been ancient, but they certainly have been modernised. Coffee is commonly used (passim) although tobacco is still unknown; a youth learns archery and gunnery (Zarb al-Risás, vol. vii. 440); casting of cannon occurs (vol. v. 186), and in one place (vol. vi. 134) we read of “Taban-jatayn,” a pair of pistols; the word, which is still popular, being a corruption of the Persian “Tabáncheh” = a slap or blow, even as the French call a derringer coup de poing. The characteristic of this Recueil is its want of finish. The stories are told after perfunctory fashion as though the writer had not taken the trouble to work out the details. There are no names or titles to the tales, so that every translator must give his own; and the endings are equally unsatisfactory, they usually content themselves, after “native” fashion, with “Intihá” = finis, and the connection with the thread of the work must be supplied by the story-teller or the translator. Headlines were not in use for the MSS. of that day, and the catchwords are often irregular, a new word taking the place of the initial in the following page.
The handwriting, save and except in the first volume, has the merit of regularity, and appears the same throughout the succeeding six, except in the rare places (e.g. vi. 92-93), where the lazy copyist did not care to change a worn-out pen, and continued to write with a double nib. On the other hand, it is the character of a village-schoolmaster whose literary culture is at its lowest. Hardly a sheet appears without some blunder which only in rare places is erased or corrected, and a few lacunæ are supplied by several hands, Oriental and European, the latter presumably Scott’s. Not unfrequently the terminal word of a line is divided, a sign of great incuria or ignorance, as “Sháhr | baz” (i. 4), “Shahr | zád” (v. 309, vi. 106), and “Fawa | jadtu-h” = so I found him (V. 104). Koranic quotations almost always lack vowel points, and are introduced without the usual ceremony. Poetry also, that crux of a skilful scribe, is carelessly treated, and often enough two sets of verse are thrown into one, the first rhyming in ur, and the second in ír (e.g. vol. v. 256). The rhyme-words also are repeated within unlawful limits (passim and vol. v. 308, 11. 6 and II). Verse is thrust into the body of the page (vii. 112) without signs of citation in red ink or other (iii. 406); and rarely we find it, as it should be, in distichs divided by the normal conventional marks, asterisks and similar separations. Sometimes it appears in a column of hemistichs after the fashion of Europe (iv. III; iv.. 232, etc.): here (v. 226) a quotation is huddled into a single line; there (v. 242) four lines, written as monostichs, are followed by two distichs in as many lines.
As regards the metrical part Dr. Steingass writes to me, “The verses in Al-Hayfá and Yúsuf, where not mere doggerel, are spoiled by the spelling. I was rarely able to make out even the metre and I think you have accomplished a feat by translating them as you have done.”
The language of the MS. is generally that of the Fellah and notably so in sundry of the tales, such as, “The Goodwife of Cairo and her four Gallants” (v. 444). Of this a few verbal and phrasal instances will suffice. Adíní = here am I (v. 198); Ahná (passim, for nahnu) nakháf = we fear; ‘Alaykí (for ‘alayki) = on thee; and generally the long vowel (-ki) for the short (-kí) in the pronoun of the second person feminine; Antah (for ante) = thou (vi. 96) and Antú (for antum) = you (iii. 351); Aráha and even arúha, rúhat and rúha (for ráha) = he went (Vii. 74 and iv. 75) and Arúhú (for rúhú) = go ye (iv. 179); Bakarah * * * allazi (for allatí) = a cow (he) who, etc.; (see in this vol., p. 253) and generally a fine and utter contempt for genders, e.g. Hum (for hunna) masc. for fem. (iii. 91; iii. 146; and v. 233); Tá ‘áli (for ta’ál) fem. for masc. (vi. 96 et passim); Bíhím (for bi-him) = with them (v. 367); Bi-kám (for bi-kum) = with you (iii. 142) are fair specimens of long broad vowels supplanting the short, a peculiarity known in classical Arab., e.g. Miftáh (for Miftah) = a key. Here, however, it is exaggerated, e.g. Bá’íd (for ba’íd) = far (iv. 167); Kám (for kam) = how many? Kúm (for kum) = you (v. 118); Kúl-há (for kul-ha) = tell it (iv 58); Mín (for man) = who? (iii. 89); Mirwád (for Mirwad)= a branding iron; Natanáshshad (for natanashshad) = we seek tidings (v. 211); Rájal (pron. Rágil, for Rajul) = a man (iv. 118 and passim); Sáhal (for sahal) = easy, facile (iv. 7I); Sír (for sir) = go, be off! (v. 199); Shíl (for shil) =carry away (i. 111); and Záhab (for zahab) = gold (v. 186). This broad Doric or Caledonian articulation is not musical to unaccustomed organs. As in popular parlance the Dál supplants the Zál; e.g. Dahaba (for zahaba) = he went (v. 277 and passim); also T takes the place of Th, as Tult for thulth = one third (iii. 348) and Tamrat (for thamrat) = fruit (v. 260), thus generally ignoring the sibilant Th after the fashion of the modern Egyptians who say Tumm (for thumma) = again; “Kattir (for kaththir) Khayrak” = God increase thy weal, and Lattama (for laththama) = he veiled. Also a general ignoring of the dual, e.g. Házá ‘usfurayn (for ‘Usfuráni) = these be birds (vi. 121); Nazalú al-Wazirayn (do) = the two Wazirs went down (vii. 123); and lastly Al-Wuzará al-itnayn (for Al-Wazíráni) = the two Wazirs (vii. 121). Again a fine contempt for numbers, as Nanzur ana (for Anzur) = I (we) see (v. 198) and Inní (for inná) narúhu = indeed I (we) go (iii. 190). Also an equally conscientious disregard for cases, as Min mál abú-há (for abí-há) = out of the moneys of her sire (iv. 190); and this is apparently the rule of the writer.
Of Egyptianisms and vulgarisms we have Ant, má ghibtshayy = thou, hast thou not been absent at all? with the shayy (a thing) subjoined to the verb in this and similar other phrases; Baksísh for Bakhshish (iv. 356); Al-Jawáz (for al-zíwáj) = marriage (i. 14); Fakí or Fakí (for fakih) = a divine (vi. 207 and passim); Finjál (for finján) = a coffee-cup (v. 424, also a Najdí or Central Arabian corruption); Kuwayyis = nice, pretty (iv. 179); Láyálí (for liallá) = lest that (v. 285); Luhúmát (for lukúm) = meats, a mere barbarism (v. 247); Matah (for Matá) =when? (v. 464); Ma’áyah (for ma’í) =with me (vi. 13 et passim); Shuwayy (or shuwayyah) Mayah, a double diminutive (for Muwayy or Muwayh) = a small little water, intensely Nilotic (iv. 44); Mbarih or Embárah (for Al-bárihah) = yesterday (v. 449); Takkat (for Dakkat) = she rapped (iv. 190); Úzbáshá and Uzbáshá (for Yúzbáshí) = a centurion, a captain (v.430 et passim); Záídjah for Záijah (vi. 329); Zarághít (for Zaghárít) = lullilooing (iv. 12); Zínah (for Ziná) = adultery, and lastly Zúda (for Záda) = increased (iv. 87). Here the reader will cry jam satis; while the student will compare the list with that given in my Terminal Essay (vol. x. 149).
The two Appendices require no explanation. No. I. is a Catalogue of the Tales in the Wortley Montague MS., and No. II. contains Notes upon the Storiology of the Supplemental Volumes IV. and V. by the practiced pen of Mr. W. P. Kirby. The sheets during my absence from England have been passed through the press and sundry additions and corrections have been made by Dr. Steingass.
In conclusion I would state that my hope was to see this Volume (No. xv.) terminate my long task; but circumstance is stronger than my will and I must ask leave to bring out one more — The New Arabian Nights.
RICHARD F. BURTON.
ATHENÆUM CLUB, September 1st, 1888.
1 In the same volume (ii. 161) we also find an “Introductory Chapter of the Arabian Tales,” translated from an original manuscript by Jonathan Scott, Esq. neither MS nor translation having any meet. In pp. 34, 35 (ibid.) are noticed the ‘Contents of a Fragment of the Arabian Nights procured in India by James Anderson, Esq., a copy of which” (made by his friend Scott) “is now in the possession of Jonathan Scott, Esq.” (See Scott, vol. vi. p. 451.) For a short but sufficient notice of this fragment cf. the Appendix (vol. x. p. 439) to my Thousand Nights and a Night, the able and conscientious work of Mr. W. F. Kirby. “The Labourer and the Flying Chain” (No. x.) and “The King’s Son who escaped death by the ingenuity of his Father’s seven Viziers” (No. xi.) have been translated or rather abridged by Scott in his “Tales, Anecdotes and Letters” before alluded to, a vol. of pp. 446 containing scraps from the Persian “Tohfat al-Majális” and “Hazliyát’ Abbíd Zahkáni” (Facetiû of ‘Abbíd the Jester), with letters from Aurangzeb and other such padding much affected by the home public in the Early XIXth Century.
2 So called from Herr Uri, a Hungarian scholar who first catalogued “The Contents.”
It is related that whilome there was a King of the many Kings of Sind who had a son by other than his wife. Now the youth, whenever he entered the palace, would revile4 and abuse and curse and use harsh words to his step-mother, his father’s Queen, who was beautiful exceedingly; and presently her charms were changed and her face waxed wan and for the excess of what she heard from him she hated life and fell to longing for death. Withal she could not say a word concerning the Prince to his parent. One day of the days, behold an aged woman (which had been her nurse) came in to her and saw her in excessive sorrow and perplext as to her affair for that she knew not what she could do with her stepson. So the ancient dame said to her, “O my lady, no harm shall befal thee; yet is thy case changed into other case and thy colour hath turned to yellow.” Hereupon the Queen told her all that had befallen her from her step-son of harsh language and revilement and abuse, and the other rejoined, “O my lady, let not thy breast be straitened, and when the youth shall come to thee and revile thee and abuse thee, do thou say him, ‘Pull thy wits somewhat together till such time as thou shalt have brought back the Lady Fatimah, daughter of ’Amir ibn al-Nu’umán.’“ The old woman taught her these words by heart, and anon went forth from her, when the Prince entered by the door and spoke harsh words and abused and reviled her; so his father’s wife said to him, “Lower thy tone and pull thy wits somewhat together, for thou be a small matter until thou shalt bring back the daughter of the Sultan, hight Fatimah, the child of ’Amir ibn al-Nu’uman.” Now when he heard these words he cried, “By Allah, ’tis not possible but that I go and return with the said Lady Fatimah;” after which he repaired to his sire and said, “’Tis my desire to travel; so do thou prepare for me provision of all manner wherewith I may wend my way to a far land, nor will I return until I win to my wish.” Hereupon his father fell to transporting whatso he required of victuals, various and manifold, until all was provided, and he got ready for him whatso befitted of bales and camels and pages and slaves and eunuchs and negro chattels. Presently they loaded up and the youth, having farewelled his father and his friends and his familiars, set forth seeking the country of Fatimah bint Amir, and he travelled for the first day and the second day until he found himself in the middle of the wilds and the Wadys, and the mountains and the stony wastes. This lasted for two months till such time as he reached a region wherein were Ghúls and ferals, and to one and all who met him and opposed him he would give something of provaunt and gentle them and persuade them to guide him upon his way. After a time he met a Shaykh well stricken in years; so he salamed to him and the other, after returning his greeting, asked him saying, “What was it brought thee to this land and region wherein are naught but wild beasts and Ghuls?” whereto he answered, “O Shaykh, I came hither for the sake of the Lady Fatimah, daughter of ’Amir ibn al-Nu’uman.” Hereat exclaimed the greybeard, “Deceive not thyself, for assuredly thou shalt be lost together with what are with thee of men and moneys, and the maiden in question hath been the cause of destruction to many Kings and Sultans. Her father hath three tasks which he proposeth to every suitor, nor owneth any the power to accomplish a single one, and he conditioneth that if any fail to fulfil them and avail not so to do, he shall be slain. But I, O my son, will inform thee of the three which be these: First the King will bring together an ardabb of sesame grain and an ardabb of clover-seed and an ardabb of lentils; and he will mingle them one with other, and he will say:— Whoso seeketh my daughter to wife, let him set apart each sort, and whoso hath no power thereto I will smite his neck. And as all have failed in the attempt their heads were struck off next morning and were hung up over the Palace gateway. Now the second task is this: the King hath a cistern5 full of water, and he conditioneth that the suitor shall drink it up to the last drop, under pain of losing his life; and the third is as follows: he owneth a house without doors and windows, and it hath6 three hundred entrances and a thousand skylights and two thousand closets: so he covenanteth with the suitor that he make for that place whatever befitteth of doors and lattices and cabinets, and the whole in a single night. Now here is sufficient to engross thine intellect, O my son, but take thou no heed and I will do thy task for thee.” Quoth the other, “O my uncle, puissance and omnipotence are to Allah!” and quoth the Shaykh, “Go, O my son, and may the Almighty forward the works of thee.” So the Prince farewelled him and travelled for the space of two days, when suddenly the ferals and the Ghuls opposed his passage and he gave them somewhat of provaunt which they ate, and after they pointed out to him the right path. Then he entered upon a Wady wherein flights of locusts barred the passage, so he scattered for them somewhat of fine flour which they picked up till they had eaten their sufficiency. Presently he found his way into another valley of iron-bound rocks, and in it there were of the Jánn what could not be numbered or described, and they cut and crossed his way athwart that iron tract. So he came forward and salam’d to them and gave them somewhat of bread and meat and water, and they ate and drank till they were filled, after which they guided him on his journey and set him in the right direction. Then he fared forwards till he came to the middle of the mountain, where he was opposed by none, or mankind or Jinn-kind, and he ceased not marching until he drew near the city of the Sultan whose daughter he sought to wife. Here he set up a tent and sat therein seeking repose for a term of three days; then he arose and walked forwards until he entered the city, where he fell to looking about him leftwards and rightwards till he had reached the palace7 of the King. He found there over the gateway some hundred heads which were hanging up, and he cried to himself, “Veil me, O thou Veiler! All these skulls were suspended for the sake of the Lady Fatimah, but the bye-word saith, ‘Whoso dieth not by the sword dieth of his life-term,’ and manifold are the causes whereas death be singlefold.” Thereupon he went forwards to the palace gate — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
3 W. M. MS. iv. 165–189: Scott (vi. 238–245), “Story of the Prince of Sind, and Fatima, daughter of Amir Bin Naomaun”: Gauttier (vi. 342–348) Histoire du Prince de Sind et de Fatime.
Sind is so called from Sindhu, the Indus (in Pers. Sindáb), is the general name of the riverine valley: in early days it was a great station of the so-called Aryan race, as they were migrating eastwards into India Proper, and it contains many Holy Places dating from the era of the Puránás. The Moslems soon made acquaintance with it, and the country was conquered and annexed by Mohammed bin Kásim, sent to attack it by the famous or infamous Hajjáj bin Yúsuf the Thakafite, lieutenant of Al-’Irák under the Ommiade Abd al-Malik bin Marwán. For details, see my “Sind Re-visited”: vol. i. chapt. viii.
4 [In MS. “shakhat,” a modern word which occurs in Spitta Bey’s “Contes Arabes Modernes,” spelt with the palatal instead of the dental, and is translated there by “injurier.”— ST.]
5 In the text “Sahríj”; hence the “Chafariz” (fountain) of Portugal, which I derived (Highlands of the Brazil, i. 46) from “Sakáríj.” It is a “Moghrabin” word=fonte, a fountain, preserved in the Brazil and derided in the mother country, where a New World village is described as
— Chafariz,
Joam Antam e a Matriz:
which may be roughly rendered
— Parish church,
on the Green and Johnny Birch.
6 [Here I suppose the scribe dropped a word, as “yahtáj,” or the like, and the sentence should read: it requires, etc. — ST.]
7 In text “Sárayah,” for “Saráyah,” Serai, Government House: vol. ix. 52.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Prince went forward to the Palace gate and purposed to enter, but they forbade him nor availed he to go in; so he returned to his tents and there spent the night till dawn. Then he again turned to the King’s Serai and attempted to make entry, but they stayed him and he was unable to succeed, nor could he attain to the presence of the Sovran. So he devised with one who was standing at the door a device to enter the presence, but again he failed in his object and whenever he craved admission they rejected him and drave him away saying, “O youth, tell us what may be thy need?” Said he, “I have a requirement of the Sultan and my purport is a business I may transact with him and speech containeth both private and public matters; nor is it possible that I mention my want to any save to the Sovran.” So a Chamberlain of the chamberlains went in to the presence and reported the affair to the King, who permitted them admit the stranger, and when he stood before the throne he kissed ground and deprecated evil for the ruler and prayed for his glory and permanency, and the Monarch, who marvelled at the terseness of his tongue and the sweetness of his speech, said to him, “O youth, what may be thy requirement?” Quoth the Prince, “Allah prolong the reign of our lord the Sultan! I came to thee seeking connexion with thee through thy daughter the lady concealed and the pearl unrevealed.” Quoth the Sultan, “By Allah, verily this youth would doom himself hopelessly to die and, Oh the pity of it for the loquence of his language;” presently adding, “O youth, say me, art thou satisfied with the conditions wherewith I would oblige thee?” and the Prince replied, “O my lord, Omnipotence is to Allah; and, if the Almighty empower me to fulfil thy pact, I shall fulfil it.” The King continued, “I have three tasks to impose upon thee,” and the Prince rejoined, “I am satisfied with all articles thou shalt appoint.” Hereupon the Sovran summoned the writers and witnesses, and they indited the youth’s covenant and gave testimony that he was content therewith; and when the Prince had signified his satisfaction and obligation, the King sent for an ardabb of sesame and an ardabb of clover-seed and an ardabb of lentils and let mingle all three kinds one with other till they became a single heap. Then said the King to the Prince, “Do thou separate each sort by itself during the course of the coming night, and if dawn shall arise and every seed is not set apart, I will cut off thy head.” Replied the other, “Hearing and obeying.” Then the King bade place all the mixed heap in a stead apart, and commanded the suitor retire into solitude; accordingly, he passed alone into that site and looked upon that case and condition, and he sat beside the heap deep in thought, so he set his hand upon his cheek and fell to weeping, and was certified of death. Anon he arose and going forwards attempted of himself to separate the various sorts of grain, but he failed; and had two hundred thousand thousands of men been gathered together for the work they had on nowise availed to it. Hereupon he set his right hand upon his cheek8 and he fell to weeping and suffered the first third of the dark hours to pass, when he said to himself, “There remaineth naught of thy life save the remnant of this night!” But the while he was conjecturing and taking thought, behold, an army of the locusts to whom he had thrown the flour upon his road came speeding over him like a cloud dispread and said to him with the tongue of the case,9 “Fear not neither grieve, for we have flocked hither to solace thee and ward from thee the woe wherein thou art: so take thou no further heed.” Then they proceeded to separate each kind of grain and set it by itself, and hardly an hour had passed before the whole sample was distributed grain by grain into its proper place while he sat gazing thereon. After this the locusts arose and went their ways, and when morning dawned the Sultan came forth and took seat in the Hall of Commandment and said to those who were present, “Arise ye and bring hither the youth that we may cut off his head.” They did his bidding but, when entering in to the Prince, they found all the different grains piled separately, sesame by itself and clover-seed alone and lentils distributed apart, whereat they marvelled and cried, “This thing is indeed a mighty great matter from this youth, nor could it befal any save himself of those who came before him or of those who shall follow after him.” Presently they brought him to the Sultan and said, “O King of the Age, all the grains are sorted;” whereat the Sovran wondered and exclaimed, “Bring the whole before me.” And when they brought it he looked upon it with amazement and rejoiced thereat, but soon recovered himself and cried, “O youth, there remain to thee two tasks for two nights; and if thou fulfil them, thou shalt win to thy wish, and if thou fail therein, I will smite thy neck.” Said the Prince, “O King of the Age, the All-might is to Allah, the One, the Omnipotent!” Now when night drew nigh the King opened to him a cistern and said, “Drink up all that is herein and leave not of it a drop, nor spill aught thereof upon the ground, and if thou drain the whole of it, thou shalt indeed attain to thine aim, but if thou fail to swallow it, I will smite thy neck.” The Prince answered, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Then he took his seat at the cistern-mouth and fell to thinking and saying in his mind, “Wherefore, O certain person, shouldst thou venture thy life and incur the cruel consequence of this King on account of thy frowardness to thy father’s wife? and by Allah, this is naught save Jinn-struck madness on thy part!” So he placed his left hand upon his cheek, and in his right was a stick wherewith he tapped and drew lines in absent fashion upon the ground,10 and he wept and wailed until the third of the first part of the dark hours had passed, when he said in himself, “There remaineth naught of thine age, ho, Such-an-one, save the remainder of this night.” And he ceased not to be drowned in thought when suddenly a host of savage beasts and wild birds came up to him and said with the tongue of the case, “Fear not neither grieve, O youth, for none is faithless to the food save the son of adultery and thou wast the first to work our weal, so we will veil and protect thee, and let there be no sorrowing with thee on account of this matter.” Hereupon they gathered together in a body, birds and beasts, and they were like unto a lowering cloud, no term to them was shown and no end was known as they followed in close file one upon other — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
8 A manner of metonymy, meaning that he rested his cheek upon his right hand.
9 For the sig. of this phrase=words suggested by the circumstances, see vol. i. 121.
10 Mr. Charles M. Doughty (“Arabia Deserta,” i. 223) speaks of the Badawin who sit beating the time away, and for pastime limning with their driving-sticks (the Bákúr) in the idle land.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the wild beasts and the feral birds met one another beside that cistern and each took his turn thereat and drank without drinking his full11 until naught of water remained in the reservoir and they fell to licking the sides with their tongues so that anyone seeing it would say that for the last ten years not a drop of liquid had been stored therein. And after this they all went their ways. Now as soon as it was morning-tide the King arose and hied forth the Harem and taking his seat in the Hall of Commandment said to sundry of his pages and Chamberlains, “Go bring us tidings of the cistern.” Accordingly they went thither and inspected it but found no trace of water therein; so they returned straightway to the ruler and reported the matter. Hereupon the Sultan was amazed and his wits were bewildered and he was certified that none had power to win his daughter for wife save that youth. So he cried, “Bring him hither,” and they fared to fetch him and presented him in the presence where he salam’d to the Sovran and deprecated12 for him and prayed for him. The Sultan greeted him in return and said, “O Youth, there now remaineth with me but a single task which if thou accomplish shall save thee and win for thee my daughter; however if thou fail therein I will smite thy neck.” “Power is to Allah!” exclaimed the Prince whereat the Sultan marvelled and said in his mind, “Glory be to God: the words and works of this youth be wonderful. Whatever I bid him do he beginneth with naming the name of the Lord whereas those who forewent him never suffered me hear aught of the sort. However, the fortunate are Fortune’s favourites and Misfortune never befalleth them.” Now when it was night-tide the Sultan said, “O youth, in very deed this mansion which standeth beside the palace is brand-new and therein are store of wood and timbers of every kind, but it lacketh portals and lattices and the finishing of the cabinets; so I desire that thou make for it doors and windows and closets. I have provided thee with everything thou dost require of carpenter’s gear and turner’s lathes; and either thou shalt work all this during the coming night, or, if thou be wanting in aught and morning shall morrow without all the needful being finished, I will cut 0ff thy head. This is the fine of thy three labours which an thou avail to accomplish thou shalt attain thine aim and if thou fail thereof I will smite thy neck. Such be then my last word.” Accordingly the Prince arose and faring from before him entered the unfinished mansion which he found to be a palace greater and grander than that wherein the King abode. He cried, “O Veiler, withdraw not Thy veiling!” and he sat therein by himself (and he drowned in thought) and said, “By Allah, if at this hour I could find somewhat to swallow I would die thereby and rest from this toil and trouble have been my lot;13 and the morning shall not morrow ere I shall find repose nor shall any one of the town folk solace himself and say, ‘The Sultan is about to cut off the head of this youth.’ Withal the bye-word hath it, ‘Joyance which cometh from Allah is nearer than is the eyebrow to the eye,’ and if Almighty (be He extolled and exalted!) have determined aught to my destiny, there is no flight therefrom. Moreover one of the Sages hath said, ‘He released me from pillar to post and the Almighty bringeth happiness nearhand.’ From this time until dawn of day many a matter may proceed from the Lord wherein haply shall be salvation for me or destruction.” Then he fell to pondering his affair and thinking over his frowardness to the wife of his father, after which he said, “The slave meditateth and the Lord determineth, nor doth the meditation of the slave accord with the determination of the Lord.” And while thus drowned in care he heard the sound of the Darabukkah-drum14 and the turmoil of work and the shiftings of voices whilst the house was full of forms dimly seen and a voice cried out to him, “O youth, be hearty of heart and sprightly of spirits; verily we will requite thee the kindness thou wroughtest to us in providing us with thy provision; and we will come to thine aidance this very night, for they who are visiting and assisting thee are of the Jánn from the Valley of Iron.” Then they began taking up the timbers and working them and some turned the wood with lathes, and other planed the material with planes, whilst others again fell to painting and dyeing the doors and windows, these green and those red and those yellow; and presently they set them in their several steads; nor did that night go by ere the labour was perfected and there was no royal palace like unto it, either in ordinance or in emplacement. Now as morning morrowed the Sultan went forth to his divan, and when he looked abroad he saw a somewhat of magnificence in the mansion which was not to be found in his palace, so he said in his surprise, “By Allah, the works of this youth be wondrous and had the joiners and carpenters loitered over three years upon this work they never would have fulfilled such task: moreover we ken not by what manner of means this young man hath been able to accomplish the labour.” Thereupon he sent for the Prince to the presence and robed him with a sumptuous robe of honour and assigned to him a mighty matter of money, saying, “Verily thou deservest, O youth, and thou art the only one who meriteth that thou become to my daughter baron and she become to thee femme.” Presently Sultan Amir ibn al-Nu’uman bade tie the marriage tie and led to her in procession the bridegroom who found her a treasure wherefrom the talisman had been loosed;15 and the bride rejoiced with even more joyance than he did by cause of her sire, with his three tasks, having made her believe that she would never be wedded and bedded but die a maid, and she had long been in sadness for such reason. Then the married couple abode with the King their father for the space of a month, and all this time the camp of the young Prince remained pitched without the town, and every day he would send to his pages and eunuchs whatso they needed of meat and drink. But when that term ended he craved from the Sultan leave of travel to his own land and his father-in-law answered, “O youth, do whatso thou ever wishest anent returning to thy native realm;” and forthwith fell to fitting out his daughter till all her preparations were completed and she was found ready for wayfare together with her body-women and eunuchs. The Prince having farewelled his father-in-law caused his loads to be loaded and set out seeking his native country and kingdom; and he travelled by day and by night, and he pushed his way through Wadys and over mountains for a while of time until he drew near his own land, and between him and his father’s city remained only some two or three marches. Here suddenly men met him upon the road and as he asked them the tidings they replied that his sire was besieged within his capital of Sind by a neighbour King who had attacked him and determined to dethrone him and make himself Sovereign and Sultan in his stead. Now when he heard this account he pushed forward with forced marches till he reached his father’s city which he found as had been reported; and the old King with all his forces was girded around within his own walls nor could he sally out to offer battle for that the foe was more forceful than himself. Hereupon the Prince pitched his camp and prepared himself for fight and fray; and a many of his men rode with him whilst another many remained on guard at the tents. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
11 In text “Lam yanub al-Wáhidu min-hum nisf haffán.” [I cannot explain this sentence satisfactory to myself, but by inserting “illá” after “min-hum.” Further I would read “nassaf”=libavit, delibavit degustavit (Dozy, Suppl. s. v.) and “Hifán,” pl. of “Hafna”=handful, mouthful, small quantity, translating accordingly: “and none took his turn without sipping a few laps.”— ST.]
12 “Tarajjama”: Suppl. vol. iv. 188. I shall always translate it by “he deprecated” scil. evil to the person addressed.
13 [The text, as I read it, has: “In wahadtu (read wajadtu) fí házih al-Sá’áh shayyan naakul-hu wa namút bi-hi nartáh min házá al-Taab wa’l-mashakkah la-akultu-hu”=if I could find at this hour a something (i.e. in the way of poison) which I might eat and die thereby and rest from this toil and trouble, I would certainly eat it, etc. — ST.]
14 See vol. i. 311 for this “tom-tom” as Anglo-Indians call it.
15 i.e. Whereinto the happy man was able to go, which he could not whilst the spell was upon the hoard.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Prince busked him for fight and fray seeking to assault the army of the King who had besieged his sire, and the two hosts fought together a strenuous fight and a stubborn. On this wise fared it with them; but as regards the bride, she took patience till such time as her bridegroom had ridden forth, when she donned her weapons of war and veiled herself with a face-veil and sallying forth in Mameluke’s habit presently came up with her mate the Prince whom she found straitened by the multitude of his foes. Now this Princess was mistress of all manner weapons, so she drew her sword from its sheath and she laid on load rightwards and leftwards until the wits of all beholders were wildered and her bridegroom inclined to her and said, “Verily this Mameluke he is not one of our party.” But she continued battling till the sun rose high in the firmament-vault when she determined to attack the ensigns and colours which were flying after right royal of fashion, and in the midst thereof was the hostile Sultan. So she smote the ancient who bore the banner and cast him to the ground and then she made for the King and charged down upon him and struck him with the side of the sword a blow so sore that of his affright he fell from his steed. But when his host saw him unhorsed and prostrate upon the plain they sought safety in flight and escape, deeming him to be dead; whereupon she alighted and pinioned his elbows behind his back and tied his forearms to his side, and lashed him on to his charger and bound him in bonds like a captive vile. Then she committed him to her bridegroom who still knew her not and she departed the field seeking her camp until she arrived there and entered her pavilion where she changed her attire and arrayed herself in women’s raiment. After this she sat down expecting the Prince who, when she had committed to him the captured King, carried him into the city where he found the gates thrown open. Hereupon his sire sallied forth and greeted him albeit he recognised him not but was saying, “Needs must I find the Knight who came to our assistance.” “O my papa,” quoth the Prince, “dost thou not know me?” and quoth the other, “O young man, I know thee not;” whereat the other rejoined, “I am thy son Such-an-one.” But hardly had the old King heard these words when behold, he fell upon him and threw his arms round his neck and was like to lose his sense and his senses for stress of joyance. After a time he recovered and looking upon the captive King asked him, “What was it drave thee to come hither and seek to seize from me my realm?” and the other answered him with humility and craved his pardon and promised not again to offend, so he released him and bade him gang his gait. After this the young Prince went forth and caused his Harim and his pages and whoso were with him enter the city and when they were seated in the women’s apartment the husband and wife fell to talking of their journey and what they had borne therein of toil and travail. At last the Princess said to him, “O my lord, what became of the King who besieged thy sire in his capital and who sought to bereave him of his realm?” and said he, “I myself took him captive and committed him to my father who admitted his excuses and suffered him depart.” Quoth she, “And was it thou who capturedst him?” and quoth he, “Yea verily, none made him prisoner save myself.” Hereupon said she, “Thee it besitteth not to become after thy sire Sovran and Sultan!” and said he, “Why and wherefore?” “For that a lie defameth and dishonoureth the speaker,” cried she, “and thou hast proved thee a liar.” “What made it manifest to thee that I lied?” asked the Prince, and the Princess answered, “Thou claimest to have captured the King when it was other than thyself took him prisoner and committed him to thy hands.” He enquired, “And who was he?” and she replied, “I know not, withal I had him in sight.” Hereupon the bridegroom repeated his query till at last she confessed it was she had done that deed of derring-do; and the Prince rejoiced much in her.16 Then the twain made an entry in triumph and the city was adorned and the general joy was increased. Now his taking to wife the Lady Fatimah daughter of the Sultan Amir bin Al-Nu’uman so reconciled him to his stepmother, the spouse of his father the Sovran of Sind, that both forgot their differences and they lived ever afterwards in harmony and happiness.
16 Here ends this tale, a most lame and impotent conclusion, in the W. M. MS. iv. 189. Scott (p. 244–5) copied by Gauttier (vi. 348) has, “His father received him with rapture, and the prince having made an apology to the sultana (!) for his former rude behaviour, she received his excuses, and having no child of her own readily adopted him as her son; so that the royal family lived henceforth in the utmost harmony, till the death of the sultan and sultana, when the prince succeeded to the empire.”
It is stated that of olden times and by-gone there dwelt in the land of Syria two men which were brothers and whereof one was wealthy and the other was needy. Now the rich man had a love-some daughter and a lovely, whilst the poor man had a son who gave his heart to his cousin as soon as his age had reached his tenth year. But at that time his father the pauper died and he was left an orphan without aught of the goods of this world; the damsel his cousin, however, loved him with exceeding love and ever and anon would send him somewhat of dirhams and this continued until both of them attained their fourteenth years. Then the youth was minded to marry the daughter of his uncle, so he sent a party of friends to her home by way of urging his claim that the father might wed her to him, but the man them and they returned disappointed. However, when it was the second day a body of warm men and wealthy came to ask for the maid in marriage, and they conditioned the needful conditions and stood agreed upon the nuptials. Presently the tidings reached the damsel who took patience till the noon o’ night, when she arose and sought the son of her uncle, bringing with her the sum of two thousand dinars which she had taken of her father’s good and she knocked softly on at the door. Hereupon the youth started from sleep and went forth and found his cousin who was leading a she-mule and an ass, so the twain bestrode either beast and travelled through the remnant of the night until the morning morrowed. Then they alighted to drink and to hide themselves in fear of being seen until the second night fell when they mounted and rode for two successive days, at the end of which they entered a town seated on the shore of the sea. Here they found a ship equipped for voyage, so they repaired to the Ra’is and hired for themselves a sitting place; after which the cousin went forth to sell the ass and the she-mule, and disappeared for a short time. Meanwhile the ship had sailed with the daughter of his uncle and had left the youth upon the strand and ceased not sailing day after day for the space of ten days, and lastly made the port she purposed and there cast anchor.18 Thus it befel them; but as regards the youth, when he had sold the beasts he returned to the ship and found her not, and when he asked tidings thereof they told him that she had put to sea; and hearing this he was mazed as to his mind and sore amated as to his affair, nor wot he whither he should wend. So he turned him inland sore dismayed. Now when the vessel anchored in that port quoth the damsel to the captain, “O Ra’is,19 hie thee ashore and bring for us a portion of flesh and fresh bread,” and quoth he, “Hearkening and obedience,” whereupon he betook himself to the town. But as soon as he was far from the vessel she arose and donning male’s dress said to the sailors, “Do ye weigh anchor and set sail,” and she shouted at them with the shouting of seamen. Accordingly they did as she bade them and the wind being fair and the weather favourable, ere an hour had sped they passed beyond sight of land.20 Presently the captain returned bringing bread and meat but he found ne’er a ship, so he asked tidings of her and they answered, “Verily she is gone.” Hereupon he was perplext and he fell to striking hand upon hand and crying out, “O my good and the good of folk!” and he repented whenas repentance availed him naught. Accordingly, he returned to the town unknowing whither he should wend and walked about like one blind and deaf for the loss of his craft. But as regards the vessel, she ceased not sailing with those within till she cast anchor near a city wherein was a King; and no sooner was she made fast than the damsel fell to scattering money amongst the crew and saying to them, “Hearten your hearts and be no afraid on any wise!” In due time the news of a fresh arrival reached the Ruler, and he ordered his men to bring him tidings concerning that vessel, and when they went for her and boarded her they found that her captain was a damsel of virginal semblance exceeding in beauty and loveliness. So they returned and reported this to the King who despatched messengers bidding her lodge with him for they had heightened their praises of her and the excess of her comeliness, and he said in his mind, “By Allah, an she prove as they describe her, needs must I marry her.” But the damsel sent back saying, “I am a clean maid, not may I land alone but do thou send to me forty girls, virgins like myself, when I will disembark together with them."— And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
17 W.M MS. iv. 189. Scott (vi. 246-258) “Story of the Lovers of Syria, or, the Heroine:” Gauttier (iv. 348-354) Histoire des Amans de Syrie.
18 Scott (vi. 246) comments upon the text:—“The master of the ship having weighed anchor, hoisted sail and departed: the lady in vain entreating him to wait the return of her beloved, or send her on shore, for he was captivated with her beauty. Finding herself thus ensnared, as she was a woman of strong mind . . . she assumed a satisfied air; and as the only way to preserve her honour, received the addresses of the treacherous master with pretended complacency, and consented to receive him as a husband at the first port at which the ship might touch.”
19 The captain, the skipper, not the owner: see vols. i. 127; vi. 12; the fem. (which we shall presently find) is “Ra’isah.”
20 Scott (p. 246) has:—“At length the vessel anchored near a city, to which the captain went to make preparations for his marriage; but the lady, while he was on shore, addressed the ship’s crew, setting forth with such force his treacherous conduct to herself, and offering such rewards if they would convey her to her lover at the port they had left, that the honest sailors were moved in her favour, agreed to obey her as their mistress, and hoisting sail, left the master to shift for himself.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the damsel demanded of the king forty clean maids and said, “We will land, I and they together,” whereto he replied, “The right is with her.” Hereupon he ordered all those about him, the Lords of his land and the Commons, that each and every who had in the house a virginal daughter, should bring her to him until the full tale of forty (the daughter of the Wazir being amongst them) was told and he sent them on board the ship where the damsel was about sitting down for supper. But as soon as the maidens came she met them in her finest attire, none of the number being more beauteous than herself, and she salam’d to them and invited them into the cuddy21 where she bade food be served to them and they ate and were cheered and solaced, after which they sat down to converse till it was the middle of the night. Now when sleep prevailed over the girls they retired to their several berths, and when they were drowned in slumber, the damsel arose softly and arousing the crew bade them leave their moorings and shake out their canvas; not did daylight dawn to them ere they had covered a far distance. As soon as the maidens awoke they saw themselves on board a ship amid the billows of the main, and as they asked the Captainess she answered, “Fear not for yourselves or for the voyage you are making;”22 and she gentled them and solaced them until whatso was in their hearts was allayed. However, touching the affair of the King, when morrowed the morn he sent to the ship with an order for the damsel to land with the forty virgins, but they found not the craft and they returned and reported the same to their lord, who cried, “By Allah, this be the discreetest of deed which none other save she could have done.” So he arose without stay or delay and taking with him the Wazir (both being in disguise), he went down to the shore and looked around but he could not find what had become of them. And as regards the vessel carrying the virgins, she ceased not sailing until she made port beside a ruined city wherein none was inhabitant, and here the crew cast anchor and furled their sails when behold, a gang of forty pirate23 men, ever ready to cut the highway and their friends to betray, boarded them, crying in high glee, “Let us slay all in her and carry off whatso we find.” When they appeared before the damsel they would have effected their intent; but she welcomed them and said, “Do ye return ashore: we be forty maids and ye forty men and to each of you shall befal one and I will belong to your Shaykh, for that I am the Captainess.” Now when they heard this they rejoiced with excessive joy and they said, “Walláhi, our night shall be a blessed one by virtue of your coming to us;” whereto she asked, “Have you with you aught of sheep?” They answered, “We have,” and quoth she, “Do ye slay of them somewhat for supper and fetch the meat that we may cook it for you.” So a troop of pirates went off and brought back ten lambs which they slaughtered and flayed and brittled. Then the damsel and those with her tucked up their sleeves ad hung up their chauldrons24 and cooked the meat after the delicatest fashion, and when it was thoroughly done and prepared, they spread the trays and the pirates came forward one and all, and ate and washed their hands and they were in high spirits each and every, saying, “This night I will take to me a girl.” Lastly she brought to them coffee which they drank, but hardly had it settled in their maws when the Forty Thieves fell to the ground, for she had mixed up with it flying Bhang25 and those who had drunk thereof became like unto dead men. Hereupon the damsel arose without loss of time and taking in her hand a sharp-grided sword fell to cutting off their heads and casting them into the sea until she came to the Shaykh of the Pirates and in his case she was satisfied with shaving his beard and tearing out his eye-teeth and bidding the crew to cast him ashore. They did as she commanded, after which she conveyed the property of all the caitiffs and having distributed the booty amongst the sailors, bade them weigh anchor and shake out their canvas. On this wide they left that ruined city until they had made the middle of the main and they fared for a number of days athwart the billowy deep nor could they hit upon their course amongst the courses of the sea until Destiny cast them beside a city. They made fast to the anchorage-ground, and the damsel arose and donning Mameluke’s dress and arraying the Forty Virgins in the same attire all walked together and paced about the shore and they were like garden blooms. When they entered the streets they found all the folk a-sorrowing, so they asked one of them and he answered, “The Sultan who over-reigneth this city is dead and the reign lacketh rule.” Now in that stead and under the hand of the Wazir, was a Bird which they let loose at certain times, and whenever he skimmed round and perched upon the head of any man to him they would give the Sultanate.26 By the decree of the Decreer they cast the fowl high in air at the very hour when the damsel was landing and he hovered above her and settled upon her head (she being in slave’s attire), and the city folk and the lords of the land cried out, “Strange! passing strange!” So they flushed the bird from the place where he had alighted and on the next day they freed hum again at a time when the damsel had left the ship, and once more he came and settled upon her head. They drove him away, crying, “Oh rare! oh rare!” but as often as they started him off her head he returned to it and alighted there again. “Marvellous!” cried the Wazir, “but Allah Almighty hath done this27 and none shall object to what He doeth nor shall any reject what He decreeth.” Accordingly, they gave her the Sultanate together with the signet-ring of governance and the turband of commandment and they seated her upon the throne of the reign. Hereupon she fell to ordering the Forty Virgins who were still habited as Mamelukes and they served the Sultan for a while of time till one day of the days when the Wazir came to the presence and said, “O King of the Age, I have a daughter, a model of beauty and loveliness, and I am desirous of wedding her with the Sovran because one such as thou should not remain in single blessedness."— And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
21 In text “Kamrah,” = the chief cabin, from the Gr. {greek letters} = vault; Pers. Kamar; Lat. “Camara”; Germ. “Kammer.” It is still the popular term in Egypt for the “cuddy,” which is derived from Pers. “Kadah” = a room.
22 Scott makes the doughty damsel (p. 249), “relate to them her own adventures, and assure them that when she should have rejoined her lover, they should, if they choose it be honourably restored to their homes; but in the mean time she hoped they would contentedly share her fortunes.”
23 In text “Fidáwi,” see “Fidá‘i” and “Fidawíyah,” suppl. col. iv. 220.
24 [In the text “Al-Kázánat,” pl. of “Kázán,” which occurs in Spitta Bey’s tales under the form “Kazán” on account of the accent. It is the Turkish “Kazghán,” vulgarly pronounced “Kazan,” and takes in Persian generally the form “Kazkán.” In Night 652 it will be met again in the sense of crucibles. — ST.]
25 In text “Banj al-tayyár,” i.e. volatile: as we should say, that which flies fastest to the brain.
26 This marvellous bird, the “Ter-il-bas” (Tayr Táús?), is a particular kind of peacock which is introduced with a monstrous amount of nonsense about “Dagon and his son Bil-il-Sanan” and made to determine elections by alighting upon the head of one of the candidates in Chavis and Cazotte, “History of Yamalladdin (Jamál al-Din), Prince of Great Katay” (Khátá = Cathay = China). See Heron, iv. 159.
27 Lit. “hath given it to him.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the Wazir to the Sultan, “I have a daughter, a model of beauty and loveliness and I am desirous of wedding her with the Sultan, because one such as thou should not remain in single blessedness.” “Do whatso thou wishest,” quoth the King, “and Allah prosper thy doing.” Hereupon the Wazir fell to preparing the marriage-portion28 of his daughter, and of forwarding her affair with the Sultan, until her wedding appointments29 and other matters were completed. After this he caused the marriage-tie be tied, and he brought her to the supposed Sultan where she lay for the first night, but the damsel having performed the Wuzú-ablution did naught but pray through the hours of darkness. When dawned the day, the Wazir’s wife which was the mother of the maiden cam to look upon her daughter and asked her of her case, and the bride answered, “All the livelong night hath he passed in orisons, nor came he near me even once.” Quoth the mother, “O my daughter, this be the first night, and assuredly he was ashamed, for he is young in years, and he knoweth not what to do; haply also his heart hangeth not upon thee; and he is but a raw lad.30 However, on the coming night ye shall both enjoy your desire.” But as soon as it was the evening of the next day the Sultan went in to his Harim and made the minor ablution, and abode in prayer through the night until the morrow morrowed, when again the mother came to see how matters stood, and she asked her daughter, who answered, “All the dark hours he hath passed in devotion, and he never approached me.” Now on the third night it happened after like fashion, so the mother said, “O my daughter, whenever thou shalt see thy husband sitting by thy side, do thou throw thyself upon his bosom.” The bride did as she was bidden, and casting herself upon his breast cried, “O King of the Age, haply I please thee not at all;” whereat said the other, “O light of mine eyes, thou art a joy to me for ever; but I am about to confide to thee somewhat and say me canst thou keep a secret?” Quoth she, “Who is there like me for hiding things in my heart?” and quoth the other, “I am a clean maid, and my like is thy like, but the reason for my being in man’s habit is that the son of my uncle, who is my betrothed, hath been lost from me and I have been lost from him, but when Allah shall decree the reunion of our lots he shall marry thee first and he shall not pay the bridegroom’s visit save unto thee, and after that to myself.” The Wazir’s daughter accepted the excuse, and then arising went forth and brought a pigeon whose weazand she split and whose blood she daubed upon the snow-white sheet.31 And when it was morning and her mother again visited her, the bride showed her this proof of her pucelage, and she rejoiced thereat and her father rejoiced also. After this the Sultan ruled for a while of time, but she was ever deep in though concerning what device could be devised in order to obtain tidings of her father and her cousin and what had wrought with them the changes of times and tides. So she bade edify a magnificent Hammám and by its side a coffee-house,32 both nearhand to the palace, and forthwith she summoned architects and masons and plasterers and painters, and when all came between her hands she said to them, “Do ye take a long look at my semblance and mark well my features for I desire that you make me a carven image33 which shall resemble me in all points, and that you fashion it according to my form and figure, and you adorn it aright and render it to represent my very self in all proportions, and then bring it to me.” They obeyed her order and brought her a statue which was herself to a nail, so she looked upon it and was pleased therewith. Then she ordered them set the image over the Hammam-door, so they placed it there, and after she issued a firman and caused it to be cried through the city that whoso should enter that Bath to bathe and drink coffee, should do so free and gratis and for naught. When this was done, the tongues of the folks were loosened with benison, and they fell to praying for the Sultan and the endurance of his glory, and the permanence of his governance till such time as the bruit was spread abroad by the caravans and travellers, and the folk of all regions has heard of the Hammam and the coffee-house. Meanwhile the Sultan had summoned two eunuchs and ordered them and repeatedly enjoined them that whoso might approach the statue and consider it straitly him they should seize and bring before the presence. Accordingly, the slaves fared forth and took their seats before the Baths. After a while of time the father of the damsel who had become Sultan wandered forth to seek her,34 and arrived at that city, where he heard that whoso entered the Hammam to bathe and afterwards drank coffee did this without cost; so he said in his min, “Let me go thither to enter, when behold, he looked at the statue over the gateway, and he stood still and considered it with the tears flowing adown his cheeks, and he cried, “Indeed this figure be like her!” But when the eunuchs saw him they seized him and carried him away until they had led him to the Sultan his daughter, who, seeing him, recognized him forthright, and bade set apart for him an apartment and appointed to him rations for the time being. The next that appeared was the son of her uncle, who also had wandered as far as that city seeking his cousin, and he also having heard the folk speaking anent a free entrance to the Baths, said in himself, “Do thou get thee like others to that Hammam and solace thyself.” But when he arrived there he also cast a look at that image and stood before it and wept for an hour or so as he devoured it with his eyes when the eunuchry beholding him seized and carried him off to the Sultan, who knew him at first sight. So she bade prepare a place for him and appointed to him rations for the time being. Then also came the Ra’is of the ship, who had reached that city seeking his lost vessel, and when the fame of the free Hammam came to his ears, he said in his mind, “Go thou to the Baths and solace thyself.” And when he arrived there and looked upon the statue and fixed his glance upon it he cried out, “Walláhi! ’tis her very self.” Hereupon the eunuchry seized him and carried him to the Sultan who seeing him recognised him and placed him in a place apart for a while of time. Anon the King and the Wazir, who were responsible for the Forty Virgins came to that city — And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
28 Arab. “Jiház,” the Egypt. “Gaház,” which is the Scotch “tocher,” and must not be confounded with the “Mahr” = dowry, settled by the husband upon the wife. Usually it consists of sundry articles of dress and ornament, furniture (matting and bedding carpets, divans, cushions and kitchen utensils), to which the Badawi add “Gribahs” (water-skins) querns, and pestles with mortars. These are usually carried by camels from the bride’s house to the bridegroom’s: they are the wife’s property, and if divorced she takes them away with her and the husband has no control over the married woman’s capital, interest or gains. For other details see Lane M.E. chapt. vi. and Herklots chapt. xiv. sec. 7.
29 [Arab. “Shuwár” = trousseau, whence the verb “shawwara binta-hu” = he gave a marriage outfit to his daughter. See Dozy Suppl. s. v. and Arnold Chrestom. 157, 1. — ST.]
30 Arab. “Ghashím,” see vol. ii. 330. It is a favourite word in Egypt extending to Badawiland, and especially in Cairo, where it is looked upon as slighting if not insulting.
31 The whole of the scene is a replica of the marriage between Kamar al-Zamán and that notable blackguard the Lady Budúr (vol. iii. 211), where also we find the pigeon slaughtered (p. 289). I have mentioned that the blood of this bird is supposed throughout the East, where the use of the microscope is unknown, and the corpuscles are never studied, most to resemble the results of a bursten hymen, and that it is the most used to deceive the expert eyes of midwives and old matrons. See note to vol. iii. p. 289.
32 Scott (p. 254) makes his heroine “erect a most magnificent caravanserai, furnished with baths hot and cold, and every convenience for the weary traveller.” Compare this device with the public and royal banquet (p. 212) contrived by the slave-girl sultaness, the charming Zumurrud or Smaragdine in the tale of Ali Shár, vol. iv. 187.
33 In text “Shakhs,” see vol. iii. 26; viii. 159.
34 This assemblage of the dramatis personû at the end of the scene, highly artistic and equally improbably, reminds us of the ending of King Omar bin al-Nu’uman (vol. iii. 112)
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King accompanied by the Wazir came to that city seeking the lost Forty Virgins and when the twain had settled there and were stablisht at ease their souls longed for the Baths and they said each to other, “Hie we to the Hammam that we may wash away the dirt which be the result of travel.” So they repaired to the place and as they entered the gateway they looked up and fixed their eyes upon the statue; and, as they continued to gaze thereupon, the eunuchs who sighted them seized them and carried them off to the Sultan.35 When they stood between their hands and they beheld the Forty Mamelukes who were also before her, the Wazir’s glance happened to fall upon his daughter who was on similar wise in slave’s habit, and he looked at her with the tears flowing adown his cheeks and he said in his mind, “Walláhi! Verily this Mameluke is like my child as like can be.” Hereupon the Sultan considered the twain36 and asked them of their case37 and they answered, “We be Such-and-such and we are wandering about to seek our daughter and her nine-and-thirty maidens.” Hereupon she assigned them also lodgings and rations for the present. Lastly appeared the Pirate which had been Shaykh and the comrade of the Forty Thieves also seeking that city, and albeit he was aweary and perplext yet he ceased not to wander that he might come upon the damsel who had slain his associates and who had shaved his beard and had torn out his eye-teeth. He also when he heard of the Hammam without charge and the free coffee-house said in himself, “Hie thee to that place!” and as he was entering the gateway he beheld the image and stood still and fell to speaking fulsome speech and crying aloud and saying, “By Allah, this statue is likest to her in stature and size and, by the Almighty, if I can only lay my hand upon her and seize her I will slaughter her even as one cutteth a mutton’s throat. Ah! Ah! an I could but catch hold of her.” As he spake these words the eunuchry heard him; so they seized him and dragged him along and carried him before the Sultan who no sooner saw him than she ordered him to jail. And they imprisoned him for he had not come to that city save for the shortening of his days and the lavishing of his life-blood and he knew not what was predestined to him and in very sooth he deserved all that befel him. Hereupon the damsel bade bring before her, her father and her cousin and the Ra’is and the King and the Wazir and the Pirate (while she still bore herself as one who administered the Sultanate), and when it became night time all began to converse one with other and presently quoth she to them, “O folk, let each and every who hath a tale solace us with telling it.” Hereat quoth one and all of them, “We wist not a recital nor can we recount one;” and she rejoined, “I will relate unto you an adventure.” They cried, “O King of the Age, pardon us! for how shalt thou rehearse us an history and we sit listening thereto?”38 and she replied, “Forasmuch as you have no say to say, I will speak in your stead that we may shorten this our night.” Then she continued, “There was a merchant man and a wealthy with a brother which was needy, and the richard had a daughter while the pauper had a son. But when the poor man died he left only a boy who sought to marry the girl his cousin: his paternal uncle, however, refused him maugre that she loved him and she was beloved of him. Presently there came a party of substantial merchants who demanded her in wedlock and obtained her and agreed upon the conditions; when her sire was minded to marry her to their man. This was hard upon the damsel and sore grievous to her so she said, ‘By Allah, I will mate with none save my uncle’s son.’ Then she came to him at midnight leading a she-mule and an ass and bringing somewhat of her father’s moneys and she knocked at the youth’s door and he came out to her and both went forth, he and she, in the outer darkness of that murky night and the Veiler veiled her way.” Now when the father and the cousin heard this adventure they threw themselves on her neck,39 and rejoiced in her until the turn came for her recounting the tale of the merchant-captain and he also approved her and was solaced by her words. Then, as she related the history concerning the King and the Wazir, they said, “By Allah, this indeed is a sweet story and full of light and leading and our lord the Sultan deserveth for this recital whatso he may require.” But when she came to the Pirate he cried, “Walláhi, O our lord the Sultan, this adventure is a grievous, and Allah upon thee, tell us some other tale;” whereat all the hearers rejoined, “By Allah, in very sooth the recital is a pleasing.” She continued to acquaint them with the adventure of the Bird which invested her with the monarchy and she ended with relating the matter of the Hammam, at all whereof the audience wondered and said, “By Allah, this is a delectable matter and a dainty;” but the Pirate cried aloud, “Such story pleaseth me not in any way for ’tis heavy upon my heart!"— And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
35 The King and the Minister could not have recognised the portrait as neither had seen the original.
36 In text “Ishtalaka” = he surmised, discovered (a secret).
37 In the Arab. “she knew them,” but the careless storyteller forgets the first part of his own story.
38 Story-telling being servile work.
39 [In the MS. “istanatú lá-ha.” The translation in the text presupposes the reading “istanattú” as the 10th form of “matt) = he jumped, he leapt. I am inclined to take it for the 8th form of “sanat,” which according to Dozy stands in its 2nd form “sannat” for “sannat,” a transposition of the classical “nassat” = he listened to. The same word with the same meaning of “listening attentively,” recurs in the next line in the singular, applying to the captain and the following pronoun “la-há” refers in both passages to “Hikáyah,” tale, not to the lady-sultan who reveals herself only later, when she has concluded her narrative. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Pirate cried out, “This tale is heavy upon my heart!” Presently the damsel resumed her speech and said, “Walláhi! if my mother and my father say sooth this be my sire and that be my cousin and here standeth the King and there the Wazir and yonder are the Ra’is and the Pirate, the comrade of the Forty Thieves whose only will and wish was to dishonour us maidens all.” Then she resumed, addressing the King and his Minister, “These forty Mamelukes whom you see standing between your hands are the virgin girls belonging to you.” After which she presented the twain with sumptuous gifts and they took their maidens and with them went their ways. Next she restored to the Ra’is his ship and freighted it with her good and he set forth in it on his return voyage. But as regards the Pirate she commanded her attendants to kindle for him a furious fire and they lit it till it roared and the sparks flew high in air, after which they pinioned him and cast him into the flames, where his flesh was melted before his bones.40 But as concerned her cousin she caused the marriage tie to be tied between him and the Wazir’s daughter and he paid her his first visit on that same night and then she ordered her father to knit the wedding knot with the youth on the next night and when this was done forthwith he went in unto her. After this she committed to him the Sultanate and he became a Sovran and Sultan in her stead, and she bade fetch her mother to that city where her cousin governed and where her father-in-law the Wazir was chief Councillor of the realm. On this wise it endured for the length of their lives, and fair to them were the term and the tide and the age of the time, and they led of lives the joyfullest and a livelihood of the perfectest until they were consumed by the world and died out generation of the generation.41
40 Here the converse is probably meant, as we have before seen.
41 Scott ends (p. 258) “Years of unusual happiness passed over the heads of the fortunate adventurers of this history, until death, the destroyer of all things, conducted them to a grave which must one day be the resting-place for ages of us all, till the receiving (?) angel shall sound his trumpet.”
It is related (but Allah is All-knowing) that there was in times of yore a man named ‘Abdullah al-Karkhí and he was wont to tell the following tale:— One day I was present in the assembly of Al-Hajjáj the son of Yúsuf the Thakafí43 what time he was Governor of Kúfah, and the folk around him were seated and for awe of him prostrated and these were the Emirs and Wazirs and the Nabobs and the Chamberlains and the Lords of the Land and the Headmen in command and amongst whom he showed like a rending lion. And behold, there came to him a man young in years and ragged of raiment and of case debased and there was none of blossom upon his cheeks and the World had changed his cuticle and Need had altered his complexion. Presently he salam’d and deprecated and was eloquent in his salutation to the Governor who returned his greeting and looking at him asked, “Who are thou, O young man, and what hast thou to say and what is thine excuse for pushing into the assembly of the Kings even as if, O youth, thou hadst been an invited guest?44 So say me, who art thou and whose son art thou?” “I am the son of my mother and my father,” answered he, and Al-Hajjaj continued, “In what fashion hast thou come hither?"—“In my clothes.” “Whence hast thou come?"—“From behind me.” Whither art thou intending?"—“Before me.” “On what hast thou come?"—“On the ground.” “Whence art thou O young man?"—“I am from the city Misr.” “Art thou from Cairo?”45—“Why asketh thou me, oh Hajjaj?” Whereupon the Lieutenant of Kufah replied, “Verily her ground is gold and her Nile is rare to behold and her women are a toy for the conqueror to enjoy, and her men are nor burghers nor Badawis.” Quoth the youth, “I am not of them,” and quoth Al-Hajjaj, “Then whence art thou, O young man?"—“I am from the city of Syria.” “Then art thou from the stubbornest of places and the feeblest of races.”46 “Wherefore, O Hajjaj?"— For that it is a mixed breed I ween, nor Jew nor Nazarene.” “I am not of them.” “Then whence art thou, O young man?"—“I am of Khorásán of ‘Ajamí-land.” “Thou art therefore from a place the fulsomest and of faith the infirmest. Wherefore, O Hajjaj?” “Because flocks and herds are their chums and they are Ajams of the Ajams from whom liberal deed never comes, and their morals and manners none to praise presumes and their speech is gross and weighty, and stingy are their rich and wealthy.” “I am not of them.” “Then whence art thou, O young man?” “I am from Mosul.” “Then art thou from the foulest and filthiest of a Catamite race, whose youth is a scapegrace and whose old age hath the wits of an ass.” “I am not of them.” “Then whence art thou, O young man?” “I am from the land of Al-Yaman.” “Then art thou from a clime other than delectable.” “And why so, O Hajjaj?” “For that their noblest make womanly use of Murd47 or beardless boys and the meanest of them tan hides and the lowest amongst them train baboons to dance, and others are weavers of Burd or woollen plaids.”48 “I am not of them.” “Then whence art thou, O young man?” “I am from Meccah.” “Then art thou from a mine of captious carping and ignorance and lack of wits and of sleep over-abundant, whereto Allah commissioned a noble Prophet, and him they belied and they rejected: so he went forth unto a folk which loved him and honoured him and made him a conqueror despite the nose of the Meccan churls.” “I am not of them.” “Then whence art thou, O young man? for verily thou hast been abundant of prate and my heart longeth to cut off thy pate.”49 Hereupon quoth the youth, “An I knew thou couldst slay me I had not worshipped any god save thyself,” and quoth Al-Hajjaj, “Woe to thee and who shall stay me from slaying thee?” “To thyself be the woe with measure enow,” cried the youth; “He shall hinder thee from killing me who administereth between a man and his heart,50 and who falseth not his promise.” “’Tis He,” rejoined Al-Hajjaj, “who directeth me to thy death;” but the Youth retorted, “Allah forfend that He appoint thee to my slaughter; nay rather art thou commissioned by thy Devil, and I take refuge with the Lord form Satan the stoned.” “Whence then art thou, O young man?” “I am from Yathrib.”51 “And what be Yathrib?” “It is Tayyibah.” “And what be Tayyibah?” “Al-Madinah, the Luminate, the mine of inspiration and explanation and prohibition and licitation,52 and I am the seed of the Banú Ghálib53 and the purest scion of the Imam ‘Ali bin Abí Talíb (Allah honour his countenance and accept of him!), and all degree and descent54 must fail save my descent and degree which shall never be cut off until the Day of Doom.” Hereupon Al-Hajjaj raged with exceeding rage and ordered the Youth to execution; whereat rose up against him the Lords of the realm and the headman of the reign and sued him by was of intercession and stretched out to him their necks, saying, “Here are our heads before his head and our lives before his life. By Allah, ho thou the Emir, there is naught but that thou accept our impenetration in the matter of this Youth, for he is on no wise deserving of death.” Quoth the Governor, “Weary not yourselves for needs must I slay him; and even were an Angel from Heaven cry out ‘Kill him not,’ I would never hearken to his cry.” Quoth the youth, “Thou shalt be baffled55 O Hajjaj! Who art thou that an Angel from Heaven should cry out to thee ‘Kill him not,’ for thou art the vilest and meanest of mankind nor hast thou power to find a path to my death.” Cried Al-Hajjaj, “By Allah, I will not slay thee except upon a plea I will plead against thee, and convict thee by thy very words.” “What is that, O Hajjaj?” asked the Youth, and answered Hajjaj, “I will now question thee, and out of thine own mouth will I convict thee and strike off thy head.56 Now say me, O young man: - Whereby doth the slave draw near to Allah Almighty?” “By five things, prayer (1), and fasting (2), and alms (3), and pilgrimage (4), and Holy War upon the path of Almighty Allah (5).” “But I draw near to the Lord with the blood of the men who declare that Hasan and Husayn were the sons and successors of the Apostle of Allah.57 Furthermore, O young man, how can they be born of the Apostle of Almighty Allah when he sayeth, ‘Never was Mohammed the father of any man amongst you, but he was the Apostle of Allah and the Seal of the Prophets.’”58 “Hear thou, O Hajjaj, my answer with another Koranic verse,59 ‘What the Apostle hath given you, take: and what he hath refused you, refuse.’ Now Allah Almighty hath forbidden the taking of life, whose destruction is therefore unlawful.” “Thou has spoken sooth, O young man, but inform me of what is incumbent on thee every day and every night?” “The five canonical prayers.” “And for every year?” “The fast of the month of Ramazan.” “And for the whole of thy life?” “One pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah.” “Sooth thou hast said, O young man; now do inform me”— And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
42 Scott (vi. 259-267), “Story of Hyjuaje, the tyrannical Governor of Coufeh, and the Young Syed.” For the difference between the “Sayyid” (descendant of Hasan) and the “Sharíf,” derived from Husayn, see vol. v. 259. Being of the Holy House the youth can truly deny tat he belongs to any place or race, as will be seen in the sequel.
43 This masterful administrator of the Caliphate under the early Ommiades is noticed in vols. iv. 3, vii. 97. The succession to the Prophet began — as mostly happens in the proceedings of elective governments, republics, and so forth — with the choice of a nobody, “Abubakr the Veridical,” a Meccan merchant, whose chief claim was the glamour of the Apostolate. A more notable personage, and seen under the same artificial light, was “Omar the Justiciary,” also a trader of Meccah, who was murdered for an act of injustice. In Osman nepotism and corruption so prevailed, while distance began to dim the Apostolic glories, that the blood-thirsty turbulence of the Arab was aroused and caused the death of the third Caliph by what we should call in modern phrase “lynching.” Ali succeeded, if indeed we can say he succeeded at all, to an already divided empire. He was only one of the four who could be described as a man of genius, and therefore he had a host of enemies: he was a poet, a sage, a moralist and even a grammarian; brave as a lion, strong as a bull, a successful and experienced captain, yet a complete failure as a King. A mere child in mundane matters, he ever acted in a worldly sense as he should have avoided acting, and hence, after a short and disastrous reign, he also was killed. His two sons, Hasan and Husayn, inherited all the defects and few of the merits of their sire: Hasan was a pauvre diable, whose chief characteristic was addiction to marriage, and by poetical justice one of his wives murdered him. Husayn was of stronger mould, but he fought against the impossible; for his rival was Mu’áwiyah, the Cavour of the Age, the longest-headed man in Arabia, and against Yazíd, who, like Italy of the present day, flourished and prospered by the artificial game which the far-seeing politician, his father, had bequeathed to his house — the Ommiade. The fourth of this dynasty, ‘Abd al-Malik bin Marwán, “the Father of Flies,” and his successor, Al-Walid, were happy in being served thoroughly and unscrupulously by Al-Hajjáj, the ablest of Lieutenants. whose specialty it was to take in hand a revolted province, such as Al-Hijáz, Al-Irák, or Khorásán, and to slaughter it into submission; besides deaths in battle he is computed to have slain 120,000 men. He was an unflinching preacher of the Divine Right of Kings and would observe that the Lord says, “Obey Allah and ye can” (conditional), but as regards royal government “Hearing and obeying” (absolute); ergo, all opposition was to be cut down and uprooted. However, despite his most brilliant qualities, his learning, his high and knightly sense of honour, his insight and his foresight (e.g. in building Wásit), he won an immortality of infamy: he was hated by his contemporaries, he is the subject of silly tale and offensive legend (e.g., that he was born without anus, which required opening with instruments, and he was suckled by Satan’s orders on blood), and he is still execrated as the tyrant, per excellentiam, and the oppressor of the Holy Family — the children and grand-children of the Apostle.
The traditional hatred of Al-Hajjaj was envenomed by the accession of the Abbasides and this dynasty, the better to distinguish itself from the Ommiades, affected love for the Holy Family, especially Ali and his descendants, and a fanatical hatred against their oppressors. The following table from Ibn Khaldún (Introduct. xxii.) shows that the Caliphs were cousins, which may account for their venomous family feud.
44 [The word here translated “invited guest” reads in the MS. “Mad’úr.” In this form it is no dictionary word, but under the root “D’r” I find in the Muhít: “wa ‘l-’ámatu takúlu fulánun da’irun ya’ní ghalízun jáfin” = the common people say such a one is “daiir,” i.e., rude, churlish. “Mad’úr” may be a synonym and rendered accordingly: as though thou wert a boor or clown. — ST]
45 A neat specimen of the figure anachronism. Al-Hajjaj died in A.H. 95 (= AD 714), and Cairo was built in A.H. 358 (= AD 968).
46 Perfectly true in the present day. The city was famed for intelligence and sanguinary fanaticism; and no stranger in disguise could pass through it without detection. This ended with the massacre of 1840, which brought a new era into the Moslem East. The men are, as a rule, fine-looking, but they seem to be all show: we had a corps of them in the old Básh-Buzuks, who, after a month or two in camp, seemed to have passed suddenly from youth into old age.
47 In text, “Yasta’amilúna al-Mrd,” which may have a number of meanings, e.g. “work frowardness” (Maradd), or “work the fruit of the tree Arák” (Maradd = wild capparis) and so forth. I have chosen the word mainly because “Murd” rhymes to “Burd.” The people of Al-Yaman are still deep in the Sotadic Zone and practice; this they owe partly to a long colonization of the “‘Ajam,” or Persians. See my Terminal Essay, § “Pederasty,” p. 178.
48 “Burd,” plur. of “Burdah” = mantle or woolen plaid of striped stuff: vol. vii. 95. They are still woven in Arabia, but they are mostly white.
49 So in Tabari (vol. III. 127) Al Hajjáj sees a man of haughty mien (Abd al-Rahmán bin Abdullah), and exclaims, ”Regarde comme il est orgueilleux: par Dieu, j’aurais envie de lui couper la tête!“
50 [The phrase is Koranic (viii. 24): “Wa ‘lamú anna ‘lláha yahúlu bayna ‘l-mari wa kalbi-hi,” which Rodwell translates: Know that God cometh in between man and his own heart. — ST]
51 “Yathrib,” the classical name ‘{Greek letters}, one of the multifarious titles of what is called in full “Madinat al-Nabi,” City of the Prophet, and vulgarly, Al-Madinah, the City. “Tayyibah,” the good, sweet, or lawful: “Al-Munawwarah” = the enlightened, i.e. by the light of The Faith and the column of (odylic) flame supposed to be based upon the Prophet’s tomb. For more, see my Pilgrimage, ii. 162. I may note how ridiculously the story-teller displays ignorance in Al-Hajjaj, who knew the Moslem’s Holy Land by heart.
52 In text “Taawíl,” = the commentary or explanation of Moslem Holy Writ: “Tanzíl” = coming down, revelation of the Koran: “Tahrím” = rendering any action “harám” or unlawful, and “Tahíl” = the converse, making word or deed canonically legal. Those are well known theological terms.
53 The Banú Ghálib, whose eponymous forefather was Ghálib, son of Fihr, the well known ancestor of Mohammed.
54 In text “Hasab wa Nasab.” It is told of Al-Mu’izz bi Díni’llah, first Fatimate Caliph raised to the throne of Egypt, that he came forward to the elective assembly and drew his sword half way out of the scabbard and exclaimed “Házá Nasabí” (this is my genealogy); and then cast handfuls of gold amongst the crowd, crying, “Házá Hasabí” (such is my title to reign). This is as good as the traditional saying of Napoleon the Great at his first assuming the iron crown —“God gave her to me; woe for whoso toucheth her” (the crown).
55 [In MS. “takhs-u,” a curious word of venerable yet green old age, used in the active form with both transitive and intransitive meaning: to drive away (a dog, etc.), and to be driven away. In the Koran (xxiii. 110) we find the imper. “ikhsaú” = be ye driven away, an in two other places (ii. 61, vii. 166), the nomen agentis “khási” = “scouted” occurs, as applied to the apes into which the Sabbath-breaking Jews were transformed. In the popular language of the present day it has become equivalent with “khába,” to be disappointed, and may here be translated: thou wilt fail ignominiously. — ST]
56 Scott introduces (p. 262), “the tyrant, struck with his magnanimity, became calm, and commanding the executioner to release the youth, said, For the present I forbear, and will not kill thee unless thy answers to my further questions shall deserve it. They then entered on the following dialogue: Hyjuawje hoping to entrap him in discourse.”
57 See the dialogue on this subject between Al-Hajjaj and Yáhyá ibn Yamar in Ibn Khallikan, iv. 60.
58 Surah xxxiii. (The Confederates), v. 40, which ends, “And Allah knoweth all things.”
59 Surah lix. (The Emigration), v. 40: the full quotation would be, “The spoil, taken from the townsfolk and assigned by Allah to His Apostle, belongeth to Allah and to the Apostle and to his kindred and to the orphan and to the poor and to the wayfarer, that naught thereof may circulate among such only of you as be rich. What the Apostle hath given you, take. What he hath refused you, refuse. And fear ye Allah, for Allah is sure in punishing.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Al-Hajjaj said, “Now do thou inform me who is the most excellent of the Arabs and the noblest and of blood the purest?"—“The Khoraysh.” “And wherefore so?” “For that the Prophets from them proceeded.” “And what tribe is the knightliest of the Arabs and the bravest and the firmest in fight?"—“The Banu Háshim.”60 “And wherefore so?” “For that my grandsire the Imám Alí ibn Abí Tálib is of them.” “And who is the most generous of the Arabs and most steadfast in the guest-rite?"—“The Banu Tayy.” “And wherefore so?” “For that the Hátim of Tayy61 was one thereof.” “And who is the vilest of the Arabs and the meanest and the most miserly, in whom weal is smallest and ill is greatest?” “The Banu Thakíf.”62 “And wherefore so?” “Because thou, O Hajjaj, art of them.” Thereupon the Lieutenant of Kufah raged with exceeding rage and ordered the slaughter of the youth; but the Grandees of the State rose up and prayed him for mercy, when he accepted their intercession and pardoned the offender. After which he said to him, “O young man, concerning the kid63 that is in the firmament, tell me be it male or female?” for he was minded on this wise to cut short his words. The young Sayyid replied, “O Hajjaj, draw me aside its tail so I may inform thee thereanent.”64 “O young man, say me on what pasture best grow the horns of the camel?” “From leaves of stone.” “O lack-wit! do stones bear leaves?” “O swollen of lips and little of wits and wisdom, say me do camels have horns?” “Haply thou art a lover fond, O youth?” “Yes! in love drowned.” “And whom lovest thou?"—“I love my lord, of whom I hope that he will turn my annoy into joy, and who can save me this day from thee, O Hajjaj.” “And dost thou know the Lord?” “Yes, I do.” “And whereby hast thou known Him?” “By the book of Him which descended upon His Prophet-Apostle.” “And knowest thou the Koran by heart?” “Doth the Koran fly from me that I should learn it by rote?” “Hast thou confirmed knowledge thereof?” “Verily Allah sent down a book confirmed.”65 “Hast thou perused and mastered that which is therein?” “I have.” “Then, O young man, if thou have read and learned what it containeth, tell me which verset is the sublimest (1) and which verset is the most imperious (2) and which verset is hopefullest (3) and which verset is fearfullest (4) and which verset is believed by the Jew and the Nazarene (5) and in which verset Allah speaketh purely by himself (6) and which verset alludeth to the Prophets (8) and in which verset be mentioned the People of Paradise (9) and which verset speaketh of the Folk and the Fire (10) and which verset containeth tenfold signs (11) and which verset (12) speaketh of Iblís (whom Allah curse!).” Then quoth the youth, “Listen to my answering, O Hajjaj, with the aid of the Beneficient King. Now the sublimest verset in the Book of Allah Almighty is the Throne verse;66 and the most imperious is the word of Almighty Allah, ‘Verily Allah ordereth justice and well-doing and bestowal of gifts upon kith and kin’;67 and the justest is the word of the Almighty, ‘Whoso shall have wrought a mithkál (nay an atom) of good works shall see it again, and whoso shall have wrought a mithkál (nay an atom) of ill shall again see it’;68 and the fullest of fear is that spoken by the Almighty, ‘Doth not every man of them desire that he enter into the Paradise hight Al-Na’im?’69 and the fullest of hope is the word of the Almighty, ‘Say Me, O My worshippers who have sinned against your own souls, do not despair of Allah’s ruth’;70 and the verset which containeth ten signs is the word of the Lord which saith71 ‘Verily in the Creation of the Heavens and the Earth and in the shifts of Night and Day and in the ships which pass through the sea with what is useful to mankind; and in the rain which Allah sendeth down from Heaven, thereby giving to the earth life after death, and by scattering thereover all the moving creatures, and in the change of the winds, and in the clouds which are made to do service between the Heavens and the Earth are signs for those who understand’; and the verset wherein believe both Jews and Nazarenes is the word of Alimighty Allah,72 ‘The Jews say the Nazarenes are on naught, and the Christians say the Jews are on naught, and both speak the sooth for they are on naught.’ And the verset wherein Allah Almighty speaketh purely of Himself is that word of Almighty Allah,73 ‘And I created not Jinn-kind and mankind save to the end that they adore Me’; and the verset which was spoken of the Angels is the word of Almighty Allah which saith,74 ‘Laud to Thee! we have no knowledge save what Thou hast given us to know, and verily Thou art the Knowing, the Wise.’ And the verset which speaketh of the Prophets is the word of Almighty Allah that saith75 ‘And We have already sent Apostles before thee: of some We have told thee, and of others We have told thee naught: yet no Apostle had the power to come with a sign unless by the leave of Allah. But when Allah’s behest cometh, everything shall be decided with truth; and then perish they who entreated it as a vain thing’; and the verset which speaketh of the Folk and the Fire is the word of Almighty Allah which saith76 ‘O out Lord! Bring us forth from her (the Fire), and, if we return (to our sins), we shall indeed be of the evildoers’; and the verset that speaketh of the People of Paradise is the word of Almighty Allah,77 ‘And they shall say: Laud to the Lord who abated to us grief, and verily our Lord is Gracious, Grateful’; and the verset which speaketh of Iblis (whom Allah Almighty accurse!), if the word of Almighty Allah,78 ‘He said: (I swear) therefore by thy glory, that all of them will I surely lead astray.’” Hereupon Al-Hajjaj exclaimed, “Laud to the Lord and thanksgiving Who giveth wisdom unto whoso He please! Never indeed saw I a youth like this youth upon whom the Almighty hath bestowed wits and wisdom and knowledge for all the tenderness of his age. But say me, who art thou, O young man?” Quoth the youth, “I am of the folk of these things,79 O Hajjaj.” Resumed the Lieutenant, “Inform me concerning the son of Adam what injureth him and what profiteth him?” And the youth replied, “I will, O Hajjaj; do thou and these present who are longing for permanency (and none is permanent save Allah Almighty!) be early the fast to break nor be over late supper to make; and wear light body-clothes in summer and gar heavy the headgear in winter, and guard the brain with what it conserveth and the belly with what it preserveth and begin every meal with salt for it driveth away seventy and two kinds of malady: and whoso breaketh his fast each day with seven raisins red of hue”— And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
60 The House of Háshim, great-grandfather to the Prophet.
61 Ibn Khallikan (vol. i. 354) warns us that “Al-Taî” means belonging to the Taî which is a famous tribe. This relative adjective is of irregular formation; analogy would require it to be Táîî; but the formation of relative adjectives admits some variations; thus from dahr (time) is derived duhrí (temporal) and from sahl (a plain), suhlí (plain, level). The author might also have told us that there is always a reason for such irregularities; thus ”Dahrí“ (from Dahr) would mean a Mundanist, one who believes in this world and not the next or another.
62 The “Banú Thakíf” was a noble tribe sprung from Iyád (Ibn Khallikan i. 358-363); but the ignorant and fanatic scribe uses every means, fair and foul, to defame Al-Hajjaj. It was a great race and a well known, living about Táif in the Highlands East of Meccah, where they exist to the present day. Mr. Doughty (loc. cit. ii. 174) mentions a kindred of the Juhaynah Badawin called El-Thegif (Thakíf) of whom the Medinites say, “Allah ya’alan Thegíf Kuddám takuf” (God damn the Thegíf ere thou stand still). They are called “Yahud” (Jews), probably meaning pre-Islamitic Arabs, and are despised accordingly.
63 In Arab. “Jady” = the Zodiacal sign Capricorn.
64 We find similar facetia in Mullah Jámí (Garden viii.). When a sheep leapt out of the stream, her tail happened to be raised, and a woolcarder said laughing:—“I have seen thy parts genital.” She turned her head and replied, “O miserable, for many a year I have seen thee mother-naked yet never laughed I.” This alludes to the practice of such artisans who on account of the heat in their workshops and the fibre adhering to their clothes work in naturalibus. See p. 178, the Beharistán (Abode of Spring). Printed by the Kamashastra Society for Private Subscribers only. Benares, 1887.
65 This passage is not Koranic, and, according to Prof. Houdas, the word “Muhkaman” is never found in the Holy Volume. [The passage is not a literal quotation, but it evidently alludes to Koran iii. 5: “Huwa’llazí anzalá ‘alayka ‘l-kitába minhu áyâtun muh-kamátun” = He it is who sent down to thee the book, some of whose signs (or versets) are confirmed. The singular “muhkamatun” is applied (xlvii.) to “Sáratun,” a chapter, and in both places the meaning of “confirmed” is “not abrogated by later revelations.” Hence the sequel of my first quotation these portions are called “the mother (i.e. groundwork) of the book,” and the learned Sayyid is not far from the mark after all. — ST]
66 Surah ii. (The Cow) v. 56, the verse beginning, “Allah! there be no God but He; . . . His Throne overreacheth the Heavens and the Hearth,” etc.
67 Surah lxxiii. (The Bee) v. 92, ending with, “And he forbiddeth frowardness and wrong-doing and oppression; and He warneth you that haply may ye be warned.”
68 Surah (Meccah) xcix. vv. 7 and 8: in text “Mithkála Zarratin,” which Mr. Rodwell (p. 28) englishes “an atom’s weight of good,” and adds in a foot-note, “Lit. a single ant.” Prof. Houdas would render it, Quiconque aura fait la valeur d’un mitskal de millet en fait de bien; but I hardly think that “Zarrah” can mean “Durrah” = millet. [“Mithkál” in this context is explained by the commentators by “Wazn” = weight, this being the original meaning of the word which is a nomen instrumenti of the form “Mif’ál,” denoting “that by which the gravity of bodies is ascertained.” Later on it became the well-known technical term for a particular weight. “Zarrah,” according to some glossarists, is the noun of unity of “Zarr,” the young ones of the any, an antlet, which is said to weigh the twelfth part of a “Kitmír” = pedicle of the date0fruit, or the hundredth part of a grain of barley, or to have no weight at all. Hence “Mukhkh al-Zarr,” the brains of the antlet, means a thing that does not exist or is impossible to be found. According to others, “Zarrah” is a particle of al-Habá, i.e. of the motes that are seen dancing in the sunlight, called “Sonnenstäubchen” in German, and “atomo solare” in Italian. Koran xxi. 48 and xxxi. 15 we find the expression “Mithkála Habbatin min Khardalin” = of the weight of a mustard-seed, used in a similar sense with the present quotation. — ST]
69 Surah lxx. 38, Mr. Rodwell (p. 60) translates, “Is it that every man of them would fain enter the Garden of Delights?”
70 Surah xxxix. 54: they sinned by becoming apostates from Al-Islam. The verset ends, “Verily all sins doth Allah forgive: aye, Gracious, and Merciful is He.”
71 Surah ii. 159; the quotation in the MS. is cut short.
72 Surah ii. 107; the end of the verse is, “Yet both are readers of the Book. So with like words say they (the pagan Arabs) who have no knowledge.”
73 Surah li. (The Scattering), v. 56.
74 Surah ii. v. 30.
75 Surah xl. (The Believer), v. 78. In the text it is fragmentary. I do not see why Mr. Rodwell founds upon this verset a charge against the Prophet of ignorance concerning Jewish history: Mohammed seems to have followed the Talmud and tradition rather than the Holy Writ of the Hebrews.
76 Surah (The Believers) lxiv. 108.
77 Surah xxxv. (The Creator or the Angels), v. 31: The sentence concludes in v. 32, “Who of His bounty hath placed us in a Mansion that shall abide for ever, therein no evil shall reach us, and therein no weariness shall touch us.”
78 Surah (“Sad”) lix. 54; Iblis, like Satan in the Book of Job, is engaged in dialogue with the Almighty. I may here note that Scott (p. 265) has partially translated these Koranic quotations, but he has given only one reference.
79 In text “Aná min ahli zálika,” of which the vulgar equivalent would be “Kizí” (for “Kazálika,” “Kazá") = so (it is)!
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth continued to Al-Hajjaj: - “And whoso breaketh his fast daily with seven raisins red of hue shall never find in his body aught that irketh him; moreover, whoso each morning eateth on the spittle80 three ripe dates all the worms in his belly shall be slain and whoso exceedeth in diet of boucan’d meat81 and fish shall find his strength weakened and his powers of carnal copulation abated; and beware lest thou eat beef82 by cause that ’tis a disease forsure whereas the soured milk of cows is a remedy secure and clarified butter is a perfect cure: withal is its hide a succor for use and ure. And do thou take to thee, O Hajjaj, the greater Salve.”83 Cried the Lieutenant, “What may be that?” and said the youth in reply, “A bittock of hard bread eaten84 upon the spittle, for indeed such food consumeth the phlegm and similar humours which be at the mouth of the maw.85 And let not the blood in the hot bath for it enfeebleth man’s force, and gaze not upon the metal pots of the Balnea because such sight breedeth dimness of vision. Also have no connection with woman in the Hammam for its consequence is the palsy; nor do thou lie with her when thou art full or when thou art empty or when thou drunken with wine or when thou art in wrath nor when lying on thy side, for that it occasioneth swelling of the testicle-veins;86 or when thou art under a fruit-bearing tree. Avoid carnal knowledge of the old woman87 for that she taketh from thee and giveth not to thee. Moreover let thy signet ring be made of carnelian88 because it is a guard against poverty; also a look at the Holy Volume every morning increaseth thy daily bread, and to gaze at flowing water whetteth the sight and to look upon the face of children is an act of adoration. And when thou chancest lose thy way, crave aidance of Allah from Satan the Stoned.” Hereupon quoth Al-Hajjaj, “Allah hath been copious to thee, O young man, for thou hast drowned me in the depths of thy love, but now inform me, Where is the seat of thy dignified behaviour?"—“The two eyes.” “And where is the seat of thy well-doing?"—“My tongue.” “And where is the seat of thy hearing?"—“The sensorium of mine ears.” “And where is the seat of thy smelling?"—“The sensorium of my nose.” “And where is the seat of thy taste?"—“My palate.” “And where is the seat of thy gladness?"—“My heart.” “And where is the seat of thy wrath?"—“My liver.” “And where is the seat of thy laughing?"—“My spleen.”89 “And where is the seat of thy bodily strenght?"—“My two shoulders.” “And where is that of thy weakness?"—“My two calves.” Hereupon Al-Hajjaj exclaimed, “Laud to the Lord and thanksgiving; for indeed, O young man, I see that thou knowest everything. So tell me somewhat concerning husbandry?"—“The best of corn is the thickest of cob and the grossest of grain and the fullest sized of shock.”90 “And what sayest thou concerning palm-trees?"—“The most excellent is that which the greatest of gathering doth own and whose height is low grown and within whose meat is the smallest stone.” “And what dost thou say anent the vine?"—“The most noble is that which is stout of stem and big of bunch.” “And what sayest thou concerning the Heavens?"—“This is the furthest extent of man’s sight and the dwelling-place of the Sun and Moon and all the Stars that give light, raised on high without columns pight and overshadowing the numbers beneath its height.” “And what dost thou say concerning the Earth?"—“It is wide dispread in length and breadth.” “And what dost thou say anent the rain?"—“The most excellent is that which filleth the pits and pools and which overfloweth into the wadys and the rivers.” Hereupon quoth Al-Hajjaj, “O young man inform me what women be the best”— And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
80 i.e. On an empty stomach, to “open the spittle” is = to break the fast. Sir Wm. Gull in his evidence before a committee of the House of Commons deposed that after severe labor he found a bunch of dried raisins as efficacious a “pick-me up” as a glass of stimulants. The value of dried grapes to the Alpinist is well known.
81 Arab. “Al-Kadíd” = jerked (charqui = chaire cuite) meat-flesh smoked, or (mostly) sun-dried.
82 I have noticed (i. 345) one of the blunders in our last unfortunate occupation of Egypt where our soldiers died uselessly of dysenteric disease because they were rationed with heating beef instead of digestible mutton.
83 Arab. “Al-Marham al-akbar.”
84 [In the text: “Al-Kisrat al-yábisah ‘alá ‘l-Rík fa-innahá tukhlik jamí’a má ‘alá fum al-mádah min al-balgham,” of which I cannot make anything but: a slice of dry bread (kisrah = piece of bread) on the spittle (i.e. to break the fast), for it absorbs (lit. uses up, fourth form of “khalik” = to be worn out) all that there may be of phlegm on the mouth of the stomach. Can it be that the dish “Khushk-nán” (Pers. = dry bread) is meant, of which the village clown in one of Spitta Bey’s tales, when he was treated to it by Harun al-Rashid thought it must be the “Hammám,” because he has heard his grandmother say, that the Hammám (bath) is the most delightful thing in the world?–ST]
85 The stomach has two mouths, oesophagic above (which is here alluded to) and pyloric below.
86 Arab. “‘Irk al-Unsá” = chordû testiculorum, in Engl. simply the cord.
87 The “‘Ajúz” is a woman who ceases to have her monthly period: the idea is engrained in the Eastern mind and I cannot but believe in it seeing the old-young faces of men who have “married their grandmothers” for money or folly, and what not.
88 Arab. “Al-‘Akík,” vol. iii. 179: it is a tradition of the Prophet that the best of bezels for a signet-ring is the carnelian, and such are still the theory and practice of the Moslem East.
89 Arab. “Tuhál;” in text “Tayhal.” Mr. Doughty (Arabia Deserta, i. 547) writes the word “Tahal” and translates it “ague-cake,” i.e. the throbbing enlarged spleen, left after fevers, especially those of Al-Hijáz and Khaybar. [The form “Tayhál” with a plural “Tawáhil” for the usual “Tihál” = spleen is quoted by Dozy from the valuable Vocabulary published by Schiaparelli, 1871, after an old MS. of the end of the xiii. century. It has the same relation to the verb “tayhal” = he suffered from the spleen, which “Tihál” bears the same verb “tuhil,” used passively in the same sense. The name of the disease is “Tuhál."— ST]
90 In text “Kasalah” = a shock of corn, assemblage of sheaves. It may be a clerical error for “Kasabah” = stalk, haulm, straw.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Al-Hajjaj said, “O young man, inform me what women be the best and the most enjoyable.”91—“One in winning ways excelling and in comeliness exceeding and in speech killing: one whose brow glanceth marvellous bright to whoso filleth his eyes with her sight and to whom she bequeatheth sorrow and blight; one whose breasts are small whilst her hips are large and her cheeks are rosy red and her eyes are deeply black and he lips are full-formed; one who if she look upon the heavens even the rocks will be robed in green, and if she look upon the earth her lips92 unpierced pearls shall rain; one the dews of whose mouth are the sweetest of waters; one who in beauty hath no peer nor is there any loveliness can with hers compare: the coolth of the eyes to great and small; in fine, one whose praises certain of the poets have sung in these harmonious couplets,93
‘A fair one to idolaters if she herself should show,
They’d leave their idols and her face for only Lord would know.
If in the Eastward she appeared unto a monk, for once
He’d cease from turning to the West and to the East bend low;
And into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit,
Assuredly the salt sea’s floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.’”
Hereupon quoth Al-Hajjaj, “Thou hast said well and hast spoken fair, O young man; and now what canst thou declare concerning a maiden of ten years old?” Quoth the youth, “She is a joy to behold.” “And a damsel of twenty years old?"—“a coolth to eyes manifold.” “And a woman thirty of age?"—“One who the hearts of enjoyers can engage.” “And in her fortieth year?"—“Fat, fresh and fair doth she appear.” “And of the half century?"—“The mother of men and maids in plenty.” “And a crone of three score?"—“Men ask of her never more.” “And when three score and ten?"—“An old trot and remnant of men.” “And one who reacheth four score?"—“Unfit for the world and for the faith forlore.” “And one of ninety?"—“Ask not of whoso in Jahím be.”94 “And a woman who to an hundredth hath owned?"—“I take refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned.” Then Al-Hajjaj laughed aloud and said, “O young man, I desire of thee even as thou describest womankind in prose so thou show me their conditions in verse;” and the Sayyid, having answered, “Hearkening and obedience, O Hajjaj,” fell to improvising these couplets,95
“When a maid owns to ten her new breasts arise
And like diver’s pearl with fair neck she hies:
The damsel of twenty defies compare
’Tis she whose disport we desire and prize:
She of thirty hath healing on cheeks of her;
She’s a pleasure, a plant whose sap never dries:
If on her in the forties thou happily hap
She’s best of her sex, hail to him with her lies!
She of fifty (pray Allah be copious to her!)
With wit, craft and wisdom her children supplies.
The dame of sixty hath lost some force
Whose remnants are easy to ravenous eyes:
At three score ten few shall seek her house
Age-threadbare made till afresh she rise:
The fourscore dame hath a bunchy back
From mischievous eld whom perforce Love flies:
And the crone of ninety hath palsied head
And lies wakeful o’ nights and in watchful guise;
And with ten years added would Heaven she bide
Shrouded in sea with a shark for guide!”
Hereupon Al-Hajjaj laughed aloud and all who were with him in assembly; and presently he resumed, “O youth, tell me concerning the first man who spake in verse96 and that was our common sire, Adam (The Peace be upon him!), what time Kábil97 slew Hábil his brother when her forefather improvised these lines,
‘Changed I see my country and all thereon;
Earth is now a blackavice, ugly grown:
The hue and flavour of food is fled
And cheer is fainting from fair face flown.
An thou, O Abel, be slain this day
Thy death I bemourn with heart torn and lone.
Weep these eyes and ‘sooth they have right to weep
Their tears are as rills flowing hills adown.
Kábil slew Hábil — did his brother dead;
Oh my woe for that lovely face, ochone!’”98
Hereat Al-Hajjaj asked, “O young man, what drove our ancestor to poetry?” whereto answered youth — And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
91 Of course the conversation drifts into matters sexual and inter-sexual: in a similar story, “Tawad dud,” the learned slave girl, “hangs her head down for shame and confusion” (vol. v. 225); but the young Sayyid speaks out bravely as becomes a male masculant.
92 [In the text: “Allatí lau nazarat ilá ‘l-samá la-a’shab (fourth form of ‘ashab with the affirmative ‘la’) al-Safá (pl. of Safát), wa lau nazarat ilá ‘l-arz la amtar taghru há (read thaghru-há) Lúluan lam yuskab wa ríku-há min al-Zulál a’zab (for a’zab min al-Zulál),” which I would translate: Who if she look upon the heavens, the very rocks cover themselves with verdure, and an she look upon the earth, her lips rain unpierced pearls (words of virgin eloquence) and the dews of whose mouth are sweeter than the purest water. - ST.]
93 These lines have often occurred before: see index (vol. x. 395) “Wa lau anunahá li ‘l-Mushrikin,” etc. I have therefore borrowed from Mr. Payne, vol. viii. 78, whose version is admirable.
94 For the Jahín-hell, see vol. viii. 111.
95 For the Seven Ages of womankind (on the Irish model) see vol. ix. 175. Some form of these verses is known throughout the Moslem East to prince and peasant. They usually begin:—
From the tenth to the twentieth year
To the gaze a charm doth appear;
and end with:—
From sixty to three score ten
On all befal Allah’s malison.
96 [Here I suppose the word “kál” has been dropped after “bi ‘l-shi’r,” and it should be: He (the youth) replied, that was our common sire, Adam, etc. — ST.]
97 “Habíl” and “Kábíl” are the Arab. equivalent of Abel and Cain. Neither are named in the Koran (Surah v. “The Table,” vv. 30-35), which borrows dialogue between the brothers derived from the Targum (Jeirus. on Gen. iv. 8) and makes the raven show the mode of burial to Cain, not to Adam, as related by the Jews. Rodwell’s Koran, p. 543.
98 Sit venia verbo: I have the less hesitation in making Adam anticipate the widow Malone from a profound conviction that some Hibernian antiquary, like Vallancey who found the Irish tongue in the Punic language of Plautus, shall distinctly prove that our first forefather spoke Keltic.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth replied, “He was driven to poetry by Iblis (whom Allah accurse!) when he spake in this verse,
‘Thou bewailest the land and all thereon
And scant was the breadth of Eden didst own,
Where thou was girded by every good
O’ life and in rest ever wont to wone:
But ne’er ceased my wiles and my guile until
The wind o’erthrew thee by folly blown.’”99
Whereupon quoth Al-Hajjaj, “O young man, inform me concerning the first couplet of verse spoken by the Arab in praise of munificence;” and quoth the youth, “O Hajjaj, the first Arabic distich known to me was spoken by Hátim of Tayy, and ’twas as follows,
‘And the guest I greet ere from me he go
Before wife and weans in my weal and woe.’”
Then cried Al-Hajjaj, “Thou hast said well and hast spoken fair, O young man; and thy due is incumbent upon us for that thou hast drowned us in the deeps of thy wisdom.” Presently the Lieutenant of Kufah turning towards one of his eunuchs said, “Bring me at this very moment a purse containing ten thousand dirhams100 upon a charger of red gold and a suit of the rarest of my raiment and a blood mare the noblest steed of my steeds with a saddle of gold and a haubergeon;101 and a lance of full length and a handmaid the handsomest of my slave-girls.” The attendant disappeared for a while, and presently brought all this between the hands of Al-Hajjaj, who said, “O young man, this damsel is the fairest of my chattels, and this be the purse on a charger of gold, and this mare is the purest in blood of my steeds together with her housings, so do thou take whatever thou desirest thereof, either the mare with all upon her or the purse of gold or the concubine,” presently saying to himself, “If the young man prefer the purse, ’twill prove he loveth the world and I will slay him, also if he choose the girl, he lusteth after womankind, and I will do him die: but if he take the mare and her furniture, he will show himself the brave of braves, and he meriteth not destruction at my hands.” Then the youth came forward and took the mare and her appointments. Now the damsel was standing by the young Sayyid, and she winked at him with her eye as one saying, “Do thou choose me and leave all the rest;” whereupon he began to improvise the following couplets,
“The jingling bridle at Bayard’s neck
Is dearer to me than what sign thou deign:
I fear when I fall into strait and fare
Abroad, no comrade in thee to gain:
I fear when lain on my couch and long
My sickness, thou prove thee nor fond nor fain:
I fear me that time groweth scant my good
And my hand be strait thou shalt work me bane:
A helpmate I want shall do what do I
And bear patient the pasture of barren plain.”102
Presently the handmaid answered his verse with the following couplets,
“Forfend me, Allah, from all thou say’st
Though my left with my right thou shalt hew in twain.
A husband’s honour my works shall keep
And I’ll wone content with his smallest gain:
Didst know me well and my nature weet
Thou hadst found me mate of the meekest strain.
Nor all of women are like to sight
Nor all of men are of similar grain.
The charge of a mate to the good belongs;
Let this oath by Allah belief obtain.”
Hearing these words Al-Hajjaj exclaimed, “Woe to thee, O damsel, dost thou answer him in his verse? and do thou O young man, take the whole, and may Allah give thee no blessing therein.”103 Answered by the young Sayyid, “Here with them, O Hajjaj, inasmuch as thou hast given them to me, I will not oppose the order of Allah through thee, but another time there is no union between us twain, me and thee, as there hath been this day.” Now the city of Al-Hajjaj had two gates — the door of Destruction and the door of Salvation; and when the youth asked him, “O Hajjaj, shall I go forth from this or from that?” the Lieutenant of Kufah cried, “Issue by this outlet,” and showed him the Gate of Safety. Then the youth took all the presents and fared forth by the passage which had been shown him, and went his ways and was seen no more. Hereupon the Grandees of the kingdom said to Al-Hajjaj, “O our lord, how hast thou given to him these gifts and he hath on nowise thanked thee, nor wished thee well104 for they favours, and yet hast thou pointed out to him the Gate of Salvation?” Hereupon he replied, “Verily, the youth asked direction of me, and it becometh the director to be trustworthy and no traitor (Allah’s curse be upon him who betrayeth!), and this youth meriteth naught save mercy by reason of his learning.”105
99 In text “Ríh,” wind, gust (of temper), pride, rage. Amongst the Badawín it is the name given to rheumatism (gout being unknown), and all obscure aching diseases by no means confined to flatulence or distension. [The MS. has: “ilá an káta-ka ‘l-‘amal al-rabíh,” which gives no sense whatever. Sir Richard reads: “kátala-ka ‘l-‘amal al-ríh,” and thus arrives at the above translation. I would simply drop a dot on the first letter of “káta-ka,” reading “fáta-ka,” when the meaning of the line as it stands, would be: until the work that is profitable passed away from thee, i.e., until thou ceasedst to do good. The word “rabíh” is not found in Dictionaries, but it is evidently an intensive of “rábih” (tijárah rábihah = a profitable traffic) and its root occurs in the Koran, ii. 15: “Fa-má rabihat Tijáratuhum” = but their traffic has not been gainful. — ST.]
100 Arab. “Badrah”: see vol. iv. 281. [According to Kámús, “Badrah is a purse of one thousand or ten thousand dirhams, or of seven thousand dínárs. As lower down it is called “Badrat Zahab,” a purse of gold, I would take it here in the third sense. — ST]
101 In text “Zardiyá,” for “Zardiyyah” = a small mail coat, a light helmet.
102 Arab. “‘Ind ‘uzzáti ’s -siníni” = lit. the thorny shrubs of ground bare of pasture.
103 This is another form of “inverted speech,” meaning the clean contrary; see vols. ii. 265; vi. 262; and vii. 179.
104 In text “Lam yakthir Khayrak”; this phrase (pronounced “Kattir Khayrak”) is the Egyptian (and Moslem) equivalent for our “thank you.” Vols. iv. 6; v. 171. Scott (p. 267) make Al-Hajjaj end with, “Cursed is he who doth not requite a sincere adviser, declareth our sacred Koran.”
105 In the W.M. MS. this tale is followed by the “History of Uns al-Wujúd and the Wazir’s daughter Rose-in-hood,” for which see vol. v. 32 et seq. Then comes the long romance “Mázin of Khorásán,” which is a replica of “Hasan of Bassorah and the King’s daughter of the Jinn” (vol. vii. 7). I have noted (vol. x. 75) that this story shows us the process of transition from the Persian original to the Arabic copy. “Mázin” is also the P.N. of an Arab tribe: De Sacy, Chrest. i. 406.
It is told in various relations of the folk (but Allah is All-knowing of His secret purpose and All-powerful and All-beneficent and All-merciful in whatso of bygone years transpired and amid peoples of old took place) that the Caliph Hárún al-Rashíd being straitened of breast one day summoned his Chief of the Eunuchs and said to him, “O Masrur!” Quoth he, “Adsum, O my lord;” and quoth the other, “This day my breast is straitened and I would have thee bring me somewhat to hearten my heart and consume my care.” Replied Masrur, “O my lord, do thou go forth to thy garden and look upon the trees and the blooms and the rills and listen to the warblings of the fowls.” Harun replied, “O Masrur, thou hast mentioned a matter which palleth on my palate107 nor may my breast be broadened by aught thou hast commended.” Rejoined the Eunuch, “Then do thou enter thy palace and having gathered thy handmaids before thee, let each and every say her say whilst all are robed in the choicest of raiment and ornaments; so shalt thou look upon them and thy spirits shall be cheered.” The Caliph retorted, “O Masrur, we want other than this;” whereupon quoth the slave, “O Prince of True Believers, send after the Wazirs and thy brotherhood of learned men and let them improvise for thee poetry and set before thee stories whereby shall thy care be solaced.” Quoth he, “O Masrur, naught of this shall profit me.” Hereat cried the Eunuch, “Then, O my lord, I see naught for thee save to take thy sabre and smite the neck of thy slave: haply and peradventure this may comfort thee and do away with thy disgust.”108 When the King Harun al-Rashid heard these words, he laughed aloud and said to him, “O Masrur, go forth to the gate where haply thou shalt find some one of my cup-companions.” Accordingly he went to the porte in haste and there came upon one of the courtiers which was Ali ibn Mansúr Al-Dimishkí and brought him in. The Commander of the Faithful seeing him bade him be seated and said, “O Ibn Mansur, I would have thee tell me a tale somewhat rare and strange; so perchance my breast may be broadened and my doleful dumps from me depart.” Said he, “O Prince of True Believers, dost thou desire that I relate to thee of the things which are past and gone or I recount a matter I espied with my own eyes?” Al-Rashid replied, “An thou have sighted somewhat worthy seeing relate it to us for hearing is not like beholding.” He rejoined, “O Emir al-Muuminín, whilst I tell thee this tale needs must thou lend me ear and mind;” and the Caliph109 retorted, “Out with thy story, for here am I hearkening to thee with ears and eyes wide awake, so that my soul may understand the whole of this say.” Hereupon Ibn Mansur related to him
Now when Al-Rashid heard the tale of Ibn Mansur there fell from him somewhat of his cark and care but he was not wholly comforted. He spent the night in this case and when it was morning he summoned the Wazir Ja’afar ibn Yahyá the Barmaki, and cried to him, “O Ja’afar!” He replied, “Here am I! Allah lengthen thy life, and make permanent thy prosperity.” The Caliph resumed, “Verily my breast is straitened and it hath passed through my thought that we fare forth, I and thou (and Eunuch Masrur shall make a third), and we will promenade the main streets of Baghdad and solace ourselves with seeing its several places and peradventure I may espy somewhat to hearten my heart and clear off my care and relieve me of what is with me of straitness of breast.” Ja’afar made answer, “O Commander of the Faithful, know that thou art Caliph and Regent and Cousin to the Apostle of Allah and haply some of the sons of the city may speak words that suit thee not and from that matter may result other matter with discomfort to thy heart and annoyance to thy mind, the offender unknowing the while that thou art walking the streets by night. Then thou wilt command his head to be cut off and what was meant for pleasure may end in displeasure and wrath and wrongdoing.” Al-Rashid replied, “I swear by the rights of my forbears and ancestors even if aught mishap to us from the meanest of folk as is wont to happen or he speak words which should not be spoken, that I will neither regard them nor reply thereto, neither will I punish the aggressor, nor shall aught linger in my heart against the addresser; but need must I pass through the Bazar this very night.” Hereupon quoth Ja’afar to the Caliph, “O Viceregent of Allah upon earth, do thou be steadfast of purpose and rely upon Allah!”111 Then they arose and arousing Masrur doffed what was upon them of outer dress and bagtrousers and habited themselves each one of them in garments differing from those of the city folks. Presently they sallied forth by the private postern and walked from place to place till they came to one of the highways of the capital and after threading its length they arrived at a narrow street whose like was never seen about all the horizons.112 This they found swept and sprinkled with the sweet northern breeze playing through it and at the head thereof rose a mansion towering from the dust and hanging from the necks of the clouds. Its whole length was of sixty cubits whereas its breadth was of twenty ells; its gate was of ebony inlaid with ivory and plated with plates of yellow brass while athwart the doorway hung a curtain of sendal and over it was a chandelier of gold fed with oil of ‘Irákí violets which brightened all that quarter with its light. The King Harun al-Rashid and the Wazir and the Eunuch stood marvelling at what they saw of these signs and at what they smelt of the scents breathing from the clarity113 of this palace as though they were the waftings of the perfumed gardens of Paradise and they cast curious glances at the abode so lofty and of base so goodly and of corners so sturdy, whose like was never builded in those days. Presently they noted that its entrance was poikilate with carvings manifold and arabesques of glittering gold and over it was a line writ in letters of lapis lazuli. So Al-Rashid took seat under the candelabrum with Ja’afar standing on his right and Masrur afoot to his left and he exclaimed, “O Wazir, this mansion is naught save in the utmost perfection of beauty and degree; and verily its lord must have expended upon it wealth galore and of gold a store; and, as its exterior is magnificent exceedingly, so would to Heaven I knew what be its interior.” Then the Caliph cast a glance at the upper lintel of the door whereupon he saw inscribed in letters of golden water which glittered in the rays of the chandelier,
“WHOSO SPEAKETH OF WHAT CONCERNETH HIM NOT SHALL HEAR WHAT PLEASETH HIM NOT.”
Hereupon quoth Al-Rashid, “O Ja’afar, the house-master never wrote yonder lines save for a reason and I desire to discover what may be his object, so let us forgather with him and ask him the cause of this legend being inscribed in this place.” Quoth Ja’afar, “O Prince of True Believers, yonder lines were never written save in fear of the curtain of concealment being withdrawn."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
106 MS. vol. v. pp. 92-94: Scott, vol. vi. 343: Gauttier, vi. 376. The story is a replica of the Mock Caliph (vol. iv. 130) and the Tale of the First Lunatic (Suppl. vol. iv.); but I have retained it on account of the peculiar freshness and naïveté of treatment which distinguishes it, also as a specimen of how extensively editors and scriveners can vary the same subject.
107 In text “Natar” (watching) for “Nataf” (indigestion, disgust).
108 Here again we have the formula “Kála ‘l-Ráwí"=the reciter saith, showing the purpose of the MS. See Terminal Essay, p. 144.
109 It were well to remind the reader that “Khalífah” (never written “Khalíf”) is=a viceregent or vicar, i.e. of the Prophet of Allah, not of Allah himself, a sense which was especially deprecated by the Caliph Abubakr as “vicar” supposes l’absence du chef; or Dieu est présent partout et à tout instant. Ibn Khal. ii. 496.
110 This tale, founded on popular belief in tribadism, has already been told in vol. vii. 130: in the W.M. MS. it occupies 23 pages (pp. 95- 118). Scott (vi. 343) has “Mesroor retired and brought in Ali Ibn Munsoor Damuskkee, who related to the Caliph a foolish narrative (!) of two lovers of Bussorah, each of whom was coy when the other wished to be kind.” The respectable Britisher evidently cared not to “read between the lines.”
111 In pop. parlance “Let us be off.”
112 Arab. “Al-áfak” plur. of Ufk, “elegant” (as the grammarians say) for the world, the universe.
113 [In MS. “Rankah” or “Ranakah,” probably for “Raunakah,” which usually means “troubled,”; speaking of water, but which, according to Schiaparelli’s Vocabulista, has also the meaning of “Raunak”=amenitas. As however “Ranakah” taken as fem. of “Ranak” shares with Raunakah the signification of “troubled,” it may perhaps also be a parallel form to the latter in the second sense. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Ja’afar the Barmecide said to the King, “Verily the master of this house never wrote yonder lines save in fear lest the curtain of concealment be withdrawn.” Hearing this the Caliph held his peace for a while and fell to pondering this matter then said he, “O Ja’afar, knock at the door and ask for us a gugglet of water;” and when the Wazir did his bidding one of the slaves called out from within the entrance, “Who is it rappeth at our gate?” Hereupon said Masrur to him, “O son of my uncle, open to us the door and give us a gugglet of water for that our lord thirsteth.” The chattel went in to his master, the young man, Manjáb hight, who owned the mansion, and said, “O my lord, verily there be at our door three persons who have rapped for us and who ask for a drink of water.” The master asked, “What manner of men may they be?” and the slave answered, “One of them sitteth under the chandelier and another of them standeth by his side and the third is a black slave between their hands; and all three show signs of staidness and dignity than which naught can be more.” “Go forth to them,” exclaimed the master, “and say to them, ‘My lord inviteth you to become of his guests.’” So the servile went out and delivered the message, whereat they entered and found five lines of inscription in different parts of the hall with a candelabrum overhanging each and every and the whole five contained the sentence we have before mentioned; furthermore all the lights were hung up over the legend that the writing might be made manifest unto whoso would read it. Accordingly Harun al-Rashid entered and found a mansion of kingly degree114 and of marvellous ordinance in the utmost that could be of beauty and ornament and five black slaves and as many Eunuchs were standing in the saloon to offer their services. Seeing this the Caliph marvelled with extreme marvel at the house and the housemaster who greeted them in friendly guise; after which he to whom the palace belonged sat down upon a divan and bade Al-Rashid sit over against him and signed to Ja’afar and Masrur to take their places in due degree,115 whilst the negroes and the eunuchs stood expecting their commands for suit and service. Presently was brought to them a huge waxen taper which lighted up the whole of the hall and the young house-master accosted the King and said to him, “Well come and welcome and fair welcome to our guests who to us are the most esteemed of folk and may Allah honour their places!” Hereupon he began to repeat the following couplets,116
“If the house knew who visits it, it would indeed rejoice
And stoop to kiss the happy place whereon her feet have stood;
And in the voice with which the case, though mute, yet speaks,
Exclaim, ‘Well come and many a welcome to the generous, and the good.’”
Presently Manjab the master of the house bade bring for his guests meats and viands meet for the great, of all kinds and of every colour, so they obeyed his orders, and when they had eaten their sufficiency they were served with confections perfumed with rose-water wondrous fine. Hereupon quoth the youth to Al-Rashid and those with him, “Almighty Allah make it pleasant to you117 and blame us not and accept our excuses for what Allah hath made easy to us at such time of night, and there is no doubt but that this be a fortunate day when ye made act of presence before us.” They thanked him and Al-Rashid’s breast was broadened and his heart was heartened and there fell from him all that whilom irked him. Then the youth shifted them from that place to another room which was the women’s apartment; and here he seated them upon the highest Divan and bade serve to them a platter containing fruits of all descriptions and ordered his servants to bring roast meats and fried meats and when this was done they set before them the service of wine. Anon appeared four troops of singers with their instruments of music and each was composed of five handmaids, so the whole numbered a score and these when they appeared before the master kissed ground between his hands and sat down each one in her own degree. Then amongst them the cups went about and all sorrow was put to rout and the birds of joyance flapped their wings. This continued for an hour of time whilst the guests sat listening to the performers on the lute and other instruments and after there came forward five damsels other than the first twenty and formed a second and separate set and they showed their art of singing in wondrous mode even as was done by the first troop. Presently on like guise came set after set till the whole twenty had performed and as Al-Rashid heard their strains he shook with pleasure — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
114 The text has “Martabat Saltanah” (for Sultániyah) which may mean a royal Divan. The “Martabah” is a mattress varying in size and thickness, stuffed with cotton and covered with cloths of various colours and the latter mostly original and admirable of figuration but now supplanted by the wretched printed calicoes of civilisation. It is placed upon the ground and garnished with cushions which are usually of length equally the width of the mattress and of a height measuring about half of that breadth. When the “Martabah” is placed upon its “Mastabah” (bench of masonry or timber) or upon its “Sarír” (a framework of “jaríd” or midribs of the palm), it becomes the Díwan=divan.
115 In text “Bi-izá-humá;” lit. vis-à-vis to the twain.
116 These have occurred vol. i. 176: I quote Mr. Payne (i. 156).
117 In text “Hanná-kumú ‘llah:” see “Hanian,” vol. ii. 5.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when Al-Rashid heard their strains, he shook with pleasure and wonder and joyance and enjoyment until he rent his robes118 and the house-master beholding this said to him, “O our lord, be the heart of thine enemies thus rended asunder!” Now there was amongst the handmaids a songstress who began to sing and to improvise these couplets,
“My world goes strait when thou art a-gone
And when fled from my ken in my heart dost wone119
And I love my love with a love as fond
As Jacob him who in pit was thrown.”
Hereupon Ja’afar was delighted with exceeding delight and rent his raiment even as the Caliph had done, but when the house-master saw this from him he ordered for the twain a suit of clothes that befitted them and bade strip them of the rended garments and clothed them in the new. Presently the young man said, “O my lords, your time is gleesome and Allah make it to you gladsome and broaden your hearts and from you fend everything loathsome and lasting to you be honour and all that is blithesome.” Hereupon he ordered another damsel to chaunt that was with her and when Masrur the Eunuch heard it he tare his garment as had been done by Al-Rashid and the Wazir, when the house-master bade bring for him a suit that besitted him and they donned it after doffing the torn clothes. Then the youth ordered a handmaid of the fourth set who sang a tune and spake these couplets,
“Thou hast a lover of looks lune-bright
And lighter than crescent120 he shows to sight;
For the sheen of the crescent shall ever wane
But he shall grow to a perfect light.”121
Hearing this Manjab the master of the house shrieked out a mighty loud shriek and tare his upper dress and fell aswoon to the ground, and as Al-Rashid looked upon him (and he bestrown in his fainting fit) he beheld upon his sides the stripes of scourging with rods and palm-sticks. At this sight he was surprised and said, “O Ja’afar, verily I marvel at this youth and his generosity and munificence and fine manners, especially when I look upon that which hath befallen him of beating and bastinadoing, and in good sooth this is a wondrous matter.” Quoth the other, “O our lord, haply someone hath harmed him in much money and his enemy took flight and the owner of the property administered to him this beating122 or peradventure someone lied concerning him, and he fell into the hands of the rulers and the Sultan bade bastinado him, or again perchance his tongue tripped and his fate was fulfilled to him.” Quoth Al-Rashid, “O Ja’afar, this youth be not in the conditions thou hast mentioned to me,” and, replied the other, “Sooth thou hast said, O our lord; by cause that indeed this young man, when we asked him for a gugglet of water invited us into his place and honoured us with all this honour and heartened our hearts and this was of the stress of his generosity and his abundant goodness.” Al-Rashid continued to converse with his Wazir while the young man did not recover from his swoon for a while of time, when another maiden of the maidens spoke out reciting these couplets,
“He adorns the branch of his tribal-tree,
Loves the fawn his song as his sight she see;
And beauty shines in his every limb
While in every heart he must stablished be.”
Hereat the young man came to himself and shrieked a mighty loud shriek more violent than the first and put forth his hand to his garment and rent it in rags and fell swooning a second time, when his sides were bared more fully than before until the whole of his back appeared and Al-Rashid was straitened thereby as to his breast and his patience made protest, and he cried, “O Ja’afar, there is no help but that I ask concerning the wheals of this bastinadoing.” And as they talked over the matter of the youth behold, he came to his senses and his slaves brought him a fresh suit and caused him don it, whereupon Al-Rashid came forward and said, “O young man, thou hast honoured us and favoured us and entreated us with such kindness as other than thyself could never do nor can any requite us with the like; withal there remaineth a somewhat in my heart”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
118 This is usually a sign of grief, a symbolic act which dates from the days of the Heb. patriarchs (Gen. xxxvii. 29-34); but here it is the mark of strong excitement. The hand is placed within the collar and a strong pull tears the light stuff all down the breast. Economical men do this in a way which makes darning easy.
119 [The MS. is very indistinct in this place, but by supplying “‘an” after “ghibta” and reading “‘ayní” for “‘anní,” I have no doubt the words are: Wa in ghibta ‘an ‘ayni fa-má ghibta ‘an kalbi=and if thou art absent from my eyes, yet thou are not absent from my heart. The metre is Tawíl and the line has occurred elsewhere in The Nights. — ST.]
120 I have already noted that “Hilál” is the crescent (waxing or waning) for the first and last two or three nights: during the rest of the lunar month the lesser light is called “Kamar.”
121 The sense is that of Coleridge. —
To be beloved is all I need;
And whom I love I love indeed.
122 There is something wrong in the text. I cannot help again drawing the reader’s attention to the skilful portraiture of the model Moslem Minister, the unfortunate Ja’afar. He is never described in the third person; but the simple dialogue always sets him off as a wise, conciliatory, benevolent, loveable and man-loving character, whose constant object is to temper the harshness and headstrong errors of a despotic master as the Caliph is represented to be by way of showing his kingliness. See vol. i., 102. [The MS. is certainly wrong here, but perhaps it can be righted a little. It has: “Kad yakún Z R H ahad fí Mál jazíl wa harab al-Maz’ún,” etc., where Sir Richard reads “zarra-hu”=he harmed, and Mazghún=the hated one, i.e. enemy. I have a strong suspicion that in the original from which our scribe copied, the two words were “zamin” and “al-Mazmún.” Zamin in the Arabic character would be {Arabic characters} The loop for the “m,” if made small, is easily overlooked; the curve of the “n,” if badly traced, can as easily be mistaken for “r” and a big dot inside the “n” might appear like a blotted “h”. Mazmún would become “Maz’ún” by simply turning the “m” loop upwards instead of downwards, an error the converse of which is so frequently committed in printed texts. Curiously enough the same error occurs p. 192 of the MS., where we shall find “na’ ‘al” with two ‘Ayns instead of “na’mal” with ‘Ayn and Mim. If this conjecture is correct the sense would be: Haply he may have stood security for someone for much money, and the person for whom security was given, took to flight, etc. For “zamin” with the acc. see Ibn Jubair ed. by Wright, 77, 2. I may say on this occasion, that my impression of the Montague MS. is, that it is a blundering copy of a valuable though perhaps indistinctly written original. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will.” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Al-Rashid said to the youth, the master of the house, “Withal there remaineth a somewhat in my heart which if I manifest not to thee will abide there to my displeasure in my thought; and, albeit there is nothing to equal that thou hast done with us, still I desire of thee and of the excellence of thy kindness a fulfilling of thy favour.” Said the youth, “What dost thou wish of me, ho thou the lord?” and said the Caliph, “I would have thee inform me concerning the scars upon thy sides and let me know for what cause they be there.” Now when the young man heard these words he bowed his brow groundwards and wept awhile, then he wiped his face and raised his head and asked, “What hath urged you to this? But the fault is from me and I merit a penalty even greater. O sons of impurity, say me have you not read the lines written over the doors of my house that here you are speaking of what concerneth you not and so right soon shall ye hear what pleaseth you not? However, had ye never entered my house you would not have known of my case and my shame123 and withal sooth spoke he who said amongst his many sayings,
‘We sowed kindness-seed but they wrought us wrong
Which is caitiff-work and a traitor-deed.’”
Resumed the young man, “O vilest of folk, you asked of me a gugglet of water, and I brought you into my house and honoured and welcomed you and you ate of my victual and my salt, after which I led you into my Harem with the fancy that ye were honest men and behold you are no men. Woe to you, what may ye be?” On this wise he continued to chide and revile them unknowing that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid stood before him, and presently the Prince of True Believers made reply, “We be folk of Bassorah.” “Truth you have spoken,” cried the other, “nothing cometh from Bassorah save the meanest of men and the weakest of wits but now rise up, O ye dung124 of mankind, O ye foulest of folk, and go forth from us and may Allah curse him who speaketh of whatso concerneth him not.” All this and Ja’afar and Masrur rose to their feet for shame of the youth and of what they had heard from him of ill language and they went from beside him. But Al-Rashid’s temper was ruffled and his jugulars swelled and the Hashimi vein stood out between his eyes and he cried, “Woe to thee, O Ja’afar! go this moment to Such-an-one the Wali and bid him muster his men of whom each one must have in hand an implement of iron, and let him repair to the mansion of this youth and raze it till it return to be level with the ground, nor let the morning dawn and show a trace thereof upon the face of earth.” Quoth Ja’afar to Al-Rashid, “O Prince of True Believers, from the very first we feared for all this, and did we not make condition on the subject? However, O our lord, the good man is not ruined by the good man and this work is not righteous; nay, ’tis wholly unright, and one of the sages hath said, ‘The mild in mind is not known save in the hour of wrath.’ But, O Prince of faithful men and O Caliph of the Lord who the worlds dost vice-reign, thou swarest an oath that although the vilest of men should ill-speak thee yet wouldest thou not requite him with evil, nor return him aught of reply nor keep aught of rancour in thy heart for his unmannerly address. Moreover, O our lord, the youth hath no default at all and the offence is from us, for that he forbade and forefended us and wrote up in many a place the warning words, Whoso speaketh of what concerneth him not, shall hear what pleaseth him not. Therefore he unmeriteth the pain of death. Now what we had better do in this case is as follows:— Send thou for the Wali and bid him bring the youth and when he is present between thy hands, encounter him with kindness that his fear may find rest and his affright be arrested after which he shall inform thee of whatso befel him.” Cried Al-Rashid, “This is the right rede and Allah requite thee with weal, O Ja’afar. ’Tis the like of thee should be Wazir of the Councillors and Counseller of the Kings.” Hereupon Harun al-Rashid returned to his palace in company with Masrur the eunuch, and they entered the aforesaid private door whereby they had gone forth, nor was any aware of them. But when Ja’afar reached his abode he took thought in his mind as to how he should act and how he should send the Wali to the young man and bring him into the presence; and presently he retraced his way afoot and going to the Chief of Police acquainted him with the matter of the youth and carefully described his house and said to him, “Needs must thou bring him to us in the front of morning, but do thou be courteous in thy dealing and show him comradeship and startle him not nor cause him aught of fear.” After this Ja’afar dismissed the Wali and returned to his own quarters. And when the morning morrowed the Chief of Police, having chosen him as escort a single Mameluke, made for the house of the youth, and when he had reached it knocked at the door, upon which the owner came out to him and the Wali knew him by the description wherewith Ja’afar had described him, so he bade him accompany him. Hereat the heart of the young man fluttered. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive.” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth’s heart fluttered when the Chief of Police summoned him to go in his company and he was smitten by sore fear; but the Wali said to him, “No harm shall befal thee: obey the summons of the Commander of the Faithful.” Now when he heard these words Manjab was terrified with sorer alarm and affright, so by leave of the Wali he entered his house and farewelled his family and familiars after which he fared forth with the Chief of Police saying, “Hearkening and obedience to Allah and to the Prince of True Believers.” Then he mounted his beast and the two rode together until they reached the Palace of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid where they craved admission to the presence; and, when leave was granted, the youth went in and standing between the hands of Harun he encouraged his intent and made his tongue eloquent and kissed ground between the royal hands and sat respectfully before him. Then he began with a tongue that was free of fear and showed naught of apprehension and spake the following lines,
“Hail to this place for such be honoured stead
Of God’s viceregent known to all and some:
Palace of Al-Rashid, our lord, which aye
Excelleth Heaven higher still become:
I haste that may I write what should be writ
And eloquent the writ albe ’tis dumb.”
After which he said, “The peace be upon thee, O Commander of the Faithful, and Allah prolong thy life and gladden unto thee what He hath given.” Hereat Al-Rashid raised his head, and returning his greeting signed to the Wazir Ja’afar who, as was his wont, stood by his side, and the Minister taking the youth’s hand, led him up to Al-Rashid and seated him beside him. “Draw near me,” said Harun al-Rashid, and the young man did accordingly until he was close to the King who thus addressed him, “O young man, what is thy name?” The other replied, “I am Manjab hight wherefrom hath been cut off all cause of delight and who for a year hath suffered parlous plight.” “O Manjab,” quoth the Caliph, “favour for favour and the beginner is the better, and ill for ill and the first is the worst, and whoso seed of good soweth shall reap it, and whoso planteth evil shall harvest it, and know thou, O Manjab, that yesterday we were thy guests, and that in thee was no default, but we transgressed against thee when thou honouredst us with most high honour, and favouredst us with the highmost favours. I desire, however, that thou relate to me the cause of the blows upon thy body and no harm shall befal thee.” The youth replied, “O Prince of True Believers, an thou desire to hear my tale order me a cushion to be placed on my right hand, and deign lend unto me three things, to wit, thine ears and thine eyes and thy heart, for verily my adventure is wondrous and were it graven with needle-gravers on the eye-corners it would be a warning to whoso would be warned and a matter of thought to whoso would think. Learn, O Commander of the Faithful, that my father was a jeweller man, a connoisseur in gems, who owned no son save myself; but when I had increased in age and had grown in stature and Allah had given me comeliness and perfection and beauty and brilliancy and plenty and good fortune, and my sire had brought me up with the best of education, Allah vouchsafed to him a daughter. Now as I had reached the age of twenty years my parent departed to the ruth of Allah Almighty, bequeathing to me a thousand thousand dinars and fiefs and tenements and landed estates, so I let perform for him a sufficiency of mortuary-ceremonies after committing him to mother earth, and caused read twenty perlections of the Koran, and bestowed for him in alms a mighty matter. I abode a-mourning for him a month full told, and when the term was ended my heart turned to diversion and disport and eating and drinking, and I made presents and gave away and doled charities of that my property, and I bought other tenements at the highest price. After this I purchased me singing damsels of the greatest value, and whosoever of my friends and companions was pleased with a musician girl I would hand her over to him without price; nay, I would present her in free gift, and if any saw aught of my belongings which pleased him and said to me, ‘This is nice,’ I would bestow it upon him without money-claim. Furthermore I robed all my familiars in honourable robes, and honoured them with the highest honour, lavishing all that was by me, and whatever my hand possessed, ever quoting these lines,
‘Rise, O comrade of cup, and to joy incline;
I’ve no patience, O brother, from pressing of wine:
See’st not how night with her hosts be fled
Routed, and morn doth her troops align?
How with Nadd and ambergris, rarest scents,
Rose laughs and smiles on us Eglantine?
This, my lord, is joy, this is pure delight.
Not standing at doors which the books confine.’
But when my mother, O Commander of the Faithful, espied these doings she reproached me, yet would I not be reproved. Then she saw that my wealth would be wasted, so she divided it between me and her, to each one half, a moiety for herself and her daughter, and the rest for myself. And presently she left me, carrying away her good and separated herself from me, abiding afar and leaving me to enjoy my frivolity and intoxication. I ceased not eating and drinking and diversion and disport, and enjoying the all-conquering faces of the beautiful,125 until the days smote me with their shafts, and all my wealth fell away from me and naught remained to me either above me or below me, and I ceased to be master of aught. Then my condition waxed strait, and as nothing was left to me at home I sold the pots and pans until I lacked even a sleeping-mat, and I used to patch my skirt with my sleeve. And naught profited me, neither friend nor familiar nor lover, nor remained there any one of them to feed me with a loaf of bread; so my case became hard and the folk entreated me evilly, nor was there one of my comrades or compeers who would take thought for me; nay more, when I met any of them on the road or at the receptions they would turn away their faces from me. So at last I took to pulling up the slabs126 of the house floor and selling them by way of a livelihood, and one day as I did on this wise, lo and behold! there opened in the floor a large vault whereinto I descended."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable;” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
125 [In the MS. “bi-Wujúh al Fániját al-Miláh.” The translator conjectures “al-fátihát,” which he refers to “Wujúh.” I read it “al-Ghániját,” in apposition with al-Miláh, and render: the faces of the coquettish, the fair. See index under “Ghunj."— ST.]
126 In text “Ballát,” the name still given to the limestone slabs cut in the Torah quarries South of Cairo. The word is classical, we find in Ibn Khaldún (vol. i. p. 21, Fr. Trans.) a chief surnommé el-Balt (le pavé), à cause de sa fermeté et de sa force de caractère.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth Manjab continued his tale to Al-Rashid in these words. “So I descended into the vault, O Commander of the Faithful, and I found there three boxes each containing five bags and every bag held five thousand gold pieces. I carried forth the whole of them and set them in an apartment of the apartments and returned the flag of the floor to its place. Then I pondered what my brethren and companions had done with me, after which, O Prince of True Believers, I bought handsome clothes and made my person as it was before; and as soon as those men who were with me of yore and upon whom I had spent my substance in gifts and presents beheld me on such wise they flocked around me again. I accepted of them for a device which I purposed carrying out and took patience with them for a whole month whilst they came to visit me every day. But when it was the thirty-first day I summoned the Kazi and his assessors whom I concealed in a private place and bade write a bond and an acceptance for everything they might hear from my familiars and friends. After this I spread a feast and assembled all my associates; and when we had eaten and drunken and made merry, I drew them on to talk and to each and every whom I had gifted with a present I said, ‘Allah upon thee, O Such-an-one, did I not donate to thee so-and-so without taking any return from thee?’ And they replied, ‘Yes, thou gavest it to me for naught.’ I continued, O Prince of True Believers, to address each and all after this fashion whilst the Kazi and witnesses wrote down against them everything they heard from them and documented every word until not one of my friends remained without confession. Then, O Commander of the Faithful, I rose to my feet without delay and ere anyone could leave the assembly I brought out the Kazi and his assessors and showed them the writ in the name of everyone, specifying whatso he had received from the youth Manjab. After this manner I redeemed all they had taken from me and my hand was again in possession thereof, and I waxed sound of frame and my good case returned to me as it had been. Now one day of the days I took thought in my mind, O Prince of True Believers, that I could open the shop of my sire and I would sit in it as my parent was wont to do, selling and buying in sumptuous Hindi cloths and jewelry and precious metals. Accordingly I repaired to the place, which I found fast locked and the spider had pitched her web-tent about it; so I hired a man to wipe it and sweep it clean of all that was therein. And when the Bazar folk and the merchants and the masters of shops saw me they rejoiced in me and came to congratulate me saying, ‘Praise be to Allah who opened not the store save for the owner thereof in succession to his sire.’ Then I took of merchandise a mighty matter and my shop became one whose like was not to be looked upon throughout the market-street, and amongst the goods I laid in were carnelians of Al-Yaman; after which I seated me upon my shop-board that very day and sold and bought and took and gave, and I ceased not to be after such wise for nine days. Now when it was the tenth day I entered the Hammam and came out after donning a dress which was worth one thousand gold pieces, and my beauty was increased and my colour waxed sheeny-bright and my youth looked as though it had been redoubled, and I was not such but that the women were like to throw themselves upon me. However, when I returned from the Baths and sat in my store for an hour or so behold, I heard a shout that came from the depths of the Bazar and heard one saying, ‘Have patience,’127 when suddenly I looked up and saw a stare-coloured mule whereon was a saddle of gold dubbed with pearls and gems, and upon it an old woman was riding accompanied by three pages. She ceased not going till she stood at my shop-door where she drew rein and her servants halted with her. Then she salam’d to me and said, ‘How long is’t since thou hast opened this store?’ and said I, ‘This day is the full tenth.’ Quoth she, ‘Allah have ruth upon the owner of this shop, for he was indeed a merchant.’ Quoth I, ‘He was my parent,’ and replied she, ‘Thou art Manjab named and as uniter of thy friends enfamed.’ Said I, ‘Yes!’ whereat she smiled and questioned me, ‘And how is thy sister, and what is the condition of thy mother, and what is the state of thy neighbours?’ ‘They are all well,’ said I, when said she, ‘O my son, O Manjab, thou hast grown up and reached man’s estate.’ Rejoined I, ‘Whoso liveth groweth up;’ and she continued, ‘Say me hast thou a necklace of gems which is pleasing to the sight?’ I responded, ‘With me in the shop are many necklaces but I have better at home and I will bring them for thee betimes to-morrow if it be the will of Almighty Allah.’ When she heard these my words she returned by the way she came and her pages walked by her side; and at the end of the day I went to my mother and informed her of the adventure how it was with the old woman and she said, ‘O my son, O Manjab, verily that ancient dame is a confidential nurse and she conferreth benefits upon the folk amongst whom was thy sire before thee: therefore do thou be urgent in bringing about her business nor do thou forgo thine appointment with her.’ The old woman disappeared for a day; but on the next she returned in her wonted state and when she came to my shop she said, ‘O Manjab, arise and mount thy mule in weal and good health!’ So I left my store and mounted my she-mule."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you in the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
127 In text “Usburú"=be ye patient, the cry addressed to passengers by the Grandee’s body-guard.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth Manjab said to the Prince of True Believers, “So I mounted my she-mule and I went with the old woman until I came to a mansion built of stone and wide of gates; so we dismounted, I and she, and entered the door, I following after her until we came to the great hall. There I found, O Prince of True Believers, carpets of fine silk and embroidered hangings and mattresses of gold-cloth and vases of the same kind all golden and fine brocades and jars of porcelain and shelves of crystal; in fine I saw things which I may not describe to thee, O Commander of the Faithful. And at the side of the mansion within were four bench-seats of yellow brass, plain and without carving, and the old woman seated me upon the highest mattress and she pointed out to me a porch where stood pourtrayed all manner birds and beasts, and hills and channels were limned. Now as I cast my eye over these paintings suddenly a young lady accosted us speaking with a delicate voice demure and words that the sick and sorry would cure and she was behind a hanging and saying, ‘Whoso hath let down this curtain let him receive one hundred stripes.’ Then she bade withdraw it and they removed it and behold, I felt as though the lightning were gleaming and glittering and it took away my sight until my head was near striking the ground, for there stood before me a young lady of lance-like stature and a face like the morning bright as though she were a chandelier a-hanging amid the cressets. She was dressed in sumptuous raiment and was even as said of her the poet,
‘To us she bent whenas Night hung her veil
And nigh went she my sense to turn from right;
And rang her anklets and her necklace chimed
With dainty music to my tearful plight.
Showed me that her face a four-fold charm,
Water and fire and pitch and lamping light.’
Then, O Commander of the Faithful, she cried out to the slave girls, ‘Woe to you, where is the Nurse,’ and when she was fetched between her hands she asked her, ‘Hast thou brought the jeweller;’ and the other answered, ‘Yea, verily, O lady of loveliness, and here he is sitting like the full moon when it easteth.’ The young lady cried, ‘O old woman, is this he or is it his servant?’128 Whereto she replied, ‘No, ’tis he himself, O lady of loveliness.’ Quoth the other, ‘By the life of my youth,129 thou deservest naught for this130 save whatso thou fanciest not and thou hast raised me from before my food131 while yet I fancied that he merited rising up to him.’ Then she considered me and cried, ‘Am I then in this fashion become132 a bundle of dirty clothes all of poverty, and say me now, hast thou not even washed thy face?’ But I, O Prince of True Believers, was still as I came forth from the Hammam and my countenance was shining like unto lightning. Hereat I made myself exceeding small and it mortified me to hear how she had found fault with my face and befouled my dress, scorning me till I became between her hands smaller than the very smallest. Then she fixed her sight upon me and she said to me, ‘Thou art Manjab hight, thou dogs’ trysting-site or gatherer of friends as saith other wight, but by Allah how far be familiars and friends from thy sight, O thou Manjab hight! Now, however, do thou look upon me, O Jeweller man, the while I eat and when my meal shall end there will be talk.’ Hereupon, O Commander of the Faithful, they brought her a crystal platter in a golden basin and therein were the thighs of fowls; so she took seat before me and fell to eating without shyness or difficulty as though in her presence I were other than a son of Adam. And I stood looking at her and whenever she raised her wrist to take up a morsel, the dimple133 became manifest from without, and upon the skin was a tattoo of green colour and about it jewelled ornaments134 and armlets of red gold and a pink dye appeared upon the whiteness of her hand: so glory be to Him who created her and she was naught but a seduction to whoso espied her and blessed be Allah the best of Creators. May the Almighty have ruth upon the poet who said concerning the beauty of his lover these couplets,
‘Rise and pass me the wine, O thou son of Mansúr;
And for stopping it hope not my pardon forsure:
Let it come by the hand of a fair white maid
As though she had fared from the Heav’n of the Húr:
When we see the figure her wrist adorns
’Tis a musk grain lying on limestone pure.’
Then, O Prince of True Believers, she fell to conversing with me hending in hand a broidered kerchief wherewith whenever she had eaten a morsel she wiped her lips and when her sleeve fell from off her wrist she tucked it up even as the poet said of such,
‘She hideth her face from the folk,
With a wrist whereon Ottars abound;
And to eye of watcher it seems
Gold shaft on Moon’s silvern round.’
Now when she had eaten, O Commander of the Faithful, I gazed at her face and she cried, ‘O ye women, behold how Manjab looketh upon me and I am eating till my nature cry enough;’ presently adding, ‘O Manjab, what calamity hath befallen thee that thou comest not forward and eatest not of this food?’ So I drew anigh and ate with her, but I was dazed of my wits and sore amazed at her ways."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
128 The “young person” here begins a tissue of impertinences which are supposed to show her high degree and her condescension in mating with the jeweller. This is still “pretty Fanny’s way” amongst Moslems.
129 A “swear” peculiarly feminine, and never to be used by men.
130 In text “‘Alà-Aklí:” the whole passage is doubtful.
[I would read, and translate the passage as follows: “Má tastahlí ‘alá hazá illá shay lá tazann-hu allazí (for “allatí,” see Suppl. iv. 197) kayyamtíní (2nd fem. sing.) min ‘alá aklí wa aná zanantu innahu man yújab la-hu al-kiyám; thumma iltifatat illayya wa kálat hakazá sirtu aná la-ghazárat al-thiyáb al-wasikhat min al-fakr fa-hal má ghasalta wajhak?"=Thou deservest not for this but a thing thou doest not fancy, thou who madest me rise from before my food, while I thought he was one to whom rising up is due. Then she turned towards me, saying, “Am I then in this manner (i.e. like thyself) a bundle of clothes all dirty from poverty, and hast thou therefore (“fa” indicating the effect of a cause) not washed thy face?” Or to put it in more intelligible English: “Am I then like thyself a heap of rags that thou shouldst come to me with unwashed face?"— ST.]
131 Of the respect due to food Lane (M. E. chapt. xiii.) tells the following tale: “Two servants were sitting at the door of their master’s house, eating their dinner, when they observed a Mameluke Bey with several of his officers, riding along the streets towards them. One of these servants rose, from respect to the Grandee, who regarding him with indignation, exclaimed, Which is the more worthy of respect, the bread which is before thee or myself? Without awaiting a reply, he made, it is said, a well-understood signal with his hand; and the unintending offender was beheaded on the spot.” I may add that the hero of the story is said to have been the celebrated “Daftardar” whose facetious cruelties have still a wide fame in the Nile Valley.
132 I would read (for “Sirtu ansa”=I have become) “Sirt’ anta”=thou hast become.
133 In text “Mukh;” lit.=brain, marrow.
134 [In Ar. “Wa zand mujauhar fí-hi Asáwir min al-Zahab al-ahmar,” which may mean: and a fore-arm (became manifest), ornamented with jewels, on which were bracelets of red gold. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating that Manjab continued to the Caliph, “Verily I came forward and ate with her, but I was so dazed of my wits and so sore amazed at her beauty and loveliness that as I took up a mouthful to carry it to my mouth behold, I would carry it to my eyes in consequence of what befel me from seeing that was in this young lady. And presently she fell to laughing at me and inclining towards me in her haughtiness and in beauty’s pride, saying at the same time, ‘By Allah, indeed this man is a maniac and a Bahlul:135 where is thy mouth and how far from thine eye?’ So said I, ‘By Allah, O lady of loveliness, I am nor a madman nor a Bahlul, but whilst looking at thy beauty my wits have fled and I am in condition of unknowing how I ate.’ Then she asked me, ‘Do I please thee, O Manjab?’ and I answered her ‘Yes! Walláhi, O my lady, indeed thou dost.’ Quoth she, ‘What should be the penalty of him who owning me and my white beauties136 shall then forsake me to take other than myself?’ and quoth I, ‘His award should be a thousand stripes upon his right side and as many upon his left ribs, together with the cutting off of his tongue and his two hands and the plucking out of either eye.’ She cried, ‘Wilt thou marry me upon this condition?’ and I replied, ‘O my lady, dost thou mock and laugh at me?’ Said she, ‘No, by Allah, my word is naught save a true word’; and said I, ‘I am satisfied and I accept this compact; however do thou make haste and delay not.’ But when she looked at me and heard mine intent regarding the marriage she shook with joy and pride and she inclined towards me as she sat before me and my senses were like to take flight. Then she rose up and left me for an hour and came back dressed in sumptuous garments and fairer than before, and perfumes reeked from her sides as she walked between four handmaidens like unto the refulgent moon. But I, when I looked upon her in this condition, cried out with a loud outcry and fell fainting to the ground for what befel me from her beauty and perfection: and she had no design therein, O Commander of the Faithful, save her favour for me. When I came to myself she said, ‘O Manjab, what dost thou say of my beauty and comeliness?’ and I replied, ‘By Allah, O lady of loveliness, there is none in this time can be thy peer.’ Then quoth she, ‘An I please thee thou wilt be content with these conditions?’ whereto quoth I, ‘Content! CONTENT!! CONTENT!!!’ Thereupon she bade summon the Kazi and the assessors who came without stay or delay and she said to the Judge ‘Do thou listen to the condition of this marriage and write from his word of mouth a bond on oath and under penalty for breaking it, to the effect that if he betray me and mate with other or by way of right or of unright, I will smite him a thousand stripes on his right side and as many on his left ribs and I will cut off his tongue and his two hands and I will pluck out his either eye.’ Said the Kazi to me, ‘Shall we bear witness against thee with this condition?’ and when I answered ‘Yes,’ he wrote out, O Commander of the Faithful, his testimony together with the penalty, while I hardly believed in all this. Presently, she brought out a tray, whereupon were a thousand miskals of gold and a thousand dirhams of silver which she scattered among the Kazi and witnesses; so they took them and went their ways having duly tied the marriage-knot and indited the penalty thereto attached. Then they served up food and we ate and drank and I lay with her that night in the pleasantest of nighting and the gladsomest of living and I only desired that morning would never appear for the stress of what befel me of joyance and delight; and, verily, I never saw and never heard and never knew any that was the like of her. So I abode with her, O Prince of True Believers, for seven days which passed away as one watch,137 and on the eighth she said to me, ‘O thou Manjab named and for friend of friends enfamed, do thou take this purse wherein are a thousand dinars and buy with it merchandise of necklaces and gems and fine clothes wherewith to beautify thy shop and other things that befit thee; for ’tis my will that thou become the greatest of men in the Bazar and that none therein shall boast of more good than thyself. Moreover ’tis my wish, O Manjab, that thou fare to thy store at early dawn and return to me about noon-tide, lest my breast be straitened by thine absence.’ Replied I, ‘Hearkening and obedience,’ but, O Commander of the Faithful, it was mine intent and desire never to fare forth from her, or by night or by day, from the stress of what befel me of enjoyment with my bride. Now she was wont every hour to go don a dress other than that which was upon her, and when I saw her in that condition I could not contain my passion, so I would arise and fulfil my need of her and she would do likewise. Also, as soon as morn appeared I would repair to my shop and open it and take seat therein until midday, at which time my mule would be brought me to ride homewards when she would meet me alone at the threshold whereupon opened the door of her apartment. And I would throw my arms round her neck as soon as she appeared to me till she and I entered the Harem where I had no patience from her but was fain to enjoy my desire. After this she would cry to her women and bid them bring us dinner whereof I ate with her, and in due time she would arise and command her slave-girls to clean the Hammam and perfume it with pastiles of lign-aloes and ambergris adding a sufficiency of rose-water. Then we would enter it, I and she, and doff our dresses when I again lost patience until I had my will of her twice or three times.138 Anon we would wash and wipe ourselves with apron napkins of thick silk and drying towels of palm-fibre, after which she would cry aloud to the women who, coming to us at her call, would bring sherbets and we would drink, I and she, until mid-afternoon. Then I would mount my she-mule and return to my store and as evening fell I would order the slave to padlock the door and I would return to my house. Now I abode in such case for ten months, but it fortuned one day of the days that, as I was sitting upon my shop-board, suddenly I saw a Badawi woman bestriding a she-dromedary and she was marked with a Burka’139 of brocade and her eyes danced under her face-veil as though they were the wantoning eyes of a gazelle. When I looked upon her, O Commander of the Faithful, I was perplexed as to my affair."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
135 For this famous type of madman see Suppl. Vol. vi.
136 [Ar. “Ghurrát,” which may be bright looks, charms, in
general, or according to
Bocthor, fore-locks. The more usual plural of “Ghurrah” is “Ghurar."— ST.]
137 In the text “Darajah”=an instant; also a degree (of the Zodiac). We still find this division of time in China and Japan, where they divide the twenty-four hours into twelve periods, each of which is marked by a quasi-Zodiacal sign: e.g. —
Midnight until 2 a.m. is represented by the Rat.
2 a.m. until 4 a.m. is represented by the Ox.
4 a.m. until 6 a.m. is represented by the Tiger.
6 a.m. until 8 a.m. is represented by the Hare.
8 a.m. until 10 a.m. is represented by the Dragon.
10 a.m. until noon is represented by the Serpent.
Noon until 2 p.m. is represented by the Horse.
2 p.m. until 4 p.m. is represented by the Ram.
4 p.m. until 6 p.m. is represented by the Ape.
6 p.m. until 8 p.m. is represented by the Cock.
8 p.m. until 10 p.m. is represented by the Hog.
10 p.m. until midnight is represented by the Fox.
See p. 27 Edit. ii. of C. B. Mitford’s Tales of Old Japan, a most important contribution to Eastern folklore.
[“Darajah” is, however, also used for any short space of time; according to Lane It is=4 minutes (i.e. the 24 hours or 1,440 minutes of the astronomical day divided into 360 degrees of 4 minutes each), and Bocthor gives it as an equivalent for our instant or moment. — ST.]
138 The young fool vaunts his intersexual powers, apparently unknowing that nothing can be more fatal to love than fulfilling the desires of a woman who, once accustomed to this high diet, revolts against any reduction of it. He appears to have been a polisson by his own tale told to the Caliph and this alone would secure the contempt of a high-bred and high-spirited girl.
139 The “nosebag”; vol. ii. 52, etc. The Badawíyah (Badawí woman) generally prefers a red colour, in opposition to the white and black of civilisation; and she of the Arabian Desert generally disdains to use anything of the kind.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth Manjab to the Caliph, “O Prince of True Believers, when I beheld the eyes of the Badawi woman under her Burka’ which were like those of a gazelle they tempted my passions herto and I forgot my oath and its penalty and the Kazi and witnesses. Then she approached me and said, ‘Allah give thee long life, O Chief of the Arabs;’ and said I, ‘To thee too, O most seemly of semblance!’ Cried she, ‘O comely of countenance, say me, hast thou a necklace fine enough for the like of me;’ whereto I rejoined, ‘Yes.’ Then I arose and brought out one to her, but she seeing it said, ‘Hast thou naught better than this?’ So I displayed to her, O Commander of the Faithful, all the necklaces I had by me in the shop but, none of them pleasing her, I said, ‘In all the stores there is naught finer than these.’ Then, O Prince of True Believers, she brought out to me from off her neck a carcanet and said, ‘I want one such;’ and, as I looked upon it, I knew that there was nothing like it in my store, and that all I had by me of collars and jewels and other goods were not worth a single grain of that carcanet. So I said to her, ‘O Winsome of Eyes, this is a thing whereto none of this time can avail save it be with the Commander of the Faithful or with his Wazir Ja’afar bin Yahyá the Barmaki.’ Quoth she, ‘Wilt thou buy it of me?’ and quoth I, ‘I have no power to its price,’ when she exclaimed, ‘I require no payment for this necklace, and I want from thee nothing save a kiss upon thy cheek.’ Then said, I, ‘O Lady of loveliness, bussing without treading I trow is like a bowyer sans a bow,’ and she replied, ‘Whoso kisseth surely treadeth.’ Then, O Prince of True Believers, she sprang from off her dromedary and seated herself beside me within my store, so I arose with her and went into the inner room, she following me (albeit I expected not this from her), and when we were safely inside she clasped me to her bosom and encountered me with her breasts never withal withdrawing her veil from her face. Hereat I lost all power over my senses and when I felt her strain me to her bosom I also strained her to mine, and fulfilled of her my desire after the fairest fashion. And when this was done she sprang to her feet even as springeth the lion from his lair, and flying to the door of the shop swiftlier than a bird and leaving the necklace with me, she mounted her dromedary and went her ways. I imagined, O Prince of True Believers, that she would never return to me at all; so my heart rejoiced in the necklace which she had left and I was of that fancy and opinion anent the matter and manner of her going, when suddenly my pages brought me the she-mule, and said to me, ‘O our lord, rise up and fare to the house, for that our lady hath required thee at this very hour and she hath caused dinner to be served and sore we fear lest it wax cold.’ Therefore, O Commander of the Faithful, I found it impossible to bathe140 by reason of the pages which were standing with the mule at the door of my shop; so I mounted and rode home. I entered my house according to my usual habit when my wife met me and said to me ‘O my dearling, my heart hath been occupied with thee this day, for thou has tarried away from me so long a time and contrary to thy custom is delaying on such a day as this.’ Said I, ‘This morning the Bazar was crowded exceedingly and all the merchants were sitting in their shops, nor was it possible for me to rise from my store whilst the market was so warm.’ Quoth she, ‘O my dearling and coolth of mine eyes, I was at this moment sitting and reading in the Sublime Volume when there befel me a doubt concerning a word in the chapter ‘Yá Sín’141 and I desire that thou certify it to me that I may learn it by heart from thee.’ Quoth I, ‘O lady of loveliness, I am unable to touch The Book much less may I read the Koran;’ and quoth she, ‘What is the cause of that?’ Replied I, ‘I was sleeping at the side of my shop when I had a polluting dream;’ and she rejoined, ‘An this thy speech be sooth-fast thy bag-trowsers must be fouled, so draw them off that I may see to their washing.’ I retorted, ‘Indeed my trowsers are not bewrayed because I doffed them before lying down to sleep.’ Now when she heard these my words, O Commander of the Faithful, she said to a slave of my slaves whose name was Rayhán, ‘O man, go and open the shop and bring the kerchief that is therein.’142 Then said I, ‘O lady of lovelings, I presented it in alms-gift to an old woman who was naked of head and her condition pained me and her poverty, so I largessed it to her.’ Rejoined she, ‘Say me, was the old woman she who was mounted on the dromedary, the owner of the valuable necklace which she sold to thee for a kiss when thou saidst to her, ‘O Winsome of Eyes, bussing without treading I trow, is as a bowyer sans bow.’ Now when her words were ended, O Commander of the Faithful, she turned to her women and cried to them, ‘Bring hither this moment Sa’ídíyah, the kitchen-wench,’ and when she came between her hands behold, she was a slave-girl, a negress, and she was the same in species and substance who came to me under the form of a Badawi woman with a face-veil of brocade covering her features. Hereupon my wife drew the Burka’ from before the woman’s face and caused her doff her dress, and when she was stripped she was black as a bit of charcoal. Now as soon as I saw this, O Viceregent of Allah, my wits were bewildered and I considered my affair and I knew not what to do, thinking of the conditions whereto I had consented."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
140 This ablution of the whole body he was bound to perform after having had carnal knowledge of a woman, and before washing he was in a state of ceremonial impurity. For “Ghusl,” or complete ablution, see vol. v. 80.
141 “The Heart of the Koran,” chap. xxxvi. see vol. iv. 50.
142 The Mandíl apparently had been left in the shop by the black slave-girl. Women usually carry such articles with them when “on the loose,” and in default of water and washing they are used to wipe away the results of car. cop.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Manjab continued, “And I thought of the conditions whereto I had consented and the penalty which had been written for me by the Kazi in the presence of his assessors, so I wandered from my right mind when she looked at me and said, ‘Is this our compact, O Manjab hight, thou dogs’ trysting-site?’ and when I heard her speech, O Commander of the Faithful, I hanged my head ground-wards and could not return a reply, nor even attempt to address her could I. Said she, ‘Woe to thee, did I not say to thee, ‘O Manjab hight, thou who with curs dost unite and no foregatherer with friendly wight?’ Woe to thee, and he lied not who said that in men-kind there be no trust. But how, O Manjab, didst thou prefer this slave-girl before me and make her my equal in dress and semblance? However, O ye women, do ye send and bring the Kazi and the assessors at this moment and instant.’ So they fetched them without stay or delay, and they produced the obligation which had been written, with the penalty duly attested by testimony. Then she said to the witnesses, ‘Read all that for him,’ and they did so and asked me, ‘What hast thou to say about this obligation and the punishment for breaking it?’ Answered I, ‘The document is right and fair, nor have I aught to utter thereanent.’ Hereupon, O Prince of True Believers, she summoned the Governor and his officials, and I confessed before them and bore witness against myself, when they reviled me and abused me, and I told them the tale full and complete. But they would not excuse me and they all cried, ‘Verily, thou deserves splitting or quartering;143 thou who wouldst abandon this beauty and perfection and brilliancy and stature and symmetry and wouldst throw thyself upon a slave-girl black as char-coal; thou who wouldst leave this semblance which is like the splendours of moonlight and wouldst follow yon fulsome figure which resembleth the murks of night.’ Hereupon, O Prince of True Believers, she said to the Governor, ‘Hearken unto what I tell thee. I bear witness against myself that I have excused him the cutting off his hand and tongue and the plucking out his eyes; but do ye redeem my rights of him by one condition.’ ‘And what may that be?’ asked they; and she answered, ‘A thousand stripes upon his right side, and as many upon his left ribs.’ Hereupon, O Commander of the Faithful, they seized me and smote me upon my right flank until I was estranged from the world,144 and after they took a handful of salt, which they rubbed upon the wounds.145 Then they applied a thousand stripes to my left ribs, and threw over me a ragged robe wherewith to veil my shame. But my flanks had been torn open by such a bastinado, nor did I recover for a space of three days, when I found myself lying cast-out upon a dunghill. Seeing this my condition, I pulled myself together, and arising walked to the mansion wherein I was wont to wone; but I found the door locked with three padlocks and it was empty and void, nor was voice or sound to be heard therein at all, and ’twas, as said one of the poets in this couplet,
‘The chambers were like a beehive well stocked;
When the bees quitted them they became empty.’146
So I lingered there an hour of time, when a woman suddenly came out from one of the neighbouring houses and asked me, ‘What dost thou want, O asker; and what seekest thou?’ I answered, ‘We are in quest of the owners of this mansion;’ and said she, ‘Here they were in crowds and then they abandoned it, and may Allah have mercy upon him who spake these two couplets,
‘They fared and with faring fled rest from me
And my parted heart no repose can see:
Have ruth on a wight with a heart weighed by woes
Seest not how their door is without a key?’
Then indeed I repented, O Commander of the Faithful, over that I had done and regretted what had befallen me and what had proceeded from me of ill-deeds, and quoth I to the woman who had addressed me, ‘Allah upon thee, O my mistress, say me hast thou of their traces any tidings?’ “— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent, and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
143 In Arab. “Shakk.” The criminal was hung up by the heels, and the executioner, armed with a huge chopper, began to hew him down from the fork till he reached the neck, when, by a dextrous turn of the blade, he left the head attached to one half of the body. This punishment was long used in Persia and abolished, they say, by Fath Ali Shah, on the occasion when an offender so treated abused the royal mother and women relatives until the knife had reached his vitals. “Kata’ al-‘Arba’,” or cutting off the four members, equivalent to our “quartering,” was also a popular penalty.
144 In text “Ghibtu ‘an al-Dunyá,” a popular phrase, meaning simply I fainted.
145 This was done to staunch the blood: see the salt-wench in vol. i. 341.
146 This couplet has repeatedly occurred: in the preceding volume, Night cdv. (Suppl. iv. 172); and in The Nights (proper), vol. vi. 246. Here I have quoted Lane (A.N. iii. 220), who has not offered a word of comment or of explanation concerning a somewhat difficult couplet.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Manjab, speaking to the woman, said, “O my lady, say me, dost thou know of their traces any tidings, and hast thou come upon any manifest news?” Said she, “This thing was to befal thee of old, O thou poor fellow, even as quoth the poet in the following couplets,
‘My tears flow fast, my heart knows no rest
And melts my soul and cares aye molest:
Would Heaven mine eyeballs their form beheld
And flies my life, and ah! who shall arrest?
’Tis wondrous the while shows my form to sight,
Fire burns my vitals with flamey crest!
Indeed for parting I’ve wept, and yet
No friend I find to mine aid addrest:
Ho thou the Moon in a moment gone
From sight, wilt thou rise to a glance so blest?
An thou be ‘stranged of estrangement who
Of men shall save me? Would God I wist!
Fate hath won the race in departing me
And who with Fate can avail contest?’”
“Then, O Commander of the Faithful, my longings grew and I poured fast tears in torrents and I was like to choke with my sobs, so I arose to walk about the city highways and I clung from wall to wall for what befel me of despight and affright at the disappearance of them,147 and as I wandered about I repeated these verses,
‘To man I’m humbled when my friends lost I
And missed the way of right where hardships lie:
Sorrow and sickness long have been my lot
To bear, when need was strong to justify:
Say me, shall any with their presence cheer —
Pity my soul? Then bless my friend who’s nigh!
I kiss your footprints for the love of you,
I greet your envoy e’en albeit he lie.’
After this, O Prince of True Believers, I remained immersed in cark and care and anxious thought, and as ever I wandered about behold, a man met me and said, “Tis now three days since they marched away and none wotteth where they have alighted.’148 So I returned once more to the mansion-door and I sat beside it to take my rest when my glance was raised and fell upon the lintel and I saw attached to it a folded paper which I hent in hand and found written therein these lines,
‘Scant shall avail with judgment just the tear
When at love-humbled heart man dareth jeer:
I was thy dearling, fain with thee to dwell
But thou transgressedst nor return canst speer:
And if by every means thou find me not,
From thee I fled and other hold I dear:
I come in dreams to see if sore thy heart;
Let it take patience in its woe sincere:
Thou dost beweep our union fled, but I
Wist that such weeping brings no profit clear:
Ho, stander at my door, once honoured guest,
Haply my tidings thou some day shalt hear.’
Thereupon, O Commander of the Faithful, I returned to my mother and sister and told them the tale of what had betided me, first and last, and the twain wept over me and my parent said, ‘I thought not, O my son, that such case as this would come down upon thee; withal every calamity save Death is no calamity at all; so be thou of long-suffering, O my child, for the compensation of patience is upon Allah; and indeed this that hath happened to thee hath happened unto many the likes of thee, and know thou that Fate is effectual and Sort is sealed. Hast thou not heard the words of the poet who spoke these couplets,149
‘The world aye whirleth with its sweet and sour
And Time aye trippeth with its joy and stowre:
Say him to whom life-change is wilful strange
Right wilful is the world and risks aye low’r:
See’st now how Ocean overwhelms his marge
And stores the pearl-drop in his deepest bow’r:
On Earth how many are of leafy trees,
But none we harvest save what fruit and flow’r:
See’st not the storm-winds blowing fierce and wild
Deign level nothing save the trees that tow’r?
In Heaven are stars and planets numberless
But none save Sun and Moon eclipse endure.
Thou judgest well the days when Time runs fair
Nor fearest trouble from Fate’s evil hour:
Thou wast deceived what time the Nights were fain,
But in the bliss o’ nights ‘ware days of bane.’
Now when I heard these words of my mother, O Prince of True Believers, and what she addressed to me of wise sayings and poetry, I took patience and rendered account to Allah;"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Manjab said, “O Commander of the Faithful, I had patience and rendered my account to Allah Almighty. Then my mother fell to nursing me, with medicines and unguents and what not else of remedies wherefrom cometh health until I was healed, yet there remained to me the scars even as thou sawest. But I inscribed not those lines upon my house which thou didst espy, O Commander of the Faithful, save that the news thereof might reach thee, and that naught be concealed from thee of my tidings and my past fate, and present condition. And this is the whole that hath befallen me.”150 Now when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid heard these words he smote hand upon hand and cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great.” Then he cried upon the Minister Ja’afar the Barmecide, and said to him, “O Wazir, unless thou bring me information of this affair and root out this matter and make manifest to me the condition of this youth, verily I will smite thy neck.” The Minister answered, “Hearing and obeying: however, do thou, O Commander of the Faithful, give me three days’ delay,” and the Caliph rejoined, “I have granted this to thee.” Hereupon Ja’afar went forth like unto one blind and deaf, unseeing nor hearing aught, and he was perplext and distraught as to his affair and continued saying, “Would Heaven we had not forgathered with this youth, nor ever had seen the sight of him.” And he ceased not faring till he arrived at his own house, where he changed his dress and fell to threading the thoroughfares of Baghdad, which in the time of Harun al-Rashid was a mighty great city, and in every street he entered he sought intelligence and questioned the folk concerning every affair which had happened in town from dawn to dark, but he hit upon no trace nor information manifest touching this matter. On the second day it was the same, and nothing became known to him between morning and evening; but on the third day as he fared forth he repeated these words,
“With the King be familiar and ‘ware his wrath
Nor be wilful when cometh his order ‘Do.’”
And he crossed and recrossed the city until it was noon-tide without aught of novelty appearing to him, so he returned to his mansion where he had a confidential nurse whom he apprised of the tidings, and concealing naught from her said, “Verily the term allowed to me by the King is until set of sun, at which time unless I bring him the information required he will cut off my head.” Thereupon the Kahramánah went forth and circled through the city until it was mid-afternoon, but she brought back no fresh tidings; whereat Ja’afar cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Now the Wazir had a sister who lived single in his home with her women and eunuchs, and he said to himself, “I will go to my sister Budur and solace myself by conversing awhile with her and farewell her: haply Fate is not afar.” This sister was yet unwedded for none dared come forward and propose marriage to her, albeit in the city of Baghdad not one was her peer in beauty, even amongst the women of the Caliph. Accordingly he turned towards her apartment and entered therein, when she met him upon the threshold of the gate, and as she saw him changed of condition she cried, “No harm to thee, O my brother, verily thou art altered in case;” and he replied, “Indeed I have fallen into evil plight and into a matter of affright, whereupon naught can deliver me save the power of Allah of All-might, and unless the affair be made evident to me by the morning the Caliph will cut off my head.” Then he related to her the affair from beginning to end, and she, when she heard the words of her brother, waxed wan of colour, and was altered in case and said, “O brother mine, give me immunity and a binding bond when I will explain to thee the matter of this youth.” Hereat calmed was his affright, and his heart was satisfied quite, and he gave her promise of safety and a binding bond and contract not to harm her; whereupon said she to him, “O my brother, womankind was created for mankind, and mankind was created for womankind, and albe falsehood is an excuse, yet soothfastness is more saving and safe-guiding. The whole of this business is mine and I am she who married him and made with him that condition which he accepted for himself, being contented with the covenant and its penalty.” Now when Ja’afar heard these words spoken to him by his sister concerning the case of Manjab, he outwardly made merry but he inwardly mourned, for that he had forbidden her to wed, and she had worked this craft and had given herself away to wife. Hereupon he arose without stay or delay and fared forth until he went in to the Caliph Harun al-Rashid whom he blessed and greeted, and the King, having returned his salam, asked him, “Hast thou brought to me the required tidings, O Ja’afar?” The Wazir answered, “Yes, O my lord, the news hath become manifest and ’tis certified to me that this is a private matter; and had not the Creator favoured me by forgathering with the young lady in her substance and accidence and had I not met her at a term not appointed, I should have been done to die.” Quoth the Caliph, “And who is she that I may requite her for her deeds and for what she hath practiced upon Manjab, who verily deserveth not that which hath betided him, although he may have been somewhat in fault.” Then Ja’afar came forward and craved pardon from the Caliph in token of honour for his sister’s sake, and quoth his lord, “O Ja’afar, thou hast declared that she it is with whom thou hast forgathered.” Quoth Ja’afar, “O Prince of True Believers, the same is my sister Budur.” But when the Caliph heard these words, he asked, “O Ja’afar, and why did thy sister do such deed?” and the Wazir answered, “Whatso is fated shall take place nor shall any defer the predestined nor forbid it when decreed, nor hasten it when forbidden. This thing which hath happened was of no profit to anyone and whatever thou shalt ordain that shall be done.” Thereat Manjab after saluting the Caliph, accompanied Ja’afar to the house of his sister, and when they went in the Wazir made peace between the two, and the Caliph largessed the youth with most sumptuous presents. Now the Caliph every year at times appointed was accustomed to go by night in disguise to the house of Manjab accompanied by Ja’afar for the sake of hearing music, and one night of the nights he said to the youth, “Alhamdolillah — Glory be to God — O Manjab, that I have caused reunion between thee and Budur, thy beloved; but I desire that thou tell me some tale which shall be rare and shall broaden my breast.” The youth replied, “Hearing and obeying,"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
150 The text inserts here, “Saith the Reciter of this adventure and right joyous history strange as rare,” etc.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King and Caliph, Harun al-Rashid, bade the youth Manjab tell him some tale of the Kings of old and he replied, “Hearkening and obedience, O Prince of True Believers;” and thereupon he fell recounting the
It is related (but Allah is All-knowing of hidden things and All-wise!) that in the days of a King called Dahmár151 there was a barber who had in his booth a boy for apprentice and one day of the days there came in a Darwaysh man who took seat and turning to the lad saw that he was a model of beauty and loveliness and stature and symmetric grace. So he asked him for a mirror and when it was brought he took it and considered his face therein and combed his beard, after which he put hand in pouch and pulling out an Ashrafi of gold set it upon the looking-glass which he gave back to the boy.152 Hereupon the barber turned towards the beggar and wondered in himself and said, “Praise be to Allah, albeit this man be a Fakir yet he placeth a golden piece upon the mirror, and surely this is a marvellous matter.” Hereupon the Darwaysh went his ways, and on the following day he suddenly made his appearance and entering the booth called for a looking-glass from the barber’s prentice and when it was handed to him combed his beard after he had looked at his features therein; then, bringing forth an Ashrafi, he set it upon the mirror and gave it back to the boy; and the barber marvelled yet the more to see the Fakir rising up and wending his ways.153 The beggar ceased not coming every day and gazing at himself in the glass and laying down his ducat, whereat the barber said to himself, “By Allah, indeed this Darwaysh must have some object of his own and haply he is in love with the lad my prentice and I fear from the beggar lest he seduce the boy and take him away from me.” Hereat he cried, “O boy, when the Darwaysh shall come to thee draw thou not anear him; and when he demandeth the looking-glass give it not to him; for I myself will do so.” On the third day behold, the Fakir appeared according to his custom and asked for the mirror from the boy who wittingly disregarded him, whereupon he turned towards him and waxed wroth154 and was like to slay him. The apprentice was terrified at his rage and gave him the looking-glass whilst he was still an-angered; but when the man had reviewed himself therein and had combed his beard and had finished his need, he brought out ten dinars of gold and setting them upon the mirror handed them to the lad. Seeing this the barber wondered anew with extreme wonderment, saying to himself, “By Allah, this Darwaysh cometh daily and layeth down an Ashrafi, but this day he hath given ten gold pieces; withal there accrueth not to me from my shop even half a piastre of daily wage. However, O Boy, when the man shall come hither, as is his wont, do thou spread for him a prayer-rug in the inner room of the shop, lest the people seeing his constant visits should have ill suspicions of us.” “Yes!” said the lad. So when it was the next day the Fakir came and went into the ben whither he was shown by the boy, and he followed him till they were in the innermost of the booth. Now the heart of this Religious hung to the love of the barber’s boy for that he had of beauty and perfection and he continued frequenting the shop every day whilst the lad ceased not spreading the rug and receiving upon the mirror ten Ashrafis. Hereat the barber and his apprentice rejoiced till one day of the days when the Darwaysh came to the shaving-shop, as was his wont, where he met none but only the boy nor was there any other in sight. So he asked concerning his employer and the other answered, “O uncle, my master hath gone forth to solace himself with seeing the casting of the cannon; for this day the Sultan and the Wazir and the Lords of the land will all be present thereat.” Said he, “O my son, go thou with us and we will also enjoy the spectacle and return before the rest of the folk, ere thy master can be back, and we will enjoy ourselves and make merry and look at the sport before I set out upon my journey, for ’tis my intention this day to go forth about noontide.” Quoth the lad, “’Tis well O uncle;” and arising he locked the shop-door and walked with the Darwaysh till they reached the spot where the cannon were being cast. There they found the Sultan and the Wazirs and the Chamberlains and the Lords of the land and the Grandees of the realm all standing in a body until presently the workmen took the crucibles155 from off the ore. Now the first who went up to them was the Sultan and he found them full of molten brass: so he put his hand into his pocket and drew it forth full of gold which he cast into the melting pots. Then the Grand Wazir walked forward and did as the King had done and all the Notables who were present threw cash into the crucibles, bar-silver and piastres and dollars. Thereat the Darwaysh stepped out of the crowd and brought from his cowl a reed used as an étui156 wherefrom he drew a spoon-like ear-picker and cast into one of the crucibles a something of powder like grain.157 This he did to each one of the melting pots; after which he disappeared from the eyes of the folk and taking the boy with him returned to the booth and opened it and said to him, “O my child, when the Sultan shall send after thee and shall question thee concerning me, do thou tell him that I am in such a town where shouldst thou come to seek me thou shalt find me sitting beside the gate.” Then he farewelled the boy, the barber’s apprentice, and set forth seeking that city. Such was the case with these twain; but as regards the matter of the King, he ceased not standing there until they had brought the crucibles to the cannon-moulds and when the folks designed to pour out their contents they found all therein pure gold. Then quoth the Sultan to the Wazir and the Notables of his realm, “Who was it threw aught into the crucibles and what stranger man happened to be here?” Quoth they, “We beheld a Darwaysh man who took some powder and fell to casting thereof a somewhat into the crucibles.” Hereupon enquiries were made of the bystanders and they gave information how that same Darwaysh was inclined to the barber’s apprentice who lived in such a quarter. Hereupon the Sultan ordered one of his Chamberlains to bring the boy — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
151 Scott, in the “Story of the Sultan, the Dirveshe, and the Barber’s son” (vi. 348), calls the King “Rammaud.” The tale is magical and Rosicrucian, laid somewhat upon the lines of “The Physician Dúbán”; i.45.
152 This is the custom among Eastern Moslems: the barber, after his operations are over, presents his hand-mirror for the patient to see whether all be satisfactory, saying at the same time “Na’íman”=may it be pleasurable to thee! The customer answers “Allah bring thee pleasure,” places the fee upon the looking-glass and returns it to the shaver. For “Na’íman” see vol. ii. 5.
153 The least that honest Figaro expected to witness was an attempt upon the boy’s chastity.
154 In text “Tazaghzagha,” gen.=he spoke hesitatingly, he scoffed. [I read the words in the text: “Tazaghghara fíhi.” The Kámús gives “Zaghara-hu”=he seized it by force, he took hold of him with violence, and this present fifth form, although not given in the Dictionaries, has doubtlessly the same meaning. Popularly we may render it: he pitched into him. — ST]
155 In the text “Kazánát” (plur. of “Kázán”), afterwards written “Kázát” (a clerical error?). They are opposed to the “Kawálib”=moulds. [See note to p. 17. — ST.]
156 “Akhraja min Kuláhi-hi (Kulah?) búsah.”
157 “Akhaza min-há ‘ala ma’ lakati ‘l-Hilál shay misl al-Jinnah.” [I have no doubt that “Kuláh” is meant for “Kuláh,” a Dervish’s cap. “Búsah” puzzles me. I am inclined to take it for a reed used as a case or sheath, as we shall see p. 263 of the MS. Prince Yúsuf uses a “Kasabah” or reed to enclose a letter in it. “Mi’lakat (popular corruption for ‘Mil’akat’) al-Hilál” may be the spoon or hollow part of an ear-picker, Hilál being given by Bocthor as equivalent for “cure-oreille.” Lastly for “al-Jinnah” I would read “al-Habbah”=grain. The article before the word may indicate that a particular grain is meant perhaps “al-Habbat al-halwah”=anise seed, or that it stands for “al-Hubbah,” according to Lemprière (A Tour to Marocco, London 1791, p. 383) a powder employed by the ladies of Marocco to produce embonpoint. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan sent one of his Chamberlains to the boy, the apprentice of the barber, whom they sought for and brought into the presence and placed between the royal hands; and he on entering kissed ground and deprecated and prayed for his liege lord with prayers fit for the Caliphs. The Sovran returned his salam and questioned him concerning the Darwaysh who had been with him and he replied, “O King of the Realm, he charged me saying that he was faring for and would be found in such a city.” Hereupon the Sultan commanded the lad go forth and bring him, and was answered, “Hearkening and obedience;” so he appointed for him an especial ship and gifted him with various presents and the boy set sail and voyaged for a short while till he reached the port-town in question. Here he landed and made for the city-gate and as he entered it behold, he came face to face with the Darwaysh who was sitting upon a raised bench, and when he beheld him he salam’d to him and told him what had taken place. The Fakir at once arose, and without resisting the lad, went down to the ship and they shook out the sails and the two voyaged together until they reached the city of the Sultan. Here the twain went in to him and kissed ground between his hands and salam’d to him and their greeting was answered. Now as to the lad, the King largessed him largely and raised his degree to Governor and despatched him to one of his provinces therein to rule;158 but as for the Darwaysh, he remained beside King Dahmar the first day and the second until the seventh; after which quoth the Sovran, “’Tis my desire that thou teach me the art and mystery of making gold;” whereto the other replied, “Hearing and obeying, O our lord the Sultan.” Presently the Darwaysh arose; and, bringing a brazier,159 ranged thereupon the implements of his industry and lighted a fire thereunder; then, fetching a portion of lead and a modicum of tin and a quant. suff. of copper, the whole weighing about a quintal, he fanned the flame that was beneath the crucible until the metal was fluid as water. And while the Sultan was sitting and looking on and considering the operation, the Fakir brought out something from a casket and taking a pinch of it on the ear-picker besprinkled therewith the lead and copper and the tin which presently became virgin gold. He repeated this feat once or twice before the King who after that fell to working as the Religious had wrought and turned out in his presence the purest gold. So the Sultan rejoiced and was wont to sit before the Darwaysh whatever time his heart chose160 and there and then he gathered together ignoble metals and besprinkled them with the powder161 which had been given to him by the Fakir and all came out of the noblest gold. Now one night of the nights, as the Sultan was sitting in his Harem and would have worked as he had wrought in the presence of the Darwaysh, nothing went right with him; whereat he was exceedingly sorrowful and said, “I have neither magnified nor minished aught, so how is this case?”162 As soon as it was morning he forgathered with the Fakir and worked in his presence and produced virgin gold; so in his surprise he said, “Walláhi, ’tis indeed most marvellous that whatso I work alone cometh not right and when I have wrought in presence of the Darwaysh it succeedeth and turneth to gold.” After this the Sultan never transmuted metals save in the presence of the Fakir, until one day of the days when his breast was narrowed and he sought recreation in the gardens. Accordingly he rode forth, he and the Lords of the land, taking also the Darwaysh with him and he went to the riverside, the Monarch preceding and the Mendicant following together with the suite. And as the King rode along with a heavy hand upon the reins he grasped them strongly and his fist closed upon them; but suddenly he relaxed his grip when his seal-ring flew from his little finger and fell into the water, where it sank to the bottom. Seeing this the Sultan drew bridle and halted and said, “We will on no wise remove from this place till such time as my seal-ring shall be restored to me.” So the suite dismounted, one and all, and designed plunging into the stream, when behold, the Fakir finding the King standing alone and in woeful plight by cause of his signet asked him saying, “What is to do with thee, O King of the Age, that I find thee here halted?” He replied, “Verily my signet-ring of Kingship163 hath dropped from me into the river somewhere about this place.” Quoth the Darwaysh, “Be not grieved, O our lord;” after which he brought out from his breast pocket a pencase, and having drawn from it a bit of bees’ wax, he fashioned it into the form of a man and cast it into the water. Then he stood gazing thereat when, lo and behold! the Figure came forth the river with the seal-ring hanging to its neck and sprang upon the saddle-bow in front of the Sultan. The King would have taken his signet when the Form jumped off and approached the Darwaysh who hent the ring in hand and rubbed it and the Figure at once became wax as it had been. Hereupon the Darwaysh restored it to his pencase and said to the Sovran, “Now do thou ride on!” All this and the Lords of the land sat gazing upon the Darwaysh and what he had done; after which the whole party fared forwards till they reached the gardens, where they dismounted and took seat and fell to conversing together. They enjoyed themselves that day and when evening fell they remounted and sought their homes, and the Darwaysh returned to the apartment which had been set apart for him. But presently the Grandees of the realm forgathered with the Sultan and said to him, “O King of the Age, yon Darwaysh requireth of thee exceeding caution seeing that he, whenso he ever will, availeth to slay everyone in the Palace, and after doing thee die can raise himself to rule in thy stead.” “How so?” quoth the King, and quoth they, “In that ’twere easy for him to make Figures of wax and cause them prevail over thee and over us, so that they may kill us and he may succeed thee as Sultan; nor would this be aught of inconvenience to him.” Now when the King heard these words he was afeared and cried, “By Allah, sooth ye speak, and this is the right rede and one which may not be blamed indeed!” presently adding, “And how shall we manage with this Darwaysh?” Said they, “Do thou send for him and summon him and slay him forthright; and better ’twere that thou kill him ere he kill thee;164 and if he say thee ‘I will go and return,’ suffer him not depart.” The Sultan acted after their counsel and sending to fetch the Fakir — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
158 So even in our day Mustafá bin Ism’aíl who succeeded “General Khayru ‘l-Dín” as Prime Minister to “His Highness Mohammed al-Sádik, Bey of Tunis,” began life as apprentice to a barber, became the varlet of an officer, rose to high dignity and received decorations from most of the European powers.
159 In text “Wiják,” a stove, a portable hearth.
160 In the text: [“Wa sára kulla-má tastarí nafsuhu yak’ad kuddáma ‘l-Darwish,” which I would translate: and each time his heart chose (8th form of “Sarw”) he used to sit before the Darwaysh, etc. — ST.]
161 In text “Darín” for “Zarín”=what is powdered, collyrium.
162 The King failed because his “Niyat” or intention was not pure; that is, he worked for wealth, and not, as the Darwaysh had done, for the good of his brother man.
163 For the importance attached to this sign of sovereignty see in my Pilgrimage (ii. 218-19) the trouble caused by the loss of the Prophet’s seal-ring (Khátim) at Al-Madinah.
164 The text is somewhat doubtful —“Min kuddám-ak.” [Perhaps it means only “from before thee,” i.e. in thy presence, without letting him out of sight and thereby giving him a chance of escape. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan sent after the Darwaysh and bade him be brought into the presence and set between his hands, when he said to him, “O Darwaysh, do thou know ’tis mine aim and intention to slay thee: say me then, hast thou any charge thou wouldst send to thy family?” Quoth the Religious, “Wherefore shouldst thou kill me, O our lord, and what of ill deeds hath proceeded from me that thou shouldst destroy me therefor, and do thou make me aware of my sin, and then if I merit death kill me or decree to me banishment.” Quoth the King, “There is no help but that I slay thee,”165 and the Darwaysh fell to gentling him but it availed him naught; so as soon as he was certified that the Sultan would not release him or dismiss him, he arose and drew a wide ring upon the ground in noose shape and measuring some fifteen ells, within which he described a lesser circle. Then he stood up before the Sovran and said, “O King of the Age, verily this greater circle is the dominion belonging to thee, whilst the lesser round is mine own realm.” So saying he moved from his place and stepped forwards and passing into the smaller ring quoth he, “An thy reign, O King of the Age, be not ample for me I will inhabit my own;” and forthright upon entering the lesser circle he vanished from the view of those present. Cried the Sultan to the Lords of the land, “Seize him”; but they availed not to find him, and after going forth in search they returned and reported that they could light upon no one. Then said the Sovran, “He was beside me in this place and passed into the smaller ring; so do ye seek for him again;” and accordingly they went forth once more but could not see a trace of him. Hereupon the Sultan repented and cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great: verily we have exceeded in the matter of this Darwaysh and we have hearkened to the words of hypocrites who caused us to fall into trouble by obeying them in all they said to me against him. However, whatso they did to me that will I do unto them.” And as soon as it was morning-tide and the Lords of the land forgathered in the Divan, the Sultan commanded to slay those who had counselled him to kill the Darwaysh, and some of them were done to death and others of them were banished the country.166 Now when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid heard this narrative from Manjab, he wondered with extreme wonderment and said to him, “By Allah, O Manjab, thou deservest to be a cup-companion of the Kings:” so he created him from that moment his Equerry in honour to the Grand Wazir Ja’afar the Barmaki, whereof he had become brother-in-law. Now after some time Al-Rashid asked from Manjab a tale concerning the wiles of womankind, and when the youth hung his head groundwards and blushed before him, Harun said to him, “O Manjab, verily the place of the Kings in privacy is also the place for laying aside gravity.” Said Manjab, “O Prince of True Believers, to-morrow night (Inshallah!) I will tell thee a tale in brief concerning the freaks of the gender feminine, and what things they do with their mates.” Accordingly when night came on, the Caliph sent for and summoned Manjab to the presence, and when he came there he kissed ground and said, “An it be thy will, O Commander of the Faithful, that I relate thee aught concerning the wiles of wives, let it be in a private place lest haply one of the slave-girls hear me and any of them report my tale to the Queen.” Quoth Rashid, “This is the right rede which may not be blamed indeed!” So he went with him to a private place concealed from the folk, and took seat, he and the youth, and none beside, when Manjab related to him the following
165 This especially is on the lines of “The Physician Dúbán”; vol. i. 45.
166 In text “Wa min-hum man fáha,” evidently an error of the scribe for “Man nafáhu.” Scott (vi. 351), after the fashion of the “Improver-school,” ends the tale, which is somewhat tail-less, after this fashion, “At the same instant, the Sultan and his courtiers found themselves assaulted by invisible agents, who, tearing off their robes, whipped them with scourges till the blood flowed in streams from their lacerated backs. At length the punishment ceased, but the mortification of the Sultan did not end here, for all the gold which the Dirveshe had transmuted returned to its original metals. Thus, by his unjust credulity, was a weak Prince punished for his ungrateful folly. The barber and his son also were not to be found, so that the sultan could gain no intelligence of the Dirveshe, and he and his courtiers became the laughing-stock of the populace for years after their merited chastisement.” Is nothing to be left for the reader’s imagination?
It is related that there was a Badawi man who had a wife and he dwelt under a tent of hair168 in the desert where, as is the fashion of Arabs, he used to shift from site to site for the purpose of pasturing his camels. Now the woman was of exceeding beauty and comeliness and perfection, and she had a friend (also a Badawi man) who at all times would come to her and have his wicked will of her, after which he would wend his ways. But one day of the days her lover visited her and said, “Wallahi, ’tis not possible but that what time we sleep together, I and thou, we make merry with thy husband looking on."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
167 See under the same name the story in my Suppl. vol. i. 162; where the genealogy and biography of the story is given. I have translated the W.M. version because it adds a few items of interest. A marginal note of Scott’s (in the W.M. MS. v. 196) says that the “Tale is similar to Lesson iv. in the Tirrea Bede.” See note at the end of this History.
168 For the Badawí tent, see vol. vii. 109.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the man which was the friend of the Badawi’s wife said to her, “Walláhi, ’tis not possible but that when we make merry, I and thou, thy husband shall look upon us.” Quoth she, “Why should we suffer at such time of our enjoyment either my husband or any wight to be present?” and quoth he, “This must needs be, and unless thou consent I will take to me a mistress other than thyself.” Then said she, “How shall we enjoy ourselves with my husband looking on? This is a matter which may not be managed.” Hereupon the woman sat down and took thought of her affair and how she should do for an hour or so, and presently she arose and dug her amiddlemost the tent a hole169 which would contain a man, wherein she concealed her lover. Now, hard by the tent was a tall sycamore tree,170 and as the noodle her husband was returning from the wild the woman said to him, “Ho thou, Such-an-one! climb up this tree and bring me therefrom a somewhat of figs that we may eat them.” Said he, “’Tis well;” and arising he swarmed up the tree-trunk, when she signed to her lover who came out and mounted and fell to riding upon her. But her mate considered her and cried aloud, “What is this, O whore: doth a man cavalcade thee before me and the while I am looking at thee?” Then he came down from the tree in haste, but he saw no one, for as soon as the lover had finished his business the good-wife thrust him into the hole amiddlemost the tent and covered him with a mat. When the husband went inside to the booth and met his wife he found no stranger with her so said she to him, “O man, thou hast sinned against me, saying, ‘Verily, some one is riding thee’; and thou hast slandered me by falsely charging me with folly.” Quoth he, “By Allah I saw thee with my own eyes;” but quoth she, “Do thou sit here the while I have a look.” Hereupon she arose and swarmed up the trunk and sat upon one of the branches, and as she peered at her spouse she shrieked aloud crying, “O man, do thou have some regard for thine honour. Why do on this wise and lie down and allow a man to ride thee, and at this moment he worketh his will on thee.” Said her husband, “Beside me there is neither man nor boy.” And said she, “Here I am171 looking at thee from the top of this tree.” Quoth he, “O woman, this place must be haunted,172 so let us remove hence;” and quoth she, “Why change our place? rather let us remain therein.” Hereupon the Caliph said to Manjab, “By Allah, verily, this woman was an adulteress;” and the youth replied, “Amongst womankind indeed are many more whorish than this. But of that anon; and now do thou hear from me and learn of me this marvellous tale anent
169 In text “Birkah”=a fountain-basin, lake, pond, reservoir. The Bresl. Edit. has “Sardáb”=a souterrain.
170 Arab. “Jummayz”: see vol. iii. 302. In the Bresl. Edit. it is a “tall tree,” and in the European versions always a “pear-tree,” which is not found in Badawi-land.
171 “Adí” in Egyptian (not Arabic) is=that man, the (man) here; “Adíní” (in the text) is=Here am I, me voici. Spitta Bey (loc. cit. iv. 20, etc.)
172 Arab. “Ma’múrah.” In the Bresl. Edit. “the place is full of Jinns and Marids.” I have said that this supernatural agency, ever at hand and ever credible to Easterns, makes this the most satisfactory version of the world-wide tale.
Scott refers to a tale in the “Bahar-Danush” (Bahár-i-Dánish); or, “Garden of Knowledge,” translated by himself, story viii. lesson 4; chapter xii. vol. iii. pp. 64-68. Cadell & Co., Strand, London, 1799. Five women come from a town to draw water at a well; and, finding there a young Brahmin, become his teachers and undertake to instruct him in the “Tirrea” or fifth “Veda”— there being only four of these Hindu Scriptures. Each lesson consists of an adventure showing how to cornute a husband, and the fourth runs as follows. I leave them in Scott’s language:—
The fourth lady through dread of the arrow of whose cunning the warrior of the fifth heaven173 trembled in the sky, like the reed, having bestowed her attention on the pilgrim bramin (Brahman), despatched him to an orchard; and having gone home, said to her husband, “I have heard that in the orchard of a certain husbandman there is a date tree, the fruit of which is of remarkably fine flavour; but what is yet stranger, whoever ascends it, sees many wonderful objects. If to-day, going to visit this orchard, we gather dates from this tree, and also see the wonders of it, it will not be unproductive of amusement.” In short, she so worked upon her husband with flattering speeches and caresses, that nolens volens he went to the orchard, and at the instigation of his wife, ascended the tree. At this instant she beckoned to the bramin, who was previously seated, expectantly, in a corner of the garden.
The husband, from the top of the tree, beholding what was not fit to be seen, exclaimed in extreme rage, “Ah! thou shameless Russian-born174 wretch, what abominable action is this?” The wife making not the least answer, the flames of anger seized the mind of the man, and he began to descend from the tree; when the bramin with activity and speed having hurried over the fourth section of the Tirrea Bede,175 went his way.
The road to repose is that of activity and quickness.
The wife during her husband’s descent from the tree having arranged her plan, said, “Surely, man, frenzy must have deprived thy brain of the fumes of sense, that having foolishly set up such a cry, and not reflecting upon thine own disgrace (for here, excepting thyself, what male is present?), thou wouldst fix upon me the charge of infidelity?” The husband, when he saw no person near, was astonished, and said to himself, “Certainly, this vision must have been miraculous.”
The completely artful wife, from the hesitation of her husband, guessed the cause, and impudently began to abuse him. Then instantly tying her vest round her waist she ascended the tree. When she had reached the topmost branch, she suddenly cried out, “O thou shameless man, what abominable action is this! If thy evil star hath led thee from the path of virtue, surely thou mightest have in secret ventured upon it. Doubtless to pull down the curtain of modesty from thy eyes, and with such impudence to commit such a wicked deed, is the very extreme of debauchery.”
The husband replied, “Woman, do not ridiculously cry out, but be silent; for such is the property of this tree, that whoever ascends it, sees man or woman below in such situations.” The cunning wife now came down, and said to her husband, “What a charming garden and amusing spot is this! where one can gather fruit, and at the same time behold the wonders of the world.” The husband replied, “Destruction seize the wonders which falsely accuse man of abomination!” In short the devilish wife, notwithstanding the impudence of such an action, escaped safely to her house, and the next day, according to custom, attending at the well, introduced the bramin to the ladies, and informed them of her worthy contrivance.176
173 The planet Mars.
174 The Asiatics have a very contemptible opinion of the Russians, especially of the females, whom they believe to be void of common modesty. Our early European voyagers have expressed the same idea. — Scott.
175 i.e. having enjoyed the woman. — R.F.B.
176 The reader will doubtless recollect the resemblance which the plot of this lesson bears to Pope’s January and May, and to one of Fontaine’s Tales. Eenaiut Olla acknowledges his having borrowed it from the Brahmins, from whom it may have travelled through some voyage to Europe many centuries past, or probably having been translated in Arabic or Persian, been brought by some crusader, as were many Asiatic romances, which have served as the groundwork of many of our old stories and poems. — Scott.
I had a familiar in the Northern region who was called ‘Adb al-Jawád and he was one of the greatest of merchants there and made of money; also he loved voyage and travel, and at whatever time I visited him and we forgathered, I and he, we exchanged citations of poetry. Now one day my heart yearned to visit him, so I repaired to his place and found him there; and as we came together we both sat down in friendly converse, I and he; and he said to me “O my brother, do thou hear what happened and was accomplished for me in these times. I travelled to the land of Al-Yaman and therein met a familiar who, when we sat down to talk, I and he, said, ‘O my brother, verily there befel me and betided me in the land of Al-Hind a case that was strange and an adventure that was admirable and it ran as follows. There was erewhile a King of the kings of India and one of her greatest, who was abundant in money and troops and guards and he was called Al-Mihrján.178 This same was a lord of high degree and a majestic and he had lived for a long while of his age without having issue male or female. Wherefor he was full of cark and care wanting one who after him would preserve his memory, so he said in his mind one night of the nights, ‘Whenas I die cut off shall be my name, and effaced shall be my fame nor shall anyone remember me.’ So saying he raised both hands to Heaven and humbled himself before Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) to vouchsafe him a child who should outlive him with the view that man might not lose the memory of him. Now one night as he was sleeping a-bed dreaming and drowned in slumber behold, he heard a Voice (without seeing any form) which said to him, ‘O Mihrjan the Sage, and O King of the Age, arouse thee this moment and go to thy wife and lie with her and know her carnally, for she shall indeed conceive of thee at this very hour and bear thee a child which, an it be a boy shall become thine aider in all thine affairs but will, an it prove a girl, cause thy ruin and thy destruction and the uprooting of thy traces.’ When Al-Mihrjan heard from the Speaker these words and such sayings, he left his couch without stay or delay in great joy and gladness and he went to his wife and slept with her and swived her and as soon as he arose from off her she said, ‘O King of the Age, verily I feel that I have become pregnant; and (Inshallah — if Almighty Allah please!) this shall prove the case.’179 When Al-Mihrjan heard the words of his wife he was glad and rejoiced at good news and he caused that night be documented in the archives of his kingdom. Then, when it was morning he took seat upon the throne of his kingship and summoned the Astrologers and the Scribes of characts and Students of the skies and told them what had been accomplished to him in his night and what words he had heard from the Voice; whereupon the Sages one and all struck tables of sand and considered the ascendant. But each and every of them concealed his thought and hid all he had seen nor would any return a reply or aught of address would supply; and said they, ‘O King of the Age, verily appearances in dreams hit the mark at times and at times fly wide; for when a man is of a melancholic humour he seeth in his sleep things which be terrible and horrible and he waxeth startled thereat: haply this vision thou hast beheld may be of the imbroglios of dreams so do thou commit the reins to Him who all overreigns and the best Worker is He of all that wisheth and willeth He.’ Now when Al-Mihrjan heard these words of the Sages and the Star-gazers he gifted and largessed them and he freed the captives in prison mewed and he clothed the widows and the poor and nude. But his heart remained in sore doubt concerning what he had heard from the Voice and he was thoughtful over that matter and bewildered and he knew not what to do; and on such wise sped those days. Now, however, returneth the tale to the Queen his Consort who, when her months had gone by, proved truly to be pregnant and her condition showed itself, so she sent to inform her husband thereof. He was gladdened and rejoiced in the good news and when the months of gestation were completed the labour-pains set in and she was delivered of a girl-child (praise be to Him who had created and had perfected what He had produced in this creation!), which was winsome of face and lovesome of form and fair fashioned of limbs, with cheeks rosaceous and eyne gracious and eyebrows continuous and perfect in symmetrical proportion. Now after the midwives delivered her from the womb and cut her navel-string and kohl’d her eyes, they sent for King Al-Mihrjan and informed him that his Queen had borne a maid- babe, but when the Eunuchs gave this message, his breast was narrowed and he was bewildered in his wits, and rising without stay or delay he went to his wife. Here they brought to him the new-born when he uncovered her face and, noting her piquancy and elegancy and beauty and brilliancy and size and symmetry, his vitals fluttered and he was seized with yearning sorrow for her fate; and he named her Al-Hayfá180 for her seemlihead. Then he gifted the midwife’"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
177 In Scott (vi. 352) “Adventures of Aleefa and Eusuff.” This long and somewhat longsome history is by another pen, which is distinguished from the ordinary text by constant attempts at fine writing, patches of Saj’a or prose-rhyme and profuse poetry, mostly doggerel. I recommend it to the student as typically Arabian with its preponderance of verse over prose, its threadbare patches made to look meaner by the purpureus pannus; its immoderate repetition and its utter disregard of order and sequence. For the rest it is unedited and it strikes me as a sketch of adventure calculated to charm the Fellah-audience of a coffee-house, whose delight would be brightened by the normal accompaniment of a tambourine or a Rabábah, the one-stringed viol.
178 This P. N. has occurred in vol. vi. 8, where I have warned readers that it must not be confounded with the title “Maháráj”=Great Rajah. Scott (vi. 352) writes “Mherejaun,” and Gauttier (vi. 380) “Myr-djyhan” (Mír Jahán=Lord Life).
179 I need not inform the civilised reader that this “feeling conception” is unknown except in tales.
180 i.e. “The Slim-waisted.” Scott (vi. 352) persistently corrupts the name to “Aleefa,” and Gauttier (vi. 380) follows suit with “Alifa.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that King Al-Mihrjan largessed a robe of honour to the midwife and gifted her with a thousand gold pieces and went forth from beside his daughter. Then they committed her to wetnurses and drynurses and governesses who reared her with the fairest rearing, and after she had reached the age of four they brought to her divines who lessoned her in the art of writing and of making selections181 and presently she approved herself sharp of wits, clever, loquent of tongue, eloquent of speech, sweet spoken of phrase; and every day she increased in beauty and loveliness and stature and perfect grace. And when she reached the age of fourteen she was well read in science and she had perused the annals of the past and she had mastered astrology and geomancy and she wrote with caligraphic pen all the seven handwritings and she was mistress of metres and modes of poetry and still she grew in grace of speech. Now as her age reached her fourteenth year her sire the Sultan chose for her a palace and settled her therein and placed about her slave-girls, high-bosomed virgins numbering an hundred, and each and every famous for beauty and loveliness; and presently she selected of them a score who were all maidenhoods, illustrious for comeliness and seemliness. These she taught in verse and poetry and in the strangenesses of history and in striking instruments of mirth and merriment until they surpassed all the folk of their day; and she assiduously enjoined upon them the drinking of wine pure and new and boon-companionship with choice histories and strange tales and the rare events of the time. Such was the case with Al-Hayfa; but as regards her father, King Al-Mihrjan, as one night he was lying abed pondering what he had heard from the Voice, suddenly there addressed him a sound without a form and said, “O King of the Age,” whereat he was fully aroused by sore terror and his vitals fluttered and his wits were bewildered and he was perplexed as to his affair. So he took refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned and repeated somewhat of the Koran and fenced himself about with certain of the holy names of Allah the Munificent; then he would have returned to his couch but was unable even to place cheek on pillow. Presently sounded the Voice a second time, saying, “O King of the Age, O Mihrjan, verily shalt thou die by reason of her;” and forthwith improvised the following couplets,
“Ho thou! Hear, O Mihrjan, what to thee shall be said
Learn the drift of my words in these lines convey’d:
Thy daughter, Al-Hayfa (the girded round
With good, and with highest of grade array’d)
Shall bring with right hand to thee ruin-bowl
And reave thee of realm with the sharp-biting blade.”182
Now when Al-Mihrjan had heard what the Voice had spoken of verse and had produced for him of prose, he was wholly aroused from his sleep and became like one drunken with wine who knew not what he did and his vitals fluttered and increased his cark and care and anxious thought. So he removed from that site into another stead and was stirred up and went awandering about. Then he set his head upon the pillow but was unable to close his eyelids and the Voice drew nearer and cried upon him in frightful accents and said, “O Mihrjan, dost thou not hearken to my words and understand my verse; to wit, that thy daughter Al-Hayfa shall bequeath to thee shame and thou shalt perish by cause of her?” Then the Unseen One recited these couplets,183
“I see thee, O Mihrjan, careless-vain
who from hearing the words of the wise dost abstain:
I see Al-Hayfa, by potent lord
Upraised in her charms and speech sweet of strain,
Who shall home thee in grave sans a doubt and she
Shall seize thy king- ship and reave thy reign.”
But when Al-Mihrjan had heard the words of the Voice and what it had urged upon him of poetry and of prose-addresses, he arose from his rest in haste and anxiety until Allah caused the morn to morrow and break in its sheen and it shone, whereupon the King summoned the Mathematicians and the Interpreters of dreams and the Commentators on the Koran; and, when they came between his hands, he related to them his vision, fully and formally, and they practised their several arts, making all apparent to them; but they concealed the truth and would not reveal it, saying to him, “Indeed the consequence of thy vision is auspicious."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting an of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Astrologers said to King Al-Mihrjan, “Verily the consequence of thy vision is auspicious;” and on the second night Iblis the Accursed appeared to him under the bodily form of a handsome man and said, “Ho thou the King, I am he who terrified thee yesternight in thy dream, for the reason that thou hast ruined the Monastery of the Archers184 wherein I lay homed. However an thou wilt edify it again I will favour thee with my counsel, ho thou the King!” Al-Mihrjan replied, “Upon me be its rebuilding an thou wilt honour me with thy advice, ho thou the Voice!” Hereupon Iblis fell to lying with him and saying, “Verily I am thine aider in building thee a palace by the river Al-Kawá‘ib,185 O thou will of me and desire of me!” (Now the folk heard these words spoken aloud.) Then Al-Mihrjan arose from his sleep joyful and cheerful and when morning came he summoned the Mathematicians and Architects and Masons and bade them rebuild the Monastery of the Archers; so they obeyed his bidding until they had completed it in the handsomest fashion and with the best of workmanship. After that the King ordered they construct for his daughter Al-Hayfa a palace unsurpassed by any edifice and perfectly builded and decorated, hard by the river Al-Kawa’ib; moreover that it should be situate in a wady, a hill-girt plain through which meandered the stream. So they obeyed his bidding and laid its foundations and marked with large stones the lines thereof which measured a parasang of length by a parasang of breadth. Then they showed their design to the King, who gathering together his army returned with them to the city. Presently the Architects and Master-masons fell to building it square of corners and towering in air over the height of an hundred ells and an ell; and amiddlemost thereof stood a quadrangular hall with four-fold saloons, one fronting other, whilst in each was set apart a cabinet for private converse. At the head of every saloon a latticed window projected over the garden whereof the description shall follow in its place; and they paved the ground with vari-coloured marbles and alabastrine slabs which were dubbed with bezel stones and onyx186 of Al-Yaman. The ceilings were inlaid with choice gems and lapis lazuli and precious metals: the walls were coated with white stucco painted over with ceruse187 and the frieze was covered with silver and gold and ultramarine and costly minerals. Then they set up for the latticed windows colonnettes of gold and silver and noble ores, and the doors of the sitting chamber were made of chaunders-wood alternating with ebony which they studded with jewels and arabesque’d with gold and silver. Also they placed in each sitting-room a pillar of Comorin lign-aloes and the best of sandal-wood encrusted with gems; and over the speak-room they threw cupolas supported upon arches and connecting columns and lighted in the upper part by skylights of crystal and carnelian and onyx. And at the head of each saloon was a couch of juniper-wood whose four legs were of elephants’ ivories studded with rubies and over each was let down a hanging188 of golden weft and a network of gems, whilst higher than the whole was a latticed casement adorned with pearls which were threaded upon golden wire and curtains bearing scented satchels of ambergris. The furniture of the divans was of raw silk stuffed with ostrich- down and the cushions were purfled with gold. The floors of all the saloons were spread with carpets and rugs embroidered with sendal, and in the heart of the Great Hall amiddlemost the four saloons rose a marble jet-d’eau, square of shape, whose corners were cunningly wrought and whose floor and marge were set with gems of every hue. They also placed upon the edges of that fountain figures fashioned of gold and silver representing all manner birds and beasts, each modelled according to his several tint and peculiar form; their bellies too were hollow and from the fountain was conducted a conduit which led the water into their insides and caused it gush from their mouths so that they jetted one at other like two hosts about to do battle. After this the same water returned to the middle of the fountain and thence flowed into the gardens, of which a description will follow in its place.189 Also the walls of the Great Hall were variegated with wondrous pictures in gold and lapis lazuli and precious materials of every kind, and over the doors of the sitting-places they hung candelabra of crystal with chains of gold wherein were set jewels and jacinths and the costliest stones; after which they inscribed upon the entrance of the speak-rooms couplets to the following purport,
“Clear and clean is our seance from slanderous foe;
And from envious rival whose aim is blame:
None hither may come save the cup-boy, and eke
Cup-comrades who never our fame defame.”
Upon the chandeliers themselves were inscribed these lines,
“I am raised in reverence high o’er head
For they see that my gift is the boon of light:
I’m a pleasure to eyesight, so up with you all,
O Seers, and joy ye the joys of my sight.”
And upon the Palace-door was inscribed the following quatrain,
“This Mansion’s adorned
As delight to mans eye;
O’er its door writ is ‘Welcome,’
So safely draw nigh.”
And when they had finished this inscription over the doorway, they went forth from the entrance which stood at the head of the Great Hall and proceeded to a square of large space abounding in trees and enjoyable for rills; and they surrounded it with a fencing-wall built of rough stone which they stuccoed over and figured with various paintings. Then they planted this garden with all manner fruit-bearing trees and fragrant herbs and flowers and firstlings of every kind and hue and they trained the branches after a wonderful fashion, leading under their shade leats and runnels of cool water; and the boughs were cunningly dispread so as to veil the ground which was planted with grains of divers sorts and greens and all of vegetation that serveth for the food of man. Also they provided it with a watering wheel whose well was revetted with alabaster190— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
184 In text “Dayr Nashshábah,” a fancy name.
185 So in text: the name is unknown to me; its lit. meaning would be, “of high-breasted Virgins.”
186 In text “Al-Jay’a” which is a well-omened stone like the ‘Akík=carnelian. The Arabs still retain our mediaeval superstitions concerning precious stones, and of these fancies I will quote a few. The ruby appeases thirst, strengthens cardiac action and averts plague and “thunderbolts.” The diamond heals diseases, and is a specific against epilepsy or the “possession” by evil spirits: this is also the specialty of the emerald, which, moreover, cures ophthalmia and the stings of scorpions and bites of venomous reptiles, blinding them if placed before their eyes. The turquoise is peculiarly auspicious, abating fascination, strengthening the sight, and, if worn in a ring, increasing the milk of nursing mothers: hence the blue beads hung as necklaces to cattle. The topaz (being yellow) is a prophylactic against jaundice and bilious diseases. The bloodstone when shown to men in rage causes their wrath to depart: it arrests hemorrhage, heals toothache, preserves from bad luck, and is a pledge of long life and happiness. The “cat’s -eye” nullifies Al-Ayn=malign influence by the look, and worn in battle makes the wearer invisible to his foe. This is but a “fist-full out of a donkey-load,” as the Persians say: the subject is a favourite with Eastern writers.
187 Or white lead: in the text it is “Sapídaj,” corresponding with the “Isfidaj” of vol. vi. 126.
188 In the text “Bashkhánah”; corr. of the Pers. “Peshkhánah”=state-tents sent forward on the march.
189 This phrase, twice repeated, is the regular formula of the Ráwí or professional reciter; he most unjustifiably, however, neglects the “Inshallah.”
190 The revetment of the old wells in Arabia is mostly of dry masonry.
Dunyazad said to her “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Architects set up in that palace-garden a water-wheel whose well was revetted with alabaster and whose wood-work and wheel were of chaunders-wood, whilst its pitchers were of fine porcelain and its cordage191 was of raw silk. And when they were free of this work they edified amongst the scented shrubs and blossoms a towering dome based upon four-square walls of variegated marbles and alabasters studded with carbuncles192 and its ceiling was supported upon columns of the finest stone with joinery of lign-aloes and sandal, and they dubbed its cupola with jewels and precious stones and arabesque’d193 it with gold and silver. Then they made therein four saloons more, each fronting other, and at the head of one and all was a latticed window impending over the bloomy shrubs and fragrant herbs; the colonnettes of those casements were silvern whilst the shutters were of sandal-wood plated and studded with precious metals; and over the lintels thereof was an ornamental frieze of gold inscribed with lines of verse which shall be described in its due place. And they inlaid that frieze with rubies and jacinths until it made the cupola resemble the domes of Paradise. Moreover they trained the flowering shrubs and the perfumed herbs to overrun with their tendrils the casements in the drum of the dome, and when they had completed the work and had embellished it with all adornments they pierced for it an entrance and ranged around it three ramparts which, built up with large stones, were in breadth seven cubits. Then they edified for the Palace an impregnable gateway of Chinese steel whereunto led flights of alabastrine steps which were continued to the highmost parts, and lastly they derived the river Al-Kawa’ib till it surrounded the edifice on every side and encircled it as signet-ring girdeth finger or wristlet wrist. Now when the Architects and Master-masons had made an end of building the Palace and its domes and had finished laying out and planting the parterres, they went in to King Al-Mihrjan and kissing ground between his hands informed him thereof; and he, receiving this report, at once took his daughter, Al-Hayfa, and mounting horse, he and the Lords of his land rode forth till they reached the river Al-Kawa’ib which ran at three days’ distance from his capital. When he arrived there and looked upon the Palace and its elevation in fortalice-form he was pleased therewith and so were all of his suite and retinue; whereupon he went up to it and beholding the ordinance and the ornamentation and the cupolas and the gardens and the edification and embellishment of the whole, he sent for the Architects and Master-masons and the artificers whom he thanked for their work, and he bestowed upon them robes of honour and gifted and largessed them and assigned to them rations and pay and allowances. So they kissed ground before him and went their ways. Then King Al-Mihrjan and his host withdrew within the Palace, and he bade serve up the trays of viands and sumptuous food for a banquet, after which he and his abode three days in eating and drinking and diversion and disport; and he gave robes of honour to his Wazirs and Emirs and the Grandees of his kingdom, and in fine issued orders for their departure. When they went forth from him, he commanded to summon Al-Hayfa and her women with all their belongings; and she, having made act of presence and having ascended to the Palace and considered it with its beauty and artifice and ornamentation, was pleased and rejoiced therein. The father abode with her three days, and then farewelling her returned to his capital; and she on his departure bade her slave-girls distribute the couches about the saloons placing in each one a seat of ebony plated with glittering gold, whose legs were of elephant’s ivory, and over one and all they reared canopies of silk and brocade adorned with jewels and precious metals and bespread them with mattresses and cushions and pillows, and over the floor of the palaces they laid down carpets whereupon was orfrayed this couplet,
“O Friend hereon seated be blythe and gay
Unless hereto bound and debarred of way.”194
Then they set upon them settees for seats whereupon were inscribed these couplets,
“O Seat, be thy beauty increased evermore;
Fair fall thee with happiness choice and meet;
An I fail in life through my slip and sin,
To-morrow in Heav’n I’ll give thee seat.”
Then195 the attendants decorated the whole Palace until it became like unto one of the Mansions of Heaven, and when the women had done her bidding, Al-Hayfa was much pleased, so she took one of the slave-girls by the hand and walked with the rest of them around the Palace considering its artifice and its embellishment, especially the paintings which covered the walls; and they rejoiced thereat, marvelling at the cunning decorations and they were grateful to the Architects who had builded and presented all these representations. And when Al-Hayfa reached the terrace- roof of the Palace she descended by its long flight of steps which led to the river-side, and bidding the door be thrown open she gazed upon the water which encircled it like ring around finger or armlet round arm, and admired its breadth and its swiftness of streaming; and she magnified the work and admired the gateway of steel for its strength and power of defence and sued for pardon of Almighty Allah.196— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
191 [Ar. “Tawánís,” with a long final to rhyme with “Kawádís,” instead of the usual “Tawánis,” pl. of “Taunas,” which Dozy (Suppl. s.v.) identifies with the Greek in the sense of cable. — ST.]
192 In Arab. “Hajárata ‘l-Bahramán.”
193 In text “Zamakú-há.”
194 I can see little pertinence in this couplet: but that is not a sine quâ non amongst Arabs. Perhaps, however, the Princess understands that she is in a gorgeous prison and relieves her heart by a cunning hint.
195 I again omit “Saith the Reciter of this marvellous relation,” a formula which occurs with unpleasant reiteration.
196 i.e. she cried “Astaghfiru ‘llah” (which strangers usually pronounce “Astaffira ‘llah”); a pious exclamation, humbling oneself before the Creator, and used in a score of different senses, which are not to be found in the dictionaries.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will.” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Al-Hayfa sued pardon of Allah the Great and took refuge with the Almighty from Satan the Stoned, after which said she, “There is no diverter to whatso is doomed by the Lord nor availeth aught of solicitude against that commanded by the Omnipotent, the All- puissant; and His power is upon me with His destiny and needs must it come to pass.” Then she called for a pen-case of gold and she wrote for placing over the gateway of the Palace the following couplets,197
“Behold here’s a mansion like ‘Home of Delight’
Whose sight heals the sick and abates all blight:
Here are roe-like maidens with breasts high raised
And with charms of the straightest stature bedight:
Their eyes prey on the lion, the Desert’s lord.
And sicken the prostrate love- felled plight:
Whomso their glances shall thrust and pierce
Naught e’er availeth mediciner’s might:
Here Al-Hayfa scion of noble sire
E’en craven and sinner doth fain invite;
And here for the drunken wight there abide
Five pardons198 and bittocks of bread to bite.
My desire is the maiden who joys in verse,
All such I welcome with me to alight,
And drain red wine in the garth a-morn
where beasts and birds all in pairs unite;
Where rose and lily and eglantine
And myrtle with scent morning-breeze delight,
Orange bloom, gillyflower and chamomile
With Jasmine and palm-bud, a joyful site.
Whoso drinketh not may no luck be his
Nor may folk declare him of reason right!
Wine and song are ever the will of me
But my morning wine lacks a comrade-wight
O who brightenest the Five199 do thou rise and fetch
By night for my use olden wine and bright:
O thou reading this writ, prithee comprehend:
Cross the stream I swear thee by God’s All-might!
This is House of Honour may none gainsay:* Cup-comrade shall be who shall self invite;
For within these gates only women wone,
So of men-folk here thou hast naught to affright.”
When Al-Hayfa had finished her writing and what she had improvised of verse and couplets, she bade close the entrance of the Palace and went up, she and her women, to the higher apartments; and the while she was drowned in thought and fell to saying, “Would Heaven I knew an this mighty guard and ward will defend Al-Mihrjan and would I wot if this fortalice will fend off Fate and what fain must be.” Then she enjoined her women to high diet and the drinking of wine and listening to intimate converse and the hearing of songs and musical instruments and gladness and gaiety for a while of time; and she felt herself safe from the shifts of chance and change. Such was her case but now we will recount (Inshallah!) what further befel her.200 In the land of Sind was a King hight Sahl201 and he was of the Monarchs of might, endowed with puissance and prepotency and exalted degree, abounding in troops and guards and overruling all that fair region. Now Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) had vouchsafed him a son than whom was none in his age fairer of semblance: beautiful exceedingly was he, with a face brighter far than the full moon; and he was of tongue eloquent and of pluck puissant, valorous, formidable. Also he was mighty fond of wine mere and rare and of drinks in the morning air and of converse with the fair and he delighted in mirth and merriment and he was assiduous in his carousing which he would never forego during the watches of the night or the wards of the day. Now for the abundance of his comeliness and the brilliancy of his countenance, whenever he walked abroad in the capital he would swathe his face with the Lithám,202 lest wax madly enamoured of him the woman-kind and all creation, wherefore he was named the Veiled Yúsuf of Beauty. It chanced one night as he sat carousing with his boon companions that the wine prevailed over him and he became sprightly and frolicsome; so he went forth from the door of his cabinet in a state of drink, understanding naught and knowing nothing of that he did. He wandered about the rooms belonging to his father and there he saw a damsel of the paternal concubines standing at the door of her bower and his wine so mastered him that he went up to her and clasped her to his bosom and threw her backwards upon the floor. She cried aloud to the royal Eunuchs who stood there looking on at him; not one of them, however, dared arrest him or even draw near him to free the girl, so he had his will of her and abated her maidenhead after which he rose up from off her and left her all bleeding203 from his assault. Now this slave-girl had been gifted to his sire and Yusuf left her to recover her condition when he would have visited her again, but as soon as he had returned to his apartment (and he not knowing what he had done) the Eunuchs took the damsel (she bleeding as before) and carried her to King Sahl who seeing her in such case exclaimed, “What man hath done this to her?” Said they, “’Tis thy son Yusuf;” and he, when he heard the words of his slaves, felt that this matter was hard upon him and sent to fetch the Prince. They hastened to bring him, but amongst the Mamelukes was one lovingly inclined to the youth who told him the whole tale and how his father had bade the body-guards summon him to the presence. And when Yusuf had heard the words of the Mameluke he arose in haste and baldrick’d his blade and hending his spear in hand he went down to the stables and saddled him a steed of the noblest blood and likeliest strain; then he mounted and, taking with him a score of Mamelukes his pages, he sallied forth with them through the city gate and rode on unknowing what was concealed from him in the Secret Purpose — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
197 In vol. viii. 183, there are two couplets of which the first is here repeated.
198 [Here the translator seems to read “Khams Ghaffár,"=five pardoners,where however, grammar requires a plural after “khams.” I take “khams” to be a clerical error for “Khamr”=wine, and read the next word “‘ukár,” which is another name for wine, but is also used adjectively together with the former, as in the Breslau Edition iv. 6 “al-Khamr al-‘ukár”=choice wine. — ST.]
199 I understand this as the cupbearer who delights the five senses.
200 In the original we have, “Saith the Sayer of this delectable narrative, the strange and seld-seen (and presently we will return to the relation full and complete with its sense suitable and its style admirable), anent what befel and betided of Destinies predestinate and the will of the Lord preordinate which He decreed and determined to His creatures.” I have omitted it for uniformity’s sake.
201 Meaning “The easy-tempered.” Scott (vi. 354) writes “Sohul.”
202 In text “Litám”=the mouth-band for man: ii. 31, etc. The “Mutalathsimín” in North Africa are the races, like the Tawárik, whose males wear this face-swathe of cloth.
203 “Drowned in her blood,” says the text which to us appears hyperbole run mad. So when King Omar (vol. ii. 123) violently rapes the unfortunate Princess Abrízah “the blood runs down the calves of her legs.” This is not ignorance, but that systematic exaggeration which is held necessary to impressionise an Oriental audience.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Prince Yusuf, son of King Sahl, went forth the city all unknowing whither he should wend and to what part he should turn, and he ceased not faring with his merry men for ten full-told days, cutting across the wold and wild and the valley and the stone-clad hill, and he was perplext as to his affair. But whilst he was still journeying he came upon the river Al-Kawa’ib and he drew in sight of the castle of Al-Hayfa, which stood amiddlemost that mighty stream with its height and bulk and defensive strength. Hereupon quoth Yusuf to himself, “By Allah, none founded this puissant fortalice in such power and prepotency and forcefulness save for a mighty matter and a cause of much consequence. Would Heaven I wot to whom this belongeth and who dwelleth therein!” Then he applied his mind and had recourse to the knowledge of his companions the Mamelukes and he commanded all his white slaves alight upon the marge of the river for the purpose of rest, and when they had reposed he asked them, “Who amongst you will go down to this stream and will over-swim it and will visit the lord of the Castle and bring us news of it and tidings of its ownership and discover for us the man to whom it belongeth?” But as no one would return him a reply he repeated his words without any answer and he, when he saw that, arose forthright and doffed what he had upon him of dress, all save his shirt only. Then he took his bow and quiver and placing his clothes with his weapon and arrow-case upon his head he went down to the river and swam it until he came forth it on the further side. Here he walked up to the gateway and found an impregnable entrance all of steel which none might avail to open, but when he saw the verses thereon inscribed and understood their significance he gave himself joy and was certified of entering. Then he took from his quiver a pen-case and paper whereupon he inscribed these couplets,
“At your door, O Fountains of weal, I stand
A stranger from home and a-morning bann’d.
Your grace shall haply forfend my foe
And the hateful band of unfriends disband:
I have none resort save your gates, the which
With verse like carcanet see I spann’d:
Ibn Sahl hath ‘spied with you safe repair,
So for lonesome stranger approach command!”
And when Yusuf had ended his writing, he folded the paper and made it fast to a shaft; then he took his bow and arming it drew the string and aimed the arrow at the upper terrace, where it dropped within the parapet. Now, by the decree of The Decreer Al-Hayfa was walking there with her women when the shaft fell between her feet and the paper became manifest, so she caught sight of it and took it up and opened it, and having read it understood its significance. Hereat she rejoiced and congratulated herself and her cheeks flushed rosy-red, and presently she went hastily in the direction of the entrance, whilst her women still looked down from the terrace upon the doorway and saw Yusuf a-foot before it. They cried out to their lady, “Verily there standeth below a youth lovely in his youthfulness, with his face gladdening as the crescent moon of Sha’aban.”204 But when Al-Hayfa heard the words of the women she was glad and gave herself joy and sensed an oppression of pleasure, whilst her vitals palpitated and she perspired in her petticoat-trowsers.205 Then she went down to the gateway which she bade be thrown open, and seeing Prince Yusuf she smiled in his face and welcomed him and greeted him. He returned her salam with sweetness of phrase and softness of words, when said she to him, “Well come and welcome and good cheer to thee, O thou who dost visit us and takest refuge in our demesne206 and in our presence, for that here thou hast immunity and impunity and civility;” presently adding, “Enter into this guarded stead and feel thou no fear from any foe, for thou hast wrought thy wish and hast attained thine aim and hast won thy will, O fair of face and o perfect of form, O thou whose countenance excelleth the new moon: here thou hast preserved thy life and art saved from foeman’s strife.” Thereupon she mounted the staircase and he behind her, while the slave-girls surrounded the twain, and she conversed with him and cheered him with fair words and welcomed him once more till they had entered the Castle saloon, when she took his hand and seated him at the head of the hall. But as Yusuf looked upon the fortalice and the beauty of its building and the excellence of its ordinance and the high degree of its decorations which made it like unto the Palaces of Paradise, and as he beheld that furniture and those couches, with what was over them of hangings, and the gems and jewels and precious metals which abounded there, he magnified the matter in his mind and said to himself, “This place belongeth to none save to a mighty monarch!” Then Al-Hayfa bade her women bring a bundle of clothing, and when they had set it between her hands, she opened it and drew forth a suit of Daylakian207 garments and a caftan of Coptick stuff (fine linen of Misraim purfled with gold), and bestowed them upon him, and she bound around his head an or-fringed Shash208 with either end gem-adorned. And when he donned the dress his countenance became brilliant and its light shone afar, and his cheeks waxed red as rose, and she seeing this felt her wits bewildered and was like to faint. However, she soon recovered herself and said, “This is no mortal: verily he is naught but of the Hur’s of Heaven. Then she bade her women bring food — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
204 For this allusion see vol. v. 191.
205 This physical sign of delight in beauty is not recognised in the literature of Europe, and The Nights usually attributes it to old women.
206 In text “Himà"=the private and guarded lands of a Badawi tribe; viii. 102.
207 In text “Daylakí.”
208 A small compact white turband and distinctive sign of the True Believers: see vol. viii. 8.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Al-Hayfa bade her women bring the food trays, and when they obeyed her bidding and placed them between the hands of Yusuf he considered them and saw that one was made of Yamání onyx and another of red carnelian and a third of rock crystal, and they bore platters of gold and silver and porcelain and jasper. Upon them were ranged dishes furnished with the daintiest food which perplexed the wits, and sweetmeats and sumptuous meats, such as gazelle’s haunch and venison and fatted mutton and flesh of birds, all the big and the small, such as pigeon and rock-pigeon, and greens marinated and viands roasted and fried of every kind and colour and cheeses and sugared dishes. Then she seated Yusuf beside her and served him with all manner cates and confections and conjured him to fall-to and morselled him until he had eaten his sufficiency; after which they twain sat together in laughter and enjoyment each conjoined to other and both cast in the mould of beauty and loveliness and brilliancy and stature and symmetric grace as though in the likeness of a rattan-palm. All this and Al-Hayfa rejoiced in Yusuf, but ever and anon she took thought anent her sire King Al-Mihrjan and his works and she kept saying in her mind, “Would Heaven I wot will he wed me to this youth so charming of inner grace; and, if my father be not satisfied therewith, I will marry my lover in despite of him.” And the while Yusuf quoth to himself “Would Heaven I wot how my sire will act in the business of the concubine whose pucelage I did away, and would Heaven I knew if he have ridden forth in search of me, or he have lost sight of me and never asked of me.” On this wise either of the twain spoke to themselves, and neither of them believed in safety, all unknowing what was predestined to them by Him who saith to a thing, “Be” and it becometh. So Al-Hayfa and Yusuf sat drowned in the depths of thought, withal their joyance and enjoyment made them clean forget that writ for them by Fate; and the Prince gazing upon the greater tray saw graven upon its edge these couplets,
“For the gathering of friends and familiars design’d
Between hands of Kings and Wazirs I’m shrin’d:
Upon me is whatever taste loves and joys
Of flesh and viands all kinds combin’d:
From me fill thee full of these cates and praise
Thy Lord, the Maker of all mankind.”
Then the attendants placed bread upon the trays, and the Prince found writ in moulded letters upon the loaves the couplets that follow,
“And a loaf new-born from the flour of wheat,
White and piping hot from the oven-heat:
Quoth to me my chider, Be wise and say
Soothe my heart and blame not, O friend I greet.”
Presently the handmaidens piled upon the trays platters of silver and porcelain (whereof mention hath been made) containing all that lip and tongue gratify of the meat of muttons in fry and Katá-grouse and pigeon-poults and quails and things that fly of every kind and dye which hungry men can long to espy, and Yusuf saw inscribed upon the china dishes the following couplets,
“Platters of china fair
That all men’s eyne ensnare,
None seeth in this our town
China of mould so rare.
Then he looked upon the silver plate and found it graven with these lines,
“Plate worked in silver of the brightest white
In height of beauty, O thou joy to sight,
When fully finisht and when perfect made
Becometh chargers peerless in delight.”
And portrayed upon the porcelain were all that grow and fly of geese and poultry. Anon a handmaid brought in hand a knife wherewith to carve the meats, and Yusuf looking at the blade saw upon it letters gold-inlaid and forming these verses,
I am blade of finest grain
Wherefrom comes naught of bane:
Fro’ my friends all harm I ward
And thy foes by me be slain!”
Hereupon the handmaids ended the ordinance of the table and set everything in its own stead; after which the Princess took seat beside the Prince and said to him, “O my lord, hearten our heart and deign grace to us and honour us by eating with us: this indeed be a day of joy for my union with thee and for thy lighting this my lodging with the splendour of thy semblance so bright and thy beauty so rare and for thine alighting at my home and thine opportune kindness and thine inner graciousness,209 O thou unique one of the Age and the Time, and O thou who hast no peer in our day and our tide.” Now when Yusuf heard the words of Al-Hayfa he said to her, “Wallahi, O thou who the moons adornest and who the sun and the daylight shamest, O lady of brow flower-bright and of stature elegant-slight, O thou who passest in beauty and comeliness all mortal beings, O thou with smile like water sweet and mouth-dews like purest spring and of speech the softest, I wot thou art the lady of goodness and excellence and generosity and liberality.” Then she again fell to morselling the Prince until they both had a sufficiency of food, whereupon she bade them fetch water for washing their hands after meat. And they brought to Yusuf a basin of glittering gold, when he rejoiced with exceeding exultation the while he was sunk in meditation, and at times he gazed upon Al-Hayfa and his wits were bewildered and his senses seduced him to some- thing he would do with her for the abundance that was in her of beauty and loveliness. But his reason forbade to him his passion, and quoth he in his mind, “To everything its own time,"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
209 [The words in the text seem to be: “wa Talattuf Alfázak wa Ma’áník al-hisán”=and for the pleasingness of thy sayings and meanings so fine and fair. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will.” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Yusuf said, “To everything its own time, and soothly sayeth the old saw, Whoso hurrieth upon a matter ere opportunity consent shall at last repent. Now when they brought the basin before him and therein stood an ewer of crystal garnished with gold, he looked at it and saw graven thereupon the following couplets,
“I’m a Basin gold beautifies
For the hands of the great and the wise:
Abased210 for the cleansing of palms,
Washing hands with the water of eyes.”
Thereat he considered the ewer and saw inscribed upon it these lines,
“O rare the Ewer’s form whereon must dote
Our hearts and pupils of our eyes fain gloat:
Seems ferly fair to all admiring orbs
You seemly body wi’ the slender throat.
And when he had finished washing his hands and had dried them with the napkins he pointed at them and spoke these couplets,
“Groweth my love a-heart and how to hide
When o’er the plains of cheek tear-torrents glide?
I veil what love these sobs and moans betray
With narrowed heart I spread my patience wide.
O Farer to the fountain,211 flow these eyes
Nor seek from other source to be supplied:
Who loveth, veil of Love his force shall reave,
For tears shall tell his secrets unespied:
I for the love of you am bye-word grown,
My lords, and driven to the Desert-side;
While you in heart of me are homes, your home;
And the heart-dweller kens what there may bide.
When Prince Yusuf had finished his improvisation and the poetry which he produced, Princess Al-Hayfa bussed him upon the brow, and he seeing this waxed dazed of his wits and right judgment fled him and he fell fainting to the floor for a while of time. And when he came to himself he pondered how she had entreated him and his Passion would have persuaded him to do with her somewhat but Reason forbade and with her force he overcame himself. After his improvising Al-Hayfa again saluted him on the front and cried, “Indeed thou hast done well in thy words, O thou with Crescent’s brow!” Presently she came for the table of wine and filling a cup drank it off; then she crowned another goblet and passed it to Yusuf who took it and kissed it while she improvised some couplets as follows,
“Thy seduction of lips ne’er can I forbear
Nor deny love-confession for charms so rare:
O thou aim of my eyes, how my longing stay?
O thou tall of form and long wavy hair?
Thy rose-hued cheek showeth writ new-writ212
Dimming wine my cups in their rondure bear.”
And presently she added,213
“I hid his phantom, by the Lord, but showed
My looks the blush his scented cheek had sent:
How veil the joy his love bestows, when I
To blood-red214 tears on cheek give open vent,
When his uplighted cheek my heart enfires
As though a-morn in flame my heart were pent?
By Allah, ne’er my love for you I’ll change
Though change my body and to change consent.
And when Al-Hayfa had finished her improvisation and her poetry, Yusuf drained the goblet and after kissing it returned it to her; but he was as one a-swoon. Then she took it from him and he recovered and presently declaimed for her the following couplets,
“A maiden in your tribe avails my heart with love to fire215
And how can I a-hidden bear the love my eyes declare?
The branches of the sand-hill tree remember and recall
What time she softly bent and showed a grace beyond compare;
And taught me how those eyne o’erguard the roses of her cheek
And knew to ward them from the hand to cull her charms would dare.”
As soon as Yusuf had finished his improvisation and what of poetry he had produced, Al-Hayfa took seat by his side and fell to conversing with him in sweetest words with softest smiles, the while saying, “Fair welcome to thee, O wonder of beauty and lovesome in eloquence and O charming in riant semblance and lord of high degree and clear nobility: thou hast indeed illumined our place with the light of thy flower-like forehead and to our hearts joyance hast thou given and our cares afar hast thou driven and eke our breasts hast made broad; and this is a day of festival to laud, so do thou solace our souls and drain of our wine with us for thou art the bourne and end and aim of our intent.” Then Al-Hayfa took a cup of crystal, and crowning it with clear-strained wine which had been sealed with musk and saffron, she passed it to Prince Yusuf. He accepted it from her albeit his hand trembled from what befel him of her beauty and the sweetness of her poetry and her perfection; after which he began to improvise these couplets,
“O thou who drainest thy morning wine
With friends in a bower sweet blooms enshrine–
Place unlike all seen by sight of man
In the lands and gardens of best design —
Take gladly the liquor that quivers in cup
And elevates man, this clean aid of the Vine:
This goblet bright that goes round the room
Nor Chosroës held neither Nu’uman’s line.
Drink amid sweet flowers and myrtle’s scent
Orange-bloom and Lily and Eglantine,
And Rose and Apple whose cheek is dight
In days that glow with a fiery shine;
‘Mid the music of strings and musician’s gear
Where harp and pipe with the lute combine; —
An I fail to find her right soon shall I
Of parting perish foredeemed to die!”
Then Al-Hayfa responded to him in the same rhyme and measure and spake to him as follows,
“O thou who dealest in written line
Whose nature hiding shall e’er decline;
And subdued by wine in its mainest might
Like lover drunken by strains divine,216
Do thou gaze on our garden of goodly gifts
And all manner blooms that in wreaths entwine;
See the birdies warble on every bough
Make melodious music the finest fine.
And each Pippet pipes217 and each Curlew cries
And Blackbird and Turtle with voice of pine;
Ring-dove and Culver, and eke Hazár,
And Katá calling on Quail vicine;
So fill with the mere and the cups make bright
With bestest liquor, that boon benign; —
This site and sources and scents I espy
With Rizwan’s garden compare defy.”
And when Al-Hayfa had ended her improvisation and what she had spoken to him of poetry, and Yusuf had given ear to the last couplet, he was dazed and amazed and he shrieked aloud and waxed distraught for her and for the women that were beside and about her, and after the cry he fell fainting to the ground. But in an hour218 he came to, when the evening evened and the wax candles and the chandeliers were lighted, his desire grew and his patience flew and he would have risen to his feet and wandered in his craze but he found no force in his knees. So he feared for himself and he remained sitting as before. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
210 [The Arabic seems here to contain a pun, the consonantic outline of “Tasht”=“basin” being the same as of “tashshat”=she was raining, sprinkling. — ST.]
211 In Arab. “Yá Wárid”: see vol. iii. 56.
212 The growing beard and whisker being compared with black letters on a white ground.
213 In the text these seven couplets form one quotation, although the first three rhyme in ——áru and the second four in —íru.
214 This “diapedesis” of bloodstained tears is frequently mentioned in The Nights; and the “Bloody Sweat” is well-known by name. The disease is rare and few have seen it whilst it has a certain quasi-supernatural sound from the “Agony and bloody sweat” in the Garden of Gethsemane. But the exudation of blood from the skin was described by Theophrastus and Aristotle and lastly by Lucan in these lines:—
— Sic omnia membra
Emisere simul rutilum pro sanguine virus.Sanguis erant lachrymû, etc.Of Charles IX. of France Mezaray declares ”Le sang lui rejaillait par las pores et tous les conduits de son corps,” but the superstitious Protestant holds this to be a “judgment.” The same historian also mentions the phenomenon in a governor condemned to die; and Lombard in the case of a general after losing a battle and a nun seized by banditti — blood oozed from every pore. See Dr. Millingen’s “Curiosities of Medical Experience,” p. 485, London, Bentley, 1839.
215 [I read this line: “Fí Hayyi-kum Taflatun háma ‘l-Fawádu bi-há (Basít)” and translate: In your clan there is a maiden of whom my heart is enamoured. In the beginning of the next line the metre requires “tazakkarat,” which therefore refers to “Aghsun,” not to the speaker: “the branches remember (and by imitating her movements show that they remember) the time when she bent aside, and her bending, graceful beyond compare, taught me that her eyes kept watch over the rose of her cheek and knew how to protect it from him who might wish to cull it.” This little gem of a Mawwál makes me regret that so many of the snatches of poetry in this MS. are almost hopelessly corrupted. — ST.]
216 In the text “Simá‘a,” lit. hearing, applied idiomatically to the ecstasy of Darwayshes when listening to esoteric poetry.
217 The birds mentioned in the text are the “Kumrí” (turtle-dove), the “Shabaytar” [also called “Samaytar” and “Abu al-‘Ayzar”=the father of the brisk one, a long-necked water bird of the heron kind. — ST.], the Shuhrúr (in MS. Suhrúr)=a blackbird [the Christians in Syria call St. Paul “Shuhrúr al-Kanísah,” the blackbird of the Church, on account of his eloquence. — ST.], the “Karawán,” crane or curlew (Charadrius ædicnemus) vol. vi. 1; the “Hazár;” nightingale or bird of a thousand songs, vol. v. 48; the “Hamám,” ruffed pigeon, culver, vol. v. 49; the “Katá,” or sandgrouse, vols. i. 131, iv. 111, etc.; and the “Sammán” or quail, Suppl. vol. vi.
218 The “Sá‘ah,” I may here remark, is the German Stunde, our old “Stound,” somewhat indefinite but meaning to the good Moslem the spaces between prayer times. The classical terms, Al-Zuhá (undurn-hour, or before noon) and Maghrib=set of sun, become in Badawi speech Al-Ghaylah=siesta-time and Ghaybat al-Shams. (Doughty, index.)
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when Yusuf remained sitting as before, Al-Hayfa asked him saying, “How art thou hight, O dearling of my heart and fruit of my vitals?” Here- upon he told her his name and the name of his sire, and related to her the whole of what had befallen him, first and last, with the affair of the concubine and his faring forth from his own city and how he had sighted her Palace and had swum the stream and shot the shaft that carried the paper, after which he recited to her these couplets,
“I left my home for a fair young maid
Whose love my night with its light array’d;
Yet wot I not what her name may be
Thus ignorance mating with union forbade.
But when of her gifts I was certified
Her gracious form the feat easy made;
The King of Awe sent my steps to her
And to union with beauty vouchsafed me aid:
Indeed disgrace ever works me shame
Tho’ long my longing to meet I’m afraid.”
When Al-Hayfa heard his name her great love to him waxed greater. Then she took the lute upon her lap and caressed it with her finger-tips when it sighed and sobbed and groaned and moaned219 and she fell to singing these verses,
“A thousand welcomes hail thy coming fain,
O Yusuf, dearling son of Sahl’s strain:
We read thy letter and we understood
Thy kingly birth from sand that told it plain:220
I’m thine, by Allah, I the loveliest maid
Of folk and thou to be my husband deign:
Bruit of his fair soft cheek my love hath won
And branch and root his beauty grows amain:
He from the Northern Realms to us draws nigh
For King Mihrjan bequeathing ban and bane;
And I behold him first my Castle seek
As mate impelled by inspiration fain.
The land upstirs he and the reign he rules
From East to West, the King my father slain;
But first he flies us for no fault of ours
Upon us wasting senseless words and vain:
E’en so Creation’s Lord hath deigned decree,
Unique in Heaven — glorified be He!”221
Now when Yusuf heard the words of Al-Hayfa he rejoiced with exceeding joy and she was gladdened in like manner, after which he gifted her with all that was upon him of gear and in similar guise she doffed what dress was upon her and presented it to him.222 Then she bade the slave-girls bring her an especial suit and they fetched her a second bundle and she clothed Yusuf with what was therein of sumptuous clothes. After this the Prince abode with Al-Hayfa as an inmate of her palace for a term of ten days in all the happiness of life, eating and drinking and enjoying conjugal intercourse.223 Presently Almighty Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) decreed that, when all tidings of Yusuf son of Sahl were lost, his sire sent in search of him Yahyà,224 his cousin and the son of his maternal aunt, amongst a troop of twenty knights to track his trail and be taught his tidings until Allah (be He glorified and magnified!) guided him to the pages who had been left upon the river-bank. Here they had tarried for ten days whilst the sunshine burnt them and hunger was exterminating them; and when they were asked concerning their lord, they gave notice that he had swum the stream and had gone up to yonder Castle and had entered therein. “And we know not (they ended) whether he be alive or dead.” So the lord Yahya said to them, “Is there amongst you any will cross the current and bring us news of him?” But not one of them would consent and they remained in silence and confusion. So he asked them a second time and a third time yet none would rise up before him and hearten him to attempt the dangers of the stream, whereupon he drew forth his ink-case of brass and a sheet of paper and he fell to writing the following verses,
“This day I have witnessed a singular case
Of Yusuf scion to Sahl’s dear race:
Since he fared at undurn his sire was grieved
And the Palace remained but an empty place:
I liken the youth to full moon ‘mid stars
Disappeadng and darkening Earth’s bright face.
’Tis my only fear that his heart is harmed,
Brent by Love-fires lacking of mercy and grace:
By Allah, albeit man’s soul thou rule
Among stranger folk thou art but an ace!”
Presently he took a reed and grasping it thrust thereinto the twisted and folded paper, after which he stopped the hole with wax; then, lashing it to the surface of the shaft, he set it upon the bow-handle and drew the string and shot the bolt in the direction of the Castle, whither it flew and fell at the foot of the staircase beside the main entrance. It so fortuned at that time a slave-girl came forth to fill her pitcher with water and she found the arrow and picked it up and carried it to her lady who was sitting in the speak-room at converse with Yusuf. Hereupon the Prince hent the reed in hand and broke it and drew forth the paper which he opened and read and comprehended. Hereupon he wept with exceeding great weeping until he fell to the floor a-faint and the Princess took the note from his grasp and perused it, and it was hard upon her, so she bade them beat the slave-girl who brought the writ with an hundred blows and they bastinadoed her till she lost her senses. But when Yusuf recovered, he thought of his pages and his people and his homestead and his family and he cried to Al-Hayfa, “Wallahi, I have sinned with a great sin when I left my suite in the desert; and Satan garred me forget them and the wine made me mindless of them and banished from my thought my folk and my home. And now ’tis my desire to fare and look upon my pages and to forgather with Yahya my cousin, the son of the King’s sister and greet them and dismiss them to their homesteads, after which I will return to thee forthright.” Quoth she, “By Allah, I may not patient myself away from thee a single hour otherwise shall my spirit depart my body, and I conjure thee by the Almighty that thou bid me return to them a reply!” Quoth Prince Yusuf, “What news wilt thou give them? An thou say that I never came to thee none will believe; for indeed my pages saw me passing into thy Palace”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
219 For the beautiful song of the lute, referred to here, see vol. viii. 281.
220 Alluding to the “Takht Raml,” table of sand, geomantic table?
221 As before noted, her love enables her to deal in a somewhat of prophetic strain.
222 This scene may sound absurd; but it is admirable for its materialism. How often do youthful lovers find an all-sufficient pastime in dressing themselves up and playing the game of mutual admiration. It is well nigh worthy of that “silliest and best of love-stories”— Henrietta Temple.
223 The text bluntly says “Wa Nikáh,” which can mean nothing else.
224 Scott calls him “Yiah”: vi. 354.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Prince Yusuf said to the Princess Al-Hayfa, “Indeed my pages saw me passing into the Palace and have given him225 tidings to that effect.” And she responded to him with fairest response and tenderness of terms and gem-like verse. Then she took her ink-case and paper and a brazen pen and would have written but he forbade her, saying by way of deprecation “This be not the right rede! An thou return a reply my slaves will take it and will bear it to my native country and will inform the folk of all our adventure: ’tis better far that I fare to them myself and greet them and going with them to my own country satisfy my sire, after which I will return to thee in hottest haste. And do not thou on this wise, for we fear lest our affair be made public and this our case be reported to thy royal father, and it prove hard to him by reason that all such talk in the case of the Kings is to them mighty grievous. Moreover, when he shall be acquainted with the truth he will either transport thee to his presence or he shall place over this Palace guards who may forbid thee from me and forbid me from thee, and this shall be a cause of our separation each from other.” But Al-Hayfa shrieked aloud when she heard these words and wept and wailing said, “O my lord, prithee take me with thee, me and my handmaids and all that be in this my Palace.” Said he, “I will not delay from thee save for the space of my wayfare an I live and Allah Almighty preserve me.” Hereat she wept with loud weeping and groaned, and love-longing surged up in her and she fell to repeating the following couplets,
“Rain, O mine eyeballs, gouts of blood beshed
From clouds of eyelids e’en as grass turns red.
O mighty bane that beatest on my bones
And oh heart-core, that melts with fire long-fed!
My soul’s own dearling speedeth on his march
Who can be patient when his true love sped?
Deal kindly with my heart, have ruth, return
Soon to my Castle nor be long misled.”
And when Al-Hayfa had ended her verse, Yusuf wept with sore weeping and cried, “By Allah, I had intended to return to thee after I had fared to them and had settled the matter in hand. But suffer me dismiss those who have come for me and seek reunion with thee, Inshallah — an it be the will of Allah Almighty.” Then he farewelled her and doffed what he had of dress, and when Al-Hayfa asked him, “Wherefore take off these clothes?” he answered,226 “I will not inform anyone of our news, and indeed this dress mostly befitteth womenkind.” Then he went forth from her with a grief-bound heart and she wept and cried, “Help! Help!”227 and all her women shrieked and shed tears over parting with him. But as soon as Yusuf passed out of the palace-door he took off the gown which was upon him and turband’d it around his head together with his bow and quiver, and he stinted not to stem the stream until he had reached the further bank where he found and greeted the lord Yahya and his Mamelukes. They all kissed his hand, and his cousin enquired of him, “What is the cause of thy disappearing from these thy men for a space of ten days?” He replied, “By Allah, O son of my aunt, when I went up to yonder Palace, I found there a Youth of the sons of the kings, who welcomed and greeted me as a guest and honoured me with the highmost honour and favoured me with the fullest favour. But when I would have taken leave of him, the air smote me228 and fell upon my loins and laid me up so that I feared to swim the stream and the unease that was upon me increased, and such is the reason of my delaying away from you.” Then he took horse together with Yahya and the pages, and they all sought their homes and cut across the wilds and the wastes and the vales and the stony hills until they drew near to their destination and their city rose clear before eyes of them. As soon as they reached it the tidings were told to King Sahl229 who made ready for faring forth, he and the lords of his land, to meet and greet his son and heir Yusuf; and meanwhile he bade decorate the capital with the choicest decorations and ornaments and adornments. The lieges gave one another joy of their Prince’s safe return, and clothed their city in gala-guise, and the father having met the son alighted from his steed and embraced him and kissed him between the eyes, and personally conducting him up to the Palace did him due honour and largessed him; and so great and lasting was their joy that the day of arrival became high holiday. As soon as night fell, Prince Yusuf repaired to his own Palace where he was met by his mother and his women who were as full moons a-rising; and the spouses numbered three, besides forty concubines. However he turned away from them and he lay alone that night moaning even as moaneth the dove for the loss of her mate; and he regarded not one of those wives and lemans, and he passed the dark hours in brooding over the loss of his beloved, and in weeping and in the reciting of poetry — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
225 Arab. “Akhbarú-hu,” alluding to the lord Yahyá.
226 Here I presume a “Kála” (quoth he) is omitted; for the next sentence seems appropriate to Yusuf.
227 In Arab. “Tastaghís”=lit. crying out “Wa Ghausáh”— Ho, to my aid!
228 The “Zug” or draught which gave him rheumatism — not a romantic complaint for a young lover. See vol. ii. 9. But his power of sudden invention is somewhat enviable, and lying is to him, in Hindustani phrase, “easy as drinking water.”
229 Who evidently ignored or had forgotten the little matter of the concubine, so that incident was introduced by the story-teller for mere wantonness.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Yusuf passed the night weeping and improvising verse, but he let not fall a word of explanation fearing lest he divulge his secret; and his spouses supposed that he was wroth with his sire and knew not what there was in his vitals of exceeding desire to Al-Hayfa. But when brake the day he was roused and gazing upon the rise of awaking Dawn he pondered the happy mornings which had passed; so he wept and complained and moaned like the culver and he fell to reciting these couplets,
“No joy but you in house and home I know
Save bitter heart and tears that ever flow;
Nor with mine eyes I view aught save yourselves
Whenas in lowe of love-desire I glow:
My heart enjoys but gust and greed for you,
Mine eyelids own no joy save wake and woe:
O blaming me for them, avaunt, by God
Nor leave me fancy-free, worst gift of foe!”
And when Yusuf had finished his poetry he fell into a fainting fit and he quivered as quivereth the fowl with cut throat,230 and he came not to himself save when the sun had arisen arraying the lowlands with its rays. Then he waxed wood and sat with eyes at the ground, a-gazing and not accosting nor answering aught, and lastly he took to his pillow. These tidings presently reached the King his father, who accompanied by the Lords of his land came to him and after greeting him said, “O my son, whom I would ransom with my life, what contagion hath come upon thee of disease, and whereof dost thou complain?” Quoth he, “O my father, the air hath struck me and hath cut my joints,”231 and quoth his father, “O my son, Almighty Allah vouchsafe ease thee of this thy disease.” Then the King mounted and went forth from him, and sent a leach which was a Jew232 of wits penetrating and sagacious. The man went in to him, and sitting beside him felt his joints and asked him of his case; but he held his peace nor would return aught of reply. So the Israelite knew that he was a lover and in the depths of love bedrowned; accordingly he left him and told the King that the Prince had no complaint save that he was a hot amourist and distraught of vitals. Hereupon his mother came to Yusuf and said, “O my son, fear Almighty Allah for thy soul, and have some regard for thy wives and concubines and yield not to thy passions which will mislead thee from the path of Allah.” But he deigned not answer her. In this condition he remained until three days sped, taking no taste of meat or drink, nor finding pleasure in any stead, nor aught of rest a-bed. Presently he bade summon a Mameluke of the Mamelukes Hilal hight, and asked him, “O Hilal, say me wilt thou be my companion in travel?” whereto the other answered, “Yea, verily, O my lord, to hear is to obey thee in all thou devisest and desirest.” Hereupon the Prince bade him saddle a steed of the purest blood, whose name was ”The-Bull-aye-ready-and-for-Battle-day- steady,”233 a beast which was a bye-word amongst the folk. The Prince waited until the first third of the night had gone by when he mounted the courser and placed Hilal his Mameluke upon the crupper, and they cut once more the wilds and the wastes until they sighted hard-by the river Al-Kawa’ib and the Castle of Al-Hayfa rising from its waters. Hereupon Yusuf fell to the ground in a swoon, and he when he recovered said to Hilal, “Do thou ungirth the horse’s saddle and hide it within the cave amid the rocks;” and the Mameluke did as he was bidden and returned to him. Herewith Prince Yusuf turband’d himself with his clothes and those of his man and backing the horse bade Hilal hang on by its tail, then the beast breasted the stream and ceased not swimming with them until it reached the farther side. There Yusuf dismounted and knocked at the door when a confidential handmaid established in the good graces of her mistress,234 came down and threw it open, after which she embraced him and kissed his hands and his breast and his brow between the eyes. Then she ran up and informed thereof her lady who with wits bedazed for excess of joy hurried down to him and threw her arms round his neck, and he threw his arms round hers, and she clasped him to her bosom, and he clasped her to his, and he kissed her and she kissed him, and they exchanged accolades, after which they both of them fell fainting to the floor until the women who stood by thought that they had been reaped by Death, and that their latest hour had been doomed. But when they recovered from their swoon they complained and wept, each lamenting to other the pains of parting, and lastly she asked him concerning Hilal, and he answered, “This is a Mameluke of the number of my Mamelukes.” So she marvelled how two men had come upon one horse,235 and quoth she to him, “O Yusuf, thou hast indeed tortured me with thine absence;” and quoth he to her, “By Allah (and beside Him God there is none!) my hand never touched or woman or aught of feminine kind or of she-Jinn or Jinn kind, but in me desire for thee ever surged up, and wake and in vitals a fiery ache.” Then the Princess bade her handmaids wend with Hilal in a body to the garden, and when they obeyed her bidding she arose and walked forth with Yusuf. And Shahrazad was surprised by dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
230 In text “Mazbúh”=slaughtered for food.
231 i.e. “I suffer from an acute attack of rheumatism”— a complaint common in even the hottest climates.
232 Needless to say that amongst Moslems, as amongst Christians, the Israelite medicine-man has always been a favourite, despite an injunction in the “Díním” (Religious Considerations) of the famous Andalusian Yúsuf Caro. This most fanatical work, much studied at Tiberias and Safet (where a printing-press was established in the xvith century) decides that a Jewish doctor called to attend a Goi (Gentile) too poor to pay him is bound to poison his patient — if he safely can.
233 Lit. “The-Bull-(Taur for Thaur or Saur)numbered-and-for-battle-day-lengthened.” In p.30 this charger is called, “The-bull-that-spurneth-danger-on-battle-day.” See vol. vi. 270 for a similar compound name, The-Ghul-who-eateth-man-we-pray-Allah-for-safety.
234 In text “Al-Járiyah rádih,” the latter word being repeated in p.282, where it is Rádih a P.N. [Here also I would take it for a P.N., for if it were adjective to “al-Járiyah” it should have the article. — ST.]
235 The “Radíf,” or back-rider, is common in Arabia, esp. on dromedaries when going to the Razzia: usually the crupper-man loads the matchlock and his comrade fires it.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting, and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Al-Hayfa walked forth with Yusuf and led him to the saloon of session where they passed their day in privacy, he and she, and right joyous was the joy of them twain. After this the Prince abode with her thirty full-told days in merriment prime and pleasure and wine. But when that time had elapsed, she said to him, “O light of my eyes, do thou arise and go up with me to the highmost post of the Palace that we may look upon this flow of stream and command a view of these mounts and mountains and these wilds and valleys wherein wander the gazelles.” Thereupon the twain fared together and solaced themselves with the spectacle of the antelopes browsing on the desert growth, when quoth Al-Hayfa, “Ah, O my lord, would I had for captive one of these herding roes to keep beside me in the Palace,” and quoth he, “By the rights of thine eyes, and the night of their pupils, I indeed will fill the place with them.” Hereupon he went forth from her in haste, albeit she hung on to him and forbade him from that, and she invoked upon herself a mighty strong invocation, yet would he not be stayed, but taking his horse and saddling it he left his Mameluke Hilal in the Castle and swam the stream upon his steed, and rode through the wold in quest of the gazelles. He ceased not chasing them till he had taken three,236 which he tied fast and slung upon his courser and rode back until he had reached the river-bank, and Al-Hayfa sat looking at him as he pounced upon and snatched up the roes from his courser’s back like a lion and she wondered with extreme wonderment. But when he had made sure of his place on the water-side and purposed returning to the palace, lo and behold! he saw a batel237 manned by sundry men coming towards him down-stream from the direction of his capital. Now Al-Hayfa, who was in her bower, expected the craft to be sent, bearing rarities and presents, by her sire King Al-Mihrjan; and Yusuf, when he looked upon its approach, was certified that it came from her father. So he delayed going down to the river till he had seen what action might be taken by the batel, but when the Princess sighted it she made sure of its coming from her sire, so she bade bring paper for note and a pen of brass wrought wherewith she wrote in verse and lastly indited to Yusuf these couplets,
“O my need, thou hast left me a-field to fare
When come is a craft which our men doth bear:
I deem she be sent by Al-Mihrján
And it bringeth of provaunt a goodly share:
So loiter a little, then back to us
And obey my bidding, O Beauty rare.”238
Then she made fast the paper to a shaft and setting it upon a bow-handle drew the string aiming high in air, and the arrow fell between the feet of the Prince, who seeing it took it up and read the writ and comprehended its meaning and full significance. So he hung back and he turned to wandering amongst the mountains, but anon he said in himself, “There is no help but that I discover this matter.” Then he dismounted from his steed and stabled it in a cave hard-by, and having loosed the antelopes he propped himself against a rock and fell to gazing upon the batel, which ceased not floating down until it made fast at the Palace gate. Hereupon there issued from it a youth, singular of comeliness, whom Al-Hayfa greeted and embraced, and forth- right led within her Palace. Presently came forth from the batel the four pages that were therein, and amongst them was a man hight Mohammed ibn Ibráhim, one of the King’s cup-companions, whereas the youth she had embraced was her cousin, named Sahlúb, the son of her maternal aunt. But when Yusuf looked upon this lover-like reception, his wits were wildered and the sparks started from his eyes, and he deprecated and waxed care-full and indeed he was like one Jinn-mad, and he cried, “Walláhi, I will stay away from them this night and see whatso they do.” Now Al-Hayfa had left her trusty handmaid at the Palace gate, saying to her, “Tarry here alone: haply Yusuf shall return during the dark hours, when do thou open to him the door.” Then she returned to her guests and bade serve the table of wine and seated Sahlub and Ibn Ibrahim, and took seat between them after she had hidden the Mameluke Hilal in a closet and she had disposed of the pages about the Palace-sides. Then they fell to drinking wine. Such was the case with these; but as regards Yusuf, he took patience until the dark hours drew near, when he swam the stream and he came forth it to the Palace-door, at which he knocked a light knock. Hereupon the porter-hand-maiden opened to him and he accosted her and questioned her concerning her lady, and was told that she was sitting with her cousin and the prime favourite and cup-companion of her sire. So quoth he to the girl, “Say me, canst thou place me in some commanding place that I may look upon them?” and she did accordingly, choosing a site whence he might spy them without being espied. He gazed at them as one distraught, while Al-Hayfa engaged them in converse and improvised verse to them; and this was so distressful to him that at last he asked the slave-girl, “Say me, hast thou by thee ink-case and paper?” And — Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Prince Yusuf took from the handmaid the pen-case and paper, and waxing void of sense through jealousy, fell to writing the following couplets,
“Indeed I deemed you of memory true
And our hearts as one that had once been two;
But I found to my sorrow you kept no pact:
This much and you fain of unfaith I view.
Ill eye ne’er looketh on aught but love
Save when the lover is hater too.
You now to another than us incline
And leave us and homeward path pursue;
And if such doings you dare gainsay,
I can summon witness convicting you;
To the Lion, wild dogs from the fount shall drive
And shall drink themselves, is none honour due.
That I’m not of those who a portion take
In love, O Moslems, I know ye knew.”
This done, he folded the paper and gave it to the slave-girl crying, “Say me, dost thou know where be Hilal?” and as she replied “Yes,” he told her to fetch him. So she went and brought him, and when he came his lord dismissed the girl on some pretext; then he opened the Castle-door and turband’d himself with his gear and that of his Mameluke, and the twain went down to the river and swam the stream until they reached the other side. When they stood on terra firma, the Prince found his horse and saddled and mounted him, taking Hilal upon the crupper, and rode forth to his own country. Such was the case with Yusuf; but as regards Al-Hayfa, when she awoke a-morn, she asked of her lover and her handmaid handed to her the letter; so she took it and read it and mastered its meaning and significance, after which she wept with excessive weeping until she fainted and the blood issued from her eyes. Presently she came to herself and dismissed Sahlub and his companions; then she said to Ibn Ibrahim, “Rise thou and depart our presence; haply some wight may come to us and swim the stream and pass into the Palace.” But Ibn Ibrahim remained behind while Sahlub departed with those about him; and when they had left the company, Al-Hayfa asked, “O Ibn Ibrahim, say me, canst thou keep my secret and my being fascinate239 by love?” and he answered, “Yea, verily, O my lady, how should I not conceal it for thee, when thou art my mistress and princess and the daughter of my master, even though I keep it inside mine eyes?” So she continued, “O Ibn Ibrahim, there came to me a youth named the Veiled Yusuf of Beauty, son of King Sahl, Sovran of Sind; and I waxed enamoured of him and he waxed enamoured of me, and he abode with me two score of days. One day of the days, quoth I to him, ‘Come up with me to the Palace-roof that we may gaze upon the view,’ when we saw from its height a herd of gazelles, and I cried, ‘Ah that I had one of these!’ Hereat said he, ‘By Allah, and by the life of thine eyes and by the blackness of their pupils, I will in very deed fill thy Palace therewith,’ and with such words he went forth and saddled his steed and swam the river to the further side, where he rode down three roes within sight of me. Then I looked city-ward up stream and saw a batel cleaving the waters, whereby I knew that my father had sent me somewhat therein; So I wrote to the Prince and shot the paper bound to a shaft and bade him hide away from your faces until ye should have departed. So he concealed himself within a cave where he tethered his horse, then he sought tidings of me, and seeing my cousin Sahlub, he was seized by jealousy. So he lingered till yesternight, when he again swam the stream and came to the Palace where I had posted Rádih, the handmaid, bidding her take seat beside the door lest haply he should enter; and presently she opened to him and he sought a place commanding a sight of us, and he saw me sitting with you twain, and both of you were carousing over your wine. Now this was sore to him; so he wrote to me yonder note, and taking his Mameluke with him, fared forth to his own folk; and my desire is that you hie to him.”240— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
239 In text “Ta’ayyun”=influence, especially by the “‘Ayn,” or (Evil) Eye.
240 I have somewhat abridged the confession of the Princess, who carefully repeats every word known to the reader. This iteration is no objection in the case of a coffee-house audience to whom the tale is told bit by bit, but it is evidently unsuited for reading.
Dunyazad said to her “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth Al-Hayfa to Ibn Ibrahim, “I devise that thou hie to Yusuf with this letter;” whereto quoth he, “Hearkening is obedience: I will, however, take this thy writ and wend with it first to my own folk, after which I will mount my horse and fare to find him.” So she largessed him with an hundred gold pieces and entrusted to him the paper which contained the following purport in these couplets,
“What state of heart be this no ruth can hoard?
And harm a wretch to whom none aid accord,
But sobs and singulfs, clouds that rain with tears
And seas aye flowing and with gore outpour’d;
And flames that rage in vitals sickness-burnt
The while in heart-core I enfold them stor’d.
Yet will I hearten heart with thee, O aim!
O Ravisher, O Moslems’ bane ador’d:
Ne’er did I look for parting but ’twas doomed
By God Almighty of all the lords the Lord.”
Then Mohammed Ibn Ibrahim took the paper and Al-Hayfa said to him, “Ho thou! Inform none that thou wast sitting beside me on that night.” Then he went forth until he drew near his folk and there he mounted a she-dromedary and pushed her pace until he arrived at the capital of Sind. He asked for the son of the King; and when they had directed him thereto he entered and found the Prince in privacy; so he kissed hands and gave him the writ which he took and opened and read. But when he had comprehended its object and purport, he turned and re-turned it with stern regards until he had well nigh torn it to tatters. Then he threw it to Ibn Ibrahim who said to him, “O lord of the Time and the Tide, ’tis not on this wise that the sons of the Kings cast away an address without returning aught of reply.” Quoth he, “There is no response from me,” and quoth Ibn Ibrahim, “O King of the Age, pity that thou mayest be pitied!”241 Hereupon the Prince called for pen-case and paper of note and pen of brass wrought242 and wrote in reply to her poetry the following couplets,
“Al-Hayfá with verses a-tip of tongue
Comes suing mercy for love so strong:
She hath no mercy fro’ me, but still
She pleadeth a plea that our love was long:
She falsed, turned face, doubted, recked her naught
And her hard false heart wrought me traitor’s wrong:
Were my heart now changèd her love to woo
She with quick despisal my heart had stung:
Were my eyne to eye her, she’d pluck them out
With tip of fingers before the throng:
Soft and tranquil life for her term she seeks
While with hardness and harshness our souls are wrung.
Then Yusuf folded the paper and handed it to Ibn Ibrahim and ordered him a robe of honour and an hundred dinars. So he took them and rode forth until he drew near the Palace of Al-Hayfa, when he tethered his dromedary and hid her in a cave whose mouth he walled with stones. Then he went down to the river and swam it till he reached the other side; and entering into the presence of Al-Hayfa he drew forth the paper and committed it to her. But she, after perusing it, wept with sore weeping and groaned until she swooned away for excess of tears and for the stress of what had befallen her. Such was the effect of what she had read in the letter, and she knew not what might be the issue of all this affair and she was perplext as one drunken without wine. But when she recovered she called for pen-case and paper, and she wrote these improvised couplets,
“O Lord of folk, in our age alone
And O Raper of hearts from the bonny and boon:
I have sent to thee ‘plaining of Love’s hard works
And my plaint had softened the hardest stone:
Thou art silent all of my need in love
And with shafts of contempt left me prone and strown.”
And after she had ended writing she folded her note and gave it to Ibn Ibrahim who took it, and cried to his slaves, “Saddle my she-dromedary,”, after which he mounted and fared until he had made the city of Sind. Then he repaired to Yusuf and after greetings handed the letter to him, but the Prince after perusing it243 threw it in his face, and presently rose and would have left him. But Ibn Ibrahim followed him and heard him say to his pages, “Send him back without beating him,” and they did accordingly, after forbidding him the place. So he again bestrode his she-camel and ceased not pushing on till he arrived at the Palace of Al-Hayfa where he presented himself in her presence.244 But when he handed to her the writ she found it was that very same she had sent to the Prince, so she wept and sorrow was sore upon her and presently she cried, “O Ibn Ibrahim what’s to do?” He replied, “When I delivered thy writ to him, he brake its seal and read it and threw it in my face: then he rose in wrath from beside me, and as I followed he bade his slaves and pages drive me away, adding, ‘I have for her nor answer nor address’; and this was all he did.” When the Princess heard his words, she felt the matter to be grievous, and she wept unknowing how she should act, and fainted for awhile, and when she recovered she said, “O Ibn Ibrahim, what is this affair and on what wise shall I behave? Do thou advise me in my case; and haply joy shall come to me from thy hand, for that thou be a Counsellor of the Kings and their boon-companion.” “O my lady,” he replied, “do thou not cut off thy tidings from him and haply shall Almighty Allah change his heart from case to case and peradventure insistence overcometh hindrance.”245 Quoth she, “Had he sent me a reply I had been rightly directed as to what I should write, but now I wot not what to indite, and if this condition long endure I shall die.” “Address him again,” answered he, “and I will fare back once more and fain would I ransom thee with my life, nor will I return without a reply."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
241 In text “Irham turham:” this is one of the few passive verbs still used in popular parlance.
242 This formula will be in future suppressed.
243 I spare my readers the full formula:—“Yúsuf took it and brake the seal (fazza-hu) and read it and comprehended its contents and purport and significance: and, after perusing it,” etc. These forms, decies repetita, may go down with an Eastern audience, but would be intolerable in a Western volume. The absence of padding, however, reduces the story almost to a patchwork of doggerel rhymes, for neither I nor any man can “make a silk purse from a suille ear.”
244 Here again in full we have:—“He mounted the she-camel and fared and ceased not faring until he drew near to the Palace of Al-Hayfá, where he dismounted and concealed his dromedary within the same cave. Then he swam the stream until he had reached the Castle and here he landed and appeared before Al-Hayfá,” etc.
245 “’Tis dogged as does it” was the equivalent expression of our British Aristotle; the late Charles Darwin.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Ibn Ibrahim said to Al-Hayfa, “Do thou write to him and there is no help but that I return to thee with a reply, albe life depart from me.” Then she asked for pen-case and paper and thereon indited the following couplets,
“Ah would thou knew what I of parting dree
When all my hiddens show for man to see;
Passion and longing, pine and lowe o’ love
Descend surchargèd on the head of me:
God help the days that sped as branches lopt
I spent in Garden of Eternity.246
And I of you make much and of your love
By rights of you, while dearest dear be ye:247
May Allah save you, parted though we be,
While bide I parted all unwillingly:
Then, O my lord, an come thou not right soon
The tomb shall home me for the love of thee.”
And when she had written her reply, she largessed Ibn Ibrahim with an hundred dinars, after which he returned248 to the capital of Sind, where he found Yusuf issuing forth to hunt; so he handed to him the letter, and the Prince returning citywards set apart for him a fair apartment and spent the livelong night asking anent Al-Hayfa. And when it was morning he called for pen-case and paper whereupon he wrote these improvised couplets,
“You dealt to us a slender dole our love mote satisfy,
Yet nor my gratitude therefor nor laud of me shalt gain:
I’m none of those console their hearts by couplets or by verse
For breach of inner faith by one who liefly breaks the chain:
When so it fortunes she I love a partner gives to me
I wone in single bliss and let my lover love again:
Take, then, what youth your soul desires; with him forgather, for
I aim not at your inner gifts nor woo your charms I deign:
You set for me a mighty check of parting and ill-will
In public fashion and a-morn you dealt me bale and bane:
Such deed is yours and ne’er shall it, by Allah satisfy
A boy, a slave of Allah’s slaves who still to slave is fain.”
Then Prince Yusuf robed Ibn Ibrahim in a robe of green; and giving him an hundred gold pieces, entrusted him with the letter which he carried to Al-Hayfa and handed it to her. She brake the seal and read it and considered its contents, whereupon she wept with sore weeping which ended in her shrieking aloud; and after she abode perplext as to her affair and for a time she found no sweetness in meat and drink, nor was sleep pleasant to her for the stress of her love-longing to Yusuf. Also her nature tempted her to cast herself headlong from the terrace of the Palace; but Ibn Ibrahim forbade her saying, “Do thou write to him replies, time after time; haply shall his heart be turned and he will return unto thee.” So she again called for writing materials and indited these couplets, which came from the very core of her heart,
“Thou art homed in a heart nothing else shall invade;
Save thy love and thyself naught shall stay in such stead;
O thou, whose brilliancy lights his brow,
Shaped like sandhill-tree with his locks for shade,
Forbid Heaven my like to aught else incline
Save you whose beauties none like display’d:
Art thou no amongst mortals a starless moon
O beauty the dazzle of day hath array’d?”
These she committed249 to Ibn Ibrahim who rode again on his route and forgathered with Prince Yusuf and gave him the letter, whose Contents were grievous to him; so he took writing materials and returned a reply in the following verses,
“Cease then to carry missives others write,
O Son of Ibrahim, shun silly plight:
I’m healed of longing for your land and I
Those days forget and daysters lost to sight:
Let then Al-Hayfá learn from me I love
Distance from her and furthest earthly site.
No good in loving when a rival shows
E’en tho’ ’twere victual shared by other wight;
These modes and fashions never mind arride
Save him unknowing of his requisite.
Then he entrusted the writ to Ibn Ibrahim, after giving him an hundred dinars, and he fared forth and ceased not faring till he had reached the palace of the Princess. Presently he went in and handed to her the writ, and as soon as she had read it, the contents seemed to her sore and she wept until her vitals were torn with sobs. After this she raised her hand250 heavenwards and invoked Allah and humbled herself before him and said, “My God, O my Lord, do Thou soften the heart of Yusuf ibn Sahl and turn him mewards and afflict him with love of me even as thou hast afflicted me with his love; for Thou to whatso Thou wishest canst avail, O bestest of Rulers and O forcefullest of Aiders.” Anon she fell to writing and indited these verses,
“Love rules my bosom and a-morn doth moan
The Voice, ah Love, who shows strength weakness grown!
His lashes’ rapier-blade hath rent my heart;
That keen curved brand my me hath overthrown:
That freshest cheek-rose fills me with desire:
Fair fall who plucketh yonder bloom new-blown!
Since love befel me for that youth did I
Begin for charms of him my pride to own:
O thou my hope, I swear by Him did share
Love and decreed thou shouldst in longing wone,
In so exceeding grief why sight I thee
Jacob made Joseph by the loss of me?”
She then handed the letter to Ibn Ibrahim, after giving him an hundred dinars; and he returned forthright to the city of Sind and, repairing to Yusuf, gave him the writ which he took and read. Hereupon the Prince waxed sore sorrowful and said to himself, “By Allah, indeed Al-Hayfa cleaveth to love."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
246 Arab. “Jannat al-Khuld”=the Eternal Garden: vol. ix. 214.
247 [I read: Wa inní la-ar’ákum wa ar’á widáda-kum, wa-hakki-kumú antum a’azzu ‘l-Wará ‘andí=And I make much of you and of your love; by your rights (upon me, formula of swearing), you are to me the dearest of mankind. — ST.]
248 In text: “He swam the stream and bestrode his she-camel.”
249 In text “Then she folded the letter and after sealing it,” etc.
250 Not “her hands” after Christian fashion.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Prince Yusuf said, “By Allah, had Al-Hayfa any save myself she had not sent me these letters; but the outgoings of the heart conciliate lovers and correspond each with other.” Then he took writing materials and after thinking awhile he improvised these couplets,
O thou of stature fair with waist full slight251
Surpassing sandhill- branch and reedlet light;
I deal in words and gems of speech that melt,
By none ‘mid all of mortal kind indite;
From my tribe’s lord, a lion rending foes
Moon of Perfections and ‘The Yusuf’ hight:
Homed in thy home I joyed my joys with maids
High-breasted,252 virgins weakening forceful sprite;
Your songs and touch of lute ‘mid trembling wine
Consoled all sorrows, made all hearts delight,
Till you to other deignèd union grant
And I your nature learnt and learnt aright,
Whereat my vitals failed, sore bane befel,
Pine, disappointment, and injurious blight.
No virtue dwelleth in the fairest forms
But forms the fairest are by goodness dight.
How many a maiden deckt with crescent brow
Hath nature dealing injury and despite?
Man hath no merit save in kindly mind
And loquent tongue with light of wits unite.”253
And when Yusuf had ended his poetry he presented an hundred dinars to Ibn Ibrahim, who took the letter and fell to cutting through the wilds and the wolds, after which he went in to the presence of Al-Hayfa and gave her the missive. She wept and wailed and cried, “O Ibn Ibrahim, this letter is indeed softer than all forewent it; and as thou hast brought it to me, O Ibn Ibrahim, I will largesse thee with two honourable robes of golden brocade and a thousand dinars.” So saying, she called for pen-case and paper whereupon she indited these couplets,
“O my lord, these words do my vitals destroy,
O thou gem of the earth and full moon a-sky!
How long this recourse to denial and hate
With heart whose hardness no rocks outvie?
Thou hast left my spirit in parting-pangs
And in fires of farness that flame on high:
How long shall I ‘plain of its inner pains?
Haps thy grace shall grant me reunion-joy:
Then pity, my vitals and whatso homed
Thy form within me before I die.
She then handed the paper to Ibn Ibrahim who again set out and sought the Prince and kissed his hand and gave him the letter; whereupon said he, “O Ibn Ibrahim, come not thou again bringing me aught of missive — ever or any more after this one.” Quoth Ibn Ibrahim, “Wherefore, O my lord, shall I not do on such wise?” and quoth Yusuf “Suffer her to learn the fates of men-kind.” Said the other, “I conjure thee, by Allah Almighty, ho thou the King, inasmuch as thou art of the seed of mighty monarchs, disappoint her not of her question; and Allah upon thee, unless thou show pity to her heart it haply will melt away with melancholy and love and madness for thy sake; and all of this is for the truth of her affection.” Hereupon Yusuf smiled and taking up his pen wrote these couplets,
“Stay thy tears; for hindrance and parting hie,
And the endless of Empire aye glorify:
From my core of heart fly all cark and care
After parting that seemed all Time defy.
A Lion am I for the love of him
Whom the slanderer’s part ne’er can satisfy:
My mind and soul be this day with you
But my heart and thought are at enmity:
Thought and mind delight in Love’s cruelty
While heart and soul for re-union cry:
And if mind and thought e’er can overcome
Soul and heart, Re-union thou ne’er shalt ‘spy.”
And when Yusuf had finished his writing, he gifted Ibrahim with an hundred dinars and sent him again to Al-Hayfa with the letter, and she on receiving it shed tears and said, “O Ibn Ibrahim, seeing that his soul and heart be with us, Allah Almighty availeth to turn his thoughts and his fancy and the mind of him.” Hereupon she took writing materials and wrote,
“Calm, O my lord, thy vitals’ painful plight,
O thou whose semblance lighteth sooty night:
O gladding heart, O sweet of union, Oh
Whose charms the tribe in festal hours delight:
O high in honour passing height of Kings,
O thou with purest blood ‘mid Kings bedight,
Fear’st not the Throne254 of God (O hope of me!)
When harming heart whereon all pains alight?
Then deign thou grant me union, for such wise
Shall rest my heartstrings and dark care wax bright:
From none, except that Lion O’ men Ali255
Comes pardon proving to man- kind his might.”
Then she passed her missive to Ibn Ibrahim giving him an hundred gold pieces and he pushed his pace till he reached the city of Sind, where he went in to Yusuf and kissed his hands and feet. The Prince taking the letter smiled and laughed and said, “O Ibn Ibrahim, when Allah (be He extolled and exalted!) shall decree my faring I will fare to them256 within a short while; but do thou return and let know that I intend forgathering with them.” Quoth the other, “Ah! O my lord, do thou indite her a reply, otherwise she will have no trust in me; so the Prince fell to penning these lines,
“My vitals restless bide for very jealousy
The while my heart must ever show unfriendly gree:
Yet I obeyed my heart and tore it out for him
Albe man ever holds his heart in amity;
And I have heard my lover drives me forth from him
But Allah grant my prayer of benedicite.
In anxious care I came and sought your side this day
Naught shall the youth exalt save generosity.”
Then Prince Yusuf passed the letter to Ibn Ibrahim who, after receiving his hundred dinars, repaired to Al-Hayfa and greeted her257 informing her the while that her lover was about to make act of presence. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
251 In text, “Ahyaf,” alluding to Al-Hayfá.
252 Arab. “Al-Kawá‘ib,” also P. N. of the river.
253 This is moralising with a witness, and all it means is “handsome is that handsome does.”
254 In text “‘Arsh” = the Ninth Heaven; vol. v.167.
255 The Shi’ah doctrine is here somewhat exaggerated.
256 “Them” for “her,” as has often occurred.
257 In the original “entrusted to her the missive:” whereas the letter is delivered afterwards.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Ibn Ibrahim said to Al-Hayfa, “Verily Yusuf purposeth to visit thee after a little while.” But when the Princess heard his words she would not believe him albeit her heart palpitated with pleasure; whereupon Ibn Ibrahim improvised to her as follows,
“O thou world-seducer and full moon bright,
Stay thy speech and with boon of good news requite.
Love pledged me his word he would see thee and said,
Hie thee home and order the house aright.
I awoke this morning in cark and care,
In tears distraught and in dire despite;
For the wrongs and farness thou doom’st me dree
Have forced my forces to fright-full flight.”
And when Ibn Ibrahim had ended his verse, Al-Hayfa joyed with increased and exceeding joy, and in her delight she answered him according to the rhyme and rhythm of his verse,
“O who spreadest clouds,258 Son of Ibrahim hight;
By the Lord who ruleth in ‘Arsh his height,
By Mohammed the bestest of men and by
Th’ adorers of yore and the Tá-Há’s 259 might,
By Zemzem, Safá and wall Hatím260
And Ka’abah and glories of Ka’abah’s site,
An this speech be sooth and my dearling come
One thousand, two thou- sand dinars are thy right;
And I’ll give thee a courser, O Ibrahim’s son,
Selle, stirrups and bridle with gold bedight;
Six turbands and robes that shall honour show
With that courser the colour of blackest night.
So hold me not like the most of mankind,
Who joy the fair ones to twit and flyte.”
And when Al-Hayfa had finished her verses, Ibn Ibrahim brought out to her the letter of the Prince, and as soon as she read it her heart was comforted and she waxed glad with exceeding gladness and she bade them present him with largesse of value great and a thousand dinars upon a china plate. After this she took him by the hand and led him into a closet and said, “O Ibn Ibrahim, all that be in this cabinet is a free gift to thee when thou shalt have brought to me that lover of mine.” Such was the case with them; but as regards Prince Yusuf, when Ibn Ibrahim left him, he felt love-lowe aflaming in his heart, and he summoned his Mameluke Hilal and said to him, “Go saddle for us the steed known by the name of The Bull-aye-ready-and-for-Battle-day-steady.” Hereupon the slave arose and enselled the courser and Yusuf mounted; and, taking his Mameluke on the crupper, pushed his pace (and he madly in love with Al-Hayfa), and he ceased not faring till he reached her Palace. He then swam the stream with his Mameluke hanging on, as before, to the tail, and knocked at the door which was opened by a damsel hight Nuzhat al-Zaman261 and she on recognising him kissed his hands and hurrying to her lady informed her of his coming. Al-Hayfa hearing of the arrival fell fainting to the ground and when she recovered she found Yusuf standing beside her head; so she arose and embraced him for a long while, after which she improvised and said,
“O thou Pilgrim of Love, after parting far
From us driven by malice of jealous foe!
My life for the friend in affection comes;
Naught dearer to me than such boon can show;
Full many a writ have I written thee
Nor union nor grace of return I know.
In this world I see him with single heart
O my wish! and Allah ne’er part us two.
And when she had ended her verses she bade the slave-girls convey Ibn Ibrahim and Hilal to the gardens, after which she led Yusuf to the saloon of session and the twain passed the night together he and she, in joyance and enjoyment, for that night was indeed a night of delight. But when Allah bade the morn to morrow, Al-Hayfa arose and cried, “How short it is for a night: Ah that it had been longer for us! but ’tis for me to say even as said Imr al-Kays262 in sundry of his verses upon a similar theme,
“On me Night waxeth long nor would I shorten Night;
Yet hasteth Morn when I for longer Nights would sue:
It brings me union till ‘My lover’s mine’ I cry
Yet when with him unite disunion comes to view.
Now when it was the second day, Al-Hayfa took seat in the assembly of converse. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
258 The cloud (which contains rain) is always typical of liberality and generous dealing.
259 The Koranic chapt. No. xx., revealed at Meccah and recounting the (apocryphal) history of Moses.
260 The “broken” (wall) to the North of the Ka’abah: Pilgrimage iii. 165.
261 i.e. “Delight of the Age:” see vol. ii. 81.
262 In the text written “Imriyyu ‘l-Kays”: for this pre-Islamitic poet see Term. Essay, p. 223. “The Man of Al-Kays” or worshipper of the Priapus-idol was a marking figure in Arabian History. The word occurs, with those of Aera, Dusares (Theos Ares), Martabu, Allat and Manát in the Nabathûan (Arabian) epigraphs brought by Mr. Doughty from Arabia Deserta (vol. i. pp. 180-184).
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Al-Hayfa repaired to the saloon of séance, she and Yusuf, and summoned Ibn Ibrahim and bade the handmaids bring everything that was in the closet. They obeyed her bidding and fetched her all the contents, amongst which were ten robes of honour and three coffers of silk and fine linen and a packet of musk and a parcel of rubies and pearls and jacinths and corals and similar objects of high price. And she conferred the whole of this upon Mohammed ibn Ibrahim, the while improvising these verses,
“We are noblest of lords amongst men of might;
What we give and largesse bring the most delight:
And when we strive with our hearts and souls
We strive in public nor rue our plight.
With me the pact no regret shall breed
Save in head of suspecting envying wight.
I am none who riseth sans bounteous deed;
I am none who giveth with felon sprite.”
And when Al-Hayfa had ended her poetry, Prince Yusuf largessed263 Ibn Ibrahim and said to him, “Thou shalt have on my part one thousand dinars and twenty robes of brocade and an hundred she-camels and eighty horses (whereof the meanest is worth five hundred gold pieces and each is saddled with a golden selle), and lastly forty handmaids.” After which he began to improvise these couplets,
“Good signeth man to sight and all men see
Sahl’s son is lord of liberality:
Time and the world and mortals one and all
Witness my goodness and for aye agree:
Who comes for purpose him I gratify
With boons, though ’twere with eyen-light of me:
I back my neighbour whenas harmèd by
Dolour of debt and foeman’s tyranny:
Whoso hath moneys lacking liberal mind
Though he snatch Fortune ‘mid the vile is he.”
And when Yusuf had finished his verse, Ibn Ibrahim arose and bussed his hands and feet and cried, “Allah dole to thee all thou desirest.” The other replied, “When thou shalt return to our city, do thou go to my quarters and therefrom take thee whatso I have promised.” Then the Prince and Princess waxed assiduous in the eating of meat and the drinking of wine; and this continued for many successive months264 until Ibn Ibrahim craved leave to visit his folk; and, when he received permission, he took with him that was light in weight and weighty of worth. And as he set forth, Al-Hayfa said to him, “When thou shalt return to thy people in safety, do thou salute for me my sire and name to him a certain stallion which same he shall largesse to thee and likewise its saddle and bridle.” Hereupon he farewelled them and went forth and stemmed the stream and withdrawing his she-dromedary from the cave harnessed her and mounted her and set forth upon his desert way, and as soon as he reached the capital of Sind he went to his folk who greeted him kindly. Now when King Al-Mihrjan heard of Mohammed ibn Ibrahim’s coming he sent to summon him and as soon as he appeared between his hands he asked concerning his absence. “O King of the Time and the Tide,” quoth he, “I have been in Yasrib265 city;” and indeed he was one of the cup-companions of Al-Hayfa’s father and by the decree of Destiny he had been ever in high favour with the King. So the twain sat down to drink wine and as Fortune willed it Ibn Ibrahim bore about him a letter containing poetry, part of the correspondence between the Prince and Princess, wherein were written the names of all three. Now when he was at the height of his joy he wagged his head and shook off his turband and the paper fell therefrom into Al-Mihrjan’s lap.266 The King took it and read it and understood its contents but he kept the case secret for a while; presently, however, he dismissed his Courtiers and Equerries who were around him and forthright bade smite Mohammed ibn Ibrahim with stripes until his sides were torn. Then quoth he, “Acquaint me concerning this youth who correspondeth with my daughter, making thee the goer between them twain, otherwise I will cut off thy head.” Quoth Ibn Ibrahim, “Ho thou King; verily this be only poetry which I found in one of the histories of old."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
263 In text “Zakka,” which means primarily a bird feeding her young.
264 In the text “months and years,” the latter seeming de trop.
265 Or “Yathrib” = Al-Madinah; vol. iv. 114.
266 Scott (vi. 358 et seqq.) who makes Ali bin Ibrahim, “a faithful eunuch,” renders the passage, “by some accident the eunuch’s turban unfortunately falling off; the precious stones (N.B. the lovers’ gift) which, with a summary of the adventures (!) of Eusuff and Aleefa, and his own embassy to Sind, were wrapped in the folds, tumbled upon the floor,”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that Ibn Ibrahim said to Al-Mihrjan, “Verily I found this poetry in a tale of the olden time.” So the King issued orders to smite his neck, when intercession was made for him by a Courtier hight Tá‘il al-Wasf,267 whereupon the King commanded him to jail, whither he was taken forthright. But as Ibn Ibrahim was being locked up, he said to the gaoler, “Say me, canst thou bring for me a pen-case and paper and pen?” and the other assented, fetching for him whatso he wanted. So he wrote to Prince Yusuf the following couplets,
“O Yúsuf, master mine, for safety fly;
In sorest danger Ibrahim’s son doth lie:
When from thy side for house and home he sped
Forthright bade Al-Mihrjan to bring him nigh,
And ‘mid th’ Assembly highest stead assigned
A seat in public with a sleight full sly.
A writ thou wrotest bore he on his head
Which fell and picked it up the King to ‘spy:
’Tis thus discovered he thy state and raged
With wrath and fain all guidance would defy.
Then bade he Ibrahim’s son on face be thrown
And painful beating to the bare apply;
With stripes he welted and he tare his sides
Till force waxed feeble, strength debility.
So rise and haste thee to thine own and fetch
Thy power, and instant for the tribe-lands hie;
Meanwhile I’ll busy to seduce his men
Who hear me, O thou princely born and high;
For of the painful stress he made me bear
The fire of bane I’ve sworn him even I.”
Now when Ibn Ibrahim had finished his verse, he said to the gaoler, “Do thou summon for me the son of my brother hight Manná268 and thou shalt have from me one hundred gold pieces.” The man did his bidding, and when the youth came the uncle gave him the letter and bespake him as follows: “O son of my brother, take thou this paper and fare with it to the Castle of Al-Hayfa and swim the stream, and go up to the building and enter therein and commit this missive unto a youth whom thou shalt see sitting beside the Princess. Then do thou greet him with the salam from me, and inform him of all that I am in and what I have seen and what thou hast witnessed, and for this service I will give thee an hundred gold pieces.” The nephew took the uncle’s letter and set forth from the first of the night until he drew nigh the Castle. Such was the case with Ibn Ibrahim and his sending his nephew Manna’ on a mission to the Princess; but as regards King Al-Mihrjan, when the morning morrowed and showed its sheen and shone and the sun arose with rays a-low- land strown, he sent to summon Ibn Ibrahim; and, when they set him between his hands, he adjured him saying, “O thou! by the rights of the God unique in his rule for Unity; by Him who set up the skies without prop and stay and dispread the Earths firmly upon the watery way, unless thou inform me and apprise me rightly and truly I will order thy head to be struck off this very moment.” So the cup-companion related to the King the whole affair of Princess Al-Hayfa and Prince Yusuf, and all that had passed between the twain; whereupon Al-Mihrjan asked, “And this Yusuf from what land may he be?” “He is son to the Sovran of Sind, King Sahl,” quoth the other, and quoth Al- Mihrjan, “And is he still in the Palace, or hath he gone to his own country?” “He was therein,” replied Ibn Ibrahim, “but I know not whether he be yet there, or he be gone thence.” Hereupon Al-Mihrjan commanded his host at once to mount, and all took horse and rode forth making for the Castle of Al-Hayfa. Now, between Manna and King Al-Mihrjan was a march of only a single night, when the youth went up to the Palace of the Princess, where he knocked at the door and they opened and admitted him to the presence of Prince Yusuf. There he handed to him the letter, which the Prince opened and read; then he suddenly rose up crying upon Hilal, whom when he was fetched he bade forthwith bring out his steed. Hereat cried Al-Hayfa, “I ask thee by Allah, O my lord, what may be the news?” and he answered her, “Verily when Ibn Ibrahim fared from us to his folk he was summoned on his arrival by thy sire, and he went to him and informed him of all that hath befallen us, first and last.” So saying he put the letter into her hands, and she having read it exclaimed, “O my lord, do thou take me with thee lest haply he slay me.” Answered the Prince, “O end and aim of mine every wish, we have naught with us save this one steed who availeth not to carry three; therefore will thy father overtake us upon the road and will put us to death one and all. Now the rede that is right be this, that thou conceal thyself somewhere in the Palace and charge the slave-girls when thy sire shall come hither, to tell him that I have carried thee off to mine own country, and for the rest be thou assured that I will tarry away from thee but a few days.” So saying Yusuf took his horse with him and Hilal his page a-crupper and swam the river and made for his own land pushing his pace, and presently he drew within sight of the capital. Such was the case of Prince Yusuf, son to King Sahl; but as regards the matter of King Al-Mihrjan and his host, he ceased not marching them till such time as he came within sight of the Castle of his daughter Al-Hayfa; and this was soon after the departure of Yusuf. And when he had led hither his host, which was like unto a dashing sea, he dismounted upon the river-bank that all might free themselves of their fatigue, after which he summoned Sahlub and bade him swim the stream and walk up to the Castle and knock at the door. The youth did as he was bidden, and the handmaids opened to him and greeted him as he asked for Al-Hayfa — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when Sahlub went up to the Palace, he asked of Al-Hayfa, and the slave-girls told him that a youth had come thither and had taken her away and had carried her off to his own country. So he returned to Al-Mihrjan and informed him thereof, when the King took horse with all his host and pursued Yusuf with uttermost haste and hurry until there was between the twain less than a day’s march. But as the Prince drew near his capital on the tenth day he went in to his sire and told him whatso had befallen him from incept to conclusion, nor did he hide from him aught; whereupon King Sahl mustered his many (all who received from him royal solde and allowances), and bade them take horse with his son Yusuf. The troops did accordingly and the Prince rode a-van, and after a little while the two armies met. Now Ibn Ibrahim had made a compact with five of the nobles who were the chiefest men of King Al-Mihrjan’s reign and had promised them five hundred thousand dinars. So when the two hosts were about to engage, an Emir of the Emirs came forth (and he was one of those whom Ibn Ibrahim had appointed to watch over Yusuf) and said to the Prince, “O Son of the King, verily Ibn Ibrahim hath promised five of the nobles as many hundred thousand dinars of gold the which we may take and receive from thee.” Replied he, “The like sum shall be thine from me with all thou canst ask of us.” Presently the Emir returned from him to Al-Mihrjan and said to him, “Verily I have asked this youth that he make vain and void the battle between us twain, but he assented not and sware an oath that he would never return from affray until the enemies should meet and fight it out, and that he had with him a mighty host and a conquering whose van was not known from its rear.269 Now ’tis my rede that thou strive to take him prisoner270 and then do whatso he may please, especially he being son to thee, King of the mighty Kings and with him a thousand thousand knights all mailed cap-a-pie and clothed in steel not one of whom hath any fear of fight.” King Al-Mihrjan waxed wroth at the Emir’s speech and cried, “What words be these? Shall the Kings of the Age remain saying of me that a man hath debauched the daughter of Al-Mihrjan and hath carried her away perforce despite the nose of her father? Never shall such thing be spoken of me; no, never! But do thou know, ho thou the Emir, that an ye have no taste for fray nor avail for fight and ye have no training save for bibbing of wine and ease at home, I have sworn and swear by Him who lighted the lucident fires of the Sun and the Moon, none shall sally forth to do single combat with this youth save I myself.” But when so saying he knew not that was hidden from him in the World of Secrets. Presently he rushed into the field of fight with reins floating upon his courser’s neck and he renowned it, showing himself between the foremost files, and he played with the edge of glaive and spit of spear until men’s wits were bewildered and he improvised the while and cried out the following couplets,
“Ibn Sahl, ho scion of tree abhorr’d!
Rise, meet me in mellay and prove thee lord:
My daughter hast snatched, O thou foul of deed,
And approachest me fearing the Lion of the horde.
Hadst come in honour and fairly sued
I had made her thine own with the best accord;
But this rape hath o’erwhelmed in dishonour foul
Her sire, and all bounds thou hast overscor’d.”
Now when King Al-Mihrjan finished his verse, Yusuf rushed out to him, and cried at him with a terrible cry and a terrifying, and garred his own steed bound upon the battle-plain, where he played with brand and lance until he cast into oblivion every knight, reciting in the meantime the following verses,
“I am son to Al-Sahl, O of forbears vile!
Come forth and fight me sans guile or wile;
Thou hast hurt my heart; O of deed misdone,
So thou com’st to contend with this rank and file.”271
King Al-Mihrjan re-echoed his war-cry, but hardly had he ended when Yusuf drawing near him answered it with a shout which enquaked his heart and ravished his reason with sore terror, and repeated in reply these couplets,
“I am not to be titled of forbears vile
O whose ape-like face doth the tribe defile!
Nay, I’m rending lion amid mankind,
A hero in wilds where the murks beguile.
Al-Hayfa befitteth me, only me;
Ho thou whom men for an ape272 revile,”
When Yusuf had ended these words, Al-Mihrjan rushed forth and charged down upon him, and the two drawing nigh each of the foemen set on the other with a mighty onset and a prodigious. They fought in duello and lanced out with lance and smote with sword, and dashed together as they were two ships of two mountains clashing; and they approached and retired, and the dust- cloud arose over them and they disappeared from men’s sight. But hardly had an hour passed by when Yusuf made a final attack upon his enemy and narrowed his course and barred his way and pressed him hard; and, hanging upon his flank, smote him with the scymitar upon the nape of the neck273 and caused his head to fall between his feet, when he slipt from his steed upon the ground, and he lay stone dead and in his gore drowned. Now as soon as the folk looked upon Yusuf and what he had dealt to their King and how he had made his head fly his body and had done him dead, they turned to take flight. Thereupon Yusuf recognised Sahlub the cousin of Al-Hayfa, he who had been the cause of their separation and had roused her wrath against him; so he drew near to him and smote him with the bright shining blade on the right flank, and it came forth gleaming between his left ribs; so he fell to the ground drenched with blood, and he was left prostrate in the dust. And when Yusuf had slain King Al- Mihrjan and Sahlub, his nephew, the Grandees of the realm came around him and greeted him with the salam. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
269 i.e. both could not be seen at the same time.
270 [The MS. has T Kh D H, which the translator reads “takhuz-hu.” I suspect that either the second or eighth form of “ahad” is meant, in the sense that thou comest to an agreement (Ittihád) with him. — ST.]
271 In the MS. v. 327, we find four hemistichs which evidently belong to Al-Mihrján; these are:—
Hadet come to court her in fairer guise
I had given Al-Hayfá in bestest style;
But in mode like this hast thou wrought me wrong
And made Envy gibe me with jeering smile.”
Also I have been compelled to change the next sentence, which in the original is, “And hardly had King Al-Mihrján ended his words,” etc.
272 In this doggerel, “Kurúd” (apes) occurs as a rhyme twice in three couplets.
273 “Upon the poll of his head” (‘alá hámati-hi) says the Arabian author, and instantly stultifies the words.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Grandees of King Al-Mihrjan’s reign saw their Sovran slain, they flocked to Prince Yusuf and greeted him, marvelling at his beauty and valour and excellence: then they all agreed to salute him as their Sultan and they raised him to the rank of King and sole ruler over them. Presently they led him with them, and fared seeking the city of Al-Mihrjan until they reached it, when they adorned the streets on the occasion of his coming. And King Yusuf having entered his capital took seat on the throne of his kingship and bade and forbade and deposed and appointed; and lastly freed Mohammed ibn Ibrahim from gaol, and established him his Wazir. Hereupon the new Minister displayed to him the four wives and the hundred concubines of King Al-Mihrjan, also the negro slaves, male and female, whom he found to number two hundred and four hundred. Moreover, he showed his riches and rarities and treasuries wherein were found an hundred boxes full of silk and fine linen, and parcels of pearls and rubies and jacinths and jewels and precious minerals and other wealth in abundance. So he distributed the whole amongst his nobles, and largessed them with excessive largesses; and his partisans of his subjects and his guards flocked to him with presents and offerings; and all the city-folk gave him joy and rejoiced in him. Then he commissioned Ibn Ibrahim to Al-Hayfa, daughter of King Al-Mihrjan, saying “Do thou bring her hither to me, her and her hand-maids and all that be in her palace.” Accordingly he went forth to Al-Hayfa’s Castle, and ceased not wending till he came to its entrance where he discovered that King Yusuf had appointed a craft for the river transport. And when he arrived there and found the vessel afloat he went in to Al-Hayfa and he greeted her. Then he related to her what had betided her sire from Yusuf and how the Prince had slain him after the fashion of what befel; so she cried, “There is no Majesty and no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great; and this was writ in the Book of Life!” Then she asked Ibn Ibrahim touching her mother, and he answered that she was sound and safe in her own home which she had never left nor did any one go in to her; and (added he) “she expecteth thy coming to her.” Then he bade carry down her impediments and her bondmaids and all the good that was in her Castle until nothing remained, and embarked them upon the craft; and presently, mounting her in a litter of sandal-wood plated with ruddy gold, he set her women in Howdahs;274 and, taking horse himself, he rode until they drew near the city. And when they arrived there he went up to King Yusuf whom he informed of their coming and was told, “Suffer them to be till night shall set in.” Hereupon he took patience, and when came the appointed term Al-Hayfa went up to the Palace. Now as Allah caused the morn to morrow and to light the world with its shine and sheen, King Yusuf sent to summon the Kazi and witnesses and bade them write his writ of marriage with Al-Hayfa and was wedded to her by Book and traditional Usage.275 After this Al-Hayfa sent to fetch her mother and bore her to her home and their joy and enjoyment were great and lasting. Now by the decree of the Decreer anon it befel that the Caliph Al-Maamun waxed strait of breast one night of the nights: so he summoned a certain of his courtiers whose name was Ibrahim the Cup-companion;276 but, as they found him not, he bade bring a man hight Al-Khadí‘a, and when he came between his hands quoth he to him, “’Tis a while since I have seen thee here.” Quoth the other, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have been wayfaring about the land of Syria.” Continued the Prince of True Believers, “Do thou this very night broaden the Caliph’s heart with a delectable tale;” and the other rejoined, “O Viceregent of Allah upon Earth, know thou an adventure befel me with a youth named the Veiled Yusuf of Beauty, son to King Sahl, the friendly ruler of Al-Sind, and with Al-Hayfa the daughter of King Al-Mihrjan, and ’tis a tale whose like hath never been heard; no, never.” Hereupon he related to Al-Maamun the history of the two, first and last, adding, “Furthermore, O Commander of the Faithful, I have learnt that Al-Hayfa owneth ten handmaidens whose peers are not to be found in thy Palace, and they are mistresses of all manner instruments of mirth and merriment and other matters; and amongst things said of them by their lady when they marvelled at her good fortune, ‘Verily this day I have acquired half a score of slave- girls the like of which Al-Maamun hath never collected.’” But when the Prince of True Believers heard this he gave ear to the tale anent them during the livelong night till Allah caused the morn to morrow. Then he sent for Ibrahim the Cup-companion, and to him coming into the presence the Viceregent of Allah exclaimed “Mount without stay and delay taking with thee one thousand Mamelukes and make thy way to this youth who is King of Al-Sind277 and named ‘The Veiled Yusuf of Beauty,’ and bring me his ten handmaidens. After which do thou ask concerning his case and anent his subjects, whether he be just or unjust to the lieges, and if he be righteous I will robe him in honourable robes and if otherwise do thou bring him to my presence.” Hereupon Ibrahim took leave of the Caliph and went forth at that very time and tide intending for Al-Sind, and he ceased not wending till he arrived there and found Yusuf setting out for the chase. But when the youth saw the host approaching him — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
274 Arab. “Haudaj” = a camel-litter: the word, often corrupted to Hadáj, is now applied to a rude pack-saddle, a wooden frame of mimosa-timber set upon a “witr” or pad of old tent-cloth, stuffed with grass and girt with a single cord. Vol. viii. 235, Burckhardt gives “Maksar,” and Doughty (i. 437) “Muksir” as the modern Badawi term for the crates or litters in which are carried the Shaykhly housewives.
275 In text “Sunnah” = the practice, etc., of the Prophet: vol. v. 36, 167.
276 This, as the sequel shows, is the far-famed Musician, Ibrahim of Mosul: vol. vii. 113.
277 In the text King of Al-Sín=China, and in p. 360 of MS. Yusuf is made “King of China and Sind,” which would be much like “King of Germany and Brentford.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that, when Yusuf beheld Ibrahim the Cup-companion, and those in his company, he returned to the city and took them with him; yet he knew not Ibrahim nor did Ibrahim know him. But on entering the capital he was met by his guards and his soldiers who blessed him and prayed for him length of days and permanence of rule wherefor the courtier knew him to be a just King. Yusuf led them to and lodged them in the House of Hospitality; after which returning to his own Palace he sent for Ibrahim and assembled for him a session and received him with the highmost honour that could be, and rose to him and greeted him and embraced him and accompanied him to the sitting-saloon where the twain took their places. Then Yusuf bade summon the ten handmaidens with as many instruments of music; and, sitting down begirt by them, he ordered wine be brought. So they set before him flagons and beakers of crystal and jewelled cups; and presently pointing to the first of the slave-girls whose name is not recorded, bade her recite somewhat of her pleasantest poetry. So she hent the lute in hand and set it upon her lap and swept it with a light touch and caressed it with her finger-tips and smote it after eleven modes; then she returned to the first278 and recited these couplets,
“My heart for parting ever burns with lowe;
My lids fiery with tear-floods ever flow:
Ho thou in lover’s loving ferly fair,
Cut is the road for those Love gars to glow.
How many a youth has felt his vitals torn
By slender forms and glances forceful prow?
Alas for lover slain by might of Love;
Nor friend avails nor brother true, I trow!”
When the first handmaiden had finished, Yusuf rejoiced (as did Ibrahim the Cup-companion) with excessive joy and the King bade robe her in a sumptuous robe. Hereupon she drained her cup and passed it to her compeer whose name was Takná, and this second handmaiden taking beaker in hand placed it afore her and hending the lute smote on it with many a mode; then, returning to the first279 while the wits of all were bewildered, she improvised the following verses,
“Look on the lute that ‘minds of Mangonel;
Whose strings are ropes that make each shot to tell:
And note the pipes that sound with shriek and cry,
The pipes that cast a fearful joyful spell;
Espy the flagons ranged in serried rank
And crops becrowned with wine that longs to well.”
But when Takna had finished her poetry Yusuf and Ibrahim were gladdened and the King bade largesse her with a sumptuous robe and a thousand dinars and she tossed off her cup and passed it to her successor the third handmaiden Mubdi’280 hight. She accepted it and setting it before her took the lute and smote it after manifold fashions and presently she spake these couplets,
“Love with his painful pine doth rack this frame of me;
Melts heart and maims my vitals cruel agony;
And rail my tears like cloud that rains the largest drops;
And fails my hand to find what seek I fain to see:
Thee I conjure, O Yúsuf, by Him made thee King
O Sahl-son, Oh our dearest prop, our dignity,
This man methinks hath come to part us lovers twain
For in his eyes I see the flame of jealousy.”
And when Mubdi’ had sung her song, Ibrahim the Cup-companion and King Yusuf smiled and rejoiced and anon there befel them what there befel and the two slipt down aswoon; — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that King Yusuf and Ibrahim the Cup-companion hearing the song sung by Mubdi’, the third handmaiden, both fell to the floor aswoon; and when they revived after an hour or so, Ibrahim largessed to her one thousand dinars and a robe purfled with glistening gold. Then she drained her cup and crowning it again passed it to her compeer whose name was Nasím281 and who took it and set it in front of her. Then hending in hand the lute she played upon it with manifold modes and lastly spake these couplets,
“O Blamer, blaming me for draining lonely wine,
Stint carping, I this day to Holy War incline:
Oh fair reflection she within her wine-cup shows
Her sight makes spirit dullest earthly flesh refine:
How mention her? By Allah ’tis forbid in writ
To note the meaner charms in Eden-garth divine.”
When the fourth handmaiden had ended her verse, Ibrahim gifted her with one thousand dinars and presented a sumptuous robe to her owner, then she drank off her cup and passed it to her compeer hight Al-Badr282 and she sang the following lines,
“One robbed of heart amid song and wine
And Love that smiteth with babe of eyne:
His voice to the lute shall make vitals pain
And the wine shall heal all his pangs and pine:
Hast e’er seen the vile drawing near such draught
Or miser close-fisted thereto incline?
The wine is set free in the two-handed jar283
Like sun of summer in Aries’ sign.
When she had finished Ibrahim bade reward her like the rest with gold and gear and she passed her cup to her compeer whose name was Radáh.284 The sixth handmaiden drained it and performed in four-and-twenty modes after which she sang these couplets,
“O thou wine-comrade languor cease to show;
Hand me the morning draught and ne’er foreslow;
And prize fair poesy and sweet musick hear
And shun the ‘say’ and naught of ‘said’ beknow:
The wine of day-dawn drunk with joyous throng
From house of Reason garreth Grief to go:
The man of Kays aye loved his wine right well
And from his lips made honey’d verse to flow;
And in like guise285 came Isa singing sweet
For such was custom of the long-ago.
When Radah ended her verse and her improvising of mysterious significance, and secret, King Yusuf and Ibrahim the Cup- companion tore their robes from their bodies until naught remained upon them save only the bag-breeches about their waists. Then the twain shrieked aloud and at one moment and they fell fainting to the floor, unheeding the world and their own selves from the excess of that was in their heads of wine and hearing of poetry spoken by the slave-girl. They remained in such condition for a while of time, after which they recovered though still amazed, a-drunken. Then they donned other dresses and sat down to listen as before, when Radah drained her goblet and filled and passed it to her compeer whose name was Na’ím;286 and she taking her lute, improvised the following verses,
“My poesy-gem showeth clear of shine,
When appears that pearl with cheek coralline:
’Tis marvel the cloud cannot quench the blaze
That fire in the heart and this water of eyne!
Then alas for Love who hath made me woe!
Pine that rends and racks limbs and vitals o’ mine:
O thou Well of Poetry well forth thy gems
O’er our drink when our cups overbrim with wine:
And sing in her presence, for Envy hath fled
And flies jealous spite and all joys combine.
Oh the charms of wine which enthral the mind,
Clear and clearing sprites by its sprite refined!”
When the seventh handmaiden had ended her verses, King Yusuf and Ibrahim rejoiced with exceeding joy and each of them bade gift her with a thousand gold pieces and quoth the courtier, “By Allah Almighty, none of the Emirs or of the Wazirs or of the Kings or of the Caliphs hath attained excellence like unto this handmaid.” Hereupon Na’im passed her goblet to her compeer and she, whose name was Surúr,287 tossed it off and taking in hand her lute, sang these couplets,
“How is’t with heart of me all cares waylay
As drowned in surging tears of Deluge-day?
I weep for Time endured not to us twain
As though Time’s honour did not oft betray.
O my lord Yúsuf, O my ending hope,
By Him who made thee lone on Beauty’s way,
I dread lest glorious days us twain depart
And youth’s bright world be dimmed to old and grey;
O Lord! be Parting’s palm for us undyed288
Ere death, nor carry this my lord away.”
When the eighth handmaiden had ended her song, the twain marvelled at her eloquence and were like to rend that was upon them of raiment — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
281 The Zephyr, or rather the cool north breeze of upper Arabia, vol. viii. 62.
282 The “Full Moon”; plur. Budúr: vols. iii., 228, iv., 249.
283 “Dann” = amphora, Gr. {Greek letters} = having two handles.
284 “The large-hipped,” a form of Rádih.
285 In text “Minba’ada-hu” making Jesus of later date than Imr al-Kays.
286 i.e. “The Delight”: also a P.N. of one of the Heavens: vols. iii. 19; iv. 143.
287 i.e. Joy, Contentment.
288 In text “Lá khuzibat Ayday al-Firák,” meaning, “may separation never ornament herself in sign of gladness at the prospect of our parting.” For the Khazíb-dye see vol. iii. 105.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and goodwill!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that King Yusuf and Ibrahim the Cup-companion were like to rend that was upon them of raiment and they joyed with extreme joy after hearing what Surur had sung to them. Hereupon she passed her cup to her fellow, hight Zahrat al-Hayy,289 who took it and recited as follows,
“O cup-boy, I crave thee cup-comrade to be
And hearten my heart of its malady;
Nor pass me the bowls for I sorely dread
when drunken all dolours of Love- lowe to dree,
To be vilely reviled in the sittings of men,
To be frowardly treated where zephyrs play free.
God-blest is the Lute for her melodies
Which pain me with painfullest penalty,
With the jewels of speech whose transcendent charms
Like fires of Jahím290 burn the vitals of me.
By Allah, show ruth, be compassionate,
For Allah deals pardon compassionately.
Yusuf and Ibrahim, hearing her words, were gladdened with excessive gladness and cried to the ninth handmaid, “May the lord be copious to thee like the fruitful years!” Then the Cup- companion bade gift her with one thousand gold pieces as like- wise did her lord. Hereupon she passed her cup to the tenth handmaiden known as Muhjat al-Kulúb291 who fell to improvising these couplets,
“O Blamer, who canst not my case explain;
Cease, for who blame friends shall of blame complain;
And whoso unknoweth the workings of Love
Mankind shall reckon him mean and vain:
Alas for Love, O ye tribe-landers, I
Am weaned that wont nipples of union to drain.
I have learnt the whole of Love’s governance
Since my baby days amid cradles lain.
Forbear by Allah to ask of my state
How shall morn one banned with debtor bane?
O thou jewel of speech, O thou Yúsuf, laud
To the Lord who robed thee with charms amain!
Deign the God of ‘Arsh make thy days endure
In wealth and honour sans pause or wane;
E’en as Ishak’s son292 every gift conjoined
Amid men, making rulers to serve him fain.”
When Muhjat al-Kulub ended her song, Yusuf gifted her with a splendid robe and a thousand gold pieces as eke did Ibrahim and presently the courtier said to the handmaiden, “Who is Ibrahim that thou shouldst sing of him in song?” She replied, “Walláhi, O my lord, he is son of Ishak, amongst the pleasant ones sans peer and a cup-companion to the Caliphs dear and the pearl concealed and the boon friend of our lord the Commander of the Faithful Al-Maamún and his familiar who to him joy and enjoyment maketh known. Ah! happy the man who can look upon him and forgather with him and company with him before his death; and verily by Allah he is the Master of the Age and the one Wonder of the World. Moreover, by the Almighty, O my lord, wert thou to see this lute fall into his hands, thou wouldst hear it converse in every language with the tongues of birds and beasts and of the sons of Adam: and well nigh would the place dance ere he had improvised a word. And he the horizons can make to joy and lovers with overlove can destroy, nor shall any after his decease such excellence of speech employ.” All this, and Muhjat al-Kulub knew not who was sitting beside them as she went on to praise Ibrahim. Hereupon he took the lute from her hand and smote it till thou hadst deemed that within the instrument lurked babes of the Jinns293 which were crying and wailing while spake the strings, and in fine King Yusuf imagined that the palace had upflown with them between heaven and earth. And the handmaidens sang to his tunes in sore astonishment; when Ibrahim designed to talk but King Yusuf cut kin short and fell to saying poetry in these couplets,
“By the rights of our lord who shows ruth in extreme,
And Giver and Guide and boon Prophet we deem,
And by Ka’abah resplendent and all its site
And by Zemzem, Safa and the wall Hatim,
Lo! thou’rt hight Ibrahim, and suppose I say
Thee sooth, my wits thou must surely esteem:
And thy face shows signalled with clearest eyne
Deliv’rance followed by Yá and Mím.”294
Now Ibrahim kept his secret and did not manifest himself to any, but presently he also improvised and spake in these words preserving the measure and rhyme,
“By him who chose Musà, the Speaker,295 by Him
who made296 Háshimite orphan select and supreme!
Ibrahim am I not, but I deem this one
The Caliph who sits by Baghdadian stream;
Of his grace the heir of all eloquent arts
And no partner hath he in all gifts that beseem.”
And when Ibrahim had finished his verses, Yusuf said to him, “By the virtue of Almighty Allah, an I guess aright and my shot297 go not amiss, thou art Ibrahim the musician;” but the courtier retained his incognito and replied, “O my lord, Ibrahim is my familiar friend and I am a man of Al-Basrah who hath stolen from him sundry of his modes and airs for the lute and other instruments and I have the practice of improvisation.” Now when Ibrahim was speaking behold, there came one of the Caliph’s pages and he walked up to the head of the assembly bearing with him a letter, which he handed to his lord. But Yusuf put forth his hand and took it, and after reading the superscription he learnt that his companion was Ibrahim without doubt or mistake, so he said to him, “By Allah, O my lord, verily thou hast slighted me, for that thou hast not informed me of thyself.” Quoth the other, “By Allah, I feared from thee lest I give thee excess of trouble;” and quoth Yusuf, “Do thou take to thee all these handmaids whom the Commander of the Faithful hath bid thee receive.” Ibrahim replied, “Nay, I will not accept from thee the hand- maidens but rather will I fend from thee the Prince of True Believers;” however, King Yusuf rejoined, “I have gifted them to the Viceregent of Allah: an thou take them not I will send them by other than thyself.” Presently King Yusuf set apart for the Caliph great store of gifts, and when the handmaidens heard of that they wept with sore weeping. Ibrahim, hearing their wailing, found it hard to bear, and he also shed tears for the sobbing and crying of them; and presently he exclaimed, “Allah upon thee, O Yusuf leave these ten handmaidens by thee and I will be thy ward with the Prince of True Believers.” But Yusuf answered, “Now by the might of Him who stablished the mountains stable, unless thou bear them away with thee I will despatch them escorted by another.” Hereupon Ibrahim took them and farewelled King Yusuf and fared forth and hastened his faring till the party arrived at Baghdad, the House of Peace, where he went up into the Palace of the Commander of the Faithful — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
289 i.e. “Bloom or the Tribe.” “Zahrat”=a blossom especially yellow and commonly applied to orange-flower. In line 10 of the same page the careless scribe calls the girl “Jauharat (Gem) of the Tribe.”
290 For this Hell, see vol. viii. 111.
291 “Core” or “Life-blood of Hearts.”
292 Presently explained.
293 In text “Afrákh al-Jinn,” lit.=Chicks of the Jinns, a mere vulgarism: see “Farkh ‘Akrab,” vol. iv. 46.
294 “Ibráa” = deliverance from captivity, etc. Yá = í, and Mím = m, composing the word “Ibrahím.” The guttural is concealed in the Hamzah of Ibráa, a good illustration of Dr. Steingass’s valuable remarks in Terminal Essay, pp. 235, 236.
295 “Kalím” = one who speaks with another, a familiar. Moses’ title is Kalímu’llah on account of the Oral Law and certain conversations at Mount Sinai.
296 In text “Istífá” = choice, selection: hence Mustafà = the Chosen Prophet, Mohammcd; vols i. 7; ii. 40.
297 In text “Jazr” = cutting, strengthening, flow (of tide).
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when Ibrahim reached Baghdad and went up to the Palace of the Commander of the Faithful and stood in the presence he was asked, “What hast thou brought for us from thy journey, O Ibrahim?” whereto he answered, “O our lord, I have come to thee with all thou willest and wishest that of rede be right and of word apposite.” Quoth he, “And what may that be?” and quoth the other, “The ten handmaids:” and so saying he set them before the Caliph, whereupon they kissed ground and did him suit and service and deprecated for him and greeted him with blessings, and each and every of them addressed him in tongue most eloquent and with theme most prevalent. The Prince of True Believers hugely admired them, marvelling at their deftness of address and their sweetness of speech which he had never witnessed in any other; and he was delighted with their beauty and loveliness and their stature and symmetrical grace, and he wondered with extreme wonderment how their lord had consented they should be brought before him. Then cried he, “O Ibrahim, what hath been thy case with the owner of these damsels, and did he commit them to thee despite himself in anger and care or with resignation of mind and broadening of bosom and joy and satisfaction?” “O my lord,” said Ibrahim, “verily he made them over to me in none except the best of dispositions, and Allah give him length of life for a youth! How benign was his countenance and how beautiful, and how perfect and how liberal were his hands and prompt to act, and how excellent were his wits and how goodly and gracious was his society and how yielding was his nature and how great was his dignity and how just were his dealings with his lieges! By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, when I went to him from thee I found him outside his city intending for the hunt and chase and about to enjoy himself in pleasurable case, but seeing our coming he met me and salam’d to me and greeted me and rejoiced in me with extreme joy. All this, and he knew me not nor did I on my part know him; but he took me with him and returned to town, and as we entered he was met by the Lords of the land and the lieges who prayed for him; so I knew that man to be their King and Captain of commandment, also that he was equitable to his subjects. Then he made me alight in his House of Hospitality, and went up into his Palace, after which he sent to call me and I obeyed his summons, when he set apart for me an apartment under his own roof and taking me by the hand led me thereto, where I found everything the best that could be. Anon he despatched for us wine and wax candles and perfumes and fruits fresh and dry and whatnot of that which becometh such assembly; and, when this was done, he bade summon the ten handmaidens, and they also took their seats in the session, and they smote their instruments and they sang verse wherein each one excelled her companion. But one of them insisted in her song upon the name of me, saying, ‘None availeth to compose such lines save Ibrahim the Cup-companion, the son of Ishak.’ Now I had denied myself to their lord and acquainted him not with my name; but when the damsel had finished her verse, I largessed to her a thousand gold pieces and asked her, ‘Who may be this Ibrahim whereat thou hast hinted in thy song?’ Said she, ‘He is the boon-companion of the Caliph and he is unique among the pleasant’; then she fell to praising me with praise galore than which naught could be more, unknowing me the while, until I took the lute from her hand and smote it with a touch unlike their play. Hereby their lord discovered me and said in his verse, ‘Thou art Ibrahim without doubt or mistake’; but still I denied myself, replying, ‘I am a man from Al-Basrah and a familiar of Ibrahim the Master-Musician’: And on this wise I answered him, when behold, there came up to us a page bearing a rescript from thee. So King Yusuf took it from his hand and read the address when he made certain that I was Ibrahim, the Cup-companion, and having learnt my name he blamed me saying, ‘O Ibrahim, thou hast denied thyself to me.’ ‘O my lord,’ I replied, ’Twas that I feared for thee excess of trouble’; after which quoth he, ‘Verily these ten damsels are a free gift from me to the Commander of the Faithful.’ Hearing these words I refused to receive them and promised on my return to the Caliph that I would defend their lord from all detraction, but he cried, ‘O Ibrahim, unless thou take them I will forward them with other than thyself’ And lastly, O Prince of True Believers, he presented to me fifty slave-girls and as many Mamelukes and an hundred and fifty negro-serviles and twenty steeds of purest blood, with their housings and furniture, and four hundred she-camels and twenty pods of musk.”298 Then having told his tale, the Cup-companion fell to commending Yusuf, and the Caliph inclined ear to him admiring at this man and his generosity and his openness of hand and the eloquence of his tongue and the excellence of his manners, until Al-Maamun desired to forgather with him and work him weal and gift him with liberal gifts. Presently the Caliph bade summon the ten handmaidens and the hour was past supper-tide, at which time Ibrahim the Cup-companion was seated beside him without other being present. And as soon as the girls came before him the Caliph bade them take their seats, and when they obeyed his order the wine cups went merrily round, and the ten were directed to let him hear somewhat of their chaunting and playing. So they fell to smiting their instruments of mirth and merriment and singing their songs, one after other, and each as she ended her poetry touched the Caliph with delight until it came to the last of them, who was hight Muhjat al-Kulúb; — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
298 In the text “Náfishah” Pers. “Náfah,” derived, I presume, from “Náf” = belly or testicle, the part which in the musk-deer was supposed to store up the perfume.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the last poetical piece recited by the ten damsels to the Commander of the Faithful was by Muhjat al-Kulub; and he upon hearing it rose at once to his feet and shrieked and fell aswoon for an hour of time. And when he recovered he cried, “By Allah, O Muhjat al-Kulub and Oh of eyne the coolth, do thou repeat to me what thou hast said.” Hereupon she touched her instrument with another touch accompanying the repetition of her poetry in a style wholly unlike the first, and she repeated her song in the mode and form Nahawand.299 But when the Caliph heard her, his wits were wildered, and he rent that was upon him of raiment, and he fell fainting to the floor until Ibrahim the Cup-companion and the ten handmaidens deemed him dead. But as he revived after an hour of time he said to the handmaiden, “O Muhjat al-Kulub, ask and it shall be granted to thee. “I pray,” quoth she, “first of Allah and then of the Commander of the Faithful that he restore us, all the ten, unto our lord;” and he granted her request after he had gifted them all and largessed them.300 He also wrote to their owner, King Yusuf, a royal Rescript appointing him Sultan over all the kingdoms that were in and about the land of Al-Sind; and moreover that whenas the Caliph might be absent from his good city of Baghdad, Yusuf should take his place in bidding and forbidding and ordering and governing. This ended, he despatched the ten slave-girls with a body of his Chamberlains after giving them wealth galore and of presents and rarities great store; and they fared forth from him and ceased not faring till they reached the city of Al-Sind. Now when the ten handmaidens drew nigh thereto they sent to inform King Yusuf of their coming, and he commissioned his Wazir Mohammed bin Ibrahim to meet and receive them, and he caused them enter the Palace, wondering the while that his ten bondswomen had not found favour with the Prince of True Believers. So he summoned them to his presence and asked them thereanent, and they answered by relating all that had befallen them; and presently Muhjat al-Kulub presented to him the Royal Rescript, and when he read it he increased in joy and delight.301 Now302 when supper was over the Prince of True Believers said to Ibn Ahyam, “Needs must thou relate unto us a story which shall solace us; and said the other, “O Commander of the Faithful, I have heard a tale touching one of the Kings.” “What is that?” asked the Caliph, whereupon Ibn Ahyam fell to relating the adventures of
299 For ‘Nahávand,” the celebrated site in Al-Irak where the Persians sustained their final defeat at the hands of the Arabs A.H. 21. It is also one of the many musical measures, like the Ispaháni, the Rásti, the Rayháni, the Búsalik, the Navá, etc., borrowed from the conquered ‘Ajamí.
300 This second half of the story is laid upon the lines of “The Man of Al-Yaman and his six Slave-girls”: vol. iv. 245.
301 This history again belongs to the class termed “Abtar = tailless. In the text we find for all termination, “After this he (Yúsuf) invited Mohammed ibn Ibrahim to lie that night in the palace.” Scott (vi. 364) ends after his own fashion:—“They (the ten girls) recited extempore verses before the caliph, but the subject of each was so expressive of their wish to return to their beloved sovereign, and delivered in so affecting a manner, that Mamoon, though delighted with their wit and beauty, sacrificed his own pleasure to their feelings, and sent them back to Eusuff by the officer who carried the edict, confirming him in his dominions, where the prince of Sind and the fair Aleefa continued long, amid a nnmerous progeny, to live the protectors of their happy subjects.”
302 This tale is headless as the last is tailless. We must suppose that soon after Mohammed ibn Ibrahim had quitted the Caliph, taking away the ten charmers, Al-Maamun felt his “breast straitened” and called for a story upon one of his Ráwís named Ibn Ahyam. This name is repeated in the text and cannot be a clerical error for Ibn Ibrahim.
Whilome there was a King in the land of Al-Sín and he had three male children to whose mother befel a mysterious malady. So they summoned for her Sages and leaches of whom none could understand her ailment and she abode for a while of time strown upon her couch. At last came a learned physician to whom they described her disorder and he declared, “Indeed this sickness cannot be healed save and except by the Water of Life, a treasure that can be trove only in the land Al-‘Irák.” When her sons heard these words they said to their sire, “There is no help but that we make our best endeavour and fare thither and thence bring for our mother the water in question.” Hereupon the King gat ready for them a sufficiency of provaunt for the way and they farewelled him and set forth intending for Barbarian-land.304 The three Princes ceased not travelling together for seven days, at the end of which time one said to other, “Let us separate and let each make search in a different stead, so haply shall we hit upon our need.” So speaking they parted after dividing their viaticum and, bidding adieu to one another, each went his own way. Now the eldest Prince ceased not wending over the wastes and none directed him to a town save after a while when his victual was exhausted and he had naught remaining to eat. At that time he drew near to one of the cities where he was met at the entrance by a Jewish man who asked him saying, “Wilt thou serve, O Moslem?” Quoth the youth to himself, “I will take service and haply Allah shall discover to me my need.” Then said he aloud, “I will engage myself to thee;” and said the Jew, “Every day thou shalt serve me in yonder Synagogue, whose floor thou shalt sweep and clean its mattings and rugs and thou shalt scour the candlesticks.” “‘Tis well,” replied the Prince, after which he fell to serving in the Jew’s house, until one day of the days when his employer said to him, “O Youth, I will bargain with thee a bargain.” “And what may that be?” asked the young Prince, and the man answered, “I will condition with thee for thy daily food a scone and a half but the broken loaf thou shalt not devour nor shalt thou break the whole bread; yet do thou eat thy sufficiency and whoso doth contrary to our agreement we will flay305 his face. So, an it be thy desire to serve, thou art welcome.” Now of his inexperience the Prince said to him, “We will serve thee;” whereupon his employer rationed him with a scone and a half and went forth leaving him in the Synagogue. When it was noon the youth waxed anhungered so he ate the loaf and a half; and about mid-afternoon the Jew came to him and finding that he had devoured the bread asked him thereanent and the other answered, “I was hungry and I ate up all.” Cried the Jew, “I made compact with thee from the beginning that thou shouldst eat neither the whole nor the broken,” and so saying he fared forth from him and presently brought a party of Jews, who in that town numbered some fifty head, and they seized the youth and slew him and bundling up the body in a mat306 set it in a corner of the synagogue. Such was his case; but as regards the Cadet Prince, he ceased not wayfaring and wending from town to town until Fate at last threw him into the same place where his brother had been slain and perchance as he entered it he found the same Jew standing at the Synagogue-door. The man asked him, “Wilt thou serve, O Moslem?” and as the youth answered “Yea verily,” he led the new comer to his quarters. After this the Jew had patience for the first day and the second day — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
303 Scott (vi. 366) “Adventures of the Three Princes, sons of the Sultan of China.”
304 In the text “‘Ajam,” for which see vol. i. 2, 120. Al-Irak, I may observe, was the head-quarters of the extensive and dangerous Khárijite heresy; and like Syria has ever a bad name amongst orthodox Moslems.
305 In the Arab. “Salkh,” meaning also a peculiar form of circumcision, for which see Pilgrimage iii. 80-81. The Jew’s condition was of course a trick, presenting an impossibility and intended as a mere pretext for murdering an enemy to his faith. Throughout the Eastern world this idea prevails, and both Sir Moses Montefiore and M. Cremieux were utterly at fault and certainly knew it when they declared that Europe was teaching it to Asia. Every Israelite community is bound in self-defence, when the murder of a Christian child or adult is charged upon any of its members, to court the most searching enquiry and to abate the scandal with all its might.
306 The text has “Fí Kíb,” which Scott (vol. vi. 367) renders “a mat.” [According to the Muhít “Kíb” is a small thick mat used to produce shade, pl. “Kiyáb” and “Akyáb.” The same authority says the word is of Persian origin, but this seems an error, unless it be related to “Keb” with the Yá majhúl, which in the Appendix to the Burháni Káti’ is given as synonymous with “Pech,” twist, fold. Under “Bardí"==papyrus the Muhít mentions that this is the material from which the mats known by the name of “Akyáb” are made.-ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King’s son tarried with the Jewish man the first day and the second day, after which his employer did with him even as he had done by his brother before him; to wit, he slew him and wrapping him in a mat placed his corpse beside that of the eldest Prince. On this wise it happed to these twain; but as regards the youngest of the three, he ceased not travelling from town to town and enduring excessive fatigue and hunger and nakedness until by decree of Destiny and by determination of the Predestinator he was thrown into the hands of the same Jew whom he found standing at the Synagogue-door. Here the man accosted him, saying, “Wilt thou serve, O Moslem?” and the Youth agreeing he imposed upon him the same pact which he had made with his two brothers, and the Prince said “’Tis well, O Master.” Then quoth the Jew, “Do thou sweep the Synagogue and cleanse it and shake out the mats and rugs;” and quoth the other, “Good!” But when the Prince left him and went into the building, his glance fell upon the two bundles of matting wherein were wrapped the corpses of his brothers, so he drew near to them and, raising a corner of the covering, found the bodies stinking and rotten. Hereat he arose and fared forth the Synagogue and opening a pit in the ground took up his brothers (and he sorrowing over them and weeping) and buried them. Then he returned to the building and, rolling up the mats, heaped them together and so with the rugs, after which he built a fire under them until the whole were burnt and after he took down the candlesticks one and all and brake them to bits. Now when it was mid-afternoon behold, the Jew came to the Synagogue and found a bonfire and all the furniture thereof lying in ashes and when he saw this he buffeted his face and cried, “Wherefore, O Moslem, hast thou done on such wise?” Replied the youth, “Thou hast defrauded me, O Master,” and rejoined the Jew, “I have not cheated thee of aught. However, O Moslem, hie thee home and bid thy mistress slaughter a meat-offering and cook it and do thou bring it hither forthright.” “‘Tis well, O my Master,” said the Prince. Now the Jew had two boy children in whom he delighted and the youth going to his house knocked at the door which was opened to him by the Jewess and she asked, “What needest thou?” Quoth the Prince to the Jew’s wife, “O my mistress, my master hath sent me to thee saying, ‘Do thou slaughter the two lambs that are with thee and fifty chickens and an hundred pair307 of pigeons,’ for all the masters are with him in the Synagogue and ’tis his desire to circumcise the boys.”308 The Jew’s wife replied to him, “And who shall slaughter me all this?” when he rejoined, “I will.” So she brought out to him the lambs and the chickens and the pigeons and he cut the throats of all. The Jewess hereupon arose and cried upon her neighbours to aid her in the cooking until the meats were well done and all were dished up. Then the youth hending the ten porcelain plates in hand went with them to a house in the Ghetto309 and rapped at the door and said, “My Master hath sent all these to you.” Meanwhile the Jew was in the Synagogue unknowing of such doings; and as the Prince was setting down the last of the plates which he carried with him, behold! the Jew came to that house because he had noticed his servant’s absence, so he repaired thither to see concerning the business of the meat offering wherewith he had charged him. He found his home in a state of pother and up-take and down-set and he asked the folk, “What is the matter?” They related the whole to him and said, “Thou sentest to demand such-and-such,” and when he heard this case he beat his face with his brogue310— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
307 The text has here “Wasayah,” probably a clerical error for “wa Miah” (spelt Máyah”), and a hundred pair of pigeons. — ST.]
308 Showing utter ignorance of the Jewish rite which must always be performed by the Mohel, an official of the Synagogue duly appointed by the Sheliach==legatus; and within eight days after birth. The rite consists of three operations. Milah==the cut; Priah==tearing the foreskin and Messízah==applying styptics to the wound. The latter process has become a matter of controversy and the Israelite community of Paris, headed by the Chief Rabbi, M. Zadoc Kahin, has lately assembled to discuss the question. For the difference between Jewish and Moslem circumcision see vol. v. 209.
309 The Jewish quarter (Hárah), which the Israelites themselves call “Hazer,"==a court-yard, an enclosure. In Mayer’s valuable “Conversations-lexicon” the Italian word is derived from the Talmudic “Ghet”==divorce, separation (as parting the Hebrews from the rest of the population) and the Rev. S. R. Melli, Chief Rabbi of Trieste, has kindly informed me that the word is Chaldaic.
310 [Ar. “Sarmújah,” from Persian “Sar-múzah,” a kind of hose or gaiter worn over a boot. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that, when the Jew came to his home and looked around, he found it in the condition which the youth had contrived, so he beat his face with his brogue and cried, “O the ruin of my house!” Suddenly the prince entered and his employer asked him “Wherefore doest thou on such wise, O Moslem?” Answered the youth, “Verily thou hast defrauded me,” and rejoined the other, “No; I have not cheated thee on any wise.” Then said the Jew in his mind:—“Needs must I set a snare for this youth and slay him;” so he went in to his wife and said, “Spread for us our beds upon the terrace-roof; and we will take thereto the young Moslem, our servant, and cause him lie upon the edge, and when he is drowned in slumber we will push him between us and roll him along the floor till he fall down from the terrace and break to bits his neck.” Now by fiat of Fate the youth was standing and overhearing311 their words. As soon as it was night-time the woman arose and spread the beds upon the roof according as her husband had charged her do; but about midafternoon the Prince bought him half a pound of filberts and placed them with all care and circumspection in his breast-pocket. Presently the Jew said to him, “O Moslem, we design to sleep in the open air, for the weather is now summery;” and said he, “’Tis well, O my Master.” Hereupon the Jew and the Jewess and the children and the Prince their servant went up to the roof and the first who lay him down was the house-master, placing his wife and children beside him. Then said he to the youth, “Do thou sleep here upon the side,”312 when the Prince brought the filberts out of his breast-pocket and cracked them with his teeth, and as often as they repeated to him, “Arise, O Moslem, and take thy place on the couch,” he answered them, “Whenas I shall have eaten these filberts.” He ceased not watching them till all had lain down and were fast asleep, when he took his place on the bed between the mother and the two boys. Presently the Jew awoke, and thinking that the youth was sleeping on the edge, he pushed his wife, and his wife pushed the servant, and the servant pushed the children towards the terrace-marge, and both the little ones fell over and their brain-pans313 were broken and they died. The Jew hearing the noise of the fall fancied that none had tumbled save his servant the young Moslem; so he rose in joy and awoke his wife saying, “Indeed the youth hath rolled off the terrace-roof and hath been killed.” Hereat the woman sat up, and not finding her boys beside her, whilst the Prince still lay there she wailed and shrieked and buffeted her cheeks, and cried to her husband, “Verily none hath fallen save the children.” Hereat he jumped up and attempted to cast the youth from the roof; but he, swiftlier than the lightning, sprang to his feet and shouted at the Jew and filled him with fear, after which he stabbed him with a knife which was handy, and the other fell down killed and drowned in the blood he had spilled. Now the Jew’s wife was a model of beauty and of loveliness and stature and perfect grace, and when the King’s son turned upon her and designed to slay her, she fell at his feet, and kissing them, placed herself under his protection. Hereupon the youth left her alive, saying to himself, “This be a woman and indeed she must not be mishandled;”314 and the Jewess asked him, “O my lord, what is the cause of thy doing on this wise? At first thou camest to me and toldest me the untruth, such-and-such falsehoods, and secondly, thou wroughtest for the slaughter of my husband and children.” Answered he, “In truth thy man slew my two brothers wrongously and causelessly!” Now when the Jewess heard of this deed she enquired of him, “And art thou their very brother?” and he replied, “In good sooth they were my brethren;” after which he related to her the reason of their faring from their father to seek the Water of Life for their mother’s use. Hereat she cried, “By Allah, O my lord, the wrong was with my mate and not with thee; but the Decreed chevisance doth need, nor is there flight from it indeed; so do thou abide content. However, as regards the Water in question, it is here ready beside me, and if thou wilt carry me along with thee to thy country I will give thee that same, which otherwise I will withhold from thee; and haply my wending with thee may bring thee to fair end.” Quoth the Prince in his mind, “Take her with thee and peradventure she shall guide thee to somewhat of good:” and thereupon promised to bear her away. So she arose and led him into a closet where she showed him all the hoards of the Jew, ready moneys and jewellery and furniture and raiment; and everything that was with her of riches and resources she committed to the young Prince, amongst these being the Water of life. So they bore away the whole of that treasure and he also carried off the Jewess, who was beautiful exceedingly, none being her peer in that day. Then they crossed the wilds and the wastes, intending for the land of Al-Sín, and they persevered for a while of time. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
311 [Arab. “Yastanít,” aor. to the preter. “istanat,” which has been explained, supra, p. 24. — ST.]
312 The bed would be made of a carpet or thin mattress strewn upon the stucco flooring of the terrace-roof. But the ignorant scribe overlooks the fact that by Mosaic law every Jewish house must have a parapet for the “Sakf” (flat roof), a precaution neglected by Al-Islam.
313 Good old classical English. In the “Breeches Bible” (A.D. 1586) we read, “But a certaine woman cast a piece of millstone upon Abimelech’s head and broke his brain-panne” Judges ix. 33).
314 [The words “‘Irz,” protection, in the preceding sentence, “Hurmah” and “Shatáráh” explain each other mutually. The formula “fí ‘irzak” (vulg. “arzak”), I place myself under thy protection, implies an appeal to one’s honour ("‘Irz”). Therefore the youth says: “Inna házih Hurmah lam ‘alay-há Shatárah,” i.e. “Truly this one is a woman” (in the emphatic sense of a sacred or forbidden object; “this woman” would be “házih al-Hurmah”), “I must not act vilely or rashly towards her,” both vileness and rashness belonging to the many significations of “Shatárah,” which is most usually “cleverness.” — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the young Prince ceased not wayfaring until the twain drew near to the capital of China315 where, by the fiat of Fate and the sealed decree of Destiny, on entering the walls he found that his father had fared to the mercy of Allah Almighty, and that the city, being Kingless, had become like unto a flock of sheep lacking shepherd. Moreover he was certified that the Lords of his father’s land and the Grandees of the realm and all the heges were in the uttermost confusion. He went up to the palace and forgathered with his mother, and seeing that she had not been healed of her sickness, he brought her out the Water of Life and gave her to drink some little thereof whereby health returned to her and she rose from her couch and took seat and salam’d to him and asked concerning his brethren. However he concealed his secret thereanent fearing lest it induce in her weakly state a fresh attack and discovered to her naught but said, “Verily, we parted at such a place in order to seek the Water of Life.” Then she looked upon his companion the Jewess (and she cast in the mould of loveliness) and she questioned him concerning the woman and he recounted to her the whole affair, first and last, still concealing for the reason aforesaid, the fate of his brothers. Now on the second day the bruit went abroad throughout the city that the King’s son had returned; so the Wazirs and Emirs and the Lords of the land and all who had their share in governance forgathered with him and they set him as King and Sultan in the stead of his sire. He took seat on the throne of his Kingship and bade and forbade and raised and deposed and so tarried for a while of time, until one day of the days when he determined to enjoy the hunt and chase and divert himself in pleasurable case.316 So he and his host rode forth the city when his glance fell upon a Badawi girl who was standing with the Shaykh her father considering his retinue; and the age of the maiden might have mastered thirteen years. But as soon as the King looked upon the girl love of her upon his heart alighted, and he was thereby engrossed, for she was perfect in beauty and comeliness. Hereupon he returned to his palace and sending for her father asked her of him in marriage; the Shaykh, however, answered saying, “O our lord the Sultan, I will not give up my daughter save to one who hath a handicraft of his own,317 for verily trade is a defence against poverty and folk say, ‘Handicraft an it enrich not still it veileth.’”318 Hereupon the King took thought in himself and said to the Shaykh, “O Man, I am Sovran and Sultan and with me is abundant good;” but the other replied, “O King of the Age, in King-craft there is no trust.” However, of his exceeding love to the girl the Sultan presently summoned the Shaykh of the Mat-makers and learnt from him the craft of plaiting and he wove these articles of various colours both plain and striped.319 After this he sent for the father of the damsel and recounted to him what he had done and the Shaykh said to him “O King of the Age, my daughter is in poor case and you are King and haply from some matter may befal a serious matter; moreover the lieges may say, ‘Our King hath wived with a Badawi girl.’” “O Shaykh,” replied the King, “all men are the sons of Adam and Eve.” Hereupon the Badawi granted to him his daughter and got ready her requisites in the shortest possible time and when the marriage-tie was tied the King went in unto her and found her like unto a pearl.320 So he rejoiced in her and felt his heart at rest and after tarrying with her a full-told year, one chance day of the days he determined to go forth in disguise and to wander about town and solace himself with its spectacles alone and unattended. So he went into the vestiary where the garments were kept and doffing his dress donned a garb which converted him into a Darwaysh. After this he fared forth in early morning to stroll around the streets and enjoy the sights of the highways and markets, yet he knew not what was hidden from him in the World of the Future. Now when it was noon-tide he entered a street which set off from the Bazar and yet was no thoroughfare,321 and this he followed up until he reached the head and end, where stood a cook322 making Kabábs. So he said to himself, “Enter yon shop and dine therein.” He did so and was met by sundry shopmen who seeing him in Darwaysh’s garb welcomed him and greeted him and led him within, when he said to them, “I want a dinner.” “Upon the head and the eyes be it,” they replied, and conducting him into a room within the shop showed him another till he came to the place intended, when they said to him, “Enter herein, O my lord.” So he pushed open the door and finding in the closet a matting and a prayer-rug323 spread thereupon he said to himself, “By Allah, this is indeed a secret spot, well concealed from the eyes of folk.” Then he went up to the prayer-rug and would have sat down upon it after pulling off his papooshes, but hardly had he settled himself in his seat when he fell through the floor for a depth of ten fathoms. And while falling he cried out, “Save me, O God the Saviour;” for now he knew that the people of that place only pretended to make Kababs and they had digged a pit within their premises. Also he was certified that each and every who came in asking for dinner were led to that place where they found the prayer-rug bespread and supposed that it was set therein for the use of the diners. But when the Sultan fell from his seat into the souterrain, he was followed by the thieves who designed to murther him and to carry off his clothes, even as they had done to many others. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
315 In the text “Sind,” still confounding this tale with the preceding.
316 In text “Intihába ‘l furas,” lit.==the snatching of opportunities, a jingle with “Kanas.”
317 [Compare with this episode the viith of Spitta Bey’s Tales: Histoire du Prince qui apprit un métier. — ST.]
318 i.e. enables a man to conceal the pressure of impecuniosity.
319 In text “Al-Sádah wa al-Khatáyát.”
320 Subaudi, “that hath not been pierced.” “The first night,” which is often so portentous a matter in England and upon the Continent (not of North America), is rarely treated as important by Orientals. A long theoretical familiarity with the worship of Venus
Leaves not much mystery for the nuptial night.
Such lore has been carefully cultivated by the “young person” with the able assistance of the ancient dames of the household, of her juvenile companions and co-evals and especially of the slave-girls. Moreover not a few Moslems, even Egyptians, the most lecherous and salacious of men, in all ranks of life from prince to peasant take a pride in respecting the maiden for a few nights after the wedding-feast extending, perhaps to a whole week and sometimes more. A brutal haste is looked upon as “low”; and, as sensible men, they provoke by fondling and toying Nature to speak ere proceeding to the final and critical act. In England it is very different. I have heard of brides over thirty years old who had not the slightest suspicion concerning what complaisance was expected of them: out of mauvaise honte, the besetting sin of the respectable classes, neither mother nor father would venture to enlighten the elderly innocents. For a delicate girl to find a man introducing himself into her bedroom and her bed, the shock must be severe and the contact of hirsute breast and hairy limbs with a satiny skin is a strangeness which must often breed loathing and disgust. Too frequently also, instead of showing the utmost regard for virginal modesty and innocence (alias ignorance), the bridegroom will not put a check upon his passions and precipitates matters with the rage of the bull, ruentis in venerem. Even after he hears “the cry” which, as the Arabs say, “must be cried,” he has no mercy: the newly made woman lies quivering with mental agitation and physical pain, which not a few describe as resembling the tearing out of a back-tooth, and yet he insists upon repeating the operation, never supposing in his stupidity, that time must pass before the patient can have any sensation of pleasure and before the glories and delights of the sensual orgasm bathe her soul in bliss. Hence complaints, dissatisfaction, disgust, mainly caused by the man’s fault, and hence not unfrequently a permanent distaste for the act of carnal congress. All women are by no means equally capable of such enjoyment, and not a few have become mothers of many children without ever being or becoming thoroughly reconciled to it. Especially in the case of highly nervous temperaments — and these seem to be increasing in the United States and notably in New England — the fear of nine months’ pains and penalties makes the sex averse to the “deed of kind.” The first child is perhaps welcomed, the second is an unpleasant prospect and there is a firm resolve not to conceive a third. But such conjugal chastity is incompatible, except in the case of “married saints,” with a bon ménage. The husband, scandalised and offended by the rejection and refusal of the wife, will seek a substitute more complaisant; and the spouse also may “by the decree of Destiny” happen to meet the right man, the man for whom and for whom only every woman will sweep the floor. And then adieu to prudence and virtue, honour and fair fame. For, I repeat, it is the universal custom of civilised and Christian Europeans to plant their womankind upon a pedestal exposed as butts to every possible temptation: and, if they fall, as must often be expected, to assail them with obloquy and contempt for succumbing to trials imposed upon them by the stronger and less sensitive sex. Far more sensible and practical, by the side of these high idealists, shows the Moslem who guards his jewel with jealous care and who, if his “honour,” despite every precaution, insist upon disgracing him, draws the sabre and cuts her down with the general approbation and applause of society.
321 [Arab. “‘Alà ghayri tarík,” which I would translate “out of the way,” like the Persian “bí-Ráh."— ST.]
322 In text “Kababjí” (for Kababji) seller of Kabábs, mutton or kid grilled in small squares and skewered: see vol. vi. 225.
323 In text “Sujjádah;” vol. vi. 193.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the King fell into the pit (and he disguised in Darwaysh-garb) the thieves sought to slay him and carry off his clothes, when quoth he to them, “Wherefore kill me when my garments are not worth a thousand groats324 and I own not a single one? However, I have at hand a handicraft whereat I am ready to work sitting in this pit and do you take and sell my produce for a thousand faddahs; and every day I will labour for you, finishing one and requiring naught save my meat and drink and perpetual privacy in your quarters.” “At what craft art thou crafty?” asked they, and he answered, “At mat-weaving: so do ye bring me a piastre325 worth of rushes326 and the same of yarn.” Accordingly they fared forth and fetched him his need and presently he made a mat and said to them, “Take ye this and sell it not for less than a thousand faddahs.” They hied out and carried the work to the Bazar where, as soon as the folk caught sight thereof, they crowded about the seller, each man offering more until the price had risen to a thousand and two hundred silvern nusfs. Hereupon said the thieves to themselves, “By Allah, this Darwaysh can profit us with much profit and enrich us without other trade;” so every morning for ten days they brought him rushes and yarn and he wove for them a mat which they vended for a like sum. On this wise it happened to him; but as regards the Wazirs and Emirs and lords of the land, they went up to the Council-chamber327 for the first day and the second and the third until the week was ended and they awaited the coming of their King, but he came not, neither found they any tidings nor hit they upon any manifest traces and none knew whither he had wended. So they were sore exercised and confusion befel with much tittle-tattle of folk; each one said his own say nor were they guided by any to what they should do. Furthermore, as often as they asked of the Harem they were answered, “We have no tidings of him;” so they were perplext and at last they agreed, their King being clean lost, to set up a Sultan as his successor. However the Wazirs said, “Tarry ye until Allah shall open unto us a door whereby we shall be rightly directed to him.” Now the King had required from the people of the pit rushes of various colours, red and green, and when they fetched them he fell to weaving a mat like those of the striped sort, whereon he figured by marks and signs the name of the quarter wherein he was gaoled328 and discovered to his men the way thereto and the site itself; after which he said to the thieves, “Verily this mat misfitteth every save those in the Royal Palace and its price is seven thousand faddahs. Do you take it and hie with it to the Sultan who shall buy it of you and pay you the price.” They obeyed his bidding and wending to the palace of the Grand Wazir found him sitting with the Lords of the land and with the Nobles of the realm talking over the matter of the King when behold, those who brought the mat entered into his presence. Quoth the Minister, “What be that which is with you?” and quoth they, “A mat!” whereupon he bade them unroll it and they did so before him; and he, being sagacious, experienced in all affairs, looked thereat and fell to examining the bundle and turning it about, and considering it until suddenly he espied signs thereupon figured. He at once understood what they meant and he was rightly directed to the place where the King was confined; so he arose without delay and after ordering them to seize those who had brought the mat took with him a party and went forth, he and they, after mastering the marks which were upon the weft. He ceased not wending (and the people of the pit with him under arrest) until such time as he arrived at the place. Here they went in and opened the souterrain and brought out the King who was still in Darwaysh garb. Presently the Wazir sent for the Linkman and when he appeared they seized all who were in that place and struck off their heads; but as for the women they put them into large sacks329 of camel’s hair and drowned them in the river: furthermore, they spoiled all that was on that site and the Sultan gave orders to raze the house until it became level with the ground. When all this had been done they questioned the Sultan concerning the cause of that event and he informed them of what had befallen him from incept to conclusion and lastly he cried, “Walláhi! the cause of my escape from this danger was naught save the handicraft which I learnt; to wit, the making of mats, and the Almighty requite with welfare him who taught me because he was the means of my release; and, but for my learning this trade, ye had never known the way to discover me, seeing that Allah maketh for every effect a cause.” And having on such wise ended this tale Ibn Ahyam330 fell to relating to the King the history of
324 In text “Faddah” all through.
325 In text “Kirsh” (==piastre) a word before explained. See Lane (M.E.) Appendix B.
326 In Arab. “Samár;” from the Pers. “Sumar”==a reed, a rush.
327 In Arab. “Díwán:” vols. vii. 340; ix. 108.
328 Scott has (vol. vi. 373), “The desired articles were furnished, and the Sultan setting to work, in a few days finished a mat, in which he ingeniously contrived to plait in flowery characters, known only to himself and his vizier, the account of his situation.”
329 In Arab. “Ghirárah” (plur. “Gharáír”)==a sack. In Ibn Khall. (iv. pp. 90, 104) it is a large sack for grain and the especial name of a tax on corn.
330 In the text “Mohammed ibn Ibrahim,” another confusion with the last tale. This story is followed in the MS. by (1) “The History of the First Brave,” (2) “The History of the Second Brave,” and “The Tale of the Noodle and his Asses,” which I have omitted because too feeble for insertion.
It is related that there was a King among the manifold Kings of Al-Hind, and he had a Wazir which was a right good counsellor to the realm and pitiful to the lieges and the Fakirs and merciful to the miserable and just in all his dealings. Despite this the Grandees of the kingdom hated him and envied him, and at all times and seasons when he went forth the presence or returned to his house, one of the Emirs would come forward and say to the King, “O our lord, verily the Wazir doth of doings thus and thus,"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
331 Scott (vi.375) “Story of the Good Vizier unjustly imprisoned.” Gauttier (vi. 394) Histoire du bon Vizier injustement emprisonné.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Lords of the land, whenever the Wazir was absent traduced him and maligned him in the presence of the Sultan, saying, “The Minister doth such and such doings,” and this continued for a while of time. Now one day of the days, as the Sultan was sitting in his palace behold, a running messenger came to him bearing letters from sundry of the provinces which were in his reign imploring help against their foemen’s violence. “What may be done in this case?” asked the Sultan, and his Nobles answered saying, “Send to them the Wazir,” but they spake not this speech save in their resolve to ruin him and their determination to destroy him. Hereupon the King sent for him and summoned him and commended him to journey to the places in question; but those of whom the complaints had been made threw dangers and difficulties in his way. Said the Wazir, “Hearing and obeying;” and after preparing himself for wayfare he set forth on his way. Now the Lords had despatched letters to the province whither he intended, apprising the folk of his coming, and saying to them, “Empower him not with anything, and if you avail to work him aught of wrong, so do.” When the Wazir marched upon those places he was met by the people with welcomes and deputations to receive him and offer him presents and rarities and sumptuous gifts, and all who were therein honoured him with highmost honour. Presently he sent for their adversaries, and having brought them before him made peace between the two parties, and their gladness increased and their sadness ceased, and he tarried with them for a month full-told; after which he set out on his homeward march. The Lords, however, had reported all this to the King and they were right sore and sorrowful, for that their desire had been the destruction of the Minister. And one day of the days as the Wazir was sitting at home, behold, a party of Chamberlains appeared before him and summoned him to the presence, saying, “Arise, the King requireth thee.” He rose without stay or delay, and taking horse made for the presence, and ceased not riding until he had reached the palace and had gone in to the King, who forthright bade throw him into gaol. (Now it happened that the prison had seven doors.)332 Cried the Wazir, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great; and verily we be Allah’s and unto Him are we returning! Would I wot why and wherefore the King hath confined me and for what cause; but Omnipotence is Allah’s.” As soon as the Minister was quartered in his new quarters the Sovran sent to interdict his eating any food of **flesh-kind, allowing only bread and cheese and olives and oil, and so left him in durance vile. Hereupon all the folk applied them to addressing the King with petitions and to interceding for the captive; but this was not possible; nay, the Sultan’s wrath waxed hotter nor did it soon cool, for the Wazir abode in gaol during the longsome length of seven years. At last one day of the days that Sultan went forth disguised in Darwaysh-garb and toured about town unattended, and ceased not walking until he reached and passed before the palace of the Wazir, where he found a gathering of much folk, some sweeping and others sprinkling water, and others spreading333, whilst the Harem and household were in high glee and gladness. He stood there amongst the spectators and presently asked what was doing, and they informed him, saying, “The Wazir returneth from abroad this night and folk have been informed by messenger that the Sultan hath deigned restore him to favour and expressed himself satisfied, so presently we shall see him once more at home.” “Praise be to Allah!” quoth the King in his mind; “by the Almighty, this occurrence hath no cause, and how went the bruit abroad that the King hath again accepted him? And now there is no help but that I forgather with the Wazir and see what there may be to do and how this occurred.” The Sultan increased in disquietude therefor, so he went and bought a somewhat of bread and repairing to the gaol (he being still in Fakir’s garb) accosted the gaoler and said to him, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, open to me the bridewell that I may enter and distribute this provaunt among the prisoners, for that I have obliged myself to such course by oath, and the cause is that when suffering from a sickness which brought me nigh to death’s door I vowed a vow and sware a strong swear that, an Almighty Allah deign heal me, I would buy somewhat of bread and dole it out to the inmates of the gaol334. So here am I come for such purpose.” Upon this the man opened to him the door and he went in and divided all the bread amongst the captives yet he saw not the Wazir; so he said to the gaoler, “Hath any one remained that I may dole to him his share?” “O Darwaysh,” said the other, “whereof askest thou?” and said the Fakir, “O my lord, I have sworn an oath and Allah upon thee, if there be among the captives any save these I have seen, do thou tell me thereof.” Quoth the man, “There remaineth none save the Wazir who is in another place, but indeed he is not in want;” and quoth the Fakir, “O my lord, my desire is to free myself from the obligation of mine oath.” Accordingly the gaoler led him in to the Wazir and when the Darwaysh drew nigh the visitor shrieked and fell fainting to the floor, and the warder seeing him prostrate left him to himself and went his ways. Hereupon the Minister came to him and sprinkling somewhat of water upon his face said to him, “O Darwaysh, there is no harm to thee!” So the Fakir arose and said, “O my lord, my heart hath been upon thee for a while of time;"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
332 This detail has no significance, though perhaps its object may be to affect the circumstantial, a favourite manoeuvre with the Ráwí. [It may mean that the prisoner had to pass through seven gates before reaching it, to indicate its formidable strength and the hopelessness of all escape, except perhaps by a seven-warded, or as the Arabs would say, a seven-pinned key of gold. In the modern tale mentioned on p. 174 the kidnapped Prince and his Wazir are made to pass “through one door after the other until seven doors were passed,” to emphasize the utter seclusion of their hiding place. — ST.]
333 i.e. the mats and mattresses, rugs and carpets, pillows and cushions which compose the chairs, tables and beds of a well-to-do Eastern lodging.
334 The pretext was natural. Pious Moslems often make such vows and sometimes oblige themselves to feed the street dogs with good bread.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the Fakir to the Wazir, “By Allah, O my lord, my heart hath indeed been with thee for this space of seven years; and often as I went to thy mansion, they told me that the Sultan is wroth with the Wazir; withal I still awaited for thee until this very day, when I repaired to thy quarters according to my custom and I found in thy house much folk, this sweeping and that sprinkling and that spreading, and all were in joyous case. So I asked of the by-standers and they informed me that the Sovran hath become satisfied with thee and that on the ensuing night thou wilt hie thee home for that this thy saying is soothfast.”335 “O Darwaysh,” replied the other, “ ’Tis true that I sent to my household and informed them thereof, for that I have received welcome news from an event befel me; so I bade apprise those at home that the Sultan is satisfied with me; and to me, O Darwaysh, hath betided a matter wondrous and an occurrence marvellous; were it written with needle-gravers upon the eye-corners it had been a warning to whoso would be warned.” The Fakir asked, “And what may be that?” and the other answered, “By Allah, O Darwaysh, the while I was in the service of His Highness the King, I was a true counsellor to him and pitiful to the lieges and I never deceived him nor did I betray him at any time at all; and often as he sent me to a place wherein were mutual strife and trouble and wrong and tyranny, I smoothed matters and pacified the folk and righted wrongs amongst them by the power of Almighty Allah. But one day of the days, my mind was set upon riding out to the waste lands about the town and the gardens thereof, by way of solacing my self; so I embarked in a little caïque336 upon the river and when we were amid stream I had a longing for coffee337; so I said to the boatman, ‘Abide this place and throw out the anchor while we drink coffee.’ Hereat all my suite arose and busied themselves in preparing it until ’twas ready and I had a finján338 worth a treasury339 of money which they filled and passed to me. I took it as I was sitting upon the gunwale of the boat whence it dropped into the stream; and I was sorely sorrowful therefor, because that cup was a souvenir. Seeing this, all in the boat arose and sent for a diver who asked, saying, ‘In what place hath the finjan fallen that I may seek it? and do ye inform me of its whereabouts.’ So we sought for a pebble in the caïque but we found none, and as I wore upon my finger a signet ring which was worth two treasuries of money I drew it off and cast it into the water crying, ‘The cup fell from me in this place.’ But when the ducker saw me throw my ring he said to me, ‘Wherefore, O my lord, hast thou parted with thy seal?’ and said I to him, ‘The deed is done.’ Then he went down and plunged into the deep for a while and behold he came up grasping the cup, in the middle of which we saw the signet ring. Now when this mighty great matter befel me, I said to myself, ‘Ho certain person, there remaineth upon this good luck no better luck; and haply there will befal thee somewhat contrary to this.’340 However those with me rejoiced at the finding of my two losses, not did any fear therefrom my change of state and downfall, but they wondered and said, ‘By Allah, this is a rare matter!’ Then we went forward in the caïque until we had reached the place intended, where we tarried the whole of that day and presently returned home. But hardly was I settled and had I taken seat in my home quarters when behold, a party of Chamberlains of the King’s suite came in to me and said, ‘The Sultan requireth thee!’ Accordingly, I arose and mounted horse and rode on till I had come to the palace and entered the presence; and I designed to offer suit and service to the King as was my wont, when suddenly he cried, ‘Carry him away.’ So they bore me off and confined me in this place, after which the Sultan sent and interdicted me from eating a tittle of flesh food, and here I am after the space of seven years, O Darwaysh, still in the same condition. Now on the morning of this day my stomach craved for meat, so I said to the gaoler, ‘O Such-and-such, ’tis now seven years since I tasted flesh, so take this ashrafi and bring us an ounce of meat.’ He accepted the money saying, ‘ ’Tis well,’ and went forth from me and brought me my need."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
335 In text “Min hakk házá ‘l-Kalám sahíh.”
336 In text “Káík” and “Káík-jí,” the well-known caïque of the Bosphorus, a term which bears a curious family resemblance to the “Kayak” of the Eskimos.
337 Here coffee is mentioned without tobacco, whereas in more modern days the two are intimately connected. And the reason is purely hygienic. Smoking increases the pulsations without strengthening them, and depresses the heart-action with a calming and soothing effect. Coffee, like alcohol, affects the circulation in the reverse way by exciting it through the nervous system; and not a few authorities advise habitual smokers to end the day and prepare for rest with a glass of spirits and water. It is to be desired that the ignorants who write about “that filthy tobacco” would take the trouble to observe its effects on a large scale, and not base the strongest and extremest opinions, as is the wont of the Anglo-Saxon Halb-bildung, upon the narrowest and shakiest of bases. In Egypt, India and other parts of the Eastern world they will find nicotiana used by men, women and children, of all ranks and ages; and the study of these millions would greatly modify the results of observing a few hundreds at home. But, as in the case of opium-eating, populus vult decipi, the philanthrope does not want to know the truth, indeed he shrinks from it and loathes it. All he cares for is his own especial “fad.”
338 Arab. “Fínjál” systematically repeated for “Finján” pronounced in Egypt “Fingán” see vol. viii. 200. [The plural “Fanájíl,” pronounced “Fanágíl,” occurs in Spitta Bey’s Contes Arabes Modernes, p. 92, and in his Grammar, p. 26, the same author states that the forms “Fingán” and “Fingál” are used promiscuously. — ST.]
339 For the “Khaznah” (Khazínah) or 10,000 kís each = £5, see vols. ii. 84; iii. 278.
340 A euphuism meaning some disaster. The text contains a favourite incident in folklore; the first instance, I believe, being that of Polycrates of Samos according to Herodotus (lib. iii. 41-42). The theory is supported after a fashion by experience amongst all versed in that melancholy wisdom the “knowledge of the world.” As Syr Cauline the knight philosophically says:—
Everye white will have its blacke,
And everye sweete its sowre: etc.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting, and of deeds fair seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Wazir continued to the Fakir, “Then, O Darwaysh, we divided the meat (I and the gaoler) with our fingers, and we washed it and set it upon the hearth, building a fire beneath it until it was cooked, when we took it off, and after waiting awhile dished it up and were about to eat it. But it happened to be noon-tide, and the hour of incumbent orisons, so we said, ‘Let us pray our prayers;’ and we arose and made the Wuzú-ablution, and went through the mid-day devotions. After this we set the plate before us; and I, removing its cover, put forth my hand to take up a bit of meat, but as I took it, behold, a mouse passed over that same morsel with its tail and paws341. I cried, ‘There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great! I have divided this meat with my own hand and have cooked it myself, so how could this matter have occurred? How ever, Allah the Omniscient haply knoweth that the stumbling stone hath been removed from my path,’ and this I said, for when I saw that mouse do on such wise I felt that glad news and good tidings were coming from the Lord of the Heavens and the Earth. So I sent to my home and informed them that the Sultan was satisfied with me, for things when at their worst mend, and in joyance end; and I opine, O Darwaysh, that all my troubles have now ceased.” Said to him the Fakir, “Alhamdolillah — Glory be to God — O my lord, who hath sent thee forerunners of welfare.” Then he arose from beside the Wazir, and went forth and ceased not wending until he came to his palace where he doffed his disguise and donned the garments of the Kings, and taking seat upon the throne of his Kingship summoned the Wazir from his gaol in all joy, and set him between his hands and gifted him with sumptuous gifts. And all displeasure in the Sultan’s heart being removed from the Wazir he committed to him once more the management of all his affairs342. But when Ibn Ahyam (continued Shahrazad) had ended his history of the Righteous Wazir he presently began to tell the tale of
341 Thus making the food impure and unfit for a religious Moslem to eat. Scott (vi. 378) has “when a huge rat running from his hole leaped into the dish which was placed upon the floor.” He is probably thinking of the East Indian “bandycoot.”
342 In text this tale concludes, “It is ended and this (next) is the History of the Barber.”
It is related that in Misr there was a Youth, a Shalabí,343 sans peer for semblance and excellence, and he had to friend a lovely woman whose husband was a Yúzbáshí344 or captain. Now whenever that young man or his playmate would fain conjoin, each with other, union proved almost impossible and yet his heart was always hanging to her love and she was in similar state and even more enamoured for that he was passing fair of form and feature. One day of the days the Captain returned home and said to his wife, “I am invited to such a place this afternoon, therefore an thou require aught ask it of me ere I go.” Cried they,345 “We want nothing save thy safety;” yet were they delighted therewith, and the youth’s friend said, “Alhamdolillah — Glory to God — this day we will send to a certain person and bring him hither and we will make merry he and I.” As soon as the husband fared forth his home in order to visit the gardens according to his invitation, the wife said to a small boy which was an eunuch beside her, “Ho boy, hie thee to Such-an-one (the Shalabi) and seek him till thou forgather with him and say to him, ‘My lady salameth to thee and saith, Come to her house at this moment.’ “ So the little slave went from his mistress and ceased not wending to seek the Shalabi (her friend) till he found him in a barber’s booth where at that time it was his design to have his head shaved and he had ordered the shaver so to do. The man said to him, “O, my lord, may this our day be blessed!” whereupon he brought out from his budget a clean towel, and going up to the Shalabi dispread it all about his breast. Then he took his turband and hung it to a peg346 and placing a basin before him washed his pate, and was about to poll it when behold, the boy slave passed within softly pacing, and inclining to him whispered in his ear confidentially between them twain so that none might overhear them, “My lady So-and-so sendeth thee many salams and biddeth me let thee know that to-day the coast is clear, the Captain being invited out to a certain place. Do thou come to her at once and if thou delay but a little thou mayst not avail to possess her nor may she possess thee, and if thou be really minded to forgather with her come with all speed.” Hearing these words of the boy the lover’s wits were wildered and he could not keep patience; no, not for a minute; and he cried to the Barber, “Dry my head this instant and I will return to thee, for I am in haste to finish a requirement.” With these words he put his hand into his breast pouch and pulling out an ashrafi gave it to the Barber, who said in himself, “An he have given me a gold-piece for wetting his poll, how will it be when I shall have polled him? Doubtless he will then gift me with half a score of dinars!” Hereupon the youth went forth from the Barber who followed him saying, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, when thou shalt have ended thy business, return to me that I may shave thy scalp and ’twere better that thou come to the shop.” “Right well,” said the youth, “we will presently return to thee,” and he continued walking until he drew near the place of his playmate when suddenly the Barber caught him up a second time — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
343 A dandy, a macaroni, from the Turk. Chelebi, see vol i 22. Here the word is thoroughly Arabised. In old Turk. it means, a Prince of the blood; in mod. times a gentleman, Greek or European.
344 In the text “Úzbáshá” or “Uzbáshá,” a vile Egyptianism for Yúzbashi-head of a hundred (men) centurion, captain.
345 Scil. the household, the Harem, etc. As usual, the masc. is used for the fem.
346 [Ar. “Al-Rashákah,” a word is not found in the common lexicons. In Dozy and “Engelmann’s Glossary of Spanish and Portuguese words derived from the Arabic,” it is said to be a fork with three prongs, here probably a hat-stand in the shape of such a fork. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the youth approached the house of his friends, suddenly the Barber caught him up hard by thereto and placing himself in front said, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, do not forget me, but be sure of return to the shop that I may poll thee.” Quoth the youth to him in his folly, “ ’Tis well, O Man, I will certainly come back to thee and will not forget thy shop.” So the lover left him and ganged his gait and presently went up to the home of his friend, whilst the Barber stayed expecting him and remained standing at the door; and of the denseness of the tonsorial wits would not budge from that place and would await the youth that he might shave him. Such was the case with them; but as regards the Yuzbashi, when he went forth from his house bent upon seeking his friend who had invited him, he found that a serious matter of business347 would hinder his giving the entertainment, so the host said to the Captain, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, pardon me for I have this day a matter which will prevent my going forth to the garden and Inshallah — God willing — on the morrow we will there meet and enjoy ourselves, we and thou, free and with hearts at rest; for a man who hath work in hand may not take his pleasure and his thoughts will remain ever preoccupied.” Hereupon quoth the Captain, “Sooth thou hast said, O Such-and-such, and herein there is naught to excuse of harm or hindrance, and the day’s engagement between us if it be not to-morrow will come after to-morrow.” So he farewelled his host and left him and returned homewards. Now that Yuzbashi was a man of honour and sagacity and pluck and spunk and by nature a brave. He ceased not wending until he had reached his home where he found the Barber standing at the house door and the fellow came up to him and said, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, when thou goest within do thou send me down a handsome youth who went upstairs into this dwelling.” The Yuzbashi turned upon him with a face fiery as ruddy sparks and cried to him, “What, O Man, dost thou say that one hath gone up to my house, O pimp, O pander?348 What manner of man can enter therein and I absent?” Quoth the Barber, “By Allah, O my lord, one did go up whilst I stood awaiting him the while he passed out of my sight; so when thou art abovestairs do thou send him down to me, saying, ‘Thine own Barber awaiteth thee at the entrance below.’ “ Now when the Yuzbashi heard these words, he waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and going up into his house with haste and hurry knocked at the inner door which defended the Harem. The inmates heard him and knew that it was he, and the Youth fell to piddling in his bag-trowsers; but the woman took him and hid him in the shaft of the cistern349 and going forth opened the door to her husband. Cried the Yuzbashi, “Of a truth, hath any right or reason to say that here in this house is a man?”350 and she replied, “Oh, the shame of me! How ever, O my lord, can there be here a man?”351 So the Yuzbashi went about seeking and searching but he came not upon any; then he went down to the Barber wight and cried, “O Man, I have found none upstairs save the womenkind;” but the Barber replied, “By Allah, O my lord, he went up before my eyes and I am still awaiting him.” Then the Captain hurried away a second time and rummaged about, high and low, and left no place whereinto he did not pry and spy, yet he came upon no one. He was perplext at his affair and again going down to the Barber said to him, “O Man, we have found none.” Still the fellow said to him doggedly, “Withal a man did go within, whilst I who am his familiar here stand expecting him, and thou sayest forsooth he is not there, albeit he be abovestairs and after he went in he never came out until this tide.” Hereupon the Captain returned to his Harem a third time and a fourth time unto the seventh time; but he found no one; so he was dazed and amazed and the going in and faring out were longsome to him. All this and the youth concealed in the cistern shaft lay listening to their dialogue and he said, “Allah ruin this rascal Barber!” but he was sore afraid and he quaked with fright lest the Yuzbashi slay him and also slay his wife. Now after the eighth time the Captain came down to the Barber and said to him, “An thou saw him enter, up along with me and seek for him.” The man did accordingly, but when the two had examined every site, they came upon no one; so the Barber was stupefied and said to himself, “Whoso went up before me and I looking upon him, whither can he have wended?” Then he fell to pondering and presently said, “By Allah, verily this is a wondrous matter that we have not discovered him;” but the Yuzbashi cried fiercely, “By the life of my head and by Him who created all creatures and numbered the numberings thereof, an I find not this fellow needs must I do thee die.” The Barber of his exceeding terror fell to rummaging all the places but it fortuned that he did not look into the shaft of the cistern; however at last he said, “There remaineth for us only the cistern shaft;"—-And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent, and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
347 In text “Shá‘il” copyist’s error for “Shághil,” act. part. of “Shughl” = business, affairs. [Here it stands probably for the fuller “Shughl shághil,” an urgent business. — ST.]
348 In text “Yá ‘Ars, yá Mu’arras”: vol. i. 338.
349 In Syria most houses have a rain cistern or tank into which the terrace-roof drains and which looks from above like a well with a cover. The water must have been low when the lover hid himself in the reservoir.
350 [In the MS. “Min Hakk la-hu Asl an ‘and-ná huná Rájil,” a thoroughly popular phrase. “Min Hakk” and “min Hakkan,” where in the adverbial meaning of Hakkan its grammatical form as an accusative is so far forgotten that it allows itself to be governed by the preposition “min,” is rendered by Bocthor “tout de bon,” “sérieusement.” “Asl” = root has here the meaning of foundation in fact. The literal translation of the passage would therefore be: “Forsooth, is there any truth in it that a man is here in our house?” “Min Hakk” has occurred page 183, where the text, quoted in the note, may perhaps be translated: “Of a truth, is this saying soothfast?"— ST.]
351 [The MS. has: “Yá Gháratí a-Zay má huná Rájil;” “Yá Gháratí” will recur presently, p. 195, along with “yá Musíbatí” = Oh my calamity! I take it therefore to be an exclamation of distress from “Ghárat” = invasion, with its incidents of devastation, rapine and ruin. It would be the natural outcry of the women left helpless in an unprotected camp when invaded by a hostile tribe. In “a-Zay má” the latter particle is not the negative, but the pronoun, giving to “a-Zay” = “in what manner,” “how?” the more emphatical sense of “how ever?” In the same sense we find it again, infra, Night 754, “a-Zay má tafútní” = how canst thou quit me? I would therefore render: “Woe me I am undone, how ever should there be a man here?” or something to that purpose. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Barber wight, after he and the Captain had finished their search without finding anyone, said, “There remaineth to us only the cistern shaft;” so he went and peered therein, but he could not use his sight overwell. Hereat the Yuzbashi came up behind him and cuffed him with a mighty cuff upon the neck and laid him prostrate and insensible at the mouth of the shaft. Now when the woman heard the Barber saying, “Let us explore the door which openeth upon the cistern shaft,” she feared from the Yuzbashi, so coming up to him she said, “O my lord, how is it that thou art a Captain and that thy worth and thy length and thy breadth are on such wise; withal thou obeyest the word of a fellow Jinn-mad352 and sayest that there is a man in thine own house. This is indeed a reproach to thee.” So the Yuzbashi of his stupidity believed her, and approaching the Barber on the edge of the cistern shaft cuffed him with a cuff whose excess of violence dazed him and he fell upon the floor retaining naught of his senses. When the woman saw this she cried to her husband, “Pinion his elbows at this moment and suffer me take my due of him by a sound drubbing, and then let him go.” “This is the right rede,“quoth he and after all was done she cried to her husband, “Come with us above that we enjoy our pleasure, and Alhamdolillah that thou didst not go to the place of invitation for I should have been desolate by thine absence this day.” So they ascended and sat together, each beside other, and they sported and were gladdened and rejoiced; and after that the Captain lay down and was presently drowned in slumber. Seeing this the wife arose and repaired to the cistern shaft wherefrom she released her beloved and finding all his clothes in a filthy state from the excess of what had befallen him of affright penetrating into his heart by reason of the Yuzbashi, she doffed his dress and bringing a bundle of clean clothing garbed him therein, after which his fear was calmed and his heart comforted and he was set on the right way. Then she led him to a private stead, wherein they twain, he and she, took their joyance and had their pleasure and made merry for the space of three hours, till such time as each had had fullest will of other. After this he went forth from her and the Veiler veiled him. On such wise were the wife’s doings; but as regards what befel the Barber-man, he ceased not to remain strown on the ground and dazed by the stress of the blow and he abode there pinioned for a while. About mid-afternoon the Yuzbashi’s wife went to her husband and awaking him from sleep made for him coffee which he drank and felt cheered; and he knew nothing anent that his spouse had done with her beloved during the while he slumbered like unto a he goat. So she said to him, “Rise up and go we to the man and do thou drub him with the soundest drubbing and turn him out.” Quoth he, “Yes indeed, by Allah, verily he deserveth this, the pimp! the pander! the procurer!” Accordingly he went to him and finding him lying upon the ground raised him and said to him, “Up with thee and let us seek the man whereof thou spakest.” Hereupon the Barber arose and went down into the cistern shaft where he found none and therewith the Captain laid the fellow upon his back; and, baring his arms to his elbows, seized a Nabbút353 and beat him till he made water in his bag-trowsers; after which he let him go. So the Barber arose and he in doleful dumps, and went off from the house and ceased not wending until he reached his shop about sunset, hardly believing in his own safety.
It is said that in Misr lived a woman, a model of beauty and loveliness and stature and perfect grace, who had a difficulty with a man which was a Kazi and after this fashion it befel. She was the wife of an Emir355 and she was wont to visit the Baths once a month; and when the appointed term for her going forth had come, she adorned herself and perfumed herself and beautified herself and hastened, tripping and stumbling,356 to the Hammám. Now her path passed by the Kazi’s court-house where she saw many a man357 and she stopped to enjoy the spectacle, upon which the judge himself glanced at her with a glance of eyes that bequeathed to him a thousand sighs and he asked her saying, “O woman, hast thou any want?” “No indeed,” answered she, “I have none.” Then he inclined to her and drawing near her said, “O lady mine and O light of these eyne, is union possible between us twain?” She replied, “’Tis possible,” and he enquired of her when it could be, and she made an appointment with him saying, “Do thou come to me after supper-time,”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable! Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
354 Scott’s “Story of the Lady of Cairo and her four Gallants” (vol. vi. 380): Gauttier, Histoire d’ une Dame du Caire et de ses Galans (vi. 400). This tale has travelled over the Eastern world. See in my vol. vi. 172 “The Lady and her Five Suitors,” and the “Story of the Merchant’s Wife and her Suitors” in Scott’s “Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters” (Cadell, London, 1800), which is in fact a garbled version of the former, introduced into the répertoire of “The Seven Wazírs.” I translate the W. M. version of the tale because it is the most primitive known to me; and I shall point out the portions where it lacks finish.
355 This title does not appear till p. 463 (vol. v.) of the MS., and it re-appears in vol. vi. 8.
356 i.e. in her haste: the text has “Kharrat.” The Persians who rhetorically exaggerate everything say “rising and sinking like the dust of the road.” [I doubt whether “Kharrat” could have the meaning given to it in the translation. The word in the MS. has no Tashdíd and I think the careless scribe meant it for “Kharajat,” she went out. — ST.]
357 I read “Nás malmumín=assembled men, a crowd of people.”— ST.]
Dunyazad said to her. “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Goodwife said to the Kazi, “Do thou come to me after supper-time,” and went her ways and entered the Hammam, where she washed herself and cleaned herself; then, coming out thence, she determined to go home. But she was met on her road by a Gentleman358 who was Sháhbandar of the Trader-guild, and he seeing her set his affections upon her; so he accosted her, saying, “Is’t possible that we ever be merry together?” Hereat she appointed him to come when supper was done, after which she left him and ganged her gait. As she neared her home she was met by a Butcher whose heart inclined to her, so he addressed her saying, “Is union possible?” and she appointed him to visit her an hour after supper had been eaten. Then she went home and mounting the stairs took seat in the upper saloon open to the air, where she doffed her head-veil359 and all that was upon her head. Now in the neighbourhood of her house was a Trader and he had mounted to the terrace-roof for a reason; so when the woman bared her hair and taking up a comb began to dry and prepare it for dressing, his eyes fell upon her whilst so engaged, and his heart was engrossed with her love. Presently he sent to her an old woman; and she returned him a reply and appointed him to visit her house during the night after supper-tide. On this wise she had promised herself to four men.360 Now the Kazi had got ready for her a Kohl-style and the Gentleman had prepared for her a fine suit of clothes and the Butcher had led for her a full-sized ram and the Trader had set apart for her two pieces of silk. As soon as it was supper-time, behold, the Kazi repaired to her in privacy bringing his gift and knocked at the door which he found unbolted and she cried to him, “Come in.” Accordingly he entered to her and presented to her that which was with him, but hardly had he settled himself comfortably in his seat when the Gentleman arrived and also rapped. Quoth the Kazi to the Goodwife, “Who may this be?” and quoth she, ‘Fear thou nothing, but arise and doff thy dress;” so he stripped himself altogether and she garbed him in a gaberdine and bonnet361 and hid him in a closet and went to open the door. Hereupon appeared the Consul and she let him in and accepted what he had brought and seated him beside her. But hardly had he settled down when, behold, there came a knock at the door and he cried, “Who may that be?” Said she, “Fear nothing but up and doff thy dress;” so he arose and stripped himself and she disguised him in a gaberdine and bonnet and hid him in another closet all alone. Then she hastened to the door and suddenly the Flesher-man appeared and she let him in and led him within and having accepted his present seated him; but hardly was he at his case when the door was again knocked, whereat he was overcome and affrighted: however, she said to him, “Fear nothing, but arise and doff thy dress in order that I may hide thee.” So he threw off his clothes and she invested him in a gaberdine and a bonnet and thrust him into a third cabinet. After this she went and opened the door when there came to her the Trader who was her neighbour, so she let him in and took what was with him, and seated him; and he was proceeding to sit down in comfort when behold, some one knocked at the door and he said, “Who may that be?” Hereupon she cried, “O my honour! O my calamity! This is my husband who but yesterday362 killed off four men; however do thou rise up and doff thy dress.” He did as she bade him, upon which she garbed him in a gaberdine and a bonnet and laid him in a fourth closet. So these four one and all found themselves in as many cabinets363 sorely sorrowful and fearful; but she went forth and suddenly her mate the Emir came in and took seat upon a chair that was in the house. Hereat all four sensed that she had opened to her husband and had admitted him; and they said in their minds, “Yesterday he killed four men and now he will kill me.” And each and every considered his own affair and determined in his mind what should happen to him from the husband. Such was the case with these four; but as regards the housemaster, when he took seat upon the chair, he fell to chatting with his wife and asking her saying, “What hast thou seen this day during thy walk to the Hammam?” Said she, “O my lord, I have witnessed four adventures and on every one hangeth a wondrous tale!” Now when the four heard the Goodwife speaking these words each of them said to himself, “Indeed I am a dead man and ’tis the intention of this woman to peach upon me.” Presently her husband asked her, “What be these four histories?” and answered she, “I saw four men each and every of whom was an antic fellow, a droll, a buffoon; furthermore, O my lord, one and all of them were garbed in gaberdine and bonnet.”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
358 “Rajul Khwájá:” see vol. vi. 46, etc. For “Sháhbandar”=king of the port, a harbourmaster, whose post I have compared with our “Consul,” see vol. iv. 29. It is often, however, applied to Government officials who superintend trade and levy duties at inland marts.
359 Arab. “Khimár,” a veil or rather a covering for the back of the head. This was the especial whorishness with which Shahrazad taxes the Goodwife: she had been too prodigal of her charms, for the occiput and the “back hair” should not be displayed even to the moon.
360 These four become five in the more finished tale — the King, the Wazir, the Kazi, the Wali or Chief of Police and the Carpenter. Moreover each one is dressed in different costume, gowns yellow, blue, red and patched with headgear equally absurd.
361 In text “Turtúr”=the Badawi’s bonnet: vol. ii. 143. Mr. Doughty (i. 160) found at Al-Khuraybah the figure of an ancient Arab wearing a close tunic to the knee and bearing on poll a coif. At Al-’Ula he was shown an ancient image of a man’s head cut in sandstone: upon the crown was a low pointed bonnet. “Long caps” are also noticed in i. 562; and we are told that they were “worn in outlandish guise in Arabia.”
362 In text “Embárah” (pron. ’Márah); pop. for Al-bárihah=the last part of the preceding day or night, yesterday. The vulgar Egyptian uses it as if it were a corruption of the Pers. “in bár”=this time. The Arab Badawin pronounce it El-beyrih (with their exaggerated “Imálah”) and use it not only for “yesterday,” but also for the past afternoon.
363 This device is far inferior in comic effect to the carpenter’s press or cabinet of five compartments, and it lacks the ludicrous catastrophe in which all the lovers make water upon one another’s heads.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director,the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the woman said to her husband, “Moreover each of the four was habited in gaberdine and bonnet.” But when the amourists heard these words every one of them said to himself, “Here be a judgment this strumpet of a woman hath wrought upon us, the whore! the witch!” and her husband understanding what she told him asked, “Wherefore didst thou not bring them hither that the sight might solace us?” “O my lord,” answered she, “had I brought them what hadst thou said to them? indeed I fear me thou wouldst have slain them!” And he, “No indeed; I would not have killed them, for they are but buffoon-folk, and we should have enjoyed their harlequinades and would have made them dance to us a wee and all and some tell us tales to gladden our minds; after which we would have suffered them depart and go about their own business.” The wife enquired, “And given that they knew neither dancing nor story-telling what hadst thou done with them?” and replied he, “Had the case been as thou sayest and they ignorant of all this, verily we would have killed them and cast them into the chapel of case.” The four men hearing such threatening words muttered to themselves, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great;” but the Kazi said in his mind, “How remain Judge of this city when I shall have been found garbed in gaberdine and bonnet and dancing and tale-telling? and indeed this is the greater death. Allah bring to ruin this adulteress of a woman!” Then the Flesher took thought as follows, “How shall I continue to be Chief of the Butchers when I prance about with a bonnet on my pate? this is indeed a painful penalty!” Then quoth the Gentleman, the Consul, “How shall it be with me when I am seen dancing and donning a bonnet? indeed death by the sword were lighter than this!” Then muttered the Trader which was the woman’s neighbour, “’Tis easier to kill myself with my own hand than to endure all such ill.” Anon the woman said to her husband, “Inshallah — God willing — on the morrow we will bring them hither to thy house that we may solace ourselves therewith;” but said he, “Walláhi, hadst thou brought them this night ’twere better, for that to-morrow evening I have business in the house of the Chief Emir.” Quoth she to him, “Now grant me immunity and give me permission and I will arise and bring them to thee at this moment, but each must come to thee alone and by himself.” Quoth he, “O Woman, leave I do give thee and immunity I do grant thee;” whereupon she rose without stay or delay and went to the closet wherein was the Judge. Then she opened it and entered, and taking him by the hand dragged him forward and came out with him and set him before her spouse garbed as he was in gaberdine and bonnet. The house-master scrutinised him and was certified of his being the Kazi and said to him, “Blessed be to thee, O our lord, this bonnet and this gaberdine which become thee passing well.” But the Judge, as he stood before the presence of the woman’s husband, bowed his front downwards and was clothed as with a garment in the sweat of shame and was sore abashed, when the Emir said to him, “O our lord the Kazi, do thou dance for us a wee the baboon dance and rejoice us; after which performance do thou tell us a tale that our breasts may thereby be broadened.” But when the man said this to him, the Judge feared for his life because he had heard and well remembered the words of the householder and he fell to clapping his palms and prancing to right and left. Hereupon the Emir laughed consumedly, he and his wife, and they signed and signalled each to other deriding the judicial dance, and the Kazi ceased not skipping until he fell to the floor for his fatigue. Hereupon the man said to him, “Basta! Now tell us thy tale that we may rejoice thereat; then do thou rise up and go about thy business.” “Hearkening and obedience,” said the Judge and forthright he began to relate the adventure of
It is related that a Tailor was sitting in his shop facing a tall house tenanted by a Yúzbáshi, and this man had a wife who was unique for beauty and loveliness. Now one day of the days as she looked out at the latticed window the Snip espied her and was distraught by her comeliness and seemlihead. So he became engrossed by love of her and remained all day a-gazing at the casement disturbed and perturbed, and as often as she approached the window and peered out therefrom, he would stare at her and say to her, “O my lady and O core of my heart, good morning to thee; and do thou have mercy upon one sore affected by his affection to thee; one whose eyes sleep not by night for thy fair sake.” “This pimp be Jinn-mad!” quoth the Captain’s wife, “and as often as I look out at the window he dareth bespeak me: haply the folk shall say, ‘Indeed she must needs be his mistress.’” But the Tailor persevered in this proceeding for a while of days until the lady was offended thereby and said in her mind, “Walláhi, there is no help but that I devise for him a device which shall make unlawful to him this his staring and casting sheep’s eyes at my casement; nay more, I will work for ousting him from his shop.” So one day of the days when the Yuzbashi went from home, his wife arose and adorned and beautified herself, and donning the bestest of what dresses and decorations she had, despatched one of her slave-girls to the Tailor instructing her to say to him, “My lady salameth to thee and biddeth thee come and drink coffee with her.” The handmaiden went to his shop and delivered the message; and he, when hearing these words,365 waxed bewildered of wits and rose up quivering in his clothes; — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Tailor heard the girl’s words, he quivered in his clothes; but indeed he recked not aught of the wiles of womankind. So after padlocking his shop he went with her to the house and walked upstairs, where he was met by the lady with a face like the rondure of the moon and she greeted him right merrily, and taking him by the hand led him to a well-mattressed Divan and bade her slave-girl serve him with coffee, and as he drank it she sat facing him. Presently the twain fell to conversing, she and he; and she soothed him with sweet speech, whilst he went clean out of his mind for the excess of her beauty and loveliness. This lasted until near midday, when she bade serve the dinner-trays, and took seat in front of him, and he began picking up morsels366 designed for his lips and teeth, but in lieu thereof thrust them into his eye. She laughed at him, but hardly had he swallowed the second mouthful and the third when behold, the door was knocked, whereupon she looked out from the casement and cried, “Oh my honour! this is my husband.” Hereat the man’s hands and knees began to quake, and he said to her, “Whither shall I wend?” Said she, “Go into this closet,” and forthright she thrust him into a cabinet and shot the bolt upon him and taking the key she tare out one of its teeth367 and put it in her pocket. After this she went down and opened the door to her husband who walked upstairs; and finding the dinner trays bespread, asked her, “What is this?” She answered, “I and my lover have been dining together.” “And what may be thy lover?” “Here he is.”368 “Where may he be?” to which she replied, “He is inside this closet.” Now as soon as the Tailor heard her say this say, he piddled in his bag-breeches and befouled himself and he was in a filthy state with skite and piss.369 Hereupon the Captain asked, “And where’s the key?” and she answered, “Here it is with me.”370 “Bring it out,” said he, so she pulled it from her pocket and handed it to him. The Captain took the key from his spouse and applying it to the wooden bolt of the cabinet rattled it to and fro371 but it would not open; so the wife came up to him and cried, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, what wilt thou do with my playmate?” Said he, “I will slay him!” and said she, “No, ’tis my opinion that thou hadst better pinion him and bind him as if crucified to the pillar in the court floor and then smite him with thy sword upon the neck and cut off his head; for I, during my born days, never saw a criminal put to death and now ’tis my desire to sight one done to die.” “Sooth is thy speech,” quoth he: so he took the key and fitting it into the wooden bolt would have drawn it back, but it could not move because a tooth had been drawn therefrom and the while he was rattling at the bolt his wife said to him, “O my lord,’tis my desire that thou lop off his hands and his feet until he shall become marked by his maims;372 and after do thou smite his neck.” “A sensible speech,” cried the husband and during the whole time her mate was striving to pull the bolt she kept saying to him, “Do this and do that with the fellow,” and he ceased not saying to her, “’Tis well.” All this and the Tailor sat hearkening to their words and melting in his skin; but at last the wife burst out laughing until she fell upon her back and her husband asked her, “Whereat this merriment?” Answered she, “I make mock of thee for that thou art wanting in wits and wis.dom.” Quoth he, “Wherefore?” and quoth she, “O my lord, had I a lover and had he been with me should I have told aught of him to thee? Nay; I said in my mind, ‘Do such and such with the Captain and let’s see whether he will believe or disbelieve.’ Now when I spake thou didst credit me and it became apparent to me that thou art wanting in wits.” Cried he to her, “Allah disappoint thee! Dost thou make jibe and jape of me? I also said in my thoughts, ‘How can a man be with her and she speak of him in the face of me?’” So he arose and took seat with her, the twain close together, at the dinner-tray and she fell to morselling him and he to morselling her, and they laughed and ate until they had their sufficiency and were filled; then they washed their hands and drank coffee. After this they were cheered and they toyed together and played the two-backed beast until their pleasure was fulfilled and this was about mid-afternoon — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
366 Arab. “Lukmah”=a balled mouthful: vols. i. 261, vii. 367.
367 The “Miftáh” (prop. “Miftah”) or key used throughout the Moslem East is a bit of wood, 7–14 inches long, and provided with 4–10 small iron pins which correspond with an equal number of holes in the “Dabbah” or wooden bolt. If one of these teeth be withdrawn the lock will not open. Lane (M.E. Introduction) has a sketch of the “Miftah” and “Dabbah.”
368 In text “Ayoh” which is here, I hold, a corruption of “í (or Ayy) hú”=”yes indeed he.” [I take “aywah” (as I would read the word) to be a different spelling for “aywa”=yes indeed, which according to Spitta Bey, Gr. p. 168 is a contraction of “Ay (í) wa’lláhi,” yes by Allah. “What? thy lover?” asks the husband, and she emphatically affirms the fact, to frighten the concealed tailor — ST.]
369 In the Arab. “Al-Ashkhakh,” plur. of “Shakhkh” and literally “the stales” meaning either dejection. [I read: “bi ’l-Shakhákh,” the usual modern word for urine. “’Alayya Shakhákh” is: I want to make water. See Dozy Suppl. s.v.-ST.]
370 In text “Ahú ma’í”— pure Fellah speech.
371 In the Arab. “laklaka-há”— an onomatopoeia.
372 In text “Ilà an yasír Karmu-hu.” Karm originally means cutting a slip of skin from the camel’s nose by way of mark, in lieu of the normal branding.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Yuzbashi fell to toying with his wife, and thrusting and foining at her cleft,373 her solution of continuity, and she wriggled to and fro to him, and bucked up and down, after which he tumbled her and both were in gloria.374 This lasted until near mid-afternoon when he arose and went forth to the Hammam. But as soon as he left the house she opened the cabinet and brought out the Tailor, saying, “Hast thou seen what awaiteth thee, O pander, O impure? Now by Allah, an thou continue staring at the windows or durst bespeak me with one single word it shall be the death of thee. This time I have set thee free, but a second time I will work to the wasting of thy heart’s blood.” Cried he, “I will do so no more; no, never!” Thereupon said she to her slave-girl, “O handmaid, open to him the door;” and she did so, and he fared forth (and he foully bewrayed as to his nether garments) until he had returned to his shop. Now when the Emir heard the tale of the Kazi, he rejoiced thereat and said to him, “Up and gang thy gait!” so the judge went off garbed in his gaberdine and bonnet. Then said the house-master to his wife, “This be one of the four, where’s Number Two?” Hereat she arose and opened the closet in which was the Gentleman and led him out by the hand till he stood before her husband, who looked hard at him and was certified of him and recognised him as the Sháhbandar; so he said to him, “O Khwájah, when didst thou make thee a droll?”375 but the other returned to him neither answer nor address and only bowed his brow groundwards. Quoth the house-master to him, “Dance for us a wee and when thou shalt have danced do thou tell us a tale.” So he fell perforce to clapping his hands and skipping about until he fell down of fatigue when he said, “O my lord, there is with me a rare story, and an exceeding strange if thou of thy grace accord attention to my words.” “Tell on and I will listen to thee,” quoth the other, whereupon said the Gentleman, “’Tis concerning the wiles of womankind,” and fell to relating the adventures of
373 In text “Yazghaz-há fí shikkati-ha,” the verb being probably a clerical error for “Yazaghzagh,” from “Zaghzagha,”=he opened a skin bag.
374 This is the far-famed balcony-scene in “Fanny” (of Ernest Feydeau translated into English and printed by Vizetelly and Co.) that phenomenal specimen of morbid and unmasculine French (or rather Parisian) sentiment, which contrasts so powerfully with the healthy and manly tone of The Nights. Here also the story conveys a moral lesson and, contrary to custom, the husband has the best of the affair. To prove that my judgment is not too severe, let me quote the following passages from a well-known and popular French novelist, translated by an English littérateur and published by a respectable London firm.
In “A Ladies’ Man:” by Guy de Maupassant, we read:—
Page 62. — And the conversation, descending from elevated theories concerning love, strayed into the flowery garden of polished blackguardism. It was the moment of clever, double meanings; veils raised by words, as petticoats are lifted by the wind; tricks of language, cleverly disguised audacities; sentences which reveal nude images in covered phrases, which cause the vision of all that may not be said to flit rapidly before the eyes of the mind, and allow well-bred people the enjoyment of a kind of subtle and mysterious love, a species of impure mental contact, due to the simultaneous evocations of secret, shameful and longed-for pleasures.
Page 166. — George and Madeleine amused themselves with watching all these couples, the woman in summer toilette and the man darkly outlined beside her. It was a huge flood of lovers flowing towards the Bois, beneath the starry and heated sky. No sound was heard save the dull rumble of wheels. They kept passing by, two by two in each vehicle, leaning back on the seat, clasped one against the other, lost in dreams of desire, quivering with the anticipation of coming caresses. The warm shadow seemed full of kisses. A sense of spreading lust rendered the air heavier and more suffocating. All the couples, intoxicated with the same idea, the same ardour, shed a fever about them.
Page 187 — As soon as she was alone with George, she clasped him in her arms, exclaiming: “Oh! my darling Pretty-boy, I love you more and more every day.”
The cab conveying them rocked like a ship.
“It is not so nice as our own room,” said she.
He answered; “Oh, no.” But he was thinking of Madame Waller.
Page 198. — He kissed her neck, her eyes, her lips with eagerness, without her being able to avoid his furious caresses, and whilst repulsing him, whilst shrinking from his mouth, she, despite herself, returned his kisses. All at once she ceased to struggle, and, vanquished, resigned, allowed him to undress her. One by one he neatly and rapidly stripped off the different articles of clothing with the light fingers of a lady’s maid. She had snatched her bodice from his hands to hide her face in it, and remained standing amidst the garments fallen at her feet. He seized her in his arms and bore her towards the couch. Then she murmured in his ear in a broken voice, “I swear to you, I swear to you, that I have never had a lover.”
And he thought, “That is all the same to me.”
375 In text “Ant’ amilta maskhará (for maskharah) matah (for matà),” idiomatical Fellah-tongue.
There was a man, a Shámí, who came to the God-guarded city of Misr al-Káhirah — Misr of Mars — and with him was a store of money and merchandize and sumptuous clothing. He hired for himself a room in a caravanserai, and having no slave, he was wont to go forth every day and roam about the city-thoroughfares and cater for himself. Now this continued for a while of time till one day of the days, as he was wandering and diverting his mind by looking to the right and to the left, he was met on the way by three women who were leaning and swaying one towards other as they walked on laughing aloud; and each and every of the three surpassed her fellow in beauty and loveliness. When he looked at them his mustachios curled377 at the sight and he accosted them and addressed the trio, saying, “May it be that ye will drink coffee in my lodging?” “Indeed we will,” said they, “and we will make mirth with thee and exceeding merriment, passing even the will of thee.” Quoth he, “When shall it be?” and quoth they, “To-night we will come to thy place.” He continued, “I am living in a room of Such-and-such a Wakálah.”378 and they rejoined, “Do thou make ready for us supper and we will visit thee after the hour of night-prayers.” He cried, “These words are well; “ so they left him and went their ways; and he, on the return way home, bought flesh and greens and wine and perfumes; then, having reached his room, he cooked five kinds of meats without including rice and conserves, and made ready whatso for the table was suitable. Now when it was supper-time behold, the women came in to him, all three wearing capotes379 over their dresses, and when they had entered they threw these cloaks off their shoulders and took their seats as they were moons. Hereupon the Syrian arose and set before them the food-trays and they ate their sufficiency, after which he served to them the table of wine, whereat they filled and passed to him and he accepted and swilled until his head whirled round, and as often as he looked at any one of them and considered her in her mould of beauty and loveliness he was perplext and his wits were wildered. They ceased not to be after such fashion until the noon o’ night. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
376 Scott (Appendix vol. vi. 460) simply called this tale “The Syrian.” In M. Clouston’s “Book of Noodles” (pp. 193–194) we find a man who is searching for three greater simpletons than his wife, calling himself “Saw ye ever my like?” It is quoted from Campbell’s “Popular Tales of the West Highlands” (ii. 385–387), but it lacks the canopic wit of the Arabo-Egyptian. I may note anent the anecdote of the Gabies (p. 201), who proposed, in order to make the tall bride on horseback enter the low village-gate, either to cut off her head or the legs of her steed, that precisely the same tale is told by the biting wits of Damascus concerning the boobies of Halbún. “Halbáún,” as these villagers call their ancient hamlet, is justly supposed to be the Helbon whose wine is mentioned by Ezekiel in the traffic of Damascus, although others less reasonably identify it with Halab=Aleppo.
377 In text “La’bat Shawáribu-hu”=lit. his mustachios played.
378 For the “Wakálah,” or caravanserai, see vol. i. 266.
379 In text “Kabút,” plur. Kabábít:
Oh! who is more brave than a dark Suliote,
In his snowy camise and his shaggy capote?“Childe Harold,” Canto II.
And here I cannot but notice the pitiful contrast (on the centenary of the poet’s nativity, Jan. 22nd, ’88) between the land of his birth and that of his death. The gallant Greeks honoured his memory with wreaths and panegyrics and laudatory articles, declaring that they will never forget the anniversaries of his nativity and his decease. The British Pharisee and Philistine, true to his miserable creed, ignored all the “real Lord Byron”— his generosity, his devotion to his friends, his boundless charity, and his enthusiasm for humanity. They exhaled their venom by carping at Byron’s poetry (which was and is to Europe a greater boon than Shakespeare’s), by condemning his morality (in its dirty sexual sense) and in prophesying for him speedy oblivion. Have these men no shame in presence of the noble panegyric dedicated by the Prince of German poets, Goethe, to his brother bard whom he welcomed as a prophet? Can they not blush before Heine (the great German of the future), before Flaubert, Alfred de Musset, Lamartine, Leopardi and a host of Italian, Spanish and Portuguese notables? Whilst England will not forgive Byron for having separated from his unsympathetic wife, the Literary society of Moscow celebrated his centenary with all honour; and Prof. Nicholas Storojenko delivered a speech which has found an echo
further west
Than his sires’ “Islands of the Blest.”He rightly remarked that Byron’s deadly sin in the eyes of the Georgian-English people was his Cosmopolitanism. He was the poetical representative of the Sturm und Drang period of the xixth century. He reflected, in his life and works, the wrath of noble minds at the collapse of the cause of freedom and the reactionary tendency of the century. Even in the distant regions of Monte Video Byron’s hundredth birthday was not forgotten, and Don Luis Desteffanio’s lecture was welcomed by literary society.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Syrian and the three ladies ceased not to persevere in the drinking of wine until the noon o’ night, at which time he would not distinguish between masculine and feminine from the excess of his wine-bibbing, so he said to one of the three, “Allah upon thee, O my lady, what may be the name of thee?” She replied, “I am hight ‘Hast-thou-seen-aught-like-me?’” Whereat he exclaimed, “No, Walláhi!” Then he up-propped himself on his elbow and rising from the ground said to the second, “Thou, O my lady, and life-blood of my heart, what is thy name?” She answered, “I am hight ‘Never-sawest-thou-my-like,’” and he replied, “Inshallah — what Allah willeth — O my lady Never-sawest-thou-my-like.” Then said he to the third, “And thou, O dearling of my heart, what may be the name of thee?” And said she, “I am hight ‘Look-at-me-and-thou-shalt-know-me.’” When he heard these words he cried out with a loud outcry and fell to the ground saying, “No, by Allah, O my lady Look-at-me-and-thou-shalt-know-me.”380 But when the three women regarded him his reason was upset and they forced upon him more wine-bibbing whilst he cried to them, “Fill for me, ho my lady Never-sawest-thou-my-like, and thou too, my lady Hast-thou-seen-aught-like-me, and eke thou, O my lady Look-at-me-and-thou-shalt-know-me.” And they drove him to drink still more until he fell to the ground without a vein swelling381 for he had become drunken and dead drunk. When they saw him in this condition they doffed his turband and crowned him with a cap, and fringes projecting from the peak,382 which they had brought with them; then they arose and finding in his room a box full of raiment and ready money, they rifled all that was therein. Presently they donned their dresses and, waiting until the door of the Wakalah was opened after the call to the morning-prayer, they went their ways and the Veiler vouchsafed them protection383 and they left the Syrian man in his room strown as a tried toper and unknowing what the women had done with him of their wile and guile. Now when it was the undurn-hour he awoke from his crapula and opening his eyes, cried, “Ho my lady Never-sawest-thou-my-like! and ho my lady Hast-thou-seen-aught-like-me! and ho my lady Look-at-me-and-thou-shalt-know-me!” But none returned to him any reply. Then he pulled himself together and glanced carefully around but his sight fell not upon anyone beside him, so he arose and went to the box wherein he found never a single thing. This restored him to his right senses and he recovered from his drink and cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great: this be a judgment they have wrought forme.” Then he went forth still wearing the tall fringed cap and knowing nothing of himself and, when he had issued from his caravanserai, he cried to everyone he met in the streets, “I am seeking Hast-thou-seen-aught-like-me?” and the men would reply, “No, I never sighted the like of thee;” and to a second he would say, “I am looking for one Never-sawest-thou-aught-like-me;” and the other would answer, “Indeed, I never beheld thy fellow;” then he would ask a third, “Hast thou seen one Look-at-me-and-thou-shalt-know-me?” and the questioned would answer, “Indeed, I have looked at thee but I know thee not at all.” And he ceased not wandering about, bonnet on head, and everyone who met him by the way returned to him the like replies until he came upon a party of folk who were in front of a barber’s booth.384 There he cried upon them also, “Ah! Hast-thou-seen-aught-like-me! and Ah! Never-sawest-thou-my-like! and Ah! Look-upon-me-and-thou-shalt-know-me!” Hereat, understanding that he was touched in brain and this was a judgment that had been wrought upon him, they seized him and forced him into the barber’s shop and bringing a mirror set it in his hands. When he looked therein he found a fool’s cap upon his head, so forthwith he tore it off and took thought and said to those present, “Who of you can guide me to those three women?” They said to him, “O Syrian, march off with thyself to thy own land for that the folk of Egypt can play with the egg and the stone.”385 So he arose without stay and delay; then, taking what provaunt was sufficient for the way and what little of fine raiment had been left to him, he quitted Cairo intending for his own country. Now the Emir hearing this tale of the Shahbandar wondered thereof with extreme wonderment and said to the Gentleman, “An thou have finished do thou fare forth and go about thy business.” Accordingly he went from him still garbed in gaberdine and bonnet on head when the house-master asked his wife, “Who of them here remaineth with thee?” And she answered, “Have patience and I will bring thee the third.” So she arose and opening another closet summoned the Flesher and taking him by the hand, whilst he was ashamed and abashed, led him till he stood before her spouse and the poor fellow availed not to raise his eyes from the ground. Presently the husband considered him and knew him and was certified that he was Such-and-such the Chief Butcher and head of the craft, so he said to him, “Ho thou the clever one, do thou dance for us a wee and after that tell us a tale.” Accordingly he stood up and clapped hands and fell to dancing and prancing till such time as he dropped down for fatigue; after which he said, “O my lord, I have by me a tale anent the craft and cunning of women.” Asked the other, “And what may it be?” and the Butcher began to relate the tale of
380 He cried out thinking of the mystical meaning of such name. So {Greek letters}, would mean in Sufí language — Learn from thyself what is thy Lord; — corresponding after a manner with the Christian “looking up through Nature to Nature’s God.”
381 The phrase prob. means so drunk that his circulation had apparently stopped.
382 This is the article usually worn by the professional buffoon. The cap of the “Sutarí” or jester of the Arnaut (Albanian) regiments — who is one of their professional braves — is usually a felt cone garnished with foxes’ brushes.
383 In Arab. “Sabbal alayhim (for Alayhinna, the usual masc. pro fem.) Al-Sattár”=lit. the Veiler let down a curtain upon them.
384 The barber being a surgeon and ever ready to bleed a madman.
385 i.e. Can play off equally well the soft-brained and the hard-headed.
It is told of a woman which was a fornicatress and adulteress and a companion of catastrophes and calamities that she was married to a Káim-makám386 who had none of the will of mankind to womankind, at all, at all. Now the wife was possessed of beauty and loveliness and she misliked him for that he had no desire to carnal copulation, and there was in the house a Syce-man who was dying for his love of her. But her husband would never quit his quarters, and albeit her longing was that the horse-keeper might possess her person and that she and he might lie together, this was impossible to her. She abode perplext for some sleight wherewith she might serve her mate, and presently she devised a device and said to him, “O my lord, verily my mother is dead and ’tis my wish to hie me and be present at her burial and receive visits of condolence for her; and, if she have left aught by way of heritage, to take it and then fare back to thee.” “Thou mayest go,” said he, and said she, “I dread to fare abroad alone and unattended; nor am I able to walk, my parent’s house being afar. Do thou cry out to the Syce that he fetch me hither an ass and accompany me to the house of my mother, wherein I shall lie some three nights after the fashion of folk.” Hereupon he called to the horse-keeper and when he came before him, ordered the man to bring an ass,387 and mount his mistress and hie with her; and the fellow, hearing these words, was hugely delighted. So he did as he was bidden, but instead of going to the house they twain, he and she, repaired to a garden carrying with them a flask of wine and disappeared for the whole day and made merry and took their pleasure388 until set of sun. Then the man brought up the ass and mounting her thereon went to his own home, where the twain passed the entire night sleeping in mutual embrace on each other’s bosoms, and took their joyance and enjoyment until it was morning tide. Hereupon he arose and did with her as before, leading her to the garden, and the two, Syce and dame, ceased not to be after this fashion for three days solacing themselves and making merry and tasting of love-liesse. On the fourth day he said to her, “Do thou return with us to the house of the Kaim-makam,” and said she, “No; not till we shall have spent together three days more enjoying ourselves, I and thou, and making merry till such time as I have had my full will of thee and thou thy full will of me; and leave we yon preposterous pimp to lie stretched out, as do the dogs,389 enfolding his head between his two legs.” So the twain ceased not amusing themselves and taking their joyance and enjoyment until they had ended the six days, and on the seventh they wended their way home. They found the Kaim-makam sitting beside a slave which was an old negress; and quoth he, “You have disappeared for a long while!” and quoth she, “Yes, until we had ended with the visits of condolence for that my mother was known to foyson of the folk. But, O my lord, my parent (Allah have ruth upon her!) hath left and bequeathed to me a somewhat exceeding nice.” “What may that be?” asked he, and answered she, “I will not tell thee aught thereof at this time, nor indeed until we remain, I and thou, in privacy of night, when I will describe it unto thee.”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
386 i.e. a deputy (governor, etc.); in old days the governor of Constantinople; in these times a lieutenant-colonel, etc.
387 Which, as has been said, is the cab of Modern Egypt, like the gondola and the caïque. The heroine of the tale is a Nilotic version of “Aurora Floyd.”
388 In text “Rafaka” and infrà (p. 11) “Zafaka.”
389 [In text “Misla ’l-Kalám,” which I venture to suggest is another clerical blunder for: “misla ’l-Kiláb”=as the dogs do. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the woman said to her husband, “My mother hath left and bequeathed to me somewhat, but I will not tell thee thereof till the coming night when we twain shall be alone.” “’Tis well,” said he; after which he continued to address himself, “Would Heaven I knew what hath been left by the mother of our Harím!”390 Now when darkness came on and he and she had taken seats together, he asked her, “What may be the legacy thy mother left?” and she answered, “O my lord, my mother hath bequeathed to me her Coynte being loath that it be given to other save myself and therefore I have brought it along with me.” Quoth he of his stupidity (for he was like unto a cosset),391 “Ho thou, solace me with the sight of thy mother’s Coynte.” Hereupon she arose; and, doffing all she had on her of dress until she was mother-naked, said to him, “O my lord, I have stuck on my mother’s Coynte hard by and in continuation of mine own cleft and so the twain of them have remained each adjoining other between my hips.” He continued, “Let me see it;” so she stood up before him and pointing to her parts, said, “This which faceth thee is my coynte whereof thou art owner;” after which she raised her backside and bowing her head groundwards showed the nether end of her slit between the two swelling cheeks of her sit-upon, her scat of honour, crying, “Look thou! this be the Coynte of my mother; but, O my lord, ’tis my wish that we wed it unto some good man and pleasant who is faithful and true and not likely treason to do, for that the Coynte of my mother must abide by me and whoso shall intermarry therewith I also must bow down to him whilst he shall have his will thereof.” Quoth the Kaim-makam, “O sensible say! but we must seek and find for ourselves a man who shall be agreeable and trustworthy,” presently adding, “O woman, we will not give the Coynte of thy mother in marriage to some stranger lest he trouble thee and trouble me also; so let us bestow this boon upon our own Syce.” Replied the wife of her craft and cursedness, “Haply, O my lord, the horsekeeper will befit us not;”, yet the while she had set her heart upon him. Rejoined the Kaim-makam her husband, “If so it be that he have shown thee want of respect we will surely relieve him of his lot.” But after so speaking he said a second time, “’Tis better that we give the Coynte of thy mother to the Syce;” and she retorted, “Well and good! but do thou oblige him that he keep strait watch upon himself.” Hereat the man summoned his servant before him and said to him, “Hear me, O Syce; verily the mother of my wife to her hath bequeathed her Coynte, and ’tis our intent to bestow it upon thee in lawful wedlock; yet beware lest thou draw near that which is our own property.” The horsekeeper answered, “No, O my lord, I never will.” Now after they arrived at that agreement concerning the matter in question, whenever the wife waxed hot with heat of lust she would send for the Syce and take him and repair with him, he and she, to a place of privacy within the Harem, whilst her mate remained sitting thoroughly satisfied, and they would enjoy themselves to the uttermost, after which the twain would come forth together. And the Kaim-makam never ceased saying on such occasions, “Beware, O Syce, lest thou poach upon that which is my property;” and at such times the wife would exclaim, “By Allah, O my lord, he is a true man and a trusty.” So they continued for a while392 in the enjoyment of their luxury and this was equally pleasurable to the husband and wife and the lover. Now when the Emir heard this tale from the Butcher, he began laughing until he fell upon his back and anon he said to him, “Wend thy ways about thine own work;” so the Flesher went forth from him not knowing what he should do in his garb of gaberdine and bonnet. Hereupon the woman arose and going to the fourth closet threw it open and summoned and led the Trader man by the hand and set him before her husband who looked hard at him in his droll’s dress and recognised him and was certified of him that he was his neighbour. So he said, “Ho Such-an-one! Thou art our neighbour and never did we suspect that thou wouldst strive to seduce our Harím;393 nay rather did we expect thee to keep watch and ward over us and fend off from us all evil.394 Now by Allah, those whom we have dismissed wrought us no foul wrong even as thou wroughtest us in this affair; for thou at all events art our neighbour. Thou deservest in this matter that I slay thee out of hand, but Default cometh not save from the Defaulter; therefore I will do thee no harm at all as did I with thy fellows even save that needs must thou tell us a tale whereby to rejoice us.”395 Quoth he, “Hearing and obeying,” and herewith fell to relating the story of
390 i.e. My wife. In addition to notes in vols. i. 165, and iv. 9, 126, I would observe that “Harím” (women) is the broken plur. of “Hurmah;” from Haram, the honour of the house, forbidden to all save her spouse. But it is also an infinitive whose plur. is Harîmát=the women of a family; and in places it is still used for the women’s apartment, the gynaeceum. The latter by way of distinction I have mostly denoted by the good old English corruption “Harem.”
391 In text “Misla ’l-khárúf” (for Kharúf) a common phrase for an “innocent,” a half idiot, so our poets sing of “silly (harmless, Germ. Selig) sheep.”
392 In text this ends the tale.
393 In text “Wa lá huwa ’ashamná min-ka talkash ’alà Harimi-ná.” “’Ashama,” lit.=he greeded for; and “Lakasha”=he conversed with. [There is no need to change the “talkas” of the text into “talkash.” “Lakasa” is one of the words called “Zidd,” i.e. with opposite meanings: it can signify “to incline passionately towards,” or “to loath with abhorrence.” As the noun “Laks” means “itch” the sentence might perhaps be translated: “that thou hadst an itching after our Harím.” What would lead me to prefer the reading of the MS. is that the verb is construed with the preposition “’alà”=upon, towards, for, while “lakash,” to converse, is followed by “ma’”=with. — ST.]
394 Such was the bounden duty of a good neighbour.
395 He does not insist upon his dancing because he looks upon the offence as serious, but he makes him tell his tale — for the sake of the reader.
It is related that once upon a time there was a man which was an astronomer396 and he had a wife who was singular in beauty and loveliness. Now she was ever and aye boasting and saying to him “O man, there is not amongst womankind my peer in nobility397 and chastity;” and as often as she repeated this saying to him he would give credit to her words and cry, “Walláhi, no man hath a wife like unto the lady my wife for high caste and continence!” Now he was ever singing her praises in every assembly; but one day of the days as he was sitting in a séance of the great, who all were saying their says anent womankind and feminine deeds and misdeeds, the man rose up and exclaimed, “Amongst women there is none like my wife, for that she is pure of blood and behaviour;” hereat one of those present said to him, “Thou liest, O certain person!”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that while the man was singing the praises of his spouse one of those present rose and said to him, “Walláhi, thou liest, O certain person!” “Wherein do I lie?” quoth he, and quoth the other, “I will teach thee and show thee manifestly whether thy wife be a lady or a whore. Do thou rise up from amongst us and hie thee home and go thou in to her and say, ‘O woman, I am intent upon travelling to a certain place and being absent for a matter of four days and after will return; so do thou arise, O woman, and bring me some bread and a mould of cheese by way of viaticum.’ Then go thou forth from beside her and disappear for a while; and presently returning home hide thee in a private place without uttering a word.” Cried those present, “By Allah, indeed these words may not be blamed.” Accordingly, the man went forth from them and fared till he entered his house where he said, “O woman, bring me something of provision for a journey: my design is to travel and to be absent for a space of four days or haply six.” Cried the wife, “O my lord, thou art about to desolate me nor can I on any wise bear parting from thee; and if thou needs must journey do thou take me with thee.” Now when the man heard these the words of his wife he said to himself, “By Allah, there cannot be the fellow of my spouse amongst the sum of womankind,” presently adding to her, “I shall be away from four to six days but do thou keep watch and ward upon thyself and open not my door to anyone at all.” Quoth she, “O Man, how canst thou quit me?398 and indeed I cannot suffer such separation.” Quoth he, “I shall not long be separated from thee;” and so saying he fared forth from her and disappeared for the space of an hour, after which he returned home softly walking and hid himself in a place where none could see him. Now after the space of two hours behold, a Costermonger399 came into the house and she met him and salam’d to him and said, “What hast thou brought for me?” “Two lengths of sugar-cane,” said he, and said she, “Set them down in a corner of the room.” Then he asked her, “Whither is thy husband gone?” and she answered, “On a journey: may Allah never bring him back nor write his name among the saved and our Lord deliver me from him as soon as possible!” After this she embraced him and he embraced her and she kissed him and he kissed her and enjoyed her favours till such time as he had his will of her; after which he went his ways. When an hour had passed a Poulterer400 came to the house, whereupon she arose and salam’d to him and said, “What hast thou brought me?” He answered, “A pair of pigeon-poults;” so she cried, “Place them under yon vessel.”401 Then the man went up to the woman and he embraced her and she embraced him and he tumbled402 her and she tumbled him; after which he had his will of her and presently he went off about his own business. When two hours or so had gone by there came to her another man which was a Gardener;403 so she arose and met him with a meeting still fairer than the first two and asked him, “What hast thou brought with thee?” “A somewhat of pomegranates,” answered he; so she took them from him and led him to a secret place where she left him and changed her dress and adorned herself and perfumed herself and Kohl’d404 her eyes. After that she returned to the pomegranate-man and fell a-toying with him and he toyed with her and she hugged him and he hugged her and at last he rogered and had his wicked will of her and went his ways. Hereupon the woman doffed her sumptuous dress and garbed herself in her everyday garment. All this and the husband was looking on through the chinks of the door behind which he was lurking and listening to whatso befel, and when all was ended he went forth softly and waited awhile and anon returned home. Hereupon the wife arose and her glance falling upon her husband she noted him and accosted him and salam’d to him and said, “Hast thou not been absent at all?” Said he, “O Woman, there befel me a tale on the way which may not be written on any wise, save with foul water upon disks of dung,405 and indeed I have endured sore toil and travail, and had not Allah (be He praised and exalted!) saved me therefrom, I had never returned.” Quoth his wife, “What hath befallen thee?”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent, and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
398 In text “Azay má tafút-ní?”
399 In the Arab. “Rajul Khuzarí”=a green-meat man. [The reading “Khuzarí” belongs to Lane, M.E. ii. 16, and to Bocthor. In Schiaparelli’s Vocabulista and the Muhít the form “Khuzrí” is also given with the same meaning. — ST.]
400 [In text “Farárijí,” as if the pl. of “Farrúj”=chicken were “Farárij” instead of “Faráríj.” In modern Egyptian these nouns of relation from irregular plurals to designate tradespeople not only drop the vowel of the penultimate but furthermore, shorten that of the preceding syllable, so that “Farárijí” becomes “Fararjí.” Thus “Sanádikí,” a maker of boxes, becomes “Sanadkí,” and “Dakhákhiní, a seller of tobacco brands,” “Dakhakhní.” See Spitta Bey’s Grammar, p. 118. — ST.]
401 In the Arab. “Al-Májúr,” for “Maajúr”=a vessel, an utensil.
402 In text “shaklaba” here=”shakala”=he weighed out (money, whence the Heb. Shekel), he had to do with a woman.
403 [The trade of the man is not mentioned here, p. 22 of the 5th vol. of the MS., probably through negligence of the copyist, but it only occurs as far lower down as p. 25. — ST.]
404 A certain reviewer proposes “stained her eyes with Kohl,” showing that he had never seen the Kohl-powder used by Asiatics.
405 [“Bi-Má al-fasíkh ’alà Akrás al-Jullah.” “Má al-Fasíkh”=water of salt-fish, I would translate by “dirty brine” and “Akrás al-Jullah” by “dung-cakes,” meaning the tale should be written with a filthy fluid for ink upon a filthy solid for paper, more expressive than elegant. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the wife asked the husband saying, “What hath befallen thee on thy way?” And he answered, “O Woman, when I went forth the town and took the road, behold, a basilisk issued from his den and coming to the highway stretched himself therealong, so I was unable to step a single footstep; and indeed, O Woman, his length was that of yon sugar cane, brought by the Costermonger and which thou placedst in the corner. Also he had hair upon his head like the feathers of the pigeon-poults presented to thee by the Poulterer-man, and which thou hast set under the vessel; and lastly, O Woman, his head was like the pomegranates which thou tookest from the Market Gardener406 and carriedst within the house.” Whenas the wife heard these words, she lost command of herself and her right senses went wrong and she became purblind and deaf, neither seeing nor hearing, because she was certified that her spouse had sighted and eye-witnessed what she had wrought of waywardness and frowardness. Then the man continued to her, “O Whore! O Fornicatress! O Adulteress! How durst thou say to me, ‘There is not amongst womankind my better in nobility and purity’? and this day I have beheld with my own eyes what thy chastity may be. So do thou take thy belongings and go forth from me and be off with thyself to thine own folk.” And so saying he divorced her with the triple divorce and thrust her forth the house. Now when the Emir heard the aforetold tale from his neighbour, he rejoiced therein; this being a notable wile of the guiles of womankind which they are wont to work with men for “Verily great is their craft.”407 And presently he dismissed the fourth lover, his neighbour, even as he had freed the other three, and never again did such trouble befal him and his wife, or from Kazi or from any other.408 And to the same purport (quoth Shahrazad), to wit, the sleights and snares of the sex, they also tell the tale of
406 “Al-Janínáti”; or, as the Egyptians would pronounce the word, “Al-Ganínátí”. [Other Egyptian names for gardener are “Janáiní,” pronounced “Ganáiní,” “Bustánjí” pronounced “Bustangi,” with a Turkish termination to a Persian noun, and “Bakhshawángí,” for Baghchawánjí,” where the same termination is pleonastically added to a Persian word, which in Persian and Turkish already means “gardener.”— ST.]
407 A Koranic quotation from “Joseph,” chap. xii. 28: Sale has “for verily your cunning is great,” said by Potiphar to his wife.
408 I have inserted this sentence, the tale being absolutely without termination. So in the Mediaeval Lat. translations the MSS. often omit “explicit capitulum (primum). Sequitur capitulum secundum,” this explicit being a sine qua non.
There lived at the Court of a certain King a man wherewith he was wont to jest and this droll was unmated. So one day of the days the Sultan said to him, “O Man, thou art a bachelor, so suffer us to marry thee,” and said the buffoon, “No, O King of the Age; allow me to remain in single blessedness, for in womankind there is no rest and they work many a wile, and indeed I fear lest haply we fall upon one who shall be of the fornicatresses, the adulteresses.” Quoth the King, “There is no help but that thou wed;” and quoth the Droll, “’Tis well, O King of the Age.” Hereupon the Sultan sent to summon the Wazir and bade him betroth the man to a woman of righteous conduct and come of decent folk. Now the Minister had with him an old nurse, and he commanded her to find a match for the Sultan’s Jester; whereupon she rose and went out from him and engaged for the man a beautiful woman. And presently the marriage-tie was tied between these twain and he went in unto the bride and she tarried with him a while of time even half a year or may be seven months. Now one day of the days the King’s Jester went forth his house ere the dawn-prayer had been called on some business for the Sultan, intending to return before rise of sun. Such was the case with him; but as regards his wife, she had known when yet unmarried four men who to her were the liefest of her companions and who, during the earlier days of her wedding, had not been able to possess her. However, on the morning when her husband fared forth from her before the call to dawn-prayers, each and every of these four favoured lovers made up their minds to visit their playmate. Now one of them was a Pieman409 and the second was an Herbalist410, the third was a Flesher and the fourth was the Shaykh of the Pipers411. When the Droll went forth from his wife behold, the Pieman came and rapped at the door, whereat she opened to him and said, “Thou hast come betimes,” and said he, “I have minced the meat and I desired to work it up when I found that the hour was too early and that no one was in the market. So I said to myself, ‘Up with thee and go to Such-and-such a woman’” “’Tis well,” quoth she; but when they desired to make merry together, of a sudden the door was knocked; so quoth he to her, “Who is this?” and quoth she to him, “I know not, but do thou hie and hide thee in yonder closet.” He did her bidding, whereupon she went forth and threw open the door when behold, it was the Herbalist and she said to him, “This is a time betimes.” Said he, “By Allah, I was nighting in the garden and I have brought these sweet-scented herbs, and as the hour was over-early I said to myself, ‘Go thou to Such-and-such a woman and make merry, thou and she, for a wee.’” So she let him in; but hardly had he settled himself in his seat when suddenly the door was again rapped and he asked her, “Who is this?” and she answered, “I know not, but do thou hie and hide thee in yonder closet.” So he went in and found the Pieman there seated and said to him, “What thing mayest thou be?”412 and said the other, “I and thou are each like other.” Meanwhile the woman had gone forth and opened the door when behold, she was met by the Flesher whom she led within and then said to him, “This is a time betimes.” Quoth he, “By Allah, I arose from sleep and slaughtered a ram413 and prepared the flesh for selling when I found that the hour was over-early and said I to myself, ‘Take thee a piece of mutton flesh and go thou in to a certain person and enjoy yourselves, thou and she, until the Bazar shall have opened.’” But hardly had he taken seat when came a fourth knock at the door and as he heard this he was wonderstruck; so she said to him, “Fear not, but hie thee and hide thee within yonder closet.” Accordingly he went in and found the Pieman and the Herbalist there sitting and he salam’d to the twain who returned his salute; then he asked them, “What hath brought you hither?” and they answered, “That which brought us brought also thee.” He took seat with them while the woman went and threw open the door and behold, she was met by her friend the Shaykh of the Pipers belonging to the Sultan, so she brought him in and said to him, “Indeed thy time is betimes.” Said he, “Walláhi, I went forth my home intending to fare and prepare the band414 in the Royal Palace when I found the hour was over-early, so said I to myself, ‘Hie thee to a certain person and make ye merry, thou and she, until the sun shall rise and thou art bound to wend palace- wards.’” “’Tis well,” quoth she and seated him and designed to take seat beside him when behold, came a rap at the door and he cried, “Who is that?” and she replied, “Allah only is Omniscient, but haply ’tis my husband.” So he was startled and afeard, and when she whispered to him, “Up and enter yon closet,” he did her bidding and found a facing him therein the Pieman and the Herbalist and the Flesher to whom he said, “Peace be upon you,” and when they returned his greeting he asked them, “Ye, who brought you?” They answered him saying, “That which brought us also brought thee.” After this he sat beside them and the four remained seated in the closet and huddled together, whilst each addressed himself saying, “What now wilt thou do?” Meanwhile the woman suddenly went forth and opened the door when behold, it was her mate the Droll who walked in and took seat; whereupon she asked him, “And thou, why hast thou come at such an hour? ’tis not often thy wont to return early from the King’s presence. Haply thou art unwell, for thy custom is not to appear until near supper-tide and now thou hast forestalled our meeting-time and hast returned a-morn. I suspect that he hath bespoken thee concerning some matter of urgent matters that thou comest home at this hour; but haply thou wilt finish off such business and hie thee back to the Sultan.” Quoth he, “By Allah, O Woman, when I fared forth hence and went to the King I found that he had many and important affairs to settle, so he said, ‘Hie thee to thy home and abide therein nor return to me till after the third day.’"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent, and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
409 In text “Fatáirí” = a maker of “Fatírah” = pancake, or rather a kind of pastry rolled very thin, folded over like a napkin, saturated with butter and eaten with sugar or honey poured over it.
410 In Arab. “Nayízáti,” afterwards “Nuwayzátí,” and lastly “Rayhání” (p. 34)=a man who vends sweet and savoury herbs. We have neither the craft nor the article, so I have rendered him by “Herbalist.”
411 In text a “Mihtár”=a prince, a sweeper, a scavenger, the Pers. “Mihtar,” still used in Hindostani. [In Quatremère’s Histoire des Sultans Mamlouks “Mihtar” occurs also in the sense of superintendent, of head-equerry, and of chief of a military band. See Dozy Supp. s. v. — ST.]
412 “Ant’ aysh” for “man,” decidedly not complimentary, “What (thing) art thou?”
413 Arab. “Kabsh.” Amongst the wilder tubes of the East ram’s mutton is preferred because it gives the teeth more to do: on the same principle an old cock is the choicest guest-gift in the way of poultry.
414 “Naubah,” lit.=a period, keeping guard, and here a band of pipes and kettledrums playing before the doors of a great man at certain periods.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the King’s Jester went in to his wife she said, “Thou, wherefore hast thou come so early?” and said he, “By Allah, the Sultan hath much and important business and said to me, ‘Hie thee home, and tarry there and return not to me save after the third day.’” Now when the four men who were closeted together heard these words they were perplext as to their affair, and said one to other, “What shall we do? Indeed we are unable to sit out three days in this stead.” Hereupon the Pieman said to them, “Nay, rather let us play a prank whereby we may escape,” and said they, “What may be the device thou wouldest devise?” Quoth he, “Whatso I do that do ye look upon and then act in like guise,” and so speaking he arose and taking his minced meat fell to sticking it upon his skin until he was like a leper covered with sores.415 Then he went forth the closet to the husband of the mistress, and cried, “The Peace be upon you!” The man returned his salute and asked him, “What art thou?” to which he made answer “I am the Prophet Job the Ulcered, where is the way out of this?” “Here,” cried the Jester, upon which Job passed out of the door and went about his business and on such wise made his escape. Next the Herbalist stood up and opening his basket brought out fragrant herbs and fell to scattering them over his sconce and about it and over his ears,416 till such time as all his face was hidden in greens, after which he also went out and accosting the house-master said, “The Peace be upon you!” And when the man returned the salam he asked him, “Hath Job the Ulcered passed by thee on this path?” “Indeed he hath,” said the other; “but what mayst thou be?” “I am Al-Khizr, the Green Prophet” (upon whom be The Peace),417 and so saying he brushed by the Droll and passed through the door. Now when the second lover had gone forth and escaped, the Flesher arose and donning the ram’s skin set its horns upon his head and began crawling out of the closet upon all fours, hands and knees, until he stood before the husband of his beloved, and said to him, “The Peace be upon you!” “And upon you be The Peace,” returned the other, “What mayst thou be?” “I am Iskandar, Lord of the Two Horns,” cried the other; “say me, have there passed by thee Job the Ulcered and Al-Khizr the Green Prophet (upon whom be The Peace)?” Quoth the house-master, “They went by this place and forewent thee.” So the third lover passed through the doorway and escaped, and presently the Shaykh of the Pipers rose to his feet and applying the mouthpiece of his pipe to his lips went up to his mistress’s mate and said, “The Peace be upon you!” and on the man returning his salam, asked him, “Hath it so happened that Job the Ulcered and Al Khizr the Green Prophet and Iskandar Lord of the Two Horns passed this way?” “They have,” answered the other, “What art thou?” Cried he, “I am Israfil,418 and ’tis my design forthright to blow the Last Trump.” Hereupon the Droll straightway arose and laid hands upon him crying, “Yállah, Yállah,419 O my brother, blow not at all until we shall have gone, I and thou, to the Sultan.” So saying he took him by the hand and fared forth with him and ceased not faring until he had carried him into the presence, when the King asked, “Wherefore hast thou arrested this man?” Answered he, “O King of the Age, this is our Lord Israfil and ’twas his intent to blow the Last Trump, so I forbade him therefrom until such time as I had brought him for thee to look upon, lest haply he might so have done without thy knowledge, and said I to myself, ‘By Allah, better set him before the Sultan ere he sound his Trumpet.’ Furthermore I do pray for thy welfare, O King of the Age, inasmuch as thou hast married me to this dame because I had fear of her lest she company with strange men. But I found her a saintly woman who admitted none of mankind save that to-day when I went forth from thee at morning-tide I turned me homewards and going into my house caught with her three Prophets and one Archangel and this is he who intended to blow the Last Trump.” Hereupon quoth the Sultan to him, “O Man, art thou Jinn mad? How canst thou have found with thy spouse any of the Prophets as thou sayest?” And quoth he, “By Allah, O King of the Age, whatso hath befallen me that I have reported to thee nor have I hidden from thee aught.” The King asked, “Which was he of the Prophets thou foundest beside thy wife?” and he answered, “The Prophet Job (on whom be The Peace) and after him came forth to me from a closet the Prophet Al-Khizr (on whom be the Peace!), and after him Iskandar Lord of the Two Horns (on whom be the Peace!) and lastly this the fourth is the Archangel Israfil.” The Sultan marvelled at his words, and exclaimed, “Laud to the Lord! Verily this man whom thou entitlest Israfil is naught but the Shaykh of my Pipers.” “I wist naught, O King of the Age,” said the other, “but I have related to thee what hath occurred and what I beheld and eyewitnessed.” Hereupon the Sultan understood that the wife had friends who forgathered with her, and who had served her husband with such sleight, so he said to the musician, “O man, unless thou tell me truly what happened I will cut off thy head.” Thereupon the Shaykh of the Pipers arose, and kissing ground before the Sultan, said to him, “O King of the Age, give me promise of immunity and I will relate to thee all that befel.” Quoth the King, “’Tis upon condition that thou tell no lies;” and quoth the other, “O King of the Age, verily, I will shun leasing.”420 So the King gave him a pledge of safety, and the Shaykh described everything that had been done and kept nothing back, and when the King heard the story and the trick which had been wrought by the woman’s friends he marvelled thereat and cried, “Allah kill all womankind,421 the fornicatresses, the adulteresses, the traitresses!” After which he despatched a posse of the Chamberlains to bring into his presence the four persons. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
415 In text “Al-Mubtali.”
416 Arab. “Hawwálín”; the passage is apparently corrupt. [“Hawálín” is clerical error for either “hawálà"=all around, or “Hawálí” = surroundings, surrounding parts, and “Audán” is pl. of the popular “Widn” or “Wudn” for the literary “Uzn,” ear. — ST.]
417 The exclamation would be uttered by the scribe or by Shahrazad. I need hardly remind the reader that “Khizr” is the Green Prophet and here the Prophet of greens.
418 For “Isráfíl”=Raphael, the Archangel who will blow the last trump, see vol. ii. 287.
419 Gen. meaning “Look sharp,” here syn. with “Allah! Allah!"=I conjure thee by God. Vol. i. 346.
420 A Persian would say, “I am a Irání but Walláhi indeed I am not lying.”
421 [This sentence of wholesale extermination passed upon womankind, reminds me of the Persian lines which I find quoted in ‘Abdu ‘l-Jalíl’s History of the Barmecides:
Agar nek búdí Zan u Ráy-i-Zan
Zan-rá Ma-zan Nám búdí, na Zan,
and which I would render Anglicè:
If good there were in Woman and her way
Her name would signify ”Slay not,” not “Slay.”
“Zan” as noun=woman; as imp. of “zadan”=strike, kill, whose negative is “mazan."— ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King despatched a posse of his Chamberlains to bring into his presence the four persons who were lovers to the Droll’s wife, and he found the first to be a Pieman who had claimed the rank of our lord Job (on whom be The Peace!), and the second to be a Market-Gardener who sold savoury herbs and all manner fragrant growths, and he had made himself out to be Al-Khizr (on whom be The Peace!), and the third to be a Butcher who had passed himself off as Iskandar, Lord of the Two Horns (on whom be The Peace!); whilst the fourth, whom the Jester had brought, and who declared that he was the Archangel Israfil, and was about to blow the Last Trump, proved to be the Shaykh of the Pipers. Now when the four were before the King he gave orders to castrate them all save the Shaykh422 this being the award of him who lewdly frequenteth the women of the royal household. Hereupon they gelded them, and each one who was made a eunuch died without stay and delay; and the Droll divorced his wife and sent her about her business.
I have also by me (said Shahrazad) another tale concerning the wiles of womankind, and it is that of
422 In the text the Shaykh, to whom “Amán” was promised, is also gelded, probably by the neglect of the scribe.
It is related that in Misr of Káhir there was a man who had reached the age of fourscore and ten years, and he was a chief-watchman of the ward in the service of the Wáli; a brave man withal, and one not wont to be startled or afeard. Now one night as he was going around about the city with the Chief of Police, and he was returning to the guard-house424 before break o’ day that he might perform the Wuzú-ablution, and at the call to dawn-prayers he might rise and repeat them, it so fortuned that when he was about to stand up to his orisons, according to the custom of him, suddenly a purse fell before him upon the ground. As soon as he had done with his devotions he arose and gazed around to see who had thrown him that bag of money, but he could find nobody; so he took it up and opened it, when an hundred dinars met his sight. Hereat he wondered; but on the following day when he had washed and was praying, behold, a second purse was cast at his feet; so he waited until he had finished his orisons and then stood up and looked around to see who had thrown it. Thereupon, as he failed to find any, he took it up and opened it and again beheld an hundred dinars, a matter which filled him with wonder. This continued till the third day at morning-tide, when he had washed as was his wont and stood up to his prayers, and lo and behold! another purse was dropped at his feet. Herewith he cut short his devotions, and turning him round saw beside him a girl whose years had reached fifteen; so he seized her and said, “Who art thou, and what is the reason of thy throwing at my feet every day a purse of an hundred gold pieces, and this is the third time; argal the sum amounteth to three hundred. What may be this case?” Said she, “O my lord, my name is Fátimah, and my wish and will is a matter which thou canst bring to an end for me by means of thy tongue!” Quoth he, “What is’t thou wantest of me?” and quoth she, “’Tis my intent that on the morrow I sham drunkenness with wine and cast myself before the mansion of the Kazi of the Army.425 Thou shalt find me there strown upon the ground and dressed in all the best of my clothes and finest ornaments. So when thou shalt come to that quarter and espy me lying there in drink do thou bid the Linkman move the links to and fro; then come forward, O Mukaddam,426 and investigate the case and examine me, and say the Wali, ‘This girl is in liquor.’ The Chief of Police shall reply to thee, ‘Take her and carry her to the watch-house and keep her there till day-break.’"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
423 This tale is a variant of “The First Constable’s History:” Suppl. Nights, vol. ii. 3-11.
424 In text “Al-Bawwábah”=a place where door-keepers meet, a police-station; in modern tongue “Karakol,” for “Karaghol-khánah”=guard-house.
425 In text ‘Kází al-‘Askar”=the great legal authority of a country: vol. vi. 131.
426 Anglo-Indice “Mucuddum”=overseer, etc., vol. iv. 42.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the girl to the Mukaddam, “And when thou shalt have found me drunken with wine, the Wali shall bid thee, ‘Take her to the watch-house and there keep her till daybreak.’ Hereto do thou object, ‘No! this were not suitable: I will cry upon someone of the quarter and will awake the Kazi of the Army, for that she belongeth to his ward.’ Then assemble all thy folk and say to them, ‘Verily this girl is in liquor and not mistress of herself at such time; needs must she be of a great family and daughter to grandees; therefore ’twere not proper that we take her with us to the watch-house; nor let any hold her in his charge save the Kazi of the Army till morning and until such time as she shall have recovered her senses and can fare to her own folk.’” Hereupon quoth the Mukaddam to her, “Easy enough!” and quoth she, “An thou act on this wise and my success be from thy hand, I will give thee five hundred dinars besides the three hundred.” “This matter is not far to us,”427 said he; so she left him and went away. Now when it was the season after night-prayers, the Chief of Police came forth his quarters and, repairing to the watch-house and taking the Mukaddam and his men, would have threaded the highways of Cairo as was his wont, but the head Gate-Keeper forewent him and took the direction of the quarter wherein dwelt the Kazi of the Army; the Wali unknowing the while what was in the man’s thought. They ceased not faring until they entered that part of the town wherein stood the Judge’s house, and when they approached it, lo and behold! the Mukaddam found a something strown upon the ground. So said he to the Linkman who carried the light, “O my son, do thou shake the torch,” and when he moved the link to and fro it illumined the whole quarter. Then the Gate-Keeper came forward; and, looking at what was lying there, found it to be a damsel in liquor dressed out with sumptuous dress and adorned with all her ornaments: so he said to the Wali, “O my Chief,428 this girl is drunken with wine and hath fallen on the ground;” and said the Chief of Police, “Take her up and carry her to the watch-house until morning.” Hereupon quoth the Mukaddam, “No! this were not fitting; nor is it possible for the like of this girl. She is in the ward of the Kazi al’-Askar, to whose household haply she belongeth or to some great man in the quarter, and we fear lest befal her of evil matters some matter and we shall come to be transgressors.” Hereupon, after applying some remedy to the damsel, they made her sit up and presently they called aloud upon the people of the quarter and awoke the Judge and when all the folk came out in a body the Wali said to them, “Look ye upon this girl; peradventure you may know whose daughter she is.” They came forward and examined her and found her garbed in sumptuous garments and trickt out with the whole of her ornaments, whereupon the Chief of Police and the Mukaddam of the Watchmen said to them, “Indeed ’tis not possible for us to remove yon maiden from this place; so do you take her to your homes until morning-tide when she shall recover and be able to care for herself and then fare to her own folk.” Hereat they made agreement that none should lodge her in his house save the Kazi of the Army; so a party of the servants raised her and led her to his mansion and set her in a chamber hard by the open saloon; after which each and every of them fared forth to sleep in his own place. On this wise it befel the Wali and the Mukaddam and the Kazi and the folk of the ward; but as regards the affair of the damsel whom they found stretched on the ground as one drunken, she on entering the Kazi’s abode pulled herself together and recovered herself, for that she had wrought all this wily work for the special purpose of being led into the house there to carry out her wish and will. Presently the Judge lay down and was drowned in slumber and knew not what Allah had destined to him from the plans and projects of the girl who, rising up at midnight, opened the door of her chamber leading into the saloon where the Kazi al-‘Askar kept all his hoards and coin429 and dresses and belongings. Now she had appointed her people to meet her at that house, so they came and carried off the whole of what was in the saloon nor did they leave aught therein, at all, at all, save only the matting. And when dawned the morn, the Kazi of the Army arose and repaired to the saloon, as was his wont, for the purpose of dressing, but he found therein nothing except the matting. So he buffeted his face with his palms and wailed aloud whereat a party of his servants came to him and asked, “What is the matter with thee, O our lord the Kazi?” then, on going into the saloon they remarked that it had been gutted of everything. So they went from him and threw open the door of the chamber wherein they had placed the damsel but they found her nowhere. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Kazi’s folk went and threw open the door of the chamber wherein the damsel had slept; and, when they found nothing therein, they were certified it was she who had carried away the goods. After such fashion it happened to these; but as regards the action of the Judge, he took horse and wended his way to the Sultan, and he ceased not wending till he had entered the presence and salam’d and blessed the Sovran who returned his salute. Then cried he, “O King of the Age, there hath befallen me that which is so-and-so, and I have a claim on the Chief of Police and the Mukaddam of the watch, for that indeed they were the men who bade me admit the girl into my home, and this guest of mine hath left me nor muchel nor little.” Hereupon the King bade summon the men with their many, and when they came before him, he bade strike off the heads of the two head men; but they said to him, “O King of the Age, grant us three days’ respite and, if aught discover itself to us and we rid ourselves of the responsibility, we shall be saved; but an we avail not thereto, the sword of the Sultan is long.” “Go forth,” cried the King; “I have granted you a three days’ delay; if you bring the offender ’tis well, and if not, your heads shall be in lieu thereof and eke so your families and your properties.” Hearing this they sued for dismissal, and the Wali went forth to search in this way and wander in one direction and the Mukaddam in another. They roamed about Cairo for two full-told days, but naught happened to them until the third about the call to noontide-prayers, when the Mukaddam entered a narrow street on the side of the city to the west, and behold, a door opened and a speaker spake saying, “O Mukaddam, who is behind the door?” So he turned towards the sound and said, “’Tis well,” and the other cried, “Come thou and draw near to me.” He did so and approached the entrance when suddenly he saw the damsel who had shammed drunkenness430 and whom they had introduced into the Kazi al-‘Askar’s house. Now when he accosted her and recognised her, he seized her and she asked him, “Wherefore dost thou arrest me and what is thine intent to do with me?” “We will carry thee to the Sultan,” answered he, “and I and the Wali shall be set free. During the last three days I have done nothing but wander about in search of thee who hast wrought for us such work and after hast fled from us.” Quoth the girl, “O clever one, had I designed the ruin of you I had never made myself manifest to thee, nor couldst thou have met me or forgathered with me: however, I will now work at freeing you from the hands of the Sultan, that both thou and the Wali may escape and that you twain may take from the Judge of the Army whatever of good you want and will.” Quoth he, “How shall we do?” and quoth she, “I have by me a white slave-girl the very likeness of myself and at this time I have dressed her in my dresses and decorations and have cut her throat, and by my cleverness and force of heart I have caused her to be carried to a ruin hard by the Kazi’s house and have had her buried therein and have set over her a slab. So do thou fare hence and taking the Wali seek the Sultan and say to him, ‘We have wandered about Misr, the whole thereof, but we have found naught of our want, and now nothing remaineth to us save the house of the Kazi al-‘Askar; so we desire to search therein and, if we find that damsel murthered, we will gather together the folk of the quarter who saw us before that they may look upon her; and be the Judge also standing by that we may ask the people, ‘What say ye concerning this maiden?’ when haply they may reply, ‘This is the girl which was drunken with wine.’ And as soon as they shall bear witness that it is the same, you twain shall stay behind to converse with the Judge as ye desire and take from him whatever you wish and will; and he shall sue you for grace and for aidance. Then will he go up to the King and report to him saying, ‘I have found my debtor and I have recovered from him all my good;’ whereupon you shall be set free and eke I shall be freed. And finally do ye come hither to me and we will divide all the plunder I have taken from the Kazi’s house.” Now when the damsel had made the old Watchman understand these words, he left her, and going to the Wali, informed him of the whole affair and reported all that the girl had communicated to him of treachery and plottings, whereupon the Chief of Police took horse, and accompanied by the Mukaddam, rode to the Palace — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
430 I carefully avoid the obnoxious term “intoxication” which properly means “poisoning,” and should be left to those amiable enthusiasts the “Teetotallers.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Wali rode to the Palace, he and the chief Watchman, seeking the Sultan, and they ceased not riding until they entered the presence and saluted the Sovran, praying for the endurance of his glory and the continuance of his life-tide. He returned their salute and asked concerning the affair of his Judge and they answered him, “O King of the Age, verily we have wandered about Misr and the entirety thereof, without finding any and now there remaineth for our search naught save the quarters occupied by the Kali al-‘Askar. So we design to examine it that if aught be found therein we may be set free, and if not that thou work upon us thine own intent.” Hereupon the Sultan sent to summon the Judge; and, when he made act of presence, commanded him suffer the Wali and the Mukaddam to search his quarters and he replied, “Hearing and obeying.” The whole forty then fared from the Palace and reaching the Judge’s mansion rummaged it until they came upon the ruined stead described by the damsel; so thither they went and seeing a slab newly laid, pulled it up and found beneath it a white girl full-dressed and ornamented.431 The Watchman fared forth and summoned all the ward-folk who considered narrowly the corpse of the murthered damsel, and they all cried with a single voice, “Indeed this be the girl which was drunken with wine and which was carried into the Kazi’s quarters.” And they bore official testimony to such effect what while the Judge, who was standing in that stead looking and listening, said to himself, “How can such case have occurred to us without cause?” And when this business was finished, the Wali turned to the Kazi and said “O Shaykh of Islam,432 we left this damsel in thy charge and to thine honour until morning-tide, deeming that haply she might be the daughter of a grandee house and yet hast thou cut her throat and hidden her within thy premises.” But the Judge could return to him no reply nor attempt any address, for he feared lest the King should hear thereof; so he inclined to the Master of Police and got ready for him an hundred purses and twenty for the Mukaddam that they might keep silence and not report such matter of scandal to the Sultan. Accordingly they accepted that amount of money from him and the Kazi went forth from him and took horse and informed the Sultan that he had found his debtor and had recovered his due; but he spoke not these words save for fear of the Chief of Police and the Head of the Watchmen lest they inform the King that they had found the murthered damsel within his demesne. Then the Mukaddam repaired to the house where the She-thief had bespoken him and standing at the door knocked thereat when those inside asked, “Who mayest thou be?” and he answered, “I am seeking Fatimah!” “Who is Fatimah?” cried they, “we have here nor Fatimah nor Halímah.”433 Thereupon quoth the Mukaddam, “Indeed this Fornicatress, this Adulteress hath wrought upon us and hath escaped us; but, seeing that we also have won free by virtue of the wile she pointed out to us, we will leave her to time and doubtless during the length of days we twain shall forgather again.” On this wise endeth the story (quoth Shahrazad); but I will now relate a very different adventure and ’tis the
It fortuned once upon a time that two men went forth from the same place, one foregoing the other, and they forgathered by the way. Now each had a bag full of flour and a flask435 containing somewhat of water; and when they made acquaintance on the road the first of them said to his companion, “O my brother, what may be thy name?” and said the Second, “I am hight Mohsin, the Beneficent,436 and thou, what art thou called?” Quoth the other, “MúsB the Malignant.”437 So the two fared on in converse and whenever mealtime came round, each would bring out a portion of meal and knead it and make of it a scone,438 and light a fire and bake it thereon: after which they would satisfy their hunger. But Mohsin knew not that had been doomed for him by his companion Musa the Misdoer, so the twain would fare together and feed together. On the following day quoth Musa to Mohsin, “O my brother, I have with me a bag of flour and a flask of water and thou hast the same, and whenever eating-time cometh round each one bringeth out somewhat of his vivers. Now this is not right; ’twere the better way that we first eat that is with thee and when ’tis ended we use my provaunt.” “’Tis well, O my brother,” quoth Mohsin. They agreed upon this condition and whenever moved by appetite they ate of Mohsin’s viaticum until his bag of flour and his flask of water were clean emptied. But when the meal-hour came, Musa arose and made for him a single scone and no more, and baked it and ate it by himself, while Mohsin sat by looking on. This befel time after time for the first day and the second day until Mohsin waxed anhungered and famine wrung his vitals, so quoth he to Musa, “O my brother, give me somewhat of thy food that I may nourish myself therewith, for indeed I am empty exceedingly.” But Musa made reply, “By Allah, I will not give it to thee; no, not a single mouthful.” Rejoined Mohsin, “O my brother, we two made covenant that we should become brethren, and first eat of my provaunt and then of thine; now, however, thou art not pleased to grant me or bite or sup. This is not the act of an honest man.” He answered, “Be brief! an thou be hungry I will give thee half of my scone on condition that I pluck out thine eye.” “How so, O my brother?” rejoined Mohsin, “Wilt thou blind me of one eye for the sake of half a scone? better leave me to die with my sight as it is.” Said Musa, “At thy pleasure!”439 But on the third day Mohsin was like to sink for extreme hunger, and he cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great. Do thou, O Musa, give the half-scone and pluck out one of mine eyes.” Musa did as he was bidden, and thrusting forth his finger gouged440 out the right eye, whereby Mohsin remained purblind, withal was he not filled by the half-scone. Now on the fourth day Mohsin waxed yet more ravenous and famine was right sore upon him, and he cried, “There is no Majesty! by Allah, O Musa, my brother, I am afamished, so pity me and the Lord shall pity thee.” Replied the other, “I will give thee nothing until I shall have gouged out thine other eye.” Quoth Mohsin, “Verily we are Allah’s and unto him we shall return! but, by the Almighty, famishing is bitter; so do thou with me, O Musa, what the Omniscient hath predestined as to the plucking out of my two eyes.” Accordingly the man gave him the half scone and plucked out his other eye; and on such wise made him stone blind. Hereupon Musa left his companion darkly tramping441 about the roads. Now in the neighbourhood of that place was a well full of water;442 so when Mohsin drew near knowing nothing thereof, Musa came up and pushed him thereinto; and while falling into the pit Mohsin said to himself, “O Lord, thou hast doomed me to blinding and at last Thou hast condemned me to drowning."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
434 MS. vi. 57-77, not translated by Scott, who entitles it (vi. 461) “Mhassun, the Liberal, and Mouseh, the treacherous Friend.” It is a variant of “The Envier and the Envied:” vol. i. 123.
435 The Arab. “Jarrah”: vol. viii. 177.
436 i.e. One who does good, a benefactor.
437 In the text “Músà wa Múzi,” the latter word==vexatious, troublesome. [I notice that in the MS. the name is distinctly and I believe purposely spelt with Hamzah above the Wáw and Kasrah beneath the Sín, reading “Muusí.” It is, therefore, a travesty of the name Músà, and the exact counterpart of “Muhsin”, being the active participle of “asáa”, 4th form of “sáa,"==he did evil, he injured, and nearly equivalent with the following “Muuzí.” The two names may perhaps be rendered: Muhsin, the Beneficent, and Muusí, the Malignant, the Malefactor. — ST.]
438 In text “Fatír” for “Fatírah”==a pancake, before described.
439 In text “Bi-khátiri-k”==Thy will be done; the whole dialogue is in pure Fellah speech.
440 Supposed to be American, but, despite Bartlett, really old English from Lancashire, the land which has supplied many of the so-called “American” neologisms. A gouge is a hollow chisel, a scoop; and to gouge is to poke out the eye: this is done by thrusting the fingers into the side-hair thus acting as a base and by prising out the ball with the thumbnail which is purposely grown long.
441 [In the text: “Fa tarak-hu Muusí am’à dáir yaltash fí ‘l-Tarík.” Latash has the meaning of beating, tapping; I therefore think the passage means: “hereupon Muusí left him, blind as he was, tramping and groping his way” (feeling it with his hands or stick). -ST.]
442 In text “Biiru milyánah Moyah.” As a rule the Fellah of Egypt says “Mayyeh,” the Cairene “Mayya,” and the foreigner “Moyah”: the old Syrian is “Mayá,” the mod. “Moy,” and the classical dim. of “Má” is “Muwayy,” also written“Muwayy” and “Muwayhah.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when Musa had thrust Mohsin into the well with intent to drown him, the blinded man cried, “O Lord thou hast doomed me to blinding, and at last Thou hast condemned me to drowning.” Then he struck out with hands and feet till he felt the walls of the well wherein he found two niches; so he set toes into one of them and there stood awaiting the salvation of Allah which was nearhand; and his heart was satisfied and he drank of the water. When the first night fell behold, two of the Jinns came to the pit and sat down in converse each with other, when quoth the first to the second, “Walláhi! O certain person, there is now to be found nor sage nor leach, and all of them are preposterous pretenders and barkers of man’s intent.” Quoth the other, “What may be these words?” and the former resumed, “By Allah, I have possessed the daughter of the Sultan and she is the dearling of my heart whom I love with dearest love; yet can none avail to unsorcel her of me.” Quoth his companion, “And what would expel thee?” And quoth he, “Naught will oust me save a black cock or a sable chicken; and whenas one shall bring such and cut his throat under her feet of a Saturday,443 I shall not have power to approach the city wherein she dwelleth.” “By Allah, O my brother,” said the other, “thou hast spoken sooth: there is in this land nor wizard nor mediciner who knoweth aught and all of them are liars and contradictors who lay claim to science without aught of intelligence; indeed there is not one of them who knoweth of this tree (which adjoineth our well) that whoso shall take the leaves thereof and plaster them upon his eyes, even though he be born blind he will be gifted with sight and wax sound after two or three days by the kind permission of Allah Almighty. Yet are the folk all heedless of such virtue in the tree.” Now Mohsin remained listening to these words and pondering them as he stood supported by the side-wall of the well, and when it was the last third of the night, the Jinns which were conversing at the mouth took leave each of other. And as soon as the day brake and the time waxed bright behold there came a Kafilah which passed by the pit seeking drink for themselves and water for their cattle. Presently they let down a bucket by a cord and when Mohsin felt the rope he caught hold thereof, whereat the caravan people cried, “We take refuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned,” and said one to other, “Verily in this well is a Satan!” Mohsin heard their words and answered them and said, “Yá‘llah444 Ho you, draw me out hence, for verily I am of mankind and not of Jinn-kind and being blind I fell yesterday into this hole.” Cried they, “Catch tight hold of the cord,” and when he did so they drew him out and finding him weak from famine they gave him a somewhat of food and he ate and drank. The caravan-folk on like guise drank from the well and watered their beasts; after which they would have led Mohsin away with them but he said, “O my brethren (whose weal Allah increase445 and whose grace may He reward!), I have a single want wherewith I fain ye would favour me!” Asked they, “And what may that be?” and he answered, “That ye direct me to the tree which adjoineth this well and lead me close thereto and God shall gar your good to grow!” Hereupon one hent him by the hand and after doing as he desired and setting him beside the tree returned to his own folk and the caravan loaded and left the place. Presently Mohsin swarmed up the trunk; and, taking seat upon a branch of its branches, fell to cropping the leaves and patching them upon either eye as he had heard the Jinni prescribe; and hardly had two days gone by when he felt healed of his hurt and opened his eyelids and saw what was around him. Then, after taking somewhat of its foliage, he came down from the tree and went on his wayfare until he entered a city and found him a lodging. When this was done he fell to threading the streets and ways crying aloud the while, “I am the Leach, the Healer!446 I am the Mediciner who can cure the blind!” whereat all the one-eyed and the sightless would summon him with outcries and he would apply to them somewhat of his leaves; and after two or three days (he superintending the while) they would open their eyes and see. On this wise went by a term of time until at last the King of that city heard rumour of a new leach; so he sent to him and summoned him and said to him, “Art thou a clever Medicine-man even as they have informed me concerning thee? I have a daughter ridden447 by a Jinni of the Jann and we desire of thee that thou unsorcel her.” “And if I avail not to free her?” asked Mohsin, and the King answered, “Then will I kill thee even as I have slain a many before thee who have looked upon the face of the Princess.” “And if I prove able to deliver her and fend her from further offence?” “I will give thee what thou askest of coin and hoards.” “No, O King of the Age; this condition I will not accept: if I free her I must take her to wife, for an I fail therein thou wilt slay me; and unless thou agree with me after I shall have saved her that thou e’en wed her to me”—448 “’Tis well, O Shaykh; and for releasing her I give thee a delay of three months for visiting and healing her."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
443 “Sabt”==Sabbath, Saturday: vol. ii. 305, and passim.
444 i.e. “By Allah,” meaning “Be quick!”
445 For this well-nigh the sole equivalent amongst the Moslems of our “thank you,” see Vol. iv. 6. and v. 171.
446 In Arab. “Ana ‘l-Tabíb, al-Mudáwi.” In pop. parlance, the former is the scientific practitioner and the latter represents the man of the people who deals in simples, etc.
447 In text “Rákiba-há,” the technical term for demoniac insiliation or possession: the idea survives in our “succubi” and “incubi.” I look upon these visions often as the effects of pollutio nocturne. A modest woman for instance dreams of being possessed by some man other than her husband; she loves the latter and is faithful to him, and consequently she must explain the phenomena superstitiously and recur to diabolical agency. Of course it is the same with men, only they are at less trouble to excuse themselves.
448 The construction here, MS. p. 67, is very confused. [The speech of Muhsin seems to be elliptical. In Ar. it runs: “Li-anní izá, lam nukhullis-ha (or nukhlis-há, 2nd or 4th form) taktulní, wa aná iz lam tattafik ma’í anní izá khallastu-há tu’tí-há alayya” — which I believe to mean: “for if I do not deliver her, thou wilt kill me; so I (say) unless thou stipulate with me that when I have delivered her thou wilt give her to me in marriage —” supply: “well then I wash my hand of the whole business.” The Shaykh acts on the tit for tat principle in a style worthy of the “honest broker” himself. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King covenanted with the Mediciner that the unsorceling of the Princess should be within three months; after which he set apart an apartment for him with all the furniture and appurtenances thereof and appointed to him rations of meat and drink. So Mohsin abode with him the appointed time and he in the extreme of comfort and enjoyment; but when the three months were ended the Sultan sent for him and summoned him between his hands and said, “O Shaykh, the term is gone by.” Hereupon Shaykh Mohsin went forth and bought him a black cock and when Sabbath449 came round the Sultan presented him to his daughter whom he found in sore and sorrowful state, unknowing how the mishap had occurred to her. Now when he went in and looked upon her in such case, he drew near to her and fell to reciting Koranic versets which avert evil (the Sultan sitting beside them the while); and at the last he slaughtered the cock between her feet. Hereat the Princess recovered her senses and rose up and sat down450 forthright and called for meat and drink which were brought to her; then she ate and drank and besought for herself the guidance of God and said, “Alhamdolillah”— laud to the Lord — and presently she kissed the hand of her sire and of Shaykh Mohsin. Quoth the King, “O my daughter, art thou indeed well?” and quoth she, “At this present I feel naught of pain in my person nor do I sense anything of what hath been with me; and all this is by blessing of yonder Shaykh thou hast brought to me. But say me, O my father, what hast thou made over to him of money as a reward for unsorcelling me?” “O my dauvhter,” replied he, “I have offered him all he shall ask.” But when the Princess recovered from her malady and returned to self, she changed from mode to mode and she became as one cast in the mould of beauty and loveliness and Shaykh Mohsin looking upon her was dazed and amazed in his wits by cause of her exceeding comeliness and seemlihead. Presently the Princess addressed, “O Shaykh Mohsin, what thing dost thou ask of the King’s Majesty?” for indeed her heart was fulfilled of the love to him which had mastered her. Now the Wazir had a son and it was his aim that his heir should marry the King’s daughter, but this his wish was in vain; for when she was certified that her salvation was at the hand of Shaykh Mohsin, she said to her sire, “Do thou, O my father, largesse what is dearest to thee upon my healer.”451 Her design in these words was that the Sultan might bestow her to wife upon her deliverer, and she added, “Indeed our joyance hath been at his hands and he is deserving of munificence full and abundant.” But again the object of her speech was that her parent might espouse her to the Shaykh for the love to Mohsin which had mastered her heart. Quoth her father, “O my daughter we will give him a sumptuous robe of honour and ten purses;” but quoth she, “No, O my sire, this be not gift sufficient for the like of such service.” Now she was the sole prop of her parents who had no child save herself, so the King replied, “O my daughter, I will give him whatso thou shalt say.” Thereupon she asked him, “How many of the folk came in to me and uncovered my shame452 and were slain therefor?” and he answered, “Some fifty.” Then cried she, “Had not Shaykh Mohsin been able to exorcise me what hadst thou done with him?” “Indeed I had slain him.” “Then Alhamdolillah — Glory be to God — for that my deliverance was at his hand: so do thou bestow upon him thy best,” and so she spake for that she was ashamed to say her sire, “Wed me to him.” The King not understanding the hint she had hinted said to her, “All thou wishest I will largesse to him;” and she, “I have spoken to thee but thou hast not comprehended my words! All who have looked upon my shame and proved unable to deliver me thou wast wont to slay and this man hath been my salvation after seeing me unveiled: how then wilt thou gift him with money and means or condition with him when thou art unable to carry out thy compact?” Hereupon the King became ware of what was in his daughter’s mind and forthwith sending to summon the Kazi and witnesses he bade bind the marriage-bond between her and Shaykh Mohsin and in due time let them lead him to her in procession and suffer him go in unto her. So he cohabited with the Princess a while of time, after which the life-term of the Sultan drew near, and he fell sick of a sickness whereof he died. And when they had committed his remains to earth the Lords of the land and the Grandees of command forgathered and agreed in council that none should overrule them save the Shaykh Mohsin. So they invested him with the signet-ring of Sovranty and seated him upon the throne of Kingship and he became Sovereign and Sultan. Moreover Allah Almighty enlightened his heart in governance with justice and equity; and all the subjects with the Notables of the realm and the Rulers of high rank blessed him and prayed for him. Now one day of the days Sultan Mohsin felt desirous of solacing himself in the gardens; so he rode forth, he and his suite, when he suddenly sighted his whilome comrade, the same who had plucked out one eye for half a scone and had gouged out the other eye for the other half. He bade them bring the man to the presence and when they set him between his hands he asked him saying, “O Shaykh, what may be thy name?” and he answered, “I am hight Shaykh Mohammed.” So he carried him with his suite to the gardens where they abode until day ended, after which the Sultan rode back and entering his palace, bade bring Shaykh Mohammed whom he despatched to the House of Hospitality.453 On the third day he bade summon his guest after supper-tide and taking him by the hand led him into a cabinet and said, “O Shaykh Mohammed, do thou tell us a tale."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
449 In text “Yaum Sabt” again.
450 As has been said (vol. ii. 112) this is a sign of agitation. The tale has extended to remote Guernsey. A sorcier named Hilier Mouton discovers by his art that the King’s daughter who had long and beautiful tresses was dying because she had swallowed a hair which had twined round her praecordia. The cure was to cut a small square of bacon from just over the heart, and tie it to a silken thread which the Princess must swallow, when the hair would stick to it and come away with a jerk. See (p. 29) “Folk-lore of Guernsey and Sark,” by Louise Lane-Clarke, printed by E. Le Lievre, Guernsey, 1880; and I have to thank for it a kind correspondent, Mr. A. Buchanan Brown, of La Coûture, p. 53, who informs us why the Guernsey lily is scentless, emblem of the maiden who sent it from fairy-land.
451 The text says only, “O my father, gift Shaykh Mohsin.”
452 Her especial “shame” would be her head and face: vol. vi. 30, 118.
453 In northern Africa the “Dár al-Ziyáfah” was a kind of caravanserai in which travellers were lodged at government expense. Ibn Khaldún (Fr. Transl. i. 407).
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, o my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the King entered the closet leading Mohammed by the hand he said to him, “Do thou, O Shaykh, tell us a tale.” “By Allah, O our lord,” quoth the other, “I know naught of stories.” Whereupon the Sultan rejoined, “If so it be, I will relate to thee, O Shaykh Mohammed, an adventure of my own and ’tis as follows:— Once upon a time a man went forth his town and he made companionship with another upon the way, and each one of them bore with him a bag of meal and a flask of water.” On this wise the Sultan continued recounting to him the real history of Mohsin and Musa the Malignant, till at the end of the tale he said, “And Musa, after gouging out both eyes of Mohsin for the sake of a single scone, thrust him into a well designing to drown him therein, but Allah Almighty preserved his life and brought him forth the pit and our Lord favoured him and restored to him his two eyes and empowered him over the kingdom and thus did he become Sovran and Sultan. Now the prosperity of that Shaykh Mohsin was from the well whereinto Musa had thrust him.” Presently he added, “An this tale be soothfast, then am I Mohsin and thou art Musa the Malignant. I am able at this moment to slay thee but I will spare thee and moreover counsel thee as follows:— Do thou go to the well and haply Almighty Allah shall thereby grant to thee some good, for that the root of my fair fortune was from that same pit.” Now when the first third of the night had sped, Musa arose and repaired to the pit and descended therein when behold, the same two Jinnis had forgathered beside the wellmouth at that same hour and were seated together conversing each with other. Quoth the first, “What is thy case this day?” and quoth the second, “By Allah, O my brother, my condition is ill-conditioned ever since a certain night when we met in this place and talked together. And so it hath continued until the present time, for that I have been unable to approach the city wherein dwelleth the Sultan’s daughter: and someone that was in the well must have overheard us whilst we knew naught of him and he must have acted according to our words and slaughtered the black cock; after which I have been unable to near her abode.” Quoth the other, “By Allah, O my brother, thou hast spoken sooth; but our ill-constraint is from this well.” Hereupon the Jinni put forth his hand about the pit454 and finding Musa the Misdoer snatched him up and seizing him between his palms tore his body into four pieces and cast away the quarters in some desert stead. And this (said Shahrazad) is the award of whoso betrayeth his fellow man. And they also relate the adventure of
454 In most of these tales the well is filled in over the intruding “villain” of the piece. Ibn Khaldun (ii. 575) relates a “veritable history” of angels choking up a well; and in Mr. Doughty (ii. 190) a Pasha-governor of Jiddah does the same to a Jinni-possessed pit.
It is told among the many things which happened in Cairo the God-guarded that therein dwelt a man who was an Emir and who had a son Mohammed Shalabi456 hight, a youth in his day unique for beauty and loveliness, nor in his time was there his peer for comeliness and seemlihead amongst women or amongst men. Now when he had attained the age of ten and was approaching puberty, his sire betrothed him and wedded him to a fair wife who loved him with fondest love even after marriage. There was also in Misr a Kazi al-‘Askar, a Judge of the Army, who had a daughter singular for form and favour and bloom and brilliancy, and stature and symmetric grace and she was known as Sitt al-Husn — the Lady of Loveliness. Now one chance day of the days she went forth together with her mother and the handmaidens to the Baths and when they reached the half way behold, they were confronted by the young Shalabi whose glance fell upon the girl and her glance lit upon the youth, wherefrom love and affection for him settled in her heart and it was with him after the same fashion. Presently she began to send him messages and letters and he to do on like guise, yet could neither win possession of other nor indeed could the twain meet privately in one place. This endured for the space of three years therefore were their hearts melted in fire of mutual love-longing, until on a certain day when desire in the girl surged high for her lover and likewise did his yearning for his beloved; withal neither availed to win union. Hereupon befel them sore travail and trouble and the young lady sent an old woman to her dearling praying him to meet her in such a site; and when the go-between had informed him thereof, he arose to obey her without stay or delay, unknowing what was hidden from him in the Secret Purpose. He fared till he came to the place in question when it was the hour of sunset and here the Shalabi forgathered with the Kazi’s daughter who had kept tryst with him accompanied by her handmaidens; and anon the twain, he and she, repaired to a retired spot. Now by the decree of the Decreer which is written upon the foreheads and the brows of mankind, one of the folk belonging to the Chief of Police was loitering about the place when the couple entered that secret stead; and as soon as they had settled themselves comfortably, each began complaining to other of the pangs of separation. After this the handmaidens brought to them food, meat and wine, and they ate and drank and toyed and were cheered and made merry from set of sun till the noon o’ night and they conversed together as boon companions until either was fulfilled of other and the pains of parting had vanished from their hearts. Such was the case with the lover and the beloved; but as regards the Wali’s man who was looking upon them and listening, he well knew the place wherein the couple had retired and having noted it and certified himself thereof, he went to the Chief of Police and made his report saying, “In such a site of such a ward are a man and a maid whereupon show the signs of affluence, and doubtless an thou seize them thou shalt easily get from each and either some fifteen purses.” The Wali hearing these words forthwith led out his party and marched with them to the spot appointed; and he ceased not wending for half the night until they all came to the trysting place. Then he pushed forward axe457 in hand and smote the door and broke it down; and forthright he rushed into the room without being expected by the youth or the young lady whom he found sitting together in the very height of enjoyment. But when they saw him suddenly appear they were consterned and confounded and confused as to their affair, so he arrested them and led them off and carried them to his house, where he placed them in prison.458 Forthwith the bruit concerning the youth went abroad and reached his family; to wit, how Mohammed Shalabi had been seized by the Chief of Police, together with the girl his beloved. Now after imprisoning them the Wali said, “This pair shall remain with me for a day or two days and until I catch them in their robbery;”459 but quoth one of the party, “Indeed thou knowest not and thou hast not learnt that this damsel is the daughter of the Kazi of the Army who throughout the past year wrought for the slaying of thee by the Sultan.” And hardly had the Wali heard these words than his heart was filled with joy and he exclaimed, “By Allah, needs must I have his wench disgraced and proclaimed by bell460 about the thoroughfares of Cairo and him dishonoured in the presence of the Sultan and degraded from his degree.” Now when it was morning-tide a rumour flew about town that the Judge’s daughter had been seized by the Wali and the watch together with the young Shalabi in a certain place and presently the report reached her father who cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! O Saving God, save me! Oh, vile disgrace and foul dishonour before Sultan and subjects who shall say the Kazi’s daughter hath been seduced and abused. However may the Veiler enveil me!” On his part the Wali went up to the Palace and sought the Sovran to acquaint him therewith; but, finding that he had business, he sat him down to await its ending when he purposed informing him concerning the daughter of his enemy the Chief Kazi. On such wise it befel him; but as regards the wife of the youth who was lover to the girl, as soon as the rumour reached her that the Shalabi had been arrested by the Wali and the watch, she arose to her feet without stay and delay and doffing whatso of woman’s dress was upon her — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
455 This tale is of a kind not unfrequent amongst Moslems, exalting the character of the wife, whilst the mistress is a mere shadow.
456 Here written “Jalabí” (whence Scott’s “Julbee,” p. 461) and afterwards (p. 77, etc.) “Shalabí”: it has already been noticed in vol. i. 22 and elsewhere.
457 In text “Baltah” for Turk. “Báltah”==an axe, a hatchet. Hence “Baltah-ji” a pioneer, one of the old divisions of the Osmanli troops which survives as a family name amongst the Levantines and semi-European Perotes of Constantinople.
458 Here the public gaol is in the Head Policeman’s house. So in modern times it is part of the Wali or Governor’s palace and is included in the Maroccan “Kasbah” or fortalice.
459 In text “Naakhaz bi-lissati-him;” “Luss” is after a fashion {Greek letters} but the Greek word included piracy which was honourable, whenas the Arab. term is mostly applied to larcenists and similar blackguards. [I would read the word in the text “Balsata-hum,” until I have received their “ransom."— ST.]
460 In the text “Tajrís” which I have rendered by a circumlocution. [For the exact meaning of “Tajrís,” see Dozy, Suppl.s.v. “jarras,” where an interesting passage from “Mas’údí” is quoted. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that as soon as the Shalabi’s wife was informed touching her husband how the Wali had seized him in company with the Kazi’s daughter, she arose forthright and doffing whatso of woman’s dress was upon her and donning man’s disguise provided herself with somewhat of provaunt461 and went forth intending for the gaol in the Wali’s house. She asked for the road as she went and a man of the people directed her to the office until she reached the place carrying her victuals; then she enquired for the gaoler. So they made him meet her and quoth she, “Open to me the prison wherein they have gaoled the Shalabi and the maiden,” and she promised him by signs a gold piece; hereupon he admitted her and she passed into the room where lay her spouse and the girl and set meat before him. But he knew her not and cried, “Indeed I will nor eat nor drink, and do thou fare from me and leave me in this my plight.” Quoth she, “Nay, thou must eat and gladness shall befal thee.” Accordingly he came forward and ate a small matter and she after sitting with him for an hour or so, arose and doffed her man’s dress. Then she stripped the Kazi’s daughter of all the clothes she was wearing and garbed her in the masculine garb wherewith she had entered to the twain. The young lady did as she was bidden and showed likest to the Shalabi’s wife who lastly served her with what remained of the meat and said to her, “Up with thee and hie thee home.” So the Kazi’s daughter fared forth under the disguise of a dainty youth such an one as he who anon had entered the gaol; and as soon as she had wended her way the wife took seat beside her husband. When he saw her habited in the habit of the Kazi’s daughter he recognised her and knew her for his spouse; so he asked of her, “What hath brought thee hither?” and she answered, “I have come with this contrivance for the purpose of saving thee and of saving the honour of the girl thou lovest.” But as soon as the Kazi’s daughter had departed in her disguise the gaoler was deaf to entreaty and closed the prison doors upon the pair and the Shalabi and his spouse sat down together and his heart was satisfied and his secret was safe-directed,462 and fell from him all the sorrow which had settled upon his heart. Such was the case with these two; but as regards the Chief of Police, when he went up to the Sultan and saw that he was busied he took patience until the work was ended, after which he came forward and kissed ground before him and salam’d to him and blessed him. The King returned his salute and then said, “What is to do?” and said he, “O King of the Age. I found during the past night the Lady Sitt al-Husn, daughter to the Kazi al-‘Askar, companying with her lover a certain Mohammed Shalabi son of the Emir Such-and-such; so I seized the couple and confined them by me and now I myself come to report the case in thy presence.” When the Sultan heard these words, he was wroth with exceeding wrath and his eyes flashed red and his outer jugulars463 swelled and he foamed at the mouth and roaring cried, “How can it be that the daughter of the Kazi al-Islam companieth with a lover and alloweth herself to be debauched? By Allah, needs must I slay her and slay her father and slay the youth her lover.” Thus befel it with the Sultan and the Wali; but as regards the matter of the girl Sitt al-Husn, when she went forth the prison in the dress of a Shalabi, a dainty youth, she ceased not wending till she reached her paternal home. Here she repaired to a place which was private and having doffed her man’s dress garbed her in maidenly garments, then retiring secretly to her own room lay her down and her heart was heartened and trouble and turmoil and travail of mind fell from her. Now at that time her mother was lamenting like a funeral mourner and buffeting her face and her breast and kept crying out, “Oh the shame of us! Oh the dishonour of us! When they shall have informed the Sultan of this, he shall surely slay her sire.” And the Kazi waxed distraught and full of thought and he also said in his mind, “How shall I remain Kazi al-Islam when the folk of Cairo say, ‘Verily the daughter of our Lord High Chancellor hath been debauched?’” With these words he kept visiting his wife’s apartment and sitting with her for awhile, then faring forth and coming in from place to place464 and he wandered about like one bewildered of wits. When behold, a handmaid of the handmaidens entered the room wherein lay the Kazi’s daughter and finding her strown upon her bed looked upon her and recognised her. So she left her and running in her haste hied her to the mistress and cried, “O my lady, indeed Sitt al-Husn of whom you are talking is lying down in such a room of the Harem.” Thereupon the mother arose and went and came upon her daughter, so she rejoiced in her and returning to the Kazi in his apartment acquainted him therewith. He also repaired to his daughter’s bower and finding her therein quoth he, “Where hast thou been?” Quoth she, “O my father, my head began to ache after sunset-time, so I lay me down in this place.” Hereupon without stay or delay the Kazi took horse, he and his Officials, and repaired to the Sultan — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
461 In Moslem lands prisoners are still expected to feed themselves, as was the case in England a century ago and is still to be seen not only in Al-Islam, Egypt and Syria, but even in Madeira and at Goa.
462 In text “Hudá Sirru-hu,” i.e. his secret sin was guided (by Allah) to the safety of concealment. [A simpler explanation of this passage would perhaps be: “wa hadá Sirru-hu,"== and his mind was at rest. — ST.]
463 Arab. “Audáj” (plur. of “Wadaj”) a word which applies indiscriminately to the carotid arteries and jugular veins. The latter, especially the external pair, carry blood from the face and are subject abnormally to the will: the late lamented Mr. Charley Peace, who murdered and “burgled” once too often, could darken his complexion and even change it by arresting jugular circulation. The much-read Mr. F. Marion Crawford (Saracinesca, chapt. xii.) makes his hero pass a foil through his adversary’s throat, “without touching the jugular artery (which does not exist)or the spine.” But what about larynx and pharynx? It is to be regretted that realistic writers do not cultivate a little more personal experience. No Englishman says “in guard” for “on guard.” “Colpo del Tancredi” is not==“Tancred’s lunge” but “the thrust of the (master) Tancredi:” it is quite permissible and to say that it loses half its dangers against a left-handed man is to state what cannot be the fact as long as the heart is more easily reached from the left than from the right flank.
464 Lit. “Then faring forth and sitting in his own place.” I have modified the too succinct text which simply means that he was anxious and agitated.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Kazi of the Army repaired to the Sultan, he and the whole of his officials, and he ceased not wending until he entered the presence, where he salam’d and said, “O King of the Age, is it lawful and allowed of Allah Almighty that thy Wali charge us with calumnious charge and false?” As the Chief of Police was standing hard by, the Sultan asked him, “How can the Wali have misspoken thee and thy daughter when she is still imprisoned by him and in his house?” whereto the Chief of Police added, “’Tis true! his daughter is surely with us in durance vile, she along with her lover, for indeed I found the pair in such a place.” Said the Kazi, “O King of the Age, I will abide here beside thee and do thou let the Wali go down and bring before thee that which is with him in gaol, and the case shall be made manifest, because hearing with the ear is not like eyeing with the eye.” The Sultan replied, “This rede is right,” whereupon the Chief of Police returned to his house and ordered the gaoler to open the gaol and bring thereout the maiden Sitt al-Husn and her lover the youth Mohammed Shalabi. The man did his bidding and leading forth of prison the couple committed them to the Chief of Police who took them and fared with them to the Sovran, rejoicing the while with all joy. The citizens of Cairo heard of all this, so they flocked in crowds to solace them with the spectacle; and when the Wali reached the presence, the maiden and the young man being with him, he set them before the Sultan. Presently the King asked the youth saying, “Who mayest thou be, O young man, and who is thy father?” and answered he, “I am son of such an Emir;” when the King who believed that she was the daughter of the Chief Kazi continued, “And this maiden that is with thee, who may she be and whose daughter?” The youth replied, “This is my wife, O King of the Age,” and the King rejoined, “How can she be thy wife?” So the youth retorted, “Indeed she is; and Such-an-one and So-and-so and Such-another together with a host of thy favoured courtiers wot right well that she is my spouse and that she is the daughter of So-and-so.” Hereupon they accosted her and bespoke her and she bespake them, so they recognised her and were certified that she was lawful wife to the Shalabi. Then asked the King, “How is it that the Wali arrested thee and her?” and the youth answered, “O King of the Age, I went out with this my wife intending to enjoy ourselves and, finding a place that was cheerful and pleasant we tarried there until midnight when the Wali broke in upon us and seized us, scandalously declaring that I was companying with the Kazi’s daughter. Then he carried us off and gaoled us in his house and now (Alham-dolillah!) here we are between thy hands. So do thou whatso thou will and command according to Holy Law and whoever shall deserve chastisement deal it to him, for thou art the lord of our necks and the master of our good.” Now when the youth spake these words the King bade put to death the Chief of Police and harry his house and enslave his women and he commanded the Crier before the execution to cry about the thoroughfares of Cairo in front of the Wali that he was being led to die and declare, “This is the award of him who dishonoureth the noble and chargeth the folk with lying charges and false!” After that they slew the Chief of Police and thus carried out the King’s commandment. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that after the Wali had been put to death the Sultan bestowed his good upon Mohammed Shalabi and having gifted him with munificent gifts sent him home with his spouse in all honour. And when the youth returned to his quarters he fell to kissing his wife’s hands and feet, for that he had been saved at her hands by the stratagem she had wrought for him and she had preserved the honour of the Kazi’s daughter and had enabled her father to prevail over his enemy the Wali.465 “And now I will relate to thee” (quoth Shahrazad) “another tale touching the wiles of women;” and thereupon she fell to recounting the story of
465 After this in the text we have only, “End of the Adventure of the Kazi’s Daughter. It is related among the many wiles of women that there was a Fellah-man, etc.” I have supplied the missing link.
There was of olden time in the land of Egypt a Fellah, or tiller of the ground, who had a fair woman to wife and she had another man to friend. The husband used to sow every year some fifty faddán467 of seeding-wheat wherein there was not one barley-grain, and grind it in the mill and pass this meal to his spouse who would sift it and bolt it. Then would she take the softest and best of the flour to make thereof either scones or cakes468 or something more toothsome which she would give to her friend and feed him therewith, whereas the refuse of the flour469 she would make into loaves for her husband so this bread would be ruddy-brown of hue.470 Now every day about dawn-time the Fellah was wont fare to his field either to ear or to delve and tarry there working till noon at which time the wife would send him the bread of bran and refuse flour, whilst to those beside him who wrought as he did would be brought from their homes white bread and clean. So they said, “Ho certain person! thy wheat is from fine sowing-seed, nor is there in it a barley-corn, how then be your bread like unto barley?” Quoth he, “I know not.” He remained in such case for a while of time whilst his wife fed her playmate with all the good food and served to her husband the vilest of diet, until one chance day of the days the Fellah took his plough and went off at early dawn to work and wrought till midday when his wife sent him his dinner of dirty bread. Hereupon he and his neighhours, who were earing in the same field, took seat and each one set before him white bread and seeing the Fellah’s scones brown as barley-meal they marvelled thereat. They had with them a scald-head boy who was sitting with them at the noon-meal, so they said to the peasant, “Take thee to servant this youngster and he shall manifest thee the case wherein thou art from the doings of thy dame.” He obeyed their bidding — And Shahrazad was suprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
466 On the margin of the W. M. MS. (vi. 92) J. Scott has written: “This story bears a faint resemblance to one in the Bahardanush.” He alludes to the tale I have already quoted. I would draw attention to “The Fellah and his Wicked Wife,” as it is a characteristic Fellah-story showing what takes place too often in the villages of Modern Egypt which the superficial traveller looks upon as the homes of peace and quiet. The text is somewhat difficult for technicalities and two of the pages are written with a badly nibbed reed-pen which draws the lines double.
467 The “Faddán” (here miswritten “Faddád”) = a plough, a yoke of oxen, a “carucate,” which two oxen can work in a single season. It is also the common land-measure of Egypt and Syria reduced from acre 1.1 to less than one acre. It is divided into twenty-four Kiráts (carats) and consists or consisted of 333 Kasabah (rods), each of these being 22-24 Kabzahs (fists with the thumb erect about = 6 1/2 inches). In old Algiers the Faddán was called “Zuijah” (= a pair, i.e. of oxen) according to Ibn Khaldun i. 404.
468 In text “Masbúbah.”
469 Arab. “Dashísh,” which the Dicts. make=wheat-broth to be sipped. [“Dashísh” is a popular corruption of the classical “Jashísh” = coarsely ground wheat (sometimes beans), also called “Sawík,” and “Dashíshah” is the broth made of it.-ST.]
470 In text “Ahmar” = red, ruddy-brown, dark brown.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Fellah obeyed their bidding and took with him the scald-head youngster for house-service and on the second day the lad fell to grinding at the mill and carried the meal to his mistress and sat beside her and anon she rose and sifted and bolted the flour; still he stayed by her stealthily watching her while she kneaded it and balled it and breaded it. After this he carried off the early meal for his master and faring to the field set it before him and when the Fellah looked upon it he cried, “O Boy, by Allah this bread is white and ’tis clean unlike the foregone.” Quoth he, “O my master, I have ground it with my own hands and I sat beside my mistress the while she got it ready, kneading it and baking it, wherefor she availed not to do aught else with it.” Now when the servant-lad had left the hut her lover came in asking, “Hast thou made bread for me?” and she answered, “Indeed the boy with the scald-head ceased not sitting beside me, nor was I able to bake aught for thee.” But when the lad had gone forth to the field with his master’s dinner he set it before him and returned in hot haste and hurry to the house, where he found the friend of his mistress conversing with her; so he hid himself behind the door and fell to overhearing them and to noting whatso they said. Amongst other things quoth she, “Take this quartern of good wheat and clean grain and grind it in this mill and I will make thee a platter of bread from handrubbed flour471 which I will send to thee on the morrow.” Asked he, “How shalt thou know the field?” and she answered, “Carry with thee a basket of bran and drop the contents as thou walkest along the highway; then leave it hard by the land belonging to thee and I will follow the traces and find thee a-field; and so do thou remain at rest.” All this and the scald-head boy was standing behind the door hearkening to their words until he had understood them all. On the next day the lad took a basket of bran which he scattered on the way to his master’s land and then sat with him whilst the wife, after baking the platter full of scones, carried it upon her head and fared forth intending for her lover in the field. She marked the traces of the bran which the scald-head had dropped and she ceased not following them until she came to her husband’s field. Hereupon the lad arose and taking the platter from her said, “By Allah, O my master, verily my mistress loveth thee and favoureth thee, for that she hath brought a bannock made from handrubbed grain;” and so saying he set it before him. Presently she looked out of the corner of her eye and saw her lover ploughing at a little distance from them; so she said to her husband, “Allah upon thee, O certain person, call aloud to so-and-so our neighbour that he may come and eat the noon meal with thee.” The man said, “’Tis well;” and presently added, “O Boy, go forth and shout to such-an-one.” Now the lad had brought with him a parcel of green dates, so he arose and scattered them at intervals upon the highway; and when he came to his mistress’s lover he cried aloud, “Do thou come dine with my master.” But the man refused so to do wherefore the scald-head returned and said, “He will not;” and hereupon the wife bade her husband go himself and fetch him. The Fellah trudged along the highway and finding thereon the scattered dates bowed himself downwards to gather them when the lover said to himself, “This one is picking up stones wherewith to beat me;’”472 and as he saw the man often stoop he fled and left the place, and the more the other cried to him, “Come hither, O certain person,” the faster sped he in his running. — And Shahrazad was suprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
471 In text “Kas’at (=a wooden platter, bowl) afrúkah.” [The “Mafrúkah,” an improvement upon the Fatírah, is a favourite dish with the Badawí, of which Dozy quotes lengthy descriptions from Vansleb and Thévenot. The latter is particularly graphical, and after enumerating all the ingredients says finally: “ils en font une grosse pâte dont ils prennent de gros morceaux. — ST.]
472 The Fellah will use in fighting anything in preference to his fists and a stone tied up in a kerchief or a rag makes no mean weapon for head-breaking.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting, and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the more that man cried to the lover “Come,” the faster did he run away; so the Fellah returned and said, “He misliketh to come and he hath fled.” Hereupon he took seat together with the scald-head and the neighbours to dine off the scones of hand-rubbed grain, and the wife served to them whatso she had made for her lover’s eating and she would not touch aught thereof but left it for her spouse and for his servant and for the neighbours. On the following day the Fellah went forth betimes to plough whilst the boy, delaying purposely at home, hid himself behind the door when behold, the lover entered to her, and she said, “ ’Tis my desire that we forge a story whereby to slay my husband and Master Scald-head the servant.” Quoth he, “How wilt thou slay them?” and quoth she, “I will buy for them poison and make it up in cooked food, so they may devour it together and perish together; after which we will abide, I and thou, making merry, nor shall the dead disturb us any more.” He rejoined, “Do what thou willest,” and all this whilst the boy stood listening to them behind the door. But as soon as the lover went forth the house, the lad arose and retired; then, donning Jews’ garb he shouldered a pair of saddle-bags and went about crying, “Ho! Aloes good for use. Ho! Pepper473 good for use. Ho! Kohl good for use. Ho! Tutty good for use!” Now when the woman saw him she came forth the house and hailed him, “Ho thou the Jew!” and said he to her, “Yes, O my lady.” Then said she, “Hast thou with thee aught of poison?” and said he, “How, O my lady? Have I not with me poison of the hour?474 and whoever shall eat thereof in a mess of sweet milk475 and rice and clarified butter shall die within that time.” “Do thou take this dinar,” continued she, “and give me somewhat of it;” but he rejoined, “I do not trade for moneys, and I will sell it only for ornaments of precious metal.” Hereupon she pulled off one of her anklets and handed it to him and he, who had provided himself with half a loaf of Egyptian sugar,476 gave her the moiety thereof, saying, “Use it with sweet milk and rice and clarified butter.” She took it in high glee, and arising milked the she-buffalo, after which she boiled the loaf-sugar in the milk and then threw it into a sufficiency of the rice and the clarified butter, fancying the while that she was cooking a mortal meal,477 and lastly she ladled out the mess into a large platter. Now when it was sunset-time her husband returned from the field and was met about half-way by the boy who told him all that he had overheard and how he had sold her the sugar for one of her anklets, saying, “This be poison.” Then he charged him that, as soon as both of them should have swallowed the mess of milk and rice and clarified butter, they fall down and feign dead. So master and servant agreed upon this plan. And when the Fellah entered the hut she served to them the platter which contained their supper, and they ate the whole thereof, she sitting by intent upon their action and expecting their death. But they served her with a sleight; for suddenly the Fellah changed countenance and made as though he waxed ill and faint, and fell upon the ground like one in the last agony, and shortly after the boy rolled upon the floor on similar wise. Whenas she considered them she exclaimed, “May Allah have no mercy upon you; the wretches are dead!” Hereupon she went out and called aloud to her lover, and as he was coming cried, “Hie thee hither and enjoy the sight of these dead ones;” so he hastened up to them, and seeing them stretched upon the door said, “They’re dead.” Presently quoth she, “We two, I and thou, will now make merry;” and so saying she withdrew with him into another hut, intending at once to sleep together. Hereupon the husband arose and went in to them and smote the lover with a quarter-staff upon the neck and broke in his back bone,478 after which he turned to the wicked woman his wife and struck her and split open her head, and left the twain stone dead. And as soon as it was midnight he wrapped them in a single sheet and carried them forth outside the village, and after choosing a place,479 dug a hole and thrust them therein. And ever after that same Fellah had rest from his wife, and he bound himself by a strong oath not to interwed with womankind-never no more.480 And now (quoth Shahrazad) I will recount to you another tale touching the wiles of women; and thereupon she fell to relating the adventure of
473 The cries of an itinerant pedlar hawking about woman’s wares. See Lane (M. E.) chapt. xiv. “Flfl’a” (a scribal error?) may be “Filfil”=pepper or palm-fibre. “Tutty,” in low- Lat. “Tutia,” probably from the Pers. “Tutiyah,” is protoxide of zinc, found native in Iranian lands, and much used as an eye-wash.
474 In text “Samm Sá‘ah.”
475 “Laban halíb,” a trivial form=“sweet milk;” “Laban” being the popular word for milk artificially soured. See vols. vi. 201; vii. 360.
476 In text “Nisf ra’as Sukkar Misri.” “Sukkar” (from Pers. “Shakkar,” whence the Lat. Saccharum) is the generic term, and Egypt preserved the fashion of making loaf-sugar (Raas Sukkar) from ancient times. “Misri” here=local name, but in India it is applied exclusively to sugar-candy, which with Gúr (Molasses) was the only form used throughout the country some 40 years ago. Strict Moslems avoid Europe-made white sugar because they are told that it is refined with bullock’s blood, and is therefore unlawful to Jews and the True Believers.
477 Lit. “that the sugar was poison.”
478 In text “Kata’a Judúr-há” (for “hu”). [I refer the pronoun in “Judúr-há” to “Rakabah,” taking the “roots of the neck” to mean the spine.-ST.]
479 In text “Fahata” for “Fahasa” (?) or perhaps a clerical error for “Fataha”=he opened (the ground). [“Fahata,” probably a vulgarisation of “fahatha” (fahasa)=to investigate, is given by Bocthor with the meaning of digging, excavating. Nevertheless I almost incline to the reading “fataha,” which, however, I would pronounce with Tashdíd over the second radical, and translate: “he recited a ‘Fátihah’ for them,” the usual prayer over the dead before interment. The dative “la-hum,” generally employed with verbs of prayer, seems to favour this interpretation. It is true I never met with the word in this meaning, but it would be quite in keeping with the spirit of the language, and in close analogy with such expressions as “kabbara,” he said “Allabu akbar,” “Hallala,” he pronounced the formula of unity, and a host of others. Here it would, in my opinion, wind up the tale with a neat touch of peasant’s single-mindedness and loyal adherence to the injunctions of religion even under provoking circumstances. — ST.]
480 In the MS. we have only “Ending. And it is also told,” etc. I again supply the connection.
There was a man in Cairo and he had a wife who ever boasted of her gentle blood and her obedience and her docility and her fear of the Lord. Now she happened to have in the house a pair of fatted ganders482 and she also had a lover whom she kept in the background. Presently the man came to visit her and seeing beside her the plump birds felt his appetite sharpened by them, so he said to her, “O Such-an-one, needs must thou let cook these two geese with the best of stuffing so that we may make merry over them, for that my mind is bent upon eating goose flesh.” Quoth she, “’Tis right easy; and by thy life, O So-and-so, I will slaughter them and stuff them and thou shalt take them and carry them home with thee and eat them, nor shall this pimp my husband taste of them or even smell them.” “How wilt thou do?” asked he, and she answered, “I will serve him a sleight shall enter into his brains and then give them to thee, for none is dear to me as thyself, O thou light of mine eyes; whereas this pander my mate shall not touch a bittock thereof.” Upon this agreement the lover went from her and when her husband returned at sunset-tide she said to him, “Ho Man, how canst thou ever call thyself a man when thou never invitest anybody to thy house and no day of the days thou sayest me, ‘I have a guest coming to us,’ even as another would do; and folk surely will talk of thee and declare thou art a miser and unknowing the ways of generosity.” “O Woman,” said he, “this were for me an easy business and to-morrow morning (Inshallah!) I will buy for thee flesh and rice and thou shalt let cook for us or dinner or supper, whereto I will invite one of my intimates.” Quoth she to him, “Nay, O Man; rather do thou buy for me a pound of mince-meat; then slaughter the two geese and I will stuff them and fry them, for that nothing is more savoury to set before guests.” Said he, “Upon my head and mine eye be it!” and as soon as it was dawn he slaughtered the geese and went forth and bought a Rotolo of meat which he minced and took all was required of rice and hot spices and what not else. These he carried home to his wife and said to her, “Do thou finish off thy cooking before midday when I will bring my guests,” and presently he fared forth from her. Then she arose and cleaned out the geese and stuffed them with minced meat and a portion of rice and almonds and raisins;483 and fried them until they were well cooked; after which she sent for her lover and as soon as he came she and he made merry together, and she gave him the geese which he took up and left her. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
481 Scott does not translate this tale, but he has written on the margin (MS. vi. 101), “A story which bears a strong resemblance to that I have read (when a boy) of the Parson’s maid giving the roasted goose to her Lover and frightening away the guests, lest he should geld them.”
482 In text “Zakarayn Wizz (ganders) simán”; but afterwards “Wizzatayn”=geese.
483 These dried fruits to which pistachios are often added, form the favourite “filling” of lamb and other meats prepared in “puláo” (pilaff).
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night.” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the woman gave to her lover the geese which she had fried and he took the twain and fared away with them. Now when it was noon suddenly her husband came home accompanied by a friend and knocked at the door; so she arose and opened to him and admitted them. Then she asked, “And hast thou brought only one man?484 hie thee forth and fetch at least two or better still three.” “’Tis well,” said he and went off to do her bidding. Then the woman accosted the guest who came first and cried, “Oh the pity of it! By Allah thou art lost and the Lá Haul of Allah485 is upon thee and doubtless thou hast no children.” Now when the man heard these words he exclaimed, “Why, O Woman?” for indeed fear and affright had sunk deep into his heart. She rejoined, “Verily my husband hath not brought thee hither save with the intention of cutting off thy precious stones the honours of thy yard486 and of gelding thee to a Castrato; and heigho and alas for thee whether thou die or whether thou live, and Oh the pity of it for thee!” Now when the man heard this speech, he arose in haste and hurry and rushed out by the door, when behold, the husband came bringing with him two of his familiars. So the wife met him at the entrance and said to him, “O Man, O miserablest of men, O thou disappointed, O thou dissatisfied,487 thou hast brought to me a fellow which was a thief, a ne’er-do-well like unto thyself.” “How so?” asked he, and she answered, “The man stole the two geese and stole away.” Thereupon the husband went out and catching sight of the guest running off shouted to him, “Come back! Come back! even although thou bring only one with thee and take the other.” Cried the man in reply, “An thou catch me do thou take thee the two. But the house-master meant the two geese whilst the man who was running away thought only of himself, saying in his mind, “This one speaketh of my ballocks, meaning that he will take only one of my stones488 and leave me the other.” So he ceased not running and the other followed after him, but being unable to catch him he returned to his guests and served them with somewhat of bread and so forth, whilst the woman kept blaming him and nagging about the matter of the geese which she said had been carried off, but which had been given by her to her lover. The husband enjoined her to silence; however she would not hold her peace489 and on this wise he was balked of the meal to feed his wife’s friend. And now (quoth Shahrazad) I will relate to you somewhat of the wiles of an honest woman, and thereupon she fell to recounting the adventure of
484 “Anta jáib(un) bas rájul (an) wáhid (an)"— veritable and characteristic peasant’s jargon.
485 i.e., it is a time when men should cry for thy case. “Lá Haula”=there is no Majesty, etc. An ejaculation of displeasure, disappointments, despair.
486 In text “Maháshima-k”=good works, merits; in a secondary sense beard and mustachios. The word yard (etymologically a rod) is medical English, and the young student is often surprised to see, when a patient is told to show his yard, a mere inchlet of shrunken skin. [“Maháshim,” according to Bocthor, is a plural without singular, meaning: les parties de la génération. Pedro de Alcala gives “Hashshúm,” pl. “Hasháshim,” for the female parts, and both words are derived from the verb “hasham, yahshím,” he put to shame. — ST.]
487 Characteristic words of abuse, “O thou whose fate is always to fail, O thou whose lot is ever subject to the accidents of Fortune!”
488 Arab. “Bayzah”=an egg, a testicle. See “Bayza’áni,” vol. ii. 55.
489 Here the text ends with the tag, “Concluded is the story of the Woman with her Husband and her Lover. It is related of a man which was a Kazi,” etc. I have supplied what the writer should have given.
It is related of a man which was a Kazi that he had a wife of the virtuous and the righteous and of the charitable and the pitiful to the orphan and the pauper; and the same was beautiful exceedingly. Her husband held and was certified anent womankind that all and every were like unto his spouse; so that when any male masculant came into his court490 complaining about his rib he would deliver his decision that the man was a wrong-doer and that the woman was wronged. On such wise he did because he saw that his wife was the pink of perfection and he opined that the whole of her sex resembled her, and he knew naught of the wickedness and debauchery of the genus and their sorcery and their contrariety and the cunning contrivance wherewith they work upon men’s wits. He abode all careless of such matters, in consequence of the virtues of his spouse, until one chance day of the days when suddenly a man came to him with a grievance about his better half and showed how he had been evil entreated by her and how her misconduct was manifest and public. But when the man laid his case before the Kazi and enlarged upon his charge, the Judge determined that he was in tort and that his wife was in the right; so the complainant went forth the court as one deaf and blind who could neither hear nor see. Moreover he was perplexed as to his affair, unknowing what he should do in the matter of his helpmate and wherefore the Kazi had determined contrary to justice that he had ill-used his spouse. Now as to the Kazi’s wife none could forgather with her;491 so the plaintiff was distraught and confounded when he was met unexpectedly on the way by one who asked him, “What may be thy case, O certain person, and how hath it befallen thee with the Kazi in the matter of thy rib?” “He hath given sentence,” quoth the man, “that I am the wrong-doer and that she is the wronged, and I know not how I shall act.” Whereupon quoth the other, “Return and take thy station hard by the entrance to the Judge’s Harem and thyself under the protection of its inmates.” The man did as his friend advised him and knocked, when a handmaiden came out and he said to her, “O Damsel, ’tis my desire that thou send me hither thy lady, so I may bespeak her with a single word.” She went in and informed her mistress492 who rose and humoured him, and standing veiled behind the door asked, “What is to do with thee, O man?” “O my lady,” said he, “I place myself under thy ward and thine honour, so thou enable me to get justice of my wife and overcome her and prevail over her, for in very deed she hath wronged me and disgraced me. I came to complain of her ill-conduct before His Honour our lord the Kazi, yet he hath determined that I am the wrong-doer and have injured her while she is the wronged. I know not what I shall do with him, and sundry of the folk have informed me that thou art of the beneficent; so I require that thou charge for me the Judge to deliver according to Holy Law his decree between me and my mate.” Quoth she, “Go thou and take thy rest, nor do thou return to him until he shall have sent after thee, and fear not aught from him at all.” “Allah increase thy weal, O my lady,” quoth he, and he left her and went about his business pondering his case and saying to himself in mind, “Oh would Heaven I wot whether the Kazi’s wife will protect me and deliver me from this fornicatress, this adulteress, who hath outraged me and carried away my good and driven me forth from her.” Now when it was night-tide and the Judge was at leisure from his commandments, he went into his Harem, and it was his wife’s custom whenever he returned home to meet him at the middle doorway. But as on that occasion she failed so to do, he walked into the apartment wherein she woned and found her at prayers; then he recalled to mind the contention of the man who had come to him with a grievance against his spouse — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
490 The “Mahkamah” (Place of Judgment), or Kazi’s Court, at Cairo is mostly occupied with matrimonial disputes, and is fatally famous for extreme laxness in the matter of bribery and corruption. During these days it is even worse than when Lane described it. M.E. chapt. iv.
491 The first idea of an Eastern would be to appeal from the Kazi to the Kazi’s wife, bribing her if he failed to corrupt the husband; and he would be wise in his generation as the process is seldom known to fail.
492 In Arab. “Sitta-há”: the Mauritanians prefer “Sídah,” and the Arabian Arabs Kabírah”=the first lady, Madame Mère.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Kazi went in to his wife whom he found praying, he recalled to mind the matter of the man who had come to him with a contention against his spouse and he said in his thought, “Verily nor hurting nor harming ever cometh from womankind and indeed this liar complaineth of his wife falsely;” for it was still in his mind that all of the contrary sex are as virtuous as his lady. But when she had done with her devotions, she rose up to him and served him and set before him, she and her handmaidens, the tray of food and she sat down at meat with him as was her wont. Now amongst the dishes was a charger containing two chickens, so said she to her husband, “By Allah, O my lord, do thou buy for us to-morrow a couple of geese that I may let stuff them, for my heart is set upon eating of their meat.” Said he, “O my lady, to-morrow (Inshallah! an it be the will of the Almighty) I will send to the Bazar and let buy for thee two geese of the biggest and the fattest and the Eunuchs shall slaughter them and thou shalt use them as thou will.” Accordingly, at dawn-tide the Judge sent to buy two plump birds and bade the Eunuchs cut their throats and the handmaidens gutted them and stuffed them and cooked them with rice over and above the usual food. Thereupon the Kazi’s wife arose and proceeded to work her contrivance. She had bought two sparrows which the hunter had trapped; and she bade kill and dress them and place them upon the rice instead of the geese and awaited the even-tide when her husband would return to supper. Then they spread the tables whereupon was placed a covered platter under which he supposed stood the geese, so he took it off and behold, he found the two sparrows. Hereat he was perplext and said to his wife, “Allaho Akbar-God is most Great-where be the geese?” and said she to him, “Whatso thou broughtest here it be493 before thee upon the dish.” “These be two sparrows,” quoth he, and quoth she, “I wot not.” So the Judge arose displeased494 with his wife and going to her home fetched her father and as she saw him coming, she stood up and whipping off the two small birds placed the big ones in their stead; and he uncovered the plate and found the geese. So he said to his son-in-law, “Thou declarest that these be sparrows but indeed they are geese;” for he also was deceived and went forth in displeasure with the Judge, after which the Kazi followed in his footstep and soothed him and invited him to meat but he would not return with him. Hereupon the husband padlocked the door but, before he had entered, the wife had substituted the birdies for the big birds and when her mate sat down to meat and would fain have eaten he uncovered the platter and beheld the two sparrows. Seeing this he was like to go out of his mind and he cried aloud, “Walláhi! Indeed this be a portentous calamity,” and he went forth, trotting in his haste, until he met his father-in-law upon the way. Then he cried upon him and said, “Come and look at the two geese which were in the platter.” “Wherefore?” asked the other and answered he, “Because I found them changed to two sparrows.” Hereupon the father returned with him to the house and walked up to the table whence the lady, during her husband’s absence, had removed the birdies and replaced the birds in lieu of them. So the father took off the cover and finding before him the pair of geese said to his son-in-law, “Be these two geese? consider them well whether they be sparrows or not.” “Two geese,” said the other and said the sire, “Then why dost thou come to me a second and a several time and bring me hither and complain of my daughter?” Hereupon he left him and went forth an-angered and the Judge came up with him at the doorway and soothed him and conjured him to return. Meanwhile the lady arose and whipping off the geese set the two birdies in lieu thereof and covered them up; and as soon as the Kazi returned and sat down to meat he removed the cover from the platter and found the two sparrows. Hereat he shrieked aloud and arose and went forth the door and cried, “Ho Moslems, come ye to my help!”495 Now when the people of the quarter heard the outcry, they gathered together about the house, when the lady seized the occasion to carry off the two birdies and to set in lieu of them the two geese. Asked they, “What is to do with thee, O our lord the Kazi, and what hath befallen thee?” and he answered, “I bought two geese for our supper and now I find them turned into two sparrows;” and so saying he led the Notables of the quarter into his house and showed them the dish. They uncovered it and found therein two geese, so they exclaimed, “These be two geese which thou callest sparrows;” and so saying they left him and went their ways. He followed them making excuses and was absent for a while, when his wife took the birds and set the birdies in place of them and when the Kazi returned and proceeded to sit down at meat he uncovered the platter and behold, thereon stood the two sparrows. So he smote hand upon hand crying, “These be two sparrows without doubt or hesitation;” whereat his wife arose and called out with a loud voice, “O ye Moslems, help ye a Moslemah.”496 So the folk ran to her aidance and asked her saying, “What is to do, O our lady?” and she answered, “Verily my calamity is grievous and there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great. My husband the Kazi hath gone Jinn-mad and do you of our grace and benevolence lay hold of him and carry him to the Máristán."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
493 In text “Ahú ‘inda-k,"— pure Fellah speech.
494 In text here and below “Maghbún” usually=deceived, cajoled.
495 He began to fear sorcery, Satan, etc. “Muslimína” is here the reg. Arab. plur. of “Muslim”=a True Believer. “Musulmán” (our “Mussalman” too often made plur. by “Mussalmen”) is corrupted Arab. used in Persia, Turkey and India by the best writers as Sa’adi; the plur. is “Musulmánán” and the Hind. fem. is Musalmání. Francois Pyrard, before alluded to, writes (i. 261) “Mouselliman, that is, the faithful.”
496 In the text “help ye the Moslems.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Judge’s wife cried upon the folk of the quarter, “Do ye of your grace and benevolence to us seize the Kazi and carry him to the Maristan that they may confine him therein until he return to his reason and regain his right mind.” Hereupon they laid hands upon him and bore him to the Bedlam and imprisoned him therein amongst the maniacs, and it was certified to all the folk that their Kazi had been suddenly struck by insanity and that they had confined him in the madhouse. Now all this was of the cunning contrivance of his wife, that she might make manifest to him concerning womankind how none of mankind can prevail over them. But after the lapse of three days which the Judge passed in the Bedlam, his wife went in to him bringing a somewhat of food and set meat before him and asked him saying, “What was it thou foundest on the platter?” Answered he, “Two sparrows,” and continued she, “Recover thy senses and thy right mind and see here am I who have made thee out mad for thy confusion between two geese and two sparrows. Now whenever any man cometh to thee complaining of his wife (and thou unknowing aught of the couple and of their circumstances), thou determinest that the male is the evil-doer and withal thou wottest not that women are often the worst of wrongers and that men are sorely wronged by them. And in the matter now in hand, the whole of the folk declare that the Kazi is a wrong-doer to his wife, and no one knoweth that thou art really the wronged and I the wronger. Indeed sooth did he say who said, ‘Alas for those who be gaoled wrongfully!’ So do thou never decide aught thou knowest not. However, thou hast approved to thyself that I am true and loyal to thee and thou makest all the folk like one to other, but this is a sore injury to some. In the present case do thou send for the man who is wronged and let bring him to thy presence and bid his wife be also present and do him justice of her.” After this she removed her husband from the Máristán and went her ways, and the Kazi did with the man as his lady had charged him do and whenever a plaintiff came before him with a grievance against his wife he would decide that the man was the wronged and the woman was the wronger, and he ceased not doing after this fashion for a while of time. And now (quoth Shahrazad) I will relate to you another history of womankind and this is the tale of
Whilome there was, men say, a Khwajah, a merchant man who was lord of money and means and estates and endowments and appanages, withal he had no seed, or son or daughter, and therefore he sued Almighty Allah that he might be blessed with even a girl-child to inherit his good and keep it together. Suddenly he heard a Voice bespeak him in dreamery saying, “Ho Such-an-one, Predestination overcometh Prudence and resignation to the trials sent by Allah is foremost and fairest.” Hearing this he arose without stay or delay and casually498 slept with his wife who, by decree of the Decreer and by allowance of Allah Almighty, conceived that very night. When she became pregnant and the signs of gestation showed in her, the merchant rejoiced and distributed and doled and did alms-deed; and, as soon as her tale of days was fulfilled, there befel her what befalleth womankind of labour-pangs, and parturition came with its madding pains and the dolours of delivery, after which she brought forth a girl-babe moulded in mould of beauty and loveliness and showing promise of brilliance and stature and symmetric grace. Now on the night after the birth and when it was the middle thereof, the Merchant was sitting at converse beside his wife and suddenly he again heard the Voice announcing to him that his daughter was fated to become a mother in illicit guise by the son of a King who reigned in the region Al-Irak. He turned him towards the sound but could see no man at such time, and presently he reflected that between his city and the capital of the King’s son in Al-Irak was a distance of six months and a moiety. Now the night wherein the Merchant’s wife became a mother was the same when the King’s wife of Al-Irak bare a boy-heir, and the Merchant, albe he wist naught thereof, was seized with trembling and terror at the words of the Voice and said in himself, “How shall my daughter forgather with the King’s son in question when between us and him is a travel of six months and a half? What can be such case? But haply this Voice is of a Satan!” As soon as it was morning-tide the father summoned astrologers and men who compute horoscopes and scribes who cast lots,499 and when they presented themselves he informed them that a daughter had been added to his household and his aim was to see what the prognostic500 might be. Hereupon all and every wrought at his art and mystery, and it was shown that the Merchant’s daughter would become a mother by the son of a King and this would be in the way of unright: but so far from informing him of this or suffering him to learn concerning of her circumstance they said, “The future none wotteth it save Allah Almighty and our craft at times proveth soothfast and at times falsifieth us.” However the Khwajah’s heart was on no wise satisfied and he ceased not to suffer patiently nor did rest repose him nor were meat and sleep to him sweet for the space of two years, during which his daughter was suckled and in due time was weaned. The father never ceased pondering how he should act towards his child and at sundry times he would say, “Let us slay her and rest from her,” and at other times he would exclaim, “Let us remove her to a stead where none shall approach her or of man-kind or of Jinn-kind.” Withal did none point out a path to pursue nor did any guide him to any course of the courses he might adopt. Now one day of the days he fared forth his house unknowing whither he should wend and he stinted not wending until he found himself without the town — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
497 Again the old, old story of the “Acrisian maid,” and a prose variant of “Yusuf and Al-Hayfa” for which see supra p. 93. I must note the difference of treatment and may observe that the style is rough and the incidents are unfinished, but it has the stuff of an excellent tale.
498 In text “Min ghayr Wa’ad” = without appointment, sans préméditation, a phrase before noticed.
499 In text, “Al-Mukawwamína wa Arbábu ’l-Aklam,” the latter usually meaning “Scribes skilled in the arts of caligraphy.”
500 In text “Zarb al-Fál” = casting lots for presage, see v. 136.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Khwajah stinted not wending until he found himself without the town, where he was expectedly met by a wight in Darwaysh-garb to whom he salam’d and by whom he was saluted. Presently the holy man turned to the merchant and seeing him changed of colour and conduct asked him, “What is with thee to do, and what ill hast thou to rue that thy case and complexion are so changed to view?” “O Fakir,” answered the other, “verily a matter of marvel hath betided me and I know not how to act therein.” Quoth the ghostly man, “And what may that be?” whereupon the Merchant related to him all his affair first and last, and how he had heard a Voice saying to him, “In very deed thy daughter shall conceive after unlawful fashion by the King’s son of Al-Irak.” The Darwaysh was surprised on hearing these words from him and said in his thought, “There is no averting of adversity foredoomed and Allah will do whatso he will;” presently adding, “O Khwajah, in yonder direction riseth a mountain Jabal al-Saháb501 hight, which is impenetrable or to mankind or to Jinn-kind; but given thou avail to reach it thou wilt find therein and about the middle combe thereof a vast cavern two miles in breadth by an hundred long. Here, an thou have in thee force and thou attain thereto and lodge thy daughter, haply shall Allah Almighty conserve and preserve the maid from what evils thou heardest the Voice declare to thee for her destiny: however, thou shalt on no wise reach those highlands until thou shalt have expended thereon a matter of much money. Moreover at the head and front of that cave502 is an inner crevice which, extending to the mountain-top, admitteth daylight into its depths and displayeth a small pavilion by whose side be five-fold pleasaunce-gardens with flowers and fruits and rills and trees besprent and birds hymning Allah, the One, the Omnipotent. Now an thou avail to convey thy daughter to that place, she shall dwell there secure, safe-guarded.” As soon as the Khwajah heard those words from the Fakir, there faded from his heart whatso there was of thought and forethought and cark and care and he took the hand of the Religious whom he led to his home and honoured him and robed him, for that he had indicated such place of protection. When the maiden reached the age of five and had waxed killing in beauty, her father brought her a learned Divine with whom she began reading and who taught her the Koran and writing and the art of caligraphy;503 and when she had seen the first decade, she fell to studying astrology and astronomy and the aspect of the Heavens. Such was her case; but as regards that of her sire the Merchant, from the hour he forgathered with the Darwaysh he ceased not to hold him in his heart and presently he proposed to take him and travel with him to the mountain aforementioned. So they set out together and when they reached it they found it a site right strong as though fortified, and entering the antre they fell to considering it right and left till they reached its head where they came upon the little pavilion. After all this quoth the Fakir, “Indeed such stead shall safe-guard thy daughter from the shifts of the Nights and the Days;” withal was he unknowing that the Decreed be determined and must perforce be done, albeit Doom be depending from the skirts of the clouds.504 And the Religious ceased not showing the site until he caused his companion enter the parterres, which he found as they had been described to him with flowers and fruits and streams and trees besprent and birds hymning the One, the Omnipotent. As soon as they had finished solacing themselves with the sights, they fared back to their town where, during their absence-term, the damsel’s mother had made ready for them viaticum and presents, and by the time the twain returned they found ready to hand everything of travel-gear and all the wants of wayfare. So they equipped themselves and set forth, taking with them the maiden together with five white slave-girls and ten negresses and as many sturdy black chattels who loaded the packs upon the mules’ and the camels’ backs. Then they fell to cutting across the wilds and, each and everyone intent upon ministering to the maiden, and they ceased not faring until they drew near the mountain, and they took station by the cavern-door. Here they unloaded the bales and burthens and transported them to the pavilion within the cave, after which the Merchant’s daughter went in and as she walked forwards fell to gazing, rightwards and leftwards, until such time as she had reached the pavilion. Presently she found it poikilate of corners and columns, and she was assured that the distance of that mountain from her father’s town measured the march of a full-told month. And whenas she had taken seat and had settled in that pavilion, her father considered the unapproachable nature of the place and waxed contented of heart and his mind became right of rede, because he was certified of his daughter that she was safe from the tricks of Time and every trickster.505 So he tarried beside her for a decade of days, after which he farewelled her and wended him home, leaving the damsel in the mountain-cave. Thus fared it with these; but as regards the case of the Prince of Al-Irak, his father who owned no issue, or man-child or girl-child, lay sleeping one night of the nights when, lo and behold! he heard the words, “All things befal by Fate and Fortune.” Hereat he arose from slumber being sore startled and cried, “Laud to the Lord whom I have heard say506 that all things depend upon Doom and Destiny.” On the next night he slept with his spouse who by leave of Almighty Allah forthright conceived. When her pregnancy became manifest the Sovran rejoiced and he scattered and largessed and doled alms-deeds to the widows and paupers and the mean and miserable; and he sued the Creator on high saying, “O Lord vouchsafe to me a man-boy which may succeed me in the reign, and deign Thou make him a child of life.”507 But when the Queen’s time had sped she was seized by labour-pangs and delivery-pains, after which she bare a babe — Glory be to God who created him and confirmed what He had wrought in the creation of that child who was like unto a slice of the moon! They committed him to the wet-nurses who fell to suckling him and tending him and fondling him till the milk-term was completed, and when his age had reached the sixth year, his father brought for him a Divine perfect in knowledge of all the sciences, spiritual and temporal, and the craft of penmanship and what not. Accordingly, the boy began to read and study under his learner until he had excelled him in every line of lore, and he became a writer deft, doughty in all the arts and sciences: withal his sire knew not that was doomed to him of dule and dolours. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
501 “The Mount of Clouds.”
502 In the margin is written “Kbb,” possibly “Kubb” for “Kubbah” = a vault, a cupola. [I take “Kubba” for the passive of the verb “Kabba” = he cut, and read “Fajwatun” for “Fajwatan” = ”and in that cave there is a spot in whose innermost part from the inside a crevice is cut which,” etc. — ST.]
503 “Zarb al-Aklám,” before explained: in a few pages we shall come upon “San’at al-Aklám.
504 A pun upon the name of the Mountain.
505 In text “Wa kulli Tárik” = Night-traveller, magician, morning-star.
506 i.e. In Holy Writ — the Koran and the Ahádís.
507 “Walad al-Hayáh” for “Hayát” i.e. let him be long-lived.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Prince became a penman doughty in all knowledge, withal he wist not that was written for him of dule and dolours. This lasted until his tenth year, and the old King rejoiced in him and caused him to back steeds until he had mastered all of horsemanship, and he waxed accomplished in hunting and birding and he had attained the bourne of omnis res scibilis. Every morning he would superintend the governance of his sire in the office of Commandments and direct him to affairs wherein lay rede that was right until, one day of the days, his parent said to him “O my son, do thou rule for a day and I will govern on the next.” “O my father,” said he, “I am young of years nor is it meet that I meddle with public matters or sit in thy Divan.” Now when he reached the age of fourteen and had entered upon man’s estate and had waxed perfect in the words of ordinance and had become complete and sanspareil in beauty and loveliness, the King resolved upon marrying him, but he consented not, nor did his heart incline to womankind for the being in the All-Knowledge of Almighty Allah all that was foredoomed to him from Time beginningless. Presently on a chance day his nature longed for the hunt and chase, and he asked leave of his sire who consented not, fearing for his safety; but he said in himself, “An I go not I will slay myself;”508 and so he privily apprized of his intent a party of his dependents who, all and every, prepared to ride forth with him into the Desert. Now the King had in his stables a stallion, known as Abú Hamámah,509 which was kept alone in a smaller stall, and he was chained by four chains to a like number of posts510 and was served by two grooms who never could draw nigh to him or let him loose; nor could any, save only his lord, approach him with bridle or saddle or aught of horse-gear. But when the Prince had designed to fare forth a-hunting and a-birding, he went in to his father’s steed Abu Hamamah by hest of Allah Almighty’s might over him and for what was hidden to him in the Future, and found him chained and tethered; and, as the horse pleased him and affected his fancy, he approached him and gentled him with caressing hands. The stallion also at that time under decree of Destiny was influenced by the Lord and directed towards the Prince for the sake of that which was hidden from him in the World of Secrets. So he continued to gentle the animal and to caress him and to make much of him and he was all the more pleased with him, and said to himself, “Verily my going forth to hunt and the chase shall not be save upon this stallion;” and he ceased not pacing and pressing around him, soothing him the while, until the steed showed subjection and neither started nor lashed-out nor indeed moved a limb, but stood like a man obedient and dependent. And when the youth’s glance wandered around he saw beside the stallion a closet, and as he neared it and opened it he found therein all manner harness and equipments, such as a saddle complete with its girths and shovel-stirrups and bit and bridle,511 whilst on every side was gear of warfare enfolded in the furniture, such as scymitar and dagger;512 and a pair of pistols. So he wondered at this circumstance of the horse how that none could draw near him or place upon him that harness, and he likewise marvelled at the subjection of the steed to himself. Hereupon he carried the furniture from the closet and going forth with it walked up to the Father of a Pigeon, which was somewhat fearful of him and affrighted, and he uplifted the saddle and threw it upon his back, and girthed him tight and bridled him with the bit, when the horse became adorned as a bride who is displayed upon her throne. Now the King’s son at times enquired of himself saying, “An I loose this horse from his chains he will start away from me;” and at other times quoth he, “At this hour the stallion will not think of bolting from me,” and on this wise he abode between belief and unbelief in his affair. And he stinted not asking of himself until his suite was a-weary of waiting and of looking at him, so they sent to him praying that he would hurry, and he said in his thought, “I place my trust in Allah, for the Forewritten hath no flight therefrom.” Anon he loosed the stallion’s chains after harnessing and girthing him straitly; then, throwing his right leg over his back513 mounted thereupon with a spring and settled himself in selle and came forth. And all who looked at that steed were unable to stand upon the road until the Prince had ridden forwards and had overtaken the rest of his suite without the town, whence they sought the hunting-grounds. But when they were amiddlemost the waste lands and beyond sight of the city, the courser glanced right and left and tossed his crest and neighed and snorted and ran away; then shaking his head and buck-jumping under the son of the Sultan bolted514 with him until he became like a bird whereof is seen no trace nor will trick avail to track.515 When his folk beheld him they were impotent to govern their horses until their lord had vanisht from their view, nor had anyone the muscle or the manhood to keep up pursuit. So waxing perplext and wildered in their wits they sought counsel one of other saying, “Let each and every of us ride by a separate road until such a day when haply we shall meet him.” Hereupon the whole party dispersed and all took their own directions seeking the Prince; and they stinted not search, anon putting out to speed and anon retracing their steps516 and then returning by the same road. This endured for five days when not a soul came upon their liege lord, so they waxed distraught nor could they find right guidance to aught they should do. However when the trysting-day came, all gathered together and said, “Fare we to the Sultan and acquaint we him with this and let him devise a device for the matter of his son; because this youth is his father’s prop and stay, nor owneth he any other than this one.” Hereupon they set out citywards and ceased not riding until they drew near the capital where they found a marquee pitched without the walls, and having considered it they knew it to be the King’s own. So they drew near it and there found the Chamberlains and Nabobs and officers of high commandment standing round about it, and when they asked saying, “What is the cause for setting up yonder tent in such place?” they were answered, “Verily, whenas his son fared from him designing to hunt and bird, on the next day his heart was straitened for the Youth and he wist not what had befallen him. On the first night when the Prince fared forth from him and disappeared, all went well, but on the second his breast was straitened and in his vitals he sensed a change and ’twas at the hour when the stallion began buck-jumping with his child and running away. Anon he lost all patience and unable to endure session within his Palace so he commanded pitch his pavilion without the walls and here we have been sitting for a space of six days, awaiting the escort to return.” As the party drew near the marquee the bruit of them went abroad until it came to the King’s ears. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
508 This and other incidents appear only at the latter end of the tale, MS. p. 221.
509 i.e. “Father of a Pigeon,” i.e. surpassing in swiftness the carrier-pigeon.
510 “Bi-sab’a Sikak” = lit. “with seven nails;” in the MS. vol. vi. p. 133, 1. 2, and p. 160, 1. 4, we have “four Sikak,” and the word seems to mean posts or uprights whereto the chains were attached. [“Sakk,” pl. “Sikák” and “Sukúk,” is nail, and “Sikkah,” pl. “Sikak,” has amongst many other meanings that of “an iron post or stake” (Bocthor: piquet de fer). — ST.]
511 In text “Al-Lijám w’ al-Bílám” = the latter being a “Tábi’” or dependent word used only for jingle. [The Muhít explains “Bilám” by “Kimám at-Thaur” = muzzle of a bull, and Bocthor gives as equivalent for it the French “cavecon” (English “cavesson” nose-band for breaking horses in). Here, I suppose, it means the headstall of the bridle. — ST.]
512 In Arab. “Al-Sayfu w’-al Kalani.”
513 In text “Itowwaha,” which is repeated in p. 146, 1. 2. [“Ittawwah” seems to be the modern Egyptian 5th form of “Tauh.” In classical Arabic it would be “tatawwah,” but in the dialect of to-day the prefix becomes “it,” whose final dental here assimilates with the initial palatal of the root; p. 146 the word is correctly spelt with two Tashdids. The meaning is: he threw himself (with his right foot foremost) upon the horse’s back. Instances of this formation, which has now become all but general in Egyptian, are not infrequent in old Arabic, witness chapters lxxiii. and lxxiv. of the Koran, which begin with “ayyuhá ’l Muddassiru” and “ayyuhà ’l-Muzzammilu” respectively. — ST.]
514 In text “Ramaha bi-h.”
515 The vowel points in the MS. show this to be a quotation.
516 In text “Yarjú,” I presume an error for “yarja’u.” [I believe “yarju” is an error for yajrú,” and the various paces to which they put their horses are meant: sometimes they galloped (ramahú), sometimes they trotted (Pedro de Alcala gives “trotar” for “jará yajrí”), sometimes they ambled (yasírú). — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King feeling his breast a-straitened bade pitch his pavilion without the walls and tarried therein for a space of six days and on the seventh appeared his son’s suite which had been left behind when the horse ran away with the Prince, nor did any know what direction the beast had taken. As soon as the bruit went abroad and came to the ears of the bereaved father, he cried out with a single outcry and fell to the ground aswoon, and the fainting fit lasted for two days. But when he came to himself and asked after his son, the suite reported all that had befallen the youth from the stallion and at that moment the King recalled to mind the Voice which had spoken saying, “All things befal by Fate and Fortune;” and had declared, “Resignation to the trials sent by Allah is first and best till such time as Destiny shall win to her end.” “If” (he mused) “my lot be forgathering with him anywheres then needs must it be; and, if otherwise, we will be patient under the All-might of Allah Most Highest.” Such was the case with these; but as concerns the young Prince,517 when the stallion started off with him and bolted and became like a bird flying between the firmament and terra firma, he suffered nor fatigue nor emotion, nay, he sat contented upon the beast’s back, for that had he hent in hand a cup full of coffee naught thereof would have been spilt. And the stallion ceased not galloping at speed with him through the livelong day until night came on when, seeing a lake, he halted by the side of it. The Prince thereupon dismounted and withdrawing the bridle offered him water which he drank; then he foddered him with forage which he ate, for our Lord had subjected to him that steed till it became between his hands like one familiar from the first and, as the youth had somewhat of provaunt in his budget, he drew forth of it and took food. But the Prince knew not whither the horse was minded to bear him and the Fiat of Fate drove him to the matter foredoomed to him from Eternity. So after that time as often as he mounted and let loose the bridle thongs,518 the horse paced unguided on those wilds and wastes and hills and dales and stony leas, and whenever they drew near a city or a town the son of the Sultan dismounted from his steed; and, leaving him where he was, went into the streets in order to bring provaunt and forage, after which he could return to his beast and feed him in the same place. And he ceased not wayfaring until he drew near a city where he designed to dismount as was his wont and lay in somewhat of vivers and fodder, so he alighted and leaving his horse outside the houses he went in to satisfy his need. Now by the decree of the Decreer the King of that Capital had left it on an excursion to hunt and bird, and he chanced return at that moment and as he drew near the walls behold, he found the steed standing alone and harnessed with trappings fit for the Kings. The Sultan was astounded when he looked upon this and being on horseback himself he designed to draw near and catch the animal, and when he came close he put forth his hand. But the steed was scared with the scaring of a camel, and the King bade his followers form ring around him and seize him; so they gat about him and designed to catch him and lead him away, when suddenly the steed screamed a scream which resounded throughout the city and when the horses heard the cry of that stallion they turned with their riders in headlong flight and dispersed one from other. And amongst them was the Sultan, who, when his courser ran away with him, strove hard to pull him up and control him, but he lost all power and whilst the rest of the horses were trembling under their riders he swooned and fell to the ground. Presently the followers came to his aid and found him in fainting condition, so they propped him up and sprinkled somewhat of water upon him, when he recovered and asked them, “Where is the horse?” Answered they, “He is still standing in the same place;” and quoth he, “Walláhi, needs must this affair have a cause, and do ye lie awaiting him and see whither he will wend, for this beast God wots must be of the Jinns.” On this wise it befel them; but as regards the horse’s owner, the son of the Sultan, when he entered the city seeking to buy somewhat of victual and fodder, he heard the scream of the steed and recognised it, but of the city-folk all who had hearkened to that outcry felt their hearts fluttering with extreme affright; so each one rose and padlocked his shop and hardly believed that he could reach his house in safety and this continued until the capital (even within its bazars) became empty like a waste, a ruin. Hereupon quoth the youth, “By Allah, needs must some matter of the matters have befallen the horse,” and so saying he went forth the city and walked on till he neared the site where he had left the steed when, behold, he came suddenly upon a party of people in the middlemost whereof appeared one sitting and trembling in all his limbs, and he saw the attendants standing about him and each one holding in hand a horse. So he drew near him and asked him what was to do and they acquainted him with the affair of the stallion and his scream and the cause of the man being seated; and this was none other than the Sultan who had been seized with affright and had fainted at the outcry of the Father of a Pigeon. Hereupon he fell to conversing with them and they knew not that he was the owner of the steed until such time as he asked them, “And doth not any of you avail to draw near him?” Answered they, “O Youth indeed there is none who can approach him.” Quoth he, “This is a matter which is easy to us and therein is no hindrance;” and so saying he left them and turned towards the courser who no sooner saw him than he shook his head at him; and he approached the beast and fell to stroking his coat and kissing him upon the brow. After this he strewed somewhat of fodder before him and offered him water and the stallion ate and drank until he was satisfied. All this and the suite of the Sultan was looking on at the Prince and presently informed their lord, saying, “O King of the Age, a Youth hath come to us and asked us for information touching this steed and when we told him what had happened he approached him and gentled him and bussed him on the brow; and after that he strewed before him somewhat of forage which he ate and gave him water to drink and still he standeth hard by him.” When the Sultan heard these words he marvelled and cried, “By Allah, indeed this is a wondrous matter, but do ye fare to him and bring him to me, him and his horse; and, if he make aught delay with you, seize and pinion him and drag him before me debased and degraded and in other than plight pleasurable!”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King sent to his suite bidding them bring the owner of that stallion adding, “If he make aught delay with you drag him before me debased and degraded, and in other than pleasurable plight.” Accordingly, they went to him and accosting him said, “O youth, thou owest hearing and obeying to His Highness the King; and, if thou come not to him with good gree we will bear thee maugre thyself.” But the Prince, hearing these their words, set his left foot in stirrup and throwing his right leg over the saddle mounted till he was firm of seat upon his stallion’s back and had power over his monture. Then he asked saying, “Who amongst you shall come near me to carry me to yonder Sultan of yours?” Whenas they saw this from him they kept away from his arm-reach, but inasmuch as they could not return to their King and report saying, “We availed not to bring him,” they exclaimed, “Allah upon thee, O Youth, that thou draw nigh with us to the Sovran and bespeak him from the back of thy steed: so shall we be clear and bear nor rebuke nor reproach.” Hearing this much the Prince understood what was in their thoughts and that their design was to win free of the King and the avoidance of blame; accordingly he said to them; “Fare ye before me and I will follow you.”519 But when they returned with the youth behind them to within a short distance of the King where either of the twain could hear the other’s words, the Prince asked, “O King of the Age, what dost thou require of me and what is it thou wantest?” “Do thou dismount,” answered the Sultan, “and draw near me when I will tell thee and question thee of a certain matter;” but quoth the youth, “I will not alight from the back of my steed and let whoso hath a claim upon me demand satisfaction,520 for here be the Maydán — the field of fight.” So saying he wheeled his steed and would have made for the open country, when the Sultan cried aloud to his followers, “Seize him and bring him hither.” So they took horse all of them, a matter of one hundred and fifty riders, and followed him at full speed (he still riding) and overtook him and formed a ring around him, and he seeing this shortened the bridle-reins and gored flanks with stirrup-irons when the beast sprang from under him like the wafting of the wind. Then he cried out to them, “Another day, O ye dogs;” and no sooner had they heard his outcry than they turned from him flying and to safety hieing. When the Sultan beheld his followers, some hundred and fifty riders, returning to the presence in headlong flight and taking station before him, he enquired the cause of their running, and they replied that none could approach that horseman, adding, “Verily he cried a warcry which caused each and every of us to turn and flee, for that we deemed him one of the Jánn.” “Woe to you!” exclaimed the King: “an hundred and fifty riders and not avail to prevail over a single horseman!” presently adding, “By Allah, his say was sooth who said,
‘And how many an one in the tribe they count
When to one a thousand shall ne’er amount?’
Verily this youth could not be confronted by a thousand, nor indeed could a whole tribe oppose him, and by Allah, I have been deficient in knightly devoir for not doing him honour; however, it was not to be save on such wise.” But the youth ceased not faring through days and nights for the whole of four months, unknowing the while when he should reach a place wherein to take repose. And as soon as this long wayfare ended, suddenly a mountain towering high to the heights of heaven arose before him; so he set his face thither, and after a further term of three days521 (and he ever wayfaring) he reached it and beheld upon its flanks fair leasows with grasses and rills and trees and fruits besprent, and birds hymning Allah the One, the Omnipotent. Anon he alighted therein for that his heart had somewhat to say anent that mountain, and he also marvelled thereat by cause that during his wayfare he had never seen aught like it at all, nor anything resembling that herbage and those streams. And after dismounting he unbridled his steed and suffered him browse and pasture upon the greenery and drink of the water, while he on like wise fell to eating of the fruits which hung from the trees and taking his ease and repose. But the more he shifted from place to place the fairer he found it than the first, so he was delighted with the site, and as he looked upon it he improvised these couplets,
“O who fearest the world do thou feel right safe;
Trust all to Him did mankind create:
Fate aye, O my lord, shall come to pass
While safe thou art from th’ undoomed by Fate.”
The Sultan’s son ceased not straying from stead to stead for a term of ten days, during which he wandered round about the Mountain and solaced himself by gazing upon the trees and waters,522 and he was gladdened by the warbling of the birds till at length the Doom of Destiny and the Fiat of Fate cast him over against the door of the cave which contained the Khwajah’s daughter with her handmaids and her negro slaves. He looked at the entrance and marvelled and was perplexed at — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
519 The invariable practice of an agent de police in England and France, according to the detective tales of MM. Gaboriau and Du Boisgobey. In Africa the guide often attempts to follow instead of leading the party, and this proceeding should always awake suspicion.
520 In text another prothesis without apodosis: see vol. vi. 203, etc.
521 In text “Fa ghába thaláthat ayyamin” = and he (or it the mountain?) disappeared for three days. [“Ghába” = departed, may have here the meaning of “passed away” and three days had gone, and he ever travelling, before (ilà an) he reached it. — ST.]
522 A feeling well-known to the traveller: I have often been laughed at for gazing fondly upon the scanty brown-green growth about Suez after a few months’ sojourn in the wolds of Western Arabia. It is admirably expressed in that book of books Eothen (chapt. xvii.):—“The next day I entered upon Egypt, and floated along (for the delight was as the delight of bathing) through green wavy fields of rice, and pastures fresh and plentiful, and dived into the cold verdure of grasses and gardens, and quenched my hot eyes in shade, as though in deep, rushing waters.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the King’s son took place before the Cavern-door he marvelled at its strength intended to protect those within, but he knew not if it had any inmate or an it were void of inhabitants, seeing that the mountain was far distant and divided from towns and cities nor could any avail to reach it. So he said in his mind, “Sit thee down here over against the entrance amid these grasses and trees and fruits, for an thou quit this site thou shalt find none like it in charms and eke it shall console thee for parting from thy people. Moreover, haply shall someone of this place pass by me and from him I may ask tidings concerning this region and peradventure Almighty Allah shall guide me back to my own country and I shall forgather with my father and my folk and my friends. Indeed possibly there may be someone within this place who when he issueth forth shall become my familiar.” So he ceased not sitting at the door of the cave for a term of twenty days eating of the fruits of the trees and drinking of the water of the rain pools as likewise did his steed; but when it was the twenty and first day, behold, the door of the antre was thrown open and there came forth it two black slave-girls and a negro chattel, followed by five white handmaidens, all seeking diversion and disport among those meadows which lay on the mountain-flank and beyond. But as they paced along their eyes fell on the son of the Sultan who was still sitting there with his steed before him and they found him cast in the mould of beauty and loveliness, for he had now rested in that place from his wayfare and the perfection of charms was manifest upon him. When the slave-girls looked at him they were overwhelmed by the marvels of his comeliness and shapeliness and they returned in haste and hurry to their mistress and said to her, “O our lady, verily at the cavern-door is a Youth, never saw we a fairer than he or a seemlier of semblance, and in very deed he resembleth thee in grace and elegance of face and form, and before him standeth a steed even as a bride.” Now when the Merchant’s daughter heard these words from her handmaidens, she arose and in haste and hurry made for the cave-door and her heart was filled with gladness and she ceased not walking till she reached it. Then she looked upon the Prince and came forward and embraced him523 and gave him the salam and she continued to gaze upon and consider his beauty and comeliness, until love to him settled in her heart and likewise the Prince’s love to her increased. Hereupon she hent him by the hand and led him into the cavern where he fell to looking rightwards and leftwards about the sides thereof and wondering at what he saw therein of pleasaunces and trees and streams and birds, until at last they reached the pavilion. But before entering thither the Prince had led his horse and loosed him in the leasows which lay in the cavern; and, when at last the twain ended at the palace and went within, the attendants brought meat for him; so he ate his sufficiency and they washed his hands and then the couple fell to conversing together whilst all were delighted with the son of the King. And they continued in such case until night drew nigh when each of the handmaidens went to her chamber and lay her down and on like wise did the black slaves until there remained none save the Prince and the Merchant’s daughter. Then began she to excite him and incite him and disport with him until his heart inclined towards her by reason of her toyings and her allurements, so he drew near to her and clasped her to his breast and at last he threw her upon her back and did away her maidenhead. Now by hest of Allah Almighty’s All-might she conceived of him that very night and they ceased not to be in sport and laughter until the Creator brought on the dawn which showed its sheen and shone and the sun arose over lowland and lawn. Then did the twain, she and he, sit communing together, when the girl began to improvise these couplets,
“Loving maid in obedience doth come
Trailing skirt with her pride all astir;
And she’s meet for no man save for him
And he’s meet for no maid save for her.”524
After this the Khwajah’s daughter tarried with the King’s son for a term of six months; but, from the night when he had abated her pucelage, he never approached her at all, and she also on like wise felt no lust of the flesh for him in any way nor did she solicit him to love-liesse.525 But when it was the seventh month, the youth remembered his family and native land and he sought leave of her to travel but she said to him, “Why dost thou not tarry beside us?” Said he, “If in our life there be due length needs must we forgather.” Then asked she, “O my lord, who mayest thou be?” so he declared to her his pedigree and degree and the name of his native country and she also informed him of her rank and lineage and her patrial stead. Presently he farewelled her and mounting his horse fared forth from her in early morning — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “Andwhere is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive.” Now when it was the next night and that was
523 The writer does not mean to charge the girl with immodesty (after the style “Come to my arms, my slight acquaintance!”) but to show how powerfully Fate and Fortune wrought upon her. Hence also she so readily allowed the King’s son to possess her person.
524 [I read “al-Muhibbattu,” fem. of “Muhibb,” lover (in Tasawwuf particularly = lover of God), and take the “lam taku taslah” in the second verse for the 3rd person fem., translating: The loving maiden has come in obedience to the lover’s call, proudly trailing her skirts (“tajarru min al-Tíhi Azyála-há”), and she is meet, etc. — ST.]
525 Again the work of Fate which intended to make the lovers man and wife and probably remembered the homely old English proverb, “None misses a slice from a cut loaf.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King’s son farewelled the Merchant’s daughter and fared forth from her in early morning, seeking his folk and his natal land, and he drove amiddlemost the wilds and the wolds. On this wise it was with him; but as regards the merchant, the father of the damsel, he and the Darwaysh after consigning her to the cavern returned to his town and there spent six months in business as was his wont; but on the seventh he called to mind his child and was desolated by her absence because he had none other. So quoth he to her mother, “I have an intent to visit the girl and look upon her and see what may be her condition, for my heart is in sore doubt on her account and I cannot but fancy that some unforeseen casualty hath brought calamity or that some wayfarer may have visited her; and my thoughts are occupied with her, so ’tis my will to fare forth and see her.” “Such act were advisable,” quoth the wife; and so saying she fell to making him somewhat of provaunt amounting to some ten camel-loads.526 Presently he led forth with him a few of his negro slaves and set out to see his daughter on the Jabal al-Saháb. So he dove into the depths of the desert and cut across the dales and the hills and conjoined the journeyings of night with day for a space of three months, and about sunset-tide on the first of the fourth behold, a rider appeared to him coming from the breast of the waste, nor had he with him anyone. When the stranger drew near, the Khwajah saluted him and his salam was returned by the horseman who happened to be the Prince returning from the Merchant’s daughter. Quoth the Khwajah, “O Youth, dismount with us in this place and let us twain, I and thou, night together and solace ourselves with converse;527 then, when it shall be morning, each of us shall depart seeking his own stead.” Quoth the Prince, “No harm in that,” and so saying he sprang from the back of his steed and unbridled him and suffered him to browse upon the grasses and greenery together with the Khwajah’s cattle. Hereat the two sat down together in talk while the slaves slaughtered a lamb and flayed it, then, having lighted a fire, they set the meat thereupon in a chauldron and when it was cooked they fished it out with a flesh-hook and scored it528 and placed it in a mighty platter which they served up to their lord and the King’s son. Both ate of it after the measure of their sufficiency and the remnants were borne off by the slaves for their suppers. And when the time for night-prayers came, the two having made the Wuzú-ablution performed the orisons obligatory upon them, and anon sat down for evening converse, overtalking the tidings of the world and its affairs, until quoth the Merchant to the Prince, “O Youth, whence comest thou and whither art thou wending?” Quoth the other, “Walláhi, O Khwajah, I have a wondrous tale, nay a marvel of marvels which, were it graved with needle-gravers upon the eye-corners were a warning to whoso would be warned. And this it is, I am the King’s son of Al-Irak and my sire’s prop and stay in the House of the World, and he reared me with the fairest of rearing; but when I had grown to man’s estate and had learnt the mysteries of venerie I longed one chance day of the days to ride forth hunting and birding. So I went for a horse (as was my wont) to the stables, where I found yon stallion which is with me chained to four posts; whereupon of my ignorance, unknowing that none could approach him save myself nor any avail to mount him, I went up to him and girthed him, and he neither started nor moved at my gentling of him, for this was existing in the purpose of Almighty Allah. Then I mounted him and sought my suite without informing my sire and rode forth the city with all my many, when suddenly the horse snorted with his nostrils and neighed through his throttle and buckjumped in air and bolted for the wilderness swift as bird in firmament-plain, nor wist I whither he was intending.529 He ceased not running away with me the whole day till eventide when we reached a lake in a grassy mead.” (Now when the Khwajah heard the words of the Prince his heart was heartened and presently the other pursued), “So I took seat and ate somewhat of my vivers, my horse also feeding upon his fodder, and we nighted in that spot and next morning I set out and stinted not riding for a march of four months. But on the first of the fifth I neared a towering mountain whose length and whose breadth had no bounds, and on its flanks I found leasows manifold with trees and fruits and streams besprent and birds hymning the One, the Omnipotent. So I was gladdened by the sight and dismounted and unbridled my steed whom I allowed to browse the while I ate of the fruits, and presently I fell to roaming about from site to site. And when some time had passed I came to the mouth of a cavern whence after a short delay on my part fared forth slave-girls under the escort of a negro chattel. When they beheld me they rejoiced in me, then going in they disappeared for an hour and anon returned bringing a young lady as she was the moon of the fourteenth night, who salam’d to me, and invited me to become her guest and led me into the cave”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night, an the Sovran suffer me to survive.” Now when it was the next night and that was
526 A little matter of about a ton at the smallest computation of 200 lbs. to each beast.
527 In text “Natawású sawíyah” [Clerical error for “natawánasú (nataánasú, the rarely used 6th form of anisa) shuwayyah” = let us divert ourselves a little. — ST.]
528 In text “salaku-hu wa nashalú-hu.” The “salk” = scoring the skin and the “nashl” = drawing meat from the cooking-pot with the fingers or a flesh-hook or anything but a ladle which would be “Gharf.”
529 This account has been slightly abridged seeing that it is a twice-told tale.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Prince continued to the Merchant saying, “The slave-girls invited me and led me into the cave until I reached a Pavilion that was there. I tarried beside them for a matter of some six months when I felt desolate for my folk and my native land, so I craved leave to depart from them and farewelled them and went forth, they sending me away with highmost honour. But when bidding them goodbye I covenanted with them saying, ‘an there be in life any length needs must we forgather’; and with these words I left them, and now ’tis some time since I journeyed thence when thou mettest me in this place.” Now the Merchant hearing his tale knew from the beginning what had occurred there, and was certified of the saying of the Voice, and judging from the tenor of the information said in his mind, “There is no doubt or hesitation but that this be the youth to whom was appointed my daughter, that of him she should conceive in the way of unright and the Written530 is now fulfilled.” So quoth the Merchant, “O Youth, where is thy town?” and he informed him thereof. Now the Prince knew not that he had come upon the damsel’s father by the road, whereas the Khwajah wotted right well that this man had had to do with his daughter. As soon as it was morning the twain farewelled each other and either of them went his own way; but, the Khwajah fell into cark and care such as cannot be conceived, and he fasted from food nor was meat to him sweet nor was sleep. However, he ceased not travelling till he arrived at the Jabal al-Sahab, when he approached the door of the cave and rapped thereat. The handmaidens opened to him and as soon as they saw his face they recognised him, and returning to their lady informed her thereof: so she arose to seek him, and presently met him and salam’d to him and kissed his hands and walked by his side until she reached the Pavilion, where the twain, he and she, went up, and she seated him and stood before him in his suit and service. Hereat her father looked at her and considered her and found her colour changed and her belly grown big, and asked her, “What is to do with thee and what is’t hath altered thy complexion, for to-day I see thee heavy of body, and no doubt some man has mixed531 with thee?” Now when she heard the words of her father she understood and was certified that he had compassed full knowledge concerning what had befallen her, so she returned him nor answer nor address, and she was overwhelmed with shame and confusion, and waxed changed and was well nigh falling upon the floor. Presently she sat down in abashment before her sire by reason of the bigness of her belly, but he bowed in obedience before the power of Almighty Allah; and they two ceased not conversing until fall of night, when each and every of the handmaids had sought her own chamber that she might sleep therein. As soon as the Khwajah remained alone with his daughter and without other being present he said to her, “O my child, verily this matter was foredoomed to thee from the Lord of the Heavens, and there is no Averter of whatso is fated; but do thou relate to me what befel between thee and the youth who owneth the steed, and who is the King’s son of Al-Irak.” Hereupon the girl was consterned and she could return no reply, and presently when she recovered she said to her sire, “How shall I relate to one who is already informed of all, first and last, and thou declarest that the foredoomed must come to pass, nor can I say thereanent a single word?” And presently she resumed, “O my father, verily the Youth promised me that an his life have length he would certainly forgather with me, and I desire of thee that when thou shalt return to thy country thou take me and carry me in thy company to him, and reunite me with him and let me meet his sire and ask him to keep his word, for I require none else nor shall anyone ever unveil me in privacy. And in fine do thou marry me to him. Now whatso hath betided me thou hast heard it from the Voice, and thou hast wearied thy soul in transporting me to this place, fearing for me the shifts of the days, and thou hast contraried the power of Allah, nor hath this profited thee aught, because the Destinies which be writ upon mankind from infinity and eternity must needs be carried out. All this was determined by Allah, for that prosperity and adversity and benefaction and interdiction all be from the Almighty. Do thou whatso I have said and that which is inscribed upon my forehead shall be the quickening of me (Inshallah — an so please God!), since patience and longsuffering are better than restless thought.” When her father heard from her such words, he agreed with her in all she had spoken to him, and as soon as it was morning he fell to preparing for wayfare, he and his daughter and his handmaidens and his negro-slaves; and on the third day they loaded their loads and set forth on return to their country and city. Then they conjoined the travel of night and day and pushed forward on their journey without stay or delay for a term of five months, until they reached their home and settled them down therein. Such was their case; but as regards the King’s son of Al-’Irak, after he had met the girl’s father on the road and had parted from him, without recognising him withal, he strave for return to his own land and behold, he wandered from the way and was confronted by a sea dashing with clashing billows. So he was perplext as to his affair and his judgment left him and his right wits, and he knew not what he should do or whither he should wend, or what direction he should take or what Allah had decreed for him — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
530 “Written” either on the Preserved Tablet (vol. ii. 68) or on the sutures of the skull (iii. 123).
531 In Arab. “Khálat-kí insánun,” meaning also to lie with. Lat. misceo. [The same word occurs presently in another tropical sense: “Khálata-há al-Khajal wa ’l-Hayá” = shame and abashment mixed with her, i.e. suffused or overwhelmed her. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Prince came upon that sea he was perplext and wist not what to do, so he leapt from the back of the Father of the Pigeon and set his steed standing beside him that he might lean against his quarter532 when, of the excess of his night watching, he fell asleep and was drowned in slumber. Then, by doom of Destiny the beast shook his head and snorted and set off at full speed making for the wild and the wold and was presently amiddlemost the waste. Now when some two-told hours of time had passed, the Prince shook off his drowsihead and opened his eyes, but of his steed could see nor sign nor aught of visible trace. So he smote hand upon hand and cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great,” after which he took seat by the side of the sea and sued comfort of Almighty Allah. On the next day a ship suddenly sailed in and made fast to the shore, after which a posse of Jews landed from her and as soon as they saw him they fell upon him and seized him and pinioned him; then, carrying him perforce aboard, loaded his legs with irons. So quoth he to himself, “Whenas Fate is so minded our eyes are blinded; however, patience is fairest and of Allah must we ask aidance.” Hereupon the Jews again disembarked and filled their kegs with the water of an adjoining rain-pool, after which they trooped aboard and making sail voyaged over the billows of the ocean before them. This lasted for a month, after which time they cast anchor beside a harbour-town, and presently swarmed out to sell and to buy, and there they delayed for a term of two months until they had finished their business and they had purchased them what sufficed of provaunt. All this while the Prince lay bound in the black hole deep down in the ship’s hold, nor did anyone go near him save a Jew, a man of a certain age.533 And whenever he entered that dismal place he heard the youth reciting from the Koran and he would stand to hearken until his heart was softened to the speaker and he would favour him in the matter of meat and drink. When they cast anchor beside the second place, the King’s son asked the man, “What may be this port-city and what is her name and the name of her ruler? Would Heaven I wot an her lord be a King or a Governor under a royal hand?” “Wherefore askest thou?” quoth the Jew, and quoth the other, “For nothing: my only want is the city’s name534 and I would learn whether it belong to Moslems or Jews or Nazarenes.” “This be peopled by Moslem folk,” replied the Jew, “natheless can none carry tidings of thee to her inhabitants. However, O Moslem, I feel a fondness for thee and ’tis my intent when we reach the city of Andalús535 to give tidings of thee, but it must be on condition that thou accept of me to thy company whenas Allah Almighty shall have delivered thee.” Said the Prince, “And what hindereth thee from Al-Islam at this hour?” and said the other, “I am forbidden by fear of the ship’s Captain.”536 Replied the Prince, “Become a Moslem in secret and wash and pray in privacy beside me here.” So he became of the True Believers at the hand of the King’s son, who presently asked him, “Say me, be there in this vessel any Moslems save myself?” “There are some twenty here,” answered he, “and ’tis the design of the Captain to offer them up on arrival at his own country and he shall devote them as victims in the Greater Synagogue.” Rejoined the other, “Thou art now a Moslem even as I am a Moslem, and it besitteth thou apprise me of all and whatsoever befalleth in the ship, but first art thou able to gar me forgather with the other True Believers?” And the man answered in the affirmative. Now after the ship had sailed with them for ten days, the whilome Jew contrived to bring him and the Moslem prisoners together and they were found to number twenty, each and every in irons. But when it was the Sabbath about undurn hour, all the Jews including the Captain fell to wine-bibbing and therein exceeded until the whole of them waxed drunken; whereat the Prince and his convert arose, and going to the armoury537 and opening it found therein all manner war-gear, even habergeons. So the Youth returned to the captives and unbinding their bonds, led them to the cabin of weapons and said to them, “Do each and every of you who shall find aught befitting take it and let such as avail to wear coat of mail seize one of them and don it.” On this wise he heartened their hearts and cried to them, “Unless ye do the deeds of men you will be slaughtered with the slaughtering of sheep, for at this moment ’tis their design on reaching their own land to offer you up as corbans in their Greater Synagogue. So be you on your guard and, if ye fall in this affair,538 ’tis fairer for you than to die with split weasands.” So each of them snatched up whatso of war-gear suited him and one equipped other and they heartened their hearts and all waxed eager for the fray. Then sallied they forth, one and twenty in number, at a single word, with the Takbír and the Tahlíl,539 whilst the Jews who formed the ship’s crew were some one hundred and five. But these were all drunken with wine and giddy of head, nor did they recover until the weapons began to play upon their necks and their backs, whereat they shook off their crapulence and learned that the Moslems had gotten about them with their war-gear. So they cried out to one another and became ware and the liquor-fumes left their brains. Then they rushed for the armoury but found that most of the weapons were with the Moslems, whom the Prince was urging to derring-do of cut and thrust. Thus were they departed into two portions and hardly had passed an hour, an hour which would grey the hair of a little child, in fight and fray and onset and retreat — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
532 In text “Istanade ’alà Shakkati-h.” [“Istanáda ’alà” is in the Vocabulista in Arabico rendered by “recumbere” and “Shikkah” is a rug, while I can find no authority for “Shakkah” as “quarter.” The passage may therefore mean he lay down on his rug. If he had been leaning against the standing horse, it would on bolting have thrown him on the ground and awaked him rudely. — ST.]
533 “Rajul ikhtiyár,” a polite term for an old man: See i. 55. In the speech of the Badawin it means a man of substance and hospitality.
534 **In**? Arab. “Wa lásh: Murádí bas Ism al-Madinah.” I seem to hear some Fellah speaking to me from the door of his clay hut.
535 “Madínat al-Andalús” = usually Seville.
536 In text “Kabdán,” the usual form being “Kaptan,” from the Ital. Capitano (iv. 85): here, however, we have the Turk. form as in “Kapúdán-pashá” = Lord High Admiral of ancient Osmanli-land.
537 Arab. “Khaznat al-Síláh.” When Easterns, especially Maroccan Moslems and Turkish Pilgrims, embark as passengers, their weapons are taken from them, ticketed and placed in a safe cabin.
538 Arab. “Waka’h” = an affair (of fight).
539 i.e. crying the war-cry, “Alláho Akbar” = God is most Great (vol. ii. 89, etc.) and “Lá iláha illa ’llah,” the refrain of Unity: vol. ii. 236.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Prince urged on his party and fortified their hearts to fight, nor had an hour passed in battle and slaughter (and he smiting rightwards and leftwards) when behold, he was encountered by the Captain who sprang at him with his scymitar and designed to cut him down. But he forestalled him with sway of sabre and smote him a swashing stroke and an all-sufficient which share through his joints and tare through his limbs; and when the ship’s crew saw their Chief fall dead they gave in their submission540 and throwing down their weapons would have saved their lives. The Prince, however, went forward to them and fell to pinioning them, one after other, until he had bound them all after which he counted them and found them to number about forty head while the slain were three score and five. These he threw into the sea,541 but the captives he placed in prison after chaining them with iron chains and they padlocked the doors upon them; and the Moslems worked the ship’s sails while the man who had newly islamised directed them upon their course until they moored at a holm hard by the mainland. Here they landed and found the place abounding in blooms and trees and streams, and the Prince left the ship to reconnoitre the continent when suddenly a dust cloud drew nigh and a sand-pillar soared awhile in air high; then it uncovered some fifty horsemen, and they were pursuing in the hottest of haste,542 a stallion which was saddled and bridled and which they intended to secure. Now for ten days they had galloped after him but none availed to catch him. When the King’s son looked upon that case he uttered a loud cry and the courser, hearing the sound of his master’s voice, made for him and fell to rubbing his cheeks upon his back and shoulders543 until they came up with him as he was standing beside his lord. Hereat all the riders dismounted with intent to seize him, but the Prince opposed them saying. “This is my horse and he was lost from me in such a place upon the margin of the main.” Replied they, “’Tis well, but this is our booty nor will we ever leave him to thee, for that during the last ten days we have galloped after him until we are melted, and our horses are melted as well as ourselves. Moreover, our King awaiteth us and if we return without the steed our heads will be cut off.” Quoth the Prince, “Nor ye nor that Sovran of yours can have any command over him, albeit you may have pursued him at speed for ten days or fifteen days or twenty days; nor shall you make him a quarry or for yourselves or for the King of you. By Allah, one Sultan was unable to take even a hair from him and, by the Almighty! were you to pursue him for a full-told year not one of you could come up with him or make him your own.” Hereupon talk increased between them and one drew weapon upon other and there befel between them contest and enmity and rage of bad blood and each clapt hand to sword and drew it from sheath. When the King’s son saw this from them, he sprang upon the steed’s back swiftlier than the blinding leven; and, having settled himself firmly in selle, he put forth his hand and seized a sword which hung by the saddle bow. As soon as the folk saw that he had mounted the horse, they charged upon him with their scymitars and would have cut him down, but he made his steed curvet and withdrew from them saying, “An you design battle I am not fain of fight, and do ye all go about your business and covet not the horse lest your greed deceive you and you ask more than enough and thereby fall into harm. This much we know and if you require aught else let the strongest and doughtiest of you do his best.” Then they charged upon him a second time and a third time and he warded them off and cried, “Allah draw the line between me and you,544 O folk, and do ye gang your gait for you be fifty riders and I be alone and singlehanded and how shall one contend in fight with half an hundred?” Cried they, “Naught shall save thee from us except thou dismount from the steed and suffer us to take him and return home with him;”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
540 In text “A’atú Al-Wírah.” [“Wírah” is gerund of the Turkish “wírmek” or “wermek,” to give, to give up, and the phrase in the text corresponds to the Turkish “wírah wírmek” = to capitulate. — ST.]
541 The “buccaneers,” quite as humane, made their useless prisoners “walk a plank.” The slave-ships, when chased and hard-driven, simply tossed the poor devil niggers overboard; and the latter must often have died, damning the tender mercies of the philanthrope which had doomed them to untimely deaths instead of a comfortable middle passage from Blackland to Whiteland.
542 [In the text “Kárishín” = chasing, being in hot pursuit of; see Dozy, Suppl. s. v. “karash.”— ST.]
543 See in Mr. Doughty’s valuable “Arabia Deserta” (i. 309) how the Badawi’s mare puts down her soft nose to be kissed by the sitters about the coffee-hearth.
544 In text, “Hadda ’lláho bayní wa baynakum.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the fifty horsemen said to the King’s son, “There is no help but that we take from thee the horse,” and said he, “I have given you good advice, and well I wot and am certified that were you two hundred riders ye could never prevail over me whilst I am mounted on my courser’s back and indeed I have no fear of fight; but let any of you who hath claim to knightlihood come forwards and take him and mount him.” So saying he alighted forthright and left his horse and went to some distance from him, when one of the fifty riders pushed forwards and designed to seize the steed by the reins and bestride him, when suddenly the stallion raged like fire at him and attacked him and smote him with his forehand and drove the entrails out of his belly and the man at once fell to the ground slain. As his party saw this they bared their brands and assaulted the horse designing to cut him in pieces when behold, a dust-cloud high in lift upflew and walled the view; and all extended their glances in that direction for an hour of time until it opened and showed some two hundred knights headed by a King mighty of degree and majesty and over his head were flags a-flying. The fifty horsemen, seeing him advance with his troops, drew off and stood still to look and see whom he might be, and when the horse sighted these banners he sniffed with nostrils opened wide to the air, and made for them at full speed, as if gladdened by the sight, and approached them and returned to them a second time in like guise and at the third time he drew up hard beside them and nearing the King fell to rubbing his cheeks upon the stirrups whilst the ruler put forth his hand and gentled the steed by smoothing his head and forehead. As soon as the fifty riders saw this, they marvelled thereat, but the King’s son who had kept his ground was astounded and said to himself, “The horse fled me and when this host drew nigh he sought me again.”545 Presently the Prince fixed his glance upon the latest comers and behold, the King was his father, so he sprang to him and when the sire saw him he knew his son and footed it and the twain embraced and fell fainting to the ground for awhile. When they recovered the suite of the Sultan came forward and salam’d to the Prince who presently asked his sire, “What may be the cause of thy coming to this plain?” and the ruler informed him by way of answer that after his child’s departure slumber to him brought no rest nor was there in food aught of zest and with him longing overflowed for the sake of his son, so that after a while of time he and the grandees of his realm had marched forth, and he ended by saying, “O my son, our leaving home was for the sake of thee, but do thou tell me what befel thee after mounting the Father of a Pigeon, and what was the cause of thy coming to this spot.” Accordingly the Prince told all that had betided him, first and last, of his durance vile amongst the Jews and how he had devised the killing of the Captain and the capture of the craft; and how the steed, after being lost in the waste,546 had returned to him in this place; also of the fifty riders who encountered him on landing and would fain have seized him but failed and of the death of the horseman who was slain by the horse. Hereat they pitched the pavilions upon that spot and set up a throne for the King who after taking seat thereon placed his son by his side and bade summon the fifty riders who were brought into the presence — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that when the Sultan took seat upon the throne and set his son by his side he summoned the fifty riders, who were brought into the presence and placed between his hands. Then he questioned them of their case and their country and the cause of their coming to that stead and they notified to him their native land and their Sovran and the reason of their wandering; to wit, their headlong pursuit of the stallion which had lasted for a term of ten days. Now when the Sultan understood their words and knew and was certified concerning their King and their country, he robed them with honourable robes547 and said to them, “Walláhi! had I known that the stallion would have submitted to you and would have obeyed you I should have delivered him up to you, but I feared for any that durst approach him, barring his master. Now, however, do ye depart and salam to your Sovran and say him, ‘By Allah, if the stallion thou sawest wandering the waste befitted the use of thee I had sent him in free gift.’” With this fair message the men farewelled him and fared from him and they ceased not faring until they returned to their liege lord and reported to him all that had betided them; that is, how the owner of the stallion had appeared and proved to be a King who (they added) “hath sent his salam to thee saying it was his desire to despatch the horse but none availed to manage him save himself and his son.” And when the Ruler heard these words, he returned thanks to the Sovran for the grace of his goodness, and returned forthright to his own land. Meanwhile the Sultan who was owner of the stallion presented the captured ship to those who had captured her, and taking his son turned towards his capital, and they marched without stay or delay until they reached it. Hereupon the Chamberlains and the Nabobs and the high Officers and the townsfolk came forth to meet and greet their Ruler and rejoiced in his safety and that of his son, and they adorned the city for three days and all were in high mirth and merriment until what time the Sultan had settled down at home. Such was his case; but as regards the Khwajah and his daughter, when they had let load their loads they quitted the cavern and set forth, making for their country and patrial stead, and they ceased not forcing their marches for a term of ten days. But on the eleventh they encountered fiery heat beginning from mid-forenoon; and, as the place was grassy ground and overgrown with greenery, they alighted from their beasts and bade pitch two pavilions, one for the daughter and the other for her father and his folk, that it might shade them and shelter them from the excessive sultriness. Now when it was mid-afternoon behold, the damsel was seized with the birth-pains and the pangs of child-bearing, but Allah Almighty made delivery right easy to her and presently she became the mother of a man-child — Glory be to God who fashioned him and perfected what He had fashioned in the creation of that babe!548 So his mother cut his navel-string and, rolling it up in one of her shifts, kept careful guard over it.549 And presently her father entered to look upon her, and finding that she had been delivered was grieved with exceeding grief and the world was straitened before his face, and unknowing what to do he said to himself, “Had we reached our homes and that babe appeared with the damsel, our honour had been smirched and men had blamed us saying, ‘The Khwajah’s daughter hath brought forth in sin.’ So we cannot confront the world, and if we bear with us this infant they will ask where is its father!” He remained perplext and distraught, seeing no way of action, and now he would say, “Let us slay the child,” and anon, “Let us hide it;” and the while he was in that place his nature bespake him with such promptings. But when morning came he had determined upon abandoning the new-born and not carrying it further, so quoth he to his daughter, “Hearken unto whatso I shall say thee.” Quoth she, “’Tis well!” and he continued, “If we travel with this infant the tidings of us will spread through the city and men will say, ‘The Khwajah’s daughter hath been debauched and hath borne a babe in bastardy’; and our right way (according to me) is that we leave it in this tent under charge of the Lord and whoso shall come up to the little one shall take it with the tent; moreover I will place under its head two hundred dinars and any whose lot it is shall carry off the whole.” When the damsel heard these words she found the matter grievous, but she could return no reply. “What sayest thou?” asked he, and she answered, “Whatso is right that do thou.” Hereupon he took a purse550 of two hundred gold pieces which he set under the child’s head and left it in the tent. Then he loaded his loads and fared forth, he and his daughter and his pages, and they ceased not pushing their marches until they reached their own land and native country and entered their home, where they were met by sundry of their familiars coming forth to greet them. They settled down in their quarters when the damsel forgathered with her mother who threw her arms round her neck for exceeding affection to her and asked her of her news; so she informed her concerning the matter of the cavern and what was therein and how great was its distance, but she told her naught of what had befallen her nor of her pregnancy by the Prince nor of the babe she had abandoned. The mother still supposed that she was a clean maid, yet she noted the change in her state and complexion. Then the damsel sought privacy in one of the chambers and wept until her gall-bladder was like to burst and said to herself, “Would Heaven I knew whether Allah will re-unite me with the child and its father the Prince!” and in this condition she remained for a while of time. On such wise it befel the Merchant and his daughter; but as regards the son of the Sultan, when he had settled down in the city of his sire he remembered the Khwajah’s daughter, and quoth he to his father, “O my papa, my desire is to hunting and birding and diversion.” Quoth the King, the better that Destiny might be fulfilled, “’Tis well, O my son, but take with thee a suite.” “I desire no more than five men in all,” said the other, and gat himself ready for travel and, having farewelled his father, set forth from the city — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
547 In Abyssinia the “Khil’at” = robe of honour (see vol. i. 195) is an extensive affair composed of a dress of lion’s pelt with silver-gilt buttons, a pair of silken breeches, a cap and waist-shawl of the same material, a sword, a shield and two spears; a horse with furniture of silk and silver and a mule similarly equipped. These gifts accompany the insignia of the “Order of Solomon,” which are various medals bearing an imperial crown, said to represent the Hierosolymitan Temple of the Wise King, and the reverses show the Amharic legend “Yohanne Negus zei Etiopia”— John, Emperor of Ethiopia. The orders are distinguished as (1) the Grand Cross, a star of 100 grammes in massive gold, hammer-wrought, and studded with gems, given only to royalties; (2) the Knighthood, similar, but of 50 grammes, and without jewels, intended for distinguished foreigners; (3) the Officer’s Star, silver-gilt, of 50 grammes; and (4) the Companion’s, of pure silver, and the same weight. All are worn round the neck save the last, which hangs upon the chest. This practice of gilding the metals prevails also in Europe, for instance in Austria, where those made of gunmetal are often gilt by the recipients contrary to all official etiquette.
548 Meaning only that the babe was perfectly beautiful.
549 In order that the cord might not be subject to the evil eye or fall into the hand of a foe who would use it magically to injure the babe. The navel-string has few superstitions in England. The lower classes mostly place over the wound a bit of cloth wherein a hole has been burned, supposing that the carbon will heal the cut, and make it fast to the babe by a “binder” or swathe round the body, as a preventative to “pot-belly.” But throughout the East there are more observances. In India, on the birth of the babe, the midwife demands something shining, as a rupee or piece of silver, and having touched the navel-string therewith she divides it and appropriates the glittering substance, under the pretence that the absence of the illuminating power of some such sparkling object would prevent her seeing to operate. The knife with which the umbilical cord has been cut is not used for common purposes but is left beside the puerpera until the “Chilla” (fortieth day), when “Kajjal” (lamp-black), used by way of Kohl, is collected on it and applied to the child’s eyelids. Whenever the babe is bathed or taken out of the house the knife must be carried along with it; and when they are brought in again the instrument is deposited in its former place near the mother. Lastly, on the “Chilla”-day they must slaughter with the same blade a cock or a sheep (Herklots, chapt. i. sec. 3). Equally quaint is the treatment of the navel-string in Egypt; but Lane (M.E.) is too modest to give details.
550 In text “Sarsarah,” a clerical error for “Akhaza(?) surratan.” See MS. vol. vi. p. 197, line 9. [I read “sarra Surrah (Surratan)” = he tied up a purse. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Prince went forth from his father with a train of five attendants and made for the wilderness, and he conjoined the journeys of night and day; withal he knew not whither he was going, and he chanced travel over the same wilds and wolds and dales and stony leas. But as regards the Merchant and his daughter, he went in to her one day of the days and found her weeping and wailing, so he said to her, “What causeth thee to shed tears, O my child?” and said she, “How shall I not weep? indeed I must wail over my lot, and over the promise wherewith Allah promised me.” Hereupon he exclaimed, “O my daughter, be silent and Inshallah — God willing — I will equip me for travel and will fare to the son of the King; and look to it, for haply Allah Almighty our Lord may direct me to a somewhat shall conduct me to the Prince’s city.” So saying he bade his handmaidens and eunuchs make ready forthright a viaticum sufficing for a full-told year himself and his following of pages and eunuchs, and they did his bidding. After a few days they prepared all he had required and he purposed to set out; then, he loaded his loads and, farewelling his wife and daughter, went forth seeking the city of the King’s son. He ceased not travelling for a space of three months, when he found a meadow wide of sides on the margin of a sweet-water lake, so he said to his slaves, “Alight we here in this very place that we may take our rest.” Accordingly, they dismounted and pitched a tent and furnisht it for him, and he passed that night by the water-side, and all enjoyed their repose. But as soon as morn ’gan show and shone with sheeny glow, and the sun arose o’er the lands lying low, the Khwajah designed to order a march for his slaves when suddenly espying a dust-cloud towering in rear of them, they waited to see what it might be, and after some two hours of the day it cleared off and disclosed beneath it six riders and with them a bât-beast carrying a load of provisions. These drew near the meadow where the Khwajah sat looking at them, and fear hereat entered into his heart, and trembling fell upon his limbs551 until he was assured that they were but six men. So his mind was calmed. But when the party drew near him he fixed his glance and made certain that the men were headed by the King’s son whom he had met on his first journey, and he marvelled indeed at the youth making for the same place, and he strove to guess the cause of his coming with only five followers and no more. Then he arose and accosted him and salam’d and sat down in converse with him, being assured the while that it was the same who had had doings with his daughter, and that the child which she had borne in the tent and which they abandoned was the son of this Prince, while the youth knew not that the Khwajah was father to the damsel with whom he had tarried in the cavern. So they fell to communing together for a while until the Prince asked the Trader, “What is the cause of thy coming hither?” and answered the other, “I have come seeking thee and thy country, for I have a want which thou must fulfil me;” presently adding, “And thou, whither art thou intending? Quoth the King’s son, “I am making for the cavern wherein the handmaidens showed me much honour, for indeed I gave my word that I would return to them after I had revisited my country and had met my folk and my friends; and here I am coming back to keep what plight and promise were between us.” Hereupon the Merchant arose, and taking the Prince, retired with him to a place of privacy where none could wot of them twain save Allah Almighty. “Would Heaven I knew what may be in the thoughts of this Khwájah!” said the Prince in his mind; but when both had seated themselves at ease, the Merchant addressed the King’s son in these words, “O my son, all things are foredoomed in the World of Secrets, and from fated lot is no flight. Now the end and aim whereto thou designest in the cavern, verily they552 left it for their own land.” When the King’s son heard these words informing him that his beloved had quitted her abode, he cried out with a loud outcry for stress of what had betided him, and fell a-swoon by cause that love of the damsel had mastered his heart and his vitals hung to her. After a while he recovered and asked the Khwajah, “Say me, be these words of thine soothfast or false?” “Soothfast indeed,” answered the father, “but, O my child, be of good cheer and eyes clear, for that thy wish is won”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
551 In the text “on account of the dust-cloud” which, we were just told, had cleared away [The translator seems to have overlooked the “kána” before “kad dákhala-hu al-Ra’b,” which gives to the verb the force of a pluperfect: “and fear had entered into him at the sight of the dust-cloud.”— ST.]
552 i.e. his daughter, of whom he afterwards speaks in the plur.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the Khwajah to the King’s son after he had revived, “O my child, be of good cheer and eyes clear for that thy want is won and for thee the way hath been short done and if thy heart be firm-fixed upon thy beloved the heart of her is still firmer than thine and I am a messenger from her who seek thee that I may unite you twain Inshallah — an Allah please.” Asked the Prince, “And who mayest thou be to her, O my lord?” and answered the other, “I am her father and she is my daughter and hers is a marvel-tale, I swear by the All-might of Him who made the Heavens and the Earth.” Then he fell to recounting anent the Voice which came to him on the night of her being conceived in her mother’s womb and all that had since befallen her, keeping concealed553 only the matter of the babe which she had borne in the tent. But when the Prince knew that the wayfarer was her sire who was travelling to seek him, he rejoiced in the glad tidings of forgathering with the damsel and on the morning of the second day all marched off together and made for the Merchant’s city. And they stinted not wayfaring and forcing their marches until they drew near it, and as soon as they entered it, the Merchant, before going to his home, led the Prince with him and sought the Kazi by whose aid the marriage-tie, after due settlement of the dowry, might be tied between him and the damsel. This done, he conducted him to a place of concealment and presently went in to his daughter and her mother who saluted him and asked him the news. Hereupon he gave them to know that he had brought the King’s son and had made ready to knot the knot of wedlock between him and her. As soon as the damsel heard these tidings she fainted for excess of her happiness, and when she revived her mother arose and prepared her person and adorned her and made her don her most sumptuous of dresses. And when night fell they led the bridegroom in procession to her and the couple embraced and each threw arms round the neck of other for exceeding desire and their embraces lasted till dawn-tide.554 After that the times waxed clear to them and the days were serene until one chance night of the nights when the Prince was sitting beside his bride and conversing with her concerning various matters when suddenly she fell to weeping and wailing. He was consterned thereat and cried, “What causeth thee cry, O dearling of my heart and light of mine eyes?” and she, “How shall I not cry when they have parted me from my boy, the life-blood of my liver!” “And thou, hast thou a babe?” asked he and she answered, “Yes indeed, my child and thy child, whom I conceived by thee while we abode in the cavern. But when my father555 took me therefrom and was leading me home we encountered about midway a burning heat, so we halted and pitched two tents for myself and my sire; then, as I sat within mine the labour-pangs came upon me and I bare a babe as the moon. But my parent feared to carry it with us lest our honour be smirched by tittle-tattle, so we left the little one in the tent with two hundred gold pieces under its head, that whoso might come upon it and take it and tend it might therewith be repaid.” In fine, she told her spouse the whole tale concerning her infant and declared that she had no longer patience to be parted from it. Her bridegroom consoled her and promised her with the fairest promises that he would certainly set out and travel and make search for the lost one amongst the lands, even though his absence might endure through a whole year in the wilderness. And lastly he said to her, “We will ask news and seek tidings of him from all the wayfarers who wend by that same valley, and certify ourselves of the information, nor will we return to thee save with assured knowledge; for this child is the fruit of my loins and I will never neglect him; no, never. Needs must I set forth and fare to those parts and search for my son.” Such was their case; but as regards the babe which had been abandoned (as we have noticed), he lay alone for the first day and yet another when a caravan appeared passing along that same road; and, as soon as they sighted the pavilion yet they saw none within, they drew near to it and behold, they found a babe lying prostrate with his fingers in his mouth and sucking thereat556 and he was even as a slice of the moon. So they approached him and took him up and found under his head the purse, whereupon they carried him, not forgetting the gold, and showed him to the Shaykh of the Cafilah557 who cried, “Walláhi, our way is a blessed for that we have discovered this child; and, inasmuch as I have no offspring, I will take him and tend him and adopt him to son.” Now this caravan was from the land of Al-Yaman and they had halted on that spot for a night’s rest, so when it was morning they loaded and left it and fared forwards and they ceased not wayfaring until they reached their homes safe and sound. After returning all the Cafilah folk dispersed, each to his own stead, but the Shaykh, who was employed by government under the King of Al-Yaman, repaired to his own house accompanied by the child which he had carefully tended and salam’d to his wife. As soon as she saw the babe she marvelled at his fashion and, sending for a wet-nurse, committed him for suckling to her and set apart for her a place; and the woman fell to tending him and cleaning him, and the house prospered for the master and dame had charge of it558 during the days of suckling. And when the boy was weaned they fed him fairly559 and took sedulous charge of him, so he became accustomed to bespeak the man with, “O my papa,” and the woman with, “O my mamma,” believing the twain to be truly his parents. This endured for some seven years when they brought him a Divine to teach him at home, fearing lest he should fare forth the house; nor would they at any time send him to school. So the tutor560 took him in hand and taught him polite letters and he became a reader and a writer and well versed in all knowledge before he reached his tenth year. Then his adopted father appointed for him a horse that he might learn cavalarice and the shooting of shafts and firing of bullets at the butt,561 and then brought for him a complete rider that he might teach him all his art and when he came to the age of fourteen he became a doughty knight and a prow. Now one chance day of the days the youth purposed going to the wild that he might hunt — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
553 These concealments are inevitable in ancient tale and modern novel, and it need hardly be said that upon the nice conduct of them depends all the interest of the work. How careful the second-rate author is to spoil his plot by giving a needless “pregustation” of his purpose, I need hardly say.
554 The mysteries of the marriage-night are touched with a light hand because the bride had already lost her virginity.
555 In text “Abúyah,” a Fellah vulgarism for Abí which latter form occurs a few lines lower down.
556 In text “Wa-Sawábi ’hu (Asábi ’a-hu?) fí hanaki-h:” this is explained in MS. p. 216: “Bi-yarza’u fí Asábí hi.” [Dozy, Suppl. i. 815, gives “Sawábi’” as an irregular pl. of “Asba’” quoting from Bresl. ed. iii. 381, 9.] I would rather say it is a regularly formed broken plural of a singular “Sábi’” = the pointing one, i.e. index, now commonly called “Sabbábah” the reviler, where the same idea of pointing at with contempt seems to prevail, and “Sháhid” = the witnessing, because it is raised in giving testimony. In the plural it would be naturally generalised to “finger,” and in point of fact, the sing. “Sábi’” is used nowadays in this sense in Egypt along with the other popular form of “Subá’.”
557 I write “Cafilah” and not “Cafila” with the unjustifiable suppression of the final “h” which is always made sensible in the pure pronunciation of the Badawi. The malpractice has found favour chiefly through the advocacy of Dr. Redhouse, an eminent Turkish scholar whose judgments must be received with great caution; and I would quote on this subject the admirable remarks of my late lamented friend Dr. G. P. Badger in “The Academy” of July 2, 1887. “Another noticeable default in the same category is that, like Sale, Mr. Wherry frequently omits the terminal ‘h’ in his transliteration of Arabic. Thus he writes Sura, Amína, Fátima, Madína, Taháma; yet, inconsistently enough, he gives the ‘h’ in Allah, Khadijah, Kaabah, Makkah, and many other words. This point deserves special notice, owing to Dr. Redhouse’s letter, published in ‘The Academy’ of November 22 last, in which he denounces as ‘a very common European error’ the addition of the ‘h’ or ‘final aspirate,’ in the English transliteration of many Arabic words. Hence, as I read the eminent Orientalist’s criticism, when that aspirate is not sounded in pronunciation he omits it, writing “F&amacron;tima,” not Fatimah, lest, as I presume, the unwary reader may aspirate the ‘h.’ But in our Bibles we find such names as Sarah, Hannah, Judah, Beulah, Moriah, Jehovah, in the enunciation of which no one thinks of sounding the last letter as an aspirate. I quite agree with Dr. Redhouse that in the construct case the final h assumes the sound of t, as in Fatimatu bint-Muhammed; yet that does not strike me as a valid reason for eliding the final h, which among other uses, is indicative of the feminine gender, as in Fâtimah, Khadîjah, Amînah, etc.; also of the nomina vicis, of many abstract nouns, nouns of multitude and of quality, as well as of adjectives of intensiveness, all which important indications would be lost by dropping the final h. And further unless the vowel a, left after the elision of that letter, be furnished with some etymological mark of distinction, there would be great risk of its being confounded with the â, formative of the singular of many verbal nouns, such as binâ, safâ, jalâ; with the masculine plurals ending in the same letters, such as hukamâ, ághniyâ, kúfarâ; and with the feminine plurals of many adjectives, such as kúbra, súghra, húsna, etc. Dr. Redhouse says that ‘many eminent Arabists avoid such errors’— a remark which rather surprises me, since Pocock, Lane and Palmer, and Fresnel and Perron among French Orientalists, as also Burton, all retain the final aspirate h, the latter taking special care to distinguish, by some adequate, diacritical sign, those substantive and adjective forms with which words ending in the final aspirate h might otherwise be confounded.”
558 In the text, “Wa sába’l-dár wa Zaujatu-hu mutawassíyín bi-há.” [I cannot explain to myself the plural “Mutawassín” unless by supposing that the preceding “Sáb al-Dár” is another blunder of the scribe for “Sáhibu ’l-Dár” when the meaning would be: “and the master of the house and his wife took charge of her (the nurse) during the days of suckling.” — ST.]
559 In text “Sárú yaráshú-hu wa yatawassu.”
560 [In the text “Fikí” the popular form of the present day “Fikíh,” properly “learned in the law” (LL.D. as we would say), but now the usual term for “school-master.”— ST.]
561 Both of which are practised by Easterns from horseback, the animal going at fullest speed. With the English saddle and its narrow stirrup-irons we can hardly prove ourselves even moderately good shots after Parthian fashion.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth proposed going forth to the wild that he might hunt, but his guardians feared for him so that he availed not to fare forth. Grievous to him was it that he could not obtain his liberty to set out a-chasing, and there befel him much concern562 and a burning thirst; so he lay him down sore sick and troubled. Hereupon his father and mother went in to him and, finding that he had taken to his pillow, they mourned over him, and fearing lest he be afflicted by some disease they asked him, “What is to do with thee and what calamity hath befallen thee?” Answered he, “There is no help but that I go forth a-hunting in the wilderness.” Quoth they, “O our son, we fear for thee,” and quoth he, “Fear not, for that all things be foredoomed from Eternity and, if aught be written for me, ’twill come to pass even although I were beside you; and the bye-word saith, ‘Profiteth not Prudence against Predestination.’” Hereat they gave him permission, and upon the second day he rode forth to the chase, but the wold and the wilds swallowed him up, and when he would have returned he knew not the road, so he said to himself, “Folk declare that affects are affected and footsteps are sped to a life that is vile and divided daily bread.563 If aught be written to me fain must I fulfil it.” And whenever he hunted down a gazelle, he cut its throat and broiled the meat over a fire and nourished himself for a while of days and nights; but he was lost in those wastes until he drew in sight of a city. This he entered, but he had no money for food or for foraging his horse, so he sold it willy-nilly and, hiring a room in a Wakálah, lived by expending its price till the money was spent. Then he cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! The wise man doth even as the fool, but All-might is to Allah.” So he went forth to solace himself in the highways of the city, looking rightwards and leftwards, until he came to the gateway of the King’s Palace, and when he glanced around he saw written over it, “Dive not into the depths unless thou greed for thyself and thy wants.”564 So he said in his mind, “What is the meaning of these words I see here inscribed?” Presently he repaired for aid to a man in a shop and salam’d to him, and when his salutation was returned enquired of him, “O my lord, what is the meaning of this writ which is written over the Sultan’s gateway?” The other replied, “O my son, whereof dost thou ask? Verily the Sultan and all the Lords of his land are in sore cark and care for the affair of his daughter, the Princess.” The youth rejoined, “What is the matter with her and what hath befallen her?” and the man retorted, “O my son, verily the Sultan hath a daughter so fair that she seemeth cast in the very mould of beauty and none in her day can excel her, but whoso is betrothed to her and marrieth her and goeth in unto her the dawn never cometh without his becoming a heap of poison, and no one wotteth the business what it may be.” Hearing these words the youth said to himself, “By Allah, the death of me were better than this the life of me, but I have no dower to offer her.” Then he asked the man, “O my uncle, whoso lacketh money and wisheth to marry her, how shall he act?” “O my son,” answered the other, “verily the Sultan demandeth nothing; nay, he expendeth of his own wealth upon her.” The youth arose from beside the man at that moment and, going in to the King, found him seated on his throne; so he salam’d to him and prayed for him and deprecated and kissed ground before him, and when the King returned his salutation and welcomed him he cried, “O King of the Age, ’tis my intent and design to be connected with thee through the lady safe-guarded, thy daughter.” “By Allah, O Youth,” said the Sultan, “I consent not for thine own sake that thou wed her by cause that thou wilt be going wilfully to thy death;” and hereupon he related to him all that befel each and every who had married her and had gone in unto her. Quoth the youth, “O King of the Age, indeed I rely upon the Lord, and if I die I shall fare to Allah and His ruth and, if I live, ’tis well, for that all things are from the Almighty.” Quoth the Sultan, “O Youth, counsel appertaineth to Allah, for thou art her equal in beauty;” and the other rejoined, “All things are by Fate and man’s lot.” Hereupon the King summoned the Kazi and bade tie the marriage-tie between the youth and his daughter; then he went in to his Harem and apprised thereof her mother that she might prepare the girl’s person for the coming night. But the youth departed from the Sultan’s presence perplext of heart and distraught, unknowing what to do; and, as he walked about, suddenly he met a man in years, clean of raiment and with signs of probity evident; so he accosted him and said, “O my lord, ask a blessing for me.” Said the Shaykh, “O my son, may our Lord suffice thee against all would work thee woe and may He ever forefend thee from thy foe.”565 And the youth was gladdened by the good omen of the Shaykh’s words. But when the Sultan had sought his Harem he said, “By Allah, he who hath wedded the damsel is a beautiful youth: oh the pity of it that he should die! Indeed I dissuaded him, saying so-and-so shall befal thee, but I could not deter him. Now by the rights of Him who raised the firmament without basement, an our Lord deign preserve this Youth and he see the morn in safety, I will assuredly gift him and share with him all my good, for that I have no male issue to succeed me in the sovranty; and this one, if Allah Almighty vouchsafe prolong his days, shall become my heir apparent and inherit after me. Indeed I deem him to be a son of the Kings who disguiseth himself, or some Youth of high degree who is troubled about worldly goods and who sayeth in himself, ‘I will take this damsel to wife that I may not die of want, for verily I am ruined.’ I diverted him from wedding her, but it could not be, and the more I deterred him with words manifold only the more grew his desire and he cried, ‘I am content’; thus speaking after the fashion of one who longeth to perish. However, let him meet his lot — either death-doom or deliverance from evil.” Now when it was eventide the Sultan sent to summon his son-in-law and, seating him beside the throne, fell to talking with him and asking after his case; but he concealed his condition and said, “Thy servant is such whereof ’tis spoken, ‘I fell from Heaven and was received by Earth.’ Ask me not, O King of the Age, or of the root or of the branch, for one of the wise and ware hath said:—
‘To tell my root and my name refrain;
The root of the youth is what good he gain:566
A wight without father full oft shall win
And melting shall purify drossy strain.’
And folk are equal but in different degrees.”567 Now when the Sultan heard these words, he wondered at his eloquence and sweetness of speech; withal he marvelled that his son-in-law would not explain to him from what land or from what folk he came. And the two ceased not their converse until after the hour of night prayers, when the Lords of the land had been dismissed; whereupon the Sultan bade an eunuch take the youth and introduce him to the Princess. So he arose from him and went with the slave, the King exclaiming the while, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might, save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great: verily yonder young man wendeth wilfully to his death.” Now when the bridegroom reached the apartment of the Sultan’s daughter and entered to her — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
562 In text “Ihtimám wa Ghullah”: I suspect that the former should be written with the major h, meaning fever.
563 See Suppl. vol. iv. p. 191.
564 i.e. tempt not Providence unless compelled so to do by necessity.
565 The youth was taking a “Fál” or omen: see vol. v. 136.
566 In text “Hasal,” for which I would read “Khasal.”
567 A wiser Sprichwort than those of France and America. It compares advantageously with the second par. of the Declaration of Independence (July 4, 1776) by the Representatives of the U.S., which declares, “these truths to be self-evident:— that all men are created equal,” etc. It is regretable that so trenchant a state-paper should begin with so gross and palpable a fallacy. Men are not born equal, nor do they become equal before their death-days even in condition, except by artificial levelling; and in republics and limited monarchies, where all are politically equal, the greatest social inequalities ever prevail. Still falser is the shibboleth-crow of the French cock, ”Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité,” which has borrowed its plumage from the American Bird o’ Freedom. And Douglas Jerrold neatly expressed the truth when he said — ”We all row in the same boat but not with the same sculls.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the youth, when entering to the Sultan’s daughter, exclaimed “Bismillah — in the name of Allah — I place my trust upon Allah, and I have committed mine affair unto Allah!” Then he went forwards and found his bride seated upon her bedstead, and she was as a Hoard newly loosed from its Talisman; while she on her part rose and met him, and looked upon him and considered him until she was certified of his being cast in beauty’s mould, nor had she ever seen any like unto him. So she wept till the tears trickled adown her cheeks and she said to herself, “Oh the pity of it! Never shall my joy be fulfilled with this beautiful youth, than whom mine eyes never fell upon one fairer.” Quoth he, “What causeth thee cry, O my lady?” and quoth she, “I cry for the loss of my joys with thee seeing that thou art to perish this very night; and I sue of the Almighty and supplicate Him that my life may be thy ransom, for by Allah ’tis a pity!” When he heard these words he presently looked around and suddenly he sighted a magical Sword568 hanging by the belt against the wall: so he arose and hent it and threw it across his shoulders; then, returning he took seat upon the couch beside the Sultan’s daughter, withal his heart and his tongue never neglected to recite the Names of Allah or to sue aidance from the Prince of the Hallows569 who alone can reconcile with the Almighty fiat the fates and affairs of God’s servants. This lasted for an hour until the first third of the night, when suddenly were heard the bellowings as of wind and rumblings of thunder, and the bride, perceiving all the portents which had occurred to others, increased in weeping and wailing. Then lo and behold! a wall amiddlemost the chamber clave asunder, and there issued forth the cleft a Basilisk570 resembling a log of palm-tree, and he was blowing like the storm-blast and his eyes were as cressets and he came on wriggling and waving. But when the youth saw the monster he sprang up forthright with stout heart that knew naught of startling or affright, and cried out, “Protect me, O Chief and Lode-star of the Hallows, for I have thrown myself upon thine honour and am under thy safe-guard.” So saying and setting hand on brand he advanced and confronted the portent swiftlier than an eye-glance, raising his elbow till the blackness of the armpit appeared; and he cried out with a loud outcry whereto the whole city re-echoed, and which was audible even to the Sultan. Then he smote the monster upon his neck571 and caused head to fly from body for a measure of some two spans. Hereupon the Basilisk fell dead, but the youth was seized by a fainting-fit for the mighty stress of his stroke, and the bride arose for the excess of her joy and threw herself upon him and swooned away for a full-told hour. When the couple recovered, the Princess fell to kissing his hands and feet and wiping with her kerchief the sweat from his brow and saying to him, “O my lord, and the light of mine eyes, may none thy hand ever foreslow nor exult over thee any foe,” till he had recovered his right senses and had regained his strength. Anon he arose, and taking the Basilisk set it upon a large tray;572 then, letting bring a skinful of water he cleaned away the blood. After this the youth and the King’s daughter sat down and gave each other joy of their safety and straightway disappeared from them all traces of distress. Presently the Bridegroom looked at his Bride and found her like a pearl, so he caused her to laugh and disported with her and excited her and she did on like wise and at last he threw her upon her back and did away her maidenhead, whenas their gladness grew and their pleasures were perfected and their joyance was enhanced by the monster’s death. They ceased not, the twain of them, toying and enjoying themselves until it was well nigh dawn and sleep overcame them and they slumbered. But the Sultan during that night could relish nor lying down nor sitting up, and as soon as he heard the shout he cried, “The Youth is indeed dead and this world hath fled! There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great.” About morning-tide he prepared for him a shroud and mortuary perfumes, and all things required, and despatched a party to dig a tomb for him who had been slain by the side of his daughter, and he let make an iron bier, after which he sent for the washers of the dead and summoned them to his presence and lastly he awaited for his wife to seek her daughter and bring him the tidings — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
568 Sayf Kunúzí = a talismanic scymitar: see “Kanz,” ix. 320.
569 In Arab. “Al-Kutb al-Ghauth” = lit. the pole-star of invocation for help; or simply “Al-Ghauth” is the highest degree of sanctity in the mystic fraternity of Tasawwuf. See v. 384; and Lane (A. N.) i. 232. Students who would understand these titles will consult vol. iii. chapt. 12 of The Dabistán by Shaw and Troyer, Paris and London, 1843. By the learned studies of Dr. Pertsch the authorship of this work of the religious eclecticism of Akbar’s reign, has been taken from the wrongful claimant and definitively assigned to the legitimate owner, Mobed Shah. (See Z. d. M. G. xvi. 224.) It is regretable that the index of the translation is worthless as its contents are valuable.
570 Arab. “Su’ubán” = cockatrice, etc., vols. i. 172; vii. 322. Ibn Khaldun (vol. iii. 350) tells us that it was the title of a famous and fatal necklace of rubies.
571 In Ar. “Anakati-h.” [This is a very plausible conjecture of the translator for the word written in the text: “’Anfakati-h” = the hair between the lower lips and the chin, and then used for the chin itself. — ST.]
572 In the text “Tisht” (a basin for the ewer), which I have translated tray: these articles are often six feet in diameter.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Sultan sat until morning-tide expecting his wife to bring him tidings of the youth that he might take him and bury him. But the Queen-mother repaired to her daughter’s apartment where she found the door locked and bolted upon the couple; so she knocked for them whilst her eyes were tear-stained and she was wailing over the loss of her daughter’s love-liesse. Hereat the Princess awoke and she arose and opened the door when behold, she found her mother weeping so she asked her, “What caused thee shed tears, O Mother mine, whilst my enjoyment hath been the completest?” Asked she, “And what hath joyed you?” So the daughter led her to the middlemost of the apartment where she found the Basilisk (which was like the section of a palm-trunk) lying dead upon a huge tray and she saw her son-in-law sleeping upon the bedstead573 and he was like a fragment of the moon on the fourteenth night. The mother bowed head towards him and kissed him upon the brow saying, “Verily and indeed thou deservest safety!” Then she went forth from him lullilooing aloud and bade all the handmaids raise the cry of joy574 and the Palace was turned topsy-turvy with gladness and delight. When the Sultan heard this he arose and asked “What may be the news? Are we in grief or in gladness;” and so saying he went forth when suddenly he was met by his wife in the highest delight who took him and led him to the apartment of her daughter. There he also espied the Basilisk stretched dead upon the tray and the youth his son-in-law lying asleep upon the bedstead, whereat from the stress of his joyance he fell to the floor in a fainting-fit which lasted an hour or so. But when he revived he cried, “Is this wake or rather is’t sleep?” after which he arose and bade the musicians of his band beat the kettledrums and blow the shawms and the trumps and he commanded adorn the city; and the citizens did all his bidding. The decorations remained during seven days in honour of the safety of the Sultan’s son-in-law, and increased were their joys and fell from them all annoys, and the Sultan took to distributing and giving alms and largessing and making presents to the Fakirs and the miserable and he robed his nobles with honourable robes and fed the captives and the prisoners one and all;575 and the naked he clothed, and those anhungered he feasted in honour of his daughter. Then said the Sultan, “By Allah, this youth deserveth naught save that I make him my partner and share with him my good, for he hath banished from us our dule and our dolours and eke on account of himself and his own sake.” After this he made over to him half of his realm and his riches and the Sultan would rule one day and his son-in-law the other and their joys endured for the space of a full-told year. Then the Sovran was seized of a sickness, so he bequeathed to his son-in-law all he had and everything he owned; and but a little time elapsed before his malady increased day by day until he fared to the ruth of Almighty Allah and the youth sat in his stead as Sovran and Sultan. Such was his case; but as regards the matter of his sire, the King’s son of Al-’Irak, when he promised his wife that he would certainly go forth and travel and search for their son, he ceased not wending through the regions for a length of nights and days until Destiny threw him into such-and-such a city; and from the excess of what he had suffered of toil and travail he tarried therein a time. Now the Shaykh of the Caravans (who had found the babe in the tent and had taken him and had tended and adopted him, and from whom the youth when grown to man’s estate had disappeared on the hunting excursion and returned not to his parents) also set out a-seeking him and fell diligently to searching for tidings of him and roaming from place to place. Presently he was cast by doom of Destiny into the same city; and, as he found none to company with, he was suddenly met on one of the highways by the youth’s true father and the twain made acquaintance and became intimate until they nighted and morning’d in the same stead; withal neither knew what was his companion. But one night of the nights the two sat down in talk and the true sire asked the adoptive father, “O my brother, tell us the cause of thy going forth from thy country and of thy coming hither?” Answered his comrade, “By Allah, O my brother, my tale is a wondrous and mine adventure is a marvellous.” Quoth he, “And how?” and quoth the other, “I was Shaykh of the Cafilahs on various trading journeys, and during one of them I passed by a way of the ways where I found a pavilion pitched at a forking of the roads. So I made for it and dismounted my party in that place and I glanced at the tent but we found none therein, whereupon I went forwards and entered it and saw a babe new-born strown upon his back and sucking his fingers.576 So I raised him between my hands and came upon a purse of two hundred dinars set under his head; and I took the gold and carried it off together with the child.” But when his comrade, the true father, heard this tale from him he said to himself, “This matter must have been after such fashion,” and he was certified that the foundling was his son, for that he had heard the history told by the mother of the babe with the same details essential and accidental. So he firmly believed577 in these words and rejoiced thereat, when his comrade continued, “And after that, O my brother, I bore off that babe and having no offspring I gave him to my wife who rejoiced therein and brought him a wet-nurse to suckle him for the usual term. When he had reached his sixth year I hired a Divine to read with him and teach him writing and the art of penmanship;578 and, as soon as he saw ten years, I bought him a horse of the purest blood, whereon he learnt cavalarice and the shooting of shafts and the firing of bullets until he attained his fifteenth year. Presently one day of the days he asked to go a-hunting in the wilderness, but we his parents (for he still held me to be his father and my wife his mother) forbade him in fear of accidents; whereupon he waxed sore sorrowful and we allowed him leave to fare forth.”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
573 A neat touch of realism: the youth is worn out by the genial labours of the night which have made the bride only the merrier and the livelier. It is usually the reverse with the first post-nuptial breakfast: the man eats heartily and the woman can hardly touch solid food. Is this not a fact according to your experience, Mesdames?
574 In text “Tazarghít” a scribal error for “Zaghrítah.” In Mr. Doughty (ii. 621) “Zalághít” for “Zaghárit” and the former is erroneously called a “Syrian word.” The traveller renders it by “Lullul-lullul-lullul-lá.” [Immediately before, however, the correct form “hiya tazaghritu,” she was lulli-looing, had been used. The word occurs in numerous forms, differentiated by the interchange of the dental and palatal “t” and of the liquid letters “r” and “l.” Dozy gives: “Zaghrata,” “Zaghlata” and “Zalghata” for the verb, and “Zaghrítah,” “Zaghrútah” (both with pl. “Zaghárít”), “Zalghútah,” “Zalghatah” (both with pl. “Zalághít”), and even a plural “Zaghálít” for the noun. — ST.]
575 In these cases usually an exception is made of brigands, assassins and criminals condemned for felony. See Ibn Khaldun, iv. 189.
576 [In text: “biyarza’ fí Asábí-hi” (see supra p. 294). This is, as far as I remember, the only instance where in the MS. the aorist is preceded by the preposition “bi,” a construction now so common in the popular dialects. Strange as it may appear at first sight, it has a deep foundation in the grammatical sentiment, if I may say so, of the Arabic language, which always ascribed a more or less nominal character to the aorist. Hence its inflection by Raf’ (u), Nasb (a) and Jazm (absence of final vowel), corresponding to the nominative, accusative and oblique case of the noun. Moreover in the old language itself already another preposition (“li”) was joined to the aorist. The less surprising, therefore, can it be to find that the use of a preposition in connection with it has so largely increased in the modern idiom, where it serves to mark this semi-nominal character of the aorist, which otherwise would be lost in consequence of the loss of the vowel terminations. This interesting subject deserves a fuller development, but I must reserve it for another opportunity — inshá ’lláh! — ST.]
577 [Again “yastanit” = he listened attentively; comp. note p. 24. — ST.]
578 In text “Zarb al-Aklám.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the adoptive father pursued to his comrade, “So we permitted him to hie a-hunting, and he farewelled us and went forth from us and left us, whereat we fell to beweeping him; and inasmuch as until this present he hath not returned to us, I have set out to seek him and here am I in this place searching for traces of him. Peradventure may Allah Almighty deign unite me with him and gar me forgather with him; for, Walláhi! from the hour he went from us sleep hath done us no good nor have we found relish in food.” And when the speech was ended, quoth his comrade, “O my brother, whenas he is not the son of thy loins and he could prove himself perverse to thee, what must be the condition in his regard of the father who begat him and the mother who enwombed him?” He replied, “Theirs must be cark and care and misery beyond even mine;” and the other rejoined, “By Allah, O my brother, verily the relation thou hast related anent this child proveth that he is, by God, my child and of mine own seed, for in sooth his mother gave birth to him in that stead where she left him being unable to carry him with her; but now she beweepeth the loss of him through the nights and the days.” “O my brother,” quoth the adoptive father, “we twain, I and thou, will indeed make public search and open inquiry for him through the lands, and Allah Almighty shall guide us himwards.” When morning came the pair went forth together intending to journey from that city, but by doom of the Decreer the Sultan on that very day set out to visit the gardens; and, when the travellers heard tidings thereof, one said to the other, “Let us stay and solace ourselves with a sight of the royal suite and after we will wend our ways.” Said his comrade, “’Tis well.” So they took their station to await the issuing forth of the Sultan, who suddenly rode out amid his suite as the two stood leaning beside the road and looking at the Sultan, when behold, his glance fell upon the two men. He at once recognised the father who had reared him, and when he gazed at the other standing beside him his heart was opened to the love of him albeit he weeted naught of their tie of blood nor believed that any was his sire save the Shaykh who had adopted him. Accordingly, after considering them he bade carry them both to the House of Hospitality, so they led them thither and did his bidding. Hereupon the twain said to themselves, “Wherefore hath the Sultan made us his guests? Nor he knoweth us nor we know him and needs must this have a cause.” But after leaving them the King rode to the gardens where he tarried the whole day, and when it was sunset he returned to his Palace, and at suppertide commanded the men be brought before him. They salam’d to him and blessed him and he returned their salutations, and bade them take seat at the trays whereat none other was present. They obeyed his order much wondering thereat the while and musing in their minds, “What condition is this?” They ate till they were satisfied, after which the food-trays were removed and they washed their hands and drank coffee and sherbets; then, by command of the King, they sat down to converse when the Sultan addressed them instead of the others, whereat they marvelled self-communing and saying, “What can be the cause?” But as soon as all the attendants had been dismissed to their quarters and no one remained save the Sultan and his guests (three in all and no more), and it was the first third of the night, the King asked them, “Which of you availeth to tell a tale which shall be a joyance to our hearts?” The first to answer him was the true father, who said, “Walláhi, O King of the Age, there befel me an adventure which is one of the wonders of the world, and ’tis this. I am son to a King of the Kings of the earth who was wealthy of money and means, and who had the goods of life beyond measure. He feared for my safety because he had none other save myself, and one day of the days, when I craved leave to go a-hunting in the wilderness, he refused me in his anxiety for my safety.” (Hereat, quoth the Sultan in himself, “By Allah, the story of this man is like my history!”) “So quoth I, ‘O King, unless I fare forth to sport, verily I will slay myself,’ and quoth my sire, ‘O my son, do thou go ride to the chase, but leave us not long for the hearts of us two, I and thy mother, will be engrossed by thee.’ Said I, ‘Hearing and obeying,’ and I went down to the stable to take a steed; and finding a smaller stall wherein was a horse chained to four posts and, on guard beside him, two slaves who could never draw near him, I approached him and fell to smoothing his coat. He remained silent and still whilst I took his furniture and set it upon his back, and girthed his saddle right tight and bridled him and loosed him from the four posts, and during all this he never started not shied at me by reason of the Fate and Fortune writ upon my forehead from the Secret World. Then I got him ready and mounted him and went forth”— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the man who was bespeaking the Sultan pursued to him, “Then I mounted him and rode him over the gravelly ground without the city when behold, he snorted and snarked and shook his crest and started at speed and galloped with me and bolted, swiftly as though he were a bird in the firmament of heaven.” On this wise he fell to recounting all that had befallen in the cave between him and the Merchant’s daughter and what had betided him by decree of Allah; how he had left her for his own land and how had her sire come and carried her away; also in what manner she had been delivered of a son by him on the road and had left her babe-child in the tent hoping that someone might find him and take him and tend him; and, lastly, how he had married the child’s mother and what was the cause of his going forth and his coming to that place that he might seek his son. Hereupon the Sultan turned to his adoptive father whom hitherto he had believed to be his real parent saying, “And thou, the other, dost thou know any tale like that told to us by thy comrade?” So the Shaykh recounted to him the whole history as hath before been set forth from incept to conclusion, nor hid from him aught thereof. Then the Sultan declared himself to his true sire, saying, “Thou art my father and there befel such things and such,” after which said his adoptive parent, “Walláhi, O my son, verily none is thy father save this one from whose loins thou art sprung, for I only found thee in the pavilion and took thee and tended thee in my home. But this is thy very parent in very deed.” Hereat all the three fell upon one another’s necks and kissed one another and the Sultan cried, “Praise to Him who hath united us after disunion!” and the others related to him anent his maternal grandfather how he was a Merchant, and concerning his paternal grandsire how he was a Monarch. Anon each of the two was ordered to revisit his own country and convey his consort and his children; and the twain disappeared for the space of a year and a month and at length returned to the young King. Hereupon he set apart for them palaces and settled them therein and they tarried with him until such time as there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies.
It is related that there was a man who had a grown-up son, but the youth was a ne’er-do-well,580 and whatever wife his sire wedded, the son would devise him a device to lie with her and have his wicked will of her, and he so managed the matter that his father was forced to divorce her. Now the man once married a bride beautiful exceedingly and, charging her beware of his son, jealously guarded her from him. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night, and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be not sleeping, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the father applied himself to safe-guarding his wife and gave her a charge warning her with threats against his son and saying, “Whenas I wed ever a woman, yonder youth by his cunning manageth to have his wicked will of her.” Quoth she, “O Man, what be these words thou speakest? This thy son is a dog, nor hath he power to do with me aught, and I am a lady amongst women.” Quoth he, “Indeed I but charge thee to have a care of thyself.581 Haply I may hie me forth to wayfare and he will lay some deep plot for thee and work with thee as he wrought with others.” She replied, “O Man, hold thyself secure therefrom for an he bespeak me with a single word I will slipper him with my papoosh;582 and her rejoined, “May safety be thine!” He cohabited with her for a month till one day of the days when he was compelled to travel; so he went in to his wife and cautioned her and was earnest with her saying, “Have a guard of thyself from my son the debauchee for ’tis a froward fellow, a thief, a miserable, lest he come over thee with some wile and have his will of thee.” Said she, “What words are these? Thy son is a dog nor hath he any power over me in aught whereof thou talkest, and if he bespeak me with one injurious word, I will slipper him soundly with my foot-gear.”583 He rejoined, “If thou happen to need aught584 never even mention it to him;” and she, “Hearkening and obedience.” So he farewelled her and fared forth wholly intent upon his wayfare. Now when he was far enough from the town the youth came to the grass-widow but would not address a single word to her, albeit fire was lighted in his heart by reason of her being so beautiful. Accordingly he contrived a wile. It happened to be summer-tide so he went585 to the house and repaired to the terrace-roof, and there he raised his clothes from his sitting-place and exposed his backside stark naked to the cooling breeze; then he leant forwards propped on either elbow and, spreading his hands upon the ground, perked up586 his bottom. His stepmother looked at him and marvelling much said in her mind, “Would Heaven I knew of this froward youth what may be his object!”587 However he never looked at her nor ever turned towards her but he abode quiet in the posture he had chosen. She stared hard at him and at last could no longer refrain from asking him, “Wherefore dost thou on this wise?” He answered, “And why not? I am doing that shall benefit me in the future, but what that is I will never tell thee; no, never.” She repeated her question again and again, and at last he replied, “I do thus when ’tis summer-tide and a something of caloric entereth my belly through my backside and when ’tis winter the same cometh forth and warmeth my body; and in the dog-days and keepeth me in heats like these, fresh and comfortable.”588 She asked, “An I do what thou doest, shall it be the same to me?” And he answered, “Aye.” Herewith she came forward beside him and raised her raiment from her behind till the half of her below the waist was stark naked; — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night as the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
581 The Irishman says, Sleep with both feet in one stocking.
582 Arab. or rather Egypt. “Bábúj,” from “Bábúg,” from the Pers. “Pay-púsh” = foot-clothing, vulg. “Pápúsh.” To beat with shoe, slipper, or pipe-stick is most insulting; the idea, I believe, being that these articles are not made, like the rod and the whip, for coporal chastisement, and are therefore used by way of slight. We find the phrase “he slippered the merchant” in old diaries, e.g. Sir William Ridges, 1683, Hakluyts, mdccclxxvii.
583 Arab. “Sarmújah” = sandals, slippers, shoes, esp. those worn by slaves.
584 Suggesting carnal need.
585 The young man being grown up did not live in his father’s house.
586 Arab. “Tartara.” The lexicons give only the sigs. “chattering” and so forth. Prob. it is an emphatic reduplication of “Tarra” = sprouting, pushing forward.
587 The youth plays upon the bride’s curiosity, a favourite topic in Arab. and all Eastern folk-lore.
588 There is a confusion in the text easily rectified by the sequel. The facetia suggests the tale of the Schildburgers, who on a fine summer’s day carried the darkness out of the house in their caps and emptied it into the sunshine which they bore to the dark room.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the grass-widow came forward beside her stepson and raised her raiment from her behind until the half of her below the waist was stark naked; and she did even as her husband’s son had done, and perked up her buttocks, leaning heavily upon her knees and elbows. Now when she acted on this wise the youth addressed her saying, “Thou canst not do it aright.” “How so?” “Because the wind passing in through the postern passeth out through thy portal, thy solution of continuity.” “Then how shall I do?” “Stopper thy slit wherethrough the air passeth.” “How shall I stopper it?” “An thou stopper it not thy toil will be in vain.” “Dost thou know how to stopper it?” “Indeed I do!” “Then, rise up and stopper it.” Hearing these words he arose, because indeed he greeded for her, and came up behind her as she rested upon her elbows and knees and hending in hand his prickle nailed it into her coynte and did manly devoir. And after having his will of her he said, “Thou hast now done thy best for me and thy belly is filled full of the warm breeze.” On this wise he continued every day, enjoying the wife of his father for some time during his wayfare, till the traveller returned home, and on his entering the house the bride rose and greeted him and said, “Thou hast been absent overlong!”589 The man sat with her awhile and presently asked of her case for that he was fearful of his son; so she answered, “I am hale and hearty!” “Did my son ask thee of aught?” “Nay, he asked me not, nor did he ever address me: withal, O Man, he hath admirable and excellent expedients and indeed he is deeply versed in natural philosophy.” “What expedients and what natural philosophy?” “He tucketh up his dress and exposeth his backside to the breeze which now passeth into his belly and benefiteth him throughout the cold season, and in winter he doeth exactly what he did in summer with effect as beneficial. And I also have done as he did.” Now when the husband heard these her words he knew that the youth had practised upon her and had enjoyed his desire of her; so he asked her, “And what was it thou diddest?” She answered, “I did even as he did. However the breeze would not at first enter into my belly for whatever passed through the back postern passed out of the front portal, and the youth said to me, ‘Stopper up thy solution of continuity.’ I asked him, ‘Dost thou know how to stopper it?’ and he answered, ‘Indeed I do!’ Then he arose and blocked it with his prickle; and every day I continued to do likewise and he to stopper up the peccant part with the wherewithal he hath.” All this was said to the husband who listened with his head bowed groundwards; but presently he raised it and cried, “There is no Majesty and there is no might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great;” and suddenly as they were speaking on that subject the youth came in to them — And Sharazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
589 A kindly phrase popularly addressed to the returning traveller whether long absent or not.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be not sleeping, finish for us thy tale, that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting, and of deeds fair-seeming and worth celebrating, that the youth came in to his father and found his step-mother relating to him all they had done whilst he was away and the man said to him, “Wherefore, O youth, hast thou acted on such wise?” Said the son, “What harm have I done? I only dammed the waterway that the warm air might abide in her belly and comfort her in the cold season.” So the father knew that his son had played this trick in order to have his will of her. Hereat he flew into a fury590 and forthright divorced her, giving her the contingent dowry; and she went her ways. Then the man said in his mind, “I shall never get the better of this boy until I marry two wives and ever keep them with each other, so that he may not cozen the twain.” Now after a couple of weeks he espoused a fair woman fairer than his former and during the next month he wived with a second and cohabited with the two brides. Then quoth the youth in his mind, “My papa hath wedded two perfect beauties and here am I abiding in single blessedness. By Allah, there is no help but that I play a prank upon both of them!” Then he fell to seeking a contrivance but he could not hit upon aught for that whenever he entered the house he found his two step-mothers sitting together and thus he could not avail to address either. But his father never fared forth from home or returned to it without warning his wives and saying, “Have a care of yourselves against that son of mine. He is a whoremonger and he hath made my life distraught, for whenever I take to myself a wife he serveth some sleight upon her; then he laugheth at her and so manageth that I must divorce her.” At such times the two wives would cry, “Walláhi, an he come near us and ask us of amorous mercy, we will slap him with our slippers.” Still the man would insist, saying, “Be ye on your guard against him,” and they would reply, “We are ever on our guard.” Now one day the women said to him, “O man, our wheat is finished,” and said he, “Be ye watchful while I fare to the Bazar in our market-town which lieth hard by and fetch you the corn.” So he left them and made for the town — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
590 In the text “Hamákah.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worth celebrating, that when the father had gone forth and was making for the market-town, his son happened to meet him, and the two wives went up to the terrace wishing to see if their husband be gone or not. Now by the decree of the Decreer the man had in some carelessness forgotten his papooshes so he turned to the youth who was following him and said, “O my son, go back and bring me my shoes.” The women still looking, and the youth returned in mighty haste and hurry till he stood under the terrace, when he looked up and said, “My father hath just now charged me with a charge saying, ‘Do thou go sleep with my wives, the twain of them, and have each one of them once.’ They replied, “What, O dog, O accursed, thy father bespake thee on this wise? By Allah, indeed thou liest, O hog, O ill-omened wight.” “Wallahi,” he rejoined, “I lie not!” So he walked back till he was near his father when he shouted his loudest so as to be heard by both parties, “O my papa, O my papa, one of them or the two of them? One of them or the two of them?” The father shouted in reply, “The two, the two! Allah disappoint thee: did I say one of them or the two of them?” So the youth returned to his father’s wives and cried, “Ye have heard what my papa said. I asked him within your hearing, ‘One of them or the two of them?’ and ye heard him say, ‘Both, both.’” Now the man was speaking of his slippers, to wit, the pair; but the women understood that his saying, “the two of them” referred to his wives. So one turned to her sister spouse and said, “So it is,591 our ears heard it and the youth hath in no wise lied: let him lie with me once and once with thee even as his father bade him.” Both were satisfied herewith; but meanwhile the son stole quietly into the house and found his father’s papooshes: then he caught him up on the road and gave them to him and the man went his ways. Presently the youth returned to the house and taking one of his father’s wives lay with her and enjoyed her and she also had her joy of him; and when he had done all he wanted with her he fared forth from her to the second wife in her chamber and stretched himself beside her and toyed with her and futtered her. She saw in the son a something she had not seen in the sire, so she joyed in him and he joyed in her. Now when he had won his will of the twain and had left the house the women foregathered and began talking and saying, “By Allah, this youth hath given us both much amorous pleasure, far more than his father ever did; but when our husband shall return let us keep our secret even though he spake the words we heard: haply he may not brook too much of this thing.” So as soon as the man came back with the wheat he asked the women saying, “What befel you?” and they answered, “O Man, art thou not ashamed to say to thy son, ‘Go sleep with both thy father’s wives?’ ’Tis lucky that thou hast escaped.” Quoth he, “Never said I aught of this”; and quoth they, “But we heard thee cry, ‘The two of them.’” He rejoined, “Allah disappoint you: I forgot my papooshes and said to him, ‘Go fetch them.’ He cried out ‘One of them or the two of them?’ and I replied, ‘The two of them,’ meaning my shoes, not you.” “And we,” said they, “when he spake to us such words slippered him and turned him out and now he never cometh near us.” “Right well have ye done,” he rejoined, “’tis a fulsome fellow.” This was their case; but as regards the youth, he fell to watching and dogging his father’s path, and whenever the man left the house and went afar from it he would go in to the women who rejoiced in his coming. Then he would lie with one, and when he had won his will of her he would go to the sister-wife and tumble her. This lasted for some time, until the women said each to other, “What need when he cometh to us for each to receive him separately in her room? Let us both be in one chamber and when he visiteth us let us all three, we two and he, have mutual joyance and let him pass from one to the other.” And they agreed to this condition, unknowing the decree of Allah which was preparing to punish the twain for their abandoned wantonness. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
591 Arab. “Adi” which has occurred before.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be not sleeping, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the two women agreed to partnership in iniquity with the youth their stepson. Now on the next day the man went forth and left his house for some pressing occasion and his son followed him till he saw him far distant: then the youth repaired to the two wives and found them both in one chamber. So he asked them, “Why doth not each of you go to her own apartment?” and they answered, “What use is there in that? Let us all be together and take our joy, we and thou.” So he lay between them and began to toy with them and tumble them; and roll over them and mount upon the bubbies of one and thence change seat to the other’s breasts and while so doing all were plunged in the sea of enjoyment.592 But they knew not what lurked for them in the hidden World of the Future. Presently, lo and behold! the father returned and entered the house when none of them expected him or was ware of him; and he heard their play even before he went into the chamber. Here he leant against a side-wall and privily viewed their proceedings and the lewd state they were in; and he allowed time to drag on and espied them at his ease, seeing his son mount the breasts of one woman and then shift seat to the bubbies of his other wife. After noting all this he fared quietly forth the house and sought the Wali complaining of the case; so the Chief of Police took horse and repaired with him to his home where, when the two went in, they found the three at the foulest play. The Wali arrested them one and all and carried them with elbows pinioned to his office. Here he made the youth over to the Linkman who struck his neck, and as for the two women he bade the executioner delay till nightfall and then take them and strangle them and hide their corpses underground. And lastly he commanded the public Crier go about all the city and cry; — “This be the award of high treason.” And men also relate (continued Shahrazad) the
592 This “little orgie,” as moderns would call it, strongly suggests the Egyptian origin of the tale.
Whilome in Cairo-city there was a man famed as a Lack-tact and another in Damascus was celebrated for the like quality. Each had heard of his compeer and longed to forgather with him and sundry folk said to the Syrian, “Verily the Lack-tact of Egypt is sharper than thou and a cleverer physiognomist and more intelligent, and more penetrating, and much better company; also he excelleth thee in debate proving the superiority of his lack of tact.” Whereto the Damascene would reply, “No, by Allah, I am more tasteful in my lack of tact than yon Cairene;” but his people ceased not to bespeak him on this wise until his heart was filled full of their words; so one day of the days he cried, “By Allah, there is no help for it but I fare for Cairo and forgather with her Lack-tact.” Hereupon he journeyed from Damascus and ceased not wayfaring till he reached Cairo. The time was about set of sun and the first who met him on the road was a woman; so he asked her concerning certain of the highways of the city and she answered, “What a Lack-tact thou must be to put such a question at such an hour! Whoso entereth a strange place in the morning enquireth about its highways, but whoso entereth at eventide asketh about its caravanserai594 wherein he may night.” “Sooth thou sayest,” rejoined he, “but my lack of tact hath weakened my wits.” He then sought news of the Khans and they showed him one whereto he repaired and passed the night; and in the morning — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
593 MS. vol. vi. 262-271. Arab. “ ‘Adím al-Zauk” which the old Latin dictionaries translate “destitutus experientiû” and “expers desiderii,” and it is = to our deficient in taste, manners, etc. The term is explained in vol. ix. 266. Here it evidently denotes what we call “practical joking,” a dangerous form of fun, as much affected by Egyptians as by the Hibernians.
594 In text “Wakálah” = an inn: vol. i. 266.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Lack-tact of Damascus passed the night in the Wakálah and in the morning he went forth and wandered about the highways of Cairo questing her Lack-tact; and, when they informed him of his rival’s whereabouts, he forgathered with him and was received with an honorable reception and was welcomed and kindly entreated and comfortably seated that the twain might talk over the news of the world. Presently quoth the Lack-tact of Damascus to the Lack-tact of Cairo, “I would that we two test each other’s quality by playing a prank in turn; and whoso shall be preferred by the testimony of the general, he shall lord it over his rival.” The Cairene asked, “Which of us shall begin?” and the Damascene answered, “I,” whereto the other rejoined, “Do whatso thou willest.” So the Syrian went forth and hired him an ass which he drove out of the city to a neighbouring clump of Ausaj-bushes595 and other thorns whereof he cut down a donkey-load, and setting the net-full upon the beast’s back returned to the city. He then made for the Báb al-Nasr,596 but he could not enter for the crowding of the folk frequenting it and the Cairene was gladdened by his doings: so the man stinted not standing there with his ass and load of thorns till morn was near, when he lost his temper and urged his beast close up to the gate. By so doing all the garments of the wayfarers which were caught by the Ausaj-thorns were torn to rags and tatters, and some of the people beat him and others buffetted him and others shoved him about saying, “What a superior Lack-tact thou art! Allah ruin thy natal realm! Thou hast torn folk’s dress to rags and tatters with that load of thorns.” Still he drave his donkey onwards albeit the people cried to him, “O man, withdraw thee, the passengers are all jammed at the gate;” but he would not retire and those present dealt him more blows and abuse. Hereat he only cried, “Let me pass through!” and pushed on whereby he obtained a severer beating. This lasted till mid-afternoon, for he could on nowise enter by reason of the crush at the Báb al-Nasr; but about sundown the crowd thinned and so he drove on his ass and passed the gate. Then quoth to him the Cairene, “What is this thou hast done? This is mere horseplay597 and not lack of tact.” Now on the morning of the next day the Lack-tact of Cairo was required to play his prank even as the Damascene had done; so he rose up and girded his loins and tucked up his sleeves and took up a tray — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be not sleeping, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Egyptian rose up and girded his loins and tucked up his sleeves, and taking him a tray said to the Syrian, “Up and after me and see what I shall do.” Then he went out tray on head, and foregoing the Damascene to a flower-garden he gathered a bundle of blooms and sweet-scented herbs, pinks and roses and basil and pennyroyal598 and marjoram and other such, until the tray was filled, after which he turned to town. About noontide he repaired to one of the Cathedral-mosques and entered the lavatory,599 around which were some fifteen privies:600 so he stood amiddlemost the floor considering the folk as they entered the jakes to do their jobs in private lest the bazar-people come upon them during their easement. And all were sore pressed wanting to pass urine or to skite; so whenever a man entered the place in a hurry he would draw the door to. Then the Lack-tact of Cairo would pull the door open, and go in to him carrying a posy of perfumed herbs, and would say, “Thy favour!601 O my brother,” and the man would shout out saying, “Allah ruin thy natal realm, are we at skite or at feast?” whereat all standing there would laugh at him. Suddenly one rushed into the lavatory sore pressed and hanging an arse602 and crying aloud in his grievous distress, “O Allah, O His Prophet, aid me!” for that he feared to let fly in his bag-trousers. Then the Lack-tact would accost him holding in hand his posy of perfumed herbs, and softly saying, “Bismillah-take it, and give me thy favour;” and the man would roar at the top of his voice, “Allah disappoint thee! what a Lack-tact thou art: I am sore pressed; get thee out.” And the further that man would fare away from him the closer he would follow him saying, “Thy favour! Take it! Smell it!” Now at that time all the cabinets of easement were full of people, nor did one remain vacant, and the distressed man stood there expecting someone to issue that he might enter; but in his condition the delay was over-long — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
598 This is a mere shot: the original has “Baítharán.”
599 Arab. “Mayzah” = the large hall with a central fountain for ablution attached to every great Mosque.
600 In the text “Shashmah,” from Pers. “Chashmah” a fountain; applied in Egypt to the small privies with slab and hole; vol. i. 221.
601 [In Ar. “Unsak,” an expression principally used when drinking to one’s health, in which sense it occurs, for instance, in the Bresl. ed. of The Nights, i. 395, 7.-ST.]
602 Arab. “Mutáti bi zahri-h”: our ancestors’ expression was not polite, but expressive and picturesque.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Cairene Lack-tact kept bespeaking that sorely distressed man and following him as he fled, crying out to him and saying, “Away from me, am I not this moment about to skite or am I at a feast?” till at last the excess of weight in his arse-gut caused him to let fly in his bag-trousers and bewray all his behind. And during this time none came out of the jakes, so the unhappy sat in his unease and all the folk seeing him conskite himself fell to laughing at him as he sat there, and the Lack-tact of Cairo continued offering him the posy, saying, “Thy favour!” and the other continned shouting his loudest, “Am I at skite or at a feast?” Thereupon the Lack-tact of Damascus turned to his rival and cried, “The Fátihah603 is in thy books, O Chief Joker of Cairo. By Allah (and the Almighty grant thee length of life!) thou hast excelled me in everything, and they truly say that none can surpass or overcome the Cairene and men have agreed to declare that the Syrian winneth his wish and gaineth only blame, while the Egyptian winneth not his wish and gaineth thanks and praise.” And amongst other things it happened604 that a Cairene went to borrow a donkey from another man, a Damascene, wishing to ride it to a wedding, and when he met his friend he saluted him and said, “Ho Such-an-one, lend me thine ass for such a purpose.” Now when the owner of the animal heard these words he smote hand upon hand and cried, “O worshipper of Allah,605 a little while ere thou camest to me, a man urgently asked it of me and took it on loan: haddest thou been somewhat earlier I would have lent it to thee. Verily I am put to shame by thee as thou goest from me without thy need.” The Egyptian said in his mind, “By Allah, this one speaketh sooth, and had the donkey been in his house assuredly he would have lent it to me.” But the owner of the animal said to himself, “Certainly Such-an-one begged it of me, but the rest is a lie, for the beast is shut up in the stable.” However the Syrian who owned the beast went to his gossip, the man who had begged a loan of it, and entering the house salam’d to him and said, “Give me the donkey, O Such-an-one;"— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoy able and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
603 The normal pun: “Fátihah,” fem. of “fátih” = an opener, a conqueror, is the first Koranic chapter, for which see iv. 36.
604 This appears to be a kind of padding introduced to fill up the Night. The loan of an ass is usually granted gratis in Fellah villages and Badawi camps. See Matth. xxi. 2, 3; Mark xi. 2-6, and Luke xix. 30-34.
605 i.e. O Moslem, opposed to Enemy of Allah = a non-Moslem. In text Yá ‘Ibád, plur. for sing.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the Syrian went to his gossip saying, “Give me the ass;” and when the other heard this he showed his teeth606 and cried, “Allah disappoint the donkey and the owner of the donkey and whoso rideth the donkey,” and flying into an exceeding fury at last said, “Go, O my lord, and take it from the stable, and may Allah never bring back nor thee nor the beast.” So the Syrian went from him saying in himself, “Allah disappoint this fellow, why did he not give me the ass at first and then he had not had occasion to abuse and curse himself and to revile me also.” But they say and say truly, “The Syrian winneth his wish, but gaineth only blame while the Egyptian winneth not his wish and gaineth thanks and praise!”
606 Arab. “Kashshara” = grinned a ghastly smile; it also means laughing so as to show the teeth.
I have a tale, O my lord the Kazi, which bewildereth the wits and it is on this wise. By birth and origin I was the son of a Khwájah, but my father owned much worldly wealth in money and effect and vaiselle and rarities and so forth, besides of landed estates and of fiefs and mortmains a store galore. And every year when the ships of Al-Hind would arrive bringing Indian goods and coffee from Al-Yaman the folk brought thereof one-fourth of the whole and he three-fourths paying in ready cash and hard money.608 So his word was heard and his works were preferred amongst the Traders and the Grandees and the Rulers. Also he had control609 in counseling the Kings and he was held in awe and obeyed by the merchants, one and all, who consulted him in each and every of their affairs. This endured until one year of the years when suddenly he fell sick and his sickness grew upon him and gained mastery over his frame, so he sent for me, saying, “Bring me my son.” Accordingly I went and entered to him and found him changed of condition and nearing his last gasp. But he turned to me and said, “O my son, I charge thee with a charge which do thou not transgress nor contrary me in whatso I shall declare to thee.” “What may that be?” asked I, and he answered, “O my son, do thou never make oath in Allah’s name, or falsely or truly, even although they fill the world for thee with wealth; but safeguard thy soul in this matter and gain-say it not, nor give ear to aught other.” But when it was midnight the Divine Mystery610 left him and he died to the mercy of Allah Almighty; so I buried him, and expending much money upon his funeral and graved him in a handsome tomb. He had left to me wealth in abundance such as the pens could not compute, but when a month or so had sped after his decease suddenly came to me a party of folk, each and every claming by way of debt from me and my sire the sum of some five thousand dinars. “Where be your written bond given by my father?” asked I; but they answered, “There be no instrument and if thou believe us not make oath by Allah.” Replied I saying, “Never will I swear at all,” and paid them whatso they demanded; after which all who feared not the Lord would come to me and say, “We have such-and-such owing to us by thy parent;” and I would pay them off until there remained to me of ready moneys a matter neither great nor small. Hereupon I fell to selling off my landed estates — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawning of day and fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
607 This tale follows “The Kazi of Baghdd, his Treacheous Brother and his Virtuous Wife,” which is nothing but a replica o “The Jewish Kazi and his Pious Wife” (vol. v. 256). Scott has translated it, after his fashion, in vol. vi. p. 396-408, and follows it up with “The sultan’s Story of Himself,” which ends his volume as it shall be the conclusion of mine.
608 In text, “Wa yaakhazu ‘l thalátha arbá’ min máli-hi wa salbi hálí-hi.”
609 In text, “La-hu Diráah (for “Diráyah” = prudence) fí tadbírí ‘l-Mulúk.”
610 In text, “Al-Sirru ‘l-iláhi,” i.e. the soul, which is “divinû particula aurû.”
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the King thus continued his relation to the Kazi:— I began selling off my landed estates and fiefs and letting out my settlements of bequeathal611 until naught of all that remained by me; so I fell to vending the house-gear and goods and carpets and pots and pans until I owned nothing whatever, and my case waxed straitened and the affair was grievous to me. Then I quoth to myself, “Allah’s earth for Allah’s folk!” and, albeit I had a wife and to male children, I left them and went forth under cover of the night a wanderer about the world and unknowing where I should bring myself to anchor. But suddenly, O my lord the Kazi, I was confronted by a man whose aspect bred awe, showing signs of saintliness and garbed wholly in spotless white; so I accosted him and kissed his hand, and he on seeing me said, “O my son, there is no harm to thee!” presently adding,
“Do thou be heedless of thy cark and care
And unto Fate commit thy whole affair;
The Lord shall widen what to thee is strait;
The Lord shall all for breadth of space prepare:
The Lord shall gladly end they grievous toils;
The Lord shall work His will, so jar forbear.”
After these words he took my hand and walked with me athwart those wilds and wolds till such time as we made a city and entered its gates. Here, however, we found no signs of creature-kind nor any mark of Son of Adam, and when I sighted whit my condition changed and fear and affright entered my heart. But presently the man turned to me and said, “Dread not nor be startled, for that this city shall (Inshallah!) be thy portion, and herein thou shalt become Sovran and Sultan.” Quoth I to myself, “Walláhi, verily this man be Jann-mad lacking wit and understanding! How shall become King and Kaysar in such place which is all ruins?” Then he turned to me yet another time, saying, “Trust in Allah and gainsay Him not; for verily shall come to thee joy out of that wherein thou wast of straitness and annoy."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
611 In text, “Nuwájiru ‘l-wukúfat.” [I read “nuwájiru (for nuájiru”) ‘l-wukúfát,” taking the first word to be a verb corresponding to the preceding, “nabí‘u,” and the second a clerical error for “al-Maukúfát.” In this case the meaning would be: “and letting for hire such parts of my property as were inalienable."— ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that quoth the man to the youth612, “Trust in Allah, for verily joy shall assuredly come to thee from the Almighty.” “What joy?” quoth the Khwajah’s son, “and indeed this city is a ruinous heap nor is there indweller or habitant or any to attest God’s Unity.” But the man ceased not going about the highways of the deserted town with his companion till such time as he reached the Palace of the Sultanate, and the twain entering therein found it with its vases and its tapestry like a bride tricked out613. Bit the Spider had tented therein, so both the wights fell to shaking and sweeping for three days’ space till they had cleaned away all the webbing and dust of years; after which the elder man took the younger and entered a closet. Herein he came upon a trap-door which the two uplifted, when behold, they found a staircase leading below; so they descended and walked till they ended at a place with four open halls, one and all fulfilled with gold, and amiddlemost thereof rose a jetting fount twenty ells long by fifteen broad, and the whole basin was heaped up with glittering gems and precious ores. When the merchant’s son saw this sight, he was wildered on his wits and perplext in his thoughts, but the man said to him, “O my son, all this hath become thine own good.” After this the two replaced the trap-door as it was and quitted that place; then the man took him and led him to another stead concealed from the ken of man wherein he found arms and armour and costly raiment; and the two stinted not wandering about the palace until they reached the royal Throne-room. Now, when the Khwajah’s son looked upon it he waxed distraught and fell a-fainting to the floor for awhile614 and presently when he revived he asked his companion, “O my lord, what be this?” Answered he, “This be the throne of the Sultanate wherewith the Almighty hath gifted thee;” and quoth the other, “By Allah, O my lord, I believe that there is not in me or strength or long-suffering to take seat upon yonder throne.” All this the King (who erst was a merchant’s son) recounted to the Judge and presently resumed:615— Then the man, O my lord, said to me, “O my son, to all who shall come hither and seek thee be sure thou distribute gifts and do alms-deeds; so the folk, hearing of thy largesse, shall flock to thee and gather about thee and as often as one shall visit thee, exceed in honour and presents from the treasure-store thou hast sighted and whose site thou weetest.” And so speaking, O our lord the Kazi, he vanished from my view and I wist not an he had upflown to the firmament or had dived into the depths of the earth, but one thing I knew; to with, that I was alone. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
612 Here the text has the normal enallage of persons, the third for the first, “the youth” for “I.” I leave it unaltered by way of specimen.
613 In text “’Arús muhallíyah.”
614 He fainted thinking of the responsibilities of whoso should sit thereupon.
615 Here is a third enallage, the King returning to the first person, the oratio directa.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the merchant’s son resumed to the Kazi:— Then the man vanisht from my view and I wist no more thereof. So I seated me (and I was all alone) in that city for the first day and the second, but on the third behold, I saw a crowd making for me from the city-suburbs and they were seeking a site wherefrom they had somewhat to require. So I met them and welcomed them and seated them, and soon I arose and cooking for them food ate in their company and we nighted together; and when it was morning I presented each and every of them with an hundred dinars. These they accepted and fared forth from me and on reaching their homes they recounted the adventure to other folk who also flocked to me and received presents like those who preceded them. Anon appeared to me a multitude with their children and wives who said, “Billáhi,616 O my lord, accept of us that we may settle beside thee and be under thy protecting glance;” whereupon I ordered houses be given to them. Moreover there was amongst them a comely youth who showed signs of prosperity and him I made my assessor; so we two, I and he, would converse together. The crowd thickened, little by little, until the whilome ruined city became fulfilled of inhabitants, when I commanded sundry of them that they go forth and lay our gardens and orchards and plant tree-growth; and a full-told year had not elapsed ere the city returned to its older estate and waxed great as erst it was and I became therein Sovran and Sultan. Such was the case of this King;617 but as regards the matter of his wife and his two sons, whenas he fared forth from them he left them naught to eat and presently their case was straitened and the twain set out, each in his own direction, and overwandered the world and endured the buffets of life until their semblance was changed for stress of toil and travail and transit from region to region for a while of time. At last, by decree of the Decreer, the elder was thrown by Eternal Fate into the very town wherein was his sire and said to himself, “I will fare to the King of this city and take from him somewhat."— And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the young man went in to the Sultan and kissed the ground before him and the King regarding him felt his heart yearn himwards and said, “What wantest thou, O youth?” “My design is service with thee,” said the other; and the King rejoined, “Then welcome to thee!” So he abode in his employ for a term of four months until he became like unto a Mameluke618 and his first case was changed: the Sultan also drew him near and fell to consulting him in sundry matters the which proved propitious, so quoth the King, “By Allah, this young man meriteth naught less than to become my Wazir,” and accordingly made him his Minister of the Right. In his new degree he became as another liege lord619 and his word was heard, so the land was opened up by his hand and year by year he derived from it corvées and taxes, nor did he cease to be the Chief Councilor under the right hand of the King. Meanwhile his brother who was the younger stinted not faring from land to land until he was met by a party of wayfarers that said to him, “O youth, verily the Sultan who ruleth in such a capital is a liberal lord, loving the poor and paupers; so do thou seek him and haply shall he show himself bounteous to thee.” Quoth he, “I know not the city,” and quoth they, “We will lead thee thereto for we purpose to go by his town.” So they took him and he accompanied them until they reached the city when he farewelled them and entered the gates. After solacing himself with the sights he passed that night in the Wakálah and as soon as it was morning he fared forth to serve for somewhat wherewith he might nourish himself,620 and it was his lot and the doom of the Decreer that the Sultan, who had ridden forth to seek his pleasure in the gardens, met him on the highway. The King’s glance fell upon the youth and he was certified of his being a stranger and a wanderer for that his clothes were old and worn, so he thrust his hand into pouch and passed to him a few gold pieces which the other accepted right thankfully and blessed the giver and enlarged his benediction with eloquent tongue and the sweetest speech. The Sultan hearing this bade them bring to him the stranger, and whenas they did his bidding he questioned him of his case and was informed that he was a foreigner who had no friends in that stead; whereupon the Sovran took him in and clothed him and entreated him with kindness and liberality621. And after a time the Wazir of the Right became kindly hearted unto him and took him into his household where he fell to teaching him until the youth waxed experience in expression and right ready of the reply and acquired full knowledge of kingcraft. Presently quoth the Minister to the Sultan, “o King of the Age, indeed this youth befitteth naught save councillorship, so do thou make him Wazir of the Left.” The King said, “With love,” and followed his advice; nor was it long before his heart inclined o the hearts of his two Ministers and the time waxed clear to him and the coming of these two youths brought him serenity for a length of days and they also were in the most joyous of life. But as regards their mother; when her sons went forth from her, she bode alone — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
618 i.e. well fed, sturdy and bonny.
619 “Sára lá-hu Shanán.” [The work in the text, which is exceedingly badly written, looks to me as if it were meant for “Thániyan” = and he (the youth) became second to him (the Sultan), i.e. his alter ego. — ST.]
620 In text “Yatama’ash min-hu.” [A denominative of the 5th form from “Ma’ásh,” livelihood. It usually has the meaning of “earning one’s living,” but occurs in Makkari’s Life of Ibn al-Khatíb also in the sense of “feeding or glutting upon,” although applied there not to victuals but to books. — ST.]
621 In text “Sára yuráshí-h.” [“Yuráshí” and “yuráshú,” which had occured p. 304, are the 6th form of “rashá, yarshú” = he bestowed a gift (principally for the sake of bribery, hence “Rashwah” or “Rishwah” = a bribe), he treated kindly. — ST.]
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the woman who bode alone having been abandoned by her husband and her children, cried, “I am here sitting sans my mate and sans my sons; whatso ever shall I do?” and anon the case became grievous to her and she set out to bewander the regions saying, “Haply shall Allah reunite me with my children and my husband!” And she stinted not passing from place to place and shifting from site to site until she reached a town upon the margin of the main and found a vessel in cargo and about to sail.622 Now by the decree of the Decreer the ship-captain having heard tell of the Sultan’s generosity and open-handedness had made ready for him a present and was about to voyage therewith to his capital. Learning this the woman said to him, “Allah upon thee, O Captain, take me with thee;” and he did accordingly, setting sail with a fair wind. He sped over the billows of that sea for a space of forty days and throughout this time he kept all the precepts and commandments of religion, as regards the woman,623 supplying her with meat and drink; nay more, he was wont to address her, “O my mother.” And no sooner had they made the city than he landed and disembarked the present and loading it upon porters’ backs took his way therewith to the Sovran and continues faring until he entered the presence. The Sultan accepted the gift and largessed him in return, and at even-tide the skipper craved leave of return to his ship fearing lest any harm befal vessel or passengers. So he said, “O King of the Age, on board with me is a woman, but she is of goodly folk and godly and I am apprehensive concerning her.” “Do thou night here with us,” quoth the Sovran, “and I will dispatch my two Wazirs to keep guard over her until dawn shall break.” Quoth the Captain, “Hearing and obeying,” and he sat with the Sultan, who at night-fall commissioned his two Ministers and placed the vessel under their charge and said, “Look ye well to your lives, for an aught be lost from the ship I will cut off your heads,” So they went down to her and took their seats the one on poop and the other on prow until near midnight when both were seized by drowsiness; and said to each other, “Sleep is upon us, let us sit together624 and talk.” Hereupon he who was afore returned to him who was abaft the ship625 and they sat side by side in converse while the woman in the cabin sat listening to them. — And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was,
622 “Markab Mausúkah,” from “Wask” = conceiving, being pregnant, etc.
623 “Mutawassi * * * al-Wisayát al-Támmah.” [“Mutawassi” has been met with before (see p. 303) and “Wisáyah” is the corresponding noun = he charged himself with (took upon himself) her complete charge, i.e. maintnance. — ST.]
624 [In Ar. “khallí-ná nak’ud,” a thoroughly modern expression. It reads like a passage from Spitta Bey’s Contes Arabes Modernes, where such phrases as: “khallí-ná niktib al-Kitáb,” let us write the marriage contract, “ma-ttkhallihsh (for “má takhallí-hu shay”) yishúfak,” let him not see thee and the like are very frequent. — ST.]
625 “Fi Kashshi ‘l-Markab;” According to custome in the East all the ship’s crew had run on shore about their own business as soon as she cast anchor. This has happened to me on board an Egyptian man-of-war where, on arriving at Suez, I found myself the sum total of the crew.
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of this our latter night!” She replied, “With love and good will!” It hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy celebrating, that the two sons foregathered in converse while the mother was listening and anon quoth the elder to the younger, “Allah upon thee, O Wazir of the Left, do thou relate to me whatso befel and betided thee in thy time and what was the true cause of thy coming to this city; nor conceal from me aught.” “By Allah, O Wazir of the Right,” quoth the other, “my tale is wondrous and mine adventure marvelous and were it paged upon paper the folk would talk thereanent race after race.”626 “And what may that be?” asked he, and the other answered, “’Tis this. My sire was son to a mighty merchant who had of moneys and goods and estates and such like what pens may not compute and which intelligence may not comprehend. Now this my grandsire was a man whose word was law and every day he held a Divan wherein the traders craved his counsel about taking and giving and selling and buying; and this endured until what while a sickness attacked him and he sensed his end drawing near. So he summoned his son and charged him and insisted thereon as his last will and testament that he never and by no means make oath in the name of Allah or truly or falsely.” Now the younger brother had not ended his adventure before the elder Wazir threw himself upon him and flinging his arms around his neck cried, “Walláhi, thou art my brother by father and mother!” and when the woman heard these words of the twain her wits wandered for joy, but she kept the matter hidden until morning. The two Wazirs rejoiced in having found each of them a long-lost brother and slumber fled their eyes until dawned the day when the woman sent for the Captain and as soon as he appeared said to him, “Thou broughtest two men to protect me but they caused me only trouble and travail.” The man hearing these words repaired forthright and reported them to the Sovran who waxed madly wroth and bade summon his two Ministers and when they stood between his hands asked them, “What was’t ye did in the ship?” They answered, “By Allah, O King, there befel us naught but every weal;” and each said, “I recognized this my brother for indeed hi is the son of the same parents,” whereat the Sovran wondered and quoth he, “Laud to the Lord, indeed these two Wazirs must have a strange story.” So he made them repeat whatso they had said in the ship and they related to him their adventure from the beginning to end. Hereupon the King cried, “By Allah, ye be certainly my sons,” when lo and behold! the woman came forwards and repeated to him all that the Wazirs had related whereby it was certified that she was the King’s lost wife and their lost mother.627 Hereupon they conducted her to the Harem and all sat down to banquet and they led ever after the most joyous of lives. All this the King related to the Judge and finally said, “O our lord the Kazi, such-and-such and so-and-so befel until Allah deigned re-unite me with my children and my wife.
626 In text, “Jílan ba’da Jíl:” the latter word = revolutions, change of days, tribe, people.
627 The dénoument is a replica of “The Tale of the King who lost kingdom and wife and wealth and Allah restored them to him” (Suppl. Nights, vol. i. 221). That a Sultan should send his Ministers to keep watch over a ship’s cargo sounds passably ridiculous to a European reader, but a coffee-house audience in the East would have found it perfectly natural. Also, that three men, the Sultan and his sons, should live together for years without knowing anything of one another’s lives seems to us an absurdity; in the case of an Oriental such detail would never strike him even as impossible or even improbable.
I here proceed to offer a list of the tales in the Wortley Montague MS. (Nos. 550-556), beginning with
which contains 472 pages=92 Nights. It is rudely written, with great carelessness and frequent corrections, and there is a noted improvement in the subsequent vols. which Scott would attribute to another transcriber. This, however, I doubt: in vol. i. the scribe does not seem to have settled down to his work. The MS. begins abruptly and without caligraphic decoration; nor is there any red ink in vol. i. except for the terminal three words. The topothesia is in the land of Sásán, in the Isles of Al-Hind and Al-Sind; the elder King being called “Báz” and “Shár-báz” and the younger “Kahraman” (p. l, 11. 5-6), and in the same page (1. 10) “Saharban, King of Samarkand”; while the Wazir’s daughters are “Shahrzádah” and “Dunyázádah” (p. 8). The Introduction is like that of the Mac. Edit. (my text); but the dialogue between the Wazir and his Daughter is shortened, and the “Tale of the Merchant and his Wife,” including “The Bull and the Ass,” is omitted. Of novelties we find few. When speaking of the Queen and Mas’úd the Negro (called Sa’id in my text, p. 6) the author remarks:—
Take no black to lover; pure musk tho’ he be
Carrion-taint shall pierce to the nose of thee.
And in the “Tale of the Trader and the Jinni “ (MS. 1, 9: see my transl. 1, 25) the ‘Ifrit complains that the Merchant had thrown the date-stones without exclaiming “Dastúr!"— by thy leave.
The following is a list of the Tales in vol. i.:—
| PAGE | |
| Introductory Chapter | 1-9 |
| Tale of the Trader and the Jinni, Night i.-ii. | 9 |
| The First Shaykh’s Story, Night ii. | 14 |
| The Second Shaykh’s Story, Night ii. | 23 |
| The Third Shaykh’s Story, Night iv. | 34 |
Scott, following “Oriental Collections,” ii. 34, supposes that the latter was omitted by M. Galland “on account of its indecency, it being a very free detail of the amours of an unfaithful wife.” The true cause was that it did not exist in Galland’s Copy of The Nights (Zotenberg, Histoire d’ ‘Ala al-Din, p. 37). Scott adds, “In this copy the Genie restores the Antelope, the Dogs and the Mule to their pristine forms, which is not mentioned by Galland, on their swearing to lead virtuous lives.”
| PAGE | |
| Conclusion of the Trader and the Jinni, Night v. | 43 |
| The Fisherman and the Jinni, including the Tales of the Sage Dúbán and the ensorcelled Prince and
omitting the Stories (1) of King Sindibád and his Falcon (2) the Husband and the Parrot and (3) the Prince and the Ogress. |
44 |
| The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad, Night v. | 100 |
| The First Kalandar’s Tale, Night xxxix. | 144 |
| The Second Kalandar’s Tale, Night xlviii. | 152 |
| (The beginning of this Tale is wanting in the MS. which omits p. 151: also The Envier and the Envied, admitted into the list of Hikáyát, is here absent.) | |
| The Third Kalandar’s Tale, Night lv. | 173 |
| The Eldest Lady’s Tale. Night lxvi. | 231 |
| Tale of the Portress. Conclusion of the Story of the Porter and Three Ladies of Baghdad, Night lxii. (a clerical mistake for lxx.?) | 260 |
| (In Galland follow the Voyages of Sindbad the Seaman which are not found in this copy.) | |
| The Tailor and the Hunchback, Night lxviii. (for lxxiv.?) | 295 |
| The Nazarene Broker’s Story, Night lxviii. (for lxxiv.?) | 308 |
| The Youth whose hand was cut off, Night (?)628 | 312 |
| (In p. 314 is a hiatus not accounting for the loss of hand.) | |
| The Barber’s Tale of his First Brother | 314 |
| The Barber’s Tale of his Second Brother | 317 |
| The Barber’s Tale of his Third Brother | 323 |
| The Barber’s Tale of his Fourth Brother | 327 |
| The Barber’s Tale of his Fifth Brother | 331 |
| The Barber’s Tale of his Sixth Brother | 343 |
| The end of the Tale of the Hunchback, the Barber and others, Night lxviii.(?) | 350 |
| PAGE | |
| Núr al-Dín Alí and the Damsel Anis al-Jalís, Night lxviii | 355 |
| Sayf al-Mulúk and Badí‘a al-Jamal, Night xci.629 | 401 |
| Tale of the Youth of Mosul whose hand was cut off, Night xcii | 466-472 |
| (The Tale of the Jewish Doctor in my vol. i. 288-300.) |
Vol. i. ends with a page of scrawls, the work of some by-gone owner.
Contains 316 pages, and includes end of Night xcii. to Night clxvi. The MS. is somewhat better written; the headings are in red ink and the verses are duly divided. The whole volume is taken up by the Tale of Kamar al-Zamán (1st), with the episodes of Al-Amjad and Al-As’ad, but lacking that of Ni’amah and Naomi. In Galland Kamar al-Zaman begins with Night ccxi.: in my translation with vol. iii. 212 and concludes in vol. iv. 29. This 2nd vol. (called in colophon the 4th Juz) ends with the date 20th Sha’abán, A.H. 1177.
Contains 456 pages, extending from Night cccvi. (instead of Night clxvii.) to cdxxv. and thus leaving an initial hiatus of 140 Nights (cxvi.-cccvi. C. de Perceval, vol. viii. p. 14). Thus the third of the original eight volumes is lost. On this subject Dr. White wrote to Scott, “One or two bundles of Arabic manuscript, of the same size and handwriting as the second volume of the Arabian Tales, were purchased at the sale by an agent for Mr. Beckford of Fonthill, and I have no doubt whatever but that the part deficient in your copy is to be found in his possession.” If such be the case, and everything seems to prove it, this volume was not No. iii. but No. iv. The MS. begins abruptly with the continuation of the tale. There is no list of contents, and at the end are two unimportant “copies of verses” addressed to the reader, five couplets rhyming in–ímu (e.g. ta’dimu) and two in — af (e.g. Salaf).
The following is a list of the contents:—
| PAGE | |
| Part of the Tale of Hasan of Bassorah, Nights cccvi.-cccxxix | 1-81 |
| Story of the Sultan of Al-Yaman630 and his Sons, told to Al-Rashíd by Hasan of Bassorah, Nights cccxxix.-cccxxxiv | 81 |
| Story of the Three Sharpers,631 Nights cccxxxiv.-cccxlii | 96 |
| The Sultan who fared forth in the habit of a Darwaysh, Night cccxlii | 121 |
| History of Mohammed, Sultan of Cairo, Night cccxliii.-cccxlviii | 124 |
| Story of the First Lunatic,632 Night cccxlviii.-ccclv | 141 |
| Story of the Second Lunatic, Night ccclv.-ccclvii | 168 |
| Story of the Sage and his Scholar, Night ccclvii.-ccclxii | 179 |
| Night-Adventure of Sultan Mohammed of Cairo with three foolish Schoolmasters, Night ccclxii | 204 |
| Tale of the Mother and her Three Daughters, Night ccclxii | 206 |
| Story of the broke-back Schoolmaster, Night ccclxiii | 211 |
| Story of the Split-mouthed Schoolmaster, Night ccclxiii | 214 |
| Story of the limping Schoolmaster, Night ccclxiv.-ccclxv | 219 |
| Story of the three Sisters and their Mother the Sultánah, Night ccclxvi.-ccclxxxvi | 231 |
| History of the Kází who bare a babe, Night ccclxxxvi.-cccxcii | 322 |
| Tale of the Kází and the Bhang-eater, Night cccxciii.-cdiii | 344 |
| History of the Bhang-eater and his wife, Night cccxciii.-cdiii | 348 |
| How Drummer Abú Kásim became a Kází, Night cdiii.-cdxii | 372 |
| Story of the Kazi and his Slipper (including the Tale of the Bhang-eater who became the Just Wazir and who decided two difficult cases), Night cdxii.-cdxiii | 424 |
| Tale of Mahmúd the Persian and the Kurd Sharper, Night cdiii.-cdxvi | 428 |
| Tale of the Sultan and the poor man who brought to him fruit, including the Fruit-seller’s 633 Tale, Night cdxvi.-cdxxv | 432 |
| Story of the King of Al-Yaman and his Three Sons and the Enchanting Bird, which ends this volume, Night cdxvii-cdxxvi | 437 |
Contains 456 pages, and ranges between Nights cdxxvi. and dxcvi.
| PAGE | |
| Continuation of the Story of the King of Al-Yaman634 and his Three Sons and the Enchanting Bird, Night cdxxvi.-cdxxxix | 1-34 |
| SCOTT prefers “The Sultan of the East,” etc. | |
| History of the First Larrikin, Night cdxxxix-cdxliv | 34 |
| SCOTT: “The first Sharper in the Cave,” p. 185. | |
| History of the Second Larrikin, Night cdxliii.-cdxlv | 46 |
| History of the Third Larrikin, Night cdxlv.-cdxlvi | 53 |
| Story of a Sultan of Hind and his Son Mohammed, Night cdxlvi.-cdlviii | 58 |
| SCOTT: “The Sultan of Hind.” | |
| Tale of a Fisherman and his Son, Night cdlix.-cdlxix | 83 |
| Tale of the Third Larrikin concerning himself, Night cdlxix.-cdlxxii | 107 |
| SCOTT: “The Unfortunate Lovers.” | |
| History of Abú Niyyah and Abú Niyyatayn, Night cdlxxii.-cdlxxxiii | 113 |
| SCOTT: “Abou Neeut, the well-intentioned Sultan of Moussul, and Ab ou Neeutteen, the double-minded.” | |
| The Courtier’s Story, or Tale of the Nadim to the Emir of Cairo, Night cdlxxxiii.-cdxci | 140 |
| SCOTT: “Story related to an Ameer of Egypt by a Courtier,” p. 229. | |
| Another relation of the Courtier, Night cdcxi | 157 |
| (Here Iblis took the place of a musician.) | |
| The Shaykh with Beard shorn by the Shaytan, Night cdxcii | 162 |
| History of the King’s Son of Sind and the Lady Fatimah, Night cdxci.-di | 165 |
| SCOTT: “The Sultan of Sind and Fatimah, daughter of Ummir635 (’Ámir) Ibn Naománn (Nu’uman).” | |
| History of the Lovers of Syria, Night di.-dx | 189 |
| SCOTT: “The Lovers of Syria.” | |
| History of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the Young Sayyid, Night dx-dxx | 213 |
| SCOTT: “The Young Sayd and Hijauje.” | |
| Uns al-Wujúd and the Wazir’s Daughter Rose-in-hood, Night dxxi.-dxli | 240 |
| SCOTT: “Ins al-Wujood and Wird al-Ikmaum, daughter of Ibrahim, Vizier of Sultan Shamikh.” | |
| Story of the Sultan’s Son and Daughter of the Wazir, Night dxli.-dxlv | 293 |
| Tale of Sultan Káyyish, Night dxlv.-dlvii | 312 |
| (A romance of chivalry and impossible contests of ten knights against 15,000 men.) | |
| The Young Lady transformed into a Gazelle by her Step-mother, Night dlviii.-dlxiii | 345 |
| The History of Mázin, Night dlxviii-dxcv. (omitted, because it is the same as “Hasan of Bassorah and the King’s Daughter of the Jinn,” vol. viii. 7); to the end of vol. iv | 456 |
Contains 465 pages from the beginning of Night dxcvi. to dccxlvi.
| PAGE | |
| Continuation and end of the History of Mazin, Night dxcvi-dcxxiv | 1-94 |
| Night adventure of Harun al-Rashid, Night dcxxxxv.-dcl | 95 |
| SCOTT: “Adventure of Haroon al-Rusheed, vol. vi. 343 (including Story related to Haroon al-Rusheed) by Ibn Munsoor of Damascus, of his adventures at Bussorah; the Story related to Haroon al-Rusheed by Munjaub (Manjab) and Haroon’s conduct on hearing the story of Munjaub.” | |
| Tale of the Barber and his Son (told by Manjab), Night dlxi.-dcli | 180 |
| SCOTT: “Story of the Sultan, the Dervishe and the Barber’s Son.” | |
| The Badawi Woman and her Lover, Night dclv.-dclvi | 196 |
| Story of the Wife and her two Gallants, Night dclvi.-dclx | 199 |
| Tale of Princess Al-Hayfá and Prince Yusuf, Night dclx.-dccx | 210 |
| SCOTT: “Story of Aleefah, daughter of Mherejaun, Sultan of Hind, and Eusuff, Prince of Sind, related to Haroun al-Rusheed by the celebrated reciter of Tales, Ibn Malook Aleed Iowaudee,” p. 352. | |
| Adventures of the Three Princes of China, Night dccx.-dccxvii | 362 |
| SCOTT: “Adventures of the Three Princes, sons of the Sultan of China.” | |
| History of the first Brave, Night dccxvii.-dccxxii | 385 |
| SCOTT: “The Military Braggadocio;” OUSELEY, “Tier Gallant Officer” and the Lat. list “Miles Gloriosus.” | |
| History of another Brave, Night dccxxii.-dccxxiii | 395 |
| The Merry Adventures of a Simpleton,636 Night dccxxiii.-dccxxvi | 400 |
| SCOTT: “The Idiot and his Asses.” | |
| The Goodwife of Cairo and the three Rakehells, Night dccxxvi.-dccxxviii | 409 |
| Story of the righteous Wazir wrongfully gaoled, Night dccxxviii.-dccxxxviii | 416 |
| Tale of the Barber, the Captain and the Cairene Youth, Night dccxxxiii.-dcxxxvii | 430 |
| (In the Lat. list we find “Tonsor et Juvenis Cahirensis.") | |
| Story of the Goodwife of Cairo and her Gallants, Night dccxxxviii.-dccxliii | 444 |
| SCOTT: “The virtuous Woman of Cairo and her Suitors,” p. 380. | |
| The Kazi’s Tale of the Tailor, the Lady and the Captain,637 Night dccxlii.-dccxlvi | 455 |
| SCOTT: “The Cauzee’s Story,” p. 386. | |
| Story of the Syrian and the Three Women of Cairo, Night dccxlvi-and to end of vol. v | 465 |
Contains 365 pages, from Night dccxlvi. to Night dccclxxiii.
The following is a list of the contents:—
| PAGE | |
| Continuation of the Story of the Syrian, Night dccxlvi.-dccxlix | 1-9 |
| Tale of the Káim-makám’s Lady and her two Coyntes, Night dccxlix.-dcclii | 9 |
| Tale of the whorish Wife who vaunted her virtues, Night dcclii.-dcclv | 18 |
| Cœlebs the Droll638 and his Wife and her four lovers, Night dcclv.-dcclx | 26 |
| SCOTT: “The Deformed Jester.” | |
| The Gate-keeper of Cairo and the wily She-Thief, Night dcclix.-dcclxv | 41 |
| SCOTT: “The aged Watchman of Cairo and the artful female thief.” | |
| Tale of Mohsin and Musa, Night dcclxv.-dcclxxii | 57 |
| SCOTT: “Mhassun the liberal and Mousseh the treacherous Friend.” | |
| Mohammed Shalabí639 and his Wife and the Kazi’s Daughter, Night dcclxxii.-dcclxxvii | 76 |
| SCOTT: “Mahummud Julbee,” etc. | |
| The Fellah and his wicked Wife, Night dcclxxvii.-dcclxxx | 92 |
| The Woman who humoured her Lover at her Husband’s expense, Night dcclxxx.-dcclxxxi | 102 |
| SCOTT: “The Adulteress.” | |
| The Kazi Schooled by his Wife, Night dcclxxxi.-dcclxxxv | 106 |
| The Merchant’s Daughter and the Prince of Al-Irák, Night dccclxv.-dcccxxiv | 118 |
| SCOTT: “Story of the Merchant, his Daughter, and the Prince of Eerauk,” p. 391. In the text we find ‘Irák for Al-Irák. | |
| The Story of Ahmad and Ali who cuckolded their Masters, Night dcccxxiv.-dcccxxix | 225 |
| SCOTT: “The Two Orphans.” | |
| The Fellah and his fair Wife, Night dcccxxix.-dcccxxx | 241 |
| The Youth who would futter his Father’s Wives, Night dcccxxx.-dcccxxxviii | 247 |
| SCOTT: “The Vicious Son, translating the Arab. Al-Ibn al-Fidawi.” | |
| The two Lack-tacts of Cairo and Damascus, including the short ‘Tale of the Egyptian, the Syrian and the Ass,” Night dcccxxxviii.-dcccxl | 261 |
| SCOTT: “The two wits of Cairo and Sind.” | |
| The Tale of Musa and Ibrahim, including Anecdotes of the Berberines, Night dcccxl.-dcccxliii | 271 |
| The Brother Wazirs, Ahmad and Mohammed, Night dcccxiv.-dccclxxiii | 280 |
| And to end of vol. vi | 365 |
Contains 447 pages, from Night dccclxxiii.-mi.
The following is a list of the contents:—
| PAGE | |
| Conclusion of the Brother Wazirs | 1-69 |
| Story of the thieving Youth and his Step-mother, Night dcccxcvii.-cm | 69 |
| The Kazi of Baghdad and his virtuous Wife, Night cm.-cmxi | 77 |
| History of the Sultan who protected the Kazi’s Wife, Night cmxi.-cmxvii | 109 |
| The Sultan of Al-‘Irák, Zunnár ibn Zunnár, Night cmxvii.-cmxxi | 126 |
| Ardashir, Prince of Persia, and the Princess Hayát al-Nufús, daughter of Sultan Kádir, Night cmxxi.-cmlxviii | 139 |
| Story of Shaykh Nakkit the Fisherman, Night cmlxviii.-cmlxxviii | 297 |
| The Sultan of Andalusia, and the Prince of Al-‘Irák who deflowered the Wazir’s daughter; a prose replica of Al-Hayfá and Yusuf. MS. vol. v. 210. Night cmlxxviii.-cmlxxxviii | 329 |
| Tale of Sultan Taylún and the generous Fellah, Night cmlxxxviii | 365 |
| The retired Sage and his Servant-lad, Night cmxcviii | 414 |
| The Merchant’s Daughter who married an Emperor of China, Night cmxcviii.-mi., ending the work | 430-447 |
This MS. terminates The Nights with the last tale and has no especial conclusion relating the marriage of the two brother Kings with the two sisters.
628 Between Nights lxviii. and xci. (p. 401) the Nights are not numbered.
629 Here the numeration begins again.
630 In Ouseley he becomes a “King of Greece.”
631 The Arab. is “Ja’idi”: Scott has “Artizans or Sharpers”: Ouseley, “labourers.”
632 Ouseley has “Story of the first foolish Man.”
633 In the Latin Catalogue he is called Agricola, and by Scott the Husbandman.
634 In Ouseley he now becomes a King of Greece.
635 In Ouseley, “Bint-Ameen.”
636 In Arab. “Rujub al-Mutarmakh,” in the Lat. list “insipicus.”
637 In Ouseley “The Tailor, a story told by the Cauzee.”
638 In Scott “The Deformed Jester,” reading “Al-Ahdab” for “Al-Maskharat al-Azib.”
639 In text “Al-Jalabí,” whence Ouseley and Scott’s “Mahummud Julbee.”
P. 5. — The hippopotamus has also been observed, at the Zoölogical Gardens, to scatter his dung in the manner described.
P. 7. — It is evident from the importance which the author attaches to good birth and heredity, that he would hardly approve of the Socialistic custom, so prevalent in the East, of raising men of low birth to important offices of State.
640 Further notes illustrative of this and the succeeding volumes will be found in the Bibliography in Volume xvi. I frequently refer to tales by their numbers in the Table (Nights, vol. x., pp. 455-472).
P. 10. — In quoting the titles of this and other tales of the Wortley Montague MS., in which the word Ja’ídí frequently occurs, Scott often wrote “labourer” or “artisan” instead of “sharper.” The term “sharper” is hardly applicable here, for the fellows appear really to have possessed the knowledge to which they laid claim. The “sharpers” in this story differ much from such impostors as the Illiterate Schoolmaster (No. 93, vol. v. pp. 119-121), who escapes from his dilemma by his ready wit, or from European pretenders of the type of Grimm’s Dr. Knowall, who escapes from his difficulties by mere accident; or again from our old friend Ma’aruf (No. 169), whose impudent pretensions and impostures are aided by astounding good luck.
P. 13. — This test was similar to that given to Ma’aruf (vol. x. pp. 16,17), but there is nothing in the latter passage to show whether Ma’aruf had any real knowledge of gems, or not. In the present story, the incident of the worm recalls the well-known incident of Solomon ordering worms to pierce gems for Bilkees, the Queen of Sheba.
P. 13. — English schoolboys sometimes play the “trussing game.” Two boys have their wrists and ankles tied together, and their arms are passed over their knees, and a stick thrust over the arms and under the knees, and they are then placed opposite each other on the ground, and endeavour to turn each other over with their toes.
P. 15 note. — Can the word Kashmar be a corruption of Kashmiri?
P. 25. — A few years ago, a travelling menagerie exhibited a pair of dog-faced baboons in Dublin as “two monstrous gorillas!”
P. 28. — Ma’aruf’s jewel has been already referred to. The present incident more resembles the demand made by the king and the wazir from Aladdin and his mother, though that was far more extravagant.
P. 29. — A more terrible form of these wedding disillusions, is when the bridegroom is entrapped into marriage by an evil magician, and wakes in the morning to find the phantom of a murdered body in the place of his phantom bride, and to be immediately charged with the crime. Compare the story of Naerdan and Guzulbec (Caylus’ Oriental Tales; Weber, ii. pp. 632-637) and that of Monia Emin (Gibb’s Story of Jewad, pp. 36, 75). Compare my Appendix, Nights, x. pp. 443, 449, 450.
P. 31. — There is a Western story (one of the latest versions of which may be found in Moore’s Juvenile Poems under the title of “The Ring”) in which a bridegroom on his wedding-day places the ring by accident on the finger of a statue of Venus; the finger closes on it, and Venus afterwards interposes continually between him and his bride, claiming him as her husband on the strength of the ring. The unfortunate husband applies to a magician, who sends him by night to a meeting of cross-roads, where a procession similar to that described in the text passes by. He presents the magician’s letters to the King (the devil in the mediæval versions of the story) who requires Venus to surrender the ring, and with it her claim to the husband.
One of the most curious stories of these royal processions is perhaps the Lithuanian (or rather Samoghitian) story of
Once upon a time a rich farmer lived in a village near Korzian, who was in the habit of going into the wood late in the evening. One evening he went back again into the wood very late, when he distinctly heard the name Zurkielis shouted. He followed the voice, but could not discover from whence the sound proceeded.
On the next evening the farmer went into the wood, and did not wait long before he heard the cry repeated, but this time much louder and more distinctly. On the third evening the farmer went again to the wood; but this time on Valpurgis-night — the Witch’s Sabbath. Suddenly he saw a light appear in the distance; then more lights shone out, and the light grew stronger and stronger; and presently the farmer saw a strange procession advancing, and passing by him. In front of the procession ran a great number of mice of all sorts, each of whom carried a jewel in his mouth which shone brighter than the sun. After these came a golden chariot, drawn by a lion, a bear, and two wolves. The chariot shone like fire, and, instead of nails, it was studded with dazzling jewels. In the chariot sat the King of the Rats and his consort, both clad in golden raiment. The King of the Rats wore a golden crown on his head, and his consort marshalled the procession. After the chariot followed a vast procession of rats, each of whom carried a torch, and the sparks which flew from the torches fell to the earth as jewels. Some of the rats were shouting “Zurkielis” incessantly; and whenever a rat uttered this cry, a piece of gold fell from his mouth. The procession was followed by a great number of fantastic forms, which collected the gold from the ground, and put it into large sacks. When the farmer saw this he also gathered together as much of the gold and jewels as he could reach. Presently a cock crew, and everything vanished. The farmer returned to his house, but the gold and jewels gave him a very tangible proof that the adventure had not been a dream.
A year passed by, and on the next Valpurgis-night the farmer went back to the wood, and everything happened as on the year before. The farmer became immensely rich from the gold and jewels which he collected; and on the third anniversary of the Valpurgis-night he did not go to the wood, but remained quietly at home. He was quite rich enough, and he was afraid that some harm might happen to him in the wood. But on the following morning a rat appeared, and addressed him as follows: “You took the gold and jewels, but this year you did not think it needful to pay our king and his consort the honour due to them by appearing before them during the procession in the wood; and henceforward it will go ill with you.”
Having thus spoken, the rat disappeared; but shortly afterwards such a host of rats took up their abode in the farmer’s house that it was impossible for him to defend himself against them. The rats gnawed everything in the house, and whatever was brought into it. In time the farmer was reduced to beggary, and died in wretchedness.
641 Veckenstedt, Mythen, Sagen und Legenden der Zamaiten, ii. pp. 160,162.
This is a variant of “Woman’s Craft” (No. 184 of our Table), or “Woman’s Wiles,” (Supp. Nights, ii. pp. 99-107). Mr. L. C. Smithers tells me that an English version of this story, based upon Langlès’ translation (Cf. Nights, x. App., p. 440, sub “Sindbad the Sailor”), appeared in the Literary Souvenir for 1831, under the title of “Woman’s Wit.”
Pp. 51-56. — Concerning the Shikk and the Nesnás, Lane writes (1001 Nights, i., Introd. note 21): “The Shikk is another demoniacal creature, having the form of half a human being (like a man divided longitudinally); and it is believed that the Nesnás is the offspring of a Shikk and of a human being. The Shikk appears to travellers; and it was a demon of this kind who killed, and was killed by, ‘Alkamah, the son of Safwán, the son of Umeiyeh, of whom it is well known that he was killed by a Jinnee. So says El-Kazweenee.
“The Nesnás (above-mentioned) is described as resembling half a human being, having half a head, half a body, one arm, and one leg, with which it hops with much agility; as being found in the woods of El-Yemen, and being endowed with speech; ‘but God,’ it is added, ‘is all-knowing.’ (El-Kazweenee in the khatimeh of his work.) It is said that it is found in Hadramót as well as El-Yemen; and that one was brought alive to El-Mutawekkil; it resembled a man in form, excepting that it had but half a face, which was in its breast, and a tail like that of a sheep. The people of Hadramót, it is added, eat it; and its flesh is sweet. It is only generated in their country. A man who went there asserted that he saw a captured Nesnás, which cried out for mercy, conjuring him by God and by himself. (Mi-rát ez-Zemán.) A race of people whose head is in the breast is described as inhabiting an island called Jábeh (supposed to be Java) in the Sea of El-Hind or India; and a kind of Nesnás is also described as inhabiting the Island of Raíj, in the Sea of Es-Seen, or China, and having wings like those of the bat. (Ibn El-Wardee.)” Compare also an incident in the story of Janshah (Nights v. p. 333, and note) and the description of the giant Haluka in Forbes’ translation of the Persian Romance of Hatim Tai (p. 47): “In the course of an hour the giant was so near as to be distinctly seen in shape like an immense dome. He had neither hands nor feet, but a tremendous mouth, situated in the midst of his body. He advanced with an evolving motion, and from his jaws issued volumes of flame and clouds of smoke.” When his reflection was shown him in a mirror, he burst with rage.
I may add that a long-tailed species of African monkey (Cercopithecus Pyrrhonotus) is now known to naturalists as the Nisnas.
I once heard a tale of two Irishmen, one of whom lowered the other over a cliff, probably in search of the nests of sea-fowl. Presently the man at the top called out, “Hold hard while I spit on my hands,” so he loosed the rope for that purpose, and his companion incontinently disappeared with it.
In Scott’s “Story of the Wry-mouthed Schoolmaster” (Arabian Nights vi. pp. 74 75) the schoolmaster crams a boiling egg into his mouth, which the boy smashes.
P. 78. — Scott (vi. p. 403) makes the proclamation read, “Whoever presumes after the first watch of the night to have a lamp lighted in his house, shall have his head struck off, his goods confiscated, his house razed to the ground, and his women dishonoured.” A proclamation in such terms under the circumstances (though not meant seriously) would be incredible, even in the East.
In the Esthonian Kalevipoeg we read of two giants who lay down to sleep on opposite sides of the table after eating a big supper of thick peas-soup. An unfortunate man was hidden under the table, and the consequence was that he was blown backwards and forwards between them all night.
Selling a bull or a cow in the manner described is a familiar incident in folk-lore; and in Rivière’s “Contes Populaires Kabyles” we find a variant of the present story under the title of “L’Idiot et le Coucou.” In another form, the cow or other article is exchanged for some worthless, or apparently worthless, commodity, as in Jack and the Bean-stalk; Hans im Gluck; or as in the case of Moses in the Vicar of Wakefield. The incident of the fool finding a treasure occurs in Cazotte’s story of Xailoun.642
642 Compare, too, Mr. Clouston’s “Book of Noodles,” chap. v., “The Silly Son.”
I have heard an anecdote of a man who was sued for the value of a bond which he had given payable one day after the day of judgment. The judge ruled, “This is the day of judgment, and I order that the bill must be paid to-morrow!”
This story is well known in Europe, though not as forming part of The Nights. Mr. W. A. Clouston informs me that it first appeared in Cardonne’s “Mélanges de littérature orientale” (Paris, 1770). Cf. Nights x. App. pp. 450 and 452.
Such mistakes must be very frequent. I remember once seeing a maid stoop down with a jug in her hand, when she knocked her head against the table. Some one sitting by, thinking it was the jug, observed, “Never mind, there’s nothing in it.”
Another time I was driving out in the country with a large party, and our host got out to walk across to another point. Presently he was missed, and they inquired, “Where is he?” There was a dog lying in the carriage, and one of the party looked round, and not seeing the dog, responded, “Why, where is the dog?”
The present story, though not very important in itself, is interesting as combining some of the features of three distinct classes of folk-tales. One of these is the anti-Jewish series, of which Grimm’s story of the Jew in the Bramble-Bush is one of the most typical examples. According to these tales, any villainy is justifiable, if perpetrated on a Jew. We find traces of this feeling even in Shakespeare, and to this day Shylock (notwithstanding the grievous wrongs which he had suffered at the hands of Christians) rarely gets much sympathy from modern readers, who quite overlook all the extenuating circumstances in his case.643 Nor do we always find the Jew famous for ‘cuteness in folk-tales. This phase of his reputation is comparatively modern, and in the time of Horace, “Credat Judæus” was a Roman proverb, which means, freely translated, “Nobody would be fool enough to believe it except a Jew.”
The present story combines the features of the anti-Jewish tales, the Alaeddin series, and the Grateful Beasts series. (Compare Mr. W. A. Clouston’s remarks on Aladdin, Supp. Nights, App. iii., pp. 371-389; and also his “Tales and Popular Fictions.")
In vol. 53 of the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal (1884, pp. 24-39) I find a Nicobar story which relates how Tiomberombi received a magic mirror from a snake whose enemy he had killed. Its slaves obeyed all his orders if he only put the key into the keyhole, but he was not allowed to open the mirror, as he was too weak to face the spirits openly. He dwelt on an island, but when a hostile fleet came against him, the gunners could not hit it, as the island became invisible. The hostile chief sent an old woman to worm the secret out of Tiomberombi’s wife; the mirror was stolen, and Tiomberombi and his wife were carried off. On reaching land, Tiomberombi was thrown into prison, but he persuaded the rats to fetch him the mirror.644 He destroyed his enemies, went home, and re-established himself on his island, warning his wife and mother not to repeat what had happened, lest the island should sink. They told the story while he was eating; the island sank into the sea, and they were all drowned.
643 Cf. “An Apology for the Character and Conduct of Shylock,” in a volume of Essays published by a Society of Gentlemen in Exeter (1796), pp. 552-573.
644 This incident shews that the story belongs to the Grateful Beasts’ class, though it is not said that Tiomberombi had conferred any benefit on the rats; it is only implied that he understood their language.
This story combines features which we find separately in Nos. 3b (ba); 162 and 198. The first story, the Envier and the Envied, is very common in folk-lore, and has been sometimes used in modern fairy-tales. The reader will remember the Tailor and the Shoemaker in Hans Christian Andersen’s “Eventyr.” Frequently, as in the latter story, the good man, instead of being thrown into a well, is blinded by the villain, and abandoned in a forest, where he afterwards recovers his sight. One of the most curious forms of this story is the Samoghitian
Truth and Injustice lived in the same country, and one day they happened to meet, and agreed to be friends. But as Injustice brought many people into trouble, Truth declared that she would have no more to do with her, upon which Injustice grew angry, and put out the eyes of Truth. Truth wandered about for a long time at random, and at last she came to a walnut-tree, and climbed up it to rest awhile in safety from wild beasts. During the night a wolf and a mouse came to the foot of the tree, and held the following conversation. The wolf began, “I am very comfortable in the land where I am now living, for there are so many blind people there that I can steal almost any animal I like without anybody seeing me. If the blind men knew that they had only to rub their eyes with the moss which grows on the stones here in order to recover their sight, I should soon get on badly with them.”
The mouse responded, “I live in a district where the people have no water, and are obliged to fetch it from a great distance. When they are away from home I can enjoy as much of their provisions as I like; indeed, I can heap together as large a store as I please without being disturbed. If the people knew that they had only to cut down a great oak tree and a great lime tree which grow near their houses, in order to find water, I should soon be badly off.”
As soon as the wolf and the mouse were gone, Truth came down from her tree, and groped about until she found a moss-covered stone, when she rubbed her eyes with the moss. She recovered her sight immediately, and then went her way till she came to the country where most of the people were blind. Truth demanded that the blind people should pay her a fixed sum of money, when she would tell them of a remedy by which they could recover their sight. The blind men gave her the money, and Truth supplied them with the remedy which had cured herself.
After this, Truth proceeded further till she came to the district where the people had no water. She told them that if they would give her a carriage and horses, she would tell them where to find water. The people were glad to agree to her proposal.
When Truth had received the carriage and horses, she showed the people the oak and the lime tree, which they felled by her directions, when water immediately flowed from under the roots in great abundance.
As Truth drove away she met Injustice, who had fallen into poverty, and was wandering from one country to another in rags. Truth knew her immediately, and asked her to take a seat in her carriage. Injustice then recognised her, and asked her how she had received the light of her eyes, and how she had come by such a fine carriage. Truth told her everything, including what she had heard from the wolf and the mouse. Injustice then persuaded her to put out her eyes, for she wanted to be rich, and to have a fine carriage too; and then Truth told her to descend. Truth herself drove away, and seldom shows herself to men.
Injustice wandered about the country till she found the walnut tree, up which she climbed. When evening came, the wolf and the fox met under the tree again to talk. Both were now in trouble, for the wolf could not steal an animal without being seen and pursued by the people, and the mouse could no longer eat meat or collect stores without being disturbed, for the people were no longer obliged to leave their home for a long time to fetch water. Both the wolf and the mouse suspected that some one had overheard their late conversation, so they looked up in search of the listener, and discovered Injustice in the tree. The animals supposed that it was she who had betrayed them, and said in anger, “May our curse be upon you that you may remain for ever blind, for you have deprived us of our means of living.”
After thus speaking, the animals ran away, but Injustice has ever since remained blind, and does harm to everybody who chances to come in her way.
645 Veckenstedt, Mythen, Sagen und Legenden der Zamaiten, i. pp. 163-166.
P. 3. — This mixture of seeds, &c., is a very common incident in folk-tales.
P. 7. — Compare the well-known incident in John xviii. 1-11, which passage, by the way, is considered to be an interpolation taken from the lost Gospel of the Hebrews.
P. 18. — Divination by the flight or song of birds is so universal that it is ridiculous of Kreutzwald (the compiler of the Kalevipoeg) to quote the fact of the son of Kalev applying to birds and beasts for advice as being intended by the composers as a hint that he was deficient in intelligence.
In Bulwer Lytton’s story of the Fallen Star (Pilgrims of the Rhine, ch. xix.) he makes the imposter Morven determine the succession to the chieftainship by means of a trained hawk.
P. 26, note 2. — Scott may possibly refer to the tradition that the souls of the dead are stored up in the trumpet of Israfil, when he speaks of the “receiving angel.”
P. 30, note 2. — I doubt if the story-teller intended to represent Al-Hajjaj as ignorant. The story rather implies that he was merely catechising the youth, in order to entangle him in his talk.
P. 33. — Compare the story of the Sandal-wood Merchant and the Sharpers (Nights, vi. p. 206) in which the Merchant is required to drink up the sea [or rather, perhaps, river], and requires his adversary to hold the mouth of the sea for him with his hand.
P. 38, note 1. — It is well known that children should not be allowed to sleep with aged persons, as the latter absorb their vitality.
P. 77. — In the Danish ballads we frequently find heroes appealing to their mothers or nurses in cases of difficulty. Compare “Habor and Signild,” and “Knight Stig’s Wedding,” in Prior’s Danish Ballads, i. p. 216 and ii. p. 339.
This story belongs to the large category known to students of folk-lore as the Sage and his Pupil; and of this again there are three main groups:
1. Those in which (as in the present instance) the two remain on friendly terms.
2. Those in which the sage is outwitted and destroyed by his pupil (e.g., Cazotte’s story of the Maugraby; or Spitta Bey’s tales, No. 1).
3. Those in which the pupil attempts to outwit or to destroy the sage, and is himself outwitted or destroyed (e.g., The Lady’s Fifth Story, in Gibb’s Forty Vezirs, pp. 76-80; and his App. B. note v., p. 413).
P. 114, note 4. — I believe that a sudden attack of this kind is always speedily fatal.
P. 194, note 2. — It may be worth while to note that Swedenborg asserts that it is unlawful in Heaven for any person to look at the back of the head of another, as by so doing he interrupts the divine influx. The foundation of this idea is perhaps the desire to avoid mesmeric action upon the cerebellum.
The notes on the story of Abu Niyyat and Abu Niyyateen (supra, pp. 356) will apply still better to the present story.
Pp. 305-312. — The case of Tobias and Sara (Tobit, chaps. iii.-viii.) was very similar: but in this instance the demon Asmodeus was driven away by fumigating with the liver and heart of a fish.
I Inscribe This Final Volume
To
The Many Excellent Friends
Who Lent Me Their Valuable Aid In Copying
And Annotating
The Thousand Nights and a Night
This volume has been entitled “THE NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS,” a name now hackneyed because applied to its contents as far back as 1819 in Henry Weber’s “Tales of the East” (Edinburgh, Ballantyne).
The original MS. was brought to France by Al-Káhin Diyánisiás Sháwísh, a Syrian priest of the Congregation of St. Basil, whose name has been Frenchified to Dom Dennis (or Denys) Chavis. He was a student at the European College of Al-Kadís Ithanásiús (St. Athanasius) in Rúmiyah the Grand (Constantinople) and was summoned by the Minister of State, Baron de Breteuil, to Paris, where he presently became “Teacher of the Arabic Tongue at the College of the Sultán, King of Fransá in Bárís (Paris) the Great.” He undertook (probably to supply the loss of Galland’s ivth MS. volume) a continuation of The Nights (proper), and wrote with his own hand the last two leaves of the third tome, which ends with three instead of four couplets: thus he completed Kamar al-Zamán (Night cclxxxi.- cccxxix.) and the following tales:—
The History of the Sleeper and the Waker (Nights cccxxx.-ccclxxix.).
The History of Warlock and the Cook (ccclxxx.-cd.).
The History of the Prisoner in the Bímáristán or Madhouse (cd.-cdxxvii.).
The History of Ghánim the Thrall o’ Love (cdxxviii.-cdlxxiv.).
The History of Zayn al-Asnám and the King of the Jánn (cdlxxv.-cdxci.).
The History of Alaeddin (cdxcii.-dlxix.), and
The History of Ten Wazirs (dlxx.).
The copy breaks off at folio 320, rº in the middle of Night dcxxxi., and the date (given at the end of Night cdxxvii., folio 139) is Shubát (February), A.D. 1787. This is the MS. numbered Supplément Arabe, No. 1716.
In Paris, Dom Chavis forgathered with M. Cazotte, a littérateur of the category “light,” an ingénieux écrivain, distinguished for “gaiety, delicacy, wit and Attic elegance,” and favorably known for (inter alia) his poem “Olivier,” his “Diable Amoureux,” “The Lord Impromptu,” and a travesty of The Nights called “The Thousand and One Fopperies.” The two agreed to collaborate, the Syrian translating the Arabic into French, and the Parisian metamorphosing the manner and matter to “the style and taste of the day”; that is to say, working up an exaggerated imitation, a caricature, of Galland. The work appeared, according to Mr. A. G. Ellis, of the British Museum, who kindly sent me these notes, in Le Cabinet | des Fées, | ou | Collection choisie | des Contes des Fées, | et autres contes merveilleux, | ornés de figures. | Tome trente-huitiéme —(quarante-unième). | A Genève, | chez Bárde, Manget et Compagnie, | Imprimeurs-Libraires. | Et se trouve à Paris | Rue et Hôtel Serpente. | 1788-89, 8º 1. The half-title is Les Veilliées Persanes, and on the second title-page is Les Veilliées | du | Sultan Schahriar, avec | la Sultane Scheherazade; | Histoires incroyables, amusantes, et morales, | traduites de l’Arabe par M. Cazotte et | D. Chavis. Faisant suite aux mille et une Nuits. | Ornées de I2 belles gravures. | Tome premier (— quatrième) | à Genève, | chez Barde, Manget et Comp’ | 1793. This 8vo2 bears the abridged title, La Suite des mille et une Nuits, Contes Arabes, traduits par Dom Chavis et M. Cazotte. The work was printed with illustrations at Geneva and in Paris, MDCCLXXXVIII., and formed the last four volumes (xxxviii.-xli.) of the great Recueil, the Cabinet des Fées, published at Geneva from A.D. 1788 to 1793.
The following is a complete list of the histories, as it appears in the English translation, lengthily entitled, “Arabian Tales; | or, | a Continuation | of the | Arabian Nights Entertainments. | Consisting of | Stories | Related by the | Sultana of the Indies | to divert her Husband from the Performance of a rash vow; | Exhibiting | A most interesting view of the Religion, Laws, | Manners, Customs, Arts, and Literature | of the | Nations of the East, | And | Affording a rich Fund of the most pleasing Amusement, | which fictitious writings can supply. | In Four Volumes | newly translated from the original Arabic into French | By Dom Chavis | a native Arab and M. Cazotte, Member | of the Academy of Dijon. | And translated from the French into English | By Robert Heron. | Edinburgh: | Printed for Bell and Bradfute, J. Dickson, E. Balfour, | and P. Hill, Edinburgh, | and G. G. J. and J. Robinson, London | MDCCXCIl.”
1. The Robber-Caliph; or, adventures of Haroun-Alraschid, with the Princess of Persia and the fair Zutulbe.3
2. The Power of Destiny, or, Story of the Journey of Giafar to Damascus comprehending the Adventures of Chebib (Habíb) and his family.
3. The Story of Halechalbé (Ali Chelebí) and the Unknown Lady; or, the Bimaristan.
4. The Idiot; or, Story of Xailoun.4
5. The Adventures of Simustafa (=“Sí” for Sídí “Mustafa”) and the Princess Ilsatilsone (Lizzat al-Lusún = Delight of Tongues?).
6. Adventures of Alibengiad, Sultan of Herat, and of the False Birds of Paradise.
7. History of Sankarib and his two Viziers.
8. History of the Family of the Schebandad (Shah-bander = Consul) of Surat.
9. The Lover of the Stars: or, Abil Hasan’s Story.
10. History of Captain Tranchemont and his Brave Companions: Debil Hasen’s Story.
11. The Dream of Valid Hasan.
12-23. Story of Bohetzad and his Ten Viziers (with eleven subsidiary tales).5
24. Story of Habib and Dorathal-Goase (=Durrat al-Ghawwás the Pearl of the Diver); or, the Arabian Knight.
25. Story of Illabousatrous (?) of Schal-Goase, and of Camarilzaman.
26. Story of the Lady of the Beautiful Tresses.
27. The History of Habib and Dorathal-Goase; or, the Arabian Knight continued.
28. History of Maugraby (Al Magnrabi=the Moor); or, the Magician.
29. History of Halaiaddin (‘Alá al-Din, Alaeddin, Aladdin), Prince of Persia.
30. History of Yemaladdin (Jamál al-Dín), Prince of Great Katay.
31. History of Baha-Ildur, Prince of Cinigae.
32. History of Badrildinn (Badr al-Dín), Prince of Tartary.
33. History of the Amours of Maugraby with Auhata al-Kawakik ( = Ukht al-Kawákib, Sister of the Planets), daughter of the King of Egypt.
34. History of the Birth of Maugraby.
Of these thirty four only five (MS. iv., vi., vii., xxvii. and xxxii.) have not been found in the original Arabic.
Public opinion was highly favourable to the “Suite” when first issued. Orientalism was at that time new to Europe, and the general was startled by its novelties, e.g. by “Women wearing drawers and trousers like their husbands, and men arrayed in loose robes like their wives, yet at the same time cherishing, as so many goats, each a venerable length of beard.” (Heron’s Preface.) They found its “phænomena so remote from the customs and manners of Europe, that, when exhibited as entering into the ordinary system of human affairs, they could not fail to confer a considerable share of amusive novelty on the characters and events with which they were connected.” (Ditto, Preface.) Jonathan Scott roundly pronounced the continuation a forgery. Dr. Patrick Russell (History of Aleppo, vol. i. 385) had no good opinion of it, and Caussin de Perceval (père, vol. viii., p. 40-46) declared the version éloignée du goût Orientale; yet he re-translated the tales from the original Arabic (Continués, Paris, 1806), and in this he was followed by Gauttier, while Southey borrowed the idea of his beautiful romance, “Thalaba the Destroyer,” now in Lethe from the “History of Maughraby.” Mr. A. G. Ellis considers these tales as good as the old “Arabian Nights,” and my friend Mr. W. F. Kirby (Appendix to The Nights, vol. x. p. 418), quite agrees with him that Chavis and Cazotte’s Continuation is well worthy of republication in its entirety. It remained for the Edinburgh Review, in one of those ignorant and scurrilous articles with which it periodically outrages truth and good taste (No. 535, July, 1886), to state, “Cazotte published his Suite des Mille et une Nuits, a barefaced forgery, in 1785.” A barefaced forgery! when the original of twenty eight tales out of thirty four are perfectly well known, and when sundry of these appear in MSS. of “The Thousand Nights and a Night.”
The following is a list of the Tales (widely differing from those of Chavis and Cazotte) which appeared in the version of Caussin de Perceval.
Les | Mille et une Nuits | Contes Arabes, | Traduits en Francais | Par M. Galland, | Membre de l’Académie des Inscriptions et | Belles-Lettres, Professeur de Langue Arabe | au Collége Royal, | Continués | Par M. Caussin de Perceval, | Professeur de Langue Arabe au Collége Impérial. | Tome huitiéme. | à Paris, | chez Le Normant, Imp.-Libraire, | Rue des Prêtres Saint-Germain-l ‘Auxerrois. | 1806.
1. Nouvelles aventures du calife Haroun Alraschid; ou histoire de la petite fille de Chosroès Anouschirvan.
(Gauttier, Histoire du Khalyfe de Baghdad: vol. vii. II7.)
2. Le Bimaristan, ou histoire du jeune Marchand de Bagdad et de la dame inconnue.
3. Le médécin et le jeune traiteur de Bagdad
4. Histoire du Sage Hicar.
(Gauttier, Histoire du Sage Heycar, vii. 313.)
5. Histoire du roi Azadbakht, ou des dix Visirs.
6. Histoire du marchand devenu malheureux.
7. Histoire du imprudent et de ses deux enfants.
8. Histoire du d’ Abousaber, ou de l’homme patient.
9. Histoire du du prince Behezad.
10. Histoire du roi Dadbin, ou de la vertueuse Aroua.
11. Histoire du Bakhtzeman.
12. Histoire du Khadidan.
13. Histoire du Beherkerd.
14. Histoire du Ilanschah et d’Abouteman.
15. Histoire du Ibrahim et de son fils.
16. Histoire du Soleïman-schah.
17. Histoire du de l’esclave sauve du supplice.
18. Attaf ou l’homme généreux.
(Gauttier, Histoire de l’habitant de Damas, vii. 234.)
19. Histoire du Prince Habib et de Dorrat Algoase.
20. Histoire du roi Sapor, souverain des îles Bellour; de Camar Alzemann, fille du genie Alatrous, et Dorrat
Algoase.
(Gauttier, vii. 64.)
21. Histoire de Naama et de Naam.
22. Histoire du d’Alaeddin.
23. Histoire du d’Abou Mohammed Alkeslan.
24. Histoire du d’Aly Mohammed le joaillier, ou du faux calife.
I need hardly offer any observations upon these tales, as they have been discussed in the preceding pages.
By an error of the late M. Reinaud (for which see p. 39 His toire d’ ‘Alâ al-Din by M. H. Zotenberg, Paris, Imprimerie Na tionale, MDCCCLXXXVIII.) the MS. Supplément Arabe, No. I7I6, in the writing of Dom Chavis has been confounded with No. 1723, which is not written by the Syrian priest but which contains the originals of the Cazotte Continuation as noted by M. C. de Perceval (Les Mille et une Nuits, etc., vol. viii. Préf. p. I7, et seqq.) It is labelled Histoires tirées la plupart des Mille et une Nuits | Supplément Arabe | Volume de 742 pages. The thick quarto measures centimètres 20 ½ long by I6 wide; the binding is apparently Italian and the paper is European, but the filegrane or water-mark, which is of three varieties, a coronet, a lozenge-shaped bunch of circles and a nondescript, may be Venetian or French. It contains 765 pages, paginated after European fashion, but the last eleven leaves are left blank reducing the number written to 742; and the terminal note, containing the date, is on the last leaf. Each page numbers IS lines and each leaf has its catchword (mot de rappel). It is not ordered by “karrás” or quires; but is written upon 48 sets of 4 double leaves. The text is in a fair Syrian hand, but not so flowing as that of No. 1716, by Sháwísh himself, which the well-known Arabist, Baron de Slane, described as Bonne écriture orientale de la fin du XVIII Siècle. The colophon conceals or omits the name of the scribe, but records the dates of incept Kánún IId. (the Syrian winter month January) A.D. 1772; and of conclusion Naysán (April) of the same year. It has head-lines disposed recto and verve, e.g.,
Haykár —————————— Al-Hakím,
and parentheses in the text after European fashion with an imperfect list at the beginning. A complete index is furnished at the end. The following are the order and pagination of the fourteen stories:—
| 1. The King of Persia and his Ten Wazirs | pp. 1 to 62 | 2. Say of the Sage Haykár | 140 | 3. History of King Sabúr and the Three Wise Men | 183 | 4. The Daughter of Kisrà the King (Al Bundukâni) | 217 | 5. The Caliph and the Three Kalandars | 266 | 6. Julnár the Sea born | 396 | 7. The Duenna, the Linguist-dame and the King’s Son | 476 | 8. The Tale of the Warlock and the young Cook of Baghdad | 505 | 9. The Man in the Bímárístan or Madhouse | 538 | 10. The Tale of Attáf the Syrian | 588 | 11. The History of Sultan Habíb and Durrat al-Ghawwás | 628 | 12. The Caliph and the Fisherman | 686 | 13. The Cock and the Fox | 718 | 14. The Fowl-let and the Fowler | 725 to 739 (finis) |
Upon these tales I would be permitted to offer a few observetions. No. i. begins with a Christian formula:—“In the
name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost” (Rúhu’l-Kudus); and it is not translated, because it is a mere
replica of the Ten Wazirs (Suppl. vol. i. 55-151). The second, containing “The Sage Haykár,” which is famous in
folk-lore throughout the East, begins with the orthodox Moslem “Bismillah,” etc. “King Sapor” is prefaced by a
Christian form which to the Trinitarian formula adds, “Allah being One”; this, again, is not translated, because it
repeats the “Ebony Horse” (vol. v. 1). No iv., which opens with the Bismillah, is found in the Sabbágh MS. of The
Nights (see Suppl. vol. iii.) as the Histoire de Haroun al-Raschid et de la descendante de Chosroès.
Albondoqani (Nights lxx.-lxxvii.). No. v., which also has the Moslem invocation, is followed by the “Caliph and
the Three Kalandars,” where, after the fashion of this our MS., the episodes (vol. i., 104-130) are taken bodily from
“The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad” (i. 82), and are converted into a separate History. No. vi. has no title
to be translated, being a replica of the long sea-tale in vol. vii., 264. Nos. vii., viii., ix., x. and xi. lack
initiatory invocation betraying Christian or Moslem provenance. No. viii. is the History of Sí Mustafá and of Shaykh
Shaháb al-Dín in the Turkish Tales: it also occurs in the Sabbágh MS. (Nights ccclxxxvi.-cdviii.). The Bímáristán (No.
ix.), alias Ali Chalabi (Halechalbé), has already appeared in my Suppl. vol. iv. 35. No. xii., “The Caliph and the
Fisherman,” makes Harun al-Rashid the hero of the tale in “The Fisherman and the Jinni” (vol. i. 38); it calls the
ensorcelled King of the Black Islands Mahmúd, and his witch of a wife Sitt al-Mulúk, and it also introduces into the
Court of the Great Caliph Hasan Shumán and Ahmad al-Danaf, the prominent personages in “The Rogueries of Dalílah” (vol.
vii. 144) and its sister tale (vii. 172). The two last Histories, which are ingenious enough, also lack initial
formulæ.
Dr. Russell (the historian of Aleppo) brought back with him a miscellaneous collection comprising —
Al-Bundukani, or the Robber Caliph;
The Power of Destiny (Attaf the Syrian);
Ali Chelebi, or the Bimaristan;
King Sankharib and the Sage Haykar;
Bohetzad (Azádbakht) and the Ten Wazirs; and, lastly,
Habib, or the Arabian Knight.
The Encyclopedia Britannica (ixth edit. of MDCCCLXXVI.), which omits the name of Professor Galland, one of the marking Orientalists in his own day, has not ignored Jacques Cazotte, remarkable for chequered life and noble death. Born in 1720, at Dijon, where his father was Chancellor for the Province of Burgundy, he studied with the Jesuits at home; and, having passed through the finishing process in Paris, he was introduced to public life by the Administration de la Marine. He showed early taste for poetry as well as prose, and composed songs, tales, and an opera —“The Thousand and One Fopperies.” His physique is described as a tall figure, with regular features, expressive blue eyes, and fine hair, which he wore long. At twenty seven he became a commissary in the office and was presently sent as Comptroller to the Windward Islands, including the French Colony Martinique, which then as now was famous for successful woman-kind. At these head-quarters he became intimate with Père Lavalette, Superior of the S. J. Mission, and he passed some years of a pleasant and not unintellectual career. Returning to Paris on leave of absence he fell in with a country-woman and an old family friend, Madame La Poissonnier, who had been appointed head nurse to the Duke of Burgundy; and, as the child in her charge required lulling to sleep, Cazotte composed the favourite romances (ballads), Tout au beau milieu des Ardennes, and Commere II faut chauffer le lit. These scherzi, however, brought him more note than profit, and soon afterwards he returned to Martinique.
During his second term of service Cazotte wrote his heroic comic-poem, the Roman d’Olivier, in twelve cantos, afterwards printed in Paris (2 vols. 8vo, 1765); and it was held a novel and singular composition. When the English first attacked (in 1759) Saint Pierre of Martinique, afterwards captured by Rodney in 1762, the sprightly littérateur showed abundant courage and conduct, but over-exertion injured his health, and he was again driven from his post by sickness. He learned, on landing in France, that his brother, whilome Vicar-General to M. de Choiseul, Bishop of Châlons-sur-Marne, had died and left him a fair estate, Pierry, near Epernay; he therefore resigned his appointment and retired with the title “Commissary General to the Marine.” But presently he lost 50,000 écus — the whole fruit of his economies — by the speculations of Père Lavalette, to whose hands he had entrusted his estates, negroes, and effects at Martinique. These had been sold and the cheques had been forwarded to the owner: the S. J., however, refused to honour them. Hence the scandal of a law-suit in which Cazotte showed much delicacy and regard for the feelings of his former tutors.
Meanwhile Cazotte had married Elizabeth Roignon, daughter to the Chief Justice of Martinique; he returned to the Parisian world with some éclat and he became an universal favourite on account of his happy wit and humour, his bonhomie, his perfect frankness, and his hearty amiability. The vogue of “Olivier” induced him to follow it up with Le Diable Amoureux, a continuation or rather parody of Voltaire’s Guerre civile de Genève: this work was so skilfully carried out that it completely deceived the world; and it was followed by sundry minor pieces which were greedily read. Unlike the esprits forts of his age, he became after a gay youth-tide an ardent Christian; he made the Gospel his rule of life; and he sturdily defended his religious opinions; he had also the moral courage to enter the lists with M. de Voltaire, then the idol-in-chief of the classes and the masses.
In later life Cazotte met Dom Chavis, who was translating into a curious jargon (Arabo-Franco-Italian) certain Oriental tales; and, although he was nearing the Psalmist’s age-term of man, he agreed to “collaborate.” The Frenchman used to take the pen at midnight when returning from “social pleasures,” and work till 4-5 a.m. As he had prodigious facility and spontaneity he finished his part of the task in two winters. Some of the tales in the suite, especially that of “Maugraby,” are attributed wholly to his invention; and, as a rule, his aim and object were to diffuse his spiritual ideas and to write treatises on moral perfection under the form of novelle.
Cazotte, after a well-spent and honourable life, had reason to expect with calmness “the evening and ending of a fine day.” But this was not to be; the Great Revolution had burst like a hurricane over the land, and he was doomed to die a hero’s death. His character was too candid, and his disposition too honest, for times which suggested concealment. He had become one of the Illuminati, and La Harpe ascribed to him the celebrated prophecy which described the minutest events of the Great Revolution. A Royalist pur sang, he freely expressed his sentiments to his old friend Ponteau, then Secretary of the Civil List. His letters came to light shortly after the terrible day, August IO, 1792: he was summarily arrested at Pierry and brought to Paris, where he was thrown into prison. On Sept. 3, when violence again waxed rampant, he was attacked by the patriot-assassins, and was saved only by the devotion of his daughter Elizabeth, who threw herself upon the old man crying, “You shall not reach my father’s heart before piercing mine.” The courage of the noble pair commanded the admiration of the ruffians, and they were carried home in triumph.
For a few weeks the family remained unmolested, but in those days “Providence” slept and Fortune did not favour the brave. The Municipality presently decreed a second arrest, and the venerable littérateur, aged seventy two, was sent before the revolutionary tribunal appointed to deal with the pretended offences of August 10. He was subjected to an interrogatory of thirty-six hours, during which his serenity and presence of mind never abandoned him and impressed even his accusers. But he was condemned to die for the all-sufficient reason:—“It is not enough to be a good son, a good husband, a good father, one must also prove oneself a good citizen.” He spent his last hours wit’. his confessor, wrote to his wife and children, praying his family not to beweep him, not to forget him, and never to offend against their God; and this missive, with a lock of his hair for his beloved daughter, he finally entrusted to the ghostly father. Upon the scaffold he turned to the crowd and cried, “I die as I have lived, truthful and faithful to my God and my King.” His venerable head, crowned with the white honours of age, fell on Sept. 25, 1792.
Cazotte printed many works, some of great length, as the OEuvres Morales, which filled 7 vols. 8vo in the complete edition of 1817; and the biographers give a long list of publications, besides those above-mentioned, romantic, ethical, and spiritual, in verse and in prose. But he wrote mainly for his own pleasure, he never sought fame, and consequently his reputation never equalled his merit. His name, however, still smells sweet, passing sweet, amid the corruption and the frantic fury of his day, and the memory of the witty, genial, and virtuous littérateur still blossoms in the dust.
During my visit to Paris in early 1887, M. Hermann Zotenberg was kind enough to show me the MS., No. 1723, containing the original tales of the “New Arabian Nights.” As my health did not allow me sufficient length of stay to complete my translation, Professor Houdas kindly consented to copy the excerpts required, and to explain the words and phrases which a deficiency of dictionaries and vocabularies at an outlandish port-town rendered unintelligible to me.
In translating a MS., which has never been collated or corrected and which abounds in errors of omission and commission, I have been guided by one consideration only, which is, that my first and chiefest duty to the reader is to make my book readable at the same time that it lays before him the whole matter which the text offered or ought to have offered. Hence I have not hesitated when necessary to change the order of the sentences, to delete tautological words and phrases, to suppress descriptions which are needlessly reiterated, and in places to supply the connecting links without which the chain of narrative is weakened or broken. These are liberties which must be allowed, unless the translator’s object be to produce a mutilated version of a mutilation.
Here also I must express my cordial gratitude to Mr. Alexander J. Cotheal, Consul-General for Nicaragua, in New York. This distinguished Arabist not only sent to me across the seas his MS. containing, inter alia, “The Tale of Attaf,” he also under took to translate it for my collection upon my distinct assurance that its many novelties of treatment deserved an especial version. Mr. W. F. Kirby has again conferred upon my readers an important service by his storiological notes. Lastly, Dr. Steingass has lent me, as before, his valuable aid in concluding as he did in commencing this series, and on putting the colophon to
RICHARD F. BURTON
United Service Club, August 1st, 1888.
1 Tome xii. is dated 1789, the other three, 1788, to include them in the “Cabinet.”
2 The titles of all the vols. are dated alike, 1793, the actual date of printing.
3 This name is not in the Arabic text, and I have vainly puzzled my brains about its derivation or meaning.
4 This P.N. is, I presume, a corruption of “Shawalán”=one falling short. The wife “Oitba” is evidently “Otbá” or “Utbá.”
5 See my Supplemental volume i. pp. 37-116, “The Ten Wazirs; or, the History of King Azádbakht and his Son.”
In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate, the Eternal One, the Termless, the Timeless, and of Him aidance we await. And here we begin (with the assistance of Allah Almighty and his fair furtherance) to invite the Story of Haykar the Sage, the Philosopher, the Wazir of Sankharib7 the Sovran, and of the son of the wise man’s sister Nadan8 the Fool.
They relate that during the days of Sankháríb the King, lord of Asúr9 and Naynawah,10 there was a Sage,
Haykár hight, Grand Wazir of that Sovran and his chief secretary, and he was a grandee of abundant opulence and
ampliest livelihood: ware was he and wise, a philosopher, and endowed with lore and rede and experience. Now he had
interwedded with threescore wives, for each and every of which he had builded in his palace her own bower; natheless he
had not a boy to tend, and was he sore of sorrow therefor. So one day he gathered together the experts, astrologers and
wizards, and related to them his case and complained of the condition caused by his barrenness. They made answer to
him, “Get thee within and do sacrifice to the Godheads and enquire of them and implore their favour when haply shall
they vouchsafe unto thee boon of babe.” He did whatso they bade and set corbans and victims before the images and
craved their assistance, humbling himself with prayer and petition; withal they vouchsafed to him never a word of
reply. So he fared forth in distress and disappointment and went his ways all disheartened. Then he returned in his
humiliation to Almighty Allah11 and confided his secret
unto Him and called for succour in the burning of his heart, and cried with a loud voice saying, “O God of Heaven and
Earth, O Creator of all creatures, I beg Thee to vouchsafe unto me a son wherewith I may console my old age and who may
become my heir, after being present at my death and closing my eyes and burying my body.” Hereat came a Voice from
Heaven which said, “Inasmuch as at first thou trustedst in graven images and offeredst to them victims, so shalt thou
remain childless, lacking sons and daughters. However, get thee up and take to thee Nádán, thy sister’s child; and,
after taking this nephew to son, do thou inform him with thy learning and thy good breeding and thy sagesse, and demise
to him that he inherit of thee after thy decease.” Hereupon the Sage adopted his nephew Nadan, who was then young in
years and a suckling, that he might teach him and train him; so he entrusted him to eight wet-nurses and dry-nurses for
feeding and rearing, and they brought him up on diet the choicest with delicatest nurture and clothed him with sendal
and escarlate12 and dresses dyed with Alkermes,13 and his sitting was upon shag-piled rugs of silk. But when Nadan
grew great and walked and shot up even as the lofty Cedar14
of Lebanon, his uncle taught him deportment and writing and reading15 and philosophy and the omne scibile. Now after a few days Sankharib the King looked upon Haykar
and saw how that he had waxed an old old man, so quoth he to him, “Ho thou excellent companion,16 the generous, the ingenious, the judicious, the sagacious, the Sage, my
Secretary and my Minister and the Concealer of my secrets and the Councillor of my kingdom, seeing how so it be that
thou art aged and well shotten in years and nigh unto thy death and decease, so tell me17 who shall stand in my service after thy demise?” Made answer Haykar, “O my
lord the King, may thy head live for ever and aye! that same shall be this Nadan, son to my sister, whom I have taken
to myself as mine own child and have reared him and have taught him my learning and my experience, all thereof.” “Bring
him to the presence,” quoth the King, “and set him between my hands, that I look upon him; and, if I find him fitting,
I will stablish him in thy stead. Then do thou wend thy ways and off-go from office that thou take thy rest and tend
thine old age, living the lave of thy life in the fairest of honour.” Hereupon Haykar hied him home and carried his
nephew Nadan before the King, who considered him and was pleased with the highmost of pleasure and, rejoicing in him,
presently asked the uncle, “Be this thine adopted son, O Haykar? I pray Allah preserve him; and, even as thou servedst
my sire Sarhádún18 before me, even so shall this thy son do
me suite and service and fulfil my affairs and my needs and my works, to the end that I may honour him and advance him
for the sake of thee.” Thereat Haykar prostrated himself before the presence and said, “May thy head live, O my lord,
for evermore! I desire of thee to extend the wings of thy spirit over him for that he is my son, and do thou be clement
to his errings, so that he may serve thee as besitteth.” The King forthwith made oath that he would stablish the youth
amongst the highmost of his friends and the most worshipful of his familiars and that he should abide with him in all
respect and reverence. So Haykar kissed the royal hands and blessed his lord; then, taking with him Nadan his nephew,
he seated him in privacy and fell to teaching him by night as well as by day, that he might fill him with wisdom and
learning rather than with meat and drink; and he would address him in these terms.19 “O dear my son,20 if a word come to thine ears, suffer it to die within thy heart nor ever disclose it unto
other, lest haply it become a live coal21 to burn up thy
tongue and breed pain in thy body and clothe thee in shame and gar thee despised of God and man. O dear my son, an thou
hear a report reveal it not, and if thou behold a thing relate it not. O dear my son, make easy thine address unto
thine hearers, and be not hasty in return of reply. O dear my son, desire not formal beauty which fadeth and vadeth
while fair report endureth unto infinity. O dear my son, be not deceived by a woman immodest of speech lest her snares
waylay thee22 and in her springes thou become a prey and
thou die by ignominious death. O dear my son, hanker not after a woman adulterated by art, such as clothes and
cosmetics, who is of nature bold and immodest, and beware lest thou obey her and give her aught that is not thine and
entrust to her even that which is in thy hand, for she will robe thee in sin and Allah shall become wroth with thee. O
dear my son, be not like unto the almond-tree23 which
leafeth earlier than every growth and withal is ever of the latest to fruit; but strive to resemble the mulberry-tree
which beareth food the first of all growths and is the last of any to put forth her foliage.24 O dear my son, bow thy head before thine inferior and soften thine
utterance and be courteous and tread in the paths of piety, and shun impudence and louden not thy voice whenas thou
speakest or laughest; for, were a house to be builded by volume of sound, the ass would edify many a mansion every
day.25 O dear my son, the transport of stones with a man of
wisdom is better than the drinking of wine with one blamed for folly. O dear my son, rather pour out thy wine upon the
tombs of the pious than drain it with those who give offence by their insolence. O dear my son, cleave to the sage that
is Allah-fearing and strive to resemble him, and approach not the fool lest thou become like unto him and learn his
foolish ways. O dear my son, whenas thou affectest a friend or a familiar, make trial of him and then company with him,
and without such test nor praise him nor divulge thy thoughts unto one who is other than wise. O dear my son, as long
as thy boot is upon thy leg and foot, walk therewith over the thorns and tread a way for thy sons and thy sons’ sons;
and build thee a boat ere the sea break into billows and breakers and drown thee before thou find an ark of safety. O
dear my son, when the richard eateth a snake, folks shall say that ’tis of his subtilty; but when a pauper feedeth upon
it, the world shall declare ’tis of his poverty. O dear my son, be content with thy grade and thy good, nor covet aught
of thy fellow. O dear my son, be not neighbourly with the ignorant nor do thou break with him bread, and joy not in the
annoy of those about thee and when thy foe shall maltreat thee meet him with beneficence. O dear my son, fear the man
who feareth not Allah and hold him in hate. O dear my son, the fool shall fall when he trippeth; but the wise man when
he stumbleth shall not tumble and if he come to the ground he shall rise up quickly, and when he sickeneth he shall
readily heal himself, whereas to the malady of the ignorant and the stupid there is no remedy. O dear my son, when a
man lesser than thyself shall accost thee, prevent him in standing respectfully before him, and if he suffice thee not
the Lord shall suffice thee in his stead. O dear my son, spare not blows to thy child,26 for the beating of the boy is like manuring to the garden and binding to
the purse-mouth and tethering to the cattle and locking to the door. O dear my son, withhold thy child from wickedness,
and discipline him ere he wax great and become contumacious to thee, thus belittling thee amongst thine equals and
lowering thy head upon the highways and in the assemblies, and thou be described as an aider in his wrongous works. O
dear my son, let no word escape thy lips without consulting thy heart; nor stand up between two adversaries, for out of
converse with the wicked cometh enmity, and from enmity is bred battle, and from battle ariseth slaughter, when thy
testimony shall be required; nay, do thou fly therefrom and be at rest. O dear my son, stand not up against one
stronger than thyself; but possess thy soul in patience and and
long-suffering and forbearance and pacing the paths of piety, for than this naught is more excellent. O dear my son,
exult not over the death of thy enemy by cause that after a little while thou shalt become his neighbour. O dear my
son, turn thou a deaf ear to whoso jeereth thee, and honour him and forego him with the salam-salutation. O dear my
son, whenas the water shall stand still in stream and the bird shall fly sky-high and the black raven shall whiten and
myrrh shall wax honey-sweet, then will the ignorant and the fool comprehend and converse. O dear my son, an thou would
be wise restrain thy tongue from leasing and thy hand from thieving and thine eyes from evil glancing; and then, and
then only, shalt thou be called a sage. O dear my son, suffer the wise man strike thee with his staff rather than the
fool anoint thee with his sweetest unguent.27 O dear my
son, be thou humble in thy years of youth, that thou may be honoured in thine old age. O dear my son, stand not up
against a man in office and puissance nor against a river in its violence, and haste not in matters of marriage; for,
an this bring weal, folk will not appraise thee and if ill they will abuse thee and curse thee. O dear my son, company
with one who hath his hand fulfilled and well-furnisht and associate not with any whose hand is fist-like and famisht.
O dear my son, there be four things without stability: a king and no army,28 a Wazir in difficulty for lack of rede; amongst the folks villainy and over the lieges tyranny.
Four things also may not be hidden; to wit, the sage and the fool, the richard and the pauper.”29 Now when Haykar had made an end of these injunctions and instances addrest
to Nadan his nephew, he fondly deemed in mind that the youth would bear in memory all his charges, and he wist not that
the clean contrary thereof to him would become manifest. After this the older Minister sat in peace at home and
committed to the younger all his moneys and his negro slaves and his concubines; his horses and camels, his flocks and
herds, and all other such whereof he was seized. Also bidding and forbiddal were left in the youth’s hand and he was
promoted and preferred by the monarch like his maternal uncle and even more, whilst the ex-Wazir took his rest in
retirement, nor was it his habit to visit the King save once after a while, when he would fare forth to salute him with
the salam and forthwith return home. But when Nadan made sure of all commandment being in his own hand, he jeered in
public at his uncle and raised his nose at him and fell to blaming him whenever he made act of presence and would say,
“Verily Haykar is in age and dotage and no more he wotteth one thing from other thing.” Furthermore he fell to beating
the negro slaves and the handmaidens, and to vending the steeds and dromedaries and applied him wilfully to waste all
that appertained to his uncle who, when he saw this lack of ruth for the chattels and the household, incontinently
drove him ignominiously from his place. Moreover he sent to apprize the King thereof; to wit, that he would
assuredly30 resume all his belongings and provision; and
his liege, summoning Nadan, said to him, “So long as Haykar, shall be in life, let none lord it over his household or
meddle with his fortune.” On this wise the youth’s hand was stayed from his uncle and from all his good and he ceased
to go in to him and come out from him, and even to accost him with the salam. Presently Haykar repented of the pains
and the trouble he had taken with Nadan and he became perplext exceedingly. Now the youth had a younger brother,
Naudan31 hight, so Haykar adopted him in lieu of the other
and tendered him and honoured him with highmost honour and committed to him all his possessions and created him
comptroller of his household and of his affairs. But when the elder brother beheld what had betided him, he was seized
with envy and jealousy and he fell to complaining before all who questioned him, deriding his benefactor; and he would
say, “Verily my maternal uncle hath driven me from his doors and hath preferred my brother before me; but, an Almighty
Allah empower me, I will indeed cast him into doom of death.” Hereat he fell to brooding over the ruin of his relative,
and after a long while he went, one day of the days, and wrote a letter to Akhyash Abná Sháh,32 physician to the King of Persia and ‘Ajam or Barbaria-land, and the
following were its contents. “All salams that befit and greetings that are meet from part of Sankharib, King of Assyria
and Niniveh, and from his Wazir and Secretary Haykar unto thee, O glorious monarch, and salutations be betwixt me and
thee. And forthright, when this missive shall have reached thee, do thou arise in haste and come to meet me and let our
trysting-place be the Buk’at Nisrín, the Lowland of the Eglantine33 of Assyria and Niniveh, that I may commit to thee the kingdom sans fight or fray.” Furthermore
he wrote a second letter in Haykar’s name to Pharaoh,34
lord of Misraim,35 with this purport:36—“Greetings between me and thee, O mighty potentate; and do thou
straightway, on receipt of this epistle, arise and march upon the Buk’at Nisrin to the end that I make over to thee the
kingdom without battle or slaughter.” Now Nadan’s handwriting was the likest to that of his mother’s brother. Then he
folded the two missives and sealed them with Haykar’s signet and cast them into the royal palace, after which he went
and indited a letter in the King’s name to his uncle, saying. —“All salutations to my Wazir and Secretary and Concealer
of my secret, Haykar; and do thou forthright on receipt of this present levy thy host and all that be under thee with
arms and armour complete, and march them to meet me on fifth-day37 at the Buk’at Nisrin. Moreover, when thou see me approach thee make thy many prepare for mimic
onset as they were my adversaries and offer me sham fight; for that messengers from Pharaoh, King of Egypt, have been
sent to espy the strength of our armies. Accordingly, let them stand in fear of us, for that they be our foes and our
haters.” Presently, sealing this epistle, he sent it to Haykar by one of the royal pages and himself carrying the other
letters he had addressed to the Persian and the Egyptian, he laid them before the King and read them aloud and showed
their seals. But when Sankharib heard their contents he marvelled with mighty great marvel and raged with exceeding
rage and cried out, saying, “What is it I have done unto Haykar that he should write such a writ to mine adversaries?
Is this my reward for all the benefits I have lavished upon Haykar?” The other replied, “Be not grieved, O King, and
sorrow not, nor be thou an-angered: rather let us fare on the morrow to the Buk’at Nisrin and look into the matter,
whether it be fact or falsehood.” So when Thursday came, Nadan arose, and taking the King and his Wazirs and
army-officers marched them over the wastes to the Lowland of the Eglantine, and arrived there Sankharib, the Sovran,
looked upon Haykar and saw his host aligned in battle against himself. And when the ex-Minister beheld his King
approaching, he bade his host stir for battle and prepare to smite the opposing ranks; to wit, those of his liege lord,
even as he had been commanded by royal rescript, nor did he ken what manner of pit had been digged for him by Nadan.
But seeing this sight the monarch was agitated and consterned and raged with mighty great wrath. Then quoth Nadan,
“Seest thou, O King, what this sorry fellow hath done? But chafe not, neither be thou sorrowful, but rather do thou
retire to thy palace, whither I will presently bring to thee Haykar pinioned and bearing chains; and I will readily and
without trouble fend off from thee thy foe.” So when Sankharib hied him home in sore anger with that which his ancient
Minister had done, Nadan went to his uncle and said, “Indeed the King hath rejoiced with exceeding joy, and thanketh
thee for acting as he bade thee, and now he hath despatched me to order that thy men be bidden to wend their ways, and
that thou present thyself before him pinioned and fettered to the end that thou be seen in such plight of the envoys
sent by Pharaoh concerning whom and whose master our Monarch standeth in fear.” “To hear is to obey!” replied Haykar,
and forthwith let pinion his arms and fetter his legs; then, taking with him Nadan, his nephew, he repaired to the
presence, where he found the King perusing the other forged letter also sealed with the ministerial signet. When he
entered the throne-room he prostrated himself, falling to the ground upon his face, and the Sovran said to him, “O
Haykar, my Viceregent and Secretary and Concealer of my secret and Councillor of my kingdom, say me, what have I
wrought thee of wrong that thou shouldst requite me with such hideous deed?” So saying he showed him the two papers
written in the handwriting and sealed with the seal of the accused who, when he looked upon them, trembled in every
limb, and his tongue was knotted for a while, nor could he find power to speak a word, and he was reft of all his
reason and of his knowledge. Wherefor he bowed his brow groundwards and held his peace. But when the King beheld this
his condition, he bade them slay him by smiting his neck without the city, and Nadan cried aloud, “O Haykar, O
blackavice, what could have profited thee such trick and treason that thou do a deed like this by thy King?”38 Now the name of the Sworder was Abú Sumayk the Pauper,39 and the monarch bade him strike the neck of Haykar in front of
the Minister’s house-door and place his head at a distance of an hundred ells from his body.40 Hearing this Haykar fell prone before the King and cried, “Live thou, O my
lord the King, for ever and aye! An thou desire my death be it as thou wilt and well I wot that I am not in default and
that the evil-doer exacteth according to his ill-nature.41
Yet I hope from my lord the King and from his benevolence that he suffer the Sworder make over my corpse to my menials
for burial, and so shall thy slave be thy sacrifice.” Hereat the Monarch commanded the Headsman do as he was desired,
and the man, accompanied by the royal pages, took Haykar, whom they had stripped of his outer raiment, and led him away
to execution. But when he was certified of coming death, he sent tidings thereof to his wife, Shaghaftíní42 hight, adding, “Do thou forthright come forth to meet me escorted by a
thousand maiden girls, whom thou shalt habit in escarlate and sendal, that they may keen over me ere I perish; moreover
dispread for the Headsman and his varlets a table of food and bring an abundance of good wine that they may drink and
make merry.”43 Haykar’s wife presently obeyed his orders
for she also was ware and wise, sharp-witted, experienced and a compendium of accomplishments and knowledge. Now when
the guards44 and the Sworder and his varlets came to
Haykar’s door, they found the tables laid out with wine and sumptuous viands; so they fell to eating and drinking till
they had their sufficiency and returned thanks to the housemaster.45 Thereupon Haykar led the Headsman aside into privacy and said to him, “O Abu Sumayk,46 what while Sarhadun the King, sire of Sankharib the King,
determined to slay thee, I took thee and hid thee in a place unknown to any until the Sovran sent for thee. Moreover I
cooled his temper every day till he was pleased to summon thee, and when at last I set thee in his presence he rejoiced
in thee. Therefore do thou likewise at this moment bear in mind the benefits I wrought thee, and well I wot that the
King will repent him for my sake and will be wroth with exceeding wrath for my slaughter, seeing that I be guiltless;
so when thou shalt bring me alive before him thy degree shall become of the highest. For know thou that Nadan my nephew
hath betrayed me and devised for me this ill device; and I repeat that doubtless my lord will presently rue my ruin.
Learn, too, that beneath the threshold of my mansion lieth a souterrain whereof no man is ware: so do thou conceal me
therein with the connivance of my spouse Shaghaftini. Also I have in my prison a slave which meriteth doom of
death:47 so bring him forth and robe him in my robes; then
bid the varlets (they being drunken with wine) do him die, nor shall they know whom they have slain. And lastly command
them to remove his head an hundred cubits from his body and commit the corpse unto my chattels that they inter it. So
shalt thou store up with me this rich treasure of goodly deeds.” Hereupon the Sworder did as he was bidden by his
ancient benefactor, and he and his men repairing to the presence said, “Live thy head, O King, for ever and
aye!”48 And after this Shaghaftini, the wife of Haykar,
brought meat and drink to her husband down in the Matamor,49 and every Friday she would provide him with a sufficiency for the following week without the
weeting of anyone. Presently the report was spread and published and bruited abroad throughout Assyria and Niniveh how
Haykar the Sage had been done to die and slain by his Sovran; and the lieges of all those regions, one and all,
keened50 for him aloud and shed tears and said, “Alas for
thee, O Haykar, and alack for the loss of thy lore and thy knowledge! Woe be to us for thee and for thy experience!
Where now remaineth to find thy like? where now shall one intelligent, understanding and righteous of rede resemble
thee and stand in thy stead?” Presently the King fell to regretting the fate of Haykar whereof repentance availed him
naught: so he summoned Nadan and said to him, “Fare forth and take with thee all thy friends to keen and make
ceremonious wailings for thy maternal uncle Haykar and mourn, according to custom, in honour of him and his memory.”
But Nadan, the fool, the ignorant, the hard of heart, going forth the presence to show sorrow at his uncle’s house,
would neither mourn nor weep nor keen; nay, in lieu thereof he gathered together lewd fellows and fornicators who fell
to feasting and carousing. After this he took to himself the concubines and slaves belonging to his uncle, whom he
would scourge and bastinado with painful beating; nor had he any shame before the wife of his adopted father who had
entreated him as her son; but solicited her sinfully to lie with him. On the other hand Haykar, who lay perdu in his
Silo, ever praised Allah the Compassionate,51 and returned
thanks unto Him for saving his life and was constant in gratitude and instant in prayer and in humbling himself before
God. At times after due intervals the Sworder would call upon him to do him honour due and procure him pleasure, after
which he would pray for his release and forthright gang his gait. Now when the bruit spread abroad over all the lands
how that Haykar the Wise had been done to die, the rulers everywhere rejoiced, exulting in the distress of King
Sankharib who sorely regretted the loss of his Sage. Presently, awaiting the fittest season, the Monarch of Misraim
arose and wrote a writ to the Sovran of Assyria and Niniveh of the following tenor:—“After salams that befit and
salutations that be meet and congratulations and veneration complete wherewith I fain distinguish my beloved brother
Sankharib the King, I would have thee know that I am about to build a bower in the air between firmament and terra
firma; and I desire thee on thy part to send me a man which is wise, a tried and an experienced, that he may help me to
edify the same: also that he make answer to all the problems and profound questions I shall propose, otherwise thou
shalt deposit with me the taxes in kind52 of Assyria and
Niniveh and their money-tributes for three years.” Then he made an end of his writ and, sealing it with his
signet-ring, sent it to its destination. But when the missive reached Sankharib, he took it and read it, he and his
Wazirs and the Lords of his land; and all stood perplext thereat and sore confounded; whilst the King waxed furious
with excessive fury, and he was distraught as to what he should do and how he should act. Anon, however, he gathered
together all the Shaykhs and Elders and the Olema and doctors of law and the physicists and philosophers and the
charmers53 and the astrologers and all such persons which
were in his realm, and he let read the epistle of Pharaoh in their presence. Then he asked them, saying, “Who amongst
you shall repair to the court of Pharaoh, lord of Misraim, and reply to his interrogations?” But they cried, “O our
lord the King, do thou know there be no one who can loose the knot of these difficulties save only thy Wazir Haykar;
and now that none shall offer an answer save Nadan, the son of his sister, whom he hath informed with all his subtilty
and his science. Therefore, do thou summon him and haply he shall unravel for thee a tangled skein so hard to untwist.”
Sankharib did as they advised, and when Nadan appeared in the presence said to him, “Look thou upon this writ and
comprehend its contents.” But when the youth read it he said to the Sovran, “O my lord the King, leave alone this folk
for they point to impossibilities: what man can base a bower upon air between heaven and earth?” As soon as King
Sankharib heard these words of Nadan, he cried out with a mighty outcry and a violent; then, stepping down from his
throne, he sat upon ashes54 and fell to beweeping and
bewailing the loss of Haykar and crying, “Alas, for me and woe worth the day for thee, O Caretaker of my capital and
Councillor of my kingdom! Where shall I find one like unto thee, O Haykar? Harrow now for me, O Haykar, Oh Saviour of
my secret and Manifester of my moot-points, where now shall I fare to find thee? Woe is me for sake of thee whom I slew
and destroyed at the word of a silly boy! To him indeed who could bring Haykar before me or who could give me the glad
tidings of Haykar being on life, I would give the half of my good; nay, the moiety of my realm. But whence can this
come? Ah me, O Haykar; happy was he who looked upon thee in life that he might take his sufficiency of thy semblance
and fortify himself55 therefrom. Oh my sorrow for thee to
all time! Oh my regret and remorse for thee and for slaying thee in haste and for not delaying thy death till I had
considered the consequence of such misdeed.” And the King persisted in weeping and wailing night and day on such wise.
But when the Sworder56 beheld the passion of his lord and
his yearning and his calling upon Haykar, he came to the presence and prostrated himself and said, “O my lord, bid thy
varlets strike off my head!” Quoth the Monarch, “Woe to thee, what be thy sin?” and quoth the Headsman, “O my lord,
what slave ever contrarieth the command of his master let the same be slain, and I verily have broken thy behest.” The
King continued, “Fie upon thee,57 O Abu Sumayk, wherein
hast thou gainsaid me?” and the other rejoined, “O my lord, thou badest me slay the Sage Haykar; but well I wotted that
right soon indeed thou wouldst regret the death of him, and the more so for that he was a wronged man; accordingly I
fared forth from thee and hid him in a place unbekncwn to any and I slew one of his slaves in his stead. And at this
moment Haykar is alive and well; and if thou bid me, I will bring him before thee when, if thou be so minded, do thou
put me to death, otherwise grant me immunity.” Cried the King, “Fie upon thee, O Abu Sumayk, how durst thou at such
time make mock of me, I being thy lord?” but the Sworder replied, “By thy life and the life of thy head, O my lord, I
swear that Haykar is alive and in good case!” Now when the Monarch heard these words from the Sworder and was certified
by him of the matter, he flew for very gladness and he was like to fall a-swoon for the violence of his joy. So he bade
forthright Haykar be brought to him and exclaimed to the Sworder, “O thou righteous slave an this thy say be soothfast,
I am resolved to enrich thee and raise thy degree amongst all my companions;” and so saying and rejoicing mightily he
commanded the Sworder set Haykar in the presence. The man fared to the Minister’s house forthright, and opening the
souterrain went downstairs to the tenant whom he found sitting and praising Allah and rendering to Him thanksgivings;
so he cried out and said, “O Haykar, the blessedest of bliss hath come to thee, and do thou go forth and gladden thy
heart!” Haykar replied, “And what is to do?” whereat the man told him the whole tale, first and last, of what had
befallen his lord at the hands of Pharaoh; then, taking him, led him to the presence. But when Sankharib considered
him, he found him as one clean wasted by want; his hair had grown long like the pelts of wild beasts and his nails were
as vulture’s claws and his members were meagre for the length of time spent by him in duresse and darkness, and the
dust had settled upon him and changed his colour which had faded and waxed of ashen hue. So his lord mourned for his
plight and, rising up in honour, kissed him and embraced him and wept over him saying, “Alhamdolillah — laud to the
Lord — who hath restored thee to me on life after death!” Then he fell to soothing his sorrows and consoled him,
praying pardon of him the while; and after bestowing robes of honour upon the Sworder and giving him due guerdon and
lavishing upon him abundant good, he busied himself about the recovery of Haykar, who said, “O my lord the King, may
thy head live for ever and aye! All this wrong which befel me is the work of the adulterines, and I reared me a
palm-tree against which I might prop me, but it bent and brought me to the ground: now, however, O my lord and master,
that thou hast deigned summon me before thee, may all passion pass away and dolour depart from thee!” “Blessed and
exalted be Allah,” rejoined Sankharib, “who hath had ruth upon thee, and who, seeing and knowing thee to be a wronged
man, hath saved thee and preserved thee from slaughter.58
Now, however, do thou repair to the Hammam and let shave thy head and pare thy nails and change thy clothes; after
which sit at home in ease for forty days’ space that thy health be restored and thy condition be righted and the hue of
health return to thy face; and then (but not till then) do thou appear before me.” Hereupon the King invested him with
sumptuous robes, and Haykar, having offered thanks to his liege lord, fared homewards in joyaunce and gladness
frequently ejaculating, “Subhána ‘llahu ta’álá–God Almighty be glorified!” and right happy were his household and his
friends and all who had learned that he was still on life. Then did he as the King had bidden him and enoyed his rest
for two-score days, after which he donned his finest dress and took horse, followed and preceded by his slaves, all
happy and exulting, and rode to Court, while Nadan the nephew, seeing what had befallen, was seized with sore fear and
affright and became perplexed and unknowing what to do. Now, when Haykar went in and salamed to the King, his lord
seated him by his side and said, “O my beloved Haykar, look upon this writ which was sent to me by the King of Misraim
after hearing of thy execution; and in very deed they, to wit he and his, have conquered and chastised and routed most
of the folk of our realm, compelling them to fly for refuge Egyptwards in fear of the tax-tribute which they have
demanded of us.” So the Minister took the missive and, after reading and comprehending the sum of its contents, quoth
he to the King, “Be not wroth, O my lord: I will repair in person to Egypt and will return a full and sufficient reply
to Pharaoh, and I will explain to him his propositions and will bring thee from him all the tax-tribute he demandeth of
thee: moreover, I will restore all the lieges he hath caused fly this country and I will humiliate every foe of thee by
aidance of Almighty Allah and by the blessings of thy Majesty.” Now when the Sovran heard this answer, he rejoiced and
his heart was gladdened; whereupon he gifted Haykar with a generous hand and once more gave immense wealth to the
Sworder. Presently the Minister said, “Grant me a delay of forty days that I ponder this matter and devise a sufficient
device.” As soon as Sankharib granted him the required permission he returned homewards and, summoning his huntsmen,
bade them catch for him two vigorous young vultures;59 and,
when these were brought, he sent for those who twist ropes and commanded them make two cords of cotton each measuring
two thousand ells. He also bade bring him carpenters and ordered them to build for him two coffers of large size, and
as soon as his bidding was done he chose out two little lads, one hight Binúhál and the other Tabshálím.60 Then every day he would let slaughter a pair of lambs and therewith
feed the children and the vultures, and he mounted those upon the back of these, binding them tight, and also making
fast the cords to the legs of the fowls. He would then allow the birds to rise little by little, prolonging the flight
every day to the extent of ten cubits, the better to teach and to train them; and they learnt their task so well that
in a short time they would rise to the full length of the tethers till they soared in the fields of air with the boys
on their backs, after which he would let hale them down. And when he saw them perfect in this process, he taught the
lads to utter loud shouts what while they reached the full length of the cords and to cry out, “Send us stones and
mud61 and slaked lime that we may build a bower for King
Pharaoh, inasmuch as we now stand here all the day idle!” And Haykar ceased not to accustom them and to instruct them
until they became dexterous in such doings as they could be. Then he quitted them and presenting himself before King
Sankharib said, “O my lord, the work is completed even as thou couldst desire; but do thou arise and come with me that
I may show thee the marvel.” Thereupon the King and his courtiers accompanied Haykar to a wide open space outside the
city whither he sent for the vultures and the lads; and after binding the cords he loosed them to soar as high as the
lanyards allowed in the firmament-plain, when they fell to outcrying as he had taught them. And lastly he haled them in
and restored them to their steads. Hereat the King wondered, as did all his suite, with extreme wonderment, and kissing
his Minister between his eyes, robed him in an honourable robe and said to him, “Go forth in safety, O my beloved, and
boast of my realm, to the land of Egypt62 and answer the
propositions of Pharaoh and master him by the power of Almighty Allah;” and with these words farewelled him.
Accordingly Haykar took his troops and guards, together with the lads and the vultures, and he fared forth intending
for Egypt where on arrival he at once made for the royal Palace. And when the folk of the capital understood that
Sankharib the King had commissioned a man of his notables to bespeak their Sovran the Pharaoh, they entered and
apprized their liege lord who sent a party of his familiars summoning him to the presence. Presently Haykar the Sage
entered unto Pharaoh; and after prostration as befitteth before royalty said, “O my lord, Sankharib the King greeteth
thee with many salutations and salams; and hath sent me singlehanded sans other of his slaves, to the end that I answer
thy question and fulfil whatso thou requirest and I am commanded to supply everything thou needest; especially inasmuch
as thou hast sent to the Monarch my master for the loan of a man who can build thee a bower between firmament and terra
firma; and I, by the good aidance of Allah Almighty and of thine august magnanimity, will edify that same for thee even
as thou desirest and requirest. But this shall be upon the condition stablished concerning the tax-tribute of Misraim
for three years, seeing that the consent of the Kings be their fullest securities. An thou vanquish me and my hand fall
short and I fail to answer thee, then shall my liege lord send thee the tax-tribute whereof thou speakest; but if I
bring thee all thou needest, then shalt thou forward to my lord the tax-tribute thou hast mentioned and of him
demanded.” Pharaoh, hearing these words, marvelled and was perplexed at the eloquence of his tongue and the sweetness
of his speech and presently exclaimed, “O man, what may be thy name?” The other replied, “Thy slave is hight
Abíkám;63 and I am an emmet of the emmets under Sankharib
the King.” Asked Pharaoh, “Had not thy lord one more dignified of degree than thou, that he sent unto me an ant to
answer me and converse with me?” and Haykar answered, “I humbly hope of the Almighty that I may satisfy all which is in
thy heart, O my lord; for that Allah is with the weakling the more to astounding the strangling.” Hereat Pharaoh gave
orders to set apart for Abikam his guest an apartment, also for the guards and all that were with him and provide them
with rations and fodder of meat and drink, and whatso was appropriate to their reception as properest might be. And
after the usual three days of guest-rite64 the King of
Egypt donned his robes of brightest escarlate; and, having taken seat upon his throne, each and every Grandee and Wazir
(who were habited in the same hue) standing with crossed arms and feet joined,65 he sent a summons to produce before him Haykar, now Abikam hight. Accordingly he entered and
prostrated in the King’s presence and stood up to receive the royal behest, when Pharaoh after a long delay asked him,
“O Abikam, whom do I resemble and what may these my Lords and Ministers represent?” Hereto the envoy answered saying,
“O my lord, thou favourest Bel the idol66 and thy
chief-cains favour the servitors thereof!” Then quoth the King, “Now do thou depart and I desire thee on the morrow
come again.” Accordingly Abikam, which was Haykar, retired as he was ordered, and on the next day he presented himself
before Pharaoh and after prostrating stood between his hands. The King was habited in a red coat of various tincts and
his mighty men were garbed in white, and presently he enquired saying, “O Abikam, whom do I resemble and what may these
my Lords and Ministers represent?” He replied, “O my lord, thou art like unto the sun and thy nobles are like the rays
thereof!” Then quoth the King, “Do thou retire to thy quarters and tomorrow come hither again.” So the other fared
forth and Pharaoh commanded and charged his head men to don pure white, himself doing the same; and, having taken seat
upon his throne, he bade Abikam be brought into the presence and when he appeared asked him, “Whom do I resemble, and
what may these my Grandees represent?” He replied, “O my lord, thou favourest the moon and thy servitors and guards
favour the stars and planets and constellations.” Then quoth the King, “Go thou until the morrow when do thou come
hither again;” after which he commanded his Magnates to don dresses of divers colours and different tincts whilst he
wore a robe of ruddy velvet. Anon he seated him upon his throne and summoned Abikam, who entered the presence and
prostrated and stood up before him. The King for a fourth time asked him, “O Abikam, whom do I resemble and what may
these my guards represent?” and he answered, “O my lord, thou art like the auspicious month Naysán,67 and thy guards and grandees are like the white chamomile68 and his bloom.” Hearing these words Pharaoh rejoiced with extreme joy and
said, “O Abikam, thou hast compared me first with Bel the idol, secondly with the sun and thirdly with the moon and
lastly with the auspicious month Naysan, and my lords with the chamomile and his flower. But say me now unto what
likenest thou Sankharib thy lord, and what favour his Grandees?” Haykar made answer, “Heaven forfend I mention my liege
lord the while thou sittest on thy throne; but rise to thy feet, and I will inform thee what my Master representeth and
what his court most resembleth.” Pharaoh, struck with astonishment at such heat of tongue and valiancy of speech, arose
from his seat and stood facing Haykar and presently said, “Now tell me that I may learn what thy lord resembleth and
what his Grandees represent.” The other made reply, “My lord resembleth the God of Heaven, and his lords represent the
Lightning and Thunder. An it be his will the winds do blow and the rains do fall; and, when he deign order, the leven
playeth and the thunder roareth and at his behest the sun would refuse light and the moon and stars stand still in
their several courses. But he may also command the storm-wind to arise and downpours to deluge when Naysan would be as
one who beateth the bough69 and who scattereth abroad the
blooms of the chamomile.” Pharaoh hearing these words wondered with extreme wonderment, then raging with excessive rage
he cried, “O man, tell me the real truth and let me know who thou art in very sooth.” “I am Haykar,” quoth the other,
“Chief Secretary and especial to Sankharib the King; also his Wazir and Councillor of his kingdom and Keeper of his
secret.” “Thou statest fact, O Sage,” quoth Pharaoh, “and this thy say is veridical: yet have we heard that Haykar is
dead indeed, withal here art thou alive and alert.” The Minister replied, “Yea, verily that was the case, but
Alhamdolillah — Glory to God, who knoweth all hidden things, my master had in very deed doomed me die believing the
reports of certain traitors, but my Lord preserved me and well done to him who relieth upon the Almighty!” Then quoth
Pharaoh, “Go forth and on the morrow do thou return hither and say me somewhat no man hath ever heard, nor I nor my
Grandees nor any of the folk in my kingdom and my capital.” Accordingly Haykar hied him home and penned a paper wherein
he said as follows: “From Sankharib, King of Assyria and Naynawah, to Pharaoh King of Misraim:— Peace be upon thee, O
my brother! As well thou wottest, brother needeth brother and the Kings require the aidance of other Kings and my hope
from thee is that thou wilt lend70 me the loan of nine
hundred-weight71 of gold which I require to expend on the
pay and allowances due to certain of my soldiery wherewith to provide for them the necessaries of life.” After this he
folded the writ and despatched it by a messenger on the next day to Pharaoh, who perused it and was perplext and
exclaimed, “Verily and indeed never till now have I heard a saying like unto this at all, nor hath anyone ever
spoken72 to me after such fashion!” Haykar replied, “’Tis
fact, and ’tis well an thou own thee debtor of such sum to my lord the King.” Pharaoh accepted this resolving of his
proposition and said, “O Haykar, ’tis the like of thee who suiteth the service of the Kings, and blessed be Allah who
perfected thee in wisdom and adorned thee with philosophy73
and knowledge. And now remaineth to us only one need of thee; to wit, that thou build us a bower between firmament and
terra firma.” Haykar replied, “Hearkening and obeying! I will edify it for thee e’en as thou wishest and thou choosest;
but do thou get ready for me gypsum lime and ashlar-stone and brick-clay and handicraftsmen, while I also bring
architects and master masons and they shall erect for thee whatso thou requirest.” So King Pharaoh gat ready all this
and fared forth with his folk to a spacious plain without the city whither Haykar and his pages had carried the boys
and the vultures; and with the Sovran went all the great men of his kingdom and his host in full tale that they might
look upon the wonder which the Envoy of Assyria was about to work. But when they reached the place appointed, Haykar
brought out of their boxes the vultures and making fast the lads to their backs bound the cords to the legs of the
birds and let them loose, when they soared firmament-wards till they were poised between heaven and earth. Hereat the
lads fell to crying aloud, “Send up to us the stones and the mud and the slaked lime that we may build a bower for King
Pharaoh, forasmuch as here we stand the whole day idle.” At this were agitated all present, and they marvelled and
became perplext; and not less wondered the King and the Grandees his lieges, while Haykar and his pages fell to
buffeting the handicraftsmen and to shouting at the royal guards, saying, “Provide the workmen with that they want, nor
hinder them from their work!” Whereupon cried Pharaoh, “O Haykar, art thou Jinn-mad? Who is ever able to convey aught
of these matters to so far a height?” But he replied to the King, “O my lord, how shall we build a bower in the lift on
other wise? And were the King my master here he would have edified two such edifices in a single day.” Hearing this
quoth Pharaoh to him, “Hie thee, O Haykar, to thy quarters, and for the present take thy rest, seeing that we have been
admonished anent the building of the bower; but come thou to me on the morrow.” Accordingly, Haykar fared to his
lodging, and betimes on the next day presented himself before Pharaoh, who said to him, “O Haykar, what of the stallion
of thy lord which, when he neigheth in Assyria and Nineveh, his voice is heard by our mares in this place so that they
miscarry?”74 Hereat Haykar left the King and faring to his
place took a tabby-cat and tying her up fell to flogging her with a sore flogging until all the Egyptians heard her
outcries and reported the matter to the Sovran. So Pharaoh sent to fetch him and asked, “O Haykar, for what cause didst
thou scourge this cat and beat her with such beating, she being none other but a dumb beast?”75 He replied, “O my lord the King, she hath done by me a wrongous deed and
she hath amply merited this whipping and these stripes.” The King asked, “And what may be this deed she did?” whereto
Haykar made answer, “Verily my master Sankharib the King had given me a beautiful cock who had a mighty fine voice and
a strong, and he knew the hours of darkness and announced them. But as he was in my mansion this mischief-making tabby
fared there and fell upon him last night and tare off his head; and for this cause when she returned to me I took to
punishing her with such blows and stripes.” Pharaoh rejoined, “O Haykar, indeed I see thou art old and doting! Between
Misraim and Nineveh lie eight hundred and sixty parasangs; so how could this cat have covered them in one night and
have torn off thy chanticleer’s head and have returned by morning to Egypt?” He replied, “O my lord, seeing that
between Egypt and Assyria is such interval how then can the neighing of my lord the King’s stallion reach unto
Nile-land and be heard by your mares so that here they miscarry?” When Pharaoh had pondered these words, he knew that
the envoy had returned him a full and sufficient reply, so quoth he, “O Haykar, ’tis my desire that thou make for me
two ropes of sand;” and quoth the other, “Do thou prescribe that they bring me a cord from thy stores that I twist one
like it.” So when they had done as he bade, Haykar fared forth arear of the palace and dug two round borings equal to
the thickness of the cord; then he collected sand from the river-bed and placed it therein, so that when the sun arose
and entered into the cylinder, the sand appeared in the sunlight like unto ropes.76 Thereupon quoth he to Pharaoh, “Command thy slaves take up these ropes and
I will twist thee as many of them as thou willest.” Quoth Pharaoh, “O Haykar, we have before our eyes a millstone which
is broken; and I require of thee that thou sew up the rent.” Accordingly the Envoy looked about him and, seeing there
another stone, said to Pharaoh, “O my lord, here am I a stranger man nor have I with me aught of darning-gear; but I
would have thee bid thy confidants amongst the cobblers to provide me out of this other stone with shoemaker’s awls and
needles and scissors wherewith I may sew up for thee the breach in yon millstone.” Hereat Pharaoh the King fell
a-laughing, he and his Grandees, and cried, “Blessed be Allah, who hath vouchsafed to thee all this penetration and
knowledge;” then, seeing that the Envoy had answered all his questions and had resolved his propositions he forthright
confessed that he was conquered and he bade them collect the tax-tribute of three years and present it to him together
with the loan concerning which Haykar had written and he robed him with robes of honour, him and his guards and his
pages; and supplied him with viaticum, victual and moneys for the road, and said to him, “Fare thee in safety, O honour
of thy lord and boast of thy liege: who like unto thee shall be found as a Councillor for the Kings and the Sultans?
And do thou present my salam to thy master Sankharib the Sovran saying, ‘Excuse us for that which we forwarded to thee,
as the Kings are satisfied with a scanting of such acknowledgment.’”77 Haykar accepted from him all this; then, kissing ground before him, said, “I desire of thee, O
my lord, an order that not a man of Assyria and Nineveh remain with thee in the land of Egypt but fare forth it with me
homewards.” Hereupon Pharaoh sent a herald to make proclamation of all whereof Haykar had spoken to him, after which
the envoy farewelled the King and set out on his march intending for the realm of Assyria and Nineveh and bearing with
him of treasures and moneys a mighty matter. When the tidings of his approach came to the ears of Sankharib, the King
rode forth to meet his Minister, rejoicing in him with joy exceeding and received him lovingly and kissed him, and
cried, “Well come and welcome and fair welcome to my sire and the glory of my realm and the vaunt of my kingdom: do
thou require of me whatso thou wantest and choosest, even didst thou covet one-half of my good and of my government.”
The Minister replied, “Live, O King, for ever; and if thou would gift me bestow thy boons upon Abu Sumayk, the Sworder,
whose wise delay, furthered by the will of Allah Almighty, quickened me with a second life.” “In thine honour, O my
beloved,” quoth the King, “I will do him honour;” and presently he fell to questioning his envoy concerning what had
befallen him from Pharaoh and how the Lord of the Misraim had presented him with the tax-tribute and moneys and gifts
and honourable robes; and lastly, he asked anent the instances and secrets which ended the mission. So Haykar related
all that had betided, whereat Sankharib rejoiced with mighty great joy; and, when the converse was concluded, the King
said to him, “O Haykar, take unto thee everything thou wishest and wantest of all this, for ’tis in the grasp of thy
hand.” Haykar answered, “Live, O King, for ever and aye; naught do I require save thy safety and the permanency of thy
rule: what shall I do with moneys and such like? But an thou deign largesse me with aught, make over to me in free gift
Nadan, my sister’s son, that I requite him for that he wrought with me: and I would that thou grant me his blood and
make it lawfully my very own.” Sankharib replied, “Take him, for I have given to thee that same.” So Haykar led his
nephew to his home78 and bound his hands in bonds and
fettered his feet with heavy chains; then he beat him with a severe bastinado and a torturing upon his soles and
calves, his back, his belly and his armpits; after which bashing he cast him into a black hole adjoining the jakes. He
also made Binuhal guardian over him and bade him be supplied day by day with a scone of bread and a little water; and
whenever the uncle went in to or came forth from the nephew he would revile Nadan and of his wisdom would say to him,
“O dear my son, I wrought with thee all manner of good and kindly works and thou didst return me therefor evil and
treason and death. O dear my son, ’tis said in saws, ‘Whoso heareth not through his ears, through the nape of his neck
shall he hear.’”79 Hereat quoth Nadan, “O my uncle, what
reason hast thou to be wroth with me?” and quoth Haykar, “For that I raised thee to worship and honour and made thee
great after rearing thee with the best of rearing and I educated thee so thou mightest become mine heir in lore and
contrivance and in worldly good. But thou soughtest my ruin and destruction and thou desiredst for me doom of death;
however, the Lord, knowing me to be a wronged man, delivered me from thy mischief, for God hearteneth the broken heart
and abaseth the envious and the vain-glorious. O dear my son,80 thou hast been as the scorpion who when she striketh her sting81 upon brass would pierce it. O dear my son, thou hast resembled the
Sajálmah-bird82 when netted in net who, when she cannot
save herself alive, she prayeth the partridges to cast themselves into perdition with her. O dear my son, thou hast
been as the cur who, when suffering cold entereth the potter’s house to warm himself at the kiln, and when warmed
barketh at the folk on such wise that they must beat him and cast him out, lest after barking he bite them. O dear my
son, thou hast done even as the hog who entered the Hammam in company with the great; but after coming out he saw a
stinking fosse a-flowing83 and went and therein wallowed. O
dear my son, thou hast become like the old and rank he-goat who when he goeth in leadeth his friends and familiars to
the slaughter-house and cannot by any means come off safe or with his own life or with their lives. O dear my son, a
hand which worketh not neither plougheth, and withal is greedy and over-nimble shall be cut off from its armpit. O dear
my son, thou hast imitated the tree whom men hew down, head and branch, when she said, ‘Had not that in your hands been
of me,84 indeed ye would not have availed to my felling.’ O
dear my son, thou hast acted as did the she-cat to whom they said, ‘Renounce robbing that we make thee collars of gold
and feed thee with sugar and almond cake!’ But she replied, ‘As for me, my craft is that of my father and my mother,
nor can I ever forget it.’ O dear my son, thou art as a dragon mounted upon a bramble-bush, and the two a-middlemost a
stream, which when the wolf saw he cried, ‘A mischief on a mischief and let one more mischievous counsel the twain of
them.’ O dear my son, with delicate food I fed thee and thou didst not fodder me with the driest of bread; and of sugar
and the finest wines I gave thee to drink, while thou grudgedst to me a sup of cold water. O dear my son, I taught thee
and tendered thee with the tenderest of tending and garred thee grow like the lofty cedar of Lebanon, but thou didst
incriminate me and confine me in fetters by thine evil courses.85 O dear my son, I nourished a hope that thou wouldst build me a strong tower wherein I might
find refuge from mine adversary and foil my foes; but thou hast been to me as a burier, a grave-digger, who would
thrust me into the bowels of the earth: however, my Lord had mercy upon me. O dear my son, I willed thee well and thou
rewardedst me with ill-will and foul deed; wherefore, ‘tis now my intent to pluck out thine eyes and hack away thy
tongue and strike off thy head with the sword-edge and then make thee meat for the wolves; and so exact retaliation
from thine abominable actions.” Hereupon Nadan made answer and said to Haykar his uncle, “Do with me whatso thy
goodness would do and then condone thou to me all my crimes, for who is there can offend like me and can condone like
thee? And now I pray thee take me into thy service and suffer me to slave in thy house and groom thy horses, even to
sweeping away their dung, and herd thy hogs; for verily I am the evil-doer and thou art the beneficent; I am the sinner
and thou art the pardoner.” “O dear my son,” rejoined Haykar, “Thou favourest the tree which, albe planted by the side
of many waters, was barren of dates and her owner purposed to hew her down, when she said, ‘Remove me unto another
stead where if I fruit not then fell me.’ But he rejoined, ‘Being upon the water-edge thou gavest ne’er a date, so how
shalt thou bear fruit being in other site?’ O dear my son, better the senility of the eagle than the juvenility of the
raven. O dear my son, they said to the wolf, ‘Avoid the sheep lest haply the dust they raise in flight may do thee a
damage;’ but Lupus made answer, ‘Verily their dust is a powder good for the eyes.’ O dear my son, they brought the wolf
to school that he might learn to read; but, when quoth they to him, ‘Say A, B, C, D,’86 quoth he, ‘Lamb, Sheep, Kid, Goat,87 even as within my belly.’ O dear my son, they set the ass’s head beside a tray of meats, but he
slipped down and fell to rolling upon his back, for his nature (like that of others) may never be changed. O dear my
son, his say is stablished who said, ‘When thou hast begotten a child assume him to be thy son, and when thou hast
reared a son assume him to be a slave.’88 O dear my son,
whoso doeth good, good shall be his lot; and whoso worketh evil, evil shall befal him; for that the Lord compensateth
mankind according to conduct. O dear my son, wherewith shall I bespeak thee beyond this my speech? and verily Allah
knoweth concealed things and wotteth all secret and hidden works and ways and He shall requite thee and order and
ordain between me and thee and shall recompense thee with that thou deservest.” Now when Nadan heard these words from
his uncle Haykar, his body began to swell and become like a blown-up bag and his members waxed puffy, his legs and
calves and his sides were distended, then his belly split asunder and burst till his bowels gushed forth and his end
(which was destruction) came upon him; so he perished and fared to Jahannam-fire and the dwelling-place dire. Even so
it is said in books:—“Whoever diggeth for his brother a pit shall himself fall into it and whoso setteth up a snare for
his neighbour shall be snared therein.” And this much know we anent the Say of Haykar the Sage, and magnification be to
Allah for ever and ever Amen.
TMT.89
6 MS. pp. 140-182. Gauttier, vol. ii., pp. 313-353, Histoire du sage Heycar translated by M. Agoub: Weber, “History of Sinkarib and his two Viziers” (vol. ii. 53): the “Vizier” is therein called Hicar.
7 This form of the P.N. is preferred by Prof. R. Hoerning in his “Prisma des Sanherib,” etc. Leipsic, 1878. The etymology is “Sin akhi-irib”=Sini (Lunus, or the Moon-God) increaseth brethren. The canon of Ptolemy fixes his accession at B.C. 702, the first year of Elibus or Belibus. For his victories over Babylonia, Palestine, Judea, and Egypt see any “Dictionary of the Bible,” and Byron for the marvellous and puerile legend —
The Assyrian came down as a wolf on the fold,
which made him lose in one night 185,000 men, smitten by the “Angel of the Lord” (2 Kings xix. 35). Seated upon his throne before Lachish he is represented by a bas-relief as a truly noble and kingly figure.
8 I presume that the author hereby means a “fool,” Pers. nádán. But in Assyrian story Nadan was=Nathan, King of the people of Pukudu, the Pekod of Jeremiah (i. 21) and other prophets.
9 In text always “Atúr,” the scriptural “Asshur”=Assyria, biblically derived from Asshur, son of Shem (Gen. x. 22), who was worshipped as the proto-deity. The capital was Niniveh. Weber has “Nineveh and Thor,” showing the spelling of his MS. According to the Arabs, “Ashur” had four sons; Iran (father of the Furs=Persians, the Kurd, or Ghozzi, the Daylams, and the Khazar), Nabít, Jarmúk, and Basíl. Ibn Khaldun (iii. 413), in his “Universal History,” opposes this opinion of Ibn Sa’id.
10 i.e. “Fish-town” or “town of Nin” =Ninus, the founder. In mod. days “Naynawah” was the name of a port on the east bank of the Tigris; and moderns have unearthed the old city at Koyunjik, Nabi Yunas, and the Tall (mound of) Nimrud.
11 The surroundings suggest Jehovah, the tribal deity of the Jews. The old version says, “Hicar was a native of the country of Haram (Harrán), and had brought from thence the knowledge of the true God; impelled, however, by an irresistible decree,” etc.
12 i.e. a woollen cloth dyed red. Hence Pyrard (i. 244) has “red scarlet,” and (vol. ii.) “violet scarlet”; Froissart (xvth centy.) has “white scarlet,” and Marot (xvith) has “green scarlet.” The word seems to be French of xiith century, but is uncertain: Littré proposes Galaticus, but admits the want of an intermediate form. Piers Plowman and Chaucer use “cillatún, which suggests Pers. “Sakalat, or “Saklatún”, whence Mr. Skeat would derive “scarlet.” This note is from the voyage of F. Pyrard, etc. London. Hakluyts, M.dccc.lxxxvii.; and the editor quotes Colonel Yule’s M. Polo (ii. chapt. 58) and his “Discursive Glossary s. v. Suclát.”
13 i.e.“Al-Kirm,” Arab. and Pers. =a worm, as in Kirmán (see Supplem. vol. i. 40); the coccus ilicis, vulg. called cochineal.
14 Arab. “Arz”, from the Heb. Arz or Razah (raz=to vibrate), the root {Greek letters} (cedrus conifera), the Assyrian “Erimu of Lebanon,” of which mention is so often made. The old controversy as to whether “Razah”=cedar or fir, might easily have been settled if the disputants had known that the modern Syrians still preserve the word for the clump called “The Cedars” on the seaward slope of the Libanus.
15 We should say “reading and writing,” but the greater difficulty of deciphering the skeleton eastern characters places reading in the more honourable place. They say of a very learned man, “He readeth it off (readily) as one drinketh water.”
16 Arab. “Al-Sáhib al-jayyid.” [“Jayyid” is, by the measure “Fay’il,” derived from the root, “Jaud,” to excel, like “Kayyis,” from “Kaus” (see Suppl. vol. iv., p.277), “Mayyit” from “Maut,” “Sayyid” from “Saud.” The form was originally “Jaywid;” then the Wáw became assimilated to the preceding Já, on account of the following Kasrah, and this assimilation or “Idghám” is indicated by Tashdíd. As from “Kayyis” the diminutive “Kuwayyis” is formed, so “Jayyid” forms the Tasghír, “Juwayyid,” which, amongst the Druzes, has the specific meaning of “deeply versed in religious matters."— ST.]
17 “Kúl,” vulg. for “Kul”; a form constant in this MS.
18 Gauttier “Sarkhadom,” the great usurper Sargon, a contemporary of Merodach Baladan of Babylon and of Sabaco 1st of Ethiopia, B.C. 721-702: one of the greatest Assyrian Kings, whose place has been determined to be between Shalmaneser and his son, the celebrated Sennacherib, who succeeded him. The name also resembles the biblical Ezarhaddon (Asaridanus), who, however, was the son of Sennacherib, and occupied the throne of Babylon in B.C. 680.
19 Gauttier, pp. 317-319, has greatly amplified and modified these words of wisdom.
20 In text “Yá Bunayya” =lit. “O my little son,” a term of special fondness.
21 Arab. “Jamrah,” a word of doubtful origin, but applied to a tribe strong enough to be self-dependent. The “Jamarát of the Arabs” were three, Banú Numayr, Banú Háris (who afterwards confederated with Mashíj) and Banú Dabbah (who joined the Rikáb), and at last Nomayr remained alone. Hence they said of it:
“Nomayr the jamrah (also “a live coal”) of Arabs are;
And ne’er cease they to burn in fiery war.”
See Chenery’s Al-Hariri, pp. 343-428.
22 In the Arab. “Ta’arkalak,” which M. Houdas renders ”qu’elle ne te retienne dans ses filets.”
23 A lieu commun in the East. It is the Heb. “Sháked” and the fruit is the “Loz” (Arab. Lauz)=Amygdalus communis, which the Jews looked upon as the harbinger of spring and which, at certain feasts, they still carry to the synagogue, as representing the palm branches of the Temple.
24 The mulberry-tree in Italy will bear leaves till the end of October and the foliage is bright as any spring verdure.
25 Gauttier omits this: pas poli, I suppose.
26 The barbarous sentiment is Biblical-inspired, “He that spareth his rod hateth his son” (Prov. xiii. 24), and “Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying” (Prov. xix. 18). Compare the Arab equivalent, “The green stick is of the trees of Paradise” (Pilgrimage i. 151). But the neater form of the saw was left to uninspired writers; witness “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” which appears in Ray’s proverbs, and is immortalised by Hudibras:—
Love is a boy by poets styled,
Then spare the rod and spoil the child. (ii. 1, 843.)
It is to the eternal credit of John Locke, the philosopher, that in an age of general brutality he had the moral courage to declare, ”Beating is the worst and therefore the last means to be used in the correction of children.”
27 Arab. “Dahn” (oil, ointment) which may also mean “soft sawder.”
28 Aucun roi ne peut gouverner sans armée et on ne peut avoir une armée sans argent. For a treatise on this subject see the “Chronique de Tabari,” ii. 340.
29 M. Agoub, in Gauttier (vi. 321) remarks of these prosings, “Ces maximes qui ne seraient pas indignes, pour la plupart, des beaux temps de la philosophie grecque, appartiennent toutes au texte arabe; je n’ai fait que les disposer dans un ordre plus méthodique. J’ai dû aussi supprimer quelques unes, soit parce qu’elles n’offraient que des préceptes d’une morale banale, soit que traduites en frangais, elles eussent pû paraître bizarres à des lecteurs européens. Ce que je dis ici, s’applique également à celles qui terminent le conte et qui pourraient fournir le sujet de plusieurs fables.” One would say that the translator is the author’s natural enemy.
30 Arab. “Ammál,” now vulgarly written with initial Hamzah, a favourite expression in Egypt and meaning “Verily,” “I believe you, my boy,” and so forth. But “‘Ammál” with the Ayn may also mean “he intended,” or “he was about to.”
31 In Gauttier the name is Ebnazadan, but the Arab. text has “Naudán,” which I take to be the Persian “New of knowledge” as opp. to Nádán, the “unknowing.”
32 In Chavis (Weber ii. 58) and Gauttier (p. 323) Akis, roi de Perse. The second name may be “Shah of the Ebna” or Persian incolû of Al-Yaman; aristocratie Persane naturalisée Arabe (Al-Mas’udi, iv. 188, etc.).
33 i.e. the Lowland of the Eglantine or Narcissus; Nisrín is also in dictionaries an island where amber abounds. There is a shade of difference between Buk’ah and Bak’ah. The former which is the corrector form=a patch of ground, a plain (hence the Buká‘a= Coelesyria), while Bak’ah=a hollow where water collects. In Chavis we find “the plain of Harrim” and in Gauttier la plaine de Baschrin; and the appointment was “for the first of the month Niram” (Naysán).
34 “Pharaoh,” which Hebrew Holy Writ left so vague and unsatisfactory, has become with the Arabs “Fir’aun”, the dynastic name of Egyptian kings, as Kisrà (Chosroës) of the Persians, Tobba of the Himyarites, Kaysar (Cûsar) of the Romans, Jalut (Goliath) of the Phoenicians, Faghfur of the Chinese, Khákán of the Tartars, Adfonsh (Alfonso) of the Spanish, and Aguetíd of the Berbers. Ibn Khaldún iv. 572.
35 “Mizr” in Assyrian=“Musur,” in Heb. “Misraim” (the dual Misrs, whose duality permeated all their polity), and in Arab. “Misr,” the O. Egypt. “Há káhi Ptáh” (the Land of the great God, Ptah), and the Coptic “Tá-mera”=the Land of the Nile flood, ignoring, I may add, all tradition of a Noachian or general deluge.
36 The simplicity of old Assyrian correspondence is here well preserved, as we may see by comparing those letters with the cuneiform inscriptions, etc., by S. Abden Smith (Pfeiffer, Leipsic, 1887). One of them begins thus, “The will of the King to Sintabni-Uzur. Salutation from me to thee. May it be well with thee. Regarding Sinsarra-utzur whom thou hast sent to me, how is thy report?” etc. We find such expressions as “May the great Gods, lovers of thy reign, preserve thee an hundred years;” also “Peace to the King, my lord,” etc.
37 Arab. “Yaum al-Khamís.” For the week-days see vol. vi. 190, and for a longer notice, Al-Mas’udi, iii. 422-23.
38 In the text “Kál” (al-Ráwí), “the Reciter saith”— which formula I omit here and elsewhere.
39 i.e. “The Father of the little Fish,” in Gauttier (vii. 329) “Abou Soméika.”
40 By way of insult; as I have before noticed.
41 He had now learned that Nadan had ruined him.
42 The wife (in p. 155; “Ashghaftíní") is called “Thou hast enamoured me” from the root “Shaghaf”=violent love, joy, grief. Chavis has Zefagnie: Gauttier suppresses the name, which is not pretty. In the old version she is made aunt (father’s sister) to Sankharib.
43 The old version attributes all this device to “Zefagnie;” thus injuring the unity and the interest of the tale.
44 Arab. “Jund” plur. “Junúd,” a term mostly applied to regular troops under the Government, as opposed to soldiers who took service with the Amirs or great barons — a state of things still enduring in non-British India.
45 Who thus makes a “Ma’adabah”=wake or funeral feast before his death. See vol. viii. 231.
46 i.e. “Father of the Fishlet”, in the old version “Yapousmek” (Yá Abú Sumayk).
47 In Chavis he becomes “an old slave, a magician, stained with the greatest crimes, who has the air and figure of Hicar.”
48 A formula which announces the death of his supposed enemy.
49 Arab. “ Matmúrah”=Sardábah (i. 340), a silo for storing grain, an underground cell (ii. 39).
50 See text “Náhú” from “Nauh”=ceremonious keening for the dead. The general term for the wail is “Walwalah” or “Wilwál” (an onomatopoy) and for the public wailing-woman “Naddábah.”
51 Here we find the Doric form “Rahúm” for “Rahím,” or it may simply be the intensive and emphatic form, as “Nazúr”=one who looks intently for “Názir,” a looker.
52 In the old version “a tenth part of the revenues.” The “Kasím” of the text is an unusual word which M. Houdas would render revenues en nature, as opposed to Khiráj, revenues en argent. I translate it by “tax tribute.”
53 In text “‘Azzámín, “i.e. men who recite “‘Azm,” mostly Koranic versets which avert evil.
54 This may either be figurative or literal — upon the ashes where the fire had been; even as the father of Sayf al-Mulúk sat upon the floor of his audience-hall (vol. vii. 314).
55 In text “Ya’tadir”— from ‘Adr=heavy rain, boldness. But in this MS. the dots are often omitted and the word may be Ya’tazir=find excuse.
56 In the old version the wife is made to disclose the secret of her husband being alive — again a change for the worse.
57 Here “Wayha-v.” and before “Wayla-k”: see vols. v. 258; vii. 127 and iii. 82.
58 The King, after the fashion of Eastern despots, never blames his own culpable folly and hastiness: this was decreed to him and to his victim by Destiny.
59 The older version reads “Roc” and informs us that “it is a prodigious bird, found in the deserts of Africa: it will bear two hundred pounds weight; and many are of opinion that the idea of this bird is visionary.” In Weber ii. 63, this is the device of “Zafagnie,” who accompanies her husband to Egypt.
60 This name appears to be a corruption. The sound, however, bears a suspicious resemblance to “Dabshalim” (a name most proper for such a Prince, to wit, meaning in their tongue a mighty King), who appears in chapt. i. of the “Fables of Pilpay” (Bidpai=Bidyapati=Lord of Lore?). “Dabshalímat”=the Dabshalíms, was the dynastic title of the Kings of Somanáth (Somnauth) in Western India.
61 Arab. “Tín”=clay, mud, which would be used with the Tob (adobe, sun-dried brick) forming the walls of Egypt and Assyria. M.G. Maspero, in his excellent booklet “L’Archéologie Egyptienne” (p. 7. Paris, Quantin, 1887), illustrates this ancient industry which endures with all its gear to the present day. The average measured 22 X 11 X 14 cm.; the larger was 38 X 18 X 14 cm., with intermediate sizes. These formed the cores of temple walls, and, being revetted with granite, syenite, alabaster and other stones, made a grand show; but when the outer coat was removed they were presently weathered to the external semblance of mud-piles. Such was mostly the condition of the ruins of grand Bubastis (“Pi-Pasht”) hod. Zagázig, where excavations are still being pushed on.
62 The old version has “Masser, Grand Cairo (in the days of the Pharaohs!); so called from having been built by Misraim, the son of Cham.”
63 In Chavís, “Abicam, a Chaldûan astrologer;” in Gauttier “Abimacam.”
64 In Al-Harírí (p. 409) we read, “Hospitality is three days;” and a Hadís of the Prophet confirms the liberal practice of The Ignorance:—“The entertainment of a guest is three days, and the viaticum (“Jáizah”) is a day and a night, and whatso exceedeth is an alms-gift.” On the first day is shown largesse and courtesy; on the second and third the stranger is treated after the usual custom of the household, and then he is provided with rations for a day and a night. See Lane: A. Nights, i. 486; also The Nights, vol. i. 3.
65 i.e. Not standing astraddle, or in other such indecorous attitude.
66 Chavis, “Bilelsanam, the oracle of Bel, the chief God of the Assyrian: “Gauttier, Une idole Bíl. Bel (or Ba’al or Belus, the Phoenician and Canaanite head-god) may here represent Hobal the biggest idol in the Meccan Pantheon, which used to be borne on raids and expeditions to give plunder a religious significance. Tabari iii. 17. Evidently the author holds it to be an idol.
67 The Syro-solar month=April; much celebrated by poets and fictionists: rain falling at such time into shells becomes pearls and upon serpents poison.
68 The text has “Baybúnah,” prop. Bábúnaj in Arab., and in Pers. “Bábúk,” or “Bábúnak”=the white camomile-flower. See vol. iii. 58.
69 “Khabata”=“He (the camel) pawed the ground.” The prim. sig. is to beat, secondly, it is applied to a purblind camel which beats or strikes the ground and so stumbles, or to him who bashes a tree for its leaves; and lastly to him who gets alms by begging. See Chenery’s Al-Hariri, p. 447.
70 Arab. “Karz”=moneys lent in interest and without fixed term of payment, as opp. to “Dayn.”
71 In text “Kintár”=a quintal, 98 to 99 lbs. avoir.: in round numbers a cwt. a hundred weight: see vol. ii. 233. The old version explains it by “A golden coin, equivalent to three hundred livres French (?).” About the value of the Kintár of gold, doctors differ. Some value it at 40 ounces, others make it a leathern bag containing 1,080 to 1,100 dinars, and others 100 rotls (lbs.) of precious metal; while Al-Makrizi relates that Mohammed the Apostle declared, “The Kintár of gold is twelve hundred ounces.” Baron de Slane (Ibn Khaldun i. 210) computes 100 Kintárs=1 million of francs.
72 In the text “wa lá ahad tafawwaha fina.”
73 Arab. “Falsafah”=philosophy: see vols. v. 234 and vii. 145.
74 In the text “Fa-yatrahúna,” masc. for fem.
75 The writer probably remembered that the cat was a sacred animal amongst the Egyptians: see Herod., ii. 66, and Diod. Sic., who tells us (vol. i. p. 94) of a Roman put to death under Ptolemy Auletes for accidentally killing one of these holy beasts. The artists of Bubastis, whose ruins are now for the first time being scientifically explored, modelled the animal in bronze with an admirable art akin to nature.
76 M. Houdas explains this miswritten passage, Quand le soleil fut levé et qu’il pénétra par ces ouvertures (lis. abkhásh, trou de flæte), il répandit le sable dans ces cylindres formés par la lumière du soleil. It is not very intelligible. I understand that the Sage went behind the Palace and drove through a mound or heap of earth a narrow hole bearing east–-west, which he partially filled up with sand; and so when the sun rose the beams fell upon it and made it resemble a newly made cord of white flax. M. Agoub (in Gauttier vol. vi. 344) shirks, as he is wont to do, the whole difficulty. [The idea seems to me to be, and I believe this is also the meaning of M. Houdas, that Haykar produced streaks of light in an otherwise dark room by boring holes in the back wall, and scattered the sand over them, so that, while passing through the rays of the sun, it assumed the appearance of ropes. Hence he says mockingly to Pharaoh, “Have these ropes taken up, and each time you please I will twist thee the like of them”— reading “Aftilu,” lst p. aor. instead of “Iftil”, 2nd imper. — ST.)
77 Gauttier (vi. 347), Ces présens ne sont pas dignes de lui; mais peu de chose contents les rois.
78 Haykar is a Sage who follows the religion of nature, “Love thy friends and hate thy foes.” Gauttier (vii. 349) embroiders all this with Christian and French sentiment —L’intention secrète de Heycar était de sauver la vie à l’ingrat qui avait conspiré contre la sienne. Il voulait pour toute vengeance, le mettre désormais dans l’impossibilité de nuire et l’abandonner ensuite à ses remords, persuadé que le remords n’est pas le moindre châtiment du coupable. True nonsense this when talking of a character born bad: its only remorse is not to have done worse than bad.
79 Striking the nape being the Moslem equivalent for “boxing ears.”
80 With this formula compare Chaucer, “The Manciple’s Tale.”
81 In the text “Znnákt-ha,” which is unintelligible, although the sense be clear.
82 A bird unknown to the dictionaries, apparently a species of hawk.
83 In the text “Júrah Syán” for “Júrah Sayyál.”
84 The tree having furnished the axe-helve.
85 M. Houdas translates Tu as médit de moi et tu m’as accablé de tes méchancetés.
86 In text “Alif, bá, tá, sá,” the latter written with a Sin instead of a Thá, showing the vulgar use which extends from Alexandria to Meccah.
87 So in French, deriding the difference between written and spoken English, Ecrivez Salmonassar, prononcez crocodile.
88 Because he owes thee more than a debt of life.
89 i.e. “Tammat”=She (the tale) is finished.
In the name of Allah the Compassionating, the Compassionate, we here indite, by the aidance of the Almighty and His furtherance, the History of the Caliph Harun Al-Rashid and of the Daughter of Kisra the King.90
It is related (but Allah is all-knowing of His secrets and all-kenning in whatso hath passed and preceded and preterlapsed of the annals of folk),91 that the Caliph (by whom I mean Harun al-Rashid) was sitting on the throne of his kingdom one chance day of the days which happened to be the fête of ‘Arafát.92 And as he chanced to glance at Ja’afar the Barmaki, he said to him, “O Wazir, I desire to disguise myself and go down from my palace into the streets and wander about the highways of Baghdad that I may give alms to the mesquin and miserable and solace myself with a sight of the folk: so do thou hie with me nor let any know of our faring forth.” “With love and good will,” quoth Ja’afar. So his lord arose and passed from the audience-room into the inner palace where the two donned disguise and made small their sleeves and breasts93 and issued forth to circle about the thorough-fares of Baghdad and her market-streets, distributing charity to the poor and the paupers, until the last of the day. And whilst so doing, the Commander of the Faithful chanced to espy a woman seated at the head of a highway who had extended the hand of beggary, showing at the same time her wrist and crying, “Give me somewhat for the sake of Allah Almighty!” Hereat he considered her nicely and saw that her palm and her wrist were like whitest crystal and yet more brilliant in brightness. So he wondered thereat, and presently pulling a dinar from his breast-pocket he handed it to Ja’afar and said, “Bestow it upon yonder woman.” The Minister took the ducat and leaving his lord went up to her and placed it in her palm; and, when she closed her fingers thereupon, she felt that the coin was bigger than a copper or a silverling, so she looked thereat and saw that it was of gold. Hereupon she called after Ja’afar who had passed onwards, saying, “Ho, thou fair youth!” and when he came back to her she continued, “The dinar wherewith thou hast gifted me, is it for Allah’s sake or for other service?” Said he, “’Tis not from me, nay ’twas given by yonder Youth who sent it through me.” “Ask him,” she rejoined, “and tell me what may be his purport.” Ja’afar hied him back to the Caliph and reported her words, whereat his lord commanded him, “Go back and say thou to her ’tis for Almighty Allah’s sake.” The Minister did his master’s bidding when she replied “His reward be upon the Almighty.” Then the Wazir returned and reported the woman’s prayer to the Commander of the Faithful, who cried, “Hie thee to her and enquire an she be married or virginal; and, if she be unwedded, do thou ask her an she be willing to wive with me.”94 So Ja’afar fared to her and questioned her, whereat she answered, “A spinster.” Quoth he, “The Youth who sent the dinar to thee desireth to mate with thee;” and quoth she, “An he can pay me my dower and my money down,95 I will become his bride.” Hereat Ja’afar said in his thought, “whence can the Prince of True Believers find her dower and her money down? Doubtless we shall have to ask a loan for him;”96 and presently he enquired of her what might be the amount of both. Replied she, “As for the pin-money, this shall be the annual revenue of Ispahán, and the income of Khorásán-city shall form the settlement.” So Ja’afar wagged his head and going back to the Commander of the Faithful repeated her terms; wherewith Harun was satisfied and bespake him, “Hie thee to her and say, ‘He hath accepted this and thou hast professed thyself contented.’” Hearing his words she rejoined, “What be his worth, yonder man, and how may he attain unto such sum?” and he retorted, “Of a truth he is the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid.” When this reply reached her ears she veiled her hands and feet crying, “To Allah be laud and gratitude;” adding to Ja’afar, “An he be the Prince of True Believers, I am satisfied therewith.” Accordingly the Wazir returned to the Caliph and reported her consent, whereafter the twain repaired homewards and the Caliph despatched to her a duenna and a train of handmaidens who went and bore her to the Hammam within the palace and bathed her. Then they brought her out and robed her in sumptuous raiment, such as becometh the women of the Kings, and ornaments and jewellery and what not: after which they led her to a fine apartment which was set apart and private for her wherein also were meat and drink and furniture, arras97 and curtains and all necessaries of such sort. In fine they fared to the Caliph and apprized him of what they had done and he presently gave command to summon the four Kazis who wrote her marriage-lines. When it was night he paid her the first visit and taking seat opposite her he asked, “Daughter of whom mayst thou be amongst the folk that thou demandedst of me this dower?” “Allah advance in honour the Commander of the Faithful,” answered she; “verily thy hand-maid is of the seed of Kisrà Anushirwán; but the shifts of time and tide brought me down and low down.” Replied he, “They relate that thine ancestor, the Chosroë, wronged his lieges with mighty sore wronging;”98 and she rejoined, “Wherefor and because of such tyranny over the folk hath his seed come to beg their bread at the highway-heads.” Quoth he, “They also make mention of him that in after-times he did justice to such degree that he decided causes between birds and beasts;” and quoth she, “Wherefor hath Allah exalted his posterity from the highway-head and hath made them Harím to the Prince of True Believers.” Hearing this the Caliph was wroth with mighty great wrath99 and sware that he would not go in unto her for full told year, and arising forthright went forth from her. But when the twelvemonth had passed and the fête-day of Arafat came round again, the Commander of the Faithful donned disguise and taking with him Ja’afar and Masrúr the Eunuch, strolled out to wander about the streets of Baghdad and her highways. And as they walked along, the Caliph looked about him and beheld a booth wherein a man was turning out Katífah-cakes100 and he was pleased to admire his dexterity to such degree that, returning to the Palace, he sent him one of his Eunuchs with the message, “The Prince of True Believers requireth of thee an hundred pancakes, and let each one of them, when filled and folded, fit into the hollow of a man’s hand.” So the Castrato went and gave the order as we have related and paid the price and, when the pastrycook had made his requirement, he carried it away to the presence. Then the Caliph took seat and bade bring sugar and pistachios and all other such needs wherewith he fell to stuffing the pancakes with his own hands and placing in each and every a golden dinar. When this was done he despatched the same Eunuch to Kisra’s daughter with the message, “This night the Commander of the Faithful proposeth to visit thee, the year of his oath having expired, and he sendeth to thee saying, ‘What is it thy heart coveteth that he may forward it to thee?’” The Castrato set forth upon this errand and received for all reply, “Say him my heart desireth naught, for that all I require is with me nor is there aught of deficiency.” Accordingly, he returned and repeated her words to the Caliph who bade him fare forth again to her and say the same to her a second time, whenas she, “Let him send me a thousand dinars and a duenna in whom he confideth, so that I may disguise myself and go down with her and distribute gold to the mean and the mesquin.” Presently back came the slave bearing this reply, whereat the Caliph ordered the moneys be sent to her and the woman required; and the twain, Princess and duenna, went forth and threaded the lanes of Baghdad and her great thoroughfares whilst the young lady distributed her charity to the Fakirs and the paupers. But when all the gold with her had been expended and naught of it remained, they turned homewards making for the Palace; and, the day being sultry, drowthiness befel the young lady. So she said to her companion, “O mother mine, I am athirst and want a draught of water to drink;” and said the other, “We will call aloud to the Water-carrier101 who shall give thee thy need.” Replied the Princess, “Drinking from the Waterman’s jar will not be pleasant to my heart; nor will I touch it, for ’tis like the whore102 whereinto some man goeth every hour: let the draught of water be from a private house and suffer that it be given by way of kindness.” Hereupon the old woman looked in front of her and saw a grand gateway with a door of sandal-wood over which a lamp hung by a silken cord103 and a curtain was drawn across it and it had two benches of marble, the whole under the charge of a goodly concierge. Then quoth she, “From this house I will ask a drink for thee.” So the two women went forward and stood before the door and the duenna advancing rapped a light rap with the ring, when behold, the entrance was opened and came forth a young man in youthful favour fair and robed in raiments pure and rare and said, “’Tis well!” Hereat the governante addressed him, “O my son, indeed this my daughter is athirst and I crave of thy kindness that thou give her a draught of water, seeing that she will not drink from the Watercarrier.” He replied, “With love and goodwill;” and going within brought out what was required and handed the cup to the old woman. She took it and passed it on to her mistress and the young lady turning her face to the wall raised her veil and drank her sufficiency without showing a single feature.104 After this she returned the cup to the old woman who took it and handed it back to the young man saying, “Allah requite thee with all of weal, O my son!” whereto he replied, “Health to you and healing!”105 And the two went their way and returned to the Palace and entered therein. On such wise fared it with these twain but as regards the Caliph, when he had finished filling the pancakes, he ranged them in a large charger of porcelain; then, summoning the Eunuch he said to him, “Take up this and carry it to the daughter of Kisra and say her, ‘Here be the sweetmeats of peace,’ and let her know that I will night with her this night.” The Castrato did his lord’s bidding; and carrying the charger to the Princess’s apartment handed it to the duenna and delivered the message, whereupon she blessed and prayed for the Commander of the Faithful and the slave departed. Now he was angry and disappointed for that he could not eat one pancake of them all because they had become big by stuffing and he feared that if he touched any thereof its place would show void. Presently it so befel that the young lady said to the old woman, her governante, “Do thou take up this charger and carry it to the youth who gave us the draught of water with the intent that he may not claim an obligation or have aught to desire of us.” Accordingly, the ancient dame took the charger and walked off with it. But on her way she longed for a Katifah and put forth her hand to one and took it up when she saw that it left in the line of pancakes a gap big as a man’s palm. Hereat she feared to touch it and replaced it saying, “’Twill be known that I carried off one of them.” Then after returning the pancake to its place she passed on with the charger to the door of that young man whom she suddenly sighted as he sat at the gateway. She saluted him with the salam which he returned, and then said she, “O my son, the young lady who drank the water hath sent thee all these cates in acknowledgment for the draught thou gavest her to drain.” Said he, “Set it down on the door-bench;” and when she did his bidding, he expressed his thanks to her and she ganged her gait. Now as the youth still sat there, the Watchman of the Ward suddenly stood before him blessing him and saying, “O my lord, this be Arafat-day and to-night will be the Eve of the ‘I’d, or Greater Festival; so I hope from the beneficence of my master the Chamberlain and Emir Alaeddin (whom Allah Almighty keep and preserve!) that he will deign order me a largesse befitting the Fête wherewith I may buy sweetmeats for my wife and children.” The other replied, “Take this charger and wend thy ways therewith;” so the Watchman kissed his hand and carrying it off went home and showed it to his wife. But she cried, “O thou miserable,106 whence gottest thou this charger: hast thou wilfully stolen it or suddenly snatched it?”107 Replied her mate, “This be the property of the Emir Alaeddin, the Chamberlain (whom Allah preserve!), and he gave it to me as an alms-gift; so come hither all of you that we eat, for the pancakes look toothsome.” Rejoined his wife, “Art thou Jinn-mad? Up with thee and sell the charger and cates, for the worth must be some thirty to forty dirhams which we will lay out for the benefit of the little ones.” He retorted, “O woman, suffer us eat of this food wherewith the Almighty would feed us;” but she fell to wailing and crying out, “We will not taste thereof while the children lack caps and slippers.”108 and she prevailed over him with her opinion, for indeed women are mostly the prevailers. So taking up the charger he fared with it to the market-place and gave it for sale to a broker, and the man began crying, “Who will buy this charger with whatso is thereon?” Hereat up came the Shaykh of the Bazar who bid forty dirhams therefor, and a second merchant raised its price to eighty, when a third hent it in hand and turning it about espied graven upon the edge, “Made by commandment of Harun al-Rashid, Commander of the Faithful.” Hereat the trader’s wits fled him and he cried to the broker, “Hast thou a will to work for my hanging in this matter of the charger?” Quoth the other, “What may be the meaning of these words?” and quoth the merchant, “This charger is the property of the Prince of True Believers.” The broker, dying of dread, took the charger and repaired therewith to the Palace of the Caliphate where he craved leave to enter; and, when this was accorded, he went in and kissed ground before the presence and blessed the Commander of the Faithful and lastly showed to him the charger. But when the Caliph looked at it and considered it carefully, he recognised it with its contents and he waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and said in himself, “When I make aught for the eating of my household, shall it be sent out and hawked about for sale?” adding to the broker, “Who gave thee this charger?” “O my lord, ’twas the Watchman of one of the wards,” replied he; and Harun rejoined, “Bring him to me hither.” So they fared forth and fetched him bound in cords and saying in his mind, “The whore would not suffer us eat of that was in the charger and enjoy its sweetness, so this happened which hath happened to us; we have eaten naught and have fallen into misfortune.” But when they set him between the hands of the Caliph the latter asked him, “Where haddest thou yon charger? say me sooth or I will smite thy neck!” The Watchman answered, “Allah prolong the life of our liege lord! verily as regards this charger it was given to me by the Lord Alaeddin, the junior Chamberlain.” Hereat the Prince of True Believers redoubled in rage and cried, “Bring me that Emir with his turband in tatters, and drag him along on his face and plunder his home.” Accordingly the magnates fared forth with their pages; and, reaching the house, knocked at the door, when the owner came out and, seeing the officials, asked, “What is to do?” “’Tis against thee,” replied some of the Grandees, whereto the Chamberlain rejoined, “Hearkening and obeying Allah and then the Commander of the Faithful!” After this they bore him to the Palace of the Caliphate and an Emir of them put forth his hand to the Chamberlain’s coat and tare it and rent his turband adown his neck saying, “O Alaeddin,109 this is the behest of the Prince of True Believers who hath enjoined that we do with thee on such wise and we despoil thy house: yet there is bread and salt between us albe we must do as we are bidden, for obedience to royal behest is of the ways of good breeding.” Then they carried him into the presence of the Caliph and he, after he was made to stand between the Sovran’s hands, kissed ground and blessed Harun and said, “Allah give aidance to our liege lord and have him in His holy keeping: what may be the offence of thine humble slave that he hath merited such treatment as this?” Harun raised his head and asked, “Say me, knowest thou yon fellow?” and the other looked and seeing the guardian of the gates corded and pinioned made answer, “Yes indeed, I know him and he is the Watchman of our ward.” The Caliph resumed, “Whence came to thee this charger?” and the Chamberlain replied, “Let the Commander of the Faithful (to whom Almighty Allah vouchsafe furtherance!) learn that I was sitting at home when there rapped a rap at the door; and I, going forth to open, beheld an ancient dame who said to me, ‘O my son, this my daughter is athirst and I beg thee of thy bounty to give her a draught of water for she will not take drink from the public Sakká.’ So I brought them out their requirement and they satisfied themselves and went their ways. After an hour or so I came forth and took seat by my house-door when behold, up came the old woman bearing in hand yon charger and said, ‘O my son, the person to whom thou suppliedest drink hath sent this to thee in requital for that thou gavest her of water inasmuch as she is unwilling to be under an obligation.’ Quoth I, ‘Set it down’; when she placed it upon the edge of the Mastabah-bench and left me. Thereupon suddenly came up this Watchman and craved from me the Sweetmeat of the Festival, whereto I answered, ‘Do thou take this charger and its contents’ (whereof by the bye I had not tasted aught); and he did so and departed. This is all I know and — The Peace.” Now when the Commander of the Faithful heard this from the Chamberlain, his heart was gladdened and he enquired, “O Alaeddin, what time the young lady drank the draught of water didst thou see her face or not?” and the Chamberlain replied in haste, “O Prince of True Believers, indeed I did see it.” Hereat Harun was wroth with exceeding wrath and bade summon the daughter of Kisra and when she came bade the twain be beheaded saying, “Thou farest forth to do alms-deeds, and thou durst display thy features to this fellow when thou drankest water at his hand!” Hereat she turned her towards Alaeddin and replied, “Thou see my face! Nay, this is but a lie that may work my death.” He rejoined, “The Reed-pen wrote what ’twas bidden write!110 I designed to say, ‘Verily I beheld naught of her,’ and my tongue ran as it did the sooner to end our appointed life-term.” Then having set the twain upon the rug of blood the Sworder bound their hands and tearing off a strip from their skirts bandaged their eyes, whereafter he walked around them and said, “By leave of the Commander of the Faithful;” and Harun cried, “Smite!” Then the Headsman paced around them a second time saying, “By leave of the Commander of the Faithful,” and Harun again cried, “Smite!” But when the executioner did in like manner for the third and last time111 quoth he to Alaeddin, “Hast thou haply in heart aught of regret or requirement that I may fulfil it to thee? Ask of me anything save release, ere the Commander of the Faithful say the word and forthright thy head fall before thy feet?” “I desire,” quoth the Chamberlain, “that thou unbind this bandage from mine eyes so may I look one latest look at the world and at my friends, after which do thou work thy will.” The Sworder granted this and Alaeddin glanced first to the right where he saw none to aidance dight, and then to the left where he found all favour reft; and the spectators each and every hung their heads groundwards for awe of the Caliph, nor did any take upon himself to utter a kindly word. Whereupon the Chamberlain cried out his loudest saying, “A counsel, O Commander of the Faithful!” and Harun regarding him asked, “What is it thou counsellest?” “A respite of three days’ space,” rejoined the condemned, “when thou shalt see a marvel, indeed a miracle of miracles;” and the Caliph retorted, “After the third day, an I see not as thou sayest, I will assuredly smite thy neck;” and bade them bear him back to gaol. But when the appointed term ended the Caliph sprang up and in his impatience to see what would befal him donned a dress distinctive of his new calling,112 and thrusting his feet into coarse shoon and high of heel113 and binding about his brows a honey-coloured turband114 he hent in hand a pellet-bow115 and slung its case over his shoulders: he also took gold in pouch and thus equipped he left the palace. Then, as he roamed about the lanes of Baghdad and her highways, giving alms and saying in his mind, “Haply may I sight the wonder which the Chamberlain Alaeddin announced to me,” it befel about mid-forenoon (and he still walking) that behold, a man came forth from the Kaysaríyah116 or chief mart of the merchants crying aloud, “This be a marvel, nay a miracle of miracles.” So the Caliph questioned him saying “What be this wonder thou hast seen?” and he answered, “Within yon Kaysariyah is a woman who reciteth the Koran even as it was brought down,117 and albeit she have not ceased declaiming from the hour of the dawn-prayer until this time, yet hath none given her a single dirham: no, nor even one mite;118 and what strangeness can be stranger than this I tell thee?” The Caliph, hearing his words, entered the mart wherein he descried an ancient dame sitting and reciting the Koran and she had well nigh reached the end thereof. He was charmed with the beauty of her lecture and stood there until she had finished it and had blessed the by-standers, but when he glanced round he saw nobody give her aught. So he thrust his hand into his pouch saying in his mind, “Whatso119 of coin remaineth in purse shall go to this woman.” And he designed to gift her with the gold when suddenly the old dame sprang from her seat and going to a merchant’s shop took seat beside the man and said to him, “O my son, dost thou accept of a fair young lady?” Said he, “Yea, verily,” and she continued, “Up with thee and come that I show thee a thing whose like thou hast never seen.” Now when the Caliph heard her words he said to himself, “Look at yon foul old crone who playeth bawd when I held her to be a devotee, a holy woman. Indeed I will not give her aught until I see what work is wrought by these twain.” The trader then followed the old woman to her home wherein both, youth and crone, entered and the Caliph who pursued them also went in privily and took his station at a stead whence he could see without being seen.120 Then lo and behold! the old trot called to her daughter who came forth from the bower wherein she was, and the Caliph looking at this young lady owned that he had never sighted amongst his women aught fairer than this, a model of beauty and loveliness and brilliancy and perfect face and stature of symmetric grace. Her eyes were black and their sleepy lids and lashes were kohl’d with Babylonian witchery, and her eyebrows were as bows ready to shoot the shafts of her killing glances, and her nose was like unto the scymitar’s edge, and her mouth for magical might resembled the signet-ring of Sulayman (upon whom be The Peace!), and her lips were carnelians twain, and her teeth union pearls and her mouth-dews sweeter than honey and more cooling than the limpid fount; with breasts strutting from her bosom in pomegranate-like rondure and waist delicate and hips of heavy weight, and stomach soft to the touch as sendal with plait upon plait, and she was one that excited the sprite and exalted man’s sight even as said a certain poet in song of her like,
“Breeze-wavèd branch, full moon O’ murk or sun of undurn sheeny bright,
Which is she hight who all the three hath might to place in pauper plight, ah!
Where on the bending branch alight with grace of stature like to hers
Tho’ be the branch by Zephyr deckt and in its ornaments bedight, ah!
And how can fellowèd be her brow with fullest moon that lights the darks
When sun must borrow morning light from that fair forehead dazzling bright, ah!
Were set in scales the fairest fair and balanced with a long compare
Their boasts, thou haddest over-weight for beauty and their charms were light, ah!”
Now when he considered her straitly, she captured the whole of his heart. But the young lady had not upon her clothes enough for concealment, and here and there her body showed bare; so when she came forth and espied the young man standing by the old woman she withdrew into her bower and said to her mother, “Allah requite121 thee for that thou hast done. How can it be allowed thee by the Almighty to set me in this state before a stranger?” “Hold thy peace,” said her parent; “man is allowed to look, and if he have any art or part in the object looked at ’tis well; but thereafter if he look without its being his lot, then ’twere unlawful. This youth hath gazed upon thee, and if he prove to have a portion in thee let him take it, otherwise he may wend his ways, nor is there a flaw in aught of legal observance.” Hereat the Caliph’s heart was cheered, for he knew that the ancient dame meant to marry the maid. Anon quoth the old mother to the merchant, “Hast thou seen her?” and quoth he, “Yes.” “Did she please thee?” asked the crone, and he answered, “Yea verily,” adding, “How much may be her actual marriage-settlement and her contingent dower?” She replied, “The first shall consist of four thousand dinars and the second shall be the same."’ “This be overmuch,” rejoined the youth, “and more than all my good; to wit, four thousand gold pieces, the gift of which will send me forth to beg; but do thou take of me a thousand dinars, and upon me be the arraying of the house and the maiden’s raiment for another thousand; so will I do business and trade with the remainder.” But the crone sware to him by Allah the Almighty,122 that an the four thousand failed of a single gold piece he should never see of the damsel a single hair. He replied, “I have no power thereto and — good day to both of you;” and he made for the door, but the Caliph forewent him to the street and standing in a corner suffered him to pass and gang his gait. After this Harun went back to the old woman, and entering salam’d to her and she, returning his salutation, asked him, “What dost thou want and what may be thy wish?” He answered, “The young trader who went forth hence sent me to say that he hath no intent to wed,” and she rejoined, “On this mind the man hied away from us.” Then quoth the Caliph, “I will marry the maid, and by me is all thou canst desire of gold and what not.” She retorted, “O Robber,123 all I see upon thee is not worth two hundred dirhams: whence then canst thou procure four thousand dinars?” Quoth he, “Hast thou grapes to sell, or wishest thou only to breed a quarrel between me and the vineyard-keeper?”124 and quoth she, “Doubtless I have and hold the grapes.” “Then, I possess all thou canst desire, said he, and said she, “Then, we will wed thee when thou shalt have weighed out the gold.” The Caliph cried, “I accept;” and anon entering the lodging he took seat at the head of the chamber and in its place of honour, and said to the house-mistress, “Go thou to Kází Such-an-one and tell him that Al-Bundukáni requireth him.” “O Robber,” said she, “will the Kazi be content to come at thy bidding?” The Commander of the Faithful laughed at these words and said, “Do thou go without danger and bid him bring his ink-case and pens and paper.” So she went off saying to herself, “Verily, an the Judge accompany me, this my son-in-law must be a Captain of Robbers.”125 But when at last she arrived at the Kazi’s mansion she saw him sitting in the middle of the room and surrounded by doctors of divinity and a host of learned wights: so she feared to enter, and fell to looking in through the doorway and she dreaded to fare farther and stepped backwards; withal she kept saying, “How shall I go home without speaking a word to the Kazi?” and the thought would hearten her heart, so she would return to the entrance and thrust in her head and then withdraw it. On such wise she had done many a time when the Kazi, catching sight of her, bade one of his messengers bring her within; so the man went to her and said, “Bespeak the Kazi!” So she went in full of affright and salam’d to the Judge who, returning her salutation, asked her, “What is thy want, O woman?” She answered, “There is a young man in my house who desireth that thou come to him;” whereat he rejoined, “And who may be this youth that I in person should hie to him; and what may be his name?” She replied, “He pretendeth to the name of Al-Bundukani — the Arbalestrier” (which was a by-name of the Caliph kept concealed from the folk but well known to all officials). Hereat the Kazi sprang to his feet without stay or delay and said to her, “O my lady, do thou forego me,” whilst all present asked him, “O our lord, whither away?” and he, answering them, “A need hath suddenly occurred,” went forth. Then quoth the crone in her mind, “Hapless the Kazi who is a pleasant person, haply this son-in-law of mine hath given him to drink of clotted gore126 by night in some place or other and the poor man hath yet a fear of him; otherwise what is the worth of this Robber that the Judge should hie to his house?” When they reached the door, the Kazi bade the ancient dame precede him;127 so she went in and called to him and he on entering saw the Caliph seated at the head of the chamber. He would have kissed ground but Harun signed to him silence with a wink; so he made his salam and sat him down saying, “’Tis well,128 O my lord, what may be thy want?” The Prince of True Believers replied, “I desire thou marry me to the daughter of this ancient dame, so do thou write out the writ.” Hereupon the Judge asked the assent of the old woman and of her daughter; and, when they both granted it, he enquired, “What may be the amount of the dower?” The mother replied, “Four thousand dinars of gold and the like sum in ready coin.” “Dost thou accept?” quoth the Kazi to the Caliph, and quoth he, “Yes.” Accordingly, the Judge wrote out the writ upon the skirt of his Farajiyah-robe for in his agitation he had forgotten to bring paper, and he set down the name of the Sovran and his father and his grandfather without question for that he knew them well; after which he enquired of the old woman her daughter’s name129 and that of her sire and grandsire. She wailed and cried, “Why and wherefore?130 Oh miserable that we are! Had her father been living how would this Robber have availed to stand at our door, much less to marry her? but ’twas Death that did with us this deed.” “Allah bless the wronged,”131 quoth the Kazi and busied himself with writing out the writ; but whatever question he put to the crone, she wailed in reply and buffeted her cheeks, whilst the Judge wagged his head and his heart was like to burst and the Caliph laughed long and loud. And when the writ was written and finished, the writer cut off from the skirt of his gown according to the measure of the writing and gave it to Harun; then he rose up to fare forth but he was ashamed to wear a robe in rags, so he stripped it off and said to the old woman, “O my mother, present this to anyone deserving it.” And so saying he left the house. Hereupon quoth the old woman to the Caliph, “Dost thou not pay unto the Kazi his fee for coming to thee in person and writing the writ upon his robe which he was obliged to throw away?” “Let him go,” said the Caliph, “I will not give him aught.” Cried she, “And why? Oh, how greedy are these robbers! the man came to us in hopes of gain and we have stripped him instead of robing him.” Harun laughed again, then he arose and said to her, “I now hie me home to fetch thee the gold and the stuffs wherewith to clothe my bride,” and the crone cried out, “Robber, whence shalt thou find cloth and coin? unhappy some one whom thou designest to seize and deprive of his daily bread and reduce to poverty and penury!” The Commander of the Faithful held his peace and went forth intending for his Palace, where he donned the royal robes and taking seat upon his throne bade summon marble-cutters and carpenters and plasterers and house-painters. Then, as they came to the presence and kissed ground and blessed him and prayed for the permanence of his empire, he had them thrown and bade administer to them a bastinado of two hundred sticks a head.132 And when they prayed for mercy and said to him, “O our lord, the Commander of the Faithful, what be our crime?” he said to the artizans, “The hall such-and-such in the Darb-al-Záji,133 do ye wot it well?” They replied, “Yes,” and he resumed, “I desire that ye fare thither forthright and ye repair the walls with marble-slabs and should mid-afternoon come on and ye leave unfinished a place as big as a man’s palm, I will hack off your hands and place them in lieu thereof.” “O Prince of True Believers,” asked they, “how shall we do seeing that we have no marble?”134 He answered, “Take it from the government stores135 and collect each and every stone-cutter in Baghdad. But do you all bear in mind that, if the household enquire who sent you, ye must reply, ‘Thy son-in-law;’ and should they demand, ‘What is his craft,’ say, ‘We ken not;’ and when they require to know his name declare it to be Al-Bundukani. And whoso of you shall speak aught beyond this him will I crucify.” So the master-mason went forth and gathered together the stone-cutters and took marble and ashlar from the stores and set the material on the backs of beasts with all other needs and he repaired to the hall,136 and entered with his company. Hereat the old woman asked “What is’t ye want?” “We would slab the floors and walls of this dwelling with marble!” “And who was it sent you?” “Thy son-in-law!” “And what may be his business?” “We know not.” “Then what is his name?” “A1-Bundukani,” they replied. So she said to herself, “He is naught but a Robber and Captain of thieves.” Then the masons divided and marked out the ground, and each found that each and every had to pave and slab a surface of a cubit or less. Such was their case; but as concerneth the Caliph, he turned him to the chief Carpenter, and looking at him keenly said, “Go thou likewise and assemble all thy fellows in the capital: then do thou repair to the dwelling of Such-an-one and make the doors and so forth, in fact everything needed of carpentry and joinery, taking thee all the requisites from the public warehouses; nor let the afternoon come on ere thou shalt have finished, and if all be not done I will strike thy neck.” He also charged them even as he had charged the marble-cutters never to divulge his dignity or even his name other than Al-Bundukani. So the chief Carpenter went and, gathering his craftsmen, took planks and nails and all his needs, after which they repaired to the lodging and entered, and setting up their scaffoldings137 fell to work while the head man marked off a task for each hand. But the crone was consterned and cried to the men, “And why? Who hath sent you?” “Thy son-in-law!” “And what may be his trade?” “We know not.” “Then what may be his name?” “Al-Bundukani.” So they pushed on their work, each urging his fellow, whilst the old woman well-nigh waxed Jinn-mad,138 and said to herself, “This my son-in-law, the Robber, is naught save a viceroy of the Jánn; and all this is of their fear, so that none dareth or deemeth it safe to disclose the craft or even the name of him, so much do they hold him in awe.” Lastly, the Caliph bade the plasterers and house-painters call a meeting of their brother-craftsmen and go to the government stores and thence take all their requirements of quicklime and hemp139 and so forth; and lastly, charging them as he had charged the others who forewent them, he said, “As soon as the Izán of mid-afternoon prayer shall be cried, if any one of you shall have left in the lodging work unwrought, be it only the size of a man’s palm, I will hack off his hand and set it upon the unfinished stead.” Accordingly, they kissed ground and fared forth carrying with them all their requirements; and, repairing to the tenement, entered therein and slaked their lime and set up their ladders, and four or five artificers fell to working at every wall whilst the house-painters followed them. But when the ancient dame beheld this, her wits were wildered and she was utterly bedazed: so said she to her daughter, “This son-in-law of mine is none save one whose word is heard, and folk abide in awe of him; otherwise who could work all this work in a single day whenas none other than himself could have wrought the same within a twelve-month? But pity ’tis he be a Robber.” Anon she went to the plasterers and said, “Who was it sent you?” “Thy son-in-law!” “And what may be his trade?” “We know not.” “Then what is his name?” “Al-Bundukani.” After this she passed on to the house-painters and asked the same question and receiving the same reply, quoth she to one of them, “I demand of thee, by God the Great, O my son, why thou wilt not disclose to me concerning my son-in-law his name and his craft?” Thereupon quoth the wight addressed, “No man hath power to speak out, otherwise his life is lost;” and she repeated to herself, “Indeed he is none but a mighty Robber, for that the Moslems one and all dread him and his mischief.”140 Now when mid-afternoon came, the artizans had done the whole of their work; so they donned their outer dresses and went forth intending for the Commander of the Faithful, Harun the Orthodox. And when they entered all kissed ground and said, “Under the good auspices of our lord the Prince of True Believers we have wroughten the work of the house.” So he bestowed robes of honour upon them and gave them gifts that contented them, after which they fared forth about their business. Then the Caliph summoned Hammáls or porters and set in their crates articles of furniture such as carpets and counterpanes and sofa-cushions and hangings of arras and prayer-rugs, besides gear of brass and all such necessaries for the household; and to this he added two baskets containing body-raiment and kimcob or gold cloth and stuffs inworked and studded with gems; also jewellery and precious stones, pearls and what not: nor did he forget a coffer containing the eight thousand pieces of gold.141 Then he sent them upon their errand, saying, “Take up all this and bear it to such a house in the Darb al-Zaji and make it over to the ancient dame who owneth the hall; and when she asketh, ‘Who was it sent you?’ do ye answer, ‘Thy son-in-law;’ and should she enquire, ‘What is his craft?’ respond, ‘We know it not;’ and should she demand the name, declare, ‘Al-Bundukani.’ Accordingly the porters fared forth, and reaching the tenement rapped at the door, when the old woman came out and cried, “Who knocketh here?” and they replied “Open and take what we have brought of cloth and clothes and so forth.” But when she looked upon the loads she wailed and cried, “Indeed ye have wandered from the way: whence could all this prosperity have befallen us? return with it to the owner thereof.” They asked her, “Is not this hall that which was builded this day?” And when she answered, “Yes,” quoth they, “Then ’twas hither thy son-in-law sent us.” With these words they went in and set down whatso was with them, but the old woman wailed and cried aloud, “’Tis not for us: ye have wandered from your way.” “It is for you, indeed,” they rejoined, “and thy son-in-law saith, ‘Adorn your dwelling and don the stuffs and dress therewith whomso you choose:’ as for him, he hath much business yet will he come to you what time the folk sleep.” “Yes, indeed,” quoth she to herself, “Robbers never do come save by night.” And when the Hammals went their ways the old woman fared forth to her neighbours and summoned them to assist her in ranging the furniture and vaiselle;142 so they gathered together and entered; and, when they beheld what had befallen, their eyes were dazed and dazzled by seeing the restoration of the hall and by the stuffs and vases therein. So they asked her, “Whence camest thou by all this, and who set for thee this dwelling in such condition and at what time? Yesterday ’twas a ruin and showed neither marble nor whitewash nor stencilling. Can it not be that we are sleeping and haply that we see a dream-house?” She replied, “No vision is this, but evidence of eye-sight: and what work ye behold was wrought by my son-in-law during this one day and to-day also he sent me these stuffs and other matters whereon ye look.” “And who may be thy son-in-law?” asked they, “and when didst thou wed thy daughter while we wotted naught thereof?” Answered she, “To-day all this happened;” and they rejoined, “And what may be the bridegroom’s calling? haply he is a mighty merchant or an Emir.” “Nor merchant nor Emir,” quoth she, “but a Robber and the Head and Captain of Bandits!” Hereat the women were startled and cried, “Allah upon thee, do thou charge him anent us that he plunder not aught from our houses, seeing that we have a claim of neighbourhood and gossipry upon you.” “Never fear,” she replied, “he is not wont to take aught of neighbours albeit he be a Viceregent of the Jann.” So their hearts were heartened, and they fell to ordering the furniture and decorations; and, when they had ended the ordinance of the house, they applied themselves to dressing the bride; and they brought her a tirewoman and robed her in the finest robes and raiment and prepared her and adorned her with the choicest ornaments. And while they did thus behold, up came other porters carrying crates of meat, such as pigeon-poults and poultry, Katás,143 and quails,144 lambs and butcher’s meat, clarified butter and other cooking material, with all manner of edibles and delicacies such as sugar and Halwá-confections and the like thereof. The Hammals then said to the household, “‘Take ye this which your son-in-law hath sent to you saying, ‘Do ye eat and feed your neighbours and whomso ye please.’” Quoth the old woman, “I ask you, for Allah’s sake, to let me know what may be my son-in-law’s craft and his name;” and quoth they, “His name is Al-Bundukani, but what his business may be we know not;” and so saying they went their ways. Hereupon exclaimed certain of the women who were present, “By the Apostle, he is naught but a robber;” while others who had claims upon the old housemistress cried, “Be whatever may be, before the man who can do after this fashion all the folk in Baghdad are helpless.” Presently they served the provision and all ate their sufficiency; then they removed the trays and set on others loaded with the confections which they also enjoyed; and at last after dividing the orts amongst the neighbours they reserved some of the best of meats and sweetmeats for the bridegroom’s supper. In due time a report was bruited about the quarter that the old woman had wedded her daughter with a robber who had enriched them with what booty he had brought them. And these tidings spread from folk to folk till they reached the young merchant of whom mention hath been made, the same who had sought the maiden to wife and who had not wedded her because refused by her mother. Also he was told that the damsel had been married to a robber who had rebuilt the hall with marble, and the plasterers and painters and carpenters and joiners had wrought therein works which astounded the beholders; moreover that the bridegroom had sent them of stuffs and jewellery a matter beyond count or compute. Hearing this report he found the matter grievous on him and the fire of envy flamed in his heart and he said to himself, “Naught remaineth to me except that I wend me to the Wálí145 and tempt him with promises and thereby work the ruin of this robber and take the damsel to myself.” With these words he rose up sans stay or delay and, going to the Chief of Police related to him all that occurred and promised him a muchel of money, saying, “Whatso thou wantest can be gotten from this robber inasmuch as he owneth good galore.” The Wali rejoiced and replied, “Be patient until after supper-tide when the thief shall have returned home and we will go and catch him and thou shalt carry away the young lady.” So the trader blessed him and took himself off and waited at home until it was supper-time and the streets were void of folk. Presently Názúk146 the Wali mounted horse with four hundred headsmen and smiters of the sword, link-boys and low fellows,147 bearing cressets and paper-lanthorns under four head constables and rode to the house of the old woman. Now all the gossips had departed to their abodes and were dispersed, nor did one of them remain behind; but the household had lighted wax candles and was expecting the bridegroom with bolted doors when behold, the Chief of Police came up and finding all shut bade his men knock with an easy rap. This was heard by those within the hall and the ancient dame sprang up and went to the entrance, whence she espied gleams of light athwart the door-chinks and when she looked out of the window she saw the Wali and his merry men crowding the street till the way was cut. Now the Chief had a lieutenant Shamámah148 hight, which was a meeting-place of ill manners and morals; for naught was dearer to him save the straitening of a Moslem, nor was there upon his body a single hair which affected or aided the veiling of Allah.149 Brief he was, even as the poet said,
“Whoreson and child of thousand pagans twain;
Son of the Road to lasting sin and bane;
The Lord of Ruth ne’er grew him e’en a hair
Was not with this or that of contact fain!”150
Now this man, who was standing beside the Chief of Police, seized the opportunity of saying, “O Emir, what booteth our standing idle in this stead? Better ’twere that we break down the door and rush in upon them and snatch what we want and loot all the stuffs in the house.” Hereat came forward another lieutenant who was called Hasan151— the Handsome — for that his face was fair and his works were fairer and he was a meeting-place of fairest deeds; and the same was wont to stand at the Wali’s door as a symbol of ruth to mankind. So he came forward and said, “O Emir, this were not the rede which is right and yonder man’s words lack good counsel, seeing that none hath complained against this folk and we know not an the accused be a thief or not: furthermore we fear consequences for that haply this merchant speaketh with an object, they having forbidden his marrying the girl: do not therefore cast thyself into that shall harm thee, but rather let us enquire anent the matter openly and publicly; and should it prove to be as reported, then the Emir’s opinion shall prevail.” All this took place while the old woman heard from behind the door whatso they said. Hereat she dried up with dread and affright and going within acquainted her daughter with what had occurred and ended with, “The Wali still is standing at the door.” The young lady was sore terrified and said to her mother, “Do thou bar152 the entrance till Allah haply deign bring us comfort.” So the old woman fared forth and bolted and barred it yet more straitly; and when they knocked a second time she acknowledged the rap by “Who is at the door?” and the lieutenant Shamamah replied to her and said, “O ill-omened old woman, O accomplice of robbers, knowest thou not that he who rappeth is the Master of Police and his young men? So open to us forthright.” Quoth she, “We be Haríms and ne’er a man with us, therefore we will not open to any;” and quoth he, “Open, or we will break it down.” The old woman made no reply but returning to her daughter within said to her, “Now look at this Robber and how from the first of this night we have been humbled for his sake: yet had he fallen into this trap his life had been taken, and would Heaven he may not come now and be made prisoner by them. Ah me! Were thy father on life the Wali never had availed to take station at our house-door or the door of any other.” “Such be our lot,” replied the girl, and she went to the casement that she might espy what was doing. This is how it fared with them; but as concerneth the Caliph, when the folk had finished crowding the streets he disguised himself and hending in hand his pellet-bow and slinging his sword over his shoulder he went forth intending for his bride. But when reaching the head of the street he saw lanthorns and stir of crowd:153 so he approached to look and he espied the Wali and his men with the merchant standing by the Chief’s side together with the lieutenants, all save one shouting, “Break down the door and rush in and seize the old woman: then let us question her with torture until she confess where be her Robber of a son-in-law.” But Hasan the fourth officer dissuaded them saying, “O good folk, do ye fear Almighty Allah and be not over hasty, saving that hurry is of old Harry. These be all women without a man in the house; so startle them not; and peradventure the son-in-law ye seek may be no thief and so we fall into an affair wherefrom we may not escape without trouble the most troublous.” Thereupon Shamamah came up and cried out, “O Hasan, it ill becometh thee to stand at the Wali’s door: better ’twere for thee to sit on the witness-bench; for none should be gate-keepers to a head policeman save they who have abandoned good deeds and who devour ordure154 and who ape the evil practices of the populace.” All this and the Caliph overheard the fellow’s words and said to himself, “’Tis well! I will indeed gladden thee, O Accurst.” Then he turned and espied a street which was no thoroughfare, and one of its houses at the upper end adjoined the tenement wherein was his bride; so he went up to it and behold, its gateway showed a curtain drawn across and a lamp hung up and an Eunuch sitting upon the door-bench. Now this was the mansion of a certain noble who was lord over a thousand of his peers and his name was the Emir Yúnas:155 he was an angry man and a violent; and on the day when he had not bastinado’d some wight he would not break his fast and loathed his meat for the stress of his ill-stomach. But when the Eunuch saw the Caliph he cried out at him and sprang up to strike him exclaiming, “Woe to thee! art thou Jinn-mad? whither going?” But the Commander of the Faithful shouted at him saying, “Ho! thou ill-omened slave!” and the chattel in his awe of the Caliphate fancied that the roar was of a lion about to rend him and he ran off and entered the presence of his owner quivering with terror. “Woe to thee!” said his master; “what hath befallen thee?” and he, “O my lord, the while I was sitting at the gate suddenly a man passed up the street and entered the house-door; and, when I would have beaten him, he cried at me with a terrible voice saying, ‘Ho, thou ill-omened slave!’ So I fled from him in affright and came hither to thee.” Now when the Emir Yunas heard his words, he raged with such excessive rage that his soul was like to leave his body and he cried out saying, “Since the man addressed thee as ‘ill-omened slave,’ and thou art my chattel, I therefore am servile and of evil-omen. But indeed I will show him his solace!” He then sprang to his feet and hent in hand a file-wrought mace156 studded with fourteen spikes, wherewith had he smitten a hill he had shivered it; and then he went forth into the street muttering, “I, ill-omened!”157 But the Caliph seeing him recognised him straitway and cried, “Yunas!” whereat the Emir knew him by his voice, and casting the mace from his hand kissed ground and said, “’Tis well, O Commander of the Faithful!” Harun replied, “Woe to thee, dog! whilst thou art the Chief of the Emirs shall this Wali, of men the meanest, come upon thy neighbours and oppress them and terrify them (these being women and without a man in the house), and yet thou holdest thy peace and sittest in ease at home nor goest out to him and ejectest him by the foulest of ejections?” Presently the other replied, “O Prince of True Believers, but for the dread of thee lest thou say, ‘This be the warder of the watch, why hast thou exceeded with him?’ I would have made for him a night of the fulsomest, for him and for those with him. But an the Caliph command I will forthright break them all to bits nor leave amongst them a sound man; for what’s the worth of this Wali and all his varlets?” “First admit us to thy mansion,” quoth the Commander of the Faithful; so they passed in and the housemaster would have seated his visitor for the guest-rite but he refused all offers and only said, “Come up with us to the terrace-roof.” Accordingly they ascended and found that between it and the dwelling of the bride was but a narrow lane; whereupon quoth the Caliph, “O Yunas, I would find a place whence I can look down upon these women.” “There is no other way,” quoth the other, “save herefrom; and, if thou desire, I will fetch thee a ladder158 and plant it in such wise that thou canst pass across.” “Do so,” rejoined the other, and the Emir bringing a ladder disposed it after bridge fashion that the Caliph crossed over the lane to the house on the other side. Then quoth he, “Go sit thee in thy stead, and when I want thee I will call.” Yunas did as he was bidden and remained on the watch for his lord’s summons. But the Prince of True Believers walked over the terrace-roof with the lightest tread and not audible, lest his footsteps frighten the inmates, till he came to the parapet159 and looking adown therefrom upon the hall he saw a site like the Garden of Paradise which had been newly pranked and painted, whilst the lighted wax-candles and candelabra showed the young lady, the bride, sitting upon her bedstead adorned with gems and jewellery. She was like a Sun shedding sheen in sky serene, or a full moon at the fullest seen, with brow flower-bright and eyes black and white and beauty-spots fresh as greenth to the sight; brief she was as one of whom the poet saith,
“She’s a wonder! her like none in universe see,
For beauty and graces and softest blee:
That fairest of blossoms she blooms on earth
Than gardens the sheeniest sheenier she:
And soft is the rose of her cheek to the touch
’Twixt apple’s and Eglantine’s lenity,
And the forelock-falls on the brow of her
Death-doom to the World and the Faith decree;
And she shames the branchlet of Basil when
She paces the Garden so fair and free.
An water doubted her soft sweet gait
She had glided with water o’er greenery:
When she walketh the world like the Húr al-Ayn160
By the tongue of looks to her friends say we:—
‘O Seeker, an soughtest the heart of me
Heart of other thou never hadst sought for thee:
O lover, an filled thee my love thou ne’er
‘Mid lovers hadst dealt me such tyranny.
Praise Him who made her an idol for man
And glory to Him who to her quoth ‘BE’!’”
The Caliph was astonishment-struck at what he sighted of her beauty and loveliness whilst her mother stood before her saying, “O my child, how shall be our case with these tyrants,161 especially we being women and sans other recourse save Allah Almighty? Would Heaven I wot whence came to us this Robber who, had thy sire been on life, would have been far from able to stand at the door. But this is the doom of Destiny upon us by God’s will.” Replied the young lady, “O mother mine, and how long wilt thou put me to shame for this young man and call him ‘Robber,’ this whom the Almighty hath made my portion; and haply had he been a good man and no thief he had been given to some other?162 However he is my lot, and lauds to the Lord and gratitude for that He hath bestowed and made my portion.” When the ancient dame heard these words she pursued, “I hope to Heaven, O my daughter, that thy portion may not come hither this night, otherwise sore I fear they will seize him and do him a harm and well-away for his lost youthtide!” All this took place between mother and daughter whilst the Caliph stood upon the terrace-roof listening to their say, and presently he picked up a pebble the size of a vetchling163 and, setting it between his thumb and forefinger, jerked it at the wax candle which burned before the young lady and extinguished the light. “Who put out yon taper?” cried the old woman, “and left the others afire?” and so saying she rose and lighted it again. But Harun took aim at that same and jerking another pebble once more extinguished it and made her exclaim, “Ah me! what can have put out this also?” and when the quenching and quickening were repeated for the third time she cried with a loud voice saying, “Assuredly the air must have waxed very draughty and gusty; so whenever I light a candle the breeze bloweth it out.” Hereat laughed the young lady and putting forth her hand to the taper would have lit it a third time when behold, her finger was struck by a pebble and her wits fled her head. But as the mother turned towards the terrace-wall the first glance showed to her sight her son-in-law there sitting, so she cried to her daughter “O my child, behold thy bridegroom whence he cometh unto thee, but robbers arrive not save by the roof, and had he not been a housebreaker he would have entered by the door. However Alhamdolillah that he hath chosen the way of our terrace, otherwise they had captured him;” presently adding, “Woe to thee, O miserable, fly hence or the watch at the door shall seize thee and we women shall not avail to release thee after thou fallest into their hands; nor will any have ruth upon thee; nay, they will cut off at least one of thine extremities. So save thyself and vanish so as not to lapse into the grip of the patrol.” But hearing these her words he laughed and said to her, “Do thou open to me the terrace-wicket that I come down to you and see how to act with these dogs and dog-sons.” She replied, “Woe to thee, O miserable, deemest thou these be like unto that poor Kazi who snipped his gown in fear of thee: he who now standeth at the door is Nazuk Wali and hast thou authority over him also?” He repeated, “Open to me that I may come down, otherwise I will break in the door;” so she unbolted the terrace-wicket and he descended the stairs and entered the hall where he took seat beside his bride and said, “I am an-hungered; what have ye by way of food?” The ancient dame cried, “And what food shall go down grateful to thy stomach and pleasant when the police are at the door?” and he replied, “Bring me what ye have and fear not.” So she arose and served up to him whatso remained of meat and sweetmeat and he fell to morselling164 them with mouthfuls and soothing them with soft words till they had their sufficiency of victual, after which she, the mother-in-law, removed the tray. Meanwhile the Chief of Police and his varlets stood shouting at the door and saying, “Open to us, otherwise we will break in.” Presently quoth the Caliph to the old trot, “Take this seal-ring and go thou forth to them and place it in the Wali’s hands. An he ask thee, ‘Who is the owner of this signet?’ answer thou, ‘Here is he with me;’ and if he enquire of thee, ‘What doth he wish and what may he want?’ do thou reply, ‘He requireth a ladder of four rungs and its gear, not forgetting a bundle of rods;165 also do thou, O man, enter with four of thy lieutenants and see what else he demandeth.’” When the ancient dame heard this from him she exclaimed, “And doth the Wali also dread thee or fear this seal-ring? My only fear is that they may now seize me and throw me and beat me with a bastinado so painful that it will be the death of me, and they hearken not to a word of mine, nor suffer thee to avail me aught.” Rejoined the Caliph, “Be not alarmed, he shall not be able to gainsay my word;” and she, “An the Wali fear thee and give ear to thee, then will I gird my loins and suffer thee to teach me something of thy craft even were it that of robbing slaves’ shoon.” “Go forth without affright,” said he laughing at her words, whereupon she took the seal-ring and went as far as behind the door and no farther, muttering to herself, “I will not open it wholly but only a little so as to give them the signet; then if they hearken to what saith this Robber ’tis well, otherwise I will keep the bolt fastened as it was.” Presently she went forward and addressed the watch saying, “What is it ye want?” and Shamamah cried in reply, “O ill-omened old baggage, O rider of the jar,166 O consorter of thieves, we want the robber who is in thy house that we may take him and strike off his hand and his foot; and thou shalt see what we will do with thee after that.” She shrank from his words, but presently she heartened her heart and said to him, “Amongst you is there any who can read a whit?” “Yes,” said the Wali, and she rejoined, “Take thou this seal-ring and see what be graven thereupon and what may be its owner’s name.” “Almighty Allah curse him,” cried the lieutenant Shamamah, presently adding to the Wali, “O Emir, as soon as the old crone shall come forth I will throw her and flog her with a sore flogging; then let us enter the door and slay her and harry the house and seize the robber; after which I will inspect the signet and find out its owner and who sendeth it; then, if this be one of whom we stand in shame we will say, ‘Indeed we read not its graving before the command was somewhat rashly carried out.’ On this wise none may avail to molest us or thee.” Hereupon he drew near the door and cried to her, “Show me that thou hast, and perhaps the sending it may save thee.” So she opened one leaf of the door sufficient to thrust out her hand and gave him the ring which he took and passed to the Chief of Police. But when the Wali had considered and read the name engraved (which was that of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun the Orthodox), his colour waxed wan and his limbs quaked with fear. “What is to do with thee?” asked Shamamah, and the other answered, “Take and look!” The man hent the ring in hand and coming forward to the light read what was on it and understood that it was the signet of the Vicar of Allah. So a colick167 attacked his entrails and he would have spoken but he could stammer only “Bí, Bí, Bí”168 whereupon quoth the Master of Police, “The rods of Allah are descending upon us, O accurst, O son of a sire accurst: all this is of thy dirty dealing and thy greed of gain: but do thou address thy creditor169 and save thyself alive.” Hereat quoth Shamamah “O my lady, what dost thou require?” and quoth she to herself, “Indeed I am rejoiced for that they dread my son-in-law;” and presently she spoke aloud to him and said, “The lord of the seal-ring demandeth of thee a ladder of four rungs, a bundle of rods and cords and a bag containing the required gear,170 also that the Wali and his four lieutenants go within to him” He replied, “O my lady chief of this household, and where is he the owner of the signet?” “Here is he seated in the hall,” she replied and the Wali rejoined, “What was it he said to thee?” She then repeated the command about the Wali and the men and the bag, whereat he asked again concerning the whereabouts of the signet-owner and declared the gear to be ready, while all of them bepiddled their bag-trousers with fear.171 Then the Wali and his four lieutenants, amongst whom was Shamamah the Accurst, entered the house, and the Caliph commanded lieutenant Hasan (knowing him for a kindly man of goodly ways and loath to injure his neighbour as proved by his opposing the harshness of Shamamah), saying, “Hie thee, O Hasan, and summon forthright Yunas the Emir of a thousand!” So this lord came in all haste172 and was bidden to bastinado the Wali and Shamamah which he did with such good will that the nails fell from their toes; after which they were carried off and thrown into gaol. Then the Caliph largessed lieutenant Hasan; and, appointing him on the spot Chief of Police, dismissed the watch to their barracks. And when the street was cleared the old woman returning to the Harem said to her son-in-law, laughing the while, “There be none in this world to fellow thee as the Prince of Robbers! The Wali dreadeth thee and the Kazi dreadeth thee and all dread thee, whilst I gird my loins in thy service and become a she-robber amongst the women even as thou art a Robber amongst men, and indeed so saith the old saw, ‘The slave is fashioned of his lord’s clay and the son after the features of his sire.’ Had this Wali, at his first coming, let break down the door and had his men rushed in upon us and thou not present, what would have been our case with them? But now to Allah be laud and gratitude!” The Caliph hearing these words laughed, and taking seat beside his bride, who rejoiced in him, asked his mother-in-law, “Say me, didst ever see a Robber who bore him on this wise with the Wali and his men?” and answered she, “Never, by the life of thee, but may Allah Almighty reprehend the Caliph for that he did by us and punish him for wronging us, otherwise who was it forwarded thee to us, O Robber?” Quoth the Commander of the Faithful in his mind, “How have I wronged this ill-omened old woman that she curseth me?” and presently he asked her, “And wherein hath the Caliph done thee an injury?” She replied, “And what hath the Caliph left us of livelihood and so forth when he marauded our mansion and seized all our seisins? Even this hall was part of the plunder and they laid it waste after taking from it all they could of marble and joinery and what-not; and they left us paupers, as thou sawest, without aught wherewith to veil us and naught to eat. So had it not been that Almighty Allah favoured us with thyself, O Robber, we had been of the destroyed by famine and so forth.” “And wherefore did the Caliph plunder you?” asked he, “and what was the cause of his so doing?” She answered,173 “My son was a Chamberlain of the Commander of the Faithful, and one day as he was sitting in this our home two women asked him for a draught of water which he gave to them. Presently the elder brought him a porcelain charger full of pancakes with the tidings that it had been sent as a return gift from the young lady her companion who had drunk from his hand; and he replied, ‘Set it down and wend thy ways,’ which she did. Presently as my son sat outside his door, the Watchman came up to offer blessings on the occasion of the Greater Festival and he gave him the charger and the man fared forth; but ere an hour had sped, folk came who marauded our mansion, and seizing my son, carried him before the Caliph, who demanded of him how the charger had come to his hands. He told him what I have told thee, and the Commander of the Faithful asked him, ‘Say me sawest thou aught of the charms of the young lady?’ Now my son had on his lips to say No, but his tongue foreran him and he stammered out, ‘Yes, I espied her face,’ without really having seen her at all, for that when drinking she had turned to the wall. The Caliph hearing this hapless reply summoned the lady and bade smite both their necks, but in honour of the Festival-eve he had them carried off to prison. Such be then the reason of the wrong by the Caliph wrought, and except for this injustice and his seizure of my son, O Robber, it had been long ere thou hadst wedded my daughter.” When the Prince of True Believers heard the words of her, he said in his mind, “Verily I have oppressed these unhappiest” and he presently asked her, “What wilt thou say if I cause the Caliph to free thy son from gaol and robe him and return his fiefs to him and promote him in the Chamberlain’s office and return him to thee this very night?” Hereat the old woman laughed and made answer, “Hold thy peace! This one is no Chief of Police that he fear thee and thou work on him whatso thou willest: this one is the Prince of True Believers Harun al-Rashid, whose behest is heard both in Orient and in Occident, the lord of hosts and armies, one at whose gate the lowest menial is higher in degree than the Wali. Be not therefore beguiled by whatso thou hast done, nor count the Caliph as one of these lest thou cast thyself into doom of destruction, and there be an end of thy affair, while we unfortunates abide without a man in the house, and my son fail of being righted by him who wronged him.” But when the Commander of the Faithful heard these words, his eyes brimmed with tears for ruth of her; then, rising without stay or delay, he would have fared forth when the old woman and the young lady hung about his neck crying, “We adjure thee, by Almighty Allah, that thou draw back from this business, for that we fear greatly on thy account.” But he replied, “There is no help therefor,” and he made oath that perforce he must go. Then he fared for the Palace of his kingship, and seating himself upon the throne bade summon the Emirs and Wazirs and Chamberlains, who flocked into the presence and kissed ground and prayed for him saying, “’Tis well, Inshallah! and what may be the reason for calling us together at this time o’ night?” Said he, “I have been pondering the affair of Alaeddin the Emir, the Chamberlain, how I seized him wrongfully and jailed him, yet amongst you all was not a single one to intercede for him or to cheer him with your companionship.” They bussed ground and replied, “Verily we were awe-struck by the majesty of the Prince of True Believers; but now at this hour we implore of the Commander of the Faithful his mercy upon his slave and chattel;” and so saying, they bared their heads and kissing the floor did humble obeisance. He replied, “I have accepted174 your intercession on his account, and I have vouchsafed to him pardon; so hie ye to him and robe him with a sumptuous robe and bring him to me.” They did the bidding of their lord and led the youth to the presence where he kissed ground and prayed for the permanence of the Caliph’s rule; and the Sovran accepting this clothed him in a coat whereon plates of gold were hammered175 and binding round his head a turband of fine gauze with richly embroidered ends made him Chief Lord of the Right176 and said to him, “Hie thee now to thy home!” Accordingly he blessed the Prince and went forth accompanied by all the Emirs who rode their blood-steeds, and the Knights fared with him and escorted him in procession, with kettledrums and clarions, till they reached his mansion. Here his mother and his sister heard the hubbub of the multitude and the crash of the kettledrums and were asking, “What is to do?” when the bearers of glad tidings forewent the folk and knocked at the door saying, “We require of you the sweetmeats of good news, for the Caliph hath shown grace to Alaeddin the Chamberlain and hath increased his fiefs besides making him Chief Lord of the Right.” Hearing this they rejoiced with joy exceeding and gave to the messengers what satisfied them, and while they were thus, behold, Alaeddin the son of the house arrived and entered therein. His mother and sister sprang up and saluted him throwing their arms round his neck and weeping for stress of gladness. Presently he sat down and fell to recounting to them what had befallen him; but chancing to look around he saw that the house had changed condition and had been renovated; so he said “O my mother, the time of my absence hath been short and when was this lodging made new?” She replied, “O my son, what day thou wast seized, they plundered our abode even to tearing up the slabs and the doors, nor did they leave us aught worth a single dirham: indeed we passed three days without breaking our fast upon aught of victual.” Hearing this from her quoth he, “But whence cometh all this to you, these stuffs and vessels, and who was it rebuilded this house in a space so short? Or haply is all this I see in the land of dreams?” But quoth she, “Nay, ’tis no vision but an absolute reality and ’twas all done by my son-in-law in a single day.” “And who may be my new brother-in-law?” he enquired, “and when didst thou give away my sister, and who married her without my leave?”177 “Hold thy peace, O my son,” rejoined she, “but for him we had died of want and hunger!” “And what may be his calling?” the Emir asked, and she answered, “A Robber!” But when her son heard this he was like to choke with anger and he cried, “What degree hath this robber that he become my brother-in-law? Now by the tomb of my forbears I will assuredly smite his neck.” “Cast away from thee such wild talk,” cried she, “for the mischief of another is greater than thy mischief, withal naught thereof availed him178 with a man who wrought all thou seest in half a day.” Then she related to her son what had befallen the Kazi and the Wali from the man and how he had bastinado’d the police, showing him as he spoke the blood which had poured from their bodies upon the floor for excess of flogging; and she continued, “Presently I complained to him of my case, how the Commander of the Faithful had seized thee and imprisoned thee when he said to me, ‘At this very moment I fare to the Caliph and cause him to free thy son and suffer him to return home; also to robe him and to increase his fiefs;’ whereupon he went from us and after an hour, lo and behold! thou appearedst; so but for him we had never seen thee any more.” When her son heard these words, his wits were bewildered and he was confounded at his case, so he asked her, “What may this man be styled and what may be his name?” She answered, “We are ignorant an he have any name or not, for however much we enquired of the marble-cutters and master artificers and handi-craftsmen, they told us only that his bye-name179 is Al-Bundukani without letting us know any other. Moreover on like wise when he sent me to fetch the Kazi he bade me tell him that Al-Bundukani had summoned him.” Now when the Emir Alaeddin heard her name Al-Bundukani he knew that it was the Commander of the Faithful, nor could he prevent himself springing to his feet and kissing ground seven times; but as his mother beheld this she laughed and cried, “O thou brawler,180 ’tis as if he had met thee in the street and had given thee to drink a draught of clotted blood, one beyond the common!181 What of thy brave words when anon thou saidst, ‘I will smite his neck’?” “And dost thou know,” quoth he, “who may be the person thou so callest?” and quoth she, “Who may he be?” “The Commander of the Faithful, the Caliph Harun al-Rashid in person,” cried her son, “and what other could have done with the Kazi and the Wali and the rest what he did?” When she heard these words, she dried up with dread and cried, “O my son, set me in a place of safety,182 for he will suffer me no longer to cumber the face of earth by reason of my often speaking at him; nor did I ever cease to address him as ‘Robber.’” Now whilst they were speaking behold, came up the Commander of the Faithful, whereat Alaeddin arose and kissed ground and blessed him, but the ancient dame took to flight and hid her in a closet. The Caliph seated himself, then he looked around and, not seeing his mother-in-law, said to the Chamberlain, “And where may be thy parent?” “She dreadeth,” replied Alaeddin, ‘and standeth in awe of the Caliph’s majesty;” but Harun rejoined, “There is no harm for her.” Then he bade her be summoned whereat she appeared and kissed ground and prayed for the permanency of his kingship, and he said to her, “Erewhiles thou girdest thy waist to aid me in stealing slaves’ shoon and now thou fliest from thy teacher?” She blushed for shame and exclaimed, “Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful,” and Harun al-Rashid183 replied, “May Allah pardon the Past.” Presently he sent for the Princess, the daughter of the Chosroë and, summoning the Kazi, forthright divorced her and gave her in marriage to Alaeddin, his Chamberlain. Hereupon were spread bride-feasts which gathered together all the Lords of the Empire and the Grandees of Baghdad, and tables and trays of food were laid out during three successive days for the mesquin and the miserable. The visit of entrance was paid by the two bridegrooms on a single night when both went in unto their wives and took their joy of them, and made perfect their lives with the liveliest enjoyment. And ever after they passed the fairest of days till such time as came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of societies and all passed away and died.
90 MSS. pp.217-265. See the “Arabian Tales,” translated by Robert Heron (Edinburgh M.DCC.XCII.), where it is “The Robber-Caliph; or Adventures of Haroun Alraschid, with the Princess of Persia, and the fair Zutulbé,” vol. i. pp. 2-69. Gauttier, Histoire du Khalyfe de Baghdad, vol. vii. pp.117-150.
91 In text “Ahádís,” esp. referred to the sayings of Mohammed, and these are divided into two great sections, the “Ahádís al-Nabawí,” or the actual words pronounced by the Apostle; and the “Ahádís al-Kudus,” or the sentences attributed to the Archangel Gabriel.
92 Heron has “the Festival of Haraphat,” adding a power of nonsense. This is the day of the sermon, when the pilgrims sleep at Muzdalifah (Pilgrimage iii. 265). Kusayy, an ancestor of the Apostle, was the first to prepare a public supper at this oratory, and the custom was kept up by Harun al-Rashid, Zubaydah and Sha’ab, mother of the Caliph al-Muktadir (Tabari ii. 368). Alms are obligatory on the two great ‘I’ds or festivals, al-Fitr which ends the Ramazán fast and al-Kurbán during the annual Pilgrimage. The dole must consist of at least a “Sa’” = 7 lbs. in grain, dates, &c.
93 i.e. habited themselves in the garments of little people: so to “enlarge the turband” is to assume the rank of an ‘álim or learned man. “Jayb,” the breast of a coat is afterwards used in the sense of a pocket.
94 Either the Caliph was persuaded that the white wrist was a “promise of better things above and below,” or he proposed marriage as a mere freak, intelligible enough when divorce costs only two words.
95 In text “Nakdí” = the actual as opposed to the contingent dowry: sec vols. vii. 126; ix. 32.
96 This is said in irony.
97 In text “Bashákhín” plur. of “Bashkhánah:” see Suppl. vols. ii. 119; iii. 87.
98 In Heron he becomes “Kassera-Abocheroan.” Anushirwan (in full Anúshínrawán = sweet of soul) is popularly supposed to have begun his rule badly after the fashion of Eastern despots, and presently to have become the justest of monarchs. Nothing of this, however, is found in Tabari (ii. 159).
99 He was indignant because twitted with having married a beggar-maid like good King Cophetua. In Heron he is “moved by so sensible a reply.”
100 Plur. “Katáif,” a kind of pancake made of flour and sugar (or honey) and oil or butter.
101 Arab. “Sakká” = a water-carrier, generally a bad lot. Of the “Sakká Sharbah,” who supplies water to passengers in the streets, there is an illustration in Lane; M. E. chapt. xiv.
102 In the text “Kahbah” an ugly word = our whore (i.e. hired woman): it is frightfully
common in every-day speech. See vol. ii. 70.
103 Arab. “Sibák” usually = a leash (for falconry, etc.).
104 I have emphasised this detail which subsequently becomes a leading incident.
105 Usual formulû when a respectable person is seen drinking: the same politeness was also in use throughout the civilised parts of mediûval Europe. See the word “Hanian” (vol. ii. 5), which at Meccah and elsewhere is pronounced also “Haniyyan.”
106 In text “Yá Ta’ís,” a favorite expression in this MS. Page 612 (MS.) has “Tá‘ish,” a clerical error, and in page 97 we have “Yá Ta’ásat-ná” = O our misery!
107 As might a “picker-up of unconsidered trifles.”
108 In text “Akbá’ wa Zarábíl.” I had supposed the first to be the Pers. Kabá = a short coat or tunic, with the Arab. ‘Ayn (the second is the common corruption for “Zarábín” = slaves’ shoes, slippers: see vol. x. 1), but M. Hondas translates Ni calottes ni calecons, and for the former word here and in MS. p.227 he reads “‘Arakiyah” = skull-cap: see vol. i. 215. [“Akbá’” is the pi. of “Kub’,” which latter occurs infra, p.227 of the Ar. MS., and means, in popular language, any part of a garment covering the head, as the hood of a Burnus or the top-piece of a Kalansuwah; also a skull-cap, usually called “‘Araqín CE”>íyah.” — ST.]
109 Heron dubs him “Hazeb (Hájib) Yamaleddin.” In text “‘Alái al-Dín;” and in not a few places it is familiarly abbreviated to “‘Ali” (p. 228, etc.). For the various forms of writing the name see Suppl. vol. iii. 30. The author might have told us the young Chamberlain’s name Arabicè earlier in the tale; but it is the Ráwi’s practice to begin with the vague and to end in specification. I have not, however, followed his example
here or elsewhere.
110 i.e. Destiny so willed it. For the Pen and the Preserved Tablet see vol. v. 322.
111 This was the custom not only with Harun as Mr. Heron thinks, but at the Courts of the Caliphs generally.
112 In text “Ghiyár,” Arab. = any piece of dress or uniform which distinguishes a class, as the soldiery: in Pers. = a strip of yellow cloth worn by the Jews subject to the Shah.
113 Arab. “Zarbúl tákí,” the latter meaning “high-heeled.” Perhaps it may signify also “fenestrated, or open-worked like a window.” So “poules” or windows cut in the upper leathers of his shoes. Chaucer, The Miller’s Tale.
114 “Mayzar,” in Pers. = a turband: in Arab. “Miizar” = a girdle; a waistcloth.
115 Arab. “Kaus al-Bundúk” (or Banduk) a pellet-bow, the Italian arcobugio, the English arquebuse; for which see vol. i. 10. Usually the “Kís” is the Giberne or pellet-bag; but here it is the bow-cover. Gauttier notes (vii. 131):—Bondouk signifie en Arabe harquebuse, Albondoukani signifie l’arquebusier; c’était comme on le voit, le mot d’ordre dit Khalyfe. He supposes, then, that firelocks were known in the days of Harun al-Rashid (A.D. 786-809). Al-Bundukáni = the cross-bow man, or rather the man of the pellet-bow was, according to the Ráwí, the name by which the Caliph was known in this disguise. Al-Zahir Baybars al-Bundukdárí, the fourth Baharite Soldan (A.D. 1260-77), was so entitled because he had been a slave to a Bundukdár, an officer who may be called the Grand Master of Artillery. In Chavis and Cazotte the Caliph arms himself with a spear, takes a bow and arrow (instead of the pellet-bow that named him), disguises his complexion, dyes beard and eyebrows, dons a large coarse turband, a buff waistcoat with a broad leathern belt, a short robe of common stuff and half-boots of strong coarse leather, and thus “assumes the garb of an Arab from the desert.” (!)
116 See vol. i. 266.
117 i.e. by the Archangel Gabriel.
118 Arab. “Habbah” = a grain (of barley, etc.), an obolus, a mite: it is also used for a gold bead in the shape of a cube forming part of the Egyptian woman’s headdress (Lane M.E., Appendix A). As a weight it is the 48th of a dirham, the third of a kírát (carat) or 127/128 of an English grain, avoir.
119 In text “Mahmá” = as often as = kullu-má. This is the eleventh question of the twelve in Al-Hariri, Ass. xxiv., and the sixth of Ass. xxxvi. The former runs, “What is the noun (kullu-má) which gives no sense except by the addition thereto of two words, or the shortening thereof to two letters (i.e. má); and in the first case there is adhesion and in the second compulsion?” (Chenery, pp. 246-253).
120 In Chavis and Cazotte he looks through the key-hole which an Eastern key does not permit, the holes being in the bolt. See Index, Suppl. vol. v.
121 In text “Kábal-ki,” which I suspect to be a clerical error for “Kátal-ki” = Allah strike thee dead. See vol. iv. 264, 265. [One of the meanings of “Mukábalah,” the third form of “kabila,” is “requital,” “retaliation.” The words in the text could therefore be translated: “may God requite thee."— ST.]
122 In Chavis and Cazotte she swears “by the name of God which is written on our Great
Prophet’s forehead.”
123 Arab. “Yá Luss”; for this word = the Gr. {Greek letters}; see Suppl. vol. v. index.
124 “Al-Nátúr,” the keeper, esp. of a vineyard, a word naturalized in Persian. The Caliph asks, Is this a bon> fide affair and hast thou the power to settle the matter definitely? M. Houdas translates as Les raisins sont-ils à toi, ou bien es-tu seulement la gardienne de la vigne? [The verb záraba, 3rd form, followed by the accusative, means “to join one in partnership.” The sense of the passage seems therefore to be: Dost thou own grapes thyself, or art thou (“tuzáribí,” 2 fem. sing.) in partnership with the vineyard-keeper. The word may be chosen because it admits of another interpretation, the double entendre of which might be kept up in English by using the expression “sleeping” partnership. Perhaps, however, “tuzáribí” means here simply: “Dost thou play the part of."— ST.]
125 The innuendo is intelligible and I may draw attention to the humorous skill with which the mother-in-law’s character is drawn.
126 In text “Aská-hu ‘alakah” = gave him a good sound drubbing (‘alakah), as a robber would apply to a Judge had he the power.
127 Lest he happen to meet an unveiled woman on the stairs; the usual precaution is to cry “Dastúr!” by your leave (Persian).
128 Arab. “Khayr”— a word of good omen.
129 In Chavis and Cazotte the mother gives her daughter’s name as Zutulbé (?) and her own Lelamain (?).
130 In text “Waliyah” or “Waliyáh” = and why?
131 The “Wronged” (Al-Mazlúm) refers to the Caliph who was being abused and to his coming career as a son-in-law. Gauttier, who translates the tale very perfunctorily, has Dieu protège les malheureux et les orphelins (vii. 133).
132 This again is intended to show the masterful nature of the Caliph, and would be as much admired by the average coffee-house audience as it would stir the bile of the free and independent Briton.
133 The “Street of the Copperas-maker”: the name, as usual, does not appear till further on in the tale.
134 In text “Rukhám” = marble or alabaster, here used for building material: so “Murakhkhim” = a marble-cutter, means simply a stone-mason. I may here note the rediscovery of the porphyry quarries in Middle Egypt, and the gypsum a little inland of Ras Gharíb to the West of the Suez Gulf. Both were much used by the old Egyptians, and we may now fairly expect to rediscover the lost sites, about Tunis and elsewhere in Northern Africa, whence Rosso antico and other fine stones were quarried.
135 Arab. “Al-Hásil” also meaning the taxes, the revenue.
136 In text “Ká‘ah” = a saloon: see vols. i. 85; i. 292; and vii. 167.
137 In the sing. “Sikálah.”
138 The Jinn here was Curiosity, said to be a familiar of the sex feminine, but certainly not less intimate with “the opposite.”
139 In text “Kinnab” which M. Houdas translates étoupe que l’on fixe an bout d’un roseau pour blanchir les murs.
140 Impossible here not to see a sly hit at the Caliph and the Caliphate.
141 The writer has omitted this incident which occurs in Chavis and Cazotte.
142 In the text, “Samd” = carpets and pots and pans.
143 The Katá grouse (Tetrao alchata seu arenarius of Linn.) has often been noticed by me in Pilg. I. 226 (where my indexer called it “sand goose”) and in The Nights (vols. i. 131; iv. 111). De Sacy (Chrestom. Arab. iii pp. 416, 507-509) offers a good literary account of it: of course he cannot speak from personal experience. He begins with the Ajáib al-Makhlúkát by Al-Kazwini (ob. A.H. 674 = A.D. 1274) who tells us that the bird builds in the desert a very small nest (whence the Hadís, “Whoso shall build to Allah a mosque, be it only the bigness of a Katá’s nest, the Lord shall edify for him a palace in Paradise”); that it abandons its eggs which are sometimes buried in sand, and presently returns to them (hence the saying, “A better guide than the Katá"); that it watches at night (?) and that it frequents highways to reconnoitre travellers (??), an interpretation confirmed by the Persian translator. Its short and graceful steps gave rise to the saying, “She hath the gait of a Katá,” and makes De Sacy confound the bird with the Pers. Káhú or Kabk-i-dari (partridge of the valley), which is simply the francolin, the Ital. francolino, a perdrix. The latter in Arab. Is “Durráj” (Al-Mas’udi, vii. 347): see an affecting story connected with it in the Suppl. Nights (ii. 4O-43). In the xxiiid Ass. of Al-Hariri the sagacity of the Katá is alluded to, “I crossed rocky places, to which the Katá would not find its way.” See also Ass. viii. But Mr. Chenery repeats a mistake when he says (p. 339) that the bird is “never found save where there is good pasturage and water:” it haunts the wildest parts of Sind and Arabia, although it seldom strays further than 60 miles from water which it must drink every evening. I have never shot the Katá since he saved my party from a death by thirst on a return-ride from Harar (First Footsteps in E. Africa, p. 388). The bird is very swift, with a skurrying flight like a frightened Pigeon; and it comes to water regularly about dusk when it is easily “potted.”
144 In text “Samman” for “Sammán”: Dozy gives the form “Summun” (Hondas). The literary name is “Salwà.”
145 For Wali (at one time a Civil Governor and in other ages a Master of Police) see vol. i. 259.
146 Prob. a corruption of the Pers. “Názuk,” adj. delicate, nice.
147 In text “Jaftáwát,” which is, I presume, the Arab. plur. of the Turk. “Chifút” a Jew, a mean fellow. M. Hondas refers to Dozy s.v. “Jaftáh.” [The Turkish word referred to by Dozy is “Chifte” from the Persian “Juft” = a pair, any two things coupled together. “Mashá‘ilíyah jaftáwát wa fánúsín” in the text would therefore be “(cresset-) bearers of double torches and lanterns,” where the plural fánúsín is remarkable as a vulgarism, instead of the Dictionary form “Fawánís."— ST.]
148 So in Chavis and Cazotte: Gauttier and Heron prefer (vol. i. 38) “Chamama.” They add, “That dûmon incarnate gave out himself that Satan was his father and the devil Camos (?) his brother.” The Arab word is connected with shamma = he smelt, and suggests the policeman smoking plots.
149 i.e. concealing the secret sins of the people. This sketch of the cad policeman will find many an original in the London force, if the small householder speak the truth.
150 Qui n’ait un point de contact aver l’une de ces catégories—(Houdas).
151 In the old translations “The Hazen” (Kházin = treasurer?) which wholly abolishes the double entendre.
152 In text “Darbisí al-báb” from the Persian, “Dar bastan” = to tie up, to shut.
153 In text “Ghaush” for “Ghaushah” = noise, row.
154 “Akkál bula’hu” i.e. commit all manner of abominations. “To eat skite” is to talk or act foolishly.
155 In the old translations “Ilamir Youmis.”
156 In text “Dabbús bazdaghání,” which I have translated as if from the Pers. “Bazdagh” = a file. But it may be a clerical error for “Bardawáni,” the well-known city in Hindostan whose iron was famous.
157 “Nahs” means something more than ill-omened, something nasty, foul, uncanny: see vol. i. 301.
158 In Chavis, Heron and Co. there are two ladders to scale the garden wall and descend upon the house-terrace which apparently they do not understand to be the roof.
159 Arab. “Al-Káfi’ah” = garde-fou, rebord d’une terrasse—(Houdas).
160 Our vulgar “Houri”: see vols. i. 90; iii. 233. There are many meanings of Hawar; one defines it as intense darkness of the black of the eye and corresponding whiteness; another that it is all which appears of the eye (as in the gazelle) meaning that the blackness is so large as to exclude the whiteness; whilst a third defines “Haurá” as a woman beautiful in the “Mahájir” (parts below and around the eyes which show when the face is veiled), and a fourth as one whose whiteness of eye appears in contrast with the black of the Kohl-Powder. See Chenery’s Al-Hariri, pp. 354-55.
161 Arab. “Zalamah” = tyrants, oppressors (police and employés): see vols. i. 273, and vi. 214.
162 In text “Kunná nu’tíhu li-ahad” = we should have given him to someone; which makes very poor sense. [The whole passage runs: “Házá allazí kasam alláh bi-hi fa-lau kána rajul jayyid ghayr luss kunná nu’tí-hu li-ahad,” which I would translate: This is he concerning whom Allah decreed (that he should be my portion, swearing:) “and if he were a good man and no thief we would have bestowed him on someone.” In “kasama” the three ideas of decreeing, giving as a share, and binding one’s self by oath are blended together. If it should appear out of place to introduce Divinity itself as speaking in this context, we must not forget that the person spoken of is no less illustrious individual than Harun al-Rashíd, and that a decidedly satirical and humorous vein runs through the whole tale. Moreover, I doubt that “li-ahad” could be used as equivalent for “li-ghayrí,” “to some other than myself,” while it frequently occurs in the emphatic sense of “one who is somebody, a person of consequence.” The damsel and her mother, on the other hand, allude repeatedly to the state of utter helplessness in which they find themselves in default of their natural protector, and which has reduced them from an exalted station to the condition of nobodies. I speak, of course, here as elsewhere, “under correction."— ST.]
163 In text “Hmsh.” The Dicts. give Himmas and Himmis, forms never heard, and Forsk. (Flora Ægypt.-Arab. p. lxxi.) “Homos,” also unknown. The vulg. pron. is, “Hummus” or as Lane (M.E. chapt. v.) has it “Hommus” (chick-peas). The word applies to the pea, while “Malán” is the plant in pod. It is the cicer arietinum concerning which a classical tale is told. “Cicero (pron. Kikero) was a poor scholar in the University of Athens, wherewith his enemies in Rome used to reproach him, and as he passed through the streets would call out ‘O Cicer, Cicer, O,’ a word still used in Cambridge, and answers to a Servitor in Oxford.” Quaint this approximation between “Cicer” the vetch and “Sizar” which comes from “size” = rations, the Oxford “battel.”
164 Arab. “Yulakkimu,” from “Lukmah” = a mouthful: see vols. i. 266; vii. 367.
165 Arab. “Jarazat Kuzbán” (plur. or “Kazíb,” see vol. ii. 66) = long and slender sticks.
166 i.e. a witch; see vol. viii. 131.
167 So in the phrase “Otbah hath the colic,” first said concerning Otbah b. Rabí‘a by Abú Jahl when the former advised not marching upon Badr to attack Mohammed. Tabari, vol. ii. 491.
168 Compare the French “Brr!”
169 i.e. to whom thou owest a debt of apology or excuse, “Gharím” = debtor or creditor.
170 Arab. “Juráb al-‘uddah,” i.e. the manacles, fetters, etc.
171 The following three sentences are taken from the margin of (MS.) p. 257, and evidently belong to this place.
172 In text “Bghb” evidently for “Baght” or preferably “Baghtatan.”
173 This is a twice-told tale whose telling I have lightened a little without omitting any important detail. Gauttier reduces the ending of the history to less than five pages.
174 The normal idiom for “I accept.”
175 In text Khila’t dakk al-Matrakah,” which I have rendered literally: it seems to signify an especial kind of brocade.
176 The Court of Baghdad was, like the Urdú (Horde or Court) of the “Grand Mogul,” organised after the ordinance of an army in the field, with its centre, the Sovran, and two wings right and left, each with its own Wazir for Commander, and its vanguard and rearguard.
177 Being the only son he had a voice in the disposal of his sister. The mother was the Kabírah = head of the household, in Marocco Al-Sídah = Madame mère; but she could not interfere single-handed in affairs concerning the family. See Pilgrimage, vol. iii. 198. Throughout Al-Islam in default of a father the eldest brother gives away the sisters, and if there be no brother this is done by the nearest male relation on the “sword” side. The mother has no authority in such matters nor indeed has anyone on the “spindle” side.
178 Alluding to the Wali and his men.
179 Arab. “Kunyah” (the pop. mispronunciation of “Kinyah”) is not used here with strict correctness. It is a fore-name or bye-name generally taken from the favourite son, Abú (father of) being prefixed. When names are written in full it begins the string, e.g., Abu Mohammed (fore-name), Kásim (true name), ibn Ali (father’s name), ibn Mohammed (grandfather’s), ibn Osman (great-grandfather), Al-Hariri (= the Silkman from the craft of the family), Al-Basri (of Bassorah). There is also the “Lakab” (sobriquet), e.g. Al-Bundukání or Badí‘u’l-Zamán (Rarity of the Age), which may be placed either before or after the “Kunyah” when the latter is used alone. Chenery (Al-Hariri, p.315) confines the “Kunyah” to fore-names beginning with Abú; but it also applies to those formed with Umm (mother), Ibn (son), Bint (daughter), Akh (brother) and Ukht (sister). See vol. iv. 287. It is considered friendly and graceful to address a Moslem by this bye-name.
-Gaudent prûnomine molles Auriculû.
180 In text “Yá Kawákí,” which M. Houdas translates ”O piailleur,” remarking that here it would be = poule mouillée.
181 “‘Alakah khárijah” = an extraordinary drubbing.
182 In text “Ij’alní fí kll,” the latter word being probably, as M. Houdas suggests, a clerical error for “Kal-a” or “Kiláa” = safety, protection.
183 I am surprised that so learned and practical an Arabist as the Baron de Slane in his Fr. translation of Ibn Khaldún should render le surnom d’Er-Rechid (le prudent), for “The Rightly Directed,” the Orthodox (vol. ii. 237), when (ibid. p. 259) he properly translates “Al-Khulafá al-rashidín” by Les Califes qui marchent dans la voie droite.
We here begin,184 with the aidance of Allah Almighty, and invite the History of the Tarjumánah185 and the Kahramanah186 and the young man, the King’s son, and whatso happed between them of controversy and of contention and interrogation on various matters.
It is related (but Allah is All-knowing anent what passed and preceded us of the histories belonging to bygone peoples) that there reigned in a city of Roum187 a King of high degree and exalted dignity, a lord of power and puissance. But this Sovran was issue-less, so he ceased not to implore Allah Almighty that boon of babe might be vouchsafed to him, and presently the Lord had pity upon him and deigned grant him a man-child. He bade tend the young Prince with tenderest tending, and caused him to be taught every branch of knowledge, and the divine precepts of wisdom and morals and manners; nor did there remain aught of profitable learning wherein the Youth was not instructed; and upon this education the King expended a mint of money. Now after the Youth grew up Time rounded upon the Sovran his sire and his case was laid bare and he was perplext as to himself and he wotted not whatso he should ever do. Presently his son took heart to direct him aright, and asked, “O my father, say me, wilt thou give ear to that wherewith I would bespeak thee?” “Speak out,” quoth the King, “that is with thee of fair rede;” and quoth the youth, “Rise, O my sire, that we depart this city ere any be ware of our wending; so shall we find rest and issue from the straits of indigence now closing around us. In this place there is no return of livelihood to us and poverty hath emaciated us and we are set in the sorriest of conditions than which naught can be sorrier.” “O my child,” quoth his sire in reply, “admirable is this advice wherewith thou hast advised us, O my son, pious and dutiful; and be the affair now upon Allah and upon thee.” Hereupon the Youth gat all ready and arising one night took his father and mother without any being cognisant; and the three, entrusting themselves to the care of Allah Almighty, wandered forth from home. And they ceased not wandering over the wilds and the wolds till at last they saw upon their way a large city and a mighty fine; so they entered it and made for a place whereat they alighted. Presently the young Prince arose and went forth to stroll about the streets and take his solace; and whilst he walked about he asked concerning the city and who was its Sovran. They gave him tidings thereof saying, “This be the capital of a Sultan, equitable and high in honour amongst the Kings.” Hereupon returning to his father and mother, quoth he to them, “I desire to sell you as slaves to this Sultan,188 and what say ye?” Quoth they, “We have committed our case to Almighty Allah and then to thee, O our son; so do whatso thou wishest and judgest good.” Hereat the Prince, repairing to the Palace, craved leave to enter to the King and, having obtained such permission, made his obeisance in the presence. Now when the Sultan looked upon him he saw that his visitor was of the sons of the great, so he asked him, “What be thy need, Ho thou the Youth?” and the other made answer, “O my lord, thy slave is a merchant man and with me is a male captive, handy of handicraft, God-fearing and pious, and a pattern of honesty and honour in perfect degree: I have also a bondswoman goodly in graciousness and of civility complete in all thou canst command of bondswomen; these I desire to vend, O my lord, to thy Highness, and if thou wouldst buy them of thy servant they are between thy hands and at thy disposal, and we all three are thy chattels.” When the King heard these pleasant words spoken by the Youth, he said to him, “And where are they? Bring them hither that I behold them; and, if they be such as thou informest me, I will bid them be bought of thee!” Hereupon the Prince fared forth and informed his parents of this offer and said to them, “Rise up with me that I vend you and take from this Sultan your price wherewith I will pass into foreign parts and win me wealth enough to redeem and free you on my return hither. And the rest we will expend upon our case.” “O our son,” said they, “do with us whatso thou wishest.” Anon,189 the parents arose and prepared to accompany him and the Youth took them and led them into the presence of that Sultan where they made their obeisance, and the King at first sight of them marvelled with extreme marvel and said to them, “Are ye twain slaves to this young man?” Said they, “Yes, O our lord;” whereupon he turned to the Youth and asked him, “What be the price thou requirest for these two?” “O my lord,” replied he, “give me to the price of this man slave, a mare saddled and bridled and perfect in weapons and furniture;190 and, as for this bondswoman, I desire thou make over to me as her value, a suit of clothes, the choicest and completest.” Accordingly the Sultan bade pay him all his requirement, over and above which he largessed him with an hundred dinars; and the Youth, after obtaining his demand and receiving such tokens of the royal liberality, kissed the King’s hands and farewelled his father and mother. Then he applied himself to travel, seeking prosperity from Allah and all unknowing whither he should wend. And whilst he was faring upon his wayfare he was met by a horseman of the horsemen,191 and they both exchanged salutations and welcomings, when the stranger was highly pleased at the politeness of the King’s son and the elegance of his expressions. Presently, pulling from his pocket a sealed letter wrapt in a kerchief he passed it over to the Youth, saying, “In very sooth, O my brother, affection for thee hath befallen my heart by reason of the goodliness of thy manners and elegance of thine address and the sweetness of thy language; and now I desire to work thy weal by means of this missive.” “And what of welfare may that be?” asked the Prince, whereto the horseman answered, “Take with thee this letter and forthwith upon arriving at the Court of the King whither thou art wending, hand to him this same; so shalt thou obtain from him gain abundant and mighty great good and thou shalt abide with him in degree of highmost honour. This paper (gifted to me by my teacher) hath already brought me ample livelihood and prodigious profit, and I have bestowed it upon thee by reason of thine elegance and good breeding and thy courteousness in showing me respect.” Hereat the Youth, the son of the King, answered him, “Allah requite thee with weal and grant thou gain thy wish;” and so saying accepted the letter of that horseman with honest heart and honourable intent, meditating in his mind, “Inshallah ta’ála — an it be the will of God the Greatest I shall have good fortune to my lot by the blessing of this epistle; then will I fare and set free my father and my mother.” So the Prince resumed his route and he exulted in himself especially at having secured the writ, by means whereof he was promised abundant weal. Presently, it chanced that he became drowthy with excessive drowth that waxed right sore upon him and he saw upon his path no water to drink; and by the tortures of thirst he was like to lose his life. So he turned round and looked at the mare he bestrode and found her covered with a foam of sweat wholly unlike her wonted way. Hereat dismounting he brought out the wrapper wherein the letter was enrolled and loosing it he mopped up therewith his animal’s sweat and squeezing it into a cup he had by him drank it off and found to his joy that he was somewhat comforted. Then, of his extreme satisfaction with the letter, he said to himself, “Would Heaven I knew that which is within, and how the profit which the horseman promised should accrue to me therefrom. So let me open it and see its contents that my heart may be satisfied and my soul be joyed.” Then he did as he devised and perused its purport and he mastered its meaning and the secret committed to it, which he found as follows, “O my lord, do thou straightway on the arrival of him who beareth these presents slay him, nor leave him one moment on life; because this Youth came to me and I entreated him with honour the highmost that could be of all honouring, as a return for which this traitor of the salt, this reprobate betrayed me in a daughter that was by me. I feared to do him dead lest I come to shame amongst the folk and endure disgrace, I and my tribe, wherefore I have forwarded him to thy Highness that thou mayest torture him with torments of varied art and end his affair and slaughter him, thus saving us from the shame which befel us at the hands of this reprobate traitor.”192 Now when the young Prince read this writ and comprehended its contents, he suspected that it was not written concerning him and he took thought in himself, saying, “Would Heaven I knew what I can have done by this horseman who thus seeketh diligently to destroy my life, for that this one had with him no daughter, he being alone and wending his way without any other save himself; and I made acquaintance with him nor passed there between us a word which was unworthy or unmeet. Now this affair must needs have one of two faces; to wit, the first, that such mishap really did happen to him from some youth who favoureth me and when he saw the likeness he gave me the letter; or, on the second count, this must be a trial and a test sent to me from Almighty Allah, and praise be to God the Great who inspired me to open this missive. At any rate I thank the Most Highest and laud Him for His warding off the distress and calamity descending upon me and wherefrom He delivered me.” Then the young Prince ceased not wending over the wildest of wolds until he came to a mighty grand city which he entered; and, hiring himself a lodging in a Khan,193 dismounted thereat; then, having tethered his mare and fed her with a sufficiency of fodder, he fared forth to walk about the thoroughfares. Suddenly he was met by an ancient dame who considered him and noted him for a handsome youth and an elegant, tall of stature and with the signs of prosperity showing manifest between his eyes. Hereat he accosted her and questioned her of the city folk and their circumstances, whereto the old woman made reply with the following purport, “Here in our city reigneth a King of exalted dignity and he hath a daughter fair of favour, indeed the loveliest of the folk of her time. Now she hath taken upon herself never to intermarry with any of mankind unless it be one who can overcome her with instances and arguments and can return a sufficient reply to all her questions; and this is upon condition that, should he come off vanquisher, he shall become her mate, but if vanquished she will cut off his head, and on such wise hath she done with ninety-and-nine men of the noblest blood, as sons of the Kings and sundry others. Furthermore, she hath a towering castle founded upon the heights that overfrown the whole of this city whence she can descry all who pass under its walls.” As soon as the young Prince heard these words from the love of the King’s daughter and he passed that night as it were to him the longsomest of nights, nor would he believe that the next morn had morrowed. But when dawned the day and anon showed its sheen and shone, he arose without let or stay and after saddling his mare mounted her and turned towards the palace belonging to the King’s daughter; and presently reaching it, took his station at the gateway. Hereat all those present considered him and asked him saying, “What be the cause of thy standing hereabouts?” whereto he answered, “I desire speech with the Princess.” But when they heard these words, all fell to addressing him with kindly words and courteous and dissuading him from his desire and saying, “Ho thou beautiful youngling! fear194 Allah and pity thyself and have ruth upon thy youth; nor dare seek converse with this Princess, for that she hath slain fourscore and nineteen men of the nobles and sons of the kings and for thee sore we fear that thou shalt complete the century.” The Prince, however, would not hear a word from them nor heed their rede; neither would he be warned by the talk of others than they; nay he persisted in standing at the Palace gateway. And presently he asked admission to go in to the King’s daughter; but this was refused by the Princess, who contented herself with sending forth to him her Tarjumánah, her Linguist-dame, to bespeak him and say, “Ho thou fair youth! art thou ready and longing to affront dangers and difficulties?” He replied, “I am.” “Then,” quoth she, “hie thee to the King the father of this Princess and show thyself and acquaint him with thine affair and thine aim, after which do thou bear witness against thyself in presence of the Kazi that an thou conquer his daughter in her propositions and she fail of replying to a query of thine thou shalt become her mate; whereas if she vanquish thee she shall lawfully cut off thy head,195 even as she hath decapitated so many before thy time. And when this is done come thou back to us.” The Prince forthright fared for the monarch and did as he was bidden; then he returned to the Linguist-dame and reported all his proceedings before the King and eke the Kazi. After this he was led in to the presence of the Princess and with him was the afore-mentioned Tarjumánah who brought him a cushion of silk for the greater comfort of his sitting; and the two fell to questioning and resolving queries and problems in full sight of a large attendance. Began the Tarjumánah, interpreting the words of her lady who was present, “Ho thou the Youth! my mistress saith to thee, Do thou inform me concerning an ambulant moving sepulchre whose inmate is alive.” He answered and said, “The moving sepulchre is the whale that swallowed Jonas (upon whom be the choicest of Salams!196), and the Prophet was quick in the whale’s belly.” She pursued, “Tell me concerning two combatants who fight each other but not with hands or feet, and who withal never say a say or speak a speech.” He answered saying, “The bull and the buffalo who encounter each other by ramming with horns.” She continued, “Point out to me a tract of earth which saw not the sun save for a single time and since that never.” He answered saying, “This be the sole of the Red Sea when Moses the Prophet (upon whom be The Peace!) smote it with his rod and clove it asunder so that the Children of Israel crossed over it on dry ground, which was never seen but only once.”197 She resumed, “Relate to me anent that which drank water during its life-time and ate meat after its death?” He answered saying, “This be the Rod198 of Moses the Prophet (upon whom be The Peace!) which, when a living branch199 struck water from its living root and died only when severed from the parent tree. Now Almighty Allah cast it upon the land of Egypt by the hand of Moses, what time this Prophet drowned Pharaoh and his host200 and therewith clove the Red Sea, after which that Rod became a dragon and swallowed up the wands of all the Magicians of Misraim.” Asked she, “Give me tidings of a thing which is not of mankind nor of the Jánn-kind, neither of the beasts nor of the birds?” He answered saying, “This whereof thou speakest is that mentioned by Solomon, to with the Louse,201, and secondly the Ant.” She enquired, “Tell me to what end Almighty Allah created the creation and for what aim of wisdom did He quicken this creation and for what object did He cause death to be followed by resurrection and resurrection by the rendering men’s accounts?” He answered saying, “God created all creatures that they might witness His handicraft, and he did them die that they might behold his absolute dominion and He requickened them to the end that they learn His All-Might, and He decreed their rendering account that they might consider His wisdom and His justice.” She questioned him saying, “Tell me concerning three, of whom my first was not born of father and mother and yet died; and my second was begotten of sire and born of woman yet died not, and my third was born of father and mother yet died not by human death?” He answered saying, “The first were Adam and Eve,202 the second was Elias203 the Prophet and the third was Lot’s wife who died not the death of the general, for that she was turned into a pillar of salt.” Quoth she, “Relate to me concerning one who in this world had two names?” and he answered saying, “This be Jacob, sire of the Twelve Tribes, to whom Allah vouchsafed the title of Israel, which is Man with El or God.”204 She said, “Inform me concerning the Nákús, or the Gong,205 who was the inventor thereof and at what time was it first struck in this world?” He answered saying, “The Gong was invented by Noah, who first smote upon it in the Ark.” And after this she stinted not to question him nor he to ree her riddles until evening fell, when quoth the King’s daughter to the Linguist-dame, “Say thou to the young man that he may now depart, and let him come to me betimes next morning when, if I conquer him, I will give him drink of the cup his fellows drained; and, should he vanquish me, I will become his wife.” Then the Tarjumánah delivered her message word for word, and the Youth went forth from the Princess with fire aflame in his heart and spent the longest of nights hardly believing that the morn would morrow. But when day broke and the dawn came with its sheen and shone upon all mankind, he arose from his sleep and fared with the first light to the palace where the King’s daughter bade the Linguist-dame introduce him, and when he came in ordered him to be seated. As soon as he had taken seat she gave her commands to the Tarjumánah, who said, “My lady directeth thee to inform her what may be the tree bearing a dozen boughs, each clothed with thirty leaves and these of two colours, one half white and the other moiety black?” He answered saying, “Now that tree is the year, and its twelve branches are the dozen months, while the thirty leaves upon each of these are the thirty white days and the thirty black nights.” Hereat quoth she, “Tell me, what tree was it bore many a bough and manifold leaves which presently became flesh and blood?” He answered saying, “This was the Rod of Moses the Prophet (upon whom be The Peace!) which was at first a tree but which after cutting became a serpent with flesh and blood.” Continued she, “Inform me what became of Moses’ Rod and Noah’s Ark, and where now be they?” He answered saying, “They are at this tide sunken in the Lake of Tabariyyah,206 and both, at the end of time, will be brought out by a man hight Al-Násirí.207 She pursued, “Acquaint me with spun yarn, whence did it originate and who was it first practised spinning the same?” He answered, saying, “Almighty Allah from the beginning of mankind ordered the Archangel Gabriel to visit Eve and say to her, ‘Spin for thyself and for Adam waistcloths wherewith ye may veil your persons.’”208 She enquired, “Tell me concerning the Asáfír,209 and why they were so called, and who first named them with such name?” He answered saying, “There was in the days of the Moses the Prophet (upon whom be The Peace!) a fowl called Fír, and in the time of Solomon the King (upon whom be The Peace!) all the birds paid him obedience, even as did all the beasts, and albeit each and every created thing was subject to the Prophet, withal this Fír would not show submission: so the Wise King sent a body of birds to bring him into the presence, but he refused to present himself. Presently they returned to the Prophet who asked them, “Where be Fír?” and they answered, “O our lord, ‘Asá Fír,’210 whence that name hath clung to the fowls.” She resumed, “Inform me of the two Stationaries and the two Moveables and the two Conjoineds and the two Disjoineds by jealousy and the twain which be eternal Foes.” He answered saying, “Now the two Stationaries be Heaven and Earth and the two Moveables are the Sun and the Moon; the two Conjoineds are Night and Day and the two Disjoineds by jealousy are the Soul and the Body and the two Hostiles are Death and Life.”211 On this wise the Linguist-dame ceased not to question him and he to reply solving all her problems until eve closed in. Then she bade him go forth that night and on the next day come again to her. Accordingly, the young Prince returned to his Khan and no sooner had he made sure that the morn had morrowed than he resolved to see if that day would bring him aught better than had come to him before. So arising betimes he made for the palace of the King’s daughter and was received and introduced by the Tarjumánah who seated him as was her wont and presently she began, saying, “My lady biddeth thee inform her of a thing which an a man do that same ’tis unlawful; and if a man do not that same ’tis also unlawful.” He answered, saying, “I will: this be the prayer212 of a drunken man which is in either case illegal.” Quoth she, “Tell me how far is the interval between Heaven and Earth?” and he answered saying, “That bridged over by the prayer of Moses the Prophet213 (upon him be The Peace!) whom Allah Almighty saved and preserved.” She said, “And how far is it betwixt East and West?” whereto he answered saying, “The space of a day and the course of the Sun wending from Orient unto Occident.” Then she asked, “Let me know what was the habit214 of Adam in Paradise?” and he answered saying, “Adam’s habit in Eden was his flowing hair.”215 She continued, “Tell me of Abraham the Friend (upon whom be The Peace!) how was it that Allah chose him out and called him ‘Friend?’”216 He answered saying, “Verily the Lord determined to tempt and to test him albeit he kenned right clearly that the Prophet was free of will yet fully capable of enduring the trial; natheless, He resolved to do on this wise that he might stablish before men the truth of His servant’s trust in the Almighty and the fairness of his faith and the purity of his purpose. So the Lord bade him offer to Him his son Is’hák217 as a Corban or Sacrifice; and of the truth of his trust he took his child and would have slain him as a victim. But when he drew his knife with the purpose of slaughtering the youth he was thus addressed by the Most Highest Creator, ‘Now indeed well I wot that thou gatherest218 me and keepest my covenant: so take thou yonder rain and slay it as a victim in the stead of Is’hák.’ And after this he entitled him ‘Friend.’” She pursued, “Inform me touching the sons of Israel how many were they at the time of the going forth from Egypt?” He answered, saying, “When they marched out of Misraim-land they numbered six hundred thousand fighting219 men besides women and children.” She continued, “Do thou point out to me, some place on earth which is higher than the Heavens;” and he answered saying, “This is Jerusalem220 the Exalted and she standeth far above the Firmament.” Then the Youth turning to the Linguist-dame, said, “O my lady, long and longsome hath been the exposition of that which is between us, and were thy lady to ask me for all time questions such as these and the like of them, I by the All-might of Allah shall return a full and sufficient answer to one and all. But, in lieu of so doing, I desire of thy mistress the Princess to ask of her one question and only one: and, if she satisfy me of the significance I claim therefor, let her give me to drain the cup of my foregoers whom she overcame and slew; and if she fail in the attempt she shall own herself conquered and become my wife — and The Peace!”221 Now this was said in the presence of a mighty host there present, the great of them as well as the small thereof; so the Tarjumánah answered willy-nilly, “Say, O Youth, whatso is the will of thee and speak out that which is in the mind of thee.” He rejoined, “Tell thy lady that she deign enlighten me concerning a man who was in this condition. He was born and brought up in the highest of prosperity but Time turned upon him and Poverty mishandled him;222 so he mounted his father and clothed him with his mother223 and he fared forth to seek comfort and happiness at the hand of Allah Almighty. Anon Death met him on the way and Doom bore him upon his head and his courser saved him from destruction whenas he drank water which came neither from the sky nor from the ground. Now see thou who may be that man and do thou give me answer concerning him.”224 But when the Princess heard this question, she was confused with exceeding confusion touching the reply to be replied in presence of a posse of the people, and she was posed and puzzled and perplext to escape the difficulty and naught availed her save addressing the Tarjumánah and saying, “Do thou bid this Youth wend his ways and remove himself until the morrow.” The Linguist-dame did as she was bidden, adding, “And on the morrow (Inshallah!) there shall be naught save weal;” and the Prince went forth leaving the folk aghast at the question he had urged upon the King’s daughter. But as soon as he left her the young lady commanded the Tarjumánah to let slaughter somewhat of the most toothsome poultry and to prepare them for food as her mistress might direct her; together with dainty meats and delicate sweetmeats and the finest fruits fresh and dried and all manner of other eatables and drinkables, and lastly to take a skin-bottle filled with good old wine. Then she changed her usual garb and donned the most sumptuous dress of all her gear; and, taking her Duenna and favourite handmaiden with a few of her women for comitive, she repaired to the quarters of the Youth, the King’s son; and the time of her visit was the night-tide. Presently, reaching the Khan she said to her guardian, “Go thou in to him alone whilst I hide me somewhere behind the door and do thou sit between his hands;” after which she taught the old woman all she desired her do of dissimulation and artifice. The slave obeyed her mistress and going in accosted the young man with the salam; and, seating herself before him, said, “Ho thou the Youth! Verily there is here a lovely damsel, delightsome and perfect of qualities, whose peer is not in her age, and well nigh able is she to make the sun fare backwards225 and to illumine the universe in lieu thereof. Now when thou wast wont to visit us in the apartment of the Princess, this maiden looked upon thee and found thee a fair youth; so her heart loved thee with excessive love and desired thee with exceeding desire and to such degree that she insisted upon accompanying me and she hath now taken station at thy door longing to enter. So do thou grant her permission that she come in and appear in thy presence and then retire to some privacy where she may stand in thy service, a slave to thy will.”226 The Prince replied, “Whoso seeketh us let enter with weal and welfare, and well come and welcome and fair welcome to each and every of such guests.” Hereat the Princess went in as did all those who were with her, and presently after taking seat they brought out and set before the Youth their whole store of edibles and potables and the party fell to eating and drinking and converse, exchanging happy sayings blended with wit and disport and laughter, while the Princess made it her especial task to toy with her host deeming that he knew her not to be the King’s daughter. He also stinted not to take his pleasure with her; and on this wise they feasted and caroused and enjoyed themselves and were cheered and the converse between them was delightful. The Duenna, however, kept plying the Prince with wine, mere and pure, until she had made him drunken and his carousal had so mastered him that he required her person of her; however she refused herself and questioned him of the enigma wherewith he had overcome her mistress; whilst he, for stress of drunkenness, was incapacitated by stammering to explain her aught thereof. Hereupon the Princess, having doffed her upper dress, propped herself sideways upon a divan cushion and stretched herself at full length and the Youth for the warmth of his delight in her and his desire to her anon recovering his speech explained to her the reply of his riddle. The King’s daughter then joyed with mighty great joy as though she had won the world universal;227 and, springing to her feet incontinently, of her extreme gladness she would not delay to finish her disport with her wooer; but ere the morning morrowed she departed and entered her palace. Now in so doing she clean forgot her outer robes and the wine-service and what remained of meat and drink. The Youth had been overcome with sleep and after slumbering he awoke at dawn when he looked round and saw none of the company about him; withal he recognised the princely garments which were of the most sumptuous and costly, robes of brocade and sendal and suchlike, together with jewels and adornments: and scattered about lay sundry articles of the wine-service and fragments of the food they had brought with them. And from these signs of things forgotten he learnt that the King’s daughter had visited him in person and he was certified that she had beguiled him with her wiles until she had wrung from him the reply of his question. So as soon as it was morning-tide he arose and went, as was his wont, to the Princess’s palace where he was met by the Tarjumánah who said to him, “O Youth, is it thy pleasure that my lady expound to thee her explanation of the enigma yesterday proposed by thee?” “I will tell the very truth,” answered he; “and relate to thee what befel me since I saw you last, and ’twas this. When I left you there came to me a lovely bird, delightsome and perfect of charms, and I indeed entertained her with uttermost honour and worship; we ate and we drank together, but at night she shook her feathers and flew away from me. And if she deny this I will produce her plumage before her father and all present.” Now when the Sovran, the sire of the Princess, heard these words concerning his daughter, to wit, that the youth had conquered her in her contention and that she had fared to his quarters to the end that she might wring from him an explanation of the riddle which she was unable to ree or reply thereto, he would do naught else save to summon the Cohen228 and the Lords of his land and the Grandees of his realm and the Notables of his kith and kin. And when the Priest and all made act of presence, he told them the whole tale first and last; namely, the conditions to the Youth conditioned, that if overcome by his daughter and unable to answer her questions he should be let drain the cup of destruction like his fellows, and if he overcame her he should claim her to wife. Furthermore he declared that the Youth had answered, with full and sufficient answer, all he had been asked without doubt or hesitation; while at last he had proposed to her an enigma which she had been powerless to solve; and in this matter he had vanquished her twice (he having answered her and she having failed to answer him). “For which reason,” concluded the King, “’tis only right that he marry her; even as was the condition between them twain; and it becometh our first duty to adjudge their contention and decide their case according to covenant and he being doubtless the conqueror to bid write his writ of marriage with her. But what say ye?” They replied, “This is the rightest of redes; moreover the Youth, a fair and a pleasant, becometh her well and she likewise besitteth him; and their lot is a wondrous.” So they bade write the marriage writ and the Cohen, arising forthright, pronounced the union auspicious and began blessing and praying for the pair and all present. In due time the Prince went in to her and consummated the marriage according to the custom stablished by Allah and His Holy Law; and thereafter he related to his bride all that had betided him, from beginning to end, especially how he had sold his parents to one of the Kings. Now when she heard these words, she had ruth upon his case and soothed his spirit saying to him, “Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes clear and cool of tear.” Then, after a little while the Princess bestowed upon her bridegroom a mint of money that he might fare forth and free his father and his mother. Accordingly the Prince, accepting her largesse, sought the King to whom he had pledged his parents (and they were still with him in all weal and welfare) and going in to him made his salam and kissed ground and told him the whole tale of the past and the conditions of death or marriage he had made with the King’s daughter and of his wedding her after overcoming her in contention. So the monarch honoured him with honour galore than which naught could be more; and, when the Prince paid him over the moneys, he asked, “What be these dirhams?” “The price of my parents thou paidest to me,” answered the other. But the King exclaimed, “I gave thee not to the value of thy father and mother moneys of such amount as this sum. I only largessed thee with a mare and a suit of clothes which was not defraying a debt but presenting thee with a present and thereby honouring thee with due honour. Then Alhamdolillah-laud be to the Lord, who preserved thee and enabled thee to win thy wish, and now arise and take thy parents and return in safety to thy bride.” The Prince hereupon thanked him and praised Allah for the royal guerdon and favours and the fair treatment wherewith he had been entreated; after which he craved leave to receive his parents in charge and wend his ways. And when permission was granted to him, he wished all good wishes to the King and taking his father and his mother in weal and welfare he went his ways with them, in joy and gladness and gratitude for all blessings and benefits by Allah upon him bestowed, till he had returned to his bride. Here he found that his father-in-law had deceased during his absence, so he took seat in lieu of him upon the throne of the kingdom; and he and his consort, during all the days of their life in this world, ceased not eating and drinking in health and well-being and eating and drinking in joy and happiness and bidding and forbidding until they quitted this mundane scene to the safeguard of the Lord God. And here endeth and is perfected the history of the Youth, the King’s son, and the sale of his parents and his falling into the springes of the Princess who insisted upon proposing problems to all her wooers with the condition that if they did not reply she would do them drain the cup of destruction and on this wise had slain a many of men; and, in fine, how she was worsted by and she fell to the lot of this youth whom Allah gifted with understanding to ree all her riddles and who had confounded her with his question whereto she availed not to reply; when his father-in-law died, succeeded to the kingdom which he ruled so well.229
184 MSS. pp. 476-504. This tale is laid down on the same lines as “Abú al-Husn and his Slave-girl Tawaddud,” vol. vi. 189. It is carefully avoided by Scott, C. de Perceval, Gauttier, etc.
185 Lit. an interpreter woman; the word is the fem. of Tarjumán, a dragoman whom Mr. Curtis calls a Drag o’ men; see vol. i. 100. It has changed wonderfully on its way from its “Semitic” home to Europe which has naturalised it as Drogman, Truchman and Dolmetsch.
186 For this word of many senses, see vols. i. 231; ix. 221. M. Caussin de Perceval (viii. 16), quoting d’Herbelot (s.v.), notes that the Abbasides thus entitled the chief guardian of the Harem.
187 See vols. iv. 100; viii. 268. In his Introduction (p. 22) to the Assemblies of Al-Hariri Chenery says, “This prosperity had now passed away, for God had brought the people of Rum (so the Arabs call the Byzantines, whom Abú Zayd here confounds with the Franks) on the land,” etc. The confusion is not Abu Zayd’s: “Rumí” in Marocco and other archaic parts of the Moslem world is still synonymous with our “European.”
188 This obedience to children is common in Eastern folk-lore: see Suppl. vol. i. 143, in which the royal father orders his son to sell him. The underlying idea is that the parents find their offspring too clever for them; not, as in the “New World,” that Youth is entitled to take precedence and command of Age.
189 In text “Fa min tumma” for “thumma”— then, alors.
190 Such as the headstall and hobbles the cords and chains for binding captives, and the mace and sword hanging to the saddle-bow.
191 i.e. not a well-known or distinguished horseman, but a chance rider.
192 These “letters of Mutalammis,” as Arabs term our Litterû Bellerophonteû, or “Uriah’s letters,” are a lieu commun in the East and the Prince was in luck when he opened and read the epistle here given by mistake to the wrong man. Mutalammis, a poet of The Ignorance, had this sobriquet (the “frequent asker,” or, as we should say, the Solicitor-General), his name being Jarír bin ‘Abd al-Masíh. He was uncle to Tarafah of the Mu’-allakah or prize poem, a type of the witty dissolute bard of the jovial period before Al-Islam arose to cloud and dull man’s life. One day as he was playing with other children Mutalammis was reciting a panegyric upon his favourite camel, which ran:—
I mount a he-camel, dark-red and firm-fleshed; or a she-camel of Himyar, fleet of foot and driving the pebbles with her crushing hooves.
“See the he-camel turned to a she,” cried the boy, and the phrase became proverbial to express inelegant transition (Arab. Prov. ii. 246). The uncle bade his nephew put out his tongue and seeing it dark-coloured said, “That black tongue will be thy ruin!” Tarafah, who was presently entitled Ibn al-‘Ishrin (the son of twenty years), grew up a model reprobate who cared nothing save for three things, “to drink the dark-red wine foaming as the water mixeth with it, to urge into the fight a broad-backed steed, and to while away the dull day with a young beauty.” His apology for wilful waste is highly poetic:—
I see that the grave of the careful, the hoarder, differeth not from the grave of the debauched, the
spendthrift:
A hillock of earth covers this and that, with a few flat stones laid together thereon.
See the whole piece in Chenery’s Al-Hariri (p. 360), from which this note is borrowed. At last uncle and nephew fled from ruin to the Court of ‘Amrú bin Munzír III., King of Hira, who in the tale of Al-Mutalammis and his wife Umaymah (The Nights, vol. v. 74) is called Al-Nu’umán bin Munzir but is better known as ‘Amrú bin Hind (his mother). The King, who was a derocious personage nicknamed Al-Muharrik or the Burner, because he had thrown into the fire ninety-nine men and one woman of the Tamím tribe in accordance with a vow of vengeance he had taken to slaughter a full century, made the two strangers boon-companions to his boorish brother Kábús. Tarafah, offended because kept at the tent-door whilst the master drank wine within, bitterly lampooned him together with ‘Abd Amrú a friend of the King; and when this was reported his death was determined upon. Amrú, the King, seeing the anxiety of the two poets to quit his Court, offered them letters of introduction to Abú Kárib, Governor of Al-Hajar (Bahrayn) under the Persian King and they were accepted. The uncle caused his letter to be read by a youth, and finding that it was an order for his execution destroyed it and fled to Syria; but the nephew was buried alive. Amrú, the King, was afterwards slain by the poet-warrior, Amrú bin Kulthum, also of the “Mu’allakát,” for an insult offered to his mother by Hind: hence the proverb, “Quicker to slay than ‘Amrú bin Kulsum” (A.P. ii. 233).
193 See vols. i. 192; iii. 14; these correspond with the “Stathmoi,” Stationes, Mansiones or Castra of Herodotus, Terps. cap. 53, and Xenophon. An. i. 2, 10.
194 In text “Ittiká” viiith of waká: the form “Takwà” is generally used = fearing God, whereby one guards oneself from sin in this life and from retribution in the world to come.
195 This series of puzzling questions and clever replies is still as favourite a mental exercise in the East as it was in middle-aged Europe. The riddle or conundrum began, as far as we know, with the Sphinx, through whose mouth the Greeks spoke: nothing less likely than that the grave and mysterious Scribes of Egypt should ascribe aught so puerile to the awful emblem of royal majesty — Abu Haul, the Father of Affright. Josephus relates how Solomon propounded enigmas to Hiram of Tyre which none but Abdimus, son of the captive Abdûmon, could answer. The Tale of Tawaddud offers fair specimens of such exercises, which were not disdained by the most learned of Arabian writers. See Al-Hariri’s Ass. xxiv, which proposes twelve enigmas involving abstruse and technical points of Arabic, such as: “What be the word, which as ye will is a particle beloved, or the name of that which compriseth the slender-waisted milch camel!” Na’am = “Yes” or “cattle,” the latter word containing the Harf, or slender camel. Chenery, p. 246.
196 For the sundry meanings and significance of “Salám,” here=Heaven’s blessing, see vols. ii. 24, vi. 232.
197 This is the nursery version of the Exodus, old as Josephus and St. Jerome, and completely changed by the light of modern learning. The Children of Israel quitted their homes about Memphis (as if a large horde of half-nomadic shepherds would be suffered in the richest and most crowded home of Egypt). They marched by the Wady Músà that debouches upon the Gulf of Suez a short way below the port now temporarily ruined by its own folly and the ill-will of M. de Lesseps; and they made the “Sea of Sedge” (Suez Gulf) through the valley bounded by what is still called Jabal ‘Atákah, the Mountain of Deliverance, and its parallel range, Abu Durayj (of small steps). Here the waters were opened and the host passed over to the “Wells of Moses,” erstwhile a popular picnic place on the Arabian side; but according to one local legend (for which see my Pilgrimage, i. 294-97) they crossed the sea north of Túr, the spot being still called “Birkat Far’aun”=Pharoah’s Pool. Such also is the modern legend amongst the Arabs, who learned their lesson from the Christians (not the Jews) in the days when the Copts and the Greeks (ivth century) invented “Mount Sinai.” And the reader will do well to remember that the native annalists of Ancient Egypt, which conscientiously relate all her defeats and subjugations by the Ethiopians, Persians, etc., utterly ignore the very name of Hebrew, Sons of Israel, etc.
I cannot conceal my astonishment at finding a specialist journal like the “Quarterly Statement of the Palestine Exploration Fund” (Oct., 1887) admitting such a paper as that entitled “The Exode,” by R. F. Hutchinson, M.D. For this writer the labours of the last half-century are non-existing. Job is still the “oldest book” in the world. The Rev. Charles Forster’s absurdity, “Israel in the wilderness,” gives valuable assistance. Goshen is Mr. Chester’s Tell Fakús (not, however, far wrong in this) instead of the long depression by the Copts still called “Gesem” or “Gesemeh,” the frontier-land through which the middle course of the Suez Canal runs. “Succoth,” tabernacles, is confounded with the Arab. “Sakf” = a roof. Letopolis, the “key of the Exode,” and identified with the site where Babylon (Old Cairo) was afterwards built, is placed on the right instead of the left bank of the Nile. “Bahr Kulzum” is the “Sea of the Swallowing-up,” in lieu of The Closing. El-Tíh, “the wandering,” is identified with Wady Musa to the west of the Suez Gulf. And so forth. What could the able Editor have been doing?
Students of this still disputed question will consult “The Shrine of Saft el-Henneh and the Land of Goschen,” by Edouard Naville, fifth Memoir of the Egypt Exploration Fund. Published by order of the Committee. London, Trübner, 1837.
198 Eastern fable runs wild upon this subject, and indeed a larger volume could be written upon the birth, life and death of Moses’ and Aaron’s rods. There is a host of legends concerning the place where the former was cut and whence it descended to the Prophet whose shepherd’s staff was the glorification of his pastoral life (the rod being its symbol) and of his future career as a ruler (and flogger) of men. In Exodus (viii. 3-10), when a miracle was required of the brothers, Aaron’s rod became a “serpent” (A.V.) or, as some prefer, a “crocodile,” an animal worshipped by certain of the Egyptians; and when the King’s magicians followed suit it swallowed up all others. Its next exploit was to turn the Nile and other waters of Egypt into blood (Exod. vii. 17). The third wonder was worked by Moses’ staff, the dividing of the Red Sea (read the Sea of Sedge or papyrus, which could never have grown in the brine of the Suez Gulf) according to the command, “Lift thou up thy rod and stretch out thine hand over the sea,” etc. (Exod. xiv. 15). The fourth adventure was when the rod, wherewith Moses smote the river, struck two blows on the rock in Horeb and caused water to come out of it (Numb. xxi. 8). Lastly the rod (this time again Aaron’s ) “budded and brought forth buds and bloomed blossoms and yielded almonds” (Numb. xvii. 7); thus becoming a testimony against the rebels: hence it was set in the Holiest of the Tabernacles (Heb. ix. 14) as a lasting memorial. I have described (Pilgrim. i. 301) the mark of Moses’ rod at the little Hammam behind the old Phoenician colony of Tur, in the miscalled “Sinaitic” Peninsula: it is large enough to act mainmast for a ship. The end of the rod or rods is unknown: it died when its work was done, and like many other things, holy and unholy, which would be priceless, e.g., the true Cross or Pilate’s sword, it remains only as a memory around which a host of grotesque superstitions have grouped themselves.
199 In this word “Hayy” the Arab. and Heb. have the advantage of our English: it means either serpent or living, alive.
200 It is nowhere said in Hebrew Holy Writ that “Pharaoh,” whoever he may have been, was drowned in the “Red Sea.”
201 Arab. “Kaml.” The Koranic legend of the Ant has, I repeat, been charmingly commented upon by Edwin Arnold in “Solomon and the Ant” (p.i., Pearls of the Faith). It seems to be a Talmudic exaggeration of the implied praise in Prov. vi. 6 and xxx. 25, “The ants are a people nto strong, yet they prepare their meat in the summer” which, by the by, proves that the Wise King could be caught tripping in his natural history, and that they did not know everything down in Judee.
202 Isá, according to the Moslems, was so far like Adam (Koran iii. 52) that he was not begotten in the normal way: in fact his was a miraculous conception. See vol. v. 238.
203 For Elias, Elijah, or Khizr, a marvellous legendary figure, see vols. iv. 175; v. 334. The worship of Helios (Apollo) is not extinct in mod. Greece where it survives under the name of Elias. So Dionysus has become St. Dionysius; Bacchus the Drunken, St. George; and Artemis, St. Artemides the healer of childhood.
204 Gesenius interprets it “Soldier of God”; the bye-name given to Jacob presently became the national name of the Twelve Tribes collectively; then it narrowed to the tribe of Judah; afterwards it became = laymen as opposed to Levites, etc., and in these days it is a polite synonym for Jew. When you want anything from any of the (self-) Chosen People you speak of him as an Israelite; when he wants anything of you, you call him a Jew, or a damned Jew, as the case may be.
205 I am not aware that there is any general history of the bell, beginning with the rattle, the gong and other primitive forms of the article; but the subject seems worthy of a monograph. In Hebrew Writ the bell first appears in Exod. xxviii. 33 as a fringe to the Ephod of the High Priest that its tinkling might save him from intruding unwarned into the bodily presence of the tribal God, Jehovah.
206 Gennesaret (Chinnereth, Cinneroth), where, according to some Moslems, the Solomon was buried.
207 I cannot explain this legend.
208 So the old English rhyme, produced for quite another purpose by Sir John Bull in “Wat Tyler’s Rebellion” (Hume, Hist. of Eng., vol. i. chapt. 17):—
“When Adam dolve and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman?”
A variant occurs in a MS. of the xvth century, Brit. Museum:—
“Now bethink the gentleman,
How Adam dalf and Eve span.”
And the German form is:—
“So Adam reutte (reute) and Eva span
Wwer was da ein Eddelman (Edelman)?”
209 Plur. of “‘Usfúr” = a bird, a sparrow. The etymology is characteristically Oriental and Mediaeval, reminding us of Dan Chaucer’s meaning of Cecilia “Heaven’s lily” (Súsan) or “Way for the blind” (Cûcus) or “Thoughts of Holiness” and lia=lasting industry; or, “Heaven and Leos” (people), so that she might be named the people’s heaven (The SEcond Nonne’s Tale).
210 i.e. “Fír is rebellious.”
211 Both of which, I may note, are not things but states, modes or conditions of things. See. vol. ix. 78.
212 “Salát” = the formal ceremonious prayer. I have noticed (vol. iv. 60) the sundry technical meanings of the term Salát, from Allah=Mercy; from Angel-kind=intercession and pardon, and from mankind=a blessing.
213 Possibly “A prayer of Moses, the man of God,” the title of the highly apocryphal Psalm xc.
214 Arab. “Libás” = clothes in general.
215 In text “Zafar” = victory. It may also be “Zifr”=alluding to the horny matter which, according to Moslem tradition, covered the bodies of “our first parents” and of which after the “original sin” nothing remained but the nails of their fingers and toes. It was only when this disappeared that they became conscious of their nudity. So says M. Houdas; but I prefer to consider the word as Zafar=plaited hair.
216 According to Al-Mas’udi (i. 86, quoting Koran xxi. 52), Abraham had already received of Allah spiritual direction or divine grace (“Rushdu ‘llah” or “Al-Hudà") which made him sinless. In this opinoin of the Imamship, says my friend Prof. A. Sprenger, the historian is more fatalistic than most Sunnis.
217 Modern Moslems are all agreed in making Ishmael and not Issac the hero of this history: see my Pilgrimage (vol. iii. 306). But it was not always so. Al-Mas’udi (vol. ii. 146) quotes the lines of a Persian poet in A.H. 290 (=A.D. 902) which expressly say “Is’háku kána’l-Zabíh” = Isaac was the victim, and the historian refers to this in sundry places. Yet the general idea is that Ishmael succeeded his father (as eldest son) and was succeeded by Isaac; and hence the bitter family feud between the Eastern Jews and the ARab Gentiles.
218 In text “Tajui”=lit. thou pluckest (the fruit of good deeds). M. Houdas translates Tu recueilles, mot à mot tu citeilles.
219 See note at the end of this tale.
220 Amongst the Jews the Temple of Jerusalem was a facsimile of the original built by Jehovah in the lowest heaven or that of the Moon. For the same idea (doubtless a derivation from the Talmud) amongst the Moslems concerning the heavenly Ka’abah called Bayt al-Ma’mur (the Populated House) see my Pilgrimage iii. 186, et seq.
221 i.e. there is an end of the matter.
222 In text “Massa-hu’l Fakr”=poverty touched him.
223 He had sold his father for a horse, etc., and his mother for a fine dress.
224 This enigma is in the style of Samson’s (Judges xiv. 12) of which we complain that the unfortuante Philistines did not possess the sole clue which could lead to the solution; and here anyone with a modicum of common sense would have answered, “Thou art the man!” The riddles with which the Queen of Sheba visited Solomon must have been simply hard questions somewhat like those in the text; and the relator wisely refuses to record them.
225 We should say “To eclipse the sun.”
226 A very intelligible offer.
227 Arab. “Bi Asri-hi,” lit. “rope and all;” metaphorically used=altogether, entirely: the idea is borrowed from the giving or selling of a beast with its thong, halter, chain, etc.
228 In the text, “Káhin,” a Cohen, a Jewish Priest, a soothsayer: see Al-Kahánah, vol. i. 28. In Heb. Kahana=he ministered (priests’ offices or other business) and Cohen=a priest either of the true God or of false gods.
229 This ending with its résumé of contents is somewhat hors ligne, yet despite its vain repetition I think it advisable to translate it.
The Músà (Moses) of the Moslems is borrowed from Jewish sources, the Pentateuch and especially the Talmud, with a trifle of Gnosticism which, hinted at in the Koran (chapt. xviii.), is developed by later writers, making him the “external” man, while Khizr, the Green prophet, is the internal. But they utterly ignore Manetho whose account of the Jewish legislator (Josephus against Apion, i. cc. 26, 27) shows the other or Egyptian part. Moses, by name Osarsiph=Osiris-Sapi, Osiris of the underworld, which some translate rich (Osii) in food (Siph, Seph, or Zef) was nicknamed Mosheh from the Heb. Mashah=to draw out, because drawn from the water230 (or rather from the Koptic Mo=water ushe=saved). He became a priest an An or On (Heliopolis), after studying the learning of the Egyptians. Presently he was chosen chief by the “lepers and other unclean persons” who had been permitted by King Amenophis to occupy the city Avaris lately left desolate by the “Shepherd Kings.” Osarsiph ordained the polity and laws of his followers, forbidding them to worship the Egyptian gods and enjoining them to slay and sacrifice the sacred animals. They were joined by the “unclean of the Egyptians” and by their kinsmen of the Shepherds, and treated the inhabitants with a barbarity more execrable than that of the latter, setting fire to cities and villages, casting the Egyptian priests and prophets out of their country, and compelling Amenophis to fall back upon Ethiopia. After some years of disorder Sethos (also called Ramesses from his father Rampses) son of Amenophis came down with the King from Ethiopia leading great united forces, and, “encountering the Shepherds and the unclean people, they defeated them and slew multitudes of them, and pursued the remainder to the borders of Syria.” Josephus relates this account of Manetho, which is apparently truthful, with great indignation. For the prevalence of leprosy we have the authority of the Hebrews themselves, and Pliny (xxvi. 2), speaking of Rubor Egyptus, evidently white leprosy ending in the black, assures us that it was “natural to the Egyptians,” adding a very improbable detail, namely that the kings cured it by balneF (baths) of human blood.231
Schiller (in “Die Sendung Moses”) argues that the mission of the Jewish lawgiver, as adopted son (the real son?) of Pharoah’s daughter, became “learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians,” by receiving the priestly education of the royal princes, and that he had advanced from grade to grade in the religious mysteries, even to the highest, in which the great truth of the One Supreme, the omniscient, omnipotent God was imparted, as the sublime acme of all human knowledge, thus attributing to Moses before his flight into Midian, an almost modern conception of an essentially anthropomorphous Deity.
Further, that his conscious mission when he returned to Egypt was not merely the deliverance of his people from the Egyptian yoke, but the revelation to them of this great conception, and so the elevation of that host of slaves to the position of a nation, to whose every member the highest mystery of religion should be known and whose institutions should be based upon it. It is remarkable that Schiller should have accepted the fables of Manetho as history, that he should not have suspected the fact that the Egyptian priest wrote from motives of personal spite and jealousy, and with the object of poisoning the mind of Ptolemy against the learned Jews with whom he stood on terms of personal friendship. Thus he not only accepts the story that the Hebrews were expelled from Egypt because of the almost universal spread of leprosy among them, but explains at length why that loathsome and horrible disease should have so prevailed. Still Schiller’s essay, written with his own charming eloquence, is a magnificent eulogy of the founder of the Hebrew nation.
Goethe (“Israel in der Wüste”), on the other hand, with curious ingenuity, turns every thing to the prejudice of the “headstrong man” Moses, save that he does grant him a vivid sentiment of justice. He makes him both by nature and education a grand, strong man, but brutal (roh) withal. His killing the Egyptian is a secret murder; “his dauntless fist gains him the favour of a Midianitish priest-prince. . . . under the pretence of a general festival, gold and silver dishes are swindled (by the Jews under Moses’s instigation) from their neighbours, and at the moment when the Egyptians believe the Israelites to be occupied in harmless feastings, a reversed Sicilian vesper is executed; the stranger murders the native, the guest the host; and, with a horrible cunning, only the first-born are destroyed to the end that, in a land where the first-born enjoyed such superior rights, the selfishness of the younger sons might come into play, and instant punishment be avoided by hasty flight. The artifice succeeds, the assassins are thrust out instead of being chastised.” (Quoted from pp. 99-100 “The Hebrews and the Red Sea,” by Alexander W. Thayer; Andover, Warren F. Draper, 1883.) With respect to the census of the Exodus, my friend Mr. Thayer, who has long and conscientiously studied the subject, kindly supplied me with the following notes and permitted their publication.
230 “And she called his name Moses, and she said because from the water I drew him” (Exod. ii. 10).
231 The Pharoah of the Exodus is popularly supposed by Moslems to have treated his leprosy with baths of babes’ blood, the babes being of the Banú Isráíl. The word “Pharoah” is not without its etymological difficulties.
Trieste, October 11, 1887.
My Dear Sir Richard,
The points in the views presented by me in our conversation upon the Hebrews and their Exodus, of which you requested a written exposition, are, condensed, these:
Assuming that the Hebrew records, as we have them, are in the main true, i.e. historic, a careful search must reveal some one topic concerning which all the passages relating to it agree at least substantially. Such a topic is the genealogies, precisely that which Philippsohn the great Jewish Rabbi, Dr. Robinson, of the Palestine researches, and all the Jewish and Christian commentators — I know no exception — with one accord, reject! Look at these two columns, A. being the passages containing the genealogies, B. the passages on which the rejection of them is based:
| A. | B. |
|---|---|
|
1. Genesis xxiv. 32 to xxv. 25 (Births of Jacob’s sons). |
1. Gen. xv. 13. 4. The story of Joseph, beginning Gen. xxxvii. 2, gives us the dates in his life; viz., 17 when sold, 30 when he becomes Prime Minister, 40 when his father joins him. 5. 1 Chron. vi. 1-15 (Lineage of Ezra’s brother Jehozadak, abounding in repetitions and worthless). |
1. As between the two, the column A. is in my opinion more trustworthy than B.
2. By all the genealogies of the Davidian line we have Judah No. 1, Solomon No. 12. By Ezra’s genealogy of his own family we have Levi No. 1, and Azariah (Solomon’s High Priest) No. 12. They agree perfectly.
3. If there were 400 years of Hebrew (Bene Jacob) slavery between the death of Joseph and the Exodus, there were 400 - 80 = 320, between Joseph’s death and the birth of Moses. If this was so there is no truth in the accounts of Moses and Aaron being the great-grandchildren of Levi (Levi, Kohath, Amram, Aaron and Moses). In fact, if Dr. Robinson be correct in saying that at least six generations are wanting in the genealogies of David (to fill the 400 years) the same must be lacking in all the early genealogies. Reductio ad absurdum!
4. Jacob, a young man, we will say of 40, is sent to Laban for a wife. He remains in Padan Aram twenty years (Gen. xxxi. 38), where all his sons except Benjamin were born, that is, before he was 60. At 130 he joined Joseph in Egypt (Gen. xlvii. 9). Joseph, therefore, born in Padan Aram was now, instead of 40, over 70 years old! That this is so, is certain. In Judah’s exquisite pleadings (Gen. xliv. 18-34) he speaks of Benjamin as “the child of Jacob’s old age,” “a little one,” and seven times he calls him “the lad.” Benjamin is some years younger than Joseph, but when the migration into Egypt takes place-a few weeks after Judah’s speech-Benjamin comes as father of ten sons (Gen. xlvi. 21), but here Bene Benjamin is used in its broad sense of “descendants,” for in 1 Chron. vii. 6-12 we find that the “Bene” were sons, grandsons and great-grandsons. To hold that Joseph at 40 had a younger brother who was a great-grandfather, is, of course, utterly absurd.
5. According to Gen. xv. 18, the Exodus was to take place in the fourth generation born in Egypt, as I understand it.
Born in Egypt:—
| Levi (father of) Kohath | Judah (father of) Pharez, Hezron |
| 1. Amram | 1. Ram |
| 2. Aaron | 2. Amminadab |
| 3. Eleazar | 3. Nahshon |
| 4. Phinees | 4. Salma |
A conspicuous character in Numbers (xiii. 6, 30; xiv. 24, etc.) is Caleb. In the first chapter of Judges Caleb still appears, and Othniel, the son of his younger brother Kenaz, is the first of the so-called Judges (Jud. iii. 9). This also disposes of the 400 years and confirms the view that the Exodus took place in the fourth generation born in Egypt. Other similar proofs may be omitted — these are amply sufficient.
6. What, then, was the origin of the notion of the 400 years of Hebrew slavery?
If the Egyptian inscriptions and papyri prove anything, it is this: that from the subjugation of Palestine by one of the Thormes down to the great invasion of the hordes from Asia Minor in the reign of Ramses III., that country had never ceased to be a Pharaonic province; that during these four or five centuries every attempt to throw off the yoke had been crushed and its Semitic peoples deported to Egypt as slaves; that multitudes of them joined in the Exodus under Moses, and became incorporated with the Hebrews under the constitution and code adopted at Horeb (=Sinai? or Jebel Araif?). These people became “Seed of Abraham,” “Children of Israel,” by adoption, to which I have no doubt Paul refers in the “adoption” of Romans viii. 15-23; ix. 4; Gal. iv. 5; Eph. i. 5. In the lapse of ages this distinction between Bene Israel and Bene Jacob was forgotten, and therefore the very uncritical Masorites in their edition of the Old Testament “confounded the confusion” in this matter. With the disappearance of the 400 years and of the supposed two or three centuries covered by the book of Judges, the genealogies stand as facts. The mistake in the case of the Judges is in supposing them to have been consecutive, when, in fact, as the subjugations by neighbouring peoples were local and extended only over one or two tribes, half a dozen of them may have been contemporaneous.
7. Aaron and Moses were by their father Amram, great-grandchildren of Levi — by their mother his grandchildren (Ex. vi. 20). Joseph lived to see his own great-grandchildren. Moses must have been born before Joseph’s death.
8. There is one point determined in which the Hebrew and the Egyptian chronologies coincide. It is the invasion of Judea by Shishak of Egypt in the fifth year of Rehoboam, son of Solomon (1 Kings xiv. 25). Supposing the Egyptian chronology from the time of Minephtah II. to be in the main correct, as given by Brugsch and others, the thirteen generations, Judah — Rehoboam, allowing three to a century, take us back to just that Minephtah. In his reign, according to Brugsch, Pharaoh sent breadstuffs to the Chittim in “the time of famine.” The Hebrew records and traditions connect Joseph’s prime ministry with a famine. By the genealogies it could have been only this in the time of Minephtah.
9. The Bene Jacob were but temporary sojourners in Goshen and always intended to return to Canaan. They were independent and had the right to do so. See what Joseph says in Gen. i. 24-25. But before this design was executed came the great irruption of the depopulated all Palestine, in the time of Ramses III. Here was the opportunity for the Bene Jacob to enlarge their plans and to devise the conquest and possession of Palestine. According to Josephus, supported by Stephen (Acts vii. 22), Moses was a man “mighty in works”-a man of military fame. The only reasonable way of understanding the beginning of the Exodus story, is to suppose that, in the weakened condition of Ramses III., the Hebrew princes began to intrigue with the enslaved Semites-the Ruthenu of the Egyptian inscriptions — and this being discovered by the Pharaoh, Moses was compelled to fly. Meantime the intrigues were continued and when the time for action came, under one of Ramses’ weak successors, Moses was recalled and took command.
10. This prepares us for the second query, which you proposed, that is as to the numbers who joined in the Exodus.
The Masoretic text, from which the English version of the Hebrew records is made, gives the result of the census at Sinai (=Horeb) as being 603,550 men, “twenty years old and upwards, that were able to go forth to war in Israel”-the tribe of Levi not included. On this basis it has been generally stated, that the number of the Bene Israel at the Exodus was three millions. Of late I find that two millions is the accepted number. The absurdity of even this aggregate is manifest. How could such a vast multitude be subsisted? How kept in order? How compelled to observe sanitary regulations? Moreover, in the then enfeebled state of Egypt, why should 603,550 armed men not have marched out without ceremony? Why ask permission to go to celebrate a sacrifice to their God?
But there is another series of objections to these two millions, which I have never seen stated or even hinted, to which I pray your attention.
The area of Palestine differs little from that of the three American States, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut, the most densely peopled of the Union, containing by the last census a population of somewhat less than two and a half millions.
By the second Hebrew census (Numb. xxvi.) taken just before the death of Moses, the army was 601,730; from which the inference has always been drawn, that at least 2,000,000, in the aggregate, Levites 23,000 males still excepted, entered and possessed the conquered territories.
Take now one of the late maps of Palestine and mark upon it the boundaries of the tribes as given in the book of Joshua. This second census gives the number of each tribal army to be inserted in each tribal territory. Reuben, 43,750; Judah, 76,500; Benjamin, 45,600, etc., etc. By Josh. xii. the land was then divided between some 40 petty kings and peoples, 31 of whom are named as having been subjected. If, now, Joshua’s army numbered over 600,000, why was not the conquest made complete? Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut are divided into 27 counties. Suppose, now, that these counties were each a separate and independent little kingdom dependent upon itself for defence, what resistance could be made to an army of 600,000 men, all of them grown up during forty years of life in a camp, and in the full vigour of manhood? And yet Joshua was unable to complete his conquest! Again, the first subjugation of a part of the newly-conquered territory as noted in the book of Judges, was Judah and Simeon by a king of Edom.232 If Judah could put an army into the field of 76,500, and Simeon 22,500, their subjugation by a king of Edom is incredible, and the story absurd. Next comes King Eglon of Moab and subjugates the tribes of Reuben and Gad, east of the Dead Sea and the Jordan. And yet Reuben has an army of over 43,000, and Gad 45,000. And so on.
With an army of 60,000 only, and an aggregate of half a million of people led out of Egypt, all the history becomes instantly rational and trustworthy.
There remains one more bubble to be exploded.
Look at these figures, in which a quadruple increase — at least 25 per centum too great — is granted.233
| 1st Generation, | the Patriarchs, in number | 12 |
| 2nd Generation, | Kohath, Pharez, etc. | 48 |
| 3rd Generation, | Amram, Hezron, etc. | 192 |
| 4th Generation, | Aaron and Moses | 768 |
| Aggregate | 1,020 | |
| Minus 25 per cent. for deaths, children, etc. | 255 | |
| Actual number of Bene Jacob | 765 |
But Jacob and his sons brought with them herdsmen, shepherds, servants, etc. Bunsen puts the number of all, masters and men, at less than 2,000.
Let the proportion in this case be one able-bodied man in four persons, and the increase triple.
| 1st Generation, | the Patriarchs, in number | 500 |
| 2nd Generation, | Kohath, Pharez, etc. | 1,500 |
| 3rd Generation, | Amram, Hezron, etc. | 4,500 |
| 4th Generation, | Aaron and Moses | 13,500 |
| 20,000 | ||
| Minus 25 per centum as above | 5,000 | |
| 15,000 | ||
| Add the real Bene Jacob | 765 | |
| Aggregate | 15,765 |
Were these people, while Joseph is still alive, the subjects of slavery as described in Ex. i.? Did they build Pithom and Ramses, store-cities?
The number is sufficient to lead in the great enterprise and to control the mixed multitude which was at Sinai, adopted as “Bene Israel,” “Seed of Abraham,” and divided among and incorporated with the tribes; but not sufficient to warrant the supposition that with so small a force the Hebrew leaders could for a moment have entertained the project of conquering Palestine.
A word more on the statement in Ex. i. 11: “And they built for Pharaoh store-cities, Pithom and Ramses.” All Egyptologists agree that these cities were built by Ramses II., or certainly not later than his reign. If the Hebrew genealogies are authentic, this was long before the coming of Jacob and his sons into Egypt.
(Signed) A.W. Thayer
Here we begin with the aidance of Allah Almighty, the Tale of the Warlock and the Young Cook of Baghdad.234
It is related (and Allah is All knowing!) of a certain man which was a Warlock, that Destiny crave him from town to town until at last he entered Baghdad city and dismounted at a Khán of the Khans where he spent the night of arrival. Then, rising betimes next morning, he walked about the highways and wandered around the lanes and he stinted not passing from market street to market street, solacing himself with a sight of many places, till he reached the Long Bazar, whence he could descry the whole site of the city. Now he narrowly considered the land, and, lo and behold! it was a capital sans peer amongst the cities, where-through coursed the Dajlah River blended with the River Furát235 and over the united stream were thrown seven bridges of boats; all these were bound one to other for the folk to pass over on their several pursuits, especially for the pleasure seekers who fared forth to the palm orchards and the vergiers abounding in fruits while the birds were hymning Allah, the Sole, the All-conquering. Now one day as this Warlock was amusing himself amongst the markets he passed by the shop of a Cook before whom were set for sale dressed meats of all kinds and colours;236 and, looking at the youth, he saw that he was rising fourteen and beautiful as the moon on the fourteenth night; and he was elegant and habited in a habit as it had just come from the tailor’s hand for its purity and excellent fit, and one had said that he (the artisan) had laboured hard thereat, for the sheen of it shimmered like unto silver.237 Then the Warlock considering the face of this Cook saw his colour wan as the hue of metal leaves238 and he was lean of limb;239 so he took station facing him and said to him, “The Peace be upon thee, O my brother,” and said the other in reply, “And upon thee be The Peace and the Truth of Allah and His blessings: so well come to thee and welcome and fair welcome. Honour me, O my lord, by suffering me to serve thee with the noonday meal.” Hereat the Wizard entered the shop and the Kitchener took up two or three platters white as the whitest silver; and, turning over into each one a different kind of meat set them between the hands of the stranger who said to him, “Seat thee, O my son.” And when his bidding was obeyed he added, “I see thee ailing and thy complexion is yellow exceedingly: what be this hath affected thee and what is thy disorder and what limb of thy limbs paineth thee and is it long since thou art in such case?” Now when the Cook heard this say he drew a sigh of regret from the depths of his heart and the soles of his feet and quoth he weeping, “Allah upon thee, O my lord, remind me not of that hath betided me!” But quoth the other, “Tell me what may be thy disease and whereof cost thou complain; nor conceal from me thy pain; for that I am a physician and by aidance of Allah an experienced; and I have a medicine for thy malady.” Hereat the youth fell to moaning and groaning and presently replied, “In very sooth, O my lord, I have nor pain nor complaint, save that I am a lover.” The Warlock asked, “Art thou indeed a lover?” whereto the Cook make answer, “And not only a lover but a lover parted from his beloved.” “On whom hangeth thy heart, say me?” continued the Mediciner and the youth replied, “Leave me for the nonce till such time as I am quit of my business, and return to me about mid-afternoon, that I may inform thee of mine affair and acquaint thee with the case I am in.” The Warlock rejoined, “Arise now to thy work lest it be miswrought by loitering;” and so saying he ate whatso of meats had been served up to him and fared forth to thread the Bazars of Baghdad and solace himself by seeing the city. But when it was the hour of Al ‘Asr — the mid afternoon prayer — he went back to the Cook and found that by this time he had wrought all his work, and as soon as the youth sighted him he rejoiced in him and his spirits were cheered and he said in his mind, “Haply joy shall come to me from the healing hand of this Mediciner;” so he shut his shop and taking with him his customer tried him to his own home. Now this young Kitchener was of amplest means which he had inherited from either parent; so as soon as they entered his quarters he served up food and the two ate and drank and were gladdened and comforted. After this quoth the guest to his host, “Now relate to me the manner of thy story and what is the cause of thy disorder?” “O my lord,” quoth the youth, “I must inform thee that the Caliph Al-Mu’tazid bi’llah,240 the Commander of the Faithful, hath a daughter fair of favour, and gracious of gesture; beautiful delightsome and dainty of waist and flank, a maiden in whom all the signs and signals of loveliness are present, and the tout ensemble is independent of description: seer never saw her like and relator never related of aught that eveneth her in stature and seemlihead and graceful bearing of head. Now albeit a store of suitors galore, the grandees and the Kings, asked her from the Caliph, her sire refused to part with her, nor gave her neither would he give her to any one thereof. And every Friday when fare the folk to the Mosques that they pray the prayers of meeting-day, all the merchants and men who buy and sell and the very artisans and what not, leave their shops and warehouses241 and taverns242 unbolted and wide open and flock to congregational devotions. And at such time this rare maiden cometh down from her palace and solaceth herself with beholding the Bazars and anon she entereth the Hammam and batheth therein and straightway goeth forth and fareth homewards. But one Friday said I to myself, ‘I will not go to the Mosque, for I would fain look upon her with a single look;’ and when prayer-time came and the folk flocked to the fane for divine service, I hid myself within my shop Presently that august damsel appeared with a comitive of forty handmaidens all as full moons newly risen and each fairer than her fellows, while she amiddlemost rained light upon them as she were the irradiating sun; and the bondswomen would have kept her from sight by thronging around her and they carried her skirts by means of bent rods243 golden and silvern. I looked at her but one look when straightway my heart fell in love to her burning as a live coal and from mine eyes tears railed and until now I am still in that same yearning, and what yearning!” And so saying the youth cried out with an outcry whereby his soul was like to leave his body. “Is this case still thy case?” asked the Warlock, and the youth answered, “Yes, O my lord;” when the other enquired, “An I bring thee and her together what wilt thou give me?” and the young Cook replied, “My money and my life which shall be between thy hands!” Hereupon quoth the Mediciner, “Up with thee and bring me a phial of metal and seven needles and a piece of fresh Lign-aloes;244 also a bit of cooked meat,245 and somewhat of sealing-clay and the shoulder-blade of a sheep together with felt and sendal of seven kinds.” The youth fared forth and did his bidding, when the Sage took the shoulder-blades and wrote upon them Koranic versets and adjurations which would please the Lord of the Heavens and, wrapping them in felt, swathed them with silken stuff of sevenfold sorts. Then, taking the phial he thrust the seven needles into the green Lign-aloes and set it in the cooked meat which he made fast with the sealing clay. Lastly he conjured over these objects with a Conjuration246 which was, “I have knocked, I have knocked at the hall doors of Earth to summon the Jánn, and the Jánn have knocked for the Jánn against the Shaytán.” Hereat appeared to me the son of Al bin Imrán247 with a snake and baldrick’d with a basilisk and cried, “Who be this trader and son of a slave-girl who hath knocked at the ground for us this evening?” “Then do thou, O youth, reply, ‘I am a lover and of age youthful and my love is to a young lady; and unto your gramarye I have had recourse, O folk of manliness and generosity and masterful deeds: so work ye with me and confirm mine affair and aid me in this matter. See ye not how Such an one, daughter of Such an one, oppression and wrong to me hath done, nor is she with me in affection as she was anon?’ They shall answer thee, ‘Let it be, as is said, in the tail;’248 then do thou set the objects upon a fire exceeding fierce and recite then over them, ‘This be the business; and were Such-an-one, daughter of Such-an-one, within the well of Káshán249 or in the city Ispahan or in the towns of men who with cloaks buttoned tight and ever ready good fame to blight,250 let her come forth and seek union with the beloved.’ Whereto she will reply ‘Thou art the lord and I am the bondswoman.’ “ Now the youth abode marvelling at such marvel-forms and the Warlock having repeated to him these words three times, turned to him and said “Arise to thy feet and perfume and fumigate thy person and don thy choicest dress and dispread thy bed, for at this very hour thou shalt see thy mistress by thy side.” And so saying the Sage cast out of hand the shoulder-blades and set the phial upon the fire. Thereupon the youth arose without stay or delay and bringing a bundle of raiment the rarest, he spread it and habited himself, doing whatso the Wizard had bidden him; withal could he not believe that his mistress would appear. However ere a scanty space of time had elapsed, lo and behold! the young lady bearing her bedding251 and still sleeping passed through the house door and she was bright and beautiful as the easting sun. But when the youth the Cook sighted her, he was perplex” and his wits took flight with his sense and he cried aloud saying, “This be naught save a wondrous matter!” “And the same,” quoth the Sage, “is that requiredst thou.” Quoth the Cook, “And thou, O my lord art of the Hallows of Allah,” and kissed his hand and thanked him for his kindly deed. “Up with thee and take thy pleasure,” cried the Warlock; so the lover crept under the coverlet into the bed and he threw his arms round the fair one and kissed her between the eyes; after which he bussed her on the mouth. She sensed a sensation in herself and straightway awaking opened her eyes and beheld a youth embracing her, so she asked him, “Ho thou, who art thou?” Answered he, “One by thine eyes a captive ta’en and of thy love the slain and of none save thyself the fain.” Hereat she looked at him with a look which her heart for love longing struck and again asked him, “O my beloved; say me then, who art thou, a being of mankind or of Jánn-kind?” whereto he answered, “I am human and of the most honourable.” She resumed, “Then who was it brought me hither to thee?” and he responded, “The Angels and the Spirits, the Jinns and the Jann.” “Then I swear thee, O my dearling,” quoth she, “that thou bid them bear me hither to thine arms every night,” and quoth he, “Hearkening and obeying, O my lady, and for me also this be the bourne of all wishes.” Then, each having kissed other, they slept in mutual embrace until dawn. But when the morning morrowed and showed its sheen and shone, behold, the Warlock appeared and, calling the youth who came to him with a smiling face, said to him, “How was it with thy soul this night?”252 and both lovers cried, “We were in the Garden of Paradise together with the Hur and Ghilman:253 Allah requite thee for us with all weal.” Then they passed into the Hammam and when they had bathed, the youth said, “O my lord, what shall we do with the young lady and how shall she hie to her household and what shall be the case of me without her?” “Feel no grief,” said the other, “and quit all care of anything: e’en as she came so shall she go; nor shall any of Almighty Allah’s creatures know aught of her.” Hereat the Sage dismissed her by the means which conveyed her, nor did she cease to bear her bedding with her every night and to visit the youth with all joyance and delight. Now after a few weeks had gone by, this young lady happening to be upon the terrace roof of her palace in company with her mother, turned her back to the sun, and when the heat struck her between the shoulders her belly swelled; so her parent asked her, “O my daughter, what hast thou that thou justest out after this wise?” “I wot naught thereof,” answered she; so the mother put forth her hand to the belly of her child and found her pregnant; whereupon she screamed and buffeted her face and asked, “Whence did this befal thee?” The women-attendants all heard her cries and running up to her enquired, “What hath caused thee, O our lady, such case as this?” whereto she replied, “I would bespeak the Caliph.” So the women sought him and said, “O our lord, thou art wanted by our lady;” and he did their bidding and went to his wife, but at first sight he noted the condition of his daughter and asked her, “What is to do with thee and what hath brought on thee such calamity?” Hereupon the Princess told him how it was with her and he exclaimed as he heard it, “O my daughter, I am the Caliph and Commander of the Faithful, and thou hast been sought to wife of me by the Kings of the earth one and all, but thou didst not accept them as connections and now thou doest such deed as this! I swear the most binding oaths and I vow by the tombs of my sires and my grandsires, an thou say me sooth thou shalt be saved; but unless thou tell me truth concerning whatso befel thee and from whom came this affair and the quality of the man’s intention thee-wards, I will slaughter thee and under earth I will sepulchre thee.” Now when the Princess heard from her father’s mouth these words and had pondered this swear he had sworn she replied, “O my sire, albeit lying may save yet is truth-telling the more saving side. Verily, O my father, ’tis some time before this day that my bed beareth me up every night and carrieth me to a house of the houses wherein dwelleth a youth, a model of beauty and loveliness, who causeth every seer to languish; and he beddeth with me and sleepeth by my side until dawn, when my couch uplifteth me and returneth with me to the Palace: nor wot I the manner of my going and the mode of my coming is alike unknown to me.” The Caliph hearing these her words marvelled at this her tale with exceeding marvel and fell into the uttermost of wonderment, but bethinking him of his Wazir, a man of penetrative wit, sagacious, astute, argute exceedingly, he summoned him to the presence and acquainted him as soon as he came with this affair and what had befallen his daughter; to wit, how she was borne away in her bed without knowing whither or aught else. Quoth the Minister after taking thought for a full told hour, “O Caliph of the Time and the Age, I have a device by whose virtue I do opine we shall arrive at the stead whither wendeth the Princess;” and quoth the Caliph “What may be this device of thine?” “Bid bring me a bag;” rejoined the Wazir, “which I will let fill with millet;”254 so they brought him one and he after stuffing the same with grain set it upon the girl’s bed and close to her where lay her head, leaving the mouth open to the intent that when during the coming night her couch might be carried away, the millet in going and returning might be shed upon the path. “Allah bless thee, Ho thou the Wazir!” cried the Caliph: “this device of thine is passing good and fair fall it for a sleight than which naught can be slyer and good luck to it for a proof than which naught can be better proven.” Now as soon as it was even-tide, the couch was carried off as had happened every night and the grain was strown broad cast upon the path, like a stream, from the gateway of the Palace to the door of the young Cook’s lodging, wherein the Princess righted as was her wont until dawn of day. And when morn appeared the Sage came and carried off with him the youth to the Hammam where he found privacy and said to him, “O my son, an thou ask me aught touching thy mistress’s kith and kin, I bid thee know that they have indeed discovered her condition and against thee they have devised a device.” Exclaimed the youth, “Verily we are Allah’s and unto Him are we returning! What may be thy rede in this affair? An they slay me I shall be a martyr on Allah’s path;255 but do thou wend thy ways and save thyself and may the Almighty requite thee with all of welfare; thee, through whom mine every wish I have won, and the whole of my designs I have fulfilled; after which let them do with me as they desire.” The Warlock replied, “O my son, grieve not neither fear, for naught shall befal thee of harm, and I purpose to show thee marvels and miracles wroughten upon them.” When the youth heard these words his spirits were cheered, and joying with joy exceeding he replied, “Almighty Allah reward thee for me with fullest welfare!” Then the twain went forth the Hammam and tried them home. But as soon as morning morrowed, the Wazir repaired to the Caliph; and, both going to the Princess together, found her in her bower and the bag upon her bed clean empty of millet, at sight of which the Minister exclaimed, “Now indeed we have caught our debtor. Up with us and to horse, O Caliph of the Age, and sum and substance of the Time and the Tide, and follow we the millet and track its trail.” The Com mender of the Faithful forthright gave orders to mount, and the twain, escorted by their host, rode forth on the traces of the grain till they drew near the house, when the youth heard the jingle and jangle256 of horses’ tramp and the wrangle and cangle of men’s outcries. Upon this said the Cook to the Warlock, “Here they draw near to seize me, O my lord, what is there now for me to do?” and said the other, “Rise and fill me an ewer with water then mount therewith to the terrace-roof and pour the contents round and about the house, after which come down to me.” The youth did his bidding, and meanwhile the Caliph and the Wazir and the soldiery had approached the house when, lo and behold! the site had become an island amiddlemost a main dashing with clashing billows.257 But when the Commander of the Faithful sighted this sea, he was perplexed with mighty great perplexity and enquired of the Wazir, “At what time did such great water appear in this place?” The Minister replied, “I never knew that here was any stream, albe well I wot that the Tigris river floweth amiddlemost the capital; but this is a magical current.” So saying he bade the soldiery urge their horses into the water sans fear, and every one crave as he had directed until all who entered lost their lives and a many of men were drowned. Hereupon cried the Prince of True Believers, “O Wazir, we are about to destroy our host and to fare with them!” and cried the other, “How shall we act, O Caliph of the Age? Haply our first, nay our best way, is to ask help of those within the house and grant to them indemnity while they exchange words with us and we see anon what will come of their affair.” “Do as beseemeth thee,” answered the Prince of True Believers; whereupon the Minister commanded his men to cry aloud upon the household and they sued for help during a length of time. But the Sage, hearing their shouts, said to the youth, “Arise and go up to the terrace and say to the Caliph of the Age, ‘Thou art in safety; turn away thy steps hence and presently we will meet thy Highness in health and weal; otherwise258 thy daughter shall be lost and thine army shall be destroyed, and thou, O Commander of the Faithful, wilt depart and return as one outdriven. Do thou wend thy ways: this be not the mode of meeting us and in such manner there is no management.’ “ The Cook did as he was bidden, and when the twain heard his words, quoth the Wazir to the Caliph, “Verily these be naught save Magicians, otherwise they must be of the fulsomest of the Jann, for indeed never heard we nor saw we aught of this.” Hereupon the Prince of True Believers turned his back upon the place and he sorrowful and strait of breast and disheartened of heart; so he went down to his Palace and sat there for a full-told hour when behold, the Warlock and the Cook appeared before him. But as soon as they stood in the presence the Caliph cried out, “O Linkman, bring me the head of yonder youth from between his shoulders!” Hereupon the Executioner came forward and tearing a strip off the youth’s robe-skirt bandaged his eyes; then he walked thrice round about him brandishing his blade over the victim’s head and lastly cried, “O Caliph of the Age, shall I make away with this youth?” Answered the Caliph, “Yes, after thou shalt have stricken off his head.” Hearing this the Sworder raised his hand and smote, when suddenly his grip was turned backwards upon a familiar of his who stood beside him, and it lighted upon his neck with such force that his head hew off and fell at the Caliph’s feet. The King and the Wazir, were perplexed at this affair, and the former cried out, “What be this? Art gone blind, O Bhang eater, that thy stroke hath missed the mark and thou hast not known thy familiar from this youth who kneeleth before thee? Smite him without delay!” Hereupon the Linkman again raised his hand to obey his lord, but the blow fell upon the neck of his varlet and the head flew off and rolled at the feet of the Caliph and his Chief Councillor. At this second mishap the wits of all present were bewildered and the King cried, “What business is this, O Wazir, whereto the other made answer, “O Caliph of the Time and rare gift of the Age and the Tide, what canst thou do, O my lord, with such as these? And whoso availeth to take away o’ nights thy daughter upon her bed and dispread a sea around his house, the same also hath power to tear thy kingdom from thy grasp; nay more, to practice upon thy life. Now ’tis my rede that thou rise and kiss the hand of this Sage and sue his protection,259 lest he work upon us worse than this. Believe me, ’twere better for thee, O my lord, to do as I bid thee and thus ’twill be well for us rather than to rise up as adversaries of this man.” Hearing such words from his Minister, the King bade them raise the youth from the strip of blood-rug and remove the bandage from before his eyes, after which he rose to his feet, and, kissing the Warlock’s hand, said to him, “In very sooth we knew thee not nor were we ware of the measure of thine excellence. But, O teacher of the Time and sum and substance of revolving Tide, why hast thou wrought to me on this wise in the matter of my daughter and destroyed my servants and soldiers?” “O Viceregent of Allah upon His Earth,” replied the Sage, “I am a stranger, and having eaten bread and salt with this youth, I formed friendship and familiarity with him: then, seeing his case which was sad and his state which was marvellous as it had afflicted him with sickness, I took compassion upon him; moreover I designed to show you all what I am and what Almighty Allah hath taught me of occult knowledge. Hitherto there hath been naught save weal, and now I desire of thy favour that thou marry thy daughter to this youth, my familiar, for that she suiteth none other save himself.” Quoth the Caliph, “This proceeding I look upon as the fittest and it besitteth us that we obey thy bidding.” Presently he robed the youth with a sumptuous robe worth the kingdom of a King, and commanded him to sit beside the presence and seated the Sage upon a chair of ebony-wood. Now whilst they were in converse the Warlock turned round and beheld arear of the Caliph a hanging of sendal whereupon stood figured lions twain: so he signed with his hand to these forms which were mighty huge of limb and awesome to look upon, when each put forth his paw upon his fellow and both roared with roars like unto the bellow of ear-rending thunder. Hereat all present were perplex in the extreme and were in admiration at that matter and especially the Prince of True Believers who cried, “O Wazir what seest thou in this business?” The Wazir replied, “O Caliph of the Age, verily Allah Almighty to thee hath sent this Sage that He260 might show thee such marvels as these.” Then the Warlock signalled with his hand to the lions which shrank till they became as cats which carried on the combat; and both Caliph and Wazir wondered thereat with excessive wonderment. Anon quoth the King to the Minister, “Bid the Sage display to us more of his marvels;” and accordingly the Wazir obeyed his lord’s be hest, and the Warlock replied, “To hear is to obey.” He then said, “Bring hither to me a chauldron full of water;” and when it was brought he asked the Courtiers, “Which of you would divert himself?” “I,” quoth the Wazir; when quoth the Sage, “Do thou rise to thy feet and doff thy robes and gird thee with a zone:” whereto said the other, “Bring me a waistcloth;” and when it was brought he did therewith as he was bidden. Hereat said the Warlock, “Seat thee in the centre of the chauldron;” so he plunged into the water, but when he would have seated him amiddlemost thereof as ordered he saw only that he had entered a sea dashing with surges clashing wherein whoso goeth is lost to view, and whence whoso cometh is born anew; and he fell to swimming from side to side intending to issue forth, while the waves suffered him not to make the shore. And while he was in this case behold, a billow of the billows vomited261 him up from the sea to the strand and he stood on dry land, when he surveyed his person and suddenly saw that he had become a woman with the breasts of a woman and the solution of continuity like a woman, and long black hair flowing down to his heels even as a woman’s. Then said he to himself, “O ill- omened diversion! What have I done with such unlucky disport that I have looked upon this marvel and wonder of wonderments, only to become a woman.262 Verily we are Allah’s, and unto Him shall we return;” adding as he took thought of the matter and of what had befallen him, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great.” Presently a Fisherman approached him and sighting a fair girl said, “This be none other than a blessed day which Allah hath opened to us with a beautiful maiden for quarry; and she is doubtless of the Daughters of the Deep, whom Allah Almighty hath sent to us that I may espouse her to my son.” Hearing these words said the transformed to himself, “Now after being a Wazir I have become a woman and this be for that as tit for tat,263 and the wight furthermore desireth to see me married, and as for the Caliph and the kingdom and the countries, who shall now be able to offer them counsel?” But the Fisherman who for his joyance had no stomach to ply his pursuit, as was his custom, forthwith arose and taking with him the Daughter of the Deep led her to his house, and on entering the door cried aloud to his wife, “This day hath been a lucky for my fishing craft: during all these years it never befel me to happen upon a Mermaid save on this best-omened of all the days,ö adding, “Where is thy son, to whom Allah hath sent this Daughter of the Daughters of the Main; and hath made her his portion and vouchsafed her to his service? for ’tis my design to marry them.” Replied the woman, “He hath taken the beasts and hath fared forth to pasture it and plough therewith; but right soon will he return.264 And whilst they were thus conversing the youth came forward, and the Wazir on sighting him groaned and cried, Well-away for me! this very night I shall become a bride for this blamed lad265 to sleep withal. And if I say to them, ‘What intent have ye? Ye are in meanness and misery266 while I am Wazir to the Caliph;’ they will never believe me for that I have become a woman, and all thereto appertaining now belongeth to me. Alack and alas for that I did with mine own self; indeed what business had I with such diversion?” Hereupon the fisherman called out, “O my son, up with thee and straightway take this Mermaid and marry her and abate her pucelage and be blessed with her and enjoy thy joy with her during all the days of thy life-tide: doubtless, O my child, thou art in all boon fortune, seeing that what good befel thee never betided any before thee nor will become the lot of one after thee.” So the youth arose and for his delight hardly believing in his conquest, married her and lay with her and did away her maidenhead and on that very night she conceived by him. After nine months she bare him issue and the couple ceased not to be after this fashion till she had become a mother of seven. But the Wazir, of his stress and excess of the trouble and the travail he endured, said to himself, “How long shall last this toil and torment wherewith I am liver-smitten and that too by mine own consent? So e’en will I arise and hie me to this sea and hurl me the reinto and whatso shall become of me let it be: haply I may find rest from these torments into which I have fallen.” And forthright he arose and sought the shore and did as he had devised, when a wave enveloped him and cast him deep into the depths and he was like to choke, when suddenly his head protruded from the chauldron and he was seated as before he had ducked it. Hereupon he saw the Caliph sitting in state with the Sage by his side and all the Lords of the land and the Notables of the commons awaiting the end of his adventure. So he gazed at them and showed a smiling face267 and laughed aloud when the Prince of True Believers asked him saying, “What hast thou seen, O Wazir?” So he repeated to the Sovran all he had sighted and everything that had come down upon his head, presently adding, “O Caliph of the Age and the sum and sub stance of the Time and the Tide, what be these marvels wrought by this Sage? Verily I have beheld the garths of Paradise268 with maidens of the Húr and the youths of Heaven, and wonderments galore unlooked upon by mankind at all, at all. But, an thou be pleased, O Commander of the Faithful, to espy these rare spectacles and marvellous conditions with thine own eyes, deign go down into the water; so shalt thou divert thyself with peregrine matters and adventures seld-seen.” The Sultan, delighted at this rede, arose and doffed his dress; then, girding his loins with a zone, he entered the chauldron whereat the Sage cried out to him, “O my lord, sit thee down and duck thy head.” But when this was done the Caliph found himself in a bottomless sea and wide dispread and never at rest by any manner of means, so he fell to swimming therein, when a huge breaker threw him high ashore and he walked up the beach mother-naked save for his zone. So he said in his mind, “Let me see what hath been wrought with me by the Sage and the Wazir who have thus practiced upon me and have cast me in this place; and haply they have married my daughter to the youth, and they have stolen my kingdom, the Sage becoming Sultan in my stead. And now let me ask myself, ‘What had I to do with such damned diversion as this?’” But as he brooded over these thoughts and the like of them behold, a bevy of maidens came forwards to fill their pitchers from a fountain and a pool of sweet water lying beside the sea; and sighting him they exclaimed, “Thou, who art thou? say sooth be thou of man-kind or rather haply of Jinn-kind?” He replied, “I am a mortal and of the noblest-born; withal I am a stranger in the land and I wot not whither I should wend.” “Of what country art thou?” asked they, and he answered, “I am from Baghdad.” “Up with thee,” quoth one of the damsels, “to yonder knoll, then down to the flat on the further side, and thou shalt sight a city whose name is ‘Omán,269 whereinto do thou enter.” The Caliph did her bidding, and no sooner had the people seen him stripped than they said one to other, “This man is a merchant who hath been shipwrecked;” so they gave him by way of almsgift a Tobe270 all tattered and torn wherewith he veiled his shame. And after so doing he fell to wandering about the city for pastime, and while walking about he passed into a Bazar and there sighted a cook, before whom he stood open mouthed (for indeed famine had thinned him), and he bethought him of what to do, and he knew not how to act. However the cook at first sight was certified of his being a foreigner, and haply a shipwrecked mariner so he asked him, “O my brother, why cost thou not come in and sit thee down, for thou art a stranger and without means; so in the way of Allah I would engage thy services and will pay thee daily two dirhams to provide thee with meat and drink.” Answered the Caliph, “Hearing and obeying,” after which he abode with the cook and served him and stinted not to serve him for a long time, saying in himself the while, “This for that is tit for tat! and after the Caliphate and commandment and happiness and honour, this day art thou left to lick the platters. What had I to do with such diversion as this? Withal ’tis fairer than the spectacle that anyone even my Wazir ever saw and the more excellent, for that I after being the Caliph of the Age, and the choice gift of the Time and Tide have now become the hireling of a cook. Would to Heaven I wot the sin which brought me hereto?”271 Now as he abode with the cook it befel him that one day he threaded the Jewellers’ Bazar; for about that city was a sea-site whereinto the duckers and divers went down and whence they brought up pearls and corals and precious stones; and as he stood in the market-place, quoth he to himself, “Let me here become a broker in this market street and find rest from my groaning in labour and my licking of platters.” As soon as morning morrowed he did on such wise, when suddenly a merchant approached him, hending in hand a costly gem whose light burned like a lamp or rather like a ray of sunshine, and ’twas worth the tribute of Egypt and Syria. Hereat the Caliph marvelled with exceeding marvel, and quoth he to the trader, “Say me, wilt thou sell this jewel?” and quoth the other, “Yes.” So the Sultan taking it from him went about with it amongst the merchants, who seeing and considering it, wondered greatly at its beauty. Accordingly they bid for it fifty thousand diners, but the royal broker ceased not to bear it about and the buyers to increase their biddings till they offered an hundred thousand gold pieces. Thereupon the Caliph returned with it to the owner and accosted him saying, “Wilt thou sell it for the sum named?” and when the merchant consented, he continued, “I now go to receive its price, wherewith I will come back to thee.” Then the broker went up to the buyer and said, “Bring hither its value and set it in my hand;” but the man asked him, “Where be its owner?” and the Caliph answered, “Its owner hath commissioned me to receive its price, after which he will come and recover the same from me.” However the bidder retorted, “This be not fitting nor is it according to Holy Law: do thou bring me its owner; then come and let him pouch the price, for ’tis he hath sold it to me and thou art only our agent.” Hereupon the Caliph went forth to seek the proprietor and wandered about a long while without finding him; after which he again accosted the purchaser, and said to him, “I am the rightful proprietor: place the price in my hand.” The buyer arose to pay his debt, but before so doing he considered the jewel and saw that it was a bit of dark Sandarach;272 whereat he was sore perplex” and cried out to the Caliph, “O Satan, cost thou palm off false wares, the market-place of the merchants being under the orders of the Sultan?” But when the traders heard these words, they flocked around the pretended broker and having seized him they pinioned his elbows and dragged him before the Sovran of that city who, when they set the prisoner before him, asked, “What be the offence of this man?” “O our honoured lord,” answered they, “this wight palmeth off false wares and swindleth the traders in the royal Bazar.” So the King commanded them to hang him, whereat they charged his neck with chains and bared his head, and bade the cryer cry, “This be his award and the least of awards who forgeth counterfeits and who tricketh the merchant folk in the market-place of the Sultan.” Hereat quoth the Caliph to himself, “I was not content with platter licking, which now appeareth to me a mighty pleasant calling but e’en I must become a broker and die sus. per coll. This be for that tit for tat; how ever, scant blame to the Time which hath charged me with this work.” Now when they brought him to the hanging place and threw the loop around his neck and fell to hoisting him up, as he rose from the ground his eyes were opened and he found himself emerging from the chauldron, whilst the Wazir and the Sage and the youth were sitting and considering him. And the Minister catching sight of his lord sprang to his feet and kissed ground before him, and laughed aloud, and the Commander of the Faithful asked him, “Why this laughter?” Answered he, “O thou, the Prince of True Believers and God-guarded Sovran, my laughter and my gladness are for myself, seeing that I have recovered my identity after becoming a woman and being wedded to a ploughman, who eared the ground, and after bearing to him seven babes.” Cried the Caliph, “Woe to thee, O dog, O son of a dog, thou west married and rejoicedst in children, whereas I this very moment from the hanging-place have come down.” Then he informed the Wazir of all that had befallen him and the Minister did on like guise, whereat all those present laughed consumedly and marvelled at the words of the Warlock, and his proficiency in occult knowledge. Then the Kazi and witnesses were summoned with their writing gear and were bidden draw up the marriage-contract of the young Cook and the Caliph’s daughter. After this the Sage sojourned with the Commander of the Faithful in highmost degree and most honourable dignity, and they abode eating and drinking and living the most delectable of lives and the most enjoyable with all manner of joy and jollity, till came to them the Destroyer of delights and the Divider of man’s days and they departed life one and all.
FINIS.
234 MS. pp. 505-537. This story is found in the “Turkish Tales” by Petis de la Croix who translated one fourth of the “Forty Wazirs” by an author self-termed “Shaykh Zádeh.” It is called the “History of Chec Chahabeddin” (Shaykh Shiháb al-Dín), and it has a religious significance proving that the Apostle did really and personally make the “Mi’raj” (ascent to Heaven) and returned whilst his couch was still warm and his upset gugglet had not run dry. The tale is probably borrowed from Saint Paul, who (2 Cor. xii. 4) was “caught up into Paradise,” which in those days was a kind of region that roofed the earth. The Shaykh in question began by showing the Voltairean Sultan of Egypt certain specious miracles, such as a phantom army (in our tale two lions), Cairo reduced to ashes, the Nile in flood and a Garden of Irem, where before lay a desert. He then called for a tub, stripped the King to a zone girding his loins and made him dip his head into the water. Then came the adventures as in the following tale. When after a moment’s space these ended, the infuriated Sultan gave orders to behead the Shaykh, who also plunged his head into the tub; but the Wizard divined the ill-intent by “Mukáshafah” (thought-reading); and by “Al-Ghayb ‘an al-Absár” (invisibility) levanted to Damascus. The reader will do well to compare the older account with the “First Vizir’s Story” (p. 17) in Mr. Gibb’s “History of the Forty Vizirs,” etc. As this scholar remarks, the Mi’ráj, with all its wealth of wild fable, is simply alluded to in a detached verses of the Koran (xvii. 1) which runs: [I declare] “The glory of Him who transported His servant by night from the Sacred Temple (of Meccah) to the Remote Temple (of Jerusalem), whose precincts we have blessed, that we might show him of our signs.” After this comes an allusion to Moses (v. 2); Mr. Gibb observes (p. 22) that this lengthening out of the seconds was a favourite with “Dervishes,” as he has shown in “The Story of Jewád,” and suggests that the effect might have been produced by some drug like Hashish. I object to Mr. Gibb’s use of the word “Hour)” (ibid. p. 24) without warning the reader that it is an irregular formation, masculine withal for “Huríyah,” and that the Pers. “Húri,” from which the Turks borrowed their blunder, properly means “One Húr.”
235 For the Dajlah (Tigris) and Furát (Euphrates) see vols. viii. 150- ix. 17. The topothesia is worse than Shakespearean. In Weber’s Edit. of the “New Arabian Nights” (Adventures of Simoustapha, etc.), the rivers are called “Ilfara” and “Aggiala.”
236 In text “Alwán,” for which see vol. vii. 135.
237 [The word which is here translated with: “and one had said that he had laboured hard thereat (walawá‘yh?) seems scarcely to bear out this meaning. I would read it “wa’l-Aw’iyah” (plur. of wi’á), rendering accordingly: “and the vessels (in which the aforesaid meats were set out) shimmered like unto silver for their cleanliness."— ST.]
238 In text “Al-Wahwah.”
239 In text, “Mutasa’lik” for “Moutasa’lik” = like a “sa’lúk.”
240 For this “high-spirited Prince and noble-minded lord” see vol. ix. 229.
241 In text “Bisáta-hum” = their carpets.
242 In text “Hawánít,” plur. of “Hanút” = the shop or vault of a vintner, pop. derived from the Persian Kháneh. In Jer. xxvii. 16, where the A. V. has “When Jeremiah was entered into the dungeon and into the cabins,” read “underground vaults,” cells or cellars where wine was sold. “Hanút” also means either the vintner or the vintner’s shop. The derivation because it ruins man’s property and wounds his honour is the jeu d’esprit of a moralising grammarian. Chenery’s Al-Hariri, p. 377.
243 In the Arab. “Jawákín,” plur. of Arab. Jaukán for Pers. Chaugán, a crooked stick a club, a bat used for the Persian form of golf played on horseback — Polo.
244 [The text reads “Liyah,” and lower down twice with the article “Al-Liyah” (double Lam). I therefore suspect that “Liyyah,” equivalent with “Luwwah,” is intended which both mean Aloes-wood as used for fumigation (yutabakhkharu bi-hi). For the next ingredient I would read “Kit’ah humrah,” a small quantity of red brickdust, a commodity to which, I do not know with what foundation, wonderful medicinal powers are or were ascribed. This interpretation seems to me the more preferable, as it presently appears that the last-named articles had to go into the phial, the mention of which would otherwise be to no purpose and which I take to have been finally sealed up with the sealing clay. The whole description is exceedingly loose, and evidently sorely corrupted, so I think every attempt at elucidation may be acceptable. — ST.]
245 “Wa Kíta’h hamrah,” which M. Houdas renders un morceau de viande cuite.
246 This is a specimen of the Islamised Mantra called in Sanskrit Stambhana and intended to procure illicit intercourse. Herklots has printed a variety of formulû which are popular throughout southern India: even in the Maldive Islands we find such “Fandita” (i.e. Panditya, the learned Science) and Mr. Bell (Journ., Ceylon Br. R. A. S. vii. 109) gives the following specimen, “Write the name of the beloved; pluck a bud of the screw-pine (here a palette de mouton), sharpen a new knife, on one side of the bud write the Surat al-Badr (chapter of Power, No. xxi., thus using the word of Allah for Satan’s purpose); on the other side write Vajahata; make an image out of the bud; indite particulars of the horoscope copy from beginning to end the Surat al-Rahmán (the Compassionating, No. xlviii.);, tie the image in five places with coir left-hand-twisted (i.e. widdershins or ‘against the sun’); cut the throat of a blood-sucker (lizard); smear its blood on the image; place it in a loft, dry it for three days, then take it and enter the sea. If you go in knee deep the woman will send you a message; if you go in to the waist she will visit you.” (The Voyage of Francois Pyrard, etc., p. 179.) I hold all these charms to be mere instruments for concentrating and intensifying the brain action called Will, which is and which presently will be recognised as the chief motor-power. See Suppl. vol. iii.
247 Probably the name of some Prince of the Jinns.
248 In text “Kamá zukira fí Dayli-h” = arrange-toi de facon à l’atteindre (Houdas).
249 Proverbial for its depth: Káshán is the name of sundry cities; here one in the Jibál or Irák ‘Ajami — Persian Mesopotamia.
250 Doubtless meaning Christians.
251 The Sage had summoned her by the preceding spell which the Princess obeyed involuntarily.
252 i.e., last night, see vol. iii. 249.
253 In text “Wuldán” = “Ghilmán”: the boys of Paradise; for whom and their feminine counterparts the Húr (Al-Ayn) see vols. i. 90, 211; iii. 233.
254 Arab. “Dukhn” = Holcus dochna, a well-known grain, a congener of the Zurrah or Durrah = Holcus Sativus, Forsk. cxxiii. The incident is not new. In “Des blaue Licht,” a Mecklenburg tale given by Grimm, the King’s daughter who is borne through the air to the soldier’s room is told by her father to fill her pocket with peas and make a hole therein; but the sole result was that the pigeons had a rare feast. See Suppl. vol. iii. 375.
255 i.e., a martyr of love. See vols. iii. 211; i-iv. 205.
256 In the text “Ka’ka’”; hence the higher parts of Meccah, inhabited by the Jurham tribe, was called “Jabal Ka’ka’án,” from their clashing arms (Pilgrimage iii. 191).
257 This was the work of the form of magic popularly known as Símiyá = fascination, for which see vol. i. 305, 332. It is supposed to pass away after a period of three days, and mesmerists will find no difficulty in recognising a common effect upon “Odylic sensitives.”
258 Here supply the MS. with “illá.”
259 In text “tatadakhkhal’alay-h:” see “Dakhíl-ak,” vol. i. 61.
260 Or “he”: the verb may also refer to the Sage.
261 Arab. “Kazafa” = threw up, etc.
262 This, in the case of the Wazir, was a transformation for the worse: see vol. vii. 294, for the different kinds of metamorphosis.
263 i.e. my high fortune ending in the lowest.
264 In text “Bakar” = black cattle, whether bull, ox or cow. For ploughing with bulls.
265 In text “Mukrif” = lit. born of a slave father and free mother.
266 In text “Antum fí kháshin wa básh,” an error for “khásh-másh” = a miserable condition.
267 In text “yatbashsh” for “yanbashsha.” [Or it may stand for yabtashsh, with transpositions of the “t” of the eighth form, as usual in Egypt. See Spitta-Bey’s Grammar, p. 198. — ST.]
268 “Janánan,” which, says M. Houdas, is the vulgar form of “Jannatan” = the garden (of Paradise). The Wazir thus played a trick upon his hearers. [The word in the text may read “Jinánan,” accusative of “Jinán,” which is the broken plural of “Jannah,” along with the regular plural “Jannát,” and, like the latter, used for the gardens of Paradise. — ST.]
269 For this name of the capital of Eastern Arabia see vols. i. 33, vii. 24.
270 “To be” is the Anglo-Oriental form of “Thaub” = in Arabia a loose robe like a nightgown. See ii. 206.
271 The good old Mosaic theory of retribution confined to this life, and the belief that Fate is the fruit of man’s action.
272 Arab. “Sandarúsah” = red juniper gum (Thuja articulata of Barbary), red arsenic realgar, from the Pers. Sandar = amber.
Here we begin to indite the pleasant History which beset between the Cock and the Fox.273
It is said that there abode in such a village a man which was a Shaykh of long standing, one gifted with fair rede and right understanding. Now he had on his farm a plenty of poultry, male and female, and these he was wont to breed and to eat of their eggs and their chickens. But amongst his cocks was a Chanticleer, well advanced of age and wily of wit, who had long fought with Fortune and who had become wise and ware in worldly matters and in the turns and shifts of Time. It fortuned one day that this Cock went forth to wander about the farm-lands pecking and picking up as he went such grains of wheat and barley and holcus274 and sesame and millet as chanced fall in his way; but, being careless of himself, he had left the village afar off without thinking of what he did, and ere he took counsel with himself he found him amiddlemost the wilderness. So he turned him rightwards and leftwards but espied nor friend nor familiar, whereat he stood perplext as to his affair and his breast was straitened and still he knew not what to do. Now while thus bewildered in his wits touching his next step, behold, his glance fell upon a Fox275 who was approaching him from afar, whereat he feared and trembled and was agitated with mighty great agitation. At once he turned him about and presently espied a high wall arising from the waste, whereto was no place of ascending for his foe; so he spread his wings and flew up and perched upon the coping where he took his station. Presently the Fox came forward to the foot of the wall, and, finding no means of climbing it and getting at the fowl, he raised his head and said, “The Peace be upon thee, Ho thou the soothfast brother and suitable friend!” But as the Cock would not turn towards him nor return aught of reply to his salutation, the Fox resumed, “What is to do with thee, O dear my brother, that my greeting thou acknowledgest not and to my words inclinest thee not?” Still the Cock requited not his courtesy and declined to reply, whereat the Fox resumed, “Wottest thou not, O my brother, the glad tidings wherewith I came theewards, with what suitable intelligence and counsel veridical and information at once sincere and self-evident? and, didst know what it is hath come to mine ears, verily thou hadst embraced me and kissed me on the mouth.” But the Cock feigned absence of mind and ignored him and answered him naught, but stood with rounded eyes and fixed upon the far when the Fox resumed, “O my brother, the King of the Beasts which be the Lion and the King of the Birds which be the Eagle have alighted from a journey upon the meads where grass is a-growing and by the marge where waters are a-flowing and blossoms are a-blowing and browsing gazelles are a-to-ing and a-fro-ing; and the twain have gathered together all manner of ferals, lions and hyenas, leopards and lynxes, wild cattle and antelopes and jackals and even hares, brief, all the wild beasts of the world; and they have also collected every kind of bird, eagle and vulture, crow and raven,276 wild pigeon and turtledove, poultry and fowls and Katás and quails277 and other small deer, and these two liege lords have bidden the herald proclaim, throughout the tracts of the upland wold and the wild lowland, safety and security and confraternity and peace with honour and sympathy and familiar friendship and affection and love amongst wild beasts and cattle and birds; also that enmity be done away with and wrongs be forbidden nor might one transgress against other; nay, if any chance to injure his fellow this offence might be for his scourging a reason, and for his death by tearing to pieces a justification. The order hath also come forth that all do feed and browse in one place whichever they please, never venturing to break the peace but dwelling in all amity and affection and intimacy one with other. Moreover they have commissioned me, very me, to overroam the wastes and gladden with good tidings the peoples of the wilds and proclaim that one and all without exception must assemble together, and also that whoso delayeth or refuseth obedience shall not escape punishment278 nor let each and every fail to make act of presence and to kiss hands. And of thee, O my brother, I especially require that thou descend from thy high stead in safety and security and satisfaction, and that henceforward thy heart be not startled nor thy limbs shake for fear.” All this description was described by the Fox to the Cock who paid no heed to him as though he had never heard the news; and he remained silent without return of reply or without so much as turning to regard him; nay, he only kept his head raised and gazed afar. Hereat quoth to him the Fox (for indeed his heart burned with desire to know how he could seize and devour him), “O brother mine, why and wherefore dost thou not acknowledge me by an answer or address to me a word or even turn thy face towards me who am a Commissioner sent by Leo, Sovran of the beasts, and Aquila, Sultan of the birds? Sore I fear lest thou refuse to accompany me and thus come upon thee censure exceeding and odium excessive seeing that all are assembled in the presence and are browsing upon the verdant mead.” Then he added (as Chanticleer regarded him not), “O my brother, I bespeak thee and thou unheedest me and my speech and, if thou refuse to fare with me, at least let me know what may be thy reply.” Hereupon the Cock inclined towards him and said, “Sooth hast thou spoken, O my brother, and well I wot thou be an Envoy and a Commissioner from our King, and the special Messenger of him: but my condition is changed by that which hath befallen me.” “And what calamity, O my brother hath betided thee?” “Dost thou espy what I am at present espying?” “And what is it thou espiest?” “Verily, I see a dust cloud lowering and the Saker-falcons in circles towering;” and quoth the Fox (whose heart throbbed with fear), “Look straitly, O my brother, lest there happen to us a mishap.” So Chanticleer gazed as one distraught for a full told hour, after which he turned to the Fox and said, “O my brother, I behold and can distinguish a bird flying and a dust-trail hieing.” “Consider them narrowly, O my brother,” cried the Fox (whose side-muscles quivered) “lest this be sign of greyhound;” and the other replied, “The Truth is known to Allah alone, yet I seem now to see a something lengthy of leg, lean of flank, loose of ears, fine of forehand and full of quarter, and at this moment it draweth near and is well nigh upon us — O fine!”279 Now when the Fox heard these words he cried to the Cock, “O my brother, I must farewell thee!” and so saying he arose and committed his legs to the wind and he had recourse to the Father of Safety.280 Seeing this, the Cock also cried, “Why thus take to flight when thou hast no spoiler thy heart to affright?” Replied the Fox, “I have a fear of the Greyhound, O my brother, for that he is not of my friends or of my familiars;” and the Cock rejoined, “Didst thou not tell me thou camest as Commissioner of the Kings to these wastes proclaiming a peace and safety amongst all the beasts and the birds?” “O my brother Chanticleer,” retorted the other, “this feral, Greyhound hight, was not present at the time when pacifcation was proclaimed, nor was his name announced in the Congress of the beasts; and I for my part have no love lost with him, nor between me and him is there aught of security.” So saying the Fox turned forthright to fly, routed with the foulest of routing, and the Cock escaped the foe by his sleight and sagacity with perfect safety and security. Now after the Fox had turned tail and fled from him Chanticleer came down from the wall and regained his farm, lauding Allah Almighty who had conveyed him unharmed to his own place. And here he related unto his fellows what had befallen him with the Fox and how he had devised that cunning device and thereby freed himself from a strait wherein, but for it, the foe had torn him limb by limb.
FINIS.
273 MSS. pp. 718-724. This fable, whose moral is that the biter is often bit, seems unknown to Æsop and the compilation which bore his name during the so-called Dark Ages. It first occurs in the old French metrical Roman de Renart entitled, Si comme Renart prist Chanticler le Coq (ea. Meon, tom. i. 49). It is then found in the collection of fables by Marie, a French poetess whose Lais are still extant; and she declares to have rendered it de l’Anglois en Roman; the original being an Anglo-Saxon version of Æsop by a King whose name is variously written Li reis Alured (Alfred?), or Aunert (Albert?), or Henris, or Mires. Although Alfred left no version of Æsop there is in MS. a Latin Æsop containing the same story of an English version by Rex Angliae Affrus. Marie’s fable is printed in extenso in the Chaucer of Dr. Morris (i. 247); London, Bell and Sons, 1880; and sundry lines remind us of the Arabic, e.g.:—
Li gupil volt parler en haut,
Et li cocs de sa buche saut,
Sur un haut fust s’est muntez.
And it ends with the excellent moral:—
Ceo funt li fol tut le plusur,
Parolent quant deivent taiser,
Teisent quant il deivent parler.
Lastly the Gentil Cok hight Chanticlere and the Fox, Dan Russel, a more accidented tale, appears in “The Nonne Preestes Tale,” by the Grand Traducteur.
274 “Durà” in MS. (p. 718) for “Zurà,” the classical term, or for “Zurrah,” pop. pronounced “Durrah”=the Holcus Sativus before noticed, an African as well as Asiatic growth, now being supplanted by maize and rice.
275 “Sa’alab” or “Tha’lab”: vol. iii. 132.
276 In text “Kikán,” plur. of “Kíik” =des corneilles (Houdas).
277 “Samman” or “Summán,” classically “Salwà.”
278 In text “Al-Kawání"=the spears, plur. of “Kanát.” [“Al-Kawání” as plural of a singular “Kanát”=spear would be, I think, without analogy amongst the plural formations, and its translation by “punishment” appears somewhat strained. I propose to read “al-Ghawání” and to translate “and whoever lags behind of the singing birds will not be safe” (“lá yaslimu,” it will not go well with him). In the mouth of the fox this implies a delicate compliment for the cock, who might feel flattered to be numbered amongst the same tribe with the nightingale and the thrush. — ST.]
279 In text “yá zayn” =Oh, the beautiful beast!
280 In text “Abú Sahíh”=(flight to) a sure and safe place.
Here we begin to invite the History of what befel the Fowl-let from the Fowler.281
They relate (but Allah is All-knowing) that there abode in Baghdad-city a huntsman-wight in venerie trained aright. Now one day he went forth to the chase taking with him nets and springes and other gear he needed and fared to a garden-site with trees bedight and branches interlaced tight wherein all the fowls did unite; and arriving at a tangled copse he planted his trap in the ground and he looked around for a hiding-place and took seat therein concealed. Suddenly a Birdie approaching the trap-side began scraping the earth and, wandering round about it, fell to saying in himself, “What may this be? Would Heaven I wot, for it seemeth naught save a marvellous creation of Allah!” Presently he considered the decoy which was half buried in the ground and salam’d to it from afar to the far and the Trap returned his salutation, adding thereto, “And the ruth of Allah and His blessings;” and presently pursued, “Welcome and fair welcome to the brother dear and the friend sincere and the companionable fere and the kindly compeer, why stand from me so far when I desire thou become my neighbour near and I become of thine intimates the faithful and of thy comrades the truthful? So draw thee nigh to me and be of thy safety trustful and prove thee not of me fearful.” Quoth the Fowl-let, “I beseech thee by Allah, say me who art thou so I may not of thee feel affright and what be thy bye-name and thy name and to which of the tribes dost trace thy tree?” And quoth the Trap, “My name is Hold-fast282 and my patronymic is Bindfast and my tribe is hight the Sons of Fallfast.” Replied the Birdie, “Sooth thou sayest; for such name is truly thy name and such bye-name is without question thy bye-name nor is there any doubt of thy tribe being the noblest of the tribes.” The Trap answered him saying, “Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord — that me thou hast recognised and that I be of thy truest friends thou hast acknowledged, for where shalt thou find a familiar like unto me, a lover soothful and truthful and my fellow in mind? And indeed I a devotee of religious bent and from vain gossip and acquaintances and even kith and kin abstinent; nor have I any retreat save upon the heads of hills and in the bellies of dales which be long and deep; and from mundane tidings I am the true Holdfast and in worldly joys the real Bindfast.” The Fowl replied, “Sooth hast spoken, O my lord; and all hail to thee; how pious and religious and of morals and manners gracious art thou? Would to Heaven I were a single hair upon thy body.” Rejoined the Trap, “Thou in this world art my brother and in the next world my father;” and the other retorted, “O my brother, fain would I question thee concerning matters concealed within thy thoughts;” whereto the Trap, “Enquire of whatso thou requires”, that I make manifest to thee what in heart thou desirest; for I will truly declare to thee mine every aim and disclose to thee soothly all my case and my thoughts concealed, nor shall remain unrevealed of mine intent aught.” So the Birdie began, “O my brother, why and wherefore see I thee on this wise abiding in the dust and dwelling afar from relations and companeers and thou hast parted from thy family and peers and hast departed from the fondness of thy dears?” “Hast thou not learned, O my brother,” answered the Trap, “that retirement is permanent heal and farness from folk doth blessings deal and separation from the world is bodily weal; and on this matter hath one of the poets said, and said right well,
‘Fly folk, in public ne’er appearing,
And men shall name thee man God-fearing;283
Nor say I’ve brother, mate and friend:
Try men with mind still persevering:
Yea, few are they as thou couldst wish:
Scorpions they prove when most endearing.’284
And one of the Sages hath said, ‘Solitude and not ill associate.’ Also quoth they to Al-Bahlúl,285 ‘Why this tarrying of thine amid the homes of the dead and why this sojourning in a barren stead and wherefore this farness from kinsmen and mate and lack of neighbourly love for brother and intimate?’ But quoth he, ‘Woe to you! my folk did I dwell amongst them would some day unlove me and the while I abide far from them will never reprove me; not indeed would they remember my affection nor would they desire my predilection; and so satisfied with my solitude am I that an I saw my family I should start away as in fear of them, and were my parent quickened anew and longed for my society verily I would take flight from them.’ ” Replied the Fowl-let, “In good sooth, O my brother, truth thou hast pronounced in all by thee announced and the best of rede did from thee proceed; but tell me, prithee, anent that cord about thy middle wound and despite thine expending efforts that abound why thou art neither a-standing nor a-sitting on ground?” To him replied the Trap, “O my brother, learn that I spend every night of every month in prayer, during which exercise whenever sleep would seize me I tighten this cord about my waist and drive slumber from my eyes and become therefrom the more wide-awake for my orisons. Know thou also that Allah (be He glorified and magnified!) affectioneth his servants when devout are they, and stand in worship alway, ever dight to pray and praise Him by night and by day; and who turn on their sides loving the Lord to obey in desire and dismay and doling their good away. And quoth Allah (be He glorified and magnified!), ‘And for scanty while of the night they take not gentle rest and at rising morn His pardon they obtest and their Lord granteth unto them their request.’ 286 And wottest thou not, O my brother, what said the poet?
‘These busy are with worldly gear
Those of their moneys proud appear:
But some be rich by God’s approof —
Praise Him o’ nights with love sincere:
Their Guardian’s eye regards them aye
Praying, confessing sins to clear:
They wot nor worship aught but Him
And hail His name with love and fear.’ ”
Therewith quoth the Fowl-let, “Sooth hast thou said, O my brother, in each word by thee sped and right eloquently was announced all by thee pronounced; however (I am thy protected!), do thou tell me why I see thee one half buried in earth and the other half above ground?” And quoth the Trap, “For the reason that I thereby resemble the dead and in life I am shunning the pernicious lusts of the flesh; and Almighty Allah (be He glorified and magnified!) said in His August Volume, ‘From earth have We created you and unto her We will return you and from her will We draw you forth a second time.’ ”287 Replied the Birdie, “The truth thou hast told in whatso thou dost unfold, but why do I see thee so bent of back?” and rejoined the Trap, “Learn, O my brother, that the cause for this bowing of my back is my frequent standing in prayer by day and my upstanding by night in the service of the King, the Clement, the One, the Prepotent, the Glorious, the Omnipotent; and verily upon this matter right well the poet hath spoken,
‘None save the pious Youth gains boon of Paradise
(To whom the Lord doth pardon crime and sin and vice),
Whose back by constant prayer through murk o’ night is bent
And longs to merit Heaven in sore and painful guise.
Hail to the slave who ever would his lord obey
And who by death is saved when he obedient dies.’ ”
The Fowl-let continued, “O my brother, of truth the token is that whereof thou hast spoken and I have understood thee and am certified of thy sooth. But yet, I see upon thee a robe288 of hair!” and the Trap rejoined, “O my brother, knowest thou not of hair and wool that they be the wear of the pious and the religious, whereof one of the poets hath spoken in these words,
‘Folk who in fear of long accompt289 for naught of worldly care
Hail to them! haply garb of wool they’ll change for silken wear:
In life for provaunt shall suffice them salt and barley bread
Who seek th’ Almighty Lord and bow the head in sedulous pray’r.’ ”
The Birdie resumed, “In very deed thy speech the sooth doth teach; but say me what be this staff290 thou hendest in hand?” Replied the Trap, “O my brother, know that I have become an olden man well shotten in years and my strength is minished, wherefor I have taken me a staff that I may prop me thereon and that it aid my endeavour when a-fasting.” The Fowl-let pursued, “Thy speech is true, O my brother, and thou speakest as due, yet would I ask thee of a matter nor refuse me information thereanent: tell me why and wherefore this plenty of grain scattered all about thee?” The Trap answered, “Indeed the merchants and men of wealth bring to me this victual that I may bestow it in charity upon the Fakir and the famisht;” and the Birdie rejoined, “O my brother, I also am an hungered; so dost thou enjoin me to eat thereof?” “Thou art my companion,” cried the Trap, “so upon me such injunction is a bounden duty,” presently adding, “Be so kind, O my brother, and haste thee hither and eat.” Hereat the Fowl-let flew down from off his tree and approaching little by little (with a heart beating for fear of the Trap) picked up a few grains which lay beside it until he came to the corn set in the loop of the springe. Hereupon he pecked at it with one peck nor had he gained aught of good therefrom ere the Trap came down heavily upon him and entangled his neck and held him fast. Hereupon he was seized with a fit of sore affright and he cried out, “Zík! zík!” and “Mík! mík!291 Verily I have fallen into wreak and am betrayed by friendly freke and oh, the excess of my trouble and tweak, Zík, Zík! O Thou who keenest my case, do Thou enable me escape to seek, and save me from these straits unique and be Thou ruthful to me the meek!” Thereupon quoth to him the Trap, “Thou criest out Zik! Zik! and hast fallen into straits unique and hast strayed from the way didst seek, O Miscreant and Zindík,292 and naught shall avail thee at this present or brother or friend veridigue or familiar freke. Now understand and thy pleasure seek! I have deceived thee with a deceit and thou lentest ear and lustedst.” Replied the Bird, “I am one whom desire hath cast down and ignorance hath seduced and inordinate greed, one for whose neck the collar of destruction is fitted and I have fallen along with those who lowest fall!” Hereupon the Fowler came up with his knife to slaughter the Fowl-let and began saying, “How many a birdie have we taken in all ease for desire of its meat that we may dress their heads with rice or in Harísah 293 or fried in pan and eat thereof pleasurably myself or feed therewith great men and grandees. Also ’tis on us incumbent to feed privily upon half the bodies and the other half shall be for our guests whilst I will take the wings to set before my family and kinsmen as the most excellent of gifts.”294 Hearing these words the Bird fell to speaking and saying,
“O Birder, my mother’s in misery
And blind with weeping my loss is she.
I suffice not thy guest nor can serve for gift:
Have ruth and compassion and set me free!
With my parents I’ll bless thee and then will I
Fly a-morn and at e’en-tide return to thee.”
Presently resumed he, “Seest thou not how my meat be mean and my maw be lean; nor verily can I stand thee in stead of cate nor thy hunger satiate: so fear Allah and set me at liberty then shall the Almighty requite thee with an abundant requital.” But the Fowler, far from heeding his words, made him over to his son saying, “O my child, take this bird and faring homewards slaughter him and of him cook for us a cumin ragout and a lemonstew, a mess flavoured with verjuice and a second of mushrooms and a third with pomegranate seeds and a fourth of clotted curd295 cooked with Summák,296 and a fine fry and eke conserves of pears297 and quinces and apples and apricots hight the rose-water and vermicelli298 and Sikbáj;299 and meat dressed with the six leaves and a porridge300 and a rice-milk, and an ‘Ajíjíyah301 and fried flesh in strips and Kabábs and meat-olives and dishes the like of these. Also do thou make of his guts strings for bows and of his gullet a conduit for the terrace-roof and of his skin a tray-cloth and of his plumage cushions and pillows.” Now when the Fowl-let heard these words (and he was still in the Fowler’s hand), he laughed a laugh of sorrow and cried, “Woe to thee, O Birder, whither be wended thy wits and thine understanding? Art Jinn-mad or wine-drunken? Art age-foolish or asleep? Art heavy-minded or remiss in thought? Indeed had I been that long-necked bird the ‘Anká, daughter of Life, or were I the she-camel of Sálih to be, or the ram of Isaac the sacrificed, or the loquent calf of Al-Sámiri 302 or even a buffalo fattened daintily all this by thee mentioned had never come from me.” Hereat he fell to improvising and saying,
“The Ruthful forbiddeth the eating of me
And His Grace doth grace me with clemency:
A Camel am I whom they overload
And the Birder is daft when my flesh seeth he:
Prom Solomon’s breed, O my God, I have hope:
If he kill me the Ruthful his drowning303 decree.’?
Then quoth the Fowl to the Fowler, “An thou design to slaughter me in thy greed even as thou hast described, verily I shall avail thee naught, but an thou work my weal and set me free I will show thee somewhat shall profit thee and further the fortunes of thy sons’ sons and thy latest descendants.” “What is that direction thou wouldst deal to me?” asked the Fowler, and answered the Fowl-let, “I will teach a trio of words all wise and will discover to thee in this earth a Hoard wherewith thou and thy seed and posterity shall ever be satisfied and shall ever pray for the lengthening of my years. Moreover I will point out to thee a pair of Falcons ashen-grey, big of body and burly of bulk who are to me true friends and whom thou didst leave in the gardens untrapped.” Asked the Birder, “And what be the three words which so savour of wisdom?” and answered the other “O Fowler, the three words of wisdom are:— Bemourn not what is the past nor at the future rejoice too fast nor believe aught save that whereon thy glance is cast. But as regards the Hoard and the two Falcons, when thou shalt have released me I will point them out to thee and right soon to thee shall be shown the sooth of whatso I have said to thee.” Hereat the Birder’s heart became well affected toward the Birdie for his joy anent the Treasure and the Falcons; and the device of the captive deceived the Capturer and cut short his wits so that he at once released the prey. Forthright the Fowl-let flew forth the Fowler’s palm in huge delight at having saved his life from death; then, after preening his plume and spreading his pinions and his wings, he laughed until he was like to fall earthwards in a fainting fit Anon he began to gaze right and left, long breaths a drawing and increase of gladness ever a showing; whereupon quoth the Birder, “O Father of Flight, O thou The Wind hight! what saidst thou to me anent pointing out the two Falcons ashen-grey and who were the comrades thou leftest in the gardens?” Quoth the Birdie in reply, “slack and alas! never saw I thy like for an ass nor aught than thyself meaner of capacity nor mightier of imbecility; for indeed thou carries” in thy head lightness and in thy wits slackness. O Scant of Sense, when sawest thou ever a sparrow company with a Falcon, much less with two Falcons? So short is thine understanding that I have escaped thy hand by devising the simplest device which my nous and knowledge suggested.” Hereat he began to improvis and repeat:
“When Fortune easy was, from duty304 didst forbear
Nor from that malady305 hast safety or repair:
Then blame thyself nor cast on other wight306 the fault
And lacking all excuse to death of misery fare!”
Then resumed the Fowl-let, “Woe to thee, O mean and mesquin thou wottedst not that which thou hast lost in me, for indeed baulked is thy bent and foiled is thy fortune and near to thee is poverty and nigh to thee is obscurity. Hadst thou when taking me cut my throat and cloven my crop thou hadst found therein a jewel the weight of an ounce which I picked up and swallowed from the treasury of Kisrà Anúshírwán the King.” But when the Birder heard the Birdie’s words he scattered dust upon his head and buffeted his face and plucked out his beard and rent his raiment, and at last slipped down a swooning to the ground. And presently recovering his senses he looked towards his late captive and cried, “O Father of Flight, O thou The Wind hight say me is there any return for thee me-wards, where thou shalt with me abide, and thee within the apple of mine eye will I hide, and after all this toil and turmoil I will perfume and fumigate thee with ambergris and with Comorin lign-aloes, and I will bring thee sugar for food and nuts of the pine307 and with me thou shalt tarry in highmost degree?” Replied the Birdie, “O miserable, past is that which passed; I mean, suffice me not thy fraud and thy flattering falsehood. And laud to the Lord, O thou meanest of men, how soon hast thou forgotten the three charges wherewith I charged thee! And how short are thy wits seeing that the whole of me weighteth not ten drachms308 and how then can I bear in crop a jewel weighing an ounce? How far from thee is subtilty and how speedily hast thou forgotten mine injunctions wherewith I enjoined thee saying, ‘Believe not aught save that whereon thine eye is cast nor regret and bemourn the past nor at what cometh rejoice too fast.’ These words of wisdom are clean gone from thy memory, and hadst thou been nimble of wits thou hadst slaughtered me forthright: however, Alhamdolillah — Glory to God, who caused me not to savour the whittle’s sharp edge, and I thank my Lord for my escape and for the loosing of my prosperity from the trap of trouble.” Now when the Birder heard these words of the Birdie he repented and regretted his folly, and he cried, “O my sorrow for what failed me of the slaughter of this volatile,” and as he sank on the ground he sang,309
“O brave was the boon which I held in my right
Yet O Maker of man, ’twas in self despight.
Had my lot and my luck been of opulence,
This emptiness never had proved my plight.”
Hereupon the Fowl let farewelled the Fowler and took flight until he reached his home and household, where he seated him and recited all that had befallen him with the Birder, to wit, how the man had captured him, and how he had escaped by sleight, and he fell to improvising,
“I charged you, O brood of my nestlings, and said,
Ware yon Wady, nor seek to draw near a stead
Where sitteth a man who with trap and with stakes
Entrapped me, drew knife and would do me dead.
And he longed to destroy me, O children, but I
Was saved by the Lord and to you was sped.”
And here endeth the History of the Fowl let and the Fowler entire and complete.
M.
281 MS. pp. 725-739.
282 Arab. “Zábit,” from “Zabt”=keeping in subjection, holding tight, tying. Hence “Zabtiyah” = a constable and “Zábit” = a Prefect of Police. See vol. i. 259. The rhyming words are “Rábit” and “Hábit.”
283 In text “Ráhib” = monk or lion.
284 The lines are wholly corrupt.
285 The “Bahalul” of D’Herbelot. This worthy was a half-witted Sage (like the Iourodivi of Russia and the Irish Omadhaun), who occupies his own place in contemporary histories flourished under Harun al-Rashid and still is famous in Persian Story. When the Caliph married him perforce and all the ceremonies were duly performed and he was bedded with the bride, he applied his ear to her privities and forthwith ran away with the utmost speed and alarm. They brought him back and questioned him concerning his conduct when he made answer, “ If you had only heard what it said to me you would have done likewise.” In the text his conduct is selfish and ignoble as that of Honorius
“Who strove to merit heaven by making earth a hell.”
And he shows himself heartless and unhuman as the wretched St. Alexius of the Gesta Romanorum (Tale xv.), a warning of the intense selfishness solemnly and logically inculcated by Christianity. See vol. v. 150.
286 Koran, ch. li. v. 17.
287 Koran xx. 57: it is the famous “Tá-Há” whose first 14-16 verses are said to have converted the hard-headed Omar. In the text the citation is garbled and imperfect.
288 In text “Mas’h.”
289 “Hisában tawíl” = a long punishment.
290 The rod of Moses (see pp. 76-77) is the great prototype in Al-Islam of the staff or walking stick, hence it became a common symbol of dignity and it also served to administer ready chastisement, e.g. in the hands of austere Caliph Omar.
291 An onomatopy like “Coüic, Coüic.” For “Maksah,” read “Fa-sáha” = and cried out.
292 “Zindík” = Atheist, Agnostic: see vols. v. 230; viii. 27.
293 “Harísah” = meat-pudding. In Al-Hariri (Ass. xix.) where he enumerates the several kinds of dishes with their metonomies it is called the “Mother of Strengthening” (or Restoration) because it contains wheat —“the Strengthener” (as opposed to barley and holcus). So the “Mother of Hospitality” is the Sikbáj, the Persian Sikbá, so entitled because it is the principal dish set before guests and was held to be royal food. (Chenery pp. 218, 457.) For the latter see infra.
294 This passage in the MS. (p. 733) is apparently corrupt. I have done my best to make sense of it.
295 In text “ Kamburisiyah.”
296 In the Dicts. a plant with acid flavour, dried, pounded and peppered over meat.
297 In text “Najas” = a pear.
298 “Tutmajíyah” for “Tutmáj.”
299 “Sikbáj,” a marinated stew like “Zirbájah” (vol. iii. 278): Khusrau Parwez, according to the historians, was the first for whom it was cooked and none ate of it without his permission. See retro.
300 Kishk=ground wheat, oatmeal or barley-flour eaten with soured sheep’s milk and often with meat.
301 So in text: I suspect for “‘Ajínniyah” = a dish of dough.
302 The Golden Calf is alluded to in many Koranic passages, e.g. Súrah ii. (the Cow) 48; vii. (Al-Aaráf) 146; S. Iiv. (Woman) 152; but especially in S. xx. (Tá Há) 90, where Sámiri is expressly mentioned. Most Christian commentators translate this by “Samaritan” and unjustly note it as “ a grievous ignorance of history on the part of Mohammed.” But the word is mysterious and not explained. R. Jehuda (followed by Geiger) says upon the text (Exod. xxxii. 24), “The calf came forth lowing and the Israelites beheld it”; also that “Samael entered into it and lowed in order to mislead Israel” (Pirke R. Eliezer, 45). Many Moslems identify Samiri with Micha (Judges xvii.), who is said to have assisted in making the calf (Raschi, Sanhedr. cii. 2; Hottinger, Hist. Orient. p. 84). Selden (de Diis Syr. Syn. 1. cap.4) supposes that Samiri is Aaron himself, the Shomeer or keeper of Israel during the absence of Moses. Mr. Rodwell (Koran, 2nd Edit. p. 90) who cleaves to the “ Samaritan” theory, writes, “ It is probable (?) that the name and its application, in the present instance, is to be traced to the old national feud between the Jews and the Samaritans”— of which Mohammed, living amongst the Jews, would be at least as well informed as any modern European. He quotes De Sacy (Chrest. i. 189) who states that Abu Rayhan Mohammed Birúni represents the Samaritans as being nicknamed (not Al-limsahsit as Mr. Rodwell has it, but) “Lá Mesas” or “Lá Mesásiyah” = the people who say “no touch” (i.e. touch me not, from Súrah xx. 97), and Juynboll, Chron. Sam. p. 113 (Leid. 1848). Josephus (Ant. xii. cap. 1) also mentions a colony of Samaritans settled in Egypt by Ptolemy Lagus, some of whose descendants inhabited Cairo as late as temp. Scaliger (De Emend. Temp. vii. 622). Sale notices a similar survival on one of the islands of the Red Sea. In these days the Samaritans or, as their enemies call them the Cuthim (“men from Cutha,” Cushites), in physical semblance typical Jews, are found only at Náblús where the colony has been reduced by intermarriage of cousins and the consequent greater number of male births to about 120 souls. They are, like the Shi’ah Moslems, careful to guard against ceremonial pollution: hence the epithet “Noli me tangere.”
303 Alluding to the “Sayyád,” lit. = a fisherman.
304 In text “Al-Zahr.”
305 “Ajdár.”
306 In text “Al-Maláya.”
307 In text “Sinaubar,” which may also mean pistachio-tree.
308 i.e. 475 to 478 Eng. grains avoir., less than the Ukiyyah or Wukiyyah=ounce = 571.5 to 576 grains. Vol. ix. 216.
309 Not more absurd than an operatic hero singing while he dies.
Here we begin to write and invite the Tale of a man of Syria, Attaf hight.310
They relate (but Allah is All-knowing of His unknown and All-cognisant of what forewent in the annals of folk and the wonders of yore, and of times long gone before!) that in the city of Sham311 there dwelt of old a man Attáf hight, who rivalled Hátim of Tayy312 in his generosity and his guest-love and in his self-control as to manners and morals. Now he lived in the years when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid was reigning in Baghdad-city, and it happened on a day of the days that this Commander of the Faithful awoke morne and melancholic, and right straitened was his breast. So he arose, and taking Ja’afar the Barmecide and Mastur the Eunuch passed with them into the place where his treasures were stored. Presently quoth he to the Wazir, “O Ja’araf, open to me this door that I may solace me with the sight, and my breast may be broadened and haply be gladdened by such spectacle.” The Minister did the bidding of his lord, who, finding a room full of books, put forth his hand, and taking up one of the volumes, opened and read. Thenhe fell to weeping thrice, and thrice to laughing aloud,313 whereat the Wazir considered him and cried, “O King of the Age, how is it I espy thee reading and weeping and laughing at one and the same moment when none so act save madmen and maniacs?”314 And having spoken on this wise he held his peace; but the Prince of True Believers turned himwards and cried, “O dog of the sons of Bermak, I see thee going beyond thy degree and quitting the company of sensible men, and thou speakest vainly making me a madman in saying, ‘None laugh and cry at one and the same time save maniacs?’” With these words the Caliph restored the volume to its place in the Treasury and bade lock the door, after which the three returned to the Divan. Here the Commander of the Faithful regarded Ja’afar and exclaimed, “Go thou forth from before me and address me not again nor seat thee upon the Wazirial seat until thou answer thine own question and thou return me a reply concerning that which is writ and aligned in yonder book I was reading, to the end thou learn why I wept and wherefore I laught at one and the same hour.” And he cried at him in anger saying, “Off and away with thee, nor face me again save with the answer, else will I slay thee with the foulest of slaughter.” Accordingly Ja’afar fared forth and hardly could he see with his eyes, and he kept saying to himself, “Indeed I have fallen with a sore fall; foul befal it for a fall; how fulsome it is!” Then he fared homewards where he encountered face to face his father Yahyá the Bermaki, who was issuing from the mansion and he recounted to him the tale, whereat his parent said, “Go at once, abide not here, but turn thee Damascus-wards until shall terminate this decline of fortune and this disjunciton of favour, and at the ending thereof thou shalt see wonders therein.”315 Ja’afar replied, “Not until I shall have laid a charge upon my Harím;”316 but Yahya cried, “Enter not these doors, hie thee at once to Al-Shám, for even so ’tis determined by Destiny.” Accordingly the Wazir gave ear to his sire, and taking a bag containing one thousand dinars and slinging on his sword farewelled him; then, mounting a she-mule, alone and unattended by slave or page, he rode off and he ceased not riding for ten days full-told until he arrived at the Marj317 or mead of Damascus. Now it so fortuned that on that same day Attaf,318 a fair youth and a well-known of the “Smile of the Prophet,” and one of the noblest and most generous of her sons, had pitched tents and had spread a banquet outside the city, where chancing to sight Ja’afar mounted on his beast, he knew him to be a wayfarer passing by, and said to his slaves, “Call to me yonder man!” They did his bidding and the stranger rode up to the party of friends, and dismounting from his mule saluted them with the salam which they all returned. Then they sat for a while319 after which Attaf arose and led Ja’afar to his house companied by all the company which was there and they paced into a spacious open hall and seated themselves in converse for an hour full-told. Anon the slaves brought them to a table spread with the evening meal and bearing more than ten several manners of meat. So they ate and were cheered, and after the guests had washed hands, the eunuchs and attendants brought in candles of honey-coloured wax that shed a brilliant light, and presently the musicians came in band and performed a right royal partition while the servants served up conserves for dessert. So they ate, and when they had eaten their sufficiency they drank coffee;320 and finally, at their ease and in their own good time, all the guests arose and made obeisance and fared homewards. Then Attaf and Ja’afar sat at table for an hour or so, during which the host offered his guest an hundred greetings, saying, “All kinds of blessings have descended from Heaven upon our heads. Tell me, how was it thou honouredst us, and what was the cause of thy coming and of thy favouring us with thy footsteps?”321 So Ja’afar disclosed to him his name and office322 and told him the reasons of his ride to Damascus from the beginning to the end full and detailed, whereto Attaf rejoined, “Tarry with me an thou please a decade of years; and grieve not at all, for thy Worship is owner of this place.” After this the eunuchs came in and spread for Ja’afar bedding delicately wrought at the head of the hall and its honour-stead, and disposed other sleeping-gear alongside thereof, which seeing the Wazir said to himself, “Haply my host is a bachelor, that they would spread his bed to my side; however, I will venture the question.” Accordingly he addressed his host saying, “O Attaf, art thou single or married?”323 “I am married, O my lord,” quoth the other, whereat Ja’afar resumed, “Wherefore dost thou not go within and lie with thy Harím?” “O my lord,” replied Attaf, “the Harím is not about to take flight, and it would be naught but disgraceful to me were I to leave a visitor like thyself, a man by all revered, to sleep alone while I fare to-night with my Harím and rise betimes to enter the Hammam.324 In me such action would I deem be want of courtesy and failure in honouring a magnifico like thine Honour. In very sooth, O my lord, so long as thy presence deign favour this house I will not sleep within my Harem until I farewell thy Worship and thou depart in peace and safety to thine own place.” “This be a marvellous matter,” quoth Ja’afar to himself, “and peradventure be so doeth the more to make much of me.” So they lay together that night and when morning morrowed they arose and fared to the Baths whither Attaf had sent for the use of his guest a suit of magnificent clothes, and caused Ja’afar don it before leaving the Hammam. Then finding the horses at the door, they mounted and repaired to the Lady’s Tomb,325 and spent a day worthy to be numbered in men’s lives. Nor did they cease visiting place after place by day and sleeping in the same stead by night, in the way we have described, for the space of four months, after which time the soul of the Wazir Ja’afar waxed sad and sorry, and one chance day of the days, he sat him down and wept. Seeing him in tears Attaf asked him, saying, “Allah fend from thee all affliction, O my lord! why dost thou weep and wherefore art thou grieved? An thou be heavy of heart why not relate to me what hath oppressed thee?” Answered Ja’afar, “O my brother, I find my breast sore straitened and I would fain stroll about the streets of Damascus and solace me from seeing the Cathedral-mosque of the Ommiades.”326 “And who, O my lord,” responded the other, “would hinder thee therefrom? Do thou deign wander whither thou wilt and take thy solace, so may thy spirits be gladdened and thy breast be broadened. Herein is none to let or stay thee at all, at all.” Hearing these words Ja’afar arose to fare forth, when quoth his host, “O my lord, shall they saddle thee a hackney?” but the other replied, “O my friend, I would not be mounted for that the man on horseback may not divert himself by seeing the folk; nay the folk enjoy themselves by looking upon him.” Quoth Attaf, “At least delay thee a while that I may supply thee with spending money to bestow upon the folk; and then fare forth and walk about to thy content and solace thyself with seeing whatso thou wilt; so mayest thou be satisfied and no more be sorrowed.” Accordingly, Ja’afar took from Attaf a purse of three hundred dinars and left the house gladly as one who issueth from durance vile, and he turned into the city and began a-wandering about the streets of Damascus and enjoying the spectacle; and at last he entered the Jámi’ al-Amawi where he prayed the usual prayers. After this he resumed his strolling about pleasant places until he came to a narrow street and found a bench formed of stone327 set in the ground. Hereon he took seat to rest a while, and he looked about, when behold, fronting him were latticed windows wherein stood cases planted with sweet-smelling herbs.328 And hardly had he looked before those casements were opened and suddenly appeared thereat a young lady,329 a model of comeliness and loveliness and fair figure and symmetrical grace, whose charms would amate all who upon her gaze, and she began watering her plants. Ja’afar cast upon her a single glance and was sore hurt by her beauty and brilliancy; but she, after looking upon the lattices and watering the herbs to the extent they required turned her round and gazed adown the street where she caught a sight of Ja’afar sitting and earnestly eyeing her. So she barred the windows and disappeared. But the Minister lingered on the bench hoping and expecting that haply the casement would open a second time and allow him another look at her; and as often as he would have risen up his nature said to him, “Sit thee down.” And he stinted not so doing till evening came on, when he arose and returned to the house of Attaf, whom he found standing at the gateway to await him, and presently his host exclaimed, “’Tis well, O my lord! during all this delay indeed my thoughts have gone with thee for that I have long been expecting thy return.” "’Tis such a while since I walked abroad,” answered Ja’afar, “that I had needs look about me and console my soul, wherefor I lingered and loitered.” Then they entered the house and sat down, when the eunuchs served up on trays the evening meal, and the Minister drew near to eat thereof but was wholly unable, so he cast from his hand the spoon and arose. Hereat quoth his host, “Why, O my lord, canst thou not eat?” “Because this day’s noon-meal hath been heavy to me and hindereth my supping; but ’tis no matter!” quoth the other. And when the hour for sleep came Ja’afar retired to rest; but in his excitement by the beauty of that young lady he could not close eye, for her charms had mastered the greater part of his sense and had snared his senses as much as might be; nor could he do aught save groan and cry, “Ah miserable me! who shall enjoy thy presence, O full Moon of the Age and who shall look upon that comeliness and loveliness?” And he ceased not being feverish and to twist and turn upon his couch until late morning, and he was as one lost with love; but as soon as it was the undurn-hour Attaf came in to him and said, “How is thy health? My thoughts have been settled on thee: and I see that thy slumber hath lasted until between dawn and midday: indeed I deem that thou hast lain awake o’ night and hast not slept until so near the midforenoon.” “O my brother, I have no Kayf,”330 replied Ja’afar. So the host forthwith sent a white slave to summon a physician, and the man did his bidding, and after a short delay brought one who was the preventer331 of his day. And when ushered into Ja’afar’s room he addressed the sick man, “There is no harm to thee and boon of health befal thee;332 say me what aileth thee?” “All is excitement333 with me,” answered the other, whereat the Leach putting forth his fingers felt the wrist of his patient, when he found the pulsations pulsing strong and the intermissions intermitting regularly.334 Nothing this he was ashamed to declare before his face, “Thou art in love!” so he kept silence and presently said to Attaf, “I will write thee a recipe containing all that is required by the case.” “Write!” said the host, and the Physician sat down to indite his prescription, when behold, a white slave came in and said to his lord, “Thy Harim requireth thee.” So the host arose and retired to learn what was requireth of him in the women’s apartments, and when his wife saw him she asked, “O my lord, what is thy pleasure that we cook for dinner and supper?” “Whatsoever may be wanted,” he rejoined and went his ways, for since Ja’afar had been guested in his house Attaf had not once entered the inner rooms according as he had before declared to the Minister. Now the Physician during the host’s visit to the Harem had written out the prescription and had placed it under the pillow of the patient, and as he was leaving the house he came suddenly upon the housemaster on return to the men’s apartment, and Attaf asked him, “Hast thou written thy perscription?” “Yes,” answered the Leach, “I have written it and set it under his head.” Thereupon the host pulled out a piastre335 and therewith fee’d the physician; after which he went up to Ja’afar’s couch and drew the paper from under his pillow and read it and saw therein written,336 “O Attaf, verily thy guest is a lover, so do thou look for her he loveth and for his state purvey and make not overmuch delay.” So the host addressed his guest, saying, “Thou art now become one of us: why then hide from me thy case and conceal from me thy condition? This Doctor, than whom is none keener or cleverer in Damascus, hath learned all that befel thee.” Hereupon he produced the paper and showed it to Ja’afar, who took it and read it with a smile; then he cried, “This Physician is a master leach and his saying is soothfast. Know that on the day when I went forth from thee and sauntered about the streets and lanes, there befel me a matter which I never had thought to have betided me; no, never; and I know not what shall become of me for that, O my brother, Attaf, my case is one involving life-loss.” And he told him all that had happened to himself; how when seated upon the bench a lattice had been unclosed afront of him and he had seen a young lady, the loveliest of her time, who had thrown it open and had come forward to water her window-garden; adding, “Now my heart was upstirred by love to her, and she had suddenly withdrawn after looking down the street and closed the casement as soon as she had seen a stranger gazing upon her. Again and again I was minded to rise and retire, but desire for her kept me seated in the hope that haply she would again throw open the lattice and allow me the favour of another glimpse, so could I see her a second time. However, inasmuch as she did not show till evening came on I arose and repaired hither, but of my exceeding agitation for the ardour of love to her I was powerless to touch meat or drink, and my sleep was broken by the excess of desire for her which had homed in my heart. And now, O my brother Attaf, I have made known to thee whatso betided me.” When the host heard these words, he was certified that the house whereof Ja’afar spoke was his house and the lattice his own lattice and the lovely and lovesome young lady his wife the daughter of his paternal uncle, so he said in his thought, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great. Verily we were Allah’s and unto Him shall we return!” But presently he rgained himself in the nobility of his nature, and he continued, “O Ja’afar, thine intent is pure for that the dame thou sawest yesterday was divorced by her husband; and I will straightway fare to her father and bespeak him to the end that none may lay hand upon her; and then will I return and let thee ken all concerning her.” So saying he arose and went at once to his cousin-wife337 who greeted him and kissing his hand said to him, “Is thy guest a-going?” Said he, “By no means; the cause of my coming to thee is not his going, the reason thereof is my design of sending thee to the home of thy people, for that thy father anon met me in the market-street and declared to me that thy mother is dying of a colick, and said to me, ‘Go send her daughter without delay so that she may see her parent alive and meet her once more.’” Accordingly the young wife arose; and, hardly knowing how she moved for tears at such tidings, she took her slave-girls with her and repairing to her home rapped at the door, and her mother who opened to her cried on seeing her, “May this thy coming (Inshallah!) be well, O my daughter, but how is it thou comest thus unexpected?” “Inshallah!” said the wife, “thou art at rest from the colick?” and the mother rejoined, “Who told thee I was colicky? but pass thou within.” So she entered the court and her father, Abdullah Chelebi hight,338 hearing her footstep from an inner room, asked, “What is there to do?” “Thou mettest anon,” replied his daughter, “Attaf thy son-in-law in the Bazar and didst tell him that my mother was sore afflicted with a colick.” Hearing this he exclaimed, “This day I went not once to the market-street nor have I seen a soul!” Now they had not ceased conversing ere the door was rapped; and as the slave girls opened it, they saw porters laden with the young lady’s gear and garments and they led the men into the court where the father asked them, “Who sent these stuffs?” “Attaf,” they replied, and setting down their loads within went their way. Then the father turned to his daughter and said to her, “What deed hast done that my son-in-law bade take up thy gear and have it sent after thee?” And the mother said to him, “Hold thy peace and speak not such speech lest the honour of the house be blamed and shamed.” And as they were talking, behold, up came Attaf companied by a party of friends when his father-in-law asked him, “Wherefore hast thou done on this wise?” “To-day,” answered he, “there came from me a wrongous oath: on account of my inclination to thy daughter my heart is dark as night whereas her good name is whiter than my turband and ever bright.339 Furthermore an occasion befell and this oath fell from my mouth and I bade her be the owner of herself.340 And now will I beweep the past and straightway set her free.” So saying he wrote a writ of repudiation and returning to Ja’afar said, “From early dawn I have wearied myself341 for thy sake and have so acted that no man can lay hand upon her. And at last thou mayst now enjoy life and go to the gardens and the Hammams and take thy pleasure until the days of her widowhood342 be gone by.” Replied Ja’afar, “Allah quicken thee for what thou wroughtest of kindness to me,” and Attaf rejoined, “Find for thyself something thou requirest, O my brother.”343 Then he fell to taking him every day amongst the crowd of pleasure-seekers and solacing him with a show of joyous spectacles344 till the term of divorce had sped, when he said to the Wazir, “O Ja’afar, I would counsel thee with an especial counsel.” “And what may it be, O my brother?” quoth the other; and quoth he, “Know, O my lord, that many of the folk have found the likeness between thy Honour and Ja’afar the Barmecide, wherefore must I fain act on this wise. I will bring thee a troop of ten Mamelukes and four servants on horseback, with whom do thou fare privily and by night forth the city and presently transmit to me tidings from outside the walls that thou the Grand Wazir, Ja’afar the Barmecide, art recalled to court and bound thither from Egypt upon business ordered by the Sultan. Hereat the Governor of Damascus, ‘Abd al-Malik bin Marván345 and the Grandees of Syria will flock forth to meet and greet thee with fêtes and feasts, after which do thou send for the young lady’s sire and of him ask her to wife. Then I will summon the Kazi and witnesses and will write out without stay or delay the marriage-writ with a dower of a thousand dinars the while thou makest ready for wayfare, and if thou journey to Homs or to Hamah do thou alight at whatso place ever pleaseth thee. Also I will provide thee of spending-money as much as thy soul can desire and supply to thee raiment and gear, horses and bat-animals, tents and pavilions of the cheap and of the dear, all thou canst require. So what sayest thou concerning this counsel?” “Fair fall it for the best of rede which hath no peer,” replied Ja’afar. Hereupon Attaf arose and gathering his men about his guest sent him forth the city when the Minister wrote a write and dispatched it by twenty horsemen with a trader to inform the Governor of Syria that Ja’afar the Barmecide was passing that way and was about to visit Damascus on the especial service of the Sultan. So the Kapújí346 entered Damascus and read out the Wazirial letter347 announcing Ja’afar’s return from Egypt. Hereat the Governor arose and after sending a present of provisions348 without the walls bade pitch the tents, and the Grandees of Syria rode forth to meet the Minister, and the Headmen of the Province set out to greet him, and he entered with all honour and consideration. It was indeed a day fit to be numbered among the days of a man’s life, a day of general joyance for those present, and they read the Farmán and they offered the food and the forage to the Chamberlain and thus it became known to one and all of the folk that a writ of pardon had come to Ja’afar’s hands and on this wise the bruit went abroad, far and near, and the Grandees brought him all manner of presents. After this Ja’afar sent to summon the young lady’s father and as soon as he appeared in his presence, said to him, “Thy daughter hath been divorced?” and said the other, “Yes; she is at home with me.” Quoth the Minister, “I would fain take her to wife;” and quoth the father, “Here am I ready to send her as thy handmaid.” The Governor of Sham added, “I will assume charge of the dowry,” and the damsel’s father rejoined, “It hath already come to hand.”349 Hereat they summoned the Kazi and wrote out the writ of Ja’afar’s marriage; and, having ended the ceremony, they distributed meat and drink to the poor in honour of the wedding, and Abd al-Malik bin Marwan said to Ja’afar, “Deign, O my lord, come hither with me and become my guest, and I will set apart for thee a place wherein thou canst consummate thy marriage.” But the other replied, “Nay, I may not do so; I am sent on public affairs by the Commander of the Faithful and I purpose setting off with my bride and marching without further delay.” The Grandees of Syria spent that night until morning without any being able to snatch a moment of sleep, and as soon as dawned the day Ja’afar sent to summon his father-in-law and said, “On the morrow I design setting forth, and I desire that my bride be ready for the road;” whereto replied the other, “Upon my head be it and my eyes!” Then Abdullah Chelebi fared homewards and said to his daughter, “O my child, Attaf hath divorced thee from bed and from board, whereas Sultan Ja’afar the Bermaki hath taken thee to wife, and on Allah is the repairing of our broken fortunes and the fortifying of our hearts.” And she held her peace for displeasure by cause that she loved Attaf on account of the blood-tie and his exceeding great generosity. But on the next day Ja’afar sent a message to her sire informing him that the march would begin about mid-afternoon and that he wished him to make all ready, so the father did accordingly; and when Attaf heard thereof he sent supplies and spending-money.350 At the time appointed the Minister took horse escorted by the Governor and the Grandees, and they brought out the mule-litter351 wherein was the bride, and the procession rode onwards until they had reached the Dome of the Birds,352 whereat the Minister bade them return home and they obeyed him and farewelled him. But on the ride back they all met Attaf coming from the city, and he reined in his horse and saluted the Governor and exchanged salams with his companions, who said to him, “Now at the very time we are going in thou comest out.” Attaf made answer, “I wotted not that he would set forth this day, but as soon as I was certified that he had mounted I sent to summon his escort and came forth a-following him.”353 To this the Governor replied, “Go catch them up at the Dome of the Birds, where they are now halting.” Attaf followed this counsel and reaching the place alighted from his mare, and approaching Ja’afar embraced him and cried, “Laud to the Lord, O brother mine, who returneth thee to thy home with fortunes repaired and heart fortified;” and said the Minister, “O Attaf, Allah place it in my power to requite thee; but cease thou not to write me and apprise me of thy tidings; and for the nonce I order thee to return hence and not to lie the night save in thine own house.” And his host did his bidding whilst the cousin-wife hearing his voice thrust her head out of the litter and looked upon him with flowing tears, understanding the length to which his generosity had carried him. So fared it with Attaf and his affair; but now give ear to what befell him from Abd al-Malik bin Marwan. As they hied them home one who hated the generous man asked the Governor, “Wottest thou the wherefore he went forth to farewell his quondam guest at so late a time as this?” “Why so?” answered the other; and the detractor continued, “Ja’afar hath tarried four months as a guest in his household, and disguised so that none save the host knew him, and now Attaf fared not forth for his sake but because of the woman.” “What woman?” enquired the Governor, and the other replied, “His whilom wife, whom he divorced for the sake of this stranger, and married her to him; so this day he followeth to enjoin him once more concerning the Government of Syria which perchance is promised to him. And ’tis better that thou breakfast upon him ere he sup upon thee.” The other enquired, “And whose daughter is she, is not her sire Abdullah Chelebi?”354 Whereto the man answered, “Yes, O my lord, and I repeat that she was put away to the intent that Ja’afar might espouse her.” When the Governor heard these words, he was wroth with wrath galore than which naught could be more, and he hid his anger from Attaf for a while of time until he had devised a device to compass his destruction. At last, one day of the days, he bade cast the corpse of a murthered man into his enemy’s garden and after the body was found by spies he had sent to discover the slayer, he summoned Attaf and asked him, “Who murthered yon man within thy grounds?” Replied the other, “’Twas I slew him.” “And why didst slay him?” cried the Governor, “and what harm hath he wrought thee?” But the generous one replied, “O my lord, I have confessed to the slaughter of this man in order that I and only I may be mulcted in his blood-wite lest the neighbours say, ‘By reason of Attaf’s garden we have been condemned to pay his fine.’” Quoth Abd al-Malik, “Why should I want to take mulcts from the folk? Nay; I would command according to the Holy Law and even as Allah hath ordered, ‘A life for a life.’” He then turned for testimony to those present and asked them, “What said this man?” and they answered, “He said, ‘I slew him.’” “Is the accused in his right mind or Jinn-mad?”355 pursued the Governor; and they said, “In his senses.” Then quoth the Governor to the Mufti, “O Efendi, deliver me thine official decision according to that thou heardest from the accused’s mouth;” and the Judge pronounced and indited his sentence upon the criminal according to his confession. Hereupon the Governor gave order for his slaves to plunder the house and bastinado the owner; then he called for the headsman, but the Notables interfered and cried, “Give him a delay, for thou hast no right to slay him without further evidence; and better send him to gaol.” Now all Damascus was agitated and excited by this affair, which came upon the folk so suddenly and unforeseen. And Attaf’s friends356 and familiars came down upon the Governor and went about spreading abroad that the generous man had not spoken such words save in fear lest his neighbours be molested and be mulcted for a murther which they never committed, and that he was wholly innocent of such crime. So Abd al-Malik bin Marwan summoned them and said, “An ye plead that the accused is Jinn-mad this were folly, for he is the prince of intelligent men: I was resolved to let him life until the morrow; but I have been thwarted and this very night I will send and have him strangled.” Hereupon he returned to prison and ordered the gaoler to do him die before day might break. But the man waxed wroth with exceeding wrath to hear the doom devised for Attaf and having visited him in prison said to him, “Verily the Governor is determined to slay thee for he was not satisfied with the intercession made for thee by the folk or even with taking the legal blood-wite.” Hereat Attaf wept and cried, “Allah (be He magnified and glorified!) hath assigned unto every death a cause. I desired but to do good amongst the garden folk and prevent their being fined; and now this benevolence hath become the reason of my ruin.” Then, after much ‘say and said,’ the gaoler spoke as follows, “Why talk after such fashion? I am resolved to set thee free and to ransom thee with my life; and at this very moment I will strike off thy chains and deliver thee from him. But do thou arise and tear my face and pluck out my beard and rend my raiment; then, after thrusting a gag357 into my mouth wend thy ways and save thy life and leave me to bear all blame.”358 Quoth Attaf, “Allah requite thee for me with every weal!” Accordingly the gaoler did as he had undertaken and his prisoner went forth unhurt and at once followed the road to Baghdad. So far concerning him; but now hear thou what befell the Governor of Syria, Abd al-Malik bin Marwan. He took patience till midnight, when he arose and fared accompanied by the headsman to the gaol that he might witness the strangling of Attaf; but lo and behold! he found the prison door wide open and the keeper in sore sorrow with his raiment all rent to rags and his beard plucked out and his face scratched and the blood trickling from his four sides and his case was the miserablest of cases. So they removed the gag from his mouth and the Governor asked him, “Who did with thee on this wise?” and the man answered, “O my lord, yesternight, about the middle thereof, a gang of vagabonds and ne’er-do-wells as they were ‘Ifrits of our lord Sulayman (upon whom be The Peace!), not one of whom I recognized, came upon me and ere I was ware of them they broke down the prison door and killed me;359 and when I would have cried aloud and shouted for aid they placed yonder gag in my mouth, then they wounded me and shredded my dress and left me in the state thou seest. Moreover they took Attaf after breaking his chains and said to him, ‘Go and lay thy complaint before the Sultan.’” Now those who accompanied the Governor said, “This be a gaoler and the son of a gaoler, nor during all his days hath anyone charged him with letting a prisoner out of hand.” Quoth Abd al-Malik to the wounded man, “Hie thee to thy house and stay there;” whereat he straightway arose and went his ways. After this the Governor took horse, he and his escort; and all rode off to search for Attaf during a term of four days and some of them dug and dug deep down while the others returned after a bootless errand, and reported that they had failed to find him. Such was the case with the Governor of Syria; and now give ear to the adventure of Attaf. He left not wayfaring until but a single stage remained between him and Baghdad when robbers came upon him and stripped him of all his clothes, so that he was compelled to enter the capital in foulest condition, naked even as his mother bare him. And after some charitable wight had thrown an old robe about him and bound his head with a clout (and his unshorn hair fell over his eyes)360 he fell to asking for the mansion of the Wazir Ja’afar and the folk guided him thereto. But when he would have entered the attendants suffered him not; so he stood at the gate till an old man joined him. Attaf enquired of him saying, “Hast thou with thee, O Shaykh, an ink-case and pens and paper?” and the other replied, “I have; but what is thy need thereof? tell me, so may I write for thee.” “I will write myself,” rejoined Attaf; and when the old man handed to him the gear, he took seat and indeed an address to Ja’afar informing him of all that passed from first to last, and especially of his own foul plight.361 Presently he returned the ink-case and reed pens to the Shaykh; and, going up to the gate, asked those standing about the doors, “Will ye not admit for me this missive and place it in the hand of his Highness, Ja’afar the Bermaki, the Wazir?” “Give it here,” said they, and one of them took it with the intent of handing it to the Minister when suddenly the cannon roared;362 the palace was in a hubbub and each and everyone cried, “What is to do?” Hereat many voices replied, “The Sultan, who hath been favoured with a man-child, who had charged himself with the letter, threw it in that confusion from his hand and Attaf was led to gaol as a vagrant. Anon Ja’afar took horse and, after letting read the Sultan’s rescript about the city-decorations, gave command that all the prisoners be released, Attaf amongst the number. As he issued forth the gaol he beheld all the streets adorned with flags and tapestry, and when evening approached eating-cloths and trays of food were set and all fell-in, while sundry said to Attaf who was in pauper plight, “Come and eat thou;” for it was a popular feast.363 And affairs went on after this same fashion and the bands made music and cannon was fired until ended the week of decoration during which the folk ceased not to-ing and fro-ing. As evening evened Attaf entered a cathedral-mosque and prayed the night-prayers when he was accosted by the eunchs who cried, “Arise and gang this gait, that we may close the mosque-door, O Attaf,” for his name had become known. He replied, “O man, the Apostle of Allah saith, ‘Whoso striveth for good is as the doer thereof and the doer is of the people of Paradise:’ so suffer me to sleep here in some corner;” but quoth the other, “Up with thee and be off: yesterday they stole me a bit of matting and to-night I will bolt the door nor allow any to sleep here. And indeed the Apostle of Allah (whom the Almighty save and assain!) hath forbidden sleep o’ nights in the mosques.” Attaf had no competence to persuade the Castrato by placing himself under his protection, albeit he prayed him sore saying, “I am a stranger in the city nor have I knowledge of any, so do thou permit me here to pass this one night and no more.” But as he was again refused he went forth into the thoroughfares where the street dogs barked at him, and thence he trudged on to the market where the watchmen and warders cried out at him, till at last he entered a ruinous house where he stumbled when walking and fell over something which proved to be a youth lately murthered, and in tripping he fell upon his face and his garments were bewrayed and crimsoned with blood. And as he stood in doubt as to what must be done the Wali and the watch, who were going round the town by night, met him face to face; and as soon as they saw him all rushed at him in a body and seizing him bore him to the gaol. Here we leave speaking of him; and now return we to Ja’afar and what befel him. After he had set out from Damascus and sent back Attaf from the Dome of the Birds he said in his mind, “Thou art about to consummate marriage with a damsel and to travel until thou shalt reach Baghdad, so meanwhile up and take thee an ewer of water and make the Wuzú and pray.” However, as he purposed that evening to go in unto the wife of Attaf, controversy forewent compliments364 and the tent-pitchers, who were sent on to the next station to set up the pavilion of the bride and the other tents. Ja’afar took patience until every eye however wakeful waxed sleep-full, at which time he rose up and went in to Attaf’s wife who, the moment she saw him enter, covered her face with her hands as from a stranger. “The Peace be upon thee!” said he and said she, “With thee also be The Peace and the ruth of Allah and His blessings.” Then he continued, “O daughter of my father’s brother365 why hast thou placed thy hand upon thy face? in the lawful there be naught of shameful.” “True, O my lord,” she replied, “but Modesty is a part of Religion. If to one the like of thee it be a light matter that the man who guested thee and served thee with his coin and his case be treated on this wise and thou have the heart to take his mate from him, then am I but a slave between thy hands.” “Art thou the divorced wife of Attaf?” asked Ja’afar, and she answered, “I am.” Quoth he, “And why did thy husband on such wise?” and quoth she, “The while I stood watering plants at the window, thy Highness deigned look upon me and thou toldest thy love to Attaf, who forthright put me away and made me wife to thy Worship. And this is wherefore I conceal from thee my face.” Ja’afar cried, “Thou art now unlawful to him and licit to me; but presently thou shalt become illicit to me and legitimate to thy husband; so from this time forth thou art dearer and more honorable to me than my eyes and my mother and my sister. But for the moment thy return to Damascus is not possible for fear of foolish tongues lest they prattle and say, ‘Attaf went forth to farewell Ja’afar, and his wife lay the night with the former, and thus have the back-bones had a single lappet.’366 However I will bear thee to Baghdad where I will stablish thee in a spacious and well furnished lodging with ten slave girls and eunuchs to serve thee; and, as long as thou abide with me, I will give thee367 every day five golden ducats and every month a suit of sumptuous clothes. Moreover everything in thy lodging shall be thine; and whatever gifts and offerings be made to thee they shall be thy property, for the folk will fancy thee to be my bride and will entertain thee and escort thee to the Hammams and present thee with sumptuous dresses. After this fashion thou shalt pass thy days in joyance and thou shalt abide with me in highmost honour and esteem and worship till what time we see that can be done. So from this moment forth368 throw away all fear and hereafter be happy in heart and high in spirits, for that now thou standest me in stead of mother and sister and here naught shall befall thee save weal. And now my first desire to thee which burned in my soul hath been quenched and exchanged for brotherly love yet stronger than what forewent it.” So Attaf’s wife rejoiced with exceeding joy; and, as they pursued their journey, Ja’afar ceased not to clothe her in the finest of clothes, so that men might honour her as the Wazir’s Consort; and ever to entreat her with yet increasing deference. This endured until they entered Baghdad-city where the attendants bore her Takhtrawan into the Minister’s Harem and an apartment was set apart for her even as he had promised, and she was provided with a monthly allowance of a thousand dianrs and all the comforts and conveniences and pleasures whereof he had bespoken her; nor did he ever allow his olden flame for her to flare up again, and he never went near her, but sent messengers to promise her a speedy reunion with her mate. Such was the case of Ja’afar and Attaf’s wife; and now give ear to what befell and betided the Minister during his first reception by his liege lord who had sorely regretted his departure and was desolated by the loss of him. As soon as he presented himself before the Caliph, who rejoiced with exceeding joy and returned his salute and his deprecation of evil,369 the Commander of the Faithful asked him, “Where was the bourne of this thy wayfare?” and he answered, “Damascus.” “And where didst alight?” “In the house of one Attaf hight,” rejoined Ja’afar, who recounted all that his host had done with him from the beginning to the end. The Prince of True Believers took patience, until he had told his story and then cried to his Treasurer saying, “Hie thee hence and open the Treasury and bring me forth a certain book.” And when this was done he continued, “Hand that volume to Ja’afar.” Now when the Minister took it and read it he found written therein all that had occurred between Attaf and himself and he left not reading till he came to the time when the twain, host and guest, had parted and each had farewel’ed other and Attaf had fared homewards. Hereupon the Caliph cried to him, “Close the book at what place it completeth the recital of thy bidding adieu to Attaf and of his returning to his own place, so shalt thou understand how it was I said to thee, ‘Near me not until thou bring that which is contained in this volume.’” Then the Commander of the Faithful restored the book to the Treasurer saying, “Take this and set it in the bibliotheca;” then, turning to Ja’afar he observed, “Verily Almighty Allah (be He glorified and magnified!) hath deigned show thee whatso I read therein until I fell a-weeping and a-laughing at one and the same time. So now do thou retire and hie thee home.” Ja’afar did his bidding and reassumed the office of Wazir after fairer fashion than he was before. And now return we to the purport of our story as regardeth the designs of Attaf and what befel him when they took him out of gaol. They at once led him to the Kazi who began by questioning him, saying, “Woe to thee, didst thou murther this Háshimi?”370 Replied he, “Yes, I did!” “And why killedst thou him?” “I found him in yonder ruin, and I struck him advisedly and slew him!” “Art thou in thy right senses?” “Yea, verily.” “What may be thy name?” “I am hight Attaf.” Now when the Judge heard this confession, which was thrice repeated, he wrote a writ to the Mufti and acquainted him with the contention; and the divine after delivering his decision produced a book and therein indited the procès-verbal. Then he sent notice thereof to Ja’afar the Wair for official order to carry out the sentence and the Minister took the document and affixing his seal and signature thereto gave the order for the execution. So they bore Attaf away and led him to the gallows-foot whither he was followed by a world of folk in number as the dust; and, as they set him under the tree Ja’afar the Wazir, who was riding by with his suite at the time, suddenly espied a crowd going forth the city. Thereupon he summoned the Sobáshí371 who came up to him and kissed his knee. “What is the object of this gathering of folk who be manifold as the dust and what do they want?” quoth the Wazir; and quoth the officer, “We are wending to hang372 a Syrian who hath murthered a youth of Sharif family.” “And who may be this Syrian?” asked the Wazir, and the other answered, “One hight Attaf.” But when Ja’afar heard the word Attaf he cried out with a mighty loud outcry and said, “Hither with him.” So after loosing the noose from his neck they set him before the Wazir who regarding him at once recognized his whilome host albeit he was in the meanest of conditions, so he sprang up and threw himself upon him and he in turn threw himself upon his sometime quest.373 “What condition be this?” quoth Ja’afar as soon as he could speak, and quoth Attaf, “This cometh of my acquaintance with thee which hath brought me to such pass.” Hereupon the twain swooned clean away and fell down fainting on the floor, and when they came to themselves and could rise to their feet Ja’afar the Wazir sent his friend Attaf to the Hammam with a sumptuous suit of clothes which he donned as he came out. Then the attendants led him to the Wazirial mansion where both took seat and drank wine and ate the early meal374 and after their coffee they sat together in converse. And when they had rested and were cheered, Ja’afar said, “Do thou acquaint me with all that betided thee from the time we took leave each of other until this day and date.” So Attaf fell to telling him how he had been entreated by Abdal-Malik bin Marwan, Governor of Syria; how he had been thrown into prison and how his enemy came thither by night with intent to strangle him; also how the gaoler devised a device to save him from slaughter and how he had fled nor ceased flight till he drew near Baghdad when robbers had stripped him; how he had lost an opportunity of seeing the Wazir because the city had been decorated; and, lastly, what had happened to him through being driven from the Cathedral-mosque; brief, he recounted all from commencement to conclusion. Hereupon the Minister loaded him with benefits and presently gave orders to renew the marriage-ceremony between man and wife; and she seeing her husband led in to pay her the first visit lost her senses, and her wits flew from her head and she cried aloud, “Would Heaven I wot if this be on wake or the imbroglio of dreams!” So she started like one frightened and a moment after she threw herself upon her husband and cried, “Say me, do I view thee in vision or really in the flesh?” whereto he replied, “In the world of sense and no sweven is this.” Then he took seat beside her and related to her all that had befallen him of hardships and horrors till he was taken from under the Hairibee; and she on her part recounted how she had dwelt under Ja’afar’s roof, eating well and drinking well and dressing well and in honour and worship the highmost that might be. And the joy of this couple on reunion was perfect. But as for Ja’afar when the morning morrowed, he arose and fared for the Palace; then, entering the presence, he narrated to the Caliph all that had befallen Attaf, art and part; and the Commander of the Faithful rejoined, “Indeed this adventure is the most wondrous that can be, and the most marvelous that ever came to pass.” Presently he called to the Treasurer and bade him bring the book a second time from the Treasury, and when it was brought the Prince of True Believers took it, and handing it to Ja’afar, said to him, “Open and read.” So he perused the whole tale of Attaf with himself the while his liege lord again wept and laughed at the same moment and said, “In very deed, all things strange and rare are written and laid up amongst the treasuries of the Kings; and therefor I cried at thee in my wrath and forbade thee my presence until thou couldst answer the question, What is there is this volume? and thou couldst comprehend the cause of my tears and my smiles. Then thou wentest from before me and wast driven by doom of Destiny until befel thee with Attaf that which did befal; and in fine thou returnedst with the reply I required.” Then the Caliph enrobed Ja’afar with a sumptuous honour-robe and said to the attendants, “Bring hither to me Attaf.” So they went out and brought him before the Prince of True Believers; and the Syrian standing between his hands blessed the Sovran and prayed for his honour and glory in permanence of prosperity and felicity. Hereat quoth the Caliph, “O Attaf ask what thou wishest!” and quoth the generous man, “O King of the Age, I pray only thy pardon for Abd al-Malik bin Marwan.” “For that he harmed htee?” asked Harun al-Rashid, and Attaf answered, “O my lord, the transgression came not from him, but from Him who caused him work my wrong; and I have freely pardoned him. Also do thou, O my lord, write a Farmán with thine own hand certifying that I have sold to the gaoler, and have received from the price thereof, all my slaves and estates in fullest tale and most complete. Moreover deign thou appoint him inspector over the Governor of Syria375 and forward to him a signet-ring by way of sign that no petition which doth not bear that seal shall be accepted or even shall be heard and lastly transmit all this with a Chamberlain unto Damascus.” Now all the citizens of Syria were expecting some ill-turn from the part of Attaf, and with this grievous thought they were engrossed, when suddenly tidings from Baghdad were bruited abroad; to wit, that a Kapuji was coming on Attaf’s business. Hereat the folk feared with exceeding great affright and fell to saying, “Gone is the head of Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, and gone all who could say aught in his defence.” And when the arrival of the Chamberlain was announced all fared forth to meet and greet him, and he entered on a day of flocking and crowding,376 which might be truly numbered amongst the days and lives of men. And presently he produced the writ of indemnity, and pardon may not be procured save by one duly empowered to pardon. Then he sent for the gaoler and committed to him the goods and chattels of Attaf, together with the signet and the appointment of supervisor over the Governor of Syria with an especial Farman that no order be valid unless sealed with the superior’s seal. Nor was Abd al-Malik bin Marwan less rejoiced that the adventure had ended so well for him when he saw the Kapuji returning Baghdad-wards that he might report all concerning his mission. But as for Attaf, his friend Ja’afar bestowed upon him seigniories and presented him with property and moneys exceeding tenfold what he had whilome owned and made him more prosperous than he had ever been aforetime.
Mr. Alexander J. Cotheal, of New York, a correspondent who already on sundry occasions has rendered me able aid and advice, was kind enough to send me his copy of the Tale of Attaf (the “C. MS.” of the foregoing pages). It is a small 4to of pp. 334, size 5 3/4 by 8 inches, with many of the leaves injured and repaired; and written in a variety of handwritings, here a mere scribble, there regular and legible as printed Arabic. A fly-leaf inserted into the Arabic binding contains in cursive hand the title, “A Book embracing many Tales of the Tales of the Kings and named ‘Stories from the Thousand Nights and a Night’.” And a note at the end supplies the date: “And the finish thereof was on Fifth Day (Thursday), 9th from the beginning of the auspicious month Rabí‘a 2nd, in the year 1096 of the Hijrah of the Apostle, upon whom be the choicest of blessings and the fullest of greetings; and Allah prospereth what he pleaseth,377 and praise be to God the One.” Thus (A.H. 1096 = A.D. 1685) the volume is upwards of 200 years old. It was bought by Mr. Cotheal many years ago with other matters among the effects of a deceased American missionary who had brought it from Syria.
The “Tale of Attaf” occupies pp. 10-50, and the end is abrupt. The treatment of the “Novel” contrasts curiously with that of the Chavis MS. which forms my text, and whose directness and simplicity give it a European and even classical character. It is an excellent study of the liberties allowed to themselves by Eastern editors and scribes. In the Cotheal MS. the tone is distinctly literary, abounding in verse (sometimes repeated from other portions of The Nights), and in Saj’a or Cadence which the copyist sometimes denotes by marks in red ink. The wife of Attaf is a much sterner and more important personage than in my text: she throws water upon her admirer as he gazes upon her from the street, and when compelled to marry him by her father, she “gives him a bit of her mind” as forcibly and stingingly as if she were of “Anglo-Saxon” blood; e.g. “An thou have in thee aught of manliness and generosity thou wilt divorce me even as he did.” Sundry episodes like that of the brutal Eunuch at Ja’afar’s door, and the Vagabond in the Mosque, are also introduced; but upon this point I need say no more, as Mr. Cotheal shall now speak for himself.
Story of Attaf the generous, and what happened to him with the Wazir Ja’afar who fell in love with a young lady not knowing her to be the cousin-wife of Attaf who, in his generosity divorced her and married her to him. The NaVb of Damascus being jealous of Attaf’s intimacy with Ja’afar imprisons him for treason and pillages his property. Escape of Attaf from prison and his flight to Baghdad where he arrives in a beggarly condition, and being accused of assassination is condemned to death, but being released he goes to Ja’afar who recognises him and is rewarded by him and the Caliph. His wife is restored to him and after a while they are sent home to Damascus of which he is appointed Wali in place of the NaVb who is condemned to death, but is afterwards exiled.
In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate, to whom we cry for help.
They say God is omniscient, knowing the past and the future, and we learn from the histories of the peoples that there was in ancient times and bygone seasons (and God knows best!) a Caliph of the Caliphs or the orthodox and he was Harun er-Rashid who one night became very restless and from the drowsiness that came upon him he sat down upon the bed and dressed himself in sleeping-clothes; then it was that he called to his service Mesrúr the sword-bearer of grace who came immediately into his presence and said to him, O Mesrur, the night is very oppressive and I wish thee to dispel my uneasiness. Then Mesrur said to him, O Commander of the Faithful, arise now and go to the terrace-roof of the palace and look upon the canopy of heaven and upon the twinkling stars and the brightness of the moon, while listening to the music of the rippling streams and the creaking norias as they are spoken of by the poet who said:—
A Noria that discharges by the spouts of her tears resembles the actions of a distracted lover:
She is the lover of her branches (sweeps or levers) by the magic in her heart until she laughs:
She complains and the tears run from her eyes, she rises in the morning to find herself weeping and complaining.
Then he said, O Commander of the Faithful, the streams also are thus mentioned by one of them:—
My favorite is a damsel dispensing drink, and my recreation is a running stream;
A damsel whose eyes are a garden of Paradise, and a garden whose springs make a running brook.
Then again said Harun er-Rashid, O Mesrur, such is not my wish, and Mesrur replied, O Commander of the Faithful, in thy palace are three hundred and sixty damsels, they are thy concubines and thy slaves, and they are as if they were rising moons and beautiful gazelles, and in elegant robes they are dressed like the flowers. Walk around in the midst of the palaces and from thy hiding-place see each of them enter by herself in her own apartment admiring her beauty and her magnificent dresses, all showing their joy and mirth since they will not know of thee; then listen to their singing and their playing and their joyous company in their apartments and perhaps you’ll attach yourself to one of them who’ll play with thee, keep thee awake and be thy cup-companion, dispelling what may remain of thy restlessness. But he replied, O Mesrur, bring to me my cousin Ja’afar the Barmeky immediately. So he answered, Hearing is obedience. Then Mesrur went out to the house of Ja’afar and said to him, Come to the Commander of the Faithful, and he answered, To hear is to obey. Then Ja’afar dressed himself and went with Mesrur to the Caliph and kissing the ground before him he said, May it be good! O Commander of the Faithful. It is not other than good, he answered, but I am wearied this night with a great weariness and I sent for you to divert me so that my unrest may be dissipated. Then Ja’afar said, Let’s get up, O Commander of the Faithful, and we’ll go out into the garden of the palace and listen to the warbling of the birds and smell of the odours of the flowers, and the cool zephyr with its gentle breath will pass over us, dispelling our uneasiness and gladdening the heart. The Rawi says that Ja’afar was very familiar with the Caliph by reason of the endearment between them. Then the Caliph arose and with Ja’afar and Mesrur went to the garden. The Caliph began to be thoughtful and asked about the trees and the qualities of the flowers and the fruits and the nature of their colours, and as the Caliph took pleasure in that, he walked around for an hour and then passed over to the palaces and houses, going from place to place, from quarter to quarter, and from market to market; and, whilst they were going on, they stopped before a bookshop and the Caliph opened a book-case and began to turn over the books one by one, and taking one in his hand opened it, began to read in it, and then suddenly laughed until he fell upon his back. He read in it again and wept until his beard was wet with the falling tears, and wrapping up the book he put it in his sleeve when Ja’afar said, O Commander of the Faithful and Lord of the two worlds, what was it that made thee laugh and then weep at the same time? When the Caliph heard that he was angered and cried out at him in the midst of his rage, O dog of a Barmeky, what an impertinence on thy part about what concerns thee not, why meddle with what thou hast not lost. You’ve taken upon yourself to be annoying and conceited, you have passed beyond your place and it only remained for you to brave the Caliph. By my fathers and grandfathers, if thou dost not bring me someone who can tell me about the contents of this book from the first page to the last, I’ll strike thy neck and show thee what it is that has made me laugh and cry. When Ja’afar heard these words and saw his passion he said, O Commander of the Faithful, I have committed a fault: a sin is for the like of me and forgiveness for the like of your Highness; to which the Caliph answered, I have made oath, thou must bring that person to explain the book or I’ll strike thy neck this very hour. Then Ja’afar said, O Commander of the Faithful, God created the heavens and the two worlds in six days and if it had pleased Him He could have created them in a single hour, but He did so for an instruction to his worshippers that one should not fault with another but be patient; then, O Lord, be thou patient with thy servant if it be for three days only; and the Caliph replied to him, If thou bringest not to me him whom I have mentioned I will slay thee with the most horrible of deaths. At this Ja’afar said, I depart on thy mission; thereupon Ja’afar went home with a sorrowful heart to his father Yahya and his brother El-Fadl to take leave of them and weep. Then they said to him, What is thy trouble? so he told them of what had occurred between him and the Caliph and of the condition laid upon him of execution if not complied with in three days, for doubtless the Caliph seeks my death; he who strikes against a point, ’twill pierce his hand, and he that struggles with a lion will be killed; but as to myself I can no longer remain with him for that would be the greatest of dangers for me and for thee, O my father, and for thee, O my brother. I now set out to travel and I wish to go far away from his eye. The preservation of life is not esteemed and is of little value: distance is the best preservative for our necks-as is said by the poet:—
Save your life if menaced by evil (danger), and leave the house to complain of the builder:
You’ll find a land upon a land, but not another life for your own life.
When he had finished, his father and his brother said to him, Do not do so, for probably the Caliph will be merciful to you. And Ja’afar answered, Only good will come of my travel. Then he went to his treasure-room and took out a purse containing 1,000 dinars, mounted his horse, put on his sword, bade adieu to his father and brother and set forth in his time and hour; then, not taking with him any servants, either slave or boy, he hastened on his journey, travelling day and night for twenty days until he reached the city of Aleppo without stopping, passing by Hamah and Homs until he reached Teniyát al-Igáb and arrived at Damascus where he entered the city and saw the Minaret of the Bride from bottom to top covered with gilded tiles; and it surrounded with meadows, irrigated gardens with all kinds of flowers, fields of myrtle with mountains of violets and other beauties of the gardens. He dwelt upon these charms while listening to the singing of the birds in the trees; and he saw a city whose like has never been created in any other country of the world. Turning then to the right hand and to the left he espied a man standing near him and said to him, O my brother, what’s the name of this city? and he answered, O my lord, this city in ancient times was called Jullag the same that is mentioned by the poet who says:—
I am called Jullag and my heart I attach, in me flow the waters, in and out;
The Garden of Eden upon the earth, birth-place of the fairies:
I will never forget thy beauties, O Damascus, for none but thee will I ever long:—
Blessed be the wonders that glitter on thy roofs (expanse).
She was also called Sham (grain of beauty) because she is the Sham of Cities and the Sham of God on earth. Ja’afar was pleased at the explanation of the name, and dismounted with the intention of taking a stroll through the streets, by the great houses and the domes (mosks). Whilst thus engaged in examining the various places and their beauties, he perceived a tent of silk brocade called Dibáj, containing carpets, furniture, cushions, silk curtains, chairs and beds. A young man was sitting upon a mattress, and he was like a rising moon, like the shining orb in its fourteenth night. He was in an undress, upon his head a kerchief and on his body a rose-coloured gaberdine; and as he sat before him were a company and drinks worthy of Kings. Ja’afar stopped and began to contemplate the scene, and was pleased with what he saw of the youth; then looking further he espied a damsel like unto the sun in serene firmament who took her lute and played on it while singing:—
Evil to whoever have their heart in possession of their lovers, for in obtaining it they will kill it:
They have abandoned it when they have seen it amorous: when they see it amorous they abandon it.
Nursling, they pluck it out from the very entrails: O bird, repeat “Nursling they have plucked thee out!”
They have killed it unjustly: the loved plays the coquette with the humble lover.
The seeker of the effects of love, love am I, brother of love, and sigh
Behold the man stricken by love, though his heart change not they bury it (him?).
The Rawi said that Ja’afar was pleased and he rejoiced at hearing the song and all his organs were moved at the voice of the damsel and he said, Wallahy, it is fine. Then she began again to sing, reciting the following verses:—
With these sentiments thou art in love, it is not wonderful that I should love thee:
I stretch out my hand to thee asking for mercy and pity for my humility — mayst thou be charitable;
My life has passed away soliciting thy consent, but I have not found it in my confidence to be charitable,
And I have become a slave in consequence of her possession of love my heart is imprisoned and my tears flow.
When the poem was finished Ja’afar gave himself up more and more to the pleasure of hearing and looking at the damsel. The youth, who was reclining, sat up and calling some of his boys said to them, Don’t you see that young man standing there in front of us? They answered, Yes, and he said, He must be a stranger for I see on him the signs of travel; bring him to me and take care not to offend him. They answered, With joy and gladness, and went towards Ja’afar, who, while contemplating the damsel, perceived the boy that came and who said to him, In the name of God, O my lord, please have the generosity to come in to our master. Ja’afar came with the boy to the door of the tent, dismounted from his horse and entered at hte moment when the youth was rising upon his feet, and he stretched out his two hands and saluted him as if he had always known him, and after he had chanted the prayer to the envoy (of Allah) he sang:—
O my visitor be welcome, thou enlivenest us and bringest us our union:
By thy face I live when it appears and I die if it disappears.
Then he said to Ja’afar, Please be seated, my dear sir; thanks be to God for your happy arrival; and he continued his chant after another prayer to the envoy (of God):—
If we had known of thy arrival we would have covered (thy) heart with the black of our eyes,
And we would have spread the street with out cheeks that thy coming might have been between our eyelids.
After that he arose, kissed the breast of Ja’afar, magnified his power and said to him, O my Master, this day is a happy one and were it not a fast-day I would have fasted for thee to render thanks to God. Then came up the servants to whom he said, Bring us what is ready. They spread the table of viands and the youth said, O my lord, the Sages say, If you are invited content yourself with what’s before you, but if you are not invited, stay not and visit not again; if we had known that you would arrive to-day we would have sacrified the flesh of our bodies and our children. Ja’afar said, I put out my hand and I ate until I was satisfied, while he was presenting me with his hand the delicate morsels and taking pleasure in entertaining me. When we had finished they brought the ewer and basin, we washed our hands and we passed into the drinking room where he told the damsel to sing. She took up her lute, tuned it, and holding it against her breast she began:—
A visitor of whom the sight is venerated by all, sweeter than either spirit or hope:
He spreads the darkness of his hair over the morning dawn and the dawn of shame appeared not;
And when my lot would kill me I asked his protection, his arrival revived a soul that death reclaimed:
I’ve become the slave of the Prince of the Lovers and the dominion of love was of my making.
The Rawi says that Ja’afar was moved with exceeding joy, as was also the youth, but he did not fail to be fearful on account of his affair with the Caliph, so that it showed itself in his countenance, and this anxiety was apparent to the youth who knew that he was anxious, frightened, dreaming and uncertain. Ja’afar perceived that the youth was ashamed to question him on his position and the cause of his condition, but the youth said to him, O my lord, listen to what the Sages have said:—
Worry not thyself for things that are to come, drive away your cares by the intoxicating bowl:
See you not that hands have painted beautiful flowers on the robes of drink?
Spoils of the vine-branch, lilies and narcissus, and the violet and the striped flower of N’uman:
If troubles overtake you, lull them to sleep with liquors and flowers and favourites.
Then said he to Ja’afar, Contract not thy breast, and to the damsel, Sing; and she sang, and Ja’afar who was delighted with her songs, said Let us not cease our enjoyment, now in conversation, now in song until the day closes and night comes with darkness.
The youth ordered the servants to bring up the horses and they presented to his guest a mare fit for Kings. We mounted (said Ja’afar), and, entering Damascus, I proceeded to look at the bazars and the streets until we came to a large square in the middle of which were two mastabas or stone benches before a high doorway brilliantly illuminated with divers lights, and before a portiPre was suspended a lamp by a golden chain. There were lofty domes surrounded by beautiful statues, and containing various kinds of birds and abundance of flowing water, and in their midst was a hall with windows of silver. He opened it and found it looking upon a garden like that of Paradise animated by the songs of the birds and the perfumes of the flowers and the ripple of the brooks. The house, wherein were fountains and birds warbling their songs understood in every language, was carpeted with silken rugs and furnished with cushions of Dibaj-brocade. It contained also in great number costly articles of every kind, it was perfumed with the odours of flowers and fruits and it contained every other imaginable thing, plates and dishes of silver and gold, drinking vessels, and a censer for ambergris, powder of aloes and every sort of dried fruits. Brief, it was a house like that described by the poet:—
Society became perfectly brilliant in its beauty and shone in the eclat of its magnificience.
Ja’afar said, When I sat down the youth came to me and asked, From what country art thou? I replied, From Basora, soldier by profession, commandant over a company of men and I used to pay a quit-rent to the Caliph. I became afraid of him for my life and I came away fleeing with downcast face for dread of him, and I never ceased wandering about the country and in the deserts until Destiny has brought me to thee. The youth said, A blessed arrival, and what may be thy name? I replied, My name is like thine own. On hearing my words he smiled, and said, laughing, O my lord, Abu ‘l-Hasan, carry no trouble in your heart nor contraction of your breast; then he ordered a service and they set for us a table with all kinds of delicacies and we ate until satisfied. After this they took away the table and brought again the ewer and basin and we washed our hands and then went to the drinking room where there was a pleasaunce filled with fruits and flowers in perfection. Then he spoke to the damsel for music and she sang, enchanting both Ja’afar and the youth with delight at her performances, and the place itself was agitated, and Ja’afar in the excess of his joy took off his robes and tore them. Then the youth said to him, Wallahy, may the tearing be the effect of the pleasure and not of sorrow and waywardness, and may God disperse far from you the bitterness of your enemies. Then he went to a chest (continued Ja’afar) and took out from it a complete dress, worth a hundred dinars and putting it upon me said to the damsel, Change the tune of thy lute. She did so, and sang the following verses:—
My jealous regard is attached to him and if he regard another I am impatient:
I terminate my demand and my song, crying, Thy friendship will last until death in my heart.
The Rawi said: When she had finished her poetry Ja’afar threw off the last dress and cried out, and the youth said, May God ameliorate your life and make its beginning the end. Then he went to the chest and took out a dress better than the first and put it upon Ja’afar and the damsel was silent for an hour during the conversation. The youth said, Listen, O my lord Abu ‘l-Hasan, to what people of merit have said of this valley formerly called the Valley of Rabwat in which we now are and spoken of in the poem, saying:—
O bounty of our Night in the valley of Rabwat where the gentle zephyr brings in her perfumes:
It is a valley whose beauty is like that of the necklace: trees and flowers encompass it.
Its fields are carpeted with every variety of flowers and the birds fly around above them;
When the trees saw us seated beneath them they dropped upon us their fruits.
We continued to exchange upon the borders of its gardens the flowing bowls of conversation and of poesy,
The valley was bountiful and her zephyrs brought to us what the flowers had sent to us.
So when the youth had finished his recitation he turned to the damsel and told her to sing:—
I consume (with desire) when I hear from him a discourse whose sweetness is a melting speech:
My heart palpitates when he sees it, it is not wonderful that the drunken one should dance:
It has on this earth become my portion, but on this earth I have no chance to obtain it.
O Lord! tell me the fault that I’ve committed, perhaps I may be able to correct it.
I find in thee a heart harder than that of others and the hearts consume my being.
Now when she had finished, Ja’afar in his joy threw off the third dress. The youth arose, kissed him on the head, and then took out for him another suit and put it upon him, for he was the most generous man of his time. Then he enteretained Ja’afar with the news of the day and of the subjects and anecdotes of the great pieces of poetry and said to him, O my lord, load not thyself with cares. The Rawi says that they continued living in the same way for forty days and on the forty-first Ja’afar said to the young man, Know, O my lord, that I have left my country neither for eating nor for drinking, but to divert myself and to see the world; but if God vouchsafe my return to my country to talk to my people, my neighbours and frieds, and they ask me where I have been and what I have seen, I will tell them of your generosity and of the great benefactions that you have heaped upon me in your country of Damascus. I will say that I have sighted this and that, and thus I will entertain them with what I have espied in Damascus and of its order. The young man replied, Thou sayest true: and Ja’afar said, I desire to go out and visit the city, its bazars and its streets, to which the young man answered, With love and good will, to-morrow morning if it please Allah. That night Ja’afar slept there and when God brought the day, he rose, went in to the young man, wished him good morning and said to him, O my lord, thy promise! to which he replied, With love and good will; and, ordering a white dress for him, he handed him a purse of three hundred dinars saying, Bestow this in charity and return quick after thou hast made thy visit, and lastly said to his servants, Bring to your lord a horse to ride. But Ja’afar answered, I do not wish to have one, for a rider cannot observe the people but the people observe him. The young man, who was named Attaf, said, O my lord, be it as thou wishest and desirest; be not away long on my account for thine absence gives me pain. Then he gave to Ja’afar a grain of red musk saying, Take this and keep it in thy hand and if thou go into any place where there is a bad odour thou wilt take a smell of the musk. Ja’afar the Barmeky (Allah be merciful to him!) said, After that I left him and set out to walk in the streets and quarters of Damascus and went on until I came to the Most of the ‘Omeyyades where I saw a fountain casting the water from its upper part and falling like serpents in their flight. I sat down under the pulpit; and as it was a Friday I heard the preacher and made my Friday prayer and remained until I made the afternoon prayer when I went to distribute the money I had, after which I recited these verses:—
I see the beauties united in the mosk of Jullag, and around her the meaning of beauty is explained;
If people converse in the mosks tell them their entrance door is open.
Then I left the mosk and began to promenade the quarters and the streets until I came before a splendid house, broad in its richness and strong in its build, having a border of gold astonishing the mind by the beauty of the work, showing curtains of silk embroidered with gold and in front of the door were two carpeted steps. I sat down upon one of them and began to think of myself and of the events that had happened to me and of my ignorance of what had taken place after my departure. In the midst of my sadness at the contemplation of my troubles (and the wind blowing upon me) I fell asleep and I awaked not until a sprinkling of water came down upon me. On opening my eyes I saw a young woman behind the curtain dressed in a morning gown and a Sa’údí fillet upon her forehead. Her look and eyelids were full of art and her eyebrows were like the fronts of the wings of light. The Rawi says she resembled a full moon. When my eyes fell upon her (continued Ja’afar) and looked at her, that look brought with it a thousand sighs and I arose and my disposition was changed. The young woman cried at me and I said, I am your servant, O my lady, and here at thy command, but said she, No labbayka and no favour for thee! Is this house thine? Said I, No my lady, and she replied, O dog of the streets, this house is not thine, why art thou sitting here? When Ja’afar heard this he was greatly mortified, but he took courage and dissimulated, answering, O my lady, I am resting here only to recite some verses which I have composed for thee, then she asked, And what hast thou said about me? He continued:—
She appeared in a whitish robe with eyelids and glances of wonder,
I said she came out without greeting, with her I’m content to my heart’s content.
Blessed be He that clothed thy cheeks with roses, He can create what He wills without hindrance.
Thy dress like thy lot is as my hand, white, and they are white upon white upon my white.
When he had finished these verses he said, I have composed others on thine expression, and recited the following:—
Dost thou see through her veil that face appearing how it shines, like the moon in the horizon?
Its splendour enlightens the shade of her temples and the sun enters into obscurity by system;
Her forehead eclipses the rose and the apple, and her look and expression enchant the people;
It is she that if mortal should see her he’d become victim of love, of the fires of desire.
On hearing this recitation the young lady said to Ja’afar, Miserable fellow, what is this discourse which does not belong to the like of thee? Get up and begone with the malediction of Allah and the protection of Satan. Ja’afar arose, seized with a mighty rage in addition to his love; and in this love for her he departed and returned to the house of his friend Attaf and saluted him with a prepossessed heart. As soon as Attaf saw him he cast himself on his breast and kissed him between the eyes, saying to him, O my lord, thou hast made me feel desolate to-day by thine absence. Then Attaf, looking in the face of Ja’afar and reading in it many words, continued to him, O my lord, I find thy countenance changed and thy mind broken. Ja’afar answered, O my lord, since I left thee up to the present time I have been suffering with a headache and a nervous attack for I was sleeping upon my ear. The people in the mosk recited the afternoon prayer without my knowing it, and now I have a mind to get an hour’s sleep, probably I shall find repose for the body, and what I suffer will pass off. Accordingly, Attaf went into the house and ordered cushions to be brought out and a bed to be made for him. Ja’afar then stretched himself upon it depressed and out of spirits, and covering himself up began to think of the young lady and of the offensive words she gave him so contrary to usage. Also he thoguht of her beauty and the elegance of her stature and perfect proportions and of what Allah (to whom be praise!) had granted her of magnificence. He forgot all that happened to him in other days and also his affair with the Caliph and his people and his friends and his society. Such was the burden of his thoughts until he was taken with monomania and his body wasted. Hereupon Attaf sent for doctors, they surrounded him constantly, they employed all their talents for him, but they could find no remedy. So he remained during a certain time without anyone being able to discover what was the matter with him. The breast of Attaf became straitened, he renounced all diversions and pleasures, and Ja’afar getting worse and worse, his trouble augmented. One day a new doctor arrived, a man of experience in the art of gallantry, whose name was Dabdihkán. When he came to Ja’afar and looked at his face and felt his pulse and found everything in its place, no suffering, no pain, he comprehended that he was in love, so he took a paper and wrote a prescription and placed it beneath Ja’afar’s head. He then said, Thy remedy is under thy head, I’ve prescribed a purge, if thou take it thou wilt get well, for he was ashamed to tell Attaf his love-sick condition. Presently, the Doctor went away to other patients and Attaf arose and when about entering to see Ja’afar he heard him recite the following verses:—
A doctor came to me one day and took my hand and pulse, when I said to him Let go my hand, the fire’s in my heart.
He said, Drink syrup of the rose and mix it well with water of the tongue but tell it not to anyone:
I said, The syrup of the rose is quite well known to me; it is the water of the cheek that breaks my very heart;
But can it be that I can get the water of the tongue that I may cool the burning fire that within me dwells?
The doctor said, Thou art in love, I said Yes to him, and said he to me, Its remedy is to have the body here.
Then when Attaf went in to him after the end of the recitation he sat down at the head of the bed and asked him about his condition and what had been perscribed for him by the Hakím. Ja’afar said, O my lord, he wrote for me a paper which is under the pillow. Attaf put out his hand, took the paper and read it and found upon it written:—“In the name of God the Curer — To be taken, with the aid and blessing of God, 3 miskals of pure presence of the beloved unmixed with morsels of absence and fear of being watched: plus, 3 miskals of a good meeting cleared of any grain of abandonment and rupture: plus, 2 okes of pure friendship and discretion deprived of the wood of separation. Then take some extract of the incense of the kiss, the teeth and the waist, 2 miskals of each; also take 100 kisses of pomegranate rubbed and rounded, of which 50 small ones are to be sugared, 30 pigeon-fashion and 20 after the fashion of little birds. Take of Aleppine twist and sigh of Al-Iráq 2 miskals each; also 2 okes of tongue-sucking, mouth and lip kissing, all to be pounded and mixed. Then put upon a furnace 3 drams of Egyptian grain with the addition of the beautiful fold of plumpness, boil it in love-water and syrup of desire over a fire of wood of pleasure in the retreat of the ardour. Decant the whole upon a royal díbáqy divan and add to it 2 okes of saliva syrup and drink it fasting during 3 days. Next take for dinner the melon of desire mixed with embrace-almond and juice of the lemon of concord, and lastly 3 rolls of thigh-work and enter the bath for the benefit of your health. And — The Peace!” When Attaf had finished reading of this paper he burst into a laugh at the prescription and, turning to Ja’afar, he asked him with whom he was in love and of whom he was enamoured. Ja’afar gave no answer, he spoke not neither did he commence any discourse, when Attaf said, O my brother, thou are not my friend, but thou art in my house esteemed as is the soul in the body. Between me and thee there has been for the last four months friendship, company, companionship and conversation. Why then conceal thy situation? For me, I have fear and sorrow on thine account. Thou art a stranger, thou art not of this capital. I am a son of this city, I can dispel what thou hast (of trouble) and that of which thou sufferest. By my life, which belongs to you, by the bread and salt between us, reveal to me thy secret. And Attaf did not cease to speak thus until Ja’afar yielded and said to him, It shall no longer be concealed, and I will not blame those who are in love and are impatient. Then he told his story from beginning to end, what was said to him by the young lady and what she did with him and lastly he described the quarter and the place. Now when Attaf heard the words of Ja’afar he reflected on the description of the house and of the young lady and concluded that the house was his house and the young lady was his cousin-wife, and said to himself, There is no power nor strength but in Allah the High, the Great. We are from God and to Him we return. Then he came to his mind again and to the generosity of his soul and said to himself, O Attaf! God hath favored me and hath made me worthy of doing good and hath sent to me I know not whence this stranger who hath become bound in friendship with me during all this time and he hath acquired over me the ties of friendship. His heart hath become attached to the young woman and his love for her hath reached in him an imminent point. Since that time he is almost on the verge of annihilation, in so pitiable a condition and behold, he hopeth from me a good issue from his trouble. He hath made known to me his situation after having concealed it for so long a time: if I do not befriend him in his misfortune I should resemble him who would build upon water and thus would aid him to annihilate his existence. By the magnanimity of my God, I will further him with my property and with my soul. I will divorce my cousin and will marry her to him and I will not change my character, my generosity nor my resolution. The Rawi says, that young woman was his wife and his cousin, also a second wife as he was previously married to another, and she occupied the house, his own house containing all that he possessed of property and so forth, servants, odalisques and slaves. There was also his other house which was for his guests, for drinking and eating and to receive his friends and his company. Of this, however, he said nothing to his cousin-wife when he came to see her at certain times. When he heard that Ja’afar was in love with her he could not keep from saying to him, Be quiet, I take upon myself to dispel thy chagrin, and soon I shall have news of her, and if she is the daughter of the NaVb of Damascus I will take the proper steps for thee even though I should lose all my property; and if she is a slave-girl I will buy her for thee even were her price such as to take all I possess. Thus he calmed the anguish of Ja’afar the best way he could; then he went out from his own house and entered that of his cousin-wife without making any change in his habits or saying a single word save to his servants, Go to my uncle’s and bring him to me. The boy then went for the uncle and brought him to Attaf, and when the uncle entered the nephew arose to receive him, embraced him and made him be seated, and, after he had been seated awhile, Attaf came to him and said, O my uncle! there is naught but good! Know that when God wills good to his servitor he shows to him the way and my heart inclines to Meccah, to the house of God, to visit the tomb of Mohammed (for whom be the most noble of prayers and the most complete of salutations!). I have decided to visit those places this year and I cannot leave behind me either attachments or debts or obligations; nothing in fact that can disturb the mind, for no one can know who will be the friend of the morrow. Here, then, is the writ of divorce of thy daughter and of my other wife. Now when his uncle heard that, he was troubled and exaggerating to himself the matter, he said, O son of my brother, what is it that impels thee to this? If thou depart and leave her and be absent as long as thou willest she is yet thy wife and thy dependent which is sufficient. But Attaf said, O my uncle, what hath been done is done. As soon as the young wife heard that, the abomination of desolation overcame her, she became as one in mourning and was upon the point of killing herself, because she loved her husband by reason of his relationship and his education. But this was done by Attaf only to please Ja’afar, and for that he was incited by his duty to do good to his fellow beings. Then Attaf left the house and said to himself, If I delay this matter it will be bruited abroad, and will come to the ears of my friend who will be afflicted and will be ashamed to marry, and what I have done will come to naught. The divorce of Attaf’s second spouse was only out of regard to his cousin-wife, and that there might not be an impediment to the success of his project. Then Attaf proceeded to his guesthouse and went in to Ja’afar, who when he saw him, asked where he had been. Attaf replied, Make yourself easy, O my brother, I am now occupied with your affair, I have sought out the young lady and I know her. She is divorced from her husband and her ‘iddah is not yet expired, so expand your breast and gladden your soul, for when her obligatory term of waiting shall be accomplished I will marry her to you. And Attaf ceased not to diver him by eating and drinking, amusements and shows, song and songstress until he knew that the ‘iddah of his cousin had ended; then he went to Ja’afar and said to him, Know, O my lord, that the father of the young woman thou sawest is one of my friends, and if I betroth her that would not be proper on my part and he will say: My friend hath not done well in betrothing my daughter to a man who is a stranger and whom I know not. He will take her and carry her to his own country and we shall be separated. Now I have an idea that has occurred to me, and ’tis to send out for you a tent with ten mamelukes and four servants upon horses and mules, baggage, stuffs, chests of dresses, and horses and gilded vehicles. Everything I have mentioned will be placed outside the city that no one shall know of thee, and I will say that thou art Ja’afar the Barmeky the Caliph’s Wazir. I will go to the Kady and the Wali and the NaVb and I will inform them of thee (as Ja’afar); so will they come out to meet and salute thee. Then thou wilt salute them and tell them that thou hast come on business of the Caliph. Thou must also say thou hast heard that Damascus is a very fine city and a hospitable, and add, I will go in to visit it and if it prove favourable to me I will remain and marry to establish between myself and its inhabitants relationship and friendship, and I would like you to seek for me a man of high position and noble origin who hath a beautiful cousin that I may marry. Attaf then said to Ja’afar, O my lord, we know one who hath a daughter of noble origin, that man is such-and-such an one, ask her of him for betrothal and say to him, Here is her dowry, which is all that thou hast in the chests. Then produce a purse of a thousand dinars and distribute them among those present, and display the characteristic of the Barmekys, and take out a piece of silken stuff and order them to draw up the marriage contract immediately. If they sign it, declare to them that thou wilt not enter the city because thou art pressed and thy bride will come to thee. Should thou do thus, thou wilt accomplish what thou desirest, God willing, then leave instantly and order that the tents be struck, the camels loaded, and set out for thine own country in peace. Know that all I shall do for you is little for the rights of friendship and devotedness. Ja’afar sprang up to kiss the hand of Attaf, but was prevented, then he thanked him and praised him and passed the night with him. The next morning at break of day he arose, made his ablutions, and having recited his morning prayer, accompanied his host to the outside of the city. Attaf ordered a great tent to be pitched and that everything necessary should be carried to it; of horses, camels, mules, slaves, mamelukes, chests containing all kinds of articles for distribution, and boxes holding purses of gold and silver. He dressed his guest in a robe worthy of a Wazir, and set up for him a throne and sent some slaves to the NaVb of Damascus to announce the arrival of Ja’afar on business of the Caliph. As soon as the NaVb of Damascus was informed of that, he went out accompanied by the notables of the city and of his government and met the Wazir Ja’afar, and kissing the ground between his hands, said to him, O my lord, why didst thou not inform me sooner in order that we might be prepared for thine arrival. Ja’afar said, That was not necessary, may God augment thy wealth, I have not come but with the intention to visit this city; I desire to stay in it for some time and I would also marry in it. I have learned that the Amír ‘Amr has a daughter of noble descent, I wish thou wouldst cause her to be brought before thee and that thou betroth her to me. The NaVb of Damascus said, Hearing is obeying. Her husband hath divorced her and desireth to go to al-Hejaz on the pilgrimage, and after her ‘iddah hath expired and there remaineth not any impediment the betrothal can take place. At the proper time the NaVb of Damascus caused to be present the father of the lady and spoke to him of what the Wazir Ja’afar had said and that he should betroth his daughter, so that there was nothing more for the father to say than, I hear and I obey. The Rawi says that Ja’afar ordered to be brought the dress of honour and the gold from the purses to be thrown out for distribution and commanded the presence of the Kady and witnesses; and, when they arrived, he bade them write the marriage contract. Then he brought forward and presented the ten chests and the ten purses of gold, the dowry of the bride, and all those present, high and low, and rich and poor gave him their best wishes and congratulations. After the father of the lady had taken the dowry he ordered the Kady to draw up the contract and presented to him a piece of satin; he also called for sugar-water to drink and set before them the table of viands, and they ate and washed their hands. Afterwards they served sweet dishes and fruits; and when that was finished and the contract passed, the NaVb of Damascus said to the Wazir, O my lord, I will prepare a house for thy residence and for the reception of thy wife. Ja’afar said, That cannot be; I am here on a commission of the Commander of the Faithful, and I wish to take my wife with me to Baghdad and only there can I have the bridal ceremonies. The father of the lady said, Enter unto thy bride and depart when thou wilt. Ja’afar replied, I cannot do that, but I wish thee to make up the trousseau of thy daughter and have it ready so as to depart this very day. We only wait, said the father of the bride, for the NaVb of Damascus to retire, to do what the Wazir commands. He answered, With love and good will; and the lady’s father set about getting together the trousseau and making her ready. He took her out and got her trousseau, mounted her upon a Hodaj, and when she arrived at Ja’afar’s camp her people made their adieus and departed. When Ja’afar had ridden to some distance from Damascus and had arrived at Tiniat el ‘Iqáb he looked behind him and perceived in the distance in the direction of Damascus a horseman galloping towards him; so he stopped his attendants and when the rider had come near them Ja’afar looked at him and behold it was Attaf. He had come out after him and cried, Hasten not, O my brother. And when he came up he embraced him and said, O my lord, I have found no rest without thee, O my brother Abu ‘l-Hasan, it would have been better for me never to have seen thee nor known thee, for now I cannot support thine absence. Ja’afar thanked him and said to him, I have not been able to act against what thou hast prescribed for me and provided, but we pray God to bring near our reunion and never more separate us. He is Almighty to do what He willeth. After that Ja’afar dismounted and spread a silken carpet and they sat down together, and Attaf laid a tablecloth with duck, chicken, sweets and other delicacies, of which they ate and he brought out dry fruits and wine. They drank for an hour of the day when they remounted their horses and Attaf accompanied Ja’afar a way on the journey, when Ja’afar said to him, Every departer must return, and he pressed him to his breast and kissed him and said to him, O my brother Abu ‘l-Hasan, do not interrupt the sending of thy letters; but make known to me about thyself, and thy condition as if I were present with thee. Then they bade each other adieu and each went on his way. When the young wife noticed that the camels had stopped on their march as well as their people, she put out her head from the Hodaj and saw her cousin dismounting with Ja’afar and they eating and drinking together and then in company to the end of the road where they bade adieu exchanging a recitation of poetry. So she said, The one, Wallahy, is my cousin Attaf and the other the man whom I saw seated under the window, and upon whom I sprinkled the water. Doubtless he is the friend of my cousin. He hath been seized with love for me, and complaining to my cousin, hath given him a description of me and of my house; and the devotedness of his character and the greatness of his soul must have impelled him to divorce me and to take steps to marry me to that man. The Rawi says that Attaf in bidding good-bye to Ja’afar left him joyful in the possession of the young lady for whom he was on the point of ruin by his love, and in having made the friendship of Attaf whom he intended to reward in gratitude for what he had done by him. So glad was he to have the young wife that everything that had taken place with Er-Rashid had passed out of his mind. In the meanwhile she was crying and lamenting over what had happened to her, her separation from her cousin and from her parents and her country, and bemoaning what she did and what she had been; and her scalding tears flowed while she recited these verses:—
I weep for these places and these beauties; blame not the lover if some day he’s insane:
For the places the dear ones inhabit. O praise be to God! how sweet is their dwelling!
God protect the past days while with you, my dear friends, and in the same house may happiness join us!
On finishing this recitation she wept and lamented and recited again:—
I’m astonished at living without you at the troubles that come upon us:
I wish for you, dear absent ones, my wounded heart is still with you.
Then, still crying and lamenting, she went on:—
O you to whom I gave my soul, return; from you I wish’d to pluck it, but could not succeed:
Then pity the rest of a life that I’ve sacrificed for thee, before the hour of death my last look I will take:
If all of thee be lost astonished I’ll not be; my astonishment would be that his lot will be to another.
Presently the Wazir Ja’afar coming up to the Hodaj said to the young wife, O mistress of the Hodaj, thou hast killed us. When she heard this address she called to him with dejection and humility, We ought not to talk to thee for I am the cousin-wife of thy friend and companion Attaf, prince of generosity and devotion. If there be in thee any feeling of the self-denial of a man thou wilt do for him that which, in his devotion, he hath done for thee. When Ja’afar heard these words he became troubled and taking in the magnitude of the situation he said to the young lady, O thou! thou art then his cousin-wife? and said she, Yes! it is I whom thou sawest on such a day when this and that took place and thy heart attached itself to me. Thou hast told him all that. He divorced me, and while waiting for the expiration of my ‘iddah diverted thee that such and such was the cause of all my trouble. Now I have explained to thee my situation: do thou the action of a man. When Ja’afar heard these words he uttered a loud cry and said, We are from God and to Him we return. O thou! thou art now to me an interdiction and hast become a sacred deposit until thy return to where it may please thee. Then said Ja’afar to a servant, Take good care of thy mistress. After which they set foward and travelled on day and night. Now Er-Rashid, after the departure of Ja’afar, became uneasy and sorrowful at his absence. He lost patience and was tormented with a great desire to see him again, while he regretted the conditions he had imposed as impossible to be complied with and obliging him to the extremity of tramping about the country like a vagabond, and forcing him to abandon his native land. He had sent envoys after him to search for him in every place, but he had never received any news of him, and was cast into great embarrassment by reason of his absence. He was always waiting to hear of him, and when Ja’afar had approached Baghdad and he, Er-Rashid, had received the good tidings of his coming, he went forth to meet him, and as soon as they came together they embraced each other, and the Caliph became content and joyful. They entered together into the palace and the Prince of True Believers seating Ja’afar at his side, said to him, Relate to me thy story where thou hast been during thine absence and what thou hast come upon. So Ja’afar told him then all that had happened from the time he left him until the moment of finding himself between his hands. Er-Rashid was greatly astonished and said, Wallahy, thou hast made me sorrowful for thine absence, and hast inspired me with great desire to see thy friend. My opinion is that thou divorce this young lady and put her on the road homeward accompanied by someone in whom thou hast confidence. If thy friend have an enemy he shall be our enemy, and if he have a friend he also shall be ours; after which we will make him come to us, and we shall see him and have the pleasure of hearing him and pass the time with him in joy. Such a man must not be neglected, we shall learn, by his generosity, bounty and useful things. Ja’afar answered, To hear is obedience. Then Ja’afar apportioned to the young lady a spacious house and servants and a handsome enclosure; and he treated with generosity those who had come with her as suite and followers. He also sent to her sets of furniture, mattresses and every thing else she might need, while he never intruded upon her and never saw her. He sent her his salutation and reassuring words that she should be returned to her cousin; and he made her a monthly allowance of a tousand dinars, besides the cost of her living. So far as to Ja’afar; but as to Attaf, when he had bidden adieu to Ja’afar and had returned to his country, those who were jealous of him took steps to ruin him with the NaVb of Damascus, to whom they said, O our lord, what is it that hath made thee neglect Attaf? Dost thou not know that the Wazir was his friend and that he went out after him to bid him adieu after our people had returned, and accompanied him as far as Katifa, when Ja’afar said to him, Hast thou need of anything O Attaf? he said Yes. Of what? asked the Wazir, and he answered, That thou send me an imperial rescript removing the NaVb of Damascus. Now this was promised to him, and the most prudent thing is that thou invite him to breakfast before he takes you to supper; success is in the opportunity and the assaulted profiteth by the assaulter. The NaVb of Damascus replied, Thou has spoken well, bring him to me immediately. The NaVb of Damascus replied, Thou hast spoken well, bring him to me immediately. The Rawi says that Attaf was in his own house, ignorant that anyone owed him grudge, when suddenly in the night he was surrounded and seized by the people of the NaVb of Damascus armed with swords and clubs. They beat him until he was covered with blood, and they dragged him along until they set him in presence of the Pasha of Damascus who ordered the pillage of his house and of his slaves and his servants and all his property and they took everything, his family and his domestics and his goods. Attaf asked, What is my crime? and he answered, O scoundrel, thou art an ignorant fellow of the rabble, dost dispute with the NaVbat of Damascus? Then the Swordman was ordered to strike his neck, and the man came forward and, cutting off a piece of his robe, with it blindfolded his eyes, and was about to strike his neck when one of the Emírs arose and said, Be not hasty, O my lord, but wait, for haste is the whisper of Satan, and the proverb saith: Man gaineth his ends by patience, and error accompanieth the hasty man. Then he continued, Do not press the matter of this man; perhaps he who hath spoken of him lieth and there is nobody without jealousy; so have patience, for thou mayest have to regret the taking of his life unjustly. Do not rest easy upon what may come to thee on the part of the Wazir Ja’afar, and if he learn what thou hast done by this man be not sure of thy life on his part. He will admit of no excuse for he was his friend and companion. When the NaVb of Damascus heard that he awoke from his slumber and conformed to the words of the Emir. He ordered that Attaf should be put in prison, enchained and with a padlock upon his neck, and bade them, after severely tightening the bonds, illtreat him. They dragged him out, listening neither to his prayers nor his supplications; and he cried every night, doing penance to God and praying to Him for deliverance from his affliction and his misfortune. In that condition he remained for three months. But one night as he woke up he humiliated himself before God and walked about his prison, where he saw no one; then, looking before him, he espied an opening leading from the prison to the outside of the city. He tried himself against his chain and succeeded in opening it; then, taking it from his neck, he went out from the gaol running at full speed. He concealed himself in a place, and darkness protected him until the opening of the city gate, when he went out with the people and hastening his march he arrived at Aleppo and entered the great mosk. There he saw a crod of strangers on the point of departure and Attaf asked them whither they were going, and they answered, To Baghdad. Whereupon he cried, And I with you. They said, Upon the earth is our weight, but upon Allah is our nourishment. Then they went on their march until they arrived at Koufa after a travel of twenty days, and then continued journeying till they came to Baghdad. Here Attaf saw a city of strong buildings, and very rich in elegant palaces reaching to the clouds, a city containing the learned and the ignorant, and the poor and the rich, and the virtuous and the evil doer. He entered the city in a miserable dress, rags upon his shoulders, and upon his head a dirty, conical cap, and his hair had become long and hanging over his eyes and his entire condition was most wretched. He entered one of the mosks. For two days he had not eaten. He sat down, when a vagabond entered the mosk and seating himself in front of Attaf threw off from his shoulder a bag from which he took out bread and a chicken, and bread again and sweets and an orange, and olive and date-cake and cucumbers. Attaf looked at the man and at his eating, which was as the table of ‘Isa son of Miriam (upon whom be peace!). For four months he had not had a sufficient meal and he said to himself, I would like to have a mouthful of this good cheer and a piece of this bread, and then cried for very hunger. The fellow looked at him and said, Bravo! why dost thou squint and do what strangers do? By the protection of God, if you weep tears enough to fill the Jaxartes and the Bactrus and the Dajlah and the Euphrates and the river of Basrah and the stream of Antioch and the Orontees and the Nile of Egypt and the Salt Sea and the ebb and the flow of the Ocean, I will not let thee taste a morsel. But, said the buffoon, if thou wish to eat of chicken and white bread and lamb and sweets and mutton patties, go thou to the house of Ja’afar son of Yahya the Barmeky, who hath received hospitality from a Damascus man named Attaf. He bestoweth charity in honour of him in this manner, and he neither getteth up nor sitteth down without speaking of him. Now when Attaf heard these words from the buffoon he looked up to heaven and said, O Thou whose attributes are inscrutable, bestow thy benefits upon thy servant Attaf. Then he recited this couplet:—
Confide thy affairs to thy Creator; set aside thy pains and dismiss thy thoughts.
Then Attaf went to a paper-seller and got from him a piece of paper and borrowed an inkstand and wrote as follows:— From thy brother Attaf whom God knoweth. Let him who hath possessed the world not flatter himself, he will some day be cast down and will lose it in his bitter fate. If thou see me thou wilt not recognise me for my poverty and my misery; and, because of the change in situation and the reverses of the times, my soul and body are reduced by hunger, by the long journey I have made, until at last I have come to thee. And peace be with thee. Then he folded the paper and returning the pencase to its owner asked for the house of Ja’afar, and when it was shown to him he went there and stood at a distance before it. The doorkeepers saw him standing, neither commencing nor repeating a word, and nobody spoke to him, but as he was thus standing embarassed, an eunuch dressed in a striped robe and golden belt passed by him. Attaf remained, motionless before him, then went up to him, kissed his hands and said to him, O my lord, the Apostle of Allah (upon whom be peace and salutation) hath said, The medium of a good deed is like him who did it, and he who did it belongeth to the dwellers in heaven. The man said to him, What is thy need? and said he, I desire of thy goodness to send in this paper to thy lord and say to him, Thy brother Attaf is standing at the door. When the servant heard his words he got into a great and excessive rage so that his eyes swelled in his head and he asked, O cursed one, thou art then the brother of the Wazir Ja’afar! and as he had in his hand a rod with a golden end, he struck Attaf with it in the face and his blood flowed and he fell full length to the ground in his weakness from weeping and from receiving the blow. The Rawi says that God hath placed the instinct of good in the heart of some domestics, even as he hath placed that of evil in the heart of others. Another of the domestics was raised up against his companion by good will to Attaf and reproved him for striking the stranger and was answered, Didst thou not hear, O brother, that he pretended to be the brother of the Wazir Ja’afar? and the second one said, O man of evil, son of evil, slave of evil, O cursed one, O hog! is Ja’afar one of the prophets? is he not a dog of the earth like ourselves? Men are all brethren, of one father and one mother, of Adam and of Eve; and the poet hath said:—
Men by comparison all are brethren, their father is Adam their mother is Eve;
but certain people are preferable to others. Then he came up to Attaf and made him be seated and wiped off the blood from his face and washed him and shook off the dust that was upon him and said, O my brother, what is thy need? and said he, My need is the sending of this paper to Ja’afar. The servant took the paper from his hand and going in to Ja’afar the Barmeky found there the officers of the Governor and the Barmekys standing at his service on his right and on his left; and Ja’afar the Wazir who held in his hand a cup of wine was reciting poetry and playing and saying, O you all here assembled, the absent from the eye is not like the present in the heart; he is my brother and my friend and my benefactor, Attaf of Damascus, who was continuous in his generosity and his bounty and his benfactions to me; who for me divorced his cousin-wife and gave her to me. He made me presents of horses and slaves and damsels and stuffs in quantities that I might furnish her dower; and, if he had not acted thus, I should certainly have been ruined. He was my benefactor without knowing who I was, and generous to me without any idea of profiting by it. The Rawi says that when the good servant heard these words from his lord he rejoiced and coming forward he kneeled down before him and presented the paper. When Ja’afar read it he was in a state of intoxication and not being able to discern what he was doing he fell on his face to the floor while holding the paper and the glass in his hand, and he was wounded in the forehead so his blood ran and he fainted and the paper fell from his grasp. When the servant saw that he hastened to depart fearing the consequence; and the Wazir Ja’afar’s friends seated their lord and staunched the blood. They exclaimed, There is no power and strength but in God the High, the Mighty. Such is the character of servants; they trouble the life of kings in their pleasures and annoy them in their humours: Wallahy, the writer of this paper merits nothing less than to be handed over to the Wali who shall give him five hundred lashes and put him in prison. Thereupon the Wazir’s doorkeeper went out and asked for the owner of the paper, when Attaf answered, ’Tis I, O my lord. Then they seized him and sent him to the Wali and ordered him to give one hundred blows of the stick to the prisoner and to write upon his chain “for life.” Thus they did with Attaf and carried him to the prison where he remained for two months when a child was born to Harun er-Rashid, who then ordered that alms should be distributed, and good done to all, and bade liberate all that were in prison and among those that were set free was Attaf. When he found himself out of gaol, beaten and famished and naked, he looked up to heaven and exclaimed, Thanks be to thee, O Lord, in every situation, and crying said, It must be for some fault committed by me in the past, for God had taken me into favour and I have said repaid Him in disobedience; but I pray to Him for pardon for having gone too far in my debauchery. Then he recited these verses:—
O God! the worshipper doth what he should not do; he is poor, depending on Thee:
In the pleasures of life he forgetteth himself, in his ignorance, pardon Thou his faults.
Then he cried again and said to himself, What shall I do? If I set out for my country I may not reach it; if I arrive there, there will be no safety for my life on teh part of the NaVb, and if I remain here nobody knoweth me among the beggars and I cannot be for them of any use nor for myself as an aid or an intermediate. As for me, I had hope in that man, that he would raise me from my poverty. The affair hath turned out contrary to my expectations, and the poet was right when he said:—
O friend, I’ve run o’er the world west and east; all that I met with was pain and fatigue:
I’ve frequented the men of the age, but never have found e’en a friend grateful not even to me.
Once more he cried and exclaimed, God give me the grace of patience. After that he got up and walked away, and entered one of the mosks and staid there until afternoon. His hunger increased and he said, By Thy magnanimity and Thy majesty I shall ask nothing of anyone but of Thee. He remained in the mosk until it became dark when he went out for something, saying to himself, I have heard a call from the Prophet (on whom be the blessing and peace of Allah!) which said, God forbiddeth sleep in the Sanctuary and forbiddeth it to His worshippers. Then he arose, and went out from the mosk to some distance when he entered a ruined building after walking an hour, and here he stumbled in the darkness and fell upon his face. He saw something before him that he had struck with his foot and felt it move, and this was a lad that had been slain and a knife was in his side. Attaf rose up from off the body, his clothes stained with blood; he stood motionless and embarrassed, and while in that situation the Wali and his policemen stood at the door of the ruin and Attaf said to them, Come in and search. They entered with their torches and found the body of the murdered lad and the knife in him and the miserable Attaf standing at the head with his clothes stained with blood. When a man with a scarf saw him he arrested him and said to him, O Wretch, ’tis thou killedst him. Attaf said, Yes. Then said the Wali, Pinion him and take him to prison until we make our report to the Wazir Ja’afar. If he orders his death we will execute him. They did as ordered, and the next day the man with the scarf wrote to the Wazir, We went into a ruin and found there a man who had killed a lad and we interrogated him and he confessed that it was he who had done the deed, what are thine orders? The Wazir commanded them to put him to death; so they took Attaf from the prison to the place of execution and cut off a piece of his garment and with it bandaged his eyes. The Sworder said, O my lord, shall I strike his neck? and the Wali said, Strike! He brandished the sword which whistled and glittered in the air and was about to strike, when a cry from behind, Stop thy hand! was heard, and it was the voice of the Wazir Ja’afar who was out on a promenade. The Wali went to him and kissed the earth before him and the Wazir said to him, What is this great gathering here? He answered, ’Tis the execution of a young man of Damascus whom we found yesterday in a ruin; he had killed a lad of noble blood and we found the knife with him and his clothes spotted with blood. When I said to him, Is it thou that killedst him? he replied Yes three times. To-day I sent to thee my written report and thine Excellency ordered his death, saying, Let the sentence of God be executed, and now I have brought him out that his neck may be struck. Ja’afar said, Oh, hath a man of Damascus come into our country to find himself in a bad condition? Wallahy, that shall never be! Then he ordered that he should be brought to him. The Wazir did not recognise him, for Attaf’s air of ease and comfort had disappeared; so Ja’afar said to him, From what country art thou, O young man, and he answered, I am a man from Damascus. From the city or from the villages? Wallahy, O my lord, from Damascus city where I was born. Ja’afar asked, Didst thou happen to known there a man named Attaf? I know when thou wast his friend and he lodged thee in such-and-such a house and thou wentest out to such-and-such a garden; and I know when thou didst marry his cousin-wife, I know when he bade adieu to thee at Katifa where thou drankest with him. Ja’afar said, Yes, all that is true, but what became of him after he left me? He said, O my Lord, there happened to him this and that and he related to him everything from the time he quitted him up to the moment of his standing before him and then recited these verses:—
This age, must it make me its victim, and thou at the same time art living: wolves are seeking to devour me while thou the lion art here.
Every thirsty one that cometh his thirst is quenched by thee: can it be that I thirst while thou art still our refuge?
When he had finished the verses he said, O my lord, I am Attaf, and then recalled all that had taken place between them from first to last. While he was thus speaking a great cry was heard, and it came from a Sheikh who was saying, This is not humanity. They looked at the speaker, who was an old man with trimmed beard dyed with henna, and upon him was a blue kerchief. When Ja’afar saw him he asked him what was the matter, and he exclaimed, Take away the young man from under the sword, for there is no fault in him: he hath killed no one nor doth he know anything of the dead youth. Nobody but myself is the killer. The Wazir said, Then ’tis thou that killed him? and he answered. Yes. — Why didst thou kill him? hast thou not the fear of God in killing a Hashimy child? The old man said, He was my servant, serving me in the house and working with me at my trade. Every day he took from me some quarter-pieces of money and went to work for another man called Shumooshag, and to work with Nagísh, and with Gasís, and with Ghúbar, and with Gushír, and every day working with someone. They were jealous of my having him. ‘Odis the sweeper and Abu Butrán the stoker, and everyone wanted to have him. In vain I corrected him, but he would not abide corrected and ceased not to do thus until I killed him in the ruin, and I have delivered myself from the torment he gave me. That is my story. I kept silent until I saw thee when I made myself known at the time thou savest the head of this young man from the sword. Here I am standing before you: strike my neck and take life for life. Pray do no harm to this young man, for he hath committed no fault. The Wazir said, Neither to thee nor to him. Then he ordered to be brought the parents of the dead lad and reconciled them with the old man, whom he pardoned. He mounted Attaf upon a horse and took him to his house; then he entered the palace of the Caliph and kissed the earth before him and said, Behold Attaf, he who was my host at Damascus, and of whom I have related his treatment of me and his kindness and generosity, and how he preferred me to himself. Er-Rashid said, Bring him in to me immediately. He presented him to the Caliph in the miserable state in which he had found him; and when he entered, he made his salutations in the best manner and with the most eloquent language. Er-Rashid answered and said to him, What is this state in which I find you? and Attaf wept and made his complaint in these verses:—
Troubles, poverty and distant sojourn far away from the dear ones, and a crushing desire to see them:
The soul is in them, they became like their fellows, thus the enigma remains in the world;
While the generous is stricken with misfortune and grief, where’s the miser that finds not good fortune therein?
When Attaf had finished he conversed with the Caliph about his history and all his life from beginning to end; and Er-Rashid cried and suffered at what had happened to him after the loss of his riches, nor did he cease to weep with Ja’afar until the close of Attaf’s story. The Sheikh who had killed the lad and had been liberated by Ja’afar came in and Er-Rashid laughed at seeing him. Then he caused Attaf to be seated and made him repeat his story. And when Attaf had finished speaking the Caliph looked at Ja’afar and said, The proverb goeth:—
Good for good, to the giver the merit remains; evil for evil, the doer’s most cruel.
Afterwards the Caliph said to Ja’afar, Tell me what thou didst for thy brother Attaf before he came to thee, and he answered, O Commander of the Faithful, he came upon me suddenly, and I now prepare for him three millions of gold, and the like of it in horses, and in slaves, and in boys, and in dresses; and the Caliph said, From me the same. Here endeth the last leaf of the writ, but the Wari says that two days afterwards Ja’afar restored to his friend Attaf his beloved cousin-wife, saying to him, I have divorced her and now I deliver over to thee intact the precious deposit that thou didst place in my hands. Already hath the order from the Caliph been despatched to Damascus enjoining the arrest of the NaVb, to place him in irons and imprison him until further notice. Attaf passed several months in Baghdad enjoying the pleasures of the city in company with his friend Ja’afar and Er-Rashid. He would have liked to have stayed there all his life, but numerous letters from his relations and his friends praying him to return to Damascus, he thought it his duty to do so, and asked leave of the Caliph, who granted it, not without regrets and fears for his future condition. Er-Rashid appointed him Wali of Damascus and gave him the imperial rescript; and a great escort of horses, mules and dromedaries, with abundant magnificent presents accompanied him as far as Damascus, where he was received with great pomp. All the city was illuminated as a mark of joy for the return of Attaf, so loved and respected by all classes of the people, and above all by the poor who had wept incessantly for him in his absence. As to the NaVb, a second decree of the Caliph ordered his being put to death for his oppression of the people, but by the generous intercession of Attaf Er-Rashid contented himself with commuting the sentence to banishment. Attaf governed his people many years with justice and prosperity, protector of his happy subjects and in the enjoyment of the delights and pleasures of life, until the Angel of Death overtook him and summoned him to Paradise.
310 MS. pp. 588-627. In Gauttier’s edit. vii. (234-256), it appears as Histoire de l’Habitant de Damas. His advertisement in the beginning of vol. vii. tells us that it has been printed in previous edits., but greatly improved in his; however that may be, the performance is below contempt. In Heron it becomes The POWER OF DESTINY, or Story of the Journey of Giafar to Damascus, comprehending the adventures of Chebib and his Family (Vol. i. Pp. 69-175).
311 Damascus-city (for which see the tale of Núr al-Din Ali and his Son, The Nights, vol. i. 239-240) derives its name from Dimishk who was son of Bátir, i. Málik, i. Arphaxed, i. Shám, i. Nuh (Noah); or son of Nimrod, son of Canaan. Shám = Syria (and its capital) the land on the left, as opposed to Al-Yaman the land on the right of one looking East, is noticed in vol. i. 55. In Mr. Cotheal’s MS. Damascus is entitled “Shám” because it is the “Shámat” cheek-mole (beauty-spot) of Allah upon earth. “Jalak” the older name of the “Smile of the Prophet,” is also noted: see vol. ii. 109.
312 Hátim of the Tayy-tribe, proverbial for liberality. See vols. iv. 95, and vii. 350.
313 In Mr. Cotheal’s MS. the Caliph first laughs until he falls backwards, and then after reading further, weeps until his beard in bathed.
314 Heron inserts into his text, “It proved to be a Giaffer, famous throughout all Arabia,” and informs us (?) in a foot-note that it is “Ascribed to a prince of the Barmecide race, an ancestor of the Gran Vizier Giafar.” The word “Jafr” is supposed to mean a skin (camel’s or dog’s ), prepared as parchment for writing; and Al-Jafr, the book here in question, is described as a cabalistic prognostication of all that will ever happen to the Moslems. The authorship is attributed to Ali, son-in-law of the Prophet. There are many legendary tales concerning its contents; however, all are mere inventions as the book is supposed to be kept in the Prophet’s family, nor will it be fully explained until the Mahdi or Forerunner of Doomsday shall interpret its difficulties. The vulgar Moslems of India are apt to confuse Al-Jafr with Ja’afar bin Tayyár, the Jinni who is often quoted in talismans (see Herklots, pp. 109-257). D’Herbelot gives the sum of what is generally known about the “Jafr” (wa Jámi’a) under the articles “Ali” and “Gefru Giame.”
315 The father (whom Heron calls “Hichia Barmaki”) spoke not at random, but guessed that the Caliph had been reading the book Al-Jafr.
316 Heron calls Ja’afar’s wife “Fatmé” from the French.
317 This is the open grassy space on the left bank of the Baradah River, first sighted by travellers coming from Bayrút. See vol. i. 234, where it is called Al-Hasá = the Plain of Pebbles.
318 Heron names him Chebib (Habíb) also “Xakem Tai-Chebib” = Hátim Tayy Habíb.
319 The scene is described at full length in the Cotheal MS. with much poetry sung by a fair slave-girl and others.
320 Again showing the date of the tale to be modern. See my Terminal Essay, p. 85.
321 This might serve even in these days to ask a worshipful guest why he came, and what was his business — it is the address of a well-bred man to a stranger of whose rank and station he is ignorant. The vulgar would simply say, “Who art thou, and what is thy native country?”
322 In Heron the host learns everything by the book Al-Jafr.
323 In text “Muzawwa” which the Egyptian pronounces “Mugawwaz.”
324 Which would be necessary after car. cop. with his women.
325 In text “Kabr al-Sitt,” wherein the Sitt Zaynab, aunt to Mohammed, is supposed to lie buried. Here the cultivation begins about half a mile’s ride from the Báb-al-Shághúr or S. Western gate of the city. It is mentioned by Baedeker (p. 439), and ignored by Murray, whose editor, Mr. Missionary Porter, prefers to administer the usual dainty dish of “hashed Bible.”
326 Arab. “Jámi’ al-Amawí”: for this Mosque, one of the Wonders of the Moslem World, consult any Guide Book to Damascus. See Suppl. vol. iv. Night cccxlii. In Heron it becomes the “Giamah Illamoue,” one of the three most famous mosques in the world.
327 M. houdas trasnlates “Tarz,” “Márkaz” or “Mirkáz” by Un pierrre en forme de dame, instrument qui sert à enfoncer les pavés (= our “beetle”); c’est-à-dire en form de borne.
328 For this “window-gardening,” an ancient practice in the East, see vol. i. 301.
329 Heron calls her “Negemet-il-Souper” = Najmat al-Sabáh = Constellation of Morn. In the Cotheal MS. she uses very harsh language to the stranger, “O Bull (i.e. O stupid), this be not thy house nor yet the house of thy sire,” etc.; “go forth to the curse of God and get thee to Hell,” etc.
330 For “Kayf” = joy, the pleasure of living, see my Pligrimage i. 12-13.
331 In text, “‘Ayyik,” or “‘Ayyuk” = a hinderer (of disease) from ‘Ayk or ‘Auk, whence also ‘Ayyúk = Capella, a bright star proverbial for its altitude, as in the Turk, saw “to give praise to the ‘Ayyúk” = skies.
332 Auspicious formulû. The Cotheal MS. calls the physician “Dubdihkán.”
333 In text “Kullu Shayyin lí mu’as’as”; the latter from “‘As’as” = to complicate a matter.
334 A sign that he diagnosed a moral not a bodily disorder. We often find in The Nights, the doctor or the old woman distinguishing a love-fit by the pulse or similar obscure symptoms, as in the case of Seleucus, Stratonice and her step-son Antiochus — which seems to be the arch-type of these anecdotes.
335 Arab. “Kirsh,” before explained; in Harun’s day = 3 francs.
336 In the Cotheal MS. the recipe occupies a whole page of ludicrous items, e.g. Let him take three Miskals of pure “Union-with-the-lover,” etc.
337 In the Cotheal MS. Attaf seeks his paternal uncle and father-in-law with the information that he is going to the Pilgrimage and Visitation.
338 Called in the old translation or rather adaptation “Scheffander-Hassan” or simply “Scheffander” = Shahbandar Hasan, for which see vol. iv. 29. In the Cotheal MS. (p. 33) he becomes the “Emir Omar, and the Báshá of Damascus” (p. 39).
339 The passage is exceedingly misspelt. “Ammá min Maylí Binti-ka sháshí Aná Aswadu (for Sháshi M. Houdas reads “Jáshí” = my heart) Wa Taná (read “Thaná,” reputation) Binti-ka abyazu min Sháshí.”
340 One of the formulû of divorce.
341 In text “Muábalár min Shaani-ka.” M. Houdas reads the first word “Muzábal” = zublán, wearied, flaccid, weak.
342 For “Al-‘iddah,” in the case of a divorcée three lunar months, for a widow four months and ten days and for a pregnant woman, the interval until her delivery, see vols. iii. 292; vi. 256; and x. 43: also Lane (M.E.) chap. iii.
343 In text “Alfi (4th form of ‘Lafw’) Hájatan,” the reading is that of M. Houdas; and the meaning would be “what dost thou want (in the way of amusement)? I am at thy disposal.”
344 Heron has here interpolated an adventure with a Bazar-cook and another with a Confectioner: both discover Ja’afar also by a copy of the “Giaffer” (Al-Jafr). These again are followed by an episode with a fisherman who draws in a miraculous draught by pronouncing the letters “Gim. Bi. Ouaow” (wáw = J. B. W.), i.e. Ja’afar, Barmecide, Wazir; and discovers the Minister by a geomantic table. Then three Darvishes meet and discourse anent the virtues of “Chebib” (i.e. Attaf); and lastly come two blind men, the elder named Benphises, whose wife having studied occultism and the Dom-Daniel of Tunis, discovers Ja’afar. All this is to marshal the series of marvels and wonders upon wonders predicted to Ja’afar by his father when commanding him to visit Damascus; and I have neither space nor inclination to notice their enormous absurdities.
345 This Governor must not be confounded with the virtuous and parsimonious Caliph of the same name the tenth of the series (reign A.D. 692-705) who before ruling studied theology at Al-Medinah and won the sobriquet of “Mosque-pigeon.” After his accession he closed the Koran saying, “Here you and I part,” and busied himself wholly with mundane matters. The Cotheal MS. mentions only the “Nabob” (Náib = lieutenant) of Syria.
346 “Kapú” (written and pronounced Kapi in Turk.) is a door, a house or a government office and Kapújí = a porter; Kapújí-báshí = head porter; also a chamberlain in Arab. “Hájíb”; and Kapú Katkhúdási (pron. Kapi-Kyáyasí) = the agent which every Governor is obliged to keep at Constantinople.
347 In text “Al-buyúrdi,” clerical error for “Buyúruldi” (pron. Buyúruldu) = the written order of a Governor.
348 “Al-Yamaklak” = vivers, provaunt; from the T. “Yamak” = food, a meal.
349 Meaning that he waived his right to it.
350 In text “Zawádah” (gen. “Azwád” or “Azwi’dah”) = provisions, viaticum.
351 In text “Takhtrawún”; see vols. ii. 180; v. 175. In the Cotheal MS. it is a “Haudaj” = camel-litter (vol. viii. 235).
352 “Kubbat al-‘Asáfír,” now represented by the “Khan al-Asáfír,” on the road from Damascus to Palmyra, about four hours’ ride from and to the N. East of the Báb Túmá or N. Eastern gate. The name is found in Baedeker (p. 541). IN the C. MS. it becomes the “Thaníyyat al-‘Ukáb” = the Vulture’s Pass.
353 Meaning that Attaf had not the heart to see his cousin-wife leave her home.
354 Written in Turkish fashion with the Jím (j) and three dots instead of one. This Persian letter is still preserved in the Arabic alphabets of Marocco, Algiers, etc.
355 In Arab. “Jinn” = spirit or energy of a man, which here corresponds with the Heb. “Aub”; so in the Hamasah the poet says, “My Jinn have not fled; my life is not blunted; my birds never drooped for fear,” where, say commentators, the Arabs compare an energetic man with a Jinní or Shaytán. So the Prophet declared of Omar, “I never saw such an ‘Abkarí amongst men,” ‘Abkar, in Yamámah, like Yabrín and Wabár near Al-Yaman, being a desolate region, the home of wicked races destroyed by Allah and now haunted by gruesome hosts of non-human nature. Chenery, pp. 478-9.
356 In the C. MS. it is an Emir of the Emirs.
357 Arab. “Tábah.”
358 This excellent episode is omitted in the C. MS. where Attaf simply breaks gaol and reaching Aleppo joins a caravan to Baghdad.
359 In text “Katalú-ní”: see vols. v. 5; vi. 171.
360 In the C. MS. he enters a mosque and finds a Ja’ídí (vagabond) who opens his bag and draws out a loaf, a roast food, lemons, olives, cucumbers and date-cake, which suggest to Attaf, who had not eaten such things for a month, “the table of Isá bin Maryam.” For the rest see Mr. Cotheal’s version.
361 The C. MS. gives the short note in full.
362 In text “al-Towáb,” Arab. plur. of the Persian and Turk. “Top.” We hardly expected to find ordinance in the age of Harun al-Rashid, although according to Milton they date before the days of Adam.
363 M. Houdas would read for “Alhy Tys” in the text “Tuhá Tays” a general feast; “Tuhá” = cooked meat and “Tays” = myriads of.
364 M. Houdas translates les injures devancèrent les compliments, an idiom = he did not succeed in his design.
365 “Cousin” being more polite than “wife”: see vols. vi. 145; ix. 225.
366 Les vertèbres ont fait bourrelet, says M. Houdas who adds that “Shakbán” is the end of a cloth, gown, or cloak, which is thrown over the shoulders and serves, like the “Jayb” in front, to carry small parcels, herbs, etc.
367 In the local Min jargon, the language of Fellahs, “Addíki” = I will give thee.
368 In text “Min al-’án wa sá’idan;” lit. = from this moment upwards.
369 “Tarajjum” taking refuge from Satan the Stone (Rajím). See vol. iv. 242.
370 i.e. a descenant of Al-Háshim, great-grandfather of the Prophet. See ix. 24.
371 In text “Shobási,” for “Sobáshí” which M. Houdas translates prévôt du Palais.
372 In the C. MS. Attaf’s head was to be cut off.
373 In the C. MS. the anagnorisis is much more detailed. Ja’afar asks Attaf if he knew a Damascus-man Attaf hight and so forth; and lastly an old man comes forward and confesses to have slain the Sharíf or Háshimi.
374 The drink before the meal, as is still the custom in Syria and Egypt. See vol. vii. 132.
375 Gauttier (vii. 256), illustrating the sudden rise of low-caste and uneducated men to high degree, quotes a contemporary celebrity, the famous Mirza Mohammed Husayn Khan who, originally a Bakkál or greengrocer, was made premier of Fath Ali Shah’s brilliant court, the last bright flash of Iranian splendour and autocracy. But Irán is a land upon which Nature has inscribed “Resurgam”; and despite her present abnormal position between two vast overshadowing empires — British India and Russia in Asia — she has still a part to play in history. And I may again note that Al-Islam is based upon the fundamental idea of a Republic which is, all (free) men are equal, and the lowest may aspire to the highest dignity.
376 In text “‘Aramramí.”
377 “Wa’lláha ‘l-Muwaffiku ‘l-Mu’in” = God prospereth and directeth, a formula often prefixed or suffixed to a book.
Here we begin to indite the history of Sultan Habib and of what befel him with Durrat al-Ghawwas.378
It is related (but Allah is All-knowing of His unknown and All-cognisant of what took place and forewent in the annals of folk!) that there was, in days of yore and in times and tides long gone before, a tribe of the tribes of the Arabs hight Banú Hilál379 whose head men were the Emir Hilál and the Emir Salámah.380 Now this Emir Salamah had well nigh told out his tale of days without having been blessed with boon of child; withal he was a ruler valiant, masterful, a fender of his foes and a noble knight of portly presence. He numbered by the thousand horsemen the notablest of cavaliers and he came to overrule three-score-and-six tribes of the Arabs. One chance night of the nights as he lay sleeping in the sweetness of slumber, a Voice addressed him saying, “Rise forthright and know thy wife, whereby she shall conceive under command of Allah Almighty.” Being thus disturbed of his rest the Emir sprang up and compressed his spouse Kamar al-Ashráf;381 she became pregnant by that embrace and when her days came to an end she bare a boy as the full moon of the fulness-night who by his father’s hest was named Habíb.382 And as time went on his sire rejoiced in him with joy exceeding and reared him with fairest rearing and bade them teach him Koran-reading together with the glorious names of Almighty Allah and instruct him in writing and in all the arts and sciences. After this he bestowed robes of honour and gifts of money and raiment upon the teachers who had made the Sultan383 Habib, when he reached the age of seventeen, the most intelligent and penetrating and knowing amongst the sons of his time. And indeed men used to admire at the largeness of his understanding and were wont to say in themselves, “There is no help but that this youth shall rise to dignity (and what dignity!) whereof men of highmost intellect shall make loud mention.” For he could write the seven caligraphs384 and he could recite traditions and he could improvise poetry; and, on one occasion when his father bade him versify impromptu, that he might see what might come thereof, he intoned,
“O my sire, I am lord of all lere man knows or knew —
Have enformed my vitals with lore and with legend true;
Nor cease I repeat what knowledge this memory guards
And my writ as ruby and pearl doth appear to view.”
So the Emir Salamah his sire marvelled at the elegance of his son’s diction; and the Notables of the clan, after hearing his poetry and his prose, stood astounded at their excellence; and presently the father clasped his child to his breast and forthright summoned his governor, to whom there and then he did honour of the highmost. Moreover he largessed him with four camels carrying loads of gold and silver and he set him over one of his subject tribes of the Arabs; then said he to him, “Indeed thou hast done well, O Shaykh; so take this good and fare therewith to such a tribe and rule it with justice and equity until the day of thy death.” Replied the governor, “O King of the Age, I may on no wise accept thy boons, for that I am not of mankind but of Jinn-kind; nor have I need of money or requirement of rule. Know thou, O my lord, that erst I sat as Kázi amongst the Jinns and I was enthroned amid the Kings of the Jánn, whenas one night of the nights a Voice385 addressed me in my sleep saying, ‘Rise and hie thee to the Sultan Habib son of the Emir Salamah ruler of the tribes of the Arabs subject to the Banu Hilal and become his tutor and teach him all things teachable; and, if thou gainsay going, I will tear thy soul from thy body.’ Now when I saw this marvel-vision in my sleep, I straightway arose and repairing to thy son did as I was bidden.”386 But as the Emir Salamah heard the words of this Shaykh he bowed him down and kissing his feet cried, “Alhamdolillah — laud to the Lord, who hath vouchsafed thee to us of His bounty; and indeed thy coming to us was of good omen, O Judge of the Jann.” “Where is thy son?” quoth the governor, and quoth the father, “Ready, aye ready;” then he summoned his child and when the Shaykh looked upon his pupil he wept with sore weeping and cried, “Parting from thee, O Habib, is heavy upon us,” presently adding, “Ah! were ye to wot all that shall soon befal this youth after my departure and when afar from me!”387 Those present in the assembly at once asked saying,
“And what shall, O Shaykh, to us fall forthright?”
Quoth he, “Sore marvels shall meet your sight:
No heart have I to describe it you.”
Then approached Habib the same tutor-wight;
And clasping the youth to the breast of him,
Kissed his cheek a-shrieking the shrillest shright.388
Whereupon all about them were perturbed and were amated and amazed at the action of the Shaykh when, vanishing from their view, he could nowhere be seen. Then the Emir Salamah addressed the lieges saying, “Ho ye Arabs, who wotteth what presently shall betide my son? would Heaven I had one to advise him!” Hereupon said his Elders and Councillors, “We know of none.” But the Sultan Habib brooded over the disappearance of his governor and bespake his sire weeping bitter tears the while, “O my father, where be he who brought me up and enformed me with all manner knowledge?” and the Emir replied, “O my son, one day of the days he farewelled us and crying out with a loud cry evanished from our view and we have seen him no more.” Thereupon the youth improvised and said,
“Indeed I am scourged by those ills whereof I felt affray, ah!
By parting and thoughts which oft compellèd my soul to say, ‘Ah!’
Oh saddest regret in vitals of me that ne’er ceaseth, nor
Shall minished be his love that still on my heart doth prey, ah!
Where hath hied the generous soul my mind with lere adorned?
And alas! what hath happened, O sire, to me, and well-away, ah!”
Hereat the Emir Salamah shed tears (as on like wise did all present) and quoth he to his son, “O Habib, we have been troubled by his action,” and quoth the youth, “How shall I endure severance from one who fostered me and brought me to honour and renown and who raised my degree so high?” Then began he to improvise saying,
“Indeed this pine in my heart grows high,
And in eyeballs wake doth my sleep outvie:
You marched, O my lords, and from me hied far
And you left a lover shall aye outcry:
I wot not where on this earth you be
And how long this patience when none is nigh:
Ye fared and my eyeballs your absence weep,
And my frame is meagre, my heart is dry.”
Now whilst the Emir Salamah was sitting in his seat of dignity and the Sultan Habib was improvising poetry and shedding tears in presence of his sire, they heard a Voice which announced itself and its sound was audible whilst its personality was invisible. Thereupon the youth shed tears and cried, “O father mine, I need one who shall teach me horsemanship and the accidents of edge and point and onset and offset and spearing and spurring in the Maydán; for my heart loveth knightly derring-do to plan, such as riding in van and encountering the horseman and the valiant man.” And the while they were in such converse behold, there appeared before them a personage rounded of head, long of length and dread, with turband wide dispread, and his breadth of breast was armoured with doubled coat of mail whose manifold rings were close-enmeshed after the model of Dáúd389 the Prophet (upon whom be The Peace!). Moreover he hent in hand a mace erst a block cut out of the live hard rock, whose shock would arrest forty braves of the doughtiest; and he was baldrick’d with an Indian blade that quivered in the grasp, and he bestrode, with a Samhari390 lance at rest, a bay destrier of black points whose peer was not amongst the steeds of the Arabs. Then he took his station standing as a vassal between the Emir Salamah’s hands and he addressed a general salam and he greeted all that stood a-foot or were seated. His salute they repealed and presently the pages hastened forwards and aided him alight from his charger’s back; and after waiting for a full-told hour that he might take somewhat of repose, the stranger-knight and doughty wight advanced and said, “Ho thou the Emir, I came hither to fulfil the want whereof thou expressedst a wish; and, if such prove thy pleasure, I will teach thy son fray and fight and prowess in the plain of sword-stroke and lance-lunge. But ere so doing I would fain test thy skill in cavalarice; so do thou, O Emir, be first to appear as champion and single combatant in the field when I will show thee what horsemanship is.” “Hearkening and obeying,” replied the Emir, “and if thou desire the duello with us we will not baulk thee thereof.” Hereat his Shaykhs and Chieftains sprang up and cried to him, “O Emir, Allah upon thee, do not meet in fight this cavalier for that thou wottest not an he be of mankind or of Jinn-kind; so be thou not deceived by his sleights and snares.” “Suffer me this day,” quoth the Emir, “to see the cavalarice of this cavalier, and, if over me he prevail, know him to be a knight with whom none may avail.” Speaking thus the Emir arose and hied him to his tent where he bade the slaves bring forth the best of his habergeons; and, when all these were set before him, he took from them a Davidian suit of manifold rings and close-meshed, which he donned, and he baldrick’d himself with a scymitar of Hindi steel, hadst thou smitten therewith a cliff it had cleft it in twain or hadst thou stricken a hill it had been laid level as a plain; and he hent in hand a Rudaynían lance391 of Khatt Hajar, whose length was thirty ells and upon whose head sat a point like unto a basilisk’s tongue; and lastly he bade his slaves bring him his courser which in the race was the fleetest-footed of all horses. Then the two combatants took the plain accompanied by the tribesmen nor did one of them all, or great or small, remain in camp for desire to witness the fight of these champions who were both as ravening lions. But first the stranger-knight addressed his adversary and speaking with free and eloquent tongue quoth he, “I will encounter thee, O Emir Salamah, with the encountering of the valiant; so have thou a heed of me for I am he hath overthrown the Champions some and all.” At these words each engaged his foeman and the twain forwards pressed for a long time, and the Raven of cut-and-thrust croaked over the field of fight and they exchanged strokes with the Hindi scymitar and they thrust and foined with the Khatti spear and more than one blade and limber lance was shivered and splintered, all the tribesmen looking on the while at both. And they ceased not to attack and retire and to draw near and draw off and to heave and fence until their forearms ailed and their endeavour failed. Already there appeared in the Emir Salamah somewhat of weakness and weariness; natheless when he looked upon his adversary’s skill in the tourney and encounter of braves he saw how to meet all the foeman’s sword-strokes with his targe: however at last fatigue and loss of strength prevailed over him and he knew that he had no longer the force to fight; so he stinted his endeavour and withdrew from brunt of battle. Hereat the stranger-knight alighted and falling at the Emir’s feet kissed them and cried, “O Sovran of the Age, I came not hither to war with thee but rather with the design of teaching thy son, the Sultan Habib, the complete art of arms and make him the prow cavalier of his day.” Replied Salamah, “In very sooth, O horseman of the age, thou hast spoken right fairly in thy speech; nor did I design with thee to fight nor devised I the duello or from steed to alight;392 nay, my sole object was my son to incite that he might learn battle and combat aright, and the charge of the heroic Himyarite393 to meet with might.” Then the twain dismounted and each kissed his adversary; after which they returned to the tribal camp and the Emir bade decorate it and all the habitations of the Arab clans with choicest decoration, and they slaughtered the victims and spread the banquets and throughout that day the tribesmen ate and drank and fed the travellers and every wayfarer and the mean and mesquin and all the miserables. Now as soon as the Sultan Habib was informed concerning that cavalier how he had foiled his father in the field of fight, he repaired to him and said, “Peace be with him who came longing for us and designing our society! Who art thou, Ho thou the valorous knight and foiler of foemen in fight?” Said the other, “Learn thou, O Habib, that Allah hath sent me theewards.” “And, say me, what may be thy name?” “I am hight Al-‘Abbús,394 the Knight of the Grim Face.” “I see thee only smiling of countenance whilst thy name clean contradicteth thy nature;” quoth the youth. Presently the Emir Salamah committed his son to the new governor saying, “I would thou make me this youth the Brave of his epoch;” whereto the knight replied, “To hear is to obey, first Allah then thyself and to do suit and service of thy son Habib.” And when this was determined youth and governor went forth to the Maydan every day and after a while of delay Habib became the best man of his age in fight and fray. Seeing this his teacher addressed him as follows. “Learn, O Sultan Habib, that there is no help but thou witness perils and affrights and adventures, wherefor is weak the description of describers and thou shalt say in thyself, ‘Would heaven I had never sighted such and I were of these same free.’ And thou shalt fall into every hardship and horror until thou be united with the beautiful Durrat al-Ghawwás, Queen-regnant over the Isles of the Sea. Meanwhile to affront all the perils of the path thou shalt fare forth from thy folk and bid adieu to thy tribe and patrial stead; and, after enduring that which amateth man’s wit, thou shalt win union with the daughter of Queen Kamar al-Zamán.”395 But when Habib heard these words concerning the “Pearl of the Diver” his wits were wildered and his senses were agitated and he cried to Al-Abbús, “I conjure thee by Allah say me, is this damsel of mankind or of Jinn-kind.” Quoth the other, “Of Jinn-kind, and she hath two Wazirs, one of either race, who overrule all her rulers, and a thousand islands of the Isles of the Sea are subject to her command, while a host of Sayyids and Sharífs396 and Grandees hath flocked to woo her, bringing wealthy gifts and noble presents, yet hath not any of them won his wish of her but all returned baffled and baulked of their will.” Now the Sultan Habib hearing this from him cried in excess of perturbation and stress of confusion, “Up with us and hie we home where we may take seat and talk over such troublous matter and debate anent its past and its future.” “Hearkening and obedience,” rejoined the other; so the twain retired into privacy in order to converse at ease concerning the Princess, and Al-Abbus began to relate in these words —
Whilome there was a Sovran amongst the Kings of the Sea, hight Sábúr, who reigned over the Crystalline Isles,397 and he was a mighty ruler and a generous, and a masterful potentate and a glorious. He loved women and he was at trouble to seek out the fairest damsels; yet many of his years had gone by nor yet had he been blessed with boon of boy. So one day of the days he took thought and said in himself, “To this length of years I have attained and am well nigh at life’s end and still am I childless: what then will be my case?” Presently, as he sat upon his throne of kingship, he saw enter to him an Ifrit fair of face and form, the which was none other than King ‘Atrús398 of the Jánn, who cried, “The Peace be upon thee, Ho thou the King! and know that I have come to thee from my liege lord who affecteth thee. In my sleep it befel that I heard a Voice crying to me, ‘During all the King’s days never hath he been vouchsafed a child, boy or girl; so now let him accept my command and he shall win to his wish. Let him distribute justice and largesse and further the rights of the wronged and bid men to good and forbid them from evil and lend not aid to tyranny or to innovation in the realm and persecute not the unfortunate, and release from gaol all the prisoners he retaineth.’ At these words of the Voice I awoke astartled by my vision and I hastened to thee without delay and I come with design to inform thee, O King of the Age, that I have a daughter, hight Kamar al-Zaman, who hath none like her in her time, and no peer in this tide, and her I design giving thee to bride. The Kings of the Jann have ofttimes asked her in marriage of me but I would have none of them save a ruler of men like thyself and Alhamdolillah — glory be to God, who caused thy Highness occur to my thought, for that thy fame in the world is goodly fair and thy works make for righteousness. And haply by the blessing of these thou shalt beget upon my daughter a man child, a pious heir and a virtuous.” Replied the King, “Ho thou who comest to us and desirest our weal, I accept thine offer with love and good will.” Then Sabur, the King of the Crystalline Isles, bade summon the Kazi and witnesses, and quoth the Ifrit, “I agree to what thou sayest, and whatso thou proposest that will I not oppose.” So they determined upon the dowry and bound him by the bond of marriage with the daughter of Al-‘Atrus, King of the Jinns, who at once sent one of his Flying Jann to bring the bride. She arrived forthright when they dressed and adorned her with all manner ornaments, and she came forth surpassing all the maidens of her era. And when King Sabur went in unto her he found her a clean maid: so he lay that night with her and Almighty Allah so willed that she conceived of him. When her days and months of pregnancy were sped, she was delivered of a girl-babe as the moon, whom they committed to wet-nurses and dry-nurses, and when she had reached her tenth year, they set over her duennas who taught her Koran-reading and writing and learning and belles-lettres; brief, they brought her up after the fairest of fashions. Such was the lot399 of Durrat al-Ghawwas, the child of Kamar al-Zaman, daughter to King ‘Atrus by her husband King Sabur. But as regards the Sultan Habib and his governor Al-Abbus, the twain ceased not wandering from place to place in search of the promised damsel until one day of the days when the youth entered his father’s garden and strolled the walks adown amid the borders400 and blossoms of basil and of rose full blown and solaced himself with the works of the Compassionate One and enjoyed the scents and savours of the flowers there bestrown; and, while thus employed, behold, he suddenly espied the maiden, Durrat al-Ghawwas hight, entering therein as she were the moon; and naught could be lovelier than she of all earth supplies, gracious as a Huriyah of the Virgins of Paradise, to whose praise no praiser could avail on any wise. But when the Sultan Habib cast upon her his eyes he could no longer master himself and his wits were bewildered from the excitement of his thoughts; so he regarded her with a long fixed look and said in himself, “I fear whenas she see me that she will vanish from my sight.” Accordingly, he retired and clomb the branches of a tree in a stead where he could not be seen and whence he could see her at his ease. But as regards the Princess, she ceased not to roam about the Emir Salamah’s garden until there approached her two score of snow-white birds each accompanied by a handmaid of moon-like beauty. Presently they settled upon the ground and stood between her hands saying, “Peace be upon thee, O our Queen and Sovran Lady.” She replied, “No welcome to you and no greeting; say me, what delayed you until this hour when ye know that I am longing to meet the Sultan Habib, the dear one, son of Salamah, and I long to visit him for that he is the dearling of my heart. Wherefor I bade you accompany me and ye obeyed not, and haply ye have made mock of me and of my commandment.” “We never gainsay thy behest,” replied they, “or in word or in deed;” and they fell to seeking her beloved. Hearing this the Sultan Habib’s heart was solaced and his mind was comforted and his thoughts were rightly directed and his soul was reposed; and when he was certified of her speech, he was minded to appear before her; but suddenly fear of her prevailed over him and he said to his thoughts, “Haply she will order one of the Jinns to do me die; so ’twere better to have patience and see what Allah shall purpose for me of His Almighty will.” But the Princess and her attendants ceased not wandering about the garden from site to site and side to side till they reached the place wherein the Sultan Habib lay in lurking; when Durrat al-Ghawwas there stood still and said in herself, “Now I came not from my capital save on his account, and I would see and be seen by him even as the Voice informed me of him, O ye handmaidens; and peradventure hath the same informed him of me.” Then the Princess and her suite, drawing still nearer to his place of concealment, found a lakelet in the Arab’s garden brimful of water amiddlemost whereof stood a brazen lion, through whose mouth the water entered to issue from his tail. Hereat the Princess marvelled and said to her bondswomen, “This be none other than a marvellous lake, together with the lion therein; and when, by the goodwill of Almighty Allah, I shall have returned home, I will let make a lakelet after this fashion, and in it set a lion of brass.” Thereupon she ordered them to doff their dress and go down to the piece of water and swim about; but they replied, “O our lady, to hear is to obey thy commandment, but we will not strip nor swim save with thee.” Then she also did off her dress and all stripped themselves and entered the lakelet in a body, whereupon the Sultan Habib looked through the leaves to solace himself with the fair spectacle and he ejaculated, “Blessed be the Lord the best of Creators!” And when the handmaids waxed aweary of swimming, the Princess commanded them to come forth the water, and said, “Whenas Heaven willeth that the desire of my heart be fulfilled in this garden, what deem ye I should do with my lover?” and quoth they, “’Twould only add to our pleasure and gladness.” Quoth she, “Verily my heart assureth me that he is here and hidden amongst the trees of yon tangled brake;” and she made signs with her hand whither Habib lay in lurking-place; and he, espying this, rejoiced with joy galore than which naught could be more, and exclaimed, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great; what meaneth this lady? Indeed, I fear to stay in this stead lest she come hither and draw me forth and put me to shame; and ’twere better that of mine own accord I come out of my concealment and accost her and suffer her to do all she designeth and desireth.” So he descended from the topmost of the tree wherein he had taken refuge and presented himself before the Princess Durrat Al-Ghawwas, who drew near and cried to him, “O Habib, O welcome to Habib! and is it thus that we have travailed with love of thee and longing for thee, and where hast thou been all this time, O my dearling, and O coolth of my eyes and O slice of my liver?” Replied he, “I was in the head of yonder huge tree to which thou pointedst with thy finger.” And as they looked each at other she drew nearer to him and fell to improvising,
“Thou hast doomed me, O branchlet of Bán, to despair
Who in worship and honour was wont to fare —
Who lived in rule and folk slaved for me
And hosts girded me round every hest to bear!”
And anon quoth the Sultan Habib, “Alhamdolillah — laud be to the Lord, who deigned show me thy face and thy form! Can it be thou kennest not what it was that harmed me and sickened me for thy sake, O Durrat al-Ghawwas?” Quoth she, “And what was it hurt thee and ailed thee?” “It was the love of thee and longing for thee!” “And who was the first to tell thee and make thee ware of me?” He replied saying, “One day it so befel, as I was amongst my family and my tribe, a Jinni Al-Abbus hight became my governor and taught me the accidents of thrust and cut and cavalarice; and ere he left he commended thy beauty and loveliness and foretold to me all that would pass between thee and me. So I was engrossed with affection for thee ere my eyes had sight of thee, and thenceforwards I lost all the pleasures of sleep, nor were meat and eating sweet to me, nor were drink and wine, draughts a delight to me: so Alhamdolillah — praise be to Allah, who deigned conjoin me in such union with my heart’s desire!” Hereat the twain exchanged an embrace so long that a swoon came upon them and both fell to the ground in a fainting fit, but after a time the handmaidens raised them up and besprinkled their faces with rose-water which at once revived them. All this happened, withal the Emir Salamah wotted naught of what had befallen his son the Sultan Habib nor did his mother weet that had betided her child; and the husband presently went in to his spouse and said, “Indeed this boy hath worn us out: we see that o’ nights he sleepeth not in his own place and this day he fared forth with the dawn and suffered us not to see a sight of him.” Quoth the wife, “Since the day he went to Al-Abbus, thy boy fell into cark and care;” and quoth the husband, “Verily our son walked about the garden and Allah knoweth that therefrom is no issue anywhither. So there shalt thou find him and ask him of himself.” And they talked over this matter in sore anger and agitation. Meanwhile as the Sultan Habib sat in the garden with the handmaids waiting upon him and upon the Princess Durrat al-Ghawwas, there suddenly swooped upon them a huge bird which presently changed form to a Shaykh seemly of aspect and semblance who approached and kissing their feet humbled himself before the lover and his beloved. The youth marvelled at such action of the Shaykh, and signalled to the Princess as to ask, “Who may be this old man?” and she answered in the same way, “This is the Wazir who caused me forgather with thee;” presently adding to the Shaykh, “What may be thy need?” “I came hither for the sake of thee,” he replied, “and unless thou fare forthright to thy country and kingdom the rule of the Jánn will pass from thy hand; for that the Lords of the land and Grandees of the realm seek thy loss and not a few of the nobles have asked me saying, O Wazir, where is our Queen? I answered, She is within her palace and to-day she is busied with some business. But such pretext cannot long avail, and thou, unless thou return with me to the region of thy reign there shall betray thee some one of the Marids and the hosts will revolt against thee and thy rule will go to ruin and thou wilt be degraded from command and sultanate.” “What then is thy say and what thy bidding?” enquired she, and he replied, “Thou hast none other way save departure from this place and return to thy realm.” Now when these words reached the ear of Durrat al-Ghawwas, her breast was straitened and she waxed sorrowful with exceeding sorrow for severance from her lover whom she addressed in these words, “What sayest thou anent that thou hast heard? In very sooth I desire not parting from thee and the ruin of my reign as little do I design; so come with me, O dearling of my heart, and I will make thee liege lord over the Isles of the Sea and sole master thereof.” Hereat the Sultan Habib said in his soul, “I cannot endure parting from my own people; but as for thee thy love shall never depart from thee:” then he spake aloud, “An thou deign hear me, do thou abandon that which thou purposest and bid thy Wazir rule over the Isles and thy patrial stead; so shall we twain, I and thou, live in privacy for all time and enjoy the most joyous of lives.” “That may never be,” was her only reply; after which she cried to the Wazir saying, “Carry me off that I fare to my own land.” Then after farewelling her lover, she mounted the Emir-Wazir’s back401 and bade him bear her away, whereat he took flight and the forty handmaidens flew with him, towering high in air. Presently, the Sultan Habib shed bitter tears; his mother hearing him weeping sore as he sat in the garden went to her husband and said, “Knowest thou not what calamity hath befallen thy son that I hear him there groaning and moaning”” Now when the parents entered the garden, they found him spent with grief and the tears trickled adown his cheeks like never-ceasing rain-showers;402 so they summoned the pages who brought cucurbits of rosewater wherewith they besprinkled his face. But as soon as he recovered his senses and opened his eyes, he fell to weeping with excessive weeping and his father and mother likewise shed tears for the burning of their hearts and asked him, “O Habib, what calamity hath come down to thee and who of his mischief hath overthrown thee? Inform us of the truth of thy case.” So he related all that had betided between him and Durrat-al-Ghawwas, and his mother wept over him while his father cried, “O Habib, do thou leave this say and this thy desire cast away that the joys of meat and drink and sleep thou may enjoy alway.” But he made answer, “O my sire, I will not slumber upon this matter until I shall sleep the sleep of death.” “Arise thou, O my child,” rejoined the Emir, “and let us return homewards,”403 but the son retorted, “Verily I will not depart from this place wherein I was parted from the dearling of my heart.” So the sire again urged him saying, “These words do thou spare nor persist in this affair because therefrom for thee I fear;” and he fell to cheering him and comforting his spirits. After a while the Sultan Habib arose and fared homewards beside his sire who kept saying to him, “Patience, O my child, the while I assist thee in thy search for this young lady and I send those who shall bring her to thee.” “O my father,” rejoined the son, “I can no longer endure parting from her; nay, ’tis my desire that thou load me sundry camels with gold and silver and plunder and moneys that I may go forth to seek her: and if I win to my wish and Allah vouchsafe me length of life I will return unto you; but an the term of my days be at hand then the behest be to Allah, the One, the Omnipotent. Let not your breasts be straitened therefor and do ye hold and believe that if I abide with you and see not the beloved of my soul I shall perish of my pain while you be standing by to look upon my death. So suffer me to wayfare and attain mine aim; for from the day when my mother bare me ’twas written to my lot that I journey over wild and wold and that I see and voyage over the seas seven-fold.” Hereupon he fell to improvising these verses,
“My heart is straitened with grief amain
And my friends and familiars have wrought me pain;
And whene’er you’re absent I pine, and fires
In my heart beweep what it bears of bane:
O ye, who fare for the tribe’s domain,
Cry aloud my greetings to friends so fain!”
Now when the Emir Salamah heard these his son’s verses, he bade pack for him four camel loads of the rarest stuffs, and he largessed to him a she-dromedary laden with thrones of red gold; then he said to him, “Lo, O my son, I have given thee more than thou askedst.” “O my father,” replied Habib, “where are my steed and my sword and my spear?” Hereat the pages brought forward a mail-coat Davidian404 and a blade Maghrabian and a lance Khattian and Samharian, and set them between his hands; and the Sultan Habib donning the habergeon and drawing his sabre and sitting lance in rest backed his steed, which was of the noblest blood known to all the Arabs. Then quoth he, “O my father, is it thy desire to send with me a troop of twenty knights that they may escort me to the land of Al-Yaman and may anon bring me back to thee?” “My design,” quoth the sire, “is to despatch those with thee who shall befriend thee upon the road;” and, when Habib prayed him do as he pleased, the Emir appointed to him ten knights, valorous wights, who dreaded naught of death however sudden and awesome. Presently, the youth farewelled his father and mother, his family and his tribe, and joining his escort, mounted his destrier when Salamah, his sire, said to his company, “Be ye to my son obedient in all he shall command you;” and said they, “Hearing and obeying.” Then Habib and his many turned away from home and addressed them to the road when he began to improvise the following lines,
My longing grows less and far goes my cark
After flamed my heart with the love-fire stark;
As I ride to search for my soul’s desire
And I ask of those faring to Al-Irák.”
On this wise it befel the Sultan Habib and his farewelling his father and mother; but now lend ear to what came of the knights who escorted him. After many days of toil and travail they waxed discontented and disheartened; and presently taking counsel one with other, they said, “Come, let us slay this lad and carry off the loads of stuffs and coin he hath with him; and when we reach our homes and be questioned concerning him, let us say that he died of the excess of his desire to Princess Durrat al-Ghawwas.” So they followed this rede, while their lord wotted naught of the ambush laid for him by his followers. And having ridden through the day when the night of offence405 was dispread, the escort said, “Dismount we in this garden406 that here we may take our rest during the dark hours, and when morning shall morrow we will resume our road.” The Sultan Habib had no mind to oppose them, so all alighted and in that garden took seat and whatso of victual was with them produced; after which they ate and drank their sufficiency and lay down to sleep all of them save their lord, who could not close eye for excess of love-longing. “O Habib, why and wherefore sleepest thou not?” they asked, and he answered, “O comrades mine, how shall slumber come to one yearning for his dearling, and verily I will lie awake nor enjoy aught repose until such time as I espy the lifeblood of my heart, Durrat al-Ghawwas.” Thereupon they held their peace; and presently they held council one with other saying, “Who amongst us can supply a dose of Bhang that we may cast him asleep and his slaughter may be easy to us?” “I have two Miskáls weight407 of that same,” quoth one of them, and the others took it from him and presently, when occasion served, they put it into a cup of water and presented it to Habib. He hent that cup in hand and drank off the drugged liquid at a single draught; and presently the Bhang wrought in his vitals and its fumes mounted to his head, mastering his senses and causing his brain to whirl round, whereupon he sank into the depths of unconsciousness. Then quoth his escort, “As soon as his slumber is soundest and his sleep heaviest we will arise and slay him and bury him on the spot where he now sleepeth: then will we return to his father and mother, and tell them that of love-stress to his beloved and of excessive longing and pining for her he died.” And upon this deed of treachery all agreed. So when dawned the day and showed its sheen and shone clear and serene the knights awoke and seeing their lord drowned408 in sleep they arose and sat in council, and quoth one of them, “Let us cut his throat from ear to ear;”409 and quoth another, “Nay, better we dig us a pit the stature of a man and we will cast him amiddlemost thereof and heap upon him earth so that he will die, nor shall any know aught about him.” Hearing this said one of the retinue, whose name was Rabí’a,410 “But fear you naught from Almighty Allah and regard ye not the favours wherewith his father fulfilled you, and remember ye not the bread which ye ate in his household and from his family? Indeed ‘twas but a little while since his sire chose you out to escort him that his son might take solace with you instead of himself, and he entrusted unto you his heart’s core, and now ye are pleased to do him die and thereby destroy the life of his parents. Furthermore, say me doth your judgment decide that such ill-work can possibly abide hidden from his father? Now I swear by the loyalty411 of the Arabs there will not remain for us a wight or any who bloweth the fire alight, however mean and slight, who will receive us after such deed. So do ye at least befriend and protect your households and your clans and your wives and your children whom ye left in the tribal domain. But now you design utterly to destroy us, one and all, and after death affix to our memories the ill-name of traitors, and cause our women be enslaved and our children enthralled, nor leave one of us aught to be longed for.” Quoth they jeeringly, “Bring what thou hast of righteous rede:” so quoth he, “Have you fixed your intent upon slaying him and robbing his good?” and they answered, “We have.” However, he objected again and cried, “Come ye and hear from me what it is I advise you, albeit I will take no part412 in this matter;” presently adding, “Established is your resolve in this affair, and ye wot better than I what you are about to do. But my mind is certified of this much; do ye not transgress in the matter of his blood and suffer only his crime be upon you;413 moreover, if ye desire to lay hands upon his camels and his moneys and his provisions, then do ye carry them off and leave him where he lieth; then if he live, ’twere well, and if he die ’twill be even better and far better.” “Thy rede is right and righteous,” they replied. Accordingly they seized his steed and his habergeon and his sword and his gear of battle and combat, and they carried off all he had of money and means, and placing him naked upon the bare ground they drove away his camels. Presently asked one of other, “Whenas we shall reach the tribe what shall we say to his father and his mother?” “Whatso Rabi’a shall counsel us,” quoth they, and quoth Rabi’a, “Tell them, ‘We left not travelling with your son; and, as we fared along, we lost sight of him and we saw him nowhere until we came upon him a-swoon and lying on the road senseless: then we called to him by name but he returned no reply, and when we shook him with our hands behold, he had become a dried-up wand. Then seeing him dead we buried him and brought back to you his good and his belongings.’” “And if they ask you,” objected one, “‘In what place did ye bury him and in what land, and is the spot far or near,’ what shall ye make answer; also if they say to you, ‘Why did ye not bear his corpse with you,’ what then shall be your reply?” Rabi’a to this rejoined “Do you say to them, ‘Our strength was weakened and we waxed feeble from burn of heart and want of water, nor could we bring his remains with us.’ And if they ask you, ‘Could ye not bear him a-back; nay, might ye not have carried him upon one of the camels?’ do ye declare that ye could not for two reasons, the first being that the body was swollen and stinking from the fiery air, and the second our fear for his father, lest seeing him rotten he could not endure the sight and his sorrow be increased for that he was an only child and his sire hath none other.” All the men joined in accepting this counsel of Rabi’a, and each and every exclaimed, “This indeed is the rede that is most right.” Then they ceased not wayfaring until they reached the neighbourhood of the tribe, when they sprang from their steeds and openly donned black, and they entered the camp showing the sorest sorrow. Presently they repaired to the father’s tent, grieving and weeping and shrieking as they went; and when the Emir Salamah saw them in this case, crowding together with keening and crying for the departed, he asked them, “Where is he, my son?” and they answered, “Indeed he is dead.” Right hard upon Salamah was this lie, and his grief grew the greater, so he scattered dust upon his head and plucked out his beard and rent his raiment and shrieked aloud saying, “Woe for my son, ah! Woe for Habib, ah! Woe for the slice of my liver, ah! Woe for my grief, ah! Woe for the core414 of my heart, ah!” Thereupon his mother came forth, and seeing her husband in this case, with dust on his head and his beard plucked out and his robe-collar415 rent, and sighting her son’s steed she shrieked, “Woe is me and well-away for my child, ah!” and fainted swooning for a full-told hour. Anon when recovered she said to the knights who had formed the escort, “Woe to you, O men of evil, where have ye buried my boy?” They replied, “In a far-off land whose name we wot not, and ’tis wholly waste and tenanted by wild beasts,” whereat she was afflicted exceedingly. Then the Emir Salamah and his wife and household and all the tribesmen donned garbs black-hued and ashes whereupon to sit they strewed, and ungrateful to them was the taste of food and drink, meat and wine; nor ceased they to beweep their loss, nor could they comprehend what had befallen their son and what of ill-lot had descended upon him from Heaven. Such then was the case of them; but as regards the Sultan Habib, he continued sleeping until the Bhang ceased to work in his brain, when Allah sent a fresh, cool wind which entered his nostrils and caused him sneeze, whereby he cast out the drug and sensed the sun-heat and came to himself. Hereupon he opened his eyes and sighted a wild and waste land, and he looked in vain for his companions the knights, and his steed and his sword and his spear and his coat of mail, and he found himself mother-naked, athirst, anhungered. Then he cried out in that Desert of desolation which lay far and wide before his eyes, and the case waxed heavy upon him, and he wept and groaned and complained of his case to Allah Almighty, saying, “O my God and my Lord and my Master, trace my lot an thou hast traced it upon the Guarded Tablet, for who shall right me save Thyself, O Lord of Might that is All-might and of Grandeur All-puissant and All-excellent!” Then he began improvising these verses,
“Faileth me, O my God, the patience with the pride o’ me;
Life-tie is broke and drawing nigh I see Death-tide o’ me:
To whom shall injured man complain of injury and wrong
Save to the Lord (of Lords the Best!) who stands by side o’me.”
Now whilst the Sultan Habib was ranging with his eye-corners to the right and to the left, behold, he beheld a blackness rising high in air, and quoth he to himself, “Doubtless this dark object must be a mighty city or a vast encampment, and I will hie me thither before I be overheated by the sun-glow and I lose the power of walking and I die of distress and none shall know my fate.” Then he heartened his heart for the improvising of such poetry as came to his mind, and he repeated these verses,
“Travel, for on the way all goodly things shalt find;
And wake from sleep and dreams if still to sleep inclined!
Or victory win and rise and raise thee highmost high
And gain, O giddy pate, the food for which thy soul hath pined;
Or into sorrow thou shalt fall with breast full strait
And ne’er enjoy the Fame that wooes the gen’rous mind,
Nor is there any shall avail to hinder Fate
Except the Lord of Worlds who the Two Beings416 designed.”
And when he had finished his verse, the Sultan Habib walked in the direction of that blackness nor left walking until he drew near the ridge; but after he could fare no farther and that walking distressed him (he never having been broken to travel afoot and barefoot withal), and his forces waxed feeble and his joints relaxed and his strong will grew weak and his resolution passed away. But whilst he was perplexed concerning what he should do, suddenly there alighted between his hands a snow-white fowl huge as the dome of a Hammám, with shanks like the trunk of a palm-tree. The Sultan Habib marvelled at the sight of this Rukh, and saying to himself, “Blessed be Allah the Creator!” he advanced slowly towards it and all unknown to the fowl seized its legs. Presently the bird put forth its wings (he still hanging on) and flew upwards to the confines of the sky, when behold, a Voice was heard saying, “O Habib! O Habib! hold to the bird with straitest hold, else ’twill cast thee down to earth and thou shalt be dashed to pieces limb from limb!” Hearing these words he tightened his grasp and the fowl ceased not flying until it came to that blackness which was the outline of Káf the mighty mountain, and having set the youth down on the summit it left him and still flew onwards. Presently a Voice sounded in the sensorium of the Sultan Habib saying, “Take seat, O Habib; past is that which conveyed thee hither on thy way to Durrat al-Ghawwas;” and he, when the words met his ear, aroused himself and arose and, descending the mountain slope to the skirting plain, saw therein a cave. Hereat quoth he to himself, “If I enter this antre, haply shall I lose myself, and perish of hunger and thirst!” He then took thought and reflected, “Now death must come sooner or later, wherefore will I adventure myself in this cave.” And as he passed thereinto he heard one crying with a high voice and a sound so mighty that its volume resounded in his ears. But right soon the crier appeared in the shape of Al-Abbus, the Governor who had taught him battle and combat; and, after greeting him with great joy, the lover recounted his love-adventure to his whilome tutor. The Jinni bore in his left a scymitar, the work of the Jann and in his right a cup of water which he handed to his pupil. The draught caused him to swoon for an hour or so, and when he came-to Al-Abbus made him sit up and bathed him and robed him in the rarest of raiment and brought him a somewhat of victual and the twain ate and drank together. Then quoth Habib to Al-Abbus, “Knowest thou not that which befel me with Durrat al-Ghawwas of wondrous matters?” and quoth the other, “And what may that have been?” whereupon the youth rejoined, “O my brother, Allah be satisfied with thee for that He willed thou appear to me and direct me and guide me aright to the dearling of my heart and the cooling of mine eyes.” “Leave thou such foolish talk,” replied Al-Abbus, “for where art thou and where is Durrat al-Ghawwas? Indeed between thee and her are horrors and perils and long tracts of land and seas wondrous, and adventures marvellous, which would amaze and amate the rending lions, and spectacles which would turn grey the sucking child or any one of man’s scions.” Hearing these words Habib clasped his governor to his breast and kissed him between the eyes, and the Jinni said, “O my beloved, had I the might to unite thee with her I would do on such wise, but first ’tis my desire to make thee forgather with thy family in a moment shorter than an eye-twinkling.” “Had I longed for my own people,” rejoined Habib, “I should never have left them, nor should I have endangered my days nor wouldst thou have seen me in this stead; but as it is I will never return from my wayfaring till such time as my hope shall have been fulfilled, even although my appointed life-term should be brought to end, for I have no further need of existence.” To these words the Jinni made answer, “Learn thou, O Habib, that the cavern wherein thou art containeth the hoards of our Lord Solomon, David’s son (upon the twain be The Peace!), and he placed them under my charge and he forbade me abandon them until such time as he shall permit me, and furthermore that I let and hinder both mankind and Jinn-kind from entering the Hoard; and know thou, O Habib, that in this cavern is a treasure-house and in the Treasury forty closets offsetting to the right and to the left. Now wouldst thou gaze upon this wealth of pearls and rubies and precious stones, do thou ere passing through the first door dig under its threshold, where thou shalt find buried the keys of all the magazines. Then take the first of them in hand and unlock its door, after which thou shalt be able to open all the others and look upon the store of jewels therein. And when thou shalt design to depart the Treasury thou shalt find a curtain hung up in front of thee and fastened around it eighty hooks of red gold;417 and do thou beware how thou raise the hanging without quilting them all with cotton.” So saying he gave him a bundle of tree-wool he had by him, and pursued, “O Habib, when thou shalt have raised the curtain thou wilt discover a door with two leaves also of red gold, whereupon couplets are inscribed, and as regards the first distich an thou master the meaning of the names and the talismans, thou shalt be saved from all terrors and horrors, and if thou fail to comprehend them thou shalt perish in that Hoard. But after opening the door close it not with noise nor glance behind thee, and take all heed, as I fear for thee those charged with the care of the place418 and its tapestry. And when thou shalt stand behind the hanging thou shalt behold a sea clashing with billows dashing, and ’tis one of the Seven Mains which shall show thee, O Habib, marvels whereat thou shalt wonder, and whereof relaters shall relate the strangest relations. Then do thou take thy stand upon the sea-shore whence thou shalt descry a ship under way and do thou cry aloud to the crew who shall come to thee and bear thee aboard. After this I wot not what shall befal thee in this ocean, and such is the end of my say and the last of my speech, O Habib, and — The Peace!” Hereat the youth joyed with joy galore than which naught could be more and taking the hand Of Al-Abbus he kissed it and said, “O my brother, thou hast given kindly token in what thou hast spoken, and Allah requite thee for me with all weal, and mayest thou be fended from every injurious ill!” Quoth Al-Abbus, “O Habib, take this scymitar and baldrick thyself therewith, indeed ‘twill enforce thee and hearten thy heart, and don this dress which shall defend thee from thy foes.” The youth did as he was bidden; then he farewelled the Jinni and set forth on his way, and he ceased not pacing forward until he reached the end of the cavern and here he came upon the door whereof his governor had informed him. So he went to its threshold and dug thereunder and drew forth a black bag creased and stained by the lapse of years. This he unclosed and it yielded him a key which he applied to the lock and it forthwith opened and admitted him into the Treasury where, for exceeding murk and darkness, he could not see what he hent in hand. Then quoth he to himself, “What is to do? Haply Al-Abbus hath compassed my destruction!” And the while he sat on this wise sunken in thought, behold, he beheld a light gleaming from afar, and as he advanced its sheen guided him to the curtain whereof he had been told by the Jinni. But as he looked he saw above it a tablet of emerald dubbed with pearls and precious stones, while under it lay the hoard which lighted up the place like the rising sun. So he hastened him thither and found inscribed upon the tablet the following two couplets,
“At him I wonder who from woe is free,
And who no joy displays419 when safe is he:
And I admire how Time deludes man when
He views the past; but ah, Time’s tyranny.”
So the Sultan Habib read over these verses more than once, and wept till he swooned away; then recovering himself he said in his mind, “To me death were pleasanter than life without my love!” and turning to the closets which lay right and left he opened them all and gazed upon the hillocks of gold and silver and upon the heaps and bales of rubies and unions and precious stones and strings of pearls, wondering at all he espied, and quoth he to himself “Were but a single magazine of these treasures revealed, wealthy were all the peoples who on earth do dwell.” Then he walked up to the curtain whereupon Jinns and Ifrits appeared from every site and side, and voices and shrieks so loudened in his ears that his wits well-nigh flew from his head. So he took patience for a full-told hour when behold, a smoke which spired in air thickened and brooded low, and the sound ceased and the Jinns departed. Hereat, calling to mind the charge of Al-Abbus, he took out the cotton he had by him and after quilting the golden hooks he withdrew the curtain and sighted the portal which the Jinni had described to him. So he fitted in the key and opened it, after which, oblivious of the warning, he slammed-to the door noisily in his fear and forgetfulness, but he did not venture to look behind him. At this the Jinns flocked to him from every side and site crying, “O thou foulest of mankind, wherefore dost thou provoke us and disturb us from our stead? and, but for thy wearing the gear of the Jann, we had slain thee forthright.” But Habib answered not and, arming himself with patience and piety, he tarried awhile until the hubbub was stilled, nor did the Jann cry at him any more: and, when the storm was followed by calm, he paced forward to the shore and looked upon the ocean crashing with billows dashing. He marvelled at the waves and said to himself, “Verily none may know the secrets of the sea and the mysteries of the main save only Allah!” Presently, he beheld a ship passing along shore, so he took seat on the strand until Night let down her pall of sables upon him; and he was an-hungered with exceeding hunger and athirst with excessive thirst. But when morrowed the morn and day showed her sheen and shone serene, he awoke in his sore distress and behold, he saw two Mermaidens of the daughters of the deep (and both were as moons) issue forth hard by him. And ere long quoth one of the twain, “Say me, wottest thou the mortal who sitteth yonder?” “I know him not,” quoth the other, whereat her companion resumed, “This be the Sultan Habib who cometh in search of Durrat al-Ghawwas, our Queen and liege lady.” Hearing these words the youth considered them straitly and marvelling at their beauty and loveliness he presently rejoiced and increased in pleasure and delight. Then said one to other, “Indeed the Sultan Habib is in this matter somewhat scant and short of wits; how can he love Durrat al-Ghawwas when between him and her is a distance only to be covered by the sea-voyage of a full year over most dangerous depths? And, after all this woe hath befallen him, why doth he not hie him home and why not save himself from these horrors which promise to endure through all his days and to cast his life at last into the pit of destruction?” Asked the other, “Would heaven I knew whether he will ever attain to her or not!” and her companion answered, “Yes, he will attain to her, but after a time and a long time and much sadness of soul.” But when Habib heard this promise of success given by the Maidens of the Main his sorrow was solaced and he lost all that troubled him of hunger and thirst. Now while he pondered these matters there suddenly issued from out the ocean a third Mermaid, which asked her fellows, “Of what are you prattling?” and they answered, “Indeed the Sultan Habib sitteth here upon the sea-shore during this the fourth successive night.” Quoth she, “I have a cousin the daughter of my paternal uncle and when she came to visit me last night I enquired of her if any ship had passed by her and she replied, ‘Yea verily, one did sail driven towards us by a violent gale, and its sole object was to seek you.’” And the others rejoined, “Allah send thee tidings of welfare!” The youth hearing these words was gladdened and joyed with exceeding joy; and presently the three Mermaidens called to one another and dove into the depths leaving the listener standing upon the strand. After a short time he heard the cries of the crew from the craft announced and he shouted to them and they, noting his summons, ran alongside the shore and took him up and bore him aboard: and, when he complained of hunger and thirst, they gave him meat and drink and questioned him saying, “Thou! who art thou? Say us, art of the trader-folk?” “I am the merchant Such-and-such,” quoth he, “and my ship foundered albe ’twas a mighty great vessel; but one chance day of the days as we were sailing along there burst upon us a furious gale which shivered our timbers and my companions all perished while I floated upon a plank of the ship’s planks and was carried ashore by the send of the sea. Indeed I have been floating for three days and this be my fourth night.” Hearing this adventure from him the traders cried, “Grieve no more in heart but be thou of good cheer and of eyes cool and clear: the sea voyage is ever exposed to such chances and so is the gain thereby we obtain; and if Allah deign preserve us and keep for us the livelihood He vouchsafed to us we will bestow upon thee a portion thereof.” After this they ceased not sailing until a tempest assailed them and blew their vessel to starboard and larboard and she lost her course and went astray at sea. Hereat the pilot cried aloud, saying, “Ho ye company aboard, take your leave one of other for we be driven into unknown depths of ocean, nor may we keep our course, because the wind bloweth full in our faces.” Hereupon the voyagers fell to beweeping the loss of their lives and their goods, and the Sultan Habib shed tears which trickled adown his cheeks and exclaimed, “Would Heaven I had died before seeing such torment: indeed this is naught save a matter of marvel.” But when the merchants saw the youth thus saddened and troubled of soul, and weeping withal, they said to him, “O Monarch of the Merchants, let not thy breast be straitened or thy heart be disheartened: hapty Allah shall vouchsafe joy to us and to thee: moreover, can vain regret and sorrow of soul and shedding of tears avail aught? Do thou rather ask of the Almighty that He deign relieve us and further our voyage.” But as the vessel ran through the middle of the main, she suddenly ceased her course and came to a stop without tacking to the right or the left, and the pilot cried out, “O folk, is there any of you who conneth this ocean?” But they made answer, “We know thereof naught, neither in all our voyage did we see aught resembling it.” The pilot continued, “O folk, this main is hight ‘The Azure’;420 nor did any trader at any time therein enter but he found destruction; for that it is the home of Jinns and the house of Ifrits, and he who now withholdeth our vessel from its course is known as Al-Ghashamsham,421 and our lord Solomon son of David (upon the twain be The Peace!) deputed him to snatch up and carry off from every craft passing, through these forbidden depths whatever human beings, and especially merchants, he might find a-voyaging, and to eat them alive.” “Woe to thee!” cried Habib. “Wherefore bid us take counsel together when thou tellest us that here dwelleth a Demon over whom we have no power to prevail, and thou terrifiest us with the thoughts of being devoured by him? However, feel ye no affright; I will fend off from you the mischief of this Ifrit.” They replied, “We fear for thy life, O Monarch of the Merchants,” and he rejoined, “To you there is no danger.” Thereupon he donned a closely woven mail-coat and armed himself with the magical scymitar and spear; then, taking the skins of animals freshly slain,422 he made a hood and vizor thereof and wrapped strips of the same around his arms and legs that no harm from the sea might enter his frame. After this he bade his shipmates bind him with cords under his armpits and let him down amiddlemost the main. And as soon as he touched bottom he was confronted by the Ifrit, who rushed forward to make a mouthful of him, when the Sultan Habib raised his forearm and with the scymitar smote him a stroke which fell upon his neck and hewed him into two halves. So he died in the depths; and the youth, seeing the foeman slain, jerked the cord and his mates drew him up and took him in, after which the ship sprang forward like a shaft outshot from the belly423 of the bow. Seeing this all the traders wondered with excessive wonderment and hastened up to the youth, kissing his feet and crying, “O Monarch of the Merchants, how didst thou prevail against him and do him die?” “When I dropped into the depths,” replied he, “in order to slay him, I asked against him the aidance of Allah, who vouchsafed His assistance, and on such wise I slaughtered him.” Hearing these good tidings and being certified of their enemy’s death the traders offered to him their good and gains whereof he refused to accept aught, even a single mustard seed. Now, amongst the number was a Shaykh well shotten in years and sagacious in all affairs needing direction; and this oldster drew near the youth, and making lowly obeisance said to him, “By the right of Who sent thee uswards and sent us theewards, what art thou and what may be thy name and the cause of thy falling upon this ocean?” The Sultan Habib began by refusing to disclose aught of his errand, but when the Shaykh persisted in questioning he ended by disclosing all that had betided him first and last, and as they sailed on suddenly the Pilot cried out to them, “Rejoice ye with great joy and make ye merry and be ye gladdened with good news, O ye folk, for that ye are saved from the dangers of these terrible depths and ye are drawing near the city of Sábúr, the King who overruleth the Isles Crystalline; and his capital (which be populous and prosperous) ranketh first among the cities of Al-Hind, and his reign is foremost of the Isles of the Sea.” Then the ship inclined thither, and drawing nearer little by little entered the harbour424 and cast anchor therein, when the canoes425 appeared and the porters came on board and bore away the luggage of the voyagers and the crew, who were freed from all sorrow and anxiety. Such was their case; but as regards Durrat al-Ghawwas, when she parted from her lover, the Sultan Habib, severance weighed sore and stark upon her, and she found no pleasure in meat and drink and slumber and sleep. And presently whilst in this condition and sitting upon her throne of estate, an Ifrit appeared to her and coming forwards between her hands said, “The Peace of Allah upon thee, O Queen of the Age and Empress of the Time and the Tide!” whereto she made reply, “And upon thee be The Peace and the ruth of Allah and His blessings. What seekest thou O Ifrit?” Quoth he, “There lately hath come to us a shipful of merchants and I have heard talk of the Sultan Habib being amongst them.” As these words reached her ear she largessed the Ifrit and said to him, “An thou speak sooth I will bestow upon thee whatso thou wishest.” Then, having certified herself of the news, she bade decorate the city with the finest of decorations and let beat the kettledrums of glad tidings and bespread the way leading to the Palace with a carpeting of sendal,426 and they obeyed her behest. Anon she summoned her pages and commanded them to bring her lover before her; so they repaired to him and ordered him to accompany them. Accordingly, he followed them and they ceased not faring until they had escorted him to the Palace, when the Queen bade all her pages gang their gait and none remained therein save the two lovers; to wit, the Sultan Habib and Durrat al-Ghawwas. And after the goodly reunion she sent for the Kazi and his assessors and bade them write out her marriage-writ427 with Habib. He did as he was bidden and the witnesses bore testimony thereto and to the dowry being duly paid; and the tie was formally tied and the wedding banquets were dispread. Then the bride donned her choicest of dresses and the marriage procession was formed and the union was consummated and both joyed with joy exceeding. Now this state of things endured for a long while until the Sultan Habib fell to longing after his parents and his family and his native country; and at length, on a day of the days, when a banquet was served up to him by his bride, he refused to taste thereof, and she, noting and understanding his condition, said to him, “Be of good cheer, this very night thou shalt find thee amongst thine own folk.” Accordingly she summoned her Wazir of the Jann, and when he came she made proclamation amongst the nobles and commons of the capital saying, “This my Wazir shall be my Viceregent over you and whoso shall gainsay him that man I will slay.” They replied with “Hearkening to and obeying Allah and thyself and the Minister.” Then turning to her newly-established deputy she said, “I desire that thou guide me to the garden wherein was the Sultan Habib;” and he replied, “Upon my head be it and on my eyes!” So an Ifrit was summoned, and Habib mounting him pick-a-back together with the Princess Durrat al-Ghawwas bade him repair to the garden appointed, and the Jinni took flight, and in less than the twinkling of an eye bore the couple to their destination. Such was the reunion of the Sultan Habib with Durrat al-Ghawwas and his joyous conjunction;428 but as regards the Emir Salamah and his wife, as they were sitting and recalling to memory their only child and wondering in converse at what fate might have betided him, lo and behold! the Sultan Habib stood before them and by his side was Durrat al-Ghawwas his bride, and as they looked upon him and her, weeping prevailed over them for excess of their joyance and delight and both his parents threw themselves upon him and fell fainting to the ground. As soon as they recovered the youth told them all that had betided him, first and last, whereupon one congratulated other and the kettledrums of glad tidings were sounded, and a world of folk from all the Badawi tribes and the burghers gathered about them and offered hearty compliments on the reunion of each with other. Then the encampment was decorated in whole and in part, and festivities were appointed for a term of seven days full-told, in token of joy and gladness; and banquets were arrayed and trays were dispread, and all sat down to them in the pleasantest of life eating and drinking; and the hungry were filled, and the mean and the miserable and the mendicants were feasted until the end of the seventh day. After this they applied them to the punishment of the ten Knights whom the Emir Salamah had despatched to escort his son; and the Sultan Habib gave order that retribution be required from them, and restitution of all the coin and the good and the horses and the camels entrusted to them by his sire. When these had been recovered he commanded that there be set up for them as many stakes in the garden wherein he sat with his bride, and there in their presence he let impale429 each upon his own pale. And thenceforward the united household ceased not living the most joyous of lives and the most delectable until the old Emir Salamah paid the debt of nature, and they mourned him with excessive mourning for seven days. When these were ended his son, the Sultan Habib, became ruler in his stead and received the homage of all the tribes and clans who came before him and prayed for his victory and his length of life; and the necks of his subjects, even the most stubborn, were bowed in abasement before him. On this wise he reigned over the Crystalline Isles of Sabur, his sire-in-law, with justice and equity, and his Queen, Durrat al-Ghawwas, bare to him children in numbers who in due time followed in their father’s steps. And here is terminated the tale of Sultan Habib and Durrat al-Ghawwas with all perfection and completion and good omen.
The older translators of this “New Arabian Night” have made wild work with this Novel at least as the original is given by my text and the edition of Gauttier (vii, 60-90): in their desire to gallicise it they have invested it with a toilette purely European and in the worst possible style. Amongst the insipid details are the division of the Crystalline Islands into the White, Yellow, Green and Blue; with the Genies Abarikaff, the monstrous Racachik, Ilbaccaras and Mokilras; and the terrible journey of Habib to Mount Kaf with his absurd reflections: even the “Roc” cannot come to his aid without “a damask cushion suspended between its feet by silken cords” for the greater comfort of the “Arabian Knight.” The Treasury of Solomon, “who fixed the principles of knowledge by 366 hieroglyphics (sic) each of which required a day’s application from even the ablest understanding, before its mysterious sense could be understood,” is spun out as if the episode were copy intended for the daily press. In my text the “Maidens of the Main” are introduced to say a few words and speed the action. In the French version Ilzaide the elder becomes a “leading lady,” whose rôle is that of the naïve ingénue, famous for “smartness” and “vivacty”: “one cannot refrain from smiling at the lively sallies of her good nature and simplicity of heart.” I find this young person the model of a pert, pretty, prattling little French soubrette who, moreover, makes open love to “the master.” Habib calls the “good old lady,” his governess “Esek! Esek!” which in Turk. means donkey, ass. I need hardly enlarge upon these ineptitudes; those who wish to pursue the subject have only to compare the two versions.
At the end of the Frenchified tale we find a note entitled:— Observations by the French Editor, on the “History of Habib and Dorathil-goase, or the Arabian Knight,” and these are founded not upon the Oriental text but upon the Occidental perversion. It is described “from a moral plane rather as a poem than a simple tale,” and it must be regarded as “a Romance of Chivalry which unites the two chief characteristics of works of that sort — amusement and instruction.” Habib’s education is compared with that of Telemachus, and his being inured to fatigue is according to the advice of Rousseau in his “Emilius” and the practice of Robinson Crusoe. Lastly “Grandison is a here already formed: Habib is one who needs to be instructed.” I cannot but suspect when reading all this Western travesty of an Eastern work that M. Cazotte, a typical littérateur, had prepared for caricaturing the unfortunate Habib by carefully writing up Fénélon, Rousseau, and Richardson; and had grafted his own ideas of morale upon the wild stem of the Arabian novel.
378 MS. pp. 628-685. Gauttier, vii. 64-90; Histoire du Prince Habib et de la Princesse Dorrat-el-Gawas. The English translation dubs it “Story of Habib and Dorathil-goase, or the Arabian Knight” (vol. iii. 219-89); and thus degrades the high sounding name to a fair echo of Dorothy Goose. The name = Pearl of the Diver: it is also the P.N. of a treatise on desinental syntax by the grammarian-poet Al-Hariri (Chenery, p. 539).
379 The “Banú Hilál,” a famous tribe which formed part of a confederation against the Prophet on his expedition to Honayn. See Tabari, vol. iii. chapt. 32, and Doughty, Arabia Deserta (Index, B. Helal). In the text we have the vulgarism “Baní” for “Banú”.
380 Gauttier (vii. 64) clean omits the former Emir because he has nothing to do with the tale. In Heron it is the same, and the second chief is named “Emir-Ben-Hilac-Salamis”; or for shortness tout bonnement “Salamis”; and his wife becoming Amírala which, if it mean anything, is = Colonel, or Captain R. N.
381 ie. Moon of the Nobles.
382 = the Beloved, le bien-aimé.
383 As has been seen Gauttier reduces the title to “Prince.” Amongst Arabs, however, it is not only a name proper but may denote any dignity from a Shaykh to a Sultan rightly so termed.
384 For the seven handwritings see vol. iv. 196. The old English version says, “He learned the art of writing with pens cut in seven different ways.” To give an idea of the style it renders the quatrain:—“Father,” said the youth, “you must apply to my master, to give you the information you desire. As for me, I must long be all eye and all ear. I must learn to use my hand, before I begin to exercise my tongue, and to write my letters as pure as pearls from the water.” And this is translation!
385 I need hardly note that “Voices from the other world” are a lieu commun of so-called Spiritualism. See also vol. i. 142 and Suppl. Vol. iii.
386 This tale and most of those in the MS. affect the Ká1a ‘l-Ráwí (= quoth the reciter) showing the true use of them. See Terminal Essay, vol. x. 144.
387 The missing apodosis would be, “You would understand the cause of my weeping.”
388 In the text there are only five lines. I have borrowed the sixth from the prose.
389 “Dáúd” = David: see vols. ii. 286; vi. 113.
390 For “Samharí” see vol. iv. 258.
391 From “Rudaynah,” either a woman or a place: see vols. ii. 1; vii. 265; and for “Khatt Hajar” vol. ii. 1.
392 This is the idiomatic meaning of the Arab word “Nizál” = dismounting to fight on foot.
393 In the text “Akyál,” plur. of “Kayl” = Kings of the Himyarite peoples. See vol. vii. 60; here it is = the hero, the heroes.
394 An intensive word, “on the weight,” as the Arabs say of ‘Abbás (stern-faced) and meaning “Very stern-faced, austere, grim.” In the older translations it becomes “Il Haboul”— utterly meaningless.
395 The Arab. “Moon of the Time” becomes in the olden versions “Camaulzaman,” which means, if anything, “Complete Time,” and she is the daughter of a Jinn-King “Illabousatrous (Al-‘Atrús?).” He married her to a potent monarch named “Shah-Goase” (Shah Ghawwás=King Diver), in this version “Sábúr” (Shahpur), and by him Kamar Al-Zaman became the mother of Durrat al-Ghawwas.
396 In text “Sádát wa Ashráf:” for the technical meaning of “Sayyid” and “Sharif” see vols. iv. 170; v. 259.
397 Gauttier, vii. 71. Les Isles Bellour. see vol. iii. 194.
398 Heron’s “Illabousatrous”(?).
399 In text “Zayjah,” from Pers. “Záycheh” = lit. a horoscope, a table for calculating nativities and so forth. In page 682 of the MS. the word is used = marriage-lines.
400 In text “Snsál,” for “Salsál “ = lit. chain.
401 In Sindbad the Seaman I have shown that riding men as asses is a facetious exaggeration of an African practice, the Minister being generally the beast of burden for the King. It was the same in the Maldive Islands. “As soon as the lord desires to land, one of the rhief Catibes (Arab. Khatíb = a preacher, not Kátib = a writer) comes forward to offer his shoulder (a function much esteemed) and the other gets upon his shoulders; and so, with a leg on each side, he rides him horse fashion to land, and is there set down.” See p. 71, “The Voyage of François Pyrard,” etc. The volume is unusually well edited by Mr. Albert Gray, formerly of the Ceylon Civil Service, for the Hakluyt Society, MDCCCLXXXVII: it is, however, regretable that he and Mr. Bell, his collaborateur, did not trace out the Maldive words to their “Aryan” origin showing their relationship to vulgar Hindostani as Mas to Machhí (fish) from the Sanskrit Matsya.
402 In text “Ghayth al-Hátíl = incessant rain of small drops and widely dispread. In Arab. the names for clouds, rain and all such matters important to a pastoral race are well nigh innumerable. Poetry has seized upon the material terms and has converted them into a host of metaphors; for “the genius of the Arabic language, like that of the Hebrew, is to form new ideas by giving a metaphorical signification to material objects (e.g. ‘Azud, lit. the upper arm; met. a helper).” Chenery, p. 380.
403 In the text “To the palace:” the scribe, apparently forgetting that he is describing Badawi life, lapses at times into “decorating the capital” and “adorning the mansion,” as if treating of the normal city-life. I have not followed his example.
404 Heron translates “A massy cuirass of Haoudi.”
405 In text, “Inbasata ‘l-Layl al-Asá,” which M. Houdas renders et s’étendit la nuit (mère) de la tristesse.
406 “Rauzah” in Algiers is a royal park; also a prairie, as “Rauz al-Sanájirah,” plain of the Sinjars: Ibn Khaldun, ii. 448.
407 The “Miskál” (for which see vols. i. 126; ix. 262) is the weight of a dinar = 1½ dirham = 71-72 grains avoir. A dose of 142 grains would kill a camel. In 1848, when we were marching up the Indus Valley under Sir Charles Napier to attack Náo Mall of Multan, the Sind Camel Corps was expected to march at the rate of some 50 miles a day, and this was done by making the animals more than half drunk with Bhang or Indian hemp.
408 In text, “Yakhat,” probably clerical error for “Yakhbut,” lit. = he was panting in a state of unconsciousness: see Dozy, Suppl. s. v.
409 In text “Al-Dán, which is I presume a clerical error for “Al-Uzn” = ear. [“Dán,” with the dual “Dánayn,” and “Wudn,” with the plural “Audán,” are popular forms for the literary “Uzn."— ST.]
410 This name has occurred in MS. p. 655, but it is a mere nonentity until p. 657 — the normal incuriousness. Heron dubs him “Rabir.”
411 In the text “Zimmat” = obligation, protection, clientship.
412 “Sahha ‘alakah” (=a something) “fí hazá ‘l-Amri.” The first word appears de trop being enclosed in brackets in the MS.
413 “Wa yabkí ‘alaykum Mabálu-h.” [For “Mabál” I would read “Wabál,” in the sense of crime or punishment, and translate: “lest the guilt of it rest upon you."— ST.)
414 In the text “Suwaydá” literally “a small and blackish woman”; and “Suwaydá al-Kalb” (the black one of the heart) = original sin, as we should say. [The diminutive of “Sayyid” would be “Suwayyid,” as “Kuwayyis” from “Kayyis,” and “Juwayyid” from “Jayyid” (comp. supra p. 3). “Suwayd” and “Suwaydá” are diminutives of “Aswad,” black, and its fem. “Saudá” respectively, meaning blackish. The former occurs in “Umm al-Suwayd” = anus. “Suwaydá al-Kalb” = the blackish drop of clotted blood in the heart, is synonymous with “Habbat al-Kalb” = the grain in the heart, and corresponds to our core of the heart. Metaphorically both are used for “original sin."— ST.]
415 “Yákah Thiyábish;” the former word being Turkish (M. Houdas).
416 Arab. “Kaunayn” = the two entities, this world and the other world, the past and the future, etc. Here it is opposed to “’A’lamína,” here ‘Awálim = the (three) worlds, for which see vol. ii. 236.
417 In text “Changul,” again written with a three-dotted Chím.
418 In text “Al-Mazrab” which M. Houdas translates cet endroit.
419 In text “Yabahh” = saying “Bah, Bah!”
420 In text “Bahr al-Azrak” = the Blue Sea, commonly applied to the Mediterranean: the origin of the epithet is readily understood by one who has seen the Atlantic or the Black Sea.
421 i.e. “The Stubborn,” “The Obstinate.”
422 In text “Al-Jawádit,” where M. Houdas would read “Al-Hawádith” which he renders by animaux fraîchement tués.
423 In the text “Kabad” = the liver, the sky-vault, the handle or grasp of a bow.
424 In the text “Míná” = a port both in old Egyptian and mod. Persian: see “Mitrahinna,” vol. ii. 257.
425 “Al-Nakáír,” plur. of “Nakír” = a dinghy, a dug-out.
426 For this “Pá-andáz,” as the Persians call it, see vol. iii. 141.
427 In text “Kataba Zayjata-há,” the word has before been noticed.
428 Again “Hizà bi-Zayjati-há” = le bonheur de ses aventures.
429 This impalement (“Salb,” which elsewhere means crucifying, vol. iii. 25) may be a barbarous punishment but it is highly cffective, which after all is its principal object. Old Mohammed Ali of Egypt never could have subjugated and disciplined the ferocious Badawi of Al-Asir, the Ophir region South of Al-Hijáz, without the free use of the stake. The banditti dared to die but they could not endure the idea of their bodies being torn to pieces and devoured by birds and beasts. The stake commonly called “Kházúk”, is a stout pole pointed at one end, and the criminal being thrown upon his belly is held firm whilst the end is passed up his fundament. His legs and body are then lashed to it and it is raised by degrees and planted in a hole already dug, an agonising part of the process. If the operation be performed by an expert who avoids injuring any mortal part, the wretch may live for three days suffering the pangs of thirst; but a drink of water causes hemorrhage and instant death. This was the case with the young Moslem student who murdered the excellent Marshal Kleber in the garden attached to Shepherd’s Hotel, Cairo, wherein, by the by, he suffered for his patriotic crime. Death as in crucifixion is brought on by cramps and nervous exhaustion, for which see Canon Farrar (Life of Christ, ii. 392 et seqq.).
Haykar’s precepts may be compared advantageously with those of other nations of the East and West (at a corresponding stage of civilisation) which, as a rule, follow very similar lines. Many of them find their parallels not only in Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, as we might reasonably expect, but even in the Havamál of the Elder Edda, respecting which Thorpe remarks in his translation (i. p. 36 note): “Odin is the ‘High One.’ The poem is a collection of rules and maxims, and stories of himself, some of them not very consistent with our ideas of a supreme deity.” The style of the Icelandic poem, and the manners of the period when it was composed, are of course as wide apart from those of Haykar as is Iceland from Syria, but human nature remains the same.
Pp. 22-24. — Two classes of subterfuges similar to those employed by Haykar are common in folk-tales. In one, the hero vanquishes, and generally destroys, his adversary (usually a giant) by imposing on his credulity, like Jack when he hid himself in a corner of the room, and left a faggot in his bed for the giant to belabour, and afterwards killed the giant by pretending to rip himself up, and defying the other to do the same. In other cases, the hero foils his opponents by subterfuges which are admitted to be just, but which are not intended actually to deceive, as in the devices by which the blind Shaykh instructs the merchant to baffle the sharpers, in one of the Sindibad stories (vol. vi., pp. 202-212, No. 135x., of our Table). In the present story Pharaoh was baffled by the superior cunning of Haykar but it is not made quite clear whether he actually believed in his power to build a castle in the air or not. However the story probably belongs to the second class.
P. 25. — Twisting ropes out of sand was a device by which Michael Scot baffled a devil for whom he had to find constant employment. (Cf. Scott’s “Lay of the Last Minstrel,” and notes.)
I believe the “Robber-Caliph” is sometimes played as a burlesque, for which it is well adapted. The parallel suggested between the Caliph and a robber may remind the reader of the interview between Alexander the Great and the Robber, in “Evenings at Home.” One cannot help sympathising with the disappointed young Merchant who acted as an informer, and feeling glad that he got off with a whole skin.
P. 34. — In some versions of this story Harun’s abstention from his bride for a year is attributed to a previous vow.
P. 46 and note 4. — This passage, relative to the character of the Caliph, may be compared with his forgetfulness respecting Nur Al-Din Ali and Anis Al-Jalis. (Vol. ii. p, 42, and note.)
This story, though much shorter, is very closely paralleled by that of Prince Calaf and the Princess of China, in the Thousand and One Days (cf. vol. x., App, pp. 499, 500) Prince Calaf (the son of the King of the Nogais Tartars) and his parents are driven from their kingdom by the Sultan of Carizme (Khwárizm), and take refuge with the Khan of Berlas, where the old King and Queen remain, while Calaf proceeds to China, where he engages in an intellectual contest with Princess Tourandocte (Turandot, i.e. Turándokht or Turan’s daughter). When Turandot is on the point of defeat, she sends her confidante, a captive princess, to Calaf, to worm out his secret (his own name). The confidante, who is herself in love with Calaf, horrifies him with the invention that Turandot intends to have him secretly assassinated; but although he drops his name in his consternation, he refuses to fly with his visitor. In the morning Turandot declares Calaf’s name to him but comforts him by saying that she has nevertheless determined to accept him as her husband, instead of cutting off his head; and the slave princess commits suicide. Messengers are then sent for Calaf’s parents, who arrive in company with the friendly Khan who had granted them an asylum; and Calaf marches against the Sultan of Carizme, who is defeated and slain, when his subjects readily submit to the conqueror.
P. 77. — According to Jewish tradition, the Rod of Moses became transformed into so terrible a dragon that the Egyptians took to flight, and 60,000 of them were slain in the press. —(Sale’s Koran, chap. 7, note.)
P. 77, note 4. — It was long denied that ants store up grain, because our English ants do not; but it is now well known that many foreign species, some of which inhabit countries bordering on the Mediterranean (including Palestine), store up large quantities of grass seeds in their nests; and one ant found in North America is said to actually cultivate a particular kind of grass.
P. 81, note 6. — Those interested in the question of the succession of the Patriarchs may refer to Joseph Jacobs’ article on “Junior-right in Genesis,”430 in which the writer argues that it was the original custom among the Hebrews, as among other nations, for the youngest son to succeed to his father’s estates, after the elder ones had already established themselves elsewhere. Much may be urged in favour of this writer’s conclusions, and it will be remembered that our own Monarchy was not recognised as hereditary until the time of the Conquest, the most able or the strongest relative of the late King usually succeeding to the Crown, and minors being always set aside, unless powerful politicians intended to use them as mere tools. In the Esthonian Kalevipoeg the system comes out still more strongly. Three sons are living at home at the time of the death of Kalev, but the youngest is designated by him as his successor, and is afterwards indicated by lot as the peculiar favourite of the gods.
P. 84, note 4. — Although it has nothing to do with the present story, yet I may point out the great importance of the bridle in all the folk-tales which deal with the transformation of human beings into domestic animals. It is clearly implied (though not actually expressed) in the story of Julnar the Sea Born (No. 153) that the power of Abdallah and Badr Basim over Queen Lab, while she bore the form of a mule, depended entirely on their keeping possession of the bridle (cf. Nights, vol. vii., p. 304, and note). There are many stories of magicians who transform themselves into horses, &c., for their friends to sell; but the bridle must on no account be given with the horse. Should this be neglected (purposely or otherwise) the magician is unable to reassume his human form at will. Cf. also Spitta-Bey’s story No. 1 (infrà).
430 Archaeological Review, July, 1888, pp. 331-342.
This story appears in Chavis and Cazotte’s version, and in the various translations made from the French, in a very highly elaborated form, under the title of “The Adventures of Simoustapha, and the Princess Ilsetilsone.” The Caliph and his Wazir are identified with Harun Al-Rashid and Ja’afar, but they suffer no transformations at the hands of the Magician after whose death Prince Simoustapha is protected by Setelpedour Ginatille, whose name is interpreted as meaning the Star of the Seven Seas, though the first name appears rather to be a corruption of Sitt El Bubúr. She is the queen of Ginnistan, and the daughter of Kokopilesobe (Satan), whose contests with Mahomet and Michael (the former of whom continues the conflict by “becoming man”) are described on the approved Miltonic lines. Her chief councillors are Bahlisboull (Beelzebub) and Asmonchar (Asmodeus), but ultimately she falls in love with Simoustapha, and adjures her sovereignty, after which he carries her off, and marries her, upon which the mother of Ilsetilsone, “the sensible Zobeide, formed now a much truer and more favourable judgment of her daughter’s happiness, since she had shared the heart of Simoustapha with Setelpedour, and at last agreed that the union of one man with two women might be productive of great happiness to all the three, provided that one of the wives happened to be a fairy.” (Weber, ii. p. 50.) A most encouraging sentiment for would-be polygamists, truly, especially in Europe, where fairies appear to fly before the advance of civilisation as surely as the wild beasts of the forest!
P. 99. — These apparitions resemble those which usually precede the visions which appear in the well-known pool of ink. But the sweeper is not mentioned in the present story, nor do I remember reading of his appearing in cases of crystal seeing, though Dante Gabriel Rossetti introduces him into his fine poem, “Rose Mary,” as preparing the way for the visions seen in the beryl:
“‘I see a man with a besom grey
That sweeps the flying dust away.’
‘Ay, that comes first in the mystic sphere;
But now that the way is swept and clear
Heed well what next you look on there.’”
P. 104, note 1. — Apropos of the importance of “three days,” I may refer to the “three days and three nights” which Christ is commonly said to have passed in the tomb, and I believe that some mystics assert that three days is the usual period required by a man to recover consciousness after death.
Pp. 106, 107. — These worked lions recall the exhibition of power made by Abu Mohammed hight Lazybones (No. 37; Nights, iv., p. 165). Their Oriental prototypes are probably the lions and eagles with which the Jinn ornamented the throne of Solomon. In the West, we meet with Southey’s amusing legend of the Pious Painter:
“‘Help, help, Blessed Mary,’ he cried in alarm,
As the scaffold sunk under his feet;
From the canvass the Virgin extended her arm;
She caught the good Painter; she saved him from harm;
There were hundreds who saw in the street.”
The enchanted palaces of the Firm Island, with their prodigies of the Hart and the Dogs, &c., may also be mentioned (Amadis of Gaul, book II., chap. 21, &c.).
Pp. 107, 108. — Stories of changed sex are not uncommon in Eastern and classical mythology and folk-lore; usually, as in this instance, the change of a man into a woman, although it is the converse (apparent, of course) which we meet with occasionally in modern medical books.
In the Nights, &c., we have the story of the Enchanted Spring (No. 135j) in the great Sindibad cyclus (Nights, vi., pp. 145-150), and Lane (Modern Egyptians, chap. xxv.) relates a story which he heard in Cairo more resembling that of the transformed Wazir. In classical legend we have the stories of Tiresias, Cæneus, and Iphis. Turning to India, we meet with the prototype of Cæneus in Amba, who was reincarnated as Sikhandin, in order to avenge herself on Bhishma, and subsequently exchanged her sex with a Yaksha, and became a great warrior (Mahabharata Udyoga-Parva, 5942-7057). Some of the versions of the Enchanted Spring represent the Prince as recovering his sex by an exchange with a demon, thus showing a transition from the story of Sikhandin to later replicas. There is also a story of changed sex in the Hindi Baital Pachisí; and no doubt many others might be quoted.
One of the most curious stories relative to the escape of a captured prey is to be found in the 5th Canto of the Finnish Kalevala. Väinäimöinen, the old minstrel, is fishing in the lake where his love, Aino, has drowned herself, because she would not marry an old man. He hooks a salmon of very peculiar appearance, and while he is speculating about cutting it up and cooking it, it leaps from the boat into the water, and then reproaches him with his folly, telling him that it is Aino (now transformed into a water-nymph) who threw herself in his way to be his life-companion, but that owing to his folly in proposing to eat her, he has now lost her for ever. Hereupon she disappears, and all his efforts to rediscover her are fruitless.
P. 138, note 6. — I may add that an episode is inserted in the Europeanised version of this story, relative to the loves of the son of Chebib and the Princess of Herak, which is evidently copied from the first nocturnal meeting of Kamaralzaman and Budur (No. 21, Nights, iii., pp. 223-242), and is drawn on exactly similar lines (Weber, i. pp. 508-510).
P. 197, note 1. — Epithets of colour, as applied to seas, frequently have a purely mythological application in Eastern tales. Thus, in the story of Zaher and Ali (cf. my “New Arabian Nights,” p. 13) we read, “You are now upon an island of the Black Sea, which encompasses all other seas, and flows within Mount Kaf. According to the reports of travellers, it is a ten years’ voyage before you arrive at the Blue Sea, and it takes full ten years to traverse this again to reach the Green Sea, after which there is another ten years’ voyage before you can reach the Greek Sea, which extends to inhabited countries and islands.”
Kenealy says (in a note to his poem on “Night”) that the Atlantic Ocean is called the Sea of Darkness, on account of the great irruption of water which occasioned its formation; but this is one of his positive statements relative to facts not generally known to the world, for which he considered it unnecessary to quote his authority.
P. 200. — According to one account of impalement which I have seen, the stake is driven through the flesh of the back beneath the skin.
Reading the account of the Crucifixion between the lines, I have come to the conclusion that the sudden death of Christ was due to his drinking from the sponge which had just been offered to him. The liquid, however, is said to have been vinegar, and not water; but this might have had the same effect, or water may have been substituted, perhaps with the connivance of Pilate. In the latter case vinegar may only have been mentioned as a blind, to deceive the fanatical Jews. The fragmentary accounts of the Crucifixion which have come down to us admit of many possible interpretations of details.
N.B. — The Roman numerals denote the volume, the Arabic the page. [The Arabic numerals have been discarded]
Abbaside, Ja’afar bin Yahya and Abd Al-Malik bin Salih the, i.
Abd Al-Malik bin Salih the Abbaside, Ja’afar bin Yahya and, i.
Abdullah bin Nafí’, Tale of Harun Al-Rashid and, ii.
Abu Niyattayn, History of Abu Niyyah and, iv.
Abu Niyyah and Abu Niyyatayn, History of, iv.
Abu Sabir, Story of, i.
Abu Tammam, Story of Aylan Shah and, i.
Advantages of Patience, Of the, i.
Adventure of the Fruit Seller and the Concubine, iv.
Adventures of Khudadad and his Brothers, iii.
Adventures of Prince Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-Banu, iii.
Al-‘Abbás, Tale of King Ins bin Kays and his daughter with the Son of King, ii.
Alaeddin, or the Wonderful Lamp, iii.
Al-Bundukani, or the Caliph Harun Al-Rashid and the daughter of King Kisra, vi.
Al-Hajjaj and the Three Young Men, i.
Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the Young Sayyid, History of, v.
Al-Hayfa and Yusuf, The Loves of, v.
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, Story of, iii.
Ali Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad, Story of, iii.
Allah, Of the Speedy relief of, i.
Allah, Of Trust in, i.
Al-Maamun and Zubaydah, i.
Al-Maamun, The Concubine of, ii.
Al-Malik Al-Zahir Rukn Al-Din Bibars al-Bundukdari and the Sixteen Captains of Police, ii.
Al-Nu’uman and the Arab of the Banu Tay, i.
Al-Rahwan, King Shah Bakht and his Wazir, i.
Al-Rashid and the Barmecides, i.
Al-Rashid, Ibn Al-Sammak and, i.
Appointed Term, which, if it be Advanced may not be Deferred, and if it be Deferred, may not be Advanced, Of the,
i.
Arab of the Banu Tay, Al-Nu’uman and the, i.
Ass, Tale of the Sharpers with the Shroff and the, i.
Attaf, The Tale of, vi.
Attaf, The Tale of, (by Alex. J. Cotheal), vi.
Aylan Shah and Abu Tammam, Story of, i.
Baba Abdullah, Story of the Blind Man, iii.
Babe, History of the Kazi who bare a, iv.
Bakhtzaman, Story of King, i.
Banu Tay, Al-Nu’uman and the Arab of the, i.
Barber and the Captain, The Cairenne Youth, the, v.
Barber’s Boy and the Greedy Sultan, Story of the Darwaysh and the, v.
Barmecides, Al-Rashid and the, i.
Barmecides,. Harun Al-Rashid and the Woman of the, i.
Beautiful Daughter to the Poor Old Man, Tale of the Richard who married his, i.
Bhang-Eater and his Wife, History of the, iv.
Bhang-Eater,. Tale of the Kazi and the, iv.
Bihkard, Story of King, i.
Blind Man, Baba Abdullah, Story of the, iii.
Broke-Back Schoolmaster, Story of the, iv.
Cadette, Tale of the Two Sisters who envied their, iii.
Cairenne Youth, the Barber and the Captain, The, v.
Cairo (The good wife of) and her four gallants, v.
Caliph Harun Al-Rashid and the daughter of King Kisra, The History of Al-Bundukam or the, vi.
Caliph Omar Bin Abd Al-Aziz and the Poets, The, i.
Caliph’s Night Adventure, History of the, iii.
Caliph, The Concubine and the, ii.
Captain, The Cairenne Youth, the Barber and the, v.
Captain, The Tailor and the Lady and the, v.
Cheat and the Merchants, Tale of the, i.
China, The Three Princes of, v.
Clemency, Of, i.
Clever Thief, A Merry Jest of a, ii.
Cock and the Fox, The pleasant history of the, vi.
Cœlebs the droll and his wife and her four Lovers, v.
Compeer, Tale of the Two Sharpers who each cozened his, i.
Concubine, Adventure of the Fruit Seller and the, iv.
Concubine and the Caliph, The, ii.
Concubine of Al-Maamun, The, ii.
Constable’s History, First, ii.
Constable’s History, Second, ii.
Constable’s History, Third, ii.
Constable’s History, Fourth, ii.
Constable’s History, Fifth, ii.
Constable’s History, Sixth, ii.
Constable’s History, Seventh, ii.
Constable’s History, Eighth, ii.
Constable’s History, Ninth, ii.
Constable’s History, Tenth, ii.
Constable’s History, Eleventh, ii.
Constable’s History, Twelfth, ii.
Constable’s History, Thirteenth, ii.
Constable’s History, Fourteenth, ii.
Constable’s History, Fifteenth, ii.
Constable’s History, Sixteenth, ii.
Cook, Story of the Larrikin and the, i.
Coyntes, The Lady with the two, v.
Crone and the Draper’s Wife, Story of the, i.
Crone and the King, Tale of the Merchant, the, i.
Cunning She-thief, The Gate Keeper of Cairo and the, v.
Dadbin and his Wazirs, Story of King, i.
Darwaysh and the Barber’s Boy and the Greedy Sultan, Story of the, v.
Darwaysh, The Sultan who fared forth in the habit of a, iv.
Daryabar, History of the Princess of, iii.
Daughter of King Kisra, The History of Al-Bundukani, or the Caliph Harun Al-Rashid and the, vi.
David and Solomon, Story of, i.
Destiny or that which is written on the Forehead, i.
Dethroned Ruler, whose reign and wealth were restored to him, Tale of the, i.
Devotee accused of Lewdness, Tale of the, i.
Disciple’s Story, The, i.
Druggist, Tale of the Singer and the, i.
Drummer Abu Kasim became a Kazi, How, iv.
Duenna and the King’s Son, The Linguist-Dame, the, vi.
Eighth Constable’s History, ii.
Eleventh Constable’s History, ii.
Enchanting Bird, Story of the King of Al-Yaman and his Three Sons, and the, iv.
Enchanting Bird, Tale of the Sultan and his Three Sons and the, iv.
Ends of Affairs, Of Looking to the, i.
Envy and Malice, Of, i.
Fairy Peri-Banu, Adventures of Prince Ahmad and the, iii.
Falcon and the Locust, Story of the, i.
Fellah and his Wicked Wife, The, v.
Fifteenth Constable’s History, ii.
Fifth Constable’s History, ii.
First Constable’s History, ii.
First Larrikin, History of the, iv.
First Lunatic, Story of the, iv.
Firuz and his Wife, i.
Fisherman and his Son, Tale of the, iv.
Forehead, Of Destiny or that which is Written on the, i.
Forty Thieves, Story of Ali Baba and the, iii.
Fourteenth Constable’s History, ii.
Fourth Constable’s History, ii.
Fowl with the Fowler, History of what befel the, vi.
Fox, The Pleasant History of the Cock and the, vi.
Fruit seller and the Concubine, Adventure of the, iv.
Fruit seller’s Tale, The, iv.
Fuller and his Wife and the Trooper, Tale of the, i.
Gallants, The Goodwife of Cairo and her Four, v.
Gatekeeper of Cairo and the Cunning She-thief, The, v.
Girl, Tale of the Hireling and the, i.
Good and Evil Actions, Of the Issues of, i.
Goodwife of Cairo and her Four Gallants, The, v.
Greedy Sultan, Story of the Darwaysh and the Barber’s Boy and the, v.
Hajjaj (Al-) and the Three Young Men, i.
Harun Al-Rashid and Abdullah bin Nafí’, Tale of, ii.
Harun Al-Rashid and the Woman of the Barmecides, i.
Harun Al-Rashid and the Youth Manjab, Night Adventure of, v.
Harun Al-Rashid Tale of the Damsel Tohfat al-Kulub and the Caliph, ii.
Haykar the Sage, The Say of, vi.
History of King Azadbakht and his Son, The Ten Wazirs; or the, i.
History of what befel the Fowl with the Fowler, vi.
Hireling and the Girl, Tale of the, i.
How Allah gave him relief, Story of the Prisoner and, i.
How Drummer Abu Kasim became a Kazi, iv.
Husband, Tale of the Simpleton, v.
Ibn al-Sammak and Al-Rashid, i.
Ibrahim and his Son, Story of, i.
Ill Effects of Impatience, Of the, i.
Impatience, Of the Ill Effects of, i.
Ins bin Kays (King) and his Daughter with the Son of King Al-‘Abbás, Tale of, ii.
Isa, Tale of the Three Men and our Lord, i.
Issues of Good and Evil Actions, Of the, i.
Ja’afar bin Yahya and Abd Al-Malik bin Salih the Abbaside, i.
Kazi and the Bhang-Eater, Tale of the, iv.
Kazi and the Slipper, Story of the, iv.
Kazi, How Drummer Abu Kasim became a, iv.
Kazi schooled by his Wife, The, v.
Kazi who bare a babe, History of the, iv.
Khalbas and his Wife and the Learned Man, Tale of the, i.
Khudadad and his Brothers, Adventures of, iii.
Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal, History of, iii.
King and his Chamberlain’s Wife, Tale of the, i.
King Azadbakht and his Son, The Ten Wazirs; or the History of, i.
King Bakhtzaman, Story of, i.
King Bihkard, Story of, i.
King Dadbin and his Wazirs, Story of, i.
King Ibrahim and his Son, Story of, i.
King of Al-Yaman and his Three Sons and the Enchanting Bird, Story of the, iv.
King of Hind and his Wazir, Tale of, i.
King Shah Bakht and his Wazir Al-Rahwan, i.
King Sulayman Shah and his Niece, Story of, i.
King Tale of himself told by the, v.
King Tale of the Merchant, the Crone and the, i.
King who kenned the quintessence of things, Tale of the, i.
King who lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth and Allah restored them to him, Tale of the, i.
King’s Son of Sind and the Lady Fatimah, The History of, v.
King’s Son, The Linguist-Dame, the Duenna and the, vi.
Kurd Sharper, Tale of Mahmud the Persian and the, iv.
Lady and the Captain, The Tailor and the, v.
Lady Durrat al-Ghawwas, History of Prince Habib and what befel him with the, vi.
Lady Fatimah, The History of the King’s Son of Sind and the, v.
Lady with the two Coyntes, The, v.
Larrikin and the Cook, Story of the, i.
Larrikin concerning himself, Tale of the Third, iv.
Larrikin History of the First, iv.
Larrikin History of the Second, iv.
Larrikin History of the Third, iv.
Leach (Tale of the Weaver who became a), by order of his wife, i.
Learned Man, Tale of Khalbas and his Wife and the, i.
Lewdness, Tale of the Devotee accused of, i.
Limping Schoolmaster, Story of the, iv.
Linguist-Dame, the Duenna, and the King’s Son, The, vi.
Locust, Story of the Falcon and the, i.
Looking to the Ends of Affairs, Of, i.
Lovers, Cœlebs the Droll and his wife and her four, v.
Lovers of Syria, History of the, v.
Loves of Al-Hayfa and Yusuf, The, v.
Luck, Story of the Merchant who lost his, i.
Lunatic, Story of the First, iv.
Lunatic, Story of the Second, iv.
Mahmud the Persian and the Kurd Sharper, Tale of, iv.
Man of Khorassan, his Son and his Tutor, Tale of the, i.
Man whose Caution slew him, Tale of the, i.
Man who was Lavish of his House, and his Provision for one whom he knew not, i.
Malice, Of Envy and, i.
Melancholist and the Sharper, Tale of the, i.
Merchant and his Sons, Tale of the, i.
Merchant of Baghdad, Story of Ali Khirajah and the, iii.
Merchant’s Daughter and the Prince of Al-Irak, The, v.
Merchants, Tale of the Cheat and the, i.
Merchant, the Crone and the King, Tale of the, i.
Merchant who lost his luck, Story of the, i.
Merry Jest of a Clever Thief, A, ii.
Mistress and his Wife, Mohammed the Shalabi and his, v.
Mohammed, Story of a Sultan of Al-Hind and his Son, iv.
Mohammed Sultan of Cairo, History of, iv.
Mohammed the Shalabi and his Mistress and his Wife, v.
Mohsin and Musa, Tale of, v.
Musa, Tale of Mohsin and, v.
Niece, Story of King Sulayman Shah and his, i.
Night Adventure of Sultan Mohammed of Cairo with the Three Foolish Schoolmasters, The, iv.
Night Adventure of Harun Al-Rashid and the Youth Manjab, v.
Ninth Constable’s History, ii.
Nur al-Din Ali of Damascus and the damsel Sitt al-Milah, ii.
Omar Bin Abd Al-Aziz and the Poets, The Caliph, i.
Patience, Of the advantages of, i.
Persistent Ill Fortune, Of the Uselessness of Endeavor against the, i.
Picture, Tale of the Prince who fell in love with the, i.
Pleasant History of the Cock and the Fox, The, vi.
Poets, The Caliph Omar Bin Abd Al-Aziz and the, i.
Poor man who brought to him Fruit, Tale of the Sultan and the, iv.
Poor old man, Tale of the Richard who married his beautiful Daughter to the, i.
Prince Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-Banu, Adventures of, iii.
Prince Bihzad, Story of, i.
Prince Habib and what befel him with the Lady Durrat al-Ghawwas, History of, vi.
Prince of Al-Irak, The Merchant’s Daughter and the, v.
Princess of Daryabar, History of, iii.
Prince who fell in love with the Picture, Tale of the, i.
Prisoner and how Allah gave him relief, Story of, i.
Quintessence of things, Tale of the King who kenned the, i.
Richard, Tale of the, who married his beautiful daughter to the Poor Old Man, i.
Righteous Wazir wrongfully gaoled, The, v.
Robber and the Woman, Tale of the, i.
Sage and his Three Sons, Tale of the, i.
Sage and the Scholar, Story of the, iv.
Salim the Youth of Khorasan, and Salma, his Sister, Tale of, i.
Salma, his Sister, Tale of Salim the Youth of Khorasan and, i,
Say of Haykar the Sage, The, vi.
Scholar, Story of the Sage and the, iv.
Schoolmaster, Story of the Broke-Back, iv.
Schoolmaster, Story of the Limping, iv.
Schoolmaster, Story of the Split-mouthed, iv.
Second Constable’s History, ii.
Second Larrikin, History of the, iv.
Second Lunatic, Story of the, iv.
Seventh Constable’s History, ii.
Shah Bakht and his Wazir Al-Rahwan, King, i.
Sharpers with the Shroff and the Ass, Tale of the, i.
Sharper, Tale of the Melancholist and the, i.
Sharper, Tale of the old, ii.
Shroff and the Ass, Tale of the Sharpers with the, i.
Sidi Nu’uman, History of, iii.
Singer and the Druggist, Tale of the, i.
Simpleton Husband, Tale of the, i.
Simpleton Husband, Tale of the, v.
Sitt al-Milah, Nur al-Din Ali of Damascus and the Damsel, ii.
Sixteen Captains of Police, Al-Malik Al-Zahir Rukn Al-Din Bibars al-Bundukdari and the, ii.
Sixteenth Constable’s History, ii.
Sixth Constable’s History, ii.
Sleeper and the Waker, The, i.
Slipper, Story of the Kazi and the, iv.
Solomon, Story of David and, i.
Sons, Tale of the Merchant and his, i.
Speedy relief of Allah, Of the, i.
Split-mouthed Schoolmaster, Story of the, iv.
Sulayman Shah and his Niece, Story of King, i.
Sultanah, Story of three Sisters and their Mother the, iv.
Sultan and his Three Sons and the Enchanting Bird, Tale of the, iv.
Sultan and the Poor Man who brought to him Fruit, Tale of the, iv.
Sultan Mohammed of Cairo with the Three Foolish Schoolmasters, The Night Adventure of, iv.
Sultan of Al-Hind and his Son Mohammed, Story of the, iv.
Sultan of Al-Yaman and his Three Sons, Story of, iv.
Sultan who fared forth in the habit of a Darwaysh, The, iv.
Syria, History of the Lovers of, v.
Syrian and the Three Women of Cairo, The, v.
Tailor and the Lady and the Captain, The, v.
Tale of Himself told by the King, v.
Tenth Constable’s History, ii.
Ten Wazirs; or, the History of King Azadbakht and his Son, The, i.
Thief’s Tale, The, ii.
Third Constable’s History, ii.
Third Larrikin concerning himself, Tale of, iv.
Third Larrikin, History of the, iv.
Thirteenth Constable’s History, ii.
Three Foolish Schoolmasters, The Night Adventure of Sultan Mohammed of Cairo with the, iv.
Three men and our Lord Isa, Tale of the, i.
Three Princes of China, The, v.
Three Sharpers, Story of the, iv.
Three Sisters and their Mother the Sultanah, Story of the, iv.
Three Sons, Tale of the Sage and his, i.
Three Women of Cairo, The Syrian and the, v.
Three Young Men, Al-Hajjaj and the, i.
Tither, Tale of the Unjust King and the, i.
Tohfat al-Kulub and the Caliph Harun Al-Rashid, Tale of the Damsel, ii.
Trooper, Tale of the Fuller and his wife and the, i.
Trust in Allah, Of, i.
Tutor, Tale of the Man of Khorassan, his Son and his, i.
Twelfth Constable’s History, ii.
Two Kings and the Wazir’s daughters, Tale of the, ii.
Two Lack-Tacts of Cairo and Damascus, Story of the, v.
Two Sharpers who each cozened his Compeer, Tale of the, i.
Two Sisters who envied their Cadette, Tale of the, iii.
Ugly man and his beautiful Wife, Tale of the, i.
Unjust King and the Tither, Tale of the, i.
Uselessness of Endeavour against the Persistent Ill Fortune, Of the, i.
Virtue, The whorish wife who vaunted her, v.
Waker, The Sleeper and the, i.
Warlock and the Young Cook of Baghdad, Tale of the, vi.
Wazir Al Rahwan, King Shah Bakht and his, i.
Wazir, Tale of the King of Hind and his, i.
Wazir, (The Righteous) wrongfully gaoled, v.
Wazir’s Daughters, Tale of the Two Kings and the, ii.
Wazirs; or the History of King Azadbakht and his Son, The Ten, i.
Wazirs, Story of King Dadbin and his, i.
Weaver who became a Leach by order of his wife, Tale of the, i.
Whorish wife who vaunted her virtue, The, v.
Wicked wife, The Fellah and his, v.
Wife, Firuz and his, i.
Wife, History of the Bhang Eater and his, iv.
Wife, Story of the Crone and the Draper’s, i.
Wife, Tale of the King and his Chamberlain’s, i.
Wife, Tale of the Ugly man and his beautiful, i.
Wife, Tale of the Weaver who became a Leach by order of his, i.
Wife, The Kazi schooled by his, v.
Wives, Story of the Youth who would futter his father’s, v.
Woman of the Barmecides, Harun Al-Rashid and the, i.
Woman, Tale of the Robber and the, i.
Woman who humoured her lover at her husband’s expense, The, v.
Women’s Wiles, ii.
Wonderful Lamp, Alaeddin; or the, iii.
Young Cook of Baghdad, Tale of the Warlock and the, vi.
Young Sayyid, History of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the, v.
Youth Manjab, Night Adventure of Harun Al-Rashid and the, v.
Youth who would futter his father’s wives, Story of the, v.
Yusuf, The Loves of Al-Hayfa and, v.
Zayn al-Asnam, Tale of, iii.
Zubaydah, Al-Maamun and, i.
Aladdin; or the Wonderful Lamp, iii.
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, iii.
Ali Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad, iii.
Al Malik Al-Zahir and the Sixteen Captains of Police, ii.
Blind Man, Baba Abdullah, The Story of the, iii.
Damsel Tuhfat al-Kulub, The, ii.
Devout woman accused of Lewdness, The, ii.
Fifteenth Constable’s Story, The, ii.
Firuz and his Wife, ii.
Fuller, his Wife and the Trooper, The, ii.
Khudadad and his Brothers, iii.
Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal, History of, iii.
King Aylan Shah and Abu Tammam, ii.
King Dadbin and his Wazirs, ii.
King Ins bin Kays and his Daughter, ii.
King Shah Bakht and his Wazir Al-Rahwan, ii.
King Sulayman Shah and his Niece, ii.
King who kenned the Quintessence of things, The, ii.
King who lost Kingdom, Wife and Wealth, The, ii.
Melancholist and the Sharper, The, ii.
Ninth Constable’s Story, The, ii.
Nur al-Din and the Damsel Sitt al-Milah, ii.
On the Art of Enlarging Pearls, ii.
Prince Ahmad and the Peri Banu, iii.
Prince who fell in love with the Picture, The, ii.
Sidi Nu’man, History of, iii.
Simpleton Husband, The, ii.
Singer and the Druggist; The, ii.
Sleeper and the Waker, ii.
Ten Wazirs, or the History of King Azadbakht and his son, ii.
Thief’s Tale, The, ii.
Three men and our Lord Isa, The, ii.
Two Sisters who envied their Cadette, The, iii.
Weaver who became a leach by order of his wife, The, ii.
Women’s Wiles, ii.
Zayn al-Asnarn, The tale of, iii.
Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp, iii.
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, iii.
Firuz and his Wife, ii.
Fuller, his wife and the Trooper, The, ii.
Prince Ahmad, The Tale of, iii.
Singer and the Druggist, The, ii.
Zayn al-Asnam, The Tale of, iii.
Additional Notes to some of Tales in vol. iv.; v.
Additional Notes to some of Tales in vol. v.; v.
Additional Notes to some of Tales in vol. vi.; vi.
Additional Bibliographical Notes to the Tales in the Supplemental Nights, vi.
Herewith I add notes on any works of importance which I had not seen when my “Contributions” were published, or which have appeared since.
One of the most important works which has appeared lately in connection with the Thousand and One Nights, is the following:
Histoire d’ ‘Alâ Al-Dîn ou la Lampe Merveilleuse. Texte Arabe publié avec une notice sur quelques manuscrits des Mille et une Nuits par H. Zotenberg, roy. 8vo. Paris, Imprimérie Nationale, 1888
The publication of this work puts an end to the numerous conjectures of scholars as to the source of Galland’s unidentified tales; and the notes on various MSS. of the Nights are also very valuable. It therefore appears desirable to give a tolerably full sketch of the contents of the book.431
M. Zotenberg begins with general remarks, and passes on to discuss Galland’s edition. [Section I.]— Although Galland frequently speaks of Oriental tales432, in his journal, kept at Constantinople in 1672 and 1673, yet as he informs us, in his Dedication to the Marquise d’O., he only succeeded in obtaining from Syria a portion of the MS. of the Nights themselves with considerable difficulty after his return to France.
There is some doubt as to the date of appearance of the first 6 vols. of Galland’s “Mille et une Nuit.” According to Caussin de Perceval, vols. 1 and 2 were published together in 1704, and vols. 3 and 4 in the course of the same year. Nevertheless, in the copy in the Bibliothèque Nationale, vols. 1 and 4 are dated 1704, and vols. 2, 5 and 6 are dated 1705; vol. 3 is missing, just as we have only odd volumes of the 2nd, 3rd and 4th English editions in the British Museum, the 1st being still quite unknown.
M. Zotenberg proceeds to give an account of Galland’s MS. (cf. Nights, x. App., p. 414), and illustrates it by a specimen page in facsimile. Judging from the character of the writing, &c., he considers it to have been transcribed about the second half of the 14th century (Sir R. F. Burton suggests about A.D. 1384). It is curious that there is a MS. of the 15th century in the Library of the Vatican, which appears to be almost a counterpart of Galland’s, and likewise contains only the first 282 Nights. Galland’s MS. wants a leaf extending from part of Night 102 to the beginning of Night 104, and containing an account of the Hunchback and his buffooneries; this hiatus is filled up in the Vatican MS.
Habìcht’s version is noted as more approaching Galland’s MS. than do the texts founded on the Egyptian texts; but in thus speaking, Zotenberg does not notice the assertion that Habìcht’s MS., though obtained at Tunis, came originally from Egypt. He considers the ordinary Egyptian texts to be generally abridged and condensed.
Although it is clear that Galland made great use of this MS. for his translation, yet M. Zotenberg points out numerous discrepancies, especially those at the commencement of the work, which led Caussin de Perceval to regard Galland’s work as a mere paraphrase of the original. M. Zotenberg, however (p. 14), writes, “Evidemment, Galland, pour la traduction du commencement du rècit, à suivi un texte plus developpé que celui du MS. 1508, texte dont la rédaction égyptienne ne presente qu’un maladroit abrégé.” He quotes other instances which seem to show that Galland had more than one text at his disposal.
[Section II.]— At the beginning of the 17th century, only two MSS. of the Nights existed in the libraries of Paris, one in Arabic, and the other in Turkish. The Arabic MS. contains 870 Nights, and is arbitrarily divided into 29 sections. M. Zotenberg considers that it was to this MS. that Galland referred, when he said that the complete work was in 36 parts The tales follow the order of our Table as far as No. 7 (Nos. 2ab, 2ac and 3ba are wanting), the remainder are irregular, and run as follows: 153, 154, 154a, 20; story of Khailedján ibn Háman, the Persian; Story of the Two Old Men, and of Báz al-Aschbáb Abou Lahab; 9, apparently including as episodes 9a, 9aa, 21, 8, 9b, 170, 181r to 181bb 137, 154 (commencement repeated), 181u to 181bb (repeated), 135a, Adventures of a traveller who entered a pond (étang) and underwent metamorphoses:433 anecdotes and apothegms; a portion of the Kalila and Dimna?
The Turkish MS. (in 11 vols.) is made up of several imperfect copies, which have been improperly put together. The bulk is formed by vols. 2-10 which are written in three different hands, and some of which bear date 1046 A.H. The contents of these nine vols. are as follows: Introduction and 1-3 (wanting 2ab), Story of ‘Abdallah of Basra, 5; Story of ‘Attáf ibn Ismá‘il al-Schoqláni of Damascus and the schaikh Abou-‘l-Baraka al-Nawwám, 6; Story told by the Christian Merchant (relating to Qamar al-Zamán during the reign of Sultan Mahmoud, and different from the story known under this title); Story of Ahmad al- Saghir (the tattle) and Schams al-Qosour; Story of the Young Man of Baghdad and the Bathman (Baigneur, attendant in a Hammam), 7; 153; 21; Story of Khaledjan ibn Maháni; Story of Nour al-Din ‘All and of Dounya (or Dinar) of Damascus, 133, Story of Prince Qamar-Khan and of the schaikh ‘Ate, of the Sultan Mahmoud-Khán, of Bahrám-Scháh, of ‘Abdallah ibn Hilal, of Harout and Marout, &c.; Story of Qowwat al-Qoloub; 9, including as episodes 9a; 8; Story of Moubaref who slept in the bath; (? = 96); and 170; Fables.
The other volumes (1 and 11 of the MS.) both contain the beginning of the MS. Vol. I was written towards the end of the 17th century, and extends about as far as Night 55, concluding with No. 7, which follows No. 3. Vol. 11., which once belonged to Galland, includes only a portion of the Introduction. The text of these two fragments is similar, but differs considerably from that of vol. 2 of the MS.; and specimens of the commencement of vols. 1 and 2 are given to show this. Yet it is singular that Galland does not seem to have used these Turkish volumes; and the second MS. which he actually used, like the 4th vol. of the copy preserved in the Bibliothèque Nationale, appears to be missing.
M. Zotenberg then remarks on the missing vol. 4 of Galland, and quotes extracts from Galland’s Diary, strewing that Nos. 191, 192 and 192a, which were surreptitiously introduced into his work without his knowledge, and greatly to his annoyance, were translated by Petis de la Croix, and were probably intended to be included in the Thousand and One Days, which was published in 1710.
[Section III.]— This is one of the most important in the book, in which extracts from Galland’s Diary of 1709 are quoted, shewing that he was then in constant communication with a Christian Maronite of Aleppo, named Hanna (Jean), who was brought to Paris by the traveller Paul Lucas, and who related stories to Galland, of which the latter took copious notes, and most of which he worked up into the later volumes of his “Mille et une Nuit” (sic). Among these were 193, 194a, 194b, 59, 197, 198, 174, 195, 194c, 196. The following tales he did not use: An Arab story of two cousins, Camar eddin and Bedr el Bodour; the Golden City (another version of the story of the Three Princes, in No. 198, combined with the story of the woman who slew pretenders who were unable to solve a riddle); The Three Princes, the Genius Morhagian, and his Daughters; and the story of the seller of ptisanne (or diet-drinks) and his son Hassan.
Further extracts from Galland’s Diary are added, extending from the time of Hanna’s departure from Paris between June and October, 1709, and the completion of the 12th volume of the Mille et une Nuit in 1712. These relate to the gradual progress of the work; and to business in connection with it; and Hanna’s name is occasionally mentioned.
Hanna supplied Galland with a written version of No. 193, and probably of 194 a-c; (i.e. most of the tales in vol. 9 and 10); but the tales in vols. 11 and 12 were apparently edited by Galland from his notes and recollections of Hanna’s narrations. These are Nos. 195, 196, 59, 197 and 198. M. Zotenberg concludes that Hanna possessed a MS. containing all these tales, part of which he copied for Galland, and that this copy, like several other important volumes which Galland is known or believed to have possessed, was lost. M. Zotenberg thinks that we may expect to meet with most of Hanna’s tales either in other copies of the Nights, or in some other collection of the same kind. The latter supposition appears to me to be by far the most probable.
[Section IV.]— M. Zotenberg proceeds to give an account of one or two very important MSS. of the Nights in the Bibliothèque Nationale. One of these is a MS. which belonged to the elder Caussin, and was carefully copied by Michael Sabbagh from a MS. of Baghdad. Prof. Fleischer, who examined it, states (Journal Asiatique, 1827, t. II., p. 221) that it follows the text of Habicht, but in a more developed form. M. Zotenberg copies a note at the end, finishing up with the word “Kabíkaj” thrice repeated. This, he explains, “est le nom du génie préposé au régne des insectes. Les scribes, parfois, l’invoquent pour preserver leurs manuscrits de l’atteinte de vers.”
This MS. was copied in Parts on European paper at the beginning of the century, though Caussin de Perceval was not acquainted with it in 1806, but only with a MS. of the Egyptian redaction. This MS. agrees with Galland’s only as far as the 69th Night. It differs from it in two other points; it contains No. 1c, and the end of No. 3 coincides with the end of Night 69. The contents of Nights 70-1001 are as follows: 246, 4, 5, 6, 20, 7, 153, 21, 170, 247, The Unhappy Lover confined in the Madhouse (probably = 204c), 8, 191, 193,174, 9, 9b (not 9a, or 9aa) and as episodes, 155, 32, and the story of the two brothers ‘Amír and Ghadir, and their children Djamil and Bathina.
Another MS., used by Chavis and Cazotte, and Caussin de Perceval, was written in the year 1772. It has hitherto been overlooked, because it was erroneously stated in the late M. Reinaud’s Catalogue to be a MS. containing part of the 1001 Nights, extending from Night 282 to Night 631, and copied by Chavis. It is not from Chavis’ hand, and does not form part of the ordinary version of the Nights, but contains the following tales: 174, 248, Story of King Sapor, 246, 3a, 36, 3c, 153, Story of the Intendant, the Interpreter, and the Young Man; 247, 204c, 240, 250, Story of the Caliph and the Fisherman (probably = 156), the Cat and the Fox, and the Little Bird and the Fowler.
Another MS., really written by Chavis, commences exactly where Vol. 3 of Galland’s MS leaves off, i. e. in the middle of No. 21, and extends from Night 281 to Night 631. M. Zotenberg supposes it to have been written to supply the place of the last volume of Galland’s set. It contains the following tales in addition to the conclusion of No. 21: 170, 247, 204c, 8, 191, 193 and 174. M. Zotenberg suggests that the first part of this MS may have been copied from Galland’s last volume, which may have existed at the time in private hands.
The two last MSS. contain nearly the same tales, though with numerous variations.
M. Zotenberg discusses the hypothesis of Chavis’ MS. being a translation from the French, and definitely rejects it.
[Section V.]— Here M. Zotenberg discusses the MSS. of the Nights in general, and divides them into three categories. 1. MSS. proceeding from Muslim parts of Asia. These, except the MSS. of Michael Sabbagh and that of Chavis, contain only the first part of the work. They are all more or less incomplete, and stop short in the middle of the text. They are not quite uniform, especially in their readings, but generally contain the same tales arranged in the same order. II. Recent MSS. of Egyptian origin, characterised by a special style, and a more condensed narrative; by the nature and arrangement of the tales, by a great number of anecdotes and fables; and by the early part of the work containing the great romance of chivalry of King Omar Bin Al-Nu’uman. III. MSS. mostly of Egyptian origin, differing as much among themselves in the arrangement of the tales as do those of the other groups.
The following MSS. are mentioned as belonging to the first group:—
Galland’s MS. in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Nos. 1506-1508.
MS. in the Vatican, No. 782.
Dr. Russell’s MS. from Aleppo.
MS. in the Bibl. Nat. (Suppl. 1715, I and II.).
MS. in the Library of Christ Church College, Oxford (No. ccvii.).
MS. in the Library of the India Office, London (No. 2699).
Sir W. Jones’ MS., used by Richardson.
Rich’s MS. in the Library of the British Museum (Addit. 7404).
MS. in Bibl. Nat. (Suppl. 2522 and 2523) X. MS. in Bibl. Nat. (Suppl. 1716).
The following MSS. are enumerated as belonging to the second group:—
Salt’s MS. (printed in Calcutta in 4 vols.).
— IV. Three complete MSS. in Bibliothèque Nationale (Suppl. Arabe, Nos. 1717,1718, 1719).
Incomplete MS. of Vol. II. in Bibl. Nat. (Suppl. Arabe, Nos 2198 to 2200).
Incomplete MS. of Vol. 4 (Suppl. Arabe, Nos. 2519 to 2521).
Odd vol. containing Nights 656 to 1001 (Suppl. Arabe, No. 1721, III.).
MS. containing Nights 284 to 327 (Suppl. Arabe, No. 1720).
MS. in British Museum (Oriental MSS., Nos. 1593 to 1598).
Ditto (Oriental MSS., Nos. 2916 to 2919).
Burckhardt’s MS. in the University Library at Cambridge (B. MSS. 106 to 109).
MS. in the Vatican (Nos. 778 to 781).
MS. in the Ducal Library at Gotha.
Odd vol. in ditto.
MS. in the Royal Library at Munich.
Ditto, incomplete (De Sacy’s ).
Fragment in the Library of the Royal and Imperial Library at Vienna (No. CL.).
MS. in the Imperial Public Library at St. Petersburg (Von Hammer’s ).
MS. in the Library of the Institute for the Study of Oriental languages at St. Petersburg (Italinski’s ).
Mr. Clarke’s MS. (cf. Nights, x., App. pp. 444- 448).
Caussin de Perceval’s MS.
Sir W. Ouseley’s MSS.
The above list does not include copies or fragments in various libraries of which M. Zotenberg has no sufficient information, nor miscellaneous collection in which tales from the Nights are mixed with others.
Portions of Habicht’s MS. appear to belong to the Egyptian recension, and others to have come from further East.
There is a MS. in the Bibliothèque Nationale (Suppl. Arabe, No. 1721, IV.) from Egypt, containing the first 210 Nights, which somewhat resembles Habicht’s MS. both in style and in the arrangement of the tales. The Third Shaykh’s Story (No. 1 c.) is entirely different from those in the ordinary MSS., nor is it the same as that in the Turkish version of the Nights, which is again quite different from either. In this MS. (No. 1721, IV.) No. 6 is followed by Nos. 7, 174, and 133.
Then follow notices of Anderson’s MS., used by Scott, but which cannot now be traced the Calcutta edition of the first 200 Nights; and of the Wortley Montague MS. These form M. Zotenberg’s third group of MSS.
M. Zotenberg does not enter into the question of the original form, date and constituents of the primitive work, but concludes that the complete work as we now have it only assumed its present form at a comparatively recent period. But it must not be forgotten that the details, description, manners, and style of the tales composing this vast collection, are undergoing daily alteration both from narrators and copyists.
Then follows an Appendix, in which M. Zotenberg has copied two tales from Galland’s journals, which he took down as related by the Maronite Hanna. One of these is new to me, it is the story of the Three Princes, and the Genius Morhagian and his Daughters (added at the end of this section); and the other is the well-known story of the Envious Sisters.
The remainder of M. Zotenberg’s volume contains the Arabic text of the story of ‘Ala Al-Din, or the Wonderful Lamp, with numerous critical notes, most of which refer to Galland’s version. A few pages of Chavis’ text are added for comparison.
The story itself, M. Zotenberg remarks, is modern, giving a faithful picture of Egyptian manners under the reign of the last Mamlouk Sultans. Some expressions which occur in the French Arabic Dictionary of Ellions Bocthor and of A. Caussin de Perceval, are apparently derived from the story of ‘Ala Al-Din.
431 The proper names are overrun with accents and diaeretical points, of which I have here retained but few.
432 Particularly mentioning Syntipas, the Forty Vizirs, a Turkish romance relating to Alexander, in 120 volumes; and Mohammed al-‘Aufi.
433 Probably similar to those described in the story of the Warlock and the Cook (anteà, pp. 106-112)
[Reprinted by M. Zotenberg (pp. 53-61) from Galland’s Journal, MS. francais, No. 15277, pp. 120-131. The passages in brackets are added by the present translator (chiefly where Galland has inserted “etc.") to fill up the sense.]
When the Sultan of Samarcand had reached a great age, he called the three princes, his sons, and after observing that he was much pleased to see how much they loved and revered him, he gave them leave to ask for whatever they most desired. They had only to speak, and he was ready to grant them whatever they asked, let it be what it might, on the sole condition that he should satisfy the eldest first, and the two younger ones afterwards, each in his turn. The eldest prince, whose name was Rostam, begged the Sultan to build him a cabinet of bricks of gold and silver alternately, and roofed with all kinds of precious stones.
The Sultan issued his orders that very day, but before the roof of the cabinet was finished, indeed before any furniture had been put into it, Prince Rostam asked his father’s leave to sleep there. The Sultan tried to dissuade him, saying that [the roof] ought to be finished first, but the prince was so impatient that he ordered his bed to be removed there, and he lay down. He was reading the Koran about midnight, when suddenly the floor opened and he beheld a most hideous genius named Morhagian rise from the ground, who cried out, “You are a prince, but even if you were the Sultan himself, I would not refrain from taking vengeance for your rashness in entering this house which has been built just above the palace of my eldest daughter.” At the same time he paced around the cabinet, and struck its walls, when the whole cabinet was reduced to dust so fine that the wind carried it away, and left not a trace of it. The prince drew his sword, and pursued the genius, who took to flight until he came to a well, into which he plunged [and vanished]. When the prince appeared before his father the Sultan next morning, he was overwhelmed with confusion [not only at what had happened, but on account of his disobedience to his father, who reproached him severely for having disregarded his advice].
The second prince, whose name was Gaiath Eddin (Ghayáth al-Din), then requested the Sultan to build him a cabinet constructed entirely of the bones of fishes. The Sultan ordered it to be built, at great expense. Prince Gaiath Eddin had no more patience to wait till it was quite finished than his brother Rostam. He lay down in the cabinet notwithstanding the Sultan’s warnings, but took care to keep his sword by his side The genius Morhagian appeared to him also at midnight, paid him the same compliment, and told him that the cabinet was built over the palace of his second daughter. He reduced it to dust, and Prince Gaiath Eddin pursued him, sword in hand, to the well, where he escaped; and next day the prince appeared before his father, the Sultan [as crestfallen as his brother].
The third prince, who was named Badialzaman (Badíu’l-Zamán = Rarity of the Age) obtained leave from the Sultan to build a cabinet entirely of rock crystal. He went to sleep there before it was entirely finished, but without saying anything to the Sultan, as he was resolved to see whether Morhagian would treat him in the same way. Morhagian arrived at midnight, and declared that the cabinet was built over the palace of his third daughter. He destroyed the cabinet’ and when the prince seized his sword, Morhagian took to flight. The prince wounded him three times before he reached the well, but he nevertheless succeeded in escaping.
Prince Badialzaman did not present himself to the Sultan, but went to the two princes, his brothers, and urged them to pursue the genius in the well itself. The three went together, and the eldest was let down into the well by a rope, but after descending a certain distance, he cried out, and asked to be drawn up a rain. He excused his failure by saying that he felt a burning heat [and was almost suffocated]. The same thing happened to Prince Gaiath Eddin, who likewise cried out till he was drawn up. Prince Badialzaman then had himself let down but commanded his brothers not to draw him up again, even if he should cry out. They let him down, and he cried out, but he continued to descend till he reached the bottom of the well, when he untied himself from the rope, and called out to his brothers that the air was very foul. At the bottom of the well he found an open door and he advanced for some distance between two walls, at the end of which he found a golden door, which he opened, and beheld a magnificent palace. He entered and passed through the kitchen and the storerooms, which were filled with all kinds of provisions, and then inspected the rooms, when he entered one magnificently furnished with sofas and divans. He was curious to find out who lived there, so he hid himself. Soon afterwards he beheld a flight of doves alight at the edge of a basin of water in the middle of the court The doves plunged into the water, and emerged from it as women, each of whom immediately set about her appointed work. One went to the store room, another to the kitchen a third began to sweep [and so on]. They prepared a feast [as if for expected guests]. Some time afterwards, Badialza man beheld another flight of ten doves of different colours who surrounded an eleventh, which was quite white, and these also perched on the edge of the basin. The ten doves plunged into the basin and came forth as women, more beautiful than the first and more magnificently robed. They took the white dove and plunged her into a smaller basin, which was [filled with] rose [water] and she became a woman of extraordinary beauty. She was the eldest daughter of the genius, and her name was Fattane. (Fattánah = The Temptress.)
Two of her attendants then took Fattane under the armpits, and led her to her apartment, followed by the others. She took her seat on a small raised sofa, and her women separated, some to the right and some to the left, and set about their work. Prince Badialzaman had dropped his handkerchief. One of the waiting women saw it and picked it up, and when she looked round, she saw the prince. She was alarmed, and warned Fattane, who sent some of her women to see who the stranger was. The prince came forward, and presented himself before Fattane, who beheld a young prince, and gave him a most gracious reception. She made him sit next to her, and inquired what brought him there? He told his story from the beginning to the end, and asked where he could find the genius, on whom he wished to take vengeance. Fattane smiled, and told him to think no more about it, but only to enjoy himself in the good company in which he found himself. They spread the table, and she made him sit next to her, and her women played on all kinds of musical instruments before they retired to rest.
Fattane persuaded the prince to stay with her from day to day: but on the fortieth day he declared that he could wait no longer, and that it was absolutely necessary for him to find out where Morhagian dwelt. The princess acknowledged that he was her father, and told him that his strength was so great [that nobody could overcome him]. She added that she could not inform him where to find him, but that her second sister would tell him. She sent one of her women to guide him to her sister’s palace through a door of communication, and to introduce him. He was well received by the fairy, for whom he had a letter, and he found her younger and more beautiful than Fattane. He begged her to inform him where he could find the genius, but she changed the subject of conversation, entertained him magnificently, and kept him with her for forty days. On the fortieth day she permitted him to depart, gave him a letter, and sent him to her youngest sister, who was a still more beautiful fairy. He was received and welcomed with joy. She promised to show him Morhagian’s dwelling, and she also entertained him for forty days. On the fortieth day she tried to dissuade him from his enterprise, but he insisted. She told him that Morhagian would grasp his head in one hand, and his feet in the other, and would tear him asunder in the middle. But this did not move him, and she then told him that he would find Morhagian in a dwelling, long, high and wide in proportion to his bulk. The prince sought him out, and the moment he caught sight of him, he rushed at him, sword in hand. Morhagian stretched out his hand, seized his head in one hand and his feet in the other, rent him in two with very little effort, and threw him out of a window which overlooked a garden.
Two women sent by the youngest princess each took a piece of the body of the prince, and brought it to their mistress, who put them together, reunited them, and restored life to the prince by applying water [of life?] to the wounds. She then asked the prince where he came from, and it seemed to him that he had just awakened from sleep; and she then recalled everything to his recollection. But this did not weaken his firm resolve to kill the genius. The fairy begged him to eat, but he refused; and she then urged that Morhagian was her father, and that he could only be killed by his own sword, which the prince could not obtain.434 “You may say what you please,” answered the prince; “but there is no help for it, and he must die by my hand [to atone for the wrongs which my brothers and I have suffered from him].”
Then the princess made him swear solemnly to take her as his bride, and taught him how he might succeed in killing the genius. “You cannot hope to kill him while he wakes,” said she, “but when he sleeps it is not quite impossible. If he sleeps, you will hear him snore, but he will sleep with his eyes open, which is a sign that he has fallen into a very profound slumber. As he fills the whole room, step upon him and seize his sword which hangs above his head, and then strike him on the neck. The blow will not kill him, but as he wakes, he will tell you to strike him a second time. But beware of doing this [for if you strike him again, the wound will heal of itself, and he will spring up and kill you, and me after you].”
Then Badialzaman returned to Morhagian’s room, and found him snoring so loud that everything around him shook. The prince entered, though not without trembling, and walked over him till he was able to seize the sword when he struck him a violent blow on the neck. Morhagian awoke, cursing his daughter, and cried out to the prince, whom he recognised, “Make an end of me.” The prince answered that what he had done was enough, and he left him, and Morhagian died.
The prince carried off Morhagian’s sword, which he thought would be useful to him in other encounters; and as he went, he passed a magnificent stable in which he saw a splendid horse. He returned to the fairy and related to her what he had done, and added that he would like to carry off the horse, but he feared it would be very difficult. “Not so difficult as you think,” said she. “Go and cut off some hair from his tail, and take care of it, and whenever you are in need, burn one or two of the hairs, and he will be with you immediately [and will bring you whatever you require].”
After this the three fairies assembled together, and the prince promised that the two princes, his brothers, should marry the other two sisters. Each fairy reduced her palace to the size of a small ball, which she gave to the prince
The prince then took the three fairies to the bottom of the well. His father, the Sultan, had long believed that he was dead, and had put on mourning for him. His two brothers often came to the well, and they happened to be there just at the time. Badialzaman attracted their attention by his shouts, told them what had happened, and added that he had brought the three fairies with him. He asked for a rope and fastened the eldest fairy to it, calling out, “Pull away, Prince Rostam, I send you your good fortune.” The rope was let down again, and he fastened the second fairy to it, calling out “Brother Gaiath Eddin, pull up your good fortune too.”
The third fairy, who was to marry Badialzaman, begged him to allow himself to be drawn up before her [as she was distrustful of his brothers], but he would not listen to her. As soon as the two princes had drawn her up so high that they could see her, they began to dispute who should have her. Then the fairy cried out to Badialzaman, “Prince, did I not warn you of this?”
The princes were obliged to agree that the Sultan should settle their dispute. When the third fairy had been drawn out of the well, the three fairies endeavoured to persuade the two princes to draw up their youngest brother, but they refused, and compelled them to follow them. While they carried off the youngest princess, the other two asked leave to say adieu to Prince Badialzaman They cried out from the top of the well, “Prince have patience till Friday, when you will see six bulls pass by — three red ones and three black ones. Mount upon one of the red ones and he will bring you up to the earth, but take good care not to mount upon a black one, for he would carry you down to the Seventh Earth.”435
The princes carried off the three fairies, and on Friday, three days afterwards, the six bulls appeared. Badialzaman was about to mount upon a red one, when a black one prevented him, and compelled him to mount his back, when he plunged through the earth till he stopped at a large town in another world. He entered the town, and took up his abode with an old woman, to whom he gave a piece of gold to provide him with something to eat, for he was almost famished. When he had eaten enough, he asked for something to drink. “You cannot be a native of this country,” said the old woman [“or you would not ask for drink”]. She then brought him a sponge, saying that she had no other water. She then informed him that the town was supplied with water from a very copious spring, the flow of which was interrupted by a monster. They were obliged to offer up a girl to be devoured by it on every Friday. To-day the princess, the Sultan’s daughter, was to be given up to him, and while the monster emerged from his lair to devour her, enough water would flow for everyone to supply himself until the following Friday.
Badialzaman then requested the old woman to show him the way to the place where the princess was already exposed; but she was so much afraid that he had much trouble in persuading her to come out of her house to show him what direction to take. He went out of the town, and went on till he saw the princess, who made a sign to him from a distance to approach no nearer; and the nearer he came, the more anxiety she displayed. As soon as he was within hearing, he shouted to her not to be afraid; and he sat down beside her, and fell asleep, after having begged her to wake him as soon as the monster appeared. Presently a tear from the princess fell upon his face, and he woke up, and saw the monster, which he slew with the sword of Morhagian, and the water flowed in abundance The princess thanked her deliverer, and begged him to take her back to the Sultan her father, who would give proofs of his gratitude; but he excused himself. She then marked his shoulder with the blood of the monster without his noticing it. The princess then returned to the town, and was led back to the palace, where she related to the Sultan [all that had happened]. Then the Sultan commanded that all the men in the town should pass before himself and the princess under pain of death. Badialzaman tried to conceal himself in a khan, but he was compelled to come with the others. The princess recognised him, and threw an apple at him to point him out. He was seized, and brought before the Sultan, who demanded what he could do to serve him. The prince hesitated, but at length he requested the Sultan to show him the way to return to the world from whence he came. The Sultan was furious, and would have ordered him to be burned as a heretic [but the princess interceded for his life]. The Sultan then treated him as a madman, and drove him ignominiously from the town, and he wandered away without knowing where he was going. At length he arrived at a mountain of rock, where he saw a great serpent rising from his lair to prey on young Rokhs. He slew the serpent with the sword of Morhagian, and the father and mother of the Rokhs arrived at the moment, and asked him to demand whatever he desired in return. He hesitated awhile, but at length he asked them to show him the way to the upper world. The male Rokh then told him to prepare ten quarters of mutton, to mount on his back, and to give him some of the meat whenever he should turn his head either to one side or to the other on the journey.
The prince mounted on the back of the Rokh, the Rokh stamped with his foot, and the earth opened before them wherever he turned. They reached the bottom of the well when the Rokh turned his head, but there was no more meat left, so the prince cut off the calf of his leg and gave it to him. When the Rokh arrived at the top of the well, the prince leaped to the ground, when the Rokh perceived [that he was lame, when he inquired the reason, and the prince explained what had happened]. The Rokh then disgorged the calf of the leg, and returned it to its place, when it grew fast, and the prince was cured immediately.
As the prince left the well, he met a peasant, and changed clothes with him, but he kept the sword, the three balls, and the horse-hair. He went into the town, where he took lodgings with a tailor, and kept himself in retirement. The prince gradually rose in the tailor’s esteem by letting him perceive that he knew how to sew [and all the arts of an accomplished tailor]. Presently, preparations were made for the wedding of Prince Rostam, and the tailor with whom Badialzaman lodged was ordered to prepare the fairy’s robes. Badialzaman, who slept in the shop, took clothes from one of the balls similar to those which were already far advanced, and put them in the place of the others. The tailor was astonished [at their fine workmanship] and wished to take the prince with him to receive a present, but he refused, alleging as an excuse that he had so lately come to the town. When the fairies saw the clothes, they thought it a good omen.
The wedding day arrived, and they threw the jaríd436 [and practised other martial exercises]. It was a grand festival, and all the shops were closed. The tailor wished to take the prince to see the spectacle, but he put him off with an excuse. However, he went to a retired part of the town, where he struck fire with a gun,437 and burned a little of the horse hair. The horse appeared, and he told him to bring him a complete outfit all in red, and that he should likewise appear with trappings, jewels, &c., and a reed (jaríd) of the same colour. The prince then mounted the horse, and proceeded to the race-course, where his appearance excited general admiration. At the close of the sports, he cut off the head of Prince Rostam, and the horsemen pursued him, but were unable to overtake him, and soon lost sight of him. He returned to the shop dressed as usual before the arrival of the tailor, who related to him what had happened, of which he pretended to be entirely ignorant. There was a great mourning at the court; but three months afterwards, fresh robes were ordered for the wedding of the second prince. The fairies were confirmed in their suspicions when they saw the fresh clothes [which Badialzaman sent them].
On the wedding day they again assembled to throw the jaríd. Prince Badialzaman now presented himself on the white horse, robed in white, and with pearls and jewels to match, and again he attracted general admiration. He pushed himself into the midst of a guard of eight hundred horsemen, and slew Gaiath Eddin. They rushed upon him, and he allowed himself to be carried before the Sultan, who recognised him [and pronounced his decision]. “A brother who has been abandoned to die by his brothers has a right to kill them.”
After this, Prince Badialzaman espoused the youngest princess, and the two others were given in marriage to two princes who were related to the Sultan.
434 The last clause is very short and obscure in the French “qu’il n’a pas son satire,” but what follows shows the real meaning to be that given above. (W. F. K.)
435 This I take to be the meaning of the words, “une autre monde sous la terre par sept fois.” (W.F.K.)
436 Galland writes “on fait un jeu de Giret (tournoi), etc.” (W. F. K.)
437 Perhaps an error of Galland’s. (W. F. K.)
P. 422. — There is a small Dutch work, the title of which is as follows:
Oostersche Vertellingen, uit de Duizend-en-cen-Nacht: Naar de Hoogduitsche Bewerking van M. Claudius,438 voor de Nederlandsche Jeugduiitgegeven door J. J. A. Gouverneur. Te Groningen, bij B. Wolters, n.d. 8vo., pp. 281, colt front. (illustrating No. 170).
A composite juvenile edition, including Introduction (very short), and Nos. 251g, 36a 163 (complete form), 6ef, 4, 5, 1, 52, 170, 6ee, 223, 207c, 6, 194c, 206a, 204h, 2a, 174a and Introduction (a).
Derived from at least four different sources.
438 I do not know the German edition referred to.
Under this heading I have to record Sir Richard and Lady Burton’s own works.
Lady Burton’s Edition of her husband’s Arabian Nights, translated literally from the Arabic, prepared for household reading by Justin Huntly McCarthy, M.P., London, Waterlow and Sons, Roy. 8vo. 6 vols.
In preparing this edition for the press, as much as possible has been retained, both of the translation and notes; and it has not been found necessary to omit altogether more than a very few of the least important tales. The contents of the 6 volumes are as follows:—
Vol. I. (1886), Front’s piece (Portrait of Lady Burton), Preface, Translator’s Foreword Introduction 1-9 (pp. xxiii. 476).
Vol. II. (1886), Front’s piece (Portrait of Sir Richard F. Burton), 9 (continued), 9a-29 (pp. ii. 526).
Vol. III. (1887), 29 (continued)-133e (pp. viii. 511).
Vol. IV. (1887), 133e (continued)-154a (pp. iv. 514).
Vol. V. (1887), 154a (continued)-163 (pp. iv. 516).
Vol. VI. (1886) [? 1888], 163 (continued)-169 (pp. ii. 486).
Also includes Terminal Essay, Index to Tales and Proper Names, Contributions to Bibliography, as far as it relates to Galland’s MS. and Translations; Comparative Table of Tales; Opinions of the Press; and Letters from Scholars.
Supplemental Nights to the Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, with notes anthropological and explanatory, by Richard F. Burton. Benares, printed by the Kamashastra Society for private subscribers only. Roy. 8vo.
The contents of the 6 volumes are as follows:
Vol. I. (1886) Translator’s Foreword, 170-181bb.
Vol. II. (1886) 182-189. Appendix: Variants and analogues of some of the tales in vols. i. and ii., by Mr. W. A. Clouston.
These two volumes contain the tales peculiar to the Breslau Text, and cover the same ground as Mr. Payne’s 3 vols. of “Tales from the Arabic.”
Vol. III. (1887) Foreword, 191-198. Appendix: Variants and Analogues of the Tales in the Supplemental Nights, vol. iii., by Mr. W. A. Clouston.
This volume, the bulkiest of the whole series, contains such of Galland’s tales as are not to be found in the ordinary texts of the Nights.
Vol. IV. (1887) The Translator’s Foreword, 203-209; App. A. Ineptiæ Bodleianae; App. B., The three untranslated tales in Mr. E. J. W. Gibb’s “Forty Vezirs.”
Vol. V. (1888) 210-241a, Translator’s Foreword; App. i. Catalogue of Wortley Montague Manuscript, Contents, App. ii. Notes on the Stories contained in vols. iv. and v. of Supplemental Nights, by Mr. W. F. Kirby.
These two volumes contain tales translated from the Wortley Montague MS., used by Jonathan Scott, and now in the Bodleian Library at Oxford. The following tales, not in our table, are added:—
Vol. IV. Story of the Limping Schoolmaster (between 204i and 204j).
How Drummer Abu Kasim became a Kazi, and Story of the Kazi and his Slipper. (These two tales come between 206a and 206b.)
Adventure of the Fruit-seller and the Concubine (between 207c and 207d).
Tale of the third Larrikin concerning himself (between 208 and 209).
On the other hand, a few tales in the MS. are omitted as repetitions, or as too unimportant to be worth
translating:—
Vol. VI. (1888) Translator’s Foreword: 248; 246; The Linguist-Dame, the Duenna, and the King’s Son; 247; The Pleasant
History of the Cock and the Fox; History of what befel the Fowl-let with the Fowler; 249; 250.
App. i. Index to the Tales and Proper Names; ii. Alphabetical Table of the Notes (Anthropological, &c.); iii. Notes on the Stories contained in vol. vi. of Supplementary Nights, by W. F. Kirby; iv. Additional Notes on the Bibliography of the Thousand and One Nights, by W. F. Kirby; v. The Biography of the Book and the Reviewers Reviewed, Opinions of the Press.
This volume contains the originals of Chavis and Cazotte’s Tales, omitting the four doubtful ones (cf. Nights, x. App., pp. 418, 419).
“We have also ‘Aladdin or the Wonderful Lamp,’ ‘Sindbad the Sailor, or the Old Man of the Sea’ and ‘Ali Baba, or the Forty Thieves,’ revised by M. E. Braddon, author of ‘Lady Audley’s Secret,’ etc. Illustrated by Gustav Doré and other artists. London: J. & R. Maxwell.
“Miss Braddon has contented herself with ‘Englishing’ the vulgar version, whose Gallicisms are so offensive to the national ear.” (Sir R. F. Burton, in litt.)
13. History of Rhedi, the Hermit of Mount Ararat, an Oriental Tale. By — Mackenzie, 16mo., Dublin, 1781.
I have not seen this little book.
14. Miscellanies, consisting of classical extracts, and Oriental Epilogues. By William Beloe, F.S.A. Translator of Herodotus, &c. London, 1795.
Includes some genuine Oriental tales, such as a version of that of Básim the Smith.
15. The Orientalist, or Letters of a Rabbi, with Notes by James Noble, Oriental Master in the Scottish Nasal and Military Academy. Edinburgh, 1831.
Noticed by Mr. W. A. Clouston, Suppl. Nights, iii., p. 377.
16. The Adventures of the Caliph Haroun Al-raschid. Recounted by the Author of “Mary Powell” [Miss Manning]. 8vo., London, 1855; Arthur Hall, Virtue & Co.
17. The 1001 Days, a Companion to the Arabian Nights, with introduction by Miss J.J Pardoe. 8vo., London
1857, woodcuts.
A miscellaneous collection partly derived from “Les Mille et un Jours” (cf. Nights x., pp. 499, 500). I have also seen
a similar miscellaneous collection in French under the latter title. The tales in the English work are as follows:
Hassan Abdallah, or the Enchanted Keys Story of Hassan.
Hassan Abdallah the Basket Maker.
Hassan Abdallah the Dervise Abounader
Soliman Bey and the Story Tellers
The First Story Teller.
The Second Story Teller.
The Third Story Teller.
Prince Khalaf and the Princess of China
Story of Prince Al-Abbas.
Story of Liri-in.
The Wise Dey.
The Tunisian Sage.
The Nose for Gold.
The Treasures of Basra.
History of Aboulcassem.
The Old Camel.
The Story of Medjeddin (Grimm’s “Haschem,” cf. Nights, x., p. 422).
King Bedreddin Lolo and his Vizier.
Story of the Old Slippers.
Story of Atalmulk, surnamed the Sorrowful Vizier, and the Princess Zelica.
Story of Malek and the Princess Schirine
18. The Modern Arabian Nights. By Arthur A’Beckett and Linley Sambourne. London: Bradbury, Agnew & Co., 1877, sm. 4to., with comic coloured frontispieces and woodcuts.
Four clever satires (social and political) as follows:
19. Tales of the Caliph. By Al Arawiyah, 8vo., London, T. Fisher Unwin, 1887.
Belongs to Class 5 (Imitations). Consists of fictitious adventures supposed to have happened to Harun Al-Rashid, chiefly during his nocturnal rambles.
P. 440. — No. 184 was published under the title of “Woman’s Wit” in the “Literary Souvenir” for 1831, pp.217-237.derived from Langles’ version (Mr. L.C. Smithers in litt.).
P. 441, No. 1. Les Mille et un Jours.
Mr. L. C. Smithers (in litt.) notes English editions published in 1781 and 1809, the latter under the title of “The Persian and Turkish Tales.”
P. 443, No. 5. Recueil de Contes Populaires de la Kabylie du Djurdjura recueillis et traduits par J. Riviere. 12mo. Paris: Leroux. 1882.
This collection is intended to illustrate the habits and ideas of the people. The tales are very short, and probably very much abridged, but many of them illustrate the Nights. I may note the following tales as specially interesting from their connection with the Nights, or with important tales in other collections, Oriental or otherwise.
Thadhillala. A brief abstract of No. 151.
Les deux Frères. A variant of Herodotus’ Story of Rhampsinitus.
L’homme de bien et le méchant. A variant of No. 262; or Schiller’s Fridolin.
Le Corbeau et l’Enfant. Here a child is stolen and a crow left in its place.
H’ab Sliman. Here an ugly girl with foul gifts is substituted for her opposite.
Le roi et son fils. Here we find the counterpart of Schaibar (from No. 197), who, however, is a cannibal and devours everybody.
Les Enfants et la Chauve-sourie. Resembles No. 198.
Le Joueur de Flute. Resembles Grimm’s story of the Jew in the Bramble-Bush.
Jésus-Christ et la femme infidels (=261 b.; cf. Nights, x., p. 420).
Le Roitelet. This is the fable of the Ox and the Frog.
L’idiot et le coucou (=No. 206a).
Moh’amed teen Soltan. This is one of the class of stories known to folk-lorists as the Punchkin series. The life of a Ghúl is hidden in an egg, the egg in a pigeon, the pigeon in a camel, and the camel in the sea.
Les deux Frères. A Cinderella story. The slayer of a hydra is discovered by trying on a shoe.
Les trots Frères. Here a Ghúl is killed by a single blow from a magic dagger, which must not be repeated. (Cf. Nights,
vii., p. 361.) In this story, too, the protection of a Ghúlah is secured by tasting her milk, a point which we find in
Spitta Bey’s “Comes Arabes Modernes,” but not in the Nights.
9. Turkish Evening Entertainments. “The Wonders of Remarkable Incidents and the Rarities of Anecdotes,” by Ahmed ibn Hemdem the Kethhoda called “Sobailee.” Translated from the Turkish by John F. Brown. 8vo., New York, 1850.
Contains a great number of tales and anecdotes, divided into 37 chapters, many of which bear such headings as “Illustrative of intelligence and piety,” “On justice and fostering care,” “Anecdotes about the Abbaside Caliphs,” &c.
“A translation of the Turkish story-book, ‘Aja’ib al-ma’ásir wa ghará ‘ib ennawádir,’ written for Muád the Fourth Ottoman Sultan who reigned between 1623-40. A volume of interesting anecdotes from the Arabic and Persian” (Mr. L. C. Smithers, in litt.).
10. Contes Arabes Modernes, recueillis et traduits par Guillaume Spitta-Bey. 8vo., Leyden and Paris, 1883.
This book contains 12 orally collected tales of such great importance from a folk-lore point of view that I have given full abstracts of all. They are designed to illustrate the spoken Egyptian dialect, and are printed in Roman character, with translation and glossary. The hero of nearly all the tales is called “Mohammed l’Avisé,” which Mr. Sydney Hartland renders “Prudent,” and Mr. W. A. Clouston “Discreet.” The original gives “Essâtir Mehammed.” (Al-Shátir Mohammed, i.e., M. the Clever.) The frequent occurrence of the number 39 (forty less one) may also be noted. Ghúls often play the part which we should expect Jinn to fill. The bear, which occurs in two stories, is not an Egyptian animal. Having called attention to these general features we may leave the tales to speak for themselves.
I. Histoire de Mohammed l’Avise.
Contains the essential features of Cazotte’s story of the Maugraby (cf. Nights, x., p 418) with interesting additions. The “Mogrébin” confers three sons on a king and queen and claims Mohammed, the eldest and the cleverest. He gives him a book to read during his absence of 30 days, but on the 29th day he finds a girl hanging by her hair in the garden and she teaches him to read it, but not to tell the magician. The latter cuts off his arm threatening to cut off his head if he cannot read the book within another 30 days. As soon as he is gone, Mohammed reads on his arm again with the book, and escapes with the girl when they separate and return to their respective homes. Mohammed then changes himself into a sheep for his mother to sell, but warns her not to sell the cord round his neck. Next day he changes himself into a camel, forbidding his mother to sell the bridle but she is persuaded to do so, and he falls into the hands of the magician. But he contrives to escape in the form of a crow and the magician pursues him for two days and nights in the form of a hawk, when he descends into the garden of the king whose daughter he had rescued from the magician, and changes himself into a pomegranate on a tree. The magician asks for and receives the pomegranate, when it bursts, and the seed containing the life of Mohammed rolls under the king’s throne. The magician changes himself into a cock, and picks up the seeds, but while he is searching for the last, it changes into a dagger, and cuts him in two. The princess acknowledges Mohammed as her deliverer and they are married.
II. Histoire de l’Ours de Cuisine.
This begins as a swan-maiden story.439 A king steals the feather-dress of a bathing maiden, who will only marry him on condition that she shall tear out the eyes of his forty women (39 white slaves and a princess). The king answers, “C’est bien, il n’y a pas d’inconvénient.” The forty blind women are shut up in a room under the kitchen, where they give birth to children whom they cut up and divide; but the princess saves her shares and thus preserves her son, whom she calls “Mohammed l’Avisé,” and teaches to read. He steals food from the kitchen, calling himself “Ours de Cuisine,” the queen hears of him, pretends to be ill, and demands that he shall be sent to fetch the heart of the Bull of the Black Valley. He finds a Ghúleh sitting with her breasts thrown back on her shoulders so he tastes her milk unperceived, and she at once adopts him as her son. She gives him a ball and a dagger, warning him that if he strikes the bull more than once, he will sink into the earth with him. The ball rolls before him, and when it stops, the bull rises from the ground. Mohammed kills him, refusing to repeat the blow, returns the ball and dagger to the Ghúleh, and returns home. A few days afterwards, the queen sends Mohammed to fetch the heart of the Bull of the Red Valley, and when he informs the Ghúleh, she says “Does she wish to kill her second brother too?” “Are these her brothers?” asked Mohammed. She answered, “Yes, indeed, they are the sons of the Sultan of the Jánn.” He kills the Bull as before. A fortnight afterwards, the queen hides a loaf of dry bread under her mattress. When its cracking gives rise to the idea that she is very ill, and she complains of great pain in the sides. She demands a pomegranate from the White Valley, where the pomegranates grow to the weight of half a cantar.440 The Ghuleh tells him she cannot help him, but he must wait for her son Adberrahym. When he arrives he remarks, “Hum! mother, there’s a smell of man about you, bring him here to me to eat for breakfast.” But his mother introduces Mohammed to him as his foster brother, and he becomes friendly at once, but says that the pomegranate is the queen’s sister. He tells Mohammed to get an ardebb of small round loaves in a basket, along with a piece of meat, and a piece of liver. The Ghúl then gives him a rod, saying, “Throw it down, and walk after it. It will knock at the garden gate, which will open, and when you enter you will find great dogs, but throw the bread right and left, without looking back. Beyond a second gate you will find Ghúls; throw bread to them right and left, and after passing them, look up, and you will find a tree in a fountain surrounded with roses and jasmine. You will see a pomegranate upon it. Gather it, and it will thunder, but fear nothing, and go on your way directly, and do not look behind you after passing the gate.” The queen waits another fortnight, and then demands the flying castle from Mount Kaf, intending that her father, who dwelt there, should burn him. The Ghúleh directed Mohammed to dye himself black, and to provide himself with some mastic (ladin) and lupines. With these, he makes friends with a black slave, who takes him into the castle, and shows him a bottle containing the life of the queen, another containing the eyes of the forty women; a magic sword which spares nothing, and the ring which moves the castle. Mohammed then sees a beetle,441 which the slave begs him not to kill, as it is his life. He watches it till it enters a hole, and as soon as the slave is asleep, he kills it, and the slave dies. Then he lays hands on the talismans, rushes into the room where the inhabitants of the castle are condoling with the king and queen on the loss of their three children, and draws the sword, saying “Strike right and left, and spare neither great nor small.” Having slain all in the castle, Mohammed removes it to his father’s palace, when his father orders the cannons to be fired. Then Mohammed tells his father his history, compels the queen to restore the eyes of the forty women, when they become prettier than before, and then gives her the flask containing her life. But she drops it in her fright, and her life ends, and the king places Mohammed on the throne.
III.--Histoire de la Dame des Arabes Jasmin.
A king sends his wazir to obtain a talisman of good luck, which is written for him by Jasmine, the daughter of an Arab Sheikh. The king marries her, although she demands to be weighed against gold, but drives her away for kissing a fisherman in return for a bottle which he has drawn out of the river for her. She goes two days’ journey to a town, where she takes up her abode with a merchant, and then discovers that whenever she turns the stopper of the bottle, food, drink, and finally ten white dancing girls emerge from it. The girls dance, each throws her ten purses of money, and then they retire into the bottle. She builds herself a grand palace, where her husband seeks her, and seeing the new palace, orders that no lights shall be lit in the town that night. She lights up her palace, which convinces the king that he has a dangerous rival. Then the wazir and the king visit her; the king asks for the bottle, and she demands more than a kiss, then reveals herself, puts the king to shame, and they are reconciled.
IV. —Histoire du Pécheur et de son Fils.
A king falls in love with the wife of a fisherman, and the wazir advises the former to require the fisherman on pain of death to furnish a large hall with a carpet in a single piece. The fisherman’s wife sends him to the well of Shoubrah where he exclaims, “O such-and-such-a-one, thy sister so-and-so salutes thee, and asks thee to send her the spindle which she forgot when she was with thee yesterday, for we want to furnish a room with it.” The fisherman drives a nail into the floor at one end of the room, fixes the thread on the spindle to it, and draws out a wonderful carpet. Then the wazir demands a little boy eight days old, who shall tell a story of which the beginning shall be a lie and the end a lie. The fisherman is sent to the well with the message, “O such-and-such-a-one, thy sister so-and-so greets thee, and requests thee to give her the child which she brought into the world yesterday.” But the child only cries until three gnats are applied to him, one on each side and one on the back. Then the boy speaks, saying, “Peace be on thee, O king!” and afterwards tells his lying story: “When I was in the flower of my youth, I walked out of the town one day into the fields when it was very hot, I met a melon-seller, I bought a melon for a mahboub, took it, cut out a piece, and looked inside, when I saw a town with a grand hall, when I raised my feet and stepped into the melon. Then I walked about to look at the people of the town inside the melon. I walked on till I came out of the town into the country. There I saw a date-tree bearing dates a yard long. I wished for some, and climbed the date-tree to gather a date and eat it. There I found peasants sowing and reaping on the date-tree, and the threshing wheels were turning to thresh the wheat. I walked on a little, and met a man who was beating eggs to make a poultry yard. I looked on, and saw the chickens hatch; the cocks went to one side and the hens to the other. I stayed near them till they grew up, when I married them to each other, and went on. Presently I met a donkey carrying sesame-cakes, so I cut off a piece and ate it. When I had eaten it, I looked up, and found myself outside the melon, and the melon became whole as it was at first.” Then the child rebukes and threatens the king and the wazir and the fisherman’s wife sends her husband to take the child back to the well.
The fisherman had a son named Mohammed l’Avisé (Al-Shatír), who was as handsome as his mother; but the king had a son whose complexion was like that of a Fellah. The boys went to school together, and the prince used to say, “Good day, fisherman’s son,” and Mohammed used to reply, “Good day, O son of the king, looking like a shoe-string.” The prince complained to his father, who ordered the schoolmaster to kill Mohammed and he bastinadoed him severely. The boy went to his father, and turned fisherman. On the first day he caught a mullet (Fr. rouget), and was about to fry it, when it cried out that it was one of the princesses of the river, and he threw it back. Then the wazir advised the king to send Mohammed to fetch the daughter of the king of the Green Country, seven years journey distant. By the advice of the fish, Mohammed asked the king for a golden galley; and on reaching the Green Country, invited the inhabitants to inspect his galley. At last the princess came down, and he carried her off. When she found she was entrapped she threw her ring into the sea, which the fish caught. When the king proposed to the princess, she first demanded her ring, which Mohammed immediately presented to the king. Then she said it was the custom of her country on the occasion of a marriage to dig a trench from the palace to the river, which was filled with wood, and set on fire. The bridegroom was required to walk through the trench to the river. The wazir proposed that Mohammed should walk through the trench first; and by the fish’s advice, he stopped his ears, cried out, “In the name of God, the Compassioning, the Merciful,” threw himself into the trench, and returned from the river handsomer than before. So the wazir said to the king, “Send for your son to go with us, that he may become as handsome as Mohammed.” So the three threw themselves into the fire, and were burned to ashes, and Mohammed married the princess.
V. —Histoire de Dalâl.
Dalal was a little girl, the daughter of a king, who found a louse on her head, and put it into a jar of oil, where it remained till Dalal was twenty years old, when it burst the jar, and emerged in the form of a horned buffalo. The king ordered the hide to be hung at the gate of the palace, and proclaimed that anyone who could discover what the skin was should marry his daughter, but whoever tried and failed should lose his head. Thirty-nine suitors thus perished, when a Ghul passed by in the form of a man, who knew the secret. He took Dalal home with him and brought her a man’s head, but as she would not eat it, he brought her a sheep. He then visited her under the forms of her mother and her two aunts, and told her that her husband was a Ghul; but she refused to believe it until the third visit. Then he was angry; but she begged him to let her go to the bath before she was eaten. He consented, took her to a bath, and sat at the door; but she rubbed herself with mud, changed clothes with an old lupine-seller, and escaped for a time. She reached a palace which she would not enter until she was invited by the Prince himself, who then proposed to marry her, but on the wedding day, her husband, having tracked her out, contrived that another Ghúl in the form of a man should present him to the king in the form of a sheep, pretending that he had been reared in a harem, and would bleat so loud that nobody could sleep, unless he was tethered in the women’s apartments. At night the Ghúl carried off Dalal from beside the prince to the adjoining room, but she begged to be allowed to retire for a few moments, when she called upon Saint Zaynab for help, who sent one of her sisters (?) a Jinniyah. She clove the wall, and asked Dalal to promise to give her her first child. She then gave her a piece of wood to throw into the mouth of the Ghúl when he opened his mouth to eat her.442 He fell on the ground senseless, and Dalal woke up the prince who slew him. But when Dalal brought forth a daughter whom she gave to the Jinniyah, her mother-in law declared that Dalal herself was a Ghuleh, and she was banished to the kitchen, where she peeled onions for ten years. At the end of this time the Jinniyah again clove the wall, and brought back the young princess, who was introduced to her father, who took Dalal again into favour. Meantime the sultan of the Jinn sent for the Jinniyah, for his son was ill, and could only be cured by a cup of water from the Sea of Emeralds, and this could only be obtained by a daughter of mankind. So the Jinniyah borrowed Dalal’s daughter again, and took her to the sultan, who gave her a cup, and mounted her on a Jinni, warning her not to wet her fingers. But a wave touched the hand of the princess, which turned as green as clover. Every morning the Sea of Emerald is weighed by an officer to discover whether any has been stolen; and as soon as he discovered the deficiency, he took a platter of glass rings and bracelets, and went from palace to palace calling out, “Glass bracelets and rings, O young ladies.” When he came to Dalal’s palace, the young princess was looking out of the window, and insisted on going herself to try them on. She hesitated to show her right hand; and the spy knew that she was guilty, so he seized her hand, and sunk into the ground with her. He delivered her over to the servants of the King of the Sea of Emerald, who would have beaten her, but the Jinn surrounded her, and prevented them. Then the King of the Sea of Emerald ordered her to be taken, bound into the bath, saying that he would follow in the form of a serpent, and devour her. But she recognised him by his green eyes, when he became a man, ordered her to be restored to her father, and afterwards married her. He gave forty camel loads of emeralds and jacinths as her dowry, and always visited her by night in the form of a winged serpent, entering and leaving by the window.
VI. —Histoire de la fille vertueuse.
A merchant and his wife set out to the Hejaz with their son, leaving their daughter to keep house, and commending her to the protection of the Kazi. The Kazi fell in love with the girl, but as she would not admit him, he employed an old woman to entice her to the bath, but the girl threw soap in his eyes, pushed him down and broke his head, and escaped to her own house, carrying off his clothes. When the Kazi was well enough to get about again he found that she had had the door of her house walled up until the return of her friends, so he wrote a slanderous letter to her father, who sent her brother to kill her, and bring him a bottle of her blood. But her brother, although he thought the walling up of the door was a mere presence, could not find it in his heart to kill her, but abandoned her in the desert, and filled the bottle with gazelle blood. When the young girl awoke, she wandered to a spring, and climbed into a tree where a prince who was passing saw her, carried her home, and married her. She had two sons and a daughter, but one of their playmates refused to play with them because they had no maternal uncle. The king then ordered the wazir to escort the princess and her three children to her father’s village for a month; but on the road, the wazir made love to her, and she allowed him to kill children in succession to save her honour. At last, he became so pressing that she pretended to consent, but asked to quit the tent for a moment, with a cord attached to her hand to prevent her escape. But she untied the cord, fastened it to a tree, and fled. As they could not find the princess, the wazir advised the soldiers to tell the king that a Ghúleh had devoured the children, and fled into the desert. The princess changed clothes with a shepherd boy, went to a town, and took a situation in a café. When the wazir returned to the king, and delivered his report, the king proposed that they should disguise themselves and set out in search of the princess and her children; and the wazir could not refuse. Meantime, the brother of the princess had admitted to her father that he had not slain her, and they also set out in search of her, taking the Kazi with them. They all met at the café, where she recognised them, and offered to tell them a story. She related her own, and was restored to her friends. They seized the Kazi and the wazir, and sent for the old woman, when they burned them all three, and scattered their ashes in the air.
VII. —Histoire du prince qui apprit un métier.
A prince named Mohammed l’Avisé went to seek a wife, and fell in love with the daughter of a leek-grower. She would not accept him unless he learned a trade, so he learned the trade of a silk weaver, who taught him in five minutes, and he worked a handkerchief with the palace of his father embroidered upon it. Two years afterwards, the prince and the wazir took a walk, when they found a Maghrabi seated at the gate of the town, who invited them to take coffee. But he was a prisoner (or rather a murderer) who imprisoned them behind seven doors; and after three days he cooked the wazir, and was going to cook the prince, but he persuaded him to take his handkerchief to market where it was recognised, and the prince released from his peril. Two years later the king died, and the prince succeeded to the throne. The latter had a son and daughter, but he died when the boy was six and the girl eight, warning the boy not to marry until the girl was married, lest his wife should ill-use her. After two years the sister said, “Brother, if I show you the treasures of your father and mother, what will you do?” He answered, “I will buy a slipper for you and a slipper for me, and we will play with them among the stones.” “No,” said she, “you are still too little,” and waited a year before she asked him again. This time he answered, “I will buy a tambourine for you, and a flute for myself and we will play in the street.” She waited two more years, and this time he answered, “We will use them to repair the water-wheels and my father’s palaces, and we will sow and reap.” “Now you are big,” said she, and gave him the treasures, which he used to erect buildings in his father’s country. Soon afterwards, an old woman persuaded the youth to marry her daughter; but she herself went into the mountains, collected eggs of the bird Oumbar, which make virgins pregnant if they eat them, and gave them to the sister. The old woman reported the result to the king, who visited his sister to satisfy himself of the truth of the matter, and then left her, but sent her food by a slave. When the sister’s time came, four angels descended from heaven, and took her daughter, bringing the child to her mother to be nursed. The mother died of grief, and the angels washed and shrouded her and wept over her; and when the king heard it, he opened the door, and the angels flew away to heaven with the child. The king ordered a tomb to be built in the palace for his sister, and was so much grieved at her death that he went on pilgrimage. When he had been gone some time, and the time of his return approached, the old woman opened the sister’s tomb, intending to throw her body to the dogs to devour, and to put the carcase of a sheep in its place. The angels put the child in the tomb, and she reproached and threatened the old woman; who, however, seized upon her and dyed her black, pretending that she was a little black slave whom she had bought. When the king returned, he pitied her, and called her to sit by him, but she asked for a candle and candlestick to hold in her hand before all the company. Then she told her mother’s story, saying to the candle at every word, “Gutter for kings; this is my uncle, the chief of kings.” Then the candle threw mahboubs on her uncle’s knees. When the story was ended the king ordered proclamation to be made, “Let whosoever loves the Prophet and the Elect, bring wood and fire.” The people obeyed, and the old woman and her daughter were burned.
VIII. —Histoire du Prince Amoureux.
A woman prayed to God to give her a daughter, even if she should die of the smell of flax. When the girl was ten years old, the king’s son passed through the street, saw her at the window, and fell in love with her. An old woman discovered that he loved Sittoukan, the daughter of a merchant, and promised to obtain her. She contrived to set her to spin flax, when a splinter ran under her nail, and she fainted. The old woman persuaded her father and mother to build a palace in the midst of the river, and to lay her there on a bed. Thither she took the prince, who turned the body about, saw the splinter, drew it out, and the girl awoke. He remained with her forty days, when he went down to the door, where he found the wazir waiting, and they entered the garden. There they found roses and jasmines, and the prince said, “The jasmines are as white as Sittoukan, and the roses are like her cheeks; if you did not approve, I would still remain with her, were it only for three days.” He went up again for three days, and when he next visited the wazir, they saw a carob-tree, and the prince said, “Remember, wazir, the carob-tree is like the eyebrows of Sittoukan, and if you would not let me, I would still remain with her, were it only for three days.” Three days later, they saw a fountain, when the prince observed that it was like the form of Sittoukan, and he returned. But this time, she was curious to know why he always went and returned, and he found her watching behind the door, so he spat on her saying, “If you did not love men, you would not hide behind doors”; and he left her. She wandered into the garden in her grief, where she found the ring of empire, which she rubbed, and the ring said, “At your orders, what do you ask for?” She asked for increased beauty, and a palace beside that of the prince. The prince fell in love with her, and sent his mother to propose for her hand. The mother took two pieces of royal brocade as a present, which the young lady ordered a slave in her hearing to cut up for dusters. Then the mother brought her an emerald collar worth four thousand diners, when she ordered it to be threshed, and thrown to the pigeons. The old lady acknowledged herself beaten, and asked Sittoukan if she wished to marry or not. The latter demanded that the prince should be wrapped in seven shrouds, and carried to the palace which she indicated, as if he were dead. Then she went and took off the shrouds one after another, and when she came to the seventh, she spat on him, saying, “If you did not love women, you would not be wrapped in seven shrouds.” Then he said, “Is it you?” and he bit his finger till he bit it off, and they remained together.
IX. —Histoire du musician ambulant et de son fils.
This travelling musician was so poor that when his wife was confined, he went out to beg for their immediate necessities, and found a hen lying on the ground with an egg under her. He met a Jew to whom he sold the egg for twenty mahboubs. The hen laid an egg every day, which the Jew bought for twenty mahboubs, and the musician became rich and opened a merchant’s shop. When his son was grown, he built a school for him at his own expense, where poor children were taught to read. Then the musician set out on pilgrimage, charging his wife not to let the Jew trick her out of the hen. A fortnight afterwards, the Jew called, and persuaded the woman to sell him the hen for a casket of silver. He ordered her to cook it, but told her that if anybody else ate a piece, he would rip him up. The musician’s son came in, while the fowl was cooking, and as his mother would not give him any, he seized the gizzard, and ate it, when one of the slaves warned him to fly before the arrival of the Jew. The Jew pursued the boy, and would have killed him, but the latter took him up with one hand, and dashed him to pieces on the ground. The musician’s son continued his journey, and arrived at a town where thirty-nine heads of suitors who had failed to conquer the princess in wrestling, were suspended at the gate of the palace. On the first day the youth wrestled with the princess for two hours without either being able to overcome the other; but during the night the king ordered the doctors to drug the successful suitor, and to steal the talisman. Next morning when the youth awoke, he perceived his weakness, and fled. Presently he met three men quarrelling over a flying carpet, a food-producing cup, and a money mill. He threw a stone for them to run after and transported himself to Mount Kaf, where he made trial of the other talismans. Then he returned to the palace, called to the princess to come down to wrestle with him, and as soon as she stepped on the carpet, carried her away to Mount Kaf, when she promised to restore the gizzard, and to marry him. She deserted him, and he found two date-trees, one bearing red and the other yellow dates. On eating a yellow date, a horn grew from his head443 and twisted round the two date-trees. A red date removed it. He filled his pockets, and travelled night and day for two months.444 He cried dates out of season, and the princess bought sixteen yellow ones, and ate them all; and eight [sixteen?] horns grew from her head, four to each wall. They could not be sawn off, and the king offered his daughter to whoever could remove them. When the musician’s son married the princess, and became wazir, he said to his bride, “Where is my carpet, &c.” She replied, “Is it you?” “Yes,” said he, “Is my trick or yours the best?” She admitted that she was beaten, and they lived together in harmony.
X. —Histoire du rossignol chanteur.
Three brothers built a palace for their mother and sister after their father’s death. The sister loved someone of
whom the brothers disapproved. An old woman advised the sister to send her brothers for the singing nightingale. The
two eldest would not wait till the bird was asleep, but while they were trying to shut his cage, he dusted sand over
them with his claws, and sunk them to the seventh earth. The beads and the ring gave warning of their deaths at home;
but the third, who left a rose with his mother, to fade if he died captured the bird, and received sand from under the
cage. When he scattered it on the ground, more than a thousand men rose up, some negroes and some Turks. The brothers
were not among them, so the youngest was told to scatter white sand, when 500 more people emerged, including the
brothers. Afterwards the eldest brother was sitting in his ship when a Maghrebi told him to clean his turban; which his
mother interpreted to mean that his sister had misconducted herself, and he should kill her. He refused, and fled with
her to the desert. Hearing voices, he entered a cave where thirty nine robbers were dividing rations; and he contrived
to appropriate a share, and then to return it when missed; but as he was detected, he gave himself out as a
fellow-robber, engaged himself to them, and watching his opportunity, slew them. Afterwards he brought his sister two
young lions. She found a wounded negro in the cave, whom she nursed, and after having had two children by him, plotted
against her brother. She pretended to be ill, and sent him to find the grapes of Paradise. He met a Ghúleh who gave him
a ball which directed him to Paradise, and he returned safely. Then his sister sent him for the Water of Life when the
two young lions followed him, and he could not drive them back. After travelling for a year the brother reached the Sea
of the Water of Life, and while resting under a tree heard two pigeons telling each other that the king’s daughter was
ill, and every doctor who failed to restore her was put to death, and she could only be cured by the Water of Life.
“Mohammed l’Avisé” filled two bottles and a jar with the water, cured the princess with the water in the jar, married
her, and after forty days, gave her one bottle, and set out to visit his family. At the sister’s instigation, the negro
slew Mohammed, cut him to pieces, and put the remains into a sack, which they loaded on the ass. Then the lions drove
the ass to the wife of Mohammed, who restored his life with the water which he had left with her. Mohammed then shut up
the lions, dressed himself as a negro, and went to visit his sister, taking with him some rings and mastic (ladin). His
sister recognised his eyes, and while she and the negro were disputing, Mohammed slew the negro and the three
[sic] children, and buried his sister alive. He then returned to his wife, announced that his relations were
dead, and asked for a hundred camels; and it took them a week to convey away the treasures of the robbers.
XI. —Histoire d’ Arab-Zandyq.
This story is translated by Mr. W. A. Clouston, Suppl. Nights, iii., p. 411, and need not be repeated here.
XII. —Histoire du prince et de son cheval.
A prince and foal were born at the same time, and some time afterwards the mother and the mare died. The king married again, and the new queen had an intrigue with a Jew. They plotted to poison the prince, but his horse wept and warned him. Then the queen pretended to be ill, and asked for the heart of the horse, but the prince fled to another kingdom, and bought clothes from a poor man, packing his own on his horse. Then he parted from the horse, who gave him a hair and a flint, telling him to light the hair when ever he needed him. The prince then went to a town, and engaged himself as under gardener to the king. He was set to drive the ox which turned the water-wheel, but one day he called his horse, put on his own clothes, and galloped about the garden, where the youngest princess saw “Mohammed l’Avisé” from the window, and fell in love with him. He then returned to the water-wheel, and when the head-gardener returned and found the garden in disorder, he wanted to beat him; but the princess interfered and ordered the prince to receive a fowl and a cake of bread every day. The princess then persuaded her mother and sisters that it was time to be married, so the king ordered everybody to pass under the window of the seven princesses, each of whom threw down a handkerchief on the man of her choice. But the youngest would look at no one till at last they fetched the gardener’s boy, when the king was angry, and confined them in a room. The king fell ill with vexation, and the doctors ordered him to drink bear’s milk in the hide of a virgin bear. The king’s six sons-in-law were ordered to seek it, and Mohammed too set forth mounted on a lame mare, while the people jeered him. Presently he summoned his own horse, and ordered him to pitch a camp of which the beginning and the end could not be seen, and which should contain nothing but bears. When the six sons-in-law passed, they dismounted, and asked the attendants for what they required, but they referred them to their king. The latter offered them what they asked, but branded a ring and a circle on the back of each of the sons-in-law. However, he gave them only the milk and hide of old she-bears, while he himself took the milk of a virgin445 bear that had just cubbed for the first time, slaughtered it, put the milk into the skin, and then remounted his lame mare, saying to the horse, “God reward you.” He returned to town, and gave the milk to his wife who took it to her mother. Then the six sons-in-law brought the milk to the doctors, but when they looked at it, they said, “This is the milk of an old she-bear and is good for nothing.” Then they gave the king the other milk, and cured him, but he was much annoyed to hear who had brought it. Soon afterwards a war broke out, and the king pitched his camp outside the town in face of the enemy. Mohammed set out again on his lame mare, the people shouting after him, “Go back, sir, for the soldiers have been defeated.” Then he summoned his horse, put on his own clothes, and said to the horse, “Let your hair shoot forth fire.” Then he came before the king, saying, “I declare for you and your six sons-in-law.” He rushed into battle, smiting with his sword, while his horse shot forth fire. They slew a third of the enemy, and then disappeared, while the king lamented. “Ah, if my six sons-in-law had only done this!” After his exertions Mohammed was tired, and went home to sleep. Next day the same thing happened, but the king put his own ring on his finger. On the third day he slew the remaining third of his enemies, but his arm was wounded, and the king bound it up with his own handkerchief before he departed.
The king gathered together the horses and the spoil, and returned to town, much vexed that his sons-in-law had done nothing. Then the youngest princess asked her mother to send for her father to look at the ring and the handkerchief, when he fell down and kissed the feet of Mohammed, who rose up giddy from sleep, but when he was asked his history, he answered, “I am a prince like yourself, and your six sons-in-law are mamelouks of my father. I beat them, and they took to flight, and through fear of my father, I set out in search of them. I came here and found that they were your sons-in-law, but I imposed silence on them. But as regards your daughter, she saw me in the garden, and recognised my real rank; here is your daughter, O king; she is still a virgin.” Then the wedding was celebrated with great pomp, and Mohammed remained with his father-in-law for some time, until he desired to return to his own country. On his arrival he found that his father had died, so he ascended the throne, and ordered his mother-in-law and the Jew to be burned.
Carlo de Landberg, Básim le Forgeron et Haron Er-Rachid, 8vo., Leyden, 1888.
Text and translation of a modern Arabic story of an unfortunate smith and hashish-eater whom Harun encounters on one of
his usual nocturnal rambles. Harun plays a succession of practical jokes on him, driving him out of his employment
every day, and supping with him every night. At last he bastinadoes him, and throws him into prison, where a jinniyah
takes pity on him, and confers unlimited power on him, which he enjoys for a week, and then dies, to the great grief of
Harun.
439 This great class of tales is quite as widely extended in the north of Europe and Asia, as in the south. We meet with them in Siberia, and they are particularly common in Lapland I believe, too, that the Indian story of the Red Swan (referred to by Longfellow, Hiawatha xii.) is only a Swan Maiden legend in a rather modified form. As usual, we find a bizarre form of the Swan Maiden story among the Samoghitians of Lithuania. The Zemyne is a one eyed venomous snake, with black blood which cures all diseases and neutralises all magic. It is an enchanted maiden; and sometimes the skin has been stolen, and she has reamed a man. But if she recovers her skin, she resumes her snake-form, and bites and kills her husband and children. Many other strange things are related of the Zemyne (Veckenstedt, Mythen, Sagen, und Legenden der Zamaiten, ii., pp. 149-152).]
440 About twenty pounds.
441 Spitta Bey (p. 27 note) suggests that this is a reminiscence of the ancient Egyptian idea of the Scarabûus which typifies life.
442 Southey, in his story of the Young Dragon, relates how Satan, disapproving of the rapid conversion of the inhabitants of Antioch to Christianity, laid an egg, and hatched out a dragon, which he sent to destroy the inhabitants. But a Pagan whose Christian daughter was devoted to the dragon by lot, stole the thumb from a relic (the hand of John the Baptist), as he pretended to kiss it, and cast it into the mouth of the dragon, and blew him up.
443 This is a variant of the Nose-Tree; I do not remember another in genuine Oriental literature (cf. Nights, x., app., p. 449).]
444 How small the world becomes in this story!
445 It is evident that a young she-bear is all that is meant.
Compare Boccaccio’s story of the Devil in Hell (Day iii. No. 11).
[” It has occurred to me that perhaps it would be a good plan to put a set of notes . . . to the ‘Origin,’ which now has none, exclusively devoted to the errors of my reviewers. It has occurred to me that where a reviewer has erred a common reader might err. Secondly, it will show the reader that we must not trust implicitly to reviewers."— DARWIN’S LIFE. ii. 349.]
TO RICHARD FRANCIS BURTON.
The Thousand Nights and a Night.
Athwart the welkin slant the snows and pile
On sill and balcony, their feathery feet
Trip o’er the landscape, and pursuing sleet
Earth’s brow beglooming, robs the skies of smile:
Lies in her mourning-shroud our Northern Isle
And bitter winds in battle o’er her meet.
Her world is death-like, when behold! we greet
Light-gleams from morning-land in welcome while.
A light of golden mine and orient pearl —
Vistas of fairy-land, where Beauty reigns
And Valiance revels; cloudless moon, fierce sun,
The wold, the palm-tree; cities; hosts; a whirl
Of life in tents and palaces and fanes:
The light that streams from THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE.
Isabel Burton,
Tangier, Marocco: Feb. 19, 1886.
The Biography of the Book
and
Its Reviewers Reviewed.
I here propose to produce what may be called the “biography” of a book whereof, methinks, the writer has some reason to be proud, a work which, after occupying him for the third of a century, well nigh half the life of average man and the normal endurance of a generation, can show for result these sixteen volumes. A labour of such parts and magnitude deserves, in my humble opinion, some notice of the main features distinguishing its career, especially of its presentation to Court (Public Opinion) and its reception by the high officials of the Palace, the critics, reviewers and criticasters.
And there is yet another consideration. To ignore the charges and criminations brought forward by certain literary Sir Oracles would be wilfully suffering judgment to go by default. However unpopular and despised may be, as a rule, the criticism of critique, and however veridical the famous apothegm “A controversy in the Press with the Press is the controversy of a fly with a spider,” I hold it the author’s bounder duty, in presence of the Great Public, to put forth his reply, if he have any satisfactory and interesting rejoinder, and by such ordeal to purge himself and prove his innocence unless he would incur wittingly impeachment for contumacy and contempt of court.
It is not only an instinct of human nature expressed by nemo me impurè lacessit which impels to answering in presence of the passers by the enemy at the gate; it is also a debt which his honour and a respectful regard for the good opinion of his fellows compel the author to repay. The man who is feeble enough silently to suffer detraction and calumny at the hands of some sciolist or Halb-bildung sheltering his miserable individuality under the shadow (may it never be less!) of “ King We,” simply sins against himself as the Arabs say and offends good manners by holding out a premium to wanton aggression and injurious doing. The reading world has a right to hear the alteram partem before it shall deliver that judgment and shall pronounce that sentence wherefrom lies no appeal. To ignore and not to visit with représailles unworthy and calumnious censure, may become that ideal and transcendental man who forgives (for a personal and egoistical reason) those who trespass against him. But the sublime doctrine which commands us to love our enemies and affect those who despitefully entreat us is in perilous proximity to the ridiculous; at any rate it is a vain and futile rule of life which the general never thinks of obeying. It contrasts poorly with the common sense of the pagan--Fiat Justitia, ruat cIœlum; and the heathenish and old- Adamical sentiment of the clansman anent Roderick Dhu —
“Who rights his wrong where it was given
If it were in the court of Heaven,”
L. of the Lake, v. 6.
— commends itself far more to what divines are pleased to call “fallen human nature” that is the natural man.
And here before crossing the threshold, I would seize the opportunity of expressing my cordial gratitude and hearty thanks to the Press in general, which has received my Eastern studies and contributions to Oriental knowledge in the friendliest and most sympathetic spirit, appreciating my labours far beyond the modicum of the offerer’s expectation and lending potent and generous aid to place them before the English world in the fairest and most favourable point of view. To number a small proportion of “black sheep” is no shame for a flock amounting to myriads: such exceptional varieties must be bred for the use and delectation of those who prefer to right wrong and darkness to light. It is with these only that my remarks and retorts will deal and consequently I have assigned to them the post of honour. The various extracts from notices, favourable appreciative and complimentary, appear as the “Opinions of the Press” at the end of this volume, and again I take the opportunity of professing myself truly thankful for the good word of the Fourth Estate, and for its wisely detecting the soul of good in things evil.
The romantic and exceptional circumstances under which my large labour was projected and determined have been sufficiently described in the Foreword (vol. i. pp. vii- x). I may here add that during a longsome obligatory halt of some two months at East African Zayla’ and throughout a difficult and dangerous march across the murderous Somali country upon Harar-Gay, then the Tinbukhtú of Eastern Africa, The Nights rendered me the best of service. The wildlings listened with the rapt attention of little lads and lasses to the marvellous recitals of the charming Queen and the monotonous interpellations of her lay-image sister and looked forward to the evening lecture as the crown and guerdon of the toilsome day. And assuredly never was there a more suitable setting, a more admirable mise-en-scène for The Nights than the landscape of Somali-land, a prospect so adapted to their subject-matter that it lent credibility even to details the least credible. Barren and grisly for the most part, without any of the charms gladdening and beautifying the normal prospects of earth, grassy hill and wooded dale, park-like plain and placid lake, and the snaking of silvery stream, it displays ever and anon beauties made all its own by borrowing from the heavens, in an atmosphere of passing transparency, reflections of magical splendours and of weird shadows proper to tropical skies. No rose-hue pinker than the virginal blush and dewy flush of dawn in contrast with the shivering reek of flaming noon-tide, when all brightness of colour seems burnt out of the world by the white heat of sun-glow. No brilliancy more gorgeous or more ravishing than the play of light and shade, the rainbow shiftings and the fiery pinks and purples and embers and carmines of the sunset scenery — the gorgeous death-bed of the Day. No tint more tender, more restful, than the uniform grey, pale and pearly, invading by slowest progress that ocean of crimson that girds the orb of the Sun-King, diminishing it to a lakelet of fire and finally quenching it in iridescent haze. No gloom more ghostly than the murky hangings drooping like curtains from the violet heavens during those traveller’s trials the unmoored nights, when the world seems peopled by weird phantoms and phantasms of man and monster moving and at rest. No verdure more exquisite than earth’s glazing of greenery, the blend of ethereal azure and yellow; no gold more sheeny than the foregrounds of sand shimmering in the slant of the sun; no blue more profound and transparent than the middle distances; no neutral tints more subtle, pure, delicate and sight-soothing than the French grey which robes the clear-cut horizon; no variety of landscape more pronounced than the alternations of glowing sunlight and snowy moonlight and twinkling starlight, all streaming through diaphanous air. No contrast more admirable than the alternation of iron upland whereupon hardly a blade of grass may grow and the Wady with its double avenue of leek-green tamarisks, hedging now a furious rain-torrent then a ribbon of purest sand, or the purple-gray shadow rising majestic in the Orient to face the mysterious Zodiacal Light, a white pyramid whose base is Amenti — region of resting Osiris — and whose apex pierces the zenith. And not rarely this “after-glow” is followed by a blush of “celestial rosy-red” mantling the whole circle of the horizon where the hue is deepest and paling into the upper azure where the stars shine their brightest. How often in Somali land I repeated to myself
— Contente-vous, mes yeux,
Jamais vous ne verrez chose plus belle;
and the picture still haunts me.
And now, turning away from these and similar pleasures of memory, and passing over the once told tale (Foreword, vol. i. pp. viii., ix.) of how, when and where work was begun, together with the disappointment caused by the death of my friend and collaborator, Steinhaeuser concerning the copying process which commenced in 1879 and anent the precedence willingly accorded to the “Villon Edition,” I proceed directly to what may be termed
During the autumn of ‘82, after my return from the Gold Coast (with less than no share of the noble metal which my companion Cameron and I went forth to find and found a failure), my task began in all possible earnest with ordering the old scraps of translation and collating a vast heterogeneous collection of notes. I was fortunate enough to discover at unlettered Trieste, an excellent copyist able and willing to decypher a crabbed hand and deft at reproducing facetious and drolatic words without thoroughly comprehending their significance. At first my exertions were but fitful and the scene was mostly a sick bed to which I was bound between October ‘83 and June ‘84. Marienbad, however, and Styrian Sauerbrunn (bed Rohitsch) set me right and on return to Trieste (Sept. 4, ‘84), we applied ourselves to the task of advertising, the first two volumes being almost ready for print.
And here we were confronted by a serious question, What number of copies would suffice my public? A distinguished Professor who had published some 160,000 texts with prices ranging from 6d. to 50 guineas, wrote to me in all kindness advising an issue of 150 to 250: an eminent printer-publisher would have ventured upon some 500: others rose to 750 with a warning-note anent “wreckage,” great risk and ruinous expenditure, while only one friend — and he not in business — urged an edition of 2,000 to 3,000 with encouraging words as to its probable reception. After long forethought I chose 1,000 as a just middle.
We then drew up a long list, names of friends, acquaintances and strangers likely to patronise the novelty, and caused the following three papers to be lithographed and printed at Trieste.
Captain Burton, having neither agent nor publisher for his forthcoming ARABIAN NIGHTS, requests that all subscribers will kindly send their names and addresses to him personally (Captain Burton, Trieste, Austria), when they will be entered into a book kept for the purpose.
There will be 10 volumes at a guinea a piece, each to be paid for on delivery. Subscribers may count on the first three volumes being printed in March next. Captain Burton pledges himself to furnish copies to all subscribers who address themselves to him; and he also undertakes not to issue, nor to allow the issue of a cheaper Edition. One thousand copies will be printed, the whole Manuscript will be ready before going to press in February, and the ten volumes will be issued within Eighteen Months.
This was presently followed by
The Student of Arabic who reads ”THE NIGHTS“ with this version, will not only be competent to join in any conversation, to peruse the popular books and newspapers, and to write letters to his friends, he will also find in the notes a repertoire of those Arabian Manners and Customs, Beliefs and Practices, which are not discussed in popular works.
The 10 volumes will be handsomely bound in black and gold.
No subscriptions will be until the work is done, and then at Coutts’ Bank, Strand London.
Subscribers who apply directly are preferred.
The author will pay carriage of volumes all over the United Kingdom. A London address is requested.
And, lastly, after some delay, came the subjoined cutting from the Daily Tribune, New York.
“It has already been announced that the first instalment of Captain Burton’s new translation of the Arabian Nights may be expected this autumn. I am indebted to a friend of his for some details which have not yet, I think, been made public. There is still room for a translation of the Arabian Nights. All or nearly all the popular editions of which there are hundreds, are but renderings, more or less imperfect, from Professor Galland’s French version, which is itself an abridgment from the original, and turns a most valuable ethnographical work into a mere collection of fairy tales. Moreover, these English translations abound in Gallicisms, and their style offers but a painful contrast to the French of the seventeenth century. Some years since a Mr. Torrens undertook a complete translation from the original, but his work did not go beyond a single volume, or fifty tales out of the 1,001. Then came Mr. Lane in 1839, whose success was but moderate In his three large and (in the 1839 edition) beautifully illustrated volumes, he has given not more than half the tales. He used the Cairo Arabic edition, which is itself an abridgment, and took all kinds of liberties with the text, translating verse into prose, and excising everything that was not ‘strictly proper.’
“Lastly, there is Mr. John Payne’s excellent translation, which has occupied him during seven years and is just brought to a conclusion. Mr. Payne bound himself to print not more than 500 copies, and his nine volumes, not published but printed, nominally for the Villon Society, are unprocurable except at a price which to the general public is prohibitive.
“Captain Burton began his work on this extraordinary monument of Oriental literature in 1852, at Aden, with some help from his friend Dr. Steinhaeuser, of the Bombay Army. He has gone on with it as opportunity offered, and as other literary and official labours and his many journeys in savage lands permitted. The text and the subject offer many difficulties, and it is to these difficulties that he has devoted especial attention. His object is to reproduce the book in a form as entirely Arabian as possible, preserving the strict division of the nights, and keeping (a more questionable matter) to the long unbroken sentences in which the composer indulged, imitating also the rhythmic prose which is a characteristic of the Arabic. The effect in English remains to be seen, but of the value of Captain Burton’s method as an experiment in literature there can be no doubt, or of its great interest to everybody who cares for Oriental habits of thought and language. He will not shirk any of the passages which do not suit the taste of the day, but these, Captain Burton thinks, will not commonly be found more objectionable than some which are in Shakespeare and in Shakespeare’s contemporaries. At the same time it will be understood that the book is intended for men only and for the study; — not for women or children, nor for the drawing-room table or dentist’s waiting-room. It will be printed by subscription and not published.
“Few are the Oriental scholars in England who could do justice to this picture of the mediaeval Arab. Captain Burton is perhaps the only one who joins to the necessary linguistic knowledge that varied practical experience of Eastern life which alone in many cases can supply the true meaning of a troublesome passage or an accurate comment upon it. His aim is to make the book in its English dress not only absolutely literal in text but Oriental in tone and colour. He knows the tales almost by heart, and used to keep the Bedouin tribes in roars of laughter in camp during the long summer nights by reciting them. Sheiks to whom a preternatural solemnity of demeanour is usual were to be seen rolling on the ground in paroxysms of uncontrollable mirth. It was also Burckhardt’s custom to read the stories aloud, but the Arabs would snatch the book from his hand because his pronunciation was so bad. Captain Burton is said to have an Arab accent not easily distinguishable from the native. When he contents himself with the English tongue here in England, he is one of the most picturesque talkers to be met with. I can remember a certain dinner-party, now many years ago, where the great traveller kept us all listening till long past day-break; narrating, as he did, the most singular adventures with the most vivid fidelity to facts. That, however, is a digression. I have only to add that Captain Burton has the names of many subscribers and will doubtless be glad to receive others which may, I suppose, be sent to him at Trieste. His present hope is to be ready to go to press next February and to bring out the whole of the volumes in 1885.”
(Signed) G. W. S.
Concerning this “American” communication and its author I shall have more to say in a future page.
Some 24,000 to 30,000 circulars were posted at an expense of 126 pounds and they produced about 800 favourable replies which, after my return to England (May ‘85), rose to 1,500 and to 2,000 as my unprofessional friend, and he only, had anticipated. Meanwhile occurred an incident characteristic of such appeals by the inexperienced to the public. A case containing 1,100 circulars had been sent to my agent for mailing in London, and my secretary had unfortunately gummed their envelopes. Hereupon I should have been subjected by the Post Office to the pains and penalties of the law, perhaps to a fine of £200 pounds. But when the affair was reported, with due explanations, to the late lamented Postmaster-General Henry Fawcett — a man in a million, and an official in ten millions — he had the justice and generosity to look upon the offence as the result of pure ignorance, and I received a caution “not to do it again.”
Needless to say that I lost no time about advertising my mistake in the dailies, giving the name of my agent and in offering to refund the money. Some of the sealed and unpaid envelopes had, however, been forwarded prematurely and the consequence was a comical display of wrath in quarters where it was hardly to be expected. By way of stemming the unpleasant tide of abuse I forwarded the following communiqué; to The Academy.
“TUPPENCE AS A TOUCHSTONE.”
Trieste, Nov. 2, 85.
“Can you kindly find space for a few lines on a purely personal matter which is causing me abundant trouble? A box of circulars giving details concerning my forthcoming version of the Arabian Nights was sent to London with directions to stamp and post the contents. The envelopes having been inadvertently gummed down, the case was stopped by the Custom-house, and was transmitted to the Post Office where it was found to contain circulars not letters, and of these sundry were forwarded without prepayment. The pleasant result was that one out-spoken gentleman writes upon the circular, which he returns,--When you send your trash again, put postage-stamps on. A second is peremptorily polite, Please forward four stamps to the Adjutant of the — th Regiment. The ‘Chaplain of the Forces at — — ’ at once ironical and severe, ventures to suggest to Captain Burton that it is advisable, if he thinks his book worth selling, to put the postage on future advertisements. A fourth who, I regret to say, signs himself Lieutenant Colonel, gives me advice about pre-payment written in an orderly’s hand upon a torn envelope (gratuitously insulting!); encloses the 2d. stamp and sends the missive under official cover ‘On Her Majesty’s Service.’ The idea of a French or an Austrian Colonel lowering himself so infinitely low! Have these men lost all sense of honour, all respect for themselves (and others) because they can no longer be called to account for their insolence more majorum? I never imagined ‘Tuppence’ to be so cunning a touchstone for detecting and determining the difference between gold and dross; nor can I deeply regret that circumstance and no default of mine has placed in hand Ithuriel’s spear in the shape of the said ‘Tuppence’.”
I am, Sir, etc.
RICHARD F. BURTON.
The process of filling-up my list presented a fine and varied study of character; and an extensive experience of subscribers, as well as of non-subscribers, presently enabled me to distribute the genus into the following eight species. The friendly subscriber who takes ten copies (more or less) forwarding their value. The gentleman subscriber who pays down his confidingly. The cautious-canny subscriber who ventures £5. 5s., or half the price. The impudent and snobbish subscriber who will address his victim as follows:—
Sir,
Send me the first volume of your Arabian Nights and if I like it I will perhaps take more.
Yours obediently,
X.Y.Z.
And Cynophron will probably receive for all reply:—
Sir,
Send me ten guineas and take one or ten volumes as you please.
Yours obediently, etc.
No. vi. is the fussy and troublesome subscriber who gives more bother than he is worth, and who takes a VICIOUS pride in not paying till pushed to the last point. The professional subscriber fights hard for the most favourable terms, and holds it his vested right to “part” by dribblers. And lastly comes the dishonest subscriber who does not pay at all. I must however, in justice own that species No. viii. is rare: of one thousand the proportion was only about a score.
In mid-June, ‘85, I returned to London and began at once to prepare for issuing the book. Having found the publisher peculiarly unsatisfactory — with one single and remarkable exception my venerable friend, Mr. Van Voorst, whilome of Paternoster Row — I determined, like Professor Arber, to do without him, although well aware how risky was the proceeding, which would, in the case of a work for general reading, have arrayed against me the majority of the trade and of their “hands,” the critics. Then I sought hard, but sought in vain, for the agency of a literary friend or friends, men of name and note, like those who assisted in the Villon version: all feared the responsibility and the expected storm of abuse which, however, failed to burst.
Under these circumstances “The Printing Times,” a professional periodical produced by Messieurs Wymans, was pleased (August 25, ‘85) to be unpleasantly intrusive on the subject of my plan. “We always heard associated with the publication of this important work, the name of Mr. — — which is now conspicuous by its absence, nor is, apparently the name of any other leading publishing house to be identified with its production” (The Printer’s Devil is, I presume, responsible for the English!) The writer then warns me in all (un-)friendliness that if the printers forget to add their imprint, they would become liable to a legal penalty; that the work is unsafe for literal translation and, lastly that although printed by private subscription, “It is likely enough to be pronounced an injury to public morals to the danger of the author and his printers.” The unhappy article concludes, “We await the issue of the first volume since much will depend upon the spirit(!) in which the translation has been undertaken; certainly the original text is not suitable for general circulation (connu!) unless edited with the utmost care and discretion.”
To this production so manifestly inspired by our old friend £s. d., I replied in The Aademy (August 7, ‘85), the gist of the few lines being as follows:—
In answer to many inquiries from friends and others, will you allow me to repeat through your columns, that my translation of the “Arabian Nights” will be strictly limited to 1,000 copies, each sent to picked subscribers, and to renew the promise which I before made, that no cheaper edition shall be printed? Correspondents have complained that I have not stated the price; but I have mentioned over and over again that there are ten volumes, at one guinea each — my object in making it so expensive being to keep it from the general public. I am also troubled with inquiries as to who is my publisher I am my own publisher, inaugurating (Inshallah!) a golden age for authors. Jesting apart the book has no publisher. It is printed by myself for the benefit of Orientalists and Anthropologists, and nothing could be more repugnant to me than the idea of a book of the kind being published or being put into the hands of any publisher.
The first volume dated ”Benares: MDCCCLXXXV: Printed by the Kamashastra Society for Private Subscribers only,” did not appear till September 12, ‘85: it had been promised for March and had been delayed by another unavoidable detention at Trieste. But my subscribers had no further cause of complaint; ten tomes in sixteen months ought to satisfy even the most exigent.
No. i. volume was accompanied by a circular earnestly requesting that the book might not be exposed for sale in public places or permitted to fall into the hands of any save curious students of Moslem manners. Yet the birth of the first-born was accompanied (I am fain to confess) with no small trouble and qualms to the parent and to all who assisted at the parturition. Would the “little stranger” robed in black and gold, the colours of the Abbaside Caliphs, with its brick-red night-cap after the fashion of ecclesiastical bandings, be kindly welcomed or would it be regarded as an abortion, a monster? The reader will readily understand how welcome to an author in such perplexity came the following article from the Standard (September 12), usually attributed to the popular and trenchant pen of Mr. Alfred Austin. I must be permitted to quote it entire, because it expresses so fully and so admirably all and everything I could desire a reviewer to write. And the same paper has never ceased to give me the kindest encouragement: its latest notice was courteous and appreciative as its earliest.
The first volume of Captain Burton’s long-expected edition of the “Arabian Nights” was issued yesterday to those who are in a position to avail themselves of the wealth of learning contained in this monumental labour of the famous Eastern traveller. The book is printed for subscribers only, and is sold at a price which is not likely to be paid by any save the scholars and students for whose instruction it is intended. But though the Benares “Kamashastra Society” are careful to let the world know that the “Thousand Nights and a Night” is not “published” in the technical sense of the term, the pages which will be read by a thousand purchasers may be fittingly regarded as the property of the world at large. In any case, the day when the experience of a life was embodied into this fresh translation of the “Alf Laylah wa Laylah” marks a distinct stage in the history of Oriental research. The world has had numerous versions of these stories. For at least a century and a half they have delighted old and young, until Shahrazade and Dunyazade, the Fisherman and the Jinn, and the tales told by the Tailor, the Kalendar, the Nazarene broker, and the Hunchback . . . to say nothing of Aladdin, Ali Baba, Sinbad the Sailor, and Camaralzaman and Badoura — seem like the most familiar of friends. Yet many of those who know the ordinary epitome prepared for the nursery and the drawing-room have little idea of the nature of the original. Galland’s abridgment was a mere shadow of the Arabic. Even the editions of Lane and Habicht and Torrens and Von Hammer represented but imperfectly the great corpus of Eastern folk-lore which Captain Burton has undertaken to render into English, without regard to the susceptibilities of those who, not having bought the book, are, therefore, in no way concerned in what is the affair of him and his subscribers. The best part of two centuries have passed away since Antoine Galland first turned some of the tales into French, and got stigmatised as a forger for his pains. Never was there such a sensation as when he printed his translations. For weeks he had been pestered by troops of roysterers rousing him out of bed, and refusing to go until the shivering Professor recited one of the Arab stories to the crowd under his window. Nor has the interest in them in any way abated. Thousands of copies pass every year into circulation, and any one who has ever stood in the circle around the professional storyteller of the East must have noticed how often he draws on this deathless collection. The camel-driver listens to them as eagerly as did his predecessors ages ago. The Badawi laughs in spite of himself, though next moment he ejaculates a startling “Astaghfaru’llah” for listening to the light mention of the sex whose name is never heard amongst the Nobility of the Desert. Or if the traveller is a scholar and a gentleman, he will pull out his book for amusement of the company squatted round the camp fire, as did Captain Burton many a time and oft in the course of his Eastern wanderings.
To Captain Burton the preparation of these volumes must have been a labour of love. He began them in conjunction with his friend Steinhaeuser, soon after his return from the Mecca pilgrimage, more than thirty years ago, and he has been doing something to them ever since. In the swampy jungles of West Africa a tale or two has been turned into English, or a poem has been versified during the tedium of official life in the dank climate of Brazil. From Sind to Trieste the manuscript has formed part and parcel of his baggage and though, in the interval, the learned author has added many a volume to the shelf-full which he has written, the “Thousand Nights and a Night” have never been forgotten. And now when he nears the end of his labours it seems as if we had never before known what the beauteous Shahrazad told the King who believed not in the constancy of women. Captain Burton seems the one sober man among drunkards. We have all the old company though they appear in dresses so entirely new that one scans the lines again and again before the likeness is quite recognised. However, Tajal-Mulook will no doubt be as knightly as ever when his turn comes, for the Barber is garrulous, after the old fashion, and the three Shaykhs relate their experiences with the Jinns, the gazelles, and mules as vividly as they have done any time these thousand years or more. King Yoonan and the Sage Dooban are here, and so are King Sindibad and his falcon, the young Prince of the Black Islands, the envious Weezer and the Ghoolah, and the stories of the Porter and the Ladies of Baghdad lose nothing of their charm in the new, and, we may add, extremely unsophisticated version. For Captain Burton’s work is not virginibus puerisque, and, while disclaiming for his version anything like intentional indecorum, he warns the readers that they will be guilty of a breach of good faith should they permit a work prepared only for students to fall into the hands of boys and girls. From the first to almost the penultimate edition of these stories the drawing-room alone has been consulted. Even Mr. Payne, though his otherwise faithful version was printed for the Villon Society, had the fear of Mrs. Grundy before his eyes. Moreover, no previous editor — not even Lane himself — had a tithe of Captain Burton’s acquaintance with the manners and customs of the Moslem East. Hence not unfrequently, they made ludicrous blunders and in no instance did they supply anything like the explanatory notes which have added so greatly to the value of this issue of “Alf Laylah wa Laylah.” Some of these are startling in their realism, and often the traveller who believed that he knew something of the East, winces at the plainness with which the Wazir’s daughter tells her tales to Shahryar, King of the Banu Sasan. The language is, however, more frequently coarse than loose, and smacks more of the childish plainness with which high and low talk in the family circles from Tangier to Malayia, than of prurience or suggestiveness. The Oriental cannot understand that it is improper to refer in straightforward terms to anything which Allah has created or of which the Koran treats. But in his conversation, as in his folk-lore, there is no subtle corruption or covert licentiousness — none of the vicious suggestion and false sentiment that pervade so many of the productions of the modern romantic school.
It is, indeed, questionable whether there is much in these inimitable romances half so objectionable as many of the chapters in Rabelais and Boccaccio. Nor do the most archaic of the passages which Captain Burton declines to “veil in the decent obscurity of a learned language” leave much room for the admirers of Shakespeare, or Greene, or Nash, or Wycherley, or Swift, or Sterne to cry shame. Their coarseness was a reflection of the times. The indelicacy was not offensive to those who heard it. On the other hand, apart from the language, the general tone of “The Nights” is exceptionally high and pure. The devotional fervour, as Captain Burton justly claims, often rises to the boiling-point of fanaticism and the pathos is sweet and deep, genuine and tender, simple and true. Its life — strong, splendid, and multitudinous — is everywhere flavoured with that unaffected pessimism and constitutional melancholy which strike deepest root under the brightest skies. The Kazi administers poetical justice with exemplary impartiality, and so healthy is the morale that at times we descry through the voluptuous and libertine picture “vistas of a transcendental morality — the morality of Socrates in Plato.” In no other work of the same nature is Eastern life so vividly portrayed. We see the Arab Knight, his prowess and his passion for adventure, his love and his revenge, the craft of his wives, and the hypocrisy of his priests, as plainly as if we had lived among them. Gilded palaces, charming women, lovely gardens, caves full of jewels, and exquisite repasts, captivate the senses and give variety to the panorama which is passing before our eyes. Yet we repeat that, though there is much in the excellent version now begun which is very plain speaking, there is nothing intentionally demoralising. Evidently, however the translator is prepared to hear this charge brought against his labour of love. Indeed, there is a tinge of melancholy pervading the preface in which the Editor refers to his “unsuccessful professional life,” and to the knowledge of which his country has cared so little to avail itself. * * * * * Even in the recent Egyptian troubles — which are referred to somewhat bitterly — his wisdom was not utilised, though, after the death of Major Morice, there was not an English official in the camps before Suakin capable of speaking Arabic. On this scandal, and on the ignorance of Oriental customs which was everywhere displayed, Captain Burton is deservedly severe. The issue of the ten volumes now in the press, accompanied by notes so full of learning as those with which they are illuminated, will surely give the nation an opportunity for wiping away the reproach of that neglect which Captain Burton seems to feel more keenly than he cares to express.
This was a sop to the friend and a sore blow dealt to the enemy. Moreover it was speedily followed up by another as swashing and trenchant in the Morning Advertiser (September 15, ‘85), of which long extracts are presently quoted. The journal was ever friendly to me during the long reign of Mr. James Grant, and became especially so when the editorial chair was so worthily filled by my old familiar of Oxford days, the late Alfred Bate Richards, a man who made the “Organ of the Licensed Victuallers” a power in the state and was warmly thanked for his good services by that model conservative, Lord Beaconsfield.
A phrase in the Standard, the “most archaic of the passages,” acted upon
like a red rag upon a rageous bull. I should rather say that it excited the so-called “Sexual I Journal” by suggesting another opportunity for its unclean sensationalism: perhaps also the staff hoped to provide company and a fellow-sufferer for their editor, who was then in durance vile, his of fences being “inciting to an indecent assault” and an act of criminal immorality. I should not have felt called upon to remind my readers of a scandal half forgotten in England, while still held in lively remembrance by the jealous European world, had not the persistent fabrications, calumnies, and slanders of the Pall Mall, which continue to this day, compelled me to move in self-defence, and to explain the mean under lying motives.
Some three years and a half ago (June 3, ‘85), the paper startled the world of London by a prodigy of false, foul, and fulsome details in the shape of articles entitled “The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon.” The object of the editor, Mr. William T. Stead, a quondam teacher in the London schools and a respectable Methodist strengthened by non- Conformist support, in starting this ignoble surprise on the public was much debated. His partisans asserted that he had been honestly deceived by some designing knave as if such child-like credulity were any excuse for a veteran journalist! His foes opined that under the cloak of a virtue, which Cato never knew, he sought to quicken his subscription list ever dwindling under the effects of his exaggerated Russophilism and Anglophobia.
But whatever may have been the motive, the effect was deplorable. The articles, at once collected into a pamphlet (price two pence), as the “Report of the Pall Mall Gazette’s Secret Commission,” and headed by a laudatory quotation from one of the late Lord Shaftesbury’s indiscreetly philanthropic speeches, were spread broadcast about every street and lane in London. The brochure of sixteen pages divided into three chapters delighted the malignant with such sensational section-headings as — How Girls are Bought and Ruined — Why the Cries of the Victims are not Heard — Procuresses in the West End — How Annie was Procured — You Want a Maid, do You? — The Ruin of Children — A London Minotaur(?)— The Ruin of the Young Life — The Demon Child and — A Close Time for Girls, the latter being intended to support the recommendation of the Lords’ Committee and the promise of a Home Secretary that the age of consent be raised from thirteen to sixteen. And all this catchpenny stuff (price 2d.) ended characteristically with “Philanthropic and Religious Associations can be supplied with copies of this reprint on special terms.” Such artless benevolence and disinterested beneficence must, of course, be made to pay.
Read by every class and age in the capital, the counties and the colonies, this false and filthy scandal could not but infect the very children with the contagion of vice. The little gutter-girls and street-lasses of East London looked at men passing-by as if assured that their pucelages were or would become vendible at £3 to £5. But, the first startling over men began to treat the writer as he deserved. The abomination was “boycotted” by the Press, expelled from clubs, and driven in disgrace from the “family breakfast table,” an unpleasant predicament for a newspaper which lives, not by its news, but by its advertise meets. The editor had the impudence to bemoan a “conspiracy of silence,” which can only mean that he wanted his foul sheets to be bought and discussed when the public thought fit to bury them in oblivion. And yet he must have known that his “Modern Babylon” is not worse in such matters than half-a-dozen minor Babylons scattered over Europe, Asia, and America; and that it is far from being, except by the law of proportion the “greatest market of human flesh in the world.” But by carefully and curiously misrepresenting the sporadic as the systematic, and by declaring that the “practice of procuration has been reduced to a science” (instead of being, we will suppose, one of the fine arts), it is easy to make out a case of the grossest calumny and most barefaced scandal against any great capital.
The revelations of the Pall Mall were presently pooh-pooh’d at home; but abroad their effect was otherwise. Foreigners have not yet learned thoroughly to appreciate our national practice of washing (and suffering others to wash) the foulest linen in fullest public. Mr. Stead’s unworthy clap-trap representing London as the head-quarters of kidnapping, hocussing, and child-prostitution, the author invoking the while with true Pharisaic righteousness, unclean and blatant, pure intentions and holy zeal for good works was welcomed with a shout of delight by our unfriends the French, who hold virtue in England to be mostly Tartuffery, and by our cousins-german and rivals the Germans, who dearly love to use us and roundly abuse us. In fact, the national name of England was wilfully and wrongfully defiled and bewrayed by a “moral and religious” Englishman throughout the length and breadth of Europe.
Hard upon these “revelations” came the Eliza Armstrong case whereby the editor of the “Sexual Gazette” stultified thoroughly and effectually his own assertions; and proved most satisfactorily, to the injury of his own person, that the easiest thing in the world is notably difficult and passing dangerous. An accomplice, unable to procure a “maiden” for immoral purposes after boasting her ability as a procuress, proceeded to kidnap one for the especial benefit of righteous Mr. Stead. Consequently, he found himself in the dock together with five other accused, male and female; and the verdict, condemning the archplotter to three months and the assistants to lesser terms of imprisonment for abduction and indecent assault, was hailed with universal applause. The delinquent had the fanatical and unscrupulous support, with purse and influence, of the National Vigilance Association, a troop of busybodies captained by licensed blackmailers who of late years have made England their unhappy hunting-ground.446 Despite, however, the “Stead Defence Fund” liberally supplied by Methody; despite the criminal’s Pecksniffan tone, his self-glorification of the part he had taken, his effronté boast of pure and lofty motives and his passionate enthusiasm for sexual morality, the trial emphasised the fact that no individual may break the law of the land in order that good may come therefrom. It also proved most convincingly the utter baselessness of the sweeping indictment against the morality of England and especially of London — a charge which “undoubtedly had an enormous influence for harm at home and cruelly prejudiced the country abroad.” In the words of Mr. Vaughan of the Bow Street Police Court (September 7, ‘85) the Pall Mall’s “Sensational articles had certainly given unlimited pain and sorrow to many good people at home and had greatly lowered the English nation in the estimation of foreigners.” In a sequel to the Eliza Armstrong case Mr. Justice Manisty, when summing up, severely condemned the “shocking exhibition that took place in the London streets by the publication of statements containing horrible details, and he trusted that those who were responsible for the administration of the law would take care that such outrage should not be permitted again.” So pure and pious Mr. Stead found time for reflection during the secluded three-months life of a “first-class misdemeanant” in “happy Holywell,” and did not bring out his intended articles denouncing London as the head-quarters of a certain sin named from Sodom.
About mid-September, when Mr. Stead still lay in durance vile, a sub-editor Mr. Morley (Jun.) applied to me for an interview which I did not refuse. It was by no means satisfactory except to provide his paper with “copy.” I found him labouring hard to place me “in the same box” with his martyred principal and to represent my volume (“a book of archaic delights”) as a greater outrage on public decency than the two-penny pamphlet. This, as said the London Figaro (September 19, ‘85), is a “monstrous and absurd comparison.” It became evident to me, during the first visit, that I was to play the part of Mr. Pickwick between two rival races of editors, the pornologists and the anti- pornologists, and, having no stomach for such sport, I declined the rôle. In reply to a question about critics my remark to the interviewer was, “I have taken much interest in what the classics call Skiomachia and I shall allow Anonymus and Anonyma to howl unanswered. I shall also treat with scornful silence the miserables who, when shown a magnificent prospect, a landscape adorned with the highest charms of Nature and Art, can only see in a field corner here and there a little heap of muck. ‘You must have been looking for it, Madam!’ said, or is said to have said, sturdy old Doctor Samuel Johnson.”
Moreover Mr. Morley’s style of reporting “interviews” was somewhat too advanced and American — that is, too personal, too sensation-mongering and too nauseously familiar — to suit my taste, and I would have none other of them. Hereupon being unable to make more copy out of the case the Pall Mall Gazette let loose at me a German Jew pennyliner, who signs himself Sigma. This pauvre diable delivered himself of two articles, “Pantagruelism or Pornography?” (September 14, ‘85) and “The Ethics of the Dirt” (September 19, ‘85), wherein with matchless front of brass he talks of the “unsullied British breakfast-table,” so pleasantly provided with pepper by his immaculate editor. And since that time the Pall Mall Gazette has never ceased to practice at my expense its old trade, falsehood and calumny, and the right of private judgment, sentence and execution. In hopes that his splenetic and vindictive fiction might bear fruit, at one time the Pall Mall Gazette has “heard that the work was to be withdrawn from circulation” (when it never circulated). Then, “it was resolved by the authorities to request Captain Burton not to issue the third volume and to prosecute him if he takes no notice of the invitation;” and, finally, “Government has at last determined to put down Captain Burton with a strong hand.” All about as true as the political articles which the Pall Mall Gazette indites with such heroic contempt for truth, candour and honesty. One cannot but apply to the “Gutter Gazette” the words of the Rev. Edward Irving:—“I mean by the British Inquisition that court whose ministers and agents carry on their operations in secret; who drag every man’s most private affairs before the sight of thousands and seek to mangle and destroy his life, trying him without a witness, condemning him without a hearing, nor suffering him to speak for himself, intermeddling in things of which they have no knowledge and cannot on any principle have a jurisdiction . . . I mean the ignorant, unprincipled, unhallowed spirit of criticism, which in this Protestant country is producing as foul effects against truth, and by as dishonest means as ever did the Inquisition of Rome” (p. 5 “Preliminary Discourse to Ben Ezra,” etc.).
Of course men were not wanting to answer the malevolent insipidities of the Pall Mall Gazette, and to note the difference between newspaper articles duly pamphleted and distributed to the disgust of all decency, and the translation of an Arabian limited in issue and intended only for the few select. Nor could they fail to observe that black balling The Nights and admitting the “revelations” was a desperate straining at the proverbial gnat and swallowing the camel. My readers will hardly thank me for dwelling upon this point yet I cannot refrain from quoting certain of the protests:—
To the Editor of the “PALL MALL GAZETTE.”
Sir,
Your correspondent “Sigma” has forgotten the considerable number of “students” who will buy Captain Burton’s translation as the only literal one, needing it to help them in what has become necessary to many — a masterly knowledge of Egyptian Arabic. The so-called “Arabian Nights” are about the only written half-way house between the literary Arabic and the colloquial Arabic, both of which they need, and need introductions too. I venture to say that its largest use will be as a grown-up school-book and that it is not coarser than the classics in which we soak all our boys’ minds at school.
ANGLO EGYPTIAN
September 14th, 1885.
446These Vigilants and Purifiers, with that hypocritical severity which ever makes the worst sinner in private the most rigorous judge in public, lately had the imprudent impudence to summons a publisher who had reprinted the Decameron with the “objectionable passages” in French. Mr. Alderman Faudell Phillips had the good sense contemptuously to dismiss the summons. Englishmen are no longer what they were if they continue to tolerate this Ignoble espionnage of Vicious and prurient virtuous “Associations.” If they mean real work why do they commence by condemning scholar-like works, instead of cleansing the many foul cesspools of active vice which are a public disgrace to London.
And the Freethinker’s answer (Oct. 25, ‘85) to these repeated and malicious assaults is as follows:—
Here is a fine illustration of Mr. Stead’s Pecksniffian peculiarities. Captain Burton, a gentleman and a scholar whose boots Mr. Stead is not fit to black, is again hauled over the coals for the hundredth time about his new translation of the Arabian Nights, which is so “pornographic” that the price of the first volume has actually risen from a pound to twenty-five shillings. Further down, in the very same column, the P.M.G. gloats proudly over the fact that thirty-five shillings have been given for a single copy of its own twopennyworth of smut.
The last characteristic touch which I shall take the trouble to notice is the following gem of September 16, ‘87:—
I was talking to an American novelist the other day, and he assured me that the Custom-house authorities on “the other side” seized all copies of Sir Richard Burton’s “Nights” that came into their hands, and retained them as indecent publications. Burned them, I hope he meant, and so, I fear, will all holders of this notorious publication, for prices will advance, and Sir Richard will chuckle to think that indecency is a much better protection than international copyright.
Truly the pen is a two-edged tool, often turned by the fool against his own soul. So an honest author “chuckles” when his subscribers have lost their copies because this will enhance the value of his book! I ask, Can anything be better proven than the vileness of a man who is ever suspecting and looking for vileness in his fellow-men? Again, the assertion that the Custom-house authorities in the United States had seized my copies is a Pall-Mallian fiction pure and simple, and the “Sexual Gazette” must have known this fact right well. In consequence of a complaint lodged by the local Society for the Suppression of Vice, the officials of the Custom-house, New York, began by impounding the first volumes of the Villon Version; but presently, as a literary friend informs me (February 10, ‘88), “the new translations of The Nights have been fully permitted entry at the Custom-house and are delivered on the payment of 25% duty.” To my copies admittance was never refused.
Mr. Stead left his prison-doors noisily declaring that the rest of his life should be “devoted to Christian chivalry”— whatever that majestic dictum may mean. As regards his subsequent journalistic career I can observe only that it has been unfortunate as inconsequent. He took up the defence, abusing the Home Secretary after foulest fashion of the card-blooded murderer Lipski, with the result that his protégé was hanged after plenary confession and the Editor had not the manliness to apologise. He espoused the cause of free speech in Ireland with the result that most of the orators were doomed to the infirmaries connected with the local gaols. True to his principle made penal by the older and wiser law of libel, that is of applying individual and irresponsible judgment to, and passing final and unappealable sentence upon, the conduct of private individuals and of public men, he raged and inveighed with all the fury of outraged (and interested) virtue against Colonel Hughes-Hallett with the consequence of seating that M.P. more firmly than before. He took up the question of free public meeting in England with the result that a number of deludeds (including Mr. Cunninghame Graham, M.P.) found their way to prison, which the “Christian chevalier” had apparently contracted to supply with inmates. But there is more to say concerning the vaunted morality of this immoral paper. — Eheu! quantum mutatus from the old decent days when, under Mr. Frederic Greenwood, it was indeed “written by gentlemen for gentlemen” (and ladies).
A journal which, like the Pall Mall Gazette, affects preferably and persistently sexual subjects and themes
rubric, works more active and permanent damage to public morals than books and papers which are frankly gross and
indecent. The latter, so far as the world of letters knows them, are read either for their wit and underlying wisdom
(e.g. Rabelais and Swift), for their historical significance (Petronius Arbiter) or for their anthropological interest
as the Alf Laylah. But the public print which deals, however primly and decently, piously and unctuously, with sexual
and inter-sexual relations, usually held to be of the Alekta or taboo’d subjects, is the real perverter of conduct, the
polluter of mental purity, the corrupter-general of society. Amongst savages and barbarians the comparatively
unrestrained intercourse between men and women relieves the brain through the body; the mind and memory have scant
reason, physical or mental, to dwell fondly upon visions amatory and venereal, to live in a “rustle of (imaginary)
copulation.” On the other hand the utterly artificial life of civilization, which debauches even the monkeys in “the
Zoo,” and which expands the period proper for the reproductory process from the vernal season into the whole
twelvemonth, leaves to the many, whose lot is celibacy, no bodily want save one and that in a host of cases either
unattainable or procurable only by difficulty and danger. Hence the prodigious amount of mental excitement and material
impurity which is found wherever civilization extends, in maid, matron, and widow, save and except those solely who
allay it by some counteragent — religion, pride, or physical frigidity. How many a woman in “Society,” when stricken by
insanity or puerperal fever, breaks out into language that would shame the slums and which makes the hearers marvel
where she could have learned such vocabulary. How many an old maid held to be cold as virgin snow, how many a matron
upon whose fairest fame not a breath of scandal has blown, how many a widow who proudly claims the title
univira, must relieve their pent-up feelings by what may be called mental prostitution. So I would term the
dear delights of sexual converse and that sub-erotic literature, the phthisical “French novel,” whose sole merit is
“suggestiveness,” taking the place of Oriental morosa voluptas and of the unnatural practices — Tribadism and
so forth, still rare, we believe, in England. How many hypocrites of either sex, who would turn away disgusted from the
outspoken Tom Jones or the Sentimental Voyager, revel in and dwell fondly upon the sly romance or “study” of character
whose profligacy is masked and therefore the more perilous. And a paper like the (modern) Pall Mall Gazette
which deliberately pimps and panders to this latent sense and state of aphrodisiac excitement, is as much the more
infamous than the loose book as hypocrisy is more hateful than vice and prevarication is more ignoble than a lie. And
when such vile system is professionally practiced under the disguise and in the holy names of Religion and Morality,
the effect is loathsome as that spectacle sometimes seen in the East of a wrinkled old eunuch garbed in woman’s
nautchdress ogling with painted eyes and waving and wriggling like a young Bayadére.
There is much virtue in a nickname: at all events it shows the direction whither the aura popularis sets. The
organ of Christian Chivalry is now universally known to Society as “The Gutter Gazette;” to the public as “The
Purity-Severity Paper,” and the “Organ of the Social Pruriency Society,” and to its colleagues of the Press as “The
Dirt Squirt.” In the United States fulsomely to slander a man is “to Pall Mall Gazette him:” “Just like your Pall
Mall Gazette,” said an American to me when describing a disreputable print “over the water.” And Mr. Stead, now
self-constituted coryphæus of the Reptile Press in Great Britain, has apparently still to learn that lying and
slandering are neither Christian nor chivalrous.
The diminutive Echo of those days (October 13 and 14, ‘85) followed suit of the Pall Mall Gazette and caught lightly the sounds as they fell from the non-melliferous lips of the charmer who failed to charm wisely. The precious article begins by informing me that I am “always eager after the sensational,” and that on this occasion I “cater for the prurient curiosity of the wealthy few,” such being his synonym for “readiness to learn.” And it ends with the following comical colophon:—“Captain Burton may possibly imitate himself(?) and challenge us(!) to mortal combat for this expression of opinion. If so, the writer of these lines will imitate himself(?) and take no notice of such an epistle.” The poor scribe suggests the proverbial “Miss Baxter, who refused a man before he axed her.” And what weapon could I use, composing-stick or dung-fork, upon an anonymous correspondent of the hawkers’ and newsboys’ “Hecker,” the favourite ha’porth of East London? So I left him to the tender mercies of Gaiety (October 14, ‘84):—
The Echo is just a bit wild,
Its “par.” is indeed a hard hitter:
In fact, it has not drawn it mild
’Tis a matter of “Burton and bitter.”
I rejoice to subjoin that the Echo has now (1888) made a name for decent and sensible writing, having abandoned the “blatant” department to the Star (see, for the nonsense about a non-existent Alderman Waterlow, its issue of September 6, ‘88).
In the opinions of the Press will be found a selection from half a century of laudatory notices to which the few
curious touching such matters will turn, while those who misjudged my work are duly acknowledged in this paper. Amongst
friends I would specify without invidious distinction, The Bat (September 29, ‘85), who on this occasion and
sundry others sturdily defended me, showing himself a bird of “light and leading.” To the St. James’s Gazette
(September 12, ‘85), the Whitehall Review (September 17), the Home News (September 18), and the
Nottingham Journal (September 19), I am also indebted for most appreciative and intelligent notices. My
cordial thanks are likewise due to the Editor and especially to “Our London Correspondent” of the Lincoln
Gazette (October 10 and October 17, ‘85, not to notice sundry minor articles): the articles will be reprinted
almost entire because they have expressed my meaning as though it came from my own mouth. I have quoted Mr. J.
Addington Symonds in extenso: if England now possesses a writer who can deliver an authoritative judgment on
literary style it is this littérateur. Of the journals which profess letters The Academy has ever
been my friend and I have still the honour of corresponding with it: we are called “faddists” probably from our “fad”
of signing our articles and thus enabling the criticised to criticise the critic.
I now turn to another of my unfriends, amongst whom is and long has been
This ancient dodderer, who has seen better days, deigned favour me with six notices (January 2 and March 27, ‘86; April 30, June 4, August 14, ‘87, and July 21, ‘88), of which No. i., dealing with my first and second volumes, is written after the facile American fashion, making the book review itself; that is, supply to the writer all the knowledge and familiarity with the subject which he parades before an incurious and easily gullible public. This especial form of dishonesty has but lately succeeded to and ousted the classical English critique of Jeffrey, Macaulay, and the late Mr. Abraham Hayward, which was mostly a handy peg for the contents of the critic’s noddle or note book. The Saturnine article opens characteristically.
Abroad we English have the character of being the most prudish of nations; we are celebrated as having Bowdlerized for our babes and sucklings even the immortal William Shakespeare; but we shall infallibly lose this our character should the Kamashastra Society flourish. Captain Burton has long been known as a bold explorer; his pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, disguised in the dress and taking on him the manners and customs of a True Believer, was a marvel of audacity; but perhaps he may be held now to have surpassed himself, for he has been bold enough to lay before his countrymen a literal and unexcised translation of The Arabian Nights.
The writer is kind enough to pat me upon the back for “picturesque and fluent English” and to confess that I have successfully imitated the rhyming cadence of the original. But The Saturday would not be The Saturday without carping criticism, wrong-headedness and the culte of the common-place, together with absolute and unworthy cruelty to weaker vessels. The reviewer denounces as “too conceited to be passed over without comment” the good old English “whenas” (for when, vol. ii. 130), the common ballad-terms “a plump of spearmen” (ii. 190) and a “red cent” (i. 321), the only literal rendering of “Fals ahmar” which serves to show the ancient and noble pedigree of a slang term supposed to be modern and American. Moreover this Satan even condemns fiercely the sin of supplying him with “useful knowledge.” The important note (ii. 45) upon the normal English mispronunciation of the J in Jerusalem, Jesus, Jehovah, a corruption whose origin and history are unknown to so many, and which was, doubtless, a surprise to this Son of King “We,” is damned as “uninteresting to the reader of the Arabian Nights.” En revanche, three mistakes of mine (“p. 43” for “p. 45” in vol. ii., index; “King Zahr Shah” for “King Suleyman Shah,” ii. 285, and the careless confusion of the Caliphs Al-Muntasir and Al- Mustansir, ii. 817, note i.) were corrected and I have duly acknowledged the correction. No. i. article ends with Saturnine geniality and utterly ignoring a bye-word touching dwellers in glass houses:—
Finally, we mark with regret that Captain Burton should find no more courteous terms to apply to the useful work of a painstaking clergyman than those where in his note he alludes to “Missionary Porter’s miserable Handbook.”
As Mr. Missionary Porter has never ceased to malign me, even in his last Edition of Murray’s “miserable Handbook,” a cento of Hibernian blunders and hashed Bible, I have every reason to lui rendre la pareille.
The second article (March 27, ‘86), treating of vol. iii., opens with one of those plagiaristic common-places, so dear to the soul of The Saturday, in its staid and stale old age as in its sprightly youth. “There is particularly one commodity which all men, therein nobly disregarding their differences of creed and country, are of a mind that it is better to give than to receive. That commodity is good advice. We note further that the liberality with which this is everywhere offered is only to be equalled (he means ‘to be equalled only’) by the niggard reception at most times accorded to the munificent donation; in fact the very goodness of advice given apparently militates against its due appreciation in (by?) the recipient.” The critic then proceeds to fit his ipse dixit upon my case. The sense of the sentiment is the reverse of new: we find in The Spectator (No. dxii.), “There is nothing we receive with so much reluctance as good advice,” etc., but Mr. Spectator writes good English and his plagiarist does not. Nor is the dictum true. We authors who have studied a subject for years, are, I am convinced, ready enough to learn, but we justly object to sink our opinions and our judgment in those of a counsellor who has only “crammed” for his article. Moreover, we must be sure that he can fairly lay claim to the three requisites of an adviser — capacity to advise rightly, honesty to advise truly, and courtesy to advise decently. Now the Saturday Review has neither this, that, nor the other qualification. Indeed his words read like subtle and lurking irony by the light of those phenomenal and portentous vagaries which ever and anon illuminate his opaque pages. What correctness can we expect from a journal whose tomahawk-man, when scalping the corpse of Matthew Arnold, deliberately applies the term “sonnet” to some thirty lines in heroic couplets? His confusion of Dr. Jenner, Vaccinator, with Sir William Jenner, the President of the R. C. of Physicians, is one which passes all comprehension. And what shall we say of this title to pose as an Aristarchus (November 4th, ‘82)? “Then Jonathan Scott, LL.D. Oxon, assures the world that he intended to re-translate the Tales given by Galland(!) but he found Galland so adequate on the whole (!!) that he gave up the idea and now reprints Galland with etchings by M. Lalauze, giving a French view of Arab life. Why Jonathan Scott, LL.D., should have thought to better Galland while Mr. Lane’s version is in existence, and has just been reprinted, it is impossible to say.” In these wondrous words Jonathan Scott’s editio princeps with engravings from pictures by Smirke and printed by Longmans in 1811 is confounded with the imperfect reprint by Messieurs Nimmo and Bain, in 1883; the illustrations being borrowed from M. Adolphe Lalauze, a French artist (nat. 1838), a master of eaux fortes, who had studied in Northern Africa and who maroccanized the mise-en-scène of “The Nights” with a marvellous contrast of white and negro nudities. And such is the Solomon who fantastically complains that I have disdained to be enlightened by his “modest suggestions.” Au reste the article is not bad simply because it borrows — again Americanicè— all its matter from my book. At the tail-end, however comes the normal sting: I am guilty of not explaining “Wuzú” (lesser ablution), “Ghusl” (greater ablution), and “Zakát” (legal alms which constitute a poor-rate), proving that the writer never read vol. iii. He confidently suggests replacing “Cafilah,” “by the better known word Caravan,” as if it were my speciality (as it is his) to hunt-out commonplaces: he grumbles about “interrogation-points a l’Espagnole upside down”(?) which still satisfies me as an excellent substitute to distinguish the common Q(uestion) from A(nswer) and he seriously congratulates me upon my discovering a typographical error on the fly- leaf. No. iii. (August 14, ‘86, handling vols. vi., vii. and viii.) is free from the opening pretensions and absurdities of No. ii. and it is made tolerably safe by the familiar action of scissors and paste. But — desinit in piscem — it ends fishily; and we find, after saturnine fashion, in cauda venenum. It scolds me for telling the English public what it even now ignores, the properest way of cooking meat (à propos of kabábs) and it “trembles to receive vols. ix. and x. for truly (from a literary point of view, of course, we mean) there seems nothing of which the translator might not be capable”—capable de tout, as said Voltaire of Habbakuk and another agnostic Frenchman of the Prophet Zerubbabel. This was indeed high praise considering the Saturday’s sympathy with and affection for the dead level, for the average man; but as an augury of ill it was a brutum fulmen. No. iv. (August 30, ‘87) was, strange to say, in tone almost civil and ended with a touch simulating approval:—
“The labours of a quarter of a century,” writes the translator in L’Envoi, “are now brought to a close, and certainly no one could have been found better suited by education and taste to the task of translating the ‘Nights’ than is the accomplished author of the ‘Pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina.’ His summing up of the contents and character of ‘The Thousand and One Nights’ in the Terminal Essay is a masterpiece of careful analysis and we cannot do better than conclude our notice with a paragraph that resumes with wonderful effect the boundless imagination and variety of the picture that is conjured up before our eyes:—
“Viewed as a tout ensemble in full and complete form, they are a drama of Eastern life and a Dance of Death made sublime by faith and the highest emotions, by the certainty of expiation and the fulness of atoning equity, where virtue is victorious, vice is vanquished and the ways of Allah are justified to man. They are a panorama which remains kenspeckle upon the mental retina. They form a phantasmagoria in which archangels and angels, devils and goblins, men of air, of fire, of water, naturally mingle with men of earth, where flying horses and talking fishes are utterly realistic, where King and Prince must meet fishermen and pauper, lamia and cannibal, where citizen jostles Badawi, eunuch meets knight; the Kazi hob-nobs with the thief. . . . The work is a kaleidoscope where everything falls into picture, gorgeous palaces and pavilions; grisly underground caves and deadly words, gardens fairer than those of the Hesperid; seas dashing with clashing billows upon enchanted mountains, valleys of the Shadow of Death, air-voyages and promenades in the abysses of the ocean, the duello, the battle, and the siege, the wooing of maidens and the marriage rite. All the splendour and squalor, the beauty and baseness the glamour and grotesqueness, the magic and the mournfulness, the bravery and the baseness, of Oriental life are here.”
And now, after the Saturday Review has condescended severely and sententiously to bepreach me, I must be permitted a trifling return in kind. As is declared by the French an objectionable people which prefers la gloire to “duty,” and even places “honour” before “honesty,” the calling of the Fourth Estate is un sacerdoce, an Apostolate: it is a high and holy mission whose ends are the diffusion of Truth and Knowledge and the suppression of Ignorance and Falsehood. “Sacrilege,” with this profession, means the breaking of its two great commandments and all sins of commission and omission suggested and prompted by vain love of fame, by sordid self-esteem or by ignoble rancour. What then shall we say of a paper which, professedly established to “counteract the immorality of The Times,” adds to normal journalistic follies, offences and mistakes an utter absence of literary honour, systematic misrepresentation, malignity and absolute ruffianism? Let those who hold such language exaggerated glance at my pièce justicative, the Saturday’s article (June 28, ‘88) upon Mr. Hitchman’s “Biography of Sir Richard Burton.” No denizen of Grub Street in the coarse old day of British mob-savagery could have produced a more damning specimen of wilful falsehood, undignified scurrility and brutal malevolence, in order to gratify a well-known pique, private and personal. The “Saturday Reviler”— there is, I repeat, much virtue in a soubriquet — has grown only somewhat feebler, not kindlier, not more sympathetic since the clever author of “In Her Majesty’s Keeping” styled this Magister Morum “the benignant and judicious foster-parent of literature”; and since Darwin wrote of it (ii. 260) “One cannot expect fairness in a reviewer;” nor has it even taken to heart what my friend Swinburne declared (anent its issue of December 15, ‘83) “clumsy and shallow snobbery can do no harm.” Like other things waxing obsolete it has served, I hasten to confess, a special purpose in the world of letters. It has lived through a generation of thirty years in the glorification of the mediocrities and in pandering to the impish taint of poor human nature, the ungenerous passions of those who abhor the novel, the original, the surprising, the startling, and who are only too glad to witness and to assist in the Procrustes’ process of trimming and lengthening out thoughts and ideas and diction that rise or strive to rise above the normal and vulgar plane. This virtual descendant of the ancestral Satirist, after long serving as a spawning-ground to envy, hatred and malice, now enters upon the decline of an unworthy old age. Since the death of its proprietor, Mr. Beresford-Hope, it has been steadily going down hill as is proved by its circulation, once 15,000, and now something nearer 5,000 than 10,000. It has become a poor shadow of its former self — preserving the passive ill- will but lacking the power of active malevolence — when journalists were often compelled to decline correspondence upon its misjudgments and to close to complainants their columns which otherwise would have been engrossed by just and reasonable protestations. The “young lions” of its prime (too often behanged with a calf-skin on their recreant limbs) are down among the dead and the jackal-pack which has now taken up the howling could no longer have caused Thackeray to fear or can excite the righteous disgust of that votary of “fair-play” — Mr. John Bright.
And now, before addressing myself to another Reviewer, I would be allowed a few words upon two purely personal subjects; the style chosen for my translation and my knowledge of the Arabian language and literature.
I need hardly waste time to point out what all men discern more or less distinctly, how important are diction and expression in all works of fancy and fiction and how both branches, poetic and prosaic, delight in beauty adorned and allow in such matters the extreme of liberty. A long study of Galland and Torrens, Lane and Payne, convinced me that none of these translators, albeit each could claim his special merit, has succeeded in preserving the local colouring of the original. The Frenchman had gallicised and popularised the general tone and tenor to such extent that even the vulgar English versions have ever failed to throw off the French flavour. Torrens attempted literalism laudably and courageously enough; but his execution was of the roughest, the nude verbatim; nor did his familiarity with Arabic, or rather with Egyptian, suffice him for the task. Lane, of whom I have already spoken, and of whom I shall presently be driven by his imprudent relatives and interested friends to say more, affected the latinised English of the period flat and dull, turgid and vapid as that of Sale’s Koran; and his style proved the most insufficient and inadequate attire in which an Oriental romance of the Middle Ages could be arrayed. Payne was perfectly satisfactory to all cultivated tastes but he designedly converted a romantic into a classical work: none ignores its high merits regarded merely as strong and vital English, but it lacks one thing needful — the multiform variety of The Nights. The original Arabic text which in the first thirteen tales (Terminal Essay, p. 78) must date from before the xiiith century at the latest (since Galland’s MS. in the Bibliothèque Nationale has been assigned to the early xivth) is highly composite: it does not disdain local terms, bye-words and allusions (some obsolete now and forgotten), and it borrows indiscriminately from Persian (e.g. Sháhbandar), from Turkish (as Khátún) and from Sanscrit (for instance Brahman). As its equivalent, in vocabulary I could devise only a somewhat archaical English whose old-fashioned and sub-antique flavour would contrast with our modern and everyday speech, admitting at times even Latin and French terms, such as res scibilis and citrouille. The mixture startled the critics and carpers to whom its object had not been explained; but my conviction still remains that it represents, with much truth to nature, the motley suit of the Arabo-Egyptian. And it certainly serves one purpose, too often neglected by writers and unnoticed by reviewers. The fluent and transparent styles of Buckle and Darwin (the modern Aristotle who has transformed the face of Biological Science) are instruments admirably fitted for their purpose: crystal-clear, they never divert even a bittock of the reader’s brain from the all-important sense underlying the sound-symbols. But in works of imagination mar. wants a treatment totally different, a style which, by all or any means, little mattering what they be, can avoid the imminent deadly risk of languor and monotony and which adds to fluency the allurement of variety, of surprise and even of disappointment, when a musical discord is demanded.
Again, my estimate of a translator’s office has never been of the low level generally assigned to it even in the days when Englishmen were in the habit of englishing every important or interesting work published on the continent of Europe. We cannot expect at this period of our literature overmuch from a man who, as Messieurs Vizetelly assure their clientèle, must produce a version for a poor £20. But at his best the traducteur, while perfectly reproducing the matter and the manner of his original, works upon two lines. His prime and primary object is an honest and faithful copy, adding naught to the sense nor abating aught of its peculiar cachet whilst he labours his best to please and edify his readers. He has, however, or should have, another aim wherein is displayed the acme of hermeneutic art. Every language can profitably lend something to and borrow somewhat from its neighbours, near or far, an epithet, a metaphor, a turn of phrase, a naive idiom and the translator of original mind will not neglect the frequent opportunities of enriching his mother tongue with alien and novel ornaments, which will justly be accounted barbarisms until formally adopted and naturalised. Such are the “peoples” of Kossuth and the useful “lengthy,” an American revival of a good old English term. Nor will my modern versionist relegate to a foot-note, as is the malpractice of his banal brotherhood the interesting and often startling phases of his foreign author’s phraseology and dull the text with its commonplace English equivalent — thus doing the clean reverse of what he should do. It is needless to quote instances concerning this phase of “Bathos:” they abound in every occidental translation of every Oriental work, especially the French, such as Baron de Slane’s honest and conscientious “Ibn Khaldún.” It was this grand ideal of a translator’s duty that made Eustache Deschamps, a contemporary poet, write of his English brother bard. —
“Grand Translateur, Noble Geoffroy Chaucier.”
Here,
“The firste finder of our faire language”
is styled a “Socrates in philosophy, a Seneca in morals, an Angel in conduct and a great Translator,” which apparent anti-climax has scandalised not a little inditers of “Lives” and “Memoirs.” The title is given simply because Chaucer translated (using the best and highest sense of the term) into his English tongue and its linguistic peculiarities, the thoughts and ideas of his foreign models — the very letter and spirit of Petrarch and Boccacao.
That my attempts to reproduce the form and features of the original and thee my manner of writing is well adapted to the matter appears from the consensus of the “Notices” presently to be quoted. Mr. J. Addington Symonds pronounces the version to be executed with “peculiar literary vigour.” Mr. Swinburne is complimentary, and even the Saturday deigns to declare “Captain Burton is certainly felicitous in the manner in which he has englished the picturesque lines of the original.” But le style est de l’homme; and this is a matter upon which any and every educated man who writes honestly will form and express and retain his own opinion: there are not a few who loathe “Pickwick,” and who cannot relish Vanity Fair. So the Edinburgh Review No. 335 (pp. 174, 181), concerning which more anon, pronounces my work to be “a jumble of the vulgarest slang of all nations;” also “an unreadable compound of archæology and ‘slang,’ abounding in Americanisms, and full of an affected reaching after obsolete or foreign words and phrases;” and finally shows the assurance to assert “Captain Burton has produced a version which is neither Arabic nor English, but which has at least the merit of being beautifully unreadable” (p. 182).
It has been circulated widely enough by the Lane-Poole clique —poules mouillees they are called by an Arabist friend — that I do not know Arabic. Let me at once plead guilty to the charge, adding by way of circonstance atténuante that I know none who does know or who can thoroughly know a tongue of which we may say as did honest Izaak Walton of other two crafts, “angling be so like the mathematics that it can never be fully learned.” Most of us can master one section of a language concerning which those who use it vernacularly declare “Only Allah wotteth its entirety”, but we lack as yet the means to study it as a whole. Older by long ages than Babel’s fabulous Tower, and covering a continuous area from Eastern Arabia to the Maghrab al-Aksa (western Mauritania), from Chaldaea in the North to southern Zanzibar, it numbers of potential vocabulary 1,200,000 words all of which may be, if they are not, used, and while they specify the finest shades of meaning, not a few of them, technically termed “Zidd,” bear significations diametrically opposite, e.g., “Maulá” = lord, slave; and “‘Ajúz” with 88 different meanings. Its literature, poetic, semi-poetic and prosaic, falls into three greater sections:— Ancient (The Suspendeds, the Kitáb al-Aghání and the Koran), Mediæval (Al-Mutanabbi, Al-Asm’ài, Abú Nowás and the poets of the Harunic cycle) and Moderns, of whom not the least important (e.g. Yúsuf al-Yazají) are those of our own day. Throughout its vast domain there are local differences of terminology which render every dialect a study; and of these many are intimately connected with older families, as the Egyptian with Coptic and the Moorish with Berber. The purest speakers are still the Badawin who are often not understood by the citizen-folk (e.g. of Cairo, Damascus and Baghdad) at whose gates they tent; and a few classes like the Banú Fahim of Al-Hijáz still converse sub-classically, ever and anon using the terminal vowels and the nunnation elsewhere obsolete. These wildlings, whose evening camp-fires are still their schools for eloquence and whose improvisations are still their unwritten laws, divide speech into three degrees, Al-’Áli the lofty addressed to the great, Al-Wasat used for daily converse and Al-Dún the lowly or broken “loghat” (jargon) belonging to most tribes save their own. In Egypt the purest speakers are those of the Sa’íd — the upper Nile-region — differing greatly from the two main dialects of the Delta; in Syria, where the older Aramean is still current amongst sundry of the villagers outlying Damascus, the best Arabists are the Druzes, a heterogeneous of Arabs and Curds who cultivate language with uncommon care. Of the dialectic families which subtend the Mediterranean’s southern sea-board, the Maroccan and the Algerine are barbarised by Berber, by Spanish and by Italian words and are roughened by the inordinate use of the Sukún (quiescence or conjoining of consonants), while the Tunisian approaches nearer to the Syrian and the Maltese was originally Punic. The jargon of Meccah is confessedly of all the worst. But the wide field has been scratched not worked out, and the greater part of it, especially the Mesopotamian and the Himyaritic of Mahrahland, still remains fallow and the reverse of sterile.
Materials for the study of Arabic in general and of its dialects in particular are still deficient, and the dictionaries mostly content themselves with pouring old stuff from flask to flask, instead of collecting fresh and unknown material. Such are recueils of prayers and proverbs, folk-songs and stories, riddles and satires, not forgetting those polyglot vocabularies so common in many parts of the Eastern world, notably in Sind and Afghánistán; and the departmental glossaries such as the many dealing with “Tasawwuf”— the Moslem form of Gnosticism. The excellent lexicon of the late Professor Dozy, Supplément aux Dictionnaires Arabes, par R. Dozy, Leyde: E. J. Brill, 1881, was a step in advance, but we still lack additions like Baron Adolph Von Kremer’s Beitrage zur Arabischen Lexicographie (In commission bei Carl Gerold’s Sohn, Wien, 1884). The French, as might be expected, began early, e.g. M. Ruphy’s Dictionnaire abrege francais-arabe, Paris, Imprimerie de la Republique, 1810; they have done good work in Algiers and are now carrying it on in Tunis. Of these we have Marcel, Vocabulaire, etc. (Paris, 1837), Bled de Braine (Paris, 1846), who to his Cours Synthetique adds a study of Maroccan and Egyptian, Professor Cherbonneau (Paris, 1854), Précis Historique, and Dialogues, etc. (Alger, 1858); M. Gasselin (Paris, 1866), Dictionnaire francais-arabe, M. Brassier (Algiers, 1871), Dictionnaire pratique, also containing Algerine and Tunisian terms; General Parmentier (Vocabulaire arabe-francais des Principaux Termes de Geographie, etc.: Paris, rue Antoine-Dubois, 1882); and, to mention no others, the Grammaire Arabe Vulgaire (Paris, 1824) of M. Caussin de Perceval (fils) has extended far and wide. Berggren (Upsal, 1844) published his Guide Francais-Arabe des Voyageurs en Syrie et en Egypte. Rowland de Bussy printed (Algiers, 1877) his Dialogues Francais-Arabes in the Algerian dialect. Fr. José de Lerchundi, a respected Missioner to Tangier, has imitated and even improved upon this in his Rudimentos del Arabe Vulgar (Madrid, Rivadeneyra, 1872); and his studies of the Maghrabi dialect are most valuable. Dr. A. Socin produced his Arabische Sprichwörter, etc. (Tubingen, 1878), and the late Wilhelm Spitta-Bey, whose early death was so deeply lamented left a grammar of Egyptian which would have been a model had the author brought to his task more knowledge of Coptic in his Grammatik des Arabischen vulgär Dialektes von Ægypten, (Leipsig, 1870). Dr. Landberg published with Brill of Leyden and Maisonneuve of Paris, 1883, a volume of Syrian Proverbs and promises some five others — No. 2, Damascus and the Haurán; No. 3, Kasrawán and the Nusayriyah; No. 4, Homs, Hamah and Halab (Aleppo), and No. 5, the Badawin of Syria. It is evident that the process might be prolonged ad infinitum by a writer of whom I shall have something to say presently. M. Clément Huart (Jour. Asiat., Jan. ‘83) has printed notes on the dialect of Damascus: Dr. C. Snouck Hurgronje published a collection of 77 proverbs and idioms with lengthy notes in his Mehkanische Sprichwörter, etc. (Haag, Martinus Nijhoff, 1886), after being expelled from Meccah by the Turkish authorities who had discovered him only through a Parisian journal Le Temps (see his Het Mekkanshe Feest, Leyden, 1880). For the lower Najd and upper Hijaz we have the glossary of Arabic words ably edited by Prof. M. J. de Goeje in Mr. Charles M. Doughty’s valuable and fantastic “Arabia Deserta” (ii. 542-690: see The Academy, July 28th, ‘88). Thus the local vocabularies are growing, but it will be long before the ground is covered.
Again the East, and notably the Moslem East since the Massacre of Damascus in 1860, although still moving slowly, shows a distinct advance. The once secluded and self- contained communities are now shaken by the repeated and continuous shocks of progress around them; and new wants and strange objects compel them nilly-willy to provide vernacular equivalents for the nomenclature of modern arts and sciences. Thus the Orientalist, who would produce a contemporary lexicon of Persian, must not only read up all the diaries and journals of Teheran and the vocabularies of Yezd and Herat, he must go further a-field. He should make himself familiar with the speech of the Iliyát or wandering pastoral tribes and master a host of cognate tongues whose chiefs are Armenian (Old and New), Caucasian, a modern Babel, Kurdish, Lúri (Bakhtiyári), Balochki and Pukhtú or Afghan, besides the direct descendants of the Zend, the Pehlevi, Dari and so forth. Even in the most barbarous jargons he will find terms which throw light upon the literary Iranian of the lexicons: for instance “Mádiyán” = a mare presupposes the existence of “Narayán” = a stallion, and the latter is preserved by the rude patois of the Baloch mountaineers. This process of general collection would in our day best be effected after the fashion of Professor James A. H. Murray’s “New English Dictionary on Historical Principles.” It would be compiled by a committee of readers resident in different parts of Persia, communicating with the Royal Asiatic Society (whose moribund remains they might perhaps quicken) and acting in co-operation with Russia, whom unfriends have converted from a friend to an angry and jealous rival and who is ever so forward in the linguistic field.
But if the model Persian dictionary have its difficulties, far harder will be the task with Arabic, which covers incomparably more ground. Here we must begin with Spain and Portugal, Sardinia and the Balearics, Southern Italy and Sicily; and thence pass over to Northern Africa and the two “Soudans,” the Eastern extending far South of the Equator and the Western nearly to the Line. In Asia, besides the vast Arabian Peninsula, numbering one million of square miles, we find a host of linguistic outliers, such as Upper Hindostan, the Concan, Malacca, Java and even remote Yun-nan, where al-Islam is the dominant religion, and where Arabic is the language of Holy Writ.
My initiation into the mysteries of Arabic began at Oxford under my tutor Dr. W. A. Greenhill, who published a “Treatise on Small-pox and Measles,” translated from Rhazes — Abú Bakr al-Rází (London, 1847), and where the famous Arabist, Don Pascual de Gayangos, kindly taught me to write Arabic leftwards. During eight years of service in Western India and in Moslem Sind, while studying Persian and a variety of vernaculars it was necessary to keep up and extend a practical acquaintance with the language which supplies all the religious and most of the metaphysical phraseology; and during my last year at Sindian Karáchí (1849), I imported a Shaykh from Maskat. Then work began in downright earnest. Besides Erpenius’ (D’Erp) “Grammatica Arabica,” Richardson, De Sacy and Forbes, I read at least a dozen Perso-Arabic works (mostly of pamphlet form) on “Serf Wa Nahw”— Accidence and Syntax — and learned by heart one-fourth of the Koran. A succession of journeys and long visits at various times to Egypt, a Pilgrimage to the Moslem Holy Land and an exploration of the Arabic-speaking Somáli-shores and Harar-Gay in the Galla country of Southern Abyssinia, added largely to my practice. At Aden, where I passed the official examination, Captain (now Sir. R. Lambert) Playfair and the late Rev. G. Percy Badger, to whom my papers were submitted, were pleased to report favourably of my proficiency. During some years of service and discovery in Western Africa and the Brazil my studies were necessarily confined to the “Thousand Nights and a Night”; and when a language is not wanted for use my habit is to forget as much of it as possible, thus clearing the brain for assimilating fresh matter. At the Consulate of Damascus, however, in West Arabian Midian and in Maroccan Tangier the loss was readily recovered. In fact, of this and sundry other subjects it may be said without immodesty that I have forgotten as much as many Arabists have learned. But I repeat my confession that I do not know Arabic and I have still to meet the man who does know Arabic.
Orientalists, however, are like poets and musicians, a rageous race. A passing allusion to a Swedish student styled by others (Mekkanische Sprichwörter, etc., p.1) “Dr. Landberg,” and by himself “Doctor Count Carlo Landberg” procured me the surprise of the following communication. I quote it in full because it is the only uncourteous attempt at correspondence upon the subject of The Nights which has hitherto been forced upon me.
In his introduction (p. xx.) to the Syrian Proverbes et Dictons Doctor Count Landberg was pleased to criticise, with less than his usual knowledge, my study entitled “Proverbia Communia Syriaca” (Unexplored Syria, i. 264-269). These 187 “dictes” were taken mainly from a MS. collection by one Hanná Misk, ex-dragoman of the British Consulate (Damascus), a little recueil for private use such as would be made by a Syro Christian bourgeois. Hereupon the critic absurdly asserted that the translator a voulu s’occuper de la langue classique au lieu de se faire . . . l’interprète fidèle de celle du peuple. My reply was (The Nights, vol. viii. 148) that, as I was treating of proverbs familiar to the better educated order of citizens, his critique was not to the point; and this brought down upon me the following letter under the ægis of a portentous coronet and initials blazing with or, yules and azure.
Paris, le 24 Févr., 1888.
Monsieur,
J’ai l’honneur de vous adresser 2 fascicules de mes Critica Arabica. Dans le vol. viii. p. 48 de votre traduction de 1001 Nuits vous avez une note qui me regard (sic). Vous y cites que je ne suds pas “Arabist.” Ce n’est pas votre jugement qui m’impressionne, car vous n’êtes nullement à même de me juger. Votre article contient, comme tout ce que vous avez écrit dans le domaine de la langue arabe, des bévues. C’est vous qui n’êtes pas arabisant: cela est bien connu et reconnu, et nous ne nous donnons pas même la peine de relever toutes les innombrables erreurs don’t vos publications fourmillent. Quant à “Sahífah” vous êtes encore en erreur. Mon étymologie est acceptée par tout le monde et je vous renvoie à Fleischer, Kleinre Schriften, p. 468, Leipzig, 1885, où vous trouverez [‘instruction nécessaire. Le dilettantism qui se trahit dans tout ce que vous écrivez vous fait faire de telles erreurs. Nous autres arabisants et professo (?) nous ne vous avons jamais et nous ne vous pouvons jamais considérer comme arabisant. Voila ma réponse à votre note.
Agréez, Monsieur,
l’expression de mes sentiments distingués,
Comte Lasdberg,
Dr.-ès-lettres.
After these preliminaries I proceed to notice the article (No. 335, of July ‘86) in
and to explain its private history with the motives which begat it.
“This is the Augustan age of English criticism,” say the reviewers, who are fond of remarking that the period is one of literary appreciation rather than of original production that is, contemporary reviewers, critics and monograph-writers are more important than “makers” in verse or in prose. In fact it is their aurea ætas. I reply “Virgin ore, no!” on the whole mixed metal, some noble, much ignoble; a little gold, more silver and an abundance of brass, lead and dross. There is the criticism of Sainte Beuve, of the late Matthew Arnold and of Swinburne, there is also the criticism of the Saturday Reviler and of the Edinburgh criticaster. The golden is truth and honour incarnate: it possesses outsight and insight: it either teaches and inspires or it comforts and consoles, save when a strict sense of duty compels it to severity: briefly, it is keen and guiding and creative. Let the young beginner learn by rote what one master says of another:—“He was never provoked into coarseness: his thrusts were made with the rapier according to the received rules of fence, he firmly upheld the honour of his calling, and in the exercise of it was uniformly fearless, independent and incorrupt.” The Brazen is partial, one-sided, tricksy, misleading, immoral; serving personal and interested purposes and contemptuously forgetful of every obligation which an honest and honourable pen owes to the public and to itself. Such critiques bring no profit to the reviewed. He feels that he has been written up or written down by a literary hireling who has possibly been paid to praise or abuse him secondarily, and primarily to exalt or debase his publisher or his printer.
My own literary career has supplied me with many a curious study. Writing upon subjects, say The Lake Regions of Central Africa which were then a type of the Unknown I could readily trace in the journalistic notices all the tricks and dodges of the trade. The rare honest would confess that they could say nothing upon the subject, they came to me therefore for information and professed themselves duly thankful. The many dishonest had recourse to a variety of devices. The hard worker would read-up voyages and travels treating of the neighboring countries, Abyssinia, the Cape and the African Coasts Eastern and Western; thus he would write in a kind of reflected light without acknowledging his obligation to my volumes. Another would review my book after the easy American fashion of hashing up the author’s production, taking all its facts from me with out disclosing that one fact to the reader and then proceed to “butter” or “slash.” The worst, “fulfyld with malace of froward entente,” would choose for theme not the work but the worker, upon the good old principle “Abuse the plaintiff’s attorney.” These arts fully account for the downfall of criticism in our day and the deafness of the public to such literary verdicts. But a few years ago a favourable review in a first-rate paper was “fifty pounds in the author’s pocket”: now it is not worth as many pence unless signed by some well-known scribbling statesman or bustling reverend who caters for the public taste. The decline and fall is well expressed in the old lines:—
“Non est sanctior quod laudaris:
Non est vilior si vituperaris.”
“No one, now-a-days, cares for reviews,” wrote Darwin as far back as 1849; and it is easy to see the whys and the wherefores. I have already touched upon the duty of reviewing the reviewer when the latter’s work calls for the process, despite the pretensions of modern criticism that it must not be criticised. Although to buffet an anonym is to beat the air, still the very effort does good. A well-known and popular novelist of the present day was a favourite butt for certain journalists who, with the normal half-knowledge of men —
“That read too little, and that write too much”—
persistently fell foul of the points in which the author was almost always right and the reviewer was wrong. “An eagle hawketh not at flies;” the object of ill-natured satire despised —
“The creatures of the stall and stye,”
and persisted in contemptuous reticence, giving consent by silence to what was easily refuted, and suffering a fond and foolish sentence to misguide the public which it pretends to direct. “Take each man’s censure but reserve thy judgment,” is a wise saying when silently practiced; it leads, however, to suffering in public esteem. The case in question was wholly changed when, at my suggestion, the writer was persuaded to catch a few of the culprits and to administer the dressing and redressing they so richly deserved.
And now to my tale.
Mr. Henry Reeve, Editor of the Edinburgh Review, wrote to me shortly before my first volume was issued to subscribers (September,‘85) asking for advance sheets, as his magazine proposed to produce a general notice of The Arabian Nights Entertainments. But I suspected the man whose indiscretion and recklessness had been so unpleasantly paraded in the shape of the Greville (Mr. Worldly Wiseman’s ) Memoirs, and I had not forgotten the untruthful and malignant articles of perfervid brutality which during the hot youth and calm middle age of the Edinburgh had disgraced the profession of letters. My answer, which was temporising and diplomatic, induced only a second and a more urgent application. Bearing in mind that professional etiquette hardly justifies publicly reviewing a book intended only for private reading and vividly remembering the evil of the periodical, I replied that the sheets should be forwarded but on one condition, namely, that the reviewer would not dwell too lovingly and longingly upon the “archaics,” which had so excited the Tartuffean temperament of the chaste Pall Mall Gazette. Mr. Henry Reeves replied (surlily) that he was not in the habit of dictating to his staff and I rejoined by refusing to grant his request. So he waited until five, that is one half of my volumes had been distributed to subscribers, and revenged himself by placing them for review in the hands of the “Lane-Poole” clique which, as the sequel proved could be noisy and combative as setting hens disturbed when their nest-egg was threatened by an intruding hand.
For the clique had appropriated all right and claim to a monopoly of The Arabian Nights Entertainments which they held in hand as a rotten borough. The “Uncle and Master,” Mr. Edward William Lane, eponymous hero of the house, had retranslated certain choice specimens of the Recueil and the “nephews of their uncle” resolved to make a private gold-mine thereof. The book came out in monthly parts at half-a-crown (1839-41) and when offered for sale in 3 vols. royal 8 vo, the edition of 5,000 hung fire at first until the high price (3 pounds 3s.) was reduced to 27 shillings for the trade. The sale then went off briskly and amply repaid the author and the publishers — Charles Knight and Co. And although here and there some “old Tory” grumbled that new-fangled words (as Wezeer, Kádee and Jinnee) had taken the places of his childhood’s pets, the Vizier, the Cadi, and the Genie, none complained of the workmanship for the all-sufficient reason that naught better was then known or could be wanted. Its succes de salon was greatly indebted to the “many hundred engravings on wood, from original designs by William Harvey”, with a host of quaint and curious Arabesques, Cufic inscriptions, vignettes, head pieces and culs- de-lampes. These, with the exception of sundry minor accessories, 447 were excellent and showed for the first time the realistic East and not the absurdities drawn from the depths of artistical ignorance and self-consciousness — those of Smirke, Deveria, Chasselot and Co., not to speak of the horrors of the De Sacy edition, whose plates have apparently been used by Prof. Weil and by the Italian versions. And so the three bulky and handsome volumes found a ready way into many a drawing room during the Forties, when the public was uncritical enough to hail the appearance of these scattered chapters and to hold that at last they had the real thing, pure and unadulterated. No less than three reprints of the “Standard Edition,” 1859 (the last being in ‘83), succeeded one another and the issue was finally stopped, not by the author’s death (ætat 75; London, August 10, 1876: net. Hereford, September 17, 1801), nor by the plates, which are now the property of Messieurs Chatto and Windus, becoming too worn for use, but simply by deficient demand. And the clique, represented by the late Edward Lane-Poole in 1879, who edited the last edition (1883) with a Preface by Mr. Stanley Lane-Poole, during a long run of forty-three years never paid the public the compliment of correcting the multitudinous errors and short comings of the translation. Even the lengthy and longsome notes, into which The Nights have too often been merged, were left untrimmed. Valuable in themselves and full of information, while wholly misplaced in a recueil of folk-lore, where they stand like pegs behung with the contents of the translator’s adversaria, the monographs on details of Arab life have also been exploited and reprinted under the “fatuous” title, “Arabian (for Egyptian) Society in the Middle Ages: Studies on The Thousand and One Nights.” They were edited by Mr. Stanley Lane-Poole (Chatto and Windus) in 1883.
At length the three volumes fell out of date, and the work was formally pronounced unreadable. Goëthe followed from afar by Emerson, had foreseen the “inevitable increase of Oriental influence upon the Occident,” and the eagerness with which the men of the West would apply themselves to the languages and literature of the East. Such garbled and mutilated, unsexed and unsoured versions and perversions like Lane’s were felt to be survivals of the unfittest. Mr. John Payne (for whom see my Foreword, vol. i. pp. xi.-xii.) resolved to give the world the first honest and complete version of the Thousand Nights and a Night. He put forth samples of his work in the New Quarterly Magazine (January- April, 1879), whereupon he was incontinently assaulted by Mr. Reginald Stuart Poole, the then front of the monopolists, who after drawing up a list of fifteen errata (which were not errata) in two Nights, declared that “they must be multiplied five hundred-fold to give the sum we may expect.” (The Academy, April 26, 1879; November 29, 1881; and December 7, 1881.) The critic had the courage, or rather impudence, to fall foul of Mr. Payne’s mode and mannerism, which had long become deservedly famous, and concludes:—“The question of English style may for the present be dropped, as, if a translator cannot translate, it little matters in what form his results appear. But it may lie questioned whether an Arab edifice should be decorated with old English wall-papers.”
Evidently I had scant reason to expect mercy from the clique: I wanted none and I received none.
My reply to the arch-impostor, who
Spreads the light wings of saffron and of blue,
will perforce be somewhat detailed: it is necessary to answer paragraph by paragraph, and the greater part of the thirty-three pages refers more or less directly to myself. To begin with the beginning, it caused me and many others some surprise to see the “Thousand Nights and a Night” expelled the initial list of thirteen items, as if it were held unfit for mention. Cet article est principalement une diatribe contre l’ouorage de Sir Richard Burton et dans le libre cet ouvrage n’est même pas mentionné’, writes my French friend. This proceeding was a fair specimen of “that impartiality which every reviewer is supposed to possess.” But the ignoble “little dodge” presently suggested itself. The preliminary excursus (p.168) concerning the “Mille et Une Nuits (read Nuit) an audacious fraud, though not the less the best story book in the world,” affords us a useful measure of the writer’s competence in the matter of audacity and ill-judgment. The honest and single-minded Galland is here (let us believe through that pure ignorance which haply may hope for “fool’s pardon”) grossly and unjustly vilified; and, by way of making bad worse, we are assured (p. 167) that the Frenchman “brought the Arabic manuscript from Syria”— an infact which is surprising to the most superficial student. “Galland was a born story teller, in the good and the bad sense” (p. 167), is a silly sneer of the true Lane-Poolean type. The critic then compares most unadvisedly (p. 168) a passage in Galland (De Sacy edit. vol. i. 414) with the same in Mr. Payne’s (i. 260) by way of proving the “extraordinary liberties which the worthy Frenchman permitted himself to take with the Arabic”: had he troubled himself to collate my version (i. 290-291), which is made fuller by the Breslau Edit. (ii. 190), he would have found that the Frenchman, as was his wont, abridged rather than amplified;448 although, when the original permitted exact translation, he could be literal enough. And what doubt, may I enquire, can we have concerning “The Sleeper Awakened” (Lane, ii. 351-376), or, as I call it, “The Sleeper and the waker” (Suppl. vol.i.1-29), when it occurs in a host of MSS., not to mention the collection of tales which Prof. Habicht converted into the Arabian Nights by breaking the text into a thousand and one sections (Bresl. Edit. iv. 134-189, Nights cclxxii. ccxci.). The reckless assertions that “the whole” of the last fourteen (Gallandian) tales have nothing whatever to do with “The Nights” (p. 168); and that of the histories of Zayn al-Asnám and Aladdin, “it is abundantly certain that they belong to no manuscript of the Thousand and One Nights” (p. 169), have been notably stultified by M. Hermann Zotenberg’s purchase of two volumes containing both these bones of long and vain contention. See Foreword to my Suppl. vol. iii. pp. viii.-xi., and Mr. W. F. Kirby’s interesting notice of M. Zotenberg’s epoch-making booklet (vol. vi. p. 287).
“The first English edition was published (pace Lowndes) within eight years of Galland’s “ (p. 170) states a mere error. The second part of Galland (6 vols. 12 mo) was not issued till 1717, or two years after the translator’s death. Of the English editio princeps the critic tells nothing, nor indeed has anyone as yet been able to tell us aught. Of the dishonouring assertion (again let us hope made in simple ignorance) concerning “Cazotte’s barefaced forgery” (p. 170), thus slandering the memory of Jacques Cazotte, one of the most upright and virtuous of men who ever graced the ranks of literature, I have disposed in the Foreword to my Supplemental vol. vi. “This edition (Scott’s ) was tastefully reprinted by Messrs. Nimmo and Bain in four volumes in 1883” (p. 170). But why is the reader not warned that the eaux fortes are by Lalauze (see suprà, p. 326), 19 in number, and taken from the 21 illustrations in MM. Jouaust’s edit. of Galland with preface by J. Janin? Why also did the critic not inform us that Scott’s sixth volume, the only original part of the work, was wilfully omitted? This paragraph ends with mentioning the labours of Baron von Hammer-Purgstall, concerning whom we are afterwards told (p. 186) for the first time that he “was brilliant and laborious.” Hard-working, yes! brilliant, by no means!
We now come to the glorification of the “Uncle and Master,” concerning whom I can only say that Lane’s bitterest enemy (if the amiable Orientalist ever had any unfriend) could not have done him more discredit than this foolish friend. “His classical(!) translation was at once recognised as an altogether new departure” (p. 171), and “it was written in such a manner that the Oriental tone of The Nights should be reflected in the English” (ibid.). “It aims at reproducing in some degree the literary flavour of the original” (p 173). “The style of Lane’s translation is an old-fashioned somewhat Biblical language” (p. 173) and “it is precisely this antiquated ring” (of the imperfect and mutilated “Boulak edition,” unwisely preferred by the translator) “that Lane has succeeded in preserving” “The measured and finished language Lane chose for his version is eminently fitted to represent the rhythmical tongue of the Arab” (Memoir, p. xxvii.). “The translation itself is distinguished by its singular accuracy and by the marvellous way in which the Oriental tone and colour are retained “ (ibid.). The writer has taken scant trouble to read me when he asserts that the Bulak edit was my text, and I may refer him, for his own advantage, to my Foreword (vol. i. p. xvii.), which he has wilfully ignored by stating unfact. I hasten to plead guilty before the charge of “really misunderstanding the design of Lane’s style” (p. 173). Much must be pardoned to the panegyrist, the encomiast; but the idea of mentioning in the same sentence with Biblical English, the noblest and most perfect specimen of our prose, the stiff and bald, the vapid and turgid manner of the Orientalist who “commences” and “concludes”— never begins and ends, who never uses a short word if he can find a long word, who systematically rejects terse and idiomatic Anglo-Saxon when a Latinism is to be employed and whose pompous stilted periods are the very triumph of the “Deadly-lively”! By arts precisely similar the learned George Sale made the Koran, that pure and unstudied inspiration of Arabian eloquence, dull as a law document, and left the field clear for the Rev. Mr. Rodwell. I attempted to excuse the style-laches of Lane by noticing the lack of study in English linguistic which distinguished the latter part of the xviiith and the first half of the xixth centuries, when men disdaining the grammar of their own tongue, learned it from Latin and Greek; when not a few styled Shakespeare “silly-billy,” and when Lamb the essayist, wrote, “I can read, and I say it seriously, the homely old version of the Psalms for an hour or two together sometimes, without sense of weariness.” But the reviewer will have none of my palliative process, he is surprised at my “posing as a judge of prose style,” being “acquainted with my quaint perversions of the English language” (p. 173) and, when combating my sweeping assertion that “our prose” (especially the prose of schoolmasters and professors, of savans and Orientalists) “was perhaps the worst in Europe,” he triumphantly quotes half a dozen great exceptions whose eminence goes far to prove the rule.
As regards Lane’s unjustifiable excisions the candid writer tells us everything but the truth. As I have before noted (vol. ix. 304), the main reason was simply that the publisher, who was by no means a business man, found the work outgrowing his limits and insisted upon its coming to an untimely and, alas! a tailless end. This is perhaps the principal cause for ignoring the longer histories, like King Omar bin al-Nu’umán (occupying 371 pages in my vols. ii. and iii.); Abú Hasan and his slave-girl Tawaddud (pp. 56, vol. v. 189-245), the Queen of the Serpents with the episodes of Bulukiyá and of Jánshah (pp.98, vol. v. 298-396); The Rogueries of Dalilah the Crafty and the Adventures of Mercury Ali (pp. 55, vol. vii. 144-209). The Tale of Harun al-Rashid and Abu Hasan of Oman (pp. 19, vol. ix. 188-207) is certainly not omitted by dictations of delicacy, nor is it true of the parts omitted in general that “none could be purified without being destroyed.” As my French friend remarks, “Few parts are so plain-spoken as the introduction, le cadre de l’ouvrage, yet M. Lane was not deterred by such situation.” And lastly we have, amongst the uncalledfor excisions, King Jali’ad of Hind, etc. (pp. 102, vol. ix. 32-134). The sum represents a grand total of 701 pages, while not a few of the notes are filled with unimportant fabliaux and apologues.
But the critic has been grandly deceptive, either designedly or of ignorance prepense in his arithmetic. “There are over four hundred of these (anecdotes, fables, and stories) in the complete text, and Lane has not translated more than two hundred” (p. 172). . . . “Adding the omitted anecdotes to the omitted tales, it appears that Lane left out about a third of the whore ‘Nights,’ and of that third at least three-fourths was incompatible with a popular edition. When Mr. Payne and Captain Burton boast of presenting the public ‘with three times as much matter as any other version,’ they perhaps mean a third as much again” (p. 173). . . . “Captain Burton records his opinion that Lane has ‘omitted half and by far the more characteristic half of the Arabian Nights,’ but Captain Burton has a talent for exaggeration, and for ‘characteristic’ we should reed ‘unclear.’ It is natural that he should make the most of such omissions, since they form the raison d’être of his own translation; but he has widely overshot the mark, and the public may rest assured that the tales omitted from the standard version (proh pudor!) are of very slight importance in comparison with the tales included in it” (p. 173).
What a mass of false statement!
Let us now exchange fiction for fact. Lane’s three volumes contain a total, deducting 15 for index, of pp. 1995 (viz. 618 + 643 + 734); while each (full) page of text averages 38 lines and of notes (in smaller type) 48. The text with a number of illustrations represents a total of pp. 1485 (viz. 441 + 449 + 595). Mr. Payne’s nine volumes contain a sum of pp. 3057, mostly without breaks, to the 1485 of the “Standard edition.” In my version the sum of pages, each numbering 41 lines, is 3156, or 1163 more than Lane’s total and 2671 more than his text.
Again, in Lane’s text the tales number 62 (viz. 35 + 14 + 13), and as has been stated, all the longest have been omitted, save only Sindbad the Seaman. The anecdotes in the notes amount to 44 1/2 (viz. 3 1/2 + 35 + 6): these are for the most pert the merest outlines and include the 3 1/2 of volume i. viz. the Tale of Ibrahim al-Mausilí (pp. 223-24), the Tale of Caliph Mu’áwiyah (i. pp. 521-22), the Tale of Mukhárik the Musician (i. pp. 224- 26), and the half tale of Umm ‘Amr (i. p. 522). They are quoted bodily from the “Halbat al- Kumayt” and from the “Kitáb al-Unwán fí Makáid al-Niswán,” showing that at the early stage of his labours the translator, who published in parts, had not read the book on which he was working; or, at least, had not learned that all the three and a half had been borrowed from The Nights. Thus the grand total is represented by 106 1/2 tales, and the reader will note the difference between 106 1/2 and the diligent and accurate reviewer’s “not much more than two hundred.” In my version the primary tales amount to 171; the secondaries, &c., to 96 and the total to 267, while Mr. Payne has 266.449 And these the critic swells to “over four hundred!” Thus I have more than double the number of pages in Lane’s text (allowing the difference between his 38 lines to an oft-broken page and my 41) and nearly two and a half tales to his one, and therefore I do not mean “a third as much again.”
Thus, too, we can deal with the dishonest assertions concerning Lane’s translation “not being absolutely complete” (p. 171) and that “nobody desired to see the objectionable passages which constituted the bulk of Lane’s omissions restored to their place in the text” (p. 175).
The critic now passes to The Uncle’s competence for the task, which he grossly exaggerates. Mr. Lane had no “intimate acquaintance with Mahommedan life” (p. 174). His “Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians” should have been entitled “Modern Cairenes;” he had seen nothing of Nile-land save what was shown to him by a trip to Philæ in his first visit (1825-28) and another to Thebes during his second, he was profoundly ignorant of Egypt as a whole, and even in Cairo he knew nothing of woman-life and child-life — two thirds of humanity. I doubt if he could have understood the simplest expression in baby language; not to mention the many idioms peculiar to the Harem nursery. The characteristic of his work is geniality combined with a true affection for his subject, but no scholar can ignore its painful superficiality. His studies of legal theology gave him much weight with the Olema, although, at the time when he translated The Nights, his knowledge of Arabic was small. Hence the number of lapses which disfigures his pages. These would have been excusable in an Orientalist working out of Egypt, but Lane had a Shaykh ever at his elbow and he was always able to command the assistance of the University Mosque, Al-Azhar. I need not enter upon the invidious task of cataloguing these errors, especially as the most glaring have been cursorily noticed in my volumes. Mr. Lane after leaving Egypt became one of the best Arabic scholars of his day, but his fortune did not equal his deserts. The Lexicon is a fine work although sadly deficient in the critical sense, but after the labour of thirty-four years (it began printing in 1863) it reached only the 19th letter Ghayn (p. 2386). Then invidious Fate threw it into the hands of Mr. Stanley Lane-Poole. With characteristic audacity he disdained to seek the services of some German Professor, an order of men which, rarely dining out and caring little for “Society,” can devote itself entirely to letters, perhaps he hearkened to the silly charge against the Teuton of minuteness and futility of research as opposed to “good old English breadth and suggestiveness of treatment.” And the consequence has been a “continuation” which serves as a standard whereby to measure the excellence of the original work and the woful falling- off and deficiencies of the sequel — the latter retaining of the former naught save the covers. 450
Of Mr. Lane’s Notes I have ever spoken highly: they are excellent and marvellously misplaced —non erat his locus. The text of a story-book is too frail to bear so ponderous a burden of classical Arabian lore, and the annotations injure the symmetry of the book as a work of art. They begin with excessive prolixity: in the Introduction these studies fill 27 closely printed pages to 14 of a text broken by cuts and vignettes. In chaps. i. the proportion is pp. 20, notes: 15 text, and in chaps. ii. it is pp. 20: 35. Then they become under the publisher’s protest, beautifully less; and in vol. iii. chaps. 30 (the last) they are pp. 5: 57. Long disquisitions, “On the initial Moslem formula,” “On the Wickedness of Women,” “On Fate and Destiny,” “On Arabian Cosmogony,” “On Slaves,” “On Magic,” “On the Two Grand Festivals,” all these being appended to the Introduction and the first chapter, are mere hors d’oeuvres: such “copy” should have been reserved for another edition of “The Modern Egyptians.” The substitution of chapters for Nights was perverse and ill-judged as it could be, but it appears venial compared with condensing the tales in a commentary, thus converting the Arabian Nights into Arabian Notes. However, “Arabian Society in the Middle Ages,” a legacy left by the “Uncle and Master”, and like the tame and inadequate “Selections from the Koran,” utilised by the grand-nephew, has been of service to the Edinburgh. Also, as it appears three several and distinct times in one article (pp. 166, 174, and 183), we cannot but surmise that a main object of the critique was to advertise the volume. Men are crafty in these days when practicing the “puff indirect.”
But the just complaint against Lane’s work is its sin of omission. The partial Reviewer declares (pp. 174 75) that the Arabist “retranslated The Nights in a practical spirit, omitting what was objectionable, together with a few tales(!) that were, on the whole, uninteresting or tautological, and enriching the work with a multitude of valuable notes. We had now a scholarly version of the greater part of The Nights imbued with the spirit of the East and rich in illustrative comment; and for forty years no one thought of anything more, although Galland still kept his hold on the nursery.” Despite this spurious apology, the critic is compelled cautiously to confess (p. 172), “We are not sure that some of these omissions were not mistaken;” and he instances “Abdallah the Son of Fazil” and “Abu’l-Hasan of Khorasan” (he means, I suppose, Abu Hasan al-Ziyádi and the Khorasani Man, iv. 285), whilst he suggests, “a careful abridgment of the tale of Omar the Son of No’man” (ii. 7,, etc.). Let me add that wittiest and most rollicking of Rabelaisian skits, “All the Persian and the Kurd Sharper” (iv. 149), struck-out in the very wantonness of “respectability;” and the classical series, an Arabian “Pilpay,” entitled “King Jali’ád of Hind and his Wazir Shimas” (iv. 32). Nor must I omit to notice the failure most injurious to the work which destroyed in it half the “spirit of the East.” Mr. Lane had no gift of verse or rhyme: he must have known that the ten thousand lines of the original Nights formed a striking and necessary contrast with the narrative part, acting as aria to recitativo. Yet he rendered them only in the baldest and most prosaic of English without even the balanced style of the French translations. He can be excused only for one consideration — bad prose is not so bad as bad verse.
The ill-judged over-appreciation and glorification of Mr. Lane is followed (p. 176) by the depreciation and bedevilment of Mr. John Payne, who first taught the world what The Nights really is. We are told that the author (like myself) “unfortunately did not know Arabic;” and we are not told that he is a sound Persian scholar: however, “he undoubtedly managed to pick up enough of the language(!) to understand The Arabian Nights with the assistance of the earlier translations of (by?) Torrens and Lane,” the former having printed only one volume out of some fifteen. This critic thinks proper now to ignore the “old English wall-papers,” of Mr. R. S. Poole, indeed he concedes to the translator of Villon, a “genius for language,” a “singular robust and masculine prose, which for the present purpose he intentionally weighted with archaisms and obsolete words but without greatly injuring its force or brilliancy” (p. 177). With plausible candour he also owns that the version “is a fine piece of English, it is also, save where the exigencies of rhyme compelled a degree of looseness, remarkably literal” (p. 178). Thus the author is damned with faint praise by one who utterly fails to appreciate the portentous difference between linguistic genius and linguistic mediocrity, and the Reviewer proceeds, “a careful collation” (we have already heard what his “careful” means) “of the different versions with their originals leads us to the conclusion that Mr. Payne’s version is little less faithful than Lane’s in those parts which are common to both, and is practically as close a rendering as is desirable” (p. 178). Tell the truth, man, and shame the Devil! I assert and am ready to support that the “Villon version” is incomparably superior to Lane’s not only in its simple, pure and forcible English, but also in its literal and absolute correctness, being almost wholly free from the blunders and inaccuracies which everywhere disfigure Torrens, and which are rarely absent from Lane. I also repeat that wherever the style and the subject are the most difficult to treat, Mr. Payne comes forth most successfully from the contest, thus giving the best proof of his genius and capacity for painstaking. Of the metrical part, which makes the Villon version as superior to Lane’s as virgin gold to German silver, the critique offers only three inadequate specimens specially chosen and accompanied with a growl that “the verse is nothing remarkable” (p. 177) and that the author is sometimes “led into extreme liberties with the original” (ibid.). Not a word of praise for mastering the prodigious difficulties of the monorhyme!
But — and there is a remarkable power in this particle — Mr. Payne’s work is “restricted to the few wealthy collectors of proscribed books and what booksellers’ catalogues describe as facetiæ’” (p. 179); for “when an Arabic word is unknown to the literary language” (what utter imbecility!), “and belongs only to the low vocabulary of the gutter” (which the most “elegant” writers most freely employ), “Mr. Payne laboriously searches out a corresponding term in English ‘Billingsgate,’ and prides himself upon an accurate reproduction of the tone of the original” (p. 178). This is a remarkable twisting of the truth. Mr. Payne persisted, despite my frequent protests, in rendering the “nursery words” and the “terms too plainly expressing natural situations” by old English such as “kaze” and “swive,” equally ignored by the “gutter” and by “Billingsgate”: he also omitted an offensive line whenever it did not occur in all the texts and could honestly be left untranslated. But the unfact is stated for a purpose: here the Reviewer mounts the high horse and poses as the Magister Morum per excellentiam. The Battle of the Books has often been fought, the crude text versus the bowdlerised and the expurgated; and our critic can contribute to the great fray only the merest platitudes. “There is an old and trusty saying that ‘evil communications corrupt good manners,’ end it is a well-known fact that the discussion(?) and reading of depraved literature leads (sic) infallibly to the depravation of the reader’s mind” (p. 179). 451 I should say that the childish indecencies and the unnatural vice of the original cannot deprave any mind save that which is perfectly prepared to be depraved; the former would provoke only curiosity and amusement to see bearded men such mere babes, and the latter would breed infinitely more disgust than desire. The man must be prurient and lecherous as a dog-faced baboon in rut to have aught of passion excited by either. And most inept is the conclusion, “So long as Mr. Payne’s translation remains defiled by words, sentences, and whole paragraphs descriptive of coarse and often horribly depraved sensuality, it can never stand beside Lane’s, which still remains the standard version of the Arabian Nights” (p. 179). Altro! No one knows better than the clique that Lane, after an artificially prolonged life of some half-century, has at last been weighed in the balance and been found wanting; that he is dying that second death which awaits the unsatisfactory worker and that his Arabian Nights are consigned by the present generation to the limbo of things obsolete and forgotten.
But if Mr. Payne is damned with poor praise and mock modesty, my version is condemned without redemption — beyond all hope of salvation: there is not a word in favour of a work which has been received by the reviewers with a chorus of kindly commendation. “The critical battery opens with a round-shot.” “Another complete translation is now appearing in a surreptitious way” (p. 179). How “surreptitious” I ask of this scribe, who ekes not the lack of reason by a superfluity of railing, when I sent out some 24,000 — 30,000 advertisements and published my project in the literary papers? “The amiability of the two translators (Payne and Burton) was testified by their each dedicating a volume to the other. So far as the authors are concerned nothing could be more harmonious and delightful; but the public naturally ask, What do we want with two forbidden versions?” And I again inquire, What can be done by me to satisfy this atrabilious and ill-conditioned Aristarchus? Had I not mentioned Mr. Payne, my silence would have been construed into envy, hatred and malice: if I am proud to acknowledge my friend’s noble work the proceeding engenders a spiteful sneer. As regards the “want,” public demand is easily proved. It is universally known (except to the Reviewer who will not know) that Mr. Payne, who printed only 500 copies, was compelled to refuse as many hundreds of would be subscribers; and, when my design was made public by the Press, these and others at once applied to me. “To issue a thousand still more objectionable copies by another and not a better hand” (notice the quip cursive!) may “seem preposterous” (p. 180), but only to a writer so “preposterous” as this.
“A careful (again!) examination of Captain Burton’s translation shows that he has not, as he pretends(!), corrected it to agree with the Calcutta text, but has made a hotch-potch of various texts, choosing one or another — Cairo, Breslau, Macnaghten or first Calcutta — according as it presented most of the ‘characteristic’ detail (note the dig in the side vicious), in which Captain Burton’s version is peculiarly strong” (p. 180). So in return for the severe labour of collating the four printed texts and of supplying the palpable omissions, which by turns disfigure each and every of the quartette, thus producing a complete copy of the Recueil, I gain nothing but blame. My French friend writes to me: Lorsqu’il s’agit d’établir un texte d’après différents manuscrits, il est certain qu’il faut prendre pour base une-seule redaction. Mais il n’est pas de même d’une traduction. Il est conforme aux règles de la saine critique littéraire, de suivre tous les textes. Lane, I repeat, contented himself with the imperfect Bulak text while Payne and I preferred the Macnaghten Edition which, says the Reviewer, with a futile falsehood all his own, is “really only a revised form of the Cairo text” 452 (ibid.). He concludes, making me his rival in ignorance, that I am unacquainted with the history of the MS. from which the four- volume Calcutta Edition was printed (ibid.). I should indeed be thankful to him if he could inform me of its ultimate fate: it has been traced by me to the Messieurs Allen and I have vainly consulted Mr. Johnston who carries on the business under the name of that now defunct house. The MS. has clean disappeared.
“On the other hand he (Captain Burton) sometimes omits passages which he considers(!) tautological and thereby deprives his version of the merit of completeness (e.g. vol. v. p. 327). It is needless to remark that this uncertainty about the text destroys the scholarly value of the translation” (p. 180). The scribe characteristically forgets to add that I have invariably noted these excised passages which are always the merest repetitions, damnable iterations of a twice-, and sometimes a thrice-told tale, and that I so act upon the great principle — in translating a work of imagination and “inducing” an Oriental tale, the writer’s first duty to his readers is making his pages readable.
“Captain Burton’s version is sometimes rather loose” (p.180), says the critic who quotes five specimens out of five volumes and who might have quoted five hundred. This is another favourite “dodge” with the rogue-reviewer, who delights to cite words and phrases and texts detached from their contexts. A translator is often compelled, by way of avoiding recurrences which no English public could endure, to render a word, whose literal and satisfactory meaning he has already given, by a synonym or a homonym in no way so sufficient or so satisfactory. He charges me with rendering “Siyar, which means ‘doings,’ by ‘works and words”’; little knowing that the veteran Orientalist, M. Joseph Derenbourgh (p. 98, Johannes de Capua, Directorium, etc.), renders “Akhlák-í wa Síratí” (sing. of Siyar) by caractère et conducte, the latter consisting of deeds and speech. He objects to “Kabir” (lit.=old) being turned into very old; yet this would be its true sense were the Ráwí or story-teller to lay stress and emphasis upon the word, as here I suppose him to have done. But what does the Edinburgh know of the Ráwí? Again I render “Mal’únah” (not the mangled Mal’ouna) lit. = accurst, as “damned whore,” which I am justified in doing when the version is of the category Call-a-spade-a-spade.
“Captain Burton’s Arabian Nights, however, has another defect besides this textual inaccuracy” (p. 180); and this leads to a whole page of abusive rhetoric anent my vocabulary: the Reviewer has collected some thirty specimens — he might have collected three hundred from the five volumes — and he concludes that the list places Captain Burton’s version “quite out of the category of English books” (p. 181) and “extremely annoying to any reader with a feeling for style.” Much he must know of modern literary taste which encourages the translator of an ancient work such as Mr. Gibb’s Aucassin and Nicolette (I quote but one in a dozen) to borrow the charm of antiquity by imitating the nervous and expressive language of the pre-Elizabethans and Shakespeareans. Let him compare any single page of Mr. Payne with Messieurs Torrens and Lane and he will find that the difference saute aux yeux. But a purist who objects so forcibly to archaism and archaicism should avoid such terms as “whilom Persian Secretary” (p. 170); as anthophobia, which he is compelled to explain by “dread of selecting only what is best” (p. 175), as anthophobist (p. 176); as “fatuous ejaculations” (p. 183), as a “raconteur” (p. 186), and as “intermedium” (p. 194) terms which are certainly not understood by the general. And here we have a list of six in thirty-three pages:— evidently this Reviewer did not expect to be reviewed.
“Here is a specimen of his (Captain Burton’s ) verse, in which, by the way, there is seen another example of the careless manner in which the proofs have been corrected” (p. 181). Generous and just to a work printed from abroad and when absence prevented the author’s revision: false as unfair to boot! And what does the critic himself but show two several misprints in his 33 pages; “Mr. Payne, vol. ix. p. 274” (p. 168, for vol. i. 260), and “Jamshah” (p. 172, for Jánsháh). These faults may not excuse my default: however, I can summon to my defence the Saturday Review, that past-master in the art and mystery of carping criticism, which, noticing my first two volumes (Jan. 2, 1886), declares them “laudably free from misprints.”
“Captain Burton’s delight in straining the language beyond its capabilities(?) finds a wide field when he comes to those passages in the original which are written in rhyming prose” (p. 181). “Captain Burton of course could not neglect such an opportunity for display of linguistic flexibility on the model of ‘Peter Parley picked a peck of pickled peppers”’ (p. 182, where the Saj’a or prose rhyme is most ignorantly confounded with our peculiarly English alliteration). But this is wilfully to misstate the matter. Let me repeat my conviction (Terminal Essay, 144-145) that The Nights, in its present condition, was intended as a text or handbook for the Ráwí or professional story-teller, who would declaim the recitative in quasi-conversational tones, would intone the Saj’a and would chant the metrical portions to the twanging of the Rabábah or one-stringed viol. The Reviewer declares that the original has many such passages; but why does he not tell the reader that almost the whole Koran, and indeed all classical Arab prose, is composed in such “jingle”? “Doubtfully pleasing in the Arabic,” it may “sound the reverse of melodious in our own tongue” (p. 282); yet no one finds fault with it in the older English authors (Terminal Essay, p. 220), and all praised the free use of it in Eastwick’s “Gulistán.” Torrens, Lane and Payne deliberately rejected it, each for his own and several reason; Torrens because he never dreamt of the application, Lane, because his scanty knowledge of English stood in his way; and Payne because he aimed at a severely classical style, which could only lose grace, vigour and harmony by such exotic decoration. In these matters every writer has an undoubted right to carry out his own view, remembering the while that it is impossible to please all tastes. I imitated the Saj’a, because I held it to be an essential part of the work and of my fifty reviewers none save the Edinburgh considered the reproduction of the original manner aught save a success. I care only to satisfy those whose judgment is satisfactory: “the abuse and contempt of ignorant writers hurts me very little,” as Darwin says (iii. 88), and we all hold with Don Quixote that, es mejor ser loado de los pocos sabios, que burlado de los muchos necios.
“This amusement (of reproducing the Saj’a) may be carried to any length (how?), and we do not see why Captain Burton neglects the metre of the poetry, or divides his translation into sentences by stops, or permits any break in the continuity of the narrative, since none such exists in the Arabic” (p. 182). My reply is that I neglect the original metres first and chiefly because I do not care to “caper in fetters,” as said Drummond of Hawthornden; and, secondly, because many of them are unfamiliar and consequently unpleasant to English ears. The exceptions are mostly two, the Rajaz (Anapaests and Iambs, Terminal Essay, x. 253), and the Tawíl or long measure (ibid. pp. 242, 255), which Mr. Lyall (Translations of Ancient Arab. Poetry, p. xix.) compares with “Abt Vogler,”
And there! ye have heard and seen: consider and bow the head.
This metre greatly outnumbers all others in The Nights; but its lilting measure by no means suits every theme, and in English it is apt to wax monotonous.
“The following example of a literal rendering which Mr. Payne adduces (vol. ix. 381: camp. my vol. v. 66) in order to show the difficulty of turning the phraseology of the original into good English, should have served Captain Burton as a model, and we are surprised he has not adopted so charmingly cumbrous a style” (p. 102). I shall quote the whole passage in question and shall show that by the most unimportant changes, omissions and transpositions, without losing a word, the whole becomes excellent English, and falls far behind the Reviewer’s style in the contention for “cumbrousness”:—
“When morrowed the morning he bedabbled his feet with the water they twain had expressed from the herb and, going-down to the sea, went thereupon, walking days and nights, he wondering the while at the horrors of the ocean and the marvels and rarities thereof. And he ceased not faring over the face of the waters till he arrived at an island as indeed it were Paradise. So Bulukiya went up thereto and fell to wondering thereanent and at the beauties thereof; and he found it a great island whose dust was saffron and its gravel were carnelian and precious stones: its edges were gelsomine and the growth was the goodliest of the trees and the brightest of the scented herbs and the sweetest of them. Its rivulets were a-flowing; its brushwood was of the Comorin aloe and the Sumatran lign- aloes; its reeds were sugar-canes and round about it bloomed rose and narcissus and amaranth and gilliflower and chamomile and lily and violet, all therein being of several kinds and different tints. The birds warbled upon those trees and the whole island was fair of attributes and spacious of sides and abundant of good things, comprising in fine all of beauty and loveliness,” etc. (Payne, vol. ix. p. 381).
The Reviewer cites in his list, but evidently has not read, the “Tales from the Arabic,” etc., printed as a sequel to The Nights, or he would have known that Mr. Payne, for the second part of his work, deliberately adopted a style literal as that above-quoted because it was the liveliest copy of the original.
We now come to the crucial matter of my version, the annotative concerning which this “decent gentleman,” as we suppose this critic would entitle himself (p. 185), finds a fair channel of discharge for vituperative rhetoric. But before entering upon this subject I must be allowed to repeat a twice-told tale and once more to give the raison d’être of my long labour. When a friend asked me point-blank why I was bringing out my translation so soon after another and a most scholarly version, my reply was as follows:—“Sundry students of Orientalism assure me that they are anxious to have the work in its crudest and most realistic form. I have received letters saying, Let us know (you who can) what the Arab of The Nights was: if good and high-minded let us see him: if witty and humorous let us hear him: if coarse and uncultivated, rude, childish and indecent, still let us have him to the very letter. We want for once the genuine man. We would have a mediæval Arab telling the tales and traditions with the lays and legends of his own land in his own way, and showing the world what he has remained and how he has survived to this day, while we Westerns have progressed in culture and refinement. Above all things give us the naive and plain-spoken language of the original — such a contrast with the English of our times — and show us, by the side of these enfantillages, the accumulated wit and wisdom, life-knowledge and experience of an old-world race. We want also the technique of the Recueil, its division into nights, its monorhyme, in fact everything that gives it cachet and character.” Now I could satisfy the longing, which is legitimate enough, only by annotation, by a running commentary, as it were, enabling the student to read between the lines and to understand hints and innuendoes that would otherwise have passed by wholly unheeded. I determined that subscribers should find in my book what does not occur in any other, making it a repertory of Eastern knowledge in its esoteric phase, by no means intended for the many-headed but solely for the few who are not too wise to learn or so ignorant as to ignore their own ignorance. I regretted to display the gross and bestial vices of the original, in the rare places where obscenity becomes rampant, but not the less I held it my duty to translate the text word for word, instead of garbling it and mangling it by perversion and castration. My rendering (I promised) would be something novel, wholly different from all other versions, and it would leave very little for any future interpreter.453
And I resolved that, in case of the spiteful philanthropy and the rabid pornophobic suggestion of certain ornaments of the Home-Press being acted upon, to appear in Court with my version of The Nights in one hand and bearing in the other the Bible (especially the Old Testament, a free translation from an ancient Oriental work) and Shakespeare, with Petronius Arbiter and Rabelais by way of support and reserve. The two former are printed by millions; they find their way into the hands of children, and they are the twin columns which support the scanty edifice of our universal home-reading. The Arbiter is sotadical as Abú Nowás and the Curé of Meudon is surpassing in what appears uncleanness to the eye of outsight not of insight. Yet both have been translated textually and literally by eminent Englishmen and gentlemen, and have been printed and published as an “extra series” by Mr. Bohn’s most respectable firm and solo by Messieurs Bell and Daldy. And if The Nights are to be bowdlerised for students, why not, I again ask, mutilate Plato and Juvenal, the Romances of the Middle Ages, Boccaccio and Petrarch and the Elizabethan dramatists one and all? What hypocrisy to blaterate about The Nights in presence of such triumphs of the Natural! How absurd to swallow such camels and to strain at my midge!
But I had another object while making the notes a Repertory of Eastern knowledge in its esoteric form (Foreword, p. xvii.). Having failed to free the Anthropological Society from the fetters of mauvaise honte and the mock-modesty which compels travellers and ethnological students to keep silence concerning one side of human nature (and that side the most interesting to mankind), I proposed to supply the want in these pages. The England of our day would fain bring up both sexes and keep all ages in profound ignorance of sexual and intersexual relations; and the consequences of that imbecility are peculiarly cruel and afflicting. How often do we hear women in Society lamenting that they have absolutely no knowledge of their own physiology; and at what heavy price must this fruit of the knowledge-tree be bought by the young first entering life. Shall we ever understand that ignorance is not innocence? What an absurdum is a veteran officer who has spent a quarter-century in the East without learning that all Moslem women are circumcised, and without a notion of how female circumcision is effected; without an idea of the difference between the Jewish and the Moslem rite as regards males; without an inkling of the Armenian process whereby the cutting is concealed, and without the slightest theoretical knowledge concerning the mental and spiritual effect of the operation. Where then is the shame of teaching what it is shameful not to have learnt? But the ultra-delicacy, the squeamishness of an age which is by no means purer or more virtuous than its ruder predecessors, has ended in trenching upon the ridiculous. Let us see what the modern English woman and her Anglo-American sister have become under the working of a mock-modesty which too often acts cloak to real dévergondage; and how Respectability unmakes what Nature made. She has feet but no “toes”; ankles but no “calves”; knees but no “thighs”; a stomach but no “belly” nor “bowels”; a heart but no “bladder” nor “groin”; a liver end no “kidneys”; hips and no “haunches”; a bust and no “backside” nor “buttocks”: in fact, she is a monstrum, a figure fit only to frighten the crows.
But the Edinburgh knows nothing of these things, and the “decent gentleman,” like the lady who doth protest overmuch, persistently fixes his eye upon a single side of the shield.” Probably no European has ever gathered such an appalling collection of degrading customs and statistics of vice as is contained in Captain Burton’s translation of the ‘Arabian Nights’ (p. 185). He finds in the case of Mr. Payne, like myself, “no adequate justification for flooding the world (!) with an ocean of filth” (ibid.) showing that he also can be (as said the past-master of catch-words, the primus verborum artifex) “an interested rhetorician inebriated with the exuberance of his own verbosity.” But audi alteram partem— my view of the question. I have no apology to make for the details offered to the students of Moslem usages and customs, who will find in them much to learn and more to suggest the necessity of learning. On no wise ashamed am I of lecturing upon these esoteric matters, the most important to humanity, at a time when their absence from the novel of modern society veils with a double gloom the night-side of human nature. Nay, I take pride to myself for so doing in the face of silly prejudice and miserable hypocrisy, and I venture to hold myself in the light of a public benefactor. In fact, I consider my labours as a legacy bequeathed to my countrymen at a most critical time when England the puissantest of Moslem powers is called upon, without adequate knowledge of the Moslem’s inner life, to administer Egypt as well as to rule India. And while Pharisee and Philister may be or may pretend to be “shocked” and “horrified” by my pages, the sound common sense of a public, which is slowly but surely emancipating itself from the prudish and prurient reticences and the immodest and immoral modesties of the early xixth century, will in good time do me, I am convinced, full and ample justice.
In p. 184 the Reviewer sneers at me for writing “Roum” in lieu of Rum or Rúm; but what would the latter have suggested to the home-reader save a reference to the Jamaican drink? He also corrects me (vol. v. 248) in the matter of the late Mr. Emanuel Deutsch (p. 184), who excised “our Saviour” from the article on the Talmud reprinted amongst his literary remains. The Reviewer, or inspirer of the Review, let me own, knew more of Mr. Deutsch than I, a simple acquaintance, could know; but perhaps he does not know all, and if he did he probably would not publish his knowledge. The truth is that Mr. Deutsch was, during his younger years, a liberal, nay, a latitudinarian in religion, differing little from the so-styled “Christian Unitarian.” But when failing health drove him to Egypt and his hour drew nigh he became (and all honour to him!) the scrupulous and even fanatical Hebrew of the Hebrews; he consorted mainly with the followers and divines of his own faith, and it is said that he ordered himself when dying to be taken out of bed and placed upon the bare floor. The “Saviour” of the article was perhaps written in his earlier phase of religious thought, and it was excised as the end drew in sight.
“Captain Burton’s experience in the East seems to have obliterated any (all?) sentiments of chivalry, for he is never weary of recording disparaging estimates of women, and apparently delights in discovering evidence of ‘feminine devilry”’ (p. 184). This argumentum ad feminam is sharpish practice, much after the manner of the Christian “Fathers of the Church” who, themselves vehemently doubting the existence of souls non- masculine, falsely and foolishly ascribed the theory and its consequences to Mohammed and the Moslems. And here the Persian proverb holds good “Harf-i-kufr kufr níst”— to speak of blasphemy is not blasphemous. Curious readers will consult the article “Woman” in my Terminal Essay (x. 167), which alone refutes this silly scandal. I never pretended to understand woman, and, as Balzac says, no wonder man fails when He who created her was by no means successful. But in The Nights we meet principally Egyptian maids, matrons and widows, of whose “devilry” I cannot speak too highly, and in this matter even the pudibund Lane is as free-spoken as myself. Like the natives of warm, damp and malarious lowlands and river-valleys adjacent to rugged and healthy uplands, such as Mazanderán, Sind, Malabar and California, the passions and the sexual powers of the females greatly exceed those of their males, and hence a notable development of the crude form of polyandry popularly termed whoredom. Nor have the women of the Nile valley improved under our rule. The last time I visited Cairo a Fellah wench, big, burly and boisterous, threatened one morning, in a fine new French avenue off the Ezbekiyah Gardens, to expose her person unless bought off with a piastre. And generally the condition of womenkind throughout the Nile-valley reminded me of that frantic outbreak of debauchery which characterised Afghanistán during its ill-judged occupation by Lord Auckland, and Sind after the conquest by Sir Charles Napier.
“Captain Burton actually depends upon the respectable and antiquated D’Herbelot for his information” (p. 184). This silly skit at the two great French Orientalists, D’Herbelot and Galland, is indeed worthy of a clique which, puff and struggle however much it will, can never do a tithe of the good work found in the Bibliothéque Orientale. The book was issued in an unfinished state; in many points it has been superseded, during its life of a century and a half, by modern studies, but it is still a mine of facts, and a revised edition would be a boon to students. Again, I have consulted Prof. Palmer’s work, and the publications of the Palæographical Society (p. 184); but I nowhere find the proofs that the Naskhi character (vol. i. 128) so long preceded the Cufic which, amongst vulgar Moslems, is looked upon like black letter in Europe. But Semitic epigraphy is only now entering upon its second stage of study, the first being mere tentative ignorance: about 80 years ago the illustrious De Sacy proved, in a learned memoir, the non-existence of letters in Arabia before the days of Mohammed. But Palmer454, Halevy, Robertson Smith, Doughty and Euting have changed all that, and Herr Eduard Glaser of Prague is now bringing back from Sana’á some 390 Sabaean epigraphs — a mass of new-old literature.
And now, having passed in review, and having been much scandalised by the “extravagant claims of the complete translations over the Standard Version”— a term which properly applies only to the Editio princeps, 3 vols. 8vo — the Edinburgh delivers a parting and insolent sting. “The different versions, however, have each its proper destination — Galland for the nursery, Lane for the library, Payne for the study, and Burton for the sewers” (p. 184). I need hardly attempt to precise the ultimate and well merited office of his article: the gall in that ink may enable it hygienically to excel for certain purposes the best of “curl-papers.” Then our critic passes to the history of the work concerning which nothing need be said: it is bodily borrowed from Lane’s Preface (pp. ix. xv.), and his Terminal Review (iii. 735-47) with a few unimportant and uninteresting details taken from Al-Makrízí, and probably from the studies of the late Rogers Bey (pp. 191-92). Here the cult of the Uncle and Master emerges most extravagantly. “It was Lane who first brought out the importance of the ‘Arabian Nights’ as constituting a picture of Moslem life and manners” (p. 192); thus wholly ignoring the claims of Galland, to whom and whom alone the honour is due. But almost every statement concerning the French Professor involves more or less of lapse. “It was in 1704 that Antoine Galland, sometime of the French embassy at Constantinople, but then professor at the Collége de France, presented the world with the contents of an Arab Manuscript which he had brought from Syria and which bore the title of ‘The Thousand Nights and One Night’” (p. 167), thus ignoring the famous Il a fallu le faire venir de Syrie. At that time (1704) Galland was still at Caen in the employ of “L’intendant Fouquet”; and he brought with him no MS., as he himself expressly assures us in Preface to his first volume. Here are two telling mistakes in one page, and in the next (p. 168) we find “As a professed translation Galland’s ‘Mille et une Nuits’ (N.B. the Frenchman always wrote Mille et une Nuit)455 is an audacious fraud. “It requires something more than” audacity “to offer such misstatement even in the pages of the Edinburgh, and can anything be falser than to declare “the whole of the last fourteen tales have nothing whatever to do with the ‘Nights’"?
These bévues, which give us the fairest measure for the Reviewer’s competence to review, are followed (p. 189) by a series of obsolete assertions. “The highest authority on this point (the date) is the late Mr. Lane, who states his unqualified conviction that the tales represent the social life of mediaerval Egypt, and he selects a period approaching the close of the fifteenth century as the probable date of collection, though some of the tales are, he believes, rather later” (p. 189). Mr. Lane’s studies upon the subject were painfully perfunctory. He distinctly states (Preface, p. xii.) that “the work was commenced and completed by one man,” or at least that “one man completed what another commenced.” With a marvellous want of critical acumen he could not distinguish the vast difference of style and diction, treatment and sentiments, which at once strikes every intelligent reader, and which proves incontestably that many hands took part in the Great Saga-book. He speaks of “Galland’s very imperfect MS.,” but he never took the trouble to inspect the three volumes in question which are still in the Bibliothèque Nationale. And when he opines that “it (the work) was most probably not commenced earlier than the fifteenth century of our era” (Pref. p. xiii.) M. Hermann Zotenberg, judging from the style of writing, would attribute the MS. to the beginning456 of the xivth century. The French Savant has printed a specimen page in his Histoire d’Alâ al-Dîn (p. 6; see my Suppl. vol. iii., Foreword p. ix.); and now, at the request of sundry experts, he is preparing for publication other proofs which confirm his opinion. We must correct Lane’s fifteenth century to thirteenth century — a difference of only 200 years.457
After this unhappy excursus the Reviewer proceeds to offer a most unintelligent estimate of the Great Recueil. “Enchantment” may be “a constant motive,” but it is wholly secondary and subservient: “the true and universal theme is love;” “‘all are but the ministers of love’ absolutely subordinate to the great theme” (p. 193). This is the usual half-truth and whole unfact. Love and war, or rather war and love, form the bases of all romantic fiction even as they are the motor power of the myriad forms and fashions of dancing. This may not appear from Lane’s mangled and mutilated version which carefully omits all the tales of chivalry and conquest as the History of Gharíb and his brother ‘Ajíb (vol. vi. 257) and that of Omar ibn Al-Nu’umán, “which is, as a whole so very unreadable” (p. 172) though by no means more so than our European romances. But the reverse is the case with the original composition. Again, “These romantic lovers who will go through fire to meet each other, are not in themselves interesting characters: it may be questioned whether they have any character at all” (p. 195). “The story and not the delineation of character is the essence of the ‘Arabian Nights’” (p. 196). I can only marvel at the utter want of comprehension and appreciation with which this critic read what he wrote about: one hemisphere of his brain must have been otherwise occupied and his mental cecity makes him a phenomenon even amongst reviewers. He thus ignores all the lofty morale of the work, its marvellous pathos and humour, its tender sentiment and fine touches of portraiture, the personal individuality and the nice discrimination between the manifold heroes and heroines which combine to make it a book for all time.
The critic ends his article with doing what critics should carefully avoid to do. After shrewdly displaying his powers of invective and depreciation he has submitted to his readers a sample of his own workmanship. He persists in writing “Zobeyda,” “Khalifa,” “Aziza” (p. 194) and “Kahramana” (p. 199) without the terminal aspirate which, in Arabic if not in Turkish, is a sine quâ non (see my Suppl. vol. v. 302). He preserves the pretentious blunder “The Khalif” (p. 193), a word which does not exist in Arabic. He translates (p. 181), although I have taught him to do better, “Hádimu ‘I-Lizzáti wa Mufarriku ‘l-Jama’át,” by “Terminator of Delights and Separator of Companies” instead of Destroyer of delights and Severer of societies. And lastly he pads the end of his article (pp. 196-199) with five dreary extracts from Lane (i. 372-73) who can be dull even when translating the Immortal Barber.
The first quotation is so far changed that the peppering of commas (three to the initial line of the original) disappears to the reader’s gain, Lane’s textual date (App. 263) is also exchanged for that of the notes (A.H. 653); and the “æra of Alexander,” A.M. 7320, an absurdity which has its value in proving the worthlessness of such chronology, is clean omitted, because Lane used the worthless Bull Edit. The latinisms due to Lane show here in force —“Looked for a considerable time” (Maliyyan = for a long while); “there is an announcement that presenteth itself to me” (a matter which hath come to my knowledge) and “thou hast dissipated458 my mind” (Azhakta rúhí = thou scatterest my wits, in the Calc. Edit. Saghgharta rúhí = thou belittles” my mind). But even Lane never wrote “I only required thee to shave my head”— the adverb thus qualifying, as the ignoramus loves to do, the wrong verb — for “I required thee only to shave my head.” In the second échantillon we have “a piece of gold” as equivalent of a quarter-diner and “for God’s sake” which certainly does not preserve local colour. In No. 3 we find “‘May God,’ said I,” etc.; “There is no deity but God! Mohammed is God’s apostle!” Here Allah ought invariably to be used, e.g. “Mohammed is the Apostle of Allah,” unless the English name of the Deity be absolutely required as in “There is no god but the God.” The Moslem’s “Wa’lláhi” must not be rendered “By God,” a verbal translation and an absolute nonequivalent; the terms Jehovah, Allah and God and the use of them involving manifold fine distinctions. If it be true that God made man, man in his turn made and mismade God who thus becomes a Son of Man and a mere racial type. I need not trouble my reader with further notices of these extracts whose sole use is to show the phenomenal dullness of Lane’s latinised style: I prefer even Torrens (p. 273).
“We have spoken severely with regard to the last” (my version), says the Reviewer (p.185), and verily I thank him therefor. Laudari ab illaudato has never been my ambition. A writer so learned and so disinterested could hurt my feelings and mortify my pride only by approving me and praising me. Nor have I any desire to be exalted in the pages of the Edinburgh, so famous for its incartades of old. As Dryden says, “He has done me all the honour that any man can receive from him, which is to be railed at by him.” I am content to share the vituperation of this veteran — incapable in company with the poetaster George Gordon who suffered for “this Lord’s station;” with that “burnish fly in the pride of May,” Macaulay, and with the great trio, Darwin, Huxley and Hooker, who also have been the butts of his bitter and malignant abuse (April ‘63 and April ‘73). And lastly I have no stomach for sweet words from the present Editor of the Edinburgh Mr. Henry Reeve, a cross and cross-grained old man whose surly temper is equalled only by his ignoble jealousy of another’s success. Let them bedevil the thin-skinned with their godless ribaldry; for myself peu m’importe— my shoulders are broad enough to bear all their envy, hatred and malice.
During the three years which have elapsed since I first began printing my book I have not had often to complain of mere gratuitous impertinence, and a single exception deserves some notice. The following lines which I addressed to The Academy (August 11, ‘88) will suffice to lay my case before my readers:—
“One hesitates to dissent from so great an authority as Sir Richard Burton on all that relates to the bestial element in man.” So writes (p. xii., Introduction to the Fables of Pilpay), with uncalled-for impertinence, Mr. Joseph Jacobs, who goes out of his way to be offensive, and who confesses to having derived all his knowledge of my views not from “the notorious Terminal Essay of the Nights,” but from the excellent article by Mr. Thomas Davidson on “Beast-fables,” in Chambers’s Cyclopædia, Edinburgh, 1888. This lofty standpoint of morality was probably occupied for a reason by a writer who dedicates “To my dear wife” a volume rich in anecdotes grivoises, and not poor in language the contrary of conventional. However, I suffer from this Maccabee in good society together with Prof. Max Müller (pp. xxvi. and xxxiii.), Mr. Clouston (pp. xxxiii. and xxxv.), Byron (p. xlvi.), Theodor Benfey (p. xlvii.), Mr. W. G. Rutherford (p. xlviii.), and Bishop Lightfoot (p. xlix.). All this eminent half-dozen is glanced at, with distinct and several sneers, in a little volume which, rendered useless by lack of notes and index, must advertise itself by the réclame of abuse.
As regards the reminiscence of Homo Darwinienesis by Homo Sapiens, doubtless it would ex hypothesi be common to mankind. Yet to me Africa is the old home of the Beast-fable, because Egypt was the inventor of the alphabet, the cradle of letters, the preacher of animism and metempsychosis, and, generally, the source of all human civilisation.
Richard F. Burton
And now I must proceed a trifle further a-field and meet
The Boston Daily Advertiser (Jan. 26,‘86) contains the following choice morceau which went the round of the Transatlantic Press:—
G. W. S. writes from London to the New York Tribune in regard to Captain Burton’s notorious translation of the “Arabian Nights.” Of Captain Burton’s translation of “The Arabian Nights,” two volumes have now appeared. Before anything had been seen of them, I gave some account of this scheme, and of the material on which he had worked, with a statement of the reasons which made all existing versions unsatisfactory to the student, and incomplete. Captain Burton saw fit to reprint these desultory paragraphs as a kind of circular or advertisement on his forthcoming book. He did not think it necessary to ask leave to do this, nor did I know to what use my letter had been put till it was too late to object. In any ordinary case it would have been of no consequence, but Captain Burton’s version is of such a character that I wish to state the facts, and to say that when I wrote my letter I had never seen a line of his translation, and had no idea that what I said of his plans would be used for the purpose it has been, or for any purpose except to be printed in your columns. As it is, I am made to seem to give some sort of approval to a book which I think offensive, and not only offensive, but grossly and needlessly offensive. If anybody has been induced to subscribe for it by what I wrote I regret it, and both to him and to myself I think this explanation due.
Mr. Smalley is the London correspondent of the New York Tribune, which represents Jupiter Tonans in the Western World. He may be unable to write with independent tone — few Anglo-Americans can afford to confront the crass and compound ignorance of a “free and independent majority”— but even he is not called upon solemnly to state an untruth. Before using Mr. Smalley’s article as a circular, my representative made a point of applying to him for permission, as he indeed was bound to do by the simplest rules of courtesy. Mr. Smalley replied at once, willingly granting the favour, as I can prove by the note still in my possession; and presently, frightened by the puny yelping of a few critical curs at home, he has the effrontery to deny the fact.
In my last volumes I have been materially aided by two Anglo-American friends, MM Thayer and Cotheal, and I have often had cause to thank the Tribune and the Herald of New York for generously appreciating my labours. But no gratitude from me is due to the small fry of the Transatlantic Press which has welcomed me with spiteful little pars mostly borrowed from unfriends in England and mainly touching upon style and dollars. In the Mail Express of New York (September 7, ‘85) I read, “Captain Richard Burton, traveller and translator, intends to make all the money that there may be in his translation of the ‘Arabian Nights.’ . . . If he only fills his list, and collects his money, he will be in easy circumstances for the remainder of his days.” In a subsequent issue (October 24) readers are told that I have been requested not to publish the rest of the series under pain of legal prosecution. In the same paper (October 31, ‘85; see also November 7, ‘85) I find:—
The authorities have discovered where Capt. Burton’s “Thousand and One Nights” is being printed, despite the author’s efforts to keep the place a secret, but are undecided whether to suppress it or to permit the publication of the coming volumes. Burton’s own footnotes are so voluminous that they exceed the letterpress of the text proper, and make up the bulk of the work.459 The foulness of the second volume of his translation places it at a much higher premium in the market than the first.
The Tribune of Chicago (October 26,‘85) honours me by declaring “It has been resolved to request Captain Burton not to publish the rest of his translation of the ‘Thousand and One Nights,’ which is really foul and slipshod as to style.” The New York Times (October 17 and November 9, ‘85) merely echoes the spite of its English confrere:—
Capt. Burton’s translation of the “Arabian Nights” bears the imprint “Benares.” Of course the work never saw Benares. America, France, Belgium and Germany have all been suggested as the place of printing, and now the Pall Mall Gazette affirms that the work was done “north of the Tweed.” There is, without doubt, on British soil, it says, “a press which year after year produces scores of obscene publications.”
And the same is the case with the St. Louis Post Dispatch (November 11, ‘85) the Mail Express of New York (November 23,‘85); the Weekly Post of Boston (November 27 ‘85), which again revives a false report, and with the Boston Herald (December 16,‘85). The Chicago Daily News (January 30, ‘86) contains a malicious sneer at the Kamashastra Society. The American Register (Paris, July 25, ‘86) informs its clientèle, “If, as is generally supposed, Captain Burton’s book is printed abroad, the probability is that every copy will on arrival be confiscated as ‘indecent’ by the Custom-house.” And to curtail a long list of similar fadaises I will quote the Bookmart (of Pittsburg, Pa., U.S.A., October, ‘86): “Sir Richard Burton’s ‘Nights’ are terribly in want of the fig-leaf, if anything less than a cabbage leaf will do, before they can be fit (fitted?) for family reading. It is not possible (Is it not possible?) that by the time a household selection has been sifted out of the great work, everything which makes the originality and the value — such as it is — of Richard’s series of volumes will have disappeared, and nothing will remain but his diverting lunacies of style.” The Bookmart, I am informed, is edited by one Halkett Lord, an unnaturalised Englishman who finds it pays best to abuse everything and everyone English. And lastly, the Springfield Republican (April 5, ‘88) assures me that I have published “fully as much as the (his?) world wants of the ‘Nights’.”
In the case of “The Nights,” I am exposed to that peculiar Protestant form of hypocrisy, so different from the Tartuffean original of Catholicism, and still as mighty a motor force, throughout the length and breadth of the North-American continent, as within the narrow limits of England. There also as here it goes hand-in-hand with “Respectability” to blind judgment and good sense.
A great surgeon of our day said (or is said to have said) in addressing his students:— “Never forget, gentlemen, that you have to deal with an ignorant public.” The dictum may fairly be extended from medical knowledge to general information amongst the many headed of England; and the Publisher, when rejecting a too recondite book, will repeat parrot-fashion, The English public is not a learned body. Equally valid is the statement in the case of the Anglo-American community which is still half-educated and very far from being erudite. The vast country has produced a few men of great and original genius, such as Emerson and Theodore Parker, Edgar Allan Poe and Walt Whitman; but the sum total is as yet too small to leaven the mighty mass which learns its rudiments at school and college and which finishes its education with the newspaper and the lecture. When Emerson died it was said that the intellectual glory of a continent had departed; but Edgar A. Poe, the peculiar poetic glory of the States, the first Transatlantic who dared be himself and who disdained to borrow from Schiller and Byron, the outlander poet who, as Edgar Allan Poe, is now the prime favourite in France, appears to be still under ban because he separated like Byron from his spouse, and he led a manner of so-called “Bohemian” life. Indeed the wide diffusion of letters in the States, that favourite theme for boasting and bragging over the unenlightened and analphabetic Old World, has tended only to exaggerate the defective and disagreeable side of a national character lacking geniality and bristling with prickly individuality. This disposition of mind, whose favourable and laudable presentations are love of liberty and self-reliance, began with the beginnings of American history. The “Fathers,” Pilgrim and Puritan, who left their country for their country’s good and their own, fled from lay tyranny and clerkly oppression only to oppress and tyrannise over others in new and distant homes. Hardly had a century and a half elapsed before the sturdy colonists, who did not claim freedom but determined to keep it, formally revolted and fought their way to absolute independence — not, by the by, a feat whereof to be overproud when a whole country rose unanimously against a handful of troops. The movement, however, reacted powerfully upon the politics of Europe, which stood agape for change, and undoubtedly precipitated the great French Revolution. As soon as the States became an empire, their democratic and republican institutions at once attracted hosts of emigrants from the Old World, thus peopling the land with a selection of species: the active and the adventurous, the malcontent and the malefactor, readily expatriate themselves, while the pauvre diable remains at home. The potato-famine in Ireland (1848) gave an overwhelming impetus to the exode of a race which had never known a racial baptism; and, lastly, the Germans flying from the conscription, the blood tax of the Fatherland, carried with them over the ocean a transcendentalism which has engendered the wildest theories of socialism and communism. And the emigration process still continues. Whole regions, like the rugged Bocche di Cattaro in Dalmatia and pauper Iceland, are becoming depopulated to me the wonder is that a poor man ever consents to live out of America or a rich man to live.
The result of such selection has been two-fold. The first appears in a splendid self- esteem, a complacency, a confidence which passes all bounds of the golden mean. “I am engrossed in calmly contemplating the grandeur of my native country and her miraculous growth,” writes to me an old literary friend. The feeling normally breaks out in the grossest laudation of everything American. The ultra-provincial twang which we still hear amongst the servant-classes of Lancashire and Yorkshire, and which is so notable in the nouveau riche, modified by traditional nasalisation and, as in Australia, by climatic influences, is American and, therefore, the purest of English utterances. The obsolete vocabulary often obsolete in England without just reason — contrasting with a modern disfigured etymology which strips vocables of their genealogy and history, is American and ergo admirably progressive. The spurious facetiousness which deals mainly in mere jargon words ill-spelt and worse pronounced; in bizarre contrast of ideas, and in ultra-Rabelaisian exaggeration, is American wit and humour — therefore unsurpassable. The Newspaper Press, that great reflector of nationalities, that prime expression of popular taste, too often of an écœurant vulgarity, personal beyond all bounds of common decency, sensational as a transpontine drama, is American; America is the greatest nation upon earth’s face, ergo the daily sheet is setting-up the standard of English speech and forming the language of the Future, good and too good for all the world. This low standard of the Press is the more regretable as its exalted duty is at present to solve the highest problems social and industrial, such as co-operation in labour, the development of fisheries, direct taxation versus indirect and a host of enigmas which the young world, uncumbered by the burdens of the Old World, alone shall unravel.
The second result is still more prejudicial and perilous. This is the glorification of mediocrity, of the average man and woman whose low standard must be a norm to statesman and publicist. Such cult of the common and the ignoble is the more prejudicial because it “wars against all distinction and against the sense of elevation to be gained by respecting and admiring superiority.” Its characteristic predominance in a race which, true to its Anglo-Saxon origin, bases and builds the strongest opinions upon the weakest foundations, hinders the higher Avatars of genius and interferes with the “chief duty of a nation which is to produce great men.” It accounts for the ever-incroaching reign of women in literature — meaning as a rule cheap work and second-rate. And the main lack is not so much the “thrill of awe,” which Göethe pronounces to be the best thing humanity possesses, but that discipline of respect, that sense of loyalty, not in its confined meaning of attachment to royalty, but in a far higher and nobler signification, the recognising and welcoming elevation and distinction whatever be the guise they may assume. “The soul lives by admiration and hope and love.”
And here we see the shady side of the educational process, the diffusion of elementary and superficial knowledge, of the veneer and polish which mask, until chipped-off, the raw and unpolished material lying hidden beneath them. A little learning is a dangerous thing because it knows all and consequently it stands in the way of learning more or much. Hence, it is sorely impatient of novelty, of improvement, of originality. It is intolerant of contradiction, irritable, thin-skinned, and impatient of criticism, of a word spoken against it. It is chargeable with the Law of Copyright, which is not only legalised plunder of the foreigner, but is unfair, unjust and ungenerous to native talent for the exclusive benefit of the short-sighted many-headed. I am far from charging the United States with the abomination called “International Copyright;” the English publisher is as sturdy an enemy to “protection” as the Transatlantic statesman; but we expect better things from a new people which enjoys the heritage of European civilisation without the sufferings accompanying the winning of it. This mediocrity has the furious, unpardoning hatred of l’amour propre offensé. Even a word in favour of my old friends the Mormons is an unpardonable offence: the dwarfish and dwarfing demon “Respectability” has made their barbarous treatment a burning shame to a so-called “free” country: they are subjected to slights and wrongs only for practicing polygamy, an institution never condemned by Christ or the early Christians. The calm and dispassionate judgments of Sir Lepel Griffith and the late Matthew Arnold, who ventured to state, in guarded language, that the boasted civilisation of the United States was not quite perfect, resulted in the former being called a snob and the latter a liar. English stolidity would only have smiled at the criticism even had it been couched in the language of persiflage. And when M. Max O’Rell traverses the statements of the two Englishmen and exaggerates American civilisation, we must bear in mind first that la vulgarité ne se traduit pas, and secondly, that the foes of our foemen are our friends. Woe be to the man who refuses to fall down and do worship before that brazen-faced idol (Eidolon Novi Mundi), Public Opinion in the States; unless, indeed, his name be Brown and he hail from Briggsville.
Some years ago I proposed to write a paper upon the reflex action of Anglo-America upon England using as a base the last edition of Mrs. Trollope, who was compelled to confess that almost every pecularity which she had abused in her first issue had become naturalised at home. Yankee cuteness has already displaced in a marvellous way old English rectitude and plain-dealing; gambling on the Stock Exchange, cornering, booms and trusts have invaded the trading-classes from merchant-princes to shopkeepers, and threaten, at their actual rate of progress, not to leave us an honest man. But now the student’s attention will be called to the great and ever-growing influence of the New World upon the Old, and notably upon Europe. Some 50,000 Americans annually visit the continent, they are rapidly becoming the most important item of the floating population, and in a few years they will number 500,000. Meanwhile they are revolutionising all the old institutions; they are abolishing the classical cicerone whose occupation is gone amongst a herd which wants only to see streets and people: they greatly increase the cost of traveling; they pay dollars in lieu of francs, and they are satisfied with inferior treatment at superior prices:— hence the American hotel abroad is carefully shunned by Englishmen and natives. At home the “well-to-do class” began by regarding their kinsmen d’outre mer with contemptuous dislike; then they looked upon them as a country squire would regard a junior branch which has emigrated and has thriven by emigration; and now they are welcomed in Society because they amuse and startle and stir up the duller depths. But however warm may be private friendship between Englishmen and Anglo-Americans there is no public sympathy nor is any to be expected from the present generation. “New England does not understand Old England and never will,” the reverse being equally the fact. “The Millennium must come,” says Darwin (ii. 387), “before nations love each other:” I add that first Homo alalus seu Pithecanthropus must become Homo Sapiens and cast off his moral slough — egoism and ignorance. Mr. Cleveland, in order to efface the foul stigma of being the “English President,” found it necessary to adopt the strongest measures in the matter of “Fisheries;” and the “Irish vote” must quadrennially be bought at the grave risk of national complications. Despite the much-bewritten “brotherhood of the two great English-speaking races of the world,” the old leaven of cousinly ill-feeling, the jealousy which embitters the Pole against his Russian congener, is still rampant. Uncle Sam actively dislikes John Bull and dispraises England. An Anglo-American who has lived years amongst us and in private intimacy must, when he returns home, speak disparagingly of the old country unless he can afford the expensive luxury of telling unpopular truths and of affronting Demos, the hydra-headed.
But there are even now signs of better things in the Great Republic. Mr. James R. Lowell, an authority (if there be any) upon the subject of Democracy, after displaying its fine points and favourable aspects in his addresses to English audiences, has at length had the uncommon courage to discuss family affairs, and to teach Boston and New York what “weaknesses and perils there may be in the practical working of a system never before set in motion under such favourable circumstances, nor on so grand a scale.” He is emboldened to say firmly and aloud, despite the storming of false and hollow self-praise, that American civilisation, so strong on the material side, is sadly wanting on the other, and still lacks much to make it morally acceptable or satisfactory. And we have some truths concerning that Fool’s Paradise, the glorification of the “average man.” Every citizen of the world must wish full success to the “Independents” (in politics) who sit at the feet of so wise and patriotic a teacher.
And here I feel myself bound to offer some explanation concerning
lest any subscriber charge me, after contracting not to issue or to allow the issue of a cheaper form, with the sharp practice which may be styled
To keep the word of promise to our ear
And break it to our hope.
Hardly had my third volume of “The Nights” (proper) been issued to my patrons when a benevolent subscriber, whose name I am bound to conceal, apprised me that he had personal and precise information concerning a project to pirate the production. England and Anglo-America, be it observed, are the only self-styled civilised countries in the world where an author’s brain-work is not held to be his private property: his book is simply no book unless published and entered, after a cost of seven presentation copies, at “Stationers’ Hall”— its only ægis. France, Italy and Austria treat such volumes as private MSS.: here any dishonest house may reproduce them in replica without the slightest regard to the writer’s rightful rights. In my case this act of robbery was proposed by a German publisher domiciled in London, supported by a Frenchman equally industrious, who practises in Paris, and of whose sharp doings in money-matters not a few Englishmen have had ample reason bitterly to complain. This par nobile agreed to print in partnership an issue of handier form and easier price than my edition, and their plan if carried out would have seriously damaged the property of my subscribers: the series which cost them 10 pounds 10s. would have fallen probably to one-half value. The two pirates met by agreement in Paris where the design was duly discussed and determined; but, fortunately for me, an unexpected obstacle barred the way. The London solicitor, professionally consulted by the dishonest firm, gave his opinion that such a work publicly issued would be a boon to the Society for the Suppression of Vice, and would not escape the unsavoury attentions of old Father Antic — the Law.
But, although these two men were deterred by probable consequences, a bolder spirit might make light of them. I had never intended to go beyond my original project, that is of printing one thousand copies and no more, nor did I believe that any cunning of disguise could make “The Nights” presentable in conventionally decent society. It was, however, represented to me by many whose opinions I valued that thus and thus only the author and his subscribers could be protected from impudent fraud, and finally an unwilling consent was the result.
Mr. Justin Huntley McCarthy, a name well known in the annals of contemporary literature, undertook the task of converting the grand old barbarian into a family man to be received by the “best circles.” His proofs, after due expurgation, were passed on to my wife, who I may say has never read the original, and she struck out all that appeared to her over-free, under the promise that no mother should hesitate in allowing the book to her daughters. It would, perhaps, surprise certain “modest gentlemen” and blatantly virtuous reviewers that the amount of raw material excised from the text and the notes chiefly addressed to anthropologists and Orientalists, amounts to only 215 pages out of a grand total numbering 3156.
Between 1886 and 1888 appeared the revision in six pretty volumes, bearing emblematic colours, virgin-white adorned with the golden lilies of St. Joseph and the “chaste crescent of the young moon.” The price also was reduced to the lowest (£3 3s.) under the idea that the work would be welcome if not to families at any rate to libraries and reading-rooms, for whose benefit the older translations are still being reproduced. But the flattering tale of Hope again proved to be a snare and a delusion; I had once more dispensed with the services of Mr. Middleman, the publisher, and he naturally refused to aid and abet the dangerous innovation. The hint went abroad that the book belonged to the category which has borrowed a name from the ingenious Mr. Bowdler, and vainly half a century of reviewers spoke bravely in its praise. The public would have none of it: even innocent girlhood tossed aside the chaste volumes in utter contempt, and would not condescend to aught save the thing, the whole thing, and nothing but the thing, unexpurgated and uncastrated. The result was an unexpected and unpleasant study of modern taste in highly respectable England. And the fact remains that of an edition which began with a thousand copies only 457 were sold in the course of two years. Next time I shall see my way more clearly to suit the peculiar tastes and prepossessions of the reading world at home.
Before dismissing the subject of the Household Edition, I would offer a few words of explanation on the part of the Editress. While touching-up and trimming the somewhat hurried work of our friend, Mr. McCarthy, she was compelled to accompany me abroad, and to nurse me through a dangerous illness, which left but little time for the heavy claims of business. Unable to superintend, with the care required, the issue of her six volumes she entrusted the task to two agents in whose good will and experience she had and still has the fullest confidence; but the results were sundry letters of appeal and indignation from subscribers touching matters wholly unknown and unintelligible to her. If any mistakes have been made in matters of detail she begs to express her sincerest regret, and to assure those aggrieved that nothing was further from her intention than to show discourtesy where she felt cordial gratitude was due.
Nothing now remains for me but the pleasant task of naming the many friends and assistants to whom this sixteenth and last volume has been inscribed. The late Reverend G. Percy Badger strongly objected to the literal translation of “The Nights” (The Academy, December 8, ‘81); not the less, however, he assisted me in its philology with all readiness. Dr. F. Grenfell Baker lent me ready and valuable aid in the mechanical part of my hard labour. Mr. James F. Blumhardt, a practical Orientalist and reacher of the Prakrit dialects at Cambridge, englished for me the eight Gallandian tales (Foreword, Supp. vol. iii.) from the various Hindostan versions. To Mr. William H. Chandler, of Pembroke College, Oxford, I have expressed (Supp. vol. iii.) the obligations due to a kind and generous friend: his experiments with photography will serve to reconcile the churlishness and retrograde legislation of the great Oxford Library with the manners and customs of more civilised peoples. Mr. W. A. Clouston, whose degree is high in “Storiology,” supplied my second and third Supplemental volumes with valuable analogues and variants. Mr. Alexander J. Cotheal, Consul-General for Nicaragua at New York, sent a valuable MS. to me across the water, and was persuaded to translate, for my sixth Supplemental volume, a novel version of the “Tale of Attáf.” Mr. A. G. Ellis, of the British Museum, amongst other favours, kindly revised the Foreword of my sixth volume. Mr. E. J. W. Gibb, an Orientalist of the modern and realistic school, who is not deterred by literal translation, permitted me to print his version of the Turkish Zayn al-Asnám (Supp. vol. iii.) and translations of three tales which he judged inexpedient to publish (Supp. vol. iv.). M. O. Houdas, Professeur d’ Arabe Vulgaire à l’école des langues Orientales vicantes, Paris, copied for me the Arabic text of Zayn al-Asnám and the whole MS. used by MM. Chavis and Cazotte: he also obligingly assisted me in overcoming the various difficulties of a crabbed and imperfect text. My friend Mr. W. F. Kirby appended to volume x. of “The Nights” (proper) his most valuable contributions to the bibliology of the work with its various imitations and a table showing the contents of the principal editions and translations of “The Nights”: he also enriched my Supplemental volumes v. and vi. with his excellent annotations. Mr. Kingsbury (and Notcutt) photographed for my use 400 and odd pages of the Wortley-Montague MS., and proved how easy it was to produce a perfect fac-simile of the whole. Mr. George Lewis gave me the soundest advice touching legal matters and Mr. Philip M. Justice was induced to take an active interest in the “Household Edition.” The eminent Orientalist, Dr. Pertsch, Librarian of the Grand-Ducal Collection, Saxe-Gotha, in lively contrast to my countrymen of the Bodleian, offered to send me the two volumes of a valuable MS. containing the most detailed texts of Judar and his brethren (vol. vi. 213) and of Zahir and his son Ali. Dr. Reinhold Rost, Librarian of the Indian Office, took much trouble about the W. M. MS. but all in vain. Mr. Alexander W. Thayer, of Trieste, who has studied for years the subject of the so-called Jewish “Exodus,” obliged me with a valuable note detailing his original views. His Excellency Yacoub Artin Pasha, Minister of Public Instruction, Cairo, a friend of many years standing, procured for me the decorations in the Cufic, Naskhí and other characters, which add to much of novelty and ornament to the outer semblance of my sixteen volumes. Mr. Hermann Zotenberg, Keeper of Oriental MS. at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, lent me his own transcription of the “Alaeddin,” and generously supplied me with exact bibliographical notes and measurements of sundry tomes in that admirable collection.
I am also deeply indebted to Mrs. Victoria L. Maylor, of Trieste, who, during the past three years (1885-1888) had the energy and perseverance to copy for me sixteen bulky volumes written in a “running-hand,” concerning which the less said the better. And lastly, I must acknowledge peculiar obligations to my Shaykh, Dr. Steingass, Ph.D. This well-known Arabist not only assisted me in passing the whole work through the press he also added a valuable treatise on Arabic Prosody (x. 233-258) with indexes of various kinds, and finally he supervised the MSS. of the Supplemental volumes and enriched the last three, which were translated under peculiar difficulties in analphabetic lands, with the results of his wide reading and lexicographical experience.
And now, Alhamdolillah, the play is ended, and while the curtain drops, I take the final liberty of addressing my kindly and appreciative audience in the following words, borrowed from a Persian brother of the pen:—
Now hear my hope from men of liberal mind,
Faults, that indulgence crave, shall seek and find;
For whose blames and of despite decries,
Is wight right witless, clean reverse of wise.
To which let me add the following gentle reminder from Ibn Khaldún:—
All that we can we do, and who ne’er swerves
From best endeavour much of praise deserves.
Farewell!
Richard F. Burton
United Service Club, September 30, 1888.
447 It may serve the home-artist and the home-reader to point out a few of the most erroneous The harp (i. 143) is the Irish and not the Eastern, yet the latter has been shown In i. 228; and the “Kánún “ (ii. 77) is a reproduction from Lane’s Modern Egyptians. The various Jinnís are fanciful, not traditional, as they should be (see inter alia Doughty’s Arabia Deserta, ii. 3, etc.). In i. 81 and ii. 622 appears a specimen bogie with shaven chin and “droopers” by way of beard and mustachios: mostly they have bestial or simiad countenances with rabbits’ ears, goats’ horns and so forth (i. 166, 169; ii. 97, 100), instead of faces more or less human and eyes disposed perpendicularly. The spreading yew-tree (i. 209) is utterly misplaced. In many the action is excessive, after the fashion of the Illustrateds (i. 281, 356, 410 and 565; ii. 366, 374). The scymitar and the knife, held in the left hand or slung by the left flank, are wholly out of order (i. 407 ii.281,374; iii.460) and in iii. 355, the blade is wider than the wielder’s waist. In i. 374 the astrolabe is also held in the left hand. The features are classical as those of Arsinoë, certainly not Egyptian, in i. 15; i. 479 and passim. The beggar-women must not wander with faces bare and lacking “nose-bags” as in i. 512. The Shah (i. 523) wears modern overalls strapped down over dress-bottines: Moreover he holds a straight-bladed European court-sword, which is correct in i. 527. The spears (i. 531) are European not Asiatic, much less Arabian, whose beams are often 12-15 feet long. Azíz (i. 537) has no right to tricot drawers and shoes tightened over the instep like the chaussure of European moutards: his foot (i. 540) is wholly out of drawing, like his hand, and the toes are European distortions. The lady writing (i. 581) lacks all local colour; she should sit at squat, support the paper in the hollow of her left instead of using a portfolio, and with her right ply the reed or “pen of brass.” In vol. ii. 57 the lion is an absurdum, big as a cow or a camel, and the same caricature of the King of Beasts occurs elsewhere (i. 531; ii. 557 and iii. 250). The Wazir (ii. 105) wears the striped caftan of a Cairene scribe or shopkeeper. The two birds (ii. 140) which are intended for hawks (see ii. 130) have the compact tails and the rounded-off wings of pigeons. I should pity Amjad and As’ad if packed into a “bullock trunk” like that borne by the mule in ii. 156. The Jew’s daughter (ii. 185) and the Wali of Bulak (ii. 504) carry European candlesticks much improved in ii. 624. The Persian leach (ii. 195) is habited most unlike an ‘Ajami, while the costume is correct in ii. 275. The Badawi mounts (ii. 263) an impossible Arab with mane and tail like the barb’s in pictures. The street-dogs (ii. 265), a notable race, become European curs of low degree. The massage of the galleys (ii. 305) would suit a modern racing-yacht. Utterly out of place are the women’s costumes such as the Badawi maidens (ii. 335), Rose-in Hood (ii. 565), and the girl of the Banú Odhrah (iii.250), while the Lady Zubaydah (ii. 369) is coiffee with a European coronet. The sea-going ship (ii. 615) is a Dahabiyah fit only for the Nile. The banana-trees (ii. 621) tower at least 80 feet tall and the palms and cocoa-nut trees (ii. 334; iii. 60) are indicated only by their foliage, not by their characteristic boles. The box (ii. 624) is European and modern: in the Eastern “Sakhkhárah” the lid fits into the top, thus saving it from the “baggage-smasher.” In iii. 76, the elephant, single-handed, uproots a tree rivalling a century-old English oak. The camel-saddle (iii. 247) is neither Eastern nor possible for the rider, but it presently improves (iii. 424 and elsewhere). The emerging of the Merfolk (iii. 262) is a “tableau,” a transformation-scene of the transpontine pantomime, and equally theatrical is the attitude of wicked Queen Láb (iii. 298), while the Jinni, snatching away Daulat Khatun (iii.341), seems to be waltzing with her in horizontal position. A sun-parasol, not a huge Oriental umbrella, is held over the King’s head (iii. 377). The tail-piece, the characteristic Sphinx (iii. 383), is as badly drawn as it well can be, a vile caricature. Khalífah the Fisherman wears an English night-gown (iii. 558) with the side-locks of a Polish Jew (iii. 564). The dancing- girl (iii. 660) is equally reprehensible in form, costume and attitude, and lastly, the Fellah ploughing (iii. 700) should wear a felt skull-cap instead of a turband, be stripped to the waist and retain nothing but a rag around the middle.
I have carefully noted these lapses and incongruities: not the less, however, I thoroughly appreciate the general excellence of the workmanship, and especially the imaginative scenery and the architectural designs of Mr. W. Harvey. He has shown the world how a work of the kind should be illustrated, and those who would surpass him have only to avoid the minor details here noticed.
448 See in M. Zotenberg’s “Ala al-Din” the text generally; also p. 14.
449 Mr. Payne, in his Essay, vol. ix., 281, computes less than two hundred tales in all omitting the numerous incidentals; and he notices that the number corresponds with the sum of the “Night-stories” attributed to the Hazár Afsán by the learned author of the “Fihrist” (see Terminal Essay, vol. x. pp. 70). In p. 367 (ibid.) he assumes the total at 264.
450 This parlous personage thought proper to fall foul of me (wholly unprovoked) in the Athenaeum of August 25, ‘88. I give his production in full:—
August 18, 1888.
In the notice of Sir R. Burton’s “Life” in to-day’s Athenæum it is mentioned that his biographer says that Capt. Burton proposed to march with his Bashi-bazuks to the relief of Kars, but was frustrated by Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, who, according to Sir Richard, “gained a prodigious reputation in Europe, chiefly by living out of it.”
This is a strange inversion of facts. The proposal to relieve Kars by way of Redoutkalé and Kutais originated, not with Capt. Burton, but with the Turkish Seraskier, who recommended for this purpose the employment of Vivian’s Turkish Contingent and part of Beatson’s Horse (“his Bashi-bazuks”), in which Capt. Burton held a staff appointment. In the last days of June, 1855, General Mansfield, Lord Stratford’s military adviser, was in constant communication on this subject with the Turkish Ministers, and the details of the expedition were completely arranged to the satisfaction of military opinion, both British and Turkish, at Constantinople. Lord Stratford officially recommended the plan to his Government, and in his private letters to the Foreign Secretary strongly urged it upon him and expressed a sanguine hope of its success. But on July 14th, Lord Clarendon telegraphed: “The plan for reinforcing the army at Kars contained in your despatches of 30th June and 1st inst. is disapproved.” Lord Panmure really “frustrated” the Turkish plan; Lord Stratford never “frustrated” any attempt to succour the Army of Asia, but, contrariwise, did all in his power to forward the object.
As to the amiable reference to the Great Elchi’s reputation, no one knows better than Sir R. Burton by what queer methods reputations may be annexed, but it is strange that anyone with the reputation of a traveller should consider Constantinople to be “out of Europe.”
S. Lane-Poole.
The following was my reply:—
London, Aug. 26, 1888.
Will you kindly spare me space for a few lines touching matters personal?
I am again the victim (Athenæum, August 25) of that everlasting réclame. Mr. S. Lane-Poole has contracted to “do” a life of Lord Stratford, and, ergo, he condemns me in magistral tone and a style of uncalled-for impertinence, to act as his “advt.” In relating how, by order of the late General Beatson, then commanding Bash-buzuk (Bashi-bazuk is the advertiser’s own property), I volunteered to relieve Cars, how I laid the project before the “Great Eltchee,” how it was received with the roughest language and how my first plan was thoroughly “frustrated.” I have told a true tale, and no more. “A strange perversion of facts,” cries the sapient criticaster, with that normal amenity which has won for him such honour and troops of unfriends: when his name was proposed as secretary to the R. A. S., all prophesied the speediest dissolution of that infirm body.
I am aware that Constantinople is not geographically “out of Europe.” But when Mr. S. Lane-Poole shall have travelled a trifle more he may learn that ethnologically it is. In fact, most of South-Eastern Europe holds itself more or less non-European, and when a Montenegrin marries a Frenchwoman or a German, his family will tell you that he has wedded a “European.”
“No one knows better than Sir R. Burton by what queer methods reputation may be annexed.” Heavens, what English! And what may the man mean? But perhaps he alludes in his own silly, saltless, sneering way to my Thousand Nights and a Night, which has shown what the “Uncle and Master’s “ work should have been. Some two generations of poules mouillées have reprinted and republished Lane’s “Arabian Notes” without having the simple honesty to correct a single bévue, or to abate one blunder; while they looked upon the Arabian Nights as their own especial rotten borough. But more of this in my tractate, “The Reviewer Reviewed,” about to be printed as an appendix to my Supplemental Volume, No. vi.
Richard F. Burton.
And here is the rejoinder (Athenæum, September 8):—
September 4, 1888.
Sir R. Burton, like a prominent Irish politician, apparently prefers to select his own venue, and, in order to answer my letter in the Athenæum of August 25, permits himself in the Academy of September 1 an exuberance of language which can injure no one but himself. Disregarding personalities, I observe that he advances no single fact in support of the statements which I contradicted, but merely reiterates them. It is a question between documents and Sir R. Burton’s word.
S. Lane-Poole.
It is not a question between documents and my word, but rather of the use or abuse of documents by the “biographer.” My volunteering for the relief of Kars was known to the whole camp at the Dardanelles, and my visit to the Embassy at Constantinople is also a matter of “documents.” And when Mr. S. Lane-Poole shall have produced his I will produce mine.
451 It appears to me that our measures, remedial and punitive, against “pornographic publications” result mainly in creating “vested interests” (that English abomination) and thus in fostering the work. The French printer, who now must give name and address, stamps upon the cover Avis aux Libraires under Edition privee and adds Ce volume ne doit pas etre mis en vente ou expose dans les lieux publics (Loi du 29 Juillet, 1881). He also prints upon the back the number of copies for sale We treat “pornology” as we handle prostitution, unwisely ignore it, well knowing the while that it is a natural and universal demand of civilised humanity; and whereas continental peoples regulate it and limit its abuses we pass it by, Pharisee-like, with nez en-l’air. Our laws upon the subject are made only to be broken, and the authorities are unwilling to persecute, because by so doing they advertise what they condemn. Thus they offer a premium to the greedy and unscrupulous publisher and immensely enhance the value of productions (“Fanny Hill” by Richard Cleland for instance) which, if allowed free publication, would fetch pence instead of pounds. With due diffidence, I suggest that the police be directed to remove from booksellers’ windows and to confiscate all indecent pictures, prints and photographs; I would forbid them under penalty of heavy fines to expose immoral books for sale, and I would leave “cheap and nasty” literature to the good taste of the publisher and the public. Thus we should also abate the scandal of providing the secretaries and officers of the various anti-vice societies with libraries of pornological works which, supposed to be escheated or burned, find their way into the virtuous hands of those who are supposed to destroy them.
452 “Quand aux manuscrits de la rédaction égyptienne, l’omission de cet épisode parait devoir être attribuée à la tendance qui les caractérise géneralement, d’abréger et de condenser la narrative “ (loc. cit. p. 7: see also p. 14).
453 Here I would by no means assert that the subject matter of The Nights is exhausted: much has been left for future labourers. It would be easy indeed to add another five volumes to my sixteen as every complete manuscript contains more or less of novelty. Dr. Pertsch, the learned librarian of Saxe-Gotha, informs me that no less than two volumes are taken up by a variant of Judar the Egyptian (in my vol. vi. 213) and by the History of Zahir and Ali. For the Turkish version in the Bibliothèque Nationale see M. Zotenberg (pp. 21-23). The Rich MS. in the British Museum abounds in novelties, of which a specimen was given in my Prospectus to the Supplemental Volumes.
In the French Scholar’s “Alâ al-Dîn” (p. 45) we find the MSS. of The Nights divided into three groups. No. i. or the Asian (a total of ten specified) are mostly incomplete and usually end before the half of the text. The second is the Egyptian of modern date, characterised by an especial style and condensed narration and by the nature and ordinance of the tales, by the number of fables and historiettes, and generally by the long chivalrous Romance of Omar bin al-Nu’umán. The third group, also Egyptian, differs only in the distribution of the stories.]
454 My late friend, who brought home 3,000 copies of inscriptions from the so-called Sinai which I would term in ancient days the Peninsula of Paran. and in our times the Peninsula of Tor.
455 See M. Zotenberg, pp. 4, 26.
456 M. Zotenberg (p. 5) wrote la seconde moitie du xive. Siècle, but he informed me that he has found reason to antedate the text.
457 I regret the necessity of exposing such incompetence and errors which at the time when Lane wrote were venial enough; his foolish friend, however, by unskilful and exaggerated pretensions and encomiums, compels me to lay the case before the reader.
458 This past tense, suggesting that an act is complete, has a present sense in Arabic and must be translated accordingly.
459 Quite untrue: the critic as usual never read and probably never saw the subject of his criticism. In this case I may invert one of my mottoes and write, “To the foul all things”
As the holiday season draws to a close the publishers’ announcements of “new books” fill column after column of the organs chosen from these special communiqué’s. But there is one work which is not entered in these lists, though for years scholars, and many people who are not scholars, have been looking for it with an eagerness which has left far behind the ordinary curiosity which is bestowed on the greatest of contributions to current literasure. And to-day the chosen few who are in possession of the volume in question are examining it with an interest proportionate to the long toil which has been bestowed on its preparation. We refer to Captain Burton’s translation of The Arabian Nights Entertainments, now entitled The Book of The Thousand Nights and a Night, of which the first tome has just been issued. . . . Captain Burton scorns any namby pambyism. In the Arabic a spade is usually called a spade, and in the latest English translation it is never designated an agricultural implement. Moreover the endless footnotes which the editor appends speak with much freedom of many things usually avoided as themes for conversation in polite society, though they throw a flood of light on hundreds of features of Oriental life on which, since travellers have been compelled to write for “refined” audiences the student has failed to be informed . . . .
Yet, admitting that The Nights are often coarse and indelicate, and sometimes even gross it is a mistake to suppose that they are demoralising in the same way that a French novel of the Zola type is, or might be. Indeed, what we would call its impropriety is only a reflection of the naïve freedom with which talk is to this day carried on in the family circles of the East. They see no harm in what we should regard as indecency. So that when Captain Burton prefaces his unbowdlerised version with the Arab proverb, “To the pure in heart all things are pure,” he presents perhaps the best defence he could against the attack which it is quite possible may be made on him for devoting many years of his life to what he terms “a labour of love.” . . . Captain Burton, thirty-three years ago, went in the disguise of an Indian pilgrim to Mecca and Al-Medinah, and no one capable of giving the world the result of his experience has so minute, so exhaustive a knowledge of Arab and Oriental life generally. Hence the work now begun — only a limited number of students can ever see — is simply priceless to any one who concerns himself with such subjects, and may be regarded as marking an era in the annals of Oriental translation.
One of the most important translations to which a great English scholar has ever devoted himself is now in the press. For three decades Captain Burton has been more or less engaged on his translation of the Arabian Nights, the latest of the many versions of that extraordinary story which has been made into English, the only one at all worthy of a great original.
The publication of the first volume of Captain Burton’s translation of the Alif Laïla enriches the world of Oriental investigation with a monument of labour and scholarship and of research. . . . In the name of the whole world of Oriental scholarship, we offer our heartfelt thanks and congratulations to Captain Burton upon the appearance of this first volume; and we look forward with the keenest interest for its successors.
Captain Burton has begun to issue the volumes of his subscription translation of the Arabian Nights, and its fortunate possessors will now be able to realize the full flavour of Oriental feeling. They will now have the great storehouse of Eastern folk-lore opened to them, and Captain Burton’s minute acquaintance with Eastern life makes his comments invaluable. In this respect, as well as in the freeness of the translation, the version will be distinguished from its many predecessors. Captain Burton’s preface, it may be observed, bears traces of soreness at official neglect. Indeed it seems curious that his services could not have been utilised in the Soudan, when the want of competent Arabic scholars was so severely felt.
But to scholars and men who have sufficient love of the soul of these sweet stories to discern the form in its true proportions, the new edition will be welcome. From an Oriental point of view the work is masterly to a degree. The quatrains and couplets, reading like verses from Elizabethan mantels, and forming a perfect rosary of Eastern lore, the constant succession of brilliant pictures, and the pleasure of meeting again our dear old friend Shahrázád, all these combine to give a unique charm and interest to this “perfect expositor of the mediæval Moslem mind.”
Captain Burton, in his way, renders a gigantic service to all students of literature who are not profound Orientalists, and to many who are, by giving them a literal, honest, and accurate translation of the Arabian Nights. . . . Some idiotic persons here and there, and certain journals which have earned an infamous notoriety by doing their best to deprave public morals, have raised a foolish clamour against Captain Burton and his translation. Journalists, who had no objection to pandering to the worst tastes of humanity at a penny a copy, are suddenly inspired by much righteous indignation at a privately printed work which costs a guinea a volume, and in which the manners, the customs, and the language of the East are boldly represented as they were and as they are. Such critics Captain Burton, and the readers of Captain Burton’s translation, can afford to despise and to ignore. The Arabian Nights Entertainment has been the playbook of generations, the delight of the nursery and the school-room for nearly two hundred years. Now it is high time that scholars and students should be allowed to know what the Arabian Nights Entertainment really is. Lovers of Arabic have long since known something of the truth concerning the Alif Laila. It needs no Burton, it needed no Payne to tell the masters of Oriental languages that The Thousand Nights and a Night was a very different thing from what either Galland or Lane had made it out to be. Mr. Payne in his way, rendered no slight service, Captain Burton, in his way, renders a gigantic service to all students of literature who are not profound Orientalists, and to many who are, by giving them a literal, honest, and accurate translation of the “Arabian Nights.”
As Capt. Richard F. Burton’s translation of The Thousand and One Nights is likely for several reasons to awaken a literary controversy, the following letter from Mr. John Addington Symonds in the Academy of October 3 will be read with interest. The subject upon which it touches is an important one, and one which must be regarded from a scholarly as well as a moral point of view. Mr. Symonds writes like the scholar that he is; we shall soon see how the moralists write, and if they say anything to the point we shall copy it:—
Am Hof, Davos Platz, Switzerland, September 27th, 1885.
“There is an outcry in some quarters against Capt. Burton’s translation of the Arabian Nights. Only one volume of the work has reached me, and I have not as yet read the whole of it. Of the translator’s notes I will not speak, the present sample being clearly insufficient to judge by, but I wish to record a protest against the hypocrisy which condemns his text. When we invite our youth to read an unexpurgated Bible (in Hebrew and Greek, or in the authorised version), an unexpurgated Aristophanes, an unexpurgated Juvenal, an unexpurgated Boccaccio, an unexpurgated Rabelais, an unexpurgated collection of Elizabethan dramatists, including Shakespeare, and an unexpurgated Plato (in Greek or in Prof. Jowett’s English version), it is surely inconsistent to exclude the unexpurgated Arabian Nights, whether in the original or in any English version, from the studies of a nation who rule India and administer Egypt.
“The qualities of Capt. Burton’s translation are similar to those of his previous literary works, and the defects of those qualities are also similar. Commanding a vast and miscellaneous vocabulary, he takes such pleasure in the use of it that sometimes he transgresses the unwritten laws of artistic harmony. From the point of view of language, I hold that he is too eager to seize the mot propre of his author, and to render that by any equivalent which comes to hand from field or fallow, waste or warren, hill or hedgerow, in our vernacular. Therefore, as I think, we find some coarse passages of the Arabian Nights rendered with unnecessary crudity and some poetic passages marred by archaisms and provincialisms. But I am at a loss to perceive how Burton’s method of translation should be less applicable to the Arabian Nights than to the Lusiad. So far as I can judge, it is better suited to the naïveté combined with stylistic subtlety of the former than to the smooth humanistic elegancies of the latter.
“This, however, is a minor point. The real question is whether a word for word version of the Arabian Nights, executed with peculiar literary vigor, exact scholarship, and rare insight into Oriental modes of thought and feeling, can under any shadow of presence be classed with ‘the garbage of the brothels.’ In the lack of lucidity, which is supposed to distinguish English folk, our middle-class censores morum strain at the gnat of a privately circulated translation of an Arabic classic, while they daily swallow the camel of higher education based upon minute study of Greek and Latin literature. When English versions of Theocritus and Ovid, of Plato’s Phaedrus and the Ecclesiazusae, now within the reach of every school-boy, have been suppressed, then and not till then can a ‘plain and literal’ rendering of the Arabian Nights be denied with any colour of consistency to adult readers. I am far from saying that there are not valid reasons for thus dealing with Hellenic and Graeco-Roman and Oriental literature in its totality. But let folk reckon what Anglo Saxon Puritanism logically involves. If they desire an Anglo-Saxon Index Librorum Prohibitorum, let them equitably and consistently apply their principles of inquisitorial scrutiny to every branch of human culture.
“John Addington Symonds.”
Everything comes to him who waits — even the long-promised, eagerly-expected “Plain and Literal Translation of the Arabian Nights,” by Richard F. Burton. It is a whole quarter of a century since this translation of one of the most famous books of the world was contemplated, and we are told it is the natural outcome of the well-known Pilgrimage to Medinah and Mecca. Of Captain Burton’s fitness for the task who can doubt. It was during that celebrated journey to the tomb of the Prophet that he proved himself to be an Arab — indeed, he says, in a previous state of existence he was a Bedouin. Did he not for months at a stretch lead the life of a Son of the Faithful, eat, drink, sleep dress, speak, pray like his brother devotees, the sharpest eyes failing to pierce his disguise. He knows the ways of Eastern men — and women — as he does the society of London or Trieste. How completely at home he is with his adopted brethren he showed at Cairo when, to the amazement of some English friends who were looking on at the noisy devotions of some “howling” Dervishes, he suddenly joined the shouting, gesticulating circle and behaved as if to the manner born. He has qualified as a “Howler,” he holds a diploma as a master Dervish (see vol. iii. of his “Pilgrimage”), and he can initiate disciples. Clearly to use a phrase of Arabian story, it was decreed by Allah from the beginning, and fate and fortune have arranged, that Captain Burton should be the one of all others to confer upon his countrymen the boon of the genuine unsophisticated Thousand Nights and a Night. In the whole of our literature no book is more widely known. It is spread broadcast like the Bible, Bunyan and Shakespeare; yet although it is in every house, and every soul in the kingdom knows something about it, yet nobody knows it as it really exists. We have only had what translators have chosen to give — selected, diluted and abridged transcripts. And of late some so-called “original” books have been published containing minor tales purloined bodily from the Nights. There have been many versions, beginning with the beautiful Augustan French example of Professor Galland, but all have failed, or rather no one has attempted, to reproduce the great Oriental masterpiece. Judged by the number of editions — a most fallacious test of merit — Lane’s three volumes, on the whole, have found greatest favour with the British public. He was too timid to give to the world the full benefit of his studies, and he kept a drawing-room audience in view. He was careful to adapt his picture to the English standard of propriety, and his suppressions and omissions are on a wholesale scale. Lord Byron said of English novelists that they give a full length of courtship and but a bust of marriage. Mr. Lane thought it expedient to draw a tight veil, to tell only half the truth — in short he stops at the bust. Moreover he destroyed all the mécanique of his original, and cruelly altered the form. He did away with the charming and dramatic framework of the tales, turned the Arabian Nights into the Arabian Chapters, and too often into the Arabian Notes. The first sole and complete translation was furnished recently by Mr. John Payne, whose “Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night” is dedicated to Captain Burton. Mr. Payne printed 500 copies for private circulation, a mere drop in the ocean. His edition was instantly absorbed, clutched with avidity, and is unprocurable — unless, as has happened several times, a stray copy finds its way into the market, and is snatched up at a fancy price. It so happened that Mr. Payne and Captain Burton applied themselves to the same task quite unconscious of each other’s labour. They were running on the same rails, like Adams and Leverrier, the joint discoverers of Neptune, or like Darwin and Wallace, who simultaneously evolved the theory of Natural Selection. Hearing of a competitor, Captain Burton, who was travelling to the Gold Coast, freely offered his fellow worker precedence. Mr. Payne’s production served to whet curiosity, and the young scholars of the day applied themselves to Arabic in order to equip their minds, and to be in a more blissful state of preparation for the triumphant edition to follow. Captain Burton’s first volume in sombre black and dazzling gold — the livery of the Abbasides — made its appearance three weeks ago, and divided attention with the newly-discovered Star. It is the first volume of ten, the set issued solely to subscribers. And already, as in the case of Mr. Payne’s edition, there has been a scramble to secure it, and it is no longer to be had for love or money. The fact is, it fills a void, the world has been waiting for this chef d’æuvre, and all lovers of the Arabian Nights wonder how they have got on without it. We must break off from remarks to give some idea of the originality of the style, of the incomparable way in which the very essence and life of the East is breathed into simple, straightforward Anglo-Saxon English. In certain of Captain Burton’s books he borrows words from all languages, there are not enough for his use, and he is driven to coin them. But in the character of Arabian story-teller he is simplicity itself, and whilst avoiding words of length, he introduces just enough of antique phrase as gives a bygone and poetic flavour. The most exacting and the most fastidious will be satisfied at the felicitous handling of immortal themes. A delightful characteristic is the division of the text into Nights. Lane and Payne, for peculiar reasons of their own, have both omitted to mark the breaks in the recital. But now for the first time the thread on which all is strung is clearly kept in view, and justice is done to the long drawn-out episode of the young wife who saves her own neck and averts a wholesale massacre of maidens by her round of stories within stories.
The reader most familiar with the ordinary versions at once is in a new atmosphere. The novelty is startling as it is delightful. We are face to face with the veritable East, where Cairo, Damascus, and Baghdad are known to us as London or Lincoln. The whole life of the people is represented, nothing is passed over or omitted. The picture is complete, and contains everything as the “white contains the black of the eye,” a phrase which, by- the-bye, in Arabic is all contained in one word. We have before alluded to the strength and beauty of the style. The felicities of expression are innumerable. What could be better than the terms to express grief and joy, “his breast broadened,” “his breast straitened,” or the words used of a person in abject terror, “I died in my skin,” or the cruelty of the scourger who persevered “till her forearm failed,” or the expression of despair “The light before his face became night,” or the grand account of the desert storm “when behold a dust cloud up-flew and grew until it walled the horizon from view.” Another speciality of Captain Burton’s edition is the Notes. He is celebrated for sowing the bottom of his pages with curiously illuminating remarks, and he has here carried out his custom in a way to astonish. He tells us that those who peruse his notes in addition to those of Lane would be complete proficients in the knowledge of Oriental practices and customs. Lane begins with Islam from Creation to the present day, and has deservedly won for his Notes the honour of a separate reprint. Captain Burton’s object in his annotations is to treat of subjects which are completely concealed from the multitude. They are utterly and entirely esoteric, and deal with matters of which books usually are kept clear. Indeed he has been assured by an Indian officer who had been 40 years in the East, that he was entirely ignorant of the matters revealed in these Notes. Without these marvellous elucidations the Arabian Nights would remain only half understood, but by their aid we may know as much of the Moslems as the Moslems know of themselves.
In bringing out his Arabian Nights Captain Burton has made a bold attempt to dispense with the middleman the publisher. He has gone straight to the printer, he himself undertaking the business of distribution. It is time somebody should be energetic. With curious submission authors go on bearing their grievances, and sow that others may reap. Whole editions of travels are issued, and the person most concerned, the author, gets a pittance of £5. And only the other day Walt Whitman, most illustrious of American poets, and in the opinion of capable judges the most illustrious man of letters across the Atlantic, publicly that the profits on his writings for a whole year amounted to a few dollars. Captain Burton has broken through the bondage, and the result promises to be highly satisfactory. But he has been threatened with pains and penalties, one trade journal, the Printing Times and Lithographer, under the immediate direction of an eminent bookseller, known for his vast purchases of rare publications, announced that The Arabian Nights would be suppressed unless its tone and morals were unexceptionable! In short, publishers are exasperated, and, like the Peers, they do not see the force of being abolished. The authors, however, who sigh to be independent, must not take it for granted that the experiment is easy, or likely to be often successful. In this particular instance it is a case of the Man and the Book. There is only one Arabian Nights in the world, and only one Captain Burton.
The Thousand Nights and a Night offers a complete picture of Eastern peoples. But the English reader must be prepared to find that the manners of Arabs and Moslems differ from his own. Eastern people look at things from a more natural and primitive point of view, and they say what they think with all the unrestraint of children. At times their plain speaking is formidable, but they are not conscious of impropriety, and their coarseness is not intentional. It is their nature to be downright, and to be communicative on subjects about which the Saxon is shy or silent, and it must be remembered that the separation of the sexes adds considerably to this freedom of expression. Their language is material in quality, every root is objective; as an instance, for the word soul they have no more spiritual equivalent than breath. Even the conversation between parents and children is of incredible frankness, and the Wazir of Egypt talks to his daughter “the Lady of Beauty,” in a fashion astonishing to the West. But the Arabs are a great mixture. They are keenly alive to beauty, and every youth and every damsel is described in glowing, rapturous terms. We have heard in our own country, so far north as chilly Scotland, of a whole audience standing up in a theatre to applaud the entrance and acknowledge the charms of a beautiful woman. In the East they are far more readily subjugated, and the event is of everyday occurrence, and not a wonder. “When the people of Damascus saw Ajib’s beauty and brilliancy and perfect grace and symmetry (for he was a marvel of comeliness and winning loveliness, softer than the cool breeze of the North, sweeter than limpid waters to man in drouth, and pleasanter than the health for which sick man sueth), a mighty many followed him, whilst others ran on before and sat down on the road until he should come up, that they might gaze on him.” The Arabs are highly imaginative, and their world is peopled with supernatural beings, whilst Ovid is surpassed in the number and ingenuity of their metamorphoses. Their nerves are highly strung, they are emotional to the hysteric degree, and they do everything in the superlative fashion. They love at first sight, and one glimpse of a face is enough to set them in flames; they cease to sleep or to eat until they are admitted to the adored presence, they weep till they faint, they rend their garments, pluck their beards, buffet their faces, and after paroxysms of passion they recover sufficiently to recite verses —“and he beat his face and head and recited these couplets”—“then she recited, weeping bitterly the while”—“When the young man heard these words he wept with sore weeping, till his bosom was drenched with tears and began reciting.” All this effervescence, so different to our rigid repression, all this exuberance of feeling is the gift of a hot climate. And, besides this easy stirring of their passions, they always live in supreme consciousness that every impulse, every act is decreed, that they drift without will of their own, and are the helpless creatures of destiny. Half their talk consists of invocations to Allah, the All-ruling, All-gracious Allah! This fatalistic element is a leading feature in the Nights. All that happens is accepted with submission, and with the conviction that nothing can be averted. The Wazir’s eye is knocked out, “as fate and fortune decreed,” the one pomegranate seed escapes destruction, and the Princess dies in consequence; the beautiful lad secreted in a cave under the earth to keep him from harm, because it is foretold by the astrologers that he will die on a certain day, meets with his death at the appointed hour despite all precautions. This is one of the myriad instances, says Captain Burton, showing “that the decrees of Anagké, Fate, Destiny, Weird are inevitable.” And yet, in the face of overwhelming evidence that Moslems in all things bow to the stroke of destiny, it is singular to note that a Turkish scholar like Mr. Redhouse, translator of the “Mesnevi,” fails to realise this most characteristic trait of Mahometan belief, and confuses it with the Christian idea of Providence and Premonition. The folk in Arabian tales, as might be expected, meet calamity in the shape of death with fortitude. The end of life is not a terror acutely feared as with us. They die easily, and when the time comes they give up the ghost without repining, although the mourning by survivors is often loud and vehement, and sometimes desperately prolonged. This facility in dying is partly due to their fatalistic philosophy, and partly it is the effect of climate. It is in rugged climes that death is appalling, and comes as the King of Terrors, but the hotter the country the easier it is to enter the Door of Darkness. All these things which make the difference between Orientals and ourselves must be taken into account by readers of Arabian story, and the coarseness, as Captain Burton shows, is but the shade of a picture which otherwise would be all light;” the general tone of the Nights “is exceptionally high and pure, and the devotional fervour often rises to boiling point.” We have shown how Captain Burton has rendered the prose of the Nights, how vigorous, yet simple, is the language, how pleasant is his use of antique phrase, serving as it often does to soften the crudity of Oriental expression. In translating the poetry, which finally will amount to nearly 10,000 lines, he has again started on a path of his own. He has closely preserved the Arab form, although, as he says, an absolutely exact copy of Arabic metres is an impossibility.
A striking novelty in Captain Burton’s translation is the frequent occurrence of passages in cadenced prose, called in Arabic “Saj’a,” or the cooing of a dove. These melodious fragments have a charming effect on the ear. They come as dulcet-surprises, and mostly occur in highly-wrought situations, or they are used to convey a vivid sense of something exquisite in art or nature. We give one or two instances of these little eddies of song set like gems in the prose. Their introduction seems due to whim or caprice, but really is due to profound study of the situation, as if the tale-teller felt suddenly compelled to break into the rhythmic strain. The prose ripples and rises to dancing measure when the King of the Age, wandering in a lonely palace, comes upon the half-petrified youth, “the Ensorcelled Prince.”
“Now when the Sultan heard the mournful voice he sprang to his feet, and following the sound found a curtain let down over the chamber door. He raised it and saw behind it a young man sitting upon a couch about a cubic above the ground: he fair to the sight, a well- shaped wight, with eloquence dight, his forehead was flower-white, his cheek rosy bright, and a mole on his cheek breadth like an ambergris mite.”
It is broken again to bring into fuller notice the perfections of one of the three merry ladies of Baghdad, sitting under a silken canopy, the curtains “looped up with pearls as big as filberts and bigger.” We are told to note how eastern are the metaphors, how confused the flattery.
“Thereupon sat a lady bright of blee, with brow-beaming brilliancy, and her eyebrows were arched as for archery; her breath breathed ambergris and perfumery, and her lips were sugar to taste and carnelian to see. Her stature was straight as the letter I (the letter Alif a straight perpendicular stroke), and her face shamed the noon sun’s radiancy; and she was even as a galaxy or a dome with golden marquetry, or a bride displayed on choicest finery, or a noble maid of Araby.”
And prose is not thought adequate to do justice to the natural beauty of a garden “like one of the pleasaunces of Paradise.”
“It was a garden with trees of freshest green and ripe fruits of yellow sheen; and its birds were singing clear and keen, and rills ran wimpling through the fair terrene.”
It is a marvel that these cadences have never been reproduced before. They have been faintly attempted by Eastwick, in his “Gulistan,” whilst Mr. Payne simply passed them over, rejected them as of no account. They fall in with Captain Burton’s plan of omitting nothing; of giving the Nights intact in the precise form in which they are enjoyed by the Oriental. Beside the verses so characteristic of exaggerated Arabic sentiment, and the rhymed cadences, let like precious stones into the gold of the prose, the proverbs embodying the proverbial wit and wisdom are all rhymed as in the original Arabic. What Arabists think of this translation we may learn from a professed Arabist writing to this effect:—“I am free to confess, after many years study of Arabic, a comparison of your translation with the text has taught me more than many months of dry study,” whilst Englishmen who for years have lived in the East are making the discovery that, after all, they have known little or nothing, and their education is only beginning with this version of the Arabian Nights. It is only knowledge that knows how to observe; and it is satisfactory to observe that Captain Burton’s amazing insight into Eastern peculiarities has been put to its best use in giving a true idea of the People of the Sun and a veritable version of their Book of Books. The labour expended on this edition has been enormous. The work could only have been completed by the most excessive and pertinatious application. All the same we are told it has been “a labour of love,” a task that has brought its own exceeding great reward.
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